The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, November 27, 1880, Image 1
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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 -