The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, December 01, 1897, Image 6
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^ A STORY OF 1
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Nst/ By EBEN E
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Copyright by Rotxrt Bonner's Sons.
CHAPTER XIX.
CONTINUED.
Bhoda was inclined to resent his
poor excuse, for it indicated that he
thought any explanation would satisfy
her. And, then, she had begun to
^xave some doubts about him. Samanthy
had exerted an influence against
him, and when Samanthy "didn't like
body, she didn't, an' that -was all
there was to it," aocording to her own
statement, and she had left no stone
QAtnrned in her effort to make a point
against Wayne. She had been influenced
by two motives: She did not
like Wayne, and she did like Bhoda.
"Yes, you look somewhat incredulous,"
he said. "Is it necessary for
xne to tell you all I have been doing to
prove to you that I have been busy?"
"Oh, you needn't put yourself to
that trouble," said Bhoda, with a simulation
of indifference. She wasn't
going to let him flatter himself that
she cared very much if he did not
come to see her.
Just then some one called him away
for a moment.
It was Bill Green.
~ " ?3.3
When their consultation was enaeu,
they stood and chatted together for a
moment. Then Khoda heard Bill saj:
"Hain't b'en havin' a tiff with
Bhody, hev ye? Seem's ef she looked
kin' o' riled up about suthin' or
ruther."
"I think she doesn't like it very
well beoause I haven't been to see her
lately," answered Wayne, withalangh
that brought the angry color to
Ehoda's face. "I did go there quite
1 ?? 1?V?nf T a a ix7
often, as pernaps yuu uiun,
the girl was inclined to take everything
in dead earnest, and I've rather fought
shy of her since. A nice sort of a girl
to help one pass away time when it
hangs heavy. I wonder you don't lay
siege to her heart, Green. She'd make
you a charming wife."
Wayne had no idea that Rhvda could
hear what he was saying. Bat she
heard every word of it, and her eyes
fairly blazed with anger under cover of
her sun-bonnet.
"Oh, you misierable wretch!" she
said under breath. "I despise you! I
hate you! I winh I could make you
feel how much contempt I have for
you! To talk like that about me to
such a thing as Bill Green! Oh, you
puppy 1"
Mere printed words fail to express
41. ~ nt nrratVi fVlO.+. WftS fiOU
UULO 1UICJUJ311J VI TfAMVM -
centrated in Rhoda's tone. Girls with
a nature like hers can hate qnite as
thoroughly as they can do anything
else. In much less time than it has
taken to tell it her liking for Wayne
had changed to hatred and repugnance.
She saw now that what Dick had told
her was true. There could be no mistake,
no doubt, for she had the truth
vy from Wayne's own lips. He had made
her his dupe. He had made a plaything,
a fool, of her.
"If I ever get a chanoe to pay you
back, I'll do it!" she said, with a flashing
glance of scorn at him. And she
meant it.
The chance was nearer at hand than
ihe dreamed of.
!~ When Wayne came back to the seat
he had vacated, from his interview
with Bill Green, she turned her back
upon him squarely, and ignored every
attempt of his at conversation with
lofty but silent contempt, much to his
vexation and consequently to her delight.
Some new arrivals necessitated a
change of seat. This brought Rhoda
next to Samanthy and Nannie.
"You don't like Mr. Wayne as well
as you used to, do you?" she whispered
to Nannie.
Rhoda was never given to beating
About the bush.
"I don't like him very well," answered
Nannie, cautiously.
Of late she and Rhoda had not been
very intimate?rather cool to each
other, in fact?and she was at a loss
to understand -what Rhoda's tactics
were; therefore she thought it best to
be rather reserved in her ooruaunicaViri+il
Via* nkicot in afo.rt.incr STIftVl
\ ? ""Jvvv o
a conversation became clear.
"I just hate him!" said Rhoda. "]
never saw anybody who looked meanei
to me than he does."
f "I'm glad of it,** said Nannie, suddenly
waxing cordial. "I don't believe
you hate him any worse than ]
do!"
Thus it was that hatred?a feeling
that should not have been tolerated al
camp-meeting?mide better friends oi
these two girls tnan they had been foi
Bome time before.
CHAPTER XX.
8AMANTHY HAS TOOTHACHE.
Mr. Roone had slept in the barn
flverv nicrht since Deacon Snyder's
? If O r
horses were stolen. He was afraid
the horse-thieves would be after Dolly
and Nell.
He attended the day services of the
camp-meeting on Friday and Saturday,
and Saturday evening found him all
on fire with religious enthusiasm.
But he hesitated, somewhat about
attending the evening service. He
wanted to go, but he felt that some one
ought to remain at home. There was
no telling what might happen if the
place were left alone.
But he finally concluded to go.
Samanthy went over to Mr. Boone's,
to accompany Nannie to the grove.
At first Nannie had declared that slit
wasn't going to attend the camp-meeting.
It hardly seemed right for hei
to be enjoying herself, or, at least,
trying to do so, while poor Dick was a
fugitive and a wanderer on the face oi
the earth.
"Good Lord!" argued Samanthy.
with good, hard comrnon-sense.
"Your stayin' to hum, mopin' an' cry
in', hain't a-goin' tu make it any bet
ter fer him, is it? He'd ruther y'd
git along with yer trouble as easy's
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I possible. I know him -well enough
' *? AI__A Aiii i :i .?} i?i)M .u
ier mat, vjrn yer uuumv uu xob o uo
goin'."
They went by the way of the hollow
tree, and Nannie deposited there her
daily loaf, adding a great wedge of
her mother's camp-meeting cake and a
half-dozen donghnnts of her own manufacture.
"They'll taste good to him, I hope,
poor fellow," she said patiently.
"Course they will," said Samanthy.
"'Poor feller,' indeed! Sh'd think
he'd git the r'umatiz sleepin' out these
awful damp nights. I've felt 'em all
day jest from bein' out to meetin' las'
night. I don't s'pose I'd orter be out
to-night. But, land! I don't see how
I c'd stay tu hum with everybody else
goin'; so I've took my chance o' gittin'
laid up. I got out the arnicky bottle
afore I started, so's to hev handy when
I git hum; an' mebbe af I rub it in
II Till 1 >?
won, X 11 loci an ii^ui wmunDi.
"Lots of nights I can't sleep, just
for thinking of poor Dick, ' fBaid Nannie,
tears coming into her eyes. Her
remorseful conscience made her
thoughts of Dick very tender ones just
now.
The forest resounded with the
shouts of newly awakened souls, the
singing of devout attendants, who
hoped by. their songs to cheer on those
who were wavering between good and
evil, and the lusty exhortations ofv the
ministers. One could hear the campmeeting
farther than one could see it.
"I s'pose it's all right," Baid Samanthy,
in a tone that meant that she
thought it was all wrong. "But fer
my part I don't b'leeve in hollerin' an'
shoutin'. I'm a reg'lar hard-shell
Baptis'; all my folks was; an' we never
took no stock in sanctification sji' gittin'
the power an' the high mount o'
holiness an' sioh, as the Methodis'
folks tell about. I don't fellership it
myself, an' none of our folks could.
Sprinklin', tul I sh'd feel *s ef I
wa'n't more'n half converted ef I
didn't git right down into the water.
Xe needn't tell me! it aont stair tu
reason that a bo 3y can be immersed
by throwin' a few drops o' water on
him; an' the Bible says jest as plain as
can be that emmersion 's right, an' I
go by what that says more'n I do by
man's say-so. When I go in fer anything,
I b'leeve in bein' thurrer, an'
sprinklin' ain't thnrrer enough to suit
me." *
They passed on to the edge of the
grounds and observed the congregation.
Deacon Snyder was in the middle
of a most powerful exhortation to
a group of young men, who were listening
with great interest, apparently,
and a look on their faces that gave good
grounds for the belief that they might
be penitent before the exhortation was
over.
In another part of the grounds old
Mrs. Green was singing that quaint
old piece of religious doggerel which
most persons who have attended an
old-fashioned camp-meeting, or have
known an old-time revival, must remember:
"0, the sisters want religion!
The brothers want religion!
We've got to have religionGlory
to the Lambl"
The zeal with which she was singing
it rendered her wholly oblivious of all
things earthly, but it could not prevent
her from being a very comical figure
as she swayed to and fro, her
hands olasped, her eyes closed, and
her old poke-bonnet tipped over on
her shoulders, and hanging by its
strings, making the worldly-minded
and irreverent think of a small mortar
aimed skyward, ready to fire off the
good old lady's head at the moon.
Bill Green was among the penitents,
VnopliTur at. t.hfl RTTximiH-sfifit. The
minister had said some things that
frightened his cowardly heart, because
they told the trnth about him, and he
could not, at such a time as this, deny
it, and the excitement of the occasion
| had a contagion in it which natures
, like his are very susceptible to, and it
) had fastened upon him, and here he
was, among the "seekers," groaning
l and writhing as if the devil hated to
let go his hold upon him.
So the struggle between good and
! evil went on to the accompaniment ol
strange sights and sounds which made
the scene seem fantastic and unreal
enough, to the looker-on who took no
- active part in it, to be a fragment from
a dream.
, "Daar sus a day!" cried Samanthy,
! in the middle of a hymn, greatly to the
f surprise of Nannie, who felt sure from
. the nature and the time of the ejaculation
that her companion was about to
"get the power." "O my days!"
"What's the matter?" asked Nannie.
Samanthy answered with a smothi
ered groan, for she had enveloped the
i lr?w?r nn.rf nf ViAr in n. nVin.'url
[ "Are you getting the power?" asked
Nannie.
"Wus'n that," answered Samanthy,
i in a sepulchral tone, from the depths oi
her shawl. "It's the jumpin' tooth[
ache. O Lord! "When it jumps, I
can't keep my mouth Bhet. Oh! Oh!"
; "Hadn't we better go home?" asked
i Nannie. "It will be likely to keep
! on aching if we Btay out in this damp
i air."
> "Yes, I reckon we'd better," said
Samanthy. "Oh, my goodness!"?with
a frantic grab at her jaw, as the refractory
tooth gave another excruciating
twinge of pain.
! "Sister Samant'y, be you a-groanin:
. . i... iv . _i ?_ _i ii :in>!
! unaer ine siriviii s u me uperritr
asked Deacon Snyder's wife, Beeing
, Samanthy's convulsed face and heari
ing her groan of anguish. "Ef it is a
f pleadin' an' a intercedin' "
" 'Tain't," answered Sainanthy, con,
cisely and sharply. "It's the toothache,
an' I'm a Baptis', Mis' Snyder,
an' don't b'leeve in the power, an'
? 1 n ? > !xL
spnnKlin, n sicn tilings, ana wnu
I this general declaration of non-beliel
j she broke loose from the detaining
/
clasp of Mrs. Snyder's hand and she
and Nannie left the grounds.
As they passed the minister's stand,
Wayne was just striking np the old recruiting
hymn of the grand old Metho?
dist army:
"Am I a soldier of the Cross, 1
A follower of the Lamb?"
"Sh'd a 'nough sight sooner think
he was a stealer of a hoss," said
Samanthy with grim and irreverent
humor. Her unexpected and accidental
rhyme set her to chuckling, in the
midst of which mirthful demonstration
her tooth gave a twinge outdoing
all former efforts in that line, and
bringingthe tears to her eyes.
"Sarves.me right fer sayin' foolish <
things on a solium time," she groaned, i
and they passed the singer without i
his seeing them, and set off home- <
ward.
CHAPTER XXI.
CAUGHT IN THE ACT.
They walked home in silence. !
Samanthy was too busy with her efforts
to keep the cool night-air from
her tooth to be willing to attempt a
conversation.
"Hev to go in the back way," she
mumbled, when they reached the
house. "Mr. Porter's got the key to
the front-door padlock, an' I took the
one b'longin' to the back one."
In this way it happened that they
did not go around to the side of the
house fronting the barn; therefore
they were not seen by any one who
might have been there at that time.
"Now, tell me what I can do for
you, "said Nannie, as soon as they were
in the house.
Samanthy had dropped into a chair
and was swaying to and fro with her
hands at her jaw, groaning dismally.
"Hops?git a bag o' hops?an' pour
b'ilin' hot water on 'em," she directed,
spasmodically! "On top shelf?bot'ry.
Dear bus a me! Wish Mr. Porter was
here?'d hev him yank it out with the
bullet-mol's. Oh, my goodness!"
Nannie went into the pantry, and
was preparing to climb on an old barrel,
in order to get at the top shelf
where the herbs for winter use were
stored away, when she heard a sound
that seemed like the creaking of a door
on wooden hinges. 1
She stopped down and peered out
of the window on the side toward the
barn, from whioh direction the sound
had seemed to come.
A cry of surprise escaped her. The
barn door was open!
"Samanthy!" she called in a low,
excited whisper. "Samanthy!"
"What's wanted?" asked Samanthy,
from the kitchen.
"Come here," said Nannie. "Be
quick!"
"What's up now?" demanded Samanthy,
coming to the pantry-door.
"Can'tyou find the hops? They're "
"The barn door's open. I do believe
somebody's after Uncle Ezra's horses,"
said Nannie. "Look and see?I'm not
mistaken."
"Good Lord!" cried Samanthy, running
to the window. " 'T is so, true's
you're alive! Nancy Boone, it's hossthieves,
ye can d'pend on it! They
thought we was all off to meetin', 'n
they'd hev clear sailin'!"
"Oh, what'll we do?" cried Nannie.
;,Do you think it would scare 'emifwe
screamed?"
"I'll scare 'em," said Samanthy,
* 1 1-1-1- itt^i
grimiy ana resoiuieiy. uesi aecp ao
still as de'th, an' hist that winder
about two inches. Be Bpry about it,
too."
Nannie knew that any plan of action
Samanthy might decide on would
be wiser and more effective than any
she might propose, so without stopping
to ask questions, she raised the
window, as directed, while Samanthy
was in the kitchen.
She came back with Mr. Porter's
old musket.
"Oh!" almost shrieked Nannie.
"You aren't going to shoot them are
you?" ,
"I be ef I can!" replied Samanthy.
"I don't expect to hit nothin' 'cept
the side o' the barn, but ef I don't
'twon't be my fault. If I don't hit,
mebbe I'll scare 'em."
She thrust the muzzle of the gun
through the opening, and waited.
Presently she faucied that she saw
something moving back in the shadow
with which the barn seemed to be filled.
It was impossible to make out whether
, it was a man or not, but it was safe to
conclude that it must be, for the door
, would not have been open had human
, agency not been exerted on it.
"Hoi' yer breath!" whispered Sa*
manthy, bracing her feet and shutting'
her eyes. "I'm a-goin' to pjill the
i trigger!" f
[To be continued. ]
The Human Family.
The human family is subject to fortyfive
principal governments. As to
> their form they may be classified as
, follows: Absolute monarchies, China,
[ Madagascar, Morocco, Persia, Russia,
, Siarn, Turkey; Limited monarchies,
Austria-Hungary, Belgium, British
Empire, Denmark, Germany, Greece,
Italy, Japan, Netherlands, Portugal,
, Roumania, Servia, Sweden and Norl
way, Spain; Republics, Argentine Re.
public, Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, Colom,
bia, Costa Rica, Ecuador, France,
Guatemala, Hawaii, Hayti, Honduras,
. Mexico. Nicaragua, Orange Free State,
Paraguay, Peru, Salvador, Sac
, Domingo, Switzerland, Transvaal,
i United States of America, Uruguay,
VonMnoiii Tiosidps these are the
undefined despotisms of Central and
South Africa, and a few insignificant
independent States.
A Faithful Scholar.
Mrs. Emma Corbet, of Carlisle.
Penn., won for the Biddle Mission the
1 credit of having the most regulai
i scholar in America, as well as winning a
? handsome Bible worth $25. The prize
was given by the Christian Herald, of
1 New York, and Mrs. Corbet's record
i won the prize, having attended Sun*
day-school every Sunday for tweuty;
four years.
Har<l on Goldfish.
' fT" " * Jn L-doii.
xnere is uneu
; ing goldfish. Half of the ca|)tives die
from sheer want of rest. As fish have
i eyes so formed that they cannot endure
the light, a glass vessel is a poor place
for them. This is self-evident from
the way in which they dash ahout and
go round and round until fairly worn
out.
i
l The wealth of New York City grows
; by $100,000,000 every year_
H me ixuoie iveu
S In His W
SHow He Gets a Homestea
Dignified Mode of Life, H
When I was allotting lands to Indians
in North Dakota I lived in tents
out on the Fort Barthold reservation
&bout a hundred miles from a railroad
or a civilized settlement.
With me was a surveying corps including
several Indians and an Irishman,
a German, a Spaniard and a memi
* j.v._ A?4. nt
Der OI UlltJ Ui lLie Alio11 lauiiiioo v* vm
ginia. We joyously entertained anybody
who chanced to come by our way
without regard to his present or pre-,
vious condition.
One day a boastful stranger hauled
ap, with hungry look, in front of our
dining tent and without so much as
"good morning" for a preface, sprang
off his horse and remarked:
"A big syndicate is paying me $5 a
day and expenses to sell land?no difference
what I get for it or whether I
sell it at all or not."
He seemed about to follow thiB announcement
of his importance by asking
the price of a 'bite' when I replied:
"Picket your bronco and sit down
to a feast. This surveying crowd con-1
* 1 1' 11 ? ^ T mA?1rin/v I
troiB an loe country. j. ?w >Tuiaiu8
for a bigger syndicate than you are and
it pays me bigger wages than you get
just to give land away."
The invitation needed no repetition,
but the statement that I was. being
paid to give land away required considerable
explanation to the visitor.
And the explanation may not be without
interest to you.
The Indians, you know,-were long
accustomed to have everything in common:
to graze their ponies on the
common plains; to get their wood
from the common forests; to stack
their tents where they pleased; to
hunt or work and appropriate the common
reserve as freely as the fish use
the sea. This was their old time and
natural way of doing things. It
violates every principle of the rights
of property and was correspondingly
conducive to savagery. It is the
desire of the Government to get them
entirely out of this state and to make
them citizens.
One of the means to this end is to
nn the reservations that they
hare held in common and to allot the
LONG BULL IN HI
lands in severalty. That is, to give
each Indian a homestead, mark it off
by distinct boundary lines, require him
to build a house on it, teach him to
cultivate it, and in various ways help
him along until he is able to support
himself and his family upon it. Of
course the Indians have to be sufficiently
advanced to be willing to do this
before it can be done with any degree
of success. A portion of land is allotted
to every man, woman and child.
When the child grows up, instead of
finding tne land around belonging to
everybody and nobody, he finds a
distinctive tract all his own. He is
"nnvaVitr fonofVif Ma law nf inheritance.
?-o ?
The desire at onceB comes to him to
leave to his children an inheritance at
least as good as that which was left to
him. He sees other Indians all
around him cultivating their farms
and earning for themselves the comforts
of life. A healthful rivalry is
thus established and ambition previously
unfelt is fostered.
The Dawes bill, under which allotments
are made, provides that the Indian
shall become a citizen with all
the rights thereunto appertaining
within six months alter he has taken
his allotment and severed his tribal
relations. It provides also that the
Government shall keep the Indian's
allotment in trust for him fortwentyfive
years. Then he is allowed to do
as he pleases with it. It is supposed
that by this time he will be able to
hold his own against all settlers in the
THE TRIDE OF THE CAMP.
competition for homes. Just after
getting nn allotment, the average Indian
would be strongly tempted to
give a hundred and sixty acres of land
for a week's rations.
The next step after dividing out the
Ion/I a oml nlo^inc* pnrVli Indian under
lo,,u" JP" -o
his own vine and iig tree is to build a
school house, equip it well, put good
conscientious teachers in charge of it,
require every Indian of school age to
attend it, and thus push on the work
of civilizing the Indians right in the
:
i
pc
Man 8 ?
estern Home. ? f
,d From Uncle Sam, His Jlh C?
is Sports and Pastimes. Jfe! ?
W
heart of the reservation. The Indian ^
school qnestion has for some years en- ^
gaged more than any other the thought m
m 11 _! x.J _ T? ?m?1p
oi inoBe mxeremeu iu mamu nuia. ^
And "the Schools to the Reservations" ^
was the policy of the last administra- -g
tion, and will, I presume, remain the
policy of the present administration.
The Fort Berthold reservation is on
both sides of the Missouri River in the M
northern part of North Dakota. It
contains about a million and a quarter
acres and is as far from civilization's "w
haunts as any similiar-sized piece of &
ground outside of Africa. The nearest
railroad train passes by nearly a hun- n
dred miles away. The nearest telegraph
instrument tioks at the same dis- g
i)
I
THE HOMES OF THE HOHSKIS.
tance. The agency. employs a few
white men who have married squaws,
and a missionary or two are the only
whites on the reservation.
There are three tribes on this reservation,
the Gros Ventres, the M&dans
and the Ariokarees. .There is a subtribe
of Gros Ventres known as the 1
band of Crow Flies High. They long ,
ago cut loose from all other Indians. 'I
They had to be brought with troops ]
from their mountain fastnessess down J
to the reservation. They call them- j
selves "Hoshkis" (huskies), which i
means "bad lands." They still refuse j
i- -iBI.'.i 111.
W aillilUVtt Willi ?JL!jr uiuoi vail/vi |
It was to this unreconstructed band
that I bad to make allotments. Crow /
Flies High bad been deposed as obief
and Long Bnll pnt in bis place. Old J
Crow now oalls himself Chief Medioine
8 REGIMENTALS. J
man. He still has great influence and 8
is said to use all of it for the bad.|
The Indian chiefs are great sticklers D
for dignity. Crow Flies High has a v
superabundance. The first time his 3
band came down to have a council 8
with me he assumed marshalship of *(
them although Long Bull, dressed in e
full regimentals, was spokesman. They
halted their horses and wagons within
a few hundred yards of my camp and
sent me word that they were ready for P
the conference. I replied that I was *
at my "tepee" and would be verypleased ^
to receive them.' ;Crow insisted that I ^
should come to him and it was only 1'
after an hour or two's parleying that 8
he consented for his band to come to -
me. I was not afflicted with Crow's
spirit of dignity,<but I knew that if
the game was opened by my going to
him, I wonld never get one of his
band to take an allotment without going
for him with a horse and buggy
and giving him his dinner to come.
Most of these "Hoehkis" are hunters,
fishers, warriors, sports. They
are great jnmpers, runners, boxers,
wrestlers. They have a supreme and
loftly contempt for an Indian who will
spend his time working "just like a
white man." They believe in the sovereignity
of leisure. Wherever a crowd
of them meet, they test their strength
in manly exercise. Whenever their
horses come together their mettle is
tested in a race. Tliey are Drave,
bright, strong. They have their tender
qualities, however, and the two
little girls that they brought out from
their tepee homes to show me as the
'pride of the camp'?the only two children
in the band that had been sent
off to school?were as gentle and pretty
as Indian girls should be.
I induced them to decide to be "good
Indians," and there is hope in their :
future.
They had heretofore refused to take
allotments. They signified their willingness
to me, but they were very slow
to put it into execution. When one
/?omA fnr his Allntmfint,. freouentlv. he
talked about this way: "What cau I
get?" He was given a great variety of
land to select from. "I want none of
that," said he. "Is there any special
piece that I can't have?" He was told
of the portions already allotted or reserved.
"Then," he would cry triumphantly,
"I want that or nothing!"
"nil tViA nil of f i 11 ACflnt, had a real nice
o ?o
time changing this notion.
The average Indian's god is his dinner.
In influence with him the "Great
Spirit" does not play even a poor sec- t'
ond. You may fail to get him to agree p
to anything else, but if you will invite n
him to a meal he will foresake all J
things and come with you. Then you I
have at least a fair opportunity to rea- s
* \ ' 'J }
n with him and drill your persuasive I
>wers. 1.
When an Indian who means busi!bb?and
there are many such?is to
lect an allottment, he gets his pony, <
des over the land, decides npon the
iighborhood in which he desires to
re and then picks ont the special '
aot that he wants with a view to its ,
ater supply, its nearness to wood or ,
>al mines, its meadows, its plow
round and all of its conveniences,
is decision once made stands, and it
usually good. Too frequently, how
rer, he selects a pieoe of land that ,
n't good for a thing in the wide,
ide world. After the allotting agent
ied in vain to indnce him to seleot a
etter, he always comes to Mark
wain's conclusion that "if he wants
lat kind of a thing, that's just the
ind of a thing he wants."?Claude N.
ennett, in Atlanta Journal.
A HORSESHOE RACK.
[ king the Beit of Thins* In the Mountains
of Went Virginia.
In the mountains of West Virginia,
here there is little money to spare
>r the small things of life, are to be
een, Bays the New York Tribune,
lany evidences of making the best of
aings. Tin cans, traditional diet of
oats about New York, are here made
ito hanging baskets. They are out'
ito strips lengthwise, fastened in portion
by wire and the whole is line*}
dth a moss to prevent the escape of
be earth. <
New uses are also found for the old
orseshoes. Instead of having holes
a posts to hold the ends of the movale
bars of the fences, or the more
wkward double posts, with crossieces
of wood joining them and holdng
the bars, one thrifty man has
tailed horseshoes to the posta and
ests the bars on them. An idea of
Ma and a further sucraestion is (riven
a the illustration. The old shoes are
A HOB8E8HOR BACK.
tailed upon the side of the cottage and
lold the "alpenstocks" of chestnut
?nd pine used in mountain climbs.
Beneath the sticks is a "sand table,"
rhioh affords endless amusement to
he little children on rainy days.
Hard WlntU.
When the Californian tells you that
te has seen the wind blow so hard
hat it blew the grass out of the
pound, you will smile in spite of
rourself; it is so perfectly ridiculous.
Ind yet it is trne. I once planted a
awn in March, sowing Kentucky blue
pass. It came up beautifully and
lourished Juntil May, which is the
uonth in which the norther is preval*
' V - A XV- XV.?
int. X IH1J1J& WttB Uie liuuuiD U1 Itue
Qonth, and the-grass was about three
nches high, when the norther came
Jong. In two days I had no more
awn; the grass had been blown out of
he ground. 'As previously mentioned,
he norther ia a desiccating wind, and
t dried the loose soil about the grass
oots until it was reduced to a powder
nd thus unable to resist the wind,
rhioh dispersed it. The roots, having
10 further hold in the ground, gave
ray, and the wind carried off the
Tass. This is how the wind blew the
rass out of the ground. It is a Caliornia
yarn, but simple enough when
xplained:?Lippincott's.
The South Polar Expedition.
The commercial and scientific erudition
to the South Pole, under
lerr Borchgrevinck, will start from
England next July. Inquiries are now
eing made for a suitable ship in ScotHid
and Norway. The object will be
o reach Cape Adairi and proceed to
THE BIG KLONDIKE N1
be South Pole on snow shoes. The
arty will include several scientific
aen. Herr Borchgrevinck will go to
forway at Christmas, and, with some
forwegian friends, practice snow
hoe running.
? ;?r-??I? , ;?
'THE IRISH JOAW OF ABfc* | (otcmtlnf
Young Wonun With ? *1#?
ion How la Thli Ooutrjr, i]r
Miss Maud Gonne, who has
to Amerioa in the interest of the hidr
cause, is one of the most interesting -SW
young women that ever came to these,
shores. Her life has been one of )o?.
of country, the poor people of wmW
country and romance. She now
in France, where she edits a newspaper
devoted to war for justice to Erin anet; . where
the imaginative Prenohmen
have given her the title of the "Joan \ '
of Arc of Ireland.** She if a convert to
Irish nationalism from the eiunp of the
Unionists, and she declared' npon
reaching America that there was bni
iim-a?i ' 11
one ODjGOi m me ior uer-?vuc "*
the cojmnonere of her xwtire country J
Miss Gonne iB the daughter of Colostl
J
MI88 MACD Q ON KB,
Gonne, who .was an attache1 of the 1
AmUAantr Of
iJU^UCU OUIUMOJ JU1 JJD, l A
She was reared in the society which
would accompany such a position, but h
as a young girl the stories of the life
of O'Connell, the Liberator, caice under
her attention, and at the age of
nineteen yeare she had resolved to devote
her energy and years to the I
whioh had been his. She has been iq
active battle for eleven years, has "
wn?V^ omnnn tiiA Invlv in Ti/IOiIaII
and the dungeons and orgjunsed many *'
societies for the improvement of the
Irish peasantry.
"Worry.
Modern science has brought to -< ^
light nothing more curiously interest- '
ing than, the fact that worry will kill,; ^
and the way in which it kills is
to be that worry injures beyond-repair
certain cells of the brain. The /
brain being the nutritive oe&tre of y /
the body, the other organs beo<*m?f.
gradually injured, and when some disease
of these organs or %' combination
of them arises, death Anally ensues.
'Occasional worrying of the system/the
uraut ?U1 wpe WJIUI, tm? wv
and reiteration of on? idea of a die- \ ;
quieting sort the cells of,the brain are Sjj
not proof against. ~Ftannaoeutioai> ^
Products. <
Sapv From PotflfM. ' J
An extensive economical revolution ^
is in sight, if the claims of Dr. Prinzen
Geerlings turn out to be what the dootor
asserts they are. Dr. Geerlings, a
Government official of Java and form
erly Professor of chemis&y at the Uitir$ :!
versify of Amsterdam an n on noes the
discovery of ft simple method of converting
potato starch into' sugar. Ho :'%
has lodged his description of the
method with the Prenol i Academy of
Soience, so as to secure priority for . ;
his invention, although he is not quite
ready to make the details public.
COLD NUCCET WORTH 1983.
????
It Weigh! Thirty-Four Ooaew and V?. /
Found In the Klondike Gold Field*. . .. ; pi
Michael Knutsen is one of the few '' / ; ';
miners who have come ont of "the
Klondike region with a sack. Hie
chief distinction among the miners
rests in his being the possessor of the .
largest nngget jet found in that die* |
triot?a solid ehnnk of gold that
weighs, aocording to Dawson Oity
qnotations, nearly $600.
Knntsen's nngget weighs afrsetioti
over thirty-Joar onnees Troy, and
came into his possession two days before
he got ont of tha land where
famine stalks. ' ' :
This nngget is somewhat irregular
JGGET?ACTUAL SIZE.
. i t__j. T+ ia
in scape, dui vtsi-j ouhu. j? ? .
yellow in color, and nearly four inches
in length in its largest part and about
three inches in width. It was
weighed and found to be worth exactly
$583.25. T_ jj