The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, July 12, 1879, Image 1
TRJ-WEEKLY EDWINNSBORO, S. C., JULY 12, 1879.
C., ULY 2, 179.VOL. 111.-NO. 70.
ASPIRATIONS.
Our aims are all too high, we try
To gain the summit at a bound,
When we should reach it stop by step,
And climb the ladder round by round.
lie uho would climb the height sublinio,
Or breathe the purer air of life,
Must not expect to rest il ease
But brace bimt if for toil or strife.
We should not In our blindness seek
. To grasp alone for grand and great,
U)isdainlng every smallor good
For trilles make the aggregate.
And if a oloud should hover o'or
Our weary pathway like a pall,
Iemember God permits it there,
And Hia good purposes reigns o'er all.
Life should ba full of oarnest work,
Our hearts undashed by fortuno's frows,
Let perzeveranace conquer fato,
And aerdl seize the victor's ciown.
Tite battle is not to the strong,
The race not always to the.fleet
And he who seeks to pluck the stars,
Will loso the Jewohs at his foot.
Ninon's Prince.
It was the siege of Paris. ENgenie ha
tied from the Tuileries, the provisional gov
ernment been organized under 'I'roebu. Al
Paris was in a state of wild alarm, and ti
Prussian armies were steadily making thei
way toward the city, investing one pon
after another, and rapidly cutting off al
communications between the besieged citi
and the surrounding country. Winter wa
coming on ; food and fuel were becomlinl
scarce, busIness was entirely suspended
the boulevards were filled with idle, aimles
loungers, gazing with sad and hungry eye
upon the long defile of troops that iarchee
before them. The hiavy rumble of tha
artillery wagons echoed through the streets
and the ambulances formed a sad proces
sionl, with their terrible suggestions of thn
dead and wounded for whose c,'nveyanc<
they were prepared. ''he air was heavy
with sadeness; Paris shuddered at the
thought of the suffering that it mast. en
counter, and i hitter wiil rose from the lip
of the po->r.
Into the quilet. and aristocratic precincta
of the Faubourg St. lionore the grim ghosi
of famine and bloodshed had not made theil
way, and the luxurious entresol of the fash.
ionable hotel where Ninon, the gay litth
Baronne de Valcotur, look tap her abode dur.
ing the gay Parisian Winters was all alight
with sunshine and flowers. Ninon hersell
was the dullest thing amillst all the bril.
liant glitter of ormolu, gilding and looking.
glass. She was leaning back in her cush
loned fauteuil, with the toes of her slippera
extended toward the fire and her head throwi
hack wearily, looking the very personilrle.
tion of ennui.
"Would madame eat her breakfast?" en.
quires Pifin, with nllieittietl, an o mc I
ranges the inevitable rolls and coffee on a
small table by her mistress' side. Ninoa
opens her eyes and shuts thon again, and
the coffee grows cold. Finne knows hei
fate. If this coffee is spoiled, in half an
hour she will be called upon to prepare c
fresh one, so Fifhie ventures another sug
gestion.
"Madame has no appetite?"
"Fifine you bother me. Go away."
FINine departs, but returns again in the
space of two minutes.
"Madame, voici monsieur."
Madame turns her pretty little head ant
Iakes a comprehensive glance at. the tail
young offlcer In the uniform of the Nationa
Guard who enters the salon and makes hil
way to her side.
'' The Prussians have not eaten us n1
yet?" enquires Ninon, with a yawn thal
she does not take the smallest. pains to coi
ceal.
"Not yet. Would it be a great source o:
relief to miadamne If such an event. were t<
take place ?"
"Rlathter."
''Don't you care for mec at all, Ninon ?"
"Don't be silly, miy child. Tell me wha
Ils Excellency General Trochu is about
and( when you ipropiose to stain that elegatn
uniform with Prussian gore."
"Poor ParIsI" The young oficer sighe<i
and shook his head.
"Paris Is very nice-all but the Prussians
and1( nO one Is gIvIng any p)arties. TJhat an
noy3s mue."
"Ninon are you really as hteartlesa as yi
seem ?"
''Just about. What (10 youi want. me t*
(10?"
'"Tell m1e you love mte, Ninon, just. a lit
tIle."
"Bhut I dlon't. "
1IThe hoy3Ishl lips trembled, and a grea
wave of sorrow sp)readl Itself over the falr
fresh countenance. Thea lhe knelt dldw
by her sIde, and1( a single tear fell on the lit
tic hand that he stooped to kiss.
"Ninon, Ninon, won't you love mec ?"
"You are a great stupid boy, and( ye
imust go away, or I shall never eat m;
breakfast. You are a ve'ry nice boy, Ar
mand, but you look as If you were goingt
cry."
"Ninos. I" Trhe wordl soundledl like a er
of pain.
* Then he kissed her hands(1 . gain an
turned away to leave her.
-"I shall not egme- agaIn, Nlnon."
-Madame la Baronne disflgured her p)rett
mouth -with an incredulqus lIttle mow
and the door cIQsed upon her boyish lover.
,Paris in a state of siege-a city of tw~
million inhabitants surrounded by the forc<
of a terrible enemy, and all supplies cut of)
Daily thte distress and destitution Incaset
Fafnine and disease reaped a rIch hiarvo
among the poorer inhabitants. The shoe
wini.er (lays were grhus and cold, and tl
scatnty supply of fuel and food grew lei
and less every haoutr. The streets were fille
with a gaunt and hungry crowd of despel
ate men and destiaIring women. Emeut<4
broke out in g), pats of 'the pity, and tli
uiseless bayomlets of the NationafGuard wei
-ttrned tW destroy their own follow-cit~h
Ieh adends of distress and suffering bh
ganl i6 make themselves heard even in ti
u'uuitartern of the Fatubou'rgh si
[fonore, where Ninoit do Va1cour wore oi
her dayA wailing over the dullness and drca
*iness of. tje giay capital. Ttfe hIgh pric<
dlemanded for all the niecessaties of life b<
gan to exhauast even theo princely Do Va
cour revenues.: The estabhshmnenit m(st 1
reducted and Baroness Nhman awvoke .ont. 4
her long 4re:m of Ithxury 'and lazlness
face life ft the test thue. sedeu~sly. Ti
days.*egir o ( deryCij e wAl'
pronohing, 'nd the biter cold steadily bi
e ~ ~ hilhd 6,e of th ~ wari
pop ac w ungierand hugrer att
esk disandnthe st'dang saffe
Terrible reports of distress and inisery about
her made their way to Ninon. 1ier friends
gathered around, but their discourse was
only of the horrors of the siege.
One among Ninon's friends wias mtissing
---the quick eager tread of Armand de
ltochecouur sounded no more in Ninon's
salon. That boyish form of the young olli
cer, with his untarnished uniform and un
used sword, appeared no more among her
guests. And when she found that he did
not come, Ninon bel a; tv miss him. At
first she snniled at hi, at>sc i4:e, then insensi
bly she began to watch for his coining, and
as thel days passed one after another, Ninon
grew anxious. Sometimes she would sit
alone in the twilight-the lonely little bar
oness, rich in everything but love-and the
sweet, lip)s would mnurnur, "'At least he
loved me, le bebe " '' Then a deep far-off
look would cone into the brillirnt eyes.
"Where is the prince ?"
It was the evening of the 29th of Novem
ber. Ninon was sitting alone, watching
the slow motions of the hands of the clock
as they pointed to eleven, when a quick,
hurried tread sounded behind the chair, and
the clanking of a sword startled her.
"Armand !" she exclaimed, as she turn
ed and encountered the excited glance of
the young soldier.
"Yes, Ninon. At last Paris is roused.
''o-morrow there will be a grand sortie.
'The order has been given. With a hundred
thousand men we shall leave -Paris, march
upon Champigny-o to Villiers. I)ucrot
has sworn to re-enter Paris 'only victorious
or dead." I have comne to say good-by.
Before to-morrow night Prussian ball or
bayonet may have' quieted forever the
heart that loves you so passionately. Kiss
me, Ninon ; say God bless you I"
Then lie sank down at her feet, and laid
his head upon the little hands that rested on
her knee.
Ninon lifted the brown hair from the fair
young forehead ; a moment her lips rested
there, and she murniured, ''God bless you,
my Armand !" Then lie pressed her for a
moment passionately against his heart, and
left her.
In the moi-ning the troops were in mot ion.
Paris thronged the streets and crowded the
windows on each side to watch the sad pro
cession as it passed. Cheer after cheer rent
the air; "Vive la France 1" "A la vic
toire !" sounded from the throats of the
lookers-on as the long defile wound its way
to the gates. Tho well-drilled men marched
silent ly along, their countenances grave and
severe. They were about. to make a last
ettort for Paris-for France. With stern
and set, determination they moved forward,
looking neither to the right nor left, lest th e
sorrowful faces of the women they loved
sl1ould unnerve their hearts and unsteady
their hands. After them followed the ar
tillery, the wagons loaded with provisions,
and-oh, sickening sight 1-the ambulances
that would convey so many of the brave
men, now leaving the city with buoyant
tread, back again within its walls. wounded,
hilnl-aq atnd vinr.
At the hend of his conipany rodt Aruand
de Rochecour. With head erect, and lips
firmly compressed to avoid their trembling,
he led his men past the windows of the
boulevard where Nin'on de Valcour stood
watching the exit of the troops from the
city. lie did not turn his head, but the
hand that. held the bridlo rein shook as the
heavy tread of his powerful horse bore him
slowly beyond the gaze of the bright eyes
that looked down upon him.
Quietly Ninon watched him go, steadily
she looked after his retreating form. A
soft mist clouded the flashing eyes, and' as
the distance hid him from her view she
nuirured, gently, "Armand, God watch
over thee I'
All (lay long, that terrible 80th of No
vember the Incessant roar of cannon echoed
back Into the stillmess of the city's streets.
Paris held her breath in anguish. I1er
best, her bravest and her noblest were
lighting for her deliverance, in deadly p)eril,
just outside the city walls. Outside the
wails the sickening dIramna of batt,le, with
all the horrid accomp)aniiments of tumult,
noise and bloodshed; inside, the no less
horrible torture of susp)ense, as those left.
blehind waitedl with blanched faces an:d
bated breath for niews from the scene of
conflict.
Among the foremost in thme strife on that
terrible morning rode the b)oylsh oflcer,
Armand die Rlocheccmr. Th'le pure blood
of his .Norman ancestry courses wildly
through his veins t.o-dlay. France was his
life, and he would give h!s life for Franice.
Ilis hatred to the p)lebeian Boinapartes, of
the odious republic, wvere all forgotten, when
for the first tline he found himnself face to
. face with the foreign foe who dared to at
t ack the very capital and strike at the heart,
of his sacred land of France.
t Farly in the aft.ernoon Champigny yield
edl to the passionate attack of the fresh
French troop)s. Amazed at their (defeat,
-the Germans fell back to recover from their
bewilderment produced by this-amost
their first-reverse. Trhen, rallying from
a their surp)rise, ireinforccd with fresh troops
and protected by their batteries, they fell
Supon the French with a sudden fury. Dis
o mayed by the unexpected attack, wecary
. with a long clay's fighting, the half-disci
plinied French soldiery fell back. With a
wlild feeling, half fury, half dlespamir, Ar
lmand sa.,v the line give way. "Cowardls,"
ho muttered below his breath. Then turn
ing suddenly to his meni, lie cried: "Cour
,agel Will you go back to your wonien and
tell themi you fled before Prussian guns?
On, on I Conquer or die like Frenchmen!"
o Then lie rode forward ; but the terrified,
a panie-stricken men were deaf to his call,
i and suffered him to go alone. With his
.right arm uplifted lie rushed toward the
,t Prussian line. With the cry still on his
t lips, a fragiment of a shell struck the powv
Serful right arm, shattered it as if it were the
a rotten branch of a tree, and tore its way
d across the fair boyIsh forehead just above
.the eyes. Prone on thme earth lay the pow
e erf ul form of the brave young officer. A
e cry of adiniration rose from the lips of the
*e men behind him. They turned and fled,
and left hiim to his fate. .,
-~ The evening shadows fell over the battle
e plain, quieting the noise and strife; the
.fighting ceased.' The Prussiain guns were
t sIlent and -the Fr ch troops retiredatt
l y back toward PaN. On the btan
e~ dusky forms came flit&iEgifaT - C6IM "
y.. sable uniforms, relieved ont t* -
I- cross of Genevau, they went ea lent -
se mierciful errands, Two of' tliu --.
>f ing spirits bend over the formu of Mmiin
,o do hiochecamur. "Deadt poor fell Wiu
~e asks one. "No, he brethes." Then they
.lifted him'gently uje~n the tihulance; \And
*theo brave young offcer wlso rpde tt ft in
g~ thte gateel of Parl* that morning full of l1,
eeelh:ad turage, is borneap el agtun
r. Iblid; %iniured. tile fht gone bYt from 'hla
eyes forever, and i the powerful form with
its strength and beauty forever crippled.
They lay him on a narrow bed In a caowded
hospital. The gentle hands of a Sjster of
Charity dressed the terrible wounds, and as
i she looks at him she nurmurs, pityingly,
'Poor fellow, lie is blind!''
Ninon has listened all (lay to the soimnd
of that terrible cannonading, waited all
night in f rightened surprise for news fromt
the scene of battle-for tidings from Ar
mad de Iochceaur. In the morning do
word has conie, and the suspense grows
more and more intolerable every moment.
Dark circles have appeared under the brown
eyes, and their ba illiancy i. all faded, gone
out in that long night of watching. liest
lessly Ninon paces the long salon. Finally
a sudden impulse seizes her. " I will go
and find him."
It was a long and weary search. ''hey
direct her frot one place to another. The
streets are filled with a hnrrying, eager
crowd, each intent upon his own affairs,
and it Is long before she can find any one
who can tell her where to look for him.
At last they direct her to the hospital where
he is lying. Ninon passes between the
long rows of beds, sees the suffering faces
of the men that 1111 them, listens to the
groans of the suffering and dying, andi the
tears fill her eyes and roll down upon her
blanching cheeks. "it is too much for
madamle to witness," suggests a young stir
geon. "No, no; If they must, suffer it,
why should I not see it," and tlie spoiled
child of luxury btaces up her nerves and
goes on o meet the sorrow that lies before
her.
She finds him at last. As she approaches
his bedside she trembles. She looks at the
white bandages that lie upon his eyes and
shoulders. 'I'hen she speaks to him, and
the glad smile that flits across his lips re
assures her. His single hand goes out to
meet hers, and he tries to speak. A warn
ing gesture from the nurse attracts Ninon's
attention, and she whispers, "Do not talk,
Armand, you must get well first I"
From an old soldier who watched over
him Ninon learned the history of the sortie.
As she listgne(d to the story of how bravely
the young soldier bore hhnself ont that
dreadful day, and how he fell when, goaded
to fury by- the desertion of his men, lie
rushed forward alone upon the Prussian
line, Nimon's heart swells with a new and
sweet emotion. The lovely mouth wears
its happiest smile. There is a look of new
ly found happiness in the brown eyes. Su(d
denly they fill with tears, and the little lips
murmur softly, "I have found him,
the prince."
Then the Sister of Charity comes and
whispers gently and pityingly, ". Madamne,
he will be blind."
All the horror contained in that dreadful
sentence sinks into Ninon's soul, and with
a voice whose utterance is choked with sobs
cries out, "Armand, my love! Glod help
you I"
Then she lifts her tearstailned face, lit up
ll+;a11 is r.f,.. ..' ..." .
and looktg at the sympathetic coUiitonance
of the poor sister, whispers, "He shall see
with my eyes."
The sister looks into the depths of the
lovely eyes raised to hers and thinks, " lie
is not so much to be pitied, the brave man."
Through long nights of fever and days of
weary restlessness Ninon wat'chcs by her
lover's side. Strength returns to the crip
pled body, but the sorrowful eyes wear al
ways that helpless, vacant expression pecu
liar to the blind, and the strong right arm
is roresented only by ain empty sleeve.
le is not forbidden to speak now ; and
one day as lie hears Ninon's footstep by his
bedside, and the soft rustle of her dress as
she bends over him, lie says, "You are il
ways with mite, Ninon, are you not, or do I
dreain it ?"
"I am always with you, Armland."
"What brings you here?"
"Because I lovo you, dear."
''Love me ?-hut I am a cripple atnd
blind."
"'Yes, Armiand. Your right arm and~
your eyes you have given to France. Will
you give the rest to ame?"
"'Ninon I" aund the left armt, the oiily one
lie hias, draws her quickly anid pamssionately
to his side. Her soft breath plays against
his cheek, and ass lips11) mteen hers sIte
whispers, '"Armand, my p)rince, I love
you."
Hygiene of Cellars.
Perhaps no class of people live under
coniditions in sonte respect more Insantitary
tIhan does the farmer. WhIle lhe haus an
abundance of fresh, health-giving air all
about him, he oftetn through ignorance or
neglect, himuselves prepares at home the
most effective means possible for mhaking his
home a hot-bed of disease. Somiethinas in
anothter, the laws of sanitary rectItude are
violatedl ; pterhiaps more, often the evil ap
pears under tha house, beneath the very
foundations of the home, where thte mnalign
influence can be applhed most thoroughly
and effectively. Dr. R. C. Kedzie, Presi
dent of the Michigan State Board oflHealth,
and Professor of Chemistry in the State
Agricultural College, has contributed to the
last annual report of the State Board of
Health a imost admirable paper on "1Healthy
homes for Farmters," fronm which we ex
tract the following ; we shtall give our
readiers more extended and equally valuable
extracts front thte same source at soite fu~
ture time :"Go dowin Into thte cellar and
exatuinte thtefoundationsof life ; see wbethter
the cellar Is dry aind well ventilated, and
the air sweet and wholesome ; that novege
tahbles and useless rubbish of any kind are
left to rot it your cellar. Or do you find
all kinds of things going to decay, the cel
lar wet. thte walls slimy, mtold spreading
over everything, and a close andl stiflingr
odor pervading thte air of the cellar ? If
these itanimate things could give voice to
their warning, what a sound would startle
our ears ini htfndreds of cellars in our State.
'Here lie it ambush diphtheria and tmetn-.
branus croup, the destroyers 'ef childhood,
and typhoid fever, thtat strikes at all ages;i
here lurk the seeds of consumption to bring
forth the slow but sure liarvest 'of lamenta
tion and woo l' 'For the atone as)I cry
the b)eamt out of timber
~AI~1t though thtese voice.
4M~'~?word-of warning, they
aa~ ~g 'sof danger ; the spotted
'cdfungus attacking the timbers .of
cellar show that destructive agencies
Saeat work, Why, man I death is gnaw
ing the very sills of your' house, and sh,afl
he spare those . tender morsels, your chi
dren?t hs damp, iustmoldy clers
are se-beds offiAedeLe. not slope 'td
preerve healtlt over $noll danfl hpoij
Do nt lay.yegetais,to rot in your c
at tO apread rottenness through alld
Not One Friend In all Amerla.
There was a day when 'Talleyrani
arrived in I,avre, in great haste fron
Parla. It was in the darkest hours o
the French Revolution. Pursued b'
the bloodhounds of the Reign of Ter
ror, stripped of every wreck of proper
ty or power, ''alleyraud secured a pas
sage to America in a ship about to sail
lie was going a beggar and a wanderei
to a atrange land, to earn his bread b3
his daily labor.
"Is there tny American staying tv
your house?" he asked the landlord o:
his hotel. "im bound to cross th(
water, and would like a letter to somt
person of infludntv in the New World.'
The landlord hesltated a imomen;
and then replied4
"There is a gentleman up stairs eith
or from America or Britain ; but wheth
er an American or Englishian I can
not tell."
le pointed the way, and Talleyrand
who in early life was bishop, priIce,
and afterwards a prime minister, as
conded the stairs. A iserable suppli
ant, he stood before the stranger's door,
knocked, and entered.
In the far corner of the dimly light
ed room sat a gentleman of some fifty
years, his arms folded, and his head
bowed on his bredst. From a window
directly opposite, a flood of light pour
ed over his forehead. Ilia eyes, looking
from beneath the downcast brows,
gazed in Talleyrand's face with a pecu
liar and searching expression. Hils
face was striking in its outline, the
mouth and chin indileative of an iron
will. his form, vigorous, even with
the snows of fifty winters, was clad in
a dark, but rich and distinguished cos
tume.
Talleyrand advanced, stated that lie
was a fugitive, and under the impres
slon that the gentleman before him
was an American, lie solicited his kind
feeling and offices, poured forth his his
tory in eloquent French and broken
English.
"I am a wanderer-an exile : I am
forced to fly to the New Woi ld, with
out a friend or hope. You are an
American. Give me, I beseech you, a
letter of yours, so that I may be able to
earn my bread. I am willng to toil in
any manner; the scenes of Paris have
tilled me with such horror, that a life
of labor would be a paradise to a career
of luxury in France. You will give
me a'letter to ohe of your friends. A
FAg1B?g.luan likesjuo.has doubtless many
'Tile strange gentleman rose. With
a look at 'I'alleyrand never forgot, he
retreated towards the door of the next
chamber, his head still downcast his
eyes looking still from behind his dark
cned brow. He spoke as lie retreated
backwards-his voice was full of mean
ing.
"I am the only man born in the New
World who can rise his hand to God
and say, I have not a friend, not one in
all America I"
'I'alleyran d never forgot the over
whelmning sadness of the look that ac
conpanied these words.
"Who are you?" lie cried, as the
strange gentleman retreated towards
the next room. "Your name?"
My namuel--witlh a smile that had
more mockery than joy. in its convul
sive exp)ression-"My namle is Benedict
Arnold !"
'He has gone. Tialleyrand sank in a
chair, gasping thle words
"Arnold, the Traitor I one wvho has
betrayed lisa country."
Tinuls Arnold wandered over the
earth, another Cain, withl a wanderer's
mark on his brow. Even in the se
cluded room, at that Inn of Ifavre, his
crime found him11 ont, and for ced him to
tell Is nanme-thlat name the synonym
of infamy.
*The last twenty years of Arnold's life
wore covered with a cloud from whose
darkness but few gleams of light
flanh out upon~ the page pf history.
Three Indian Mkeletonas.
WilIe workmen were engaged inexcavat
ing cellars l'rom proposed changes in the(
houlses of Mr. Jacob Heck, of South Fourth
street, Eanstonl, Pa., recenttly, the skeletons
of three -Indians- were' unearthed, one of
whiohi is supp)losed to be that of a female.
Only one of the bodies had been placed ini
a naturally extended position, the other'two
being placed in a sitting, half-reclining pos5
Lure. The bones were all-in good condition.
Tile skeletons were about two feet undor
'thie surface. With them were found beads,
p)ipes, rings 8and trinkets. One of the rings
had the appearance of being mnade -of old
iron. The portion of tile town where the
skeletons were found is the oldest inhlaited1
part of tue borough. When tile house was
first built, twenty-six years ago, five skee
tens were dug up. An O1ld citizen, over
eighty years of age, says that when lie was
ten years old they used to dig up skeleton.
in thle samlocaity, and that at that time(
none of th~e Inhabitants remembered of hav
lng seen Indians burled i,n that8 portion of
the town. This shows thaat thle bones haye
been there for over one hundred years. .
Marie Loutes Girthie.
A golden girdle presented by Napoleon.L
to thme Emtpress Mario Louise is in a Londom
auction roon. It is forjned of two narrov
b)ands of open work, set with pearls in th(
formo1of. the.Greekhioneyuckje at the edges,
iid .jo)ning at the entre with *t large an
tique onyx cameo of Apollo. an~d a muse,
from which hangs a long. pendsunt increas
lng in width down to the lowest edge, wher<
it. ls ornamented with five imperial crowns,
each hiavig ai tfssel'of lIe pearls. Th<
pendantt, being flexible, 1*spadp of broat
openi work linkp of t tyM~~ nA, rqpeate4
alternatoly, an.$ K4uaiargje pp larges
from thiQ,wRlQg owIw T4.fioe Qe (
utmost elegance amnfin
A Landi i1 iro"i-u by 31an. lc
,, in one of his voyages, while (aptaiii it
el,
T 'ripp> was must er of the hark A ret ic, I(! e
f reached as Iigh as latitude 73 degrees. Inill
1870 Wriigel's 1and wiIS elear of ice, aindi '
in 1871 his ship was wiithin a mile of the e
. shore of that lald, which no huInan hting hiE
has ever st-ppe(t iponl, so liu- us history tl
telis. ''h)is diesolate islaiind lies 4o the ti,t1I- V
West of I lk-ring's Straits, anld nearly in (14
hlatiitide 7-1 degrees and west longitude '8I
r degrees. It nuay be as large its (;uba, or to
fir larter; but, inlike tlIt tropie island, it br
is given over t4 ey iesolation--and possi- kit
bly to seals aid polar hears. h'arry, in fl
1827, working nortlward awty to the east lle
of this unknown lanl, mtade his way about t
8 degrees farther north; and Kine went up, w
on the tlreenland side, to ibout HI degrees;
but, though the Pacitle side is evidently the
right way for a voyage to the 'ole, this 1
latitude of 80 degrees has never bee.n tni
acIhievedI im the neighbocrhood of \Vrangel's ti
Land, unless by whalers, who 'ould not it
land. Of this unknown latnd (aptain Tripp it
saw someth ang, in 1hat favorable ice seasoin ti,
of 1871. With the tid of a splendid glass, b
lie got a goo(d view of the land, btt was (el
unable to see any human habitat ions, or ti
evidence thereof. No animal life was visi- 1113
ble save sea-birds, that flitted in mid-airIuly
along the shore. The earth was green, no
snow being visil9le anywhere. A coast
range is visible from the oceatn, which re
semibles the coast regions along our P'aee
shore. Shrubs were plainly visible, but
Captain Tripp was unable to discover tiny
large tirees or forests. Wrangel's Land
runs northwest, and, so far us known, ex
tends indefiuitely into regions never pene- i:
trated by man, unless it he the Esquimtnaux. Ut)
The Indiatls inhabiting that portion of Alas
ka bordering on the North Pole have no C
traditions that any people have ever been "L
seen on Wrangel's Land, though they state sta
that dcor of a variety unknown to Alaska can
have been found on I lerald Island, in the six
heart of the Arctic, and on1 which the fee
land named can be distinctly seen. It. is
supposed that, the animals Made heir wa ri
across the ice from the mainltand of \Vrtn- pI
gel to the island. No canoes, clothing or at
relics of any kind have drifted from Wran- at
gel's Land to Alaska, as an indicntion that adr
another race of human beings existed in the the
unexplored regions of the Arctic. Still, it we
is believed by those sea captains who havei
taken close observations that the mysterious
country alluded to is habitable. ''hie fact cct
that no snow was to be seen, that vegetti- ri
tion looked green and vigorous, and that to 1
mountains loomed ip in the distance, as the
sheltering fortresses for the valleys, are so feel
many proofs that Inuamity could find ta tak
foothold there. It seems that no whaling sec
captains have ever attempted to land on
Wrangel's Land, but, it must be remembered W
that they visit the arctic regions as business to
meon, anid not as exp)lorers. Captaini Tripp) abl
says that if the North Pole is ever to be tenl
discovered the discovery will be maie from han
the Pacific side, as navigators can reach in t
WitaxiWmcefa:. ther north o .tie Pacific jrn
clinatic rigors that beset explorers on the hat
Atlantic. At Kotzebue Sound, at the
mouth of Buckland river, Captain ''ripp frot
saw land 7U feet high, beneatb which a ig
stratum of ice was distinctly visible. At oue
Point Barron the land is only six feet above eon
the ice, all beneath being a strat,um of con- wa
gealed water. !!ow deep this stratum is, t e
remains unknown, but it is certain that the the
earth has gradually formed itself on the
Ice. There is reason to believe that Wran- tho
gel's Land is of like formation, at .least 1es
along the shore. There is no telling how roc
far the ice body extends inland as a sub- i ft
stritum. out
A Miuclievoiue Monkey. ltet
. Little Jack is the funl of the whole (age, gra
and at the same time lie is the plague and
torment of the inhabitants thereof. lie Is s
about as large as a htlf-grown cat, andu, Ca1,
thocughL quit.o a baby, has the face of tin the
old tman. iIe is a rhesus, the Bhuinder, or ling
sacred monkey of Indhi. lie is remark able mli
for agility. Ilis eyes are full of intellgence the
anid as qmuiek as ia hawks. lie Is a regular te
Paul Pry, and hntrudes himaself julst where- t
ever lie is not wanted. 'Thus, wvhen Ti'ny sti I
and .Jennmy have nestled themselves in a lai
corner, little Jack jumpls right into the mid-- or in
dIe of the group anti does his best to up)set led;
the pamrty'. Like all little peop)le, lie has a gras
great idea of lis owni eonsequence, antd fas
thinks that I-his master-anm terribly l
afraid of him, for he makes tat ine the mostso
hideous faces and chautters in a manner that be0
onie would think lie was a big gorilla ; at it F
least, perhaups lie Is in lisa own estimnatioti, bii
lie can't bear being laughed tit, atnd if 1 moi0
laugh at him lie gets p)erfectly savage. 1t say
Is a curious thing, but, I always knowv when ey
It is getting on for onie o'clock by thme muon- a
keys beglinmg to cry out for their dinner. Lt
'They all have differenit voices, tind I know mii
thIese voices as *ell as I know the voicesotf We
peop)le about me, Triiy Is ai Moonai mlontkey, 51m3
and she alnost says the word "Moo-nia" in 1
her cry ; it, Is a pretty nielantchioly cry. lea]
When angry she makes a different noise ; up
whion eating or warm she girunts with satis- er
faction, amnd they say I grunt like her.
Jenny has a trembling whine. Little .Jack wa
chatters "'kik-kik-kik," atmd when lie Is in n
troumble he screams most feairfuilly. The the
mnarmio'ett's niote Is a very high, squeaky, an1
p)laintive note, like that of a bat. Ile htis car
also anoithier mnote which I cannot describe ; I
it is of anger or fear. si
When the dinner of boihled potatoes la
brought up the monkeys sit round thme plaite,
cacti one eating as fast, as lie calm.' It is thi
thien that their selfishness Is fully demon- no~
strated. There Is an old riddhe: "Why
does a dog carry a bone in his mouth ?
Amns. Because lie lhas no poci<et to put, it
ini." Most monkeys hatve check p)ouchies,
andi I am sure the reason why they hmavo rat
p)ouchles is as.follows :J Their ntitu)ral hiabi- Go
tations is in tk'ces. They comue downon tihe U-n
groumnd for isects. iMy monkeys are par- cum
ticularly fontd of meal-worms. Thtey .col- 015
let their food on the ground and put It in
their pockets-thaat is, pouchie-and,go up ani
Into the .trees agalin to finish their dinner.
Trhey, therefore, when the potatoes. arrive, kit
set to work eating as hard as thjey can. son
Th'ley fill thecir pouches at $h, sama .tiidid.
Litdeo Jack has very large , pouches ; ino riat
trace of them can be.seen at ordinary tinioe,
but at d1inter time he fillila ' ponchies to ct
such an:extent.that the two of them putt to- Exo
gether are nearly as big as ide whole head. de~
I Well, onme day the.'two.a elderly monkeys.
I were sitting on the perch in ithe cage, fin- to
eIshaing off: the contenits -of .their. ponchde, SliK
e and their, tails were hangingstraight down sol
i fronhthe pereb. Whrlat niuat, rascally, little
i Jaclk to but takeo Tiiy's tall jms one,. die
p. ~qad e tail to tjwe,9tjer, ~g eth,~l
Tsbroght time -twpj, 9(0 OgJ %o; the W
floor of the cage In an Idtatant. 1hey i,vere Go
tit furious at being thus lnterrupted
imer Iime ; they asked no ineati ons, 1
'h thinking the other had instlled Ih
gIan to light in i most, utloving matn
tey graplelcd and rolled over and over I
atiinatted ball. They don't hurt the
ves when fighitlug; their teeth are i
enough. I can always stop them
owing cold water on them. While I
're lighting little Jack kept ju'npi
wnit upn thetm, 10 keep (hem going, i
re. 'rhe rascal was iueh too aceive e
get cauiglt. 'I'he noise of the coitl
tighlt up .etmtty the surricale fIrot I
eien below. Jenmiy was pickein up 1b
.id of mine near" the It('ape of (ood Ill
is abotti the size of a large rat, and I
ike i nitntgoose inl appeiaraince. Ile
y tIns tup when nuonkey light, is y
on, atnd, as usual, upl my gentlemi
es, tail erect and flr. all bristled up, I
ke hitself took hig. It so happen
.t dluring this fight 'Tiny's tail project
ought the har"s. .1emtnty inmiediateiV I
vith his sharp teeth. Tiny thougit
w little Jack that had done this, so s
ned and humted him all over the cap
she could not catclh him. I,ittle Ja
it popping itn and out the sleepitg ho
I then .emmny joined in the hunt. .lei
kept guard outside the cage and I
'body's tail as their tails happened
ie out from the hars. Altogether, the
a nice row and little .Jack, as 1lsil
at the hottot of it.
An Avenitro.
ltarles May and his brother Roher
the spring of 1870 otlered to pa
)00 railroad ties down tho Arkansi
In the mountain source. lie say
ur offer was aecepted, when t
rted into 'the upper enitrance of 11
on with a large skiff provided w!t
dhys' provisions anitd two hundre
t of rope, with which, by taking
tiug turn around some irmil
nted object, we could lower our bot
unired feet at a titue. In this wa3
the end of three days, having se
ift miany hundred ties, we reache
entrance to the Royal Gorge. .lei
discovered to descend the fill
ter-fall with two in the boat' wi
Ltin destruction, and to return wat
)ossible. Aecordilgly I determine
ower my brother down the full I
boat, a distance of two hundre
give him the rope, and let hit
3 the chtanecs of' the canon (lif
ned matore certain in that direction]
le I would risk my physical abilit
climb the cauon wall, which wa
lit two thousand feet high. Abou
o'clock in the morning I shoo:
d with my brother, lowered hir
lie boat safely to the foot of the fall
n..kim the rono .aI1 saw lim n
and boots, and stripping the sock
n Iimy feet, I collenced my climb
way, often reaching the height a
or two hundred feet, only to b
Ipelled to return to try some othe
r. At length, about four o'clock ii
afternoon, I reached a height upoi
snooth canionl wall of about
usand feet. Here my further prog
t was arrested by a shelving ledge c
k that jutted out from the canon sid
tot or more. To advance was with:
hope; to return, certain deatit
tcling upward and outward
sped the rim of the ledge with on
id and then with the other, my fe(
ped from the smooth side of th
on and miy body hung suspended i
air, a thousalt feet above the roai
waters of the Arkansas. At thr
nont I looked dowvnward to measur
distatace I wouild have to fall whot
strength e'' my arms gave out.
Iginig sensution erept throught m
r' as my eye caught the strong roc
Citil b ush tha a projected over th
ge-a little beyond my reachl. M
sp upon1 tihe rim of the ledge was
yiel yleig to the weight of my peu
.iThen I dietermifinedi to make ma
t efl'or't to raise my body' and throi
ideways towards the root so ast
ig it within my grasp. At thu
inent of dommtencing the effor't,
namy miothier's face as she leanie
r the ledge, reachied dlowtn her hian
I caught me by the hair. Strangei
mother dIed whIle yet a youn
inian, when I and my brotheir weri
ill1 boys, but I roeember her fact
Vas sutccessful in mnakinig the aid
p~ of liy armis, wvhen I drew myso:
m the ledge. and rested awhlil<
um here upwaird my climbitng wao
laborious, but less -dangerous.
ehed tihe top of the cannon jnst t
snnt was sinkitng downm behind th
'WY range, arid hastened to ot
19l at tihe mouth of the canon, wvhea
mud my brother all safe. ' Charley
I lie, 'have you had your head In
ir sack.' It was theni discovere
.t my hair was as white as you see
. A Neat Trick,
t younig man in full uiniform of a Proi
mr's decretary, called lst week onu ti
vernor4General of Chiarkow, Rusqi
irteously saluting, said lie, "M!. the Pr
ateur' begs ydur Excelley to be so got
0 conie at onoo to hisa office."
'Anfthinug very inyortant?" was ti
Wor.'
'We are'on the tradk of Prince Krape
's murder'er, and youlr Eke*lleney's pr
ce is most necessary."
'Good I [iwill ring and .ordef' the cdi
'Pray d~o dolt iroubniid1$atrhel . Thb Pr
ateu*r-hasrAent bis olvn ar'rIa 'd fof 'ye
cellency thatt nd thhe bd 198,; ofer'yhl
>onds 6mn bxpdditiobride~."
r'he Gbtetnor & dti 3'd nian go I
the ca fag'e, dan4' ld Ini ad
ce lOiid dedn. -aTik G' xh6t li hill
fallen into the hands df'thlP"Nihlilge
l'he heaud of.ths..nohlc hat sin gf
at ttetoring the )rowncd.
rut Apply heat to the drowned body.
rr, Get it war. 'lhis Is all. Only get it
i warm. I deserve no credit for the re.
1m- ceipe. I discovered it, one morning
lot wheni a boy. ''here was no wit nor
by wisdom Ill the discovery. It was made
(' accidentally. One wintry afternoon,
1 I found a chicken lying in a frozen
pool of water. The half that was fro
zen by the water was frozen still'. I
he picked up the cr' ature, took it into the
a kitchen, and laid it on the stove a
e. minute to thaw out, so that I might
of pluck it. Presently Its head lifted
slightly and dropped. In a minute or
m so its body Iluttereid. I took it up and
o found that it was alive. Now the ex
A planation of the thing is very simple.
d the heat acted upon the nervous een
)it tres of the chleken, these uponl the
e ieart, this uponm the blood. The blood
e, began to circulate, and the chickeni be
k gaIn to breathe. Of course the chicken
x, had becn dead. Everybody knows how
u- frozen fish come to life again wh6im
t warmel. A miin digs a hole in the lee,
to brings imp some 1lopping pickerel, and
throws themt on the ice. But any fish
ermatn will tell that after remaining
frozen for two or three days--weeks,
for aught I kno-iv--they can be resus
cttated. Now It Is the same with the
hiumant body. Take a drowned man,
wrap a warm blanket around the body
s 1pour warm water--as war1m as the Ilesh
will bear-on the blanket, which will
eproduce anl equtally distributed warmth
in the body, and life will be restored,
I no matter if lie has been dead for days.
Why, I. have saved many cases. The
I llrst was that of a man who fell oil' ia
boat him Lake Erie. The captain tol
lowed my directions irnmediately, and
they wore successful. I have often
tried the experiment on dogs. One
summer I drow ned the same dog twenty
times, and brought him around all
i right each tiime. You can take thost
s (logs at the pound oim the East river,
warm them up well, and make them
alive again as easily as not.'' In cor
roboration of this assertion, Dr. La1m
bert pulled out a memorandum book,
1 and proceoded to read extracts from
letters lie had received, and tiei cited
intstances of the operation of the cure.
lie is an earnest believer li the doe
trine of the possible resuscitation of the
t drowned. "Wrap i in flannel I" Ie
exclaimed, "and soak the flannel with
warni water. That Is all !"
" -.w._.t -. v" u+vaiLLUtmg,.
b'a'k btweeti an 1'ramiiaoo~an1iYm
boldt Bay, our provisions consisted on
f the down trip, in most cases, of elk
p meat purchased at IIumboldt Bay, 'and
r Ilvariably hung up1) in the rigging, cov
ered with eannvas. IJpon two occasions
when two hindquarters from the same
animal were hung up side by side, the
. erew sometime In the night uncovtlred
f one of them to cut off some pieces' for
e bait for the numerous fishes following
- in our wake, and neglected to replace
the canvas covering. In ti morning
i the cook noticed that time niap had a
e slimy appearance, but not sspecting
e anything, cut oil sunu ry slices to cook
e for breakfast. The result was tha't the
n wimole ship's comnany were nmadeik,
-myself included, wimieh the captain onm
t linspetinmg time quar'ter~ of ment, dedmded
e was owving to the eflects of' time moom'sm
I mrays, and ordem'ed it to be thrmownm dver
t board ; but thme imate ridienling thmis
y idea, directed time steward to slice oil'
t mnore of time same for his dinnmer; and
0 at time sanme tinme two of the crew ate of'
y time tainted mecat. Thme restuit was .tihat
s all thmroe wvere made extremply sick,
- with symptoms resemiblitig thmose of
V chmoera-viz: voumitimng,. eramps, etc.
i' Thme rest of time crew who ate from tihe
o other leg, were not aff'ected, and w,o ate
t fmrom time onme thmat remnained until ournm
I arrival 1mm San Franmciseo. 1 fumae Sen
I inm China seas twvo 01' three inotances (of'
d men who hmad slept on deck exposed to
time rays of thie full moon being attacked
g withm "mmooni blindnmess," that Is, tinable
e to see 1in tihe nighmt, thmoughm per'fectly
ale to see in time diaytimne. Thmese at
Stacks after' a tinmo wore off.- Ath'ough
not sunprstitiouis f. fully believe lhm the
banefuli efl'eets of time moon's rays. I
Ytink that thmese effects;atre nmore pmreva
lent in time tropical water, espoolally iln
a time P?acifle amnd Indian oceans, anid only
unmmder cloudless skies.
e 33Big Grape Vines. '
CalifQrnmia has, probably, .20 yines,
aeach of wvhioh produces more thapm 500
lbs. of' grapes as, anavag. rp
Anmong those are vines at Colotm and
Blakes, and near Monteoito and Stock
ton-representing the Sierra N'evada,
the coast mountains nmorthm of SanTFranm
-. ohsco, time San .Joachimi Valley#, time
0southern coast,-the level of theoda, and
.an elevatori of 8000 feet abo1ve 1t4 Thme
Stoekton vine, a tnile' southodst' of the
town,:In the yard of Mr'hIelps'-house,
~,Is a foot im diameter, and has this year
produced 5000; lbs. (AM totshfAge6rGing,
t- to the 'Independenta, W9 ghtoh
5- nothing la ey of. the yield Qf*.ia lN
199i1Qit and ~9oobIg ,vineS,.:'.W ya
o 4att,.1n,65w~ yp,itg ud it
mtime d~I : 'tth 9, set
out In 17 nwd ott 6 bhi'