The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, April 03, 1883, Image 4

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|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