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.Cnuimuinh iliibunc.
PubUahed bv the Tbibums Publish!** 00. |
J. a DKYEAUX. >
VOL. HI.
Truth and Love.
There arc but two things true, dear,
Since time began to run
His wondrous race right through, dear,
The world and round the sun;
And these two things so sweet, dear,
Til sing while I’m above
The grass beneath my feet, dear:
Truth and Love.
There are. but two things sweet, dear
Forever and a day—
For man is incomplete, dear,
And all things pass away;
But these two things I sing, dear.
.Are ever as our youth;
They to the old world cling, dear:
Love and T ruth
They flourish even now. dear,
In spite of lies and death.
I see truth on your brow, dear,
And love is in my breath:
And love will be with truth, dear,
And truth will be with love,
Till we renew our youth, dear,
Up above.
—[John Ernest McCann.
‘‘Hold Number Twelve;
BY LUKE SIIABI’.
“Oh, you heard about that, did you?
Who told you?”
“Charley Branscomo, the conductor.
He said he was running the train- at the
time.”
“So he was. What did he say about
it?”
“He said it was the most daring
thing he ever knew a fellow do. You
see, we were all in his room talking
about railroad escapes and that sort of
thing, and then he told how you saved
the train.”
“Jess so,” replied the telegrapher,
without seeming to be very well pleased
that his heroism had been the subject of
conversation. “Now, honor bright,
didn’t he add anything by. the way of
explanation to the story.-”
“No. What explanation could there
be? You did save the train didn't you?”
“Oh, I saved the train all right
enough. Charley is a good sort on fel
low, I tell you. Yes; he was conductor
on No. 12 at that time, still he might
have added something to the story of
heroism that would have been true
enough, yet it shows what a good
hearted fellow he is not to have ♦old it.”
“Why, were you to blame any about
the dispatch? I understood him to say
that it was no fault on your part.”
“No, it was the train dispatcher’s
fault. He should have let me know
sooner. J don’t brag much about that
episode, but I'll tell you the whole
story.”
The operator paused a moment, and
seemed to look back on that most ex
citing period of his life. The telegraph
machine chattered away on the table,
but the messages were for some other
place.
“You sec,” he began, “No. 12 was
due here at 1:45 a. m. She stopped
here for water, and for orders. She
was the fastest train on the line at that
time, and Branscome did the ticket
board. That night it was
raining cats and dogs, when Charley
• came in with his lantern hung on his
arm, and stood at the desk till Pete
backed the engine from the water tank.
Then he said, ‘nothing for me, ch?’ and
I said there was nothing, and he says
‘well; so long, then,’ and out he went.
At that moment there was a call for inc
at the instrument, and 1 answered it.
I only waited to hear three words of
that message, but 1 tell you those three
words just nude my hair stand on end.
They were:
“ ‘ Hold No. 12. * *
“I gave one glance out the window
and saw the last Pullman sleeper slowly
passing. The remainder of that instant
was taken up in springing clear over
that counter and bolting out on the
platform. Luckily we had a long plat
form at that station and I guess I made
the quickest tune up that set of planks
that was ever made along that road.
You see on a day train it would not be
to bad, for the conductor always swings
himself on the lust coach, but on the
night trains, especially at that hour,
everybody in the sleepers are sleepers
themselves, and so he gets on the last
regular car, which is about tho middle
SAVANNAH. GA.. SATURDAY. FEBRUARY 4,1888.
of the train. No. 12 generally had three
sleepers. She had four on that night.
“Well, I swung on the platform of
the last sleeper just as it was passing
the end of the station, and 1 was never
so thankful for anything in my life for
the train was beginning to go pretty
fast, and it was that or nothing.
“I knew that even then there was not
a second to be lost, and I must confess
that I was pretty badly rattled. Al
though I had only heard the first three
words of the dispatch I knew that some
where on the line, near or close, there
was another train coming, that expected
to pass No. 12 at our siding.
“I tried the door of tho sleeper and
was horrified to find it locked. I kicked
and beat at the door, but the porter was
at the other end of the car, probably
polishing up someone’s boots or very
likely asleep. Then I tried to break the
glass of the window so that I could put
in my arm and push back the door
catch, but you know how thick the
plate glass is in a car door, and I had
nothing but my elbow to break it with.
Every moment I lost was putting me in
a frenzy. I gave one despairing kick at
the door hoping to break it in, but it
was no good.
“The next instant I resolved to get at
Pete, the engineer, by climbing over
the top of the train. How I ever got
up there I don’t know. I don’t believe
I could do it now on a standing car to
save my life and by this time the train
was rattling along at forty miles an
hour, swinging around those curves in a
way that took my breath away.
“The top was slippery with the wet
and there was nothing to hold on to.
I started to run along the top
with the blinding smoke and sparks in
my eyes and remembered, when 1
sprawled full length on the roof, that
there were iron pipes to let out the
stove smoke.
1 went the rest of the way on my
hands and knees. The ends of the car
roofs, as you know, come close together
and there was no difficulty about getting
over the junction, yet, I tell you that
was a terrible crawl It was as dark as
black cats and the smoke was blinding,
besides the sudden jerks around the
curvesand me on those slippery, roofs
with nothing to hold on to, and all this
at over forty miles an hour, was no
joke.
“At last I came to the end of the bag
gage car and tried to yell to Pete, whom
1 saw there holding on the lever, but
my voice seemed gone. The fireman, 1
forget his name, was shoveling in coal.
I gathered myself up and made one
grand leap down on the tender, landing
on my hands ami knees among the coal.
I crawled over into the cab and said in
a voice so hoarse that it sounded strange
to myself:
“‘Back her, Pete, for God’s sake;
there’s another train ahead.’
“Then I keeled right over where I
stood ami fainted dead away. The
strain had been too much for me.
“I can just remember Pete’s scared
face as he saw a coal-begrimed tramp,
dripping and without a hat, apparently
jump down on him from out the clouds,
but he didn’t hesitate a moment. Just
as 1 went oil I heard the scream of the
air brakes, and noticed that Pete flung
her clean over.
“Pete wasn’t a man to ask any
questions. He always did his business
first and left the talking until after
wards.
“Pete and the conductor helped me
into my room after they had side
tracked the train. While he waited
there I told them all about it. Then
Charlev looked at Pt; ami Pete looked
at Charley. That look ha 1 a peculiar
meaning.
“ ‘ What's the matter?' I said. ‘Don’t
you believe there’s a train ahead?’
“‘I guess so,’ answered Charley.
'But why didn’t you puli tho bell rop -
from the end platform ?’
“‘Yea,’ put in Pete, ‘or kick the
underpinning from the semaphore cogs
and show the r d light ahead of me.
That would have stopped the train.
“Well, I felt pretty cheap, foriither
of those plans would have work* all
right if 1 had had my wits about n .
“Before I could say a word, although
I don’t know that I had anything inucl
to say, the special came past with s
rush and a roar that shook the depot and
Charley said as he picked up his lantern,
‘Well, never mind, old fellow. It was
the bravest thing I ever knew of and
anyhow you saved the train.’
“So you see, as I told you, if Charley
did not tell that part of it he is a pretty
good sort of a fellow, don’t you think
so?”—[Detroit Free Press.
A Traveling Quack’s lies ice.
A short time ago a quack experiment
ed in Lambeth with considerable suc
cess upon the pockets of an awestricken
crowd. After a preliminary harangue
ami a terse little lecture on the viscera,
which the charlatan sketched in with
colored crayons upon a blackboard on
which the human skeleton was outlined
in white paint, the fellow came to busi
ness. “I am going to demonstrate to
you,” said he, “by a startling experi
ment upon one of you by-standers, that
my miraculous remedy can cure all
diseases of the iungs and chest. Now
whoever’s got a bad cough, or cold on
the chest, let him stand forward.”
There was some little hesitation and i:
good deal of giggling. “Don't be
afraid, my friends,” said the quack ,
“it’s all free, gratis, for nothing. Let
any afflicted person come forward and
I’ll show him the nature of his disorder,
and give him a packet of my lung
healers for nothing.” At last a man
with a violent cold and cough came for
ward. The quack doctor pretended to
sound his chest with a stethoscope of
almost pantomimic proportions and in
formed the staring crowd that the pa
tient was in a galloping consumption.
“My friend,” Said the quack to the
unfortunate victim, “so terrible is this
disease that you can actually see it.”
He handed a glass tube to the patient
and then poured a pint of clear water
into a large tumbler. “Just you blow
into that water, my friend, ’ lie cried.
The man obeyed, and the water grew
discolored, tifrpid, and at last as white
as if it had been mixed with milk. The
patient himself became as pale as ashes.
“This unhappy man, my friends,” said
the quack, as he held the glass on high,
“if he hadn't hail the good fortune to
come across me to-night wouldn’t
have been long for this world.
I should have given him about
a fortnight; that’s all. Now a
packet of my lung-healers will cure him.
What you see tn the glass of water are
his vitiated humors, the products of
corruption. My magic lung-healers
destroy these humors in the body or out
of the body. Observe, my friends,
watch me carefully, th re is no decep
tion here.” The quack dropped a pinch
from one of a packet of powders into a
glass, and directed the patient to stir it
with the tube. The water became im
mediately clear. Then he reaped his
harvest. The water was lime-water, and
the carbonic acid in the man’s breath
naturally threw down the carbonate of
lime at once, and rendered the water
turbid. And tho miraculous lung
healer was simply a little citric acid and
sugar, which instantly dissolved it.—
[London Saturday Review.
Saved By His Wile.
The explorer Holub, who started foi
Central Africa with his bride on his
wedding day, two vears ago, has re
turned to Vienna. He is reported as
saying that “he would have been killed
a dozen times in the region north of the
Zambesi lint for his wife. The natives
had never before seen a person who
wore skirts or long hair, and they re
garded Mrs. Holub as a supernatural
being, who had the white man under
her special protection. On- tribe de
sired her for their queen, and begged
hard that she would remain with them.”
Os Some Ise. Anyway.
Smith—Hello, Jones! you don’t look
very well this morning.
Jones—And I don’t feel as well as J
look. Got up in the middle of tin
night to take som • pills, and swallowed
four collar button before J found out
the mistake. [J udge.
A Mighty Bear Hunter.
Considerable excitement was occa
i sioned this morning about town when
Mike Wallace, the old time Water
| Canyon miner, came in from the
s West with a wagon loaded with
: dead bear, there being four car
-5 casses, which he disposed of to the
Blanchard Meat and Supply company.
1 It appears that a day or two ago Mikt
I Wallace, accompanied by a Mr. Hanna,
took a stroll up the canyon some dis
tanco from the residence of the former,
and suddenly Wallace discovered sev
eral big bears before him. Almost
at the same moment bears rose up
all around him, the timber being full of
them. Wallace began work with his
Winchester, and when the magazine
was emptied, he seized Hanna's rille and
continued to lower the price of meat in
this vicinity. In but a few moments he
■ had succeeded in killing seven big
bears, and with the help of miners fur
ther down the canyon, who were sum-
| moned to assist five of the animals were
carried to the camp. The last two
i were killed within ten feet of Wallace
; and charging down upon him when he
shot, them, so that his escape was a mar
vellous one. Nineteen bears in all wore
counted in the bunch —[Socorro ( N. 'I )
! Chieftain.
The Longest Street-Car Line.
' The longest street-ear line in tin
world is now in process of construction
in the Argentine Republic. It is so
much longer than any other lino that it
quite dwarfs the eight and ten-mile
roads of our cities. It is also the only
■ street-ear line in the world which uses
' sleeping-cars. The road has 200 miles
of track, connecting a number of towns
in the vicinity of Buenos Ayr s Hortes
are used there as motive power instead
of steam, because fuel is dear, horses
| cheap, and the people am slow. Two
| tons of coal will buy a horse and liar
; ness. The equipment for this road has
* been entirely furnish it by a Philadel
phia car edmpany. The sleeping cars
i are a curiosity. I'hey arc four in num
ber, eighteen feet in length, and an
i furnished with four berths each, wind
are made to roll up when not in use. Tht
cars arc furnished with water-coolers,
1 linen presses, and other conveniences,
and are finished throughout with ma
hogany. The other cars are four double
decked open cars, twenty platform cars,
twenty gondola cars, six refrigerator
1 ears, four poultry cars, furnished with
> coops, eight cattle cars, two derrick
cars for lilting heavy material, and 200
box cars.-—| Inter-Ocean.
The Chief City of Paraguay.
I have reached this Metropolis—
I Asuncion-of (he far South at last, after
a thirty-six days’ sea trip from the
Spanish coast, writes a correspond nt
of the San Francisco Bulletin. Having
spent a few days in looking about and
getting my eyes opened in regard to the
highly interesting section of the globe
and which to me seems like a new
world. I must speak of some of the sur
prises which 1 have had, for isolated
1 Asuncion is getting to be a great city.
It is the capital of the per-istent and
energetic republic of Paraguay, and is
picturesquely situated on the river of
the same name. It is in latitude about
as far south of the equator as our city
of Galveston is north, and as to climate
is a most delightful place to live in.
was surprised to find such a busy little
metropolis, with its railroads an I steam
boats, its telephone systems, street < :ir
lines and other appliances of modern
civilization, I was surprised to see
■ucli enterprise and public spiritedm- s
where the population is made up so
largely of the native race and the de
scendants of indolent Spain; and I
was surprised to find such a pleasant,
scini-tropical climate with its fruits and
foli: ge.
. Tired Enough to Sit llowii.
He hii l been out very late the night
before, and it was ten o'clock when h
eame down to breakfast.
Husband: What makes the coffee so
weak t
Wife: Because, it has been standing
m long Ti x i -it:
(11.25 Per Annum; 75 cento for Six Months;
-' 50 cents Three Mentha; Single Copiaa
I 5 cento- -In Advance.
Remarkable Tree ( ulture.
Ex-Mayor Harrison writes to tha
Chicago Mail from Japan, as follows:
The skill of these people in tree cul
ture is even more surprising than that
shown in flori-culture. The latter is not
so novel to the average American. Ho
has seen at home tho little wild rose
worked up into the huge and perfect
jacqueminot. He has enjoyed the de
licious odor of the rose peony trans
formed from the rank-smelling, old
fashioned plant, and is ready to com
prehend any monstrous metamorphosis
among flowers. But when he sees hero
an old pine tree with gnarled and bent
branches, its whole appearance the
exact counterpart of the ancient
monarch of tho mountain side—when ho
secs this old looking, perfectly healthy,
ami thrifty Hr, 100, 200, and even
300 and 100 years old, grow
ing in a (lower pot four suet
long, two feet wide, and
not two feet deep, ho hardly knows
whether he be most interested in the
skill evinced or amused by tho gro
tesqueness of the idea which suggested
the thing. Such a tree as this 1 have
seen. Its whole height was not tivo
feet, and its gnarled branches did not
cover an area of eight feet. 1 asked
its ago, and was answered 'l5O years.
Near by were dozens of smaller ones in
pottery vases, perfect in form—some
round mid bright as the denizens of the
rich bottom land. Others, queer look
ing, odd old lilliputians, that made one
think he was viewing an old ancestor of
centuries ago hanging from a rocky
crag; that he was looking at it through
the revelseil lenses of a powerful field
glass. I ask: “How old is that?”
“It was planted by my father fifty
two years ago.”
“And that?”
“My grandfather put it in tho pot
seventy years buck.”
“And this other h<T: that looks as if
it had been watered from the fresh
water tank in Noah’s ark? - ’
“Ah, that is a beauty—and is the
pride of my garden. It was trans
planted when no taller than my little
linger l.y my great-great-great-great
gland lather, m arly 200 years ugo. He
spat upoi its r nt-, lie is a good god
now. and his soul sits among its green
brmieiies every day and blesses his chil
dren.” Ami th" good man folded his
hands ami looked as if he felt that the
spirit ot his am-sior, now one of his
household god , h ard his pious words.
The ( old Hafers of Superior.
How cold the 'lark water of Lake
Supciior i-? One evening when wt
were steaming a< ross that lake I asked
the mate wh ; was done when a man fell
overboard. If coolly replied, “Noth
ing.”
“Why?’ I asked, astonished at his
heart Ic .sness.
•The water of Like Superior is sc
cold that a man cannot live in it during
the time it takes io stop n rapidly-mov
ing vessel and lower a boat,” he re-
•-* • *
plied. Then he added: “I have-ailed oil
this lake for 20 years. During that
'ime I have known in my men to tall
oil’ vessels. 1 know of o:m nan only
who escaped death. He wits -uvi.-U by s
scratch. The others were apparently
killed by the -hock produced by falling
into such cold water.” He picked ;ij
mi empty can t<> ‘ihich.a long string
was attached and cast it overboard.
The can '-kipped from the crest of one
wave to that of another for in in-tant,
then dipped mid tilled. The hoary
headed mate drew the full can up and ..
handi-d it to me, saying: “Take »
drink of that, ami then you say what
you think of your > hances of swimming
in Lake Superior lor 10 or 15 minutes.’
I drank deeply, mid it was ns thougl
liquid ice flowed down my throat.
“Ii i- .dh gel,” the mute said, *
this take m ' r gives up its dead,
to be drowned in Lake Superior is to Ire’
buried for ail time. I do not know?ra
nin th'i this is true or not. but 1 do*
know that 1 have never seen a torjise
fl i.i'.inz on the hike.” 1 wonder if that
is tru. .' 1 iloubted it, but 1 could find*
no Miilor who had ever »een a dead Ixxlj N
floating on th? bike. ‘ New York Times. 0
NO. IC>.