The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, May 09, 1888, Image 6
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. SPRING.
When birds are singing
On bush and tree,
And opening roses
Allure th? bee?
When grass is growing
In glade and glen,
And young leaves gladden
The lonely fen.
:
When earth yields glimpses
Of hoarded grain,
And the sunshine glimmers
Through threads of rainWhen
dew is falling
On stalk and bud,
And fervid fancies
Invade the blood?
When brooks are flowing
In music free,
And warm winds travel
Across the sea.
When earth beguiles us
With smile or tear,
We know with gladness
That spring is here!
' > ? William H. Hayne,in Youth's Companion.
?
THE TWO GEORGES.
" -
BT PAUL PASTJfOB.
They say that fate governs the choices j
of young hearts. Perhaps fate had soms- i
thing to do with the inditing of the two
following notes:
Summer view, June 58.
My Darling Niece: I am to be all alone
this summer in the dear old homestead at
Summerview. Of course I shall have itfy
servants with me, but when I say "all alone"
I mean 1 shall be without a companion, unless
you, dearest girl, will come and spend
the summer with me. Do say that you will.
I shall be so lonely. And then, too, you
know that you promised to come some time
and ransack the old house. I know you will
finJ it full of treasures. Why, the garret
has not beau disturbed for fifty years, and
C- such a collection of antiquities as you will
flnh hvlopa i wm'fa ???? k%? ?~
??mu? v *< * >ic uio uj 1 CI Ut IX UUilll tUttb j
you will come. I shill take no other ansvrer. i
Let me know the d*y when you will arrive
and a conveyance shall meet you at the station.
Your loving Acnt Mart.
Miss Geoiige Pai>te, Brooklyn, N. Y.
summerview, July 1.
My Dear Bot: 1 have settled down at
last and you may come ani see me and welcome.
No more seafaring life for your old
Uncle Ben! Here I am in a neat little cottage ;
on the banks of a pretty lake; and here I
shall stay until I make the last long voyage j
unto that "bourne from which no traveler i
returns." I have a little boat in which I drift I
about the lake now and then, and an old naz
that I jog to town behind. I have books and
cariosities, a gun and a dog, and plenty of
fishing cackle. Come down, you rascal, and
enjoy youiself. Come any time, and stay as
V "" long as von please. I shall enjoy it as much
a* you will. Your old sea-dog of an uncle,
Ben Duummond.
< George Matthews, Cambridge, Mass.
Miss George Paine, of Brooklyn, was
in ecstasies when she received her aunt's
note. She had made no plans for the
summer. Indeed, she had not determined
to make any, hoping that Aunt Mary
would remember the promise once ex- j
acted and repeat the invitation to come j
to Sumtrierview when she should have
taken noasncsinn of tha inlrt Vinnao Tf ;
there was anything under the broad
' " , blue sky that George Paine adored, it:
was rummaging. In her woman's na- j
ture it was akin to the masculine passion j
for discovery. She could enter an old j
garret or storeroom with as much ro-j
mantic swelling of heart as an explorer
aailing into some great unknown bay or
lake in the midst of an untrodden wilder- I
neas. Her temperament was poetic and
meditative. She was unlike mo?t other |
girls of her age, or, perhaps it would be
more proper to say young ladies, for
George was twenty. She was not ex
actly a "pretty recluse," for she loved a
lltt'e society now and then. Neither by
saying that her temperament was "poetic,"
should it be inferred that she was
a writer of very poor sentimental verse?
as too many young ladies who call themselves
"poetic" are. She loved to read |
good poetry, and sometimes poetic!
. . ^ 'dreams would run in her pretty i
little head. This was the extent of her j
weakness! in that direction. Her love ,
of old and curious things was natural !
enough. She had always dovoured his
tfir? thrnwinir Hnnf if trlom/Mi* nf !
her own imagination. She had read all j
the historical novels she could get hold
of, especially stories of American colo- j
nial nistory. All the colon:al poems in !
American literature she had by heart, and ;
it was the crowning joy of her life tnat1
the had once shaken hands with Long-1
fellow in company with a score of her
classmates who bad called upon the poet
at his home in Cambridge.
Now the very opportunity she had
always longed for presented itself in the :
note from Summerview. Aunt Mary had
l*taken posse-sion of the o*.d homestead?
George's g. eat-^reat-grandmother's orig*
inally?and had invited her to come and
rummage ' in it. The house was one of i
the oldest in Massachusetts, and for!
more than a hundred years it had been j
accommodating in its dark recesses heir- ,
iuuuis aim treasure i 01 me uarit past;.
Could anyth'ng be more romantic?'
George sat down immediately and wrote: j
FK-. Brooklyn, N. V.. June 30.
Dearest Austie?Of course I will come many,
many thanks for your kind invitation. I
Look for me next Saturday. George
Unc'.e Ken's letter found George Mat- :
thews at Cambridge. The young man j
had just graduated from Harvard Col- ;
lege and was taking a long breath after
the labor and excitement of annuals and (
' commencement. The opportunity for ;
rest and amusement at 8ummerview was
just what he watted. Besides, Uncle;
Een was the prince of good fellows?a
jolly old soul who knew more about the
round world than half the professors,
and whose knowledge, best of all, was
flntirelv "first hand " So. iu>t before
the "g!oriou3 Fourth"' George delivered
the key of his room to his landlady, and
with a monstrous trunk tilled with books,
pipes, pictures-everything but clothes,
for the young man was not at all dressy
?took his departure for dear, old, sleepy
Summer view.
As it happened, the very day when
George Matthews' train diew up at Summerside
station George Paiue had gone
fishing a'.ono in the little lake beyond the
viilagc. A curiou* thing for a young
lady to do, did you say? Wei1, George
Paine was a curious girl. !rhe didn't
give a snap for the conventionalities
For almost a week now she had been
nimmannnf? steudilv in the dark, close
o?"? ?
ffarret of the old manse, and to-day she
longed for some fivsh air and some exercise.
"VVhat shall I do. auutie? she asked.
"What out-door sport have you prepared
for ir.y sole and special en oyment?"
"Why, dear child. I hadn't thought of
that at all 1" was Aunt Mary's dismayed
reply. "In fact, I didn't suppose that
? -*1 *T.v,?
you carea lor oui-uour spuria.
girls don't"
''Most city girls do, njntie, begging
your pardon. Well, now, let me see.
Is there a saddle horse, or even a sidesaddle,
connected with the establishment?''
"Jh, dear, no! None of the women
here ever ride horseback."
"There?I have it!"exclaimed Gearge
irrelevantly, clapping her hands. "I
sa<v a fishing rod and line out in the
barn yesterday. Whose is it?"
" iohD's. I "suppo30 Ho occasionally
bv
i "
brings in a mess of fish. But you
wouldn't go fishing, child!"
"That I would, auntie, and will, too!
Wheie is John?"
"He went to Weybridge this morning
to get the horses shod."
"Well, then, I'll go alone!" was
George's determined answer. Aunt
Mary did all she could to dissuade her
niece from such a "hoydenish" proceeding,
but the vivacious girl would not
listen. "Oh, I've been fishing many
times before," she cried. "Every year
when we go to the raounta'ns I take my
? *?** owl rtck fnr trnilt. KnW
I WU Willi I lie UUU IICU 4V? ? vwo.
don't you worry. I'll iust step over to
the lake and t!sh from the bank, and I'il
he home to supper with a string of fish
just as sure as my name ia G-e-o. Paine.
So there!"
George ran out to the barn, captured
the rod and line, and started off. She
crossed the field behind the (hurch and
was just entering the lane that ran down
through the meadow when she suddenly
stopped and caught her breath wi.h a
whimsiral look of dismny.
No bait! Worms?she wouldu't touch
the dirty things, anywny. Even if she
had them who would bait her hook ?
" -1 L I -
urassnoppurs?ujju ; iuo gicat
scratchy, syrupy things I Well, what
then? Perhaps there would be a little
boy at the lake whom she could bribe to
put one of his worm3 on her hook.
Happy thought! George trudged merrily
on again, and in due time arrived
at her destination.
There she found a boat?a real pretty
little boat, too. with one of those movable
sails folded and lying under the
thwarts?but no boy in sight anywhere,
nn enocimnn nf t.hp crnntlS homo HlflSCU
line gender of any description. Well,
she could take a boat ride, any way.
She would hire the boat. %
"Walking up to the little cottage above
the cove e'eorge knocked at the door. ;
Xo response. She knocked again and !
louder. Still no answer. Then she J
tried the door. It was locked. Impelled i
by curiosity, she stole around and looked !
in at one of the windows. Iler first!
mental comment was: "Some man lives !
here alone?au old bachelor, I'll wager."
Everything in the room which she was !
inspecting was in order, but not in fern- !
ininp <vrr?pr A hie iar. with tWO oilieS
sticking out of it, stood on the table; n
gun lay across some pegs on the wall; a !
large pair ot slippers occupied a prominent
place on the rug in front of the
empty fireplace.
"Well, I suppose I ought not to be
peeking," s:ghed CJeorge, after she had
surveyed the room with its entire contents
and thoroughly satisfied her curiosity.
"I guess I'll borrow the man's !
boat, any way, and pay him when he j
comes home." So saying she hurried !
down to the beach again, and pushing i
the little boat olf from shore?for it was
not fastened in any way?she jumped j
aboard and drifted out into the clear.
waters of the lake. The oars lay across '
the thwarts, and George picked them
un, fitted them to the tholepins, and
'? J J i-V -
rowed out oi me cove ana arouuu ma ;
point. "I wonder if I could fish, with-!
out bait?" she queried. Just then her
eye fell upon something bright and glit- \
tering that lay under the stem seat of
the boat. She pulled it out and there
was a trolling spoon with a hundred feet
e>r more of line. "Eureka!" cried the
young lady. "Xow I can fish."
She rowed the boat rapidly for a short
distance to give it headway and then j
paid out her line until she had about;
fifty feet of it in the water. Then she j
took the line in her teeth, in old fisherman
f.shion, and rowed on up the shore, i
Suddenly there was a tug that came near ]
loosening some of the fair fisherwomau's
pearly teeth. She dropped the oars and
seized the line with both hands in a J
hurry.
"Dear me!" it must be n dreadful^
big one!"she gasped, as the boat whirled
around with the desperate efforts of the
fish to escape. George hung on bravely, i
however, and presently the fish became
more quiet, so that she was able to draw
it slowly toward the boat. The excitement
increased as the distance between J
the boat and the fish diminished. ' Every '
now arid then the victim would make a !
dart to right or left and the line would j
fairly ring through the water, while j
Georere clung to it with a pale determina-1
tion "which would have made her laugh!
if she could have seen it. Now the J
victim wa* almost in sight. George
knew it was a monster by the way it
tugged, and, anxious to obtain a glimpse
of Tier prize, and also thinking she could !
manage it betier thus, she stood up in ;
the boat. This action frightened the \
fish. It pluDged desperately downward. j
The boat rocked and swung half around;J
George lost her balance, and, with a
piercing scream, fell headlong into the
water.
The next thiug she knew she was lying
in the boat and a man was rowing her j
rapidly toward the shore. She had not
been in the water a great while, but she
plainly remsinbercd the choking sensa
tion when she first went down. As soon
as the man who was rowing saw her i
open her eyes he held the oars suspended
for a moment and a look of intense relief
aud satisfaction came into hi* face. "Oh, j
sir!' cried George faiutly; "it is to you
I owe my life. How can I ever repay i
you?"
"It is reward enough just to see you !
open your eyes again!" exclaimed the'
youug man, warmly. His fine eyes
glowed as he spoke, and George could i
not help remarking in the midst of her \
distress that he was as handsome as he 1
was heroic and good. Before the boat j
had e ? en grated" on the beach a pair of j
strong arms seized it and dragged it up '
high and dry.
| Well, miss," cried a gruff but hearty !
voice, "you got capsized, ch? My stars,
h')w wet you are! Come up into the '
; house right off. And you, George, go j
; and change your clothes straight away."
It was Uncle Ben. He had been to
the stat on to meet h!s nephew, and it1
was while on their way to l'ncle Ben's
! "snuggery" that they had becomfe spec- j
tators of" Miss George I'aine's contest,
' with the big fish ana her ignominious ;
plunge into the water. It was at this |
! juncture that George Matthews had
swum out and saved the fair angler j
from drowning.
j "When L'ncle Bi n commanded his j
nephew to "go and change his clothes ;
straight away," a startled and question - j
ing look had come into George Paiue's
: face. L'ncle Ten noticed it ana mumbled
out an apo.ogv: *u wai spi-itK.iug iu uij
nephew, miss."
"Why, my name is George, too!" cxj
rlaimed the girl, with a laugh. "What
a co:n<idcn e!"
'Well, I should 6ay so!" replied
j Uncle Ben. "You are the first girl I
ever heard call herself by a boy's name,
j But here you arc shivering. You must
; come right into the house."
In less than five minutes the old gen;
tlcman had a smart blaze started in the
j "snuggery " fireplace. "I wish I had
' something dry for you to put on,,,!^ic
: cried, throwing a big shawl over the
I girl's shoulders, "ueorge, you rascai,
i you here yet? I thought I told you to
j go and change your wet clothes. Oh,
! they're at the depot, eh? Well, take
i some of mine, take some of mine, my
| boy!"
s V--. 7.'"
V.
f
' Oh, I'm not very wet, uncle. Let
me bring some more wood for the fire."
"Aha! so you're ashamed to be seen in
your uncle's duds, eh? Well, catch cold
if you will; you'll have yourself to thank
for it The consequences must be on
your own head."
4'And in it, too!" laughed George
Paine, who was beginning to get dry before
the generous blaze, and whose
natural vivacity thawed out correspondingly.
The young man joined in the
laugh and drew up in front of the fire.
Meanwhile Uncle Ben bustled around,
made another fire in the stove and pro*.
CCL'Ueil IU UICW 3U11IV iba.
George Paine lingered in the " snuggery
" with her new found friends and
getting "warmed through," as she expressed
it, until she noticed, with a start
of apprehension, that it was beginning
to get dark. "Dear me!' she exclaimed,
"1 had no idea it wasgetting so late. I
positively must go."
At that very instunt there came a
of fVio d/mr fhA masculine George
4U|/ UW bUV Vtwt* ?? sprang
to open it, and who should march
in but?Aunt Mary."
"Well, I am astonished, George Paine!"
was the good lady's first exclamation.
Then, recovering herself, she apologized'
to the gentlemen for her rudeness and
sank into a chair completely overcome.
"Oh, do explain it to auntie!" cried
George Paine, appealingly, to George
Matthews.
"Madam," said the young man, addressing
Aunt Mary, "it certainly is my
duty to explain how myself and my
worthy uncle so summarily made the
oi>nii?int?nr,n nf vonr niece." Aunt
Mary settled herself to listen, with a very
aggrieved expression of countenance.
However, in less than five minutes the
whole matter was clearcd up, and the
good lady was joining with her niece ia
voluble expressions of gratitude. "What
can we do, sir," she cried, "to show how
greatly we appreciate your bravery and
kindness?"
"Allow me to escort you ladies home,"
replied George Matthews, gallantly, with
a smile and a bow.
"And me, too," broke in Uncle Ben.
Very naturally, it happened, on the
* v # rr U
way tnrougn tne neias xrom mc.c dcu ?
snuggery to the old manse, that the two
olderly people drifted together and the
two Georges weie left to follow behind
?a privilege of which they availed
themselves, nothing loth.
"I hope we shall see each other again,"
said George Matthews, in a low voice, as
they parted.
"So do I," answe-ed George Paine,
franklv. "I want to catch that big fish
that pulled me into the lake, and perhaps
you can help rae<"
'I should like to try very hard," exclaimed
her companion.
, Six weeks later, on the very spot
where George Paine had had her adven '?
-? a?
ture wilq me moabicr unu, tuc oomu
boat was floating:, George Matthews idly
toying with the oars, Georgo Paine trying
to pick the tiller ropes to pieces.
''Well, we haven't caught him yet,"
said George Paine. "No,
we haven't?that's true," assented
George Matthews. Then followed
a long silence, which showed how little
the young people cared whether they
caught the fish or not. Finally George
Matthews broke the silence. His voice
troubled slightly.
"Don't you think it is ridiculous that
there should be two Georges io this little
town?"
"Yes?I do."
"And?and, you know, there might be
only one if wo chose."
"How so?"
"Why, if we two should?should
marry we would become one, wouldn't
we?"
"F-e-s.'l
"And will you marry me?" He was
kneeling at her feet now, his hands
clasping hers, his voice passionate with
earnestness. "Darling," he pleaded,
"you know I love you better than life.
Yoq know I cannot live without you 1 Do
not, do not say there is no hope forme!"
George Pain lifted her tear-wet eyes
and looked into those of her lover.
That was all the answer be needed. me
next moment the happy girl was clasped
to his breast.
Aunt Mary and Uncle Ben assured each
other that they had xnown all along just
how it would turn out.. "After all,
there's something in names," quoth
Uncle Ben.?New York Mercury.
A Monster Ship Raft
Mr. Hugh R. Robertson is building a
great timber ship, which is to bo towed
from Is ova Scotia to New York. The
New York Herald says that when completed
her dimensions will be: Total
length over all, 000 feet; width, 54 feet;
depth, 3S feet. She will be constructed
of about 25,000 spruce trees and pieces
of piling, the sticks average thirty-eight
feet in length, running up in size from a
diameter of six inches at the small end.
The ship has no hold, but her hull is a
solid mass from keel to deck, rounding
up fore and aft, as the boss carpenter
says, "in regular shipshape."
The vessel will carry six masses, eacn I
built twelve feet into the hull and fitted
with spring stays snd shrouds. She will
be square rigged, with fore and aft trysails,
and will be fitted with windlass,
anchors, rudder and full steering gear.
The foremast head and mizzenmast head
will be fitted with a crow'a nests, cach
supplied with a powerful, self-feeding
lump, capable of burning for thirty days,
so that in the event of the craft being
temporarily abandoned at sea she will
give timely warning by night to all approaching
vessels. She will carry a crew
of twenty men,for whose accommodation
a large house is to be erected on the
deck.
Tt- !nfnnrla^ t/\ OmnlrttT ft Tinwprflll
lb id luicuutu IW vu*|/ivj W .. ?
steamer to tow the craft to New York,
with probably a smaller steamer as tender!
and Mr. Kobertson is confident that
the voyage can bo accomplished in much
shorter time than if h.s logs were arranged
in the form of a raft.
A Blind Man's Remarkable Faculty.
Blind Bobby Maxwell, who for nearly
his whole lifetime had worked about
trains aud car yards, was buried a few
days ago, from his home in Philadelphia.
"Bobby" was totally blind, and never
*- **1~ ?It i Ortrtl/^nnf VltO ^natli
met Willi lUC SllgUVCStatUUCUlr, uin uvuw
having been a natural one.
i Maxwell was (>1 years of age, and was
| first employed a3 a brakeman on the old
j Philadelphia and Trenton Railroad.
I About thirty-two years ago his sight becaaic
so bai that he was compelled to
j give up th:it branch of railroading and
I mif tn wnrk in the vard at Kensintr
too. In a short time ho tecame totally
blind, but still kept on working. His
regular employment was sawing wood
for the engines, but he often employed
himself in assisting his wife, who was a
car cleaner. Maxwell had a happy faculty
of stepping from one train to another
and in front and between moving
trains, depending entirely on his sense
of hearing to guide him. This perception
he had cultivated to a wonderful degree.
He could readily tell his friends by their
footsteps, and would step out of the way
of an approaching person as readily as if
he had t?een gifted with perfect sight.
?FhHadeljjhia Record.
p
WOMAN'S WORLD.
PLEASANT LITERATURE FOR
FEMININE READERS.
Mrs. Cleveland's Stationery.
Mrs. Cleveland uses different kinds of
stationery, according to the character of
the note. Sometimes she uses very small
note paper with "Executive Mansion"
priuted in blue letters at the head of the
paper and the upper left hand corner of
the envelope, ana seals it with white
wax stamped with her monogram: "F.
F. C." On another kind of note paper,
small and linen-finished, she has only
hfir initials in small cold text. A third
style has the words: "Executive Mansion,
Washington," in small silver letters
on both envelope and paper. Her favorite
paper is blue tinted, and has in one
corner of the paper the national shield
in colors and the words "White House"
on the envelopes. This she uses for particular
friends.?Ma il and Exprus.
Brieht Maiden Ladies.
In my own limited circle of acquaintances,
and trusting to the memory of
the moment, Bays a writer for the Philadelphia
Pres*, I can count twenty-three
maiden ladies ranging variously all the
way from thirty to sixty year of age.
Several of them are teachers in private
or public schools; others are literary
women; others the proprietors or heads
of dressmaking and millinery establishments,
and several are ladies of leisure
and of smaller or larger fortune. Taken
all in all, they are among the brightest
and best women I know to-day or have
ever known. Taken all in all, they will
compare favorably in comeliness of person.
strength of character, refinement,
and attractiveness of manners, various
capability and soundness of character,
with the best twenty-three married ladies
of my acquaintance, and I do not
count social or intellectual nobodies in
this line.
Alligarors for Hat?.
We have seen birds, frogs, kittens,
rabbits and puppies' heads, to say nothing
of all the nowers there are, all the
kinds of feathers ever worn by any kind
of bird, ana fruits as well as grain and
grass, and all the vegetables, from tiay
cucumbers to carrots and cabbages, so
that now it would almost seem as if there
were nothing else in tne worm emit couia
be utilized as a new garniture for hats
and bonnets, says Olive Harper in the
Schenectady Star, and yet there is a new
style of trimming which has already captured
the female heart, and that is baby
alligators.
They are not many so far, but those
who have them are the envied of their
sex. The young alligators which are
used for this style of trimming are from
six to ten inches long and must be the
real thing, stulled and with bright glass
eyes and arranged so as to appear to be
crawling up the front trimmings of ribbon
bows. Their pretty mouths are
opened wide and they have a most encacrincr
expression of innocent mirth on
their "gentle countenances. We have
seen real stuffed lizards before on hats,
but the alligators are now the fascinating
style and add another charm to youth
and beauty.
Origin of Earrings.
By the w4y, talking of earrings, says a
writer lor the Jewel rJ Weekly, puts me
in mind of an Eastern legend which I
heard a short time ago about their origin.
When Hagar ran away to escape the
wrath of Abram's wife, so the story goes,
Sara vowed that if her handmaid ever
returned "she would cause her to be mutilated,
thinking thus to destroy her b:auty
and prevent her causing any further domestic
infelicity. Time, however, had
the effect of so cooling Sara's wrath that
when Hftgar came back and pleaded with
her she decided to forego her vangcance
and restore her ex-handmaid to favor.
Bat an oath was not a thing to be trifled
with, and as Sara had solemnly vowed
to mutilate Hagar she was in a quandary
to know how to do this without fnjuring
her or marring her fair face. Finally
she hit upon the expedient of piercinsr
a small hole in each of Hag.ir's ears, ana
it is said that Abram, to oiset the pretty
handmaid's punishment, presented her
with two beautiful jewels to suspend
from the holes. Her appearance thus
adorned so excited the admiration of the
other women of the tribe that the wearing
of earrings soon became general
amuug uiciu.
*
A Man-Milliner Discnsses Ladies.
Mr. Worth, the celebrated man-milliner
of Paris, recently lemarked to a reporter:
"I find that every country produces
beautiful faices, graceful figures,
lovely dispositions, as well as their contraries.
J suppose Russian ladies are the
greatest dancers in the world; English
women are justly proud ot their perfect
complexions; the French lead the world
in real elegance, and the American ladies
impress me by the easy way in which
they wear gorgeous gowns. Nothing
overwhelms them. You ask me if fabulous
sums arc sometimes paid for dresses.
It is quite impossible to matce any estimates
as to that. If you begin putting
on gold thread, jewels, etc., of course
there is no limit to the cost. Some years
ago, a Peruvian heiress paid us one hundred
and twenty thousand francs for a
single gown?one hundred and eighteen
thousand francs being the cost of the
laces alone. Keccntiy, we sold a cloak
for forty-five thousand francs, of which
forty-four thousand francs went for the
fur. We count among our patrons the
ladies of all the courts in the civili7ed
world, that is all, with a single exception.
Queen Victoria has never honored us with
her patronage. The other day, a telegram
came from the Empress of Russia:
.'Send me a dinner dress.' Nothing more.
We are left absolute freedom as to style
and material. Not that the Empress is
indifferent in the matter of dress, quite
'the contrary. She will sometimes require
that all the ladies' costumes, at a
certain ball, shall be pink, or red, or
,b!ue. And her own toilets are always
"masterpieces of elegance. The point
is that she trusts our judgment rather
than her own."?Argonaut.
An American Girl's Invention.
In a remote but decent part of Boston
has lived for about fifteen years an English
family of rather unique interest.
The father served in the Civil War, and,
being a partial invalid in consequence,
receives a small pension, which docs not
go far towards supporting tbe family,and
he can do little besides draw his pension
and suffer his constant pain. The mother
is a small woman, with large brown eyes
and pale checks. She has a toilsome life,
indeed, and has done all sorts of work to
try and ckc out rne muiuj 6U|jjwh. *
daughters, the elder somewhat noted in
her neighborhood a'j a beauty, and a
small boy mnke up the balance of the
household. Although desperately poor,
the family have been as proud as Lucifer
anrl seemed bound to accept no more
charity than was absolutely unavoid-1
able, though there are plenty of i
well-to-do people around them
who would gladly have contributed
in their aid, as every member
of the family commanded respect. The;
have come to be known even outside
their narrow circle from their constant
efforts to better themselves, trying now
this thing and now that. Everything
failed until a short time ago; but at last
the family has struck something that
will give them ease and comfort if not
comparative wealth. The handsome
daughter is credited with the discovery,
which is simply a new method of treating
photographs in reproduction. Her name
has been given to it, and her work is getting
more and more circulation e ery
day with, of course, an increased flow of
dollars to the family treasury. She has
cnr>tiroH a rtnianf nn Viap nrnPAM. All thfl
photographers are puzzled by the work
and would like to have it for use in their
business, as they see that this girl is getting
as many orders as she can fill at the
food price of $3 for each cabinet reprouetion.
The pictures are the same size
as the original cabinet photographs, but
softer and more pleasing in tone, and are
mounted under thick plate gla?s with
beveled edges. How she makes her copies
nobody has been able to find out as yet,
but in the slang of the day her work
"goes."?Springfield Republican.
A Chase After * Baby. -
A certain Bath sea Captain entering
the port of New York telegraphed his
wife at Bath to join him at the metropolis,
prepared for a sea voyage. Accordingly
a day or two after the arrival
of the message saw the wife embarked
upon a through train from Bath to Boston
accompanied by an infant child
scarcely two years old. This car was
shunted to the end of the Portland train
at Brunswick, and leaving the child
asleep upon a seat in a car, the Captain's
wife seized the opportunity to nil tne
baby's bottle with milk in the depot
restaurant. *
44 There is many a slip between the cup
and the lip," and why not the bottle?
While the mother was intent upon her
errand the train slipped qu'etly out of
the station, and when the mother
emerged from the restaurant door it was
fast disappearing under Spring street
ifAfTiuna nan Kncf imanrmp thp.
UI luge, lUUtUUI O U?u WVSJK nui*g.uv ...?
distress of this anxious mother. Eagerly
she explained the situation to the sympathizing
group of railroad men who
gathered around. Baby and purse containing
all her money and ticket were in
the fast disappearing train.
A hurried council followed and a plan
was instantly formed. Old No. 23, "the'
Brunswick," was side-tracked, waiting
the passage <*f the train just cone. Fortunately
her nose was pointed up river.
Uner Thompson (I give the name as it
was spoken in the narrative), the station
* 1
baggage master at tne lime, ran liaauuy
to the engine and askei her aid to overtake
the lying train. The genial Charles
Evans, ever ready to aid the cause of any
female in distress, volunteered to catch
the robber. Hastily filling the firebox'
with wood from the tender, whilej
Thompson was assisting the woman to'
mount the engiiie, with a hasty command
to the switchman to "give us the
Maine line," with hand upon the throttle
No. 23 flew quickly over the switche
and commenced her run.
A n emntv nncn'nfi rhfuinc a heavv train
up 4'0a(c Hill grade," which extends
four miles straight away from Brunswick,
naturally has an easy task, and before
they had covered more than half
of that distance thej couid see ahead tho
object of their pursuit. Having then the
train in view did our hero pull her wide
open and sail in.
Now, he nears the train! To sound
his whutle calling the* attention of the*
train men to the chase and thereby stop
the train, wasnotpart of his programme,
fearing that he might run over them
should they suddenly stop. 80 quietly
running aloug, the roarof the train deadening
the pursuit, he is soon immediately
behind them. Then his tender?for they
are running backward, understand?rubs
against the rear platforn of the train,
and while the engineer holds her there,
'',1 ? ? iU? mAiman AVOI> f hfl
inompsou U.VJ131B iud nuuinu VTW1 mw
tender, down upon the platform of the
car containing the baby, still f&st asleep,
the mother clasping tightly the bottle of
milk which coqt such effort and anxiety.
?Lew'iston {Me.) Journal.
m Fashion Notes.
Black lace over dresses will be as popular
as ever.
Lace dresses are appropriate for any
kind of a dress affair.
Shirt fronts or blouse vests are a feature
of many of the new basques.
Tinsel runs through all the new trimmings,
of whatever description.
School ulsters for little girls are made
of rough plaid cheviot with coachman's
capcs.
Silk gloves are promised witn Kid tips
to the fingers. They will be durable, if
not beaatiful.
The newest polonaises are very long
and fully draped, the entire effect being
that of slenderness.
Silver hairpins and combs are in high
favor, and an endless variety of fancy
designs is applied to them.
Chantilly lace is a texture of great
beauty, moderately durable, and will be
worn this season by young and married
ladies. _
T? m'KKaho an/1 oil Ira fVllfl
J 11 LUC iCUlill U1 iiwvuo uuv? wnuw ?m.w
is ft season of demi-tints; nearly every
shade or color is used in connection with
another.
Narrow gold braid is frequently sewn
into the necks and cuffs of gowns,
instead of colored silk, canvas, or cuffs
and collars.
Very dainty are the elegant little
bonnets of cream lace straw, of white
Neapolitan braid interwoven with white
beaas here and there.
Ostrich feathers, particularly in ombro
effects, aro very popular, as are also flowers.
The mo3t nqtural and truly artistic
in flowers, are the Art Roses.
A basque as new as it is ugly has round
points front and back, unrelieved by
either postillion pleat or opening, is
bound to the last extremity, and reaches
nothing at the hips.
With a lace slip of black, another of
white, and silk petticoats of different
colors, the economical dresser can outdo
the chameleon in the matter of change,
at a very trifling expense.
xv>iito vpate rontiniiA to be the raore.
Now white serge in tucks or boxpleats
is all the wear, but we are threatened
with white pique ones, stiffer than coats
of mail, for wear with wash gowns.
The latest novelty in summer silks is
the embroidered China silks, not h?ndwrought
by the patient Chinese, but
machine embroidered in the looms of
France, in charming and varied designs
colors, and effects.
011? 1?ofa nrn vonr
J 1 110 lUr^C poiUtgo^uv uuiki u? v fv?j
fashionable in wide coarse straws. In
small shapes there are those with wide
turned up sides, and round shapes, the
back turned un against the crown. The
new sailor shape is also very popular.
Copper in all shades grows more and
more the rage, and is combined in stripes,
[ chocks and borderings, with white,
I black, suede, tan and various brown
shades, while the mixtures of its own
tones are aa numerous as they arc indescribable.
FINGER RINGS.
ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF THESE
MYSTIC CIRCLES.
Carious Superstitions Connected
With Them in Ancient Days?
Rings of the ^Elizabethan
Era?Engagemnt Rings.
Ring-lore is a curious subject, says the
New York World, and leads one into all
sorts of historical highways and by-ways
searching for information. In former
times, according to an old writer, it was
esteemed highly improper for single or
unmarried persons to wear rings, "unless
they were judges, doctors or Senators."
For all but these dignitaries
snch an unwarranted ornament was considered
an evidence of "vanity and
pride," and was looked upon as a great
piece of presumption on tne part of the
wea*er.
Another authority dwells upon the fact
of affianced persons being allowed this
honorable decoration, and cites it as an
evidence of the high honor in which the
estate of wedlock was then held, that
those about to enter it might be so
adorned. But while finger rings have
figured conspicuously in the political,
court and ecclcsiastical history of all
times, it is their record as love tokens
and marriage emblems wnicn lenas cue
greatest interest to these pretty or priceless
(a* the case may be) baubles of
mankind.
Traditions tells that the first of these
mystic circles was invented by Prometheus
and forged by Tubal Cain. An
Arabian legend relates how King Solomon
possessed a made ring that he once
upon a time dropped inadvertently into
the sea, whereupon his wisdom immediately
abated, so that for forty days
he abstained from administering justice.
At the end of that time the missing jewel
was found in a fish and restored to the
monarch, who straightway became once
more exceeding wise, and continued so
until the end of his days.
The history of ring superstitions is
notably rich. In moat cases, where they
were supposed to possess especial significance
ana virtue, these qualities abided
in some particular stone, or symbol, or
inscription. But "charm rings" were
fabricated in various ways and of
different substances, which were believed
to establish their ellicacy. In Berkshire,
England, there was a popular superstition
that a ring made of a piece of communion
silver wa3 a sure cure for fits and
convulsions. The same diseases were
also cured by a ring formed of five silver
sixpences, collected from as many
bacnelors, who must have been kept in
ignorance of the rmrpose, for which the
contribution was levied, else its efficacy
would be destroyed.
Rings fashioned from coffin hinges
were looked upon as a specific for cramps.
And so on, through a long list of ills
and illusions, the ring has constantly
been put forward as a remedy or preventative.
The "jimmal ring" was
originally a love-token merely. Herrick
writes of it:
Thou sendest to me a true-love knot, but I
Returned a ring of jimmals to imply
Thy love had one knot, mine a triple tye.
Later this became the ring of the
espousal and was intended to typify com
mumty Oi lmerusi, uiuituui iuiucaiaiiv/c,
endless devotion, and all tho other attributes
of the estate of matrimony in its
most ideal perfection. The orthography
changed slightly also, and it was written
with a (4. One of these gitnmal rings,
supposed to belong to the time of Queen
Elizabeth, was found at Horsleydown, in
Surrey, England. It is preserved in the
British Museum collection, and it has
been described as follows:
'The ring is formed of twin, or double
hoopSj which play within one another like
the links of a chain. Eeach hoop has
one of its sides flat, the other convex,
and each is twisted once around, and surmounted
by a hand issuing from an embossed
fancy-work wrist or sleeve, rising
somewhat above the circle ana extenaingin
the same direction. The course of
the twist in each hoop is made to correspond
with that of its counterpart, sothat
on bringing together the flat surfaces
of the hoops they immediately
unite in one ring. On that hand of
which the palm is uppermost is represents
a heart, ana as the hoops close the
hands slide into contact. The whole
device thus represents a triple emblem of
love, fidelily and union?the whole being
of fine gold and weighing two pennyweights."
In mairiage, according to the ancient
ritual, the husband began the ring business
by placing it upon the bride's thumb
and putting it successfully upon the next
two tingere, pronouncing ior eacu one a
person of the Trinity, until, with the
hnal "AmeD," the fourth finger was
reached, and there the wedding ring was
suffered to remain.
The Greek Church ritual directs that
the ring be placed upon the right hand.
Among the Anglo-Saxons a ring blessed :
by the priest was given to a maid at her
betrothal, and she wore the same upon
her right hand until her marriage, when
it was removed by the bridegroom;
again blessed by the priest and then
Elaced on the first finger of her left
and.
There is au old belief dating back to
ancient Rome that a small artery runs
from the third (or fourth counting the
thumb) finger of the woman's left hand
directly to the heart. Modern anato- j
mists have exploded this sentimental
hut it fnrmerlv obtained the widest
credence, so much so that in eases of.
sudden seizure, or 4 Wound," restoratives
were applied to this finger in the j
belief that its direct communication;
with the heart would convey the healing
influence more quickly to the seat of (
life. Also old physicians mixed their I
potions and medicaments with this fin-,
ger because, as an old chronicle affirms, |
"no venom can stick upon the outmost j
part of it, but it will otfend a man and '
communicate itself to his heart." i
Founded upon this belief was the custom j
of wearing the wedding ring upon that:
fing?.r. Other reason? have been assigned ;
for so doing, but this is, without doubt,
the primary one.
The fashion of betrothal, or, as we
phrase it nowadays, "engagement," rings J
varies from time to time, and always depends,
or should do so, upon the purse
of the donor. Where there are no limita- {
tions of this sort his taste, if it be perfect,
will lead him to choose a diamond
solitaire, and of the finest he can afford, j
a small and pure stone being altogether i
preferable to a big "rock*' of doubtful
color. Some prefer a ring set with three J
stones, generally a sapphire set between:
two diamonds, uttoers eciect a ruuy or (
an emerald, which signifies a promise of :
happiness. A few choose pearls, but
there is a prejudice against these jewels,
as they are aupposea to typify tears.
They are also too perishable to become
emblems of love which, in its first glow
at least, is always understood to be indestructible.
Their beauty is very precarious,
being easily dimmed or <4aged,M ;
as the lapidary phrases it, by qontact j
with impure air, while acid annihilates
them completely, like the famous one j
which the fair Egyptian, "brilliant sor-!
--r*
ceress of the Nile," dissol red and drank
to her imperial lover ages ago.
Onlj the wedding ring remains nearly - \i,
the same through all time. The Roman*
made theirs of iron toexpress endurance,
and baser metals hare been used for this
purpose from time to time since; but the
ideal marriage token, exquisiteiy described
by an early English poet, has
not and cannot be improved upon?it is
the ring of purest virgin gold, neither
toe heavy nor yet too slender. It is
softly rounded over, so that there are no
sharp edges, and if you suspend it by *
silken thread (as the child on the hedrthrug
has done with her trinkets) and smite !v it
softly it wiH ring out ah indescribably
sweet sound which no other metal gives
forth. If you haven't heard this fairylike
music try the experiment, and having
once heard the true ring of the true
metal, you will sever forget its sweetness
afterward, and you will realize that no
other token is so fitly symbolic of a true
heart's devotion; while for the " poise "
of the ring, no words are more appropriate
than Herrick's lines already
alluded to:
And as this round
Is nowhere found
To flaw, or else to sever,
So let our love - -
As endless prove,
And pore as gold forever.
mm
The Art of Shoe Manufacture.
"Shoes are an important product, in- * .
deed," said the proprietor of a large
boot and ehoe factory in New York city.
The gentleman was quite willing to give a
Telegram reporter points and went on
to do so.
When the skin of a calf after coming
from the tan yard is to be prepared for
shoes for men it is split by machinery
into three sheets. The outer division,
which is where the hair gresv, is technically
called the "buif," the middle part
is called the "split," and the part nest ' i:
the skin the "flesh split" or "veal calf."!
Of these three the veal calf or flesh split
is the most valuable. The next in point!
of value is the buff, and the centre sheet.
or sjilit is the worst leather that' can be'
put lhio a boot or shoe. It is more porous
and not so durable as the other di-'
visions, but when a shoe is ready lor the . ^
market it takes an expert to tell which'
of the three grades of leather it hat been
made from.
Horse hide and cow hide are treated in the
same way, the divisions being k^own'
OJ me same uaiues biiu u??iu" mu oauiu
relative values. This is for the uppers,
which arc supplied to the manufacturers
by men who make a specialty of preparing
them. The sole leather is delivered
to the manufacturer in lumps &nd he *
cuts it himself. The uppers are first
given by the manufacturer to a team of
lasters, who shape it into the form of the
foot. The lasters r^ake from $2.50 to
$3 a day, the lasting being usually done ^
by men, as it takes strong fingers to pull -J V
the leather tightly over the "last," or,
woodea model of a foot on which it is
shaped- _
Then the boots go to anothersquad of
men, who sew on the buttons by machinery,
and then to the heelers, who *?n|
attach'the heel*, also by machinery. The
heelers generally make from |3 to $3.50
a day, according to the quantity and
mialitv Af wnrkth?v turn nnf_Thfl finish- 'P?
era next take the shoes in hand and produce
the glossiness on the sides of the
sole known as burnishing, bj a machine
for the purpose. At this stage the shoe '
or boot would not be fit to wear. It ia
of a dirty yellow color and so porous
that water would soak through it almost -Z
like a sponge. The final and mostim- '*?
port ant process has to be gone through,
which is the polishing, by means -of -J8a
which the pores are filled up, rendering
it waterproof, or to a certain extent
waterproof, and giving it a more sightly
appearance.
Good polishers are few, as an instinctive
faculty for the business seems to be
required. Good workmen mafce .rrom ft
to $5 a day, according to the grade of
the shoe. The main ingredients of the
polish are beeswax and lampblack, but
nearly every workman has his own.
formula for preparing it and keeps it a
secret. There are also many hundreds
of women employed in the shoe factories ,
who do such work as making buttonholes,
at which they can make *5 or $6,
and sometimes $7 a week, if they can
run the machinery very rapidly. The
same processes of manufacture are applied
to women's boots that are applied
to men's.
Clay and Other Pipes. v;^
"I doat know as I ought to tell you
about it," said a well-known New York
dealer to a Sun reporter, "but it is a fact
that the soft white clay pipe,which costs
only a penny, is the healthiest and cleanest
of all the pipes now iu use. Of course,
the meerschaum is very good when it is :v
new, but it becomes unhealthy the older
it gets, consequently it is not tit to smoke
after it has been used six months, if you
have any regard for your mouth. All
pipes absorb, more or less, the nicotine,!
which is a poisonous juice, and when the
pipe becomes full it unsuspectingly finds
its way to the mouth and stomach. I " T am
acquainted with several persons who,'
having used the same pipe tor a number
of years, have finally, become seriously
- -* -I ?ill nn
poisoned. rue ciay pipe .wm was.
twice as much nicotine as the meer- >
schaum, consequently they should not
be used more than a dozen times,
especially when the tobacco is of a
greenish color or at all damp. Now, in s
regard to wooden pipes, they ought never
to be smoked more than two months, and:
in many cases not more than one month ^
but this is according to the strength
of the tobacco people use in them.
After the white clay pipe comes the
meerschaum; then, third,comes the hard
earthen pipe; fourth, comes the wooden
pipe, then the porcelain pipe, and last,
and the worst, the metallic pipe.
The dealer was asked. "Do many
persons use cigar holders?" .
"That fashion." the dealer replied,
"is gradually goiDg out of style. I
T ** vAiinrr nr VPHT
1 notice It 13 timri IU mj
old men that cigar or cigarette holders
are now sold. They are not very
odoriferous or handy to tuck away in the
pocket, and generally they are too expensive
to throw away after using them
only once."
Clot Ahead of the Law by Saicide.
Fred. A. Markley, farmer, of Virginia
township, Ohio, commuted suicide
under peculiar circumstances. His father
left him u life interest in the home
farm, and at his death it was to go to his
heirs. In the meantime he became involved
in debt and his creditors asked
the Common Pleas Court to issue an
order to sell his life interest, which was
granted, the creditors buying said life
interest, and thev in turn reatin# the
farm to other parties. Markley would
not vacate willingly, and stated on several
occasions that he would commit
suicide before he would permit his wife
and children to be ejected. The Sheriff
went to eject him, and Markley went to
the barn, stating that he would get tte
horses and wagons to load the furniture.
Fifteen minutes later the oldest son followed
him and found him dead. He
successfully defeated his creditors and
left his heirs in (bar possession.?Cleveland
Leader. *
^ y