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- - - * T R. . TRI-WEEKLY EDTION-. WINNSBORO, S. 0., NOVEMBER 27, 1880.. VOL. IV.-NO. 43~ THi CHIMNEY'S MONG. Over the chimney the night wind sang, And the Chanted melody no one know; And the woman stopped as the b-ibe she tossed, And thought of the one she had long sino' lost, She said, as her tear-drops back she forced, "1 hate the wind in the obimney." Over the chimney the night wind Bang, And ohanted a melody no one knew , And the ohildren said as they closer drew 'Tin some witch that is cleaving the black night through 'Tin a fairy that just then dew, And we fear the wind in the chimney." Over the chimney the night wind sang, And chanted a melody no one knew I And the man, as he sat on his hearth below, Foid to himself, It will surely snow, As fuel is dear and wages low, And I'll stop the leak in the ohimney." Over the chimney the night wind sang, And chanted a melody no one know ; But the poet listened and smiled, for he Was man, aid woman, and child, all three, And he saeid. "It is God's own harmony, The wind tMat sings in the chimney." Too Much to Ask. When I was a young man, I entered the manufacturing house of Bell & Co, as a clerk. as The position which I held, that of chief salesman, gave me a knowledge of the wants of customers, and necessarily brought me in daily contact with the master me chanic of the concern. This gentleman was a man of considerable ability and much goodness of heart. We became intinate-soelally, and fast friends. He was married. Ils wife was, to all ap pearances, an esteinable lady-loving and unselfish. I was a frequent visitor at their house, their society being particularly pleasurable to me; and I had reason to believe my pres ence equally agreeable to them. I 'often thought, that if I had a wife to grace my home like the one possessed by John Rivers, I should be contented and happy. After awhile a visitor arrived at the RI vers' mansion-a sister of the wife. This sister was younger, fairer, and more beautiful in every respeet than the other. I, as might be expected, took a great fancy to a the new comer. An attachment sprang up 1 between us which ripened into love; a very I ardtnt love, on my part at least. I then thought that women were little less than angels, and she the fairest and purest of them all. In time I declared my passion, and my sweetheart gladdened my heart by the ac knowledgmentof feelingssimilar to my own. We became engaged. I need not tell you of the blissfulness of those days. The charm of life seemed to have just begun. In the meantime, John grew discontented with his position at the factory. His income was large for a salary man, but its coming was so regular, and the amount so unvary ing, that there was a monotony about it which did not harmonize with his ambitious ideas. He threw up his position, and started a factory of his own. His notions of business were those of a child; his train- I ing had not been in the proper direction for success. H~e failed disastrously. is wIfe, in stead of extending the sympathy which a man, under such circumstances, craves, charged him with inbecility, Her reproach es were so constant that the poor man became distracted. The loss of his wife's love and respect, added to the destruction of his financial, hopes, made him sucaumb entirely. He died, leaving lis wife nearly penniless. The bereaved ones took their loss quite philosophically-evinced but little grief, I thought. I offered them all the consolation in my power-showed a becoming interest in the widow's plans for the future-made various suggestions in regardl to positions which were respectable, and duties light, and the pay good-all of which advice was kindly receivedi, but not acted on. Thiough Mrs. Rlivers, after lier husband's misfortunes, had exhibited traitsof character which would re'nder her, during seasons of disaster, anything but a congenial compan ion, I should, if Ilhad been pecuniarily able, have urged a speedy maiage of myself and beloved, and offered a home, fr'ee from care, to the wIdow of my deceased friend; but the claims of miy widowed moth. and young siaterecould not be ignored, and those claims, though lmbierate ekotugh, were sufilently great to keep my purse ini a state of deple tion quito incomnpatible with the pernranent maintenance of strangers. My resources wore too limited to entertain such a thought for i rnmnit. Not so, however, with the ladies. That as yet unproposed arrangement was the one of all others uppermost in :their minds; though, I opine, they had no great faith in its accomplishment, else the change in their manner towardis mec woiuldi not ,have been so marked. 1 continued my attentilons, of course, to my lady love; hut noticed a great lack of cordiality on her-part; the heretofore freely given smiles were withheld; and when I put the question to her, "11ow soon shall the happy day be?" she replied, "The day of our marriage may he hastened, or perma neatly removed, according to your decision in regard to a request which I have to make.". I asked her to name the request, though I confess I was not without a surmise as to the iature of it. Stud she, "It relates to my sister. H1cr Welfuaro is a consideration of more import ance to me, just now, than a matrimonial alliance with anyone; that is, unless such alliance should contribute as much to her comfort as my own. What I wish to ask is, whether y6u are willing, in the event of our marriage, to undertake my sister's support, and to give her a home-a permanent home -under your own roof?" This request, as she termed it, I felt in no position to grant. The want of delicacy displayed made me forget that solicitude for one's kindred is an admirable thing, even though allowed to outrun one's discretion; and the bargain like way in wioh the mat. ter was broached seemed to rob the subject of our union of all the tenderness with which I, in my own mind, had surrounded it. I tried to explain to her that I was nqt a rioh man, but expected to do for her rela tive whatever my'ability would permit; and reminded her that If she loved and trusted ne, she might safely leave the matter to my honor. But that did not satisfy her. Counting too much upon the extent of my affections and not realizing the effect of persistanoy on some natures, she pressed me, to bind myself by a sagred promise, or relinquish any claim which I might fancy I had to her band. The conflict of emotions (love and pride) made me hesitate for a moment cre Iwas ready to reply. When about to speak, he seemed to divine my answer, and inticipating it, and raised her hadd and laid, coolly: "I know'what you would say; please consider our engagement at an end." After a few words of entreaty and re )roach-on my part, and the farewell injunc ion, "Go and never show your face again" rom my amiable friend, I retired from her ,resence. For three weeks following this distrees ng Interview, I was the most wretched nan in the country. The alternate feel ngs of wrath an1 forgliene*s, of love and dhagiin, to say nothing of the rude awak ining which I had experienced from my llssful dreams, so wore upon me that; I tould neither eat or slebp, and became re luced to a mere shadow of my former elf. Wnat the end might have been to me I tread to think, had not a few lines from Ler own pen reached me, expressing regret or what had oeen said-avowing a love hich could not endure endless separation, hng intimating that a sister's importhulty vas the cause o.f the whole unpleasant less. That letter calmed the "troubled waters" if my soul considerably. My appetite un iroved; I began to assume again the ap iearance of a human being. But I was in no hurry to reply. My love had received such a withering hat it was in no condition to bloom again ight away; and my views as to the nature nd motives of women had undergone omewhat of a change. "Angelica" and 'Sinceritas" were names which had been eplaced in my mind by others less flatter ng, but perhaps more appropriate. Indecsion,common to young peopl6 suf 'ering from heartache, led me to delay so ong any recognition of her communication, hat the lady evidently thought I needed nether stirring up, and one, too, of a dif erent character. I received, through her awyer, notice of a suit brought against me or breach of promise, and necuniary dama ~es for Injured feelings, &c. Strange to what expedients women will esort, to further ends I I would willingly have paid the damages, blthough .1 had but little faith in the exist nce of injuries; but publie scandal was a. biog I dreaded to face; and a legal contest vith a woman-a woman whom 1lonce had iearly loved, and for whom, perhaps I till felt a weakness-was highly distaste 'al to me. But I had a character to sus amn, so concluded to appear as defendant n the case. The tria:, like the lady herself was a nixture of bitter and sweet. The hand of he widow, as prime mover In the proceed ugs, was plainly revealed, The symipa ,hies of the jury were largely wIth the fair plaintiff (beauty and tears have their influ mnce), but the evidence was entirely against 1er, and she lost the suit. Bubsequent to the trial, I offered through ny attorney, to pay such part of the dam iges claimed as I was then able-promising o liquidate the whole in-tinme. I did not like the attitudle in which I was unwilling y placed, that of an ene-ny to the cherish 3d ones of my dpparted frioidi,n and made his offer to change it, as well as to show to the ladies that their welfare was a mat ter in which I had not ceased to take an Interest. And I had, too, an undefinablo Fneart longing for the happy day's of the past-a yearning for her who once had re DLcive my caresses, nd a sincere wissh to retain her esteem. .My offer was refused with disdain (the freak of a wonman,or perhaps, the disrdgard, for once, of the prayer&; of a sister), and a verbal message sent to me to the effect that it was her earnest, hope that I -should know nothmig but misery for the remainder of my lire. After the lapse of several years, I was summoned to the death bedi of my not for gotten friend. I found her conscious, but hardly able to articulate. She implored forgiveness, and managed to inform me that her love had always been mine-her heart htad been right, though her judge ment wrong. The sudden revealing of the bettor si of her nature so over whelmed me withi love and grief for her-the only woma' who hakd over entered my heart-her help less condition so excited my pity, that I would have made any sacrifice to prolong her life. She died in my arms. When I go hence I shall look for her. I hope she may be found in that place from whence I, when I first met her, felt assured she came. A DOek's MysteraeS. It is not an agreeable sight, the bottom of a ship's dock at low wate-, but a thought of what is hidden in and under the soft and bubbling mtd must give pause to many a mind. Divers and dredgers only are familiar by personal contact with the probabilities of the hidden depth, and their experiences are exceedingly varied. The find may be a watch, a telescope or what ever Is liable to fall over from the rail of a tied-up vessel, or horrible possibility, a human body. But the curiosities of dredg. Ing is the point here. A large steamship dock in East Boston Is being cleaned out, for the first time in twenty years, and the many finds in the oozy substance, ' after it has been deposited by the capacious 'maw of the jaw-like dipper into the scow, are very suggestive. Dishes of all kinds, spoons. knives and forks are hooked out by the hundred, whole and well preserved, to say nothing of the myriad particles of broken crockery, scraps ot Iron and other debris, which serve only to emphasime the ordinary imprecation of the dredgman as his " pull" proves disappointing. But the strangest happening of all and the luckiest filsh-out of the season occurred re cenutly, one man recoveting more than four dozen pieces of tableware without a crack or a nick to mar the beauty of their sur face-English crockery of the heaviest and most ornamental description in use on a first-class passenger steamship. Those only who have traveled know the care that is taken on a transatlantic line in table furniture. Dishes and tureens, with their covers, fitting, and In one instance a half dozen matched dinner-plates with the com pany arms, were f:und. How did these valuables find their way over the vessel's sides? No other theory seems plausible than that of a lazy scullion committing to everlasting mud what lie was too indolent to wash. Think how ex pensive the cheapest servant can become, unwatched, onone of these floating palaces, where the means of ever hiding the object of his dread of work'are so near at hand. ;How 'easily'all the evidences of theft and pocket:.picaing cau be obliterated by the light-fingered gentry. 'The depth of mud in a dock is always problematical. until tested by a pole or diver, the latter way being attended with more or less danger. 8ome months ago a large steamer was haul ing out, and, the nian it charge of the wharf-line did not slip it at the proper mo ment. The result was, the capstan head was wrenched from the deck, and this costly piece of ahin-gear cast ini.o tb" dock. The vessel proceded on its voyage, and a diver was engaged for $50 to recover the capstan. le descended in the usual way, with loaded shoes and metallic head dres, but he did not bargain to sink so deep in filth, though in water it would have been comparatively a pastime. Down, down lie went, yet with paintul slowness, and hard bottom was not struck until he was far deeper thaL his own height, and he was not a "auorty," as the boys say. It was out of the question to attempt to grope around for a capstan under such con ditions, and he signalled to rise. Nothing daunted in his original purpose, however, he doffed the loading from- his shoes and made a second descent horizontally, as a swimmer sinks at will, and groped around for the missiug article until he had ex plored by his sense of touch the surface mud of the cutiro dock bottom. No cap stan, no pay ; and the discomnited diver was oblhged to relinquish his search, 'rho capstan has not been found yat, and pro bably sank with Its calle attached to a greater depth than humian perseverance could fathom, it is expected that the present dredging will bring the lost capstan to lght. Over Exurtlon. Long-coiitinued oxertion, without prop er intervals of rest, is followed by a pecu flat sensation of fatigue. and often by tremor ir cramp. Fatigue is duo, in part, to the fuiure of contractile material and an accumulation of waste-products, in the muscles, but in the main, to exhaustion of thb nerve-centres that supply stintiuts to contraction. Both tremor and cramp are probably caused bf excessive muiscuilar ir ritability, the former being due to short, irregular explosions of muscular force, the latter being a prolonged contraction of the muscle. When over-exertion is conflned to a small group of muscles, these, instead of becoming enlarged and strengthened as is the case when exertion and rest are duly interchanged, suffer chronic exhaustion. which shows Itself in a species of paraly s-as ia the palsy, or cramp, severally p~eculiar to writers, telegraphers, type setters, vilhnists, pianists, tailors, milkers and men of various trades whose work is mainly with. the hiaminier. It' Is corn. luted ti~at the pen.biade forger, if indlus trious and disposed to do full work, de livers neariy 29,000 accurate strokesa day, and in ten years, over 88,000,000, each stroke Involving expediture of nerve force, both inathe no yes .i f the brain which c.I oia.ate the dis.anoe and anmount of f,>rce nects ary, and the nerves of the miubecs eogaged in the act. -Another result of over-.exertion is Irritability of thme heart, sim I arly duo to exhaustion of nert e force. The hear tnaay become diated, so that valves-one or more-cease f ully to close the openings, or the valves become thick oned and incapable of ready and complete action. TIhie elastic tissue of the great arteries leading out of tie heart, may be weakened by over-distension, and the walls may, during some strong effort, so far give way as to form a pouch, or even to stretch out Into a fatal aneurism. This iriltibility of heart gives rise to palpita tion, carolac pain and rapid pulse. It Is estimated that thuirty-ekcht per cam6 of cases of this affectinn among our soldiers, during She late civil war were duo to long and rapid marches, or to other forms of over-exerton, Professional pedestrian. are proverbially short-lived. Mlountain. climber;, and persops who carry gymnas tie or athletic exercises to excess andI especially laborers whose work is severt and who also suffer fromu intemperance, Ifdil air and inmproper diet, are jieculiarlj h~able to -heart disease. True to 1is Word. The execution of Chester Dixon, con victed of murder, at the list term of the circuit court of the ChoctAw nation. took place recently. Chester Dixon, the mur derer, was a young, full-blooded Choctaw about 17 years of age. He was subject to fits, during which he often lost control of himself. le was, aside from this malady, considered rather a bright boy. Dixon lived with his mother and stepfather about five miles from Atoka. Their nearest neighbors were an Indian known as Wash ington, and Martha, his wife. One after noon, about a year ago, Washington re turned from Atoka and found that a hor rilde murder had been committed. The body of his wife lay on the floor of his cabin in ghastly fragments. The head was severed from the body, and several terrible gashes had been infictted with an axe. The bloody instrument of butchery lay beside the bleeding victim. The alarm was given and it was discovered that Dixon was seen issuing from the fated house cov ered with blood. He was arrested, but stoutly denied the killing. lie was tried according to the Choctaw law by a compe tent jury. He was found guilty and sen tenced to be shot Sept. 10, at noon He was allowed to go home from the court room unrestrained, except by parole of honor to be at the court-house at Atoka at the hour appointed for his execution. Choctaw laws provide for no appeal, else his case would have been reconsidered, for after his conviction he was attacked with a fit, which proved conclusively that he was subject to temporary aberrations, during which, it is presumed, lie was irresponsible for his actions. His attorney during the trial had not made any such plea and the sentence of death having been pronounced it was unalterable. On Thursday Dixon came to Atoka with his stepfather for the purpose of ordering his coffin. le had his 1 measure taken and gave the orders for the ellspo.dtion of his body withOut the least 4 appearance of ooncern. On Friday morn- I ing about one hualred persons, ilost of 4 them whites, gathered about the court house to witness the execution. Up to i within half an hour of the appointed time I Dixon had not appeared. Our reporter I asked his companion whethpr there was I not some likelihood of the prisoner break- i ing his parole. "If he is alive lie will be here within ten I minutes just as sure as the sun shines." Hardly bad these words been spoken when a murmur of " Here he comes " was 4 heard on all sides, and there rode up a 4 young fellow, slight in bitild, tall and I straight, but rather awkward in his move- i ments.- Alighting from his pony the boy I approached a little knot of Indian women I wh6 were gathered around a blazing log. Without giving ary attention to those around him lie sat down by a stump, and, hanging down his head, he seemed lost in meditation. IPresently a venerable old I Indian approached the boy and apoke to I im In M n untoctaw tong-1, n1111, 4 as the interpreter said, to meetls ate as I became a Choctaw brave; to remember I that nothing but his life would atene for the life lie had taken, and not to make the expiation grudgingly, but to meet his death feeling that his people had done justice in oondemning him. While the old man was talking Dixon I held his head down, but at the conclusion of the speech lie looked up, held out his hand, and in the hearty grasp he gave the old man's hand, seemed to imply that he I would not falter, and lie never did thrugh out it all. Several men and women then came up and shook hands with him. He I looked up at each one with a glance of rec ognition, but never spoke a word. At 11:45 o'clock the sheriff, Win. Nelson, brought the boy an entire change of cloth ing, which he put on. While Dixon was dressing for the grave, eagcr eyes watched his every motion to discover, if possible0, the least evidence of emotion, but ite ad justed every button without a sign of tremor. He then sat down on a blanket while his mother con bed his hair. The sheriff then announced that the t ime had come. Dixon arose and walked to the spot pointed out by tihe officer. and stood facing lis coffin, His stepfather held his right hand, his cousin supporting himt on the left. The same old man wvho had spoken to Dixon before now made a mark 'with charcoal upon the boy's breast, just over the heart, and spoke a few words of encouragement. T1he sheriff then bound a handkerchief over Dixon's eyes, command ed him to kneel, and immediately there after beckoned a man who had until then kept out of sight. This was Abner Woods, a cousin of the condemned. Dixoii had chosen 1dm to do the shooting. Abner advanced, and taking lis position about five ' paces from the boy, he leveled his Winchester rifle, took steady aim, an~d fired. The ball went to the mark. Almost simultaneously with the report of the rifle Dimxon fell forward, uttering a groan, and died without a struggle. The minother of the (lead took charge of the remains, which were buried by a few friends. TIhe entire proceeding passed without a sem blance of excitement. Everything was conducted properly and decorously. As contrasted with the civilized mode of pun. lssinent the Choctaw method is more humane, more effective andI is more likely to deter others from capital offenses. Zilto, the Koroorer. Very extraordinary things are related of Zilto, a sorcerer in the Court of Wonces laus, King of Bohemia, and afterwards Emieror of Germany, In the latter part of the iouirteenth century. 'risg ii, perhap', all things considered, the moat wonderful specimen of magical power anywhere to be found. It is gravely recorded by Du bravious, Bisbop of Ohanuts, in his History of Bohemia. It was publicly exhibited on occasion of the marriage of Wenceslaus with Sophia, daughter of the E~lector Pala tine, of Bavaria , before a valt assembled muntitude. The father-in-law of the King, wel.l aware of the bride-groom's known pred loction for theatrical exhibitions and magi sl illusions, brought with him to Prague. the capital of Wenceslatis, a Whole wagon load of morrice dancers and jugglers, who made their appearance among the royal retinue. Meanwhile, Zilto, the 'favorite magician of the King, took I.Is place ob scurely anmong -the ordinary spectators. He, however, immediately arrested the atten tion of the strangers, being remarked - for his extraordinary deformit'y, and a mouth that stretched completely from ear to ear. Zilto was for some time engaged In quietly observing the tricks and sleights, that were exhibited. At length, while the chief magician of the Elector Palatine was still busily em ployed in showing some of the most ad mired specimens of his art, the Bohemian, indignant at what appeared to him the bungling exhibitions of his brother artist, came forward and reproached him with the unskillfulness of his performances. The two professors presently fell into warn debate. Zilto, provoked at the Insolence of his rival, made no more ado, but swal lowed him whole before the multitude at tired as he was, all but his shoes, which he objected to, because they were dirty. le then retired for a short while to a closet, and presently returned, leading the inagi Dian along with him. Having thus disposcd of his rival, Zlto proceeded to exhibit the wonders of his art. le stiowed himself first in his proper shape, and then in those of different per ions successively, with countenances and a stature totally dissimilar to his own; at one lime splendidly attired in robes of purple jud silk, and then In the twinkling of an 3ye In coase linen and a clownish coat of rrieze. le wound proceed along the field with a smooth and undulating motion with yut changing the posture of a limb, for all he world as if lie were carried along in a ;hip. He would keep pace with the King's harlot, in a car drawn by barn-door fowls. lie also amused the King's guests, as they sat at the table, by causing, when they itretched out their hands to the different lilshes, sometimes their hands to turn into ,he cloveD feet of an ox, and at other times nto the hoofs of a horse. lie would clap )n them the antlers of a (leer, so that lien they put their heads out of the win low to see some sight that kas going by, hey could, by no means, draw them back tgain; while he, in the meantime feasted )n the savory cates that had been spread Jefore them, at his leisure. At one time, he pretended to be in want )f money, and to task his wits to devise be means to procure it. On such an oo ,asion ke took up a handful of grains of worn, and presently gave themn &ho form ind appearance of thirty hogs, wel! fatted or the market,. lie drove tuese hogs to he residence of one Michael, a rich dealer, ut who was remarked for being ponurious kd thrifty In his bargains. He offered hem to Michael for whatever price he hould judge reasonable. The bargain was presently struck, Ziito at the same ine warning the purchaser, that he should, in no account, drive them to the river to Irink. Michael, however, paid no atten IoU to the advice, and the hogs no sooner rrived at the river, than they turned into rains of corn as before. The dealer, rreatly enraged at this trick, sought high md low fcr the seller, that he might be re renged on him. At length he found him in a vintner's hop, seemingly in a gloomy and absent rame of inud, reposing himself, wlI'h his eO & stretched out on a form. The dealer :aOU uu. su unauj ..... v icar. Finally he seized Zilto by one foot, alucking at it with all his might. The :oot ca.ne away with the leg and the thigh mnd Zilto screamed out, apparently in ;reat agony. lie seized Michael by the ape of the neck and dragged him before % judge. Hero the two set up their sepa -ate complaints, Michael for the (faud that and been committed on him, and Zilto for he Irreparable injury lie had suffered in uls person. From this adventure came the ,roverb, frequently used in the days of the uistorlan, speaking of a person who made ma improvident bargain: "le made just mch a purchase as Michael did with his logs." A Bright Bird. A large and handsome whooping stork :aa be seen daily strutting around the yard at the residence of Prof. Paige,' in Council Bluffs. Trhe elongated bird was piurchased by the Professor during a vIsit to Mexico some months since aiid has become quite tane. Among other food that, the stork relishes is a nice fat mouse. Mrs. Paitge has a small wire trap in the house and whenever a mouse happens to wander there In, he becomes a sweet morsel for his stork ship. Tihe other day Mrs. 'Paige noticed the bird standing near the barn watching intently at a small hole leadhing beneath the building. The stork remained in an atti tudle of watchfulness for necarly half an hour, and Mrs. Pauige becoming curious, concluded to watch and see what followed. Finally she saw a mouse creep into sight from tundem the barn, and the same instant the intelligent stork pounced down on the mouse and "took him in," killing it first and then eating it. After performing this intelligent feat, the stork resumed lis viglance at the mouse hole, anid, after watching sharply for over an huou:-, seemed to grow we ary of his work or get out of patience, and marching to the house entered the kitchen, and picking up the mnouec-trap, fmo.n which he had so often been fed, he returned to the barn and set the trap down near the hole, evidently appreciating the use of the trap, and believing that it would catch a mouse for him. IUe Expecoti It.* The man who leaves a tinshop or a hard ware store with a length of stovepipe un der his arm knows exactly the gauntlet he has to ruin, and has probably braced' him. self for the emnergenoy. Thie regular pro gramme is as follows: First man-"lielil H ad to come to it aveoyou ? Second man-"Don't swear if she don't fit?" Third man-"it'er with the ax I", Fourth man-'"'Ive been there, and I have no advice to give you." Fifth muan- "Hello I Whant's that? Ah! I see I Bot you ten to five you'll get mad." Bixth man--"HIo ho! hmol Well, I never! 1 always stand on the step.laddor and hammer with a stick of wood." Seventh man-This man makes a me tioD for the man with the stove puipe to halt, points to the stove pipe and asks: "is that stove pipe i" "Yes." "Is it to put up a stove with ?" "Going to put up the stove yoursell I" "Yes." "Well, I shan't hinder you. Stoves have almost become a necessity of late years. I know quite a number of my neighbors who are getting them to build fires inm. Let me khow how you come out . Iron Making In India, In th4 Kuman district tuere are four sov oral localities whsre blast furnaces have been erected. These. in the order of their distance troni Moradaba-l, which Is nearest a railway station, are Kaladungi, 1Jechauri, Khurpatal and Riamgarh. At Kaladungi there are four furnacos of about fourteen hundred cublo feet capacity each. The situation ia unhealthy, and the furnaces and the W9o1wing machinery of a primitive sort. With water as the motive power for the blast-and water is the power Intended to be utilized in the four loealitiee-three of these farnaces have worked, in all, only two half yeais. The last went out in May, 1863, when the aggregate yield had been five hundred and forty-five tons of pig iron of a voty inferior quality. At Dechauri there is one furnace, also of about fourteen hundred cubic feet capacity, which was erected and first put in blast by the govern ment ofllcers in 1860, and after six weeks' work, during which time it produced lifty-nine tons of iron, came to a stand by the breaking of the water wheel. In January, 1862, the Kuman Iron Company restarted this furnace, but it only worked till May of the same year. It was again put in blast in January, 1863, and blown :ut on the 5th of June. During these two blows four hundred and twenty-four tons in all of iron of a medium quality were :btalned. At Khurpatal there are two tur. naces of aijout seven hundred and eight undred feet capacity respectively. Both ire very much after the style of the Kala :huigi furnaces. They are of the rudest ,onstruction imaginable, being mere cairns; noreover, they are in the most unsuitable position for obtaining either iron or fuel that could well be linarined. No wonder, .herefore, that the larger only appears to liave been at any time in blast, and that its ,otal output Ia set down as "a few tons of ron of some kind." At Ramgarh there ire the outbuildings of a blast furnace which were erected in 1859, but the fur ilace was never finished. In connection with this there are also the remains of a Gerinan forge, erected, apparently, for the 3onversion of cast luto wrought iron. That such appliaices should have been ,rected in India, most of them at so modern i date, will strike the British ironmastet 6vith, astonishment. Yet the facts as hero Rtated, appear in a printed report, dated Allahabad, February, this year, by Mr. Xess to the secretary of government, North ,vest provinces and Oudh. Mr. Ness had seen called to the district to report in detail ipon the more recent atteinpts of the gov rninent to work tihe Dechniuri furnaces. I'iese, between the opening of 1877 and the l2th of September last year made after ieven breakdowns-preceded by a twelve nonths spurt in putting the .furnace into Nvhat was believed to be working order -about six hundred tons. The breakdowns -elated sometimes to thei action of the fur ace, and som'tiies to the water power. 'ho comparatively better results of these 11linuch r 0f loliea'auxilo~^s" rarh ore, containing 42.30 per cein. of netalilc iron, anud over 86 per cent. of silica ind alumnia, with the Dechauri ore, which lolds 88.25 per cent. of metallic Iron and 34 parts of silicious matter; but the better >re has to be brought 30 miles on the backs A sheep and goats, over uneven ground ind heavy gradients. Mr. Ness seems to have well explored the district for better anes, as also to have conducted trials with % temporary reducing furnace; but in the 3nd his advice to the goVernment is to be ,ontent with their present loss, and not throw good money after bad, certainly in tlW ittemnpt to carry on iron manufacture in i,he Northwest provinces by the aid of the blast furnace. It Is manifest that the Brit ish ironmaster has little cause to fear that idia will soon be in a position to supply herself with the home made article. AdIuteraionas of Food. Prof. S. W. Johnson, in his paper re eently read at Saratoga, states that the practice of adulterating milk by adding wva ter alone, enables peddlers to sell annually in New Yorki City, 40,000,000 quarts of this harmless beverage at an average of Len cents per (quart, realizing $4,000,000 a year, or $12,000) per (liy, ie also finds that the nmber of cows kept to supiply the city of London with milk are not snilleciont to afford a single tablespoonful to each ini habitant of the city (hily. London is the centre of gross-adulterations of food and drinks. Alum is used in bread to make it light, elastic, firm and dry, but adultera tion in thi4 country is far less ctmon than mi England. It ought to be, when grain is s )metimes usedi as fuel, because it is cheaper than wood or coal. Tme Profes sor blehieves that granulated sugars are pure, though pulverized sugar and syrups are Jiable to be adulterated. The greatest danger to the public Is rrom the use of coloredi confectionery, andi the only safe mbulis to *let it entirely alone. Market pickles and vinegar are also to be usedl w~th caution. Bar-room liquors are badly udu~lteraitcd by thme use of poisons, anugthe fact Is so well known that he thinks any body deserves his fate who drinks them. A food testihg laboratory to bo established In each State, co-operating with the board of health, lie suggests, would save the citizens mmany times its cost, just as agri cultural eXperiment stations have saved immiense sums to the farmers in the pur chase of fertilizers. On the whole, how ever, adulteration of food In this country, Is not very common. HIs L.asti Dimne. Trhey got Into a bobtail car. They were bo0th dressed to kill. As ho entered he jingledl a lot of'.enponny nails In lis pock et, to give him the appearance of wealth. She arranged her skirts and sat down with much ceremony, while lhe fumbled among the nails for ten cents. lie finally fished it up, but in placing it In the scuttle-hole in the top of the box it slid off and rolled under the seat. lila eyes bulged ou , his faco immnedfa tely resembled an ov ,r ripe plum pudding, his hair stoodi on end, the perspiration trickled down hIs nose, and he looked for all the work~i as if lie had a snake down his back. I1(e didn't know what to do. Suddenly an idea struck him greal hard. He knocked his hat out of the window, and as he got off the back stoop ho told the girl to go right on and he'd catch the car. Although the driver drove slow for three bkocke the yonngman didn't come back. It must have taken him an awful while to find that hat. An Incident of Indian ir. Just above Outeye Foster's bar, on the north fork of the Yuba, there Is -a little valley. In 1846 it was covered with gake. We called it "Indian Valley," and the bar above we then called "Oak Bar,' The valley was thus named because of an In dian family that had pitched their tents there during the long win~or months. They were curious huts, inade of pine bou ha and skins; and, even in those early ties - discarded gunny bags, and pieces of canvas had been utilized by the squaws to supple ment the rude comforts of their bark and bower houses. Our home was at Oak iar. Our houses was made of poles, covered with boughs of trees. Our bed-room, a bunk; out roof and coverlid, an India-rub ber blanket; our pillow, our.. boots; our kitchen, an overshadowing pine; our lqun dry was the rushing Yuba. For cooking utensils we had a bako-kettle,a frying-pan, a coffee-pot; for table furniture, tin cups, tin, plates, two tinned forks, and sheath knives. Our knives were wiped upon our boots, and carried in our belts; our plates and cups were h'ung upon a nail. This saved washing; our kettle, pot, and pan needed no washing-for we never placed anything dirty in them; and th ugh beans. succeeded broad In the kettle, baon sup. pileiented beef in the frying-pau, and slap. jacas succeeded lean or fat andatew or fry, we were not faslidious. We had no time to minister to our creature comforts,no time to prepare luxuries for our palates. Qur appetites, lying below our plates, demand ed prompted service; and the quick passage of the pleasure-path of the throat was made that thu stomach might perform its more practical duty of administering strength to bone and muscles--that all day strajined with pick and shovel, or rocked the Aurl. ferous gravel. In the valley was the storo,made of ban vas. It was not large, but it was a*4tore that held a great assortment of that kind of merchandise that was indispensablp to wear and to eat, and that was comfortable to drink. It was a hotel,add a wareh6use, and a post-oilce; 'a club, and a general in telligence office, and a gold exchange, and a market; a reading-room, and a court house, and a hospital, and agambling hell. it was never so crowded that there was not rooi for another to stand on the out side, or sleep with his blankets under a tree in the immediate vicinity. Its proprietor was every inch a gentleman,and tue writer bears cheerful testimony to the fact that he gave honest weight of flour and sugar, and raw potatoos, and beas-all at a dollar a pounid. Pickles; vinegar, aid potatoes, eaten raw, wore articles of antiscorbutic luxury; flour, bacon, coffee, and. sugar were the necessaries of life. Brandy was night dollars a bottle; certain other lux urios cost an "ounce" a pound. Our-mer chant host dealt an honest card, and when ever he presided at faro, monte, or engaged in the social game of "draw"-was, the very embodiment of judicial fairness, ie tho comminon miner was content wit' ,ant aloons of buckskin and boots . of. -horse ivather, with coat of canvas.orqjsirt of "hickory check," he indulged in ,he., lux ury of immaculate linen, a 'suit of. fash lonable black, and boots: of btlimshed brightness. Upon his domestic relations he was silent, and seemingly sensitive, Kate was.uodest and womanly-beauti ful, we all thought; for she was 'the" only thing in dilmity from Long's Bar to hiown lavilie. She never attended the stoM, but she some sometinies presided as look-but at the faro game, whenher "hushand!3.dealt. 11er room was a canvas square, From its opening fly we caught glimpses .of carpet, easy chair, luxurious bed, and bboks; and from its recesses we somotiies hdard the plaintive touch of the. guitar-not the uusic of a ski led hand, but thq patient, picking-otut of melodious notes, as ,though the hand eought to na~d a strain ' of inusic to satisfy ~ ineo want'of the soul. Thait lie killed Aloxander fairly--Wi 11am Alexander was the name, 'as .we as certained after he was dead-"Wild Bill" everbody called-verbody agreed;.that is he tok(i 13111 to draw and dbfbiid i mself, and If 13111 was not quick enflukh; that wasl iiot his fault. .Bill was . drunk, and this was urged by some of the more: qQnerva tive of the miners as regson w heshould have been spared; aid all agreqd. tbat he was a clever, harumbedarun mii tooa el jow althioughi [ do not, atthisdttht'darecall any particular goodl that' .he~ver did, or that was mentioned at thea time. It was universally agreed that to insult a landy was an unpardlonable offense, and that hate was a "perfect lady'' I havo her dn'in auth ority for saying; for once I heard her make the remark, in answer to the unguarded expressi'ml of a miner that "there wasn't an honest woman within two hundred and fifty miles of this infernal hiole"-referring to Iudian Valley. However, Bill was dead-killed in the presence of the lady whom he had insulted ny hinting that she was less than wife. She sit upon her look-out stool, a calm and unumoved spectator of the deed that 'aretch ed dlead btere h er human form. With a serene andi unmoved expression, she gath eredi together tie checks and the cash, and withdraiwing to her private apartmnept, did Dot agamn appear il after the funpral, Wim a generoius ilberality that. silenced all unikind criticism, the gentlen1n who did the killing claimed the privelege of paying 1:li tihe expenst~B of the burial,which he did-as we all agreedA--handsomely, Nothing was spared, of either expense or tro~uble. Tihe only articles that Bill left his saddle, silver-mounted; a bildie, also silver-mounted ; a lariat of braided hair, his spurs, his bowie-knife,and his revolver, with lis name engraved upon a gold plate --were carefuily preserved for hiS. friends or relatives, if they should ever 'titra up." TIhere was no clergyman In that vicinity, but there was scarce a miner's ckbin that had not a Bible or a prayer-book. His grave was dug, and we all gathered around it. With reverent voice and prayerful heart, the writer of this sketchi reatt over It the service of the enurch. In -his pine cofin, with the wire sieve of sluice-box for thme glass plate, we took the laSt look at poor Bll, in is clean white shirt and clerical necktie. We burled' him; and piantedi at his head a board duly inscribed with the name and date -officiecease, and piled rooks over him to keep the 'coyotes freom digging him up. Naw mown hay is not, as some al leged, an irritant of the digestive oi0 % gans; where is produces irritation It..J simply thA oonsequence of thowi. animals too ea to umiiioh 0 odorlj orous, appeiaingc forage,a4di#qt drin.' lng sttielentty, brings oni giatiogi -