Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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K m of ucariy <20, r ''A) to carry a big ocean sleam- * ^ ship across the Atlantic. The Italian array consists of nearly two million men, or, to give the ex act figures, 1,928,972. Among them arc 35,000 Alpine soldiers, trained and inured to the hardships of moun tain warfare. ( “What is the cheapest building lot that can be bought on Manhattan Isl and?” was asked of an old real estate agent in New York. “About $050,” was the answer, “and away up toward Spuytcn Duyvil.. The same land sold two years ago for $250.” * Prof. Elihu Thomson of the Tbom- eon-IIouston International Electric Company, has been notified that the first prize of $20,000 in the electric meter competition held under the aus pices of the Municipal Council, Paris, has been divided between his meter and that of Aarou. The Boston Transcript hears that in England there are clever gentlemen who officiate as intermediaries be tween authors and publishers, and who manage to make very handsome livings out of their commissions. The novelist “Ouida” recently attacked these gentlemen, who thereupon brou Jit out their testimonials, and it appears that Walter Besant, Rider Haggard, Bret Hartc, Rudyard Kipling and Lord Lytton are among their patrons. Our Army retired list contains some veterans, and so does that of Great Britain. The Army and Navy Gazette says: “Sixty-one years is a long time for an officer to be on the re tired list. That is the time Lord Ar- buthnot, who has just died a captain and honorable major unattached, spent on what was formerly the half pay list, to which he was promoted in June, 1830. Fifty-one years after his retirement he obtained the rank of major.” Long may the veterans wave. The Legislature of Mjssouri in 1889 enacted a law forbidding the inter marriage of first cousins. The states in which marriage between first cou sins is lawful are: Connecticut, Cali fornia, Colorado, Delaware, Idaho, Iowa, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi. Nebraska, Now Jersey', New York, North Caro lina, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Vermont, Virginia, West Vir- gillbuaud Wisconsin. At present there are no less than forty-seven different kinds of type writers made and sold in this country, ! and in New York City alone there are said to be more than 3000 expert op- ! erators making a living by typewrit- iuff- The New Orleans Times-Democra relates the following: The author of “Vice Versa,” F. Anstey', published some time ago a short story called the “Black Poodle,” which was translated into French and publi hed with proper acknowledgement in the Revue do Deux Mbudes. A few weeks ago the author, in a Parisian book shop, found a volume entitled “Lc Caniche Noir,” dictated “by the author” to a lady of rank. It was the “Black Poodle.” The scene was changed to France; the poodle’s master was now an Italian, not a Frenchman. Mr. Anstey then wrote a letter in French to the French author, signing not his own name, asking permission to render “Le Caniche Noir” into English. The au thor answered in English that he did not think his book deserved the praises liberally heaped on it by Mr. Anstey. “About your demand of adaptation, I am sorry to tell you that I am my own translator, and that the ‘Caniche NoiF exists in English already.” i The Trundle-Bed Valley. I know a little valley, in among the moun tains bid, A trundle-bed fer >'a;ur’s babes with grass green coverlid, All buttoned down Mth tulips, an’ all trimmed ’ith dandelion, A crib for Natur’s child, like me, to toddle to an’ lie on. 1 It is now ten years, states Garden and Forest, since a bulletin of the Tenth Census set forth the fact that fires had swept over more than 10,- 000,000 acres of forest in the United States and destroyed more than $25,- 000,000 worth of property in a single year. The publication of these startling figures caused wide discussion. The people of the country' were generally informed through tha press that even this enormous destruction was only a portion of the actual loss, for, in ad dition to the annihilation of so much forest wealth, the ruin of millions of seedling trees should be counted, be sides the actual burning up of the soil or its deterioration in those qualities which make forests possible—that is, these annual fires not only destroy the standing timber, but they destroy the hope of timber in the future. Since the publication of this bulletin,forestry associations in various states and scientific associations have been passing resolutions on this subject and presenting their views to various legislative bodies, State and national, and yet in the first half of this month forest fires were raging unchecked in a half dozen States, and the devasta tion has been unusually widespread. In most cases they have burned them- I love to watch the coverlid sewed with the lily’s stem An’ the trout brook is its blindin’ thet curves way aroun’ its hem. W’en the burden is too heavy fer my heart an’ ban’ an’ head, I jest choke down my tired sobs an’ seek my trundle-bed. Four big mountains are its bed-posts, an* down through its awning high, The sun shines like a breas’-pin in the buz- zum of the sky. An’ it shines so warm an’ frien’ly where my coverli 1 is spread, Thet I don’t need any candle w’en I seek my trundle-bed. Mother Natur’ loves her chii’ren, so the good ol’ soul has spread Tiger-lily-tangled bed quilts over my big trundle-bed; An’ to give her fretful youngster no excuse for being cross, She has stuffed a lazv piller with tbe softest kind of moss. So, w’en I am torn an’ tired, do my weary footsteps tread Up the pussy-wilier valley to my little trundle-bed; Mother Xatur’ bends her face down, and she seems to love me so That I rise an’ toddle bravely, all the way I have to go! — [S. W. Foss, in the Yankee Biade. THE WOMAN’S ROSE. 11Y OLIVE SCHREINER. selve* out. been stopped by .rarely has any I have an old b.own carved box; the lid is broken and tied with a string. In it I keep little squares of paper, with hair inside, and a little picture which hung over my brother’s bed when we were children, and other things as small. I have in it a rose. Oilier women also have such boxes where they keep such trifles, but no one has my rose. When my eye is dim, and my heart grows faint, and my faith in women flickers, and her present is an agony to Tne, and her future a despair, the scent of that dead rose, withered for twelve years, comes back to me. I know there will be spring; as surely as the birds know it when they see above the snow two tiny, quivering green leaves. Spring cannot fail us. There were other flowers in the box once; a bunch of white acacia flowers, gathered by the strong hand of a man, as rre passed down a village street on a sultry afternoon,when it had rained, and the drops fell on us from the leaves of the acacia trees. The flowers were damp; they made mildew marks on the paper I folded them in. After small to Le tender. I liked my power. I was like a child with a new whip, which it goes about cracking every where, not ‘ caring against what. I could not wind it up and put it away. Men were curious creatures, who liked me, I could never tell why. Only one thing took from my pleasure; I could not bear that they had deserted her for me. I liked her great dreamy blue eyes, I liked her slow walk and drawl; when 1 sa v her sitting among men, she seemed to me much too good to be among them; I would have given all their compliments if she would once have smiled at me as she smiled at them, with) all her face breaking into radicnce, . with her dimples and flasling teeth. But I knew it neverl could be; I felt sure she h jted me; that she wished I was dead jyhat she wished I had never come to the village. She did not know, when we went out riding, and a man who had always ridden beside her came to ride beside me, that I sent him away; that once when a man thought to win my favor by ridiculing her slow dfawl before me I turned on him so fiercely that he never dared to come bcfijt’e me again. I knew that she kncwihat at the hotel men had made a At as to which was the prettier, Ae or I. and had asked each man who came in, and that the one who had staked on me won. I hated them for |t, but I would not let her see that Ij cared about what she felt toward me. She ami I never spoke to each other. If we n^t in the village street we bowed and passed on; when we shook hands we’did so silently, and did not look at eaioh other. But I thought she felt my presence in a room just as I felt he'8. , At last the time for my going came. I was to Ipavc the next day. Some one 1 knew gave a party in my honor, to which all the village was invited. Now it was midwinter; there was notiiing in the garden but a few dahlias amiwlirysanthennims, and I suppose thal round there' bought for lo\ the garden on sunny corner the brick waif growing whicl was white. It the girl to wcj The eveuii and went to t| off my manll; there. She white dress,] and shouldet two hundred miles iot a rose to be icy. Only in mine, in a lyen and tree It SHIPPING ORANGES. Transporting the Fruit in Paraguay. A Procession of Women Load ing a Steamer. The two principal ports for shipping oranges are San Lorenzo and San An tonio. We staid at the latter, a lovely spot on the Paraguay river, with a strand of yellow sand, banks fringed with lilies, and in the background trees, ;ome of them forming masses of lilac bloom. The port consists of a square of sand, with the cabin and flag of the custom-house, or resguardo, and a short wooden jetty to the right; a roughly traced road leading into the interior past a sort of store or tambo; and to the left a large tent stretched over palm poles, with a lattice floor made of bam boo. This tent was full of oranges; on the sand outside were other moun tains of oranges, and carts drawn by yokes of two or four oxen, preceded by the driver, wearing a long poncho and carrying a bamboo goad, kept groaning and creaking down the slope, and depositing other golden piles along the Leach. Under the shady curtain of trees were seated groups of men, women and children with oranges, bananas, mandioca, parrots, blue-jays and monkeys, which they hope to sell, but at the same time making no effort to oiler their merchandise, preferring to remain calm and indifferent, suck ing mate through silver bombillas. The steamer is moored alongside, and a long gangway of planks is laid on high trestles from the paddle-box to the shore; then, when all is ready, about sixty women and girls and ten men set to work, some to carry baskets full of oranges, others to hand the baskets from beside the paddle-box to the upper dock, others to pass the baskets on from this point to the corral or enclosui’3 that has been built behind the pilot-house, and other still to pass down the empty baskets. The carrying is all done by women, who form a procession pass ing continuously up and down the gangway, and generally at a run. They are Paraguayans, Gua ranis, and other Indians and mulattoes of various shades, clad in white, rose, irlet, yellow' and other bright-colored lester cotton stuffs; all ar£ ^ut gay and reai Lwitho friends thought it absolutely necessa ry; however, in each case the same peculiarity was exhibited. ‘When the new cemetery was located at Rapid City the remains of the little son of Eugene Holcomb were disinterred for removal; this, I believe, was the first case of actual human petrifaction ob served in the hills. Later on, dozens were found to have been transformed into solid rock, which plainly pre served every feature, even to the deli cate tracing of the veins in the tem ples, wrists and hands. At Deadwood the remains of that famous frontiers man, Wild Bill, were also found to bo petrified. These things may sound strange and unlikely to readers of the Republic, especially to those residing in the East, but iu the Black Hills x - e- gion it is an open secret that not one corpse in a dozen “turns to dust.”— [St. Louis Republic. Milk of the Bullet Tree. Balata, or chicle gum, affords a sin gular instance of the way iu which as a natural product becomes scarce, a substitute for it, perhaps previously but little known, will suddenly be brought into use. The threatened failure in the supply of gutta petcha has caused considerable anxiety among the manufacturers of goods in which it is employed, and they are now turn ing their attention to balata as a sub stance that will meet many of the re quirements of their trade. Balata is the solidified milk of the bullet tree, one of the most striking objects in a West Indian forest, or on the banks of North American rivers. Balata col lecting is a paying trade, although the life of the collector is a hard one. The ground he traverses is often wet and swampy. In many cases he has to wade long distances knee deep in water, which may at any moment be up to his armpits. When the collecting ground is not far distant, women accompany the men, and cook or assist in laying out the calabashes and collecting the milk, while the men fell and ring the trees. The collectors sell the milk to the agent, and never dry it themselves. The price for pure milk is a dollar a gallon, and for clean well-dried balata twenty-five cei] pound. With fair weather earn from $4 to $5 season, and anjj collectoj The Sleeping Sea. Far away ships are sailing— Far, and faint and dim— Gleams of white, or glints of light. On the vague horizoa’s rim. And the ocean only varied Where the breakers cry From the strand of gleaming sand, Stretches level to the sky. Cloudless azure heavens bending O’er the sleeping sea— JPulsing heat about her feet— Where can peril be? Can it be that tempests gather, Strong winds lash the deep? Tossed in pain tbe tall ships strata. Maddened billows shoreward leap? Trust the Hon. trust the serpent When he sleeping lies, Trust thy bands to darning brands—- Trust not tickle seas and skies. — [Overland Monthly. HUMOROUS. The worst all-around striker is the borrower. “Sinithers says you’re not hia equal.” “He’s a lying sneak. I am.” The man who was hit by a rifle ball said that it was announced by a bul- ! letin. The lawyers are a great help to tho railroads, because they express so many opinions. Sometimes it’s the hardest kind of work to get the strapping big fellow to buckle down to work. When they begin selling eggs by weight the goose will take her proper place in poultry yard circles. It is sometimes easier for a man to complete a round of pleasure than it is for him to make things square after ward*. • The good die young. The others become oldest inhabitants and lie ab.ut the weather, their ages and everything else. Bickles is back after a six months’ stay in Franco- “Did he learn the French language?” “No; all he did was to forget English.” Mr. Asker—They tell bookkeeper of youj his accountsj Far fn