The people. (Barnwell C.H., S.C.) 1877-1884, March 27, 1884, Image 1
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jittan and eoamnnic*-
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M ^ toeeU, ukd tbe object of each
eWrlytadJceted by n^ownry note when
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One lack, coc
•* - eacb
t. Article* for pobUcetlon^hould be
written In e deer, legible beH^ead on
only one tide of the pege.
4, All ehangee in adTertiaemenU mn»t
rachna on Friady,
•: %/**>■**'?
. liberal
Ora toad adrertiting la payable 10
day* after first inwrtum, Biuew other*
wire ati pa la ted.
Ho eoanaanlcetiee will
inloae acooaapanied by the
VOL. VII. NO. 30.
BARNWELL, C. H., 8. C, THURSDAY. MARCH !CT. 1884.
(2 a Year..
'.reaaof tbe writer, not noeaaaarlly for
gabtieatioe, bat era gaaraaty of food
Addraaa, TJE PEOPLE
Barnwell 0. H. 8. O.
ROSE OF KILL ARNE t.
Ob! fab- are your daughters by Shannon’* blue
water*,
And lovely the maiden* of Clare and Clon
mel ;
And look tbe world over, you’ll fail to discover
Such colleen* to love a* in old Erin dwell;
Yet there ■ none on the inland, in lowlaud or
From the *oft-bosomed lake* to the wild
ocean shore,
Who praise* conld share with, or half way com-
pare with,—-* • 1 :
Nora, my rose of Killarney, asthoro!
Ah, Norsk's the beauty to" love’s more then
duty,
In the glance of her eye there’s a charm and
a spell.
And her voice, like the linnet, lias love's mosn-
- ing in it, * -— -
And rings through my heart like a musica
ton.
Oh, to Who and to win her would turn saint to
sinner;
— • • frw*
Her beauty compels you to kneel and adorn,
But with sighing and suing in vain you come
wooing
Dark Nora, my rose of Killanu-y, asthore !
Youjiear me entn-atiug with heart wildly boat
ing,
You know how I love yon, and still feign
surprise !
I fear you’re deceiving, with glances still weav
ing
Tlmso snares for my life fh your beantifu
eyes.
your hds glisten with team as yun
listen,
r to my bosom and leave me no more !
•T 4 I've but this to give you, love, a heart fond and
tpie, love;
Dark Nora, my rose of Killarney, asthore !
.. » cy«
nor:
A Double Misuiidcrstniidin^
#
One day in last Decemljer Mr. Hamii-
car Tborulove found bis boota soaked
through, and taking them off in his store,
he flung them down to dry. It was an
act of trifling importance to any but a
very discerning mind. Yet it was'
fraught with dire consequence® to Mr.
Thornlove. But what could he know of
the future, poor aonl ?
“What poor soles they make now-a-
days !” he murmured. “I will put on
my alippers and stop into my neighbor
Justout, and see if he can’t settle his
account to day.”
He was a man of bis word and did so.
While he was gone, in came bis
friend* —Paul Hobbledeu, and asked
where Thornlove was. He was told to
wait a few minutes, and while he was
waiting, as he was only an old l>achelor,
accustomed to look only after his own
health—he drew off his boots, toasted
hi* toes for half an lionr, and then, an
gry at waiting so long, hastily shod him*
self, and went away grabbling.
Thorulam soon otter returned, also
cross. Justout was not in, and now he
heard that Hobbledeu was gone out.
This mode him donbly peevish.
“Hobbledeu gone! I wish\e would
stay gone. That man haunta me three
times a week at the house and as often
here. I have known Hobbledeu ever
since before I was married, and he knew
Ophelia before 1 married her 1 Perhaps
that’s why he never got married. Might
be. Sticks to me like a barnacle. Af
ter me so often and nothing particular ro
nay. Perhaps he oomee to see if 1 am
here, that he can go to see Mrs. Thorn-
love. IT1 watch Hobbleden! How the
snow stretches boots I” He drew them
on.
When Thornlove went home that even
ing he felt ngly and tantalizing. He
had caught odd from going in his slip
pers. Ophelia played a pathetic air on
the piano and sang to soothe him.
“Don’t Jo thai. 'Ophelip. Ohy dbn’t
I’d rather hear a funeral sermon.”
“Thought yon liked sentiment,”
“Hate it.”
“Shall I sing something fanny ?”
“No, yon think more of fingering that
old mnsic-trap than you do of me.”
“What shall l say ?”
“Anything—or nothing would suit me
I letter,” he growled. “I^n bound to
have a row I” he reflected.
“You’re as odd as any eld bachelor !”
“Don’t you like ’em?” said he. “Hob
bledeu is one of them."
“Hut he’s an old friepd of onrs.”
“Of ours ?” emphasized Thornlove.
“I should think so. He’s here enough.”
“I suppose the poor man dou’t know
where to go,” said Ophelia, sympa
thetic*! ly.
“I should think he did know where to
go—ke goqg here, that to to say, he
comes here, m regularly as an old owl
to its roost.” -
“It oun’t be that you’re jealous of
Paal Hobbleden, can it?—a man that
you’ve known for so many yean ?” said
she, curioudy..
“No, it can’t,” foptfod he; and then
thought “Ah 1 she’s trying to pomp
me, bat she won’t"
^ have to be pleasant when he
cocoas) mnatn’t be inhospitable, most
I?”
.“Of oooree not Ob, of coarse not
He’s eeaething of a bore, though."
“So are all old bachelors. I wouldn’t
give yon for a hundred of him. Ha,
ha! QMHobbledenT
“She’s Ipnghing a* my simplicity.
Thinks I don’t know it FI! keep my
Pasd WnUBetisn retained to Thorn-
i a weak. This time
-art? jfc
sway so
“Don’t joke,"
“Don’t wear tight lwots."
“Don’t you know a^y remedy for a
com?’’
“Cut your toe off?”
“Yon are inhuman I”
“Any old bachelot who is dandy
enough to wear tight boots ought to have
5orns all over him,”
“Had—had he? Good morning!"
5ried Hobbleden, exasperated. “I’ll see
f I can’t And sympathy somewhere
ilae.” And away he went
•Ood bless tbe com 1” thought Thom-
ove.
“Why don’t Mr. Hobbleden come to
see ua, I wonder?” that evening (•aid
Ophelia to Mr. Thc.nlove, r “I deciare
it seems lonesome without him.” IP*””* 1 me!" said Hobbleden, sarcasti-
With a ghastly smile—he said he knelt
that I ,
The horrible corn gave Pan! Hobble
den such dreadful pain that finally he
repaired to Mr. Chiropedowski, the
great corn-doctor and Polish etile. He
gouged it out for him, with heroic lack
of emotion.
“But these little trifle* sprout again,
don’t they ?” said Hobbleden, handing
the count a greenback with a saw-horse
on it, emblematic of the croee he had
borne. .
“You must wear boots that fit,” said
the chiropodist. “Were these made for
you ?”
“Of coureo! or they wouldn’t have
THE LONDON SENSATION.
* rUBMC SCAN DAI. IN Htcil l.iFfc
-MISS KOKTKSCUB’rt SUIT.
“You’ll have a chance to keep feeling
lonesome for some time to oome. I do
not think he’ll ever darken these doors
again.”
“You don’t mean he’s dead?”
“Not quite, my love; he was lively
enough this morning; be was corned.
Ha, ha 1”
“Intoxicated? Poor fellow ! Lonely,
I suppose.”
“Poor fellow I That’s pret’y well. If
I had been druuk it would have been
horrid monster. He wasn’t intoxicated,
but bad a corn on. one of his dear toes.
I joked about it, hut he went off in a
rage.”
“He is very sensitive; corns are pain
ful. Pm sorry.” '
“I’m glad. It will be company for
him, now that he don’t see you.”
“ You make yourself so disagree
able ! ”
“So is he. Uncomfortable to him
self, toa Wears tight boots to make
his feet look small.”
“That was needless; I always noticed
he had very small feet."
“No smaller than mine,” said Thorn
love, elevating a foot He prided him
self on his small feet.
“His are two sizes smaller, at the
very least,” said M«*r Thornlove, re
vengefully. “Yes, nearly three; yours
are like horse-cars compared with
his!”
“This is unliearable!” he exclaimed.
"Always pitying and praising Hobble
den, always neglecting and sneering at
me!”
“And yon are eternally hinting ’’
“Don’t talk to me!”
“Nor will I; hope yon'll have a nice,
sweet, quiet night’s rest, after all -this!”
And she hurried tearfully to her
chamber.
“I reciprocate just what yon moan,”
he bawled after her, and went scowling
to his private conch.
Mrs. Ophelia Thornlove did not ap
pear at the breakfast table next day.
Frederick mused gloomily over his
lonely coffee.
“I_was foolish, very, to make sneh a
fuss about my feet.” He held them up
and frowned at them, “No^r that I
take a partial view, they are really none
of the smallest! Besides, the right
trotter-case looks longer than the other.
If I hodn’t bought ’em, shouldn’t sup
pose they were mates. He polled his
pants up. “By ginger! they are not
mates! One’s shorter than t’other.
And I hope to be happy,” he added,
with increased earnestness, as hn exam
ined the leg of one, “if here isn’t the
name of Paul Hobbleden! This to a
discovery! Oh, powers of darkness,
who bring sh muo’h to light! How does
It happen that Hobbleden’s boot is on
®y leg ? Is the thing called Hobbleden
a man or a monster ? Or am I a lunatic,
and this name, Hobbleden, no name at
at all ? It to not my boot. How could
it oome here unless Hobbleden walked
in with it? But now—now—” and he
struck his eye softly with his frenzied
fist—“now, I have itl Hobbleden’s
boot has betrayed him. The fiend in
mortal shape must have been* in this
honse last night! Oh—Ophelia!”.
He rang the bell and his servant,
Babble, came.
"Babble, take care now what you
say — don’t be alarmed though — I
believe I have always treated yon as a
father would a brother—I mean as a
brother would his son—darn it, you
know what I mean—answer me truly;
was or was not Paul Hobbleden, my
particular friend, in this house last
night? Take care!"
“No, sir; he hasn’t been for a long
time.”
“Was he here for a short time?”
“No sir, not at alL"
“Babble, that’s a lie. Did you black
these boots this morning ?”
•laid, sir.” _
“Did you black my others ?"
“No sir, I did not, sir. No sir.
“Look at that leg.”
“Paul Hobbleden,” said Babble,
reading.
“Precisely, And of course that boot
belongs to him. v Now, how oould it be
hern unleai 'he was ?”
Babble swore that if Hobbleden had
been in the house, somebody else must
have let him in, after he, Babble, bad
gone to bed. r >
“Babble, you may go—that to, yon
may stay, in my employ. Bat mind yon,
don’t «ay anything of this to my wife—or
I’ll discharge you.”
Babbie turned pale end faded out of
tight
Mr. Frederick Thornlove was eery
solemn for several sullen, watchful days.
One day he came home and fousd
Ophelia painting a witieb-cese. At fiat
tike tried to hide £/ Then ^saaidit
m * surpass lo^ him.
cally. “One wouldn’t”
"Your feet are not of the equal size—
eh?”
“More likely the boot,” comparing
them. **
“They bees not mates,” said the sur
geon.
“True!” exclaimed HobMeden.
“Never noticed it before. Blamed the
snow for it; but they looked like mates
when I bought them. I’ll go and blow
up the shoemaker* to make sure*”
At tbe shoemaker’s he had a ferocious
controversy, but was at last persuaded
be mnst have changed the boots sjpee
Che purcliase—especiaTly as h6 flow retr
ollected he did take off his boots in
ThornloVe’s warehouse one wet day.
“Must have taken Thornlove’s boot—
feet are small like mine. Bnt there is a
pair of breeches between me and my un
feeling friend, and I scorn to call and
ask him for my property. Let me see.
Best thing for me to do, without being
hnmilated, is to wait till Thornlove gets
to bed, and then go and ask Babble to
go up and change the boots. ”
That very night with mingled thoughts
of wife-murder and suicide, subsided
among the surging feathers of his soli
tary bed, the jealous Frederick Thorn
love. If to die were but to sleep no less
comfortably, he would gladly have taken
in his arms a sea of feathers, and by re
posing ended himself.. He addressed
himself to sleep, but she refused to em
brace so vindictive a person. Wakeful,
therefore, near mi dnight he beard some
body opening his chamber door.
“ Can it be the brazen, false Ophelia ?
No; it is a heavier weight. Blessed if it
isn’t Babble, actually coming in here. Is
that yon, Babble ?"~
“Yes, sir,” faltered Babble. “Thought
I’d shine your boots to-night, instead of
in the morning. ”
“Take ’em. Doa’t oome np again.”
"No, sir.”
\ And the servant joyfully hurried down
with them to the kitchen.
“I’ll bet a bale of greenbacks that
Hobbleden is in the house and has bribed
him to get that boot. I thought that
man would be coming, finally, and now
I’ll overwhelm him I”
Thornlove went down in his stockings,
and listened at the partly open kitchen
door. Hobbleden was really there.
“That’s a~mlsohief 'making article I"
said Babble to Hobbleden, who wm
drawing it on. “I came near losing my
place on account oFTt; Mr. Thornlove
saw your name in it one morning, and
thought you came to the house secretly
and that I knew it. He suspected that
I had shined your boots and his together,
and had blundered when retoming them.
Separate ap&rtmenta for him and her,
this long time, yon see. ”
“Good gracious!” whispered Hobble
den in a cold sweat of horror; “oould he
suppose so ?’’
“But now that yon have been telling
me how you took off your boots one wet
day in his store, it is all explained, and
I’ll ease his jealous mind to-morrow.”
“I have awaked from a horrid dream,
at last I” joyfully reflected Thornlove, at
this unexpected disclosure; “I’ll make
amends at once. Come to my bosom, my
dear old Hobbleden 1” he cried aloud,
rushing into the kitchen in his gown and
stockings; “I have been long bewildered
by a false dream, but now I know the
naked troth, all things are on a proper
footing, and everything is a*Mt should
be.”
Hobbleden did not reject the affection
ate .salutation of his old friend, who,
after a further revelation of their mutual
sufferings, insisted upon sharing his
couch with him that night.
They slept serenely and when they met
Mrs. Thornlove at breakfast in the morn
ing the only point upon which they dis
agreed was, that they denounced while
she blessed the boots which had dorcised
from her household the green-eyed mon
ster forever I ,"
Red Flags of Attraction.
A newspaper agent called upon Mr.
Olosefiat the other day in a business
way.
“Oh, I don’t want to adverttoe,” said
Mr. Clooefisl “I have a regular run of
customers, and strangers are attracted
by my red flag on top of my house.”
“All right,” said the agent “Juat
continue doing bnaineaa that way and
some of thaoe days people will see a red
flag in front of jam honse, bnt they
won’t be atiraoteAby Ik They will ba
attracted by ttiwbell that tbe town
crier is ringing as be walks op and down
before your store.” j -
That agent waa enmething of a phi
losopher. *1
The Paneae ftrearh el Premia* Case
Acalaet l^rri Oarmaxle.
Miss For tee cue's action against Lotd
Garmoyle, in London, to rapidly As
suming the dimensiens of a public
scandal The London World says that
the conduct of Lord and Lady Cairns
has been base, treacherous and unchris
tian.
'they deceived the girl into thinking
herself accepted. They fooled her With
false hopes. Then, when the rapture
same, Lord Cairns suggested £2,000.
His lawyer induced him to consent to
£5,000. Beyond this he Would not go.
Society is waiting anxiously for the trial.
Lord and Lady Cairna will enter the wit
ness box. Lord G&rmoyle’s letters to
his "bine-eyed darling” will, be read.
Public opinion regards him with con
tempt. He has gone abroad. His name
has been withdrawn from the books of
clubs. The sains for £50,000.
Miss Fortescue was s pretty and
popular young actress, with a personal
deputation that scandal has never as
sailed, when she attracted the attention
and won the heart of ^oung Viscount
-Gmnwyte, the eldest son and heir of
Earl Cairns. The course of true love
did not run smooth at first, bnt in a little
time it was announced that Lord Cairns
had Consented to the match, "ahd early
last summer the formal betrothal of the
yonng . Couple was announced. Miss
Fortesone left the stage as a preliminary
to the marriage, which was to take place
as soon as Lord Garmoyle had finished
his education. Since the engagement
was made known the lovers have fre
quently been seen in pnblio together. A
few weeks ago a rnmor that the match
was off was started, but as Lord Gar
moyle and Miss Fortescue subsequently
attended together a performance by Mias
Mary Anderson tbe report was set down
to envy.
That Lord C&ims would be entirely
satisfied with the alliance was hardly to
be expected. Since the retirement of the
Earl of Shaftesbury by reason of old age
Lord Cairns has been the recognized
leader of the evangelical party. It to
not likely that either he or his wife, who
is a daughter of the late John MoNeile,
a wealthy Belfast banker, and niece of
the Rev. Hugh MoNeile, the celebrated
evangelical preacher of Liverpool, has
ever been inside a theatre. Their coun
try places of Lindtofarne, near Bourne
mouth, and Milden, in Scotland, are
seldom visited by even the leading mem
bers of the Earl’s own party, in oouse-
qnence'of tbe severity of the praying
there, and he has regularly presided over
the meetings of the Society for the
Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign
Parts. Hia eldest daughter, too, to mar
ried to the Rev. Neville Sberbrook, a
London preacher. The youths of his
family took a different view of things
and have histrionic tastes, which have
found active expresaion.
A Love Story.
A romance of A. T. Stewart’s life is
told by the New York correspondent of
the Pittsburg Dispatch, About sixty
years ago Cornelia Clinch was one of the
prettiest girls in New York. Her father
waa a rich ship chandler who lived in a
big house in the fashionable quarter. He
was s self-made man and thought every
man ought to be the architect of his
own fortune. So he frowned away every
wealthy young fop who come to woo Cor
nelia, and sent her regularly to school
to learn to be a sensible, useful woman.
Old Olinch attended St Mark’s Church,
and one Sunday young Stewart saw the
daughter there. He fell in love with
her and became a regular attendant at
the church. He got acquainted with
Cornelia, and as he was poor but indus
trious, the'old man smiled upon him and
invited him to call and take dinner with
them. After awhile Stewart asked Cor
nelia a very interesting question, and
she, like a good girl, blushed and said :
“Y-e-o-s—if papa says so,” Then Stewart
visited old Clinch, and he said: “Want
to marry Nelly, eh ? Think she’s got a
rich father, eh ? And you’d like to oome
in for a share of his earnings, eh ?’’ “No,
sir; ypu needn’t leave her or me a cent
I’ll soon be richer than you anyway.”
“You will, will you ? Well, I like that.
Go ahead and take her then, and Heaven
bless yon both.” So the young folks,
who were tremendously in love with each
other, were married and went to live in
a modest little cottage on Reada street,
and were glad to be able to cover the
floors with rag carpet. There, it to said,
they lived an ideally happy life.
Stomp It.—In announcing the dis
continuance of its morning edition, after
one month’s trial, the. Baltimore Day
says: “We have acquired a circulation
of about 4,000, and there to every indi
cation that in the course of a year we
might increase this to 8,000 or 10,000;
but meanwhile we should have sunk $80,-
000 or $100,000, and still have a paper
which must for several yean be run at a
loss, while our people were awakening to
the fact of its existence, and coo eluding
to give it their advertising patronage. In
the matter of advertising, we have prac
tically received no encouragement What-
Tha evening edition is still
lords two Lire our laud.
RaalUh NsSIrmea wh« are Drrpljr I ntrr-
-to Aairrlraa Asrleallaral Real
The largest owner of lend bought in
reoent years in this country to Sir Ed
ward James Reed, M. P. for Cardiff,
Wales. He has purchased in tbe last
ten years 3,000,000 acres of well-selected
cattle-grazing land in Mofttan* and Da
kota. Sir Edward Reed is a practical
man and the founder of his own fortune,
which begot out of the iron and coal
mines of his native Wales and the tin
mines of Cornwall. His investments in
this Country directed many others to our
public domain who had great confidence
in his sagacity. Next in consequence to
the purchase last year of 1,800,000 acres,
consisting mostly of pine land in the
dtaie of Mississippi, though included in
this holding are 400,000 acres of the
finest agricultural land on the Continent,
lying on the Yazoo river bottoms. This
magnificent property belongs to the
firm of Philips, Marshal A Co., wealthy
corn factors of Mark Lane, London,
Who are also the largest dealers In
American wheat and other grains in
England.
Next in consequence comes the Grant
estate, which includes an entire county
in Kansas, and has within its bounds
860,000 acres. This probably is tbe
meat desirable landed estate held by a
single owner in America, as the land is
rich, well watered, and settled mostly by
emigration farmers from England and
Scotland. Alexander Grant, the owner,
has laid off all his lands into forms,
built about 400 good farm houses, each,
with the necessary out-buildings, snd is
conducting the estate jnst as thongh it
was north of the Cheviots instead of
America.
The Duke of Portland owns about
500,000 acres, part of which to on the
North Platte in Nebraska and part in
Colorado. Not much of it to yet in cul
tivation. Lord Stafford owns 100,000
acres on tbe line of the Northern Pacific
railroad, and he to gradually colonizing
it and getting it into field cultivation.
Lord Dunraven ^s the pioneer of the
English nobility ia American land-own
ing. He bought the well-known prop
erty in Colorado called by him Dunraven
Park in 1868, and at government prices.
Dunraven Park contains about 100,000
acres. The first purchase was 60,000,
and subsequently 40,000 acres more
were added. It to one of the best cattle
ranches in America, being a lovely val
ley, full of pure streams fed by moun-
tain springs, rich in the best cattle
growing gras* known, and tbe whole
property is fenced in by mountain
ranges. It ia now easily worth $1,000,
000, but Lord Dunraven refuses to sell
it at any price. Lord Dnnmore owns
10.000 acres not far from Dunraven, and
very much the same character of land,
which to rapidly improving. The Duke
of Beaufort is one of the fonr owners of
400,000 acres recently bought by En-
f liah gentlemen in the Pan-Handle of
ex as; and Bir John Rae- Reed is another
of them, the others of interest being
two rich bankers' sons. There are many
other Englishmen who have from 1,000
to 2,000 acres in Colorado, Texas, Da
kota and New Mexico.
No Changing Works There. '
You never had a chum, did you ? aaked
the bad boy of the grocery man. If you
ever had a chum that you loved, that
had stood by you in all kinds ot weather,
who would work his finger nails off for
yon, and go without eating and sleeping
to make you happy, you oould never talk
that way. My chum to just as tender as
a woman, though ke was strong as a
giant afore the rheumatiz struck him,
and now he to as weak as a little tiny
baby, and we have to handle him just
as though he was eggs. Every bone, snd
muscle, and drop of blood, and piece of
akin about his body is just like ma’s
neuralgia, and sometimea they all ache
at once, and then they take turns ach
ing, and my chnm lays there and takes
it aa calmly as thongh he wss at a pic
nic, and never grumbles. He smiles his
great big old-fashioned smile when he
sees me looking over the foot-board of
bis bed, and when I go np and put my
hand on his face, and wipe the perspira
tion off hto forehead, the tears oome roll
ing down his cheeks, and he tries to
raise his helpless hand to shake mine,
but he can’t, and be nys, “Hello, old
paid," snd then he shuts his eyes and
the rhematix commences where.it left
off and goes to grinding him np again.
Gosh, if I could pull off my shirt snd
things and get into his bed and take hto
place, and let the rheumatiz get in its
work on me for a day, while my'chum
might go out and slide down hill or kick
over a few barrels, and feel bully for
awhile, I would enjoy it Bnt yon can’t
change works with < fellow that has got
rheumatiz. —Ptck’t Sum
REYENtilNG A REBELLION.
Hartlaa Maldlera Mlnnahirrlna all the Car*
Iare4 Inaerareia.
The steamer Alvena, from Hayti, r>
ports a reign of terror on the island.
After the loss of their cause those who
bore arms against President Salomon
fled toward the aiwports, many of them
being shot by the way in their search for
what seemed to lid their only possible
escape from tbe vengeance of the Hay ban
soldiery. Even the seaports were not
secure cities of refuge.
At Jeremie, tbe purser of the Alvena,
Mr. Lambsrt, found tbe place swarming
with government officials and soldiers.
Tbe latter, by the way, according to Mr.
Lamtwrt’s description, are as motley a
company as jTuck Fatotuff gathered
around hto valiant person in the stormy
days of Prince Hal. Home of them, the
purser says, wore red uniforms, some
green and some black. Borne had mixed
(“KKety which it would be base flattery
to designate aa a uniform at all. Borne
officers carried guns and some privates
earned swords, while all of them swag
gered abont with cigars or short pipes in
their mouths.
The purser had specie for Anx Oayes
and a person who cams on board to get
it informed him that forty-five rebels
had been shot at Jaeme! and that several
hundred refugees were huddled in the
bouses of different consulates. Presi
dent Roloman (in all hto glory once
again) was expected to arrive there on
the following day ami tbe refugees were
awaiting hto arrival, under the protect
ing flags of various nations, and hoping
to receive the exeentive jiardon and pro
tection. Nowhere else were the rebels
safe. One of their generals donned fe
male attire and fled to the wood*, but
he was captured and immediately shot
The Alvena went hack to Petit Goave,
where she had first been refused the
right to discharge cargo. In the ten
days that bad clasped since her first visit
the storm of rebellion had died away and
permission to discharge was no longer
withheld. It may have been that there
were no more rebels to escape, for the
parser was informed by their agents
that within the ten days no fewer than
fifty-two of them had been shot. They
had escaped from Mlragoane and fled to
the environs of Petit Goave.
The fate of a rebel commander at
Petit Goave will illustrate the fury with
which the defeated insurgents were pur
sued. He was supposed to be in oon-
scalment in the town, where information
reached the authorities that ha had
taken refuge on board an Italian brigan-
tioe- lying in port. The government at
once made a demand for hto surfender
and tbe brigantine gave him np. He was
taken ashore and shot
A Jesse James Gang Broken Up.
A long series of robberies in a Penn
sylvania city culminated soma time ago
in the burglary of a house, and from
which a large amount of plate and family
jewels were carried away. The leading’
citizens employed z detective, end a da-
•cent was made npdp tbe thieves, none
of wWm are over twenty and til of
whom are disciples of Jess* James.
There were twelve or fourteen of them,
all sons of some of tbe leading citizens,
amktnembers ol the high school TYiey
had a hut, under wliioh a cellar had been
dug 6 feet deep and the sidee lined with
boards. In this cellar were found toots
of all kinds, looks, keys, playing cards,
checkers, checker-hoards, dime novels
and literature of the blood-and-thunder
style. A large quantity of articlea had
been removed a few minutes previously
by some of the gang, they having heard
in some way that the police were com
ing. Inveatigations proved that the
gang met quite frequently and had a
tegular oath-bound organization. Before
entering the bands the candidate was
balloted for, and if elected was initialed.
The applicant was then partly stripped
and tied np against the underground
wall and made to swear not to reveal any
of the secrets, passwords, etc., under
oertain penalty. In thb position the ap
plicant waa kept for one hour, while the
rest kept up a series of tortures.
Sliding Down Hill
QUAKER CITY JOKES.
A FKW THJNUn AtTIDKNTAT.t.V OVKR-
HRAKD BY TUB PHII.A DBi^lllA
“KVKMNU ('Al.l.” HIMOK1HT.
wnsrrnww railkoad ststzil
First Western Railroad Man—“1 see
it stated that a commissioner has been
sent over by the Russian government,
and to coming West to study our railroad
system. **’•"— l -~”
Second Western Railroad Man—“Yes;
but I don’t see why the Russian govern
ment should goto til that trouble."
First Railroad Man—"Yon don’t?”
Second Railroad Man — “Onsininly
not; our system oould have been ex
plained to the Russian government by
any Western man who happened to be
over there.”
First Railroad Man—“That’s true; I
did not think of that. It could be done
with a paper and pencil by juat making
dots to represent towns and lines to rep
resent the roads; same as on a map."
Second Railroad Man—“Exactly, and
writing nnder it: Out-throat ratea be
tween competing points must be made
up by big charges on local traffic."
Son college boy* after dark took an
entire load of wood from a farmer’s sled,
left in the street over night, and with
great labor piled it np in a citizen’s
woodshed under the impression that
he’d be charged with stealing h. They
now find that he had bought the wood
and they have saved tbe fannsr so much
work, and they want to find out who sug
gested tha joke and bow muck the farm
er paid him.
Thu to leap year. It seems aa thongh
all tbe yean are leap years, as they jump
by so rapidly. ,
RZSTOBTRO THZIR OOKTIDKHCB.
Jones—“Land me five do Hare ?”
Smith—“Can’t do it Just paid out
my last five dollars for a big advertise
ment of property stolen.”
Jones—"Stolen property ?"
Smith—"Yes. I offered $8,000 re
ward for information that would toad to
the conviction of the thieves who en
tered my boose and stole s lot of jewelry
and other valuables, including a $28,000
diamond necklace.”
Jones—“Bee here, I happen to know
that you never owned $300 worth of
jewelry in your life.”
Smith—"Hiatt My creditors don’t
know it I want to restore their con
fidence.” __
THXIS VALDU APPHZCIATBD.
Mrs. A.—“Yon will have to gat Johnny
a new high chair, dear.”
Mr. A—“What to the matter with tbs
old one ?"
Mrs. A.—“It to broken in sneh a way
that it can’t be mended. I am sorry
atiout it, becanse such chairs are high in
price, but Johnny must have something
to sit on, and we can’t let him use the
dicuonary or the family Bible."
Mr. A—“Certainly not; no need to.
I will write to my friend, the Senator,
and get him to send me some pnblio
documents at once.”
a or*at Dimnuxca.
“Yon nay that Mr. Smith gave yon
twenty dollars for officiating at hto wed
ding, snd Mr. Brown only gave yon two
dollars ?" (tad the wile of s utorgynmn
to her husband. — _
“Yea,” he replied.
“That seems vary strange,” oontfnued
the tody; "Mr. Smith to a stork on a
small salary, while Mr. Brown, I here
always understood, to a very wealthy
Did you ever stand near a hill in
winter, and watch the boys coasting,
and not wish that yon were z boy
again just for zn hour? How jolly a
crowd of coasters are. Every boy seems
to have zn idee that he must talk end
shout or something will burst, and they
all try to do it at once. The keen, fresh
air, and invigorating exercise, make
the lungs demand exercise, and nature
asserts her sway by making the boys ex
ercise their lungz by shouting and talk
ing. Bee the toughing, sparkling eyes
and rosy cheeks of the youngsters.
Fan? Waa there ever a place on this
earth where a boy gets more fun than
while coasting? Why, a boy will get
more fun out of sliding dewn a steep
hill on a barrel stove, if he can’t get a
sled, than he oould at ajhnoat any other
■port, It don’t seem right to prohibit
the sport, , We moat not forget that we
were boys and as boys hpi our fun. It
might be a good idea, however, to use
the middle of oertain streets for coasting
and tot the fact ba generally known, so
that there can ba no reasonable
for accidents to people craeiai
streets, bnt it doss seam a little too fog
reaching to arrest a boy for ending down
hill, no mtitar what htD it may be.
"He to, my dear, bnt this to
eeeond time Mr. Brown has bean
lied.” /
Little Ntil—“Your family ain’t half so
stylish as oars. ” v
Little Hand—“I’d juat like to know
Why it’taint."-
Little Nell—“ Tauae we’ve dot an old
family ghost, an’ day to awfnl' sty hah."
Little Maud—“Pooh 1 that tint
nothing. We’ve got something more
stylish than that. I heard mamma talk
to papa abont it."
Little Nell-“What to itr
Little Maud—"A skeleton in tha
etoset”
KA%TBB aw nSALTH.
Mrs. D.—“Who would have thought
it?"
Mr. D.—Thought whet ?"
Mrs. D.—“In this article on 'Health*
the writer says it to far wiser to sleep
till one wakens naturally.”
Mr. D.—“Oh! I kpew that long ago."
Mrs. D.—“You never told me."
Mr. D.—“Your memory to very shod
Haven’t I told you hundreds of times to
let me sleep until the fires see fixed, tbe
children dressed, end breakfast ready to
put on tbe table?”
BIS NAUR.
Circus Manager—“Well, everything to
reedy now for getting up next season’s
posters and handbills, except your
name.”
Elephant ^peper—“My name?"
Circus Manager—“Yea, yOn hare not
given that to me yet"'
Elephant Keeper—"Ywi know very
well that it to Don Caesar De Nerenni.”
Cireos Manager—“Oh I that will never
do. That waa your name last year, and
you remember, yon were killed by to
eleuhanto last fall at 8k Loom"
J
HOT aiUliTT or ABlTHliWL
“Prisoner, yon stand charged'with
murder in the first degree,
guilty or not guilty T
“I killed too man, yos
but-"
“I aaked jmTara you guilty or not
guilty of the charge preferred?"
“Ldme explain. Awl ■M, 1 JriBai
to* 4M*; tat I oommittod to* Asad,
whlto f wu* tomperarfly fo—■ "
“Oh, that pats the til
eta light! Ton are di-ti