Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

tl. TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. S. C. A TGUST 30, 1883. 4 ESTABLISHED1848 THE VERDICT THE PEOPLE. BUY THE BEST ! Ma. J. 0. BoA--Dear Sir: I bought the first Davis Machine sold by you over live years aj o for mny wife who has given it a log and fair tr al. I am welt pleased with it. It never gives any rouble, and Is as good as when first bought. Winusboro, S. C., Aprii 1883. Mr. BOAG: You wish to know what I have to say in regard to the Davis Machine bought of you three jears ago. I feel I can't say too much in Its favor. made about 80,00 within five months, at times running It so fast that the needle would get per fecti hot from friction. I feel confideni I could not havo done the same work with as much ease and so well with any other machine. No time lost in adjusting attachments. The lightest running machine I have ever treadled. BrotherJames and Williams' families are as much pleased with their Davis Machines bought or you. I want no better machine. As I sali before, I don't think too much can he said for the Davis Machine. Rtecfully, E.EN STEVENSON, Fairfld County, April, 1883. Mlt. BOAU : My nlchine gives me perfect satis faction. 1 tind no fault with it. The attachments are so simple. I wish for u better Ihun the Davis Vertical Fee.d. lespectfully. Mius. IR. 1ii.INo. Fairfield county, Apri', 133. MR. BoAG: I bought a luavis Vertical Feedt ewing Machine from you four years ago. I am olighted with it. It never has given me any rouble, and has never been the least out of order. It is as good as when I first bought it. I can cheerfully recommend it. Respectfully, Mt+. M. J. KItKI.AND. Mont ieello, A pril 30, 1883. This Is to certify that I have been using a Davis Vertical Feed Seowing Machine for over tw iyears, purchased of Mr. J. 0. Boag. I haven't found i t passessed of any fault-all the attachments are so siml e. It never refuses to work, and is certainly the lightest running in the market. I consider it a first class imaohin. Very respectfull 1MINNIa .i . WIllI.INOn[AJf. Oaklanl, Fairfield county, S. U. M BOAO : t am weit pleaset in every particut with the Davis Machine bought of you. I think a first-ciass machine in every respect. You knew you sold several machines of the same stake to dilerent members of our families, all of whom, as far as I know, are well pleased with them. Itesiectfully, dsMit. M. A. Monr.Y. Fairfield coi 1, 1883. 'i'ls ilto corLily n u,avoi na 1 in constant use the D.tvis Machine bought of you about, three years ago. As we take in work, and have made the price of it several tines over, we don't want any better machine. iL is always ready to do any kind of work we nave to in, No lickeringor skipping stitches. We can only say we are well pleased and wish no better machine, l' ATILltINs 1VWYI.K ANtiS STSSN. April 25, 184,' I have no fault to find with my mach ne, and don't want any better. I have misde the price of it several times by taking in sewing. It Is always ready to do its work. I think it a first-class ma chIne. I feel I can't say too much for the D.vis Vertical Feed Machine. Mens. THoMAs SMITH. Fairfield county, April, 1883. Mit. J. 0. BOAG-Dear Si': It gives ie much pleasure to testify to the merits of the Dav is Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I ,ot of you about live years ago. has bce.a almost l.a con stant use ever since that time. I cannot see that it is worn any, and has not cost me one cent for repairs since we have had it. Ai well pleased and don't wish for any better. Yours truly, lioeT. Ua tw Voup, (iruanite Quarry, near Wininsboro S. C. We hive used the D)avas Vertical Feed Sewving Machine for the last lIve years. WVe woulid not have any othier make at any price. T1lte machmte lias given us unbounded satisfactIon. Very respectfully, M a. W. K. 'iT UnN H A ND D)A UauiTaEs Fairiel.l county, S. C., Jan. 21. 1883. hiaving bought a Davis Vericeal Peed Sewing Macline from Mr. J. 0. lioag seime three years ago, and it hiavinag given me perfect satisfaction in every respect iw a taimuy mnachine. both for hea zy fn ight sowing, anid never nceie the leastr pair in any way, I can checrful'y recommiiend it to any oiio as a irst-~class miachine in every particu lar, and think it, secondl to none. It is oine 01 the sinplest machines made; my children use I, with all ease. Trhe attachments are moio easily ad justedl andl it doei a greater ratnge of work .y means of its VertIcal t"eeid tihan any othier msa chiiio I have ever seen or used. Mae. Tu'ioMAs OwiNGs. Winnsboro, Fairfld cotnt,y, 8. C. Wec have hind one of the D)avis Machines about four years andi have always found It ready to do all kinds of work we have had~ occasn to dto. Can't see that the machine is worn aiiy, and works as well as wvt"en newv. Mits. W. J. CiiAwFOaiD Jackson's Creek, Fairfield contry, S.'U. My wife Is highly pleased with thie Davis Ma chIne bought of you. She would not take double what she gave for it. The miachiine has not been out of order since she had it, stud sihe can do auny kind of work on it. Very ltespectfuilly, JA5. F. FR. Montieello, Fairfield county, h. U. Th'le Davls Sowing Machine Is simply a fr'ena 141rS Mae. J. A. GOOiwYNs. Itidgeway, N. (C., Janl. 10, 1683. ,1,O BAO,Es , gen-Der Sr:My wife ly fr te pst fur ear, ai it ha neermeeded any epars aal orksjus as ellas wenirst practieal work Ond do It easier and better thatn any achno he aseer sed Weohieerfull,y Yor JAR. Q. DiAvig. Winnsboro, 8. C., Jan. 8, 18813. Mit. IIOAO : I have alw a founid myDavis Ma chine ready do all kinds ofto work I have hiadi oc. Gasi)n to d o. I cannot see that tile macline is worin a particle andi it works as wedl as when new, ltespoentfuilly, Mite. it, U. (loomNO. Winnsboro, i9. C., A pr il, 18811, Mil. BIOAC My wife hias b oin eOlnstahtly hieing the Davis Maclin10 Iiminght i yoiu ablout livet years age. I have snever regrelied~ hnyi i.as It is always read for aii ndli of fsnml iliig Oitheor iheave or lil t It iO nevgr ant, of fi or .ifil.. TIIEWANDEiEt. Upon a mountain's height, far froin the sea, I found a shell, And to miy curious ear this lonely thing Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell. How came this shell upon the iountail height? Ah, who can say Whether there dropped by some t>o care. less hand Whether there cast who oceans swept thc land Ere the Eternal hand ordained the Day? Strange, was it not? far froin its native sea, One song it sang Sang of the mighty mysteries of the tide Bang of the awful, vast, profound, and wide Softly with echoes of the ocoan rang. And, as the shell upon the mountainN height Sings of the sea, So do I ever, leagues and leagues away So do 1 ever, wandering where 1 may, Sing, 0 iy home-U my home, of thee. MIS BIOWN'S FOITUNE. To begin with, I am a long young person, with big bones and plenty of thein-and I don't care a button if my hair is red l I have good reason to know that I am not considered beauti ful; that my nose, for instance-but there's really no need for such distress ing details. My father, Peter Brown--the best farmer living in all Fairfax, be the dead one whom he may-is the unfortunate possessor of 13 children, every single onle of them girls-and the married ones, too, for that matter! Of course, girls are all very well as far as they go, but one gets too much of a good thing sometimes, and when poor pa takes a notion to upbraid fate because all his boys turned out girls,' I must say I rebel against the decree that condemns me to slavish frocks and frizzes. Most good folks sing out that they want to carry harps and be angels, but I--if only I were Peter Brown, junior, and had a farm like pal I don't blame Inma, of course, but I really do think the even dozen ought to have contented her-and, what's more, I say so, when pa and 1 get beyond the subduing in fluence of her eye-for there's nothing trifling about ma's eyel When pa and ma's love was young, and their future a rose-colored rose therel I've heard pa say it a dozen times, but when a girl happens to be shackled with a memory like a boy's pocket upside down, and the middle nowhere, and get that memory from her ma, I suppose there's to be allowances -anyhow, the first girls got the bene fit of it all in the way of mugs and corals.. and - ts' as fine is ficdles nen there~ -ahe such a dlisastrous lull im pa's enthusiasm that ma says, when he panted up from the fields one hot noon and found our dear old twins waiting, instead of his dinner, it set him so frantic that .he threatened to bunch the whole family together like a string of fish and (1o a dark and despe rate deed. But ma just kept on having her own way-which means girls until by the time she wound up the home circle with nc-at your service she had so worn her intellect down at the heels thinking up double-barrelled names for the other dozen, that she handed my christening over to pa, and pa everlastingly disgraced himself, in my estimation, by heartlessly calling mne Sis-absolutely nothing but Sisl If I had been a boy this indignity, at least-but there are some wrongs so great that the only thing one can con veniently do is to forgive them! But, though pa~ has been cheated of his bish ops and senators and things (poor dear, lie never dreamsw that sonis of his might have turned out farmers like himself, only not half so good) the girls have certanidy made upl his loss in husbands, Indeed, pa8 seems to have miore sonis-iin la.w than hie quite knows what to dc with--and ne to grandsons! "If one could only feed them like chickens!" sighs poor ma, plainitively. "If 0one cold only kill thenm like chickens, you iineanii rtred i dictively. lile Irtr(iVii A fler halilebusiness talk pa and I had behind the barni I've settled ini my mmnd that the Browns have got te economiize-and( I mean to start, with the grandchlild ren by waLy of a noble biegiinnin g. "Nowv, look here, ma," I say to thec dear old soul who is alr'eady staring at me w ithi big, anxious eyes, like a hein with her feathers rullied, "this thing ha:; gone on long elnough, and I1 just mean to hitch 01(1 Calico to the cart and dump every scrap) of grandchild al his own lawful door--I do! It's down. right imean in the girls to impose on us in this everlasting way-as if thtert wasn't work enough of our own-" ''There, there, sir"' interrupts ma p)athleticaliy, "'they only niean to please "And a nice way they take to do itl Pit's an ol main now, and1 after piinch ing and slaving all his life'for us army of girls, what right have they to keep~ huin pimchintg and slaving to the last, Oh, you needn't look at mie like that1 ma, dear; children like good mnners1 ought to be foimd at home-hi, you Tom, Dick, IIarry, etc., etc.," and wheni at last1I have packedt them in the cart, aiid we go laughing, scratching. aind squalling dlowni the road, I feel like the ipied iper of iIamlen, only there's no lull with wide, greoody jawi waiting at the end of the trip-more4 That sounds as if Sis Browvn wer< not fond of chiildreii; but I really am, wheun they come like silk frocks aml other occasional lutx uries-consdere<l as every-day affairs, however, if I hmn to be allowed a preferenice between thi( two-why, give me the locusts of Egypl and accept my grateful thanks. When I have lmnparthally divide<l~ their howling househol goods betweer the olglht sisters who live so ucomi fortably near, thet sun Is sinkmng behiumi the trees In a blaze of glorious yellow, There Is a long road with matny hoef3 turnings, that Calico knows as well aa I, and while she dawdles along it willt a laniguid( elegance that suita us both I alt1 tailor-fashion. in thn bottom o the cart, thinking, thinking, heedless of whip or rein. I read a story once of a devil-fish crawling over the roof of a pretty cot tage by some southern sea. I don't suppose there was a word of truth in it; but, some way, ever since pa made a clean breast of his troubles, I can't get that shiny, black monster out of my thoughts night or day. I should say, indeed, thati a mortgage like ours was a trifle the worst of the two, because there's only one weapon to fight it, and where in the word is pa to get the irst red cent of that terrible three thousand dollars? If pa had only told me in time, perhaps I might have done something heroic with my poultry-a flock of gray geese did grand things for history once on a time-but no, he kept as dumb as Cheops, until I found it all out for my self, and no thanks to anybody. * The way of it was: ma started me down to the meadow one evening last week to see what pa meant by keeping supper waiting, and when I found him leaning against the barn there as quiet and gray as the twilight shadows, why, I think the One who doeth all things well must have put it in my heart to wake him up and tell me the matter. There is no woman in all this big glorious world so weak as Sampson with his head shaved, and so lie told mse between sobs--I don't ever want to see my father cry again-how the big family had gobbled up the small earn ings, how at last there was nothing to do but borrow money on the dear, shabby old place, and now a villainous bill of some sort was coming due. "Never mind, dad," I said, "come along to supper; I'll get you out of your fix." I don't think pa realized at the min ute-and I'm sure I did not-that I had never seen so much as a hundred dollars in all imy life together, for lie followed me home contentedly, put his head under the spout while I pumped, and then, with his hand on my shoul der, went into the house and ate supper enough for twol The next day pa was out of his head with a fever, and now to see him prodding about the farm with a stick in his hand and a pain in his back-poor, dear pal Of course, the first thing that suggested itself at his bedside was blood, and plenty of it and I did saddle Calico and race off to murder the mortgage man-but I might have saved myself the trouble, for the vile creature wasn't at home; then I turned the old mare's head to ward the family sons-in-law, but there wasn't a husband among them who had the cash to spare-they don't seem to spare anything quite so conveniently as childrenl I even decided to "Say, young womanl" I am not a coward but the creature who has brought -the cart and my thoughts to sucn a sudden halt tooks so like some great famished wolf stand ing there at Calico's head, that I shiver from head to foot, and he sees it. "You needn't be afreard," lie gasps, in a rasping sort of whisper. "I haven't the strength to harm you if my will was good for murder-look at this!" His eyes turned toward his breast his right arm lies stiffly across it clotted with something that must be blood, and the fingers look like the flesh of a dead man. I think that he understands that I am sorry for him, for before my heart can junmp back to its right place again, lie drops the reins and touches his mangey cay. "I've been skulkin' in these 'ere woods, miss, nigh onto a week, and what with starvin', and the pain 'o this, I'm most about dead played out." "If you will cut across the fields to that house over there," I say, kindly, I am sure-for God kfiowvs I pity him from the bottom of my hieart-"I will see that you get a good supp)ler." "I couldn't crawl there, much less wvalk, anid my time for supp,ers Is over for this wvorldl, 1 reckon." I am so sorry for the poor, misery ridden creature standing there in the summer twilight, wvith the fragrant woods all aroundi( him, and thme birds chirping s1leeily in the trees-so very sorry, and( I tell hiim so. IIe totters as I say it, and I am just makinig up my mind that Calico and I have a disaigreeable Job before us, when lie lays one miserable hand on the wheel, anid, drawing his face near enough for ine to see time ghastly seams that want has seared there, cries i tm ploringly: "Th'lere's them that's hunting mne to my death; for Godi's sake, won't you help me?'' All my life I have wanted to be a man, and now the time has come to act like one. I am rubbig Calico dlowni in her stall-pa and I being thme emnly inen-I mean pa beinig the only man about the "laco, we do this sort of thing (ourselves-when the dear 01(d fol low hobbles (Iown the pathwvay and puts his head in the door. "S1s," hme begins, with wide, excited eyes, '"did you meet a big fellow diowni thme roadl-a dark chap with lots of bumps and black frizzled whiskers?" I had not, andl I' saidl so. "W~ell, lie camie by here hunting upl seine scamp wvho robbed a banik in Rtichimond and got dowvn to these parts with tihe money in his pocket andI a bullet in his flesh. I started1 him down the nmain road. I wonder you didn't see him.'' "I drove around by the mill." I answered, fluietly enough conidoer ig I feel like a tornado; "Iut lie won't catch his scamp)1 to-night, dad."' "Think not? Why?" "Because I've got him snug in the barn!" '-Goodness, gracious! thent I'll Just Pa is making his way to wvarnm Justice as fast as his weak legs will let hm, when I steady him against the stable door amnd take away his cane. "D)ad," I cry savagely, "I adore you, but If you take another step to harm that man, why-you've only got a dozen dlaughiters to go through the rest of your life." "Youl" gasps p)a-and I wonder the wisp of straw lie has been chewing does not strangle hilni black onl the spot-"a chid of mIne help a thief-" "E~zactly! and she means to make you an accessory after thme act. Now. see here pa, I don't set up to be a cherub, but when a fellow-creature, starved and bleeding, a$ks me to help him in the 1une of God why I mean to help him If I break every law in Vir girnia to atotns-so there!" Pa looks ytunned a bit-as I knew lie would-wavers"a bit, and then laying one big brown paw on my head, as I likewise expected, knowing pa's way as I do, eries stoutly: "Spoken like a man, Sis; and now let's have i look at your villain." When we stand at last before the poor fellow he looks so pitifully helpless stretched out there on" the friendly straw, that pa's loving heart gets the best of his laiv-abiding" luciples, and he bathes the t rt arm ndcrly as if it had never been iaSI -i -vorho. When pa first iloticoPthe jug of water I have brought from the spring and the carriage-robe rolled up for a pillow with the rough side in, he looks at me wonderingly for a second, and then ejaculates with most contented happi ness: "Thank God, Sis, you are only a woman after all!'' I suppose pa mieans well, but it does not sound encouraging c3hsidering I've been trying to do.my duty like a un. Even fathers are human! "It's no use," moanflho poor crea ture, when pa has don1 his best with the wound. "I'm a gof n' fast boss, but she said they shohillt not-touch me "I)on't worry, iy lid," cries pa, cheerily. Right or wrsllg here you stay until '' "It won't be-long-I. feel it counin' fast--and hard-I wouldi have died out there on the black roadside except for her. God bless her! If you-don't. mind"-and1 here he looks at me so like some gaunt, faithful dlog, that I lean over him by pa to catch his dying words-"if you don't mind-will you take this bag from-around my neek? It chokes m-it chokese--" "There, there," says pa, tenderly, and now, my lad, before you go to sleep, tell mne, does this money belong to the bank?" "Yes, yes," cries the dying man, with an imploring glance at pa while lie tries to touch my hand with his own poor, feeble lingers; "take it back, boss, and tell them-tell them-that the reward-belongs to-her -'" Yes, that is the true and simple story of my fortune, no matter what the papers said. For a long time pa would not let me touc)1 a penny. of that $5,000, but when the people at the bank insisted that busifuess was uusi ness, I had earned tI 1noney and there it was, why Not far from Wiener-Neustadt (one hour'sdistance by iailwiy from Vienna) Castle Frohsdorf shines out of the dense forest like a snow white Easters egg in a greenu unest, It is a plain square building, and if it were not for an enor mnous coat-of-arms, with the traditional lilies, no one would suppose it to be the residence of a would-be-king. During the whole 6f the week ending May 14th a deep silence pervaded the park and buildings, and the numerous messengers who arrived from all parts to inquire about the health of the Comte d Chain bord were dismissed without being al lowed to cross the threshold. When the Comte d Chaibord stayed at Gor itz it was not difficult to obtain admit tance into the castle. The first thing that ttrikes the visitor upon entering the vestibule is a life-statue of the Maid of Orleans, bearing a great likeness to the Duchess do Berri, "the man of the family." Opposite to it the walls bears an old coat-of-arms, with the lilies and1( the (late 1480. On the back wall are two large p)ictures, 0one representing the Virgin and Child, the other an 01(1 gray bea11rded man,~ with a baby in his arms. The old mani 3s the ComIte do ChiambordI's p)atroii saint and the baby the Comnte deo Chambordi himiself. The p)ortrait of the baby Chamnbord naturally reminds one of tile scenle hiappened ini 18:30, in wvhich this self-same baby~ played aL promliient p)art and which Odiloii Barriot doscribes in his Memioirs. Of all the kings who have fled from the Tuileries, none dId so wvith more dignity,than Charles X., who brought away his court, his military cab)inet, his master of ceremlonies and court marsh alls. But thle people, and( the Naitionial G ualrd especially, 01pposed( the flight, and wvhile searching the royal carriages gave vent to no very royal feelinurs, In Charenton the mob would hlave si,1opped thle royal processionu altogether but for the little D)ue deC Bordeaux (afterwards the Comlte dhe Chambord) and his sister wvho sittimis in the first carriage, bowed to the people0 and kissed their hainds to themli, as they haud been taught in the days of happy royalty. The mob was touched, the women cried, andl the roy al p)arty passed through the crowd which dlii not eveni murmur. The ves tibule ot Castle Frohsdorf (formerly Krottenidorf, that is toadl village' then Froschudorf-frog's village) opens1 Into a courtyard resemblhlg the garden of a convent. Not a flower nor a shrub to relieve the monotony of the cold, graty stones, the closed windows, the tidly gravel walks, On the stairs and in the halls there are no ornaments except life-sized portraits of dead and1( goine Kings of France. Thirty young French noblemen alterniately do services as the king's chamberlains, and( all they ire ceive for tnieir paimns Is a smile of the King I From Monseigneour 's windm(ows in Frohisdorf weo see a small castle on a hlill which also belongs to time Comnte do Chambord, and which lie inhabits dur ing the hunting seasqon. IIere all the roomis arec adlornedl with stag-heads, stuffed eagles and( woodcocks: thme fur mituro is simple amId nothinug remninds the Comte do (Chambord's visitorsof his hopes aiid aspirations. T wo years age a large parlor was added, whose bow wimndows offer a splendid view of the Semnmering and L~eithma mountains. The PrInce is said to have expressed ai wish to die wvith this view before him. It Is a scene of rare beauty-hundred. year old trees in the foreground and the mountains of Austria In the distance. --There .are 308 0,AR.Pssn Now York.A .Pot i Finding the Trail' Here in the shadow of this grim mtountain is a camp of cavalry-200 men in faded and ragged blue uniforms every face sunburned and bronzed, every sabre and carbine showing long use, every horse lifting iIs head from the grass at short intervals for a swift glance up and down the valley. Here, at the foot of the mountain, the Apache trail, which .has been fol lowed for three days. has grown cold. Aye, it has been lost. It is as if the white man had followed a path which suddenly ended at a precipice. From this lx)int the red demons took wings, and the oldest trailer Is at fault. 'rho men on picket looked up and down the narrow valley with anxious faces. Down the valley, a uile away, a solitary wild horse paws and prances and itters shrill neighs of wonderment and alarm. Up the valley is a long stretch of greon grass, the earth as level as a floor and no visible sign of life. The pines and shrubs and rocks on the mountain side miight hide ten thou sand Indians, but there is not the slightest movement to arouse suspicion. It is a still, hot day. Not a bird chirps, not a branch waves. The eye of a lynx could detect nothing beyond the erratic movements of the lone wild horse adown the valley and the circular flight of an eagle so high in air that the proud bird seemed no larger than a sparrow. For an hour every man and horse has looked for signs, but, nothing has been discovered beyond what has been described. It is a lost trail. There something in it to arouse suspicion as well as annoyance. Ten miles away the trail was as plain as a country highway, and the Indians had no stis picion of pursuit. Fve miles back there were signs of commotion, Here in the center of the valley, every foot lint suddenly disappears. Look, nowl A sergeant with grizzly locks and fighting jaw rides down the valley, followed by live troopers. They are to scout for the lost trail. Every man has unslung his carbine, every saddle-girth has been tightened, aund every man of the six looks over the camp as he rides out as if he had been told that he was bidding a last farwell to comrades. They ride at a slow gal lop. Each inai casts swift glances along the mountain side to his right along the mountain side to his left at the green grass under his lhores's feet. What's that! Afar up the slope to the right something waves to and fro for a moment. Higher up the signal is answered. Across the valley on the other slope it is answered again. Down the valley, a full two miles beyond where the wild horse )IOW Rtands like :' nro of .ftonn, n214 where the valley sweeps to the right like the sudden turn of a river, the signal is caught up and 200 Apaches, eager, excited and mounted, drew back into the fringe at the base of the mountain and wait. The little band gallop straight down upon the lone horse. Now they are only half a mile away, amid his breath comos quick and his nostrils quiver as he stands and stares at the strange spectacle. A little nearer and his muscles twitch and quiver and his sharp-pointed ears work fast er. Only eighty rods now, and with a fierce snort of alarm and defiance he rears up, whirls about like a top, and is off down the valley line an ar row sent by at stroug liaid. Tihe sight may thrill, but it does not increase the pace of those who follow. The men see the wild horse fleeing before them, but the sight does not hold their eyes moure thaii a second(. To the right-to t.he left-above them-down the valley they are looking for a hoof-print, for a trampled sp)ot, for a broken twig-for a sign however insignificant to prove t.hat m11en have p)assedl that way. T1hey finid nothing. Thie signals up tihe mnountaina sidle were visible only for seconds. After the first wild burst of speed the 10110 horse looks back. iIe sees that lhe is not being pulsheOd, and lie recovers courage. iIe no loniger runis in a straight hine, but lie swoops away to the left. swerves awVay to the right, and changes his gait to a trot. When lie hears the shouts of pursuit and the 1louder1 thmnpij of hoof-beats lie will straighten away adld show thme pu~rsuers a gait which niothing but a wvhirl-wind can equal. L4ook I It is only a quarter of a ile now to the turn in the valley. The lonie horse has suddenly stoppedl to sniff the air. IIis ears are polntedl straight ahead, his eyes grow lairger and take on a frightened laok and lie half wheels as if lie would gallop back to those who have seemingly puIrsuedl. Five, eight, ten seconmds, anmd with a snort of alarnm lhe breaks inlto a terrific run, takes the extaeme left of the valley, and goes tearing out of sight as if followed by lions, The grimi sergeant see signs In thme actirns of the horse. Every troop)er Is lookIng ahead and( to the rIght. The green valley runs ito the friege, the f rinlge into a dense thicket, the thicket lnto rock and pi no and miounitaini slope. No eye conkd penletrate that fring~e. The Indians may be ambushed there, or the horse may have scented wolf or griz zliy. "Forward I" No man knows what danger lurks In the frinige, but the order was to scout beyond the bend, To disobey Is igniom huiy and disgrace; to ride forward Is wvaitl There Is no0 air stirring In the valley. Every limb and bough Is as still as If made of Iron1. T1here is a silence which weighs like a heavy bur-' (den, anid the harsh note of' hawk or bunzard would be a relief. hlere is the bend, The valley con tinues as before-no wider-no narrow er-level and unbroken. Th'ie wild hiorase was out of sight long ago, and the six troopers see nothing but the green grass as their eyes sweep the valley from side0 to side. "Turn the bend and ride down the valley for a mile or so and keep your eyes open to discover any pass leading ouit."' "hIalt I" It Is more than a mile beyond the bond. No pass has been discovered. N 0 signs of a trail have been picked up the sergeant has raised himself up for .r long and careful scrutiny, when an 3xclaination causes him to turn his face up1) the valley. Out from the fringe wi ride the demons who have been lurking fo here to drink blood. Five-ten- Ut wenty-fifty--the line has no end. It l tretches clear across the valley before Di , word has been spoken. Then it faces i 1o the right and 200 luilianlI in war aint face the grim old sergeant and his lye troopers. m i " Into line-right dress I" kn It is the sergeant who whispers the . )rder. Six to 200. but he will face the lIt langer. To retreat down the valley is an o be overtaken one by one and shot ho rom the saddle or reserved for torture. ki1 Down the valley there is no hope; up the valley is the camp and rescue. The 0l wo lines face each other for a mhomllent without a unovomont. oil " Now, men, one volley-sling car >nes--draw sabres and charge!" A sheet of ilamie-a roar-a cloud of Imoke, and the six horses sprimg for rard. Then there is a grand yell, a ush by every horse and rider, and a iripool begins to circle. Sabres flash mid clang-arrows whistle-revolvers *" )op--voices shout and scream, and then off he whirlpool ceases. It is not three he nhinutes since the lrst carbine was fired, w I ai ut the tragedy has ended. Every rooper is down and scalped, half ~a a lozen redskins are dead or dying, a I * lozen horses are struggling or stagger ng, and iurning the bend at a mad gal op is the sergeant's riderless horse. ILe carries an arrow in his shoulder. mud there is blood on the saddle. in lye minutes he will be in camp, and the a iotes of the bugle will prove that the ost trail has been found. (lcorge WSh"elinglon's Availh. ha Wa\ith a history extending back nearly a wo hundred years, it is not surprising a hat the recolds of Fairfax county, Va., l ure interesting. The greatest treasure which the court-house contains, how- Pe ver, is the origiial will of George WVashington. When Washington re ired from the otlice of President he vent to Mount Vernon, his country eat, where, on the 14th day of Decei )cr, 1799, he died. Mount Vernon is ni Iairfax country and the wi'll was i,herefore brought lhefore the county ir .oiirt for probate. The record of it is is follows : 'in At a Court held for the County of vir L'airfax, t.he 20th January, 1800. This Last Will and Testament of George Washington, deceased, late President )f the United States of America, was seo iresented in Court by George Steptoc ashington, Samuel Washington and soi vawrence Lewis, three of the Executors qu "herein named, who made oath thereto KIl[ 1l !ltN > llnit 111-%,Yt' ta9 t4 ,'J.v. . -i )f Charles Lit le, Chas. Simns and Ludwell Lee, to be in the true hand writiing of the said Testator, as also the 3cedule thereto annexed, and the said Will, being s (aled and signed by him , as on Motion Ordered to be Recorded. And the said Lxecutors having security nd performed what the Laws require t Certificate is granted them for obtain ing a probate thereof in due form. ei T1estc: L. D111: .. Up to a year or two ago the will was " kept on ill with other papers, notwith- to itanding the distinction which its his- wa Lorical value attached to it. Frequent liandling, however, threatened its do 3truction and the walnut case which it it >resent occupies, was made to pro- lu tect it. The will is plainly visible through the glass top. It i. ragged ed mid torn, and slightly discolored by fi rge. IIalf of (the iurst page which s coinnnences " In (the name of (lie Lord Amen," seems to lie missing, and (lie si other ipages are kept ini place by two strap)s, The iink us wvell pireserved, b)e ing as5 back and d istiinct, appjarenitly, as when fIrst written. T1hie will is written lo oii letter palper, nnruled, in a plaini, 1t roundi( haiid, easily legible. It is quite fr length y, occupying twenty-three pages t,r of (lie large record book into which it 0u hats been copied. It goes into specifies al tievises and1( is dlatedl at, Mount Vernion, a July 9, 17991. Thme case contaiilng (lhe so original is kept in a flre-proof safe.w The schedule which forums a1 part of ev (lie wvill contains a list of (lie property hi owned by Washiingtoni. An interesting aic extract fromi this part, of (lie ducumien4 eli Is as follows :w T1he two lots iiear (lie Capitol, ini ca square 034 cost mec $963 oiily ; but in of this price I was favoured on cond(itioni (a that I should build two brick houses, w thece storey high each. Without (his sai reduction (lie selling price of (hose lots ii would halve cost mec about $1,3J50. so These hots, with (lie buildings thereon, su when completed, will st(and ime ini $15,- cc 1)00 at least. 1i1 Lots No, 5 12, 13 and 14 on (lie as Eastern branci ari advanmtageously sit- am' uated on (lie water, aiid although imaiiy (1: lots, much less coiivenient, have so1(1 a or great deal higher. I will rate these at ibi twelve cents (lie squiaire foot only. se Squiarie 034 Is boumided eon (lie south W by B street, oii (lie west, by Newv Jersey Oil avenue, on (lie north by C street, amid W on (lie eas't by North Capitol street. tr Thme two lots wvhich Washington refer red to were hot 16, frouting fifty-four feet on North Capitol street, and Part of lots 6 and 7, haviig about (lie samii be frontage oii Neow Jersey avenue. Tihe th first lot was purchased by Washhiigtoni Is froRm Danieol Carroll, but there is no so deed of (lie sale oii record. In the of- A flee of (l'e District comimissionors, how- lii ever, there is proof of (lie p)urchiase. ag Washington's heirs sold it to David or Enigli aind WV. S. Nichols, anid ini m course of (ine it was purchiased by tr Admiral Wilkes. It Is now owned by Y (lie National Savinigs' bank. It is (lie trl site of (lie IIllman house, a building ac originally built b)y WVashimeton and 0c- tr< cupied by him as a residence. It is niow a I assessed at $9,000. ThIe prop)erty on bli Now Jersey avenue has been subdivhd- Ei 0(d again and again, until its history is i dimoiult to trace. As near as can be ta ascertained, however, it Is now owned A biy Albert U. IIall George Jeunomani ba and M. Kamnmerer, trustees of E. Hi. be Loutner hiavinig a total assessed value wv of $4, .( The lot on (lie Eastern branchi cannuot be located. --Denver is overrun with gamblers. m Our Nine. - l'he voice that declared that Walker ,'the person who had placed the two il-flags upon second base came from orge Dark. And to verify his word, George ,rk himself cane running in a minute er. 'Didn't I tell you that the K-I-C-K it, kicker would get the game all xed up? asked he, delightedly. "I ow that he would. Ie's a nice man play ball, he is. All of the ball-play ; that he is tit for is ball in theehat, si even then he couldn't play, because ain't got any hat, and nobody that ows ,itm would lend Wipa one." "B8t I. Haw him with a summer - hat - eorge Dark's lips curled coiltemlptsi sly. "Iigh hat, wasn't it?"' asked he. 'Yes." White hat?'' Yes." Know what it was?" "What?" 'Foot and a halfof stove-pipe, white shied. A nd he hooked the stove-pipo of the landlady, too. No wonder r kitchen stove don't draw. But I uln't give Walker away. Although am an old sea-pup--I nean dog--I'm ~utlema, and I don't care who know "Call Walker in.'' ordered Peter Pad We called. All of us. But no Walker responded. In fact, we couldn't see Walker at lie appeared to have faded away. Where could lie have gone to. While we were puzzling over the estion, a freckled-faced, bare-footed, elve years of avoirdupois boy, who d glimmered into our group somehow, >ke Ilp. "Say, boss," said he to Peter Pad, o yer meanu der feller dat wuz out in r lleld ?" "Yes, my son1,'' paternally answered ter. "I know where lhe is." "Whore?" "Gone." Gone?" "Yes, sir." WhVlere?" "Wid a girl. lie said dat he'd got od utv playing base-ball wid suckers, wuz goin' a blackberring. liuldoon, for sona reason, appeared iibly perturbed at this reply. lie cast an anxious look at the fence. [t Was emnpty. No vision of female loveliness was ited up1oni its top rail. "Me lad," said our umpire. "I de re to ask av yez a few intterrogatory eries. Wurl- the fayn r4ly" "Yes, ,air,".Camte t e t" 4 +. rd "Wid bon-foire-1 ,"' ir? ' ".^. Ya i. 'Yes, sir."'' 'Acre soize fato "Yes, sir." Walked wid a ginp?" "Yes, sir.." lIad at red patrasolette?" "I--[ think so." Miuldoon dashed his hat with great sphasis upon the ground. "'I've got enough," he muttered. 'i going back to the farm. I want cut the sprouts off of the chans an y ty."> And so ended our ball miatch. We called It a draw. Ueorge says that for our sakes it was 3ky that we did. lie intimated that if we had not call it a draw it would have been doubt 1 if we had been able to draw our :aries that week. As for Walker*--well, he has not been ice heard fromt. Only A P'aniy 1liuoaao. The muost popular Song of the day by ig odds1 is~ "Only aL Pansy Blhossom ," lipopularmty Is p,henoimenal, judged >mi the standpoints of both the music ide and pubtllic favor. More than 60, 0 coiles of the "P'ansy Blossqom" have eady beeni sold, andi# it is a little over fer old-a long age, by the way, for iigs of Its class. You hear it every tore that music exists, whIch is whier er' men are collected. It Is sung by shu aind low, In city and( hanmlet, with comnpa nien ts from the p'reten tious or ostra to the simtple accordion that siles away the hour of halt around thte mp-fires of the West. T1hme best proof Its poputharity, however, is In the imi Lions of It which have sprung up, aitd iich aLll float easily on the waves of its ecess. Some of thteso htave queer mnes. How does "Only a Tiansy BIos In" strike you, for instamice? If he Is ccessfuil, the song writer can hardly mnplain of his profits. lie receives a oeral royalty-10 p,er cent., usually d, besides, his reputatIon is made, d attention to lis future efforts creby secured. Howard, the compos of .the Pansy Blossom, will make pro bly from $15,000 to $20,000 out of his ng, and( If there are any others who sh to parallel his success they can sily flid plenty of mnusic publishers 1o will give thienm the chance to ~.It. A jjueer Troc. The queerest of trees must be thme obab, or imonkey bread. It grows to s height of forty feet, "but its girth u'ntlrely out of p)rop)ortlin to its he ighit, :ne trees bBing thirty feet i diameter. iold baobab in Africa Is, thon, more .e a forest tItan a single tree. ThIeir' e Is incalculable. Hlumboldt consid them Ias "the oldest livmng organIc miuments of 0our planet." Some ~es are believed to be 5000 years old. >ui cant cut a good-sizedt room into the mnk of a baobab, with comfortable comodlatIins for thirty men, and the ue lives on and flourishes. It produces 'rut about a foot long, which Is edi . As an example of slow growth In ugland, a baobab at Kew, though >reO than eighty years old, has only at ned a height of four and a half-feet. kindred species' to the African obab grows in Australia. They have eni measured, being thirty feet high, th a girth of eighty-five feet. -It Is estimated that the melon crop Is year In Georgia will roach 7,500,000 alons and sell fr 100.000.