The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, September 14, 1886, Image 7
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; < LADIES' COLUMN.
Mrs. Cleveland in Church.
"When Mrs. Cleveland goes to church,n
toys a"Washington lotter to tlio Memphis
Avalanche, "as soon as sho enters tho
pew and takes a seat, she drops her
pretty head upon her daintily gloved
hand and devotes a moment to silent i
prayer. Then she settles herself for a '
quiet attention upon tho service. She i
knows, of coursr, that she is the target J
of every eye in the church, and, though J
she tries to conceal her embarrassment, |
she is not able to do so entirely. When !
it. . i. - ? . 1 .1. . i .j 1
nit; [jusrtur j^ivua uut tat' nyiini :snu is
to turn her attention to the hymn-book 1
and forget the tlacornfortnblc feeling |
which is the natural result of being j
stared at. When the minister leatls in prayer j
her head is bowed, aud it drops a littles j
lower when he prays for 'the chief magis- i
tratc of the nation' and adds a petition
for 'those that are dear to him.' She
docs not fidget about and lean up in the
corner and rest her head upon her hand :
as Grover docs, but sits straight and quiet,
listening to the sermon from beginning
to end. Of course she fans herself constantly,
for she would not be a ^oman if
she did not. When the basket goes
nrnnnrl oVtn /Irnno J/vr?
w.1 WUUIUUV1UU "luu"
estly into it, and when the closing hymn
-? is given out, finds not only the hymn but
the doxology corresponding in metre
with it, nnd follows them closely to the
end. When the services end, every neck
is craned to get a look at her face and
figure. She tries to appear unconcerned,
bows to the church people near her
whom she knows, talks a little to thoso
nearest her, and is evidently relieved
when the carriage door bangs and she is
hidden from view of the crowd that was
gathered on the sidewalk to see her pass
from the church door to the carriage.
Throughout, her conduct is full of dignity
and gentle grace."
A Romantic Wedding.
Herman Krause and Anna Ecschenbach,
each of whom was born in the little
German town of Friedcrichsaw on the
Rhine about thirty-eight years ago, and
n uuou j^ui/uuai uuiui nuu ouian auLjuaiuLanee
with the English language indicated
that they were strangers to these shores,
were married yesterday by Mayor YVhitney
in his office in the City Hall, Brooklyn.
The Mayor and Secretary Phillips
v each kissed the bride and wished the
couple all kinds of prosperity. It was
not until after they had gone that the
Mayor learned that the marriage was the
climax of a long and romantic attachment.
The story is that Herman and
Anna, when a boy and a girl together in
the little town on the Rhine, had fallen
in love. When the Franco-German war
broke out Herman becamo a soldier
and Anna, with equal patriotism,
accompanied his corps as a nurse
in gono of the Red Cross Hospital
wagons. Early in the campaign Herman,
with a 6coro of his comrades, were
mown down by a French shell, and being
supposed to be dead, he was buried with
others in a trench. During the night
Anna went to the trench and dug up the
body of her supposed lover. To her
surprise he showed signs of life. He
was sent to the hospital and he recovered.
Anna's grief, however, was intense
when she was informed that an injury
to his skull was of such a nature |
that he could never recover his reason.
Years rolled on, Krausc remaining in a j
military hospital and Anna in her native j
village. Her father had meanwhile come !
. I
to this country, and nearly two years ago,
in despair of ever seeing Krause restored
to reason, she joined him in Brooklyn.
Last fall a German physician succeeded
in performing an operation on Krause's
skull, which brought it back to its normal
condition, and this restored his reason.
He then thought of the girl who
had followed him to the war and saved
his life, and he never rested until he
found her in this country.
The marriage followed as a matter of j
course. Mayor Whitney, who believes |
the story, says it is not more improbable |
thnn other tales of love and war which j
he has heard.?New York Sun.
f Fashion Notes.
White silk stor kings are quite the thing
as a novelty in foot wear.
Corduroy is the most desirable material
for boys' knockabout suits.
Black jersey silk gloyes are embroidered
on the back in fine jets.
The skirts of pongee dresses have a
broad band of colored velvet at the bottom.
Black lace skirts are worn with bojlices
of colored crepe de chine, silk, satin or ,
tuuiio nuuijuu.
Wide white Ilercules bri\id friuged and
knotted at the ends is used as sash belts
for little girls.
Turkish crepes are among the prettiest
inexpensive cotton dress goods. Laces
trim them admirably.
Afternoon dresses of faille veiled with
Jace have overdresses of figured silk,{having
the same colored ground as tho
[plain faille.
Deep collars of lace reaching to the
jshoulders are worn with afternoon
(dresses. They are finished about the
Wj'/' fthroat with a band and bow of the vel'
y Ivet or ribbon with which the dress is
[trimmed. _
The Australian colonies are all legislating
against the Chinese.
Vv ' ' ' . {'
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i WESTERN SAHARA.
a VAST EXPANSE OF STEUILE
COULVTUY IN CALIFORNIA.
InhnbittKl Only by Coyotes, Lizards
and. Snakes?Miniature Vol1
?:anoc.4? Mirage and
Sand Storms.
Occupying the southeastern tingle or
Palifornia is a vast expanse of dry and
Iterile country, the northern portion of
tvliich is known as the Mohave Desert,
and the (southern as the Colorado Desert,
[n the absence of natural landmarks, the
dividing line between the two is a little
indefinite. They are, however, about
equal in extent, and cover altogether
lortiL* thirty thousand square miles: their
exterior boundaries, except <on the cast,
tvbero the}* border on the Colorado River,
being not very sharply defined.
The summer heat on this California
Rahara is more than tropical. The thermoji.ctcr
during the day marks from 123
lo 150 degrees in the shade. Topographi
ally, this region may be described as a
hv,--lying plain, the greater part of it being
elevated but little above sea-level,
tvhile some portions arc depressed below
lhat level. Scattered over this plain are
flusters of basaltic mountains, dark and
icraggy; isolated buttes, low, irregular
lulls and ever-shifting ridges of sand.
The plain itself is of a sedimentary or
marine or'gin; the more olevated lands
have resulted from igneous agencies.
These buttes are, in fact, nothing but
the cones of dead volcanoes, and the depressed
surfaces simply the beds of driedup
seas.
There arc two of these low-lying basins
within the limits of this southeastern
wilderness. One. the site of the salses.
or mud volcanoes, is situated ou the
Colorado Desert, in the vicinity of Dos
Palmas Station, on the Southern Pacific
Railroad. The other, known as Death
Valley, is located on the northern border
of the Mohave Desert, 200 miles further
to the north. The former is seventy feet
below the level of the sea. and the latter
150. The two cover an area of several
thousand square miles. In the basin of
the salses. miniature volGanoes forming
iind dissolving, and the hot gases escaping
from innumerable vents, denote
there the continuance of a feeble solfataric
action.
Owing to the presence of extensive
salines, and the rapid evaporation that
here occurs, the mirage is frequently
seen on these deserts, appearing sometimes
in great perfection. These optical
allusions take on here not only the sem
oiance ot real objects, but also at times
many weird and fantastic forma. Lying
off in tho hazy atmosphere are. seen
what seem to be pellucid lukes, dotted
with islands and indented with headlands.
Stretching away in the mist are
green moadows and groves, with palatial
structures and castellated ruins beyond.
While we look, the scene undergoes a
strange transformation, and taking on
less familiar and pleasing shapes, slowly
fades away?cloudland of youth?emblem
of human hope?!
A peculiarity of this wilderness climate
is the sand-storm, a meteorological
phenomenon not * unlike the simoon
that prevails in Arabia and other parts of
Africa. It consists of a strong wind,
amounting sometimes to a gale, coining
up with a black cloud that obscures
the sun, fills the atmosphere so completely
with sand and dust that vision is
obscured, thirst greatly increased, and
respiration renacrca extremely difficult.
The stifling air, the darkness, the
strangeness of the entire surroundings,
611 the traveler with a dread that inclines
him to stop and shelter himself as
be>t he can from the effects of the gale.
JiJven animals are so oppressed with fear
When exposed to the sirocco that thew
stop in their traeks and obstinately r?fuse
to go.
Having raged for a day or two, the
wind ceases to blow, the dust clouds settle,
the air clears up, and the sun, shining
out with its accustomed fierccnca-5,
restores to the leaden sky its former
bra en aspect. Swept by the blast, the
sand dunes shift like the billows of the
ocean, vanishing in one place and reappearing
in another with each recurring
tempest. These simoons, though hardly
less terrifying than the thunder storms
that visit in the summer time countries
further east, are by no means so refreshing.
Very misleading to the stranger are the
maps of this region, with their arroyos
and rivers, their lakes and springs, laid
down thereon at convenient intervals.
It is well to supply, as far as may be, the
deficiencies of nature, wherever we find
them; wherefore, one appreciates the
motive of| he topogaapber in his endeavor
to represent this arid and forbidding
country as it should be, even
while one has to lament that these ad
ditions arc almost wholly mythical. Tho
only stream of any size in this entiro
Edom is tho so-called Mohave River,
which, as if abashed at the unmerited
honor conferred upon it, hastens to hide
itself in the sand, asserting its presence
? ? ?
tuen-aiicr oniy in a scries of modest
pools, -which, standing apart along its
faintly marked bed, grow smaller and
smaller, and finally disappear altogether.
Of the few springs that have an actual
existence here the water in some is so
impregnated with salt, soda or othe
,V.Vy'-/v ' '''jf ** V* A*i' $ i f
deleterious mineral that it ia wholly unfit
to drink.
Traveling these deserts, more particularly
in the neighborhood of the mountains,
are numerous deep ravines, having
steep sidos and broad, evenly sloping
bottoms. They are tho creations of the
j cloud-bursts which are not uncommon
J here, and which, when they occur, fill
! these channels with water in a very few
; minutes. The Hood, which soon sub!
sides, carries down great quantities of
| sand and grnvel; but the gieater portion I
I is swi'pt down and deposited at its i
i month, where it forms moraines stretch- J
ing far out into the plain bolow. A. rav!
ine so eroded and afterward partially
; filled up is called a "wash"?"ar:oyo
j seco" of the Spaniards.
So far ai running streams or useful
: forests arc concerned, this may i>c called
\ a waterless and a timberless land. Tin
! only trees found growing in it, savesomf
[ willow nud cotton-wood along the Colorado
River, consist of the several varictiet
, of the palm, a wurthless wood, and th(
| mesquite, which, though useless for luiu
I ber, makes an excellent fuel. Bunch
! grass of a nutritious kind is found growing
over a large portion of these deserts;
i sparsely in some places and very abundj
antly in others. Much of the soil here is,
J in fccfc, exccecHngly fertile, aud with
! irrigation capable of producing large
crops of both fruit and grain; its sterility
is due only to its dryness. The cactus
of many varieties abounds. It is a vile
shrub, detested alike by man and brute.
Reptili 8 take shelter under it, but do not
feed upon it. The only animals that
abide in these fields of desolation are
hares, rabbits, and coyotes. There are
no Indians; even the Digger can not live
here. Birds are rarely seen. The reptile
family is represented by the lizard,
the horned tood, and the rattlesnake.?
j Orerlar.d Monthly.
; Queer Tavern.
I George Wickham, the brother of exi
Mayor Wickham, who has just returned
j from Europe and dazzled the other diamond
merchants with the splendor of
' hi3 importations, describes an eccentric
I establishment in Shoreditch, London,
known as "Dirty Dick's." The original
proprietor would not have the spiders
disturbed nor the floor swept, and was
imitated by a chop house in Thames
street, New York. But he had other peculiarities
which are not observed by his
successors. No person could be served
twice at his bar on the same day. Wags
who tried to deceive the landlord by
walking out and then coming back
through another door, with their coat
collars turned up and their hats tipped
41 1 4l??l *\w.
| over tneir eyes, uiscovuruu mac mu innkeeper
was keen enough to detect them,
and that the rule was inflexible. All
drinks were the same price. For threepence
you might take a glass of ale. of
gin, of brandy or of champagne. The
queer tavern in a street of London, which
corresponds to our Bowery, was the first
place in which champagne was sold by
the glass. As patent corks were not yet
invented, the cranky proprietor preferred
to spoil a whole pint of the wine rather
than violate his own regulation about
prices.?New York Star.
History of Coffee.
j It was somewhat singular to trace the
j maimer in which arose the now common
: beverage of coffec, without which few
persons, in :injr nan or luuy civur/ea
| country in thu world, make breakfast.'
! At the time Columbus discovered America
it had never been known or used. It
grew only in Arabia and Upper Ethiopia.
The discovery of its use as a beverage is
ascribed to the superior of a monastery
in Arabia, who, desirous of preventing
the monks from sleeping at their nocturnal
services, made them drink the infusion
of coffee upon the reports of .shepherds,
who observed that their llocks
were more livel}' after browsing on the
j fruit of that plant. Ita reputation spread
through the adjacent countries, and in
200 years it reached Paris. A single
plant, brought there in 1814, became the
parent stoc'.i of French coffee plantations
in the West Indies. The Dutch introduced
it into Java and the East Indies.
The extent of the consumption now can
hardly be realized.
There is trouble over the famous Navarro
flats in New York, the model and
mammoth apartment buildings that were
i to revolutionize methods of living, minimize
the inconveniences and annoyances
md afford the maxima of comfort, luxary
and convenience for housekeepers.
The plan doesn't appear to have proved
wholly successful, and the insurance
company which holds a mortgage of $1,)4
0,000 on the buildings is to foreclose
Its claim, while sums aggregating $40,D0i)
are due for taxes, water-rent and
:>ther incidentals. The condition of affairs
seems to indicate that there is a line
in apartment-house building which it
isn't safe to pass. Persons who can afford
to pay for such accommodations as
ihe Navarro plan promised not unnatu#
A 1 . it. .1..
rnuy proior 111 moBc eases 10 own infur
>wn houses.
A Pittsburg builder of cheap houses
uses matched flooring instead of lath and
plaster. On this cotton cloth is glued,
md on the cloth wall paper is pasted.
This he claims is better and cheaper than '
plaster, and thus houses can be built
In cold weather. )
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[ RELIGlblJS READING.
Mystery of Chastisement.
"Wo glory il tribulatiou also."? Horn. 5:3.
Within thi| leaf, to every eye
So little wtrlli, doili.hiddeu lij
Most rare mdsubtilo frugiaucy.
"Wouldst tk>u its secret strength unbind?'
Crush it, u\d tb- u shalt jwrfume (ind
Sweet as Arabia's spicy wind.
Inlbisdul stone, so poor, nn<l bare
Ot aIim|)o >r instre, patient core
"Will tiui for Lheea jewet rare.
But first >mst skillful hands oss.iy,
"Willi tilennd fl nt, to clear away
'1'b.i tihuwldch bides iU> lire i rom da}r.
Tills leal? this stone? It is thy heart;
It must ije crushed by pain and smart,
It must ie cleansed by sorrow's art.
Ero it will yield a fragrance sweet,
Ero it will shine a jewel meet
To lay before thy dear Lord's feet.
?Hymns of the Ages:
What You Cam 1?o.
Every follower of Christ can do a great
deal of good if he only tries. It is not
that his talent is small, but that ii^ does
not use it, stands in the way of ones
fulness. The Ilev. Spencer Compton tel's
of an experience at sea that well sets
forth the good that one can do with a
little means, if its possessor only is willing
and quick-witted enough to make use
of them. There was a cry on deck ol
'Man overboard !" Mr. Compton was ia
his cnbiu. He felt that he would be
useless on deck, but thinking of what he
could do, he seized upon the idea ol
holding his lamp close to the window, sc
that its light would shine out upon the
sea. In a moment he heard tho cry, "It's
all right 1" That timely light had shown
the sailors where to cast the knotted rope
so that it reached the man struggling ia
the water. It was merely ai little lamp,
but what if he had not used it? Shine
your light, and many may yet glorify
your Father which is iu Heaven. A
steadily shining little Lamp is better than
an unused eleetric light with a. fortyfoot
reflector.
Uae the Bridle.
A bridle is very nccessary in guiding
and restraining an unruly horse; and it
is very needful in controlling that unruly
member, the tongue. "Don't go without
the bridle, boys," was my grandfather's
favorite bit of advice. If he heard any
one cursing or swearing, or given to
much vain and foo'.ish tulle, "that man
has lost his l?rid!:\" he would say.
"Without a bridle the tongue, though a
little member, 'boasteth great things.
It is an unruly member, 'full of deadly
poison.' Put a bridle on, and it is one
of the best servants body and soul can
have.' 'I wjII keep my mouth with a
bridle,' said King David. Be sure, too,
to keep a bridle on your appetite. Don't
let it be your master. And don't neglect
to have one for your passions, or they
will get unmanageable, driving you down
a headlong corns.; to ruin." My grandfather
was speaking of the bridle of selfgovernment.
Good parents try to train
and restrain their children; and you cau
generally tell by the children's behavior
whether they have such wise and faithful
parents. But parents cannot do
everything. Boys uud girls must have
their owu bridles; they must learn to
check and govern themselves. Selfgovernment
is the most difficult and the
most important government to teach of
us; hut it becomes easier every day if
you practice it with a steady, resolute
will, and a firm trust in Him who alone
can tench us wisely to rule our own spirits.?N.
Y. Observer.
The fruit of th? ljpi.
God says: ' 'I creatc the fruit of the
lips." Isa. lvii. 19. True and loving
words are like the ripe fruit that falls
from a good tree. All &urh trees God
creates now, as lie made the first trees
that grew in Eden. How much more
beautiful is this inspired figure than the
fable of the fairy whose words were liko
pearls falling from her lips. Penrls aro
beautiful, but fruit is both beautiful and
nutritious. Wo need something to feed
i upon as well as something to admire.
| The starving traveller in the desert who
i found a ba<r of diamonds was. disaD
pointed. "Oh that it were a bag of
beans!" lie cried. And so when we hear
eloquent speeches that are as cold as icebergs,
we turn away with a gnawing
hunger at the heart. Wc say, oh that
these trees were like those which God
made to grow in His garden, not only
"pleasant to the sight," but "good for
food."
We thought of this divino figure one
Sabbath morning. We were in the great
congregation. We hung, with thousands
! of other hearers, upon the lips of a man
of God. lie spoke as if those lips had
been touchcd with a live coal from the
altar. His prayers lifted our souls up
Into the presence-chamber of God. We
sccmcu to Bianu oy mo tnrone 01 grace,
and hear the voice of Jesus interceding
for us. And then the sermon. It was
so thoughtful, so Scriptural, so rich in
its expressions of the truth, so mellow
in its manifest experiences of the truth,
so sweet in its spirit of charity and
brotherly love 1 We felt as if we wore
in some noble orchard, sitting under the
1 shade of a tree loaded with fruit, whose
branches bent down until wo could rcach
and pluck all that we needed. As we
feasted on thoso "words of life" we
thought such trees God only can create.
A true minister, who feeds his people
"with knowledge and understanding,"
is the gift of God aa really as the treca
of paradise. And such ministers are like
trees, also, because they require growth
and culture. A scion just set out in tho
orchard does not furnish fruit for many
fears. It will have a few leaves the first
senson. But it must be dug about and
fertilized and pruned and watered and
kissed by the sun, again and again, seaion
after season, ere tho full fruitage apnonrs.
And so the mnn wliom Ann ralla
to teach and comfort His people must
not only bo converted, and thus becomo
\ plant of righteousness, but ho must
itudy and pray. He must be tomptcd
and disciplined until he learns that thcro
is no wisdom but that which comes from
God, and no strength but in Him. It is
In this way that Qod creates the fruit of
the lips, by raising up and training men
to speak for Him. Let, then, all who
have faithful and wise and loving pastors
five Qod the glory and the praise.?In&Jfiis?;V.%MPV
t
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HIS PRIVATE. GRAVEYARD, \
A. CURIOSITY OP LIFE IN THE IN- !
DIAN TERRITORY.
j Tho Cottonwood Boards at Jones's
Station, and What They Signified.
OiM * ?
vu?i& j Aiia-ji i|;i/iUiin.
i A letter from Jones's-Station, Indian
Territory, to the New York Sun says: ;
; The traveler in these parts encounters , <
j some curious people. When we rcachcd j ]
! here last night it was too dark to see \
j anything outside of the old house which I j
! it was 8;iid was "Jones's." .Jones himself, i <
1 an early settler was hospitably inclined, j <
and. though rough and peculiar, was not J |
one to suggest unpleasant suspicions, i ,
| Iiising early this morning, I looked out j ,
j of the one window in my room, and per- j
ceived in the grass not far away a num- ; ,
i bcr of cottonwood boards standing up- j ,
' right, with marks on each which I could j 1
; not decipher. At first I thought a shed
i of some kind had stood there, but at last I ,
| the idea dawned upon me that the place ' ;
i was a graveyaid. i ,
! After breakfast,which was well served ]
I by Jones's wife aud blooming daughter, , ,
! the latter as neat and comely a girl as (
j one would care to see, I walked to the
front of the house with Jones and asked I
him what those boards in the rear of the (
house were. Jones looked puzzled for a j ,
minute and started off to see for himself. (
I fol'owing. Just a* he turned the corner
of ihc l.ouse he stopped short and ex- ,
, claimed rather petulantly, I thougth:
j 4,Oh, that there's my private cemetery, j .
my own cemetery. Everybody has one
out here. I ain't had any use for it for !
j so long that I almost forgot it was out
I there. The grass is getting pretty high, j
j and my eyesight ain't what it >.as, but | *
I that's it, stranger. It's a cemetery." I
< I wanted to inspect the place a little j
| oloser, and had a great curiosity to know . I
more about it, which Jones appears to I
have recognized, for he moved on with 11
me through the tall grass until we came I
to the grave ?. On the board at the head '
of the first grave was this: '
I : One Eyed Man. : *
: Killed Sept 22, 1874. Jim Soars. :
i
"That," said Jones, "is all I know j
about him. He came here one night i '
and got into a fight with Jim, and Jim j J
laid him out, leaving him here on my | J
hands. I'm sort of systematic in my '
ways, and so, thinking that perhaps some j j
one would want him, I marked that, j
stick, and set it up so that I could tell , J
which was which. You see at first I !
didn't go to that trouble, because I could i '
carry them, all in my mind, but after a I .
while I got a little mixed, and to be sure i ;
about them I just adopted this plan, j
Jim Sears was a very reckless fellow, but ; 1
he meant well." :
"He appears to have been a good cus- ;
tomer ot yours." I said, as I moved along j 1
a peg and read aloud this inscription: ;
i
: Kiowa Charley. : j
: March 15, 1876. Jim Sears. : I
I I 1
"0hv woll, yes," said Jones. "Jim
I was bore a good deal in his day. He 1
was always on. the go, the queerest chap 1
you ever saw,, mighty quick with his gun, !
aud alwaya anxious to get the drop on
somebody. He'd drink a quart of whisky
easy at a time. Hero's another man ! j
in here somewhere that he left me. Yes,
that's him, right there; that one marked
Greaser." I didn't know his name.
Jim killed him here before breakfast one
morning, and gave me $5 to plant him."
"Where is Jinx now?" I ventured to
ask.
1 * i "* ? * * - '
; jones iooKea arouna, snaamgms
; closed eyes with, a hairy list, as lie replied:
"I've got him, in. here somewhere. He
came up here on the warpath a few years
ago, and got laid out. There was a ball'
here, a?d several, of the boys were over1
from Ferguson's ranch They knew all' |
about Jim, and when he tried to get a j
bead 011 one of them two others dropped' '
him from behind. It was about the J
prettiest piece of work that was ever. |
done here, if I clo say it. Jim never !
moved. I dragged him out myself and' i
planted him the next morning. Did you !
read what his monument says? I threw !
myself on that."
I leaned over, and with some difficulty
deciphered tho following:
Jim Sears *
Killed by Ferguson's Boys, 1881.
; He was ;
; The Terror of the TraiL *; :
This monument erocted over his bones ;
: By one of bis friends,old Jake Jones. :
I xviier tjA|>rc?aiug mjr aprrojai OI tills
inscription I passed along and studied
the other headboards. One was a blank,
and after I had looked at it for some
time Jones said:
"You won't find anything on that
board. That's a plain one. I know
who's in there, and the man who is there
knows what brought hiiu there. He
came here and tried to coax my daughter ,
off and I fixed him. That wouldn't have ,
been necessary, perhaps,-only he thought {
he could scare me by making believe draw ,
a gun. I only had a knife, but he got (
the whole of it clean through him. My ^
girl didn't like it, and I came near hav- ^
ing a row with her. Still, she is a good
girl, and I'll stand by her. That's the ,
only one I ever put here myself. All the (
others came to me, and some of the kill- <
ings didn't even happen in my place.
Here's one, for instance, that was brought ,
here by the hoys from Campbell's place,
and that's the monument they put up
themselves."
I read on the weather-beaten stick:
; 1
: Sacrod to the memory of Johnny Head. :
; Once he was kicking, but now he's dead. :
; He figured in not less than twenty shoots, :
; Then got it in the neck, and died in his I
; boots. June 27, 1883. :
"Over here is another," said Jones.
wThe boys were all *?sre one night, and
they had a shooting, in which Babe Carter
got it between the eyes. They fixed
up mis board for him that night, and I
have left it there."
In very plain characters the inscription ]
was: !
1
: Babe Carter died here : H
: In the spring of tbu year : i
; With a bullet between the eyes. : ]
If any one will stand still : ,
: And yell "Let's drink!" with a will, :
: It's probable that he will rise. 1 \
; 1
Over in one corner of the graveyard, 1
? <'!-; ' n N V$?
, jivzu&i '5 > {; " ^ * .<* A.
. . ' ' ,
V
in a little pTace tliat appeared to have
been set apart, and which bore evidence
5f having been cared for at ono time,
was a grave marked with a board on
which was written:
I Dial August 15$, 1871), '
: "There is rest for tbo weary." I
As Jones began to tell me about tlie
occupant of this grave he headed for the
house, and wo walked slowly away together.
"That was a girl." he said, a*
if he thought 1 might imagine that Flora
was the name of some desperado. "She
came through here that summer looking
for her husband. She was from Illinois
somewhere, and he was a bad egg, I
guess. Two or three times she stopped
liere, always getting thinner and paler
and sadder. My old woman took pity
on her arid found out what she was up to.
Then we tried to lind her man, but it
was no go. You can't put your finger
on a fellow that's wanted in these parts.
She stayed here several weeks, watching
everybody that passed, and at last, as
hope and strength faded away, she fell
sick and died. "We buried her out there,
and my wife told me what to put on the
board, which I reckon ain't bad. Flora
was a nice girl, but she didn't have no
aand. That's what I wanted to put on
the board, but Mrs. .Tones objected: She
Baid that wheu women died here she was
going to write the boards, and as that
seemed reasonable I let her do it. That's
the only one, though*.and I.hope-there'll
never bo another."
care or reetn.
A mouthful of good teeth is one of the
are gifts of nature. Like bright eyes,
jink-mooned finger-nails, or a fine com*
ileqion, they indicate the bequests of
leredity, and are. symbolic of a sweet
jreath, good digestion and a wholesome
itomach. A wealth of dentine is not as
lighly prized as formerly, owin<* to the
emarkable progress made in dentistry
within the last quarter of a century.
Molar-menders think nothing of working
l cheval-de-frise sort of a set of teeth
nto a double row of most presentable
vories, and the skill with which china
;eeth are made to duplicate nature is suficient
to keep the genuine articles under
l constant ban of suspicion. All these
'acts wore doubtless known to the fashonable
mother who prayed for "just
jood eyes and a fine complexion" for her
ittle daughter. Eyas and skin from
lature, and art can manage the rest, at
east to the satisfaction of the modern
beauty.
In remodeling teeth, everything fails
before the final surrender to a false set.
Where they overlap space ha? to be made
it the sacrifice often of good material,
ind when, by accident, a tooth is wanted,'
the gap is tilled by spacing the wholo
:ow.
T n iVtn rtrtl rtf 4-nnfVt 01 m Aof O a
XU Lug Vyl/tui \Jk WCCblA UlUiVOb OO UiUX/U
variety exists as in hair and eyc9. Some
teeth are naturally grey, yellowish or
bluish in cast, and to try to whiten them
is time wasted. The only solace lies in
keeping them clean. and straight. It is
immaterial to any one with a moustache
5r a very long upper lip, whether he has
any front teeth or not. With ladies or
beardless men, especially those who
laugh much with the lips, a remedy is
sought among the Del s'Arte people.
These refiners- of nature attempt, and
with success, too, to cultivate a very low
voice in speaking, forbid the license of
heated discussion, and endeavor to cultivate
a laugh in the eyes, rather than
about the lips. The training is a long
and tedious task,, but there are few ordeals
too severe far a fashionable man or
woman to> endure, when the goal is good
looks.
It is almost impossible to say anything
new on the subject of powders. The
best powder is the one that does the least
barm to the gums and keeps the enamel
clean. Wintergreen is safe as any polish,
but a frequent use of soft brush and
warm water renders much of that cleansinc
nnwder auncrfluous. Teeth that are
brushed four times a day will not need a
powder more than once a week. Toothpicks
are indispensable, and even with
them it is often necessary to run a thread
between the teeth to remove any possible
Accumulation or splinter.
There might be a diminution of dentistry
bills if those who have teeth would
take the trouble to clean them once a
month. Five cents' worth of pumice
stone will cover a year, and nothing but
a match is needed to start with. Dip
the pine in the stone and rub above and
between the teeth till all trace of mineral
accumulation has been removed. The
inside surface must be eleaned separ*f1
*r at?r1 t)io toclr Aniafind Itv ruhhina
the face and crown of the tooth with a
10ft handkerchief dipped in the powder.
Unless the operation is made habitual it
mil consume the best part of an hour to
oroduce any good effects.?Inter- Ocsan.
Animals Doctoring: Themselves.
A French physician and savant says
that animals are as ?ood practitioners of
medicine as a majority of the human
species, and that in hygiene man may
take a lesson from them. Elephants,
jtags, birds and ants wash themselves or
bathe. Some animals get rid of parasites
by the use of dust, mud or clay. Those
suffering from fever restrict their diet,
keep quiet, seek darkness and airy places,
drink water, and sometimes plungo
into it.
If a dog loses his appetite, he eats
"dog's grass." Sheep when ill seek out
certain herbs, and puss also finds an
smetic or a purgutivo in a certain species
jf grass or herbs. When a dog is constipated,
he eats fatty substances with
ividity. An animal suffering from rheumatism
keeps in the sun. The warrior
ints have ambulances, and when an investigator
cut the antennae of an ant,
>ther ants covered the wound with a
transparent fluid, from their mouths.
\ wounded chimpanzee stops the bleeding
of a wound by placing leaves
md grass on the wound. A dog
>n being stung on the muzzle by a viper,
plunged his head repeatedly for several
lays in running water, and recovered. A
iporting dog was run over by a carriage.
During three weeks in winter he re
named lying in a brook, whore his food
was taken to him, and lie also recovered.
i. terrier dog hurt his right cyo. He renamed
lying under a counter, avoiding
ight and heat, although ho, had previ- ,
nisly been in tho habit of hooping close
jo tho flro. He rested, abstained from
"ood, licked his paw? and applied It to
;he wounded eyo.
y'-M
1 *9