The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, February 23, 1886, Image 6
THE GOOD HOUSEWIFE.
J CHAPTER ON LATE FRUIT, AND
WHAT TO DO WITH IT.
?taserr1iifr Pcnrs, Peachett, tJrnpcs, Plum*.
Crab Applet*, Tomatoes, Ulc.< lite.
[From Harper's Bazar.]
always desirable to have the fruit
tlttt is to be preserved fresh. It will be
more palatable and will keep better than
if it has stood for any length of time.
Glass is preferable to tin cans. A porcelain-lined
or a granite-ware kettle and
a silver or wooden spoon should always
be used. A bright new tin pan may be
used if necessary, but an iron suoon is
to be avoided 011 all occasions.
For canned peaches select freestones,
and, when they arc to be had, give the
preference to large yellow ones. They
have a more attractive look if not a better
taste than the smaller white peaches.
"Remove the skins from the peaches, cut
in halves, and take out the stones. Instead
of paring the peaches, pour boiling
water over a few at. a time, and then
let them stand three or four minutes.
The ekins will then slip off with little
trouble. For each quart of peaches
allow four ounces of sugar and one teacupful
of water; boil two minutes, and
skim. Add a few peaches at a time,
not more than two or three quarts. Boil
twenty minutes, lift out with a skimmer,
and fill into glass bottles set in boiling
water. Continue so until all the fruit
has been used, then lift the jars out of
the water, till up with syrup, and seal
while hot.
With pears proceed in the same way,
ttsing six ounces of sugar for each quart
of pears, and boiling thirty minutes.
Small pears may be canned whole.
To can plums do not remove the skins.
Select perfect fruit, wash well in soda
water, drain, and boil for ten minutes,
using eight ounces of sugar to each
quart, of plums.
Grapes should be about two-thirds
ripe. They are often canned with the
seeds left, in, but the most desirable
method is as follows: Pick the grapes
off the stems; slip the pulp out of the
skin, place the skins in the preserving
kettle with enough water to cover, and
boil slowly; stew the pulp about three
minutes, adding only enough water to
keep from burning. The seeds can now
be easily lifted out with a skimmer, or
the pulp may be put through a sieve.
As soon as the seeds are removed, add
the pulp to the skins, and put in
eight ounces of sugar to each quart of
grapes. Boil two minutes, pour into
glass jars, and seal up while hot.
Canned penches and pears can be
quickly mnde into a delicious fresh preserve,
when removed from the jar for
use in the winter, by adding about as
much more sugar as was used in the first
place, and boiling slowly three quarters
of an hour or a little longer.
Grapes, plums, and crab-apples make
excellent jelly. Grape and plum jelly is
tart, and very good with meat and game.
Crab-apple is milder flavored and much
sweeter than the first-named. Catawba
grapes make a particularly rich-flavored
jelly, as also do the small Delaware
grapes.
\ To make grapes into jelly select such
as are ripe, but not overripe. Pick
them from the stems. Place in a kettle,
with as little water as will keep them
from burning. Stew quickly, stirring
them with a wooden spoon until the
skins and pulp bcginjto ssperate. Strain
through a crash jelly bag, then through
one of thick flannel. Measure the juice,
return it to the kettle, and boil for
twenty minutes; add as many quarts of
sugar as there were of juice when measured,
and boil for ten or fifteen minutes.
Grape jelly to be eaten with meats is
; very nice,spiced. To spice four quarts
of jelly, tie up in a thin muslin one teaspoonful
of ginger, same of cinnamon,
half a teaspoonful of cloves, and the
same of allspice; place in the ketfrle
with the juice, and remove when ready
to pour it into glasses.
Wild plums make the best jelly, but
other varieties may be used. ' Stew until
very soft, taking one quart of water to
a peck of fruit, boil for twenty minutes
and strain;, add as much sugar as there
was juice, and a little over?one quart
aud an eighth of sugar for each quart of
juice is about the right proportion. Boil
from fifteen to twenty minutes after the
sugar is added.
Crab-apples for jelly must be just ripe;
if over-ripe, the jelly will be darkcolored.
Cut them into halves, take two
quarts of water to each peck of fruit.
T?~:i ah A- J * ?
jotm uiuii lenaer, strain, cook fifteen
minutes, then add one cupful of sugar
for each cupful of juice, and boil ten
minutes. Any kind of a tart apple will
make good jelly. Use the formula given
for cral?-apple. A variety may be made
by flavoring with lemon. Jelly may be
tested by dropping a tea-spoonful into
a cup of cold water. If it falls ?to
wt - 1 * ' "
>ut uvmuiii ill a lump, II. 1H CIOllC.
Genuine old-time preserves, surrounded
by clear, uinber-hued syrup, are
charming to behold, and are endeared to
our palates by their delicious taste and
to our hearts by the delight of associations
and the handed-down memories of
our grandmother's store-room, where the
ample shelves held no sweet less rich
than preserves and cordials.
v Quinces, peaches and pears can be
made into preserves after exactly the
same recipe. Remove the skin and core,
leaving the fruit in halves. Allow one
pound of sugar to each pound of fruit,
make the sugar into a syrup with sufficient
water, and boil and skim it for
live minutes; then add the fruit, and
boil gently until the fruit is clear and
tender. Kemove the fruit into jars, boil
the syrup until it becomes thick, then
pour over the fruit. Leave the jars open
until the contents are perfectly cold.
It is an economical plan to make apple
jelly at the same time as ouince nre
serves. The peelings and perfect cores
of the quinces boiled with the apples
when preparing them for jelly will give
a delightful flavor, and answer tho purpose
quite as well as if the more expensive
whole fruit had been used.
Tomatoes make a pleasant-tasted preserve.
The small egg-shaped tomatoes
are preferred by some, but the other
kind well prepared is quite as good.
Select smootn, lialf-ripe tomatoes, peel
them without scalding, place them in
jars, and sprinkle sugar over them, using
^ two-thirds of a pound of sugar to a pound
. of tomotoes. Let them stand until the
^ - sugar has drawn out all the juice, then
put in a preserving kettle, and boil
slowly until the tomatoes are tender and j
of a dark f'olor. Remove the tomatoes i
into jars, and, unless the syrup is quite |
thick, boil it longer before pouring it j
over them.
Citron preserves arc much liked by
many persons. Cut the fruit into quarters,
and remove the rind. Boil it. until '
tender in a syrup made of water and the 1
weight of the fruit in sugar. . Remove
the quarters to a platter, and cut them
carefully into inch-wide strips. Cut the
strips in two, and pack in jars. Boil
the syrup thick, and pour over them.
Citron can also be made into a very
nice sweet pickle. Cut the citron in
pieces an inch thick i?y two long.
Steam until tender. Make a syrup of j
sugar and vinegar, allowing one pint of !
not too sour vinegar and one and a half j
pounds of sugar to every three pounds
of fruk. Boil five minutes, then pour |
over the steamed fruit which has been |
puiccu in jars. i^et it stana overnight. |
Then pour off the svnip, boil, and white i
hot pour again over the fruit. Repeat
again, adding spice to taste to the syrup.
If the syrup'has boiled down so that the
quantity is not sufficient to cover the
fruit, add more vinegar and sugar.
Peaches, pears, crab-apples, plums, or
any kind of *fruit may be made into a
sweet pickle by following the above directions.
Water-melon rinds make a
nice pickle when treated.in the same
way, and much resemble eitron picklcs.
Sour apples should be selected for
apple marmalade. Peel, core, and cook
slowly in little water until it is a thick
pulp. Measure the pulp, and return to
the same kettle. To each pint of pulp
take one pound of sugar. Melt the
sugar into a thick syrup; pour into the
apple pulp; stir and cook until thick.
Take up in small bowls. Marmalade
made in this way will in a week or two
be firm enough to cut with a knife.
Crab-apple, quince, and pcac.li marmalade
can be made after the same
formula.
BILL ARP'S LITTLE ONES.
lie TcIIh ITh nil Altont. IIIh- Children and
<?rnntlcliilrir?*n.
Our grandchildren are having a good
time now. They have finished breaking
the bull calf and are verv busy making
rt.itf,... i -i ?
H...KI tiwiio UI1UCI till'- I1>11| H)f 111 (1 It (II.
The fall is about five feet and they keep
the water busy and the wheel, .too, and
are talking about a little sawmill attachment.
I just let them go along and use
my tools and dull my handsaw and gap
my axe and waste inv, nails and leave
everything where they didn't find it, for
they are on a big frolie now, and will
have to go back to school in a few days.
I overheard them talking about school,
and one said: liI wish there wasn't such
a thing as school!" And another one
said: "Well, I don't, for the school is
all right, and I don't want to grow up
a dunce, but I wish my school days were
all over?that's what I wish.*' Iiut
Jessie, our Jessie, my Jessie, has left. tis.
She has gone to town to school, and we
will not see her but one day in a week.
It. is mighty hard on us, for she is the
light of the house and the. comfort of
my age. One by one they have to leave
us. Ralph has gone to Florida to live
and work, and we are getting lonesome
and homesick. "We miss them at
night and in the morning and at the
table. Even the dog looks sad and j
watches the road for their coming. But
all's well that end's well, and we are all
thankful for the good that is left us.
Carl is here yet and a lot of grandchildren.
They carry their sling-sliots
with as much impudence as a town boy
carries his pistol in his hi]) pocket.
Two of them made a target, of some
fine pears in the top of a favorite tree
and left the little rocks in the pears. I
promised them a whipping but somehow
or somehow else they didn't get it.
There is always somebody around to interfere
with my arrangements. So they
wanted to go to the base ball again this
evening and I just put my foot down
and said no. I determined to punish
them and now my opportunity has come.
When I take a notion I am boss at my
o\^n house, and now I've taken a notion
and I'll show the little rascals how to
shoot my pears. I'll teach them a
lesson.
Later.?They have gone to the base
ball with their maternal ancestor, and
nun s rne Kina 01 u man I am.-?Atlanta
Conatitution.
In the Lime-Kiln Club.
"Gcm'lcn," said the President, as lie
softly rose up and calmly looked down
on the shining pates of Sir Isaac Walpole
and Elder Toots, "dar am some
few things it would be well fur you to
disreckolect:
"De man who sots on de fence when
de sun shines will be diggin' fur grub
when it rains.
"Industry may make de back ache,
but she tills de stomach an1 kivers de |
? a. 1
H'Cl.
"Dp man who wants satisfaxshun by j
law will satisfy dc lawyers sooner dan
liissclf.
"Knockin' a man down bekase he
differs wid you doan prove de truf of
your own posisliun.
"De less a man knows de mo1 anxious
he seems to be to make dc public believe
he am a statesman."
"All of fo'ty y'ars ago," solemnly abserved
the President as he rapped for
order after a resolution had been presented,
"I made up my mind dat dc
man wid a co'n on his toe must either
grin an' b'ar it or suffer amputashun of
dc leg close atde hip. Nuftin' has sincc
happened to change my belief. De co'n
doctah am a man who raises up false
hopes in your busum. He talks grandly
of delirium tremens, spinal miningitis
an' lumbago an' odder portions of de
human anatomy, an' he softens up your
co'n and shaves off de top?charges, one
I dollar. Fur dc ncx1 free days you bless
! all de world, but on de fo'th or tifth dc
same ole co'n turns up fur bi/.ness,
rested, recuperated an' ready fur six
months of hard work. I^ct the resolushon
stand. De Janitor will blow out
de lights an' we will go home."
I A Prkdtction.? Somebody remcmI
hers that Morse once predicted that talking
through a hundred miles of wir<
would become-common, and that ocean
steamers on a vo*-?ge would keep up
communication c.^trieally with the
shore. The first prediction having com<
true, the second is hopefully regarded,
though regarded as wild when made.
FALL ON THE FARM.
The Important Work of Mclcctlng Seed
Corn.
BY HENRY STEWAIIT.
The selection of seed is of the highest
importance to the farmer who wants to
reap the most and the best as a recompense
for his labor. Labor is thrown
away on worthless material. A man may
spend as much skill and pains in carving
a medallion out of a pieeo of sandstone
or soft slate as he might out of a
hard, beautiful onyx or the purest alabaster,
and at the end he has only txasli
that is worthless and disagreeable to
show for it. So a man may crib his
corn in a few weeks, and in the spring,
from a mass of moldy and refuse ears,
he may hastily gather seed for the next
r?rnn liiit if I*** 1 1
?? uu VApWUt 21 gOUll 1UU1
al)uiHlant yield from it he will be sorely
mistaken. It may seem to be unnecessary
to state so plain and trite a truth,
but there are thousands of farmers who
will do this very thing, and some doubtless
will do it who are now reading this
warning.
The enormous losses which have
fallen upon farmers the past few jears
through the use of inferior seeds have
wrought damage to the extent of millions
of dollars; some fanners lost nearly
their whole crop last year and the
year before, and thousands lost a large
portion of it, and all this might have
been prevented by the simple precaution
of selecting good sound seed in the
fall. There is another fact which should
be considered, and that is that corn is
susceptible of greater improvement
through the selection and nse. of the
best seed than any other plant grown
upon farms, ami at the same time this
plant can be better improved by using
home grown seed than that procured at
great cost from a distance. There are
many wise and thoughtful farmers who
have been saving seed from their best
plants for many years?20, 40, and some
l')r.">0 years?and their reputations for
growing good corn and large crops have
made them the seedsmen of their localities.
Farmers who might have done
the same for themselves have paid four
or live prices for seed grown by these
neighbors. Perhaps this common
neglect is a neeesnry condition
to establish the truth of the proverb
mat "the, hand of the diligent maketh
rich,*' but jit any late the result justifies
the saying, This self-inflicted tax paid
to the diligent. seed gatherer might bo
spared and the public wealth increased
by a hundred million dollars if every
farmer would now "begin the work ot
selecting seed corn, hereafter take special
pain to cultivate the crops fjrown
from it so as to improve the grain in
every possible way. And just here we
would deprecate as strongly as possible
the so-called experiments of some agricultural
experiment stations, and that of
New York state in particular, the object
of which has been to try to show that
mouldy, lialf-ripened, shriveled corn
would grow and produce a crop. What
is the possible use of such an experiment?
It may serve to encourage a
thriftless farmer in neglecting the plainest
precaution and duty, and so injure
the interest which should be helped and
encouraged by these stations, but no
reasonable man would ever act u]>on
such a suggestion. Besides, it is not
true. It is an apparent impossibility
that a grain of corn deficient in substance
can bear a germ of sufficient vital
strength to reproduce the original quality
of seed. If it were otherwise, then
all the claimed results of breeders from
the excellent care and cultivation of a
race of cattle and the selection of the
best dams and sires would be falsified,
and the poorest half-starved scrub
might be used as the progenitor of a superior
progeny. "As a mau sows so
shall he reap."
Then the farmer intent upon improving
his corn will go into the field as the
ears are ripening and select those plants
which most nearly meet his ideal of
what the best corn should be; plants
with moderately sized and well leafed
stalks which bear two cars, both well
filled out and sound, 'and the earliest
ripe, and from these plants he will
choose the upper ear for seed, and mark
the liv fvitwr <1 nnl/M-nrl * 1
-v vj ? x.vawiv.v* OlU|i U1UU11U
the top of it. Or as .soon as he becomes
an expert an<l ran select these stalks as
lie goes along in cutting the crop lie
leaves tlieni standing until the rest is all
down and these ears arc ripe and dry,
and then proceeds to save them in the
best manner. If there is but one good
ear on a stalk it may be saved, but as
multiple earing is very desirable, we
would choose a less attractive car from
a twin-bearing stalk in preference to a
single ear. But the top ear should always
be tj\ken, -because it is the earliest.
These selected cars may be strung
upon a wire or a cord in dozens by using
a long twine needle, and eight such
strings would make a bushel.of shelled
corn. These strings should be hung in
a dry place out of the reach of vermin,
and no extreme of cold likely to occur
will injure them. In the South, where
the corn ."weevil,'' as it is called, but
really the corn moth worm, abounds,
the corn should l>c kept in bags or old
kerosene oil barrels nn*l t>mc
reach of this pest. As early maturity is
no special advantage in the South, it is
not necessary to select the* first ripe ears,
hut only the largest and best filled. And
yet for some purposes and at some times
enrly corn is useful even in the South,
where the present season corn litis been
bringing from $1 to $1.25 per bushel in
places where the crop was short last
year.
Out ok Money.?Emory Storrs enjoyed
an income of $25,000 to $30,000 a year,
earned at the Chicago bar, and yet he
was always out of money and in debt.
It is said that he habitually drew on
Samuel W. Allerton, a millionaire friend,
who never failed him in his frequent
emergencies. This friend helped him
our 01 tne dilemma when, at the time of
sitting down to a dinner to Lord Coleridge,
an unfriendly Sheriff seized tlio
viands.
AVak Houses for England. ? According
to the Board of Trade statistics
there are now about 2,000,01)0 agricultural
horsey in the \Jnitcd Kingdom.
Similarly, from the returns of the horse
tax, when it was Inst leviod, it appears
that there arc "also*in addition about
1,000,000 horses used for trade or by
rlvate individuals.
KHflHHKBnNBMw9SUHIlHeHara
.'yry.y- <> *: / v." VM
HE KNEW THE TRICK.
Hovr th Diner Attempted to j
(<cl it. Free .lieu!.
[From tlio New York Timea.]
At 8 o'clock the other evening the
dark wood trimmings of a fashionable 1
upper Broadway restaurant contrasted 1
effectively : usual with the glitter of i
silvei aim glass and the fall of snowy s
drapery as the usual crowd of diners re- I '
galcd themselves over favorite dishes. t
Among them a quietly dressed well-bred j
appearing man, with a dash of gray in i
his hair and Buruside whiskers, dis- j
eussed his solitary meal with evident '
relish and appreciation of the chef's i
skill. lie had dispensed with the ac- ;
cepted overtures jto a successful dinner, '
soup and lish, plunging at once into the ]
piece de resistance, winch in his ease '
was a choice eut of porterhouse of the ^
requisite thickness and tenderness, de- t
lieiously broiled and most temptingly 1
served. Some delectable cream hash <
potatoes came with it, a half dozen >
olives served sis a relish, and for a sweet )
before his coffee the waiter had brought |
him a trillc of preserved ginger. Finally (
the account was modestly presented, a 1
small fee deferentially received, ami the <
waiter withdrew. j
The gentleman seemed in no hurry to
finish his coffee and evening paper, lie <
glanced casually at his bill when it was <
laid before him, hut did not appear particularly
impressed. At length he 1
folded his journal, which he put in his i
pocket, took his hat, and the slip of
paper, end carted for tlit; door, via the;
desk where accounts lire settled.
The cashier faced him as he paused.
Without a word he laid the check
upon the desk. There was no money
with it.
"What is this V asked the cashier,
glancing \ip quickly.
"That is precisely what I should like
to know," was the calm response. , ;
"Very well, you shall then;" and the
cashier came out from his place with a
threatening air.
"Pay me $1.8.1, the amount of this |
check, or- I'll have an oliicer after you.
I I'm on to that trick. It's old already."
The man of the liurnsidcs at first
drew Himself haughtily uj> as if to resent
an affront, but as rapidly subsided,
and, count inir out some change, hurriedly
left the place.
The aiTair had tracted no notice in
the room, the writv./seemingly being the
only one who had observed anything ir]
regular. The cashier caught his eye and
a moment later his question.
"Yes, it was a game," he said, with a
laugh, "but it didn't work. A dead
e rot on bug was impaled upon his bill,
lie intended that I should believe he got
it here in his food, and, in my mortification
over such an occurrence, discount j
or remit altogether his account. I happened
to hear of the dodge last week. '
1 it has been tried several times lately,
and successfully more than once. The
high class restaurants are selected, for
only in such is a fried Croton bug a dish
that is never served. The thing is i
brought in the vest pocket, it is easy to
indorse the bill with it. and the rest is j
left to the embarrassment of the cashier.
This one didn't embarrass worth a cent." :
"Are you often swindled ?M
"No, swindling i-? about played out. <
It. has become practically impossible.
Watchfulness and distrust are inereas- 1
mg, and the old idea of.believing a man i
honest till he is otherwise found out has
given away to the exact reverse. Of
course," added the cynical cashier, '*1
refer only to this particular line of busings."
AMERICAN FABLES.
TI1E VULTURE AND TIIK IU11DS.
A Vulture, who had a Smut-Machine 1
of his own, Slandered and Abused and
Vilified the Eagle, the Pheasant and all
other Birds, even to the Humming
Bird. This continued until a Sage had
his Curiosity Aroused, and he cal ed
upon the Foul Bird and inquired:
"Why is it that you Abuse all the
Bird Creation outside of your own Species?
Have any of them Injured you?" <
"Why, no," replied the owner of the :
j Smut-Machine. "The fact that none of
I them will stoop to notice me is what
Punctures my Cuticle." <
moral:
A Vulture never Forgives the "World
i that lie wasn't Created an Eagle. \
<
the thistle and the cornstalk.
i
A Canada Thistle which had taken
I root in a Fanner's garden, one day saw
| a blade of Corn peeping 'out of the
j Ground, and in tones of Ridicule called
out:
4'What a Little one for a Cent! It's a 1
"Wonder you have the Check to force <
Yourself into my Company."
The blade continued to grow day by i
day, and it was of such bright color and
looked so Thrifty that the Thistle finally
called to the Farmer and said:
"Really, but I can't put up with such
impudence, and I hope you will Remove
that Corn-stalk at once."
"And who are you?" queried the
Farmer, having for the tirsttime noticed
the Thistle. 1
"Me? Why, I'm the Biggest and
Handsomest Canada Thistle in the Busi
ncss. My Geneology carries me back to '
King ."
"Uinpli!" interrupted the Farmer. '
"One grain of Corn is of more value
than a Hundred Tliiath-a f'nmn Af
\hat by the Roots!"
moral:
The T'.iicf who Abuses the Law always
gives Himself Away.'
Drought Him Out.
i
men J esse Witt was doing his best
work as a pioneer in Texas he undertook
to raise a large collection, and after '
forcibly presenting the merits of the ease
lie said: "This thing must be done, and
I will give $100 to help to do it. How (
much will you give, brethren?" A Bap- *
tist layman arose and said: "I will give ]
#500 for myself, and I will also pay j
Brother Witt's $100. It was the seeing (
of this weather-beaten pioneer giving
$100 which aroused the layman. To sec
a preacher give is often a means of grace
to others : but he cannot give if he is not t
paid for his services.?liichniond (Va.) <
Religious Herald. t
V^V!jV.v-"iK j'
- V.:. " > / "V ' .* '7 " '
A COUNTESS SURPRISED.
^lor Son Ilud Stolen lirr Peiirl NeckliiceTl>e
i>Iimut*r Mi Wliicli it (,'nimi llnck U
Her,
Vienna is much agitated over a seanda
here. The Countess of I> , a greal
ady moving in the court circles then?
s passionately fond of pearls?in fact
i?,. ;u 4 4 -r i
uv 1.7 iiu; Itniaii; ruvimt'i [Hii l u1 Jjvmv
fopaz in "Lothuir." A few weeks ag<
lie CountesH received a visit from he;
jeweler, who very strongly reeom
neiuled her to become the purchaser o
i most umgniticcnt "rope of pearls.'
Phey are quite unique, madaine, 1 assuri
i'oii," said the jeweler, "and the price t<
i'ou is only a hundred thousand florins.1
"Only a hundred thousand florins," re
icated the Countess, with a smile
"but, ii*import?., let me have a look a
pour gems. I feel strong enough to re
list the temptation to buy." Thereupoi
:he jeweler opened the casket wliiel
contained his treasure, and displayed i
it ring of pearls of such fault less beaut;
[hat Ijothair himself would have beei
proud to present them to the Lad;
L'orisande. Meanwhile the opening o
Ihe easket acted like magic upon tin
Countess. No sooner had she eaugh
sight of its contents than she over
whelmed the jeweler with a heap o
questions. "Where, when, how did yoi
come by these pearls? How much di<
you give?I mean from whom did yoi
buy them?" "I did not buy them a
nil," replied the astonished jeweler
''neither do they l>elong to me. The
were merely intrusted to me by a lad
to sell on commission. I should hav
hesitated a long time before buyinj
such pearls as these, for which one can
not find a customer every day in th
vear, madamc; no, indeed, they inigh
have been upon my hands for monthsyears."
At the urgent request of the Countcs
a footman was at once dispatched t
bring the lady who had deposited th
pearls with Mr. L . After a brie
delay the lady arrived, young, hand
some, and elegantly dressed in th
height of the reigning fashion. Sh
listened with :i subdued smile to th
series of questions which the Connies
of L addressed to her. Nettled
hut still containing the conmuuid of he
temper, the Countess wound up li
touching a secret spring in the fasteninj
of the necklace. "There, she ex
claimed, pointing to her arms and mot
to engraved on tin: side of the fasten
ing, "however you came into the pos
session of these pearls, you will hardl
venture to dispute they belong to me
Four years ago they suddenly disaji
pearcd from mv jewel case, and now
iifter all inquiry had proved fruitless
they are found with you! I am undo
great obligations to the lady who ha
restored to me that which is my own.
The Countess accompanied these word
with a bow and smile of profound irony
In answer to this tirade the lady uttere*
not a word, but, opening a small retieul
which she carried in her hand, produce*
11 highly scented billet-doux and handei
it to the Countess, who started as i
ii serpent] had stung her, and swoonei
upon the spot. On recovering con
sciousness she went straight to her writ
in^- table, wrote a check for the ainoun
ilcmauded by the lady, ami gave it t
her without uttering a single word
The billet-doux was in the handwritin:
of the Countess' only son.
What Caused the Trouble.
[Detroit Free Press. 1
There was a case of assault and batter
bctore one of the justices the other day
und a witness with a black eye, scvcrti
strips of court plaster across his nose am
one ear badly lopped over, was asked b
the defendant's lawyer if he saw Browi
strike White.
"Can't say as I did," he replied.
"Did vou see the whole affair?"
"Mostly."
"Well, how was it?*'
"Well, Smith and me sot 011 the reape
talkin' evolution. Jones and Green so
on the grass talkin' religion. Browi
and White sot by the edge of the stra\
stack disputin' on politics. Three o
four boys wa< in the barn gittin' up
clog tight."
"Yes, jfo on."
tt T 1 1 ?
i- um i iviiowimi, soincuouy eane<
somebody else a liar. Next I knowei
evolution, religion, politics and fii>htin;
clogs was a rolling over each other on tli
grass, and every man kicking and bitinj
and hitting away fur all he was wuth.
"But did you see Brown strike Whitei
"Can't say as I did."
"I)jd you see White strike Brown?"
"Can't be sure of it. The onlv thiiij
ri? ... -f ? ! *'
L in aim: ui, llll.-UCT lllWVUr, IS tliat 111
old woman came out with a pail of ho
water and licked the hull crowd and hat
over two quarts left for next time."
' >*e Bavarian King1.
King Yvudwig, the eccentric ruler o
Bavaria, has come to a stopping placc ii
his castle building. Out of seven struc
tures, on which he has been engaged
only one is finished, and it was begui
by his grandfather. A whole army o
Artisans are still busy at six others
Chiemese surpasses the finest portions o
Versailles, and its fountains excel al
others in the world. It is the Loui
XIV. style. The other residences ar
gothic or feudal. King Ludwig's in
herited fortune was so vast that it wa
only within the last three years that h
began to feel what his architectural ant
operatic fancies cost him. He patron
ized Wagner in the most vxtravagan
manner; and when his treasurer ven
hired to hint that the expense was toi
great, King Ludwig answered that hi
love lor Wagnerian operas was not s<
costly its a queen-consort would be. 1
year ago it was found impossible to g<
[>n without borrowing half a millioi
iterling on the king's civil-list income
und guaranteed by the heirs to the her
jditary estates. More money is wanted
rhe king's relatives arc incensed at hi
'laving spent all they could help hiu
borrow, and creditors are clamorous. I
ouncil of regency is demanded.
Caituhed.?Winchester was captured
md*recaptured more than any other citj
luring the war. It changed hands 2C
imes in the four years.
\ ' (
IrHiih "rj -i-i- ;Vf Vx". xV-v .v 11 ' At. . 'A
V- \ '
' . ' IN
- r
RIDING TO DEATH.
- A Runaway Railroad Train Rushing al
1 tltt* Rati* of Klfiiity iUilvM iiu Hour.
j [From tlio CliarlcHton Star.]
t, Mr. W, II. Edwards was on the wild
( train and witnessed all tin: horrors at(
tending the killing and wounding of
1 seven men. After leaving the C. & ().
> railroad a long stretch ol' level track is
r had, leaving which a heavy incline is
. had to within a short distance of the
f mines. It frequently occurs that the
? loaded cars are sent down the incline
L. without the aid of a locomotive, compete..!
i...: i > ? "
I ?.* ?... uninviiil'll IKIIIH lllilUVU UI1 I III:
' trains. Shortly before one o'clock on
. the day the accident occurred, two
loaded cars were detached from the
t engine at the head of the inclinc, in
. charge of tlx; brakcmcn. On the cars
^ were Superintendent Lavton S. Oakt
ford, Mr. Toman, mining superintendn
ent of the Coal Valley Coal Company;
v Mr. Amos Mitchell, tipple boss at Coal[i
burg; Mr. Hudson, a coal dealer of
y Lewisburg; Mr. Peacock and Mr. Hall,
f miners of Coal burg; Conductor-Epperly
e and Mr. Edwards. The cars, each cont
taining eighteen tons of coal, were
_ started down the incline by detaching
,f them from the engine.
n Mr. Oakford occupied a position on
1 the rear platform of the last car, standi
ing on the right side. On his left stood
t Mr. Toman, and Peacock, Mitchell and
Edwards, Hall and Hudson were on the
y rear bumper of the first car. .lust as
y the cars moved oil Mr. Epperly placed
e a hickory bar in the wheel of the rear
tr car brake, using it as an extra lever on
Z applying forcc to the brakes. He then
ran over to the front ear and used the
t same means in tightening the brake on
.. that c;ir. By this time the momentum
of the cars had increased greatly, causs
ing another turn to be; had on the brakes,
() but in a few seconds it became apparent
(, to all on the train that the brakes were
f failing to perform their work. Coni_
stcrnation seized every one. and prcparations
were made to abandon the train
us speedily as possible, but before any
c determination could be arrived at. it was
plain that to jump was to meet, death in
S - l " -
si iiornuie lonn. J\,aeh scconcl increased
j. the velocity of the cars. A roar as if a
v long express running at the rate of sixty
,r miles an hour was dashing by, con7
vinced the men on the wild cars that
they were being whirled along at least
eighty miles in sixty minutes, and then
the fearful thought of being hurled to
y death flashed upon their minds. Suddenly
Mr. Oakford raised himself from
between the cars, waved his hand to the
men on the rear car and then disap- A
' pea red, the supposition being that, be'
iug satisfied he would be killed if he reK
inained on the cars, he jumped off after
m waving his hand.
s Mr. Edwards says, at this juncture :
"I saw nothing of the other men now;
j the coal in the cars was bubbling and
P boiling; a thick cloud of dust followed
I the lurching cars, and the noise was
I awful. I threw away my hat, buttoned
f my coat, and prepared myself for a
j jump. To make the leap sit that time
_ would have been to meet instant death,
. and my only chance for life was to
t spring when the final crash came, which
(> I saw was not far distant. My senses
almost left me; the rapidity with which
,*r the train was moving had lost its terrors;
3 a peculiar fascination for the weird
scene seemed to possess me, and all my
energies appeared to centre in holding
fast to the rim of the coal hopper. Suddenly
I felt a jarring of the car, and
1..1*1 ^1- - ?
nm:n null nr mill It'll II1U H'llCK. 1116
next instant I sprang1 from my position
y on the bumper; that leap I shall never
forget. Instantly my past life was
il photographed before my eyes, and my
3 only thought was a short prayer, not
v spoken, but flashed through my brain _
u with mysterious rapidity. The next
thing remembered by me I was runniag
anions the grass and weeds, far away
from the wreck. The rear car had
turned over, and coals, wheels, and
springs were flying thick in the air. Ii?
r jumping I struck upon my feet in
t marshy ground, turned a somersault,
ti plunged my head into the mud,
v then, springing to my feet, ran a short
r distance. I turned about and found
a Peacock upon his back lyi/ig on the tie
i end of the track, lie had fallen of! the
! wreck and lay just where he had fallen:
] the blood was flowing from his mouth,
I no*e and ears, and his skull seemed
rr broken and badly mashed. He died in
p about two hours.
rr "I found Mr. Oak ford dead. lie had
tried to drop himself from the train that
' he might strike an open space at a slack
pile, but the projecting platform at. the
storehouse caught him. The force ol
rr the collision tore oil the ends of two
v heavy oak planks from the platform,
twisted the spikes that held them, and
:l tore oft the top of one of his shoes,
gashed a terrible wound in his side, and -k
tossed him in the air, flinging him to
the ground with broken arms and fractured
skull. He never spoke.
"Just, above the store, in the bed o!
f the branch, we found Mr. Toman lying
upon his back terribly injured. Hie
- right leg was broken, his shoulder blade
, smashed to atoms, and he received other
i? injuries to his head and body. He died
f the next morning. A quarter of a mile
further up the track Mr. Mitchell's body
f was found lying beside the railroad,
1 with his skull shattered and his brains
s scattered along the track for many
e yards. The wreck of the rear car broke
- the connecting pin which held the two
s cars together, and the front or forward
(s car sprang loose and ran about a hali
1 mile further on down the track and up
set, flinging Mr. Hudson out on the hiIIt
side, seriously but not fatally injuring
- him. He had a rib or two broken, hie
3 head was bi;dly contused, but he was
? able to walk up the track and help move
5 the body of Mr. Hall, who had fallen off
^ the car above the second wreck and had
y been instantly killed.
i "The time occupied, as well as I can?
judge from the moment we started down.
" the incline to the final wreck was prob
ably not longer than two minutes, and
8 the distance travelled was about three
* miles."
Worn Off.?A Baltimore negro ha^ -V
literally worn two lingers off in many
I v/>arfi rvf oliAvuli? 4iaa1 rru ?. i? ?
^ j ? ? W* Qnyvvuuu i.uui. 1UU CWJlt* llf rer
|>ortcd by a physician as a curiosity,
i There is no apparent disease, and no in*
convenience.
/:$