The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, January 04, 1882, Image 1
" ABBEVILLE pHlMKpil
BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WARDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C.. WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 4, 1882. . NO. 31. VOLUME XXVI. |||
A Message.
Oli, glad bells, ringing,
Your cchocs "Hinging,
With wild notes winging
Their flight en iii^h !
Oli, sweet, glad token
Of word.-) we've spoken,
*{i troth unbroken.
My lore junl I!
Oil, snow-clouds whirling,
Like sails unfurling,
Or white mists curling
From earth to sky.
Bend down and listen,
Where frost-buds glisten,
Fly keen winds kis? n,
To live or die.
One year's long sighing,
One year's "low dying,
Twrt linavfa' fntw1! i?rviMrr
..V, ..V V...
For love they mis* ;
Now tear? ami weeping,
A." dreams iu sleeping,
Fade in the keeping
Of Christmas blis?.
Come, pain and pleasure.
Or joy, we measure
P.v gift and treasure
Of love's brief stay.
Ere sighs come after
f>!ir smiles ami laughter,
s-> l hereafter,
< .'11 sweet to-day !
Though others meet you,
Ami wtkvnies greet you;
For on-, my sweet, yon
Will loni; anil wait.
The slow hours (lying
You count by sighing,
V.'hile I ani flying
To love and fate.
With soft eyes tearful,
With heart half fearful,
'Though all are cheerful,
Around you here;
Your true thoughts hover
. Around your loverShall
h<* discover
A fault, a fear ?
0!i, glad boll#,'pealing;
Oil, sweet thoughts, stealing
O'er troubled feeling
And fevered breast!
In t!iij >wect meeting
I hear vynr greoting:
''If love be fleeting,
Yet lore is best!'
The Mountain Shanty, j
" Yon pjc to carry tho valise to the
depot, Joe, and have it checked?or, no, j
no ; wait until I come ; you'll be sure i
to make a mistake. I wish " and ,
Walter Ducliff turned from the footman 1
to his mother, " I wish the time would !
come when machines would take the !
place of eervauts. One advantage in a ;
machine is that vou know the capacity; I
it doesn't mate pretentions of being a
rational human bein *, and then fail at
the critical moment."
Mrs. DuclifT, a fair, delicate woman,
who was drawn elooe to the open fire,
with a velvet mantle wrapped abont her,
shook her head pently, and when the
man was gone said:
" Walter, indeed yon have too little !
consideration for your inferiors. There
is no nee d to mortify the man in that j
manner."
" Bless jonr heart, mother, you know
nothing abont that kind of people. Joe
didn't understand, and if he had he
Vonld not have cared. I pay him high
wages, and there's not a day he does
not have an odd half dollar, or fall heir
to some of my boots or clothes. That's
all he needs for happiness."
"Joe's feelings at the bottom are the
taniA nnrs mv firm "
"I beg jour pardon," flushing hotly,
"but that I cannot believe. The lower
classes havo been hardened by gsner- j
ations of need and hard work. Now
your tastes and emotions have come to i
you through many lives of ease and culture
; they los-t them, if tht:y ever had
tiny, in the light for daily bread."
"You nre too vain of your birth, i
my dear," said his mother, quietly.
" Ycu wiil feel differently when you are
older. It is nearly time for the train,
isn't it, dear?"
" It's quite time.'' Glancing at his
watch he drew on his furred overcoat,
:and uncorsciously passed his fingers
over tho waxed ends of his very small
muslsche. "Good-bye, mother, <!ar-1
ling. I'll write from Harrisburg. I <lo
l* T -?. ? n,~ i,
uvj/i; i lua y uic u^ut
and sitisfy father."
"No fear of that, Walty."
Slia held him for a moment, as he
stooped to Liss her, with her hands |
holding each bide of his face, looking ,
fondly at his delicate features and clear, ;
intelligent eyes.
"God send you safely home, my son. j
You'll try and bo back by Christmas ? |
There is a ball at yonr cousin's, atd
you're all of icy holiday, remember."
"Oh, I'll b<? back; I'll not fail in;
hat, whatever comes," and then, with
another hasty kiss he was gone, spring-1
ing down tho stairs and trolling out'
some college catch.
He had just left college and had been 1
taken into his father's counting-room as ,
confidential clerk. This was his first!
journev on the business of tbo firm, and ;
he had a shrewd suspicion iliat it was to 1
test his capacity. He was quite sure, i
from the fact that Saunders, the old
cashier, met him at the depot and
placed in his hand the sealed papers of
instruction, instead of sending them by
a messenger.
"Don't yon neglect any trifle, Mr.
Walter," said the old man, significantly, i
' Your father mj aires absolute precision
in the lea^t clerk, and he'll require it
more in one whom he wishes to be his
partner."
Walter nodded and buttoned up the
package in his breast, and in a few mo- j
ments he was whizzing away over the
snow-covered fields.
The business for a week or two was
easy acd pleasant enough. Money wds i
to be collected and remitted by draft. I
The hotels at Harrisburg and Johns- i
buwn wciu UUWIUIIBUIU. i? tuter uau
plent v of money and threw it about him I
like a voting lord. He was a generous,
frank, genial fellow with his equals, and
"the- Duclifl's of Philadelphia," ho wrot<?
to his mother, '-had tho entree, of!
course, to the best society everywhere.'
His last work w ?s the settlement of!
some claim iu th<> mountainous conn-1
tie?, then he could go home. These I
people with whom he now had to deal
nad not heard of the Ducliffs, but they
were well-bred and educated,and Walter
found friends on every side. It was
himself, he though.t, not his ancestors
which gain el him friends here.
Now STalter was not strong, and the
change from his hothouse life to the j
bitter cold of the mountain range began I
to tell on him. \V hen the last paper ;
was signed, and he stepped into the cars, j
ho w.is hot and feverish. In two days !
ho would be at home.
When he reached Altoona, then only
a small wayside station, it was late in
the afternoon. As he went into the
waiting-room a telegram was handed to 1
him.
"If possible, go to Wright's furnace
and take directions from dutton as to
railroad.
" Where is Wright's furnace ?" he
asked of the station master.
" Back sixty miles on tho branch that'
yon crossed M noon. Tho express has j
j ast gnne. Xo other but tho freight!
train. You had better wait until morning.'*
Seeing that the boy hesitated,
" There's a sform coming up."
To go on at all was to give up the
ball he and Jennie had talked of for
months. " He says ' if possible,' and it
is not possible." The next instant he
blushed with shame. If he waited until
to-morrow he would be too late for
Christmas and disappoint his mother.
" I'll go to-night," he said.
"The freight train's not heated,mind,
ung man."
4 I'll go."
"Plucky little chap," said the stationmaster,
as Dncliff, valise in hand, sprang
upon the dirty cars as they rumbled
along. He crept into the comer of one
and fell asleep. About 11 o'clock the
conduotor shook him:
" Hero's your landing place, my lad." j
"Eh? riow? The furnace?"
" No, tlu> nearest station. Wright's
furnace lies two miles np that road, j
You'd better stay aboard the train and ;
corny down from Finville in the morn- :
j iug. It's a rough tramp through the
s:iow, nnd there's no tavern nt tho furi
nnce. Unless you've got friends there?" I
"No, no."
The snort', mixed with a sharp sleet,
was falling. Walter looted out at the ;
ghostly shapes of the mountains and
tho'break in the great forest up which j
he was lo walk. The solitude of tho |
night was in itself terrible.
"Good-night. I'll risk it," he said,!
jumping off. The old knight among
bis progenitors had not shirked clanger;
and he could do his devoir if it were !
onlv to keep a promise to his mother or j
be prompt in his work as a merchant's |
1_
uierK.
Ho.had high cavalry boots, but the
f.now oozed in at the tops of them, and
his feet were soon an inch deep in icy
water. The two miles' walk up the ra- 1
j vine lengthened into six, he wandered j
!so often-from the path. Ue sang,!1
j laughed at every fresh tumble, made
jokes to himself, which seemed imper- ;
tinent in the face of the awful solitude. 1
But he could not hide the fact that his '
legs wero racked with pain and his
stomach was empty. He had forgotten
to eat any supper. Just after the turn 1
of the night a new moon threw a ghostly '
whiteness over tho mountains, and he 1
saw the shape of half a dozen houses 1
black against the snow. Now that help
was mar he felt how ill he realiy was. | '
"Furnaces, blacksmiths' shops,-carpenters'
shops," he added, passing some j '
empty sheds. But two houses were | '
loft nno ? linnrlsnmp villn flip either il t 1
low shanty. " I'll not disturb the Sut- ; '
tons to-uight," knocking at the last. J
The knock sounded threatening enough <
against the unbroken silence. A win- 1
i dow overhead was raised.
" Who's there?" in a woman's quaver. '
j "A gentlemau on business, to see Mr. I
| Sutton."
" Mr. Sutton'3 in Washington ; been j
j there six months." | r
Bang ! down came the window. Wa1- :
! ter again pounded at the door. j
"Yoxx must take me in. I'll pay you
| well for lodging and supper," he said, ?
peremptorily. j
" Don't keep a tavern ; go to Sutton's : ?
if yer business is with Sutton." | j
"Iought to have done that at first,'
remembering his resolve never to deal ?
with boors. 1
In a minute he wus knocking con- ?
fidently on the grim lion's head of Sut 1
ton's imposing front door. There was j ?
a great deal of confusion within, terri- j
tied voices calling to each other. Visi- : I
tors of any kind were an unusnal event \
in tho mountain solitude ; but one iu : fl
the middle of a winter's night only sng- j
gested burglars or murderers. At last , t
the door opened a narrow crack and v
the old coachman stood peering out, I
with candlo in hand. : v
"Who's there?" in a broad Irish L
tongue. i v
" It's I," persuasively. "A messen- y
ger from Philadelphia on business to j ?
Mr. Sutton.
" Mr. Sutton's gone. But there's a j v
wheen of men folks about the house," | f
hastily. i c
"I'm no housebreaker,1'edging his way : 1
in. "Pray give my respects to Mrs. js
Sutton," loudly, for he caught a glimpsj j l
of white skirts on the stairs, " and say j *
that young Mr. Ducliff is here and begs
she will give him shelter for the night. . J
I?well, to tell the truth, I am exceedingly
cold and hungry." s
"Keep out, keep out, young man; t
I'll consoolt Mrs. Sutton." And Walter t
heard a hurried consultation of tongnes j
in the hall, the coachman's deprecatory i
and soothing. "Nabbit but a cleet of a j q
lad, ma'am. No harm in him, I'll war- j r
rant yeep." J i
tfnt tho ladv's voice x^as sham and de
eisive. "It's a mero feint to enter the s
house," and then followed whispers of'
"plate" and " unarmed." "I know of i:
no DuelifTs," she said, looking fujl at
Walter '' Say to the roan that it in im- t
possible for me to admit a stranger
during my hnsband's absence."
But before the man conld reach the j
door Walter was gone. She had seen
his face plainly, and had taken him for
a burglar. Ho went over to one of the
sheds and sat down. The cold and !
hunger mattered little. The insult |
from a woman tilled his heart with rage j
and pain t-uch as he had never felt be- ,
foie. It was a blow in the face when
his own hands were tied. It was the j
first time in his life that an insulting
word had been spoken to him. ! (
" I wonderif that blockhead Joe feels i
like this when he can't give mo back j
my abuse," ho -fdtfttered. Just then '
the shanty window opened, again. The
woman had overheard all that had been
said at Sutton's. .' v
" See hyur, you bov,"*he called.
Walter promptly crossed the road.
He had concluded to lay aside his
dignity till a warmer and less hungry '
time. i
"It's a plaguey risky thing to take
you. There's nobody hyur but me and \ *
my da tei, she said, with her head out s
of the window. i s
" I have every respect for you and ; '
your daughter, madam." , r
" Well, it's certain you 11 /reeze if you 1
stay out there. I'll venture it." She b
came downstairs and opened the door, s
which her rafr-boned figure quite filled, i 0
Beyond it he saw a smoldering fire on *
the hearth. Jennie's ball, with all its r
light and brilliancy and music, was dull
beside the delight of that dirty kitchen's *
warm hearth. c
"I haven't another bed," she said, J
s'and not ranch in the way of a supper,
neither," putting down upon the table ^
a loa: of bread and some cold bacon. ?
"Lord sakes alive ! Why, you're nigh
onto starved," as she watched him eat. ^
"The disease is soon cured," he said, I
with his mouth full. "And if you'll f
give me a bit of blanket or carpet I'll '
dry my clothes and sleep here on the j '
floor." ! ?
"You'ro easy pleased," suspiciously i ?
Avainf him with her bulf-shut'. oyps nn<{ ?
then satisfied that sho could ' scrunch 1 s
bioi with one hand," she added: "You're
not the sort o' build they make housebreakers
of. Them Suttons in a low,
unchristian 1 t, for all their money." j
"It was quite right for the lady to be
on her guard," Walter replies, haught-,
ily, standing by his order.
" Well, there's my old man'sbreeches.
Just hang your own to dry, and wrap
yourself in this rug." j
She returned upstairs, and it seemed
to Walter but a moment before ho was 1
stretched before the blaze, dr\, and :
floating off in a delicious dream.
"No trains stop at this station until
to-night, you say? ' he demanded, as ho j
rose from breakfast next morning.
" No. You've got to wait. As to!
crossing tho hill to Wayne's station, you
might do it in tho summer, but it's im- j
possible now. Tho express train stops ,
there at noon."
'' How far is it ?"
"It's impossible, I tell you! It's only |
>bout eight miles, but the snow is waist j1
deep. The rsad lies along the old
track."
The "old track" was the line of the |1
Pennsylvania Central railroad around a f
hill. The rails had been removed, but ;
the cross-ties stiil remained on the 1
abandoned road. Walter inspected it, <
and after a few rods found it very pleas- ; !
ant walking. He came back "for his ; (
j valise.
14 I'm going to try it," he called over ! 1
| the cow-yard fence to his hostes-s, who : 1
: was milking.
" The more fool you. You'll be back j
in half an hour." | ]
It was in the day of gold pieces. He i i
nnf a pnnnlfi in lipr liftnrl " T ninnnt I i
pay you for your kindness," he then j
1 said, shaking it cordially.
" All right. We've got to help each j
other, yon know. But X don't take j
money; I don't keep tavern no more 1
than the Sutton's," giving him back the
; money.
Walter laughed, and passing the little
girl in the road put it into licr pocket
The woman called out after him that
; he'd bo back in half an hour.
The sun W8S shining through a silvery
gray mist when he started. In an
hour the mist was wet and impenetra '
. ;;'\r. .. ...
? / T vf . -1 *
Me, and as for the sun, it was gone. A
mountaineer would Lave hurried to
shelter, but Walter marched on shouting
the Marseillaise.
How long he wandered in that short
cut he never knew. The gray, branchless
trunks of oaks and birches strctched
their thick ranks to the horizon ; the
soft snow lay beneath, whito and trackless
; the sharp sleet cut hi.s face and
t'.-ok his breath. He .-.trapped his valise <
on his back and plodded, his face whito i
and tenth se^..
It grew darker; and it was only when t
the moon eacne out?now low donn the j
slope of the sky?that he realized he I
had been waudering all day and far into f
the right. Another hour passed. The
snow rose higher about his body ; half ]
crazed as he was, it seemed a living
grave creeping up to cover him ; it was 1
a matter of life and death for him to go -<
on. i
" But I cannot go on," he said, with ?
whito lips. An awful shivering seized c
him ; for th* first time in his life he lost 1
control of his limbs. He looked up c
into the clouds with the feeling that c
God was there somewhere. If he knew I
Him better he would pray to Him. But a
it was a long time since lie had known ]
liow to pray; like many college t
boys he thought that was a matter for
women and children more than for men.
IIo unstrapped the valise and put it
3own under a dead tree, and then lay
lown beside it. The snow was soft and
tvarm; ho could not fighfc against the t
unnatural drowsiness.
"This is death, then," he said. He g
bad often thought of the agony of the c
last parting with his mother, and how
Lie could overcome it with noble
:houghts and soldierly courage, but '
now he only thought how comfortable
he snow was?warm as a feather bed.
[f his feet were only dry! His eyes
closed. The feathery flakes began to
nil on his face.
Suddenly, but a little way off, a roarng
voice began to sing:
And the aunts and tho cousins
Came out by tho dozens;
All blood relations to me, Lord Donamore.
Walter moved uneasily and sat up.
rhe lethargy of coming death was
leavily upon him; ho hnew through it
hat there was a chance for life; but rest
vas sweeter, no nuns ciown again j
rhen the boy remembered his promises ^
mil it stung him like a spur. He got v
lp, clapped his arms weakly to bring -j
jack the circulation, and staggered on r
l few stops. Before him was a low hut, (.
:onstructed of unplaned boards the i
imoke pouring through a pipe in the a
oof.
'Oh! it's there you'll hear the thrushes warb- ,
ling, 1
n tho vales convanient to sweet Balliufad." r
The voice was unmistakably vicious 1:
.nd drunk. ?
"Some bloodthirsty cut-throat," '
bought Walter. " Who else would be 0
patching at this time of night ?" *
He took off his seal ring, gold ^
patch and diamond scarf-pin and *
Iropped them into his boots. There 8
fas no use of tempting him to murder. '
Chen he walked on and pushed open ^
he door. v
"God savo us!" shouted a kindly ?
oice, and with the next breath Walter ?
elt himself in a pair of strong arms c
nd carried like a babv to the five. Tho n
isat overpowered him. Ho tried to J
peak and then he lay as if dead on the 8
nan's knees. s
* * * * * * *
"And it's Christmas day, you sav, J1
im?" . h
"Christmas it is'. Here's your hot v
oup, now. Bo the powers! it'll be ! ?
ho job to stretch the provisions till |
o-morrow, you greedy young gossoon, n
'ou!" 8
Walter laughed and drow himself 8
[uickly up in bed, leaniug against the f
can's breast, while ho ato the steam- ^
ng mutton broth out of a crock. ^
" I never tasted anything so good," s
oaking the last drops into a crust. ! 0
"Well, three days ago, when ye came ; ^
n that dure, I thought it wa3 yer coffin f
'd be makin' fur yees instead of soup." [ J'
im pulled up the straw pillow at his ! j1
>ack and settled his head, stroking back i P
lis hair, with fingers black, to bo sure, ;
rat gentle as a woman's. On a chair by j 8
be fire hung Walter's clothes, clean and j*
Iry, but ragged with dragging through ' "
riars and rocks.
ii it naan t neen ior yon, jim, 1 u
iavo needed a coffin, sure enough," said 11
Walter. 01
" Be jabbers, I thought you were a , P
ollier's boy from the pit. There's one ^
hero has just the cnt of your face. e
Vlien I found your jowolry I know'd *
lillerent, of course. There it is, by-the- "
>ye, on the shelf." . ^
He handed it to Walter, but tho boy V
et. the glittering heap fall on the bed, j 8
,nd took the red grimy hand in both of 8
lis. ! ^
"Oh, Jim!" ho cried. After a while ?
io said: " You couldn't have done more j "
or me if I had been your brother." | ^
Jim josrked his hand away with a ^
' Sicksh!" He was not given to tulk- ; s
ag sentiment. i
" D'ye suppose any -nan ud sit still | ^
?id a boy freezing at his dure ?" ho ^
aid, gruffly; but he was pleased. Walter [ d
aw it. Ho lay wondering why he had | u
jecomesoionu 01 uns man, wno was j "
lothing but an Irish laborer Bet to ' ^
vateli the railroad by which the hut i s1
tood. It was not only that he had c:
aved his life; it was for the strength fi:
.nd tenderness and a queer pathetic ! a
nimor that lay under his dirt and ig-: h
lorance. ' J1
"So you thought I was a collier "
oy," he said, presently. "Why, I am h
me of the Ducliffs of Philadelphia, d
rim" b
"All blood relations to me Lord t(
Jonarnore 1" ho sang. Walter's face
;re\v red but he laughed. 11
Tho shriek and whistle of the train 8'
vas heard just then, and Jim dinap- S'
reared with his flag, but came back h
rrinning with delight and carrying a a
nisket. " I told the stoker about you c
csterday and he fetched a bit of beef, j
ind his old woman sent you some lay, i s
md the fireman brought you a chicken. | c
iy golly, we'll have a Christmas dinner a
ifter all." j C
" Why, they never saw me,-' cried j a
iValter. j IV
" I reckon we've ail *rot f o help each j tl
)ther," taid Jim, cm Illy, cutting up his ! t.
ihicken. " Father Forbea said on Sun- ?
lav that that was 4ho rale mcaiiin' of; ^
Christmas day." j 1
Tlie meaning of Chrir-taias! It never i tl
jad any meaning to him beyond Jen- ! I
rie's hall and some pretty gift to Lis ; a
other. h
Could it mean this brotherly love c
hese people showed him, that ho felt i
for Jim, tljat he won Id feel for every !
man, perhaps, if he Lut kncw them j b
better and nearer ? Could it be thut 1
which the Child had come to teach, , u
vho had Ilia birth in a meaner shelter ! ^
,han this, among men more ignoiant! R
md poor? h
The long winter .Uy stole on. Jim j k
looked and nursed, dashed out at inter-j i
rals to signal a])proaching trains, and
made a jolly day of it. Walter was
,-ery quiet.
" You're a bit homesick," said Jim, in c
;ho evening, noticing the tears in the c
yoy's eyes, as ho lay looking over the
snow trees, crimsoned in tho setting R
>nn, to t)io sky which seemed curiously , t
icar aboro them. " In two days you j j
?an go; but it's a pity you couldn't have ! j
jone to church with your mother to- I ^
Jay." j (
"I'm not homesick, Jim. And I've t
found something in the old shanty |
srliich I never learned in church.' ' (
j (
"Father," asked Johnny, "what is a t
log?" "A log, my son,*' replied Brown, ]
stealing a hasty- glance ac Mrs. B. to '
see if she was listening for his answer, <
"a log, my son, is a big piece of wood <
nr fimhfir. Whv do von ask. Johnnv ?" i
"Ittella in this story about heaving1
tbo log, anil it says the ship went four - 11
teen knots an hour. What does it 1
mean by knots, father?" "Knots, i
Johnny??kuots? Why, you have seen !1
a log?almost always covered wiih knots |'
?haven't you? Well, that's what it ]
means?fourteen of them?the sbip got 11
by fourteen of them in an hour. That's j i
all, Johnny," said Brown, with a sigh Ij
of telief that he had got out of it so 1
easily.
liRINGIXK HIM TO TEIOIS.
A Scout Tells All out llrlglinm Voiiiis'b Arrest
bv (Jencrnl Hnrncr.
" You must have seen considerable
of General Custer during jour life on
the frontier?" remarked the reporter
irquiringly, as the scout lighted bin
pipe and seated himself opposite.
" Yes, I was with his command occasionally
from tbo time ho came to
the plains until the time of his death.
[ worked for him but very little as a
icout or guide, but hunted for him.
it various times. I was at the Rosebud
agency sit the time" he was massacred."
" He was a goo'i Indian fighter, was
ic not?"
" That depends upon what you mean :
jy a ' good Indian fighter.' He was a
rery brave man, but a rashly brave '
nan. T fin nnh think tlifi Tnrlinn uriq i
sver born whom Custer was afraid
)f. Ho appeared to take perfect ae- '
ight in exposing himself "to danger, <
md oftentimes when there was no use '
>r sense in his so doing. He used to i
lalt his command at sight of Indians, ]
md himself ride forward to reconnoiter. '
le would ride up so near them that 1
hey would open fire on him and then i
le would turn in his saddle, swing his i
lat for the troops to come on, and, 1
without waiting for them to come up ]
vith him, put spurs to his horse and i
lash down upon the Indians with the i
rallets fairlv raining around him.
"Now, my idea ot a brave man and 1
;ood Indian fighter is one who first as - <
lertains the strength of the enemy, and '
hen, if he thinks he can win, makes <
he attack with coolness and judgment. <
rhen let him show his bravery by fight- ]
ng like the devil. In my opinion it is 1
joor generalship for a commanding '
ifiicer to needlessly put himself m a j
>osition to be shot at the very outset of 3
in engagement, and thus take a chance f
>i leaving nis command witnour, us
eader. If to be afraid of nothing, i3
o bo brave, Custer was the bravest of
ho brave, Harney was the best miliary
leader for the plains I ever met.
Ie was cool and deliberate in his
jraveness, but was a lion in a fight."
"When were you with him ?"
"I was with him at the time of the
fountain Meadow massacre, and I went
o Salt Lake City with him when ho
vent down there to interview Brigham
foung. Now there was an incident conlected
with that trip that I do not
hink was then reported, or has ever
>een written up. It shows the kind of
. man Harney was."
"Tell me about it."
"When he heard about the massacre
le sent out scouts to find out who the
Qurderers were, and when they re>orted
to him that they wore Mormons,
iff he went with his entire command
or Salt Lake City, swearing every rod if
^lin tt'ntr f linf Km linrirt I Vin
u uiiu u a J viithu xi'.- nuuxu uau^ iuu i
aurderers if be had to hang every '
lormon in Utah. He intended to give (
Jrigham Yonng twenty-four hour3 to <
urrender up the murderers, and unless 1
his was done, Latter-Day Saints would f
ie mighty scarce around there. Before
?e reached Salt Lake City a messenger
vertook us with orders from the war
.epartment for Harney to return to
amp; that the civil authorities would
ttend to the massacre business. Then
ou ought to have heard the old man
wear. I never met a man who could
wear more violently than Harney.
He thought the matter over for a
ittlo while, ana then declared that he
iad started for Salt Lake City, and he
rouid go there if he was court-martialed
nd shot for it. And he went, too ; and
f the wp.r department ever heard of it
o action was taken. We camped a
hort distance outside the city, and
tayed a few days to give the animals a
est, and they needed it eadly, for we
ad traveled fast. The morning that
re started back to Yuma a young girl,
flvnnfpmi or flichtfiori vA&rK old. enroe
ut to the camp and applied to Brady,
he train master, to help her escape,
[er parents were English, who had
jined the Mormons not long before,
nd one of the elders wanted to marry
er. Her parents wero' trying to force
er to this polygamous marriage, and
lie could only avoid, it by running
way. She had an uncle and aunt in
Ian Francisco, and to them she wanted
^ go
"Brady wasn't the man to say 'no'
nder such circumstances, and he
towed her away in the flour wagon by
iling the barrels around her in such a
ray that she couldn't be seen from
ither end. We hadn't gone far before
dozen Mormons overtook us, the girl's
ither being along with them, and they
rent through that train until they
Dund the girl. After they got her out
be turned to Brady and bade him
ood-bye, at the same time thanking
im for trying to help her. That, of
ourse, gavo him dead away, and the
lormons arrested him for kidnaping
tie girl, and away they all went toward
lie city. Harney saw that there was
omething wrong with the train, and
ack came a messenger to see what was
lie matter. Aa soon as Harney was injrmed
of what had occurred, he orav/><1
fVi^ frt liolf on/1 afmr f.Vinva
UiVU lUV Viuiu WW imiu uuu vuviu ,
ntil he got back, and, swearing worse
liau before, away lie and all the troops ?
ent for the Mormons. They had a long J
tart on him, however, and reached the ?
ity first. Do yon suppose Harney 1
topped when he reached the city? Not jbit
of it. Right up the main street rj
e went at a gallop, and when he 1
imped from his horse and cried
1 Halt!" it was right in front of Brigands
office. There was a guard on
uty there with a musket and fixed *
ayonet, but as ho brought his weapon 1
d a charge Harney gave it a kick that t
urned tlie guard half round, and the c
ext instant he was disarmed. Harney f
trode into the olfico with a half dozen c
oldiers at his heels, and two minutes 1
iter Brigham was astraddle of a horse '
nd galloping down the street in the '
enter of a troop of cavalry. 1
" It was fun to see the Mormons ?
tare as they eaw the old man in such rJ
ompany, but before they had time to I t
ct we were out of the city. Abont | s
ivo miles ont Harney ordered a halt, i t
nd it wasn't long before a lot of | g
Iormons came riding up as fast as
beir horses could carry tliem. When
hey got up within sound of his voice
larney orderc-d them to halt or he
rould firo 011 (hem, and they halted, i
'hen he ordered Brigham to tell j
bem to go back to tho city and bring j
Jrudy and the girl bach with them, i
nd said to Brigham: 'If they are not j
ere inside of two hours, I'll fill your |
arcasH full of government lead.' ;
"4 You don't dare to,' nays Brigham.
" 'Why, you,' says Harney, 'I'll
hoot you myself!'
"Long before the two hours were
;p Brady and the girl were there, and
rhen we got to Yuma Harney sent a
;uard with her to San Bernardino, on
ier way to S:vn Francisco. That's the
:ind of a nun Harney was."?Detroit
'Vee Press.
Atrocities iu Ashuntee.
Referring to tho reported massacre
if 200 young girls by order of the king
if Ashantee, Africa, the London Stand
ml hays: Only recently?bo runs the I <
tory?some ' swish" was required for j 1
he repair of one of the royal buildings | <
n Coomassie. Now, the "swish" used 1 <
n ordinary houses is simply red earth (
vorked up with water until it thus ac- i
piires a certain degree of tenacity. But 3
his vulgar mortar was rot sufficient for <
he king's pnrposes. Accordingly, he ' ]
lirected 200 young girls to be mur- j ]
lered in order that blood might be used ! |
;o moisten the clay out of which the ]
oalivco walls were to be constructed. ]
this ferocious mandate was duly t;xe- (
juted, the only one of the victims who (
escaped being the refugee who has car- (
ried the tale to Cape Coast castle 1
For the sake of human nature one ;
tvould fain believe this atrocious story 1
;o be an invention,-though, unfortun- ;
itely, it is so thoroughly in keeping ;
tvitii wnat wo Know 01 Asnanree cub- :
tome, and so much on a par with similar
superstitions elsewhere, that we fear
there is a large element of truth in it,
even should it prove to be exaggerated
in a few minor particulars. The Ashantees,
like their neighbors, the Ffons of
Dahomey revel in human blood. The
king's Ochras, or buffoons, are slaughtered
when ho dies, and the " king's
stool," on -which is sprinkled a few
drops of the blood of evc-rv person executed,
-when Inst seen was a horrible
spectacle. The executioner!} are men
of hinh rank. The most trifling offense
is punished by decapitation, and so
familiar is this scene to the residents in
Coomas8ie that when the little son of
one of the German missionaries?who
were freed by King Xoffee on the approach
of our troops?was angry with
s,ny one ho would exclaim: "Yourhead
will fall to-morrow!" The town resembles
a charnel house. The piles of
skulls and bones heaped up at intervals
testify to the long continuance of these
inhuman practices, and even when the
army of Sir Garnet Wolseley entered
the place the putrefying bodies, still
stench.
The story which the Ashantee girl
Lias brought from Coomassie iB a terrible
sxample of one of those fearfnl " survivals
" which the ethnologist is daily
unearthing. If the ting mixes his
pa^aoe "swish" with the blood of 200
m,jins, he is only afrrineteenth centnry
representative of tahe twelve master
masons who, when the walls of Copenhagen
sank as fast as they were built,
vaulted into them in innocent girl at
play, and thus allayed the wrath of the
northern "nisser." The bridge o? Artn
fell again and again; until the workxen
walled iu their master's wife, and we are
told that, in according with her d^ng
2urse, it tremblea- to this very day.
rhero is scarcely a church in Germany
Dr Denmark to which some such legend
:locs not attach, and in Polynesia temples
are pointed ouc tlie foundations of
which were imbedded in human bodies,
rwo years ago the native quarters of
Madras were wildly excited over a
ruiuur mur. mm guvemuiuub vruo
ibout to sacrifice ^several victims in
Drc'ler to insure she safety of_ the
lew harbor works, and a few years,
sarlier the same idea so generally prevailed
in Calcutta when the Hooghly
bridge was being constructed, that for
i time the people dreaied to go abroad
ifter dark lost they should be kidnaped.
In Galam, in Africa, a boy
ind girl used to be buried alive before
the chief gate of the city as a fetich to
make it impassable to an enemy, and in
Bambarra, Great Bassam and Yurriba
the same custom prevailed or still prevails.
In Bornea, in Japan, in Burmah, |
md, in addition to many other regions
in the Punjaub, liko idea3 of the efficacy
of human victims to insure the
safety of buildings hold their ground
Dr were universal within very recent
times. Into each post-holo of the
ijates of Tavoy a criminal was placed ;
tiumau victims wero burned under the
jates of Mandclay and under the f or
iress of Thatung, a queen is said to
lave been drowned in a Burmese reservoir
to make the dike safe, and the life
)f a widow's son was taken by the rajah
)f Sialkot with a view to insure the stability
of one of the bastiors of his
ort.
Old Time Congressional Perquisites.
The Washington correspondent of the
uouisville Courier Journal, discussing
he impropriations for contingent exDenses,
writes that the fir*t appropriaion
was an item in the appropriation
ict passed in September, 1789. The
iccounts of contingent expenses of the
Senate, commencing as early as 1780,
'.ontain many items which show that I
Senators in those days, as well as now,
iked their perquisite?,. In the early
lays of the republic, Senators?the very
athers of tlio country?subscribed for
nany papers, and the subscription
prices thereof were paid out of the contingent
fund. Stationery they put their
lands upon without limit. They used
.argo quantities of English gilt-edged
paper at ?9 and ?10 per ream. Not
)nly did they take stationery, but the
ecord.s show that our revered forefathers
were as agilo as their descendmts
in everything that was " contingent."
Penknives in thoso days were
oought by the dozeD, and so were silver
pencil cases, seals, memorandums and
ivafer boxes. When a committee of
Congress caliod upon the President of
;he United States, its hack hire was
paid from the contingent fund. The
>r?norpKsir>nal fnneral was a nice little
aunt?nobody can say that such is not I
;he case now. Hundreds of yards
)f black crape and of white sarsenet
were used in making mourning
icarfs, and gloves wyre supplied. Some
preferred white kid. while others were
nore practical, and with an eye to the
"uture utility of l!io funeral hand
overing, took beaver and buckskin
jloves. Francis Maloone, of Khocle
island died in 1809. His remains were
nterred in the Congressional cemetery,
imong the items of expenses for his
uneral were the following: Sixteen
jound of crackers, S3; eleven, and a
juarter pounds of cheese, ?2.81. The
'i nmitte to audit the expenses of the
Senate ovidently thought that though
heir bretheru seemed to bo on pleasure
jent, they should have the accompani- I
nent of a frugal meal. Therefore
hey economically ordered that paynent
be made for the crackers, but reected
the claim for the cheese. This
amo committee also bad presented to
t the following vouchor :
'oven gallons best Madeira wiuo $28 00
rour gallons Cognac brandy 8 00
Volvo pounds almonds 4 80
1en pounds of raisins 5 80
Tut ll $15 GO
The committao, after cogitating the j
natter, came to the conclusion, per-1
laps, that the partakers of these luxiries
had had almost too good a time;
if it, and eo they only allowed "for !
our gallons of :vine and three quarts j
if brandy, 822." At the same time,
lowever, they passed another voucher {
' for fourteen pounds of cake, $7," and j
' twelve pounds of crackers at $1.50." j
Che following is in the account of the
Jonate contingent expenses for 1809:
thirty-four gallons syrup, 8103; iifeen
gallons syrup, $10; fifteen gallons
yrup 8-10; fifteen gallons syrup, $40;
hirty-flvo gallons syrup, ?40; fifteen
gallons syrup, $19; total, $333. What!
his syrup was does not appear. There
s a tradition among the older officers of
ho Senate that it was used in the conioction
of a beverage known as " switch
il." This is coiroborated by a voucher
>assed for two-quart decanters, evilently
to hold the syrup. The items
or beverages of different kinds scatered
over tlio books of accounts for
sontingent expenses ore carious, and in
lie nineteenth Congress hero is one of
>123.37 for "soda water and syrup."
Jmbrellas, congress wator, engraved
icals, pearl nail knives and toilet sets
vere then secured by Senators
Hit of the contingent expenses.
Camels in War.
A very curious report on camels in
m* has been published by the Russian
joverninont. The reasons why camels,
vhich are so useful to commercial caravans
in steppes, are so useless in war,
s because the hours of rest and meals
:or men and camels are diflerent. SolIiers
rise early and march at once.
Camels cannot move until they have j
jeen fed, so the %camel-drivers are!
jbliged to be up before all tho rest of the j
jamp, and when tlio army halts camellrivers
must go with the beasts to
iVdter and must supply them with
nany buckets of water. Again, the
jamel in war is overloaded and irregularly
loaded, and the burden irregularly
packed in war, all of which embarrasses
;he camel, while in trade caravans the
load is always the same, and i? always
packed in a uniform manner. MoreDver,
soldiers soon hate camels because
3f their disgusting habit of spitting
Dn people when they are angry. So
there is bred constant war between
man and beast, and naturally the beast
succumbs. The English in the Afghanistan
campaign lost (50,000 camels, the
Russians lost 10,000 in the war of 1870,
unci in iuej war ui ioou, wtsspiie
every reform in the organization of
camels, despite care taken to engage
good camel-drivers and to pay them
well, camels collectei in large numbers
could not bear the fitigues of a campaign,
and perished with "frightful
rapidity."
- ' \ ' ' '
FOR THE LADIES.
Wintor Donnctx.
Small bonnets made entirely of
feathers are among the recent importations,
and arc offered in lieu of the
feather turbans which havo already become
so familiar, and are copied in such
coarse feathers that they are losing
favor. These bonnets are made of
breast feathers laid close over the entire
frame of small capote shapes, and have
for trimming a bird perched on one
side, or else two heads are crossed near
the top. The lining of the brim shows
in the front and is made of glace plush
that combines the colors in the feathers,
and the strings are of changeable plusli
n'KVtrkn mof/*h ^PVi oun nrA
IIWUUU IV UiUlVU* JLUtOtJ UUUUUIO l?l V
very handsome in blue-green irnpion
feathers; and in the brown and rod
mixed pheasant feathers they aro also
useful, as they are appropriate "with
suits of any of the various colors that
appear in the feathers, as well as with
black costume?.
Red bonnets are the favorite of the
winter. Tho taste for the gay red
plumes that were seen on so many
round hats at the summer resorts has
increased until entire bonnets or great
round hats of this single color, through
various shades, from shrimp pink to
garnet, are seen. There are street hats
for morniDg of red felt and beaver, and
the most dressy hat for receptions is of
red plush with phrimp pink feathers.
Young ladies choose for the street the
tall crown and wido-brimmed Mother
Shipton hats of dark garnet felt, or peri
r i n..
ii up a wiin iur-u^uvur tjugea uii me
straight brim, though it is equally popular
to have a pull' of velvet or plush as
a binding on the wide flat brim. A row
of nodding ostrich feather tips in red
shades is then sot around the crown,
and completes the hat. This hat is
most picturesque when set straight on
top of the head, shading the forehead
well in the way similar hats are worn by
-peasants, rather than in the Gainsborough
fashion, far back on the head
to display the coiffure. For ladies
who prefer bonnets, and for
dressy receptions, there are the
new round crown pokes with brim
projecting downward, mad" of red
velvet or plush. There are always two
kinds in such pokes?a smooth fabric
for the crown, and figured velvet or the
new pomponette plush for the brim.
The smooth material drawn over the
crown in a single piece, instead of being
cut to fit it, and the front is laid on in
folds, wrinkles or plaits; shirring is
very little nsed in this way at present. A
single cluster of ostrich tiprs on the left
is enough trimming for such a bonnet,
and strings may be dispensed with.
Small bonnets are preferred for dress
by ladies who adopt here the prevailing
Parisian style. Cream white and
Blxrimp pink are the colors most used
for these, and the materials of white
bonnets are of remarkable fine beaded
net and lace, with white pearl or iridescent
beads in Spanish designs. This
lace is laid over satin, and droops over
the coronet front, leaving the scallops to
rest on tbe hair in a most becoming
way. Three comb-like curves of beads
are on the crown, and the only trimming
is the panache of white ostrich
tips on the left side. White moire or
pinsn strings. a snrimp pint piusia
similarly made has white Oriental laco
for its trimmings.
The favorite black bonnet that forms
a part of almost every lady's outfit is of
plush this winter in preference to veil
vet. The front of the brim is of pomponotte
plush, or else of plain plush
nearly concealed by the ostrich feathers
that are laid close upon it. The crown
is plainly covered, and is quite prominent
by reason of its height, and because
it is left in relief by the trimming
being placed far forward on the brim.
Two or three rows of jet faceted beads
are inside tho brim, and the strings are
moire or plush ribbon. For a more
youthful black bonnet, the Bolero
hat is covered with black plush quite
smoothly, and feathers are the only
trimmings. The inexpensive black hats
for general wear that ladies are apt to
arrange at home have small crowns of
black felt?broad crowns belong to last
year's bonnets?with long napped brims
in poke shape. Alarae bow of ribbon,
either black or colored, is placed on the
left side, and one or two demi-long
plumes, held by this bow, droop down
the right side. The brim is left "raw"
?that is, not bound?aud a facing of
plash is inside, beginning two inches
from the edge, and under this is a wire
to keep the brim in shape. The strings
match the bow of ribbon ou the oatside.?Bazar.
\
KdhIiIoii FauclCN.
Muffs are worn very small.
Far-lined wraps are in demand.
Plush in fancy colors is made into
evening bonnets.
Handsome wraps are edged with
beaded plush baud.0.
Copper, brickdust aud terra cotta are
the fashionable colon.
Cloaks are worn longer this season
than for some time past.
Grecian bands for the hair are made
of silver inlaid with mock gems.
Watered silks are more in demand
than they have been for some years.
Plnshcs and velvets, plain and embossed,
aro used for trimmings of satin
Surah and for wool stuffs.
While bead passementeries are on the
wane as fashionablo trimmings, black
jet is more worn than ever.
Earrings, except where brilliant solitaires
or other gems are to be exhibited,
are less worn than ever before.
Filling ft Foreign Order.
"Say, my dear," said Mr. Spoopendyke,
as he finished reading a letter he
had just received, "my brother, out
West, wants me to buy a razor strop and
a -uitable present for a young lady, and
send them to him."
" I didn't know that a razor'strop was
a suitable present for a young lady,"
replied Mrs. Spoopendyke, who was
busy mixing catnip tea, and cauglit the
remark imperfectly.
"It would be a suitablo present for
some dod gasted married woman, if it
would sharpen 'em up any I" retorted
Mr. Spoopendyke. "Who said anything
about a razor strop and a young
lady ? What 1 observed was that my
brother out West wants me to send him
a razor strop and a present suitable for
a young lady. Now, I can get the
strop, but J. don't understand what kind
of a present he wants."
" Let me see," mused Mrs. Spoopendyke,
her shopping instincts rising to
the surface. " Does he say what kind
of a young lady she is ?"
" No, ho doesn't!" roared Mr. Spoopendyke.
" He leaves something to the
imagination of the reader. I suppose
she's got arms and legs, 'cause if she
hadn't he would probably have mentioned
it. What he wants is a present
for an averaere woman: now wlmt nuri
wo get for lier ?"
"It I knew wlietker she was a blonde
or a brunette I could tell better what
she would like," replied Mrs. Spoopendyke,
who, like the rest of her eex,
always associated a woman with tho
color that becomes her best. " Do you
suppose he means something for her to
wear or some ornament for her house ?
You see I don't know whether she
keeps house or boards or lives at
home."
" What difference does that make?"
demanded Mr. Spoopendyke. " She's
probably a human being, but we will
suppose she roosts iu a tree. Does that
help you any ? Can you think of something
useful for a female who lives in a
tree and hops with light-he,.rted skips
from bough to bough like a dod gasted
crow V"
"Youmight get her a toilet set?"
suggested Mrs. Spoopendyke, taking
reliugo in a woman's one idea of an ap- i
propriate present for another woman. !
" She don't want a toilet set," snorted j
Mr. Spoopendjke, "any more'n she j
wants the chickon-pox! You want to
think of something that is pretty and
at the same timo th t she can use. Now
think!"
?' How would one of the new painted
porcelain flower pots do?" ventured
Mrs. i3poopendyke.
" That's it!" howled Mr. Spoopendyke,
"a flower pot with a measly
saucer under it to plant the tree in
when it turns cold! That your idea?
One with broken-?egged bags painted
on the outside and a hole in the bottom,
bo she can nse it in the spring for
a spy-glaes I That's the idea! A fourdollar
flower pot for a six-cent rose
bush with the blind staggers and a
touch of the pip I Where's the pot?
Fetch forth the highly seasoned flower
pot!" and Mr. Spoopendyke leaned
back in his chair and glared at his
wife.
" I'll tell you what will do, my dear,"
said Mrs. Spoopendyke, approaching
the next suggestion cautiously. " Why
not send an album ?"
ii Vnn moon rvnn nf fnan V>*>/\lra fn* o
lot of idiots to wish they were dead
in ?" asked Mr. Spoopendyke, suspiciously.
"No," replied Mrs. Spoopendyke.
" a photograph album."
" Don't want it," sniffed Mr. Spoopendyke,
contemptuously. "You mean
that sort of a thing a girl brings out
after tea and says: ' That's ma and
that's pa, and that's Aunt Yin and her
little boy, and that's Uncle Si, and
that's Aunt Flo, and that's Uncle Jes
and that's my niece Nellie, ain't she
sweet ? And that's a dog we used to
to own, and I don't know who that is,
and that's Clara Morris !' Don't want
it ! And Mr. Spoopendyke's voice rose
to a steam-whistle pitch. S'pose I'm
going to inflict a suffering public with
a bookful of old stagers that all look
alike and have been in every measly
album since Adam began to wear p >nts?''
Can't ye think of something sensible?"
"Wouldn't half a dozen forks be
nice?" faltered Mrs. Spoopendyke,
-1 L -J. 1 _
almost ai ner wit a euus
"Just the thing!" gasped Mr. Spoopendyke.
"Half a dozen pitchforks and
a ton of hay. Then you might throw in
an eight-day hen-coop and a cat climbing
over the back fence! You've got
ideas about such things ? All you want
is a chin whisker and a chimney to be
a dot-gasted Santa Clans! With yonr
intelligence on these subjects you only
need a strike and a glue pot to be a toy
shop! I'm going to buy this present
myself!" and Mr. Spoopendyke shot
out of the house and tore down the
street with his head sunk in his shoulders
and his fists in his pockets.
In an hour he returned all grins and
tossed a parcel in his wife's lap.
"Now, my dear, what do you think of
that ?" he asked, cheerfully.
Mrs. Spoopendyke opened the parcel
and disclosed a huge crimson silk handkerchief
that would have made a tabernacle
tent for a camp-meeting.
"How did you come to think of it?"
she asked, holding it up admiringly.
"Why," replied Mr. Spoopendpke,
" he said in the letter that if I couldn't
think of anything else to get a handsome
handkerchief. Here it is," and
Mr. Spoopendyke drew out the letter^
triumphantly.
"But he don't 6ay handkerchief, he
says a nice handkerchief ring! Here's
the ring on the next line," said Mrs.
Spoopendyke mildly, planting her
thumb on the supplemental word.
" Dod gast the dod gasted woman !"
he howled. "Why don't he write
plain ? Why didn't you tell me before
wnat Jie wanteu ~i wnat cua you let me
break my neck to get this fla^ for when
he wanted a ring ? If I didn't have any
more sense than yoa've got I'd pat
broken glass on my head and hire out
for the back fence of an idiot asylum !"
And Mr. Spoopendyke dove into his
chair, and snored lustily until bedtime.
" Anyhow," thought Mrs. Spoopendyke,
as she put the handkerchief away,
' I can find out whero he bought it and
trade it out for match Bafes and lingerie
for the baby, and by the time he gets a
strflp to snit him I will be pretty well
fixed out for stockings and hair pins."
And Mrs. Spoopendyke fired another
charge of catnip into the baby, hushing
its startled cries as Mr. .Spoopendyke,
ast asleep, slid out of his chair like a
oad of coal.?Brooklyn Eagle.
The Leaning Tower of Pisa.
A correspondent, writing of the Leaning
Tower of Pisa, says that, whether by
accident or design, no one can now tell,
tbe inclination of the structure makes
it look and feel to the visiter as if it
were about to fail. It is 180 feet high,
and is thirteen feet out of the perpendicular.
This is stated everywhere, and
is no doubt true, but I suppose there
are many persons who, like myself, expected
to see a building standing erect,
the center of whose top was outside the
center of gravity.
This is not the case by any means. It
is true that a rope falling from the center
of the top would strike the wall at
the bottom of the tower side, but the
rope would not fall outside the tower
wall. In a short time 1 satisfied myself
and two other visitors of this fact. The
apparent contradiction of the laws of
nature disappears, then, in a moment.
Taking the building as a whole?letting
a line fall from the center at the
top?if this line fell outside of the base,
in that case the building would violate
the law of gravity if it remained standing.
I believe the architect planned
this optical delusion. There are no
signs of any giving way in the structure.
"vt 1_
no craCK or ere Vict! gives uvjueutu ui
rapid or slow settling of the walls.
The architect knew very well how
easily the eye can be deceived. The
firmness of the masonry, the gradual
asc?nt, the symmetry of the whole,
prove beyond a doubt that it was built
as it now stands. The walls below are
very thick, and unless these should give
way there is but one other method by
which the building could be overthrown.
If the stones were to slip from their
places, then, little by little, it would be
dislodged. But the whole structure is
keyed and bolted and cemented into a
solid mass. If it leaned nine feet more
than it does, then it would fall, because
tho sum of its weight would fall outside
of the center of gravity. The mystery
disappears at once when wo examine it,
but tho curious effect upon one's nerves
in making the ascent and stauding on
tho top is nevertheless real.
headman's Land.
A writer connected with ono of the j
Arctic exploring expeditions says : |
While tramping around beyond Green
Harbor, near where I found the cannon !
ball stones of such peculiar formation.
I came upon seveial wrecked aui rilled
graves. The men must have been
buried before the frost was out of the
ground, for the coffins were not covered,
but seemed to have been put into a
slight depression scratched in tho clay.
Tlie coffins had partially rotted away
and broken, and the grinning skull* j
and bleached bones were strewn about j
in horrid disorder, indicating that the
fox and bear had disturbed their rest.
I spent some time in gathering the j
bones of those poor fellows into their
original resting-place and covering
them up with rocks and sods of moss.
No history of these lonesome graves
could be cleaned, but it is likely that
they wero those of Norse or Russian
victims of the scarvy. It is possible
that they foil in some of those bloody
fights, gossips of which are still current
among the fishermen and hunters
of Northern Europe. The tradition
runs that more than two hundred j
years ago the Dutch and Russians, |
who camo here to harpoon whales, j
divided their time in bloody combats I
in which no quarter was given. The I
whalo fisheries were then very valua- !
ble and worth fighting about, so every
si lip sent out was fitted for offense and
defense. Some attempts at colonization
were stamped out in consequence
of this feud. If a colony of Russians
managed to survive the scurvy for a
winter and a Dutch ship arrived fresh j
from the south in the spring the colony j
was sure to bo obliterated, and the Rus- j
sians treated the Dutch with the same
kind consideration when they arrived :
first. The finding of unknown graves j
is quite common on the shores of all I
the bays and fiords of Spitzbergen. j
This dreary, inhospitable place might i
fittingly be called Deadman's Land, n \
name given to a small spot just outside
of Green Harbor in Ice *'iord.
SUNDAY READING.
Charlen Kinsley's Belief*
The late Charles Kingsley, the emi
nent English divine, wrote as follows
to an inquirer who asked him for counsel:
You are a sanguine man, my dear sir,
who ask me to solve for you the riddle
of existence, since the days of Job and
Solomon, since the days of Socratcs and
Bnddha; the especial riddle, too, of
our time, with its increased knowledge
of physical science. But what I seem
to know I will tell you. Knowing and
believing a great deal of the advanced
physical science of Darwin's school I
still can say I do not believe in the
existence of law. "Laws of nature,"
" laws impressed," or " properties impressed
on matter," are to mo, after
careful analysis of their meaning, more
jargon. Nothing exists but will. All
physical laws and phenomena are but
the manifestations of that will?one,
orderly, utterly wise, utterly benevolent.
In Him, " the Father," I can trust, in
spite of the horrible things I see, in
spito of the fact that my own prayers
are not answered. I believe that He
makes all things work together for the
good of the human race, and of me,
among the rest, as long as I obey His
will. I believe that He will answer my
prayer, not according to the letter, but
according to the spirit of it; that if I
desire good I shall find good, though
not the good which I longed for. And
law and necessity I lookon as phantoms
of my own imagination, always ready to
reappear, but always certain* likewise,
to vanish again before one sound blow
of careful logic or of practical life.
RcIIkIoim Intelligence.
It is estimated that the thirty-three
missionary societies at work in Africa
have secured upward of 30,000 converts.
The Tennessee Diocesan convention
of the Presbyterian Episcopal church
reports thirtv-four clergy, thirty-two
parishes and 2,738 communicants." The
confirmations during the year were 281.
The American Unitarian association
have taken steps to have a new commentary
on the Old and New Testaments
prepared. It has also appointed
a missionaiy to labor among the Scandinavians
of the West.
The Young Men's Christian associations
throughout the country are gradually
becoming provided with buildings
for carrying on their work. The Pittsburg
as'sociation have raised 550,000 as
a building fund.
In many parishes in England bags
ha?e been introduced to receive the offerings
o? the people instead of the
usual plates. As a consequence the
amount of the contributions has fallen
off, a good deal of copper money having
taken the place of silver and gold.
A Liverpool clergyman preached a sermon
upon the subject to his congregation,
taking for his text the words:
" Alexander, the coppersmith, did me
much evil."
The fifteenth annual synod of the
Reformed German church of the Northwest
met in the First German Reformed
church, Chicago, recently. Every Northwestern
State WU8 represented. About
sixty delegates were in attendance, including
a representative from Baltimore,
of the Eastern synod. The synod contains
eleven classes, 157 ministers, 240
congregations and a membership of 24,054
persons. It has charge of 209 Sabbath-schools,
in which there are 13,573
scholars.
What the Japs Eat.
M. T. Van Buren, United States consul-general
at Japan, presents some interesting
facts in regard to the food of
the Japanese people. With a populaOA
nnn nnn ^Uava ia + A UA * ?/i
IrlUJJl U1 Ul/jUUUjUUUj vugio acj iv ww XUUUV4
in tlio whole country bnt little more
tban 1,000,000 head of cattle. Of these
cnly 600,000 can be considered as fit
for food. Therefore there are but two
head of cattle for each 100 people,
whereas in the United States we have
for 100 mouths seventy-three cattle to
fill them. Japan slaughters, however,
36,000 head of cattle, more than onehalf
of which is eaten by the foreign
population, the rest being consumed by
the Japanese navy and army. Mutton
and pork are, outside of the treaty
ports, almost unknown. Fish enters
largely into the food of the people. Mr.
Van Buren mentions that "cod, salmon,
herring, mackerel, salmon, trout, carp,
eels, skate, mullet, catfish and plaice
are plentiful and cheap." It is known
that the government has taken active
measures in regard to fish-culture, and
endeavors in every way to increase the
products of the sea, sending for all
American publications on these
topics. Tho consul states that
" one-half of the people ate
fish every clay, one-quarter two or
three times a week, and the balance
perhaps once or twice a month." It is
their habit to eat a great many varieties
of fish raw. But the Japanese are more
essentially vegetarians than the Chinese,
and all the land and marine plants, with
the tubers, seem to be placed under contribution.
Among exceptional food
plants Mr. Van Buren mentions an
acorn which grows on a small bush
from three to four feet high, "it has
less sugar than the nut from the chestnut
tree of America, but has the merit
of being free from astringent and bitter
qualities. Large quantities of these
nuts are gathered, dried and eaten by
the people in various ways." This
edible acorn would be worthy of introduction
into this country. We hear a
great deal about glucose and dextrine
in the United States, and we find from
Mr. Van Buren's report that tho Japanese
use in largo quantities a substance
which they call amp. "This is a preparation
made from malted barley and
rice or millet, the malt converting the
starch of tbe rice or millet into dextrine
and maltose, and the product varying
from a thick sugar or honey up to a
hard candy. The same is sold at a low
price, and its eonsr uption is very
largeThe
(^astroscope.
l>r. Mikulicz, of Vienna, has invented
au instrument for illuminating and inspecting
the inside of the living human
stomach. He exhibited his apparatus,
upon which he has bestowed the title of
" gastroscope," to the leading professors
of the medical faculty at the Polyklinik,
and performed some interesting
experiments with it upon a female hospital
patient suffering from chronic
dyspepsia. It consists of a tube, fitted
with a* sot of minute but powerful reflectors
at one end, and connected at
the otlaer witn an eiccinc Datiery, Dy
which a brilliant light is projected into
the stomach requiring inspection. This
tube was passed down the subject's
throat, and remained there for fully
twenty minutes, during which time the
Viennese professors were enabled to!
diagnose the condition of every part of
the mucous membrane thus lighted up
and revealed to their gaze. The gastroscope
is considered likely to render I
invaluable services to the cause of
electro-endoscopic investigation, which
for tome time past has been proseputed
with ardor by eminent Austrian
cathologists.
Judicious Advertising.
At a recent convention of the stove ;
manufacturers held at Detroit, Mich.,
the president said: If we would make
the best possible use of our money we
should patronize ably conducted and
responsible newspapers. The newspaper
is immeasurably the best medium
...... tlio mnsfr. liliprnl ami
uprii liJ I'u; Uiutv , ??*%* v? ?- ?? .
expert advertisers testify to its value,
ami in tho employment of its columns
we would find a means of escape from
wasteful, undignified and ineffective
methods.
The Wheeler & "Wilson Sewing Machine
company state : In no department
of business is there probably so much
money wasted as in advertising, and in
no department are judgment and experience
more requisite. Twenty-live
years' experience has clearly demonstrated
the superior advantages and
economy of newspaper advertising over
all other mediums offered for that purpose.
Loadville now numbers 20,000 people.
I
. ? . tjra
Life in Arizona.
To a dweller in the city, says a gentleman
who has spent much of his time
in Arizona, the pictures of life in this
out-of-the-way region seem almost like
a wild romance. There are tragic and
comic scenes, brave men, wild men,
I honest men, and some not honest. In
i the mining camps life is commonly j
j safe, and property far more safe than in
| New York. Locks and bolts are little
l^own. A stranger may cast into
; corner his bag of gold, not e??u covering
it or attempting any com .almen^
and be sure to find it at any time afterward
untouched, or if removed, only to
secure it for him. Justice is swift and *
pretty sure to follow crime; but there
are some strange methods of adminifl- ^
tration, as the following instance w?ll
bTicitu- Dnn man IrillAfl nnnthpr?ft friend.
too?for invading his claim against the
owner's protest. It was coolly done,
with fnll determination, and in almost
any country would be pronounced murder.
There was a fair trial, and the of- . i
fender did not deny the act. When the :-j4
judge gave his charge he remarked: "I "
don't know but if I had been in the de* |
fendant's place I would have done ust |
as he did?in fact, ?I guess I should." M
The jury retired and signed a verdict, '3
which the foreman unrolled and read? >'
one, two, three, and so on of names or
marks preceded by the words "not
guilty." Coming to the twelfth name
he read "guilty." In an instant pistols k
were drawn upon the offending juror,
who protested that he voted "not
guilty," and at the moment the foreman i
discovered that the word "not" had '.'M
had been covered by a crease in the ?
paper. The jnror was loudly cheered, )'$
and the foreman was in for a dinner for
the entire dozen.
Of course, many rough characters
are found, the worst among them being
chiefly known as cowboys. These fellows
are always armed?indeed, every igj
man down there is usually armed with . m
one or more "pistols?and delight in
shooting merely to frighten strangers.
Their aim is unerring, and of course '-M
deadly when meant to be so. If they . *
ask a stranger to drink and he declines, -v
they will level weapons and order him .
to dance, and dance he must or be shot; .. ?
that is, unless, like one who was not /'ig
quite a stranger, who, when asked if he .
drank, whipped out a revolver and replied:
" No, but I shoot a little; and '%
now you dance;" indicating the bully
who asked the first question. This
readiness and bravery delighted the ^
boys, though their own leader was the ;.
TTtrtfim Tho hnllv was p.nmnfllled to
dance and to go down on his knees and :|j
put his lips to the floor (or "eat sand"
as they say), and was then relieved. /j-SaB
Instead of being disgusted he shook ~
hands with, the shooter and adopted
him as "one of the boys."
A more nncomioxUble experience
fell to the lot of two Englishm?f""^T|
on their way to California. They rjj|
stopped at a station in New Mexico, :''|a
and against the advice of the hotel v?jj
keeper and others went out a little
way to visit a small village. First one
and then the other was made to dance, . ,*?
and toward morning they appeared at
the station with no clothing except ^
stockings, drawers, trousers and shirts
Through some friends their watch and -. {*2
clothes were restored, and they were 2m
provided with emigrant tickets to San
Francisco., rather disgusted with their jfl
border experience. One of the institutions
of the country is the " Arizona
cocktail," which a stranger will soon ??9
CXr\ nrv f/^ flia Kav 1^9
UO in UUUULCU lUi v?u UjJ wv wuw ww '
alone and ask for a drink and some one
will suggest the aforesaid cocktail, 1^3
which is thus made: Fill a half-pint ^
i tiu cup half-full of mescot (a strong .
i liquor made from cactus), throw in
a handful of beans (frijoles), and grease ~
the rim of the cup with a bacon rind.
Of course the stranger declines the ^
mess and stands treat for all hands. ;
A Curious Chamber,
In a quiet nook of the royal oastle at
Berlin, not accessible to the general -.;J|
public, there is a small, plainly-fur- J?9
nished room, known for more than two tia
centuries past to the successive custo- jflj
dians of that ancient pile by the quaint *
designation of the Kuglkammer, of ;*f
"Bullet Chamber." The origin of thic
title is due to the following curious his- Si
torical incident: In the year 1631, Qua- .
tavus Adolphus, the heroic king of Swe- ^
den, sat down before Berlin with his
army, and opened pcace negotiations
with George William, then elector o1
Brandenburg, taking the precaution, 6$
however, to erect batteries in command"
ing positions within close range of the-'.;>-gS
city enciente, with a view to exercising ' J
a wholesome and timely pressure upon ^
the kurfuerst and his military advisers.
Under these circumstances, naturaU? V*S
enough, George William promptly came "' ??
to terms with his royal adversary; and ' 4
the king, delighted at the success of his ^4
maneuver, instructed his artillerists iqlH
beyond the walls to lire a grand feu-de- ;2g
joie in honor of the treaty concluded S
between himself and the elector. His
orders were at once obeyed, when, to
the consternation of the Berlinese,
storm of missiles burst upon their honse 'S
roofs. The gallant Swedes nad forgot- '^j
ten to draw the balls from their callnoo.
Four of these ponderous shots osj
penetrated tho walla of the royal ca?- ^
tie, and were subsequently dug out . 1
from their lodgments in different por- ^
[ tions of the building, to be collected
| and ever after carefully preserved in the
[ chamber which to this day is named -JM
i after them. * ?
i ? > j'.v 'W
A Peculiar Habit.
Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, in a work on a
nervous diseases, refers to an affection I
common to children and not uncommon "5
in adults, to which he has given the
! name "Habit Chorea." It consists of
a frequent spasmodic aotion of some
musclo of the face or body, which ;/M
causes a twitching of the eyelid, draw- . ??
ing of the mouth one way or another,.
twietingof the head, elevation of one
shoulder, etc., etc. There is a large ?/?|
variety of such movements which tend :,yj
to make tbo subject an object of curi- -js
ositv or of laughter. It is well called ^
a chorea habit, because it is something ?
of the nature of St. Vitus' dance SmI
(chorea), and occurs generally in nervous
organizations, or when because of gen- ^
eral ill health the nervous system becomes
debilitated and proportionately irI
ritable. In the Mcdical and Surgical 4
Reporter a physician relates his experi- /J
! ence with a few cases, and concludes
! that in many of them the fault may be' $
I overcome merely by calling upon the
1 individual to exercise his will power to
| prevent the movements. In this the
j friends and relatives can be of service
in frequently reminding him to be on
j his guard and control himself. The
| longer the habit is permitted to go on ^
I the more difficulty there will be in over- ^
jcomingit?especially in children. When
j it is evident that the movements can be i
controlled by the exercise of the will, jj
it is important to urge them to check
I themselves early, and, if there is any 7
| reason to believe that the general health
is impaired, this should also receive due
attention.?l)r. Foote's Health Monthly.
. .
I The Rarest or Gems. * vj
The rarest of all gems is not the diamond,
which follows after the ruby.
This in its turn allows precedence to
the chrysoberyl?popularly known as
the cat's eye. The true stone comes
* 1? A1 v ni:? nl .'55
irom vajjiuii, ljiuu^u iuu< ?
something similar under the name of
zimilampis, found in the bed of the
I Euphrates. Can we wonder, when we -fJ
look at one of these singular productions
of nature, with its silvern streak
in the center, and obseve, as we move
it ever so slightly, the magic rays of
varying light that illumine its surface,
that it was an object of profound reverence
to the ancients? The possessor
was supposed never to grow poorer, but
always to increase his substance. The ~
largest known is now in the possession
of Mr. Bryce Wright, the well-knowp
mineralogist. Jt is recorded in the
I annals of Ceylon, and known to history
I as the finest in the world. Two stars
I of lesser magnitude shine by its side,
| and we are informed that threo such
stones are not known to exist elsewhere
in the wide world,?London
| Graphic. yj