Port Royal standard and commercial. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1874-1876, August 17, 1876, Image 1
FORT RO"ST-A-I-i
' ? Standard and Commercial. ]
VOL. IV. NO. 37. BEAUFORT, S. C., THURSDAY, AUGUST 17, 1876. $2.00 per Aim Stnjle Copy 5 Cents.
In the Nigit Watches.
Dear night! this word's defeat;
The stop to bnsy fools care's check and curb;
The day of spirits; mysoul's calm retreat
Which none disturb!
Christ's progress and he prayer time;
The hours to watch hijh heaven doth chime.
God silent, searchingflight;
When my Lord's head s filled with dew, and
ail
His locks are wet with tie dear drops of night.
His still, soft call;
His knocking time; the tool's dumb watch,
When spirits their fair kndred catchThere
is in God, some sty,
A deep, but dazzling darkless ; as men here
Say it is late and dusky, because they
See not all clear.
Oh, for that night! when 1 in Him
Might live invisible and din!
The Mistake of a Lifetime.
A lovers' quarrel I A few hasty words
?a formal parting between two hearts
that neither time nor distance oould ever
disunite?then, a lifetime of misery.
Edith May stood before me in her
bridal dress. The whole world was to
be made believe she was happy and
heart whole. I knew better. I knew
that no woman who had onoe loved Gilbert
Ain?l;e could ever forget him?least
of all, such a heart as Edith's.
She was pale as a snow wreath, and
bent her head graoeiuiiy as a water my
in recognition of her numerous friends
and admirers.
44 What a sacrifice !" the latter murmured.
44 What a sacrifice I" my heart echoed.
Mr. Jefferson Jones was an ossified
old bachelor. He had but one idea in
his head, and that was to make money.
There was only one thing he understood
equally well?and that was to keep it.
He was angular, prim, cold and precise ;
mean, groveling, contemptible and cunning.
And E lith?our peerless Edith, whose
lovers were 44 legion "?Edith, with her
passionate heart, her beauty, grace,
taste and refinement?Edith, to vow
,44 love and honor " to such a soulless
block!
It made me shudder to think of it! I
felt as though his very gaze were profa
nation.
Well, the wedding was oyer, and she
was duly installed mistress of Jefferson
House.
She had fine dresses, flhe furniture, a
fine equipage, and the moet stupid incumbrance
in the shape of an old has
band.
But Mr. Jefferson Jones was very
proud of his bride : firstly, because she
added to his importance ; secondly, be
cause he plumed himself not a little in
bearing off so dainty a prize. It gave
him a malicious pleasure to meet her
old admirers, wifchjthe graceful Edith upon
his arm. Of course she preferred him
to them all?else, why did she marry
him?
Then how deferential she was in her
manner since their marriage; how very ,
polite, and how careful to perform her j
duty to thefletter! Mr. Jones decided,
with his nstial acumen, that there was
* - *?v i 4.1 i i
DO room TO uouos on tuat puuit> :
He noticed, indeed, that her girlish
gayety was gone; but that was a decided
improvement, according to his view.
She was Mrs. Jones now, and meant to
keep all whiskered popinjays at a respectable
distance.
He liked it!
And so, throng h those interminable
evenings, Edith sat, playing long games
of chess with him, or listening to his
gains or losses in the way of trade; or
reading politioal articles of which the
words conveyed no ideas to her absent
mind.
She walked through the busy streets,
leading on his arm, with an unseen form
ever a: her side; and slept next his
heart, when hers was far away I
Bat when she was alone?no human
eye to real her sad secret, her small
hands clasped in agony, and her fair
head bent to the very dust?was he not
avenged ?
*******
Itwasa driving storm. Mr. Jones
resolved to dine at a tavern instead of
returning home. He had jnst seated
himself, and given his order to the
obsequious waiter, when his attention
was attracted by the conversation of two
gentlemen near him. '
44 Have yon seen the beautiful Edith
since her marriage, Harry ?"
44 No; I feel too much vexed with her.
Such a splendid woman to marry such
an idiot! All for a foolish quarrel with
Ainslie. You never saw such a wreck as
it has made of him. However, she is
well punished; for, with all of her consummate
tact and effort to keep up appearances,
it is plain she is the most
miserable woman in existenoe; as Mr.
Jefferson Jones, whom I have never seen,
might perceive, if he wasn't, as all the
world says, the very prince of donkeys."
Jones seized his h t and rushed into
the open air. Six times he went, like a
comet, round the square, thon, settling
his beaver down over his brow, in a very
piophetic manner, he turned his foot
steps-deliberately homeward.
It was the deoeitful calm before the
whirlwind. He found Edith pale and
self-possessed, as usual. He was quite
as much so himself?even went so far as
to compliment her on a coquettish little
jacket that fitted her round figure very
charmingly.
44 I'm thinking of taking a short journey,
Edith," said he, seating himself by
her side, and playing with the silken
cord and tassels about her waist. 44 As
it is wholly a business trip, it would
hamper me to take you with me; but
you'll hear from me. Meanwhile, you
know how to enjoy yourself?hey,
Edith?"
He looked searchingly at her. There
\ was no conscious blush, no change of
expression, no tremor of the frame. He
might as well have addressed a marble
statue.
Mr. Jefferson Jones was posed! Well,
he bade her one of his characteristic
adieus; and, when the door closed,
Edith felt as if a weight had been lifted
off her heart.
Then was but one course for 1 er to
rnrsuc. She knew it she had already
K
marked it out She wonld deny herself
to all visitors; she would not go abroad
till her husband's return. She was
strong in her purpose. There should be (
no door left open for busy scandal to 1
enter.
Of Ainslie she knew nothing, save ]
that a letter reached her from him after 0;
her marriage, which she had returned the
unopened. And so she wandered hie
restlessly through those splendid rooms, tro
and. tried bv this self-inflicted penance, prr
to atone for the defection of her heart, jJJJ
Did she take her guitar, old songs that trn
they had sung together came unbidden pe
to her lips; that book, too, they had f,ra
read. Oh, it was all misery, turn where w0
she would! he]
Day after day passed?no letter from j0j
Mr. Jones. The time had already pass- me
ed that was fixed upon for his return,
and Edith, nervous from close confine- ^
ment, and the weary inward struggle, ne,
started like a frightened bird at every an(
footfall. mj
Ik came at last?the letter?sealed gat
with black. " He had been accidentally op
drowned. His hat was found; all search
for the body had been unavailing."
Edith was no hypocrite. She could ^
not mourn for him, save in the outward f^i
garb of woe. 0f
Ainslie was just starting for the con- ^
tinent, by order of a physician, when pe<
the news reached him. A brief time a|8
he gave to decorum, and then they mc
met. 0f
It is needless to say what that meet- pej
ing was. Days and months of wretched- ^
nes-s were forgotten, like some dreadful ^
dream. She was again his own Edith, aiil
sorrowing, repentant and happy. 0f
They were sitting together one even- pn
ing?Edith's head was upon his shoul- g0]
der, and her face radiant as a seraph's. nQl
They were speaking of their future J
home. cja
' Any spot on the wide earth but
this, dear Ainslie. Take me away from ^
these painful associations." j0
" Say you so, pretty Edith ?" said a
well known voioe. "I but tried that ^
faithful heart of yours to prove it. Pity j
to turn such a pretty comedy into a nol
tragedy ; but I happen to be manager an,
here, young man! said Mr. Jones, ftn
turning fiercely toward the bewildered
Ainslie. e(j
lilie revulsion was too dreadful. Edith cjlj
survived but a week. Ainslie bocame on(
hopelessly insane. wa
Two lives were thus sacrificed to the ^
mi'ifiakftH of a moment. i
Both had in that brief spaco opened fer
up the source of grief for life. ani
They would not hear and forbear when ye]
it was yet time, by kindly concession,
to repair the broach irritation bad made ^
and a brief word would havo amended. sw
Bat passion had its way, and the wa
grave only healed the wound caused by ^
the unguarded utterances. ^
? die
A Brare Soldier.
816
Out of, the many instances of indi-. mc
vicinal bravery which mu6t have signal tin
iaed the struggle for independence, few th<
have been preserved; but one, that has f01
been, lights up the melancholy darkness tui
of the scene with a peculiar brightness. aEl)
It the battle of Bunker Hill, John Gal- 8p
Render, a captain of artillery, had with- ba
drawn from the battle, and had dis- eV(
obeyed Putnam's orders to return. The ne;
battle over, Putnam declared that if mfl
Cullender was not cashiered or shot, he Ab
would himself leave the service. A bil
court-martial convicted him of coward- prj
ice, and dismissed him " from all fur- mc
ther service in the Continental army as jn
an officer." Coward or not, he was be!
brave enough to step down into the ^h(
ranks of the oompany he had command- gu
ed, The twenty-seventh of August th(
found him on the heights overlooking gR
F1 itbush. His captain and lieutenant
had fallen, his companions were begin- ani
ning to retreat. Springing in front of pje
them he ordered them to return and mac Ab
their pieoes. For a time his courage be
nourished theirs; but at length he stood r0(
alone, charging a field piece, while his rej
comrades were swept away by a tremendons
onset of the enemy. Courting frc
death, he made no signal of surrender ar)(
when the hostile bayonets were at his
breast; but a brave officer interfered in j
his behalf, and he was made a prisoner, bo
Washington, hearing of his oonduct, an
ordered the sentence against him to be ^
erased and his oommand to be restored
to him; and when, a year later, he was ex- ,
changed, he gave him his hand before the
army, in token of his great respect and wc
admiration. He left the service at the m"
end of the war with an enviable j0
reputation. ^
An Old Time ?irl. ^
We saw her on the street yesterday, th<
says the St. Louis Journal. She wore a tei
neatly fitting, plainly cnt and modestly ca:
trimmed calico dress. Her modest face
beamed with youth and beauty beneath
the graoeful folds of a gauzy green veil,
aud her rosy cheeks shone through it th
like a pair of large cherries. She didn't afl
| cairy ono-half of her dress in her hand an
high up to gratify the vulgar gaze of th
blackguards or to draw forth ludicrous an
and ungentlemanly remarks of corner
loafers. Nor was she pinned back so in
tight she couldn't step, and her heels to
didn't kick her tilter as high as the small at
of her back. She didn't walk "like a he
mule with a loose set of harness on and ac
flies bad. No; she wasn't dressed in a sil
style calcalated to attract the attention m
of any but true gentlemen, and of these wl
she commanded the utmost respect, and H
ii was paid her by all who, in meeting,, th
admired her. m
ta
What the Girl Did. oJ
cc
We recently mentioned the remarka- th
ble fact that an Illinois girl had sheared
thirteen sheep in two hours. The ^
?<equel of the 6tory is related by the ^
Chicago Journal as foil ^ws : w
"What do you think of the girl?" in- cj
quired our representative of the farmer
who owns the sheep that were operated o:
upon. ta
" Think 1" echoed the old fellow, as y(
he pointed to a pen of fine wool sheep, aj
" Jest you look at them sheep, will ye,
stranger?not an ear or a tail left t'the
whole crowd, an' then ask me what I o
think of that 'ere gal, if yer can 1" ti
The reporter viewed with wonder the ii
mutilated flock of mutton and agreed n
with the old farmer that sheeppens were ri
not exactly the place for the exercise of n
women's rights- P
MODERN CRUEL WARFARE.
9 Horror* of the Egyptian Abyssinia A !
'anpalgn?From 100,000 to 200,000
Ten Either Killed or Wonnded.l
i
?rom a private letter from an offioer .
the khedive's army in Egypt we take
> following : The result of the fight- ?
; in Abyssinia between the Egyptian ),
ops and KiDg John's army, the gov- 1
iment at first, it appears, feared to
ow?certainly feared to publish the JJ
ith, and not without good reason.
rhaps it was a continuation of her
ditional Oriental policy whioh has 7
rn a rut out of which she can't lift , J
rself. but must sooner or later be __
ted. A part of the Egyptian forces ^
t King John's army and gave battle,
5 fighting continuing three days. At /
) end of this time King John had lost jv
irly half his army in killed, wounded !
1 missing; the killed, wounded and ?e
ssing of Egyptians totaling about the
ne as the killed and wounded of the .
posing forces, which was variously es- ^
lated at trom 50,000 to 100,000 fight- a?
\ men. More than this, the day after ?T
) last day's fight, King John's army ?
I back one march and sent in a flag
truoe asking for an armistice. He an
d he had lost a great many of his
Dple in battle, as he supposed we had 7
o; that he did not wish to see any
re blood shed; that he was a friend
the khedive, and wished to live in fV*
ice with him. Ho thought terms of J
ice could be agreed on if the armise
should be granted. It was granted
i fighting ceased. The greater jiart
the troops have returned, and peace
ictically has been restored, though. J?
ne of the details in winding up may ,
t yet havo been concluded. oe
is it was publicly known and pro- ^
imed to the Abyssinians that their
ritory was not coveted by Egypt; that
} war was made only against King
hn and his followers, by the powers
whom it had been inaugurated, it is Ta
romprehensible why the general facts jv
;he results of the campaign?could
t have been published, and confidence r
1 respect, if not credit, sustained. To 71(
Amorican it is only necessary to say J?.
it the American 6taff officers connect- ,fl
with the expedition did their duty 68
iracteristically. Three were wounded, 8P
e of whom was captured,though after- 811
rd released, after some suffering from 8P
treatment. ?1C
Fou may form some idea of his suf- 52
ing, the horrors of his dreams night J;
I day, when I tell you that he was se- J"
rely wounded in the leg, then capred,
stripped to the skin, aims tied
iiind his back until the pains from the
elling became excruciating; made to
Ik thus for days without meat or
ink, in the unobscured sun of Abyslia,
with the full conviction that if he fr
1 not keep up with the horsemen he
uld be murdered. He was made to tte
ep without cover (naked) in the
fV?a ninlifo nra art ATklrl
'UUUUU3) lYUDiU UUU 1UQUIU 1UU XV
it two woolen blankets in addition to Wi
3 ordinary night clothing are but com- en
table. Then, several days after cap- 9?
:e, to see in all directions prisoners rf1
i friends forced by the pricks of J*
sars to flee for their lives, and then v*
rbarously shot down, with the fear ?
3ry moment that his turn would come
it; yes, in the midst of the frightful w<
issacre, to be seized by three or four
yssinians and huried to a neighboring ?
I where the foul deed could be more
vately accomplished?more in har>ny
with the usages of the people; and
ascending to be halted at a large rock ea
kind which he thought to say adieu to
) earth, and on which two of his JJ1
ardsmen and executioners sharpened a
;ir semi-circular shaped sabers, whose na
iting suggested thoughts of such hor- mi
>le mangling by their scimeters, dull
d awkwaardly wielded, as to find cu
jasurable emotions at the sight of an ?J
yssinian with a gun near by, whom ?
begged to shoot him. Every large
ik they came to was the same thing J10
Deated, until they got near the sum- Jia
t, when a horseman, it is supposed
>m King John, ordered their return, w!
d our friend's escape from a barbarous f.1
ath- ?
For two weeks he was guarded by
ys, whom he was obliged to follow, ?c
d who delighted in torturing him by
reatening motions of mutilation and
ath. . f1
Df the headquarters staff three were 10
Jed and eight wounded. Among the P3
innded are Col. Dye. Major Johnson, | *?.
, D., and Major Wilson, M. D. Dr. ??
linson has recovered; the other two
11 in time. Let me assure you that if 8lr
3 expedition did not meet the expecions
of those persons who thought
0 subjugation of Abyssinia was in- 01
ided, it was not the fault of Amerilis.
'
te
Take Counsel with Yourself. tt
Young men cannot estimate too highly ^
e advice of parents and friends. It
fords them the benefit of experience,
d is given from sincere solicitude for f?
eir welfare. It should be remembered, J*
d weighed and acted upon.
But, after all, every man has his own J
dividual existence; he has his own life 9.'
live, for which he olone is account **
>le. He should derive all the benefit ~
> can from the counsel of those older B
id wiser than himself. Then he should ?
b down and meditate bv himself, and A
ake up his own mind a?to the course Y'
bich he wishes to pursue in the world, ^
aving done this he should enter upon 8
ie execution of his plans with a deter- ^
ination to accomplish what he under- A
kes without reference to the opinions l(.
: others. No man is of any real ao>unt
in the world unless he is some- "
ling in and of himself. v
No man possesses real strength if he
mnot, after having heard all that others
ive to say, resolve, and resolve firmly,
hat to do, and carry his resolution into
feet. d
Take counsel of others; profit by their i'
tperience and wisdom; but, above all, y
ike counsel with yourself; make up i]
our own mind what to do in this world, t!
ad?do it! h
i
A Custer Monument.?The citizens li
f Monroe, Mich., General Custer's na- d
ve city, have taken steps toward erect- f
lg a magnificent monument to the a
lemory of tuat officer and his com- a
ides. The New York Herald is also c
ii3ing a subscription for the samo pur- c
ose- $
COLLIE DOG TRIALS.
Scene at Alexandra Park?The Sagacity
of Sheep Doge?An Exhibition of Welsh
Canines.
The London Standard has the followj
: It has occurred to the Kennel club,
x>dy of gentlemen who are interested
the improvement of dogs of all breeds,
at the collie trials which had proved
suooessful in Wales might be carried
a little nearer the metropolis. &nd
ey therefore organized a meeting in I
0 Alexandra park. The mode in <
lich the trials are conducted is as folvs
: A flock of Welsh wethers, one
mdred in number, have been brought i
?to the park, and were penned near
e grand stand on the racecourse,
om this flock three animals were taken
1 J fr> fhn Ridfi of I
iiu&tuu, mm wmujvu - ?? -e
hill on which the palace stands and
b at liberty. On the circular cricket 1
ound, some half mile to the west, a
angular pen of hurdles, with an open5
in th^ base, formed a sort of station,
out which are grouped the judges and
icials of the show, and from which the
epherd with the dog that was about to
i tested took his departure. The man
d dog walked together along the racenrse
until the sheep wore sighted,
ion he gave a sign or a word to his
ar footed companion, and the intellint
brute at once started off at a gallop
d sought fir> t to drive the sheep down
e hill toward his master. When he
d succeeded in doing this, the man
dked toward the pen, and the dog
ove the sheep after him until they
>re near enough to operate in getting
e sheep inside. Twenty minutes was
o maximum time allowed, the prizes
ing won by those who succeeded in
uning their sheep in the shortest time,
lile those who failed to pen within the
otted time were disqualified. It was
it difficult to discover that dogs and
eep were working under great disadntages,
and animals which have no
iul-t a well deserved reputation on
eir own hills failed to distinguish
c-mselves under totally novel oondims,
though enough was demonstrated
make it apparent that these collie
als are likely to become a very interting
annual performance. Though a
ace of ground was marked off by ropes
d stakes, which were respected by the
ectators, the sheep felt under no restric>ns,
and the poor collie, therefore, that
d been used to the clear view of a
elsh hillside, with no human being
it his master within miles of him, had
dodge his charges among visitors and
und plantations, which frequently hid
em altogether. The sheep were many
them very wild and ran like deer,
eir disinclination to proceed in the diction
of the pen being increased from
e main flock being in full view, and
us stimulating the natural ovine tennoy
to rejoin companions. In several
ses, on the dog nearing the three
eep, the nimble and independent
jthers scattered and galloped in differt
directions out of sight, when the
llie, after an honest attempt to bring
em together, seemed to conclude that
was hopeless to complete the task in
enty minntes, so he philosophically
opped it altogether and trotted back
his master. Some of the triads of
)thers behaved in a manner more in
cordanoe with the gregarious traditions
their race, and when, in addition to
nging together, they happened to
irt in the right direction down hill,
e first portion of the dog's work was
sily and speedily done. The marvelis
sagacity of this breed was seen when
e sheep were near the pen and the dog
id to overcome their natural disincli,tion
to enter. Not only did the anir.1
iri tVlia nnaiHnn nVwr prprr nf(m ATlfl
IU 111 UUiO ^yvuiWAvru VWVJ w *
)rd of his master, but he would exerse
what might almost be called his
m reason and discretion in the mode
carrying out his master's wishes in a
3hion that was astonishing. Success,
twever, depended altogether on the beivior
of the throe particular sheep,
ae famous dog named Handy, which
ra the champion prizes two years run
ng in Wales, was very unfortunate in
is respect. He succeeded in getting
em to tho pen in splendid style, but
>thing could induce the brutes to enr.
They broke away a score of times,
id, after a display of ability worthy of
s high reputation, poor Handy failed
accomplish the task within the twenty
inutes. The most successful perrmance
was that by a slut named Made,
belonging to Mr. John Thomas, of
Ella. Favored by tractable wethers,
le succeeded in a little over four mines.
A famous dog named Boy did the
ork in seven and a half minutes. Anher
called Laddie took nine minutes,
id two others, Pentre and Tweed,
reive minutes each. There were nineen
entries for the all-aged stakes, and
lese were tested. Mr. Lownds' Ladle
perhaps showed the highest training,
f the way in which he followed every
otion of his shepherd's hand ; now
rcling round, now creeping nearer to
te dock, and then sitting on his
ranches until the signal to move again
as given. The man who worked the
eg had not seen him for twelve months,
ut the triumph in point of quickness
as reserved for Mr. Jones' young dog,
oy, who brought his charge to their
en in seven minutes and a half. Mr.
homas' Maddie also penned his sheep
ery well. It is curious that all these
ere Welsh dogs belonging to Welsh
. < - It- L 1
razors, Dut men me great uumu w
allies?Scotland?was not represented,
lie English dogs nearly all managed to
it their sheep wander in freedom "over
le hills and far away," but Mr. J.
Uendinny's Tool got his lot together
ery well, and penned them cleverly.
A Dyer.
A wealthy resident falls ill and the
octor is called in. He feels the
avalid's pulse, examines his tongue and
rritts a prescription. In the drawingQg-room,
as he is going out, he meets
he invalid's wife. "Doctor, how is
ie?" "Madam, very ill indeed."
'Heavens! Of what disease?" "Scaratina!"
" Scarlatina ? At his age ? How
lo you know it I" " By his hands. The
ever has broken out on them and they
re all red!" "But, doctor, they always
,re !" " Always are ? How?" "Ob, it is
lye." " Dye ? Then your husband is a
Iyer ?" " At your service." " Why did
rou not tell me so at first ?"
RELICS OF THE PAST.
A Grent .Hound In Pennaylvanla?Skele- fj
tona of Ancient People.
The Canonsburg (Pa.) ITcrald has
the following: We made a visit to an *r
interesting mound, containing the re- n
mains of a large number of human P
bodies. This mound is one of two sit- ^
uated on the farm of Wm. Boon, in Peters
township, Washington county. The d
mound visited is situated on the highest a
ground in a field near the Boon resi- a'
dence. It has been almost entirely 11
dug over, and its proportions destroyed.
A short time since Mr. Boon, needing "
Btone for some purpose on his farm, removed
the earth at this elevation, and ?
was surprised at the regularity of poeition
presented by the stones, it evidently a
appearing that they were placed there
in some systematic order. Another pe- 0
culiarity also presented itself, and that
was that there were many kinds of stone b
deposited there, some of them originally "
from distant localities. This led him to
more closely investigate the mound, T
when he found evidences of an extensive ?
burial place. On careful observation, it u
was manifest than one-half of the elevation
had been at some remote time dis- n
turbed. In that part of the remainder 9
which he inspected he found the remains
of at least eleven or twelve human ^
bodies. These remains were very much a
decayed, even the bpst preserved presonting
but fragments of the bones, b
The flat and spongy bones had almost d
uniformly disappeared, and in most ,
cases the long bones broke at a touch, b
showing that the bodies to which they
* * ^ ' 1 iVtAVA A W
oeiongea nau ueeu putcou iucio ?
many years ago. In some instances tho j3
ribs, jaw bones, and teeth and the phalanges
of hands and feet were passably n
well preserved. 0
The bodies seemed to have been arranged
according to a very peculiar sys- a
tem. Mr. Boon informed us that he
found in each instance the bodies radiating
like the rays of a star from a
central bowlder against which the head
of each body was placed. Underneath 0
the.shoulders of each he found a flat, r
shelvy kind of stone. The remaining 81
stones, used as a wall of separation or a 8
covering (this was hard to determine, *
from the advanced stage of decay), were !
systematically placed or built, so that *
they overlapped and made it difficult to 13
remove them unless the keystone could P
be first found. v
With Mr. Boon's assistance we bared 0
the earth from the stones in one place ?
and saw something of their peculiar "
disposition. In this case the body had ?
been entirely amalgamated with the u
surrounding earth. The peculiar nature 13
of the soil, and the shape of the body? a
which could be traced?indicated the
certainty of this assimilation. We se- v
cured some of the best specimens of the 0
bones.
There is every evidence that the persons
whose bones have thus been dis- F
covered died long since, possibly cen- J
turies ago. The soil containing their re- 1
mains is elevated and dry, and the sur- J
ronndings, one would think, favorable to
their long preservation, and yet, as inti- 8
ir ated, in some instances only the
slightest trace of their existence could v
be obtained. Who were these people ? ,
Who placed their bodies here ? Were 4
they of a pro-historic race ? j
: c
The Torture* of a Turtle. i
A big, green sea turtle splashed impa- ^
tiently in the narrow limits of a large *
box in front of an eating house. One 8
eye rested reflectively on a sign which ^
announced that the turtle which to-day t
is, to-morrow is cut up and cast into the 0
pot, while the other was closed as if in v
meditation. The turtle sighed, and a
reporter leaned over the box and gently
inquired: " v
" Why that sigh ? Is it that you are E
thinking of the dark blue sea from f
whence you have been ruthlessly torn ?
Is it that you grieve for an absent turtle
maiden, whose eyes had learned to light
up with the fire of love at the souna of
vour eentle jaws as they clashed in greet- <
ing, or over whose cheek the soft rosy
blush of affection came at the tender x
pressure of your fins?" 8
"Ah !" replies the turtle, " you will $
never know the anguish that lends this ^
bosom. If thou wouldst list, I could j.
tell thee a tale that would moke thy j
heart bleed, of a family proud and dis- ^
tinguished, for noble blood courses in T
their veins, but I will not. I would a
only have you know that my very shell a
creeps at the thought of the existence I ^
have led for twenty years?to think that ^
I, a well moaning turtle, should be f
forced into the life of a ' bunko steer- f
er.'" i
"What mean you ?" said the re (
porter. t
"Bend'lower, while I whisper," said ^
the turtle, in an excited voice; "tliey j
never cook me. Kuo w that for twenty ?
years I have done duty at this place, a j
few days to be stared at by little boys (
and gloated over by gourmands, autici- (
pating a rare meal from my flesh, and j
then to be put in the cellar for a few }
days while the public eats soup made j
from veal and liver. I cannot stand (
this life long. It is bringing mo in sor- j
row to the grave." (
Here the turtle dashed a tear from his ,
eye with his left fin, silently swallowed (
a fly, and retired into his shell to mourn .
alone. (
Modern and Ancient Navies.
Modern naval architecture has largely 1
borrowed from the ancients. Only witnin
about twenty years America and
Europe adopted the ram both for offensive
and defensive purposes in naval
warfare, but the war vessels of the
Greeks and Romans were built on the
same principle. And the extent of the
navies of old is something remarkable.
The tonnage of the British navy, the
largest of this day, is about 300,000 tons,
but the Athenians, 355 years before the
Christian era, being a republic with less
than 2,000,000 of inhabitants, sustained
a navy of 411 rams, with a tonnage of
103,577 tons, with 90,000 men, and the
Romans, in a single naval battle with
the Carthagenians, brought into action
364 rams, of 193,376 tons, manned by
120,(foO fighting men. The fleet of
Xerxes, which the Athenians defeated
at Salamis, consisted of 1,207 rams, of
280,627 tons, and manned by 840.0^0
men.
Hints About Bathing.
Strong men may bathe before breakist,
but the beet average time is about
iree hours aiter breakfast
Walk at a moderate pace to the bathlg
ground, so as to be neither too hot
or too oold, and undress as speedily as
ossible, putting on your bathing dress
ithout delay.
It is better to plunge at onoe into
eep water; don't unless you can swim,
owever, but rather after bending down
ud laving the face and both arms, drop
ight underneath the first wavelet.
Wear a bathing cap, especially if a
uly.
If you can swim, swim and nothing
lse; if you cannot, you can at least
amble about and keep moving, and
lso rub your limbs with the hands.
Come out before you have actually
eased to enjoy yourself.
It is better to have in your bathing
ouse your own towel, one at least, and
3t it be moderately rough.
Remove your bathing dress. Rub
our face, shoulders, limbs and body,
sing moderate friction, and finish dry
ig with a smoother toweL
When quite dry, dress, and it ought
ot to be at all necessary to dress
uickly.
If faintness or sickness comes on,
rhich must be looked upon as quite an
ecident, lie down for a few minutes.
After dressing, a brisk walk should
e taken; and now a lunch biscuit will
o you service.
Remember that the glow after the
ath is the grand event to be looked for.
If instead of this glow a decided oliill
?kes place, and if not removed by a
ri?jlr umllr. a small dron of brandy,
iken along with a biscuit, becomes a
ecessity, or for ladies a glass of some
ordial.
Don't forget flannel underclothing if
b all delicate.
A True Hero.
The city of Marseilles, in France, was
nee afflicted with the plague. So terible
was it that it caused parents to for&ke
their children, and children to foret
their obligations to their own paents.
The city became as a desert, and
iinerals were constantly passing through
lie streets. Everybody was sad, for noody
could stop the ravages of the
lague. The physicians could do noth3g,
and as they met one day to talk
ver the matter, and see if something
ould not be done to prevent the great
estruction of life, it was decided that
otliing could be effected without openag
a corpse in order to find out the
lysterious character of the disease. All
greed upon the plan, but who should
>e the victim, it being certain that he
dio should make the examination would
ertainly die soon after.
There was a dead pause 1
Suddenly, one of the most celebrated
ihysicians, a man in the prime of life,
ose from his seat and said: " Be it so;
devote myself to the safety of my
ountry. Before this numerous assem>ly,
I swear, in the name of humanity
nd religion, that to-morrow at the
>reak of day I will dissect a corpse, and
n-ite down what I observe."
He immediately left the room, and, as
te was rich, he made out a will, and
pent the night in religious exercises.
5 arii] g the day a man died in his house
if the plague, and at daybreak on the
ollowing morning, the physician, whose
tame was Guyan, entered the room, and
riticaliy made the neoessary examinaions,
writing down all his surgical obervations.
He then left the room, threw
he papers into a vase of vinegar, that
hey might not convey the disease to anither,
and retired to a convenient place,
rhere he died in twelve hours.
Thus died a true hero!
While we all admire the bravery
rhioh appears on the battlefield, let us
tot forget that there is an opportunity
or the heroic in other placos as well.
How to Breakfast.
Let a healthy man "break" his
' fast" with a substantial meal, and not
ireak his breakfast with irritating little
rips or slops beforehand. After the
to roach has at its leisure emptied itself
luring sleep of its contents, and sent
hem to repair the worn tissues and exLausted
nerve force, and the blood has
>een purified by washing and dressing
' * 2+m 4k/\ Aj m
ntli tne winaow open, meu is uo uud
vhen the most perfeot of all nutritive
jtides, farniaceous food, oan be con*
nmed in larger quantities with advanage.
Batter also, and fat and sugar,
roublesome customers to weak digeeions,
ore then easily coped with, and
ontribute their invaluable aid to perorming
the duties of the day. For
example, many persons can drink milk
o a fair and useful amount at breakfast,
vith whom it disagrees at all other
lours. And the widely advertised
"breakfast bacon "by its name warns
;he consumer against indulgence later
)n in the day. Cafe au lait and sweet
sreamy tea are to many men poisonous
in the afternoon, though in the prime of
morning they are a wholesome beverage
for the same individuals, Let the vigor,
s;ood humor and refreshment then felt
by a healthy man be utilized without
delay in eating a hearty meal immediately
after he is dressed and not frittered
away in the frivolities of other occupations.
Let not reading, writing or
business?muscular, political or economical?exhaust
the nervous system. The
newspapers and letters Aould not be
opened, preferably not delivered, till
the appetite is thoroughly appeased.
A Fighting Trick.
They call it the " fighting trick " in
Detroit. A benevolent looking man enters
a drinking saloon, followed soon
after by a wiry little fellow who invites
No. 1 to take a drink and a cigar. The
liquor is swallowed, the cigars are
lighted, when suddenly No. 2 exclaims :
" For thirty loug years I have followed
your trail day and night 1 You broke
up my happy family, villain that you
are, but now come out here and fight
me like a man!" " I will fight you tc
the death!" is the determined reply,
and both rush into the back yard. The
agitated barkeeper runs to the front
door, whistles tor a policeman, and hur
ries to the back door just in timo to ae?
a coat tAil disappearing over the fenoe
Then he begins to realise the skuftttosi
Little Joe.
He tired tostand in front of the postoffioe
and yell: " 'Ere's your papers!"
a few weeks ago?a ragged, sad eyed,
light haired boy, frail and hungry look
ing. No one noticed him; no one oared
for him; even his fellow newsboys, with
whom he seldom associated, knew him
only as " Dominie." Yet he was at his
ppst from early dawn till late at night,
always civil and obliging, never boisterous,
ever attentive to business. Of late
little Joe has been missing. They missed
him first at the news offices, where
he was a general favorite. He had been
weary looking and haggard for days, and
when he came in for his morning papers
he would take a drink of water
and lie down on a bench for half an
hour.
One morning Joe woke np on the
steps of a house and found that he oould
not move. His head ached, bis eyes
were dim and his hands and feet were
swollen. His tongue, which seemed to
be burning, was dry and cracked; and
ho was frightened when he saw the door
open and heard the hired girl call to her
mistress:
" Missus, missus, here's a sick boy on
the dqprsteps."
And little Joe again tried to get to his
feet, but failed.
The mistress came out and saw the
little fellow. She bent over him and
asked:
" Little boy, what is your name!"
" Little Joe," he murmured.
" Can't you get up ?" kindly asked the
lady.
The little fellow made a fruitless attempt,
but it weakened him so that he
fell back again on his stone bed and begun
to cry.
"Poor boy!" said the lady, as she
called the hired girl. And both of them
lifted the nearly unconscious form of
little Joe and carried him to a bed in a
quiet room in the rear of the house.
Next morning Joe was no better, and
his nurse waited cn him tenderly. He
.w.nl/3 nnln 1/vlV (Wlf/itTldft ftt her the \
uvuiu vmjr
poor little street vraif know no words of
thanks, accustomed as he had been to
the rougher side of life in the busy metropolis.
Joe wanted to look out of the window.
They propped him up with pillows, and
he felt happy. He longed to be woll
again.
Then he grew delirious, and would
cry in a strangely altered tone:
"Mister, here's your papers!"
Next day little Joe was no more. The
kind lady, who had learned to love him
while she ministered to his wants, wopt
a few tears over the inanimate form of
the motherless waif. But who misses
him from among the throng of busybodies
who como and go at the postoffice
f The newsdealers say: " Guess
Dominie Joe's gone up the river somewhere;"
but none of them think that
the poor little fellow has been taken
away from this world of sorrow to the
only Father he ever knew.
A California Play.
Bret Harte's drama has been acted
and met with success. A correspondent
says the personnel^ the play is as follows:
One First Class "Masher," to act as a
well circumstanoed barkeeper, or as a
gambler or a first-chop swindler.
One Young Reprobate, afflicted with
delirium tremens, a soft heart, a husky
voice and a maudlin regard for his
mother's sex.
One Old Fraud, morally muddled between
early iniquity and eleventh-hour
repentance.
Another Old Fraud, embodying the
extinct abolitionist idea of Southern
chivalry, a strictly comic person, using
the ante-bellum plantation dialect; a
lawyer by profession not by practice, a
colonel by courtesy, a braggart, a theoretical
imbiber of gore and apronounoed
tippler of juleps.
One Mexican Don, descended from
the old Castile breed, living in rich rej
tirement on his "soap."
One Small Heathen, a sample of broken
China.
One Yaquero, for emergencies.
One high stepping, recreant Mexican
Donna,Jaundioed and jealous.
One Yankee Schoolmarm, suitable [for
a cold missionary's wife.
One Absurd Female, dubious as to the
orthodox number of husbands, but
sound hearted and stylish.
One conventional, consequential, attractive,
flirting, guitar twanging Attendant
upon the donna above specified.
The story of the play is as follows:
Old Morton, who was a disgraceful -
father onoe upon a time, ana who uj
a combination of bad examplo and
brutality drove his son Alexander to the
bad via the California mining camps,
has, to use the dialect of the play,
"tumbled to himself" and reformed to
such an extent that, in oompany with
Colonel Star bottle, his legal leech and
adviser, he has crossed the continent in
search of his long lost son, to restore
him to his rightfol position and inheritance.
John Oakhnrst, who is about as .
bad aa the devil can make them, even in
California, is mistaken by the old man
for the prodigal for whom be has advertised,
and Oakhnrst, in order to advance
a love match with Jovita, concludes to
second the old party's delusion by filling
the position of profit and emolument so
suddenly opened np before him. The
last act is a sequel to the first, the
intermediate acts having little if anything
to do with the play itself. Sandy
Morton, who has been in liquor pretty
steadily ever since the pi ;y began, now
straightens np and becomes aware of the
presence of his father and of the cheat
which his former "partner," John Oakhurst,
had put upon himself and the old
man. But the tragedy anticipated by
Colonel Star bo* tie when the deception is
1 disclosed does not take place. Nobody
1 hurts anybody. A general make up
1 follows. Marriages are opportunely arranged,
with tableaus, benediction,
music and descending curtain.
i
; A very daring Kentucky girl lately
) rode her horse close up to the edge of a
, yawning chasm and prondly defied any
i gentleman of the party to follow her
; example. Not a soul stirred except one
- youth, who boldly backed his horse
> into the same position, and, standing on
f his head in the saddle, dared her to do
i i the aame? She concluded sot tot