The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, September 13, 1888, Image 1
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- t sV 1 EEK i, V> '! EDI IO EST BLI HE 1848 tli 'v,r ; a,ir1 1> i1 .. 1 "t , 1fI r .,
~ The ausmer oa.
nd dr.emedn be eapny lad,
-- l; the gldea orapgo tieo
Tby a With hI tht ;,ere beating
Of the happy days to be;
lok both were young and life was thir,
Bj'the shore of the rummer sea.
-haA duseen areer, sougut their baunt
' . eath tb, bendingbough' of gold;
A shat fom Love's naerring hand;
Ab, 'tis the story oldi
Po both were young and ono was fair,
-Where the stummer billows rollpol
And no?. Ask of the Roiting years
Wbre the golden visions be,
Tast imid as. the dreame i plighted
troth,
While'the waves sang merrily;
'or Truth bath fed and they've wandered
remi the she f the autor seat 4
ING ENEMIIS.
o reflection of a slim, black-robed
yre, a piquant, sweet faces to which
flection Miss Sybil Darke made an
latbrate bow, and turned away with a
wry face.
"Arrayed like the Queen of Sheba,
to pass muster," ohe wickedly thought,
going down the richly carpeted stairs,
singing softly. "Poutf why should I 1
care an iota for the opinion of all the
cynical, crusty old bachelors in Christ
endom? and I don't. Mr. Rex Vaneka,
my honorable unwilling guardian, least
of all."
When she came slowly in, still hum
ming in a sweet, careless way, she
found her guardian standing by the
window of the dining-room awaiting
her arrival.
On her entrance he turned with a 1
lazy smile which lay more in his dark
eyes than on the lips almost hidden
)aeneath a drooping, well-trained nns
;; tache.
Inwardly,. Sybil was provoked that
even the"fact of her having kept dinner
Walting could not betray him into ir
* ritation or impatience. 4
Outwardly, she returned his greeting
with a careless nod and a few light
wrrde, then both took their places at
the dainty, richly-laden table, under
the care of a well-trained butler.
.' Sybil had spoken of,hot guardian as a
"cynical crusty old bachelor, yet
stealing lagce t -him aprss the table
dt~e i1 a at lie
iin.Y.somer, -n a -Itural
we ny of the many young
bes vho had come under the fire
'( 'lolet eyes and keen satire.
ad Rex Vaneka was thinking in an
mused, lazy way how mnch her.keen.
witty presence had done to give edge
and flavor to his appetite.
Just one week since she had come to
the Glades straight from the funeral of
her worldly, handsome father, sent
there by fate, and. that father, who had
been an old fi lend of Vaneka's in the
days when both were struggling artists
and "hall-fellow-well-met" Ilohemians.
Theo Darke was then a widower with
one child-Sybil-the light of his care
less, reckless life. To the end of his
days Darke had remained a J3ohemian,
* a will-o'-the-wisp, who knew all parts
- of the world, but rested or cettled in
none.
* An ancient relative had obligingly
.yielded- the ghost, and left Rex Vaneka
not only a handsome fortune, but theC
beautiful home.known ats the Glades.
Pate and Thee Darke had constitut.'
ed him Ruardian of an "Unknownt
quantity"-namely, Miss Sybil-when
her father had laid down huis life as
e-isily as he had lived it uinder the
sunny sk'es of Italy.
On his death-bed ho had afi Aftpn Rlex,
* begging him to look out for 'ihe wel -
fare of his darling child, for the sake of
* the old days.
* Although Vaneka had answered Imn
mediately by. cable and sent his lawyer
to attend the funeral expenses and bringC
Sybil back with him, lhe hardly regard.
ed the duty imposed on him in regard
to the child in the light of a pleasure.
'What did he know about children,
large or-small, and "what the denico
was he to do with her?"
lie hardly stopped to count the age
the "child" must be-eighteen years, if
he had counted-but laid the matter be
fore his kindly housekeeper, Mrs. Mer- '
cei', who advised him to have the child
broughat to the Glades, and engage a
governess for her.
Sitting opposite his ward at dinnor,
Vaneka remembered all ts,and smiled
* teach this tall,- graceful young lady
* with the free, queenly grace of a young
filly; the lovely, fresh face, charming,
changeable, 3 et possessmng all the paroud,
haughty curves of intellect and culture;
the ducaionof practical worldlye.
perience that th:e' will-o'-the,wisp, Theeo
Darke's will-o'-the-wisp daughter, mustI
posseas.t
Mrz. Vanoka lifted his eyes during a
* n16mnentary lull in the conversation to
regard her again, and caught lhen in a
likn breach 6f etiquette.
4. a sift flush ent s-ed her lovely,C
s.zlcy face; her eyes regarded the dainty1
* 5'vrea of the table Instead of her com-.
panion's~ face, as. they had meant to do. e
Thten the sense of the ludicrous over
conn-s iwr confusion, and she gives way
to the mtin hl consuming her in a merry.
amus'ed laugh
Gravely, as if at a funeiral, VanekaI
*eumeod his dine., and gave the butler
rdor for a different braid of 'wle, I
vhIoh conpelled that stately individual
0 eave the ioom.
Do youide, $iss Darke?" asked a
, the amuSed sntale Milin ins ni eyes.
She tells herself she hates hin for not
ining in }er laughter to cover her .i
nortifQoato .
"Xakc a lentaur," she answered, in 1
Crln airiness, bound that she will con
erse with him as little as possible.
"Indeed!" the amusement extendts'to a
ds deep, rich, nonelihlant vole 'o> .
'I am glad of that. Time Willihang.
ess heavily on you bands. Wu4you s
ike to go on a tour of inspection after
IinnerY We would have pleety of tme s
ir a canter to the sea, And I have
ome excellent horse-flesh."
It is difficult to repress the eager ex
,itement in her eyes, but she bites her a
oRgue to keep from accepting, and a
inswers In a voice of cool, .languid in. e
lifrerence: t
"No doubt. I am an excellent judge c
if horse-flesh, and some time will give
nyself the pleasure of trying yours. I
(r. Vaneka. But I shall be engaged I
ili afternoon in' letter-writing. My be. c
ctting sin is a good memory, else
orldliness would teach me to forget 1
ne old friends. I wish you a plea.sant Q
anter to the sea. Perhaps you will f
)ring me back a 'sob from the ocean t
urf I' "
"I will at least try," he answers,
olitely sarcastic. "Your slave, lover,
r one of those well. remembered old
riends could do no more, could they?"
Unaccolintably she blushes, and rises
rom the table, with a careless little r
augh.
Rex -wonders as lie courteously holds 1
he door open' for her it the credit of I
)ush and impatient exit is not due to
he "lover." I
He returns from his ride in the sum
ner twilight.
The groom takes his horse and Rex .1
sunters up the broad avenue and gray
led, flower bordered walk to the grand
nansion, conscious of a vague ariness
if spirit.
All the time his"thoughts are fuii of
lie girl who has broken in on the "even I
enor of his way."
But it is many years since any one
voman has been more than another to
lox Vaneka.
But, like biiloenory-is his beset
u ' l k to him no
vould havebeeh well lost for the sake -
if a woman to whom he bad been less c
han nothing.
The notes of the piano .are dropping
nto: the outer noises of the twilight,
Ohen he reaches the promenade passing r
lie window of the music-room.
ie Is not aware that Sybil has seen I
is approach, and is singing for his
ara.
Her voice Is clear, exquisite, sweet
nd well-trained.
Rex is passionately, fond of vocal
nusic, possessing a fine tenor-voice
imself; but he smiles and, pauses as
le words come to him:
"Throw a rose in the stroam at morn,
Watch at eve for the flower's return ;
Throw on the lako a golden grain,
Watch at mnorn for tho grain aigain.
If your flower you agaiin bohold,
If you gazo on your grain of gold,
Thon believe, but not till thon,r
That thero is truth in tho vows of suon,"
"You must have had a sad experi- t
lice, Miss Darke," says her guardian, c
iteoring through the open, flower- r
had.>wed window. Is your selection
f songs the result of good memory, r
to?"
She looks up with a light laugh. Hie e
as turned the dagger she, meant to hi
se, and pointed it at her own heart .I
vithiout the least exertion, The latent c
nusement Is in his eyes, but still un- 'y
erneath is a touch of vague unrest, pan- c
ion, admiration, recklessness strugg1- c
rig for existence.'
"I was never so fool!shu as to trust my t
:rain of goldl' to the lake's tender mer- c
les," she saidl gayly. "Therefore need I:
ever watch for its return."
"You hayc a beautiful voice, Miss t
arke; finely cultivated," gently. t
'was educated for the stage-iI. e
ould be," answers his ward flippant
;then voice and eyes grow tremuluos.
"It was all arranged that I should
rako my aebut ini Paris several months
go. Then-then hie took ill and died.
'hat changed everything."
"Poor child I" he murmured, almost
mpted to kiss the tremulous lips, and
aguely conscious that time has net
iled t.he "milk of human kindness"
ulsing in his heart. "Poo,r child, and
oor Darke."
Involuntarily he placed cue strong,
haipehy hand above hers on the key
'oard. Involuntairily, too-pethaps im
oIled by some high, nward force when
3 spoke her deaid darling's name In
onder accents Rtex Vaneka's Ward bent
er queenly head aiid pressed her sweet
ps against the hand of her guardlan-.
ho man who always gave her the im
-ession that lie was laughing at her.
Thien swiftly she fled Crom the room
11( did not reapipear again 'that jflit,
he1 evening Vaneka spent in smofting
ii the terrace, and voting It intermina
hy dull..
The days glided into -weeks, and one
ay Sybil acame to her guardian with an
'pen letter in her hand. Their. nyutual t
Sro of 'Words and wit had never
Nanld mnadle'hem in the days past
n ~ jder comp.mionis, .certamnly de-.
I ,,interesting- company for eaclj
the. t,heir walks, drives, rides, and o
ho long evenings followli tho :
anit, happy dtiy
It Is eveningrnow 'aneka an
ug igalnst a marbt 1awn is itg
i the river and a layiui t 1n.
He watches tho elAn, *4 ' robed
Iguro coming toward him,=and Into ti'e
keptoisin of his eyes fla(bhesehat otht
Ight, long oreeping for; zitenoo.
Her beautiful fao. is pale an4 grpve.
he lays the open letter in her:uars
lan's'hand. It is from, a .promlbneit
arisiantheatre managor .offthig her
n engagpment for ;the comng--season
t an enormous figure.
Vanok: reads :t through, thet)foids
nd silently returns it to her.
"I have,, written an acceptance," she
aid quietly ih explanation.
'Otcourse, with the inconsistepoy.of
:woman," he answers, with a polite'
neer. "Exercise your good menlory,
nd recall .one day long ago, when you
old me that your father's death had
hanged all that--meaning the stage."
His voice is harsh and stralned. She
ifts her humid eyes to his face. It is
onchalant as ever, yet the lips are
losed as if in fierce restraint.
"Time, and the exigenotes of the case
ave blunted. my repugnance. Uniag
ing spirits and Independence are my
ortune. My voice must earn a liveli
ood."
"A frail support," angrily. "One of
hose days your voice will fail, perhaps.
Vhat then?"
Her immediate -answer was a wry
ace, then:
"How excessively kind of you to re.
nind me, Mr. Vanekal" mockingly.
"As your guardian, I have the au
hority," he 'continues, sternly regard
ug her. "I forbid you to got"
His eyes are looking keenly lown
nto hers, possessing themselves of shpr
oul-secrets.
The thought angers her, but her
eart thrills passionately under the fire
f his eyes.
"And if I should break your com
nands, Sir Despot?" she laughs, a tri
le nervously. ."What then?"
ie has possessed himself of -her.
lands; his glance holds hers in a look of
ender, passionate yerning.
"For even thinking of it," he ex
lalmed, in a low, masterful voice,
'suppose I say that your punishment
hall be to live out all the rest of your
1r
hould-you go? I could ot live vlitl
ut'yQu?"
-Yet a little while later he is wicked.
nough to ask, sure in happiness:
"And how now about the 'vdws of
en,' Sybil?"
"Gone the way of all cynical, crusty
achelors," she saucily replied.
A Paper Organ.
A very original musical instrument
as recently been constructed at Milan
-an organ whose pipes, instead of be
rig metal, are of- paper pulp. . Its his
ory is quite curious. Father Giovanni
rlspl Rigghizo, having learned that
he parish dell'I,ncoranata, at Milan was
estitute of mnin for the ofReces, con
ulived the idea of deviingi a chieap
material that would permit of construe
Ing org~ans under such conditions that
be most unpretending commnitiiies
ould purchase one of these instru
ients. -This monk, who passed his life
" p)overty; was confronted by lack of
oney, and, notwithstanding his efforts
A carry out. his undertaking, was be
inning to despair of success, when he
ad the fortune to meet an artisan,
auigl Colombo, who understood the
onstruction of the instrument, and
ma good enough to aid him in carrying
ut his design. TIhey both went res
lutely to work, and, finally, in Juno,
880, finished the instrument in ques
Ion. Unfortunately, by reason of lack
f funds, they could not exceed 22 reg
iters, 44 pedals, and 1,400 pipes. The
nal result, however, is extremely in
resting, ~since it is generally agreed
liat the instrument possesses great
ower, and a sweetness of tone not
und in organs hitherto constructed.
They Gave the Machine.
The Swiss, as a1&dy, move slowly.
lxpedition has no charms for them.
'hey have no liking for haste and hurry.
'his tra(,t was amnusingly illustrated the
thier day. A banken at -Lausanne
ought a typewriter. It worked wvell,
nd ho told his friends that lie was de
ghted with it. Only a few iweeksalater
was senit-to the market place1 to be
>M at auction. When asked ,why he
ave up the machine, the banker naive
rsaid that, with the typewriter, the
usiness letters of the firm could be die
osed of so quickly that the clerks were
ft in Idleness for a great part of the
ay. lie therefore abandonod the ma
blne and returned to ordinary pen and
k. In such a'country It is marvelous
dat there should be railroads and
beamers.
PAREERS who .hlp milk to wearket
annot betoo careful about the clean.
vgess of thi stock and stable, the
urity of the air and the -water which
he animals receuve, andc the 'rfeot
reedom from taint' of the pail and
asu used. . Prmere cannot afford. to
,sve a drop or -two of sour milk, an a
all or dan; neither can they, afford to
it mik or cream gta,gd where foul
dors moay be contracted~
g~ 'io.
n e re e hute
reavored "edu
,elde ;**ri4 a o ALL ot tl> < rastnus
av$ i'd 'j" .ri ai (e$ de
whatthe s u air flues
trips to ;u aptin,
but fisfae
what lndia 14 o4tjpnt lage n'
Europe west b stau d . ist
80,00,00 o " Xetflillerof anolent
nations,,4f i of nviets of
civllization o i nob l,ties, priest
londs; organi i 'eify"ariceiv
able purpose rn'liIe. spretding of
great religions d4.wn to systematic'mur
der. 'ther atredwco as many. B3
galese .as thee are hrenhmen; the
Iindostanees bp uerly so called, out
nu'mber ,.he tes 'in the, united
States; the Mahr tai would fillddain,
the peoplo of, therunjab wi h Soinde
are doublo the 4pulation of Turkey,
and I have named but four of the more
salient divisions.
Everything la op the same' bewilder
ing ooale. The fighting peoplo of India,
whose males are' as big as ourselves,
as brave as ourselves, and more regard
less of death tbkiat>ourselves,-number at
least 120,000,0001 4qtal to Gibbon's cal
culation of the population of the Roman
empire. - There are 400,000 trained
brawn soldiers hi native service, of
whom we hear - perhaps once in ten
years, and at leat 2,000,000 men who,
think their pro r profession is arms,
who would live , y arms if they could,
and of whom ?we in England never hear
a word. If 4he Prusslan conscription
were applied in India, we should, with
'ut counting' re' rvos .or landwehr or
any force not .s mmoned in time of
peace, have 5,500,'000 soldiers actually
in barraoks, with' 800,000, recruits com
lng tip every year-a force' with which
not only Asia, t the world may be
subdued. Ther' i'e. tens of rillions of
prosperous peasa,s whose hoardings
make of India thb grand absorbent of
the precious uget ls, tens of tpillidns of
peasants beside rhose poverty fellaha
or Sioilians or 9ottnaught men are rich;
ngilhons of p grtiaa : gito frova the
mien wo a 4,' 1N0
nealy ,^
Ivery :".oecujatiouigYbh ' e csts :+Ini
Europe existsa)84) anv Iidfa,l, 'The in
dustry of:. the vast continent. 'never
ceases, for yndia, with a' population in
places packed1 beyond European -preced
ent, imports ngthing either' to eat or
drink, and butfor tiio Europeaun,would
import nothing whatever.. She is suf
ficient to herself 'for everthing save sil
ver. Amid these varied masses, these
250,000,000, whose varied:descriptions
would fill volumes, the tide of life"flows
as vigorously as in Europe. There is as
much labor, 'as much contention, as
much ambition,. as much crime, as
much variety of careers, hopes, fears
and hatreds. It is still possible to a
moneyless Indian to become vizier of.
a dynasty older. than history, or fnance
minister of a new prince whose personal
fortune in hard cash Is double that of
the late Emperor William, or abbot of a
monastery -richer than Glastonbury
ever was, owner of an estate that covers
a county, head of a firm whose tranSac
tions may vie with those of the Barings
or Bleichroders. One man, Jute Per
shad by name,; fed and transported the
army wvhich conquered_the Pnnjab.
JAMES WHITOOMB RILEY.,
Tolls a New esper 1Uan a Uouple of
Pathetlo and Hlumorous St:orios.
Mr. Riley, who wvas dining at an Ital
Iati restaurant, bit the end off one of
those crowbars of bread that are served
in those caravansaries, while his listen..
er begged him to emit a story. He fin
ally consented to toll this combination
of humor and pathos:
"I was wandering up one of the prin
cipal streets of Indianapolis one Decora
tion' day, when I met a rugged old
farmer from the interior who -seemed to
have lost his way. As he wandered
aimlessly along 1 approached .him and
asked: 'Do yoti enjoy the exercises of
the day?' 'Wall, so so,' he answered;
'but I ain't here for fun, I come up
to go to the buryin' ground' up there on
the hill. -My boy'sabur1ed up there.
Hie was In the army, you know. lie
had to lie about hue age to git in, but
the angels '11 forgive that one lie,; Lord
how he did fight! I've heardi the other
soldiers tell about,i it. Wall, lhe nt
into the 'Jattle o' the lVilderneqf an'
got -wbunded awful. 'They telegrayhted
to me, an' I went right down. ~ie
wanted to be took home an' I fetched
him. Oui the way up he grewr worse,
an' he said to we if he.could live to get
home an' see pis ma, he.wotild be Satis
fled. Hie kejl gittin? Weaker an' weak
er, but he he14i on till I got himh home'.
Hisa ma tried?to ntee hinm back to life,
but he keD' o% runnin'.down. Hie call
ed me up to big bed one night 'bout
sundownb an't said ses he6,. TPa I
wanter be buried up i town' meani a
here in 1pgIt40*p lia) 'an' t wanityou to
keep myg n.
Iltere th old ~arIhr wIped the tears
fram his oek with his bi5 brown
hand, and th ~ ught,it d@Wn my
sindtlutmaud*,ad
exanminter~ Pmto
to, kep that grave geen If I have to
One of the ,aost atfeoting stories tha
f'. 'iiey teie =tiat Which gave hin
- ii ,.ratioA for l,pathetio poen1
>.ye -gt turSVature o pe
splue " t' viOts the boastful, chieer:
sentimehts of "a "little deformed chilc
rlho glo;ies in.his defornaty, and whosf
only fear is that his aunty will no
know him when she gets to heaven
whre:he Is, becaue there, as she ha
told 1pm, he will be erect,'and freufron
doefomity lke the other. angels.
The' Idea for that poein," said Mr
Ailey, "was suggested by a rough, rug
ged man that I met on one of my tours
I had -been lecturing in a little interlo
town,- andh "ad to get up at. dayligh
one cold 'morning to -ride to the near
est railway station. The man whi
drove me over,wus one of those. rugged
characters that you meet in the rura
regIons-ono of those men who"deen
sentimentality a weakness and tear
something to bo ashamed of. As we
rode .olollg over the croaking snow he
said, 'I heard you talk last night.' I
remarked, 'Indeed! I hope you enjoyed
it.' 'Yes,'. said lie, -fust rate. My lit
tie girl Was ~there. She likes that sort
o'thing. -She's great on po'try. You
may-hev seen her. She sat on the-fron
row. She's a little girl, not ve'ry tall.
You must a-noticed her.' I told hin
that I did not recall having seen her
and lie continued: 'She ain't very big
She don't weigh morn fifty pounds
You see, she's got curv?Aure of thf
spine. Her mother died when she was
a little thing, and havin' no one to lool
out fer her as a mother can, she fel
down stairs one day an' hurt herself
She never got over it. I hev took care
o' her the best I knew how, but she'a
never groweo. Sometimes I thin1
she'll never be no bigger.' The teari
welled to his eyes as he talked. He
was ashamed to show the evidences o:
his grief, and turned aside his head
Seeing that I was looking at him anm
had discovered his emotion, he dashed
away the moisture 'from his eyes witi
one .-of the heavy .loather mittens that
he wore and said: 'I dunno what's the
matter with my eyes. One o' my hosse
iie I$ne, and I put sonelinement on hli
I9e this mornin'. I must *a' got som
of it on this yer mitten o' mine.')
-Fldking to see the. Deooaswd,
Z'he Oit11'(de cKr in loago
vouolips for the trdth of thO following
"I hfd- a funeral at one of the high
'toned coloired eliurch1es on the south
side not long ago. The audience roon
of the church was 'crowded. The
preacher, who is a good deal of.' a com"
mon-sense man, by the way, got up an<
read 'a 'chapter, and then closed the
book without selecting his text. This
is quite common, however, with him,
I will repeat to you Just what he said
'.Br udders- and sisters1 do church an
crowded to-day as I habent seed it to
many a day. In fac', as do theaters
sometimes.put it, dar am standin' room
only. Now, why am dis? I kin tel
yo-all," and I'se' g'wlno fo' to speak my
mind to do p'int. Yo.all come hea
fo' to see do' deceased 'in do coffin dlar,
I remembah. brudders and sisters,
when Brudder Johnson do deceased was
a-libbin',' and when he ust to come t<
do church which I am proud to say fo'
hig4 mem'ry ho did, yo-all. was nevei
berrry much consuirno'l about flookmn'
in heah to 'see .hlm den. When he was
libbiji' do ddceased wa'n't much rur
after. Somo.of yo-all wouldn't speaka
to him. But now dat.de deceased att
dead ye-all kin come in healh and blecl
tip do les and do spar room, kase ye-all
Pink dat de coffin will bo open and you
kim march aroun' iind -take a look al
do dleceased. I'so gwvine to disapp'inl
ye-all. Do collin won't be open, not Ir
dis yeah church. Mister Undertaker,
proceed wid do necessary preprashun,
for removin' oh de body ob do deceased
Wile -do congregatIon will remain
stan'ini' and jine do choir in de chant,
lessqed are do dead what die in de
Lawd. Do deekins will improve do op.
portunity by passin' .do baskets.
want you 'cullud people what's In de
habit eb flockin' to do funerils ob do.
ceabed 'thembers and won't come t<
church to know dat you got to pay fo'
yo' fun.
Coffns sent to Live Mou.
"Here's the queerest case of swind
ling,I ever heard 'of,''.said a gentleman,
as he laid down a copy of an E~nglisli
newspaper, *'it shows that the B3ritil,
are as sharp sormetimes as the Yankees,
A young man, wearing a most'rmolim.
oholy countenance and all the habill.
ments of woe1 went to a prominent uin,
dertaker, and stating that his unch(
(naming a wealthy citizen) was dead
ordered a 'Nery expensive cofi.n wiLl
silver mountings to he' sent to the rosi,
dence et the dedeaspd. In payment h<
tendlered 'a check considerably' largel
than the price of the coffin, and receiv
ed the change in hard 'sovereigns. The
sorrowful young man then disappearoe,
and when thle coffin'was sent acoording
to 'the address the prominefit citizer
supposed to be deceased was fount
alive and well. T2he ~slick swindlei
1 eyed;.his littlo game on a number ci
the leading unttertakers of London, nd
thieAiworked the same raoket in Dublir
1thout- being caught. So ~you se~
d6hnnf'Buulk oa lie us some pointe'j
on sWindling y
MAKING GAS.
A Very Common Thing Whiiih Pc
Fo0ple Understand.
How few people, can Intelligibly e
plain some of the nmost ordinary thin
in every-day life? An official of t
city gas works was heard yo say, n
long ago, that if he might judge by t
number of times he was asked for i
formation, not more than two people
ten know how common illuminatih
gas is made. They all seem to undE
stand, he said, that it conmes out of so
coai, but they are Ignorant of the pr
coss by which it is extracted. We <
not doubt this at all, for, as we ha,
said to you several times, it is the ve,
common thin s that we are apt to ove
look in our r,earoh for informatio
You will understand, therefore, wl
wo sometimes select subjects to tal
about with which you and overybod
else ought to be familiar.
Now, let us give you a very shmp
explanation of gas-making. Break r
a piece of bituminous coal into smo
fragments and fill the bowl of a clay ti
bacco pipe with them. Cover til
mouth of the bowl with wet clay at
then thoroughly dry it. Put the bo%
of the pipe into a fire where it will gi
red-hot and you will soon see a yellov
ish smoke come-out.of the stem and
you touch a light to the smoke it wJ
burn brightly, for it is nothing moi
nor less than the gas from the coal.
You can purify and collect this gi
in a very 'simple way. Fill a bott
with water and turn it upside down I
a bowl of water. You know the wati
will not run out of the bottle becau;
the air pressure on the water in tl
bowl will prevent it. Put the end
the pipe-stein under the mouth of l
bottle and the gas will bubble u
through the water into the bottle, grat
ually displacing the water, and if tl
pipe were large enough to make a grei
deal of gas the bottle would be entire
filled with it.
You have seen the immense quant
ties or coke which they have at the ga
works; that is what is jeft of the co,
after the gas has been burned out of I
Coke is carbon, only a sinall part <
what was in the coal having gone o
with the gas. Take the clay coverhi
off your pipe and you will find the boy
filled. with this coke.,
Now, that is prec'sely the.way. gas
"1db* .1 4t Qt 46. the ga
tborks. Istead of" pipe"bowls they to
big retorts, and these are heated re
hot by furnaces, for, the "fire must l
outside of the retorts. Heating ca
red hot in a closed' retort is very diffe
ent from burning it' in the open all
A large pipo frorm the retort carri(
off the product of the coal, consistin
of steam, tar, air and ammonia, as we
as gas. The ammonia and the tar'g
into tanks and the gas into coolers an
tlpn over limo, which ta*es up th
acids in it, into the immense iron ga:
holders which you have seen at th
works.
These holders are open at the bottor
and stand, or rather are .swung, il
tanks of water, being adjusted by mean
ot weights. As the gas comes int
them they rise up out of the water, bu
the bottoms are always submerged a
that the gas cannot escape. The large
gas-pipes, or mains, as they are called
connect with the holders, and condue
the gas through the streets to thm
liouses ghere it Is usedi. The pressur
is given to the gas by the weight or th
iron holders, which are always bearing
down on the gas they contain.
IIowv They Decided It.
There were once twelve Norman
who traveled together, noti one of when
had ever seen the sea. One day the
camne to a ld spread with bleachinj
linen andl concluded it must be the blu
water. "Brothers," said they, "mv
must swvim across." Removing thel
garments and making bundles of them
which they bore oli their heads, the:
took holdl of each other's hands an<
commenced wading through. Firs
they counted their party. "You and:
are one, he and the 'other two, and sa
on," said they,but no one could onum
ci ate more than eleven this way
Thinking that on'e of their party hat
dropped out and- would joi them late)
they crossed the sea of linen and agait
proceeded to the enutteration. Thoj
wvere still unable to find more thai
cleven, though each one tried, "Yom
and I are one,'eto. Finally one o|
them said, "Brothers, I have it -W
will take twelve clods of dirt, and each
one stick his nose in his own clod. Il
there are twelve noses each clod wvil
be used." This plan succeeded, an(
they found themselves twelve in numi
ber.
IIHyde Park WVali.
.Within living memory Hlyde Parlt
(London) was surrounded by a wall or
which the advertiser, of the day dis
played himself (I believe it was black
ing that in those times made the work
weary), and the little bit of wall re
*maining at the north of Kensingtor
Gardens has just been removed and re
placed with railing by speolal permis
sioAm of the Queen, as one of her Ma
jesty's jubilee benefactions. The favol
was askced principally on behalf o1
I'alace Uou4t the four acres oppositi
the Gardens, which are to be coverc<
1with beautifal ihouses In- the prevalen
fd anid color.
SAY-SO .MARRIAGES.
m One of the First on Record in
Amorica Was That Of Gover
nor I3ellingham.
ga The incident where a Boston man of
L44 some notoriety recently performed his
of own marriage ceremony (if it might be
I called suoh) in New York, is not with.
n. out precedent. ' The marriage of Miss
in Lucy Stone and Dr. Blackwell, about
ig thirty-dve years ago, was of somewhat
r? the same nature; but thoro is a still
ft older precedent in Boston, viz., that of
0' Governor Richard Bellingham of Mas
Io sachusetts, of which colony he was one
/e of the original patentees. This remark
:Y able marriage was enacted nearly 250
r- years ago and under circumstances of
n. peculiar notoriety.
IY Richard Bellingham, who was bred a
k lawyer had been llecorder of the old
y town of Boston in England.. le camo
to Boston in' the colony of Massachu
Ic setts, in 1434, ana in the following year
p was chosen Its Deputy Governor, in
,1 August, 1034, he was chosen Selectman
). of Boston and with his first wife, Eliza
o L9th 'entley, he joined the orthodox
d church in August of the year following,
vi making a public profession of faith.
,t In 1641 he was chozen Governor in op
r- position to Winthrop, and was chosen
if again in 1054 and again in 1000, after
11 the death of Endicott, continuing in
o oillce for the remainder of his life, his
death occurring December 7, 1072. In
is 1004 he was made Major General, and
le in that year the King sent four Con
n missioners to regulate the affairs of the
)r province, ordering ]3ellinghan and
te others, who were obnoxious, to proceed
to to England and answer accusations that
)1 wore made against them in person.
te His Majesty, however, is said to have
p been appeased by the present of a ship
I- load of masts.
0 But the peculiar matter in point oc
it curred in the earlier part of Governor
y Bellingham's Colonial career. ills first
wife, who accompanied him from Eng
I- land, died in 1638. There had been in
y- the family ' before this occurance at
il young woman named Penelope Pelham,
t- whose position appears to have been
)i that of housekeeper or assistant in
0 household matters. After Mrs. Boll
8 ingham's death the continuance of this
l young woman in the Governors's house
hold was the occasion, of considerable
k. gossip.. To his other. dignities .Govev
nor.B3llinghamadded-that-of Judge or
I Magistrate for the trial of oauses, and
d this gossip so scandalized thb Court
1e that it was decided to dispose him from
I his position. This was in 1041, when
'- his housekeeper was but 20 years of
age. But he refused to leave the
Bench, and the Grand Inquest present
9 ed him for-breach of order of the Court,
11 and the Secretary called him to answer
e the presentation.
d Being Governor as well as Judge, he
e was not an easy subjbet to handle.
However, in deference to publio opin
? ion and no doubt as a-matter of policy,
lie called together the ministers and
1 some of his people, Inviting them to his
D house, and there in the presence, bring
Sing Penelope forward, lie introduced
3 her to-them saying: "This is my wire,
but I will have no law tibout it. God
3 is'enough for me and her."
3 This wvas all the marriage ceremony
,vouchsafed by the Governor, and ap
joars to have been acquiesced in by the
community, for lie was never after trou
a bled about It. HIe was not a godless
man, but rather a strong church mem~
i)er. Uis second wife, so strangely wed,
is said to have borne him six children,
who how'ever, died young. His relig
ious peculiarities may be seen In part
i)by his will, which provides thist, after
I the decease of hisu wife and of his son
ti)y the first wife and his granddaughter,
the bulk of his estate should be spenxt
) for the yearly maintenance "of goodly
) ministers and l)reachors" of the true
L' church, which ho considered to be that
of the Congregatibonalists. His sister
SAnnie, widowv of Williamn Hibbins, one
of his assistants, was executed as a
witch in June, 1050. Though latitudina
[ rian enough on the subjeot of his own 4
) marriage Governot Bellingham was
- Iviolently opposed to Innovation In relig
ious matters, and was exceedingly so
vore towards the Quakers, who afirm,
says Drake, that be died distracted.
At a Turkish Weddicing.
Turkish wedding festivities last seyd
eral days, during which Gypsy dancing
girls and musicians entertain hosts o1
women at the home of the bride's par
ents. Much frivolity is indulged In, '
much cigai'ette smoking and coffee
drlinking, swarrms of. beggars are fed
and bakshished at the door, and many
presents received and given. But all
this time.the expectant young Turk has
never set eyes on his intended. 'Alf the
begmtning of the festivities porters come
to lisa father's house bearing the. bulky
trousseau of t,he bride, for the Turkish
custom is for the bride and her belong
ings to be brought to the home of her
husband. Quests begin at once to dis
tribute the articles of the -trousseau
about the bridal chamber, d> as to show
everything oft to the best advantage.
Fiest.ivities are contIiuu(d at both
houses. On thie third day friends o'
tho bride-groom proceed in a body to
ths house of the biride, a;nd on the sixth
the bride Is conducted to the hiouse et
her husband, wh4re he stauids athe
4oor to receive her. vel -