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