Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, June 18, 1885, Image 1
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VOL. 81. YOBKYILLets" C., THURSDAY, JTLSTE 18, 1885. JSTO. Q5.
H1
ibe teller.
THE FLOWER OF THE FLOCK7
CHAPTER I.
There are three girls in our tarnily, Constance,
Juliet and Ismay, and it is I, Juliet,
who am writing this history. I beheve?I
may be mistaken?that looks have a great
influence over some people's fate. If I had
been as good looking as my youngest sister
I should now be Mrs. Lorraine, instead of a
forlorn maiden, gazinghopelessly toward a
solitary future. But perhaps matters may
improve as time goes on ; tne wound in my
heart may heal, and my feelings become
blunted. Just now I feel very sore.
Constance is ray senior by four years.
She married, and very well, the year after
she came out. I was fifteen at the time, and
the next five years was the happiest period
of my life. The Lorraines were our oiaest
and dearest friends, and Ismay and I studied
with the girls under the same governess
at their house. My father was the squire of
the village where we lived, Mr. Lorraine
was the rector, and there were no other families
of any consequence within five miles.
I think I began to live my life when I was
sixteen. It was October, Guy Lorraine had
left Rugby and was going into residence at
Cambridge. We young ones had been
spending a month at the seaside under
Frauline's protector, but the holidays were
at an end now, and I felt somewhat gloomy
as I wandered alone in the rectory garden.
To lose Guy, and begin lessons to-morrow!
It was too bad.
I was a medium-sized girl in those days,
with a round face, and a tremendous mop
of fair hair, blue eyes and a decidedly retrousse
nose. I remember that October
gloaming so distinctly. The scarlet geraniums
in the parterre glared. It was a last
flicker before winter. The Gloire de Dijon
roses bloomed everywhere, and stocks and
asters made a brave show, but a feeling of
autumn and decay hovered in the air, and
the leaves on the trees were changing hue
rapidly.
I was attired in my usual white flannel
frock, somewhat dilapidated (I was never
tidy) and one of Guy's straw hats, which I
had taken out of the hall. As I stood by the
dial on the lawn, a white figure lounged in
at the gate and made for me. Of course it
was Guy. He was a wonderfully handsome
boy, tall, slight, and dark, with clear cut
features and an eagle nose. I had always
admired him immensely; I am an artistic
soul and admire beauty. That evening I
felt painfully conscious of looking a fright,
and I began to straighten my crumpled
frock, and push back my curly, towzled wig.
"Don't do that, Ju," said Guy, as he approached,
"I like you ever so much better
when you're untidy."
"Then you must like me always."
"I do six days out of seven, Sunday's an
exception."
"And I always look so nice on Sunday."
"Nice! You're a periect ooject, wrni
your hair in a tail, and your best frock on.
If you only knew what a contrast you are
to Ismay, you'd leave your pew, and come
and sit with us."
"Indeed I wouldn't?I'd choose some one
civil, not you."
"You're jealous of Ismay, and I don't
wonder; but I'm not going to talk about
her just now. Don't you know I came
home specially to see you ?"
"I wondered what had made you leave
the river so early, but I'm not surprised to
hear that I was the attraction."
."You .conceited monkey! I should enjoy
boxing your ears, but I haven't time.
I want to talk seriously."
I giggled outright, but he pulled my hand
through his arm, and we inarched off in
silence. After a moment's pause, I opened
my mouth to speak, but he broke in suddenly:
"Ju, you know I'm going away to-morrow."
"Well ?"
"Are you sorry ?"
"No, I'm very glad. I hope you will
come back improved. You require improvement."
"You tiresome creature!" he threw down
my hand, "why won't you be serious?"
"I am serious. You're asking me very
stupid questions and I'm answering them
seriously."
"Oh, Juliet, why won't you understand?
Don't you know I'm sorry to leave you ?"
I nodded.- "Of course you are."
"And you must know the reason why,
Ju. I'm fond of you."
"Yes, I know that, too."
"You're really past all endurance. Must
I explain everything, just as if you were a
baby? I'm not fond of you in that way."
"Which way?" I interrupted innocently.
Guy took me by the shoulders and shook
me.
"You know what I mean perfectly well.
I'm going to marry you."
I made a courtesy.
"I must really tell mother that I am provided
for," I exclaimed; "she was very
glad when Connie married, in her second
onaann hut l'i?o rlrmp ?. parent, deal better.
Ol/ilOU II) I'UW A * v v*w?aw 0 - ??-? _ ?...
Actually, Guy, I'm engaged two years before
I'm out."
Guy was leaning against a tree looking
very sulky.
"Pm quite in earnest," he growled, "but
if you're only going to make fun of me, I'll
go."
"You are going, that is to say, you're
going to-morrow, but not just this minute,
Guy."
"Oh, Juliet! And do you really love
me?"
"I don't want to say Yes, and I don't
want to say No."
"But you won't go marrying any other
fellow while I'm away?"
"There is no other fellow that I know of.
I'll write and tell you if one turns up."
"And you're the sweetest girl in the
world."
"Guy, I'm positively growing vain. I
wish Fraulein thought the same."
"Will you ever be in earnest, Juliet? I
know you'll never marry when you're
grown up. You make fun of everything,
and you will turn out a good-for nothing
flirt."
There was a pause, and I tried to look forward
into the future. I glanced at Guy.
His dark eyes were melancholy, ludicrously
so perhaps, but I was touched. He looked
so sincere, and I felt unworthy of the
adoration expressed so plainly in his face. I
was perky, odious, and I hated myself.
"Are you sure you mean what you say ?"
I asked hesitatingly.
"Yes," he saia simply, and I knew he
was speaking the truth.
"And if you meet prettier and nicer girls
than I am, you won't like them better than
me?"
"You are the prettiest and nicest girl in
the world."
"I don't want you to say that; I want
you promise never to love any one better
than me."
"I shall never love any one half so well."
And so the romance of my life began.
When I was seventeen my lather gave his
consent to my engagement with Guy, and
we were to be married when I was twenty.
The course of my love ran very smoothly ;
Guy took honors at Cambridge in his third
year; I was eighteen then and was taken to
town for my presentation. I stayed with
Connie, but I made not the slightest sensation.
I was not pretty, and with one exception,
I positively hated and feared young
men. I was farouche and conscious of being
quite tl e plainest in the family. Little
Ismay grew more beautiful every day.
CHAPTER II.
"How she is growing up!" It was Guy
who spoke, and he was referring to little
Ismay, who was crossing the stepping stones
to come to us. I sat on the river bank, and
Guy lounged at ray feet. Something in his
voice made me glance down at him.
"She is the flower of the flock. Every one
says so. Far prettier than Connie."
"Then you don't include yourself in the lc
beauty competition, Juliet?" and he smiled, d
"I never thought of comparing myself
with Connie, and she is nothing at the side a<
of Ismay." ci
"But you are far away the best of the
three, Ju." 01
"I feel annoyed at your remarks. I wish
people would never allude to my looks; and n
above all that they wouldn't try to console cl
me for my lack of beauty by telling me that
I am amiable (which isn't true), or that I si
have the beauties of the mind, or stuff of
that sort." o
Ismay came up and seated herself by Guy. n
Two more beautiful faces could not have
been imagined. His, clear, dark, and elas- I
sical; hers equally perfect, with a complex- tl
ion of pearls and roses, with golden hair, ft
and dark, grey, lustrous eyes. d
"I hope I am not de trop," she said, calm- S
ly, settling her muslin skirts, "but I thought ci
Ju's voice sounded somewhat cross, and I U
am come to make peace." si
"More likely to create discord," I saidim- a
? n.i" InrvboH lin (llll'nlflv n nf]
pil L1CIIUJ UUJ IUUIXVU up vjv.*v? .j , .... v.
then murmured something about the golden si
apple. h
"Do you remember Paris and the apple ?" v
asked Ismay, looking straight into his eyes, a1
"If I had been there, I think it would have
been given to me." I was accustomed to Ii
hear such remarks as those every day, and Is
I only laughed; but Guy had not seen much G
of Ismay during the last twelve months, fi
and he stared with astonishment at the au- y
dacious beauty. She returned his gaze for G
a few seconds, and then cast down her eyes.
That was only acting. Whatever Ismay a
was, she was not shy.
I tried to talk to Guy as I did when we
were alone. Then 1 used to chatter by the
hour together, rigmarole he used to call it? b
a one sided conversation on every imagina- v
ble topic, which I know interested and o
amused him, although he rarely spoke, but to
was quite content to listen in silence. But ii
I felt somehow constrained with that graceful,
white figure before my eyes, and when 1;
I looked at Guy he was looking at Ismay, v
and had apparently forgotten me. I rose d
to my feet abruptly. to
"Where is Juliet going?" asked Ismay of to
Guy. He raised his eyes languidly. si
"Are you tired of the river?"
"Yes;" and I turned to go. He rose also, a
"Aren't you coming, Ismay ?" si
"No, and I'm vexed with you for leaving r<
me. It's nearly a year since I've seen any- ii
thing of you, and I wanted to hear all your b
news, where you've been, and what you've p
done, and everything." She sat pouting '
on the bank, and he stood irresolutely beside
her.
"There's really no reason why you should
dog my footsteps," I said magnanimously;
"pray tell Ismay everything worth telling.
I am going home." j u
And home I went, and all the way l won- dered
what those two were talking about, ?
and mentally scolding myself for an un- .N
reasonable feeling of grief which had stolen
into my heart on that summer day.
That same evening I went and sat alone *
upon the stone balustrade overlooking the 11
tennis lawn. I was alone for what seemed P
to me a very long time. The rosy afterglow
melted into the blue, gray sky; the "
moon launched her silver boat, and here ?'
and there a star flickered in the heavens. .
The corncrake was busy in the hay fields, j??
and the scent of the roses and honeysuckle L
in the verandah stole through the soft air.
I think I looked nice that night; not beau- "
tiful, I could never be that, but as pretty as 11
most girls. I wore a white frock and a u
pearl necklace, and my fair hair was twist- ^
ed into a heavy loop. Guy's voice roused
me from my reverie. "
"You look exactly like Ellen Terry as
you sit there. Look up at me." He placed 1
his hands on my shoulders and I looked ?(
into his eyes. He laughed and sat down "(
beside me. ?
"You have a queer expression in your
eyes to-night, Juliet. What is the matter?" ^
"I don't know. Something is going to t,
happen."
He sighed impatiently. j
"You seem very queer, too, Guy."
"I)o you believe in love at first sight?" r.
"Yes, in many cases. Is that what is :
making you sigh so? Have you fallen in V
love with some one at first sight?" f
"Oh! I don't know?that's to say, I haven't.
Are you in love, Juliet?" t
"What a question !" I exclaimed, indig- t
nantly, although I was half-laughing. "If
you wish me to say I'm in love with you, I
sha'n't."
"I wish to heavens you were not!" he ex- c]
claimed vehemently. q
The blood rushed into my cheeks, and I
sprang up passionately. Before I had time "
to make my escape Guy threw his arms jc
around me and kissed my lips over and over
and over again. My head rested on his p
shoulder, and my eyes slowly filled with
tears. No wonder I wept, though I knew tl
not then that that was the last time that my j
love (mine, also, no longer) would kiss me. ^
"Dearest Juliet," he whispered, "forgive a
me, darling. You know I love you better
than any other woman." rj
"Except one," said a soft, clear voice close tl
by. Guy dropped my hand, and I looked C]
round with an uncomfortable sense of having
been discovered in a ridiculous position. }v
It was Ismay. She looked lovelier than
ever in the pale moonlight. Her face was h
that of an angel, and her white draperies en-1
veloped her like a mist. She laughed gent-1 jt
ly at my look of dismay. I a
"I didn't mean what I said, Ju, and I tr
haven't been eavesdropping. Ijustsaun- al
tered up, and overheard the end of Guy's c<
speech. It seemed only natural to make tf
the remark thatl did. Itcamein so well." p
Guy said nothing. We three returned to j
the house together, Ismay talking to us fi
both; I replied in an incoherent way, but tl
he never said a word. h
That night a dreadful fear crept into my e,
heart, and until morning I lay awake staring a,
hopelessly, blankly, at a terrible phantom, 0]
which grew clearer and more distinct every tl
moment. And I had not even the relief of e(
tears. o]
Thank God that horrible state of uncer- t(
tainty did not last very long. The agony fa
of the next two days was almost too much ir
for my endurance, but when the last crush- cl
ing blow fell, it was not so painful as those
frightful doubts. Itstunned me, but I knew I ti
the worst; there was nothing, evil or good, al
that could touch my heart after that. i V
Let me pass over the next forty-eight j v
hours. I said I was ill and remained in j \\
my own room. I refused to see Ismay ; she ! ei
made my headache, I said. On the evening i \\
of the second day I went out. It was grow-! ti
ing dark, and I crouched down beside the ! n
balustrade in the Italian part of the garden,
which was laid out in terraces. Below my \\
balustrade a bank sloped down some six feet n
or so to another terrace, and a garden seat ti
was placed at the foot of this bank. I felt \\
expertant. I was lying in wait. In my si
black dress and in the waning light 110 one : tc
could distinguish me in that shady corner, ! b
and there I waited. The night was very j d
still. That hateful corncrake was still croak-1 tl
ing in the meadows, and I abhorred the j
perfume of roses that filled the air, for in ti
s ? .i u im ftia vicinn r\f hv'(r(inti I it
my iiuuu it 1IH9CU up im. ?v.. , ...
love and happiness. What mockery! I n
had not long to wait. I heard voices in the |
distance, and soon two forms emerged from \\
the shadow, and came slowly toward to the
seat below my eyes. My heart beat thick 1 t<
and fast. I feared they might continuej n
their walk, but no, they stopped, and Ismay,! s<
for it was she and (?uy, seated herself. He j I
stood a moment glancing round, and then | f(
threw himself at her feet. ! "
"You are humble," she said, "you may j
sit beside me if you wish, or perhaps you I a
think that is your proper place?"
"Yes," he said, "you were made to be e
worshiped. I had read of such women, but si
never believed in them, and here I discover li
one in a little girl I have known all my life, ci
and to whom I had hardly ever given a v
thought."
"Ah! Juliet occupied all your thoughts." C
"Juliet!" he sighed, "yes, and she ought I
to occupy them to the end of time. There s:
is not another girl in the world like my old
1
>ve, and she is better than you, my godess."
"
44 Who could blame me for loving you ? I t
dore you. You are so beautiful and graious.
You are an angel, a Venus." v
44And you are profane. Call me an angel
r Venus separately, not both at once."
44But you remind me of both. You are h
either saint nor sinner, but the most I
warming combination of both." o
44If Juliet were here, she would say I was d
II sinner?no leaven of saintliness." n
"Don't talk about Juliet. Let me think e
f you and of you only; the rest of my life C
lust be devoted to her." t
Through the gloom I heard Ismay's sobs, i
could not see, it was so dark, but I knew 'J
lat he was kissing her and bidding her b
irewell for ever, and each endearing, ten- s
er epithet cut my heart like a knife, a
lowly and noiselessly I rose from my b
ramped position, stole silently aiong me <j
irrace to the steps, descended softly, and
:ood beside them without either being 1:
ware of my presence. rJ
"And-now, good-bye for ever, dearest," a
lid Guy, and he would have risen and left i
er, but she clung to him and sobbed con- i
ulsively, "you must remember Juliet; I t
m bound to her." li
"You are not!" Could that be my voice? I
t sounded strange and far away. "For.the t
ist two days I nave suspected this scene. I
fuy Lorraine, you are free. I am thank- c
il that I have found out this change in
our love in time to escape a fearful fate, r
lood-bye !"
I turned to go, but he sprang toward me r
nd caught my hand.
"Juliet, you are angry!" I
"No, am relieved." i
"Then you never loved me?" He spoke I
reathlessly, eagerly, a note of joy in his a
oice, and my heart stood still. Howanxi- t
us he was to believe that all my love, my a
mderness and devotion, had been noth- e
ig?as his love, nothing.
"No, I never loved you," I replied slower,
and as I uttered that lie, I turned and t
rent slowly away, and he breathed a long- \
rawn sigh of relief. I never spoke a word i
d Ismay, or she to me, but I know my sis- v
?r knew my falsehood, and my. secret is c
ife in her keeping. $
They were married, and they are happy,
t least she is. Sometimes I look up and v
Be Guy's eyes fixed on me in a way which 1
Bcalls the past, but that is only my foolish i
pagination, for surely he can only look t
ack with amusement to the time when he r
referred me to the Flower of the Flock. v
, * ' ? J
Steer X. W. \
A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR WHO SAVED A J
SHIP'S CREW. t
e
About two years ago I left the service. I 8
--as tired of it, and as I wanted some more r
xciting employment I joined a whaler. [
ye were unlucky?somehow I bring no r
ick anywhere?and we were nearly emp- t
/. We were cruising up here to the north, v
nd were thinking of making for home, as j
le eather was changed?and the ice forms s
recious quick in those latitudes when it t
nee begins. The Captain naturally wanted s
) hang on to the last for the chance of an- r
ther haul. ci
One bright afternoon, just after eight
ells, I made up the log and took it to the t
aptain's cabin. I knocked at the door, r
nd, as nobody answered, I walked in. I I
lought it odd the Captain hadn't answered s
?e, for, there he was sitting at his desk, y
itb his back to me, writing. Seeing he a
as employed, I told him I had brought t
le log, laid it down on the table behind \
im, and, as he made no answer, I walked t
jt. I went on deck, and the first person I
met was the Captain. I was puzzled?I
)uld not make out how he had got there s
efore me. a
"How did you get up here?" I asked; s
I just left you writing in your cabin." t
"I have not been in my cabin for the last e
alf hour," the Captain answered; but I h
lought he was chatting, and didn't like it. r
"There was some one writing at your c
esk just now," I said; "if it wasn't you, 8
ou had better go and see who it is. The s
>g is made. I have left it in your cabin, t
r," and with that I walked sulkily away, t
had no idea of being charted by the Cap- v
lin, to whom I had taken a dislike.
"Mr. Brown," said the Captain, who saw s
was nettled, "you must have been mis- g
iken; my desk i" locked. But come? ji
re'll go down ana ee about it." c
I followed the Captain into the cabin, r
hp Inn-- whs on the table, the desk was i
osed, and the cabin was empty. The I
aptain tried the desk?it was locked. v
"You see, Mr. Brown," he said laughing, \
you must have been mistaken ; the desk is
tcked."
I was positive. "Somebody may have
icked the lock," I said.
"But they couldn't have closed it again,"
le Captain suggested ; "but to satisfy you ?
will open it and see if the contents are j;
tfe, though there is not much here to tempt ,
thief." J
He opened the desk, and there?stretched ^
ghta cross it?was a sheet of paper with ?
le words "Steer N. W." written in an odd, [
ramped hand. J:
The Captain looked at the paper and then *
anded it to me. ?
"You are right, Mr. Brown ; somebody ;
as been here. This is some hoax." ^
We sat there some time talking and tryig
to guess what could be the object of such ?
joke?if joke it was meant to be. I tried ?
) identify the back of the man I had seen !
t the desk with that of any of the crew. I :
)uld not do it. It is true I had at first *
iken the man for the Captain, but now ^
ointsof difference suggested themselves. J
had not looked very attentively at the ^
gure, but still I was under the impression i
lat the coat it had on was brown, and the I
air, which appeared under the cap, seem- ?
J, as I remembered it, to have been longer J,
ad whiter than the Captain's. There was
nfr one man on board who resembled in ^
le least the figure I had seen. I suggesti
to the Captain that it might have been .
Id Shiel, the boatswain. He did not like
) suspect the old man, who was a great I
ivorite ; besides, what motive could he, or ?
ldeed any one else, have had in trying to ?
mange the course of the vessel ? ^
Not to appear to suspect any one in par- "
cular, the Captain determined to have up
II the crew. We had them up, one by one. :
^e examined them and made all those *
ho could write, write "Steer N. W.," but
e gained no clue. One thing was very ?
lear?it could not have been old Shiel, who \
as proved to have been forward at the ?
me I was in the Captain's cabin. The ?
lystery remained unsolved.
That evening I sat drinking my grog
ith the Captain in his cabin. We were (
either of us inclined to be talkative. I j
ied to think of home and the pleasure it j
rould he to see the old folks again, but c
:ill niv thoughts always wandered back c
) that "mysterious writing. I tried to read,
ut I caught myself furtively peeping at the
esk expecting to see the tigure sitting
lere.
The Captain had not spoken for some
me, and was sitting with his face buried
i his hands. At last he suddenly looked
p, and said:
"Suppose we alter her course to northrest,
Mr. Brown?"
I don't know what it was; I cannot hope
5 make you understand the feeling in my
lind that followed those words?it was a
jnse of relief from a horrible nightmare,
was ashamed of the childish pleasure I
?lt, but I could not help answering eagerly,
Certainly: shall I give the order?"
I waited no longer, but hurried on deck
nd altered the course of the vessel.
It was a clear, frosty night, and as I lookd
at the compass before going below I felt r
trangely pleased, and caught myself chuckng
and rubbing my hands; at what, I
annot say?I didn't know then, but a great
, eight had been lifted off my mind.
I went down to the cabin, and found the
'aptain pacing up and down the small space,
le stopped as I came in, and, looking up,
aid abruptly:
"ft can do no harm, Mr. Brown."
"If this breeze continues," I answered, *
we can hold on for 30 hours or so; but <
hen, I should think?"
"But then we shall find ice. How's the
mid?"
"Steady, north by east." 3
We sat down and finished our grog. I
lad the morning watch to keep next day.
was too restless to sleep after it, so I kept
n deck the whole of the day. Even that c
[id not satisfy me. I was continually run- (
ling up into the tops with my glass, but
very time I came down disappointed. The .
Captain was as unquiet as myself. Some- .
hing we expected to happen, but of what ,
t was going to be we could form no idea. :
'he second officer, I believe, thought us
ioth crazy; indeed, I often wondered myelf
at the state I was in. Evening came .
nd nothing turned up. The night was
iright and the Captain determined to carry .
n under easy sail till morning.
Morning came, and with the first gray ,
ight I was on deck. It was bitterly cola. .
?nose only who have seen them can form
n idea of the delicate tints of the mornng
sky in those northern seas. But I was .
n no humor to appreciate the beauties of ,
lature. There wasii mist low down on the ,
lorizon; I waited impatiently for it to lift. >
t lifted soon, and I could not be mistaken?
>evond it I could see the shimmer of ice.
sent down to tell the Captain, who came j
m deck directly. !
"It's no use, Mr. Brown," he said; "you
oust put her about."
"Wait one moment; the mist is lifting (
nore; it will be quite clear directly." (
The mist was indeed lifting rapidly. ,
^ar to the north and west we could see the
ce stretching away in one unbroken field. ,
was trying to see whether there appeared
ny break in the ice toward the west, when ;
he Captain, siezing my arm with one hand
,nd pointing straight ahead with the other, ,
xclaimed: ;
"Good heavens! there is a ship there."
The mist had risen like a curtain, and ;
here, sure enough, about three miles ahead, j
vas a ship seemingly firmly packed in the
ce. We stood looking on in silence. There ,
vas some meaning after all in that mysteriius
warning, was the first thought that sug- ,
jested itself to me.
"She's nipped bad, sir," said old Shiel, '
vho, with the rest of the crew, wasanxiousy
watching our new discovery. I was tryng
to make her out with the glass when
he flash of a gun quickly followed by the
eport proved that she had seen us. Up
vent the flag, union downward. We neeaid
no signal to know of her distress. The
Captain ordered the second officer off into
he boat. I watched him as he made his
vay over the ice with a few of the men
oward the ship. They soon returned with
sight of the ship's crew. It was a dismal
iccount they gave of their situation. They
night have sawed their way out of the ice,
>ut the ship was so injured that she could
4 _ x _ i ? i rnu^ i -
ioc nave noaceu an nour. me largest ui
heir boats had been stove in; the others
vere hardly sea-worthy. They were premring,
however, to take them as a last re- ,
ource when our welcome arrival put an end !
o their fears. Another detachment was ;
oon brought off, and the Captain, with the ,
emainderof his crew, was to follow imme- !
liately. (
I went down to my cabin and tried to
hink over the singular fate which had
nade us the preservers of this ship's crew. (
could not divest myself of the idea that ,
ome supernatural agency was connected '
vith that paper in the desk, and I trembled
,t the thought of what might have been ;
he consequences if we had neglected the '
earning. The boat coming alongside in- ,
errupted my reverie. In a few seconds
! was on deck. (
I found the Captain talking to a tine old
ailor-like looking man, whom he introduced-to
me as Capt. Squires. Capt. Squires :
hook hands with me and we remained
alking some time. I could not keep my i
yes off his face; 1 had a conviction that I '
lad seen him somewhere, where I could
lot tell. Every now and then I seemed to
atch at some clue, which vanished as soon
is touched. At last he turned round to
peak of his men. I could not be mistakm?there
was the long, white hair, the
irown coat. He was the man I had seen ,
vriting in the Captain's cabin.
That evening the Captain and I told the (
tory of the paper to Capt. Squires, who
gravely and in silence listened to our con- (
ectures. He was too thankful for his escape
lutof such imminent peril to question the
neans by which it had been brought about.
U the Captain's request he wrote "Steer
sT. W." We compared it with the original
vriting. There could be no doubt of it. It
vas the same odd cramped hand. .
Can anyone solve the.mystery ? (
The Manufacture of Oilcloth.?In 1
naking floor oilcloth the process requires '
lraost as many manipulations in the way 1
if painting and polishing as a fine carriage 1
tody.^The body of all floor oilcloth is bur
ap. ine material is nrsi sizeu, wmui is
lone by treating it to a saturation of (lis- 1
olved glue. It passes then through fifteen J
leated wire rollers, which not only dries it,
>ut presses the glue water into the porous
naterial and removes all inequalities of 1
urface. It then passes to the paint rooms j
o receive its first and many subsequent 1
oats of paint, the principal ingredient of
vhich is ochre. The paint is liberally put !
in, and the cloth, after passing under a roll- 1
x to pres out superfluous paint, is run on 1
ong racks through a room in which are '
leated steam pipes. After remaining on 1
he racks a prescribed number of hours the \
loth is run through a machine where it is
>u in ice-stoned down to a perfect smooth- 1
less. Itthen receives a second coat of paint, '
nd is again pumice-stoned, and so on until 1
he requisite number of coats are put on on !
10th sides. The well-prepared material
iow goes into the hands of the printer. 1
This work isall done by hand and itrequires '
onsiderable experience on the part of the
vorkmen to make a good job. Every color (
equires a separate impression, the blocks
n the hands of the workmen being about
lighteen inches square, and great care must
le taken that the block is placed in the propx
place, as a hair's breadth displacement ,
vould show; also, that the proper blocks (
ire taken up in their order. After being ]
veil dried in steam-heated chambers, the :
low nearly finished piece of goods goes into \.
he varnishing machine, where a number of'.
rms with brushes attached and worked al-! j
nost in exact imitation of a painter's are (
>assed over it, giving it a complete and (
venly distributed coat, when, after drying ,
nd trimming, the article is ready for mar:et
Actions Speak Louder than Words. !
)ur daily actions speak either for good or !
11. No matter how much we may preach, 1
f we do not verify it by our actious, it is 1
ifttimes lost, but a good example is a lesson
if itself. If we would teach a child who
las arrived at years of understanding, how 1
nuch easier it would be to teach him by
lur example than by preaching to him.
Children's minds are very susceptible to the
nfluences that surround them. How comnon
is it to hear children say, "My mother i
ays so, or my father says so." How impor- <
ant then are all our actions, especially in ]
he familv where voung minds are being J
noulded. Think of this, parents, that your 11
ihiklren's minds and habits are being''
haped and formed from yours. The fami-!
y is a training school, and if you want your 1 <
hildren to grow up to be good, useful citi-!(
:ens, you must set the example. If you !'
vant them to become Christian men and j'
vomen, you must set the example. You '
:annot expect a child to grow to love the !
>abbath-school, if he is allowed to go or not (
is he pleases, and you never go with him. 1
The opinions expressed in the family are i
reasured up by the children. We learn
nore from precept and example than by
bought and study. Speak little, but prac- !
ice much.?Household.
IfirThe happiness of the human race in the
vorkl does not consist in our being devoid i
)f passions, but in our learning to command i
hem.
gliscfUimcGtts ftradiiig.
GRANT'S HISTORY OF THE WAR.
THE STORY OF A FROM A TTOX AS TOLD BY \
THE COXQUEROR.
Gen Grant's book, now in course of publi-j
?tion, will contain the following reminis- j
lences of Lee's surrender:
"I found that General Lee had been I
srought into our lines and conducted to a i
louse belonging to Mr. McLean, and was !
herewith one of his staff officers waiting
ny arrival. The head of his column was
>ccupying a hill, a portion of which was an
ipple orchard, across a little valley from
;he Courthouse. Sheridan's forces were
Jrawn up in line of battle on the west of a
lill on the South side of the same valley.
"Before stating what took place between
jlen. Lee and myself I will give all there
is of the narrative of Gen. Lee and the famous
apple tree. Wars produce many stones
of famous fiction, some of which are
x>ld until they are believed. The war of
,ne reuenion was iruuiui in musaun;
The story of the apple tree is one of those i
Actions with a slight foundation of fact. >
AlS I have said, there was an apple orchard '
sn the side of the hill occupied by the Con- 1
federate forces. Running diagonally up the
hill was a wagon road, which at one point
ran very near one of the trees, so that the
wheels on that side had cut off the roots of
the tree, which made a little embankment. 1
Sen. Babcock reported to me that when he
first met Gen. Lee, he was sitting upon this
embankment with his feet in the road and 1
leaning against the tree. It was then that <
Lee was conducted into the house where I
Brst met him. 1
"I had known Gen. Lee in the old army, '<
and had served with him in the Mexican
war, but did not suppose, owing to the difference
in our ages and rank, that he would
probably remember me, while I would remember
him more distinctly because he was
chief engineer on the staff of Gen. Scott in
the Mexican war. When I had left camp
that morning I had not expected the result
so soon that was then taking place, and consequently
was in rough garb, and, I believe,
without a sword, as I usually was when on
horseback on the field, wearing a soldier's
blouse for a coat, with shoulder straps of
my rank to indicate who I was to the array.
When I went into the house I found Gen.
Lee. We greeted each other and after shaking
hands took our seats. What his feelings
were I do not know. Being a man of much
dignity and with an impenetrable face, it
was impossible to say whether he felt inwardly
glad that the end had finally come
or whether he felt sadly over the result and
was too manly to show it. Whatever his
feelings were they were entirely concealed
from observation. But my own feelings,
which had been quite apparent on receipt
of his letter was sad ana depressed. I felt
like anything rather than rejoicing at the
downfall of a foe that had fought so long
and gallantly, and had suffered so much
for a cause which I believed to be one of
the worst for which a people ever fought,
and for which there was not the least pretext.
I do not question, however, the sincerity
of the great mass of those who were
opposed to us.
"Gen. Lee was dressed in full uniform,
entirely new, and wearing a sword of coniidnrahlo
\mln? vopw Hbplv thp swnrd that
had been presented by the State of Virginia.
At all events it was an entirely different
3\vord from one that would ordinarily be
worn in the field. In my rough traveling
suit, which was the uniform of a private
with the straps of a general, I must have
contrasted very strongly with a man so
handsomely dressed, six feet high and of
faultless form. But this was not a matter
that I thoughtof until afterwards. Gen. Lee
and I soon fell into conversation about old
army times. He remarked that he remembered
me very well in the old army, and I
told him, as a matter of course, I remembered
him perfectly, but owing to difference
in years, there beingabout sixteen years differerence
in our ages and our rank, I thought
it very likely I had not attracted his attention
sufficiently to be remembered after
such a long period. Our conversation grew
so pleasant that I almost fafgot the object
of our meeting. Gen. Lee, at that time
was accompanied by one of his staff officers,
Col. Marshall. I had all of my staff with
me, a good portion of whom were in the
room during the whole of the interview."
AN APOLOGY TO M'COOK.
"In the article on the battle of Shiloh,
which I wrote for the Century Magazine, I
3tated that Gen. A. McD. McCook, who
commanded the division of Buell's army,
sxpressed some unwillingness to pursue the
enemy on Monday, April 7, because of the
condition of his troops. Gen. Badeau, in
his history, also makes the same statement
an my authority. Out of justice to Gen.
McCook and his command 1 must say that
they left a point twenty-two miles east of
Savannah on the morning of the nth. From
the heavy rains of a few days previous and
the passage of trains and artillery the roads
were necessarily deep in mud, which made
marching slow. The division had not only
marched through this mud the dav before,
but it had been in the rain all the night
without rest. It was engaged in the battle
of the second day and did as good service as
its position allowed; in fact, an opportunity
occurred for it to perform a conspicuous act
of gallantry, which elictied the highest commendation
from division commanders in the
army of Tennessee. Gen. Sherman in both
his memoirs and report makes mention of
this fact. Gen. McCook himself belonged
1" '* A* 21 rvinnif \taIiih_
IU il J ill I i 1iy W lllV.il iUililOll^U 1UUIIJ v UUIUteers
to the army. I refer to these circumstances
with minuteness because I did Gen.
McCook injustice in my article in the Century,
though not to the extent one would
suppose from the public press. I am not
willing to do any one an injustice, and if
convinced that I have done one I am always
willing to make the fullest admission."
THE CAPTURE OF VICKSBURG.
"A Vicksburg newspaper, (which we received
regularly while before Vicksburg,
through the courtesy of the Itebel pickets,)
said prior to the 4th, in speaking of the
'Yankee' boast that they would take dinner
in Vicksburg that day, that the best recipe
for cooking a rabbit was, 'Catch your rabbit
first.' This paper at this time and for some
time previous was printed on the plain side
[>f wall paper. The last number was printed
on the 4th, and announced that we had
'caught our rabbit.' I have no doubt that
Peinberton commenced his correspondence j
on the 3d with a two fold purpose, first to I
avoid an assault which he knew would be !
successful, and second to prevent the cap-1
ture taking place on the great national holi-1
day, the anniversary of the Declaration of;
American Independence, by holding out for ::
better terms as he did. lie defeated his j,
aim in the latter particular. On the 4th of j (
July at the appointed hour the garrison of
Vicksburg marched out of their works and |
formed a line in front, stacked arms and j
marched back in good order. Our whole ;
army present witnessed this scene without i
ohnnrinor ,inrl withnnt. n sniP-lo offensive re
k^KVVt?Mb .f. .. ~ O ? I
mark that I ever heard of. Logan's divis-!:
ion, which had approached nearest the Reb- j
si works, was the first to inarch in, and the
flag of one of the regiments of his division
was soon floating over the Courthouse. The
campaign of Vicksburg was suggested and
developed by circumstances. The elections !
of 1802 had gone against the prosecution
of the war. Voluntary enlistments had j
nearly ceased, and a draft had been resorted
to. This was resisted, and defeat
or a backward movement would have made <
its execution impossible. A forward move- i
ment to decisive victory was necessary. ! i
Accordingly I resolved to get below Vicks- <
burg, unite with Banks against Port Hud- i
son, make New Orleans a base, and with ;;
that base and Grand Gulf as the starting i (
point move our combined forces against j (
Vicksburg. Upon reaching Grand Gulf, af- 1
ter running its batteries and fighting a bat- {
tie, I received a letter from Banks inform- i
ing me that he could not he at Port Hudson :
mder ten days, and then with only 15,000
nen. Time was worth more than reinorcements.
I therefore determined to push
nto the interior of the enemy's country.
With a large river behind us, held above
ind below by the enemy, rapid movements
,vere essential to success. Jackson was capered
the day after a new commander had
irrived and when large reinforcements were
laily expected. A rapid movement was
made and the garrison of Vicksburg was
net in five battles and badly defeated. The
nty was then successfully besieged."
GRANT'S MEETING WITH LINCOLN.
No reminiscence of war history will be
read with greater interest than Gen. Grant's
account of his first meeting with Lincoln
and Lincoln's charge to him.
"Although hailing from Illinois myself,
the State of the President, I had never met
Lincoln until called to the Capital to receive
my commission as Lieutenant-General. I
knew him, however, very well and favorably
from accounts given by officers under^
me at the West who had known him all
their lives. I had also read a remarkable
course of debates between Lincoln and
Douglas a few years before when they were
rival canrlididates for the United States
Senate. I was then a resident of Missouri
und by no means a Lincoln man in that
contest, but I recognized his great ability.
In my first interview with Lincoln alone
he stated to me that he had never professed
to be a military man or to know how campaigns
should be conducted and never wanted
to interfere in them, but that procrastination
on the part of commanders and the
pressure of the people at the North and of
Congress, which, 'like the poor he had alalways
with him,' had forced him into issuing
his well-known series of executive orders.
He did not know but that they were
all wrong and he did know that some of
them were. All he wanted, or had ever
wanted, he said, was that some one would
take the responsibility and act and call on
him for all the assistance needed."
CHARLES DENLY.
Colonel Charles Denly, of Evansville, Indiana,
who was appointed on May 30th, 1885,
to succeed John Russell Young as Minister
to China, is, by birth, a Virginian, having
been born in Botetourt county, of that State,
June 30th, 1830. He was educated partly at
Georgetown, I). C., and whilst there received
three medals for excelling in his studies.
He graduated at the Virginia Military Institute,
and in 1853, removed to Evansville,
where he was employed by the Daily Enquirer,
supporting himself thus whilst he
was studying law in the office of Baker &
Garvin. He was admitted to the bar in
1855, and in the following year was sent to
the State legislature, where he served with
distinction. He was appointed by James
Buchanan surveyor of the port of Evansville,
and continued in this office for three
years. Upon the outbreak of the late war,
he served as Lietenant-Colonel of the 42nd
Regiment, Indiana Volunteers, and subsequently
became Colonel of the 19th Regiment.
After a service of three years he resigned,
having been twice wounded during
his service. Devoting himself to his profession,
Colonel Denly became one of the
most distinguished barristers of his section.
He was frequently pressed to accept the
nomination for Congress, but always declined.
He, in conjunction with Mr. Kember,
formed the law firm of Denly & Kember.
In 1858, Mr. Denly was married to
Miss Fitch, a daughter of ex-United States
Senator G.N. Fitch, ofLogansport, Indiana.
Colonel Denly, besides being thoroughly
conversant with the French and Spanish
languages, is well versed in Oriental affairs
and will, doubtless, make a most acceptable
Minister to that country. John Russell
Young, whom he succeeded, is well known
to the public as the companion of General
Grant, during the hitter's tour of the world,
and as the author of the work describing
the same.
The Drugs of China.?"It is very well
to laugh at our system of medicine," says a
Celestial druggist in Brooklyn, "but it is no
better nor worse than the civilized. In fact
the two are very much alike. This black
burned paper here isthe same thing exactly
as the charcoal tablets of allopathy and the
carbo wgetalis of homeopathy. When an
American has an acrid stomach he takes
lime water, potash or magnesia; that is an
alkali. A Chinese does practically the same
in using roasted oyster shell. Doctors here
prescribe phosphites and other substances
rich in phosphorus for sickly and weak constitutions.
Our doctors give a stew made
from dried lizzards for the same purpose.
It is very rich in phosphorus, and what
is more, it has a virtue American medicines
never have?it has a very agreeable taste.
Our solid extracts are similar to those used
by civilized physicians. Menthol, a new
remedy in New York State, has been used
in China 2,000 years. Of course we have
remedies unknown in this country. We
employ the extract of the wild tomato
where they use mercury here, and for cathartics
the extracts of fruits, where here
they prescribe nauseous drugs. But we do
not use such nasty things as bees' stings,
snakes' poison and powdered vermin, as
American homeopaths do. Our medicines
are not costly. Our opium iseheaper, better
and purer than the European. Our medicinal
wines are finer and our extiactsare more
uniform in quality. In China a man who
adulterates medicines is put to death lest he
kill others. Ilere they arrest the offender,
and, if the newspapers tell the truth, let
him go shortly afterward without punishment."
-4- + -
Petroleum.?The Scientific American
says: "The history of the oil trade in this
country does not furnish a parallel to the
effect of recent developments. The result of
the penetration of a certain rock 1600 feet
befow the surface in the wilderness of
Warren county, Pa., has been to form anew
the map of the oil regions, to depreciate the
"' n l.rt ^51 oK/-,trn orrnimrl 05.10 000 000
V illuu ui tiic yjii auutv yVvv,wvvrvv
barrels) 30 cents per barrel, or a total shinksige
of $9,000,000 and to enrich a few and
impoverish many. When the oil rock was
pierced on May 18, the yield was 14,000
barrels per day. To day it gives S00 barrens.
Three other wells near it produced
from 2,000 to 3,000 barrels daily, and they
have all been bored since May. A town
has sprung up near the wells, and it has
been called Garfield City.
Glucose.?The manufacture of glucose
jr grape sugar in this country now employs
1 capital of $10,000,000; employs 4,575 workmen,
who are yearly paid $2,580,750 in wag*s
; consumes $13,703,000 worth of raw and
manufactured material yearly, and in the
same time yields a product worth $18,270,X)0.
Each year there can be made about
510,000,000 pounds of corn sugar, and (51,000
Dushels of corn are used daily, each bushel
giving 32 pounds of glucose. The glucose
mgar can be made with profit, it is said, at
2 cents a pound.
A SACRED SPOT.
R UIXS OF THE SYSAGOG UE AT CAPERS A VM
WHERE CHRIST TAUGHT.
Perhaps the most interesting spot in the
world to those deeply under the influence of
that charm which association lends to places
hallowed by the ministrations of the Founder
of Christianity is to be found in a desertrock-strewn
promontory on the northwest
shore of the Lake of Tiberias; for among
the piles of hewn blocks of black basalt still
remain the ruins of a great synagogue, within
whose walls, the foundations of which
may still be distinctly traced, were collected
the multitudes who flocked to hear the
teachings of Christ. While modern tourists
resort in crowds to Jerusalem to visit the
mythical sites which are supposed, upon the
vague basis of ecclesiastical tradition, to be
identified with the great Teacher, scarcely
one ever finds his way to this remote locality
lying just out of the beaten track along
which Cook leads his herds of sightseers;
and yet it is probable that the greater part
of that period in the lifeof Christ, the record
oi wnicn is coniaineain ine lour uospeis,
was spent in Capernaum, which the most
careful investigation, by the highest authorities
in such matters, has identified with
these ruins of Tell Hum, amid which I was
just now standing. Here it was that Christ
cured Peter's mother-in-law, restored the
paralytic called Matthew, cured the centurian's
servant, raised Janus' daughter from
the dead, and obtained the tribute of money
from the mouth of a fish. It was here that
He spoke the parables of the sower, the
tares, the treasure hid in the field, the merchant
seeking goodly pearls, and the net
cast into the sea. Sir Charles Wilson, whose
researches on this spot led him to identify it
as being the site of the city of Capernaum,
believes thissynagogue was, "withoutdoubt,
the one built by the Itoman centurian (Luke
vii., 5), and, therefore, one of the most sacred
spots on earth*" It was in this building, if
this be the case, that the well-known discourse
contained in the sixth chapter ox* John
was delivered; and it was not without a
strange feeling, says the same explorer, "that
on turning over a large block we found the
pot of manna engraved on its face and remembered
the words: 'I am that bread of
life. Your fathers did eat manna in the
wilderness and are dead.' "
This very synagogue was probably the
scene of the healing of the demoniac and of
the delivery of many of those divine lectures
on faith, humility, brotherly love, and
formality in worship, as we read at the end
of one of them: "These things said he in
the synagogue at Capernaum." Perhaps it
was in the little creek where a boat was
now riding at anchor only a few feet from
the shore, that Christ taught the people from
the boat so as to avoid the crush of the multitude.
It was doubtless in one of these
inlets that James, the son of Zebedee, and
John, his brother, were mending their nets,
when, being called, they left their ship and
followed Him ; and it was on this coast that
Andrew and Peter were casting their nets
when they were summoned to become fishers
- rx t t_ ! ? 1 U,. ^11,^1
oi men. it nus a, xngnur eiaim w? uc wicu
the birthplace of the religion which has since
done more to revolutionize the world than
any other spot upon it.?New York Sun.
Tiie Burro.?Apart from the Indians and
the Mexicans, these animals are the most
characteristic and ubiquitous objects in New
Mexico. The shaggy little brutes range
from the size of a small Newfoundland dog
to that of a six months old heifer. It is practically
impossible to overload them. They
will carry all that can be piled on their
backs. I have frequently seen a solid heap
of wood gliding mysteriously into town,
with no apparent motive power, but I knew
that somewhere underneath the pile there
was hidden a burro. When released trom
their burdens they will immediately set to
work with diligence and gusto picking up a
living in the midst of stones and dry cactus,
where any other animal would starve
to death. Joe proceeded to attach them by
a wonderful series of knots to the supporting
posts under the house. I watched him
curiously as he tied knot after knot, and at
length ventured to inquire whether burros
usually employed their spare time in performing
juggling tricks.
Joe regarded me with a smile which was
compounded of one part good natured contempt,
two of superior knowledge, and three
of genuine amusement.
"Wa'al," he said, you are summat of a
tenderfoot; that's so. Why, a burro is a
born devil."
"Do you mean to say that a burro can
undo one of these knots with his teeth?" I
asked.
"I don't profess to say what he does it
with. He may do it with his tail for all I
know, but if vou will learn me a knot that
a burro can't undo, if you give him time
enough, I will tell you thanks. Why, the
father of all evil is not a patch on an old jack
burro for infernal cleverness and mischief."
Harper's Magazine.
Sunlit Rooms.?No article of furniture
should be put in a room that will not stand
sunlight, for every room in a dwelling house
should have the windows so arranged that
sometime during the day a flood of sunlight
will force itself into the apartment.
The importance of admitting the light or
the sun freely to all parts of our dwellings
can not be too highly estimated. Indeed
perfect health is nearly as much dependent
on pure sunlight'as it is on pure air. Sunlight
should never be excluded except when
so bright as to be uncomfortable to the
eyes. And walks should be in a bright
sunlight, so that the eyes are protected by a
veil or parasol when the light is too intense.
A sun-bath is of more importance in preserving
a healthful condition of body than
is generally understood. A sun-bath costs
nothing, and that is a misfortune, for people
are deluded with the idea that tnose
things can only be good or useful which cost
money. But remember that pure water,
fresh air and sunlit homes, kept free from
dampness, will secure you from many heavy
bills of the doctor, and give you health and
vigor which no monev can procure. It is
now a well established fact that the people
who live much in thesun are usually stronger
and more healthy than those whose occupation
deprives them of sunlight. And
certainly there is nothing strange in the
result, since the law applies with equal
force to every animate thing in nature. It
is quite easy to arrange an isolated dwelling
so that every room may be flooded with
sunlight sometime in the day and it is possible
that many town houses can be so built
as to admit more light than they now receive.
Curious Origin of a Word.?Many
words in the English language are of curious
origin. Some have taken their origin
from men, events, or places. For instance,
the word "Cabal," meaning a "number 01
persons united for some purpose," dates
back to the time of Charles II. He was a
very able sovereign at the beginning of his
reign, but, afterward cared more for festivities
than for the welfare of his subjects.
When the money in the treasury was very
low, he undertook a war with Holland, but
was forced to make a treaty of peace.
In order to protect the people, five ministers,
Clifford, Arlington, Buckingham, Ashley
and Lauderdale, were chosen in 1668.
These ministers made their meetings secret
and divulged nothing to the public. All
proclamations issued were signed with the
initials, only, of the ministers, and appeared
at the bottom, thus, C. A. B. A. L. The
people became so used to this signature that
they always called them the Cabal. Hence,
the word went into general use to signify a
clique.?Fountain.
How Half a Century of Life isSpent.
A man, during his lifetime of fifty years, according
to a paper read recently before the
Academy of Sciences, Paris, sleeps away an
aggregate of 6,000 days, works away the
same period, eats away 2,000 days, walks
away 800 days, is ill 500 days, and amuses
himself with the remainder of his half-century
on earth.