The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, May 25, 1886, Image 2
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The City ot Mexico is progressing
rapidly and putting on tlio best habiliments
of modern civilization. It is projecting
the best sanitary system on tho
continent, and will soon be illuminated
from centre to suburb with tho electric
light.
Philadelphia florists have adopted the
Parisian conceit of printing inscriptions
ion the petals of roses. A tender sentiment
inscribed on a rose leaf in a boquet
is supposed to bo more effective than any
other form of floral language. The rosa
may wither, but the inscription on tha
faded leaf can still be read.
The drink bill of Great Britain for 1885
was less than that for 1884. The amount
of this drink bill is equal to the nation's
expenditure for bread, butter and cheese,
is not much less than the rents paid for
farms and houses, is three times tho
amount spent for tea, sugar, coffee and
cocoa, and six times the amount spent for
linen and cotton goods.
A French physician asserts that he has
discovered" a soporific whose effects can
be exactly limited to tho time required.
This will, lie says, enable travellers to
sleep comfortably and confidently during
a journey. He measures his doses by
miles. Thus you can take a fifty-mile
dose before starting on a railway journey,
and open your eyes, pleasantly refreshed,
at your proper station.
The song of the shirt can be given to
an instrumental aecoinn.mimnnt. now A
Berlin inventor has attached a musical
box to a sewing-machiue, which doles
out its melody as long as the machine is
in operation. What with this and the
sewing-machine itself, Tom Hood's
famous lyric is becoming decidedly oldfashioned.
Bat its sentiment holds good,
however, tho attendant circumstance
xiay have changed it.
The books their authors liked best,
says a publisher, were invariably the
least popular. The best books are, however,
not always those that are the widest
.read, and the authors may have been
right after all. The solid gold often
lies ncglccted on the publisher's shelves,
while the spangles and foil and tinsel
glitter in the sunshine of popular favor.
Do not judge what you read by what
people say about it, but by what you
think of it. You may be wrong, but
you will at any rate form an opinion ol
- your own.
- The correspondent of the Cleveland
Leader says that old friends of the President
whisper that he will never marry.
They say the only woman that he ever
really loved has been in her grave more
than twenty-five years. He met her, they
say, when he was a school teacher in a
little town of New York, when the down'
had just begun to come upon his lips,
and she was sweet 10. They loved, but
they were too poor to marry. Cleveland
had decided to go west to make a fortun,
when his sweetheart became sick,
and, within a few days, died.
Robert Garrett's small hobby is his
through railroad line to Philadelphia and
New York; but his big hobby is walking-sticks.
"His canes, hats, and patent
>., leather shoes," says a Baltimore correspohdent,
"are positively numberless.
People who go into the hallway of his
house, while he is at dinner, usually conclude
after a brief study of the hattack
that he is entertaining a vast congregation
of his friends, whereas there is
110 one there but his mildly eccentric self.
If he should ever be dragged down to
poverty, he can subsist in comfort during
the balance of his days upon the sales of
his old canes and clothes."
A New York paper contains a sketch of
the career of George M. Pullman, the inventor
of the Pullman palace cars. He 1
lived in Albion, N. Y., where he was
born, until he was twenty-five or there- '
about, and followed his father's business,
the removal and raising of buildings. He
was very careful in dress, good-looking, 1
popular and exemplary in conduct. Ho 1
was very ingenious and fond of figuring '
out schemes and drawing diagrams of 1
many kinds, to show their feasibility, j
He was so liberal in his dealings that he 1
never saved any money, and indee'd,, in '
bo small a town,naturally did not make a I
'great deal. Several years before the war, 1
when the level of the streets of Chicago
was to be raised, Pullman went there and '
took the contract for elavating the Sherman
houso a certain number of feet. It '
was thought to be a prodigious task, and '
many persons predicted that it could not
be done. Pullman wont to work scientifi- '
cally however, and achieved his object. '
That gave him such a reputation that ho I
had all he wished to do. When the min- 1
ing excitement occurred at Pike's Peak '
he hurried to Colorado, and started a 1
miners' supply establishment, which was
very successful. "While there he devised '
the plan of sleeping cars, sold out his in- 1
jterest in the supplies, and returned to 1
iChicago. Ho showed his diagram to a :
number of experienced persons, and they
all encouraged him in his undertakings. 1
After working a long while in perfecting I
his plan, he had it patented. Thereafter ^
his progress was rapid and his fortune '
sure. He is a man who likes big operations,
being a natural speculator, and f
make) and loses largely with equal *
1 equanimity. *
frv.--' to*.v?57X-A"n-,;
' 1 ,S : '. ;: ? ; ; ' ?pw ? . v
Compensation.
>In that now world toward which our fee6 an
j . set
Shall W3 find aught to niako our hearts for
got
Earth's homely joys and her bright hours oJ
bliss?
Has heaven a spell divino enough for this*
For who the pleasure of the spring shall tell,
When on the leafless stalk tho brown budf
swell,
"When the gross brightens, and tho days grow
long,
And little birds break out in rippling song?
O sweot tho dropping ove, the blush of morn,
Tho starlit sky, tho rustling fields of corn,
Tho soft airs blowing from tho freshening
seas,
The suu-llecked shawdow of tho stately trees,
The meilow thunder and the lulling rain,
Tho warm, delicious, happy summer rain,
When tho grass brightens, ami tho days grow
long,
And little birds break out in rippling song i
O beauty manifold, from morn till night,
Dawn's flush, noon's blaze, and sunset's ten
dor light!
O fair, familiar features, changes sweet
Of her revolving seasons, storm, and sleet,
And golden calm, as slow she wheels through
spaco
From snow to roses; and how dear her face,
When the grass brightens, when the days
grow long,
And little birds break out in rippling song.
O happy earth ! O home so well beloved 1
What recompense havo we, from theo re
moved ?
Oi>e hoi?e we havo that overtops tho whole;
The hopo of finding every vanished sold
We love and long for daily, and for this
Gladly wo turn from theo, and all thy bliss,
Even at thy lovliest, whon tho days aro long,
And little birds break out in rippling song.
?Celia Thaxter, in the Century
Two Strange Meetings.
Tlicy met first in the oddest way.
She was standing at the approach of
the suspension bridge in a bitter, blinding
snow storm.
Iler umbrella was inside out, her wrap
had broken from its fastenings and was
flying in the wind; the icy breezes and
fine particles of snow were whistling up
her sleeves, while her bonnet and hair
were in a white, feathery tanglc; becoming
momentarily more pronounced as the
fierce blizzard swept across it from the
river.
She was trying hard to keep herself
together, looking despairingly around
die white for some means of getting
across the terrible bridge in safety.
What could he do?
He was not the man to look unmoved
upon such a picture of distress, especially
such a pretty picture. For she was
pretty.
A petite, compact figure, with unmistakable
evidences of refinement in every
curve and outline; bright, dancing eyes,
all the brighter in contrast with the glowing
red cheeks; a small, firm mouth, and
a chin absolutely trembling in its soft
nest of feather trimming.
He took in all these details at a glance,
saw that she was in real trouble, stopped,
and said:
"You had better wait for a street car.
You cannot walk across the bridge this
morning. There is a blast coyiing up
the river that cuts like a million knives."
"I cannot help it. I have to be at the
depot at nine o'clock, and there are no
street cars in sight," was the breathless
reply, as she struggled with her unruly
umbrella.
He took the umbrella from her, and as
he forced it into the proper shape, said:
"Then you had better let me pilot you
across."
She turned her eyes full on him and
looked searchingly into his face.
She saw a tall, handsome, brownbearded
fellow, the bronzed cheeks tint
cd with a rosy hue that indicated the
lover of out-door life.
She saw tlrnt the bronzed face had a
kindly, honest expression, and as a proof
that her inspection had resulted satisfactorily,
she put heif daintily gloved little
hand on his arm and said, quietly:
"Thank you!"
So he held the umbrella to windward,
ind with the compact little figure tucked
iway under his arm, and the wind hooting
and groaning his disappointment as
t tried to get under and around the umbrella
at the dainty bonnet and hair still
n a tangle, he pushed boldly across the
sridge, with his heart thumping a sym
lathetic accompaniment to the pattering
feet of his companion.
Then as he handed her the umbrella
ind raised his hat, she said:
"Thank you very much for your kindlesa.
I should never have crossed the
>ridge by myself, I am afraid."
Whon the young lady got home that
ivening, and told the assembled fam:iy
iow she had crossed the bridge in company
with a strango gentleman, there
vas a general uplifting of eyebrows and
ihrugging of shoulders, though no one ,
vas va.j much surprised. ,
Kate Selby had all the independent ,
ipirit of her age, Rex and nativity, and ,
atucr enjoyed defying tho proprieties .
vhen it could be done with moderate .
safety. ,
Perhaps it was this independent spirit
hat made her adopt such an unusual ,
plan for getting into the. house of Mrs. <
Douglas on the night of tho fancy dress ?
>arty, a few evenings later.
This party had been tho talk of society
or weeks. It was expected to be somehing
unusual in its gathering of well- \
mown people, not only in soc'ety per w, i
. .*~ J* ; .' "- ',' ' *," r V \
ut in the professions of medicine^ law,
3 literature, music and art.
{ The costumes were to embrace every
" | known covering for the human form, and
f 1 the whole affair was to be an event to be
i remembered.
The Douglas and Sclby residences
, were each surrounded by a large lawn,
i ] divided only by an imaginary boundary
I line.
Miss Selby had chosen for the party a
simple country girl's costume, and very
pretty she looked as she stood in the parlor
showing herself to her father, whose
tiresome, wounded foot, a reminder of
j Gettysburg, would not allow him to go
; out to-night.
J A light calico, with a white apron and
i pinK riuuons and bows, unci a small basJ
ket in her band, made Kate Selby as
sweet a picture, a la Watteau, as ever
met the gaze of a connoisseur.
Five minutes later, Kate Selby 'was
standing in a small grove at the side of
the Douglas mansion, watching the
dancers flitting past the long windows
! reaching to the ground.
j She could see nearly all over the room
from where she stood.
All were masked, and as they moved
in rhythmical cadence to the music of
the orchestra, Kate felt that creepy sensation
which the sight of twoscore people
with hidden faces, but piercing eyes, so
often produces.
She turned quickly and?looked into
the face of a red-bearded, dirty-faced
man, witu a black eye and a livid scar
across his cheek, which did not improve
his naturally repulsive appearance.
The man was intoxicated. Kate saw
that at the first glance.
She stepped to one side, with an indignant
flash from her gray eyes at the
fellow's insolence in looking at her at all,
and was about to run toward the side
door, when lie placcd himself directly lu
her path. j
"No' so fas'?hie?my dear. I wan'
shome ze funsh?hie?an' I'm goin' to
dansh wiz j'ou."
Heavens! there was another one!
A bundle of rags, whose shining black
face and close wool showed its Ethiopian
descent, made its appearance from behind
a large tree and grinned silent approval
at the other's remark.
Kate could still sec through the trecg
the dancers passing the long windows.
She opened her mouth to scream, but
before she coul.l utter a sound the redbearded
man put his hand significantly
behind him as lie said:
"Scream an' I'll shootsli yer."
This was awful.
The red-bearded man grasped her hand
and pulled her toward him.
Then?she never could tell how it liappened?the
red-bearded man fell flat on
his back.
At the same moment the whole scene
seemed to be pervaded with a mountainous
expanse of brown woolen, rope girdle,
and tight-clinched white list.
"Pax vob'scum!" said a voice she
thought she hud heard before, as the
brown woolen, rope girdle, and white fist
resolved themselves into a Capuchin friar,
standing tlireateniugly over the redbearded
man and uttering the pious benediction
with a heartiness that must have
been very soothing to the drunken ruffian
at his feet.
The friar's large, pointed hood had
fallen back, revealing a bronzed face,
with r. brown beard, nud two blue eye.i
that blazed in the light which fell full
upon him from the long windov- s of the
i.
uuuau.
They recognized each other at the
same instant.
"You seem to be mjr protecting angel.n
she said.
"As is consistent -with my saintly character,"
he answered, gravely.
"May I take you to Mrs. Douglas and
get an introduction?" asked the friar of
Fate.
The introduction resulted in Miss Selby
finding that the friar's name was
Morton.
But she calls him Fred now.
An Effective Prayer. i
Some time ago, as the story runs, W. <
W. Erwin the criminal lawyer,pressed for
a little change, dropped into the office of
D. W. Ingersoll and asked him for the
loan of $5. Mr. Ingersoll declined to
make the advance, but suggested that,
instead, if Mr. Erwin would go into the
basement with him, he would pray for
him. Mr T^rwin mnaonfncl on/1 *" "
_ OUU tUU t>TU
went into the depths, where on bended
knee Ingcrsoll prayed long and well for
his Vother mar. When ho had concluded
Erwin said, "Now I'll pray." i
Mr. Erwin's prayer was a peculiar one. i
It was deliveren at the top of his voice,
and consisted of an exhortation to tho
Lord to direct Ingersoll how to dispose
of his vast wealth wisely. As he warmed
up the pitch of his voice raised materially,
and Mr. Ingersoll grew nervous, and
urged him not to pray bo lond, as it
would bring those upstairs down. If}
was of no avail. The exhortation grew i
more fervent, and finally became howls.
Then Ingersoll, with a despairincr ex- I
tarnation, sprang to his fret, and said: 1
' Stop praying, Erwin; here's your $5."
rhe devotions ended at once.?St. Paul i
Pioneer Press. >
Some one has figured up that it would
;ake a man 3000 yean to read books
which arc generally accepted as standard.
V- ''k'' M Vv's 1
> ; . '' '
'jASB-MLL.
is About the Natlorn
Game as a Business.
he Expense Attendant Upon Maintainii
a Firat-Olass Club.
Twelve or fourteen years ago it w
redictod that baseball would ere now
ne of the things of the past. In tho
liys elubs were organized on tlienarro1
Bt monetary margins, mostly by spccul
ive and irresponsible men, who, in mai
ases, when it can*; to paying their del
ailed to do so, and at onee declared th
here whs nothi??r in bns(>ltnll unrl tl?
i would soon die out. But instead
.us struggled along, year after year, u
il it is now the leading American spoi
nd is backed by some of the wealtliic
len in the country. To-day there n
horoughly organized and fully cquipp<
iglit associations as follows: The N
ional League, eight clubs; the Americi
issociation, with eight clubs; the Sout
rn League, with eight clubs; the Nc
Sngland League, with six clubs; ti
nter State League, with eight clubs;
Northwestern League, with six clul
nd the Gulf League, with six clul
These eight organizations employ ov
100 men, whose salaries for the scas<
rill aggregate $1,000,000 or more. Tl
alary list alone of any first-class clu
oots up from $2o,000 to $40,000 a yen
.nd individual salaries, in some instance
rnve nearly reached $5,000 a season, ai
n many cases they have range from $2
00 to $3,500 for the season. But there
to class of public amusement or spc
vhich, when properly conducted, giv
)ctter returns than baseball.
The travelling expenses of a club, for
|uitc an item in the expenditures, ar
jenerally foot up to $10,000 or more du
tog the year. This includes all railror
ares and accommodations at first-cla
lotels. Each club has about 12,0(
niles to covcr during its regular char
>ionship season, not to mention ho
nany more while playing exhibitic
panics. Then there is the addition
:ost of keeping the grounds in prop<
jlaying condition, besides paying gat
nen, ticket-takers and special men en
jloyed about the grounds. All thci
hings are well understood by those wl
lave studied the subject, and they kno
ull well that a large capital is require
:o properly conduct the business. T1
lay has gone bjr when half a dozen mc
:an organize a club, unless they en
iliow that they are financially able 1
larry out their engagements during tl:
icason. A year or two ago fancy sail
ies were paid in a great many instance:
md players who happened to receive
ittle notice demanded such exorbitm
jrices that it camc near ruining some c
:he clubs. To nvoid any unreasonabl
jrices by players, the leading organizi
dons have passed a rule limiting a pi a]
;r's salary to $2,000 and doing awa
with the advance money system exccj
lust enough to defray travelling expenst
it the beginning of the season. Th
paying out of a large sum of advanc
noney during the earlier part of the sen
ion proved a great burden to most of th
jlubs, and the abolishing of that systei
aas met with general favor tliroughou
:hc country. A year or two ago a gooi
first or third baseman could not be cr
gaged for less than $1,200, and from the
up to $2,200. A first-class second bas
man could obtain from $2,000 to $3,00C
A."*short stop with any reputation wantc
from $2,500 to $3,500 a year. Outfieldci
command from $1,500 to $2,500 for tli
season. The pitcher, who is a very in
portant man in the nine, especially if h
lias any known abilities as a twirlei
? A ~e e
fTVUlVI J1IU1VU 41 iJIV/UL'91 UUIUilliU U1 1IUI
$2,000 to $3,500 for his season's work
and then he would want a man to altei
nate with him. There are some me
who are really worth more than the $2,
000 limit, and they should be paid in a(
cordance with their merits but ther
must be a line drawn somewhere, an
the men who make unreasonable demand!
Bimply because they happen to do we
during a season, should be kept down t
the limit. For $2,000 for one hour
work, six dnys in the week, for seve
months in the year, is good compensation
?New York Mail and Expresn.
Seals us I'ets.
Your friend, Ernest Ingersoll sends yo
a message about some Indian boys of th
Makah tribe, who live at Neah Bay. T
find that place, by the way, you must g
just behind Cape Flattery, wherever thi
queer-named cape may be. The dcaco
Bays most likely it's a dangerous cap<
judging from its title. Well, it seeir
that the Makah boys have pets and
form of amusement denied to mo?
youngsters. In midsummer great quar
tities of fur spals approach the shore i
that region, and are chased in canoes an
killed by the men of tribe for tho sake c
both the hides and the flesh. With thei
come many little "pup" scnls, some <
which are always captured and take
home.
Tying strings around the necks of thc>
"pups," the Indian boys make thei
swim in the surf, just outside th^ breal
ers, and tow their canoes across the ba>
and even after them up the rivers. I
short, the Indian lads have a world (
fun with these gentle and graceful wj
ter-dogs.?St. Nicholas. N
...
Two Rcmnrknble Children.
Perhaps the two most striking instanQ1
ccs of home training that have been given
to the world, writes Agnes Itepplier in
the Atlantic Monthly, ure those of John
ag Stuart Mill and Glaeomo Leopard i, the
principal diilerence being that while the
English boy was crammed scientifically
by his father, the Italian boy was per"
mittcd relentlessly to cram himself. In
both cases we see the same melancholy,
so blighted childhood, the same cold indifference
to the mother, as to one who had
*1no
part or parcel in their lives; the same j
joyless routine of labor; the same nnboy- ;
i
ish gravity and precocious intelligence. !
, Mill studied Greek at 'A, Latin at 8, the ,
OT 1 |
Organon at 11, and Adam Smith at 13. |
Lco|>ardi, at 10. was well ucmiuintcd i
II- t" ' 1
^ with most Latin authors, and undertook
^ alone aiul unaided the study of Greek,
perfecting himself in that language be^
fore he was 14. Mill's sole recreation
was to walk with his father, narrating to
a- .
him the substance of his last day's read- I
I ing. Lcopardi being forbidden to go
about Recanati without his tutor, acquij
eseed with pathetic resignation and
I ceased to wander outside of the garden
gates. Mill had all boyish enthusiasm
'' and healthy partisanship crushed out of
him by his father's pitiless logic. Leopardi's
love for his country burned like a
smothered flame, and added one more to
I1C
I the pang's that ate out his soul in silence.
' Ilis was truly a wonderful intellect; and ;
ir' whereas the English lad was merely
^ forced by training into a precocity fort
cign to his nature, and which, according
to Mr. liain, faded to produce any great
ls amount of scholarship, the Italian boy
fed on books with a resistless and cravCS
ing appetite, his mind growing warped
and morbid as his enfeebled body sank
nj more and more under the unwholesome
strain. In the long lists of despotically
,rJ reared children there is no sadder sight
than this undisciplined, eager, impetuous
soul, burdened alike with physical and
moral weakness, meeting tyrannical aun"
thority with a show of insinccrc submisw
sion, and laying up in his lonely infancy
>n the seeds of a sorrow which was to find
expression in the keynote of his work,
pr "Life is Only Fit to be Despised."
e- _
ll" The Hog's Importance.
sc The hog is not only of importance at
10 home, but is beginning to make a rew
spectable showing in our exports, although
Bismarck is doing what he can to
10 keep him out of Germany. Meanwhile,
1,1 we have frequent discussions on eating
in pork, and the propriety of setting one (
? side the Mosaic law which prohibits its
lc use as food, a law which our Hebrew
l~ friends religiously obey. (
5> The hog is not, however, to be cxter- (
a minated. A newly arrived Irishman once (
said to the inmate of a pigsty: "Bedad, ,
you are the only gentleman in America, 1
Lc the only being that lives without work." 1
He breaks into gardens and roots under |
the gates of frout yards. He enters into ]
y the composition of half your articles of 1
food; lie lies down boldly in your meat 1
>s platter; he gets into your pics and cakes, i
e making a sad mess of them. Your cook 1
C mfilrnc vnn n Innf nf HPU,r* x
j ? av??A \ri M1V.U1I. JL 11VJ UUJ^ 1M |
l" in it. Yon take a slice of "nice Sarato- 1
c ga potato." The hog is all around it in c
n a delicate film, giving it flavor and crisp- t
l* iness. lie is at the uottom of much of I
our dyspepsia and biliousness. "We can- *
l" not escape him. lie is everywhere, dead c
^ or alive. We eat hog, breathe llog; our r
;e midnight slumbers arc disturbed by the \
' yell of his drivers, "making night hide- t
^ ous;" and finally, our htinianc sensibili- i
*s ties arc shocked by his cries, as he is belC
iug offered an unwilling victim to our c
l" swinish appetites. c
lC I have somewhere road that some hca- i;
*? then cosmogonist made the earth to rest B
n on a boar, the boar rested on a turtle, s
'? and the turtle on an elephant, and the el- t
r- i a. j!.i ?a x ?
ujjiiuutf uiu not rest on anytiling. VYo n
n take the liberty to question this theory; [j
>" but it is quite unquestionable tlmt the o
world of Christendom rests to a certain (i
e extent, commercially and dietctically, g{
upon the hog, which the great lawgiver i
'? and writer of the first five books of the ft
^ Bible absolutely prohibited, and that r>
? too, doubtless, for sanitary reasonn, w
s which are everlasting and immutublo.? h
n Ben Perley Poore. Bi
A Penny Fraud. *
In the year 1804 there wfcre very few j
pence coined at the mint, says an English : ^
u paper. This arose simply from the fact j.
c that there was little or no demand foi .
61
0 them. A short time ago this fact seemi
o to have dawned upon some ingenius per* ^
sons supposed to be the flower-sellerj
n round the Bank of England. It is cer- ^
tain that the subsequent "bullying thf
,s market" commenced with them. Thi
? story became circulated that through acjt
oident or .oversight a quantity of gold j
had become mixed with the bronze used
. I CI
i; for coining, and that this had been madt ' ^
d into pence in that year. Those in thi! ^
,f fraud?for fraud it was?eagerly offered j ^
m woiwnoo aniftpft for ns nwnv ?r>n. .
. r - -I- J 1 fl(
,1 nies as they could obtain. The story got ^
11 ibroad. Everybody endeavored to go'
these coins, and the original collector)
ic rapidly sold their pennies at threo anc
it four times their value. The fact thft1
: there are comparatively few penco o:
that year in circulation materially assist <
?; -d the deception, and the "speculators' fa
> lid a good trade. It is perhaps needles
t <> say that there is not an iota of trut) re
.a tho story of the gold. j bi
lakes^f~fTre!
(Extinction or the Greatest Volcano
in the World.
'A Description of the Fiery Beds Which
Make up the Crater of Killanea.
Recent advices from the Sandwich Is-^
lands to the effect that there was no
more /ire in tin*crater of Killanea, if true,
means that tht; largest active volcano of
the planet had been snuffed out. Tho
now lake of molten lava of llalcmaumau,
wliieh is mentioned as having disappeared,
has not been in existence many years,
and the period of volcanic activity and
.earthquakes, which accompanied its formation,
immediately preceded the last
great eruption from the neighboring
crater on the summit of Mauna Loa in
November of 1880.
The island of Hawaii, which is the
southmoHt of the Hawaiian or Sandwich
group, is in the form of two great twin
peaks, Mauna Loa and Manur Kea,
each of which risen to an elevation
of nearly 14,0')'> feet. On the summit
of Mauna Loa n a crater which is intermittently
active. On the slope of
Mauna Loa is the crater of Kilauea (Lake
of Firej. Kilauea is unique among the
volcanoes of the world. It is situated in ?
a great pit in the Hide of Manna Lon,
1,200 feet deep and three miles in diame- y
tor, the walls of whieh are almost pcrpcn- \
dicuhir, bo that they can only be dc- /'
sccnded where zigzag pathways have
been made. The lakes of fire which
make up the volcano of Kilauea are in the
southern end of the pit. There is nt all
times more or less volcanic activity in
these pits, and they are constantly changing
in form and position. In the ordinary
condition of the volcano people can descend
the sides of the great pit and walk
over the floor to the lakes. The floor is
black as coal and so hot that it scorches
shoe leather. There arc great seams in it
ftt intervals, from which issue steam and
sulphurous smoke.
The shores of the lakes themselves are
high and steep. One can go close to the
edge on the windward side, and by holding
a hat in front of the face or wearing
a mask, peep over at the infernal bubbling
which is going on in the abyss. *'
The surface of the lakes, when quiet, is
covered with a thin layer of black, newly
hardened lava. The surface is never
quiet long nor over its whole extent. A
pulsating mound makes its appearance at
some point and swells by slow degrees,
until cracks appear running from the
upex. The fiery molten lava appears
welling up through these cracks; the layer
over the surface breaks into great
[jakes, and tilting on edge, these cakes1
iennnoor o*wl **?11 "*
?uuvi mc swmiowea up uy tne
red liquid underneath, which boils and *
bubbles and sputters in the vent it has
found, throwing up spray which is caught
ay the wind and spun out as fine as silk,
[n this condition it is found in crevices of
-lie lava on the banks, looking much like
junches of blond hair. The native Ha vaiians
term this stuff Pele's hair, Pole
jeing the goddess supposed to inhabit
his Halc-inau-mau (House of Everlasting
?ire). Natives who visit the spot throw
:oins or edibles into the lake to appease
he wrath of the goddess. The high
>anks of the lakes arc swallowed up in
he seething cauldron below. In periods
>f great activity the surface of the lakes
ises and sometimes overflows the banks,
vhen a long stream of lava creeps over
lie floor of the great pit, disposing itself
n smooth folds like giant taffy.
Kilauea is 4,000 feet above the sea lev1,
and is about twenty miles from thorntor
nn onmm?f ^T 1 ' *
...U a.tuuuiu ui iiiuuuil ljOU wmca
3 over 9,000 feet higher. Yet there
eems to be some connection between the
umrait crater and the vent in the side of
he mountain. During the summer
lontlis of 1880 there was great activity
a Kilauea and several severe earthquake*
n the Island of Hawaii. The new fire
ike of Halemaumau, which the report
ays has disappeared, made its appear nee
during this period. One night in
foveraber of that year an eruption broke
ut on the summit of Mauna Loa a
rith a loud explosion, and tho streams of
iva came pouring down the mountain
ide in floods. The country through
rhich it came was wild, an impenetrable
opical forest. In the first nights after
le eruption broke out, the stream could
e seen from far out at sea, looking
ke a fiery serpent lying on the mountain
de. As the months went on, the upper
art of t^ie stream cooled on the surface
ad crusted over, serving as a conduct to
wry the liquid to the terminus of the
ow, where it broke out and pushed its
av more slowly. The flow of lava con- - I
nued into the summer of 1881, when it
opped about a quarter of a mile from
le little tropical town of Hilo, having
iten its way sixty miles through the ^
irest, which was utterly swallowed ui> ""
i its pntli. No such flow of lava had
>mc from Mauna Loa since tho great
dw of 1950, which rcachcd tho sea?
rew York Sun.
Bat aud Bawl.
Stern Parent?Here, here I What's all
lis racket? Mirror broken, two vases
2molished?what are you doing?
Small Son?"We were just practicing .
ir the match next week.
<rVory well; just come up into the garit
and Til exercise you. I'll find tlx?
it and you can furnish the bawl."