The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, August 28, 1879, Image 1
TI-WEEKLY EDITION. W INNSBORO, S. C., AUG UST 28, 1879. VOL. III.-NO. 90.
BY THE 88A.
My blue-eyed pet with golden hair
Is sitting on my knee,
And gazes eagerly afar,
Across the beach, beyond the bar,
Where rolls the restless sea.
She puts her little hand in mine,
And laughs with cbildish lee,
To see the foaming billows splash,
As on the shoro t'oy fiercely dash,
Thou glide bac' jilently.
But while she laughs so merrily,
My heart is far away ;
And as I look upon the shore;
Whore loud and long the breakers roar,
My sad soul seems to say :
' The sea is like a human life ;
It breaks upon the shore
Of time with a resistless might;
And when the goal is just in sight,
Dies-to return no more.
"And all along the shores of time
Full many a wredk doth lie ;
The pangs of many a mad carouse,
Of blasted hopes and broken vows,
Of happy days gone by."
Yet, while I muse in mournful mood,
And gazo upon the s a,
My blue-eyed pet with golden hair, .
Whose heart has never known a care,
Still sitr upon my knee.
Her heal is resting on my breast
h er eyes in slumber deep ;
The se ti rough sea whose breakers roar,
And radly, fiercely lash th+o shoro,
Has lulled my child to sloop.
Trust and Love.
To morrow I am going to be married. I,
who have been set lown as an old maid for
an indefilite number of years. The expect
ed event creates quite a commotion in our
hitherto quiet household. My mother says,
"What can I do without you ?" And my
dear father, whose dark hair begins to be
sprinkled with silver, says, mournfully, "I
cannot spare my Caroline," though I think
he is secretly pleased that his pet "Carry"
is to have such a noble husbnnd after all.
My roguish brother 'Ton gou's about the
house singing
There is no goose, however gray,.but soon or late
.ihe'll hind seine honest gander for hor mat, .
And I-all this seems very strange to me.
I cannot realise it that the bridal dress of
snowy stain, with the gossamer ve: and
wreath of orange flowers, can be for plain
Caroline Hudson. But the strangest of all
is, that I am to marry John Grant-John
Grant whom I learned to love years ago,
but all thoughts of whom I strove to put
far fr< ine.
It is six years now since that morning in
early summer, when we walked together
through the green wood, the leaves stirred
by a gentle wind, and the birds singing
their morning gongs. We were a little
apart from the rest of our party, and when
we had gathered our hands full of wild
flowers that were scattered in profusion at
our feet, we set down upon a felled oak to
wait for them. I was happy on that June
morning, as I sat on that old tree by the
side of John Grant, while he wreathed the
buds and blossoms and the green leafes of
the trailing convolvulons among the braids
of my brown hair.
We did not talk much th'it morning, and
we had sat in silence several moments,
when John suddenly said, "Caroline, I
want to tell you something." It was not
the words that made my heart beat so and
the hot blood rush to my cheeks and fore
head, for we had known each other for a
long time, and he had often made a confi
dant of me-.but it was the low tone, full
of now and strange tenderness, that thrilled
my whole being. I do not know, but per
haps my voice trembled a little, as I said,
"'Well, what is It, John ?" "Carry, clear,"
but the sentence was not finished-just then
the rest of the p)arty made their app)earance,
and effectually made an end to all confi
dential conversation.
The next day John Grant left Tunbridgo
on business, which required his presence In
D)evonshire for several weeks. I did not
see hIm for sonme time after his return, and
when lhe called at last, there was a some
thing undefinable In his manner ; but yet a
chango, a restrainit, which told me that
those words once on his lips would not be
* spoken.
Months came and went, and again lie left
home ostensibly for business, but it was ru
mored that a beautiful young girl at Ferny
Coombes, whose acquaintance lie had made,
was the real cause of his frequent visits to
Devonshire,
In a little while it was said, and uipon~
good authority, that John Grant was en
- gaged to be married to Mary Keating; and
it was also said that she was very young
and very beautiful. Never till then, till I
knew lie was to marry another, was the se
cret of my own heart revealed to me; but
then I know how I had loved him-how
all hope, all joy, all earthly happiness, was
centered in hlm-oven now I shudder wvhen
I think of that time, when' life seemed
such a heavy burden, and I longed for a
time to lay it down in the grave ; but I
could not; a thorny path opened before
*me, and I was to walk in It.
John Grant returned to Tunbridge soon
after his engagement, and in a few weeks
Mary Keating camne to Elm Woott, on a'
vIsit to his sister. Soon after her arrival I
was invited to a party given (luring her
stay. I dreaded to go, and yet I could not
stay away ; how plain I looked as I stood
before miy dressing glass that night, in a
plain silk, with a few scarlet verbeas had
said once they contrasted well with my
da;rk hair I I was early, and of all the girls
in the room Mary K eating was the most
lovely. I do not wonder lie loved you,
Mary ; you were beautiful, as you came
floating Into the room, in a dress of light
muslin, your golen curls falling over your
sweet chiil(lish face, and your blue eyes
running over withi happiness, and he-but
'Idared not look at him long, for I was not
very strong.
Inthe course of the evening I was In
-trodtced. to her; anid strange as it *as,
from- tat mloment she seenmed to cling to
me.' hie was a child in artlessness, and'
soon dommenced talking of "John," asking
if. I knew hin, etc. "How strihnge he never
tuentioned youl-he told the.of so many of
his friends. Johii-Jdhln" she called as
lhe passed us, "why dIn!t yot tl, me
aboihi Miss Hludsoif-yuil po of so ma
ny othy's.. Orur 'eyes me t' en instant,
and then I said p1tyyi6 his dira14smnen.
1o: bas go mny frIeudb 't int att
liu 'Ika 4co hets% al it nowthlat he 1a
Just then, looking up, I saw in a mirror
opposite, the reflection of our little group
-and-John Grant. When I saw the con
trast between Mary Keating and myself, I
forgave him, if I had not before. Not that
I was so very plain-I do not think I was
-but she was so beautiful, so confiding
and loving, no one could help being
charmed with her; and I could not blame
him, for he had always been a great admi
rer of the beautiful.
Mary Keating came to see me frequently
while she staid at his sister's, sometimes,
not often, accompanied by John. It was
an autumn afternoon, full of clouds and
sunshine, when she came to make her tare
well call. He was with her watching her
every momen with loving pride; and yet it
seemed to me that he regarded her some
what as a beautiful plaything, winding her
yellow curls around his fingers, and calling
her pet names. We went out into the
garden to gather some flowers; and as she
ran about, laughing and talking, picking
flowers, and wreating them in her hair, she
acemed a lovely and bewitching child.
John had gradually lost his constrained
and embarrassed manner when with me,
and, excepting that we never approached
personalties in our conversation, our inter
coturse was getting to be something as it
once was.
Our tastes in many things were similar.
We had read and admired the same au
thors, and upon most of the Inportant sub
jects connected with hutnan life, our
thoughts were alike. We were speaking
of some work we had lately read, and were
quite interested in discussing its merrits,
when Mary suddenly checked her happy
play, and with a grave face, walked silent
ly for a few moments at John's side. At
last she said "You never talk in that way
to tme, John, but its because I don't know
enough." "You know enough for me,
dear, '.he answered ; but she went on, "I
shall be but a 'child wife.' Caroline would
suit you much better." ''Allowing you to
.be judge," I said laughingly, for I saw
John could not answer readily. We said
no more on that subject, but I think .John
asked himself more than once that day, "Is
Mary right ?"
When Mary bade me '-good-bye," that
afternoon, she wound her white arm around
my neck and kissed me, saying in her gen
tle voice, "Write to me often, Caroline,
and teach tue to be worthy of him." And
she went out of the gate, through the hop
garden, leaning on his arm, the warm au
tumn sunlight falling on her golden hair,
making her very beautiful.
Soon after this John Grant left Elmwood
and took a farm on his own account in the
west of the State, adjoining that of old Mr.
Keating. I seldom heard and never men
tioned his name then. Mary wrote
frequently to me during the winter ; her
letters were like herself, graceful and
charming, full of love and confidence. She
spoke much of John--"llow proud she was
of him, what letters he wrote, so much bet
ter than hers, and wasn't it strange lie
should love such a child as she was I" She
went on writing in this way for several
months ; but at length there was a change
in her manner of speaking of John ; it
seemed as though she were not quite as
happy as she had been; she said she began
to be discouraged about ever knowing any
more, and hinted thrt John w:sgetting dis
satisfied with her-generally ending her
letters with some anecdote abot.. her favor
ite cat or canary. It was not long after
this, when she began to speak of her cousin
"Harry Smii. I," who was so agreeable, and
yet -idn't know a bit more than she did.
A month or two after this, I was not much
surprised when she wrote that her engage
ment with John Grant was broken by mu
tual consent-"They were not at all suited
to each other, and no doubt would both be
happier," she said; for he know so much
and she so little. She concluded with a
long account of her new black kitten Top
sy, which seemed then to be the One ob
ject which engrossed till her attention.
Two years passed, and I seldom heard
John Grant's name mentioned, and if I
thought of him-at all, 1 believed I had con
quoted my old attachmient-my life flowed
on quietly and serenely. One year ago
how well I remember the day-I was sit
ting quietly readIig In tihe fading light of
an October sky, wthen hearing a rustling
among the leaves, that lay thick upon the
gravel walk, I looked up and saw John
Grant approaching thme house.
When he last was there, she was wvithi
him, but he was alone now, and my heart's
quick throbbing told me his errandl.
Was I weak and wanting in self-respect
when, after lie had told mec all--told mue
that although he was fascinated wvith a
beautiful and loving child, deep diown In
his heart had always lain a love for me.
All my love camne back to me, and with
more confidence that I could have felt four
years before I laid my hands In his, and
said, "John Grant, I wvill be yours!"
John has sold his farm at Ferny Coombes,
and our new hopie is near Ashford, as the
old house at Elm Wood was t aken diown
to make room for the railway. We neither
of 'us expect to pass over our path of life
without meeting with occasional storms;
but we place our trust in One wvho is both
willing and able to assist those to remove
them who putt their hand cheerfully to the
work|; and with us It will *be both a work
of trust and love.
Sltk Railing In tthe United States.
Parties in North Carolina have fotmd it
sitflelentjy profitably even with present
drawbacks, to raise silk-worms and ship tihe
cocoons to France. One gentleman in Ra
leigh, Mrs E. Fasnach, has shIpped two
.bales to Marseilles, each containing Over 100)
lbs. of choked cocoons. They have been
sold at Marseilles for as high as 82 francs
(or 'over $0) per kilogranmme (not quite 2
1-2 lbs), and the froight from Raleigh to
Marseilles did not exceed $8 per owt. 'Tihe
cocoorts wore raised by the children of the
sfamily ; and aside from the silk produet,
Mr. Fasnach also produced a nuamber of
eggs for which there is now a ready mar
ket abroad at $8.50 to $4 per ounce of. 20
grammes,. Several other persono in diffe
rent parts of the.country have also reared
sufflelent cocoons to warrant Now York
b)rokers in'oRfering from $1.50 to $2 per lb.
for thie same. When parties find it proff
table to raise silk under these adverse cir
cumstances, there can be no quetion as to
the growth of the industry whenever a
home market is firished for the raw ma
terIal, and that *llen. once it shall have
been demonstrated that there can be offered
and paid for cocoons some sttoed sum that
wil yet allow A fair p to1onoreIv
indast 11 be edtb1sed~p
liinsta wil no a
Atal nyetmet therIn."
Butchering Monntain Trout. I
Trout go up the Trukee river in Califor
nia in schools of thousands towards their
spawning beds. If unimpeded in their
course they would separate into nunber
less crystaline trout brooks and deposite
their spawn far up the stream, out of reach
of sawdust or fishermen. But just at the
foot of the Sierra Nevada, In the State of
Nevada, close to the California line, Is the
Verdi dam. This dam has been constructed
to supply a fine sawmill with Water power,
and great precaution was taken to arrange
a suitable fishway at one end. The water
is made to flow over a sort of apron, or
plank floor, which has such a gradual In
cline that 'any fish can ascend. This fish
way is further improved by means of the l
rocks and earth of the river bank. There
is a large pool or eddy just at the foot and a
lower side of the apron, where the fish col- s
lect in great numbers to rest preparatory to
making the final leap, or struggle, which c
carries them over tne dam. The fishermen,
however, fastened two or three heavy n
planks just along the upper edge of the 1
apron, and so the trout find an impassable a
wall at the place where they should enter t
the reservoir above the dam. ThIus the fish 11
are imprisoned. Such restless, impatient,
struggling prisoners as are these mountain 0
trout cannot be found elsewhere. They at
tempt to leap over the main dam, only to
be hurled back by the falling water. They
spring fully live feet in the air, and strike
Wie main apron of the dam with territic and
frequently fatal force. They bruise their r
bodies and heads until oftentimes they die.
They learn nothing from experience, but
continue to .jllup against the dlamrlh, until, r
worn out and nerveless, they drift, com
p1 ely exhausted, into the eddies formed
by 1 he piers of the dam. One can watch '
for hours these poor, desparate things in
their brave struggles to get over the dam,
without having ai moment elapse in which el
some trout is not leaping through the air it
and against the dam. Generally from one
to a dozen fish are visible at the same time. .
It is a grand but at pitiful sight to watch to
the great speckled beauties in their vain It
endeavors to get over the dam. But the
pitiful merges into the h'rrible when one
sees the merciless grabhooks let down into
the struggling, quivering, exhausted masses 8
of trout gathered in the eddies below the cl
piers. By means of the short, unyielding
rod, a succesion of quick upward jerks Is c
given to the four hungry points of the grab- t
hook. The water is full of foam from the t"
cascade, and circles In blinding whirl around it
the pool. The fish are crazed and blinded i
by their fruitless, frantic leaps, and readily I
drift against the sharp, needle-like points of t
the barbed hooks. Once Inpaled, the
struggle begins. The hook iay have a
entered underneath the head. or the body, k
or it may have pierced the side or the fins,
or the tail. At the first moment of its N
fright the startled fish darts away with a a
fury of strength that is marvelous. A large s
fish is almost ungovernable diring the first "
frenzy of its death struggle. The fisher- a
man's only plan Is to let the trout weary
itself with its maddened plunges, and leaps, v
and struggles, and then by a dextrous c
twitch lands it on the pier. More than
half the time the fish makes some terrible t
bound and tears himself from the hook, on- 0
ly to float with the current, torn, mangled, a
and dying. 0
Calling a Moose. 11
It was a most lovely evening. It wanted d
but about half an hour to sundown, and all tl
was perfectly still. There was not the
slightest sound of anything moving in the
forest except that of the unfrequent flight
of a moose bird close by. And so I sat
watching that most glorious transformation
scene--the change of day into night; saw g
the great sun sink slowly down behind the r
pine trees; saw the few clouds that hovered c
motionless above me blaze into the color of IM
brighlt burnishled gold ; saw tile whole at- si
mosphere become glorious with a soft yel- V
low light, gradually dying out as tile nighIt 3'
crept on, till only in tile western sky thlere "
lingered a faint glow fadinlg into a pale,
cold apple-green, against which the pines s<
stood out as black as midnight and as ih
sharply defined as thloughl cut out of steel.
As tile darkness deepened a young crescent Ii
moon shone out pale and clear, with a glit
tering star a little below tile lower horn,
and above her another star of lesser magni
tude. It looked as thlough a supernatural
Jewel-a hleavenlly pendant, two great dia
mond solitaires and a diamond crescent
were hanging in the western -sky. After a
while thle moon, too, sank behind tIle trees, e
and darkness fell upon the earthl. I know a
of nlothling more enchianting thlan a perfect
ly calmn and silent autumnnal sunset in tIle e0
woods unless it be the sunrise, wihich to my gl
mind Is more lovely still. Sunset is beautl- o0
ful, but sad ; sunrise is equally beautiful, C
anId full of life, halppiness iad hIope. I I
love to watchl tile stars begin to fade, to see ti
tile first faint whlite light clear up tihe dark- Iti
ness of tile eastern sky, and gradually ti
deepen into tile -gloriouls coloring thlat hecr
aids the app)roachling sun. I love to se I'
nature awake shutidering, as 511e always ci
does, anid arouse herself into active, busy y
life, to note the Insects, birds and beasts
shIake off slumber and set about thleir daily
tasks. Still the sunset is Inexpressibly
lovely, and I do not envy the condition and
frame of mind of a man11 -who cannot be as
necarly hlappy as mail can be, whlen hIe Is g
lyiing comfortably on a luxulrious and soft fc
couch1, gazIng in perfect peace on tIle glor- Iei
ious scene around Ilim, rejoicing all hIs bi
senlses, and saturatIng hhinself with the It
wvonderful beauties of a Northern sunset. d
So 1 sat quietly below, wilie thle Indian g
calk d front the tree-top. Not a sound an- r<
swered to tle three or four long-drawn-out bi
notes with which he hlopedi to lure the buill; cl
after a long Interval lie called agaIn, but the ii
same perfect, utter' silence reigned in tile q
woods a silence broken only by tile melan- el
chloly hooting of ar. owl, or the imagmnary si
noIses that filled my head. It Is extraor- ti
dinary how small nolies"beo magnified a
when thle car is kept at a great tension for y
any length of time, and ho0w tIle head be- n
comes filed with all kinds of noctiti~ous Id
sounds; and it is very remnarkable also how -hi
utterly imrpossible it is to distinguisht be-- a
tween a loud noise uttered at a distance and tl
a 'scarcely audible sound close by After c
listening very Intently amidst, the profound a
silence of a quiet.night:in the forest for an 0
hour or so the hlead becomes so surchargd It
with blooj,'oving, I presume, to all thie si
faeulties being concentrated on a single si
sense, thatone seenis t,o hear distaudt voipes; d
the ringing of bell and all kind.of strange o
and'irupossile'noies A matcheeonids do-t
nervously alive t9te slightest.disitb#niee I
of the al ~ ~ M1pooilne of a;stil 9t
be.klib of a liite gwl or th4 dl of4
oaf, even at a great distance-will makc
iii alost jump out of his skin. IIe it
Iso apt to make the most ludicrous imis
ikes. Toward morning, about daybreal,
have frequently mistaken the first faint
uzz of soie minute fly, withim a foot o0
o of my car, for the call of a moose two
r three imiles off.
About ton o'clock the Indian gave it up
i despair and came down the tree ; we
olled ourselves up In our rugs, pulled the
mods of our blanket coats over our heads,
nd went to sleep. I awoke literally shak
iig with cold. It was still the dead of
ight ; and the stars were shining with in
onse brilliancy, to my great disappoit=
nent, for I was in hopes of seeing the first
treaks of dawn. It was freezing very
ard, far too hard for me to think of going
sleep agaiti. So I roused the Indian and
tggested that he should try another call or
wo. Accordingly we stole down to the
Ige of the little point of wood in which
e had ensconced ourselves, and in a few
iinutes the forest was re-echoing the
laintive notes of the mtoose. Not an an
wer, not a sound-utter silence, as if all
10 world were dead, broken suddenly and
orribly b a yell that made the blood cur
le in one a v ii1s. It was t.he long, (Iuav
ring, hunan, but unearthly scream of a
on on the dibtant lake. After what seemed
ma1e many hours, but what was in reality
it a short time, the first indications of
awn revealdd themselves in the rising of
i morning Star, and the slightest -possible
iling in the 'castern sky. The cold grew
Imost unbedrable. That curious shiver
lt runs tlhrduglt nature-the first icy cuI
nat of air that precedes the day-chilled
a to the bon.es. - I rolled myself up in my
lanket anid lighted a pipe, trying to retain
hat little caloric remained in my body,
'hile the Indian again ascended the tree.
y the Gino had called twice it was gray
awn. Bir were beginning to move
bout, and bU y squirrels to look out for
eir breakfds of pine. buds. I sat listen
1g intentlyj apd watching the blank emo
onless face bf the Indin as he gazed
round him, when suddenly I saw his coun
,nance blaze up with vivid excitement..
[is eyes soen.d to start from his head, his
uscles twltdlied, his face glowed, he
emned trans rmed in a moment into mu
ifferent bein , At the same time he began
'ith the utmot celerity, but with extreme
tution to despond to the ground. iIe mo
omed to me .not to make any noise, and
hispered thiat aI moose was coining across
io barren and must be close by. Grasp
ig my rifle, we crawled carefully through
to grass, crisp and noisy with frost, down
) the edge of our island of woods, and
ere, after peering cautiously around some
:unted juniper bushes, I saw standing,
bout sixty yards off, ma bull moose. IIe
oked gigantic In the thin morning mist
'hich was beginning to drift up from the
nrface of the barren. Great volumes of
,eam issued from his nostrils, and his
rhole aspect, looming in the fog, was vast
mi almost tetrifte. Ile stood there per
,ctly motionless, staring at the spot from
'lih lie had heard the cry of the supposed
)w, irresolute whether to come on or not.
lie Indian was anxious to bring him a lit
e closer, but I did not wish to run the risk
f scaring him, and so, taking aim as fairly
I could, considering I was slinking all
ver with cold, I fired and struck him be
ud the shoulder. ie jumped forward on
is knees, Jumped up, rushed forward for
>out two hundred yards, and then fell
cad at the edge of the heavy timber on
ie far side of the barren.
Taking the Edgo Off.
Recently a sort of slouchy-lookming hun
ry-eyed, cadaverous fellow stepped into a
mstaurant and said he wanted a cup of
ffee and a piece of bread and butter. The
alter told him that the place sold nothing
lort of a comp)lete dinner, and the p)rice
as fifty cents. Bald the stranger, "Well,
au see, I ain't real hiuiigry, and I only
'ant a little coffee and a bit of bread."
Walter-"It makes no difference; we
11l a whuoladinner for fifty cents, and noth
c lse."
Stranger-"You give a 11ul1 (1inne1r for
fty cents?"
Waiter.-"Yes, a whole dinner; roasit
meat, potatoes, 'succotash, bread, buitter;
le, pudding, coffee and tea."
Stranger-"Well, I s'pose you give a
an all lie wants to cat?"
Walter---"Oh, yes; we 1111 you up for 50O
~nts, and give you a solid, good, p)lainI
mel."
Stranger-"Well,' I've half a mind to
it with ye. Th'le fact Is the ole' womin
vO mec a half a loaf of bread and( a piecec
corn beef for a bite, and I cat It up at
arp)enter's just now with a glass of beer.
thought I'd like a cup of coffee andl a lit
e bread anud butter to kind o'er wash the
ing downa but ye say ye can't ghin'e
Waiter.-"No sir. We'll give you, as
ye said, a solid, square mieal for fifty
nts. You can eat as little or much as
nu please.
Ried spider on. Frit-Trees.
Among the Insect enemies of the fruit
ower it is singular that no one has re
irred much to the spider. It Is a small
iemy to be sure, but one by no means to
- euro, but one by no means to be despised.
makes up by its Immense nuinber for its
minuitive appearance. They appear lar
.r thian those we find in greenhouses on
)ses, fuelishas, and other tender plants;
ut whether or not they are a different spe
aos fromi these, are natives to the soil, or are
itroductions from Some other parts, are
tiestions which may perhaps interest the
-tomologlst, but will hardly aid In the de
motion of the foe. We suppose on large
es the labor wouk4 be t,oo great to attemipL
sy means foi their eradidation, but for
oung trees which are easily reached, it
might be well worth while to keep thuem
>wn. The popular reccIptIn garden books
to mix flour of suulphur in greasy water
a then syringe with it; of course keeping
le mouth of the syringo niear thei surface
the water iwhile drawing- up tife liquid,
the oily and sulpihtfywater . flo'mts only
top,:and-is drawn-inte,the syringe only
-that way. ThIS reasy liquid causes the
iphuor to adhere tthd leaves, and it is
id the red spider abandohie those leatves in
isguist, oThe hot difytndosphere ofs om
.untry ds peculiarly favorable to theox is.
1100 of the red spidei' Adwhen'wo know
ggreat 4 postit ei-r r
ide g- itsep ot
wanhington lit Valley Forge.
In the latter part of the sununer of 179(1,
when his second termi as President of the
United States had nearly expired, and he
was about to retire to private life, Wasling
ton concluded to see Valley Forge once
more, the scene of so many toils and strug
gles. The particuhrs respecting this visit
an old farmer living near there at the time
related to his son, who made a record of
them. It was in the afternoon, he said, as
he was engaged ploughing on his farm in
the vicinity of the encampament grounds
that lie observed an elderly ni(u of digni
lied appearance on horseback, dressed in a
plain suit of blatck, accompanied by a
coloret servant, ride to . place in the road
nearly opposite, when lie alighted from his
horse and came into the field and cordially
took his hand. lie told hin he had called
to make sonme inquiries concerning the own
ers and occupants of the dilreren'. places
abc.ut there, and also in regard to the coun
try ; the system of farming practiced in
that part of the country ; the kinds of grain
and vegetables raised ; the time of sowing
and planting ; the best method of tilling the
ground, and numerous other questions re
lating to agriculture. lie also made in
quiries after certain families in the neigh
borhood. As answers were given lie noted
them down in a book, the farmer informing
him that he could not give as correct answers
as lie wished, for he had not been brought
up to farming, and besides. had only moved
into the vicinity since the war, ' nought he
had been in the army when it wias encamp
ed there. This gave a new turn to the con
versation. The stranger informed him that
he had been in the army and at, the camp,
and as he expected to leave the city in a
few months, with the prospect of never re
turning, he had taken this journey to visit
the place which had been the scene of so
much sufTering and distress, and see how
far the inhabitants had recovered from its
effects. On being informed that his name
was George Washington he told hiin that
his appearance was so changed that lie did
not recognize him, or else he would have j
paid more respect to his late commander
and now the chief magistaate of the nation.
He replied that to see the people happy,
and the (tesolate fields recovering from the
disasters they had expen,le. (, and to meet
with any of his old companions now peace
ably engaged In the most useful of all em
ployments afforded him more satisfaction
than all the homage that could he paid to
his person or station. He then said that
pressing engagements rendered it necessary
for him to be in the city that night, and
taking him by the hand bade him an affee
tionate farewell, and this was Washington's
last visit to Valley Forge.
lowa 1ltatiules nakos.
"I see," said Judge Smith Acker, as he
mopped his bald head with a red and black
silk handkerchief, "that sone papers de
vote a good deal of space to snake stories.
It's a good plan, for people like to read
about snakes. There is a curious faseina
tion about the creatures, whether in the 1
body or in print.. Now, I have had sonie
experience with snakes, principally rattle
snakes, and it was not in Pike county, Pa.,
either. Iowa used to be no had place for I
snakes, and I'll tell you a little experience
I had one summer and fall, a good many
years ago, in lowva. I went out to Milleray,
late in August, to shoot prairie chickens.
Tenl or twelve miles from I)ubu iue is a
regular young Ireland. The towns are
called Garryowen, and Terry, and Ilally- 1
clough, and Milleray. The - people are,
most of them, Irish, and in Milleray there
is a big monastery, where an Irish order of i
the monks of La Trappe have a colony. t
They own thousands of acres of land, and
are receiving as inmates or 'B3rot"hers,' as I
they call them, a great many of the young
men around there. Well, to get back to f
my snakes. I went out to shoot chickens
and put up at the Twelve-mile house. It
was then a well-known inn, right on the
roadl to Pike's Peak, and kept In goodl style
by Loim Litton, a mighty good fellow. I
remember lie had a couple of pretty (laugh
ters and a birighit son, and I hear one of the
girls has become a nun and the boy is a
'Brother.' Well-snakes?i Oh, yes. It
wvas my first scasoni there, and Litton said
to me, 'Judge, you must look ,2ut for snakes
on the prarle. Wear boots always, keel)
your ilask filled with whisky ; and, look
here :Sec this weed,' and lie plointed to a
small plant about, teii Inches high, of a pale
greeni color, andI evidently a species of cac
tus, for the leaves wvere smooth, with little
thorns on the edges. 'That is the snake
weedl, and If a rattler (does get his tooth in
to you, just fill up w'ith whlisky, chiewv some
of that. wveed, swallowv the juice, and put
the pulp on the bite. Thamt'll fix you.'
''Well, sir, I did find snakes, rat,tlesnakes,
lots of 'em. My p)ointer usually let me
know where they were, and1( somethnes
they'd let inc know by their shrill rattle.
I'd1 seen snakes In Steuben county, Ohio,
spottedl fellowsa, but these were unlike any
I'd seen, being almost perfectly black, not
very large, but very active. I killed seven
tei snakes and three chickens the first (lay
I was out-not that the chickens wveren't
thick, but t,he snakes were thicker and at,
tractedl more attentIon.
"The next (lay, while working over a
wvheat stubble where a gang of men were
shocking wheat that had just been bound, I
heard a yell. One of the Irishmen had beeni
bitten by a rattler that waus undler a sheaf
of wheat, and had fastened in his arm as lie
picked It up. TJhie poor fellow was scared
to dleathi 'most. I out with my flask (it
hold a plump pint), and lie put it to his hips,
and when lie took It down) it was empty.
Then we started hinm on a run for the hol.
I looked for snake weed, but not a blade
couldl I find. I believe that's usually the
way-you can't find It when yott want it.
We got thie man, whose name was Martin
something or other, to the house, and there
filled him nup with more. whisky.. At first
it didn't senm to affect him, and the arm
kept swelling and got black. Bunt, by'mby
Martin began to get happy ; then he got1
hilarious; then fighting drunk, and final
hy he fell off lisa chair, (lead drunk, lie
was saved. Thie next day lie was out with
his arm in a sling, and I found him over In
that same wheat stubble slowly walking
around, and gazing intently at the ground.
'What'are'you looking orMart?l' I ask .;
IHslooked up, winked slyl and drawr4
dut : 'i"ti, ser, Oi'm li ng for the bit
of aybhhfike.' 'I4ook the hInt, and gavd
hhtn a goid swig of whisky, wIthotit puttng
hin to the tronble of gett?ig bitten by a '
rattlesnake in ol'der to sec- It.
"Theo lhddron atend thdro m.ito kIl
tii nddand piouli ofthohe.
big d i d 1d rutI1 in th
against the flesh, the rattles would vibru
and sound a remarkably natural manic
In the district school on the prairie the
was a young woman just from the east wl
was dreadfully afraid of snakes, and it w
a cheerful habit of the young ones, wh
they wanted a holiday, to get out their ri
ties behind their desks and set them wh
ring. Why, they used to scare the life o
of that poor girl, who would gather up i
skirts and scoot for home at the first raj
The little devils used to vary their perfor
ance and render it more realistic by leavii
(leal snakes around the school house, ni
giving it out that there was a nest uider t]
Iloor.
"There- was a little Irishman, nama
Toin Clancey, who worked for Litton, at
who had a reputation a aa snake catche
ills plan was to pin the snake's head to ti
roui with a forked stick, then to slip
loop over the head, fasten it to his stic
md thus drag his captive, squirming, homi
I wanted a live specien of the timber ru
er, which is usually much larger than li
prairie cousin, and, instead1 of being blac
s orange and black, and a decided
venomlol, .looking beast. One day 'I'onmn
imcceeded in capturing a big yellow f(
low, with fifteen rattles, and was dra
ing him ihome in high glee at the prsspe
)f the $5 I had offered for the reptile, wl
I fellow driving a breaking teami as I
passed, struck the snake across tile bat
with his ten-foot ox-whip. You know
ight blow will kill a rattler, and this blo
cilled 'Tomny's captive. Well, you'd he
er believe that Irishman was mad. Whir
ng around, ho lifted his stick, and, usli
he big snake for a lash, walloped the tean
iter lustily. At first the fellow returne
he compliment with his ox-goad, but who
te felt that. clammy snake flap around h
ace and neck once or twice his nerve wet
)ack on him, and he turned and ran, pu
ucd by the little Irishman, who whippe
ihn with the rattler as long as his breat
ield out. Tommy afterward caught n
mother big snake, but not so big as tl
irst, and I had had the pleasure of brinl
ng him east and presenting him to Iw
rot her-in-law, who has a weakness for thi
orl of pot."
"1)end Uroen."
The Irish peasamtry are very careful I
nake due preparations for death, pa rti
alarly to provide theh last garments i
"dealth dress." This care weighs vei
nuch upon the invalid, who frequently o:
lers those in attendiance to take the shrou
)ut of the box where it has lain in realine.
and air it properly. The writer has mot
.han once heard this command given whil
risiting the sick in County Donegal. Tli
lie "dead dress" is the cause of solicitu(d
o the people of Queen's county even in a
>ther state of being, the following anecdol
vill show: Two old women lived at Cast]
Pook, a rambling old place, once magnit
eut, and the scene of wild revelry so lot:
is its owners hriad anything to squande
But the spendt.hrift landlords were deii
mid gone, and of the Dennis family onl
wo members, an aunt and an niece r
namined, they were called the ''ladies'; b
heir poor neighbors, and were greatl
ooked up to on account of their anciei
inme; but they had not had any better e(
ication than that which a village sch:o
naster could give fifty years ago. The o
Icr Miss )enis hrd a smaual1 alnnuity, an
t was no wonder that Miss Ilonor was a
nost crushed by grief and anxiety when sli
eccame very ill, and was given up by t1
loctor.
"Come here, Honor," whispered the d
ng woman, from her pillow. "There
en pounds in the box ; you'll have tha
:n' my clothes an' the furniture, an' you'
ie sure to wake me decent, and put in
Ine linen nightgown wid the frills on m
iring it out, to let me see if it's 'll right."
Miss Honor promised to obey, but misci
mness overcame her, and1( she grud(gedl th
orpse so flue a dress. She haippened
amve some black calico coveredI withl whit
plots, which she had bioughit at a great bii
~ain from a country peddler, and shec miad
lie shroud of it, inteiiding to turn thm
riuled nightgowvn into monecy at some fu:
ure time. Th'ie villagers from 010opo0
vhio caime to the wvake wondered at Mia
)cinnis' "dlead1 dress,'' but nothing was sal
gainst, it.
The funeral took laco; and1 now, bega
dreadful visitaltion for Miss HIonor. A
egularly as darkness fell, Miss Dennis ap~
mearedl in her black and white shroud r
icr neice's firesidle. She pointed to he
Iress, and1( never spoke a wvord,. Miss 1c
:or could1 not b)ear It. On the third nigli
lie comai was t,akeni up and opeiied, ani
lie frillcd nightgown putls upon its tonal'
nistead of the black and white shiroudl. Th~l
hlost, was now appleasedl ; she did( not, agal
pp)ear.
4Fuod at Harato,g,.
At Meyer's and Moon's on the lake, the
re famous for game dinniers. A regula
asmo dinner for one, withouit wvine, cost
~5, and with wine it, often runs up to $1
nd $15, and even $20. Trho $5 gamei (dha
ecr consists of five courses. Soup, blac
ass and stewed potatoes,chlcken, partridg
nd fried potatoes, woodecock andl sala<l
nud end(ing wvith coffee. A plain gaim
linner of black bass and stowed potatoci
nd( woodchuck and fried potatoes, costs
vithout wino, $4. The $25 dinners thu
'lerre Lorillard, Belmont and Travers
ako aro produced biy an indiscriminat
laughter of Johiannlsberger, chamupagne
Id Burgundy and dollar cigars. Tile Sara
oga black bass are caught early in th
norning in deep water. They weigh fror
poundl to a pound and a half. Thiey ar
'cry juicy and .delicious. No one eve
ouchies brook trout in Saratoga after hav
ng been once spoiled by eating black bass
4r. Belmont says thqp~aratoga black bas
mre the beat fish fri thio world. Wo have
ilso, what is called the Saratoga white bail
which really tastes better than the wit
pait caught at Manhattan B3each. Saratog
vhiite bait are produced thus: Sunfish a
noh and a half and two inches long ar
aught In sytallow water. Thiey are place
a qalt water which causes theim to dIsgorg
heir entrails. The~n they are fried *1hol
n. butteir. Saratoga white bail are an 11
rovemnent on the genuine article,
The*,Ihtof Wopds.
to A High-Priced Mistako.
r. Two miners sat down In a wilderness of
re southern Utah, a few months since, to
10 munch their bread and then pursue their
118 wanderings and their search for weath.
3n They were "prospectors" who, having left
t- the beaten track of pleasure-seekers, wan
r- dered off, to the amusement of their fel
nt lows, Into the comparatively level country,
or where months of searching had revvaled
,. nothing.
- " We had better get back into the moun
g tan country, Jim," said lis " pard."
u( As he spoke his tool struck something a
Ie few inches under the sand, and the pros
pector found a fracture on the rocks and
d picked up a small yellow piece of stone.
id " What's that ? " said Tom, as he saw
r. with what fevorish earnestness his " pard "
te examined the piece.
Ia " Egad I I think It's born silver I "
'I'hey were out of provisions and clothes;
- they had not means with which to pay the
t fee for securing their "find." After open
1s iug up their prize sufficiently to show that
a vein of ore existed, they offered it to Mr.
Y Ben Morgan, of Pittsburg,who Is operating
Y smelting works a few miles below Salt
1- Lake City, for $18,000. Mr. Morgan sought
4- the advice of the Superintendent of the
et Ontario Mine. Together they carefully ex
Il anined the new ' inti," and, unfortunately
1e for the genial Ben, they decided it was not
k worth risking the money on. The miners
a continued to open their vein, but soon again
v were stranded, when one of then wrote to
t- two Irish friends, who had already lost
I- money on supposed " finds," and besought
g then to try their luck once more. After
- much importunity they invested enough
d money to give the miners a good start, when
n1 the development of the mine proceeded
is rapidly. Four shafts were sunk and a
t number of intermediate galleries run which
connected the shafts. The work was pushed
d solely with a view to show the magnitude
h1 of the deposit. It was the marvel of the
1e whole country. Conservative old engineers
1e measured the ore beds actually in sight,
taking nothling for granted, and made n
y morons analyses in all parts of the mine to
it determine its richness, and thc most cau
tious calculated the silver in sight as worth
$27,000,000. Jay Cooke, hearing of this
prize, secured an option of one-half inter
est for $2,00,000 for a short time, and
0 hastenig eastward lie induced a number of
EnglishmenI in New York to invest and they
)' took it at this price, the four original own
y era declining to sell the remaining half at
any price. 'i is now the famous "Iorn
d Silver Mine " or "New Bonanza," around
1 which a town has in a few months clustered
e called '' Frisco," and to which one mine
e the Utah Southern railroad will this su
muer be extended nearly three hundred
e milles.
e Inagination on the Weather.
A citizen doing business on Griswold
street, Detroit, has given this weather
question a great deal of thought, and re
cently he began a series of experinen a to
ascertain whether Inagination hasn't as
much to do with a hot day as a therno
meter. At 9 o'clock in the morning he en
Y tered his -ollce, built a brisk tire in the
stove, closed the door, and sat down to his
newspaper, having his chair close to the
stove. In a few minutes one of his eus
tomers opened the door, and before he
could express his surprise the olicial called
out:
"Come in I What change in the weather
e since last nightl I hated to build a flre,
? but it was positively like November in here.
Come over by the stove."
''lis-has the weather changed?" heal
a tatingly Inquired the caller.
"Changed I Why there's a difference of
81 degrees since 10 o'clock last night. Ileiar
Y what the weather report says: Northerly
winds, great change In temperature, with
Indications of a severe frost at night! I
wish I had brought down my spring over
e coait "
0 "Well, I felt the change, but I didnl't
e realise the full power of It," said tile otner
as lie edged over to tile stove and rubbed
(111 hi hands.
0 "You should watch thlese things and
- dress accordingly. I wouldn't dare come
i out In that thin coat. First you know
a youl'll have a chili."
d "I-I know I'm rather careless, but I
must look out for myself In the future.
ii This fire fools rather good."
5 "Yes, It does; you'd better get thor
- oughly warmied up before you go out in the
t raw air."
r The~ caller remained there at least 10 miln
-utes, all the time standing besido the hot
t stove and yet when the thlermfometer
I marked 100 degrees 110 madbe no complaints
t and went out saying that he would goihomo
0 and( get on a thicker coat.
They All Lifted.
Several brethren were sitting in a
South street store, and somehow they got
to talking about lifting~ weihts.
"1 lifted a barrel once," said1 a icani muan
ini tihe cornier, "that weighled over 200
s pounds,18
None of the rest seemned to care a lilt
- about what lie had I'":ed.
"And I," said a toad, hanuky man sitting
on a bag of corn, "I lifted a woman onlce
whlo weighled over 500 pounds. She was
going to faint, but I calughlt her."
IThle proprietor of thle store opened his
eys a litl and looked at the man, but no
further Interest was displAyed.
"Whlen I was down at Sandy," said a
small, fat man, "'l carried off aton of ore
Several of tile melOl shifted thecir posItions
at tis big~ one, and th6'proprietor looked
caultioufly otit of the window to see if any
5bodyvwas listening..
r . helast mnan, -who was sittlng with lia
feet dangling down In a ,box of oggsau
awful snmall man-who looked as If one
'waft of wind would Alhsh him, at last
1 suppoe your6mein ~wfen'
SWalker House ws bu1l1 ng' l, o
'fmorning thle .o equw,e me ad,
'Jhme, th4 is edthe~ ~f tl atter
Iwith the back i if ~ oe ~get
Sunder:and 5 ht ;e'
Sthe two men,it~ h O 8 1~
e lo..n te Jan