Port Royal commercial and Beaufort County Republican. [volume] (Port Royal, S.C.) 1873-1874, December 11, 1873, Image 1
vat tv ata in PORT ROYAL, S. C? THURSDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1873.
T VU. JL V XIV. XV.
0
Long Ago. h
Two rosea bloomed upon a tree; ^
Their wnite leaves touched with every away- e,
lug.
bent to gather one, while ebe h
Plucked off the other, gently aayiDg, a:
' When things do grow and cling like this, t<
And Death almost appeareth loath gi
To take but one, 'twere greater bliss I
To both for Death to smite them both." .
Lost Love! Dead Love! They come and go ^
1 The summers with their snn and flowers,
Their song of birds. I onlyJsnow
There is a blight upon the hours. c
No sun is like the once bright sun
That shone upon that golden weather, e:
In which she said those flowers were on$, t<
And Death should spare or smite together. ri
. d
JTIE RIVAL CLAIMANTS. ?
* Who Mr. Wilsen was, whence lie *
came, and what had been his antece[
dents, were points on which the good 0
(people of Pokebury remained as unen- n
lightened after he had dwelt ten years t<
among them, as they were at his first j?
coming. r
His health had been for some time d
failing, and one day I was sent to write s'
his will. The instractions he gave me
were very brief. He wished bis entire _
estate to be vested in trustees, the an- n
nual income to be deveted to certain n
specified charities; bnt in case his n
brother,, of whom he had lost sight for n
many years, proved to be alive and ]j
should be discovered, the above be- b
quest was to become thenceforward
null, and the entire property to go to ^
the brother. c]
"This brother?have you any clew
that may lead to his discovery ?" I C(
asked. ii
" None," he answered; " and I greatly
fear, for certain reasons, that even if C(
he be living he will never, voluntarily,
make himself known." C
" Few people purposely keep out of h
the way of good fortune,"I remarked. a
Ho made no answer, but seemed to S(
be reflecting deeply.
"I wish to confide a secret to you," w
he paid, at length. " May I clo so
safely?" "
" A lawyer's oath, I answered, " for- ti
bids him to betray his client. Yon may
speak with freedom and safety." . n
" My words may place my brother's tl
life in your hands," he said; "yet it li
may 6till be possible to clear np a hor- r<
rible suspicion which, for years, has
haunted me. I have read of so many ti
cases in which it came out that men
were innocent whose guilt seemed prov- f<
ed to demonstration that I blame myself
for not sooner seeking aid in the a]
solution of a dreadful mystery, instead
of helplessly brooding over it." cl
He paused, as if 6till hesitating to ni
disclose his secret. The indecision, w
however, was but momentary.
"My brother Charles and myself,"
he resumed, " were brought up in a 6j
distant city by a wealthy uncle, of d
whom I was the favorite. el
" Charles was younger than I, by h
some years. He was a light-hearted,
affectionate boy, a little wild and ex- h
travagant, but not vicious?just the per- a|
son, on the whole, not to meet the ap- o]
probation of our strict old uncle.
44 When the latter made his will, he y<
left the bulk of his fortune to me, appointing
me also trustee of the very p;
moderate provision made for my y<
brother.
44 Charles expressed no displeasure at t;
this. Be placed too little value on p;
money, I thought, or had too much con- a
fidence in my generosity to care which
of us our uncle 1< ft his wealth to. it
44 Not long after the will was made, r<
retnrning home *ne night, I found the
front door unlocked. I paid but little ai
attention to tho circumstance, at- gj
tributiug it to the carelessness of the tc
servant.
" Oa reaching my room, I discovered w
that I had not with me u valuable book m
which I had started with from a public
library to which I was a subscriber. I w
had stopped to visit a friend on the way, Cc
and conjectured that I migfht have left
the volume at his room. I determined ai
to act on the surmise, and return to my sc
friend's at once. m
" As I passed out of the door, I met pj
Charles coming in. I do not know if I
spoke to him in my haste. I found the
btok where I supposed it was, and hud tc
nearly reached my uncle's door agnin, di
when I saw it open and mv brother ?
rush out excitedly, and walk rupidly
away. pi
" I met the housekeeper in the hall- p]
way. She seemed to be paralyzed with
fear. H
" 'I'm afraid something terrible has m
happened,' she said, recovering her n<
voice with an effort. 9 In
What is the matter?' I asked. in
"'Ob, sir,' she answered, 'Mr.
Charles ran out of his nucle's room just in
now, looking like a ghost, and having tli
a bloody knife in his hnnd. He passed
me without speaking, and hurried ni
from the house before I could say a m
word !'
" I went at once to my uncle's apart- al
ment. A ghastly spectacle met my ?t
sight ! My uncle lav lifeless in his d<
blood ! The gas was burning brightly, fr
and every detail of the horrid scene was uj
appallingly distinct. cc
" My uncle had beeu stabbed through
the heart. IIis secretary stood open, 01
rti'.l lift woo cfrnnrti wiiVi nonCTQ /ir
" Like a flash of lightning the ques- h<
t-ion presented itself, ' Can my brother Ci
have committed this deed ?' His flight, it
the housekeeper's statement, his possible
resentment at our uncle's will? fn
all seemed to point to one conclusion, u]
much as I strove to close my mind rc
against it. ei
" I called for help. Tlie housekeeper m
and servants came in answer to the m
alarm. The former fell fainting at the fr
sickening sight, nr.d had to be carried te
to her room, where, fortunately, she re- ol
mained for a season in a condition which li
prevented her from relating what she si
had seen.
t " The anthoritieH were untitled and tc
an inquest heltl; but nothing affording rc
a clew to the murderer was elicited. I in
v, is the only witness examined. What w
the housekeeper could reveal, was fi
known only to myself and her. She o<
ad been Charles' nurse, and was deoted
to bim, and it needed only a bint
iat speaking might put bim in peril,
ETectnally to close her mouth.
"I was questioned only as to what I
ad seen after entering the house, and
nswered fully and truly. If in failing
> tell what I was not asked about?the
aspicious circumstances under which
had seen my brother leave the house
-I trifled with my oath, I can only beg
tie forgiveness of Heaven. What the
ousekeeper had told me of course was
earsay, and inadmissible at secondand.
" The coroner never thought of
ailing her.
" I gave our friends some plausible
zplanation of Charles' absence, hoping
9 myself, from day to day, he might
sturn and relieve my mied from its
istracting doubts; but through all
lie long years that have since followed,
e has never, to my knowledge, been
een or heard of.
. ... . 1 - #?j?
" 1 leei tuat were neiouuu auu piwou
n trial, should all the evidence oome
ut, any jury would oonviU him. For
lyself, I have fought, night aud day,
a drive away the torturing suspicion,
ut it will not leave me. I left my naive
city and came hither, fearing, if I
emaine'd, I should not long be able to
ivert attentiou from my brother's
trange absence.
"I have now told you all. To-mornw
I will put in your hands a 6um
ufficient to defray whatever expense it
lay be necessary to incur in restoring
le, if possible, my brother freed from
listrust."
Mr. Wilsou's startling narrative left
ie little hope of being able to gratify
is wishes. The proefs against his
rother seemed unanswerable; aud
lere was slight reason to expect that a
ir.n in hiding for bucIi a crime would
oluntarilv expose himself to the
liances of detection.
I prepared Mr. Wilson's will in aojrdance
with his wishes, and he placed
1 my hands the money ho had promled.
He died, however, before any disDveries
were made.
T now advertised cautiously for
harles Wilson, mentioning the fact of
is brother's death, and stating that by
)mmunicating with pie he might learn
imething to his advantage.
I was seated in my office one day,
hen a stranger entered.
VI? *1 99
"l am unarms wusou, un duiu,
and have come to answer to your noce.
I looked at him narrowly. There was
o great resemblance between him and
ie late Mr. Wilsoti; yet the want of
keness was not sufficient, of itself, to
?nder their relationship improbable.
" What proof have you of your identy
?" I inquired.
" I can mention all the family names,
>r one thing," he answered.
"A little preparation might enable
ay one to do that," I replied.
" I have a ring given me by my uu!e,"
he said, a little reluctantly. "His
smc is in it. It was a parting present
hen I left home."
" Let me see it," I requested,
ne took from his pocket and undone a
nail parcel. It contained an elegant
iamond ring. The gem was costly nnd
legantly set. The uume was there as
e had stated.
" By the way," I added, turningupon
im quickly, " are you not a little
fraid to present yourself as a claimant
F your brother s fortune ?"
"Why ?" he asked, with evident nerousness.
"Did it ever occur to you," I exlained,
"that you might be accused of
our uncle's murder?"
" My uncle's murder!" he exclaimed,
irniug pale and trembling. " What
roof is there to found such a charge
pon ?"
" Enough to hang you, I fear, should
ever be brought forward," was my
ply.
And determined to push him home,
id find what explanation he had to
ive, I went over all my late client had
>ld me.
The effect on him was singular. He
as evidentlv reassured by the state
lent.
" Of course yon are not at liberty to
so to my prejudice information thus
wtiood to you," he remarked.
"Myclient employed me to serve,
id not to injure his brother," I anrered.
"Hislast wish was that he
iglit bo freed from this black susicion."
" That wish shall bo fulfilled," he
lid. "I think I can yet find a clue
?the real culprit, and, in a few more
?V8, satisfy you of my innocence as |
ell as identity."
He took his ring and went away, I
romising to return as soon as he could
roduce his proofs.
Next day another stranger appeared.
,'e, too, introduced himself as the longissing
Charles Wilson, and the like?ss
between him and the man of whom
3 claimed to be the brother was strikig
in the extreme.
" I have not come about the fortune,"
3 said, " but to learn what I may of
10 last years of mv brother's life."
He wept when I related the dead
an's story as I had to the other?wept
irgled tears of joy and grief.
" Would that my poor brother were
ive," he cried, "that 1 might at last
and as clear in his sight as he this day
' Tf woo +??turn GiiQnipinn
Jrc aii luiur t ?i v naft iwuiu
om him that I fled on that terrible
ight, ami have ever since remained
mcealed.
" As lie told yon, I met him hurrying
it as I entered the door. Having ocision
to visit my uncle's room, I was
irror-stricken at the sight of his
irpse stretched upon the floor. Near
lay a bloody knife, which I recognized
i belonging to my brother. A dreadil
thought flashed upon me. I picked
p1; he knife, and was running from the
>om to conceal it, when the housekeep
met me. I knew she would believe
e guilty. In justifying myself I
ight implicate my brother. I fled
om the house and never returned, de(rmiued
to save my brother at the cost
reputation,. and, should need be, of
fe itself. If suspicion fell on either.it
lonld be on me.
The 6tory was simply and toucbiDgly
>ld. I had no doubt of its truth, anil
'quested the stranger to hold himself
i readiness till I required his presence,
hich I should in e short time do. 1
irtker cautioned him to keep his own j
iunsel< I
After the lapse of some days the first
cla mant returned, accompanied by an
ill-looking man of aged appearance.
" I Lave found out the real murder- D
er," he said; " but, unfortunately, heis J
beyond the reach of justice."
" His name ?"' I asked.
" Richard White," ho answered.
" What proof have you ?" ^
" This," pointing to his companion, v
" is the man with whom White pawned j
my uncle's watch shortly after the mur- (
der. The pawnbroker has kept it ever
since, and has it with him now." 8
" Yesh, here it isb," said the gentle- c
man referred to, producing the watch. 1
"Misther Fhite shpouted him mit me r
for foofzy dollar. I can shwear to dat.
Und my frent, Sharley Vilson?I can 8
shwear to him, too?know't him from a c
poy." t
I stepped out, and sent a messenger t
4lm nf Kor nloimnnf 1
la a few minutes be entered the a
office- At the sight of him the first- *
comer started to his feet and sprang to- t
ward the door. It was plain that he c
recognized the real Charles Wilson, and t
saw tkafc his own game was up.
A couple of officers intercepted his c
Sight. The pawnbroker was fain to ?
make his pence by confessing that the t
counterfeit Charles Wilson had placed 1
the watch in his hands, and instructed t
him what stoiy to tell. t
Both the watch and the ring were c
identified as the property of the mur- e
dered man, other circumstances coming i
to light, tqe ciiminnl was, in due time, 1
tried and executed, first making a full *
confession of his guilt.?Ledger. s
6
Adventures of a Burglar.
A man tried to burglarize the house r
of Mr. Smith, residing in the neighbor- *
hood of the railroad track, but was sue- t
cessfnlly foiled in the attempt. It f
seems that the fellow forced an entrance 1
through the back kitchen aoor by prying
oft' the hasp, about 11:30 o'clock, *
soon after the occupants of the house j
had retired. The burglar, after getting c
into the kitchen, commenced walking J
around the room. Mr. Smith, who fi
had not yet gone to sleep, heard the t
fellow, but kept quiet. In a few mo- c
ments more the burglar entered the 1
hall which leads directly to the sleep- I
ing apartment. About this time Smith 1
had gotten out of bed, and, arming *
himself with a bootjack and one of his
heavy boots, awaited the approach of
the other. It was as dark as tar, and
as soon as the man came within striking r
distance he let fly at him with his boot- .
jack, hitting him over the head. The
fellow beat' a hosty ratreat, but not fast I
enough to escape the heavy boot, which I
wus thrown after him. When he got 1
iuto the kitchen he didn't know which way
to tnru, as he had closed the door
when he camu in. Before he knew f
where he was he had fallen over the 1
stove, knocking half a dozen tea kettles t
and pots off with him. This created ^
such a terrible din that Smith thought
four or five burglars were in his kitch- 1
en, and was afraid to follow. Lucky I
for the other that he did, for he had ]
become so demoralized by the fall that r
he wasn't worth a cent for fighting. 1
Getting on his feet again, he 6truck f
for the door wildly, and this time came r
in contact with a rocking chair, and he i
fell head over heels into a tub of water. \
His splashing and floundering around c
in the tub of water terrified Smith more e
thun ever, and he began to think his i
house was possessed of devils. The f
man at last found the door, and jumped <
down the steps ; lie ran across the yard t
like lightning, and thfetimerushed into a j
small hen coop, which he knocked 1
over, and killed several of the small
hens. What happened to him after
this no one knows. Suffice it, he has
not shown himself around those parts
since.? Valltjo {Cat.) Independence.
The Old Woman of Shamokin.
Some few miles from Shamokin, Pa.
enjs the Episcopal Register, lives a
character that those manly people, the
" woman's rights women," should certainly
know, as she is decidedly the
champion. The singular being is some
seventy-two years of age, and is altogether
the most manly woman I ever
met with. A tenant-at-will, she has oc- j;
cupii d for many years the farm she
cultivates with her own hands and the
assistance of hired laborers. She owns
about forty-two head of cattle, some of
which I saw, and are really fine stock. c
She lives alone in her log cnbin, her t
only companions being two shepherd H
dogs and her chickens, many of the
lutter sleeping under the same roof with
her, she calling them her children, and *
training them up in the way they should fl
go, so us to cause the least inconveni- c
ence to her in their habit of life. She _
is utterly fearless, and with her dogs
and gun, which she can use with un- *
erring aim, Lize Schnler is a character c
that few would care to trifle with, t
Imagine, if you can, a woman of me- t
dium size, d.essed in men's clothes, n
with a soft hat variously indented upon t
her head, no coat, barefooted, and you
have this champion of " woman's i
rights" before you. Wrinkled though t
her face is by the storms and trials of c
many years, the strength and activity I
oi lliis man-woman 01 Bevt-uvj-i?u i?
Bomewliat wonderful. Volublo is bard- i
ly the term suitable for the expression f
of her powers of talk, and few men, c
however disposed for such perfection, I
may boast themselves superior to her on t
the 6core of profanity. Much and varied s
has been my travel, and strange sights t
and objects have I 6een and met with, *
but the Hermit of Shamokin, with her o
supernatural powers of tongue and limb, t
far surpasses anything of my previous fi
experience. c
Gen*. Bctler in New Orleans.?In i
the case in which William A. Button t
sought to recover from Gen. B. F. But- 1
ler the value of two drafts for $15,000, i
seized by Gen. Butler at New Orleans x
on the ground that the drafts were fc
property, contraband of war on aoconnt i
of an attempt to smuggle them through t
the Union lines, Judge Woodruff gave i
a decision for Gen Butler, holding that i
the General was justified in making the f
seizure, 1
Executed by Beheading.
A correspondent gives the following
ccount of an execution at Yeddo in
span:
The culprits were eight in number,
ine being a woman. Thej were all beleaded
with a sword. The operation
ras performed with wonderful dexterty
and coolness, and not one of them,
iven the woman, showed the slightest
ymptoms of fear. There was a space
if ground roped off; inside were three
loles dug in the ground, with a little
uound behind each, on which was
pread a mat for the criminal to kneel
in. On one side of the inclosuro were
wo Japanese officials, in obairs, to see
be thing properly conducted. I had n
>lace directly in front of the mounds, at
ibout six feet distance. The criminals
eere placed in a row, on one side of
he inclosure, blindfolded with pieces
f paper (they use paper for everything
here).
What struck me most was the horrid
oolness of the executioner's assistant,
i good-looking lad of about 18; he went
ip to each poor wretch in his turn,gave
iim a tap on the shoulder, led him up
o the mound, and made him kneel on
he m*t; he llien stripped His stiomlers,
made him stretch oat his neck,
i&id " That will do," and ima flash the
nan's head was in the hole in front of
lim, and his bleeding neck was, as it
vere, staring me in the face. The nslistunt,
still with the same pleasant
mile, picked the head up, threw some
vater over the face to wash off the mud
ind blood, and presented ittothe Japaiese
officials, who nodded and signed
0 go on with the next The assistant
hen gave the corpse a blow between
he shoulders to expel the blood, and
Inally threw the carcass aside like a
og of wood. N
He repeated the same pleasant programme
with the next. I never thought
1 man's head conld come off so easily;
t was like chopping cabbages, only aciompanied
with a peculiar and most
torrid sound?that of cutting meat, in
act. There was a dense crowd of Japinese
present, including many women,
ind even children; these people never
.'eased to eat, smoke, and chatter the
vhole time, making remarks on the
>erformance, and even occasionally
anghing, just as if they were at a
heatre.
A Strange Discovery.
The arrest of a number of poor coal>ickers
in Kansas City, recently, has
esulted in the discovery of a once very
jopnlar actress, who long ago drove the
day-going public of London wild over
ler beauty and power of delineation,
l rni I road watchman caught a bright
yed little girl of thirteen years filling
ler basket with coals from the cars of
he Missonri Pacific Itailroad. When
he child was brought before the auhorities,
Mrs. Caroline Whittlesey,
nore familiarly known as "Brighton
Pearl," of the Drnry Lane Theatre, ap>eared
in her behalf, and her calm and
ady-like manner, and pale, careworn
ace, were all the eloquence required to
elease the little girl from the watchnan's
grasp. This man, to test the
Foman's words as to her poverty and
lestitution, visited her rude, unplaster:d
hovel in the bottoms near the raiload
track. A clean but humble bed, a
ew chairs, a table, a number of relics
>f the stage, such as play-bills, permits,
&c., uud a sewing machine, comjrised
all her earthly possessions. Mrs.
iVhittlesey, it appears, went to Kansas
Uity about five years ago, and has lived
here since the death of her hnsband
>y her own exertions as a seamstress.
Yhen she left the stage Bhe did so exacting
to become the wife of Lord
Denbigh, with whom she went, as his
rife, to Geneva and thence to Florence,
rhere they lived in retirement several
nonths. On his death her claims as
lis wife were set aside, and having
leither money nor frieadB she came to
his country to seek a livelihood. Since
he death of her husband, whem she
narried in Kansas, she had gradually
lecome reduced in circumstances, and
low found herself compelled to send
ler child to gather coals to assist in
king out the scanty support won by her
leedle.
The Hoosac Tunnel.
The work of the Hoosac Tunnel was
ommenccd as far back as 1850. After
hat it was abandoned and recommenced
ome three or four times within a period
if twenty years until in December,
869, a contract for completing it within
ive years was undertaken by the present
ontractors. Since then tho work has
;one forward without interruption. The
ime required to complete the work, inliuling
the laying of the permanent
rack, will be about seven months from
lie 1st of December next, and the tunlei
will probably be open for traffic by
he 4th Of July next.
The total length of the Hooaac tunnel
s four miles and three-quarters'. It is
wenty-four feet wide, that being suffiient
for a double liue of rails, and its
leight is twenty-six feet. Compared
rith the Mont Cenis Tunnel, after which
t takes rank in point of length (the
crmer is about seven miles loDg), the
iondttions attending the work of the
loosac made it a much more difficult
tndertaking. The exigencies of the
ituation required that the work should
>e carried out by means of shafts, of
rhich there are two?the west shaft,'
,bout half a mile from the western peral,
and 318 feet deep, and the central
nail, wmcu is suna iu wie lowest jmrt
>f the mountain between the two ends,
o the depth of 1,030 feet. The pumpng
of the latter alone, to allow of the
unnel being driven east and west, in'olved
an expenditure of $300,000. It
s estimated that the Hoosao tunnel,
Then completed, will have cost the
state of Massachusetts some$12.000,000,
nclnding interest and sums vested in
msucoessfnl attempts to carry on the
vork under State management. By
shorn the tunnel is to be worked is still
in open question, to be settled by the
Legislature of the State.
.A Whole Day to Do Nothing.
" If I only couli have a whole day to
do nothing?bo work, and no lessons,
only play all day?I should be happy,"
said little Bessie.
"To-day shall be yours," said her
mother. " You may play as much as
you please ; and I will not give you any
work, no matter how much you may
want it"
Bessie laughed at the idea of wishing
for work, and ran out to play. She was
swinging on the gate when the children
passed to school; and they euvied her
for having no lessons. When they were
gone, she climbed up into the cherry
tree, and picked a lapful for pies; but
when she carried them in, her- mother
said,?
" That is work, Bessie. Don't yon
remember you cried yesterday because
I wished you to pick cherries for the
pudding ? You may take them away.
No work to-day, you know." And the
little girl went awav rather out of humor.
She get her doll, and played with
it awhile, but was soon tired. She
tried all her toys; but they didu't seem
to please her any better. She came
back and watched her mother, who was
shelling peas.
iUBJ' 11 t ? licip JUU, luvtuv*
asked.
" No, Bessie ; this isn't play."
Bessie went into the garden again,
an^ leaned over the fence, watching the
dncks and geese in the pond. Soon she
heard her mother setting the table for
dinner. Bessie was qnite cheerful
during the meal; but when it was over
and her father away, she said wearily,?
"Mother, yor. don't know how tired I
am of doing nothing. If you would
only let me wind your cotton, or put
your work-box in order, or even sew at
that tiresome patchwork, I would be so
glad 1"
"I can't, little daughter, because I
said I would not give you. any work today.
Bnt you may find some for yourself,
if you can."
So Bessie hunted up a pile of old
stockings, and began to mend them;
for she could darn very neatly.
Her face grew brighter; and she
presently said,?
" Mother, why do people get tired of
play ?"
" Because God did not mean us to be
idle. His command iB, ' Six dnvs shalt
thou labor.' He has given all of us
work to do, and has made us so that
unless we do just the very work that he
gives us we can't be happy." He has
very hard work who has nothing to do.
A Turkish Princess.
M.Betham Edwards visited a Turkish
princess,whom sho describes as follows:
" Sho was tall and slender and very
haudsome, with a pearly skin, delicately
cut featnres, and black hair and eyes.
Her dress was simply perfect, ample,
Sowing, easy, of 6oft, noiseless, lus1
-.-It- il.n Mwnnioa lma nf wiiipll it
irUUH BXJJlj bUO piouiao uuv v? ?
would be impossible to describe; it
was something between an asphodelblossom
und the palest pink coral, and
yet neither the one nor the other ap
Eronched it at all nearly. Around her
ead wan wound a little turbun of delicately
colored gauze, fastened over the
foreherd with a jewel. Now, I am sorrj
to confess that this graceful and imposing
creature was such an inveterate
smoker that it seemed the sole business
of two or threo of her slave-girls t<
supply her wants. Dnring the two
hours that we were honored with her
presence one of these automaton-like
figures would come in about every seven
or eight minutes, unsnmmoned, and
hand each of the ladies a cigarette.
Anything more like machinery could
not be conceived. There was no salutation
on the part of the servant, no
acknowledgment on the part of the
mistress. The cigarettes came and
went, and thai was all."
Suicide of Mne Chinese Girls.
A recent China newspaper publishes
the following account of an incident
which is reported to have taken pluct
ntWhampoa: "Nine young girls, living
with different families in the village,
seem to have entertained an aver
sion to married life. (Seeing the misen
and toil to which the members of th*
families with whom they lived were sub
jected, and above all the slave-like obedience
of wives to the wills of their husbands,
the damsels in question came to
the resolution of putting an end to their
earthlv careers, which is here carried
intoeffect by a different modus operandi
to that of opium-poisoning in vogue in
Hong KoDg. Tbo nine duinsels met b>
appointment on the banks of the river,
at the entrance of one of the creeks ii
the vicinity of ' Brown's Folly,' attired
in heavy winter garments, which thej
had sewn all together in order to prevent
a separation. While thus united
in body, heart, and mind, the damsels
plnnged into the deep. As this happened
close to the time of the festival
of the seven female genii, who descended
from heaven and are culled the 'seven
sisters,' all sorts of superstitious conclusions
are drawn from it."
Wisdom for the Crisis, by Bill Arp.
Munny to be heltby must be skattered
around so that everybody can git sum.
When it's most all piled up in a feu
pyramids the least jostle will tumble ii
to the ground. If I was King I'd fix n
remedy for bloated fortunes mity quick.
I'd tax a man nuthin on an iucum of 5
thousan dollars and under. I'd tax 10
per ct. on all between 5 and lOthouRan;
twenty per ct. on all between 10 and 20
thousan, and so on, doublin up to 50
thousan. Above that I'd take it all,
every dollar. I tell yon that will get
em. That will Keep aown inese wan
street riogs. It will let a man have
enuff for all decent and respectable
purposes, and after that he must do bitaheer
for them who awet and toil and
havent been as smart or ng mean or a*
lucky as himself. It will put a limit
upon a man's avarice and keep munnj
in better employment than paying
$50,000 for a hnrse or 100 tbousan for a
diamond pin.
Real Backwoods Humor.
Ancedote* ot (lit "Htwbncki<"
Edward Egglestou iu a sketch of
backwoods humor gives us the follow- {
ing: i
I have been not a little interested in t
studying the humor of the " Hoosier" (
?that is, the rough back-country class j
who are laughed at by all the rest. Tou |
laugh at the hawbuck, but the hawbuck j
bas somebody in his imagination green- f
er and lower than he is, and it gratifies {
bis vanity to tell stories of blunders ,
which he would have scorned to moke. {
I have found, in conversation with the {
rudest people, that they always told me ^
jokes of ruder people. There is no fun '
in these stories, or not much to culti- i
vated people, but they are at least curi- <
? lllnrlralinn ilia otmrnctjir of 1
U Ul DO llJuouamug ???W .....
these people who tell them and laugh 1
at them by the wide open fire-places of 1
their log cabins. Will yon hear some <
of them: 1
There were once two young men who '
had never been away from home, who 1
went to town on an errand of some sort. I
They conspired together and bought 1
| two and a half cents' worth of ginger- <
bread. As they walked along the streets i
.stuffing it into their mouths, ono of >
them nudged the other and said: I
" Laws, Sam! if marm knowed we wuz 1
a takin' seen a splurge would'n she gin J
us goss ?" There's not much humor in 1
this truly, as I tell it; but told bv a I
boy, who, poor as he is, never takes '
change below a " fip"?five cents?and 1
who laughs all over when he tells it, I |
have found it quite amusing.
Here is one like unto it: Two young '
men from "iDjeanny,"strolling through '
Cincinnati, come to the sign "City 1
Hotel." One of them spells it thus: '
"C-i-t, Kit, y, Kitty, H-n-t, Hot, Kitty <
Hot, e-1, Kitty Hottel. Thunder, Bill! ]
that air mus' be the same Kitty Hottel '
is used to keep tavern in Injinop'Jis. '
This story never fails to bring a laugh. I
Sometimes the hero of the story is an 1
Irishman, sometimes a negro. Gencr- 1
illy, the Irishman figures as snpreme 1
fool, while the negro often shows a :
good deal of wit. " More rain more 1
rest," cried a negro one day as it began
to rain. " I said more rain, more chuck- '
in' corn in debarn, sah." Then this of <
an Irishman: He had just arrived in 1
this country, and was crossing a stream 1
on a foot-log. Seeing a bear come the '
other way he took him to be a negro, i
and bade him good morning. The bear '
raised up, and, after the manner of 1
bears, clasped the Irishman to his 1
bosom. The Irishman, supposing this <
to be a sign of affection, hugs the bear '
in turn. But finding that the " nager " >
squeezed unconscionably hard, he affec- >
cionately remonstrated with him. When 1
it got to be u matter of life and death, 1
he pulled out his knife and said: "An' (
if yo don't let go I'll hev to kill yon1
which he proceeded to do. The bcai 1
rolled into the water, and the Irishman, 1
meeting a man soon after, informed <
him thut he had killed a "nager," upon
which they returned and found the car- j
uass of the bear.
Iu some of the stories the negro opp-*ars
as the "inferior being." In
vVestern parlance a watch is called a 1
tunip. It is a joke that has grown intt>
slang. One of the stories which I heard
on City Creek was this: A white man
met a negro with a watch chain hanging
out, and asked: " What time is it by
four turnip?" "Laws, massa," answered
the ingenious darkey, "how did
vou know 'twi s a turnip?" Behold
Bryan O'Lynn with a black face.
Some of the exaggerations of the
Western people show the extravagance
to which their humor tends. A man
vlio is a fool is said not to have " the
sense tho law allows." The law used to
exempt 8150 from execution. A man
>vbe had less than this was in a state of
xtreme bankruptcy. A man who
threatens an enemy always proposes to
"lick him till his hide won't hold
shucks." A bog which will not hold
:or? husks is, of course, a sorry affair.
V. stingy man is "as tight as the bark on
i beech tree." " He squeezes a quarter
'ill the eagle hollers." When n man
shoots another, he" siliviates him."
Vnd when a man is in great danger,
hry say : "Saltpetre won't save him."
[ do not know what this means, unless
it is an nllusion to the preservation of
neat by saltpetre. I huve often heard
i Westerner threaten another man that
ne would " tan his hide for him," and I
have heard an angry woman call out to
her hopeful boy "I'll warm your jacket
it)
tor you, my Bon :
Paris Firemen.
The fire brigade in Paris, including
>ne Colonel and forty-nine officers,
'lumbers 1,500 men, distributed in eleven
barracks, and sixty postca dr. garde.
The total annual expenses for the maintenance
of this force and its accessories
s one and a half million francs, defrayed
by the mnr.ieipaljty. The privates
and non-commissioned officers'
nay varies per class from 550 francs to
1,200 francs per annum ; the children
>f the regiment receive eleven sous per
lay, with bread, and an increase of one
ou daily every year, commencing from
heir eighth year. This early service
renders tho firemen of Pans veritable
Leotards, as they have to practice gymlastic
exercises daily, and the value ef
uch training is evident to the visitor
vho has seen the small, wiry, indiarubber-muscled
firemen of Paris at
vork. It is said that an American gunn.i'11
sail tvlipppver the croand is
noist; the firemen in question climb
anything upright, like cats of monkeys.
Prrrrxo in Small-Pox.?Dr. I. H.
Bird uses an ointment made of charcoal
ind lard to prevent pitting in small-pox.
This is applied freely over the surface
of the face, neck, aud hands, as soon
.is the disease is distinguished, and continued
until symptoms of suppurative
fever have cease^. The application allays
the itching, seems to shorten the
luration of the complaint, and leaves
the patient without a blemish; the
arqption protected'by the ointment not
even showing signs of pustulatien. The
charcoal prevents the action of light,
and lard that of air.
A Terrible Plague.
Ctqilmtni Bay Depopulated by an Unknown
D lee ate.
Invaloke Inlet, or Esquimaux Bay, on
he Atlantic coast of Labrador, has been
itteily depopulated by a scourge, in
nany of its phases similar to Asiatic
sholera. More Esquimaux inhabit this
iay than any part of the peninsula,
here haying been previous to the viaiation
about 450 of them at Invaloke
ind vicinity. At this bay there is a
lizely dwelling erected by the Moravian
nissionaries who landed on that frozen
ind barren shore in 1852. They became
;he doctors, physical and spiritual, of
he lazy people they had come to teach,
rhe missionary house was freely turned
nto a hospital, and the fathers attend*
id to the sufferings of those mjsteriousy
stricken in their midst. Their dueling
soon became a house of-death, and
;welve of them, who had field almost
:easeless vigil over the dying,
ell, even 10 meir iuat muu, m u?riess,
victims of the plague. On the
L5th of October a dense fog overspread
:he coast of Labrador. Thongh intense
frost had been experienced on the 13th
ind 14th ultimo, this fog brought with
t an unaccountable warmth and dampness.
There was no kain, yet the rigging
of the brigantine Ann (the vessel
which brought the intelligence to St.
P'^rel was dripping, and the decks
were slippery. It was impossible to see
the bowsprit from the poop, and the
huts and people on shore were lost to
light in the impenetrable fog. On the
morning of the 16th ultimo, the morning
which succeeded that phenomenon,
more than sixty men, women, and children,
principally Esquimaux, were prostrated
with a disease, the nature of
which the most skillful of the missionmes
could not define. A vomiting of yellowish
fluid, accompanied by acute pains
in the stomach and contraction of the
muscles, were the first symptoms. The
patient was suddenly prostrated, and
the groaning and writhing of many persons
struck down by the disease in the
same part of the harbor were heartrending,
principally so in view of the mystcriousne8s
of their disorder.
On the afternoon of the 18th of October
the Ann put into Invaloke Inlet
again. To use the exact words written
by one on board that vessel, " the aspect
of that plague-stricken settlement
will never grow less terrible in the
memories of all thos? who beheld it and
still live." Women were fleeing with
their children and little bundles containing
provisions and clothes. In
every hat there were several dead, and
others dying. Home yelled for help*
and others moaned piteoasly, unable to
move a limb. The captain sent in a
cask of brandy to the house of the missionaries,
and, in grateful recognition
of the offering, they raised a flag on the
pole in front of their house. Later
they sent word to the captain not to
come ashore, or permit any of his men,
as already many of their people had
fallen victims to the plagae. The messenger
stated that a schooner from the
United States lay inside the harbor, and
the captain, chief mate, and nearly all
her crew had been prostrated by the
disease.
Before night on the 18th ult. tho
news reached the Aun that Bix of the
missionaries lay dead ; that on the instant
after death all the corpses of those
carried off became of a bluish-black
hue, and that decomposition had set in.
The captain of the American vessel
(the Henry F. BoltoD, of Gloucester,
Mass.) and four of his crew died at
night. The next morning the captain
of the Ann ordered a signal to be raised
for a messenger to boaid them. There
was no one to answer the signal. The
men of the Ann who volunteered to go
on shore were given plenty of ram. At
the missionaries' house tdey louna an
aged Esquimaux alone and sobbing.
He spoke very little English, but the
sailors could understand that the last
of the fathers had died, that all his people
had been cut off. by the awful
plagne, only the few who fled escaping.
The stench in every direction was putrid
and sickening. '
The sailors with desperate recklessness
entered several of the huts in
which there was not a living person
left to tell the tale 1 In one instance
they found the corpse of a white man
in a kneeling attitude with the hands
and head resting on a bed, and a paper
off pepper beside him an the floor.
Finding his end near, he must have
fallen on his knees to prepare for the
other world. The corpso of women
were found stretched in all parts of the
huts, and the feet and arms of dead
men and women in many cases protruded
ont the open doors of the lints. A
peculiar feature of this lamentable
scene was the forlorn appearance of
scores of trained Esquimaux dogs who
lounged about in utter bewilderment.
Many of these auimals cluug to the
doors of their dead friends, and hunger
sometimes evoked a plaintive whine
from the masterless brutes. The opfinivl
1x7 overcame the
picnoitc DVVUVM MM... ,
men and they were compelled to quit
the shore. Captain Richardson, of the
Ann, conld do no more, and the vessel
set sail from the dismal bay on the
morning of the 19t,h ultimo. '
On the 21st ol October, John Casey,
one of the men who had volunteered to'
go ashore at Invaloke, died after only a
few hours' sickness. His body was
launched overboard and the forecastle
was dashed with spirits, the nnlv disinfectaut
on board. On the 25th the
lookout^ighted the coast of Miqnelon.
Before landing, Captain Richardson
and the second mate were taken ill.
The official doctor of the harbor of
Miqnelon (French) came on board and
pronounced the captain's malady a
virulent fever. Later the captain was
attacked by a severe vomiting and
cramps. The doctor then pronounced
it Asiatic cholera. Between 9 and halfpast
9 on the night of the 25th nit., the
captain and mate of the brigantine Ann
were dead, ahd the physician, Dr.
Bouvier, was oonfounded. He bade
the Bnrvivors to leave the ship itnme- '
diately, and had her thoroughly fnmi
gated. Up to cue mummy ut mn ?u*u _ ,. .
nit., no other oases had developed. On
that date the mate and crew ot the Ann
sailed for bydney, Gape Breton, on
board the British brig Taurus.