Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, July 31, 1889, Image 1
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VOL. 35. YOEKVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 31, 1889. NO. 31. I
3 Jtrial ^tovji.
Mystery of Deadman's Flat
CHAPTER VII.
Perhaps that silent walk in search <
Miss Snaresbrook had formed a subt
bond of sympathy between the tw
young men; at any rate from that nigl
John Smith did not try to avoid Jac
Newenham. Another incident dre
them even closer together?at least
considerably affected the young Englisl
man, who was beginning to feel som
tning Stronger iuuu mere uia-resicu ei
rioaity in tliis new acquaintance of his.
Jack felt certain that, though Joh
Smith mingled freely among them, lr
ing their life as completely as though 1
had been accustomed to it all his day
he was yet as really out of place amon
the inhabitants of Deadman's Flat an
its outlying miners' camps as Mil
Snaresbrook herself. He was indee
deeply interested in them both, becaus
he was considerably puzzled. Any pr<
judice he had formed against the gi:
before knowing her had long since var
ished, an. ho now thought as highly c
her as did any man or woman in Dear
man's Flat. He could not understan
the state of affairs between herself an
John Smith. He had first felt certai
that it was a decided case between then
but after a few days looking on at whs
he expected to be a comedy of love mal
ing, he was obliged to come to the cor
elusion that there was really nothing b(
tween them after alL Indeed, ther
were moments when they almost seeme
to dislike each other. They scarcel
ever sought or stayed long in eae
other's society?they rather appeared t
avoid meeting, and the constraint upo:
them when they did meet and talk t<
gether was more compatible with dislik
or even fear than the shyness of a lov
not brave enough to declare itself; an<
yet, in spite of all, there was no douh
that John Smith had in some way con
stituted himself her protector, and tha
she silently submitted to and even leaner
upon his guardianship.
All the new interests and excitement
in his life still left Jack Newenhan
plenty of time for his own affairs; am
there were moments when he coul
hardly force himself to stay another da;
away from that lonely little girl in Ne\
York, chained to the bedside of an exact
ing, unsympathizing invalid. He had
reason for staying on which, 6pringin,
out of his love for her, was stron,
enough to help him conquer his own de
sires. He had written to tell her c
Mr. Thomas Cairnes' death, though h
had not informed her of the manner i
which he met it He only said tha
Tom Cairnes was dead, and that she nee
fear no more for her brother. Tha
brother himself was the reason of hi
staying on at the "Red Unicorn." j
suspicion was forming iu his own min<
which he wished to verify. Subtle as hi
questions were, watchful as he was o
every word and look. Jack Newenhan
could gain no information from Join
Smith concerning his past life. Hi
natural delicacy made it impossible t
try to force a confidence: he could onl
wait
In the meantime the would be aveng
ers of the late Mr. Thomas Cairnes wer
not idle. The letter that had been foum
on the day of Jack Newenham's arrival
in a crevice of the wall of the cabi
honored by the presence of Mr. Cairne
when at home, was now considered
certain clew to the discovery of the mui
derer. The letter was dated from Ver
neville, and one of the committeemen ha
himself gono there to make inquiries, bu
ho had not yet returned nor 6ent an;
message. The Hon. Jack Newenhan
heard a good deal about the affair. Parti;
from a hint given by Mr. John Smit
and partly from his own feelings on th
matter, he had given up all thought c
rUbUIlLHJ^ LlIC ^UIXLIXiiWVWLLl\JAl O lUHVO^J
table welcome, and he had also, as Job
Smith had prophesied, considerably mot
ified his opinions on the rough minin
population. He had on several occ;isior
caught glimpses of things beneath th
surface which had made him consldei
ably ashamed of his previously draw
conclusions.
Acting upon all these consideration!
ho had made advances to the Irishma
who had been the chief sufferer in tin
slight difference of opinion, and who ha
come out of the fray in a much wort
condition than the object of his wratl
Tho advance had been received wit
such complete absence of resentment c
even recollection of that "trifling affai
of honor, sorrl" that Newenham wa
slightly surprised, and could not hel
laughing. That laughter, in which th
Irishman heartily joined, dispelled a
lingering distrust from his heart, an
they were now all on the most friendl
terms. So very perfect was the undei
standing that Jack Newenham was ir
vited to join the committee sitting wit
closed doors, and to inspect the importer
letter itself. Mr. John Smith was als
included in tho invitation, he havin
gained tho public confidence by the d<
cided genius ho had shown on one or tw
critical occasions and the business lik
way in which he had helped to carry 01
some sentences passed in defence of lai
and order.
The letter, with much solemnity, ws
laid upon tho rudo table in the room ?
apart for this affair of justice until th
timo when it should culminate inanoos
hanging from the branch of a certai
tree. There was n cool determination,
quiet sternness in the dark, sunburn
faces gathered round the table that gav
moral effect to the scene. Newenliar
took up tho letter and read it calml;
through, though how he did it he coul
not say. Perhaps tho consciousness o
all those watchful, resolute eyes fixe
upon his face steadied him, although h
might well have shown some signs o
discomposure, knowing the issues a
stake. The letter was from Redfer;
Churchill, signed with his full name. 1
was written under the pressure of fierc
rago and despair, l^v a man who was evi
dently maddened by treachery and ruin
Tho writer swore he would have his rt
venge, even if he had to hunt Mi
Thomas Cairnes down to the death. I
was dated about a week before the mui
der.
"Guess we're on the trail, stranger,
6aid ono of tho men, as Newenliam a
last laid tho letter upon tho table.
"Yes," ho replied, his voico soundin
far off in his own ears.
lie drew back from tho circle of ster
faced, resolute men, who would be thy
brother's judges, and stood with his ow
faco in the shadow. John Smith, can
lessly advancing, took his place. H
lifted no tho letter and read it ouietl
through.
"I reckon this gentleman is euchred,
said tlio man who had spoken to Newer
ham. It was ho who had found the lei
ter, and ho was feeling very triumphant
# "You bet," said John Smith lacon
cally, laying the letter down upon th
table.
"Let's get out of this," whispered New
enham to him under cover of tho buz
of general conversation which then Ix
gam
? John Smith nodded, and they left th
e room together, making their way out c
tho house into tho square. mhey stoo
for a moment looking across tho ope:
spaco towards the street, which was corr
paratively quiet to-night.
At the farther end a flaro of flamin;
oil lamps from tho open doors of th
gambling saloon lighted up tho summe
' ovening dusk. Newenham, restless wit
a foverish excitement, harassed by doubt
and fears, felt that anything would b
welcome to take his thoughts away fror
tho sceno ho had just witnessed. H
suggested turning in tliero to seo wha
sort of a placo tho saloon was, as ho ha
not yet paid it a visit.
John Smith acceded by simply turnip
In its direction.
Some ten minutes' walking brought
them to the hospitable doors of Macnab's
; saloon. As John Smith unconcernedly
i made his way through the bar room, nodj
ding carelessly nere and there to those
h j of his acquaintances who, lounging
about, helped to make up the crowd of
smokers and drinkers, he followed too,
with a regretful thought of the fresh
sweet air he had left outside,
lo They went on to a farther room, where
o tables were set about, each one containing
its complement of silent, earnest
:k i gamblers, some of whom would sit playw
j ing there till daylight, their silence broit
j ken only by words marking the course
!i. j of the game or occasional imprecations
e_ as the luck changed. The two young
j. men strolled up to the tables: John
Smith, being greeted here and there with
n a silent nod by some more of his acr.
quaintances at the tables, took up his
10 place ue. r one of them. A little later
g Newenham, happening to look up from
' a game in the progress of which he him?
self had become interested, caught sight
jg of his friend, and was startled at the
1(j change which had taken place in him.
;e John Smith, leaning against the opposite
wall, was watching the play of four of
his friends at the table close to him. His
j. pipe had gone out, forgotten, though
clenched between his set teeth. His face
I. was pale and rigid with the intense exj
citement of the uuholy lust of play, and
(j his eyes were gleaming with a fierce
n
One of his friends at the table, glancing
up at him as they proceeded to deal
.. out a fresh hand, 6aw the gambling fever
stamped upon his face and said:
"Take a hand yourself, boss! You
e look like playing 6takes with old Scratch
(j hisselfl"
n "lou look like playing stakes tvith old
Scratch hisselfT
(j This remark attracted the attention of
? the other players at the table. They
3 looked up too, and with a laugh or an
\ imprecation, according to their various
3 modes of speech, repeated their fellow
a gambler's invitation.
,f A sudden shudder shook John Smith
Q from head to foot, breaking that rigid
Q terrible look of eager excitement, and
s he took the forgotten pipe from his lips.
0 "No!" ho answered curtly.
y In a way he was popular, but the men
among whom his lines were cast felt
that ho lacked two things iO make him
e a good comrade?he neither gambled
j nor drank. It might have been the
[( spirit of human weakness which does
n not like to feel itself in the presence of
s superior strength, or it might have been
a more directly prompted simply by the
desire to win money from a novice, but
"*- ??? ^Knir ciirl/lnnlx7 offonl-nH Tnlin
ail till J iabV fcilVJ ouuuviHj wvvwv?? v? vvmm
3 Smith, trying to force him by entreaties,
t taunts, or jeering chaff to join them.
y For a moment or two, baited by them
q all, John Smith kept silence, his breath
y coming hard between his set teeth,
h Then his eyes, glittering with a strange
Q brightness, were turned furiously upon
his tempters.
[_ "I will not play!" he said, drawing
n himself up to his full height. "For I've
j. sworn to myself never to touch another
g card as long as I live, and I'll keep my
lg oath. But, it isn't to savo my pile, as
ie you say. Take it all, and much good
r_ may it do youi It will only carry you a
n little faster to the misery those cards
have brought me to!"
5 As his voice rang through tho room he
q dashed down a handful of gold and silL{.
ver on tho table, scattering tho cards,
while the coins went spinning in every
ie direction. Tho outbreak was so sudden
K and unexpected?ho had gamed the nickjj
name of Sleepy Smith?that the men
)r for a moment were silenced. Iu the
r sudden lull John Smith turned his back
^ upon tho table and passed rapidly down
p the room and disappeared through the
e doorway.
11 Newenham followed as swiftly as he
d could. Ho had been looking on at the
y sceno of temptation with an interest so
r_ painful in its intentness that it could be
j. measured only by the relief he felt at
1j John Smith's victory. He overtook him
outsido in the starlight, but they walked
0 on for some minutes in silence, John
g Smith apparently quite unconscious that
ho had a companion. Newenham was
0 at length forced to break tho silence by
0 that new feeling of respect for his friend
which had suddenly grown up in his
,v heart.
"Why did you do that?" he asked.
? "I don't know," replied John Smith,
thinking Newenham alluded to what
ie had just taken place at the card table.
10 He spoke now without auy of the affecn
tation of roughness, and it was the rea
fined, rather than languid voico of a man
accustomed to good society. "I was
q mad, I think, for the moment?men are
u apt to make fools of themselves when
Y they are mad."
j "I did not mean that?I meant, Why
,f did you let rao take you there? If I had
d known"
e "It's the first time I've been in such a
,f place since? But it did not matter"
t ?rather wearily. "I wanted to see
n whether I could stand it; and"?with an
t echo of that terrible passion?"I failed!"
e "Nonsense, my dear fellow! I don't
[. know what has brought you here, but,
t after to-night, I would back you through
thick and thin!"
John Smith stopped abruptly in the
1 road, and turned to Newenham, his face
lookintr verv white in the starlieht.
You don't know," he said steadily.
" "If you did, you would not say that. 1
,t am a thief. One night I was at such a
placo as that, and a man was there who
g had a bundle of bank notes. I found
them and took them."
n Newenham drew back a step in the
it road. It was a ten'ible confession for
n an honorable man to hear, and, if tills
j. man who made it were the man ho suse
pected him to be, it was tenfold moredey
grading and repulsive. Probably that
shrinking was unconscious, for Newon"
ham was too generous to trample on a
i- man who had fallen; but, unconsc'.ous or
t- not, John Smith noticed it, and felt the
t. degradation keenly. He too moved fur[.
ther away.
e "Don't think I shall expect you to
notice me," ho said awkwardly, but with
a touch of patient humility which gave
z the words a deep pathos. "It was be?
cause of that?that I tried to keep you
off at first." Then he turned ui>on his
Q heel and walked swiftly back towards
,f the camp.
d The next morning Mr. John Smith
n made an earnest attempt to induce Mr.
Snaresbrook to leave the place. He
walked iuto Deadmau's Flat soon after
g Uil) UffUJi, iiu\ui? UIU^ML mill
o that that early hour was, in a general j
r way, the only oue that saw Mr. Snares- j
h brook's intellect at all equal to grasping j
s any situation with a necessary amount !
o of clearness. The attempt, however, was j
a a still moro disastrous failure. Mr. Snarese
brook had received his arguments, en,t
treaties and reproaches with a dogged
d sullen silence, only relieved by an occasional
angry gleam in his eyes, as if he
g resented the young man's interference in
his alfairs, but the daughter received his
entreaties in a manner that sent him from
her dumb with dismay.
lie did not see her till noonday, for
she had been keeping out of his way.
He met her at last on the outskirts of
the town, just as she was returning from
a long walk, thinking by this timo that
he would have gone hack to his claim at
Red Maetarvish. She had gathered a
spray of azaiea somewhere in her wanderings,
and as she came down the road
holding it in one hand she was absently
pulling to pieces the delicate pink blossoms
with the other.
At his unexpected appearance the warm
blood rushed to her pale face, and she
stood looking at him over that rosy cloud j
r\f J?l/-?ccrnnc lior lipofltli nnmincr fnsf hor '
bosom rising'and falling with tho rapid |
beating of her heart.
Her evident mental distress put an end :
to his self control, and he blurted out the j
reason of his seeking her, without any j
regard for eloquenco or dignity of
spceclx. Ho was only conscious of a 1
wild, passionate desiro to get her out of j
that place.
She looked at him first compassion- I
ately; but, as ho went on with his j
earnest, if rather incoherent advice, her i
compassion slowly gave place to astonishment.
Then suddenly that silent as- |
tonishment was turned to such a passion j
of anger, contempt and loathing?such a I
scathing, pitiless storm of words, that ho j
stood aghast.
"Go away!" sho exclaimed, stretching
out her slender quivering hand towards i
tho red, dusty road. "Never speak to !
me again 1 Whatever I thought you?I j
did not imagine you were a base, contemptiblo
coward! Go away, and never
let mo see your faco again!"
Ho turned away without another word,
and walked obediently down tho road
pointed out for him by that trembling
liand. He had no idea where it led to? j
except that it was out of her sight. As
he turned away, ho saw her sink down, |
all her strength exhausted in that out- j
burst of passion, the l>eautiful little brown j
head bowed over the pink blossoms. IIo j
caught faintly the sound of a choked j
sob, but he did not turn back to help her. j
She had told him to go, and he was going.
CHAPTER VIII.
That evening, as John Smith sat smoking
on tho trunk of a tree before tho door
of his cabin, Jack Newenham arrived in
the camp of Red Mactarvish. Ho made
straight for the isolated cabin of John
Smith, guided thereto by some of the
miners, most of whom were knocking
off work. This proud man of stainless
honor felt ashamed of himself. The first
glimpse ho caught of that lonely motionless
figure reminded him forcibly that
1 1-1 a.- T??.l xr i. _!. j. X.
He nau come 10 nuu juacuu visa not. 10
see the camp, but to beg the pardon of
the man ho had so wronged the night
before.
John Smith sat there, smoking hard,
and staring at a landscape ho did not
even see, so blinded were his eyes by
that vision of a beautiful, scornful face,
looking at him over thoso pink azaleas.
He did not hear Jack Newenham's approach
till the latter touched him on the
shoulder. Then ho turned with a start,
flushing a dull, deep red, and rising silently
to his feet as ho saw who his visitor
was.
"I've been a brute!" said Ncwenham,
going to the point at once, like the sturdy
downright Englishman he was. "I'd
like to shake hands with you, if you've
no objection."
The dull flush faded slowly from John
Smith's face, as he stood looking away
towards the distant sierras that stood
out clearly against the red evening sky.
"Not even the touch of your clean
hand can make tuo an honest man
again," he said.
"No," 6aid Ncwenham simply; "but
the present and future can; and tho past
is gone by"?and ho held out his hand.
John Smith took it The action looked
only like an ordinary greeting, but that
silent hand clasp between tho two men
was the seal of a friendship which never
faltered so long as life lasted.
Jack Newenham stayed some time
with Smith, tho latter doing the honors
of tho camp. He was invited by several
men to spend the night there, but he had
his own reasons for getting back to Deadman's
Flat. The affair of the murder
was growing very serious; indeed it grew
more serious every moment he spent in
John Smith's company, for, if this John
Smith wqre the man ho imagined hira to
be, then that letter was u terrible weapon
in the hands of those judges in Deadman's
Flat Not that he for one moment
believed in the young man's guilt, for, if
Redfern Churchill and John Smith were
one and the same man, he was certain
that lie could not havo done so base and
cowardly a thing as to shoot down in
cold blood his most deadly enemy.
Others, however, might not see matters
in the same light; and thero was always
that ugly piece of evidence in the shape
of a letter against him.
They had been walking for some time
in silence, John Smith accompanying
him a little way on tho road back to
Deadman's Fiat, when suddenly Newenham
stopped, unable to keep silence any
longer under the pressure of his anxieties
and fears. Ho glanced about him
and saw that the road was lonely and
silent.
"Are you Redfern Churchill'/" ho
asked, lowering his voice.
"Yes," said tho other simply.
That quiet "Yes" was a whole confession
of faith in tho other's honor, anil
Newenham felt it to be so.
"You shall never have reason to regret
having told me this." he said. "1
will tell you something, too?I am going
to marry your sister Violet."
A deep drawn breath was the only
outward sign of pain, but this sudden recalling
of relationships and scenes so
long dead to him caused tho young man
an acuto pang. lie could not speak, and
Newenham went on hurriedly:
"She has never forgotten you?it was
for her 6ake that I came to Deadman's
Flat to get tidings of you. I did not
know you then?now, I would travel
doublo the distance for your own sake.
Tell mo if there is anything I can do for
you."
If lie hoped for soino allusion to that
fatal letter ho was disappointed. There
was a brief silence, and then Red fern
Churchill answered rather slowly:
"You havo dono more than any man
would havo done already; you can do no
more. I am dead to them, to yon and
all tho old life. If you have not yet told
her that you havo seen mo, I beg of you
not to d<> >? it would only hurt her.
Don't think inu ungrateful; I would give
my life to prove to you what I think of
tho sacrifico you have made for my sake.
Heaven bless you both!"
IIo turned abruptly away, and walked
swiftly back in the direction of tho
camp. Newenham, after a short pause,
during which lie watched the muscular
figure disappearing into tho fast gathering
shadows, turned and walked on hurriedly
too, with a sudden sense of helplessness
in his heart.
The road was getting quito durli, and
the silence was broken only by the distant
roar of the water as it foamed along
its rocky uneven bed at the foot of the
Ited Mactarvish camp and the gentle
soughing of the breeze among tho fragrant
pines.
Suddenly there was a faint rustling
sound in tho ditch which ran right across
tho road. Then a figure moving therein
cautiously raised itself up till there appeared
a palo flabby face, still heavy
with the drunken sleep which had
caused tho man to seek suddenly and involuntarily
the bottom of that ditch, on
his way homo to Dead man's Flat. The
facowas surrounded by tangled yellow
locks, to which adhered clay and twigs
and various other trilles. gathered in
that unexpected and hasty plunge into
tho ditch. After carefully reconnoitering
tho dusk on either side, ho rested his
elbows upon the edge of tho bank and
propped up his still rather unsteady head
with his hands. I'okcr Dick was cogitating,
for even to his hazy and extremely
expansive views of propriety there seemed
a slight doubt as to the fairness of taking
advantage of a private conversation to
tie a halter round another man's neck.
Ho had not even any grudge against r
Iiedfern Churchill; on the contrary, he
rather liked him.
On the other hand, however, Poker
Dick's affairs wcro in rather a desperate Tl
condition, and there was even some talk
of expelling him from the virtuous community
of Deadman's Flat. An energetic
display of virtue in tho shape of capturing
a "wanted" murderer might soften
tho hearts of his fellow townsmen. Then <>,,
there was that handsome reward which
it was decided should bo given.
?'T A-nnpc I'll clnnn nn iM'* muttnrn/1 fltn ol
perplexed man to himself at last, letting hi
himself di op once more into the moist m
clay at tho bottom of the ditch. "I'm in f],
a bit of a buzz!" ,.
In tho early morning of tho next day a
small band of men came down the road *J|
leading from Red Mactarvish. The tramp 1>(
of their feet was steady and regular, in- sa
dicating that they were on some grave ja
business. A few persons lingering about r(,
tho doors of tho "Red Unicorn" before .
beginning tho serious duties of the day
caught sight of that small band as it
turned round a bend in tho road. ro
Jack Nowenham, talking to Quaker ni
Joe about a shooting expedition that r()
would take up two or threo days, turned ,
with tho others to look at the advancing
group. Miss Snaresbrook also looked. J.j]
turning with a soft laugh from some oxtravagant
compliment just paid her by sl]
the gentleman at her side, the proprietor v|
of the grocery establishment of Dead- n]
man's Flat, who, attracted by her ap- <>t
pearanco sis she stood inside the small en
inclosure before tho hotel, had run over so
from his store at the opposite side of the tii
square to exchange "good day" with CO
her. Mr. Snaresbrook turned from his vi
ferocious contemplation of tho adoring Cd
grocer to gazo too at that rapidly ap- til
proaching band. It began to attract the 1,(
attention of others too?children ran '
down tho road to find out what was
"up," for that solemn, steady procession VI'
evidently meant something. Men, ' i- ,
guidly strolling forward, caught tuo ^
meaning of their words as they shrilly ^
called out the discovery they had made. fr(
Voices caught up tho burden here and
there along tho road, until quite a great
wave of sound reached the cars of those js
standing about tho "Red Unicorn," from n(
which they could distinguish the words, vc
"Murderer"?"Go-for-him Tom"?"Red m
Mactarvish"?"nabbed." j\i
There was a variety of expressions on ra
the eager faces of those assembled in the iri
square as the words readied them?ex- til
citement, interest, curiosity and satisfac- hr
tion. Even the grocer hastened forward, to
though in doing so he had to leave Miss
Snaresbrook behind. Quaker Joe was
already hal- way across tho square So
was Jack Newenham, a heavy sinking 1)(
feeling at his heart.
The procession, which was now a silent to
one, as if the stern resolution and gravity 'll
of those men in its center had checked
even the excited curiosity and eager '
gratification of tho townspeople who had
gathered about them, was more than J
half way across tho square before it ' ,
parted sufficiently to allow of the chief (j'r
actors in it being seen. m
There were about twenty of them? so
the committeemen appointed to sec into (..j
the matter of tho murder, a fow miners \\-;
from Red Mactarvish who had come ar
along to seo tho end, and in the midst of nt
them John Smith, or, as he was now ro
known to be, Redfern Churchill. ill
. He was very pale, but otherwise quite ro
cool. When arrested at the camp, just as
as ho was proceeding to his day's work, rn
ha had come away quietly, without saying
a word. Newenham, forcing his "J
way through tho crowd surrounding
him, reached his side.
"It's a lie," ho cried, facing tho lead- ?(1
ing man of tho arresting party?"an infamous
lie! If you do him any harm,
you shall swing for it!" j(l
"He'll have a fair trial,""answered the ^
man, with sullen civility. "Clear out, j)r
boys, and let us pass!" or
"Leave mo alone," said Redfern nr
Churchill to Newenham, in a low, hur- (m
ried tone, though his eyes expressed his
gratitude for the generous championship.
"I'm all right." w
"Besides," ho added, in a still lower in
tone, as tho young Englishman, with sil
ominously gleaming eyes and pab set til
lips, still kept by his side, "I would sc
rather you kept out of the row, for an- ar
other's sake. I'll tell you when it is all so
finished." ,
They had no further opportunity for 1,1
speaking, as at that moment they reached |()
the inclosuro where Mrs. Quaker Joe ')(
was standing just inside.
Her cheeks were crimson with excite- tu
ment; sho was furious at Churchill's ar- KI
rest, being convinced of his innocence, ' 1
though, after tho fashion of women, she
had no logical reason to givo for her con- ^
viction. ^
"If you go for i . harm a hair of that ((,
young man's head, may you all swing s0
for a set of blundering idiots!" sho cried, fli
barring the entrance to tho inclosuro st<
with her amplo figure.
The foremost committeeman made a at
dignified though hurried reply. None 111
of them wished to discuss the matter th
with Mrs. Quaker Joe; and her husband, rii
emboldened by tho majesty of tho law, pr
as represented in tho persons of the com- W
mitteemen, caught her arm and pulled fC
her aside. !'!
This sudden exhibition of marital 'n
authority had such an astounding effect ^
upon Mrs. Kezah that she actually re- L.
treated a few paces. The committeemen
took advantage of her momentary J'
discomfiture to pass, with as much dignity
as decidedly hastened movements
would permit, into tho inclosure.
Rodfern Churchill caught sight of poor fj,
Mrs. Kczah's face. Its utter consterna- fr;
tion struck his sense of tho ludicrous and
he laughed outright, nodding at her with T1
the bright winning grace which still oc- fu
casionally made its way through these- th
vere repression of his manner, and which, w
when it did, had as great an effect on \v
the lady population of Deadman's Flat pr
as it used once to have 011 tho women in ht
the drawing rooms of Now York and hi
Brooklyn.
The crowd outside prepared to await l1'
the verdict with patience. Mr. Snares- * },
brook wandered about rather aimlessly P
for a little while. He inquired for his ,V
daughter; but sho had disappeared and j
was not to bo found. After a time ho
proceeded thoughtfully to the tumble js'
down cabin at the end of the corral which j)(
Quaker Joe had kindly handed over for j
his occupation. ri,
It was there, half an hour later, that p.
his daughter found him. s(>
[TO JtK CONT1NUKI) NKXT WKKK] ill
A Shoo Dealer's Observation.
I was in a Stato street shoo store yesterday
111
when two ladies seated themselves and asked ..
to bo shown shoes, of course. A young mau jjj
waited u[K)ii 0110 of tho ladies. A moment
later ho camo to tho proprietor, with whom I j
was talking, and said: "She has whito hose." j%,
Tho proprietor mado a reply that 1 did not J.]
quite understand, and tho clerk departe<l. I (J,
retuiucd to ask why it wus that tho clerk had ]i<
mado such an observation. "It is ono of tho U<
tricks of our trade," answered tho head of t'f
tho concern. A woman who will wear white JI
hosiery don't wear ihio shoes. You can gam- 'It
bio on that every time und win. So wo V?
know about what class of goods to show
her and thus save time. I don't know
"whether you know it or not, us such matters
do not interest outsiders, but wo can tell by ^('
111
tho sort of hosiery a woman wears what
* w
price shoos sho wants. Now, tako a woman
who wears black silk hosiery or bluck bal- * j
hriggau, sho wants tho very best shoo, as a
rule, that thero is in tho houso. I havo mado
study of this for years, and 1 am away up
on tho subject, I can tell you. Another thing (j|
1 havo noticed?a woman who wears black to
hosiery generally has small feet. That ro- j^i
minds me that tbo averugo foot of tho Chicugo
lady?I mean good stock, tho aristocrats to
?is not small, but long and slender."?Chi- 111
cago Mail
ittisccllaucmts ^riutini). |]
z 1)
ROM LIVERPOOL TO LONDON.
It. Mr.CLAIN TELLS WHAT HE SAW }'
IN ENGLAND. J
lie Railways niul Railway Cars? li
Public Highways?English Farm- V
in#??Cliatwortli Castle?On to Lou- c
don?The Crystal Palace and the ()
Pyrotechnical Display?The British
Museum?The Bank of England ?
London Tower. (
rri'spoinloiicc of tin; Yorkvillu F.i.qmror.
London', England, July 10.?After p
itaining permission of the hoot- 11
ticks of Liverpool to depart, by j!
aking a solemn promise to give p
icm a job on my return, I hoarded s
ie Midland railway which runs to a
i i ... ..j' xi... i\ i.CJ
[>nuon oy way ui me iiirriiysiiire
eak iind the Vale of Mattock, and is ?
id to afford the finest scenery in c
ngland, some idea of which can he n
alized from tlie fact that 1 counted
rty-three tunnels on the trip.
I had often heard of English rail- s
ads, their wide gauge, large loco- s
otives and elegant cars. The rail- f
ads are first-class?there is no doubt 1
' that?but the gauge is not so wide
i ours, and the engines are much tl
nailer. The coaches?carriages, as p
ie,v are called here?are somewhat
nailer than in America, and are di- f,
ded into compartments?two seats ti
inning crosswise and facing each jr
her in each compartment, and each Sl
pable of accommodating five per- p
ns. The conductor collects the a
I'kets at the stations and seldom ij
imes through the cars. If his serces
are needed at any time, he is t<
lied by means of a signal cord, a
Kiugli a fine of .?5 attaches to the S|
irson using the cord unnecessarily, h
have not learned what constitutes b
sufficient reason, or who is to de- a
de in case of a supposed offence, k
ou enter the cars at theside and the tl
>ors are locked on the passengers,
ev not being able to get out except ti
the stations. The conductor passes
inn one car to another by means of a <i
atform on the outside and running p
e full length of the train. There a
no drinking water in the cars and Si
> stoves. Some of the trains make a
?ry fast time?from fifty to sixty
iles per hour; but these are specials j,
id must be paid for extra. The n
ilroads are fenced all the way with f]
r>n or hedges and are crossed along <>
e highways by means of overhead tl
idges. Pedestrians arc r.:,c allowed v
walk on or across the track, and of 0
urse no one is ever run over by a ]
coniotive. The engineer scarcely i
er blows the whistle for any pur- ']
>se. n
When we arrived at Rowsley, a p
wn about 75 miles from Liverpool, (]
lite a number of our party had come ]
the conclusion that they did not ]
ant to go to London by rail. We
ust see the country and took a car- tl
age for that purpose. Imagineour tl
rprise when seven gentlemen were c
icked into a large vehicle, to be
awn by a single horse, but the ani- il
t ^ - /*> .1. ? 1!..^!.. 4.-^4. ?^?/l I 0
<u SUini'U on ill a iivcity nwi, <uiu a ^
on discovered that there was 110 oc- s
sion for surprise. The public high- ii
ays all over thecountry are very tine t<
id seem to cost almost as much, if *
>t more, than railroads. Asphaltum c
adbeds and flagstone sidewalks are ^
ore common than macadamized
ads at home. The roads are swept s,
clean as a floor every day, and to p
:le over them is (juite a pleasure, e
tiey are all bordered on either side "
r stone walls or hedges. (1
The landscape is so very different
[>111 our American scenery that I 0
uId not fail to enjoy it. The little e
rms on the road would hardly at- ii
in the dignity of patches in York 0
unty, and I saw only two frame 11
lildingsfrom Liverpool to London. "
early all of the houses are either t|
ick or stone and covered with slate t.
1 tiles, though some of the roofs ii
e thatched, which struck me as a
lite odd, vet they are by 110 means P
fly. * \l
The farmers grow vegetables, Q
heat, oats and the grasses, and the p
lmense amount of hay to be seen is s
mply astonishing. I would say
at it is their principal crop. You ft
arcely see a house at which there ,s
e not from one to a dozen hay ricks, c
metiincs within ten feet of the a
veiling. As to improved agricult- i
ill implements, they do not seem p
he very much used. I saw a num- 1
r of improved reapers and rakes ti
id a very convenient machine for o
riling hay in the sun. Most of the
ain and grasses are cut with the or- c
nary cradle and scythe. Ii
The English system of farming is <r
rtainly very thorough, and the ti
rmers get oil' their ground all that o
is capable of producing, imwgn
ic of our party remarked that it
omod that the principal products of
e country was, "hay, hedges and
one fences."
In about fifty minutes we arrived
the famous Chatsworth castle, six
iles from Uowsley, and the home of s
io Duke of Devonshire (Lord Krede- s
Cavendish.) This is the finest a
ivato residence in England. The
est portion was built in the twelfth v
ntury, and connected with it are ()
any important events in English ti
story, not the least notable among h
hicli was the imprisonment of '|
ary Queen of Scots at this place, v
lie castle is surrounded by a vast ];
trk, enclosed by a stone wall, twelve <>
iles in length*. In this park are n
ore than a thousand deer and more t
an a hundred thousand pheasants t
id other game birds kept solely for v
e pleasure of the Duke and bis a
iends, who occasionally enjoy a real
ild bunt in his big "front yard." a
here is also a great variety of heauti- ?
1 trees, among which are to be seen f
e beech, horse chestnut, fern, p
eeping ash, hawthorn, etc. The a
alks, grasses, flowers, etc., are sur- (
issingly beautiful, and the yew
dges look like the walls of fairy- f
nd. trillions and millions of tons t
' stone have been brought to this )(
ace and made to represent nioun- t
ins, gorges, grottos and other freaks r
' nature, and the delusion is so per- t
ct that few persons would detect . *
cfraud. At the foot of one of the a
dges there is a large clear pool of u
ater, in the center of which is an ]<
land, nnd on the island stands a n
'autiful reddish looking tree. While \:
was admiring this perfectly natu- (
1 object and endeavoring to learn a
< species, I was greatly surprised to r
e suddenly shoot up a great revolv- n
g spray of water. Little jets all a
ound the tree joined in, and every f<
anch and every leaf began to add ti
<own little stream in increasing the
ost startling effect. Then I learned s
nit the tree was a copper iniita- v
nil and was connected with a great v
ater main that could lie turned off p
id on at will. A short distance c
rtlier is the highest fountain in t<
ngland, a two-inch stream reaching u
ie height of lf(>7 feet. In the green- p
nise of this wonderful estate, the
mi of tht! earth seems to have reach- 11
I its most luxurious perfection, t'
ere I saw the shaddock, or "forbid- .J
mi fruit," the palm, the banana and h
irious other kinds of tropical plants p
'aring their respective fruits. This t
ecu house is 1feet wide, 'J7<> feet j.?
n<; and !M) feet to the roof. The a
mperature is controlled by twelve si
iles of hot water pipes, and the v
hole vast space is encased in 715,mil) p
uare feet of tflass. The design of li
lis ^reeii house was followed in the o
instruction of the present Crystal d
dace at London. In the castle are a
be seen pictures, frescoes and beau- I
ful carvings by the greatest art mas- <;
rs of the world, until they actually a
ow wearisome.
At length we resumed our journey 1;
London, and passing on the road t<
microus lime kilns and stone quar- I
i's, arrived in the great city at S; /
i. m. Of course I soon became bus- I
ly engaged in sight-seeing, but I j
ardly know where to begin to tell |
bout*it. As large as the city is, one
f the first facts that I became iniressed
with, was that not more than
vvo-thirds of it is on the surface of
lie ground. Instead of street cars
ere, the whole city is undermined
fith underground railways, and you
an goto almost any part of it witbut
seeing the light of day. The
node of street travel is somewhat
umbersome and slow. For this purpose
the Fnglish use a kind of 0111ibus
capable of accommodating lii
icrsons inside, and seating about I I
ilore on top. And a top seat is genrally
preferable if the weather is
lir, as the passenger is better able
a see what is going on about him.
ome of tlioso onmibusses arc run on
track similar to street cars and arc
ailed tranmiys. There are very few
f them in London however.
The vast amount of statuary and
nrving on the buildings, and the
lassiveness of English architecture,
?ads one to the conclusion that these
eople scarcely know of any other
se for money than to pile it up in
tone. With few exceptions the
tyle of architecture is so massive
hat all beauty is destroyed. The
ateriors, however, an? generally
rand and elegantly finished.
London has plenty of people, but
here does not seem to Ik; any of that
ush and energy that characterize
Jew Yorkers. The merchants appear
> be very contented and are not paricularly
anxious about selling their
oods. They ask a fair price and
lick to it, and if you don't want to
ay it you don't have to, though they
re very friendly and treat you potely.
1 have encountered one little mys?r.v
that 1 am as yet unable to solve,
ml that is a scarcity of babies. I
appose there are plenty of them
ere. In fact I have no doubt of it,
ut they are very scarce on the streets
nd also in the parks. I reckon they
eep them in that third of London
hat is underground.
Another thing that bothers me is
hat I don't know when to sleep,
it 10 o'clock at night it is not real
ark, and at this writing?2 o'clock
a the morning?it is about as light
s in America at .'}() minutes before
unrise. It doesn't suit my sleeping
rrangements at all.
On Saturday I visited the crystal
a lace at Sydenham, seven and-a-half
liles from London bridge. It was
he occasion of a grand feie in honor
f the Shah of Persia, whom I had
he good fortune to see all in a bunch
dth the Prince of Wales, Princess
f Wales, Prince Albert Victor,
'rince (Jeorge and the Princesses
iouise, Maud, and Victoria of Wales,
'he principal feature of the afteroon's
entertainment was a grand
yrotechnical display, the following
escription of which I clip from the
iOiulon edition of the New York
rera Id:
Tho grand scene came, however, when
iio Sh:ih appeared in die Royal box in
tie centre or tno main on no inn- as w?;
heors rose from fill,000 people in tho
arkness, the bomb mortars thundered
way like a park of artillery with a deafning
and reverberating series of bangs,
'lie swish of many rockets, chasing the
pinning bombs, made the sky a map of
ery lines, which the eye scarcely wished
5 leave to note tho colored fountains
pringing high in tho air. A second later
ame a rattling series of reports, and the
rhole sky was illuminated with showers
nd clouds of colored 3tars. Red stars
urst out in the centre jf clouds of green
tars ; heliotrope stars Hashed out among
ale blue stars and dark blue stars. The
utile grounds seemed roofed with lire,
fith colored comets, nests of blazing,
arting serpents, with great drooping
prays of gold and silver and green, verlilion,
cardinal and countless asteroids
f every hue, and underneath this covring,
the backgrounds were lighted up
I a way altogether infernal. Rig flames
f red and blue and green firo burned at
II the lire stations vividly tintingclouds,
nd clouds of smoke that roso floating
ver tho tiles. A volcanic eruption in
lie gardens would have been nothing in
omparison to it,and Milton's hell,though
; somewhat surpassed the scene in aeroge,
was nowhere beside it in general
yrotechnicoflect. The frames presented
lie portraits of the Shah, the Prince and
'rinooss of Wales in tiro, a large number
f glittering irridoscent emblems, and
nally wound up with tho Lion and the
un.
Next morning I went to hear the
unous London preacher ltev. ('. II.
purgeon. I was favored with a
onifortableseat and had the pleasure
nd benefit of a line sermon from
Kings v: IK. The discourse was
Jain, exhaustive and convincing,
'he seating capaetity of Spurgeon's
ibernacle is ">,(100 and it is filled to
verflowing every Sunday.
On Monday I visited St. raid's
athedral and also Westminster Alley.
Westminster is a magnificent
otitic church of stupendous proporions,
and has been used as the place
f coronation and place of interment
f the English kings for more than a
liousand years. The relics and melorials
that have been collected here
re sufficient to interest the visitor
>r more than a month. Hy reason
f my limited time, however, I had
a content myself with noting the
tatues of the different eminent
tatesmen, the tombs of the kings,
nd the old coronation chairs.
I next went to the British museum,
t here those who love antiquity have
illy to exercise time anil patience
a enable them to take a journey
ark into the departed centuries,
'he collection of books, manuscripts,
forks of art and antiquities, is the
irgest to be found under any other
ne roof in the world. Specially
oteworthy are the Elgin marbles,
he Nineveh sculptures and the unique
vases and bronzes. I saw a
roll-preserved Egyptian mummy
,0110 years old.
From the museum I took in Regent
nd Hyde parks and the zoological
* (lmw, owi 1/onf mure
WIU IV uu II <11%
lian .'{,0(10 animals, collected from all
arts of the world. Many of these
re very rare and are in no other
olleetion.
Hampton court, thirteen miles
mm London, was reached in what
he English call a stage, which has a
in*;, hroad lied like a wagon, with
hree seats across the front and two
mining lengthwise the balance of
he way. It will carry thirty porons,
and is drawn by four horses at
pretty lively rate. The driver still
ses th<' old stage horn to let you
now he is coming; but that is hardly
iccessary as the noise of the vehicle
i sufficient to announce its approach.
)n the road we were very much
mused at a number of little boys
milling along by the stage, standing
n their heads, cutting somersaults
nil performing other acrobatic feats
>r the pennies that were from time
a time thrown out by the passencrs.
Arrived at Hampton court, I
pent several hours in enjoying the
renders of the beautiful garden,
rhicb are somewhat similar to those
reviously described. The castle
ontains a fine collection of old mas[ rpieces
of art and portraits of nuicrous
individuals famous in Lngish
history.
A part of Tuesday's work was seeng
tlie Tower of London. This strucure
is said to have been erected by
ulius C'scsar. It is situated on the
'ft bank of the Thames in the eastern
art of the city, and stands 111 the ecu- i
re of an area of thirteen acres, which
< surrounded by a massive wall and
deep moat. Inside of the tower 1
uw the old executioner's axe with
,'hieh different political prisoners
ave been beheaded, and also the old
lock which carries its grim record
f the bloody work in a number of
eep scars made by the descending
xe. Admitted to the Jewel house,
saw Queen Victoria's imperial
rown offstate, which cost one million
ndseventy thousand pounds sterling
-about live and a quarter million dolirs.
It looks very pretty, but seems
i) be rather expensive millinery,
t contains .'iu?);{ precious stones,
u'oundand underneath the imperial
crown arc three other crowns worn ha
by her majesty's immediate predeces- co
sors. There are also a gold witielbun- it
tain, salt cellars, tankards, orbs, cliris- w<
tenin^ font, and the diadem of the on
queen's late consort. In fact the I
entire imperial regalia is kept at this po
place. The whole treasure represents ro
twenty million dollars. W
To the Hank of England? yes,
of course 1 went to the Hank of England,
and saw the money changers <
shoveling gold with brass shovels.
We looked at them a while, drew a. |m
long breath and left. jn
1 visited many other places and oh- jjf
jects of interest, hut have told enough es
for this time; so good bye until my V(i
next. I am off this morning for .,t.
I'aris. T. Haxtkk McClain. tei
VISIT TO A 1>ATKY FARM. do
For tin: Yiirkvilli: Knquircr. SCI
"I
Karlyona fine morning about the j j
first of May, your correspondent ; tp
might have been seen wending his | ye
way to the east, and alter a drive of j W(
about ten miles, he halted at the I ,l*
fine country home and dairy farm of ; tf
('apt. (). A. Wylie, of Chester county. |
After being cordially invited in by
the Captain's most estimable wife, ?
the Captain himself was not 1 oil}; in
making his appearance. .
ft was soon proposed to taken look ,
about the farm, of which 1 will try
to give the readers of Til ! : Kxqri ukk '
an account, though necessarily an
imperfect one. a
The first place visited was the barn, ,
which in dimensions is about 1U by
(infect. It is fitted with two rows of J,
patent stanchions, the entire length, .
for confining the cows to their places.
The mangers are so arranged that the .
cows cannot get their feed under
foot. ()n one side are several roomy V
box stalls in which to confine cows
when necessary. Overhead is room
for a vast amount of fodder. The entire
building is kept scrupulously j"
clean. The liquids are conveyed to j'
the outside, and the solids are clean- .
etl up and moved every day, and the . '
floor is then covered with dry earth.
Twenty-five head of Jerseys are ..
kept in milk. One man milks and
feeds the entire herd. jj
The next thing that attracted my f
attention was the silo, which was
now empty. It is built on top of .
the ground, weatherhoardod outside, C
rough ceiled inside, and the space ,
packed with sawdust. The corn *
stalks are cut into half inch lengths ..
and tramped in as filled into the silo.
The gables are left open to admit of
filling in the stalks. The Captain >'
says that pea vines make Very fine *
ensilage. They are not cut. but pack- j
ca in wnoie. \\ nen inesuo is nueu,
planks are fitted over the silo and J'f
weights placed on top sufficient to ,
pack the mass and exclude the air. ;,V
The silo should he tilled at intervals
of several days to permit the mass to ...
heat and drive out the air. The material
thus treated, corn stalks, pea
vines, etc., will remain all winter in xj
its natural state, fresh and sweet.
The cows were now called up by x?
an unspellable cry by Vass the col- [7
ored milkman. The captain, or his
little son, was able to handle any in J'1
the field with ease. Several of this
fine herd are now yielding two j/;
pounds of butter each per day on or- <r
dinary pasture. The butter is shipped r.
to Charleston, where it readily sells
for forty cents per pound.
Calves are never permitted to suck, j ;
but are fed on skimmed milk.
We next visited the dairy, which .
is a model of neatness. Here the '
milk is kept in a cellar, twelve feet * '
deep, in deep tin cans. When the
cream rises, the milk is drawn off at xh
the bottom of the cans and after ..
being thus separated, the cream is .
collected and churned. I
The cellar is ventilated by anarch
of brick built on a level, from the .j*
bottom of tilt; cellar to the surface of
the ground, about 100 feet from the ..
dairy. A swing churn of 25 gal- ..
Ions'capacity is used, and the finest
butter 1 have ever seen is made. ..
Dinner was announced after our
inspection of the dairy, and 1 can '
only say that it was a good one, and
that 1 did it full justice.
After dinner the calves were seen, ?,
and truly they presented a fine appearance,
grazing in a field of rye.
After visiting some other points of
interest about the farm, J bid the
hospitable Captain and his family u|
adieu and started homeward, feeling an
" 1 : :+ o. ..?n ,.r tl.? m
wen rrpaiu ny mt\ \ inn in wnv in mi
best conducted dairy farms in the th
State. * <;. th
bj
CHRONIC BOKKOWEKS. an
If you are buying a house in a
neighborhood unknown to you, you 51
will naturally ask all kinds'of qtios- krr
tions. Vou will want to know if the
drainage is good, i ft he air is pure, if m
there has ever been any malaria, how
far it is to the depot and postottice, l'<
but ten to one you don't inouire if di
there are any borrowers in the neigh- 1,1
borhood. * {,()
Now a chronie borrower is a dead- .V(
ly nuisance in a community. A wo- J}v
man who isalways "just out" of sale- fr<
ratus will stir up more trouble in a
neighborhood than a mad dog and a ('11
Hock of fifteen hens and a rooster.
She will run in on you at any and l,r
all hours, and want to borrow just a as
littlesugar, or spice, till she can send
to the grocer's. She really did not J'j
know she was anywhere near out
till she went about her cooking, and ^
then she found she hadn't a dust of S'1
sugar in the house and not a soul w
around anywhere that she could send to
out after any s''
And she will tell you that she does to
so hate to trouble you; for if there
is anything on earth she dislikes to
do it is to borrow?and she never does Jl,i
1 til
it when she win neip n ; nui huh mi
piecrust is nil on the plates, and she w
was obliged to, because she could iU!
not spare the time to run to thegro- {'.()
cer's. And she will sit down in your til
kitchen and stop half an hour, and nt
talk about everybody in town; and, t'h
meanwhile, she will take an account ()l'
of everything her eyes fall on, and l"1
she will see behind your stove the
cobwebs that you forgot to brush 'n
down this morning; and she will notice
the old boots that your husband
left on the wood box to dry, and she
will see that your lamp chimneys Hi
have not been washed, and that your to
dishes are in the sink, and that you II
had ham for breakfast by the spatter oj
of grease on the stove; and when she lb
goes into some other neighbor's T<
house on a borrowing expedition she
will give a report of what she saw in v<
your kitchen, and swear the neighbor M
over to eternal secrecy regarding it; wi
and the consequence will be that in di
a week it w'llbeall over town that I
your folks live on ham, and that you ('si
are the most untidy housekeeper on en
the footstool. an
When the borrower returns what ad
she borrows, it is always in a little to
smaller measure, if, indeed, she returns
it all. And you may congrat- nil
ulate yourself if you get half what wi
belongs to you. re;
A regular borrower will borrow iiij
everything, from a piece of salt fish lei
for breakfast, down to your boy, if re:
you have one.
The book borrower is even a great- th
er nuisance than the woman who sp
borrows household supplies. She th
never hesitates to ask for the choicest
or costliest books in your house, to
And she seems to think that she con- op
fers a favor on you by so asking. ab
And if you arc fool enough to loud, \vi
the possibility is tluit you will liavo sa;
to go after the books in i|uostion, and
will iind on doing so that she has lent ye
thoin to a friend of hers, who want- an
od to road them, and she will toll you to
that she know you would he wil- ill'
ling?you are so good naturod. th
In the course of our life we have boon dr
asked to lend everything in the book ov
lino that over wo owned, except our do
Bible, and somehow nobody ever th
seemed to care about borrowing that,
and in ninecasesout often, when we ili
lvo complied our literature has I to
me hack to us in a shape that fitted ! tli
only for kindling?if, indeed, we at
:*re lucky enough to ever set eyes tli
i it. ' ta
So we say to all our friends, if it he (a
issihle to avoid it, never have a hor- nc
wer for a neighbor.?[New York g.
ceklv. \\'i
at
WANT OF PKINCIPLK. sv
This is the crying want of our time, w
is the threat desideratum in every or
isiness and profession, not merely th
what we call the lower walks of in
e, the degraded and criminal class- in
, hut in what are regarded as the dr
rv highest classes, and among pf
ople refined and cultured, and of- di
it, indeed, professedly religious. <>f
jwnright sincerity of speech, and
iwnright honesty of dealing, wotdd an
L'ln to he among Wendell Phillips's ni
ost arts." Prevarication, dissimtt- |>r
lion, adulteration, defalcation? no
ese have become so common that th
hi arc ready to ask, "Whom can m
:i trust ?" Sometimes it does seem
if business and society were lion- es:
combed with evil, and ready to fall re
pieces for very rottenness. The su
uson is not far to seek. We are not li
llieiently careful to inculcate high- d(
ned moral principles upon the sus- tli
ptihle children entrusted to our ra
urge.
The writer was recently on board a
ilroad train on which was a moth- tli
ly-looking woman with three unmmonly
handsome hoys, all of
em evidently in their teens. For (/u
rself and the oldest son she bad 'J1
irchascd tickets, which she present- ^t
to the conductor. For the second '>
y she was willing to pay half fare, tu
(1 the third she tried to smuggle
rough without paying any fare at *il
I. Judging from the whispered con- "51
rences before the conductor came,
(1 afterward, the mother had failed *01
come to terms with the ticket
out at the station from which she iU1
id started, hut they hoped to have
tter success with the official on the iU1
lin. It was a clear case of an attnpt
to "beat" the road out of <!<)
oney to which it was fairly cnti?d,
and in making it the mother
uivocated about the ages of her
ildren, and haggled about paying ex
r them, and altogether gave them or
lamentable lesson in lying and
aling which they will be likely to
irtfully remember to their dying
iy. We do not imagine that* the tn
oman meant at all deliberately to
) or steal,?she would have been kt
palled at the thought,?for she
oked for all the world like a reput- j11
le church member, but this was
ecisely what she was doing, evincg
a lack of high-toned Christian
liieiple, which, in the.second gener- 'n
ion, would develop into falsehood J11
id roguery, and lead to Canada or tu
e penitentiary. ^
This same mother may some day ^
ind weeping at an iron-grated door- 00
ay behind which is one of her boys, w
e wondering meanwhile how in
e world it came to pass that a child
carefully raised should have come l,<
so dreadful an end. It will proba
y never occur to her for a moment m
at she herself planted the seed that n)
is home, at last, such hitter fruit.
fine sense of honor that instinct- V
ely recoils from the faintest sugistion
of fraud or falsehood, is a **e
ingthat cannot be too scrupulously "
ltivated in the rising generation,
id must he cultivated more than is
iiig done if we would save society T1
)in "going to the had." If there "i
anything on which we pride our- r()
Ives in America, it its our "smart- 1,1
ss," and "Sam Slick" is our patron 5lP
int. And we are aj)t to he migh- 111
y pleased with the outcropping of 1,1
is characteristic in our children. ^J1
hove all things we glory in their
ling "smart," as furnishing assu- S1(
nee that they will "get along." If tfj1
ere is anything we are ambitious ly
, it is to see them "getting along,"
ough often it is only another name 811
r hurrying hell ward.
What is greatly wanted is less so- 08
itude about mere "cleverness," w
id more about character; less con- tu
rn about getting along in this y
)rid, and more about pleasing (Jod 'u
id getting to heaven.?[Baptist >'(
acher. 1,1
? ? ? hi
CONCKRMNti INK. c?
The Boston Journal has an article aj
ion the subject of "Authors' Ink," gj
id it says that violet is the color so
uch affected by American writers
at it has come to he known as au- re
ors' ink. Well, we should judge
' their literature that American fli
ithors used violet ink. ()f
Still we do not think that violet is fr(
serviceable ink. Jt is sure to fade; p,
een ink will fade, and so will blue,
lack ink is the best by all odds, and j1(
i.\ t to black comes carmine. 0f
We have made a good many exrinients
with different inks and r?
fferent colors of ink upon parch- p*
ent. An ink that will hold its '
lor upon genuine sheepskin for one
iar is a mighty good ink. The (.(,
- - ?-i i. J-.i- -11 r*.V
'Onige VlOICt J1IK WJII unit' Hint- j
)in in less than forty-eight hours; p!
een will go about as soon ; the so- 0j
lied indelible red seems to he dura- j,J
e, and there are numerous wateroof
black inks that will last as long te
the iiarehment itself. sp
A writer should, however, use the a,
k that suits him best. J lis ink, irr
s paper and his pens should be po
liat he regards as the finest; he sp
ould have the best tools to work XV;
ith, and then he will be more likely ar
turn out good work. A writer ^
ould take pride in his copy; prin- u,
rs have some rights which should m
respected. Very many profes- f0
mal writers write execrable hands
id some of them (miserable crea- a(]
res!) are really vain of their J.n
retched chirography. Quite often os
i awkward or blind chirography j0
vers poor orthography. Some- sn
nes the writer assumes a careless- S()
iss because he fancies that careless |,|
irography is one of the trade marks
.symptoms of genius. Hut in most j1(
ses it is a lack of training in youth ].j
at is betrayed by loose handwritir.?fC'hieairo
News. a
A POSTMASTER RESIGNS. "in
The postmaster at Mount Carmel, ov
linois, who is a democrat, recently 1111
ndered his resignation to President re
arrison, and availed himself of the dr
(portunity to unburden himself as is
Hows: ed
> Hon. B. Harrison, President, etc. he
Sir: By the grace of (iod and (iro- sa
>r Cleveland, I am postmaster at ha
ount Carmel. My official term sei
ill expire January 20, ixoo. In ad- fei
tion to editing the mails of this city hi
am also the editor of the Mount m
irmel Register, a live, local, demo- pi:
die newspaper, established in is:j<), ll
d published at $1.2") a year, cash in afi
vance; a discount of 20 per cent, hi
ministers and presidents. sei
While the office has agreed with ti<
i? and I have in the main agreed
ith the office, and while L might ?
isonahly entertain the hope of hold- wl
gon for eight months longer, yet I up
1 it my duty to tender you my lo
-agnation. w<
Being a democrat, I have preached go
at "to the victors belong the no
oils." I feel disposed to practice "(
at which I preach. la
Your immediate predecessor hoped lir
build up his party by keeping the as
""Hi"" ?i N'jiii !tri? iirnb- v<
r|#wr?a iiw" w...vv. 1
ly aware, if you arc at nil familiar sil
ith the vocabulary of true and trite all
yings, that his name is now Dennis.
1 am moved further to tender to
m my resignation because of the os
xiety of a barnyard full of patriots on
succeed me. I believe that a tar- lui
is a tax. They do not. Therefore m
ey are of your own kith and kin- yt
ed, and he who provides not for his of
rn household is worse than an inti- in
I. 1 am told that you are not built 7!)
at way. " :tl
Hut to resume the thread of my b;i
seourse: The boys who are anxious en
' - ??????
1)0 my successor arc very hungry;
ey have been feeding on shucks
id icicles for four long, weary years;
e official calf is fat and they long to
ste its tender joints. They fought
niong themselves) hied (at the
>se), and are willing to die for the
o. p. When I assorted that you
ere the Chinaman's candidate and
e rat-tail soup with chopsticks, they
,'ore hy Dudley and Foster that it
us a campaign canard, and threatK?(I
to detail blocks of five to fry
c fut out of me. Fortunately for
e their threats were never carried
toexecution. They carried torches,
ank with the coons, sang "Orandi's
iiat will just lit Benny," and did
vers and many foolish things, none
which would they have been
lilty of doing had they not scented
i aroma of postoffice on the crisp
orning air. And the picans of
aise which they sounded when it
came evident that you "had got
ere, Eli," will ever he a Sahara in
y memory.
For these and other reasons, unnecsary
to mention, I tender you my
signation, with the hope that my
ccessor will he animated by a simir
spirit in 181)3. If he is, your
smocratic successor will he spared
e painful necessity of "turning the
seals out." I am respectfully yours,
Frank \V. Havill, P. M.
X. B.?I would rather he right
an he postmaster.
This Ykar's Elections.?The
rrent year is notably an "off year,"
general politics. Only eleven
ates elect State officers this year,
entucky will hold a general elec>11
for State treasurer on August ">.
lections in ten other States will
ke place on November ;>. On that
iv :
Iowa will elect governor and lieunant
governor. '
Maryland will elect comptroller
id attorney general.
Massachusetts will elect governor
id State officers.
Mississippi will elect a supreme
art judge and two regents.
New Jersey will elect governor and
ate officers.
New York will elect State officers,
:cept governor and lieutenant govnor.
Ohio will elect governor and State
ficers.
Pennsylvania will elect a State
insurer.
Virginia will elect governor and
ate officers.
Political interest this year accordgly
is centered in the elections of
e newly admitted States, North
nkota, South Dakota, Washington
id Montana, which are now framg
their constitutions and will elect
11 State governments and legislares
which will choose eight new
n i ted States senators. Each new
ate also elects a representative in
infi-njc nvcimtKmitli DiiL-nt;! wliirli
ill elect two.
The terms of no United States senors
expire next year, so the elec111
of members of the legislature
is year is of interest as bearing on
itional politics only in cases wliere
embers of the legislature chosen
is year hold office for two years,
tie senate elected in New York
ate will vote for a United States
nator in 1891 to succeed the Hon.
'illiam M. Evarts.?[Albany Argus.
Tin": Proposed Road Convexox.?We
are heartily glad to see
at the suggestion favoring a State
ad convention has met with so
ueli favor. Now the next step is to
,rree upon the time and place of
eeting, and arrange for the appointed
of delegates. A sufficient time
lould he allowed to elapse before
e meeting to permit a free discustin
of the subject, so that the deleites
may have some definite ideas
ready formed, which will enable
em to agree upon some plan to be
ibmitted to the legislature.
It has occurred to us that the quickt
way to get this matter into shape
as for the commissioner of agriculre
to take hold of it. We therefore
rote to Col. A. P. Butler, respectlly
making this suggestion, and he
?ry promptly replied on the loth
stant, stating that it would afford
111 pleasure to call a convention to
nsider the road question, and to
d in the work to the extent of his
?ility, and that he would be very
ad to have any suggestions in reird
to the n atter.
Now, in this connection, we would
snectfully suggest:
hirst. That Colonel Butler request
e clerks of court of all the counties
the State to select two delegates
mi each county, who will promise
attend the convention.
Second. That the convention lie
ild in Columbia at the usual time
holding the State fair.
Third. That it frame a bill on the
ad question to be submitted to the
gislature.?[Aiken Recorder.
~
Evil of Sxfff Dipping.?Rently
at Birmingham, Ala., Mrs. J.
Murphy died from a disease which
id been nuzzling physicians for
silt years. A dozen of physicians
id treated her, but none of them
ere able to say what was the matr.
For two years past she has conuntly
suffered the most intense pain
id said that she felt $ometliing
owing in her stomach. Tlie doers
could feel a hard substance in her
>mach hut could not tell what it
us. The woman was too weak for
i operation and physicians from all
or the State puzzled over the case
itil she died. An autopsy was
ade. and in her stomach the doctors
und two pounds of wood. For
,'enty years Mrs. Murphy had been
[dieted to the habit of dipping
uff. She had small wooden brush,
and would often bite off and swalw
small pieces of the brush. These
lal! particles of wood had formed a
lid mass in her stomach, and the
ock weighed just two pounds. The
lysicians say this was the cause of
r death. It is the first case of the
ml on record.
gy The world loves to laugh, and
st as the week ends the derail
portion of Europe is convulsed
or the following paragraph, which
irrates, it is said, an actual occurnce.
"Trichina is still greatly
ended by Germans. The latest case
an odd one. A peasant was arrest for
not having his pigs examined
fore selling their pork. 'Oh," he
id, 'but that's not necessary. I
ive a perfectly certain method of
ttling my pigs' condition,' Under
ir of punishment, he stated that
s pastor was always hungry, so lie
akes up the first sausage from each
gfor him and sends it as a present,
know he eats it at once. Then
ter a week I go and inouire about
s health. If he is well i can safely
II the pork, and can save examina>11
fees too.''
A Berlin judge, the other day,
lien addressing a locksmith who
pea red as a witness, spoke as folws:
"I should have thought you
>11 hi dissuade your workmen from
ling to law for such a trifle." Witss?That's
just what I did! I said:
)l ...,M I (? !?? ,.1/m.I- a<n
Iiuwiv'ii, rvuw i, uiu VIVIIV ?u nn.
vvyer's will take your coat, and the
wyer will strip off your sliirt, and
for the judge, why, man, he'll skin
in alive !" You see, I talked sen)lv
to the folks like that, hut it was
I of no use!
A Lakc; k U ka pe V i nf??The largt
vine in the world is said to be
le growing at Oys, Portugal, which
is been in bearing since 1802. Its
axinuun yield was in 1864, in which
>ar it produced a sufficient quantity
grapes to make l(>o gallons of wine;
1874, 1404 gallons, and in 1884 only
4 gallons. It covers an area of 5,f>
square feet, and the stem at the
ise measures 04 feet in circumferice.?[New
York Telegram.