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ABBEVILLE PRESS AND BANNER. 4 BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WARDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C.. WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1882. NO. 36. VOLUME XXVI. > Hidden Treasures. There are gems as bright, as precious. Lying hid beneath the ground, As those worn by lord or lady. Gems as fair as ever found. There are virtues just as noble Hidden 'noath a load of care As those blazoned on tho banner Which the conquering heroes bear. There are hearts that beat as grandly, Thoughts that never have a pen, Treasures locked in sacred caskets Never praised by tongues ot men. Rarest gem* are ne'er discovered: Shallow, hidden in the earth. In tho deepest caves of oceau Lies tho pearl of richest worth. Search among thy fellow-workers, Probo beneath the wound of toil, Surely thou shall find a diamond Hidden deep within the soil. Hearts are bound in ribs of marble, Gems ai e bound in ribs of rock. Happy he who bursts the portal, Happy he who the gates unlock. ?B'j Emma T. Shaltvck. SACRAMENTO. i It was a r odd name for a girl?Sacramento. So the girl herself thought as she i stooped down besiue a spring at the j foot of a cottonwood tree and lazily i dropped her pail into the water. "It ought to have been given to a ' boy, if it waR a fit name to give to any- j body," sho said, qnite aloud. " But I'm I more boy tlan girl anyway." This last was added rather bitterly, i as she looked at hor brown, rough j hands and her bare ankles, and thought i of the " boys' work" she had to do. And it was hard to believe that this was the best kind of a life for a young girl like Sacramento. Hero 6he lived alone, for her father was down at the mouth of the canon all day. The gar den "work she wcr obliged to d >, and ! I he care of the cattle fell upon her. It was no' f ften that she saw any per- { son bnt her father, although now and then, in spi'e of herself, 6he came in | contact with the rade men of the min- ; inp: camp up above. Yet Sacramento had her dream, one j that she '' scarcely dared to own but j it came to her often as she went about j her work. She knew that down at Santa Bar- j bara and in the towns along the coast, I and far, far away across wide stretches 1 of the continent to the great East, j there were pirlswho lived lives very dif-' ferent from her life ; and she dreamed of such a life for herself. "Oh4 if I could only go away from here!" ehe cried out, almost as one; cries for help. " If I could only go 1 down to San Fratcifco and go to school) there for a sin fie year ! Ah, if I only | had five hundren dollars 1" Suddenly theve was a step?not of a | man, but a horse?on the bank behind J her, pnd then som"? one spoke. She > knew the voice without looking up. It j was Pete Larrabee, a fellow who lived dovn on Hahnemann's plantation, two j mihs alone the trail. He sometimes; rode by. He had not heard her last, words at all ; yot strangely enough his ' own were a repetition of them. "Five hundred dollars, Sac," said : ht. "Five hundred dollars in gold!. D'ye want ter earn it! There's yer i chance," and he threw down to her a bit cf paper crumpled into a ball. She picked it up and slowly unfold- i ing it ran her eyas over its contents. ?500 Reward. Thft aliorp amount will be naiil for informa- I tion leading to the arrest, dead or alive, of i Walter Sonieis, who has worked for some time past on Maxwell's lancb. Said isomers is about eighteen years old and five and a half feet high, rather good-looking, with light, curly hair, Hue eye* and a light mustache. When j last seen ho had on a black slouch hat, gray ; business suit with blue flannel shirt, and boots j v-ith red tops maiked with maker's name. The name of the county sheriff was signed at the bottom of the bill. Sac- i ramento, having glanced it through, j looked up. " He's been stealin' hor.'ep," exclaimed ! Pete " Got off last night with four j of Max'll's best t-omewheres. Thet reward won't do much good, though, i Ther Regulators'll lasso him an' string \ him up long 'fore therlaw'll git started. 1 They're hevm' a meetin' now up at the Gulch. I tell ye, they are mad. They'll make quick work ef they ketch 'em. Yer father's there. Ye needn't look fur i him afore night much." Then, after it word or two more, the man rode on; and presently Sacramento took uj> h< r pail and with the sheriff's | bill still in lier hand went slowly up | the bank and across the trail toward the house,thinking very seriously about the j live hundred dollars all the while. It was some hours after this, and the j afternoon sun was going down behind ' the tops of the mountains, that Sacra-! mento, having finished her housework, vas preparing to sit down on the porch ; to do her sewing when she was met in I the doorway by u young man she had never seen before. And yet hi* was no stranger. The girl knew him iustantly, although the' slouch hat was pulled down over the : flaxen hair and blue eyes, and tho gray pants, torn and maddy, had been J drawn out of the boot legs so as to no ! longer allow tho red tops of the boots j with the maker's name to be seen. It j was the horsethief. She did not, however, express any j surprise as she saw him. She was ac- i customed to the bight of rough, evil ' men ; and at tho first glance she had felt that this one could not bo either very wicked or very dangerous. He was not much more that a lad, and had j an air of gentleness and good-breeding , bout him that six months of Western '< Ufe and tho miserable plight he was in at the moment, had by n< means destroyed. He seemed to bt. short for breath, too, and was trembling as if ho Iliaa Dt en running. Instinctively be raised his bund toward his hat and then, bethinking hira self, dropped it again. "Could yon pive me something to eat and drink ?'* be aeked, in a hesitating voice. " Anything will do. I am v<ry hungry. I?I have had nothing to cat since last ni -bt.' "Come in," said Sacramento., gravely. In her voice was neither kindness or nnkindness. She was tiying to realize \ the situation she was in. " Come in and sit down." Then she went into the closet near by and begun taking down from the shelves milk and bread and meat, as she slowly did so turning over the j matter in her mind. Here was this man who bad been stealing horses and for whose capture five hundred dollars whs offered, in her kitchen. Five hundred dollars ! Exactly the sum she had been wishing for?the sum that wonld take her down to San Francisco to school and help her make a lady of herself, And this sum might be hers if she could in some way; secure this stranger or somehow keep him iu the house until help arrived. Help? "Why. she hardly needed help. .He was weak and exhausted, ai d in the drawer of the kitchen table there was a loaded revolver which she knew well how to use. I She came oat presently and set the things before him, bringing also a teapot from the stove and ponring for him a cap of tea. Tben she went and sat * down by the window and watched him furtively as lie ate. In spite of his caution he had taken off his hat while he was eating. Sho could better see what he was like. It was an almrst boyish face, worn, bnt not wicked, with the carling hair lying in damp clusters ut'on hie pale brow. In .ho hands, small and well-shaped, a'jd in all his motions and manner she felt that she could read something of his stoay. She had heard before this how young lads in the East filled with romantic notions about Western life and adventure sometime left their luxuriant homes and for nd ^heir way out to the ranches of tbo 1'acific slope. Perhaps he was one of these. As she looked at him, fancying all this, and realizing the terrible strait he was in, and the probable dark fate that was before him, her heart yearned with true womanly sympathy ; and her feeling fonnd expression before she was able to restrain herself. "Oh, how conld yon do it? How could tou do it V" she suddenly exclaimed", her voice quite full of what , she felt. He looked np at her in wonder; but as his eyes met hers he understood her. "I did not do it. Upon my honor, I did Dot!" he said. "It was that man Dennis." . Sacramento breathed a great sigh of relief. Horse stealing was held in that section to be a crime worse than murder; and she was by no means free from the popular estimate of its grave ' nature. "Oh. I am giad of that 1" said she. "But?" She hesitated, and then went on doubtfully. "But then how was it ? Why did they say it was you? And why did you run awav'" "It was Dennis' doings, their laying it to me. He did that to clear himself. And after that, you know as wellas [ do, there would have been no use in trying to prove myself innocent. They always hang a horsethief first and then consider his cuilt afterward. I had to run to save my me. "Do you know that there is a reward offered for your capture ?" "I know the Regulators are after me," answered the young fellow, sullenly. "They came pretty near catching me, too, this noon. I just escaped them and came down the canon by the mountain trail. I have bad a hard run for it, and what with no sleep or food for twenty-four hours I am about used up. I felt as though I could not go another step when I saw your house. You? you have been very good to me. I shall never forget"? "But what, are you going to do now?" interrupted Sacramento. "You are not safe here." "I know it. But I threw them off the track at noon, and I do not think they are within five miles of me. Now 1 have had something to eat I will take to the woods again. I hope I may get away. If I don't"?his voice trembled 1 L u:? ttls T UliU leurw fame ixitu mo ojo?. 11 x don't, I shall get a hanging, I suppose. Oh, what a fool I was not to prefer hcrae to this sort of thing. And yet, I wouldn't care so much either, if it wasn't for my father and mother." And there the poor fellow fairly broke down. " Hark !" Sacramento exclaimed. She had been crying, too; she could not help ii. They both listened. In a moment they heard plainly the sound of horses coming down the trail. The girl turned with instant self-possession. " Go in there! Quick! Quick I There | is not a moment to lose ! Here, take your hat!" And handing his hat to him she half-pushed him across the room and into her own little room that led off from it. Then she hurriedly cleared tho table again, barely finishing the task as the horsemen halted at the door. There were three of them. One was 1 her father. Sacramento knew the j other two men by sight. They were rough, but of the better sort of those I who made up the dwellers in Kelly I Gulch. The faces of all three were! stern and forbidding, and they evi- J dently had been riding hard. They i dismounted together. " Sac," began her fafiher as he entered the door, "hev ye seen anything of a yonng chap, afoot or a-horseback, coming this way ?" Sacramento had expected the ques- j tion and was ready for it. And she j meant, if it were possible, to answer it' without a lie. "A young chap 'about eighteen years j of age and five feet and a half high, rather good-looking, and with red-top boots on ?'" replied she. "Yes! yes 1 That's him!" cried one of the other men, eagerly. "Have you seen him ? Has he been here ?" "1 was only quoting from this hand- [ bill," said Sacramento, taking the paper j from the shelf where she had laid it. "Then you hain't seen himatall?"' asked' her father. " ~ "I have been right here all day. and nobody has gone by eseept Pete Larrabee. It was he who gave me the bill. Are you sure he came this way, the? j the?horse-thief ?" 'No; but we didn't, know bat he \ mighter. The chances is thet ho sloped j off to the mountains, meanin' ter go throngh Stove-pipe Pass. They'll git | him^ though, afore sundown." "It's sundown now," observed Sacramento. "Then they've got him now," was j the sententious response. " And we i should be too late for the hangin' of i we sh'd go back. Leastways " ?this was j added to his companions?"you'd bet-j ter come in and have a bite afore ye go." 1 So presently tne tfiree men sat down i to the supper that the young girl1 quickly prepared for them. And while i they were eating she herself, at her; father's bidding, went out to take the j paddle off Bueno, his horse, and give j him his feed. As 6he approached the ( door once more a few minutes later she j heard words which caused her to stop [ and listen. " I don't like ter say anything against j thet kid o' yourn, neighbor," one of the ! men was saying, "but it hes kinder J seemed ter me all thgr while's though . sho sorter bed some 'at on her mind like. Ye don't 'spose 6he knows any-1 thing'bcut thet young feller, arterall?''; Sacramento's father laughed at this oa Virmrrl, if troc fnn oKcnrft tn VtA pnn. 1 sidered. The other, however, was not to be laughed out of his suspicious. " Far we all know," persisted he, j " she may hev him hid here somewhere j on the premmysis." " It's easy enough to see," returned 1 the proprietor of th? said "prem-j rrysis," testily. "Where d'ye thint she's hid him? In her bedroom?" As he said this Sacramento, who was now near enough to see into the kitchen, j r-aw her father rise from his chair and step to the door of the room where she bad cono?aled the fugitive. Her heart almost stopped beating as she saw him push op?n the door and enter the room, followed by his companions. "We'll make a clus search of it while we're about it," she heard him say within. And then she stood there in terrible suspense upon 'the porch, expecting every instant to hear the shout that would follow the discovery of the fugitive. But no such shout was heard; and instead of it, a moment after, the two men camo out again, her father still lanehing at bis friend. I "What could it mean ? Had the young man been able to oonceal himi self in the room and so evade their search ? That was not possible. Then ' she thought of the window. Could he have escaped from the room by that? The window was so small she could scarcely believe that he could have crept through it. And yet he must have done so. She went hurriedly to the back of the house and then down beyond the horso sheds. No one could be seen. She halted a moment under a live-oak tree just at tho edge of the garden. The i evening was very calm and still, and the twilight shadows were deepening fast. "Was it the rustling of the wind in the boughs overhead that caught her ear ? She listened. "Hist! I am here?in the tree." The words came in a distinct whisper from directly above her. She stood and thought a single mo ment uetoro replying, men sne said, ' You must get away from here at once," in an eager whisper. " One of tho. men suspects something, and they may at any moment make a search of the place. I am going into the house a minute. Get down at once and go through the garden and across the trail to a spring that you will find there. It's at the foot of a big ccttonwood tje?. Stay ripht there until I come." Then she w< nt back hurriedly to the louse. The three men were still sitting at the table, and Sacramento felt rather than saw that one of them still | regarded her suspiciously as she came I in. She did not speak to them at all, I V?nt went directly through the kitchen | to her own room, and in a moment came out, went about her work in the kitchen, and took up a pail apparently to go to the spring for water. Ten minutes later, standing in the I shadow of the cottonwood, young Somers heard a step, and then Sacramento, leading Bueno all saddled and bridled, appeared. He started forward. " Hush !" she said; "they may come I out at any moment. Listen to what I | say. Your life depends upon it. You ; must rido straight down the trail for a i rmnvfA** n milo TVtan r?lAOQ V\V a hltT ijum i vi v* a iiiiiv* x uv/iij viwuw vj u cottonwood, just like .this, you will strike a path to the left. Buono will know it, once you get him in it. It will bring you out, half a mile on, at a corduroy road that crosses the swamp. This end of the corduroy has go* out of order and there are some logs laid. Lead Bueno across and then pull the logs away. If you'can do that it will make trouble for those who follow you. Beyond the swamp is a big plain. Strike straight across it, keeping the moon square on your right?the moon will be up by that time?and three hours' riding will bring you to the new railroad. After that?God help you to got safe ayay I" Sacramento paused and put out her hand. "Can you remember ?" she demanded. "I can, but I can never forget?" "Never mind that. Here, take this. It is a little money. You will need it. Now mount and ride?slowly, a little way, and then for your life." The young man still had hold of her hand. The tears came into his eyeB. T'Vin nn-rf mnrr -mf xvaa frrmn ! The next morning Saciamento told her father the story and coaxed him into forgiving her. And the following afternoon a man brought Bueno over from tho railroad town ; and then she knew that the fugitive was safe. Six weeks later a lawyer from Santa Barbara appeared with a letter from Walter Somers. He was with his friends at New York, and he begged Sacramento to accept, as a gift of gratitude, at least the amount oi I he reward that had been offered. And so it was that she went down to | San Francisco to school that winter, | after all.? 1 tutVn Companion. Oysters. One hundred and fifty years ago there were 4,000 oysterwomen in Paris, who pursued their business with much zeal and dexterity. The " green" oyster, so much prized in France, will not sell in our markets. The " greening" of oysttf-s i9 extensively carried on at Marennes, on tho bank's of the river Seudre ; and this particular branch of oyster industry extends for leagues along the river, and is also sanctioned by free grants from the state. Xhe peculiar color and taste are said to be imparted by the vegetable substances which grow in the beds where the oysters are cultivated. A resident of Lonaon, England, claims that the city spends over $25,000,000 a year' for oysters, and that more than twice the number of these bivalves would be used if they could be obtained at us reasonable prices as in A : mu. ~ America. ?11 tJ geuuiuu w u iters uuuiu oyster fetches about seventy-five or eighty cents a doz9n. Oyster culture in England is yet in its infancy. Large numbers of oysters are now carried to England from this country. The most popular size for eating is in a shell abont as large as a dollar. They are packed in barrels very closely, and kept right side np during the voyage. Quite a trade is now springing np in carrying " seed" oysters to Europe. Car loads of oysters are shipped to California from New York every few days. The "native" oyster cf that western coast is obtained in the Gulf of California, and is small and of coppery taste. There is as wide a contrast between the California bivalve and the Eastern as between a crab-apple and a Rhode Island greening. Something of a supply is being obtained on the Oregon or Washington Territory coast. These are better than the more southern. The seaboards of Georgis., South Carolina and Texas abound in oysters. In some places they have grown up into reefs extending for twenty miles along the coast. Much of this oyster wealth may yet become available for Northern markets. Various river mouths and esiuaries along the Connecticut and New York shores would be most excellent oyster farms if some means could be provided to keep the deposits of mnd from covering and smothering the young oysters The time may be near when enterprising men will seek to clear off these ruinous deposits, as they now drain off marshes and fill up swamps and pools. The recent law of Connecticut creating a State commission to sell the deep-water cround of the I sound iias served to inspire great activity in securing farms in the sea. Many thousands of dollars have already been realized for grounds appropriated. The production of oysters has more than doubled in quantity in and about New York harbor, Staten Island and Perth Amboy during the past five years. It is believed if the mud could be -kept out of New York harbor it would make one of the finest oyster beds in the world. The natural oyster beds on the east side of Staten Island are the places whence much of the " seed" for all the various famous kinds of oysters about New York is obtained. Science has demonstrated that oysters can be managed so that their spawning seasons can be regulated, and thus good oysters ba had and eaten every week in the year. Th s is arranged in the Connecticut waters by planting them in different depths of water. This secures variety in temperature. The greater the heat the earlier the oyster will spawn. Therefore, by moving them i into shoal water in a sheltered place 1 where tho sun will warm the water ! easily the spawning season will be over j in early summer. Those in the deeper j and colder water will, of conrse, feel the , heat later, an?t therefore spawn later. ' Thus one portion of the oyster supply j can be always ready for use.?'SScientific ! American. A Squirrel's Fi?ht for Life. A story so strange that it 6eems ali most incredible comes from the zoologi| cal garden, but it is nevertheless true, ! and a recital of the facts will give all a ! greater respect for the weaker animals, j whose pluck aud instinct-r-perhaps .it i may bo callod intelligence?triumph j over the strength of their deadly foes, i Yesterday afternoon n little squirrel ; killed a rattlesnake about to devour it, and the aggressor became the victim. It is customary to place live unimals, such as the rabbit, the rodent or the squirrel, in the dens of the slimy, repugnant reptiles who tempted our first parent. The snakes, when they are hungry, witii fearful deliberation approach their terrified prey and relentI lesslv devour it. The squirrel which i battled so bravely for his life, and won, ! crouched tremblingly in the corner of the snake's abode, and seemed to understand that it would soon be food for the disgusting creature whose fierce, cold eyes began to glitter in anticipation of the promised feast. Slowly but surely the rattlesnake crawled toward I the squirrel, but the bunnie quickly : jumped on a perch above the deadly ' reptile's head. The long flat head was j raised upou the perch, and the forked I tongue sent forth its venom. But the ! squirrel, with a sudden spring, alighted on the back of the snake and bit off one of his rattles. The wounded reptile wheeled quickly nround and struck the little hero a fearful blow, breaking the right hind leg. Brave little fellow, once more he leaped beyond the roach of his maddened foe. Another spring, and the squirrel was triumphant. Be caught the snake behind the head, und with one firm thru6t of his sharp, white teeth he decapitated the slimy monster and fell exhausted by the wiggling mass; but the battle had been won, and the Bnake was dead,?Cincinnati Inquirer. SINGULAR SUICIDES. Some Odd Motive* Impelling to Sell-I>entractloa and Some Odd methods Employed. A glance at the files of a New York newspaper during 1881 discloses many interesting cases of suicide worth noticing from peculiarities of mode or j motive. Dr. McCreerv, of Louisville, I killed himself because he believed his i newly acquired appetite for liquor vras incurable; John McPherson, of Toledo, because he had promised his wife on her deathbed not to drink again, and i after a three days' struggle he found j that bo must break his vow or | die; the Rev. .Tacob Mulford, of i Greenville, N. J.( because afrer re- j forming and laboring successfully for 1 some months as a temperance tdvocate I he fell into temptation and lost his ; church. Professor Louis Walter, a, pyrotechnist of St. Louis, put a nitro- j glycerine cartridge on his breast and j blew himself to pieces because he \ feared the shooting of President Gar- I field would spoil the Fourth of July i business ; John E. Jost, of the tame city, read an account of a suicide, laid down the paper, drew his pistol and shot himself. A Philadelphian, on being slapped in the face by his wife, j turned white with rage, and, after j standing a moment irresolute, walked i into the next room, took down his bhotgun and killed himself. At Stepney, London, a girl drowned herself because her grandmother would not let her wear her new clothes, and at the funeral the Spartan ancestress was mobbod and almost xwiitru* rx.u HAaiiv^ucouci ? v\jj \j*. iuu- . teen hanged himself from remorse at j playing trnant, and at Newport, Canada, ; Ferdinand Pitcher, aged ten, went and j did likewise when told to set the table i for tea. William S. Pimer, of Willi- : mantic, Conn., committed suicide on | his wedding day from cbagrin at not j receiving apromised remittance to defray j his expenses. Bruce Cooper, a young i lawyer of Moorehead, Ky., eloped with ' Mollie Pe Hart, a girl of thirteen, : whose parents had forbidden her to j marry him, and after going a few , miles advised her to return home, j and shot himself. William Ben- \ nett. of Denton, Ala., was threatened i with being disinherited in case he mar- j ried a servant girl with whom he was ia ! love; she refused him and he killed him- i self. At Newark, O., a rejected suitor j made a final appeal to his obdurate I sweetheart as they were driving to- i gether, and when she declared she never would consent to marry him took the -1 1 ? l cruecii-rtJiLL iTULU iuu uuiae, wcuu iuiu the woods and hanged himself. At I Dallas, Tex., Mrs. C. T. Burke, of Little I Bock, having followed and overtaken j her eloping husband, put her two little I children to sleep and poisoned herself with laudanum. At Louisville Mrs. Jennie Doraey, when her husband, a*ter six weeks of happiness, took to drinking j and gambling and left her with a board bill of 825Junpaid, poisoned herself and died just a few minutes before a letter came protesting his love in earnest terms, and announcing that he was coming to take her away to a new home. At Melun, in France, J alee Roy and Clemence Wagner tied themselves tightly together and dropped into the river, leaving a request to the girl's father that they might bo buried in the same grave. A young lady in South Carolina hanged herself because her1 father was defeated for the legislature, i At Schoolcraft, Mich., Dr. Barnum, j who had long been suffering from a ! painful disease, laid himself on his dis- ' secting table and shot himself through j the heart. David Crimmins, of Toron- | to, jumped over Niagara Falls, leaving a letter declaring that he had been ' forced to the act by his wife and their , clergyman. Dr. G. T. B. Read, sur- j geon on the bark Veronica, drowned himself at sea near Madeira, while his ' brain was unsettled from the effects of j an overdose of bromide, taken to rn- [ lieve sea-sickness. At Buntingford, j England, a servant girl of seven-: teen, named Miles, having been J wrongfully accused of taking Rome1 articles belonging to her mistress, j jnmped down a well 120 feet deep. A I female'Terftctioniet," at Dallas, Texas, j having failed in rnnnmg nersen to 1 death, in the belief that this would be : "running the race to the end" and j making sure of heaven, threw herself into the river. At Hohemolsen, in Prussia, a police officer drovo a three i inch nail into his head with a curtain red. Hugh Brandt, of Cohoes, having been unable to obtain work, tied a fifty pound rock aroand his neck, filled his pockets with stones and drowned him- j self in three feet of water. A negro j named McJennings, at Indian Creek, ! Va., ran head foremost upon a circular saw in full operation, and had his head split through instantly. A woman in Milwaukee destroyed herself by holding her face in a baBin of water, and a man at Constantino, Michigan, put his head into a bag with a number of stones, . w. 4 U /\ t nn nlf a1 a^aIw I lieu, ixju iiiuutuui tuc oaua uiyooij ivuuu his neck and juruj ed into apond At San Saber, Tex , L. B. Chapman,fearing arelapse of the mumps, shot himself fonr times. At Greenville, S. C., W.R. Mims, a prisoner in the jail, choked himself by thrusting his felt hat down his throat. ! At Dansville, N. Y., Mrs. J. S. Boyd { went into the cellar of her dwe ling, j stripped herself, poured a piicher of: kerosene over herself and set fire to the ; oil. Captain Fritz, of San Francisco, \ hanged himself with his feet shackled <*nd his wrists handcuffed, but his wife explained that she had frequently fastened him in this manner at his own request when he felt himeelf unable to resist the temptation to go out and spend the night with political workers. Before shootiDg herself, Josie Langelet, of St. Louis, put on an elaborately embroidered wrapper, arranged her hair becomingly and seated herself in a graceful position on a lounge. Before hanging himtelf Leonidas Robertson, of Madison, Ind., put on his wife's clothes and sunbonnet. George Wiggins, of Port Washington, L. I., loaded both barrels of his gun, fastened it to a fence, tied strings to j the triggers and walked backward till | he was about ten yards'" away, when i with a sharp pull he brought both charges into his head and body, riddling himself from the waist upward, i M. Anderwert, president of the Swiss confederation, shot himself on the promenade at Geneva on Christmas day, : 1880. General Uchatius, the Austrian ' :?* / ? iiruv, ? I Ill V C1I LUX Ui I U CJ UtlJftUU.1 ^UU-Ui^UU, being nettled at tho failnre of one ' of bis guns, blew out his brains. A Hindoo priest at Abmedabad, who for twelve years bad made a practice of praving two hours daily at noon, gazing intently at tho snn all tho while, paid ofl' his debts, composed and 1 sang a hymn of praise and then as- ! cended a pyre of his own building and , setting tire to it burned himself to ' death. William Newkim, a Chinese theological student at Marietta, O., | poisoned himself with chloroform through being worried over his love af- j fairs. At Fishkill Landing Mr. Sann der's old horse drowned himself in the J Hudson, in shallow water, after having | been once brought in when heattemptc-d to Bwim out into the river with mani- | fest suicidal intentions. ? Great Mortality in a Large Family. The little rural burying ground at Rockville Center, L. I., has one feature which is not commonly found in conntry church-yards or even in the large and pretentious cemeteries which ; abound near New York and Brooklyn. It is a row of sixteen little graves, in which the bodies of sixteen brothers nn.l ci'ofum the nhilrlrpn nf Fnvman nnil i Margaret Abrams, of Woodfield, in the ! town of Hempstead, all of whom died in childhood. Only one child of the family, a boy seventeen year s of age, is living. A family bo lurge as this is an nnusnal thiug nowadays, although ag many as twenty-fcur or twenty-five children were not considered too numerous in the early days of Now England. A boot-blacbicg tree has been dieoovered in New South Wales. The cnly trouble with it is it doesn't have a bux and a chair.?IsOictll Citizen. THE SUPERNATURAL. The Belief In "Wl?e Men" nnd "WIicIim' Still Held b# Million. In! All Civilize) Connirlen. People are only too apt to believe that witchcraft has become an exploded article of the popular creed, and thai there aieno classes holding to the faith professed by Raleigh and Bacon, Seidell and Hobbs, Boyle and Moore, Sii Thomas Browne and Sir Matthew Hale. Yet there would not be the slightest diffi alty experienced by any one whose reading includes a moderately large list of daily newspapers, domestic and foreign, in compiling a very res pectable annual volume on contemporary witchcraft and proving that a belief in the supernatural and malignant attributes of crazy old crones, in the vampire tastes of unquiet corpses, and in the potency of charms and spells, is to-day 1\w wtilli/ino nf r^nnnlfl ill CliLCl IU1ULU kjj UilltlVUlI W? {/WJ'.u a a a the most civilized countries of the world. They had an epidemic of witchcraft in Butler, Pa., a few months ago, when the fact was revealed that there were six professional "witch-masters" in the county, and that when the devil got possession of a man and was not disturbed in his tendency for two months, 85 was the smallest sum for which ho could be evicted. The modus operandi is to cut a circle on a white oak treo and lure the devil to enter it, which he does with a noise like thunder and a vehemence that splits the tree to splinter-. The patient is then corked up, as it were, with prayers and charms. It is only a little while since the Davenport la, papers chronicled the death of Mary the Witch, and gave an appetizing inventory of her professional possessions, her " cabinet" containing a cat's skull, a chicken's head, bats' wings, toads' feet, spiders' webs, various bones of various animals, dried blood and eyes of owls and cats doposited in various places wrapped in paper. It is safe to say that the professors of witchcraft in the United States are numbered by hundreds and derive an annual revenue from the credulous which it would take at least seven figures to express. Though witchcraft is not so public and profitable a business in England, the belief in witches is even more generally held. Within the last few weeks one case has been reported where the paraon of the parish was appealed to tc cut a sod from the alleged witch's grave to stop her nightly promenades for evil purposes, and two young men were brought before the courts for knocking down an old woman and "drawino blood" from her with a knife, so as tc release their sister from her spells. At Sheffield, in November, 1880, Agnes Johnstone was sent to jail for three weeks for obtaining ?5 8s. from Margaret Devaney, throngh a promise ol " ruling her planet" and bringing her a fortune through the agency of subterranean spirits. The witch |had, hei dupe testified, dar ced with the fairies and worked with the devil for night after night. At East Dereham, one William Bulwer was fined for abnsing and assaulting a girl named Christiana Martins, because she was a 2 partner in the witoh industry with her mother, his testimony being as follows: ' Mrs. Martins is an old witch and she charmed me, and gotd no sleep for her for three nights, and one niaht at 11:30 o'clock I got up because I could not sleep, and weni out and found a 'walking toad' under a clod that had been dug up with a threopronged fork. That is why I could not rest. She is a bad old woman. She put the toad under there to charm me, and her daughter is just as bad, gentle tit. i.i i :i .1. men. ouo wouiu uewucu au/ uut;. She charmed mo, and I got no rest day or night for her till I found this 'walking toad' under the turf. I got the toad out and put it under a cloth and took it upstairs and showed it to my mother ami 'throwed' it into the pit in the garden. I can bring it and show it to yon, gentlemen." In Dudley, in June last, a professional witch came to grief and the jail for selling "a bottle of stufl' to burn at midnight" to a woman who, though admitting that this practitioner was a fraud, insisted that she herself was bewitched. The London Thr.li/ Ncivb is authority for the statement that " to-day in EngJand women of bad temper and a certain originality of character deliberately give themselves out to be witches. They win some respect and exercise some influence. One woman has at this momeut a reputation for keeping seveu little familiar spirit", which leap out of her mouth, like the red mouse from the lips of the fair witc'i in 'Faust.' A witch often lowers the rent of the: adjacent cottages and demoralizes a whole neighborhood." The last legal execution in England for witchcraft occurred in 1716, but in 1863 a reputed wizard was drowned in a pond at the village of Heddingham, in Essex, not forty miles from London; while in 1867 "Dr. Harris" was com vtcitsw'l uiul nf flm qq. JOiltLCU AUA I'ilHi CAW VIMVJ MVS sizes for duping persona into the belief that their ailments were caused by their being " witched," and for professing to cure them by giving them charms to wear siispended round their necks. At Havay, in Belgium, iD June last, a peasant lost not only his child but hie cow, and consequently consulted the village wise man, or devin, who said: "Go home and to-morrow morning burn the first peraon who crosses your doorstep. That person will have been the cause of your ills I will take care that God sends him." The countryman went home as directed, and with the aid of bis spouse prepared a kind oi funeral pile in the biggest room of the houee, and when next morning a kind neighbor, who had nursed the child in its last sickness, came to the door, the couplo pounced on her, tied her hand? and feet and kindled the pyre, on which they laid her. She had the wit to confess her guilt and beg for a priest, and when the priest came he liberated her. but not till she had been fearfully burned. The tribunal of Mons laid its iron hands on the culprits, sent there to jo.il for sixty and forty days and made them pay 800 damages to then victim. In the south of France a similar charm is in vogue. If you art worried bv witches you have but tc stea a new kettle put into it all tht old nails, pino and pieces of iron obtainable and boil it furiously. As soor as the vessel begins to sing keep ar eve on the door and the first person tc enter will bu the witch, obeying an ir resistible impulse. Upon clubbincr the witch vehemently the evil spell will bt broken. At Charleroi, in Belgium, four women were convicted recently o] swindling by pretended sorcery. Thcii practice was to select old women whc had come into property and blackmai tbem under the threat of allowing the spirits to kill or bewitch u favorite child. At; tho Russian village of Wratshevo near Nevgorod, two years ago, there wa.1 a woman named Agrafena Ignatjeva, i widow, who bad the reputation of be inp a witch, and who encouraged th< I'dief, as it made tho peasants brinj ? -i j mi, her lood and gins in auumiuuiro. men were many persons ill fho district snf fering from epilepsy and it was popular ly believed that the witch had thn punished them for offending her ii some way. One of these epileptic suf ferers, a girl from a difctant village, be i sought some peasants to burn the witel and so release her from hor sufferings At an assembly of headmen and senior of the village it was resolved to extin guish the source of mischief. The; pr ceeded to her hut, which they fount fastened up. They broke it open, dis covered the wretched woman, cbarge< her wi'th the crime a nd then nailet up the window and door to prevent he escape. By this time over 200 men hat ncca.nMnrl nrnnml fho lint, nnd ami( their jeers and Bhcuts of exultation i was set on lire and the whole crowd re mained until it was quite consumed Though the rural policeman was ofl'ei ei a bribe of 316.50 to report the burning as accidental, he informed on the vil lagers, sixteen of whom'were brought t< trial. The three prime movers in thi cremation were sentenced to sligh penances in church, and tho other were set free. The conrfcs in German; were culled upon not long ago to decid' [ a suit brcmght by a peasant and bis (| wife against a neighbor whom they acJI cused of having caused tho death of | their two little pigs by witchcraft. #' "You couldn't seo any marks on their I ; bodies at all,'' ho testified. "In the .; evening they were healthy, ato heartily, | i the pigsty was locked, and in the morning one of them was already df ad. .! The defendant crossed tho yard in the j night and bewitched them. I speak to ! yon, judge, as to a father, and I im'! plore 30a to make her give yon the i doctor 000K8 sue nas got. in iuere.it ' 1 stands how to bewitch " "When the suit | j was dismissed the complainants paid I they would appeal, and as they went J out tho husband exclaimed : " This wo j cannot lose ; it is impossible." It may be added that while in Madagascar the missionaries have rooted out the last vestiges of idolatry, the belief in witchcraft defies extinction. It was reported last winter that a dog had spoken and had announced that a hurricane,causing grievous famine, would devastate the district ; that immense hailstones would descend and that oven the heavens would fall. Te advert this the people were told to get six black and six white beads and to wear them around the neck and no harm would come to them, and all the influence of tho missionaries could not prevent the converts from investing in beads. The Journalist. The journalist knows all tha news, j Therefore he is said to have a nose for I news. i He is a man of parts?part modesty ' and part truthfulness. He has great regard for the truth, and approaches it cnly with diffidence and awe. His modesty is so great that when he secures an exclusive articlo of news he never brags about it?until after it is j in print. The prime article in the journalist's i creed is that it is not right to get left; j and many a prime article he gets in 1 consequence. j The journalist is a reflector of the i times, but has little time for reflection, nevertheless. i j The life of the journalist is one con| tinual round of pleasure. It is made up of theater-going, banqueting and i walking about the streets. Any fool ? can become a journalist, but it is not I j becoming a journalist to be a fool. ?j Everybody pays court to the jour1; n.ilist?everybody who wants to get his II amo in the paper. And that is all !) most bodies feel called upon to pay. I He is not required to have ideas. ? Everybody is willing to supply him with > all he needs and more. 1 j The journalist does not have to work ? very hard. He is scarcely ever busy I more than twenty-six hours out of r twenty-four. The rest of the time he ' can give to sleep or to work. There is said to be honor among ' thieve3; but the journalist is not a 1 thief. The journalist is always ready and willing to help his fellow, when he oannot get ahead of him. He never tells a falsehood, though i he will lie all day for a bit of news. When he sees a wrong, he writes it at once. The journalist is the man of the age ? mucilage. The journalist handles the Archij medean lever that moves the world. : Archimedes had no foundation to rest 1 { his lever upon, and much that the I journalist writes has the same airy I basis. I It is a mistake, however, to suppose that the journalist makes the news. I The news makes him. I The brightest journalists, it is said, ; are graduates of tho case; but this is i denied by those who never worked at | the case. Therefore let us rest our case ! here. Children, if you would be good and great; if you would be respected of all meu; if you would get your food, raiment, amusements, traveling expenses, j etc., gratis; if you would live an active j and useful life and escape the dangers | mnereni to ricnes, ue a jo. manse.? | Boston Transcript. ,mm Pots and l'uns. I Utensils for boiling purposes h.ivo I undergone lifctlo modification in shape 1 from the remotest times to the present | day. The reason for this is not far to ; eoek. Water heattd in a round ' vessel with upright Rides would j soon boil over, whereas when jtreatel in a pit whose sides incline : inward toward tho top, the bubbling , waves of the liquid have a tendency to i a common center, and usually waste ! themselves in conflict with each other. : Thns ^the caldron, kettle and saucepan I have in all ages and in all nations much ] similarity in form. With regard to i material, no doubt the earliest pots and pans consisted of such natural objects | as adapted themselvos to the require! ments of cooking, as the gourd, pipkin, i cocoanut shell, etc., and among savage i tribes these are still employed for the ; purpose. In couise of time vessels of ! clay came into service, and afterward ! metal was brought into requisition. 1 The old Egyptians had pots precisely 1 like the modern saucepan, and their larger utensi's were famished with the well-known ears and feet which may 1 even yet be seen in some of the home1 steads of our country. Shakespeare maKes tho " secret, black an! midnight 1 hags " in Macbeth use a caldron of this description, and it will be remembeied ' that the savory mess with which the more 1 respectable Meg Merrilles appeased the hunger of worthy Dominie Samp| son was dished from a like vessel. That j these articles were common in China i in dim antiquity, and tbat the Chinese j had a superior method of mending them, r?nn fmrnrisenn one. and is what we have ! i expected to find in a people who seem tc 1 liave forestalled nearly every invention, 1 great and small, that was ordinarily siip' posed to have first seen the light iu ' other lands than theirs.?Thomas J. Homlwitch. ' The Wear of Gold Coin. ! It is estimated that tho average [ weekly depreciation of the $7,000.00f in gold held by the Boston banks i nearly $300, or say 810,000 per annnm, ! the circulation being made on the ' recognized basis that a gold coin in use ! actually loses a five-hundredth of its weight iu a year. The coin is packed ' in bags of $5,000 each. These bags are 1 passed from bauk to bank, and the con' stant friction which is rnado in handliDp | and weighing wears away the edges and * faces of the coin, so that sooner or latei ! a bag falls chort in weight, and valuable L time as well as money is lost in determining which bank shall make good : the deficiency, the labels attached to ! each parcel, on which appears the names of the banks through which the ; bag Las passed, beiDg the only means tc ? aid in fixing upou the responsible uartv. The treasury department hat ' refused to issue g<ld certificates for 5 large amounts, on tbe ground that it 1 would occasion trouble and expense for ' the government. Other expedients pro " posed are?the appointment of an insti[ tution. not chartered bv the United " States, ns a gold depository for the na tional banks, the interchange of certificates among the banks, and the establishment of the clearing house as a de1 positorv. There are objections to eacli plan, and another?the division of the burden among live or bix banks?is the 1 one which may bo temporarily adopted ' until Congress shall apply a permauent 8 remedy. The packing of the coin in bags i* a conventional way, and it does ^ not reflect much credit on the inventive faculties of bank oilicers that they have not thought out a better way. If the , coin were packed in boxes fitted with grooves in which the pieces would lie [ close and so confined that they would | not movo in course of transportation, ' and these grooves were m&do so that they coma bo mtea out, wun ineir contents, the loss from friction in tumblinp around the bags and pouriug out the coin as though it was sugar would be j tery much reduced. 3 ?? a The Boston Post considers it possible t for animals to blush. A turkey ha< =i been seen to turn mighty red aror.jil j his gillB when pointed out to the cook, e and maybe the Post is right. THE FA KM AND HOUSEHOLD. TUr Cnre of. Tools nndlFnrtn Implement#. Dollar after dollar dwindles imperj eeptibly but surely away on many ; farms during the winter season becauso ; reapers and mowers. seed-drills, plows I and barrows ore left just whero they j were last employed to bear the injurious ! efftcls of pelting storms and dry winds. | Tools worn or loosened and calling for ! simple repairs are used until past | mending, and yet it is the leisure ! st ason of the whole year. I A ew hours spent each day by the ; farmer and his boys in the repair shop : or, barn cleaning and oiling machines, J painting wagon-bodies and repairing I Ttrli/i/ila nn/1 nvloo tolrn.foof^ ?T ULViO UUU PAl^O) *l?UW-lVVVUj tightening hoe-handles, sharpening the knives to reaping machines, making rollers and stamp-pullers, etc., would not only save unnecessary ioss in actual 1 dollars and cents, hut a vast amount of time, anxiety and annoyance in the spring when the rush of work leaves little or no time in which to make repairs or supply the place of lost tools. There are a variety of mixtures that may be applied to the iron parts of implements to prevent rusting, the cheapest of which is grease that has not been salted. An excellent article for the protection of steel or iron may be prepared by melting lard and common rosin slowly together and stirring the mixture until it cools. "When required I in large quantities it may bo made in j the proportion of about six pounds ot j lard to two of rosin. If only a small ] umouiit is desired, a piece of rosin the : size of a hen's egn will suffice for one | pound of lard. This mixture can be ; applied with a cloth to the metal sur| face, giviDg it a thin coat. The rosin ! prevents the lard from becoming ran| cid and the grease excludes the air and ; moisture. Previous to applying any protective j wash, machinery should bo thoroughly oleaned and the bearings wiped and j oiled with castor oil or other lubricant. ' Castor oil, by the way, is counted among 1 the bost of oils for iron axles. A wheel well lubricated will not only revolve readily but runs much longer than when oiled with cheaper sort of grease. ' It is also cconomy to look after the woodwork of tools and machinery. Alternate wetting and drying soon injures [ any wood, causing cracking and final I decay. This may be prevented by the timely and occasional application of fome cheap paint. When woodwork from exposure has become cracked it is advised to give it a wash of crude petroleum previous to an external coat of paint. Petrolenm not only improves all wooden tools, but is alike valuable for rustic furniture, such as arbors, gar, den chairs and vases that are exposed to the weather. Oas tar is sometimes | employed as a paint for wagon wheels, i A correspondent who has made use of it in this way says that it forms a hard, durable black polish, somewhat like Japan on tinware, and dries in the summer sun?on wood in one day and on I iron in two days. A good black paint for coarse iron work, according to the American Journal of Industry, may be j made by mixing plumbago with hot ! coal tar. Equal parts of asphaltum I and rosin dissolved in common inrpen| tine, Hays the same authority, make also a good cheap covering foi heavy iron work. ; To preserve harness, leather-belting j and the like, keep in some dry, airy place; take apart occasionally and thoroughly clean and oil eveiy portion. : Never oil harness until it has first been ! r> lieved of all dirt; scrape off the thickest accumulation of mud, etc., witu a dull knife, then remove the rest with a wet clotb. If oiled previous to cleaning the oil soaking through the dirt into the leather carries with it fine particles into the pores of the leather, thereby rendering it hard and stiff. For harI ness common neatsfoot oil is excellent, j but when mice and rats abound pure ! castor oil is better, for these varments i do not like it. Apply the oil with an ; old woolen cloth, putting on as much I is will rub in and diy readily. After ; oiling harness and beltiDg let it bang , for two or three day* in some warm, i airy place and expose to the sunshine i when that is practicable. Never keep ; leather appliances of any fort in a dark, damp place.?New York World. Farm qnd Garden Nolo*. Sheep give back to the farm more, in j proportion to what they take from it, ; than any other animal. Do not allow the cattle to tramp over I the mowings when the ground is soft j enough to retain the imprint of their j hoofs wherever they go. j Frequently after squashes begin to \ blossom they dry up and die. For this i disaster no one has yet be^n able to ! give a satisfactory cause, i Strawberries are much more prolific ! when four or five different varieties are ( planted togelher, although each variety i may be a perfect one, than if but one j perfect variety were planted alone, j The opinion has generally prevailed ! that a little bran mixed with meal ! would produce more pork than clear i meal, but in some experiments lately ! tried it waa found that clear meal made i more pork than a mixture of bran and , meal. i The best thing to do with inferior i stock, when the pric? of grain and ' i other feed is as high as it is now, is to ' I fatten them quickly, if possible, and | sell them or dispose of them in some | other way. Belter give them away ' than, by keeping them, to deprivo the j better animals of an abundance of food. , j A correspondent of the London Live ,! Slock Journal cured a horse of the bad I habit of rearing when mounted by pro, i viding himself with a bottle of water, 11 and dashing iho contents "with vioi lenco on its head" the moment it began ! to get upon its hind feet. A secoLd apt : plication was never needed. The Flemish farmer scrupulously col! leets everv atom of s-wage from the towns, he guards his manure like a : treasure, puts a roof over it to prevent , 1 rain and sunshine from spoling it; he I j also gathers mud from rivers and I canals, and tbo excretions of animals ! along the highways, for conversion | j into phosphates. . i Stnra cattle, or drv cows, may be kept i on the poorest fornge until the cows j come in, when they should have as > ! good food as can be afforded. So the . | best way to manace will be to feed up ;; t!ie poorest stuff first. If it is found that the corn-fodder is injured by the [ blackening and mildewing effects of the >j rains it should bo fed before the hay ; j but if it has been secured in good order ! j before sustaining any damage it may be i | as well to feed it last or after the hay i j is pretty well fed out. This is of ini i : portance mainly as the feeding season i : will have to be well extended into sumi mer next year, or until soiling crops ; i can be obtained. ; ! Urrlpcn. Griddle Cakes.?Take a cupful ench of sweet milk and sour milk, a table' i spoonful cream or other shortening; 1 i sil't a scant half-teaspoonfal cream tarI tar in the flour; dissolve a half-teaspoon1 ful soda in a little water; stir in flour tc i make a thin batter; have the priddle ; hot and buttered, dip on a spoonful at a time and fry a light brown. ! i Atple Cbeam.?Peel and core ono 1 i pound of appl e, place them in a stew| pan with eight ounces of sugar and a ' ; pinch of ground nutmeg. Let cook : until tender; pass the apples through ' I sieve and let get cold. Whisk up rathei | j stiff half a pint of cream, add the apple | i pulp, a little essence of lemon, one I ounco cf isinglass boiled in a gill of 1 ] water; mix well together; pour into a J j jelly mpld and let set. "Wheu reI quired dip the mold into warm water | for half a minute, wipo it with a cloth ' and tnrn it out on a glass or silver disli. ' Garnish with red flowers and slices of j lemon. ' Mashed Potatoes.?Boil the pota: I toes gently, after having made I them hs nearly uniform in size us j possible, by dividing the larger ones, ; : or what is better, by slicing all, but not ! very thinly. A? soon as tho fork goes i | through readily turn the water off (sav, ing that for mixing your bread if you j bake the same day), then mash through a colander into the same kettle or saucepan. Add butter and cream and Fait, and with a lone-handled spoon beat a few minutes briskly. Set the saucepan where it will tlioroughty heat again, and your potatoes will be a noticeable feature of tbe best of dinners. Noodle.- " Noodle," if properly made, is a great addition to soup, and is preferreJ by many people to the best "A. B. C. macaroni." For a family of four two eggs will be sufficient; beat them until they ure very light; stir in flour as long as it is possible to work it in ; salt it well; roll it out on a kneeding-board until it is almost as thin as paper and is perfectly smooth ; put a clean naner on a chair or table near the stove and lay the noodle on it to dry. It should be prepared early enongh in the morning for it to dry for an hour at least. About twenty miuutes before the soup is taken from the stove take the noodle and stir it over and over until you have a strip three or foui inches wide ; then with a sharp knife cut it in narrow strips; put these in the 6onp and let them cook from ten to fifteen minutes. Beef soup, with noodle, and a pinch of curry j owder, is a dish to be "somewhat considered. Household jllnti. Alum is one of the best additions to make whitewash of lime that will not rub off. "When powdered chalk is u"ed, glue water is also good, but would not answer for outside work exposed to much rain. That rustic black Italian crape may bo restored by dipping m sKimmed milk and water, with a bit of fine glue dissolved in it and made scalding hot. It should be clapped and pulled dry, like muslin. Common soda is excellent for scouring tin; as it will not scratch the tin and will make it look like new. Apply with a piece of moistened newspaper and polish with a dry piece. Wood ashes are a good substitute. Mildew may be removed from linen by mixing with soft soap a little powdered starch, half the quantity of salt, and the juice of a lemon, and applying it to the mildew stain with a paint brush on both sides of the linen. The stained article should then be left out on the grass day and night until the spot be removed. . Insects in Iudia. You have recently arrived in the country, are living in a kutcha house (built of sun-dried bricks and mudmortar), have made yourself comforta Die tnerein, ana are going 10 uavo your first dinner party. All your knickknacks are proudly displayed on your table, and in its center blaAs your lamp, just unpacked. The dinner hour approaches, and you nervously take a look round to see that all is right. One or two insects, new to you, are fluttering about the lamp or on the table, and in brushing them off you perhaps notice that the same insects are swarming out of a corner or from, the floor. Your guests arrive; and while receiving and marshaling them in to dinner the insect invasion has assumed formidable proportions, so that when you sit down to soup, you find the air around the lamp alive with termites, and your fair cloth covered with them. Every soup-plate is stuffed with them, as also your glasses of sherry. In despair you appeal to the company i or to our table attendant, and are advised to remove the lamp at once from the table. On doing so, the invaders on the wing are diverted; and then you notice that the thousands on the table have dropped their wings broadcast, and are now chasing one another about. u comparative darkness you finish your dinner and adjourn to the drawing room. When your guests have left, onvi'noW-r 4-oL-oa rnn 'haolr fr> tViA dinino room, and yon find the table and the site of the removed lamp strewn with myriads of wings, and their owners nowhere. Watch the insect ontside, and the sight is equally wonderful. From a spot in the ground where you would least expect it, you find one or two termites fluttering into tho air; watch them narrowly and you will find a minute hole, far too minute for the hordes which are squeezing out of it and then rising into the air. Around the hole half-a-dozen wingless workers are fussing frantically. Bat let us watch the perfect insects and return afterward to the workers. Soou we see a pryamidal cloud of insects in the air, the apex resting over the hole. This becomes denser and spreads wider as the breeze catches their wings. News cf the flight havo been telegraphed far and wide. Sparrows and crow*, flycatohers and king-crows, kites and mynas, flock to the scene and gorge on the flyers. (Kites feast laboriously; every termite is individually seized with the talons and then disposed of by the beak.) If evening is setting in bats and even frugivorous flying foxes join in the revel, and termites are devoured in myraids Turn again to the hole I ?lflof Vi a a cmflrcprl WliCllUC (.UO iUOU V?V.?0V., aud you will find the workers busily engaged in plastering it up again and destroying all traces of the flight. The few survivors of the swarm seek the earth, drop their wings and disappear. The dropping of the wings is a marvelous process; two pair, with all their machinery of blood vessels, nerves and ligaments, are instantaneously dispensed with, and the inst ct seems livelier than before; and this mutilation oocura precisely at the exact moment. Seize a termite by the wings at the wrong moment and he will struggle violently to escape, the wings remaining firm in your grasp. Seize it at the right moment, and you will see it lift its body upward and backward like an earwit?, deliberately unhook its wingp, and so escape.?Chambers' J>urn>\(. Jay Gould. Jay Gould's regular broker (Connor) is only one of the many in his service, and Connor himself often employs other * ? 1 brokers in order to carry ous, uuum a secret schemes. It was in this manner that Gould depressed the elevated stock i until it touched the dt sired print, when bo loaded himself with all he could carry. He then changed from bear to bull", working out his scheme with grand success. A vast amount of money wan lost by thoso who sold out under Gould's attack, and the advance of these very shares now adds a million or more to his wealth. It has for ten yesas been Gould's role to watch for weak stocks. When ho has made a s lection ho forces it down by a series of well-concerted attacks, arfd then make* heavy pmchases and forces the market up as easily us ho forced it down; Only a man cf the highest order of genius can carry on such a system, and the fact that Gould succeeds is the greatest proof of his vast natural powtri. Gould is tho most inferior of all leading business men in point of personal appearance and a stranger would take liim for a Bowery clothes dealer rather than a railway king. He has the air of a spruce trafficker in cheap goods. Both front and side face are inferior, but the lower part of the latter is concealed in a heavy beard, so intensely black that it suggests artificial moans. Gould leads a hard life. He labors with closo applicati 11, and is driven by the pressure of his engagements until he may be considered a mere bondman. He has no leisure, no society, no reading, no recreation, but is simply under the whip and spur of necessity. To this has been added the consciousness of impending diinger. He has a bodyguard of detectives to protect him when walking the streets, but he spends most of his time in his oflice, being as secluded as possible. The sense of danger is certainly very natural. I hardly think such u man is to be envied, notwithstanding his immense wealth.?ftcu: Y<.rk Letter. It is one ot ttie unexpiainaum iumg? [ of moral ethics how pe >plo decide so | as to how littlo raiu and hail Hct.ii.u- ic takrs to keen them away frc iw. grayer meeting and how much i? required to keep them away from u 1 good shi.w. THE MYSTERIES OF JUNK. Glimpnea Into a Wonderful Hu?lnei? of Vn?t Extent?flow the Waiite at a (ireat Cltr In UlillX'"d. In a highly complex civilization like that of New York it is not to be wondered at if the waste of this great city has given rise to one of its most marvelous industries. How to utilize every scrap of refuse, every piece of worn out twine or rope, every pair of old boot*, every sheet of moldy paper that may be thrown away, is tin aim and occupation nf narhana ton fVinriRftrwl nprsnnfi dfi ? f??r" ?w i ? pending on this apparently very humble, but in reality highly lucrative livelihood. There are no less than 200 junk shops (wholesale and retail) inNew York; thero are 1,100 licensed junkmen who go out with carts every day to collect the refuse from door to door, and the number of unlicensed ragpickers is es* timated by officers of the license bureau at a thousand at the very lowest. Somo of the junk shops employ from fifty to eighty persons in collecting, weighing, sorting and packing the stuff, and considering the number of families whose bread winners are engaged in the industry it is regarded by those most competent to judge as bnt a moderate estimate that about ten thonsand people are dependent upon it The whole business is as systematized as the United States treasury or the British . civil service. Every "possible description of pasteboard, rag, bottle, waste paper or piece of old metal has its fixed | price, and in a famous jcmk shoo of this I city no less than seventeen grades of f rrrnvoo aI *vi \rtca (wowin 9 YT 1*1 to Vi UlUCiCUV iv-ro MJ I perhaps only one-eighth of one cent j per pound) were counted by the forei man. The most valuable stuff, according to an official of the license bureau especially conversant with the subject, are fl old garments the cloth of which, after being unseamed and ripped open, is worth from ten to fifteen cents a pound to the manufacturers of shoddy. A junkman who has a" lucky day"" and finds plenty of old cloth rags like these, good bottles, the best sort of paper, etc., will make $4 to 85 a day, while a wet day will sorely diminish his profits. The bulk of the junkmen are Irishmen, though a goodly number of Germans have also lately gone into the business; while the Italians, who are mostly unlicensed ragpickers and form quite a large colony in Jersey, Crosby and Mulberry streets, collect from the dumps and ash barrels what the others (who, as Guiteau would say, are more "high toned ") would have left behind. Tfce stuff collected by these Italians is so filthy that moat of it has to be washed before it can be sold, and the best junk dealers do not accept anything from Italians because they say, the manufac! turers to whom they must sell it declare i that it ie too dirty for them. There are two big iron yards in Leroy street where the scrap iron that is collected is bought at a half cent per pound and afterward melted in the foundries, while the light sheet iron is generally disposed of to telegraph wire manufacturers. Take a broken down old stovepipe for instance. That makes excellent material for a telegraph wire and fetches from three to five cents ?"* J pound, according toj quality. An im! mense business is done in bottles. Hardly a medicine bottle is thrown away that i.? not carefully washed out and restored to the trade as new. An east side bottle dealer has almost a monopoly of this business. The grease and fat that are picked up by Italians are sold to rendering establishments ' and reappear as lard, and the meat bones collected are said to be ground for manure, for which purpose they are said to be specially effective. Old hats that are thrown away are stripped off, , recovered and reopened, and the east I side "manufacturer," who has bought [ the hat originally from the ragpicker j for ten or fifteen cents, resells it. in its ' rejuvenated shape, for one or two i dollars. Old boots and shoes I are worth anything, from five cents upI ward, and sold to the Baxter street . ' shoemakers, who nse them, as far as' ; possible, in making np their " new : shoes." Quite a romantic chapter and j one fall of the most extraordinary inciJ dents is opened by an attempt to de[ scribe the lucky "finds" mado in refuse : heaps by junk dealers and their em: ployes. Perhaps the most remarkable of these was the discovery of the secret correspondence relating to the marriage of Jerome Bonaparte and Miss * Paterson, of Baltimore, and the subsequent negotiations between the Paterson I and Bonaparte families, in the waste I paper of the old warehouse of the bride's i father. From the letters found in this j strange manner the entire history of i these negotiations between tLe Paterson I family and Napoleon, and of (heir failure, was collated and the result pubi lished in 1873, in a book. A lirm of junk dealers had purchased the refuse of the warehouse as suen, and in the : emptying out of some long-closed , I desks the letters probably found their . ; way among the waite paper. Thus the I waste paper stock of an old warehouse ' AnknAlIn f r\ CAVVA for fcllrt uaa uubuauj uwou ui?v<v ?.w* w .w. purposes of contemporaneous literature. j But junk dealers tell of other cxtraordinai ry "findr " A Maiden lane jewelergave ! up a diamond ring which was sent to * : him by express as lost, when lo! months : afterward the man to whom he sold his ! waste paper 6tock and other refuse | found it in tho heap and returned it to him. Another instance, perhaps equally i remarkable, was tho discovery of indorsed checks to the amount of S3,000,' ! found among the waste paper of a well known city bank. It appeared upon in! vestigation that the owner was not aware of his loss, and had, therefore, taken no , measures to stop the checks, so that j they would have been paid upon pre| sentation. To return to the matter of smaller and every-day losses of this charj acter, the junk dealers veiy frequently | find penknives, postage stamps, scissors ?but money, they all agree, very rarely. [ It would thus appear that while people are reckless with lotters, checks, rings and other articles of value, the hard cash is about the only thing which they will take good care not to drop into lucn naoiu WUV.-UVWCI The women who sort the staff in the junk shops and who are qnite a nnmer: ous class in the city?tbey are called I 'Korlera"? all understand that these articles belong to *.ho perquisites of the foreman or superintoucUnt of the shop. " Them's my pickings," a foreman tip- ''- jf town paid, and he ad-^ed with great gusto that the autographs of wellknown persons often found in heaps of moldy letters f >rmed a very pleasant additiou to his wages. He bad studied up the subject of autographs thoroughly and knew their commercial value, | both hero and abroad, to a penny. He i could tell off-hand what the autograph in a letter of Washington or Jeffer?on I or General Jackson or auy publio man would fetch in the open market just as he could tell whether a bundle of old paper brought to him was worth one . | and a half cents or one and three-quarter cents per pound. J n visiting a junk shop the writer was not a little surprised to tee some torn "L" railroad j tickets on the floor. He picked them , up and said: "Surely you don't bay these?" "Certainly," was the junk dealer's prompt resi onse, "the elevated i railroads sell their tickets regularly I nfln. 41.^17 liara Iwon fo b nil nnf flf thfl ?* i i-CI k lie ? uuiu uv ru iuikvu boies into which the passengers throw i them before entering the catv. They ! have about three thousand pounds of , these tickets which in falling into the ! boxes are mutilated so that they cannot : be u?ed again, and they are worth about ! one cent a pound. The junk dealers ! buy them just like any other stufl,"? | New York Ilcrnld. A countryman who had selected a seat at trie theater from which he could obtain a good view of the stage was greatly discouraged when a young lady weariug a fashionable hat eat down in ; front of him. He bor^ the affliction in silence as long as he could and then bending forwar.i, said politely: " Please, miss, would yon be so kind as to lower your umbrella V She lowered the api plause of the audience.- Hroriklyn ; h'agh .