Newspaper Page Text
THE LINCOLNTON NEWS.
-
J. P. COLLEY & CO.,
VOL. I.
Ahmed.
With wrath -flashed cheeks, and eyelids red,
Where anger’s fiercest sign was spread,
And hands whose clenched nails left thei
print
In the brown palm’s deep, sun-warmed tint
The chieftains sat in circle wide,
And in the center, oh his side,
Thrown like a dog, a thieving brnte,
Ray Ahmed, frowning, bound and mute.
“The man who takes an offered bribe
Prom chieftain of an alien tribe
Shall die.” So fan the Arab law,
Read by a scribe; and Ahmed saw
In every eye that scanned his faoe
Burnt the hot fury of his race.
His fate was told. All men muBt die
8ome time; what cared he how or why ?
They loosed his tight-swathed arms and feet,
Unwound the cashmere turban, sweet
With spice and attar, stripped the vest
Of gold and crimson from his breast,
And laid his broad, brown bosom bare
To cimeter and dessrt air.
He stood as molded statues stand,
With sightless eye and nerveless hand.
As molded statues stand, but through
The dark skin, at each breath he drew,
The wild heart’s wilder beating showed.
Then on the sand he kneeled, and bowed
Hjs head to meet the steady stroke;
The headsman threw aside his cloak,
T1 © curved steel circled in the sun—
Ahmed was dead, and justice done.
—The Pilot
MY MISHAP.
A TRUE STORY OF THE RHINE.
“And you mean to say you’ll swim
down the Rhine to the picnic?”
“Yes, Miss Carrie; every inch of
the way. I’ll start from the baths,
send my clothes on by a cart, and meet
you when you arrive in the carriage.”
“Well, if you do, Mr. Beecher, you
shall sit next me at the lunch as a re¬
ward. What do you think of that?
But be careful, and don’t run any
risks; the current, you know, is very
strong in some places.”
“What’s this, Miss Carrie?” said I,
joining in the conversation. “Is
Beecher going to swim down to-mor¬
row ?”
“Yes, he says so, but I don’t think
he can manage it.”
“ Well, if he can, I can, and to prove
it I’ll swim with him.”
The fact was I was very jealous of
Beecher; and, being a good swimmer
myself, I was determined not to be
outdone. But, in order to explain the
state of my feelings I must go back a
little.
I was staying as a guest with my
uncle and aunt at C— on the Rhine.
They had come for a month’s holiday
and, having no children of their own,
had asked me to accompany them, an
invitation which I very readily ac¬
cepted, more especially as they had an¬
other guest in the person of Miss Car¬
rie Danvers, the daughter of one of
their oldest friends. I had before met
Miss Danvers at their house, and on
that occasion she had made “ her mark
on my heart;” and now, in the month
we were to spend in each other’s so¬
ciety, I calculated on being able to re¬
turn the compliment; and I hoped, ere
I again saw England, to have obtained
her consent to become, at no very dis¬
tant period, Mrs. McGrath, an ar
raagement which I felt sure would
please my relations.
For the first fortnight of our stay at
C— everything went happily and
smoothly, and I congratulated myself
on the progress I was making. But,
unfortunately for me, while we went
walking in the Kursaal gardens one
evening after dinner we came across
the Beecher family, neighbors of my
uncle in England, and who, finding
him at C—, and who being charmed
with the place, determined to make a
stay there also. I liked all the family
except the eldest son, Jack—in the
Guards. Under other circumstances
I doubtless should have liked him ;
but just now he was in the way, very
much in the way. He, too, was an ac¬
quaintance of Miss Carrie, and at times
I felt inclined to believe something
more than an acquaintance. As I have
stated above, I was jealous of him—
and that is the long and short of this
little business.
Since he bad arrived I had not
Miss Carrie to myself as formerly ;
Jack Beecher shared in our walks and
conversations to an extent I did not
approve of, but I am bound to admit
his presence appeared to give the
young lady considerable pleasure, and
this made my pain all the more keen.
Some days previous to the evening
on which I have introduced myself and
friends to the readers, a picnic had
been settled on at M—, a charming
spot on the Rhine, some lour miles be¬
low C—. The Beechers were all
coming and some other English folk
whose acquaintance we had made
during our stay, together with two or
three German officers stationed at C—.
The excursion promised to be a very
delightful one, and fine weather was
all that was required to make the trip
delightful. It had been arranged that
we should drive down to A!—, starting
at 11 o’clock, and we were now dis¬
cussing the final arrangements and
settling who was to be responsible for I
THE AUGUSTA, ELBERTON AND CHICA.G-0 hailroad.
the salt, who for the spoons and who
for various other little necessaries and
comforts which are generally found
to be missing when the picnic cloth is
“ Yes,” continued I, turning to Jack
Beecher. “I’ll swim down with you
to-morrow.”
“ Thanks,” replied he. “That will
be very jolly. It would be rather
solitary work by one’s self. We ought
to start about half-past ten, certainly
not later ; for, even with the stream
in our favor, we shall not be able to
go as fast as the carriages. Will that
suit you?”
“ Oh, yes; that will do very well in¬
deed.”
“All right; then I will make ar¬
rangements to-night for a man to take
our clothes on in a cart, a nd I shall
expect to see you at the baths at 10:30
sharp.”
“ Right you are, Beecher. I will be
there.”
The conversation after this turned
upon general topics, and in a short
time our party broke up and we re¬
tired for the night to our respective
hotels.
The next morning after breakfast I
found Carrie in the drawing-room at
the piano, and as she was alone I
seized upon the opportunity of improv¬
ing the occasion. I got her to sing;
then I sang (I rather fancied my own
voice in those days), and finally we
tried some duets together. She was
very nice and kind and the minutes
passed so rapidly that when she at
length asked me whether it was not
time for her to go and prepare for her
drive I was astonished to find that it
was just 10:30. I knew I should be
late for my appointment with Beecher,
and so ran as hard as I eould all the
way, and arrived at the baths about ten
minutes after time, and learnt that he
had already started. I thought I could
easily catch him up before he reached
M—, so undressed quickly and plunged
in at once. When I had proceeded a
few yards I remembered about my
clothes, and shouted back to the cus¬
todian of the baths, telling him to let
the man have them with those of Mr.
Beecher’s. He made some reply which
I did not catch, and away I went,
doing my best to overtake my rival.
It w'as a glorious swim, and I thor¬
oughly enjoyed it. The current was
so strong that but little exertion was
required. All you had to do was to
keep your head above water and the
river did the rest. After going some
tw r o miles I turned a corner, and could
just make out Beecher a long way
ahead of me. I put on a spurt; but I
did not gain on him as I expected. lie
was a better swimmer than I had
given him credit for being, and arrived
at the destination a good five minutes
before me. When I did arrive I found
him seated on the bank dressing.
“Why, McGrath, is that you?” he
shouted. “I thought you were not
coming. I waited a few minutes for
you and then set off alone.”
“I was rather late; I didn’t quite
know’ how time w'as going.”
“ Oh, well, it doesn’t matter. You
have arrived to the minute; for here
are the carriages; so get out and dress
at once.”
I scrambled up the bank and dried
myself.
“ Where has the fellow put my
clothes; I don’t see them?”
“I’m sure I can’t say. Who did you
send them by ?”
“ By my man.”
“No, I’m sure you didn’t; he started
with mine before I commenced my
swim. I saw him safely on the road
for fear of any mistake.”
“ Then mine haven’t come. Good
gracious! what am I to do?”
“My dear fellow, I’m awfully sorry;
but I had no idea you would come
when you didn’t show up at the right
time or I would have made him wait
for you.”
“ Confound it!—this is a nuisance.
I can’t appear as I am, or at best clad
only in a couple of wet towels, can I?”
“ No, that you can’t. And what is
more you can’t stay where you are, for
here are some of the ladies coining on
the bank; get into the water quick.”
There was nothing else for it, so in
I went up to my neck.
“Now, stay there quietly while I go
and explain matters and see what can
be done for you.”
Aly temper was none of the best, and
my thoughts were none of the most
pleasant as I stood there soaking in the
Rhine. He appeared to have been
away an hour when he at length re¬
turned, accompanied by a German of¬
ficer.
“ You can now come out,” he shout¬
ed; “I have explained matters, and
Lieutenant Linden there is kind
enough to say he will lend you his
military overcoat—it is a good long
one, so you will be all right. Out you
come. •
Out I did come most promptly, with
profuse thanks to Lieutenant Linden
LINCOLNTON, GA., FRIDAY, DECEMBER 1 1882 .
for his most acceptable loan. He was a
tall man, and the garment reached
nearly to my heels. I know I cut a
sorry figure, and though I received a
considerable amount of sympathy from
the party when I appeared among
them, still it was mixed with smiles
and partially concealed laughter, which
was most galling to my feelings. It
(i was out of the question that I should
remain longer in this single garment
than was absolutely necessary, so I de¬
termined to at once return to C— and
claim my clothes. Fortunately the
man who had brought those of Dan¬
vers had not returned and I wa 3 thus
enabled to obtain a lift back, otherwise
I should have had to walk, as the
carriages had returned at once, before
my misfortune became known.
The party all came down to the
road to see me start, and no w, as I
look back on the incident, I can for¬
give the laughter they indulged in, for
I certainly must have looked very
curious—no hat, no boots or stockings,
only a military coat on a blazing day
in July. Just as I was starting Carrie
said : “ Mind you are back again in
time for the dinner ; you are entitled
to a seat by me, remember.” “ You
may be sure I shall not be a moment
longer than I can help,” I replied,
and away we drove. “Now my
troubles are over,” I thought; but I
had calculated wrongly, for no sooner
had I entered the town gates than I
was arrested by the sentry on duty for
appearing in the public streets without
the full complement of regimentals.
In vain I urged in the best German I
could command that I was not a
soldier, and endeavored to explain how
I came to be in the get-up at all, but
he would not hear a word, and for two
mortal hours I was locked up in the
guard-house before I was taken to the
superior officer. Here I again
went through an explanation, and
this time with more effect, as I
was liberated after receiving a
warning to be more careful in future,
and make better arrangements about
my clothes when next I swam down
the Rhine. I didn’t waste much time in
getting my belongings and dressing,
and was soon driving back to M—.
When I arrived there I found dinner
had been over some time, and I hail
to content myself with a solitary meal,
as every one had wandered off in
various directions. Just ’as I had
finished, and was
to some extent, Carrie and Beecher re¬
turned. They were very anxious to
know the cause of my delay, and when
I had concluded the account of my
sufferings, Carrie said: “And now
we have something to tell you,” and
then followed a piece of information
which, if .1 had received it before my
meal, would have effectually driven
away my appetite, and as it was it
banished at once and forever my idea
of making her Airs. AIcGrath. From
that moment I date my dislike to Ger¬
many. To lose my clothes and be
arrested was bad enough, but to lose
my sweetheart was worse. I left for
England the next day, and I have
never seen the Rhine since, and I
don’t care if I never see it again.—
London Graphic.
PEARLS OP THOUGHT.
If every person would be half as good
as he expects his neighbor to be what a
heaven this world would he.
Pack your cares in as small compass
as you can, so that you can carry them
yourself and not let them annoy oth
ers.
The triumph of a woman lies not in
j the admiration of her lover, but in the
: respect of her husband, and that only
can be gained by a constant cultivation
of those qualities which she knows he
most values.
it is much easier to reconcile an
enemy than to conquer him. Victory
deprives him of his power, but recon¬
ciliation of his will; and there is less
t * an S er * u a which will not hurt
than in power which cannot. Tlie
power is not so apt as tlie will, as the
will is studious to find out means.
Mediocrity raised to a position be¬
yond its desert finds itself humiliated
when placed beside those humbler in
rank but equal to the duties of the
office to which they were raised by
merit alone. These waifs of favoritism
dwindle by comparison and stoop to
every suggestion of meanness and
malice to sting their humbler but more
deserving and more successful asso¬
ciates.
In the lives of the saddest of us
there arc bright days when we feel as
if we could take the great world in
our arms. Then come the gloomy
days when the fire will neither burn
on our hearths nor in our hearts, and
all without and within is dismal; cold
and dark. Every heart has its secret
sorrows which tlie world knows not:
and oftentimes we call a man cold
when he is only sad. t
Bravo and frontiersmen.
In a letter from El Paso del Norte,
Mexico, to the New York Tribune, oc¬
curs this interesting description of a
border bravo: It was in a gambling
den in the Texas El Paso. The low
adobe rooms Were filled with tables
around which were clustered Mexicans,
wrapped in gayly-striped serapes, their
black eyes glittering feverishly un^er
their broad hats as they laid their bets
on Spanish monte or "stud-horse
poker.” The music of a harp, the song
of a Mexican woman and the rattle of
money were almost the only sounds.
Suddenly a remarkable apparition ap¬
peared at a private door and took its
seat behind the faro table. It was
calculated to serve as an excellent
frontispiece for a dime novel. The fel¬
low’s long tow-colored hair escaped from
beneath his sombrero and fell in ring¬
lets over his shoulders. On his expan¬
sive shirt bosom were three nuggets of
gold, each about the size of a walnut,
and three gold coins. Up and down
the lapels of his waistcoat were
ranged gold eagles, pieces of turquoise
and lumps of virgin gold, while the
heavy watch chain was hung full of
fifty-dollar gold pieces and gaudy seal
rings. The gambler’s small white
hands were halfchidden under fourteen
immense rings’ which included dia
monds, rubies, moss-agates, moon
blood stones. He stroked his waxed
mustache and goatee and. glanced
keenly about the room to observe the
effect of his jewelry, then with an os
tentatiously nonchalant manner drew
a revolver and laid it on the table
side him. “What is it?” I asked as
he began dealing the cards,
“lie calls himself Colorado
lie,” was the reply, “ and he has the
heart of a chicken and the gold of a
pawnbroker. In ’76 he was freighting
flour into the Black Hills. Then he
became a-gambler in Colorado, but the
boys made him vamose. He went to
San Francisco, but the bootblacks and
hoodlums got after him and hooted
and pelted him until they made him
put up his hair and take off his jewelry.
Now he’s working this country and
trying to impose on‘tenderfeet,’ He's
made some-money because he’s shrewd
enough to make others work for him,
and he hires bruisers to do his fight¬
ing. If I should pull his nose he’d
crawl under the table, and if Bill
Thompson or any bad man came in
and gave a yell you’d see Colorado
Charlie climbing through the tran
so,n -”
so to
this creature simply because he repre
sents a class of long-haired showy
frauds who arc met with in frontier
towns and who not infrequently are
taken by “tenderfeet” to be
frontiersmen. No mistake eould be
more absurd. The man who has safely
passed through the vicissitudes and
trying experiences of frontier life has
passed the severest test that can possi.
lily be applied. He may be ignorant
of minor points of etiquette, but he is
at heart a true gentleman. He is cour¬
teous, with something of the dignified
suavity of the South, and in manner
he is very quiet, but his quiet cloaks a
cool bravery and resolution that has
been tried again and again. The im¬
pression that the old frontiersman is a
loud-mouthed, reckless desperado is
one that prevails in the East, and one
than which nothing can be further
from the truth. He lias his faults as
we s virtues, but swagger and
bluster are not among them.
.4 Strange Career.
The career of John Goldenberg, who
lately died at Wiesbaden worth many
millions of dollars, was a strange one.
lie never spoke of his origin, but he
was probably born in Galicia. Cir
cumstances led him, while still a young
man, to the Levant, and finding no
foothold there he turned his steps to
ward the East, and eventually found
himself in Burmah, India. He had no
sooner crossed the border than he
stopped by a party of natives, who pro
ceeded to ransack the pack which he
carried over his shoulder.
other articles they found a box
of pomade, which, to his amaze
ment, they began to eat with great
apparent relish. This incident led
him to reflect that among such a bar¬
barous people a clever European
might make his fortune. He began
his operations by trading in teak
wood, and having at length secured
the favor of the king by making the
first coined money ever seen in Bur
mah, he obtained a monopoly of the
teak forests and advanced rapidly to
great prosperity. In 1876 he returned
to Europe by way of Pesth, where he
married a young girl, from whom he
was soon afterward separated. Last
spring he made the acquaintance of
Ina Aloller, an Austrian pianist, and
last autumn he married her in Lon¬
don. He died suddenly in Wiesbaden
while the J’ were makin K a wedding
tour Germany. His wife is the
sole heir of his vast property,
CLIPPINGS FO THE CURIOUS.
The obscure German town of Kling
enbergon-Main lias become so rich
from a large interest in quarries that
not only are there no taxes, hut every
burgher is presented with $25 at
Christinas.
In Japan, in honor of a deity having
the head of a dog, the different streets
of each town cent ribute to the mainte¬
nance of a certain number of dogs ;
they have their lodgings, and persons
are especially appointed to take care of
them when sick.
Adam Kirpen Las a beard twelve
feet long and proportionately heavy,
and by means of it he has not only
lived twenty-two years without work,
but has accumulated considerable prop¬
erty in Chicago. He travels through
the West selling Iris photographs.
An industry, the magnitude of
which would certainly not be suspected,
is the manufacture of paper patterns
for dresses and w-earing apparel. In
New York alone there are reported to
be no less than ten. such establishments,
which consume m any tons of paper and
dispose of many thousand dollars’
worth of .such goods all over the coun
try.
An early account of New York, pub
fished in 1708, speaks of Dutch-built
mills for sawing timber, one of which
would do more work in an hour than
fifty metl in two days. Sawmills were
erected on Man.Iia.ttan island as early
as 1633. A sawmill, down to the
close of the last century, was quite a
simple affair, and a mill that then cost
£100 was considered better than the
average.
The tremendous power of sea waves
was exhibited at tVick, on the extreme
northern coast of Scotland, where a
breakwater was being built. The
outer end was built of three courses of
100-ton stones, laid on a rubble founda
tion; and above them three courses
of large flat stones and on these a mass
of concrete built on the spot of cement
rubble. ~ Though thought to be
and as
immovable as the natural rock, it
yielded to the force of the waves and
crumbled to pieces,
The mother-turtles lay three times
a year, depositing- sometimes as many
as 100 eggs at a laying, and carefully
covering them up -with sand, so that it
requires an experienced searcher to
detect them. The Indians of the
Orinoco and Amazon obtain from these
eggs a kind of clear, sweet oil which
they use instead of butter. About
5;000 eggs are required to fill one of
their jars with oil, yet so abundantly
are they deposited that about 5,000
j ars are p U t U p yearly akthe mouth of
oae 0 f the rivers. The harvest is esti
mated by the acre,
p appears that in the twelve years
tjj a t have elapsed since the opening of
^ ^ uez cana j tlie interchange of ani
mal Me between, the Mediterranean
ea and the i ntl ian ocean has not
reac b e d the diraexxsions at first antici
pated. "What migration there is is
chiefly from the Nl editerranean to the
Bed sea. The real pearl oysters are
traveling througTi the canal in large
numbers, but so slowly that it will be
one or two decades before they will be
established in tlie ^Mediterranean.
To Think a net Not to Think.
Improve your time, my boy. Put
in every minute in honest hard work,
or tranquil meditation, or healthful
recreation. That is all I :tsk you to
do. Oh, “you Lelieve you'll select
meditation as a profession,” then, do
you? It strikes you that it is easy
work to sit and tirink, eh? Now, my
boy, if you want something easy, you
had much better stand and chop wood,
It isn’t easy to tlx ink. Ye don’t think
half so much as w e want to make people
believe we do. Ia fact, we don’t think
nearly so much its we think we do.
Busy thought an<_1 aimless idleness are
often very similitxr in external appear
ance , Edison sitting before his fire
i ess forge, with Iris hands folded list
i eS sly in his lap. looking at nothing,
ma y be apparently as idle, even idler,
qhun the man perolied on the end of a
cottonwood log, watching his cork bob
lazily in the yellow water of a sluggish
creek. But tlie results are in one
instance the telephone and the electric
light, and in the ot her, the ague and a
soft-mouthed sue Veer and a cat-fish four
inches long. The one dreams out mar¬
velous inventions that thrill the world
with wonder and. multiply commercial
activity, and gives them to the eager,
waiting world ; or at least lie sells
them to Jay Gould and Jay Gould
sells them to the world, and the other
cofitracts a malarial fever and gives it
to his family. It is not easy to think
we waste more time than we use, and
the hours slip away so noiselessly and
easily we don’t know where they have
gone.-• Burlington Hawkeye.
Never be above your calling, or be
afraid to appear dressed in accordance
with the business you are performing.
THE FAMILY DOCTOR.
For Whooping Cough. —Dried red
clover blossoms, one and one-half
ounces;'boiling water, one pint. Steep
for three hours. Dose—one wine
glassful, sweetened with honey or
sugar, occasionally during the day.
Proposed by Dr. Howard Sargent and
found curative in ten days .or les3.—
Dr. Foote’s Health Monthly.
Cp.oup.—W e find this simple rem
edy going the rounds of our exchanges:
Take a knife or grater and shave off
in small particles about a teaspoonful
of alum ; then mix it with twice its
amour t of sugar, to make it palatable,
and administer it as quickly as possi¬
ble. Almost instantaneous relief will
follow.
Use of Lemons.— For all people, in
sickness or in health, lemonade is a safe
drink. It corrects biliousness; it is a
specific against worms and skin com¬
plaints. The pipps, crushed, may also
be mixed with water and sugar, and
used as a drink. Lemon juice is the
best anti-scrobutic remedy known ; it
not only cures the disease, but prevents
it. Sailors make a daily use of it for
this purpose. A physician suggests
rubbing of the gums daily with lemon
juice to keep them in health. The
hands and nails are also kept clew,
white, soft and supple by daily use of
lemon instead of soap. It also pre¬
vents chilblains. Lemon used in inter¬
mittent fever is mixed with strong,
hot black tea or coffee, without sugar.
Neuralgia may be cured by rubbing
the part affected with lemon. It is
valuable, also to cure warts and to
destroy dandruff on the head, by
rubbing the roots of the hair' with it
In fact, its uses are manifold, and the
more we apply it externally, the better
and more healthy we shall find our¬
selves.
Halting Thread.
The process generally occupies a
couple of months, but can be done in
much shorter time when it is wished.
When the cotton is picked it is first
ginned on a roller gin,and is then packed
in what is termed a sack, which holds
from 200 to 400 pounds. It is next card¬
ed, and carried to Abatis called the rail¬
way head, through which it is run, and
then it is ready for the “comber.” From
this it receives its combing, much the
same as a lady does her hair. From the
“comber” it is taken through the first
and second stages of drawing, produc¬
what is called the “shubber” machine,
where it is first twisted and wound on
the bobbin. It is then run through
the first and second intermediate ma¬
chines, and then to the fine wing
frame, whence it goes to the ring spin¬
ning frame. After this process the
product is termed yam. The next pro¬
cess is to carry it to the “cop doubler,”
which delivers two strands on the
bobbin, making two-cord thread,
then to three-ply double, producing
three-cord thread, after which two
strands of the three-cord are twisted
together, forming the fine six-cord
thread, which is the standard article.
A skein is then formed of thread,
which is bleached or colored as the
case may be. It is next taken to the
spooling room, .and wound on large
spools, and next to the winder and put
on small spools of 200 yards each,
and after these spools have passed
through the ticketing machine
they are ready for sale. The whole
process of making thread is a most
ingenious one, and now brought as
near perfection as machinery can
possibly be. The manufacturers of
this country employ 2,400 people con¬
stantly, and good wages are paid to
those skilled in the use of the ma¬
chinery. There has probably never
been an industry in which such rapid
strides have been made as in the
manufacture of thread .—Louisville
Courier-Journal.
A Drummer's Ruse.
A little ingenuity will help a person
along almost anywhere:
A drummer one day got through his
business in a town in Vermont early
in the morning, and a train would not
leave for the next place till evening.
He learned, however, that a local
freight train would be along in about
an hour, but would not stop, as there
was no freight for it. Our enter¬
prising drummer borrowed a soap-box
at tlie hotel, and carefully wrapping
up a few paving-stones placed them
in the box and directed it to the hotel
in the next town. When the freight
train came along the drummer helped
his “ mineral specimens” aboard,
skipped in himself and cheerfuUy paid
the twenty-five cents for conveyancy
of five hundred pounds.
That young man’s readiness of re¬
source might make him a military
commander—or a “boss politician.”
But we would be a little suspicious of
a man so smart as that,— Youth’s
Companion.
PUBLISHERS.
NO. 7.
Rest.
Oat from the great world’s crash and din;
Ont from the pain, and wrong, and sin;
Out from ambition’s cruel strife;
Oat from the bitter race of life;. -
Oat from its honors and affairs;
Oat from its horrors and its cares,
Again, a child, he lay at rest,
In holy peace on his mother’s breast.
Her gentle hand toyed in his hair;
Her sweet, dear voice dispelled his care;
Her loving eyes shed light divine;
Her very presence made a shrine;
His throbbing arteries ceased to teem;
The madding world a sad, past dream;
Again, a child, he lay at rest,
In holy peace on his mother’s breast.
PUNGEN T PARAGRAPHS.
November 30—Autumn leaves.
It’s easy finding reasons why other
people should be patient.
A statistician lias estimated that
courtships average three tons of coal
each.
In trade what article is usually con¬
sidered as occupying the foremost
rank ? Strong butter.
This season’s vests will
patches for next year’s trogsers. Sweet
are the uses of diversity.
And now has come the wintry breeze
_
And stopped as sore as fate,
This swapping taffy neath the trees,
And chinning o’er the gate.
This is a hurry-cane in earnest
bought the boy as the old mas rained
:he blows upon his
lightning rapidity. ’j n-rrin s*Sd\
“This deeoratire art business Is
being run into the
observed a practical former
drove down a hand-painted croqget
stake for a tethesfog post.
A fashion exchange re
will be no change in a
winter season.” This wfii am
gaunt wolf howling to-the door i
poor washerwoman. >
Tommy don’t like fat meat, ne
day the steak was very fat “Xom
my,” asked the professor, “will you
have some beefsteak?” “Yes, sir;
but I don’t want any that has nAi-v
all around it.” .... ......
nouncement: j “AH languages
here.” A tourist entering
host with English, Spanish 1 , Rus
sian, etc. Seeing that the good fellow
understands never a word, he inquires
who it is in the hotel who speaks every
tongue. Then mine host with dignity
responds: “The travelers, sir.” q
A Curious Mode of hiving.
The inventor Silver, of Lewiston,
Me., says a local paper, has been ex¬
perimenting upon himself the past
two or three years. For several
months he has eaten bat one meal a
day, and that about 10 o’clock in the
evening, immediately before retiring.
He works ten hours a day at his
machinist’s post without eating or
drinking anything. Instead of pining
away and dying, Mr. Silver has
gained thirty-five pounds in
flesh. He is not hungry until bedtime.
He drinks nothing, neither water
milk, tea nor coffee. All the fluids
his stomach receives are from fruits
and vegetables, which make up the
major part of his living. He eats no
meat, as he believes animal food is ani
malizing. He lives mainly on oatmeal
and graham without salt. He eats
apples, grapes and all fruits liberally.
His friends say he is extraordinarily
good-natured, much stronger and
healthier.
in Incubator for Infants.
M. Tarnier, the surgeon of the Ma¬
ternity hospital, in Paris, struck by
the great mortality among infants pre¬
maturely bom and those who are very
sickly after birth, has conceived the
ingenious idea, says the London Lan¬
cet, of constructing a box which is al¬
most exactly similar to the incubators
used for poultry. This box is divided
into two compartments—the lower one
being used as a reservoir for hot w r ater,
while the infant is placed in the upper
one, which is well stuffed at the sides
and fitted with a sliding glass cover.
The temperature is maintained at
eighty-six degrees Fahrenheit, and Air.
Tarnier has found that by keeping in¬
fants in the incubator for a period
varying from two days to six weeks
their vitality is enormously improved.
A blast of 5,700 pounds of powder
was recently fired at Steaven’s camp,
on the Oregon and California railroad.
The effect was tremendous. It tore
down the side of a mountain, dammed
up a creek for a mile, and blocked a
wagon road for a distance of half a
mile.
When people traveled by diligenc
in France one traveler in every 335,
000 was IriUed and one in every
30,000 wounded. Now. with rail¬
ways, one is killed per 5,178,490 and
one wounded per 580,450. Stage
coach traveling was therefore twenty
times as dangerous as the cars,