Newspaper Page Text
man
VOLIME XLIII*]
MILLEDGE VILLE,
the
giii0n & Sttoritr,
IN'
PCIILISHED VVEEKLT
MILLEDGEVILLE. GJ
Barnes & Moore,
or $3 at cad of the year.
Boughton,
$2 in
S. N. EOUGETON, Editor.
. . KEDE UAL UNION” and the “SOUTH-
T ‘- j‘ E COKDER” were consolidated August 1 at,
^othe Union being in its Forty-Third Voluinu end
I h e Recorder in if* Eifty-Third Volume.
advertising.
Tribute •
c< **diu* S1 *
for iudivi^ 11
Onu Dollar p«*r aqi
iz mouths. or
Ri**»p«ft, U«'W>lutic
li.i.s N‘*»iiHations
of ten line* for firat inser-
h atihat qiieut continuance,
ill be allowed i*u advertiee-
b*. Societies Obituaries ex
office and Coumi uni cation*
iiirii-ut advertising.
legal advertising.
of fn Hi
. ; a *aleS, per hquar*
a of Administration,
(nmrdiunbhip,
mission ironi Administration,
*• Guardianship,..
,e to sell Laud
ud Creditors
K*tn»> Su
legal advertisements.
I . j X. bv Aduiiuistrfttor*. E* ecutors or Gimr-
, i (»> luw t" be held on the tirst Tuesday lu the
, . i: forei •" i wad 3 in the af-
‘ r ii .ii*-** in the county in which the property
etc ►ales mu.t l*e given iu a public
Nolu
‘vs pr*
5 toth.
of I* r '
edit* i
ol
l»e given in
state must l»* pub-
Uabed 40 «
noutluy
lav c
Rt.les 1
the le*al req 1 *
u will be made to the Court of Ordinary
v , , must be published for one month.
Adii.iuibtratioii, Guardianship, ate.,
a— for dismission from Administration
... .i dibuiisbiou from Guardianship 40
t ,f M**rteage must be published monthly
M .-iiifit; lost pujsTH tor tlte full space of
ordine to these,
Book and Job Work, of all kinds,
PROMPTLY and neatly executed
at this office.
She Poet and the Proof Header.
All!. here it is! I’m lamous now—
An author and a poet!
It really is in priut! Ye gods !
Ilow proud 1'ii be to show it 1
And gentle Anna! What a thrill
Will animate her breast,
To read these ardent lines and know
To whom they are addressed.
Why bless my soul, here's something strange :
What can the paper mean
Bv talking of the graceful brooks
That gander o'er the gieeti?
Ai it l.eie's a t instead of r.
Which makes it tippling rill;
We'll seek the si nil. instead of shade,
And hel! inetead of bill.
1
I Wi
(6itj gimtorg.
Church Directory.
BAPTIST CHURCH
Services 1 at and 3d Sundays in «ach month, at 11
o'clock, a m and 7 pm.
Sahbatli School al!' I-'-’ o ciock, a m. O. M. Cone,
Supt Bev D E BUTLER, Pastor.
METHODIST CHURCH.
Hours of service on Suuday : 11 o’clock, a m, aDd
Sunday School 4 o'clock p. m. Teachers meeting 3
p, m _\V. E- Frank laud. Superintendent.
y Praver meeting every Wednesday at 7 o’clock, p in.
Rev. A J JARRELL, Pastor.
[was »we*t awl then 'twas kind,
And now to think.the btupid fool
For bland han printed blind !
Wa^ ever such provoking Work 1
'Tis curious, by the by.
How anything is rendered blind
By giving it an eye.
Hast thou no tears ? the t'* left out.
Hast thou no edls, instead;
I hope that thou art dear, is put
I hope that thou art dead.
Win »ever saw in such a space
So many bluudtrs crammed ?
Those gentle eyes bedimmed, is spelt
Those gentle eyes bedarained.
The color of the rose, is nose;
Affection is affliction;
I wonder if die likeness holds
In fact as well as diction T
Thou art a friend, the r is goue—
Whoever would have deemed
That suck a trifling thing could change
A friend into a hi nd '
Thou art the same is rendered lame—
It reully is too bad !
And here, because au < is out,
My lovely maid is mad;
They drove her blind, by poking in
An eye—a process new;
And now they've gouged it out again,
Aud made tier crazy, too.
Let's stop am! recapitulate;
I've dammed her eyes, that’s plain—
I've told her she’s a lunatic.
And blind, and deaf, and lame.
Was ever such a horrid hash
In poetry or prose ?
I’ve said she was a fiend, and praised
The color of her nose.
I wish I liad that editor
About a half amiuute;
I’d bang him to my heart’s content,
And with an h begin it;
I'd jam his body, eyes, and nose,
Aud spell it with a d.
And send him to that hill of his—
He spells it with an e,
THE GLOrTesToF SIAM.
A Strange Part of the World.
XLAHB SCENES AND FRUITS-
ing roofs of temple gleamed through
the dark verdure, suggesting theaich-
itectural magnificence and beauty
which tbe statelier temples of the city
jection,
toned bells, with little gilded fans at
would exhibit. Baldheaded priests in 1 tuclied to their tongues, so swinging
orange-colored scarfs came out to meet ■ that they were vocal in the slightest
us. Superb white pelicaLS stood pen-j breeze. Here was where the music
sive by the river side, or snatched at came from. Even as I stood and look-
fish, or sailed on snowy wings with ! ed, I caught the breezes at it. Corn-
quiet majesty across the stream. Or,
PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH.
Soi vict*H every *S<tbbntii fit 11 o clock, fi m find >
Sabbath School at 3 p m. T. T. Windsor, Supt.
Praver niee'ii g every Friday at 4 o’clock, p m.
liev.'G. T. UOETCH1US, Pastor.
Lodges.
temperance.
Itlilledgcville Council No.), meets in the Sen
ate Chamber al the State Hcuse un every Friday
evening at ~ o’clock. C P C RAW b OKD, Wr.
E P l.ist. Sec’y.
MASONIC.
Benevolent S.oclge No 3 F’ A M., meets 1st and
3d Saturday nights u! each month at Masonic Hall.
(i I) Case, Sec y. liftiY 11 HOWARD, W M
Temple Chapter meets the second and fourth
Saturday nights iu each mouth.
0 1) Case! Sec’y. S O WHITE, II P
.tlilledgcville l.oilge of Perfection A.-, i
A.\ S.'. K.. meets every Moudav night.
SAM'LG WHITE. T P G M
G D Case, Exc Grand Sec’y.
TO THE WEST! TO THE WEST!
into
Thin line.
Before making your amugements to follow the advice of the
“thousand* wi>o have already gone/’ it would be well to consid
er what has been done to make the journey to your “Home* in
the \Ve*t” a* pleasant and an free from danger as human skill
and foresight ran accomplish.
By consolidation and construction a road has been put
operation on tin* shortest possible line from Nashville ^
to St. Loui*.-‘ihe future great City o
the
3t. Louis «k Southeastern Railway,
ha«, during the past year, earned an enviable reputation by its
smooth track, prompt time, sure connections, and the maguiti-
recce u! its pass»*i*ger equipment. Its trains aie made up of
new aud commodious day cars, provided with the celebrated
Miller coupler and platform, ana tin* Westinghoase air-brake.
It is pohitiv* 1\ the only line running Pullman Palace Drawing-
Room Sleeping Cara through without change from Nashville to
St Louis. No other line pretends to otter such advantages,
either iu distance, time, «<r equipment. W hv, then, journey by
circuitous routes' Do not lie induced to purchase tickets to St
Louis or the West by any other line, remembering that
The “«*t. l.o»*i*» & Mouthenslcrn”
ik the shortest, cheapest, quickest, be
management front Nashville to St. Lo
miles the shortest to St. Louis, Kails;
i po
mlv line under
und ii from G» to 200
ity, Omaha. Denver,
It i» also the “Chico*
ille.
moveables on application
McCabe, Southern Pass<
Nashville, Teuu., or totii
No trouble to ails
May 1, 187U.
aiM-st rates for yourselves and your
iu person or by letter, toCilARL
user Agent, near College street Depot,
■ undersigned.
W. B. DAVENPORT.
General Ticket Agent St. Louis,
estiona.
PARKER’S
Carriage and Wagon Shop.
D ON'T fail to take your Oarrriage and Wagon
Work to Barker's shop (Gardner’s Old Stand)
where you can get it done promptly, of good mate
rial and at reasonable prices. No please no pay
Terms positively cash, unless satisfactory arrange
ments are made to the contrary aud payment made
sure beyond the shadow ot a doubt-
April 16,1873. 39 tf
maybe, some enquiring monkey, grey
w hiskered, leading two or three of ten
derer years, as if be were their tutor,
on a naturalist’s expedition through the
jungle, stops to look at us with pecu
liar curiosity, as at some singular and
u nexpected specimen, but stands ready
to dodge behind the roots of mangrove
trees in case of danger.
It will be fortunate for the traveller
if while he is rowing up the river,
night shall overtake him; for beside
splendor of the tropic stars above him,
there will be rival .splendors all about
him. The night came down on me
with startling suddenness—for “there
is no twilight within the courts ol
the sun”—just as 1 was waiting at
the mouth of a cross-cut canal, by j
which, when the tide should rise a j
little, I might avoid a long bend in the i
river. By the time the tide had risen,
the night had fallen thick and dark,
and the dense shade of the jungle,)
through which the caual led us, made j
it yet thicker and more dark. Great j
fern leaves ten or fifteen feet in height, j § lves
tip of the highest ueedle to the bas**,! enough to carry if. from Bangkok to | the audacious ape, who just escapes;
from every prominent angle and pro-! Canton. Cotton grows freely beneath j then there are cries of exultation frbm
there were hanging sweet- that burning sky. Sugar, pepper, and the tormenters, who gambol about
all spices, may be had with easy cu!- .joyfully. Occasionally; however, the
tivation. There is gutta-percha in the ) claw is entrapped, aud the victim is
forests. There are dye-stuffs and med-. dragged with the rapidity of lightning
icines in the jungles. The painter g<*ts | beneath the water, when the whole
his gamboge, as its name implies, from ! troop disperse, groaning and shriek-
Cambodia, which is tributary lo their j ing. The misadventure does not, how-
majesties of Bangkok.
THE RARE FRUITS.
As for the fruits, I cannot number
nor describe them. The mangostene,
most delicate and most rare of them
all, grows only iu Siam, and in the
lands adjacent to the Straits of Sunda
and Malacca. Some things we may
have which Siam cannot have, but the
mangostene is her peculiar glory, and
she will not lend it. Beautiful to
sight, smell and taste, it hangs among
its glossy leaves, the prince ot fruits.
Cut through the shaded green and pur
ple of the rind, and lift the upper half
as if it were the cover of a dish, and
the pulp of half-transparent, creamy
whiteness stands in segments like an
orange, but rimmed with darkest crim-
■ son where the rind was cut. It looks
ing from the unseen distance, rippling
the smooth surface of the swift river,
where busy oars and carved or gilded
prows of many boats were flashing in
the sun, sweeping with the pleasant
whispers through the varied richness
of the tropical foliage, stealing the per
fume of its blossoms and the odor of
its fruits, they caught the shining bells
of this great tower, and tossed the mu
sic out of them. Was I awake, I won
dered, or was it some beam of Orien
tal beauty that would presently van
ish?
Something like this Alolian tower
there must be iu the adjacent kingdom
of Birmali, where the graceful pen of
Mrs. Judson has put the scene in
verse:
“On tli* [jagoda spii a
The bulla are riiu-m>r.
Their littlegoldeu eireleta in a flutter
With talea the wooing win la have dared to utter;
Till all are ringing,
As ii a ohoir
Of golden-nested Birds in heaven were singing;
And with a lulling sound
The music floats around
And dropi like balm into the drowsy ear.'’
The verse breathes the spirit, and
almost the very sound, of the
j ... • j , ’ bewitching tropical scene on which I
grew dense on either side, and, tan . , -
- looked, aud out of which »•>« “ nuiain
Boarding House
O N account of the destruction of the Milledgeville
Hotel by fire I have opened my house for the ac
commodation of Hoarders—transient ami regular.
M. h. EDWAKD5.
Milledgeville, Nov 23, 1872. J8 tf
R. E. jWcRE YJ)TOLDS,
den
TIST,
C AN be found at his office over C'araker’s Store
at all times, where he will take great pleasure in
waiting upon all who may favor him with their kiud
natri.i niro will crnnmnt t_e satifjtactiuQ in till opera-
patronage, und will gnaran'te satistaction
tiocs.
March IS, 1873.
34 3m.
Wynn’s
Throat
Improved Open
Curved Rib
COTTON tilNS.
Taihr Planters of Matilvvin
and Adjoining Fonntien:
1 AM now ready to Make and Repair Cotton Gin* on
short notiee, at Midway, two miles south of Mil
isdgeville. All work done warranted to peiform well
or no pay.
The improved Curved Breast $ I per saw. The old
•bj* Breast |3 o9 per saw
Repairing done on reasonable terms. Any work de
livered in Milledgeville, or at the Milledgevi'le De
pots, will he attended to free of any charge to and
from my shop I desire the early attention of my pat
rons to one particular: Give me time by sending in
in your orders or work, at once, as it is impossible to
one man to serve a dozen at the same time. As I re
quire no pay until the woik is approved of, gire me
time. Add ees me at Milledgeville. ^ y \ \
B.8. An experience of 23 years and my terms, are
sufficient recomaiendations-, however, if references
are desired they will be cheerfully furnished.
April 18,1873 39 3m
Carriage Shop.
rjEO. A. GARDNER announces to the puolic that
he has opened a ehop opposite tbe ebop formerly
occupied by R E. Gardner, where be will carry on
the business of manufacturing and repairing any and
ell kinds of vehicles. Particular attention will be
P«id to tbe
Doing’ Up of Carriages. Re trimming.
&c., Ac.
Satisfaction will be given both in material*, durability
•od in price*.
Milledgeville, Q*., 12,1873. 28 ly
One of the latest issues of Scribner,
Armstrong, & Co.’s “Illustrated Li
brary of Travel, Exploration, and Ad
venture,” treats of “Siam, the Land of
the White Elephant.” It is almost
like reading a romance, to read the
wonderful accounts of scenery and
manners in that little known quarter
of the world. Here is what Bayard
Taylor and George B. Bacon saw on
entering the river and approaching
Bangkok, the Siamese capital:—
The entrance into the Kingdom of
Siam by the great river, which divides
the country east and west, brings the
traveller at once into all the richness
and variety of tropical nature, and is
well suited to produce an impression
of the singular beauty and vast re
sources ot the “Land of the White
Elephant.” For this is the name that
may properly be given to the kingdom,
since the flag of the country has been
established. A very curious flag it
makes—the white elephant on a red
flag—and very oddly it must look if
it is ever necessary to hoist it upside
down as a signal of distress; a signal
eloquent indeed, for anything more
helpless and distressing than the clum
sy quadruped in that position can
hardly be imagined.
The editor of this volume visited
Siam in one of the vessels of the Uni
ted States East India Squadron in
1857, and was present at the exchange
of the ratifications of the treaty made
in the previous year aud will here de
scribe the impression made upon him
at his first entrance into the country
of the Meitiam.
There is enough to see in Siam, if
only it could be described. But noth
ing is harder than to convey in words
the indescribable charm ol tropical life
and scenery; and it was in this, in
great measure, that the enjoyment ol
my months in Bangkok consisted. Al
ways, behind the events which occu
pied day by day, and behind the men
and things with which we had to do,
was the pervading charm of tropical
nature—of soft, warm sky, with float
ing, fleecy clouds, and infinite depths
blue beyond them; of golden sunlight,
flooding everything by day; and when
the day dies its sudden death, of mel
low moonlight, as if from a perennial
harvest moon; and of stars, that do
not glitter with a hard and pointed ra
diance, as here, but melt through the
mild air with glory in which there is
never any thought of “twinkling.” Al
ways there was the teeming life of
land and sea, of jungle and river; and
the varying influence of fruitful na
ture, captivating every sense with
sweet allurement. Bead Mr. Tenny
son’s “Lotos Eaters,” if, you want to
know what the tropics are.
It was drawing toward the middle
of a splendid night iu May, when 1
found myself among the “palms and
temples” of this singular city. It had
been a tiresome journey from the
mouth of the river, rowing more than
a score of miles against the rapid cur
rent; and, if there could be monotony
in the wonderful variety and richness
of tropical nature it would have been
a wonderful journey. But the wealth
of foliage, rising sometimes in the
feathery plumes ol the tall areca palm
of all palms tbe stateliest—or droop
ing sometimes in heavier aud^ larger
masses; crowding to the water s edge
in dense, impenetrable j un S e >
checked here and there by the tool ot
cultivation; or cleared for uwelling—
was a constant wonder and delight.
Now and then we passed a bamboo
house, raised high ou poles above the
ground, and looking like a bird’s nest
in the trees; but they were featherless
bipeds who peered out from the
branches at the passing boats; and not
bird’s uotes, butcbildrt -\s voices, that
clamored in wonder, or were silenced
in awe at the white-fa*. ~d strangers.
Sometimes, the white walaan l shin-
like, almost met our heads. Above
them stretched the forest trees. Among
them rose the noise of night-birds, liz
ards, brumbeter-beetle, and creatures
cout tiess and various, making a hoarse
din, W’hich if not musical, at least wa3
lovely. But the jungle, with its dark
ness and its din, had each a beauty as
I never had seen equalled, w’hen its
myriad fireflies sparkled thick on every
side. I had seen fireflies befoie, and
had heard of them; but I had never
seen or heard, nor have I since tlien
ever seen or heard, of anything like
these. The peculiarity of them was —
not that they were so many, though
they were innumerable—not that they
were so large, though they were very
large—but that they clustered, as by a
preconcerted plan, on certain kinds of
trees, avoiding all other kinds, and
then, as if by a signal from some di
rector of the spectacle, they all sent
forth their light at once, at simultane
ous and exact intervals, so that the
whole tree seemed to flash and palpi
tate with living light. Imagine it.
At one instant was blackness of dark
ness and the croaking jungle. Then
suddenly, on every side flashed out
these fiery trees, the form of each,
from topmost twig to outmost bough,
set thick with flaming jewels. It was
easy to imagine at the top of each some
big, white-waisted firefly, with the bat
on of a director, ordering the move
ments of the rest.
This peculiarity of the Siamese fire
flies’/or, as our popular term graphi
cally describes them, the tropical
“lightning-bugs” was noticed as long
ago as the time of old Kampfer, who
speaks concerning them as follows:
“The glow worms settle on some
trees like a fiery cloud, with this sur
prising circumstance, that a whole
swarm of these insects, having taken
possession of one tree and spread them
selves over its branches, sometimes,
hide their light all at once, and a mo
ment after make it appear again,
with the utmost regularity and exact
ness, as if they were in a perpetual
systole and diastole.”
The lapse of centuries has wrought
no change iu the rhythmical regulari
ty of the surprising exhibition. Out
upon the river, once again; the houses
on the shore began to be morenumer
ous, and presently began to crowd to
gether in continuous succession; and
from some of them the sound of mer
ry laughter and pleasant music issu
ing, proved that not all the citizens of
Bangkok were asleep. The soft light
of the cocoanut oil lamps supplied the
place of the illumination of the fire
flies. Boats, large and small, were
passing swiftly up and down the
stream; now and then the tall masts
of some merchants ship loomed indis
tinctly large through the darkness. 1
could dimly see high towers of tem
ples and broad roofs of palaces; and
I stepped on shore, at last, on the
‘ Dark shore, jast seen that it was rich,”
with a half bewildered feeling that I
was passing through some pleasant
dream of the Arabian Nights, from
which I should presently awake.
Even when the flooding sunlight of
the tropical morning poured in through
the windows, it was difficult for me to
realize that I was not in some unreal
land. There was a sweet, low sound
of music filling the air with its clear,
liquid tones. And, joining with the
music, was the pleasant ringing of a
multitude of little bells, ringing, I
knew not where. . It seemed as if the
air was full of them. Close by, on
one side, was the palace of a prince,
and somewhere in his house or in his
court-yard there were people play
ing upon instruments of music, made
of smoothed and hollowed bamboo.
But no human hands were busy with
the bells. Within a stone’s throw of
my window rose the shining tower of
the most splendid temple iu Bangkok.
From its broad, octagonal base to the
tip of its splendid spire, it must meas
ure, I should think, a good deal more
than two hundred feet, and every inch
of its irregular surface glitters with or
naments. Curiously wrought into it
are forms of men and birds, and grotes
que beasts that seem, with outstretch
ed hands or claws, to hold it up. Two-
thirds of the way from the base, stand,
I remember, four white elephants,
wrought in shining porcelain, facing
each way toward the four points ot
the compass. From the rounded sum
mit rises, like a needle, a sharp spire.
This was the temple tower, and all
over the msgnificent pile, from the
the “ music
of the bells” was blown to :ne on my
first morning iu Bangkok.
No doubt my first impressions (which
I have giveu with some detail,und with
all the directness of “that right line I”)
were fortunate. But three or four
weeks of Bangkok could not wear
them oft' or counteract them. It is
the Venice of the East. Its highway
is the river, and canals are its byways.
There are streets, as in Venice, used
by pedestrians ; but the travel and the
carriage is, for the most part, done by
boats. Only in place of the verdure
less margin of tbe watery streets,
which gives to Venice, with all its
beauty, a half-dreary aspect, there is
in Bangkok greenest foliage shadowing
the water, and mingling with the
dwellings, palaces aud temples on the
shore ; and instead of the funeral gon
dolas of monotonous color, with soli
tary <rondolitr$, are boats of every size
and variety, paddled sometimes by one
and sometimes by a score of oarsmen.
Some of the bamboo dwellmgs of the
humble class are built, literally, on
the floating on rafts, a block of them
together, or raised on poles above the
surface of the water. The shops ex
pose their goods upon the river side
and wait for custom from the throng
ing boats. The temples and palaces
stand of course, on solid ground, but
the river is the great Broadway, and
houses crowd upon the channel of the
boats, and boats pump the houses. It
is a picturesque and busy scene on
which you look as you pass amid the
throng. Royal boats, with carved and
gilded prows, with shouting oarsmen,
rush by you, hurrying with rapid cur
rent, or the little skiff of some small
peddler, with his assortment of vari
ous “notions,” paddling and peddling
by turns, is dexterously urged along
its way. Amid all this motiou aud
traffic is that charm and silence which
makes Venice so dream-like. No rum
ble of wheels nor clatter of hoofs dis
turb you. Only the sound of voices,
softened as it comes along the smooth
water, or the music of a palace, or the
tinkling of the bells of a pagoda, break
the stillness. It is a beautiful Broad
way, without the Broadway roar and
din.
Of course, where so much wealth is
lavished on public buildings, there
must be great resources to draw from;
and, indeed, the mineral wealth of the
country appears at almost every town.
Precious stones and the precious met
als seem to be as frequent as the fire
flies in the jungle. Sometimes, as in
the silver currency, there is an absence
of all workmanship ; the coinage be
ing little lumps of silver, rudely roll
ed together in a mass and stamped.—
But sometimes, as in the teapots, be
tel-nut boxes, cigar-holders with which
the noblemen are provided when they
go abroad, you will see workmanship
of no mean skill. Often these vessels
elegantly wrought. Sometimes
ever, prevent their recommencing the
game a few days afterwards.
—»^^s^~-*
MASSACRED.
White Assassins Attack the Modoc
Prisoners.
Efforts oj Fairchild to Sate their Lives.—
Brutal Murders und Indian Stoicism.
they are studded with jewels ; some
times they are beautifully enamelled
in divers colors. Once I called upon
a noble, who brought out a large as
sortment of ancient stones—some of
them of great value—and passed them
to me as one would a snuff-box, not
content till I bad helped myself.—
More than once I have seen chiidren of
the nobles with no covering at all, ex
cept the strings of jewelled gold, that
hung in barbarous opulence upon their
neck and shoulders, but there was
wealth enough in these to fit the little
fellows with a large assortment of the
most fashionable and Christian appar
el, even at the ruinous rate of tailors’
prices at tbe present day. To go about
among these urchins, and among the
houses of the nobles and the king’s
palaces, gives the half-bewildered and
half-covetous feeling that it gives to be
conducted by polite but scrutinizing
attendants through a mint. Surely we
bad come at last to
‘ Where the gorgeous East, with richest hand.
Showers ou her kings barbaric pearl aud gold.* 1
Of course, of all this wealth the king's
share was the lion’s share.
Then, as for vegetable wealth, I do
ndt know that there is anywhere a
richer valley in the world than the
valley of the Meinam. All the pro
ductions of the teeming tropics may
grow luxuriantly here. There was
rice enough in Siam, the year before
my visit, to feed the native population
and to supply the failure cf the rice
crop in southern China, preventing
thus the havoc of a famine in that
crowded empire, and making fortunes
for tbe merchants who were prompt
too beautiful to eat, but how the
rarest, sweetest essence of the tropics
seems to dwell in it as it melts to the
delighted taste !
For everything there is a Compen
sation. If we do not have the mau-
gostene, we do not have the durian—
of all fruits, at first, the most intolera
ble, but said, by those who have
smothered their prejudices, to be ol all
fruits, at last, the most indispensable.
When it is brought to you at first, you
clamor till it is removed ; if there are
durians in the next room to you, you
cannot sleep. Chloride ol lime and
disinfectants seem to be its natural
remedy. To eat it seems to be the
sacrifice of self-respect, but endure it
fora while, with closed nostrils, taste
it once or twice, and you will cry for
durians thenceforth, even—I blush to
write it—before the glorious maDgo-
Btene. I have mentioned only the two
extremes of the immense variety of
fruits. One day the King sent to our
party more than a hundred brazen
dishes, full of I do not know what va
rious kinds. Piles of golden oranges
and mangoes; pine-apples, blushing
beneath their thorney skins ; bananas,
fresh and luscious. The memory of
the heaped up dishes is enough to
make one glow with tropical delight
in January.
This is the laud of the White Ele
phant, so singular, so rich, so beauti
ful.
Mons. Mouhot confirms Mr. Bacon’s
account of the strange character of
the fruit above described—the “ duri
an.” He says : Tne fruit here is ex
quisite, particularly the mango, the
mangostene, the pine apple—so frag
rant and melting in the mouth—and,
wbat is superior to anything I ever
imagined or tasted, the famous “ du
rian,” or “dourion,” which justly
merits the title ot king of fruits. But
to enjoy it thoroughly one must have
time to overcome the disgust at first
inspired by its smell, which is so strong
that I could not stay in the same place
with it. On first tasting it I thought
it irke the flesh of some animal in a
state of purification, but after four or
five trials, I found the aroma exquisite.
The “ durian” is about two-thirds the
size of the jacca, and like it, is en
cased in a thick and prickly rind
which protects it from the teeth of
squirrels and other nibklers ; on open
ing it there are to be found ten cells,
each containing a kernal larger than a
date, and surrounded by a sort ot
white or sometimes yellowish cream,
which is most delicious. By an odd
freak of nature, not only is there the
first repugnance to be overcome, but
if you eat it often, though with ever
so great moderation, you find ysurself,
the next day, covered with blotches
as if attacked with measles, so heating
is its nature. A “ durian” picked is
never ripe, for when fully ripe it falls
of itself; when cut open it must be
eaten at once, as it quickly spoils, but
otherwise it will keep for three days.
At Bangkok one of them costs one
selung; at Chantaboun nine may be
obtained for the same sum.
THE MONKEYS AND THE CROCODILES.
Here is another interesting scene :
Crocodiles are more numerous in
the river at Packnam Ven than in
Chantaboun. I continually saw them
throw themselves from tho banks into
the water; and it has frequently hap
pened that careless fishers, or persons
who have imprudently fallen asleep on
the shore, have become their prey or
have afterwards died of the wouuds iu-
flicted by them. This latter has hap
pened twice during my stay here. It
is amusing, however, for one who is
interested in observing the habits ot
animals all over the world, to see the
manner in which these creatures catch
the apes, which sometimes take a tan-
cy to play with them.
Close to the bank lies the crocodile,
his body in the water and only his
capacious mouth above the surface,
ready to seize anything that may come
within reach. A troop of apes catch
sight of him, seem to consult together,
approach a little and commence their
frolics, by turns actors and specta
tors. One of the most active and most
impudent jumps from branch to
branch, till within a respectful dis
tance of the crocodile, when, hanging
by one claw, and with the dexterity
peculiar to these animals, he advances
and retires, now giving his enemy a
blow with his paw, at another time
only pretending to do so. The other
apes, enjoying the fun, evidently wish
to take a part in it, but the other
branches beiug too high, they form a
sort of chain, by laying hold of each
other's paws, and thus swing back
wards and lorwards, while any one of
them who comes within reach of the
crocodile torments him to the best of
his ability. Sometimes the terrible
jaws suddenly close, but not upon
Washington, Juue 9, 1S73.
Dispatches from Boyles Camp, da
ted yesterdav, relate the particulars
of an atrocious massacre of Modoc
prisoners, supposed to have been per
petrated by Oregon volunteers. Sat
urday morning Jas. Fairchild and
about a dozen other men left Fair-
child’s Ranch, on Cottonwood creek,
with seventeen Modoc captives, inclu
ding women aud children and Shack-
nasty Jim, Bogus Charley, Tehee
Jack, Pony and Little John. The In
dians were in a wagon drawn by four
mules. At the crossing of Lost River
the party encountered a body or Ore
gon volunteers, under the command
of Captain Hiser. The soldiers gath
ered about the wagon, and questioned
Fairchild. The latter told them the
Indians were all Hot Creeks except
Little John, and there were no charges
against them. Fairchild undertook to
push ou to Boyles’ catup, and the vol
unteers retired to their camp, near
Crowley’s. On the road Fairchild
noticed two men ahead, riding to
Rocky Point, as if to intercept him.
When the team approached, two men,
one of them presented a needle-gun
at Fairchild, saying: Get down, you
old white head. By what authority
said Fairchild. By mine. I am going
to kill Indians, and you too was re
plied and the leader caught hold of
the mules aud unhitched them, cut
ting the harness. Fairchild clinging
to the lines, leaped to the ground
Thp poor wretches implored for mercy
and begged Fairchild to save them.
The warriors were unarmed and koew
resistance was useless. They were the
coolest in the party, although fearing
inevitable death, but the woman and
children shrieked and groaned and
wept piteously. Fairchild had noth
ing but a small pistol, and six inches
from his ear was the muzzle of a needle
He says tears came into his
gun.
eyes and he mingled his entreaties
with those of the Modocs in hopes the
massacre might be avoided. He adds
it was a terrible scene, one I shall
never forget. I shudder when I think
what I saw and heard; the tearful
voices of those women and children
still rings in my ears; but the coward
ly hounds were not to be balked. A
shot and Little John lay dead iu the
wagon with a bulletin his braiu. The
mules dashed away with Fairchild,
who became entangled in tbe lines.
Five more shots were fired in rapid
succession, by which Tehee Jack,
Pony and Mooch were killed and Lit
tle John’s squaw was frightfully
wounded in the shoulder. Away ahead
on the road in the direction of Boyles’
Camp a cloud of dust was perceived,
indicating the approach of a team.
The murdereis espied the dust and
shortly afterwards were riding away.
Sergeant Murphy, of battery G.
Fourth artillery, with ten men and
teamster, came up to the scene of mas
sacre. The Sergeant took charge of
affairs, and remained with his men on
the ground.
Fairchild, a teamster, and a wound
ed squaw, with her two children,
came in camp at two o’clock this
morning.
It is generally supposed the guilty
party were Oregon volunteers. Fair-
child is of that opinion himself. The
warriors killed were not charged with
murder. Those who know them best
say they have only participated in open
fights. Every one here condemn^the
affair as atrocious and without excuse.
There is no doubt but the murders
were carried out upon a carelully ar
ranged plan, as Fairchild noticed horse
men on the road ahead and behind
when shots were fired. Had John
Fairchild or James been present an
other murder might have been added
to the list, as the Oregonians are bit
ter in their hatred to John, the old
man, and the other Californians. The
Warm Spring Indians have only a few
weeks longer to serve.
Sergeant Clinton is fast failing.
SECOND DISPATCH.
Boyle’s Camp, Juue 9, 1873; 3 pm.
An interview betweeu General Da
vis, Captain Jack, and Schonchin has
just euded. The Modoc chief says he
was incited to his cruel warfare by
Allen David, chief of the Klamaths.
He also denied having killed General
Canby, and laid the blame on his boys.
Schouchin tells the same story.
THE GREASERS.
Mexican Denunciation of McKenzie s
Raid—The Greasers Defiant and Bel
ligerent— Threats and Retaliation—A
Hint at Another Grab of Territory.
New Orleans, June 9, 1873.
The Matamoras Vos Puebiica, tbe
government organ, has an editorial
headed “Invasion,” severely criticising
General McKenzie’s expedition into
Mexico, in pursuit of the Kickapoo In
dians, denouncing the act as so aggres
sion committed upon a nation that is
too weak to resist and intended to
serve as a pretext to seize additional
territory.
The government of Mexico is urg
ed to exact immediate reparation for
this violation of her sovereignty, and
concludes by saying that if it is not
complied with it will be found that the
Mexico of to-day is not the Mexico Of
1S46. It is supposed that this article
reflects the sentiments of the govern
ment, received from the City ot Mexi
co by telegraph, and is put forward
to test the feelings of the people of the
frontier Mexican States.
Mexican Neus via St. Louis.
St. Louis, June 9,1S73.
Dr. D. H. Williams, who has resi
ded in Chihuahua two years, has ar
rived here. Dr. Williams confirms the
capture of the Mexican-Indian chief
Lasada. It was believed he was im
mediately shot. Dr. Williams thinks
there will be no serious complaint over
McKenzie’s incursion after tne Kicka-
poos. Williams, however, thinks the
Mexicans will use McKenzie’s exploit
as a precedent, and follow home the
marauders into United States territo
ry. This will eventually lead to trou
ble, and plunge the frontier into war.
Such a result would, however, be hail
ed by many as desirable, as it would
lead to the carving out of another fat
slice from the sick man on the South
ern border. There are, however, ef
forts being made by some of the lead
ing parties on the Mexican side of the
Rio Grande,which may lead to negotia
tions for the annexation of more Mexi
can territory in order to strengthen the
boundary line and by which Mexico
will be enabled to pay her debts. The
toiritory conveyed for this purpose
embraces the States of Nuevo, Leon,
Cohahuila, Chihuahua, north end of
Duraugo,Sonora and Lower California.
Known as Mexican frontier States, this
would shorten the boundary line on
half of the present meandering of the
Rio Grande and leave a frontier that
could be much more easily protected
by both nationalities, whereas it is al
most impossible to do so with present
boundaries. It would.be a vast territory
with fine irrigable and mineral lands
and pasturage which are now really
worthless to the Mexican people.
A Notable Anniversary.—Two
hundred years ago the coming 17th of
June, the Mississippi was discovered,
according to the historian, and it is
proposed to revive the half-forgotten
memories of Marquette and Joliet by
celebrating the event at St. Louis and
other places on the line of the historic
river. On the 10th of June, 1673,
Marquette and Joilet, priest and mer
chant, attended by five other French
men and two Indians, left Green bay
for the southwest. They ascended the
Fox river in canoes to the dividing
ridge between it and the Wisconsin.
Carrying their light canoes on their
shoulders across the “divide,” they
launched them upon the Wisconsin.
All but Marquette and Joliet returned
to Green bay. The heroic priest and
merchant descended to the newly-dis
covered river, and on the 17th of
June, 1673, they glided out of the
Wisconsin upon the bosom of the up
per Mississippi, “with joy,” says the
discoverer, “that I cannot express.”
Thence they pursued their explora
tions to the mouth of the'Arkansas
river, and returned by the way of the
Illinois river, arriving at their settle
ment at Green bay the 1st of Septem
ber. And now, says the St. Louis
Republican, after a lapse of two hun
dred years, after the wilderness they
found has been converted into fields
and gardens; after the wigwam vil
lages have faded away, and the shad
ows of mighty cities fall upon the
waters of the stream they found flow
ing through trackless wilds, it is pro
posed to erect some suitable memorial
which shall preserve their fame until
the latest times.
How to Make Money.—There is
no subject more important, and none
so generally neglected, in most sys
tems of education, as this. To what
should educational effort tend, if not
to arm the student for the battle of
life? Now we ask in all seriousness ;
does the usual educational training of
the present day do this ? By no means.
The instruction of our schools and
colleges is sadly deficient in this re
spect. The pupil is compelled to learn
many thiuga of no use whatever to
him in this struggle with the worid,
while he is left entirely ignorant of
the most practical lesson of all—the
art of accumulation—the science of
success. He may indeed graduate at
the best college iu the land, and his
diploma declare him fitted for some
high-sounding profession; but, for the
want of knowledge in the art of mo-
ney-getting, he is too often doomed to
a life of unrequited toil, deprivation,
hardship and disappointment. Should
be at last, perchance stumble upon
the hidden spring of success, it is not
until tribulation and mental anguish
have made of the past a desert waste,
aud when too late to apply the dis
covery to advantage. Now this state
of affairs demands a remedy, and that
remedy can only be found in a thor
ough and practical course of business
training for all classes.
— ♦ —i
A bad marriage is like an electric
machine; it makes you dance, and you
can’t let go.
Singularly none of the papers have
yet said that in these days of bustles
every woman is a paper carrier.
“Mamma, can’t we have anything
we want?” “Yes, my dears; but be
careful and not want anything you
can’t have.”
Some men go about the world with
their hands in their pockets. That is
better, though, than if they went
about with their hands in other peo
ple's pockets.
At a recent dinner of shoemakers,
the following toast was given: “May
we have all tha women m the country
to shoe and aU ths men to boot.”