The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, April 03, 1883, Image 4
|ach heart-apaaguimh of is owin,
.hich nlone but O0d can k46*:
Zach son) finds sorrow whonalgone,
O'er which ths tears will now
Oad tear yet sweet, since fo ojVr sake
They haVO been givo0 lestheart might break,
And there are others, lighter woes
And trials whfoh we bear,
Dut which each 410ati Oppressed well knows,
How sweet it is to share
With some loved One, whose words of cheer
Like st'inhs or music greet the ear.
Heaven's richest messings then for him
Who lingers at your side,
Who lists while his eyes grow dim,
And longs to guard and guide
Life iS too short to sigh and moan,
As hearts must do that strLve alone.
T.S WILPOW's iLT.
"No," said Mr. Murray, in the lugu
brioup, minor tone to whieh he had
acustomed himself until he had almost
forgotteh that he had any other, "I'm
not very well, I never am very well, you
know, Sister Sarah. In fact, I never
oxpect to be very well."
Sister Sarali, a plump, cheerful little
widow, wiih bright brown&hair, eyes to
match, and a dimple in either cheek,
looked bewildered.
"I'm very sorry," said she.
"All this is quite now to me, Brother
Matthew.
"I had always supposed that you were
in the enjoyinent of exoellent health."
Mr. Murray shook his head in a pen.
sive, oscillatory way, which, was very
impressive.
"Is it anything chronio?" asked Mrs.
Hayward, which was the name by which
the world in gendral knew Sister Sarah.
"It's a general giving way of the
-whole system," said the invalid.
"44,&L-ilmannl says g
- 13 so
peculiar an ( d a case."
"But," meekly interposed Mrs. Mur
ray, who was a pretty young woman
many years her husband's junior,
"Doctor Monroe says that people may
to a great degree, control their ailments;
and it does seem to me that Matthew is
disposed to take a gloomy view of his
troubles, because--"
"My dear Ethel, you know nothing
about it," said her*husband, with an
energy, which, consilering the low ebb
of his physical (orces, gemed almost
supernatural-'"nothing at all about it!
And Monroe, although I do not deny
that he is a good physician, is too apt to
advance startling theories.
* '-t's'the fault,of young practitioners,"
"But what is your complaint, Mat
thew?" said puzzled Mrs. Hayward.
"It's the heart, they tell me," said
Mr. Murray, sighing: "the great head
contre of the system, you know.
"And the circulation of tht bloed
seems defective, and altogether thmgb
are deranged generaliyl"
"Oh, dear, dearl" said Mrs. Hayward
hor round visage gradually lengthen.
.ug.
'"This is very bad-very bad, indeed "
"1 may live for a year." said Mr.
Murray, closig his eyes and feeling
instinctively for the camphor bottle, "or
I may bo summoned to a brighter and
boter world in a month.
"Or," with visible enjoyment of the
rensation he was ;1rodtuing-"I may
drop down at your 100et this next min
ute."
Mrs. Murray's pretty little rosebud of
a face became full of troubled unc-or
tainty.
"Matthew," said she, "I wish you
would not talk in that way."
"My doar Ethel, how can I help it?"
said Mr. Miurray.
"I am unuor a doom, and life scomns
receding from me."
"But you imust not let it recede,"
"E'thel," spoke the husband, "this Is
at once irreverent and cruel!
"Pray do not rack my nerves with any
further discussion; and, Ethel"
"Well, diear," said Ethel, with tears
in her eyes.
"What has your cook prepared for
the evening meal?
"Of course, I have no appetice-none
whatever; but if there should be any
trilles which might tempt mo--"
"Broiled quails on toast, my dear,"
said Ethlel,
"I thought as Sister Sarab had just
arrived (from a journey she might want
something more substantial than a cup
of tea."
Bat the Invalid shook huis head.
"I couldn't touch a morsel of quail,"
said lie.
"Sweetbreads, clear?"
"Don't mention them!" with a gesture
of disgust.
"And cream bn.aouita, witit honey in
the comb, and a little quince marmna
lade!" added Mrs, Murray, her wistful
eyes fixed on her hiusbami's face.
"All of them would be rank poison to
a person of my precarious dligestiv'o
powers," said Mr. Murray.
"It is very strange, Ethel, that that
- cook of yours displays so little discrimi
nation."
"Oouldn't I order soething to be
cooked for you, Matthew?" said the
young wife, meekly.
"I'm sure," said Mr. Murray, "no one
could ever comprehend how impossible
it is to make a wvoman understand that
the appetite needs to be s'%rprised.
"The idea of asking inc to dictate my
own supper."
"But you see, dear we don't know."
"Some people never knowv," said Mr.
Murray, petulantly.
"Well, tell your woman if she can
stew a few oysters to a turn, and make
me a cup of black coll'ee with a little dry
toast and just a chip of broiled ham, and
an egg or so, fried, [ might possibly find
myself able to oat a little."
So Mr. Murray's supper went up to
him, and came down a beggarly array
of empty plates.
'Poor dear," said his wife, "he has
-such an appetite for an invalid."
"It's my honest belief, ma'am, and
Mrs. Hayward's," said the cook, "as
master ain't a grain sicker than you and
I be. It's all his notions."
"Jane,'' said Mrs. Murray, "you must
niot talk so."
But wvhen the cook had retired, Mrs,
Hay wara cried out
"Ethel, the woman is right."
"He isn't siek!" declared Mrs. Hay
ward.
"B3u Doctor Ddimann asserts that he
"Ahi, but you see, Doctor Dilman
visits him every day, at three dlollars a
visit," said Mrs. Hay ward. "What does
Doctor Monroe say?"
"Doctors will disagree sometimes,"
acknowledged poor Mrs. Murray, who
had been blown about by the divers and
sundry winds of differing argument that
she scarcely know what to believe.
"It's a nlere matter of habit," said
Mrs. IBayward1,
"If I was -to count my pulse andi
number my heart- beats, I could frighten
-myself out of the world In about six
months"
"Xou re ydntblee aa -
" OliW I could cure him," said the
widow.
"But yQu never studied medioie,
deaV?"
"Not exaOtly the pharmaeopclas," said
Mrs. Hayward shrewdly; "but I am
the. seventh daughter you remember,
Ethel, and .1 know a t ing or two if I
can't write -M. D.* after my same.
"If you'll give the case into my
bands-"
"Well," said Mrs. Murray, "I will; so
go on and do your worst-or best."
So the pleasant autumnai weelts went
by, and Mr. Murray took evident satis
faction in growing feebler with every
day.
"How do you feel this evening, Mat.
thew?" said his sister, tiptoeing into the
darkened room, where Dr. Dilmann had
loaded the little table with pills and po
tions, and systematically shut out every
breath of fresh outer air as if it were
poison.
''Poorly," said Mr, Murray, "poorly!
These little catching obstructions in the
regions of the epigastrium are--"
"Perhaps you've eaten too much
dinne?" suggestec Mrs. Hayward.
"Too much dinner indeed!" ochoed
Mr. Murray.
"I that have only the appetite of a
sp a w? Where is Ethel?" he added
fretfully.
"It seems to me as if I never see any
thing of Ethel now."
"She has gone out for a little drive
with Doctor Monroe," said the widow.
"Eh?" said Mr. Murray, "She was
4itting with Doctor Dilmane last night,
wasn't she?"
"Well-.-yes--."
"And they were visiting the E 'PtialL
)belisk together the da
w qr. aid Mrs. Hay
"I tink she may as well go off with
Doctor Monroe altogether," said the
invalid petulantly.
"Oh, do you really think so Matthew?"
cried Mrs. Hayward.
"It will be such a relief to all parties
if we can be quite sure 1.hat that is your
real opinion'"
"Eli?" again uttered the invalid.
"Because," added Mrs. Hayward,
"you have warned us yourself that you
have but a fow weeks to livo; and Ethel
is still young and attractive, and Doctor
Monroe's pi aetice is improving. So he
proposed yeinrday and was accopted,
and your smpathy is all that-"
'Whati' cried Mr. Murray, jumping
up with an energy that sout the medi
cine phials and glasses tinkling in all
directions. "My wife-"
"Almost your widow, Matthew," in
torpolated Mrs. Hayward, tbeatrically.
"Planning already for a second mar
riage after I am dead.
"But I'll thwart their fine arrange
monts," lo cried.
"Send for Dilmann at once.
"Ask him what ho means by keeping
me on thio low diet.
"Does lie take me for an old woman?
or a sick girl?
"I'll let him know that I am not to be
trifled with.
"Doctor Monroe indeedl'
Apparently that night was the turning
point of Mr. Murray's disease, whatever
the latter might be.
lie improved with a rapidity which
was well-nigh marvellous-he flung hisi
phlysic to the dogs, and assumed the
daily cares of busmees once more.
But ho wvas resolutely frigid to hit
wife.
"Dear Matthew," said Ethel to him
one (day, "do, please, tell me how I have
oibaded you?"
"Woman," he said, "you have been
as falso as you are fair."
"Matthl"ev
"And engaged yourself to Doctor
Monroe."
"Noever!" cried Mrs. Murray.
"Ba~rahi said so," assorted the hus
band.
"She never could have told such an
outrageous falsehood," said Mrs. Mur
ray; burstidg into tears.
"'I never did," said the widow.
''I said thait Doctor Monroe had pro
posedi.
"But I migh t have neglected to add
that it was to mec ho proposed, not to
Ethel.
"Aud we arc to be married in the
spring."
Mir. Murray's p)ale despairing face
grew hi ight as a May morning-h le ilung
wide open his armse.
"My own true wife!" cried he.
And the next moment Ethilel was
laughing and cirying on his breast.
But it panssed for- a slight mnisunder
etaudmng.
Nobody ever told him that the widow
H-ayward had planned the littlic rusc
which had so efi'etually aroused hin
from his growing delusion.
Thc P'otousac Fl,~a.
Preparations for tihe reclamation af the
Potomac flats are going forward rapidly
in Washington. There has already been
ioustructedl about one mile of trestle work,
md the tracks are being laid Dreparatory
to putting on the locomotive now here
which will p)ropel the 40 mud care tiiow ini
3ouirso of being floated around by means of
anrge scows to the trestle work on Kidwell
Lottoia. Work will be commenced there
thiis week, shouli the weather continue fa
vorable. Tihe dipper which arrives here
[Fridlay will probably b,e the onie wh,ichi
will be first, at work. Th'le scows will re
ieive the mud. The gondola car, on
which is now being placed two laud-pile
dlrivers, is nearly ready 'o go into servise.
The work of driving the piles on the the
line of the GJeorgetown channel fromu near
the south cn:i of the Long brige causeway
up stream will be commenced this week.
This is on the line where the sea wall will
be constructed and which will form when
complete a substantial wall of stonio ma
sonry work.
There are now 160 men at work alto.
gether on the dierent.parts of this work,
and more will soon be a(ded. It is thought
that by the tt of March the whole force
will be thoroughly organized, equIippedl
aund at work. The 1p110 drivers, which will
be in active operation this week, comprise
onie water ma'chine and two land machines.
rho piles arc on the ground, and nothing
but unfavorable wcather will be likely to
Interrupit the work. Six more carloads of
railroad iron and t wo more track locomo
twves have arrived. The men are impatient
to begin, and all is activity and bustle
about the storehiouse and oflice at the foot
ot Tbirteen-and-a-half street, where the
machInery and materials for the enterprise
la unleaded and adjusted for active opera
tions.
PriANTATIz 1hlosopy: "BRemem
b,yugman "sa17 hnl o.
"da debet frion' yer's got on di.
earth is a bettor frien' ter himself den
ie is ter you." .'
Tus .garden suld be manured and
plowed in winter so as to give time for tbo
fresb manure tc be changed into plant food
and to kill the eggs of nsects.It is a pritne
necelty to a good crop of garden vege..
tablest
HAmi.n Life In Egypt.
The life of Harem ladies can baidly
be 1vorabI4 to good health, even under
tAhe most faorable circumstances. They
rarely take eiercise, proparly .so called;
in these days, indeed, many 1(re permitted
to drive out, but only in shut-up carriages;
but even that poor kind of exercise, is not
partaken of by a large number, who are
accustomed to the old-fashioned style of
living. biomo pass years without crossing
their own threshold. A lady- (a native
Uhristian, but one whose family kept up
the old habits of seclusion which the
Moslems seem to have introduced when
they es,mo into possession centuries ago)
actually lived within a mile and .a half
of tIl areat river Nile, and hid attained
a middle age without having ever seen it
nor, as she expressed no particular wish
to do so, Is it likely that she ever beheld
those waters on which her country depends
for its fertility, but probably (lied with
out quitting her voluntary prison -tor in
her case iA, was not compulsory.
Most of the wealthter establishments
have some sort of garden, certainly, and
ilot a few have very good gardens, oven
in the -heart ot the town; but the languid
habits of their life are such that the ladies
rarely walk; they preter to sit in the ver
andah and "smell the air," as they say,
and the gardener brings roses, jassmine
and other flowers tied in somewhat stiff
bouquets, and hands them to the slaves to
present to them. The delight of strolling
about to gather ilbwere for oneself, or
picking oranges from the bough, though
hanging. in rich profusion within. reacb,
hardly seems to occur to them; and some
have been diverted and amazed at hearing
that English ladies not only gather flowers
forf im ves, but even lake to cultivate
J.Mem and to pull up weeds, rake beds,
and cut off blossoms with their own
hands. Labor of any sort is looked upon
by these caged birds of women as a thing
for those compelled to it by poverty or
dire necessity of some kind, never as a
voluntary thing, still less as one which
sweetens the life of man, when not In
excess, more thau all the luxuries .o
Idleness and wenith. Slavery has, no
doubt, much to do with thia contempt for
work, but the languor of anu inactive
and purposeless existence perhaps does
m1oTe.
They wander listlessly trom room to
room or sit for hours smoking, till the
head must become more or less stupefled
by the fumies of the tobacco-.though ii
certainly Is a lighter kind than that in
use in Europe-and never seem to think
of roaming about in the garden, even in
the most delightful weather. "What d
you (o all day long?" an English lady
once asked a friend in a harem- a per
son of more than average intelligence,
be it said-who often complaIned of head.
ache, and was stouter than natural at her
age, for she was then at most only two or
three and thirty. "Why," she answered,
6I go and sit on that disvan yonder, and
then conime ire and sit upon this one
awhile," shrugging her shoulders as she
spoke.
7. AgUos.
Outside one of the gates of Rome
the resort on Sunday and holiday-keep.
ing Romaus, and, precisely, Porta Pia.
through which Victor Emmanuel i 1I
his army enteed in 1870-there stavds,
halfway between two wayside eating and
drinking houses, a little church, dedi.
cated to Agnes, a youing virgin martyr,
who suffered death rather than be mar-.
ried toe the son . of the Governor of
Rome, who was dying of love for her.
S.he was onily thirteen years of age; but
girls of that age are wvomen in Italy. Sc
she answveredL his protestations of loye
by. saying: "I am affianced to im
whom angels serve, and whom the sun
and moon adore." She was8 then threat
ened-says her biographor-with being
publicly dishonored in an infamous
place, and then to bekilled in amostocrnel
way. "My Divine Spouse," she answared
-"the God of purity, whom I serve
will deliver me from your impious de
signsal" She was then* thrown on a
burning pile! but, langhing and singing
praises of God, she defied the flames,
which could not be made to burn her.
She was then made to walk naked
through the streets of Rome, and was
alone exposed in a place of bad repute
--the Agoual Circus. There her hali
grew miraculously long and covered her
like a cloak, and the Governor's son
was struck with blindness. At last she
was behieade.d. The place of bad repute
where she was exposed was afterwards
transformed into a chapel, and over it
was built one of the most beautiful
churches in Rome. It is not there,
however, that she was burled. The
Christians of that day took her body'
and buried it in a catacomb outside of
Rome. The catacomb bears her name.
and over her tomb .was built a splendid
ehnrch (luring Coiistantine's reign, and
this church wvas restored by Paul III.
in the sixteenth century, and still later
by Pius IX. It is in this little church
that on every anniversary of her death
are brought on cushions two little lambs
decorated with flowers and ribbons.
They are blessed, and they are takenm to
the Pope, who sends them to the Con
vent of St. Cecilia, where they are shuorni
of their wool, whlich us aifterwardls woven
into the palliums worn by the Pope and
Cardina and some of the Archbishops.
The Church of St. Agnes, outside the
walls, is known by the image of the
lamb, which is outside the <door. All
visitors to Rome make a point of going
to see it. __________
Funy Tingy.
Rome very funny things happened at
the coronation of the King of the Sand
wilch Islands. One of the highest offi
ce of the army was sent around with
the invitations. He stopped on the
docks to see some of the idlers who
were attracted by curiosity to the pack
age in his hands. One of them offered
him twenty-five cnts for an invitationi,
anid in a short time he had disposed of
the whole package, anid pocketed a
nice little sum, but some of the visitors
who were present at the coronation
astonished the authorities. The Ha
waiian Gazette pictures the embarrass
ment likely to arise when the titles of
nobility are conferred. "It will at first
sound odd to say, 'three pounds of sau
sages, your grace!' or 3)other says will
your lordship match this pink ribbon?
or 'two and a half'-pounds of butter,
fresh, Sir Charles, but we will soon get
acoustomed to it. Besides we shall
only be beginning with our aristocracy
whore many of the older ones end. A
washerwoman in St. Petersburg.was a
countesse. Many a solon of English
nobility has splt rails, minded sheep,
or served drinks behind.a bar in Amer
lea and Australia. One here used to
drive an express. The ootirfly nobility
of France had, after' the explosion of
1789, to botake themselves to foreign
lands sad tah dancing."
%:'~ J5,
W
.ix
theplare.
d txet* ducto d 4 d
York 30n; was just thinking when I
wes St ~e etre the other nlobt that
these that write plays loos the
best oh"O* tielr lives by not.pasig
a whole .h* istreet oar sont time.
Maybe .ome of them do, for inen travel,
up and do? ith *n6 for hors isome.
times, n.1,d thon 0aking potes in a
book, bVit u'otppebring to tAke notice
of anybod, 9n4 then 0omti06 they
Jungl) out flnhet'iuto),anotir car, with
out sehg to know where they are
going. Tfi is ione kind of orank, as we
call theM.. Thes are not tr'oulesome
orankb, -however, for they never ask any
questi4,aZ,'pnd do4't keep a.fglow en
gaged 'tal4ig the was' son i eothers do
until the car is several blocks past the
place where some old lady crank wanted
to get out, and probably insists on being
taken back to.the right place."
" What is the most troublesome kind
of crant you meet vith?"
"Well, the newspaper orank is a
pretty bad 'one in,this way, that is he is
liable to get you into trouble. I know
how it is myself. I'll tell you how it
was. I didn'l know he was a reporter,
and I tslked qjtind of confidentially to
him, as I. am 4oing to ~you now, way
up to HarlQm nearly. We laughed and
chatted, And I didn't think anythmg
about it till the next morning, when
the starter came to' me *ith the paper
In his hani and says: 'Look'at herol
What's td..you have been doing?'
And there was every word down 'I had
said, with the number of my car and
the time of, the trip and everything.
The worst of it was I had made some
remarks about the starter and gave
something away that I snould not.
There was no harm in it, but it looked
bad in print and different from what I
had said, though he had got my words,
for these reporters can mind every -
thing."
"Well, what was the result?"
"The starter had me bounced, of
course."
A few mornings ago the reporter
jumpl on a .Yourth avenue car at
Fifty-fourth street. There sat opposite
him a lady about 40, well preserved
and good looking, though not attraelive.
She was dressed expensively, though
not gaudily, and shone with a glittering
display of diamonds. When the car
reached Twenty-third street, and cer
tain parties essayed to board it, the
conductor told them that the car went
no further than Astor place. At this
announcement, the well-dressed lady,
who had hitherto appeared as calm as
a mummy, except that she was full
blooded, burst into a perfect storm of
rage at the conductor.
"You should have told me when I
got on," she said, her eyes flashing liko
her diamonds, though emiting a differ
out kind of light.
"I did tell you, madam, sai:1the con -
ductor. half terrified, "that this car
stopped at Astor place."
"I didn't understand you that way,"
she respo'nded, as if the conductor was
under an obligation to read her areams
and the interpretation thereof. She
broke out into a tirade of abuse, which
was continued almost without cessation
until the oar reached Astor Place, and
her plump form was half concealed in
Coleman's slush when she got out to
wait on the next ear. She lanehed a
parting threat to report the conductor
to Mr. Vanderbilt. The reporter then
inquired of the conductor why the lady
was so choleric.
Ice Mou,es.
During the ice months the route usu
ally taken by Europe'an steamners Is asi
far southward as the forty-third parallel
of latitude, longitude fifty degrees.
Thus route, however, is full of danger
from floating icebergs. Detentions
are also frequent from March to August.
In striking countrast to this trans-atlantic
route is that tested by Captain 8! ack
fo'l. This route crosses the fi*tieth
meLridian to the southwyardl of latitud,e
forty-one degrees. in J875, (luring
which great quantities of ice were en
countered, tis commander began to
experiunut on running south to clear
the fog, and iin 1682, after making ten
passagts east and west on the latter
route, from March to August, inclnsive,
lie enjeountered only one hour and thirty
one muncaxe of fog between Cape Hen
lopeni and Cape Clear on the eastern,
p)anIages, anid on the westernj passages
sixteen hours ano nineteen minutes in
all, and, he ados, "not a p'article of ice
has becn seen durmng the entire season."
By the extreme southern route, as com
paJred with the ()ape Rance rouini, the
loss of uistanace each passage is one
hundred and sixty-three miles; but this
distance can be readily made up In the
time that the vessel would be hindered
by the fog on the northern route, and
the accompanying perils are avoided.~
Captamn Shackford says that if the pub
lication of ha paper should be the
means of causing one shipmaster to try
thle southern route, or deter one steamer
from ramming into an ice-fld on the
eastern edge of the Great Bank in spring
of the year, he, will be amply repaid for
any time and trouble it may have cost
him. As the annual descent of the
Aretie ice over the Newfoundland Banks,
so dreaded by seamen, may be expected
to begin at any day, it would be well
for -navigators to profit by Captain
Shaokford's experience.
UIa Judges.
While our Judges are -doomed to re
tirement at the age of seventy, Judges
in England and Ireland have presided
In the several ,Courts long after' that
age. At present there are five In Eng
land over . eVenty-ViceOhan~cellor
Bacon, eighty-four; Mr. Justice Mfan
Isty, seventy-four; Mr. Justice, P'hill
more, seventy-three; Mr. JustieGrov9,
seventy-one; and Lord -O06ancellor
Selberne; a little over. seventy. ,The
late Lord Chancellors St, Leonards
and Campbell presided over the Courts
of Chancery in admirable mental vigor
at the ages respectively of eighty and
sixty-nine, and the Irish Lord Uhan
cellor Plunkett at Seventy-four, andi
Lord Ohief Justice Lefroy at ninety-one,
The two youngest Judges. in -Engad
now are4Judges Oave and Blogen, toty
eight and Soryv-seavan respnative
It'
/**,
6 d niodos
*po aY OWu~ ~
si $e u i-ore*Wtatde
bte f b the R ite inhoine of
e of th oo Although one of
the "ost gi4 . feWts of 61vil e.i
eeing a Verilous unce kings f
persons residing within h Nidiance
of the great works have slightest
idea.of the daliger to which are expo'e
the human bees who are laboring, year
after year, in the construction of a
honey-comb out .of the solid reck form -
ing the bed of the river, which when
completed, will be filled, not with honey,
but with the water now serenely flow
ing over its roof. A Journal reporter
-yesterday made an exploration of the
subteraneau works opposite Ninety
second street. The present operations
were immediately after the termination
of those at- Hallet's Point, consequently
having been in progress about five years.
At high-tide there was visible about 100
square feet of Flood Rock, and consid
erably more at low water. By the
removal of this great barrier to naviga
tion at this point, it is expected to
secure 1,200 feet wider channel, with
an average depth of twenty-six feet,
permitting the entrance by way of the
Sound of -the very largest ships. The
distance from the surface of the rock to
the flook of the excavated chambers is
about seventy-five feet, the descent
being made by means of a windi4g
staircase, with landings at intervals of
about twenty steps. Once at the bottom,
a general survey of the surroundings
revealed a labyrinth of chambers or
long tunnels, like avenues, hewn out of
solid rok. Looking down the length
of these, the vision was lost in impene
trable darkness in the distance. Glim.
mering lights fitted hither and thither
having the appearance ot twinkling
stars. Occasionally ounas of voices or
of the clashing of steel were heard.
The engineer led the way down one
avenue some hundreds of feet, adross
another westward, then southward and
again crossing eastward until they were
upwards of three hundred feet from the
main shaft or about two hundred feet
from the projecting surface of Flood
Rock under the river properp bearing
toward the New York side and near the
Nigger Head Reef.
Some portions of the walk were com
paratively smooth and dry, while others
were extremely rugged and not only
wet, but ankle and knee-deep in water.
The torch illy served to show all these,
being mainy intended to guide the
bearer through the different windings
and headings, which are all lettered and
numbered at their entrance, viz., "N.
16-N. 27-8. 9-W. 15," etc. The
reporter, consequently, after crawling
through a low excavation, straightenea
himself only to step a foot or two into a
stream or puddle, coming out of which
he struck his head against sonie pro
jecting rock or low roof. Then again,
at certain points the water from the
river percolated through the roof, Ire
quently extingiushing the torch. which
would be relighted froin that of a miner,
one or two of whom were met at almosL
every turn.
"Clear the track north wardl" .cameo
through the darkness in sepulchral
tones, and a moment afterward darted
by a nule with a headlight, drawmng a
loaded car on which sat the drnver.
The road being clear, the journey was
resumed. Suddenry a rush of water is
heard. A fissure in the rock has given
way, and men hurry to the scene with
great quantities of oakum, pieces of pine
and tools, and in less than five minutes
the flow of water is cheoned. Thun.
they have to contend with unforeseen
forces almost continually.
"If by accident," said the engineer,
"an opening would occur of any mag
nitude which we could not stop, the
result would be terrible, for the great
pressure of water would quickly enlarge
the orifice and the escape of the meni
wvould be impossible.''
in the newv chambers men are bus)
drilling holes which are charged with
three ouces of dynamite. The con
cussion caused by the explosion of these
cannot be heard at the extreme portions
of the mine, but there is a peleeptible~
vibration of tho works. There arc at
present employed in the mine and on
the surface 180. men. These are divided
into three squads, each working eight
hours, thus consuming the whole 24
hours. 'The day squad works from
8 A. M. Until 4 ir. ii., and the two night
squads from 4 r. ii until midnight atnd
midnight to 8 A. ii. respectively. The
night squads do aih Lhe minor drilliugs
and all the blasting, while the day
squads are engaged in removing the
debris of the previous night, and drill
I lg the apertures for the great and
final blast. The men arc provided with
rubber suits in addition to Iheir own
a torch attached, which is the only
light by which they perform their work
in the pitchiy darkness. A narrow
gange railway extends through each
avesaue, up~on which are run tram-cars
for the conveyance o,f the rock anid
sand to the main shaft whence it is
hisnted by mtacineury and dlumped into
a lighter alongsile the rockr, and is in,
tutn towed to a r:pot several hundred
yat ds down the rivbr, whenre there is a
hole 125 feet deep into which the debris
is cast. Near the shaft is a large pats
sage or room into which hot air is
intro'duced for the purpose of drying
the rniners' clothes. A hundred stilts
hung there siazing on the pipes. The
temperature in the ine averages 70
degrees, and is very pure, the air ma
chines and compressors for working the
compressed air drills being located on,
the surface, as are also the boiler and
engine rooms used in hotating. fl
this means the system c.f ventilation ?
perfect. The holes now being drilled
for the final blast are 10 feet deep and
and three inches in diameter, and as
fast as drilled they are plugged witht
pieces of wood until the work is comn
pletedi, when they will be charged with
dynamite. These holes are generally
bored in the upper portion of the pillare,
several in each and some in the roof
rock. The system of explosion will be
similar to that adopted at Hallett a
Point. All the holes being charged,
wires will be placed in each charge, the
whole number being merged into one,
which will be charged with electricity,
from a powerful battery placed on the
main shore, after all the buildings and
machimery have been removed from the
mine and .the surface of the rock.
Lieutenant Derby said that at' the pres
eut rate of work, ithe appropriation
aked for is forth coming, everything
would be ready for the great blast iih
October or November next; but ifit
bsoon)es neces.ary to wait for the action
of the next Oongres the force of men
rnust. necessarily 2bs reduced and the
comrpletion of ~prations will be delayed
at lat 18 months.
When- BWp. oot
hamlet M opaa at,
small detach 4.o troops.
were issued .tat t soldiet sou be
quartered upon the inhabitanti, w e
poor huts promised but scant comfort
and rorse fare. Mi 7ohn, t6gether
with the ofters not on inmediate duty,,
turneA eagerly toward I the only, inn
which the place, could boast of. .Wea,
ried with a long march, it was with
some Impatience he found their further
progress impeded -by a'large crowd col
leoted in the centre of the streez; and It
was wi.th n gentle apents he bade
them make way. -
A young gypsy had bee' dancing to
the sound of the: tambourine, and
paused suddenly at the interruption.
Such a scene was .no novelty to the
soldiere, but one and all forgot their
..weariness and reined In their horses.
Sixteen suminer sunn could soarce
have tinged with a .deeper brown the
natural olive of her cheek, in which
from modesty or excitement, the rich
blood of the south was now mantlkng.
Sir John looked his adniiration of the
Pretty figure before him, then, turning
to the man who accompanied her, he
said: "Bring your tambourine and the
girl to the Inn; you shall be well re
warded." He spurredup his horse and
was soon dismounting in front of the
inn, where he hoped to secure rest and
food.
The dancing in the street continued
some time after he had disappeared,
and it was not until one by one the
lookers-on had left that Zara and her
companions sought the inn. Ushered
into the pret ence of the offlicers Zara
danced with as much ease and grace as
if she had not plied her vocation since
early morn.
"Can you do aught else as well as
dancinik, Zara?" asked Sir John. "Can
you, like the prophets of ol, foretell
coming events?"
"That I can, bonor," she replied
quickly. "No Zingaree woman can
surpass Zara in rEadwg the future.
Your hand, Senor."
She took the hand he offered and
examined the lines that crossed each
other.
"What a frown!" exclaimed Sir
John. "GYou read no good therein.
Am L, then, to die soon?" Will it be
with or without honor? Come; good or
bad, what is my fate?"
"Truth is not always palatable, and
may sound harshly in year ears, senor,"
replied Zara.
"Bahl Think you I place my trust
in your idle prophecies? A broad piece
of gold shall cross your palm and may
brighten my enanco, perchance."
"Gold cannot buy fate,* she replied,
quietly. "My own name is written
here.
"A happy augury, fair Zara. If you
do but rend the riddle so pleasantly, I
must perforce bow in submission to
your power. Are you to be my bride?"
he added laughingly.
The girl cast a quick scornful look
into the handsome face of the young
man and said firmly:
"Didst hear that the eagle mated the
daw, the lion with the fox, or one of
your proud lords with a Zmngaree? No:
no; though side by side run the streams
ol our lives, they can never mingle."
"You have given me a problem to
solve instead of unraveling-the tangled
threads of my future. I thought love
and marriage were always the burden
of a gypsy'a story. [a there no love
for me?"
"There is," she replied, with all the
fearless boldness of her race.- "Love
for ene to whom you may not stoop,
and to whom your love will prove a
curse,"
"She stands before me," said Sir
John, laughingly. "She speaks lightly
of her own dihonor," he added in Eug
lhsh to those about them--for till then
he had spokeni in hier own tongue.
"Darost thou name dinhonor and my
name in the same breath?' the girl
cried, passionately. "Thy life were
not worth little at suoh momenti But,"
she added, changing from the angry
revengelul tones to the free careless
manner she h'ad previously used, "the
decrees of fate are unalterable. A base
requital is foreign to thy nature, and
thou wilt owe me much. Great in
name and fame, thou shalt vainly seek
to drown the memory of Zara, the poor
Gypsy girl."
"Do we then pat forever, Zara?"
"No. Twice zt is written shall my
prescuce save you; but woe, woe to
both, when face to lane we stand for the
third lime. Farewell"
Ere Sir Johan could detain her she
was gone, and in the continued whirl of
war she was forgotten; yet, mn calmcr
moments she would haunt his memory
like the recollection of a beautiful
dream, anid he found that part of her
prophecy was true-he could not forget.
Years had passed. The first hour
ushering in a new day had just dawned
on June 16, 1809, when Sir John
Moore, then General of the Army ii
Spain, stole quietly out of his tent
and strode impatiently toward the city
gates, Then challenge of the sentir.els
was answered until the last outpost was
passed, and he found himself on the
higk road.
"This strange unrest, these dark
forebodinga, were better fitted for some
sick woman or love-lon youth than one
of my age and position," he uttered,
"Yet Zara, who has foretold that no
harm shall reach me until once more
we stand face to face, has not appeared,
Verily hath her prophecy been fulfilledI.
Her Iriage haunts me to-day a's It did
in the days whzen, young and beautiful,
she vamished from may sight! Hath she
then no better claim to my remem
branice? Do I not remember the day
whzen, panting with the, fever of griev,.
eus wounds under the Egyptian sky, I
Colt a cool, soft hand upon my brow
and I knew a woman's tender care and
ministration? 'then, again, in the
'mountain, pass, when lost, hopeless,
and ready to sink with cold and weari
ness,, whose unlooked for presence
saved, and once safe, fled ere I could
frame a word of thanks! In vain, Zar
hast thou warned me that our third
foebtingr ust be fatal. I laugh thy
fobo gns to scorn and laugh and long
for thy presence! istrauge destiny that
binds two lives bysuch strange ties!
loving and beloved, yet. forever aliens,
the playthings of Idle prohec. This
may not endure. 1 wil .li her And
she aliall leave the tribe, salt! Who
gosthere?" ho 'exolefied, las a form
giided stealthily through th e darkness.
"Zaral" he cried as, springing for.
wEird, he grasped hi, mantle she drew
ooe about her; "Zarail" heo oontinued~
you cani no Ionger escap me. Speak!'
"Nay, sir John; that-may not be,
We cannot change anp ctean 8a4
NI 4 . ... ..
The ozs-$n
#sbn osetting. Oriia
140 rwll be bloody and glis '
6r Wlnot preva0i.
.Iease ZorasIMWll not -believe th
'rsaioul*d"!oh be
weldome - zut to you, Zara, it cannot
bring the doom you would have me
twik Awaits usboth.
"My end i no less .ertain.- A sought
your camf to-night to betray a Oeoret.
mover4en ol the enemy to which my
tribe Is pledged, - I dared believe I
oduld 6heat, the rate bytelling it to
others, so that we might not meet.
aath It aviiled A Zingaree's vengeance
is sure and swift-a-_
"And has already overtaken- thee,
thou dark traitress" spoke a ,voice u
the darkness, and before Sir John could
draw a weapon, Zara had fallen t6,,the
grund, and her murderer had sped'into
the thick woods.
"It was my brother who strpok the
blow," said Zura, faintly, ''Part of the
prophecy is fulfilled; the rest will soon
follow. Bury me in the rampartal" A
sigh, a faint pressure of the hand,- and
Z,ira was no more.
When, after the battle that proved so
disastrous to the English, they lowered
the body of their loved commander
into his bloody grave, few noticed that
a tresh mound of earth had been tram
pied by their'feet, and fewer yet that
the Gypsy Zara lay side by side with
him she had loved, and in whose ser
vice she had perished
. In Oloud Land.
Mount Hood stands about sixty mile
from the great Pacific, as the crow fles,
and about two hundred miles up the Oo
lumbia River, as it is navigated. Blount
Hood stands utterly alone. And yet he is
only a brother, a hrger and smaller broth
er, of a well-raised fatmily of seven snow
peaks. At any season of the year, you
can stand on almost any little bminence
within two hundred miles of Mount llood
and count seven snow-cones, clad in eter
nal winter, piercing the clouds. There is
no scene so sublime as this in all the world.
The mountains of Eurpe are only hills in
comparison. Although -some of them are
quite as high as those of Oregon and Wash
ington Territory, yet they lie far inland,ant
are so set on the top of oth)r hills that they
lose much of their majesty. Those of
Oregon start up sudden and solitary, and
almost out-of the sea, ab it were. So tht.
while they are resIly not much higher then
the mountain peaks of the Alps, they seem
to. be about twice as high. And being all in
the form of pyramids er cones. they are
much more imposing and beautiful then
those of either Asia or Europe. '3ut that
which adds iast of all to the beauty anti
sublimity of the mountain scenery of lount
Hood and his environs is the marvelous
cloud effects that encompass m.
In the first place, you must understand
that all this religion here is one dense black
mass of matchless and magnillcent forests.
From the water's edge up to the snow-hue
clamber and cling the dark green tir, pine,
cedar, tamarack, yew, anti jiun,per. Sornej
of the pines are heavy *vith great cones as
long as your arms ; solne of the yew trees
are scarlet with berries; ani now fand then
you see a burly juniper hending tunder a
load ot blue and bitter fruit, and neairly
all of these trees are mat,tled in garment s
of moss. This moss trails and swirgi
lazily in the wind, and sometimes dioops
to the length of a hudred feet. In these
great dark forests is a dense undergrothi of
vine-maple, hazel, mountain ash, marsh
ash, willow, and brier bushes. Tangled
in with alt this is the rank and ever-pres
eat and imperishable fern. Up avd through
and over all this darkness of foreats, drift,
and drag and laziiy creep the most weir<d
They move in great caravans. They seem
lhterally to be alive. They rise with the
morning sun, likCe the countless mIllions
of snow-white geese, swains, and othecr
water-fowl that fre<quent the rivers of Ore
gon, and slowly ascend the mountain si<les,
dragging themselves through an,d over theo
tops of trees, heading straight for thei~ see,
or hovering about the mountamu peaks, like
mighty white-winged birds, weary or flight
aed wanting to rest. i'hoy are white as
snow, these clouds of Oregon. fleecy, andI
rarely, if ever, still; constantly movwing mn
contrast with the black forests, these
clouds are atrangely sympathetic to one.
who worships nature. Of course in the
rair,y season, which is nearly half the year
hero, these cloud effects are absent.' At
such times the whole land Is one1 vast
rain-cloud, (lark and dreary anti full of
thunder..
To see a show-peak in all its suibbmity
you must see It alW,ve the clouds. It lai
not necessary- that you ehould climb the
peak to do this, but nieend some neighbor
ing hill and have the wite clouda creep up
or down the valley. .through andi over the
black forest, between you and the snowy
sumrmit that pricits the blue home of stars,
Whiat coloil M ~ovement I Miraculous hifel
A Great Part,ner.
Dr. Gleau's rainchi in Othirornia coim
prises about 60,000 ac of hand, and .
the number of acres in wheat each year
ranges between 40,000 and 50,000.
Reckoning an average of from 20 to 25
bushels to the acre, the aggregate crop
each year amouints to something* more
than 1,000,000 bushels. This enormous
amount of grain requires vast appli
ances for planting and bringing it fo
market; and the capital invested in
machinery alone sums up a considerable
fortune. During the haryest time there
are employed on the entire ranch some
500 men. Dr. Glenn was general-in
chief of hisa force, aud his ranch is divi.
ded, for ponvenienoe of operation, Into
nine smaller ranchies--ea'h with ai
dwelling-housa, barns, blacksmith shop
and other necessary buildings. In
charge of these are seven foremen, un
der whom are sixteen blacksmiths,
fottrteen carpenters, six engineers sid
machinists, five commissaries and nh
merous, cooks and servants, The oom
mon workmen are divided into gangs,,
and detailed where they are neetted.
There are needed 180 giing plowvs, 00)
herders, to which belong 180 wagons;
c leaners, 100 harrows, 18 seeders, 86
threshers, 8 engInes. Besides, there
are many smaller instruments and veh-.
isles, which cannot be o:assifled. c.
operating wVithi their human brethren
in t.1e great labor arc 1,000 work-hiors
and iinites, 'with a kin'shtip of broodI
mares and younger.'stock which havej
not yet achi eved the dignity of labor
There are 32 dwllihou,ses.. 27 ba'ns'
14 bhaokei.idlt shoyis, and other struct.
ures anfflbiet,t swell the aggregate
'to 100,. ih4 machinery could not be1
replIeoqd to:P 125,000; the work-horses
pnd4sareworth 6110,000; and the
br marca and young stock $7 000k
The rabon is~ hbout twnt miles aboye
theidn o Clus,4