The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, September 30, 1879, Image 1
4)
;:XA} ,WEEI(IY EDITION! W W1NNSBOR{O, S. C., SEPTE~MBE?R ,17.VL 1.N.14
ONLY A WORD.
Only a word I a little winged word
Blown through the busy town,
Lighter than thistle down,
Lighter than dust by roving boo or bird
Brushed from the blossoming lily's golden
crown;
Borne idly hore and there.
Oft as the summer air
About mon's doora the sunny stillness stirrod.
Only a word I
But sharp, oh sharper than a two-edged sword I
f . ..e To pierco and sting and scar
The livart whose peace a breath of blawne couldi
mar.
Only a word, a little word that fell
Unheoded as the dow
''hat from the darkling blue
Of summor midnight softly steals, to toll
Its tale of singing brook and star-lit doll'
In yonder noisome streot,
e Where, pale with dust and heat,
The lirtle window flowor in workman's coil
Its drooping boll
Uplifts to greet the kiss it knows so well
A word-a drop of dow I
B3ut oh, its touch could life's last hope renow. I
The Captain's Daughter.
''No," said I, "you shan't have hii."
'Oh, pa I" said she, "but I love him so
-I love him so dearly."
"I don't care," said I, "A common
"~. sailor like him I" and then she bellowed
and wiped her eyes, as might have been ex
peeted of a girl.
s_; vy My girl was a beauty, and she was the
only one I halad-the only one I ever had
and I owned a boat, and I was known
everywhere as Captain Parker, of the Saucy
Jane, and all I had Jennie would have
some (lay ; and was it likely I'd give her to
Jack Blaze, as he was before the mast ?
No I
Well, I set my foot down, and supposed
the girl would obey. But, lo and behold I
what should I see one day when I came
home fron the river but i couple of people
swinging on my gate i
It was Jack Blaze and Jennie, and his
arm was around her waist.
1 bolted in between 'emi like a shell, and I
I ordered Jennie to her room, and 1 ordered t
Jac. away, and I told hin what would
h a' if I saw him swinging on my gate c
age
"1 you weren't her father, sir,'' said
Jack, "I'd not hear such words from you;t
but, as it 1s, and you're an old mian-"
With that 1 fired a1 flower pot at him and
called him a confounded mutineer, and lie
sheered off.
"Jennie," says I've done well by you
your old father has done well by you, and a
what have you done by himi ? I've taught 11
you to play the planner, or had you taught o
which is the sane ting. and you've got V
one. You dress in silks, and I keep a ser- l;
vant for you, and I've got you down in my
will for all I shall leave, and how (10 you a
use me I While I'm away following the 4
water you mtutiny. Now, l'n sorry to t:
punish you. I daren't leave you alone, and
I'll lock up the house and take you along h
'i inc on my trips. The cabin is comi
,i. table and you'll not suffer, and if you ii
don't like it you shall 1ump It. Keeping ii
company with a fellow like that I Ugh I a
"Don't be cross, papa," said Jennie. I
"I'd like to go, I'm sure. As for Jack, a
he's the best fellow I know, and I'll keep ii
company with no one else ; but if you d
don't like it yet we'll wait."
"Wait I" says I. "1Wait I Why, if I
wanted you to marry, Jennie, there's the
captain of 3a steamer told ic last week I'd
the prettiest daughter of any mian he knew,
and that he was tired of single life. The v
captain of a steamer, Jennie, think of that !"
"I -lon't believe lie's as nice as Jack," V
said Jenni ; "'and. 1 love Jack." i
Then I shook her. I'm sorry to say I I
shook her, and the next (lay 1 11ad( her r
trunk sent, dlownl to the boat and1 took her
under lmy arm to the same p)lace.
The cablin was good enough for a queen, I
and( the little stateroom a p)ictutre, and1( she
seemled to like it. Il
You'd have thought I was giving her a.
treat inistead of punishing her.
She nseed to sit, out on (leek all [lhe fine l
days, with knitting and sewing, or a book, ~
ano she sang to iie eveniings.
But she (din't give up, not even when 31
she saw thie captain--six feet thrceo; hanlid
some1 as8 a pictuire. t
No, she stuck to Jack, and I stuck out
against him as st,iff as she, and so wve sailed ~
111 iand (dwn the river, and1( Sumnmeor wvent
andc Autumnn caine, and Winter wias ai-coam
ing but my gIrl was obstinate' as over.
It was my last trip.
All Winter, after [lie river was frozen,
the Saucy Jane lay at the (lock.
"If youi were a good, obedient girl,"'said
1, 1 shouldn't have looked you up1 ; b)ut as
9 it is I must.
So I kissed hler-1 was glald to remiember
afterward that I kissed her-and I vict
nailed the cabIn, anld locked [lie door and1(1
put [lhe key in liy pocket, and1( off I wvent, I
I had1( to go a distance out of town, and
there, when I settled my busIinecss, I dined,
and1( it was oveninlg b)efore I got bac&k to [lie
Saucy Jane, or, rather, to Popiartowvn,
where she lay.
I thought to miyself, as I camne dlown, I
[liat I had never seen the place so busy, but1 1
as I neared the dock, I saw that something
131a( happened.
Thler'e was a crowd there, and people
wvere talking and shiaking their heads, and3(
somehow I couldn't see the( smoke-stack of
tile Haucey Jane peer thir >ugh the shadows
as I might, nor [lie red and greeni lights at
her' head, nor any sign of her, and a great
fear crept Into miy heiart, and I began to
shake and shiver.
"'It's only the fog,'' saId I; but there was
no fog.
"It's dark," said I, but the darkel' it was
thme brighter the lights would have shone
Out.
Thelin all trembilng and slinking like an
old man-like my 01hl grandfather, who had1(
tile palsy, used( to do, I remember thinking
--I caught hold of at man11 who was passling
ing and said:
"Look here, man, what's the m,atter?i
What's the crowd about?9 What's hap
pened?9"
"It's tihe little steamboat down there,"
said [lie men ; "[lie ~auey Jane. She's
-been run inito and sta~k bar 'oal;boat. She
went doWn In thirty minten.e.WTho cap
taIn was away they siiy, and [the meon went
pn.a sproe,.Only the sabin boy was there;
tlaoy pk*d'hlm up; 'Tou-Can jptt see her
siio(ko sik abo~ o heete The coal
boa was ,hntrt a ll, to s1 jng bift
1n kOo a" s te
Then I didn't know what happened, but
[ found myself in the doctor's ship pretty
ioon and a crowd about me, and heard
omne one saying softly :
"Iis daughter was aboard. She went t
Iown with the boat-" t
"I locked her in" said I. "Wretched
>ld bruto that. I am I I locked her in that
:abin ; I murdered her-I, her father l The l
loor was locked and the windows small,
Lad I ltxcke( her in to drown like a rat !" i
Tnent I went oif again, and it was all a
iorrible dream, until I awoke to find it was
light, and I was alone in bed, and I saw a -
nan sitting beside inc.
"WYho is this ?" I asked, not recognizing
liim.
"It's Jack Blaze, Captain. Do you find
'ourself better?"
'')o you think I want to be better," I
aid. "1 want to (lie and go to Jennie, I
nurdered her." I
"No, no ('aptain," said Jack softly to
ne. "You locked her up from her true
ove as loved her, but you didn't know s
r'hat was coming."
"Oh, if I could (lie this minute," said I.
'.Jack, if you have a pistol put it to my
lend! My little girl."
"Well, she is safe from marrying me,
'aptain,'' said .Jack. "I suppose that's a
olinfort to youi."
"Oh, .Jack I" said I. "Oh, .Jack Blaze, t
f my Jenmie could come to life again,
here's nothing I'd deny her ! She might
narry a chimney-sweep, and 1'd give her t
ay blessing, let alone a good sailor like 1
'ou, as I know nothing against, but. that
c's what I was thirty years ago. Oh,
ack, if .Jennie could come back to life, I'd
lve her to you and be happy ; but its no t
se. she's (Irowned." C
''Captain," said Jack Blaze, betiding 1
ver me, "I don't fe.,l sure of that." C
''El !" said I. C
"I'o be sure,'' said he, "if she was in 1
he cabin, locked up as you left her, she'd "
live drowned certain sure; but she nayn't
ave been." 1
''hl' 1"shrieked I again.
"Inudeecd,'' said Jack, "1 know she
varn't."
Oh, Lord, help me 1 )on't torture me,"
aid I. ''Speak out.''
'"She warn't Captain,'' said Jack, "for ti
feen minates after you left I went aboard, tt
lurst open the door-there was no one t
here but the cabin boy-and took her out.
Ye went to the cabin togellher and we had
lovely day. The Saucy Jane's cabin was J
Love in ; the coalboat walked straight into i
be cabin, Captain, and it's God's mercy 1
ok her out." hi
'T'hen I heard a dear sweet voice, crying
ut- t
"Jack, open the door ; let me come to
apa. V
1 hadn't cried before since I was flogged e
t school, but 1 cried like a baby then, and
ow coul I help it? For . ennie had come s
it of the grave, as it seemed to me, and 1
as holding my head in her arlms. nutl U
issing me, and calling ne her darling. t
1 was so happy 1 thought I should (lie,
nd I never remembered that I had lost the
aulcy Jane until the next morning, though
te boat way the very apple of my eye.
I own another now, and Jack and 1 take
or up and down the river.
Jennie goes with us very often, for she i
tarried .Jack Blaze last Christ uas, and I e
ke the lad-yes, 1 like him almost as well i
s Jennie does. 1 think, for if I had been
3ft to myself, and he had not set himself a
gainst tme that dreadful ay, I should have
o daughter now, and 1 would be her mur
erer. ti
Our "Pinafore."
1
"We'll have a boat, and not a horse this t
acation," roared our hopeful, just out of t
chool and just in his teens. "Because 11
rhen we've got a boat, we've got it, and a a
orse always-eats his head of, to say noth
ig of shoeig andi keeping the wvagon in a
1)pair."
So the bioat wvas pulrchasedl, a Seond han11I
at bottomed punt, and for two days Id
cardi little besides "'her model." t
Being the exchequier of the family, the 3
ret draft madle was for "pa)iintinlg" and( ii
'caulking"-"'beciuse" she nceeded "'lix- 0
ig up," and "like( all other row-boats she
iaked." For two more (lays tIme enitiro dl
onverstition was dievotedI to the appearance I
f "her bottom," "puttying her seams," a
nd the prettiest colors for our craft. 1
Once aigaini in the water, shio was found a
r> "yaw aroundl badly," whietn a rudd(er was5 I
ecidled to ho the thing. Consequently a
arpentar was enlisted and a rudder such as s
house carpeinter and1( latid hubber would e
ahion was made for the J1%afore.
Ini pulling about the river, oii the banks 1
>nr hopeful (discoveredi a stnare ini the formi y
>f a boat-builder, who rented all st,yles of r
voll made crafts, to make others dissatis- a
ledi with their own. Tlhe first of this 01(d
cllow's suggestions was a sail for the JPin
r/oro. Tihiercfore, the oars, whlich, by the
vay, were just, paid for (the old ones hay- y
ng no0 '"spoonis"), were looked upon with
lisdain by our sotn and heir, who began
ioisting his breeches and donining the man
ier of a sklpper. The saili was imade and1(
toppedh, and1( we sulpposed the goal reached, A
vlien a "leeboard" was foutnd Iidispensahle. 1
'his add(ed, there is nothing now desiredl, t
mut a,new 1%afiore~ "built to stil, you t
mnow, not an 01(1 tub alteredl over." ]Bar
lung the (daily renewal of a spuinge, an oc- <
:asional rowlock, atnd rope0 and tioat, which
ire stoleni about every other night, we sil <
inletly fe rward, anticipating the new Pin
rfo which the 01(1 stnare 1has promiised to
'build cheap (luring Wititer months."
Street, Spriniking ini Paris.
The City of Paris camploys one or two I
rery effective devices for street sprinikling,
)ue of these b)eing a tank, or oblotng box,
nade(1 of sheet Iron, anid which hias a seat
for the driver, whence the tatnk can lbe op- I
3ratedh. Th'le capacity of thIs tanik is some
340 gallons, anui it works on a stipl fiteen
reet wl(de at each passage; It is emi)ptied
ifter a run of from 1,500 to 2,000 feet., ac- I
aordiing to Its contents The filling Is (tone
1)y a leather or India11 rubber hose screwed I
to hydrants uinder the sidewvalks, and so
upaced that the tanks have only short dis
canmces to run when emptied. One tank
mimflcs for an area of two and a half acres I
af metall'ed liurface, or five acres of p)avedi
street.s. IIand sprInklers are usedl for tIme I
planited alley; thme hose;Is scrowed to hy
ulrants placed at'sultable distances, -and the I
apparatus which Is,f rom fort to fifty feet 1
long can;~ withi a head of fift feet, accom
plish the task of throwing 'A 'jet of forty
feet,amplitude. ,
6)A Atr fotuta man'% arrent sis lke
iir old c6at,'hMMe W9:6P' T
Gn. Forrer.ts Uamo of Poker.
Several years ago Gceeral Forrest visite(I
ashville, and stopped at the ohl City llo.
el. That night several gentlemen called
o see him, among themi a gentleman now
onected with the Banner. ''hle room had
een crowded during the early pllar. of th
ight, and Forrest had received the usual
ttention bestowed on him. Now, lowevel
ie wias sitting ol by hianself and appeared
vornl and tired out. Our infrmant, wish
ag to have a talk with him about himself,
ought him and entered into conversatio1
vith him.
"'Ceneral," says lie, I've heard you wert
great. poker player in your time."
"Yes," says the general, "I have played
omne," and his eyes began to sparkle witi
lIe memory of old times, and he at oncc
cemed interested in the subject, for he it
nown that no one wais fonder of recount
rmng his wonderful exploits.
"llow much, general, was the largest
Lake you ever phyed ?"
"I once called $18,000 in New Orleans."
"Did you win?"
"Oh, yesl I won it."
"'What wias your hand, general ?"
'It was three kings."
"But," says lie, "the hardest gamue I
ver played was at Mem phis. .1 ust aftet
ie war closed Inc and my wife went to
lempliis, and stopped at. the Worsham
louse. The next morning we got ou
aings together, and I emptied all of my
apers out of my trunk on the floor, and
lary, (I'm riot certain his wife's name was
lary, but that will do for the tale) went
ver and over them, hunting for sonethiii
> raise money out of. I emptied my pock
Ls and Mary emptied her'n, and between
s we had .'7.30. After huntin' over ev
rytlung we found that every man who
wed us was either dead or broke. 1 had
of one single paper on which I could raise
cent out,'n.
"After we got through the pile I looked
t Mary and ,llary looked at me. 'Now
hat's to be done, Alary,' says I. 'I don't
now,' says she, 'but the Lord will urovide.
o01 see, Mary was one of the best women
1 the world, and she had a heap of faith
1 her religion. I looked at her st raight for
long time, and at last says: "Alary, you
re a mighty good womtan, and I'm going to
-ll you something. There's to be a big din
er at this evening, and I'm invited.
'hey always play poker at that house, and
ou have always been, agin me playing, inid
reckon you are l ight about it. But things
ave become desperate with us, and somec
ow 1 feel if you wouldn't he agin me, but
oul(1 pray for me, 1 could make a raise
>-night.'
"Says she: '13edford, I can,t do it. It's
,rong for yo1 to do it, and I'd a heap rath
r you wouldn't.,
" 'lut lary,' says I, 'I never was in
ich a fix before. h ere we are with no
ioney but $7.30, and that won't pay our
tvernl bill. I cay't lose no no' 1.11111 that
>r I swear I won t bet on 3a credit. it I
>se that, I'll cone home; and if I win then
'e'll have something to start oi'
''Well, I argued and argued with her,
uit she wouldn't say yes. But at last she
tys :
"'1edford, I know your mind Is set on
illd I know you are going to bet, wheth
r I am willin' or not ; so I won'tsay noth
ig more about it.'
'".liut,somtehow,1 felt when I started that
ue was for le, and 1 jist knowed how
would be.'
"Well, 1 went sometime before dinner,
n(], sure enough, they were at it. They
ad three tables-one had at quarter ante,
ne a half, and one a dollar and a half. I
manted imy seven dollars to last as long as
could make it, so I set down to the (lar
'r table. We bet on until dinner, and by
liat time-1 had eiough to do better ; and
fter we had cat, I sat down to the dollar
id-a-lhalf table. Sometimes I won, and
.en again I'd lose on uatil ab.out 1.. I.mnigh
aid then 1 had better' luck. I know'd
[airy wais setting ump and1( pra1ying; I felt
ke it, and it mad(e inmecool. I set my hat,
ownl by my13 sidhe on tIle iloor', and1( cycry
me1 .1'd wvin ['d1 dr3op the mloneCy in the hat.
V"e played onl, and I didn't know how
mhel l'dl woni. I didn13't, keel) anly counat,
uIt, I knowv'd I was winn3in)g.
"I thought may be I'd woan a hundred
ollars, or' may be two hundred dollars, but
dIidnI't knlow. I set, there until daiy broke
nd( thlen we wenlt home. I took miy hat, up1
i both hainds and1( nashed it on my hecad
nd( went home1 without talking it, off. When
got to miy room there sat Mlary in her1
own, and1( the bed wvasn't miashed(. She'd
at up all aighit walitinig for me. She seem
dl t,iredI and1 anxious, and1( though she look
d mIghty hard alt1i meshe didnI't, sa~y a wvord.
walked righIt up to her, and1( puilling oil
iy halt withl both hands I emplltied it, al1l
gigt in her gownl. And thlen wve set, down
"I tow much was there, genecral ?"
"'Jus1t fifteeni hundred dol lars even."
"'And thiat," addl(ed tIle genieral, als he
lIalked1 off, "give me1 a1 stalrt."
A Chancee for Work.
One moraiing I walked oult by mlyself.
dII allong the muarshl roaid the farmers wvere
nusy In theIr mlead(ows mnowinlg and tuirning
hir hay. A coup1le of regular'ly ordaineid
ramps, 1(dle and1 aimless as mryself, and1(
illcht better acquainatedl withI the, road(,pass5
(13me, and1( I taggedl along In their longing~
vake. Preseantly the voice of the fairame
113)0oOver t,h0 8weOt-scenlted1 iieadOw8|
"Ifallo 1"
The tmmflps hlted. "IIallo yourself,'
houted one of themi.
"Dio you want to hire ?" yelled tI<
armor.
Jud(ge of my aistonishmnent when boLli
rampsl) chorused back
'"Well, I thiought, theoy alren't Americas
rampsl) antyhiow, or they 'wou3ln't dilsgract
lie p)rofession in tis way. But I stood
t,III to listen and waltch, for It was8 113 ua.
isumal sight ; two tramlps golig to work.
"Thlen comle over hlere I" yelled thx
armor, and1( the two fellows sprang over th<
ence and1( truidged across the meadlow with
lie brisk air of men wvho relly wantec
york and1( meant busIness. Theli farmea
teod stIll, leanIng on lis pitchfork, gazIng
utently at m inotmotiless fIgure. Present
y nhs voice broke the silence onice more,
"Don1't that other fellow want to hire,
oo?f" he yelled.
The two tramps turned. and glanced al
n1e for am reply. I shook my hlead sadlyi
)ut firmly, and moved on, wiethout walnui
o hear thle farmer's muttered homiiieptq or
ny laziness. An Amerleyu. ipsy die, .bu
le' never worke.
-Thue4saboit disoove d J4br.ador i
Unod Ijousekopiug.
In the first olaee, the thorough house
keeper feols that the successful manage
ment of her domlestic duties re<puires much
thought and attentionl. Sihe is, therefore,
ulite willing to expend somie birain power
upon it. Now, suliose we set aside on0
hour eaclh morning, anld decide to devote
that entirely to our house. Let the larder
first be visited, and the ways and means
for the day's food be well considered before
the orders are given : and then, if possible,
let the orders b uinal. )o not consider it
at ill (lerogtatory to be seenl studying a
cookery book ; we must be very perfect if
we caln learn nothing from other sources.
Endeavor to have a chiange of food, and
also i variety in the way of serving it-in
short, study your daily dinner. lnve a
book up-stairs in which you enter all the
orders and quantities which shlmuld be given
to the tradespeople each day, and should
the cook order extra or different things, let
her understand that you intend to be the
dispenser of your own income. A good
housekeeper will have some plan in her
mind for the week's food. She will know
when the cook should have sutilcieti stock
to make soup; and every housewife will
soon find how exIxeting the soup to be
made. 1111(1 explahiiug how it, must be (lone,
will form the habit of having it. done.
Our servants are very liuch what. we make
them, and it hats been the lazy and inelli
cient system that housekeeping has degen
erated into that has made servants what
they are. In factories and workshops, the
foreman or forewomn,tl exercises constant
supervision over the workpeople ; so also
should our servants he looked aifter. A fer
the kitchen is attended to, walk up stairs
and see if the rest of the work is properly
carried on. Probably you have given some
order, sei if it. has been executed as you
ish. This general supervision will he ten
times more effect.ual than the usual fault
finding by lits and starts-a gralid row now
and then, when both mistress and maid
lose the control of their tempers, and which
probably ends in notice to quit, being given
from one side to the other. Lastly, pay
your bills yourself : it brings you into con
tact with your tradespeople; it lets you
know more fully the c.rrent prices of arti
cles. Now, your hour's time well em
ployed, and done to t he best of your ability,
dismiss the subject from your mind. 1)o
not be worrying over dinners and servants
all (ay, always bemoaning shortcomings;
and, above atnd beyond all, he morally
courageous. In a home that is well aint
conscientiously managed, it will be impos
sible to find discontent and unhappiness.
A Fiheranul's 'r Ya1'lrn."
Sixly miles from Brooklyn, on Long Isl
and, there is a small village well known as
a favorite resort for fishermen. Its natives
all own boats, and are celebrated for their
skill with the hook and line. Last week
tihe wrner anm .1u ,,,,,,. ..
of its expansive bay gazing in admiration
upon a large fleet of fishing-hoats, which
were anchered thereon. While thus en
gaged we were joined by a low-sized weat.h
cr-beaten son of the sea. IIe approached
us slowly, raised his battered straw hat,and
said :
''J ust. arrived, gen'ilmen ? Reckon you've
come down to take a hack at the blue fIsh."
"That is our intentlon," we said. "H [ave
you a boat fit for the purposo ?"
"Wall, you're right, gen''nien. Do you
see that sloop yonder ?" and the old man
extended i stump of a forefinger in the di
reclon of a cranky-looking, small-sized
boat lying at anchor all alone, as if she did
not deeml herself fit company for her more
modern-looking sisters. She was painted
a dirty yellow, with a faded blue streak
above the water line, and she possessed a
(leci(ledly unprepossessing appllearance. This
was suggeste1 to the old nian in a manner
which was not calculatedt to hurt his feel
ings.
"I'll allow she ain't much on style,"
said lie, "and1( if yer want a boat with vel
vet cushions, where ycr kin lay with yer
hleadl in yer gill's lap and munch candly
while she readls p)o'try to yer, she ain't the
craft, for yer ; buit if y'er wants a 50ol(d craft,
that ain't afeerd of wind or water to (10 ycr
fIshing ini, there's your boat and I'um the
man kin sail her."
TIhere was something In the force of his
argument that, led us to place conldence In
him, andl in two minutes a satisfactory bar
galin was maide. We trudged back to t.he
hotel, at wvhich, under the Inspiration of
sunidry p)ota)tions, t.ho old( man grew confit
denutial and voluble.
"Gten'l'mien," said he, ''when youl've
heerd wvhat I'mu agoinug to tell yer you'll ail
low there aIn't 110 better boat in thle hay
than the Sary Matibler. I calls 1her Sary
M~atikier after the youlngst. gill of Scuddee
Conkling, who ownis that big ho'uise downu
on the 1''int, I git an 0(1( job now and
then dhuiring the winter down to thne P'int
and1( 1 mned the boat out of-of--"
''Grat itudel," waus suggested.
"T'hat's the word, genTm'uen. Well, as I
wvas a saylng, a fewv sumners ago there wams
a couple1 of youing studenCut.chuaps canme dowun
from York, anid they hired mco for a week
to take 'ema ffshin' and( salhn'. Well, thei
fust day we ketchued sixty-five bIlue-fishi and
Spaumlsh mackerel, amnd when wo got, home
sir, them fellers' hiands, as wasu 'itisedl to
hard work, was all cut, and b.mtered. I
dloctored 'em with sweet lIe amid flotur, but
they took a long tiume to hieal, and they
worc gloves on 'enm while they wais hero.
Of course, this pult ani endi to their fishin';
hut they were genTm'uen, andl they stuck to
their biargain, and took out their week In
saili' over the bay. Th'iey was very fonid
of sailin' alonug the beach and- gatherin'
shIells tind gull's eggs and beach lumsn) and1
sea-weeds, and( mall that kind of trash--"
"W~ell, 1 don't think It'll hurt mie," he
saId, hai answer' to anl literruuptIon, and1( li
poured out a half tumbler of Medford rnm.
"WVell, we was a-salhn' along one0 after
noon, huggini' thge shore pretty close, when
I heerd a treumendous screechin and flutter
I in' of wings, and( I looks uph, amnd theme
Iover tie P it was nmoro'n a millon gulls
actln' like they was crazy."
"What's that ?" says may passengers.
"'Gulls a-feedin', sez I. . 'Mayhap a
sdhiool of bunker or some dead sharks is
a-coin'ii thirough the hulet and the creatures
Is a-feedin' on 'ema. Ilowsomever, we'll
rin (down and sce.' With~ that I shook the
reefs out'n the mnalns'h,.aud away she flew.
(len'l'imen, when I got beoy9nd that P'int I
see a sigh; whuat I'll unever see ag'n. Rlight
in the mIdle of the chianieol the Waves was
Ia.bill' four feet.highi, and- they was;allve
.wittfish; bhute-llsh,:gonTu len,:and avhop
pegg;at tit.;, On bolinsldde of the chlam)no
li water as as qitiet'rsthy licker In that
ttle owe bys.!teamaaidit/ no..snryer
myself, and I don't allow no man to give
ine pints atbout blue-lishin', andt in less'nt a
minute I had two outriggers and four starn
linus a-driftin' in the water behindt us.
"Ve sails il) the smooth water right
'long-side of these rollin' waves, wlhnt.'d re
mind yer of stoo)in' along ia stone wall, an'
there I see fish a-dartin' and a-flyin' like
shrimpll in at box. They rushed on them
lines a hundred at onet, and, whtish I away
went the whole tackle. That happened
ag'in and ag'in until I hadn't a s<iuid aboard
the boat ; but I warn't comin' ashore with
out some of them lish1 ; not by no mealans;
so an idea struck.
" 'Boys,' says 1, 'be you gaine ?'
"'We be,' says they, and they looked
game, spite of their sore hands.
"'Will you jino mne in dom1' what no
mortal mitan has ever done afore '
" 'We will,' says they ; 'we'll stick
through t';r.k and thin.'
"With '1h:t I puts the boat. atbtout and
sails down to where t(e sea was the rough
est. '13oys,' says I, 'brace il) agi11' that
eabint an' hold on for your lives. )on't
move till I say "scoop," and then you wanlt
to scoop.' ''hcre was a stiff breeze from
the nor'west and I depended on that to help
ie through. I got astride the helium and
pinted the how for a big wave that. looked
like it was a-goin to swallow us. Sary Ma
tilder knew ther relpertation was at stake,
and she wasn't a-goin' to lose it. She dash
ed right into it like a (luck, and away she
went. two feet under w'ater, ail( right below
that school of lish that was a-lightin' and
a-bit in' right over us. 'Scoolp,' says I, t:'d
the way theta fellers gathered in them fish
wais a sight. to see. When we got out itto
the smooth water the cock-pit was three
feet deep Wilh them ish a It flol)l)in' and
a-tryin' their best to get out. They was i
slidin' over the decks, and when iie and
the young fellers had got 'em all stowed
away, the gunnels of the Mary Matiler was
only an inch out of the water, and three
Iireder icin than we was never eaue back
fromi ai tislin' excursion. Why, Item three
men couldn't raise their arms to their heads
for nigh onto three days."
1 low nany lish did you capture ?" we
asked him.
'Well, gen'l'men, by actool count there
was just 1, 11i blue-fish, and not one of
them weighed less'n ten pounds. h'lat.'s
without countin' a hushel or so of sanIll
fish that we chucked overboard. I felt, its
if I'd done my dtly that day, and I didn't
blow nuch atbout. it ; but, somIehow the
story got. out, and down comes sonieof them
newspaper fellers fron New York, and
they of1ers me as high ts $": to tell the
story ; bIt I wasn't agoint' to give it away.
But I heerd last week then two young fel
lers was drowned in a iresh-waer place in
York State, and I felt somehow as tlie 8013'
had to bie told some y(1113 or other. That's
why I fold yer to-day."
"When did this occur, ('ap ?" asked tle
landlord, who had been a silent listener.
"Oh, before you came down here," an
got no business. Come, hoys," said ie,
turning to us, take a 'nightcap" with me,
and I'll be on hand for yer at tive o'clock
sharp.
John Ka1andlph V'anuished.
John Riandolph was not always victor inl
the petty discords of the neighborhood. lie
Wits vaiuished olce, on Ia field of his own
selection, by i quiet, resolute neighbor ;
and he confessed hnnself, not in so miany
words, but by his actions, as beaten at his
own ganle. The locality must bo deseribed:
The land of Mr. II. lay broadly between
Bushy Park and the courthouse, and the
land of Bushy Park lays as broadly hetuween
the residence of Mr. 11. and the mill a the
neighborhood on St:alntonl river. I'Iere
were two roads to the courthouse for Mr.
Randolph ; one, the longer and worse, was
the sitage routad from the courthouse to the
river ; thec othier, shorter anda( better, through
the lands aof Mr. I. 'lTiere were twvo roads
to thie mill for Mr. 1T.; the shorter <mda hiet
ter- one through Hushy Park, and the stage
roaid to) the river, ad then ailong its low,
flat, aund mudhdy banks to the mill. These
plrivaite roatds lad been open anid free fromn
olden tuie.
One morning the mill boy ieturnedco to the
house aiid in1f1oed Mr. II. tht, the old
way to the mill wvas cuti off. Mr. I[indolph
lad erected ai strong pos)t and rail fence
aci-oss the road, aund therec was no opening
in the fence on1 either side for a long dlis
tance. Everyb)ody went to mill, andt every -
1bodly soon1 found out, the fact, of the fence ini
the waty. 'JThe one concl:uision of aill wvas ihe
same. it wals onie of Alt. llandolph's freaks.
Beyond, tand dheepein lthe w'ods than the
privaite iroadl to the mill, was the privaite
road1( to the couirthouse. When on the iiext
court (liy MIr. IRando4lphl patssedI out (of the
woods (in his ownt prem)iseint 11(4 those of
Mr. II. lie wa's confironitedh with a fenice ten
rails high, with stakes and ridters at every
panleh--a foridhable obistaicle in his wvay,
anid exteniiniig right and left as fair tis the
eye could ireachl. I Ie took in the aitualtIon,
and, as lhe was alhone, it Is niot known thtat
lie miade any remiarks, or wvhethier they were
sharp pointedl or not. Months passed away.
The situation was not, chuangedl. Inicon
venience, trouble, exasperation grew ando
mult,iplIed as the time lengthened.
Late one morning Mr-. Rlandolph, just ar
rivedl, ridinlg acioss the courtyardt, met Mr-.
H., ando checking his horse, leaitng over
the saddle, said, with a courteous bow:
"Mr. A., if you'll let mue go to court I'll
let you go to mill."
''Certainly, Mr. Randolph, with 1ileasuire.
But, Mr. Randolph, you baeganu It.'
"Yes, sir ; and( Ill end( It."
In a few days, strong, wideo gates, over
each road, swung frecely to every oine who
had( occasion to go through In either direc
tion.
hlow to Deal with lBats.
We clean our preisesc of these dletesta
ble0 vermin by making a white-wash yellow
wit,h copperas1i and coverhng theo Stones and
rafters of the cellar wit,h a thick coat of It.
In every crevice where a rat might treadl we
pt crystals of the copperas and scatteredh
the same In the corners of the floor. The
r-esutlt waIs a peCrfcCt stampeI)de of rats and
mice0. SInce that time not a foot-fall of
eIther rats or mice hias been heard abouut, the
house. Every sprig a coat of, the yellow
wash Is given to the cellar, des a purIfier as
well as ei rat extermnntor, and no typhoid,
dyseni,ery, or fe'ver, attacoks the family.
Mgy ersons deliberately. attract all the
rats ithe niiighborhiood byleavIng fruits
and vegetaibles uncoyet~ed in ths cellar; and
sonietines oven theiAoftp-soraps Ire left,open
fey' their regalement. 'Cover uip everythilhg
atahin r 'the oellar' and nantry. Andi .en
liortha and thu ocean.
Whenl Bertha looked from the windows
of her home she could see the ocean shin
ing, darkening and movint; restlessly underi
the siun, the elc)uds and the wind. !
Bertha little knew of the sorrow the
ocean had Created. To her it was a joyful 1
mystery. Who put the great water there?
Why did it whirl, dance, frown and smile a
along the beach and never go to sleep like
little girls? These were questions 3ertha.
asked herself and could not answer.
It brought her line gifts, too, of pearly
shells and trailing sea-weed, and traced
rare curves and delieate markings along the
sand.
Bertha's mother used to sit by the win
(low sewing, and once in at long while her
hands would rest idly in her lap and her
eyes looked far away over the rolling
wuves.
Tl'henl Bertha would leave her play and t
nestle close by her mother's side and ask
hert many quest ionus, and chief among thet a1
where her father could be and why lie
never cate home; but het muot her only f
answered, still looking at tlie waves, that
father had gone away in a far country, she u
thought, and so it was not long before Ber
tha noticed, or rather felt, that her mother
nevet. smiled at the sea.
It was at lonely shore where Ilerthat lived,
and she used to play abouti a great, deal, (
talking sweetly to herself all the timne.
Bertlha was a (Ilueer lilttle girl. Often she
sat down in a shelltered nook, secure among ,
the rocks, and wished there was some one .
to play with her. Ihit. there wts no one.
Often in the quiet itAternoons she had long
dreams about her fat her, who went. atwily
in a great. ship, and whose face she coull
just renember.
Froni her place among the rocks she
culid see far away altnIg the sand, a little
v'il lage where there were whitle houses and1(
a port, atnd otnce in t while a sail would '
grow slowly out from I te silent. horiionl i'
and glide gently towards that village hit
vetlt.
"All the ships go in there," said BertJha, t
one daiy. ''Perhaps any father will coie
Iftat way. I tmust go and see if ie don't y
right away this tintute."
Without tlhinking how frightened her
mother wouhl be or how long it would take e
her to reach lie village, she ran swiftly n
atway over the hot, and shining sand.
For a long timie she walked, antd her feet,
began to ache and her heart to slnk within o
her, for the vilhage seemed further aiway
than ever before.
The sun w ent behind a kloud, and the t
waves instead of dancilg joyfully as whetn i
she started. now seelied to shout ts they
rolled in tIpon tIhe shore, ''(o btkek, rel un,'' 1
over tand over aagaiin. 1ut. wheti she looked e
Ihack, her homtt. was not to be seen. I
She was lost, and in her mlintl's eye ahe
saw her mother rutmin g atbout amtontg the s
rocks very white and frightened, calling,
"Ilertlha, where are you?" The village, t
too, was now hidlden by ak wall of' rock, antid
As she slit there'"liVil ti il%rifllt"'M
shouh do, she siw at ht'arletd tmian tilp- t
proaeling her. As soon as hec reached her
he put. his great. brown hati gently upon ,
her Shouler, nid saii, very kindly :
"1ly little lass, what is the trouble?"
"1 am Iootestl,'' said liertha. I
"Lost, you menn," std t Ihe stranger
satlllir, "Alnd how elnle youl so \hatt
i i your natne a hI
"Why don't you know ?" she said. "I (
he Bertha. I was going to titi o y papa, i
because I and ntmamma be till alone antd
papat hats been away at dreadf'ul long time', O
such t long time I think lie never will kn Iw
the way back if I don't lind lim aid show la
him where we live-oh look at that big i
white bird out there I Bitt I he 'fraid I
canu't 1int1 iny lpapt now. Do yout know
whe're "
Bertha stIopped talk ing si<derly. The
stranger was pressiIg her it is afins so
so close she couhl niot speak, antd there were
teats ini lis eyes.
"j will take you home little tone," hte
said husaklly.
"'Ilas ytou got. a coldl ?"' said Bter.tha;
"'eause ytu ulkm't talk right and1( plain2 like '
Wihent Berthat anid the st ranger eniter'ed I
lhe co',tage hier' tmthier gave ak great cry.I
Th'Iat ntight the waves upont tile bwteh (
had1( hushed Ihattt.ia to sleelp before shte I
could1( believe she hadk( reaklly founid hetr fa
ther akt last. 1
When you go to the table take yotur seat
(lulietly andu do no(t commtueneue to (lat unttil
akll your frienids tare served.
D)o not, eat fiast.
IDo ttot shovel your food inito yourt mtouthi
wvith your knife, but eaIt withi a fork and1(
ct your food with your knife.
If yoiu are asked whait pat of anyttintg
yout wanit, state it. If youi (It nt, the per'
son wtaitinag on you does not kniow what to
gIve you.
D)o not, rest youtr elbows ont then table.
If a plaute Is pasusedl to you keep 'it, and
(1o not, 1pass It all artotiud the tab11le. Tlhe
persont who waits ont you (does not kniow
who to piass the tnext to.t
D)o tnot, make the drinikinig from cup or
spoon2 ai vocal exercise.
IDo tnot heap11 yourt plate with what you
canniot eat.
If anyt,hing Is wronig withk somtethintg youi
nre eatIng, do not speak about it or show It '
to ainybody, blut get ridt of It ats (quietly anid ,'
qulickly as poss8Ible.
D)o not catch 1hold of kntife, fork,or spoon
with the wholo hiand( w'ith aL grip like a lob
ster's, but, hold them easily and ila the rIght
p)ositionl.
When yoti pass youir plate for more food,
rest your knIfe anid fork agauhust either your S
butter plate or saucer.
D)o not reacht for bautter with your own
kife, but use the butter kife.
D)o inot pour coffee or teca Into a sauicer to I;
cool.
1)8 not blow anythIng to cool it.t
J)o not leave the table wvhilhe anybody Is
eatIng without askinig to be0 excused.
A River of Intk,
Ini 'AlgerIa there Is a river of genuine 4
Ink. It is formed by the unihon of two
streams, one coming from the region of for
ruginous soIl, the other draiing a peat I
swamp. Trho water of the fortmer is
strongly impiregnted with iron, that of tho
latter with gallie acid. When thte two Wa-c
ters mingle the acId of thte one' unites with
the iron of t,he other, formIng a triu Igk
All useoless misery is certainly .folly
and he tha feets OVu'S (teot 14or om
may itlOrVOdy cen n yet,.y0
to d .
FOOD FOR THOUGHT.
lFew men are qluite fit to live.
When t'ie moon gets full it koeps late
ours.
The oldest verse in existence--the
Jniverse.
Ignorance has no light; error follows
false one.
There is no grief like the grief which
loes not speak.
lIe who blackens others does not
vhlteni himself.
It is a good sign when a man is glad
hat God see him.
A tine coat may cover a fool, but
lover conceals one.
Ignorance is a subject for pity, not
nughtter.
A knowledge of mankind is necessary
0 acquIIire priidence.
Darkness, solicitude and remorse are
grim and liateful company.
'I'he test of moral character Is noil
allibility but reiuperat,ivu power.
Often a reserve that hides a bitter
umilliation seems to be hauglitiness.
A great experience transforms. We
11111t en 1ie more or less than our old
elves.
Wheia ituman mind gets lown to a
e(p in i a rut of thinking It is hard to
it It out.
Flowers sweeten the air, rejoice the
ye, link is with nature andl innocence,
util are somethinig to love.
This is the present reward of virtuous
ondluct-that no unlucky consequence
aln obilige us to regret it.
litegrily without knowledge is weak
mil useless, and knowledge without in
,grity is dangerous and dreadful.
It is so hard for us to uinderstatd why
ir fr ieids do not feel our wrongs so
oigniantly as we do.
The improved and pous way of gos
ipling is to sweetotli scandal with the
reuele of honilizing inferences.
Nothing In all this social universe is
litterly thrown away arid trodden tinl
er loot as a dishonored woman.
Ihero nauking is a woman's work-,
ven your <ensible anti praetleal woman
tist take to hero makingsooneror later.
EIvy and mualice are devils that drive
. sssedt soutIs into tie CotllplIlation
1 that which aggravates their madness.
The ietaphysics or sitvation ire not
n tiunch conseliueiee, when one Is on
aged in the practice of actually say
)g li1en.
It 14 one of the advantages of women
iat not pretending to be logical, they
a cliinge front, ont the instant, when
iey see lit.
There is no safe ground for a good
11iud preacher. but to attack ancient
ckediness and the 1111. and stupersti
ols of foreign countries.
The business of liie is to go forwar-1;
te way ; tut Tld \vrittcitur -Unrofr
roslectlon, tiurns back to find it.
TIhe humible muan, though surrounded
it,h the scorn and reproach of the
rorld, is still in peaee, for the stability
f his poace reste not upon the world
lit only God.
die who hegil by loving Christianity
etter tban truth will proceed by loving
is own sect or church better than
h rist,lauity, and enmd In loving hilsopint
Ius iestof all.
Knowledge cannot be acquired with
i, paln and applittion. It is trouble
imle, and like digging for pure waters,
lit, when once you conie to the spring,
rises ill) to meet you.
It is better that joy should be spread
ver all the day in the form of strength,
han that it should be concentrated in
j ccstacies full of danger, and follow
di by reactionis.
Thbere are treasures laid up in tihe
eairt-t,reasures of chiarity piet,y, tem
erance and1( soberness. These treas
res a man takes wIth him oeyonmd
eath, when lhe leaves thIs world.
A man's natuare is best perceived in
rivateuiess, for there is no'affetation ;
aipsslonl, for that p)utteth a man out
I. his p)recep)ts, and im a ie w case or ex
erinmunt, for there custom leaveth him.
The beginnIing of hiardlsip Is.like time
irst taIst.e of bitter food-it seems for a
i ment,1 unbearable; yet, if there is
othintg eise to satisfy your hutnger, we
ike anot01her bite amnd f11md it possible to
o on.
Wiben one sini Is admiiitted, it lsgener
.ihy found that it bath a comIIpatihon
vaitintg at the door; aind t,he former
viii work hard to secure the admhh3sion
I' thle latter, hin which It generally sue
Women govermi us; let us5 try to ren
ler them imore perf cot. Tile more they
re enllighltenled, so much time more we
hall1 be. Omn the cultivation of time
lis of womien, depends tihe wisdom
f' man.
Make up your mInd wh'lat you intend /
>dlo. Sitdownandcoounttimecost. D)o
ct undertake more than you can per
orm. It is unwise to commence work
hmat you are not able to linish in due
Oh, how fumll of error is the Judgment~
.f mnanikind i Thiey wondier at relsult s
rhien they are ignorant of the reasons.
'hey call it fortune when thley know
ot t,he cause, and( thus worship their
wn Ignorance turned i'ntota dotty.
Let thmose whmo are appointed to jit~ e =
f the character of' othiere bear iii mn id
here owni imperf'ections, sand ratmir
trive by sympathy to. goekn th.pgng
rising from a convietlenof guilt, thamn
y misrepresetation to inteae It.
Vice Is very prolifld.' Alie'hlt to
e alone, and rnust havd edibpany, He
vhio tolls one Zie is sure Ao toellaQter
o cover up the firsp,,anl a tjdto
over up thQ 9thier twee Ateot #44
ecomes acoustome4. to ip an g
Make use of tnei
mty; know yesterdlyab~~l
lay is only ln
ras.thpate1 thu ot
ilorro*s.
A:farmeIk4 ' AfI
orhtQO I~ , ~*~k
eld -~;4
n~iO~M '