Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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THE BEAUFORT TRIBUNE AND PORT ROYAL COMMERCIAL. "VOL. V. NO. 23. BEAUFORT, S. C., THURSDAY, MAY 10, 1877. WO Itr In Ink COM i Celts. Slimmer Idyl. Meadow flowers, fair and sweet, Can you feel the summer ? Can you feel her dainty fee", c Coming softly, light and fleet? Will ye not outrun her? Spring up, anemone. Graceful as court lady; j King, ye hare bells, merrily. Hyacinths stand cheerily, ( She will greet you, may be. Blushing red, rose campion fair. j 1 Like a rustic beauty, J Hides behind the maiden hair, While veronica, the rare, , Opes blue eyes from duty. | i She is coming, is our queen, j Softest breeze shall waft her: Palmy boughs of freshest green ] Wave where'er her robe is seen ; < Li tie brooks bring laughter. i i Every joyous scent and sound j ( Rises swift to greet her; E'en the dull, insensate ground t Shares the fragrance all around, ; ( Let us go and meet her! j i i? VELORE VERE. f A dazzle of golden hair, the gleam of ' eyefc" heavenly blue, sweeping lengths of j pale, lustrous silk, and a smile that w as the Very radiance of all beauty; this is what t ? illuminated, for an instant, the dark old * ?. i .-l ?i.i i ; Dan 01 me llUiei m nwmuiu. x uuuicun j . touched Sloewick's arm, and the vision^ passed. " It is Miss Vere," he said. ^ 44 And is she stopping here ?" I " They caine in the stage this morning? Miss Vere anther father." 1 took a turn upon the piazza and came c back again. I " Why does a woman like that come here, 1 Sloe wick?" " It's quiet, health7, and out of the way of all excitement. The old gentleman has ^ been ill, and"Miss Velore is devoted to her v father." !l -"'You know them, then?" " Not much now-a-days. VjLi used to go ? hi dancing school together when we were c children." 1 "Sloewick," I exclaimed, " you don't say 1 you are a dancing man 1" <" "Not eminently," he replied, with a <J suiile and a frown. He didn't look like it, certainly, with his r gloomy black eyes, his neglected black S 'hair, and his rusty dress. I had been told t at the commencement of my acquaintance with Sloewick that he used to be a great 11 b?au, but since my association with him he <1 h.td been so taciturn, unchivalrous, and negligent of his toilet, that I had quite for- <] gotten the rtlmor. At sunset that evening, Miss Vere sat on the piazza with her father. Sloewick gave me an introduction, and went away. 1 v wondered at his declining the seat she * kindly offered him, yet he looked very ^ shabby and uninviting in aspect, going 1 away through the trees. * " Poor fellow," I thought, " something has happened to mar his fortunes. Miss ^ Vere looks after him with a glance of per- ? c plexitv. I presume she used to find him ' .agreeable. Well, let him keep his secret. .He has trouble enough, I dare say. It must 1 be mortification that gives him such savagej a mooas. And so I dismissed the subject, and turned to Miss Vere's sapphire eyes. ? "We will stay all summer, if papa's ' . health improves," she said. Her father was fond of her. She seemed 1 the light of his life. She read to him, sang .to him, walked with him, drove with him. s At table she prepared his food, while he 1 waited like a child. She arranged his c diet, superintended his toilet, tyrannized a over him with a fairy willfulness that was c yet beautiful and tender. a ^ ' Like all other men, I loved her. Like all 11 w womanly women, she was kind to me. She did not coquette with me. She neither ? scorned nor encouraged me. She thought ^ that bv-and-bye I would understand that it d was impossible. ^ We were walking in the fields one evening, Mr. Vere, his daughter and I. The 3 sun was going down, and cast red shadows ^ on the river, the little brown boats rocking z on its bosom, the children playing on its banks and among tne trees. i t ^ "Now, papa," said Velore,"isn't this a ; s thousand times nicer than Long Branch ?" ; r Her father smiled and nodded?satisfied I with anything that pleased her. \ s " It is so pleasant, papa," she continued, i " that I think Helen had better come up t for her vacation." f " Very well, my dear." i " Helen," said beautiful Velore, turning s to me; * is my little adopted sister. She is r sixteen* now, but a little thing?a mere child?and is yet at school. She will like r Westwold, I know." ! e " I hope she will come, then/' I said; but : I wondered* a little uneasily, how her ap- i i?earance would affect my relations with ( Velore. Would she devote herself to the ' invalid, leaving Velore more o]?en to my i attentions ? or would she appropriate her < to my exclusion" ? l "There!? exclaimed Velore, suddenly. ; ; " I see a white azalia in flower." And before I could anticipate the movement she ; ( had fled across the road and plunged to the s recesses of the dark wood there. j " Shall I stay with you, Mr. Vere, or had s I best follow her?" I asked, turning to the . s aged man at my side. . ! < "I think she had rather you would re- < main with me," he answered, glancing nervously at a heavv country wagon that was i then approaching the bridge. " She will ] take care of herself; but go, if you like." | < r "No," I said, giving him the support of ; my arm, as the wagon thundered over. ' "She is coming back already," I added, as i the dust reli, and snowed v eiore, in ner pic- ; turesque dress, emerging from the twinkling birch shrubbery. She came up?pale, agi- : tated, distrait. ! " Velore, what Is the matter ?' asked her < father. " Has anything hap|>ened to alarm you, Miss Yere ?" I questioned, hurriedly. u I am not frightened," she answered, i hastily drawing her father's hand within her arm. " Come, we must go. It is get- j ting far too late for you to be out, dear papa." " And you did not get your 8zalia," he said. < " No," she replied ; " buk never mind. I can get it another time." Mentally making a note of the spot, I resolved to see her safely home with her father, and then return for the flowers. The moon was in the right quarter to come up brilliantly at eight o'clock. I could gather the large white clusters of bloom easily by its light. As we came in sight of the hotel, Velore ^ said in a thoughtful tone: i " Mr. Derford, how long have you known Mr. Sloewick ?" "Only since last spring," I answered. She was silent for a moment, then she :aid : " He seeins to me to have grown very singular." "Others have remarked it," T replied, ' but I have made his acquaintance so lately "? She interrupted me with a slightly exited manner. " He used to l>e a gay, frank fellow. He ? "r?i i s A i ji .s like?he is like' ? .">ne nesnaiea, men included with a gesture of abhorrence? 4 a ghoul I looked at her with surprise. She said 10 more. She was silent until she reached he hotel. Then going with her father to heir rooms, she bade me good night in her lsual manner. When she had gone, I turned instantly jack toward the bridge. The moon was xmiing up round and lull. The air blew 1 n my face dense and dewy. I walked rapdly up to the road, and hurriedly entered he wood. The light fell in broken patches through he branches upon the shrubs of flowering { lusters, delic'ously fragrant in 4he dew. ; \s I rapidly broke the brittle stems I start- , ;d at sound of bushes crackling behind me. rurning I saw the dark figure of a man gliding oft'through the trees. " Some poor tramp taking a night's rest j lere. 1 have disturbed him," I thought, j dy hands were already full of the lavish ' doom, and I turned away. , The next morning I presented the flowers o Velore. " What! Did you get them there?" was ler first exclamation. 44 Yes, 1 went back last night." "How kind and thoughtful of you. But, i dr. Derford, did you pec no one ?" " No ; all was as quiet and beautiful as ' i pcene of enchantment. Yes," I interrupt- j d myself. " An old straggler stole off i lirough the bushes as I was gathering the J lowers." I saw her shudder as she turned away. | Four days later little Helen Vere came, j ?he was a petite thing, but very pretty, kith a torrent of bronze-brown curls that j 11 most enveloped her dainty figure. 1 could not but notice that at this time : doewick was k> moody as to be almost univil. And he peemed to regard me with a urtive dislike?I who had always wished o be his friend?that made me most unomfortable. 1 had no feeling for him but >ne of pity. I thought him ailing, unlappy. I would have rendered him any elief in my power. So I said to Yelore. ihe turned very pale, appeared about to ell me something, but stopped. " Did you ever think," she said, after a I uoment,*"that he might not be quite? J [uitesane?" I "No indeed!" I answered. "Oh, that is { [uite impossible." She heard me eagerly. " I am glad you think so," she said. At dinner she was missing. Mr. Yere j ras petulant. "Where could Yelore be? le would not dine without her." But lelen and I coaxed him to his place at able, and she did her best to take her sis-' er's place. It was strange what had become of her. Angularly enough she had gone to walk done at about eleven o'clock during the orenoon. Making only a feint of dinner, yet doing hat that old Mr. Yere might not have his mxiety increased by perceiving mine, I j et forth to find her. It was five o'clock in the afternoon. The j un was gliding toward the west. Yelore , tad been gone nearly all day. As time , h ** ?? t A li o va q t oi f j KlWCUj llUi aifiiuitc wgaii IV M WA ng significance. "Keep Mr. Yere quiet, if possible," I aid to Helen, who showed a womanly com>osure I had hardly expected under the ircumstances. But there was a strained, ibsent look in her eyes that filled me with ompassion. "I will get out some men, nd scour the whole neighborhood before lightfail. She will surely be found." But it was nearly dark before 1 could et efficient help. About seven o'clock, j lowever, three men rode away in different j lirections, while I took the road to the ridge on foot. A thunder storm was coming up; it was dniost dark. The lightning that cleft the leavy purple of the sky was sharp and zigag ' I had nearly reached the bridge. The hunder clouds gathered so thickly in the kv that almost entire darkness enveloj>ed ; ne. I hurried on, but stopped upon the i ridge, with a hand on the railing. In ; pite of the rattle of the now fast descend- i ng rain, I could hear the soft gliding of lie water that I could hardly see, and I ancied there was an ominous significance n that almost inaudible flow. I listened, I huddering a: the loneliness, and straining ' uy irowning gaze into the black tide. A savage clutch?fast, furious blows I aining uj>on my defenseless h ead, into my j yes, upon my gasping mouth! I was down, ; ind beaten blind and deaf l>efore I could j nake a stroke of resistance, so powerful and j iverwhelming was the attack. I can seem to see what 1 never knew? ny enemy raising mv passive body, and ! casting it over the railing of the bridge into : lie water, the lightning playing over us, | ind the solitude of nature around. I came to my senses making half effectual I ?fforts to swim. Having l>een an adept at ' ;wimming from a child, I think it was j ilmost impossible to drown me, bait dead : is I was. I paddled about in a half-unconscious state for a while. At last, my senses deal ing, I realized my situation, and struck mt collectedly, but feebly, for the bank. When I crawled up the grassy slope 1 put nv hand to my temples, which felt strangely, and found them slimy with mv own warm clotting blood. I stood for a while unable to tell which way to go, and still somewhat dazed. I did not even have the thought to fear the reappearance of my enemy. I only felt desperately the need of a place of rest and refuge, and unable to tell my location, stumbled blindly and dizzily about in the dark until a stroke of lightning showed me a winding path in the hillside leading to a road above. I pulled myself up by the bushes, and by nervous excitement and sheer force of will, 1 worked my way back to the hotel. I staggfredupto the door, pushed it open into the hall, and my first words were?had they found Yelore ? The group who stood there talking cried out and recoiled. My face was like a horrible mask, literally covered with my blood. My clothing was wet, muddied and torn, and they told me afterward that my eyes glared like a wild man's. I was very much excited, for I was in the first stages of brain disorder, and wandered restlessly about the rooms; but I recollect seeing Helen weeping and t>eseeching them to take care of me. A. 1 is as a dream from that time, but 1 was put to bed, and a physician >ent for. ~ j I Not until I was entirely recovered, and i able to leave my room, and then they were ; forced to it, did they tell me that the*body ! of beautiful Yelore Vere had been found in the woods, near the bridge, utterly without i life; and, when examined, discolored marks about the throat showed that she had been strangled to death. i . ! This was six weeks later. The body had been taken to the Vere burial place, but j ' her betrothed, a noble gentleman, the servants said, had come down to Westwohl i and taken charge of everything, though |1 greatly racked with grief. Mr. Vere had j been taken home very ill, and Helen had, ; of course, gone also. ir_ i j i i i. i . i * ! iuy love ciream nau uuiieu jiuu a nurn- ; ble nightmare, and ended in an awful reality. 11 A year passed. As was natural, the first j j sharp shock of this most painful experience : had worn off'. More immediate occurrences , i occupied my thoughts, but I could never re-1 ] call that fatal time without a shudder. j i One night, at a sacred concert, I saw the < face of Helen Yere. It was more beautiful ! ] than ever, matured by the chastening in- , ffuence of suffering. She was dressed in ] deep mourning, ana by her side sat a man < of peculiar elegance and dignity. ] As I watched Helen Yere asharpjeal- j ousv of her companion's attentions stole , over me. There seemed between them, to i my attentive eyes, the familiarity of a close j sympathy. I saw her slip her little black ^ gloved hand within his; 1 observed when , she grew weary that he supported her. When the concert was ended T hastened j to nnnroaeh them. Helen seemed startled , ~ t 4 " " - . and agitated by mv appearance, but gave i 1 me her hand and introduced me to Mr. M Alfred Sutton. A few words aside inform- { ed me that this was Yelore's betrothed. j ] She urged me to visit her. I did so. * Her father was dead. She lived in her j 1 beautiful house alone. IIow greatly she j had changed from the gay little schoolgirl j < of hardly more than a year back ! She had t lost all the abandon of girlhood, even the , i bloom, hut she was very lovely, and as I , ] watched her a new pang of jealousy of Mr. i j Alfred Sutton rose in my breast. ' { But in a little while I understood her j better. Her feeling for her sister's betroth- , ed husband was only sisterly ; his love for !1 her only brotherly. Carefully, tenderly I j sought and won her. | Six months after our marriage a gentle- ^ man came in a carriage to my house, and asked to see me alone. I conducted him to t j the library, and closed the door. He was a man of polished address, and j ] evidently of strong character. He intro- 1 duced himself as l)r. Yaux of the private f insane asylum at Hillside. At this an- * nouncement 1 felt a slight consternation i and bewilderment, that 1 think was appa- j \ rent in my manner. ! 3 " About a year ago," said he, after some ! ] preliminaries, "I received a patient whose j s name may not be unknown to you?Mr. 1 t (ieorge Sloewick." \ i "Good Heavens!" I cried. ( " You know him ?" j < " I have known him very well." \ "Yes. He was placed in my care by his i { father; pronounced insane by his family j j physician. I have given his case the best ; , care and particular attention, but he is in- j j curable. At present his physical strength | j is fast failing; in short, I tear he is dving. , I>... __ >:r~ ?....,1 i ! ' J>11L as Hit; liJJls least)!! ICIUIII.-, mm . row consider his state perfectly natural, and his reason lucid, I feel required to : treat his wishes with indulgence. He de- , f sires to see you, and 1 have come for you." | f 1 rose and began looking for my hat. j { When a servant had brought it, I followed 5 Dr. Yaux to his carriage. ] I 1 I was too confused to observe what course j J we took. 1 only realized, with a sudden 1 thrill, that we stopped at last before the { portals of jhe asylum. My companion : ] gave me some refreshment, for 1 was, I con- < fess, very nervous, and then I followed him , < through several light, pleasant corridors to ( the door. j | " Is he quite prepared to see me ?" 1 ; { asked. I \ " He is waiting," was the reply. I was ushered into a chamber of mod- ! erate size. The light was subdued. A j woman stood at the side of a bed fanning ; the ghastly face among the pillows. The ] head was shaven, the cheeks deeply fallen ; 5 I never should have known George Sloe- 1 wick, not even by his voice. j 1 " Come close," he said, in a strained whis- ; < per, motioning me to the bedside. ! < Dr. Yaux placed a chair for me, and | i stood with a hand upon my shoulder. I 1 "I can talk only a moment," said Sloe- I ] wick, with a painful effort. " I killed her ! ?I killed Yelore Yere. You see 1 had j money hid there under a chestnut tree, all j ^ the money J could get. My dog saw mc i bury it. He was a sagacious brute. He I * dug it up, and I killed him for it. I was I ' burying him near the sj>ot, and I was all ] marked with his blood, you know, when she , 1 came and saw me. I thought she saw all, ! for there lay the bags of money as the dog ; < had pawed them out of the dirt. It was all ! j the hiding place I had; 1 thought she j would tell, and I. determined to kill her. ( Perhaps, after all, she did not see the i . money; I don't know; but I pretended sick ; ^ the next day, and told her that I was in great trouble, and wanted to talk with her. J She promised to meet me near the bridge. ] She came. I strangled her. Then I hid all J day in the woods. At night I heard you 1 calling her. I stole out, and tried to kill '> you too; I thought I had. Then I ran J' away and got safe to the city. No one ever suspected me. u Ymi I'm Hvincr now. Don't let anv 1 * v" ?o ? * j innocent man suffer for what I did. The 1 money is there now under the chestnut tree. You will know it, because it is splashed j with Sultan's blood." i He stopj?ed here. He evidently wished to say more, but was unable. The doctor , i started forward and raised him to a sitting j | position. "When he 1 id him down he was | j dead. As Sloewick had said, the money?some ! ! five thousand dollars?was found; but no | ' one appropriated it, and it was donated to a charitable institution. A Curions Fish. A very curious fish was taken by some fishermen in Long Island sound. In general appearance it resembles a small sea serpent. It has a long, graceful, j slender body, compressed and scaleless. The head has a savage bull dog front. , In color it is a reddish brown, with still ! darker reddish blotches forming two j longitudinal series on the sides. The : ; dorsal fin extends the entire length of , the body, and at intervals is marked , : with fiery red spots, which when the ' creature moves its fin assume bright j colors. The mouth opens obliquely, and even the vomer and palatines are covered with sharp teeth. The New York aqua; rium has secured this monstrosity, and it disports itself in a tank in that iustitu I tion. FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD. Potato Fertilizers. A correspondent of the New York Tribune writes as follows : "Having boys enough to fight bugs, I am anxious to plant quite a large piece to potatoes this year, and should like the experience of potato growers on the following questions: I want to manure in the hill, and wish to use unleached j ashes, night soil and barnyard manure, j Now at what stage is it best to use the ' ashes, and how are they applied?a pint j ( as that is about the quantity I desire to ; ? i ii , J V i use to tlie lllll f on tne been unci xmving | been dropped, or on top of the ground i after planting, or on the tops of the j potatoes when they are three or four j inches high ? The same questions exactly in regard to night soil and barnyard manure. I can get plenty of night soil in the village, and am not afraid to han.Ue it, as I have drawn tons of it on the roots of- my apple trees. I can get plenty if unleaclied wood ashes at eight cents per bushel, and barnyard manure at fifty 1 :euts per load; night soil of course costs i Liotliing but the drawing, and plenty of it to be had at that. I draw it in a tight wagon box, use a dipper similar to that j used in a potash manufactory, a long- i handled shovel, or short shovel, accord- I ing to the consistency of the goods to he handled. Soil a clay loam. Please ive me some practical plan for a large ield. Have read about the Minnesota nan who used a peck of unleached ashes ;o the hill of potatoes, and although he jave us a column or two of reading in regard to how many bushels he got from i pound of seed, he did not tell us how he applied his fertilizer." Your correspondent will find ashes ! ixcellent for potatoes, but if he plants, ! is I do, two feet nine inches apart each ; way, his "pint to a hill" will require liuety bushels to the acre. When I have j ipplied that amount I drove the load i icross the field, and had two men throw- ! ng it out broadcast from each side of the wagon. But a good handful to the hill j will take ten or twelve bushels. In ap- j plying ashes or hen manure, or any such , special fertilizer, I would furrow out one j furrow with a shovel-plow, three or four nches deep, drop manure in it, let a man follow with a potato hook and mix it up with the soil and brush a little soil upon t, another man drop on the seed and | itep upon it, and another come after and xrver spot down. Another good way, md easier done, is to drop the fertilizer in the hill just as the plants are break- i iig through, then cover with shovel-1 plow, as in my potato management. But i is a " practical plan for a large field," I ihould compost the horse manure and 1 light soil by putting down first a layer if manure, then one of night soil, next me of muck or coal ashes, tind continue hese alternate courses for all the heap, ind would be sure to sprinkle on a few aushels of plaster to each course ; then when it was in good heat pitch it over, nixing it well, and after it got to heatng again would draw and spread from :lie wagon upon plowed land, then cultirate and drag in well. This I should think the most practical way of using such manures where they can be obtained >o easily and cheaply as he reports. In mswer to an Illinois inquirer, I would j >ay that in potatoes for market I have j realized the best returns from Peerless. ! [ do not know about '4 charcoal for pota-1 toes," but would use ashes instead, a ?ood handful on top of the hill after 1 planting, and as soon as they begin to | ?ome up cover ashes and hill with fresh j jarth. This requires about ten bushels | ff ashes to the acre. Seed potatoes cut j to two or three eyes requires about j seven bushels Early Rose and nine or ten bushels Peerless.?llenri/ Ives, in Xcw York Tribune. Domestic Hints. Rice Cakes.?Boil one-half pound of rice very soft; let it get nearly cold, then ! itir in it one-half pound butter warmed, ; :wo teaspoonfuls salt, and two of sugar; oeat into this five tablespoonfuls con lensed eggs, adding one pound of flour sifted, in which you have put two spoon- j tills baking powder; make into a stiff batter with milk, and bake in waffle irons, tnuffin rings or in cakes on the gridle. Seed Cake.?One pound flour, onehalf pound sugar, one-half pound butter, one cup oiilk, two tablespoonfuls i ground ginger, two papers caraway seeds, ! me tenspoonful baking powder; mold rather stiff and roll out as thin as ginger maps. To Clean Mats and Tidies Crocheted with Yarn. ?Lay in cold water for fifteen minutes, then nib plenty of white castile soap on them; then rinse in dean suds; hang up in the sun, and when nearly dry dress on underside, and they will look as good as new. English Puffs.?Two quarts flour; nib in little shortening; one pint milk, hiilf /?n-nfnl vpn,st lmK cunfuL suetar: set i spoilge for several hours; then knead and roll half an inch thick, and cut with tumbler. A New Cement. A new cement for glassware has been : discovered, which is said to have the J quality of being unaffected by boiling water. It is also free from another ob- ; jectionable feature of china and glass ! cements, as it does not disfigure by a dark line along the junction. The method of making this cement (which must be used when fresh), is to add to five parts of a solution of gelatine, one part of a solution of acid eliminate of lime. The articles, after the broken surfaces have ; been united with this cement, must be exposed to strong sunlight for a few hours; and meanwhile should be held in the proper position under considerable pressure from a wire or a string. A fracture thus repaired in glassware is said to be hardly perceptible. SitfrfffKtinun. Grow those crops you know best how to grow, adapted to your soil, location, markets and means, grow them every year, be the price high or low, study them so as to grow good crops when others fail, until you can grow them profitably at prices at which others would starve. Does the dairyman ever suspect that some cows are dreadful loafers ? If flies happen to be particularly bad some cows will spend most of their time standing in the water. Some dairymen think the act of standing in the water absorbs the milk from cows. They little suspect it is simply the effect of loafing away her time. Interesting Torpedo Experiments. Some very interesting experiment* were made a few days ago at Cherbourg with the little submarine vessel called the Thorneycroft. It was the first occasion of testing in French waters whether a torpedo could be launched againLv a ship in full sail. Accordingly, Admiral Jaurez, who commands the squadron, ordered a disabled sliip, the Bayonnaise, during a rather rough sea, to be towed out by a steamer belonging to the navy. A second 9 lieutenant, M. Lemoinne, was sent for, and informed that he had linon calanfoil Tnnl'O thA PTHPri. vttli nV.IV/VlV.V* KV uitiiiv VM\/ VOW V*. ment of launching the Thorneycroft agninst the Bayonnaise while both were in full sail. He accepted the mission without hesitation, picked out two enginemen and a pilot and went down with them into the interior of the Thorneycroft, of which only a small part was above water, this visible portion being painted of a grayish color, so as to be easily confused with the sea. The torpedo was placed so as to project from the bow of the vessel, at the extremity of which were two lateen sailyards about three metres in length. The towing steamer then took up its position in front of the squadron, and the Thorneycroft also assumed the position assigned for it; an interval of three or four marine miles separating the torpedo and the Bayonnaise. On a signal being given, both were set in motion, the steamer advancing in a straight line, aud the Thorneycroft obliquely, so as to take the Bayonnaise in flank. The steaming went at fourteen knots an hour, going at full'speed in order to escape the Thorneycroft. The latter went at nineteen knots an hour, a rate not attained by any vessel in the squadron. The chase lasted about an hour, the squadron keeping in the rear so as to witness the operations. At the end of that time the distance between the Tliorneyeroft and the I3ayonnaise had sensibly diminished, and at a given moment the former, in order to eome Tip with the hitter at the requisite distance, had to slacken speed to eight knots an hour. The whole squadron watched this last phase of the struggle with breathless interest, and people asked themselves whether the shock of the torpedo would not infallibly destroy the little vessel that bore it. It was feared that the lives of the second lieutenant, Lemoinne, and his three companions were absolutely sacrificed. However, the two vessels got visibly nearer. All at once the Tliorneyeroft put on a last spurt, and struck the Bayonnaise with its whole force on the starboard bow. The sea was terribly agitated, a deafening report was heard, and the J3ayounaise, with a rent as big as a house, sunk with wonderful rapidity. As for the Tliorneyeroft, rebounding by the -1?-1* "'<""1 flffnmi motvn? tiff PVPII llP BliUUIW (lUUHl Jliu \.J| Jiiv * i. v w fore _ the explosion occurred, it went round and round for a few moments, and then quietly resumed the direction of the squadron. No trace remained of the Bayonnaise; it was literally swallowed up by the sea. A Chinese Story. Chu and wife lived with a nephew and wife in a house in Tung-hwuy. The uncle was a dyer and the nephew a tailor; their wives were congenial, and they all wore happy. Last spring the nephew died aud his wife vowed that she would be true to his memory and never marry again. In November Airs. Chu's mother died, and the dyer and his wife were compelled to go to Shaou-peh to attend the funeral and settle up the estate. As they did not wish to leave the beautiful young widow unprotected in the house, they asked an old neighbor to stay with her during their absence. Now there lived in the town a soldier named Cliao Tehshen, a bad man, who had been casting sheep's eyes at the widow. He armed himself with a dagger and about midnight jumped over the wall of the house, and entering the widow's room threatened to kill her. She replied by offering her throat to the dagger. Suddenly the door was kicked open and in burst a toll fellow who wrested the dagger from the ruffian's hnmk and threw liirn 011 the floor. The widow rushed out to arouse the superannuated neighbor, and the bad man was secured with a eoil of rope. Then the neighbors flocked in, and recognizing the soldier set to and hammered him. Tli en they turned to the widow's gallant defender and asked him who he was and how he had happened to be in the house. "My name if Ts'ao," said the tall stranger; "and I air a robber by trade. I was passing through tlfe town, and having no monej came into this house to steal something but finding this fellow here on a worse errand than mine I made him fast." The defende-r of innocence was a robber. Bui the neighbors thought so well of him that they raised a subscription and col lecteel enough money to set him up in ar honest traele. The bad man went te prison; the virtuous robber hasn't mar ried the widow yet. A New Era in Telegraphy. Professor Loomis. of Washington who has given to electricity and its use* much study and thought, says the tim< is not far distant when telegraphing wil be carried on by means of aerial cur rents, without the aid of wire or poles He has already, he says, communicate* with his assistant, who was twelve mile; away, by means of 011 aerial current The current was reached by flying kites a certain height at each point, the strinj used being a copper wire. When botl of the kites would be at the same alti tude and in the same current, he says h< has, by means of an instrument attachec : to the ground end of the wire, sent t< and received messages from his assist j ant, twelve miles away, there beinf nothing but an aerial connection be ; tween them. Professor Peters, in an ar tide on the telephone, written alter In j had witnessed its first performance j says : "The telephone of to-day prob I ably bears to the telephone of the futon ' about the same relation that Fulton's lit tie steamboat bore to the magnificen floating palaces that now ply 0:1 on lakes and rivers, or to those nobler em ; bodiiuents of human skill which have re ! duced the formidable Atlantic voyage o ; our grandparents to an average ten day' I trip!" LOVE OF THE HEROIC SORT. [ Pretty Jennie Rurdick and Her Riuutiau Lieutenant. . j The San Francisco Post tells the fol- J i lowing love story : Standing away back [ of the engine house at Hunter's dock is a pretty little two-story cottage, in j , wh ch Jesse A. Burdick, engineer and ^ , foreman of the dock, resided with his 1 ( j wife aud beautiful daughter Jennie. I "Seventeen rose buds all in a row" i .1 number her summers, and she is an only i daughter. From a quiet Michigan i home the family came here in NovemI ber last, and after a little while, being t skilled in his business, the father ob- f tained a position, and hoped to enjoy ( under his rustic roof tree in California \ as happy a home as he had left. j I With the beginning of the year came j the Russian ship-of-war Yasdnick, and ; with it came as lieutenant and paymaster ; ^ Georges de Kalands, a fine looking ' ^ j young man, with plenty of money, a | g 1 tongue made to woo women, and a care- a less abandon. The ship wanted re- j T pairs, and into Hunter's dock she went. 'e i It was not long before the gallant lien- . r tenant procured an introduction to Mr. Burdick, and through him to his wife t and daughter. The opportunity he im- ? proved. Time and again did he visit 1 the cottage, and into the ears of the ? daughter did he pour talcs of daring and' \ wild romance. When the father's suspicions were excited, he found opposi- * tion where formerly lie had found obedience. Thinking that no good could come of a marriage between his daughter r on/l ilio "Riihsi'.hi he forbade the I lntter the house, about a month ago, I * and hoped that all might yet be well ; I * but neither himself nor his wife dreamed ' * of the extent to which the affair had , ( gone. Miss Jennie Burdick sulked and j * I pouted, and Lieut, de Ealauds paced i j the Yasdnick's deck, which by this time e had gone up to Mare Island. For a r little time there was no communication e I between the lovers. However, on a re- n I cent Thursday, a ball, given by the c j oflicers of the Vasdnick, to which Mr. g Bnrkick and family were invited, brought 1 i the lovers once more together. 1 It was evident to Mr. Burdick from j what he saw at the party on the Vasdnick that there was more between Lieut, j { de Kalands and his young daughter than ( he had dreamed of. On Friday morn- j \ iug he took the girl to her mother and ; ! suddenly accused her of regarding the , ? young Russian with too favorable eyes. ' } Instead of denying the soft impeach- j ( | menfc, the girl boldly declared her in-! \ ; tentiou to marry de Kalands at the very j t j first opportunity, and added that they j understood each other thoroughly. Bur- . ' dick pere and mere were of course i i very much astonished. They told the j i girl that she had the alternative of giv; ing up her lover or undergoing a rigor- , ! ous confinement. She accepted the latj tor without hesitation, saying that at ; , the first opportunity she would escape and fly to her lover. Miss Jennie was ' escorted to her room and locked in, and ' all her clothing carefully packed away in 1 her mother's trunk, with the exception of J a calico dress and a shawl. Deeming their daughter thus secure, 1 Mr. and Mi's. Burdick calmly awaited * the time when tho Russian fleet would ! j sail away and carry off the object of her J | affections. But the lovers, debarred ; from personal intercourse, found means ' to communicate with each other through ; i a male friend. It was no secret to this | yoimg man that the girl was locked up ; * in her room. It is supposed that de i ! Kalands liberally bribed him to carry j 1 notes to the young lady, and that through 1 ; him the elopemeut was planned. The 1 house of the Burdieks stands b&ck a J Bhort distance from the road leading into j ] the Potrero. The room occupied by Miss t Jennie is about twelve feet from the I < ground, and the presumption is that the i , go-between, after nightfall, took the j notes from de Kalands, who is supposed j i | to have been in the vicinity, and attach-; j ing a small stone to them, threw them j into the open window to the girl. This j < is the only way in which any communi- j j , j cation could take place between them, ; , for the girl had been locked in her room i ; since Friday. I ] I Nothing occurred to disturb the se- 1 j , renity of the family until last evening [ about seven o'clock, when Mr. Burdiek :, J heard an unusual uoise in Miss Jennie's , room. He wjis sitting in the dining- , . room, which is immediately under the j ] girl's apartment. The thought struck j j , him that perhaps she was attempting to ! j t escape. He went out on the front steps, | I and was astonished to see his daughter 1 ( . fleeing down the road, hatlessand shawl- , t less." A glance told the story. Her win- i | r i dow was open, and standing in the read , 1 was a top buggy and horse. He dashed . into the house for his revolver, and ! I reached the road in time to see his I ? daughter seized by the strong arms of ; the young lieutenant and lifted into the i 1 , buggy. The indignant father followed ( the fugitives, discharging his revolver as "* 1 1 1 - -1?..L i,' 4-1 % a Kn rrrrxr ^ ! 1)G W6Dlj Dili in U BliUi t tunc tuvj wu65?' j >! vanished in the gathering gloom, and |! . | Mr. Burdick gave up the chase and re- (J j turned sadly to his home. The girl . had jumped out of the window, under ! which her lover had been evidently , waiting for her in true knightly fashion, , and in her hurry had dropped her shawl ' The outraged father called at the po, lice station and related the circumstances, i desiring the assistance of the police to recover his erring daughter. He had not the faintest idea as to where the j eloping couple had gone. . The Opium Eater. 1 | *; A resident of Knightstown, Ind., after 1! eating opium for ten years, wandered -! into a hotel in New Orleans a week ago 0 yesterday, and committed suicide by 1 boring a hole in his neck with a penknife > and cutting the jugular, vein with a pair - of surgeon's scissors. The confessions ^ of this opium eater have a terrible signi ticance; "God only knows how I have - fought this terrible habit, but whenever 3 it gets hold of the system it is too late. " * -1 L , God pity the opium eater i Am annual i - past going now. The opium habit was e contracted more than ten years ago, | - though not confirmed until about eight j t j years since. I tlieu began to fight it p r with the desperation that almost crazed - ; rae, and when nearly well would liecome - j discouraged and go back again. No man f i had a dearer wife and family than T had H ; ?a better wife and children. I cannot ? recall my life," ' Items of Interest. A Texas stockman recently eold to parties in southwestern Kansas 40,000 head if cattle and 2,000 horses for $140,000 in silver. Even if a boy is always whistling " I ivant to be an angel," it is just as well to seep the preserved pears on the top shelf if the pantry. Georgia paid last year $3,500,000 for naterial to fertilize Iier lands, and the iverage product of her cotton per acre is eported as a little less than 250 per cent. Th*> .Tamnese are advancing in civiliza # "*" " 1 V/ jon. They usually favor condemned elons with the choice of the mode of leath. An interesting murderer having >een recently asked how he would like to >e executed, promptly replied: "By )roxy." Lord Beaconsfield said a neat thing to h^Chinese ambassador when he received hat functionary lately. "May you," aid the English statesman, "find it greeable to remain in our country until oil have taught me Chinese." The uvoy of the sun and moon was much leased. It now comes to light that the refusal f the German government to take part * a the Paris Exhibition of 1878 is intendd, not as a sign of hostility to Eranoe, ?ut as a snub and chastisement for the lerman artists and manufacturers who aade such a discreditable show at Phila[elphia. Punch''8 idea of a treaty is "An interlational agreement between two or more >owers, which each and all of the contractig parties will punctually fulfill when he time comes for doing so, unless they iud that the safest and most advantageous 'ourse is to back out of it, in which case hey are free to back accordingly." Beaver hunters in California live in irks or floating houses, in which they nove from place to place on the streams md ponds. The one small room on such i craft contains benches for several men, :ooking utensils, hunting articles and a itock of provisions. The hunters are a azy, card playing and careless lot, but * ? or?d mrtl/n hnftin^RS ~ u lYtJ CUIIilUIlUUJ v uuu UXUAC my. On March 11 the hamlet of Carol, in he Canton of Massat, Switzerland, was rovered by an avalanche of snow, which jroke loose from the heights of the Pares nountains. It was five in the morning, md the twenty inhabitants were still in >ed. Of these six escaped, and the orpses of nine were subsequently obiuned. Those of the rest had not been lug up at last accounts. Two policemen in San Francisco saw ;wo men pushing and pulling each other it a distance in the street, and commentHi on it between themselves as ough skylarking**/Then one of ;he men ran ; away, and the xther, approaching the officers, said: "You blamed fools, couldn't you see I vas getting robbed? That fellow has jone off with my watch." The selectmen of Boston, one hundred fears ago, leased the public lands and auildings at auction. The ordinance provided: "The premises to be so leased shall be set up at public auction or ?ale, by inch of candle, and that at the nstant in which the candle shall expire, ;he person last bidding the highest or the greatest annual rent for the same shall be declared the lessee of the same.' They had been married five months, md she was turning the leaves of a book; >he espied a pressed flower, part of a bouquet he had given her previous to wedlock, and said: " 'Tis but a little lower, but, oh, how fondly dear!'" "I diould think so," he growled; " that's a representative of a half-guinea bouquet, md to buy it I walked into town and leprived myself of luncheon for a week." The vessels which passed through the Isthmus of Suez in 1876 numbered 1,395, ind measured 1,986,698 tons. In 1875 there were 1,411, measuring 1,908,970 tons. Of the vessels of 1876, England was represented by a tonnage of 1,510,198, igainst 476,500 supplied by other nations. France followed at a long distance, with 135,345 tons; Holland had 101,031 tons; Italy, 60,998;Austria, 27,281; and llussia but 16,627 tons. The residents in an old-fashioned twostory house at Hampton, N. H., on arising one morning this winter, found the snow up to the eaves of the house, and bad to take up the boards from a chamber floor and lay them down on the snow to the barn, and then they had to take some boards from the roof of the barn and flimb down to feed the cattle. The sheep were buried under the snow for twenty-one days, and were then got out alive. >"aval Warfare. In the long contest for supremacy be tween heavy artillery ana armuxvu vessels, the attack lias in perioral kept the lead of the defense. But there may be greater dangers for the navies of the future than even the projectiles of eighty-one-ton guns. The British admiralty has recently been considering with favor a rocket float. This is a small vessel which is propelled by a rocket along the surface of the water, at a speed of 275 miles per hour and to a distance of four miles. In the bow of this vessel there is a quantity of gun-cotton arranged with a percussion cap, zo as to explode upon striking an obstacle. If one of these rocket floats were started and accurately directed toward a ship at a distance there is a clear certainty that it would arrive before the ship could be moved out of range. The charge of gun cotton could easily be made snilicient to sink, on explosion, any ship that can be built. The admiralty are also takiDg an interest in a new torpedo which travels under water at twenty miles per hour. An Arithmetical Genius. Mr. John N. Outwater, of Jersey City, New Jersey, the Erie railway expert, known as the lightning calculator, litis for a protege a little boy of Hebrew parentage, who can successfully solve the most difficult problems without marking down a figure, seeming to impress each figure or combination of figures on his mind as they are given, out. The boy is deformed, standing only thirty inches, and when Mr. Outwater found him he was selling matches' jn New York.