University of South Carolina Libraries
fRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., DECEMBER 25, 1879. VOL Tir-NO 1A1 "ROCK ME TO SLEEP." Daekward, turn baokwiarj, 0 Time! to your flight Make me 4 o' ,ild agaiuo-jiust for to-nigint! Mother, come back from the echoless shore, ,'ao mo again to your heart as of yore; Hiss from my forchoads the furr wo of care, Hmoot'I tho few silver throads out of my hair; Over my slumbers your lovitig watch keep Rook me to sloop. Mother, rook me to sleep! "Backward. flow baokward. O nwift tide of years! I an weary of toil, I am weary of tears; Toll with :ut reeotupansc%, tears all lin vai, Take them. and give me my childhood again! I havo growen weary of duit and decay, Weary of flinging my soul-woa:th away, Weary of sowin; for otherd to -oap; Rlook me to a'eo . Mothor, rook me to steop! "Tlrad of the hollow, the baie, the untrue; M->ther. 0 M'ther my heart calls for you! Many a 'dum:ner the grass his grawn green, Blosioming an I faded. our faces between: Yet with sutrong yearning and passionato patn. Long I to-ni ht for your pr aeneo again, Come from the slonce so long and so deep Rook me to sleep, Mother. rook me to sloop! "Over my heart In the days that have flown, No love like inoator-lovo ever has shown: No other worAbip;abielos and endures, Faithful, unsolail', and patient, like yours; None like a mother can charm away pain From the sorrow nz soul and the worid-%veary brain; Blumber's soft calm o'er my weary lidi creep Rook me to sloop, Mother, rook me to sloop! "Come lot your-brown hair just lighted with gold, Fall on my shoulders again as of old; Let It fall over my forehead to-night, Shielding my eyes from the flickering light, For oh! with it's sunny-edged shadows one niore, Iaply will throng the sweet vi-ion of yore; Lovingly, softly its bright willows weep Rook me to sleep, Mother, rook me to sleop! "Mother, dear mother! the years have beon ong Siico last [ was hushed by your lil'aby song; Sing, thou again!-t> my soul it shall soo:n Womanhood's years have boon only a drt am Clasp to your arms in a loving embrace, With your soft, li .ht lashes just sweeping my face Never h reafter to wake or to weep; Bock me to t-le p, Mother. rook me to sel' pl" Mr Parsons' Will. it was my first visit to London since I had !aken up my abode and entered on the practice of my profession as soheltor at Southampton. In London I had a very dear friend, my old college friend, George Dikaon; and as le was the only person I knew In the great nictropolis, of course I lost no time In look ing him up. Three years had passed since our last meeting, but ten could have scarcely pro duced a change' more marked than had taken place in the appearance and manner of my friend. Our first greeting atid friendly inquiries over, I longed, yet forbore, to ask the cause of my friend's melancholy. I felt sure, in dhue time, of being made the con fidant of the secret, provided no motive of delicacy prompted its concealment. That evening in my room at the hotel, George told me his story. He had formed an attachment for a young lady, whose graces of mind and person lie portrayed with all the fervor of a lover's eloquence. She had returned his affection, but her fathter had opposed his suit, having set his heart on the tmarriage of his daughter to a nephew of lig. Thlis nephewv was a young surgeon, of profigate character, my firiend assured me -bunt that uay have been pr'ejudc-whio had long, but unsuccessfully, wooed his cusin, to whom his offers were as repug. nant as to her father thtey were acceptable. Sotme months since, Mr. Parsons, the young lady's father, had gone into Iamp shire on business, accompanied by his nephew. At Southampton lie was seized with a sudden illness, which terminated fatally in three days. On the day preceding his death ho had executed a will (which had since been duly proved by the depositions of the attes',ing witness), containing a request that his (laughter, to whom Ito left the whole of his estate, should accept the hand of hisa nephew In marriage, coupled with the. pro vision that in ease the latter offered, and she refused within a specified time to enter Into the proposed union, the whole estate dlevised for the daiughlter should be forfelited to the nephew. To sacrifice her fortune to her heart's choice would net have cost Julia Parsons a moment's healitationu; and nothing could have more delighted George Dickson thtan so fair an opportunIty of showing how superior his devotion was to all throught of perpe~nal. advantage. But her -father's dyingzentiest, fi Julia'a eyes, was sacred. It hbleurprls4 and startled her, it~is true, as int their conferences on the subject Ihe )tad never gone beyond the most kindly re monstrances, and had never hinted at any thing coercion. magnanimity to forego his ungenerous at vantage, ie might have been content with his co'.sin's fortune alone, but his right to that depended on his offer and her rejection of an alliahce which she f felt in conboieficebotnd to accepto The brief sea son of grece'thibh she had beefd coinpelled to beg oven wih t'oars had already neirlyg passed, and a few more days would wit ness the condemnation of two lives to hope less misery. At the conelusion of my friend's narra af ter be ilovl9 , ,qt Mi~~ eres I prevailed {6pon ton' 1 acom ~inny me to a place of amusement to whlekb had pre. Whed wertedhed the Uhbatie thd Viers fori64 1 &441 f4ady begfdttb$i/M *e4 eceded in finding seats which commanded a fine view both of the stage and the audi ence. In a few moments George touched me on the elbow. "Observe the gentleman nearly opposite, in the front row, seated next to the column leaning his arm on his cane," he whispered. I looked in the direction Indicated, and saw a face whose striking resemblance to one I had seen before caused me to start with surpr) isO. "Who is it?" "Ethridge Parsons," was the reply. "ihe nephew of whom you spoke!" "'Does he resemble his uncle?" I was on the point of inquiring, but just then the stranger drew the glove from his right hand and I saw that the first joint of the middle finger was missing, a circumstance which, for suflicient reasons, absorbed my atten tion. "Do you know the exact date of Mr. P& rson's death?" I asked, when we had gained the street at the close of the per. forniance. "Yes," said George. "It was the twen ty-third of December. Ills daughter re ceived a telegram from her cousin announ cing the fact the same day. But why do you ask?" "I have a reason which may or may not prove a good one," I returned, and, stating that I had business engagements for the whole next day, I parted with my friend, pronlsing to moet him on the following evening. Next afternoon found ine at the house of Mr. Parsons, the nephew. "Mr. Parsons. I presume?" were the words with which I accosted the gentleman I had seen at the theatre. "Yes, sir." "You may not remember me, Mr. Par sons, but I believe that we have iet be fore." "I beg your pardon, sir, for not recollect ing the occasion." "You were in Southampton last winter, I were you not?" "I was," he re)lied, with some embar rassment. "I am the solicitor on whon you called to make a draft of a will." lie turned pale, but made no reply. "I saw a record of that will at Doctors' Commons, this morning," I resumned, "and-" "You speak of my uncle's will," he hastily interrupted. 'And yet," I continued, you said it was yours when you applied to have it written, You represented yourself destrous of exe cuting such a document, preparatory to embarking on a perilous voyage. The paper was drawn in accordar.ce with your instructions. leaving the date to be filled in at the date of signing. Your locks were gray then, and you certainly looked old enough to have a marriageable daughter; but your disguise was not perfect." .And I polnted to the mutilated finger. "What do you mean?" he shouted in a denant tone. "Simply that your uncle's vignature to that will is a forgeryl" I answered, rising, confronting him. "Ile died on the twenty third of December. V our own telegram to that effect is in existence. It was the day before Christmas that you called on me to prepare the document now on record as his will. The interenee is plain; you un dertook to manufacture this spurious testa ment after your unele's death, and, wvisha ing to clothe your villainy in legal. form, you procured from me the required dIraft. You, or some one at your instigation, sim ulated the signature of the deceased. The 'witnesses, who have since perjured them selves in their depositions, were procured in some manner best known to yourself' "Enough, sir," he ejaculated, placing lisa back against the door; "you have shown yourself to be in possession of .secrets, the custody of which proves dangerous.". 1 "I am not unprepared for your threats," I replied. "In the first place, I d1id not come here unarmed; in. the next, I have prepared a full written statement of the facts to which I have alluded, with infar mation, besides, of my present visit to your self. This paper will be delivered to a friend to whom it is directed, unless within an hour I reclaim it from the mnessenge'r, who has been Instructed to retsh: it for that length of time." Ills face grew livid. is frame quivered with mingled fear and rage, and his eye gleamed like that of a wild beast at bay. "What is your purpose?" said he, in a voice hoarse wilth suppressed passion. "To keep your secret while yen live, on one condition." "Name it."' - ' "That you write instantly to Julia' Par.' sons; ronouncihg all pretentionsto her hand and absolutely withdrawing your proposal, pf martage. After a moment's pause he penned a: brief note, 'Ivhich lie submitted to my, in sie6(ibn;M~ We <ite.atf 6.-E M'Ie so good as to seal and address it," I said. lHe did so. "I will soen that it is delivered," I .sail, takIsj It up,%nid btiuin if dett. Wheri jm ter Eb Dis thlat p 'in ,'hlt ld ""lleg" ' k Ad . 6 balck." tteiiacd An~'i ten (fi .The next thing was to take me to see Julia; and it is neetlgsitofay what a happy evening we' spent together, and that a happy nmarriago followed not long after. iigka~tMtGnifmtally btod1r i'of the "London," and went down in that Ill-fated q waio seseo V ~ e ~ I& nernit's Peak. Lookir'g west up the river from Las Vegas, New Mexico, the most notable object in the distant landscape is Herinit's Peak, towering high above its fellows. It ;s a'jout twenty miles distant from town. It is a bold granite mountain toweling at a perpendicular a] titude of 2,000 feet above the bed of tho river, it Is difficult of as cent and there is but one path by which the top can be gained. The summit is bare of vegetation and the altitude renders it, as it looks, cold and inhospitable. It has been an inhabited place, however, the abode of a veritable hermit. In1 1860 there appeared in town an old gray-headed man, who seemed to have been the victim of sonm great ill fortune. He gave no account. of himself, but simply gave his name, how ever, as Juan Augustine. Ile was a man of much !earning and extensive reading, but did not hold mneh commniunciation with his ftllows. le selected the high peak abode town as the place of his abode, and for three years he lived there solitary and alone upon the highest pinnacle of the mountain. He abhorred lire, and never lighted even a candle save on one day of each week, when he kept three small t'pers burning. le was a religious devotee who appeared to be doing penance for an early life of sin; or perhaps for some crime. Iils history was shrouded In mystery. 11e spoke French and Spanish fluently, and some English. His religious zeal and mys terious habits and life created much inl crest unong the simple natives of the surround lig settlements, and they looked upon him with superstitious awe and reverence. They thought it their duty to aid him, and during the whele time of his abode in the moun ains they carried him food and provisions. In this.way he existed like the patriarch of L~ld fed by the ravens. During his three years of self-imposed exile he occasionally made a visit to town, but could not Iso pre vailed upon to enter a house or go nea a fIre. At the end of three years lie left Her nit's Peak and went to the Bernal 11111, southwest of Tecolote, where he lived some timc. An ancient cross Is still there to mark the place of his dwelling. He fan .led high places far removed above the or linary- walks of men. From Bernal Hill i6 journeyed into the wilderness of Grant younty, where the blood-thirsty Apaches, 6vith as little respect for prayers and )enances then as now, murdered and icalped him. lia history and real name ivere never learned, but he gave an endur ng title to the hiqh mlountain west of town, he "Hermit's Peak." English Stories. I was at Buxton, in Derbyshire, the >ther day; so was Lord ledesdale. Ilis Uoidship is of an inquiring mind. A milder was at work on a new house. The >lan was old. 'Where is the back door if this house to be, imy man?" asked the garl. "I know nothing of no back door; I build to plans and mind my own busi less." said the workman. This kind of re )ufr Is very characteristle o1 the lower Ncs ies of the English. It reminds one of the tRev. I. Venu Elliot's experience in Wes tern England. lie was being driven from Bristol to Btha, and sitting by the side of ie coachman, was anxious to draw the 'whip" into conversation, and at the same limo to increase his local knowledge. To ncarly every question the coachman ans wvered, I don't know." Exasperated at last, thtL parson exclaimed, "What do you know ?" "I know how to drive you from Bristol to Bath, was the ready reply. A itory characteristic of English dining pro alivities is just now current at the military Dlubs. A few fellows determined to give a hlinner to a brother officer who had just re turned "covered with glory" from Zulu land. When the night came and dinn. r was served, several men who did not know io hero whom they had met to honor, isked which was lie. This led to inquiry. "Where is the captain ? "Don't know ; hidn't you bring him?" "Not I," was the general answer. Everybody thought some b~ody else would do that, it turned out ihmat the guest of the evenin~g know nothing ihout the festal distinction intended for lilm. So his "brother oflicers'' sat down md eaijoyed themselves wvithout him. Here is another story which Is being told of a Nfajor who has won the Victoria Cross, and .a yet one of lie most nervous of public peakors. Indeed, when he is on lisa legs. xcept for warlike purposes, hie leses his head. Yet they made him get up the other norning at a wedding breakfast, to propose .he health of the bride. Ie wanted to com plment the young lady, as wvell as her nether (a great society dame of title, and a beauty in her day), and he had a vague idea that he had been successful, though lie set down amidst soloin silence. "And, lhe had said, inm concluding a few itammering remarks, "I can not wish the lovely bride a higher dower thiam to hope, is tine rolls on, she may grow up to be more beautiful than her mother, and, and -more virtuous." A Kobber at Ilome.. Frank Paulin is thme leatter of a band of robbers, in Berks county Pa. hie was late ly convicted and sentenced to seven year. lHe lived alone In a cabin on the Blue Mountains. is cabin was built of logs andl the roof was thatched with leaves, hickory poles -and straw. 'ihero was a rude floor In it, covered with a buffalo skin and thme skins of various animals thmmt were kislied on the mountains. Paulin was a bxxi-.shot eind always went armed. In appeni-Aac6 ho resembled a border humnter, and Wvae never known to molest any one. He' wAM quiet, reserved anid gentlemanly in yiemniannere, about thirty-eight years of age, light' ablatrna hair, auburn mustache, we i eared for, light eyes, light complexion, pn d well formed. H~e Isl about medIum iniheight, and lisa frame is well knit. isl figtthfml ~qpanions were two nmaptiffs, and for' eathrs he had been hcdokd upqn ad quise suspidions clhettof. Ner~ every~ every$ ovenibg'tho blue -simoke curld up from the rude chimney of'ise cabin, and persons yho passed thet way frequenut' ly otated that the moat. eavory smells bf dolgn cani ofr~qm o~fire-pla~o of Paulin s4 mountain~ home. Tbn pgain, a number of mysterious sranger men who liad bad looke, freguently won ed tlioir way to thme caliin'and ide beeqtiently. seon in the cjnisf of XAin66m the rgbuntahls. is is o~ywab nnkneWn, oxcep$ 'that It was n&alyup$6 e'd he nas A 'Gerthap by brth and had not been' attracted'td the ~iritifns by a desire.to load the-life ofs a hermit. lie f.md 60e vieible rued of an Suspicion rested upon him whenever any of the farmers were robbed In the valley be low. Stores, dwellings offices, burns, smoke-hous(s, cellars, railroad stations and chicken coops were marauded night after night all along that section bordering on the Blue Mountains, and it was generally supposed that Paulin with a number of professional tramp thieves was at the bot tom of all the mischief. Near to the cabin of Paulin was another cabin, occupied by the Strausser family. Thoy are a rudeandt coarse backwoods )Cp , and l'aulil found use for them in mna y ways, such as washing his clothes, recei, ng stolen goods and hiding his ill-gotten iHns un: il such a time would arrive as lie could safely dis pose of them. Finally the thieving opera tions became so frequent that the farmers of Windsor and Upper Bern townships united to put i stop to it. Constable Sheldy and. a possec of men shadowed the cabin of Paulin and by the merest accident discov cred a splendid lap blanket that bad been atolen front William Reno. Soon after this Joel Mengle, another farmer, shot at a burglar, and Mathias Keiser (who was one of Paulin's dissatisfied cnompanions) testified that Paulin had acknowledged that he was very nearly killed by that shot. Keiser took the standand swore that Paulin had comiutled a number of roberries at the farms of George Sunday, April 12; WiL liam Sheip, May 24; George Reigel, Feb ruary 11, and others, at least a dozen in all. Paulin was found guilty. lIe was then put on trial with Herman Sirausser, Isabella Strausser and David Strusser, on the charge of having committed other rob beries among i he rich farmers and business inen of Northern Berke and the southern section of Sehuylkill counties. Tle oper ations of this band of thieves also extend ed over into Lehigh county. The gang of tramp robbers recently arrested and con victed in Berks county are all more or less acquainted with Paulin, with whom they worked very frequently. During the severe weather of winter, when the robbers de sired to get out of the sight of civilization after the perpetration of some crime, they went to Paulin's home and there passed the time in the most convivial manner imaginable. Tney had plenty of money and employed the Straussers in various ways. The robbers had rum and pipes, chickens and beef, and lived on 'the fat ot the land," in their own rude way. In this manner they would spend many days together, plan robberies and then go out on dark nrghts and execute them. Death Dor. Two hundred and fifty miles north of Chicago, on the west shome of Lake Michigan, a peninsula projects from the main land (Wissonsin) Into the iake in a northeasterly direction. Beyond and in the same direction, is a chain of small is lands extending nearly to the disjointed portion of the State of Michigan. These Islands and the peninsula form Green bay, which is the highway by which most of the great lumber and ore products of Wiscon sin ind thoir way In m1arket. Between these Islands are several navigaule entrances to the Bay, but the one most, traveled is the south entrance, known as Death Door. About the time of the first settlement of the country by the French, nearly the whole tribe of lPottawatomie Indians were drowned while attempting to cross this passage, and the French called it Port du Mort. A small island at the entranee to the door, on which is a light house and fog signal, is officially known by this name, though among sailors and fishermen It is called Pilot Island. It contains less than flive acres, and for nine months of the twelve is the home of the light keeper his family and two assistants. North of Door Bluff-the name of the northern extremi ty or cape of the peninsula-two miles is Plum Island, containing probably two square miles. It Is uninhabited and cov ered with a heavy growth of pine and cedar. This is the condition of all the country in this vicinity, the few inhabi tants depending almost entirely upon fish lag for support. Four mnilea east of Door Bluff is Poet du Mort, which is two miles wvest of the south point of Detroit Island. All this coast Is lime stone, and the chan nels betwveen the islands and at the en trances to the bays are full of. reefs of the same stone, and to add to .the danger of navigation there is most of .the time a strong current flowing sometines one way and sometimes another, so strong at times as to make a boat unmanageable. rrofltable PInheu. There some difficulty in stocking a stagnant p~ond with good kinds of fish. One' cannot have the choicest without the very best conditions for their cultnre. Trout. require cool spring wvater, and it should be a fiowlng stream unless there are abundant springs at the bottom of the pond, spring inr from the gravel beds. Black bass is thi, next best fish to trout, and may be kept In a pond if there is an ample supply of fresh water and foodl The yellow p~erch comes next, and thIs wiji thrive where bass will not; a pond wIth muddy bottom, if It, is planted with aquatic veg etation, will provide a comfortable home for this variety, Thon come sun-fish and eat-fish. It is well to put in some cat-fish and let them propagate andi increase for a time; then add some yellow perch which would live on the cat-fish and Increase as these diminished until they took possession of the pond. It would' then be necessary to provide some food, if a large sto~k was deeired. Cat-flsh can be easily caught with a hook, put into a tub of water and transported to ei pp d for a long distance. Yellow perch. c6iid b 'ocuged' 'In same Way, A fe*. dozhne a. d stocksapond of hdmi a.,''cr6.- n hire 'put 1if6to. pdn&t ovuld *efl 'to transplant s6thie watr plants by ki*tip roots of watct' lilies, ete,, maiking*el of miud about them arid proIigtheo the water here and the Be~sist the temptation at: circulating, ill reports; .sprea4 them apt, at , sll, f you 'cannot speak well of another, at least do not speak ill of .him.. fever spa 19 of ahothgabhhind his back. Wb aird you consider his charaaeter of 1,ea . Que than yot own. , ' ok of 6thers tt were they) 9,b~ ad' hi)' Consd# yorirdeif tl~ eMIh6beih acM~f t6s' e rho o would i+sh'othi's to grirdo )eeo lb your absenee." Whofi ViWi~~b needed to nention-abh h t^ the shad A Rouinantic Ituner. lie rambled into the restaurant with a smi1le on his face, which seeled to indicate to the crowd that his soul was made of the perfuie of roses, and that his nature was soft aind sweet as June sunshine. The waiter walked up to bin after ie was Seated and said: "'What'll ye have, sah?" "Give ine a sea-lion cutlet rare, and plenty of gravy.' ''We don't keep dei, sal." "'Then I'll take soie nightingale soup, but be sure there are no feathers in it." "Did you say clam soup?" inquired the waiter rather awkwardly. "No sir, 1 did not," responded the other with warmth: "I ordered nightingale soup sansailes." "Don't keep it." Illave you any reindeer jelly?" "No sal." "I should very much like soens girafle stew." "We ain't got n1one."1 "Well, you ngy !'' a:ig me soine lizard fritters." "Dey ain't down on de bill." "What kind of a place Is this, anyway. You don't keel) any of the delicacies of the season. I'm tin operatic composer, 1 atim, and cannot eat any of your ordinary stuff." Tie waiter then puxhed the bill before hin and lie said: "You haven't even gold-fiuh omelettes, Dh?" "'NO sahl)." "Well, then, bring ime a plate of pork ,r.id beans forsatisfaction.' The beaus were brought for hih, 'and a mioiment after lie cotmeticed to devour themu, lie called the waiter and inquired: "Will you bring me an extra napkin?" The napkin was brought anel he had not naten uore than two mout.hfuls before he ::alled the attendant back and , arrolled: "I am really sorry to disturb you, but will you go over to the window and see if it looks like ralin?" The waiter did as requested and lie no inore than got back than the guest in :1tiirc(: "Won't you please hang a table-cloth Around imy neck; and allow it to meander .lown the back of the chair, it always makes beans taste better to me." "I can't do dat, sah " "Then I must. reque.st you to stop that bird singing. I can never enjoy a meal while a canary bird is singing his stereo typed melody around." "I can't stop the bird." "Than I'll stop eating. I'll take these Ieans along with me in th1i paper bag, and eat them down in the City Ilall Park where Iliere are no birds to bother me." lie then bagged the beans and went. sol anlily On his wily. Color anct Cont.raets. If we combine two primiary colors, say bluc and yellow, in order to make a sec ndary rmnlor which in this case will be Kreen, tius adconmuty w ..mu -4... .. naximumn of intensity when it is placed be 1ide its coiplementary red. In the same way orange will be intensified by blue, and vioiot by yellow. On the other hand, red )laced beside green will seem more red, wango will intensify, violet will make yel ow more brilliant. If, however, we take liese very colors which intensify each other by juxtaposition, and mix them together, hey will be entirely destroyed. If we take red and green of the same intensity and nix then together in equal proportions, we wvill obtain a pure colorless gray; the same with blue and orange and with violot and yellow. This phenomenon is called achro natism. Achromatism Is also produced by fnixing the three primary colors in equal proportions. Sulphur, campanulat and c.apsiclne mixed equlally will destroy each other and produce a colorless gray. If, however, we put sulphur beside garnet, which in the rose is exactly opposite to It, these two tints being complemnenttary will utct on each other, and will mutually heigh ten each other's color. Chevereal says that when we mako a stroke on a canvas with brush full of color, we do not merely tint with this color all the part touched with a the brush, but the surrounding space also is tinted by the complementary coloi'; so a red circle if surrounded by a blue halo, a yellow by a violet one, and the reverse. When two different colors are juxtaposed they receive," says Owen Jones, "a double modification, first as to their tone, the light colot- appearing lighter and the dark darker. Secoondly, as to their tint, each will become tinged with the conmplemnentary of the Anl Old Story Re-told. Vice-Admiral Lord Nelson was a great sea captain if ever one lived. When, on the 15th of September. 1805, lie hoisted his flag on board the Victory, and arrived oft Cadiz on his birthday to take command of the liediterranean fleet. he meant fighting. Thero was no suspicion of hesi tation in his tactics. The force under him consisted of twenty-seven sail of the line and four frigates, which he withdrew from the vicinity of Cadlz to a station aixteen or eighteen leagues to thle westward, "In the hope of inducing the enemy to put to sea." These were the days of dash and manhood, and great nmst have been Nelson's exulta tion when, on t~he ziorning of; October the 21st, jumst,qi, daybreak', the combined French an4 @3paulsh .hetp, consistinjg ,of thirty three salt 'of t.ollne and seven frigates,. were seen ahead, to 1eeward twelve miles. The Admiral lost no time, for before twelve the MIrtishi fleet was bearing down on the crescent shaped position of the enemy, and then it was that Nelson hoisted the signal, "England expects that every man will do his duty." Them only fear was that the cenmy miight ,rvp for 'refuige, therefore 'Nelson notifled t~ oIhingwood, "1 intend to pass through ..i van of the enemy's 1me1 'to pr a~tt, 1 from getting Into Cadis." '1here was an affectionate anxiety aboiut the impetuosityr and determination of the commander, go Captain Blanewood pro. posed that the F'em'eralre shioulid go ahead of the Victory, In ease that vessel might draw the principal attention of the enemy's fire. '"O I yes, let her go ahxend," replied Nelson ; but at tlze' samje time he had clearyfpointeptioP of.Allowin~ any .stich thhi, fr h 14not permit an igen of canyas t be' tken Ih, and the Vi o'y~ - tinu to lead the' olhi .9oql u e re.4I W~' ng po, ~~ thde d vi. ite it is 't I e I 'found lingwood to Captain Rotheram, and at th< anie instant, without a spark of jcalous) at the enviable position of his friend, Nelson observed, "See how nobly Colling. wood carries his ship into action." But at twenty minutes past noon thC Victory was in the thick of the fight. Scarcely a minute after the ship gol within range, seven or eight ships opened a terrible and destructive fire upon her. Thc Admiral's secretary, MNr. Scott, was shot dead, and soon the mizzen topmast of the Victory was carried away, and also het wheel, necessitating the process of steering by the relieving tackles below. Yet nc hail of fire destroyed the dauntless and (logged courage of Nelson and his sea-dogs. When a splinter from the fore brace bits passed between Nelson and Hardy, and tore away the buckle from the shoe of the latter, the Admiral only smiled and said: "This is too warm work to last long, IIardy !" Still, warm as it was, the Eng lish Admiral was determined to make it hotter. The Victory's sails were hanging in ribbons; she had lost full fifty men killed and wounded ; but soon It was her turn to begin. Determined to pass under the stern of the Bucentaure as the only mode of breaking the line, the Victory's lieln was put hard aport, and there was scarcely space for her to go clear. Sailing close to the larboard side of the lucen taure, the Victory poured in such a well directed and tremendous broadside that the French ship heeled two or three streaks on receiving it. All this time Nelson was pacing the quarter deck with Hardy, their walk being bounded aft by the wheel, and forward by the companion ladder. The distance was 0ny. about twenty-five feet, and it was here, when the Rledoulubtable brought up, that the fatal bullet struck Nelson. lie fell on his knees just where 31r. Scott had fallen, and said, "They have done for ine at inst, lardy ; my back bome is shot through." The victory was all but g:ined when Nelson was compelled to go below. In that dreadful moment he thought of his nen, and caused his face and his scars to be covered by his handker chief, in order that lie might pass unnoticed by the crew. A Gir'l Deer Stalker. The modern Diama is a 31ies Clark Ilendershot---an appropriate nme-daugh ter of Thomas Hlendershot, who lives in a log cabin flve miles back of Shohola, Pike eouity, Pit. She is eighteen years of age, can row a boat, shcot a gun, or trap a hear as well as any man in the country. The other (lay she started to row across a lakv in a light boat, taking a gun with her. Midway of the lake she discovered a black (leer that had been driven to the water by dogs. Taking aim she fired, Inflicting a wound in the deer's neck. The anunal, enraged, struck at the boat with its front foot, completely shaltering one side of the fragile bark, which sunk leaving Miss IHendershot in the water with the infuri ated buck. She was plucky and could swmn well, and as the deer came toward InIt tm e instantl3. She then called for help, and as none arrived she swanm to tie shore, about a quarter of a mile and hurtied home. She put on dry clothes and procuring another boat, rowed out where the dead buck was floating and towed it to the shore. When dresssed the animal weighed nearly 280 potds. This is the seventh deer Miss Hendershot has killed, and she feels quite proud of her last adventure as she hab a right to. "ihat Was, My Pot You Tuki" Father Scully was chaplain of the Ninth Massachusetts regiment during the war, and as such, was zealous for the moral wel fare of the men under his care. IIe was specially opposed to gambling, an~d never hesitated about acting vigorously whenever occasion required. One day htalf a dozen of the oficers were havitng a little game of poker, and as the "pot" amoumntedl to $9.75, there wvas great exitement as to who should beI thie winnter. Just as the question was decided, Father Scully sprang in ut~der the ten~t fitap, grabbeLd the stakes and put thenm in his breast pocket, with the remark, "There it is, and there it will stay!" No re mionstanice was offered, an~d lie walked -off with the counscated currency. In a little while pay (lay Catre round and the usual collection was taken up for the chaplain. Father Scully was soon informeod of the amioun~t, and sat in his teat waiting to be brought to him. In a short time t'.e oilcer who ha I takeni the collection-and lie was one who had been disturbed at the little game a few days before-approached with the m)oney, whieh he handedl over. Thme chaplain counted it, and thon turned sharp ly to the messengets with the question: "Where's the other $0.75?" The officer had been waititig for this moment of tri umph, and, drawing himself up he slapped his hantd on the breast of lis coat and ans weredi: "There it is, and there It'll stay : that was my pot you tuk." And it did stay there. . Hi Sweet, Way. "I like a shoemaker's shop," lie said, "with the awls of all sizes, and the smell of new leather. There is no tune played like that played by a htammer on a lap stone. It is the drum beat of diligence. And ah I that lap-stone, licked into shapes and comeliness by the old sea, -as a she bear licks her cubs. By the way, merry cobbler, hare you a pair of uncalled-for boots that would fit me 1" I happened to have a nice-pair of .his pize, gpr, ho triad thorm on "Elegant I'" he exclaimed4; "my foots rests on thieni as easily as a b~aby in a cradle, flow remarkablei I believe that these boots were destined for me. 'There ts a destiny that shapes our ends,' ete,; you know the rest, cobbler,. I guess,, on the whole, I will take those boots and leave mgv present old ones for-permanent repairs. '"And if you believe me, he somehow or other got away with the bran. new hoots," said the cobbler, and heft a pair of wretched, -old, worn-our brogans." "Woll, how, was it," we asked, "that you alwed hbin to come it over you sot "1e annot say," replied the cob lor; '"h kept ftlking in such a. ,Wet sugary ,Wa all about the anptentshpo krq, yn aq le gotte the dooy Ibe,eja pd hi laa 4. t9 li foreheadand dnete that thoere was nlort ?corrtption onj)ae1 judicial bencha than ot tirehema er' e h nd h was out withwa afghpa S u 9 Mammoth Men. Profane histor ans mention giants; they, gave seven feet of height to iiercules, the' first hero, and in our day we have seen men eight feet high. The giant who was shown in Rouen in 1835 measured eight feet some inches. The Emperor Maximin wasi of that size; Shenkins and Ploterus physicians of that stature, and Goroplus saw a girt who was ten feet high. The body of Or ostes, according to the Greeks, was eleven and a half feet. The giant Calabro, brought from Arabia to itome, under Claudius Ciesar, was nearly ten feet, and the bones of Secondilla and Puflo. keepers of the gardens of Sallust, were but six Inches shorter. Farnuin, a Scotchman, who lived at the time of Eugene the Second, King of Scotland, measured eleven and a half feet; and Jacob Maire, In his voyage to the Straits of Magellan, reports that on the 17th day of December, 1615, they found at Port De sire several graves covered with stones, and havhag the curiosty to remove the stones they found human skeletons ten feet long, and some eleven feet. The Chevaller Scory, in his voyage to the Peak of Teneriffe, says they found in one of the sepulchral caverns of that mountain, the head of a Gaunche which had eighty teeth, and that the body was not less than fifteen feet long. The glaut Ferragus, who was slain by Orlando, nephew of Charlemange, was eighteen feet high. Itioland, a cele brated anatonist, who wrote in 1614, says that some years before there was to be seen in the suburbs of St. German the tomb of the giant Isoret, who was twenty feet high. January 11, 1813, masone digging near the ruins of a castle in Dauphine in a field which by tradition had long been called the Giants's flehi, at tie depth of eighteen feet, discovered a brick tomb thirty feet long, I welve feet wide and eight high, on which was a gray stone with the words "Theuto. bochus Rex" Engraved thereon. When the tomb was opened they found a human skeleton entire, twenty six and a quarter feet. high, eighteen feet around across the shoulders and five feet deep from the breast bone to the back. His feet were about the size of an ox's foot, and his shin-bone meas ured four feet. Near Mezarina, in Sicily, 1515, was found a giant thirty feet high. Ills head was the size of a hogshead (?) and each of his teeth weighed five ounces. Near Palermo, In the valley of idazaro, in Sicily, a skeleton of a giant thirty feet long was found it the year 1518, and another thirty-three feet high in 1550; and many curious persons have pre served several of these gigantic bones. The Athenians found near their city two famous Akeletons, one thirty-four and the other thirty-six feet high. At Totu, in Bohemia, in 1758, was found a skeleton the head of which could scarcely be encompassed by the arns of two men together, and whose leg, which they still keep in the castle of that city, were twenty-six feet long. The skull of the giant found in Macedonia, September, 1691, held two hundred and ten pounds of corn. The c-lebrated Sir Hans Sloane, who treated this matter very learnedly, does not double these facts, but thinks the 4112ninrna. onnlhn eI.Whnks other~ enor1us1 iinftls. imnt a dMeniMnR-- - bones may be shown for those of giants, but they can never impose on connoisseurs. Whales, which by their Immense bulk are more properly to be substituted for the largest giants, have neither arms or legs; and the head of thit animal has not the least resemblance to that of a man. If It be true, therefore, that a great number of gigantic bones which have been mentioned have been seen by anatomists, and have' by then been reputed real human bones, the existanec of giants is proved. Tho Diamond NeokIace. The chief actor in this affair was Iamotte Valos, a French adventuress, who died in London in 1791 at the age of thirty-five. She was born in Champagne, where, after marrying a Count de Lanmotte, who was a spendrift,she wvent to Paris, and succeeded in being introduced to Mario Antoinette, who took some interest in her, and to Card inal de liolhan, grand ahnoner to the king. She persuadled time latter that she could con ciliate for him time affection of the queen, who, she told him, was desjrous of getting a magnificent diamond necklace then in the hands of tihe court jewellers, which 'was worth about 1,600,000f. She induced a Mile. D'OhIva, whio resembled Marie Antoin ette, to personate tier at a midinight inter view with Rtohan in the gardens of Ver sailles. With the real signature of Rohan and a forged one of the queen, the countess got possession of the necklaco(Feb. 2, 1786), which Bile sold In London, but pretended that she haid delivered it to the queen, and for several months concealed thme robbery by producing forged-notes, apparently written by time latter, Finally, a direct application of the jewellers to her majesty awoke suspi cion, which resulted in a public trial before, time Parliament. All France was excited over the affair. Thme cardinal was discharg ed from all accusation, while the couintems was sentenced to be whipped, branded on the shoulder and imprisoned for life. After being incarcerated about two years at the Balpetriere, she escaped June 5, 1787, and fled to London, where' she publhished libels against the queen. Her husband'sdr-vived tier, and twice wrote a complete history of the affair; thme first manmiscript was taken from him by the French police; the second was mutilated in Its proQSt important parts. Cenetderhes a Paris. Paris contains ten cemeteries within the? walls and two outside,. the former beng, generally reserved for each dilRerent dv-n, slop of the city; that of Montmartre frti first, second, egth, ninth aned tenth ad' ; dissemnent s; Pre Lachaise - or 'the talrdj" fourth, eleventh,. twelfth and 'twentieth ; Montparnasse for thoffth, ti eeth, thirteenth and fourteenth~1sipl~ Sgr the seventeentli; lifarcad* i' or the eighteenth ;-La Villote!X 'tLe nine teenth ; those# of Urenelle' *'Vugirard for the fifteenth ; and) those o~ass and. 'Auteul~ for the sigteth, p 1861, Bareh 'Iaussman once of the6 anstalid of th-udbu i munes, Iasued a doee" olOednk All 'h b!e..ceneetele. exceptnig for jatuior uk~ure posseeors of pypenQpafl , oundrr . e, d ctieeilop te ths f ShtOt osi