The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, May 24, 1881, Image 1
TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO, S. C., MAY 24, 1881. ESTABLISHED 1865.
"The sky is olouded, the rooks are baro;
The spray of thie tempest is white ii air;
The winds are out with the sea at play,
And I shall not tempt the sea to-day.
The trail Is narrow, the woods tre dh'n,
The panther clings to the arobing limb,
And the lion's whelps are.abroad at play,
And I shall not join in the chase to-day.
But the ship sailed safely over the sea,
And the hunters came from the chase in gleo
And the town that was buildod upon a rook
Was swallowed up in the eartLquako shook.
Trapped by an Heiress.
A cosici place than the big sitting-room
at Hillcrest would have been hard to find.
if one had traveled from Land's Ed to
John O'Groat's; and this eventful evening,
when the destines of two worthy people
were about taking definite form-two peo
ple who had never seen each other, and
who had heard of each other so often that
both were curiously eager to meet-on this
importaut evening the sitting-room at Hill
crest had never looked pleasanter or co
sier.
A huge fire of loga glowed like molten
carbuncles in the open fireplace; on the
table in the centre of the floor, whose cover
matched the glowing crimson of the carpet,
was a silver stand that held a dozen snowy
wax tapers, whose beaming light contrasted
exquisitely with the ruddy glow of the
fire.
Beside the table, in a big cushioned
chair, with his feet thrust toward the genial
wainmth on the hearth, his grey dressing
gown sitting comfortably on his portly
form, his gold-rimed glasses on his nose,
sat the owner and master of Hillcrest, Mr.
Abiah Cressiogton, rich, good-natured, ant
fond of his own way. Opposite him was
the mistress of the place-little, shrew-faced
merry Aunt Cornelia, his sister, who,
since her widowhood, has come to Hillcrest
to nlake her bachelor brolher's home as
pleasant as she could.
That she had succeeded was evident by
the way now in which he looked up from
a letter he had been reading-the confiden
tial, kindly way in which lie did it.
"Walter writes l curious letter mi response
to my invitation to come and spend a few
weeks at Hillerest as soon as lie gets over
his fatigue from his ocean voyage home,
after his five years' tour abroad. I'll read
it to you "
He leaned over the softly-glowing light,
and began the short, concise reply that
Walter Austin had written from his cham
ber in the Temple:
*'You are very kind, indeed, Uncle
Abiah, to ask me down to Hillcrest for as
long as I wish to stay, and I can assure
you that I have been so long a wanderer
that the idea of a home is very pleasant to
me. But when I take into consideration
the peculiar iinportance you propose at
taching to' my visit, I am unwilling to ac
cept the invitation. To mo the idea of
havIng my fancies and mclinatioau put
into harness, and to feel that I am on cou
tinual duty to win my way into the good
graces of my second cOusin, Mabel, whohi
you are good enough to wish me to
marry-" '
Mrs. Corneha interrupted sharly
"Abiah, you never went and told our
grand-nephew that you had In view his
marriage with Mabel?"
Her tone was energetic, almost repre
hensive.
"Why not? 1 certainly did. I told
him in my letter that it was a chance for
him he'd never get again, and that he
needn't feel under such terr'ble obligations
to take a fancy to Phil's little Mabel, but to
conic down and be cousinly, and if any
thing should happen. it'd be right all
around,
Mrs. CorIieha knitted vigorously, her
lavender cap ribbons quivering~ in the mel
low taper ghtaw.
"All 1 have to say is, you're-A fool,
Abilhl Walter is right. A young man
doesn't like to have his fancies under rein
and whip, and the very fact that we want
him to nmrry will make hinm indisposed to
do it. You've made a great mistake in the
beginning."
Mi. Cressington looked aghast at his sis
ter's determined face.
"Why, 1.really didn't suppose-"
"Of course you- didn't. It's only your
natural stupidity, yoe' dear old 'fellow!
Men are all alike. Don't. I know them like
a book? And you've ruined your hopes
for Mabel and Waiter at the v.ery outset,"
Mr. Cressington started discomfitedly.
"I am sure I ment .it all right enough,
Cornelia. I certainly wanted Waiter to
know what a little darling our Mabel te,
and what a nice little wife she would make
for any man,"
"Very commendable, indeed; only, if
you had consunlted me uponi the letter you
send I should have advised you to say noth
tag about Mabel or her charius, or~ her ex
pectations. I should have simply asked
him to come and see us, and have left the
rest to Mabel's blue eyes. You see now,
Abiah?"
kis lips compressed slowly,
"I think I. see. And my ho~pes in that
direction are all ruined."
Trhe silver needles clicked rapidly, and
the snow.whiite yarn came reeling mierrily,
off the ball under her arm.
"N4ot at all. Leave that to me, and I'll
see what con be done. Trust a womtait's
wit to get even a blundering olti fellow like
yourself out of a serape."
Bhe smiled and nodded, anid looked alto
getherso -mischievous thmat . Mr. Creasing
ton .jecte quite- excited over her little
mystery.
"Do explain, Cornehia."
And when she explained lie leaned back
in nla chair, with an expression of positive
awe andl admiration oi' his face.
"What a woman you are,,CIornehaI 1
dleclare, it beats anything I e'ver beard in
thme whole course of my life!"
e * *. * * * *
Af ter dusk, a glorious winter day, with
here arid there a star $winkling in the pale
gray sky, and sthe 1iglgt~ .and firee in thme
Hlicrest altting 6hmi-mgking an eldquenit
welcome to Waltr Austiht as hf ttoodl in
the midst of the home-'ircle,; t$1l, gehtle,
manly, handsome and sell-ppssesed.
Old Mr. Cressington~ wqa In hii. rIchest
humor as he led'forwa:cd two vounhg girls.
' Come don't be shy now, Walter, this is
your cousiMA,(e bnynd this is
yen. Mynephew, ?Ir, ,Walt Austin,girls.
And thi Iu.: Qraoellg-ypou 'r'emedber
well enough, ''?
And an th 1Aesediation was merrily
gotten over, and Waiter found himself at
-home i the liost pleasint family no'had
ever known.
They were remarkably pretty girls, with
deep blue eyes-although bliss Vance's
were decidedly the deeper blue add more
bewitching-and lovely, yellow-gold hair.
Walter found himself adnuring the Style
of Miss Vance's co-!ffur before he had
known her an hour; and when he went up
to Is room that night he felt ab if between
the two, roguish Mabel and sweet little
Irene. he would never come out heart
whole.
"For Mabel is a good little darling,"
thought he, "and 1 will take Oreatuncle
Ablah's advice and fall in love with her,
and thereby secure a generous share of the
Cressington estate. .igadl that's a happy
thought
hut the handsome young genlieman
went to sleep and dreamed, instead of
Mabel's laughing eyes, of Irene's gentle,
tender ones; and awoke somewhere in the
middle of the night, unable to get asleep
again for thinkiag of her.
And the after days were not much better.
Despite the golden value of Mabel, there
was something about Irene Vance that
made this headstrong fellow very foolishly
indifferent to the advice lie had sworn to
follow.
"Because, by Jove! a fellow would have
to be made out of granite to resist the sweet
shy ways of such a little darling as Irenel
And I'll marry her if she'll have me,- and
the money and property may go to the
dogs. I've a head and a pair of handsand
blue-eyed Irene shall not sufferl"
It was not an hour later that he met fier
in the hall, carrying great boughs of holly,
with which to testoon, down the walnut
staircase.
"Give me your burden, Irene," said he.
"Why did you not tell me you were going
to gather it, and let me go with you? It
is altogether too heavy a burden for 'your
arms to bear."
Lie managed to get the lovely sprays
from her arms, but it iequired an innense
amount of tardy effort on his part,and shy,
sweet blushing on her's.
"Answer me, Irene, Why didn't you
let me go with you? Wouldn't you have
liked it."
Hu demanded her answer in the most
captivating, lordly way, and she dropped
her eyes In great confusion.
"Then why were you so cruel to me?"
"1 am not ciuel to anybody. Indeed I
niust go now." S
Walter placed himselt squarely In the
way, and was looking down at hr rose
tinted face.
"No, you can't go yet. Irene, you are
cruel, or you would never deprive one of
the opportunity to enjoy the blessedness
of your society." His voice lowered ten
derly, and he dropped his head nearer her
golden curls. "You know I think it cruel
in you to be so distant, and shy, and re
served witn me-don't you, Irene?"
dhe shrank away, her lovely form drool)
ing inte a iny, nor enecas lianging out their
signals of distress and confusion.
"Oh, please doi't talk so to me. Indeed
I must got Mabel is waiting for the holly,
and she-they won't like it if-"
But she was a prisoner in his tight clasp.
"If what? If they find you and me
talking so conAdentially together?"
"No I mean if I don't take the holly
at once."
Walter put his arm around her waist be
fore she knew what he was doing.
"irene, look up. You shall not go un
til yon let me see in your eyes if you love
me as well as I love you! Irene, my dear
little girl, I do love you' very dearly!"
She was silent for one second, and he
saw the quiver of her red lips. Then' she
rained her nead slowly, shyly.
"You love me? Oh, Walter, what will
they all cay? Don't you know it is Alabel
you should say that to? I am niobody, and
Alabel is an heiress."
Walter had both arms around her by this
time, andi was looking ardently in her glow
i ng face.
'"[ know Mabel is an heiress, and a nice
little girl, and -I also knowv you arc a dar
ling, my darling--and the only girl I ever
asked to be my wife, or over saial ask!
Say yes, petl"
11is tones were hew and tender, but tri
umphant.r
"And you catz deliberately give up so
much, for only just me?"
11cr wondrous eyes met -his bravely now,
and thrilled him with .the love light ill
them.
"Only'jumt'you, my~own darhingi Why,
you are mioge than. all the world te me.
Come; wQ wi I go tell Uncle Abian at once.
Just one kiss first-you must!"
And lie had more thanu one or two~before
he led iier, blushing, with tears tremibling
on her lashes, like dilamfonds of a gokden
thread, to Uncle Abiah, who sat In his
itbrary with Mrs. Cornella, lnd ustriously
looking over a receipt book. They lookett
up in surprise-as Walter marched in, Irene
on his arm, a pictuire of conif~ion.
*"If you please, Uncle Abiah, I want
your blessiing and cordial consent to receive
this little girl for your niece. I love her,
andl she loves ime."
Uncle Abiahi looked shrewdly over his
glasses at Mrs. Cornelia.
. "Well, sister. what shall we say to this
youth's demnand?"
A broad smile of perfect delight was on
her mnery face.
"Say? Why, tell them yes, and wel
come; and let them know their Aunt Cor
iielia isn't a fool If their Uncle Abiah is."
Walter looked on astonished, and felt
Irene's hand tremble on his arm.
"What is it, dlear?"
She smiled through her tears as she look.
edl into his iquiring eyes.
"Oh, Walter, I am afraid you will bd
angry. I am Mabel after all, and-anid-'
"And'you have made love to your cousin
the heiress, in spite of yourself, my boy.
So HIll'reat is a foregone fate-, after all,
"Don't scold, please Walterl'' Mabel
pleadled, in a low yoice, with her blue1 eyes
looking into his.
"As If I couldl scold you, my love!
Since I have you, what need I care?"
And Mrs. Cornella turned over the leaves
of tihe receibt-book until Bile camne to 'wed
ding~ take," and avers that she imaade the
match herself.
Proud hearts anid lofty maonutais
are alwyays barren.
We sihould do good to an enemy and
mak h~m oui' friend.
The heart 'ought to give charity,
when the hand cannot.
Pride that dinfas on vanity, sups on
contomge
The Squirrel a Bold Leaper..
One reason doubtless, why squirrels are
so bold and reckless in leaping I bro ugh the
trees Is that if they miss their hold the fa'l
will not Ikurt then. Every spccis of
tree-squirrel seems to be capable of a sort
f rudimentary flying--at least of making
itself into a parachute, so as to case or
break a fall or a leap from a great height..
rho so-called flying-squirrel (oes this the
most perfectly. It opens its furry vest
ments, leaps into the air, and sails down
the steep inchne from the top of one tree
to the foot of the next as li htly as a bird.
But. other squirrel know the ame trick,
Duly their coat-skirts are not so broad. One
day my dog treed a red squirrel in a tall
hickory that stood in a meadow on the
side of a stee) hill. To st. what the
squirret would do when closely pressed, I
linbed the tree. As I drew near he took
refuge in the topmost.bratnch, and then, as
[ come on, he boldly leaped into the air,
spread himself out upon It, and, with a
gulck, tremulous motion of his tail and
legs, descended quite slowly and landed
upon the ground thirty feet below me,
ipparently none the worse for the leap, for
he ran with great speed and escaped the
log in another tree. -
A recent American traveler in Mexico,
gives a still more stfiking instance of this
power of squirrels pattially to neutralize
tise force of gravity when leaping or failing
through the air. Some boys had caught a
Mexican black squirrel nearly as large as a
nat. It had escaped from them once, and,
when pursued, had taken a leap of sixty
[ect from the top of a pine tree (Iown upon
he roof of a house without injury. This
,eat had led the grandmother of one of the
joys to 1icelare that the squirrel was be
wvitched, and the boys proposed to put the
natter to further test by throwing the
(iuirrel down a precipice six hundred feet
sigh. Our traveler interfered, to see that
;he squirrel had fair play. The prisoner
wvas conveyed in a pillow-lllp to the edge
)f the cliff and the slip opened, so that he
night have his choice whether to remain a
aptive or to take the leap. He looked
town the awful abyss and then back and
sidewise-his eyes glistening, his form
rouching. Seeing no escape in any other
lirection, "Ihe took a flying leap into space
tud fluttered rather than fell into the abyss
Jelow. Hlis legs began to work like those
)f a swinining poodle-dog, but quicker
mud quicker, while his tail, slightly ele
rated, spread out like a festher fan. A
'abbit of the same weight would have
nade'the trip in about twelve seconds; the
quirrel protracted it for more than half a
ninute," and "landed on a ledge of lime
stone, where we could see him plainly
;quat on his hind legs and smooth his
1ifled plumage, after which he made fur
he creek with a liourish of his tail, toik a
rood drink and scampered away into tb
villow thicket."
The story at first blush seems incredible,
)ut I have no doubt our red squirrel would
save made the lean. safAly: 1.hen whi, n-1
ae great 0m8K squirrei, since its parachute
vould be proportionately large ?
Tie tiils of the squirrels are broad and
ong and flat, not short and smsall like
hose of gophers, chipmunks, weasels, and
)ther ground rodents, and when they leap
>r fall through the air the tail isarcho and
-apidly vibrates. A squirre!'s tail, there
[ore, is something more than a llag; it not
)nly aids im in flying, but it serves is a
lok, which he wraps about hiin when he
sleeps. Thus somne aniials put their tails
tu various uses, while others seem to have
ao use for them whatever. What use for
) tail has a wood-chuck, or a weasel, or a
mnouse? Has not the mouse yet learned
that it could get in Its hole sooner if it had
io tail? The mole and the meadow-mouse
save very short tails. Rats, no doubt,
put their tails to various uses. The rabbit
iss no use for a tail-it would be in its
wiay; whle its manner of sheepinig is
much that it does not need a tail to tuck
tself up with, as do the 'coon and the fox.
l'he dog talks with his tail; the tall of the
'possums is prehensile; the porcupine uses
is tail in climbing and1( for defelse, the
beaver as a tooi or trowel; while the tail of
lhe skunk serves as a screens behind which
t msks its terrible battery.
Weodding Fashaions.
'Tie old. Amercenn fashioni of thme brides.
masids, witl) attend~ant cavaliers, enstering
thme s o anr or church arm in arm is entirely
broken up, asnd the gentlemen usshers, whoe
seat the conmpany ansd who manage the
business of the weddimg ini the chsurchs, are
comipelled to enter first, withosut the solae
of a feiinie hand 0on the coat, sleeve. But
this cha~nge is for the better.
A bride-elect begins, sometimes three
months before her weddnsig (lay, to invite
her bridesaids, for there are dresses to be
msade and gifts selected. Thels grooms
chooses his best man and hsis ushers, of
whom there sire genserally six. Tlhecse
gentlemsen receive tronm him cravats andt
scarf-pins, and the groom I requently gives
eamch bridesmaid a Joek et. Th'le bride often
gives tack of her bridesmaids, of whsom
thmere asre also generally six, some1 small
token of her rcgasrd ; but not, as formerly,
her dIress. Bouiquets are always provideo
by the bide for her bridesmaids.
*'The church must be engaged for a fort.
night, ahead, to avoid the gloomy catastro
phe1 of meeting a funeral comning oust, which
'hias happened, and( whichs Is, of course, dhe
pressing. T1hse clergymans and organist
boils need( 1 ime0 to get. thsemiselves in ordler;
and the fiosist who is to dlecorate the altar
with fresh cut flowers and growIng plants,
also needs time ; he ailso should have plenty
of warning.
Whens tihe happy day arrives, thme bead
usher goes to the church an hour before
the tinme, to see thsat a white cord is
stretched across the aisle, reserving pews
enough for tihe famIly ahd particular
friends, and( to see, in fact, that all details
are attendhed to.
TIhme ghsors shsould 1)0 in attendlance
early, to seat people In' convenient places,
andl good nmnners ansd careful attentions,
p~articularly to elderly people, masuke life.
long triendls for these young gentlemneis am
the wedd~inigs where theoy,oflleiate. When
time brmide's mother arrives, the white cord
Is dropped, and s~he is takens to uhe front
seat, all tihe fandsly friends take thieir
piaces near- her ini adljoining pews.
'[hens the clergy come m anid take tior
places at, theo sdtar, followed by tihe groom
amid his best mail, Who haY6 .bceen'hafely
guaor ded in time vestryrooms. 'Tho groons
looks ,down the aisle to watch for hsis
coming bride. Thie organ strIkes up tihe
,weddsng march' as the first couple of ushors
are seen enteriflg time churchi door. They
come in slowly, t~wo anrl twon followed by
the bridesmaids, who bear bouquets of one
color.
Then the bride enters, leaning on her
father's arin. A very pretty and beconing
fashion Is for the bride to wear her veil
over her face, throwing it back at the altar;
but this Is a matter of taste.
Tie ushers part comipany, going to the
right and left, and remain standing on the
lower step of the altar. The bridesmaids
also move t.o the right and left, next the
altar rail, leaving a space for the couple
who are to be married. Tie bride is taken
by the hand by the groom, who receiycs
her from her father as she mounts the first
step.
The service then procecds, the organ
playing very softly until the prayer, when
the music stops, and all join in time familiar
words. Then the blessing is given, the
clergyman congratulates the bride, and the
young people turn to leave the church, fol
lowed by all the bridesnaids and ushers in
reverse order.
Alaids are in waiting In the vestibule to
cloak the bride and her attendants as they
conic out from this pageant into the cold
and dangerous air. This is a great ex
posure, and often leads to trouble; our
churches all need larger vestibules. The
bride and groom return to the house of the
lormer, followed as quickly as possible by
the bridesmaids, and stand to receive their
friends under a floral bell, or a floral arch,
Dr sone other pretty device. The brides.
mnsids are ranged on either side, and the
ushers (whose place is no sinecure) bring
up the guests in order to -present to the
liappy pair. The bride's inother, vacating
[he place of hostess for tile nonce, stands
it the other end of the room to talk to her
friends, and to also receive their congratu
lations. Of course her oivn family are
illowed to kiss -the bride first.
The bride remains at her post an hour
tnd a half, then leaves the room to ascend
tud dress far her bridal tour. She comes
lown in the quiet dress fitted for traveling
n this country (where the bright blue
velvets anld shiny ailk5 which are used in
England for bridal trips are not allowed,
)robably owing to the fact that our railway
rains are more public and less clean than
hose of the British Isle), and bids her
riends good-bye. Getting into the carriage,
:odewed by the groom, the young piair- are
Iriven off under a shower of rice and
ilippers, which are thrown after them for
uck.
flow the Itusian Keeps Warm.
The Russians have a great nak of mak
ng their yinLer pleasant. You feel noth
Ug of the cold in those tightly built
ouses where all doors and windows are
loubled, and where the rooms are kept
wYarm by big stoves hidden in the walls.
rhere is no damup in a Russian house,
ind the inmates may dress indoors in the
ightest of garbs, which contrast oddly
with the mass of furs and wraps Which
hey don when going out. A.lussian can
eaves tle ho>use rI fo eg$osure whe'n he
-overs his head and ears with a fur bonnet,
us feet and legs with lelt.boots lined with
Noo or fur, which are drawn- over the
>rdinary boots and trousers, and reachm up
,o the knees;' he next cloaks himself in a
.op coat with iur collar, lining aud culfs,
me buries his hands in a par of lingerless
fioves of seal or bear-skin, T'hus equipped,
Lad with the collar of his coat raised ali
Around so that it imlles him ilp to the
eyes, the Russian espOes only his nose to
me cold air; and he takes care frequently
Lo give that organ a littie rub to keep tile
circulation going. A stranger, who is apt
to forget the precanution, would often get
his nose fri zen if it were not for the cour
tesy e1 the itussians, who will always warn
him if they see his uose "whiLtening," and
will, unuidden, h .p him to chafe it vigor
ously with snow. In lusiAn cities walk
tng is just po&Asble for ineu dating w inter
out hardily so for ladies. ' ie wonmen o1
t e ,o.vez order wear kLee boots; those of
the shiopiteeping cJlass suide~m venture out
at all; thiose of the aritoracy go out in
sleighs. ' ie - leighs aire by no necans
picaSant, vehiicies "or n. rv'ous people, for
tleelKalinuck coachunten drive tunm at such
a teirulic pace tunI Lriey ireqitently capsize;
lin persons not desitute oi pluick linmu their
antiiion most enjoyale. 1t must be aunded'
that to be spilled out of al ihsianx sleigh isI
tantaimount only to getting a rough tumble
out of a soit mattress, for Lue very thick
furs in which the victiam is sure to be
wraplped will be u:iougn to bm'ak the fam.
'Tne notes and ho~veiso ci ussian working
etiasses are as wecll watrmed as 'those of the
aristocracy. A sttve is aiwhmys the puin
empal itemi of furniture in l.him, kud these
eonveniencees are used to sleep on asm weli
a5 coin .- ' ie mnujica, haiving no bed,
curls uaiaself up on hius stove aL Is time
1om g(oing to rest. donj.etnnues lie iy be
iound creeping right itnto ine stove and cin
joying the dehinm of a vapor bank,.
Wite Materials froma Townos.
Nearly every farmer goes to the nearest
village to trade, visit a mechanic, or obtain
his letters and papers, at least once a week.
lie often takes a load to market, but, he
rarely brings one hiomec. ieo can, witu
very little trouble, haul a loaid of material
that may be obtained for not-hing, and
wvhich will be of great benelit to his land.
Mlost village people make nto use of the
ashes produced ini their sieves or of the
bones takeni fronm the meat, they consume.
Searcely any brewer has any use for the
hops that, have beeni boiled iii his vats, and
tihe lauckSmiith hardly ever saves the cliip.
pings he takes f rota the feet of horses. All
these materiala maked( eixcellenit mi inure. A
barrel of shamvings cut, from tihe hoofs of
horses, cointains lncre ammliotuia than is coin
tainedt in a load of stable manuire. Applied
Lt) land without, prepalrationl, they ight
give no Immediate r'esults,' but, they wouild
beucomie secompjosed .in tiia, and1( croips of
all kindsmvotuld derive benefit from them.
They may lbe so treated that they would
produtce immediate results. By covering
them with Iresh horse manure they wiil
d:-con pose vety raipidily. 'They may also
lbe ieached~ in a barrel anad the water that
covered them drawn off and applied to
lants. W ater -in which pieces o1 horns
anid hoofs have been soaked is ant excellent
manure for plants that require forcing.
It stuimulates the growth of -tomatoes, rose
bushes, aiid house plants very rapidly, and
emits no oftcosive odors. A vast, amotint
of fertilizink material is wasted ia towns
that farmers' could obtain the benefit of
with very little trouble
Our ideas, 11ke p'etures, we made tup
of lights and shladowys.
I1 Take a Gross.
While the proprietor of the Malson
Dorce, Now York,was standing behind the
counter the other day, catching thes foi
currant cake, and wishing that a little of
the business wave that the Eastern paper
say so much about would slop over into hi
restaurant, as it were, a young man, with
a beaming smile on his face and a big boi
under his arm entered.
"Don't want any sleeve-buttons, noi
nothin'," growled the dyspepsia distributor,
glancing at the box.
"No, nor I," said the stranger, affably,
depositing the box on the counter, and re
moving the id. "But what you do want
is the greatest invention of recorded time
-the restaurant keeper's friend-the board
ing house keeper's salvationl"
"Roach poison?" said the steak stretcher
contemptuously.
"No, sir," retorted the young man, tak
ing a handful of singularly-shaped objects
out ofthe box. "Something that beats the
phonograph and the telephone all hollow.
I refer to the "Skidniore chopl"
"What's that?"
"Vhy, it's the most economical device
of modern times, and I'll prove It right
here. Suppose you are serving a dinner to
say a dozen poisons? Now, how imany
chops do Vou usually put on the table?"
"Well, about two apiece. say twelve,"
-'And how many are eaten ?"
"liui about four."
"Exactly-that is about the average, as
our restaurant statistics show. As a mat -
ter of course, however, you are compelled
to cook three times as nuch as you need th
make a show. Now, if you could save six
chops every dinner for a year it would
amount to-"
"A fortune," said the nan of cutlets ea
gerly. "All we can do with 'em now is to
wrk 'emt over into hashes."
''Peace to your hashes," said the agent;
"all this ruinous waste is now prevented
by the introduction of sonic dish of the
patent Skidmoic Indestructible Rubber
Chop, put up in packages of one dozen,
and warranted for live years, ' and the
teod economizer exhibited sonic life-like
imitations of cooked mutton chops.
"Looks like a grood scheme," said the
conductor of stews, thoughtfully; "but
don't the customer ever-"
"Ever tumbie? Not in the least. He
only notices that one chop is tougher than
the other, ana finally get his fork in and
chews ahead. The smaller ones come
higher, as they are made of a little more
limber article of rubber, for limb chops.
Can't be told from the genuine by the
naked eye. AM you have to (io is to grease
'em on both sides, warn 'emi up a little,
and serve thiem mixed in with the others
same as uRual."
"Seems like they are about as tender as
the regulation kind," said the restauranter,
jabbing one with a fork. "Don't they
ever get eaten by mistake?"
"INo-no-that is, not now. We (lid
lose a fnw t-a - - - s..
U8 iV t Oen.I 11,b m in. fn& i n,,wi...
8ift happen any more unless they will
swallow them whole. Wily, here's a-speci
me0n that's been in use in a Chicago eating
saloon there for yeas, night and (lay, and
you can't see tWe first tooth print in it yet."
" 4 hat settles it," said the restauralter,
I'll take a gross."
"1 thought you would," said the chop
agent, as he tookE Iowa the order and em
phatically declined an invitation for some
lunch. "I will drop around in a few days
and show you samples of soei soft, white
rub'jer lobsters we are getting up espec
ially for the country trade-niake the best
article of indestructible salad ever known,"
and lie shouldered his box and walked off
in the direction of Baldwin's Hotel.
Wasinmgton's isroakfast.
"Is Mrs. Miller at home ?"
"She is ; walk Iln."
The modest little room into which (lhe
visitor was usheredl containedl another
occupanlt, an elderly lady, who was dohig
seone washing, and whom the visitor took
for no0 other than Mrs. Miller herself.
" Is this Mrs. Miller ?" lie askedl.
"Oh)I, n1o," sid the elderly lady. "Shde's
upi stairs."
"'Not sick I" said( thle visitor.
"No, not what you would call sick.
Sh's been aihn1 a goad bit the last few
(lays. She's gettm' 01(d now."
"Is it true that she *s a hundred and flye
years 01(1 ?"
Both ladies smiled. "'No,'' saidl the
stout lady presently, "' that's a mistake.
She's only a hundred andl four.''
"So oldl as thati"
"Oh, yes; there's noe miistake about it.
The record of her birth is ini her Bib~le.
She was born in 1777.
Th'le visitor was inivitedl up, and, entering
a neat bed-room, saw an elderly lady sit
ting up in bed, with a white capI on and
waiting an introduction.
In the course of the opening con versation
the visitor remarked: " I've beeni told that
you are a hundl~red and fiye years old. Ii
it. so ?"
"No,'' saidl the old1 lady, emlphlatically;
"'it isn't true; I'm only a hunldredl and foui
years old."
" And It's been said thlat you met (Icorge
WashlingtonI"
"I cooked Washington's breakfast for
him once," saidt the old lady, unconcerned
ly, " andi after that, 1 pult bread andi butter
in htis satchel and he left our house and
went off to fight arnd gained the day."
'' Th'lis is true," said the other ol(l ladly,
nlodduing; "she has told us that mimy a
time."
"Yes," went oin Mrsi. Miller ; " I never
slroll forget that time I got him his break
famst. I got hiim such a nice breakfast, pie,
dIriedl beef and things like thlat, and( whenl
lie came to the table the poor 01(d soul
couldn't eat anything hut bread and butter.
ie salid It would maitke him sick. I never
shall forget thlat time."
" Tell about the prayin' m the thorn
hush as you've told us mnany a time," saidl
0110 of the oilier women.
''011," said the old lady, 4' I'll never
forget that eithler. We hieardl him prayin'
first thing in the 1mo0 ning an' didnll't know
what It was. And old1 Daddy Ilines, the
man that I lived with, said( ho would ge
out and see whlat it was, amid lie went, out
andi there he saw Washingbmn kneoling
(Iowa behind a thorn buish near the stable,
and witht his Bible open before him a.
prayip-."5'
'/D1addy ines waited till lie was
llouigh prayin', then lhe Invited hinm lntc
thb.plouse. And whoa he went away fron
our 1ouse lie gained the day."
"I ut tell what happened when lhe came
into he house I"
"wby, when ho came in," saId the old
lady, "Daddy lines asked in, 'Why
didn't you come in the house and stay all
night.?' he said. And Washington said:
' Oh, well, I was so tired I just went into
the barn last night and I fell (own on a
pile of hay, and I haven't slept so good for
months as I slept there.' "
" Then what did he do ?" asked the first
old lady.
" Then," said the former acquaintance
of Washington, "he sat down to breakfast,
but the poor old soul couldn't eat anything
but bread and butter, for fear of it making
him sick and keepin' him from gainin' the
day.
Alter breakfast I packed lils satchel. 1
got pies an' dried beef in it an' he nade
me take 'em out. le said: 'Oh, my dear
child, I duren't eat anything like that; It
would make me sick. I can only eat bread
and butter. So I had to take them all out
and put in bread and butter. I felt so
sorry for the poor old soul that he couldn't
cat anything else. After that lie cante in
toward Philadelphia, where his soldiers
were on a high hill.
"And did you eve- see him after that ?"
"No, but I attended his mock. funeral at
Pottstown when he died. It was a grand
funeral."
" What hilt was it where hils men could
shoot down so nice ?" asked the first old
lady.
'The hill," said the second old lady,
where lie gained the dlay."
All t'urther qudstioniug failed to elicit
the fact of the location of the lill, the old
lady's invariable answer and tier nearest
clue to it being always the same-" the
pilace wliere he gained the day." Upon
further conversation it was also learned
that she had two venerable pictures, one of
Washington, and one of his wife, in the
form of prints, which had been taken
shortly after the revolutionary war. These
pictures the old lady stated she had given
to her physician, Dr. Evans, of Seventeenth
and Pine streets, who had expressed some
admiration for theni.
"It you go to Dr. Evans, he'll sh:>w
themn to you," said the second old lady.
A visit was then made to Dr. Evaus. On
the walls of hIs ouilee hung the identical
prints with Washington in snowy cravat
and powdered hair ai.d his wife with high
Elizabethan collar and a stately bodice
the old cracked frames showing that the
plctureR belonged to no preseut age.
The doctor's account ot Mrs. Miller was
that lie had known her for five years and
that within the last few months her mnic
ory had been falling. " 'lhere can be no
doubt," said lie, " but 104 years is her
right age and that she has sefo Washington.
I have seen the record of her birth in her
Bible. Bhe was born in 1777. She haia
been married twice, both husbands and her
first child being dead. But her second
child is upwards of 70 years old. She was
born in Essex township, Berks county."
The old lady's unusual ago is evidently
a matter of secondary importance to her.
A few months ago, heri r
Snot iceing well. Ktnowmng itat sie
was addicted to taking snuff the doctor
jokingly reiarked.
" See here cld lady, the trouble with yt u
is that you use too much snuif. You
ought to break yourself of that habit, for
it, may cause your death one of these days."
"No, (IOctor," said t(he old lady ; shaking
her head, "it, isn't the snutf. When I was
a little girl they miade ine work hard on
the farm, toad oi ity and grain in harvest
time, and it's that that's breakin' in downk
at 1,his age."
Deti - 4ta Ire
-The boys were situng around in Vic.
Muller's saloon, Carion City, talking about
hard times, and of course their conversa
Lion drifted into the stock narket, and the
reporter untied his cars and took notes.
'Don't talk to ic about stocks,' said a
little red-headed man. 'If a man was to
give ine a point in the d- strap gamie I'd
lit him right in the niose. I've sworn off.'
'1I hat's the business,' said another i ap
p~rovlngly.
'Ever sinice I came to this country,' said
the first, speaaer, 'I've Deen buck ia' at the
gamne right along, losan' ali the while.
Btock dealIn' is the slickest cotubination
ever cooked lip to rake a muan's pocket.
liighway robbery's not, a circumstanuce. If
I was to go down into Sierra Nevada and
ae a cfoss-cut 20)0 feet long runnin' slap
bang Into a solid body of goldt 9991 tbie, and
when 1 come out if ia 11nan was to offer me
a thousand shares for my old hant here,
bust me wide open if I wvouldn't belt him
on thme head with a brick aiid freeze to the
lint. If 1 ever get taken in againm it's my
fault.'
Th'le red-headled mani wvalked ofl', leaving
the crowd much upressed, and at the
street. corner lie overheard a imiin say to
another:
'She's a buy; you bet your boots shie's a
buy.'
'Whbat's that ?' said the bear, pricking
up lisa ears.
'I was just sayin' that Sierra Nevada wvas
a buy.'
'Really thInk sol'
'Thie boys are takIng In all the stock
they can get onm Pine street.'
'You don't, say so 1'
'Fair'sgot the control of thme tunnel I'
lihe devil I'
'Mackay's conic back from Eu~aropo,'
'holy Moses I'
'Thecy've ruin a dliamond~ dIri Iito the
two thiousand, and she's richer'n hot, iiush.
Thle true business rolled in sand. Tmis Is
(lead sqluare
'I lie red-hecaded mian heard no more, but
inside of fifteen mnites lhe was in a law
yer's ollIce getting hibn to fIx thme papersCt
for a mortgage on Ihis house so that he
could take a thousanid shares on a margin
before the next boardl.
ChIoc,,i., f c.
For those who wvishm to keep ihe hnaginia
tiomi fresh and vIgorous, ehocolate Is the
beverage of beverages. However copuiously
you have lunched, a cuD of chmocolate imi
mediately afterward will produce dIgestion
three hours after, aiid prepare the way for
a goodt diner It Is recommned to every
one who decvotes to braln-work theo hours
he should pass in bed; to every wit who
fInds lie has become sudIdenily dull, to all
who finds the aIr dampni, the tiime long, and~
the atmosphere insupportable; and, above
all, to those who, tormented with a fIxed
Idlea, have lost their freed'm of .thought.
To makeo chocolate (It must, never be cut
with a knilfe) an ounco and a half Is re
qisite for a cup. Dissolve it gradually in
hot water, stirrimg it the while with a
wooden spoon; let It boil for a 'juarter of
an hour,and szrve it hot with mIlk or with
out, acrding totiarc.
FOOD FOR THOUGHT.
True courage In unassuming; true
piety, serious and humble.
Earnestness 01 purpose can spring
only from strong convictions.
The way of the world is, to make
laws, but follow customs.
To get rid of a bad friend, ask him
for what you most need.
Reason Is the test of ridicule-not
ridicule the test of truth.
There is a limit ab which forbear
ance ceases to be a virtue.
Our actions are our own; their con
sequences belong to Heaven.
Kindness is the golden chain by
which society 1s bound together.
Circumstances do not make a man
half so often as a clean shirt.
When Is a man obliged to keep his
word ? When no one will take it.
People who converse at the top of
their voices are not hig.d toned.
Trout should never be base ball play
ers. Too many go out on the fly.
Avoid the slanderer as yo'l would a
wasp.g There is poison in his tale.
Strychnine will cure longevity, but
the remedy i8 worse than the disease.
Traits of character which you seek to
conceal you had better seck to reform.
Never judge by appearance. A see
dy coat may cover a heart In full bloom.
The gout may said to be a beacon on
the rocic of luxury to warn us against
It.
That laughter costs too much which
is purchased by the sacrifice of decen
cy.
Pedantry consists in the use of words
unsuitable to the time, place and com.
pany.
In virtue and in health we love to be
instructed as well as physicketd with
pleasure.
A manI'd gooa brooding is the bast
security against other people's ill man
oiers.
LfAe, like the water of the sea fresh
ens Only when it ascends towards lia
Veil.
Hlope is a leaf of joy, whieh may be
beaten out to a great extension, like
rold.
It is better to improve by other
people's errors than to tfnd fault with
them.
Ail things are admired either because
they atre new, or because they are
Genius of the highest kind imies
an unusual intensity of the modifying
po wer.
liumihlity is of all graces the chiefest
when 1IL dosn't know itself to be a grace
iat all,
In order to look spruce is not
cessary that you slm."a -.
~SLudy books 60 K1Iu, iuw, tnings
oughtto be; study min to know how
things are,
Mercy and truth are met together;
righteousness and peace have kissed
each other.
The road to ruin is always kept in
good order, and those who travel it pay
the expenses.
1hole years of joy glide unperceived
away while sorrow counts the minutes
as they pass.
Many a youth has ruined himself by
forgeting h is identity and trying to 14e
somebody else.
The whisper of a beautiful woman
can be heard further than the loudest.
yell of duty,
Thera Ia very little use in making to
day cloudy because to morrow is like
ly to be SLOrmy.
In memory's mnellowed light we be
held not the thorns: we see only the
beautiful flowers.
A man that keeps riches and enjoys
them niot, is like an ass that carries
go:d and eats thistles.
The sublimity of' wisdom Is to do
these things living which are deslired
to be when dying.
It is no vanity for a man to pride
himself on what lhe has honestly got
and prudently uses.
Let him who regrets the loss of tIme
miake proper use of that which is to
come in the future.
Ideas generate ideas; like a potato,
which, LIut in iices5, reproduces Itself'
in a multiplied form.
When a man speaks the truth you
may counit pretty surely that he posses.
ses most other virtues.
15ecasure, like qicksilver, Is bright
anid sky. if we strive to grasp it It still
eludes us and still gltters,
Thiat best portion of a good man's
life-is little, niamneless unre mer..
oered aets of kindness and of love.
If you wvon't listen to reason when
you are young you will get Your
knuckles rapped when you are old.
In the quiet of the early morning we
ihould laden our hearts with kindness
ad good wvill, for use during the day
To endeavor to work upon the vul
~ar with line sense is like-attempt!ng
to how blocks of marble with a razor.
IDo that which is right. The respect
of mankind ffi11 follow; or, if it do
nout, you will be a ble to do without it.
"Thetobook to read," says Dr. Mc
Cosh, "Is not the one which thinks for
you, but the one which makes you
in k."
Most'historians take pleasure is put.
-ang in the mouths of princes what
thneyhavo neither said nor ought to
'tave sai.
if you would be known and not
<now, vegetate In a yvillage; if you
vouild know and not be known, live in
m city.
lleaven's gates are wide enough to
radmiit every sinner in tihe un yerge
waoe is pceattent, but too nari-ow to ad
nit a single sins.
A physIcian uses various meothods
~or tne recovery of sioc persons e. anu
hioiru all of them are disamgreeable,his
jauen..s are neover angry.
No man, for any considera~ble period
an wear one face to him self arnd an
other to the multitude without flaiy
getting bewildered as to which may be
true.
1t is true in matter 01 estates as of
our garments, not that which is lar(
ost, but that which fira us best, Is best
for us. Be content with subh thingq
as ye have,.