University of South Carolina Libraries
V _r r'-- - -> . - . < :* ^ ^^ :- 5 u.^ ABBEVILLE PRESS AND BANNER: BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WAKDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C.. WEDNESDAY, JULY 19. 1882. NO. 7. VOLUME XXVII. . - v The lMls of San Bias. KBOM MR. LONOFKLLOW'S r.VT POF.M IN THE JOL ATLANTIC. What pay the IVlls of San Plas To tho Bhipe that southward paiw , For the harlnir of Mazatian ? To them is nothing moro ( Than the Bound of surf on tlie shore ? Nothing more to master or man. , Bnt tome, a dreamer of.dreams, \ To wtiom what is and what seems Are often one and the Bame? The bells of San Bias to me < Have a stranpe, wild melody, J And are eomcthiog moro than a name. For bolls are tho voice of the chnrch: They have tones that touch and search , The hearts of the young and old; ] One sound to all, yet each j Lends & meaning to their speech, \ And tho meaning is manifold. i THE LITTLE KEEPER. I $500 ritIZE STORY. \ i BY ELEANOR 0. LEWIS. , ^bont forty miles inland from the j coast of California is a long, DaTrow valley, carving in ai)d ont to suit the t vaparier. of a boisterous little river t ?th?r- Sun Mignol. 1 A hiph banked railroad adapts itself 1 jnst an faitlifnlly to the undulating liDe of water. Twice, however, in the val- < ley's Jenetb, it crosses the stream by coverrd bridge?, emerging from them to wind on as before by the water's edge. The first bridge is within a quarter of ft mile from the entranco of the valley, and the little, village of Dickson's Junction is in plain sipht. The second bridge is three miles from the first, in the lonely heart of the hills. The hills form a sloping background for the keeper's houpe at the north end of the bridge, but in front they rise so steep as to seem almost perpendicular. No other bonnes are in sight. The nearest is at. Dickson's Junction. A number of trains pass day and night, but. none stop at the keeper's bouee. The "keeper" of the bridge seme years ago was a Scotchman called Donald Craigie?a hard-featured, tall and large-boned man. with stooping shoulders and weather-beaten face. In his earlier days he had been a miner?an adventuresome and successful one. But. all at once misfortune came npon bim. The bank failed in which be had placed his earnings ; there were many sad hearts, but his perhaps was saddest. Not only was the work of a lifetime gone, but the hopes of a lifetime too. The rid mother in Scotland whom he bad left when a mere boy he could not now expect to see. ? When the news of her death came a 1 few months afterward ho was hardly surprised?he had felt in his heart that < it wonld be so. Bnt this was not the worst; a few weeks mere and his sweet 8 wife died, leaving him alone in the f world with a helpless baby daughter. B And now for a year or two he carried x on a desperate strangle with fortnne; [ po desperate that it is oot mnch won ler r he grew bitter and gloomy. When at I last through an old mining acquaintance, who, more fortunate than him- g wlf, was now a wealthy director of the j San Mipnel railroad, he was offered the f poet, of brider. keeper, he was glad to r aocppt it.. The pa-? was small, bnt it t as sure; and above all it pave him a <3 home and Hip chanoo of keeping little a Jenny Tinder his own care. So hero in the rongh cottage by the c bridce ho anchored, and was bridgetender, honpekeepor and father all in t ona * TTn ornVif .Tonnr lmr olr^ViaVinf. 1. * JL1U V ViJUa< uut Mi^uwvvv || when she was oldenoneh; he made her r clothes?and curions affairs they were; t ho whittled out littlo playthings for a her: he fold h?r rambling and poorly- y invented series, and found the interest. a of l?i? ljfeinhrr daily pleasures and L griefs. Once a fortnieht in snmmer, once a n month or less in the rainy season, he fi went, to Iho Junction for provisions, ii matches, thread or whatever was p reeded in his little honsehold. He n spoke to no one except, those ho had s dealinrs with. His old acquaintances he onite passed by. t "With bowed head and hasty steps he went throuah the town, did the neees- a sary errands and hnrried away, breithincr more freely as he left the honses f behind him and entering the deep valley came nearer to bis bridge and h Jenny. For Jenny was snch a comfort! She was crowing up into a slender, a dolicate little creature, warm-hearted t and loving, but sensitive and grave be- t vnr.il linf vonrn Tho father and child ? lived like two hermits, saying little to t each otber, happy in the mere being g trcrether. i . It was a c?eat day wbe\i she fl/st went t to the villas, when she was in her i Rixtb rear. Part of the way her father t darned her, part of the waf she trotted bv his side, her hand in his, and talking c 4 - * with nnnsnal animation Bnt as tbev went np the long street, J hand in hand, somehow her baby ea?er- t ness died away. She felt rather than e understood the amusement, almost v ridicnle, with which they were greeted, b And they must have been a queer- a looking pair? the child especially c must have attracted attention with her i outlandish dress and frightened, wild little face. c It was onlv human nature after all that the children should gicrele and the l grown-up people stare; but all the I same the child felt it. 1 Thereafter there wan" a*Tnew element ] in her life?the flense of grief and per- t Bonal hurt. She would not refuse to go i with her father since he liked to have 1 his little girl with him, bnt each trip to the town was a small tortnre to her. c Oraigie?long nRed to being the ob- \ ject of a not too kindly attention ?hard- c ly noticed that bestowed upon the child, 1 except as it reflected on himFelf, and J formed one reason more why they should keep to themselves and be all in all to i each other. So back Ihey would go from the town, and at the first sight of the bridge his heart would warm. "WeeJ, Jinny," he would say, "here's oor briar again." And with intuitive womanliness the child felt that phe ought not to sadden poor father with her trouble", bo che locked them in her own small breast. In this monotonous way the time passed on till the winter that Jenny was nine years old. The dry season had been unnsnally prolonged and hot, so that when the* winter rains at last set in they were everywhere welcomed. The bills grew faintly green and the air had an almost springtide warmth. But Donald Craigie shook his head rather ominously when Jenny cried out that she wished this nice warm weather would last a long time. " It's up to nae guid, I'm thinkin'," said he. " It lniks to me like there 'ud be a reg'lar docnponr by to morrer or sooner." When their earlv dinner was over he proposed going to Dickson's; for. as he told Jenny, there was no knowing when the weather would let them get there again, and various things were needed. A soft but not unpleasant rain was falling as the two went down the main street to Jansen's store and grocery combined. " There's old Craigie and his girl," said one person to another, as they - - passed. Owing to the rain there were more lonngers than usnal in the store, and as i? the way with an idle crowd they gave all their attention to the last new-comer. Craigie entered the store without looking round and walfeel straight to the counter. "I want a dooble box o' matches," faid ho, ' a paper o' ye'nt, a gabllon o' molasses and a cahn o' oil." These orders were filled in tho midst of an attentive wilence on the part of the audience. Then Jansen, who was a big coarse-grained fellow, made bold possibly by po many spectators, winked at them as if to say, "We'll have a little fun," and addressed Craigie: "Matchep, molasses, oil and yeast, here they are, sir; now what else?" "Nothin'," said Craigie, shortly, and pulled out his leather purse. "But these things are for your f house," urged Jansen. " These are for your houso ; don't ye want something for yourself ? Checked shirts, now, or"? "Noo, I till you,'1 said Craigie, who by this titne had taken from his purse the right amount of change. " Or for your little gal now ; an apem, or?or? a hat, you know*" Continued Jansen, with a side glance as he spoke at thfl YTttv nondfiRp.rint artiolo that Covered the child's head. At the word hat there was an audible titter from the loungers, and Jansen, catching his advantage, went on, " Or maybe a droes now?" THr time the lau??h was universal and louder. Poor Jenny stood there mute, miserable, shamefaced ; a tiny mark for so many arrows. But something in the laugh and the general stare seemed to rouse Craigie, not so much to anger as io the perception that there must be omething really amiss to cause it. He looked down at Jenny's little juivering face, and for the first time perhaps was aware that the headgear which.framed it was in no respect like ordinary headgear. He saw, too, the jueer tags with which her dress was idorned, and the mottled frontispiece, yhicli only by courtesy could be called in apron. xnip, to mm, new aspect 01 tmngf, ;ook his mind quite away from the meering tone of the storekeeper and 'rom the interested crowd. He looked ike a man who had just woke up. "Ye may bo reet," he said at last; 'she an' I live? aloone like, and I luik it little bat keepin' her warm." Then he turned to Jenny. ."What id ye like, me bairn ? A nice ap'on' stead o' this?" looking at the article irith which she was misadorned. Scared, yet fascinated by the thought )f the new apron, 6he looked up at her 'ather with a face that expressed a Measure he was quiok to read. " Shoo is the calicooes then," said he; "and rinny, ye sail pick for yoursel." Janeen must surely have been drinkng some of his own whisky, for in gen >rai ne was coo snarp a Dusmess man to nsult pa.ving customers; besides, le very likely felt that public eentinent was on his side and against >aigie, whose silent, unsociable wavs pere not at all in his favor. At any rate, under pretense of getting salicoes, he pulled down a pile of igured chintzes and cretonnes. One >iecein particular he unfolded before he child. It was a dark ground, ;overed with figures of gaudy birds, presumably parrots, and monkeys jlimbing impossible palm trees. Jan?en put his finger, as if by chance, on one >f the monkeys, saying with a wink &<* ajj _ it mt_ _ 2 1 ? T le aiu bo, " j.uis ao uuuut juur oljio, jl eckon." A roar of laughter followed this sally. 5raigie mado a quick, wrathful move nent toward Jansen, but fonDd himself trrested by Jenny's clinging hands. Che child was weeping wildly. "Oh faither! faitherl" she kept saying, ' coome away, coome home." He hesitated a moment, but finally itooping took her in his arms and aced the loungers with blazing eyes ind a kind of rough and savage diglity. By this time they were all silent, lalf ia expectation of a fight, half from eal regret as they looked at the sobring child. <it i? n v,;? X BupjJUDiJ, nniu vioi^ir, xu. uio trong, barsh tonep, now full of suppressed passion, ' ! suppose je think it une to laugh at a mitberless baby 'at liver hairmed ye''- turning to go?"ye nah think it fnne noo, an' yemah think lifferent snroe day, when yor ain bairns re mitherless." The men parted right and left without a word, leaving a lane to the door. Vhen it closed behind him two or hree, who had laughed among the oudcBt, looked after him and emembered afterward how as he urned the- corner and disppenred in the drizzling rain, Jenny, Fhom he still held, suddenly put an rm around his nock as if to steady lerself. All the merriment was over. Juusen Qade au uneasy attempt at a joke, aa he olded the monkey pattern; but no one lughed. The common feeling was exiressed when Jim Barker blew from his south a quid with some violence and aid: "I'm darned if ever I laughs at them wo again 1" Ah no I no one would laugh at them gain ! "Dinna mind it, Jinny," said her ather, as the two neared home. "No, father," answered Jenny; yet ter lips quivered as she said it. Meantime the rain grew heavier, ,nd if possible wetter. By the ime they reached the bridge hey were drenched. The swollen iver was roaring telow, beating against he stone piers with a deep, angry ?owl. Donald Craigie examined the tim>ers closely, almost inch by inch; and t -was with a troubled face that he said o Jenny, on entering the house: 'Tm'thinkin' there'ull be tronble, ay bairn, if the water gaes on riBin'." Indeed, his anxietv was so sreat that fenny quite forgot her recent grief, and be two ate their evening meal in ilence. It was five in the afternoon Fhen they reached homo; in half an lourthe east-bound freight-train passed, it G o'clock the express, and after each me Craigio made a careful and minute nspection of the bridge. There was to be another train at 8 >'clock, then no more till midnight Jenny, tired out, fell asleep at last )y the tiro. Her father put her on the )ed without undressing her, and settled limself for a short nap in his chair. 3ut he could not sleep. The noise of he storm grew louder, the cry of the lver sharper, ana an anxiety possessed lim that he oonld hi no way control. Twice, lantern in hand, he went out, srosaing and recrossing the long, gloomy )ridge. All was safe, however, and he jailed himself a fool for his pains. Still ie could not reBt; and at a qnarter of } o'clock he started for a third trip. Some noise he made woke Jenny, and ihe asked if the train was gone. "Not ret, my bairn; but I'm gaein' oot to see that a's safe." So saying he bent over Jenny and lior FTnxu TParl va lilrA if Jrnny," said be, " to gae where there'd be nae trains by night, an' nae brig wi' the water swirlin' ?" "Why, faitherl" eaid Jenny, with wide-open eye?, "wad ye like it, persel' ?" "I'mnae savin* that," he answered, "bnt we'll think of it, we'll think of it, we'll think of it, my bairu." And with \ final kiss he went out into the storm. Jennie, flattening her face against the window, watohed the lantern bobbing in and out, till it disappeared. By this she knew he bad entered the bridge. Half a minute perhaps slipped by when all at once her heart gave abound, then seemed aotnally to stand still, for ibove the noise of the storm a dull, grinding roar met her ear, then a thud, then the rush ol the storm once more. It took but a few minutes for her to reach the bridge and call ' Faither! ' forgetting that even if all were well he could not p0B8ibT7 hear her in that elemental din. No voice, no light, oame through the rain to meet her, and hope died in her heart; e-lie knew she should see him no more. But?the train I At that moment her scared senses came back to her. There was no time to ciy. She must take her father's place as far :is possible and try to stop the train. She hurried back to the house, and with grave, nnchildish forethcnght, took off her shoes for fear of slipping on the wet timbers, tied a shawl firmly arouDd her, and lighting another lantern started again for the bridge. Onoi within it she advanced cautiously, throwiag the light of the lantern before each step. It was only too easy now to see what had happened. The middle pier had -given way, carrying with it in its fall both beams and planking. Between the two halves ol the bridge there now yawned a black gulf, but feebly spanned by a ragged, shivering timber, whose length had secured it a momentary hold. The whole structure indeed was trembling and the other piers might any moment follow the first. Imagine it?the shaking bridge; i tremulous flare of the lantern agaii the darkness; the long, wet beam spi ning a black chasm up through whi came the prowl of the wild river, do to meet which came tho stormy rush 1 fhb * on/1 in tl>n f\f if- oil j mere speck in space?the child, j There was bat one thing to do n she did it. Unsteadily balancing h self, and clutching the lantern tight she began to cross the beam. Her li bare feet clung to it like fin rers. Si by step she advanced, though the wi seemed to snatch at her, and clutch 1 limbs, and try to throw her into t raging darkness below. Once she almost stood still, afraid i go back or forward. Then she felt t timber quiver, and with a desperato j fort she broke into a run that carri 'her over tho gulf. She stumbled, I i had no time for more than one backwt I glance, which showed her a blank wh< the beam had been. A few steps more and her feet f the wet, gravelly earth of the op track, down which 6he fairly flew, the face of wind and rain. It had taken precious time?tl perilous passage?and 6tie Knew ttiat t less she could reach tho straight line track beyond the cur^o all she had dc would be in vain. And she did reach juet as a luminous glow at the far e marked the approaching headlight the engine. The sight gave her new strength a she ran swiftly forward, waving t lantern from side to side, till all at on something eeemed to give way witb her, and she fell heavily to the earl When after much panting and pu ing the great engine stopped was half a yard perhaps from a litl heap that lay across the track, with broken lantern beside it. "It's a child," explained the en( neer to the men who came m ning up. " Why," looking mo closely, " it's old Craigie's girl. I've se her playing by the bridge. Somcthin) napponea to Dnng ner nere. A couple of brakeman hastily caug np lantems and ran ahead. When a few minutes they came back it w with pale faces and voices shaken wi excitement that they told their story. "How the child got over, I doi know," said one; "for the middle of t bridge is gone, cat clean out." There was a great stir at the Junctii after the train had steamed back ai the reason made knowD. Ent silen fell on all when a big brakeman carri tenderly into the waiting room -a lim childish figure, \vhose face, wet wi the rain, was deathly white, and who feet were bare and bleeding. There was quite a crowd of peop! but they fell back to give her air, whi the doctor and some ladies from t train chafed her limbs and in eve way tried to rouse her from her faint. They were so far successful that last her eyelids fluttered, then slow opened, and she looked about h< Big Jansen's face, near by, this tie full of an anxiety and grief that almc transformed it, was neverthele familiar to her, and seemed to brii her suddenly to the memory of wh uau 'Mr. JaneeD," the suit!, poftl 41 faither meant to mak' me laik nic We thought I did. Per'?tps he did; ken how. Bau" ?after a second's pau ?he'll no J>e back, the water"? The babyish voice trailed into sileuc The eyelids closed. Tho dcctor, st: kneeling beside her, quickly put h haad on her wrist, <h->n over her heai When at length lio looked up Iim tri< to ppeak, bnt could not. Then he turm and walked abruptly out of the circ to hide the tears that filled bis eyes. There was a long silence, broken on by sobbing from the ladies who stoi around. Yon should have seen little Jenn} face the next day, so smiling and whi in her coffin. Another long coffin stoi beside hers, l?ut this was closed ; f wbtMi they found DjmUd Craigic'a boo half a mi!o below tho bridge, it w crushed almost beycnd recognition. Tbere is new a new bridge and a m keeper, who is a popular man at Die son's. But there is no one who spea otherwise than gently of " poor Cn gieand no one whose voice will n tremble a little when he tells you abo Jenny. Out in the village graveyar which slants up the nearest hill, is white etone on which is cut, not too ? tistically, a weeping willow. Under t willow are the wordj : "To the memory of Donald Craigi and Jenny, his daughter, who died trying to save others. This stone is p Ujf XJ.KJUIJ v ttUOCli. ?X U ' C .1 V" panion. The Bursting of the Monsoon. The brief message which reached a day or two ago from Bombay?"i monsoon has burst"?has a meaning it which onlj#hose who have lived India can fully understand. On t regular "bursting" of the monsoon t very existence of the people of Inc may be said to depend. But for t monsoon the whole country would peri under its glaring sun ; and during t rtn^lrr /InTrn r\f Th?a A n /y 1 T w <11' n n n 1 a caiij uojo ui u uuo au^iu-iuuiauo IU anxiously for the brief announceme of itBComiog. The southwest monso sets in generally toward the eud April, the steady wind sweeping up frc the Indian ocean and carrying with dense volumes of vapor, which slow collect in dark masses of cload as th approach the continent. From Adan Peak in the Iele of Spices, right alo the eastern and western Ghauts andt Nilgris, every hilltop is gradual shrouded in mist, instead standing out clear and sha against the 6ky. Darker a denser become the cloud masses; t horizon assumes a heavy leaden appe: ance, sometimes kindling into a lm glare?answering to the sense uf c pression, both mental and physi< A/iA/\mrtnninfl if 'l1 k r\ o f rv^ r*nr?Vi / nuii>u auguuijjauiuo iu? xuc atmvc^ui; becomes " close" and oppressive ali to man and beast; but" the heat born, with patience, for relief is at hac Flashes of lightning play from cloud cloud, and heavy thunder reverberai through the heavens; the wind &t denly springs up into a tempest, a along the shore the white waves i tossed in foam against the rocks over the burning sand. Then a f great heavy drops of rain fall, like ba of lead from the apparently laden b] the forked lightning is changed sheets of light, and suddenly the flo< gates of heaven are opened, and i rain, bnt sheets of water, aro poui forth, refreshing the parched ear carrying fertility over the surface of I country, filling the wells and natu reservoirs with a fresh store, and repli ishing the dwindling rivers and streai The whole earth seems suddenly called to life. Vegetation may most bo seen to grow, n from tho baked mud of the river bar emerge countless fishes, which weeks or months before have lain th< ;n torpor. The phenomena of I bursting of the monsoon are repeal from hilltop to hilltop, till tho wh country, from Cape Comorin to Bomt and the great plains beyond, is simil ly visited. Then follows a period comparative repose, during which t welcome rains continue to fali, w but short intervals, for three or f< months, invigorating and refreshing things.?St. James' Gazette. Aphasia. In tho latter part of his life Mr. I{ erson was afllicted with aphasiaparalysis of the nerves or brain-cells, which depends the power to control 1 speech. Everybody is familiar with I difficulty, for everybody knows at tin what it is to vainly try to utter so familiar word or name. In Emersc , casa it was mainly an impossibility i speaking person's names. He knew person well enough ; could describe h . exactly, hud a perfectly clear notior [ whom he wa3 talking, but bo could : [ pronounce the na.ne. On his reti ; Irom Longfellow's funeral he sa " That gentleman whose funeral we h 1 been attending was a sweet and beai i Jul soul, but I forget his name." I t Blaok velvet is muoh used for tr ming dreeses of shepherd's plaid. ,ne Nightmare* Qst The terra nightmare must not be si ?n- posed to nave any reference to 1 ich horspj the mate meaning spirit} elf wn nymph. Tims in (Germany the nig of main or "night hag," is popttla ?a known as the "alp," i. e., elf. Amoi too, its provincial names is "mahrt," nd "mulir," different, forms of a word wh ?r- lias no relation whatever to the equ ly, speciep, bnt is identical with the Sansh ttl marut. We may also compare the :pP preasinn with the Anglo Sixon "wo< nd oue;e" (wood-ma:^ Thich is equivah ier to "echo." Indeea, ^8 soon as to recogDize the true meaning of nightmi as meaning a "night-Bpirit" or "nig to elf," wo havo tlie key to the rif he interpretation of many of those oth ?f- wise obscure superstitions und leger ied which in bucIi large numbers have int >ut woven themselves around this curi< ird phenomenon. Thus the once popu sro theory to account for this painful i rangement, oftentimes of the digest ?It organs, was founded on the notion tl ??n certain female demons were in the ha in of ooming at night-time and tormenti men and women by crouching on th iat chests and stopping their respiratii in- As, too, these fienis were supposed of be gifted with supernatural qualiti ce being able, like Proteus of old, it, j change themselves in an instant ii nd | various forms, they eluded the recog of | tion of their victims, and in their d guised shape practiced with compa nd tive ease their mischievous trio Db | nence, uow?jver auiiuun aujr uuu iun co ! be to discover and frustate the influei iin j of sach an unwelcome trespasser, th. was generally of little avail, ff- the unfortunate snfFerer wss ilea it I always overmatched by the insidit bio j craftiness of his midnight foe. I. a too, interesting to note that at 1 present day in many parts of Germa ji- j we find this explanation given to i in-1 count for the nightmare, and, as re ! shall have occasion to show, the pe en j acfry still practice sundry charms a ;'s in&antations to ward off any int fereace on the pai't of these imagina ht beings. in Among these, one of the forms as which the nightmare has been st th posed to make its way at night into t ohamber of slnmber is that of a c i't Thus we are told of a joiner in Bi he who was much plagued with the nigl mure, and night after night was st 3n jected to the most unmerciful treatmt 3(] at its lianas. At last, nowover, ue s ce his foe secretly steal into his room, ecj the form of a cat, about midnigl ,p^ Having stopped up, first of all, t th hole through which it had ma se its entry, ho next proceeded to cat the animal, and to make its capture le> j complete certainty, he nailed it by c ije paw to the floor. Oi awaking, ho he ever, in the morning, much t.o his 8' ry piise and alarm, he discovered, in t place of the cat, a beautiful you at woman with a nail driven through I \j hand. Attracted by her c!iarms, }r married her, and in process of time th Qe had three children. One day, howev he uncovered the hole which he h S3 stopped up, when, much to his disn rjg and consternation, she instantly resum at the shape of a cat, and escaped throu it, never to return again. Stories of tl y( kind are very extensive, and un< !e] i various fornix are found scattered hi Qa j and there in different .parts of the c< tj0 tinent. Sometime?, too, the nightmare i ,e# peara as a mouse or a weasel, yet ne< [j] a9 a horse or a mare. CuiiouB to n ii8 an absurd blunder has been perpetrat rt j by u loyal academician in hi* celebral e(]! picture of the ' Nightmare," in whi 3cj j he represents the fiend in equine fo .i-> I bestridine his unhappy riciim. I 'ic w ? one, however, of the most popular i ]y tions is that it is a demon or fiend w 3(j takes advantage of the honrs of dai nesfi, when special license is suppos to be given to beings of the ^hos |0 world to take their walks abroad, ride through benighted districts, ,.r order either to throttle soroo snori y pea-ant, or to make itself actually pr | ent in his dreamp, and thereby inteus j their grim reality. Indeed, this idea found even among savage tribes, a may be traced back to a very remi kg period. Thus, by way of example, ji. are told how the North Amerioan . ot dians, after a night of debauchery a ut excessive feasting, are eaid to bo visit by nocturnal visitors of a not v< a agreeable kind, who with threateni ir. gestures scare their sleeping victic lie Again, the Caribs, when subjected hideous dreams, often on awakeni ie have declared that the demon Mabc in has ill-treated and beaten them in th lUfc sleep, affirming that they could e\ still ieel the effects of his rough tre ment. Hence, in the early days Christianity, the idea found favor many eyes that the demon of nightmi was one of the means which Satan e lie Pl?yed *01' molesting and seduci Luman souls. Persons, therefore, wh< ^ slumbers had been broken by impi and unholy dreams were believed j have been unconsciously under 1 .. influence of Satan's sway, and to hi . indulged in sinful desires and inclii sb tions' k Among the many tales which ill j. trate the theory of the nightmare being a demon, we may briefly relat ^ Netherlandish one which is a fair j ample of olhars of a similar kind. T young men were in love with the sa lady. One of them being tormoni . every night by a nightme.ro, sought i [ vice from his rival, who took advantc 7 of his act of confidence, and gave h _ the subjoined piece of treacherous i v? vice: "Hold a sharp knife with 1 ,, point toward your brea&t, and yoi % never see the Mara again." His co rade thanked him, but on retiring Q*j rest he thought it as well to be on I . safe side, and so held the kn handle downward, Consequently, wl j at midnight the Mara made ] ( accustomed visit, instead of fo ing the knife into his brea she cut herself badly, and escaped fr . the room making a terrible noise. rJ j legend unfortunately does not tell the issue of this tragic affair, but can only hope that the young man veDged himself on his false ana m: cions rival by promptly marrying 1 na yonng lady. ire or Cotton Seed Oil. ew The gonrmand who carefully ma lis np his own dish of. cool-looking sal sy; says an exchange, is very apt to bo to ceived into believing that the rich g )d- colored oil he pours upon it is from lot land of olives. It is an almost e' ed chance that it is from the land of cott tb, for the sale of cotton seed oil for olive ;he has become so extensive that the I ral iau government has begun to t: 2n- strong measures toward keeping ns. former product out of Italy, where i re- taken in Italian vessels from New all leans, to be bottled and labeled, i ird returned to this country, so that ed iks chants can say ib is imported. But, for those who dread the substitnt ere of cotton seed oil tor olive i ;he there is comfoit in the fact that ted supply of the native product is limit ole for planters whose lands are thin pre >ay to return the seed to them, and the < ar- ton lands of the lower Mississippi, wh of do not need careful fertilizing, f he nish the seed fcr the seventy cot ith seed oil mills in the Sot )ur This enterprise is bound to rem all confined to the South, for the seed so bulky that transportation would bo profitable. That the manufactur cotton seed oil, however, will incre m. is beyond doubt, hb tho raw feed g la through precedes that nearly triple on value, and its oil is being used lor p? Uie and also for lubricating machinery. the 1 aeB M. Grehaut has made a series of mte periments which convince him t ,n'8 death is caused by alcohol when proportion of absolute alcohol in th? blood is equal to the hundredth pari l*m the latter; that the condition knowr t of < dead drunk" eiists when the alco not imbibed ceases to be absorbed and ?rn blood presents the proportion of < id : part of alcohol to 195 of blood?m av? than one-half the fatal quantity. ^1 observer thinks that if fewer dea occur from drunkenness than might expected it is because drunkards s im- drinking before the fatal proportion alcohol in the blood has been reache the Farm afto household, ip , the lonnar I'lim. or The first three months of a pig's f.xht istence is the most critical and to its rly owner important period of life, for it is ig. daring this time that its constitution is 0r either established, weakened or deich strojed. Every impediment to growth ine and strength or the pig tells on the :rit fntnre hog. Cold, damp, uncomfortable Rx quarters at anj time are a detriment, ju. and especially so while the pig is as 3nt, sensitive as it necessarily mast be at the we time of farrowing. Clean, comfortable arp | bedding should replace that which may lxt- be darap and hard. It is the practice of 'ht S00^ breeders to clean ont the pen 'er. about the second day or so after the 1(jg sow has farrowed and put in new er_- and clean bedding, increasing the JU8 quantity, for the pigs evidently enjoy jar snugging up in the freBh litter. At no stage in the life of the animal, as above ive intimated, will good care yield better hat returns. That perfect comfort is the bit highest profit, is well understood by ing every successful raiser of swine. If ejr straw is used for bedding (and nothing 3n_ is much tetter), it is best to put it to through a cutting box; it is thrn much e8) better than leaves, oranyttiingelse that to we know of. If used the natural length 2to there is some risk tbat the pigs may get entangled and be laid upon by the j8_ mother. If the sow has a warm, comTa_ fortable bed she will lie quiet until she bs. gets hungry. She should have all" the jht food she wants right along so lce that she can supply her pigs it with an abundance of milk. As a8 during the first weeks of the life of her j rjy offspring her milk is their only food, it ms is of course important that she shall i8( supply it in ample quantity and of o, he quality suitable to their digestion. Shti Dy should have generous feed not less thar. a(f. three times a day. Slops of ground W6 feed, grass or clover, as well aa corn, a3. together with the roots sufficient to nd keep her digestion complete, will enBr_ able her to supply her yot.ng with suf,ry ficientfood; but this point should be emphasized, and we repeat that she in must be well fed and carec for if sho is tp. expected to give an abundance of milk ,he and keep up her own condition. It 18 at. far easier to do this than to build her up !hl after being run down by the tax upon her, it- when not well fed, in suckling her ib- young. Another thing. A hungry sow )nt will eat any kind of slop or other food, aw however unwholesome, but she cannot jn consume such food and supply pure, it. wholesome milk. On this point an inhe telligent swine breeder says: "In seatde sons when millers are grinding poor ;ch and sprouted wheat we do not find mill ? ? feed flafe or profitable. Mill feed at all iD6 seasons, and especially such seasons, is w. an uncertain quantity; and we prefer to ar. know what wo feed if we expect to get be good results; consequently wo have Dg found our best results from mixing ter clean, sound corn two parts, clean, he Bound oats three parts, and having iey them ground very fine, and adding er> wheat, bran and oil cake meal acoordad ing to the season. If we have no gi*a?s iay or roots we supply more bran and oil ed cake meal. They are our regulators, gh Slop thus made and fed sweet has tiis proven most satisfactory to U3. After |ef the pigs get to bo three or four weeks 3re old we arrange trough and feed for )n. I hem, where they may eit and not bo disturbed by the sow, and so that they , jp. will not be teasing the mother for supper plies, which bhe cannot always afford, ay, be she nevor so willing. The little ;e"d fellows enjoy 6uch a side table, and if " * ? i-- -1- -1 ?;i\_ ;e(j inej nave a iruugu ui mua. iuu [ch better they like it. Milk for pigs, after rm four or five weeks old until they are as jQt many moDtbs old, will mafcea pound 10. of pork for every gallon consumed, ho And then to this value we may add the k- unknown but immense gain in improved )ed condition of the pigs " tjy The sow nhouJd have grass, if possit0 ble, and wbile tba is inclosed cat and jd feed it to her. In a few days, if bLo Dg can have the run of a good pasture, it will bo what she needs in addition to ifj her other fare. Thus carod for yoar , jfl sow will keep in good condition herself ,nfl and meet jour wi?hes and reasonable 3te expectations, in rearing a thrifty, vigorwo ous litter of pigs.?Prairie Farmer. In nd Trnlnlntr n Colt. :od The most successful way of training ;ry an animal ia to begin at birth. It is ni7 fli?n roadilv mnmiced. as there is no as. acquired habit to bo overcome. A to vicious animal at birth has never been ng known. Only the germs for the forma>ya tion of character i?re there to be develeir oped or not as circumstances may inren fluence. at- Only what is learned influences the of animal at this tender age, when tho in susceptibility is strong and the impresare sion made in lasting. It cannot possibly :m- know anything else, as no effect cart tog exi3t without a cause. This is especially jse favorable ae it applies to the horse, and iro all the more so :if the blood bo selected to with a view to l'avor what is wanted, the To ignore breed must always be a dis*ve advantage to a greater or less extent. ia_ The question with many hero oome3 up, whether it will pay to take this U3- pains. Tho horse is a sufficiently valuas able animal to admit of this and more ? u. wlien we oonsiaor ine enecuve wors ue ex- is capable of, and the length of the time 'wo of his service?at least a score of years me if properly treated. Here is a vast ted amoaot of laboi, and all the more eTeci(l tire and ready from the right draining kge in the start, which occupies only a im couple of years?a not unpleasant tasic id- where interest and intelligence inspire the and direct; aDd these are necessary to I'll success. The trainer, if a brute of m- a man, will continue the brute in to tho horse, and distort the character, ;he and as a result abuse will follow, gettif? ting comparatively but a small share of tan labor out of him, and that of an unaatis uer factory character. This does not pay ; re- neither does the usual way of " breaki8t, ing," which means overcoming by force om what was established by habit, and he which can nevor bo wholly eradicated us or subdued. In such case, anin bad we training, the vicious habits formed and re- strengthened from early colthood will ali- more or leas crop ont in all after life, the making the unreliable, aw. ~ard, obstinate beast that we so ofteu see, and that is relied on so largely for work. The important point to be /-*?-?* in attt in f vn lmnnr kes iVCFw ALX ??ott ^uiuiu6 a(^ a colt is to teach him what you de' want him to know, and only tbut. Make this the object, and persist in carrying th0 it out. In order to do it sucsessfully 7en two things are necessary?kindness and on decision; these must never be lost 0jj sight of. Let the colt know you mean tal- wo^ *D- star' anc* subsequent handling. And in directing him, give tl1Q bim to understand that thereis no other j8 way than yours, and he will soon be Qr, made to respond to the gentle, yet firm, pressure. Lot your society be among ier_ his first impression^. Pass yonr hand {.Q softly over him and pat him, but do j0Q not tire him. Repeat your visit, at 0jj first at short intervals. Sou will thus, in his mind, be coupled with his ecj mother, and share her familiarity and also tlio sense of protection. If yon seJ0(._ enre Lis attachment and reliance upon ich ^ou' y?u ^ave tbe bonis for all ur> your work. When leading the mother toE put a halter on the colt also, so as to get hi m used to it and give an idea of [ajj restraint. Continue this in the stable. In the use of the halter care must be nol' exercised ho a6 to avoid rathne?8 and eoi undue severity. Bat always maintain aS(" your firmness with him, never yielding oef| in what you undertake, being miro you jj.j' undertake only what is necesnnry, and kjuj what his been previously determined upon. But you liavo confidence; ho is young, and you never can handle him so readily as now. when ex- he is the feeblest and has not learned hat differently. He will soon yield to vour the way, the only way ho will know, and all the tho more when he knows it does him no ; of harm. This last is important. If harm 1 as is to come to him, let it not come from hoi yon. Make him familiar with noises and the startling approaches, first of a mild jne character, gradually increasing till the ore most stirring ado fails to move him. Dhe This will prevent his shying. Ha idle ,tl)S his feet; familiarize yourself with every be part of him. Pat things on his back, top light at first, follow with a bag, and at of last, when old enough, with yourself. >d. Whatever is done, never lie to a oolt? 1 V never contradict yourself; he will remember it. and it tfill confuse him?he will be afl apt to go wrong as right All uncertainty must therefore be avoided, and the line marked out for him must be Clear for him, as to jou also; he must be held steady in that until he becomes established in it, when he w>ll not wish to depart from it All must be done with a view, among other things, to make it as pleasant for him as possible, with the restraint always applied where neeie<', and never yielding, but doing it in kindness and with as little ado as poe sible. He thus gradually and uniware to himself learns to do what you want of him, and that alone, if you keep other influences away from him. Never overwork or overexercise him. Do not bother him with heavier loads than he can draw if you wish him to keep from balking. In all that you are to do, do not lose sight of the important element of doing it in a gradual way. If it is thought there is too much to be done let it be remembered that the horse is a valuable animal, and that the pains taken with him increases this value by making him so much the more serviceable, readily handled and always reliable. Every true horseman will ap preciato this. If the colt fails to respond with sufficient alacrity?if, further, he is stupid or awkward or of an indobnt nature?sell him; you do not want him. He will only make a slow, n oil Viia lifAiimA' rnn OVUjyiU wavu UIA UW J W? cannot change his nature. Only a good colt will make a good horse, and you are inexcusable if you get any other.? F, Gin Country Gentleman. ffa vm on (I (iarUcn Note*. One ton of bone dust oontains as much phosphoric acid as 110 tons of stable manure. One ton of the latter, however, contains more potash than five tons of bene dust. Small, yolkless eggs, sometimes observed in the case of fowls, denote overfeeding, most likely an exolusive diet of Indian corn, with little exercise and no green food. Mildew makes its appearance in light patches on the under side of the leaves in graperies. Oheck it at once by dusting with flour of sulphur applied with a bellows on a still, dewy morning. Hen manure carries less water than stable manure, but moro nitrogen and organic matter. As to potash and phosphoric acid, there is a great similarity in the constituents of both materials. It is a good idea to wrap the trunks of apple trees with burlap sacks, and to examine the wrappings every few days 4a AMMAkilttn it iVlA MlinKa LU u*3ut3i uenu 11 auj ui iuc gmvo ui worms of 4he coddling moth have found their waj into them, that they may be destroyed. A New York farmer finds that pouring boiling water over coal gas tar and allowing it to settle and cool is snre death to potato bugs when the vines are sprinkled with the fluid from an ordinary waterpot. A gallon of tar costing seventy-five cents suffices for fifivernl acres. Charred corn is excellent to feed to hens in order to increase their egg-laying capacity. It is not desirable to feed it as their general food but ^a portion of it every day will be found beneiioial. Cbar the corn on the cob pretty thoroughly, taking care not to reduce any part of it to ashes. There is no gain in plowing up sod land in the fall. The most approved practice in the culture of Indian corn, which requires a greater degree of heat than other crops, is to plow in the spring, tut ning under the sod only of sufficient depth to allow just enough soil for properly covering the seed. Toung sheep are Bometimes affected with what, from the symptoms observable, is called the turn or the gid, a brain affection, due to the presence ii ?? - - -*i- -# Al- - .1 II -? witnin ine cavuy 01 me bkuu 01 u hydatid of the tapeworm. If the young sheep be fleshy it should be promptly slaughtered. The operation of piercing tbo skull and destroying the hydatid is, however, sometimes performed with safety. Late cut hay, ordinary straw and other coarse fodders are unquestionably improved by cooking, as it softens the woody fiber and dissolves portions of the starch; and cornmeal and other foods rich in starch are also improved by cooking, But in considering the question of economy; although this will pay on a large sr-ale, it ts not likely to do so for a few animals, for it costs nearly as much to cook for ten as for fifty head of cattle. Itcclpes. Banana Pee.?Slice raw bananaa, add batter, euafar, allspice and vinegar, or boiled cider, or diluted jelly; bake with two crusts. In the South they use cold boiled sweet potatoes in this way, and regard the pie as choice. Cabbage Fbied with Cbeam.?Chop a quart of cold boiled cabbage, fry it fifteen minutes with sufficient batter to prevent burning, season it lightly with pepper and salt, and stir into it half a cupful of cream or of milk with a teaspoonful of flour mixed with it; let it cook five minutes loDger and serve it hot. Green Pea Soup. Put a shin of veal to boil in four quarts of water, with two onions, two carrots, pepper and salt. Let it boil for four hours. Then add two quarts of green peas, not too young; let it boil for a 1 hour and a half; then strain it through a hair sieve or soup strainer. Melt three or four ounces cf butter, and stir them into the soup; ect it over the fire, let it boil fiften minutes, and serve with fried bread. chenbt Pie.?Line a pie-tin with rich crust; nearly fill with the carefully seeded fruit, sweeten to taste, and sprinkle evenly with a teaspoonfnl of corn starch, or tablespoonful of flour ; add a tablespoonful of buttor cut into small bits and scattered over the top; wet the edge of the crust, put on upper crust, and press the edges closely together, tafciog care to provide holes in the center for the escape of the air. Pies from blackberries, raspberries, etc., are all made in the same way, regnlatiniyfVio nrmnf.itv r>f uncar livtho tarfcnnss --e> \i* j o? - > ? of the fiuit. Household Hint*. A few drops of carbonate of ammonia in a small quantity of warm rain water will prove a safe and easy antiacid, and will change, if carefaUy applied, discolored spots upon carpet.', and indeed all spots, whether produced by acids or alkalies. If you havo a carpet injured by whitewash this will immediately restore it. To Wash Lace.?Mix a teaspoon of powdered borax in a basin ot Btrong white castile soapsuds. Baste the lace to be washed verv carefully with fine thread upon two thicknesses of flannel. Souk the laca thus arranged in the suds mixture twenty-four hours or longer if very dirty, changing the 6ud* two or three times. Then lot it lie a couple of hours in clean water to rinse, changing the water once. 8queez 5 it out (do not wring it) and when partiailly dry place tho flinnel, with the lico on it, lace downward, on two thicknesses of dry flannel, laid on a table, and smooth it with a hot iron. When the lace is quite dry, rip it off. It is considerable trouble, but tho lace looks beautifully. A peck of fresh lime, first slaked to a dry powder and then reduced with water to a wash, with the addition of a pound of sulphr.te of zinc and half a pound of common salt mako a pretty good and durable whitewash. At a recent examination by the Calcutta University eight women passed successfully, of whom six are natives of India, and at Bombay seven were successful, including four natives. At the First Arts examination at Calcutta a female candidate obtained a scholarship of the first grade. It is said that under oertain conditions flour becomes as explosive as gunpowder, presumably when it is jammed down in a barrel, wbioh it seldom is. FOR THE FAIR SEX. News and Notes lor Women. One hundred thousand women and girls are employed a? barmaids in England. One of South Georgia's most popular society lad'es, a resident of Ixjwndes county, nafl oiearen ims season on an acre and a half truck farm over $250. She superintended its cultivation in person. Miss Leona Oall, M. A., professor of Greek in the University of DesMoine", has been elected to the same position in tbe Central University of Iowa, atPella. She is a graduate of the Iowa State university and a ripe Greek scholar Natalie, tho young queen of Servia, is a beautiful brunette, of stately figure above middle height, gracetul in bear-' ing and winning in manner. She is extremely fond of croquet, and was the introducer of that game into Servia. Kate Shelley, the Iowa girl who saved a railroad train from wrecking, contradicts the newspaper rumors that she was engaged to be married. She says she desires a good education. The Chicago & Northwestern Eailroad Company should see that her desire be gratified. For the first time in the history of the Unitarian denomination a sermon was preached by a woman. At the Wi stern Unitarian conference, successfully held at Cleveland, 0., in May, Miss Mary F. Eastman delivered the Sunday afternoon discourse on "Immortality," to a crowded house. <___ 1 1 A society 01 women una lauuy ueou formed at Germantown, Pa, called " Tbe Political Education Society." Its object is " the education of its members with a view to increasing their usefulness as citizens of the United States, and the extending of tho means of such education as much as possible toothers." They meet once in two weeks, "read aloud some work upon government or politics, and discuss what they read." The one hundred and first anniversary meeting of tbe Massachusetts I Medical society, held recently in Boston, was of special interest because of the aotion taken in regard to the admission of women. A motion that it was the opinion of the members that women be admitted, and this opinion be communicated to the council, was adopted bj a vote of 104 to 60. The announcement was received with loud I aoplause. But tbe council negatived this action by a vote sixty-five to thirtysix. Fnsaion Notes. Loops and ends of satin ribbon are added to skirt and corsage bouquets. White muslin dresses are embroidered all over both bodice and skirt. Laces, dyed in all the fashionable shades of color, are seen npon costly imported bonnets and ronnd hats. For evening, feather tips arranged in the hair and npon the corsage, fastened in place by diamond pins or brooches, are worn with full dress toilets. Monastic costnmes, really beantifnl in style, are still worn by many ladies of elegant tastes. These dresses are just at present made of black or gray nun's-cloth or vigogne. The turban-shaped toque is essentially the traveling hat of tbe season. It is very often made of the material matching the dress, or of line straw, trimmed simply with a twisted scarf of fignred surah, or bright colored pheasant's feathers laid smoothly over the crown. For tall and slender young ludies is the new French mantelet cut ic exceeditktIv ?rrftc?fn) enrvea. and trimmed ?ov O-? r around with a feathery ruche bordering of fringed silk. These wraps are made of black brocaded gauze, the figures being of raised flowers of velvet or chenille. For dinner parties pink and blaok dresses in true Spanish style are in high vogue. The black material forming the foundation of the dress is of faille, and the ruche lining around tbe bottom of the skirt, tbe Louis XLV. vest, panel facings and sleeve and neck rimmings are of eglantine pink moire. 4V>nt rtvATnioaa fn rarra X iU& ID A UUiUl IUUU ^/iutuiuvu vv this season in every grade of dress goods. There are so many shades 0/ this popular hne that every taste can be suited, although there are many tints, cool and exquisite, that are far more to be desired by aDy one making a selection than the very deep colors that are becoming to neither pale blonde nor rosy brnnette. A stylish laurelpink toilet made simply of fine French organdie has the short skirt covered with rallies, the lower e.dge3 of each being ont in scallops and bound, and underneath these scallops is set a tiny frill of Valenciennes lace about an inch and a half deep A long-pointed bodice of the shirred muslin terminates in front in a bow and ends of pink ribbon, and from each side of this point falls a panier-lik? drapery, edged with Valenciennes, and drawn away in loose up ~ - - - - 1 it. il right folds, ending in puns oeneam mo point in the baok.?New York Post. The Present Mormon Organization. With the death of Brigham Young, the American leadership of the Mormons ceased. Taylor is an Englishman, Cannon is an Englishman, and almost all tho leaders are of foreign birth. The Mormon church is a foreign kingdom, hostile in all its features to a republican form of government ; it is guided and controlled by foreigners, and depends upon foreigners and the children of foreigners for future < xpansion and power. It is absolutely tin-American in all its attributes. It is a theocracy managed by a pleboian aristocracy, for, intellectually, tho whole organization is of a low order. Now, in addition to church ties, there are family ties to hold this people in unity. The organiz*tion is fanaticism and superstition solidified. It numbers probably 150,000 souls, and is increasing as fast as polygamy and emigration can accomplish the result. It is swiftly peopling all the agricultural valleys of our richest Territories, and its leaders boldly proclaim their intention to subjngate the whole Union and bring it under their rule. Thoy exalt their church over the State. Condemn all lawa which conflict with any tenet of their creed, are as oareless of their oaths as a Chinaman, and bear as little allegiance to'the United States government as do the Chinese. The control of the chief.-', as in Mohammedan conntrio?, is absolute, their organization superb, the discipline of the people perfect. From tithes 81,000,000 annually is collected with hich to strengthen their positions. They are a hardy race, indifferent to hardships and privations. Centenarians. Mrs. Clarissa Raymond, of Wilton, Conn., recently celebrated her 100th birthday. William Wrenn, of Spottsylvania county, Virginia; recently died at the age of 100, Mrs. Mary Boynton died at Pepperell, Mass., after rounding a century of life. Mrs Lucy Pickett, who died recently at Saus?atuck, Mich., is believed to huvo been 115 years old. She was born in Plattsbnrg. Mrs. Catharine Highland, of Marietta, Ohio, died recently, aged 102 years. She had a brother 100* years old, and her grandfather also completed a century. Miss Abbie Graham, a widow of Nova Scotia, is 105 years of ago. She retains her facilities almost unimpaired, fpine, knits, and reads without spectacles. Jeeso Delong, who died recently in Dv'nnison, O , was born May 5, 1776 He purchased the land on which he died from the government in 1826. He leaves a daughter seventy-two and a son seventy years of age. Joseph Greene ?nd his wife, of Swanton, N. H , are aged 101 and ninety years respectively. They l ava celebrated their damond wedding, have twelve ohildren, and have eighty-four grandchildren. FACTS AND COMMENTS. The farmers in the border counties of Arkansas and Missouri have discovered an excellent remedy for the horse-thief evil. They have pitted ono.'nat nrmnintinx on/1 aga'uov u*g?ui??uvu, waavc when a band of marauders visit their vicinity they combine in pursuit, regardless of State lines, and hang such thieves as they can capture and shoot such as ?re in dancer of escaping. Asa conseq lence, tbe Jesse James style of business is getting unpopular down in that region, and the farmers minage to keep tteir horses. Frank Mason, one of the robbers of the Brookfield (Missonri) bank, says he was impelled to it by the news he heard # i_ f.ii _ i ? irom iiis iaiuur, a ^aniurma mrmer, whose property was mortgaged and who was being slowly dragged to the grave by his misfortnnes. The son was determined to relieve him at any coat short of bloodshed, and he thought by robbing the bank he conld secure enough to pay his father's indebtedness, leaving him n to suppose that it came out of his son's earnings. His poor father's misfortunes s have not been much relieved. s t! M. Dumas, the perpetual president of the Frenoh Academy, has been in- ? structed by the minister of the interior to make a return of all persons who 6 have been killed or maimed in pursuit 0 of scientific research. It is the desire of the Frenoh government to make t some compensation for suoh casualities n which have hitherto been disregarded. " Some time since, says the Photo. Netcs, 8 we remember meeting M. Henri Pellet, s whose blue-lined copying process is so c well known, and sympathizing with i him on the loss of the fingers of one c hand, which he had sustained through experiments with gun-ootton and nitroglycerine, "I suppose you will give up explosives, now," was our remark. Our friend laughingly shook his head : " I have my other band still," he cried, holding it up. The decrease in the number of sheet) in Great Britain and Ireland in the thirteen years frcm 1868 to 1881 amonnted to 7,712,000. The loss in England res 5,548 000, or 23J per cent; the decrease for Wales was 201,000 sheep, or 7J per cent.; for Scotland, 381,000, or 5.35 ( per cent.; for Great Britain the redac- . tion was 6,130,000, or 324 per cent.; | for Ireland, 1,564.000, or 32? per oentM j showing for the United Kingdom a loss ( of 7,712,000 sheep, or 21.65 per cent. ( This great difference is startling when j wo find from the agricultural returns in < 1868 and 1881 that the loss of sheep j has not been compensated for by any j material addition to the nnmber of cat- , tie, or by a profitable exchange of , breeding and grazing for the cultivation j of grain. Seven wives were murdered by their < husbands in a single day. At Jackson, Mich., a wife called in a policeman to s protect her, whereupon the husband \ shot her, the officer and himself. At s Ridgetown, Ont., a wealthy farmer shot his wife as the climax to a violent quar- ' rel. At Xenia, III., a husband com- t mitted marder and suicide because he c was not prosperous in business. At Burlington, Iowa, a wife was stabbed ' to death by her husband in oonsequence i of her refusal to provide him with 1 whisky. At Canton, Ohio, a woman e was shot in a manner that indicated that, the crime had been committed by bur- i glars, but it has transpired that her c husband did it. At Milford, La , a ne- e gro woman was poisoned, and at Adel- t phi, Tenn., a bride of a month was t thrown over a precipioe. It is strange i that none of these wife slayers was actuated by jealousy. " i t The Cincinnati man ' '.occupying a fine 1 *? -!-? ?T-. 1-3 !.. ( position in society who ms who away from a matinee by tbeear not long ( since bas been interviewed in regard to the proceeding, and gives an interesting acconnt of it. The woman bad got a habit of attending matinees, became familiar with plays, constantly adorned her conversation with allnsions to the stage, and "I tell you I got tired of it." So the husband tenderly sought her to desist, then swore at her on the subject?" then for the first time in my life using harsh language to my wife" ?aDd finally ho led her away from the objectionable performance by the ear. " It had a good effect," says the experimenter. " She is getting along nicely. She never refers to it, and is batter than ever." While the reporter talked with the hnsband the wife conld be v t - _ II ?n neara singing m uuuiuci iuuui, auu uu the household seemed at peace. : The wintering of the orew of the Rogers expedition, sent out in search of J the Jenneatte, was not without its tragic episode. Master 0. F. Putnam, who ' had been left in eharge of the supply depot near Nordenskiold's winter quar- c terfl, hastened to the assistance of the main party#as soon as he received tid- ] ings of the'burning of the vessel. With 1 a native esoort and foar sledges ! loaded with pemmican he succeeded in ' reaching the village where they were lod^t'd, but on his return trip he was c overU'*cn by a terrible storm and carried oxii to sea oc an ice floe. His com- 8 1 ? . ?. .? l: A pamons c*\ugnc a gumpso 01 mm oo?au miles from chore, bat were unable to rescue bim. This melancholy incident * recalls the fate of Joseph Rene Bellot, ^ a gutlant officer of the French navy, c who, after winning the cross of the Legion of Honor while he was 1 only nineteen, volunteered to accom- c pany one of the Arcu'c expeditions sent " ont by Lidy Franklin, and discovered 8 the singular strait which bears his name. Returning to Bariow Strait e with Oaptain IngleQeld in 1853, he per- * ished while making a sledge journey over the ice, being separated from his 9 companions, caught by a violent gust of 5 wind and driven into a deep gulf of open water. Putnam, like Ueiiot. was ; a singularly brave and unselfish officer, 1 and possessed scientific talents of a high * order, 1 ?i \ A Texas Cloud-Uurst. i Captain Merril's corp3 of engineers t and assistants were camped in the val- s ley of Back creek, in Childers county, Texas. Tbeir tents were set one hun- t dred feet from the dry bed of the creek, t This creek was abont twelve feet ? deep from the level of the I valley on either side of the bank. The ' valley is nearly a mile wide, but the ' highlands curved in close to the place t where the camp was pitched, and the valley widened on the opposite bank Tho night was clear, and no cloud in the distance bet .kened a rainfall. The I boys staked their ponies near by, turned e their mules loose and laid th*m down ii to shiep in their tents. About mid- p night ono of the boys felt water at his g feet. Springing up he saw tho water v coming, and yelling like a savagegiving h his war-whoop, roused his companions, a In less than a minute they were all I standing in water up to their wnists. r Kuowing to which sido of them t was the hill, they rushed wildly t through tho water and succeeded t in gaining a safe foothold. The t water rushed by them, covering the en- t tire valley to a depth of six feet, and t carrying away all the tents and baggage t The pony was saved by ono of the boys <3 cutting the stake-rope as he passed him, g he fortunately having gone to bed with * hispautson. Most of tho boys were in e their night clothes, and a solemn set I they were. The sudden rise of water J was undoubtedly caused by what is ^ kuown as a " cloudburst" on the head 1 of tho stream, some twenty or thirty t miles away. Any number of cattle were e carried down r tream, but most of them i finally escaped. ? c "Father ! when a hen sets on an egg i three weeks and it don't hatch, is the ] egg spoiled?" "As an article of diet j the egg is thenco forward a failnro; but i as a specios of testimonial it isstrikiug- ( lv aromatic and eioresaive." A letter m-iiled in St. Lnuis thirty-two I ( years ago to a man in Green fcav has J t just reached its destination. The f imily t were as well as upual when the letter < was written. t To-Morrow is too Far Away. To-morrow is too far sway! A bed of spice the garden is, Nor bad nor blossom that we miss; The roses tremble on the stem; The violets and anemones; Why shonld we wait to gather them ? Their bloom and balm are ours to-day, To-morrow?who can say ? To-morrow is too far away, Why shonld we slight the joy complete; The flower open at onr feet ? For us to-day the robin sings, His carved flight the swallow wings. For us the happy moments stayStay yet, nor leave us all to floct! For Life is Bweet, and youth ia sweet, And love?ah, love is sweet to-day, To-morrow who can say ? * HUflOR OF THE DAY. When Ajax defied the lightning it ras jast after the infliction of a light* ing-rod agent. " There is no evil withont itsoompen ation," said the young man; "the ' horter the summer,' the leas interest here will be to pay on the ulster." Some scientists now observe that yen the clam has parasites. He woald lavti observed as mnoh before if he had 7er noticed the crowd aronnd a free howder. " How supremely beautiful nature ia his morning," said the city guest as he looked out upon the sunrise. ' Nature ia trying to rival you, Miss," aid Farmer Robinson, gallantly. 41 But he has to get up mighty early in the aorning to do it." Perhaps the morn U? tUUCD U1UU W IOOIiO UDVWl. HlfVA m omplimont like that. No, Impudence, you shan't have one I How many times most I refuse ? Away I I say 1 Or else you'll sure my friendship I >??' I cannot bear such forward fna, So quick, begone 1 If not I'll run . Why, now I'll have to be severe? * No, not a kiss to you I'll giveTake care ! I swear I'll tell papa, as sure's I live 1 I never saw a man eo queer ! But?are you sure there's no one near I School Committee Cornered. At on examination of a public tchool >q Staten Island the teaoher, jaatly jroud of his scholars, addressing the ludience, said: "Ladies and gentle* nen, to provd that the boys are not srammed for the occasion, I will direct )Q6 of tqem to open tne antnmene as andom and read out the first problem, rben I shall invite a gentleman of the indience to work out the sum on the joard, and to commit intentional errors, ? vhich yon will observe the boys will instantly detect. John Smith, open ;he book and read the. first question." The scholar obeyed and read ont: 'Add five-sixteentha and nine-elersnths." The teacher turned to the audienoe indsaid; "Now, Supervisor ?? viil you take a step to the blackboard ind work it ont ?" The supervisor hesitated, then said: ' Certainly," but paused and asked the * a ? x i il. eacner : is 11 iair io puo mo cxmIren to bo difficult a problem ?" " Ob, never fear, replied the tracher, * they will be equal to it*" " Very veil," said the supervisor, "go on." Che boy began the question. "Add >le? en-sixteenths?" " No, no I" said the supervisor, ' I rill net be a party to overtaxing the (hildren'a brains. I have conscientious icrnples against it. This forcing sysem is ruining the rising generation 1" md he gave back the chalk and left the oom. 'Well, Judga Castleton, will you avor us asked the teaoher, tendering .he chalk. " I would do so with pleasire," replied the judge, " but I have a sasecomiDg on in my coart in % minute >r two," and he left. "Assessor Middleton, we must fall lack ouyou," ?aid tha teajher, smiling. I AL 11 :J a. ilT tv>oa f " VJUf BiliU tuo BOOCOOUti JL [man JL nean I decline in favor of Collector L" " Well, thai will do," replied the reacher. "Mr. Collector, will you avor us?" "I would certainly?that is?of jourse," replied the collector, "bat? lem! I think it should be refeir.'d to i commit? "Why, bless me I I'll neyer satch it, Good bye I Some other ,ime!" And he left. y " I know Justice Southfleld will not efuse 1" said the teacher, and the juaice stepped promptly up to the black* )oarJ amid a round of applause from he audience. The scholar again began o read the sum. "Add fifteen-six tenths?" A dozen hands went up as the judge nace tne nrst ngures. "Well, what is it?1' asked the *>acher. "He's got the denominator on top >f the lice!" cried the boys in chorus. "Very good, boys, very good; I see rou are attentive" said the judge, as le rubbed oat the figures, turned roi, ind began again, bat was interrupted >y the class calling out: " Now he's got the numerator and " lentminator nnder the line !"? "Aha! you yoang rogues I You're harp, I ste!" said the judgo, jocosely, ,nd again commenced. " That ain't a fraction at all Its one housand five hundred and sixteen l" las the cry that bailed the judge'a new combination of figures. "Beally, Mr. Teicher," ejaculated he judge, 'I must compliment you >n the proticienoy of your scholars in tlgobru! I won't tire their pa'ienoe itiv mnre." " Oh, go on, go on," said the ttachir, and again the jadgo wrote some igures in an off hand manner. "That ain't a fraction! It's six thouand oue hundred and fifty one 1" elled the boys. "Mr. Teacher," said the juJgo, "it could be ungenerous on my part and mply an unworthy suspicion as to jour fficiency, to put thase extraordinarily (right children to additional teats. I could not, I could not-oh! excuse T??nmn T }iimnnrttnt uri xuviu P *>Avif w j ? _? msiness with him. Sheriff! I want to ee you," and he left. Same days afterward a boy was irought before Jud<e Smthfield for hrowing stones in the street. " John" aid the judge, sternly, "were you the >oy that lnu^hed iu school on Monday, phile I wavS working that problem?" 'Yes, sir," was the reply. John got hirty days. How Indians Farm. A gentleman just up from Standing l:ck Agency said the Indians were ngaged in planting. In answer to an oqniry as to how the redn were processing in the peaceful ways of gran* ;ering, be smiled and said their manner ras odd. Every year they seem to now lees about how to farm. Muoh is ttributed to the fact that they are earning the ways of the whites too apidly. They begin to understand hat as soon as they can grow crops heir rations will be cut off and hence heir growing ignorance of agriculnre. If they are given a bushel of leans to plant, they will eat nineenths of the amount and plant one enth and the one-tenth will be lumped in three or fonr holes in the [round. Last spring they were furnished rith five busholo of onion eeed"'. They :oulun't eat them and conupqnently jlanted the tntire five bushels on a )iece ot ground fifly by 100 feet. They vere too lazy to procure a larger patch; jesides, it would have been contrary to heir policy of maintaining the lation iy8tem. When the onions came np it vas a crrious sight to eee the young itinkers crowd each other. The whole Iry, nrked surface of the grcuad was aised up on top of the sprouting plants, [t is our informant's opinion that the present generation of Injun? w.ll not nake puceessful grangers.? Hiwarck Dakota) Tribune. Seventy gold m n*s are at work in j Georgia. Tue belt in which tin mines ire said to exi.it is expected to produce ,his year s?3,(KJ<i,00) wjnl) "f gold, .lood gold veins from S5 to $50 it on.