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BY HUGH WILSON AND H. T. WARDLAW. ABBEVILLE, S. C;. WEDNESDAY; AtJGUST 16, 1882. FO. 11. VOLUME XXVII.
After.
After the shower, the tranquil sun;
After the mow, the emerald leaves;
Stiver stars, when the day is done ;
Alter the harvest, golden sheaves.
After the clouds, the violet sk/;
After the storm, the lull of waves ;
Quiet woods, when the winds go by;
* After the battle, peaceful graves.
After tne knWl, tbe wedding bells;
After the bud, the radiant rose ;
Joyful greetings from sad farewells;
After our weeping, sweet repose.
After the burden, the blissful meed:
After the flight, the downy nest;
After the furrow, the waking seed;
After the shadowy river, rest.
?George Cooper.
ROCK CREEK CHURCH.
" It is the last girl I shall send to
Europe," said Mr. Brancepeth.
"Very likely," returned his wife,
*as it i? the only girl you have."
" She ha9 bccome thoroughly denationalized,"
continued the father.
" She thinks American soil only fit to
make mud on overshoes and American
men nothing but clod-hoppers. Her
bead is full of foreign notions, and
she'll marry notlr- ? but a title. She'll
have none of nr monej to carry to a
tide, let me tell her," said Mr. Brancepeth,
putting salt in his coffee.
Where she came by such folly I don't
know. There has never been anything
like it on my side of the house. Your
head, to be sure, was a little tu ned
xvbcn you first came to Washington,
and went to an executive dinner?"
"Mr. Brnncepcth!"
"Well, 1 must find fau't with somebody.
To havo your only daughter
oom? home a changeling, and not be
?bte to upbraid your wife about it,
would be bard. This is the most ?hocking
coffee!"
" Salt doesn't improve coffee." .
" Give mo a lieth cup. Wbat did you
sand Thomas out cf the room for?"
" Because 1 Lad something to say."
Not 0t for his ears. They are long
enough."'
- iou con v ieej 8 3 very oamy, 11 you
can be making jests."
" Sorry jetting," said Mr. Brancepeth.
"And when Jessie was such a fresh,
?a*ret, innccent beauty."
" She is u fresh, Bweet, innocent
beauty now," said her indignant mother.
"And she will come out all right, if
you only give her time. To go to
Europe, and spend a year in a foreign
fcaioisttr's famiJy, as she has done, retrying
the attention belonging to such
a position, and known to be an heiress?"
"Known to be an heiress. By
heaveDst -uho knowB her to be an
heirew? I don't. If she carries sail this
vnj, 1 won't leave her a penny."
"It's no use to talk so, father.
Everybody knows you are a rich man,
and she's your only child. And there's
no danger of any one marrying her for
money merely, when there's everything
to Jove in her."
'""What do IVese foreigners hanging
round her care for love? They think
of nothing but money, and let her
break htr t.eart afterward, for all they
will do to binder. It makes my blood
boil to look kt them? musicale here,
and cotillon there, and morning calls,
?nd (trolls, and sending the coach back
empty to walk home from church.
JKnw, Louisa, I tell you plainly she
must siop all this, or I'll take the whole
kit away from town, and move out on
the Colorado ranch, and stav there, and
you may tell ber so."
"Tell her yourself, father."
" I can't?you know I can't."
"As for your Colorado ranch, there
are as many foreigners in Colorado as
there are in Washington, And now do
be sensible, and listen to reason a moment.
You know Jessie will many
H somebody?"
V "1 kuowjepsie will marry somebody?"
roared her father. "How do I know
it? 1 <Aon't know it. No other man
shall ever lord it over my child the
way*?the way?"
*'Tbe way you have lorded it over
me."
Then Mr. Brancepeth laughed.
"Well, I have abused yon sometimes,
Louisa" he said.
11 Ob, don't flatter yourself," replied
hia wife ; " I have been a match for you.
eo will Jessie be for as good a man,
if you don't marry her to a foreigner by
forbidding it."
"Do you mean to say, Louisa?"
"Yes, I mean to say. And now if
you will listen to reason, as I spoke of
your doing?"
Mr. Brancepeth threw himself back
in bia chair with an air of desperation,
-ar.w can I help listening," said he,
Mf you will talk? Although as for the |
reason- "
" And I will talk. Do you remember
young Paul Despard, who came here for
you to get his appointment in the trt asurj
?"
'Of course. Why phouidn't I?
People don't forget their friends' children
in a day. Acd I should never
hare been senator of the United States
if Paul Deepard's father had not stood
roy friend. Besides, hasn't be been
hero repeatedly f"
"Well, then, you lemember that
when he had been here six months, and
seen what life in office was, and what it
led to?"
*'Ytncfn ft men'j cnnl rvnfl"
" ? He went through tue law school,
threw op his office without any ado, and
vent West to practice law?"
"Well, well, I don't know that I've
the time or interest to follow that young
man's career along this morning. What
of it?"
" This of it. He came back a month
or two since to try a case before the supreme
court, and is likely to be here
f~r some time still, I suppose."
' And you want to ask him here to
9ta.> ? That is all right. Insist upon it.
Bnt to retnrn to Jessie."
'Dear! dear! dear! was there ever
anvthinc so stnnid as ft man V Vn? aa
i was going to say, Paul Despard is a
rising man ; he has become a leading
lawyer, the soul of honor, noble, generous,
tender an# trne. I've seen a good
deal of him?"
" 80 I should jndge," said her husband,
dryly. "Oh, go on ! Heap it up,
and don't mind me. A senator of the
United States, with three committees
and sub-committees waiting, has nothing
else to do than to bear his wife
paint the exoellencies of the first young
man?"
" My dear, are yon losing yonr mind?"
said Mrs. Brancepeth, with dignity. "If
you have no respect for yourself, have
some for my gray hairs." And she arranged
the pretty silver love-locks on
her 6hite forehead, that made snch a
contract with the infantile rose of her
oomplexion and the dewy brightness o
her eyes that people looked twice to see
if they were mistaken in supposing her
either an elderly lady or a you j * girl.
Her husband gazed at her muob as ahe
did twenty-five years ago.
"To resume," said he. "This 1 t-rfect
young fcan?"
"Is here. And is as much in ove
with Jessie?"
"In love with Jessie!" cried Mr
Brancepeth, starting to his feet. ' Paul
Despard in love with Jessie ! The impudent?"
"That's right, dear. That's exactly
what I want you to do. Keep that up,
and don't falter, if you love her yourself.
Don't you pretend to consider for
one moment that he is honest, virtuous,
well-born, the son of a good husband, a
man of intellect and promise?"
"For heaven's sake, Louisa, what is
* the end of all this?"
"I am urging you to oppose Paul
Deepard's suit for Jessie's hand, which
he half confided to me. A6 for-me, I
encourage Jessie in no such nonsense.
I am bound that she shall marry Prinoe
Vinca, of the Aretine legation."
" Hang the Aretine legation! What
do we want of foreign legations at all ?
Commercial agents would do all the
business America has with foreign countries,
and rid us of this pest of lounging
rascals preying on our daughters.
"Veryabsurd in 70U, Mr. Brancepeth.
Prinoe Vinoa is a gentleman to
the tips of his fingers. Ton might know
that by the way he followed Hfilen
Manser horre, and into tho V'el'y vestibule,
the otbor twilight, when he had
navoi* Itati V-*<-?f wrt Ixw iV*a ?mav( U/\
UVIW1 utuu UCi UCJVi U, VI UJ WttJ JUO
lay dcfrn along the floor at Mrs. Boteler's
ball, w'len he thought every one
worth while had gone down to the supper-room.
It is a noble pleasantry
which adds spice to society. As for the
aflair with Miss Long, I uon't know how
he could be cxpcoted to marry Miss
Long when she hadn't a penny and he
hadn't either. Miss Long needn't have
sat round the parks uhde'r the same umbrella
with him it she hadn't chosen.
Because his people at home live on
black bread and garlic in the ruined
aroh of an old castle, it doesn't follow
that Jessie will. She w ill bring the
revenue aDd he will bring the rank.
And just imagine, my dear, our Jessie a
prinoew of the old Roman empire 1"
"Is it possible," gasped Mr. Brance
peth?"is it possible that my wife is
talking this way ?"
"Why? Don't you think it a nice
way to talk ?"
"Nice? Are you quite be ide yourself
? 8hall I answer a fool according
to his folly?"
Mrs. Branoepeth leaned back in her
chair and laughed till the good man j
tnaQ In'it Ar>/^ n/> ?Aollw 1
noo uiiguivuvut uuu DU juu ivonj i
think it Billy 51 What do you suppose
Jes&ie will think, then ? Now, Mr.
Brancepeth, I never saw anybody whose !
perceptions were so Blow. Bat I hoped.j
I could briDg you to aee that if you !
oppose Bespard and I Urge Vmca, b j
what may be called a 'resolution o j
forces1 we may bring about what we do !
desire. She won't do what I want her I
to do, and she will do what you don't j
want her to do."
Mr. Brancepeth looked at his wife
with a gleam of intelligence at last.
" A pretty daughter you have, if that is
tho vaT tr? tint" Via priori ' A nrflHv ;
~ ?
way yon have brought up your daughter
I" And then he banged from tho
room like an angry hornet, leaving o)a
the table Prince Vinca's note asking for ,
an interview that evening, just as Miss ,
Jessie came dancing in like a joyous
butterfly, and of course found her!
mother wiping her eves with her handkerchief.
"Oh, what is it, mamma?" she cried.
"Yourfather," said Mrs. Brancepeth,
burying her face again in the cambric?
"your father?he?he is so indignant
to think of Paul Despard's presumption,
he threatens to bury us alive on the
Colorado ranch. He?he says I have
brought you up in a pretty way, and
he is?as mad as a March hare !"
" Or a hatter," said Miss Jessie.
"But that means midsummer madness,
not papa's tempers. I declare I tbink
papa might be satisfied with having
arranged his own marriage and let mine
alone.'*
'Ob, JessieI"
"Well, this isa free country, mamma, !
and I am a grown woman, and I shall
marry where I wish to, and shall not
marry where I don't wish to, papa to
the contrary notwithstanding." And
the naughty-tempered Miss Jessie
picked out her lace ruffles and smoothed
out her pink bows, and looked at her |
mother and laughed. "Would you, j
mamma?" said she.
"I don't know, Jessie," said Mrs. j
Branoepeth, wiping her eyes so vigor-1
ously that they looked as if tears had
been there. "You know I am old-fash- |
ioned. I have beliefs, superstitions?I
don't know what. I shouldn't dare disobey
a parent in such a serious matter, i
and expect anything but disaster to '
overtake me. And here?I can't say?
perhaps your father is right. He knows i
Panl is onlv makinc liis wry.
and Prince Vinca?"
"Well, what of Prince Vincar" 6aid the i
impatient beauty. i
"Well, he's a prince to be^in with." i
"Yee, I know that," said Jessie, more
quietly. "And I don't pretend to eay, i
mamma, that the thought of being a
princess hasn't attractions. But that <
man?that man, mamma?he hasn't any
attractions."
"Prince Vinca!" said her mother, h
'Way , J m astonianed, Jessie. He looks ::
ike a Roman emperor."
"Yes, jast like one of those old
beasts that exhausted the empire for 11
their pleasures. And I should be one ':
of the things led captive in his triumph"
"Or he in yours."
"Ireally believe, mamma, you want j,
me to sell myself for a title."
"I want you to be happy, Jessie,"!
flaid Mrs. Brancepeth, with dignity.
" If Paul DeBpard were only a prince 1
in the Aretine legation?"
"Dear me, Jessie, why will you mea-1
tion Paul Despard's name when you
know your father would cut you off with
a shilling?"
"Paul Despard would be glad of me
without a penny to my name," paid j
Jessie.
"Wouldn't Prince Yinca?"
"iteajiy, mamma, 1 don't? Deneve?
he would. With all his gasconade
about adoration, I don't believe he
would.''
" Are you certain, Jessie?" said the
diplomatio lady, who was gradually
working things in the cirection you
wished. "You don't mean that she 1
think he is trying to marry you for j
your money? I should hate to have :
people say you had bought him."
"People will say that anyway. It'
isn't in human nature not to say spiteful j
things That is the claw of the original j
wild beast in us."
"By the way, Jessie," eaid her
mother, "1 have an appointment with
Mrs. Lecpinards at 1, and I wish you
would order your phaeton and drive
down to the greenhouse. Durkee has I
gone to market, and Mrs. Bunoe says
we haven't half enough flowers for din
uci? auu uci iiiubuui. oai iuiuaiu^ vi
the lovely picture it would be when
the child should come driving back in
all her snowy laces and muslins, her
hat wreathed with its apple blossoms,
and the carriage heaped with the hothoase
flowers.
But Miss Jessie did not come home
that way. I might, indeed, eay that
Mies Jeesie never came home at all, but
that wonld hardly be the exact statement.
As she drove down the avenne, taking
back the flowers, and making all
the beautiful picture her mother's
fancy had drawn, and morn, Miss Jessie
descried, some way before her, a tall
fignre with a book under the left arm.
She was not ready for any definite parley,
and shook her reins loose, and took
the detour of a square, to came upon
him face to face on the other and narrower
street. "Are there two of you?'*
she cried, before she thought; and then
she had unavoidably drawn up to the
sidewalk. " Isn't this royal summer?'*
she said. "There is something delicious
about this heat."
"When you are not on foot," said
Paul Despard, with the full look of a
pair of brilliant hazel eyes at the lovely
object half bnried in flowers.
"To be sure. And the place is so
full I cannot ask you to drive. Could
you find a spot under all this blocm ?"
" Could 1 find a spot in paradise ?"
And the young man had presently found
it, and had taken the reins and turned
the horse's heads about.
"Why, what are you doing? where
are you going ?" she exclaimed.
"Baok to the greenhouse to send all
this fragrant truck up by messenger.
And then into the air. I have won my
case and*must get out upon the open
somewhere.''
" You have won jour case 1"
"Yes, one of them. The other I
shall know about before long."
" I didn't know you had two of them.
In the supreme coort ?"
"One of them. And one in Ihesupremest
oourt of all."
" There is no understanding legal
lore. Some States have judges and
jastices, and others have chancellors
and surrogates. And there are courts
of equity and admiralty, and superior
courts and supreme courts, but 1 never
heard of this one?"
"Yet you are the jury who will bring
in the verdict, the judge who may perhaps
draw on the black cap?"
"Why don't you say executioner and
all? I can't have you talking so absurdly."
" It makes^a man',talk?absnrdlj? '
"To be driving down Fourteenth
street and out on the Rock Creek road
on a summer morning ? Do you know,
I think Washington is more delightful
in summer than in the height of the
i gay season. 1 am always rattier Riaa
| when papa is kept here by the long
j session Hot, to be sure?New Orleans
| is a good deal cooler- but one feeis
j alive in euch heat. I like it, and fancy
11 might grow a sotll in it; as a Sower
J expands?''
"And you are not talking absurdly
now ?"
"No, indeed. Three months ago I
hadn't any soul ; three weeks ago 1 was
just beginning to be conscious of one ; I
to-day?"
" Well, to day V"
"Oh, what magnificent woods! To
think of such forest glades no near a
great city I Just look down that dellit
is dark and dewy still. Oh, see the
checkered sunshine on the turf I Why
afe yoti stopping here? fitit it is too
lovely to go on.''
" I am stopping here for you to get
through talking against time," said her
companion. "Do you suppose I came
out here to exclaim over the be&uties of
nature ? I knoW the place is beautiful;
f fpel it in th? nnrA nf mv hflinff. Nn
one can take the sense of it away from
toe. Bat"?as the flash moanted her
darK cheek?'-I have something infinitely
more beautiful and previous
beside me, and it is _ perhaps in the
power of some one I despise to take
that away from me irrevocably. No; it
is my tnvn now. and you must listen to
me. Just n.w I have the advantage of
all the world; I am beside you, I hear
i our voice, I feel your presence, and I
hesitate to break the spell. Yet I must;
for to morrow, perhaps, Prince Vinca
may ask you to be his wife; to day. I
demand that you shall become mine."
Then toere was siierice. There was
the sunshine checkering the turf, the
stream Warbling below, the leaves murmuring
above, the birds replying to one
another in broken phrases of song.
And there was a whirl of broken
thoughts sweeping through the young
girl's brain and taking possession of
her. The diadem of ft princess, the
plain black silk of a lawyer's wife, the
cheerless palace, the cottage with its
wild-rose hedtres. and love. love. love.
Why should papa want her to leave him
for that fortune-hunting attache? That,
if ehe understood her mother?and of
conrse she did?was all that his opposition
to Panl Deepard meant. And
mamma trying to uphold him, thinking
more of a title won by some old robber,
centuries since, than of happiness today
! She would let them know she was
not to be driven like kittle cattle. She
should think, at any rate, that one's
mother would sympathize with youth,
and hope, and?she turned and looked
calmly and gravely at Despaid, waiting
and surveying her, and the color flashed
all over her face, and the tears were
ready to sparkle on the tips of her long
lashes, as she finished the sentence in
her mind?and love.
" Are yon going to stay here all day ?"
she asked presently, without looking
up.
"Till I have an answer to?"
Your demand. Don't you think
that is rather au autocratical beginning
I"
'"Low suing
May bring wooing
Into ita own undoing,'"
eaid Despard.
"Did I understand," she said, demurely,
then, " that you demand I
should become your wife today? Won't
to-morrow do?''
" I was not bold enough to dream of
Rnoh a rantnrons uossibilitv." he eaid.
"But I was unwise. To-morrow will
not do. Ton remember the little brown
chapel, Rock Greek church, out here
a mile or two? You shall give me your
answer there."
u Do you really think it will be best?"
she said. "Are you willing to take a
wife who, if Prince Vinca bad positively
asked her first, might have been his
wife instead of yours ?"
As for the remainder of the drive
that morning, from this delicious resting
spot to the little brown chapel,
where the minister happened to be at
the door with a throng of pickaninnies
at his heels, it may be best for us to
remember that there are times and
places where "two are oompany and .
three are none."
So you see after all- it wa3 not Miss
Jessie that returned to the Brancepeth
mansion that evening, where guests
were assembled, dinner waiting her arrival,
and her mother as vainly endeavoring
to conceal her anxiety as a bird
that twitters on the stem when her nestlings
are threatened. Mrs. Brancepeth
felt, and by no means vaguely, that
something was on hand, but what .she
knew not, although her keen woman's
wit cravA Vi?r Rnsnininns and hotifls:
Jessie not yet returned, but gone all
day; Paul Despard not yet arrived, but
invited to dinner; Mr Branoepeth still
detained in his private room downstairs
by a caller, Prince Yinca, as Durkee
whispered to her; dinner spoiling, and
Mrs. Branoepeth hot with rage in the
background; and possibly the prinoe
persuading her husband to his wishes as
expressed in that morning's note I It
was while she was in the worst of her
worrying, smiling now at the secretary's
jests, and trying not to smile at a foreign
minister's English, that the
daughter of the house was letting herself
in, and, with Paul Despard beside
her. was tannine? at her father's door.
He opened it himself, looking flushed
and angry.
"Papa," she said, "I can't waste any
time, you know, because I'm afraid
dinner's waiting, and you ought to be
upstairs too, you neglectful man ! Now,
papa dear, I knew you never would give
your consent, and so I have just taken
it without asking, and you must forgive
me and welcome me back, and him,too,"
said the breathless young woman, " for
I don't see why you shouldn't love me
just as much aa 'ever, just because he
loves me too."
"Jessie 1 What in the world are you
talking about ? Why should I forgive
you ? Wbat have you done?" cried her
bewildered father.
" Ohf I have married Paul Despard
this morning!"
Her father surveyed her one wild mo
mcnt as she stood there with her white
muslin and laces and apple blossoms
and blushes and coming tears, while he
rubbed hie hands through his hair till
it stood on end.
"Weill" he said. Then suddenly,
with a total change of expression:
11 You have saved me a great deal of
trouble. Here are dirmer and a dozen
guests waiting, and I have been writhing
my way like a bookworm through the
history and genealogy of the Virica
family since the dayB of the Pelasgi,
and afraid of an Aretine dagger if I refused
their alliance. Prince," he said,
turning on his guest behind the soreen,
" whatever my own wishes might have
been in the matter of which we have
been speaking, circumstances have
given you yonr answer. Permit me to
present Mr. Paul Despard, my son-inlaw.
I trust this turn of sffaii's may not
deprire us of the pleasure of your
friendship. Good-evening?good-evening."
" He has ordered the man to drive to
G street," cried Jessie, in a moment
after the door slammed. "I knew he
would. That Palmer girl's? Well,
she's welcome, and I dare say he will be
when ho arrives."
"Mrs. Despard," Baid her father,
"you must go up to dinner as you are.
I don't know what yonr mother will
say. As well as I could make out this
morning, she was bo bent on yonr marrying
this princeling that for my part I
am glad to be left off with Despard.
It's all highly improper, though, Jessie,"
he said, trying to subdue too broad a
smile?" improper and unfllial and?
and expensive; for if I only had an
other daughter, I should?"
?? Out me off with a"shilling ? You
know better, papa. You know I am
your only darling, and ' all of mine is
thine,' " she sang. " And besides, if
you did, I shouldn't mind, provided
\ou loved me just the same, for my
husband is a rising lawyer, who has just
won his second case. And now you
must come up and hide me from the
day of mamma's wrath. I guess you
had better tell her before all the people,
and then she can't soold."
Bat. I fanoy that when Mrs. Despard
caught tho glance of intelligence that
flashed between her mother'u eyes and
her husband's, a little anger intruded
on her joy, to thiok she had fulfilled,
without intending it, the command,
"Children, obey your parents."?Barper\i
Bazari
A Deed of Honor. |
Our little brave army on tbo plains d |
both an explorer of the wilderness an
a guardian of the frontier. In order to
uo its double work it requires the
aid of men who know both t e
country and the Indians. Some
of these guides, such as "Old Bridger,"
Kit Cairson, Wild Bill and Buffalo Bill,
have become famous.
One of the best and bravest of these
plains celebrities is Amos Ohapmctij
who has been a government scotit for
the last fifteen yeais. Eto is a eobei:,
quiut sort of a man, and so heroifc
that if he had lived in th<3 age of chivalry
every true knight would have
greeted Lim as a comrade. The lofty I
manhood of the man is shown by one of [
his desperate adventures, narrated in
Colorel Dodge's book on "Our Wild '
Indians."
r? * nrr t n 1
in io(4 ueuerai .unes, wmio uncrating
against the Indians, sent six men,
Chapman being one, with dispatches to
department headquarters. One morning
as the party was riding along every
man was wounded by a volley, and in an
instant the Indians appeared on every
side. Dismounting and abandoning
their horses the band moved to a ''buffalo
wallow," a shallow depression in
the prairie. By working hard and fast
the depression was so deepened as to
afford cover. One of the men, Smith,
bad fallen from his horse at the first fire
and was supposed to bo dead, fleeing
him move slightly, Chapman said;
?' Now, boys, keep those redskins off
me and I Will run down and pick up J
D " ? J Vvim Vvo nW fli AW I
OUllbliy UUU Ul 1U^ uiiu uciuiu uuvj
can get at me."
Laying down his rifle he sprang out
of the "wallow," ran with all speed to
Smith, seized ahd attempted to shoulder
him. " Did any of you ever try to
shoulder a wounded man?" asked ChapmaD,
when telling the story. "Smith
was not a large maD, one hundred and
sixty or seventy pounds, but I declare
to you that he seemed to weigh a ton.
Finally I laid down and got his chest
across my back and his arms around my
neck, and then got up with him. It was
as much as I could do to stagger under
him, for he couldn't help himself a bit.
By the time I had got twenty or
thirty yards about fifteen Indians came i
for me at the fall speed of their ponies, i
They all knew me, and yelled 'Amos I
Amos 1 we've goi you now!'
"I pulled my pistol, but I co ildn't
hold Smith i.n my back with one hand,
so I let him drop. The boys ia the J
'wallow' opened on the Indians just at
the right time, and I opened on them
with my pistol. There was a tumbling
of ponies and a scattering of Indians, ;
and in a minute they were gone. I got
Smith up auain and made the beet possible
time, bat before I could reach the
'wallow' another gang came for me. I
had only one or two shots in my pistol,
so I didn't stop to fight but ran for it. ,
When I was within twenty yards of the
'wallow,' a little old scoundrel that I i
had fed fifty times rode almost on me !
and fired. I fell with Smith on top of j,
me, but as I didn't feel pain, I thought
I had stepped in a hole. The Indians 1
couldn't stay around here a minute, the ;
boys iept it red hot; so I picked up \
Smith and got safe into the 'wallow.' !1
" 'Amos,' said Dixon, 'jon are badly i
hurt.'
" 'No, I am not," said I.
" 'Why, look at yoar leg.' j,
" Ana f.nr? enough, the leg was shot j
off jast above the ankle joint, and I had !
been walking on the bone dragging the j1
foot behind me. In the excitement X
never knew it, nor have I ever had any
pain in my leg to this day."
The surgeon at Camp Sapply nmputated
Chapman'j leg below the knee,
more than two weeks after the receipt of i
the wound. In a week thereafter I had '
to take away his clothing to keep him j
in bed. He is as still useful and as ,
ready to fight as any two-legged scout. 11
- i
Rewarding a Brave Fireman. {
Fireman Michael Commerford, of the :
New York fire department, was pre-!'
seated?at a fireman's parade and in j
presenoe of thousands of spectators in I <
Union square?with the Bennett medal
for courage displayed in discharge of j
his duty. The story of his brave deed ; (
is told as follows in the presentation j (
speech, made by Charles A Dana:
jnicnaei uommenora; xuii great,
throng of citizens and this assemblage ;
of the fire department are gathered here j
in recognition of a certain public service
rendered by you on the fourth day |
of January last. To you it is not neces- j'
sary to recall the natnre of that service, !;
but it is suitable that this audience !
should be told what it was. On that,
day the tenement house standing in the j:
rear of No. 85 Madison street was on 1
nn/1 in nrva r\t lfcj nnnor rnnina TZ7ATA ' I
three children of Margaret Egaa.
The room was filled with smoke, 11
so that it was impossible to tee and al- .
most impossible to breathe in it. An J<
attempt ?i- made by one of yonr comrades
to save these ohildren, bnt the (
gallant fireman who nndertook this effort
was driven back by the stifling
smoke and the insupportable heat. !
Then a ladder was procured and placed i
across over the alley which separated
the house from the nearest building, so
that one end was in the room and the
other end in the building opposite, i
This ladder was not strong enough to j
bear much weight, but by lying down j
upon it you were able .to crawl along t
until your head and shoulders were in j
tho fated room. Stretching yourself
out from this ladder, and extending j
forth your hands in the darkness, you !
first found William Egan, a boy of six
years, already insensible, and
passed him out over the ladder,
so that he was recovered and
brought away in safety. Then, venturing
in again, you were enabled to lay j
hold of John Egan, a boy of three
years, likewise insensible, whom you j
also rescued. For this heroic and'
humane deed I am directed to present j
to you this medal. It is a most beauti-1
ful and honorable token, and you and \
your friends may well be proud of it.
It shows that at a critical moment,
when the highest courage was called
for?the courage to risk your own life
for the sake of others?you performed
that supreme duty with coolness, perseverance
and success, It is a great
thing when a man possesses the moral
energy and the power to seize upon
such an opportunity. It is a great
thing, not merely for the hero himself,
but for his friends, for tho community,
for the whole people who can
gather inspiration and support from
such actions.
" It is proper to say here that I take
a peculiar pleasure iu being for this
purpose the organ of the authorities
who conferthis medal upon you. It is
derived from a foundation of the late
Mr. James Girdon Bennett, one of the
moBt remarkable and original journalists
who have appeared in rcoent times.
Ho was a man who, amid every temptation
and every difficulty, knew above
all things else how to maintain those
precious treasures of the mind, ontire
independence of opinion and entire
freedom of utterance. It adds to the
value of this medai that it thus in some
sort represents those great qualities.
"You are the seventeenth member
of the fire department to whom Mr.
Bennett's medal has been given. I congratulate
you, Michael Commerford,
upon the addition of your nam-? to a list
so noble and so certain to be long preserved
in the memory of men; .and I
am sure that, whenever the occasion
arises, there will always be foun J among
the firemen of New York men of heroism
and of devotion who will emulate
the lofty and affecting example set by
you and by the other possessors of the
Bennett medal.-'
When the speaker, who was interrupted
several times by applause, concluded
the address, he presented the
badge to Commerford, who nervously
pinned it over his left breast, bowed
and, amid prolonged cheering, made
his way back to the ranks to becomo
I simply one brave man among many.
LADIES' .DEPARTMENT,
Garibaldi's Mother.
The chamber i i which were laid oat
the remains of Guibaldi was filled with
flowers, but othe rwise presented an ap
pearance of great simplioity. His bod)
rested on a narrow iron bed) with the
head propped up with.pillows, and faced
i window that looked seaward. There
"W?n fVirt fnAA on AWtHABQ inn /\l
yyao auuuv unci iauo au oApoooiwu
calmness, but the hands were those of a
mere skeleton. On the wall above h:is
head hnng a portrait of his mother, an
aged woman wrapped in a crimson
6hawl, with a oonntenance at once sweet
and noble. Garibaldi's veneration fot
her was something ont of the common.
He felt remorse at having been a sonrce
of afciiety to her in his adtenturdns
life) and belieVed that het prayers hftd
saved him ffom. iil-tJonsequenoes following
his temerity on the field of battle
and in storms at sea. Me ascribed
his own tenderness for those who were
in trouble and oppi-esned to her example.
Woman In the Saddle.
Th<> lady should so sit upon the horse
that tier weight will fall perpendicularly
i._ iL- 1 1- -M iL. U- 1 / ,3 *
io lut uaun ui iut) uurse, uer mueuu wir
ly to the front, her shoulders drawn
back, and het elbows held to her rides.
She will permit her body, from the hips
upward, to bend with the notions of
the horse, in order that she may preserve
her balanoe. The reins are to be
held in the manner prescribed for men,
the hand in front of the body, and in a
line with the elbow. The whip is to be
carried in the right hand, with the
point toward the ground. The horse
Bhould never be struck with the whip
upon the head, neok or shoulder. To
apply the whip upon those parts will
teach him to swerve, and render him
nervous at the emotions of the rider, In
a lady's hand the whip Bimply takes the
place of a spur for tha'right side. The
hornfi of the saddle, the superfluous one
at the right being dispensed with,
should bo of such length and curvatures
as will suit the rider. The right
leg will hold the upright horn close
in the bend in the knee, by such a
prensure as the action of the horse or
other circumstances vrill dictate. The
left foot will be thrust into the stirrup
to the ball of the foot, and the heel
will, as a rule, be carried down; but
when the heel is elevated the upper part
of the left knee should find support in
the side horn, and for that end the
stfrrnp-leather will be given such a
length as will permit this. By the
grasp given by the elevation of the left
knee from the stirrup and the embrace
upen the upright horn by the right leg
the iider will have as stivug a seat as
her strength can afford, and with a
proper balance uhe will not be likely to
find a horse that will unseat her.
Fuanlon Note*.
Ameiioan pongees are much worn.
Alpacas and mobairs ore looking np.
Gold brooade will again be in vogue.
Jerseys have returned to popular
favor.
New evening taffeta silks show chine
affects.
jEnthetio styles seem to be gaining
ground.
Velvet is used for trimming taffeta
silk dresses.
Now are the days for wearing mitts
iniitead o 1 gloves.
Embroidered crepe is among the p<
elties for mourning dress.
Pink cambric dresses trimmed with
lace are very fashionable.
New French oapote bonnets are covw-Ult
tttV* if a filz-lon tllnaonmo
Dl DU nibU nuivu umu* U4VWVMI?I
A now and very handsome shade of
cardinal is much used for children's
dresses.
Checked taffeta silks, iu delicate
tones of gray, blue and purple, are
much worn.
Several colors producing the effect of
a mixture appear in many of the summer
taffeta?.
Clusters of large BtraWberries on a
oream ground is one of the latest designs
for painted muslin.
Tailor out jaokets either like cr un>
like the skirt are the most frequent
corsages of walking suits.
Incoming fabrics for fall wear are
enriched With delicate metallio threads,
forming mixtures, dots and stars.
Linings for the handsomest silk and
chenille mantles aro of satin, in old
gold, pale bine and terra cotta shades.
Tarkish staffs of gauzy textnre looking
as faded as possible are ont into
bits to aid in decorating fashionable
bonnets.
Cream white and gray ficelle lace
combinations appear to be the favorites
for neck lingerie and also for dress
trimmings.
It iB at the most fashionable seaside
resorts that the gayest dresses of veiling,
silk, velvet and embroidered and bro
caaea siuas are seen.
A large proportion of the ball dresses
aeen at Sua toga thin summer are of
tulle or some soft gauey stuff with
chenille dotii on the surface.
The costliest costumes are invariably
combinations of two or more materials,
with lace, embroidery and > ther trimmings
thrown in ad libitum.
Almond tinted cashmere, adorned
with embroideries of red carnations and
ox-eyed daisies, forms one of a number
of elegant French tea gowns jcist if
ported.
Large square neckerchiefs of fine silk
muslin, wrought in delicate sprays cf
apple and hawthorn blossoms, small
blush roses or trailing vines of honeysuckle
blossoms, are worn over sprigged
or white muslin dresses with charming
effeot.
Bridal dresses are again being made
of white gros-grain and repped silk
mi -i-i i-i?
-LLitry uiu eiuuufaicij iiiiumou wnu
elegant white silk embroidery and lace,
and the regulation orange bloBeom is
now mingled with white roses, geraniams
and lilies.
SCIENTIFIC NOTES.
The only animal now in existence
having a hand similar to that of the fossil
flving-reptile, the pterodactyl, is the
bat.
Skins of the prairie dog, an animal so
abundant in Texas as to be a nusiance,
are recommended as a material for the
manufacture of gloves.
Lunar rainbows are occaaionally
seen, but as the light forming them is
borrowed from the sun, they present
the same features as do solar ones.
The white, ehagffy hoise of the elevated
plains of Pamir, in Central Asia,
is by some regarded as the original
stock of the many existing species.
Milnes' tremor indicators, for the
purpose of estimating the amount of
motion in a mass, are so sensitive that
they record a movement of 1-10,000 of
an inch.
According to the report of the Paris
electrical exhibition judges, the greatest
efficiency of incandescent electric
lamps cannot be assumed to be more
than 300 candle lights for eaoh horsepower
of current.
Straps made from various materials
have been tested by Herr Weinlig, who
finds that the straps of Russian hemp
are about ten per cent, stronger that
those of Italian hemp, and twice as
strong as those of cotton.
A rail for common roads has been introduced
in France. It is imbedded in
concrete and is flush at the edges with
the roadway. From the Bides it slopes
down to the center, so as to enable the
wheels of vehioles to retain their plaoe
apon it. The estimated cost is about
two dollars a yard.
Planters in Jamaica, encouraged fry
the sucoeBB of the experiments oondncted
at the Botanical gardens, Kingston,
have in a measure ceased to devote theii
wholo energies to the production of
sugar. They have now begun to intro^
duce ahinchona with great profit, and
they have lately done much to make
vanilla, cocoa and other indigenom
plants of commercial value. Besides
oranges, bananas, pine-apples, limes,
mangoes and other fruits, grapes ar<
now grown for export.
WITTY "BIIL" TRAVERS.
AmcHlag Anecdote* of a Proralneut Ni
York Broker Who Stnttera.
I
Mr. William R Travers is a brok<
p banker, financier and capitalist. He
, really interested in the development
; the horse, and to his eilergetio effoi
i the establishment of the sport of nb'rt
or onf 11?
1(K>U1^ 1U IIUD HUi VU ^QIUIHUVUHIJ
, largely due These things would ha
given him a prominence in the m
tropolis unquestionably, bnt the reput
tion and fame he enjoys are dne mo
to his wit and humor than to anythii
> else. This is all the more remarkab
since he neither writes nor mak
, speeches in public. His witticisms a
Usually made in private circles and f
currenoy muBt depend entirely upontl
circulation given them by the listen
or the viotim. His wit is kindly and b
hutaor inellow. Sometimes it stings, j
it is not malicious,though it often borde
on truth too closely to always be coi
fortable for the object of the barbt
words. Mr. Travers is a native of B
timore, and was a man grown and mi
ried before he left Maryland for tl
metropolis. Mr. Travers is now tone
ing closely upon sixty, though he bea
his years well. He is tall, slim an
wiry. Perhaps apOn seeirig him for tl
tlrst time the beholder would be su
nrif??d. for bv some absurd process i
reasoning which is never justified \
associate wit with shortness of statui
and humor with rotundity of persoi
However one needs but a glanceat M
Travers' face to. perceive the hum<
lurking in the lines of the mouth whiol
ever in repose, seems always on th
point of breaking into a laugh, thong
it rarely reaches it. His eyes ai
soft and kindly, withal sparklin
with that mischief which is Irrepressibl
Apart from his wit, Mr. Travers is
most interesting man, and his talk
graphic, incisive and epigrammatii
and over it all fanoifully plays h
humor, giving zest and point to all I
says. Because he has gfeat reputatio
for wit, humor and geniality it Will n<
do to assume that his mental qualitu
are summed up with that statement. E
is a strong, wise and able man, well-ix
formed and a thorough man of businei
and affairs He has an obstruction c
speech whioh has undoubtedly kept hii
off the platform, for other qualiti<
which he possesses would naturally lea
him there but for this stammer. Ye
so far from its being an affliction, in th
senee of its being a bore and annoyanc
to others, it seems to sharpen the poii
01 niS WIG ana 10 giva iu uia uaj
tags. In fact, much of the spice woul
be losi if the stammer were gone.
Anything and anybody falls subjei
to his wit and he does not spare hiraae
of his stammer. Shortly after he ha
removed from Baltimore to New Jfoi
city he met npon Broadway an ol
friend from the former city of his res
dence. They were glad to meet eac
other, and fell into an easy cha
Daring the course of the conversatio
his friend said:
" Why, Bill, you stammer more sine
yon have lived in New York?more tha
you did in Baltimore."
" B-b?bigger place," replied Traver
This delightfully illogical reason su
flced as an explanation.
tJpon settling in New York he beoatr
a member of the stock eJtchangi
During the call of the list he essaye
to bid upon one of the atooks and s
the name time another broker bid tb
same price. A dispute followed as t
whom it should be awarded. His oppc
nent set ud the claim that he ha
named the price first. To this M
Travers replied:
"It m-may be-be, Mr. Ppresiden
that M-mr. Jones g-Rot through b*b<
fore I d-did, b-but I'll b-be hang id if
d didn't b-begin b before he d'did."
Amid the roar of the exchanger th
stock was awarded to him.
But Travers does not always com9 o
first in his encounters. One day, aft<
the close of the board, he was Roin
uptown with several brokers. Whe
opposite old St. Paul's he saw a ma
offering for sale a number of parrots.
"H-hold, b boys,'* he said to h
companions, "we'll have same f-faa.'
Then addressing tho man and pointin
to one of the parrots, he asked i " 0 ca
that pparrot t talk ?"
" Talkf replied the man, in tones (
graafc contempt. "If he can't tal
better than you can I'll wring his blatt
neck."
"O-ome on, boys. The fan is p po
p-poned until until another d-day," sai
Travers. And later, as his companiot
were still roaring, he said: " There's r
no n-necessity of saying anjthing al
about this to "the b-boys, and I'll pay f<
the b-bottle."
Some time ago a young man made
considerable sum of money in Wa
street under Mr. Travers' advice "Whe
the money was turned over, the brok<
told him that he would be very foolis
if he ventured his gains again and a<
vised him not to imagine that he ha
solved the problem of success in Wa
street but to safely invest his mone;
reserving a part to purchase a home f<
his family. The advice wa? follwe
and Travers assisted in the selection i
the house, Some time after the yonn
man was settled he met Travers and ws
asked how the house suited.
"The house Is all right, Mr. Tri
v/rrvl rr H Rnf. T fllTI VA1
vciOj wan uud m. m-> > v
much troubled with rats."
" G-geta o cat," stuttered Travors.
" I've had a dozen, but the ra
uctunlly drive them out of the houre
'' G-get a d- dog,'' urged Travere. 1
know where you ccan g-get a g goc
d dog. Harry Jennings is m-my frier
and he won't cheat you. I'll g go wil
you "
So thay set out together, aud read
ing the dog fancier's place, examine
the dogs for sale and one was selectei
Harry then put a dozen rats or more :
the pit and the dog was thrown in
-i i Uo, Will fVior
HUUW UUtt IIUIUMY UD uuuiu am >hv>
The d og did dispatch them, one aft
the'other, until only one was left. I
was aD old gray beard?nearly as larj
as the dog. As the terrier made for it,
sat npon its hannches and caught the d(
by the lower lip instead of being caugl
by the dog. The terrier yelped an
ran about the pit shaking and tremblin
but Mr. Rat held on firmly, terrifyii
the dog out of all hid canine senses.
Traverses running around the p
in great excitement, and finally shouts
out:
" B b-buy the?b-b-buy the r-rat!"
" Larry" Jerome is celebrated as
story-teller in New York circles. H
presence is always welcome, for tie hi
always a cood story to tell, a fresh or
and he rarely repeats himself. F<
this reason he is always considered
good addition to every oircle. Oi
' day he had been entertaining a fe
friends at the Manhattan clal), whe tl
clique was joined by Travers. After
while ''Larry'' exclaimed :
" Oh, Bill, by George I've got a ne
story. Something entirely fresh ! I
tell it to you if you'll listen."
"All right," said Travers, with an a
and tone of great bravery and couragi
Til stay if the r-rest will."
The story was never told, but Jeron
paid for the wine amid the laughter
his friends.
There is a gentleman, who is a ge
tleman in the sense that he is a man
1 mild and gentle manners, always court
ous and polite, but he has the wea
ness of philosophizing on the commoi
places of life.
Standing at the club window wi'
Travers a short time ago, he pointed
i a man upon the opposite side of tl
l street and said:
i " The coincidences of life are sing
i lar and frequent. Occult influeno
i draw men together and into juxtapi
. sition, when they are not acquainted
all, have no knowledge of each other
110 connection. What is there betwei
that man and myself? I don't knc
him, his business or his ends ? Yet
I have met him once this week I ha
met him a dozen times. If I have m
him onoe to-day I have met him fo1
times indifferent parts of the city, ai
now I gaze out of the window und e
him again."
"Pp-perhaps he's a d-d-detectiv<
practically observed Travers.
) The disgusted philosopher sought i
freshmen* from the steward.
The Ocean Pilot,
A pilot is a man who has made himself
thoroughly acquainted with certain
waters where navigation is dangerous.
}r and who directs vessels in safety
jg through those bad places. A ship captain
may understand perfectly the
^ proper course from one continent to
|e_ another and how to handle hia vessel in
tbe open sea, btit he is not expeeted to
ve know every rook and sand bar tirottching
0. under the treacherous waves, .and all
^ the twistings and obstructions of the
narrow entrance into a foreign harbor.
re a. 1 ^11
,p, JLUUCCU, mc Liuvai rc^uiatiuuo wn uut
Iq permit captains to act, though they may
e8 think they know the channel, since if
re an accident happens when there is no
or pilot on board" the insurance money
^ will not be paid.
er Pilot?, then, are important men, and
tj8 they know it so Well that they chaTge
et fery high prices for their services (genra
erally rated according to the draft of
ni the vessel), and admit few young men
5(j to their ranks to be trained.
al Their method of work is very excitir
ing. A dozen or so together will form 1
ie the crew of a trim, stanch schooner, 1
jj. provisioned for a fortnight or more, :
wViinh flan nnfaail unvfliinir hnfc a ramrur
r8 M W " * vi*uw" 0
1(j yacht, and is built to ride safely through
ie the highest seas.
r. But these fine schooners and the
0f brave men they carry are rarely in port 1
7e Their time is spellt fbr in the offlng of '
re the harbor, cruising back and forth in
a wait for incoming ships, and the New
T' York pilots often ro two and three hunjj
drpd miles oat to sea. There are other
Ij( pilot-boats waiting, also, and the looke*
out at the reeling mast-head mnst keep
^ the very keenest watoh upon the b orizon.
[e Suddenly he catches sight of a white
? speck which his practiced eye tells him
* is a ship's top-gallants, or a blur upon
g the sky that advertises a steamer's apja
proach. The schooner's head is instantc
iy turned toward it, and all the canvas
jg is crowded on that she will bear, for
l0 away off at the right a second pilotQ
boat, bull down, is also seen to be
aiming at the same prize, and trying
jg hard to win. The man whose turn it is
[e to go on duty hurriep below and packs
.. the little valise whioh holds the few j
ja things he wants to take home, and the
crew's letters ; if it is a steamer which
m is lying there with slowly turning
}8 wheels and Bignals flying, he shaves
3 himnfllf and rmtfl on a clean white shirt:
t bat a common sailing vessel is not so <
honored. 1
,e The storm may be howling in the !
full force of winter's fnry, and the waves i
p. "rnnning monntains high," as we say, 1
4 bat the pilot mast get aboard by some 1
means. It takes roagh weather to i
,(. make it impossible for his mates to 1
If launch their yawl and row him to where I
d he can olamber up the stranger's side 1
with the aid of a friendly rope's end. i
fiat often this is oat of the question. <
j. Then a "whip" is rigged beyond the i
b end of a lee-yard arm, carrying a rope <
t drove through a snatch-block, and hav- i
lD ing a bowline at its end. The steamer I
slows her engines, or the ship heaves ]
, to, and the pilot-schooner, under per- 1
,e feet control, runs up under the lee of
the big ship, as near as she dares in the
gale. Then, just at the right instant, a j
man on the ship's yard hurls the rope, (
it ifl caught by the schooner, the pilot j
slips one leg through the bowling- <
nnnflQ on/1 a sflcnnH t.hfl
^ schooner has swept on and he is being
,(J hoisted up to the yard-arm, but generally
not in time to save himself a good
!e ducking in the combing of some big
0 roller.
^ Now the pilot is master?stands ahead
of the captain even?and his orders are
r" absolute law. He inspects the vessel
, to form his 6pinion of how she will be'
have, and then goes to the wheel or
stands where best he can give his orders
to the steersman and to the men in the
forechains who are heaving the lead. He
must never abandon his post, he must
^ never lose his control of the ship, or
make a mistake as to Its position in re!r
spect to the lee-shore, or fail to be equal
K I- ? Tf
fcU OYOtjr omci^ouujf, JLi It 10 tw uma
? and foggy and stormy to see, he must
feel, and if he cannot do this he most
. hate the faoulty of going right by in,f
tnition. To fail is to lose his reputation
if not his life. This is what is expected
8 of a pilot, and this is what they actually
do in a hundred cases, the full de.
tails of any one of which would make a
"L long and thrilling tale of adventurous
fighting for life,-*-Ernest Inaersolf. in
Wide Awahi.
sd
Saltan and Khedive.
18 The disturbances in Egypt bring into
l~ conspicuous view the peculiar relations
between the sultan of Turkey and the
)r Egyptian khedive.
For many oenturies Egypt wag a
a subjeot province of Turkey. It was
N ruled over by governors appointed by
!n the sultan. In 1811, however, Mehe3r
met Ali, who was at that time governor,
!P rose in revolt against the sultan's :
3* authority, and made himself master of I,
if Egypt.
11 Mehemet w&i thus the founder of the ,
f> dynasty r<hich now reigns at Cairo. The
pwaent khedive, Tewfik Pasha, is Me- J
,(* hemet's great-grandson. In 1842 the (
suit n recognised this new dynasty, (
'8 and decreed that the Egyptian throne j
18 should deadend in Mehemet's family (
according to the jaw of hereditary ,
a" succession in Turkey. Still, Egypt did (
7 not become wholly independent of the .
sultan's rulo. It continued to be aub-- j
ject to him, in so far as foreign affairs
~ and the army were concerned. The "Vi- <
ceroy of Egypt," as he was then called, ]
* could not send envoys to foreign ,
'4 courts, but was represented at them by |
the Turkish envoys. Nor could the I j
viceroy maintain a native army or navy
of his jwn. Egypt was garrisoned and
protected by Turkish troops. Egypt,
j* moreover, was obliged to pay a large
annual tribute to the sultan. Later on (
in larger liberties were conceded to Egypt
fco by its Turkish suzerain. In 1866 the
a- title of the Egyptian ruler was, by a
er firman of the sultan, changod ^rom
"Vififlrnv" I which meant simply the ,
?e sultan's representative in Egypt) to '
" Khedive-el-Misr," usually called
' Khedivo," whioh, in the Arabio tongue,
^ moans "King."
l<* At the same time Egypt was granted
8> the right to send envoys abroad and to
!g maintain a native army and navy. Bat
the tultan still remained the suzerain
(or imperial ruler) of Egypt; and an
annual tribute of $1,875,000 a year was
paid (and still continues to be paid)
into the sultan's treasury. This is
.a practically the relation which exists
ls today between the Bnltan and the
as khedive. The sultan still exercises a
16 kind of exterior control over Egypt;
5r and olaims the right to enter Egypt
8 and quell revolt, and to depose or sus16
tain the reigning khedive. Meanwhile
lW the interests of various European
10 powers - notably of England and France
a ?have had a singular and complex influence
on the destinies of Egypt; and
these two powers by a system called
" "Control," have been practically gov- .
erning Egypt, over the khedive's head,
lir for the past four or five years. England
0 insists on controlling Egyptian
policy by reason of the facts
1 that she holds a predominant
?* financial interest in the great Suez
canal; that that canal is the nearest
n' military way between Europe and the
?* British empire of India; and that eight
per cent of the mercantile tonnage
which passes annually through the canal
goes under the British flag. Besides,
Englishmen hold a large quantity of
the Egyptian bonded debt, and wish to
to protect the payment of its interest by
managing Egypt's financial affairs.
The interest of Prance in sharing the
a" English control in Egypt is two fold.
68 France, too, holds a large portion of
the Egyptian bonds. Besides this,
a^' France has recently undertaken to
or annex Tunis, a neighbor of Egypt, and
en a Mohammedan state ; and is anxious
to limit as fir as possible the sultan's
" influence in North Africa. Both Eng70
land and France have appealed to the
efc sultan to use his authority to put down
Arabi Bey's revolt, and have thus once
more acknowledged the sultan's ri^ht
ee to interfere in Eurypt. They both also
M wish to sustain Tewfik on the Egyptian
throne, for he has proved a willing instrument
in their hands, allowing their
r0 commissioners to praotically role the
oountry.?Youth's Companion*
FACtS AND COMMENTS
Captain 0. W. Williams, of the Uni'ed
States, army, has invented an apparatus
for establishing telegraphic communication
between railway trains moviDg on
the same line of road trom any point
and at any time. It is claimed that once
perfected the eyetem will prove an
effectual preventive of collisions, and
among railroad men as well as the people
at large wlli be hailed as a great
scientific triumph in the interest of human
life and safety.
The census returns of manufactures
in twenty cities give the following figures
in regard to the employment of
children in factories: Philadelphia, 14.850;
New York, 8,928; Cincinnati,
5 024; Chicago, 4,799; Baltimore, 4,111;
Brooklyn, 8,423; Boston, 1,228, Cleveland,
1,885; Detroit, 1,220; Newark,
2.596; Jersey City, 750; Pittsburg, 3,235;
Providence, 1,510; Milwaukee,
965; San Francisco, 1,081; St. Louis,
2 942; Washington, 257; New Orleans,
552; Louisville, 1,025. This is a considerable
army of infantry growing up
in factories to be future citizens.
A report on agriculture in Italy by
Secretary of Legation Beauclerk has
lately been presented to the British
parliament. Beal agricultural progress
has been made in some parts of the
jountry, but a sad amount of misery
exists among the rural laborers. The
land is burdened with an overpowering
taxation, and, while the main remedy
talked of is education, the demands are
for relief from moral and physical suffering.
"Knowledge without means,"
says Mr. Beauolerk, "is of little use.
When the great mass of land owners
have hardly enough to live on, how can
bhey lay out money in improvements ?
For small proprietors and renters it is
imnonsihlft. while them are few larcre
estates, and even these are gradually
being split np by the abolition of entail
ind the constant subdivision of property
jonsequent thereupon.
Leonard Henkle, of Bochester, who
conceived the scheme of supplying
Dlectrio light from Niagara Falls, has
published a tabular statement of the
rank, population, number and cost of
publio lights, and yearly cost of domestic
lights, for the sixty-five principal
sities of the country. New Orleans,
with a census population of 216.000, has
3,622 gas lamps, which cost $63,943.20,
ind 1,574 kerosene lamps, costing $15,779.80?total,
$79,723 per year. Cleveland,
population 160,146, has 3,729
gas lamps, costing $71,084.05, and 1,265
kerosene lamps, costing $14,231 25 ?
total, $85,315.31, Pittsburg, population
156.389, has 1,315 gas lamps, costing
$22 865, and 2,200 kerosene lamps,
josting $37,158?total, $60,083. Washington,
D. O., population 147.293, has
1 OKfi rtna lomnfl nrtofinff ftlDA OKO Rnf
K,4U\S\J gOD VVWVtug yAVU. M>/VI ui
falo, census population 155.134, has
>,253 gas lamps, costing $148,559 90.
Electric lights have reduced the cost a
?ery little.
Not many people attaoh much current
interest to the Tonga islands, or think
)f them, save as having given a same
;o the perfume of snuff. Yet King
Gteorge, monarch of the 150 islets
ind their 25,000 inhabitants, is second
:o nono in royal dignity. He has a
parliament, containing a treasury
bench and an opposition, and in 1870,
when the Franco-German war broke,
rot, he issued a solemn proclamation of
"strict neutrality." His son, David
CJnga, is equally ambitious, and aspires
bo nothing less than a marriage with
some royal princess enrolled in the Almanach
de Gotha. But royal sire and
royal son together do not surpass in
splendor one of their own subordinates,
the governor of Varari, who sways delegated
authority over some 2,000 persons.
He lives in a gorgeous palace,
has his table furnished with gold and
silver plate, is attended by liveried retainers,
and wears a resplendent court
costume that cost $1,000.
The census statistics relating to
American fisheries are interesting read*
ing. These figures show fisheries to
have been worth in the value of products
the very handsome sum of $45,300,000
in the year 1880. This was the
price, moreover, that was paid* to the
producers simply. At wholesale prices
the pecuniary return for the same prodacts
reached the neat little fortune of
;90,000,000. The products included
3ried cod and pollock, smoked herring,
balibut and mullet, pickled and spiced
fish, salt mackerel, canned salmon, lobsters,
clams, oysters, crabs, [shrimps,
sod and sardines. The consumption of
these is constantly increasing abroad,
and teTy profitable sale for them has
i i?Mi i- n "ci_ j
Deeu UUUC up .'li rioglHuu, r ruiiue, uuu
Germany. As yet it appears, however,
the pickled fisli of American waters are
bnt seldom sent abroad, altbongh great
quantities of pickled fish are consumed
in Europe. It is recarded that 6ince
the Berlin exhibition of 1880 American
flsh have become populr on the continent,and
agencies for their sale have been
established in very many of the leading
oities of Europe. Another fact of interest
ia that the boneless American
codfish has been adopted as a standard
ktf trtonv raoimontfl f\t
CftrbiUAU VI AUUU %JJ u?wwj W
the German army. Proof of this growing
popularity of onr ilsh is afforded in
the statistics of exports to Europe. In
1889 the exports of fish reached only
5134,783, according to a local comraersial
journal. Last year there was shipped
abroad 81,902,100 worth of finery
goods. Of this amount $403,629 was
received from the exports of oj6ters to
England alone.
Although almost an infant compared
with the original States of the Union,
California must be accorded the van as
?n industrial. monev-making State.
Beginning its caieer by gold mining,
the development of silver-mining,
which soon followed, proved almost as
remunerative. Then wheat-raisiug became
a most flourishing industry, and
now we are told that the yield of the
vineyards and orchards promises to become
even moro important than the
cereal harvest. Nearly 10,000,00-') gallons
of wino aro produced in the State
annually. No trustworthy statistics
can be obtained as to the total quantity
of fruit grown, but the report says that
2,000,00) pounds of dried, 4,086,430
pounds of canned aud over 7,0^0,000
pounds of green fruit came eastward by
raii last year. These exports obtained
very remunerative prices, the grapes,
plume, pears, apricots anl peaches
being in especial request, and the California
cran'ge is also said to be cominp
into vogue. Only four or five years ego
the yrice of grapes on the spot ranges
from 88 to $9 per ton for ordinary sort,
to $15 or $20 lor tho choice varieties.
These f rices have already doubled, and,
as viniculture presents few difficulties
in California, thosa engaged in it are
reported to be making splendid profits.
Unfortunately, the phylloxera has made
its unwelcome appearance in several
places, and the California farmers may
possibly disoover, therefore, that
wheat-growing pays best, after all,
A Wealthy Sexton.
Probably the wealthiest sextou in
the world is the one who, every Sunday,
ushers to their seats the congregation
of St. James' chapel, Elberou, N.
J. He is a rather short, stout man,
with a round, full face, beaming with
contentment and benevolence. He
lives neir by in a $70,000 cottage, has a
bank account of several millions, and
is known to the world as G. W. Childs,
proprietor of the Philadelphia Public
Ledger. Never, it is said, has his obliging
courtesy to strangers failed, except
on a single occasion. A fussy old lady
wanted a front seat, and he gave her
one, close to the chanoel rail. Then
she wanted a prayer-book, and he
hunted up one for her. ,lWill you
pleaso hand me that fan?" was her
next request, pointing to one in an
adjoining pew, aud the aecommodatiug
usher complied. "Now, won't you
move that footstool for me?" But,
with patience exhausted, Mr. Childs
was half-way down the aisle, attending
to the wants of some less exacting
vi?itor#<
In Sanctuary.^
While pale with rago the wild aurf apriiiga
Athwart the harbor bar,
The safe ships fold their snowy wings
Beneath the evening star.
In this calm haven rocked to sleep
All night they swing and sway,
Till mantles o'er the lhorning deep
The golden blush of day.
Ilero, safe from all the slorms of fate,
From worldly rage and scorn,
Thus let mo fold my ha.nda and wait
The coming of the morn ;
While all night long o'er mooD-lit tart -
Tho wind bring* in from far
The moaning of the baffled surf
Athwart tbe harbor bar.
? William Winter, in Harper'*
HUMOR OF THE IUY.
A Philadelphia mnle has killed a mad
dog, but it is still a matter of doubt
whether a mule or a mad dog i? the
safest thing to have around.
" Confound it, you've shot the dog. I
thought you told ma you could hold a
gun." Pat?"Sure, and so I can, your
honor. It's the shot, sir, I couldn't
hotild."
Ssveet girl?"Is it wicked to sing that
song on Sundays ?" Brother Jack?
"Yes, it is wicked to sing it any day."
"Why?" Because it makes people
r
BWCttJ.
An Ohio man unpinned a tidy from a
obair asd wiped his nose upon it. It
takes an Ohio man to solve mysteries.
Now we know what a tidy is for.?New
Haven Register,
He: " My darling, I really believe my
rhenm-itism has wholly disappeared."
8he: " Ob, I'm so sorry I Now we
shall never know when the weathei is
going to change."
We are glad to learn by a late piece
of sheet music th.t "The Moonlight
Soft ia Falling." In these times of high
prioes it is giatifying to learn that even
moonlight is falling, .
A Pittsburg private watchman fell
from a second-story window while asleep,
and did not awake until somebody
stepped on him. Such zeal will certainly
be rewarded.?Free Press.
A toIia annaam Via tra
a. juu,ug mau ttuw op^/oiuo w uhtv
investigated tbe subject a9aerts with
every appearance of candor tbat hummocks
are always found under hammooks.
This is reliable if true.
We don't see why people should
think tbat women can't succeed in fishing,
They're quite equal lo flirting
with three fellows and telling eaoh one
stories to make him think that he alone
is loved.?Boston Post.
"Pause," said the highly cultivated
Boston girl to her lover, who was about
to kill a mosquito. "Pause: In the
balanced and admirably adapted economy
of nature man cannot interfere
without disarranging the whole order
of things." And he paused.? Boston
Advirtiser.
"But why did you leave her so
hastily ?" asked a sympathizing friend
who was trying to console a lover for
his separation from the object ot ms
idolatry. " Ob, it was a sadden impulse."
"What sort of an impulse?''
"I don't know exactly," retnrned the
snfferer, thonghtfall7, " but it must
have been at least a No. 12.''?Brooklyn
Euglg.
A * Trade" In Alexandria,
He bought a carpet in Alexandria, and \
the purchase took him three months. \
One morning, so runs Dr. Sullivan's \
narrative, he was passiag by one of the
bazaars where tapestries and snob things
are sold, when a particularly handsome
and rioh fabric caught his eye. He went
in, and, after pretending to look over a
lot of things whioh in reality he did
not want, he said to the man who solemnly
presided over this place, "And
what is the price of that carpet?''
"That," responded the dealer, "is
not for sale. I purchased that particular
c irpet at a great cost, to feast my
own eygh upon. It is magnificent?
superb. I could not part with that.
Mo, by Allah 1" or words to that effect.
"Will the English gentleman have a cup
of coffee?" The English gentleman
would. He wonld also have a cigarette.
After that he went away. In a day or
two he came around again, and once
more made the pretense of looking
through Macdallah's stock. He had
obviously failed to fool the ply Egyptian
before as to the article he really
wanted, so he touk more time to it upon
this occasion. As he expected, the
sedate owner of the bazaar finally approaohed
him.
' I have concluded, after several .
sleepless nights," said the merchant,
"to part with that carpet. It grieves
me very much to do so, for I have become
very fond of it. I had hoped that
it would be the light of my ejes in my
old ape. But the prophet has counseled
unselfishness among his people, and I \ ^
nrill noli tn fchfl Encrliah centleman."
"How muoh?"
" One hundred pounds."
" Nonsense. I'll give yon ?5."
The Egyptian's dignity was obviously
wonnded. An expression of absolute
pain crossed his face. Bat he forgave
Dr. Sullivan, and they bad another cup
of cc ffee and a cigarette together. Then
Dr. Sullivan went away, as before. In
a Week or so he dropped around again.
After going through the regular business
of looking over the stoat, ho waa
again approached by Macdalluh.
"I have concluded, after ranch
thought," said that worthy, "that I
asked you too much for the carpet the
other day. When Macdallah feels he is
in the wrong he is quick to acknowledge
it. The English gentleman can have
the beautiful carpet for ?90."
" Now you acknowleiga yonr error,"
replied Mr. Sallivan, "I will confess
that I was wrong in offering you only
?5 for your carpet the other day. 1 did
that in a joke, of course. I didn't mean
it. Bless you, no, and since you are
prepared to make concessions I will do
the same. Instead of ?3 I will give
you ?6."
iUUrU uukco 1u1u uuuiut! ... u.
The next timo Dr. Sullivan went
around the merchant took ont ?5 more
and the purchaser added ?1. So it
went on, with haggling and coffee until
Dr. Sullivan had finally agreed to
give ?12, at which price he took away
the carpet. It would Lave cost ?250 in
London. He eays that the kind of business
mentioned is considered the strictly
proper thhig in E-,ypt and Turkey.
Bnt Americans, lie adds, are spoiling
the trade in this direction.
While lie whs in Alexandria,
a gentleman named Morgan, from ?
New York, came along and visited the bazaar
of Macdallah. Three carpets
struck his fancy and ho pr:c9d them.
"Three fcnndred pounds," paid Macdallah.
* Well," replied Mr. Morgan,
"that seems a fair price, and 'I'll take
them. Here'fl your money." The next
time Dr. Sullivan saw the merchant he
wa^ almost tearing his hair with rage
against the " dog of a Christian." He
explained the matter in an injured tone
to the sympathizing Englishman, adding
that Mr. Morgan's method was not
'business."?Boston Htrald.
An Armless Horse Thief,
Dallas, Texas, has had a visit from
a singular character?Jack Hall, alias
No Arm Jack?en route to Stephensville
jail, from which institution the prisoner
escaped six months ago after receiving
a sentence of ten years in the penitentiary
for horse-stealing. Both his arms
are off abovo the elbow, having been
crushed in a sugar mill when ho was a
child, but the bones grow out several
inches from the flesh, and their snrfaces
are rough like corncobs, aud Jack
writes a beautiful hand by holding a
pen besido his chin and pressing the
protruding bone against it. He shoots
a pistol or firearms expertly, and manages
a horse as well as the average twohanded
man. The height of his ambition
appears to havo been stealing
horses successfully. He is about thirty
years of age. He was arrested in the
Ohoctaw Nation.
Mississippi has 427,Mi) children between
the ages of six and twenty years.
There are 76,187 more black* than
white*.