Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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' A 1\l' r .<' Iv 1* ~.< TIE ANGEL VANION. isel in hand stood a sculptor boy, ith his marble block before him, his face lit up with a smile of joy an angel dream passed o'er him. arvod it then on the yielding stono, ith many a sharp incision, Heaven's own light the sculptor shone e had caught the angol vision." ilitors of life are we as we stando. ith our souls uncarved before us, ng the hour when at God's command, life's dream shall pass o'er us. carve it then on the yielding stone ith many a sharp incision, eavenly beauty shall be our own, ur lives that augel vision." 1ER WEIIRD. Somehow I cannot believe it will r be." Widow Endicott, only ius ,finished undonsciously aloud. It will be, and sooner than you ik," interrupted a voice beside see you have not heard the WThe news?"' John Renniman is dead." De6ad, Jacques, do you say?" Yes; he died of fever on his way e on the Scotia. You know what t means, of course; the smoothing 11 difficulties for Rame, and, though will mourn his cousin most siicerely, easy fulfilment of his hopes.". 11 interest,they went on discussing, id many a family that day in Little yen, the unexpected fortune that befallen Raymond Renniman with cousin's death. It was nothing to m that the girl in the window bent, h moment, deeper above her work; y did not note even when suddenly threw it aside and crept out of the he was not supposed to have any in est in the Renuimans, alive or dead'. smile flashed, with the thought, on girl's pale face as she went down hall. So well she had kept her ret from Aunt Endicott and Jac esi Even in the startling fate of this sh hour she realized there might be Still smiling, she stepped out on the tle balcony which fronted on her amber. It was so pleasant to remem r now what until now she had quite gretted-that there had been sharp ords, even, between them and her be use she would not marry Raymond nniman; that they, in their secret arts, were this mnoment bemoaning it she might have boen all in all where Wshe was ; Nothing at allI N The night was fair; the pressure of e thought showed suddenly in pain 1 plainness on the fresh,strained face. othing at all-hough, but for her n denying, she would have been the ife of this man she loved so fondly; ver so fondly, so eternally, it seemed Renie Endicott, as this moment she me for the first time, truly to realize might be-never. At least his wife. The truth flashed learly, but truth this little moment ad lost its sting. She clasped her ands and at the shining sky looked up ith a mad regret for what she had one. It was nothing to her that In eymond Renniman's heart there was o love, there could never be any love, or her; that his seeking her in marriage as but the fulillment of a promise ade to a dying parent whose affection e had won. There was one his soul orshipped, well she knew but-she id not care; it were enough to have en his wife. At least, his wife. Moon and stars emed to laugh at her for her folly; uddenly she realized the strange fancy ~he had almost unwittingly cherished, l~hat since that day of his calm propo 1,a lis fate was linked to hers. D)e ~pite Elise Greydon, despite her own rrejetion, she had hedged it close Sy through the months, never yielding he odd hope that all would yet come ight between them. v~Until now. Now? John Renniman &as dead; his cousin was his only heir, ~Ind the entire wealth of the dead de e~cnded to him. The sole barrier to ~is marriage with proud Adam Grey don s daughter was removed; as Jac ues had said, it wouldl be sooner than e~hy thought. No? It was a hard little moment arz Reits Enidicott, but she quickly alzdisfolly and struggled with it. ~ he bent her thoughts determinedly 4'tward John Ronniman. She had never en him; she had1( heard of him only as Sstrange, grave man, with some mys try in his life-a mystery of a woman's ealings which they said would follow mtodeath. And death had come, Bnd-since life was- death, she sup ~osed, nay, she was sure, that lie had The moon lit up a bit of river just $eyond the roadway. She shivered as he looked over it; she forget herself nqite in the tender pity that arose in ~er heart for him. After such a life die this sad, sad wvayl It were hard ~fr any, but to him surely life owed o eime little recompense of love and lhon r before it ebbed away. i ~A pity-a pity. Many a loveless ~ight, lookinig out over the waters, she .~tought of him; with strange persis tncy the ghost of John Renniman kept ~lling up her life. SOnly a ghost! Tihe truth flashed a *udder and a strange regret for its. emptiness ofttimes through the loveless ~days.* * * John Rlenniman was dead. A con tagious fever bad broken out on ship board; he had died after a few days' .sickness, and was buried in the sea. Hils baggage, thme papers found upon his person, were handed over to the proper parties, and, all in due time, May mond Roenniman came into posses5 sion of wealth which ranked him one -of the richest men in the country, and first among the many suitors for the hand of proud Adam Greydon's daugh ter. There folbowed, ore many days, a buiet wedding at Greydon Manmer; for though grief was sincere, love was im patient, all the same. One was there among the few invited guests-one who listened to the marriage vows with .pleased smile upon her lips as she saw the eye of some ne directad to. wards her and knew what they were thinking. But-. She was over it a little, Rente Endi cott had thought; she had run the or deal bravely, was all she could congrat ulate herself, that hour it was over. And to one thing quickly she made up her mind. She oould not-she would not Look -more on the man she loved In his first flush of happiness with anoth er. She must she would go away. "I need a ciange; I wll go to Ben ton for the winter." So, quietly, the next morning, she said so to Aunt Endi cott and Jacques, and two days later she was on her way to the little western town which,in past time, she called her home. It was a long journey; she always dreaded it. and this time it seemed as though it never would reach its end. She turned surprised as one in the car remarked that they were traveling at a breakneck, dangerous rate of speed. For her the train jogged on all too slowly, whatever its rate might be. She was so forlorn, so lone amid all this chatting crowd of people; she had not even that absurd fancy which other times had borne her company. She had Only a ghost, she thought. It was a relief when a man entered at a station and took the seat beside her. [t seemed not quite so drear, so lone, though through the still long Journey he never once looked at her, nor vouchsaf ed a word. She had dreaded most he would, yet she could but wonder he did not; she could not forbear an oc casional fleeting glance of curiosity into his grave but handsome face. It grew a fascination; it grew-a terror. For the thought suddenly seized her it was all a fancy-that the man beside her was simply a vision her hpagination had conjured up. A fresh thought flashed she could not endure; quite beyond herself, she stretched# out her hand to touch and know what this strange thing might be. "Only a ghost-her ghost?" Tho cry was on her lips almost the words were pouring out wfhen sudden ly-a crash one dreadful little moment of shock, o1 horror, and she found her self sitting amid a mass of debris close at the water's edge. She was too stun tied, too dazed to remember what had happened. Lacking the consciousness that she was unharmed, and impulse to extricate herself, she sat dully listening to the cries and groans around her, most fancying it a dream. Suddenly, looking downward, she saw the face of the man who had sat beside her in the car-upturned, white, motionless, at her feet. The eyes were closed, a little stream of blood trickled down from the forehead; he was surely (lead, she thought, as the dreadful fact of the accident came back to her; but quickly she bent and stanched the low as best she could, dipping her hand in the near, blessed waters, and bathing the lifeless face. Might it be that ho should Ilvel So she queried, looking with an all absorb ing interest and anxiety down at him, with a strange growing feeling of right and kinship she never thought to ques tion. A cry of joy burst from her lips when, at last, the lids trembled, and the dark eyes opened slowly. Just he looked at her, and then a smile broke on his face. It was a smile men had not seen on that face for years. "Dear," he said, faintly. "is it you after all this time? I am glad-so glad." lie groped weakly for her hand, and, all naturally, she gave it to him. A pang thirilledl her as suddenly lie drop ped it, with fading smile and another look in his face. But it was kindly still. "I thank you,'' lie spoke again; "you are-very kim -- " TIhe voices of helpers interrupted. As if bsy imi,uhu, no strovo for a card in his pocket and handed it to her. She simply glanced at it, and , Ier hiand~ dropped; sihe fell back ward ini a swvoon. "John lienniman." Th'iat was the niame upon tho card. * * * * * * * It was (lays cre Itenie iEndicott wvas herself again. Uninjured save a few trifling bruises, she was able to travel the little distance to JBenton by herself; but, with thei reaction, fever and deli rumt set in and waged a brief but mighty war against her.. 11er first clear thought was to the strange event of that last moment, and it absorbed her through the days. At times It seemedi all a dream, a wild fancy born of the excitement of the moment and the white face shte looked upon. Again and each time surer, it was a simple, rationial fact; this was only anotber John IBennlman whom she had chanced to meet. She strove to forget it quite, so sure the latter grew, and somehow so much pleasanter seemed her weird. But she could not; each day it filled her mind the fuller, each day sihe saw more clear ly the rare, fond smile, more distinctly heard the mysterious, tender words this John Rleimniman had spoke to her. She was lost in It still the day this little note was brought to her: "Mlay I have tihe plcasure of seeing and thanking you again for your kind ness at Rlavenr Forks? "JOHN REtNNm.AN." The gentleman was below, the ser vant said. She went down confusedly with just the clear thought that she was glad. Glhad for what? That he had recovered from his ijuries, she qluietly said to him. But as the dark eyes smiled down on her, and the deep, rich voice respondeld, the realization flashed that, though she had forever lost her weird, though this was but a newv John Rtenniman, she was glad for something else. It wvas a pleasant interview; it was all so natural at parting she should ask him to come again. And again and again he came, each time more eagerl welcomed and anticipated, till final~ his presence grew an essential sweetne to her life, and the Image of Raymond Renniman, as fate oft ordains it, drop ped out of memory. She loved this new John Renniman: she know that he loved her. But the e was a strange reticence between thei which puzzled her on both their parts. Ilis love seemed ever to tremble on his lips, but lie did not speak it; she know surely, at times, that he forced it back. And she could never bring herself to speak to him of Little Haven, much less to tell the tale of that other John Renniman, which should have been all so natural. She was pondering Its strangeness even in his company one evening, when a letter came from Jacques. She open ed it for a mere glance at the contents, and her eyes fell on a bit if news which made her quite forget herself. Raymond Ronniman was bankrupt; by the rashest speculations he had lost the entire wealth which had but just accru ed to him. "lie has done this[" she cried aloud. "Raymond Renniman has done this. Thrown away in chances the money which came to him only from a dead man,. What---" she spoke as if to herself, bur suddenly she paused re membering, and startled by the look in her companion's face. It was a look of surprise, not unmixed with pain. "You know Raymond Renniman?" lie broke in hastily, "And you say that lie has done this folly? I -1 His look changed; a smile, much the smile of that other day, crept over his countenance. "I am very glad," he finished, grasping with sudden venting passion, the hand which held the letter, "so glad, little Renie, because the news rids me of all perplexity, and makes all things right between us." What did he mean? She could only stare at him; whi,e a bit freed from that first blissful thought that had so engrossed him, lie looked back, ah, a, tenderly, but again surprisedly at her. "You have known all thus, and you never suspected me?" he said. "But -how could you? It is a strange tale, little Renie. A few months ago I was in Londonand decided to return home. My stateroom was engaged; I had written to Raymond when I would sail; but, almost at the last moment, the freak seized me not to go. A poor fel low I had long known was anxious to go over, and to him I proffered the pas sage, trusting to him some important papersi and my baggage, thinking to follow at my pleasure. Ten days after I read what you know. The facts moved me strangely. He had been taken sick a day out, and dying in deli rium, none had ever learned his name. There was naught in his belongings by which the truth could be traced; he was not unlike me in appearance. Moreover lie was a friendless man; to no one his death would matter. It all flashed on- me, and I was an unhappy man, Little Renie. I had often wished I was dead, and I resolved to leave the matter as it was. I knew Rlaymond's troubles, and I determined to let him have my fortune to live, where I did not care, somewhere away from him. I drifted out into this new country; I lived on-ah, the <dull, dead life till that day I saw you, Little Reile. Darling, the touch of your little hand brought back something more than life to mel And I have been loving you-loving you ever since that blessed moment, but with always the thought in my heart how I could come back to life and do what was right by Raymond. But now, poor ILaynmondi I am sorry for him; but, oh,* my way is open. Darling-darling, do you care so much for this lost money, or can you do with me?" She had listened in amazement, but his arms had closed around her; now the tender kisses were raining on her lips.% bWhat more for enie Rndicott? Shyly she looked up at him. "With joy," she murmured, fondly. The smile of other years beamed again on John Boennimants face. Life had paid the debt it owed him. It was a strange tale to go bactf to ILittle hlaveii. Tito Minister's Wife. T wo ladies entered a Fort street ear one day recently and took seats beside a lady well known to one of them. She gave her friend an intro'duction, and dteotiy. this one remarked: "I think I saw you at the--.Street OChurch one Bunday, several weeks ago." *-Yes." "You seemied to be as much disgusted with the sermon as I was, for I saw that you yere terribly une..y, "Yes," again." "Did you ever hear a worse preacher in all your life?" "Wecli, perhaps." ".i never did, and I haven't been there sin e." The conversation then rattled off on some ether subject, and by and by tihe two iadies got off. " I wonder why she didn't agree with me about that preacher?" queried the one who had bias edi him. "Why, how could you expeot her to? She's that very minister's wifel" Bards Oan wires, Some very curious observations have been made on the German telegraph wires at the instance of the Secretary of the Post-office, and, in a paper read neforo the Eiectrotechnic Society of Berlin, some interesting facts were given proving that in districts were there are no trees the smaller birds of prey, such as sparrows, starings and swal lows, Iroquently alight on the telegraph wires in arreat numbers. Swallows like to build under the eaves where the wires run into the offlees, and sometimes cause an "earth" contact, Contacte be tween wIre and wire are frequently oaused by large birds, such as bustards, storks, swans aind wild ducks. They cause the wires to bend and sometimes to break. Accidents of this kind were frequent when the wires run by high roads alqng which younzg geese wera driveni to their pastures, Smaller birds, even partridges, areQgenerally killed by the shook of strikig~g the wires. They do not cause much datuage to the lines. Uoles aire often pecked through the poles by woodpeokekd, the picas mar)(na.or plack( woollpoker, the picas virida dr greeu woodpecker, and the picas major or piebald woodpecker, none of which spare any kind of woodl with which they ome in ontaot, Logan, the Mingo There are few intelligent persons in the civilized world who have not road the speeoh of Logan, the Cayuga usually called the Mingo-ohief. and ad mired its simple, pathetio eloquence. It will live as long' as oration on the Crown, yet not one in a thousand who know it by heart know when and how it was made. It may not b( uninterest ing to tell the story as it was told in the deposition of John Gibson, the first secretary and second Governor of in - diana Territory. In 1774, says the de position, Mr. Gibson accompanied Lord Dunmore on the expedition against the Shawneos and other Indiatis on the Scioto; that on their arrival within fif teen miles of-the towns they were met by a flag and a request thal. some one should be sent in who unde ood their language, and he went at the request of Lord Dunmore and all the officers; that on his prrival at the towns, 14ogau, the Indian, came to where this deponent was sitting with Cornstalk aid the other chiefs of the Shawnees, an4 asked him to walk out with him; that they went into a copse of wood, where they sat down, when Logan, after shedding abundance of tears, delivered to him the speech nearly a3 related by, Mr. Jeffer son in his "Notes on Virginia," The speech was delivered to Mr. Gib son alone, apparently, and orally, too, for wo can hardly suppose that Logan wrote it, in the fashion of modern ora tors, and gave it to his friend to publish or preserve. Reporters were not known among the Shawnees in that day, and if they had been, Logan couldn't write. We infer, therefore, that this sudden outburst of uncultured eloquence was merely an Indian'a "talk" with a friend. Mr. Gibson does not say that ho wrote it down or repeated it to Mr. Jefferson, but we must suppose he did one or the other, as nobody else heard it; and the supposition in strengthened by his car tification that Mr. Jefferson had pro served it "nearly" as it was delivered, Probably the general idea has been pretty much the same as ours, that the chier made his speech at an assembly of whites and Indianu, and some of the auditors remembered it well enough to telt it to others, and it has got to Mr. Jefferson. The man who proposed and led the expedition which murdered Logan's family-against the protest'ol Mr. Zane, the founder of Zinesville was Michael (3resap, of whom nothing appears to be known but this infamous butchery. A few days afterwards a worthy companion in cruelty, one Daniel Greathouso, led a party in a massacre of the Indians, soeie forty or fifty miles higher up the Ohio. The coasequence was an Indian war and a desperate battle at the mouth of the Ureat Kanawha, led by Logan. who had always before ueen -the white man's friend," as he says, and by Cornstalk, Red. Hawk and Elemipsico. The whit3s lost 75 killed and 140 wounded, a bloodier battle than' Tippecanoe, where the whites had 87 killed on the field and 160 wounded. Logan is said to have lived on the creek bearing his name, on which Alexander Cambell lived and founded Bethany college, and had his cabin or wigwam set near the site of the' college. The Delawares and Snawnees, who composed the major part of the force that fought the battle at the mouth of the Kanawha, held the terri tory where our city stands, and all the eastern and southeastern part of the State, when it was ceded in 1818. She Knew Ilimi i3bst, John William Blank belon ged to the A ncient and Modern and Highly Hion. orable Sons of Gunis of D~etroit If it wasn't that, it was sonie other frater nal order which meets every Monday night and1( pays so much to the heirs of every member who happens to die. Johun Wilam happened to die the other month, and a committee was ap pointed to draft resolutions and present them to his wife In person. 'The first part of their duties was fulfilled to the entire satisfaction of the lodge, but the committee had some little trouble in finding Mrs. Blank. They traced her from one neighbor to another, and fin ally lound her at her sister's, hat and shawl on and ready to go out. "Resolutions of sympathy, en? Well, read 'cm.'" The Chairman of the committee pro ceeded to read that John WIlliam was a good husband and a kind father and a citizen of unappronchablo integrity, when the widow interrupted: "Too much taffy! We used to have a fight every week, and as for his being a kiind father we never had any cil dren. As for his integrity lhe stole all the wood we burned last winter!" The Chairman gulped down some thiing and continued to read that John William was an upright brother, a man with a heart full of sympathy for the misfortunes of others, and that charity and forgiveness were the beacon fires which guided his footsteps. "FudgeP' sneered the widow. "I washied for the money to pay his dues to the lodge, and all the sympathy any one got out of him wouldn't buy a cent's woriA of court-plaster! Forgive ness! Well, somne of you ought to have sat dlown on his liat some time! He'd have reven~ge If it cost him a year In Slate Prison. iBeacon fires Is purty good, considerin' thamt we never had a decent stove In the house!" "Madam, your hus band hats been called henice.'' "Exactly; I was at, the- fumneral and ought to know." "Hie was cut downm like a flower." "W~ell, flowers ought to let whisky saloons and plug-tobacco and old sledge alone." "And we truist that our loss Is lisa gain." "WVelh, If lhe's any better off 1zi glad on't, but I guess the gain Is on your side. Now that's all I want to hear. I can pick up a thousand better men tihan him wIth my eyes shut. I'm in a hurry to go down and see a woman who offers to sell a fur-lined circular for $15,and If you haveoany more hightalul tin Shakapeare to git off my sister will take it in and nava it tillTIcnma batekI Uongo Natural History. The elephant Is very abundant on th< Upper Congo; and every morning, a you ascend the river, traces of thei last night's devastations may be seen for they seem to have a tendency towart wanton destruction and waste, beinj like parrots and monkeys in only eatin about a quarter of the food they pro cure, and scattering the rest right an< loft with wanton caprice. So, on th islands of the upper river, where thi graceful borassus palms grow ht% theli thousands, each blue-green palm witl its cluster of orange fruit, the elephan is to be constantly seen--some times It broad daylight, but more often towardf sunset-breaking his way through th pillar-like clusters, destroying many c beautiful palm for the sake of thosi orange colored stony dates of which hi Is so strangely fond. You may als< see them, as I have, in the short houi of tranquil twilight, when the sky as slines a faint golden tdne, when thi great smooth sheet of water is of th iname rich color, and stretches away to wards the horizon of the broad lake like Congo where it melts indistinguish ably into tle warm sky, then you ma3 see the elephants walking out in Indiar file from the sheltering forests into tiy shallow parts of the river, where they disturb the perfect calm of its reflected gold with many ripples, looking like blue scratches on its sur face. Here, if you are not too near, you may see then squirt streams of water over their dry heated skins, and observe the motho elephant carefully accompanying hei young one during the bath. But ordi narily it is at night time, and, above all when there is a moon, that the ele phants come down to drink and bathe Moreover, they are much more com monly seen on the Congo during th dry season, as then the many little for est brooks are likely to be dried up, aml the elephants are compollec to ineu greater publicity in their bath by seek ing the great Congo. * * * * * * Hippopotami are often a source o danger to native canoes, as they folloN them at times ant upset them by ajer of their huge ieads underneath. O0 o01e occasion .I had a personal experi ence of their spite or their ill-timed play whichever it, may have been. I was de sceiding the Congo in one native canoe and in another was soei of my luggage The first canoe, in which I was seated with three Zanzibaris paddling, roun ded a little promontory somnewinat ab ruptly, and cane suddenly oi a grou of hiippop~otami sunnminig thiemiselvosil la the bank. Three of them deiboratel' gave chase to the canoe, and for somi Limae ran uis perilously hard, keeping u] within a few feet of the boat, and onl2 occatsionally showing their nostrils aboy water. At last they found that a steri chase was a long cnase. and desistud turning about and endeavoring to at tack the baggage canoe, which was fo: lowing. For a moment I feared for in luggage, but the natives who wor paddling managed cleverly to elude tLi iippos, and put out into the middle u the Congo. Here the river horses dc clined to follow, for I have observe they have a strong objection to swin ming far out of their depth, and more over, would find it hard to resist bein carried away by the furious curreti that races down the middle of tli strean. You may also Le sure of avoit ing a chase by hippopotami if you ste1 your canoe towards the centre of thi Congo; but then, en reanche. you ai likely to get into one of the many whir pools and be upset, s.> it is rather a ca of "out of the frying-pan into the fire. What keeps the hippopotami from gan bolling in the middle of the river is a equally serious deterrent to canoe tra vehlers. As for this great amp~hiibial he prefers, in tihe dlaytimne, to froetir those large submerged sanidbainks th; are so common in the Congo. A letter from on board the trainit schioolship St. Mary's, at Newv Londoi says: The past twvo mont11s have bee busy ones for tile gradmiuting boys, wh have bein constantly occupied in pr paring themselves for the ordeal of tl: coming examinatin. They have bee hard at work preparing specimens< their skill in the use of the marling pike, and palm, and needle. Navigm tion has also hail a large share of the attention, and they begin to feel then selves capable of navigating a ship t any part of world and under' all circun stances. Tis year the boys have bet divided in a manner different from ti rule heretofore followed, that is, th first and seconld divisions are compost of the graduating class and those of tI new boys who have merited the' hion by their behavior and application du: in~g the cruise, so that the new boys th year have h~ad the same chances< learning that the olboys have had, am next year the graduating class wvil without doubt, be an exceptionably fiu one0. About three weeks ago we le New London for a short cruise to bre; the monotony of the harbor routine at first visited Gardiner's bay, which lit to the eastward of Long Island, an where we remained for three days, J Is rather a desolate place, about te miles from Greenport. The only lhou: in sight from the ship1 was at the ligh house, about two miles distant. Unii lng our stay the weather was any thir but pleasanmt, as it rained most of ti time, and that, with tihe fog, made: very disagreeable. From Gardiner bay we wvent to Newport, Rt. L WV remnainedi there only thtres or four day; and most of us were glad to return I New London. After returning instea of anchoring off the Pequot house, a usual, we came up and dropped ancho off Fort Trumbull, which is much mor convenient for commnunicating wit thme city and is much pleasanter in ever way. We "turn out" at sIx o'clock in th: morning and immediately go to wor scrubbing clothes, after whmich on watch washes the spar deck, while th other watch cleans the gun deck. I this way the time before breakfast: occupied. At eight o'clock swe ha, b)reakfast, after which we prepaze f( inspection, which takes place at hal past nine, Immediatolv afte Insne tion we go to our studies and exercises, which continue until half-past 11. For 3 school and exercise the boys are separ s ated into four divisions; the first and r second are composed of the boys of the ,graduating class and such of the new oys as have merited the honor of being advanced; the third and fourth sections ; are composed of the new boys or those who have made only one cruise. The I instruction consists of navigation, sail making, knotting and splicing, hand ling sails and exercise with the boats in rowing and sailing. At noon we have i dinner, from which time until half-past one no work is done except by those a whose turn it is to clean the mess gear. i At half-past one school begins again and continues until three, when it is closed for the day, and from then until supper, which we have at six o'clock, the boys tare allowed to go away in the boats, i rowing or sailing, wherever they please. After supper the boats are hoisted, and then the time is our own until hammocks are piped down at nine o'clock. Photographiug Sound. Pnotography appears to be running a race with elootrioity in curious develop monte and novel applications. Rook wood, the well knwn Now York photo grapher, has just achieved the remark able teat of photographing sound waves instantaneously. The instrument by which the sound wave was represented, or '"made visible in its effect, is s now telephone, the inventor of which has ob tainel from Mr. Rookwood a perfect ooular demonstration of its vocal repeat ting action. The vibrating diaphragm, upon which the voice is projected, has a fine metallio point mounted on the centre of its reverse side. This point moots the pointed end of a conducting wiro so nearly that when at rest the intorval betwen the two points can be discovered only through a strong lens. The thing to be do.-e was to show in a picture 01 the instrument, or rather in a series of picturos, the atornato contuct r and separation of points from the vibra lions inmparted to the diaphragm by the voice, involving th closing and open ing of the electrical circuit and tho eon sequont reproduction of the mame rate of viuration in the receiving mstrument at the other end of the lino. In con sittoring this4 problem Mr. Rooitwood found himself indebted to his recollec tion of an experiment by Herschel in photographing (or daguerrootyping) with th oleo rio spark. Herschel caused a four-aided prism of wood, around r which a picture was pasted, to revolvent high speed in a turning lathe. By illu mauuntiUg this rvolving picture with the electric spark (in total darku3s other wi3e) he obtaiued a photograph of it as e standing still at that instant in its rovo lution when the spark ih shod, Mr. ihokwood carofully focused his photographio camera on the points or the telophone by daylight, and a battery y of Loyden jars was so adjusted that e when discharged it would throw the o proper illuminatton on the points. Mr. r Rookwood's instantaneous plates were now to be tested under action some five i hundred times quicker than a sensible instant and invisibly minuto. Of course it was as yet a practical question g whether they could ofootively receive t as quickly as the elootrio spark would e give this infinitesimal action of light. !- Wiaiting until the darkest Dour of the r night, the plate was uncovered in total e darkness, lho telephonis began speak -e ing into his instrument, and the iliumi 1- nating spark was flashed upon the points c desired. This operation was repeated " with more than twenty plates in sucees. a.- sion. The resulting negatives, on being ni developed, proved a trimpth in two -arts and a science. The photographs u, printed from them showed under the Lt glass, in some, centioct of the points and ,t in other.s a vairiety of inliuitestmnally duronced intervals bet weeni them. Not one of th impressions had more than the one twenty-four thou sandthof a secondl in which to be begun g and ended. n )valuable D~reaming, te On Septemnber 2, Mr. Samuel Drey n f us of Mlemphis, for niany years deputy )f sheriff in charge of the criminal court, 5- dhied at his residenice in that city of anl L- affection of tic lungs. On the 5th of ir September one of his sons visited Dr. 1- Goodyear aiid inquired if his father had o left any private pap~ers with him, as It 1- was wvell known that the dleceased had ni been a member of several benevolent *e institutions in Memphis, and a look te over those papers found at home re d vealed but onb policy on his life, and ie that was in the order of the Knights ir and Ladies of Ihonor. It was kno wn to r- his family and relatives that hie had left is policies ini other organuizations of a simi >f lar character to the amount of $t0,000. d Dr. Goodyear1 wvho had been on inti 1, mate terms with the deceased, dId not te remember of his having left any papers ft with him, biut, to be0 certain, caretully .k examninedI the contents of his sate, but d failed to find anay. Mr. Ben K. Pullen 3s formerly chief clerk in the shoriff's of: d flee, was also questionied by the son of ~t the dleceasedl, but he, too, (lid not ro in member of any papers being left in his me care. Three dlays after ward the brother. b- in-law of the deceased called on Dr. -Goodyear and made the same statement, g regarding the missing policies as had ic the son. Aniothuer search wvas made, it but it, too, provedi fruitless. A few 's days after, so relates Mr. Ben K. Pul e lon, lie fell asleep in his oflice and m, dreamed that Sam Dreyfus appeared be o fore him aind asked: "What had become d of his p~apers which lie had given him .s while in charge of the sherifi's oumce?" r lie answered: "They are safe whore I e placed them," and, suddenly awaken Ii ing, p~rocceeded at once to the sheritf's y ofllce, which is on the floor above, and founid the missing-package intact, wvhere e he had placed it many months ago. The kC package was Without delay turned over e to the family of the deceased, and in it e were the missing policies. aRmLassURIN~G: Steuc man--"What I a ~e Ilady physician ? I want a doctor, to ~r Imake mae well--not a woman, to make r.. Ilove to me." Woman physician (bash. ~. full)-,-"I nroamas n to d an i-k-. THE VERDICT THE PEOPLE. BUY THE BEST[ MI. J. 0. BoAo--Dear Sir: I bougtit the first Davis Machine sold by you over fve years ago for my wife who has given It a long and fair trial. I am well pleased with it. It never gives any rouble, and is as good as when first bought. Winnsboro, 8. C., April 1883. Mr. BoAG: Ion wish to know what I have to say in regard to the Davis Machine bought of You three ears ago. I feel I can't say too much in is favor. made about $80,00 within five months, at times running it so fast that the needle would get per fectl hot from friction. I feel confident I could not hve done the same work with as much ease and so well with any other machine. No time lost in adjusting attachments. Tho lightest runnin machine I have ever treadled. Brother Jatnes an? Williams' families are as much pleased with their Davis Machines bought or you. I want no better machine. As I said before, I don't think too much can be said for the Davis Machine. Respectfully, ELLEN STuVENSON, Fairfldid County, April, 1883. MR. BOAO: My macnino gives me perrect satis faction. I find no fault witi it. The attachments are so sim1le. i wish for no better than the Davis Vertical Feed. Respectfully MRS. It. MILLIXG. Fairfield county, April, 1883. . M I. BOAU: I oougnt a lavis Vertical Feed w ing Machine from yon four years ago. I am lighted with It. It never has given me any o utile, and has never been the least out of order. It is as good as when I first bought it. I can cheerfully recommend it. Rtespectfully, Mits, M. J. KIRKLAND. Monticello, April 80, 1883. This is to certity that I have been using a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for over two years, purchased of Mr. .J. t. itoag. I haven't found it pl)sesset of any fault-all the attachments are so sim pie. It, never tfuses to work, and i ceortatinly the ightest running in the market. I conalder It a lirst-class inachine. Very respectfully MINNIIE M. WILLINOHAM. Oakland, Falrileld county, 8. C. Mn bOAU: i n wen ytcasert in every particu wit h the Davis Machine nought of you. Ithink a flrst-class machine in every respect. You know you sold several machines of th same make to ditferent members of our families, all of whom, as far as I know, are well pleased with themn. tespectfully, MRS. M. ii. MoBLRv. Fairileld county, April, 1883. ThIs 1. to cortIry wO have-jial In constant ts the Davis atachino bought of you about three years ago. As we take in work, and have made the price of it several tiues over, we don't want any bettor machine. Itls always ready todo any kind of work we nave to (10. No puckeringor skipping stitches. We can only say we are well please ancu wish no better machine, CATHEInNE WYI.IR AND SIsTE t. April 25, iSSi. I have no 1ault, to hnd witt ny macine, and don't want iiay better. I have mdedo the prico of it severa. times by taking in 0swimg. It is always ready to do Its worm. I I muk it a Ilrslclass ma chino. I feel I can't say too much for lhe Davli Vertical Feed Machine. Mits. THiOMAs SUTI. Fairtield cointy, April,.1883. MR. J. 0. BSOAO-Dear Sir: it gives lite much pleasure to testify to the merits of the Davis Ver tical Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I got of you about five years ago. has been almost in con stant use ever since that lime. I cannot see that It is worn any, and has not cost me one cent for rep~airs since we have hadl it. Am well pleasort and don't wish for any better. Yours truly, ItoDT. CRAWFOtD, GJranaite Quarry, near Winnsboro S. C. Wc have used the D~avis Vurticat Feed Sewing Machine for the last five years. WVo would not Save anly oilher miake at any price. The mlachmoe has given tus unboundoct satisfaction. Very respectfully, Mae. W. K. TUnNsis AND DAUOnlT~lsj Fairfield county,8S. C., Jan. 27, 1883. hlavmng bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing Macline from Mr. J. 0. lunig some three years ago, andi it having giveni me perfect satisfaction in every respfect, as a ramnily machine, bioth for hoavy and lighmteewwing, and niever needed the least re pair in any way, I can cheerfully recommendtit 111 any one as a flrst-chass mnachinec In every partica lar, andi think it aecondi to none. It, Is une of the simplest machines made; miy chiildren use it with all case. The attachments are more easily ad justed andl 1t doos a greater range of work by means of its Vertical Leod than ainy other ma chine I have ever seen or used. Mate. TnlostAs OwINGs. Wiunsboro, Fairfild cotunty, S. C. We have had one of the Davis Machines about four years andi have always found it ready to do asJ kinds of work we have hal occasion to to. Can't see that the machine is worn any, and works as well as when new, Mas. W. J. CaAwgonp, Jackson's Creek, JFairfld county, 8.'0. My wife is highly pleased with the Davis Ma. chine bought of you. She would not lake double witat an gave for it. 'Thie machine has not been out of order since she had it, and she can (1o tnny kind of Work on it. Very Respectfully 8A. F. Fae. Monticello, Fairfieldl county, 8. C. Th'ie Davis Sewlhg Machine is simply a reas. ti'.f Mite. J. A. G.OODwTN. lIitdge way, N. C., Jan. 10, 1e83. ., ( BOACJ, Esq., Agnt-Dear Sir: My wife has neon using a Jiav Sewing Machine constant ly for the past four years, and it has nover needed any repairi an.i works just as well as when first bought. She says it wvili (10 a greater range of practikal work tend (10 it easier andi better than any machine she nas ever used. We cheerfulLy recolnmend it as a No. 1 family machine, Your tru.y, JAB. Q. DAVIS. Winnaboro, 8. C., Jan. 8, 1888. Min. BoAG: I have always found my Davis Ma. chine ready do alt kinds of to work I have had 0o easion lo de. I cannot see that the machine is worn a particle and it works as wemi as when new. Rtespectfully, MsRS. tC, GooDIxe. Winnaboro, S. C., April,188e, . Ms. Boto : My wife has been cOnstantly using the Davis Machine bought of yon about live years ago. I have never regretted buih it, as it is always read for any kind of famy sw ng, either ntea orlgt. Itles never out of or needing Fairlield, 8, 0,, March, 1888,