Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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. 'V.' ‘'ma ■ f, -^•r ‘ IP THE HERALD. VOL. IV. DARLIN GTON, S. C., FRIDAY, JULY 27, 1894. NO. 34. MIRAGE. With milk-white dome and minaret Most fair my Promised City shone; Beside a pnrple river set The waving palm trees beckoned on. O yon, I said, most be my goal No matter what the danger be, The chosen haven of my soul, How hard soe’er the penalty. The goal is gained—the journey done— Yet naught is here but sterile space, But whirling sand and burning sun, And hot winds blowing in my face. —[Graham R. TomsoU, in Scribner. tm w. A dark night, and the sky hidden by a moss of hurrying ^louda. A raw, chilly wind, the ground ajl mud, the tall grass and trees dripping from heavy rains. Just emerging in to a dark cornfield from still darker woods, a young man, his clothing drenched and mud-stained, his face haggard and desperate, and his whole attitude as he leaned heavily against the rail fence telling of utter ex haustion. He was worn out. For more than two hours he had been flying for life over a country imper fectly known to him, though familiar to hiifijtlriUtedR 1 \ TuHhwMsh *W»yhfc would, Gilbert Hazelton could see nothing before him but speedy and disgraceful death. Never to see the sun again, nay, not oven a friendly face I x Was thja-Gie end of the bright hopes with which he had kissed his mother good- by only two short months before. He had been accused of murder, tried for his life, found guilty and sentenced to death. His letter to his friends «pst have, miscarried, for , tboy had riot come tb his relief. Poor ifMd alone among strangers, who per il fete** belicting him identical with *tho tramp who had murdered poor David Westford, Gilbert had yet fought bravely for his life. Some few had been convinced of his innocence, and his lawyer had succeeded in ob taining a new trial, in which now witnesses might at least prove an alibi. But when this word went abroad, the townspeople were furious. They had seen more than one undoubted criminal escape through some tech nicality. Were they now to see the murderer of poor David Westford escape through the easily bought per jury of some worthless companions in crime? They vowed it should not be. Last night at dusk groups of stern-looking men stood before the jail talking grimly together, and a whisper in the air warned the Sheriff what was coming. The jail was old and rickety. He could not defend it, and his resolve was quickly taken. In the early dusk the prisoner was sent out by a side door, under charge of the Sheriff’s son, while the Sheriff him self remained to make sure mob violence did not make a mistake and seize some other victim. But treach- ,ery yrripd the word to the mob, ! and tfieySweye spon in hot pursuit of thq ffgj|t|ve£. In this emergency the boy, who was firmly convinced of the prisoner’s innocence, released him, demanding only a promise to rejoin him at a place appointed, and him self turned back to throw the pur suers off the trail if possible. Gil bert fully intended to k ep his pro mise, but in the darkm ! he missed his way, and the bloodhounds In the rear caught his trail. Now for two hours, which seemed two eternities, he had been running for life, and the unknown country and horrible mud had completely ex hausted the little strength that two month|| of confinement and terrible anxWltfd Wfi him. Nothing but utt&><&agjeAgt r>& <could h^ve driven ! w .hea a shout carntTfSIntiy rromjthe rear he pushed forward with a great effort across the strip of cornfield, through the fence, and out on a well-travelled road. To one less utterly worn out this would have given a glimmer of hope, for here at least the mud had become liquid ooze, which retained no foot print. The pursuers would not know which way to turn, and must watch both roadsides to see that he did not turn aside. But ho was too tired to use the advantage, and when, after running a few rods he slipped and fell, ho lay there a full minute, too utterly exhausted to rise. . A farmhouse stood a quarter of a difo faA-lh^r bn * afcd as he lay there pfcrftfog/eklaMslecf, waiting only for death to overtake him, his hopeless glances fell upon its light. And then he suddenly scrambled to his feet, resolved to make one last effort for life. He would struggle on to the farmhouse, and appeal to -the quiet family circle. It took all the strength this last faint hope gave him to carry him to the gate and up the cinder wa'k, whose hard, dark surface would be tray no footstep. Yet his heart failed as he reached the door, and leaned, utterly exhausted against the door post. The window was but a step away. He crept to it and looked between the curtains. A plain, neat farm house kiteken, and two women, evi dently mother jsnd daughter, sitting JtAle before the fire, the he* lewjng, the daughter reading ■<k iNqonb fee in sight, yet Gil- kfeua A stnothired gasp and fell back in despair. “David Westford’* mother and sis ter 1 That settles it!" He had seen both faces at the trial —the elder, sad and patient under Its silvery hair; the younger pure, pale clear-clear-cut, thrown Into strong relief by the dark eyes, long let lashes and heavy black braids. He stood there •till hopeless and helpless, when there came a break in the clear voice within. The girl had ceased reading. He looked in and saw her pick Up a pitcher and come toward the doof. A tnbment more abd she had come out, all un conscious of the man so near, gone straight to the pump, on which the lamplight ehonc, and was filling her pitcher. Nerved by desperation, Gil bert stepped toward her. “I will appeal to her. Why should n’t I? 1 did not kill her brother, She may pity me. She Is a woman and they are half Quakers have heard," he muttered an; aloud, “Miss Westford, help for God’s slke.” The clanking of the pump ceased. The girl looked arpund with a startled air. "Who spoke?" she demanded. “A fugitive, utterly exhauster with flight from a bloodthirsty mob. They are close at heels. I can’t go farther, and I am doomed unless you have pity and give me help, or con cealment.” “ Who are you?” she inquired, and with a dreadful sinking at his heart be gave his name, " Gilbert Hazel- ton." She uttered a sharp cry and looked away where the distant lanterns were gleaming through the cornfield—the pursuers on his track. “I must ask mother," she said, and snatching up her pitcher swept post him into the house. He heard her quick voice, and Mrs. Westford’s startled outcry, and in very desperation followed her in. The old mother mot him, white- hnlred and venerable. “So thee can seek shelter here, of David West- ford’s bereaved mother ? " she said, bitterly, wonderingly. “Why not ? I never harmed you er him," he urged desperately. “As true as there is a heaven above us, I am Innocent of what ia laid to my charge. It will bo proved when my friends come; But that will be too late unless you help ma.” ‘-But I do not know it now,” Mrs. Westford wavered. “ Thee speaks fair, but dp not all criminals do the same ? A trial was given thee and thy innocence was not proved. Why should I save the murderer of my boy?” Gilbert fell into a chair too ex hausted to stand. “You will know when it is too late if you refuse me aid. Madam will you risk it ?—risk feeling that you have saved an inno cent man, but instead let him go to his death ? " “Ernestine,” cried the old mother, piteously, “wlint ought we to do ? How can wo risk a lifelong remorse, or how can we risk letting David’s murderer go free to break other hearts as ours are broken ? What does thee say ? " The girl stood in the open door,her glances alternating between the pleading face of the fugitive and the lanterns coming along the roadside. “We must decide quickly,mother,” and her clear voice quivered with feeling. “Ho may be innocent. It hardly seems as though a guilty man would come herr —to David’s home —for shelter. And if we are acces sory to his death—mother, it is mur der for them to take the law into their own unauthorized hands. Our choice lies between one man, who may or may npt be a murderer, and a score who will surely be if we do not hinder.” “Then thee says save him?” Mrs. Westford asked, doubtfully. “I dare not refuse it, mother. Do you?” The old lady hesitated, then, open ing a corner cupboard, took out a pair of handcuffs—relics of the days when David had been deputy sheriff and earned the enmity of tramps and evildoers—and held them towards Gilbert. “If thee will put these on, that we may have no fear from thy violence when the mob are gone, we will con ceal thee safely, and when the search is over sonJ thee back to thy lawful guardian. That is all. I cannot place myself and my daughter at the mercy of one who may liave none. Will thee consent?” She was only prudent. Gilbert bowed silently and extended his hands. It was his only chance for life, and it would be the height of folly to object. Yet a faint color came Into his face as the cold steel snapped on his wrists, rendering him helpless—yet scarcely more so than fatigue had already made him. The hesitation of both was over now. Ernestine bade him remove his muddy shoes, while she swiftly closed the door and drew down the blinds, and the mother hurried into another room. Thither Ernestine beckoned him to follow, pausing only to thrust the shoes out of sight. At the door she turned. “It is David’s room,” looking keenly in his face. “Como ini” It was a small, plainly furnished room. Mrs. Westford had drawn ine bed from the wall and thrown back the last breadth of carpet, re vealing a tiny trap-door. At his en trance she opened it, and motioned him down. “It is only four feet. You can drop that far,” said Ernestine en couragingly. “There is no outer door. You will be quite safe.” Her mother smiled sadly. “How many frightened fugitives have slept there in safety! But that was years ago—before the war. Thee need not fear. Now—but stay, thee must be faint. I will bring thee food ard drink. She hurried away, and he swung himself down. It was not very easy, with his manacled hands, and Ernest- tine helped him. His heart thrilled at the touch of her cold, trembling fingers. “She shrinks from my touch. She thinks my hand stained with her brother’s blood," he thought bit terly. But another glance at tho pure, pale face relieved him. She was listening anxiously, and said with hurried kihuhesftj “There is an old Ded thei'e. thhk, Vkile t bold the light dowii. There i EVfeH .hhlf an hour’s rest will help you. But you must eat and rest in the dark, for this cellar extends under the kitchen, which is carpetless, and has cracks it) the floofi Here comes mother.” Very hurriedly Mrs. Westford passed the well-filled dish and pitcher to him, reporting the tnob almost before the house; “CoVet lip, quickly| Ernestine, I am going to wake Harry. ,, That was her youngest son, still sleeping soundly upstairs. She hurried away, and Ernestine quickly lowered the trap-door and pushed back the bed; Shut down in the darktilstf; Gilbert groped his way to the old bed, and sank down on it In utter exhaustion. He heard the girl’s quick step, the closing door, the louder steps directly overhead, and a slender spur of lamplight came down through a crack. She was back in the kltcheU —and there were stern voices in distinctly to be heard without. Er nestine heard them more plainly, and stood with clasped hands and pale face, praying silently,-but oh, so earnestly, that the innocent, If he were innocent, might be saved, when her young brother came rushing down stars just as there came thun dering knocks at the door. Mrs. Westford had told him no more than that a crowd of men with lanterns were approaching, and it was in perfect good faith that he flung open the door and angrily demanded their business. They soon satisfied him. “The tramp that murdered your brother Is at large, and wo are hunt ing for him. We have looked all up and down the road, Ipr we know he came this way, and It looks mightily as if he had slipped Into your prem ises and hidden somewhere. Your folks will have no objection to our searching, I reckon?” “Not a bit. I don’t think he would stop here, but if he did I hope you’ll catch him and hang him to the near est tree,” the boy answered fiercely. The fugitive, plainly hearing every word, shuddered, but he had no idea how many times that old house hod been searched in vain for hunted souls, or he would not have feared. The out buildings and premises were thoroughly searched, while Ernestine and her mother looked on with pale, quiet faces and wildly heating hearts, and the fugitive lay and listened in the darkness. Then the men rode on, grumbling and cursing the Sheriff for letting the prisoner escape. Silence settled on the old farm house, and Gilbert actually fell into a light doze, from which Mrs. West- ford’s soft call aroused him. Half asleep, he made his way to the trap door and was helped np. Ernestine, in-cloak and hat, stood waiting. “Mother thinks it best that you should be back in safety before day break," she said simply. “I can drive you over very soon.” “I hate to let thee go, dear,” her mother said anxiously. It is only for an hour, mother," reassured the girl; “and we can hardly trust Harry. He is only a boy and so impetuous and titter.” Mrs. Westford sighed. “It seems to be a duty—and surely our Fathei will not let thee suffer for doing thy duty. Well, go. My prayers shall go with thee. But be careful, child.” The light wagon and bay pony stood at the door. The prisoner was helped into the back seat and Ernestine sprang in before. The big watch dog followed at her call and cnrled up under her seat, and Gilbert felt that however kindly these women might feel they were not disposed to run any useless risks. “Good-by, mother. Don’t fret,” was Ernestine’s parting word, and Mrs. Westford’s earnest “May God protect thee” showed her uneasiness; Yet she added a kindly word to the prisoner, “And may He bring out the truth? I hope we shall see thee free before ail the world right speedily.” Then they drove away in the dark ness. Ernestine spoke little; her heart beat too fast. She half apolo gized for taking the dog. “The roads would be so lonely coming back," an apology which he readily accepted. Could he resent her prudence when she had given him his life? But he could not help being intensely thankful that the dog had been asleep in the barn when he ap proached. Their trip was about half done when lanterns gleamed ahead, and wheels and voices were heard ap proaching. “The mob!” was his first thought, and Ernestine whis pered hurriedly, “Down under your seat till they pass!” then with a sad den joyful change in tone and man ner, “Oh, It is the Sheriff! Thank heavens 1” The Sheriff it was, looking anxious ly for his charge, but with little hope of ever seeing him again alive. Ern estine turned quickly. “Your wrists, please," and the manacles fell off. “There! You need not tell that part unless you wish. It was only—but you under stand. Mother had a right to be cautious, you know.” And then the Sheriff was hailing them, and as much surprised as de lighted to find his prisoner in such hands. The transfer was soon made, and with a kindiy word of farewell, Ernestine hastened back to her anx ious mother. At the new trial Gilbert Hazelton had no difficulty in proving hfoown identity and was triumphantly ac quitted. Of all the warm handclasps and congratulations ho received, none Ijave him more pleasure than those of Mrs. Westford and her daughter. • “You must come and see us,” Skid Washing. “I know we were not over-polite to you, mother and I; but come again, and you will find that we can bo civil.” And he did come—not once, but. mahy tlmes-HMld at last earned sWfetlt Ernestine away as his bride. —[Overland Monthly, THE JOKER’S BUDGET* JESTS AND YARNS BY FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS. HOW MATCHES ARE MADE. —■ - - fe Not Matrimonial Ones, but Those Mgda ta Bum. The wood tiaed it) the manufacture of matches la priWdtMdfy white pop lar,- aspen and yellow pine, Ih the United States white pine is used al most exclusively. It burns freely, steadily, slowly, constant fy and with a good volume of flame. The Wood is soft, straight gfain, easily worked, and its light weight is of no small consequence in the matter of trans portation chafges, which SM usually higli on combustible articles. For the best grade of matches the choicest quality of cork pino is used, a variety of white pine, the trees be ing large and well matured. The Diamond Match Company about twelve years ago secured hundreds of millions of feet of choice standing cork pine timber on the waters of the Ontonagon Kiver in the upper penin sula of Michigan. This company now cuts annually Upward of 80,000,000 feet of this timber, but this is by no means all that is used in tho mnllU* facture of matches in this country. Millions of feet more of choice white pine timber are bought every year and made into matches by a number of factories under the control of this corporation. In Sweden the method of manu facture is as follows: The timber Is cut into blocks about fifteen Inches long and and placed in a lathe. With each revolution a slice -or veneer is peeled off the thickness required for the match sticks, while at tho same time eight small knives cut the slice into seven pieces, like ribbons and of the length required for tho sticks. These ribbons are then broken into lengths of six to Veven feet, knotty and (’efective pieces are removed and the ribbons are then fed through a machine which cuts them into piecqs like a straw cutter, these then pass ing through an automatically arrang ed machine with cutters, which slices off as many pieces, the thickness re quired for a match, as there are cut ters. One machine will turn out from 5,000,000 to 10,000,000 match splints a day. In this country choice, clear two, three and four inch planks are used, also pieces from tho ends of planks and timbers, edgings and other suit able parts of the log not utilized. These are cut the required length and sliced or split by machinery adapted for the purpose. After pass ing through these machlnos the match splints are dried In heated re volving drums, during which process tho loose splinters clinging to tho splints are separated. They are then placed in a sieve and sifted, an operation which finally places the sticks in parallel order so that they can be conveniently bundled, after which they are ready for the dipping operation. The head of each stick, to be thor oughly dipped or covered, must bo separated from the others, tliut no danger shall ensue from ignition, as would be done if they came in con tact with the inflammable material used in the coating. The sticks are separated by machinery and placed each by itself in a dipping frame, which is fitted in a movable lathe, and a number of these lathes are placed on a machine. One person can arrange with one of the machines nearly 1,500,000 splints in a day. The splints are then heated so as to more readily absorb paraffin, which is confined in its molten state in shal low pans. The first dipping covers tho head of the match sticks with the paraffin preparation; by tho second operation it is covered with the igniting com position, different devices being used for this purpose. A competent per son will dip 8,000,000 matches in a day. After the lust dipping the frames containing the matches are placed in a heated room, that the ig niting composition may be dried. They are then removed from this room and packed In boxes ready for shipment.—[Chicago Journal of Com merce. Neat of a Troo Ant. The nests of an extraordinary tree ant are cunningly wrought with leaves, united together with web. One was observed in New South Wales in the expedition under Capt. Cook. The leaves utilized were as broad as one’s hand, and were bent and glued to each other at their tips. How the insects manage to bring the leaves into the required position was never ascertained, but thousands wore seen uniting their strength to hold them down, while other busy multitudes were employed within in applying the gluten that was to pre vent them returning back. The ob- se-vers, to satisfy themselves that the foliage was indeed incurvated and held in this form by the efforts of the ants, disturbed the builders at their work, and as soon as they were driven away the leaves sprang up with a force much greater than it would have been deemed possible for such laborers to overcome by any combin ation of strength. The more com pact and elegant dwelling (E. vires- cens is made of leaves, cut and mast icated until they become a coarse pulp. Its diameter is about six Inches; it is suspended among thick est foliage, and sustained not only by the branches on which it hangs but by the loaves, which are worked iut< the composition and in many parU project from its outer wall.—[Popular Science Monthly. Dissipation - - Kitchen Mystery Solved • •Tho Increase of Wisdom.-Tho Worm had Turned ..Eto. Eto. niBsrPATiov. “I don’t knoww.hat I’m going to io about my husband,” said the cwl, with a sob. “What’s the matter?” asked the sympathetic nightingale. “His habits arc getting something dreadful. Tills is the second time this yrsek that he has been up all day.” KITCHEN MYSTERY SOLVED. Mrs. Nuwed—Bridget, why do my dishes disappear so rapidly? Bfidffet—Sluirc, ma’am, its beknse they’re breakfast dishes, I’m afther thinkin’.—[Truth. THE INCREASE OF WISDOM. It Is not until a man reaches thirty that he begins to wrap the small bills 01) the outside of his roll. —[Texas Siftings. THE WORM HAD TURNED. “Have you been reading about the Stem on the face of the sun?” asked the landlady of the meek boarder ns she put the cream otlt of his reach. “No’m. I’ve all I can do to watch the storms on tho face of the daugh ter,” he responded sadly.—[Detroit Free Press. CONSCIENTIOUS. The Victim—How many times am I going to marry? The Sibyl—Only eight times, mad am. I would like to make It more but I must go by the cards.— [Truth. CATCHING HIS MOTHER. Little Clarence Callipers—Mamma, what is the host thing' for a boy to do when ho wears his trousers out? Mrs. Callipers—Get a now pair, I suppose. Clarence—No, mamma; wear thdtti home again. WHY HE STOLE A KISS FROM HER. She (shyly)—Do you believe that stolen kisses are sweetest? He—I don’t know; I never stole one. She—Well, the first time you steal one, let me know.* He—Ah, but whore shall I steal one? She (with a far away look in her eyes)—-Oh, I don’t know. I dare say there are plenty of chances, and when you see one you should at once take advantage of it.—[New York Press. THE VALUE OF A COLLEGE EDUCATION. “Dearest,” said she, “suppose a bull should attack us as wo arc cross ing this pasture what would you do?” “ThaUs an awful queer question, Mabel. You forget I was the great est sprinter Yale ever had.”—1 Adams Freeman. LASTED A LONG TIME. Willis—When my wife makes mo a present it is sure to be something that will Inst. Wallace—My wife is just like her. Five years ago she made mo n present of one hundred cigars, and I have ninety-nine of them yet.—[Life. EXPENSE. His hair rippled away from his brow and the true poetic fire shone in ills eyes, although he was as yet head salesman in a shoe store. “Sir,” he exclaimed dramatically, “dear as your daughter is to me now, I feel that she will be yet dearer.” The old man gazed upon his son-in- law in pity. “My boy,” he rejoined, “I should hasten to cackle. You just wait until her trousseau is worn out. Dear? Well, rather? The youth stood transfixed in a hypnosis of horror.—[Detroit Tri bune. LEATHER THEN. Dealer—“You say you used to be in the shoe business. Whao do you think of these?” Customer (looking at the sample) —“I can’t say. You see, they only made shoes out of leather in my time.—[Boot and Shoe Recorder. HONORED AND SLIGHTED. She wore his flowers, did the maiden g»y. That had cost him dollars ten; She wore his flowers, hut, nlackuday. She danced with other men.—[Now York Press. INTENTIONS. “Dora,” said her mother to tho summer girl, “isn’t that young Mr. Smithers getting very pronounced in his attentions!” “Oh, that’s all right, mamma,” said Dora. “He doesn’t mean any thing. We’re engaged.”—[Chicago Record. BOTH IN THE CAT FAMILY. “What kind of vessel is (hat?” asked the young Indy, pointing to a passing craft. “That is a catboat,” replied tho person interrogated. “How funny 1” exclaimed the art less maiden. “And I suppose,” she added, “the little one behind it is a kitten boat." HE BECAME UNEASY. Prof. Stone—To tho geologist a thousand years or so are not counted as anything at all. Man in the Audience—Groat Scott! And to think that I made a tempo rary loan of $10 to n man who holds such views!—[Indianapolis Journal. A HABIT. Maude—You’d better be on the lookout for a proposal from Charley Doodley. Ellen—Why? Has he expressed his affection for me? Maude—No, but he proposed to me last night and I refused him.—[Chi cago Record. THE FATE HE ESCAPED. Henpeck (looking up from his newspaper, to his wife)—Hero’s a man who escaped a pitiful fate. (Reading) “While on his way to Gec- ville last evening, Hiram Green’s horse ran away, throwing Green from the wagon and breaking his s-'k ” Mrs. Henpeck—And you call that escaping a pitiful fate? Henpeck—Yes. (Reading) "Green was on his way to Gecville to be mar ried.—[Browning’s Monthly. THEY HAD MET. Judge (sternly)—Your face is very familiar. Have you been in this court before? Prisoner—No, sir; but I’m a bar tender at the Farandon Hotel.—[Life HIS EXACT WORDS. Jess—What did papa say when you asked him? Jack—Not much. Jess—But what was it? Jack—Just that, “Not much.” BRIGHT BOY. “Johnny,” said a teacher in one of the up-town public schools, “have you seen the skeleton of the mam moth in the Museum of Natural His tory?" “Yes, mum,’- “To what kind of an animal does it belong?” “A dead one.”—[Texas flirtings. WASN’T Ah STOUT AS BEFORE. Meandering Moses—Are them Lie same clothes you had on last week? Itinefiint Ike—Yes. M. M.—They don’t seem to fit you as well as they did. They hang more loose. I. I.—I’ve had a bath since then. —[New York Press. A LITTLE MISUNDERSTANDING. Teacher—What is the difference between tv long ton and a short ton? Observing Boy—Tlie weight of the driver.—[Good News. A RUSE THAT FAILED. He—Do dreams go by contraries? She—They do. He—Always? She—Always. He—Then I dreamed last night that I proposed to you and you said “No.” She—Then, to show you that dreams go by contraries, if you were to propose to me now I would not say “No.” He—You wouldn’t? She—I wouldn’t I would say, “I’ll be a sister to you.” HIS HAPPY MOMENT. New arrival (to Subdued Looking Man in the hotel office)—You are the cWk of this hotel, I suppose, sir? Subdued Looking Man—Oh, you flatter me, sir I I am only the pro prietor 1 ' NOT NOTICEABLE. Miss Summit—I don’t think I ever saw you looking so well. Miss Palisade—Really? Miss Summit—Yes, indeed. I was remarking to your mother yesterday that I didn’t think you had faded a bit in the last ten years.—[New York Herald. NOT ALWAYS A DRAWBACK. “Isn’t it a nuisance to have a treacherous memory?” “Not always. Some days ago my wife told me not to forget to call tho veterinary physician for her poodle or it would die. I forgot.”—[Chicago Record. ABSENT-MINDED. Miss Wouldbe—By the way, have you seen Mr. Dropoff of late? Arthur Duncan—About two days ago. Miss Wouldbe—Well,If you see him again, would you kindly remind him of the fact that we are engaged?— [Ledger. NOT LOADED. “Kmpp’s is the biggest cannon «>vcr made, isn’t it?” “Yes, and the earth is the largest revolver.” AN ASTUTE SALESMAN. “Got any cow bells?” asked a Texas farmer, stepping into a hard ware store in Dallas. “Yes; step this way.” “Those are too small. Haven’t you any larger?” asked the farmer, after he had inspected some small cow bells. “No sir all the largest one are sold.” Rusticus started off and got as far ns the door, when the clerk called after him: “Look hero, stranger, take one of these bells for your cow, and you won’t have half the trouble in find ing her, for when you hear her bell you will always know she can’t be far off. If you were to buy a big bell that can be heard a long distance, you would have to walk yourself to death finding the cow.” The farmer bought the bell.— [Texas Siftings. Punished Alter Thirty-Eight Years. \ Here is a story of the merciless se verity of the Russian law, which has gained currency in London. More than thirty-eight years ago Ivan Ry- koff, an eighteen-year-old boy, got drunk, and, entering a church, stole the wax candles from the altar and sold them to continue his spree. He waa arrested and condemned to the mines ol Siberia for sacrilege. After a time he managed to effect his escape, and through many hardships and dangers made his way to Tomsk, where was befriended by a farmer, and, securing the passport of a deceased laborer, he married and prospered. His story he carefully concealed until a few weeks ago, deeming all danger past, he re lated his experiences at a family re union. It was but ten days afterward when a police officer entered his bed room early one morning, and arrested him on the charge of being an escaped Siberian convict. He was brought to trial, anil in court made a full con fession, thi owing himself on the mercy of the court. It is an attribute that that court does not seem to possess. He was sentenced to be severely, knouted and sent back to the mines for a period twice as long as that to which he was sentenced as a boy.— Picayune. , *’ The title i\as a great deal to do with the popularity of a book. An English novel, in the early days of the century, found no readers when announced as the “Champion of Virtue,’’ but imme diately became popular as the “Old English Baron.” Xiost year Egypt sent ffffTC tons or cane sugar to France, and it would ap pear as if Egyptian sugar would soon become a factor to be reckoned with in the markets of the world. THE LABOR WORLD. New York has 600 unions. London police get *6 a week. Ikon moulders now use a label. France has female farm laborers. Detroit, Mich., bos a Pastor's Union. - Syracuse, N. Y., has a labor lyeeum. Co-operative potteries are increasing. Allegheny (Penn.) police have a union. The French working day is eight hours long. Ireland’s linen industry employs 100,000 persons. Chicago painters and decorators work eight hours.' 8r. Louis, Mo., carpenters get thirty-live cents an hour. Housemaids in England receive on average of seventy-five cents a week. In a Mt. Carmel (Penn.) coal mine only one native American is employed. A pldmber in St. Petersburg, Russia, is paid (12 a month, with board; abaker (9.60. Thbee thousand iron smelters were thrown out of work at Butte, Montana, because of the strike. Oerman Postofffco employes are not per mitted to marry without the speolal permis sion of the Qovernmeut. i Six hundred custom tailors went on strike In New York City, in opposition to an at tempted reduction of ten per cent, in wages. Delegates of the Bohemian miners have decided in favor of a general strike in August for shorter hours and higher wage£' The tin plate scale was signed at Pitts burg, Pena., at aoonferonee of manufacture ers and workmen. Forty mills and 18,000 men were affected and a general resumption took place. The Society for the Promotion of Engi neering Education, in which the railway en gineers of the United States are largely In terested, will hold its first meeting in Brook lyn from August 20 to August 23. > Considerable interest is being manifested among seamen all over the world about a proposed International union. The Ameri can sailors number about 15,000. Altogether it is reckoned that 78,000 men of all nations follow the sea for a living. i Fourteen young women of Indianapolis (Ind.) lauudrles.by putting their small mean* together and borrowing the reel of the mon ey, established the Union co-operative laun dry two years ago. They now own a plant valued at (4000 clear of incumbrance. i Eugene V. Debs, who ordered the big antl-Pullmau strike, is under forty years ot age, and was selling sugar in his father’a store in Terre Haute, Ind., before he became a railroad fireman. Dobs, os President ot the American Railway Union, gets a (3000 salary. FIFTY-THIRD CONQRESS.' \ Good Tooth Dlot. Oatmeal is excellent as nourish ment for the teeth, because it makes the enamel strong, Hint-like and de cay-resisting. Bread made of whole meal is best, and brown bread made of rye meal and cornmeal are superior to white bread for bone building. Baked beans should be used at'least twice a week. The Senate. 152d Day.—Tho Senate a^jonmetl fur lack of a quorum, without noting on tho Legtsln- *iv<> Appropriation bill. 15b) Day.—Tho Legislative, Executive nn I Jiuliciai and District or Columbia Ap propriation bills wore passed. 154ru Day.—Tho Agricultural Appropria tion bill was passed, with an amendment ordering tho expenditure of $1,000,000 to ex- ternvnatothe Russian thistle. Mr. Peflfor introluced a petition fisking Congress to order Attorney-General Olney to enforce tho BhiTAinn law against the Eastern Railroad Association. 155th Day.—Tho day was occupied with the consideration of tho Indian Appropria tion bill. 15Cth Day.—The Indian Appropriation bill was passed. The report of tho tariff con ference was presented an l referred. 157th Day.—President Cleveland’s letter to Chairman Wilson was the subject of a sharp debate, in which Messrs. Hill, Smith, Vest and others took part. Mr. Hill said that in view of the President’s letter, that body had no alternative but to recede from its Tariff bill amendments. Mr. Vilas moved to strike out tho one-eighth of a cent differential oa refined sugar. | Tho House. 174th Day.—Tlio House spent tho day considering tho Revenue Cutter Service bill without acting upon it. 175th Day.—The House discussed tho Bailey Bankruptcy bill. The House adopt ed a strong resolution approving the Presi dent’s course In the strike. It was passed without division, ♦he minority not being strong enough to get the yeas and nays. 176th Day.—Tho House, after passing *ho Bailey Bankruptcy bill by n vote of 12 7 to 81, devoted the rest of tho day to the con sideration of bills reported by the Committee on Judiciary. 177th Day.—Routine business only was transacted. 178th Day.—Chairman Wilson, in report ing the disagreement of tho Tariff Confer ence Committee, read a letter from tho President, urging the House not to adopt tho Senate amendments , Mr. Rood also spoke. The House then voted to disagree, and tho old conferees were reappointed. 179th Day. —Tho Tucker resolution for election of Senators by the popular votQ was discussed.