The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, May 17, 1881, Image 1
TR-E.T IDIIN WINBO O Go.- ..
MA 17 18'
P'HE HIGHLAND TRTAN.
Dear to each Highland'soldier's heart
Ihe.'artan pfhis olan,
Symbol of glory and of pride
To every Highland man.
Whether he dwell 'mid Athloe's hills,
Or where the winding Tay,
By Birnam'a glens and forests fair,
To ocean. wends its way;
Or nearer to the northern star,
., Where snows the mountains crown,
And tow6ring oier silver lakes,
Stern peaks of granite frown.
In every country, far or near,
Where Highland men are known,
The Tartan .plaid is greeted still.
With homage all his own.
Still to the Pibroch's stirring strains
On many a foreign shore,
The lighlbhd'lans rqss nobly on.
-to viotory, as of yore.
True to traditions of the past,
True to their ancient fame,
May Caledonia's children add
Fresh glories to her name.
Kit's Mission.
The Major arrived just before sup per,and
when it Wa over the young folks as usiual
took possession of him. Seated in his big
arm chair, before the blazing fire, with is
ruddy face, twinkling bile eyes, doldlerly
whiskere and slight brogue, he was their
very ideal of "a brave old Irish gentleman
all of the olden time."
"And so you've graduated,Tom,my'boy?'
he said.
"Yes," the young man replied, sullenly.
"With all the honors, of, course?'
"With no honors. I never was intended
to make a mark in the world.'
"rave you chose your profession?" asked
the Major cheerily, pretending not to see
the lad's discontented face.
"No. It does not matter much what I
do. Bome follows have money .to begin the
world with, and some talent. Bob Fitch
had an aptitude for medicine: his brother,
for the law; while Joe, there is a born ma
chinist. But I have no capital of any sort.
I con't know why God sends useless people
into the world."
The Major made no reply. le saw that
Toni was bitter under some college defeat.
It was no time for serious reproof. Ile
turned to the children, therefore, who were
climbing his knees and bringing their stools
closer,in preparation for a story.
"An Irish story, please."
"A duel, Major," said Jack.
No, nol Lady Leigh's ghost," pleaded
Mary.
"Tut, tut I You know my stock too
well. Let me see. Did I ever tell you of
the man who lived in his coffin V
"No Oh, go out" their eyes dilating.
with the delight of a new horror. ..
"It was in 1820," began the Majortoast
ing his feet comfortably, that! was spnt on
a visit to my uncle, a farmer, in County
Cork. I was about your age, Jack, a hear
ty eater,a good shot, and a great deal fon
der of fun than of books.
"My uncle's house was a -great, low, ram
bling building, with plenty of windows,
and big roaring fires; untidy and comfort
able; lull and running over with childgen,
dogs and servants. I was stunned at first
with the scale on which the eating and fun
and frolic went on.
"My uncle was only a dairy farmer. In
this country he would have felt it right to
save every penny for his eleven children.
But in Ireland, he felt it to be Is duty to
keep his table filled with poor friends the
year round.
"They're unfortunate," my aunt replied,
when I questioned. why they were there.
"Isn't that reason. enough?"
"In the kitchei it was just the same
wa y. Besides the cooks, farm hands,laun..
dyand loom women (for the ladies wove
their own linen then), th'ero was a legion of
old, blind and deat retainers cluttering up
the passages.
"They're not beggars; they're all of use,'
said my aunt, placidedly. They earni their
bite and sup."
"Oh Molly, now? Bhe cannot hear thuu
der," I suggested.
"Qh, sh6~ sits in the sun and looks after'
the hensl"
*%nd'lamne Davy?"
'"He-he goes for, harm (y'east) twice a
week," triunmphiatly.'
"And the idiotsj k'tsy and.Barneyr?"
" ychild. the~y're innocents! God
have them in is keepig!!'
"'My uncle's way of life was that of his
iiemghbors. I suppose ilt -was ex'travagant
and. foolish; and yet, .when i remember
how the poor and helplesh were received
and fed, as if sent by God, I wonder some
times if there were not a better wisdom
than economy In, It,
'There was olie young lad in the -house
with whom I soon formned a friendship.
His name was ble0k Ciancy, He -was a
hard student, and was reading his 'human
ities' in the village school, preparatory to
entering Trinity College, Duiblin..
"Is Claney a kinsman of yours?" I ask
ed my biicle.
"o.' He is' What .is calkd a "poor,
seholar." When a poor lad wishes to re
ceive' an education, 'fie is taught without
charge at any school, and goesifrom house
thouse, staying at each as long as he
chooses. A "poor scholar" is alwayg.wel
come. We think God's blessing godi with
hi m for the love of learning.'
'We were at oupper, .1 remember,-'when
he said this.' It was a wilde stormy night.
T~'lhe ground -was covered with ui'ow, and
4 the wind blewdliereely tronm.thA sea. ,In a
," ~ lull of the storm, w'a hea'd 'a knocking at~
- tqml' cried my qnclo. 'Who,cansi be
a broad dni such a'nigh~t as this?'
of'ieni the men unbarred thie door, 01ie
ofthem stopped hastily back.
'It's)2Kit inithe coilln, sirn'
7Thqg Anow blew with a frightful gust
'lnto'tlie open lall, as, lour nmen enteredi,
egiga bier', whidhi thefsot downl, ant}
then hastily retrea'ted. 'On'\the bier rested
S Waheeomed to be'an-Ap~ii cogin.
"Eeoeleth das thrown ofr, and from
Wt.~q thd cof~fn aipqu'sg head' rose tup.
'Gdbe M4,h all heel hid the hearty
Gtod be with jou, Kitl' replied a dozen
4hae i'ed you 7t ou Sucj
- a n p id n)? uncji
But4J sai4 I'm~ue $ the squire's, and il
not 'd sappoint him. Aid 1 had the salve
for tho mistress, burn to bring, and the
wash foi yeur tlrdat, Mo'ly. I kfiew yees
couldn't do without me apuder day.
'Thrue f'or you, Kit,' came from half the
people in the room.
'Take him to the fire,'said my uncle,who
was cutting the beet slices of meat for his
,supper.
'Kit was, I found, a man who had been
for twenty years paralyzed in ils legs. 1ie
1lyed in a narrow box likes cofin,arranged
as a comfortable bed, and went from house
to house, staying a week or month at each.
as suited him.'. The po-rest houses in the
country took their share of entertaining
him.
'When my aunt whispered this explana
to me, I looked at. the wretched creature,
wl6)i one-half of his body dead, and won
dereil how he could bear so much misery.
'Why doesn't lie make them throw him
in the bog and make an end of it' I asked.
'I don't see how 4 man can endure to be a
'dead weight 6n others for so iijany years.'
'Wait and'fou'will see,' said Iny aunt.
'After supper I went out to the kitchen,
from whence came loud shouts of laughter.
Kit's coffin was placed near the fire, and a
square box which he carried under- his .head
was open pefore him. He was distributing,
and at once, his jokes and cures-for birns,
toothache,corns,inore serious diseases-pat
terns of children's clothes, recipes for pud
dings, every kind of useful scrap of infor
mation, in a word, which could be carried
in his head'or lils box.
.'I stood listening to hlim, adid, boy as I
was, noticed the remarkable tact and home
ly Kindness which ho showed ulder all his
fun. He turned is bright, shrewd eyes on
me pr'esently.
'You see, young gentleman, I can't fol
low a profession or trade, so I have to take
lip the odds and ends which nobody else
attends -to, to make myself useful.'
'My uncle told me that Kit had acquired
much skill in the 6ure of' simple ailments.
and that with his odds and ends he was in
fact one of the most useful men in the coun
try.
'Tie storm increased, and Kit remained
all night.. lie was carried in front of the
kitchen fire, the straw of his bed renewed,
and warm coverlids spread over the cof
fin.
'My own chamber was o; er the kitchen.
There were cracks in the log fooring through
which I could look down. and thiough
which toa, ruddy flashes of firelight came
up cheerfully.
'After the house was all quietPatsy, the
'innocent,' came into the kitchen,' and'
throwing down a blanket on the warm
hearth, near to Kit, curled up on It like a
log.
'rhe neighborhood of the queer pair made
me restless, I suppose for I could not sleep.
I heard the clock in the hall strike mid
night, and then one o'clock. Then a muf
tied soand struck my ear, very different
from the noise of the storin. it was the
drawing back of the heavy b'ar from the
buter door.
'Ptobably Dennis, the shepherd, is going
out to look after his lambs,' I thoughtand
turned over to sleep. But the next mom
ent I rose uneasily, and crept to the. win.
dOw. Through the gray storm' without I
could see that the road and yard were filled
with dark figures, stealthily surrounding
the house. - I understood it all at a glance.
-'The year had been one of great suffering
-almost of famine-and bands of desper
ate men had attacked several of the farm
houses in that pait of the country, which
they had plurtdered and then set on fire.
These desperate men were still at large. It
was asserted.that they were peasants, here
tofore decent'and honest men. . Whoever
they might be, it was certain that, as soon
as caught, they would swIng for it.
'I shook with terror. I knew that ny
uncle had a large sum of inoney in his
chamberjust received for cattleand doubt
less these men knew it too. I saw that
there wad enough of them to overpower the
men in the hiouse, even if they were awake
and armed.
'My room was separated by a long corri
dor from my uncle's. I groped for the door
my teeth chattering with cold, when the
firelight .fia'shing.' up below showed me a
sight .whic,h'held me motionless.
'They worq ali-endy in the house. The
kitchen was ftill of sturdy fellows, all armed
,thdir 'frieze coats covered with snow and
their, faces swathedI with bhie~k dloih.
'The 'Jitch'en 'was separated from the
hiotise by '-a long passagei : rh~y made no
effort to-15eep quie., therefore, but began
to drpg o~it the itovisions, talking loudly,
'and.intheir naturel volces. As yet thogy
nad ndt seen Kit or Patsy. Trho Idiot lay
soundl psidep'oli the warm hear th, but Kit
hiad raised his head, and lis keen, pale face
tuirnedi quickly fr'oini nie to aiinothier as they
spoke.
'They'll murder himi' 1 thought; lint my
lips were glued together with terror." Kit,
helpless as a dead man, was cool and calm.
'131 jabers,' said one, we'll hey some.
~thin' to ate before Wve go for theould man's
imoneyl I didn't know how near starved
I was afore, but the sight of this mnate makes
me sick.'
'Yon're atfool, Pat Grady. . Tlhere's
enough silver in his chest to kape us for a
yearl Iowvly Moth'er, what's 'here? as
another flahh of flirelight showed the cof
fin..
'I'm here. Mibhmael Crawford, said Kit'
quietly. 'It's you, ms it, that kerries oii
tills worki
'hlow dtire you call nie namiet' 'blustered
the ruffian, changing his voIce. Im no
Crqwford,' he added, wit'h a' terrible oath.
'I1 kndw you. Anid you,'lat grady. And
~you, Rlobert Flynn. Thg re'.s not one jf you
'I couldn't name, and bring to the gallows
tQ morrow.'
'O'Grady spfang at him with a smothered
yefl,,randising a knife.
.'Kit's face turnedi ghastly pele, ' Life, I
suppose, wats a's depr to the poor fragment
of a man as ft Is to you oi'f me. But his
eyes npverblenched. -
'Ye'dimrdh~er me, Patrick Grady? Met
'The knife shook In the murderer's hand
'I'd muilrdhmer any informeorgt said the man,
sullenly.
-'I'mn no informer. I'll never open my
ups, boys, on this night's work, 'If it's thme
last4 But, if you touch a~ hair of the.
squire's heyl, or go into tltis ho'use an inch,
PI'l hang every man of yeesi'
'lie raised hmis eto'rbse like head and shook
his skinny'-hand at them. I've been In
fiany a,baette, but I never' 'saw such cour
age.- as t was shown' by 'thie 'erppio
In his go ln. -Thq. idlot, Patsy, rouse'
by themnolse scrambled to his knees, and
'The meon stoo paralyvzed. ''I'he super
stition which'tdrilit them to protect these
two helpless creatures was strong to held
them motionless, even in the face of Kit's
threats.
'Make an end of -it?' growled Crawford.
'Put a bullet in his skull.'
Not a man mov9da. Kit. with a terrible
effort, raised himself b1gher in his coffiln.
'Come, an' do it yerself, Michael Craw.
fordi Kilh the cripple and the innocent,
if ye dai'e. There's a mighticrone watching
yel' pointing suddenly to the stormy sky,
seen, through the open door.
*The men stared at him, and at the driv
ing storm, with vliible terror. Michael
began to whine, after the faehlion of his
class.
'Ye know, ye're safe, Kit; an' it's not an
informer ye'd be, that shlep under our roof
an' drunk wid us?'
'I'll never mintion yer names. if yees lot
this be thelast uv it. Take that mate wid
yees, an' two of the .flitches: I'll make it
right wid the Squire. He never let i hun.
gry man go from his dure.'
'Thrue for you. No more he did! 'Fore
the Howley Mother, we'll go straight home.
'Tney left the house and took the gang
wIth them.
'They'll roib the next liouse,' said Kit
dropping back exhausted. 'But I did the
best Icould.'
'He was right. By daylight came the
news that they had attcked the house of a
wealthy gentlenai near towi, who was
prepared for them. There was a desperate
tight; the ring leaders were arrested, tried
and hanged, and the baud broken up. Then
I told my uncle hew the poor cripple and
innocent, whom he had taken in from char.
ity, had protected him, as no arms could
have done.'
..The Major's story brought forth many
criticIams 'from the children. But Tom
came up behind him and said quietly:
'1 think I u -derstaid the moral of Kit's
life, sir, and I will try and apply it.'
The Other Doacon.
There was a little personal difficulty the
other day between two citizens, to which'
a Brooklyn clergyman was the only eye
witness. The principals were reticent
about the affair, and the divine was solici
ted to make a statement.
"Your information is correct, sir. Yes,
sir, your information is correct. I was
standing on an adjacent curbstone, and I
think I may safely say I saw it all. An
unfortunate affair, sir, very."
"What was it about ?"
''That, sir, I have not been able to as-.
certain. . I have made a few inquirie,% but
my investigations are without satisfactory
results." -
"What was said to start it I"
"There were some remarks not at all
indicative of humility of spirit, atid some
lqnguage which you would dot expect me
to remember."
"Did one of them insult the other ?"
"Different men put different construc
tion upon words. 1 would not like to say
that any affront was intended. I will say
though. that the language was not scrip
tural.%
"Did the lie pass I Did either say the
other lied I"
"My impression as to that is not founded
upon an accurate recollection of the iden
tical language employed. I dislike to err
and can scarcely give you a direct reply."
"Were there any blows struck "
- "It seems to me that there was smiting
involved in the controversy."
"Which one struck first ?"
"I don't . think I am prepared to say
who inaugurated the assault. It may
have been one, and it may have been the
other."
''Did the assaulted man strike back ?"
. "He may have done so. I wIll take the
responsibility of saying that, very likely,
lie did. Men under the influence of car.
nal anger are prone to smite when anit
ten."
".Did they tall down."
"I don't know whether they fell or wore
thrown down. I saw them on the side
walk together, locked ini close embrace and
striving with prodigious strengtht"
"Didn't you try to separate them ?"
"I spoke to them and asked them to re-'
frain fromi such an unseemly display of
violence. Bunt they. heeded not. Their
passions were strong upon them. I told
them thaat I might have to invoke the con
stabulary -if they did not desist."
"What did, they say ?
"They made a few reiharks about the
cons.bulary that I did not dceni) germ
"Were they punching each other all the
time ?"
"There Was much violence constantly
exhibited and mnqch anger displayed.''
"Which whipped in the endt?".
"I incline to the opinion that our -deacon
biaa:the advantage of the opposing deacon.
In feect, 1.might say that our, deacon chas
tised the other deacon severely, thongh]I
hear that he and the members of his
church claim that our deacon was wvorsted.
Not so, not so! I, am not well versed in
such contests, but I should say fromi my
observygtion tpat our deacon, providentially,
perhAps, was. on top during the~ greater
portion of time. In fact, to use the lan
guage of our deacon in a moment of in.
tense excitement and subsequent to the
battle, he 'whaled the stufihig out of the
other deacon.'" -. -
Moer kausmn.
It is impossible to read the accounts of
the catastrophe at Bronker's sprult, wlth
out being a ruck by the extreme deadliness
of the tire oj~ened by the Boers upon the
94th ReglInent.' In a. very fe*. minutes
before, we are told,j the English soldiers,,
could get the range-most of the oflcers of
the party wore-picked off and a large num,
her of the solgilers were killed and wound
ed. The abImd~ance of the big game in
the Transvaal, , q,in fset, n~ade the Boers
excellent shloto t 'the ridle.. As a rule,
also, they are provided with modern weap
ons; the -lotik and cunmbersome "Boers"
with which they were equipped in the days
of the "great trek," having long since been
discarded and replaced by Westley Ritch
ards or othqr rifles of precision, one of the
ambitions of the B~oer being the'possession
,of a gun capable of kihlingat longer ranges
thid the guns of hiis neighbors. rhe Bb~er
also excels in shooting from horseback.
G~allopiiat full snee. iaftet' 4 flying herd
of dheer or wi d beasts, with a loose -rein
hanging over the left wrlst,,the JBoer stops
his well trained horse liy a niuddedi pressure
of the knees and, rising in his stirruns,
biring's liis'11 to lis' sh~ukdfer in a moinent,
nid m'eldom misses his marlf. British trobips
itutaybo safely asserted, haVe noy er liefore
M unitefe#- men who cahm shoots as' the
Bcar; 31i ith is 64nalif certain that
as marksmen they are far an daway superior
to English soliers.
- Tbe c o at,
'Some one miust go for 'the doctor,' said
Mrs. Bray.
'Ill go,' said Johnny. -
'Whatv' said Mrs. Brag, half smiling;
'three miles across the mountain-side, in
all this deep snowl'
'I've often carried fath 's dinner to him
when he was in the ni le-sugar camp,'
said Johnny, 'and toat'4 a half a mile
further than Dr. Dehton'4, It's something
of a walk to be sure.'
'I should think so,' sail Mrs. Bray.
'But I think I-could go)quicsier than any
one else,' said Johnny, asfhe looked piti.
fully at the little babe in e cradle, whose
dimpled face was all fil hed with fever
"I love Willie, you kno and- '
And here a great lump emed to rise up
in his throat and check hi words.
Johnny :and Willie 4vere motherless
children. Their father iarned his liveli
hood by cutting pines inthe forest, haul.
ing timber and dding jobs generally
whenever he could get a chance. Their
mother had died a few trionths before, atnd
a kind neighbor had pffor d a home to the
children for the sake of: the little errands
and chores that Johnny ua do.
Mrs. Bray was very d to them, and
took the best possible car, of the baby, but
there was many a night lhen Johnny lay
awake softly crying to himself with his
arms around -Willie's neck, and thinking
of the deAr, dear mother he had lost.- And
it was hi greatest ambition to obtain a
good situation in the neighborhood; where
-he could earn a li.tle money and help and
support Willie.
W'or I know that my' futher is very poor,
said Johnny, 'and if I could oily assist
him I know that mother would be pleasel
up in heaven.'
'Well,' said Mrs. Bray, after a- little
lisia'ion, '1 think you had better go.'
So Johnny put on lus cap and tied his
faded worsted comforte' about his neck.
Anovercoat was an unknown luxury to
him, but his coat was warm and snug, and
he set off on a brisk walk, that wail almost
a run, in thafrozen March sunshine, over
the mountain side, that wias white and
glittering with snow.
F6r all the dazzling sunshiiie,a tremend
ous gale was.blo.wingbudh a gale as might
make marindre tremble *n the decks of
great s4ips standing far out to. sea, & gale
ithat shook the tops of trees aid made
them groan and creak s if giants In pain
were hidden within . their huge, mossy
trunks.
And now Johnny found his way through
those trackless woods, where there was no
path, except here and there the paw-marks
of a stealing fox, or wild cat, or the velvety
tracks of rabbits, nobody could guess
I do not think that Johnny knew nim
self.
He keeps his eyes steadily on the sun,
and now and then pauged to look foi rude
signs cut in the bark of the bircn trees,
which served as a sort' of guitle ,post to
.After a long walk,qrsilng tWO or three
frozen streams, and getting over a huge,
rocky chasm by imeans of a - fallen tree
trunk-which grouned dismally as Johnny
picked his way across it, as if it had half
a - mind to snap itself in two and let him
down among the snowy rocks below-he
reached the doctor's house, on the other
side, and left his message.
'The doctor ifn't in,' -said .Miss Phobe,
the doctor's sister; 'but - I'll tell him, the
very minute he gets back. He can drive
around by tLe road in his new cutter, and
perhaps he'll be there before you are.'
'I hope so,' said Johnny, wistfnlly, "be
cause our baby is sick.'
,You'd better stop and have a bit of din
ner,' said Miss Phobe. 'it's most ready.'
' 'Oh, thank you I' said Johnnie, but I
couldn't stay-[ must get back to Willie.
I can quiet huna better than any one else
when-he is ailing and fretful.'
'bo Miss lihobe gave him a drink of milk
and a piece of hot gingerbread, and he
started back home again.
It' was getting on toward sinset now and
Johnny wars anxious to get home.'
'I think perhaps it would be a shorter
cut,' he thought, 'if I could get dow'n the
railroad track and walk on that es far as
.the Great Gray Rlock, and 'then cross the
ice pond to thme old road.'
lie scrambled down the steep andi frozen
side of the bleak mountain, and soon came
to the, single -railroad track, upona which a
ptwuenger train ran at 8. in the mornn
going south, and 5 in the afternoon going
north. . There was a freight train also, but
this had passed by long since.
'It must be iiear 5 now,' thought he. 'I
shall hear the noise of the train as it conies;
am d, be~sidcs, they always blew a whistle at
the Great Gray lHock.'-.
lie walkell along swiftly and steadily,
his nose piirpin with cold. Buddenily he
stopped.
*It's verny strange that I don't see the
Crow's Nest,' lie said aloud, as If lie were
talking to the ybildw sunset in the west,
The Crow's Nest was a long deserted
nest of sticks, and straw, and reeds, in the
decayed boughs of a lightning-blasted pmc
tree, whicb, from its peculiar position,
could be shen for some distance away by
.any one approaching from the -northecrs
side of the mountain. And just ther
Johnny came around the curve of th<
Woods and saw, to his *izement, that
the old pine, decayed at the heart, and
tossed about by the tempestuous March
gale, had spit half way down and tallen,a
huge splintered mass, acoss tne iron raulh
of the track.
And this was the reassn that .Johony
had failed to see the familiar landmark of
tue Crow's Nest.
'What shall I do?9' cried Johnny, aloud
'The train comes rushing.pround the bent
at 5, adid all the passenAerA will be kllet.|
Oh, if I had a redI lantern to signal, 'Dan
gcr nhea'd l'
lie stop~pedl a minute, trembling like
leaf, to think what he had better do; ant
then, starting to run at full speed, lie rush
ed headlong dtown the track, waving hli
scarlet- comforter over his heAd..
At the top of the snowy hill by the greal
rock, he knew thaet he could bee seen for
long distance,'and, by dint of great exer
tions, lie contrived to reach this vantage
ground before the shrIll whistle of the ad
vancing train was hear'd."
It was on a down grade here, which in
creased the beril of the situation;and John
ny stoosi there, the scarlet comforter flut
*termg above his head, as If it wero a littj.
'stittue, cet in ebony, sharply outline<
agsiast the bright western sky, where the
sun was hanging, 'a great globe of gob
above the black cloida..
'Now if the enginee nl sees me I
thought.Johnny his little. heart . beating
like a trip-hammer as he could hear, above
the rush of the wind and the creaking of
the tree boughs, the hoarse. whistle. of
the train as it rushed onward through thq
deep gorge beyond.
And the engineer did see. him. Small
as was Johnny, and insig4iflcant as was
Is ensign of danger, the snow-created hill
and the orange sunset made so strong a
background for him that they instantly
perceived that something was wrong and
whistled the signal for "down brakes."
And the lives of the paseqngers we-e
saved, and all through the courage and
presence of mind of a boy twelve years
old.
. Children, this is a true story. It is a
t'iing th'it re illy ha p ned. And you will
be glad to hear that one of the .officeus of
the railroad company had Johnny appointed
to a go )d place at the nearest station, where
it was his duty to signal every approach.
Ing train with a flag.
'For,' said the gentleman, 'I feel sure I
can trust such a lad as that.'
And little Willie got well. and Johnny
dates all his good luck from that wilk
down the mountain side, when the March
winds were raging in the fore.1ts, and the
Crow's Nest crashed furiously across thq
iron lines of the railroad track.
Onrionis Custom.
An English gentleman,who has traveled
in Palestine, recently gave a description of
the curiQue scenes that are enacted- in the
Church of the Holy Sepulcher. lie said
when you first enter the church you would
be surprised to see a party of soldiers with
their swords by their sidea, an:l their gens
stacked within reach. It seemed a sacrilege
in such a holy place and struck one rather
unpleasantly; but he soon found out the
necessity of it. According to the laws of
the country, every sect is allowed to wor
ship there, and as it is considered equally
sacred by both Christians and Mohamme
dans, all wishi a time for their mode of
worship. The law allows them an hour
each. -They commence at six in the morn
ing. At that hour, those who have the first
privilege enter, iringing with them what
ever is necessary to conduct their particu
lar religious rites. They go through their
chants, and all is very quiet to about' a
quarter to seven, when those who have the
privilege of the next hour begin-to arrive.
At first all is decorum, but presently the
new comers begin to hiss and mock. As
their numbers increase, and they become
stronger they push and crowd, and as the
time lessens they get more and more b ld.
A few minutes. before seven they proceed
to more forcible demonstration. They
think if they clear out these blaspheiers a
few minutes before the time they have
done so much good work, while the wor
shipers on the other hand think if they can
'keep possession a few njinutes after the
'time they have done an.equally good work.
As home of these sects -use torches, Vai
candles, staves, or crooks.in their worship',
t iey proceed-to iso-th6m as wauu' of
olfense or defense, and a free fight.ensucs..
Thei come in the soldiers, who separate
the combatants by filing in bet ween them,
turning out those whose hour is up, and
leaving the place in tne possession. of the
list comeis. If blood is shed,the church is
closed for the day. Buch scenes are occur -
Ing all day long, and the -presence of sol
diers is absolutely -ne:.essary.
A KI..d-Ilearzed Bragnd.'
A brigand in.Thessaly has lately distin
guish'd himself by an act 9f unusual kind
ness and good-feeling. A short time ago
several school children. were carried off
from Zagocah by a band of brigands under
the leadership of an eminent rulfian by
name of Balachos. Five of these children'
were subsequently restored to their parents
on payment of a heavy ransom in each
case. I'hree of the captives, for whose re
lease a larger ransom was denmanded, were
retqined. One of the three was the son of
a Mr. Cassavetti, a little boy-in whose fate
general interest was excited, .and who has
rogained his liberty in an unexpeeted man
nor. A. Wallack, belonging to the baud
which had captured the boy, took a fancy
to him andl determined to effect his rescue,
aiid being left with two others of the band
to guard the cld,hle found an oppgrtunity
for carrying out, his benevolent intention.
Qoe of the brigands went to get some bread
and another fell asliep. The Wallack,
taking advantage of this favrorable md'ment
broke the needle of the gun of the bandit
and called to the child to come with him.
TIho little captive, iiot unnaturally misun
derstanding the sunimols, began to cry.
This awoke the briuiai who was asleep;
but his gun -was useless and he. snapped
the trigger in vain. In the nieantimie the
Wallack imnaged to es-ape with the boy
to Rissomola, wil/ 'ce he was taken home
by some friends i. .d an escort, of soldiers.
Of course Balachos Is direadfully annoyed
at the affair, and 11, hie gets hold of.the
Wallack intends to make an exaimple of
U~nder a Fear.
TIhe recent rain in (Georgia swelled all
the streams to overflowig. Among others
the Coosa river passed its banks andi sub
merged the country through which it rimns.
'rho Ogosa flood was sudden, and its ro
ccssioul was so rapid as to tear up and dis
arraiige the land in many places. TIhe farm
of Frank Perry was.deeply overflowed, and
when the waters subsided, they do so with
a rush which literally peeled off .the farm
all the top soil to a* greater depth than It
had ever before beeni penetrated by plow
or spade. In fact, the rushing waters
rolled the top land off as if it were a cover
iet.enveloping the phenomena whose tlime
for daylight had come.- After the depart
nrc ot the waters, the greater part of the
farm was found to be an umncoveredl battle
-field and burying groungi. Part of the
teri Itory consisted of mounds, evidently
fortilications. These were strewh with
imuple'munts- of aboriginu.i warfare, beads
and earthen vessels. . Trho remainder of 'Ihe
groundi was covered thicaly with skeletons,
all perfectly exposed, all iii good preserva
tion andi all lying in regular rows. The
place is attracting orows fi-om all directinos
and it Is almost impossitile to prevent van
. dalisim from seriously impairing .what will
undoubtedly prove to stuence, one of the
richest "ffnds" ever griado on the 4merican,
coitmnent. Among the opuhtless number
of Inian yl~es found1 is die of grQat size
and exceedinughy fi workmnanship,i the
lhowl of whica is carved 'ihth* great skil,
into the form of a human bead,
The Railroad 'Telltale.
Au ingenious machine, called the' Uell
lalp,' has been introduced recefitl. on,the
iKrle Railroad. It registets tlie speed of
tralns, when and whera' they.stop, htd
Low-long. It Is used especially for freight
trains, and is fastencd .at either end of
stuall cabooses or at the side of large ca
booses about four and a blif feetJroin.the
floor. It was -ladoted' because freight
trams frequently exceeded the prescribed
rate of speed. They wouldgun very fast
for some distance, and-then takp things
nomfortably'foi a titne. . The nuachine
works a folloWe: A'screw is wound
.round one of the journals oi- axles of the
3fbbose.- 'A rod,' ivhich' is turned by the
screw as soon as the tram is in motion, runs
lorizontally tQ the cn or Adp' of ,the ca
Joose to point .udei'r the registering na.
"line. 'I'o this rod a dogwheel Is attached
working in another cogwiheqiwijch turns
rod running peroudle'iirly, aid ending
iu still another cogwhdI ' which turns a
%ylinder about four inches long and quo
nch in diameter. The.number of Qogs in
3ach wheel varies,.so thit When the traifn
ins traveled a tuile the cylip ler'h is rovolv, d'
>nly about oie quarteitof afi mcli. 'A strip
>f paper twenty-two 'ibehes I'ong an'd four
nches in breadth passes over .thecynder
tud hangs into a - wooden boxunder the
.ylinder. This paper is. celled the con
luctor's service report. Lengthwise it ls
livided by dotted lines intb 'eighty-eight
parts. Eaeh of- -theA6 p.trtp, which repr-'
iouts a mile, -I subdivkied.by green lines.
bach of these parts represents a minute.a
By ulcans of clockwork q pencil mQves I
oross the paper and back again. As soon
is the journal or axle tu'nt, the cylinder
,urns at the rate of atiuarter' inch to the
nile, so that when a ile', is traversed the
p)cntl has marked a line over the space'be
,ween the dotted lines which rpprcscqt a
nile on the strip ol .paper. As the clock
work moves the 'pencil across the"4trip,the
pencil has also phssed over as nainy minute
Aivisions as it has taken the car minutsA
o run-a mile. If the train stops the cylla
ler stops. The line made by .the pencil in
ie direction of the length of time paper is
iraken t s it ng as tWe train stops, aid tihe
imd of the interruption in ttavel is repre
iented by the n.amber of spaces the - pecl'
noves icross,tho strip before it resumes
,he lengtilwisc line.
In order to ascertain the point where an
rrcgularity occrred, the statiqns on the
road are printed on or betweei the dot ted
ines at.points corresponding tp icir its
auees from Jersey City. Bergen Is two
niles and a half from.Jerseg City. Jersey
aity is 1 rinted at the begminlug *of tho.
itrip, and Bergen is printed two and a half
ipaces further on the length, of the strip.
When. the train stops the cyliqder'stopd,
mud the pencil . line lengthwise is broken
between tile printed names . Jeoicy City
t'd Bergen.. 'The cyliuder clockwork are
inclosed in Xn'iron i6ox, ' hich is .16ckced.
Wheiia train reaches i 'destination the
lip is ro'ulved'nd inspected.
Stenography Is on the eve of being super
ieded by the inver~tlo of 'the 'planotachy
fraph. Its history is little known and is
very curious. , We may first 'renptrk that
uodern jiatious are mnuch behindhanti in
the practico of stenography. ' bavid, in
ract, says In one of his Psalms, Mingua
maz caaaiM scribxr velociter keribentis
( 'y tongue is the pen of a ready writer.?')
rho IIebrows, therefore, knew the art 9t
w~riting as rapildy a one coUld speak. Ilki
It was at Atl.8 a and Rome edpecially that
steography was' p'afctsed. 'Xenophon
amployed an abbreviated alplhabet to, write
the specebes of 1Oerates, .whose 'works lie
adited. This Was 1(I4 years before Jesus18
Christ. *",r Itoman4s, who,with the spoils
:f Grcece, carrioi the arts and usages of
the (recks mnte Italy, brdughmt baCk that
king~ of writing and vqlgarized,10i among
aill classes of the' population. Un'der the
Uoisulate of Vice o may be sieei thie first
traces of stenogram ly. yThe grea~it orator
was himself .' very expert in th asi-t, aid
took a pleasure in teaching it, to a .fmee
slave named Tiron, who wrote dlown 'his,
pleadings. Tri'on, acqumired'a celebhrity in
the practice, 'and gav'e his, namne- to the~
method lie employed, his reports being
calledl Trironian Nfotcs. Sogn teleraphie~
signs were aldne used in wrmting in Rome.
Senecas, Brutus, Juli is Cwesar, ansi mnany
other Ilustrious meon employgdi -i. One
(lay Clecore 4rotc .from habit; in-'Tirdelian
signs to hid frieiid Atticus,' who cpoid not
undei'stand the letter. TIhb gieht, orator
then offered to teach him steniographly,anid
lie learned it in a very shmort time. Augus4tur
gave lessons in stenography to his gi'and
sons5. TIhe - old steiiographmic mejthod was'
preserved in France until thei elevenmth ceni.
L'iry', and letters from Louis le Debonnaire,
sun of Charlemagne, in TIironian characters
still exist. .In 1747' a iBenedhictline natned'
Pierr'c Carpentier, reformed -the . TIironiani
alphabet aiid published in Latin a volumue
on his new methiod.. At present, isono
graphy, wvhich is only practised by ai Isiw
writers, had beenmiteifled and ilpi-oved;
bpit it does'not appea-''to be -'shorter or
miore sImple than tiiat usetd in 'aintiqitty.
NIaved by a water ilumtb'it. .
The water buffalo Is an animal nmuch ina
ilse in tSingapore for. purpose of dIraught.
It Is a dull, heavy-loglunganimat, slowv at
work and disguting in appearance, but re
markab~le for sagacity andi attachnwent to
Its'nimtive keepers. It has, however, a par
ticular antipathy to a Eumropean, and~ wvili
immediately detect pim iin a cr'owde ,1ts
dislike to and courage ini attacking a (iger
is we4 known all pver India. Not long
ago, ams a Malayan boy, 'who was eipiod
by his parents in ierding 1ater b(4lfaloes,
was drivIig his .acharge; by? thO' borders of'f
the jungle a Uger nmado. iA suddoi p ring
and seized the hisd by the thigh. ain was
diragging hinm off, when'tiheo'two Qld bimffa-d
lees, hearing the shriek of distrhss fronm
thme well knowut Voice of their 'little attend
ant, turned around and clmmged with ,their
unual' rapidity .The tiger, thus cloacly
pressed, was obhmged t~o drop hii'prey '(o dpa
fend himself. WhileA olio bulfalo succede
fuhllr droib away the tiger thme'other kept
guard over the -boy., Later in theuevelig,
when the anxioua , fathei almrnmed, caispe
omit wi$h attedatLs tq seqk ,4ms child lhe
found thtat .h wJgole hierd with the exce,
tios Qf thme two old billfaltoes -bitl dhsperstd
theinshlves tb feed, 'but thhtusey-worg still'
thteke-:-one'standing ovei thmibleeding body
of their little- fridewhile .the otbu ks.ph4
*~tchdhthe edge of the junledfor time re
Pin thy faithb .o no 'r10 .'A Alt6v.o;
h at thou no't two eyes ot -timne own?9
FOOD. FOA T IOUQH'T.
Experienee is a fine word for suff
3rig.
.late mikes us #ehement paitisans,
but love more so.
Too 'reat econondi Iii youth lbads to
svaride In old age.
It Is best not to dispute Wheve there
is no p,ossibillity of,. convinocing,
kaperience iap a very poor memory
and true charity none at all...
Doing riothilIg Is thq rmos -p 'vish
toll eer 1h1noised on'any one
'T11 char11s whieh a Mhan dispenses
after hiscleatl look'suspcllotIg.
Adversity links-men.togetlhej;' while
prospglrty Is "Dt to sqafter toemI
H appinloss conslags in being liappy
bhere is no patrti'ulai rule forgit.
About all that bilnulnig. esuqo for a
man is to inak'e him rd Icrdu hatsf.
Gratitude ib-a debt' whijdhj men
owe and -whieh few pay chetiily.
If the Jord lead you in a rough way
t is.to keopyou humble before him.
Jezus lived for vou, a'id requires In
retuirn that you siionit live for lim.
uinok is he dream of aalhipleton; a
wise man makes his own good fort
pI~e,
Soine men seem to haye t% 'save for
:he woes of others,,hut none fo; their
Trro nldg4te'nee-is the fo ye6r of com
letely improssing oth d'rg' '*teh our
deas. '
It is in any 'One"; powet to he Rie
cssfil, if a man or woman In -At for
wVork.woaiflfo
Wh?%n a 1hpal has no .'esign lint to
tneak'plain truthi, he' *1't apt to be
talkative.
-Gabortau said : "The filetlitV of a
women is always in Oropnrt6ii to her
' L71Il ies.' I
. K owlhil1o witho t iLus'.ce boco'nes
irart; eotirage witlunt. roason beoones
r ishness.
All 'netdes were onceo enqviet(6, nn,l
mly changed booause they were ob
liged to,
The exprossion "6hey say "has black
neld 1not::h characters to make an
irmy of saints.
No 1ndulcgnce of 'jsaion destrov
tho spiritnal nature so much as respe'c
abI selfish ness.
Passionate men are like men who
stnnid on their heaids; they see all
thi'gs the wrong way..
It may seem para(i0xical, but the best
wiy to float a loan is with a heavy
sinking Itidid attached.
People'do not need to know more
aboat virtue, but- rather 'to .practice
that they already know,..
Ia is fjr more easy to pqu Oe a for
tuie lke a knavd thari tpnexpend it
like a gentlemnan.
No mnan-''ver ob'tn ninence
W ut ow iFtoth6 IWiuvhce of
qon6 ood -wolnata, -
Imposiblitles aro scarce. Mankind
has not seen more titai ialf, a dozen of
them si'ice the Cteation",
'Th hbiit d to constant'intercourse
w ith.sp rits'abov ou, instenal."f rals
In you, keeps yot down.
JndEe thyself wIth;i .a pndgement of
ipiefrity,-and thou wilt jidge .others
wlth i a.ljd vanent of charity.
ft isa grtit nisorfatnei n'o to have
Ltnough wit to speak vell, orenotJldg
ment to keop-silent.
Thhre.ts a fointain of bl d to cleasie
o r 41oul, and a fountain of supply to
I yotr Rouls. j - I -
Adversity do6 -notftake trbim us
true friends; is only dispels those who
pretqznded to be such..
TQuderuless and Its oultcome ;pit~y,
ire ak iiQp)aral1e fr'omi truie mainlines.'s
is true wvomanhindss.
A 8 long uis hoarts blat, as 1 g a if
5xists, in whateyet. age, froh or rgold
an, y'ou wvill fInd loye.
It ts-not only, arrogant,'butt is prof
ligate. for a. mn~n to disregard the
world's oplaulon of~ himns elf.
The first ing ie'ntoonv4r utlon is of
truth, the next frood'sduis6,"- th( third,
IrOnd' humor,- and. the fou'rth wit.
.Ejinvy is ai paspaloti so fill of~cowar.
lice aiAd, shamn that n~oody ever lhad
the'con fidenice tbowiI itsposa eton.
Thie time fotr retudonin'g isljf're we
liave approsched ' near 'enoif 'to tho
forbidden fruit to look ataud admire.
A fair cbrmpensaton'" for honest aer
vlco 1stiO boat presentyqus can make
an, and thi bogt gift he ogan re
If w& grieve thai Syirit Qt~id by Our'
l igh tness. worldi lnes,or' 'rauhmptiora
we do but ii'J nir ownl cup Wiib'wormu
wopd.aand gall. .,
,JHe who 18 false to.tlil ;fysent diuty
lUreaks a thread lI ; the loonfrigd will
see the eltect's whon the W~aiv ing of a
lifetime is nnravedi
Wealth Int this w'ori l 189e8690mugh
baggage to lie .Arken oaro ote but a outi
Livauted braina is easy .to carry aind is a
never-falling source of profit and plea
sure.
T1hose who are inteNded to (10 any
eminent servIce for IGod are always
em ptied &; sel f, atte ,led t9 gge the!r
unfitness for their pinferE idng; thten
they tt'ust siltplyo dod 0 f em anid
power, and Hie gets all-the glor '.
Our lives are spent in' either doing
nothiing at all, op In doIng nqth:ng to
then purpose, or in do.inug not~bing that
we oughit to dot We arei always on.
plainingouar days are feW, andi acting
as time igh there Would be no, end of
Aihe Jplst map~ is not the more rigid'y
eqatitale man; but the, mani who, un
der the Infihence of the prin~lples or
trnte religion, bnltes beneyoenceo with
kegheOgness:And Aektcin actkpf kind
.nes as well a, of gquiLy, toaft1lfil the
royal iaw.
If cheerfu)AosA and am ity are
Mfot ditativAted ilb h~Aie,%.tidifoss and
IihpatIend6 tv41 raoonnebb.. feflbwed by~
Ansolenco;ey ta, weena ewiteen Wdper
and is'al'nost dcitain to! Ghnned.
The one wvho ooethes Aheiissful by
1'8 dwnl eoffV le4Qubdtou a miser
.o1 iap tia g fl~i qof gnin
ei . 4 to de
is never Io.t