Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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Dreaming. U» V**, Heart, and dream oi tender things, In tender ways. Dream back again to all the vanished springs. 4 The yesterdays, When Lots wa.ked with us, hiding close his wings From lovers’ gaze. Forget, in dreams, that Ix>v e is lost to sight, And we alone Are watching where it paled—that vision bright, Once all our own. Dream on, my Heart; remember not tonight All thou hast known. For oh, sad Heart, the dream will soon have sped; ’Tis fading fast. The Love we love in dreams will soon be fled Back to the Past: And thou wilt ask with tears, when Hope is dead, “Was this the lasl?” —Grace H. Dunfteld in Independent. A Water-Color Sketch. BY S. BOtLEAU. A prosperous, long-worded, long- winded, purse-proud, elderly gentleman was Mr. Theodore W. Shelton. Fate iiad not only shuffled his cards, but had also provided him with a handful of trumps that could not fail to win, were they ever so badly played. Mr. Shelton, however, was the possessor of some skill, backed by common sense, and at the age of five-and-fifty was prepared to rise the winner of close upon a million of dollars. During the McAllister sea son he resided in a stylish house on Fifth Ave. facing Central Park, and when the Four Hundred abandoned Gotham, he repaired to a lordly dwelling place on the Tarry town bank of the Hudson, hav ing for immediate neighbors Jay Gould, William Benthan, and other magnates in the whirligig world of Finance. Jennie, the sole daughcr and heiress of the house of Shelton, was a tall, earnest-eyed, golden-haired, slim girl of sweet seventeen at the hour upon which this eventful story opens. Arrayed in white muslin puritanically plain, and bare-headed, beneath the shade of a gi gantic crimson tent-umbrella, she is en gaged in making a sketch in water-color of “a glimpse of the Hudson,” as paint ers love to call those fetching little peeps at the glorious river, and was pro ceeding with great flourish of brush to produce a rather spiritless daub, when a light cough from behind startled her, causing her to look up. A tall, good-looking young fellow, in heap, ill-fitting suit of blue flannel, a last summer’s straw hat, stood ing at the dravrtng. a smile half con- tuous. Tio'f in pity upon his su- [y Chiselled and firm mouth, i. Shelton resented this smil* and a flame of anger leaped up in her heart. 44 I beg your pardon,” she coldly said; “do you want to speak to me?’’ “Well, no—thanks”—the young gen tleman slowly replied, his eyes still scru tinizing the drawing; “unless,”he add ed, “you would permit me to suggest some alterations in that sketch. ” “Thanks!” she loftily retorted. “I receive all the suggestions I need from my drawing-master,” and she haughtily turned from him to continue her work. The young man still lingered, how- lever, and after a little, exclaimed: “You are all wrong. Your perspec- ‘tive is—” ‘‘I wish you would go away, sir,” said Miss Shelton, starting to her feet and facing him. This spoiled, over- petted child had never before been spoken to save in terms of adulation. ‘‘Who are you?” she added, almost fiercely, her face and neck crimson, “I am Tom Hale, a clerk in your fath er’s employment. I have come up from New York with an important letter and am waiting for an answer." “Then go and wait in the servant’s hall,” and the girl, snatching up her sketch, strode rapidly across the velvet sward, disappearing into the house. ‘•What a furious fairy! and how love ly! I have, as usual, put my foot in it. Well, what have I lost? Nothing. I have never been here beforehand never shall be here again. And yet, hang it! am sorry to have angered her; but her drawing is simply vile. Here’s the Ty coon.” MiT Shelton whistled to his clerk as he would to his dog, and, after impart ing his instructions, departed with a curt “good day.” As Hale reached the lodge he heard the rvstle of female drapery, and almost ere he could turn around, an exceed ingly dapper young lady palpitated: “Please, sir, Miss Shelton begs your pardon for her rudeness. She told me to tell you this.” “Say to her,” taid Tom, “that I was rude, and ill-bred, and an ass,” casting his eyes, as he spoke, in the direc tion of the house in the faint hope of catching a glimpse of the repentant heiress. “Also tell Miss Shelton that I will make a diawing of the same bit of the river, and send it to her. She can burn it if she likes, but I'll send it.” Tom Hale was the son of Matthew- Hale, the wealthy sugar merchant, whose partner, Jonas Pbillimore, went secretly (into the Street, “plunged,” and was lost," dragging Hale's coin and credit into the all-devouring maelstrom. 'Matthew Hale became morose, misan thropic and morbid His friends inces sant .y, ruthlessly insulted, dropped him, and he died railing against his kind. Tom, who had entered Yale before the wreck of his father’s fortunes, was offered, when the cyclone struck the firm, berths in the counting-houses of several of his father’s intimates; but the old rn»n would accept no favor for his son, and the latter, after aimlessly drift ing for a couple of years, obtained a po sition at Theodore Shelton’s—a paltry fifteen dollars a week situation, with lit tle or no hope of improved prospects. Tom. bad no talent for anything except sketching, and being a lazy fellow, he never set himself to work to make this talent- financially beneficial. He had a soul for color, and would lie on his back for hours reveling in the glory of a sky, an ocean, or a landscape. Tom was honest, outspoken, fearless, and up to this bright May morning heart-whole. One never knows when the rosy archer’s arrow will strike. Five years! Oh, the magic that may be wrought by five long years! A tall, bearded, sun-burned, distinguished- looking man sat in Delmcnico’s cafe, smoking, and interrogating a short, dapper, pudgy individual. “Five years in Peru, Tom; 1 can hardly realize it. Why, it was only yesterday that you came in and said, ‘E1, I’m sick of desk work; I’m going to get a living out of this;’ and you showed me a sketch of a bit of the Hudson that you were going to send to some girl—you didn’t men tion her name, you sly dog.” “HI mention it now, EJ,” said Tom Hale, g»vely. “I was about sending that drawing to Miss Shelton. I—I suppose, that is—I hope she got mar ried—well married, before her father became bankrupt.” And he leaned for ward, a strange, wistful look in his honest blue eyes. “I don’t know what became of her. I know that she was single at the time of the bust-up. Gracious! wasn’t it a fizzle! Twist and Higgle« got the old man into a regular skin company, and the deeper he got the deeper he had to plunge—everything went. It was a sil ver or gold mine in Mexico, and Theo dore Shelton wasn’t left a dollar; not a so itary, straggling dollar.” “And Miss Shelton?” “Nobody pitied either of them. He wanted to own the earth and everything on it. As for the girl, she—” “Not a word disrespectful of her Ed! Where are they? Is she with him? Where is he? How can I find them out ? ” “Oh, hang it all, he wasn’t so nice to you that' you need trouble about him. Tell me about yourself. Why, we were all paralyzed when your father’s lose partner turned up and made restitution. Honor bright! how much did he really put up? ’ Was it a million? Yes, Mr. Phillimore had fled to Peru, where he engaged in speculation. For tune, as if to make up-dor hej: cruel treatment in Wall street, smiled upon him at Lima, and almost at a stroke en abled him to make good the losses of Matthew Hale to h ; s son Tom, to whom he handed over his entire business. In addition, when dying, he willed every dollar in his possession “to the boy of the man I murdered ”—so ran the words of the legal instrument. Tom Hale, by dint of hard and very earnest work, discovered that Theodore Shelton w-as living in a small flat in Brooklyn, supj-orted by his daughter, who was employed in the capacity of daily governess in a family in New York. Little did that tall, beautiful girl, neatly but poorly attired, imagine as she stepped into the Bridge cars, that a pair of anxious eyes were fastened upon her, or that the heart of the owner was beat ing fast. THE LLAMA The Horse’s Substitute Among Dwellers in the Andes. He is a Faithful Beast, But Re sents Being Overloaded. way. The disease is known ms “sir- roc he'’ and sometimes is fatal. The natives, having been born and bred at this great elevation, are no more affected by the rarity of the atmosphere than the negroes of the Brazilian swamps are by the heat. “This is too much happiness,” said Jennie Shelton, bursting into tears after she had read an honest, manly letter from Tom, delicately offering her father a s-inecuro position. For the reply to his letter, Tom Hale waited with a burning impatience. The answer came at last, a few sweet, girlish words of gratitude, and oh, joy! rap ture! the identical sketch which he had ventured in his open, honest way to criticise. On the back was written: “To Thomas Hale. May God bless you. Jennie Shelton.” Th s all occurred last Easter. If you join the brilliant throng promenading Fifth avenue to-morrow you will meet Mr. and Mrs. Tom Hale. If you choose to follow them, they will enter a large bay-windowed mansion on Murray Hill. And if you will walk upstairs to Mrs. Hale's boudoir, you will behold in a gorgeous frame, a water-color sketch of a glimpse of the River Hudson.—Once A Week. Indian Palkl Bearers. Before railroads were built in India, the ordinary mode of rapid traveling was by the palki, which was borne on the shou ders of four natives. The speed and endurance of the professional palki bearers are really remarkable. An English traveler of only a few years ago thus describes a journey which he made in Bengal: “By half-past four in the afternoon I was at the entrance of the Patna bazaar, nine miles in length, and thirty-three miles from Barh. Thus they had brought me at an average rate of over four miles an hour, including a stoppage of over half an hour for their mid-day meat It is true I was a light weight; but I once, with a friend, tried to carry an empty palki, and found it so galling to the shoulder that I could not get beyond a few yards, while these men, who lived on little else than rice, could carry a loaded one over forty miles, at the rate mentioned above.” To reach La Paz, the former seat of government and capital of Bolivia, says William E. Curtis in Youth's Companion, one must cross Lake Titicaca, that strange and bottomless sheet of water, one of whose islands was the legendary Eden of the Incas, and around whose shores cluster the prehistoric cities which the brutal Spaniards destroyed. On this lake there is a steamer, at any rate that is what the people call it, although it would amuse a North American ship wright, and usually excites a nervous apprehension in the minds of timid trav elers. If one does not care to board this unique craft, or if he wishes to depart from the regular route of travel and make a cruise among the ruined cities of the Incas, he can hire what is called a balsa, a curious combination of raft, flat-boat and cataraaran, which is pro pelled by a larg j sail made of skins anl by long poles. Reaching the southern point of the lake the rest of the journey, wherever one may be going, must be made on mule-back along the ancient highway of the Incas, which was constructed cen turies before the conquest, and is, per haps, the’ most remarkable of the many remains of that remarkable race. The Spaniards have not repaired it sin<S; they have had control of the country, more than 350 years, but it is still in a pretty good state of preservation, and is continually trodden by parties of travel ers, batallions of troops, and droves of llamas, often thousands in numbei,laden with the products of the forests and mines of Bolivia. As the camel is to the people of the deserts of Asia and Africa, so is the llama to those who dwell in the Andes, a faithful, patient and enduring beast, without which the inhabitants would be utterly helpless, for mules and horses can neither survive the climate nor climb the mountain trails. But the llamas one secs in Bolivia are as much unlike the animals shown in the zoological gardens, as the tiger in the jungles of India is unlike his name sake that growls and yawns in a circus cage. Their bodies are covered with a soft, thick gray wool like that of the merino sheep, their giraffe-like necks are proudly and gracefully curved, their eyes are large, lustrous, intelligent, and have an expression of constant inquiry. American clock; an^ although this par- Their care are-- sh'ajpelyr^h-quivcr-eoa^ tinually like those of a high-mettled stallion, as if to catch the first sound of approaching danger. He carries his load of one hundred pounds of ore, or coca, or cinchona, or other merchandise up and down the pre cipitous pathways where no other beast of burden can go, and whese it is diffi cult for man to follow. But when he is overloaded he resents it, and lies down. No amount of coaxing, or bullying, or beating can get him to his feet until the surplus is removed from his back, when he rises solemnly and marches off with his load. He will carry a hundred pounds but no more, and his cargo is packed in sacks or panniers, one-half on either side. Therefore, all freight sub ject to this mode of transportation must be packed accordingly, and limited to packages of fifty pounds. When frightened, llamas always clus ter in groups, with their tails together and their heads out to meet the enemy, and thejr only weapon of defence is their saliva, which, when angry, they squirt through their teeth in showers as a Chinese laundryman sprinkles his clothes. A drop of this saliva, falling in the ear, or eye, or mouth, or on any part of the body where the skin is broken, will instantly produce a most painful irrita tion, and often dangerous sores, like the venom of a serpent. The llama drivers keep away from the heads of their an- mals as carefully as a colored man from the heels of a mule. When they lie down they fold their long, slender legs under them in some mysterious manner, and chew their cud with an air of abstract contemplation and absolute content. The kids afford excellent food, but the bodies of the old llamas are masses of muscle, tendon and gristle -that are tough and rank. They live to a great age, subsist upon almost anything in the shape of food and have as powerful di gestive apparatus as a goat or an ostrich. The droves of llamas are followed by queerly clad natives, who utter a singu lar sort of a whistle which the animals seem to understand and obey. One driver is usually sufficient for a hundred or so, for they need no more attention than sheep, and travel night and day till they reach their destination, when they are released from their burdens and turned into corrals. In these elevated regions, as I have said, it is difficult for etiher horses or mules to exist, the air being too thin for them*. Horses are seldom seen, and mules are kept only for the accommoda tion of travellers and thsir nostrils arc split so as to make it easier for them to breathe. When a horse is brought into the high altitudes of the Andes the blood starts from his mouth, ears and nose, and men are often affected in the same Extermination ef the Buffalo. At the present time, outside of the National Park, where about two hun dred and sixty buffaloes are now har bored, there are not over three hundred, probably not as many, left in the United Sta'es. The survivors of this magnificent race of animals arc scattered in little bunches in several localities. There are about one hundred in Montana, or at least there were a year ago, some at the head of Dry Creek and the remainder at the head of Porcupine Creek. In Wyoming there arc a few stragglers from the National Park, which, when chased, run back there for protection. In the mountains of Colorado last summer there were two bunches of mountain bison, one of twenty-five head and the other of eleven. These have probably been killed. There are none in Da kota, though 18 months ago 30 were known to be there. It was estimated in 1887 that there were 27 in Nebraska, and about 50 more scattered in the Western part of the Indian Territory and Kansas. Those in Nebraska have since been killed by the Sioux. Of the thousands that once inhabited Texas, only two small bunches remain. Thir ty-two heal are near the Batons, in the northwestern part of the Panhan dle, and eight in the sand-hills on the Staked Plains north of the Pecos River. These were seen and counted on the 1st of April of last year. This estimate of the remnant of a great race is believed to be essentially correct. It was obtained from reliable and well- informed persons throughout the West, and in put from personal observation during the past years.—Harper's Maga zine. America In Asia. “After long and diligent search in a queer, dark, second-hand booth kept by a swarthy Mongol, I was rewarded by the discovery of a product of American genius that partly satisfied my patriotism and served as a tangible proof that New England marks the time to which all humanity keeps step. It was an old second-hand clock made in Providence, Rhode Island, the battered and some what grimy face of which still borQ in capital letters the characteristic Ameri can legend, ‘Thirty Hour Joker.’ Mon golia might know nothing of American literature or of American magazines, but it had made the acquaintance of the THE CZAR’S ARMY. A Grand Sight at burg. St Peters- Armed Men Reviewed By Emperor. the n ha<) lost its' hands, its ‘Thirty Hour Joker’ w'as a sufficiently pointed allusion to the national characteristic to satisfy the "most ardent patriotism. An American joker does not need hauls to point out thet merits of his jokes, and this mutilated New England clock, with its empty key-hole eyes and its battere J but still humorous visage, seemed to leer at me out of the darkness of that queer ‘ old second-hand shop a» if to say, ‘You may come to Siberia, you may explore Mongolia, but you can’t get away from the American joker.’ I >vas a little dis appointed not to fiijd in this bazar some representative masterpiece of American literature, but I was more than satisfied a short time afterward when I dis covered in a still wilder and more re mote pari of the Trans-Baikal a copy of Mark Twain’s ‘Life on the Mississippi’ and a Russian translation of Bret II trie’s ‘‘Luck of Roaring Camp.’ ” If you wish to see military Russia in all its glory and epic luxury you must take your place in the first days of April on one of those tribunes which rise at the extremity of the Champ de Mars on on both sides of the imperial pavilion. Society meets there to assist at the grand spring review. All the Guard is massed before us—20,000 men at least, and per haps more. Other states may pride themselves on a military force equivalent to this, but none can show a force so magnificent and picturesque in aspect. All the races and all the arms of this varied empire are about to defile before our eyes, from those noble Chevalier Guards, who seem to have been resusci tated from the romantic Middle Ages, down to the Kirgheez of the Asiatic steppe, who are still pagans. “Attention!” Thousands of voices have transmitted the same word of com mand. “The Emperor 1” He appears yonder at the corner of the .Camp de Mars. The moment he has seen all the flags flutter, all the bands join in -one formidable chorus to send heavenward the sounds of the national hymn, ‘‘God save the Czar. ” The Emperor arrives at a gentle gallop. Behind him follows an escort which makes many hearts beat amongst the fair public of the tribunes. It is a gathering of the most illustnous names and the finest horsemen of the Russian nobility. All the armies of the world have contributed to form this staff. The Hungarian magnate rides side by side with the Japanise military at tache, the French kepi salutes the fez of the Mussulman bey. The Master passes along the front of his troops; the. Empress follows in an open barouche. At the approach of their Majesties the band of each regiment resumes the hymn with wild fury—a hurricane of harmony, which accompanies and en velopes the imperial procession. The traditional salutations are exchanged be tween the Czar and his soldiers: “Good- day, children.” “We are happy to do well for your Imperial Majesty.” The sovereign stops before the trib- fireplace, and it is a crime to permit the fire to go out. They use hard wood that burns very slowly, and their aim is to keep a good bed of coals on which the wood bums without bursting into flame. Dr. Finsch asked the natives if they never lost their fire. He was told that such a calamity had occurred, and that they would never have had fire again^ if it had not been for a very fortunate cir cumstance. They know a tribe in the mountains away from the sea who pos sess the art of making fire, which they guard as a secret. One time the people were compelled to go to these firemakers for the spark that would rekindle the dead embers in their huts. They car rel the fire for many miles. They were determined never again to be reduced to this necessity, though it made them feel very comfcrtable to think that they knew where they could get fresh fire if they lost their own. It is to be presumed that these simple- minded natives have now ceased to guard the smouldering embers in their huts with such jealous care. A white man has been among them, one of the sort who brings blessings instead of .evils in his train, and they know now that even if they never see a white man and the wonderful little fire sticks he carried with him again, they can, with the aid of friction and tinder, be their own fire- makers. An Abnsed Image of Washington. Syphcr, the New York dealer in art relics, curios, etc., has in his establish ment a wooden statue of George Wash ington with a history. The statue was set up at the Battery in 1794 and there it stood for 40 years or more until it got badly battered and became an eyesore to artists and art lovers. It was then put up at auction by the city, and the city got soundly berated for the indignity. A French dealer in relics named Jacques bought the figure on speculation for $250 and failing to realize upon it stowed it away in the attic of his country-house at South Norwalk, Conn. M. Jacques died in 1863 and at the sub sequent sale of his effects the wooden George fell into the hands of a Yankee curiosity hunter, who paid a mere trifle for it and sold it at a considerable ad vance to one Frederick J. Theobald, who placed it in front of a modest es tablishment in Harlem, which was henceforth known as the “Washington The Boses by the Boa. The roses and the clover Are very sweet and fair. And I love the fragrant odors They breathe upon the air; But riie sweet2r seemed the blossoms Beside the meadow ran. The time that you were twenty. And I was twenty-one. How fondly I remember The time we called them there, - And ’ neeth the shady maplee I wove them in your hair; How there in bliss we tarried Until the set of sun. The time that you were twenty. And I was twenty-one. It may have been the flowers, Or a look benign and free, That bade me whisper softly How dear you were to me; I never stopped to question, I only know ’twas done, The time that you were twenty And I was twenty-one. We’ve had our summer, darling. The fields of life arj'brown. We’ve traveled up the hillside, We’re on our journey down; Yet oft I wake from dreaming Those days have just begun. That you again are twenty And I am twenty-one. When life and love are over, And I am laid at rest, I hope some one will gather. And place upon my breast. Such flowers as used to bloesom Beside the meadow run, The time that you were twenty, And I was twenty-one. —Merchant Traveller. HUMOROUS. une of the Grand-Duchesses; he gives ! Cigar Store.” Every 221 of February the signal, and the march past begins. At the head are the platoons of the Asi atic escort, eastern and wild Russia, Mussulmans from Khiva and Bokhara, Georgian princes, Tcherkesses, Persians, Mongols and Caucasians. These primi tive warriors, armed with lances and steel maces, wear long coats of mail and 4th of July Mr. Theobald religiously decorated the statue with flags. One day, not very long ago, Mr. Sypher heard of the ignoble use to which the father of his country was put and opened negotiations which resulted in his get ting possession of the same. The figure is 8 feet IQ inches high, and is a credit over tfcefr ""aI&&~£ork of its kind. Washington "VT frugal of Silent Men. William the Silent was words, because a reserve that coucealed his designs, even from those acting with him, was necessary to the indepeudenee of the Netherlands. A writer in Leisure Hour says that the most dramatic of silent men was Wall enstein, the antagonist of Gustavus Adolphus, and the commander of the Emperor’s armies in the Thirty Years War. He insisted that the deepest si lence should reign about him. His of ficers took care that no loud conversa tion should disturb their General. They knew that a chamberlain had been hang ed for waking him without orders, and that an officer who would wear clanking spurs in the commander’s presence had been secretly put to death. In the rooms of his palace the servants glided as if phantoms, and a dozen sen tinels moved around his tent charged to secure the silence the General demanded. Chains were stretched across the street in order to guard him against the disturb ance of sound. Wallenstein’s taciturnity, which made him shun speech, and his love of silence that caused him to be irritated at the slightest noise, were due to his constitu tional temperament. He never smiled, he never aske l advice from any one, and he could not endure to be gazed at,even when giving an order. The soldiers, when he crossed the camp, pretended not to see him, knowing that a curious look would bring them punishment. great price, damascened helmets or Tar tar caps. This is the vanguard of the hordes of Attila, the concession made in the regular army to legend and fancy. Then come the compact masses of the regular army, the infantry first of all— Proebrajeasky, Finland Chasseurs, and soldiers of the Paul Regiment, with their large copper hats in the form of mitres—such as were worn by the Grana- diers of Frederick the Great. In ac cordance with an old tradition, all men who have flat noses are recruited for this regiment. The lines of cavalry follow the infantrj like living walls of brass add steel. Then come the light troops —Red Hussars,. Grenadiers, and Lan cers; and finally swarms of Cossacks, galloping on their little ponies, sweep along from the extremi ty of the Champ de Mars at full speed, stop and turn short at the foot of the imperial tribune. These troops perform the exercises of the Arab fantasia—lie down on their saddles, lean over to the ground wrthout quit ting their stirrups, and pick up the lance or‘pistol that they have thrown down before them. The artillery closes the march. The batteries, admirably horsed, are carried along at full speed by black chargers as* fine as the finest trotters. As the last cannons disappear, rattling over the pavement behind the trees of the Summer Garden, the court and its guests go to breakfast in the palace of the Princes of Oldenburg, which faces the Champ de Mars; and the foreigner who follows the Emperor—his eyes still full of this heroic vision—wonders how a man can resist the intoxication of such power gathered in his hand and the temptation which must come upon him to let loose this superb force against the world.—Harper's Magaz ne. Thank/ul^/or One Thing. “You’re looking bad, Bromley.’* “Yes. Been up every night for a week with the baby.” “You wi ihed him at the bottom oi the Dead Sea many a time, I suspect?” “Why, no. I ain’t so brutal as that. But I was very thankful he v.asn’t twins.”—Epoch. Savages Who Cannot Produce Fire. It is not often that explorers discover savage people who are ignorant of the art of producing fire. As far as is known, fire has been a necessity even among the rudest savages for many cen turies, and it always excites wonder when we hear at rare intervals of people who, while enjoying the blessings of fire, express themselves as wholly ignor ant of the methods of producing it, and who imagine that if by some ca amity all their fires were extinguished they could never rekindle them. Such a tribe has recently been met by Dr. Finsch during his travels in New Guinea. He says the people in the large villages that are buried in the forests © along the shores of Astrolabe Bay know of no means by which they can produce fire. . It is therefore a duty devolving upon every member of the community to aid in preserving fire. All their cooking is done outside their huts in the open air, but in the centre of each hut is a represented as standing in- an easy pos ture, holding a chapeau at his hip. The Continental costume consists of a bluish- black coat, white waistcoat, buff breeches and top boots. The old-fash ioned fob is in its proper place, and the expression of the face is benignant.— New Orleans Picayune. A Mosque lu the Sahara Desert. A discovery of much archaeological interest was recently made in the Al gerian Sahara. M. Tarry, who has been carrying on work in connection with the proposed Trans-Sahara railroad,hav- ing noticed a mound of sand in the neighborhood of Wargal, had the saud dug up, and discovered the top of a dome. This naturally aroused his in terest, and getting his Arabs to dig still deeper, he found underneath the dome a square tower, then a. platform of ma sonry, and finally a complete mosque. Continuing the excavations, M. Tarry soon unearthed seven houses in perfect preservation, and came upon a subterra nean watercourse. At the last news nine houses had been disinterred, and M. Tarry was getting additional assistance to clear out the precious watercourse, which he describes as sufficient to irri gate a small forest of palms. It is well known that the Sahara was at one time much more populated than it is now, and its trade much more extensive, but no one seems to have supposed that cities had been buried under its sands, at least so recently as since the intro duction of Mohammedanism. Cure for Whooping-Cough. The life of many a child is sacrificed to the popular conclusion that' whoop ing-cough must run its course. The deaths from this disease are as 1 to 82 of the entire mortality of B ;ston, 1 to 95 in Baltimore, 1 to 64 in New York. According to experiments by doctors of the highest authority, this disorder is declared to be the direct result of the fungus growth, and in cases where quinine is administered patients speedily recover. For a child mix two to five grains of powdered quinine in two ounce's of sugar, add a little water and boil until the sugar is all dissolved and forms a thick syrup. Give one tea spoonful of the syrup after each cough ing spell and before going to bed. Quinine in pill form or in gelatine is no use whatever, as it needs to come in di rect contact with the fungus in the throat. Drawing the Line. “Bromley, did you tell Jones that I never told the truth.” “I said, on the contrary, that you oc casionally inadvertently told the truth.” ‘‘Well, that's something else. I won't allow any man to intimate tnat I’m a constitutional liar. —Tine. A sign of summer—Keep off the grass. tYhen a man asks you for boss- pitali- ty do hot say neigh to him. A Western heiress is named Miss Fish. She is considered a “good catch. ” Fond mother; “You must remember, Emeline, that fine feathers don’t make a fine bird.” Daughter: “True, mamma, but they do make awfully pretty hats.” Officer to Court—The charge against this man is false pretences. He shouted he could do up the whqle ward, but I guv him one meself and flured him. “However could you think of falling in love with such a homely fellow? His figure is something awfuL” “Yes, but he has a lovely one at the bank.” It is not good to take tea in the middle of the day. The man who tried it in a Texas grocery store when he thought the clerk was not looking is au thority for this. Mr. Kenwood—I hear you are engaged to Mr. Tallboy? Miss South Park— Who told you? Mr. Kenwood—I have forgotten, but I understand the infor mation came from Jack himself. Miss South Park—I wish he’d tell me. * Oal* full seta' of teeth for $8.” Bent (cautiously)—“Y-e-s, sir. Do you> at home?” Customer—“No, I board.”! Dentist (with dignity)—You certainly cannot expect an $8 set to be of any use in a board ing house, sir. My charge to you will be $25.” “Will you vote for my bill?” inquired the lobbyist of the legislator. “No, sir, ” replied the latter; “your bill is a swindle.” “Why, man, you must have the wrong bill in mind. I mean this fifty-dollar bill l” “Well, this appears to be a good bill,” said the legislator, after examining it critically. “I’ll vote for it, of course. ” Medicinal Yalne of Yegetables. The qualities of different vegetables are worth knowing in the spring. Ac cording to one authority, celery acts upon the nervous system, and it is a cure for rheumatism and neuralgia. Tomatoes stimulate the liver; and spinach and common dandelion, pre pared in the same way, have a direct effect on diseases of the kidney. Onions, garlic and olives promote di gestion by stimulating the circulatory system, with the consequent increase of the saliva and gastric juice. Raw onions are also regarded as a remedy for sleeplessness, and the French believe that onion soup is an excellent tonic in cases of debility of the digestive organs. —Chicago Times. A Good Appetite. A certain well-known college profes sor began his career as a teacher in a country school district and following the custom of the time, 4 4 boarded around ” one winter. His arrival at one rural home took place just at dinner time, and he at once sat down with the family to enjoy the repast. # He does not remember that his appetite was par ticularly sharp that day, but at the close of the meal the mistress of the house looked across the table toward her hus- and and remarked: “Well, John, I guess you’d better kill that heifer after all.” Ycneered Diamonds. The veneered diamond is now manu factured in Paris. The veneered dia mond has a body of ordinary quartz or crystaL After it has been cut in proper shape it is put into a galvanic battery, which deposits on it a layer of minute diamonds, the clippings from diamonds in the process of shaping them. The result is a scintillating gem. That was Just the Trouble. “What is it, dear?” asked his wife, passing her cool hand over his troubled brow; “what is on your mind?” “Nothing,* answered the poet, mourn fully, gazing at the blank sheet of paper before him; 4 ‘Nothing, I assure you.”