The Darlington herald. (Darlington, S.C.) 1890-1895, April 08, 1891, Image 1
THE
DARLINGTON HERALD.
>
VOL. I.
DARLINGTON, S. C., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 8, 1891.
NO. 31.
CHURCHES.
Presbyterian Church.—Rev. J. G.
Law, Pastor; Preaching every Babbsth
at 1H a. m. and 8 p. m. Sabbath
School at 10 a. m , Prayer Meeting every
Wednesday afternoon at 5 o’clock.
Methodist Church. - Rev. J. A. Rice,
Pastor; Preaching every Sand ay at llj
a. m. and 8 p. m., Sabbath School at 5
p. m., Prayer Meeting every Thursday
at 8 p. m.
Baptist Church.—Rev. G. B. Moore,
Paster; Preaching every Sunday at 11$
a. m. and 8:30 p. m., Prayer Meeting
every Tuesday at 8 p. m.
Episcopal Chapel.—Rev. W. A.
Guerry, Rector; H. T. Thompson, Lay
Reader. Preaching 3rd Sunday at 8:30
p. m,, Lay Reading every Sunday morn
ing at 11 o’clock, Sabbath School every
Sunday afternoon at S o’clock.
Macedonia Baptist Church.—Rev
I. P. Hrockington, Pastor; Preaching
every Sunday at 11 a. m. and 8:30 p. m.
Sabbath School at 3:30 p.m., Prayer
Meeting every Tuesday evening at 8:30
•o’clock.
COUNTY OFFICERS.
Sheriff.—W. P. Cole.
Clerk of Court.—W. A. Parrot.
Treasurer. -J. E. Bass.
Auditor.—W. H. Lawrence.
Probate Judge.—T. H. Spain.
Coroneh. —R. G. Parnell.
School Commissioner.—W. H. Evans.
Codntt Commissioners.—C. B.King,
W. W. McKinzie, A. A. Gandy.
Dvofcsaumal
w.
F. DARGAN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
Darlington, C. H., 8. C.
Office over Blackwell Brothers’ store.
E.
KEITH DARGAN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Darlington, S. C.
N
ETTLES & NETTLES,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Darlington, C. H., 8. C.
Will practice in all State and Federal
Courts. Careful attention will be given
to all business entrusted to us.
jp BISHOP PARROTT,
stenographer and t y p e-writer.
LEGAL AND OTHER COPYING SOLICITED.
Testimony leported in short-hand,
and type-written transcript of same fur
nished at reasonable rates.
Good spelling, correct punctuation
and neat work guaranteed.
Office with Nettles & Nettles.
0 P DARGAN,
ATTORNEY -;.'AT -LAW
AND TRIAL JUSTICE,
Darlington, 8. C.
Practice* in the United States Court
and in the 4th and 5th circuits. Prompt
attentios to all business entrusted to me.
Office, Ward’s Lane, next to the Dar
lington Herald office.
DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS.
DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS.
DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS
—ALL KINDS OF-
MARBLE MONUMENTS,
MARBLE -:- MONUMENTS,
Tablets and Grave Stones furnished at
Shoit Notice, and as Cheap as
can be Purchased Else
where.
fW~ Designs and Prices Furnished on
• Application.
HT All Work Delivered Free on Line
of C. & D. R. R.
DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS,
DARLINGTON MARBLE WORKS,
DARLINGTON, S. C.
FIRE! FIRE!
I Represent Twelve of the most
Reliable Fire losuiance Compn
nies in the World—Am >ng
them, the Liverpool and Lon
don and Globe, of England, the
Largest Fire Campany in the
World; and the ./Etna, of Hart
ford, the Largeetof all Ameri
can Fire Companies.
fWT Prompt Attention to Business and
Satisfaction Guaranteed.
F. E. NORMENT,
DARUNGTON, S. C.
Office between Edwards, Norment &
Co., and Joy A Banders’.
IF NO WERE YES,
K*o were Yes, and Yes were No,
world would topsy turvy go,
A veto then would be assent,
Defeat would join hands with Content,
And war would mean arbitrament,
BNe were Yes, and Yes were No.
UK# were Yes, and Yes were No,
fie timid would the bolder grow,
A blush of shame would bring delight
And harsh rebuffs would gain the fight,
ill* blackest night would then be light,
(file were Yes, and Yes were No
l$few*re Yes, and Yes were No,
the poor would harvest weal from wo?,
Itar Plenty, with a sullen face,
WWld seek them out in every place,
And ugliness would then be grace,
l Yee, and Yes were No.
Jftta *** Yes, and Yes were No.
wMtatk were strong, the high were low,
disappointment would be blis?,
Witt won would lose, who hit would
Afro"’
SUfeime
&
would thus presage a kiss,
Yes, and Yes wore No.
I Yes, and Yes were No,
Would be my dearest foe.
Thj coquetries, which now I fear,
Would bring thy day of conquest near,
Dorthrough thy wiles I’d win thee,dear,
Yes, and Yes were No.
—New York Times.
MRS. BAYNE’S MONEY
“There’s very, very little worth living
for," said Margaret Lee, lojkiug discon-
lolately down the street, as she set out
from her mother’s house for her daily
work.
“That hot, humdrum store; those
people, always the same—looking out
for themselves, never caring how much
trouble they give or how torturing they
ire with their whims! I always ex
pected to earn my own living, but 1
didn’t expect to earn it this way. I’m
tired of it; I’m tired of everything!”
“You were pretty nearly late this
morning,” said Janet Handell, the girl
who stood at the section in the great store
next to Margaret's. Janet and Margaret
were fast friends, and were talking to
gether in a moment’s lull.
“Yes, it was so delightful outside,
and so close and stuffy inhere!" said
Margaret, with a half groan.
“I saw Mr. Ives look rather sharply at
you as you took your place.”
“Oh, I dare say,” said Margaret.
“Let him look?"
“But you might loose your situation.
You wouldn’t like that.”
“Well,I don’t know that I should care
much. It’s one form of slavery here.
The worst that could happen would be
an exchange for another.”
“There comes your terror,” said
Janet, gliding back to her own place.
The “terror” was a lady who hail of
late much frequented her counter, look
ing over her laces, giving a good deal of
trouble, and seldom making a purchase.
The saleswomen were allowed a small
percentage upon sales—a fact which
rendered such customers a severe trial to
their patience.
“I wish to match these pieces," said
the lady, showing some samples.
Box after box was ransasked, and
after an hour's search, two of the samples
were matched.
“lam quite sure wo haven't anything
nearer than this,” said Margaret, refer
ring to the third. “See; it is so nearly
like it that the difference could scarcely
be seen.”
“We have not looked in those bixes,”
said the lady, glancing toward a row on
a high shelf.
“Those are of an entirely different
style, madam.”
But the lady insisted, and Margaret
opened the boxes, one by one, for hei
leisurely inspection.
Impatient customers, tired of waiting,
went away. From time to time Marga
ret caught sympathizing glances from
Janet, but these were not all. She knew
she was being keenly observed by Helen
Winter, a girl who stood near her on the
other side. Helen had a cousin foi
whom she wished to obtain a situation in
the store, and Margaret knew well that
information of any failure in patience on
her part would promptly find its way to
her employers.
Margaret showed uo signs of annoy
ance.
“It seems to me you keep a very poor
assortment,” said the lady, at last, turn
ing away.
Next came a party of customers, who,
it might be hoped, would Le less hard to
please—a bevy of laughing high school
girls, who, satchels in hand, had come
in to take a peep at finery for the ap
preaching graduation exercises.
They looked at laces, ruching and
fans, with long discussion over every
article, ending in most cases with a de
cision to refer the matter to mother oi
sister. They wore not very profitable
customeis, hut it was pleasant to serve
them.
As the sound of their merry voicce
dieel away, a feeling of longing for the
good things which were a part of their
heppy, prosperous lives took possession
of Margaret. She had lookoel forward
to $heso things once, before the cruel
fortune came which had bound her to this
tiresome counter. Again the burden
pressed heavily on her heart.
As one of the relays of clerks was in
the lunch room, Mr. Ives, the superin
tendent, entered. ^
“He has his speech making Uce on,"
whispered Janet to Margaret.
“And he’s turning his attention to
ward us," said Margaret.
“Young ladies,” said Mr. Ives, pre
sently, “I am sorry to be obliged to in
form you that a customer has lost some
money In tne store. Mrs. Rayne
visited several of the counter* this morn
ing-”
“Oh yes. she did!” came in an under
toned groan from one or two victims.
“And has reported at the office the
loss of a hundred dollar bill.”
There was a small sensation, while
many eyes turned upon Margaret.
“Those of you with whom Mrs. Rayne
lealt will please make very careful search
for the money among your goods.”
“Too badi” exclaimed Janet, as the
mau left the room. “That bothering
woman kept yon fooling over her trashy
hits all the morning, Margaret, and now
you’ll have to spent the best part of the
ifternoon looking for her bill. And after
ill, she has probably lost it somewhere
else, or not lost it at all.”
“Yes,” said Margaret, “I shall have
to go to the bottom of every box, and
shake out every piece in the stock, foi
she wouldn’t be satisfied until I had
shown her the verv last inch this morn
ing. But I do hope some of us will find
it.”
Margaret used every chance moment
of leisure to search for the missing bill.
A heavy shower brought a check upon
the rush into the great store, and with
patient hands and keen eyes she turned
over her laces.
At cloeiog-time the girls gathered in
little knots, discussing with anxious
looks, the affair of the lost note Mar
garet said little, but listened to the
others with a face which showed that the
graver concern had for the time shut out
all minor worries.
“It’s a shame, I declare,” said Janet,
taking Margaret's hand in her own, “for
these rich people to come and make trou
ble for us poor girls about their money 1”
“When they’ve so much of it that they
don’t know how to take care of itt"
chimed in another.
“If I were so careless as to lose it, I
should want to keep still about it.”
Mr. Ives came about with a sober, In
quiring look as the tired girls busied
themselves in putting things in order
after the day’s work.
Margaret began to pack the choicest
of her laces, to be stored in the viult in
which the most valuable articles were
put away at night, her eyes still keeping
up their search, although she had given
up all hope of finding the bill.
The safe was at the hack part of the
store, and she made several journeys to
it before the things under her ore were
all put away.
“What’s that?”
Just as she was stepping out, after dc
positing her last armful, something on
the floor caught her eye, so vaguely in
the gathering shadoftv that she was not
sure that it was more than a passing
fancy. Yet how could she be mistaken
in that dim flash of dingy green?
With a heart beating in sudden hope,
she quickly ran back into the vault, aud
with a little cry of joy snatched up some
thing, and again turned toward the mas
sive door.
Creak—bang! Just as she reached it,
it closed in her face. Without dreaming
what this might mean, she pushed on
the door with her hand, calling out: “J
am here! Open, please!”
But another creaking sound had min
gled itself with her words. Mr. Ives,
who had seen her come out, had then
turned his head to speak to some one
else, failed to see her rush In again,
and had turned the knob which set the
combination.
Janet Randall sprang quickly toward
him.
“Margaret Lee is in the vault!” she
said, excitedly.
“No; I saw Miss Leo come out before
I closed it.”
“She ran back. Hear her! Open it
at once, please!”
“But I cannot. The combination is
set, and I do not know it,” he said, gaz
ing at Janet in growing uneasiness.
“Where is Mrs. Adams?” cried Jauct
to the girls who were gathering near.
“She hasn’t gone home, has she? Bring
her—quick 1 Margaret is shut up in the
safe!”
A chorus of dismay rose, while a num
ber of the girls hurried to seek Mrs.
Adams, who was the only employe who
knew the combination.
“Margaret!” cried Janet, going close
to the door.
“Yes, Janet, here I am!"
“O Margaret, you’re not frightened,
are you!"
“No," Margaret replied; “but why
don’t they open the door?”
“They will, in a minute. You see,
the combination’s sprung, and they're
bringing Mrs. Adams to ouen it.”
“I hope she’ll hurry.”
“She’s coming now. We’ll have yon
out at once.
Mrs. Adams, intercepted just as she
was going out, was broaght back in hot
haste. She uttered a little scream when
she was told what was the matter.
“Why, I can’t remember the combina
tion! Where's Mr. Barrow? Where’s
Mr. Price?”
Quietly and firmly equal to the every
day demands upon her, Mrs. Adams
failed completely in the moment of Ibis
emergency. Willi another cry of dis
tress, she sank down in a hysterical con
dition.
“Why, the girl will smother—she will
die in there!” she exclaimed.
“Where is Mr. Price?” Janet asked,
in desperation.
“Mr. Price has gone to a lawn festi
val over in Elm Park,” said Mr. Ives.
“Telephone to him, and tell him it is
life or death whether he gets heie im
mediately.”
“Margaret!” again called Janet.
“Yes?”
“Have patience a little longer, deer.
There is a delay in opening, but every
thing is being done to get you put.
Courage, Margaret I Speak to me!”
•‘Janet,” Margaret called, “tell Mr.
Ives—”
“Yes, here I am."
“I—I—I’ve found—”
The voice sceme d to die away.
“Go on, Margaret,” screamed Janet.
But no answer came, save an occasional
gasping murmur, and Janet crouched
upon the floor in speechless agony.
There seemed no hope. Mrs. Adams
was more hysterical than ever, aud could
recall nothing of the combination. The
telephone rang, but Mr. Price could not
be reached.
After the closing of the door, Marga
ret had turned and glanced about her,
half-expectiug to see some rays of light.
But the absolute blackness frightened
and oppressed her.
“How dark!” she said. "I never
really knew before what real darkness
is.”
She heard Janet’s call faintly through
the thick door, and after exchanging the
first few words with her, waited with
such patience as she could summon.
The confusion of excited voices out
side very soon conveyed to her a thought
that her danger of suffocation might be
greater than she had in the first few
moments imagined.
A slow terror crept to her heart, as
the sounds seemed to take on increased
agitation, and one or two screams reached
her strained cars. Her heart-heats came
slower, and her breath already seemed
difficult to draw.
Janet called again, and each one of
her reassuring words seemed to tell anew
of the fate which might be closing about
her.
She guessed too well what the delay
must mean. She knew that Mr. Barrow,
the senior partner, was out of town; that
his junior lived in the suburbs, and could
not be reached before—what?
With strong shudderings she strove to
draw a free breath, hut already the suf
focating air seemed to refuse any relief
to her gasping lungs. In a ) aroxysm of
despair she flung herself upon the floor.
Life! life! life! How precious and
beautiful a thing it was! How sweet
had been the light of the sun and the
freshness of the air! The modest home
with which she had been discontented,
the routine of work which had wearied
her—how their details seemed to stand
out in vivid hrightncis! How delight
ful would he the hum of the busy store,
how kindly the most unsympathizing
face in it would seem to smile upon
herl
And her mother! With a cry of an
guish, Margaret sprang up, and tried
in vaiu to call out. She scarcely
heard the sounds without, though
she had a dim sense that Janet was call
ing her. However, with the thought of
home came a determination not to give
up while there might be hope. She re
membered having heard that bad air
sinks to the floor, and again forced her
self upon her feet.
Bat her limbs tottered,and with trem
bling hands she felt for a small step-lad
der which she knew was in the vault.
She brought it close to the door, and so
leaned upon it that if her senses failed it
would keep her from falling.
In doing this,she noticed that she still
held in her baud the bill which she had
found. She crumpled the bit of paper
in fierce anger. Had she, indeed, given
her life for it?
Then a fearful thought came; when
those without should at last reach her,
might there not be some who would be
lieve she had concealed the money with
the intention of keeping it!
The dreadful suggestion spurred her
to one last effort. If she could tell them
how she had found it, no one could
think that she had stolen it—
But an iron hand seemed closing upon
her throat as she again strove to speak.
Her voice sounded to herself hollow and
indistinct, as with her last conscious
breath, she tried to send it through the
iron door.
Two minutes later Mr. Barrow, who
was supposed to be at his summer cot
tage among the mountains, entered the
store, and looked in surprise upon the
scene of confusion.
“The combination. Open the vault,
quick!”
Mr. Ives had gone to find experts to
force open the vault, but through the
clamor of joy and fear the girls soon
contrived to let Mr. Barrow know what
was wanted.
lie knew the combination, and at *
few turns of his band the heavy door
swung open, and Margaret fell forward
into the arms wailing to receive her.
In les-i than half an hour she opened
her eyes to gaze into the kindly ones
which smiled and cried over her,
“I received i telegram calling me
baqk on important business,” Mr. Bar-
row explained. “I did not guess how
important it might prove to be. ”
“It must have been sent straight from
Providence,” whispered Janet, r
Margaret was taken home in a car
riage by Janet and Helen Winter. As
the carriage was about to drive away,
Janet held out to Mr. Ives the hundred-
dollar bill, which she had taken frotn
Margaret’s hand; ' > ” ! * %
“No," he said; “let her return It to
ita owncri” : . ■ '
Mrs. Ray he came to see her, and
cried'ami laughed as MargareUtold how
the bill was found.
“You poor dear child! To think
what a result my carelessness might have
had I It caught on some of your laces,
and then dropped into the vault. Now
I shall positively never take it back. I’m
sure you earned it, going into that
dreadful place foi it."
Margaret’s face whitened at the thought
of accepting the money.
“I shall feel that you have not for
given me if you refuse to keep it,” said
Mrs. Rayne. “Put it in the bank for a
nest-egg. I think you will have more to
add to it, for I have told Mr. Barrow
that, of all the saleswomen I have ever
met, you are the most patient, Atten
tive and ladylike. I fancy he knows
when he has an employe worth paying
well.”
“I think I found something more than
the money,” said Margaret.—Toutli't
Companion.
A Year’s Books.
Facts and figures are sometimes dry aud
uninteresting; but those which give the
statistics of the publications for the past
year in this country and in England are
of uncommon significance. It appears that
there were 4559 books published in and
imported in the United States in 1890, as
against 4014 in 1889, 4631 in 1888,
4437 in 1887 nnd 4676 in 1886. Of
these 4559 books 3180 were new works
manufactured in this country, the rest
being new editions and importations.
Tho greatest activity was shown, as
usual, ia fiction, of which there were no
fewer than 935 new books published—
three for every week day in the year.
There were also 105 new editions of
novels printed, and 78 were imported;
making a total of 1118 works of fiction
in all. In 1889 the total number pub
lished was 942, and in 1888, 874. In
England, on the other hand, the flood of
fiction is growing less In volume. Last
year there were only 881 new novels pub
lished, against 1040 in 1889 and 929 in
1888.
The last three years have seen a steady
falling off in the total number of hooks
published in England. Last year there
were 5735, including new books and
new editions; in 1889, 6067; nnd in
1888, 6591. A year ago the London
Academy accounted for this decrease on
the theory that the newspapers, reviews
and magazines were supplying the wants
of the public and were taking the place
of books. The English figures for 1890
go to conform this view; but the extra
ordinary productivity of American au
thors has turned the tide upward in this
country. The figures for 1890 are not
much below the maximum for 1886,
when the extraordinary number of 4676
books was published.
In this country famous writers, espe
cially novelists, are turning more and
more to the newspapers for a first mar
ket for their works, nnd the influence
upon the book trade of the ucwspapci
and of the half dozen great magazines is
a matter that may become of as great im
portance in this country as it now seems
to be in England.—New Yuri Preu.
ESKIMO PASTIMES.
GAMBLING GAMES WHERE THE
LOSSES ARE SMALL.
Canvaiback and Redhead Dioke.
The disappearance of the canvasback
duck is due to two causes. It breeds in
Hudson Bay and tho far northern lakes
of British territory. The millions of
eggs that are laid along these bodies of
water are no longer respected. They are
collected for commercial purposes, and
the annual destruction is as great as it is
disgraceful.
When the canvasback leaves its North
ern home it follows the edge of winter
down the coast until it reaches the
celery-covered flats of the upper Chesa
peake Bay. The arrivals have grown
less and less. At one time tho birds
were killed by the hundreds with
mounted guns. Not many years age
7000 ducks were killed on the opening
day of the shooting season. Until a few
years ago from 2000 to 5000 were shot.
Last fall everybody looked forward to s
big season. The previous winter had
been an open one, and the celery beds
were in excellent condition. For the
first several days the shooting was fine,
but the game was principally in redheads
and cheaper vaneties; there were few
canvasbacks. As tho season progressed
this scarcity increased.
The redhead duck has taken the
cauvaaback’s place, and as it resembles
it in taste and flavor most persons do nol
appreciate the difference; but the canvas
back is still unequaled and its disappear
ance is a misfortune to lovers of good
eating. It has permanently gone abovi
the reach of all except the rich. Th<
two ducks are very much alike except in
the color of the head and the bill, the
redhead of course being less ia price. —
Ntvt York Timet.
Cbeerfal People . In Spite of Dreary
Surnmndlngs — Wrestling—They
Play Ball—Facial Contortion'
ttts-MnMo and Danpingi
The Eskimo has two Ambitions—to
provide for the necessities of life and to
have a good time. The horizon of these
ambitions is rarely more than twenty-
four hours away. Although by no means
thrifty, he does, of course, provide for
the necessities first. The seal is to the
Eskimo what the buffalo was to the
Comanche. Having killed his seal he
is and always has been by nature there
with content.
Arriving home from the hunt, he
gives the game into the charge of his
wife, strips off the iced-up clothiug in
which he has been dressed, gets into the
dry garments that await him, and sits
down to dinner. Moreover, if ho has
been unusually successful, ho will invar
iably invite his friends to come in and
eat with him. In times of plenty, but
especially in times of want, the Eskimo
who has killed his seal expects his friends
to join him at dinner. Here they sit
down on the floor, on benches, and on
the piatiorm that serves as a bed, nnd,
passing the soup and the meat, cat with
appetites horn of perfect digestion. This
done the hostess clears away the debris,
a large piece of frozen meat (if it be win
ter) is placed with a knife where it will
be easily reached by them all, and then
the tobacco pouches and pipes or snuff
horns arc produced.
The Eskimos, like other native Amer
icans, are gamblers by nature; but, un
like the red Indian, they never impover
ish themselves by their games. Cards
they either do not care for or else they
have been frightened out of the use of
them by the missionaries, but dominoes,
checkers and even chess, are played with
a skill that at least equals the best of the
white men who visit them. These games,
of course, have been learned of the
whites. As a matter of fact they are not
so popular as the old-fashioned games
originated among themselves.
One of the most interesting of the na
tive games may be called a cross between
jackstones and dice. It is particularly
interesting to the ethnologist, because
the implements of the game show the ar
tistic irstinct .and skill of their maker.
Taking pieces of the tusks of the walrus
the artisan carves them into the shape of
such objects in nature as he is most fa
miliar with. Seals, ducks, gulls, foxes
and men and women are imitated, the
figures being from an inch to an inch
and a quarter long. Each figure is made
so that it will stand upright on a firm
base wheu properly placed on a level
surface. The game consists in taking a
score or less of these figures in the hands
and tossing them in the air. Those
alighting and remaining upright
are retained by the one who tosses
them and the one who gets the greatest
number of the whole set wins. Although
it is a game of chance some Eskimos arc
more successful than others, and it is
said that instances where the whole set
bus been captured at a single throw are
known. To the unaccustomed spectator
the interest and excitement of the gam
blers are more diverting than the game it
self,although it is by no means a had game.
There is nothing stolid about the Eski
mo gambler. He grows more find more
excited as the game proceeds, and finally
howls with delight when he wins, whil*
the rest howl in sympathy with his howl
ing.
The losses can never amount to a mat
ter of consequence, because only one man
can lose anything and but one win in the
whole evening’s gambling. The first
winner, curiously enough, must put up a
stake—usually a weapon or a household
implement. This goes to the next win
ner, who in turn must give it or an
equivalent to the third, aud he to the
fourth, and so on until the end of the
play, when the last winner keeps it.
Even supposing one man to win every i
night for a month, he could not, under I
the Eskimo system of society, impoverish
his neighbors, for, except his kayak,
sled, clothing, and one good outfit of
weapons, the Eskimo does not own any
thing absolutely. He may win all the
harpoons in the settlement, bat he would
not think of depriving any one of the use
of such a weapon. Tho Eskimo who has
no harpoon borrows of him who has an
extra one. If the lender had more than
two there would be no probability of
tho borrowed weapon being returned.
There is nothing surprising about this,
however, for no man can use three har
poons, and a. second is ample for a re
serve in case of the loss of one.
As map makers the Eskimos are un
questionably superior to the white sailors
with whom they come in contact, and
they are very fond of such work as a
pastime. They can delineate any coast
with which they arc familiar so faithfully
that according to tho whalers a ship can
be navigated safely by their charts.
Next to gambling, tho Eskimo men
like to wrcstl;. The usual way of doing
this is a test rather of strength than skill.
The wrestlers sit down on the floor or in
sny convenient place side by side, and
facing in opposite directions, say with
their risht elbqwsjouchiiur. Then thev
iock arms, ana each strives to strafg'Bten
out the other's arm. As the match it
usually made bare-armed, they not in
frequently peel up the skin in the strug
gle. In the old days, wheu a stranger
arrived at a settlement, he wm invited
to wreitle in soma way with « villager,
and the winner was allowed to khl the
loser, if he chose to do so.
If less exciting, story telling 1* really
ahhost as common for an evening’a di
version as gambling. The Eskimo tra-
d'Uors .are told over and over again.
EVcry onh-kno-.vs them word for word,
.•uni should tne relater omit or add a
♦ ir-He syllable he would be corrected in-
“tunily by some one of tie audience.
There is nothing like these recitals In
America, except in the work, so called,
of certain secret societies, where pre
cisely the some care in repetition is exer
cised. The relater of the story sits at,
one side of the room, and covering his
head, turns his face toward the wall
away from the audience before he be
gins. There is no applause during the
recital nor when he is finished.
The native songs can scarce be called
musical, though the Eskimo voice is
naturally sweet and fine. Tho native
tunes arc monotonous chants, but the
Eskimos readily learn the tunes of the
whites. In Arsuk village were two good
violins, three or four concertinas, and
some French harmonicas, most of them
out of order, but tho skill of the owners
of those that were in order was equal tc
that of the best musician to be found at
rural dances in Yankee land. The Eski
mos, old and young, dance with a zest
and abandon that is inspiring to the
spectator.
Men and boys play ball, and the two
games most popular if combined would
not vary greatly from Yankee football.
The ball is made of stout seal leather,
filled sometimes with sand and clay and
sometimes with moss. It is sewed up
with seal sinews, and is sometimes orna
mented with tints or tassels nnd a zone
made of strings of seal leather wilh the
hair on. The players divide into two
parties always—choose up, as Yankee
boys would say. Then in one game one
side tosses the ball about while the other
tries to capture it; in the other, one side-
tries to kick the ball over a wide space
to a goal, while the other rises to capture
and hit the goal with it instead. Some
times they bat it ia tho latter game in
stead of kicking it.
Over on the west side of Baffin’s Bay
the Eskimos have in winter a house in
every village set aside for feasts and
dances. It is dome-shaped and about
twenty feet in diameter by fifteen high.
Here the entire populace gathers. The
murried women stand in a row next to
the wall, the unmarried women stand
next to them, while the men form a third
ring inside of the rest. The children,
or all who arc under twelve years, form
two groups near the entrance. Then the
feast begins, and boiled meat and soup,
with raw seal liver, are passed around as
long as any one can cat. This done, a
man strips to the waist, takes a drum
made something like a tennis bat covered
with raw seaianin, and stepping into the
centre of the ring, begins to sing nnd
dance aud heat the drum. The words of
the song are improvised by the singer,
and are usually satirical. He praises
first one then another of the company for
good qualities that are noticeably lack
ing, to the great delight of all the rest,
though they know that they will he
scored if they have not already been.
The dancing is simply a stamping of the
feet and a swaying of the body—the mo
tion is ridiculous to any one not an
Eskimo. The women join in the chorus,
but the men listen in silence.
The Eskimo women have two very
curious ways of diverting themselves.
One is by throwing various sorts of loops
with a string, after tho manner ol the
cat’s cradle of Yankee children. The
other is by making faces. When the
men are away hunting seals the women
not infrequently gather in one hut, where
nil but one work at sewing, while the one
sits in the middle of the floor and screws
her face into every sort of grotesque
shape possible. The women are also ex
perts in skipping the rope, after the
fashion of Yankee school girls; but they
have a way of swinging the rope so that
two standing side by side alternately
jump it—a feat that would test the skill
of tho Yankee rope swingers.—New Yorl
Sun.
The Paper in the World.
According t,» the Paper World, the
total number of existing paper mills is
put at 3985, with an annual production
of 1,055,000 tons of paper, made from
all kinds of material. No less than 90,-
000 men, and twiec that number of
women and children, are employed in
this industry, while the capital invested
is over $300,000,000. The annual con
sumption of the paper made is thus
divided:
MISSING CARS.
TRACING LOST ROLLING-STOCK
ON OUR RAILROADS.
l\>!4 (I*.
Newspapers, daily
408,000,000
Newspapers, weekly ami
monthly
080,000,000
Books
150,000,000
Total, printed matter
1,038,000,000
For school it ,
180,01X1,000
For public offices
1<K),000,000
For correspondence
oao.ooo.ooo
For mercantile records
120,000,000
For wrapping paper
450,000,000
For paplsr-maclie, etc.
300,000,000
Total
8,858,000,000
Missing Railroad CAacbe* Found
Side-Tracked in the Backwoods,
With Families Living In Them
—A Record Bureau.
All of the great railroad Unet have en
tered into a mutual agreement by which
every company it responsible for all the
cars, shipped over ite tracks. If the
Pennsylvania sends iron over the Jersey
Central, the latter road becomes respon
sible for car and freight as soon as it re
ceives them, and unless both are deliv
ered the Jersey Central makes good the
loss. The cars are either replaced or
paid for at the cost price, less a sup
posed depreciation of six per cent, in
value for every year that the ear has been
in use. With old cars the latter method
generally is adopted,as it is often cheap
er than repairing.
All railroads try to use their own cai*
as much as possible, and it might be
added that they also endeavor to use the
cars of other roads as much as possible
also. A charge of three-fourths of a cent
is made for every mile covered by a
freight car traveling over a road that,
does not belong to the owner of the car.
These mileage charges amount to large
sums in the cours<' of a year. The bills
of the New York Central for this one
item are from •?75,00t) to $125,000 a
month. Practically, this method works
like a great dealing house, as the ac
count against the New York Centra! is
more than balanced by its own charges
for cars used by other lines. Other rail
roads in lact pay the New York Central
for the use of its cars tbout $40,000 a
month more than the Central pays them.
“Our cars are seldom lost,” said an
officer of the New York Central Road
yesterday, “since the present system of
tracing cars went into operation, about
four years ago. In the old days we
sometimes thought we had lost passenger
coaches. We even lost sight for several
months of the car in which President
Lincoln’s remains were taken to Spring-
field for burial. We traced the car as
far as Syracuse and there lost it. Some
body thought ho remembered that it hail
been run onto a side track to a gravel
bed, but he did nqt remember having
seen it afterward. Several months later
an Elmira newspaper said that the fa
mous car in which President Lincoln’s
body was taken to Illinois was running
between that, city and Corning.”
A well known railroad man told an
other story of a lost car. No tiace
could he found of it beyond a junction in
the iron regions of Pennsylvania. Finally
this officer became so interested that he
determined to investigate the case per
sonally. He went to the (own where the
ear had been seen last aud followed a
disused and grass grown (rack some dis
tauce in the country. After a prolonged
search, he discovered the car with a stove
pipe projecting from the roof and other
signs of habitation. He found a family
in possession, hut evicted them without
attempting to collect back rents, and
says that ho believes the coach to he still
in use on a country road to which it was
sold several years after its discovery in
the wilds of Pennsylvania.
The Pennsylvania road lost an entire
train in the Johnstown flood. It was a
minor incident m the great disaster, but
it cost the officers of the road consider-
crahlc trouble until they could determine
from their records just what cars had
disappeared. The Philadelphia and Read
ing recently had a similar experience
through the sweeping away of a bridge at
Wilkcsbarre. Among the ears lost was
one belonging to the New York Central,
which, with its contents, had to be paid
for.
Every groat railroad, like the New
York Central, the Pennsylvania, the
Baltimore &, Ohio and the Delaware,
Lackawanna A, Western, maintains a
record bureau, which keeps so strict a
watch upon its freight cars that the pre
cise location of any given ear may ho
known at any given time. Tho cars be
longing to the railroad itself are entered
in a large hook, ruled so that a daily
record ot the movements of from twenty-
five to fifty cars maybe kept for a month
on a single page. What arc called for
eign cars, that is, cars belonging to other
companies, arc recorded in another book,
ruled in such a manner that the numbers
nnd initials of the ears may be recorded.
As the conductors’ reports are received
they arc checked oil on the record hooks
of the home office until every ear has
been acounted for. A second set of re
ports is also received from stations at
junctions with other roads, showing the
transfers of empty nnd loaded cars with
the line, number and initials of each. If
the cars are loaded, the contents, tho
name of the shipper, and the consignee,
are also matters of record. All station
agents submit to the car accountant at
the main office a record of the cars loaded
and unloaded at their stations, from mid
night to midnight. In fact, the car ac
countant practically lias a daily report of
the location and condition of every
freight car in the service of the road. Of
course, the passenger system is tho sub
ject of even more careful record.—Not
York World.
mi
A “temple ofTBe arts" at Washington
is to occupy 150 acres and cost $5,000,-
000.
r
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