The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, February 03, 1881, Image 1
TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., FEBRUARY 3, 1881. VOL. I.-NO 172.
"THEY 8AY."
"They say I" Ah, well; suppose they do,
But can they prove this story true I
Suspicoons may arise from naught
out mallos, eniy, want of thought ;
Why oount yourself among the "they.
Who whisper what they dare not say ?
" They say I" but why the tale rehearse,
And help to make the matter norae P
No good oan possibly soorue
From tolling what may be untrue:
And U3 it not a noble plan
To speak of all the best you can ?
" They say " well. if it should be so,
Why need you tell the tale of woe ?
Will It the bitter wrong redress,
Or make the pang of sprrow less?
Will it the erring one restore
Henceforth to " go and sin no more ?"
"They say I" Oh I pause and look within;
gee how thy heart ir, pa% to kiu ;
W.atoi, lest in dark .b A. s hour
Thou, too, should slp C-A. 'ts power.
Pity the frail ; weep 6 f ... fall,
But speak of good, or not at all.
The Obstructed Track.
Above the fair girl who looked out of a
small dormitory window shone countless
stars; sh3 might have seen Bootes and Or
ion had she looked up, but that night the
worlds of heaven had no attraction for her.
She was listening to a strange sound
borne fron the west by the nocturnal breeze
that chilled her cheek. "I believe It is
Gwynno's Cut," she said at last, to herself.
"Perhaps some villain is obstructing the
track for devilish purposes. The Red Bird
will so-)n be due,. and this Is' Ed's trip
down."
The moonbeams stealing in at the win
dow, fell on the face of the dial and told
Viola that It was 12 o'clock.
Twelve," she murmured. "What 12
o'clock, and he whistles to me at half-pastl
My heavens I What If the track ts -ob
structid lk the cut V"
With the last word on her lip, she turned.
and soon left the house.
At the gate she paused a moment and
listened. The stars looked down upon a
little object that glittered like silver in Vi
ola's hand.
She was the towar tha t county s ne m
ahkted. Her father was dead, and, with
her widowed mother, and a little brother
eof twelve, she dwe s'h the hu mble house
won by the sweat of her father's brow. A
railway station calld Beaumont, Was the
only settlement near, and it was six miles
oknher homne.
Ntat engmne toward that great city on
iatsipp's bank. They recalled the
"A pryear since, when the first engine
she h, ever seen bad stopped at Baumont,
scarcely a station then. - The engineer was
young and handsome; as he saw her ex
* uoining the great driving wheeh', and
looking with wonderment upon the mighty
beauties ohIron pet, he leaped to the
ground.
"A pretty piece of machinery," said he
to her, "and she goes hike a bird."
the blushed when she caught his eye,
and the sound of his voice thried her.
A week later she found herself at the sta
tion talkine to im ahin. By and by Ft.
Giolaatlatoehe the rcrrio awpicur
ther himello anonVlas feured auseay
Bou to mmgthightonthednight wtrctVdoth
tract hefrhoe tor antgt the soundsr
the atlemed ocmel robi Gwyne held
hiol brat. lat eahe the occknt whch
thet tmellousw mondberamsflk, hand ocaused
a number of precious minutes. The shrieks
of the Red Bird would soone be heard, and
a moment thereaftter'lls headlight would
llash inte thme cut or gorge. She saw more
than a pile of strong ties on th~e track. Shie
saw the dark figure of a manimoving about
among thei ipyramidls, as If contemplating
his night's work, and speculating upon the
death and ruin It would cause. She
watched until she believed that one man
had accomlished the dialicaeml deed, and
- then she crept forward through the shadowm
of the 'bushes that lined the side of tihe cut,
until she stood within ten feet of hhnu.
"I'll go back to the station, now," she
/ heard him say to him'nself. "I can got
there before tihe accident; a1m( when it cc
eirs, why I can run up there and see him
tIbJ['the ruin s of his engine, so crushed
that tihe doll'faced girl will not recognize
Thme last words, full of devil's triumph,
dgtilh quivered on his lips, when Viola step
6dpd fromt the shadows andI thruist the miuz
aM~ le of her revolver unto his face.
"This is your mevenuge, Morgan Duke,"
she said, look~ing sternly into his eyes.
"Now, obey my commrands, or there will
be a lIfeless body on this tr-ack, 'to be0 mini
gled among thme ruins of the night express.
To work at once; off with your coat, anid
~, remove every obstruction your wicked hands
S have placed there.')
"The3 train can't be saved now," lie said,
~' and there was joy in his tones. "It took
me one long hour ta obstruct the guard.
In twenty minutes or less, perhaps, you'll
see the Bed Bird's headlight up the cut.''
"Villain I" she cried, "If tie track is
not clear when I see her headlight, I'll
drive a bullet through your orain. You
know what to do., ll talk no longer."
Hie worked for' dear life, for he knew
when thae thundering train was 4uer. and a
glance at the airl on& the track told ima
that she -would surely kill hun If he (lid not
do her bidding.
She said to him : "I never thought this
of you, Morgan Duke. When I rejected
you I thought you* woui bear it lke a
i)."
lie replied not, but gtnced at his watch.
"Half-past twelve," he said.
"To work I" was the stern command,
and Viola stepped forwird and brought
the revolver nearer his head. -
"I can't get then out," he_ said.
"You must, "was the reigy.
"I drove them in a with sledge.''"
"I did not hear the sound."
"It was deadened with my coaL."
The girl's face grew paler than ever, and
she glanced fearfully up the cut.
"Take them out I" she said suddenly
"the train is coining. I hear it."
Tie -villainous station nusstnr heard the
rumbling and again turned to the ties.
"You have your choice," Viola said to
him. "A bullet or an unobstru :I track."
She watched him as a won.a never
watched a man before. She knew that lie
was doing all that could be done to undo
his wicked work, and while she watched
het heart grew still. beneath the rumble of
the express.
"He'll soon oall mue," she said to her
self. "'here 1 there "
The familiar shrieks cleft the cool Octo
ber air, but they brought no joy to her
heart. She was not at the old window be
side the light lie loved to hall from his en
glue. Perhap, she would be the JIrMt to
kiss his cold brow beneath the stars at
Gwynne's Cut. 8he almost shouted for 1
joy when she saw the first tie drawn from
tue guard by the desperate man.
"Quick I the sledge I break the guard I"
she cried.
''God, I never thought of that,' lie said,
and the next moment he was shattering
the long guard with the heavy sledge.
At that the tie was broken, and he thrust
the other ties down into the long opening
he had made.
At that moment the train, rounding the
curve, lashed into the cut, and the flashing
headlight, not twenty teet away, almost
blinded the eyes of the twain.
Morgan Duke stepped from the track.
He looked up and beheld the gleam of tri
umpli in the girl's eyes. In an instant a
grim look of resolve settled on his face.
On, thundeuing came the traim. He sprang
forward and the next instant it disappeared
in the wo6ds leaving Viola alone with the
mangled remains of her rejected lover.
With tears in her eyes she bent over the t
shapeless mass. How copld she fail to t
life
The next day brought Ed. Gordon to her i
side and none too soon, for the poor girl t
was almost pr-Atrated with the excitement s
of the night.
. The company presented Viola with a
beautiful house, when her husband took
charge of the car shops. I know she will
never regret her night in Gwynne's Out
with her rejected lover. 8
Mir. Heffner's Bsibes.
"Yes, it's so," said the man.
"Oh, John, you must be mistaken," re
plied his third wife. .
"Well, I tell you it's s0; 1 ought to
know," was.the emphaic rep~ly of JohnI
Heffner, who lives on Maple street, be
tween Chestnut and Spruce, Reading, Pa.
A reporter had called upoii Mr. Hcfefi'
to learn the correct history of lis much
talked-atbout grea', brood of forty-one chil-<
dren.
Hlefner is sj arngly built, smokes a I
short pipe, and makes a living in the rag
business. lie is sixiy-five years old and~ a
hans a pleassanit smiile and cheerful greeting
for all friends. The story of the man's I
married life, as related by himnself, is pr'ob
ably the most remarkable one on recordl. a
H-e was born iin Germany in 1815. Wient
twenty-five years old-in 1840-lie iaiar
ried his first wife, who lived eight, years.
She became the miothier of seventeen chii
dIren ins that time, having twins in the first
year of their marriage, Th'ie next year anm
othmer pair of twinms were born. Each suc
ceeding year for four years thereafter Mrs.
R eft ner becamie the mnothei- of triplets. Trho
seventh year was signalized by the birth ofj
only one eldiil. Mrs. Heliner (lied andi was
laid away in the village church-yard
in Germany. TIhe wliower had~ now a
family of seventeen children, the oldest,
only seven years of age. Three months
thereafter a young lady took charge of time
children, andi in course -of time she lhe-.
came the secondi Mrs, liefiner. The first
wife dliedl in February, 1848. In February,
1819,, this second wifle presentedi Mr. hifef
iier withs a boy, On Onristmas Day of the
same year the ninetoeenh child was addedc~
to the Hleffnerilock. The family was now
larger than any other in that part of the
country. Five years passed by, and Mr.
Ileiluer's household was increased by the
addition of tea muore children-a pair of
twins being born every year. There wvas
now a lull, andi for three years thmereafter
only one child was borna unto thems. In
1854 lie came tc this counitry with lisa famn
ily, and the last three children were born
in America. Inm 18571 his wife diecd,
having been married nine years.
He was now the father ot thirty-two chil
dren, twelve of whom had died, leaving
twenty to be taken ia charge by a widIow
whom lie niarried in 1858. Mrs. Hetiner
No. 8 had one child by a previous imar
riago. Bhe became the mother of nine
more children m ten years by single birth.
His last, or third wife, Is still living. .None
of the first set of seventeen chlkren sui
vive. Two of the fifteen of the second
wife's children still live, and three of the
third wife's nine. In a period of twenty
eight years-from 1840, when he first mar
ried, to 1768, the date of the birth of his
last child-he became 'he father of forty
one children. Th'le five who are still lhv
ing are girls. With the step-child added
to the list, forty-two children have called
John Hlefridr 'ufather." TCh'old man has
liong since forgotten the names of' hism.
'merous progeny, aund can ofily recall those
born in lato yaara.
Saddle ntoraes.
'-"o the man who travels over the face of
the earth, mIgrating from country to coun
try, nothing will appear as more extrome
in the manners of the different people he
Comes in contact with than their various
methods of riding horses. While the Arab
is the ancient ideal of a perfect hoiseman,
yet our own country probably furnishes as
great variety and styles of horsemanship
us all the nations of the world put together.
Let us take a hasty glance lit the dilfereut
patterns our country affords : in Mexico,
Texas, and the extreine Siouthern States
the style of riding is quite unique. On the
other side of the Mississippi river a suitable
costume is quite intlispensuble. The bridle
is arined with a curb bit of terrible leverage.
The saddle bears an immense pomiel to
ease the strain of the lariat or the elbows
of the sleepy rider. A comiion buckled
girth would never do In such scientific rid
ing. The broad hair band is tightened
with i cunning twist from a long, loose
strap that has been "sprung" upon until
the band is as tight as wax. We are all,
at least in pictures, familiar with the broad
sombrero, slashed breeches, and large silver
spurs with their attached ''jingles." This
rider in his appointments and horseman
ship is certainly worthy of much admira
tion, for lie al ways looks at home and grace
ful when lie tries to be, even on the most
veritable plug of a mustang. It is seldom,
however, that his charger calls forth any
Lhing but a feeling of pity from the edu
oated horseman. The native breed of
Aiose sections Is a long way off from the
Ideal saddle horse of the middle States.
[n Tennessee, Kentucky and Virginia we
probably see the art of horsemanship, both
i its relations to horse and rider, carried
o a higher standard than in any other part
f the world. Here we find the horse bred
or generations under the most enlightened
ules for breeding, and with the sole pur
L)osu in view of making him the perfection
A a sadd u horse. In physical leatures lie
,8 a model of the artist. In gaits his vari
ty is Infinite-a rapid walk, fox trot, rack,
rot, lope,and run, changing from one to an
ther at a practical signal from the rider.
In temper perfect, quick and comnprehien
ive. This is a point . which no one but
,he practical rider can appreciate. . The
iridle lines are actually useless with him.
!. slight bending of the body forward in
orms him you wish the gait quickened;
aettling firmly back in the saddle inLimates
o him to slacken the gait, a slight bending
>f the body in the saddle, a little pressure
>f the opposite knee, and perhaps an un
:onscious motion of the bridle hand in the 1
lirection you wish to turn is all the man
igemnent he needs. Tho lines are never
)ulled to turn him right or left, but pressed
igainst the side of the neck opposite the
lirection you wish to turn. Leaning for
vard 14 the saddle puts him in a fast or
ox trot. To pull hun in a rack the bridle
eins are pulled taut, while the heels bring
lie spur pressure to his sides. To make
iim trot, the reins and heels are let loose,
he handls pressed upon the withers, and
heo dytglight)N rq *gjj." Uads'ni
anter or lope settle in the saddle and wave
>nc hand in the air. These are not the
uventions of a single individual, but the i
toiversal custom among those who train
addle horses in the States named.
We now come to the rider of t[his perfected i
addle horse. He sits in his scat with an i
asy, comfortable grace that shows him I
amiliar with it from earliest boyhood.
he stirrups 1re so long that his toes barely
est with cas< in them, while his heels turn
lightly outward, relieving his appearance
>f extremi awkwardness that is often seen
n rider' whose toes point at right angles
vith thp horse's sides. These horaes are
horoughly bitted when young and thus
aught to carry a high and sty lish head, so
hat -when. in full motion, with the favorite
;ait, a rack, and bestrode by his auit-rb
ider, the whole makes a picture that chal
enges our highest admiirationi.
AifonsoO's Flanfly.
With the annual close of the bull ring
oincides every autumn the second race
neeting of the year in Madrid. Jlust as
lie bull fight, is the popular amusement,
nar excellence, where the people revel inl
11I the fierce exclteuient, the good humor.
dl jollity, the pleasant equaity that miakes
lie young grandee sit close to the coninon
nuleteor or workmnan, the horse races are
liastimne where the upper classes fancy
hey amusing themselves because it is fash
oiiable, anid the miulutude stared In uiidis.
tliised astonishnient at the rows of hand1(.
oime carrmagt~s andl drags flilled with ladies
md gentlemen who are betting and making
100oks during several hours. The multi
ude emnly evinces 5011ne interest when the
'ace actually takes place, and the jockeys
n their blue, yellow or black ard white
ackets incite more curiosity than the
iorses. Your Bpanmard can not admllire the
lno, active, slim, thoroughbred hrirso, as
dia ideal of a steed is an Andalusian crossed
w~ith Arab, piraucinig, curvetting, stepping
alowly to display its showy tail, rounded
ormi and~ heavy curved neck. What Cais
ilians doe begin to like in the races Is that
t, alffords a dhouble oppprtunity for sight
teeing aucl for gamlinilg. Thme agencies
~or pools5 are besieged with natlves shtsu:
ng and asking lckets with the aname of
hle favorites, and the moat forward ini the
sew spo~rt bet andl make bets with a st
snd fury worthy of Longchamips In Paris~
ar of E'psomi Downs on a Deorby dhay. Thle
Nfadrud race course is beautifully situated
it the extremity of the litcoletos and Cait
tellaaua driveb Ia a sort oaf hollow plain sur
rounded by rising ground and~ hillocks that
afford for the nansses a nattmal aimphitheca
tre oaa whaich they stand by thousnaids on
foot and in every imaginable vehicle.
Down below, near the course, are four
handsome' stone and wooden standI suport
ed lay light iron coluns ad with Iron
railed terraces rIght andi left of the royal
p~avllion that is the cnter of thae paddock.
The stands are crowded with bourgeoise
aind young mn eagerly sturrounmd the
"4poule" agency, but the center of thme at
tiaction Is thme paddook and great, tribune
near thme royal pavilion. T1hiere muster iii
force the belles of Madlrid society in ele
gant tolects, vielaig wIth the ladies oif the
dilplomlatic corps ; mInisters, juidges, gen
erals, dlepuitles, baiakea s, grand(ees, young
aristocrats, and busy plutocrats have all
come ther,e to bet anad imuchi merrily, and~
there is as much flirting going on there as
in every -gathering of bladrid high life.
King Alionso himself leaves the young
queen and theo princess In the pavilion and
mingles with the distinguished crowd, now
discissing horse-flesh with Duke Fernian
Nunies, Marquis V. llamejomr or Mr. Day
Ie. the owners of the best, studs, or ox -
Aianging amiable remarks with his lovely
sibjects, who are over anxious for a smile
ol their gallant young Monarch. In fact,
in the paddock you meet every one that is
kiuown in the world of fashion, polities or
fit.ance, unless, indeed, soei have remain
ed to brave the keen bla9ts from you blue
mountains and snUow-capped peaks from
the tops of mail coaches and Daumonts,
magnifisently got up, with their liveried
servants and fours-in-hand.; Between the
third and fourth race there ts a long pause
for lunch, and then I went from the pad1.
dock to a hospitable coach, whore, a4 in
01, pates de folc yras, pasties of venison
and boar sandwiches were duly honored
b the strong sex. Beautiful eyes, under
qaint, poky hats and inousquetahe
" ques," flashed merry glances after
sp rkling champagne and hook had been
hamded round profusely. The bell rang
buttoo aoon, and back to the paddock we
strode for the last event. The shades of
eveiling were over the Castellana, crowded
by thousands of persons who wished to
see the return, when we 4rove back to
Madrid amid a scene of anination in
strets and promenades only surpassed,
perhaps, by the road to the bull-ring on
Sundays.
F shionable Vanreis ana Toes.
The idle, fashionable woman has taken
to a upw diversion. She polishes her nails.
She extends her hand to you with great
frequency nowadays, and always with the
back upward and the fingers straightened
out. That is because alt wishes you to
observe the nails, which sune like glass
and are of a delicate pink hue. Who
knows what started this mania? Nobody
can ever discover the oriilu of such things.
The distemper breaks out somehow, and
then extends from person to person. The
New York woman of leisure, whether she
be lof I in the city or is to be found at sonic
near seashore resort, now spendsabout four
hours a day at work on her sails. Her
tool is an article somewhat like the wooden
handles or holders for blotting-paper--a
narrow strip of ebony, ivory or Inuia-rub.
bor, with a knob on one aide and a surface
A chamois skin on the 6tber. Some of
liese polishers are fancifully made, and
10 is not an unusual price; but cheap
:nes do the work as well, and a home
nade article answers the purpose. The
best of them have a device for haudily
fastening in fresh strips of chamois skin,
but tacks will do. The essentials are a
polishing substance and plenty of industry.
&, mixture is sold in the stores at a pretty
ugh price, and it has a beautiful name and
abel, but is a simple compound of rotten.
itone, oil and rouge. Anybody can mix
t for herself. The stuff is daubed on the
rubber, and assiduous friction does the
eaL The rotten-stone and oil smooth and
polish the nails, just as metal, bone and
*ory are made to shine by thu workmen,
mad the rouge imparts a pinkish color. The
n.busiastic industry displayed by the
women in this amusement is wntrsar
l'hey rub, rub, by.the bou-.. iI.wift'e the
nace of iedlework. There was once an
>ld woman who scrubbed her kitchen loor
mutil she fell through Into the cellar, break
ng her back. Something like that will
iappen to these nail polishers, for nails
munot thicken as fast as they are now be
ng scoured away. The polishing is not
di done on finger nails. Oh, no. The
oe-nails of the belles are beautiled, too.
What'is the use of spending time and labor
n making their toe-nails pink and glossy ?
Nell, some of them have husbands, bear in
nind. Time was when the female bather
id the corns, bunions and little unshapil
ioes of her teet in slippers, or stuck them
)ut of sight into the sand when not in the
water. The attractiveness of the burnished
iails are deemed by her to more than com
esa.e for any blemishes, and so she takes
ptaius to show her feet. The change is a
narked feature in the surf scenes, where
hiousands of woemn sire in the water every
iternoon. Manny of them have been seen
sitting on the sand with their toe-nails
)roudly glistening in the sun.
The increased attention to nails has na
~urally extended to thieir shape, anid the
greatest care is bestowed upon the matter
f cutting them. Long and narrow nails
ire considered prettiest, and to give thenm
he desired prop~ortion they are trimmed
somewhmar to a point, while at the roots the
skIn Is puishted and cut back as mnuca as
possible. Gloves are not worn at all, even
at the full-dress balls. Mlitts of all colors,
rromi white through the whitest hues to
plain black, extentted from tihe elbows to
lihe knuckles, leaving the fingers exposed.
Thmere is all the niore reason, then, for reii
lering those fingers sightly. Rteally beau
iful ingers, if you will take the trouble to
aonvinice yourself by observation, are scarce
Lndeed-mnuch more so than handsome
faces. The plump beauty usually has fin
gers as blunt at the ends as drumsticks,
while the fingers of her etherially slender
mister are about as bony as a skeleton's.
IThus it is a good year for pretty fingers
that do not need a tight glove to squeeze
them into shape. Rings are more than
sver in vogue. Bangle m ings with jinglets
to them are ab~out the only novelties in that
Line.
Art Ta'eaqures ot the Britisn Mussutn.
TFhe hIdden treasures of .the B;ritishsn mu
scum are soons to be exiitesd. A timely
bequest falls in to enable thme trustees, who
possess jewels, to acquire jewel cases, and
to imake the Greek antiquilles, which re
mainzed for so many centuries b~uriod near
Athens, and for so manny years burled near
Bedlford Square, open toJ pulilc tidmniration.
I he dlifliculties of obtaining access to tihe
print room will now, p~erhmaps, disappear,
anid tihe lIberal mnangemntar whicas has
made the readling room a source of comfoart
and instruct ion be extended to other (do
psartnmients. T1hmare is somnethinig p ~Culiarly1
averse, as the Daily News rommanks, in ai
set, of regulations that, admiit the punblc t(c
take dIown, handle and copy from valuable
books and at the same time suirrounid tie
inspection of prints with restrictions and
formalities. 1t is only a few mnonths sinc4
the trustees sold oif a portion of tihe rares
prints, of which they had dutplicates, i:n
order to acquire a collection of extraordm
ary local interest. That thme building ii
Bloomnsbury should be literally congeste(
with treasures has long beeni a kind of sttu
pid national boast. TIhe $300,000 left b3
the White bequest will be well spent in al
lowing-Londoners to enjoy what they havy
so long arid so frumtlessly possessed.
- he funded deur. of Paslladelphia lI
$.0,970, n41,
-'herei are 800,000 fewer acros umn
I dar wheat in Engm mnd than In 1874.
antautaeoo Photography.
Tihe process of instaintaneous photo.
graphy, as perfected recently in L.nton
and In this cotantry by ltockwood, has re
stilted In natny changes in the mode of
taking: ordinary'photograplhv and has er.n
larged the field 'of photography by brig
lug witbio-1t the woi'k'of picturing objects
in ihotioal. Tho'history of the instattane
ous process of photography is, like that of
all other inventions, full of failures. The
gelatine used instead of collodion as a
nedium for the chemicals employed in
making negatives is a delicate substance,
the manipulations of 'which need great ex
perience and judgment; its proper pro
para tion is so tedious that it Is not probable
that photographers will attempt to prepare
their own plates as at ptaent, but will buy
them ready prepared, in large quantities,
the plate being dry and practically inaltera
ble. 'The golatine is first boiled for many
hours, then nilixod with tho necessary salts
of silver and potassium then passed through
selve-liks clolhs, washed In water to ex
tract the excess of chemicals, boilel again
for a (lay and then spread on the glass
plates. Even the ninutest care n )roor
tions and treatment results in plates of dif
ferent quality. Some plat6s are too sensi
Live and become black, even attor an ex
posure of a fraction of a second : others do
not give clear pictures. 6o rapid is the
fifect of light that the motion of the hand
has been found to be too slow, and a pneu
matic device has been introdluced by which
the slight pressure of a rubber bulb throws
up a disk which covers the aperture of the
camera and brings it down again. In Mr.
Rookwood's studio a lung tube goes fron
the camnera to any part of the room, the
bulb which ends it being carriedl in tile
operator's hand. When he sees a g<.od
expression or position on the part of the
sitter he squeezes the bulb, no matter in
what part of the roomn he may be, and the
pictuic is taken. But even tIis pLe .imatie
(isk is not rapid enough for pictures taken
out of doors. For this purpose a woden
s.ide is used with a round hole in it. As
the slide falls the opetiung passes time
camera aperture and gives a view of the
scene, which lasts for awout the hnudreth
.part of a second. In pictures taken at the
Battery by this process of gelatine coating
and slides the fluest ropus on ships, stoain
boats going at full speed are as distinct as
if the boats had been at rest, and each
wave was distinctly pictured as it was at
that fraction of a second.
For artists the instantaneous process of
fers the most valuable kind of aid. No
matter how animated a scene it can be
photographed as easily as a tableau. A
-all-room with dancing going oi, the
musicians fiddling, people talking, laugh
ing and yawning,can now be phout graphed
with ease. Rogers, the sculptor, ms usLed
the process to take pictures of ahletes
struggling. The men struggle without
any %hougi of the camera, and when they
get througih there are a half dozen niCturva
iogers as effective. All he had to do was
to squeeze his rubber bulb and the thing
was done. IHerses trotting "nd cows
grazing are easily taken. One picture
taken recently represents live pigs ieding,
one old fellow scratching his back as he
gazes stolidly at the camera. A cat and
her kitteins imake a pretty group.
In taking childreu ani very old persons
the advaunages of this process are invalua
ble. The child is allowed to move Buut
until it takes a good position, when the
picture is made. Old people who dislike
the ordeal of sitting are photographed be
fore they know it, all such things as head
rests and prPS being done away with.
Pictures of portions lamthing are full of
life, and it may be said of all pictures
taken by the instantaneous pr icess that the
still, unnatural expression alUost un
avoidable when a person is obliged to sit
with head propped up, staring at a camera
for half a minute is done away with. In
the opinion of many persons it will not be
long before photographers' head-rests wihl
be sold for 01(d irOn.
Another Good Boy.
A Detroit grocer was the other day hun
grily waiting for his clerk to return from
dinner and give lan a chance at his own
inooniday meal, when a boy caime into the
store withi a basket in his hand and said:
"1 80e(d a boy grab up tis 'ere basket
fromi the (door and run, andi I ruun after hn
andl made nimc give it up."
"My lad, you are an honest, boy."
"y es, sir."
"Amid you look like a good boy."
"Yes, sir."
"Aiid goodl boys should always he en
couraged. .In a box In thme back room
there are eight dozen eggs. You imay take
them home to your mnother a .d keep the
basket."
'rue grocer had been saving those eggs
t'or (lays andl weeks to reward some one.
In rewarding a good boy he also got eight
dlozeni bad eggs carried out of the neighbor
htoodi free of cost, and lie chuckled a little
chuck as he waliked homewards.
The alternoon wanedi, nighit cama and
went, and once more the grocer we it to
his dinner. Wheni lie returned he was
picking his teeth and wearing a comnpla
cent smile, ills eye caught, a basket of
eight (dozen eggs, as he entered the store,
and lie qlueried:
"Beenc buying some eggs?"
".Yes; got, hold of those from a farmer's
boy," replied the clerk.
'-A lame boy with a blue cap coni"
'"Two front teeth out?"
"Yes.''
Tame grocer sat (lown amt examined the
eI Ta''me shells had beeni ,vahed cleani,
1)umt they were thme same eggs that govil boy
hadl lugged home the day nef ore.
IVomenm on the eonich.
Scome years ago thme emmnent lawyer
hienry W. Paine, of Massachusetts tried
a case for a lady client, but, (lid not receive
a decision in lisa favor, although justice and
equiity would have warranted it. As lie
andc~ his client were leaving the Court-room,
tihe lady, who is well knowna as an exponent
of womaa's rights, said to hun:
"That, was rank injustice."
- "Certainly, mradami," Mr. Paine replied.
"Mr. Palane," the lady continued, "when
- we wommen get a chance to sit on that
i bench, such 'Injustice will not be possi
ble."
. 'With one of lisa rich, rare smiles the
great law yer said:
Madam never expect to see a greater set
- of old women than are at present on the
Miassanhneattu hMuniremo Onurt banch.
A Itello of General Jackson.
Thu elegant and hospitable mansion of
an accomplished and hospitable Creole
goutleman,Mr. Louis Barthelemy Macarte,
vho acted as Secretary to Gov. Claiborne
previous to the year 1814. was the head
qiartje's of General Jackson. Air. Alacarte
wasa lAcheker, and dispensed a hheral
hospitality in his old planter's house,which
was justly regarded as second only in its
appoint ment and luxurious style to another
mansion, which tronted on the river sev
eral squares lower down,and known as the
Bosque house, more modernly as the
Mlarigny house, which now stands in a
good satQ of preservation. This, and not
khe Alacarte house, was the place of so
jout'n of GUn. Jackson when he was not
becupying his first headquarters, 110 Royal
street, and his other headquarters, the
Montgomery house, which also still
stands well preserve( within one
hundred yards of the Chanette monu
ment. The Bosque houso was, at the thune
of the war, occupied by Gov. Claiborne,
who had married the famous beauty, Miss
Bosque, for his second wife. As the Gov
ernor of the State, Gov. Claiborne insisted
upon Gen. Jackson sharing his hospitality
whilst not engaged in the field, and it was
hero, and not at the old batridden mansion
now being torn down, that the General
made his chief sojourn and headquarters.
Being in feeble enith and worn down
with his many cares and responsibilltips,
he found no little relief and recuperation
of his nearly exhiastled energies from the
kind and gentle attentions and nursing of
the Governor's beautiful young wife, who
wais a lue liusiciatn and skilled in all the
arts of the most. refined hospitality and in
all pleasing accomphisamnuts. Jackson,
who waas always graceful and captivating
in his attentions to ladies, when the British
had retired fiom our soil, after an inter
viaw with the Governor, in which he had
taken ocoasion to exples his gratitude and
high appreciation o ti he Governor's ,ervices
in riding hin in the defense of the city,
porceivmig.Mme. Claiborne enter the par
for, advanced to ward her, and, with a pro
found bow, in earnest tones, remarked:
"Madame, to you, more thian to even his
Excellency, I owe tle greater portion of
whatever of vigor, courage and spirit I
have been able to carry Lltis campaign to a
successful conclusion. My poor, weak
fratme could not have kept up under such
a pressuro but for your kind nursing and
incessant care and attention."
This lady news lives at Nice, in Italy,
an octogenarian, the survivor by niwiy
years of two distinguished husbands. Some
years after the death of Gov. Claihorne
she married the great lawyer, John It.
GIymnes. She will leave at her death a
large number of descendants by her two
husbands. The other nausion, in which
Jackson spent most of hia. time while en
gaged in the defenac of the city, was the
Montgomery house, as it was thon called
frmn ijA owner. JW. W. Montgomery, a
and granid-ohua.. :: -- -- and n
their elegant hotel in the Fauboigwt.
Honoro. Thu house is well preserved,and
bears several marks of the severe boi.
bardient, to which it was exposed during
the stege of the city. It has, in the upper
story, an old dormiter window, in which a
large telescope was established by a French
imechanician, by means of which t,he Gen
eral was enahled to reconnoiter and watch
the euniy throughout his extended cinMp
and lines. Notwithistaiidimg the power of
this instrument and its constant, use, the
British managed to evacuate their position
with so much earo and skill as to complete
ly deceive the Geieral and his stair, who,
finding sentinels posted through and in
front, of the camp, wIould not credit the ru
mor of their departure until Geun. lium
burt, an old French l epubhl can, General,
the same who invaded Ireland in 1798,aid
defeated the British at Castlebar, was call
ed into consultationl Tlaking an observa
tion tnroughi the telescope the G:neral ex
claimed. ''aore redeoaisil Tney are gone.
Thilir sentinels are what, you caLII dhumies~L.
See how near the crows' fly to thema " And
so it proved. Tlhie Bitish hlad departed in
secrecy and silence, and were cautiously
working their way through the swamps
back to their ships.
nats Loat -resuigo.
The prisoner in cell No. 1 was making a
great noise ns Court opened~ recently in
D~etroit, and lie wvas therefore brought, out,
tirst. Hie was a stout, thick-set mian with
short, hair iand milk white eyes, and lhe be
lieved hinself to be a miountain lion ot thie
fiercest order. He caime out, on a (lance,
with a half-concealed war-hoop in Is teeth
and Bijath rather expected he would raise a
fuss.
''Is your name William 111ll?" aoftly in
quiredl the Court.
'"01d tman, you bet!'" was the ready ro
ply.
"'See here, Willitam," continued hits
Ihonor, "'t'is Court is not an od1 nia
neither doth lie bet,. Don't make use of
auny more mucli language. Now, thien, you
were drunk yesterdiay."
"You beth'
"Prisoner, ti court dloeban't bet, and if
it has to inform you of that fact again, it
may have to add sixty days to your senm
tence. D~o you pleadl guilty &r iiot gimil
ty?'
"Jedlge, I was dlruniker'n a beer bar'l.I
was flghting drunk. I was j ust in the eon
dttiont to chiaw up half the police force In
this one-hoise four-cornters. Jedge, let
me1 out long enough to flap my wings and
give ia crow which caun be heard four miles
magin a stilt wmtdl'"
"'William Hill, I think I know what ails
you, ' qjuietly remarkead the c uimt after
looking himt over. ''You atre aciming to ftall
against, somie consumpnitive Detroiter, abhott
nyve feet who wid aih you flatter tana sole
leather. You evidently thtinik yourself a
tarantulai, but you atu nothing bitt a rab
bit. Instead of being a terror, you are a
musaBmnce', and I shmall send( yOur to thle Work
liouse "
-Judge, I'mi from Arkansas, and I toll
you l'm dangerons."
"Pool i shall send you up for thirty'
(lays, thme samte as anty eonnon dIrunkard."
''Don't disgrace mie, Jud~ge. Make it
sIx months, at least. Think of the' story
going back to Arkansas that I was senst up
on a horse ly Sentence."
lint lis Homnor was obstInate, and the
prisoner sat down ont a naIl keg in the cor
ridlor, and said ne'd have to kill one of the
guardls at the Work House to restore his
lost prestige.
Amni mot timlpeu, maIUI otniae
L4,Va mu a Lute. bur, keuj at up.
home in Engiand and America.
At present there is no comparison be
tween English and American homes.
America has not the house, the servants,
nor the inducements that belong to the
home life of England. In the first place,
the wooden house of the country districts
of America is a poor substitute for the
English cottage or villa. This will be
strikingly apparent to Americans traveling
for the first time through Great Britain.
There Is no exaggeration of sentiment in
the tributes which poets have invariably
paid to "the cottage homes of England.'
The humblest peasant householder in the
country districts has often a picturesque
little home, with a flower and kitchen gu
den, altogether superior to the American
villa one sees at outlying places along the
railway routes. To 4bave a house of his
own is the chief an)bitioa pf an English
man. Except in London and other large
cities, no young man dreatns of marrying
until he has furnishdd a house ani can
literally take his wife "hoine." Even in
large cities it is a most rare and unaccus
tomed thing to see a la'nily dining out at
a restaurant. Home means more in Eng
land than in America, and the home life of
New York bears no comparison to that of
Loddon, The lack of a thoroughly settled
class of men and women devoted to domes
tic service In America has much to do with
this; so also, of course, have the heavy
rents of good houses. The artisan's cottage
and the inididle class house of England are
almost unknown in the great cities of
America. Boston, Philadelphia and Chi
cago have more to show in tie direction
than New York. Yet with jhese advan
tages on the side of England, where the
sanctity of home is a sort of religion, we
exhibit to Americans at every street cor
ner, a sight which is peculiarly sad and
loathsome-women drinking at public
bars. women with babies in their arms tak
ing gin at all hours of the day, woineu
often reeling into the streets i a state of
drunkenness. There is no deeper stain on
tie imoral escutcheon of Ureat Britain than
this public scandal, except it be the open
and shameless solicitation by a crowd of
prosinutes in the' West End streets from
dusk till long after midnight of every day
that conies. It would seem as if the high
est virtues and the lowest vices traveled
along side by side in the English meitropo
lis. Poverty andi wealth meet here oftener
face to face and exist closer together than
in any other metropolis the world has ever
Heelt,
loodious anmputation.
Within the last, five years surgical science
has made some wonderful inptovements
in its operations, among which may be
imentioned the grafting of humaa skin and
freezing witi oiher spray tumors to be
operated upon; but nothing that modern
surgeons have achieved is so calitated to
ease mankind and preserve life as the in
vention of the Esmairche bandage fo.
by all the surgeons of Cleveland, and
almost unknown to the physicians of the
back country. There Is uscd an elastic
bandage of rubber and cord, called from
the French surgeon who invented it the
Ihaiwtrche bandage. which is wrapped very
Lightly about the leg or arm to be operated
Upon. The - wrapping begins at the ox
treinity of the limb and is continued to a
point about, the place of' cision very tight
ly. The wrapping drives all the blood
from the limb. At the top of the bandage
a tourniquet Is placed, which gives a heavy
pressure upon the principal artery. The
bandage is then removed, and the opera
tion is )erforied. Amputations are made
by this plan where the knife Is unstained,
anid not at drop of blood is shed duriig the
cision. The flesh is white, and the opera
tion niay be performed with miore case thtau
when, as formerly, tho blood was spurting
forth. All time blood of the body is saved
to strengthen the patienit. By this method
hiunidreds ox lives have been raved dwruing
Iast year. After the limb has been ampu
tatted the blood must be allowed to flow a
little ini order that the arteries may be dis
covered anid bound up. In no ease, by this
inethod, is over an ounce of blood shed.
By tate o d method patients of ten died upon
thme amputating couch, or noon afterwards,
f romi excessive hemnmorrhage. Like all
new methods, it is blindly rejected by old
school pmhysicians, who regard nothing good
save thme antiquated.
Lot, Go
Thea aight was dark, and the yacht un
der double-reefed sails, the sea heavy. In
rouandiang the yacht up in the wind it was
necessairy to take the sails ini quickly, and
let go thme anchor before the yacht foil oli
in the trough of time sea. 1 gave orders tu
any old frienid, Jimmy M-, a three
years cruiser in the rebellion, a good sea
man and a thorough disciplinarian, to let
go. Jun, why in thunder don't you lot
go ?" "All gone, sir," was the stern re
sponse. I heard a splash in thme water,
and as the anchor still remained on the
yacht's bow, and the yacht rolhing heavily
iai the trough of the sea, I ran forward just
iai time to save one of our orewv, Billy
W r, from a watery gmavo. lie had
fallon overboard, and Jiaimy was just lift
ing him over the lee rail, wiaen I sang out
to 'let go,' meaning tho. ganchor. l1e
promptly obeyed orders anid W -
went back into thme river. dome one was
roughly pulled over the yacht's clock like a
'swab, and dumped dlown thme after comn
panionway. I asked Jimmy the iiext
mnorninig, as we rode quietly on tame placid
waiters, why he did not pull W--r all
thme way out on clock. 'Why, captain,'
said lie, 'I had lham half over the lee rail,
whieai you ordered me to 'let go,' and, Cap
tain, 1 never dlisobey orders.''
What, They llought.
"My children," said a Now Haven man
to his son and daughter, both along In their
teens a trile, "if I should give you each
five dollars, what would you do with it I''
"I wordd buy something to read," replied
the boy, the light of intelligence beanimng
across is counmenance. "And 1," said the
girl, with enthusiasm, "would buy some
thing to wear." "You both do yourselvoe
credit. It is natural that a boy just on the
verge of inanhood should sock to improve
his mInd, and girls of your age, my dear,"
as he stroked her curls, "always are think
ing of good clothes. Here is the monoy,
use your judgment, both of. you." The
boy bought a full coleD 4"Wild Bill;
or, Life on thme Plisni n the gui
a live-dollar set of diatnohd jedetry.