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TRI-WEEKLY EDITION. WINNSBORO. 8. C.. DECEMBER 11, 1883 DESTALISHE u., i THE VERDICT --OF ATFHE 'PEOPLE. BUY THE BX .M. J. 0. O40-Dear 8lr: I bpught the first Davis Machine sold by you over Ave years ago for mny Wf Who has given it a long and air trial. I an We Pleased witt it. It never gives any rouble, ud Is as good as when first bought. Winnsboro, .. 'Alrih 188. Uoo. Mr. BoAU: 1o1 wish to know what I have to say e aa . . Lfee I, yto Inub i I fvor. Made about $80,00 within ve months, at times running it so fast that the needle would get per fqctl .ho, r r In. feel c #1 -1 could n~tbvl lie ne or~ .w il tfuQn ehe e~IWl a T hi~~ine. .?*tfie I~ Williams' families are as much pleased with their Davis Machines bought or you. I want no better Maachine. As I said before, 1.4on't thlnk too much can be said for the Davis Machine. tespectfully, Fairileld County, April, LEN STvBNNSON, MR. BeAU; My macnne gives me perrect satts .faction, I tnad zlo fault wit it. The attachments are so'slmnple. I wish for no better than the Davis Vertical Feed. Respectfully. MMs R. MILLING. Fairfield county, April, 1883. M . loAU: I uougnt a Davis Vertical Feed wing Machine frdua you four years ago. I am 1i ghted with it. It never has given me any o. uble, audhas never been the least out of order. t Is asgbOd asf When'I first boughtit.. I- can cheerfully rdcommend it. Rtespectfully, Ma.',. At. J. KCIRKLAND. Monticello, Apa'a S0, 1883. This i to cartify that I nave been using a Davis t Vertic.l Feed Sewng Machlue for over tw sy irs, t purchased of Mr. J. 0. Hoag. I haven't found It passessed of any fault-all the attachnibits are so simple. It neverrefuses to worK, and is certainly the lightest running Iu the market. I coasider it a irdt-olass,maca ie. Yry re ctfully Oakland, airfeld codnty. 8. u. MNI HOAU: I a-n well pteaseti an every p.irticut Wilh the Davis Machine Dought of you. ItIlua a irat-clas macnine in every respect. You kno v you sold several uiachines of the same make to different members of our families, all of waom, as far as I know, are well pleased wita them. Mespectfully, Fairfield county, April, 18. t This la to cerrEty we nave na I In co.-anct use ] the Davi Macilue bouht of 1as ; g --, iv obr it sveral times over, we don't want any getter Machine. it is always ready to do any kind of work we nave to do. No puqkering or skipplug stitches. Wp can only say we are well pleased J atda wish no better machine, . CATasNE WYLIC AND SIssat. Aprit 25, 1883. e I have no fault to ind with my machine, and don't want any better. I have mAde the price of it severa times by taking In sewing. It Is always ready to do its-work. I think it a first-class t chine. I feel I cantisay too mcih for the DAVI-y Vertical Feed Machine. Mats. Tnot as Suitrrn. Fairfield county, April, 1883. MR. J. 0. HoAG-Iiear Sir: it gives me m'oi pleasure to testify to tile merits of the Davis Ver ticat Feed Sewing Machine. The machIne I got of you about ive years ago. has been almost in eon staut use ever since that time. I cannot see that at is wors ainy, and has not cost me one cent for reAAIN6 ir',- ha had it.. Am -well please-I and d'i Wisht (or 4y better. S. ' Yours truly, G4ranite Quarry, nxear Winnsboro 8. C. W~e have used the Davis Vertical Fuae I Sewing ] Machine for tule last live years. We woumld nut have any othier make at any price. VThe miaclimio ban given us unboundeu satisfaction.{ M.Very respectfully, Mu.W. K. TUaRNEa AN ~DAU~u~maa, Fairfield county, 8. 0., Jan. 21 uiavmng lboughit a Davis Vertical Feed levying Machine from Mr. J. 0. Beag some thtree years ago, andl it naving given meperfect Natisfcton in every respect as a snamily nine, bot zor' iea y and light sewing. anti never needed the least re pair i ainy way, 1 can eaneerfully recoiunmend it to any one as a irst-class inachine~ in 'every particu Jar, anai think It second to none. It is one of the ' siamplest muchines wad- my chtiladren use it with all ease. iThe att me~ tab~re easily; ad julsted andi it dueo a. graa' e of woric by mleats of at-a Verticaf' v ie th a pny othier pna .chine I have ever 4eun Oused Mats. TuoMAS OWviNOS. Winabro .Fair~edcuny 8. C We have had one ot the Davta Machilnes about four years a have Iways fou d it readyto do all kibde of tor de h had oco&on to dd. 'Can't see that the nabt ib worn an, and works as' well as when new. MAs. WV. J. CRAWFORD, .Jackson's Creelc. Failitld county, 8."C. My wife is highly pleased with the Davis Ma chine bougii o you. Sh9 would not take doubie What she ie flot it. TI~ amachile has, not of Lptou o nsin she h iti, antI she ohtn do Very enhectfulli - JAS.F. FRBE. Mont Ieello, Fairfld county, 8. C. rThe Davis Sewing Machine is simply a trae Uret Mats. J. A. GootiwYN. itidge way, N. C., Jan. 10, 1583. J1, O) Boa, Esq., Agent--Dear Sir: My wife has aaeen using a Davis Sewing Macline constant ly for the past four'years, anti it has never needed any repairs an I works just as well as when flrnt bocught. She says It wilt do a greateri range of lpractcal work eend do it easier andl bett.en than any machine she has ever used. We cheerfully recommend it as a No. 1falyahn, W 8nbao . C., Jan. 8, 1883. Mat. BoAch: I have always found my Davis Ma chine ready do pit )inds of to work I haave had oc nasion to (do. Is 'a at. gee .tilat -the nachlise is worn a particle anti it works as weal as when ne w. Winnisboro, 8. C., April,.1888, MR. BoAG: My wife 11as been constantly using the Davis Miachine bought of you about five years ago. I have never regretted buyig i$, as at is always ready for any kind of famil sewing, either evyor light. Itle never out of fx or needing isp ins.Very respetfully, FaIrfieldi. C., Mareh. 1888t LOOK UP. Look up1 . I'ttur your thoughts down All t-s tngs t gro, 7Ot-of the earth Reao upwar Itowa4dthe heavens, L~lnsthTt-VW"h '0fhevearsh As t iauking tliepord'for their birth. Lo6.up to the plnes in their beauty, .The oaks In their strqngth standing firin; They stretch their limbs upward and on wardI, Though shaken by many a stornm. dWblle the winds chanting solemnly through them, But speak this grand truth unto thee: Look up, for the life dwelling in you Will reach to eternity. Look up to the hills and be atr ngthened With thoughts pure and holy and strong; Iteach up and lay hold of the nountaina, They will sing you a nobler song. They will tell of the minghty endeavors Which men with their thinking have wrought; They will tell of the use and the beauty. The strength and the glory of thought. Look up to the stars in their brightnes, Don't turir back again to the clod; There are powers lying dormiant within bllro glthl yQu can lay hold of God. TUE WIFE'd BU1PtISIE. "The fact Is, my dear Mrs. Lynde, your children ought not to remain in ,his poisonous city atmosphere a day onger. They are too delicate, madam. F regard it as your imperative duty to ( 3end them out into the country." Dr. Carson shut up his gold eye glasses as he spoke, with the air of an I tutobrat whose slightest wishes are a aw. Little Carrie Lynde, nestling on < ier sofa, held tight to her mother's N iand, and regarded the doctor with v vide-open blue eyes. Mrs. Lynde sigh- v d Poftly. 'I doubt whether Mr. Lynde can b tfford the expense of sending his family e nto the country this year, doctor." "Afford it,Ima'amn! Afford it! Why I ill th'e world knows how fast your hus- ] )and Is making money; and-excuse me g dfrs. Lynde, but I am a plamn man--all endencies to a parsimonious life ouught r o be checked in the bud." Mrs. Lynde blushed an indignant t rimson. t "Dr. Carson, I do not like to hear s hat word applied to my husband. The doctor took his hat. "Tie powder at eleven, perfect quiet, U ,nd my little patient will do very well. u Lnd remember what I recommended 14 0 you about the country." h After the Doctor had taken his de arture, Mrs. Lynde sat thinking on n vhat he had said. a "Charles is a poor man," she mused; l a man who is dependent on his prac- a ice as a lawyer for his daily bread. I new it when I married him; nor have ever regretted leaving the luxury of ome. And as for my )hrles belag arsimonious, don't I know better?" a The rosy glow was still mantling 0 Irs. Lynde's cheeks at the bare idea, t ihen a cheery voice sounded on her ar. "Well, how is Carry to-night?" "Charles, is it you? How you start- b Bd me!"' He was a frank, noble looking man, vith clear, dark eyes, and a smile that >rightened his whole face. "Am I so very startling? What does lie doctor say?" S "He says the children must go into he country this summer with as little 14 telay as possible?" b Mr. Lynde slightly contracted his 0 >rows. "I am not sure that I can afford it. N! klce." A "That is what I thought myself; but, (J >hi, Charles, if their healthm-perhiaps heir life-depends upon it, ought we to I esitate?" t Mr. Lynde sat dlown, whistling quiet- r y under his breath. "No, I suppose not; but, Alice, it's a errible drain on a fellow's purse just ' Alice Lynde felt a cold chili at her ieart. WV as It possible that Dr. Car- t on's words had a foundation mn truth? t Was her husband becoming a pr y to ~he terrible dragon of avarice? Mr. L~ynde wvent on, "1 suppose I must try to flnd some ( rarmhouse or other where they won't t sharge the children's weight in gold. Alice, do you never sigh after the vel- t vety lawns and shady copses of Beech 1 hrove-the old stone house, with its f sool verandahs, and the summer arbor by the lake?" "No!" saidI Mrs. Lynde, stoutly. "Never, Alice?" "Well, sometimes I can't help think- < ing how nice it would be for the chil- I :Iren, I wonder if the old man who I Win$ it now has any children?" "A childless widower, I believe. But I all this has little to do with the ques tion of your summer exile. Of course you'll need no extra wardrobe to go to a farmhouse, where there are no fash- I tonable dames and demoiselles to criti cise your toilet?" " Camry ad Fucy have quite out-, grown their last summer's clothes, and) F~rank has nothing at all to wear. I suppose I might got long, although I 1 need a new traveling dress sadly." "Try to dispense with it at present;) that's a dear little economical puss.".1 "Charles," said Mrs. Lj'nde, speak ing suddenly from thme impul~ of jier heart, "Is not your business p'spetts just at present?" "P'rosperous? Yes." . - ."Tihen why do you perpetually urge upon me the necessity of ecn He colored a little. She thiough he appeared somewhat confused at ber ab rupt question. "There are a great many outlets for our money, Alice, of which you can scarcely form an adequate Idea. Eight o'clock, is It? Then I must be off. Good night, my love. i'll try to be at home before eleven." Mrs. Lynde was sitting by Carry's sofa at her sewing, the next day, when Miss P'riscilla Forbes was ushered In. "Good morning, my dear. How's Carry? Better eh?~ Well, I'm glad to hear It. Blethlah Lamb's little girl was taken with just the same symptons, and she didn't live three days. I'd advise you to be careful, though, Ali16o, l'here's always danger of a relapse By the way, where has your husband gone to-day? ' "Is lie not at his office?" "No. H1e went out on the Brigham Railroad this morning. I saw him go by as if his life depended on the haste lie was making; and thinks I to myself, I'll just keel) an eye on him and see where lie is going. So I followed as rast as I could trot, and was just in time to see him spring on board the train. What lie was going out of town for I didn't know; but, thinks I to my self again, Alice can tell ire all about it.', "Probably lie is looking for surumor board for the chiidren," said Mrs. Lvnde coldly. But she remembered with a pang that lier husband had said nothing to her About it. "Charles," she said, when he came iome todinner, "where were you going )ut of town to (lay?" "How did you know I was out of ;own?" lie asked a little abruptly. "Miss Priscilla Forbtes saw you start." "I wish Miss Priscilla Forbes would 3e so kind as to mind her own business." Alice was silent a minute, then she usked "Did you find a place for the child "No," was his brief reply. Alice inquired no farther. She felt iurt and resentful, and Charles paid no ittention to her ailence. If lie could mnly have witnessed the burst of pas ionate tears to which she gave way ven she was alone by the couch of her ittle onesi The farmhouse to which she and her hildren were banished for the summer vas not a particularly inviting spot; vell shaded, however, with a stream of vater running through the grounds, nd plenty of fresh milk and vegeta les. But Alice Lynde felt the lack of heerful and congenial society, the un arying monotony of the uneventful fe, and pined secretly, even while 'rank and Carry and little Lucy were rowing sunburnt and healthy. "I wish Charles could speid a little lore of his time here," she thought. It was scarcely to be wondered at liat she recurred sometimes, with a irill of yearning, to the old days when ie was an heiress, under the spreading nden trees of beautiful Beech Grove. 'or Charles Lynde's sake she had given p that beautiful home; had dared her ncle's threat-afterward carried re antlessly into effect-of disinherita-knce; ad submitted to all the trials and evils hich must necessarily surround a poor tan's wife; and now Charles left her Lone, to amuse herself as best she iight. So, while the children grew fat rid rosy, Alice grew thin and pale. "He will come to-night," she iought, one Saturday eve ra and tiit Ti favorite muslin dress with a long tur aoise pin in the blue ribbons that set I the transparent whiteness of her iroat. "Oh, it seons an age since I Lw him last!" But instead of her husband's pres ice, the up train from New York rought only a note, hurried and brief : "Dear Alice-I cannot come up to ight. Business is too pressing; love > the children. c. L." The note fell from Alice's fingers; a ickening sensation came over her heart. "And I had watched for him so anx msly. Oh, can it be possible that lie as ceased to love me? Me, who gave p everything for his sakel" On Monday a letter from Dr. Carson ;as brought to Mrs. Lynde; a letter en Losing another for her husband. The octor wvrote: "Please give this to Mr. Lynde. I ras at his oflce twice on Saturday af rnoon, trying to find him; but lhe wvas ot there, jand the clerk told me had one into thie country. Tell him lie's a rzy fellow to neglect his business so, ilhen that bustucs is muakmg lini rich o fast." Alice Lynide read the words three lines over before she fairly took in beh' whole meaning. "lie has deceived me," she thought. "It was not the convenient plea of usiness that kept him awvay from miel )h, Charles, Charles! and has it come o this?" She sat down, still clasping the let or in her hand, and gazed vacantly out l)pon thme sunny landscape that lay be ore her. "If it were niot for the children I vould go away and never look upon his ace any morel ie loves me no lonigor. [Ple affection I so blindly deemed my wn is transferred to some other object und wvhy should I care what becomes of uie? Only-the children!" And as the blue-eyed Carry ran up to ter to ask seine trifling question, Mrs. iynde drew the child close to her heart mnd burst into tears. "Mamma!" exclaimed the astonished ittl girl, "why do you cry? Are you ick, mamma?" "Sick! Yes, "sobbed poor Alice. 'I am sick of living. I am sick at eart, child." And the plentiful shower of tears uelped to relieve her overcharged heart. "I will endure it for the sake of these ittle ones. I will suffer on and try to e silent," thought p)oor Alice, press iung both hands over her aching heart. T1hie next week &I. ynde was to ~ome and'take 6lf1Ai home. Alice *ooked foritard to'e day with a sick mnticipatidhi-a shial expectation. ihe loniged for: ti ~~~(their meet nar1 shsnrvn tte of excitement he came to the. door, leading little [iucy, as the carriage wheels grated ver the stoniy country road and stop ped in front of the old-fashioned por Aico. .But Charles was not there, only thie driver, who touched his hat with an swkward attemplt at politeness, as he lescended from the box. ''If you please mna'am Mr. Lynde couldn't come; but he'll be there to ineet you!" More neglect! Alice answered iiot a word, but the hands with which she Lied the ribbons of Lucy's hat trembled sorely, .and her lip would quiver, in s. pte othe reolute little white teeth Tao little 01nes langhed and chatted In the carriage as it rolled along, exclaim ing loudly at the various objects on the road; but Alice leaned back in the cor ner, pale and silent, seeing nothing but the fantastic visions of her own fevered mind. Once or twice the idea crossed her brain that the journey was rather longer than she expected; but shte did not reason at all on the subject, relap sing at one into her painful reflections. "Mammal Oh, mammal What a pret ty place!" chorused the three children at once. "There's a tall white statue back of those trees, and a fountain all sparkling like diamonds- and oh, mam. ma, such beds of beautiful flowers!: Alice, roused from her thoughts for the instant, leaned forward and gazed out of the winlow. Surely there was somethijig faminlar-in those green ter races with their t ights of marble steps: in the Doric eolumns of the majestic stone piazza, before which the carriage suddenly oame to a halt. "Am I dreaming," she thought, look ing vaguely around her, "or is this really Beech Grove?" She went up the steps, feelig as if she were moving through the uncertain fantasies of a dream. But in the vesti bule stood reality itself, in the shape of her husband, with ia face of bright, en raptured happiness. "My dearest wifel" lie murnitired, folding her tenderly in his arms, "the time has come for me to restore to you what you gave up so cheerfully for my sake years Pgo. Welcome once again to your home, Alicel" "Home!" she repeated, gazing up into his eyes as if she scarcely credited the evidence of her own senses. "Yes, home. I have purchased Beech Groye, Alice, and furnished it just to suit your taste. My cherished little wife, I am rewarded now for the years of economy the extra work, the self denial which I have been obliged to practice." "Charles," she whispeled, growing scarlet and pale alternately, "was it this that kept you away from me, that occasioned your absence last week?'' "I was determined to bring you here, Alice, when I took you away from that farmhouse. There have been countless delays, innumerable difficulties; but I have conquered them all. Welcome to your home, my precious wifel" As he tooK her once more to his heart Alice's happiness was mingled with the keenest pang of remorse she had ever known. Sitting in the handsome, famiiar room that evening, with the moonlight streaming through the stained glass windows, her children asleep up-stairs in the nursery that had once been hers, and Charles besido hel, Alice vowed to herself the best resolution a. wife call make-never agami to let the leat shadow come stween herself and her The Liok Teisoope it appears, writes a correspondent, that the project of building great tele scopes is easier in the conception thllan in tile final execution. Twelve moinths ago I visited Mr. Alvin Clark's optical works at Cambridgeport, Mass., and saw the great Streuve object glass placed for the first tine within its colossal tube and pointed towards a celestial object, and after the Clarks I was the first to test its powers. It was still uncorrected, but worked to a marvel, considering that the Illost delicate and artistic touches had still to be added. Yet it must be confessed that aln astronomical telescope directed at a fixed star is one of the most diap pointing thiligs to look through, and even with the biggest telescope objective which ever left tile hands of the optican, there was no exception to this rule. With all its powers, this wonder and masterpiece or the Clarks was unlable to resolve the disc of the far-off star, and ini this respect it was on a level with a little dollar instrument, a mere play thing i the hands of a chiil. Its wonderful light-gathering properties however, were startling, amid the feeble rays of the star were increased to a blaze of light. It has since been de livered to jProfessor Streuve, and in his| hands and under his able muanagome lit, fine wvork may be expected from this nioble iinstrumlent. But on a table In thme wvorkshop was placed the great telescope objective, three feet in diameter, mnade for the Lick observatory in California, which ini size wvouldl dwarf the king or tele scopes, ready to start for Russia. It may not be known to all that acromatic object glasses are made of two distinct lenses, one made of flint glass the othler of crown glass, the two combined making the perfect lens. In this inlstance the flint glass lens was onily present, its companion being daily expected from France. A few days ago I wrote to Mr. Clark asking what progress lie had made with the Lick objective, hoping, as the preparations ini California were so advanced, that thle lens was nlearly fiihed. T1he public will probably be surprised to hear that the first chip of thme glass has still to be made, and that the lens I saw last year iln its crude state still remains iln the same conidition. It appears that the crown glass disc has not yet arrived, and Mr. Clark dare not attempt the labor of polishing the immense flint portion until lhe Is assured that tile comp~anion is forth coming. Wheni it will De ready, if ever appears to be a problem to be solved only by time. There is no doubt about the ability of the Clarks to grind and polish tue objective if the material ever reaches their hands; but the difficulty in obtain ing a solid disc of crown glass three feet in diameter, perfect in all~ respects, can hardly bs appreciated. E~ven the 8trouve glass, which was smaller, had a bad flaw in it righlt in the centre. Mr. Clark offered to order amfother dise, but Mr. Streuve. fearing the long delay, accepted the lens in that state. It will thus be seen that, however forward the observatory may be, a long time may elapse before the great 80 inch Lick telescope will be in position interpreting the mysteries of the heavens. --London has a company which inlsures against bycycle and tricycle accidents. Poisoned by Paint. While the screams of applause were rising higher and higher at the conquest of Light over Darkness in "Excelsior , an evening or two ago, Miss Mam'ie Nichols was behind the scenes writhing iln the agonies of blood-poisoning. She was only a pretty coryphee, and the clangor of the ambulance gong which announced the arrival of aid disturbed not the serenity of the cold amusement seeking audience. "Oh, don't take me home! don't take me home!" piteously walled the poor girl, and in respect to her wishes she was removed to St. Vincent's hospital where she was yesterday found to be so' far recovered that in a few days she will once nore be upon the stage. "I was called twice to attend this young lady," said the physician at the hospital, "and she was inally brought here ini a carriage, for some unknown reason the theatre managers refusing to allow her to be taken away by the anbulance. After an examinatiyn I discovered that she was suffering fmoin lead poisoning, caused by the use of paint in 'making up' her face. There is from four to six per cent. of lead in the face paint inl use On tihe stage, and Miss Nichols absorbed it into her system through the pores of her skin. She might have used it for years and not have suffered serious consequences had she not been put to such excessive exercise as was reqaired of her in the part she took." Miss Nichols is a handsome young lady of eighteen years. She has round features and figure, raven hair, large blue eyes and rather a coquettish and bewitcling manner. "Why was it that you did not want to go iome, Miss Nicholsi'" asked the reporter. "iBecause it is the unhappiest place I could have beei takei to. My lather is rich. My mother died whent I was very young and papa-' Th6 young lady could speak no more for the sobs that choked her, anmd cover ing her face with her hands she wept away her grief. When she ha:i recover ed Miss Nichols said that her father had married the second time. Miss Nichols' beauty and grace won for her a prominent place among the huidred and more fir women who with her made up the ballot, and oi numer Os occasions she was the recipient of bouquets sent through the stage entrance by some of New York's best sols. "'Can we see Miss Nichols." iniuired one of a bevy of richly-attired and stylish young ladies who allighted at the hospital yesterday from two elegant ly equipped fatmily carriages. Overhearing the inquiry at the door Miss Nichols recognized tho voice as I ha1t of 11nA "r .. . -], - r against receiving them. ".Oh, how can I bear this mortilica tion?" she pleaded; "I thought my asslued nallne would shield in from recognition." Wien the fair visitors were admitted to Miss Nichols' presence the scene was affecting beyond description. The ex hausted and tear-staied little patient threw herself upon her visitors and for mioments there were passionate sobs and tears. Until torn away by the ward physi cians the young ladies clung around Miss Nichols, and each one begged her to give up her life on the stage, but she steadfastly declined. She felt that she had talent for the stage, and she said she had taken to the ballet as the only means of making a beginning. It was further learned fromi a friend of Miss Nichols that she wvas at Vassar College for twvo years and would hav'e gradiuated with honor had lher home not beena brokeni upi. Brave K~ato sheily, When the Committe of the Ohio Leg islature will formally p~resenxt to Miss Kate Shxelly the medal voted her by that body in recognition of her bravery the town of Boone, Iowa, will indulge In a celebrationi, which, it is expected, wvill eclipse any public diemonstrationi ever held in tham ' egion. There will be a procession, mualc, speeches, and a banquet, and many distinguished people from abroad will be present. So worth ily bestowed is the Legislature's medal for heroism that no onxe there will fal to do everything in lisa power to make the demonstration a success. Kate Shelly is now a comely girl of eighteen, but she achieved her present fame by an act of the greatest bravery when she was but sixteen. At about dark on the 7th of July, 1881, a storm of wind and rain of un paralleled severity broke over thatre glon. In an hour's time every oreek was out of its banks, and the Des MoInes river had risen six feet. 8o sudden was the flood and such was the velocity of the wind, that houses, barns, lumber and all portable objects within reach of the waters were carried away. Looking from her window, which in daylight commanded a view of the Honey creek railroad bridge, Kate Shelly saw through the darkness and storm a locomotive headlight. A second later it dropped, and though the crash which it must have made was not per ceptible above the roar of the wind, she knew that the bridge -had gone, and that a train of cars had fallen into the abyss. There was no one at home but her mother and little brother and sister, and the girl understood that if help was to be given to the sufferers, and the eb press train, then nearly due, warined, she would have to undertake tlre task alone. Hastily filling and lighting an old lantern, and wrapping herself in a water proof, she sallied out in the storm. She first made an effort to reach the water's edge, but finding that the flood was already for above all the p~aths and roadways, and realizing that she could do nothing in or near that mad torrent, she climbed painfully up the steep bluff to the track, tearing her clothing into rags on the thick undergrowth and lacerating the flesh most painfully. A part of the bridge still remained, and crawling out on this to the last tie, she swung her lantern over the abyss and called out at the top of her voice. It was pitchy dark -below, but she was answered faintly by the engineer, wh had crawled up on some of the broke timbers, and, though, injured, was sal for the time being. From him the gi learned that it was a freight train thi had gone into the chasm, and that 1 alone of the train hands had escape( le urged her, however, to proceed a once to the nearest station to secur help for him and to warn the aj proaching express train of the fall the bridge. The girl then retraced her step. gained the track and made her wa with all the speed that the gale woul pormit, toward Moingona, a small st tion about one mile from Honey creeh In making this perilous journey, it wa necessary for her to cross the hig trestle bridge over the Des Moine river, about 500 feet in length. Just a she tremiblingly put her foot on thl structure, the wind, rain, thunder an< lightning were so appalling that sh nearly lost her balance, and, in the en deavor to save herself, her sole com panion, the old lantern, went out. Shi had no matches, but if she had ha< thousands of them they wonld hav been of no service in such a place amu in such a storm. Deprived of her ligh she could not see a foot ahead sav when the dazzling flashes of lightninj rovealed the grim outlines of the bridgi and the seething waters beneath Knowing that she had no time to lose the brave girl threw away the useles lamp, and, dropping on her hands anm knees, crawled from tio to tie across thi high trestle. Having gained tbe groun( again, she ran the short distance re maining to the station, and told hei story in breathless haste, and fell un, conscious at the feet of the gaping rustics, who, in their eagerness to know her adventures, forgot the terror and suspense. which she had endured. Men were then sent to the rescue oJ the engineer, and telegrams were flyink up and down the line notifying official. and others of the loss of the bridge The express train came thundering ii and was stopped, and the passengers learning the story of the child hero looked, a few at a time, upon her wai face and ragged clothes. The pursi that was m ide up for her was of a very substantial kind. When the story of her behavioi spread throughont the State, several funds for her benellt were started, and, so far as money can pay for such devo tion, she has been well rewarded foi her night's Work. At the session of the Legislature of last winter it was or dered that a medal commemorative of the girl's bravery be struck, and a com. mittee.was appointed to present it te her. Her heroism was made the them( of many eloquent speeches. L enM=n o U way ui International exhibitions recently held was that of potatoes, in London. There is an association of gentlemen formed to encourage improvement of potato culture, under whose auspices the ex ibition: wias held. Many of the prizeh were open only to "noblemen's and gentlemen's gardeners ;" other prizes were limited to potatoes "not in com merce," and the exibition kppears UA have been more for the bonelUt of fancy farmers than for the good of the gene ral public. The potato serves, as well as hyacinths, grapes or roses, to amusf employers of professional gardeners, and that appears to be the main pur pose of the competition excited by thu annual display. One enthusiastic gen tlemnan was not satisfled with the pro gress thus far attained, but expressed the hope and belief that tile memberf would some (lay be able to place On the table "a potato worthy of the age ii which we live." Another took occa to give some good advice to cooks, ox pressed in extravagant terms, it is tru but nevertheless sound in principle IIe said that It was the usual practic to bring thme cooked potatoes to th4 table in a porcelain dish with a close fitted cover. "[In ten minutes the bes1 p~otatoes however carefully cooked, ar thus utterly destroyed." 1[e recomn mended that they should be placed in a wooden dish or served iln a porcelah dish, with towels above and below t< absorb the moisture. Potato-maniace have their place, like bibllo-mnanlacs should succeed in accomplish ing thel1 purpose of getting potatoes "worthy o the age in which we live." M1artinx [Lthor's Taunka:r~. Just now, whatever is assoc ated witl umemnories of tihe " grcat iteformier" seem "specially in season," evenm those concern lng his simple home life and humble suir rondi(ng~s, whlethier of books, papers oi cup; all wore in marked sense "hi friends," if ".mnistering,' or ''being mIn istered unto,'' meannus anything 1in thIs 1bl4 of ours.' Notable amuong these relics of the past Is a small bit of proper'ty, once "a fai. iar belonging" in mhei household of Marthm Luther and that wise littie woman Uathas rine, whom the hnaband characterIzes a "his grac'ious housewife.'' Tils wondetrful clip. whose ago is tel< in centuries, "us or ivory, richly carveu and moiuntedi in silver gill. Upon its sur face are six medallions, upon all or whief are traiced memorials of our Siiuir's life The upper one represents the agony ini th gardien arid the lSaviour oraying that th cup ighu pas.s from hilm. Upon tb base One sees a rep~resentaiIon of the Lord Sipper, a dish bangi. the incarnatipon c the bread." Upon tie lid, in old chat'ac tern, is Ihe following inscoription: "O, M L., MDXX(hIt.'' Thius tankard, now mn possession otfaLrd Londesboiough, was once in the collectioe of Ei kington ot Birmingham. -The Louvre has recenitly acquire from Egypt some fragments of a pap3 rus treatinig of Roman law. Thiey coi slst of portions of the Responsa Papin ani, with notes by Paul and Ulpiar Th'ie text isi printed in the last numbe of the Revue de Droit Fr-ancaie. -Baltimore hlaving more 'than $20, 000,000 invested in oyster packing an over 80,000 persons engaged in the bus ness, is taking measures to prevent' th destruction of the oyster beds in tI1 Chesapeake Bay. It is proposed thu the period of rest for oysters shall l> lengthened and extend from Ap~ril 1 i October 1L o Eplosts of a Russian rincea. - e In the Paris papers, reference is made rl Ito the reappeakune4 in society of the Lt Russian, Princess Sonwarog: This e andsome Russian lady was, during 1. many seasons, the reigning star at Nice t and Monaco, and yvas not tle less re. markable on account of her frpquentat tempts to break the bank. She has not f been seen at either of these places or in Paris since 1878. She lived so fast here , and gambled-so heavily at Monte Carlo y that the late Czar forbade her to leave I tie empire until she repaired her for tunes. Whether she has done so or not is more than one can tell, but she is cer a tainly back in Paris, where she has l already rented a maguficaut . kouse, in s which she -avn ,she js going to have a some fun before the winter is over. s The Princess, whose maiden name was B Basilewska, was enormously wealthy when she married the Prince Souwaroff whose fortune was very moderate. . After a few years of matrimony they agreed to disagree, and an amicable I separation 1ok. place. The Prince 3 devoted himself to traveling and the i Princess went to Monaco in search a of excitement. She played with large 3 stakes, and her boldness, her cold ness and her alternate heavy losses and 3 winnings were the sensation at Monte Carlo. Every evening when the gambl ing rooms closed she enfertained a large a party of guests at supper in her villa on the Promenade -des Anglits. Some a rather racy anecdotes are related about her, and her many decidedly eccentric acsociates gave her a somewhat scan dalous reputation. One of these tales is that, after one of the suppers the Princess taking off one of her slippers, threw it across the room whereupon an actress of the Palace Royal Theatre, who was among her guests, picked it up filled it with champagne wine and emptied it at a draught to the health of the hostess. This so pleased the Princess that she exclaimed, as she embraced the actress: "To-morrow, my dear, you shall have a villa of your own, next door to mine.'' This promise was kept, and the actress has now the slipper under a g!ass case. A very stylish young man, who had got cleaned out at a treinte-et-quarnte at Monaco, amused himself one evening by making game 'or the rich Russian lady, who, being pleased with his appearance, accepted his services, although he was a stranger. That day she was a heavy winner, and when she left the table offered this gentleman a thousand-franc note in so delicate a manner that refusal was im possible. The next day the same trans action was repeated and again, and again during a whole week. Then luck turned against the Princess, and the stran~ge gentleiman ig~cJ1--" with interest. This gave rise to a sort of part nership, and at the end of the sea son her cavaliere servante left Monaco with a clear proit of ten thousand dollars. T1,4 Lrch of Titus Reprodiued. There has just been completed at Tilton, New Hampshire, a unique con tribution to American architecture. Without a word of outside announce ment there has been duplicated in that town during the past eighteen months the Arch of Titus, of Rome. This great memorial has been presented to the town by Charles N. Tilton. When in Rome, in 1881, Mr. Tlhton conceived the idea of ornamenting its native town with a monument which should sym bolize the victories of peace rather than those of wvar, and the Arch of Titus seeming to him the embodiment of the ideas which he wished to be expressed he resolved on erecting a similar struc ture on tne site of the old Indian fort in Tilton, Theim arch is entirely of Concord granitE, and resta upon a foundatien 40 by 70 feet by 7 feet in depth, construct Sed of stone and cement, making one 3 solid block. Upon this rises a platform of hewn granite, approached on all .i es by flye courses of steps of the isame material. From this table rise two columns upon which rests the arch, 3 reaching a perpendicular elevation over all of 5,5 feet. The arch itself describes r a semi-circle, the keystone being at the ! height of 30 feet from the platform beneatha. The interior length of the san is 15 feet, making an entite diam eter of 40 feet. The piers rise from two ipiinths, composed of four stones each, forming a base for each pier 12 by 14 feet. The circle is set inside the col umns, while the outside keeps its per pendicular. Nearly 20 feet of elabor ately cut granite lie above the arch of -the circle, with belts, entablatures and projections. Each block of stone com prising each layer Is locked together at the upper surface by substantial dowel edl iron bands. Eight hewn stonos, aweighing 130,000 pounds, make the -roof, their joints being leaded and a cop pered, no expense being spared tend ing to make the structure perpetual. The I keystone is flve feet in length by twelve I in depth. Tihe best artists in the land brought to Its surface a polish assmooth as plate glass. Each end of the key stone bears in raised letters the inscrip s tion : "Memorial arch of Tilton, 1882." 0 The keystone encloses a lead box con 's taining gold and silver coins, a histor e of Sanborntown, a volume entitle f "Successful Men of New Hampshire," - a newspaper printed at Concord in 170'0, -State weekly papers and a copy of each of the Bioston daily papers. The loca Ication of thuis arch is upon a bluff or mound shaped hill,a trifloover one hund red and fifty feet above the water level Sof the beautiful Winnipiseogee river, which flows at its feet through a ravine towvard the south, and upon which at .,either side rests the beautiful village. rLfme water, with a stmall quantity of acetic acid,. is sat I to spake a good nk eraser. 1 -The oldest school teacher in New I- Hlayen Is Sarah Wilsop, a negress, 77 e years old, who' has Wen teachling for eo sixty years. 11er father was born a at slave in New Haven, but bought his e freedom. Mrs. Wilson has a good edlu e cation, and teaches a private school of very young children