The Barnwell people. (Barnwell, S.C.) 1884-1925, September 11, 1884, Image 1
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VOL. VIII.
■Uni"
Ijlfn and Death.
B
;L, S. C., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 1884:
* • i,^
i less
»return al-
•t divine,
fate* coni-
0 solemn portal, veiled in mist s J cloud.
Where ait who’vc lived throng >1 an end
lino.
Forbid to tell by backward look r sign
What destiny awaits the advancfK crowd;
Rourne crossed but once, with
lowed;
Dumb, spectral gate, terrestrial
beyond whose arch all powers ai
bine.
Pledged to divulge no secrets of
Close, close behind we step,
oatch
Some whisper In the dark, somt 'limmerlng
light;
Through circling whirls of thou it intent to
snatch
A drifting hope—a faith that gif*'* <« sight;
And yet assured, whatever may
si
pfall.
That must be somehow host that omes to all.
—C. P. Cranch in t he J u
Pro and Con.
When ships come over tho sea, r
Come over the shining sea,
Like maidens walking a minuet
Wbite-ralnientod daintily—
Ob, what do they bring undeiftoch
wing.
What aongs do the sailors sing.
White the breete* frolic along t
And the crested bil ows behind
As over the sea, 1 he shining sea,
The ships come sailing so inerrii
shite
deep,
lem sweep.
When ships oome over the tea, dear.
Come over the stormy sen.
The cordage creaks in the ^histjg winds.
And the sails flap dismally;
And tho sailors s«ear till tae ra damp air
Is visibly tinged with a sulphur 8 glare,
And the seasick pnsKcngrra lain r groan.
tl
And the sea gulls scream and
moan,
As over the sea, the storm—wep
Tho ships come laboring wear
—David Li. Proudfil In the
THU LAST STKW.
‘It is the last straw that
camel’s hack,” said Lucy, bfsting into |
tears.
The pleasant
Juno sunb rus camo
peepinw into the cool,
dairy, where pans pf .uijlk.
were ranged in orderly s ay; great
;lves, and
already
he shroud;
strive to
Century.'
lore.
tpecting
irt; and
wild winds
ea,
anbattao.
rcaks tho
Dne-paved
id cream
Jjecame a
Example all-pow-
gtonc pots stood under the i
a blue-painted churn w
placed on ihe table for sen
Mr. Bellenden was just proud of
his dairy. Not a chance gilt came to
the house but was invited |wn to see
it; not a housekeeper in th^neighbor-
hood but secretly envied itmany con
veniences and exquisite nealcss.
‘•And it isn’t the dairy (one,” tri
umphantly remarked Matthr Bcllen-
deu. “And you may go tjough the
house from garret to cellar.pd you’ll
never find a speck of dust o|i stain of
rust. There never was stuya house
keeper as my wife!”
Mrs. Bellenden was ying, too,
scarcely threo-aud-twenty. She had
been delicately roared and uite igno
rant of all the machinery < domestic
life, until she married Matt w Bcllen-
den.
‘Tt’s very strange,” Lueyiad
ten to her father. “The fai is beau- !
tiful. You never saw sucli jonstrous 5
old elm-trees, nor such su rb roses,
and the meadows are full ol L-d clover, j
Srid the strawberries shiao .u jewels
ou the sunny hillsides. Ii nobody
sketches or reads. I don t Ink there
is a copy of Tennyson in he whole J
neighborhood, and no one i*r heard
of Dore or Millais. All theiiiuk of is |
how many dozens of eggs tilbens lay, ,
and how many cheeses thoykn make
in a year. And the woman no has a
now receipt for homc-inad4ine, or a
new pattern for patchworjquilts, is |
the leader of society.”
But presently young Mrs^ellenden
herself caught the fever, an<j
model housewife,
erful, and Lucy began to Uevo that
tho whole end and aim of li was do
mestic thrift, money-savin and the
treadmill of work.
"Mv dear,” said Matilid “if you
thought you eoulil- get alcn^vithout a
servant this year, I might able to
afford that new reaper befq the oat-
crop comes in.”
‘•I’ll try,” said Lucy.
And after that she rose fcbro day
break, and worked later inlie night
than over.
“What is the matter with hr hands,
Lucy?" her husband askedme day.
They are not so white and dutiful as
they used to be. ”
Lucy colored as she glanc down at
the members in question.
*T suppose it is making fos,” she
said.
And then she took to wiring kid
gloves at her sweeping aj dusting
and digging out of ashes.
••My coat is getting shakr,” Mat
thew one day remarked.
“Why don’t you buy anol r one?”
asked his wife.
Matthew laughed a short
“What do you think M
has done?” said he. “She
her husband’s old suit and
tern by it, and made a nov
saved him two pounds.”
“I could do that,” said
sparkling eye*. “I will try
“You can do anything,
■aid Mr. Bellenden, admirin
And Lucy felt that she bother rich
reward.
Company began to come akoon
nice wetther set in.
All the affectionate relatid of Mr
Bellenden aoon discovered iat the
farm-house was cool and s iy, that
Lucy’s cooking was excellen nd that
the bedrooms were neatness ill
Some of them were even gc enough
to inyite their relations as w and so
the house was full from A to Do
cember with yisitors who br^ht their
carpet-bags and valises with
in human hospitality which
life’s best gifts.
Mrs. Bellenden’s fame we
among the Dorcases of the
hood in the matter of butter
yhe took prizes in the domesi depart-
monts of all the agricultural rs, and
*he adjoining housewiyes ok no
Trouble to make things that could
bonow of Mrs. Bellenden,
-well as not"_
And one day, wheh poor Li
the blighting influence of
sick headache, was end
strain three or four gallons
the shining pans, the newt
her husband’s Uncle Paul
to the farm.
“Another guest!” said Lu
sne couutn't nave nim because she has
no servant just now ”
“Neither have I!” said Lucy, robell-
iously.
“And Sarah don’t like company.”
“/ am supposed to be fond of it!”
observed Lucy, bitterly.
“And Reuben's girls don’t want old
folks staying there. It’s too much
trouble, they say,” added Matthew.
Lucy bit her lip to keep back the
words she might have uttered, and
said, instead:
“Where is he to sleep? Tho Belfords
have the front bed-room, and your
Cousin.Susan occupies the back, and
tho fohr Miss Phttersons's sleep in tho
tw'*> garrets.
Slie might, have added that she and
her’husband, and tho baby had slept in
a hot little den opening from tho
kitchen for four weeks, vainly ex
Mr. and Mrs. Belford to depar
that she had never yet had a chance to
invito her father to the farm in pleas
ant weather.
But she was magnanimous, and held
her peace.
“Oh, you can find some place for
him!” said her husband, lightly.
“There’s that little room at tho end of
the hall where tho spinning-wheel is.”
“Bat it isn’t furnished!” pleaded
Lucv.
“You ean easily sew a carpet togeth-; to f or
er out of those old piecej from the Bel-
ford’s room; and it’s no trouble to put
up a muslin curtain to the window and
lift in a stump bedstead; and you can
just tack together a mattrass and
whitewash the ceiling, and—What’s
that, Lucy? The cows in the turnip
field! Dear me! everything goes wrong
if 1 step into the house for a moment.
And really, Lucy, these things are youi
business, not mine!” he added, irrita-
b.v.
Lucy could not help laughing, all by
herself, as her husband ran up tho
ste ps.
But it was a very sad little laugh,
and soon changed into a sigh.
“I wonder,” said she, in a whisper,
“if my poor tired-out ghost would
haunt these stone pavements and scrub
bed shelves if 1 were to die? I never
heard of a ghost in a dairy before, but I
should think that it might very easily
he.”
But the little bod-room w’as fitted up,
for all that, as fresh as a rose, and
Uncle Paul arrived, a dried-up, yellow-
complexioned old man, will# an old-
fashioned cravat tied in many folds
around his neck, and a broad-brimmed,
low-crowned hat and fine, gold-headed
dairy maid, l^l^FhdViSe-servant to
wait ou Lucy. And he telegraphed to
her father to come to Silvan Bridge at
oace,
“She deserves a treat,” ho said. “Ho
shall spend the summer with u*.”
And then he went to tell Lucy.
She had fainted among the butter
cups, picking strawberries for tea.
Poor little Lucy! The machinery had
utterly refused to revolve any longer.
His heart grew cold within him.
“She will die,” he thought, "and I
shall have murdered her.”
But she did not die. She recovered
her strength by degrees.
“It is bettor than any medicine,” she
said, “to know that Matthew is think
ing of mo and for me.”
And Uncle Paul—“the last straw,”
as she had called him—had proved her
salvation.
“I didn’t want her to go as Joe’s
wife did,” said Uncle Paul.
A Greeley Reminiscence.
Ben Van Houtcn, Greeley’s old bell
boy, is driving a milk wagon Jn New
Jersey. Ho was 6 feet high when in
the Tribune service, and ho had eyes
like goggies and a hand like the hand
of Providence.
"Bub,” said Horace to him, as he en
tered his sanctum one night, "I want
in hour or two, and I don’t
want to be bothered. Keep all the
burns out of my room.”
“Yes, Mr. Greeley,” Ben replied in a
hoarse voice, for he had a voice like
a bull of Basham.
Within half an hour Bon Bruce, Den
nis McLaughlin, and several other po
litic.-.! gadflies tried to buzz their way
to the old man’s room, but were sum
marily squelched by Ben. Finally,
Senator lienry Wilson, of Massachu-
seeis, entered. He had been on aca “* y onr p regeu t ways before you can prop-
paign tour in Indiana, and he wore the J V . q ^ You seem to
dir !• st duster aud slouch hat that had j t Vi... „ bright
Breakfast Tablfc Lecture.
An‘old gentleman, t|ie other morning
at the breakfast tablej looked up at bis
daughter, a tall girl with an effort at
dreaminess, and remarked:
“Louise, 1 was at too theatre last
night, and just as the curtain was
about to go down ad tho end of tho
first act, I saw you and a kinkoy-hcad-
cd young fellow outer, pranco along
the aisle, and finally, after much an
noyance to those who happened to bo
in tho neighborhood of your seats, you
and your delicate companion succeeded
iu ceasing to attract uio attention of
the wholo house.”
“Why, how you do talk, pa.”
“I only statu facts. Why wore you
so late? Was it because the yoting man
did not get here in time?”
“Oh, no, ho cam* here in plenty of
time.”
“Well, was it because you had seen
the play before and found it objection
able?”
“No, sir.”
“Why, then, were you so late?”
“Oh, pa, you don’t understand.
Common people go early, you know,
but people who are supposed to know
something are not in such a hurry.”
“Supposed to know something,” re
plied the father, “is very good, but like
nine out of ten suppositious, is incor
rect You may think that to studious
ly enter a theatre at a late hour—and a
few weak-minded people may a<rreo
with you- is a mark of good breeding,
but in truth it is rudeness, if not ac
tually vulgar. I also noticed that
you had a wad of gum in your mouth,
and that the youug calf that accompnn-
pauied you was also chewing a quid.
The Cost of High Speed.
Some experiments have been made
lately upon the Bound Brook Route to
asoertain the difference in tho consump
tion of coal between an express tram
running on schedule time and the same
train run at a very low speed, but oth
erwise under the same conditions, the
same five oars and precisely similar
engines being used. The trains ran in
each case from Philadelphia to Bound
Brook aud back, a distance of 119
miles. The slow trip was made in 9
hours 23 minutes, 4,420 pounds of coal
being consumed. The train stopped at
tho same places as tho regular express
train, tho only unusual feature of the
trip being the funeral pace, averaging
a little over 12$ miles an hour. When
running on schedule time tho consume
tion was 6,725 pounds, agreeing close
ly with the usual consumption on this
route with tho regular five-car express
trains. Tho saving effected in coal by
running the train at a very slow pace
was 2,305 pounds. The percentage of
saving may bo expressed in two ways:
as compared with tho consumption at
tho normal express speed, tho slow
speed shows a saving of 34.2 per cent,
while tho consumption at the high
speed shows an increase over that at
the low speed of 52.1 per cent.
These figures show that high speed
is not so expensive as is generally im
agined. The speed of 12.5 miles an
hour for a through passenger train
making few stops is, of coarse, imprac
ticable, for various reasons. Probably
tho difference in coal consumption be
tween the lowest speed practically
possible under ordinary*conaitions and
a high express speed is even smaller
Ringing Use
There la on* young ooupte III this
city, says the Detroit Free iVsss, vfho
are ready to open an exchange where
they may get rid Of some superfluon*
jewelry they have on hands, or, rather,
Mren r t on hand, because the hand 1>
quite too small for the jewelry. There
is a new baby in the family, and before
it was a week old they received a small
box from California, and upon opening
ring with
’ engraved on the
Another mark of good breeding, I sup- than the figures giveu, which represent
pose. My daughter, you have a great a lower speed than is over attained on
deal to learn, and must forget many of I an ordinary railroad.
been seen in New York since tho de
parture of the Pendleton escort in 1868.
The Senator dropped his carpet-bag
and advanced toward the open door of
Greeley’s sanctum, whence he was con
fronted by Bon.
blurted the
cf
constitute
it
abroad
ighbor-
chi
ih« utuved
that heads our sketch.
■‘•Oh, it’s only Uncle Paul!’
Bellenden. “Don’t tret,
^e , -*■ ■ 1 gisi si
mmM nWHi
the world. He’ll make Bo
dfcata trlofrrt . Jatort
cane.
He had the polite way of half a cen
tury ago, and Lucy thought she should
, like hmi very much, if only she had
wnt " ' time to get acquainted with him.
But sho was churning ten pounds of
butter a day, and there was the baby,
and the company, and tho youug chick- a^
cns. snd tho baking to do.
She was almost too busy to sleep. But
Uncle Paul was watching her quietly ail
the time.
He came out, one day, to Uie barn,
where his nephew was putting a new
handle on a sickle-blade.
"Pretty busy times—eh. Uncle Paul?"
said the'farmer, scarcely taking the
leisure to look up.
“Aye,” absently answered tho old
man. “Did I tell you, nephew Mat-
\ thew, about the reason 1 left your
j Cousin Joseph’s?”
“Not that I remember,” said Mat
thew, breathing ou the blade, and pol-
: ishing it with his silk handkerchief.
“Dorothy died—his wife!”
j “Oh, yes,” said Matthew. “Low
' fever, wasn’t it?”
“No!” bluntly answered Uncle Paul.
' “It was hard work. That woman,
nephew Matthew, did the housework
for eight persons. Joe didn't even let
her liave a woman to help with tho
washing aud the ironing!”
“Must have been a regular-going
brute,” said Matthew, tightening tho
handle a little.
“All the sewing, too,” added Uncle
Paul—“tho mending* and making. She
never went anywhere except to church.
Joe didn't believe iu women gadding
about"
“The old savage!” said Matthew.
“She was fond of reading, but sho
never got any time for it,” said Undo
Paul, “She rose before sundawn, and
never lay down until eleven o’clock.
It was hard work that killed that wo
man, and Joseph coolly declared that
it was sheer laziness when sho couldn’t
drag herself about any longer. And
when she died ho rolled up his eyes
and called it the visitation of Provi
dence.”
“Why didnt’ tho neighbors lynch
him?” cried Matthew, fairly aroused
to indignation at last.
Uncle Paul took off his glasses, wiped
them vigorously, and looked his nephew
hard in the face.
“Why don’t the neighbors lynch
you?” said he.
Matthew dropped tho sickle, and
stared.
“Nephew Matthew,” said Uncle PauL
impressively, “thou art tho man! Are
you not doing the very same thing?”
“I?” gasped Matthew.
“Your wife is doing the work of a
household of sixteen people,” said
Uncle Paul. "She is drudging as you
could get no stranger to drudge. Sho
is rising early, and Iving down late;
she is offering up her life on the shrine
of your farm and its requirements. I
have seen her grow thin and pale even
(luring the few days I have been hero.
I have seen her carry up Mrs. Belford’s
breakfast daily to her room, because
Mrs. Belford preferred to lie in bed;
and cooking dainty dishes for Helen
Patterson, because Helen wouldn’t eat
what the rest like. No galley-slave
ever worked as sho does. And you,
with your farm hands—whose board
only adds to her cares, and your array
of labor-saving machinery, stand coolly
by and see her commit slow suicide.
Yes, nephew Matthew, I think it ** a
case for lynching]”'
Matthew had grown pale.
•T—I never thought of this,” said
he. Why didn’t some one tell me?”
‘Where were Tour eyes?” said Uncle
Paul Matthew Bellendon rolled down
his shirt sleeves, put on his coat and
mat iqto the house.
Ha told the Belfords and Pattersons
“Where are you going
watchdog.
“I’m going to see Mr. Greolcy?" the
Senator replied.
“Not much 3‘ou haiu’t,” roared Ben,
elevating his voice so as to make him
self solid with Horace. "Git right o’
h< re, or I’ll holp yon out.”
General Wilson was dumbfounded.
His face, usually red, w as made redder
by Ben’s manner.
“Won’t you be so kind as to take my
name in to Mr. Greeley?” ho asked.
Ben looked hard at him and asked
his name, “Wilson,” was tho reply.
“Well,” said Ben, “I’ll go in and see
if ho wants to see you."
Ho returned in forty seconds, more
gressivo than ever.
•Tt’s just as I told you,” be roared. ;
“He won’t see you; now, d—n you, git J
out o’ here. ”
Wilson turned to Amos Cummings,
night editor, who lay back in his
chair, bursting with suppressed emo
tion.
“What’s tho matter, General?” ho
asked.
Seuator W’ilson, explained, while Ben
looked on in astonishment.
“There must be some mistake,” the
night editor remarked, “and I’ll take
you in and introduce you to Mr. Gree
ley.”
They entered the great editor’s sanc
tum together. Horace sat at his high
desk, with eyes close to the manuscript,
scratching away like a hen on a fresh
sand-heap.
“Mr. Greeley,” said Amos, “here’s
Senator Wilson. You refused to see
him just now.”
There was a moment of
think that a lavish mixture
colors and a gaudy flower
i the rig—”
| “Rig, pa?”
“Rig. I call it rig, for I can think of
; no better term. You think that these
vulgar flashes constitute the rig in
which you best appear, but you make a
mistake. You are a handsome girl,
when you are natural, but when you
are nbt, you remind me of a cheap
chromo. When you are at home
you dress neatly, and, I wdnk, are
I very attractive. Don't you think that
this is rather pretty?” holding up a
! lily.
| “Yes, sir.”
1 "Now, wo’ll see how this improves
” aud he tied a strip of red flannel
High speed to a certain extent di
minishes both tho number of men and
amount of rolling stock necessary to
carry a given traffic; and this saving
must bo set against the Increase iu
coal consumption and wear and tear.
In the case under notice, at a slow
speed, the run of 119 miles would make
a fair day’s work for both trainmen
and train; whereas, at tho normal
■peed, allowing for the necessary delay
at stations, switching, turning and
loading engine, etc., quite double the
mileage might be made in a day. As
engiuemen are ordinarily paid by tho
trip, this would not reduce their wages
unless some change were made in the
practice, but probably some change
would bo made if runs which now re
quire six or seven hours were reduced
to four or live. Double tho amount ol.
the rolling stock being required, the round
lily’s appearance?” j houses, etc., must ho larger and the
pa!" sidings in which to store tno cars must
“Of course not, but it reminds mo of oe longer. Tho interest on the addi-
an over-dressed woman.” tionai rolling stock and plant would
“But, speaking about the theatre, 1 thus amount to quite a large figure. In
I heard ma say that sho and you some cases the slower train might
often went to Ute theatre and ar- actually be the more expensive to run/
j leaving on one side all questions as to
tho convenience of rapid traveling and
, its effect in increasing the volume of
travel. On tho wholo, tho result ol
these experiments seems to be strongly
in favor of high speeds for both passen
ger and freight trains.—Railroad Ga
zette.
it/’ aud he tied a strip
around tho stem. “Think it helps
nice?”
‘Oh,'"*'"
it found a tiny gold
come little stranger,
inside.
"it’s much too large for the
and not quite large enough to fit me,
■aid the young mother, plaintively; bnt
on the principle that it would keep the
put it away, and dictated a letter of
thanks to the sender.
The next day the baby’sAunt sent it
a lovely little ring sor in pearls,
with "Our pet” marked on the inner
circle.
Then it’s grandmother sent it a ring
made out of a piece of gold found in
dear grandpa'a pocket uter his death,
and it had two sets of initials and a Bi
ble text Inscribed on it*
But the next ring was from a school
friend, and was a wide band of gold
with a quarter dollar bangle bang by a
tiny chain, and the sentiment ‘Of such
is the kingdom of Heaven," was con
densed into it quite dlscernable with a
microscope, however.
Then tne baby’s uncle got home from
Now York, and when he had kissed the
new arrival he took something out of
his vest pocket:
“I couldn't sec a thing to get the kid
except this,” he said, as he open
ed a tiny box. “I knew nobody
would think of giving such a little
shaver a ring, so I got one. Hallo, sis,
what’s the matter!’”
The young mother had fainted. But
they restored her in time W see her
dear old Aunt Letitia, who nd stopped
over on her wsy to the Psciilo Coast to
seo that blessed bsby. ,
“Not s ring on her dear, sweet little
hands,” said the old lady, severely;
“Austy Lishy didn’t forget her tootsey-
wootsey.” And she slipped a eameo
circlet on the small red finger. It had
a Greek word engraved on it wbioh
means “Hope.”
“There’s the postman's rin&” said
the nurse one day as she looked out of
tho window.
“He’s (Hinging another off-riag to the
baby; I know it/’ said the pale, young
mother.
But they carry them to another room
now, where they are numbered, sorted
out and put awsy in regular order,
shining mementoes of the awful want
of originality, which is usually possess-
cd by tho friends of a first baby.
* » ^ 1 ■ — ■
'When Greeley Got Swearing Mad.
George W. Smalley, London
. >JW ■■ ’ • •
Rowell hau l
if i "
A
advantages”
tery.
When • aua bearite *
^thought he is Uable t*
Mm A. T. fltartrayt tr
years old and the rleheetv
world.
At the Carlisle fndfai
are at present 466
ISOglrU.
Paper is now used fct
stead of wood in the
lead pencils.
These are
roses kiss the
forget to go away,
Two new Cuaarders
built with the object of
▼ions records (a
Robert Grifto. of
world will not bo
the population in
from now.
Wall street is aa
where a man oaa lose
four years without hitf
town Herald.
There are 124,000 Tfeijas of
in tho United States, or sevsa thpes as
many miles as there are In the Uadtod
Kingdom of Greet Britain.
The staiaed-gUse mm hi
able households Is
opinion of in
wholesale imitattdo killed
Darby Grass
who was seven
duration <4 In
lie in stfll vigorous
The Kentucky ■
lives hss passed a Mil
clists from using the pahlla loads of
most of the oowatlss fs the slam
New York's Laghfffrs has si dial
ed from wsatlsai tha propsrty sf st
abled ministers ndmMits gar «*
years dd, to tho safNMA flf fl,H0.
Charles Baade'
*£■
•- 'a
lyself hroahlag\ TvUh to go
rived late.”
“That can be explained.”
“How?”
“Your mother and I were fools,
child, aud now recognizing it, I wish
to warn you.”—Arkansaw Traveler.
Illusions of Memory.
An
Impressive Effect
Scone.
for a Brl
silence.
Horace scratched away without look
ing up.
“Well,” ho piped in a shrill alto,
without removing his pen, “the boy
said that a d—d old bum named Wil
son wanted to see me, and I thought
it was Billy Wilson.”—The Journalist.
Fucetlousness of Furniture.
The North American /bTiew publishes
a paper treating of tho illusions of
memory. Tho subject is handled in a
masterly manner, telling of the strango “I went into Quaritch’s book store
impressions we sometimes feel in look- one day, aud among other curious
ing out over a landscape never before hooks 1 picked up an old, black-letter
seen by us, yet, suddenly there comes volume. It was a work on “Ceremo-
a flash of indistinct recollection as if, nios,” with four large illustrztious. I
years ago, back to wnieh time memory went into the shop to spend fouror five
refuses to travel in a direct line, wo pounds; I spent eighty-four or five, end
looked upon the scene. Some investi- ! carried off tho "ulacK-letter
gators have thought that a roan during
a certain mental condition, can look at
poodent of the Tribune, is • son-lit-law
of Wendell Phillipe Ho graduated
from Yale College and won bis Journ
alistic spurs by writing in a baggage
car a report of the battle of Aatietam.
In 1867, while John Russell Young-was
out of the city, Smalley was temi
in charge of the Tribune.
Cummings was night editor. Greeley
bad written an editorial article one
night, and having an engagement to
lecture before a Father Mathew society,
had left the office without reading his
proof sheets. He asked Cummings to
o over the revise proof. Amos did so,
BRXHaritjr
§:
cy, with
dear!”
as
faith
one of
teese
ust as
“I must have some rest this sum
mer,” said the clock; “I’m all run
down.” *
“1 think 1 need a country seat,”
said the easy chair, leaniug on his el
bow.
•T’m getting played out,” said the
piano; “a little fresh air would be a
good thing for me.”
“That’s what I want,” said the
sofa; “a little fresh air at the springs.”
“1 should like to go with tho sofa and
iou'nge in the woods,” said the foot
stool.
•Tf mv legs were stronger,” said the
tabic, “1 should go to tho country for
some leaves.”
"Country board is always so plaiu,”
growled the sideboard; “nobody that
is knobby or polished there."
“Let me reflect,” said tho mirror;
“they have very plain-looking lassies
there, too, do they not?”
“You mako me plush,” said tho di
van—and here the housemaid closed
the folding-doors and shut them all up.
What Was
the Lineman's
Feat.
Greatest
“What do you consider as tho great
est feat in the history of tho linemen?”
The old lineman thought a moment
aud then said: “I think it occurred
when George Riley was ordered iu a
hurry to carry a secret wire from a di
rector’s room—to hide it, understand.
He looked over the room and found a
speaking tube. After trying vainly to
push the wires down through the aa-
f ;les of tho tube, he went into the ceL
ar, set a trap and caught a mouse. He
then tied a string to the mouse’s tail
aud sent the mouse safely down the
tube. When tho string was through
he made the wires sing to it. They
were then readily drawn through to
the room, three stories below, where
the terminus of tho tube was.”
The old lineman didn’t laugh and the
reporter didn’t dare to do so.—Philadel
phia Times. *
Ifords
that it was InooiiTenient to keep them
mv longer. He gave Cousin Susan to
tmdefftaa* thM &r room was needed.
board
to
The town of Atkinson, Me., has
a man whose principal trade Is black-
smithing. He has in one corner of hi*
shop a dentist’s chair, and will stop at
any time to relieve any one’ suffering
from toothache. When business ie dim
In these two braschee, hois transformed
into a lawyer. la edditten. he la a
■*
a strange object and that only one hem
isphere of his miqd receives tho im
pression. Suddenly the other hemi
sphere receives it, and still retaining
the impression taken by the first hemi
sphere, he remembers to have seen tho
object before. No man has satisfactor
ily explained this illusion, but there are
illusions of memory which can b« ex
plained. For instance a man goes
home after a day of toil, and says to
his wife:
“Saw our old friend Jackson to-day.
Looking fine. Said he was never in
better health in his life. Asked about
you. If business don't go better, I
don’t know what we are going to do.
By the way, I saw our old friend Jack-
son to-day. Looking fine. Said he
would like very much to see you. I
am tired. Such a rush of busiuess that
I haven't had time to sit down. Whom
do you suppose I saw to-day?"
“Jackson,” replies his wife rather
severely.
( “What! did he come up here?
Said he would like to see you. I want
to get down town early to-morrow. I
forgot to tell you that I saw our old
•frieud Jackson.”
This illusion of memory has not
baffled scientific research. The gentle
man is drunk. Therq is also an illu
sion of eye-sight, where objects take
double impressions. Any one thus
afflicted is also drunk.—Arkansaw
Traveler.
The Party Call.
“Don’t you think ‘germane’ are an
awful bore?” asked young Pilkins, af
ter a silence of ten minutes’ duration.
“Sometimes,” sighed Miss Cotillion,
with an oh-do-take-him-away look in
her deep blue eyes. "Have you been to
many?”
“I’ve, ah, led about sixteen this win
ter,” answered Pilkins, iu an off-hand
“How appropriate.” said Miss Cotil
lion, drowsily. “Just one for every
year of your age;” nud then there en
sued another lonir. delicious pause,
while the young man regarded his pat
ent-leather shoes uml the clock deliber
ately counted eleven. — Lift.
In a recent trial on the Thames of
sm electric launch forty feot long, with
a storage battery, a speed of seven
knots an hour was attained. The speed
of a steam launch, with engine, boiler,
water and coal soffioiant for n six
hours’ run, would have been from
and a half to two miles an hour great-
«r. Comparing the electrical system
with steam, the advantages of electrio-
ity are eatim absence of aoiee, great 'j
cfcanlinesa, and vesy small room need
ed for machinery; aa '
Hieieady ina
feet was a mass of vergers, or javelin
men—officers of the church, I should
book on
j “Ceremonies”—all Italian. I was at
I the time preparing “Much Ado” for
the Lyceum. Iu the picture of a wed
ding ceremony 1 saw what struck me
as a wonderful effect, and of theperiod,
too—tho Shakspearo period. Tne ef-
f i
urch,
say. They were dressed in long robes,
aud each carried a halberd. I pressed
these men at once into the service of
Sbakspeare and his cathedral scene at
Messina, and got that impressive effect
of their entrance and the background
of sombre color they formed for the
dresses of the bridal party. And it is
right, too—that's the best of it Not
long ago I was at Seville, and saw a
church ceremony there, where the dif
ferent parties came on in something
like tho fashion of our people on the
stage; but we never did anything so
fine iu that way as the entrances of the
visitors at tho “Capulets” in “Romeo
and Juliet”—the different companies
of maskers, with their separate retain
ers and torch bearers.”—From Irving's
“Impressions of America."
t ^
An Alleged Cure for Headache#.
James Carlcy, of this town, a jour
hatter, recently suffered for a week
with severe headache. Every possible
remedy was reported to without relief.
Finally "• of his shopmates informed
him that D. B. Wilkes, living in the
upper end of Kingstreet District could
cure it without fail. According Carley
set out to find tho man who possessed
the panacea that oould relieve him
from his untold suffering. Mr. Wilkes,
whose occupation is a farmer, receiv
ed him cordially and at once assured
him that ho could cure his headache.
He requested Carlev to accompany him
to the old cider-mill, which they en
tered, and Mr. Wilkes pulled out from
beneath the press a box covered with a
coal sieve. From the box he took a
live black snake and wound it around
Carley’s neck. Strange as it may
seem, almost instantaneously the pain
left bis head and has not returned since.
Mr. Carlcy and his friends vouch for
his care. Mr. Wilkes also caves
nuke up the
i surprising
proof-sheet.
ohn Robinson holding the manuscript.
Everything was all right, hot when
Amos went up-etairs to make up the
editorial page he found a
mark on the revised
Greeley had referred to "Sv'mes’ Hole"
in his article, and Smalley, who had
never heard of “Symes’ Hole,” had
knocked out the word “Symi
marked in “Holmes’ Hole."
went down-stairs and expostulated with
him, bat Yale College was not to be
enlightened by a boy who had gained
education in a printing office. “l am
managing editor here, and am respon
sible, said Smalley, in a freezing tone,
entting short all explanations, and
Holmes’ Hole”’it remained. HoreOe
walked up to Amos’ desk at 6 p. m. on
the following day, saying in a piping
tone: “Did yon read my revise last
nightP” “I did,” was the reply.
“Well,” said the great editor, throw
ing his hat on the floor, “you’re a d—d
blockhead.” The night editor pro
duced the proof-sheet, with the altera
tion in Smalley’s handwriting, and told
his story. Horace stood like one dazed.
“Well, Amos,” he finally blurted, “I
want you to understand from this time
forward that I’ll never allow any d—d
sandy-haired Yankee to alter my edi
torials. ’ ’ Smalley was quickly relieved,
and never again filled the managing
editor’s chair.—N. T. World.
A Safe Dropped Four Stories.
inly I
—Er
Sudden!
dow sill
strains and swellings in the same way.
application.
e explains the matter on the princi
ple of animal electricity, which be tup-
poses that the snake possesses. If a
cure is effected in this way the writer
thinks that the pain is frightened oat
of the patient by thehorridac
Danbury (Conn.) News.
* * 1 *
* A flower has been discovered in Sooth
?America wbteh is only visible when tho
wind is blowing. Tne shrub belongs
to the emetofl family, and is about throe
high, with n arodk at tho top,
tt tae appearance at a blaec
vw JEMfi um
the workman on the win-
rnest Sanger was his name
—gave a piercing and agonizing shriek
that startled all who hMtzd it, and ar
rested the footsteps even of the busy
merchants and brokers who had not
troubled themselves to Jook at anything
so commonplace as a safh hoisting feat.
A single glance at the writhing form o!
,the workman, who groaned and
screamed with pain, was enough to
show what had happened. Sanger had
taken hold of the pulley to swing the
safe, and his fingers had been caught
in the rope and bad been drawn Into
the sheaves of the block. His tollow-
workmen understood the sitostkin at a
glance. They knew that to turn the
winch, either hoist or to lower the
safe, might result in crushing the poor
fellow’s hand into a pulp. There was
only one thing to do—the - ropes must
be cut and the safe allowed to drop to
the sidewalk.
As quickly as possible the sidewalks
on both sides of the street and the
roadway also were cleared of pedes
trians and vehicles. Two stout fsRows
lay out uoon the sill and held the bodty
of their suffering comrade so
would not be carried down with
safe. Then the ropes
severed close to tbs “
hand was released sad he was
half fainting into the i
to a surgeon's.
The % safe
not dull; he
forward; Ae!
wars of silty,
A gentleman whs 1
deal of stody toths
while
bet of
eity In the oonatty.
paupers to the
A New Haven
new kind of i
toned around
itself, and tt is expected
whole affair, inolc ‘
down safely if any
the balloon.
StathMns show Mat
tors the number of
ranges between
At this rath the
nnally among the 20,000 aMBttd
of this oouatey would h% ea aa
sge, i,wa
Mr. Case, a watchmaker of
Pa., has completed -a *
tender six ioohae long
.Sadis'
New Orleans exhlbittoa.
Last summer a
man dug oot a sand crab on
shore, which he took hmph
his cellar. Up to data he
. %
1 Vi
breath, had wheuAe* gp
tad bi&
mght 112
rsath, Mk
they are nipped and
arrives.
Most of tha ie#
now
years It#a0'
can be mads sb ameb
has driven the Boston km ewMt'