The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, December 25, 1880, Image 1
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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. 1880. S. C. DEEME
COMING BAOK.
They say it our beloved dead
Should scek the old familiar place,
Some stranger would be there instead,
And they would find no welcome place.
I cannot tell how It might be'
In other homes, but this I know -
Could my lost darling come to me,
That she would nover find it so.
Ofttimes the flowers have come and rone,
Otttimes the winter winds have blown,
The while her peaceful rest went on,
And I have learned to live alone.
Have slowly learned from day to day,
In all lif's tasks to bear my part;
But whether grave or whether gay,
I hide her mtemory in my heart.
Fond,. faithful love has blessed my way,
And friends are round me trae and tded
They have their place, but her's to-day
Is empty as the day she died.
How would I spring with bated ;reath,
And joy too deep for word or sign,
To take my darling home from death
And once again to call her mine.
I dare not dream the bhseful dream;
it fille my heart with wild unrest ;
Where yonder cold, white marbles aleam
She still must slumber. God knowi best.
One Midsummer Eve.
A Bloomsburg lodging; on the second
floor, too. Everything looks dingy, mel
lowed down to that uniform brownish hue,
the combined result of London smoke and
"smuts."
Yet it is a pretty little room for all that,
with a decided air of being habitually ten
anted by refined occupants.,
A cheap but artistic-looking cretonne
covers the furniture, and a few' excellent
prints and well-executed oil paintings adorn
the walls.
One ray of the sunlight of this glorious
midsummer eve makes Its way through the
chimney pots opposite. It peeps into the
room, making a glory and a bright spot of
color on a peacock's fan, and glints loving
ly upon the golden hair of a girl' who sits
on a low carved old chair, with an open
letter in her hand.
She Is-about nineteen or twenty, slight
and graceful-looking, with a mass of golden
hair crowning a small, exquisitely-shaped
head, well set upon her shoulders. 8he
wears a long, plainly-made, tightly-fitting
dress of soit gray cashmere, with little
white rufiles at her throat and wrists, and
the hands which hold the letter are small,
white, aLd daintily shaped. The face is
oval, with just the faint suspicion of a
faint shell-pink in the rounded cheeks,
which deepens into a more vivid hue in the
well-shaped lips.
Dark blue eyes, starry as the passion
flowers, gleam from her long dark laehee,
and such Is Alison Harte, artist.
She takes up the letter again and reads
it. -It runs thus
"MooREFiaLD, June 20th.
"DEAR ArLisoN,-I daresay you have al
most forgotten the existence of your uncle
John, as you have never written to me
since your mother's death, six months ago.
A friend of mine was in London this sea
son, and, of course, went to see the exhibi
tion of the Royal Academy, and the other
day, when looking over his catalogue, I
saw the name of Alison Harte, together
with your address. I am very glad to find
you have so far succeeded at your Airofes
sion of an artist as to have a picture hung
in the Royal Academy. I am told it is in
Devonshire-the home of your mother's
youth. You have never been there since
you were a child, so the place must have
niade an impression upon you. It flatters
an old man like me to think that some of
the young people of the present day are
not so utterly selfish and taken up with the
world but that they can find time to recol
lect the scenes of their childhiiod.
"Slhould you care to renew your acqualn
tance with llevonshirc, only say so, and I
shall be happy at any time to see you at
Moorfields. I trust your father Is well,
Just let me have a lhne to 'say you will
come soon, and believe ine, your afiectbon
ate uncle.
' "JoHNK lIELLIH."
Such is the letter which Alison liarte
holds In her hand..
Dearly she would like to accept her
uncle's Invitation, for the girl leads a hard
hPN. life, coining her brains for her daily bread,
working hard at her art, so as to keep a
roof over her head, and that of her father.
Thue latter calls himself a "ilterary man,"
but in reality Is a lazy, gin-drinking sot,
doing a little back press-work now and
* again, for his proclivities are too well
known for anyone to think of employing
Rtupert Harte regularly.
ISo ho lives on the earnings of his daugh
ter. lHe is'her skeleton in the, cupboard,
and it is of her father she thinks as she
sits with, her uncle John's letter In her
* hand.
Rapidly she thinks over the state of her
slender tinances. Idhe hungers and yearns
for a little brlghthess and bravery In her
life.
'1 his Midsummer Eve she feels stifled
.with the heat and stiffness of London, and
feels she would lhke a blow in Exmoor For
est, or in the delicious Valley of Rocks in
her dear dead mother's native Devonshire.
- uddenly she stands tip, and takes two
small oil p~aintings from the top of an old
bureau, and looks critically at thorn.
tiho thinks for a moment, glances at the
clock on the mantleplece, and hses it Is
* only seven.
'Plenty, of time,", she soliloquizes.
"Chambers does not shut until verylate,
and I might get a couple of gwneas for
these."*
She packs them up In a portfolio, and
then, putting on her hat andi a small black
flchu, sets oif for a picture dealer's in the
Gray's-inn-read.
It Is a good long walk, and Alison Harto
se tired by the time she reaohes the dingy
.little shop, which she soon leaves, her
portfolio lighter and her miesgrely-tilled
purse just one sovereign and a half heavier,
klowever; Alison Hatteohws not had much
of the brightness of life. She knows joy
only by negatives-always thankful when
"things are no Wros9"-so she feels com
paratively glad that she had disposed of
her little sketches fcr oven soesmall a
sum,
-It wIll be a help, she reflects, if she can
niansge to-go to her uncle's at Moorsfields,
Oh, MsHatel"
'The exclamation proqkeds from the
grimy maid-of-all-work, as she meet Alison
In the dln hall when she arrives at the
Bloomsburg lodgings after nine.
"What is the matter, Jano?" she in.
qulres, her heart standing still with some
vague feelings of apprehension.
Your father, miss I"
"Well?"
"tie's very ill, miss."
Tais is a goodnatured evasion of Jane's,
who loes not care to say Rupert Harte has
been lrought home helplessly intoxicated.
Alben waits to hear no more. A barn
ing fhtsh of shame passes over her face,
and sbe hurriedly rushes up the stairs and
enters he sitting-room.
Upol. the sofa lies her father4n a state
of stupqr, his neckeloth removed whilst a
tall man--a total stranger--stbuds by him.
He raies his hat as Alison enters the
apartmeat,
"I havc to apologize for my seeming in
trusion," e says, in a grave, pleasant
voice; "bit I found this gentleman taken
Ill in the steet, and I have taken the liberty
of bringing him home."
"Thank you," says poor Alison, the
wave of shalted color again rushing bver
her face. "his is my father. I shall at
tend to him mw."
As she i speaking, the gentleman
glances 4t a roigh sketch which hangs over
the sofa. i
1le is about thirty years of age, tall and
1.,1ad-shoulder, with a russet-brown
b4ard, good, kindly brown eyes, and a
handsome moutl, which shows beneath his
short moustache.
"I am sure I do not know how to thank
you," murmurs Alison, as he bows gravely
in reply to her fornier words.
"You can thank tme," he says, with a
little smile, "by telling ine If. you are the
painter of the sweet Devonshire landscape
which is in this year'q Acey. That is
the rough sketch of it, 1apc * II
And he indicates- e sketch over the
sofa.
"I am Alion Harte, and the painter of
the picture," she replies, simply "But
look! There is something dreadful the
matter with my father."
His face has become of a curious ashen
color, whilst a thin white line appears
around his thin lips.
The gentleman gives one glance at him,
and then says
"I shall go and fetch a doctor.
But the rider on the Pale Horse has
come, and by the dawn of the midsummer
day Alison Harte is an orphan.
The summer's glorious radiance has fled;
Autumn is throwing her russet mantle over
valley and uplard, and Aison Harte. gath
ering her slender resources together, has
come to Antwerp-the city of Rubes
there to study the works of the great mas
ter.
She feels very lonely. HeF eccentric
uncle John she has offended because she
will not accept his proposal utterly to give
up her art, and to become his housekeeper
in the dull old Devonshire manor house.
H enry Staunton. t.hn man who had
brought her father home on that midsum
mer Eve, she had seen very often, and
then his visits suddenly ceased, and left an
aching void in her life which Alison wculd
not acknowledge even to herself.
"A letter for you, Miss Harte," says the
servant of the pension where she boards,
as she arrives home fron the studio one
afternoon.
It is official-looking, and It is bordered
with black. Ahson takes It to her roonL,
Iisurely opens it, her amazement growing
greater and greater as she proceeds
It is from a firm of well-Known London
solicitors. Her uncle, John Mellish, of
Moorsfields, is dead, and he has left her
sole heiress to his property on the condi
tion that she marries the only son of his
old friend, Jacob Hemworth, whose prop
erty joins Moorfields.
There Is to be no appeal from this deci
sion-if Alison refuses the property goes
to Jacob kiemworth's son.
Alison is indignant. She knows. her
uncle was always eccentric, but she has
not been prepared for this. No, she can
not marry a man she does not know any
thing about. Her pure womanhood re
volts againt the idea of giving her hand
without her heart, and of late it has occur
red to her that her heari has gone out o.f
her own keeping.
Alison Harte sits down and writes to the
lawyers, quietly informing them that she
does not care for property hampered with
such conditions.
A week passes away, Ason is too re
ticent to maake many'friends, and1 there
fore, has not spoken of . the lawyer a letter
to anyone. She devotes herself as usual
to her work, and returns late one after
noon, very weary ani fagged, to find Henry
Staunton waiting to see her..
She can scarcely restrain her emotion at
the sight of a friend.
He takes her two hands in his, and, look.
log down at her, says, in a concerned
tone
"You are looking tired. Why, you
look as though you could '' 1 blown away,
you seem so fragle."
Alson looks np at I. ~ 'ictively
she feels a rest sod a sheit .e grasp
of his strong hands, and .", looks at
him for that one brief instait there is a
look in his kind eyes which she cannot
mistake.
"Alison," he whispers, bonding over her,
"I have come for you. Can you love me
sufficiently to be my wife?9"
A start and a quick flush is the only re
sponse, It is enough for Henry Staunton,
and he folds her in his strong, shelterlng
arms.
"And so, Ahison," he says, tantalizing
ly, "you were fond of me all along ?"
"What do you mean 1" she inquires.
"Did you not refuse Mooresfields because
it was burdened with Jacob Hemisworth's
son ?"
"How do you know 9''
"I know a good many things," he says,
lookiog down at her .sweet face, "more
than you do, for you did not know that I
am Jacob -emsworth's son; but I tbved
you, and wanted you to love me for my.
self. I am Henry Staunton Hemsworth."
"Yes," she replies, softly, her heart
filled with a great joy, "I could not think
of marrying anyone else, because I loved
you."
One Midsummer Eve the young mistres
of Moorlelds returned to her mother's old
home the happy wife of Jtacob Hemisworth's
son.
--The leadinug pulishing houses of
New Yoyk, Biostoui and Philadelphia
hale agreed tWocontribute 8,400 volumes
towards the formation of a public Ii
brary in the towl of Rlugby,'Aennes
se., founded byv Mr. Thomas Mughes.
Air Ruangnes.V
A practical experiment has been made '
with an air engine at Woolwich, which so 0
far affords hope that before long humanity ti
and economy may be promoted by the e
abolition of tramway horses, -and that the h
sufferings of travelers by the underground L
railways may be mitigated by the substi
tution of atmospherical power for sulphur- h
ous locqmotives propelled by steam. The i
engine, which has been designed by Major '
Beaumont, Royal Engineer, has been for C
some time running on the short lines of t
the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich, and although 1
weighing but ten tons it has proved capable 2
of hauling a burden of sixteen tons up a a
fair incline. Arrangements were made to e
try its powers In a more extended run,such f
as engines of the kind would have to en.
counter on London tramways and tails. 0
The air reseivoir, which contains only 100 a
cubic feet of air, was charged at the tor- '
pedo pumping-hoase in the Royal Arsenal,
Woolwich, up to a pressure of 1,000 t
pounds to the square inch, and with this 11
store of energy it was proposed to run C
to and from Dartford, about sixteen
miles. Major Beaumont was accompanied b
on the engine by Mr. U. S. Sears, Assist
ant Superintendent of the Southeastern U
Railway, and several other gentlemen, and V
explained the methods which he had
adopted in his invention, the chief feature a
of which was ti o introduction of an almost a
imperceptible supply of steam, by which 0
the air, as it is admitted to the cylinder t
from the reservair, is largely heated, and,
as a matter of course, greatly increased in
force. The engine is driven by six cylin
ders and a double set of machinery at one C
end, and, having no smokestack, resembles ti
in appearance a locomotive tender rather g
than a locomotive. It runs on four wheels, I
and in size is less than an ordinary omni- l
bus. It left the Royal Arsenal station at c
12:22 P. M. with a full charge of 1,000 fil
pounds to the inch; passed Abbey Wood a
station at 12:27.P. M., with 940 poundseto Ul
the gauge; Belvedere at I:33, with 860 '
pounds, and Erith at 12:U6, with 760 it
pounds, arriving at Dartford at 12:50,with ti
a running energy of 540 pounds on the 0
square inch. Shunting at the statlon re- M
duced this pressure somewhat, and at 1:85 im
the return journey commenced with a store 0.
of 510 pounds, although the minimum for fc
effective working is considered to be a a
pressure of 200 pounds. Plunstead sta- h
tion was reached again at 2:10, but. the on- ti
gine was nearly pumped out, having a tr
pressure of barely 80 pounds remaining. ft
The strange looking engine, running with. j
out steam or any other apparent motive a'
power, was regarded with amusing won- te
der by the country people as it passed at at
full speed, and was naturally an object of il
unusual Interest at the various railway i
stations. It was stated that another engine n
is under construction much more power- a:
ful, capable, in fact, of travelling double <
the distance with a single charge. The t(
operation of pumping: the "compressed air P1
occupies about fifteen nunntes, and it Is ti
oaIouIated that an Oir onaino on - tho inAin- el
ciple as large as the usual steam locomotive I
of fifty tons weight would be considerauly b
more powerful than any locomotive yet bi
made. The objection to steam that It a
frightens horses cannot apply to this sys- g
tem, as there is noescape of steam visible P
or audible, and the only noise to be dis- a9
tinguished is a rumbling sound something ti
similar to the rattle of street traffic. The ti
gdner l belief of those who witnessed the a
expeilmeut was that the application of at- b
mospheric power to the science of travel- a
ling was a thing of the near future. 0
p
a1auing a Woman neaunsa I.
There is i' New York, an extensive e
establishment . devoted to the fine art of I
making swomen beautiful. The store itself n
is filled With bright and attractive cases of al
cosmetics, bair goods, frizettes, curls, wigs, ii
switches, chigilons, and ornaments for the fi
hair. Inthe *rear are hair-dressing and e
shampooing-rpoms, but in the secoiid story, d
which ia reached by b passenger elevator, tI
is the salon, the sanctum sanctorum of the fi
art of being made beautiful. No man is
ever permitted to enter this room. It is a
long, lofty apartment, the finishings in
gold and black, and old gold, red, and
bright gold. The cabinets in which the
cosmetics are kept are of black ebonized
carved wood, with gilded traceries. The.
sofas and divans are of crinson plush
and brocatello. Large mirrors, in black
and gold frames, are in each. end of the
room, between the windows. Other large
nurors are set in. the walls on the side be
tween the black and gold cabinets. The
front windtows are shaded with lace cur
tains ; those at the back are filled with
stained glass panes, and open into a con
servatory, Where twittering canaries make C
music in ti e perfume-laden atmosphere.
Opening into this 8salon are dressing rooms, ,
whore ladles retire to have their hair sham
pooed aund dressed, and where the intricate a
art of making up is praedised. This is the c
way the thing is done, as described by a
lady who went thioughi the entire pro
peas:
'After throwting off my polonaise and C
having a peignoir thrown around my
shoulders, my hair was taken out of the
little knot into which I had twisted it and
was shampooed. It was then -dried and'
combed up from miy face and neck, and
smoothed at the edges with bandoline, ap
plied with a small flue sponge. Miy eyes
were then bathed wil clafr de ltmec.
This is an eye tonic, and makes the eyes
exceedingly brilliant. Next, with a mag
nifying glass in her hand, my coiffouso
went over my face, neck, arms, anc shioul
ders, carefully inspecting every part, and
with a pair of fine tweezers she removed
every suiperfluouis hair. 1"rom a little bo x
she dipped with a small, fine, soft sponge
a creaniy, rose-tinted. oeimetic, and care
fully applied it to my age, arms, hands,
'neck, and shoulders, r.ubbing and blending
it carefully and evenlyjover the entiro sur
face. She told me tli~ he used rose-tint
ed creme becanfe I was p ile; for 'ruddy
blondes white creme is used; for bru
nettes, buff 'tinted. There are finishing
powders, too, in all these shades,
"After the creme was rubbed in I was
ready for a bit of color in my cheeks and
lips.. This was applied from a roug6 cup
with what is called, and I suppose is, a
rabbit's foot. The color was rubbed deftly
into my cheeks, a little around my eye, on
my. nostrils, . chin, and ears, and then my
lips were tinged with liquid vegetable, in'
delibie rouge. Then, with a powder puff
of swan's down, she went ever the whole
with a rosy-white blending powder, brush
ing it off carefully with another puff.
Now, my eye-brows wore brushed otld and
shaded with fard indiae. Thbis wa done
with a leather stamn. As tha4 'eme d4
eloutine powder had hidden all my veins,
pith a blue pencil they wore now traced on
iy hands, arms, neck, and temples. With
io same pencil a line was traced under
ach of my eyes and shaded off with a
vesh stamp. All this requires the eye and
and of an artist.
"Then a front coiffure, with waves fall.
ig on my forehead, and curly hair, thirty
iches long. falling bapk, was pinned on
rith invisible hair pins to my own scanty
hAvelure, and, twining it around a coil in
ie back, it was formed with a switch of
toderate size in a low coffnre, a la Grec..
ti. A few little waving cdrls were
dded, falling on my neck, and behind my
irs a few stray loclis were drawn out anu
.izsed; for, as my coiffvuec, said, the
ire should ever be set as*it were in a spray
t hair. Then my eyelashes were trimmed,
nd last of all my nails were soaked, cut,
uted, and polished, and I was supplied
ith a set of toilette des bonyglee and all
io cosmetics I had used and a boeinetic
iask. The whole outfit cost me-- ; you
w pay $100 for an outfit If you choose."
Of course every lady who goes to the
Bautirul bazaar does' not need, nor does
ie take, a complete make up. .It is aston.
hing what a few touchos of rouge, crene,
Sloutinc and fard will ao foi a moderate
good-looking woman, when applied by
a artistic coiffeuse. Then, a very little
Iditional hair, a false front, and a curl or
Yo in the back will completely transform
ko contour of a woman's head and face.
Nut-lEaring Trees.
Few things that can be obtaited at a
mparatively small expense, add more to
Le pleasures and profit of a farm than a
)od assortment of nut-bearing trees.
early all persons, old as well as young.
ke to gather nuts in the fall, and all enjoy
racking and eating them before a blazing
re in winter. Many of our native nuts
re the equal of those that are impoited if
icy are properly-cured, and the pecan,
hich can be cultivated further north than
is found in its wild state, is superior in
LC opinion of most pereons to any variety
' foreign nuts. Hog are very fond of
ting nuts, and will wainder long distances
the woods in search of them. Thousands
hogs are fattened every year on the mast
und in the river bottoms in the 8outhern
id South-western States. When farmers
avq a plenty of mast they ate saved the
ouble of raising corn. Most nut-bearing
ees are ornamental as well as well as use
I. The recan shell-bark and common
ckory are very stately when fully grown,
id are beautiful when young. The but
rnut and black walnut are shapely trees
all stages of their growth, and present a
ie appearance when they become large,
Is not advisable to plant the black wal
it in gardens or cultivated fields, or in
ty place where the roots will extend in
i that is under cultivation. It is better
plant them along the sides of roads, in
katurei or on broken ground that is of lit
3 or no value for ordinary farm crops.
11"y m-wy hea sw~avr 16% 0--.u "Uty a
, lanes leading to pastures, or on the
iuk of streams and ravines. Walnut and
itternut thrive well and produce abund
itly when grown on bottom land that has
xd drainage. It is very dilicult to trans
ant nut bearing trees, even when they
e quite young, on account of their long
,p-roots. If this root is cut off and the
ce removed with a ball of frazen earth
Iherring to it, it may live several years;
it the chances are that it will never make
very thrifty or productive-tre. It is ac
)rdingly better to plant the nuts in the
laces where the trees are desired. They
ay be planted in the fall, but there Is
ome danger of their being dug up and
ten by small amMals. If planting is do.
yed till spring, the nuts should be placed,
aarly as soon as they are gathered, in
mallow boxes of sand or light soil and left
an exposed condition where they will
emz. it is best to excavate a hole soy
al feet deep, and fil it with manure or
ecayed leaves and loose,soil, and to place
mo nuts within a few inches of tile sur
ice. This will insure a vigorous growth.
flow so Have Ice Next Sumnaer.
A great many people do without Ice in
io sunmmer-though the ponds and
treams at their doors 'furnish an
bundant supply every winter-simply
ecause they imagine that an expensive
ye-house is needed to hold the ice. A
entlemnan who once labored under the
une delusion, describes the experience by
rhich he was led to store his summer sup
ly of ice successfully, without an ice,.
ouse, after paying dearly In disappoint
lent, loss of ice and loss of money through
aving "too, much ice-house." Hie was
anvinced of lis error by the circumstance
iat the more p~ains he took with his ice
ouse the more rapidly his ice incited,
rhile a neighbor who had no ice-house at
Ii always had plenty of ice. Tihe practice
f the latter was sin'ply to pile his ice in a
guaro body under a cow-shed having a
orthern exposure, the first layer of ice
eing rased above the ground so as to so
ure good drainage, and the whole covered
bickly with sawdust. Beards set on end
round the ice pile served t- keep the saw
ust in place. Thie gentleman referred to
ays: A pilQ. of ice six feet high, eight
eet wide and eight feet long wdit make
84 cubic feet. And this is enough for thu
se of an ordinary famnly for the table and
ai cool the cream, etc.. Six team loads fill
an Ice-house which contains about 400
ubic feet. The blocks should be cut as
mooth as possible and square, so they
vili fit closely, and then ice must be
hopped up fine and crowded in between
he pieces so as to mnaie a solid mass. The
loser the ice is pa4'ked, and~the more solid
he mass is united together, the better it
vill keep. When an ice-house is too close
here is a great deal of cordensation,
vhich makes the whole contentsi wet and
tripping, and'causes the ice to melt rap.
dly. The ace must be kept as dry as pos.
ible, one secret of keeping ice being
ilenty of- ventilation. The mnord ice there
s in a pile the better it will keep. A smal
luantity must be covered deeper and
hicker than a large ma. A large mass
wili almost keep itself. 1t does not re
iniare the protection of sawdust, but straw
>r a double wall of boards will be ample.
Ihvery person who makes butter ought to
avo ice. it will more than pay for use
a the dairy, and then for the family it la
luxury every provident man should sup.
>dy. .
-Decidedly the largest wheat fieldi
in the world are to be found in Wash
ungton Territory and Calfornia. T4p
Blaciulook Wheat fGrowing Company
of Washington Territoryv has in culti.
ration 00009 acres of wheat land.
ituatan Superstition.
Many are the fantasi.ical beliefs and curl
ous the remnants of paganian still deeply
rooted in the Russian peasant's daily lif.
They have their nymphs of the forest and
of the river; the spirits of their dead an
cestors haunt the dwellings of the living;
and every country baba with whom I over
cojversed has seen the "devil" at least
once in her lifetime, and Is able to give a
minute description of his appearance. Rich
and poor at thetime of baptism receive asmall
cross, which they wear for the rest of their
days round their necks, underneath their
clothing,--not merely as a badge of Chris
tiauity. but as an amulet to weaken the pow
er of the evil one. When sickness or mis
fortune conies, the peasant has recourse to
a witch-doctor, and goes through a variety
of pagan rites and incantationS to ward olf
the evil; his religion itself, his orthodox
church prayers, the glazed look he bends
on the painted ikon, the coun:,less genu
flexions and knockings on the church pave
ment with his brown and wrinkled fore.
head, all remind one rather of a negro ad
dreping his fetich than o! a Christian in a
house of prayer. Last Alarch the cattle
disease niade its appearance in the village
of Ozersk, government of kalooga, and
spread with alarming rapidity frem byre to
byre. The Zemstvo veterinary surgeon
lived sone miles away, and, instead of
seeking his advice, the peasants hung amu
lets, in the shape of little bags of garlic,
round their cows' necks, and jumped over
their prostrate fornis with one foot, holdtng
a censer with lighted incense in the oppo
site hand. These measures proving of no
avail they were seized by a panic, and
called together a village assembly, arguing
long and loudly as to the beat means of
frightening away the cattle plague. It was
decided that according to the traditions of
their forefathers, their women should march
round the village at dead of night, plow a
furrow in the sand, and so chase away the
plague. At eleven o'clock the men were
shut up by order of tue Starost, the women
and girls remaining out on the village
green. At the first stroke of midnight, a
girl, chosen from the band, placed a horse
collar over her shoulders, and allowesi her
self to be yoked to a wooden plow : two
girls behind her laid a hand under either
handle, two more took up the place of the
plowman and guided the plow, while an.
other marched in front, holding aloft a
miracle-working ikon. The plow was also
preceded by a widow with a basket full of
sand, which she strewea quickly as she
went along to mark the line where the
plow should make the furrow. Ao light
of any kind was to accompany them, and
yet should the furrow deviate to right or
left of the sandy line the charm would be
broken. Happuy for the success of the
undertaking the soil in Kalooga is black,
the sand white, and the night, let us hope,
was a moonlight one. Ap immense female
crowd followed in the rear, beating furIous
ly on kettles, stove lids, etc., und trying to
make their voice sound as like the howling
ut 0Uuu wmnu in a anuwaiurna as pu~siuu.
The procession marched first to the church
door, sang a weird, heathenish refrain,
went through the quick step and arm-waft
ing of an old national dance, and then
went on its way three times round the vil
lage from west to east. The ceremony
over, another widow, with a pot of tar,
made a black cross within a circle on every
door-post--a sacred sign which bars the
entrance of evil spirits.
nerosn of Lmitiouse Keepers.
It was a grand and heroic conception to
build a lighthouse on the Eddystone, but
what shall be raid of the men who first of
all tried the experiment of dweiling in the
horrible isolation of that storm-beaten
edifice, cut off from the rest of the world,
uncertain whether the building would stand
the test of the storm, deafened by the roar
of the waters which sometimes would shiodt
right over the lantern, or dash headlong
against the lighthouse with fearful vio
lence, causing every part to vibrate as
thoeughthecwho'efabilec were instan~t mnoously
going to pieces? I t is ireorded that only
two men attended~ the lighthouse built by
Rudyard, and that one was seized with
sudden illness and died. It was in the
roughest time of the year, and although
the survivor hoisted a signal of distress, no
boat could reach the rock. What to do
with the dead body he did not know. At
first he thought he would throw it into the
sea, but he was hindered by the fear lest
the friends of the deceasedi might charge
him with the crime of murder. For a
whole month the weather continued bois
terous, and for the whole month the soli
tary survivor kept the light all night now
that his comrade could no longer share
the duty, watch by watch, with him, and|
for that whole month he kept tihe .body ofI
the dead man, although it had fallen into
horrible corruption. Can any more terri
ble strait be conceived than that in which
the brave fellow was placed ? Yet we do
not even know lia name. All we know Is
that in almost every great work of public
utility involving hazardous labor, if one or
two men have comne to the front and left
their names for the admiration of posterity,
there have always been a hundred obscure
heroes who have lhved and died and loft no
sign, but without whose strong nerves and
great hearts those works would never have
been accomnplhed.
I he Yak.
To the Kirghiz the yak, or kash-gow
is as inv.milabie as the reindct r to the Lap,
lander, or, in another way, as the camel to
the Arab. Its milk Is rIcher, than that of
the cow, and its halh is woven into clothes
and other fabrics. Where a man can walk
a yak can be ridden. -t is a remarkably
sure-footed; like the elephant, It has a won
derful sagacity in knowing what will bear
its weight and in avoiding hidden depths
aDd 6.sms; and when a pass or gorge be
comecs blocked by snow (provided It be not
frozen) a score of yaks driven in front will
snake a highway. Tis strange creature
frequents the mountain slopes and their
levei summits; it needs no tenintg, and
finds its food at all seasons. If the snow
on the helghts lies too deep for him to find
the herbage, he rolls himself down tt.#
slopes and eats his way up aga'n, displac
ing the snow as lie ascends. When arriv
ed at the top he performs a second somer
sault down the slope,' and displaces a sec
ond groove of snow as lie eats hIs way to
the top again. Theo yak cannot bear a tem
perature above freezing, and in summer it
leaves the haunts of men arnd ascends far
up the mountains to the "old ice," above
the limits of perpetual snow, its calf being
retained below as a pledge for the mother's
return. which she novar faile. to do.
A Pleasanst Lie.
Recently, astranger whose appearance was
a dead give-away on his empty pockets,
entered an office In Exchange place, Do.
treit, and asked:
"Do I look like a missionary about to
sall for India?"
"No, air," was the prompt reply.
"That's right. I like people to be frank
with me. Do I look as if I could convert
any great number of heathens if I should
turn missionary?"
"No, sir."
"Good agtain. Would you advise me to
turn missionary?"
"No, air."
"Thanks. I see you are a bnsiness man.
I'm another. I came in here calculating
to tell you that I was a missionary about to
sail for India, and ask you for a small
donation. You wouldn't have given me a
cent, would you?"
"No, sir."
"That's plum, and it pleases me. Now,
then, I'll tell you the truth. I've no
money, nothing to do, don't want work,
expect to have a close rub this winter, and
will be much obliged for the loan of ten
cents."
"Can't spare it."
"Not even when I tell the truth?"
"No, sir."
"Then you don't care whether I lie or
tell the truth?"
"No, sir. I can't see how it affects me
any."
"Very well. It does me good to find a
frank, honest man, and on the whole, I'm
not disappointed. If you had lent me a
(lime it would have gone for whisky and
been wasted; if you had believed me I
should have lied to you, Seems as it you
might recommend me to soein one in
the block on whom a pleasant lie would
have effect; but I won't press the matter.
Au revoir!"
Curing Cancer*.
An eninvent doctor a the Eastern States.
was wont to boast of his skill in curing
cancers, and he invarlbly alluded to a most
difficult case lie treated in another town as
j "most remarkable case " and the doctor
would close his eyes in a seemingly jeep
reverie as he uttered the words, and then
Ie would repeat them two or three times in
gradually receding tones of voice, like the
falling cadence of a dying echo- "most re
markable case; most renqrkable case."
The old doctor's manner was such as. to
leave the impression that the cure was quite
as remarkable as the case.
On one occasion a gentleman who had a
cancer on his face, had pretty much made
up his mind to visit Now York for treat
ment, when he happened in to this Hart
ford, Conn. physician's office, and was so
impressed with the "remarkable case" that
lie concluded to be doctored at home, and
went to the doctor's office to make arrange.
ments for the operation. The doctor was
answered the bell, and the cancer patient
got into conversation with the lady, and
among other things Innocently asked how
that gentleman out in the country was get
ting along.
"What geutleman do you refer to ?"
quored-the doctor's wife.
"Why, that desperate case-that 're
markable case' which your husband al
ludes to so frequently."
"Oh," said the wife a little solemnly,
"lie's dead. He died during the opera
tion."
The man left word that he would call
again, and then took the next train to New
York. Here is a parallel case: A doctor
had discovered an infallible remedy against
the cauomer. He lately undertook a splen
did case, treated it splendidly, and buried
it ditto. While lecturing to his anatomical
class lie said:
"Gentlemen, I am going to demonstrate
to you, by the examination of the proper
organs, that my patient died cured."
Hisiorlo stones.
.The Trrunstein,or"Stone of Betrothal,"
dates from the time of Odin. It is a large
hole mn the rock of suficient dimensions
for a man to pass his hand through it and
graip another bn the other side. In the
Orkneys "lStandhing lStones of Stennis,"
there is a similar atone, which is called the
Stlone of Odin. Until the middle of the
Last century this atone was the witness of
betrothal, marriage vows, and solemn con
tracts, and whosoever violated the vow
"made to Odin" was avoided as infamous.
Children who were passed through the hole
were supposed to be insured against j.alsy.
The word Traun signifies "betrothed."
Those in the Orkneys were orlginallya semi
circle of tall uprightatones one sido of a lake,
and a sinilar group of circular pillars which
stood on the projecting promontory of the
adjoining lake. The atones were upward
of twenty feet high and of immense size;
between the two lakes was a narrow neckc
of land, and over this a curious bridge of
rough stones throwna into the formi of a
causeway. Besides the stones mentioned
there were the Logan stones, great pose. ..f
stones so cunningly fitted one upon another
that if the upper one were touched in a
certain spot with the finger it would move,
but no strength of a man could otherwise
move it. This was the trial stone which
could be made to show a person guilty or
innocent, as best suited the pagan priests.
Similar stones were remarked by Pliny,
A. D. 100, who mentiona one near Hiar
posa, which "might be moved by a fin.
ger," and P'tolemy, A. D. 160, says "The
Gygorian rock could be moved with a stalk
of asphodel.', The Logan stones in Corn
wall are well known. Astonishing yirtues
have been at tributed to small stones which
have a natural ho.. in them; these were
determined "holy stones," and wore some
times tied around the necks of cattle tC
charm away adders.
Egyptian T~emnpes.
All the great temples of Egypt whlet
have withstood the destructive tendences
of time and the assaults of man for foui
thousand years are of hewn stone. Bu
the only wood in or about them Is' in the
form of ties, holding the end of one ston4
to another on its upper surfaces. Whet
two blocks were laid un place, then it ap
pears that an excavation about an inel
deep was made in each block, into whici
an hour glass shaped tie was driven. It ii
therefore very difficult to force any stops
from its position. The ties appear to haye
been the tamuaik, or ohittim wood, a sa
cred tree in ancient Egypt, and now vera
rarely Ibunid in the vsy gf the Nile
Those dovoetal ties are J ft~'sonw5 nol
as on the day of their iS9rtp
BRIENRS.
-It is thirty years since Queen V16
torir was last in Ireland,
-London has'lately instituted Sun
day music infier public pars.
-Three million hogs have beenpack
ed in Chicago'since March 1st.
-Vermont with 804 mile's of rall W.i
track, killed but dhe passenger in. 179.
-During 1879 the valuation of tlge
state of Georgia has increased $14,000,.
000.
-Durham, N. C., expects to handle
18,000,000 pounds-6t this years tobacdo
crop.
-There are 1,000 pupils in the mias.
sionary Snnday schools of LucknoW.
India.
-The frat wagon-load of new pecans
sold in Dallag, Texas, for $1.75 per
bushel.
-There will be five colored members
in the newly elected Tennessee Leg
islature.
-The Canada Pacific Railroad is
finished Vu a point 165 .miles west of
Thunder Bay.
-A factory at Brookville, Jefferson
county, Pa., turns out 600 buckets and
800 tubs per day.
-The population of the worla, ao
oording to Dr. Behi and P'rof. Wag
ner, is 1,455,923,500.
-The first snow In England came
unusually early thi year-during the
third week in OGtober.
-Mine. Adelina Patti is receiving, it
Is said, $2250 a night during her en
gagement In Germany.
-Justices Clifford and Hunt, of the
United States Supreme Court, are in
Washington in ill health.
-W. W. Corcoran, the aged banker
of Washington, has, it is stated, giveh
away more than $3,000,000.
. -Over 2,000,000 baskets of pbaehes
were shipped over the Delaware Rail
.road during the past season.
-Th hop crop of Mendocino county,
Cal., this season is very large, and will
average 1,80JO pounds per acre.
-Mr, .McArthur, the new Lord
Mayor ofLondon, is said be the first
Irishman that filled the oillce.
--The sale of the Penny Testament,
the cheapest edition ever published,
has already reached nearly 400,000.
-For the first ten months of this
year 117,000,:00 bushels of wheat was
shipped from New York for Europe.
-William Sharon appears on the ad
sesment roll of San Francisco for $4,
470,000; James G. Fair, for $4,20D,000.
The rice crop of Louisiana for 1880 is
estimated at 250,000 -barrels. -Last
year's crop amounted to 100,000 bar
rels.
. -The Bible has been trahelated into
226 different languages and dialects for
purpose of foreign missionary
-The fourth centennial of Raphael's
birth, will be celebrated with great
splendor in Urbino, Italy, his birth
place.
-Robert the Devil, the great horse
of the English racing season, has won
for his owners, in stakes and bets,
$350,000
-Buddhism is on a rapid decline in
Japan. Since 1873, in a single district,
seventy-one temples have been diverted
to secular uses.
-Complete census returns from
Texas show that the state has a popu
lation at 1,505,483. The population in
1870 was unly 818,579.
-The lumbe~r shipments Irom the
Saginaw Valley during the season of
1880, thus far, have bep the largest
ever made in Michigau.
-Mr. Henry Clay, the grandjson 'of
the statesman, who joined the Howv
gate Expedition,intendcs to spend the0
winter at Rittenb'enk, Greenland,
-The damage done to shippi neon
the lakes on Oct. 16 amounted to s5,&00 -
000. Ninety-three people perished,and
there were Eeventceen totals wrecks.
--The Marquis of Dte intends to
erect a monastery for Elnglish anonks
on his property at Jerualem,and plans
have been prepared for a build ing* to
cost $20,000.
-In 1Roumelia the rose H arvest is
reported to have been an exceedIngly
abundant one this 'yeai', the value of
the total yield exceeding, it is estimat
ed, 1,000,000) francs.
--It is rumored that Count Wilhelm
Bismarok, son of the German Chan
cellor, is to be married w9ethe Countess
Irma Andrassy, daughter, of the fa
mous Austrian statesman.
--There were exported from New
York during the year ending: June 30
last 31,061,010 pounds oftbutter, v~iued
at $5,189,071, and 19,833,830 pounds of
oleomargarine, valuedt at $2,581,317.
-The greatest feat in the way of
rapid railway making is said to be that
of8irlt.Tiemple in the lateAtfghan eami
paign. One hundred and thirty miles
oz railw ay was constructed in 101 days.
-The Italian Minister of Agriculture
and Commerce has dieided to present
to A'arliament a project for executing a
gret eolglalmap of the Kingdom .
The epense iscalculated at 0,000,000)
--The August earnings of the Central
Pacific railroad were nearly $800),000
in excess of the same month last year.
There has been a gain of over $1,250,
(100 thus far this year as compared with
the same time last year.
-MI. Dronter has patented in Ger
many a process for rendering bronzo
as malleable as copper. A bout one per
cent of mnercuryv is added to-the tin ina
a warm state, and this is then. mixed
with phe melted copper.
-When a peni has bedoino o'brr.oded
as to be usolea,it can l I gaa od~c as
ne w by holiiing it in the neriof a gas
jet for haif a uantti ajll drop it in
coid water, take o'ut, WieO~ c Loan,and
It will be ready for use again.
-The house di relug9 on, tile tog of
Mouint'St. Gothard, tounded Ib the
fouteonth century, will b4 petmanae it.
ly oiid twoycal's hence. T1,he opening
of the tianoei will reat it uselcess as
fiot oven* beggar4 Will theti cross 'the
mountain onzoot.-.
-From $100,000 to 42,000,000 worth
of b~irs'i1e~c are y'earl htligte d into
tChntd# sh~a comua~ from
Ya cost