The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, October 12, 1880, Image 1
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