Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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JACK AJTD I. I was so tired of Jack, poor boy, And Jack was tired of me; MoBtlonged for sweets will soonest cloy; Fate ba3 been kind, and wo, Two foolish spendthrift hearts, mode waste Of life's best gifts with eager haste. OI tired we were. Time seems so long When everything goes well! The walls of borne rose grim and strong; Like prisoners in a cell We clanked our marriage chains, and pined For freedom we left bohind. Tired, tired of lovo and peace were wo Of every day's calm bliss. We had no goal to win, since he Was mine, and I was his; And so we sighed in mute despair, Alia wisnea taco otaur imy wuuio. But sorrow came oue day?the pain Of death's dark. awful fear; O, then our hearts bea- .varin asain; Then each to each waf dear. It seemed that iifo could nothing laok, While Jack h.vt me and I had Jackl ?Kew Orleans Tiincs-Dcmocrat. THE CASTAWAY CHICKS. Throe little chicks, at close of day, Left mother hen, ar.d rotimod away; Two cosily nestled inside of a shoo, With one on tho outside to scan tho view. As tho tide came in and carried tho thoe Over the waves like a small canoe. The chickens, oh, the poor little things. Wished themselves back under mother's wings, But the waves were high, and all were drowned; Tho three little chickoiis wore never found; Bo may their fate be a lesson, I pray, To all other chickens who run away. A IAD MARRIAGE; ?on.? The Heiress of Lawrence Park. A STORY OF ABSORBING INTEREST. BY MRS. E. B. COLLINS, CHAPTER I. . . A GHOST FEOSI THE PAST. Firelight; rosy firelight streaming over the costly apartments of a luxurious library, a very symphony in olive,' walnut, and old gold. The lamps had not yet been lighted, but the fire burned warm and red be-1 hind the silver bars of the wide grate, and spread its rosy glow over the velj vet carpet and costly furniture. Over the bay window, with its olive velvet and white lace curtains, yet un-* drawn leaving a glimpse of the night without. Over the marble busts of Shakspeare. Milton, and Byron, upon their velvet-' draped brackets. Over the two rare paintings hung upon the tinted walls, "JBelshazzar's Feast," so vividly depicted by the touch of some old master that you trembled involuntarily at sight of that realistic "handwriting upon the wall." The other, a copy of that weird, grotesque creation, Holbein's "Dance of Death." The firelight flickered over all, and j strayed lightly over the face of the j man who sat ulone in a low walnut ann-chair before the fire, his head bent# his eyes fixed upon its rosy glow. Outside, the wiud howled shrilly, and the rain beat persistently against the window panes, tapping lightly for admittance. 03 in the distance, the thunder muttered hoarsely, while occasional blue sulphurous lightning flashes cut the inky sky in twain. A night of storm and tempest; but ti-nv r\f al nm art + a wif.Tinnf. woro nnf iiug ?? C* 1 V* V*giUbUV0 IIAVUVMV ? v* v **ww as fierco as the tumult within that man's breast. He arose to his feet at length, with a low moan, which smote the silence like a blow. "My God!" he panted, brokenly; "how long must this torture last ? Can I never target ? Am I doomed to carry this awful burden with me to tho grave? "For eighteen years?eighteen long, hard years I have hoped for oblivion; but, try as I may, I cannot strangle memory! "I cannot forget the woman whom I have wronged! Even in tho midst of my prosperity, in my palace home, with everything that heart can wish, I cannot forget. Poor. Gabrielle! "Bah; what a fool! What a driveling idiot I am! What if the world should euspect that I, Gilbert Lawrence, of Lawrence Park, have a skeleton in my closet ? a hideous, grisly skeleton, which mocks me at every turn! "No, no! "Let the dead past bury its dead!' There is no resurrection for Gabrielle St. Cyr! She is dead long years ago, and I " He came to a sudden halt, the words dying upon his lips in a gasp of horror. Above the howling of the wind and the beating of the rain, above the distant booming of the tliundor, a sound had reached his ears. A hand was upon the fastening of the window reachincr to the veranda, and slowly it was opened from without. The wind rushed in with an eerie wail, and then! He wheeled about with a wild cry; a woman sprang lightly over the sill and confronted him. She stood there straight and erect, in the center of the fragrant, firelit room, a slight, slim figure, with dripping garments "clinging like cerements," with the rain drops trickling slowly down, and falling in pools upon the rich velvet carpet. I A pale, stem, resoluto face, a woman of 8ome eight and thirty years, of rare brunette beauty; eyes like black velvet, hair soft and dusky, features delicately chiseled; a face of cold, white scorn. She was all in black, dingy,_ faded garments, torn with tliorns ana oners, and hanging in disorder about her. An old bonnet, the ghost of what had once been a bonnet, had fallen from her head and lay forgotten upon the wet carpet; her hands clenched each other convulsively. A pair of great, black, liquid eyes were lifted to the face of Gilbert Lawrence with a long, long look, which made him shiver. "Gabrielle! My God! You?" ha E anted feebly. "In the name oi eaven " She lifted her right hand with an imperious gesture. fcSilence 1" she commanded, sternly. "I have not come all inis distance?1 have not forced my way into your presence, Gilbert Lawrence, to listen to your lies! j "You thought me safe?lost?gone to destruction, away off in that Southern city; but I have arisen like an unquietj spirit conjured up from space to denounce you! Do you know for what ourpose I have come ?" . _ ; Once moreTielihivered, like one with a chill. "What?" he gasped hoarsely. She draw a little nearer and lifted her solemn eyes once more to his frightened face. L oome \q_ lull jobT aheiaii. V in a slow, impressive tone; "to take youv miserable life." "Gabrielle, listen to me! You shall " "I will not listen! I have had enough of your false words and false vows, your traitorous kisses and wicked lies. "Jfor years 1 have known you, in all Sour hideous vileness, and I would not; elieve you " "But, Gabrielle" (he caught her slender wrist with a firm grasp, and gazed into her dark eyes), "for the sake of?< of" (his eyes dropped guiltily)? "Adele!" a swiit nush snot over tne woman's beautiful white faoo, for an iustant, and then died away into ghastly pallor. Her lips curled scornfully, and hei1 voice was laden with bitterness, as she make answer: "Little has thought of her troubled yoa, Uiluert JLawrence, au cnese long, hard years! You deserted wife and child, and left us to perish! She was reared in?in an almshouse, and now" ?(she caught her breath unsteadily, and her eyes were suddenly averted? "she earns her living as a danseuse in a theater! Fit position for the child of Gilbert Lawrence, the merchant prince! It is for her sake,. to avenue ner wrongs, cnat jl am nere to-mgnt u ?to kill .you!" She sprang suddenly forward, swift and lithe as a tigress. Something flashed in the firelight? something bright and glittering. He fell back with a groan of horror* and covered his face with his hands. Just at that moment, down the long corridor outside the door, came the rustle of sweeping silken skirts, the click, click, of high French heels, the sound of a sweet voice singing softly a selection from a popular opera. Gilbert Lawrences face blanched to a more gha&tly whiteness than before, while the woman turned swiftly to listen. "My God!" the man moaned feebly; "it is Ruby?my child, my little girl!" The hand that held aloft the flittering weapon fell. "Your child!" Her voice cut the silence like the hiss of a serpent. "Then you have dared to marry again I Gilbert Lawrence, you are a fiend! You wedded me ana leit me, your lawiiu wife, with a little babe in my arms; fled from your liome because you had tired of it, and had grown weary of me, and for long years I knew not where you were, how you lived, what your fate might be. But now I have found you, rich, honored, respected, with a wife, pcrchance, and a?a child; my curse rest upon them both!" "Your curse cannot injure her!" he muttered suddenly. ".Ruby's mother has been dead for years, and she, my beautiful daughter, is " Ho came to a halt, and the words faltered themselves into silence, as he realized the extent of the blow which had fallen upon his life?a blow which would smite the innocent and guilty alike. "Yes; what is she?"hissed Gabrielle, mockingly, her face full of fiendish triumph. "What is your daughter, Gilbert Lawrence? A nameles " "Hush!" He darted forward, his hand uplifted, as through to strike her down at his feet, his eyes glowing like coals of fire, his face set and stony. "Hush!" he panted madly once more. "How* dare you?" He paused, a3 a slight sound fell upon his ear. The silver door-knob was turned slightly, and a sweet voice called from without: "T>or%o ! Ata vaii Silence, utter silence in the firelit room. With a baffled look upon her face, Gabrielle crept to the 'window; oncel there, she hesitated. "I shall soon return," she said, bleakly. "You cannot escape me, Gilbert Lawrence." Sho slipped through tlie window; it closed behind her, she vanished in the night and storm, and the darkness hid her from sight. Gilbert Lawrence staggered to the nearest seat and sank feebly into it. All the light had gone suddenly out of his life, all the color and fragrance. , He had done wrong?he must suffer for it; he must pay the penalty?an hwful penalty. Ho deserved it all, and he knew it; yet his heart "was sore and blo^dinsr as he thought of his child. "She ahall nevei Know, if I can help it," he muttered, hoarsely, setting his teeth sharply into his under lip with 1 savage determination. "She must irot know?my proud, innocent darling? for the knowledge would kill her. 1 would die to shield her from it!" And then, once more, the door knob was turned a little impatiently, and the sweet clear voice called softly through the kevhole: "Papa, are you asleep ? May I come in? I do want to see vou awfully." "Come!" was the 6ole response, the only sound that ho could force his -white : hps to frain 3. A slight pause, then the door swung swiftly open, and a radiant vision floated into the room. A girl of seventeen, a lovely blonde with golden hair, and eyes of such deep, dark blue that they seemed black; a graceful, willowy figure, a dazzling vision of beauty ? Ruby Lawrence. And, as her father's eyes fell upon the sweet, unconscious face, he muttered once more, under his breath: "She must not know the awful truth. J would die to defend her from the knowledge of my crime!" "What! All in the dark, papa?" cried the sweet voice, reproachfully. "I "waited outside for an age! I thought, lpapa?I aotually did ? that I heard some one in here talking with you. 01 course it was only the wind!" He shuddered visibly; but Ruby did not observe it, for she was busily occupied in lighting the gas. The great crystal and gilded chandelier was soon in a blaze of glory, and then she came and stood before her father. "Look up, papa," (in a sweet, pleading tone). "I want you to see my dress, and tell me how I look. You forget that I am going to the theatei to-night with Mrs. Chillingworth, in spite ot tne vma ana ram, xur iu is uuc last night of the now play. We have never seen it, and in the carriage we will be?why, papa, dearest?you are Uli" No wonder she thought so. His face was ghastly white, and he trembled like a man with the palsy. "No, no! not ill, only a little tired, pet!" he faltered. "I have some disagreeable papers to look over to-night, so I will not be able to accompany vou, but you will go with Mrs. Chillingworth, and?I hope you will enjoy yourbelf, my darling. Be happy while you may!" She folded her white arms upon'hei breast, with a meek, tragic gesturo, which ended in a gay little laugh. . "<&Pw,JLeall th&t toe badJ' she. cried. t ' with affected disgust. "Here 1 am, gotten up regardless of expense; for, papa, tins is my new costume from Worth's, you know; and yet, not a word of praise or disapproval from your lips. Do I look so very hideous, papa?" And she flashed about on one tin; foot, like a bright-winged tropical bird. A vision of beauty in an exquisite robe of violet velvet, with amethysts upon her breast and arms, and in her ears, and gleaming in the spun gold of her hair. A mist obscured. the father's ejea for a moment. "Hideous 7 My darling, you could never be that! Kuby, you are so beautiful that you take my breath away!" She laughed aloud, a sweet, rippling laugh, throwing her white arms about his neck and laying her satin cheek against his careworn face. He bent his head and showered tender kisses upon her forehead, lips and cheeks. Kisses to be remembered through long dark years to come. She flitted to the door, then paused, with a swift backward glance. "Good-night, papa, darling," she cried, gayly. "I shall look in upon you when I return, if it is not too late. You will b?> sleeping, but I shall not disturb you. And now I am off. Ready for the fray; and papa" (laughing iightly), "I feel in my prophetio soul that I 6kall meat my fate tonight !" He had arisen to his feet, and his eyes, full of deathless love, were resting upon the girl's beautiful, happy face. He held out his arms once more. "Ruby I" She was back again in an instant, the golden head upon his breast, the white arms flung around his neck. One long, last kiss, and he turned away. It was like a farewell. "Good-by, my child!" he said, softly, and as she went away the words came floating after her in a mournful echo, which struck to her heart with an unaccountable pang, and a cloud flitted over her sunny face for a moment. A ring at the door-bell warned hei that Mrs. Chillingworth had come. She picked up her white fur opera cloak, and threw it around her graceful shoulders; and, with her jeweled fan and a bouquet of white and purple pansies, entered the drawing-room, to receive her chaperon. Ten minutes later the carriage rolled away, through the stormy night, and Ruby Lawrence had gone to meet hei fate! And all this time no one had observed the dark form crouching outside the library window, drinking in the scene within, with wide open, stormy dark eyes. "While low under her breatb Gabrielle St. Cyr muttered sibilantly: "Thev who sin must suffer! A blow for a blow! A heart for a liearc I A life for a life !w [to be continued.] CURIOUS FACTS. The English language has 200,OOf words. In India a medical student's hair turned white during an examination. Wood can be sawed in veneers only one two-hundredths of an inch thick. The weight of the heart is from eight to twelve ounces. It beats 100,000 time? a day. If all the telephone wires in this country were stretched in a continuous line they would go seven times around the globe. The latest fad in photography is the portrait stamp. It is the size of a postage stamp, and is gummed ready to apply to letters. In Berlin heavy wagons arc not allowed on certain streets. In Paris any cartload of rattling material must be fastened til) it can't rattle. The record for hard-boiled egg-eating is held by a young man named Canary, who once disposed of forty-two eggs in forty-five minutes. What an Ohio farmer plowed up and took to be the bones of an ancient teD feet in height turned out to be the skeletons of two five-foot men. The sweetest thing King Solomon knew of was honey, but in these day that delicacy is positively sour compared to three or four dilferent compounds. The French factory of Matois is the only one in the world where glass large and perfect enough for the lenses of a big telescope can be successfully cast. Alfred S. Ividder, of Portland, Oregon, inherited $50,000 four years ago. He lost it at poker, and when his last SoOO went that way recently in Richmond, Va., he blew out his brains. Belgium is a poor place for physicians. A writer to a medical journal published there says that they have the care oi three-fourths of the population, get nothing at all from one-half of their patients and very poor pay from the rest. In 1C87 the sea retired from the shores of Peru, and returned in mountainous waves, which destroyed everything on the coast. In 1726 the same phenomenon took place, and only 200 out of 4000 inhabitants of Callao saved themselves. There were found recently in the heart of a big red oak, cut down near Hickman, Tenn., the "three chops" wherewith the original surveyors of the country blazed it, and over which were the rings indicating seventy-five years of growth. The latest crank prominently reT.fM.+o/l ie *lio mnriefnnf* rrnnlc in N"f!TO ? ? York city who sublimely offers to allow himself to be bitten by a mad dog for and in consideration of the sum of $500, relying on his precious madstone to effect a cure. Under what is known as the Union of Calmar, Denmark, Sweden and Norway were united in June, 1390, under Margaret, Queen of Norway and Sweden, "the Semiramis of the North." The union continued until dissolved by Gustavus Vasa in 1523. For several years there was a standing offer of $10 for a partridge's nest containing more than twelve ogeje, the records at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington giving that as the greatest number of eggs of that species to a nest. A party of Worcester (Mass.) girls recently won the money by finding a nest with fifteen eggs. The reason why fishes and mollusks living more than three miles under watei are able to bear a pressure of several tons is that they have exceedingly loose tissues, which allow the water to flow freely through every interstice, and thus equalize the weight. When the pressure is removed they perish. ' All grain in California is put up ii sacks, holding from 100 to 120 pounds, and which cost from seven to eight cent* ?ac$L I V' JEYPOKE. PECULIAR SIGHTS IN INDIA'S FINEST NATIVE CITY. The Houses and Shops?Camel Caravans ? Elephant's and Humpshouldered Bullocks?Curious Street Scenes. The province of Jeypore, says Frank G. Carpenter, is in the northwestern part of India. It is a day's ride from Bombay, Dot far oS from the borders of Afghanistan and some distance south of Cashmere and the Himalaya Mountains. It has a ? .1 a. _ i population auuui us luijgv us tutio ui Ohio, and it's Rajah's income amounts to $2,000,000 a year, The capital is the city of Jaypore, in which I am writing. It is said to be the finest native city of India, and it is certainly like no other city I have ever seen. It is bigger than Omaha, Denver or Kansas City, and is laid out as regularly as the city of Washington. Its main street is two miles long and 120 feet wide, and this is intersected at right angles by other streets of the same width and the whole is cut by narrow streets into rectangular blocks. The roads are better macademized than those of nny city in the United States. They arc as hard as stone and as smooth as a floor. The houses on the main streets are regularly built, and some Rajah of the past laid out the city and made the propertyholders build after fixed regulations. It is more like a Spanish city than an Indian town. The houses come close to the sidewalks and they have balconies over them with oriole windows jutting out at the second stories above arcades which run below from house to house; they are almost altogether two story buildings, and the painting of the whole is a delicate pink. Imagine miles of pink houses with lattice-work windows, through which you may now and then see the eyes . of high caste Hindoo damsels. Let nut- I brown fingers here and there clasp the I latticc-worK ana tnrougn a larger noie iec here and there an arm peep out. In some of the balconies you see turbaned men and boys sitting dressed in the richest of garments and beside them Hindoo maidens, their faces covered with shawls and their eyes peeping out through the cracks. Bolow in the decades are shops in which, sitting cross-legged with goods piled around them, arc merchants selling the thousand and one things used by the people, and out in the street rushing here and there, moving along leisurely, now chatting and now talking business, is the A CAMEL KIDEU. most motley throng of native men and beasts you will find in any city. Here is ? 1U*1A flAi-rnn rvf /tQKIolo 1 nn fT.l U UbHIU vaiavuu v/i vtviuviv 4vug *v&&v,**7 gaunt, humped animals ridden by barelegged men in turbans who bob up and down as the camel rocks its way along. Many of the camcls are led and the drivers ride them with a rope fastened into their noses. They sit on the hump and poimd the camel with a whip or a cloth. There is one camel ridden by a woman. Here is one carrying stones. Great long flags are tied on bcth sides of his hump and he goes along with his lip down, pouting like a spoiled child. Here is another being loaded with lumber and as the rafters one after another are tied to his back he blubbers and cries like a baby, and as you look at him you see the tears rolling down from his proud, angry eyes. Here is one with a turbaned soldier on his back and there is another ridden by a boy. On up the street you see an elephant. It belongs to the Rajah, and its rider is one of the servants of the palace who is taking the beast out for exercise. Here are thousands of bullocks with humps over their shoulders, the sacred cows of India doing duty as pack horses. Their backs are loaded with panniers, and they are carrying along hay, stone and merchandise. Here is one ridden by a turbaned Mohammedan, whose long beard and long shoes turned up at the toes atfroM-. vnnr pvp a? hp crops bv. Here are W4WVV J V??? * J W " ' """ ? " ~ horses which prance along. They came from Arabia, and among them are some of the best steeds of the world. As you look at them and their riders you have no doubt of Jeypore being a rich city. What gorgeous costumes! These riders wear gold embroidery enough to lit out the diplomats at one of our President's receptions. There are gold chains on their necks, and their arms and fingers are heavy with gold. They have gold embroidered turbans, costly gold vests, and the bits of their horses are often of silver. They sit very straight as th?y ride, and by the stirrup of each runs a groom now clearing the way for his master and ever present for fear he might want something. Here is a herd of donkeys loaded down with panniers so that only their legs peep out, and the loads seem to be walking away bodily. They are no bigger than Newfoundland dogs, and their drivers, bare legged, pound and yell at them in Hindostanee as they drive them along without either bridle or rein. The crowd on foot is as gay as that on horseback, and your eyes grow tired in trying to catch and distinguish the strange character? you meet. Here comes a party of singing1 girls dressed all in red and gold, singing strange songs an they dance through th-: streets. They are not bad looking, and tb<nr limbs are loaded with anklets and bracelets. Here come some Mahometan maidens. They are linelooking women, but their dress is hideous. There are working women, and in some places these splendid roads are being repaired. Here low caste women are breaking stones, and there you see a dozen of them going along with baskets of broken stone upon their heads. They throw it upon the road and a corps of brown-skinned men are crushing it into bits with stampers. As they do so a water-carrier with a skin full of wnter UDon his back,and his hand on the month of the bottle, throws a clear stream upon it and the whole becomes a mortar, which, when dried, is as hard as the floor of a cellar. You see these water-carriers everywhere in India, and they water the I streets of the country. They carry the .. .-v.; . i rater for natives and peddle it from house Jo house. You may see dozens of them here at Jeypore, with their bottles, made Df the whole 6kin of a pig, and as they {>ass you think of the scenes of the Scripres. The best time to see Jeypore is in the evening. me ran afmlflcTay blazes her s with tropical brightness and everything glares with its splendor. As it sinks toward the west the air becomes cool. The people come out and the whole city hums. Along this wide street for two miles booths are erected, and upon the sidewalk itself hundreds of merchant* come forth and spread out their wares. y^tlt " m j . A JEYPORE CARPENTER. Different classes liuddle in groups. Here for a block there are nothing but shoes and turned-up slippers of the Mahometan, and footwear of satin embroidered in gold is spread out for sale. Here is a score of brass merchants, and there is a block taken up with the sellers of vegetables. Out on the side streets you see carpenters sitting and sawing, and walking through long aisles of Hindoos who arc selling the gaudiest cottons you come to the cashmere cloth merchant and haggle for the price of a shawl. The merchant has his wares spread out on the ground and dressed in his turban and gown he squats with his boy clerk besido him. His stock includes shawls worth thousands of rupees and some which can be bought for a few dollars. He asks three times what he expects to get, and in case you object is willing to throw up a coin and let head or tail decidc the bargain. Most Americans buy shawls in this part of India, and after a sale is made the merchant invariably demands that you write a recommendation for him in his note book. This he shows to future travelers, and I find scattered over India the autographs of noted Americans. At Delhi I found Grant's autograph, and the merchant who had it under a recommendation stating that his wares were good told me he had been offered 100 rupees tor it, and that he would not sell it for 100,000 rupees. James Gordon Bennett states that he "finds a certain man's shawls good and he supposes they are cheap," and the merchant who owns the book tells me that Bennett bought a dozen cashmere shawls, saying he wanted to use them for making undershirts. These were of the kind called ring shawls, so tine that you can pull a whole shawl through the wedding ring of a lady. It must be nice to have an undershirt which you can pull through a ring, and in the case ?f a man who travels with his extra clothing in his hat I can see where the advantage comes in. The Rajaha's place is in the centre of his capital. It covers a great area and tho r\n1ar>? nrnrrlori its flnwi'ner rivers of 1"*IWVV ? o j r wat 3r,formed?by fountains spui'ting out of a stone bed, would be large enough for a farm. His Majesty is now in Calcutta, but arrangements had been made for my visit, and a note from the English Secretary, Major Hendley, gave me a dark-skinned palace guide auc\ I was shown through court after court of marble and taken through room after room furnished with rich Persian carpets and with satin-covered chairs and divans of European make. In one palace there was an immenso billiard-room and in this and the room adjoining the skins of tigers and leopards were scattered about by the hundred. They lay in great piles on the floors. They were hung on the walls and some of the divans were upholstered with them. I went through room after room filled with such skins, and I was told that the beasts were all killed by the Rajah, who is very fond of tiger hunting and who is an excellent shot. I was shown the outside of the palace containing the harem, and the arrangements for for keeping it cool struck me as rather peculiar. Outside of the main hall and running along one length of the palace was a series of great Tanning mills not ?rorl Vitt fho Amerifyin UUlltVU buu^n UObU WJ W" ~ - ? A HTXDOO WATEIt-CAIUUER. farmer. These were turned by men, ana they thus kept pumping up draughts into Che rooms -beyond. A Salt Lick. From a log two feet or more in diameter saw a block two and one-half or put'for stock to iick. The advantages of this arrangement are that horses and cattle cannot upset it, hogs and poultry cannot reach it, and it will not be used for other purposes and left out of nlace.?Farm and Fireside. Sir Henry Thompson, the famous London physician, whose popular works on hygiene have made him famous everywhere, regards artificial teeth as an illadvised aid to the aged, since- it enables them to eat meat at a time when it would j be better to adopt a vegetable diet. j -." ii 2 . i i ji- v ' ... A A'-ii'.i'i : " : ' . ' ' >' ' ' ' ' Her First Biscuit. -ro idSi 3 J :p\ jXAPTfljjjjlW <' i I'J forr;.Tisil' ^ l' 1 B/ I ?New York Herald. a Carriage Stopped by a Snake. Captain B. B. Harriman, a commercial man of Chicago, who arrived in Denison, Texas, from the Indian Territory the other night, tells one of the most remarkable snake stories on record, says the St. Louis Globe-Democrat. . Harriman left Paul's Valley in a double carriage. In the gloaming he arrived at the banks of a small stream, -which he proceeded to cross. When he reachcd the opposite bank of the stream his carriage was suddenly stopped, and all of the exertions of the horses to move forward proved unavailing. The captain looked to the left side of the carriage and saw what he first supposed was a large stick interlocked in the hind wheel. He alighted for the pur* pose of removing the obstruction, but when about to lay his hand on the supposed stick it moved, and a hissing sound greeted liis ear. The captain saw that a monster snake, the size of a man's arm, was interlocked with the spokes of the , wheel. The first impulse of the captain was to fly, he was so terrified by the unlooked-for sight. The head of the monster was resting on the carriage, while the body twined in and out among the spokes, and trailed from thence to the ground. Captain Harriman procured a large stick, with one powerful blow of which he almost severed the head from the body of the monster. The snake extricated itself from the spokes and endeavored to crawl off, but the captain dealt it another desperate blow, which proved fatal. The snake measured about six feet in length, and had an enormous^head, larger than the palm of a man's hafcd. The captain severed the head from the body and endeavored to preserve it, but the smell was so offensive by next morning that he was compelled to abandon the intention. Captain Harriman told his story with great earnestness, and his veracity is not questioned. Dust-Conn ting Apparatus. A singular dovice has been submitted to the Royal Society of Edinburgh, Scotland. It consists of a dust-counting apparatus by "which its inventor is able to count 88,346,000 dust particles in a cubic inch of space near the ceiling of a room, and 489,000,000 in the same space of the gas from a Bunsen flame. There are, therefore, as many dust particles in a cubic inch of the air of a room at night when the gas is burning, as there are in-. habitants in Groat Britain, and in three cubic inches of the gases from a Bunsen flame there are as many particles as there inhabitants in the world. A Telephonic Church. The idea of a telephonic church is being carried outatTurnbridge "Wells, England, whore the pulpit of a Congregational church is connected with sixteen subscribers. We are told that "these included doctors and apothecaries, clerks working * 5?? ?X- 4-1 <4>Atrr? on inTrolM I LH various pur us uu, iuu iasv>4J) uu l lady -who has been obtaining consolation I from the telephone for several months, | and some lazy club men, who went into the thing presumably more from a spirit of experiment than devotion, Tori Commercial Advertiser, A Military Term. "Falling in."?Life, 1 t > M *g HOUSEHOLD MATTEES. - TOMATO OMELET. Scald and skin three ripe tomatoes,) quarter them; fry a quarter of an onionj (minced) in an ounce of butter, toss thei tomatoes in this, add a little water to> prevent burning; season with salt, a* pinch of cayenne and a very slight sus-* picion of mace; simmer until reduced taf a pulp. Break three eggii separately,! beat them together, put them in the frying pan, and when slightly browned onj the bottom prepare to fold the omelet j just before doing so add the tomato pulpi arid turn the omelet out on a hot dish, surround it with a little tomato saucei and serve.?New York Sun. } CHOW CHOW. Half peck of green tomatoes, two large heads of cabbage, fifteen large onions, twenty-five cucumbers, one pint grated horseradish, half-pound white mustard seed, one ounce celery seed, fifteen or twenty small onionii, white, half-! teacup ground pepper, farmeric and cinamon each. Chop the tomatoes, cabhonro ftninnu nnrJ MMvnmbers in small pieces and salt them down one night. In! the morning drain off the brine and put them to soak in vinegar and water for two days, drain off again and mix in the spices. Boil one and one-half gallons oivinegar and four pounds of brown suga? together and pour over them hot. Do this three mornings successively. The third time mix two half-pound boxes ol mustard with one-half pint of pure salad oil and add to it.? Washington Star. CORN CHOWDER. One pint of canned corn, chopped fine,] one and a half pints raw potatoes sliced} thin, three or four slices of salt pork,) one onioa, milk, flour and Boston cracks ers. Fry the pork in a deep kettle, andi then take out the pieces. Slice the onion: and fry in this fat; put in corn and potatoes in layers, sprinkling with salt and pepper, and dredging well with flour.j Pour over one generous pint of hot watery cover, and cook until the potatoes are tender, which will be in about twenty minutes. Mix two level tablespoonfuls of flour with a little cold milk, add it to one pint of milk and stir into the chowder. Split six Boston crackers, dip in i little cold water for a minute, add them; boil up once and serve. This makes a very satisfying luncheon dish, or it majj ' ' ' * be served as a soup course at dinner, io which case little else will be required^ save a simple salad and dessert?2faq York Observer. TURKEY SCALLOP. This savory dish was cooked by a ven-j. erable "Auntie," once the famous chej. i in the house of a wealthy Southern family. Make a pint of gravy from the bones and skin; chop the bits of meat picked from the bones very fine. Have ready a buttered pudding dish with a layer of dried and rolled bread or cracker crumbfc j add a layer of the minced turkey, and dot with bits of butter, seasoning with: salt and pepper. Moisten each layer with some of the gravy, with either milk or oyster liquoi added, and so continua until the^dish is full. Let the top layeB be of crumbs, seasoned or dotted with butter and moistened with the gravy or make a crust with crumbs wet with gravy, milk 01 oyster liquor, or all three mixed, beaten * up with two eggs. Spread it smoothljj over the top about a quarter of an inch thick; invert a pie dish over it and bakel in a moderate oven until it begins to bubble at the sides; remove the cover and brown. After you have partaken of this dish you will think the second state of that bird better than the first.?American Agriculturist. HOUSEHOLD HDfTS. Oil cloths will last longer if one or two! layers of wadded carpet lining are laid) under them. . ' To wash finger-marks from lookingglasses or windows put a few drops of ammonia on a moist rag and make quick; work of it. ' i Jelly bags should always be of white flannel. "When quite new they must bei well washed before using to get out all the grease of the wool. j Clear boiling water will remove teaj stains and many fruit stains. Pour the water through the stain, and thus prevent it spreading over the fabric. Always keep carbolic acid convenient.' for use. It is one of the best disinfectants and insects destroyers. A small quantity need only be applied at a time. When the rubber rollers of a wringer1 become sticky, as they very often do after? wringing flannels, rub with kerosene and] wipe dry, and they will be nice and) smooth. Lay a piece of thick canton flannel, under your tablecloth. Even coarse! napery will look a much better quality with a subcover than if spread directly) oyer the bare table top. To keep green vegetables for a day or two sprinkle with water and then place on1 a cellar floor. Fruit should not be kept) in the cellar, but put out singly ana stood' in a dark, dry, cool place. j . Corn salad is a small green leaf, whichj resembles that of the sown lettuce, and isj 6erved with a simple French dressing.j It wilts quickly, consequently must not bo dressed until serving time. j To cure felons mix one ounce venicef turpentine with one ounce of water, and! with a smooth stick mix and spread a) thick coating of it around the finger ;j bind on with a cloth and renew daily. Inks for rubber stamps or type can bo made as follows: Sulphate of manganese,; two teapoonfuls; lamp black, one tea-; spoonful; powdered loaf sugar, four tea-i spoonfuls. Rub into paste with water, j Javelle water, used to remove tea,! coffeer grass and fruit stains from linenr; is made thus: Mix well in an earthen! vessel one pound of sal soda,five cents'l worth of chlorido of lime and two quartsj of soft water. To take ink stains out of a mahogany table, dip a feather in a spoonful of water mixed with eight drops of nitre and apply to the stain. Rub with a wet cloth immediately. Very deep stains require a stronger solution. Oil for lubricating guns may be purified by putting a few shot into a bottle with some olive oil. Expose it to the sun,and in a few days a quantity of cloudy matter will separate, and fine, clear oil that will not clog may be decanted off. To make a cement for closing crevices in stove plates, etc., mix finely-powdered iron, to bo had of any druggist, with water-glass, to a thick paste. Coat the crevices and then build a fire which will melt the cement and combine it with tha surrounding metal firmly. ^