Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

ii^ illl^ CHAPTER XIV. false! "There, there, dear! don't be alarmed. You've just woke up from a nice, long Bleep." "Sleep! Then the bridge, the storm, Baymond! No, no! it -was all true. Oh! "Where am I? Who are you? How came I here, in this strange place?" "You are among kind, truo friends, dearie?kind, true frien<is. and you must not get excited, the doctor says." Kind-hearted, motherly old Mrs. Blake, the farmer's wife, stroked Edna Deane's brow as she spoke, and her nSuriTA s.ink Lack amonc the Diaiuwu o~ ? pillows, moaning with weakness, mystification, and anxiety. A long sleep, indeed, had it been; for two weeks had passed away since honest Farmer John had dragged her from the snowdrift at his cottage door, ran for the doctor, and, with his solicitous wife, had worked all night long to revive her well-nigh exausted vitality. Since then, in dose and delirium, the poor child had lain, and this was the firat awakening to consciousness. She listened with a shudder to the ^Btory that her motherly nurse told her of the.'r finding her that weird snowy night. She cried softly as she told her, "too, how they came to love her bonny, inaocent face?how, if she was homeless, friendless, they would gladly make room for her in their home and their hearts, bereft only a short year since by the death of their own darling child. Thov nskeri h<>r no Questions as she grew stronger daily, and Edna did r.ot enlighten them. It seemed as if a pall, never to be lifted, hung over her young life. She remembered all that the messenger her father had sent for her had Imparted to her?that he alone had placed her at the seminary years agone, and with him had perished the mystery of her young life,, all hopes of establishing her identify," of finding her father. She had bgehcast upon the world alone, with no ^Rim upon her past life, and ? the mystery of her true identity was a ? "' " mystery still. No claim, save one?Kaymond! Her heart beat anxiously as she thought of him. How he would worry over her sudden departure her strange silence. She must write to him, to her dear friend Beatrice Mercer, at jnce. No, she remembered all her yi?de had told her. She must never comnvinicate w.th anyj of her old friends .until she saw her father. It might mean peril?troublej for him. Oh! how the perplexities off her situation fretted her A week passed by. She was strong! once more. "All one day Edna reflected! seriously. That night, glancing lovingly! at the faces of her kind friends, she toldthem of her resolve. % ' - " lou nave DeeD line an uwu ioluci and mother to me." she murmured, gra'-efully. "I can never forget you? never cease to love you, but?I am go UiK uwaj, "Going away!" 6ighed the kindly Mrs. Blake. "Yes; I must see some friends. Then I will return, then I may be glad of your happy, happy home. Please do not question me, but I must go. Eeluctantly they bade her good-by the next morning. The farmer drove her over to the railroad station. In the new garments with which her old torn and bedraggled attire had been replaced, no one recognized her as the supposed victim of the bridge disaster, an event strangely that Mr. Blake had not heard of. Edna had a few dollars in her pocket. She bought a ticket taking her half way to hocedale, kissed the fatherly farmer good-by, promised to write or return within a few days, and the train whirled her away. At the terminus she sold her watch. This gave her ample means to continue her journey. All the way she was thinking of what she should do. Something in the memory of her guide's strange warning about the mystery that clouded her father's life impelled her to secrecy in all her movements, and when she reached Hopedalo at noon she trusted to her attire and a heavy veil to conceal her identity. She haunted the vicinity of the seminary. She would try to get word to Beatrice. Finally, she addressed a strange student. The reply to her questions chilled and disconcerted her. Miss Mercer had left the seminary two weeks iirevious. Then Kaymond?she must find him now. She could tell him everything. While he endeavored to get 6ome trace of her father, she would return to the Blakes and make her home with them. It was just dusk when she finally rang at the door-bell of the Marshall residence. A servant informed her that Mr. MarBhall was not at home. He had gone to the hotel with his father, the colonel. "What shall I do? Oh! I am so fearful of making a mistake, but I must see Rnvrnoml. Who else can I anneal to In iny uncertainty?" Dubiously, undecidedly, Edna -walked towards the village hostelry. It was quite dusk, and she was very tire I whefc she reached the place. Mechanically, almost, she ascended the stairs leading to the ladies' parlor, and sank to a cushioned chair, thinking, wondering, hoping she was doing what wa* eminently proper, and for the best. .Footsteps on the stairs brought her to her feet. It it was a servant, she would ask her to try and find Mr. Itaymond Marshall and his father, and send them to her?but it was no servant. The familiar form of Doctor Simms passed the door, and following him was a clericallooking man, and the former was saying: "Mr. Marshall is waiting for us. This way. sir." Mr. Marshall?Raymond! Ho was in the hotel, tiicn? What meant the words of the Doctor? Why was the ministerial-ionking man here? For a lew moment.-? the perplexed girl lingered. Thi n, involuntarily, she stole from the room and down a corridor. j The sound of voices" Through The open ;door of a darkened room drew her to its threshold. It was the parlor of the suite occupied by Beatrice Mercer. The 'half-oj en door of the communicating apartments admitted the sound of sol;emn, impressive words. Was she dreaming? Half-stunned sh? {staggerid across tho room and peered linto the next. 1'ea'i'ii-e?Kaymond?a minister?Coljone; Marshall. The two former with ,hands united, one lyinK on a touch, the 'oth<T. she fancied, bending tenderly to.ward h* r. > (.'h' turcly, this was some delirium ol rthe. 8m.6cs, her old fever returned.. 1 I J QJI 1 I No, ror just then came tne solemn, somber words from the lips of the clergyman: : "And you, Raymond Marshall, do take Beatrice Mercer as your legally wedded wife, to cherish and protect while life shall last!" i The unhappy girl reeled where she i6tood. Her senses seemed deserting her. Clinging to the door-knob for support, peering, horrified, pulsating, she .drew the door open. | She 6aw Eaymond Marshall start, Jstare, recoil?he alone. Her senses I Itook in the scene as the crowning tab! ileau of a set of scenes in her young llife that had brought wreck, heart, ;break and disaster to her fondest ; ihopos. ', Then she turned and fled, slcK at soul, affrighted, appalled. A voice seemed to I call her, but she heeded it not. Out through tho portals of the hotel j she sped, down tho street like one mad, i past the limits of the town, into the | somber forest. I At the foot of a giant oak Bhe sank | all of a heap. Its leaves were green J in the olden days when it had been a i trvstine-Dlaoo for haoov hearts, but I now blighted, faded, fallen, crushed under feet Her life seemed ebbing, her heart ; was breaking, her vision shrank ap! palled from that last vivid picture of j treachery and faithlessness. r "Oh, let me die," wailed the unhappy ) girl, burying her face in her hands in I an agony of heart-break, "for Eaymond is false! false! false! " CHAPTER XV. IN PEBIL. By the old oak tree Edna Deane lingered until the silence of midnight had tallen over the scene. She took no note of time; she was only vaguely conscious of her surroundings. Here she ha 1 loved and trusted, here her heart had broken, and the cruelty of a treacherous friend, the faithlessness of a plighted lover, had crushed all the joy and hope out of her fresh young life. I Those silent, anguisnep nours, However, could not endure forever. Like on ordeal of fire, they tried her soul, but it fainted not The rare purity of her sweet nature kept her from utter despair. She was crushed, but duty lay still before her. A barren path the future, but she mu6t tread it alone. She must make no sign as the cruel thorns pierced her tender heart; she must drain to the dreg6 the cup His hands had tendered, without sigh or moan. ? Looking upon the blurred fabric of her girlhood's love-dream as a shattered stately palace, hoping that fate would lead her to the father whose love and sympathy she so craved in those hours of darkness aud gloom, she arose at last, and with set, silent face, turned her steps away from Hopedale, she believed, for the last time and forever. She reached the railroad town across country, aud took the first train for home. Home! Yes, her heart thrilled at the name. Home was where loving hearts encompassed quiet, even duties. | There 6he would be welcome. Mr. and I Mrs. Blake would receive her as a friend, as a daughter, and some day sue might tell the kind-hearted farmer's wife her sad, bitter story, and learn ,from her lips how to bear her cruel buriden and suffer in 6ilence. i She did not try to comprehend how 'all that had transpired had come to pass. The one glaring fact confronted and appalled her?she had arrived at Hopedale to see her lover wed another. No excuse of time, of absence could condone 6uch speedy transfer of affection. He was shallow-hearted, disloyal, insincere, and 6he, Beatrice, a scheming siren. "Mercy, child! how white and frightened you look. But, never mind. Thank heaven! you have come back. John has been so lonesome for another 6ight of your bonnie face, that he hasn't eat, slept or smiled since you went away." That was Mrs. Blake's cheery "welcome, and it warmed and comforted the homeless wanderer. They asked no questions, but the keen motherly eye of the farmer's wife seemed to intuitively take in atrueco*ception or a shrewd guess of the true state of affairs, and without actually intruding on Edna's ?rief, she spoke many a quiet, effective word of consolation, tneu to ieau ner guest's tnougnt3 to othor themes, as the days went by. Thus it was that in less than a week Edna had settled down into a life peaceful, happy, indescribably so, only when that dark shadow of the past haunted her heart like a pall. . Her new friends had talked plainly to her. They liked her; she filled a dead daughter's place in their hearts. She was welcome to remain with them as guest or adopted child as long as she choir e. The little household duties she engaged in busied her thoughts. She saw a new mission in life In making the declining years of these two friends happy with her presence, her aid and her smiles. Indulgent Farmer John brought her new dresses, trained his best pony for her use in riding and driving, and insisted that she try to woo ba?k the roses to her wan cheeks by a scamper over the moors and down the river path every day. The first fierce snow of autumn had melted beneath the warm sun, and November seemed like May, only for the red fallen leaves and the crisp, bracing air. One afternoon Edna set forlh in the little phaeton for a drive over the hills, The gentle pony answered to the lightest direction ol the lines; the carriage dosr, Bruno, trotted placidly behind. She could think in these peaceful drives, and there was a somber satisfaction it brooding once in a while over the past, rwi~ ho, .1. nis ltti naj x^uua drive beyond its usual limits. She drove clear to and beyond the nest village, and only realized that she wouk liavo difficulty in reaching homo agai: before dusk, when she looked up frosi a sad reverie to find that the short after noon was waning fast. The sight of a flaming bush of a va riety quite rare in tho vicinity of th< Blake farm attracted her attention however, and she alighted from th< phaeton. Mrs. Blako had a hobby of pressing pretty leaves, and Edna remomberei 1 that she particularly treasured thii variety. Here thoy seemed to grow ii ' profusion, and she decided to gathe ! quite an armful of them. She kept -wandering through the iittn wooded stretch where they grow, allure< , by the distant sight of a still prettiei 1 clump of bushes, until, fairly loaded, sh< looked up, intent on retracing her wa] to the phaeton. i "i>ear!" she uttered with a little start , "where is the road?" Sh<- penetrated the brambly jungle ir two directions with no success, noting f w.th a slight thrill of dismay that duel was fast approaching. -? _._. J".' Vvy'r]'' ' W here was the rood, the phaeton and Bruno? Once she called the name of the latter, but she decided she must be quite a distance frum the spot she had started from, for the usual prompt appearance of the faithful animal in response to such a call was lacking. Throwing down her leaves she ran through the bushes straight ahead, came to a high stone wall, and catching sight of the towers of a pretentious structure beyond it, lined the mosscovered barrier until she came to a broken gate set in the wall. All was 6ilent and forbidding about the old structure, but there was evidence of occupancy in the curtained windows, and she fancied she caught ; the glimmer of a dress on the lawn some distance away. "I will find 6ome one about the house and inquire my way to the road,"re' fleeted Edna, timorously. She picked her way across an uneven, i ill-kept garden, once so nearly falling into a trap with great extending jaws. ! evidently set for tramps or thieves, that she shook with apprehensive terror. 1 "Oh! there Is a lady, i see ner now. i jl will ask her. Mercy!" Ou the verge of some pit or excava1 ition in the garden, Edna wavered, tried 'to draw back, and then, losing her bal' ance, plunged forward. i She fell fully fifteen feet. Her head : grazed the board side of the pit, and half stunned her. Dimly realizing that the hole, oovered over with branches.jwas a trap for Intruders, 6tie looked ;blankly up at the top with a shudder, comprehending that she could never . scale the steep. "Help! help! help!" j Thrice the cry rang out, with all the i strength of her bell-like voice. I Hopefully Edna looked up as the : branches overhead were parted. j "Who is there?" spoke a woman's J voice. i "I havo fallen here," cried Edna; "please help me. llercy! it cannot , be " ! Her gasping ejaculation died to a hollow, frightened murmur as she peered at the face that looked down upon her. For its fair, false owner was?Beatrice Jlercer! |TO BE COIfTIKtTEIX | rOPULiR SCIENCE. Gunpowder exerts a force of twenty-three tons to the square inch; nitroglycerine, 264 tons. Eggs contain all the constituents of the blood and are of great value if not overcooked. Butter is a force-producing food, one pound of butter being equivalent in beat or energy-producing power to eleven pounds of milk, three pounds of sirloin or ten pounds of potatoes. Athens, Greeoe, has a Pasteur Institute where 201 patients were treated last year, only one dying and that one a man who had neglected his bight for a fortnight before peeking treatment. Such an establishment is peculiarly useful in the Levant, which is overrun with ownerless dogs. Moissan, the French chemist, recently enalvzed the smoke of opium and found that its peculiar effects are dne to the presence of a small quantity of morphine. When the cheaper qualities of the drug are burned the smoke contains a number of poisonous compounds which are more dangerous than the morphine found in the smoke of opium. A new principle for keeping plants through the winter without artificial heat was lately tried in Regent's Park, London. Glass-bottomed tanks, about three inches deep are so arranged that all light and heat must reach the plants through a thin Jayer of water. The water exercises great control over the temperature, protecting the plants from frost in winter, and from direct excessive heat in summer. A Hamburg (Germany) voun? man has just had his sanity proved by the Roentgen rays. He declared ten years ago that he had a bullet in his head which he ha] fired into it in trying to commit suicide. He complained of the pain, and, as he at< tacked his keepers and the ^doctor could find no trace of a wound, was locked up as a dangerous lunatic. The Roentgen rays have now shown the exact place of the bullet. We sometimes thinK it is wonderful that germs should retain their vitality during the cold of severe winter, but what are we to think when told that they will live under nny conditions for two thousand years? Germs found in dust in the cracks of the interior of the Pyramids, which bad been sealed up since the time of the Pharoahs.grow and go through their various transformations when they come in contact with the proper elements. "In the light of modern inoculation by the injection of blood from the immune, it has been suggested," says the Medical News, "thut it may be possible to protect 'African explorers by blood from the healthy natives. In the case of Stanley it is known that he submitted to the transfusion of na tive blood some fifty times in the practice of the rite of blood-brotherhood, and it is not impossible that to this was due his exemption from the fatal fevers of that climate." South Sea Island Nursery Rule?. When a South Sea Island mother wishes to chastise her child she seldom resorts to slapping, and slippers, of course, she has none. Instead of using the forms of punishment customary . among civilized mothers, she pulls the ' child's hair or bites some port of the body, generally the fleshy part of the i arm. In wandering about the villages one sees many children having on their bodies sores produced by j wounds inflicted by their mother's teeth. When a mother wishes to caress her child, she deftly draws her > thumb across its eyebrow or cheek or -i.~ ?Uaa1? genwj iu? uueea ucuyixij UCI * teeth. The rubbing of noses is also a mark of affection among the Kingsmill Wanders, as it is among tuo Maoris of Now Zealand. Ynnilerbilt Cars. Did you ever figure up how many private cars it takes to keep the Vauciorbilt family in motion? asks the Jew York Recorder. Cornelius has 3 one, Geerg-o ht\s one, Fred has one. J Willie is., nas one, tue weoos nave 1 one, tho Twomblys have one, and even , Mrs. Alva Belmont has one, for which J she stipulated in her divorce settle? ment, and which remains at her beck 3 and call ^to-day, just a3 though she j were still a member of tbo "royal family," as the Vanderbilts are called , nt Newport. Nor jb thit all, for when I tha onr nl anv of the heuda of these 1 branches is busy the junior members ^ having need to travel miiktK reqnisic tion on the Grand Central [or ssryoe. ' /' s work. Suddenly great excitement seizes the workers that happen to be i inside the hive. They rush forth pell \ mell, accompanied by the old qneen, ] and after circling abont for some t HONEY MAKERS. INTERESTING OCCUPATION OF BEE CULTURE EXPLAINED. Queens, Drones, "Workers, Robbers? Human Conditions Reproduced In the Hives ? Great Profits Made. PID you ever hear of robber bees, that wage fierce war on other colonies of bees and relentlessly carry off every drop of honey belonging to the vanquished? Well there are such, in real trnth, eays the Washington Star. Their only object is plunder. When they set out on a robbing expedition they select as their point ot attack a neighboring defenseless colony, that has been disorganized through loss of itB queen or demoralized through bad management. The burglaries of robber bees are esi ? V3^/ HONE 1. "Worker, Cnrnlolan variety of Apis n 2. Giant honey bee of East India (Apis O /lUnf KA?ta? Kno n t T?o of TrtrUn f An{q 0? Uiuuv uyuvj wow w? MUJk *?'< ? 4. Drone, Carniolan variety of Apis m< 5. Queen, Carniolan variety of Apis rrn pecially frequent when forage is scarce in the field, or when they see stores of honey in hiveB other than their own poorly guarded. In such attacks they kill thousands of the defenders and leave the remainder to starve miserably, while they themselves make off with the BpoiL They seem to have no 'code of morals that inclines them to select as opponents forces equal in strength to their own. With them "all's fair in war." A great stir imd loud buzzing in the hive of the conquerors attest their rejoicing over their ill-gotten gains. It is always to the interest of the bee owner to stop this demoralizing business, and the auicker the better. An interesting chapter on robber bees, as well as a great quantity of other quaint and curious l'acts about bees, is contained in a timely bulletin jnst issued by the division of entomology, United States Department of Agriculture. The importance of the bee industry in the United States today is not generally realized, for despite it has developed chiefly within the last forty years, its present magnitude is eurprieingly enormous. It is shown that the present aunual value of bee products in this country is not far from ?20,000,000. The honey and wax alone produced in 1890 and sold at wholesale rates netted ?7,000,000. It is calculated that 300,000 persons in the United States are engaged in the culture of bees. In 1889 nearly 64,000,000 pounds of honey were produced by them, as compared with 14,000,000 pound in 1869. There are now running in this country fifteen Bteam factories, besides a large number of smaller establishments, for the manufacture of bee hives and apiarian implements. It is estimated by the experts of the Department of Agriculture tl at the present existing flora of the United States could undoubtedly support ten times the number of colonies that it now maintains. This branch of agricultural industry does not impoverish the soil in the least, AN APIARY : but, on the contrary, results in better seed and Iruit crop. Recent investigations by the Department of Agriculture show that certain varieties of jieara are nearly 01 quite sterile until bees bring poliei] from othtr distant varieties lor theii cross fertilization. These busy little producers of "the nectnr of the gods" are truly wonder ful creatures, and their methods of lift and aclivitv offer a fascinating 6tud\ in tho country. 31any of their habits and instincts arc strikingly suggestive nf Vmrnnn nntnrfi. Thus the swarming of an increasing colony closely resembles a strike ol workingmen or operatives in a mill. The outward indications immediately preceding the phenomenon are a par tial cessation of lield work on the par of colonies that have hitherto beer industriously gathering honey, am the loitering of these workers iu squad: and clusters at the entranco ot th< hive. Apparently maDy are awaiting the signal to strike or migrate, whil< some seem not vet to have caught th< spirit of unrest, but remain at then minutes cinster on some neignDormg ] tree or shrub. The immediate conditions that inoite a colony to swarm are an abundant secretion of honey and general prosperity of the colony, with combs crowded with bees and breed. As the bees before swarming usually fill their little "knapsacks" with honey and are quite peaceable, there is seldom much difficulty in hiving them again by the use of a little smoke. It the cluster i nVinn'M Ha nn a smn.ll limb that Can readily be cut off, it can be laid down in front of a new hive. The bees will then go trooping in contentedly, bat if they do not move fast enough a little gentle urging of the rear guard with a feather will hasten them. To prevent swarms from absoonding and to facilitate the work of hiving I Wl ^'; - '1 Y BEES. lelllflca?twice natural size. ] dorsata), Worker?twice natural size, dorsata), drone twice natural size. illiflca?twice natural size. 1 alhflca?twice natural size. i I 11 11 __ x _ 1 x .1. tnem, as wen as iu neep uau& uuic easily of the age of queens, many bee oultprists prefer to olip the wings of the queens as soon as mated. The first < season one of the large or primary wings is clipped half way; at the opening of the second season the other 1 large wing, and the third season an additional olip is taken from one of the large wings, and with it a portion of one of the secondary or smaller wings. The loyalty of a oolonv to their queen is proverbial, and it is principally by operating upon this instinct that bee culturists manage the ? work of a colony. Each colony of bees in good condition of rtripninor nf a nonorm nnn tains a laying queen and some 30,000 to 40,000 worker bees, or six to eight quarts by measurement. Besides this there should be four to six combs fairly Btocked with developing brood, with a good supply of honey about them. Several hundred drones may also be present. Under normal conditions the queen lays all the eggs that are deposited in the hive, beiDg able to deposit as many as 4000 eggs in twenty-four hours. Ordinarily she mates but once, flying out from the hive to meet the drone?the male bee?high in the air, when from five to nine days old. If the eggs are fertilized they develop into workers or queens, according to the character of food given and the size and shape of the sells; if unfertinned into drnnps. The aneen's life may extend over a period of four or live years. Upon the workers, which are undeveloped females, devolves all the labor of gathering honey, pollen and glue, bringing water, secreting wax, building combs, draughting designs, stopping up crevices in the hive, nursing the brood ani defending the hive from invasion. To do all this, they are furnished with highly specialized ori gans. The drones seem to have no i other office except that connected with reproduction and contributing to the [N MARYLAND. general warmth of the hive, necessary to the development of the brood. T!ie liquid secreted in flowers is ; usually quite thin, containing, when just gathered by the beo, a large peri centage of water. The bee sucks or laps it up from such flowers as it can reach with its flexible tongue. This ! i nectar is taken into the honey sac, lo. cated in the abdomen, for trausporta! tion to the hive. It is possible that ' part of the water is eliminated by the i gatherer before it reaches the hive, s However this may be, evaporation takes place rapidly in the heat of the ; hivo after the nectar or thin honey f has been stored, as it is temporarily, , | in open cells. Besides being thin, the r I nectar has at first a raw, rank taste, - generally the flavor and odor peculiar h fr? flip r?lnnf from which it was i gathered, and this is frequently far I from agreeable. To make from this i raw product tlie delicious and health5 ful table luxury of cured honey is one j of the special functions of the worker ; bee. The first step is the stationing ; of workers in lines near the hive r entrances. These, by incessantly buzzing their wings, drive currents of lir into and oat of the hive and over She comb surfaces. If the hand be ield before the entrance at sach a time i strong current of warm air may be felt coming oat. iVOBKER CELLS OP COMMON HONEY BEES. The load buzzing heard at night luring the summer time is due to the wings of workers engaged chiefly in ripening nectar. Instead of being at rest, as many suppose, the busy workers are caring for the last lot of gathered nectar and making room for nore. This may go on far into the light, or even all night, the activity ind loudness being proportionate to ;he amount and thinness of the liquid. Frequently the ripening honey is renoved from one set of cells aod placed .n otheis, incidental to the manipula;ion the bees eubjeot it to. When jnaUy the process has been completed, iho water constituent is found to have seen reduced to ten or twelve per sent., and all disagreeable odors and lavors, probably due to volatile oils, iave also been driveu off in a great neaeure by the heat of the hive, argely generated by the bees. Durng the manipulation a subtle antiseptic, formic acid, secreted by glands ;n the head of the bee, has been added. The queen, by a natural instinct, lies out to mate. Should she be lost, oo more fertilized eggs would be deposited in the hive, and the old workars gradually dying off without being mperseded by voung ones, the colony ironld become extinct in a few months or meet a speedier fate through intruders?wax moths, wasps or robber bees. The production of many drones is accordingly provided for, so that poung queens flying out to mate will aot incur too many risks from birds and insect enemies. But the loss of queens while flying out to mate is evidently one of the provisions of nature to prevent bees from undue multiplication, for were there no such checks they would become a pest in the land. On the other hand, the risk to the queen is not uselessly increased, for she usually mates but once during her life. A n OTX7A UCCB aiC l/iauo^/w* i/wv? .. ? days almost invariably by mail, and sent to all parte of the United States, and even to distant foreign countries, in a cage of diminutive pattern constructed for the purpose. The food usually employed in these cages by queen breeders is a soft candy made by kneading fine sugar and honey together until a etifl dough is formed. The food for the jonrney having been placed in the end of the cage opposite that containing the ventilating holes, a bit of honeycomb is pressed down over it to assist in retaining the moisture. The cover, with a bit of wire cloth between it and the bees, for greater security, together with the address and a one-cent stamp, completes the transportation airang* ments for a queen and eight or ten attendant workers for a journey of 3000 miles. A special postal regulation admits them to the mails at merchandise rates?one cent per ounce. A recent estimate by one of the apiarian journals places the number of queens sold and thus transported through the mails annually at zu,uuu. The different races of heeB vary materiality from each other in individual qualities, suoh as temper, spirit, tractability, pugnacity, industry, courage, honev-getting capacity, endurance of cold and character and flavor of product. Besides the common or brown German bee, imported from Europe to this country some time in the seventeenth century and now widely diffused from the Atlantic to the Puoifis, several other races have been brought in to the United States and acclimated ?the Italian in 1860, and later the Egyptian, the Cyprian from the Island of Cyprus, the Syrian, the Palestine, the Tunisian and the Carniolan from Carniola, Austria. Of these the brown or black German, the Italian and the Carniolan are probably the only races existing pure in the United States, the others having become more or lass mixed. Egyptian bees were tried here some thirty years ago, and, like the Syriuns and Palestines imported in 1880, they were condemned as inferior in temper and wintering qualities to tlae otner races, aespue iiimr groato* fecundity and greater energy in boney collecting. A Wonderful Creature. The polype is the most remarkable creature that now inhabits the earth. Ii cut transversely or longitudinally into several parts each part will soon become a perfect animal. Turn one inside out and it will continue to eat and enjoy itself. Professor Trombly cut them in two and placed them together in suoh a shape that he formed animals with two heads and animals with two sets of hinder parts and no heads! The cut edges in such cases readily unite, and the patched-up creatures go right on living as if nothing had happened. Au Ancient Tenor. Sims Reeves, aged scventy-eiglit. and bis young wife and infant, are on tbeir way from England to South Africa. It is the intention of the ancient tenor to give concerts, and if bis voice JlOiMiS OUC Be win go UU IU aueu?iui, On,o reason why Keeves has preserved his voice to such an advanced age is thait he has invariably refused to sing when his throat was relaxed or in a bad condition, and, oddly enough, his throat has given him a great deal of trouble all through his artistic career. A Short Will. One of the shortest wills on record in the Register's office in Washington, D. C., is that of Martin Hendricks. It is written with an indelible pencil on a physician's prescription blank, and rends as follows: "Sunday, July 5. 1896.?I, Martin Hendricks, will and imnnnntli +n mv Marv. all mv earthJv possessions. Martin Hendricks." The Hospico on the Great St. Bernard can now be reached by carriage, the Swiss side of the road haviDg been completed. i i ?? ??.t A STRAKGE ACCIDENT. I A Horse Gets. Its Tail Fastened to a I Tree. I One of the most remarkable acoitfl dents that has ever happened in theV fields of this country to stock occurred1 on a recent Friday night on the farnj I of Ephraim Willey, of Troy Towni whip, Ohio, and he lost one of his best) horses. The beast was oat in the fi eld( I grazing with a number of other horsed I ? ' 3 11 _ XI 1-1.1 H ttepi lor iarm use, ana it is tuuugutt that it backed up to a tree to scratch! its tail, as horses do sometimes. Whila in that position the horse switched ita tail aboat the tree and the hair caught in the bark. The horse was fastened in that position like a vise, and was ia ^ 'H w v JIBt *'o? ?/iyi, x/ PULLED ITS TAIL OUT BY THE BOOTS. 1 i horrible condition when foand. It lad pulled so long and hard that its sail was partially pulled out by the roots. Mr. Willey does not know how long the horse was in the terrible position n which he was found, as the held in vhich they were grazing was supplied vith all that is needful, and no atten-< >ion to stock is required for supplies. The horse was a valuable one, and irill be a great loss to Farmer Willey. i This is one of the strangest accidents ;hat has ever been heard of in that 'ocality. Jicw Zealand's Latest Experimert. New Zealand is fond oi legislative experiments, and has just been taotling the servant question with a light leart. In the Honse of Representalives the Domestic Servants' Half Holilay bill has jnst passed the second reading. When it becomes a law 3very domestic servant in New Zealand irili be compelled to torn ont for a aoliday from 3 to 10 p. m. once a veek, wet or fine and whether she ikes it or not. If for no other reaion she will be driven forth by hunjer; for if she performs any of ordinary dnties in the hoase her mistress yill be fined $25. So, as the majority >f New Zealand householders keep bat me servant, the latter can get no dinner nnless her mutress waits upon her. *1 -1 ! - M iV- XT J a.ireaay, 11 is saiu, ine ?ew ^eamuu Phyllis is grambling at her good fortune.?London World. riie Champion Reiuswoinan of America. To Mrs. Harriette Winch, of MidJlebury, Yt, belong the title of jhampion reinswoman of the coontry. Perhaps no other woman has a better practical knowledge of the hora&^than. she, and there are but few men who jan handle the ribbons any better, especially in a race. It was in 1894 that she determined to become a pro* fessional reinswoman, but illness presented her making a publio appearance nntil this spring. After driving a number of lesser turf lights, Mr. MBS. HARPJET WINCH. UB Winch bought Major Wonder fron^H 3il Curry and presented him to hi^B wife. Three weeks later, at Sand^^f Bill, N. Y., Mrs. Winch drove Majoi^K Wonder agaidst the traok record? 2:26i?made by Mrs. S. F. Cro6by^B with Emma B. She clipped lj onds off this record. At Glens FallsjJH tf. Y., Mrs. Winch drove the Major tc^| a "bike" road cart, covering a mile i^H 2:17J. She then repeated, and b^H excellent judgment landed the MajoflE past the wire in 2:12j, thus establishes ing a record. A Colony of Vegetarians. At Oranienburg, near Berlin, a col^H ony ot vegetarians was started som^H fears ago, and is growing slowly bu^H steadily. Founded in 1893 by sevej^J enthusiasts on the subject, t&ere ar^Hj at present fort;-seven homestead^M where thiBfcv-seven families and 'te^H - - 1 - li/Nrio/io rt r? (1 7*0 T ai^H single 111 HI. wave uant uuu.itc uuu their oablmge. Outside of the veg^H tables necessary for their own fooj^H they have planted 35,000 fruit tre^H and 15,000 berry'bushes, and ha^H fenced in tho entire property with hedge of hazel nut* From a tinanci^H standpoint they are doing very wel^H because they realize excellent pric^H for the products of their truck farm^H the quality of the vegetable raised b^H then being the best to be obtained. Buffalo Commercial. Webster and His Batcher. Hj Daniel Webster was onoe sued b^H his meat man. The man did n<^.c%^H upon Webster afterward to trade wit^H him. Webster met him- in the cour^H of a few days, and asked him why didn't call. "Because," said the mai^fl "I supposed you would be offende^Hj ami wouiun t traae wuc me any uiuK,n to which Webster replied, "Oh, st^RI me as many times as you like, bnt f<^H heaven's sake don't starve me death."?Boston Transcript.