Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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GHOSTS. BT OZLAS MIDSUMMER. The tboncbt "may be Will-o'-the-Wisp* ehook bis Kress As fire-flies thence flew about mid the 1ree? And thoughts of ghosts, goblins and demons and these Arrayed for a jig or a whirl Bo filled Joseph's mind with a sense of dismay, As in the deep darkness that followed the day. He plunged in the blackness tba: lay in his way Toward home from seeing his girl. ia?i cnurcn m xne nojiow ttuu uim uu wc utu, Though peaceful and quiet, deserted and etill. Caused up and Joseph to wander or chill, As lonely thoy Stood ii> the ni.'ht; Caused him to unpocket a rusty old bln:le And pucker his lips till a -whistle thev made, Then many thrill blasts blow, as though not afraid If demons came on for a fight. Tea, caused him to pray nnd'forget Mollie dear, For just then he saw a white specter appear Which waved its white arms as it came to him near And seemed to 6ay, "Now I've got you." Be bowed to the earth iu a S' a-ion of' prayer, Remembered the wrongs he bad done everywhere, Eipectins to die in his boots then and there, And feeling contemptibly blue. Bnt Joseph Btill lives, for the specter pa?Bed by, As at bis prone figure it beavtd a deep sigh At thinking he'd gone to the sweet by-and-by, His mother would never know bow. Then bellowed a voice In lamentable woe. Which voice 'spite Ws frenzy Joseph seemed tc know. For seen by the light of the fire-flies' glow, The ghost was his mother'6 white cow. Chicago, 11L BETRAYED; A DARK MARRIAGE MORN. A Romance of Love, Intrigue and Crime BY MRS. ALICE P. CARRISTON. CHAPTER Til.?(Continued). The intellectual superiority of Elliston, refined and insolent as it was, aided to blind Slyme, showing him evil which was not only prosperous but was also radiant in grace and prestiee. For these reasons heznost profoundly admired his employer?admired, imitated, and hated him! The magnificent ElliEton profesped for him and for his solemn airs an utter contempt, which he did not always take the trouble to conceal; and Slyme's limbs trembled when some burning sarcasm fell - from such a lofty height on the old would of his vanity?that wound whichwas ever sore within him. What he hated most in his employer was his easy and insolent triumph?his immense and unmerited fortune?all those enjoyments which life yielded, without pain, without toil, without con acience?peacefully tasted. But what he hated above all, was that this man had thus obta ning these things, while he, OBCar Slyme, had vainly striven for thenf. There was yet one thing more; he had looked upon the voung wife of the fortunate man whose bread he ate, and seen that ebe was wondrously. surpassingly lovely, and, like all who* had ever come within the magic circle of her baneful influence, he had speedily succumbed to her powers?aye, the time quickly came when he loved her with a fieice and maddening passion, when he would gladly have run any risk, committed any crime, to win a single smile of approval from her beautiful'lipB. Of course Cora was not slow to see and understand the power she had gamed over the secretary, and that one word from her would make him her willing slave; bat for a time she treated him cooll.vt even contemptuously. But when she wanted an instrument wherewith to reach the heart of tbe man who had calmly and deliberately slighted her proffered love, here was one ready to her hand, and she scrupled not to make use of it. "Take a seat, Mr. Slyme," said the lady, hastily throwing the paper on the floor, "and tell me wherein the world you have been ever since la6t evening." "I have, to the best of my poor ability, Mrs. Elliston," responded the secretary, quietly seating himself, "been carrying out your plans and instructions." "But, pray, what has kept you so long? The girl is dead?at least so the paper states." "Ah! to be sure the papers say so, and, thanks to a rapidly conceived plan of my own, which I must say I carried out most admirably, her husband thinks 60, too; and nowit only rests with you to say whether or no he shall ever be undeceived." "Lauding your wonderful abilities gain. 1 see, Slyme; that's a particularly bad habit of yours. But no matter?what do you mean? How does it rest with me? Please explain yourself. Tell the whole story, and begin at the beginning, if you please." Slynie flushed painfully at the rebuke he had received, and, moving uneasily in bis chair, he commenced hiB story, speaking in a low and rapid tone, his eyes the while wandering about tbe partially lighted room, and never for more than a moment at a time resting on the lady's face. ' CHAPTER VIII. THE SLAVE BEG8 A SMALL FAVOR. j "Of course," the private secretary bem vaii Vnnor oil aVirnit th a 1 AtfAra I 6"?? ~ - ? j , and what they were intended to accomplish. Weil, they worked to a charm. I eent the one addressed to the bridegroom at abont the right moment, and when I saw he had taken the bait and gone to the girl on Forty-seventh street, I knew he was out of the way for 6ome time, and so thought no more abont him, bnt turned my attention to the br:de?ha! ha! the bride of less than an hour!" *Do pray go on with yonr Btorv, Mr. Slyme." 'Well, the note I prepared for her I caused to be handed in akont twenty minutes later, and it wasn't long before it produced visible effects. "From my post of observation I Baw her rush oat of the house, and almost fly in the direction of the Fielding girl'6 home." "Ah! well done." "I had a carriage ready, and. springing inside, directed the driver to Rfep her constantly in view. He did so, and managed the whole th ng admirably. "She reached the house on Forty-seventh Btreet, and a moment later saw her husband issue from it; tnen see aid the very thine 1 could have wished her to do. She questioned the Irish servantgirl. "The result of that interview wbb, as you may easily guess, a resolution never to sec her husband's fact- airain. "She sent the uirl for a carriage. Ours was the first to iittract her attention. Hurriedly I told the driver to take tbe job, nnd when the lady whs Bafs inBide, and the oarringe was turning the corner. I mounted on the rack behind. "Of course, in this way, I never Tenlly lost Bight of her for a moment. As she entered the waiting-room of tbe Grand Ceniral Depot by one door, I entered by the other. "She bought a ticket for Cos Cob, and directly afterward I bought anotner ior the fcame place. Then 1 was careful to keep my eyes on her until the train was made up. Bat, meantime, I had noticed ( very curious thing." "Ah! and what was that, pray?" "Sitting next to her, and* evidently waiting for the same train, was a middleaged l?dy with a joung girl by her side. "Now, I am quite sure our friend did not see this girl at the time, but I could not help seeing her; aud. wonderful to relate, she w&3 not only about Mrs. Cleveland's own age, but looked enough like her to be her twin sister." Cora Elliston aronsed herself and showed a suddenly increasing interest. "Go on." she said, eagerly. "Ah! I thought I should interest you before I had finished," said the private secretary, a little dryly. "Permit me to asaurayou. I have been J U -11 J Via UtepiJ JiilClCDIUU an Wiujujj, 4VJV**JVM wuw lady. "Now plea?e go on." "Theseladies," Slyme continued, "went out to the train at about the same time Mrs. Cleveland left the room, and I followed closed afier them. "They found the right car first, and had tnken their places before our friend came in, and she, after a moment's hesitation, tfn pooto Ko/.lf r\f TrViilo I, not to lose Bight of her, took up my station directly opposite. "Well, as you have doubtless learned before this, some great man was about to die in New Haven, or further east, and as he wanted bis relatives and friends about bim, a special train started with a I number of them from this city. "It was delayed by 6ome means near Greenwich, and the fact was not telegraphed back, as it 6hould have been; so. directly after rounding a curve, we plunged into it full tilt, and our care were telescoped, shattered, torn from the track, and tumbled down a Bteep embankment. where they speedily took fire. "By some wise dispensation of Divine Providence, I escaped uninjured * "See here, Slyme," suddenly interrupted Cora, with an ill-concealed sneer, "you get that cant from the so-called religious vnn mofit xritVi A/>^Qoinno11v "Doubtless when you are with them it's all well enough to make use of it, if you eee fit to do bo; but in my presence? knowing you as I do?will you have the kindneBS to forbear?" The secretary, with a chagTined look, bowed humbly, and fixed his eyes upon the floor. ? "Your will is my law," he 6aid in a low tone, and then went on, hurriedly: "How I ever managed to crawl out of that burning wreck I know not, but I did do it, and strangely enough, when I gained my feet, I found Mrs. Cleveland's hat in my hand. I then looked aronnd to see if I could find any traces of the lady herself, and presently, not a dozen yarcls away, I discovered her lying among a number of the dead and dying. "Now, you see tlie wonderful likeness oetween tnese two women, naa occupied my mind ever since I saw them silting so near each other in the waiting-room of the depot; and now, all at once, as I stood there, it occurred to me that I might tarn that likeness to good account, provided the other was dead, as I strongly suspected she was. "I commenced a thorongh scarch, and with the assistance of a brakeman and one or two uninjured passengers, soon found her body, so horrible burned and disfigured, that it might easily have passed for almost any one's; but taking into consideration the hair, her height, build, and certain features that were uninjured, and which were common to both, I waB perfectly satisfied that Mis. Cleveland's own mother would not hesitate for a moment to declare that the dead girl was her daughter. " But, to make assurance doubly sure, after having the real Mrs. Cleveland conveyed away, I burned the remains of a bat, which I took from the deid girl's head, and placed the other by her side, and thus, a short time after, Eugene Cleveland found the body, and accepted it as that of his wife." " Ah!" ejaculated Cora. Then quickly: "And what did you do with the woman you took away? " "I hiied a carriage, and convej-ed her to the cott ge you ordered me to lease in Roxbury." " And she is there now? " " Ye6, ma'am, and likely to remain there a long time." " She was injured, perhaps? " * Badly. Her right arm was broken, her hea 1 frightfully cut, and she received other injuries. " It was some time, of course, before I could put her in charge of a physician, and by that time fever had set in. She ie out ot her head now, and the doctor says ten to one she will never recover her reason. "She has brain fever, then?" "Yes." "She may die?" "It's more than likely." "H'm?and the?tne other; what did they do with that?" "I made inquiries afterward," said Slyme, slowly, "and found they had taken it to Mrs. Cleveland's mother's, at Riverside, from whence it is to be buried to-morrow, I think." "Ah!" Then, after a moment's pause: "Slyme." "Yes, ma'am." "You must attend that funeral." "Attend the funeral! "What possible good can come of tbat?" "I should greatlv like to know who the gueet6 will be. What information you .Ul. A? matr in a art) UUIO IU ^aiuci kUCio UJ?J, AJU a. ^icat measure, shape oar course for the future. " "Then J will certainly be there. And now. madam; have you any further commands for me?" "Have you told me all I ought 10 know?" "I believe bo?unless " "Unless what?" "Why, I am inclined to think, from what I have been able to learn since I reached the city, that young Fielding and his sister are likely to make quite a stir about the liberty taken with their names, and the fraud practiced upon them the nfher nioht.n "I'ooh! let them stir. If they go too far, they'll suddenly find themselves without bread and butter, that's all. And now, Slyme, I think our interview fox this time is over." But, seeing that the secretary 6till lingered. she thought it wise to bestow up. on bim a little honey; ho, with her sweet- , est smile, she said: **My irlend, I am very well pleased with you. The ardent zeal you have displayed in carrying out my uluns and wishes has quite won my heart. A flush of pleasure mantled the secretary's face. His lips quivered and his eyes lighted up with a new fire. "Mrs. Elliston," he said, eagerly, but in trembling touos, "I have?I am proving to yon. bb best I can, that I ask no better than to be your slave. But even a 6lave mar now and theu kiss the hand of his mistress; yon have not as yet granted me 10 ninch as this favor." Cora bit her lips with vexation and suppressed an^er, but quickly dissembling, she held out her hand with another of her gracious BmileB, while she aid: "Yon have, indeed, earned so poor a I x- t_ . :<? ..... rewaru. conuuue w ue luiiuiui 11 >uu would 6tand even higher in my regard." With a low cry of rapturous joy, the infatuated secretary threw himself npon ilis knees before the woinnn.and ferventlv pressed her hand to his lips; then, as she softly whispered: "You must go now, my friend, indeed, you must," he slowly arose and staggered from the room as one drunk with wine. Ah, if he could only have seen that same woman the next moment! If ho could only have seen her flushed face, her angry, flashing eyes, her compressed lips, as she rubbed the spot on her hand that had come in contact with his lips. Then if he could only have 6een howshe threw from her the delicntely Fihbroidered hnndkerchief she had used, a? if it hod been some unclean thing, he might have doubled her sincerity. He might eveu have doubted his own greut power of fascination. CHAPTER IX. AN VN8EEN WITNESS. Oscar Slyme was perfectly right. Grace Lester accepted without questioD the poor disfigured body, brought to hei the morning after the frightful accident, se tLat of ler only and welljbelo.vedchild Her grief was unbounded; yet, ill "ftnd wholly unprepared though she was, superhuman strength seemed given her to beai up under the terrible affliction. i The hour for the funeral arrived, and, ' as was to be expected under the strange, and even dreadful, as well as romantic circumstances, the little cottage and grounds about it, were tilled with sympa - ? - ? J .'5 inizing or curions meuus auu uoinuuum. The lonely widow, who now deemed heiself childless, and the unhappy husband, with a few intimate friends, among whom were Raymond Fielding, his sister Meta, Mr. Henley, and old William Rawley, and his wife, Hannah, occupied a little room by themselTes during the serv. ices. In the crowded parlor, where the closed coffin occupied a place in" front of the mantel, Oscar Slyme had taken up his post of observation. He had selected the corner nearest the head of the casket, from whence, without running much risk of being observed himself, he could see all that passed in the room, as well as note through a window at his elbow all who entered or passed out through the front door. The assiduous secretary remained until : A iLit) berwvcB wcic u>o;, nuu ixjo luuoiui i cortege had started for the picturesque j cemetery on the hillside; then, feeling confident he had learned all his mistress would care to know, he took an early train for New York. "Ah!" murmured Cora, when he had made his report, !it is just as I expected; that Fielding girl was well enough to be at the funeral, even if she was too ill to be at the wedding. I'm inclined to believe that I shall find it necessary to remove her also from my path." Oscar Slyme was watching her face intently, Rnd while he did not catch her words, fully understood, from her looks and tone, that something displeased her greatly. "I have told vou something that vou would rather not have heard?" he said, inquiringly. She looked up hastily, and regarded him attentively for a moment. "Liston, my friend," she at length said. "It does not nlease me that this working eirl? this Meta Fielding, as you say she fs called, should be anything mc-re to my iiusband's nephew than she is at this moment; and cannot you see that already jhe and her precious brother are schemng for the place made vacant, as they appose, by the death of Mildred Les er? "Ah! It does look like it," assented *UC piiVttlO DOUlOlOiJ. "More than that," Cora went on, hasti y; "unless something is done, and done speedily, they will succeed; for being more lonely than ever now, and full of grief, aB undoubtedly he is, naturally he will turn to them for comfort and sympathy; and loving him, as I am sure she aoes, it is very easy to see how it will all end; and it doesn't please me, Mr. Slyme ?I repe it?it doesn't please me at all." The secretary looked at ner curiously. | "You must love or hate this man very | much," be said, with more than a trace of suspicion in his tone. Cora raised her beautiful eyes, and threw upon him a quick, searching glance. "Have I not already told yau," sh? said, sharply, "that he haB mortolly offended me?that I will never forgive him ?never, if I can prevent it, allow him a Bingle moment's happiness on this earth?" and her looks and tone convinced the jealous secretary of her sincerity. "What wonldyou have me do?" he asked, humbly enough. She threw herself back into the chaii from which she had risen, and resting her bead upon her hand, said, after 8 moment's hesitation: "I don't knov yet; let me think." Then, as if .sneaking to herself: "We mustn't have the brother turnefl out of the bank; that was a bad more iD Eugene'6 case. No; whatever is done now my hand must in no wise appear. Besides, it would do him no good to throw him out of his situation; the publishei would give him a better, as readily as he ! did the other. "No, no; we mu6t manage in some othei way; and suspicion?well, suspicion must be directed toward some other source. And there's another thing?Slyme, aw you listening?" *4 ** ?? zee, Airs, untiuu, "Well, you must find out if I?that is, if we are in any way suspected of the plot that ended in the young bride's supposed death; and if so, yon must find some way to free us from the suspicion. I don't choose to have it rest on me, at all events." "I don't think, ma'am, it can be done," said the secretary, slowly. "And now with regard to the other matter; I believe I have a plan that will work, and wbicb I am 6ure will in no wise compromise you." "Then let me hear it, by all means." The secretary, in a diffident and deferential manner, drew his chair a little nearer, and began to speak in a low and rnnid tone. As be continued the lady's face flashed, and her eyes sparkled with excitement and satisfaction. "Yep, yes, Slyme," she was saying; "that win do most admirably. Yoa are indeed a real treasure, and if you carry this through as successfully as you did the other your reward " And here she was interrupted by a knock on the library door. "Come!" she called, impatiently, and a IOOiman emereu ojlu a i<uu wu a iu>u salver. Cora glanced carelessly at the card, ana then, as every vestige of color left her face, gasped oat rather than "poke the name of Eugene Cleveland! "Cleveland!" echoed Slyme, in a tone of consternation. "What can he want here at this time? He must have come directly from the depot." "I don't know what he wants, I am *Tir* " murmured the BUilty woman, thoughtfully; "I wish I did." "Shall you Bee him?" "I am trying to think what iB best to do. If I refuse most likely he will Bay I was afraid. If I see him But pshaw! I will see him." And hastily recalling the footman, who had discreetly retired, she aid: "Show the gentleman inhere." Then, turning to the Secretary: "You go into Mr. iiiision s pnvaie room; u wm us quite as well if he doesn't see you." Slyme, who was of that opinion himself, hastened to retire, and the door had hardly closed upon him wnen Eugene was admitted from the reception-room* Cora 6lowly lose to receive him. The young man advanced, and when he had nearly reached the table, by tbe 6ide of which 6he was standing, stopped and regarded her fixedly, yet without speaking. For a moment Cora bore nis close scrutiny, then, feeling that she could not keep her feet another instant, rapidly said: "Please take a seat, sir, and tell me ot what chance I am indebted for the honor of this call," and, without waiting for him to ftfppnt her invitation, she sank bnck into her own easy ch:iir. Eugene, however, mode no movement toward Beating ,himself, but advancing another step and reslTng his Band dpOn the table, he calmly 6aid: "Mrs. Elliston, I have called to ask you if you are now quite satisfied with your completed work?" "Sir! I do not understand you,-' answered the lady, with quivering lips. "And \et it seems to me I have spoken quite plainly," said Eugene, bitterly. "From the night of our interview in this very room you have pursued me with a vindictiveness that has never jested nor slept. And now it has come to this: You have caustd the death of my *ife, and not only that, but she, poor innocent child, died, thanLs to you, believing me unfaithful to her; I, who never wronged her e\en in my inmoBt thoughtB." "You have married, then, since I saw you, and your wife is dead?" said Cora, in aJow, Questioning tone. I "Tee; but I SffpTcllend there is no necessity of tailing you about it.'" "And you accuse me of your misfortune ?of her death?" persisted the ladv. "I do, most positively," said Eugene, firmly, "You do so wrongfully, then. I have never hfted a finger against you, I have not had the heart." And the words were utt&rod in a mournful, melting tone that, spiio of himself, thrilled the hearer's whole being. He regarded the woman with a look of amazement. "In that case," he managed to aek, at last, "why did my uncle cause me to be dismissed from the bank?" "Your uncle is a person who does not like to have others set up opinions in opposition to his own. He told you it was right to take the hundred dollars his wife offered you, and yet you refused. He regarded that refusal as a direct insult offered to himself, as well as an upardonable slight to me, and in spite of all I could say or do, he insisted upon having you turned away from the bank." Eugene continued to regard her fixedly. "Thflp you solemnly declare t_o me that you did not persuade my uncTe to nave me turned away from the bankV" ~un tne contrary, i urgea mm, even with tears in my eyes, to have you retained in the place. More than that, I showed him how hard it must be for yon to liv9 on the meager salary you were receiving, and begged him to have you advanced, so that you might live as you had been accustomed to from your youth." Eugeno was still incredulous. "Mrs. Elliston,"he said, "so far as I know, besides yourself, I have not an enemy od earth?you remember, yon tcld me fori we:e my enemy, and thit, sooner or ater, yon would make me feel the weighi of your wrath. Now. then, can you tell me how it is that all my movements were watched up to the hoar of my marriage, and how, before I had been married an hour, I was decoyed from the side of my Dride, and how she soon afterward was roused to jealousy and induced to flee Irom the man who loved her with all his aeart?" "I know nothing of all this," said Cora, ladly. "Indeed, Mr. Cleveland," she continued, fixing on him her wonderful eves. "since the interview to wbicto you oace referred, I have been ill?a part of the time, very ill." "Can it be possible, madam," he said, dra-wing yet a step nearer, "that I have wronged you?that I have accused you unjustly?" "If 3 on really believed me capable of what you have charged me with, you have indeed wronged me moat grievously," answered the lady, in the same sad tone, and with downcust eyes. "Then will you?can you forgive me?" * - MAMMn mnn QtCQV BieiUlLLIOU tile juuuj; uiiui, ?.. ?j by a sudden impulse. I "Willingly?freely," criel Cora, startIng from her ohair. And with an hysterical sob she threw herself into his arms. At that moment the door connecting with Mr. Elliston's private apartment noiselessly opened, and a face, as it might have been the face of a fiend, looked ont upon the couple, united, to all appearances, in a passionate and loving ! embrace. CHAPTER X. EUGENE RECEIVES A VISITOR. Eugene Cleveland left his uncle's house in a strange state of mind. His head was dizzy?confused, as though he were drunk with wine. He had promised to 6pend the evening with the Fielding?. They tnd considerately urged him to do so, knowing how lonely he would be, all by himself, in his own desolate home. But be forgot bis promise. He no longer remembered the dear friends ot Forty-seventh street. He went directly to his own apartments, let himself in, threw himself into nn easy chair, and thought not of hei whom he had lost?not of the sad ceremonies that had been performed in the little New England villase that day, but of her whom he had just left, the siren of the Fifth avenue mansion?ber whom his nncle called wife! So absorbed was he that he forgot the flight of time, and when the little clock on the mantel-6helf struck the hour of midnight, he awoke, as it were, with a ~A - ? * ^ of h i Kinri, uuu wiiu a gumi u<. heart, 6lowly prepared to retire. At length his preparations were made, and extinguishing the light, he got into bed; but alas, not to sleep. In Bpite of him, all that bad occurred from the time Hay Fielding h^d confessed to him the loss of the hundred dollars, down to that very hour, passed in review before him, like an endless panorama; for no cooner was the last act in his uncle's library passed, than the first tcene with Ray sprang up again. And now, gradually, he once more began to doubt Cora Elliston?he once more ! began Co look upon her as the author of i all his misery?as the murderer of bia pure and innocent bride, aud then, as he remembered how he had held her, clasped in his arms, as again he felt her hot kisses on his cheek?his eyes, his lips, he Ehuddered, and, shuddering, slept. [TO BE CONTINUED.J A Buried Ship Found. An interesting discovery was made Iaft week by the parties who are building the lighthouse afcsut five miles north of Sandy Hook. The hull of a ship was found buried under 240 feet of sandy clay on Orchard Shoals. The discovery was made while making a well to supply the workmen with water. The augur at the depth of 240 feet struck the deck of the vessel, passed through the hold, hrincrinnr un rosin, which is SUDDOSed tO =?"~0 ~l ? ? 4 constitute the cargo, through the bottom and into the sand again. How long the vessel has lain in its present position can only be conjectured. The shoals at this point have been filling up rapidly for many years. It is probable that it took more than 200 years to put such a load of sand over the vessel, and perhaps longer. The theory is advanced by some that the vessel was manned by Norseman and sank- lcinc hefore the vovase of Columbus. A map in the possession of the Maritime Exchange shows that since 1779 the shore poiut of Sandy Hook has shifted to the northwest 2S00 feet. In 1779 the general direction of the extreme point was north. Now it is west. It is likely that the sand which has been cut off from the Hook has gone to make the shoals. The sunken vessel may have been the nucleus of the present shoals. The current and tides are so swift at tbe shoal9 that some permanent obstacle must have caught and held the sand. The sandbed is of extraordinary harduess. An Effective Shield Against Bullets. The Yaqiii Indians, of Ponora, Mexico, may be savages and barbarians, but they are no fools. In the recent 1 trouuie Willi me iiruiv ui u^ieliu Ignaeio Pesquiera their warriors marched boldly upon the troops, each carrying suspended before him from a pole a piece of heavy cottou cloth. The bullets of the troops striking the loose | cloth spent their force upon it and in- j flicted little damage upon the wily - ~ ^ t I Indians, tfeiore ine iroops tuutv. m mc J situation the Indians were upon them, and in the hand to hand conflict which ensued routed them with great slaughter. The Yuqui invention is well worth the attention nf our military authorities. If a loose bit or cotton cloth will render a bullet ineffective some equally flexible! and more impenetrable shield mighl itop it entirely.?Picayune. I RURAL RUSSIA. VILLAGE LIFE IN THE CZAR'S DOMINIONS. Russia is a Nation of Peasants?Pecu. liar Institutions ot the Russian Villages?Improvident and Unambitious People. USSIA, writes i\ Frank G. Carpenter, B t J in the Chicago Hert'"'m aid, is a Nation of tt m mC rieasants. We hear I of this country only ^ as the land of the Czar, or as the posWj sessions of the autoW crat of the Russias, ' and until this year few people have looked upon it as much else than an ordinary European t country filled with an oppressed and rather turbulent people. It was supposed and largely is supposed to-day to be filled with peasants who are plotting against their Government and who are dissatified with their * * 1 "" +V a rtf condition. JLt 18 Aliuvm as mg iouu ut nihilism, and it is thought by many that the peasants are among the nihilist?. This is a mistake. Such nihilistic elements as exist do not belong to the peasantry at all, and the nihilists, the officials and - ? 3 - !_ iL. the nobility lorm due a arop in me - bucket of this great Russian population. The town and the city people number but a few millions, and Ihe great bulk of the people live in little villages. These villages constitute the real Russia and the Russia out of which is to come the Russia of the future. Of the 120,000,000 subjects of the Czar, less than 20,000,000 live in towns, and the towns of Russia are numbered by hundreds. TOE BHLLR OP THE COMMOTIITT. ] There are comparatively only a few large cities. 8t. Petersburg is as big as Philadelphia, Moscow is about the size of Boston, Warsaw is as big as St. Louis and Odessa is a little bigger than Cleveland. In addition to these there are a few cities of 100,01)0 each, and then about 300 cities ranging from 10,000 up ! . I RUSSIAN \ to 50,000, and about fifteen cities of from 50,000 to 100,000 in size. There are, however, more than half a million peasant villages, and these villages contain the vast population of Russia, which forms nearly one-tenth of the population of the globe. Only a small proportion of these many millions ' ? -r-? 1 !,*> live outsiae 01 uu&siu, nuu wc village system and customs are very much the same the whole empire over. Every Russian village is a little Russia in itself, and by the study of these people and by a look at one of ! their villages you get a fair idea of the ! whole empire and of this great Russian J J^=> ? If r.USSIAK POLICEMAN. I people. Of course there are Asiatic tribns, and some of the new territories, ? . T>-1?j narta;? as nniana ana ruwuu, mc ? w? .?? eitent different from the pure Russian, but the great Russia is a village; Russia and the Russians as a Nation are the peasants. 1 Kach of the 500,000 villages is a little J republic. Its inhabitants elect their I own officers by vote and its courts, for ' all ordinary offences, are managed by judges elected by it. Every village has a little assembly of its own made up of one member to every five house?, and these men manage Che affairs of the village. The village, you know, owns the land and this assembly divides this from time to time among the people, giving each family a certain number of acres according to the number in it and according to its workinsr nower. After such a divis ion the land's are left with the families to which they are allotted until the next division, when they revert to the village to be given out to the same personsor to others as the assembly may see fit. This assembly fixe3 the dates of harvesting, the time of sowing crops and it makes all arrangements as to the collecting of taxes. The Government of the Czat taxes the village a lump sura, and this assembly apportions this tax among those who should pay it. No ons can leave the village without leaving behind 1 I ?*" ^ . . e^-t FARMING 13 him a guarantee in some shape or other ; that his share of the imperial taxes will be paid, and a drunken, good-for-nothijg is often voted out of the village enI tirely and his share of the village lands goes back to the village. Each village elects two petty judges, who settle all small suits relating to sums of less than three dollars and petty quarrels, and larger suits are settled up to a certain amount by a higher court elected by a fixed number of villages and formed into an assembly called "the volost." Every thousand people among the peasants 1 on/1 tVio Dave one ui tucoc <uo?uivuw ?uu different villages making up the thou* sand elect delegates to them, and all disputes among the people of these villages are brought before this assembly and tried. The power of the volost, however, is limited. It cannot try cases of mure than $50, nor can it imprison for more thau deven days. In addition to these two petty courts there are trials by jury, and these are courts made up partJy by judges appointed by the Czar and partly by those elected by the people, and an appeal can be taken from them to the higher courts at St. Petersburg aDd 1-- ? li_: Moscow. 'J. De village asiemuij ia uucu the Mir, the assembly made up of enough villages to comprise 1U00 population is the Volost, and above this there is in each district a third assembly of deleI, -1 13M> VILLAGERS. i J t a.i u:i:+~ Via fAmnB | gates eiectea oy trie uuuikjr, wc >.unu? and the villages of the district, and this assembly is called the Zemstoo, and its business is to take care of the roads of the district, to see that proper provisions are made against famine, to attend to educational matters and to look after matters in which all the people of the district are interested. These Russian districts are a good deal like our counties, and there are a number of them in each province, which la?t is nresided over bv a governor and his r ? w council, appointed by the Czar. It will be thus seen that the people of Russia have a home rule system of their own like ours, only more so, in that tho most minor matters are managed by it. A Russian peasant can buy land if he has the money, but the most of them have no property outside of what they in "immnn -with their village, and the only estate the average peasant has | is the little thatched hut which covers about twenty feet square. They stick, however, very closely to the common property, and will do anything rather than lose their interest in the village to which they belong-. Strauge to say, they are by no means auxious to hold office, and they consider an election as village policeman or elder rather a curse than a blessing. Their village assemblies and elections take place iu the open air in one long street of the village and they discuss matters relating to crops aud their government among themselves. They do not realize, however, that they might go any further than they have now gotten in the way of government, and they look upon the decrees of the /-i? oe tiipv rjr, ou the laws | I SUiiltuuu^ iw vj of nature or those of GoJ, which could not possibly be changed. The Russians resent the insinuation that their serfs were slaves, but the truth is they were little more tbau that, and it is not long since they were bojght and sold. In looking at the Russia of to-day 'it must be remembered modern Russia has no: yet lived quite one yeneratioD. I It was buru during our late Civil War, | when the Czar of his own free will tooK the bondage oil of 47,000,DUO of people. They were given a part of the lands of their masters, and this not in the shape of individuals, but as villages, making the villages and not tbe individuals responsible for them. The time of payment for these land3 was to be forty-nine years, and they have already redeemed about $430,000,000 worth of lands, or more than 85,000,000 acres. In addi tion to holding on to and gradually pay?J ing for the lands they got from the Gov-J eminent many of the villages have bought} more land, and some of the peasants' have bought land and hold it in additionj ,to the village land. Such cases are,! however, comparatively very few. The Russian peasant is naturally improvident and unambitious. He has butt few wants, and he live3 as far as he can from hand to mouth. Naturally, however, he is physically and intellectually the equal of any man on the face of the - - 1 A earth, and when He is once rousea up to bis possibilities and shown how he can realize them he will develop into one of the strongest men of the future. No one can go among the Russian peasants with-/ out beinc struck bv the wonderful' strength of features of both men and-Mj women. I see every day scores of peas-1 ante whose faces would attract attention! in any American crowd, and the women: I meet are motherly, womanly looking, ? COMMON. women.* There are very few villainou* faces, and patriarchal men, who look is though they were men of authority and force, are to be seen on every side. I visited a Russian bath in Moscow, J where I saw a hundred odd men, steaming, soaping and scrubbing tneij: milK wiine cmuis, auu was a truck by the splendid phyrique which every one of tnem possessed. There was of the whole hundred not one who bad not broad shoulders and big bones. All were tall and stout, and when I thought that these men were cot picked athletes, but merely aa average crowd at a public bath house, I felt the staying power of theae hundred odd millions as I never had before. During the past lew days I have been visiting these peasants in their fields and in theii villages. 1 have gone into their houses and have talked with all classes of them. They seem to me like a vast Nation of groifn up men who, with the strength of a giant, have all the simplicity and ignorance of a semi-savage child. The .Old Whaler Progress to be Exhibited at the Fair. No more fitting or appropriate exhibition will constitute a part of the great World's Fair, it is believed, than that of the old New Bedford whaler Progress. This vessel has already reached Chicago and is rapidly being "set up," so as to / '-, give the rising generation an idea of what whale fishihg really is and to recall to those of more mature years in enterprise in which fifty to sixty yearn ago America led the world. When, in 1835, the combined whaline fleet of the Eastern World ! cumbered less than five hundred, the American seekers for the < boss of the seas were far in excess of this number, and gave employment to more than one hundred thousand men. The cash capital as represented by the American whaling industries in those days, I was way up in the millions, and the investment paid a ?ood interest. The carcass of a whale would yield from sever to eight hundred dollars, and, as the average take of the vessels engaged in the trade wa9 from eighteen to twenty whales, the returns were very satisfactory. The industry declined, however, as the whales became less and less numerous, and finally famous old ships like the Polly Rocket, the Gibson, the Ice King, and the Progress were put in the coast* ? x 3 1?4* KTnwa ! lQg iraue or icaacu w xwia j THE SHIP PROGRESS. mackerel fishers, aad the glory of Old Nantucket aad New Bedford faded beyond repair. Vessels of the Progress build are no longer used by whalers, for they coald hardly compete with the steam whalers, of which the Thetes, Bear and Alert are the most approved types. Whaling today, however, what there is of it, is com-. bined with sealiug and other fisheries, and the capture of one of these monsters | of the deep is the exception rather than J the rule. ? Mail aud Express. I How lo Rub. People who rub their arras or less for I rheumatism t>.iould remember that the j secret of the benefit derived fro.n ma?| sage is that th2 opeiatcr always rubs up, that is, in the direction of toe Heart. The reason is found iu the fact that the valves of the veins aad capillaries all open toward the heart, and by rubbing iu that direction the action of these vessels is assisted, the vessels themselves enlarged and circulation is more fully promoted. Rubbing dovtfn, that is, away from the heart, does harm, for it cio^s the veins and capillaries by impeding the circulation, without in the least assisting the action of the arteries, which lie too deep to be affected by external IrictioD, even if it could do them any good.?St. Louis Globe-Dsuiocrat.