The Kershaw gazette. (Camden, Kershaw Co., S.C.) 1873-1887, June 14, 1883, Image 1
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FBANK. P? BEARD, Fublishor.
JT7ST JUSTE) PEAR NOT.
VOL. X.
?
TWO DOLLARS A YEAR.
CAMDEN, KERSHAW COUNTY, S. C., THURSDAY, JUNE 14, 1883.
T i;:.
NO. 38.
? etfifjaiw isajctte.
? ' ?
THE PEOPLE'S PAPER.
' -* * ?
WUUIB1P AT CAMP1W. ?. O. *
FRANK P. BEARD. Publisher
T* Corretpoaitnte. V v
All communication* for this paper ibooM be ao>
eonipuul?a by tho naine of tbo author, not oocea
*rl)y for publication, but m an evidence of good
faith on tto part of tbowrlter* Write oofer o? oo*
kiUo of Ut? paper. Bo particularly careful la ctvte?
name* and date# to bar* the letters plain and 4l?
Uuct, ?? ; ? ? .
The Gazette
Job Printing Office
1* hitter prepared than wy other oAce la town,
to exocntc lu the moat attractive styles every dwcitv
tlou of Job Printing, such u l'auiphlet?.
Dill Head*, I .otter ud Not* Head*. U? DrMv
rosters, Dodgers, Circulars, Hud Ditto. TTiM^c,
VU". tl OS u>d Addr*** Cards, FuUacsa Cards. U>?1|
JU.
Work iooo lu Bronse, Red, Dlue ana Blac*
The public must remember that tho boat Is alir*y?
the eheapcct.
Wo do work at Charleston Prtccs, and guarantee
entlro satisfaction to our patrous.
W . keep constantly on hand tho largttst stock ?
Papers aud Cards In towu .
WAiTINO.
Where the ?unligbt and the shadow
Strive throughout the day,
Happy children in the meadow
Goyly laugh and play ;
Boasting one above another,
As they idly roam,
How will each surpass the other
When their ships come home !
We, who smile at childish prattle
With a stately air;
We, who fight a sterner battle
With our daily oire ?
Though a prudent, grave advise*
Each himself may deem?
Are we really so much wiser
Than the children seen?
Have we not, alas, how often I
Through departed days,
Watched for cold, gray skios to soften
Into golden haze?
Looking o'er life's troubled ooean,
White with angry foam;
Waiting through the day's commotion,
Till our ships come home?
Hope, that shed a fuller splendor,
O'er us as we went;
Love, that gleamed so true and tender
With a Clear content;
Wealth that might bo had for winning,
Peaceful heart and brow;
These wore ours at life's beginning?
Aro thoy with un now?
Still, the children's happy laughter
Riiplos in our ears;
Heedless they of what comes after,
Careless all of fears,
Youth and ago aro linked together,
Onward as they roam,
Waiting both through changing weathsr
Till their ships oome home.
OBANDBCAMA GOEDEN.
Although of mature age, I had
fallen bo completely into my uncle's
f tower as to givo him the most abso
ute disposal of my hand. I was
brought up most unwisely ? in other
words, with expectations? and conse
quently I wai good for nothing elfe
hut to keep on expecting. 1 spent
many years as a walking g ntleman of
society In London, and many more
in wandering to and fro upon tne Con
tinent; but at length, when actually
within hail of forty, I found myself
with my legs once more under the
mahogany of the Atheneum, and with
nothing to pay for the good things
above it but what came out of the
po l&ts of a tough and somewhat per
' emptor y ohl man.
He had never before insisted upon
my marrying; but t io reason was that
he had remained in constant expecta
tion of the.ee urrenco taking place
through my own connivance. Indeed,
it had been his business for many years
to iiiterpi>8<3 g ntly betwe n me r.n l
the catastiopUe, suggesting now that
I did not know er.oigO of the lady,
and again that I knew too much, and
so forth.
The fact is, I had ncVer been with
out expectations of taking a wife,
always voluntarily abandoned, till my
first crop of gray hairs appeared.
After that the oiihculty wa* on the
side of the lady ; and I was at length
so much (lisgitftted by the unrea<on
ableheBS of the sex that I determined
to live and die a bachelor. Just at
this time I received from my uncle a
lett r which was short and to the pur
i 'pose.
" Dear Nephew? I am glad to hear
of what you call the'vacai cy in your
heart, as you w 11 thus have no diffi
culty in fulfil Ing my wishes and obey
ing my solemn injunctions. You have
promt8( d mov oral times to marry, and
you must, now do so. X have never
interfered with your choice, and you
are not to Interfero with mine. The
widow and heiress of my old comrade
Gorden Is In the market. Our est tt? s
run Into each other In such a wav that
you m'ght comprise them both In the
same ring fence. She is a healthy
woman, and not too young ; and the
arrangement is that you are to be mar
ried at the end of her year of mourn
ing, if she can fancy you.
"Yours affectionately,
, ? John Mohchison."
If she could fancy mo 1 The widow
of old Gordon, and a healthy woman
indeed l What a horrible description 1
I thought my unole muBt have In
tended td try the extent of my loyalty ;
and I do not know that I had ever a
fit of more bitter reflection than while
conjuring up tho Idea conveyed ; for,
owing, I suppose, to the idle life I had
led, I bad not yet got rid of the Ideas
of romance which were so unlit for
mature years like mine. It was one
thing to indulge my despair la old
baohelofhood, and quite another to
oa*ry disappointment into the domestic
circle of an old woman. J confess I
did hope that Mrs. Gorden owed her !
healthy oonditlon to at least some
lingering remAtns of youth, hut a
second letter from my uncle, in reply
to my remonstrances, dissipated at
?nee my fond illusion1 by informing
ie that the widow's family could
"fford no possible objection, her only
Mighter being well married.
**"iere was no help for it. It was
ssaVy to turn my meditation from
ie lady to the estate, and, 1(1 thought
t the ring at sit, to fancy it Vrithln a"
Ing fence. But the affair eould not
e slept over any longer, and I set out
or mv nnowi setft. having previously
' killed to htm my full acquiescence
? Us plans. In due time I Arrived at
the little town cf Bethan. distant only
a few mil* frorri my destination.
It was here I heard? and with
cruel sndd?tttfS8lK?f *
connected with my intended which
made me at first determiner to rush i
back to London and, if neooflary, take
to street-sweeping, authorship or aaV
other despertUi wdourOe Vlhfsr>thaflf:
marry that Mes.vOord*m il4n passing
tl??It shall go, *'.*!& thJKolce, "and
so it shall, to 7
itv? to Its own Grannyma Oorden."
the next minute, in reply to my
hurried questions, my fears were con
firmed bv the landlord. My intended
old and hearthy brf 'e was an absolate
? .other-Otandmother Oorden 1
intended to go At onoeto ray
but that was now impossible.
My agitated mlitd needed repose. ?
night s reflections were neoeeaary to
arm nM with sufficient philosophy to
engaging a bed at the inn,? went out
to walkln the neighboring wo6<L The
locality was not chosen without a
motive, f r I knew that from the
summit of a low hill a mile distant 1
should obtain a view of Sethan c ?urt,
and I felt that, if anything could
reooncile me to the idea of the healthy
old widow, it would be the spectacle
of her castellated mansion seated in a
park which was a very paradise of
beauty. Every step I advanced
reconciled me more ana more to the
old lady, and, when I eaw the indica*
tions of trout in the stream, through
the trees, I was more than ever intent
But just at that moment a sound
broke upon my ears which conjured
up recent disagreeable associations; it
was the cry of a child. My thoughts
at once turned to hale, hearty, long
living grandmotherhood. Visions of
canes and snuff-boxes rose before my
eyes, everla ting coughs rattled in my
ears, and, worse than all, the g'ances
of matrimonial love from the eyes of a
grandmother froze my blood.
How ditterent was tue scene that
met my eyes as I turned the corner of
a clump of trees 1 The infant 1 had
heard was lying on its back on a
grass knoll, fighting up with its little
clenched lists, ana crowing, as the
nursemaids call it, with all its might,
while bending over it, with eyes brim
ful of love and laughter, poking its
tiny ribs with her fingers, snatching
wild kisses from fts brow, and seizing
its neck with her lips as if she would
throttle it, knelt a young woman ? and
such a young woman 1 ? a woman in
the very prime and glory of her years.
I did not think she could have been
quite thirty. Her bonnet was lying on
the grass, and her disheveled hair float
ing in dark masses over her shoulders;
but a bright radiance was on her
queenly brow, just as a voice of per
emptory command was heard in her
light, joyous laugh. There was a fear
less self -possession in her manner, such
as years superadd to the feminine soft
ness of youth, and her features, origin
ally molded in wax, were now as firm,
yet as exquisittly fine, a* if they had
been cut in semi-transparent marble.
While feasting on the beautiful pic
ture formed by the mother and her
child? surely that must be the relation
ship ? a little incident occurred which
disturbed them both.
The infant, with a shriller squeal of
delight and a more vigorous spasm of
its limbs than it had hitherto indulged
in, suddenly rolled down the kn >11,
crowing as it went, and the lady, with
a playful yet nervous cry of surprise,
stretohed after her in vain as she
knelt, till she measured her whole
length upon the sod. Before she
could get up, I had sprung from my
ambush, caught up the truant as it
lay half smothered |n the daisies and
buttercups, and presented the prize to
the llushtd and startled mother.
To describe the conversation of such
a fascinating woman is impossible.
.She was not a woman of society, yet
she was perfectly well-bred. She had
spei.t the greater part of her life in
the country, invigorating both mind
and body in the pure air of heaven,
visiting town occasionally, and thus
she was enabled, with the assistance
of books a id the g meral literature of
the day, to keep pace with the pro
gress of the world.
I do not know how it was, but our
acquaintance seemed to bo ready
ma le, and, having mentioned my un
cle's name, she had no difficulty pres
ently in remembering his respectable
friend Mrs. Gord'n.
"You know Mrs. Gordon?" said I,
"Yes."
"Whatl Grandmother Gordtn?"
"Yes."
"How do you like the individual?"
" I sympathize with her, for I, too?"
And, breaking off with a sigh, she
held up the fairest hand in the world,
so as to show a widow's ring.
I had not hitherto noticed her slight
mourning, but 1 now saw that she was
a widow, a young and oliatming widow,
and that the infant was the pledge of
a love extinguished by the grave. She
was free, this lovely young woman, and
I was about to be chain* d for l.fe to
Grandmother Gordenl She saw my
agitation, but, of course, could not
comprehend its oause.
"Come," she Said, with an angelio
smile; "I see you do not like my vener
able friend, but I am determined to re
ooncile you to her, She is a grandmother,
it is true, aud therefore n ?t so young
as she has been, but she wears well ?
she is, Indeed, particularly healthy;
and thus, if you forma friendship with
her, tt is likely to last for many years."
"That is the misery of it," said I.
"If she were but like other old women
? if she were but subject to the com
mon diseases of grandmothers? my
fate might be onduratde."
"Your fate! What has that to do
with Mrs. Gordon's longevity?"
" X am only going to be married to
her? that's all r and the absurd an
nouncement was no sooner out of my
mouth than the fair stranger broke
Into peals of laughter, which, to my
ears at that inauspicious moment,
sounded like the screams of an evil
*plrt^
" Pardon me," said she. endeavor
I ing to oorapMe heneU ; "I am far too
I giddy for a?" and the widow klated
the orphan chjla. "But the idea of a
marriage betWeeh you and Mrs. Gorden
la really U ii ridiculous. You appear
t*4*4k?martyr to circumstances ; but
haaihe old lady given her oonsent?"
"Her. consent? Oh, let her alone
for that t It's not often that a fellow
like me comes In the way of a grand
mother. There is no likelihood of her
refusing me } and, if I refuse her, I
may a* *ell ha*g myself.*
"Why think of such an alternative?
Although probably dependent on
fortune, yon are not too old to work
and to struggle If vou will not allow
poo*, aged Mrs. Gorden to enrloh yon,
there are fortunes in the world still to
be made by the adventurous and the
Industrious/'
"Give me a motive," crhd I, sud
denly, "and I will both dare and
suffer ! 1 cannot do it for so poor a
meed as fortune ; but place in the
distance something worthy of my
efforts, f something rich enough to
reward Them, somechng ? u
"What?" said site, Innocently.
"T<ovet" cried I, In desperation, and,
' ' t. '? : ' V; ' 1
pr?T<?t m?? I bad
w &5T ^ ..-??????
I spent several hours with the lovely
^ r that
only a little time waa wanting to en
I hLEewttf h?raflwtl<?8rand then
th^K ?xtortlnJf ? promise
that she would not communicate my
r ^Jni^ ?^8' ?or^en? ^ud that, when
I called at the court, she would see
me alone, that I might hare an oppor
tunity of telling Jfcr what bad passed
myself.
When Ifcrrived ki my uncle's I found
?!iLUf 5 a YtI2 temJPer? ?? he had ex
ited me the dav bef re, and matters
fw?tinoLmeni wh*n 1 mentioned
frankly the misgivings I had on the
score of domestic happiness.
..^?mesMc fiddlesticks 1" cried he.
What more would you have than a
good estate and a good wife? a healthv
woman to boot, come of a long-winded
race, and as likely as not to lay you
beside my old friend Gordon ? She is
a grandmother already. Doesn't that
look well ? You do not think her too
O HUnDr? 1 the Old gentleman
grinned, -while 1 gave vent to a spas
modic exclamation -Then what dis
turbs you about her ? more especia'ly
when you tell me that there is a va
cancy lu your heart ? But here comes
A letter from the court," and tearina
open a large, old-fusMoned-looklno
missive presented to him by a servant
he read as follows:
"Mr Dear Sir? I am told that your
nephew has arrived, and, as he has
been reported upon favorably by one
who saw him yesterday, and on whose
taste and judgment I can rely, I am
tempted to say, with the frankness of
my character, that I shall be happy to
make - li:a ^acquaintance. I am truly
grateful for the many obliging things
I am told he said of me, and I hope
one day or other he will find them all
realized. My dearest grandchild sends
a kiss to you both; and, with best re
gards, I remain, as usual,
"Grandmother Gorden."
cr*?d the old gentleman,
with odious triumph. ? There is a
spirit for you ! Why, you dog, you will
be as happy as the day is long f?
I scarcely heard him. for my thoughts
IU?# Iu,Kl?lng bitt?rJy over the treach
ery of the beautiful widow. She had
broken hor promise, and she bad ren
dered mv position a thousand times
more embarrassing bv persuading the
wretched grandmother that I hadheen
10 8a^ complimentary
about her age, ugliness and ta
rn , JtLwna cW that she was a
Jilt, that .she had only been laughing at
my admiration, and that she was now
determined to extract further amuse
ment from my calamities. I resolved
however, to die game; and, telling my
with8 Mrf'n thouKb weJl acquainted
with Mrs. Gorden from report. I de
sired to seo her personally before de
orvl-i 'n fW mys?lf on horseback
i?ll btr?igl?tway to the court.
It had been my intention to ask for
Mrs. Gorden, but the wily widow was
on her guard, for, as the door opened,
I heard her call t-j the servant in her
here ^RniT ! "S*?W thf ?entle??* in
nere, and in another minute I stood
once m >re in the presence of the un
iS?rni 0f *J,e, forest' 1 f?und her
??r? ^utiful, better dressed and
fK?"n/er-i??,k,n? than 8he bftd appeared
the day before, and, as I saw with
k?\Wec,aUop the tre<Mnre I wa?
about to lose forever, my resentment
place aWBy' an deep Krief took its
" You forgot your promise," said 1,
a 8Port of my misery."
What could I have said when
8he- 8weetiy
But what misery do you allude to?
mother?"'^ ?f marr*ln* a ?rand
aJ\Yea~~Zh^n,my heart ,s devoted to
another. But it is needless to talk to
you; you are as incapable of passion
as a statue. You could never have
loved even your husband 1"
??m^rOW Rf6 ,n 8?mo d<gr?? wrong;
still, I was so young when I was mar
ried? only sixteen? that I looked upon
my husband more as a guardian tKan
r\ Was not (lulte seventeen
when I became a mother."
whHIe8igoP.rible? That ,fln0tR?reat
44 Greater than you perhaps suppose;
for a sound constitution and salubrious
air are apt to lead to mistakes.. Would
ffrty"nve0re 10 1x1 w<"' on towa'<1
t " what became of your child?" cried
I. suddenly. v
? " y?, married young In our
family," replied ^he widow, hanging
her head, "it was my daughter's
infant," she continued, looking up at
5 rVOS* dutiful blush that
ever lit the cheeks of a girl, "which
2L2S22L* me y^^rdky from
among the daisies and buttercups, and
I am Grandmother Gorden."
The May Pole.
The 1st of May was the chief festi
val in ancient and modern times.
Chaucer and other writers tell us that
in JE&ngland* during the middle ages, it
Was oustomary for all, even the court
itself, to Join in this carnival, and the
fairest or a d in the village was crowned
With flowers and seated in an arbor,
oovered with hawthorn, where she sat
in state and received the youthful cour
tiers who danced and sang t round her
after the fashion of worshiping the
Goddess Flora.
During tho reign of Henry the
Klghth, the heads of the corporation
of London went out in the high
grounds of Kent to gather the May,
the king and Queen Katherine of Ara
gon coming from their palaoe of Green
wich to meet them. In every town
and village was erected a May pole,
upon whioh each season was suspended
wrea'hsof flowers, and the villagers
danocd in pretty rings the whole day
through. This custom, abolished by
the Puritans, was revived during the
Restoration, and he!d its ground Tor a
long time.
May poles are yet to be seen in some
portions of France and Germany, and
the festive sports are still observed.
One of the latest foreign Inventions
is that of the manufacture of bottles,
etc., from cast Iron containing some
twSlve per eent. of slllcum, a com
pound will :h is said to r slst the action
of the strongest acids.
Lonte'eua timber land* cover 15,000,
000 acres.
FAB*, SARIfEH AND HOUSEHOLD.
.... -I x? ? -v
Tfc? Trpptr T1 mt fCmt GrtH.
The report of the analytical chemist
of the department of agriculture*,
summing up the results of analyses of
nearly all the cultivated grasses, says:
It is apparent, then, that in most
cases the time of bloom, or thereabout,
is the Attes t for cuvting grassos in order
to obtain tho most nourishment and
largest relatively profitable crops, and
, for the following reasons: Tae amount
of water has diminished and the
Shrinkage will therefore be less. The
height of t le crop will be largest in
proportion to the nutritive value of
its constituent'. The amount of nitro
gen not pr.senl >1* albuminoids will
le at its lowest po nt; fiber will not be
so excessive as to prevent digestion,
and the nutritive ratio will be more
advantageous.
If out earlier the shrinkage is larger,
although the fiber is loss and albumen
is alittls larg?r. The pa'atability may
be increased, but the total nutriments
to the acre will not be so large, and
the nutritive ratio will be more ab
normal.
The disadvantage j of late cutting
are evident in the increase of fiber,
destroying the digestibility of the nu
triments and the falling off of the al:
bunion by conversion into amides;
This is not made up by the larger crop
cut.
farm nod Our den Not??. >
The parsnip is one of the best of all
roots for milch cows.
Do not cut trees for timber when
the sap is active, nor prune gpape- 1
vines or fruit trees on light and warm
sol's.
Good potatoes can be raised on straw
or meadow land by putting a little
phosphate in each hill, the straw to be
put in a deep furrow.
Ground oats form cn3 of the best
feeds to promote a flow of milk either
in cow*, ewes or in breeding sows.
The oats will grind better if one
bushel of corn is mixed with every
two or three of the lighten grain.
The roof of barns should be steep,
and if of wood the surface either
da nted or the shingles dipped in lime
water to make them more durable.
Straw and dirt collect under flat- roofed
shingles and cause rapid decay.
* A weak alkaline solution in the soil
is said to promot J nitrification, while
too much alkali is injurious. 1 The
moral is to apply pottish and ether
alkaline manures thinly,' over as much
ground ai they can cover, rather than
in heavy doses.
Potatoes do better in a cool soil than
in one that is qu.te warm. It is,
accordingly, better to plant them on
land that inclim s toward the north,
so that they will not be exposed to the
full force of the sun's rays.
There is more nutriment in straw
than is commonly suppoaeJ, and if rich
food lik? corn or cottonseed meal is
fed, mora will be eaten by stock. Straw
alone is not nutritious enough for per
fect feed, while corn or cottonseed
meal are too concentrated.
Horses kept in clean stables, espe
cially if underground, are apt to suffer
from sore eye, caused I y the nmmonia
from their urine. A little land plaster
or gypsum scattered in the stables
will absorb this ammonia and save its
valuable fert llzlng properties. Diluted
sulphuric acid will do the same, but
is not bo convenient as the gypsum,.
The orchard should be cultivated at
least eight yearj, or till it comes well
into bearing in any hoed crop, or sown
to buckwheat and let fall back on the
grounl; care should be taken not to
plow too near or tco deep n?ar the
trees; when you se;d use red clover.
It is advisable vto shorten in the
branches two-thirds the last year's
rowth, for the reason that the tree
ai lost roots in being taktn up, and
that equalizes the top and roots.
In ori.er to have successive crops of
Jfreen food f )r stock, small pieces of
and should be sown at intervals for
that purpose. Some sections will not
produce in abundance, but such dim.
culty may partially be avoidea by sow
ing peas and oats mixed, mustard,
radish, collards, kale or anything else
that comes in early. Though the
quantity may not be large, the green
stuff wf* answer for the ohange of
diet, and feervee an excellent purpose
in that respect.
It is a common remark that the
cherry must be grafted early ? a Very
indefinite term to most people. In
the months of April and May applica
tions to the nurseries for sciona are
frequent and no such orders can be
honestly supplied at such i. tltoe. An
amateur gardener brought with him
from Germany a man skilled in several
departments, one of which was gift
ing the cherry, and he claimed that
earliness was the cardinal point. >IIe
said that they must he grafted, in
February.
The Practical Farmt.r says: Among
asparagus growers the rule is that hone
should be cut the first year of planting.
The second vear the stronger spears
may be cut at first as they appear above
the surface until the inldale of May,
when the spears should be allowed to
run to seed. The third year the bed
may be cut regularly until the first
week In June, when some of the
weaker growth should be left, and by
the 12th or 16th cutting should
cease. From then on the bed may be
out from the middle of March until
the middle of May, not later.
The best land for corn is sod ground
that has been turned up in the early
fall. Either harrott or work it up
with a cultivator several times in
the spring before planting, and the
birds will e&"h time destroy multitudes
of larvae. Harrow in the manure or
work it in With the cultivator. If fer
tilizer is used sow it bountifully broad
cast. Be sure the ground is clean and
well tilled before the seed is put In.
Keep the Surface thoroughly stirred
once a week from the thtie it can be
worked until the tassels appear. Har
row just as It make* It* appearance
through the soil with a fine short
tooth harrow that breaks the ground
in the hill or drill.
An exoeltont way of speedily fertil
izing lend is by plowing under some
heavy green eropt in this way the sur
face soil Is enriched, not only by the
elements which the crop derived from
the Air, but al?o by mineral and vege
table matters, which were brought up
by it from the subsoil. The gtoen crop
thus acts the part of a gatherer of
plant food, and makes it easier lor any
erop soon afttr this green manuring to
get its supplies from decomposing vege
tation in the soil. The best plants
Ikdapted for green manuring are those
which derivH their support principally
from t e air, which grow rapidly,
Which cover the ground well and
whose roots penetrate deep and ramify
extensively throughout the soil.
Iloiuchold Hint*. ^
Kerosene will soften boots and shoes
that hare been hardened by water,
and will render thein as pliable as
new.
' Drain pipes aud all places that are
sour or Impure may be cleansed with
lime water, copperas water or carbolio
acid.
A coup'.e of boiled eggs, with a slfoe
or two of toast, will make a breakfast
sufficient for a man, and good enough
for a king.
A little chloride of lime dissolved in
warm water and left in a lamp or can
which has held kerosene will deodorize
it very soon.
Clear tolling water will remove tea
steins ; pour the water through the
etain, and thus prevent it spreading
over the fabric.
It is stated that half a cup of vine
gar in the water will make an old fowl
cook nearly as quickly as a young one,
and does not injure the flavor. The
vessel in which it is cooked should bo
of material that vinegar will not
affect.
Beeswax and salt will make rusty
flat-irons as clean and as smcoth as
glass. Tie a lump of wax in a rag and
keep it for that purpose. When the
irons are hot rub the:n first with the
wax rag, then scour them with paper
or cloth sprinkled with salt.
Dishes Borrowed from the Indians.
The corn was planted as our farm
ers i lant it, in hula three or four feet
apart, with four or five grains in a hill.
Beans grew about the stalk then as
now, and pumpkins or squashes filled
the intervening Bpace.
? The very names of our dishes are
witnesses that the European-Ameri
cans learned many ways of cooking
from the Indians, rone, hominy, samp,
tuccotaBh and supawn are words bor
rowed from the aboriginal tongues ;
and the preparations of Indian corn
which beSr these names were served in
wigwams, no doubt, for ages before
white men had ever seen the gay
streamers and waving tassels of the
tnalze-fleld. On a hot stone, or the bot
tom. of an earthen vessel set before the
fire, the aboriginal baked what the pi
oneer called a hoe-cake; the toothsome
Southern "ash-cake" was also first
made by the squaws, who shrouded it
in husks before committing it to the
fire. The Indians knew how to hull
corn by applying lye. They celebrated
the coming of the delicious green
" roasting-ears" by a solemn feast.
They nourished infants and invalids
with maize-gruel, and they were be
fore us also with the merry pop-corn ?
" the corn that blossomed," as the Hu
rons called it.
But " our wild brethren and sisters"
used Indian corn in ways unknown to
us; it was their chief food, and they
" put it through all its sauces." Jeru
salem artichokes, dried ourrants, pow
dered mulberries ? indeed, almost all
other sorts of fruit and flesh? were
mixed with it. TLsy cooked little
doughnuts of meal by dropping them
into maple syrup. t)ne of their most
useful preparations was probably that
which, in Virginia, was called rocka
hominy, and in New England nokick ?
simply parched corn pulverized and
carried in a pouch in journeying; it
was mixed, before eating, with snow
in winter and with spring water in
summer. They used maize for many
other things; of the meal they made
poultices; with a bowl of mush, given
by the bride to her new lord, some
tribes celebrated marriages; by means
of the grains of maixe, to represent a
penny or stiveT, the savage cast up his
accounts with the trader; grains
of oorn were Bent as tickets ? to
those who were bidden . to a
feast ; ar.d by putting ' them |
into gourds and turtle shells, rattles
werelnade. The husks they braided
for mats and wrought into baskets,
into light ballsfor some of their gamoa,
into salt bottles, and even shoes, long
before the white man took the hint
and made of them chair bottoins,
floor mats and collars for horses.
Maize was worshiped as a divinity.
Children were kept in the fleld to
watch the precious grain a* it grew;
but some of the tribes protected the
theivlsh crow, because of the legend
that a crow had brought them the
first seed of the plant wKieh supported
their life on so many sides.
From the aborigines the settlers
learned the use of other articles of
food, such as the persimmon of the
Houth, and the so-called ground-nut
of the North. Penn found the sav
agos eating baked beans, a) white
peoplo do yet in Boston. The festoons
of drying pumpkin in the frontier
man's cabin are imitated from tho In
dians.? Edward KggleMon, in the
Century. '
A. Pair of Kharper*.
A young man at Glasgow, Iowa, was
taken in the other day and done for
by a new trick. He laid a wager with
a stranger that the latter would not
woo, win and marry a youhg lady
whom, with his companion, he had*
seen arrive at the hotel where ho was
Hvlng. The latter introduced himself
to the damsel, she smiled upon his suit,
a minister was called In and they were
married within an hour. ThS wager
of no inconsiderable amount was
handed over to the bridegroom, who
left w.th his bride t'ae following day.
It was afterward discovered that the
couple had long been man and wife,
and that they had been traveling
about playing the same trick at vari
ous hotels.
Our tamber supply Is by no means
exhau ted, yet. Mississippi has 20,- <
000.000 seres Of timber lana, Louisiana
16.000,000, and the forests of Texas,
it I* estimated, are able to snpply the {
eountry for 100 years. \
FOB THE FAIR SEX.
Tkr?wiB( Slippers t?r C3*?d I. nek.
Blading about a bride who was
lately startwl on the voyage of life
with the slippers of a Or Idem aid
thrown after her for " go>d luck," re
vives an incident at the Hartford JaiL
A woman who had b.en locked up for
the murder of her husband was going
down to be tried for tiie crime. As
she left the. female prison in charge of
an officer a shower of slippers came
down around Ler, and twenty slipper
less women prisoners wished her
"Godspeed " and "good luck." Wil
liam C. Case defended her, and, al
though things looked dark for her, sho
had the "good luck" to bo acquitted.
Her lawyer took the credit to himself,
but it would be difficult to make the
women believe that the slippers didn't
play an important part in bringing
about the verdict " not guilty."
Tiillora for Ladle*.
Since the ladies began to wear the
heavy materials of which tfielr wraps
and other garments are made, they
Boon found out the fact that If they
wanted to wear garments made of
men's cloth men tailors would have to
make them up. The ladies did not
bftsitate, but promptly accepted the al
ternative, and the lady's tailor came
into vogue. In Philadelphia, as we
learn from the 7 irow, the journeymen
tailors have adopted a bill of prices for
work on ladies' garments. Being
asked by a reporter, " But how about
the measuring nnd fitting, do the ladies
like that part of the business?" ? one
of the tailors replied:
Do they like it V A lady who has
the spirit of her kind will like anything
for the sake of "the style." If there
are those who don't like it they say
nothing about it; but the majority of
them would rather deal with men than
women. They co:ne and are measured
and fitted by men, just as their hus
bands and brothers are. And whv
shouldn't they ? I think if you
were to ask them they would tell
you they get better satisfaction from
us than from the dressmakers of their
own sex. They have confidence in
the judgment of the ta;lor and in his
ability to cater to their wants, and
very readily accept his ideus of taste
and style as correct.
Fit ehlon Notes.
Yellow, in all shades, is very fashion
able.
Pompons and aigrettes are used to
ornament bonnets.
Spidery, not owls, are the latest de
8ign in new lace pins.^
New bonnets have the trimmings
mounted upon the top.
Mix'.uro of all shades of beads ar
ranged in cashmere shawl patterns are
called Eastern einbro'deries.
Double coquettes, where no partings
are visible, are made large enough to
cover the < ntiro top of the head.
Some of the straw bonnets for young
ladles have narrow ribbons across the
crown incited just in the center.
Combination suits are still in vogue,
and the most peculiar shales blendtd
together are considertd in good taste.
Birds on the wing, at rest, in the
nest and billing and doing are marked
features In tne designs of new sateens.
New cloth resembling Java canvas,
plain, and honeycomb flannels, will be
used for children's wraps for the sum
mer.
The small (Jreciin knot coiffure,
with waved nrctimped front hair, re
mains the favorite style with fashion
able women.
La lies' satchels are in plush, velvet
or leather, both plnin and ornamental,
in the bellows style and much larger
than thos j of last season.
Notwithstanding the preference
manifest :d for flowers as a bonnet
garniture, many of the broad brim
hats are laden with ostrich plumes.
Braided lao.es In two colors on q^tfn
are new, ar.d leather laid on a lace
foundation of the sajne shade is much
used in millinery; leather buckles are
also popular.
llome of the Blue Crane,
Mr. John L, Dunlap has returned
from a hunting expedition In Spencer
county, Ky. The only trophy ho
brought back with him was a gigantic
blue crane, which measured five feet
from tip to tip, and was exactly six
feet in height. Mr. Dunlap tells a
very curious stofy of a resjrt of those
oranes. About two miles from Tay
lorsvillo is an island In Sayre's creek
whoso area is perhaps ten acres.
The Island is a favorite haunt of
these peculiar birds, who annually re
sort there for the purpose of rearing
their young. Notwithstanding the
fact that the orano is a wading bird it
builds its nest in the tallest troos it
can And. The island is not cleared
up, but is covered with gigantio syca
mores towering eighty or ninety feet
in height, and the loitiest of these are
selected by them for their nests. Ono
of the trees has twenty-eight nests
upon its topmost branches, and another
has twelve. Tho nests are rude, ugly
structuros, built in a slovenly mannor
of sticks, lcav?s and twigs, and aro
guarded jealously by the birds through
out tho brooding season.
Tho cranes have l>eon In the habit
of resorting to thin- Island for a term
of years beyond tho memory of the
oldest inhabitant. Here they have
been left undisturbed until It has be
come a royal domain on which noth
ing else of the feather* d trlbodare in
trude. Tho silence of centuries broods
over tho primeval forest, unbroken
save by tin flapping of their wings, or
it may be th? chance shot of the wander
ing sportsman. Tho stream for miles
around is frequented by flocks of the
birds who h *re soem to lose, at least
for a time, their solitary instincts, and
become sociable and gregarious. They
leave annually abwt the 1st of Sep
tember, returning the 1st of April,
and have been doing so for years and
years. Their numbar upon the Island
Is almost incredible, and old citizens of
that country say it must be fully 1,000,
perhaps much mor e.-Loii1*vil(e Cour
ui-j ounwl.
The green three-cent stamp will
have been in use thirteen years when
thto new rate goes into effect nfevt Oc
tober.
The Deroj Coarse.
A young American, who haa trav
eled, says in correspondence about the
Derby track at Epsem, that the course
is entirely different from anything we
have in America:
There are not fifty yards of level
ground anywhere. I should eay that
a run of the whole circuit must '>o
about two miles long. On this side the 1
ground slopes rapidly down into a deep
valley, so that the horse* run on ground
that slants up toward the outside rail.
From the bottom of the valle*y the way
up on the other side is very sleep, and
whero the (rack runs along the crest
of , ridge beyond it, must bo four or
fUe hundred feet higher than where
we s.t. Up toward the beginning of
the home stretch is the place which
they call Tottenham corner, and all
England tells you what a terrible place
it Ls for a horeo to come around. But
that is taffy. There are worse turns
pt Jerome Park and Shoepaliead Bay.
The only difficulty about this one is
that it occurs where the horses are
coming down a slight slope. The
Derby races begin part way around the
course, as the distance they run is
about a mile and a quarter, 1 believe.
They start in an upward slope to the
crest of the dis'.ant ridge, come down
around Tottenham corntr, into the
straight stretch home, and end on a
down hill part of the track. The
course is turfed, not turned up like
those in America. Much of the space
down in the valley, inside the track
and up on the hill beyond, is taken up
with refreshment tents, Punch and
Judy shows, those machines which
send woxlen hor.-cs around in a circle,
parties of moil with blackened faces,
singing and dancing without time or
tune, jugglers, acrobats and a surging
mass of people. From the grand stand
for half a mile in each direction, out
side the track, tin re is tho same sort of
thing, added to a tremendous crash of
carriages, from which the horsos have
been takon and housed for tho day. A
third of the people present want tosell
you something that is of no earthly
use, and that you wouldn't bo found
dead with, and the other two-thii.ds
want to steal whatever you may have
around in your clothes. * They are tho
most accomplished thieves I ever
struck, and they will steal anything
they can lay hands on, no matter
whether it is woith anything or not.
I have seen some pretty big and come
rathir promiscuouscrowds in America,
but tins ons certainly captured the
prize in all respects. Thore must have
been six hundred thou; aud to one mil
lion people there. Nobody can convoy
a notion of such a crowd with more
figures. It was at hast ten times as
large a gathering as I ever saw at a
race before.
The Dad Boy.
" There you drop that," said tho
grocery man to tho l ad boy, a< ho camo
limping into l he storo and began to
fumble aronnd a box of strawb. rries. I
"I have never kicko I at your eating
my codiish, and crackers and cheese,
and herring, and apples, but there has
got to bia dhidingline soniewhero,
itnd I make it at strawberries at six
shillings a box, and only two layer* in
a box. I only bought one box,
hoping that some plumber or
ga< man would como along and buy
it, and by gum, everybody that has
been in the stoie has sampled a straw
berry out of that box, shivered as
though it whs sour, and gone off with
out asking the price," and the grocery I
man looked mad, took a hatchet and
knocked in tho head of a barrel of
apples, and said * "There, help yourself
to dried apples."
" Oh, 1 don't want your strawberries
or drieJ apples," said tho boy, as he
leaned against a show-case and looked
at a bar of red, transparent
soap. "I was only trying to
fool you. Say, that bar of soap is
old enough to vote. I remembor
seeing it in the show-chso when I was
about a year old, and pa came in hero
with me and held mo up to the show
cai e to look at that tin tobacco box,
and that round zinc looking-glass, and
the yellow wooden pocket comb, and
tho soap looks just the name, only a
little faded. If you would wash your
self once in a while your soap wouldn't
dry up on Your handp," anil the boy
sat down in the chair without any
back, fooling that ho was even with
the grocery man.
"You never mind tho soap. It is
paid for, and that is more than your
father can say about-the soap that has
been used in his house ,.t)io past
month," said tho grocery man, as ho
split up a box to kindle tho fire.?
Peck's Sun. .
Is the Elephant Boomed ?
At tho recent sales of ivory in
London there wero 129 tons offered,
almost all of which c insisted of ele
phants' tusks, brought from various
f?arts of Africa. Tho quality of the
vory offered at theso safes was rather
Inferior, yet it brought ?750 per ton.
Sheffield cutlers and cutlery manu
facturers were tho chief purchasers.
Dr. C. B. Webster, tho American con
sul at Sheffield, in a rcoont report pre
sented to tho government, dlrectou at
tention to the largo proportion of vory
small tusks brought to market. This,
of course, indicates how many olo
phants are destroyed in early youth.
To show to what size many of these
might havo attained, Messrs. Joseph
Hoopers Hons, of Sheffield, oxhinlt
at their show-rooms an African ele
phant's tusk nino feet long, twenty'
one Inches in girth, and weighing MiO
rounds. This Is among tho largest
usks on riord. Its present value is
?liiO. Dr. Webster remarks that an
animal large an 1 strong enough to
carrv such n pair of inclsoi s would at
tract more attention than Jumbo. It
Is estimated that tho 5,286 tons of
Ivory Imported Into Great Britain dur
ing the nine years fr&m 1878 to 1881
Inclusive, represent 206,016 pairs of
tuskfe, and, consequently, the same
number of elephant* that have died or
been slaughtered to supply the de
mands of luxury for the f ast nlno
years. At this rate of destruction, It
itf olear that tho noble elephant must
rapidly disappear, and lvorr become a
thing of the past, uriless the traveler
of the future should reveal fresh
source* of supply on a vast scale, or
I manufacturers 1 e content to use some
I kind of artificial Ivory for the many
of the purposes to which real Ivory Is
at present unneceisarlly applied.
NOT YET.
The days glide by on winged feet,
A river flowing broad and fleet ;
Thy faoe from mine is turned away,
It will not bo bo, dear, alway.
I'hy heart would fain its love forget,
It cannot yet, dear love, not yet.
I stand outside a fast-closed door,
Against mo closed forevermore.
Yet parts us neither bolt nor bar,
Who arc so near, and yet bo far.
Oh, heart, that would its love forget'
And cannot yet, dear love, not yet.
I hoar thy voice, so soft and low,
And silont tear* unbidden flow ;
While yet its music fills the air.
I paso and brcatho a silent prayer.
My hoart would fain its love forget,
And cannot yet, dear love, not yet
One step ? and I by thee could utand,
And touch thy dear familiar hand ;
One look ? and I upon thy breast
Would lean, and, woary, tlud my res
Poor heart that fr.in would love forgot,
And cannot yet, dear love, not yet.
One word? and I again might raise
My face to thine, and raoet thy gaze ;
And with no won! thy heart should read.
That lovo is all a woman's need.
Dear heart, wouldst thou thy love forgetf
Thou canst not yet, dear lovo, not yet.
If o'or thy soul hath need of mine,
If o'er the truth thou canst divino,
Seas will not part, nor boiy^t bar,
Wo shall he near, who iw^^^Kar.
True hearts that fain^^^^^ve forget,
And c mnot yet, dea^pi^not yet.
HUnOKOUS.
Kaising the wind? Kicking a foot
ball. ? Cheek.
Quick sells and snmll prophets ?
The weather prognosticate rs.
A Western farmer advertisoi that
lie wants a first-class putato-masher;
thore are lots of mashers in Philadel
phia. but they aro all of the small
potato order. ? Philadelphia Item.
An old lady was asked her opinion
about Mrs. Smith, her next-door neigh
bor. ?? Well," she said, " I am not the
one to speak ill of anybody, but I foel
very sorry for Mr. .Smith." ? Jiochester
Post'Exj) reus.
" No, I won't take your combings
and have them mado into bangs,
either," growled Mr. Oldhusband to
his wife, this morning. " Why, sir ?"
" litc.iusc I'd be arrested for trt-ss
passing Pittsburg Telegraph, ?
A $700 sexton fell from a high
scaffolding in fc't. Peter's cathedral,
Cincinnati, and dropped right through
a $25,000 painting by Murillo. The
painting was ruined. None o? Hie
local papers state what became of tne
sexton. ? Ila to k eye.
A fisherman fished in the lake,
Who tried a hi;: s icker to take;
Hut jus', as he got 'm
Was ynnkcri t?? the boitoin
Aud thevo's wluro tbeiish took the cake.
? iSyra< M?<! Herald.
A Chinese peddler in Portland, Ore
gon, refused to accept an English shil
ling, saying: " No good. Me heap
sabe? no chicken on him I" The Ore
yonian is of the opinion that when a
heathen Chinee calls our glorious bird
of freedom a chicken, it is time, in
deed, for him tu g .
" Will you please tell me what is
proper for a lady lo do when she Is
se.onaded?" In romances it is usually
written, "The curtains were seen to
flutter and a white hand emerged aad
tos<ed down a rose." In roal life the
heroine generally sleeps through it,
and, if sho wakes, had usually better
do nothing. ? The Continent.
A man who ventures upon the study
of Bcieneo aftor Ills marriage is apt to
bavo Itis mind diverted by many con
siderations that do nr.t properly arise
from that study. A young Brooklyn
husband hadn't finished half ^ dozen
chapters of a work on geology before
ho observed to his wife: " My dear, J
wonder if the women of the glacial
epoch had cold feot?" ? Eagle.
The Yorktonn Monument.
The contract for building the monu
ment at Yorktown, Va., has been given
to the Ilallowell (Jranito company, of
Maine. The monument is to be built,
of flno granite, to be ninety-seven feet
two inches high, crownod with an
allegoiical flguro thirteen feet high.
The inscriptions contain 1,488 letters,
with polished faces raised one' inch.
The sunt to bo paid is $66,752, and the
work is to be completed October 18,
1884, the anniversary of the surrender.
The monument is erected under the
supervision of Colonel William P.
Craighill, United .States engineer corps.
All the granite will be of first quality,
light in tone and even in color. The
sculptor's work, including the allegori
cal figure crowning tho monument, the
alto-rellevl of thirteen figures surround
ing tho drum, the capital shield and
palm, bands and stars on the shaft and
four bas-roliefs, one on each tympanum
of the die, is to ho dono by skilled men
after models approved by the monu
mental commission. The drum bear
ing the flgurcB in relief will bo two
courses in height. Tho crowning fig
ure and the drum will be of the statu
ary granite of Westerly, K. I. The re
mainder of the monument Is to be of
light-colored granite.
I/eadvllle.
Leadville, Col., now IiAh a popula
tion of 25,000 ? some t wonky men to
one Woman. Tho streets night and
day aro kept quite free from improper
persons, and ladles can walk about
without fear of annoyance. The tax
from gambling houses realizes $800 a
month, and that from dance halls $600.
Chinamen have been kept outside en
tirely. Two wandered, unwarned, into
the town throo years ago. There was
a double funeral almost immediately
afterward, and those Chinamen have
never been seen since.
Tho best of us are hampered In every
effort of improvement, not alone by
our own faults, but by those of onr
neighbors. We inhale the moral at
mosphere afound us quito as surely as
natural air, and the impurity of the
one will poison the character as of the
other will "poison the blood. Not con
gratulations, therefore, but deep regret
should follow tho discovery Of faults
an'' defects in other people, and If we
have not enough sympathy In un to
mourn on their account, we at least
have sufficient reason to regret on othr
own behalf.