University of South Carolina Libraries
BY E. B. MURRAY & CO. ANDERSON, S. C THURSDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 7, 1884._VOLUME XIX.-NO. 30. Letter from Germany. ?h Uior Intelligencer: Leipzig, Gebmany, Jan. 2,1884. Leipzig has one hundred and sixty thousand inhabitants. It is situated in a fiat and somewhat Bandy but fertile coun? try, and is surrounded by prosperous manufacturing towns of twelve to twenty thousand inhabitants. In Lindenau, a town of about twelve thousand inhabit? ants, within less than half a mile from this city, I noticed eight tall furnace chimneys within a circumference of a few hundred yards, and in Plagwitz, a city adjacent to Lindenau, are large wa? gon, iron and other manufactories. Like Goettingen, Leipzig has an old and a new part, though there is no line here which substantially makes the di? vision between the old and the new, as the wall around the older part of Goet? tingen does. However, the observer needs no such determining feature. The difference in the style, cost and appear* ance of the buildings, together with the broader and more regular streets of the newer portion, are apparent to every? one. Some of the streets of the older portion of the city, are broader and long? er than the others, and are, accordingly, denominated, "strasse" (street); others,, neither so broad uor so long, are denom? inated "gasse" (lane), and others, still narrower/by the diminutive of "gasse," which, is "gaesscben" (little lane or alley). ? some of the older cities of Genna-' ny, it is quite possible for people living on opposite sides of these narrowest ''alleys" to shake hands with each other from their respective houses. But so great a proximity of the bouses is found in bat-few of the cities of Germany and in the oldest alleys only. I believe none of the alleys of Leipzig are so narrow, though some are hardly broad enough to allow wagons to pass persons on foot. At present, in some of the cities of Ger? many, there are laws regulating the erec? tion of houses and the width of the streets, which have in view, not only the prevention of such narrow streets iu the future, but the widening so far as possi? ble of the old, narrow passages. In Leipzig it is the rule that a house shall not be built higher than the street is broad, provided it is erected immediately .upon the street. It is further the law that the owners of houses, upon some of these narrow ways, which the city seeks to convert into streets of good width, may not increase the height of the build? ings, and that every new building must be placed far enough back of the old line to afford the required width of street when all the old buildings on both sides shall have been removed aad new ones built. It is also required, under certain regulations, that if a house situated on the old line becomes so old that it must be taken down, the owner may not build a new house upon , the ground occupied , by the old one, but must erect it upon the new line. This last requisition has the tendency of keeping many old houses upon' the streets so sought to be widened, but as the house, in most instances, may be built taller by being moved back, there is also a counter inducement to build & new house. But there is a por? tion of the city where little change is to be expected, and where some of the houses are several times higher than the streets are broad. This portion is some? what small, however, and the same fea? ture is observable in perhaps most of the old cities. Much more regard is had at present to the healthful as well as sesthetical condi? tion of the cities than formerly. In fact, some of the German physicians have given estimates as to the direction in which the streets should run in order to have the greatest amount of sunshine and to be penetrated most thoroughly by the most usually prevalent winds. The manufacturing and educational claims of the city are great. Situated upon two small rivers, the Pleisse and the Elster, from which two canals are conducted through the city, it has a considerable amount of water pow? er, which is well utilized. The principal motor, however, is steam, and the manu? factories using steam are always able to compete with those using water as a mo? tive power. Leipzig claims to have the largest bus? iness in fur goods in the world. Here it may not be out of place to remark that soft felt hats rarely, if ever, cost more than nine "marks," or about two dollars and a quarter. The fur from which this felt is made is that of the European hare, an animal .which I have never seen in America. It is like our rabbit, but is three or four times as large, and would, perhaps, weigh from six to twelve pounds. The hats made from this fur are not as smooth and flexible as our best quality of felt hals, bat cost only half so much ; some of the cheapest costing about fifty cents. The hare is a very common ani? mal, and is often fouud in the market for sale, as an article of food, though not in such numbers as the rabbits of Balti? more. In mentioning this little coutributor to the hat industry, I do not mean, of course, to suggest that it has any percept? ible bearing npon the great fur trade of Leipzig, which comes from Russia on the one side, and America on the other. Much felt is sent here from America, where it is prepared for market and re shipped for the American markets. The cost of paper and printing here is comparatively small. Books are accord? ingly cheap, and two establishments in the city claim to have as large a book trade as can be found anywhere. In tie city are two large parks?"Jo? hanna Park" and "Rosenthal," and in the latter a zoological garden of no special merit. These parks afford pleas? ant drives and walks, and iu each are fine groves, consisting principally of white oaks. Not far from here is an oak so great as to require six persons, with joined bands, to reach around it. It is called "grosse eiche" (great oak). A pleasant path through the forest leads to it, and numerous signboards point out the way "to the great oak." The parks are not handsome, though they afford fine opportunity for recreation in the open air, and "Rosenthal" has a pond much enjoyed by the skaters, when the weather is suitable for this sport. There are set eral ponds for this purpose here, and the city has devoted one to the use of poor children, who are unable to pay fur the privilege of skating. Many of the public buildings and some private residences are of stone or stone fronts, and are quite handsome. The Court House of this circuit adjoins the jail and church, where service for the imprisoned has been provided for, and U a very handsome stone building. This city, as your readers may know, is the seat of the Supreme Court of the German Empire. The Court halls are situated one story high from the' ground, generally called by us "second story," but by the Germans "eine treppe" (one pair of steps). In the rower story are business houses, and the building is not very fine in appearance. A new hall ia to be built for this Court, which has not been organized for many years. . The Theater is a handsome stone build? ing in the Renaissance style, but is not to be compared to the Royal Theater in Dresden, which is one of the handsomest in the world. The Museum, which is opposite the Theater, is said to be very fine, but has been closed since October, in consequence of work upon the building. The large, open, unpaved, unimproved square, be? tween the Theater and Museum, is the Augustus Platz, which is reserved by the j city to rent to those who take part in the "Messe"?a Fair, of which I will write in a subsequent communication. The city possesses two bronze monu? ments of considerable merit: one is that recently erected to the memory of the great jurist, Leibnitz, and the other is that known as "The Luther Monument," which was unveiled upon 'he four hun? dredth anniversary of Luther's birthday. This monument represents Luther seated and holding a book in bis hand, while Melancbthon stands by his side, holding a document and bending forward to show it to Luther. The figures are much be? yond life size, and are mounted upon a square, pyramidal section of colored granite, into the sides of wbiqh are placed plates of bronze with dates, which are connected with some of the more prominent events of the reformation. The monument was designed and finished by the renowned sculptor, Prof. Schill? ing, of Dresden, who was also the sculp? tor of the famous monument and sur? mounting figure, "Germania," recently placed upon the "Niederwald" on the Rhine, to commemorate the victory of the Germans over the French, 1871. At the unveiling of the Luther monu? ment on the 10th of November, 1883, the procession was the largest I have ever seen. By order of the City Council, the Professors and students of the Uni? versity headed the procession, and the various associations and societies of the business men of the city followed in their appointed order. The houses of Leipzig are usually of brick, and a few of them are faced with stone. The roofs are for the most part of tile?some are of slate or other mate? rial. Wooden houses or roofs aro not often seen. Tin roof* are not so frequent as with us. In the country here as in Belgium and France, one sees occasion? ally a thatch roof, but the etymology of the word "thatch," which is connected with the German word "dach," meaning "roof," suggests its primitive use. A few private houses hero are built only two stories high, and are occupied by single families, but most of the houses ! are built directly upon the street, and are usually from four to five stories high. ; The lower floor is often used for a store or other business, and the families live above. It is usually the case that one family occupies one or two stories, and another family the story next higher, and a third the story next higher, and so on ; one staircase aud one door of exit from the house serving for all the families. There are, therefore, fewer doors of exit than we usually find in America, and many of the blocks of houses look very much like the business blocks of our cities. -The custom of families occupy? ing a story, or stories, of a house aud not the entire house is, primarily, a matter of economy, but the houses are erected with this manner of living in view, which gives rise in the principal differences be? tween the new houses here aud many of J those in our own country. This mode of I living is also furthered by the fact that I these different stories are often built and owned by different persons. Upon the octagonal, brick cupola of the "Thomas" church, at a height of per? haps a hundred feet, dwells a man and family, whose business it is to keep the fiie watch. This man occupies himself in his dwelling at a trade of some sort, and his wife and children seem to enjoy their "high life." At some subsequent time I will write of the educational position of Leipzig, and of the Fair denominated "Messe." J. S. M., Jr. Why He Attracted Attention.-? A slightly absent minded but highly re? spectable gentleman near the suburbs of Columbia started out for a stroll yester? day, and after getting a short distance from home be discovered that he was at? tracting great attention. Somewhat sur? prised, he took an inventory of his per? sonal appearauce, when he was horrified to behold that he had on his best coat and hat but bad forgotten to put on his pants, aud it was bis red flannel drawers which attracted so much attention. The gentleman hastily escaped to cover, and kept in the house all the next day.? Columbia Register. ? Never take a crooked path while you can see a straight one. LONG TIME AGO. Tho Days of tho Cherokee Indian- In South Carolina. Dr. Maurice A. Moore, in the Yorkville En? quirer. It was in the summer of 1776, a battal? ion composed mostly of men from York, was ordered to oppose the Cherokee In? dians, who had been induced through the machinations of two Scotchmen, Alexander Cameron and John Stewart, to espouse the British side, and raise the war club. This body of men was under the command of Major Frank Boss. It was in July they took up their line of march, and before they arrived at the "Block House," in the Northeastern part of Greenville district, the residence of Colonel Height, an Indian trader, they met with the exciting 'ntrlligence of the murder of Colonel Height?a Whig ?the pillaging of the station, and the abduction of Mrs. Height and her two daughters, by the savages. In addition to these awful tidings, they heard tbe tale of tbe murder of a son of Colonel Heigth, which caused the heart of each brave soldier to beat with sympathy and a desire to avenge these outrages. Young Height had heard of the base purposes of Cameron and Stewart which contemplated a risiog of the Indians; and having from boyhood known the chiefs of the Cherokee* intimately, he hoped to have influence enough to undo tbe work of the wily Scotchmen, and fearlessly vent alone to the Keowee towns, for tbe purpose of persuading them against taking the war-path. He was too late. The evil spirit was not to be subdued, and not only were his efforts ?8 peace-maker among them unavailing, but they barbarously murdered the unof? fending youth, who had confidingly gone iu tbeir midst. His early death was the more sad, because of tho broken life and wrecked hopes that fell upon another. He was affianced to Susan Parris, the daughter of another Indian trader, whose post was at another "Block House," sit? uated where the town of Greenville, S. C, now stands. After tbe deed of .blood, like tbe wild animal smeared with crimson gore, the insatiate thirst of their appetites must be appeased. The Cherokees set out to carry horror and desolation along our frontier settlements. One of their first encampments was at the bouse of Parris. He being a tory they looked upon him as a friend and confederate, and told him of tbeir slaying young Height, unfolding, too, their plan to kill his father and de? stroy all his property. The heart of gentle Susan Parris was fairly paralyzed by the unexpected blow of her lover's death. But woman like, she forgot her own woes to avert disaster and sorrow from others. Those threatened now were doubly dear by their common loss. She quickly fell upon a plan to savs them. From her father, on account of his politics, she knew she need not look for assistance. Therefore, unaided, she must achieve her design. As soon ml dark came, she took a horse from tho ?tables, and all womanly fears being swallowed up in ber great apprehension for the fate of her friends, through tbe dark, wild fore?t paths she hurried along hoping to apprise them of the threatened calamity in time to enable them to es? cape it. Sad indeed, to relate, her act of hetoism was in vain. Tbe Indians knowing the relations existing between Susan Parris and the murdered, on dis? covering a horse had been taken from the stable, and guessing who had done it, surmised her design and destination. They hurriedly gave the alarm to the others, broke up their encampment, went through a nearer way, and when she ar? rived a bleeding, lifeless form, and smok? ing ruins, told her agonized heart her efforts to save were fruitless. Major Ross pushed on with his com? mand in the hone of rescuing Mrs. Height aud her daughters, from their captivity. As they passed Parris' Sta? tion, it was with difficulty he could re? strain his men from visitiDg on Parris tbe fate of tbe dead trader. But the brave attempt of Susan Parris to save the Heights, and sympathy for her sorrows, induced them to hold her father and his property sacred and pass bim unmolest? ed. Some miles beyond Reedy river, the battalion joined General Williamson, who had twelve or fifteen hundred men under his command. The combined forces proceeded rapidly, and as they drew near the Keowee towns, every effort was made to avoid falling into any am? buscade which might be laid by their cunning foe. An advanced guard was composed of one hundred and twenty five men, with an addition of twenty-five Catawba Indians, who were valuable auxiliaries in Buch a campaign as this. They were placed in the front ranks, and with the characteristic caution of their mode of warfare would often pause in the march, and examine with tbe greatest care the bark on the tallest trees, to as? certain if they had been recently ascend? ed ; for it was the practice of the South? ern Indians, in tbeir warfare, to have a certain number of "climbers" to look out, as well as "runners" to bring in news. It was not long before they descended a cove. Here tbe Catawbas made a halt, and pointing to the wild pea vine, and rank weeds freshly broken and trampled upon, which gave evidence that some numbers of feet bad recently traversed this place, they advised that tbe advance guards should remain here until themain body of the army came up. But the whites were impatient to go on ; and al? though the Indians insisted on going no further, they were finally overcome by persuasion, and again took up the line of march. The trail now descended into a small valley covered with grass, situate between two bald mountains aud by a gushing rivulet. Following tho course of the branch awhile, they came to the spring around which large smooth rocks were lying in abundance. The quick eye of the savage warrior was caught direct? ly by a few corn-field beans scattered here and there, which attracted their attention, a minute survey showed them on a flat rock the foot print of a naked foot. It being noon day, and tbe rock fully ex? posed to the scorching rays of a July sun, it was incontrovertible proof that the enemy was near at hand. The Indians now refused to go on till the remainder of the army came up, which by this tims was two or tbree miles in the rear. This refusal of the Indians to advance caused a parley of half an hour or more, when a proposition was made by a young Frenchman, an aide-de-camp of Moul trie's named St. Pierrie, who was a vol? unteer in tbe expedition, that the captain of the advance guard should lead on the men. The captain hesitated to take the responsibility of so hazardous an under? taking. "I will lead 1" at last exclaimed the impetuous St. Pierre, "if the rest follow." To this all readily acceded. Accordingly he went forward, following tbe plainly marked trail. This lead di? rectly up a bald mountain, with no growth, except rank grass and wild pea vines higher than a man's head. Iu single file, with trailed arms, and in perfect silence, they ascended the moun? tain. They bad gone about four hundred yards, when *pn*n! .vent the report of a . rifle, and the rash, but brave and gener? ous St. Pierrie fell dead. A quick sue . cession of shots reverberated from cliff j to cliff, poured forth from the guns of 1 the concealed Cberokees. The clamor ; was enhanced by their yells, producing a I terrific effect. The whites found them : selves "each man hia own commander," ' and in their confusion, leaving the path J beaten down by their feet on their ascent, l ran heiter skelter through the long grass : and luxuriant pea vines, making poor speed, as they thought, for at every ten or twelve steps they would become so en? tangled in the vines, that the only way to extricate themselves quickly, was to hold their guns tightly in front against their thighs, throwing themselves forward and roll, heels over head, rise as quickly as possible and run, then when again entwined, another somersault and race. The hostile Indians had planted them? selves throughout the tall grass above, with tomahawks and scalping knives in hand, and seeing their foet rolling and tumbling pell-mell down the mountain, of course imagined them to be severely wounded, and bounded forward to finish them with a tomahawk and secure the I coveted scalp, for which the british gov I eminent, to their shame is it recorded, i gave a guinea apiece. Major Boss was with the advance guard, probably the commander, till the j Toluntary assumption of that position by young St. Pierrie in the disastrous at? tempt just recorded. He was among those who rolled to the bottom, and in a little ravine was attacked by an Indian. They grappled. In the struggle both dropped their weapons, but not till from both the blood was flowing freely; the Indian, was less muscular, but naked and greased?a custom of Cherokee warriors ?and holding him was like holding an eel. The savage was about'-\o gain the advantage, when a soldier, coming up, (or rather rolling down), saw "tho situa? tion," clubbed his musket and knocked the Indian down. Major Boss, faint from loss of blood, fell at the same time. He had received a blow on the head from the Indian's tomahawk which he thought fractured hia skull, and believed death was upon him. By this time the Cbero? kees had ceased the pursuit and with? drawn up 'the mountain. The men, bruised, wearied and disheartened gath? ered atound the Major, who was a man much beloved, among them the Surgeon. After a short examination be exclaimed, "Pooh I Ross, you can talk; now if you can bite, your head's not broke and you'll not die." The Major seized the finger the good Doctor thrust in his mouth and bit so vigorously that the old Surgeon screamed loudly with pain. All felt per? fect confidence in the Doctor's surgery, never doubted bis theory, and were de? lighted at the evidence afforded of their friend's certain recovery. Boss, himself, felt much improved by his successful ef? fort, was helped to his feet, and walked to where bis late antagonist was lying, who, though in the agonies of death, grinned defiance at hia adversary. Boss took the Indian's tomahawk, and to ter? minate hia mortal sufferings, buried it in his brain. The main body of the army having arrived, they forthwith, though with more precaution, pursued the Cherokees up the mountains, but did not overtake them that day. Late in the evening they arrived at the first Keowee town, containing about seventy-five wigwams. The entire population bad fled, and the only human being to be seen, was an old Indian squaw, whom 'they secured as prisoner, and after nulling green corn from the smiling tielas, sufficient to feed their horses, destroyed what remained growing, and burned the huts to the ground. They placed the old woman or\ an Indian pony and directed her to pilot them to the nearest Indian town, promis? ing to let her go uninjured, if she did their bidding, but threatening death, if she dealt treacherously with them. The old squaw smiled with contempt at their overtures and warnings; and when the encampment broke up next morning, and the men started on the march, they felt it was \.ith an ambiguous smile the' old woman beckoned them on. All day through a most broken and rugged country, the army pressed for? ward, still incited by the hope of the re? capture of Mrs. Height and her two daughters ; twilight found them two or three miles from the town, where the Cherokees had assembled. As night came on the old guide led them into nar? row defiles, amongst fallen trees, broken rocks, and here and there, a precipice. It was useless to try and proceed. The troops could not travel through the dark in such a trail, besides they felt satisfied the sauaw had missed them, and they must halt for the night, with their arms in their bands ready for use, for they were, by this time, in sight of the town, could plainly see the Indian fires, here their fiendish yells, and later in the night, v.'hat was indeed heart rending to them, they could hear the wailing and screams of a female voice. This drove the offi? cers and men to fair desperation, for the wild country and darkness were such that, although many made superhuman exer? tions, they could not find their way across rock and chasm, that encountered them at each step, and rendered their attempts to proceed worse than useless. At the first glimmering of day they pushed on, and before sunrise they were at the Indi? an town ; it was deserted, but the naked corpse of the ill-fated Mrs. Height lay not far from the fire, around which, through the night, the cruel savages had danced their war dance, and ended the sufferings of their poor victim. A sol? dier pulled off his coat and threw it over her body. They dug a grave and piously buried her near the scene of her sad death. For a few days longer our men pursued the savages, then reluctantly gave up the effort; but in returning, completely devastated the Indian country ?burning all the towns and destroying the green corn?after which the little army was disbanded. Not long after, the Cherokees sued for peace, and were compelled to cede their lands beyond the mountains of "Una cays," to South Carolina, of which are now composed the counties of Greenville, Anderson and Pickens. The daughters of Col. Height were sold from one tribe to another, and at last got to the Mississippi river, where a French trader happily met, and benevo? lently, bought them from the Indians and carried them to New Orleans, whence ho Bent them to their relatives in South Carolina, five years alter the massacre of their parents. ? Compositors are the most generous people in the world. They are always setting em' up. Washington, D. C, May 15,1SS0. Gentlemen?Having been a sufferer for a long time from nervous prostration and general debility, I was advised to try Hop Bitters. I have taken oue bottl?,. and I have been rapidly getting better ever since, and I think it the best medi? cine I ever used. I am now gaining strength and appetite, which was all gone, and I was in despair until I tried your Bitters. I am now well, able to go about and do my own work. Before taking it, I was completely prostrated. Mrp. Mary Stuart. THOSE BOYS. Arp Relates HIa Experience With Them. Atlanta Constitution. How can a man ruminate and be a philosopher and luminate bis thoughts upon paper when numerous and lovely offspring of all sizes aud sexes are danc? ing around the room to tho music, and laughing and squealing and squalling, and every now and then an infantile haul is heard as one of the little chaps gets a bump on tbe floor. It is all a part of the battle of life, and every patriarch must fight it out on that line and be recon? ciled. You can tame one child, but you can't tame a dozen when they they are all in a bunch. There is no getting away from 'em here by day or night, in this kind of weather, for they must stay in the house, and every room belongs to 'em, and if I lock 'em out they beg and bang at the door until I get sorry and have to let 'em in. So every night I turn 'em all in to tbe big parlor and let 'em frolic un? til they tire down and get sleepy, and then peace reigns in Warsaw until morn? ing. I am scrouged up, right now, in the -chimney corner in a big arm chair trying to write while these hilarious chaps of two generations are makiug enough racket to make a lunatic asylum ashamed of itself. I often wonder if any other patriarch has such a lively irre? pressible Bet around him. Does anybody else's children Blara tbe doors as bard and talk as much and get hungry asoften and are as everlastingly on tbe go, mov? ing to and fro like a fiddler's elbow. Mrs. Arp says they get it all from tbeir paternal ancestor, and tells bow I get up in tbe morning with the chickens and go bruising around and shutting doors and riuging the breakfast bell before break? fast is put on, and ever and anon peep? ing in at her bed room door to see whether she is awake or asleep. "Of course I am awake," says she, "for how could anybody Bleep after you get up, the very time of all times when I want to sleep." "My anxiety," said I, "my anxiety about you for fear you are sick or perad venture are dead, and then besides I am so awful lonesome without you." Mrs. Arp never replies to the like of that, but she looks at me, she does. As a hen gatherith her brood under her wings, so doth Mrs. Arp look after her brood. She knows no other joy, and is everlastingly working over some old garment and making it anew. Carl is strutting around now in a bran new over? coat that looks like it come from the tailor's, and it was cut down from one of my old coats. What would have become of the children if they had never had any mothers; who would scold 'em when they deserved it, and take it all back when they put on a penitential face ; who is just about to whip 'em forty times a day, and winds up with sugar or candy or apples or something else she has hid away; who exclaims with pitiful horror, merciful heavens! and did I ever I aud what is to become of you ? and didn't I tell you to keep out of that branch? Who washes their chapped hands and annoiots 'em with glycerine and vaso line, and puts 'em to bed and lucks the covor all around 'em so good, and then spreads on another quilt before she goes to bed herself? Who makes 'em set down by her and spell and read, and then explain it all as they get into deep water and can't fathom the nig words ? Who teaches 'em manners and how to behave and repeat it over and over again every ? day and all the year round and never gets tired ? How these boys do strut round and brag and play the hero when tbey begin to wear gallusses and can aboot a gun and have killed their first birds. "Dog my cat if I can't wheel a bully load of wood to the house. I can wheel more'n you can." "Bet you five dollars you can't. I can wheel more'n a mule can pull, dog'd if I cau't." "Confound that confounded old nail, it's tore my coat, and grandma will go for me. I'm going to get Aunt Honey to sew it up." "That dingnation old billy goat went and throw'd me this morning. I was a riding him .and he didn't want to go in the branch and get bis old feet wet, and I give him a cut and he made a big jump to jump over aud landed me right iu the water, confound hia old dingnation hide of him." "Jerusalem, what a big hawk! Aiu't he a rip-snorter? If I bad a gun now and he was to light on that sycamore I could just plug him from away back." "Bet you couldnent." "Bet I could. Dog my cats if I could ent just get away with him; I'd cure him of sucking eggs." "HawkB don't suck eggs." "Bet you they do." "Bet you they don't." "Well, I know that crows suck eggs, and hawks ain't no better than crows." One day Mrs. Arp was in hearing of scraps ana fragments of such elegant conversation among her children and grand-children, and she suddenly ap? peared and lifted up her voice and said : "Come here boys. Come right here, every one of you. Did I ever hear such language in all my life? Where in the wide world did you learn to say confound and dingnation and blame my skin and dad burn it all? Did you learn such ugly words in any book at school ? Why I'm afraid you will get to swearing if you keep on." "Well, mama, it ain't no harm to say confound, ii it? I beam papa say "con? found tbe luck" the other day when he slipped down the back steps on the ice." "Well, that's a very different thing. Your papa he?well I reckon he was taken by surprise?I reckon it just slipped out sb be slipped down before he knew it." "Grandma I heard grandpa say devil tbe other day. Dou't you know he said there was some folks just like the devil, for when the devil was sick he prayed, and when be got well he went to cussin again ?" "And mama don't you know we got some devil turkey in the closet?" "Well, that don't mean the bad man," said Mrs. Arp. "That meanB tbe way they fix up the turkey?it is devilled turkey." "But it's got the picture of the old boy on tho can, aud he's got horns and a tail." "Grandma, what makes 'em call him an old boy ? is ho a boy ?" "I reckon bo children, I reckon so. I'm sure be ia uot a girl. I reckon tbey call him a boy because he curses, and says dingnation and blame my skin and dad burn it and all such bad words. Now I want you to quit using such lan? guage, for it is not smart nor manly, and it is not good manners." They all promised of course, and the next thing they rustled up was to fasten 1 up n cat in their room and tie paper ! boots ou his legs. When I went in to : discover the cause of their hilarity, tbey said they bad just been having a little fuu with the cat. "Where is the cat?" said I. They said they didn't know, reckoned ha got away, for tbey couldn't find him, and had looked all over the room. That night we heard a cat somewhere, and finally located old Tom up in the wires of the spring matress, and we had to take the bed all to pieces to get him out, and he had his feet and legs all done up in paper, and was scared nearly to death. Merciful heavens! did I everl what will those boys do next, and so forth and so on were the last notes I heard before the family curtain fei' Well, those boys are j.... like the men. They slide into mischief just as easy. In fact they hunt for it and always find it. I remember about a boy who wanted to use cuss words mighty bad, and he asked his mother if it was any harm to say coffer dam, and she said no, and then he said well our old cow Sukey got choked this morning and liked to have cougher dam head off. So all we can do is to talk to 'em and lick 'em and pray for 'era and then let 'em rip. The Route of a Circus. On an express train which was dashing along the iron rails toward New York, James A. Bailey, of the Barnum Show, said to a reporter of the Tribune: "The public, as it watches the tour of a great circus through the States, has Tittle knowledge of the immense amount of planning which a manager must do to arrange the route which bis show is to follow during the Summer. There are some people who have an idea that all we have to do is to make out a list of available cities and send out our advance agents to do the advertising. This is just where they make a great mistake. The fact is, it requires as much ability to lay out a well-paying route for a season's exhibition as it does to organize the show, itself. That statement sounds oddly, I know, but it is true. There are many things to be taken into consideration. In the first place, only those towns must be visited which can be relied upon to fill your tents. There are hundreds of cities in this country which have a large population but would not prove to be good 'show towns,' should we pay them a visit. How do I know this ? Along headed manager must keep himself pos? ted upon the financial condition of every section of the country in which his show is to travel. He must know how the crops are likely to turn out in Illinois, what the condition is of the mining in? terests in Pennsylvania, and manufactur? ing industries in New England, and the agricultural productions of the Middle and Southern States. As it would be folly for him to take his show to a city in which there had been within a year a long strike among workingmen by which the amount of surplus money had been seriously reduced, the manager must so lay out his route as to avoid that city, even though it might be on the direct line of travel. To do this often requires a very long run between one exhibition town and the next; but it is better to follow out such a plan than to run the risk of a failure. "Wheu, after mature deliberation, it has been decided what route the circus will take the following season, agents are sent to visit the cities in which we are to exhibit, to make the necessary arrange? ments. One agent secures the grounds, and makes contracts with butchers and grocers, and others for supplies; another plans excursions and makes contracts with the railroads for transportation. Following these agents are the adverti? sing cars, which in our own show are five in number. When at length the circus arrives at a city in which an exhibition is to be given, everything is in readiness for its reception. The bills contracted during our stay are all paid before we leave that night. The route which the Barnum Show is to take next season is all laid out now. I can tell you just where we shall be on any day you may name. "The show business, like many others I might mention, has become a science. There is some difference between the haphazard way the circuses used to be dragged over country roads by spavined horses twenty years ago and the present systematic express train arrangement which whirls them across one State into another in a single night. Now instead of one tent capable of seating 2,000 peo? ple, we have three, the seating capacity of which is more than 15,000. Yes, the days of the old road shows are numbered. One by one they disappear from their old haunts, Soon the last one will have housed its golden chariot and struck its tent forever." A Big Horse Race, The biggest quarter race that was ever made in Georgia was that race in Augus? ta a number of years ago between the Stamper mare and a horse from South Carolina. The'Stamper mare waa con? sidered the fastest quarter nag in the country, and her owners had plenty of money to back her. The South Caroli? nians came over with a full determina? tion to win or get broke. Several gen? tlemen from Athens went down to the race and fortunately backed the right horse and came back with wealth. From one of those who attended we learn that it was the most exciting race ever run in Georgia. The South Caro? linians bet all their money and then horses and other valuables, all of which the Stampers took, putting up one hun? dred dollars against a watch and' chain and $150 against a good horse. The race was run and the Stamper mare won by about a length. The South Caroli uians were very much crestfallen, and our informaut tells us he Baw one young man who sat down in a fence corner and cried like his heart would break, for his father had just died and left him $10,000, all of which he had staked on the South Carolina horse and lost. The young fel? low remarked that he had lost every cent he had on earth, and did not have money to get home with. The Stampers gave him enough to supply his wants. The night after the race the Stampers#came up into the city with watches and watch chains hanging all over them, and with thousands of dollars that they had won on the race. It is often said now by men who run quarter races, that the Stamper mare was the fastest quarter horse ever knowu in Georgia.?Athens, Ga., Banner. Afraid of His Partner. A gentlemanly farmer from Onion creek, who happened to bo in Austin last week, called at the office of a distin? guished Austin law firm. Both members of the firm were in, but the graDger only knew one of them. "Come acrosi the street and take a drink," said the farmer. "As soon as I put on ray overcoat." "You don't need any overcoat. It's warm out doors." I "Oh, yes, I do." . "What for? Puttin' on style, are j you?" "No. it's not that," whispered the law I yer, as soon ^s they got outside; "but i you saw my partner in there, didn't you ? j Well, if I were to go out and leave that ' overcoat with him, when I came hack it I would be in the pawnbroker's office." Bill Arp. commenced watches, Industrial Schools. The following presentment of the question of industrial education is from tbe pen of Mr. H. M. Cobb, in the Joxir nal of Progrett: The effort to give art industry an organized form is, so .ar as the technically useful arts are concerned, of comparatively modern origin. The old system of apprenticeship pursued by tbe various trades down to a period not bo remote as to be purely a tradition un? doubtedly gave good results, though sel? dom the beat. But in our time tbe vari? ous trade organizations have so circum? scribed apprenticeship, and bo weighted it with disabilities, that it can hardly be said to exist. Undoubtedly there are ap? prentices, but they bear little resem? blance to those known under tbe old system. The trades unions declare that they only aeek to defend tbe public and their guilds against imperfect work and unjust competition. In limiting tbe number of apprentices to be employed in any establishment, however, they have closed the avenues to thousands of boyo who must earn a living, by narrowing the field of choice. The question con? tinually recura, "What shall be done with tbe bays ?" and to this question the demoralization of the youth in great cities lends a sinister significance. Every day gome newspaper deplores the increas? ing number of b -jb who have no trades, aud no visible means of support. And it is common enough to bear tbe blame for this want of occupation laid upon the parents of the boys, who are said to be ambitious of a more brilliant future for their sous, or upon the boys themselves, who are said to despise, manual labor. Of course there ia some truth in these common enough charges. But there must have been truth in them a centary or two ago likewise. Yet tbe evil we speak of is undeniably of modern origin, and we are not to assume that it is deriv? able from a contempt for labor solely, or even chiefly, until the fact is apparent. The fact is that this evil began to increase with the spread of trades unions and other organized efforts to limit the num? ber of working members in any guild. The rules of these organizations are re? pressive. They go so far as to take from the father the selection of an occupation for his son, if it so happens that tbe father be the proprietor of an industrial establish? ment where the unions bear away. These rules are founded in selfishness, which would not so much matter were they not diametrically opposed to tbe exercise of that freedom of choice which goes before all healthy progress and prepares the way. The establishment "of art-indus? trial schools was forced by the narrow policy of the various artisan guilds. Their utility has been demonstrated be? yond any question whatever, aud they have, in fact, given a breadth *o tbe field of choice 'for youth which uas alreadd borne abundant testimony to their excel? lence. But they have done much more than thia. Avoiding tbe rigid rules of other organizations, they not only prac? tically make choice of occupation free, but give opportunity to the pupil to dis? cover for himself to what occupation he should devote his energies. These schools are conducted strictly on tbe in? ductive system. A boy entering one of them, un. jrtain as to what he can best do, soon finds his metier, and if destined to profit by opportunity and instruction cannot fail to go forth full armed and equipped for a victorious campaign in the industrial domain. The schools of industrial art now in operation have taken many a lad with nothing to do and no opportunity to do anything, and given him a new object in life. That these schools will, at a not distant day, banish apprenticeship from our shops and factories, and give to the artisan world a greater amount of skill and enterprise than it ever bad, and that it can ever have under tbe systems of ap? prenticeship now in vogue, seems unde? niable. Tbey may be regarded as the beginning of a revolution in art industry, but, if properly encouraged and sustained, they may he made a most prominent fac? tor in the solution of tbe social problem. The question, "What shall be done with the boys?" is fundamental. The boys of to-day, exactly as we equip them, will be tbe men of to-morrow. It 1b for us to aay what order of men tbey shall repre? sent, and what shall be the measure of their manhood. A Tube in the Man's Brain. New York, January 28.?On Thurs? day morning last, Bruno Knorr, a young German, attempted suicide at the corner of Fifty-second street and Second avenue by shooting himself through the forehead with a French self cocking revolver. The ball entered the carte of the fore? head. An officer took him to the Fifty first street station and placed him in the back room. He could only say "I have no money," and become unconscious. An ambu? lance was telegraphed for and he was taken to Bellevue hospital with a portion of his brain oozing out of the wound. Dr. Fluher, on examining the wjund, decided to make an attempt to find the bullet. The skull at the entrance of the wound was trepanned in the ordinary way, and it was found that the probe, which was inserted towards the back of the head, went so far that it was decided to make a counter opening with the tre? phine opposite the point of the probe. When the opening had been made the bullet was found lying in the brain, just below the opening in tbe skull. Then (the bullet having been removed) a drainage tube was passed through the brain in tbe track of the ball and left in place. The tube passeB through the head and projects both front and back about an inch. Since the operation tbe patient has been constantly improving, although stupid and semi-unconscious. When spoken to he opens his eyes, and when asked if he wishes water can aay yes or no. The surgical particulars of this interesting case were refused at Bellevue Hospital last night, as Dr. Flu? her wishes to write a full and complete history of it, to be read by him before the New York Surgical Society at the conclusion of the case. The hospital Burgeons hone to save his life and are doing all in their power to do so. His symptoms are watched con? stantly and his temperature is taken every two hours. This is the first opera? tion of the kind ever performed. The hair was shaved off from around the place where the trepanning was to be done. The instrument used is small, and has sharp teeth. It is made of highly polished steel, and cuts a hole about tbe size of a cent through tbe skull in a won? derfully short time. The operation oc? cupied about four hours' lime, and waa witnessed by a large number of the sur? gical staff of Bellevue Hospital. A friend of Knorr said last night that he formerly lived at No. 242 East Fifty second street, and that last fall he went into the country to find work. He kept company with a young girl. When he returned to New York he found that the girl had been keeping company with another young man named Frank Des? mond. This, together with his being out of work, so preyed upon his mind tfjat he attempted to kill himself. The Cherokee's Flight, or the Small Boy oo the Warpath. I shall not soon forget a stage coach ride from Forth Smith, Ark., to Musko gee, I. T. I had thought that I would be the only passenger, but when a woman and boy, and subsequently a half Indian, enterea, I very naturally revised my for? mer impressions and declared that I would have company. The half Indian had been educated at an Eastern school and was a very intelligent man. He was, I understood him to say, a member of the Cherokee counsel, and was returning home from a visit to Washington, to at'eend a session of that grave, if not potent, body of Indian legislators. When the boy learned that the man was an Indian he began to exhibit a restlessness which I soon discovered would result in the red man's anuoyance. "Did you ever kill anybody ?" he ask? ed. V "Tommy," said Che woman, "don't be rude." "I think not," replied the Cherokee. "Then what makes you be an In? dian?" "I am only a half Indian." "Which half?" "Thomas," exclaimed the woman, turn? ing him around, unbuttoning bis coat and buttoning it again. He remained quiet a few momenta and then said : "Maw." "What dear?" "A half Indian would only half kill anybody, wouldn't he?" "If you don't hush I'll put you out." "Then I'd have to walk, wouldn't I?" "Yes." "An' the bears might get me, mightn't they?" "Yes, they would." "Would you care ?" "Yes." "Then what makes you wanter put me out ? Do the Indians scalp folks ?" again addressing the Cherokee councilor, who exhibited a social side of his Indian nature, but yielding to the white and of course political half) replied: "The wild ones do." "But you are not wild, are you ?'; - "No." "Why ain't you?" "My little man, I must say that you're asking too many questions," casting a reproachful glance at the woman. "If you don't hush I'll whip you. Do you hear me ?" taking his hat from the floor and putting it ou his head. "Yessum." He remained quiet for a few moments, but dropping bis hat on the floor, he reached down, took it up and said: "If you was a wild Indian you'd cut me with a knife when I stoop down, wouldn't you?" The Cherokee looked far out over the lands of his fathers, but made no reply. "If I waster hit you, you'd hurt me any how, wouldn't you ?" "No," the red man replied. "Why wouldn't you?" "Another word out of you and I'll whip you. Never mind; I'll tell your father," said the woman. It was impossible to keep him quiet, and after a while he asked: "Have you got any boys?" "Yes; two." "Are they Indian boys ?" "Their mother is a white woman." "As white as my maw ?" "Just another word out of you and I'll box you," said the woman, blushing. He had evidently tested his indulgent mother on many an occasion, for after the shortest possible silence on his part, he asked: "Did you ever see any scalps?" "Yes, I think so." "Did they have blood on 'em ?" "No, they were dry," replied the Cher? okee, plainly showing that his political readiness in answering questions had ris? en above bis Indian stoicism. "Do they peel 'em like apples when they dry 'em ?" "Hush your mouth." The Indian nature was endeavoring to assert itself. "If you ask another question, I'll whip you, you little rascal," said the woman. "Are you going to hush ?" "Yessum." He twisted himself around, scratched the coach door with a nail he mysteri? ously produced, and asked: "Would you rather be an Indian than a white man ?" "Hold on," demanded the Cherokee, calling to the driver. "Let me ride out? side." "It's goin' to rain, I think, colonel," the driver responded. "Makes no difference," and he got out and climbed on top of the coach. I then thought my time had come, but he was after belter game; our red man of the forest was his affinity. He screwed himself around for awhile and then lean? ing from the coach window, he called: "Say, does Indians scalp niggers ?" "Whoa," said the Cherokee, "Let me get down." "Want to get back inside?" the driver asked. "No, I'm going to walk. Drive on, and if I don't overtake you all right. D-d if I wouldn't rather be a witness in the United States Court."?N. Y. Mercury. Fire Cents a Day. The cumulative power of money is a fact very generally known but not gene? rally appreciated. There are few men living at the age of sixty-five hanging on to exiutence by some sleuder employ? ment, or pensioners, it may be, on the bounty of kindred or friends, but might, by exercising the smallest particle of thrift, rigidly adhered to in the past, have set aside a respectacle sum which would materially help them lo maintain their independence in their old age. Let us take the small and insignificant sum of five cents, which we daily pay to have our boots blacked, to ride in a car the distance we are able to walk, or to pro? cure a bad cigar we are better without, and see what its value is in the course of years. We will suppose a boy of fifteen, by blacking his own boots or going with? out his cherished cigarette, puts by five cents a day; in a year saves $18.35, which, banked, bears interest at the rate of five per cent, per annum, compounded biyearly. On this basis, when our thrif? ty youth reaches the age of sixty-five, having set bis five cents per day religi? ously aside during fifty years, the result is surprising. He has accumulated no less a sum than $3,893.17. A scrutiny of the progress of this result is interesting. At the age of thirty our hero had $395; at forty, |$377; at fifty $1,667; at sixty, $2,962. After fifteen years' saving, his annual intereat more than equals his original principal; in twenty-five years it ia more than double; in thirty-five years it is four times as much ; in forty five years it is eight times as much, and the last year's interest is $86, orten and a I half times as much as the annual amount he puts by. The actual cash amount saved in fifty years is $912.50, the differ? ence between that and the grand total of $3,89?.l7, uz. $2,9S0.G7, is accumulated interest. What a magnificent premium for the minimum of thrift that can be well represented in figures.