The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, February 08, 1882, Image 1
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 .