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®he Sunday Sdeyram.
SAVANNAH, JUNK 17, 1883.
'<>l.l II l>E |
Laugh, an<l the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For Ute sad obi earth must borrow its mirth.
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, ami the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn ami go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not heed your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad. ami' you lose them all.
There are none todecline your nectaretoaine. i
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your hall- are crowded;
Fast, and'the world goes by; •
Succeed ami give, and it helps you to live,
But no man cau help you die.
There is room in the halls ot pleasure
For a large and lordly traiu,
But one by one we must all tile on
Through the narrow aisle of pain.
—EUa Wheeler.
illoritiitix Undo Srrialo.
DESIRE WENTWORTH."
A lUiMAXt'EOi J’IUH INI IALTIMEB.
BY Miss R. J. PHILBRICK.
CHAPTER IX.
WITCHCRAFT ( ? ).
Hiding the treasure he had received
from Captain de Fleury securely under his
ample cloak, Phineas left the ship, keep
ing, at first, warily out of the sight of
chance observers, and took his way home
ward. He was just in time to join the
family at the midday meal, and therefore
escaped all awkward questions-as to his
previous movements. In answer to the
comments made upon Dr. Wentworth’s
absence, Phineas hinted, what was in
deed true, that his uncle had thought it
prudent to avoid being seen in the town
that day.
“He 's probably wandering in the
woods now trying to reconcile himself to
his daughter's fate, poor old man! He
desired to be leit alone, and I have not
seen him since 1 left ir n near the wharf
some time a ;o,” Phineas innocently sug
gested, and hastened to attack the “samp”
and “succotash”—succulent viands, the
reeipi-s for which were obtained from the
native savage, bu which were plats not
to Is- scorned by the civilized palate.
Nothing was, o. course, talked ot but
the trial of the morning, and the zeal and
eloquence displayed by the worthy di
vines who had.presided over it.
“A godly man is Dr. Mather, and full
of unction,” said Deacon Pyncheon;
“yet 1 could not but pity the poor maid,
so young and fair, and to die so foul a
death, it doth seem a hasty judgment,
and a cruel—”
“Thou shalt not sutler a witch to
live,” quoted his sterner-minded wife.
“Her youth doth but make her sin the more
aliominable, and her trial was a fair one.
Keep thy pity, Abel, for the innocent
lambs tormented by the spells of the
witch accurst.”
“True,mother,” put in Phineas,with im
perturbable gravity and a sanctimonious
whine, “may the Lord look with compas
sion upon their sufferings—and reward
them. ’Twas a niteous sight! Ifthe inno
cent Jambs ban been gorging themselves
with unripe apples, they could not have
twisted their little bodies into more ago
nized contortions,” and he groaned sym
pathetically.
Rejoice gave him a ouick. suspicious
glance, bu. she saw only the whites of his
eyes as he rolled them upto the ceiling,
words having failed as an adequate ex
pression of his feelings.
“Well,” she said, coldly, “they will not
have to suffer much longer from her
spells; a few hours more and there will be
one witch the less.’
“Perhaps so, my fair and tender-heart
ed cousin,” said Phineas under his
breath; but aloud: “Amen! the land is
well rid ot such evil cattle; let us pray
that none may escape.”
His mother looked at him approvingly,
but had no time to offer any remarks of
her own before Phineas broke out in an
other tone:
“Mother—oh —I feel decidedly unwell.
Either the succotash hath disagreed with
me, or that witch Desire did east hei
eye upon me with evil intent, and is
even now worki ig her wicked will, yea.
through the prison walls. O-o-o-h!” ami
he finished up with a howl and a con
fo. .ion of the latest style.
Rejoice looked at him critically, offer
ing neither aql nor comfort; but his anx
ious parents rose hurriedly from the table
to administer both; his mother seized the
Biide; his father sought tile ilask of
brandy, as they respectively considered
that his ease required spiritual or spiritu
ous treatment.
The stricken Phineas gratefully drained
the glass of brandy which his anxious
father held to his lips and listened dutifully
to the tex.s of Scripture that his still
more anxious mothe. read over him as an
improvised exorcism against possible,
nay probable w itchcraft, but he declined
io have his case further investigated by
Dr. Cotton Mather, as his mother pro
posed, with an obduracy that savored
strongly of an evil spiritof some sort, and
increased her fears.
“It may be only the effects of too much
succotash, mother, and what could we
say to the reverend doctor of divinity if he
found he w as called in to a ease which re
quired a mere doctor of medicine! 1 ” said
tie, wit.i ant icipative consternation in his
face.
His mother succumbed to the force of
this argument, and tenderly escorted him
to his ow a room, w here he begged to be
left alone io the test of time as to the
nature of his malady.
“Nay, I v> H watch beside thee, my
won," said his mother. “Who knoweth
what power Satan and the witch may
gain over thee if thou :trt left un
guarded!”
But the idea of being watched over,
••ven for his soul's good, did not at all ac
cord with o ber’deas Juti had entered into
I he mind of Phineas.
“Nay, mother. I would fain follow the
counsel of the blessed Psalmist, and com
mune with my ow n heart upon my bed
and lie still.” murmured the audacious
young hypocrite “Kindly place the
Bible under my pillow; it will be asasafe
guardagainst all the machinations of the
evil one. You and my father will pray
for me in meet ing. 1 crave your suppli
cations in my behalf also sweet cousin,"
he said to Rejoice, w Th a languishing look
over his shoulder as he turned to leave
the sitting-room with his mother.
“And thou had t better take the brandy
with thee to have it at hand should the
crumpi return,' suggested his practical
minded father, git ing him the ilask—the
days of Temperance Societies were not
then, and the puissant virtues of aqua vita
were firmly believed in, “We will look in
• q>on thee before we depart for meeting."
The fond mother would still have linger
ed beside her “afflicted” one, but was
dually overruled by his, “An thou lovest
me, mother, leave me awhile to silent
meditation,” and was fain to let him have
his own way—wlticii, indeed, the spoiled
youth generally got, spite of the stern
discipline that prevailed in Puritan house
holds.
Phineas lay down on his bed according
ly U> "commune with bi: own heart." and
was very “still" in ti e enjoyment of a
giHMi nap. But he was awake again
when his anxious parents visited him
before going to the evening meeting.
He professed himself much better, but
.'till too unwell to attend the meeting,
xind again solicited their prayers, which
tiiev fervently promised.
'Io his consternation, however. Rejoice
showed a disposition to remain at home,
a contingency which be hail not calcu
lated upon, and a purjmse which was to
Le foiled at all hazards. At her first hint,
therefore, of remaining to enliven hi'
solittide, he groaned and again implored
her to join the godly band who would
prav in his behalf.
"I can pray al home just as well.” an
swered Rejoice, obstinately.
Whereupon Madam Pyncheon rebuked
her sharply for her presumption in as
suming that her solitary prayers veil hl be
as effectual as when joined with tboae of
the godly, and in a consecrated place of
worship.
Whatever suspicions Rejoice entertain
<ed in regard to the moveuo nts of Phi
neas. or whatever designs of hi* abe ex
pected to frustrate by remaining gj
’ home, she did not dare to insist upon do
ing so after Aunt Susannah's homily, and
she allowed herself to be carried aw ay
w ith the best grace she could assume.
When finally left sole occupant of the
family roottree—literally, for his room wa*
by his own choice in the garret—Phineas
arose from his bed and cautiously pro
ceeded to the lower story. Here he
paused at a window and watched the re
ineniing forms of his relatives, well de
fined in the crimson light that still linger
ed in the west, and tinged the lurid clouds
.that were driven by the rising wind.
When even Rejoice, who was some
t aids in the rear of his parents, was quite
out of sight, and he could safely count
upon an uninterrupted solitude for the
next two hours. Phineas hastily ;>iadehis
way to Desire’s room.
But, being there, ho came to a sudden
■standstill, and gazed around him with a
very perplexed expression. J'he tact is.
■that among the many less useful ideas
•which present' d themselves to this whim
sical young man during his homeward
walk from the snip was a very timely re
flection, one which ought rather to have
•Entered accroding to act of Congress in the
year iss'l by -I. 11. LUill. in the office of the
Librarian pf Cougrvw »i Washington.
presented itself to Desire’s father, namely:
her need of Rome other clothing for a long
voyage than the garments she was then
wearing. He knew he would have to
procure this needful supply himself in
some way or other: hence his absurd pro
' feeding in order to secure the opportuni
ty, though the element of witchcraft that
his own inborn deviltry had prompted him
to introduce, had nearly recoiled upon his
head and defeated him at the outset.
j Having accomplished this much, how
i ever, toward the attainment of his pur
pose, what was he to do next? What did
he know of woman's clothes? and how
' was he to abstract a sufficient quantity for
I Desire’s needs, yet not leave her box so
I empty as to excite remark when his
i mother came to examine her possessions
j after the mysterious disappearance of
■ father and daughter from human ken?
He lifted the lid of the chest, which he
; knew to be Desire’s, and looked down
upon its dainty white contents with a
mixture of respectful awe and comical
embarrassment.
“I suppose I had better take a couple
of each of these things that have different
shapes. I don’t think I dare take more;
they would be missed—and the bundle be
too big for safe carriage, perhaps,” he
continued to soliloquize as he knelt beside
the chest and unfolded, half feeling that
he was committing sacrilege the while,
one dainty garmen. after the other until
certain that he had secured a couple of
all the different “patterns” that the chest
contained.
“I don’t know what Desire will say
when she sees them and guesses how they
reached her," turning red and laughing
to himself, “but I know she cannot help
being thankful to have them.”
Replacing everything else carefully in
the chest, he made as compact a bundle
as be could of his selections, and then as
certaining by the timepiece that he had
an hour more at his disposal, he manfully
shouldered his burden and took his way
with all speed and caution in the direc
tion of the “Hirondelle.”
An exchange of watchwords with Cap
tain de Fleury, a name mentioned and his
errand was successfully accomplished.
Half an hour after his anxious parents
found him where they had left him, and
—apparently—sleeping the sleep of guile
less youth.
CHAPTER X.
THE RESCUE.
When Desire was left alone in the
prison—to all he horrors it implied in her
case, with only one day between her
present misery end :• shameful death, her
native courage and the excitement that
had hitherto upborne her now tailed utter
ly, "nd she sank down in a state of mental
and physical prostration. The reaction
from the “train to which every faculty had
been subjected to maintain her undaunt
ed spirit befo e her accusers was now
upon her, and for a time she could feel
nothing but an overwhelming unreason
ing terror of ihe fate that awaited her.
She kept mutte ing over and over, as if
indeed almost reduced to idiocy:
“To be hanged—hanged—hanged! To
stand upon the scaffold, the shameful
thing; to be stared at and jeered at by the
hateful mocking crowd, and then to be
hanged by the leek until I am dead, dead,
dead!”
She put her hands wildly to her neck as
she spoke. Tie motion had been spas
modic, unconscious, but the touch of her
ice-cold lingers upon her throat had the
effect of ecalling her scattered senses.
She ceased muttering, and her native
composed self-reliance in some measure
returned; but she still could not but
brood in an agony of thought upon her
present surroundings and coming fate.
To be condemned as guilty of the most
execrable crime known to the age—and
we who read about this forgotten super
stitior curiously o. carelessly, can little
realize the abhorrence and the terror it
induced to die for such a cause and by
such a death; she in the bloom and
strength of her youth, in the virgin pride
and modesty of her womanhood, to be
swung off amid the gaping crowd, with
such words sounding in her ears as the
Rev. Cotton Mather had used. She to
stand there with the rope around her
neck, compelled to hear the solemn curses
of those who honestly believed her to be
a witch. Where was God’s justice? her
soul asked fiercelv and wildly through
the silent dark. Had she not served Him
faithfully her whole life long?—and was
it tor this? He must know her utter in
nocence of the abhorred thing—if it was
witchcraft. She asked not mercy but
bare justice.
The gaoler interrupted the current of
her thoughts Cora moment; he had come
to oring her dole of bread and water.
Opening the doo.- only wide enough to
thrust in his arm, he placed the plate and
pitcher upon the floor, speaking to her
gruffly as he did so. She took no notice
of him whatever; in such utter silence did
she i it beside the barred window, he in
some anxiety looked around the edge of
the door, half fearing that the witch had
made use of her supernatural powers to
fly through the window and thus defeat
the ends of justice. Seeing her seated
there, however, he was satisfied that the
iron ’oars of the window and the iron ring
around her ankle, which chained her to
the floor, would keep her safely where she
was, and he would not lose the exciting
sport ot seeing her hanged. So he only
grumblingly told her that he had brought
her bread and water enough to supply her
wants for the next day. “that none of the
godly be defiled by coming near an accurs
ed witch train the holy Sabbath;” then not
staying to-tear anything she might have
to say, hastily closed and locked the pon
derous door between them, and she was
left once ino~e • i the growir.gdarkness to
the terrible question of God's justice.
She noticed not the lapse of time as she
sat thus. vainly endeavoring to resign her
will to li is, and await with calmness the
fate He permlted her to suffer, but some
hours must have passed since the gaoler
had brought her the food, of which she
had taken no heed, for then the sun was
casting fiis last wan beams athwart the
leaden clouds which threatened a fearful
storm, and the first hopr of the Puritan
Sabbath was on its stroke: now, when she
was at length aroused by hearing her
name called by some one on the other side
of the grated window, a pitchy darkness
shrouded eve. ; object, and the rain fell in
torrents,
“Desire! JtesireJ” was called in a voice
that sounded low anjifi the howling of the
storm, “are you listening?"
The voice was so distinct spite of the
surrounding noise s’ae could not mistake
its owner, though be was the last person
she had expected to come near her now.
“Fliineas!” she cried,her voice express
ing her amazement, “why do you come
here? If you are seen talking'in secret
with the accursed witch " her voice fail
ed :>s she pronounced the last word,
“There is no fear of my being seen,” he
answered, hurriedly; “it is near midnight,
and only witches and their friends are
awake :it this ungodly hour,” he added,
as if unable, even in this moment of anx
iety, to curb hi* humor. But be grew
serious the next moment, “(opsin Desire,”
he said, “I have found means to save you,
but I must not waste time in explanation.
Do jus, us 1 tell you. Your father's safe
ty as well as yours depends upon it. I
am bolding a fife through the grating;
take it and tile the irons tYoip yojjr feet
while I remove these bars,”
"The noise will be heard," she answer
ed. hesitatingly.
"Not through the howling of this storm,
even if there were anyone in the prison
beside yourself, but it is deserted. The
gaoler is absent for the night, But time
goes— ,o work with all speed. You trust
me. Desire?" he asked, as if speaking on
an afterthought.
The unhappy girl hesitated but sos a
second ere she answered; in that second
the thought flashed through hpr ipipd that
come what might in trusting her cousin,
though of late he seemed so much against
her, her fate could be no worse than the
one that awaited her if she refused his
proffered assistance.
"Yes, I will trust you,” she said; add
ing in a voice that thrilled him: “And
(til reward you as you deal by me.”
‘•May it be so." lie returned, solemnly,
and no other word was spoken by either.
The tiles were plied steadily until they
had accomplished their work, ami Desire
was freed from her fetters.
"Can yop climb to fhewindovv-sill easi
ly?” asked Phineas, as fie loosened the
last bar,
“Yes." she answered, aud the mo
ment she stood upon the broad stone
ledge. "1 am here."
“Reach out both ot your hands, then,”
Their eyes, now accustomed to the
dai-fcp-ss of the place, enabled them to
see diml> Ujjeh other's forms. Phineas
had elimt<e<rtt»e bjA’jiches of a tree that
stood near the window, aud pained a foot
hold on the outer sill; he now luuk the
ratlin, with which Captain de
Fleurj J;:'d so thoughtfully provided him.
and fastened if to the lower bar of the
window which lie hud left for that pur
)K>se. The space above wbs byt small for
Desire to squeeze through: siie coplij not
iurp to put her foot upon the first step of
the lander until she was quite outside of
the window, t nbyppily. in the darkness
:uid the confusion caused by the storm
tocfciyl branches, she missed her footing
and feh iiea' ily to the ground, some four
teen feet, i’hiueas heard one groan, and
tfieu all was -.tin.
did not dare to spring from the
branch, to wqiefi Ije bad returned inorder
to give Desire rooqi enough upon the
window-ledge, fearing that in the dark
ness he might strike her in bis fall He
felt along for the ratlin and descended
carefully, peering through the gloom for
tUt prostrate girl. She lay .huddled and
motionless at the foot of the ladder.
“Desire, mj dsr’ing, have 1 oulyaccom
plished your death alter
Desire was not dead. She bad fainted
from pain; but the rain falling ujk»u her
| face bad revived her, aud as Phineas bent
over her in agonized questioning, she
I raised her head a little and said faintly:
I “1 fear I have broken my arm."
»'liiank God it is no worse:” cried X’hi-
neas. fervently. “But are you sure it is
only your arm that is injured?” he add
ed, anxiously.
“I think so,” as lie heljied her up ten
derly. “Yes. I can stand,” she continued.
“It is a merciful Providence that I am
not disabled from walking."
“Then let us make what haste we can,
for the night wanes—but first I must re
move this tell-tale ladder.'
He was up the tree and on the ledge al
most as he spoke, and in another moment
had secured the ratlin and was at her
side again. Then he hurriedly made a
sling of his handkerchief for her arm.
“Would I could bear the pain for vou.
dear cousin.” he said, as he adjusted it:
“but it will not lie long before you are
sate in your father's care, please God.”
They were now hastening forward as
fast as the darkness and Desire's weak
ness would allow, Phineas encouraging
her as they went.
“You.-father is on a vessel that will
put to sea as soon as you are safely on
boaid. Once there you are free of all
danger from your fanatical persecutors,
and before many days will be. God will
ing, in a sunnier and more kindly land
this.”
Tell me how you have managed .1 —
and why. I thought yo • too, Phineas, be
lieved me the wile vvitdh' they called me.
and bad shrunk away trom me like the
rest. I thought, in my misery, that not
even God cared for me, only my father;
and be I knew was powerless to help
me,” said poor Desire, sobbing; her cour
age utterly failing her for the moment in
her pain, tirrrht and weakness.
“And could you really lielieve that of
me, Desire?” asked Phineas. in a tone of
loving reproach, much wounded. “Didi
even credit the orrible absurdity of this
witchcraft, could I, knowing you as 1 do.
possibly connect you with it in any way?
1 though you would know that the’course
I have pursued was only a blind to deceive
your enemies that 1 might be freer to help
you, if help were possible. Your father
understood me better, Desire.”
“Forgive me the doubt. Phineas,” she
replied, humbly; “but if 1 could doubt
God I must doubt all of His creatures.
May He pardon my lack of faith!”
“Y'ou have l>een so sorely tried, my
poor cousin; but I am sure your faith has
only seemed to fail in your own tender
conscience. You have borne yourself
bravely before men," he said, encouraging
ly ; then tfc adroitly turned her thoughts
from herself by giving her an account of
the way ir. which he had met the Hugue
not captain, and how they had planned
her escape between them,' and his subse
quent adventures, which made Desire
smile, until she half forgot her suffering
in listening to him.
He had not quite concluded his narra
tive before they reached the wharf where
the gallant little “Hirondelle” was in
waiting. Phineas bad argued rightly that
no one would be abroad at this hour and
in such weather who could possibly evoid
it. Orly the watches on board of the ves
sel heard the low whistle of Phineas
wh'eh was to warn them of the ap
proach of the fugitives. Captain de
Fleury and one of the sailors came cauti
ously on shore to guide them over the
plank to tae vessel, for they would not
risk a light that might reveal the figure ot
Desire to eyes that might possibly be
looking from one of the dark casements
of the neighboring buildings, and thus ex
cite suspicion and search before the
aiK'hor could be weighed and the vessel
got safely out of reach.
Desire, hall fainting now, was borne be
tween the strong arms of her cousin and
Captain de Fleury across the slippery
plank, and in the next moment her un
conscious head lay upon her father’s
breast.
With all possibly speed the anchor was
weighed and the vessel put to sea. The
storm had by this time somewhat abated,
and the wind, though still very fresh,
was in their favor. The first faint intima
tions of the coming day were just percep
tible on the eastern horizon as the brave
little barque with its precious freight
flew swiftly before the wind, past the
lovely but perilous shore of Marblehead,
and ere the rose of dawn tinted its white
sails, nothing was to be seen around or
above save a vaste waste of blue water
and sky.
*******
At the same hour Madam Pyncheon,
awakened by the first crow of the cock
and simultaneously tilled with anxiety for
her precious son, stole softly to the 'bed
side of that interesting invalid, whom she
found indulging in a refreshing yawn, as
if he too had that moment been awaken
ed by the crowing of the cocks and, ap
parently, from a most delicious slumber.
It is just possible that he had l>een
awake some time previous, and prepared
the tableau of the Waking Beauty for his
mother's benefit when he heard her com
ing; but if such was the case he never
told the secret.
CHAPTER XI.
THE VOYAGE.
Desire was soon recovered from her
fainting fit, but so great was her exhaus
tion that she lay in a half-unconscious
state, spite of the pain of her broken
arm. The fracture proved, fortunately, a
simple one, and Dr. Wentworth, who had
some knowledge of surgery, found no
difficulty in setting it. A’ little more
pain, and the arm was skillfully splinter
ed, but fever supervened, caused more bv
her previous mental- and physical suffer
ings than from the effects of the accident,
and for some days she remained very ill.
She was made as comfortable as cir
cumstances wou u allow in the little
cabin Captain de Fleury resigned to her;
and he and Pierre vied with each other in
rendering to her and her father such little
services as were in their power. The
fever at last abated, but it was not until
the staunch little “Hirondelle” had
skimmed safely past the ever-dangerous
shoresof Cape Hatteras that she was able
to be moved from the confined space of
the cabin to a mattress upon the deck,
wheie she could drink in the life-giving
sea breeze.
It had indeed the effects of an elixir
upon her; ?er dark-blue eyes, dulled by
sickness, grew brighter from the moment
they first looked again upon the dark blue
sea, and she seemed to gather fresh vigor
with every breath of the sweet salt air
she inhaled.
“It does rejoice me to see that Made
moiselle recover herself,” said Captain
de Fleury, as he assisted Dr. Wentworth
in placing her oml'ortably under the shel
ter of the sail, thinking as he did so that
the dark e e- which glanced up at him so
gratefully were the sweetest eyes he had
ever seen,
“Thank you; I do feel much better al
ready,” and the eyes lost none of their
sweetness as they smiled in answer.
“Y'ou will soon' be your st;ong, bright
self again in this glorious air and restful
calm, shall you not, my Desi.-e?” said her
father, folding fier niahtle more closely
around her, for the air was fceen, with a
look of anxious fondness as he did so.
“All is well with you now?”
“All is well." she repeated, brightly,
yet thoughtfully. “Now that I am able
to recognize fully my present surround
ings, and realize that we are aS free as
the air about ns—safe beyond all further
dread of the horrors we have escaped,
thanks to vou, sir, under God,” enchant
ing Captain de Fleury with another grate
ful look from t'leeyes he thought so sweet,
“I feel that Jcpowledge alone would be
sufficient to restore ipe, But J owe much
also to this invigorating air and tlje per
fect revt I enjoy. Mere existence is a de
light to me with this wind fanning my
cheek, while my eyes are filled with the
beauty of sea and sky.”
“Mademoiselle loves the ocean ?"
“I have always loved to look upon it
whether tossing grey and white in the
storm-wind, or resting in its azure calm
as it is now. but 1 have never before been
upon it save in a small boat for an hour
or two at a•. me: never out of sight of
land. This limitless expanse of water
meeting the sky. without brea|k in tfie im
mense and perfect round, has for me a
fascination beyond words. It would lie a
vain effort to seek expression for the sense
of tfie infinite with which it tills me,” she
added in liie Iq'.’ voice of suppressed
emotion, her eyes fixed ip a far-reac|iing
gaze upon the horizon.
••I understood the feeling. Mademois
elle," responded Captain de Fleury. “It
is said that familiarity lessens one’s sense
of the sublime in nature. But for me.
though 1 have crossed this great ocean
coming from my native France, and have
taken many yoj ages upon it. so that I
am familiar with all its aepej.ttf, in storm
aud rest, the infinite grandeur aud beauty
of the se# is e?er new,”
"That js a tioef's rather tliau a sailor's
view of the *briny deep,' is if not?” said
Dr. Wentworth, smiling, "And as for
my Desire’s enthusiasm, if she had suf
fered from seasickness, her admiration of
life upon the rolling waves would l>e
somewhat qualified, In such ease, the
sight of a break of green shore in this
round of blue would have appeared a
much desired improvement. Eb. my De
sire?"
••My father is wise, and doubtless the
terrible malady would have wrought
some change in njy sentiments for the
time i. lasted," confessed Desire, with a
laugh in her eyes. "But, nevertheless. I
muiujain that my admiration would have
been only in afe'yapce; my love would
remain unaltered: it is inlwrn. and not
to be moved by a passing discomfort.”
•Ab. Mademoiselle has the true Sailor’
spirit. 1 have faith she wojild not shrink
from the sea, even in its anger—as she
has not seen it yet—when it is indeed
*wtul in its grandeur.”
"f confess to taking what you sailors
call a laud-lubber's Slew of tfee tjekle_gle
ment." said Dr, Wentworth; “auij iqj
finitely prefer a safe nook on shore ‘from
which to enjoy its angry outbreaks rather
than to be in the midst of its wrath a help
less victim. The admission is ignoble, but
£ruth compels me to say that danger in
any guise has no charms for mv ease-lov
jbhg soul.”
■fie. my father: 1 suspected vou not of
tfo unvmurtauwe u said pvsire,
playfully. “Methinks I would be too
much overpowered by the sense of sub
limity to remember fear, as Captain de
Fleury has well said.”
“Nevertheless, it rejoices me that fair
weather and favorable winds have blessed
our voyage thu- tar. That, if only for
.Mademoiselle's fair <ake. my little "Hir
ondelle’' has no. had to encounter a storm
i such as my sisters and grandmere were ex
-1 posed to when coming from our beloved
France. Ah! Mademoiselle, that was a
l storm from which even a sailor might
shrink iu fear, when he had to have it in
a mere cockleshell of a boat, especiallv—”
he paused, looking thoughtfully eastward
over the wide sea. as m .mory traced the
storm-swept track nis exiled family had
traversed. ' i
“If the recollection is not too painful to
you, Captain de Fleury,” said Dr. Went
worth. as the former remained thought
fully silent, "we would take much inter
est in hearing something of your storv,
for lam sure you have one to tell. lam
not mistaken in supposing that vours is
one of the Huguenot families that fled
from religious persecution in your native
country?”
;TO BE CONTINUED.
FEAIIFUL COMBAT.
A Human Brute Encounters a Score of
Rodents.
Philadelphia Special Xeic York Mercury.
An exhibition showing how low hu
manity can sink at times, and ending in
what seemed almost like a retributive ac- '
cident, came off in this city, early on Fri- •
day morning. “Danny” 'Hester, whose
time is spent principally in resorts for so
called sporting characters, was induced
on Sunday night last to make an agree- 1
nient that he would pit himself to kill i
two hundred rats in a rat pit, without
any other weapons than those provided
by nature, and that in the space of forty
minutes. Hester is a hard drinker, anil
it only requires a glass or two of whiskv, I
together with the promise of a ten-dollar i
bill in case of success, to make him ready *
for the adventure. The time set was last
Monday, but owing to the difficulty ex
perienced in securing so many live rats I
at one time, it was necessary to have a I
postponement. There is onl'v one proses- I
sional rat catcher in Philadelphia—old
Jack Gregory—who makes a living by
clearing stables of the j>est with muzzled
ferrets, and then selling them for regular
rat-baits, and he was called upon to fur
nish as many as possible. Half a dozen t
small l>oys were pressed into service and
furnished with catch-’em alive traps, to
be used wherever there was a prospect of
securing the long-tailed game. The vete
ran rat catcher turned up on Wednesday
night with a capture of one hundred and
forty, and the six boys produced twentv
seven of the rodents as the result of the’ir
two days’ work. It was decided to go
ahead with this number, and Wednesday
afternoon was spent in securing a loca
tion which should be safe from the prying
eyes of the police. An unoccupied storage
warehouse, on South Front street, over
which one of the men interested in the
match acts as a watchman, as well us
other buildings in the vicinity, was hit
upon as the best place procurable. The
watchman, who carried the keys of the
building, very willingly consented to ad
mit a “select” party. After one o’clock
Friday morning wa's selected as the time
least likely to attract attention, although
the neighborhood is comparatively desert
ed long before midnight. The rats were
kept in a groggery near by from Wednes
day night without food or water until
they were used, and when taken to the
place of meeting an hour before the time
set for the display they vvere vicious with
hunger. A triangular pit had been im
provised in the northeast and darkest cor
ner of the warehouse over an old batch
way that had Ken nailed up for years.
The two walls t vrined the two sides of the
pit, and two brot I boards, stretched
across from the uor»i ty. the east wall,
the other side. True tv their promise,
the party arrived at the ro tuezvous in a
perfectly sober condition, i-ester was
about the only one who showed signs of
liquor. He had been “braced u;>” sev
eral times on the way at his own requ *>t,
and was inclined to be noisy and frolic
some. A watch was kept from the friend
ly goggeiw to see when the valiant police
man started off on his beat, and then the
party filled silently into the dark build
ing. No time was lost in preliminaries.
Hester stripped himself and slipped ou a
pair of ordinary swimming tights. This
was in accordance with a preconcerted
agreement that the rat-fighter should have
no more protection than his four-footed
opponents. Twenty tallow caudles, stuck
in porter bottles, afforded the only light
tor the spectators. Hester climbed into
the pit shortly before two o’clock and said
that he proposed to kill the rats in the
time specified, but that he would refuse
to have the whole lot put down before him
at once. This occasioned some dispute,
and it was finally agreed that fifty of the
rodents should be killed first.
The rats were contained in a strong
gunny bag, and in endeavoring to get the
exact number out a dozen or more es
caped. Hester waited in one corner of
the pit, on his hands and knees, until the
rats were in and huddled up in a heap.
Then, after asking the exact time, he
thrust his naked arm into the heap and
seized two rats at once. A squeeze, a
squeak, and the animals ceased to breathe.
Two more were deftly grabbed and treat
ed in the same manner. This action, al
though very rapid, had the effect of stir
ring the rats into activity. They se
parated and went scampering about the
pit, vainly seeking to escape, and Hester
was obliged to bestir himself. It was ful
ly two minutes before he managed to
seize the next rat. and one of the lookers
on yelled out: “Kill the beast with your
teeth!” In an instant the man had the
squirming rodent in his mouth and sunk
his teeth through the back bone. Another
and another met death in the same way.
Then the sagacious little brutes appeared
to realize by instinct that an unusual
enemy was among them. They squeaked
shrilly, and instead of bunching together
spread all over the pit. Half a dozen
leaped on Danny’s back. He tried to
shake them off, aud one big fellow fasten
ed his teeth in the fleshy part of the man’s
shoulder. This seemed to be the signal
for a general combined attack.
The rats swarmed over the man’s naked
back and crawled up his legs and arms.
They ran over the back of his head and
leaped down in front of his face. They
fastened their sharp teeth in his body and
thighs, and one of them even made fast
to his left ear. Instead of attempting to
kill any more of the desperate little crea
ture, Hester became frightened at the per
sistency of the attack and did nothing
but claw at the rats swarming all over his
body, He began to dance about the pit,
partly from fear gndpartly from pain. To
add to his discomfiture a npschieyoqs
spectator suggested that the rest of tfie
rats be put in the pit. This was acted
upon at once, and the scene that ensued
was a remarkable one. The almost naked
man, bitten in a thousand places, and
the blood dripping from Ip's neck and
shoulders, leaped high into t|je air as ho
saw the bag emptied of its animated con
tents. He came down with some force,
and the old hatch door beneath him srave
way. He fell to the cellar below, sustain
ing a fractured rib and a broken wrist.
The rats, of course, all escaped. Fright
ened into comparative quiet by the unex
pected termination of the sport, the spec,
tutors rushed below and conveyed tfieir
injured companion out of the building and
to a drug store. His injuries were of suefi
a nature, however, as to compel his re
moval to tfie Pennsylvania Hospital,
where be still lies groaning with pain.
A Veteran Soldier.
Mr. G. F. Bowles, of No. 24 Common
street. Lynn, Mass., says:
“While in the army,' at the battle of
Spottsylyafija. I fell while getting over a
rail fence and was badly injured and left
for dead, but after a time I was picked UP
by comrades; and upon examination it
was found that my back was badly hurt
and my kidneys seriously injured, and I
have suffered the most excruciating pain
since, and could obtain no rtdiei
although treated by several physicians,
and I had given up all 'hope of
getting help when I was recommended
to use Hunt's Remedy. I purchased sev
eral bottles at cue of Opr' drug stores in
Lynn, and began to use it as directed, ami
can now attend to business and am free
from the pains I formerly had; and I wish
to say to my friends and comrades that
Hunt's Remedy will do all that is claimed
for it. and Worthy ot all praise. You can
use my testimony when you have Occa
sion to. as J heartily recfinpnfmd it
to all that have kidney or liver troubles.
April 2«, 'ISB3.
‘.‘Vou May Use My Name.”
I fiesjje so inform you what your valua :
ble niedimne htu> elude for ifie, j WM *lf
duced to try it by a member of our family
••who had been benefited by its use.” I
have suffered terribly from kidney diffi
culties. At times I have been very bad,
having severe pains in my back, with gen
eral loss of strength and vitality.
My urine was very bad, with a heavv
sediment of brick dust, which was fast
leading to gravel. I commenced using
Hunt's Remedy, with a marked improve
ment from the start: the pains left, the
urine became more natural, and I can
truly say one bottle effeetai a pfernffinetll
cure.
! !;ave recommended it to many persons,
both here and in Rost' n, all of whom
speak of it with the highest priise.
You are at liberty to use this letter or
my name in any manner you may think
best, that other sufferers mav learn the
value of the greatest of all remedies.
Most truly yours. John J'. Cox,
f>2 l Fieasanf' St.
-Ifuldeii, April £i', 1883.
The New Y ork Times sqys ever?' trade
dollar has yielded a fraudulent profit tb
some swindler. This probably explains
why the Republican United States Senate
has carelully kept it in circulation after
’fie House has passed a bill withdrawing
Aoriniltuval Drpavtnirnt.
THE FIELD, FA KM"aM»~GAK'I>EN\
We solicit articles for this department.
The name of the writer should accompany
the letter or article, not necessarily
for publication, but as evidence of good
faith.
Fating at Night.
The next most important thing to life is
health, and this is impossible without
proper food properly taken. Intelligent
men and women having proper regard for
‘ the duties and excellencies of life will
consider health as of the first importance.
In doing so they find that very much de
pends upon the quality, quantity and
times of taking food. At night it is he
retical to more than sip a cup of tea and
munch a cracker, according to the old re
cognized laws of health, but it is gratify
j ing to note that with the explosion of
I many other old theories this, too. has at
j last gone by the board, and people are now
1 permitted to eat according to the necessi
ties of the body under the supervision of
j intelligent mind. Animals, it has
! has at last been observed instinct-
I tively sleep after eating; and
i the animal or man becomes drowsy after
a full meal because the blood is solicited
toward the stomach to supply the juices
needed in digestion, which office per-
I formed, it returns toward the brain, and
the anmial or man is again wide awake
and ready for activity. This seems to in
dicate that invalids should eat at bed
time as well as at other times, whenever
. the stomach seems to need it, which every
' sane person can generally tell. In hos
i pitals the convalescent, we know by ex
perience in the “late unpleasantness,”
often suffer for the want of food during
the long period of the night between sup
, per and breakfast.
Truck Farm Produce at Savannah.
The rapid increase of the truck farm
industry renders every item connected
with it important. Glancing over the tiles
of the Morning News for the month of
May just closed, we find, under the head of
receipts and exports, that Savannah re
ceived during that month, over her lines
of railway, river and coast-li.ie steam
boats, 38,820 crates and 3.483 barrels of
truck farm produce, and exported per
Steamships alone, during the same time,
107,372 crates and ,10,048 barrels, beside
numerous boxes of fruits, refrigerators
of strawberries, and other packages not
reported as crates or barrels. The figures
show in exports over receipts, 68,552
crates and 6,565 barrels, which we ex
plain as produced in the neighborhood of
the city, or transported through the
express company and not reported
in the railroad receipts. A report of the
local and express receipts, which we have
not yet obtained, will show a large in
crease of the figures on both sidfcs, as it is
believed that about two-thirds of all this
produce is forwarded through that com
pany. Tfie great stream of the truck farm
produce seeking the port of Savannah, is
found to flow over the Savannah, Florida
and YVestern Railway, only 122 crates and
520 barrels of the 38,820 reported having
been received by all other railroads and
steamboats.
Jersey Cattle and the Truck Farm.
Some people are lucky enough to get
credit for infinitely more than they per
form, while others are never credited with
the half of their good works. For illus
tration, a North Georgia correspondent
of a North Georgia paper recently dipped
his pen to glorify a certain popular writer,
as it to shine from his reflected light, and
in doing so, enthusiastically exclaimed:
“And this truck farming has sprung into
sudden life by a wave of his magic pen.”
This is about as correct as the preceding
statement that Jersey cattle were few in
Georgia until his “magic description of
their worth brought thousands into the
State.” We have not yet heard ot thou
sands coming into the State except
through this correspondent, though Jer
sey cattle were pretty well known
in nearly every section of Georgia ever
since we can remember. As for truck
farming, that industry, according to our
observation, had about seven years the
start of this “magic” writer, and not un
til it impressed itself upon the State too
powerfully to escape notice, do we re
member that it attracted such distin
guished attention. The men who really
made Jersey cattle and the truck farming
popular in Georgia were those who made
the practical trial of them, and proved
their worth by actual experiment. These
put something at hazard for the benefit of
themselves and the State, and the press
but does them an act of simple justice in
the announcement of their success.
Yankee Beans.
We are glad to see that some of our
country exchanges among the truck farms
are waking up to the adaptability of
Northern white beans to our Southern soil
and climate. We wrote them’up several
years ago, and it may be from that source
the experiments begun which now appear
to have been so successful. The Quitman
Free Press finds Mrs. Avera cultivating
them successfully, and very properly
adds; “They are not used as ‘snaps,’ but
green or dry are very palatable and nutri.
tious, while their strongest point is in the
fact that they can be kept in this cli.
mate two years, which cannot be
said of other beans. Another
point of great Importance is
that they never sell iu the South for less
than $3 per bushel, while they can be
raised for 50 cents per bushel.” The
thrifty agricultural editor of the Press
proves his faitfi by his works. He has
now an acre in Yankee beans, from which
he recently gathered fifty crates of wax
heaps, and proposes nqw so gather two
crops of beans froin this acre and then
sow it down in two crop field peas, which
he also expects to gather before frost,
and, we suppose, rot the vines on the
ground to improve Ips soil,
A Good YVork.
Mrs. E. C. Long, of Tallahassee, Fla.,
is in fl’hiladelphia with the Women's
Sjlk Culture Association, preparing her-
Splt with thorough knowledge of silk
culture, and the art of reeling it, for tfie
purpose of introducing the industry into
her State, on her return to Tallahassee,
where, the Floridian says, she has six
acres planted in mulberry trees as a pre
liminary step. W’e need more women or
this kind—sterling women, who think
more of the glory of their country and
the needs of their struggling sex than of
the fashions and light-headed fol
lies of modern society. Another
one of these poble yyorqen is a gtfepessful
bee-keeper, at Hawkinsville, Georgia, and
we hear of one in the poultry business.
No doubt there are many others the fu
ture will write down in fhp Ijst of
those successful agricultural heroines
all about over the South, as the women
who made their mark upon the age, not
as fleeting beauties of fashionable society,
put as the standards of industrial excel
lence oi which en+pues are constructed
and cemented. It is of such women that
those statesmen are born who raise their
country to the grandeur and
faipe.
iyi Gporaij
Commissioner Henderson has com
pleted his consolidation of the crop re
ports for the State to the 18th of June.
Ips estimates are about the sanje as indi-
by re’pqrt§ hetefofQfe in the
Murxing News. The condition of corn,
compared to same time last year, is tri per
cent. Heavy rains in the early spring and
an unprecedented cool and dry May, has
greatly retarded the growth and
encouraged the attack of cut-worms.
The yield of oats will be
about 88 per cent. ot an av
age. This falling off is due almost entire
ly to the fact that spring sown oats have
b'ePn caught by* the May drought 1 . There
being no rust of consequence the yield of
wheat will be !}3 per cent, of the average.
The quality is excellent, beingalmost free
trom rust. The stand of cotton is 114 per
cent, of an average, and the condition is
94. The plant is backward and srpalley
than usqal. XLe general pi ospect. while
not very encouraging, is by no means
gloomy.
HOifSFqi£H: g 4CJD frifOTHAiL
th Srasickness.
8. 8. Parker, Wellington, 0., says:
“While crossing Lake Erie, I gave it to
some passengers who were seasick, and
it gave immediate relief.”
The Family Cow.
To the villager who has teen in the past
accustomed to the free use of pure, rich
country milk, unadulterated at the pump
or by the use of poor slushy feed ami doc
tored drink: uncontaniinated by the vitiat
ed air and effluvia of filthy, unventilated
stables ami contact with unwashed
milkers and half-washed nails and cans,
and unimpregnated by unwholesome ami
poisonous germs which float in clouds
around the milkman’s cart and into his
cans as be goes tumbling along the dusty
streets a.td into lanes, courts and yards
where every art known to man contri
butes its quota: the family cow in her
tidy stall, and fed on plenty of healthful
and nutritious food, may well be account
ed a prime necessity ami her products
among the richest luxuries in which his
famf’y can indulge. But it has generallv
been supposed by most men that good
milk can only be produced in country
pastures o • trom green soiling food, and
numberless people who would not grudge
the trouble or expense of keeping "family
cows, if they only knew how. still endure
the evils and tor Mires of buying w hat they
use of milk, cream and butter as anil
where they can. But there is manifestly
a healthful progress in this direction, and
a brighter day dawning for them. The
family cow is becoming an institution in
many villages and suburban towns which
only a few years ago depended wholly upon
the milkman's cart for their supply. and
the ai. of keeping a cow is being closelv
studied.
The following article on the subject has
been furnished to the ./ourmti by special
request, and comes from a veteran in the
field, one who has been long accustomed
to observe closely and act independently.
With the widest opportunity to investi
gate the subject and a most earnest in
terest in it, his views, extreme though
many of them may appear, are entitled to
the most critical consideration before
they are lightly passed over. It is to lie
ho|>ed that the discussion of the subject
will result in much good, for there is a
most abundant opportunity for improve
ment in that line.
A VILLAGeR’S EXPERIENCE WITH COWS.
Editor Breeders’ Journal: 1 have often
wondered why so few villagers keep
cows. 1 have quite as often wondered
why so many who do so should be to so
much expense and trouble to send tlmin
away a mile or two every day to pasture,
and then content themselves with such
very poor returns. But more than all else
I have wondered why or how I a.i not of
one or the other of those classes. 1 have
sometimes thought it was because I was
brought up on a farm and had made the
character and disposition of cows a sort of
study all through my boyhood. I more
than think, however, that it was because
my wife and 1 had both acquired a taste
for the luxuries that only those who raise
their own milk and get it fresh from the
cow can ever have, and were willing to
put ourselves to the necessary inconveni
ence to get it. If I have from time to time
climbed out of some of the old ruts, it was
because I found them leading in the
wrong direction rather than that I might
figure in the role of reformer. I do hot
claim any credit for any discoveries that
I may have made in the management of
my cows, and I only appear before the
public to tell the plain story of my ex
perience because 1 am urged to do so.
When I became a villager I had no am
bition to mark out any special career for
myself in this matter. I simply expected
to do as others did and go on in the
beaten way. 1 began by ordering a
regular milk supply from the milkman
who was recommended as furnishing the
best milk which came to town. It proved
trom the start to be poor in quality and
offensive in flavor. L was so unsatisfac
tory all around that in a very short time
we concluded to get along with only half
the quantity originally ordered. We tried
hard to get used to it, but finally gave it
up. Even the baby stuck up his hose and
would not drink a drop of it. He said he
wanted cow’s milk. We tried another
and another milkman with no better re
sults, till finally I brought home a cow and
put her in a stall beside the horse. The
baby is a grown man now, but he has
always been able since that event to get
cow’s milk at home with scarcely a week’s
intermission.
PASTURAGE.
At first I supposed it necessary for the
cow to go io pasture during the summer,
and to have some place to stand in the
open air a part of every day in winter. I
hunted up a pasture for her and a boy to
drive her out and back morning and even
ing. Between the travel, which amounted
in the aggregate to four or five miles a
day, the short feed, the poor water, the
flies, and the abuse of the drivers—for
there were often half a dozen of them
together—the summer supply of milk was
always small and the quality poor. 1
tried that plan two or three seasons, and
came to the conclusion that I had borne
that long enough, so the cow went into the
stable to stay. I was not yet weaned of
my green feed fallacy, and I was at my
wit’s end to know what to do with her,
though 1 was fully determined not to give
the thing up.
SOILING,
“1 got “Quincy on Soiling” and every
thing else that 1 thought would help me
out. 1 finally decided to try it, and in
order to do so got a larger place, one on
which there was some flue grans, a good
family garden and a nice plot of tillage
land. Then I thought J was made for
sure. But it is not worth while to enter
upon a detailed account of my experience
in this field. I read up the subject en
thusiastically, studied all that was writ
ten about it, and went through the mill
thoroughly. There is no “soiling crop”
with any kind of creditable showing be
hind it that I have not tried on a larger or
smaller scale. Now I wish to be distinctly
understood in regard to this part of my
experience. Ido not condemn soiling, It
has its advantages, It affords a thorough
discipline of mind and muscle for the
soiler, because he must be always on the
alert for something more and something
new tor his stock. From the time the
frost leaves the ground in the spring till it
returns in the fall the soiling business re
quires that everything be done upon the
high pressure principle. The land and
the manure are better utilized, that is,
they are turned oftener in the production
of green crops than in those that grow
through the season and to maturity, That
is the only advantage that I have ever
discovered. I never derived any advau
tage from it over the feeding of crude
crops so far as the cow was concerned.
My experience is that a eow may be taken
from a pasture, a stable or a drove at any
time, and put into a stall and kept there
as long as she will give milk and until fat,
upon cured todder and a suitable grain
ration,to just as good advantage every way.
and more economically, generally', than
aqy upon green crop, she unproven anil
improvable claims set up by the advocates
ot the several systems of green fodtjerin <r
or soiling are various. I do not care to
discuss any of them oqtsideof my own ex
perience, | |mye sometimes thought I
got a little additional iqilk bv soiling, but
1 was never able to substantiate the be
liet. Ido not believe I ever got any more
butter. It was certainly a great deal
more trouble to provide the food, and also
to take care of the cows.
Having thus, as I have already said,
been through the mill, I have lang since
ceased to make any special provision for
grpen food for my cows. 1 always give
them the clippings of my lawn and anv
other green stuff that is convenient and
economical, but I do not put myself out at
all to do so If ( could flof get anything
else hut haled hay and straw for fishier
for a cow. I should keep one all the same
rather than depend upon the purchase of
milk by the quart. I do not say it would
be profitable for everybody to do so. It is
for me.
CURED FODDER, FEED, L'(C,
There is a great deal of moonshine, in
my estimation, in what we read and hear
so persistently urged about the superiority
of "dry grass’’ and “early-cut hav.” The
difference between such hay and Veil ma
tilted i|m| properlj cured hay is very
slight in my experience, not half what is
generally supposed. I raise some grass
and cut it when it is full grown. When
that is gone I generally buy the hav that
others reject. I prefer a mixed hay, anti
can generally tey H at abbut half the
pfiee of choice market hav. Well-cured
corn fodder is relished by cows and is
good for milk. It is one of the most eco
nomical fodders to buy. It should lx
chopped to prevent waste. I never have
used a cutter tor it, but have fehotipetf
hundreds of widl a sharp hatchet
«o short that it was eaten well enough.
Whatever odds and ends there are. pass
into the litter; but I never have enough
for that, so there is no waste there. ‘
cow that stands on a floor continually
should tie liberally littert-d.
' The feed of a’cow should lie varied ac
cording to circumstances, ify atamtar-d
feed i» a mixture of cottonseed meal, corn
meal and wheat bran, in the proportions
of one, two and tour by measure. Two
quarts morning and night is a standard
ration, but I often feed less than more.
The best eow I ever kept, a pure Ayrshire,
w hich made 10jiounds of butter'the 53d
week from calving and was a mass ot fat
20 weeks later, never ate it far a single
day I foddered iter quite a quantity of the
straw and chaff of herds-grass which had
been thrashed for seed. I also kept her
some time on orchard grass
had full groy r, w eed in it. Both these,
aeeyrtlmg 16 the theories. ard poor fod
ders and require more feed, but she did
hot get it. I have had cows that requuhd
more feed to make less milk
COWS.
I base had a variety of cows. I have
never given much attention to the quo.
tion of breed. My best cqh as I have
jaid wa» an Ayrshire. poorest was
4 Wdli bred high grade .Jersey/ The Jer
sey made more butter than any of the
others except the Ayrshire, but her milk
after it was skimmed was not good for
anything. The family cow is not usually
kept for butter. We always set aside a
portion of the milk for use whole, and the
| balance, if any, is set tor butter making.
The skinitnml milk of the Ayrshire and
i several of the natives and grades that we
, hale kept was bettor for table use and
. many other purposes than the common
. milk of the milkman's eart. That of the
I Jersey was sky blue, and little better than
1 the milk and water that one often gets at
hotels. On the other hand, in our experi-
I ence at least, the cream of the Jersey is
i not nearly as well adapted to the use of
■ families as that of either of the others.
I THE STABLE AND STABLE PRACTICE.
I keep my cow in a plain short stall,
with a trench so close tehind her that the
droppings fall into it. There is a smooth
stud at her left shoulder, with an iron
ring around it that moves easily up and
down it. To this she is fastened’ with a
plain strap around her neck. A light tex
ateut two and a half feet long and half
| as wide, and a water pail, complete the :
I equipment. There is no manger or rack. '
’ The box is for her feed, and is so large as I
! to permit it to be spread very thin oh the !
bottom to eoinjiel her to eat but little at a
mouthful. It Is removed when she is fod
dered. The stable should be warm, no
matter how warm, with suitable ventila
tion. Warmth saves feed and makes
milk. I read an interesting letter in the
onrol liorid last week from the Professor
of Agriculture at the Missouri Uni
versity on that subject. He experimented
with cows in ceiled and in open stalls,
j weighing them, their feed and their milk.
He both saved feed and increased the
i milk every time the cows were trans
j ferred to the warmer quarters. It would
I pay to blanket a eow in w inter to keep
i her warm, and in summer to keep off dies.
' My exjierienee in this direction is not
| large, but enough, nevertheless, to war
rant that statement. I would never card
I a eow. I use a large soft mitten or a soft
i brush to smooth down the cow’s hairs,
but never a comb or card to scratch it up.
1 know it sometimes gratifies her to have
it done, but it is of no benefit to her and
costs additional feed. That has also lieen
proven by the Missouri professor.
EXERCISE FOR COWS.
Exercise is another thing that may be
economically denied to cows without
any detriment to them. I am as well
satisfied as 1 ever was of anything that I
cannot prove that my Ayrshire would
have required twice as much feed if slie
had been given all the exercise she would
have taken. 1 doubt, indeed, it she could
have been kept in full flow of milk at liber
ty on twice the feet! she had in the stable.
She was allowed an occasional turn in the
yard at the halter's end, or turned into a
small shed. I never had a cow' injured in
the least by confinement. But while I
have not exhausted the subject, I have a
good deal outrun my allotted space and
must close.— Boscoic, in the Breeders'
Journal.
To Raise liarge Cauliflowers.
The difficulty of raising even a fair crop
of cauliflowers is well known to all who
have had much experience in gardening.
Even the successful horticulturist, who
has written a work to show that there is
“money in the garden,” acknowledges his
many failures in cauliflower, and in con
versation with excellent cultivators, I
find that there is the same lack of success,
while the cause of failure is beyond their
comprehension. They say: “They will
sometimes all grow to stems and leaves,
with numerous small cauliflower ‘buttons'
on the long, slender stems, while not one
in a hundred, and, sometimes, not one in
five hundred, will develop into a head of
respectable size,” and they all say; “We
cannot understand it." Os course, there
must be a reason tor such failures.
“Whatsoever a man sows that shall he
reap,’’ applies to raising cauliflowers as
well as to other matters. The many and
very’ general failures are due to worthless
seed; the whole secret of success, provided
the soil is sufficiently fertile, is in the use
of good seed. As a general thing, the
cauliflower seed offered for sale is raised
trom the stumps. The heads being,valu
able, are sold, and the stems, with the
roots attached, are planted out to produce
a crop of seeds. Good heads of cauli
flowers can only be grown from seed
which was raised from large and perfect
heads. As those who grow the seeds for
market can often get more for the heads
than they could from the seed that might
be produced from them, the temptation to
raise seed from the stumps is very great.
Those who understand how to produce
large soli 1 heads of cauliflower will never
sow stunii>-grown seeds, but raise their
own seeds. In autumn, the largest, most
perfect heads are to be selected and pre
served through the winter in the same
manner that cabbages are kept. The
next spring these are set out entire, in
rich, mellow soil, for producing seed. If
the heads are very compact they are to be
gashed with a knife, nearly to the stump,
to facilitate the starting of the central
flower stalks, Probably numerous flower
stalks will be produced, and all but the
nearest centre are to be broken off, as
four stems are as many as can bring their
seed to perfection. If all that start are
allowed to grow, the result will be a large
number of pods of inferior seods. Alter
the blossoms have fallen, and the pods
begin to grow, take a pair of scissors, and
cut away all the small and imperfect
ones, thus directing all the energies of the
plant to the development of a compara
tively small number of pods and seeds.
The seed thus produced will be large and
plump, one of which will outweigh three
or more of the stump-grown seeds. In.
deed, the seeds thus grown will be so
large, plump, shining, and heavy, that
only the few who are familiar with the
seeds commonly sold would recognize
them as cauliflower seeds. When the
pods begin to turn straw-color, cut the
stems close to the stump, and hang them
in an airy room, where birds cannot reach
them. When the pods are thoroughly
dry, lay them on a cloth and treafl oqt
the seeds, which are to be vyinnowod to
separate them from the chart, and placed
in a paper bag. Keep in a drv and cool
room. By sowing seeds of this kind, a
crop of choice cauliflower can be raised
with as much certainty as one of cabbages
or potatoes, and be far moro remunera
tive.—America# Ar/riculturist.
About Sheep.
From prize flocks reported to Borne
and Farm we exfrac.t the following:
On the first day of February I put my
ewes on a meadow of fourteen acres, that
had not been grazed since it was mowed,
with access to the haystacks for shelter,
and no other connected, feeding them one
gallon of corn per day till the Ist of
March, then two gallons per day’ to the
15th of April, then turned them on fresh
pasture.
I tar my sheep’s noses three qr four
times during the months, id May, June 1
and July, as a preventive of the gad fly,
wljch. if allowed to do so, will lay its
eggs in the sheep’s nostril, and tliej-o n ■
forms a worm that goes to the brain and <
kills the sheep, unless attended to. To
cure this disease | take a small handful
of leal tobacco, boil in half a pint of water '
until | get all of the strength out of the
tobacco, and pour about one tablespoon
ful in each nostril. This rarely fails to ,
effect a cure.
►My mode of caring for Jambsis as fol
lows: I pasture my sheep during Iqinbiug
time, and bring them no es Right and shel
ter them in bad weather. In good weather
they are also allowed the use of a lot ip 1
the rear of their house. 1 separate. tip.
ewes with young lambs from the Hock
until they are a week <ff ten days old,
when they are turned, back with the flock.
I feed night and morning, principally 1
upon cotton seed, In bad weather I add
cOrn or peas to their feed.
My flock originated in a gift of five
Merino sheep about forty tears ago, an<|
to-day are regarded as one’of tne Ijesu ito
well as one of the healthiest in the com
munity. I have sought tiffcross with the
grime of bucks to be had. lam now satis- i
lied from my experience that the thorough
bred Southdown on the Leicester are tie
best crosses I have made.
I have two hundred acres m pasture, •
divided into fluec lots, and change from !
fine to another as often as once a month.
I And the oftener the better. My grass is
a combination ot bluegrass, clover, and
herdsgrass. lam running also fifty
of cattle and twenty of rjmlea and horses.
In alternating, J keop my sheep behind 1
tl;e other k toe k.
Ai-istocratic L«ancl Owners. ,
It is astonishing what large iq '
the United States are ovviiud Uy titled (
Englishmen. Qf ipdiS idual owners there
Ate Sir George ileed, 2,<kmi,ooo acres: i
Earl or Dunmore, UK),000 acres: Earl of
Dunraven, 60,000 acres: Duke ofSuther- 1
land, 400,000 acres; the next largestfaims
are owned by I’hillit.s, Marshal A Co., !
1,300,000acj-es,heirs ofCol Murphy. 4,100,- :
acres; H. Diston. 12.000, Opb acres: 1
Standard Oil company. I,IJOO.O<D UCFfcd; '
and scores of others. Xipe men own a
territory equal to that of New Hampshire,
Mas.aehusetts and Rhode Island coinbin- J
ed. Then there are the great railroad cor
porations, whose free gifts of land from '
profligate Congresses amount to upwards ,
of 200,000,000 acres. Eleven of these cq,.
porations have l>een given VJi,<jijO,<ioo
acres. The Northern l*a’ciflc road has i
received |he biggest slice, 47,W),000, and 1
the grants have ranged all the way from '
1,000,000 acres and upwards.
P«.uut Everywhere.
If any invalid or sick person has. 1
least doubt of the power ..ml efficacy of
Hop Bitten; yi ypre them, they can flml
exactly like their own, in *^ e j r own
ndfehborhiXMl, Willi ;; roof positive that
they can t»e easily and permanently cured
at a trifling eost —or ask your druggist or
physician,
Greenwich, Feb, 11, IWO.
ti",, Bitters Co.— . Sirs: I was given up
by the doctors to'die of scrofula consump
tion. Twa bottles of your Bitters cured
me. Leroy Brewer.
Another loving heart has teen broken.
A Brooklyn girl who married in London
has just discovered that her young bus
band is not an Englishman as all—noth
ing but a New yorfc dude s
\ ignroux Growing Pears.
An El Paso correspondent of Home and
Farm writes as follows about pears in
that region:
This valley must surely be the home of
the pear, for 1 have never seen such v igor
ous growth in any other place. I have on
my place a nutnter of trees, and have just
l»een out and measured one so as to give
you its actual measurement. It is six
feet ten inches in circumference, thirty
six feet spread of limbs, and about fort’v
tive or fifty feet high.
This. I assure you. is nothing uncom
mon. there being hundreds such in our
town, and there is one nine miles below
here, in San Elisario, on the place of Mrs.
Ellis, that measures ten feet in circum
ference.
The Southern Farmer’s Monthly speaks
of the original Le Conte |>ear tree in
Liberty county. Georgia, as the greatest
bearing known, having borne thirty nine
bushels of pears. Now. my tree happens
to be forty years old, so says mv old Mexi
can neighbor, Jose Maria Telles, who
owned the place formerly, and although 1
1 don’t like to be accused of Ochiltreeism ,
in my first letter. I am quite sure 1 am in j
teund when 1 sav this pear tree had
tetween seventy-five and one hundred I
bushels of pears on it last year—one limb,
six inches in diameter, broke from sheer
weight ol fruit. They wereon the ground
so thick that although we gave away, fed
horses and dried them, they were a
nuisance, rotting and gathering flies. So
much for quantity, now for quality. They
are a mealy, insipid pear, and on’lv good
baked or for preserves, and we made a
barrel of splendid vinegar.
Mr. Charles Richardson, our Consul in
Paso del Norte, grafted Bartlett's into the
common pear, known here as the Chineha.
and probably allied to the hardy Chinese
>and Fears. These trees produce as large,
fine, luscious fruit as one could wish to
see. Mr. Charles Kirber, of this place,
also grafted Bartlett's on the native pear
as also apples on Mexican apple—and
raises as tine fruit as that grown in Cala.
1 speak ot native Mexican apple ami pear
trees, but 1 imagine they were introduced
by the San Franciscan monks when Coro
nada first came here. He found this an
Indian village, and we havean old church
said to lie some three hundred vears old,
and the identical cross the old priests
left. In this time the trees may have de
teriorated; certain it is. the apples are
tasteless and [tears insipid. We have
one October pear, a rough, brown-looking
fruit, very large, and hard as a cobble
stone, but I never tasted finer flavored
canned pears than my wife made from
them. There is also a very late apple
from the interior of Mexico said to be a
splendid kee|>er. Mr. Ellis has some still
on hand, and lam told tliev keep until
May.
i’he Diamond Dyes for family use
have no equals. All popular colors easily
dyed, fast and beautiful. 10 cents a pack
age for any color.
Remember This.
If you are sick Hop Bitters will surely
aid Nature in making you well when all
else fails.
If you are costive or dyspeptic, or are
suffering Irom any other ol the numerous
diseases of the stomach or liowels, it is
your own fault if you remain ill, for Hop
Bitters are a sovereign remedy in all such
complaints.
If you are wasting away with any form
of kidney disease, stop tempting death
this moment, and turn for a cure to Hop
Bitters.
If you are sick with that terrible sick
ness, nervousness, you will find a “Balm
in Gilead” in the use ot Hop Bitters.
If you are a frequenter, or a resident of
a miasmatic district, barricade your
system against the scourge of all countries
—malarial, epidemic, bilious, anil inter
mittent fevers—by the use of Hop Bitters.
If you have rough, pimply, or sallow
skin, bad breath, pains and aches, and
feel miserable generally, Hop Bitters will
give you fair skin, rich blood, and sweetest
breath, health and comfort.
In short, they cure all diseases of the
stomach, bowels, blood, liver, nerves,
kidneys, Bright's disease. S.MM) will be
paid tor a case they will not cure or help.
That poor, bedridden, invalid wife,
sister, mother, or daughter, can lie made
the picture of health by a few bottles ot
Hop Bitters, costing but a trifle. Will you
let them sutler?
ts oniniriTial.
SAVANNAH MARKET.
Savannah, June Hl, 1883, 1 p. m.
Cotton.—The market was easy, withsales
of 15 bales. We give the ollicial quotations
of the Savannah Cotton Exchange:
Good middlingiff -
Middling. <p*
Low middling ffj’
Good ordinary s:Q
Ordinary
Comparative Cotton Statement.
Rkceipts. Exports and Stock cw hand Ji ie lit, 1883, and
FOR THE SAME TIME LAST YEAR.
ISSt-Si. 1881 S».
Ssa I Sea
Inland. Ppiand. IsSind. Upland.
Stock on hand September 1. 661 5.331 378 11.588
Received to-day 145 745
Received previously 12,002 *-2.571 17,960 70*444
Total 12.068 i SW4M7 17.468 714,774
Exported to-day 4ti 1,328
Exjiorted previously 12,051 80*gW 17,191 i 707,440'i
Total 12.0.541 SOSJfIW 17,3881 708,788
Stock on hand and on ship- i
I sin rd this dav 14| 5,113*; | 195 t 6,006|
Rick.—The market in rice continues steady,
with fair inquiry and nq sales. Our quota
tions represent prices for round lots. In
filling small arders higher rates must lie paid.
We quote;
Broken »
Common ....
*> ir .
Jj oo * l s’Ja6
Ppme
..Choicenominal.
Rough—
Country Iqtc II lotoi is
l!«c water 1 -2txal 45
Naval Stoker.— Rosins opened and cloned
linn, with sales of 750 barrels. We quote: A,
B, C, l» amt E *135, F fl 4u, G fl 50, 11*100,
I ¥1 iO, K *2 OU, M *2 40, N *2 75, and window
glass .'i.’j. Spirits turpentine opened quiet
at 35',5c., al 1 o’clock was dull at j-., ami j
dosed at 35c, asked. Sales of 50 barrels
were, reported. We quote: Regulars 34c. bid,
35c. asked; oils and wlnskys 33c. bid, 34e.
o-ked.
NAVAL STORKS STATEMENT.
Sfi-rito. Rottin. I
On hand April 1.1883 2.105 44.971
Received to-dqy 543 1,719
Received previously 38,336 107,909
Total 40,984 154.059 .
Exported to-day ~~ ~~ ~ ~
Exported previously 32,598 105,97:1 ]
Tula! 32.598 105,973
Stock on hand and on shipboard
Uns day, by actual count .8,380 48,686
Receipts same day last year 300 1,256
MARKETS BY TELEGRAPH.
Noon Report.
FINANCIAL.
New York, June 16.—Stocks opened dull but '
strong. Exchange—long,f4 85‘y'd 8.7>; ; ghurl,
44 88V/04 89. State bonds neglected, Govern
ment Ijonds unchanged.
COTTON.
4-,tVihrOOL. Jure 16.—Cotton market opened i
very dull; mi<b |: .ig uplands 5 11-16 d; mid
dling Orleans 5 13-16<1; sales4,ooo bales; speou - i
lation and export 500 bales; receipts 6,630
bales—American 3,700 bales.
Futures: Uplamte, low middling clause, i
June and .Itjly delivery, 5 44-Md; July and i
.\ugip.l. 5 47-64 d; August and Septemlx-r,
5 si-64d; September ami October, 5 49-. Rd; No- I
vernber and December, 5 40-64 d. Futures
dull. i
1:30 p. m.—Sales of American bales <
Futures closed very dull
New York, June 16.—Cotton opened dull;
middling uplands 10 9-16 c, middling Orleans
W 13 pic; sales 263 bales. I
Futures: Market very dull, with sales as <
follows: June delivery, 10 54c; July, 10 i
August, 10 57c; Septeml>er. 10 31c; October, I
10 00c; November, 9 910, >
The cotUiu report says: "Future de
liveries at the first call displayed some degree
of firmness, hut a decline set' iu «mui after,
and continued witii verv .light thiotuations
until the close. The total sales are 44,000 bales,
and the qqotutians conqiared with those of
Itt»t nighl show a reduction of 3-100 c. The ,
market is described as dull.”
PROVISIONS. GROCERIES. ETC.
Liverpool, Jnne 16.—Ismg clear iniddip.
495; short, 525. Lard. 575.
New York. June 16.—Flour dull and de
clining. Wheat heavy; lower. Corn
heavv ; 1 m . lower. Fork weak; mess, *l9 %
Ojlt; ?5 Lard steady at 11 40c. Freight, an let.
Baltimore, June 16.—Flour tw-ohed quiet■
Howard street and Western sUt&r'
fine, J 3 25T0400; *4 2X05 00: faiaiiy,
*5 2X06 25; mills Superfine. fc , 2X04 «<6:
5o; p.io i vami4 *sula»s-,.,
<l:eat—Southern Western >^ e eular
ahd fairly a<ti‘m tiding wuier
red *1 18u; 14; amber n ;x*i - <,, , J}..™’
Spot’ *TI T»y'6j\ iw * "*“-sern winter red. on
6 W' <• Com-Southern dull
csternlower and dull; Southern,
-'“BO <• C ; yellow
naval stores.
New York. June 16. —Spirits tuiqientine
firm at Rosin steady at *1 62U/<6
Evening Report.
FINANCIAL.
New Orleans, June 16.—Exchange. New
York sight,*l 50 per*l,ooo premium; bankers’
sterling, *4 85J./04 86.
New V op.k, June 16.—The weekly statement
of the associated banks shows the following
changes: Jxians increased *611,500; specie
increased 718,900; legal tenders decreased
*397,260; deposits increased *2.3H9.3a>; circu
lation decreased *139.400: reserve decreased
*178,125. The hauks now hold *8,791,050 in
excess of ail legal requirements.
N#w York, June 16.—Exchange, *4 85*/ s .
J Government bonds unchanged; new five per
cent#, bid: four and a half per cents
112%; four i»er rents, UO’r; three per cents’
103%. Money |»er cent. State bonds
neglected.
Sub-Treasurv lialances—Coin. *113,945,000-
ciirrency, *7.902.000.
Speculation on the Stock Exchange to-dav
has lieen dull, without B|>ecial feature. The
market opened irregular but generally a frac
tion below yesterday’s closing figures. From
the opening till near 11 o’clock the market.
I though moderately active, was weak end a
decline, ranging from * 4 to 1 )>er cent, was
recorded, in which Lake Shore, the coal
shares and the Wabashes were the greatest
, sufferers. But during the next hour and a
. quarter, or up to noon, the market
was strong and the decline was entireiv
recovered. Michigan Central an>l the North
wests leading the improvement. During
most of the afternoon the market was very
dull and generally weak, and in the late trade,
assisted by a large failure in Chicago, prices
sold down ' 4 i<ri jmt cent., the coal snares.
Northern Pacific and Northwest being most
prominent in the decline. In the final deal
ings there was a fractional rallv, and the
market though dull closed linn. The closing
prices compared with those of yesterday show
only a fractional decline. Transactions ag
' gre’gated 242,500 shares at the following quota
tions:
Aia. class A,2t05 83 7 8 Manhattan Elev.
Ala. class A,small*Bs Memphis & C’iiar. 4:<
Ala.class B, 5s .. 102 Metropolitan El.. 9ff.
Ala. class C,.4s 84* 2 Michigan Central 97%
Georgiaßs *l<M Mobile A Ohio 16
“ 7s. mortgage*lo7 Nash. * Chatt'a 59
“ 7s, gold *11554 N.J. Central . 87‘ 4
I-ouisiana consols 65 New Orleans Pa
x'. Carolina, old. 30 ciflc, Ist mort Ss*v 4
“ new .. .*l6 N’.Y. Central 122' ..
“ funding .. 10 New York El 95
“ special tax 5 Norf. A W.pref. 41’ s
So. Caro. Brown) Nor. Pacitic.com. 54*1
consols 106 “ pref, 89v’
Tennessee 65,01 d *4O Ohio&Mississippi 351*
“ new 39', “ “ pref. 113
Virginia ®s *36 Pacific Mail 42> '
v a consolidated *4O Pittsburg . 133
Va, deferred . 9 Quicksilver . 7> 3
Adams Express 129' j “ preferred .37
Am’can Express 89 * Reading 59’.
v h’peake A Ohio. 20 Riclim’dAAl’gh’y 9
t liicagoA Alton 135 Riclim'd A Danv 63
C'hic.A N’rthw’n 132' 4 Richm’d A W.Pt.
“ preferred 151 Terminal 3ti>
Chic.M.l .A N.O. 79 Rock Island 125
Cousolid’ted t 0a1*24 St.lsmis A Sail F 33
Del., Lack. A W ISN “ “pref 57
Den.AßioGrande 47‘„ “ “ Ist pref Off „
Erie 37’, St. Pau) 105*7
E. Tennessee Rd 9’ 4 “ preferred 120*7
Fort Wayne 131 Texas Pacific .38'2
Hannibal A St. J<>l42 Union Pacific 95’,
Harlem . 193* U.S. Express 62
Houston A Texas. 70 Wabash Pacific 303,
Illinois Central 13854 •• pref 45>,
Lake Shore .. ll2\ Well A Fargo 125’,
L’ville A Nash 53 5 , Western Union . S7’ 4
*Bid. 1 Asked.
Slnppina Jntrllujrnrr.
MINIATURE \LMANAt THIS DVT;
St-N Risks neJflg
Sun sets _ue pasaen-
Hioh Water at Ft Pulaski t.«. MeCartby
< —ip> j rue ’ s
Sl NDAV. Jllll; 1,. a n( |
ARRIVED YESTERDAY. is
schr DeMory Gray, Brewster. New York
stone for jetties: vessel to Jos A Rolierte A • <<’
schr Geo Taulane, Smith, New York, stone
for jetties; vessel to Jos A Roberts A to.
Sehr M B Millen, Dver, Nevv York, empty
barrels to Peacock, Hunt A Co; stone for jet',
ties; vessel to D C Bacon A Co.
Steamer St Nicholas, Fitzgerald, Fernau
dina—Woodbridge A liarriman.
CLEARED YESTERDAY.
Steamship City of Augusta, Nickerson. New
Y ork—G M Sorrel.
Steamship L ity of Macon. Nickerson. Phila
delphia—G M Sorrel.
Steamship Win Lawrence, Homier, Balli
more—Jas It West A < o.
Brig Elizalieth Scott (Hr), Evans. Antwerp
Alex sprout A Son.
.•schr Annie I. Henderson, Henderson, Bruns
wick, in ballast —Master.
SAILED YESTERDAY.
Steamship City of Augusta. New York.
Steamship City o’ Macon. Philadelphia.
Steamship Win Lawrence. Baltimore.
Brig Sarah E Kennedy, Seville.
Schr Annie I. Henderson, Brtin-vvi-ik.
MEMORANDA.
Tyliee, June Hi, 8:00 p m—Passed q., sc | ir
A D Lamson.
, ’ i'y of Augiwta,
< ity of Macon, YY m Lawrence, brig Sarah F
Kennedy.
At anchor out wanl Isiund, bark Win Wri-dit
(Br). r
Wind sE, light; fair.
New York. June Hi-Arrived, -learners Tai
lahassee. *.ulf stream, Rapidan. Ilapsbtirg
City of Chester.
\rriyed out. steamers Labrador, Main;
barks I onitnia, lx*if, ExrelHior, \ prodilu, <>l -
braltar. It Peters, Josua. Not Pea-
l>ody, Petchelie, Slgrid, Siberia, stormy
Petrel.
New York, June 14—Arrived, brig Ellen II
Munroe (Br), Mason. Brunswick.
cleared, bark Caro, Armstrong, Fernan
dina; schr Florence A Lillian, smith, Jack
sonville.
Beachy Head, June 11—Passed, bark Staats
minster Stang Nor), Sorensen, Savannah for
Bremen.
Folkestone, June 13—Off, bark Gna (Nor)
Anderson, Savannah for Rotterdam.
Konigsberg, June 10—Arrived, bark Enno
mia (Nor). Torstensen, Savannah.
Addison, Me, June B—Arrived, s-lir Dolly
Y arden, Smith, Brunswick.
Boston, June 14—Arrived,schr Arthur Bur
ton, Crockett, Brunswick.
Baltimore, June 14—Cleared, bark Mendota.
Nash, Savannah.
Perth Amlioy. June 14-Arrived, brig Ellen
II Munroe, Mason, Brunswick.
Sailed, schr Nellie s Pickering, McKeen.
Jacksonville. *
RECEIPTS.
Per Charleston and Savannah lUitwar
June 16—37 caddies tobacco, 25 Isixeo tobacco’
2a bags peanuts, 2 carscattie, 5 i-arsenmlv
bbls, and mdse. ’ 1
Per Savannah. Florida and Western Rail
-5'/ I .Y’ l -; , 1 1,1, ‘ bi 51 balescotton, 42 cars luiuls-r.
l. ..a> bbls rosin, 499 bbls spirits turpentine. 26S
hhiM vegetables, crates vegetanles, 6 sew
mg machines, 1 horse. 1 car iron, 1 car Hour.
12 bales wool, 2 bales hides, and mdse.
Per Central Railroad, June IB—Ml bales .-ot
ton. 858 bbls rosin, 177 bbls spirits I uriH-ntine.
100 sacks Hour. 380 sacks corn, 358 bbls flour, 53
erates apples, 47 pkgv furniture, 25 nkgs mdse
40 Isixes tobacco, 35 crates plums, 34 bales do
mestics, 46 pkgs pails. 15 crates encuiulH is, 4
<-rate.u tomatoes, 3 bbls cabbages, 4 refrigera
tors fruit, .. bbls pot atoes, 4 Isixes hardware.
6 bales yarns, 15 bbls sugars, 5 piece- wagon'
material, 1 bbl syrup, 8 old soda machines, 12
bags paper, 1 piano (Isixed), 1 organ and stool.
1 lx>X wax, lOempty kegs, aemptv bbls. 3 bbls
whisky, 2 burial canes, 2 Ixixes drugs, 1 box
machinery. 3 Ixixes stone, 4 bales hides Ikd
buggy, 2 cases shoes, 2 gas meters, I Isix snuff
3 boxes maccaroiii, 1 Ikix metal. 1 Is.x glass’
ware, 1 bdl sacks, 1 Imx bacon, I locomotive
bri'-'k ' B *° k n,ea1 ’ 17 CMrB 1 ‘’ar
EXPORTS.
Per Btwnshin Citv of Macon, for Phila
delphia—!«4 bales upland cotton, 5 bbls rue.
121 bales domestics. 21(1 iiblx spirits turpentine,
505 bbls rosin. 39,391 feet lunilier, 50,000 shin
gles, 61 Ixives fruit, 1,«35 bbls vegetables, 5.120
crates vegetables. 2! bales paper stix-k, 650
empty keg-. 21 casks clay. 192 pkgs mdse.
Per sleaiiinhlp < itv of Augusta, for New
V ork—s2 hales upland cotton, 78 bales domes
tics, Hix bbls rice 1,015 |,),|„ roM j, | lt ,| h B ., ir .
its turpentine, 129.613 feet lumber. <l3 boxes
frui*. 300 blds flour, 6 bales w<s>l, *1.480 crates
vegetables, is,., bbls vegetables, 4 refrigerators
peaches, x turtle, 294 pkgs mdse.
Per steamship Win Lawrence, for Balti
nion—42o bales cotton, 4 hales wool, 817 bbls
rice, 2.1.3 bbls naval stores, 2,582 Ixixex and
bids vegetables, 43,000 feet lumber, 231 pkgs
mdse. "
Per brig Elizabeth Scott (Br),for Antwerp
-1,*183 bbls spirits turpentine, ixmtaining tlx *isi
gallons.
Pit s<-hr <ieo S Marts, for Baltimore—3 oiu
pieces lumber, measuring 290,283 feet.
PASSENGERS.
Per Steamship city of Augusta, for New
Y ork-.l s„ llt h am. w ife, < Alleyr. Mr Decker,
l ’’ A Graham and wile, I
VI 1 i» r ’" r '!t k e>l ars ' ,n < L Morgan, < aptain
Vt Inb-Ides, H I, Dresser, wife, three children
and servant, MrsCwwery, ix onard Lippman.
A shiHiinoag. Mr- Keefe and twocbildren. Mr
k ’ \ Brink, M I Town-end. I II
Black, < M Holst, T Daniels Jr, Jh- Putze)
andw i.c, Madame! hastmet, W H Niverand
W lie, J I. Adams, E F Knapp, 1. E Mill* and
«lfe, J IfuO, J A Harns-, | ( Burnett, Miss
I. Greenleaf, I R Hendrick, K M'arrs, II R
Lvleandhon, L YY Hunt and wife. M Kaiser.
Mr Schroter and wife, Jno .McHugh. MixaEM
■.V’l'Vo’"' ’' ,lß h I) Johnson, Mi-- M1; Wade
■ > ii ‘ r m U i.? Fl ‘’ iH, “’ r . •'! Mount, wife ami
ilnld V\ J 1 ripp and wife, D Greenleaf ami
in-. Mr-Huff and children, Emma < arter
and child, .1 McKee, and to steerage.
I er steamship Wm la»wrem-<-. for Balti
"‘ VI is- N L. Menre.
Mis- r. 1. scroveii. Miss Nannie Screvon, Mas
,< r , <! J”, W R f-eaken, <: W Rust and
vvtfe. It L Burgess, J e Crowther, H T Hart
man, K*J Mrs Screven’s nurae, R I»
fox.ke 1 D Meld, G s Nuhol-. II s Ellis. Mi
1. Kohler. Mr- E Higgins three children and
nurse J I StUlman. > M Her-G-< h, ' Jack
“[■*'« Heal. W B Walker. Mr- YT
'' M kail, child and nurse. .1 H i.-.d,. Mi-r
R Itorlndff-, Sam’l Solomon.
,VT ! . i,v of Mae.m. for Phila-
delphia-! K I aulding. Re-. M Lvon and-on,
<• 1 laggart. J Deßruyu Korn. R BGoodvn.
ler steamship Caallah<xx-tes-. from New
’.'’o k . I?' V X W Yonge. Mr Ttin
o all .' R“V W Adams. U M
Hacker. I. K Gooff r. Rd Donelan.W H Bean.
v« A Avery. VV (; j„ IHI j .| a rob-u.n. E L Tu
rner and Wife, J Wltom, W S Pottinger, F
I '■ -I Bi.rkim, and 1 steerage.
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