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lewis m. grist, proprietor. J ^ii Jndrpcndcnt <J[;imilij Itepapcr: <$oi| the promotion of the, ftolifiijal, ^oqtal, ^jiprultural and (fominei;cial Jntcrcsts of tltq ?outft. J terms?$2.00 a year in advance. VOL. 38. YORKVILLE, S. C? WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16, 1893. NO. 11. i u- Knriro.miiiinor" on/i I niar T'll send vou to iail for contempt | FAMILIAR PHRASES. BIS SECOND Mlf By MAURICE THOMPSON. (Copyright, 1881, by American Press Association.! CHAPTER XIII. THK MAID OF THE MISTRAL. ^Maid 'of the | Edgar Julian arrived at Savannah and was installed as a member of the Roose- J < velt household a day or two before the i Hmnnf Mm Roosevelt's nartv. He im- I mediately began a searching examination of the situation of his employer's affairs, and fonnd it grave. Ellis had done his work well, and precisely in such a way as to close up the very doorway of "their success. Julian could not see any immediate escape. Of course the plans of Messrs. Roosevelt and Largely had been kept profoundly secret, so that Ellis and his New York coadjutors could have had no counterplan in view, but their operations had effected quite the same thing as if directed to that end. The fact was that Florida had suddenly attracted the eyes of capitalists and land speculators in both Europe and America. Certain vast draining schemes were beginning to take shape, and their features and probable results to be bruited about. The orange fever, the jute fever, the early vegetable fever, the Le Conte pear fever and the pine''and cedar lumber fever had started a rush of emigration; this advanced the price of land enormously; the consequence was that the state authorities offered large grants of the public domain as subsidies to induce the building of canals and railways. Many schemes had been projected; some of them had failed, others had fallen into litigation, and the franchises of nearly all of them were of doubtful validity. Out of this sort of chaos Edgar Julian was expected to bring order. For two days he buried himself in Mr. Roosevelt's office amid a heap of books, pamphlets and documents, plodding slowly, step by step, through the history of previous schemes and litigations. In the meantime he scarcely more than spoke to Rosalie, who was longing to hear all he could tell her about Provence and le Chateau Chenier. The evening for the party at the Roosevelt mansion arrived; charming weather with a cloudless sky, and the moon at its full; a breeze from the ocean just cool enough to make open windows a luxury. The company was not large, between fifty and one hundred guests, but it was ?? nlln Kwllionf Ann .Tnliftn au CAM/pUUUau; Viiuwuv vuv* v passed from room to room in the course of the evening, finding himself once in the conservatory whero a wilderness of tropical plants and trees were kept in a state 'of luxuriant confusion. Here he came upon Ellis and Rosalie Chenier, standing under a palm spray by a noisy little fountain. They were engaged in earnest conversation. He turned away and left them; but not before a swift pang had cut through his heart. How divinely sweet sh^ihoked standing there before the darkfellow, her rare face upturned to She wore a dress of some rich, clhrging blue stuff that followed the outlines of her form; there was old l*ce about her throat, and she wore pearls in her pale gold hair: a single great ruby, the gift of Aunt Marguerite, shone like a big drop of red wine on the fair space at her throat Mrs. Roosevelt was a charming hostess, easy, affable, not seeking homage, as busy among her guests, and quite as unassuming, as a bee among flowers. She took great pains to introduce Julian, and always with some politely elusive suggestion of his distinguished character. Few married women were present and most of them were of the younger class, Stately and reserved, as became southern matrons, but bright and interesting on occasion. Toward the close of the evening Edgar Julian found Rosalie disengaged and offered her his arm. "Won't you take a turn with me?" he said in a low tone; "all your guests seem happily fixed just now, and 1 may not have so good a chance to talk with you again soon, i am off for Florida tomorrow." "So soonr she exclaimed, taking his arm; "but you will not be gone long; you will return" "1 cannot speak with certainty. 1 shall have to go to Jacksonville and Tallahassee, and then away down through the wilderness to Ocala and Tampa. 1 may be gone a month." He enunciated the word month as if it had been century or eeon. "1 should think you would enjoy that trip. 1 have always imagined 1 should like Florida." she said. "But I have been traveling so much, and so rapidly," he replied, carelessly taking from a table, as they passed it. a spray of heliotrope. "And yon have not told me what you Baw," she quickly said. "I do so much want to hear more abont onr old chateau in Provence. 1 call it ours," she added, looking up and smiling archly, "because 1 am so far away that the true owner cannot be injured by the assumption of title; and then papa has beeu fastening the fancy in my head ever since my first recollections." "It ought to be a very pleasant fancy. 1 was charmed with Provence," he said, with somethiug like evasiveness in his ,4Kr?f ahq wAnltl nnf nam trv liva WUVl VU? VUV ?? VM?? UV? VMt V ?v M(W there; it is all so different from what one sees and feels and reveres in America. Life in Provence is good for fancy to feed on, aud for stuff ont of which to bnild romance; bnt it is not conducive to earnest thought and worthy effort toward great achievements." "But what was our old chateau like?' she demanded; "did you fetch any souvenir from its ruins?" "Yes," he replied, "1 brought quite a number. You shall examine them some day. One in particular will, if I mistake not, affect you very strangely when you see it" "Oh, what is it?" she cried, in her excitement leaning heavily on his arm and gazing eagerly up into his face. "It is something very beautiful," he responded; "I don't believe I ought to forestall or weaken your surprise by any attempt at description; and besides, 1 wish to see if you will adopt my view when you have seen the?the?well, let's call it the Ohenier Souvenir." "Yon have set my heart to fluttering," she naively said, carrying her free hand to her breast. "Mine is disturbed too," he replied. "It's really exciting, isn't it?" she went on, not dreaming of what his words were meaut to convey. "While 1 think of it," he said, changing his tone, "is Rosalie a name that runs back in your family?" "It was my father's grandmother's name; it may date much farther up the line," she replied; "papa says it is a Cheuier name. But why do you ask?" "The name is common in France. 1 beard it often while I was there, and Chenier also 1 met one Chenier who was a baron, and another who was a wooden shod laborer in the vineyards." "Bat the souvenir?" Ah, yes, 1 shall show you that when I can. It is among my traps at Chicago. I did uot have time to unpack, you know. I was rushed off down here without even a breathing space. 1 have writteu to have a lot of things for- J warded and the souvenir is included. It must remain a profound and beautiful mystery until it arrives." "1 can't bear mysteries and waiting," she exclaimed with real vehemence. "1 shall lose all interest unless you tell me uow." He stopped and looked down into her J sweet gray-brown eyes, he thought he j saw repressed tears in them. They were j wholly the eyes of a child now Her | lips were red {is cherries. "It is a small gold cross with the let- i ters R. C. on it," he said, with a prompt- j ness that almost amounted to bluntness; "it is very beautiful." ../xi- ?j ~i if?" oVio "UU, UUU HUCiO uiu ;uu <? V. exclaimed. "At the Chateau Cheuier. A peasant who lives there dog it up iu the garden. [ paid an enormous price for it. The R. i C. must stand for Rosalind Cheuier, you know." . "How 6tranger she murmured in a : musing way, with her eyes cast down. "Papa has the story of that cross in ! manuscript, written in Provencal. It is a beautiful legend, called 'The Maid of the MistraL' " Julian smiled at her simple faith, but he would not have clouded it for the , world. A great love for her had fastened itself upon him; it was struggling for expression, and yet he felt sure he ought not to speak. She seemed too much a child to have the fire of his passion revealed to her?it might destroy her as a flame would destroy a flower. "Was the 'Maid of the Mistral' a lovo story?" he ask^d. "Oh, yes, and so sweetl Alphon6e, the knight, was so brave, and Rosalie, the Maid of the Mistral, was warm and true and good, and they loved each other so dearly. You know the mistral is a wind in Provence; the maid would sit upon the castle wall when the mistral blew, j and play her lute and sing, and her lover would bear her, no matter where he was, because the mistral would take her song and the lute chords and bear them to him. She gave him the cross when he went away to fight for his king, and he wore it ou his heart throueh the far east. Whenever be would hear her singing and playing the lute he would kiss the cross, and when she bad finished she would kiss the ruby ring he had given her. 1 cannot tell you an ma auventnres; bnt at last he returned, and they were married on the castle wall while the uiistral was blowing." "Very sweet." he said, "all those old. old stories are?shall 1 tell yon one?" The blood had suddenly flowed in npon bis heart; his face was pale, and his voice was low and husky. She looked up quickly, as if to confirm a thought, and a sudden flush spread over her face, her eyes fell at once. His passion had betrayed him. "I am neglecting my guests," she tremblingly exclaimed, "see, some of them are going. You must excuse ins? 1 must be polite." CHAPTER XIV MANY MKN OF MANY MINDS. , jffcjjft! J >- V&f i U Wk. WM\ "Conic to my room and write me a bill." Mr. Largely arrived from New York on the morning following the Roosevelt party, and Jnliun immediately left for Jacksonville on the same train with El- ' lis, who Wiis going to Tallahassee. These yonng men politely avoided each other. Julian had found out all the facts of Ellis' career, and with a lawyer's contempt for criminals, could not hide his aversion. As for Ellis, he was too busy with his schemes to give much thought to anything else; nor did he dream that Julian contemplated any work of circumvention The experience and success of Edgar ! Julian in the management of a number ! of most complicated and important rail- j road suite affecting the vast commercial j and manufacturing interests of Chicago j had given him wealth, prestige and un- ! bounded self reliance His name was at j the head of the list of western railroad | lawyers, and he deserved the distinction. ! But even the profoundest and shrewdest i of men sometimes find a business skein, J very simpie in appearand, wuivu ?cfuses to be unraveled. Such an one was i the Floridian railroad tangle. Julian went to Jacksonville; Ellis went j to Tallahassee. The former, with all his 1 acumen and experience, found himself at fault; the latter, not knowing the dif- | ficnltness of his task, went straight to | success. Ellis had made fast friends cf all the state officials, and through them had for- j warded his interests in a hundred desir- ; able ways. He went among the leading j men of various towns and neighbor- j hoods, and by force of personal magnet- I ism, a charming voice and taking man- j ners, built up a following that served his \ turn where money and mere business j knowledge would have failed. Julian was not a little surprised to : find that even in Jacksonville Ellis' name was upon the lips of all tie push- ! ing capitalists and land traders. At Ocala and Tampa he made the same discovery. From (i-ainseville, in the heart j of the orange groves, he wrote to Mr. Largely. In the letter was tho following ( very striking sentence: "We shall have to give everything up or make terms with this man Ellis." One day Ellis read in a Jacksonville daily newspaper a paragraph that set him to thinking as ho had never thought before. It disclosed to his quick under standing the whole or ucigar ouiiuiib mission to Savannah and Florida. He read and reread this pregnant statement: | "Mr. Edgar Julian, a distinguished rail- ; way attorney of Chicago, is in the city, I stopping at the Duval House. It is un- I derstood that he represents some Chicago capitalists in connection with Mr. Roose- ! velt, of Savannah, and that he is here } with a view to making it lively for those who expect to control the lines into the orange regie i. Our friend Colonel Frank Ellis would lo well to keep a weather eye out for the bearings of this new craft." Mr. Largely telegraphed to Julian: j "Make no terms. We'll crush him. He's ; got no backing." A few days later Mr. Roosevelt and Mr. Largely went to Jacksonville, arriving on the same day that brought Sir Edmond Kane and his party. The presence of 6uch a number of railway magnates, including a member of the British parliament and a German baron, was blazoned forth to the world by the clever newspapers of the city. Edgar Julian, Mr. Largely and Mr. Roosevelt had a meeting and conference with Sir Edmond Kane and the Baron Wertheimer. but no arrangement was reached. Then Mr. Ellis appeared and sought an interview with the distinguished foreigners. They listened to his eloquent description of his schemes, their bearing upon the future development of Florida, and the rich feturus that capital Invested therein might soon expect No sooner had he appeared in the city than the daily papers were full of flattering notices; the leading citizens called upon him, attention was withdrawn from the distinguished foreigners. "Are you going to capitulate to this Einooth tongued tyro?" exclaimed Mr. Largely, half growling, half taunting, as he and Julian stood on an tipper veranda of their hotel and 6aw Sir Edinond Kane, the Baron Wertheimer and Mr. Ellis drive awav together in a carriage. Julian did not answer immediately. The question had struck him like a blow in the face. "He's no railroad man," continued Largely, shrugging his stout shoulders and laying his hand heavily on the youug man's arm; "you can see that at a glance; and yet, 1 suppose, the most brilliant lawyer in the country will go down before him." "If yon refer to me when you speak of thf> most brilliant lawyer in the country, 1 chii say that 1 shall not go down before Mr. Ellis. At present he seejus legally in possession of certain rights and franchises, stocks", bonds, certificates of landed donations and so on, of which he cannot be dispossessed"? "That is not the point," interposed Largely, lifting his calculating eyes to Julian's clouded face. "It is not a matter of law. it is a question of personal influence. He has captured these foreigners." "Yes, he is lying to them in the most approved southern fashion." "He is using his gifts to some purpose, then," brutally replied Largely. "Yes. to some purpose." sneered Julian. ' "And what do yon think of this draining and transpeninsular canal scheme that Ellis is talking off" inquired Largely in a more earnest tone. "Frankly, there may be a great deal in it, though 1 doubt it. But all the same it will serve Ellis a grand turn. It gives his faculty for charming exaggeration the fullest field for action." "You rate Ellis too low, I fear," Mr. Largely quietly remarked "No, you mistake me. 1 would not detract from his genuine genius, but you will soon discover what is already demonstrated to me. that he is utterly untruthful and unscrupulous. He is a bold, gifted, ill tniined mlventnrer. "But his lack of training seems not to have discovered itself in his operations down here," Largely answered. Julian made an impatient gesture as if to shake off a disagreeable feeling. "In your telegram to me the other day. 1 think you spoke of crushing him, or something of the sort." he presently remarked. Largely laughed aloud; then "At that distance it seemed easy," ho generously replied; "but upon a nearer inspection I 6ee some difficulty." It was Julian's turn to laugh. He had felt the difficulty all the time. "Aren't you getting almost too conscientious for a first class railroad luw3*er, Julian?" Largely put this question bluntly with his cigar turned up until it stood almost parallel with his nose. "Perhaps." "1 believe it." "You know the remedy?" "No." "(Jet you a lawyer who is not too conscientious." "Oh, the deuce! Now, seriously, Julian, I've a plan which 1 believe would knock these fellows higher than a kite if properly carried out." "Your plan, 1 presume, is one not meant for a tender conscience to direct," suggested Julian. Largely winced and laughed. "It would be a deadener, all the same," he replied. "Success is what we came down here for." Edgar Julian was a strong instance of the northern conscience. His convictions had all the purity and something of tho frigid quality of ice. Mr. Largely represented the money making north, earnest, conscienceless, godless, but honest by the gauge of Wall street or the Chicago board of trade honesty. When he heard of some poor fellow getting tangled and choked, he lighted a cigar and said, "He ought to have had better luck; let him bite again!" He had come up and out from the people, the herd, bv beatincr and banging right and left. He presently turned to Julian, and in a tone of cool inquiry said: "What is the legal result if one railroad corporation consolidates with another, and the two take u new name as a new corporation?" "There would be a merging of the corporate existence of both original bodies into the new body," replied Julian. "I know that; but what would become of lands and other subsidies granted to the two original corporatians, upon condition that their roads were to be built within a certain time?" "It would depend much upon the original stipulations." "Well, to put the case exactly, suppose that certain private persons have granted the right of way and large landed donations to a railroad corporation, incorporated under a certain name and having a certain line, the said right of way and donations being granted under the express contract that said corporation is to build over a certain line within a specified time. Then further suppose that said corporation, after getting a deed to said landed donations and right of way, proceeds to merge its corporate existence in that of another corporation, and takes a new name and commences to build over a line different from that specified in the contract; what is the legal remedy?" "I doubt if there i3 any," said Julian; "but equity might afford relief." "Well, the equitable remedy, then?" inquired Largely. "Perpetual injunction, perhaps." "Would a court enjoin the further building of the road?" "It might if irreparable injury were threatened to the grantors of the donations and rights of way." Mr. Largely turned upon his heel, walked to the veranda railing and leaned over, resting his elbows on the top. After awhile he turned again to Julian and said: "Come to my room and write me a bill, a bond and an affidavit for a restraining order." He went at once to his room, followed by the mystified lawyer. "Now make these papers watertight," he added; "leave names and dates blank so that they can be inserted to suit any case." Julian 6pent the rest of the day preparing most elaborate papers of the kind desired. After he had finished he turned to Largely and said: "May 1 ask what in the world you want those for?" tapping the folded documents. "1 have no definite need for them just at this moment," was the evasive reply; "but I don't know how soon I may put them to work." . Julian did not pursue the matter further. He rose to go. "Julian," said Largely, his voice cutting dully through the uir, "you don't care to help wreck three or four promising railroad companies, I reckon?" "No, I should not know how to begin. If you will excuse me" "You are excused," interrupted Largely dryly, "you and Roosevelt both. You are too sentimental for iny purposes. I guess I can manage this little affair alone." Next day, without disclosing his plan to either Julian or Mr. Roosevelt, Largely was for several hours in close consultation with a firm of able Jacksonville attorneys. Ho returned to the hotel and joined Mr. Roosevelt and Julian at supper. IIo was now in excellent spirits. He joked freely and laughed a good deal. "I feel as though something was going to happen," he said, "and not happen to , me. at that." CHAPTER XV. BY MOONLIGHT. //>- -o , "iic ?rf/t /cM i/om 11 he (lets the chtmcc." Colonel Talbot l)ecame a frequent visitor at Roosevelt place, and his marked attentions to Rosalie might have attracted some notice from one less wrapped op in the young girl's happiness | than Aunt Marguerite. As it was, howj ever, almost every day saw him spend at least an hour in her company. He did ! not dream of being in 'love in her. He I felt perfectly secure, knowing that he should marry Miss Fain within a few months; but he was perfectly conscious, all the same, that a sweet power was drawing him deeper and deeper into the rosy atmosphere that surrounded this dear mysterious mountain maid. One evening, a short time after Edgar Julian's departure for Jacksonville, Rosalie sat alone on the Roosevelt ver: anda, lightly thrumming on her banjo, and singing broken 6natches from one of the little French songs her father had taught her, when Colonel Talbot's baritone joined in. He had come through i o*i/1 11 rv thn fifAnawitli tiiC IIUUC Oiuc^ai^ UUU UJ/ V4*V wvv^w .. . out attracting her attention. She turned toward him, smiling sweet! ly, rising to greet him, still singing. ! When they were seated he begged her to go over the little ditty again. Their voices rose together in strange accord, and seemed to go away 6ide by side up ; into the realms of moonlight. She felt the touch of strength his presence gave to the scene, and it was a very pleasant | and satisfying thing to sit there beside : him. It delighted Rosalie to have him ; readily falling into her moods and shari ing her whims. She liked him all the : more because she knew he was Miss ! Faiu's lover. In her simplicity she felt j that the man who was going to marry ; her best friend was in a position to make him quite dear to her. Colonel Talbot was leaning his head j close to hers as they sang. They were I both unaware that a tall, dark man had i stopped in the street, just beyond the : courtyard wall, and was loolring and j listening through the gate. The man clutched a slat of the gate as I if to rend it, then turned and walked j away with his very blood on fire. ! Colonel Talbot, as the singing came to an end. took the banjo from Rosalie and said: "Let us go walking?this splendid moonlight makes an enchanted world of i the city. I want to show you the loveliest spot under the sky." "I shall have to ask Aunt Marguerite first," she answered. "If she says I may go, 1 shall be glad to take the turn. I have been indoors all day." When she returned she had a light blue scarf over her head, and her face i beamed the more witchingly from the ! contrast. A few bright locks of her hair curled over her broad forehead. "We are not going serenading," she said, taking the banjo and putting it on | a chair; "aunt says I may not be gone I longer than a half hour." Rosalie hung lightly on Colonel Tal; bot's arm, feeling a deep sense of secuI rity, mingled with a girlish consciousness i of the romantic possibilities of the situa; tion. It must be remembered that she was fresh troin tne reading 01 stories iuu j of knights and troubadours, of princes . in disguise, and of lady loves for whom men gladly faced death. If she dreamed ! of a lover, she made him, in some sort, a champion sans peur et sans reproche. She would marry him who would win i her by personal prowess directed by the \ fervor of romantic love; his nature must i be lofty and his aims pure; he must be a Launcelot in bravery, a Bayard in honor. Many young girls have such a dream; : but with Rosalie it was a hereditament, a part of her nature's fiber, j Talbot nestled her arm closer to his side. They uow and then passed low stoops where groups of people were enJ joying the balmy breeze and the inoon: light. He felt a keen satisfaction in thus having this fresh young girl all to him. self, and it thrilled him to feel her light ; touch on his arm. "But where is that lovely scene yon I were going to show me?" she demanded, just as they met n tall man, who, with a wide brimmed hint slouched over his face, was leisurely strolling in a direc| tion opposite to theirs "Why, that?that was Mr. Ellis, was it not?" she added almost in a whisper. "I believe it was." he replied: "I could not see his face." "But 1 thought he was in Jackson1 ville," she murmured. He felt her arm quiver a little, and her j voice was disturbed, as if with npleasur' able emotion He felt a responsive pang i leap through his own breast at the thought of any man save himself caus! ing that tender flutter. "We shall reach the spot 1 spoke of in a few moments now," he said, unconsciously quickening his pace and drawing her rapidly along. At length they came to where a street : had been temporarily walled across to ' prevent travel in it during the erection of some public improvement. Hero Tal| bot paused, finding their further progress ! barred by the wall across the street. I "I suppose we shall have to forego the j pleasure I promised," ho said: "it would j be a long way around." j "I think we might better go back, any' way," said Rosalie, "the half hour is already quite gone, I fear." "Oh, no," exclaimed Talbot, "it is im! possible. We haven't been ten minutes j coming." Ho looked at his watch, hold! ing it in a spot of moonlight. Rosalie had turned about and ho could j do nothing more than turn also. They 1 were both quite surprised to find that the man they had supposed to be Ellis had ' evidently followed them. He was stand: ing, or rather he was in the act of turni ing away, not fifty feet from them, j Talbot and Rosalie looked a.t each: 1 other inquiringly as Ellis, if it was he, I walked diagonally across the street at rv ! rapid pace, soon hiding himself among i the trees of a little park. ; "Surely that was not Ellis!" said Tal! bot in a half suppressed voice: "he1 : would not act so strangely." I "Let us return at once," said Rosalio J with a shudder. A sudden sense of j danger had almost overpowered her. "Never fear," said Colonel Talbot; "no ' doubt the man means no harm; but if ho I were a robber ho would not attempt ! anything in this part of the city." i She clung more closely now, and in a j shaking voice urged him to take her j home quickly. lie thought her excitement tlio mere timidity of a young girl. If ho had known all that she knew he would not have wondered at her emotion. On their way back to the Roosevelt mansion they talked little. Rosalio hung heavily on his arm. When they reached the littlo gato ho opened it; sho passed through, and suddenly turning faced him in great excitement. "Watch as you go home," she exclaimed in a sharp whisper; "he will kill you if he gets the chance." Her excitement and solicitude thrilled him strangely. "Oh, there's no danger," he replied in a voice hoarse and unsteady. He had not taken ten paces when he heard the click of the gate latch, and then Rosalie allied, in a low, thin vdfce, "Colonel Talbotl" "Here," he answered, turning about. "Do not forget to be careful. There is great danger." He slowly strode toward his home, driving out of his mind Rosalie's words of warning. Suddenly a man confronted him. He stopped short. "Is that you, Colonel Talbot?" said a voice, deep and husky, that he did not recognize. "Yes, sir; what do you want?" he responded, gripping his cane and making ready to defend himself. I The figure moved, passing across a ; fleck of moonlight Talbot saw the face and instantly remembered it The next moment something fcinicif"him on the ' j head, a dull, heavy blow, and he fell | upon the ground still and senseless. The i cfrvA-rui/1 nvor him And hnrriedlv j UjjUlU w-?. J I but coolly searched his pockets, until a i paper was found, which it carefully exj amined, as if to be euro of its identity, ' then rapidly walked away. I The next morning the servants brought | to Roosevelt place a rumor that Colonel i Talbot had been found in the street ! dead, murdered by some unknown perI son. When the papers were brought in | they contained a full account. Colonel I Talbot was not dead, but had been i knocked senseless by a blow from a I sandbag or some such instrument His j condition was extremely critical. It had I been impossible, so far, t<j restore his ! consciousness, and no clew to the perpetrator of the foul deed had been discov! ered. The whole thing was veiled in : mystery. No robbery had been com| mitted. The colonel's magnificent gold i watch and seal, and his pocketbook, conI taming a small sum of money, were left j undisturbed on his person. He was ' without enemies, so far as the reporters could discover, and not the slightest | reason for his assassination suggested it 'l-i.-l A 1.1.. I sen, save nmt it wax uuiuy luuitu wan | political intrigue might have led to it. | A certain carpetbag candidate for con; gress, who had been beaten mainly by J Talbot's exertions, was none too good, so the papers 6tated, to have done the deed, i seeing that in his own state, Kansas, he i had once been convicted of cow stealing! The blow fell heavily on Mildred Fain. | As days and weeks passed by, with no I change in Talbot's singular condition, | she grew thin, and her face wore the look of one who has little left to care for. Rosalie witnessed her distress with | a sympathy deepened and Btraugely colored by the knowledge she carried. She had told no one what she knew about the matter, and this secrecy preyed upon her. No doubt she would have told Mrs. Roosevelt had it not been for her aunt's deepseated prejudice against Ellis. Then, too, circumstances -had rendered the young man's guilt a matter of mystery, if not of serious doubt, in her mind. No one else seemed to suspect him, and in fact his presence in the city on the night of the crime was contradicted by his being on the day previous at Jessup, a town many miles south of the city, where he had an important meeting with railroad friends. Rosalie often felt an impulse toward writing to Ellis, but quite as ofjen she recoiled from the thought. She sometimes longed to see him and hear what he would say to the dreadful accusation; then she would start and tremble at the idea of talking with a murderer. The poor child?for in experience she was scarcely more?could do nothing save brood over this strange dark subject by day and dream of it by night. Mildred Fain came often to see her, and they aggravated rather than softened each other's distress. Mrs. Roosevelt quickly noticed her niece's trouble, and after a little thought attributed it to a tender feeling on her part for Colonel Talbot. It would have ! pleased Aunt Marguerite very much, if Rosalie must marry, to see her become the wife of a representative southerner like Talbot. Of course she wa3 not informed of his engagement with Miss Fain, as it had not become public, and he was wealthy, of good family, handsome and fascinating. But A unt Marguerite was too shrewd a woman of the world to venture any meddling. She shrank from contemplating such a thing as Rosalie leaving her, even to marry a low country aristocrat, and she was afraid to have the subject of love considered between them, for fear that if once the thought got started it might never stop. Bo Rosalie was left to bear the burden of her suspicions, her doubts, her fears, her hopes, all alone. It was a great load for a Dright, innocent, unsophisticated mind to be weighted with. It could not wholly drive out the gayety and sprightlines3; it did not blot the roses una dimples from her cheeks, nor did it dim her eyes; but it hung like a cloud on the horizon, all the time threatening to overcast her whole sky. [to he continued next wkkk.] THE FI ZZLE ABOUT EASTER, j Not one person in ten can tell you i why it is that Christmas, the day eelej brated as Christ's birthday, always j falls on the same day of the month, j while Easter, the day upon which we ; celebrate his ascension, changes every year. In giving a solution of this ; riddle, the first point to be considered : is this: Christ was crucified on Frij day, the 14th day of the Jewish month ' Xisan, and rose from the grave on the 1 following Sunday. The 14th day of i Xisan was the Jewish "passover," j the day observed by them in conuuemi oration of the sprinkling of their door ; posts With ttie 0100(1 Ui mu jiusuuui i lamb on the night when the "destroying , Angel" passed over the dwellings of the Israelites, but smote the first horn of the Egyptian. As the year of the Jews is a lunar year, and the 14th qf ! Nisan is always a full moon day, the j Christian church, regarding the obj servance of the crucifixion of Christ as a substitute for the old "Passover" of ] the Jews, determined Easter by the rules for reckoning the Jewish ecclesiastical year. Christmas, intended to commemorate the birth of Christ, had j no connection with the ritual of the old | church, and, like dozens of other imii movable feast days of the Church of Rome, many of them birthdays of i saints, it was finally settled that it j should be observed on a given day of | the common calendar. Coming down j to the word itself, "Easter" is from *: the (Jerinan "Ostern" (rising.) The ] English name is probably derived j from "Eostrc" the Teutonic goddess of spring, whose festival occurred at about the same time as the Jewish "passover." The time for celebrating Easter was a subject which gave rise : to many heated discussions during the j early days of Christianity. The question was fully considered and finally 1 settled by the council of Nice, in the ; year .'525, by adopting the rule which makes Easter day the first Sunday after the first full moon after March 21, j By this arrangeinement of things Easter may come as early as March 22, oi as late as April 2o.?Republic. fl*#" When you lock your bed-room door at night, you should rcmcmhci . i, that there is something more imporj taut to lie locked out than intruder? , ) or burglars, and that is worry, i! i you leave all worry and care on the ; outside, nothing else could harm you , j Worry makes a bad bed-fellow. Eight . as hard against entertaining it as yoi . 2 would against admitting a burglar. |Hisccitancous Sailing: | DR. STOKES FAVORS A PRIMARY. "We Must Get to the People in the Primaries, and We Must Abide with the People when they have Spoken." To the Editor of The News and Courier : Your favor of 16th February is at hand and has had careful attention. I note that you desire to obtain from me an expression of my views "upon what course the conservative people of the State should take to bring about the unity and harmony of the party, which was so rudely broken by the unnatural course of events in the State two years ago." It affords me pleasure to comply nnrtiinof nnf nprlinnu "flS WILU JVU1 a'l|U?OV| iivv} JJV< fully as in my judgment the importance of the issues to he discussed may require," but as fully as the limited time at my disposal for this purpose will allow. This is a serious matter, regardless of the factional affiliation of him who I considers it from the standpoint of the patriot, and any sincere effort to avert the impending dangers is a highly patriotic effort, its projector a patriot of generous impulse, regardless of past or present affiliations. Permit me, at the outset, to make exception to the phraseology of the text you furnish me?not in any captious spirit?but solely to the end that investigation be not handicapped by any assumptions not clearly warranted in the premises. He who seeks a remedy rather than a mere palliative for any serious condition, must go deeper into the matter than a surface view of local manifestations. Causes must be discovered, the principles governing them must he established ; their relations to contiguous and even remote contemporaneous exents must be considered, and remedies must be predicated upon the findings in all these di recuoiis. The exception I make is to your use of the word "unnatural," as applied to the events of 1890. Whether viewed from the standpoint of political and social science, or of industrial and commercial development, they strike me as proceeding along well-defined lines of human nature at least, I as read in the individual and collective history of the race. In my judgment, then, it is a mistake to treat, or to attempt to treat, the manifestations of two years ago as j "unnatural," or as mere local phenomena, peculiar to South Carolina; and j any course predicated upon the assumption that they were either unnatural or merely local, will he futile. They were the resultant of forces long ago put into operation, and the plane of their activity has been as broad as the continent. They were the manifestation of a discontent long felt and growing among all laboring classes in city and in country, in field and in factory, in farm house and in shop. That discontent exists today, Mr. Editor, in your own city and in every city of the land, to an extent not less alarming than is that in the rural districts; and all that is lacking in city as in country, is leadership in front, ana a sympameiic press behind, to make it an irresistible power. These people, the land over, have long felt the pressure of an intangible, indefinable force bearing them down, down. In the face of unparalleled general prosperity and progress, they have been growing poorer and poorer. While laboring hard and harder from year to year, they have found it hard and harder to live, to educate their children and keep up even a show of respectability. Whether right or wrong, they have become i impressed that the hidden force they j feel is applied through manipulation of [ the financial system of the government | in the interest of a class, as well as in unequal taxation. Hence their simul- i taneous assault upon all the avenues ! to government?local, State and national. While not always rational in | the direction of their efforts, it must j be admitted that the effort itself is em- j inently natural. It is natural for them to wish to shift the burdens they feel to be inequitably imposed ; and it is natural for those who enjoy the benefits of manipulation and of unequal taxation to resist any interference. I think it not impertinent to remark in ! passing, that in my opinion this dis- | content is in no sense a fact to be de- I plored. On the contrary, it is a divine- | ly appointed safeguard to popular gov- I eminent. The painstaking statesman I recognizes it as a warning, a symptom j of disease; but many of our leaders of j public opinion are not painstaking, 1 and too often dismiss the matter (when pressed upon their attention) in a flip- , pant way?referring all evidence of 1 discontent to a desire on the part of ; improvident people to get more than they are entitled to. Upon the general causes I think there is almost universal agreement among our people of all classes. The majority of the people are impressed that there is something seriously wrong, and share in the discontent of j the farmers and laborers. This praci tical agreement upon the general conj ditions furnishes, in my judgment, the ; key to the situation, But superimj posed upon them arc various local ; questions, more or less remotely cou' nected with them, which give the I coloring peculiar to each State. In some sections there is an appalling ! gulf between poor and rich, and there ( the local manifestations are highly I alarming. Happily there exist no i uiwii nvtromcs of novertv and wealth iii our Stall*. Hut the tendency is i here, and its blighting effect upon the moral and industrial interests<el.sej where should lead all patriotic people , I to resist the tendency here, i In our own case, then, where sentiment as well as condition is eompara, i tively homogeneous along the lines of 1 local disturbance prevalent elsewhere, ; it should be easy to restore ' unity and harmony," whether "rudely broken" ! or not; whether broken by a natural j or "an unnatural course of events." In my judgment there is a way to I effect this, and that way leads direct to the people; a time-honored way, ; the Democratic way, suited to all con| ditions, local and general. A fair lield and a patient, respectful hearing for candidates representing every shade of opinion among us: fullest and freest discussion upon a high plane?calm, rational discussion ofis' sues rather than men; national issues upon which there is practical agreement?is the first step in the direction of unity and harmony. All discussion should be pitched upon a high plane, free from personal virtuperation and abuse. The man that leads off on any ' j personal or vituperative line should 1 be promptly sidetracked by all conser1 vative people, whatever their factional affiliation. The newspaper that prints such, whether as "news" or as editorial, or that misrepresents any indi1 vidual or faction, should be made to feel the displeasure of the conservaI tive people of all classes in a very emphatic way. A free ballot and a fair ' | count in the primaries?a count above the taint of suspicion; and then absolute acquiescence in the will of the i majority thus ascertained will, in my judgment, do the work?i. e., "restore unity and harmony among our peo> pie." Nothing short of this will eomf pass it. N'o individuals, nor eollecs tions of individuals, can do it. There is almost universal distrust of i \ what are designated as political metlii ods. The action of any delegated or | undelegated body beforehand would UU hUSptXICU VI TTUV-|/ui*.Wg "swapping" in the interest of some one and against some one, or of having a personal animus. This would be inevitable and unavoidable, however wisely and patriotically conducted. This distrust is the legitimate outcome of prevalent journalistic methods. Heretofore the press has been full of charges of political corruption, it is true; but the charges have been uniformly preferred against Republicans by Democrats, and against Democrats by Republicans. Lately there have been charges and counter charges of "deals" and of corrupt trades as frequently against Democrats by Democrats, and against Republicans by Republicans, as there have ever been vice versa?in the National and the State organizations. There have been threats of revolt from party supremacy in high circles, and in close sequence revolts have come, to our present confusion and possible undoing. For these reasons, and others too painfully familiar, nothing short of in Om nnd flh ill! VV VIIV J/W|/.v ? ? ? ? absolute acquiescence in their verdict, will avail in this case. We must get the question out of the hands of all leaders whomsoever, or howsoever constituted, and refer it down dispassionately, apart from personal ambitions and animosities, (or suspicion of such,) to the people for settlement. We must get to the people in the primaries, and we must abide with the people when they have spoken. Doubtless some few wise and patriotic men might shape a more consistent, a more logical, a more symmetrical settlement, but it could not stand because it would not have the people behind it. If there be any who will not submit their opinions to the arbitrament of the ballot in the primaries for the sake of "unity and harmony in the party," neither will they be conciliated by any concession, however or by whomsoever offered, short of full concurrence in their views. Now, Mr. Editor, these are my views. They are not new, perhaps, but they represent the conclusions I have reached after as careful consideration of the situation as. I have been able to give. J. Wm. Stokks. 1 it - / w/K CJ?..4l. Ufntri riTiSKlCllt SUllIlTj OUU11J vuiuiiiiauiuiv Fanners' Alliance, Orangeburg, February 20. REMINISCENCES OF BENCH AND BAR. Judge Frost was born and reared in the city of Charleston, and soon won a front rank among the great lawyers who practiced at the bar. Such men as Benjamin F. Hunt, Richard Yeadon, James Pettigru and many others were then in the zenith of their fame. The first court held by Judge Frost was at Chesterfield court house. He was emphatically a city judge, unfamiliar with country people, their customs and manners; knew nothing of the slang phrases that obtained among a rural population,'but an accomplished gentleman, a cultured scholar and a profound lawyer. In order to more fully appreciate this story I now intend relating, my readers must allow me to switch off on a side track, in order to bring before them one of the most unique characters the State ever produced, who gave his honor, Judge Frost, his first lesson in country slang. In the town of Cheraw there lived an old woman, who lived, no one knew how, with two boys. One of them named Steve?Steve Lang. 'Tis of him I write. At the time I write abofct, Steve was about 18 years old, but long before that time had won renown as a natural born wit and wag. His exploits were not always confined to the principles laid down in the moral code. His education was gathered around the slums and suburbs of the town from his associates. Under no circumstances was he abashed at uny conduct he was engaged in, however compromising it might be. His great passion from his early youth was rabbit hunting, and for this purpose he kept four or five long, lank, mangy curs that followed at his heels wherever he went. When about ten years of age, a pious Christian old lady went through the back streets of town drumming for Sunday school scholars. She called on old aunt Sally Lang and obtained her promise to send Steve next Sabbath morning to the Sunday school. Steve at first rebelled, but one grasp from her long, bony fingers in his shirt collar, one snatch across her lap and j the humming of a shingle for about five minutes, and Steve succumbed. Bright and early Sunday morning Steve put in his appearance at the church door. The good old lady met him and invited him in ; his faithful friends, his many curs, stopped outside. She carried Steve to a seat, and with a heart filled with zeal she began her first lesson that should rescue him from his wild career. She commenced reciting the Lord's prayer, Steve following. When about half way through, he heard a dog bark. His instincts overwhelmed him, and jumping from his scat, he exclaimed: "By G?d, Watch has jumped a rabbit. I must go," and out of the door he leaped with a whoop of encouragement to his dogs, , and thus ended Steve's religious training. He soon become a familiar character around the grog shops, and like Kansy I Sniffle in the Georgia Scenes, he was j always trying to get up a fight among the bullies who infested these haunts. He was always careful to keep out of a | light himself, believing that "prudence was the better part of valor." Hut on one occasion he became so officious, he had to run to keep from ; being chastised in a general melee he had worked up, in which some of the parties were badly cut up, and tbc reI suit was they were indicted and the case was entered on the criminal docket with Steve Lang as a witness. This brings me back to the first court Judge Frost had ever held. 10very member of the bar was well acquainted with Steve, and they all anticipat! ed a rich time when he was to be ex! amined. "State vs. Daniel McLean, assault ' with deadly weapon," cried out the solicitor, the first case Monday morning. "Call Stephen Lang." I'p walked Stephen, a long, lank individual, with ! both hands rammed down in his pockets and a sell-poised air that did not quail when he took his position by the judge, who sat in his black silk llowing robe, the very embodiment of justice. The judge cast his eye upon Steve, who never llinehcd, wrote his name down and prepared to take down his testimony. "Tell us," said the Solicitor "what f you know about this affray, Mr. Lang." "When they hitched bosses, I cut," promptly responded Mr. Lang. "Hitched bosses, cut," soliloquized the judge, looking at the witness for , an explanation. "I don't understand you, sir. Who did you cut?" A smile of contempt swept over . Steve's countenance at the judge's ; ignorance, and he replied : "I didn't cut nobody." "When they locked horns, 1 sloped." "Locked horns, sloped," again so' liloquized his honor. "I still don't understand you, sir," said the judge, his face reddening as he saw every ! member of the bar convulsed with laughter. "With another smile from Steve, almost audible, he said : "When they tangled, I toddled." The whole court house roared, with Steve above the rest, j "If you don't use a different vernae of court." Looking at the judge with a smile of benignity, Steve said: "Great God, judge, you are green. I don't know nothing about your vernacular, but if you want it in plain English, I run like hell." The judge broke down and lost his dignity by joining in the laugh, and Steve was allowed to tell his tale in bis own way.?Erceldoune, Red Spring Farmer. THE OSTRICH V CAPTIVITY. Ostriches are now regularly raised and fed, for the sake of their plumes, " A Aiiotenlin ond Ampripn hilt ill Alliwa^ au^iiuuu wum their feathers are not near so valuable as they used to be, and the care they require and the great losses among the birds, render them very uncertain property. On board ship they are particularly apt to be galled and injured by the vessel's motion, and either die at once or have to be killed. They are also very apt to suffer in traveling by the railroad, and the driving them, upon their own feet, is an endless worry and trouble. The slightest unusual thing, sometimes even the sight of a dog at a distance, will cause a flock to stampede, when some are lost and others break their legs. The legs of the ostrich are enormous, but the bone is very fragile, and seems sometimes as brittle as porcelain, so that a comparatively slight blow is enough to splinter it into just such jagged and pointed fragments as result from the breaking of china. As the bird is entirely unmanageable, they have to be killed. One very common cause of broken legs with ostriches is the curious habit these birds have of waltzing round, especially when they are put iu good spirits by being turned out of the enclosure in which they have been kept at night. Some of them seem to know how to reverse, like human waltzers, but many fall from mere giddiness, apparently, and frequently break their legs in doing so. Then they often fight savagely and give each other powerful kicks, which break the leg. Their kick is, indeed, ' -i ?ill l_ill ^ I tremendous, ana win nuu kiu u suuh^ man, if he receives the full force. As they have very little sense?much less intelligence than a common fowl, indeed?they will go off in the most foolish panics at the slightest thing. In fact, ostriches have about the smallest brains of any living creature of their size, as can easily be seen by noticing the very small head, which is very flat and depressed above the eyes. Although ostriches sometimes lay as many as twenty eggs, and the pair take turns in sitting upon them, a great many persons who raise birds hatch a good portion of the eggs in incubators, which takes six weeks. A very young ostrich chick is quite pretty, and they are very comical in their movements. But they soon get angular and awkward, and continue so for two or three years. During two years the sexes cannot be distinguished, and the plumage is coarse, rough, and of a dirty drab, mixed with black. At five years the bird is full grown, and the male is then of a glossy black and the female gray, both having white wings and tail. In each wing are twenty-four long white feathers, which are the valuable ones. The ostrich's body is very bony and lean, the bare thighs being the only fleshy part. On this the ostrich farmers brand their marks, like cattle raisers brand their animals. The meat of the thigh is good, but rather stringy and tough, but makes excellent soup, for which it is used n 1 4_:_u c?,?i,n ?r? Very OIlCli uy umiiuu laiuino niiv uiv obliged to kill one of the birds. One ostrich egg is equal in quantity of contents to about twenty-four hens' eggs, and it is quite as delicate and useful for most household purposes, but the birds themselves are too valuable for many eggs to be used for eating by their owners. A number of ostriches are killed on the farms of the breeders, by collision with the wire fences, by means of which great portions of land are enclosed. They often charge into the wires after some dog, or other supposed enemy on the outside, and injure themselves fatally. This often happens when the dog is merely passing and is taking no notice of the bird. Ostriches swallow all sorts of hard things, which gives rise to the saying, I "the digestion of an ostrich," but they I take them, just as a small bird takes grains of sand, to enable the gizzard to | grind up the food. In their crops are I found bones, broken china and glass I and pieces of iron, as well as stones. They have been known, on ostricn j farms, to take the lighted pipe from a J man's mouth and swallow it, and other j things as curious and unlikely. Their I action, in doing so, is as quick as lightning. They are attracted by anything which glitters, and often pick up such things, carelessly left about, particularly jewelry. A lady sometimes has her ear-ring snatched at while leaning over a fence looking at the ostriches, and a story is told of a gentleman who was inspecting the birds in an inclosure, and who wore a diamond pin in his scarf. A bird spied the stone, his bill came like ' a shot and the diamond was swallowj ed. Then a consultation was held as I to the relative value of the stone and | the bird?which was a fine one. It was | just at the time when ostriches were j very valuable, and as the bird was | valued at $o()0, and the diamond was i only worth $400 the bird was allowed ; to live. Now ostriches are a good deal cheaper, and the life of the robber would be sacrificed at once for his audacity in adding such a valuable stone to the collection in his crop. | Ostriches have been in captivity so short a time that it is not known how j long they live. They are certaiuly j very long-lived; and, strange to say, ! the oldest of which any knowledge is j had yield as handsome feathers as any. This is a very singular fact, and goes I to prove the longevity of the birds, if j no accident happens to them. Those j which are in captivity die by accident. Tjik Figikk Nixk.?For one bun ! anil ton yours to come, no man, wo; man or child will write the current | date without using the figure 9. For i nineteen years during that period two j S)s must he written?in 1899, 1909, 11)19, j 1929, 19119, 1949, 1959, 1909, 1979, ; 19S9, 1990, 1991, 1992, 1993, 1994, j 1995, 199(5, 1997, 1998; and for one 1 year 1999 three 9s will have to he set down. Of the people now living, it is I safe to say that no one will ever write i a date of his or her own time without j using a 9. Besides minding their p's i and q's, the next three generations must give particular heed to their 9s. ; Nine has never been regarded as a j particularly lucky number, but beyond 1 question the years in which it will I hold so conspicuous a place will bring j benefits of undreamed value to the . world.?New York Tribune. I An Kxi'Kkimkxtal Hi'ccanekr.? ' Washington Irving, in his early life, I had a longing to go to sea and to be a j pirate. He determined to make the j attempt, but wisely decided to prepare | himself for it by preliminary experiences. He began by eating salt pork, j That made him sick. He then slept I for a night or so on hard boards, j That made him sore. It was enough. ! Other boys who want to capture menof-war, or who desire to go West and scalp Indians, would do well to imitate young Irving's example.?Baltimore American. Considerable interest is taken in the origin of familiar sayings and proverbs, many of which are incorrectly attributed to this source or that. The phrase "castles in the air," for example, has been attributed to Sir Philip Sidney, Swift, Fielding, Churchill and Sheustone. It was first used more than two hundred and fifty years ago by Robert Burton in his "Anatomy of Melancholy." "Conspicuous by his absence," an expression of considerable force, came into prominence after having been used by Lord John Russell in an address to the electors of London. He was afterward candid enough to admit that it was not an original expression with him, but taken from one of the historians of antiquity. His confession led to classical research, and the expression was found in the "Annals" of Tacitus. From this authority we also have "God always favors the heaviest battalions," an expression afterwards used by Terence, Voltaire and Sevigne. "A bee in his bonnet" is no doubt of Scotch origin. "There is a maggot in his head" is an equivalent Expression in England. A writer claims that the poet Herrick originated the expression in one of his lyrics. After a careful examination of -1? '?"?? non tut fnnnH tn flllH IUC lailCl UVDUlUg vwu WW ww??. ?w www stantiate the claim. The expression, "All the world's a stage," though attributed to Shakspeare, is found in the Latin of Juvenal. An old Grecian author says : "Greece is a theatre where all are players." Not a few frequently quoted expressions are inaccurate, and have lost their epigrammatic force. For instance:? "A man convinced against his will Is of the same opinion still," Is attributed to Butler. That author never penned such a blundering couplet, for how can we convince a man against his will ? What Butler wrote was:? "He that complies against his will Is of his own opinion still." Walpole, the prime minister of the Georges, is misquoted in the expression, "All men have their price." He never said so, and entertained no such narrow views of mankind. He was referring to certain persons and said: "All these men have their price." "Money is the root of all evil" is another misquoted quotation, and a wide deviation from the truth. "The love of money is the root of all evil" is the correct quotation. "Love me little, love me long," originated with Christopher Marlowe, in his "Jews of Malta." "Consistency is a jewel," is one of a number of expressions, "like express packages without their manifests," to which authorship has never been traced. The line, "Though lost to sight, to memory dear," has neverbefen placed, in spite of the most persistent research. It was no doubt the title of a ballad, or a pleasing line in it, but the name of the author remains un known. It has been stated that it was found engraved upon a bracelet fashioned in the seventeenth century. "To make assurance doubly sure" is taken from Shakspeare's "Macbeth," Act IV., Scene I:? "And yet I'll make assurance double sure, And take a bond of fate." The following familiar quotations originated with Scott: "The vain tribute of a smile;" "Unwept, unhonored and unsung;" "To beard the lion in his den;" "A sea of upturned faces;" "There's a gude time coming." A DOG CURES ITSELF OF FITS. "Dash Rice" is an aged liver and white pointer, the pet and friend of the household. Age and lack of exercise, with a too liberal diet, have given him a tendency to daily fits. So regular is this habit that callers frequently ask him, "Well, have you had your fit today ?" If he has he answers by ^ a wag of the tail and lin animated countenance ; if not he droops his tail and sneaks off to his rug with a distinct manifestation of disapproval of such questioning. A year or more ago he indicated a fancy for wooden tooth picks, and at meal times would hang about the table until he received one. Some one, for fun, once gave him a burned match for a toothpick and he accepted it graciously. A little later an unburned match was substituted, and this he accepted and: devoured with especial satisfaction. It was so funny to see a dog eat matches that it soon became the custom for Dash to have one after every meal, and now he insists on his supply. If it is not forthcoming he sits by the stand where the matches are kept and patiently "points" until he is attended to. If too long neglected he puts up his paw, overturns the match box and helps himself. But he never takes but one and never asks for it except at meals. The strangest part of his history is, however, that his self conceived prescription of sulphur and phosphorous has entirely cured him of his daily fits, and he has not had one for many weeks. His master is a physician, and it is a question for those who are interested in animal psychology to consider how Dash evolved so successful a course of treatment from his doggish consciousness and his medical environment.? Boston Herald. 8oT Dr. J. C. Hiden, in The Religious Herald, tells a good story of Dr. W. F. Broadus. A brother, somewhat tinctured with rationalism, was asking his opinion as to the historical literalness of the Biblical account of the Garden of Eden. "Well, Dr. Broadus," said the brother, "you do not hold the view of a real garden, do you ?" "Yes, I do," was the reply. "And do you believe in a real tree and in real fruit?" "Certainly I do. Don't you?" "Why, no; I believe the story is an allegory." "I cannot think so," said Dr. Broadus, for if I give up the tree and then admit that the fruit and garden were allegorical, it will not be long before somebody will come along and call upon me to admit that the man was allegorical, and I can't afford to give up my man." The Value of Greenbacks.?In 1862, when the greenbacks first went * i t?% irnl/l fnr 1IUO Circulation, men J'l IW ?,viv* the entire year averaged about 88.3 on the dollar, their highest being 98.5 and their lowest 75.G. In 1863 they ranged from 62.3 to 79.5, in 1864 from 38.7 to 67.3. The year 1864, which was the darkest period of the war, saw the government currency at its lowest value and gold at its greatest premium. After the war, of course, greenhacks increased in value, although with some fluctuations. At the beginning of 1879, when specie payments were formally resumed, greenbacks went to par with gold, and have remained there ever since.?St. Louis Globe-Democratic. Historic Appomattox.?Appomattox county, Ya., which has become historic through the surrender of Lee's army to Grant, is something less than 100 miles west of Richmond. Its western boundry is the James river, and I it adjoins Campbell county, in which I Lynchburg is. It is named after the . Appomattox Indians, a tribe or lodge subject to Powhattan. One of the few I facts recorded about the Appomattox 1 T _ t Indians is that their queen served joihi Smith with water in which to wash his i hands on one oeasion when that advenI turous English was brought into the presence of I'owhuttan.?St. Louis Republic. i ! We are all the time makingchar { aeter, whether we are doing anything I else or not.