The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, April 24, 1888, Image 1
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TIRI-WEEKLY EITJON. /.W1NNSBORO. S.i;., APRIL i 4, 1888.ESAJIHD14
Another Way.
i i
Al, come to ne in dreams, and then,
One saith,, I shall be well again,
For; then the night will more than pay
The' weary longing of th& day.
Nay, come not in those dreams, my sweet, t
With shadowy robes, and silent feet,
And with thue voice, and with the eyes
'That gretit me In a soft surprise. t
Last night., last night, in dreams we met,
And how, to-day, shall I forget,
Or how, remombering, restrain
Mine incotnmunicable pain?
Nay, where thy folk and country are,
Dwell thou, remote, apart, afar,
Nor mingle with the shapes that sweep
The melancholy ways of sleep.
But if, perchance, the shadows break,
If dreams depart, and mnen awake,
I f face to face at length we see,
Be thou the first to welcome me.
C
A GIRL'S SUCCESS.
"It is high time you were thinking t
of marriage, Jessamine,' said rich
John Wilmot, at the tea-table, one
evening.
And his daughter crossed her kiiife g
and fork at exact angles, and waited
curiously. Something unusual was al- I
ways forthcoming when her father call
ed her Jessaline, in that grave pomp- -
ous way.
"I said that it was time that you t
were .thinking of marriage," he re
peated, slowly, with his eyes fixed upon
her face and his finger pointed impre-'
sively at her.
"Now, John-'? began his wife. with
a helpless, bewildered look at father
and daughter-such a one as she al
. ways gave in case of a well-bred dispute
between the two (she was a family non
entity).
"I wish to manage this affair myself, u
if you please, Mrs. Wilmot," frowned
her husband. "Did you hear me, Jes- b
samine?" 1
"Yes, sir," Jessie answered, deibure- t
ly, with downcast lids, that hid a defl- r
ant gleam in her eyes. t
"Give me an answer, then-some
thing. What do you think about it?"
l{Iaid Jhin Wilmo.t, impatiently, and, if .
lie would have confessed it, somewhat a
nervously.
For even lie could not fail to see that a
this "chip of the old block"?possessed a l
large amouit of her father's determina- a
tion.
"I don't know as-as it makes any c
difference how much I may think about
it," faltered Jessie. "Ladies seldotn d
mat ry until they are asked. Unfortun
ately leap year has gone by, or I-"
"W ill you be quick, miss?" shouted
the father. "Leap year, indeed! Iguess t
my daughter won't beg for a husband!"
"I should say not!" breathed Jessie.
"Will you be quiet?" thundered John
Wilmot, "I have something very im- t
portant to tell you. I had four calls
to-day from very e'igible men, asking
permiesion to address you upon the sub
ject of matrimony-yes, five, I might
Eaty, although the fifth would count
only in aauda-city."
'"Well?"
Trhero was a slight sarcasm ini her C
even tone, and a slight color upon h:er
cheek.
"Yes, it is well-so I told them all.
Blut I added that yott must decide be
tweenm them. I could not choose for C
you in such an important matter."
And hd leaned back ini his chair, ihe
picture of magnanimity. C
"T1hat was kind of you, pap)a," smnil- I
ed Jessie. "Well, who was the first to
honor m?
"The first?-aheml" lie began, with I
a keen side glance. "The first was the ~
president of the bank-Hon. James
B3enson, who-"
"T1hlat old man! Fifty years, if lie Is
a (lay," cried Jessie. No; 1 t'hank you.
Who next?"
"But he is worth a million if lhe Is a
cent and his wife can lead the fasha
ions," urged the father.
"Let her! I won't make' a, fashion
plate of myself with his money," pout
ed Jessie. "Who next?"
John Wilmot looked angrily at her.
"Senator Johnson's son, who-"
"That red-headed, insignficant -
dude, there!" screamed- the young lady,
in a very undIgnifled way. "Well, I
- declare! Who next?,
"You are very hard to suit,. miss,"
said he~ father, sharply.' "What do0
you sa oLord Biaronsly from Eng
land, then?" .
"I say that lie Is a conceitea popinjay,.
and no more an English nobleman than
you or I," flashed Jessie, scornfully.
"Is lie the best you have to offer me?"
"AhemP' and lie eyed her with ris
ing displeasure. "There is neighbor
Wilson's son, a likely fellow, wvith a
good prospect before him. In all but
wealth, I rather prefer him to tihe
others."
"Did he-did ITeon Wilson ask npe..
nission to win me for a wife?'' she'de
nanded, quickly.
"Well-no-not exactly," he answer
d, hesitatingly. "-is father visited
no, and we-"
"Thought it might be a good thing
o unite the families, I suppose," inter
upted Jessie. "I thought that was
he way of it. Leon has been a btother
o me so long a time thatwe shall never
hink of any closer relationship. 1jut
ou spoke of a fifth one. Who was
hat?''
"That? Oh, that young Lee, you
f ten see go by with a tin dinner-pail in
ne hand.''
And John Wilmot looked the disgust
vhich he could not speak.
'"What did you answer him?"
Jessie's voice was ominously calmi,
ike the hush before a tdiniest.
"I let Sam answer him with the too
f his boot. I had no words to waste
n such-such a person, and Sam kick
d him out."
And by John Wilmots face one would
ave thought him the injured party.
"Kicked him outi" repeated Jessie,
udignantly, as she arose and stood be
ore her father with flushed .cheeks and
ef1l it eyes. "Isn't 'such a person'
vorthy of *consideration, papa? Isn't
larold Lee honest and manly?"
"1 suppose so, but-Bless my soul,
essaminel I believe you have a fool
sh liking for the follow. If I really
bought so, I'd--" and John Wilmot
asped for breath.
"I will never marry without your
onsent, papa," said Jessie with danger
us sweetness. "But you know you
List said that I must decide such an
nportant affair myself. I surely do
Ike Harold Lee, and I'surely shall not
oarry until I marry him' .
"Go' to your room, nlissI" shouted
olin Wilmot. "You can stay there
ntil you come to your senses."
"Thank you, papa. You will think
otter of - this, and keep your word, I
now," answered Jessie, as she-moved
oward. the door.." "I *ill go to my
:om, but 1 will not promise to stay
lere."
And she did not stay there.
Mhe nuved restlessly DaO1antid-Tc'li
icking a few valued trinkets into' a
nail leather traveling bag, together
rith one or two of her plainest dresses,
Lothed herself in a close-fitting. riding
abit, and then waited until darkness
nd silence fell over. the earth.
Then she stole out into the night,
aressed the house-dog a moment, roll
i the stable-door noiselessly back, sad
led her own pony with nervous haste,
iounted and rode down the village
breet, along the bank of the noisy
tream, and "into the mountain road
hat led' to the popular summer resort
wenty miles away.
She did not clearly know what she
atended to (10, save that she intended
o frighten her father into acquiesc
nece.
In Reading she had an aunt whom
he but dimly remembered, but who
lie felt sure would aid her in her
,heme.
Jessie patted the poney's neck en
ouragmngly, as they entered the dark
vods andi( hummed a tune to quiet her
wn fear.
Ilow dark this mountain forest was!
und how still I only the weird, long cry
f some night-bird, and the beats of her
ony's feet, broke the stillness.
She could alniost hear her own starti
d heart throbs, but she would not turn
ack.
Four miles were speedily covered.
lhe wasi now half way to the top of the
mountain, b)ut the other half was steep
nd tiresonie.
On thme other side the descent was
moothuer and more gradual. She was
ecoming used to the strange ride, and
ather enj'oyed her' freedom.
But hark! Away downu the monn
ain, from the thickets she had just
>assed, came a dismal sound-a long
rawn signal-the eager howl of the
inngry timber wolf when it has scent
d prey!.
The pony heard it and leaped convul
uvely forward, while Jessie shrieked
loud.
Seine .one else heard it, too, and the
ry for help. Harold Loe, Indignant
nd enraged, had resolved to shake the
lust of Blingham from his feet, and try
ils fortunes elsewhere.
His employer wished to Bend a new
oad-sprinkle to Reading, and the tenm
lollars eardied by driving it there was as
cceptable to Harold as any other hon.
stly-earned money.
is horses wore wearily climbing the
teep mountain side when the howl of
lie timber wolf anyd Jessie's startled
ry reached him.
The next Instant lie hieard the clatter
>f feet as tihe frightened .pony dashed
oward him.
Controlling his own horses by a
nighty effort, he loaned forward as
lie pony swept mally by, seized Jessie
flimly a id drew her to the seat: beside
him.
Even as he did so,-the eager cry of
the wolf was,answered and reanswered
by the comrades which lie had called to
his horrid banquet.
"What can we do?" moaned Jessie.
'We can die together, dearest," an
swered Harold, as he audaciously kiss'
ed the willing lips of Joh Wiimots
daughter. A
On came the gathering pack nearer 1
and nearer, more eager and more sure.
The top, of the mountain was reach- 1
ed, and the horses sprang madly down
the descent, passing the poor pony,
which uttered a squeal of fresh terror
as they dashed by.
'Pooi' Gyp," breathed Jessie, with a
shudder, as the animal's cry became an
almost human'soniid, an'd mingled with
the savage howls ,and eager yelps,
which told that it was overtaken.
"Tha will give up a-longer ticie,"
said HarMd, grimly.
But one small pony' is a slight meal
for a pack of hungry wolves, and they
were soon in eager pursuit again, -eav
ing a few scattered bloody bones to tell
the fate of the gallant pony.
Nearer and nearer they came, their t
cruel eyes 'glistening, their jowls drip
ping blood.
The horses sprang fgward with out
stretched necks and paitig sides and
the sprinkler rocked .uneasily.
Harold turned the crank, and sent a
fine spray into the eyes of the astonish
ed wolves.
They fell.back with a howl of , dis
may, and many' secohds of valuable
time wore saved. t
They soon dashed ahead with fresh
courage, avoiding the water, but ei-.
deavofing to reach the horses.
"It is all over wJth us," groaned
Harold, as the near horse gave a cry of
human agony. "They have got the
horseo it last! Quick-the ti apl It is
the onl chance!"
The Jooies',no longer needed.a driver,
and throwing the reins 'aside, lie open
ed the, trap door in the top of 'the
sprinkle0, lod*ered Jessie into the water
fgJlwed h er nuiokl._-.andJathAdr.
UI but no ta second too soon-for the
door, as it fell, caught the paw' of one
great brute, and othrs leaped to the
ground with elps of bafllpd rage.
The frightened squeals of*theillorsos
died' away in dying nioans. Harold
and Jessie crouched in the water, and
listened to the wolves as they crunched
the bones and fought fcr the last rein
nants of the feast..
Then came a long weary time of
waiting and suspense, until, when Har
old cautiously raised the trap, he was
greeted by the welcome sunlight, and
the wolv had vanished with tho night
shadows.
They clambered to the seat and bask
ed in the warming sunbeams. And
there an anxious party found them, a
few moments later-a party headed by
none other than John Wilmot himself,
which had started fearfully for the
scene of the wolf concert, and fo,tfhd
Jessie's traveling--ag among the bloody
remains of her pony.
"Thought you'd elope, did you?"
asked John 'Wilmot,- sternly' although
lie longed to clasp his dau hter. in his
arms. "Well, stand up! 4rson Brown
is h'ere with us~, and you iBy as well be
married now as any time. 'Stand up!"
"But, father-" began Jessie, blush
ingly...
"Stand up, I sayl" roared .ohn Wilt
mnot.
And so it happened that Jedie eloped
when she did not intend tol andh, al
though an heiress, wvas married in a
dripping riding-habit; but there is no
happier wife in the band to-day.
Thought it an ironclad Rale.
There is al'good story .teld, howing
the matter-of-fact character' of the
average Englishman, which is prba
bly new here, lie was take a
young lady, while visiting Chi4f~~
see the really fine machinery at
Water Works in that city. E'geryb6d
who has seen these wvorks hias also
doubtless observed right opposite 4thie
door of entrance a large box of sawdust
having above it the notification on n
board: "'Visitors are requested to use
.tihe spittoon." Our English friend en
tered the building, and seeing the pla
card, shrugged huis shoulders noncha
lantly, walked up - to the sawdust box
and expectorated, iIe' was astonished
to hear a shriek of dismay behind him,
and turning spwv the young lady disap- ~
pearing through the entrance. He-I
hastily followed and began to make ext.
cuses for some supposed mistake.
"'What did you dQ that for?" said the
lady. "Do what? 'indeed, I am un
aware of any faux p'as." ' "What did
you dlo that mn the box for?" "Oh,
waus I wrong? I read the notice, and
though I thought it strange, I supipos-.
ed it was a custom of the country, and
I endeavoedn to adant myse to it.
A OTfIJ MAMMOTH OAV1.
MIaJ ia oiains to Iiival' ti> eroat
Great iteiest preauis ov'er the dis
eovery of wliat promises to be in won
er I second Kentucky Mammoth Oiave,
ound .on; a; farin dne mile rtl of
[iu villt- rciitly hought. by ^1t. M.
ulrei, "wtinioved hre a few weeks
0o froni Greetville, Mich. it .has
an believed for some 3 ears that there
as a cave there, but nothing was
hown of its character or extent.
herefore, Mr. Fuller in company withi
was other gentleinen made. elaborate
reparations and 'explored it. At the
3&trance it was found Co be fully fifty
oet from the surface to the main floor
)t the cave, whi'ch ran almost perpen
iculat with a couple of bench-liko pro
actions of rock, extending out about
Iye feet. Upon theso, by turns, a
1*ort ladder 'rested until they reached
ge main entrance, vhen, lanterns were
tt, and the party started upon an un
nown journey of doubtful proflt or
leasure. In a few minutes the ex
flrers discovered that they were in a
,emendous cave, and in order to make
i-e of a safe return they posted lights
wery 200 yards along the route travel
3. They, report a most wonderful dis
'very, and estimate the main room to
0 about 250 or 800 acres in area, hav
g no supports above but a solid rock
ich 9ne-half mile in length and thirty
eet In thickness., The side walls and
verhead are Lovered with the most
eautiful crystals, which glistened in
he lantern light, and in many places
all pyramids of stalagmites and stal
atles were found equal to any ever
efore seen.
After going three or four hours
races of water were found, and, going
o the right a quarter of a mile, they
ound a magnificent lake of pure, fresh,
unnimg water,.clear,as crystal and full
)f silver fish without eyes,. but, having
1o tackle, they could only gaze in won
er. The lake at the point first seen
:ould not be estimated in width, be
ause the lantern would not throw the
i4bt a sufl ant distance to -readh the
allicu vnere-tnrowir
)y sever t pia'rty with full force,
which fAled:to Aih it and fell with a
1plash hito the water, which from the
ound id icated it depth of thirty or
orty feet. From estimates made it Is
)elleved the water is from eighty to 100
'et below the earth's setface. After
ollowing up the stream for some dis
ance an opening was found indicating
mother room, which could not. be
eached on account of the high water
ai the lake, though the indications are
lat it is fully as large as the one ex
lored. Having been in the cave five
lours and it was growing late, the
)arty returned to the ..en'ranco. Mr.
ller has christened the cave Shelta
dick, in honor of one of his daughters,
nd will place within the opve an elec
rio light, and otherwise make improve
nents- li and around the cave, so as to
ender it a pleasant and interesting re
ort to.ylsitors.
A Green Dinner.
A society girl, of that exquisite
jonde fairness of pomplexion to which
een is the most becoming color, gave
green dinner the other night that was
picture in its way. TIho dining-room
as a bower of palms and tree ferns.
cross the entire length of the white
ble-clbth was ]aid a broad strip of
Sen China crepe, each edge being
1ckly fringed with maiden-hair ferns.
ie centre of the table was a bed of
e ns and delicate, lacelike lycopodium,
rl from each corner of thle square plat
f green rose tall slim vases of green
~i 5s, holding above the heads of tile
lasts one long green stem crowvned
VIh a cluster of lilies. Among the net
ae ns and grasses wvere burled haif a
I en 'tiny fairy lamps of 'the, palest"
ben, giving a light like that of fire
5s.
phe table was lighted from above by
great ground-glass globe,covered with
ce-green orape and lace. At each
ste 'lay a bunch of valley lilies amid
giden-hair ferns and tied with green
bonis. The soup was a puree of as
agus served In green china, and
prything 'throughout the dinner was
'en when It was possible to have It so,
bentire china service being green,
t$6 e Ices at the conclusion all flavor
a , colored- with pistachio.- Tile
aj ~lady's mother was driessed InI
erald velvet, with superb emeralds
diam'6nds as ornaments, and the
ing lady herself was a symphony In
'een tulle and silver, looking like an
ldhie or a naiad. .
ansiarllesare agt pen.
al eIleduraged, but If one must
panes or gas uponWi a ayiosses
ve been il*td. Binid th Tilass withr
bboi-su4 tach a small gilt-chalb.
HiE BEARS A CtARMED LIFJ .
The Story of'a Man who was not Born
to be Drowned.
There is a sailor en Lake Michigan
who seems to bear a charmed life.
When the fury 'of the gale is . at its
highest and the waves are swaying in a
way that threatens to engulf every
craft upon them, he is in his element.
le sails alone in a little sloop not thirty
yirds long, trading potatoes and apples
between Sturgeon Bay and Manitowoc.
IIe was out in the terrible storm that
foundered the propellor Vernon, and
came into port in the midst of it. ire
had been out in a hundred storms be
fore, and he lived through them in his
little shell when stanch schoonors went
to pieces, but he leclared that lie had
never befo:o been out in such a gale.
People who wituessell his coming 4pto
the straight-cut at Manltowoc say that
the sloop was tossed about like a chip.
It would disappear entirely and then
>ob up again, until dropped from view
between the next two waves. The old
nan--le is 70 years of age-was
mighty glad to get into port.
"I wouldn't have given half a dollar
for my chances of living twenty-four
hours," lie said to the throng of curious
people who crowded around him when
le reached his dock, just above "the
iron bridge. When that storm broke
I took a swig from my whiskey bottle,
grabbed the rudder, held on as hard as
I could, and trusted in Providence. I
expected to be washed overboard every
minute, I can tell you."
Nobody knows who the old man i.
Apparently he has neither kith nor kin.
Ile lives solitary and alone. He both
ers his head about nobody, and nobody
about him. When an inquisitive per
son asks his name lie replies that it is
the same as that of his boat, and when
a person looks for it lie llnds the boat
goes without to name. Though three
score years and ten, the old 'nian looks
a giant in health, as he ist in stature..
Iis rudy face and red nose contrast
oddly with his gray beard and hair,
A Victim of 'Misplaced Conflddncei
: Wmm" - 11.- Novtie, - o Uanmpdon,.
has a goldfish which has had a singulai'
adventure with a cat. - The fish is
about six inches long, and its world ex
tends only. to the limits of a glass jar
on a table in Mr. Neville's store. For
sompany it has three or four s'mall sil
verfishes. A large black cat,. which
has watched the compounding of med
icines in that store for a number of
years, and' which has walked among
the medicine bottles on the shelves
without doing any damage, manifested.
i great affection for the goldflsh.
After making his daily rounds, Tom :
would stealthily approach the jar, look
In, settle down by its side and sit for i
ours and observe the antics of the
foldfish. The latter did not seem to 1
lesire an acquaintance with the cat, I
Jut appeared alarmed. Day after day. i
rom resumed his vigil. By degrees
the fish became accustomed to Tom's ]
visits and soon got overits first alarm.
Jourting the confidence of the fish,
om would sit and blink. Finally,'one
norning 'the feline made a sudden
unge into the far and brought out the
.,oiden fish, wvhichi he carried to a back
oom ,to devour. seeing lisa pet fish in
he mouth of its insidious enemy, th~e
ioctor rushed to the rescue. The fish
Is now back in the jar and is as.frisky
as ever, showing, hiowever, the mark
f the cat's teeth in its sides.
Died for a Prince's Cigar.
The guard of the mail train running
'ronm Rome to Naples' wvas making his
ounds as usual on the -footboardi on
he side of the cars, whon he was
i.ked by Prince Birancaccio, a p)asseni
oer, for a light. The guard struck a
lia,tch, but the dfaught blew it out, Hie
vent on trying one match after another,
di with the same unsatisfactory result.
lie got excited, and, Instead of handing
he-matches to the prince to light them
nside of the wvagQin the guard obstinate
y insisted upon conquering the out
ide draught. The train neared a bridge
vith 'very narrowv railings, and before
he gulard was awvare of the danger lie a4
vas erushed between the railing and the
bar. The prince fainted. HIe afterward
nade the widow of the poor guard a
resent of $2,000.
The Powor of Imagination.
The power of imagination is sup t
'osed to be stronger in women than in
eon; but this was not shlown in a re.
ent hospital experiment. Dr. Du- a
and ,wishing. to teat the pracbtcal of- t
ect of mind diseases, gave 100 patients
dose of sweetened water. F ifteen
sinu'tes after, entering apparently inm C
eat excitement, he announced that he G
.a( by mistake given a powerful eme- c
c, anq prep)arat Ions must be made ac- 0
ordingly, Elghty of the 100 patients 0
ecameo thoroughly ill and exhibited ni
be usual result or' an emetic; twenty ci
were unaffectedI. The curious part of a
Is that, with very .few exceptions, the o
ighty -*emeticized" subjects were
men, while the Otrong minded few, who r
ere not to be caught with chaff, were t
~omen.
SHOWING ONE-S FEIYIANGS.
An Effort to Conceal Better Than an
Effort to Reveal i]mot"ion.
It is true that sincere and strong feel
ing is likely to show itself in the fact
and in the voice, and to control and
sway the whole outer man. But it is
also true that a purposeful attempt to
show sincere and strong feeliing in look
and in tone is a mistake as great as it
is comnion. When the whole soul goes
out toward God )n prayer the voice
will evidence the heart's emotion; even
though he who prays endeavors to speak
in his most natural tone. * Bnt when
one who prays celiberatelry employs a
tone of voice whicli he never uses at
any othfr tine, his vdry tone suggests
the thought that he is not controled by
deep feeling but is endeavoring to indi
eate feeling by the manner of speaking.
When" again, one in sorrow strives to
look and speak naturally, but is unable
to, keep back the starting tears, or to
restrain his voice from tiembling, his
?vident struggle at self-control excites
the tender sympathy of those who hear
hiim. When, Jiowever, one who is re
eently bereaved puts on a look of en
forced sorrow, and assumes a tone of
grief, as re responas to a kindly greet
ing or as he tells of his fresh trial, lie
3o far hinders true sympathy by the
suggestion that he has uo struggle with
bis feelings, save in the direction of an
affort to show th.em. The inst:nctive
thought of the keen-eyed observer is:
"Don't trouble yourself to show your
grief. I'll f ake it for granted that you
ire sorry." it is not that these persons
who thus seek to exhibit feeling are
really insincere; but it is that they sup
pose they have a duty to appear more
leeply moved than they happen to be
it the moment. They think, in fact,
hat feeling needs a certain look and
one to prove its reality Rochiefau
:ould defined "gravity" as "a mysteri
ous carriage of the body, invented to
.over the defects of the mind." And
it would seem as if "emotion" were
'hought by many to be an unoatural
6ok %nd tone, dapted - to conceal -t he
ibsence of any overpowering feeling.
An effort to conceal emotion and to
ieem natural wins sympathy from a
beholder; but an effort to exhibit emo
Aon and to seem not natural is a bar
ier to sympathy. 'No man ought to
how emotion if he can help it; for it is
)nly irrepressible emotion that is to any
nan's credit, or that wins hun sym
athy and respect from. others. There
a a suggestion of this truth in the
words of our Lord to His disciples:
'When ye fast, be not, as the hypo
,rites, of a sad countenance; for they
lisfigure their faces, that they may be
ieen of men to fast. Verily I say unto
rou: They have received their reward,
)mt thou, when thou fastest, anoint thy
iead and wash thy face; that thou be
ot seen of men to fast, but of thy
?ather which iL in secret; and thy
ather, which seeth in secret, shall re
ompenso thee."
A Royal_Barbarian.
While In B3erlin the Shah attended a
~ala performance of the ballet, "Sard
~napalus," and sat in the court box be
ween the Empress and Prince Karl,
~nd here lie'did'one or two barbaric
leeds that smote with horror and con
ternation all those distinguished per
ens who witnessed them. 'Wishing to
all the Empress' attention to some
hing that was taking place on the
tage lie reached over' and laid his hand
mn her arm. "Where can he have been
>roughit up?" asised one great lady.
'An Empress' arm is not a sabre hilt.
o be clutched at." ..
A few moments later lhe called for a
~lass of water. It was brought him by
me of his attendants. Hie dralik the
ontents at a gulp and calmly handed
he empty goblet to the. P'dncess Karl,
viiose patrician countenance as she
nechanically took it from him was a
tudy for a- physiognomist, and not less
interesting was the facial expression of
lie ladies is- 'waiting and. .Qhamnberlains
rho had never before witnessed such a
deeod-chilling breach of eiquette.- Mut
vorse remained beh,ind. Presently the
hah cleared lisa throat, once, twice,
hrico, with ever-Increasing vigor, and,
len deliberately--spat in the stalli. A
budder ran through- the house and
everal fair ladles of fashion hurriedly
ook their departure.
.4fe can be sustaihed on a diet of co
can ut for a lo,ng time.- A ehip from
an Francisco bound for ilidney be.
mie water-logged on the way, and for
ghty days everybody on bg9ard lived
1m cocoanuts, a'large quantity of which
a d been taken aboard! At Sams. INo
Ises of sickness ocout'red, an4 the crow
rid Passengers landed mn a healthy con.
tion.
If the servant has a few minutes to
est don'4 hunt up some unhecessary
bing for her to do, simply because you
on't want to see her idAe.