The Anderson intelligencer. (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, February 13, 1873, Image 1
HOYT & ?0o iV?ppietors.
ANDERSON C. H., S. C, THURSDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 13, 1873.
VOLUME VUL?NO. 32.
Ir? A TIGHT PLACE,
It was about eleven o'clock on a stormy eve?
ning that I bade good night to my student,
Tom Richards, at the door of my laboratory, at
the south end of the college building.
'*Good night, Professer,r' said! Tom ? "we are
going to have a fall of hydrogen, oxygen and a
trace of sahne/'
Hydrogen and oxygen?in our nomenclature,
B. Q.-?is vater.?
"I hope," I said in answer to Tom's playful
words, "that it will not rain before I can get
home."
"Oh, no, it won't for an hour yet," said Tom.
"Then," I said, with a sigh, noticing that the
mercury in my barometer was rapidly failing
?a sign of a violent storm, 'I shall certainly
get wet"- i "
Tom was very anxious to know what would
keep me tip'after twelve o'clock, so I told him
I was about to commence analyzing the stom?
ach of Mrs. Johnson, whose husband now lay
in P--jail, (just across the road from the
college) on suspicion that he was the murderer.
Tom said I had worked hard enough that day
and deserved the.nijrht to myself. He spoke
the truth. Still, I delayed examining the wo?
man's stomach so long, and the trial was so
close at hand, that I could not in conscience
put off tne examination further.
As Tom was passing out of -the college yard,
. through the gate, hia head, turned, bidding me
good-night, he brushed against a man standing
with his back to the college and his face to?
wards the prison. The street lamp showed me
that the man was in police uniform.
? Re-en to ring my laboratory, I took down a
glass jar from a shelf, and sat down, before my
sink to' examine it This jar, which contained
Mrs. Johnson's stomach, was covered by a
cloth, dofy -tied With strings, and properly
sealed with my official seal in red wax. Bra?
king through the clolh and sea!, I lifted op the
stomach out with a dissecting hook, and laid it
on a white platter before me, then became busi?
ly engaged in applying those tests to its con?
tents by which we detect the presence of inju?
rious substances.
An hour had passed since the departure of
young Richards. I had carefully emptied the
contents of the stomach into a number of bowls
and basins. I had labored hard to discover
traces of poison in all this, but had been un?
successful. Joe Johnson, the suspected man,
had been a student of mine a few years before.
I thought him a good-hearted, intelligent fel?
low, only a little wild, and I really began to
hope that he might prove innocent, when
?mong the macerated food I came upon a small,
infinitesimal white grain. By careful manipu?
lation and the use of my magnifying glass, I
managed to get this upon a piece of smoked
.glass, and examined! iL
I was certain I had discovered arsenic, but to
make assurance doubly sure. I determined to
apply a well known test for that poison.
Accordingly, I placed in the woman's stom?
ach the usual acidit, and then turned on the
blow-pipe flame, and presently, upon white and
beautiful porcelain ground, there appeared that
brilliant metallic mark, worthy of Cain's brow,
which is the sign and eignet .of the Poison
fiend.
"Yes," I exclaimed as I saw the fatal blazon,
'"Joe Johnson is the murderer of his wife!
With the evidence of that mark to back me,
no power can save him from the rope."
"Do you really think so?" said a calm
squeaking voice behind me.
I turned quickly'and discovered a tall, thin
policeman, with red, weak and watery eyes,
standing in my office doer and staring in. His
body looked as if it had been rolled out long
between his hands, like a stick of molasses
candy. His hose was merely an elongated
fleshy ping, and his forehead was decorated
with two red streaks, instead of eyebrows. He
had no expression at all, and his policeman's
bat was so large that it -threatend to settle
down on bis shoulders.
His uniform reassured me and I addressed
him thus, with a good deal of impatience:
"My friend, I suppose that I am wanted to
attend an inquest, or what is your purpose ?"
"No, not that doctor,-the man ain't dead yet."
"Anything in the surgical way ?"
I was a- ponce sufgeoir as Well "as the Coroner.
"No."
"Well, then, why do you come to me at this
time of night?"
"Don't bother, professor. The man ain't
dead yet; but they -say he will die before
morning."
"Are thereany-doetots attending on him?"
"Oh, he is in good hands, professor," replied
the man?
"What's -the niatter with inmT'
"Well," said theofficial, "some folks say he's
got so much knowledge ia.to him that he can't
live under it"
"Cerebal disorder, eh ?"?
"What?" asked the man.
"Brain disorder, I mean?something wrong
here."
? I touched my forehead, and so did he, as he
said:
"Aye; and I thought I'd drop in and tell I
you, if you was going to the station to-morrow,
to take a look and see if it's post mortem or
not. Besides I want to see where I could al
ways find you in case of need." J
I bowed, and attributed his visit to a feeling
of curiosity. He sat on the sink, , with one foot
thrown over the other, and wiped bis nose with
a dirty handkerchief several times, while his
eyes wandered about the room, as if noting all
it contained. Finally he spoke, like one who
thought himself called on to say something:
"Professor, there's been a terrible accident
this afternoon?terrible, too."
"Eh!" said t
"Awful," said he.
"What was it?"
"Nitro glycerine explosion up in the iron
mills. A hundred fellow mortals killed."
"Sad!"
"Affecting,: very." Here he rubbed his
eoouth with the back of his hand. "Pcrfesscr,
what is that nitro glycerine ?"
*^t is a yery da?gerd?s article," I answered,
happy to display my knowledge. "It has near?
ly twice the destructiveness or gunpowder, but
unlike it, does not explode on application of
heat. A red-hot coal dropped into it will not
explode it It will freeze; it is yellow and
greasy."
"You don't mean to say so ?" said the officer,!
interrupting me in disagreeable tones in the
very middle of a choiee extract from one of ray
lectures. "Whv, but you hovn't told me how
it goes off. If fire won't do it, what the deuce
will ??
I told that if the nitro glycerine was pressed,
or anything fell upon it, it would explode.
"Place it under the crusher of a cider mill,
strike it with a hammer, let a weight fall upon
it from a height-."
"Yes," said my man ; "and that rouses its
volcaner, does it ? How does it come, Perfes
sor?"
"In little cans?why, like these," said I, dis?
covering that there was a little can of it on the
marble sink, which I had carelessly neglected
to replace in the cellar.
I then took a little of the glycerine and
spread it on a tbiu picco of paper, and laying
the paper on an anvil, struck it with a hammer.
A slight explosion and flame barst from the
paper.
' Now, really," said the policeman, starting
back. "I suppose, Perfesser, that there can
would make a mighty noise if allowed to ex?
plode in here all at oace ?"
"It would blow the entire buildings to atoms,"
said I resuming the analysis of Mrs. Johnson's
stomach.
'?Now,". I heard the policeman remark, in de?
liberate tones, "you don't say so?"
The next moment I lay on my back, a gag in
my mouth, terribly frightened and sick at heart.
Over me stood the policeman, and the first
thing that functionary did was, looking me
straight in the face, to take off his nose. He
then rid himself of his red eye-brows, hair, cap,
and overcoat, and became a determined looking
fellow, with the eyes of a fiend and the nose of
a Roman.
"So, yon think," said metamorphosed, in the
tones of a gentleman, "that nothing can save Joe
Johnson from the rope ? Poor fellow! it does
look like it But, my dear Professor, Joe John?
son is fortunate enough to have in me a devo?
ted friend, as well as a brother. I have under?
taken to save him, and be shall be saved. In
order to attain this end, it will be necessary to
remove from the face of the earth the stomach
of his miserable wife yonder, but also, my dear
Professor?I'm sorry to be obliged to say it, for
I believe you were my brother's teacher and
friend?yourself as well."
' I saw that he was in deadly earnest, and I
began to think that I was in a tight place.
"Your death must apparently result from ac?
cident?at least, so it will seem to the authori?
ties. My brother is in jail; they certainly will
not suspect me."
He took me in his arms, placed me in a chair,
and bound me to it and then from a side pocket
he produced another rope.
Was it myself, who was to hang instead of
Joe Johnson ?
No?yes. He placed the line pully-like,
J over an arm of the hanging chandelier. This
was too slight a support even for one of my
slender frame. It was not to be hanging, then.
To the end of the rope he attached a weight,
and raised it by pulling the other end six or
eight feet from the floor. The loose end he
secured to the sink. Was he mad ? Did he
mean to draw me under this weight and send
me out of the world in a novel way, by letting
it fall, and dashing my brains out?
? To the sink end he attached a long yellow
string.
Under the weight on the floor he placed the
can of nitro glycerine. I recognized the yellow
string?it was a fuse, and would burn sixty
minutes. It would burn across the marble slab I
?there was no hope of its igniting any sub-1
! stance that might warn my friends.
"Do you begin to see through it ?" asked Joe
Johnson's brother.
? I believe I cursed him with my eyes. I could
only breathe through my nostrils, and the great
veins were swelling aud growing hot in my
forehead.
Drawing a match from his pocket he lighted
and applied it to the fuse?that little tyrant
that gave a man an hour to live, and killed
I him at the end of it?that little irresponsible
terror that, less merciful than Providence, told
a man the second he was to die, if fright and
horror spared him. Slowly the flame crept,
snake-like, around the twine,
j "In one hour," said the prisoner's brother,
: "you will be in eternity 1 I will watch with you
for half an hour?the other half you will spend
alone."
He sat down some minutes in a chair, watch?
ing the flame. Then he arose and took the
piece of porcelain, with the murderer's mark
thereon, iron the table, and shook his head
gloomily.
"I am. chemist enough to know it is arsenic,"
he said. "Yes, these bright metalic eyes, be?
trayer of the guilty 1 Science tbou would'st.
kill my brother. Thou shalt save him. Let
us see in whose hands thou art most powerful.
Let the good Professor use his chemicals; the
bad brother only asks?a little can of nitro
glycerine."
I heard this speech indeed; but, great heav
ens! my eyes and not my ears were busiestf
then; from beneath the table, covered by the
crimson cloth of which X have before spoken,
(and which I faced, appeared the head of a
child. The hair was rumpled, and the blue
eyes were just opep from sleep. The intelli?
gent forehead was wrinkled strangely. It was
my boy Billy. I was afraid he would cry
"Papa!" If he did, the implacable man would
add the murder of the child to the murder of I
the father. .
But my boy did none of this. He had, I
suppose, crept under the table unknown to me,
and fell asleep there. I tried to tell the little
fellow to hide again, and wait for the final half
hour when my tormentor would be gone.
Whether he understood me or not, aided by
what he haii heard, I did not know; but he
quickly withdrew his little curly head, first
kissing his band lightly at me, and then sha?
king his fist at the schemer watching so bellig?
erently his dumb fire agents.
The half hour wore slowly away. Oh, heav?
ens I what agony did I suffer 1 not for myself,
but for my child. A slight noise might discov?
er bis presence; the match might run its tether
sooner than was expected. He might be mur?
dered or blown to atoms.
The fuse burned on?on 1 The half hour is
up!
The brother of the murderer rises to go?
"Commit your soul to heaven's keeping," he
said. "You who hold the evidence of my I
brother's guilt?uothing can save you now."
With that he turned to take his hat from off
the table covered with the crimson cloth, be?
neath which hid my precious boy. Something
attracted bis attention. He held up his hands
and leaned forward. I thought he had discov?
ered my boy. No; he was lifting something in
either naud?the wires of the electric battery.
In another instant my boy bad leaped from un?
der the table and was turning the crank fast
and f uriously.
The murderer's brother was in the power of
my boy. He could not drop the wires; he was
j helpless and motionless. How my boy cried
j for help. The old college rung again. The
' prisoner's brother added his voice to my boy's
J in his agony. He begged, he beseeched?all
his nerves racked?great waves of galvan
! ism leaped, and surged and trembled, and
i jarred over the sensitive nerve and fibre. Still
I the boy wa3 inflexible?he shouts and turned
: the faster.
TJnperceived upon the marble, in tho track
of the burning fuse was a pool of inflammable
oil. In an instant a great length burned away.
; It would last just five minutes and no more.
I "Father," shouted my boy, "if no assistance
comes, this villain must die with us. I dare
not let him free! Help I help! help !"
Alas! I could not answer him.
Bat some one else did. Thank heaven! The
rope is on fire, the weight trembles?another
minute it falls upon the nitro-glycerine. The
door opens. Tom Richards, on his midnight,
I visit to the sick, has heard tbo ory, he compro
bends all, seizes the can in his hands?the
? weight descends, indeed, but not on the death- ?
dealing oil. No; down it goes through the
office floor?down, down, like an evii spirit, to
give back a dull, metallic echo from the stones
of tbe cellar beneath.
We were saved.
Joe Johnson, the prisoner, was hanged, but
his brother remains unpunished by tbe law, for
he stabbed himself with a knife, and thus es*
caped the hangman's rope.
A ItEMABXABLE STOBT?HOW THE SlGfiT
of a Beae affected a Mule.?Last Sat?
urday a gentleman living near Madison sta?
tion) on the Memphis and Little Bock road,
left bis home to go to the village. He had
not proceeded more than two hundred yards,
mounted on ft lineal descendant of Balaam's
ass, when he encountered a great, greasy black
bear. The bear was astonished, and, without
taking time to think, harried up a scaly-bark
hicko 7 and seated himself very comfortably
on a limb, thirty or forty feet from the ground.
The farmer was completely puzzled. If he
rode back to his house to get his -gun the bear
would surely escape. He therefore tied the
mule, a long-eared, melancholy mule, forty or
fifty years of age, to the body of the tree. The
mule was bridle-wise, but no bridle would
hold 11im, and a strong leathern cable was kept
coiled about his neck. With this be was fas?
tened to the tree. The farmer started to the
house, and Bruin, divining his plans, deemed
it pro per to get away. He doubtless suspected
that ? gun was coming. He came slowly
down, tearing the bark from the body of tbe
tree. It rattled about the sleepy mule's head,
wbo h id not yet seen the bear, and dreamed
not of tbe proximity of the ugly beast. Tbe
bear descended slowly till he was within five
feet of the mule's great ugly head. Then it
was that tbe stupid, innocent, unsuspecting'
mule looked up. He had never seen a bear
before. His knees smote cn? another. He
grew pale in the face. His eyes were projected
from ibis head?the farmer said?half a foot.
His tail was slowly lifted, the hairs all turned
awry, till it stood at an angle of forty-five de?
grees above his spinal column, and ihen it was
that the mule "hoved a sigh and smoled a
smile." It was an unearthly sound; tbe farm?
er, fifty yards away, says it seemed to shake
the ground where he stood, watching the pro?
gress of events. The bear suddenly twisted
itself about and leascended to its perch. The
mule swooningly fell at the base of the tree.
He lay still and apparently lifeless for a time,
when Bruin again attempted the descent; but
tbe te rrified mule bowled and roared even more
terribly, and piteously when the bark began to
fall, Mid he dashed and danced about tbe tree
so frf ntically that Bruin hesitated, and finally,
in stupefied amazement, sat upon the limb upon
which he first rested. The farmer came with
his rifle, and a bullet soon stopped tbe pulse
beats of the bear. It fell heavily beside the
mule, and strange to tell, as told to us, the
mule and bear died side by side?the one of a
mortui wound, tbe other of mortal terror. The
hear was still black as Erebus; the mule's face
was already white with an indescribable agony
of mortal fear.?Memphis Appeal.
A Good Story About Bob Toombs?Bob's
Opikiost OF Himself.?A gossipy correspon?
dent of the Cincinuati Commercial, writing
from Atlanta, gives the following:
The fiery and untamed Toombs has been
here several days, swearing at his enemies and
being jolly with his friends by turns. He is of
a lively and social disposition, and, when sur?
rounded by a dozen gay and festive companions,
his iongue runs like a bell-clapper. Some?
times be talks sense and sometimes nonsense.
He can talk either about as well as any man
in G iorgia.
1 heard a story about Toombs the other night
which deserves a place in history. A gang of j
legislators were around a festive board ex
charging ideas and cigar stumps. "Just at the
close of the war," said one, whose time it was
to tell something, "Toombs came down into
our county to get away from the Yankees.
They had destroyed his property and were after
him with sharp sticks. He stopped at my un?
cle's, and pretended to be a rich South Caro?
lina planter, moving about for his health. He
shaved close, cut his hair short, and wore a
broad-brimmed slouch bat Nobody but my
ancle knew who he was. My uncle kept a
little country postoffice, and the neighbors used
to come in and read the papers. One day one
of taetri sat down by old Bob and read the
particulars of Toomb's flight to Cuba, for it
was reported that he bad gone there. Old Bob
listened attentively. "I knew Toombs was too
sharp to stay here and let the Yankees catch
him," said' the innocent reader; "he'll spend
his days in Cuba. He is gone now, but 1 tell
you. boys, he was one of the smartest men we
evei had in this country." "Yes," said Toombs,
looking as innocent as a lamb, "he was a pretty
smart man; I knew him well. He was a little
peculiar sometimes, but as big a hearted fellow
as ever raised a boll of cotton. I wonder what
the Yankees would do if they should catch
him ?" "They would hang him to the nearest
limb," put in one of the boys. "And I ain't
sure but they ought to," put in another. At
this Toombs launched into an eloquent defence
of Toombs, the best I ever heard, and said he
would yet walk on Georgia soil, and lay his
bones under Georgia soil. The old fellow
warmed up considerably, and my uncle, seeing
the conversation was taking a rather personal
tun:, changed it. Toombs remained with us a
month, and was known only to one man. He
hea d himself talked about more in that month,
probably, than ever before.
Fecreation for Farmers.?Farmers nec?
essarily live at considerable distances from each
other, and in consequence of this, and their
habits of steady labor, confine themselves too
much to their own fields and firesides. They
and their families need recreation, need pleas?
ures, need something to counteract the efiect of
the constant labor in which they are engaged.
Tb? mechanic in the village or city has his
mind frequently drawn away from his work by
that which is going on around him ; but the
farmer, being differently situated, finds nothing
to break up the monotony, unless he seeks for
it elsewhere. It is quite probable that more
work would be accomplished, and a better tone
of feeling be experienced, to say nothing of
the more cheerful countenance which would
be vorn, if a half day each week were given to
social intercourse with fellow-farmers, instead
of devoting six full days each week to unre?
mitting labor. After a day spent pleasantly
away from home, the labor is not so irksome;
the laborer is happier. Allowing that as much
to not accomplished by giving a little time to
relaxation, it should be borne in mind that
food and raiment for the family, forage for the
stosk, and money for the bank are not the only
things worth striving for. We need happiness.
But if a portion of tnis time be given to a wide?
awake farmers' club, ideas will be gained, prac?
tical knowledge acauired, which in time will
bring about results far in excess of those which
will be realized by the fanner who does not
improve these opportunities.?Boston Iran
script.
? It is better to be on vied than to be pitied.
Fire and Flame.
Combustion is one of the most common and
Useful processes with which we are acquainted.
But what is combustion? What is the fire
that warms us; what is the flame that gives us
light? Fire, the ancients thought to be an ele?
ment, but they knew nothing of its real nature.
Fire, chemists now tell us, has no material ex?
istence. But the story is a long one. Let me
begin by telling you what I did one day in my
laboratory.
I put some pieces of zinc into a bottle, which
I then closed with a cork. Through this cork
there were two glass tubes, one of which would
let me pour any fluid I pleased into the bottle,
and the other would let any air or other gas
out, that wished to leave the bottle. When all
was ready, I poured some water into the bottle
and then a little "oil of vitrol." What a foam?
ing I One would have thought the fluid in the
bottle was being boiled by the strong heat of a
blazing fire, so violent was the agitation. At
the same time something was rapidly leaving
the bottle. I knew it by die blowing sound it
made, as if a stream of air were flowing from
the tube. What was it 7 I brought a lighted
match .over the tube from which the gas was
flowing; its flame was quickly put out, but lo I
the gas itself took fire and went on burning
like a chandelier flame, except that it gave a
much less brilliant light. Then I knew that it
was the gas called hydrogen. What next ?
I took a dry glass jar and held it, mouth
downward, over the name. It did not remain
dry for a moment. Almost as quick as thought
its sides were dimmed as if a cloud of steam
had settled upon them and covered them with
a dew. Indeed it was dew that moistened them,
for it was not long before I saw little drops of
water trickling along down the sides of the jar.
Where did this water come from ? It was not
on the jar before; it was not in the air within
it, and when I took the greatest care to dry the
gas before it issued from the tube, the moisture
came all the same, so that it did not come out
Of the bottle. Can you think of any other
source from which it could have come? Neither
I nor the young friends who were watching the
curious experiment could, and we had to be?
lieve that the water did not come from any
place, but that it was made just there in the
jar. Indeed the fiery flame of the burning hy?
drogen was a manufactory of water.
But what besides hydrogen is needed to form
water? I took a little drop of water to pieces
one day, that my young friends might see what
the fluid is made of. I did it by using elec?
tricity in a way which I will not stop to de?
scribe just now, but I will tell you what they
saw. In one glass tube, where I told them I
had caught one of the parts of the water, they
saw nothing more than if the tube had been
full of air, but when I touched alighted match
to its mouth they saw that it was not filled with
air, for a sudden explosion was heard and a
dull flame was seen. The tube was filled with
hydrogen. In the other glass tube, where I
told them I had caught the other part of the
water, they could Bee nothing, but when I
plunged a burning match into it the flame be?
came ten-fold brighter than before, and they
knew that the tube was not filled with air. In
fact, it was filled with oxygen.
By taking a drop of water to nieces I had ob?
tained hydrogen and oxygen. Water is made
up of these two gases. >iow let us ask again,
what besides hydrogen is needed in the name
to form the water which trickled along the
sides of my jar ? It is oxygen?a curious gas,
colorless as air itself and the vital part of the
air we breathe. The hydrogen from my bottle,
and the oxygen from the air, fell together and
formed the water in my jar. These were the
only substances used, yet fire was produced.?
The flame, what was it ? Not hydrogen, not
oxygen, not water surely, nothing at all mate?
rial. There is a strong attraction between the
atoms of hydrogen and oxygen, by which they
are pulled together. The violence of the action
warms them; indeed, it heats them to an in?
tense heat, and the glowing flame is the result
of it.
So fire and flame are not substance like stone
or wood or iron ; they are really nothing but
the swift trembling motions of the atoms of
substances while a powerful attraction is draw?
ing them into new relations.
Now let me tell you something to do for
yourself. ' Take a candle, not too tall, set its
wick on fire, let a few drops of its oil fall upon
the centre of a common plate and then press
the lower end of the candle upon it until it
hardens. Your lighted candle will now stand
alone upon the plate. Next take a fruit can
and put it, mouth downward, over the candle.
Your candle is now burning inside of the in?
verted jar. But see, the flame begins to lessen
in size and brightness. Dimmer and more dim
it becomes, until, while you still look at it, it
expires altogether. There can be no fire with?
out air, and when the caudle had burned up all
the air in the jar it could burn no longer. But
see, the sides of your jar are covered with
moisture 1 Water has been formed in this com?
bustion. What else?
Can you get a little lime? If possible, put
a little into a bottle of water, and, after shaking
it vigorously, let it stand quietly until it be?
comes clear. Then pour this clear lime-water
into the jar in which the candle flame has died.
Shake it a little; it is no longer clear like wa?
ter; it is now turbid, and its color is more like
that of milk. What has happened? Another
thing besides water has formed in the combus?
tion ; it is a substance commonly called car?
bonic acid.
Now those two things, water aud carbonic
acid, are formed in every fire that burns. Fuel,
of almost every kind, consists of hydrogen and
carbon chiefly, aud the atmosphere contains an
abundance of oxygen. Hydrogen and oxygen
unite to form water; carbon and oxygen unite
to form carbonic acid.
The violence, or rather the rapidity of these
combinations is a source of heat, sometimes the
heat of the glowing coals; sometimes that of
the restless name.
Bio Ha?l of Polecats.?During the late
rise in the Yuba River, J. W. Briggs, while
Eassing over a low strip of land on the Grass
ros.' ranche, met with what he called a "drove
of polecats." They had evidently been driven
from their burrows by water, and when ap?
proached by the discoverer they trotted along
before him like a drove of pigs. Finally they
all plunged into one hole. Mr. Bruggs being
aware that the animal is often buutedoy Chi?
namen, and that polecats' galls were rated at
$.") each by Celestial physicians, he informed a
couple of Chinamen what had occurred, and
pointed out the locality of the burrow to them.
The Chiuamen provided themselves with shov?
els and commenced to dig on the line of the
hole. After excavating a pit about ten feet in
depth and three wide they struck upon the
nest of the-polccats. Notwithstanding the al?
most overpowering odor filling the air, one after
another they were dispatched, until ten large
polecats lay dead at the feet of the fortunate
and victorious Chinamen.?Marysville Appeal.
? A Georgia negro was overpaid one hun?
dred dollars on a check by a bank, and he has
returned the money. The local paper says this
is another evidence that the race can never be
civilized.
How Farmers May Co-Operate.
Farmer Jones invites farmers Smith, Brown
and Robinson to drop in of an evening, and
they have a chat. Of course the subjects dis?
cussed are those in which they hold a common
interest?stock, crops, the results of labors and
experiences, and their hopes and plans for the
future. The interchange of ideas is mutually
entertaining and instructive, and they desire
that the conference may, like a Ledger story,
be continued, so farmer Smith asks the compa?
ny to meet next week at his house. Other
friends drop in, and thus it comes about in a
very natural way, that the farmers' club is
instituted with no parade or noise?grows, in
fact, like Topsy. This is the whole affair;
rules, by-laws, places of meeting to accommo?
date growing numbers, are mere matters of con?
venience provided for as the occasion may ar?
rive. Three years ago a club at Elmira, N. Y.,
was commenced with seven members. It has
100 members now, who meet weekly during
Winter, and at longer intervals during Sum?
mer ; who possess already 1,000 volumes and
add yearly to the library fund $600. The re?
sult is that this Club has introduced improved
stock and new seeds and implements; that val?
uable experiments have been tried and their
issues noted and discussed. A farmers' club in
Connecticut has kept up its organization for 14
ears continuously; another on Long Island
as, during the past few seasons, purchased at
wholesale over $60,000 worth of fertilizers for
the use of its members, saving thereby a third
of that large sum.
A recent convention of a farmers' club in
Illinois had delegates from 11 local associa?
tions, whose members aggregated 1,000 ranging
from 38 to 300 for each. Several of these
clubs co-operate in buying supplies at a large
saving in cost Now these are illustrative ca?
ses of the thousands of associations among
intelligent and enlightened farmers. But only
a commencement has been made as yet This
co-operation is not exceptional, and not until
there is a farmers' club in every township
throughout America, or possibly several, will
the work attain completeness. Think of the
business to come before the farmers in these
associations. Our English brethren have
found a vast profit in them, and many compa?
nies own engines and plows worth $20,000,
with which their fields are plowed at an ex?
pense of $2 per acre, and dividends 25 per
cent, paid each year on the cost of machinery.
Our stock is in an immediate need of im?
provement. Horses, cows, sheep, and hogs
Eay now not half the profit they might if the
est and most suitable breeds were used. Thor?
oughbred animals cost much money, but by
co-operation may easily be procured, as has
been done by the Elmira Club, before referred
to. Insurance against fire by such co-operative
associations is a common thing throughout
Pennsylvania, and in that way is established
the cheapest and most trustworthy insurance
company possible to conceive of. When there
is no lose no premiums are paid ; when there is
a loss it is divided among the whole number
insured, and the veriest trifile from each builds
up the brother's barn again, or pays for his
stack of grain. It is needless to say more ;
but we urge farmers to think of these things,
see how they are done, and "act accordingly."
The Glory of the Farmer.?The benefits
conferred upon mankind by the farmer, and the
pleasure which attaches to his vocation, are
charmingly portrayed by Ralph Waldo Emer?
son, in oue of his essays, as follows:
The glory of the farmer is that, in the divis?
ion of labor, it is his part to create. All the
trade rests on his primitive authority. He
stands close to nature; he obtains from the
earth the bread and the meat The food which
was not he caused to be. The first farmer was
the first man, and all historic nobility rests on
Eossession and use of land. Men do uot like
ard work, but every man has an exceptional
respect for tillage, and the feeling that this is
the original calling of his race, that he himself
is only excused from it by some circumstances
which made him delegate it for a time to other
hands. If he has not some skill which recom?
mends him to the farmer, some product for
which the farmer rill give him corn, he must
himself return into his due place among the
planters. And the profession has in all eyes
its incident charms as standing nearest to God,
the First Cause. Then the beauty of nature',
the tranquility and innocence of the country?
men, his independence, and the pleasing arts?
the cares of bees, of poultry, of sheep, of cows;
the dairy, the care of hay, of fruits, of orch?
ards and forests, and the re-action of these on
the workman in giving him a strength and
plain dignity, like the face and manners of
nature, all men acknowledge. All men keep
the farm in reserve as an asylum, where, in
case of mischance, to hide the property or a
solitude if they do not succeed in society. And
who knows bow many glances of remorse are
turned this way from the bankrupts of trade,
from mortified pleaders in courts and senates,
or from the victims of idleness and pleasure.
Poisoned by town life and vices, the sufferers
resolve; "Well my children, whom I have
injured, shall go back to the land, to be recruit?
ed and cured by that which should have been
my nursery, and now shall be their hospital."
Tunneling the Mississippi.?It is pro?
posed to tunnel the Ohio and Mississippi rivers
near their junction, in order to facilitate rail?
way movements. A company for that purpose
has been formed, with a capital of $10,000,000,
aud has applied to Congress for an act of incor?
poration. Among the capitalists who have lent
the scheme their support are Thomas Scott (of
course) and J. N. McCullagh, of Pennsylvania,
J. Pierpont Morgan, of New York, General
Burnside, and W. B. Curtin and W. F. Cool
baugh, of Illinois. This is a gigantic enter?
prise, greater than that of tunneling the Thames
at London, but money and "spunk" seem able
these days to accomplish anything, save the
purification of the public morals. If some
moral Tom Scott (excuse the phraseology)
could successfully tunnel the obtuse consciences
of our Congressmen, probably the improvement
in our political and other affairs would be im?
mediately obvious and reward him in the
praises of the people. But where is the party
to be found who will "bell the cat?" Oakes
Ameses and Smiler Colfaxes in the constituen?
cies make Oakes Ameses and Smiler Colfaxes
in Congress. Scoundrels, like trees, do not
suddenly appear; they thrive and grow in con?
genial soil.
Good.?"I was to ask you, Hannah, whether
it, was really true or not that you were engaged
to be married to the deacon's son, young Timo?
thy Upham. I said I'd ask you the very next
time I seen you. I told Jerusha that I didn't
know myself whether it was true or not. What
shall I say to her when I sec her 1" "You tell
Jerusha," was the reply of the handsome,
blushing buxom Yankee damsel, "that you did
ask Hannah, aud that she told you it was none
of your business whether it was true or not"
? "Don't you discover a determination of
blood to the head?" inquired a hard-drinking
man of a doctor he was consulting. "No,
said the doctor, "but I think I discover a de
termiuation to get drunk." 1
Exit Bine Ridge Scrip.
The decision of the Judges of the Supreme
Court in the Blue Ridge Scrip has not jet been
filed, but intimations have reached us, from
what we conceive to be entirely reliable sources,
of the general scope of the judgment upon
which the Judges have determined. Reports
to the effect that the mandamus askeu for
would be refused have been published in all
the daily papers. We have received further
information, to the effect that the decision of
the Court will strike to the heart of the sub?
ject, and declare the scrip unconstitutional, as
being in violation of the Constitution of the
United States, which declares that no State
shall emit a bill of credit, and of the Constitu?
tion of the State, which provides that no pub?
lic debt shall be created save by way of bonds,
&c. If this be the scope of the decision, as
we are advised it is, not only must the manda?
mus be refused, but the scrip is killed entirely,
and the case which comes up on appeal from
the Circuit Court in relation to it is practically
ended, and the scrip is dead forever.
If this be true, and we have now but little
doubt of it, a great point has been gained, and
the State is relieved of a swindle of near two
millions of dollars. We claim to have a share
of the glory of this victory for honesty and the
State. While we have done our part, however,
in defeating this nefarious scheme, there are
others, prominent members of the dominant
political party, to whom great, if not the great?
est, credit is due for the success of this strug?
gle against the Shylocks who have endeavored
to fasten the scrip as a debt upon the State.
These men are the leading officials of the
present administration?prominently, Attorney
General Melton, Treasurer Cardoza, Comptrol?
ler H?ge, and even Governor Moses seems to
have stood up staunchly to the rack, in this
instance at least It is our purpose, so far as
we can, and it has been our promise to make
due acknowledgment of whatever good, in our
judgment, the administration may do, as it is
to unsparingly condemn them for what appears
to us to be corrupt or evil. In this view, it is
meet for us to express, in relation to the suc?
cessful issue of this scrip, our high gratification
at the course pursued by the officials we have
named. We think they ought to be encour?
aged in well doing, for, to our jaundiced con?
ception it is about as difficult for a Republican
official in South Carolina to follow the line of
duty and of the State's iuteresto, as it is for a
rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.
If one of their party shows the least sign of
independence, immediately his political influ?
ence wanes, and once he is suspected of hon?
esty he is politically damned. Such has been
our observation in the past four years. Per?
haps a change for the better has come now.
We hope so.
There will be a good many parties injured by
the destruction of the scrip. There are, first,
the bondholders, and secondly, those who pur?
chased and held the scrip. They claim equi?
ties as innocent holders for valuable considera?
tion upon the credit of the State. So far as
the purchasers of scrip are concerned, we do
not see where they can have the least claim
upon the"State. They bought the scrip as a
speculation. If they have lost, there is no
reason why the State should make their losses.
?;ood. If they had won, they would have
aughed at the idea of paying the State back
the discount at which they bought the scrip.
Since they have lost, the State will laugh at
the idea of reimbursing them for what they
invested at the venture.?South Carolinian.
Value of Geesk as Farm Stock.?To the
cotton farmer, geese are the most valuable of
all domesticated fowls. Ten gosliugs are fully
equal to the best hoc-hand in the cotton patch.
They will keep ten acres of ground perfectly
clean of grass, if the ploughing is properly
done. The most careful hoe*hand will bruise
and skin cotton more or less, but geese will
carefully pick all the grass from the young
cotton without injuring it in the least I am
surprised that farmers do not make more and
better use of them. They pay for the keeping
many times over in killing grass uj>on which
they fatten ; are salable in market, and a luxu?
ry upon the table.
A farmer in my neighborhood, who knows
their value, was offering last spring four dollars
a pair for common geese, to put in his cotton
field.
Since the war, I have raised all the geese I
could, conveniently, and, principally, for the
purpose of working cotton. And more than
once, when it would have been impossible for
me to have saved my crop with the labor at my
control, they saved it. I find the large white
Bremen not only the most beautiful of all the
varieties, but the best "workers," and easily
raised. I would advise every farmer to have
his flock of geese, and pure Bremen, if he can
procure them. They will work his cotton well
without watching, and will save him a good
deal of tedious work or money. It is a beauti?
ful sight to see thirty or forty Bremen geese in
a field of cotton carrying their rows almost as
regular as hoe-hands. Any farmer who plants
twenty or thirty acres of cotton, will never be
without geese after once testing their value.
The greatest objection to them is that they have
not forgotten that deafening quack with which
their ancestors saved Rome. Any unusual sight
or noise about the premises, will put the whole
flock to quacking.?Plantaiwn.
Sawing Hard Rock.?By means of a re?
cently invented and most ingenious saw, the
hardest varieties of rock may be cut into slabs
with the greatest ease and rapidity, the speed
of cutting being some ten to thirty times great?
er than by any other means heretofore em
Sloved. This machine, called the reciprocating
iamond saw, will, it is claimed, make a nar?
rower kerf, produce an average better quality
of work, saw the material as thin as desired,
and all this for one-third of the power and cost
usually required. The cost of diamon-setting
in this machine is stated to be less than for the
sand and iron necessary to do the same quanti?
ty of work by the old method; and in sawing
marble this cost will, it is claimed, be wholly
covered by the value of the marble dust ob?
tained. On granite aud other rocks too hard
for the sand-sawing operation, and in a wide
range of work done exclusively by hand, the
economy is still greater. The diamonds re?
main in a long time, and any that come out
are caught in a wire gauze sieve and can be
reset. The chief peculiarity of this mode of
of operation is making the diamonds cut one
way only?withdrawing them from contact
with the stone before the beginning of the re?
turn stroke. Without this provision the debris
is carried backward and forward within the
cut, choking the blade, wearing away the
setting of the diamonds, and hindering them
from getting down properly to their work.
Besides this, when cutting both ways, the dia?
monds are struck or pressed, first one way and
then the other, and soon become loose.
? Boarding house chicken soup can be
made, it is said, by hanging up a hen in the
sun, so that her shadow shall fall into a pot of
salt water. The only trouble is, that on a
cloudy day, the 6oup is liable to be weak.