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RI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., OCTOBER 12, 1880. VOL. IV.-NO 123 1 WET WINa The barley bows from the west t Before the dellate breese That many a sail caressed As it swept the sapphire seas. It has found the garden sweet, And the poppy's cup it sways, t And the golden ears of wheat ; t And its dreamy toueh is lays On the heavy mignonette, And it steals its odors fino On the pansies dewy yet, On the phloxes red as wine. Where the honeysuckle bright Storms the sunny porch with flowQge Like a t*mpest of delight, . Shaking fragrance down in showers, It touches with airy grace Each clustering perfumed spray, I Clasps all in a light embrace, And silently wanders away. Come forth in the air divine, Thou dearest, my crown of bliess I Give that flower-sweet obeek of thin* To the morning breeze to kiss. Add but thy perfect presence I To gladden my happy eycs And I would not change earth's morning For the dawn of Paradise ! A Mother's Sacrilco A fire burned in the lower grate, but the little light it gave revealed all the grace of Mrs. Winfield's slight form In its close-fit ting robes of black. To-night, for the first time in her two years of widowhood, she laid off the widow's cap, which had for so long served to conceal the thick auburn braids, so artistically coiled about the small head. Perhaps for the same reason she had dismissed the butler, when he entered according to custom to light the lamps, or perhaps because the slow ticking of the clock upon the mantel revealed to her sufficiently the lapse of time without compelling her to distinguish the hands upon the face of the dial drawing nearer and nearer the hour whose close approach dissipated the calm ness she vainly strove to.gain. Eighteen years had passed since she and Arthur Mainwaring had met. They had been lovers in that far-off time, but he was poor then, with no wiusper in the air of the rich inheritance to Which he afterwards fell heir, just too late to bring happiness to either. Not that they cared for wealth. either of them, but there were elder, wiser mihde to judge for both, and so, each vow ing eternal vows, they were torn apart. Six short months later she married Ed. ward Winfield. He was, fortunately, not a mhan to look for love and sentiment in his young wife-only wifely duty and obe dience. In these she never failed hum, and after his death the world found proof of his esteem in the fact that to his widow revert ed all his fortune, untramrmeled by a single reservation. She had married very young. She was but thirty-five now. Would he find her changed, she wondered-he for whose com ing she waited here to-night?' Simultaneously with the thought came the sound of carriage wheels and horses' hoofs b on the graveled walk. She started to her t feet, pressing both hands upon her fast beating heart. Only tiat morning she had received a telegram announcing Arthur 8 Mainwaring's coming, and already he was here. She was glad, Oh, so glad, that the room was dark, when she heard the quick, firm tread she had sometimes heard in her t dreams during these long years of dutiful 1 living; so glad that he could not aee the a quick blush, which put her matronhood to shame, when the door was thrown open, a anc three or four swift strides brought him to her side. "Barbara !" r Oh, how his voice still thrilled in her half with pleasure, halt with pain I His tall form towered far above her, as in the olden time ; but he held close in his ~ own firm, tender grasp her two little tremb ling hands.b "Are you glad to see me?" he questiom ed. She strove to answer, but her lips quiv- c ered, and no words came. "Barbara," lhe said then again and he h bowed his handsome head lower, "is it too g) soon to speak ?" "Oh, Arthur," she answered, "can I yet atone?" And then the bridge of years was swept away, and eho sobbed out her happiness e upon his heart. "Let me see you," he said at last.' "I h have not yet een the face for which I have ~ hungered all these years." 1 He struck a light, then turned and looked at her. "My darling 1" he said. "It is still my I: beautiful Barbara. 'What have I done to deserve thia hour?". "Mamma, where are you ?" called out a fresh, girlish voice at this mnstant. The next monlent a young girl of scarce seventeen summer sprang into the room. "This is my daughter, Arthur-my only child. Dora, let m'e present you to one of your mother's old!est friends." The gentleman indicated looked from one to the other-fromn the mother to the daughter-then back agali. Now he could realize the lspse of time-now he could ap preciate the changes years, had wrought. b it was as though he had brought the past and present face to face forcing him to ac knowiedge the Impossibility of nature's standing still.. The daughter was a failr counterpart of the mother's beauty. Au she looked nowr, ~ shyly extending to him hqr .hend,'as if in deprecation of her unceremonious, entrance so had Barbara looked, whe(i e~vtending her hand in farewell, as though she would have . said, "I am forced into it by a stronger will than mine." An uncomfortable sensation rote up in ' his breast-a dumb warring against the in evitable-an acknowledged desire to re trace life's pathway and conquer- t'ne. Meantime the young girl pouted thie full, red lips, aisif she thought her mother's friend strangeliy absent; and' *hen - he at, last d forced himself into ae few werds of 'greet ing, they tell upon dull, unheedIng oars. Then she had gone. The lovers were alone again, but ho no longer opened wide . his arms but instead, drew a chair to her side that they might discuss more rational- ~ ly. "You must teach Dora to love you," she U said to him next morning. "I want first ~ to reconcile her to my aecond marriage be fore startling her with its probability. Tell 0 pie, do yott thInk her like me" f. : * ** Equipped 9or a Reindeer Ride. At the appointed hour our wapooeas (as the Lapp guides are called) arrived with their reindeer, and after geting Karl (the good wife) to stuff our reindeer-skin boots -well with a sort of dried grass called eenne, we donned our traveling costumes, which I must describe. You keep on your ordi nary, habit.atid over that you generally put a thick woollen Jersey or blhetiand jacket. You next put on a pair of small skin boots, and cover these again with huge Wellingtons, also of reindeer skin, reaching far above the knee. These being properly tied and fastened, you attire yourself in in the chief garment of the whole, which is the blouse or peek. This is open only at the foot and neck, and has a very high collar. On getting into it you must, of course, creep from below, which is de cidedly an; uncomfortable and dilficult operation when you are not acustomed to it, and 1, for my part, would never have succeeded in getilng through, had not some one come to my assistance, and discovered that the neck was as yet tied, thus effect ually hindering all my desperate attempts to emerge Into the open air again. On es caping from my temporary confinement, I I had next to allow a curious shaped bon net or hat of cloth,fillied with ellder-down, to be put upon my head, bnd after this it only wanted the reindeer-skin gauntlets to completely transform me into an abori gine of the country. As a reserve we were also provided with a tippet or collar of bear-skin, which, however, would only be of service in case a storm or snow fog should arise. Nor did we omit to take with us a good-sized flask of cognac, and also a pair of blue spectacles-these latter for the purpose of preserving our eyes from the glare of the snow. As. may be imag ined, it is exceedingly diflicult to move about freely In this voluminous costume; and it was with a feeling of relief that we heard the wapooses give the word to take our places in our boat-shaped sleighs, called poolke. To a stranger these poolke at hirst sight seemed awkward conveyances. They are constructed without runners, and have a keel from 8 to 5 inches wide and I* inch high. Made entirely of wood, pointed in front, and gradually becoming broader behind, they are very light and easily drawn. For one who never set in them before it is almost impossible to pre serve equilibrium; and the arms have con stant employment to keep one from upset ting. M Regnard, who traveled in Lap land toward the end of the seventeenth century, says: "A Lap sledge is etlled a poolk, and is elevated in front to keep out the snow. The prow consists of one plank, and the body is composed of several pieces sewed together with strong reindeer-sinews, and without a single nail. This Is joined to another piece about four fingers broad, which goes beyond the rest of the struc ture, and is like the keel of a ship, It is on this that the sledge runs, and from its narrowness constantly rolls from side to side. The traveller sits innide as in a cof fin, with the lower part of his body cov ered, and being firmly tied there, with only his hands free, in order to hold the rein. He must balance himself very careflnily lest he should be killed, as the sledge descends the steepest hills with horrible swiftness." Though the traveller makes some mistake with regard to being tied up in the sledge, he is quite correct in the latter part of the quotations, as I soon found before I had proceeded many miles. What Rattlesnakes are Good ior. It may not be generally known to our readers that snake poison is used for medi cinal purposes in these day s, and a firm in Liverpool recently imported a pumber of rattlesnakes, and abstracted the venom from the live sDimals in the following in genious manner: The reptiles were in separate compartments of a case fitted with a thick India rubber. noose at one end, which could be loosened or tightened by the hand at pleasure. This was inserted through the partially opened lid, and the opportuity quickly seized by slipping the noose over the snake's head, the loop being immiediately drawn tight by means of the cord thereto. With 'a similar contrivance the tall was newt fastened ; the shake beinig securely hold, was lifted out of the box to the floor of tne room. A pIckle-bottle con taining chloroform was then thrust over the snake's head, and carefully held in its place by keeping time with the animals efforts to extricate itself. As the reptile became stupifled, the noose was graduially relaxed to enable the. lungs to have full play, and when it appeared powerless the snake was laid in a narrow box, made -for this pur pose, with an aperture atone end, in which its head was fixed while the after operation was performed. Its jaws were then opened and fixed, and the poison glands wore pressed open with forceps and the gloved linger and thumb, while a small, graduated vial was lheld to rebelve thfe drops as they o(ozed slowly out thuuh the poisen fang. Twenty drops was the average qluantity yieldled frora each snake. The venom is of a straw color, thiek and gumm3 in con sistency, and deeldedly acid in its reaction on litmus paper. It is readily soluble In glycerine or water. Its toxicological prop erticswere fully tried on avariety of animals. Uiaf a drop produced death 'on a 1linnet within -three minutes after being injected under the wing. The symtoms produced in all cases are very similar. ECmpeotlnar Bad News. A boy apparently very much agitated. rushed into a house end said to thL lady: "I don't want ter alarm ycr, but I've got big pews. The man sept me up frm the livery stable to tell ycr." "Good heavehsi What is it?" "Why, you know-your little boy Aleck, what the man can't keep outen the livery 'stable 'round the the co:4er? " "Yes, well?" "I told Aleck just now not to go' Inter the stable among the horses, but he would not mind me." 'Oh deari what has happened?" "lie said he wanted to see what a mule 'ud do when yer tIckled ite heels with a straw." "Oh, heavensi". gasped the lady, and clung to the mantle for support. 'Well, ma'amyecr boy Aleek got a straw and snud4-up' behin'a dorrelinute, tickied ,him on the heel hn' *Thie lady started f* the 'door. "An'. the blame critter never lifted a hoof" called the boy~ "never so much as switched his taill a a mighty good thing for Aleok that he didn't, to0,an' I-thought I'd com~e up and tell yar" "Your second self." "Ah, Im so glad! You will love her hen for my sake 1' To love and be loved. O'er easy task et by frail woman in her blindness. It aust be Mr. Mainwaring who must be )ori's coispanion in her daily ridq; Mr. lainwaring wlpo mpst teach herito anage' he cockle- boat-for which he had 'sent to own-in these first early spring days. The overs were seldom alone now. Dora looked upon.the4 guests as her pro oerty. She had lonk at> laughingly told dim how unceremonious had been his wel ome to her, and he had wooed and won kls absolution. - Soinetimes Barbara sighed as she watched hem together, while she sat alone, but she ave to the sigh no name, and thought it a ribute to the vanished years. One day came her awakening. Dora and dr. Manwaring had gone for their after icon ride, but it had extended beyond its vont, and she had growla anxious and gone out to meet them, striking the forest path rhich was their favorite way. Half a nile froia.her home she met Dora's horse, iderless. Pale with terror, she hastened >n, when she suddenly stopped, rooted to he spot. Almost at her feet knelt the man ier heart had loved always, and in his arms ie held Dora's unconscious term. "My lovel my life!" he said, each word eing borne distinctly to her esi; "speak to ne once-just once I Oh, Dora are -you murt? My darling, would that I might Lave given my life for yours!" Then he stooped and pressed his lips to ters. A long fluttering sigh escaped hem. "Arthur!" she whispered; "Arthur!" "I am here, dear," he said. And then he laid -her down out of his rms, though, with returning life, he re nembered the duty it brought with it. The mother sprang forward. "Do not be alarmed," Mr. Slamwaring aid, gently, on seeing her. "Her horse hrew her. I think there is no serious in ury. No serious injury I None to Dora, but larbara knew that her wound was beyond lealing. When, a few hours later, they knew that here was no need for anxiety on her ac *ount, Barbara shut herself up within her wn room to fight her battle. "I cannot give him up," she moaned, 'He does not know his own heart. He vill forget this child, and she-she certain y cannot love him." But even as she reasoned came the re aembrance of the one word, "Arthur!" ad the tone in which she had spoken It. "I will try her," she said, and for ths rt time in her life came a feeling of bitter esentment even against her child. They were sitting together ia the library a she entered. "Arthur," she said, "I think it is time hat we told Dora the truth." The man's face paled. She could almost ea his soul preparing for the conflict, and to rush out his heart behind his honor. Even )ora looked up with a suspicion of coming rouble. "It is only this, dear," Barbalt said, urning to her daukhter; "has not Mr. fainwaring told you that he was an en aged man ?" Then slle saw that the steel had struc ome. The child answered nothing as she urned two wet, reproachful eyes to him, rho dared not meet their gaze. Until this astant she had not known that she pos eased a heart. b3he learned it now to her ruel cost. "1 must congratulate Mr. Mainwaring," he said, calling up all her woman's pride D her aid, then hastened from the room to ide the burst of tears. The two wure left lone. "Does she suspect, do you think I" she sked gloating over his torture. "She must know," he answered. "I am eady, Barbara, to fulfil my bond. Let lore be no further delay." "Will you not, then, plead that I ask ed nly the pound of flesh, without a drop of lood, and that your life must pay the for sit I demand ?" "What can you mean ?" he asked in a ewildered way. "Only," she said, "that I plead my cause r yours. Release me, Arthur. I find I annot marry you." Five minutes ago she would have thought erself incapable of the sacrifice ; yet here de stood, quiet and calm, giving no out 'ard sign of the inward whirlpool, nor the )rture that wrung her as she watched the reight lift from his soul at her wor ds. "You no longer love me ?" he question "I am growing old" with a mocking g~h ; and in his blindne'ss lie accepted her rords as denial, and went forth content, ttle dreaming of the sacrifice the mother ad made for her daughter's happiness. A little later he came to her, Dora blush ig, radiant with happiness, byr his side. "Will you give her to me," 'hle asked. 'I loved, her, Biarbara,; because she was our second self!I". "Well, sogny w~ose pig are'thoset" "Old sow's, sir!" "Whose sow is it?" "Old man's, sir'." ad ask the old woman."' "Never nd sendiy1I want a smart oy; whatdaiyou do? ' "Oh!i I can do more than considerable. can milk the geese, zide the tui-keyh tod rater, hamstring theo graso-homppers, ligh~t res for fies to court by, cut buttons off ad's coat when ho is at prayer, keep tally yrddad ie hey scold at a ar-dp ialasahead." "Got any brother?" "Lots of 'em,all named Bill except Bob, is names's Sam-my names's Larry, b~ut icy calil me Lazy Lawrence, for short ess." "Well, you're most too smart for me.". "Travel on old stick in the mud, I meu't hire yufor a boss to-day. Ladhies are noa enutled to bare arms rhen they have to load thenm with pow er.- - Like cures like. To guard against No rays of the sun we raise an um relia. Why is a Women with a long dress a ayant ? "Bebaid e side' hisgdio visible ieans of support. . There is something *ropig ini a man's. pper story when he kilowa himself to o kioked into the celil. A married thian Is like a 'candle be ause sometnmes he goes out in the ight when he ought not to. Herwing-Flshing at Lewie, England As the day wears on, the multitude of boats make sail, and leave the harbor In magnificent and picurgsque contusion; id the evening glow of the setting sun lights up and glids the dark-lailed lugeers of .he west, and the yellow,' white-canvassed, half-decked boats from the east coast, us, guided by the signs they watch for, they gain the herring-ground, and shoot their miles on miles of' nets. With early morning comes their harvest; and then, sometimes gunwale-deep, they crowd all sail, and hasten back,:like swarms of hon. ing pigeons, to the curers, who, ready at all points, wait to turn the work of other men into profit. Measured by the cran-a circular tub holding from 800 to 1,/>00 herring, according to their bulk-the fresh caught fish are sold at prices which vary, like the other barometers of wealth and weather. In the begining of the season ?6 a cran were paid. The day before we came half a crown a cran was taken. And one poor man with 60 crans, coming in too late for market, was told that they were not worth a shilling. But,nothing daunted, he bought some casks and salt, and vowed lie would not throw his fish a way or labor. Let us hope his self-reliance would be re warded. On the other hand by means of bounty and other arrangements each curer secures the service of certain boats, whose catch he takes. A proportion is dispatched at once, quite fresh, in boxes, by one of the small squadron of steamers waiting for hire. Some are cured in a brine and casked, while the rest are gutted, smoked, packed in a box or basket containing fifty, and find their way quickly to our breakfast tables, uaider the deliciously suggestive name of '-kippers." The curers of late have erected a number of buildings where companies of women wait with sharpened knives the coming herrrng. With a slit down the back and a turn of the wrist the fish is spread open and ready for the man who hooks it on a stick containing perhaps a score. These sticks are ranged one above the other in the smoking chambers until their walls are covered with the fish, heads up and insides exposed to the fumes of pungent smoke produced by fragrant chips and saw-dust. For ten hours or so they are thus inclosed. and they are packed and dis patched at once to market. The Russian and North German eat their herrings raw, and being dainty in that matter, take them only when they are In' their prime. But competition has its evils as well as its merits; and it is feared by those who look more ahead than the old-established cus tom that the new system will result in greater harm than is yet forseen by many. The herring are easily frightened; and If they are met so far from the haunts to which they come in countless shoals the Loch Fyne experience may be renewed on an infinitely greater scale, to the ruin, if not starvation, of thousands who depend upon them. Besides, the continental mar ket gets gutted by cheap,inierior early fish; for the herring of May is to that of June and later months as is the ptripling to the alderman. Aunt Jane's Seance. Aunt Jane was very much exercised be cause a new family that had been settled in our neighborhood were "spirituahsts." It was all the more vaxatious to her because she had "neighbored" with them in her single-hearted, motherly way, and when she heard some hints about their "peculiar views" she wouldn't believe them, for she said, "they are real nice folks, and I don't believe one word of it." But the talk about them increased, and then a new actor appeared on the scene. It was a young woman, "a medium," and now the little country village was alive with interest. The girl was watched and commented upon as if she had been an escaped "What-is-it," and the school-chil dren, all who dared, went to and from school that way. Every thing about the plain little white house was so mysterious, although it was like severl dozen other houses in town. If the curtabas happened to be up they wondered why t hey were not dowu, nnd if one of the curtains happened to be down or the blinds to bdi closed, then it was very strange,--although the next door neighbors might have oneor two or three without being particularly noticed. At first Aunt Jane wouldn't believe what she heard, but when she saw they never went to "mcetim'," and took no interest in either of the two churches, she suspected there might be some truth in the gossip, and when she'beard about the "medium" she made up her mind she ,would know whether they were spiritualists or not.., 8o she went over to make a nelghborly after noon call, with her kulttmng-wdfk in a bag on her arm. She was gone a long while ; it was alnost tea-time when she Came home, and when she came she was very silent, we called it cross and wondered what had happened. She solemnly announsed at the tea-tab~e that they were spiritualist., and n~o mistake. It seined that they had been explaining some of their "views" to Aunt Jane and she was a little vexed that she had listened so graciously; her conscience troubled her for not telling them right up and down what she thought of it all. They had given her a very polite invitation to a "seance," which she had emphatically de olined, and now she felt sorry she hadn't accepted it, so that she might know how far they carried their "nonsonoc." She had another opportunity however, a few weeks after,--she was invited again to a "seance," and this time she-accepted. The man of the house, Mr. Wilkins, was away from home, and this :seance was a very private one. There was no one in the room when Aunt Jane went in but Mirs. Wilkins and the "medium," a slight young girl about 10 years old (a niece of Mr. Wilkins), and a boy wbto had lately come to live in the Wilkins family. Boon after Aunt Jane arrived the light was turned cdown to a properly solemin pitch, and they all sat in stately silence. Presently Mirs. Wilkins asked : "Do, you feel anything strange?" "No, said Aunt Jane sharply, "I don't." Presently she noticed thatithe gIrl acted strangely, and she became wholly absorded in watching her. 'She would tub buer hands wildly and jerk from one side of her chair to the other and go through vorious mo tIons which Aunt Jane thought were all done for effect. But as she watched her she grew startled, for the girl seemed in pai and when she finally settled back ur1 ly inT hecar, Aunt Jane sprang up w Trn up that lgb instantly I" The boy instinctively ~ydbut Mrs. Wilkins hurried-up to the table to turn it down again- "Why," aud sh. .I s a trance. In a moment she will begin to talk." "Trance or no trance, said Aunt Jane, "that'v a dreadful sick girl." "I tell you there is nothing the matter with her. She Is a medium, and an un common good one." "I tell ;you that's a dreadful sick girl, and you must bring me some hot water as quick as you can." "I ehall do nothing of the kind. She Is not sick." - "Well," said Aunt Jane, "she is a very sick girl, and you go right down to my I house, James, and bring me a pail of hot water.And some cloths and some mustard r and a bottle of brandy." While James was gone she loosed the girl's cloths and rubbed her hands, which were as cold as.ice, and as soon as James came back she got the girl's feet in warm mustard water and after she had brought her back to consciousness onough'to make her swallow anything, she gave her some brandy, and as soon as possible helped her to bed. When Mrs. Wilkins saw she couldn't help herself she left the room, and Aunt Jane was allowed to perform her mission- I ary work alone. She stayed with the girl all night, and had a talk with her, advising her to go hoime, which she was willing to do. She seemed to be under the control of her uncle while she stayed there, and said she had these attacks every night when he was home. Well, Aunt Jane arranged with her to take one of the afternoon trains if she was able. She sent James after some break fast for herself andbtayedanddressedthegirl and took her home with her to dinner, and went with her to the train and bought the ticket with her own money. And so ended Aunt Jane's first, and so far last, seance. Muntangs in Texas. The word mustang, is a corruption of I mesteno, the Mexican name for a wild horse. Many years ago there were thou- I sands, no doubt millions, of those animals I in Texas. In 1849, and for several years I thereafter, they were numerous In the I region between the Nueces River and the i Rio Grande. They were found further north, but not in such numbers. Immense I herds of wild horses could be seen grazing i on the prairies. When they saw any one t approaching the leader would often move to the front and make a reconnolsance. If I things did not sa it himu he would give his t head a peculiar toss, wheel, and sound the t note of alarm. These demonstrations would I be followed by prompt movement on the I part of the herd, sometimes to the front, I but more usually to the rear. They would v wheel into line, change front, move in line t or in column, with as much precision and order as cavalry. It was wonderful to wit ness how well they were drilled and disci- t plined. In the event a retreat was ordered, the leader would move in the rear awhile. If any laggerd or straggled the.pwere very apt to feel his teeth, if' not his heels. On some occasions a movement to the front I was ordered. It was a charge in line, or in column, proudfly headed by the leader. t This was the case sometimes when mounted men were In sight. The Texas rangers operating in that country wqro followed by pack-mules in charge of a guard. It was necessary at times to form a liollow square, place mules inside, and to throw out skir mishers to fire into the animals. If the leaders could be struck, the charge would be broken. 'rho horses would retire at once. The mustangs were hunted by Mex icans, and fine looking ones singled out and lassoed. Whole herds were ariven at a run into pens having extended wings, 'which contracted as they approached the gate. As many as 500 mustangs have been penned at one "run." They were sold at almost nothing, $6 being a high price for a choice horse. These mustangs were a wild set, often no better than Indians; seine of them were honest, good men. They were guilty of many murders and robberIes. The Co imanchies made many visits to that region. They would pounce upon the mustangers, set thmemn afoot, or kill them, as caprice dic tated. The Coimanchies wanted the inns tangs to ridle and to eat. Horse-flesh is a groat delicacy with them. The choice part is the fat imediately under the name. The section in question wap very hot in those days for Amerieans. A Tlexan was considered a hereditary enemy 'by both mnustangers and Indians. His only protec tion was the rifle and a 82x-shooter, and a horse of strength and bottom. Under tihe Enigiah Channel.. The preliminary excavations for this enterprise are being actIvely pushed for ward at Bangatte, near Calais, at a spot where the cliffs have an altitude of see'en ty feet above the~ level of the sea at high water. A point has been chosen where the rocks of gray chalk which have to be traversed by the tunnel comne to show their heads at the surface of the soil. On the opposite shore similtar borings have been begun, so that the works are proceeding simultaneously.' The soundings that have been made during the last few years dem onstrate that the base of the Channel con slats of a compact mass of chalk, resling on banks of slate. This mass, which Is easy enough to pierce, is said at the same time to resist fltration sufficiently. It would therefore, present a substance excellently adapted for perforation. But what yet re mains to be proved is whether the succes slon of these chalk layers will not disclose seime irregularitieseor ruptures which would render the enterprise impossible. The shaft at Sangatte has now reached a depth of nearly 200 feet, or abot't 130 feet below the level of high water. It has a width of ten feet, is and lined with oak, so that the water cannot penetrate very freely, not more than seventedn gallons a minute. This water is not salt, which is thought to prove that the layers hitherto traversed have their point of contact sufficiently far from the shore to prevent the see from as cending the shaft. it is intended to sink to a depth of 800 feet, and thern a galleryI will be excavated Ia the direction of Eng..4 land. U~p to the present the engineers are I highly satisfied with the results obtained, I as no irregularities have been discoveued, which is considered a guod augury for' the success of the enterprise. It is Impossible, however, to proceed at a quicker rate than twenty inches a day. Nevertheless ia eighteein months or two years enough pro gress will have'been made to srrive at a perfect understanding about the possibility of the undertaking. it Is itated that the work willinot fail through lack of funds. -California expedte to malke 10,000, 000 mallona of wino this yar Danner-GiwSng. As a general rule, we believe that an ap oroaching dinner party is more agreeable e D the hostess than to the host. To a roman there is something pleasant in thte I use which precedes her entertainments. E Ihe is mistress of the occasion, and her rders are Implicitly obeyed. With a man 0 t is different. What amuses his wife fid- t ets him. He Is restless 'and uneasy. Ylhen he goes to his study for a quiet hour i fore dressing, he finds it has been taken r >ossession of by his wife's maid, and con erted into a temporary ladies cloak-room. S )n the very altar stone of his sanctum, 0 Ight in the center of his writing-table, tands a looking-glass. His precious hand- I ooks and dictionaries, his papers, note- I ooks, at cetera, are profanely piled in a orner of the room. Fididing life study a lesecrated, he wanders about the house, a I mirden both to himself and to others. He a in a fidget because his wife has not yet I eturned from her drive, and he fears she I nay be late for dressing. He is himself a iressed far too soon, and finds nothing to Lo in the drawing-room, which is all pre- a oarid in state fcr the reception of guests. t lo employs himself in opening and shut- d Ing windowtr, regulating lamps, and very Possibly upsetting a flower-vase. As the f oarty acri e he begins to talk with each t oerson, b'it he is too pre-occupied with the A ,rouping of his couples for dinner to be ble to give his mind to any conth.ous con- 11 rersation. Somebody has not arrived, and c ,eeps nervously lookinging at his watch. t Nhen all has come he shyly walks from me man to another with a piece of crump- L ed paper in his hand, at which he casts I heepish glances, and tells them, in a mys- t erlous whisper, whom they are to take in o dinner, with the air of a man who is loing something of which he is ashamed. t krrived in the dining room, inptead of a luietly directing his guests to their allotted eats he orders them to their places like a ergeant major, and after making an apo. ogetic grace he sits down. Once seated at lie table there is not much left for the host ind hostess to do. They may try to at ract the attention of the butler and ask in to open the windows wider; but, if hings go badly, all they can do is to look mn grimly. It might often be well if hosts md hostesses were to endeavor to make hemselves more argeeable at their own ables; but, as a rule, people are pleasanter *ompauions in the houses of others than in heir own. At their own entertainments t hey are apt to be too much pre-occupied I o be able to give their whole minds to any 8 ubjeet which may be mooted. l.hey are retting because the soup is cold, or becaue I ni entree is over-flavored- they are In gomes at a long pause which occurs be ween the courses; they are observing that couple at the other end of the table are tot talking to eacli other; or they perceive I hat the best judge of wine at the table is 2 Irinking light claret, instead of the best hampagne which has been produced for I kis special gratification. We lately saw a iostess much perturbed In spirit. She had rovided the best of meats and drinks; but ome of the guests falecd to do justice to hem. One gentleman had taken up total btinence; and instead of enjoying the ixcellent wines, he lectured upon the sub ect of his favorite hobby. It happened to ic a Friday, and two of the other guests rho were Roman Catholics, touched neither oups, entrees, joint nor jellies, to the great orrow of their hostess who did not per elve that they made capital dinners on fish, I regetables, sweets and wine. Ette-Flysna Extraordinary. Kite-flying is an expensive recreation in lodie. A saloon keeper of that mining enter recently made a kite of a $500 plate ;lass, 6x10 bar-room mirror, tying it to a tring of demijohns and brown jugs for a all. The novel kite went up with a rush, nud, reflecting the rays of the sun, datzhed he eyes of all that beheld it. Its focus ox ended as far as Mammoth, where a hay tack was set on fire by concentrations of he sun's rays. The inhabitants of the lat er place was greatly alarmed at the singu ar object in the heavens, one correspon lent having compared It to "a ball of con lensed lightning." Unfortunately the saloon :ceper's stock of jugs and demijohna was lot large enough to supply the necessary ounterpolse to the heavy mirror, and, after scending to a groat height, with amazIng apidity, it suddenly turned and fell with a rash to the earth, breaking it Into a thous- 3 nd fragments. The whisting of the wind a the jugs and demijohns made a peculiar ort of music, the stone jugs supplying the 1 mase and the glass demijohns the treble. It appened that they were all in accord, and fine harmony was the result. Egypt's seatSered Obei~ak,. Thirty obehieks transported from Egypt a rom time to time are now standing in varn >ns parts of Europe. Of these there are in lome eleven, of which four are hIgher 1 han the New York obelisk. The highest4 >f these, and the highest in Europe, beingt 08 feet without the base stands before the I hurch of St. John Lateran. Tie obelIsk a the piazza of St. Pteter's is eighty-twor cot nine inches high. both of these are dounted on high pedestals. The pedestal( f the 8t. John Lateran obelisk is forty-fourr cet high, making the entire height of I bolisk and pedestal 150 feet. The pedestal f the St. Peter's obelisk Is a trile less than Ifty feet high, making the whole height of he monument . 182 feet two Inches. If< ommander Gorringe has brought with1 kim the entire pedestal on which the New tork obelisk stood at Alexandria, about he same proportions will be observed as hose of 1St. John Lateran obelisk, the edestal of the former being twenty-seven1 eet one inch, and its obd~isk sixty-eight eet eleven inches, making the whole height >f our obelisk ninety-six feet.1 Not John. "Some vat years ago,'I said Abraham fogleaplatter "my son John he got in his iot to run avay mit home ; so he comes to Ler oil country. Some vat more years ader his fadder comes mit der oil country ome more as den or fife dImes to see his on John. But John he geope mit himself' bSwy someveres, unt 1 no more see him nor le tuyful. Dis mornin' von I vas goomm' mut der sthred mit Congress, I happeis-to ook cop, unt dere vas my son John coom n' along, by shiimmitnny. I shoost run unt mut my arms around my son John's neck and pegins to cry some more as a pabhy, Ion my poy he puts his arms around my sepk, unt he cries more as vqM I did. Fhen [ looked into my son's face, ut# py dot-holy ihhoke, It vas no mor4 my' soin John as 20g," ' NEWH tN BRIEF. -There are 20,000 porpih tin min re. . - - i mm. -Work .on the Washington c Monu 3eut is progressing steaoily, and the eight is now 226i t. -The endor.ment df the Tfiiversity f Rochester, has been .99mpleted by he raising of $250,000. -It is reported tiat 't;hA' rince of Vales will go to Atistialla in 'October, eturning via CqiifornIa. , ; 0 -The Nova Scotia gold misers are aid to have prodleed n6re -than $6,-. 00,000 in eighteen years. .., 4. , - -The only portrait for pligh the lope ever sat has just been completed y Jatnssens, the Belgian artist. -Lindsay Morse the veteranw mes. enger of the navy departneit, entered uto the 53d year of his reign last *eek. -A French companr'yWitt $5,000,000 3 negotiating for the purqbaqe pf the laltic ship yard, now owied by Rus lans. -About ninety million dollars are nnally paid to foreign shypperd fXr, he transportation of American pred ucts. -A monument to Plus IX**id 'the orm of his statue, little less than t*i06! he 3zo of life, has just been ereoted In! Illan Cathedral. -A monument in Carrara marble as just been erected In Adersbach.Ao; onmemorate the vibit of Goetlie to hat place In 1790. -In the Irish Landed Estates Court, tst month, the highest bid for a n T'ipperary was $35,000. It had be~n ought in 1804 for $82,500. --There were 25,172 students tilti.h wenty u niversities of Germany duribg lie winter semester of 1879-70, an Aver go of more than 1,000 aplecl -In the Roman doinions, duritig & ingle reign of thirty-eight years6 9. redible writer says, 100,000,000 fell. 1ctins to a fearful pestilence. -Goy. Stanford and wife,of Cahfor ia, went to see 'he Danites in London. lie other night, and Mrs. Stantord vore $100,000 worth of diamonds.'. -The Barley Crop of tDrie county, n this btate, is estimated at 450,000 aushels this year, an excess of 50,000; iushels over the yield of last year. -The Prince of Wales 1i a prudeit nan and careful for his family' He' naured his life long ago fgrt$20Q 000 ) nd pays an annual premium JRq00, -Queen Sophia of Sweden. is guter. ng more than ever frot 'tier heark lisease, and Is going to AmsterdAft' to ae treated by a distinguished physloiasu here, -The annual potato crop of; the. Jnited States is estimated at nearly 00,000,000 bushels of which Ne* 'ork St,.te alone ?unishes 25,000,090 ushels. -Fifteen years ago Chicago mer hants obtained their supplies of chefee ron the E, ast; now 100,000,000 pbunds oass through that city from the W.t or New York. -The oflicial return gives khev44s f diamonds expor ted frniv the Suth' kfrican diamond 'fllds in 18-19 is -4 , 85,610,,tho value of those obtained iaii 878 being X3,084,711. : . ; 0 -The valley of the Missisippi has ,257,000 square wilps of territory. -t vaters make about 10,000 mile* of pafl ,ation, and its valleys give level routes o a vast system of railways. -lops were 1iatro'ued from the etherlands into England about 1624" aut physicians having -represented' hm, to be upwholesome in brewing, heir use was forbidden in 1428. -Mr. McCulloch, 'of Australia, taes: to thought of exper'ese about i's cattle." lately he gave #85,000 for'i the Tco*' 'Duchess of Lancabter,'t and ,$23,600a or Berkely, "Duke of.Oxfor4," . -There are now eighty-*ve Epissops, huirchos and chapels in New York ity, and the num bee, has dpub,1ed In he last twenty'-five years. Th~re ar, 4,000 childrent in SundA0Ohliols. -Mr. Edwini Booth is at thi Lakes t [illarney. From there he will"ot Icotland and Wales, and fill an enga~~ rient in the Autumni at. Beurlin. las not decided to pl-ay in London. -Uenerai Myer, who was Afty-tw ears old at the time of his deat ,td, ot look much oldler than forty. 'e ras a handsome man, tall an-d ereot.l10 earing, with ai f air and ruddy counten. nuce. -The figures show that there were, 00,000 tons of ice secured on th4 Ken abec last' winter, which At $2.60 per on wIll produce. $2,000,000. Tlis :16s no ice by 100,000 tons than was eyer ecured ern the river before.' -rho increase in value of 1 mporf..' Laid exports of merchandise of th& JnIted States during the year ehdihg Fuly 31, 1880, as compsred with $hat of he previous year Is : Importe,. $280, '81,456; exports, $142,072,439. -Lord Beaconsfield was amang nest constant inquirers at Mr. l d tone's while the Premier's life Was in' hanger. The two distinguished state. non are said to entertain a genuine eeling of' respect for each other. -Mr. John~ C. Hamilton, -who his >eon spertding the. season g( a still quaie a vigorous men udi are say tlhat it is notewforthy~oh aint, vhen talking of the past, refer to "lyp ather," meaning Alexander Hamaltosi: -The 10arl of Eidoaa's treside -j~ )orset, was ehtered .by haurga ~~, Lnd articles 'to the ~valda 'of*'0 yore carried off. Among them'Wr~h argo seal-.-stated to be probably;$hhtf >ortlon of the Great Seal of GQearg9 LW shichi was presented to Lordheg or Eidon by George IV. ---ramways are becoming popu~dI n Mdtico. Among other cities'thASt mave reo""tly adopted them, are Gua. lalajara an~d the mountal~ boundT9o n the state~ of Jalidco., bl ng arrangements t6 havyt~~ V'era Crus they are to be e*t daL Iit MIexico~city we have thqgniin aU ded liomis,ipf bo~,h narrow 9J% e -Thu hem ok force )fbark foe lon dein ua mords, and 100,874 tooo'd ate' ainually. 'Jtoas~ r ['rade ata12ou irely out, *To, chek the dl~ d sffot wll be made at the nexl r mpo t du