Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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THE LEDGEK: GAFFTiEY, S. C M AUGUST IS, 1898 3 THE LOST ORDERLY. i It w'uh not yet noon, but tho running ' light which hud disturbed the solitude , of the Buttes since esvrly moruing wm bver. The troop hud scattered after them with u great deal of threatening and intentionally wild firing, but it was no part of Captain Pillogg’s orders to unduly slay or even harass. His de- tire was merely to impress “the b ar of God and Washington” upon the deluded tribe and drive them back like sheep to their fold. Besides, after the morning’s amusement, tho hot sun made rest wel- coipo. “Sound the recall. “ said Pillogg to his senior trumpeter, and at onco threw himself from his horse, lay at full length on the grass and produced his flask and cigar case. • Tho bugle saug brightly over tho plain, and as its clear command filled tho distant hollow’s and rang from bluff to bluff tho distant shouting and firing gradually ceased. While the cap tain puffed his cigar at ease, and tho trumpeter stood holding tho horses be side him, tho roar of tho first sergeant forming the troop camo to their ears, and in a few minutes, with muc h snort ing of excited horses and clatter of steel, the men came galloping back in column of fours, formed company front swiftly and halted. “Call the roll, ” said Captain Pillogg, remcuctim and I ) the first sergeant, drawing a paper from his bluo shirt pock11, faced the men and rattled off the names, while the officer eyed each man critically as he answered. “Hero. ” There were some casualties. One man was badly hurt bv a shot iu the side; others wore scratched, but one alone w’as missing. The captain, who had led the fight in tho beginning of the affair, thought consolingly of the number of Indians bowled over, who had mostly been carried off by their comrades. Tho first sergeant swung bis horse about and saluted. "One nmn missing, sir,” he reported “tho second trumpeter, Thomas Cox.” "Anybody know anything about him? Anybody see bim drop?” A trooper replied that Tommy was riding hard mouthed Rip and iu tho pursuit appeared to have all he could do to hold tho horse in. Tho trooper opined that Rip, being half crazy at the best of times, had gone mad with ex citement and borne Tommy Cox “into tho next county.” The captain had just ordered tho sergeant to detail a corporal and men to look up tho missing when from the direction of the Indians* flight there came a mad batter of hoofs and a ghout. Up charged the missing bugler, a smooth faced lad, w’ith saber rattling wildly against his side, his bugle pound ing his back and his bridle hand, though touching tho rein, evidently powerless to control his foaming, wild eyed horse, who dashed pellmell into tho troop and came to a standstill only when it had jammed itself between two bruised and cursing troopers. Tommy’s right arm desperately embraced a wriggling bun dle of dirty shirt and rod brown skin, and from this bundle camo a hideous succession of howds and snarling lamen tations. Tho troopers leaned forward on their horses’ necks to look, and at onco there ran from right to left a rum ble of sardonic laughter. “What is that, sir?” tho captain ask ed and peered disgustedly at the bundle. “Please, sir, ” said Tommy, a year in the service and glorying in his first ex pedition, "a prisoner, sir.” “Oh, h—!” cried Pillogg, and tho troopers roared. “Let tho papoose go. Are you a dry nurse, sir?” “No, sir,” said Tommy, very red and anxious. “But he’s such a little devil, an he’s hurt, an I—I’m afraid I’ve killed his father, so I—I thought I’d bring him along. Oh, ah, oh!” The wriggling Indian child had writhed about until it got Tommy’s, hand between its teeth and was now biting like a rat. When the next man in ranks overcame his laughter suffi ciently to release tho bugler, tho cap tain was smiling. “You killed the father, eh? How did it happen you did not keep up w’ith the troop?" Tommy, eager to excuse himself, and hot at the laughter of the grizzled troop, hastily explained. “Rip got a bit tho best of jne,”he jerked out, “an ran wild. Wo lost sight of the other fellows, sir, an over there the horse bolted up a cooly. There was an Injun without a pony, an this kid on his hack, running ahead, an he turned an lired on mo. So I fired back with my revolver, an (Tommy grinned with modest pride) I dropped the son—dropped him, sir, deader than stuffing. This here kid howled; I guess the bullet grazed him. An—an I got Rip in hand an dismounted on took the kid; he fought like a wildcat, an the bites—jing, can’t he bite!” “If you’d taken the rifle it would have been more sensible,” Pillogg drawled. “What do you want to do with him?” “He can’t walk, sir,” Tommy pro tested, “an I was kinder sorry for him. He’s so durned cate when ho wrastlos an bites an—an he’d die if I lef ’ him there all night." Tho captain turned away. “When these beggars have oorae to their senses again,” he said, “they’ll send for him. You can bring him along if you’ll guarantee to nurse him. ’Ten- tiou! Right forward, fours right, inarch 1” In this manner the Weasel was brought to Fort S. and introduced to the mysteries of civilization. His fa ther and mother dead, none of his tribe claimed bim, and Tommy Oox, the bngler, became, despite of the men’s frequent jests, a father, totor and friend to him. Tommy was yet yonng enough to retain great freshness of soul and simplicity of heart. The fact that bo bad shot the little savage’s father and made an orphan of the Weasel weighed upon his conscience, and he was very zealous In his care of the Indian. Never theless, a ?-year-old redskin is a trou blesome anomaly in tho garrison, where the women of laundress’ row looked on him as- they might upon tho direct spawn of the devil, hailing their own offspring from him when the Weasel would have shared their games. Had they had their way the boy would have been sent back to the reservation. A powerful influence was exerted, however, iu the W< as*Ts behalf, an in fluence than which none greater was felt in Fort ri. Miss Toonio Adair, lit tle O-year-old daughter of tho colonel, who had been christened Judith (a name to which she never answered), to tins horror of all tho laundresses took a fancy to the Weasel, and at once adopt ed him as her own special protege. What Toonio said, when she said it from tho colonel’s knoo with her arm round his nock, invariably was accept ed as a post order, and tho Weasel’s po sition was assured. “You’re a dreadful wickwl little sav age,” said Toonio, seated'on tho colo nel's porch, with the Weasel squatting in front of her, his big, black eyes sol emnly staring into tho depths of her | big bluo ones. “Ain’t yon sorry God i borned you a savago? Do you like blue I eyes? My eyes aro bluo, and they’re very pretty. When you know how to ] speak English, you must tell me I have i ; pretty blue eyes. Everybody does—ev- j orybody I like. You’ve black eyes. Black eyre is savago. Did you over scalp anybody? If you were to scalp me, my 1 father would kill you—he would, with a pistol and sword, because he says my ; hair is the prettiest in tho world. You’ve black hair. It’s not pretty, it’s savago. Ain’t you glad I’m taking care of you, little boy? Because it’s not, your fault you was borned an Injun, and if you’re j good I’ll make you a Christian, and then p’raps God will make your eyes bluo aud pretty like mine. “Papa!” she cried iu tho first enthu siasm of her liking for tho little savage. “Now I’m a real, real colouol, just like you. I’m going to have nu orderly. And, please, papa, may ho have a uni form:” The laundresses and all others ill dis posed toward tho little Indian had now no word to say. Toouie’s orderly be came a feature of Fort, S. Where tho little girl went there went he, even to accompanying her—at tho regulation distance behind, for Toonio was noth ing if not disciplinarian, and kept him iu his place—on her sudden dashes, pony back, into the surrounding country and about the post. For him—when tho big black eyes softened, it was at Too- nio’s voice; when he bent to study his lesson it was at Tocnie’s behest; when he returned, as he did several times, after running away in search of savago freedom, it was to stand meekly and mournfully before Toonio’s tearful re buke. For Tom;uy Cox ho had a regard, varied by sudden outbursts of passionate disobedience; to Toonio bis devotion was always unbrokenly simple and dog like iu its faithfulness. Sometimes tho officers joked tho little maid on her or derly, but never after tho year in which she was 9 and the Weasel about 10. She had dashed away on one of her willful trips of exploration, followed at a gallop by the Weasel. It was glaring summer time, and by the river far from the post grew big red plums in succu lent profusion, cool and juicy. To feast on these at leisure tho girl dismounted, and the Weasel tied the ponies to a tree. He was not yet finished with this office, Toonio plunging at ouoo iu tho bushes, when the boy was startled by a terrible cry. Ho quickly made the pouics fast and darted to tho child’s aid. She sat upon tho ground iu tearful fright, white and sobbing. “The snake! The snake!” she cried. “A great big rattlesnake—it bit me.” She clutched her ankle aud moaned. The little Indian did not hesitate; lie did not lose his head. At some time in his life with his own people ho must have witnessed some such scenes, for now ho acted with decision and knowl edge in a case where a white boy would have been helpless. Ho tore the low shoo and littlo stocking away, and there, already, was tho swelling redness of the serpent’s bite. He owned a knife, the gift of a brotherly trooper, and this ho whipped out. No doubt his black eyes gleamed strangely with excite ment, for Toonio was overcome with new terror at sight of them and of the sharp aud shining blade. In spite of her screams tho grimly silent Weasel seized the leg aud deliber ately aud firmly cut into tho flesh round the wound until a portion was hocked out To the cut he applied his lips and socked vigorously. Toonio’s shrieks and howls filled the air, but the boy uttered never a word, only stopping now aud then to peer into his mistress’ bluo ami frighteued eyes anxiously. These did not dim, her rigor did not lessen, and the Weasel sucked away with coudfienoe. At last he took her handkerchief and bound up tho wound, dragged her to her pony and helped her motmt.. She was a wonderfully strong and healthful young person and did not whimper nor faint, only howled in a sturdy and wholesome way. The Wea sel rode by her side at a tearing gallop back to the post and straight to the hos pital. The doctor applied his remedies, but they were not needed, for the rude promptitude of the Indian's notion bad drawn the poison. Toonio bore an ugly scar afterward and betrayed an awed respect for and a little fear of her order ly for a long time, but the doctor was enthusiastic, and the colonel let it be understood that the Weasel was hence forth his own particular charge. < In the passage of time it became nec essary for tho girl to desert the wild but healthful life of the western plains and g > east to be educated. The colonel decided to send Weasel away at the same time to one of these great institu tions which are maintained for the ben efit of the nation’s wards. Thns it came that the two parted, the mistress and the orderly. Toonie gave him her pho tograph with tears. “Yon’re never, never to forget me,” •he said. “Fromise.” “Never,” said tho Weasel, with sad ly earnest eyes. “And when I come back yon’ll be my orderly just the same; promise.” “Just tho sumo,” said the Weasel. But when she camo back she was no longer Toonie, the child. She was Miss Adair, no further opposed to being called Judith—indeed preferring it to the loving pet name of her babyhood, which, she said, was silly. The Indian wtw back on the plains, very tall and straight, iu neat garments of civiliza tion. Ke hail passed through the school with nn ch honor and was now to act as a missionary among his own people. The colonel was aihuscdly proud of him as of a tine dog of his own breed ing. Ho sent for him on the night of Judith Adair’s arrival. “Here’s your old orderly, my dear,” said he. She looked up from the chair where she was reading some letters—looked at him with a smile ot curiosity. “Well, I never, papa!” she said. “Ho looks quite civilized. I am glad to hear you get on so well, "she added, with a nod to the Weasel, and resumed her reading. Tho Indian went out silently, nor looked so tall and straight aud happily expectant as when he entered. Ho had ridden iu from the mission, toa miles from tho post, where he was quartered. Tho moon was up when he silently loft the post after that chilling, ! indifferent greeting. The clouds that scurried low between earth aud moon i cast flickering, hasty shadows on tho uneven plain, but the shadow that bad fallen on his life never lilted. Before him, as ho rode, stretched the shimmer ing, shallow river, darkly fringed by those low bushes whence the rattlesnake bad darted—so short a time ago. It had seemed to him so short a time, un til tonight Now he realized that an age had passed. Perhaps it h;wl never happened; it was a dream. It must have been a dream, or tho chill yenug lady in tho parlor ho bad left, who had told him so carelessly ho was quite civi lized, would have reraein bored. Ho was civilized; For years he had lived with white people. Ho barely re membered tho baby days of tepees aud squaws and ponies and bows and ar rows. She had civiliz d him, she aud tho long, happy thoughts of her iu tho days at school and college when his own blood brothers had been things of pity to him, because they had never been blessed by friendship with her, when his teachers had wondered at bis towering ambition and bis intense in dustry. His horse, unhindered, fell to walking leisurely. The Indian’s head dropped. Swiftly there came to him a conviction of the wrong done him. Over all those great plains there were two peoples, two great families—the white aud tho red. Each member of these had bis brother, his father, close ties of kinship. In all the breadth of the land he stood utterly alone and apart. He was civilized—half and half, neither one thing nor the other. Ho had turned away from his brothers at the beck of his teachers. Ho had done his task, he had succeeded. He had been hold up as a shiuitig light, an example of what might bo done with one of his race. There it stopped. Ho had dreamed of being a white among tho whites, whose creed had been dinned in his cars—“all men are equal.” Only tonight had she, by a glance aud a word, let him realize how ho had deceived himself. To please her ho had obeyed os a child, studied as a boy, labored at college. To please her. “Well, I never! He looks quite civi lized. I am glad to hear you aro getting on so well, ” she had said. He would not go back to the poet nor to tho mission. Ho cared nothing for their good will if ho was not to bo one of them. What then? At a crossing of trails ho met an old Indian freighter going to the post to sell watermelons to tho soldiers. Tho Weasel stopped him aud gave him some money aud made a bargain, and the old freighter went on his way with a good suit of clothes from the east, and the Weasel dashed into tho darkness, where hid far, far away the Indian reserva tion, and on his legs and feet wore fringed and beaded moccasins, and round him was wrapped a gaudy blan ket. Ho had chosen his family, his peo ple, among whom he would be an equal at least. He had retrograded, lapsed in to savagery. One of the chief delights of his eastern teachers when showing off their star pupil to congressmen and inquiring philanthropists had been to dwell upon the fact that the lad belong ed to one of tho most unruly aud hope lessly savage tribes on the plain*—a tribe which was constantly restless, an annual annoyanco to theludiau bureau, addicted to sun dances, ghost dances, raiding aud other symptoms of incura ble Indian fever. Just at this time they were disturbed unusually by the promi- nenoe among them of a certain young buck who aspired to leadership and was inciting his comrades to all manner of Indian deviltry. His heart was sok. He bad been merely an interesting plaything for philanthropists, the old colonel and her. He was rejected oNiis own people. No tie was left him. On his breast, in a little deerskin pouch fastened to his neck, lay a picture—the photograph Toonie bad given bim when she went away to school, her heart young and tender to the devoted boy who had sav ed her life. He tore it out as he rode and rent it to shreds and threw them the wind with a wild cry. He galloped furiously onward, in and out of the shadows, over low stretches of sand and across rooky ridges. In front of him was a rising, bluff, whose farther side dropped precipitously to a deep ravine hewed out ages ago by gla cial snows. Here had old time Indians driven the great buffalo herds, sending tho madly frightened brutes tumbling and bellowing to a crashing death down the cl it. Here rode the Weasel now, at full tilt, nntil, with one long, wailing yell, he plunged headlong.—B. Y. Black in Chicago Inter Ocean. ORDEAL BY BAMBOO RODS. THE GARDEN GATK. An Extraordinary Indlrn Or* Thief Catching. The following extraordinary narra tion of facts as they occurred, and which, we aro informed, wore witness ed and can be testified to by the mem bers of three households occupying a large house in Bontinck street, Calcutta, is so remarkable that it is worth tho while of any scientist to test them per sonally, as this can bo easily done on tho occasion of any theft by domostius in a bouse. It may bo added that every servant in Calcutta is a lively believer in its effi cacy and, if a thief, at onco confesses. A Brahman is tho worker of these mar vels. He is well known iu Calcutta and does not profess to work out his meth od of theft detection for money, but leaves it to those who employ him to reward him if they think fit It is said that this is readily done, and that lie makes a good thing out of it. A cook in tho service of a family in tho locality alluded to intrusted his nephew with a largo sum of money to keep in deposit. Tho nephew alleged that ho placed the money in on earthon pot, which he buried. Tho location of the exact spot was confided to a friend. Shortly after this the cook was inform al by his nephew that tlio pot and mon- i ey had disappeared. With tho nephew's consent the Brahman was summoned to 1 discover the thief, and tho following is a bare narration of the extraordinary procedure he adopted, and usually adopts in all such cases: Accompanied by an aid, be comes to the house provided with two bamboo rods about 16 feet lougaud an inch aud a half in diameter. He also has with him a number of fresh peepul leaves, a cocaanut, some rice and some vermilion aud cowries. A fresh earthen dish has to be provided by tho person who sum mons him, as well as a stool. All the servants in tho house aro gammoned, they are made to stand in a half circle, aud their names are written on each leaf, and these leaves, with one painted with the vermilion, are placed in tho dish, which in its turn is placed on the stool. Two utter strangers arc then made to hold the bamboo reds, one iu each hand, opposite each other, with their elbows far behind their hips, so that they can have littlo or no jntiu- euce in turning or bending the ro^Ls.“ -, Now comes the strange part of the proceedings. At the Brahman’s call of each name the bamboo rods in the first instance rise together and form a semi circle above. They then bend and, forming a eemicirclo below, gradually come together, pick up tho leaf con- taiuing the name called out and throw it out of the dish. This strange process is repeated till the name of the thief, as alleged, is called, wheu they both seize the leaf, lift it up aud only disengage it at the call of the Brahman, who en treats tho rods to let the leaf go. To all appearance the two men who bold the rods make no effort whatever. The thing is done in such au extraor dinary fashion as to exceed belief. In fact, a reasonable human being cannot believe it till ho has witnessed it, and when ho has done so his amazement is all the greater. Hero is indeed a marvel for the scientist to puzzle over. The two rods bend, come together and seize upon the right names as they aro called out aud theu throw them aside, except iu the case of the thief. In this instance the nephew confessed to the theft, and a number of his relatives who had come from up country to witness the ordeal made restitution. — Madras Weekly Mail. Long ago In ohiMlKh terror From a toiicl'xl gnorno I fled. Casting frightened glances backward, Longing look* toward home ahead. Through the lanv und by th« window* Bwilt and aure us foot of fate. Never staid 1 till hohind me Clanged and cluapcd tho pardon gats. Plow'd gate of happy childhood, Barring harm and sorrow out. Where the shadow of the tioiro toad Threw protection round about! Blessed warders, peace and safety, Holding watch for wanderer lat* Closing with their arms about mo When I shut the garden gate! All things fearsome lay beyond it, Bpringing too and lurking wile; All things true and right within it. Clcetered round my mother’s smile. But the years came creeping, creeping— Years that would not bide and wait— Till, despite my hitter weeping, Fooa camo through the garden gate. Ah, how I struggled with the stranger, Pale and terrible nnd grl^i! Unclasped the hands that fain would hold it As he came through the twilight dim. “A little while! Oh, pallid stranger, A year, n day, a moment wait— We love him eel” Death gave no answer. Except to come within the gate. And now 1 know that safe no longer Falls the cottage latch for me, Though 1, waiting, watch beside It With whitened head and bonding knee. Yet, with eyelids closed and weary, Quite forgetting dny or date, I dn-uni again how bright tho honven Whose portal was the garden gate. —New York Ledger. HISTORY OF THE FLY ONE OF THE OLDEST AND MOST FA MOUS OF INSECTS. theBible by quo-half. Ev maclo to obtain a supply A Bath In Wine. Take a wine bath. Such, wo are as sured, is the gist of n circular which has just been issued iu one of tho de partments. A sojourn of 20 minutes iu a tub into which 100 liters of malve- sie have been poured is described as the most invigorating process that can be imagined, it being added that the oper ation can be repeated with tho samo wine 100 times. “Youempty tho whole hectoliter ou each occasion into tha bath, and when you have had your dip you put tho wiuo buck iu to the cask. ” So the same malvesie does duty over and over again, a tact which at least j ought^ to weighwith persons who aro not of an extravagant Turn of mind. But this is not all. The wiue is not lost even now. It can bo drunk. “For,” concludes tho circular, “after tho 100 baths tho malvesie is distilled, and tho result is a delicious brandy, ” which, it is to be devoutly hoped, is at least to be kept by tho patient for his own person al consumption. These wine baths, if they become fashionable, open out such a vista of awfnl possibilities as to in duce nervous or squeamish people to os- chew malvesie and cognac for tho re mainder of their days, or for that mat ter to become teetotalers outright But after all the majority may still bo ex pected to act on tho blissful ignorance principle. — Paris Cor. London Tele graph. Didn't Piny the Game. Old Fogy—I am pained to hear that you are addicted to poker playing aud that last night you lost $36. Young Fogy—The idea! Why, I don’t even know how to play the game. Old Fogy—So I am informed by the party who won the money.—Boston Transcript Ola Ou« Condition. “What did Newrich say when told him you wanted to marry laughter?” “He didn’t absolutely refuse, but imposed a very serious condition. ” “What was it?” “He said be would see me banged first ”—London Fun. you his he A Bargain. Highup—You said Mr. Highup—You said that thing would not cost over $50. Mrs. Highup—I gave exactly $30 for it, bat then I paid the modiste $20 more for her promise to tell everybody that it cost $100.—New York Weekly. Oxford Bibles. Everybody has heard of tho Oxford Bible, and everybody knows that it is printed on a peculiar paper, but the story of that paper is a story of tho tri umph of perseverance. In McClure’s Magaziue some idea is given of tho long search for tho paper which has revolu tionized Biblo making. India paper is a mechanical mystery aud a trade secret, a secret known only to three mon. It is made at the Wolvercoto mills of tho Oxford press, but as no employee is in touch with more than one stage of the process the complicated secret is held in band. „ ' • — Iu 1842 an Oxford graduate returned from India with a paper peculiarly thin, peculiarly tough and peculiarly opaque. A few Bibles were made from it, one of which was presented to the queen. Its use reduced the tliickness of Every effort was of this paper, but without success. Mr. Gladstone’s ubiquity of research was drawn upon, but ho could only recommend a search iu Japan. Papers equally thin and equally tough were obtained, but they were too transparent. It was not possible to print them ou both sides of the sheet. Finally a paper thin enough and tough enough and opaque enough v,us developed, but it was too yellow. It was tried, but tho color was uuacceptu- blo to tho public. It was not till 30 years bad passed that tho tenacity and perseverance of Mr. Prow do triumphed over all obstacles, aud Bibles were is sued in 1874 on the wonderfully thin paper on which they are issued today, a paper which distinguishes the Oxford Biblo from all tho other books of the world. An Accidental Snccess. Onoo upon a time, so runs tho story, there was u man in Loudon who had ventured upon various publishing schemes with but poor success aud w’as beginning to despair of over making a fortune when, by chance, ho bethought himself of a huge scrapbook which his wife had compiled^ of various Jiterary oddg and ends’ That Tiacl enchained her fancy. She called her scrapbook “Tit- Bits,” and it occurred to her husband that such odds and ends, published in periodical form, might interest other people as well as his wife. The result of this meditation on his part was the appearance of a littlc^peiT ny paper called Tit-Bits, which proved so popular and gained such a wide cir culation that its proprietor felt encour aged to place other literary ventures on the market, and it was not long before he became known as the publisher of a number of extremely popular penny periodicals. He is now a millionaire many times over and a baronet, while his wife, whose scrapbook proved tho cornerstone of their prosperity, finds her reward iu the title of Lady Newnes. —Muusoy’s Magazine. Jay Gould’s Millions. Jay Gould’s millions were at one time iu danger. It was in 1873, aud their fate depended upon the fluctua tions in tho gold market. Gould saw his precarious position in time, and so enormous was his power and influence that he maneuvered himself out of tho difficulty. In fact, when it was over ho was wealthier than ever. About ten years after this happened there were dark rumors about his af fairs, and it was hinted that tho great Gould was not what bo was supposed to be in a pecuniary scuse. He disposed of these doubts in a very simple man ner. He invited a number of gentlemen to his private office, and when they ar rived he laid on the table before them for examination certificates of stocks in his own name to the value of $53,000,- 000 and said that if they wished he would lay $20,000,000 move before them. The Mauser Bine. The Mauser rifle in hard work it found to be a mistake. It has a case of five cartridges, which have to be all used before any can be reinserted. That is to say, if a seedier has occasion to fire three he must go on mid waste the oth er two or else leave himself to meet a possible sudden rush with only two rounds in his gun. Nine times out of ten he prefers to be ready with a full charge, and so his ammunition is wast ed. Moreover, it is an unhandytweapen to work iu a hurry.—London Telegraph. Good For Shoop, It is a noteworthy fact that sheep thrive best in a pasture infested with moles. This is because of the better drainage of the land. lie Wen Wernhiped l>y the Ancient* and Until Cecc&t Year* Wa* Very Much ot a Myktery—tlow the Fly Walk* oa m Cellius —III* Wonderful Feet. The hnmble housefly is one of tho oldest aud always bus 1kh*:i cue of tho most distinguished of insects. Ho was worshiped by tho ancients and placed as a constellation in tho heavens. The Philistines sacrificed to Beelzebub ns god of flics and tho Cyreneana to Achor. Tho Greeks offered au ox every year to Zeus Apomyios iu honor of t’ a god of flies, and the Romans sacrificed yearly iu the temple of Heracles Vic tor, in Rome. Tho Syrians, too, tried to appease the troublesome god. The Koran of tho Mohammedans promised that “all flies shall perish except one, and that is tho beo fly. ” Despite their antiquity, flics aro still something of a mystery, and it was not until 1884 that Dr. J. E. Roinbout, a French entomologist, discovered and ad vocated the correct theory of how a house fly walks on a ceiling. Dr. Rom- bout proved that tho fly clings to a smooth surface by capillary force, the molecular action between solid and liquid substances. Tho insect’s feet aro covered with many thousands of very fine hairs, each of wliicff terminates in a bulb. Through these hairs runs a thin liquid that sweeps through iu a tiny drop at tho end. When several thou- sauds of these drops have been fastened to a window pane or ceiling, there is no difficulty at all for the fly to hang on and no difficulty for him to release himself instantaneously. This is tho theory of Rombout, ob tained after some very fine calculations. A onco popular idea was that tho feet of tho fly, being cup shaped, enabled him through what is called suction to olipg to the Ceiling. l^ffBlnqkwcJl put flies* in a gmssvacuunq where climbed the sides as easily as in the open air. Hooke next tried to prove that tho fluid the feet of the fly sent out was viscous and hold the insect to the surface like mucilage. This theory was exploded by Rombout, who proved tha* tho fluid was not viscous. And if it were, said ho, it would bo absurd to suppose that a fly, after resting in one position for an hour aud giving the thick liquid time to harden, could re lease himself instantaneously when alarmed. Then Rombout set about formulating his own theory. He examined the tracks of flies on a window pane, aud tho idea of capillary force impressed him. He dipped the cud of a hair in oil of olives and succeeded in suspending tho hair from a clean glass pane. Water brought tho samo result as oil of olives. By a series of fine calculations Rombout found that a fly could walk upward on a vertical glass pane supporting an in crease over his own weight of .020 of a grain. Ho theu weighted down flies with paper attached to their backs and found by experiment that his reckoning was correct. Rombout, iu the course of his experi ments, discovered other very interesting things about tho fly. Each of the two wings of the insect is provided with hairs on tho underside that serve as a fine brush to clean the feet. When a fly rubs its legs, he is uot always washing his body, but is often removing the dost particles from the hair in his feet that the fluid may run better. The feet must bo kept clean, or tho fly cannot cling to a surface. He finds it impossible to walk across a pane covered with dust, aud oily surfaces cause tho liquid from is feet t9 run together, so thate anTTo hHtt'..: JLij ^ Under the wiugsota fly is a pair of balancers, littlo threads that terminate each in an oval button. When the fly is on the wing, these buttons expand and guide tho flight. A fly has no lungs, but breathes by spiracles, u*" breathing pores, that lie open all over his body aud connect with an intricate system of air tubes. These spiracles are protected from tho dust by networks of fino, filmy fibers that look something like exquisite lace work. - - * - «•• Tho chief value of the fly lies in his scavenging qualities. Indeed some scientists say that without his assist ance man would not bo able to live in the temperate zone. Tho fly feeds on both liquids and solids. His mouth is shaped something like a pump, and he sips perspiration and saliva, his favor ite foods, through fine aud cunning tubes. Solids ho reduces to liquids be fore be swallows them by a process of secretion. He is a voracious eater. It has been estimated by scientists that a fly can multiply himself 200 times every 24 hour* Each new born fly becomes full grown in four or five days. Nature has provided well for the fly in bis powers of flight and ability*te escape from danger. He is supplied with 7,000 separate eyes, that never sleep, and oan look either in front or be hind. Each eye is separate and of pecul iar construction, shaped like a hexagon. When alarmed, the fly leaps swiftly from his resting place into the air. After the first bound be is generally out of danger and resumes his leisurely flight If he chooses, however, he oan fly 25 or 80 feet in a aecomk—Kansar City Star. Mat the Hath Thai Wm Ctold. Stanley (aged 4 years)—Mamma,) please sing that lovely eoogoallod “The Hash Is Gold.” Mamma—1 don’t know ally such song about hash. Stanley. Is it a funny song? Stanley—No, indeed, magnma. It’s * “sorrow song.” Mamma—Well, I can’t think whatl yon mean. (A little later she sings from “My Deareet Heart” ‘The grave is cruel, the grave is oo1d.”> Stanley (excitedly)—That’s it mam ma—that's itt But I made a mistake.] It wasn’t the hash. It t.as th*gravy I London Tit-Bits. — v j iam- ake.] i