The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, October 22, 1890, Image 2
?*J5AID.
BT D. t. HEATH,
"Ton cannot dla," she 6aid;
Twould pierce the hear: of the dread angel,
Heath,
T? twine hie mystic, Amaranthine wreath
About bo dear a head.
I cannot have it so. I
Sere is a secret chord that doth entwine,
closely knitting that dear heart and mine
That both at once mast go. I
"Tbo6e bright eyes cannot fade;
How have 1 felt their witchery; as alone
1 looked on theia, their charm possessed mj
own,
And I was not afraid."
Palestine, Ohio.
t _i_ T .
liOSl liliict,
-OB,THE
BITTER AND THE SWEET, i
A Tale of Two Continents.
i
BT MBS. NINA LAWSOV.
CHAPTER XXXVn.
As Lenora was struggling with her elf
to keep from falling, a policeman
came round the corner, in sight of
Lenora, just in time to see her fall.
He hurried to the spot and spoke to
her, but received no a iswer. He gently
touched her with the t^e of his boot,
but she did not move.
"EhI Another one, dead drunk;
that's the fifth to-day for me. The old
fellow will have his hands fall to-morrow."
The policeman then rang for the
patrol, and Lenora was soon fastened
in a dirty, dark cell. She did not re- |
cover from her faint for some time,
but when 6he did she was lying on a
cold, damp floor in a little dark room.
"Help, help, help!" rang out from I
that dark, cold comer. Bv and by a
coarse-looking man came along with a
lantern in his hand.
"Who calls for help and what's want- 1
ing?" He was then opposite Lenora's
cell. 1
"It was I, sir, and please come and
r?TT7rnl rlot?1t onlrl
ICb iliU UUb MX vmo u n i u* .
room."
The voice sounded so sweet, so dif- |
ferent from what he had been used to
hearing, that he went to the door of
the cell through curiosity.
By the light of the lantern Lenora
could now see that she was a prisoner,
but when or how she came to be one (
ho oould not tell She got up and (
walked to the door of the cell, where (
the light from the guard's lantern ,
shone directly on her pale, beautiful
face. '
"Please tell me'where I am and why
I am here ?"
The guard looked at her for a moment
only, but could not speak; he j
had never seen such beauty or heard |
so sweet a voice before, and now that
it should be in a prison cell, no woDder ,
he did not know what to say.
"You?you?were put there under (
charge of drunkenness, and?and?are '
to be tried in the morning, miss."
- "" "I drunk, sir, that is a mistake; tho
last I remember I was walking along ,
the street, and everything began to go
round and roun.l. I was not drank,
sir, but I bad nothing to eat since
morning, and the wind blew bo cold?
and "
There she 6toppe.l, for her voice
trembled so that she could not speak,
and great tears came into her eyes, she
leaned up against the iron bars and
sobbed as if her heart would break.
"Oh, darling, can vou see me now.
Don'* feel sorry for I hope to be with
yon soon. I wish they had left me out
in the cold to die, and then I would
low be in heaven."
The guard stood at tha door and
heard what she said, he believed that
6he was innocent of the charge.
"Don't cry so, miss, I can't help
your being here, but I'll bring you a
blanket and pillow t) lie on to-night,
and I'll bring a lamp, too, for it's
awfully dark down in this corner; don't
mind about it to-night, for I guess
you'll get out in the mornin'."
He then went away, and soon returned
with the little comforts that he
thought she ought to have; Lenora
took them and thanked him kindly;
ehe had not yet noticed that her ring
and watch were gone, but wheu she
went to see what time it was she
mifsed them. How terribly she was
frightened, and how her heart ached, 1
for she was afraid they were stolen!
By and by the guard came down
near her cell, and she called him and
told him about her jewels.
"Don't be worried, miss; I'll get
them back for you in the morning."
Lenora could not sleep all night,
and when morning came she could
scarcely hold up her head; but after
he had eaten her breakfast (and the
guard saw that she had a pretty good
one for a prisoner) she felt much
better.
At nine o'clock she was taken from
the cell to the court-room. Before she
left the cell she veiled her face, in the
hope that no one could see her.
There were quite a number tried before
it was time for her case. She had
been sitting there perfectly still, not
listening to anything that was going
on, or thinking of anything but her
great trouble.
Finally her case was called and she
was told to take the stand. Of course
she was startled, and did not know
what the Judge meant; then they told
her it was time for her to be tried, and
as she rose to her feet, in some way
her hat and veil was knocked from her
head and fell to the floor. She did not
seem to notice it for sTie was too much
frightened to think of anything or
realise where 6he was.
Tha room was full of all kinds of
people, anxious to hear the different
cases and see the different prisoners.
Lenora's dress was plain, close-fitting
black, and seemed to suit her style of
beauty; her long golden curls * were
*>arelessly tossed about, some lying on
her shoulders, while others hung down 1
the back to the waist.
As she took the stand a murmur of
admiration rang through the room.
All were surprised and fascinated with
the beautiful little prisoner, and as she
turned her great, 6ad, dreamy eyes to
the Judge h9 did not know wnat to
say. After clearing his throat considerably,
he said:
"You are charged with drunkenness;
are you guilty or not guilty ?" J
"1 am not guilty, sir." And every- |
body in the court-room believed what i
she said. I
"Yon were seen reeling on tfce street
last night, and finally fell over in the
gutter. How do you account for that ?'" j
"I was very coid and exhausted from
want of tometliing to eat. I was theD :
going to a pawn-shop to pawn the only j
dres? I tad except the pm I have on, -
and I grew ?o weary that I presume
I fainted, and then some one found me
lying there."
"How does it happen that jou were
hungry and that you were going to
pawn your dress; had you no money?"
"I had but tea cents, and could not
get work to earn more."
Here the Judgedfrew open a drawer
in hia desk, and held up Lenora's
jewels.
"How does it happen that you had
these expensive jewels, and so many?
Have you no home, no parents?"
Tjpnora had eiven the name of Min
nie Hall; she could not think of dis?
gracing the name that was 90 sacred
to her by hearing it in a court-room,
and now when the Judge held up those
jewels and asked her if she had no
home, her lips quivered and the
tears came to her eyes. She did not
know what to say now, and the sight of
the watch made her think of her lo3t
love. Finally she answered:
"Xo; I have no home, no friends, no
parents, and no money; but I had a
home once, and then a terrible, dark
iav came,, and now that is all I have
left,"
"Where was your home in this city?"
She shook her head, for she could
not speak
The Judge cleared his throat again,
as if he was going to say something,
when a fine-looking gentleman with a
kind, honest face stepped up to the
Judge's stand and said something very
low; the little prisoner was then released
and led from the court-room by
this same gentleman. That was certainly
a d*v of fate for Lenora, for this
.1 " T TT?
gentleman was juuwj ei ujut, wnucu;
Df Chicago, but who then had a good
practice in New York, and still had in his
possession the papers that would place
ber in the position she inherited at
birth.
Gertana had painted a small picture
Df Lenora, and when she placed the
papers in his hands she gave him that
picture. As soon as Lenora took the
stand he recognized the (ace, only now
it was a little older and very pale; he
always carried that picture in his j
pocket, in the hope that he might find
the original some day.
The name, Minnie Hall, somewhat
confused him at first, bat when he saw
the diamond ring that had been Lenora's
mother's, and saw the initials, E. E.C.,
in the inside, he knew that the prisoner
was the long-lost heiress!
As he left the court-rojm he said to
Lrnora:
"I want you to oome with me, for I
im your friend, and I have something
to tell you; besides, I shall ask you
many questions. I hope vou will trust
me and answer them in full; your jewels
svill be safe where they aro for the
present."
He then drew from his pocket the
picture and handed it to the astonished,
frightened woman.
"You are well acquainted with the
lady who painted that; turn it over;
ber name is written on the back."
Lenora obeyed, and there was plainly
ivritten. "Gertana Girindani, friend of
the little heire&s, Lenora Churchill."
Those great, sad, dreamy eyes rested
>n those few lines a lon^ while, and
:hen she looked up at the lawyer with
>uch a strange light in her eyes that it
jrought tears to those of the lawyer.
"Come with mo now to my ofHce,
:liild, and I will tell you all about
:his strange affair, and I want you
:o tell me all about yourself; I guess
'rom the sad look on your pa'e little
:ace that you have had much trouble."
They then took a cab and drove to
Law} er Hyde's office. He there told
Lenora how he came in possession of
:hese papers, and reDeated to her all
ihat Gertana had tofd him. There was
10 room for the little love-wife to
loubt now that she was no longer
i penniless girl, but an heiress of great
vealth. Oh, now she then longed for her
ost husband, that she might show him
;he proofs that her past life was un?
ipotted, and that she had been cruelly
tvronged.
"Now you know who ycuare; tell
ill about yourself, and what you have
i>een doing since you were taken from
Chicago."
How hard it was for her to go over
the dark, miserable past, and tell all;
ret she did. The lawyer was considerably
puzzled about the strange manner
in which Lenora and her husband
were separated, and he did not then
toll linr liin nninirvn of tllA matter. She
bad told him" plainly and exactly ev?
jrything, just as it was. That night
ivas not quite so dark for Lenora, for
she occupied the guest's chamber in
the lawyer's beautiful house. She remained
there three or four weeks, and
by that time everything was arranged;
she had purchased some new and beautiful
dresses, suitable to her station as
Lady Churchill, of Churchill Castle.
One month from the day she was a
prisoner she left New York for England,
in company with the lawyer and
tiis wife. She insisted so upon their
lccompanying her that finally they
igrcel, aiid spent a few delightful
months at tlie grand old Churchill
Castle.
How beautiful that old home was,
tvith its long, shaded walks and drives
md its great airy halls and beautiful
parks, and how happy could its mistress
be if she had not loved and lost
:lia.t love.
Lenora's companion in her new homo
was an old aunt, and in time they became
fondly attached to each other.
Lady Churchill became more beautiful
?ach day, and soon became a great
Favorite with all the nobility, but there
was always a shadow of sorrow about
her, and she treated her many admirers
in a fripudly but formal manner. It
iras well that sho did, for the happiest
Hays of lior life were yet to como.
CHAPTER XXXYJIL
As Baymond Bristol sank to the floor
after that terrible interview with Jeanoette,
faithful old Tom came up the
stairs and savr his master sitting there,
while a strange, wild expression rested
en the thin, 6ad face. Tom knew that
something was wrong and quickly put
Ray on his bed and sent for the doctor;
the groom met him him on his way to
the mansion, and he hastened on as
fast as possible.
"Ah! Mr. Tom, I thought as much;
I knew that it would come, and now
you must take the very best care in
the world or your master or you will
lose him forever. He has been under
a severe mental restraint for some time
past, and to-day has had some new excitement
and has a severe attack of
brain fever. Ah! but he is a sick man,
Thomas, and I will send in to-night
the best nurse I can find in the city.
Yon stay by him now, and I will go to
Miss Nathan's room and see how she
is."
He did see how ehe was; the moment
he Baw her eyes he knew that
medicine would do no ffood. .
"Good-evening, Doctor, yon are very
j kind to come in to see me, but 1 shall
( need von no more, for I shall leave
! this world to-night." ;
"While there is life, my dear, there
ia hope."
"Yes, in mo3t cases; but in mine
thexe is none. I do not care to live any
longer."
"You should not talk so, child. One
so young as you ought to have many
years of pleasure yet."
"Yes, I ought to have had a bright,
happy future, but all is over now.
J How is Ray ?"
"He is feeling as well as could be
I expected under the circumstances."
"I hope he will be his old self again
soon, and enjoy life as much as
possible."
The Doctor remained a little longer,
and left some powders to make Jeannette's
short stay on earth as pleasant
as nnssiblfl. He then returned to Ray's
room and remained "with him until
quite late.
How awful still and gloomy was that
grand old home the next day, and how
dark and lonely seemed the future for
poor Bay.
The day before Jeannette died the
Doctor received a letter from Mrs.
Bristol, and her health was no better.
He knew that it would kill her if he
were then to wire her the state of
affairs at her old home, and Jeannette
was buried months before the heartbroken
mother knew of her death.
Ray was very sick for a long, long
while, but when he began to get better
he grew strong rapidly, and soon as he
was able he left that gloomy house
and went after his little girl.
It was difficult for him to make tha
old couple understand at first, and
they had grown so attached to the
3weet little thing that they did not
want to give her up; but Hay promised
that she should go there often and
see them, and he would come with her
sometimes.
Eay remained some trme at the old
quiet home in th? lovely valley, and
every day he could be seen wandering
over the field and through the woods
! with his little girl on hid shoulder.
He thought the little white sun-bonnet
Aunt Jane had mada for her quite Decoining,
and it was always fastened securely
over those pale-gold curls whenever
she was out in the sun.
The anxious husband believed, or
rather hoped, that his wife still lived,
and as soon as he had been able, after
that terrible sick spell, he employed a
number of detectives to scour the
country in search of her. Time went
on, but no news came of her, an:l he
had almost given up in despair, yet,
ah! how one will hope, even to the
last moment; and so did he; thousands
of dollars were spent in that search,
but to no purpose as yet.
During his stay at the old Bice
farm he had heard, over and over
again, every little thing she had ever
done, and when the old couple told
him of the papers that belonged to
her, and who she was, it almost made
him wild when he thought of the manner
in which Jeannette had accused
her; but now the evil-doer was dead,
and he knew that she had suffered for
her criine3.
[TO DE CONTINUED.]
His Serious Mistake.
Old Boggs?"Ah! One of the fair sex.
Whew! what a size. I ought to make an
impression here."
Li ) mm ..j!g>
| 'A, -l 1[
.. | iiti
Cut circumstances changed his wind.
?New York Herald.
A Iiohel^iMacOo fiib In.
The remains of Baron Yon Strauss, an
Austrian nobleman who had been leading
the life of a tramp on the Pacifio
coast, were recently found in the bottom
of a canon in the Moran Mountains by
two hunters. One leg was gone and both
arms were torn off. Both hunters had
seen the unfortunate during his wanderings
about the mountains. The hunters
buried the remains as best they could and
mailed the papers on him to his native
town.
He left his ltome in Buda Pcsth, Austria,
two years ago to make a tour of the
world. His father's estate was in process
of settlement and his start was made
with the first installment of his inheritance.
His first stop was in New York,
and from there he went to Chicago,
where he lost a good deil of money in
t real estate speculations. He went to San
Francisco last spring and lost more
money. When near the end of his purso
he wrote home for funds, but his appeal
to his relatives only resulted in the discovery
that his brother had misappro|
priated and sold the family estate and
fled to India. The Baron worked his
way to Spokane Falls aud then gave
himself up to the life of a tramp. Ho
? t tr> _1.a_.-_ 3
maac several enoris 10 ouiaiu auu nmu
employment, but he was unfitted for
work of any sort, and finally became i\
decided vagabond, living on the charity
of farmers and huuters. He was well
provided with fashionable and expensive
clothing, much of which he used to reward
people who fed and housed him.
He was last seen climbing the mountain,
and in answer to a question as to his
destination said he was seeking a lonely
place to die in.? Washington- Star.
Tailor?I really do hope you will
settle this little account to-day, 6ir. I
have a heavy bill to pay my cloth
merchant. Captain (calmly) ? Con!
found your impudence, you go and contract
debtt> and come dunning me to pay
them. ?iet oat, or 111 send for the po>
Uce."
GERMAN DUELS.
HOW STUDENTS FIGHT ON THE
SLIGHTEST PKOVOCATION.
Insults Not Necessary to Provoke
a Sword Contest?Proof of
Courage Not a Setttlement
of Difficulties.
A/ MONG the
^ many peculiar
4? ities of uer
j?H man student
Jj m life which call
^^2 ff l\ f?r comments
[J J l from the visrcl
iting foreigner
What I purS
pose in trying
to give the
p&l>y >|y- Cri|aj philosophy of
J$ JL the duel is not
Vgp^ So much to de*-**
^7* ^en<* cus"
torn, which
seems not to come up to the standard of
civilization, as to explain it. We must
distinguish between two kinds of duels
fought in German universities, unc |
kind, which is not peculiar to students
nor to Germans, is a contcst for life and
death to settle some serious difficulty on
some point of honor. This is common
to all nations on the European continent.
Even in this country such duels have not
yet quite disappeared. In Europe they
will not disappear as long as society
thinks it beneath the dignity of a gentleman
to bring certain offenses into court
or considers a man's honor stained by
insults for which there is no redress in
law. How powerful a hold this code of
honor has upon society is shown by the
fact that no military officer can keep his
epaulettes who declines a duel nr who,
under certain circumstances, docs not
challenge. To take a single instance, a
man like Ferdinand Lassalle (the Socialist
leader), who personally was greatly
opposed to the duel, felt himself obliged
to submit to the custom and died its victim.
This duel to the death may have
originated in a desire for vengeance; in
many cases it was undoubtedly an invocation
of a higher power to prove the
falseness q? the charge implied in the
insult.
The modern duelist, though the baser
feeling of revenge may often guide his
deadly weapon, has another philosophy.
It is not the destruction of his opponent
which he desires; he tries, by exposing
himself to tnc danger or DemgKiuea ana
wounded, to prove his coutage, which is
the first of manly virtues, and thus to
clear his honor. This is the reasoning
of society, which will not accept anyone
as a gentleman who declines to show his
courage in this way. Most duels are
fought for this reason , it is the condemnation
of socicty which is feared more
than the weapon of the opponent. In
fact, the weapons commonly chosen, pistols,
do not call for much courage. . The
danger is over in a moment; there is not
much chancc for a display of skill, and
experience shows that such duels very
seldom have u serious ending.
As a rule a duel with pistols is a game
of hazard; aiming is not permitted, and
one may be sure that oftcu the witne33C3
fail to put bullets in the murderous weapons.
So it is generally considered a
very harmless affair. The start in the
dust of the morning, the pretended secrecy,
the romantic spot generally chosen,
bring every participant'to the agrceablo
delusion that something extremely interesting
is going on, and the contestants
are led to believo themselves real heroes.
But there is hardly more chance for injury
in a pistol duel than in a journey
orer a well-managed railroad. Besides
1 .1
11113 li&&BlUUUd IHUI UV.WUX ui i.uc fszaivj
duel, which is due to the way it is managed,
the weapon itself Iapks anothei
quality for chivalrous contest: It oilers
no possibility for defense.
Fencing duels with any weapon are of
a more dangerous character and therefore
require more courage. Eveu when,
as in certain notorious French duels, the
first drop of blood drawn, no matter how
slight a wound is inflicted, ends the con
test, one has to look his enemy in tho
face for some time and see the blade,
ready to punish him, flash before his !
eyes. Tb<! most serious duel is that
fought with heavy curved sabres (Kruminsaebel),
which mostly inflicts severe
wounds. The (Kiel is generally continued
until one of the contestants is
unable to go on. Many d:e in conse
tZJO ngjj
A.STUDENT DUEL
quence or are crippled for life. The
successful handling of the weapon requires
coolocss, presence of mind, skill
of hand and an eye both sharp and
quick.
The last-named weapons or pistols are
choscn by German university students in
case of a serious duel. The challenged
one generally has the privilege of choice.
If lie is trained in fenciug he will, as u
rule, choose the saber. If his adversary
cannot handle the saber lie may either
changc to pistols or else time will be
given to train himself to fencing. Older
students, however, who belong to clubs
whose members are pledged to the acceptance
of any challenge ("unbedingte
satisfaction") are supposed to need no
training. But one must not think that
suoh duels for life or death are eutered
upon lightly. Before the adversaries are
allowed to enter the field of honor, a
court of honor, composed of representatives
of both parties, must have decided
that there is sufficient cause to justify a
jerious coutcst. To satisfy the law,
wliicli requires tiic seconas 10 uo tueir
best to prevent the duel, wheu both parties
stand ready tlic scconds on the spot
advise the duelists to be reconciled. This,
however, is a purely formal demand, and
a duelist would expose himself to the
greatest possible ridicule should he follow
this advice.
Although many things here said about
the serious duel hold good also for the
common students' duel, the latter, in
Germany, is not regarded as a duel at
* * " ' * ?1-J
all; inaeeu, it is not caucu su. iu> ??
man name, "measar," of Latin root, J
originally means the place measured off
for the duelists to stand upon so to keep
the right distance. At present most
people take it in the sense of a contest in
which the contestants measure their
relative strength. In fact it is not anything
more than a fencing match There
leed not be any ill feeling between the
idrer3aries. The challenge is brought
ibout in different ways. Two bands of
mionto frnm different Quarters.
where they have had a jolly night. Their
leated spirits easily enough bring about
i quarrel; a look, a meaningless word,
!ailure to give ample room to pass, being
luQicient to start one. Instead of engaging
t&en and there m a free fight, visit-*
ing cards are most politely exchanged
and the parties separate quietly to meet
again, weapons in hand, on the fencing
ground. A student who does not care
to wait for such an occasion, meeting
another whom he regards as about his
equal, -will politely inform him that he
desires a fencing contest with him. The
custom of causing this contest by inflicting
a slight insult, a so-called "touche,"
is more and more disappearing. There
are certain conventional forms which
clearly show its purpose, namely, to provoke
a challenge; for instance, one
student says to another: "You arc a
dunce," (sie sind eim dumraer jungc).
The one who is addressed in this way
hardly thinks of the meaning of these
words; he simply understands that he is
wanted for a duel. As it has often happened
in this method of challenging that
the contestants were of unequal skill and
strength, the provoked one became the
victim of a brutal superiority.
To-day most of the students' clubs
send a list to their rivals containing the
name of such members as are willing to
fight. The challenged club then chooses
out of its own number such as arc re
garded as the equals of the others to
meet them. This list may be corrected
several times until, in the judgment of
both sides, the couples are evenly
matched. All necessary provision i?
maae to prevent serious consequences.
The arms are rapiers, long, straight
blades half an inch wide, sharp on both
edges for about eleven inches from the
point. Only the chest, the face and the
skull are open for the blows, every other
"WOUNDED.
part, especially the eyes and the throat,
being protectsd. The contest take3 generally
fifteen minutes of. actual fighting
if a wound is not sooner inflicted which
call3 for the immediate attendance of the
surgeon. The latter is always present
with his professional utensils ready for
U3e. As no pauses are counted the time
the contestants staud opposite each other
often exceeds an hour.
As an educator this duel affords a test
of courage. In it the contestant shows
his mettle and comes out of it with
strengthened self-reliance, which often
in later life distinguishes him favorably
from those who have never gone through
such an experience. The pride that
some of these young men take in the scars
which deface their countenance hardly
deserves the sneir they so often get. It
rather shows their chivalrous mind. They
ire prouder of those marks of manly
character than of effeminate beauty. It is
a faff flint. nntcnrrlo nfpoirl nf the arnrn
of their fellow-students, overcome their
fear of pain and after fighting two or
three of these duels wonderfully improve
in their character and may be placed afterward
in the same rank with their most
courageous comrades. For it takes a
great amount of self-control for a man,
especially when he is bleeding with painful
wounds, to stand unflinchingly for
over an hour before his antagonist. "Unflinchingly"
is used here in its strictest
sense, for the slightest sound of pain or
movement of the baud or even of the
head under a heavy blow will bring disgrace,
both on him who bears himself so
unmauly and on his friends, for whose
colors he fights and who surround him
with anxious and tender looks. Besides
testing courage, these contests foster
self-control, presence of mind, self-reliancc
and a feeling of solidarity and so
serve as useful discipline for later life.
Duels of either kind never gain the
character of an exhibition. It is hard
for an outsider to gain permission to witness
them. Students who boast of their
victories in duels are not the most re
spected and no one who is not considered
a gentleman is allowed to take active
part in them.
It may seem strange that these duels
and many other things that students do
are more or less connived at by the authorities.
But wc should not forget that
in Germany the young maD, until he goes
to the university, that is, until he is eighteen
or nineteen years of a go, is considered
a mere schoolboy, without any freedom
at all; after the university life is
over the dignity of his officc or profession
leaves him far less freedom of movement
than men of any other calling. Therefore,
the few academical years are the
only ones given him in which he may enjoy
life to his heart's content.?L'rnest
Richard, in WatJiinqton Mar.
Lava Journeying Down Vesuvius.
The southern side of Vesuvius is now
a point of extreme interest to tourists and
men of science, not to mention hundreds
of Italian people who have a personal
3take in the progress of the mighty
-.tnnnwi /\f I r> if .1 Vl ?1 #" tC (l.HCinfT fmm
HIGUUi Ui iU'll vuvaw uv..*u0 wm* v?
newly opened chasm 500 miters in circumference.
It is threatening to descend
upon the flourishing vineyards of Bos- [
oorcnli, and the feasibility of diverting
the flow into a great ravine is discussed.
No one can get nearer the stream than
about seventy feet because of the unbearable
heat.?Times-Democrat.
Mrs. Humphrey Ward has sent $100
as a prize gift to the Association for the
Education of Women in Oxford, England.
The prize is intended to promote
independent research,and competitors are
ad\iscd to select a town to the records of
which they have convenient access.
A lie governess 01 ins uauy iuc
King of Spain, is Miss Davenport, an
Irishwoman, who has passed most of her
life in Spain. The appointment is worth
$3500 a year, and after five years' service
Miss Davenport will be entitled to a life
pension 0/ |2D00 a jear.
Transference of Yital Power.
A not uncommon cause of loss of vital
power is the young sleeping -with the
aged. The fact, however explained,
has been loog remarked, but it has been
most unaccountably overlooked in medical
practice. A noted physician saya:
"I have, on several occasions, met
with the counterpart of the following
case; I was, a few years since, consulted
about a pale, sickly and thin boy, of
about five or six years of age. He appeared
to have no specific ailment, but
there was a slow and marked decline of
flesh and strength and of the energy of
all the functions?what his mother very
aptly termed a gradual blight. After
inquiring into the history of the case, it
came out that he had been a robust and
plethoric child up to his third year, when
his grandmother, a very aged person,
took him to sleep with her; that he soon
afterward lost his good looks, and he had
continued to decline ever since, notwith
standing medical treatment. I directed
him to sleep apart from his aged grandmother,
and prescribed tonics, changes
of aiiv etc., etc. The recovery was
rapict.
It is not with children only that debility
is induced by this mode of ab-.
stracting vital power. The facts are
often well known to the aged themselves,
who consider the practice favorable to
their longevity, and therefore often illustrate
the selfishness which, in some persons,
increase their years. Those in good
health should never sleep with sickly
persons.?New Tori Ledger.
aaimon uau?m iu wneeis.
A novel mode of taking salmon is by
means of wheels. The wheels thus used
are very similar in appearance and construction
to those of stern wheel river
steamers,. and they are the cheapest and
most effective methods yet deviied for
catching their finny prey.
The wheel consists of nine arms attached
to an iron shaft, and these arms
are strongly netted in groups of threes
at their outmost ends. The shaft is surrounded
by a cone of wood, whose face
or widest part is on the port side. The
narrow part of the cone, or its apex, is
at the end of a wooden trough. The
wheel is pivoted on a gallows frame, and
can be raised or lowered out of and into
the water at will by means of block and
tackle.
The papdlewheel method of fishing can
only be employed in the rapids of the
river. When in use the wheel is submerged
about one-third of its diameter,
and is slowly revolved by the action of
the water. The salmon encounters the
wheels in swimming up stream, and are
by them lifted out of the water, thrown
against these cones and thence slido into
the troughs, down which they glide into
the receptacles prepared for them. In
the height of a good season a welllocated
wheel will frequently catch from
six to fifteen tons of salmon in twentyfour
hours.?i(ail and Expras.
Miles of Human Hair.
The hair crop annually required to
feed the hungry maw of fashion is almost
entirely collected in France, Belgium
and Germany. English and American
women rarely ever sell their hair.
Black hair comes from Brittany and the
south of France, as well as from Spain
and Italy, while light hair is the product
of Germany and the northern States of
Europe. The fairest-haired inhabitants
of the earth are generally to be found
north of the forty-eighth parallel of latitude,
and the darkest south of the fortyfifth,
while the belt between the two is a
kind of neutral ground, populated by a
brown-haired race. An eminent German
has undergone the enormous labor
of counting toe numoer or naira m iieuua
of four different colors. In a blonde one,
he found 140,400; in brown, 109,440;
in a black, 202,962; and in a red one,
88,740. What the red and black heads
wanted in number of hairs was made up,
however, in the greater bulk of the hairs
individually. It is to the fineness and
multiplicity of hairs that' blonde tresses
owe the rich and silk-like character of
their flow.
A SliOTrer of Honey.
Two days ago lire gentlemen of this
place drove away in a carriage, taking
with them gun3 and cooking utensils.
Bringing up about noon near a spring
in a dry canyon they kindled a fire for
preparing lunch. As soon as frying-pan
and coffee-pot began doing duty over the
burning fagots, honey, as good and pure
as bees hereabout make?in lumps from
the size of drops to gobs larger than
human fists?rained or fell into fryingpan
or coffee-pot, sweetening cooking
game and boiling coffee water. The
startled nimrods found that as the fire
was reduced the honey shower also diminished
and ceased entirely with its
subsidence. Not having vessels for saving
the honey, the 4tfuvored five" discoverers
of this remarkable phenomenon
decided to revisit the place a few days
hence for conveying away in proper vessels
the falling manna, of Avhich they expect
to secure quite a lot. The witnesses
of the shower are reliable, and, if
it demanded, will each make affidavit to
the above-stated facts. Their names,
furnished this office, are withheld by re
quest.?San Bernardino (Cal.) Courier.
Lumber From One Sugar Pino.
A few days ago A. J. Gliddea, of the
Lumpkin mill, cut do;vn a gigantic sugar
pine. The tree was so huge that particular
pains were taken in its measurement.
It scaled at the butt seventy-five
inches, while there were cut from it ten
logs. Two of these were each eighteen
feet in length and eight were sixteen
feet long. The smallest log was forty
inches in diameter. This gave a length
of 164 feet to the end of the smallest log
and the top was neariy 109 feet longer.
The tree scaled a little over 28,000 feet,
which shows it to have beeu one of th2
largest sugar pines ever cut ic California.
Mr. Glidden handles nbout 2,500,000
feel each year and has been handling
logs for twenty years, but this is the
largest tree he has ever cut.?OrociUc
{Cal.) Mercury.
Tlie Battcrnnt.
The butternut is one of the least
profitable nut-bc-aring trees, as it is less
known and the nuts less used than almost
any other variety, although it is
I still profitable togros-, and frequently
I doe3 well where other rut trees will not.
| Its wood is valuable for special purposes,
| though, the supply being necessarily
limited, other woods are new usea wnerc
! this would be if in larger supply. Being
I closer in its habits of growth, it does not
require so much room as the black walnut,
and can be planted about twenty
/eet apart each way. ?Ph Uadelphia
j Ledger.
/
TMPERANCK
A BOUZ PICTURE.
n i_ J 1 , ??? "nlotif fn H>
iu, uear uuj, jra, wuiv **? ??
For though we aid not hear
Your signal-whistle in the hall, i .
Nor footstep on the stair,
No need there was for yoa to knock.
'Tis six o'clock, you see,
And wo were but awaiting you
To "take a cup of tea V
Dear me! just hearken to the wind!
It is a fearful night!
The storm-fleads surely rage without,
But all is warm and bright
Within our pretty, cozy room.
Where round the lamp we three,
Mother, and you and I, will sit
And "take a cup of tea!"
Far see the table ready laid,
With all my dainty things;
The tiuy spirit-lamp a-light;
And how my kettle sings!
My own dear little kettle, that
At Christmas you gave me,
So bright it shines, it seams to say: ^
"Come. 1 take a cup of tea!'"
And see the fair home-picture, too,
XUJ uuubueu Hurtaco uisesi
Laugh, if you like, to hear me say
A simile it make*.
Each heart bears homo and loved ones
Pictured oa it. as you see
Them in the little kettle there!
Now?"take your cup of teal"
?Mrs. Jane Printer, in the Ledger.
THESE WAS TOO MUCH BUM AEOABD.
The Boston Herald, tells of a steamer
bound for the west coast of Africa that
iiad on board fourteen missionaries, four
hundred and sixty tons of gunpowder, and
something like ten thousand casks of rum.
In such delightful way our modern drillzs/cion
mixes up the things of tliis life with
the hopes of the next life. Tha poor savage,
however, will pay his money and take his
choice, but it strikes us that there was either
too much rum or too little religion on that
steamer.?JVeio York Herald.
A NATIONAL INEBRIATE ASYLUM.
"The project for the establishment ot M JM
national inebriate asylum at Indian Springs, ^
seems to be a popular one," said Mr. C.
Knight, of the East Tennessee, yesterday.
"Editor Barker, of the Southern Star, tells
me that he has received letters from leading
Woman's Christian Temperance Union representatives
endorsing the project heartily,
and promising their assistance. The citizens
of Indian Springs propose to donate the site
for such a hospital. One. man has offered to
subscribe $5000 and smaller sums are freely
Tho fa/tf 4c all fhof ic f/? 4n_
sun> the establishment of a splendid institution
there is the formal endorsement of the
National Woman's Christian Temperance
Union, and the co operation of the Imdfng
temperance workers."?Atlanta Constitution.
SUBSTITUTE FOE LIQUOR,
A stimulant of some sort should always,
have place in the family medicine chest, ob
serves a family physician. Many people are
prejudiced against all alcoholic stimulants;
therefore, some substitute must be fbund.
The automatic spirit of ammonia is equally
as good in any case as either of these, and U
far better in some cases, for it is much
quicker in its action. It is also very often
efficacious in headache, and in cases of difficult
breathing there is no better stimnlanfc
Ladies are the most frequent victims at
"fainting spells," and to not a few of them
alcohol is exceedingly unpleasant.
The aromatic spirit of ammonia is an admirable
substitute, and really should take
precedence in the treatment of such attacks.
The dose is one-haif a teaapoonfol, well
diluted. It Is always a good plan to put one
teaspoouful of the ammonia into a wineglass
ful of water, and administer half the quantity
in one doee. If in flftoan or twenty
minutes further stimulation is needed, whit
remains in the cup may be given.?New ,
York Telegram.
TEH REASONS FOR SIGJHNG THE PLZDOZ. ''
1. Sign me J'leuge: u u joui uu?d
against strong drink.?It is time for every
thoughtful person to enter a tolomn protewr*""
against strong drink, which is every year
inflicting such awful havoc among the numail
race. Who can be indifferent to the woee it
brings on hearts and homes all over oar
2. Sign the Pledge: it will benefit yoar
health.?Alcohol is not more uecassary to
health than any other chemical or medicinal
agent. It excites the heart, hinders
digestion, disturbs the liver and stupefies the
brain. It givei a momentary glow and
stimulus, but you have to pay for them,
afterward by an inevitable lessening of vital
heart and animal power and mental force.
Even in moderate quantities, it acts as an
irritant and a poisou
3. Sign the Pledge: it will save your
purse.?Sit down and calculate how ranch
you spend per day in driuk?not only for
Jourself, but also for those whom you treat.
t will amount to a respectable sum in th&
course of the year. Add to this the money
you might earn in tha time you now lose.
Add to this all the sums squandered wastefully
in the compauy into which habitr'of
drinking lead you. And when all is pat together,
would it not make a nice nest-egg
against a rainy day, or for ilinees and ola
age*
4. Sign the Pledge: it will save you from
?Vnn Y\/\ infftnfciori of hfw
coming a drunkard; you scorn the thought.
But there is a risk of your becoming one, so
long as you tamper with the driuk.
5. Sign the Fledge: it will b2 a definite
starting-point in your history.?In all efforts
after a better life, it is well to have some
landmark or time-mark to which to look
back and from which to date.
0. Sign the Pledge: it will save you time.?
How mauy days in the week do drinkers
speud in the saloou, at bars and in social
drinking, which is time worse than wasted.
7. Sign the Pledge: it will bo sufficient answer
to those who tempt you to drink.?
There is no answer that a man cau give so
good as this. There ore some men who most
hare a reason to give others for doing as
they do, and here is a clear, straightforward
answer for refusing to drink: "I nave signed
the Pledge."
8. Sign the Pledge: it makes a strong obliy^gation.?If
a parson simply mako a resolution,
ha feels at liberty to withdraw from it
if he chooses; but it he makes a solemn
promise to which he has put his hand, he
cannot think of breaking it.
9. Sign the Pledge: it make.- it easier for
others to do the same.?We are creatures of,
fashion. We cannot help it; we are made'
bo. What one does, others are apt to do. '
10. Sign the Pledge: it will ba a great help
to your neighbor and your weaker brother.:
?Many a man has been saved because some
other man gave his example and influence
and name to total abstinence.
temperance news and notes.
If there is no devil, where did the whisky
business come from?
New York city has 9369 licensed drinkingplaces,
received in 1889 a total of $1,412,770.
license fe?s, and lias 15,000 dependent children.
The Salvation Army, every member of
which must be a total a'.istainer, is now the
largest temperance organization in thfe
tvnrlrl_
A prominent lender in the II. E. Church,
at Centreville, Micb., has been expelled from
tho church for going on the bond of a saloonkeeper.
A canvass of the opinions of the memberselect
of ths Vermont Legislature has been
made by the Burlington Free Press which
shows that th?re is no chance of a repeal of
the prohibition law.
Madame de Norikoft, a lady of eminence
in Russia, in order to testify her active sympathy
with the anti-drink movement in Russia,
has written a pamphlet iu furtherance of
tho temperance cause.
The National Temperance League entertaiu?d
recently about one hundred members
of the British Medical Association at a breakfast
in Birmingham, the Lord Bishop of London
presiding, with addresses by Dr. Norman
Kerr and others.
Governor Mi.Kinney, of Virginia, says
that it is not at all necessary for a public ^
mau to drink, as ic often assorted. It has '
been his invariable practica to doclina all!
''treats" in his political campaigns, and he
bjlieves that instead of losing, he has gained
votes by his abstinence.
All employes of the New Jersey Central
Railroad nave been notified that they most
abstain from the use of intoxicating liquors
while on or off duty. These notifications to
employes of railroad companies are becoming
more and more frequent and bid Kkfrj
soon to become the general rule. J