Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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waiting. They bave gone through life together, They have braved its stormy weather, Many a year; Time has fil- hed from beauty's treasur But love scorns the hoard he measures. With a leer. 'Mid the world's turmoil and fretting, They'd no tears, anl vain regretting For the past; All their troubles firmly breasting, They have found the time for resting Sweet, at la-.fc. There are graves upon the meadow? Baby forms that lie in shadow, Dark and still; Ah! they felt life's fountain drying Wheu they looked on baby, dying, But?"Thy will!" Now with pulses throbbing steady, Hand in hand, thev're waitine, ready: Not a sigh For the time that's swiftly fleeting, There will be a joyous meeting? By aud by. ?HoHis W. Field, in Detroit Free P, \ The Mysterious Lodger BY EMILY II. HOUGH. g"I don't like it! and the more I tl of it tlie worse it s: cms!" soliloqui Mrs. Benson, letting her sewing fall her lap for a moment. "I made up > ' mind that there was a mystery about from the first?and now that that brij dish i< oking youg feller has taken to iting him and"acting so queer, it's j ting really dang rous. That come being a lone widow woman with protector! I'm sure, when he came 1 bo pleasant and civil, and offered a g price for the ro:m, and didn't mini the accommodations weren't first clas could never have been expected to agine " A vigorous pull at the door-bell in rupte 1 the lady's musings; and jumj up aLl in a flutter, sue hurried out into hull. A tall, slender young man v Eiercing black eyes and long, wav air, and carrying a somewaat bu pap'r roll, stood before her. "jlr. Brown in? Don t trouble y< self to call him?I'll go right up." Jlrs. Benson fell helplessly back, the visitor mounted the stairs with j derous strides. A door above ope on/4 nri<1 nf+nr lioill otinrf irr, OUU aiJMVf iliiU Ulb^l ii v 'i I Ul-iu^ ill' lutelv in the hall for a moment, the la lady, in a state of increased perplex returned to her sewing. The subject of her interrupted solilo ?a prcpos essing young man of thirt; thereabouts, giving the name of Brow had engag.d a room in the house at two months before, as a lodger, tiin] His pay was prompt his hours and u ners unexceptionable, and his wants ?and the good lady's heart had qi warmed toward him. After a wh however, he fell into the habit of stay out late; when thev met incidentally the hall, or on the stairs, his passing lutionwore, to the widow's sensitive* - 1 4- J l.a ' ? mu eieiiicui ui ->lui y , uuu m.iuiijr, had been receiving frequent and ] traeted visits from the stranger she iust admitted. Once or twice she 1 tip-toed up-stairs after him, and liste at the door, but failing to catch; nytb intelligible, aud feaing detection, had been obliged to retreat uuenli" !>:. ened. 4'I can't consider it my duty to let i go on any longer!" she said at last, uming her meditations. "There's knowing what dreadful plot may hatched in my house. I might be Tested, too, as an ac-complice. It's i .1 thought of that closct?the good-] nothing villains! I'll circumvent '< jes, apd get a reward, perhaps, for 1 .nisliing the information." Inspired by these mingled ideas, > Uenson once more la d a-?ide her sew and stol: softly up-stairs. The room joining that of her lodger, containe hill If. iinrninst thn nn.'titinn \v v,v"v" -e t from whi n some of the plaster fallen leaving a small crack. Creej tautionsly in, Mrs. Benson got down her knees and applied her ear to the ^ Presently she heard Mr. Brown's vo ' Yes, that will do?leaves no ti for suspicion. Did you use poison?" j&V "Poison!" gasped the eavesdrop; ,4I thought he looked like a villain!" "No?I decided that the dagger better," was the reply. "What kind did you use?" que Brown, jocularly. "Oh, the regulation kind?Ital with a jeweled handle. I left it th ~?o as to implicate the lover, you see; t naa tne giri aDuuctea ana carried lonely house on t'. o moors. I hope feels comfortable- ha! ha! ha!'' "Merciful powers!"chok d Mrs. 1 son. "That's the girl they advertisec in yesterday's Herald! To think what ful characters I've been harboring abetting! It's just a miracle that alive to tell of it!" "Well," she heard next. "How al the will and jewels?" "They're iecu: ed. I'll make a divi to-morrow." "Not forgetting me, I hope!" lauq Brown. "And does that wind up plot?" "Not quite. I have one more set to develop." "Why what an insatiable fellow ar%! Is it another murder?'' "No; I want to secure an easy, ui picious body of middle age to act us tnna for the heiress. One with a s bank-accouat that I can withdraw i I have her safe, and then have it g out that she has moved into the com That diverts suspicion again, you se< "Yes, very clever! you are comins Moore! How will you manage ~ point?" "Oh, I'll come in a carriage wit invitation for her to spend the eve with so:ne friend; ilieu if she bec< lu-pieious and makes any trouble fix her with a little 'distille 1 sleep.' bound to have her, nolens volens." "First-rate! only don't make the to? big!" said Brown, with a bl curdling laugh. "I'.l look out for that; and?Itel what, Erown? ' "Well, what??don't keep a fel!o suspense!" "I've hit upon the middle aged pc ?your worthy landlady! Mrs. Benson's he irt stood still, did the wretch find out that she li little money? Breathlessly she list for Ihe next words. "Ha! ha! ha!" roared the lot "You'll blossom out int-> a firstbody-snatcher, Moore! Kcally, you credit to the profession! What w the poor woman think if she sLs chance to overhear us?" "I believe she considers me a s ciouB sort of character as it is, bj sidelong looks she casts at me every I call lately," said Moore. "But' gard that idea as a genuine stroke o spiration, Brown. I'll step in and a look at my victim before I go, and see if I can arrange with her for Mm. Benson could endure it no loi The only safety for her property o was to have these cold-blooded cons tors arrested without delay?before l? ft the house. Kising dizzily to I feet, she tottered from the room a softly c'osed the door. In her perti bation she failed to hear the door of t adjoining room open ut the same instai 83, The upper hall was narrow and dar , and plungiug forward toward the he of the stairs, she ran violently agaii something?h ard a stifled exclamation and found herself seized by a stroagpi of arm3. "Murder! murder!" shrieked the Ian lady, hysterically. "Hush, ma lam!" spoke the viiito vo'ce. 'We are only " "Oh. I know it ail!" gasped Lis stru gling captive. "Let me go?you asa; sinator, you distilled sleep.-r!?let me this moment, I tell you! Murder! thieves!?watch!?poli e!" She wrenched herself free in a If frantic effort to reach the stairs, and t impetus ca ried her fairly over the fii ; step. An instant she wavered on t edge, her arms flung wildly out in t attempt to regain her balance, and tli over she went, accompanying each rev lution with a most ear-splitting shric while the two men, with a bnr-t of mi v* gled consternation a id merriment, pr cipitat d themselves after her, althou< iu asomewl at more orderly fashion. Just as they reached the hall, and Mr Ben^o i had s.iccecded in picking herse . up, the street-do >r was burst open, and |1U** policeman's a tonished eyes took iu tl ized j scene. '1 ho landlady on one hand, h ^ in j face covered with perspiration and dus j and giving vent to shriek after shrii "1,n j with as much persistence and rspidity jan- j jjer breath would allow?and the co V1S" spirators on the other, scarce able to star in their excess of merriment, holdii 3 ?* j their h indt to their sides,convulsed \vi no j paroxysms of laughter. icre j '-What's the muss here?*' demandc i the public guardian. * 1II "Arrest tho^e two villains rig] ^ ! away!" sputtered Mrs. Benson, gaspii im" j for breath. "Arrest 'em?" echoed the officer, i fer- I jjr0Wn and Moore went off into anothi )U1? convulsion. "What for?" ??ie j "What for j" sobbed the landlady. " nice reliable set you police are, to 1 lno|sure! Ilerj they've gone and murderi l^i' I somebody, and carried <<11 tl:at girl t.1 ! vaners are advertising for, as well as }Ur" j lot of money, and?oh, dear.'"?wrinj ' ing her hands?"they were calculatir anc* ] to attack me, a lone widow woman, an )0?; ! distill me to sleep, and take away m ne<* j hard earnings, and carry me oil to taV cso" care of that young g'rli" and her ovc nd- | wr0ught imagination four.d vent in a sc Jty? or.d burstof tears. "What does she mean, anyhow? Quy asked the- officer, hopelessly mystified, yor t "Just wait till I get my btvath! n choked Mocre, with a renewed burst < ,ou'! merriment. Ply- j "Distill her to sleep!?oh, hold me! iaa* exploded his friend, following suit, few "Ain't you going to arrest them bcfoi iiite they murder me?" demand, d Mrs. Eei ljlc? son, mopping her face with her apron. j "Ju?t hold on till I hear their side < > *n , the story!" replied the officer, grinnin: sa" i "Come, what's the row about?" K Ear? . turned to Brown. be "Suppose we go in here and sit dow jro- i ?make it all clear in two minutes, had 1 rcp|ied the lodger, as he made a motic ^ to enter the sitting-room. ned ">To, you don't!-' shrieked Mrs. Bei sod, plunging forward. "My bank-boo is in there, iu the right hand bure.i | drawer, and I ain't going to be robbe before my own face and eyes! Besid< k'118 they'd like aa not jump out of the wii rc" dow and get away?that's the way the always do!" ar_ i Controling his risabilities with difl ."j 1 cuHy, 13rown held the opened roll of Mi ^or_ t >word the officer. em*! ' "This will sjlve the mystery,"hesai< ? " "My friend, Mr. Moore, has lately b come attached to the staff of n local p; r_. r>er. and is at present composing: a thril ''in"- romanc? ^or 'ts columns." lie hi ad' been in the habit of bringing the sever ^ instalments to me, for revision ar.d cri r;lU iii-m, and it occurred to h m today,; had we were til'king ovcr the plot, that >in?' wou^ a S??d idea to have my Ian* 0? lady figure as one of the 9ubordina rajj characters. That is the entire extent i :ce' our con9P'racy!" race "But how did she get wind of it asked the perplexed oflic.r. per.! -'Favesdropping, of course! There's i vacant room next to mine, with a clos wag in it; and we were talking over the su I ject somewhat animatedly. We can ried out into the entry at the same time th i she did, and ran against her in the dar ian ' My friend instinctively Caught hold ere, h?ri but she pulled away, and being clo ;hcn by the head of the stairs, the re-t can 1 to a summed up in a few words. Oh. what i foil woa tVw.rrt mv ?\nn(rvmi>ll !" a id t sue *?*" """ ?j ? j conspirators broke once more into a p? 3ea. ' of merriment, in which they were hcai I for ily joined this time by the policeman, aw- : In some way the landlady's mind h and become suddenly enlightened, and s I'm came forward with a beaming smile. i "Oh! is that it?" she exclaimed, c< >out dially. '\Are yon a story-paper man?" i "I have the honor to be associated wi i?ion the ThunOt er, madam." replied M>oi with a low bow. * "And one pa: t of r hed ' errand here to-iluy. was to ask you if y the ! < ould accori.modate me with lodgings, j will pay whatever Mr. Brown docs." icme ! "Oh certainly, certaiuly!" cried t i del'ghted widow, "?0 long a* y you ain't " "Quite such a vil'ain a=! I appeared isus- i be, eh:" laughed Moore. "And yoush 1? 4 ? _ du- nave conip liueuiury uupiea ui un my u, mall | du tions."' iftcr j ' Well, since there ain't nobody ;iven i arrest, I'll bid you'good afternoon, itry. ' marked the policeman, in lofty detiar e." i of Murray's (Grammar; and he bow \ on, i himself out, wh'lc Mrs. Henson, leadi that rthe way herself to the sitting-room. | vited the gentlemen to "rest a bi h -n j while completing the airangements r.I ?or i regard to her prospective lodger. jines Mr. Moore took possession of his ro< , I'll the next day. Mrs. lienson's bank-bo I'm | remained undisturbed, and her "saving gained monthly. Messrs. Moore a dose Urown are two of the brighest stars ood- the sta!f of the Thunderer, and M | Henson Iris never been tempted to [you peat the dangerous experiment of e.iv dropping, but stoutly maintains that .< w in always did and always will consider 1 two lodgers as ''the two very nice irsoi clevcrest gentlemen in the whole cit; ? Tid-X-.ti. How coifed ^()0n^='1^ ^iffhts Bad Tor Locomoti Engineers. Igor. "Moonlight nights?they nre the br class 0f railroad engineers,'7 said a head oftii re a of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad. ould engineers dread moonlight nights. T1 ould try their nerves to the utmost. Engine like to run on dark nights. On a moi uspi- light night the trouble with them is r th? trouble at all?shadows. An engine time looking out from his engine, sees bef I fe- him all manners of shadows. He is s I in- that the dark shadow across the track have 8ees i3 a raan or a rock, or some kind also an obstruction. Going around curv along hill sides, many curious shade ager. are outlined on the track, and very of r life nn engineer is so worked up over a nigl pira- ,ide that he is scarcely able to perfc they his duties. ier ' Clay-Eaten. nd ! I hive seen "sandhillers" in certain jr- parts of North and South Carolina, and he s-onie within ten mi es of Columbia, while it. engaged in eating their dinner, and have k; observed them consume, with evident ad relish, large quantities of clay, and what's ist more, I have joined iu their frugal repast ? and partaken of some of the sluil myself, air says a North Carolina doctor in the Atlanta Constitution. It is nearly tasteless, l(j. but some of the clay-eating epicurcs profess to enjoy it because of a delicate fta\Tf\y* ?n.HAoerto It io wVlifp AftVmfl of grit and not unlike the kaolin of which j plates and saucers are made. There is ?3_ nothing disagreeable about this clay and ?0 it may be taken into the stomach with ' impunity. It is not injurious as an article of diet, indeed many contend that it inist sures longevity nnd wards off several dishe ! eases. Theie:.re well auth:nticated in gt I stanccs of wonderful longevity among lie I ''clay eaters," and it is well understood he by such of the faculty as have studied the en subject that none of the ''sandhiPers" 0_ ever sufer with indigestion or dyspepsia, k and I ha- e never known one to die of conel sumption; in fact, foolish as it may seem, e. lain constrained to believe that this Th >trange habit exempts the "clay-eaters" ' from many of the ailments to which the rest s> of th.' human family are heirs. Of course I >lf there is nothing very succulent or nutri- | [ a tious about a slice of clay, but it cer- 1 tainly allays the gnawings of hunger, i er I This is done by distending the walls of 1 jt, the stoma_h. It is not to be expected that a clay diet will take ent'rely the as place of bread and meat, but it docs this n_ to a certain extent. i,j Iu my couutry pruclice, which, occasionallv carries me out into the sandhills th (occasionally I say, for although the sand- 1 hillers are the sickliest looking, most ><j ! cadaverous and woe be-gone beings in j the world, they are the healthiest), I have ht good opportunities to study their pecu- j. )fT liar habits. Th:-y can sub-ist on exceed-1 ? ingly limited quantities of meat; in fact is thjy get very little to eat, and that fat 3r bacon, about thrice a week. They are not lazy, but decidedly shiftless. They , \ are troubled with few wants, however, 1 3e and these are supplied easily. !(j "Do they e it only one sort of clay?" I ie ''As a general thing, yes," was the a reply, ''but sometimes their table is gar-' rr. ni-shed by a kind of yellowish marl,some- ) what scarce, which they consume with a keen relish. It is said to taste sweet, and ,y they use .t a9 a des-ert. They,however, j -c draw the line at red clay. Tnis not even rl their ironclad stomachs can digest. :' c_ 'Don't you eat red clay?' I a-ked a gawky ' old fellow. 'No, surrte," was his ani- ,1 " mated response; 'I have occasionally I h:id er brick in my hat, but I'll ba blamed ;? ef I hanker after making my bowels a 5f DricKyara."' Wealthy Journalists. i re Mr. Junius Henri Browne, who secma j x. to be somewhat soured with the world, asks in the Forum if anybody knows of a solitary journalist who has gained even , the most modest competence in bis pro[e fes-ion. Conundrums, as a general thing, i the Itec-ord dou's not care to answer, but n this is one so likely to deceive young as- . ? pirants for jouinulistic fume on the prosit! pects before them, that we hasten to set the matter right. IJ i. Yes, there are some journalists who be-:1 come independent. There are a great ,u many of them. For instance, in New d York there is Charles Nordoff, of the-*1 e Herald, who has grown rich on $10,000 a jl year. There is "Joe'' Howard, of every ,' .y paper which is willing to take any of his . products,on $15,U00 a year. There is Ed niund Hudson, the Washington corre- j / spondent of the Hoston Hera'd, who is a 3* rich man while yet young. "We could j name Mr. William B. Shaw, Wash- 1 * ington correspondent of the Boston Transcript, who, on a mode t salary. , ha* accumu'ated a very handsome fortunc. And take Eugene Field, the I funny* man of the Chicago JVetrx, who lives in great style and spends money i a" like water, and Mr. McK<an, the editor ,1 .. of the Philadelphia Ledger, one of the , j most thriving gentlemen of that prosper- j . * ous city. We might sprak of Whitelaw Reid, I who has made his everlasting fortune in journalism, and Charles A. Dana, with ' his $20,000 a year salary. In fact, the woods are full of them; and coming ; a nearer to Boston, there is our genial friend, Colonel Taylor, of the Globe, nnd Police Commissioner Smart, late of the , 7">- ? ? j 1M5 + A* TTof nf flio 7?o/#wm JTUW j <111U IwUibUi Uiuoi j Vi VWV JU.V.-VV..J at and numerous others who on their jour-, nalistic salaries have laid the foundation ?* of wealth. | :se Young friends seeking a place on a J36 newspaper, do not be deterred by any ja such yarns as this of J. H. Browne's. Thcro is wealth in journalism. It may ,a* not come right off, but sooner or later a ( r^" good journalist is bound to be rich?at least in a good constitution and a con- J a" soiousness of upright deeds well per'ie formed.?Boston Record. >r' Scissors Griuiers. ' Most of the scissors grinders leave rc' | town in the summer time. They comny ! men e about the 1st of May, and you 0li ! don't often see one carrying his machine * around the 1st of June. They go into ; . the country and work in little towns and among the farmers shaipcning scissors! 011 and razors. Onec in a while a $2 or $3 job is picked up at one house putting 1 Y? shaving tools in order and fixing scissors.; That pays well. Better prices are paid ! r0* in iliR country than for the same kind oi . work ia the city, and it costs almost' to nothing to live. It doesn't take much ' re" bread and meat to get along ou when j LCt> watermelons, cantcloupca and fruit are 1 e(l plenty. Potato patches aad roasting J tars help out a good deal, and occasion-1 i|J- ally a hen's nest is found in some fence t." corner, so you see if a fellow wants to he i ia c n live very cheap and save the money ' he earns. Cold weather drives them all 5m back to the city, and that is why you j ok hear their bells jingling through the is" s'reet when the snow covcrs the pavend mcnts. I know some grinder.-who have on a snug bank account and own property, r?- but you don't catch them tramping re* around much in the slush and ice. When es" a grinder turn-; out packing his machine he on his back in bad weather you can bel icr he is hard up and will take most any!st, thing you can offer him for a job. II ? " takes cash to live in the city, and if the poor fellows don't save their summei earning-, ti.ey have got to face the sleet ive and winter winds to get a little rradj money to go to the soup house.?GloleDemc-rat. me ? r?.!? ci 4 :iai a rair luetic a tun. .Nell was a serious child, with a pen* 'ey fhant for poetry. She had stood for a crs long time looking out at the snow-storm, LI1' when ht-r mother asked: no "What aie yoii thinking of, dear?" !C*r? "Oh, I wis just making poetiy," sh? ore answered, with a sigh. lVe "But what was it? ' Can't you tell ? mamma?" * fter considerable urging she repeated ?9' with great feeling: , 'Tis a sad, sad thing to stand and beg ? While the winter winds do blow, it s For the cold creeps up the little one's leg irm And makes her shiver so! i ?Minneapolis Tribune. LIFE IN MEXICO. SOCIAL AND RELIGIOUS HABI' OP OUR NEIGHBORS. Courtyards in the Houses?The A1 meda, or Public Park ? Belles and Beaux on Sunday Evening?Priests and Churches. A letter from Zacatecas, Mexico, the Detroit Free Press says: Every ci in Mexico has its plaza and alamed The former corresponds to our s tuare ai the latter to the driving park and proi enade, and in every fine house and hoi we find a courtyard. Thi3 is simply square yard in the center of a very lar building in which the tiers of rooms ai elevated porticoes on the four sides foi the wall of the inclosurc. Among t; more wealthy there is a vine-covered j azza leading down to a hewn stone marble-fountain. Close by there are co seats under the spreading branches evergreen tropical fruit trees. In tl rear there are winding walks encirclii beautiful fiower plats and shell-cover* rockerie3. Under the wide, :f:esco; veranda there arc numerous antiqi flower vases. Some are filled with del cate and fragrant flowers, while othe are entirely hid by overhanging ivy ar flowering vines. The niches in the wa are set with air plants and creepcrs. Tl grand entrance is closed by a large doub door made of hewn timber and put t gethcr with heavy bolts and iron band These doors are about fifteen feet hig! by twelve feet wide, and swing to ar fro under the wide arch that unites tl second stories over the passage-way. Tl center of this .arch is sometimes adorm with the statue of the patron saint of tl family, at other times we see a rude ima< of an ancient Aztec, while among tl more modern we s:e the Spanish coat i arms or the present emblem of Mexico, spread eagle perched on a cactus pla: and devouring a snake. When night comes the Don, his fami and retinue of servants are gatherel in f.ho rniirf.vnrfl nff.flr which tllfi OTfi doors arc brought to by main strengt then locked ^aud fastened by an ext bolt and a long bar across the top at bottom. Among the very ancient stru tares there is a deep moat surroundir the building; this is crossed by a dra-* bridge, and when drawn in is used as portcullis for the door. The alr.meda. like the courtyard, pr ssnts a picture of perpetual springtim Each are the breathing places of the respective surroundings, and usually po sesses all the beauty of landscape gnraei ing known to the people. Here we fie a reservoir, but no water works, a fe neat flower plats and long rows of stoi jeats in the form of our old-time, hig] backed benches. On either side of the: there are smooth drives and walks, b [ween long lanc3 of overlapping shac trees. In the early morning the students ac ill classes having leisure come here walk or drive. The invalid of wealth here in a carriage or on horseback, whi those among the poor may be seen co: tentedlys sated on a chair that is utrappt to the back of a cargador, thus all a having their morning ride. Many of tl peons and pe'ados, wrapped in the blankets, are seated in the sunny place apparently for the purpose of thawir out. The water carriers, like a natic of ants, are parsing each other to an fro with their morning supplies water. On Sunday evening Mexii L ^..1 i \ 1. oil.,. ,1.,^ turns uui JU uur uusi. a nc uuuc the day, clothed ic oat skin and tinsc is here with his hormi. Ho wears a sil v mounted wide somb:ero, and carries long lasso and lar^e n/olver on one sic and a dangling sheathed sword on tl other. Of course there are 110 cattle catch, or men to carve an i shoot, but th is the cavalier style, and ths poor ere hire would feel it a burning shame to 1 out without his acout^emenfs when the were so manv beaux ind belles to ga upon him. When he oiectg a lady frier he lifts his hat high in air 2nd say ' Buenos todas, para server." (Uoc evening. I am at your service.) 1 which iJona Luisa replies: "Muy bie gracias." (Very well. Tliank you Jf he is on foot, he takes her hand ui says in Spanish grandiloquently: ( / _-a 11 n place myscn ac your ieut, iuiss. j which sh?; answers by saying: "I ki your hand, jir,'' after which they beg a conversation composed of termse |Ual extravagant. When particular friem meet the v often fail to shake hands, b will giv? each other a close cmbrac The ladies usually begin by kissing tl right and left cheek, next they embrai a few moments, after which they fiuii their verbal greetings and proceed to e change the latest neighborhood news. When a priest is saluted men take ( their hatu, often embrace him, and ladi usually kiss his hand. When the bish< is passing in the street the people take < their h its and kneel until he has passe during vhich time they blc-=s ihemselvc say a sh irt p:ayer and invoke his ble; ing. The same respect is paid to a prie when he is on his way with cross in hai to administer the <acrament of extren unction. Then all are expected to ofi a prayer for the soul of the dying. The Bufa is a neat stone church bu: in the subuibs of Zacatecas, on the sui mit of one of the highest mountain pea! 'ATnvir-n A Inrrro cmwM tl ILi WV??.V. "* v. summit, and the little church close 1 contains a ta red shrine, to which mai devotees fiora far and near make an a nu.d pilgrimage, home have come bai fooled over thorny any stony p'air while bearing a cross on their shouldei Others on arriving at the chnrchya gate advance to the front door on th< bare knee? over pebble and flagstoi walks. The most of this is sclt'-imposi penance. This church, like all". 3Iexic; churches we have seen, is without pew hence the cougregation arc seated on t floor. It has many beautiful paintin; and sculptures. The Largest Clock in the World. Buffalo is to have the largest clock the world. The dial will be twenty-ti feet in diameter, and the ccntre of ti dial will be three hundred and sixty-o leet above the street, The dial wiil 1 illuminated by clcc ric ty, and it is ct culated that the time can be seen inuHt lrom any point iu wiu tuj, m with a field glass the position of tl hands can be distinguished at a distan of fifteen miles. The minute hand the clock will be twelve feet long, ai the hour hand will measure nine feet length. The Koman figures on the di will be two feet eight inehes in lengt A steam engine will be placed in t] tower to wind the clock up every da Theclockmakers who have been invited give their views concerning this buildii of the clock all say that nobody in tl: country is able to build such an cnormo timepiece. It will take a whole year place the clock machinery in the tow after the structure is completed. T bell for the clock is to weigh betwe 20,000 and 25,000 pound*, and it is ci culated to peal so loud that it can heard in a distant part of the city. WORDS OF WISDOM. A little of everything is nothing in the rS main. A civil denial is better than a rude grunt. I_ We are to look for the origin of man I ( in paradise, not in the zoological garden. Health is the second blessing that we mortals are capable of, a blessiDg that money cannot buy. It is the easiest business in the world 1 , y to do a thing. The learning how is where i ^ the difficulty exists. n. There is a good deal of religion that is j iel like a morning cloud?as soon as the sun a gets not it disappears. ge True bravery i3 shown by performing ad without a witness what one might be m capable of doing before all the world, he A lie is a breach of promise; for whori ever addresses his discourse to another or tacitly promises to speak the truth, besy cause he knows the truth is expected. ^ No man for any considerable period "e can wear one face to himself and another Jo to the multitude without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true. ac There always comes some smooth runU ninj to every skein before all is done. H You mustn t try to see through the whole ( ?i!iein or to straighten it all out iDto a ' single thread befoie you begin to wind; [ie that makes a snarl always. There is ali ways an end, and it is what you have got 0- to take hold of. s. h, The Deepest Body of Fresh Water. A party sent out by the United States ie ii o a I VreuiuyJi.iU ouivejr, unuoi iiiu v.umuiauu , of Cuptftin Clarence E. Dutto j, U. S. A., . has ?ucc:eded in reaching and making a complete survey of Crater L;ike, in Ore? gou, a body of water whose shores, with . the possible exception of one point on the south, have never before been touched . by the feet of white men. The party's boats were hauled 10J miles by mulo , teams, dragged by a detail of soldiers up ^ the snow-clad sides of the ridge which t Burroundsjthe lake, and lowered by ropes ^ from the crest to the water, 900 feet below. One hundred and sixty soundings l(j were made, the result of which gave the c general character of the lake bottom. * Two large submerged cinder cones were found, respectively 800 and 1,200 feet ' ^ high, the rest of the bottom being flat. Taptain Dutton believes this to be the deepest body of fresh water on the con" tineut. The greatest depth attained by ' the sounding line was 2,003 feet. _ "As regards the origin of the basin," he writes to Director Powell, "I now |(j have a decided opinion. It has, I think, I w been forme.l in much the same way us ie the great calderas of the Hawaiian l, Islands, by the melting of the founda,n i:ions of the original mountains, the blow- , e" iing out of the molten mater al in the i i .form of light pu-nice and fine tufa. It cannot have been formed by an explosion, like Krakatao and Tomboro in the East IC* Indies, for there is no trace of the frag- , ments anywhere in the country rounaj9 about. But the pumice and tufa which Ie surely emanated from the crater are seen in vast quantities anywhere within a ra!Cl clius of twenty to sixty miles and in , re quantities ample to fill t!:e whole vast \c crater twice over. The age of the crater !ir i3 wholly post-glacial. 1 have found at j 3? the extreme crest of the wall on the i western side splendid examples of gla- J j j cial striation, whiie the old moraines are J, ~ i half a mile to a mile below. That the age , | (if the caldera cannot be great is evident i from the f.ict that, though the walls are 9 crumbling at a very rapid rate, the talus ? has not only not reached the water surer ! face anywhere, but the sounding dis,a closes but little of it at the bottom." le lie to A Russian General's Superstition. 119 Vereschagin, the distinguished Rusa" sian painter, in the (ourse of some remi- j 1)6 i niscenccs of his friend Skobeleff. notes re i that the General was very superstitious. i Skobeleff had made him a pre ent of the l" flag under which he had gained twentys: two victories. It was made of red silk, J" with a yellow cross embroidered in the ' ? middle, and it was torn by mauy bullets. n> On leaving for his last Turkestan expe- I ' ] dition Skobelyff remembered the flag I "j , and asked his friend either to give it : j back to him or to send him another in ex- i l0 J change. >Ime. Vcreschagin made an | .ss . elaborate new flag, which was greatly 'n admired on its arrival in the camp both i 'y | by the General and his men. But Sko- i I belefT was just then unsucessful. The j I enemy made a sortie from Goek Tcpc, i jf* took a number of arms, a cannou ana a 'ie I flag. Skobeleff was in despair. "Gi\c j cc j me the old flag bac k, the new one is un** lucky," he wrote to me. I gave nothing \ x" back. Another sortie, another defeat and I considerable losses. Another appeal: )ff "Give back, give back, my lucky fl;ig; ' es i take the one away which has no luck." I ! Ci.211 T r.itrn T^inallv I >]' : 01111 j 1 UiU uuu guv ib MWW?. - ??.v . )it" Goek Tej e was taken, large numbers of d, the enemy were killed and an abundance :s, of arms and baggage fell into the tri>3 umphant Geneial's hands. 3Iy flng rc-1 st gained its favor, Skobeleff and his Titrko-1 id j mans were never t'rcd of admiring it. I ne i To-day this "lucky" flag rests on the cr I tomb of the General.?Pall Mull Oaz.tte, An Optical Illusion. ^3 M. De Parvellc has called the attention of the French Academy of Sciences to a jy curious illusion of the vision which may ' j,y account for the apparent oscillation or I n_ swinging of stars sometimes observed, I c. I and called by the Germans f-'tern- j ig ! schwnnken. Wh.n the eye looks for ,3[ j sometime at a small,feebly lighted body, r(j i itself being in complete darkness, the ;jr: body appears to oscillate or describe cerll0 I tain curvcs. It is a phenomenon of the e(j j subjective order,and appears to be of the an , same nature as the movement of a star ,s j observed when a person leans the he id 1^ j against a wall, and fixes his eye upon the I tv,? cfnr nnnoiipq to be nmtated in ?g | OLUl its place and to oscillate rapidly. In order that the motion may be noticed, there should be no moon, and the sky 1 should be clear. A lunette takes away [ the apparent motion.?Scienti/ic Ainerim can. ve ?? . i The Grocer. ne kp A grocer cannot take Lis E's . Or even C K rest, li" For he's to market while the B's fit Sleep E Z in their nest, id i lie He has to wateh with all his I's te When customers S A ( To help themselves, or other Y's They'd steal his tine R A. id in He makes big profits on his T's, al With sugar mixes S & Jj, And grinds with v ofl'ee lots of P's ( Or N E thing at hand. J. Slow payers he must net X Q's to Because, in K C trusts, jo- With all the caution ho may U's Sure in the N D busts. us When for a man he cuts H E's to A big P C will weigh cr And wrap ft ere the buyer C's kc It's mouldy with D cu Most everyone tho grocer O's l\- But, if he's Y Z will u- Shut down on each dead B T knows And have no M T till. ?H. C. Dodge, in Tid-Bits 1 OLD AND NEW HATS. INTERESTING POINTS ABOUT MEN'S HEADGEAR. SjJk and Pelt Mostly Used in Male* ing Hats?Felting Process ?The Origin of the Stovepipe. "What becomes of all the old hatsP a hatter on Park Kow was asked. "Oh, they go to the skinners, who do them up again and then ship them to the country. Of course, you don't know what a skinner is? There is one right across the way, and you can find r.ny number on the Bowery and on Hester and Baxter BtrPPtS if vrtii -nrnnf fnfinrl ftitt something about old hats." As long as it will hold together, a hat, be it ever so battered and shapeless, retains a certain value in the eye3 of the dealer in old clothes and the ragpickers. Crushed, frayed, and dim, they are carried off to ba rejuvenated in frowsy back shops. It is wonderful to mark the transformation which the cunning touch of the manipulators can effect, or how their glue and brown paper, blacking and dyed rabbit's fur can stiffen and smarten the mangiest old tile into the semblance of its early prime. One of the best known establishments in which old hats undergo a rejuvenating process is to be found on the Bowery. It is an old, narrow and frowsy shop, filled to overflowing with old, misshapen things once appendages to the seat of human reason. In the years of its existence the old shop and its proprietor must have seen numerous changes in masculine headgear. The owner of the establishment, for some mysteiious reason, is deep.r than miny of his brothers on Hester street and Park row in the secrets of the elixir which turns old garments into new. He is no conjurer. and never tries the proverbially difficult experiment of placing new heeds on old shoulders. But how many, many times has he succeeded in putting old bat* on young heads, especially in remote country districts. Ilis womankind serve him well, making it a labor of love to replace the lost nap, aud handling the bare edges as gingerly as if the felt or pasteboard below were dynamite ready to explode under rough usuage. Refreshed hats at this establishment are not dear either. They are quoted at from $1 to $3.50. Thirty-five cents represents the charge of the old clothes' dealer, the rest is for labor, embellishment, and fair profit. At $1 the pretty and brilliant thing seems cheap. It bears fine weather well, and may figure creditably on Broadway for three consecutive Saturday afternoons. But at the downpour of rain, glue and gum and paint, silk and brown paper reBolve themselves into their original constituents, and the whole fabric collapses like a dissolving view. "The prevailing tendency of the age," Baid the proprietor of the shop, "is to avoid distinction of dress except in the value of the material, and then only between the two great divisions of society, the rich and the poor. Hence all ornaments seems to be a superfluity, except : ?t ?,;is UJJUU uuuasiulis ui puuiit uiajuaj wi mmtary service. Men will not now listen to any one who advises them to put feathers and yold lace on their hats and caps. Men of the present day are determined to be plain about the head as well as about the body. All ornaments of head dress they have left to the fairer half of the creation." ' What material is mostly used in bats?" "Silk and felt. In men's hats only Dne radi al change has taken place within the last thirty years, and that is with reference to the material of the nap. formerly in the more expensive hats that was always of beaver fur or beaver fur mixed into the down of the hair and the fur of the musk rat. The excessive demand for this peltry and the great profits of the trappers have nearly caused the extinction of the beaver. Beaver fur became very dear, and substitutes had to be devised. Hat naps were made from the fur of the rabbit, from other inferior furs, and especially from cat skins. At the best a beaver hat was a tire-ome article of annarel. It was verv clean and wanted the most dainty haudling and the most scientific brushing. It either got rough and woolly and dim, quite losing its pristine gloss, or it became greasy and a single day's neglect gave it even in youth all the marks of decrepit old age. The silk bat has supplanted it after a fierce struggle, having to overcome the opposition of the whole furdealing interest. Far off in the north of this country the white trapper and the Indian hunter caused the change of fashion, and then turned to seek bread in other ways. The beaver has actually reappeared in the long settled districts of Canada." "What i3 understood by felting?" "Wool, so long as it contains the natural yoke or animal grease, refuses to felt; that is, its fibres will not mat together into a compact and close-grained mass, which constitutes felt. When the yolk has been extracted by a clrmical process the wool has a tendency to interlace its fibres and to adhere firmly to the union thus formed. From a very remote period the Orientals have had this secret." "How did men come to wear the stovepipe?" "The hot-blooded youth who fought for Ameritan independence under Lafayette and Uochambeau brought back the round, stiff rimmed hat with them to Pflric no o purirtno nntrnlf'Tr T'Hptp tlQPfl to be a mob round Franklin when that benevolent print r represented the young Republic at the moribund court of Louis X\L, fo wonderful in the eyes of thi Parisians was the modern cylinder. But the new hat had about it a prestige of liberty and equality. It seemed a protest against the lac.d triangle that kings and marshals had worn so long, and which had something of a ceremonial stillness inherent in it. The Republicans of France adopted the hat. A hideous, tall, tapering, French chimney pot it is. well worthy of reprobation on the ground of its intrinsic demerits.'' "What do you consider the best headwear?" "For the invention ot a truly perfcct human hat there is an enormous fortune in store. The want is universal. We should have a hat suitable for all climates, positions and circumstanccs, which >*<<11 An.tKIn AM 4 /I { VkAltCA TTT1 4" V* Mm will ciiiiuic JUCli i kj vi.oj/cdov; nim uiu brellas and other physical discomforts, which will be brain-stimulating and not head-crushing, aud which will be iu all respects a thing of beauty and a joy iorever.''?New York Sun. The island of Chiloe, on the southwest coast of South Amcrica, hes 290 days of cold rain and sleet in the year. Yet catarrhs and pulmonary troubles are said to be very rare among the native dwellers in this remarkable climate. Even snakes have their uses. In Call, fornia they destroy gophers and ground squirrels, and the local papers express the opinion that some varieties of snakes ought to be protected by law. J A Flash of Lightning. j Nothing, in the Ion# run, cormands a higher reward in the w^rld thaa perse- _ verance and thoroughness. Here is an incident in point: A young lad in Pennsylvania who was supporting himself as a stenographer, , >. studied in his leisure time the art of photography. Photography has been a craze for years past with American boys," and tens of thousands of young lads are going about with their cameras taking pictures. Most of the n, however, grow tired of the pursuit in a short time, and give it up, without, probably, having-> made a creditable picture. But this boy was as anxious and ca eful with the amusement as if his livelihood depended on it, and studied not only the practice, but the theory of the art. An exhibition 1 was given in Philadelphia a few years ago of all elcctrical discoveries and machinery. Among the exhibits was a photograph of a storm. This boy discovered that no one had ever succeeded ? .. in photographing a fla-h of lightning. He resolved to attempt this ecientihc feat, which was pronounced impossible. The lightning must paint its own likeness, hence the photograph must be taken at night. For two years whenever there was a storm he put on a waterproof Ml and carried his camera to the roof of the house. The prepared plated was put in. and turned to the quarter of the akj from which the fla h would probably come. But the l:ghtning9, no more tamed than in the days of -lob, will not comer* our bidding, and say unto us: "Here we are." The lad wat.-hed, in the drenching rain upon the house-top, through eveiy stormy night for two years, and spoiled one hundred nnd sixty plates in attempting to catch the evanescent flash. But on the hundred nnd sixty-first plate there appeared the black sky, riven by a dazzing stream of electric light 1 Fox the firtt time in the history of the world there was a true picture of a flash o' lightning. Copies of this picture are now to bo found all over the world, and the boy received letters from all the scientific " men of Europe congratulating him on his success. ... Audubon, the ornithologist, spent J hours every day standing up to the chin in the waters of the bayoux of Louisiana, studying a certain moth. His wife complained that he had thus brought on congestion of the lung-?, and permanently: injured his health. "Possibly," he sa:d, with indifference. "But there can be no .v no doubt as to the ipecies of that moth!" - ..." We hear much complaint among young men entering life tl at there is no room for them in any business or profession. There is room in each for zeal and thorDughness, and they never fail to command success and recognition, even in the making of a picture or the study of ?moth.?Youth's Companion. A Story in Figures. "I notice that the school census, just taken, gives Chicago a population of little more than 70J,0 ;U,'' said a whitehaired man who loves tigurcs and statistics. The old man was sitting on the rear seat of a Madison streetcar, andhia remarks were addressed to no one in particular, but, seemingly, to all in general. "Seven hundred thousand makes quite a i city," he went on; 4 now, how many of : I you youngsters can tell me the number of I cities in the world having a population I preatcr than Chicago? Not one of you. That's just what 1 expected." Then the old man invited the boys to guess at the number, and their estimate? ranged from 100 to : 00. "You are all off.'- continued the sta~ tistician, "Just as I cxpected you would be. The general idea is I hat there are scores and even hundreds of greater cities than Chicago, but that is a great 1 . mistake. There are just seven more ^ " populous cities than Cfcicago on the face of the earth. London is first, with four millions; Paris second. wit!itwo millions and a half; Canton third, with about a million and a half; Few York, fourth with about fourteen hundred thousand; Berlin fifth, with 1,200,000; Vienna sixth, with 1,100,000. ui:d Fhiladelj.hia seventh, with amilbo i. Chicago is the eighth city and eighth wonder of the wurld. True, there arc in China five cities besides Canto:i?Siangtan.Singanfu, Tschantschiiu !'u, Tientsin and T>chingtu-fu?which are estimated each * --- l*.,* to nave aDout a ram.on p ^umuuu, uu> no census was ever taken, and, at any rate, these places arc hardly worthy the name of cities, being mere clusters of villager covering hundreds of square miles of territory.?Chicago Herald. Wasp Stings. I G. M. Haskins, of White County, 111., says in a letter to the New York World: Wasps and their stings are a terror to most children, and grown up people prefer to give these insects a wide berth. Occasionally, as in the stirring up of a nest of wasps, the injuries received become of a most serious nature. Two years ago a son of mine, some ten years old, accidentally stepped into a wasp's .. nest while p'.ayiug about an old tree stump. In an instant he was attacked by numbers of the enraged wasps. His cries attracted m; attention, and with the aid of others I finally got him away from his persecutors into the house. The ' child had swooned under the pain of some fifty or more stings, and as there' was no doctor at hand we sliced onions and rubbed the juice over his hands, face, neck and wherever a sting appeared. This treatment we kept up for several hours, until finally sleep came to relieve the child. I am inclined to believe that the juice of the raw onions applied to the stings as described saved the child's life. At all events, h'e recovered from this (er * ? ? -mi ritic attacK witnoiu oiuer m cueum iu?u the suffering caused by the sting? and several wakeful, feverish nights. I have never since had occasion to try the onion remedy, but should certainly resort to it again in my own family if so unfortunate as to be stung again. The Hair Suddenly Turning Wtite. A correspondent of Notes and Qutries states ihat Sir Erasmus Wilson, in his work "Healthy Skins," gives the following instances of the human hair suddeuly becoming white: A girl whose hair became as white as a pocket-handerchic!" on the shock of receiving news of her lover's death; a !aly who became gray in a few days on linding her sister dead in bed by her side; Sir Thoma3 More, on the night before his execution; two cases lecorded by Horeilus, three by Daniel Turner, one by Dr. Cassan and a few miscellaneous case?, of whi.h the most remarkable is the following: "A' gentleman on his mairiage, wlien about forty years old, had a dark head of hair,, but on his return from his wedding trip had become so completely snow-white, v.:? +Viri+ }iia friends nl. C veil LU v? ?. most doubted bis identity." He also mentions the case of John Libeny, a would be assassin of the Emperor of Auatra, who-e hair turned snow-white in the forty-eight hours preceding his execution. In the same work is given (he case of a peasant, recorded by the Italian, Dr. Sarti, whose skin gradually darkened after a sudden shock of fear, until it became quite black.