The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, July 19, 1882, Image 1
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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.