The Aiken recorder. [volume] (Aiken, S.C.) 1881-1910, March 11, 1892, Image 9
/O
Iii the year liefore the New Orienna
lynching 484 Italians.were arrested in
the Crescent City. In the year fol
lowing only 28 prisoners of that na
tionality were taken. There was no
decrease in the number of Italian resi
dents.
The public wealth in the United
States is $1010 per inhabitant, as com
pared with $1235 in the United King
dom of Great Britan and Ireland, and
$700 in Germany. “We are doing
pretty well, it would seem; in fact,**
remarks Once a Week, “looking
up.”
C'ticago is going hereafter to paint
all her lamp-posts and iron bridges
yellow instead of black. The com
missioner says: “If the people gener
ally would only consider how far first
impressions go with strangers they
might be willing to co-operate in this
brightening-up process before the
World's Fair opens. They might
paint their houses—such houses as
need painting—so as to look cheerful
and make a good impression on the
multitudes that will come here from
aM parts of the globe.”
It is too bad, confesses the New
York World, that the Board of Lady
Managers of the World's Fair cannot
find among all the American women
who make a profession of music some
one of sufficient ability to write a
dedicatory march. In 1889 Mme.
Aiurnsta Holmes, a French lady of
It i-li extraction, composed the “Ode
Triumphant” in honor of the French
Republic and produced for the first
time at the Falaise de I’industrie in
connection with the Paris Exposition.
It cost $60,000 to cover the expenses
of scenery, decorations, costumes and
stage mounting, but the composition
won the prize, Mme. Holmes being
the author of the words as well as the
music. It was pronounced a wonder
ful combination of allegory, panto
mime, vocal and orchestral music, and
the gifted wrfter has been invited to
contribute a similar original work for
the American Exposition.
One of the most extensive efforts in
the line of servant girl reform is likely
to be set on foot in connection with
the World’s Fair, to be held in Chi
cago in 1893. The movement em
braces an organization of a national
body with branches in every state and
county throughout the country. Mrs.
John Lucas, who is the head of the
woman’s committee of the World’s
Fair in Illinois, is one of the prime
movers in the new organization, and
SfieTt; m^TTftTVftillg ppitH
of having it brought prominently be
fore the women of the United States
through their representatives from the
' various states when assembled in Chi
cago during the progress of thp expo
sition. The movement proposes the
organization of training schools for
servants in all the large cities wherever
practicable. These diplomas will be
•imilar to the diplomas issued by the
training school for nurses, and will be
a guarantee to employes that the hold
ers are skillful domestics.
A Woman’s Temple.
| Gnconsciously a woman builds
j A temple in this world below.
And day by day a stone is laid
Of little things that come and go.
So it doth slowly rise above
Tbe tide of years, until its dome
Has reached tbe glory clouds of heaven,
A world within itself, a home—
She wisely builds upon the rock,
Far more eternal than tbe years,
Tbe pavement is of solid truth.
Untouched, unworn by falling tears.
The walls are innocence and grace.
Fair virtue makes them high and strong,
Within they shine with purity,
Resound with muse and sacred song;
The gates are pearls of truth and love,
Whence issue forth bright gleams of light,
Each stone a little sacrifice,
And kept in place by truth and right.
Tbe pillars are of gentle acts.
That bear tbe weight of golden beams
Of life, and bound by cords of love.
And braced by faith's undying streams.
Each nail a heart-beat set in place.
Each blow her very centre shook;
Tbe steps are trials, stepping stones
Where patience climbs with upward look,
The throne, her grand eternal soul,
Her king, the one she loves best;
The altar where sweet incense rise,
Does hold her greatest and her best.
So day bv day a stone is laid.
Until the white-capped dome
Is hid among the clouds.
And she has reached her heavenly home.
—[N. B. Fowles, in Inter Ocean.
Just at this time, when an Effort is
making to raise subscriptions for the
preservation of the Hermitage, “Old
Hickory’s” homestead, the discovery
of some humble relics of the battle of
Calebee, which General Jackson
fought with tbe Indians during the
Creek war, is of more than usual in
terest. J. C. Shauffer, who is em
ployed on the Western Alabama Rail
road, has found-near Shorter’s Station
what are supposed to be the graves of
chiefs who fell on the battlefield.
The graves had been exposed by a
freshet. Among their contents, lying
with the bones of the red men, were
ear-rings, beads, pipes, ballets, and a
pair of rusted scissors. The bullets
undoubtedly had fallen away from
the hones of the dead, and it is sup
posed that the manufactured articles
were obtained in barter with traders.
The last survivor of the battle of
Calebee, the Rev. John Dennis, died a
few years since, at the age of ninety"
four, in Dallas county, Ala. He
was a native of Georgia, and a mem
ber of the command of Floyd, one of
Jackson’s lieutenants. Dennis was
shot through the right arm during the
engagement, and drew a pension from
the Government up to the time of his
death.
A Happy Way Oat of It.
“I don’t see how you have the lace
to ask me to marry you.”
“Why not ?”
“Because you told Mary Gadder that
I wasn’t the kind of a woman you
would have thought of marrying a
year or so ago.”
“Well, it is true. I thought I would
have to marry somebody a million
times your inferior if I ever married
at all, and I may have to now if you
say no.”
“Oh, that’s different.’'—[New York
Press.
Good Thing for Him.
“Chappie tried some of his jokes on
Miss Keene last night.”
“And she snubbed him, I suppose?”
“She gave him a piece of her
mind.”
“Gave him a piece of her mind, did •
•he? I thought he looked brighter
than usual this evening.”—[New York
Press.
HIS UNLUCKY PLANET.
BV CLARA GREEN.
“Oh, Yes, I know it’s all my own
fault,” Charley Cleve said. “W r hose
else should it be? But I m disinherit
ed, ail the same. I’ve no more chance
of coming into that fertile farm land
than—than yonder Italian organ-
grinder, who is.turning the crank so
peseveringly under deaf Squire Ho
mer’s hack kitchen window.”
“Oh, Charley,” said Bess, clasping
her hands despairingly together.
“I didn’t expect much else,” went
on Mr. Cleve, in a rollicking, light
hearted sort of way. “I was born
under an unlucky star, Saturn, or
Mars, or some one of those planets
that never bring a fellow any good.
You c m’t expect a star to reverse its
order on my account, can you?”
“But, Charley—”
“Just wait uutil you hear th« full
account of my atrocities. I wasn’t so
much to blame for treading on the cat
—any one might have done that. I
don’t think she laid that up against
me. And when I broke down the old
cherrywood chair that had belonged
to her grandfather—that was a mere
question of weight. And I mended
it for her, too. But when the broiled
ham for breakfast had such a queer
taste to it—and I had to confess that
I had been smokirfifup’'Tfie“chimney'
where it hung—”
“Oh, Charley!”
“How was I to know that she made
a storehouse of the back-room chim
ney? Folks in Philadelphia don’t do
that sort of thing. And she wouldn’t
tolerate tobacco in any shape—she let
me know that, at the very outset!
The next thing I did was to upset
her whole churning of cream. It hung
half way down the well, don’t you
see, and when I came home, famished
with thirst, and jerked the bucket
down—well, the first thing I heard
was Cousin Sarepta screaming like
mad. ‘Is it brnglars?’ said I, seizing
my blackthorn stick, ‘or is it fire?’
And I had plunged into the house, and
put my foot—literally, not metaphori.
cally—into the old lady’s baking of
custard pies, that she had set ou the
cellar floor to cool, before she could
make me understand. But the last
straw that broke tbe camel’s hack was
the old gray goose.”
“ ‘The old gray goose,’ •Charley!
Surely, nothing has happened to
that!” ’
Mr. Cleve shook his head.
“The very worst has happened,”
said he, “I’ve shot it!”
“On, Charley!”
The young man laughed bitterly,
and spouted the lines:
“ ‘Whv look’st thou so? With my cross-
bow
I shot the albatross!’
Yes, I did. Out wild-duck hunting
in the marshes. I thought it was
rather a mammoth specimen, when I
leveled the trigger; and when Don
brought it to me my heart sank to the
very soles of my boots. I had half an
idea of burying the creature out among
the salt grasses, and saying never a
word. But that would have been a
sneaking sort of a dodge. The Cleves
can do plenty of shabby things, but
they never lie outright. So I brought
it home with the string of wild birds.
‘I’m very sorry. Cousin Sarepta,-’ said
I, ‘but I’ve shot your old goose. I'll
replace it with the finest pair to be had
in Salt Inlet.’ ‘Replace it!’ says she;
and then, to be sure, thcie was a
scene. She set a good deal of store
by that old gray goose, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” said Bessie, re
signedly. “It was nearly twenty
years old. She raised it herself, in a
basket by the kiteben-fire, and it ate
corn daily out of her owu hand. She
wouldn’t have taken twenty dollars
for that old goose. No, nor fifty, I
do believe.”
“So,” added Chadey, with a par
ticularly expressive shrug of the
shoulders, “she has turned rae out of
doors. She called me a loafer and a
shiftless ne’er-do-weel; and I dare say
she was right I douldn’t contradict
her, so I didn’t try. She recom
mended me to go about my business;
so I did. And here I am. I’ve tele
graphed iO Philadelphia for the taxi
dermist. That was all I could do.
Do you suppose, Bess, your father
would take me to board for eight
days? I’ve lust eight days left of my
vacation, and there’ll be snch a lot of
questions asked if I came home in
advance of time. I wouldn’t advise
you to have a word to say to me. I
dare say 1 shall set fire to tbe house,
or poison the family, or shoot some
body by mistake. What can be ex
pected of a fellow that was born under
an unlucky planet?”
Bess Warden laughed cheerily.
“Father will risk it, I am sure,”
said she. *<We haven’t a great deal
of spare room, but mother will make
you up a eot-bed in the room with the
boys, and if you can put up with our
plain way of living—”
He stopped her mouth with a kiss-
“You are an angel, Bess!” said he.
The kindly Warden family did their
best to console old Miss Sarepta
Smith’s discarded relation, and to
make the last portion of his vacation
a trifle pleasanter than the first had
been. But Doctor Warden shook his
frost-white head.
“I don’t like long engagements,”
said he. “And Bess can’t marry a
man on any twelve dollars a week.”
“But, father, Charley will do better
in time.”
“If it pleases the unlucky planet,’>
interpolated Charley.
“Well, wait uutil the better times
come.”
“Oh, we don’t mind waiting I” cried
Bess.
“Speak for yourself, if you please,”
murmured Charley.
“We’ve a lifetime before us,” as
severated Bess; “and, in the mean
time, Charley, we’ll go out duck
shooting tomorrow, and I’ll row you
through the Silver Chanuels to the
best ground on all the coast.”
On the night before Mr. Cleve’s
time was up, the lovers, talking to
each other late iu the autumnal star-
starlight ou the porch, saw a red glow
in the sky above the privet hedge.
“It’s a bonfire,” said Charley.
“It’s Miss Sarepta Smith’s house !’>
shrieked Bess. “Help! Help! Fire!
Water! Oh, why don’t somebody
come!”
“Call your father and the boys!”
said Charley, flinging off his coat.
“I’ll jump the fence and take the
short cut. She’s all alone iu the house,
poor thing.”
At Salt Inlet they had neither steam
fire engines nor patent extinguishers.
By the time the volunteer company
had dragged the rickety old engine
and hose-car^j^of their shed, and
hoisTed'tfien^^^uie 6iff, the ancieUt*
house where Sarepta Smith had been
born was in ruins; and the old woman
herself, carried in a big chair over to
the Warden house, was lamenting that
she, too, had not gone also.
“Seems like I couldn’t live nowhere
else,” said she. “And I’m an old
woman—a very old woman.”
Bess Warden gave up her owu room
to Miss Sarepa. Every one did what
he could to make her comfortable, but
the only sign she evinced of pleasure
was when Charlie Cleve brought in
the old gray goose, stiffly mounted ou
an imitation of moasy ground. Her
dim eyes lighted up.
“I am glad you saved that, Charles,”
said she.
“I found it among a heap of other
things,” said Charley, “and I thought
you’d like to have it. See, here are
your spectacles, too, and the old Bible,
with the leaves all right, and the cover
only a little charred!”
Miss Sarepta looked feebly from
one relic to another.
“I'm glad,” said she, “very glad.
It was thoughtful of you, "Charles.
I’m sorry I called you them names. I
take ’em all back.”
“Oh, never mind the names,” said
Charley. “At all events, you can’t
lay this fire to me!”
“No,” said Sarepta, “it was the
mice playin’ on the closet shelf where
I kept the matches. I’d laid up to set
a trap, hut I forgot. And I should
ha’ been burned iu my bed, if it hadn’t
been for you, Charles. I allays
dreaded a death by fire!”
Old Miss Sarepta lay very quietly
for a day or two, with the gray goose
folding its wings at her bed head, and
the Bible and spectacles on a stand
beside her pillow.
“Charles shall have the gray goose,”
said she, one evening. “It'll help fur
nish his house. And it’ll show I don’t
bear no malice ou account of his
shootin’ it. And the specks and the
BiLle Bess must keep. An old Bible
brings every one luck!”
She died before daybreak. If there
was any will—and Miss Sarepta was
always believed to be a well-to-do,
businesslike woman—it was destroyed
in the flames. The old place—three-
and-forty acres—went to a cousin
nearer of kin than Charley Cleve.
“My unlucky planet again,” said
Charley, with a grimace. “Well,
never mind, Bess; it’s only waiting a
little longer. We’ve got a Bible aud
a pair of spectacles, after all.”
•‘And a stuffed gray goose,” said
Bess.
“Oh, hang the goose!” said Char-
ley. “It’s neither useful nor orna
mental. Let’s shy it out into the
orchard,” and he seized it by one leg.
“Oh, stop, Charley!” cried thrifts*
Bess. “Let's save the feathers for s
pillow.”
“They’re full of arsenic and such
staff.”
“All the better for keeping oat
moths,retorted Bess. “I’ll pack
them into a bag, and— Oh, Charlie*,
what is this?”
A piece of the old gray goose’s epi
dermis had come off with the first
handful of feathers. Underneath it
was something liko dull-green paper,
packed in layers.
“Hello!” said Charley. “Why—
they’re hills! They’re—money I Look
here! Am I dreaming?”
It was true. The old gray goose
was stuffed full of new crisp green
backs. Sarepta Smith’s eccentricities
had not ceased with her death. fThere
had been method in her words when
she gave Charley Cleve this memorial
of his own blunder, as a peace offer-
iug.
“Five hundred dollars!” said he.
“I say, Bess, isn’t it almost enough to
get maj'ried upon? We’ll do it very
quietly, you know.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Charley.”
“But look iu the old Bible, Bess.
Who knows what may be hidden
there?”
Nothing was hidden there. Ap
parently Miss Sarepta had confined
her savings bank idea to the old gray
goose.
Charley Cleve considered deeply.
“Five hundred dollars won’t go very
far in the city,” said he; “aud in the
Trust Company, where I’m clerking
it, a fellow may grub away for 20
years without any chance of promo-
tiou. I’ll cut city life, Bess, if you
say so, and invest this money in the
first payment on a little fruit farm out
here at Salt Inlet.”
Bess’s face lighted up.
“Close to my old home!” she cried.
“Oh, Charley-, I do ‘say so!’”
And 10 years after their wedding-
day, when the^reat railway vein had
throbbed through their land, and the
“little fruit farm” was cut up into
village lots, the thriving young farmer
looked at his wife with a smile.
“It all comes of the old gray goose,
Bess,” said he.
“The unlucky planet was a lucky
one after all,” laughed Bess.— [The
Ledger.
A Wall of Crushed Human Flesh.
One of thtvmost appalling mine dis
asters whic/n have occurred in the
United States of late years happened
just about o'year ago in H. C. Frick
& Co.’s mahinnoth mine, near Mount
Pleasant, Finn. An explosion of gas
and fire damp killed 107 men in less
than that Aiumber of seconds. The
victims yjjlM literally blown to pieces.
Lo.v.l'-ed fppj from
the bodie^hat had borne them in life.
A mass of wreckage, iu which were
indiscriminately mingled the corpses
of men anjl mtrles, was packed against
the side of the fatal heading so com
pletely that it was with the greatest
difficulty that the human bodies were
extricated and removed. This awful
wall of crushed flesh had been com
pressed by the force of the explosion
until it was almost as solid as the coal
itself. There was hardly a cottage iu
the hamlet that did not shelter mourn
ers. At least six women went vio
lently insane over the loss of their
loved ones. Two women, widowed
by the accident, attacked Superinten
dent Keighley near the entrance to the
mine amF nearly killed him with
1
stones.
In March, 1890, a naked lamp on the
cap of a mule driver fired a “blower”
of gas in a South Wilkesbarre (Penn.)
colliery. The timbers of the mine
caught fire from the gas. Eight men
perished. They were slowly strangled
to death by smoke or roasted by the
flames. Every man left a widow aud
a family.
The disaster in the Lane silver mine
at Angelo, near San Andreas, Cal.,
in 1889 gained sadness from the fact
that it came just before Christmas.
Sixteen men were crashed to death by
falling rock. Three of them left
wives and children. — [New York
Press.
Making Medicine Palatable
The Paris hospitals have a prac!i(&
which may with profit be commended
to the physicians and nurses of this
country. Some years ago a leading
physician of Paris, noting the strenu
ous objections entertained by many
patients of the hospitals to taking
medicine because of its noxious taste,
conceived the idea that medicine should
be administered in the food of the pa
tients. He bega.t a series of experi-
nicnts to ascertain whether the taste
of drugs might not be so disguised
with food iu to render them, if not
palatable. It least less objectionable.
The oils, such as cod-liver oil, castor
oil and th± like, he concealed in soups,
aud invented a peculiar bread known
ns th^chalybeate bread, for the pur-
po*e bf administering iron tonic,
which many persons object strongly
to ta’|ng on account of its taste.
Every ounce of this bi'ead contains one
grain cf the lactate of iron, and the
quantity of iron tonic which a patient
would take iu the course of one day’s
meals would be quite sufficient for all
medical purposes. The idea is not a
bad c>ne for our doctors to follow, for
a patient with a weak or squeamish
stomach’’is often put to no little incon
venience or suffering by the abomui-
ablo tasM of some necessary medi
cines. — (Globe- r ‘ a "»ocrat
CHARGING A GUN.
Company “G” Wins a Page in
the Records of War.
Sensations of a Soldier at the
Cannon’s Mouth.
Our brigade is being held in reserve
aud is protected by the lay of the
ground from the enemy’s fire. SheU
and round shot have screamed and
whizzed over our heads, and the
“ping I” of bullets has been as con
stant as if bees were swarming about
us. Here and there a man has gone
down or becu touched in a way to
make him scream out, but the loss has
been trifling. The real fighting is all
on our right. Those men down there
in the flame and smoke are neater
death than we are, but they have the
excitement of action to make them
reckle s of the fact. Here we stand
in linos waiting — faces growing a
little paler all the time — men trying
to jest aud joke to conceal their real
feelings.
“Scream! Shriek! Crash!”
It’s a rifle shell bursting just beyond
us, and it comes from a new direction.
The enemy has quietly planted a gun
on the bush-covered ridge in a way to
enfilade the right of our brigade.
“Boom! Shriek! Death!”
That shot was better—better for
the enemy, because fragments of the
shell wounded three men. The
brigadier-general and his staff are
alive to the situation. Au order
comes to our colonel.
A minute later we got the order
from our captain:
“Attention, Company G! Right
dress! Shoulder—arms! Left face!
Forward—march I”
"What have we been detached'from
the regiment for? We move out by
the flank along the line of an old fence
for a few rods and come to a “halt!”
and “right face!” We can now see
the gun ou the ridge. It has fireJ
again and again, aud every shell is
striking men down.
“Company G, we are going to
charge that gun and take it!” shouts
our little captaiu from the head of the
line.
There are 56 men of us all told—a
little better than half a company. The
captain does not call for volunteers;
he does not announce that cowards
can step three paces to the ‘ rear. He
would not insult men who were with
him at Williamsburg, Yorktown, Fair
Oaks, Malveru Hill and elsewhere.
How far is it to the gun? Not over
half a mile—perhaps not that far. It
js ilowi a rough' sfojie—across a sTvy-A?
up a second slope, iu which rocks out
crop and bushes grow here and there.
“Scream! Scream! Scream!
They are working the gun as if its
fire was to decide the fate of the bat
tle. Those we have left behind are
watching us, and will be our critics.
If mj succeed, those who return alive
will* be heroes until some other
forlorn hope eclipses our record. If
we fail !
“Forward—guide right I”
We are making au easy start. We
step out at “common time,” every el
bow touching the man on the right,
and there is a tremendous cheer from
the brigade as we go down the slope.
I am looking straight ahead. I doubi
if any man in that line even giimpsted
to the right or left. I am wondering
when that gun will be turned upon us;
so, doubtless, is every other man.
Our alignment is perfect until we
reach tbe swale. Then it is broken as
we meet the tall, dry grass and weeds
and the scrubby hushes.
“Halt! Right dress!”
It’s our little captain re-forming
the line as for a parade. Three
thousand men are watching us—
cheering and applauding. We shall
lose him. He will be made a major
for this.
“Forward—guide center!”
We are ascending a slope. Out
line was never more steady on the
parade ground. The man on my
right chuckles to himself; the one on
my left is struggling to repress the
cheer rising in his throat. Exultation
has replaced all other feeling.
“O-o-o-o! Scream! Shriek! Swish!”
The artillery men have caught sight
of us at last and'that shell just cleared
our heads and exploded on the other
slope.
“Double-quick — guide center —
charge!” shouts our little captain, and
now we cheer and cheer and charge.
Another shell—but it missed us.
Bullets from revolvers sing about us
—a mighty cheer comes to onr ears
from the brigade left behind—and
now wc drive into the smoke around
the gun. It had infantry support
perhaps a company—and the gunners
fought us hand to hand. There was
hurrahing—cursing—yells of paiu and
screams of agony—blows with the
saber and thrusts with the bayonet,
and when we awoke from the night
mare the gun wasours and a regiment
was moving up to hold the position
we had won.
I did not look back as we moved
down past the support to rejoin our
owu regiment in reserve. There was
no need to. I knew the sight which
would have greeted my eyes. I
waited for the roll-call after we had
returned. Nineteen dead and wounded
out of fifty-six! Over a third of our
cpmmantVTeft on that spot!
But we were cheered—hundreds
shook our hands—Company “G” had
won for itself a page in the records of
war. — [Detroit Free Press.
What Blue Eyes Mean.
“AVhat remarkably blue eyes you
have I”
The remark was addressed by a
Washington Star writer to an ex
officer iu the regular army, whose life
has contained more than an ordinary
snare of ventures aud vicissitudes.
“That is what they call in England
the ‘Wimbledon eye,”’ was his reply,
“because it is meant to shoot with.
Scientific riflemen will tell you that
there is no such eye for marksmanship
as the blue one of the color which has
excited your attontiou. Black eyes
and brown eyes aren’t in it with the
blue anyway, when it comes to shoot
ing or fighting. That is why the
Northern people have always wiped
the Southern races out when it came to
war. Yoti will see the fact illustrated
perhaps wheu we come to blows with
Chili.
“Did you ever look into the eyes'of
a person who was really engaged? I
did once, aud they were my own.
Their expression was so horrible that
I have never forgotten it. I am very
slow to anger, but on the occasion I
refer to I had cause, as I think you
will admit. My adversary had not
only insulted me in the grossest pos
sible manner, but he Lad fired four
shots at me.
“I had a gun myself, hut I didn’t
stop to draw iu The only thing I
thought of was to get at the man. I
jumped upon him like a wildcat. He
was quite my equal in strength, but I
was mad Ttlth fury and could have
thrashed two of him at that moment.
Besides, I was a practical boxer.
However, my powers with my-fists
were not called into requisition; we
were at too close quarters for that.
“As I sprang upon him he fell
against a mirror which was behind
him aud I caught a glimpse over his
shoulder of my own eyes As we went
down together. They actually had a
diabolical expression, and, as I said,
the recollection has haunted me ever
since. They meant kill. , In an in
stant I had wrenched the smoking
revolver out of my enemy’s hand, and
with the first blow of its but I smashed
in the crown of his hat. Incident
ally his head was crushed in also. If
he had not carried so very large a
pistol the result would not have been
so disastrous for himself, but it was a
heave cavalry weapon, with a brass
ring iu the end, aud he nearly died in
consequence.
Big Game Doomed.
Deer aud elk meat is becoming as
common an article of diet with the
residents of Livingston aud Park
county as was Buffalo meat in years
gone by. Large hands of elk and deer
are just now coming out of their sum
mer’s rendezvous in the National Park,
and unless the law passed by the last
Legislature is speedily officially inter
preted so as to protect the game from
indiscriminate slaughter the increase
which has resulted during the last few
years, under the protecting clause of
the old game laws, will speedily
dwindle to nothing. Last week James
Howell and others left the city with
eleven pack animals headed toward
the Hell Roaring district for the pur
pose of ki ling deer attd elk. Several
other like parties are also out in the
hills contiguous to the park, and the
canyons of the Upper Yellowstone are
echoing the report of the hunter’s
trusty rifle. It is to be regretted that
the amended section of the game law
is so peculiarly worded as to permit
of a doubt as to whether it is lawful
to kill large game for speculative pur
poses. In constructing the amend
ed section the intent and purpose of
the legislative body should be taken
into consideration, and if this is done
there can he no question hut that tho
section prohibits the killing of large
game for head, hide or meat except for
the use of the individual who does the
killiug. The Post would like to see
the law tested before the extermina
tion of the deer and elk in the state
shall have become complete. — [Liv
ingston (Montana) Post.
Character in Mustaches.
There is a great deal of character in
the mustache. As the form of the
upper lip and the regions about it has
largely to do will) the feelings, pride,
self-reliance, manliness, vanity and
other qualities that give self-control,
the mustache is connected with the
expression of those qualities or the re
verse. "When the mustache is ragged
and, as it were, flying hither and
thither, there is a lack of proper self-
control. When it is straight and
orderly the reverse is the case, other
tilings, of course, taken into account.
Jf there is a tendency to curl at the
outer ends of the mustache there is a
tendency to ambition, vanity and dis
play. When the curl turns upward
there is a geniality combined with a
love of approbation; when the incli
nation is downward there ‘is a more
sedate turn of mind, not accompanied
with gloom. It is worthy of remark
that good-natured men will, in play
ing with the mustache, invariably give
it an upward inclination, whcrca*
cross-grained or morose men will puil
it • obliquely dowuward. — [National
Barber.
Guild’s Signal.
Two low whistles, quaint and clear.
That was the signal the engineer—
That was the signal that Guild, ’tis said
Gave so his wif^at Providence,
As through tbe sleeping town, and thence
Out in the night,
On to the light,
Down past the farms, lying white, heaped.
As a husband’s greeting, scant, no donbt,
Yet to the woman looking out,
Watching and waiting, no serenade,
Love-song or midnight rouadelay
Said what that whistle seemed to say:
“To my trust true.
So love to you!
Working or waiting, good night!” it said.
Brisk young bagmen, tourists fine.
Old commuters alone the line,
Brakemen and porters glanced ahead.
Smiled as tbe signal, sharp, intense.
Pierced through the shadows of Providence—
“Nothing amiss—
Nothing!—it is
Only Guifd calling his wife,” they said.
•
Summer and winter the old refrain
Rang o'er the billows of ripening grain,
Pierced through the budding boughs o’er
head,
Flew down the track when the red sheaves
burned
Like living coals from the engine spurned;
Sang as it flew:
“To our trust true.
First of all, duty! Good night!” it said.
And then, one night, it was beard no more
From Stonington over Rhode Island shore;
And the folk in Providence smiled and
said,
As they turned in their beds: “The engineer
Has once forgotten his midnight cheer.”
One only knew
To his trust true.
Guild lay under his engine, dead.
—[Bret Harte.
HUMOROUS.
Better late than never—Going to
bed.
A man’s deeds live after him. So
do his mortgages.
Coasting is delightful sport for boys
but it has its drawbacks.
Jealousy will create heart burn and
so will too many buckwheat cakes.
When the ambitious young man goes
forth to seek his level he begins right
off to look for a ladder.
“Real clevaw fellaw, Baggs is, real
clevaw fellaw.” “But what is he
clever at?” “Why, at being so dooced
clevaw, don’t chew knaw.”
Greenland has no cats. How thank
ful the Greenlanders should be. Im
agine cats in a country where the
nights are six months long!
Doctor—Did you have much of a
chill? Fair Patient—It seemed so.
Doctor—Did your teeth chatter. Fair
Patient—No; they were in my dress
ing-case.
Schoolmaster—Scientists tell us the
moou is inhabited. George (from
fJbe hr'i.uvffyjf the class)—Then where
do the people go when there’s otJTy*
half a moou?
Foreigner—I was in your Congress
once wheu the scene was noisier thau
that in a stable. American—That
must have been when the “neighs’
were being counted 1
A professor in the medical depart
ment of Columbia College asked O"^
of the more advanced studen
“What is the name of the teeth thi
human being gets last?” “False te* ,
of course.”
Miss Molly McGinnis—Yes, to
ganing is all very well, but you c ’t
know whether you will come :k
alive or dead. Gus do Smith——
you’ve always come hack alive, I
suppose, Miss Mollie?
Brown—Say, Jones, when you come
in late at night don’t you always
wake your wife? Jones (promptly)
—Never. Brown (surprised)—Jee-
hosaphat! How no you manage it?
Jones (with a sigh)—I don’t have to.
Electricity in Warfare.
In an interview with a New York
World reporter the other day, Mr.
Edison said that electricity would soon
play a bigger part in warfare than
powder and dynamite. AVith only
twenty-five men the inventor says he
can make a fort impregnable. His idea
is to place in each fort an alternating
machine of 20,000 volts capacity.
One wire would he grounded. A man
would govern a stream of water ol
about four hundred pounds pressure
to the square inch, with which the
20,000 volts alternating current would
be connected. By turning this stream
of water on the enemy as they ad
vanced it would mow them down.
Every man touched by the water
would ’complete the circuit, get the
full force of the alternating current,
and never know what had happened
to him. Men trying to take the fort
by assault, though they numbered tens
of thousands, would be cut down
without a chance to escape. They
might walk around the fort, but they
could never take it. By modifying
the current, the defenders of the fort
could merely stun their enemies, qnd
then make a sally and pick up a few
gross of stupefied and limp generals
and colonels to hold for ransom, while
the others could be left to recover or
be killed by another current. Mr.
Edison says that all this is to be no
guess work. He got his idea some
years ago, when wires loaded with
heavy electric charges were put ap^|
the cities. He believed then ttu
men might receive deadly sh<
the electricity running dov^
of water crossing the wirj
an experiment on a catj
.and tbe cat found ouj
was a dead sure thi