THE BEAUFORT TRIBUNE
AND PORT ROYAL COMMERCIAL. '
VOL. V. NO. 24. BEAUFORT, S. C., THURSDAY, MAY 17, 1877. SMI I? lira Siuii Cow S Dull
Only*
Only a seed?but it chanced to fall
In a little cleft of a city wall,
And taking root, grew bravely up,
Till a tiny blossom crowned its top.
%
Only a flower?but it chanced that day
That a burdened heart passed by that way;
And the message that through the lower was
sent,
Brought the weary soul a sweet content.
For it spake of the lilies so wond'rousjy clad;
And the heart that was tired grew strangely !
glad
At the thought of a tender care OTer alL
That noted even a sparrow's fall.
Only a thought?but 'Jie work it wrought
hAvAv V?tt t/moni nr nan Ha lanrrHt .
WUiU UVfW 9VUQUV V> JJ/V- VV ?p ?W I
For it ran through a life, like a thread of gold; I
And the life bore ftru;t?a hundred fold.
f
Only a word?but 'twas spoken in love,
With a whispered pnyer to the Lord above; j
And the angels in heaven rejoiced once more;
^ For a new born soul " entered in by the door." |
?Jessie Gordon.
TRUE TO HER WORD. !
i
Leonora Lonsdale's most partial friend
could not call her pretty. Her most imr>ar- ;
tial enemies?being possessed of mueh cleverness,
strength of character, and hatred of
shams it followed, she had a few?declared
her uglv.
For the benefit of those who have never
seen the young lady, and consequently belong
to neither one side nor the other, I will
describe her?beginning with the most
prominent feature of the human face.
No6e of no particular order, neither aqui- <
line, straight, pug, turned-up nor turned- |
down, but original ana inaepenaeni, ana
apparently in the right place; eyes brown
with a glint of topaz?a slight cast in th*
left one pronounced by the friendly ' bewitchinglv
cunning' and by the inimical :
4 decidedly impishmouth neither larg?nor
small, with full, red lips closing firmly I
over two rows of strong, white teeth ; complexion
neithef blonde nor brunette, but
clear and rosy and her own, and chin that i
only escaped being masculine by having a j
dimple in it.
Her head, heavy with a quantity of
straight, black hair, was wtll shaped 1
enough, and well set upon a slender neck,
that was again well set upon her sufficiently :
broad shoulders; her hands were small, but
the fingers did not taper; she was five feet
six inches in height, and looked as though
she might be taller if shechoee; had a clear, '
ringing laugh, a musical chest-voice, a
graceful walk; had opinions ol her own, j
and whistled like a bird.
And yet, notwithstanding her want of j
beauty?her many defects, 1 might say-*- j
there were men who had expressed a readiness
to die for Leonora at need, and more
^ who had declared themselves perfectly will^
ingto live for her.
There was a wonderful atmosphere of
freedom, of purity, of bravery about her.
And Leonora was a worker. Much as
she despised shams ana nypocrisies sne aespised
idleness.
'Daydreaming! I don't believe in it,'
she would say. 'Do your dreaming at
night and work during the dav;' and while
she talked, in a bright, cheerful way, each
word clear and distinct, she busi.y plied
her needle making'little dresses and jackets
and aprons. ' For whom V ' Ob, for some .
poor children around the corner. I had
nothing else to do.'
It was while thus occupied one afternoon, I
early in September, seated on the old-fash- j
ioned porch, shaded by a heavy grapevine, j
that Clifford Cameron sauntered in and j
threw himself in an easy chair beside her.
' Cliff.' had been a chum of Harry Lonsdale's
since early boyhood, and for just that
^0 period had alternately tried to teaze and
make love to Harry Lonsdale's sister.
He was a good looking, sweet tempered, ;
generous, lazy voung fellow, with no end of j
money. Grandfather had died and left him j
money?father had died and left him money ;
?uncle had died and left him money, and
lately an old great-aunt, whom he had never |
seen, had departed this life, away off in J
some obscure corner of the globe, and left I
him more money. He had very fair hair i
and big, very blue eyes, beautiful bands
and feet, was rather stout than slender,
short than tall?was one of those infatuated
men who thoaght the slight cast in Jxjonora's
lefi eye perfectly charming, and who
had said they would die of joy if she'd only, j
graciously permit them to devote the re- J
maioder of their lives to her.
' Well, Bee,' said he, taking up a small i
aprun ?iiu iciPUiiij oumcvui^ iu ?
4 Well, Butterfly,' was the reply,' what j
brings you back from Newport so soon ?'
'"kou.'
'Oh! you've come here to talk nonsense j
again,'says the young ladv, holding another ;
small apron beiore her, her head on one 1
side like a bird's, as she ponders on the ef- :
feet of a bow of green ribbon she has sewn
on the pocket.
' Right, as you always are, my darling.' i
' I'm not your darling, and I'll take that
apron if you're quite done with it.'
' Deuce take the apron, say I. Stop sew-!
ing I beg of you, Leo? it makes me quite
tired to look at veu.'
' Clifford!'
1 Iieonora!'
' Aren't you ashamed of yourself?'
* Don't think I am. Ought I to be?*
With decision?4 You should. Were I a
young man in good health, not maimed or j
crippled?blessed with the average quantity
and quality of brains '?
, 'Thanks!'
4 I'd do something besides lounging at watering
places in the summer, and club j
houses in the winter?something in the !
shape of work?yes, if five hundred uncles, !
on/1 onntc ' -
auu OJIUI auiti r?, auu
4 Couldn't any way in the world, thank
Heaven! my dear girl, have so many relations.'
1 Left me five hundred fortunes. And if
I fell in love with a girl, I'd prove to her
before I proposed marriage, that I, myself'?
4 Myself! Behold me!' quoted Cliff.
4 Could, if an emergency arose, and life
is full of them, support her, and that I was
not entirely dependent ripon the income
flowing in from the coffers filled by my ancestors.'
1 Bravo! Leo! You're a splendid fellow!
That last remark about the coffins of my
ancestors was extremely fine. I'd like to '
have any one, in the glow of my present ad- j
miration for you, dare to hint that you were i
the tiniest speck cross-eyed. He or she'd i
repent iu haste. But, most admirable ofj
your sex, what would you do if you were a
male fellow, so unfortunate as to know
^ Nothing useful, and wanted to propose to '
the girl you loved aud all the rest of it" !
4 I'd learn a trade if I han't talent enough
for* a profession.'
4 The average quantity and quality of j
brain is scarcely sufficient for a profession, ;
and I'm too old to be taken as an appren- j
tice. If I were not and could be converted t
in o a shoe-maker, or brick-layer?or?or
?plumber, I think I'd prefer being
a plumber, they only oine and look at j
things and go nway again, 1 couldn't give
you a house like this, where yuu could Bit :
on the porch with a peach tree in front of !
you and a nice grapevine over you, making J
clothes for horrid children around corners.'
4 Nonsense! I don't mean that.'
4 What do you mean then?' reaching up
and plucking a grape from a low-hanging
branch.
4 Cliff Cameron, you know what I msan as !
??a11 am T ' *\n/1 wtif clio nTnloina vitli
ncii am x. uv/j unu ouv vaj'imamv
great slowness and emphasis. 41 mean that
a man should be able to support the woman
he marries either bv his head or hands ;
whether he is ever obliged to or not. Go 1
away, you are putting me out of temper.'
4 Putting you out of temper ? You're ;
mistaken. 1 never saw your dimple so i
angelic in my life. But I say, Leo,' he continued
more seriously,4 if I prove to you
that on an emergency?that is, if you with i
your luxurious tastes and general extrava- I
gance should waste my substance in riotous i:
living after we were married?if I prove to [ i
you that in that case I should be willing <
and able to give you bread with an occa- i j
sional bit of butter?would you name the I ]
day?' ?
4 That emergency never could arise.' ! j
4 Well, imagine any emergency you j;
choose, only answer me. Would you name ,
the dav?' * i .
4 What dav ?' 1 ,
? T ?? j
ajtvuvi a v | .
4 Yes, I would.'
4 You would?fair and square now ?** ! '
4 I would. Isn't that enough T
4 Quite enough. But it must be an early | '
one.' j
'Must?'
4 Will, my blessed.'
' Yes.' J
Cliff Cameron arose deliberately, took 1
away the sewing, deftly converted it into a <
ball and tossed it up among the grapes,! j
made both small hands, little gold thimble i ]
and all, prisoners, and kissed her upon the j <
dimple, upon the left eye, and lastly upon ! :
the warm, red lips. 1
4 Mr. Cameron, this is premature," said j 1
she, her cheeks glowing like two pink roses, i i
'Not at all, Miss Lonsdale,you are mine, i
To-morrow I will take my place among the t
workers. It will be ahumbleone, but suffi- t
cient to prove to you that I am competent j
to earn the bread and butter of which 1 f
Irave spoken.' <
4 But Cliff'?dropping her eyes for the '
first time. j
4 Well, Leo'?clasping the bright face be- j
tween his hands, and making her raise them j ,
again. I
4 Are you sure-you know how you ad-i *
mire pretty women, and I'm not pretty.'
4 But you're good?and to me the love- 1
liest and sweetest girl in the whole world.' 1
' t?>a Tknw/liir aflnrnruxi tvn Hava t
^ , .
the dialogue on the back porch, Mis* Leo- *
nora Lonsdale, as she was wont on Thurs- j 1
day afternoons, being the executive ability j f
of some charitable society that met on that 1
day, stepped into- a somewhat crowded I
street car, looking neither to the right or c
left, but straight before her,- in her usual i
manner. * ?
Once seated, she abstracted her pocket- I
book from her satchel and took from it the n
inevitable five cents, when she became
aware of a hand stretched out toward her? c
a man's hand, a handsome hand, a familiar (
hand. Her eyes rested on it an instant and
then traveled up the arm to which it be- fi
longed until they met the face?half hidden
by a slouched, broad biimmed hat?of ,
the conductor, Cliff Cameron !
She demurely placed her fare in his hand ^
and. her enemies would have said, the cast ^
in her eye beams more impish than ever. J
' The day ?' said the oonductor in a low, !
tirm, business-like tone, not a gleam of in- !
telligence lighting up his big, blue eyes. \
4 Six months from date,' replied Leonora, I
in the same tone, as she dropped her pocket- j
hook back in her satchel. i
Goat Milk and Sleeve Milk. ;
. In the southern portion of Italy goat's j
inilk is very generally used by the poor- !
er classes, who cannot afford the milk of !
cows. This kind of milk is' frequently ,
required also by wealthy people, as it is j
said to be efficacious in the cure of vari- ,
ous diseases. Difficulties, however,
often attend even the procuring of goat's j
milk, although the venders drive the little
animals about from door to door, and !
deliver the article done up in its original
package. A case in point occurred
where a friend of the writer's, desiring
some goat's milk for his siek child, directed
that a goat should be driven up
each morning, three flights of stairs, and
be milked at his apartment door, in
orde* to be safe from fraud. !
One morning a member of his family i
stepped suddenly into the hall when the j
process of goat milking wis going on, 1
and her eye caught a glimpse of two i
streams of fluid gently flowing?one !
from the natural source and the other I
from a syringe partly hidden up the !
milkmaid's sleeve. It is hardly neces- ;
sary to add that one stream was milk and ;
o ^/-\1 K1 t? nnoliftr r\f tro_ 1
uic uvuvi a ivav? inu vjuuiibj v* t? ?r- j j
ter, both of which' were harmoniously j g
eommingling. ' T
? rj
The Shipment of Beef to Europe.
Nearly 1,000 head of cattle, or about i
750,000 pounds of beef, are now shipped j i
abroad each week. The dressed meat i s
exported is that of the iinest Western i c
corn fed cattle, which is said to be pref- j (
erable to that of the Texan cattle. One j f
of the principal results of the exports- <
tion of American beef to Europe has 1
been the reduction made there in the 1
cost of meat. The price of beef has 1
been lowered in England and Scotland i
during the past two years nearly twenty- ; t
five per cent. The average price of beef ;
in London in March, 1875, was eight,
pence (sixteen cents) per pound; in
March, 1876,seven pence (fourteen cents) ;
per pound; *in March, 1877, six to six y
and one-half pence (twelve to thirteen 1
cents) per pound. The prospects that 1
this branch of business will become , i
much more extensive are considered very i
encouraging by the prominent stock J
dealers of New York. Within a few ]
years, it is predicted, the vast grazing I
pastures of the West and Southwest will 1
furnish meat for the masses in Europe, 1
who are now unable to purchase it.
Persecution is not always injurious.
Rats have more enemies than anything ?
on the face of the earth, and yet rats are i
as plenty to day as they were in tl>e time
of the Rharaohe, j
THE GRAYES-CILLEY DUEL.
An IaterettliK Account of the ilectiutf.
The story of tlie Graves and Cilley !
duel which created so profound a sensation
in its day is now retold. Mr. Cilley
in tlio TImiBA nf liftil
spoken insultingly of the family of James '
\Vaston "Webb of the New York Courier l
and, Enquirer, anil Webb challenged I
him to mortal combat. Oilley refused j
to fight Webb, declaring that he was no j
gentleman. Graves, who was acting as '
We\>b's second, then gave the challenge S
in his own name, and it was accepted, j
Everything was arranged for the hostile I
meeting, the combat to take place in :
the early gray of the morning of the
next day, or certainly of the day after. ;
This Mr. Graves considered as a very ,
great, almost fatal, disadvantage to him, ,
for the duel was to be fought with rifles, I
and Mr. Graves had no rifle. It was j.
understood that Mr. Cilley had brought' (
his rifle with him. There was a story j i
that found currency, to the effect that ,
Mr. Cilley, in packing his effects before ,
starting to take his seat in Congress, was ; ,
very particular in seeing that his trusty j
rifle should be securely stowed. As the j
story ran, he had practiced with- it for (
lays, and on finding that he could plant! j
a ball in the "bull's-eye" every time, I.
he exclaimed: "That will do! I will j ^
alirtw fViotiancrV?fv Southernera that there !
rt'lU. JL ItU JVU \ niui <tu vuiuy jv%? j
ire too low ! too fou' /"
There was another consultation all
round; all that Mr. Cilley had to do
vas to withdraw the offensive note
:gainst Mr. Webb. This Cillev would
lot d<V So there must be a third ex- j
hange of shots. This time, "I saw,"
n the words of Graves, " that the nozzle
>f Cilley's rifle was still more decidedly
hakv, and I felt much more at my ease."
bid now the aim of both parties was
nore deliberate than heretofore, except J
hat Mr. Cilley's rifle would not be enirely
steady at the muzzle?" One, two,
liree, fire ! Mr. Cillev fell stone dead,
jiercod through the very center of his j f
oreliead. "I would have given," said !
3raves, " all the world, had I owned it, ; .
o have called him back to life. I felt I
hat I would have given my own life if it !
ould only have brought his back."
Mr. Graves during his last sickness J
legan to say to his wife that Mr. Cillev
itood constantly at the foot of his bed,
vitli his gaze fixed steadily upon him. :
rhere, with the fatal wound in the forelead,
stood the slain Cilley, never takug
his eyes from him. " It is too hor- i
ible !" Mr. Graves would cry. At the i
iame time, and all the time, he was as s
500I and, apparently, as ambitious as i
jver. He would simply speak of it as a t
act, a dreadful, horrible fact, full of ' t
Iread, forebodings, but still a fact that
le would endure with all his manhood, s
Efe ordered all the lamps in his room to I
>e kept continually burning, that the ?
ipparition might be overwhelmed with ?
he brilliant light. j t
?? j?
Brave Drummer Boy?.
: {
In one of the battles of the Peninsular , >
(var, a drummer, wtiose name and corps j
have both been unfortunately lost to :
listory, having wandered from liis regi- !
nent, was taken prisoner by the French, i
mil brought before Napoleon as a spy.
Bonaparte frowned heavily upon liis
prisoner as he demanded his rank in
the British army. On being told it was
that of a drummer, the emperor, to test ;
the truth of the reply, caused a drum to j
l>e brought, and requested his prisoner j
to beat " the charge !"
The drummer's eyes sparkled villi
futhusiasm us he gave the terrific roll c
find rataplan demanded. j ]
"Now beat a retreat," said Napoleon, j t
"I eanuot," replied tlie drunpner, j 1
is as good chivalry as theirs north of ,
Mason and Dixon's line."
Mr. Graves had heard all these things, j,
and now how was he to secure a weapon j (
fit to meet the well tested one of his ?
antagonist ? He confessed that on this (
point he felt great anxiety, not to say an ,
approach of trepidation. His seconds ]
and himself ransacked all Washington ^
for a rifle, but there was nothing to be j
found at all suitable. The last day be- j
fore the fatal morning was almost spent, ]
uid no rifle to be found ! At length, on i j
?oing to Alexandria to a gunsmith's, an j (
:>ld, dilapidated weapon was discovered. ;
[t was out of order and out of use. Es- !
pecially, the touch hole had been blown :
mt until it wa3 large enough for a muz-1
sle. But this was the best that could j
3e done. So the gunsmith agreed to .
lave it in as good order as possible that ^
light.' With this assurance Mr. Graves [
vent home, and to avoid suspicion went *
o bed, and if possible to snatch a little
sleep before the early hours of the morn- 1
ng. Early in the morning after rising 1
md dressing himself -with the least pos- 1
>ible noise, when he was ready to go (
>ut ?n his deadly errand, as he saw his
vife and daughter lying in undisturbed
deep he leaned over and kissed them
loth, and taking the last look, and menally
bidding them good-bye, with the
bought that in all human probability he i
night never behold them again, for the 1
emembrance of his antagonist's deadly J
ifle came to his mind, as likewise the
act tliat he had not tried his own. Thus 1
le ^eut forth. All parties were on the ?
ground before it was fairly light. Henry .
L Wise wflsone of Mr. Graves' seconds,
dr. Webb was all this time totally uu- 4
sonscious of what was transpiring, as
nost undoubtedly he would not have (
illowed Mr. Graves to fight a duel for f
lim. All tilings tfere duly arranged ,
ind the principals placed in position, j
iccording to tlie most punctilious laws ! ,
>f " the code." The first fire was with- |
>ut effect. js
On consultation among principals and i ,
ieconds it was found that all that was ; .
leoessary to be done was for Mr. Cillev j1
o acknowledge that Mr. Webb was a j j
gentleman and the peer of Mr. Cilley, j
ind everything would be entirely satis- ; s
actory. This Mr. Cilley would not do. | *
>o there was no alternative save to fire j *
motlier round. This time, when Mr. j1
iVise approached Mr. Graves to put the ! ^
oaded rifle in his hands, he said: " You !
ire too low! too low!" This time as j *
Jr. Graves was taking his position and i
dm, he noticed that the muzzle of Cil- ! i
ey's rifle was far from steady, and then, j |
or the first time, he began to think that j
lerhaps he would not come off second !
>est. The second shot was without j
ffeot. As Mr. Wise approached Graves ! *
le said again, whispering between his i ^
aa^1? G T 4-aII v?/vn /trifli on VAll !
proudly; *4no such thing is known in
the English army. We never retreat." j
"Good!" exclaimed the emperor. ;
"You are a brave lad, and may rejoin
your own army."
Then turning to those near him, i
Napoleon gave directions that the drum- !
mer should be conducted back in safety
to the English lines. Fortune is, how- i
ever, a fickle jade, for at the battle of j
Waterloo this humble hero met with a I
sad death. He had been out wfth a j
body of skirmishers, who were suddenly '
attacked by cavalry, and driven back on }
their supports. The latter formed!
square, and the earth shook beneath the j
feet of the advancing cuirassiers as they {
rode right up to the points of the j
bayonets. Beneath that rampart of steel
lay the drummer, who had been too late i
*- 1- -H U/.wn?
co sees uie sneicer ui mc otjajur. xj.c woo
safe, however, and when the horsemen 1
were driven back, he jumped merrily
upon his legs, and shouted : " Hollo,
comrades! here I am, safe enough !" ;
These were the last words he ever
uttered; for at that moment a round j
Bhot carried his head off his shoulders,
and bespattered his oomrades with his \
brains. Such is the fortune of war.
In the Crimea, on the evening of the
lay on which an unsuccessful attack had j
been made upon the Redan, a drummer
was observed to leave the shelter of .the i
trenches with his can of tea in his hand,
and in the midst of a fearful shower of
shot and shell from the Russian batteries,
he threaded his way among the
wounded, giving a drink here and a i
irink there until his can was emptied. I
Then flinging the empty can toward the j:
snemy with a gesture of defiance, he
walked coolly back to his-post. By the !
neans of this timely assistance some of j
:he wounded were able to bear their suf- j
ferings until darkness enabled them to j i
i /InnfV? Tlio ^rnmm*?r 1
JC IVOt'UCU lltuu Ul/MVU* J.AAV |
3oy who did this brave deed received
he Victoria Cross from her majesty's ;
)wn hand.
A Notable Institntlon.
Not the least interesting of the pnblic
Duildings of New York is Ludlow street :
jail, the place where Wm. M. Tweed was i
xmfined previous to his escape. To the i
itudent of human nature it is well worth |
i visit. Tl^e visitor on entering is shown '
nto the warden's office and reception j
oom. This is a dingy sort of place, but i
vithal comfortable. In one corner is an '
)ffice where the books are kept, and 1
iround the room are chairs and benches ,
or visitors. Then he is shown up a nar-!
ow, winding staircase into the main oor- i ;
idor, and to the right is the dining
:oom?large and airy. Here those pris- ! 1
mers who cannot aiftrdto buy their own !1
neals are snpplied with food at the ex- ' '
>ense of the city or general government. 1
" * "? 1* t - JL _ 3 ! (
itate of our navy, and occurs in a com- I <
nunication addressed to the late secr?- ]
ary of the navy and by hira transmitted ?I
o Congress :
In case of a war between this nation j
ind England, the English navy oould |
matter its way into any of our harbors !
md destroy them; and any ordinary j
ihip in the British navy could blockade ;
tnv of cur harbors, could keep in every i
ship that was there, and keep out every
ihip that was on the outside. One single
vessel of the English navy could !
rvhip everything we have got. It is no j
exaggeration to say that the Inflexible, i
or instance, could go through our whole
lavy. Our ships might fire at her all
lay, and not hurt her. Her people !
vould go down to their dinner quietly j
vhile we were tiring at her. Au*l our
ihips could not ran away from* her, because
she makes her fourteen knots au
lour on a measured mile, and the fastest i
){ our monitors only makes eight miles, j
mmm i
" Teddy, my boy, jist guess how many
lieeses there are in this bag, an* faith
t'll give yon all the five." "Five, to be
jure," said Teddy. " Arrah ! bad luck ,
o the man that tould ye J" i ]
Jtiiers, cauea boarders, pay a supuiaseu t '
srice per week for their meals and re- ,
eive their -lodgings free. Returning I
rom the dining-room, the visitor enters
he corridor. This is the prisoners' gen;ral
room, und is their only promenade '
'xcept when the state of their health ren- ^
lers fresh air necessary. Here they are |.
teen lounging about, and one would j '
icarcely conclude from the air of con-1(
entment that prevails that they are pris- 1
>uers. Among them are counterfeiters, '
orgers, and fraudulent voters. They (
ire always glad to see a stranger who 1
vili talk with them, and are always ready 1 (
or conversation. It seems strange, but i "
t is a fact that thev are all hopeful of a J (
ipeedy release. They are watched over ; !
>y a keeper who, though small in stature, i j
seems to have a perfect awe over them. I '
i word from him is sufficient to quiet the 1 1
nost noisy; At the further end of the
orridor is the chaplain's library, a small j 1
oom with a marble floor and embellished J '
>v a few decorations in the shape of flow-1 J
*rs, woodcuts and chromos. The books j 1
ire plainly bound and are loaned to the ^
jrisoners whenever they want them. In j'
liis room are also chess, checker, and'; I
backgammon boards, which serve to i 1
rliile away the tedious hours. The ; J
elebrities of the place are wont to con- j ;
negate in tliis apartment, and while the
vriter was present the amount of "chaff"' 1
rhich was passed there was sufficient to '
nake the most despairing prisoner | *
nerry. Tlie cells are apparently very 1
lomfortable. Tliey are about twelve by 1
burteen feet, and contain two beds each. ! '
Che walls and ceilings are whitewashed, ! j
aid the only thing of which complaint *
nitrht Hp. mode is the darkness. The I!
rindows are large enough to light the ;
oom fully were they not oovered with i
tome stuff which excludes the light in a I
p-eat measure. For the invalids or
hose who have influential friends there
s a yard with walks around it, ana here
hey can take fresh air and exercise themtelvee.
It is generally supposed that Ludlow ;
itreet jail is a terrible place of confinenent,
but it is much more comfortable .
han the Tombs, and though confine-1 ]
nent is irksome, there are many free |
nen in New York to-day who would be
dad to change places with the poorest of i J
he prisoners there. .
The Condition of Onr Nivj.
The following is the deliberate judg- i
nent of Admiral Porter, our highest 11
laval authority, concerning the present <
"Dear Brother Grannis."
A New York letter to the Baltimore
Bulletin says : An editor has just been
discovered here, whose personality and
surroundings are worth mention. I allude
to E. B. Grannis, editor, publisher
and proprietor of the Church Unihn, a
large quarto of the size of the Independent,
devoted to breaking down sectarian
walls. Grannis bought the paper
when it had 500 subscribers, and has
raised it to 10,000 and a valuable property.
Grannis publishes the paper,
edits it and canvasses for advertising,
and does all the heavy work, with the assistance
of a young and bright eyed girl
i- - i xi. - i T_ / L n
wiiu K.eep? iiitj uuu&b. 111 iwi, vrrtwiuiB
has become a power in the religions
journalism of the country, and receives
scores of letters every day addressed to
Rev. Mr. Grannie, Rev. Dr. Grannis, D.
D., Elder E. B. Grannis, etc., and beginning
" My dear sir, or " Dear Brother
Grannis." Grannis, I ought to explain,
is a woman?a* little, nervous, active,
black eyed woman, who weighs
about ninety pounds, but represents a
hundred horse power.
I asked her the other day : "Do all
your correspondents recognize you as a
man?" "Yes, almost invariably," she
said. " My subscribers, agents and
contributors think I am a man. The
Question of my sex is nothing to them.
have men working for me in every
State, who always address me as ' Dear
sir.' I have hundreds of ministers in
my 'parish,' and they all think of me
and speak of and to me as ' brother.' It
seemed odd at first, but I have got used
to it."
"What is the object of this disguise
?" I asked.
H T r? att/xw t/*V YY\ Oolr TYITT
jl iiovc ucrci uibvuuv/u iv ? ?*?> **. ***j
self," she said, "but I have felt
that if the paper suited, my sex
was nothing to anybody, and
that perhaps my recommendations
and arguments would seem weaker and
less weighty if it were known that a little
woman uttered them. So I have
never intruded my womanhood on the
readers of the Church Union. I think
it would not disturb their confidence
now." She called my attention to a pile
nf letters on the desk, almost all addressed
to "Rev. Mr. Grannis," and she
added: "I had a letter the other day
from a confiding clergyman in Ohio, who
saluted me as 'Brother E. B.,' and asked
my private opinion as to whether women
aught to be allowed to speak in prayer
meeting. I wrote confidentially that I
iid not think it would do any hurt."
Mrs. (jTannis, I may add, has mustered
Drs. Duryea, Crosby, Burchard and
four other ministers into her service as
assistants, and with seven strings to her
bow, Rhe manages to do* a great deal of
affective work for " the Lord and
L4iUWU?
- ???
Ladies in Persia.
A traveler in Persia thus describes the
iress and appearance of the ladies of
that country:
A few women are seen. We met one
fitting astride on horseback, as all Eastern
women ride. We believe them to be
women because of their costume and
uze, but we can see no part of them, not
even a hand or an eye. They are
shrouded from the head to the knees in a
cotton or silk sheet of dark blue or black
?the chudder, it is called, which passes
rver the head and is held with the hands
iround and about the body. Over the
chudder is tied around the head a yard
iong veil of white cotton or linen, in
which before the eyes is a piece of open
work about the size of a finger, which is
their only lookout or ventilator. The
reil passes into the chudder at the cliin.
Every woman before going out of doors
puts on a pair of trousers, generally of
he same stuff and color of the chudder,
md thus her outdoor seclusion and disguise
are complete. Her husband could
hav in ^V?n ofvoof Tn fine
LiUt X rLl'^IU/iC UCX 1U 1UU OIIVV. I/, aaa vii au
costume Mohammedan women grope
their way abont tlie towns of Persia.
Their trousers ' are tightly bound'
ibout the ankles above their col;>ml
silk stockings, which are invariably
jf home manufacture; the slippers, with
no covering for the heel, complete this
ausightly, unwholesome apparel of these
in comfortable victims of the Persiau
readers of the Koran. The indoor costume
of Persian women of the higher
jlass appears indelicate to Europeans,
riie chudder and trousers are the invariable
walking costume. Indoors the
Iress of a Persian lady is more like that
A a ballet girl. In the ante-rooms of
Persian royalty my wife was received by
he princesses thus attired, or rather unittired.
"The Law of Kindness."
The influence of a good wife cannot
se too highly prized. Many a husband
ias been rescued from destruction by a
true and prayerful wife. The effect of
:he contrary was lately narrated thus :
rhe man was out of work, and could obtain
none. He with his wife was supported
by her relatives; this so exasperited
her that she loaded him with reproaches
ard declared that she would not
ive with him unless he was enabled to
l\t? liia /-.trti ATOi'fiiMici Tilii
jlippuit 1ic1 i 9J LliO u)1u tacluk'1117, jluv
consequence was lie gave himself up to
.lrink, aud in one of his tits murdered
lis wife and then killed himself. In her
tongue was not the law of kindness. Initead
of upVraiding she should have encouraged
him to bear up aud persevere,
vnd help would come at last. Drunkards
nave been reclaimed by the exercise of
this law. The writer knew an instance
nf a young man of high prospects and
excellent business capacity. He became
Intemperate in his habits, lost his position
and was deserted by his friends,
who gave him up as a hopeless case, au
Inebriate asylum failed to restore. He
became so shabby in his dress that he
could scarcely be recognized. But a
friend, not related, actuated by the generous
impulses of his nature, expostulated
with him, reasoned wiUi him in
nany conversations, treating hira with
lelicacv and kindness, bought him a new
rait of clothes, and by constant efforts
Drought him to a sense of his condition,
md he is now considered full}' reclaimed
md has been reinstated in his former
lucrative position. "Oh, he is going to
lestruction; he has brought it on him?elf,
and no one else is to blame." Such
a the general cry. Not so the good Sanaritan,
whose deeds ore registered on
iigh.
FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD.
1 Quntiom and Answer*.
When should peas be planted ?
For different soils or situations the
time varies a little, but from early to
i middle April is the season for this cli'
| mate.
What soil is required for this vege- i
(table?
If for general market crops the soil ;
i does not matter much, so that it is well
dressed. But when early results are j
looked for, the pea should have a light, |
rich soil. A pint of seed is sufficient for >
a row say thirty feet long, and sowing
may be* repeated every two or three
weeks in succession.
What is the best manure for hot-beds?
A mixture of forest leaves and stable
manure is much advised for this purpose.
The best way to obtain the same
is to use the leaves as a litter in the
stables during the winter.
How long can seed corn be kept before
| losing its vitality ?
! Seed corn, as most farmers are aware,
will keep much longer on the cob than if
shelled, being freer in this state from
mold and also the injuries of weevils and
other insects. Sound field corn kept in
a dry place on the cob will remain fit for
planting three or four years. Sweet
corn, after a year or two, will not germinate
freely, as it becomes so very hard
and dry. As new seeds invariably come
up sooner than old ones, it is safer not
to use seed corn after it is over a year or
two old.
I
What kind of soil does the cherry tree i
i require ?
A dry soil for the cherry is the nniver- |
sal opinion, and although a hardy tree j
will thrive on a variety of soils, yet good i
6andy or gravelly loam is iflf favorite j
place. When forced to grow in wet j
places where the roots are all the while !
damp, it soon decays and is very short
lived. When grown in warm vallays
liable to spring frosts, Mr. Downing ed
vises planting cherry trees on the north j
side of hills in order to retard them in :
the spring. The larger growing sorts of
black cherry are the finest of all fruit
! trees for shade, and are therefore generj
ally the ones chosen by farmers desirous
I of combining the useful with the ornaI
mental. <
i - .... ... . ?
Does wool of tiie same quality 01 line-;
; Rfiss possess always the same degree of '
softness ?
By, no means, for while, generally j
, speaking, the softness is the result of ,
comparative fineness, it is not always so. ,
Two parcefc of sorted wool possessing j
the same degree of fineness will often
disclose the one as having the soft j (
! quality in an eminent degree and the i
| other us harsh. L. A. Morrell explains j |
' this by several causes, one of which is [ ]
{ the soil, as, for instance, the chalky din
tricts of England, which effect the wool |
to such an extent as to make it invariably j
brittle aud harsh.* This, however, is! (
only local. The general cause of a defi- ! i
ciency in the softness in wools of the (
same breed may be referred direct to ]
the condition of the sheep. When an j
animal is kept in uniform good condition
the necessary quantity of yolk is sup- i
plied. Now, if there is but little of that <
substance, which will follow an abuse in ]
management, the wool will be less pli- <
able and "soft in handle." Therefore, j
it may be set down as a rule that wool j j
j owes much of its softness to the presence \ <
I of a sufficiency of yolk. j j
I What is this yolk alluded to ? ; <
A secretion of fatty or oily matter ; J
from the glands of the skin, which re- { <
mains attached to the wool, rendering it j i
glutinons, until subjected to the process , <
of sconring by the manufacturer. ,
]
(?ood Advice to Fanners. ,
A gentleman of experience writes: i
j Perhaps few men have seen the troubles j 1
i that farmers have been brought to in ]
consequence of mortgaging their farms ; i
more than I have, and I warn my read- ;<
J era to beware of the pit they would dig ; ]
' to fall into, by borrowing money to ena- j ]
i ble thein to purchase stock, or to culti-1 j
vate tlieir farms better and more exten- 11
; sively. There never was a time within j 1
the present century when farmers needed i
' to be so careful not to run iu debt as at '
; the present time. It will do for young I
! men, with but little money, to buy ! 1
really good farms, and run in debt for a j ]
j part of the purchase money; but a far- I
I mer who is out of debt?owns his home- \ ]
j 6tead free of mortgage?would be very 3
unwise to put even a small mortgage on 3
, it. No matter what his condition is, it i
J would be better to cut down expenses to i
the utmost degree. "When a farmer is , ]
out of debt he can, on a tight pinch, sup-J3
S>rt his family on a very small income, j1
is cows, pigs and fowls, with the | <
i breadstuff's he can grow, without anv j 1
hired help will supply him with iooa. <
j Then by keeping from fifty to one bun- j 1
drod hens, he can buy his groceries with 11
i the surplus eggs, and with a few pigs j1
1 fattened, a few calves; a little surplus j I
; hay and grain, he can clothe his family; i l
! and thus avoid mortgaging his farm? 1
' ' " *?" ' 1. i 4
tne uearn Kneu, m must caoen, ui a nu
mer's prosperity and peace of mind. <
Every farmer who finds it hard work to i
; " make both ends meet," and has girls i
and boys growing up, should have a <
patch of strawberries, raspberries, or of i
other small fruits, for the children to i
weed and pick, and also to sell in the 1
: village, if not far off. Let the rising i ]
generation among fanners be utilized, : i
by being thus employed at times in some | i
profitable and pleasant work. Straw- j i
berries often yield one hundred bushels t
per acre, or *3,200 quarts, worth anywhere
from fifteen to twenty cents a 1
quart; and many a farmer lia? cleared, 1
with the help of his children, $100 on a ! t
quarter of an acre. The Wilson, Charles 1
Downing, Green Prolific, Kentucky, ; ]
Champion, Monarch of the West, Setli I <
Boy den, and Juennda are among the ; 1
most popular varieties. , ! I
Frog Soup. j
Mr. Brcck's father was a rich merchant ]
in Boston, who was agent for the French i
I government, and brought into close con-1 <
nection thus with the French officers ]
attached to the squadrou which for a t
time was anchored in Boston harbor. ]
j His house was the resort of the foreign- i i
f ers, who were looked upon with U'l- j*
bounded curiosity by the Boston people, * ]
brought for the first time into acquaint- 11
i ance with a nation uniformly traduced by f
: the British. It w^s ipcredibje to t&oig j
that persons who were popularly sinT
posed to subsist mainly on frogs should
be so plump and well favored; but the
original facts were stontly maintained
ana supported by the rumor that they
had been discovered hunting for their
favorite food in the frog pond on the
Commons.
With tliis last notion in his head, Mr,
Nathaniel Tracy, who lived in a beauti
11U VUltt at uouiuimgc yiuAii nuu
ington's headquarters, and now Mr.
Longfellow's house), made a great feast
for the admiral and his officers. Everything
was furnished that could be had in
the country to ornament and give variety
to the entertainment. My father
was one of the guests, and told me often
after that two large tureens of soup were
placed at the ends of the table. The admiral
sat on the right of Tracy, and 51
De l'Etombe on the left. L'Etombe was
consul of France, resident at Boston.
Tracy filled a plate of soup, which went
to the admiral, and the next was handed
to the consul. As soon as L'Etombe put
his spoon into the plate, hfe fished out a
large frog, just as green and perfect as
if he had nopped from the pond into^he
tureen. Not knowing at first what it
was, he seised it by one of its hind legs,
and, holding it up in v'ew of the whole
company, discovered that it was a full
grown frog. As soon as he had thoroughly
inspected it, and made himself
sure of the matter, he exclaimed: " Ah /
mon Dieu ! une grenouille /" Then
turning to the gentleman next to him,
gave him the frog. He received it and
passed it round the table. Thus the
poor crapatid made the tour from hand .
to hand until it reached the admiral.
The company, convulsed with laughter,
examined the soup plates as the servants
brought them, and in each was to be
found a frog. The uproar was universal.
Meantime Tracy kept his ladle going,
wondering what his outlandish guests
meant by such extravagant merriment.
"What's the matter?" asked he; and
raising his head, discovered the frogs
^angling by a leg in all directions.
" Why don't they eat them ?" he exclaimed.
"If they knew the confounded
trouble I had to catch them, in order to
treat them to a dish of their own country,
they would find that wit? me, at
least, it was no joking matter."?Harper's
Magazine.
PERILS OF THE MINE.
Miser* Eatombed?Carrying t Woonded
Comrade for Hear*.
One of the most heartrending accidents
which has been recorded for some
time occurred st the Empire mine in
the vicinity of Scran ton, Pa. Two men,
Q&med John Mooney and Patrick Quinn,
weie employed in No. 4 slope laying
track, a distance of about two miles
from the opening and a mile from the
other workmen. "When they least
Ireamed of danger there was a sudden
convulsion overhead and an instant
later they were overwhelmed by a fearful
fall of roof. The terrible accident
put out their lights and they were in
utter darkness. Mooney, after considerable
difficulty, succeeded in extricating
himself from among the massive bowlders
which fell upon him in such a way as to
form a sort of cave, and upon freeing
himself his first thought was for his
companion. He called aloud for Quinn
but received no answer?only the echo
of his own voice beaten back by the
rocks. He felt himself growing faint
uid realized that he was very seriously ?'
injured, but was determined to ascertain
the condition of his fellow miner.
After calling aloud in vain for sometime
he groped about in the dismal place
miong the rocks hoping to find Quinn
md fearing he was dead. At length he
touched him, but the poor fellow was
pinned fast by a big bowlder which lay
upon one of his. mangled legs. The
ether leg had been completely severed
from the body by the fall. To release
aim was a hard task, but Mooney, for
getting his own injuries, set about the
work with a will and succeeded in setting
Quinn free.
How to carry him to the light of day
was the next trial, but he was determined
to do it; and, taking him upon his back,
tie began groping his way through the
pitchy darkness in the direction of what
tie oonsidered was the foot of the slope. -?.
For two hours he wandered about that
living tomb, with his dying comrade on
tiis back, moaning in the most piteous
manner. The situation was awful, and
ifter roaming thus for a long time poor
Mooney was disheartened to find that he
liad come back to the very point from
which he had set out, and where the accident
occurred He summoned up his
fast fading strength and mode another
Bfiort, still taking Qoinn on his back,
but after proceeding a short distance he
grew faint, and was unable to go further
with his precious burden. Then layiLg
:he dying man down in as comfortable a
position as he could, Mooney crawled on
lis hands and knees toward what he
;hought was the slope. At half past six
/clock a party of miners, while proceedng
down No. 5 slope, were startled by
lie apparition which their lamps revealid.
It was Mooney crawling slowly up
lie slope on his hands and knees, his
face black and bloody, and his whole
jody sore from contact with the jugged
pieces of coal and rock. His eyes were
it first dazzled by the light, he had been
In darkness so long and trying to 6ee,
ind he was speechless with joy for some
seconds to find relief at last.
This was eight hours after the accident
lad happened, and they were eight
lours of awful mortal agony. As soon
is Mooney found words to speak he rented
the story in brief, and begged the
party to hasten to the assistance of
Quinn, who might yet be saved. They
lurried to the spot indicated and found
he unfortunate fellow in the condition
already described, with one leg severed
from liis body and the other crushed to
pieces. He was still alive, and they took
lim up in their arms to carry him to the
dope, but he never reached it alive. He
lied in the arms of his comrades.
VIooney, who was severely wounded, wns
jxpected to recover. He played the
part of a hero in the unselfish manner in
vhich he risked his own life trving to
live his comrade. The men whi met
tfooney crawling up the slope weie
uoved to tears by his haggard, woe-bejone
and saddened looks, and said they
jever saw niob a pitiful sight before.