Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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we? Si,''.as “HO, FOR 8LUMBERLAND." AM •iSSi ■ <rf vhtte, ,hor WhM tlM UtUe oom get drourqr Aad h*«*7 Hde droop dmra To hidobiuoo7«ooad block erM, Qrof •grMOodejreaof brown, Atbouaand boots for Droomlond Am wotting loo row And tbo taiymon om colling, “For the Slumber Monde, bo I" nun the eioopr UOio children HU the boots olong the ehora. And go soiling off to Dream laudj AM tbs diming of tbooor In tho Sen of wet, mokes nunlo Tbnl the ahildrsn on|r know Whsnthag answer to the boatmen's “For the Slumber Islands, hop 0h| take o kiss, m j dortings, Bnjroa soffl away from me In the boot of drseae that's waiting To boor jroa o*sr tho seat Take a kiss and give one, And then away you go Availing Into Dreamland, “For too Slumber Monas, bor -fit. Nicholas. A BORROWED FARE. X. Aristides Dufour, retired mercer, s widower with one daughter, is seated in his dining room, near a set table, at which from time to time he throws a despairing glance. He holds his paper before him, but it is scarcely probable that be reads it, for he hat held it upside down for a good minute and has not yet discovered his mistake. Behind his green spectacles, the ex-mercer’s impa tient, preoccupied glance falls ten times to tbs minute on the old china cuckoo clock, which, without hurrying, without lagging, goes on its quiet way and re peats its monotonous tic-toe. Then the above mentioned glance falls again on the tureen in which the soup is growing cold. And the glance grows tender, as his nostrils are assailed by the appetizing vapors that escape from beneath the lid. There are two covers at the table, and two chairs extend their backs invitingly to the diners. M. Dufour is waiting for some one, some one who makes him wait. But, like the late Louis XIV, whom he resembles, perhaps, in this particular alone, the ex-mercer does not enjoy this, especially when the compan ion of his vigil is a repast which has nothing to gain from such a delay. Promptness at table, as in business, is his " r; he is no longer in business, the men, font he still eats. Break fast and dinner are, to him, so many notes of hand, coming in at fixed tmurs, and which he must honor as he would his signature. At those hours M. Aris tides Dufour fills his stomach, dutifully, conscientiously, with the same punc tuality that be formerly observed in emptying his strong box on the 15th and SOth days of the month. And when you know that the cuckoo clock is on the point of sounding half past #, you can form an approximate Idea of the violent state in which M. Aristides Dufour, retired mercer, wid ower with a single daughter, found him self at the openimg of this veracious his tory; and especially since he has been waiting for his daughter before sitting down to table, since five minutes before 0 o'clock. Never since M. Dufour retired from business (that is to say, since bo had the misfortune to lose his incomparable wife, Alma Celine Dufour, born Robichon, who was, at the same time, his clerk and his partner) had such a catastrophe fallen upon his peaceful house. Not to have tasted his dessert at half-past 61—for that hour was about to strike, it was striking, it loq! struck. Half-post 61 The little door of tho rustic clock has r ned wide, the mocking bird, fiap|)ing wings, has burled out liis "cuckoo” in a particularly ironical voice. To sea, tor funy five minutes past, an excellent noun losing all its good quali ties r*, a few foot away, and, in tho bar gain, not to know what good or bad Ids near little Charlotte was doing—it was a cruel torture, in which to anguish of the heart was added cramps of the Never had M. Dufour been so near to comprehending a suicide’s mo tives. His glance, now become a little wild, wandered over the table, vaguely —aking among the knives, the forks and the epoone the instrument with which he would put an end to this horrible sus pense. At tide moment Gertrude, the old ser vant, monsieur's cook and mademoiselle’s maid, a veritable female factotum, enters, grumbling, into the dining room. M. Dufour, his patience and his strength exhausted, has let fall his piper. His two plump, soft hands, hanging at the extremities of his swinging arms, look as If they too wanted to fall off. "Well, sir,” snaps Gertrude. "Well, Gertrude, M sighs the unfortu nate man. "Hadn't I better take back the soupf” "Do you think so, Gertrude f Charlotte rmwot f»ii to come in in a moment. It is even quite surprising that she is not here now. When did she go out, and where has she goner* m "Mademoiselle left at 4 o’clock, as she always does, to take her piano lesson. The Ism on huts an hour. Half an hour to go, as much to oome back. Made moiselle should have been able to return, as Is her custom, at 0 o’clock. 1 ' "And U b thirty-five minutes past 6. ’’ "At tide hour, yon know, the omnibus b often full" "Deuce **kw the omnibus!” “Or medetnobelle, encouraged by the fine weather, may hare wanted to take a Uttie walk and coma back cn foot by the Suede la Paix. And there are many , many Jewelers’ shops, to see In the Bus de la Paix .opto** j devil fly away with dresses, l and young people too, when they'ere as late as tidal I'd like to know what there can be to see at dinner timet * A hungry stomach has no ears;'nor should tt hare eyes.” •'Without reckoning the lovers, the i who follow pretty passers-by, ’in their ears a lot of silly”— I’m aaqr enough on that . . a»| You’re Joking. Gertrude, Charlotte is a good girl, thank heaven! 6he know* how to put a whipperenapper fa hto place if there be need. She has ban brought up in the Aperican fash- , Charlotte has, and I’m proud of It” ~ re ie not much reason for it t np in the American fashion as 'm you like, I am only a poor, ig- it woman, but as for me 1 do not I bow they can let a young it the streets all alooe. ” II Pshaw! But you shall , that Charlotte is a good j behaves herself.” but It will oome to no , and it will be your perhajw. felt I w *“» gromanng. Out tta tarem and is returning with the boots, when all at once the street door bell rings out a merry peak ‘It’s Charlotte at last I” evrioim. the to - **!**«• ■ko K- echoes Gertrude; and she hastens to open the door. Mile. Charlotte cornea into the room like a miniature hurricane. A npmm face, smiling and merry; lil blonde curls clustering on her forehead and neck; eighteen years, thirty-two a willowy figure with gracefully I curves, little feet Just suffleient- ehapely hands neatly gloved— Ive the general effect; but there are a thousand charming details, such as the dimples in her cheeks and chin, and the agreeable curves which promise much and which already tax her natty little lacket ribbons, flounces, artificial flowers, laces here and there; in two words, all Ct papa’s mercer's shop—but nothing of the mercer. "Bo. you’re here at last!” the father remarks, ironically, as he draws his chair up to the table. "Papa, I want to tell you” “Sit down; sit down to the table first. You can explain as we eat; I will under stand you better. Gertrude, the soup.” "But, papa, veu do not understand. I have Just had an adventure, a true ad venture.’’ "An adventure I" repeated M. Dufour, turning quickly about m his chair, while Gertrude cast at him, across the soup tureen, a glance at once of triumph and reproach, and which clearly said: "Didn’t I tell you so?” ‘‘Yes, papa, an adventure in an omni bus with a young man” “In an omnibus I With a young man! 1 Merciful heavens 111” And unconsciously thrusting the ladle into his pocket, M. Dufour sprang to his feet like a jack-in- the-box; “an adventure 1 What do you mean by thatt" “Why, papa, an adventure with a per fectly proper young man, I can assure you,*’ said the young girl, smiling. "Let me tell you, mademoiselle, for your future guidance, that perfectly proper young men and women do not nave adventures, especially in omnibuses. Explain yourself," “It is very simple, papa dear. And, truly, you need not make your eyes so fierce and your voice so big. You see, I i had forgotten my portemonnaio—that can to any one, cant itP’ es, yes; particularly to those who have none. Continue." "I didn’t notice it until the conductor held out bis hand for my fare. Wbat was I to do, what could I say? They might take me for a beggar, for a cheat, haps. I was perfectly crimson, and 1 was going to turn deadly pale. Fortunately, while the conductor still held out his hand, a nice looking young man by my side gave the conductor a piece of money and said, ‘Two fares.’ This gentleman, seeing my embarrass ment, had understood and kindly paid for me." "Well, mademoiselle, these are nice goings on I You accept six sous from a total stronger! Better to have explained to the conductor, to the driver, to the treasurer, to the whole company. Be sides, you should not forget your porto- monuaie when you get lu an omnibus, or you should not got In an omnibus when you forget your portemonnaio. How ore you going to repay the ycung man his six sous?—for I hope ytou do not in tend to keep tliem as a memento.” “But, papa, I have his card. Here, you see, ‘M. Adolphe Lindet, clerk at the ministry of war.’ ” Tho father, not stopping to hear more, snatched tho card from the girl's hand. ••What,” he cried, “not content with in solently forcing on you a loan of thirty centimes, in disregard of all propriety, tills gentleman present* you with his card in the bargain I Why, he is the worst of scoundrels, your perfectly proper young man!” “But, papa, to be able to return his money to him I had to know hie ad dress.*’ M. Dufour could find no answer to this ingenious reasoning, and he tossed the card on the table with a thoroughly Irritated air. “I shall not dine this evening, ” he de clared. “Gertrude, go find me a cab. I am going to return these six sous to this Adolplie immediately, and I shall give him a piece of my mind." “Oh, papa, papa, you will notdo that! It would be so ungrateful Remember that this young man has rescued your daughter from a most unpleasant pre dicament”— “An unpleasant predicament! Leave me alone! He would put you in one, rather. Besides, you may keep still, mademoiselle; I need no instructions, particularly in the matter of remember ing, from a young flyaway who forgets her portemonnaie. ” And M. Dufour puts on his boots and takes his cane, growing more angry each minute. “The cabman is below, but ho will take you to only one place.’’ “Very well, I can take another con veyance home." And out lie goes, ■lamming the doers after him, leaving Charlotte to explain to her “dear old Gertrude” jh.-it she is much better ac quainted with Adolphe than she dared avow lo her father; that, for a month at least, he had taken the same omnibus that she took every evening; that, with out showing it, she, Charlotte, had soon noticed that bo bad noticed her, etc. "Heyday, this is a pretty kettle of fish,’’ declared the shocked servant, shak ing her head. Adolpbo is in his bachelor quarters and has just declared to himself that he will never wash the bond that his charming neighbor touched so lightly as she took the card he offered her—or, not before to-morrow morning, at least Suddenly there is a knock on the door, it is thrown open and a stout old gentle man, with a very red face, his hat cocked over his ear and his cane sturdily grasped in his hand, bursts in upon the loving swain. "Sir,” begins the Invader, in a declam atory tone, “your conduct ia most frivo lous; it is unworthy of a French gentle man. A chivalrous man does not thus •boas the innocence; the inexperience, the embarrassment of a well bred young girL To profit by the absence of her fathsr and her portemonnaie to brutally offer 80 centimes, and a visiting card, to an unprotected young person is, perhaps, enterprising, but it is a very bad action. However, here are your six sous, sir. My daughter and I wish to have nothing In common with you who” Before Adolphe, who was literally dumfotinded. could say n word, a now actor fiii|K-ured upon llie scone. It was the cabman, furious, reproaches upon bis liiis. nud brandUibing a formidable whin. “So-ho, here’s another fare who leaves no cate in my cab. I told you 1 could anu mac rignv now. Adolphe understood not a word of all tela But the stout gentleman, who has fumUed his ten fingers in all his pockets, which be has successively turned inside out without any appreciable result has terned quite pale, then all red, then crimson, and Anally violet. Now he is turning green, like a rainbow In a liigh hat and a top coat Convinced at last that his laborious search Is useless, M. Aristides Dufour, mopping Ids brow with his gloves, which he mistakes for his handkerchief, feebly replies, in a broken voice, to a last and more forcible demand from the mhman- “I—I‘ y e—forgotten my pocket book.” A C’-EEPY TROPIC CITY. I AN OLD TIME "HOE L3WN ” 1 wn*» a Tan he* tow In Wmll-Snovlng Anchor. Moran ham, Brazil is one of the has 1 bee ns. All the people an* dead, but they don’t know It Grass is growing in the ; streets, and the place is slowly but surely dying. There is very little business, and the one excitement in tlie month is the arrival of the American mail steamship. Almost every building is a church or nunnery, and prie»u are everywhere. We first make a call on Ills tan colored majesty, the president and then start out to explore this new and strange city. In tee Days .. V teat don't roared the jehu: L Within two years a homo car railway has they've tried that on me before, and | been introduced here, probably by' you needn t toy it again. You can tell enterprising Yankee. The cars are that yarn to the commissioner of police. WeU, you are a nice fare, anyhow,” And he caught hold of the arm of the unfortunate E. Dufour, who, inert, de spairing, and on the verge of apoplexy, was allowing himself to be dragged out But Adolphe—a special providence for the Dufour family—has already taken the necessary sum from his puree, and dismisses the cabman. “Will you allow me?’’ tho young man politely asks of M. Dufour, who has only strength to murmur, “With pleasure, my dear sir. And twenty-five centimes for liis drink money, not a bit more.” Mias Charlotte’s father, who just now could not understand that one does not some open and similar to our suuuner care in Boston, though much smaller. They are drawn by little bits of donkeys, whose tremendous ears seem the biggest port of them. The conductor stands on the end of the car and blows a great brass horn on curves and comers. While staring at those curious street care we are joined by Capt. C . who invitee us to take a drive in one of them. We step on hoard and the little donkeys wag their ears as they start off. As it to an open car we retain <vur cigars and soon perceive that all eyes ore attracted by the captain's uniform. Whispers are plainly heard of “Com- mandaute Americano," etc. In tho mean time the car move* on up one street and always have with one thirty centimes to down another—all alike dreary. pay an omnibus fare, began to admit that onoe in a while one may be very glad to fall upon some one who will complaisantly advance you the thirty-five sous to pay a pitiless cabman. » So, In spite of the diverse and unac customed emotions which he hail just experienced, it was with an almost gra cious smile that he said to Adolphe: “M.—M. Lindet, I believe—thirty cen times and one franc seventy-five make forty-one sous I owe you. If you will do me the honor to come and dine with me this evening we can arrange this little matter immediately. As an old business man, I do not like long standing debts; besides, quick payments make fast friends.” A quarter of an hour later Gertrude set one more place at the Dufour table. It is there still In fact, the very next month the bans of Mile. Charlotte and M. Adolphe were published at the mairio. And papa Dufour now declares to whomsoever will listen to him: “Never borrow, O fathers of families; it costs too much. Once in my life I was forty- one sou# In debt, and to square the ac count I had to give my daughter and 80,000 francs as a marriage portion.”— Translated for The Argonaut from the French of Henri Second by L. 8. Vns- oault No Chance* Against Gamblers. In 1840 that famous magician, Robert Houdin, was requested by the judge of instruction of the tribunal of the Seine to examine and verify the genuineness of 150 packs of cards which had been seized in the possession of a man who enjoyed anything but a savory reputation. A peculiarity of the cards was that they were perfectly Vhite, and it was impos sible to detect tho least proof of their haring been tampered with or find the slightest mark ui>on them. Over his work Houdin spent a fortnight, now in specting them with tho unaided eye, again by means of superior lens. Every individual card of the 150 packs was in spected again and again. He was giving up his work in despair, when, of a sud den, close to the corner of one of them, ho perceived a dullish spot Looking at it clooor the spot disapixuired, but holding U at a distance from him the spot re appeared. Following up this clew, be OHCirtainod that on ov«rv card there ex isted a spot which, according to its posl- tion on Um) card, indicated tho suit and Ujo value of tho card. He pursued the subject further, for tho purpose of ascertaining whether a person who plays for amusement only has tho slightest chance of winning with a person who plays only to live. The conclusion ho arrived at was that there is no such supjxieed favorable chance, and tliot tho amount of tho non-profue- I sioual's losses is limited only by the mag- i nanimity of the professional—Boston Herald. Fovoilto Beverage* In Persia. The great beverage in Persia is sher bet, wliich to plentifully supplied, and of which there are many varieties—from tho bowl of water with a squeeze of lemon to the clear, concentrated juice of any sort of fruit to which water is added to dilute it. The preparation of sherbet, which is done with the greatest care, is j a very important point in so thirsty a : country as Persia, and one to which much time is devoted. It may be cither expressed from the juice of fruit freshly gathered or from the preserved extract of pomegranates, cherries or lemons mixed with sugar and submitted to a certain degree of heat to preserve it for winter consumption. Another sherbet much drank is called guzaug ebben. It is made from the honey of th? tamarisk tree. This honey to not tho work of the bee, but is made by a small insect living under the leaves of the shrub. During the mouths of August and September the insect to col- i lected and the honev is preserved. When used for sherbet it is mixed with vinegar, and, although not so delicious as that made from fruit, it makes an ex cellent beverage. Only among the rich and fashionable are glasses used. In all other cases sher bet to served in china bowls and drank from deep wooden spoons carved In pear- wood.—Youtli’s Companion. Occasionally a pair of black eyes can ' be seen peeping through the bare of a window; we raise our hats and they are quickly withdrawn—look again and there they are. On the seat in front of us site a matronly lady of perhaps 45, very richly dressed; beside her a young lady of 20. The latter to altogether charm- | ing—with rich black hair and speaking eyes. But what to this? Quickly turning in her seat she extends a jeweled hand and in broken Spanish nolitely requests my cigar to light her dainty cigarette. “Great Scott!” I mutter, as I hastily pass over the required light She hands it back and, as I gaze upon it, grander if I had not better keep it as a memento of Maraaham, * But here we ore on the top of a very high hill overlooking the sea. This to the end of tlio road and we have twenty minutes to look about in. A large, yel low washed convent is near by and, aa I glance up at tho barred windows, I think how much sorrow and heartache might be inside of them. We walk to the brow of tho hill and cast our eyes over tho bay, dotted here and there with coasters and fishing boats. The Advance looms up among them like a mountain among kills. S'.io lies broadside to and her spars and rigging are trimmed to perfection. Hark I There Is the horn and we must go bock to our car. It is now 4 o’clock and we must return to the ship, which sails at 5:80 p. m. The hour comes, and wo listen to the captain’s orders from the bridge as he gets the Advance under way once more. First the hedge Ls underrun, lifted and brought on board. The thip is now rid ing by port anchor, flood tide. The port cliain is paid out until the sixty fathom si lack lo is at the water's edge and the bows directly over the starboard anchor, which to then catted and put in place. The port chain is tbqn taken in to fifteen fathoms at water's cage; she is then un moored. There goes three bells. "Lift your anchor, Mr. Buy. ” "Anchor awa; sir.” "Ahead half speed.” Slowly moves; then faster and faster as she gathers headway. "Anchor at the hawse pipes, sir.” "Ahead full speed,” comes the last order from the bridge. I turn for a last look at the harbor and city, and what do I hoc? As I live, there ou the after deck of the Advance are the two ladies we met ou the street car, bound through to Rio Janeiro,—G. V, C. In Boston Transcript Young Wosora of Conk The young women of lima aro M fa mous for their beauty of form as for their beauty of face. They are always slender, generally short of stature and aa graceful as sylphs. Peruvian women never wear colon in the stns-t, and this custom to observed by tho aristocracy as well as by the jiensantry. The manta to worn by j every woman wlien she apjioars on the street, but in their homes, at the opera and at afternoon receptions and even ing balls the ladies adopt Parisian styles and dress with a great deal of taste. The manta to square In shape and about two yards in size. It is i folded so as to be triangular and the cen ter of the fold to placed upon the fore head, where there to usually a bit of lace that hangs down to tho eyes. One end I falls down the front of the drees, while I the other to thrown around tho shoulders j and fastened at tho breast with an orna- I mental pin. There to a romantic story about the manta lluit explains why it to always black. The Inca women wore colors until their King Atiihttn!]>a was killed by tho Spaniards. Then every woman in the great empire, which stretched from the Isthmus of Pauama to the Straits of Magellan, abandoned colors and put on a black manta, and it has since been worn as perpetual mourning for the last of the Incas.—William Eieroy Curtis. A Cmmtttrf For*y la Caw* «f Drag Ago. Did you ever get a “bid” to a dance In the country? I mean a real, homemade, fifth cot>ca«ioos, log bouse, quarter of a • century back country party. A spree, a i hoe down, a ncighbortiood shaker of tho . simple, ready, rough, pioneer davit. Did, j eh? Then you will remember that on tlie j morning of the day fixed for lit* party i the board partition tliat ran across the middle of the house was pulled down, and the beds were piled in one corner, and . the bunk was shoved up to the end of the house beside the stove, and the stout t legged kitchen table was placed against j the wall at tlie other end of tin* room, and j a stout legged chair planted on the table, and to that chair the fiddler was elevated, and there he rolled his gray old head from side to side, and whisked lightning from his elbow and fingered in ecstatic frenzy and beat time with his cowhide boots, and tlie throb of his eager musio touched the very Inner keys of life and stinvd the young blood ana softened the hardening muscles and loosed the settled joints of age until the stove shook and the dishes rattled on the shelves and the beat of the feet on the dancing floor w as like tlie crashing of a score of mallets, deadened as by tlie sweep of a mighty broom between. How they danced 1 How the fellow who had a few steps shone and capered and pounded tho floor with his cowhides! And how they swung! Round and round, and round and round, until the perspira tion rolled down the face and the breath gasped for a renewal of the lease. Tamed and degenerate days. They swing no more. And they dance no more. Tlie mighty clatter of the old Scotch reel where old people unliml«red and shook off the steps of youth, and the young people gasped to keep pace with tho ciders; and the opera reel—they called it tlie upper reel—which the old folks also invaded; and then the cutting out jig, where the youtlis one niter the other did their finest steps, and the girls did the same, and you often got on the track of a liking or on incipient com pany keeping by noting the time and circumstances under which some par ticular girl selected to take the floor, and who thus became tho partner of her choice, and the same with tho male end of the performance, where tlie cut out was much more likely to have a signifi cance. Do you rememlier tliat os a boy you felt If you could grow up to call off dances, or i>erliapa call off and play the fiddle at the same time, as you once knew a man do, and whose image lived in your memory for weeks, that clerking in a store or even teaching school would be nowhere; or perhaps you know a clerk who kept store ami could call off also, and you ached to grow up and bo ns great a man as he? It is hardly likely you knew a male teacher who could dance much. Somehow tho worry lu the teacher’s head over arithmetical problems and the confusion of dates and the eccentricities of parsing seemed to get into tho teacher's feet when ho got ' on tho floor, or, as u native used to put it in a place where I once lived, his left foot was Methodit.t and mixed him up and disgraced him every time ha mac- aged to get for a partner a stronger who hadn’t been told how badly he danced. It seems singular now, when you tliink of It, that tlie best dancers among the boys were woodchoppers and farmers and farm bands, while tho best among tlie girls were the daughters of hotel keepers and village merchants, and very often th® village farher was a mighty spry little tiling an her taut, for the reason tliat sho was almost always such r. grunt favorite of the dancers of tlie oilier jejrausakn tliat sho couldn’t avoid landing tlie floor, and was a dancer In tpke of Lerself. The danoes were usually k»i>t np unKl 4 or even 5 o’clock in the morning, and were then cloned with a stuimadoua breakfast, followed bv an effort to get a collection for the fiddler. And ttiese pioneer fiddlers were shockingly and or- jcid.* Vory often timy were not paid at all. They had the gratitude and tho np- pn<cuitionof the time hi which they livod. But no more. They fiddled tLrou,,h two generations, but the second did for th«m little better than the first, and they passed down to the grave miserobly jiOor.— Toronto Globe. WANTED! 10,000 bales cotton, Within the Next 60 WAYS, and the very highest MARKET PRICE will be paid tor them. Great Rush Mime’s 30 Per LESS TUAJi ANY OTHER Hons ^ in Cent. Town September <5, *^8—O.n TH .; USUAL FINE STOCK OF GROCERIES, WINES, LIQUORS, TOT: ACCO AND CIGARS IS TO ms FOUND AT TLX. O. CO UN E It OF 1’KAHLK AND GROVE riTHBETS. Large Qi an titles ot Goods an* Ihing P'<elv«*«i duly mid the nato am- tomriK of thi»* well known establishment throughout DAilingron County aie gaaiuutial th;U a omitinuaNoe nt their patron,ige wil in an lot !l»-iu "The Best Good- for the L' ast Money.’’ riep'em T> r d, 1SSS—I r Better Than “Planked** Shod. ing of the proper way to cook gome Facts About Ilonoy. Starch and sugar when eaten undergo a digestive change before they are assim ilated. In honey this change has been made to a considerable extent by the bees. It 1s partly digested, easy of as similation and concentrated, and fur nishes the same element of nutrition as ffignr and starch—imparts warmth and energy. As • medicine honey has groat value and many uses. It is excellent in most lung and throat affections, and to often used with great benefit in place of cod liver oil Occasionally there is a person with whom it does not agree, bat roost people can learn to use it with beneficial results. Children, who have more na tural appetites, generally prefer it to bat- tar. Honey la a laxative and sedative, and in diseases of the bladder and kid neys it is an excellent remedy. It has much the same affect a* wine or stimu- lantK wiilmut their injurious effects, and to unequaled in mead and harvest drinks. As un external application it is irritating when clear and soothing when diluted. In many places It is much appreciated as a remedy for croup and colds. In pre serving fruit, the formio acid It coo tains makes a better preservative than sugar svrup, and it Is alao used In cooking and ci mfacuonerr.—American Bee Journal Superintendent Henry T. Fenton, agent of tho Connecticut state fish com missioners, says he has eaten them in every known style, from those that came from the country housewife’s frying nan to the world famous Philadelphia planked shad, but the way in which shad should be cooked in order to get the full flavor and deliciousness of the fish to to follow the plan of tho old Housatonic river fish ermen, who used to catch them as high up as New Milford before the Birming ham was built. This to it: Take a five or six pounder and split it open on the belly. Have a good fire of hard wood, in order to pro duce plenty of live coals. Place inside the shad as much butter as the belly will hold, sew it up, wrap it in several thick nesses of heavy manila paper, wet through; dig a hole in the hot ashes, bury tlie b’uad, and after fifteen minutes take it out, and you have a dish fit for the gods, and if you can't appreciate it you don’t deserve to eat another shad an long as you live. It is well to state that what Mr. Fenton doesn’t know about *harl is hardly worth learning.—New York Sun. The Rich Beggars of Thrace. Perhaps the most curious of all guilds in an Oriental town and one which flour ishes exceedingly hi Cavalla ia the beg gars’ guild. Like other guilds, they have their own laws, their president and their council; this council gives a diploma to those who wish to beg, and without per mission no (Hie durst seek alms at the churches, mosques or street doors; all tlie legitimate beggars would rise up in arms against him and hto life would not be worth much. Friday to the recognized beggars’ day, on which day they go round from door to door and get their wallets filled with bread and beans; these are divided by the community; nothing is private property; it to against their creed. The beggars’ brotherhood is rich; they possess house property, the income of which is spent for the benefit of the com munity, and once a year—on the day of St John the Charitable—thsy have a feast They all go to church on this day. It would be difficult to recognize the tidily dressed members of this hon orable community in their beet clothes; rags and tatters are only de rigueur for them when they are on their rounds. Beggary pays very well If a beggar’s daughter marries she is dowered by the community, the president sees to tho be trothal, and his consent is essential At Balonica Blind Demetrius is the presi dent; he is easily recognized as he pa rades the streets, singing hto everlasting wail: Dsr and day sad night, I live in tlie dark. Wrstch that I ami I bear tbs word, but I cannot ■Mia And though you know him to be a rich man, that ms wife to well dressed, and that hto daughter will receive a handsome dower, his plea for aims to almost Irresistible.—Corulull Magazine. ▲ man who don’t know anytnmg ia pretty sore to tell it the first chance he gets.—Shoe and Leather Reporter. A physician of Birmingham, Eng., who has spent long years in observation of what to known as “braziers' disease.” or “brass workers’ ague,” asserts that the trouble to due to acute or chronic copper poisoning. Almost all workers in brass or copper soon begin to show signs of the disease. A green band ni>- pears ou the neck of tlie teeth, between the crown and the gum. tlie edge of tlie gum itself becomes slightly blackened, of coraier bv the workmen. Where the to Picayune. man with bad friends misunderstood.—New In Moscow, as well as everywhere in Russia, the horses are rery fine ami very fast. They have the build of rncr Itnrses, with their slim legs and fur r-sebing necks. Even hoi no of the tlnwk ice have full blooded horn's, and their i!riven are aide to obtain a fancy price for their usk Homes and boot* an* the two thing* licit Russians seem t>> pride liv niM-lv.-* it;<on. They may not liavo any ktivUngs—and few of tlie lower classes wear thsin nt cA —but boots they must hnvo and will have. Boots with high morocco hito the tors, to that every inch shows •nine to to liable Orleans