The Camden journal. [volume] (Camden, S.C.) 1866-1891, August 14, 1890, Image 1
VOL. XLIX. CAMDEN, S. C., THURSDAY, AUGUST 14, 1890. NO. 7.
IN THE NIC.HT WATCHES.
Sleep visits not my eyelids; yet I rest
In a content more deep than nny sleep;
Nay, rapt in joy my vigil here I keep.
With trembling hands clasped to my eager
breast.
For one I love, after long hours of pain,
Sleeps near mo now. Think you that 1
could sleep,
Though needless now the vigil that I keep,
With the dread lifted from my heart and
brain?
Think you that I would s'eep??would be
beguiled.
Cheated, of this ray joy? Nay, let mo fast
From sleep through long, glad hours, to
bear at last
The low, soft breathing of my ailing child.
?A lice Wellington Rollins, in the Century.
A MATCH PREVENTED.
BY S. A. WEISS.
A group of five persons was collected
on the broad, viue-shaded porch of the
old Vaden mansion.
T"erc was Josie, the acknowledged
mistress of the house, plump and laughing
eyed, though with a dignity befitting
her position; and her brother
Tom, lounging on the top step in cool
linen home neglige; and their aunt, Mrs.
Bascomb, from the city, fanning herself
in a cane rocker, while her pretty daughter
Cora wound a skein of silk, held
for her by a very nice-looking young
inau.
This was Mr. Mayhcw, a great-nephew
of Mrs. Bascomb's late husband?in
which relation lay his misfortune, siuce
that lady, being on princip e strenuously
opposed to the intermarriage of
"cousins," had, on that ground alone,
for a whole year objected to his union
with her daughter.
She wes a little worried now at his
presence in Covington, though, as that
village was in summer overrun with
visitors fond of scenery and trout fishing,
there was no reason why Mr. Mayhew
should not have come with the rest for
his August vacation.
They all had been talking and laughing
over the private theatricals iu which,
last winter, when Josie was on a visit to
her aunt, she and Mr. Mayhew had signally
distinguished themselves; but now
a sudden silence fell upon the party, and
311". Mayhew was surprised to observe a
shadow" bn the faces of all?even of Tom,
on whose .freckled countenance nature
scorned te havo stamped a perennial
grin. . * #
Glancing around, he could discern no
cause for this sudden change, unless it
might be the appearance on the lawn of
a mild-looking old gentleman and a slim
and vivacious lady of perhaps thirty.
Mr. Mayhew ventured to inquire of
Tom who they were.
"One is Uncle Joseph," replied that
young man, with characteristic frankness,
"and the other?the lady?is the Widow
Chamberlain, our future aunt-in-law.
They're nn engaged young couple."
All three ladies glanced reproachfully
at him, but only .Tosie spoke:
4'I don't see, Tom, how you can speak
so lightly of what is really so distressing
to us all. One would imagine that you
bad no feeling for poor, dear Uncle
Joseph."
"Why?" said Maybew, puzzled. "I
should think Mr. Yaden was to be congratulated.
Josie, who. in the conviction that
her aunt would have to 44givc in" some
time as regarded Mr. Mayhew, already
looked upon him as ouc of the family,
spoke out, unreservedly:
4,If she cared for him, it would be an
altogether different thing. Hut it is his
money that she wants, as everybody but
himself can see."
"Docs 4ic reside in Covington?"
"She resides wherever she finds it most
convenient?with her relatives, or at
boarding houses. Naturally she wishes
a home of her own, and it seems that this
vlace of uncle's iust suits her taste."
1 *
"She was here at the hotel last summer,"
Tom drawled, "fishing for Herring."
"Herring? Trout you mean."
"I mean Captain Haul Herring, the
richest bachelor in Covington. But he
wasn't as fresh n fhh as she thought
liirn, and wouldn't bite, so this summer
she came back to angle for Uncle Joseph.
She's got him on "the grass
now."
"Tom!" said .Tosic, severely.
""What could my poor, dear, innocentminded
brother be expected to do against
the wiles nna cunningof such a woman?"
said Mrs. Bnscomb, deprccatingly. "Of
course it. isn't his money that wo care
for, since we are all independent of any
disposition that he may sec lit to make
of it.; but it is dreadful to think of his
marrying this heartless woman, and
being made miserable for the rest of his
life."
"And our home has been such a happy
one, saiu wosic, wuu tears in ncr eyes.
"She will have her own way and alter
everything to suit herself, and it will
> hardly l>c a home to him any more."
' Couldn't you get him to break the
engagement?" Mnyhew inquired, sympathetically.
"We have warned him of her mercenary
views," Mrs. Bascomb replied, "but
it is of no use. 1 can see that he is not
happy, and that he really secretly regrets
having been led by his sympathy for her
Elected loneliness and interest in himself,
to offer her a home and his hand; but he
considers himself bound in honor by his
engagement."
"And if he broke it," Tom put in, i
"she would sue for breach of promise.
It would tqjee a pile of ten or twenty
thousand one-dollnr notes to plaster and
heal her lacerated heart."
"Tee only chance for him," said Josie,
"is for some richer suitor to present himself.
In that ca?c she would make nothing
of throwing over uncle."
"It isn't likely that such a chance will
offer," said Mrs. Bascomb.
And then, after a moment's silence,
she added, with much feeling:
"I don't see that anything whatever
can be done. And yet I would give half
of all I possess, or do anything in the
I
world for the person who would break i
off this match!" 1
Cora, having finished winding her
silk, had stepped into the house to put
it away, ller lover took a scat near Mrs. i
Bascomb.
"If I break of! your brothet's match,"
he said, "may I rely upon the promise
you have just made?"
"Certainly," she answered, "though *
I don t expect that you will ever be ajflc i
to claim it." <
"I call upon you. Miss Josic and Tom,
to be witnesses to the bargain." 1
"Why, how do you propose to proceedl"
inquired .Josie. 1
"I played the rich cieolc lover to you I
last wiuter. Why should I not act it as i
well now to?to any lady who cau her- i
self play a part?" i
Josie clasped her hands in delight, and
Tom's classic countenance was illumined '
with a smile which displayed the whole
of an irreproachable set of teeth. ;
"Oh, if you would! And we will all
Violn mn< And how fortunate that no- 11
M~*r j? ?
body here knows you! And oh, what i
a blessing it will be to everybody! and ]
what fun!" Josic excitedly exclaimed. i
"But remember, young people, there :
must be no fibbing."
"Certainly not, Auut Maria! The
plain, unvarished truth is all that we
shall need." 1
"Hist!" said Tom, tragically. "She
comes."
Obeying a signal from .Tosie, Mayliew
disappeared into the house.
The widow came up the steps, all
smiles, bangs and fluttering ribbons.
"I have left Mr. Vaden at the gate i
talking to Doctor James," she simpeied.
"We have been criticising the appearance i
of the house, and I suggested that this
old-fashioned porch and the gabled roof .
be removed, and a Grecian portico and ;
mansard substituted. Don't you agree
that it would be a great improvement?" i
Mrs. Bascomb flushed, and an angry i
reply was on her lips, but she checked
herself.
"I think it would," said Ton gravely. 1
"Especially if there's a Gothic bow-window,
and a tower or Chinese pagoda or
An r?r\r\f tn nflFnrrl n. hfittnr
dVUlCVUlUg UU lUV/ IWV? vw -v.- ?
view. Won't it, Joe?" I
"It will make little difference tome," '
replied his sister, "as I don't expect to
live here always." <
"Indeed?" said the widow, with interest,
delighted at the idea of getting rid
of Mr. Vaden's favorite niece. "May I 1
presume that there is another pcrsou con- i
cerned, Miss Josephine?"
"I?really I haven't quite made up my .
mind," she replied, looking down and
trying to blush.
"You'll have to, pretty soon," blurted
out Tom. "What is he here for, I'd like ;
to know, if it isn't to persuade somebody .
to say yes?" j
Mr?. Bascomb caught his side-glance j
and winced a little, while the widow inquired
:
"What! is lie in Covington?"'
"Came to-dnv," said Tom, chewing a '
straw. "When Josic was at Aunt
Maria's last winter, he was a coustant
visitor, and everybody could see how
things stood. I knew that lie would
turn up here some time."
"For shame, Tom!" said Josie, gigling.
''Mr. Mayhew's a very nice gentleman,
but it isn't at all certain that I
shall ever marry him. People might say
I was marrying for money, and that
would make me feel real mean."
The widow glanced sharply at her, but
she did not raise hercyes from the flowers.
"So this beau of your sister's is rich?"
she inqurcd.
"I should think so?rather! I heard
Judge Fellows, who introduced lnui to i
Aunt Maria, telling her about him, and !
the judge is a man whose word is to be !
relied on. lie said thcgeitlcmau had ,
just come in possesion of an immense i
fortune?a cotton plantation on the Mis-1
sissippi worth a million of dollars, and i
valuable real estate in Spain, besides
owning an interest in the great gold i
mines of?what was the name, Aunt i
Maria?"
"Bubbleazoo!" replied Mrs. Bascomb, :
coughing behind her fan.
It was with difficulty that she and Jo- 1
sic could repress a smile, for Tom was
relating what had actually occurred in i
the play of "The Creole Lover."
"Uncle Joseph," resumed Tom, 1
"thinks himself very well oil; hut what <
Is his property compared with Mr. May- i
hcw's? And you ought to see his dia- *
mond solitaire ring and studs! Why, if 1
he were presented at court in them, 1
they'd make Queen Victoria stare."
"Oh, nonsense, Tom!" said Josic.
"You exaggerate everything. Mr. Mavhew
never makes a vulgar display of his
diamonds, aud to sec what a polite, un- i
assuming young man he is, no one would
imagine him to be so rich." '
Next evening Mrs. Chamberlain was 1
introduced to Mr. Mavhcw, who ap- :
pcarcd in the diamond ring aud studs
mentioned by Tom.
He was evidently impressed with the
lively and coquettish widow, and she
was very gracious, their acquaiutaccc
thenceforth progressed rupidly.
Josie began to look a little sullen, and
when Mrs. Chamberlain paid her usual
daily visits to the house, sho found herself,
as she thought, not very cordially
received by the girls.
She artfully teased Josie about "her
beau," and inquired when the wedding
was to be, while exerting herself to the
utmost to take advantage of Mr. Mayhew's
evident admiratiou for herself.
She had the advantage of being at the
same hotel with him,and there were tctca-tetcs
and saunterings and drives, in
which she sometimes encountered Mr.
Vaden's family, and even the old gentleman
himself.
At first she appeared slightly embarrassed,
but after awhile assumed an air
of indifference nnd cool confidence.
Tor a whole week she did not come
near the Yaden house, nnd when at
length she did appear, she and Josic had
some words together.
"As an engaged woman," Josic said,
"it does strike ine that you are a good
deal with Mr. Mayhew."
"Engaged people," the widow answered,
flushing, "and also people who
were never quite engaged, sometimes
change their minds. Perhaps I have
changed mine; and it may he that your
friend, Mr. Mayhew, has chauged his."
"What do you mean?" said Josic, excitedly.
"I mean that I was unfortunately mistaken
in supposing that I loved your
uncle, whom I yet sincerely esteem; and
perhaps Mr. Mcyhew has made a similar
discovery in regard to himself. He respects
you very much; but, since it has
couie to this between us, I may as well,
in self-defense, mention that Mr. Mayhew
has informed me that he never
seriously asked you to marry him, neither
has any intention of doing so. He says
that what passed between you was an
amusement merely, anil his heart is another's!"?this
with a conscious simper
of triumph.
"He did? Oh, the unprincipled
rrrnffOi pried .Tosie.
The widow rose, as if anxious to escape
i scene.
"I came this evening to bid you goodbye,
and to request that you will kindly
deliver this note to your uncle. I find
myself compelled to leave to-morrow
early; and an interview with Mr. Vaden
is scarcely necessary, and would be painful
to both."
She sailed away, and the family, who
from the next room had heard it all, saw
her joined at the corner of the street by
faithless Mayhew.
Uncle Joseph, whet he read the note,
heaved a long-drawn and pondeioussigh,
as though an immense load were thereby
taken off his mind. He had not in two
months appeared so cheerful as on this
eve ring.
Next day Mr. Mayhew came, bright
and eager.
"Did you really propose to her?" was
Josie's inquiry, as she rushed to meet him
in the hall. ^
"XT- COmnloO
*"nu? 1 lU'JiCl > CApi UOOV/U uij UV1 U|/tw
against proposing to an engaged woman,
(ind she iast evening assured me that she
was bound by no engagement to Mr. !
Vnden. And that being the case, my j
dear Mrs. Bascomb, may I claim my reward?"
"I suppose I shall have to keep my
word. You have certainly done us a
great service," she replied, with tears in
her eyes.
"Then you say yes?" said Josie, eagerly.
"Yes."
He stretched out his hanc! to blushing
Corn, and Tom, spreading both hands
above their heads, said, fervently:
"Bless you, my children!"?Saturday
Ni-ght.
Making Oil of Sassafras.
An interesting description is given by
Mr. T. C. Harris, of North Carolina, in
Popular Science Neics, of the process used
in the manufacture of the oil of sassafras
and oil of pennyroyal in the old North
State. The apparatus U3ed in this work
is so exceedingly rude and primitive as
to appear ridiculous to most observers.
The still is constructed by digging a
short trench in the ground, ending in a
low flue or chimney, and over this trench
is placed a closed wooden box, having a
sheet-iron bottom and an auger hole on
top, through which water is poured. An
ordinary barrel stands endwise on top
of the steambox, and has several holes
bored through its bottom and also
through the top of the steambox, allow.
i c 1? *1 1. *i.?
ing sicam to pass j reeiy up uuuu^u mu
barrel. A lute of clay is used to close
the joint between the lower end of the
barrel and the steambox, as well as the
cover of the bnrrel. Instead of a
"worm," a tin pipe immersed in a
trough of cold water is used, and a
steam connection with the barrel is
generally made by an clbowiranch of
wood, bored out with an aiSPir. The
s tssafras tree grows abundantly in North
Carolina, especially on wornout lands,
where it is usually found in dense thickets
of small shrub3. The root is dug and
washed free of dirt, and nfter being
chopped short and bruised with a hatchet,
is ready for the "still." This work
is done by boys employed by the manufacturer,
who pays a stated price per
hundred pounds for the root ready for
use.
When the barrel is filled with the
roots and the cover made tight with clay
the process of distillation goes on rapidly.
The steam passes through the mass
of bruised roots, and is condensed by the
tin tube into a mixture of distilled water
and oil, and runs into a glass vessel set
to receive it. Being of different densities,
the oil and water rapidly settle into
two strata, and at once eun be decaDtcd
from the other.
It is said that the operator of such a
"still" can pay all running expenses aud
make a clear profit of 63 per day. When
wc consider that the cost of establishing
such a "fnctory" is less than $10 for the
tfuiiru [IKIUI, ailU UV ^LLCUJil/CU VUUOUtlWU
is necessary on the part of the operator,
the profit of the work is not to be i
despised.
The same outfit is used in the production
of oil of pennyroyal, which grows
abundantly in the woods in many counties.
Glad She Jiltecl the Judge.
The famous Police Judge Duffy, of New
York city, is generally stern and dignified,
but he was completely up8ct the
other day by a remarkable occurrence.
It seems that a prisoner in his court offered
as bail Mrs. Sarah A. Hall, wife of
the music publisher. "Can anyone present
identify you?" asked the Judge. "I
think you can do that," replied Mrs.
Hall, smiling sweetly. Judge Duffy demanded
an explanation, whereupon
Mrs. Hall told him that when he taught
school t wenty years ago she was a teacher
iu the same institution, and that he
had then asked her to marry him.
TKnrn woe ci ertrrrr 1*? onrl flin
"? tuu"i """ ",vJudge,
making the best of it, said:
"And I suppose you arc glad that you refuted
me'" "Very glad, sir," was the
startling reply. Judge Duffy hastily accepted
the bond and darted out o/ the
court-room without his hat, followed by
one of the officers, who carried it to
him. The veteran Police Judge wu?
never so badly rattled in all his life, and
ali New York is laughing at his dis
coiuliturc.?Atlanta. Constitution.
MEXICO.
SCENES OF INTEREST AMONG
OUlt NEIGHBORS.
Idfc in tho Capital?Moving nil Aztec
Biol?Famous Popocatapeti
With lis. Almost Inaccessible
Peak ol" Suotv.
Morning in Mexico is a season cf delight.
The weather is usually so pleasant
and unchangeable that our North
American salutation "it's a fine day," is
unknown to the Mexican. If such a remark
is made he seems surprised and will
answer, "one day is like another here,
and all days are fine." Even in the rainy
season I was told the showers fall at night
and the days ate clear and unclouded.
But the morning has the most enchanting
atmosphere; there is a buoyant freshness
in the air, the skies are blue, the sunshine
delicious, as tempering the chill
which is inseparable from night and
shade, in the high altitudes of the capital.
Being within the tropics the suu rises
and sets at nearly the same hours every;
day in the year. After sunset it soon becomes
dark. The people go to bed early.
The pulque shops are closed early by law,'
and about the only loitering places are
the restaurants. There is a prejudice^
against the nigh i air, and few persons are
in the streets after dark, though the city
is-well lighted by electricity.
The work ot street sweeping, which
our people are accustomed to do at night,
the Mexicans postpone until the fresh
and early hours of the morning. It is
done with hand brooms by a large force
of peons?so thoroughly done that nothing
better in the way of clean pavements
is to be wished for. Blocks of grayish
volcanic rock, cut in large squares and
laid diagonally across the carriage way,
form the pavement. The same kind of
pavement is to be seen in Rome, Naples
ind in ancient Pompeii. The size of the
blocks suggest to the Northern eye danger
from breakage, but as the vehicular
.raffle of the city, though great in volume,
is not heavy in weight, the stones
remain unimpaired.
MEXICAN STREET MERCHANT.
For several clays during my sojourn in
the city workrr.eu were engaged in mov
iag from the Vera Cruz Railroad station
to the national museum a great basaltic
porphyry idol?the "Goddess of "Water."
An Aztec idol of uncouth appearance,
strangely and intricately carved, it came
from the region south of Tlaxcala, where
Cortes found his tirst resistance and af'erwnrd
his most approved and courageous
allies. Its weight, by the railway
ncalcs, was twenty tons. Boilers, monoit
hs and ponderous machinery of great
weight are moved on trucks by the use of
horses without much ado in our Northern
cities. In Mexico it was slung as it
rested on iron rails from under the axles
of a vehicle with wheels ten feet
in diameter, and moved slowly by
horses and capstans over a railroad
track laid down upon the
pavement. A guard of soldiers, almost
as numerous as the gang of workmen,
were observant of the work. The idol
f.dvanced about a block a day, and was a
fortnight in getting into position. Undoubtedly
it is the heaviest object transported
through the streets of Mexico
since the days before the conquest, when
jclays of Aztecs, thousands in number.
laboriously brought the great calendar or
sacrificial stone to the teocalli where
Montezuma, and the priests who preceded
him, performed the death-dealing
rites of their gloomy religion. There are
lew, very few, manufactories?the bustling.
steam nronelled. coal-consuminc.
O' I 1 i w
iron-requiring factories of modern times
?in Mexico. There are few of the
great wholesale and distributing houses
cf our commercial cities to fill the streets
with numerous vans and loads of mer
AiuuiM rv/ruvAiAiniiii
chnndise. Neither is the disintegrating
element ot frost known in the climate;
consequently the pavements of Mexico
wear well, are smooth and clean.
Mexico is 7350 feet above the level of
!h> Tin* descend?"bajjui.r'?from
t"u; citv, as the railroad time-tables put
it, that is, to go down toward the coast,
either toward the Atlantic on the cast, or
the Pacific on the west, the circle of volcanic
mountains which surround the Valley
of Mexico must first he climbed. It
is the most remarkable range of volcanoes
in the world, forming a rampart
on a parallel sixteen miles south of the
city.
They are not all in sight from the
capital, because Popocatapetl, the highest
mountain in Mexico, and Iztaccihnntl,
it j companion and neighbor, shut out the
view. The traveler need not journey far
to the eastward before Orizaba, the most
symmetrical snow-shrouded cone in the
list of mountains, with its crater shining
like a star in the night, will be seen
towering up in the sky. If he goes
westward soon the peak of the volcano
of Toluca will present itself, which is
united by a chain of smaller volcanoes
with Iztaceihuatl and completes the iucfosure.
It is the strangest sight, this
circle of volcanoes, and one that has arrested
the attention of physicists and
geographers, both before and since the
time of Humboldt. Old Vesuvius dominates
the horizon of Naples; his smoke
drifts over the beautiful bay and city?
a landmark visiblo from a great distance.
People go from all parts of the world to
see it. Tho volcauocs within sight of
Mexico are more numerous and more remarkable.
If they were to go into eruption
nt one time they would encircle the
city with mountains of fiic.
On the great plaza of Mexico, between
the ereat cnthedral and the national
palace, is a monument to Enrico Martinez,
the illustrious Mexican cosmographer.
On this monument is inscribed
the latitude and longitude of the spot
and various other measurements, including
the very important ouc which shows
the hight of water in Lake Texcoco,
nearest the city. Standing beside this
monument I at once saw that should the
lake submerge the city, of which there
is danger, the water would be two or
three inches above my head.
The lake is smooth and salty. Bulrushes
border its banks and the mountains
are reflected on its surface. The
train left Mexico early in the morning,
the intention being to run down to the
tropical region, pass the best portion of
the day there and return at night. The
railroad people had pr^ided lunch, dinP.1
B\\ '
s
- t-" r
STREET SCENE IN MEXICO,
lug cars being as yet not introduced into
Mexico. Everything was at hand except
coffee, ami this was to be served at
Ayotla, a station fifteen miles out. A
band of music was on board, consisting
of six violins, four guitars, four clarionets,
two bass viols and six brass herns.
The company disembarked for their coffee
and the band played outside the station.
The sun was just rising, lighting
up the snowy peak of Popocatapetl in
the immediate background, the shadows
being quite deep upon its western side.
The other volcano, Iztaccibuatl, is con
nected with the greater one, the ridge
which unites them being two or thiee
miles long.
Iztaccibuatl is nn Indian word, meaning
"the white lady.'' At sunrise in the
morning the long ridge of the mountain,
covered with snow, bears a resemblance
to the form of a woman, shrouded in
white. The feet arc nearest to Popocatapetl,
the head farthest away. The
resemblance is not so apparent as the sun
mounts higher and tl^ shadows fall in
other directions, but the figure of a
woman is much more plainly^o be mado
out at all times than is Antony's Nose on
the Hudson, or the mans head on Mt.
"Washington.
While drinking the coffee and looking
at the wonderful mountain scenery, the
band begins its concert. A peon acts as
music stand. He holds n sheet in bis
hands for the clarionet, and has pinned
to his back, or to the red serapc on his
back, two other sheets for the brass
horns. He guards his fnee from the air
of the clarionet by holding the music as
a shield, but he cannot protect himself
from fhp hrnss hnrns which assail him
from the rear. Nevertheless he stands
perfectly still in the centre of this wind
blast. The music has either charmed or
paralyzed him.
Popocatepetl?an Aztec word meaning
the mountain that smokes?has an elevation
of 17,720 feet, or 1945 feet higher
than Mt. Plane, which Byron "crowned
monarch of mountains." It has not been
in eruption since 1540, twenty years after
the conquest by Cortcz. A variable
column of smoke ascends from it. The
entire mountain is owned by a gentleman
who resides in the City of Mexico. ( ]
He derives a revenue from the sulphui j (
mined from the crater, and also from the i ,
charcoal which is burned from the wood ; ,
that grows upon the mountuin side, be- ]
low the snow line. <
The ascent is not often made. It is i
not dangcv *, but very cold and disa- 1
grecable. 'iu get to the top it is nccu- j
1
THE CnURCTI OP AMECAMECA. ]
snry to start the day before an:l stop over j s
night at the sulphur miner's cabin, just ( 1
below the snow line. The discomforts 1
of a night here arc something that few 1
care to endure, and the climb through
the snow up the icy crater next morning
is very trying. The ntmosphero is thin
on account of tho enormous elevation,
and only strong men can stand it. Tho
sulphur odors have also to bo endured,
and as a few incline to such hardships,
not more than a score of men have stood
on the top of Popocatapetl siocc tho day
that Diego de Ordaz, under the command
of Cortez, made the first ascent in the
year 1519. The Emperor, Charles V.,
allowed Ordaz to use a flaming volcano
on his escutcheon. As Cortcz says no
one could reach the top of the mountain
on account of the vast accumulation of
6now at that time, it is probable that
Ordez boasted of something ho did not
parform. In that case the brothers Fredcrick
and "Willium Glennie, who climbed
it in 1827, arc tho first who should bo
credited with having reached the summit.
All who undertake to go up the
mountain first get a permit from the
owner and an order to his sulphur
miners to render assistance. Then they
go by railroad to Amecameca,twcnty-fivo
miles or so from Mexico, and there equip
themselves with extra clothing, ponies,
etc., and begin the wearisome ascent.
At. this beautiful village at the foot of
.<?e mountain there iw a lofty rock or
hill, sncred by ancient tradition, on
whose top is a church. Many people
make pilgrimages to this church at Amecameca.
"VVo do not stop there exoent to take
more coffee and look at tho mountains
from a new and nearer point of view.
In the fields, rich with a dark, volcanic
soil, the bare legged peons arc plowing.
The plow ii a stick set into a heavy
beam. Horses and oxen pull it. It is
in antiquated sort of plow,such as Abraham
might have used in the days when
he was the most advanced farmer of the
World. Those who have <een Egypt say
the scene reminds them of that ancient
land. It has a strange look. The fields
are full of peons cultivating the ground,
and the vegetation might very well bo
Egyptian. The peons are good workmen.
They lose no time in soldiering;
their motions are quick, and their industry
keeps them in ceaseless activity.
The sunshine burns us, and yet a little
way above us is the land which touches
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Df Popocatepetl, measuring from the top,
Is covered with snow. That is to say,
fhcre is a band of snow about the giant's
:one that is fully a mile wide. A Mexican
gentlemen tells me that It is 500 feet
icep in the barrancas and hardly less
than 100 feet deep anywhere except on
the southern side.
"White summer clouds come drifting up
toward the peak. Where the sua strikes
apon the clouds they show whiter than
the snow. The lowest of these clouds is
more than two miles below its crest; oc:asionally
a light one ascends near to the
top. The snow is more permanently
white than the clouds with a tinge of in3igo
to its whiteness. As noon comes on
the clouds disappear, and the glare of
the sun on the mountain top becomes
stronger.?Detroit Free Press.
It Will Eclipse the Eiffel Tower.
London is to have a tower higher than
the one at the Paris exposition that attracted
so much attention and to rival
which has been one of die ambitions of
A tnprirans who nrs enneriftllv interested
in the Columbian exposition. The London
tower, which is to be erected by the
Wat kin Tower Company a mile or two
north of St. John's Wood, is to be 1200
feet in height, and to be constructed of
steel. Four lifts and two staircases are
provided, situated in the legs of the
tower, which rise to the principal stage
at a height of 200 feet above the ground.
Ilcre the designers have provided for the
benefit of visitors a large area consisting
of a gTcat central hall, which under able
management would prove one of the
special attractions of the tower. The
hall would bo of an octagonal form,
20,000 feet area and sixty feet high, the
spaces between the eight legs of the
tower at the angles of the octagon forming
eight recesses for restaurants,management
rooms, etc. Over the recesses, and
clustered round the central hall, the
uithors suggest the construction of a
hotel, of ninety bed-rooms, with all
accessary baths and other accommodation.
As the special features which the hotel
could offer would be the advantages of
U t-1
pure air, sun-ngni aim upcu |irusjn:ci.a,
:ho whole of the bed-rooms have been
placed on the external fnces of the tower,
The restaurants on the main platform
tvould provide dining accommodation,
>ne being especially set apart for the use
>f residents, and the kitchens would be
irrnnged 0:1 the mezzanines over the
icrving-rooms attached to the restaurants.
?Chicago Newh.
A Snake With Legs.
Dan Hendricks, liviug near Viola,
town, killed a two-legged rattlesnake the
ither day. It was three feet long, and
!iad two legs two inches in length,placed
ibout six inches below the head. When
irst seen it was walkiug on the legs,
ivriggling the lower portion of its body. J
[thud live rattles.?Cincinnati Enquirer. '
VOICES IN THE AIR.
There are voices in the air,
Everywhere. t
Some predicting fortunes fair,
Some whispering ruth, some prayer,
There are voices in the air
Everywhere.
There are voices in the air
Everywhere.
They come to me in the night,
^nd my timid soul affright,
Or they greet me when I rise,
And dispel my tears and sighs.
There are voices in the air
Everywhere.
There are voices in the air
Everywhere.
They soothe my soul to rest,
And they tear my tortured breast,
Of faith and hope they sing,
And they kill the rays that spring.
There are voices in the air
Everywhere.
There are voices in the air
Everywhere.
They come from the spirit-land.
Friends and foes on every lmnd,
And they torture or they bless,
Bringing comfort or distress.
There are voices in the sir
Everywhere.
PITII AN D_ POINT.
Ail utter failure?Stammering.
A pair of dumb belles?Two sleeping
beauties.
A suit for damages?The one Johnnie
wears on week days.?Puck.
The old mare speaks to her colt in a
horse whisper.?Pittsburg Ohronicle.
Four rods make one rood, but one rod
can take the rudeness out of quite a number.?Binghamton
Leader.
When a man forgets himself he usually
does something that makes others remember
him.?Atchiton Globe.
" This world Is ail a fleeting show, ,:
And soon grim deith will jerk "us
But let's be happy as we go,
And all enjoy the circus.
?Albany (Ga.) News.
."Gold will procure most of the luxuries,"
said the hardware man, "but it
takes iron for the staples."?Tcrrc Unite
Exprets.
"Say, Jack! I'll give you a fiver if
you'll answer a simple question right."
"Done." "Lend me a tenner, will you!"
?Harvard Lampoon.
Hanging a handlo to his name gives
the impecunious foreigner a much better
chance of being picked up by society.?
Terre Haute Express.
"She jilted me for that fellow Jim
when we were three days out from Liv
orpool." "Threw you overboard in raidoceau!
Barbarous!"?Harper s Bazar.
At home a room divided t'.:cm,
So timid then wasElla;
But on the sand they sit?ahem!
Quito hid by one umbrella.
?Pittsburg Bulletin.
Miss Plaingirl?"I sometimes fear that
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Hi; UUCOU V IWtW Ulb) JV? IUV
last night." Miss Prettypert?"Then
you may rest assured that ho loves you."
?New York Sun..
Wickers?"They tell me, Professor,
that you have mastered all the modern
tongues." Professor Polyglot?"All but
two?my wife's and her mother's."?
Ttrre Haute Express.
Borne go to tho seashore and some to the
mountains,
Some go to the valley and some to the bay,
Some go to the woodland, some to the
. prairie,
To eat fish and oatmeal at $4.50 a day.
?Statesman.
There are fears that the cracker trust
may have a disastrous effect on clam
chowder, it has been the custom for
6ome years to serve that dish minus clams.
What will it be without crackers??Boston
Traveler.
Pastor?"I should like to sec you taking
a more active interest in religious
things, Miss Bessie." Miss Bessie?"I
?I'm afraid it wouldn't do, Mr. Goodman.
I couldn't be spared from the
choir."?Chicago Tribune.
Senior Partner?"What did that young
roan want?" Junior?"lie has just been
graduated from Harvard, and came in
to see if we didn't want to take him into
the concern. He said he'd work a year
V*ie numn /\n tho Clfrn "
UlllJUUW uouug "W UWU4W VM
?Nexc York Sun.
First Paris Artist?"Vy you put znt
fait in ze paint?" Second Artist?"Ect
Is for a marine picture. I make ze paint
talt; zen when ze English put zair fingers
on ze water and afterward put zair fingers
to zair lips, zay say, 'Eet is wonderful!
Vc almost taste ze salt of ze ocean.' Zen
zay buy."?London Tit-Bits.
The Pittsburg Lcvlcr says that a farsighted
miss of fou'tcen summers has determined
to marry a big man for her first
husband and a little one for the second,
60 that she can cut the clothes of the first
down and make them over for his successor.
Thus the hard times force home
lessons of rigid economy and practical
6ense upon tender childhood.
Fritz comes from school, takes his excr
cise-booKs, ana wrues very ousuy.
Mamma (delighted)?"That is the right
way to do, my boy; that is the way to
get good marks. What exercise are you
writing?" "The teacher said we must
nil learn this poem thoroughly by tomorrow
morning or we should have to
copy it, so I thought it would be better
to write it to-night."?Fliengende Blaettcr.
Electricity Applied to the Dairy.
A foreign paper calls attention to an
interesting application of electricity to
the dairy interest that lias beeu made in
Italy. The Count of Assata, whose buildings
arc fitted up with the electric light,
has connected his dairy plant with an
electric motor of twelve horse-power.
This machine drives a Danish separator
and a Danish churn of the capacity of
400 litres of cream, churning beiug conducted
at the rate of 120 to 160 revolutions
per minute, the butter being
brought in from thirty to thirty-five minutes,
in fine grains, which, it is now recognized,
enables the maker to produce
the finest article. A jmuip is also worked
in the dairy.
*