Port Royal standard and commercial. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1874-1876, August 10, 1876, Image 1
FOIRT TICTTJLU
. Standard and Commercial.
7 ' '
YOL. IY. NO. 36. BEAUFORT, S. C., THURSDAY, AUGUST 10, 1876. $2.00 per Aim. Sinfle Copy 5 Cents.
The Boat Song.
Balanoed we sit in oar six-oared shell,
Toils of the brain, for an hoar, farewell!
Oars is no bark the storm to brave,
8he bides no buffet of fua'iiiug wave;
Bat when oar lake is a mirror true
Of its hills so green and its skies so bine,
Or when the breeze that mirror breaks
And outward tosses its silver flakes,
Ob, then, to the beat of her ashen wings,
Like a bird o'er the air olear deep she
springs.
Oars palled and feathered and dipped in time
Make measure sweet as a poet's rhyme,
Make mu?io sweet as our sweet bells' chime.
In open sky, on lake and land,
Live spirits of health for brain, heart, hand;
And the waving oar hath a wand-like spell
To win them hither where'er they dwell;
Now for a spurt your sinews brace,
Jast think of the laurel that crowns the
race,
For when oar brows with the bays are
twined
Gay fetes are plenty and fair maids kind.
Pull hard with one muscle, one heart, one >
will,
For pure accord is perfect skill!
Oars palled and feathered and dipped in time
Make measure sweet as a poet's rhyme,
Make music sweet as oar sweet bells' ohime.
?Francii O'Connor.
ONE OF CUSTER'S SCOUTS.
Darlmi Deeds of 44 Lonesome Charier"
Reynolds, who Perished with his dener&l?His
Romantic Ulstory.
I see in the list of the killed under
Custer, says a Graphic correspondent,
the name of Charley Reynolds?44 Lonesome
Charley " Reynolds. When Caster
was at the base of Harney's peak in
1874 and our camp was ablaze with excitement
over the gold discoveries, Custer
sent for Bloody Knife, the chief of
his scouts, and asked for an Indian to
carry dispatches to Fort Laramie, two
hundred miles below us. Bloody Knife
shook his head solemnly and said in
reply:
44 My warriors are brave, but they
are wise. They will carry a bag of letters
to Fort Linooln, but I cannot ask
them to go through the Sioux oountry
to Laramie."
Fort Lincoln was two hundred miles
further than Laramie, although the
route to the latter place was beset with
tenfold more dangers. It lod directly
through the Sioux hunting ground, and
just at this particular time of the year
the young men were all out in hunting
parties, so that the plains wero full of
them. Bloody Knife's braves were
Roes?a tribe for which the Sioux has a
hereditary enmity, and he was too wise
, to a?k one of them to undertake so
suicidal a project. But mails must be
sent somehow, and Custer was pondering
what to do. Charley Reynolds was
sitting on the ground, with his legs
crossed, cleaning a revolver, seemingly
iuattentive to the conversation. Custer
had been thinking but a moment, when
; Reynolds looked up and said:
44 I'll carry the mails to Laramie,
flronaMl "
Caster was familiar with courage in
every form, bat such a proposition surprised
even him.
441 wouldn't ask you to go, Reynolds,"
he said.
441 ?ave no fear," responded the
scout, quietly. 44 When will the mails be
ready ?"
441 was intending to send something
to-morrow night," replied Custer.
"I'll go to-morrow night."
And picking up his piece ef buckskin
and bottle of oil, Reynolds strode quietly
away.
44 There goes a man," said Custer,
44 who is a constant succession of surprises
to me. I am getting so that I
feel a humiliation in his presenoe.
Scarcely a day passes?and I have known
him three years?that does not develop
some new and strong trait in his character.
I would as soon have asked my
brother Tom to carry a mail to Laramie
as Reynolds."
The next day I saw Reynolds lead an ,
old, ill-shaped, bony, dun colored horse j
to the farrier's. I was somewhat carious
to know if he was going to ride that
animal to Laramie, and asked him.
44Tes," said he, in his quiet way.
"The general lets me pick my own
mount, and I've got one that suits me."
Noticing my surprise at his choice he
continued : \
441 suppose I oould have picked out a
better looking one, but this is the sort
for my trip." And scanning the beast
t\trar ha culrfor] ?? FT A knnws mOTB t.llAn
a man, if he is bony. Look in his eye."
The farrier took the horse's shoes off
and pared his hoofs neatly. Reynolds
then went to the saddler and had a set
of leather shoes made to fit the horse's
feet, so as to bnckle around the fetlocks.
tf What are those fori" I asked.
"A little dodge of mine to fool the
Indians. They make no trail."
Then he packed three or four days'
rations in a saddle pocket, prepared a
supply of ammunition, and cleaned up
a long, old fashioned rifie. Then, eating
a hearty dinner, he lay down under a
wagon for a ncp.
About four o'clock that evening an
engineering party started off iu the
direction Reynolds was to take, and saddling
his horse and strapping on a can vass
bag of letters, he accompanied us.
We rode till about ten o'clock, and went
into camp in a cluster of trees near a
brook. A fire was lighted, a pot of coffee
made, and after drinking a cupful Iteynolds
mounted his saddle and rode off
into the dark.
His path lay through a trackless wilderness?two
hundred miles of it?the
constant hamit of hostile Indians, and
not a foot of the ground had Reynolds
ever seen before. He had never been
at Laramie; he only knew the general
direction in which it lay, and his only
guideboard was the stars. After four
nights of riding and three days of sleeping
he reached his destination unharmed.
I saw him afterward at Fort Lincoln
on our return. He told me he got
through nicely and mailed the letters I
had intrusted to his care.
I had been told that under his gentle
demeanor lay a romance as remarkable
as any Cooper ever wrote, and one day
I asked him to tell me the story of his
Be blushed a little, laughed quiet
ly, and replied he didn't think it worth
while.
" But they tell me yon have had a remarkable
experience," I suggested.
"Aot so very remarkable," he answered.
" I guess you can find enough
to fill your paper without publish ng
anything about me."
And that was all the romance I got
from his lips. But from the lips of
others I learned that he had not always
been "Lonesome Charley Reynolds."
No one, however, knew his true name.
He was called " Lonesome " because of
an absent, pensive way he had?a habit
of seclusiveness. He came to Lincoln
from Montana three years before, with
his " partner," where the two had been
hunting and trapping together for several
years. The story of his life that
his " partner " told was this :
Reynolds was the son of a wealthy
and aristocratic family in i ennessee, but
was educated in the North, and when
the war broke out he found himself in a
painful dilemma. He had imbibed
enough of Northern ideas to make him
strongly hostile to the secession movement,
while his family, consisting of a
father, mother, and sister, were violent
sym.mthizers with the South. His father
entered the Confederate army as an
officer early in the war. The son could
not go with him and fight against his
principles, nor could he stay at home
and brook the taunts and pleadings of
his mother and sister, nor could he join
the Federal army and fight against his
father, so he left his home and wandered
away to the mines on the Pr.cifio slope.
His home was at the center of hostilities
and all communication was cut off. At
the dose of the war he went back to
Tennessee, and what was once his home
was desolation. The neighbors told him
his father had been killed in one of the
early battles, his mother had died, and
his sister had married a Southern officer
whose name was not remembered,
an I all trace of her had been lost. The
old plantation had beeu confiscated and
theie was not a single tie left to bind
him to the past. He spent some months
in Bearch of his sister, without result,
and finally homelessness and a disposition
which shrunk from fellowship with
men, drove him back to bis old home in
the mountains to spend the rest of a
weary life. From 1865 to 1872 he was
in the mines in Colorado and Montana,
and hunting And trapping along the
streams of the great Northwest, being
employed occasionally by the government
to do some work for which ordinary
men were too cowardly or incompetent
He was a short, stocky man, with a
little stooping of the shoulders, and a
way of carrying his head bent forward
with his face toward the ground. He
had a shrinking blue eye, a very handsome
mouth, and a forehead on which
one could trace blue veins, as you can
trace them on the forehead of a woman.
He was full-bearded, but neither the
growth of hair nor the marks of exposure
had effaced the lines of beauty
from his face. His manner was unob
stmsive aud gentle, his voice was as
soft and tender as a woman's tones.
He was a man that horses and dogs loved
instinctively at first acquaintance; whom
men respected, although he was never
fathomed by the wisest of his friends.
He .had fought a whole tiibe of Indians
single handed, people said, although no
one ever learned of an exploit from his
own lips. He never learned the necessity
of 8wearing, never told a story,
never smoked a pipe or a cigar before a
camp fire, and never drank and liquor.
Hotel Life in San Francisco.
A story is told of a San Francisco
house, but as it is not localized, we cannot
possibly saddle it on any one of
them. A man boardiug there thought
prudent to settle beforehand, to be sure
that his money would hold out. Two
dollars a day. He staid two months and
sent for his bill. Carramba? The $2 a
day for board was only a small part of
the items charged. Sixty dollars tor
fire loomed up conspicuously. Boarder
demurred.
" Can't help it," says the landlord,
"we can't afford to furnish fuel and a
man to attend to it for less than $1 a
day."
" All right," says the boarder. " I'm
willing to pay yon a dollar a day for fire,
but don't want to pay for any more than
I've had. Now, out of all the time I've
been here it's impossible that I could
have had a fire more than half a dozen
days in the whole sixty."
"Well," says the landlord, "that's
not our fault; the fuel was there and a
man to attend to it; you might have
used it if you had been a mind to."
Fat the boarder remonstrated still
urther; "Now, if you oome up and
look at my room I think I can convince
you that there has never been any fuel
there, and what is still more," continued
ho, rising to the sublimity of the occasion,
" there is no fireplace in the room,
and no stove. There's not even a chimney
in the room for smoke to go out at,
nor a stovepipe, nor a hole to put a
stovepipe around."
The landlord " went down in his
boots."
Turkish and Servian Armies.
The correspondent of the London j
Standard writes as follows: But the
Turkish army is now well trained and
highly disciplined; those who have seen
the regular troops cannot fail to appreciate
their extraordinary discipline and
their skill in the use of the Snider rifle.
As artillerymen the Turks have been
famous at all times, their phlegmatic
temperament enabling th* m to take a
calm and steady aim. In Servia, on the
other hand, the robbers, except in the
frontier mountains, have been almost
exterminated, and in place of this matchless
force in a guerilla war an army has
j arisen which does not possess the advan!
tages of thoroughly well trained troops,
j and yet has lost its skill in irregular warfare.
The Servian forests have been
cleared, several good highways and a
number of roads which, although bad,
are yet passable for artillery, traverse
the country, and the Servian army could
not, like the bands of Kara Gjorge and
Milosh after the loss of Belgrade and
Kragujevach. be formed again. The
strategic probabilities of a future Servo*
j Turkish war are, therefore, almost simi*
I he to those in civilised countries
Gen. Canby's Murder by Modocs.
The death of Gen. Caster recalls the '
terrible fate of his brother-in-arms, Gen.
Canby, who was treacherously murdered
by Captain Jack of the Modoc tribe of i
Indians, April 11, 1873, in the Lava Bed
camp, Siskiyou county, California. Gen. i
Canby had been in command of the
department of Columbia, and during the 1
six months previous to his assassination :
had been actively engaged in bringing ]
the Modocs to accept the terms of peace ]
offered them by the government. On '
the morning of April 10, five Indians ]
and four squaws had come into his camp, <
and after receiving presents of clothing j
and provisions from the peace comiuis- ]
sioners, one of them was sent out as a 1
messenger to the Indian camp, asking i
for a meeting on the following morning
at a point aboat one mile beyond the
picket lines. Early in the morning i
Boston Charley came into camp and re- <
ported that Captain Jack and five other <
Indians would meet the commission out- ;
side the lines. In about an hour Gen. I
Canby, Mr. Dyer, the Rev. Dr. Thomas i
and Mr. Meacham, with interpreters, ]
started for the place of meeting, where i
they at once found the Indians. Speeches i
were made by Mr. Meacham, Gen Can- i
- ?- - ? ?i. ;~u
by, and Dr. ? nomas, auer wwuu captain
Jack asked for Hot Creek and Cot- i
tonwood?places then already occupied '
?for a reservation. Mr. Meacham told i
Jack that it was impossible to grant the 1
request, whereupon Schonchin admon- I
ished Mr. Meacham to say no more, and :
while Schonchin was still speakiug, I
Captain Jack walked behind the com- '
pany, and upon exclaiming, " All i
ready !" drew a pistol and snapped a <
cap at Gen. Canby. Patting on another 1
cap he again fired, and Gen. Canby fell
dead, shot under the eye. Schonchin ]
then fired upon Mr. Meacham, and 1
Boston Charley and another Indian shot 1
and killed Dr. Thomas. Mr. Dyer was 1
chased some distance, but succeeded in <
reaching his camp.
Gen. Canby was one of the seven gen- l
erals in the army who then held the <
brigadier rank. He was an officer uni- <
versally esteemed, and his melancholy i
fate awakened a general feeling of indig- i
nation throughout the entire country, t
Gen. Sherman, under directions of the <
President, at once forwarded orders to 1
the camp to "make the attack so strong 1
and persistent that their (the Modocs)
fate may be commensurate with their J
crime. You jrill be justified in their 1
utter extermination." 1
(
!
A Boarding House In an Uproar. ,
This is how the rumpus occurred : '
Higgins, who is a top-floorer, came home 1
late, bringing a friend with him. As *
the ways leading to Higgins' apartments j
are tortuous, he left his friend in the '
ball and ascended alone to illuminate. 1
Having struck a light, ho gave a low I
whistle as a signal to his friend to ascend. '
This little circumstance was fatal to the
peace and well-being of the establish- 1
ment. The old gentleman Battles, who 1
has the first floor front, was in a half j
wakeful state, and hearing the sibilant '
signal sounded on an upper landing was *
convinced that it was a thief's method of '
communicating with his fellow. Battles '
is energetic, and in a very brief space of 1
time bang went his pistol out of the 1
front window, accompanied by a volley '
of cries of "Police!" "Fire!" "Rob- 1
bers!" and "Murder!" This demonstration
had its effect all along the line. The '
boarders, en deshabille to a greater or
lesser degree?it was a warm night?ap- '
peared on the landing, and the boldest J
of them invaded Battles' appartment. *
The neighbors rushed out or put their *
heads out of the windows, and the great- j
est commotion prevailed throughout the '
street, The \ oiice began to arrive, re- 1
enforced by a squad from the station- '
house, and the fire patrol rushed around '
the corner. It took some time to ex- 1
plain matters and to restore quiet to \
the neighborhood. The most frightened
individual of all was the strange 1
gentleman Higgins had brought home 1
with him. He was set upon by the in- [
furiated boarders as the supposed burglar,
and narrowly escaped demolition.
(
I
A Bold Robbery, i
The most daring railroad robbery on
record was perpetrated recently on the |
Missouri Pacific railroad, a short distance
east c iOtterville, Mo.. From the
acoount of lie outrage published, it appears
that tho whole affair was deliberately
planned and successfully executed
by about a dozen masked ruffians, who
obstructed the track in a cutting, stopped
the train by a signal light, and after robbing
the express company's safes of
about sixteen thousand dollars in money
and valuables decamped with their
prize. No resistance was offered by
either the train officials or the passengers,
who were completely overawed by
the pistols of the band of masked robbers.'
An active pursuit after the gang
has been instituted from several points,
and there are some hopes of their capture,
but, we fear, not without loss of
life to the pursuing parties. The affair
is somewhat similar to the recent robbery
of a mail coach, filled with well
armed passengers, in Texas, when the
only one who escaped loss was a plucky
little woman who defied the robbers.
This outrage is possible of repetition on
any of our roads, even those of the settled
States, unless a severe lesson is administered
now to all concerned in this
latest robbery. We hope that the facility
with which the thieves got possession
of the safe keys and the money will
suggest to tho express companies some
better way of securing the valuables intrusted
to them in future than by keys
so easily got at, and in a safe that can be
broken open with a pickax.?Herald.
The Journal of Health has been collecting
all the recipes for rheumatism
floating around, some of which are quite
edifying. Per example: Kill a big dog
and put your feet inside. Wear sulphur
in your shoes. Wear silk. Wear flannel.
Exercise. Don't exercise. Pray
fervently. Don't eat meat. Eat all the
meat you can. Don't smoke. Smoke
all you like. Don't drink. Drink brandy.
Carry a piece of alum in your pocket.
Bathe. Don't bathe. Wear a horse
chestnut in your breeches pocket. Read
J >b." Rub with kerosene. Do not
g*e*r. Put on hot poultioefl,
AN INDIAN FIGHT.
The Story of an Attack npon aa Indian T
Village na told by Cleneral Custer.
One of the most interesting chapters
in Outer's " Life on the Plains" is that
which deals with his attack on the In- d
dian villages on the Wachita. He says: p
Immediately in rear of my horse cime I
the band, all mounted, and each with his t<
instrument ready to begin playing the *
moment their leader, who rode at their tl
bead, and who kept his cornet to his g
lips, should receive the signal. I had I
previously told him to play " Garry h
Owen" as the opening piece. We had t<
approached near enough to the village h
now to plainly catch a view here and g
there of the tall, white lodges as they \
stood in irregular order among the trees, b
From the openings at the top of some of t]
them we could peroeive faint oolumns of ii
smoke ascending, the occupants no v
doubt having kept up their feeble fires t]
duiing the entire night. We had ap- if
proached so near the village that fiom i<
the dead silence which reigned I feared t<
the lodges were deserted, the Indians k
having fled before we advanced. I was a;
about to turn in my saddle and direct tl
the sip nai for attack to be given?still ^
anxious where the other detachments a
were?when a single rifle shot rung p
sharp and clear on the far side of the h
village from where we were. Quickly e<
turning to the band leader I directed fi
him to give us "Garry Owen." At once u
the rollicking notes of that familliar ^
marching and fighting air sounded forth h
through the valley, and in a moment
were re-echoed back from the opposite g
sieds by the loud and continued a
cheers of the men of the other de- a
tackments,- who, true to their orders, \
were there and in readiness to 0
pounce upon the Indians the moment y
the attack begun. Iu this manner the a
LaIII A ?C \A7 A i frt AAtV> m Ar> A/t/^ ' rV? A
UittWO Ui. UID II OUUiWi Myuiuioiivou< jluu g
bugles sounded the charge, and the ^
entire command dashed rapidly into the c
tillage. The Indians were canght nap- n
ping ; bat, realizing at once the dangers 0
of their situation, they quickly over- n
same their surprise, and in an instant e
seized their lifles, bows and arrows and c,
sprung behind the nearest trees, while g
some leaped into the stream, nearly waist ^
Jeep, and, using the bank as a ride pit, r,
beguu a vigorous and determined de- a
fense. p
Mingled with the exultant cheers of c
my men could be heard the defiant c
svar whoop of the warriors, who from h
the first fought with a desperation and a
oourage which no race of men oould tl
mrpass. Major Benteen, in leading the \)
lttack of his squadron through the ^
timber below the village, encountered jj
m Indian boy scarcely fourteen years of u
ige; he was well mounted, and was en- g
leavoring to make his way through the g
Lines. This boy rode boldly toward the a
major, seeming to invite a contest. His Sl
fouthful bearing, and not being looked
upon as a combatant, induced Major a
Benteen to endeavor to save him by w
making "peace signs" to him and ob- &
mining his surrender, when he <?>ald be j]
placed in a position of safety until the a
jattlo was terminated; but the young 0
ravage desired and would accept no such t]
friendly concessions. He regarded him- a]
self as a warrior and the son of a war- ^
rior, and as such proposed to do a war- ^
rior's part. With revolver in hand he a
lashed at the major, who still could not
regard him as anything but a harmless r<
Lad. Leveling his weapon as he rode, a]
Lie fired, buthither from excitement or 81
the changing positions of both parties, fj
[lis aim was defective and the snot whis- a]
tied harmlessly by Major Benteen's ](
tiead. Another followed in quick sue- 0
session, but with no better effect. All ^
this time the dusky little chieftain bold- ^
ly advanced, to lessen the distance be- ^
tween himself and his adversary. A 81
third bullet was sped on its errand, and H]
this time to some purpose, as it passed o;
through the neck of the major's horse,
3lose to the shoulder. Making a final 8,
but ineffectual appeal to him to surren- a]
der, and seeing him still preparing to p
lire again, the major was forced in self- ^
defense to level his revolver and dis- 8j
patch him, although as he did so it was ^
with admiration for the plucky spirit j,
exhibited by the lad, and regret often t]
expressed that no other course under a
the circumstances was left him. At- y
tached to the saddle bow of the young M
Indian hung a beautifully wrought pair ?
of small moocasins, elaborately orna- 0
mented with beads. p
One party of troopers came upon a ^
Rouaw endeavoring to make her escape, ?
leading by the hand a little white boy, ?
a prisoner in the hands of the Indians, a
and who doubtless had been captured
by some of their war parties during a u
raid upon the settlements. Who or ^
where his parents were, or whether still ^
alive or murdered by the Indians, will ^
never be known, as the squaw, finding p
herself and prisoner about to be sur- 0
rounded by the troops and her escape a
cut off, determined with savage malig- ^
nity that the triumph of the latter
should not embrace the rescue of the D
white boy. Casting her eyes quickly in
all directions to convince herself that *
escape was impossible, she drew from j.
beneath her blanket a huge knife and rj
plunged it into the almost naked body g
of her captive. The next moment
retributive justioe reached her in the J
shape of a well directed bullet from one j
of the troopers' carbines. Before the
men could reach them life was extinct in c
the bodies of both the squaw and her
unknown captive. t
The desperation with which the Indians
fought may be inferred from the fl
following : Seventeen warriors had g
posted themselves in a depression in the ^
ground, which enabled them to protect
their bodies completely from the fire of
our men, and it was only when the In J
dians raised their heads to fire that the j
troopers could aim with any prospect of *
success. All efforts to drive the war
riors from this point proved abortive t
and resulted in severe loss to our side.
They were only vanquished at last by
our men securing positions under cover j
and picking them off by sharpshooting
as they exposed themselves to get a (
shot at the troopers. Finally the last f
one was dispatched in this manner. In
a deep ravine near th9 suburbs of the .
village the dead bodies of thirty-eight .
warriors were reported after the fight ?
terminated. I
A rabid dog, near Hartford, in a run t
of ten miles bit thirty-one dogs, and all 1
have been killed* 1
A SORRY PICNIC PARTY.
'hree Person* Drowned?A Farmer and
hi* Yonnx Wife Die In Each Other's
Arms.
A terrible casualty occurred near Elred,
Pa. A mile and a half from the
ond is the farmhouse of Thomas
Jream. William, his son, was married
:> Annie Chase, of Buffalo, and came on
rith his bride to spend a few days at
tie homestead. A farewell picnic was
iven them at Seven-mile pond. Mrs.
Iream, the bride, and Emma Bream,
er husband's sister, expressed a wish
3 lie rowed around the Jake, and the
usband seated them in the boat, toether
with Maggie Sanders and Fred
rance. The boat was old and weather
eaten, and some of the older people in
tie party protested against so many gong
out in it. Vance declared that it
ras perfectly safe. Bream rowed out to
tie middle of the pond, where the water
5 very deep, and the boat was drifting
Ily about, when Vance rose suddenly
j his feet to point out to one of the
idies some object on the shore. As he
rose his whole weight was brought on
lie bottom of the boat, and oue of the
'orm eaten boards broke in two, making
n opening through which the water
ashed rapidly. Young Bream pulled
ard for the shore, and Vance snoutrt
for another boat; but the boat
lied so rapidly that in less than a minte
it was swamped, and the inmates
ere struggling for life in the pond, a
undred yards from shore.
Old Mr. Bream and a man named
imon Turner ran along the shore to get
other boat, which was some distance
way, while George Bates and Burt,
ifard jumped into the water and swam
ut to the aid of the struggling party,
oung Bream, who was a good swimmer,
rasped his wife when the boat sunk,
nd would have reached the shore safely
rith her had she not, in her terror,
lung to him so tightly that his movelenta
were hampered, and he could
nly work to keep himself and her afloat
atil the arrival of aid. Vance was an
xpert in the water, and thought he
ould support Miss Bream and Maggie
anders until ho was relieved, and he
ent at once to their aid. When he
sached them they both threw their
rms about him, and, in spite of his apeals
to them to unloose their arms, they
lung to him, screaming in terror. The
onsequence was that ha was entirely
elpless and at the mercy of the water,
d when Bates and Wade arrived the
iiree had sunk beneath the surface, and
ance was unconscious, while the girls
^ere still struggling wildly and retaining
their hold on the drowning man.
treaui shouted to Bates and Wade to
ive their attention to Vance and the
iris, as he could keep himself and wife |
float until they could help him. Bates
eized hold of Miss Sanders and tore her
>ose from Vance as they were again
isappearing from view. Wade tried to
sparate Miss Bream from Vance, but
Duld not loosen her grasp, so he told
lates to swim ashore with Miss Sanders
ad he would support Vance and the
ther girl until he came back or until
le boat arrived. The elder Mr. Bream
d Mr. Turner found that the boat they
ad gone after was half filled with wa?r,
and had no oars nor even a paddle,
nd was consequently useless.
In the meantime, George Bates had
jached land safely with Miss Sanders,
ad handed her over to her friends, who
icceeded in restoring her in a short
me. He then started back to the assistace
of his companion, who was calling
mdly for help. Young Bream had sucseded
in releasing his wife's tight
[asp, and getting her subject to his conrol,
started for shore. He had got
ithin a hundred feet of the shore when
iiddenly he threw up his hards and
louted : "For Christ's sake, some
ae help me!"
There was no one on shore who could
trim but the father of the young man,
ad he, though nearly seventy years old,
lunged in the water and started for his
rowning son. He had taken scarcely a
TrrVion tIiq rfinnor man disannPAred
SLKJIXKs ii uvu vuv jvumq r ^
eneatb the surface, his wife still clingig
to him. The old man swan] abont
lie spot ready to seize them when they
ame us, bnt they did not reappear.
Then her son went down Mrs. Bream
ras carried away unconscious. George
>ates reached the spot where his brave
omrade was, by herculean efforts, suporting
the burden of the unoonscious
rance and Miss Bream. Bates immeditely
took charge of the girl, and the
sro men started slowly, but as rapidly
s they were able, for shore, which they
rould never have reached but for the
nexpected aid that was extended to
hem. Simon Turner, who had gone
rith old Mr. Bream after the boat which
liey gave up as useless, subsequently
eturned to it, and turning the water
ut tore a piece of board off the stern,
nd with that as a paddle started out
ato the pond.
Bates and his companion were not
lore than half way to the shore, and
ust as they#had given up all hope of
aving either their charges or themselves,
hey saw Turner approaching them.
?hey put forth renewed exertions to
upport themselves, and were soon
lulled in the old boat, together with the
inoonscions bodies of Vance and Miss
Bream. Turner got safely to the shore,
nd the bodies were quickly taken in
iharge by anxious friends. Miss Bream
esponded to the efforts that were made
o restore her, and was finally resuscitaed,
but Vance was past all aid. Bates
nd Wade were completely exhausted,
,nd had to be carried from the boat.
)ld Mr. Bream had to be taken by force
,way from the spot where his son had
jone down or he would in a few minutes
lave shared a like fate. Next morning
Bates and Wade had so far recovered as
o be able to look for the missing bodes.
They were found at the bottom of
ho pond, their arms entwined about
?ch other. The clothing of Bream had
?ught in a projecting root or snag, and
le had thus been held beneath the water
intil both he and his bride were
Ircwned. He was twenty-six years old,
ihe eighteen. Vance was twenty-five,
ind a cousin of Bream. He was soon
o have been married to Maggie Sanlers,
who was rescued by Bates, and is
dmost insane over the tragic death of
ler lover. The father and mother of
ihe drowned couple are both prostrated
jy the sad affair, and a shook has gone
through the entire community.
ADYENTURES OF THREE TRAMPS.
An Old Farmer and hi* Wile Oaned and
III Treated?Twenty Tabs ef Batter and
a Hone and Wacon Stolen?Recovery el
the Froperty.
Jared Weils and his wife, old people,
live on a farm three miles from Port
Hickson, Pa., on the main road. Their
son, John Wells, lives a mile further on.
During the day three men, decently
dressed, stopped at the farm aud asked
for something to eat. Mrs. Wells gave
them a good dinner. The men were
good talkers, and as they ate obtained
of the old lady the information that she
and her husband lived alone; that they
made and shipped quite an amount of
butter from their farm, and that there
was then forty tubs in the cellar to be
sent away next day. The men went on
their way after finishing their meal.
About ten o'clock at night old Mr. Wells
was awakened by a loud knock at the
front door. He got up and asked: " Who
is there ?" Some one replied: "John."
The old farmer, supposing it was his son,
who was on his way home from the Tillage,
opened the door. Three men
instantly lushed into the room, and
he was knooked down, bound and
gagged before he could say a word. Mrs.
Wells was also secured in the same
manner.
The men then ransacked the house
from garret to cellar. From the latter
place Mr. and Mrs. Wells oonld hear
them rolling tabs of batter ap the steps
oatside. When they had secured what
planderthey could the men shat and
locked the door of the house and left
without saying a word to the helpless
old couple. Shortly afterward a wagon
drove up to the door. Into this the
farmer and his wife could hear them
loading the butter, and in a few minutes
it rumbled off down the road. About
ten o'clock next morning John Wells,
the son, drove up to the old people's
house to load up the butter that was
ready for shipment. He was compelled
to burst open the door to get in the
house, where he found his father and
mother lying on the floor as they had
been left by the thieves. He removed
their bonds and gags as soon as possible,
but they were so ill from their long
suffering that it was some time before
they could give any explanaiion of their
condition. It was then discovered that
tbe thieves had secured $75 in money,
aud bad taken the twenty tubs of butter.
They had driven away with these
in a onc-horse wagon. While these discoveries
were being made, Walter Jackson,
a farmer, living a mile and a half
back in the hills, drove up and said that
his barn had been entered the night be
fore and robbed of a valuable young
horse, together with harness and a light
spring wagon. It - was plain that the
horse thieves were the same that had
committed the robbery at Wells'. Parties
were sent as soon as possible to look
for traces of the thieves in all directions.
About noon they got a track of the
men in the road leading from the mine
road to Millerville. They were followed
to that place, fivo miles distant, and almost
the first object seen on entering
the village was Jackson's horse and
wagon standing in front of a tavern.
The butter had been removed from the
wagon. The constable entered the
tavern, where he learned from the landlord
that the horse and wagon had been
left tied in front of the hoose early in
Ktt IIivaa man toKa anfava^
tJLlCJ 1U1CUUUU uj IIIUCO 1UOU) nuv uuvuvu
the barroom, took a drink and walked
out, since which time they had not put
in an appearance. They were strangers,
bat their movements had created no
suspicion. Soon afterward Wells learned
that a groceryman had that morning
purchased a number of tubs of butter.
These proved to be the twenty tubs
stolen from the old farmer. The storekeeper
said that a man had driven up
to his store about eight o'clock in the
morning with the butter. He said that
he lived back of the mine road, and that
he had made a trade with old Mr. Wells
of some farm implements for the butter.
He wanted to sell it, and Orozier bought
the lot, payiDg the stranger, who gave
his name as Williams, nearly $200 in
cash. Crozier had also agreed to return
the tubs as soon as empty to Mr. Wells
He had not the slightest suspicion that
the butter had been stolen, the man's
manner was so assuring and his statements
so circumstantial. The parties
had evidently been smart enough not to
ofier the horse, and wagon for sale anywhere.
No trace of them has been
found since they left the tavern.
"Pet" Names in Public.
Lord Dufferin, in an address before
the female normal echool in Quebec the
other day, said : I observe that it is an
almost universal practice upon this oon
tinent, even on public occasions, in
prize lists, roll-calls, and in the intercourse
of general society for young ladies
to be alluded to by their casual acquaintances,
nay even in the newspapers,
by what in the old country we
would call their 11 pet" names?that is
to say, those caressing* soft appellations
of endearment with which their fathers
and brothers, and those which are
nearest to them, strive to give expression
to the yearning affection felt lor them
in the home circle. Now, it seems to
me to be a monstrous sacrilege, and
quite incompatible with the dignity and
self-respect due to the daughters of our
land, and with the chivalrous reverenoe
with which they should be approached,
even in thought, that the tender, love
invented nomenclature of the fireside
should be bandied about at random in
i 1 J-J OV..V.
ttie moutns 01 every empty ucnucu i.um,
Dick and Harry on the street whose idle
tongne may choose to babble of them.
For instance, in the United States, before
her marriage, I observed that Miss
Grant, the daughter of the occupant ol
the most august position in the world,
was generally referred to in the newspapers
as "Nellie," as though the paragraphiat
who wrote the item had been
her playfellow from infancy ; and even
Lady Dufferin, I see, has become
" Kate " in the elegant phraseology of a
United States magazine?though how
Kate could have been elicited from hei
excellence's real christian name I don't
know. Of course, this is a small matter
to whioh I have alluded, but it is not
without significance when regarded aa a
national characteristic.
Items of Interest.
W'at-er-fall there is when a waterfall
meets a downfall.
Nobody is more like an honest man
than a thorough rogue.
There are in Turkey over 40,000 persons
in prison for debt dne the g ovenmen
t.
" Borrow as you go," is popular, but
" borrow all you can and then go," is
more so.
In England, iron is rolled into sheets
as thin and as flexible as paper, and not
easily torn.
In 1875 the deaths of infante under
one year of age were equal to 102 per
1,000 in London.
A Spanish proverb : The man who, on
his wedding day, starts as a lieutenant in
his family, will never get promoted.
The commission in Borne revising the
Italian penal code is unanimously in
favor of abolishing capital punishment.
Dio Lewis says that a lady will eat
four times as much corn beef when alone,
as she will in the presence of other
people.
The oopper mines of Newfoundland
are being developed with great success,
and large deposits of lead have been discovered.
Of the Americans on the staff of the
commander of the Egyptian expedition
into Abyssinia, three were killed and
eight wounded. * v
Wood for a big bonfire was conveyed
to the top of Mount Davidson, Nevada,
by eight camels, each carrying about a
third of a cord.
Tne people in nonomm say mat m
that region it sometimes rains faster into
the bnnghole of a barrel than it can run
out at both ends.
A bold rascal on an Illinois railroad
train pretended to be the conductor,
collected all the fares in two care, and
jumped off with the money.
"These are only volunteers?not
regular soldiers," said Gen. Sherman to
Prince Oscar in Philadelphia, when three
of the militiamen "fell off their horses.
Dr. J. R. Nichols, a Boston chemist,
says that he has i.ever found a trace of
strychnine in whisky, and that "itis
a mistaken notion to suppose it is ever
used by distillers."
Temperance is rapidly increasing
among the British troop in India; 7,405
men are connected with the temperance
organizations, and 3,121 more are registered
as " off canteen."
Mr. Benliam, of Madison, Ind., noticed
a large snake coiled around the
bough of an apple tree in which a pet
dove was rearing her young. He killed
the snake, and in it the dove and her
brood were found still alive.
Plowing in unbroken furrows six
miles long can be seen in Fargo, California.
The teams start in the morning
and make one trip across the entire township
and back before dinner, and the
same in the afternoon, making twentyfour
miles' travel every day.
The deepest Atlantic soundings ever
made were about ninety miles north of
the island of St. Thomas, in 3,875
fathoms. The pressure was so great at
this immense depth that the bulbs of
the thermometer, made to stand a
pressure of three tons, broke.
A curious reaper from South Australia
is shown in Agricultural hall on the *
Centennial grounds. There arc n o knives
about it, the heads of the grain being
knocked off, after passing between long
fingers, by bars upon a revolving cylinder,
and deposited ic a great bin.
Poverty's Offering,
To be poor in a great city is to have
nothing, to be nobody, to be ever straggling
and planning for bread alone. This
fact might have entered the mind of a
lad who one day, walking by a cottage
tenanted by poverty and despair, tossed
his painted rubber ball to a little ragged
girl sitting on the doorstep. It was a
prize more valuable than the child
wonld have dared to have asked for,
and as she played with it there was more
snnshme in her heart than ever before.
Wealth and poverty maybe found with
only a fence between. The next house
to the cottage is almost a palace, and
one day a early-haired boy climbed
upon the fence, saw the ball in the hands
1 of the ragged girl, and wept because he
had none, though he might ha ve had a
hundred for the asking. He did not
climb np again, but a week later the knot
of white and black on the door told that
he was dead. The ragged girl heard
his name spoken, and, while weeping
relatives and grieving friends were moving
softly about, she ascended the
steps, stood in the open door and handing
out the ball, softly whispered:
"Please, ma'am, but your little boy
cried for my ball, and I didn t give it
up, and now he's dead, and if you'll
put it into his cofin III play with a ball
of mud and never be so stingy again!"
Poverty is sometimes wickedness and
degradation, but a nobler action or a
greater offering could not be made.
The millionaire who bad offered half his
wealth would* not have offered what
poverty's daughter did.
The Heated Term,
The very hot weather during July
rallw forth from the New York Tribune
"?j i-uj it
?110 IOIIOWIDg; V1U IODIUQUHO fJk vuu v*vjf
will compare this year's heat with that of
former summers, and doubtless proi
nonnce it inferior to the extraordinary
i summers of their reccoQection. They
i will recall the three hot weeks of Jane
and July, 1835, when men's minds were
i also ablaze with the fever of speculation
; the hot weather at the date of the
Croton celebration, which made its
i promises of cool water the more srel'
come; the dry, scorching weeks of 1845,
from the latter part of Jane to the ninth
of August; the three months of hot
weather in 1856, when all the grass disi
appeared, and there was almost a famine
i in feedstnfiEs; the summer of 1864, when
i for five weeks not a drop of rain fell, it
. is said, in the whole State of New York.
' Other years might be instanced of brief
er but equally excessive beat; aud *1i
though 1876 will go on record as among
1 the worst in respect to sunstroke mori
tality, its 154 deaths in three days do
k not surpass the fata'ity of the hottest of
recent summer*, >87*.