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lewis m. grist, proprietor. | % |nftcpcitbcnf Jfamxip ftriospaptr: Jior % promotion: of % |)oIitical, SoriitI, Jgritalforal anir Comnttrtial jfnftrtsfs of fljr SSonfjr. | terms--i2.50 a year, in advance. . vol. 32. yoekville, s c., thursday, may 6, 1886. no. 18. Original jltorg. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. AMOS BARTON. BY L. D. OZMOND. CHAPTER X. When Susie went to bed that night, she was visited by strange dreams, and her usually tranquil sleep was restless and disturbed. It was after midnight when she was aroused by a knock at her door, and her sister Myra called to her to get up at once, as she was wanted. "Who wants me?" she asked, springing up in alarm. "A sick man at Mrs. Morton's." "Are you sure, Myra? There must be some mistake," said Susie, as she opened her door and admitted her sister. "No, there's no mistake; though it does -..nn" " uniniriarl \f\7rfl "Tnm TVTor 5CCI1J V.JUCC1 y ivjUi uvu 4<aj 4v?* ? ton brought the message, and he's waiting to walk to his mother's with you." "I know they have a boarder," said Susie, hurrying on her clothes, "but I didn't know he was sick, and why he should want to see me, I can't imagine. Won't you come with me, Myra ?" "Indeed, I won't," promptly returned that young lady. "I am not wanted, and I am sure I have no desire to tramp out this chilly night and get my death of cold." "Then ask father to go." "Now, Susie, how can you want to drag poor father out of his comfortable bed at this hour, when you know he isn't well ? Why do you want anybody to go with you ? Isn't Tom protection enough ?" "Oh! yes, I suppose so?only?it would "seem better for another to go, too. I can't imagine why that man should wish to see me, can you?" "Of course not; but you will find out, I suppose, when you get there. Hurry, Susie; here's your cloak?have you got your hat already ? There now, you look well enough for a midnight expedition." And Myra hurried her sister off, anxious to return to her own warm couch, where she might speculate at her ease.in regard to the meaning of the strange summons which had been brought to the house. Tom Morten, who was waiting below, greeted Susie briefly, regarding her with furtive inquiry in his glance. Outside the door she took his proffered arm, and they walked a little way in silence. "Tom," she said timidly at last, "what is the meaning of this message ?" "I thought you might tell me that," he rejoined. "I!?how?"?why, I don't know anything about it." "I3ou you know Bland?" "Your boarder? no; I don't think I have ever seen him." "He knows you. He had a fainting fit after die had gone up to nis room; momer heard him fall, and ran in; and the first thing he said when he revived was 'Send at once for Susan, Amos Barton's wife.' " "How very strange!" "So I thought; and mother fancied there might be some mistake; but when she questioned him he said the same thing, distinctly over and over; he has something of importance, I think, to say to you." "I cannot understand it," said Susie. "Well, I suppose it will soon be explained." "Is he dangerously ill?" "He thinks he's dying." Susie uttered a little sound of commisseration, and after this nothing more wassaid until Mrs. Morton's cottage was reached. "Will you come right into his room?" Tom asked then as ..they passed through the door. "I?suppose so," was her rather tremulous response. The strangeness of her errand frightened her a little, and it was with a beating heart that she entered the low room where Mrs. Morton, kneeling beside the bed, was supporting the sick man on his pillow. The widow turned at her entrance and greeted her civilly, but coldly. Susie advanced timidly a little way, and stood still. Mr. Bland's eyes were closed, but he opened them almost immediately, and catching sight of her, half raised him?Alf with an ea^er look. "Come!" he said extending his hand. "Quick before it is too late." Then she recognized him as the man whom she had met outside her gate, and who had asked for water. It surprised her to find that this was the case, but it also reassured her in some degree, affording as it seemed to her, some clue to his motive in wishing to see her. She came forward at once and stood on the side of the bed opposite Mrs. Morton. "I must see you alone said Mr. Bland imperatively. Mrs. Morton and her son withdrew. "Fasten the door'" said the sick man. Wonderingly Susie obeyed. "Now sit down here close by me. I can't talk very loud ; my strength is failing. Did they tell you I was dying?" "They said that you were dangerously ill," faltered Susie. "Child, I am dying. I know it well enough. It is not as I thought it would be?no, no. This is the hand of God, and it is well that it is so. lie has heard my prayer. But you don't understand me; how should you ? No matter about that. I want to talk to you about your husband. Do you remembe r him ?" "Remember him ??my husband ?" The unexpected question had made her recoil, and her answer, if answer it could be called, was given breathlessly. "Yes, Amos Barton. I knew him well?I was his closest friend. I was with him when?was with him in California, and elsewhere. "Were you with him when he died?" asked Susie, in an awe-struck tone. "He left a message for you," said the sick man, unheeding the question. "I atn glad to be able to see you in time. Listen?he sent you, first, his dear love." Susie's face sank upon her hands. "Hecharged me to seek you and tell you what he said. He said that he had tried to make you happy, but had failed; and prayed you not to blame him for his failure, but to believe that he had done his best." "Yes, I know, I know!" cried Susie. "Why did he send me this message ?" "Because he found out too late, what a mistake he had made. He found out?too late?that you?cared for some one else." "Oh ! hush," said poor Susie,checking her sobs in terror as she glanced around. "Listen, poor child; he did not blame you ; nothing was farther from his thoughts. He felt that you were wronged, unconsciously by him ; and his last wish was to make reparation." "He did me no wrong; it was I?I?" "Hush! I know the whole story." lfe paused, struggled a moment for breath, and went on. "You see, 1 was such a dear friend; and it comforted him to confide it to me. And he wished you to know that you had his full and free consent to marry again if ever your heart should prompt you to return to your early love." "Did?he?say that ?" "Yes. Why should he not? he valued your happiness beyond everything else. Don't you believe this?" "Yes, yes, indeed! he was most generous?most kind." "Ah!"?a spasm as of pain crossed the sick man's face; he turned away his eyes, holding out his hand, in which she mechanically placed her own. "Did you love him?a little?" he asked in a low tone; then before she could reply, he added hastily, "no, I have no right to ask you that. It is past?all past. But you are sure you forgive me?" "Forgive?you?" "I meant Aim, of course. I think you do. Anri hp sjiid?nh. ves: there was something else. He put his hand in his breast and drew out a little package. "I have always worn it here," he said. "It was sacred. Bury it with me?don't let them lose?" Susie arose, terrified; his eyes were wandering, and he was evidently bewildered; was this death? She did not know; she was about to call out, but he seemed suddenly to compose himself. "Tell him to come here," he said. "Who?" "The man you love?Morton." "No, no." She shrank back. "I cannot." "Well, let it be so then. But Susan, you will marry him will you not?" "I think I must go now," said poor Susie, feeling nearly beside herself. "Let me call Mrs. Morton." He looked at her fixedly, still holding her hand. As if fascinated, she returned the gaze?what was it in his face that seemed so strangely familiar? "Stay with me," he said softly and smiled. A cloud came over her eyes. Her heart beat almost to suffocation, and she fell fainting upon the pillow. When her senses slowly returned, she found that Tom and his mother were in the room, having entered by the window on hearing the sick man cry out. Tom was holding her in his arms and bathing her forehead. Mrs. Morton was bending over Mr. Bland, on whose face had settled an ashen hue. He no longer noticed her, but the little packet was still clasped in his hand. Before morning he was dead?and his secret had died with him. The packet was not opened. If it had been it would have been found to contain a likeness of Susie, and a lock of her brown hair. Susie did not see hi in again, and it was well for her peace of mind that it was so. For if in his dying face she had read that which had so startled her, the wild momentary conjecture* which had then flashed across her bewildered brain would have perhaps taken a definite form and shape, from the aspect of his features in their last repose, which would have haunted her to her life's end. No one else read a history in it. In that quiet town he iiad been little known ; and if strangers in adjusting his disguise marveled somewhat that he should have chosen to wear it, their wonder was but fleeting, and they thought of him afterwards, if at all, as an eccentric personage who, for some reason which concerned himself alone, had devised this means of baffling inquiry, and living undisturbed apart from the world. ****** "I suppose, Susie, you won't put me off * 11 auy longer, now. A twelvemonth had passed since the events last recorded; during which period various circumstances had combined to keep the lovers apart. Mr. Bland's death had been speedily followed by that of Mr. Dean, whose health had been poor for some time, and scarcely had the household settled down afterwards into its usual routine, when the children all fell ill with scarlatina. One of the little girls suffered severely from the effects of the disease, so that it became necessary for her to have a change of air, and early in the summer Susie removed with her to the seaside, where they remained several weeks. Not long after their return home, Mrs. Morton was summoned to a distant city, to stay with a sick relative, and her son accompanied her, taking advantage of the opportunity to transact some business which required hisattention, and remaining in her vicinity until she was ready to start on her homeward journey. At last, however, everybody was back in their old places; and now Tom had ample leisure to renew his suit, and to press for a settlement of the question which Susie had so long delayed answering. "No, Tom," she said quietly, when he broached the subject, "I suppose I ought not to make you wait any longer. But I know, and you must know too, of a serious | obstacle in the way of my marrying you." "A new obstacle?" Tom frowned. "No, not a new one. I mean your mother's dislike to me. In old times she used to be my very good friend, but all that is changed now." "Well, Susie, you must forgive her. It isn't that she dislikes you?nobody could do that?but of course she thought you treated me badly, and that is why she has been less cordial to you than before." "Yes, I suppose that's natural; she thinks me fickle and heartless," said Susie. "And : it won't oe pieasani ior me 10 man^ ^uu j against her wishes. If it were your cousin, j she would be much better pleased." "Bother my cousin," said Tom. "It's no I use for you to talk any nonsense like that, j Susie. I should never marry any one but i you?never ; I love my mother dearly, but I twenty mothers couldn't settle a matter like j this, or hinder me from marrying the girl | I love. You need not worry yourself about j her; she's too really good, and too fond of | me, to want to stand in the way of my lifei long happiness. So let us consider the ; point settled?and the next question is when shall it be?" But it took a little more time to decide j this. Tom had a long talk with his mother, | and Mrs. Morton, after some faint expostui lations and a good many tears, was finally brought to admit that she knew of no girl j whom she really preferred to Susie for a | daughter-in-law, and that if her boy's hap! piness depended upon this marriage, she did not wish to oppose it. So, that difficulty being overcome, and a friendly feeling between the old and the young woman reestablished, there really seemed no reason! able cause for further delay. The weddingday was accordingly appointed, a few invitations were sent out, and the ceremony took place in a very quiet and unostentatious manner at the bride's handsome residence, Jack enjoying the felicity of serving as best man on the occasion. Thus Tom's long cherished wish was at last fulfilled, and the dream of his youth realized. He had won Susie for his wife. II was true that this realization of his hopes was not quite all that it would have beer had that disagreeable episode of her firs) marriage not come between ; but it was still sufficiently full of joy to satisfy him ; and ir Susie's eyes the somewhat restless and fitful light of a new-born happiness gradually softened into a deep and tranquil content, In years she wasstill but a girl, and it would have been strange had her natural lightheartedness not re-asserted itself; yet it was only by degrees that she was able to throw off the depressing influences of the past, and it was. perhaps, not until the blue eyes of her baby-boy first smiled upon her thai the shadow was entirely lifted from hei spirit. The advent of this household treasure also removed any lingering coolness or the part of the elder Mrs. Morton, who was thenceforth ready to declare that she had nothing more to wish for in the world. Somebody has said that tragedies are being continually acted around usof which we have no suspicion, take no note. Nay, the very actors themseves are sometimes unconsciousof the parts they play. The smooth waters of Susie's life had indeed been ruffled by a passingstorm ; but she little guessed how complete and how close at hand had been the wreck of another life, which thai storm had swept into oblivion, beneath hei very eyes?eyes that were blinded and saw not. What did it matter? It had been a commonplace life enough; it had played its part silently, and as silently vanished, and leaving no trace behind. And "John Bland" slept in his solitary grave?solitary, although surrounded by many others, because none of his kindred were near. The spot was not neglected; the turf above it was kept green, and roses, in the season of flowers, shed their bloom and perfume around. Far off, in Lone Mountain cemetery, a marble stone, standing in a handsome enclosure, still presents to the eyes of passersby the record of Amos Barton's death. Here, too, are evidences of care and attention bestowed upon the cultivation of the floral treasures which make the cities of the dead lovely, and rob them of their gloom. A liberal sum of money is paid yearly tc have the place kept in order; and people pause to admire the snowy blossoms ol "Madame Plantier," and never guess thai the stone's record is a fiction, and that Amos Barton does not really sleep below. [the end.] J. HARRIS ROGERS. J. Harris Rogers, the inventor and originator of the Pan-Electric Patents, is the virtual head of the Pan-Electric and other companies formed in opposition to the Bell monopoly. l)r. J. Webb Rogers, (the father of J. Harris Rogers), of whom so much has been said in the newspapers, is of a somewhat "flighty" temperament, and, therefore, not so well equipped, mentally, for business, as his son is. It was the elder Rogers who wrote the satirical poem which caused so much comment and amusement before the Investigation Committee. The Pan-Electric Patents are about twenty in number, and have been issued in Canada and Mexico, and patents are applied for in England and other countries of Europe. The telephone, on which the present action is based, is, of course, the most important, besides this, there is a complete, system of telegraphing, an electric light apparatus and a telemorph, an instrument for seeing at great distances?via wire. The cause for the action against the Bell Company, to annultheir patents, lies in the assertion that Bell was nottheoriginal inventor of the telephone; that ere he tiled his petition there had been a caveat entered by other parties; that Bell, by fraud, gained an insight into the caveat, previously filed, and thus was enabled to complete his invention and gain letters patent. It is also claimed that Bell did not at first know that his invention was a telephone, but supposed it to be a new system of telegraphy. When the PanElectric Company was formed the stock was distributed among various public men, among whom was Attorney-General Garland. To make the Pan-Electric stock of any value it became necessary to annul the patent of Bell, and an action is now in progress to accomplish this. The Eagle and its Prey.?In hunting for their prey, the eagle and his mate mutu ally assist eacn otner. it may nere oe mentioned that the eagles are all monogamous, keeping themselves to a single mate and living together in the most perfect harmony through their lives. Should, however, one of them die or be killed, thesurvivor is not long left in a state of widowhood, but banished from the spot for a few days and then returns with a new mate. It is a rather remarkable fact, that, whereas the vultures feed their young by disgorging the food which they have taken into their crops, the eagles carry their prey to their nests and there tear it to pieces, and feed the eaglets with the morsels. When in pursuit of its prey it is a most audacious bird, having been seen to carry off a hare from before the noses of the hounds. It is a keen fisherman, catching and securing salmon and various sea fish with singular skill. Sometimes it has met with more than its match, and has seized upon a fish that was too heavy for its powers, thus falling a victim to its sporting propensities. Mr. Lloyd mentions several instances where eagles have been drowned by pouncing upon large pike, which carried their assailants under water and fairly drowned them. In more than one instance the feet of an eagle have been seen firmly clinched in the pike's back, the body of the bird having decayed and fallen away. have been more and more convinced, the more I think of it, that in general pride is at the bottom of all great mistakes. All the other passions do occasional good; but whenever pride puts in its word everything goes wrong; and what it might really be desirable to do quietly and innocently, it is mortally dangerous to do proudly.?liitskin. ;:Ujft$(ell8nt0U!$ Reading. ' i WEATHER WISDOM IN BIRDS AND NATl'RE. M The man who is out of doors at sunrise I can form a pretty accurate opinion of what ' the day will be. If just before sunrise the ' sky?especially in the west?is suffused with r red, rain generally follows in the course of the day. In winter, often snow. If, how1 ever, it be frosty weather, the downfall is sometimes delayed. On the other hand, if 5 the sky be a dull grey, and the sun rises r clear, gradually dispersing the vapors, it ? will be fine. If he retires behind the 5 clouds, and there are reddish streaks about k it, it will rain. Should the sun, later in the day, shine through a grey watery haze, it ' will probably be a rainy night. i mi. _ - ? ??/\??? KvtwAlSnklA Offnri n 1 ine SUUSCl IS \ciy uuiciiuuic. vutii t? 5 beautiful sunset will be followed by a bad ' day. After a rainy day, suddenly at sunset, in the far west, will appear a magnifi cent streak of crimson (not copper-color)? > this generally foreteUs a fine day. A tinted 5 halo round the sun at setting occurs in long continued rainy weather. A halo round the 1 moon, especially if some distance from it, is a sure indication of down-fall at hand. Rainbows are unreliable, except they oc' cur in the morning, when rain may be ext pected. Sun-dogs, and fragments of pris' matic colors during the day, show continued r unsettled weather. A dazzling metallic 1 lustre on foliage, during a cloudless day in 1 summer, precedes a change. Huge piled up masses of white cloud in a blue sky, during winter, indicate snow or r hail. If small, dark clouds boat below the ' upper ones, movii g faster than they, rain I will follow, as it will if, in the morning, low! hanging, pale brown, smoke-like clouds are i floating about. Red-tinged clouds, high up, 1 at evening, are followed by wind, occasionally by rain. 1 Mists at evening over low lying ground, or near a river, precede fine and warm days. ' If a mist in the morning clears off as the sun gets higher, it will be fine; but if itset ties down again after lifting a little, rain is ! at hand. No dew in the morning is mostly ! followed by rain; and a heavy dew in the evening by a fine day. Rain follows two or 1 three consecutive hoar frosts. A shower of ! hail in the day-time is usually followed by : frost at night. If, after rain, drops of water ; still hang on the branches and twigs, and to ' window frames, the rain will return ; but if they fail, and the wood-work dries, fine weather is at hand. Stones turn damp before wet; at the same time it must be observed that the fact of their doing so does not invariably indicate rain, for they will do so occasionally before heat. Smoke descending heavily to the ground is a sign of very doubtful weather. Objects at great distances, which are gen II.. nunn nnf coon ot tjrjuiy iiiui9iiuv.tiay .->ccu, ui ^ivh wu>. .? all, sometimes loom out clear and distinct. When this happens, bad weather or change of wind ensues. A well-known instance of this is the Isle of Wight, as seen from the South sea. If the opposite shore is clearly seen, there is rain about. If, at night, after being blown out and exposed to the outer air, the wick of a ca'niile continues to smoulder a long time, the next day will be fine. Green colored sky betokens unsettled bad weather, often long continued. If, on a tine day, the dust suddenly rise in a revolving spiral column, rain is near. The howling of the wind indicates, in most houses, but not invariably, that downfall is near. In some houses, owing to their construction, the wind always moans. Wherever the wind is at the time of the ' vernal equinox (March 21, and thereabouts), thatwillbe the prevailing wind throughout the next three mouths. If the stars appear unusually numerous, and the "milky way" very clearly defined, with the surrounding sky dark, or if there be a misty appearance over the stars, rain is coming, while if there be but few stars, and those very bright and sparkling, in a pale steely sky, it will be tine. 1 Swine, before rain, are unusually noisy and restless. Swallows in line weather will fly high, and at the approach of rain, close to the ground; but the latter does not apply if the day is cold, in which case they hawkvery low. Common sparrows washing vigorously in a puddle on the road, or at the edge of running water, is a sure sign of rain. A baker, who kept a parrot in the dry atmosphere of the bake-oflices, noticed that a few hours before rain the bird took an imaginary bath, I ' fluttering, at if splashing water, and preenI ing her feathers.?CawelPs Family 3faf/azine. _ THE EVOLUTION OF STATES. 1 The curious process of evolution by which 1 j States in the American Union are made j is aptly illustrated in the case of Dakota. It was originally a part of the terri1 tory claimed by France, and styled New France, including what is now Canada, the entire Northwest, and all the terri1 tory west of the Mississippi River, throughout its entire extent from the frozen North ; to the Gulf of Mexico. As a consequence ' , of the European wars from 173G to 17G3, j and the defeat of France, that part of New i France now known as Canada was ceded to Great Rritain, and all west of the Mis. sissippi was ceded to Spain. In 1800, during the Napoleonic wars, and as a result of the French victories everywhere on the continent of Europe, all of the territory that j had been ceded to Spain was receded to I France. In 1803, during the administra,! tion of Jefferson, the "Louisiana purchase," | as it was called, was effected, and the Uniti ed States became the owner of the territoj ry. At the time when the purchase of the territory was effected it included Louisiana, , Arkansas, Iowa, Kansas, Minnesota, Misi souri, Nebraska, the Indian Territory, Colo! rado, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana and Dako j fa, with the shadowy claims to what is now , Oregon and Washington. The claim of the . United States to the territory west of the . Rocky Mountains was subsequently rati, I tied by treaties with Great Britain, which I had previously claimed the entire western , I slope and coast to the north line of Mexico, now the north line of California. Congress ' divided the territory into Orleansand Lou! | isiana in 1804. In 1811 Orleans was admitted . into the Union as theStateof Louisiana, and the name of Louisiana Territory was changed to Missouri Territory. In 1821 the State | of Missouri was admitted to the Union, and Arkansas followed. After that time , the almost boundless tract remaining was loosely styled the Northwest Territory. In , 1834 all east of the Missouri River was organized into the Territory of Michigan. In 1830 the present State of Michigan came into the Union, leaving the balance of the country as Wisconsin Territory, or j "Ouiskonsan,"as it was then called. In 1840 and 184S Iowa and Wisconsin were made , into States, and then the balance of the outi lying acres was called Minnesota Territory. In 1808 Minnesota, with its present limits, came into the Union, and the balance of the tract was in law nameless, but was called Minnesota Territory, to distinguish it from the State of the same name. In 1861 the Territory of Dakota with its present boundaries was established by act of Congress. Such is the long process by which, through the occupation of the country for settlement, by pushing the frontiers farther away into the mountains and the wilderness, and by the progress of civilization, American States are made. It is a system of evolution and growth possessing great interest for the student of politics and history. MlirTHRRX "TRAITS. The South is not only noticeably gentle and courteous, but responds instantly to gentleness and courtesy, however promptly and passionately resentful of rudeness, and even childishly sensitive. It is a childlike race in some respects, compared with the business-trained maturity of the North, but with the charm as well as the unreason of childhood. Its women?I hardly know how to say it without offense, and heaven forbid I should in one jot offend my dead New England, our royally rowdy west, or any remotest section of the Great Republic; nor can I perhaps say it with consistency, and there is no need of saying it all; yet I will hazard the suggestion that Southern women are prettier than Northern women ! It is not that the withered wisp of the "tide-water settlement" is more beautiful than the perfect final flower of Northern culture, or the saxifrage of the New England frontier farm a hardy plant, that has as little time, as its Southern counterpart has turn, fortheajsthetic of the garden of God. But the ordinary Southern woman on Columbia Heights, on the South Battery, in Forsythe Park is pleasant to the eye. Neither men, nor women have the color and contour, the rich costume, the aggressive prosperity of the never-ending prbcession going down to the Everglades in search of health?portly men, full bearded and ruddy, close-buttoned to the chin; buxom dames, everyone with a sealskin sacque on her shoulders and a superogatory camel's-hair shawl over her arm?weighted with money, beaming with satisfaction, eating and drinking the best of everything and plenty of it. Southern women are fragile in figure, delicate of complexion, with soft, bright, abundant hair, soft, melodious voices in which a certain flatness of enunciation becomes far from disagreeable. Their dress is of modest cost a ana paipaoiy nome-inaue. w urm mm xvcufem?a plague o' both their houses! leather no nests from these quiet birds. The sombre blacks and heavy fabrics which long winters drag even into our short summers, count ill beside these cheerful taffetas and fresh cambrics whose lightness suit well the graceful forms. And their wearers meet kindly the stranger that is within their gates. Brusquely accosted, roughly touched where their hearts are sore, and no doubt these kind eyes would flash with angry fire? the pale ashes of secession still cherish a vital spark?but why approach them brusquely? They endure a suffering all their own. They have felt the hand of the North ; let them feel now only its ministrations. As a pathetic and tender prophecy, I cherish an Easter gift of Easter lilies on Easter morn, and the most precious tribute of the rose-tree?from the avowed secession South, to the avowed anti-slavery North?and feel that in deed and in truth Christ the Lord is risen.?Gail Hamilton in the Forum. Making a Field-Fife Talk.?"There were a great many war melodies," said a musical man, "that never went even as far as words. We had in our old brigade, I remember, a man who made the fife as much a wonder as Ole Bull made the violin. This was ('apt. Lou lIouk,and he was kept with the regiment through the influence of the com missioned officers, who made it to his interest to remain. It was his custom to play every night just before tattoo, and very frequently he indulged in impromptu compositions that electrified the camp. Hundreds of nights the boys went to sleep to ' '1 . * t ? TT ? 1-*.. cir.. AK U16 SOIL HITS UI JjUU iiuuk .1 Hit*, wmui (iu* solutely talked to them of the sweet memories oi home. "lfe could make a fife talk. I remember on one occasion a deserter was to be shot. The whole brigade was formed on three sides of a great square. As the condemned man, accompaned by the chaplain and the guard and the men carrying his coffin, marched along the lines each regimental band took up the strains of the funeral inarch. As the Iitfle group reached the head of our regiment instead of the band taking up the strain Lou Houk's fife took I it up. Whether he was in sympathy with j the man to be shot or not, his fife wailed out j such a pitiful cry of grief, such expressions j of heart-break that the heads of more than half the men in the regiment went down with a sob. "There was something in the music so like a woman's cry, so full of a more than man's teuderness that the man who was in a few minutes to be shot raised his head ' and stepped more proudly, as though some j one had spoken to him words ot sympathy | and encouragement. He went along the line beyond with a step in which there was more of a soldier's pride than he had ever exhibited before, and when other bands took up the plaintive music it was observed that he listened closely for the sound of the fife still wailing, wailing in speaking tenderness. That was twenty-four years ago, but I can hear the sound of that fife ringing in my ears yet."?Inter Ocean "Curbstone Crayons." Funny Cause of a Panic.?In some stories of John P. Gough, the temperance lecturer, printed by the Philadeiphia Tones, occurs the following: "One of the most terrible scenes I ever witnessed throughout my forty years' career as a public speaker, and yet one with a very ludicrous side to it, occurred in Dr. Herron's church, the first Presbyterian, Pittsburg, in 1851. I was speaking to a densely crowded nouse, wnen all of a sudden there was a terrible crash in thegallery. A frightful panic ensued. The people thought the gallery was falling, and made a stampede to escape from the building. Some threw themselves from the gallery to the floor below. Others jumped from the windows. In the midst of the confusion the stove was upset. Fortunately the tire in it was very low, and no confla! gration followed, but the occurrence terril tied the already frantic people. Above the | din I could hear the stentorian tones of three or lour powerful men in the front of the gallery, who seemed to be trying to quell the panic by shouting at the top of their voice, while they gesticulated wildly with their hands and arms. 'The fiddle! it was the fiddle, the fiddle,' but what on earth the fiddle could have to do with it was more than I could make out. At length some good brother near the pulpit struck up 'From Greenland's Icy Mountains.' Others joined in the familiar hymn and ! order and quiet wero at length restored, j The meeting did not last long, though, after that. When the audience had dispersed the Hoor was strewn with false hair, hairpins, hats, bonnets, overshoes, gloves, skirts, canes, capes and wraps of all kinds, overcoats and every conceivable article of wearing apparel. A large cart load of these things were taken to the mayor's office the next morning to await the claims of their owners. After the trouble was all over I learned that the crash which created the panic was caused by some man's stepping upon the big bass fiddle, which was at that time used in the choir, and which, when not in requisition, was allowed to repose on the gallery floor. This was what the men in the gallery whom I heard shouting about the fiddle were trying to explain to the fright-crazed people below." A SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. Glancing through a Philadelphia paper a few days ago my attention was arrested by a brief paragraph, dated at an interior town in that State, which read as follows: "Isaac Taylor, a former citizen of this place, committed suicide last night by hanging. Mr. Taylor had been employed until recently as a clerk in the treasury department at Washington, I). C." Taylor was one of the characters of Washington. Thirty years of his life (he was sixty at the time of his death) were spent in travel and adventure. He had visited every habitable country on the globe. He spoke half a dozen languages fluently and was one of the most delightful conversationalists I have ever known. He made the overland trip to California in his early youth. In San Francisco he joined a party j of Americans bound for the Sandwich Islands. While en route Taylor discovered that the object of the expedition was the overthrow of the exisiting monarchy in those lands and the formation of a new government. There was a rebellious spirit afloat in the kingdom, and the adventurous foreigners calculated to take advantage of it for their own ends. Taylor said nothing, but upon their arrival in Honolulu he sought an audience with the king and unfolded to him the details of the plot. The conspirators were banished from the island. Taylor remained and was speedily installed as the king's favorite. To crown all, the king's sister, a beautiful Hawaiian princess, fell in love with the dashing American, and, at the king's suggestion, offered him her hand ana lortune. rayior received me most positive assurance that his marriage to the princess would makehim heirto the crown. He declined that honor, however, with thanks. In talking with his Washington friends Taylor used to say that, although he regretted the refusal, he felt positive, that had he espoused the dusky princess, the king's p'.edge would have been faithfully kept. Years afterward Taylor returned to the United States, and served as a soldier in a Pennsylvania regiment. In the course of time he drifted to Washington, where he secured a minor clerkship in the treasury department. About six monthsago he was dismissed from government service on account of his irregular habits. Broken in health and in fortune, he at last returned to the obscure Pennsylvania village which he quitted a light hearted, adventurous boy forty years ago. Within a fortnight after his arrival he ended his life in the manner above described.?Chicago News. A Word to Husbands.?So much is said about obligations laid upon the wife to be sunshine at home that a word to husbands may not be amiss. It is very difficult for a wife to maintain a calm and charmingly sweet demeanor when her husband is critical or sullen, and takes her tender efforts with indifferent appreciation. If the man is breezy, cheery, considerate and sympathetic, his wnesings in ner neariover puddings and mending-basket, and counts the hours till he returns at night, and renews her youth in the security she feels of his admiration. You may think it weak or childish if you please, but it is the admired wife?the wife who hears words of praise and who receives smiles of commendation?who is capable, discreet, and executive. One may see a timid, meek, self-distrustful little body fairly bloom into strong, self-reliant womanhood under the tonic and the cordial companionship of a hnsband who really went out of his way to find occasion for showing her how fully he trusted her judgment and how tenderly he deferred to heropinion. In the home there should be no jar, no striving for place, no insisting prerogative, no division of interest; the husband and wife are each the complement of the other. And it is as much his duty to be cheerful and kind as it is hers to be patient; his right to bring joy into the door as is hers to sweep and garnish the pleasant interior. A family where the daily walks of the father make life a festival is filled with heavenly beuedictions.?New York Christian Advocate. Safety of Registered Mail.?"Some people imagine," said a post office official, "that if they registera letter it is the same as putting money in the bank?it's safe. Then there are those who believe that registering is no guaranty. They quote the backwoods maxim that 'the government will trace up a lost registered package and tell you where it is lost and you can get it yourself?if you can.' This is a mistake. The understanding now is that the man who can be proved to have handled the package last before it was lost must make it good. If he doesn't he may hand in his resignation and let his bondsmen get out of it the best way they can. Only last week a package was lost here. There were but two men in the department when it arrived and the agent got his receipt from them. The people who sent the package made affidavit that it contained $500, and the two men made it good rather than lose their places and be disgraced. I guess you'll find the registered mail pretty safe." The North Boundary of the United States.?There is little danger that any one wishing to settle in far Northern Dakota will, by mistake, find himself in the Dominion. The boundary is marked plainly and continuously by stone cairns seven and one-half by eight feet; mounds, seven by fourteen feet; iron pillars, seven feet high, eight inches square at the bottom and four at the top, and timber posts five feet high and eight inches square. There are 385 of i these marks between the Lakeof the Woods and the base of the Rocky Mountains. K'nuf. unrl west of the Red River, the bound ary is marked by cast-iron pillars at mile intervals. "American" and "British" pillars alternate. On one side of each post is "Convention of London;" on the other 1 "October 20,1818." Where lakes are crossed, stone heaps have been built projecting several feet above water. In forests the line was first marked by felling the timber a rod wide and clearing away the underbrush ; where this line has since been obliterated, 1 posts have taken its place. ' .NKVAIIA S UKKAl >AIj1 tiTAl. In Lincoln county, on the Rio Virgin, is one of the most remarkable deposits of rock salt on the continent. It is found in hills 500 feet above the level of the valley, and chemically pure. Blocks of it over a foot square are so transparent that one may read a paper through them. This deposit of salt lies about three quarters of a mile west of the Rio Virgin and three miles south of the Mormon village of St. Thomas. There a body of this salt is exposed for a length of nearly two miles, which is about half a mile wide and of unknown depth. The deposit runs north and south, ooon nn tho aiirfapp fnr a distance of (V1IU AO QVVU vu VIIV ivmxmvv .v. over nine miles. In places the canyons have cut through it to a depth of sixty feet. At these points the Hiko company formerly blasted out the salt required in working their ores. This great deposit of salt is situated at an altitude of 1,100 feet above the level of the sea. It is undoubtedly very ancient, as in one place it has been covered by a flow of basaltic rock. In other places it is covered to a depth of five feet with volcanic trifa. At Sand Springs, . in Churchill county, besides the salt that may be shoveled up from the surface, there is found a deposit of rock salt fourteen feet in depth. This salt is as transparent as the clearest ice, and does not contain a particle of any foreign or deletreious substance. It may be quarried the same as if it were marble. It is said that one man can quarry and wheel out five tons a day of this salt. It is only necessary to grind it to render it fit for dairy or table use. Sixty or seventy miles north of this, at the eastern base of the Dun Glen range of mountains, is the great Humboldt salt field. This is about fifteen miles long and six wide. In the summer when the surface water has evaporated, salt to the depth of three or four inches can be scraped up from the surface. Beneath the surface is a stratum of pure rock salt of unknown depth. This rock salt is so hard that in order to get it out rapidly it is necessary to blast it. Were a branch railroad ? .. 14. to run to one 01 inese uepusiuj, stub nuum soon be a cheap article in the United States. As there are in the same localities great quantities of soda, borax and other valuable minerals, it is probable that the day is not far distant when some of them will be tapped by branch railroads which could be cheaply iaid down through the level districts. Dead Cities of Ceylon.?The extent and beauty of the agricultural remains of the great ruined cities in the interior of Ceylon are known to but few. There are many of them, and they are full of archteologic and artistic interest. The city of Anuradhapura, to instance only one of them, is in its way as wonderful as Pompeii or those great forest grown cities of Central America. It is situated in a most lovely spot among the green valleys and wooded hills of the interior of the island, and which ever way the eye is cast there are ruins, wonderfully beautiful ruins, of shrines, dagobas, pavillions, wihares and groups of tall monolithic pillows carved from base to capital with a wondrous tfealth of Orientai imagery. For miles the forest is strewn with these majestic monuments of long since perished glory. So vast are some of these great brick-work buildings that it is reckoned that the material of one dagoba, of the several at Anuradhapura, would be sufficient to build a wall more than ninety miles long, twelve feet high and two feet thick. The enormous artificial tanks, too, of this city, might also be included among " ** xr - ?1 A OM tmef oro fho the wonders 01 me wunu aw vaov great bunds (dams) that confine the waters, and so marvelous their construction. They lie now embossed in the thick forest growth, and their shining waters are solitary but for the flocks of waterfowl upon them, and the crocodiles which float lazily on the surface, basking in the full glare of the vertical sun. The once busy banks are now deserted except by the bands of chattering monkeys which haunt it by day, and by herds of elephants? Corn/till Magazine. ? ? The Philosophy of Vaccination.? Professor Tyndallexplainsthe philosophyof vaccination as follows: When a tree or a bundle of wheat or barley straw is burned, a certain amountof mineral matter remains in the ashes?extremely small in comparison with the bulk of the tree or straw, but absolutely essential to its growth. In a soil lacking, or exhausted of, the necessary constituents, the tree cannot live, the crop cannot grow. Now, contagia are living things, which demand certain elements of life, just as inexorably as trees or wheat or barley ; and it is not difficult to see that a crop of a given parasite may so far use up a constituent existing in small quantities in the body, but essential in the growth of a parasite, as to render the body unfit for the production of ft second crop. The soil is exhausted ; and until the lost constituents restored, the body is protected from any further attack from the same disorder. Such an explanation of non-recurrent diseases naturally presents itself to a thorough believer in the germ theory: and such was the solution which, in reply to a question, I ventured to offer nearly fifteen yearsagotoan eminent physician. To exhaust a soil, however, a parasite less vigorous and destructivethan the really virulent one may suffice; and if, after having, Lv- means nf a feebler organism, exhausted the soil without fatal result, the most highly virulent parasite be introduced into the system, it will prove powerless. This, in the language of the germ theory, is the whole secret ol vaccination. Have a Home.?There are a multitude every year who are commencing home life. With hands and hearts linked together, they enter upon their new stage of existence. To such the voice of experience says, ? have a home. Do not hang about hotels and boarding-houses ; keep house if there is only one room in it, provided there is wit enough in the tirm to do it. It is a wretched policy to livea nomadic, boarding-house life, in trunks and band-boxes, in the midst of idleness and flirtation, and finally, after years of wretchedness, have a divorce suit, pack two trunks, and then go different ways to the end of the earth. Let there be a home, where household " 5 ? treasures can be gatnereu, nuuseuuiu pie??ures enjoyed, the comforts and conveniences of life preserved, and where God can give prosperity, and fruitfulness, and peace and gladness. Let the home be not a godless home ; let it be a place of prayer or worship, of praise. Let there be church in the house, and the Lord who loves "the tents of Jacob" will deign to bless the abodes of His people, and cro#wnthem with Ilisgrace, Ilis mercy, and His" peace. From such homes go forth men strong to fight the battle of life, women wise and gentle for all gracious ministries, and children that are like corner-stones, polished after the similitude of a palace.? The Christian.