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I
T
. WZTBEMUBD ROBES.
. • ifluut «rn—
Every#b«ro our flauoM turn,
, Time ojd grave* nnoovero.
Many a dol.oty, perfumed note
Hands Ivug cold onoe warmly wroU|
F /dden here by lovara.
*' A 1 manly heart*, now cold,
Ah | the mem’rics, aweet and old,
* This quaint room diaclosea.
All the warmth la chill to-day;
All the life has panted away;
' Tf»ught la left but rose*—
Boeea, withered now and dead,
AU their ancient eweetneaa fled
Vrith Iholr ancient splendor.
Aa I bend above, I feel
A vague fragrance from them steal,.
Llko a mem’ry tender,
Of their older pleasant daya,
When tho nun’s rich golden blaze
Kianed their cheeks to glory.
Ah I tho pain these mem’rlea give I
Alai tho pain that ono must live
•When our life’s aweet story
nolda no more tho golden joy |
Of what line a valued toy,
When Its charm Is broken?
Of our life when youth Is o’er—
Of tho past which cornea no more,
Are those flowers the token,
irtion tbo nun has lost hla light,
When tho fall of wintor’a night
Our autumn-tide o’crolonon
Call wotheu tho memories sweet—
Of those vnutshed memonts fleet—
»' Ash«ri of youth’* rosea.
A BOLD BACKWOODS BOY.
Jatl was eleven years old and little
Clilo, his sister, was two‘years younger.
But tliis wns a great many years ago
when thei* father, Mr. Dunlap, had just
moved- into a township in the western
port of Maine, which was then a wild,
uninhabited region, save wherq hero and
there an adventurous settler had planted
his littlo log hut in the heart of the
wilderness, and laid baro a few acres of
the forest ns a nuelous of tho future
homo of l}£jnnolf aud thriving family—
alsaost l^wnys a small colony in itself.
Alv who cab tell* wliat homesick mo
menta and lougings for the old associa
tions our pioneer fathers and mothers
sndured, coming, as did many of them,
**om wealthy States and pleasant snr-
jmindiilgia, . There must have been a
mighty attraction' in the wild, free life
of the backwoodsman and a genuine-
love of the simplo and homely joys of
the rough hearthstone, to have w held'
them in these rude homes, almost iso
lated, as they wero, from the world, j
But tlioy lived iu anticipation, looking
eagerly forward tp a, future of plenty ^
when the f wilderness should become
cultivated, apd fruitful through their
first persi8tont,and hardy efforts.
With • Ah "anCrgy characteristic of the
first settlors^''Mr. Dunlap pushed 'his
way 6n through' toil, hardships and
many • privations, at first felling and
clearing a pjtdh, largo enough to put up
a log cabin for his family, then by de
grees cutting farther and farther into
tho primitive RliWv -quite a
large tract fay open' totlio sun,-a- part
of which was under tolerable cultivation,
the rest laying black and still smoking
from .recent burnings.
As before stated, Jnd was bow eleven.
Ho was a dark-faood, sinewy lad, tough
an a thong, inheriting much of his
fatherfs, pjucl|; .and' endurance. What
ever ho undertook to do ho was pretty
suro to carry through. ,
In these unsettled regions wild ani
mals were numerous, especirlly the wild
cat, lyux and glutton, or wolverine.
These creatures often come into the
clearings, and their frequent depreda
tions became a great pest to tho set
tlers.
Thoro was also on abundance of
■mailer game to be had for the trapping,
and this fall Jad was anticipating no
end of enjoyment in tho warm Indian
summer days, trapping for “musquash”
(muskrat) and mink along Benny brook,
which ran post-this clearing half a mile
iway in the woods. His' father had
helped him make liis traps, ’ and on his
»cry first visit he was greatly elated by
iuding a sleek aud glossy mink in one of
them. This piece of, good took had set
Jud null wild, for mink skins brought a
high price at the “ big settlement,”
twenty, five miles down tho country,
wh'^re liis father always went to do his
trailing.
Jad watched hid traps eagerly os a*
miser watches his money bags. But
with all his vigilance, what was his dis
may to find, ono morning, in the trap
farthest up stream, that a mink had been
caught and taken out by some wild beast
and devoured. The tail and littlo feath-
erly clumps of fur lay scattered about
the trap. Dire vengeance against the
wild marauder at once possessed his
heart.
Littlo Clilo was a keen sympathizer in
his troubles. She was also his com
panion in this trapping expedition, in
which it wiis her duty to carry the bait—
sometimes a squirrel, ofteuer a trout
caught from the brook.
“ What il’you s’poso got him ? ” asked
Ohio, as Jad stood looking ruefully at
tho tail, which he held between lys
thumb aud finger.
“I don’t know, unless ’twos a glut
ton, or a wildcat. Pa says they are al
ways nosin’ roimd to get tho bait out of
traps and what’s oaught in ’em. Con
found him! Seven dollars gone down
\is throat 1 ” he exolaimed, wrathfully.
“It’s too bad,” cried-little' Ohio.
* Can’t you catoh him ?”
Jad thought a moment. His father
tail a steel fox-trap.. He would set that
and have the thief. Leaving Ohio, lie
hastoned to the house, got the trap and
raced back to the brook. It was set at
lost to his satisfaction, and baited with
a squirrel, whioh he hod brought hlong
to bait his mink-traps with. He drove
a stake down throngh the ring in the
trap-chain,, so as to hold whatever was
caught. » ,
Two days passed and n6t a mink lja<}
been near, but tho bait was gone out of
the steel trap; and also from two of the
mink*traps. With his UfuaL.peraever-,
anoe, Jad rebaited them add waited.
THE BUTLER HERALD?
W. N. BENNS, JAMES D. RUSS. Editors
“LIST TUu.be he i.ihht.”
WkMriirtiM, 31.50 In Mna
VOLUME VI.
BUTLER, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, DECEMBER 6. 1881.
NUMBER 10.
The bait was again eaton out of most of
his mink-traps, and, what was more ex
asperating, another mink had been
.fisught and oaten.
Jad’s patience now nearly gave way,
and he was tempted to tear his traps up.
But on second thought he resolved to try
onoe more. He would bait only the fox-
trap.
Jad did not visit it tho next morning,
as usual, for ho was obliged to fiuish
horovsting the potatoos. But after din
ner, his father having gono to assist at
putting up a log cabin for a newly-av-
rived settlor, some two miles distant,
Jad and Clilo set off for the brook,
hatchot and fishpole in hand.
As they neared the place where tho
fox-trap was set they heard the chain
clinking,
“ I bet my head we’ve got him I ” Jad
cried excitedly, dashing through a clump
of oedars.
And, sure enough, there lie was. A
big, round-headed wild-cat!
At Jad’s sudden appearance the oreat-
ure bounded aud loapoil frantically to
free himself; but the stake was a strong
one;
After cutting a stout green club three
or four feet iu length, Jad stuck the
hatchet beneath tho strap whioh ho wore
for a licit, and going ns near us he dared
struck at the creature with all his might.
Hfe missed, howover, and the cat darted
jrqiind |to the other Bide of the stake,
bringing up with a sudden jerk, where
-it crouched, growling low and watching
the boy with fiery oyes anil ears laid
brtdk.
“Oh, don’t go so near him, Jad!”
ctiuiioped little Ohio, retreating across
the brook. “He’ll fly at ye’fore yo
know it 1 ”
“Let ’im fly !” cried the now-excited
boy. “He’s going to get liis head
cracked ’fore I’m done with ’im l Take
that, ye sneakin’ thief!” he added,
Venturing up and bringing down tho
club, with a quick blow, just grazing
tho animal as he again jumped to the
other side.
Then round and round the stake they
flew* Jad thumping the ground, trap,
tidytfiing but ’the cat, which adroitly
kfcpt'fttit of his roaclf, jill'the fcimo furi
ously snarling and spitting. It was
hard telling which was pursuer as they
gyrated about the, stake umid a perfect
whirlwind of dead leaves.
Butin .an unlucky moment Jail’s club
got under the trap chain, and bringing
it up suddenly he threw the rjng over
the top of the stake. With a bound the
creature.was, qff, tho chain rattling after
him and catching under roots and
stones.
Tiiore was not a second to lose, mud
the boy gave hot ohase. Tlioy ran on
for fifty rdd’s or more ; then, seeing Jail
so close upon him, tho oat soratoliod up
the trunk, of a hemlock, trap anil all,
and froiq i the branches glared at tho
panting and ejeoited boy.
Jad’s courage was now up to the high
est pitch, aud throwing down his club
he began to climb tho rough trunk.
“ Don’t go up there, Jad, for pity’s
siiko, don’t 1.” implored littlo Ohio, -now
coming uij all out of breath.
“ Yes, an’ let him go off with pa’s trap
on his foot, wouldn’t ye? Just like a
girl—‘fraiil of her own shadder ! ’,’ cried
Jad scornfully. “ I toil yer, Lo’s goMo.
pay for them mink with his skin—see if
he don’t!” and he climbed ©n labor
iously, giving vent to his indignation in
tlirents which he meant to pnt into exe
cution.
Beaching the lower limbs, Jail
grasped the hatoliet firmly, ready for an
assault. As he came within a yard of
the cat it kept clawing and making
attempts to leap down upon the boy’s
head, all the time growliug fiercely.
Throwing the hatchet hack over his
shoulder ns far ns he could reaclij Jail
struck at the big head in the crotch of
the tree just above him. But tho
creature dodged tho blow. He again
struck und missed; but tho next time ho
was fortunate enough to hit tho cat on
tho head, fairly knocking it oil’ the limb
to the ground, where for a moment it loy
stunned and motionless.
Jad slipped quickly down the trunk,
thinking the victory now won. But tho
animal, recovering itself, set upon the
boy with true felino grit, and the next
moment they were engAged in a lively
tussle, while little Ohio ran back and
forth shouting for help at the top of her
voice.
The woods resounded with the con
fused medley. Jad now found that he
must fight for his life, and with another
desperate blow he again stunned the
creature, and, before he could recover,
the resolute boy dispatched him.
Dropping the bstobet, Jad threw him-
self on . the * ground, panting and ex
hausted. Poor little Ohio now came
timidly forward, trembling and costing
frightened glanoee at the animal, as if
she half expected it would even now
leap upon her.
“Oh, Jad !” cried the little girl, see
ing tho boy’s tattered frock, “ you must
be awful hurt 1 And, oh, see your
arm!”' i .' , j J
“No, I ain’t hurt, neither,” doclhrod
1 lad, stoutly, sitting; up, “not mooli,
pay way*.. TUat/s Qnto u little scratch 1”
regarding liia am! rjJefiiUy. J \ ' jj 1
It was a pretty big one, however.
Binding some birch witlieH firmly about
tho creature’s hind legs, Jail, witii little
Ohio’s assistance, ilraggod him to tho
house,
“My patience alive!’’ cried their
mother, running to tho door, as sho
caught sight of tho children. “Jad
Dunlap ! you venturesome boy, wf iro
‘lid you get that wildcat ? ”
“Ho got into our trp.p, an’ then run
oft' up a tree with it, and Jad clim’ up
after ’im,” little Clilo hastened to ex
plain. “I told him not to,” she added,
soeing tho gathering reproof in her
mother’s eyes.
“And you got well scratched,” said
Mrs. Dunlap, turning Jad about and
eying his bleeding arm. “I guess ;
’twill learn you to let wildcats alone! ” '
“lie won’t eat any more of my mink, !
anyway,” muttered Jad.
Ho did not get much sympathy from I
his father, either, who chided him se- j
ve^elv for liis want of prudeiwe, and
bndo him bo more cautious in tin. future
about attacking such animals.
It took a long time to heal up Jad’s
lacerated arms and shoulders, and it
was a number of days before ho got over |
the soreness and lameness enough to
visit his traps. However, Jad was not
troubled again that fall, whilo two more
mink wero added to his little pile of furs,
which ho sent on his father’s load down
to the “ settlement’’ not long oftorT
A REPORTER'S WORK.
It is generally supposed by the world
at large, says a sympathetic contempor
ary, that tho lot of a reporter is liappi- j
ness itself. Ho is envied by the rioh
and the poor, but especially by the boys I
during circus time, as he is supposed to
“git in for nut bin’,” which is a big ;
thing in the eye of tho gamin, There !
are .those boside tho gamin who think
he wears a magic slipper that carries
him safely past all doofkeepers and •
tickot-sellors; that ho sports a charm
about his throat that brings forth free
beer and bug-juice nil libitum ; that he
has brass pluted checks which are pass
ports even, iilta the Skeleton-closet of ,
the household,'and that his conscience
is pliablo and liis disposition so morce- !
nary that it is but necessary to cross his I
palm with a fow paltry shekels to turn ;
liis calumny into praise and his facts j
into fancies.
But alas and alack! Truth stripped of |
tho imagery with whioh it is frequently ,
clothed often times would not be recog- I
nized by its own mother. Behold the j
naked truth.
In order to get tho facts with which fto
construct his numorous articles, lie must j
travel, on on average, five miles a day, j
or an aggregate of 1,600 mil os a year.
During these perambulations lie asks
several thousand oiyil questions ami gets
soveral thousand uncivil answers; gets
fired out of offices and houses; has doz
ens of doors slammed in his faco; is
asked 10,000 questions, and returns ns
many short but .civil answers; gets in
tbb cirCus once on a promise to give it a
big send-off; is button-holed 1,300 times
by parties who desire to impart a good
item about tliemsolves ; is let into sever
al political seerots by candidates, which
aro boro-faced boosts ; is boosted by the
same candidates because ho didn’t pub
lish tho secrets ; is welcomed wherever
his penoil will put money into people’s
pockets or give them a little notoriety.
However, he pays 6 cents a glass for
beer, full rates for board, top prices for
clothes, either walks or pays full fare on
street cars.
Whilo others aro enjoying the opera,
the social party, the circus, prayer
meetings, lectures, a game of poker, a
turn on tho roller skates or marching
with a political club, tho reporter is
wrestling with a mass of chaotic facte
and endeavoring to got them into shape
for you to read wliile you quietly dis
patch your good warm breakfast.
He gets to bed at 8 o’clock in the
morning, and, between tho annoyances
of flies, noisy chambermaids and pencils
of sunlight boring into his eyes, he does
well to get seven hours’ sleep by the
time he is aroused at noon to get his
breakfast.
At 1 o’clock he reports at the office
and begins the same old round of duties.
But, taking one consideration with an
other, the life of a reporter is not much
worse than that of a street-oar driver,
after all.—Oil City Derrick.
A DECORATED HEN.
Did you ever wrestle with a hen that
hud a wild, uncontrollable desire to in
cubate ? Did you ever struggle on, day
after day, trying to convince her that
her mission wns to furnish eggs for your
table instead of hovering all day on a
door-knob, trying to hatoh oat a Utter
of front doors 2
WiUiam H. Boot, of this place, who
has made the hen a study, both in her
home life and while lying in the embraco
of death, has struck np an argument
whioh tho average hen will pay more
attention to than any other ho has dis
covered in liis researches.
He says the modern hen ignores
almost everything when sho once gets
the notion that she is caUed upon to
incubate. You can deluge her with the
garden-hose, or throw old umbrellas at
her, or ehango her nest, but that don’t
count with the firm and stubborn hen.
You can take tho eggs out of the nest
and put a blooded bull-dog or a nest of
now-laid bumble bees in place of them,
and she will liover over them os assidu
ously as she did before.
William H. Boot’s hen had shown
some signs of this mania, so he took oat
the oggs and let her try her incubator
on a horse-rake awhile, just so she could
kind of taper off gradual and not have
her mind shattered. Then he tried her
at hatching out four-tined forks, and at
last her taste got so vitiated that sho
took the contract to furnish the country
with bustles by hatching out an old
hoop-skirt that had gone to seed.
Mr. Boot then made on experiment.
He got a strip of red flannel and tied it
around her tail. The hen seemed an
noyed as soon as she discovered it. No
hen cores to have a sash hung on her
system that doesn’t match her complex
ion. A seal brown hen with a red flau-
nol polonaise don’t seem to harmonize,
and she is aware of it just as much as
anybody is.
That hen seemod to have thought of ,
something all at once that lind escaped
her mind before. Sho stepped about j
nine lest at a lick on the start, and
gained time os sho proceeded. Her eye
began to look wild. She got so pretty ;
soon that she didn’t recognize the face of ,
friends. She passed Mr. Boot without 1
being able to distinguish him from a
total stranger.
These peculiar movements were kept
up during the entire afternoon, till tho j
hen got so fatigued that she crawled :
into a length of a stove-pipe. This is o J
triumph of genius in tho line of hen j
culture. It is not sovoro, though firm |
in treatment, and, whilo it of course an
noys and unmans the hen temporarily, i
it is salutary in its results, and at the :
same timo it furnishes a pleasant little
matinee for the spectators.—Nye'a
Boomerang.
Tnrau! are now 500,000 miles of tele-
graphic wires in the United States;
Great Britain uses 114,000 miles of lines;
Germany has 160,000 miles and more
than 3,000 miles ol underground cable ;
British India has 50,000 miles ; Fr nnce
115,000; Belgium, 15,000; Spain, 25,000;
Denmark, 65,000, and Norway 10,000,
which* are used chiefly in the manage
ment of her fisheries. Tho Emperor of
China has allowed 1,270 miles to be
built during the past year. Persia has
6.000 miles and Egypt 9,000. Bussia lias
180.000 miles in use,. Australia lias 15,
000 .and New Zealand ;10,000. South
AmeiW. Vflh the* exception of a trans
continental line from Valparaiso to
Buenos Ayres anil a short-line betweon
Aspic wall aud TPanama," 1 Fibs no land
ikes....'U»/.!•..
Mr. Lee Howard has returned from
Iceland, whither ho went iu the early
summer at the request of the American
Geographical Society, with a view of
settling some disputed points in tho to
pography of that island. This is Mr.
Howard’s third season in Iceland, anil
last year the ponies ho loft behind all
died in consequence of the scarcity of
lood. As he journeyed through Iceland
ho found wholo flocks of ptarmigan all
dead. He also shot a flue polar bear,
weighing over 800 pounds, which was so
weak that linil it como up to him it
conld not linvo hurt him. Later he
found another bear dead in the mount
ains. Tho Esquimaux in Greenland
told Mr. Howard that they had never
known such a season. They had been
forced several degrees further south in
consequence of tho cold. There was
hardly any summer either in Iceland or
Greenland. There wero snow-storms nil
tho time of his stay, from Juno 6 to
Aug. 27. The last was the hardest win- j
ter since 1690. There is in consequence
so little forage that the Government of
Iceland itself thinks that tho hardy na
tive ponies will not live through tho
winter, nor will any cattle fare better.
Mr. Howard is of opinion that Iceland
will before long bo depopulated. For
merly huts were found right through
the island. Now you cannot find liuts -
fifteen miles from the shore, aud the
line is gradually narrowing.
Queen Victoria wished to elevate the
lato Dean Stanley to a bishopric, and
expressed great displeasuro at his re
fusal. “I am so contented with my
deanery that I would not leave it for any
bishopric,” was his reply. It was when
the Queen was quite assured of his seri
ous intention to live and die Dean of
Westminster that the idea wassuggested
to her of keeping Laily Augusta Bruce,
her muid of honor, to whom she was
greatly attaoliod^jever near her by a
marriage with Stanley. She dreaded
La’dy Augusta’s' tiH(indonment of En
gland to settle- in Canada, whero her
brother, Lord Elgin, was Governor.
Stanley was exaotly the man- to suit the
qukt habits and religions tastes of Lady
Augusta, and tlie m(image*’ was always
considered ono of tho happiest of all
those exit eluded under the auspices of
iier WejqiAy, whose taient. for match
making is proverbial, •
CROSSING THE EQUATOR.
The Now York World thus explains
how a person crossing the equator at
the 180th meridian loses ono day out o
liis life, and why: In time each day be
gins at midnight; in place, at the 180th
meridian. When it is midnight at
Greenwich it will be, let ns say, Wednes 1
day for 180 deg. east and Tuesday for
180 deg. west, the 180th meridian divid
ing tho two days. If a person crosses
tho meridian coming east, he sails out
of Wednesday and into Tuesday. If he
goes westward he sails out of Tuesday
and into Wednesday. It is never tlie
sa®o day all around the world except
when it is striking midnight on the
180th meridian. One hour after it is mid
night 15'deg. further west, and 1 a. m. of
Wednesday (say) at the meridian, Wed
nesday extending over 15 deg. of the
surface of tlie earth, and Tuesday over
tlw remaining 346 deg. In other words,
the now day extends from the 180th me
ridian west to midnight, wherever that
may be, , anil the old day extends from
the 180th meridian east till it meets tho
new day at midnight. Beveising it, it
is tho new day from midnight at any
point on the earth eastwurd to the 180th
meridian, and the old day westward to
that meridian. It does not matter upou
what parallel of latitude you pass the
180tli degree of longitude—whether at
the equator or the Arctic circle—tho old
day is always east of it and the
new ’ day west of it, Iu crossing
tho 180th meridian ships add or drop a day
in order to keep accurate time. A steamer
aai ling riv aid, from San Fra&eisdofor Yo
kohama, comes to the meridian at 10
a. m. Tuesday. Her bow crosses, and
in. tho forecastle it is 10 a. m, Wednes
day*,' while in the cabin it is 113 a. m. of
Tuesday. A moment later, it is 10 a. m.
of Wednesday in tho cabin also, and
Tuesday is left behind. . Twenty-four
hours has been added to the reckoning,
but qo time has beep actually gained.
A vessel sailing east'ward reverses this—
sailing out'of t 10. a* m. Wednesday into
10 a. m. of Tuesday. It was once the
habit of skippers sailing eastward not
to go bock a day, bat to aim a Sunday
in tho middle-of the week tq straighten
tlie reckoning, to Hvhich d(ty ; nil jobs
postponed indefinitely were -delegated,
nu4 this is tho origin of the pliraae
often heard in New England- coast
towns, “ When Sunday comes in the
middle of tlie week, I’ll do it.” It may
bo asked, “ What becomes pf the 10 a.
m. of Tuesday that was left behind?”
Tnat 10 u, m. of Tuesday was twenty-
four hours old. It began on the merid
ian twQuty-four hourp’, previously/tilrv-
oled westward around (lie world, and
was then ready to give up the ghost and
let 10 a. 11 m.T.x>t; .‘■Wodhflflday begin its
journey. Each hour of each day begins
at the 180tli meridian, travels westward
for twenty-four hours, and when it ar
rives at the meridiau tho same hour of
the next day starts. The wholo arrange
ment is on arbitrary one, agreed upou
by Christian people in order to simplify
reckoning, aud tho 180th meridiau is se
lected for the beginning of the day be
cause it is in the middle of tho Pacifio
ocean and avoids tho complications that
would arise if the day began at a merid
ian running through a thickly-popu
lated country.
IiOW TO TREAT ANIMALS.
Another individual attempts by run
ning and yelling to catch his cow or
cows. Why do those naturally gentle
animals run away from him ? Because
they remember full well that on former
occasions, when he has succeeded in
catching them, a series of blows from
somo heavy cudgel has been their re
ward. is there not some better way of
securing the good will of our herds and
in managing them os we wish ? There
is a hollow place on tho head of every
cow, just behind the junction of the
horns, which is oommonly full of dust,
short hairs and the like, causing tho
animal an itohing sensation. It is a
source of extreme pleasure to tho cow
to have the spot scratched, and sinoe
from its location the animal oannot reach
it, hence when her keeper approaches
her, either in tho stable or in tho past
ure, an era of good feeling may be es-
lished if due attention be paid to scratch
ing this hollow spot. If, at your first
approach, the cow is a little shy, offer
her from one hand a nubbin of corn,
while with the other hand you gently
scratch tlie particular spot in her head
mentioned above. In a very short time,
whenever yon go into pasture, the whole
herd will come to you to have their
heads scratched, and you will soon bo
satisfied that it is ns easy to have them
follow you as to resort to driving and
loud noise.—American Cultivator.
There is no better way to livo health
ily and happily than to cultivate a tem
perament wherein the most ceutradicto-
ry qualities and properties of the organ
ism are perfectly counterbalanced and
combined.
Fro kino pockets appears to be a favor
ite profession in Japan. Nearly 2,000
light-fingered gentry ply their trade in
I'okio alone, of whom over 200 are looked
upon as mftw^rs ^in, ifra an. : ~ - !-
CriiDDErw havp more peed of ihodeu
than ftf' rtrifclmswi. -
“ Tile topic of universal interest at
Washington,” telegraphs the Chicago
Tribune correspondent, “ has been the
discoveries of tho autopsy. However
excusable tho errors of diagnosis made
by the attending surgeons, it is none tho
less tme as a fact that they have treated
from the start in entire fSior
of the true ohoracter of the injury.
It is almost incredible that a group of
intelligent and experienced surgeons,
having a large familiarity with gunshot
wounds, should have gone on exploring,
cleansing and dressing a burrowing
abscess for oight or ten weeks, wliile tho
guushot wound which they were sup
posed to be treating was left entirely
alone to the curative powers of unas
sisted nature. From day to day we had
bulletins more or less explicitly stating
the vicissitudes of tho so-called wound.
Dr. Woodward was putting his
microscope onto the pus aud
taking photographs of the interesting
aspects thus brought to light. The
catheter was going up and down, now
four inches, now twelve, now only three
or four, and the wound was said to be
healing to suit. Tho granulations were
reported upon, and the nature of the
heuling, whether from the ball outward
or otherwise, wns discussed and an
nounced by the doctors in charge time
upon time and with great confidence.
The latest and most ingenious appliances
of science were brought into requisi
tion, and the location of the ball sup
posed to be ascertained with reasonable
certainty and accuracy. Dr. Bliss
claimed that the Bell experiments had
been entirely successful, and that they
had verified the united theory of the
doctors that the ball was located
in the iliac region. Its position was
stated in half and quarter inches, ex
cept that it did come out later than the
depth of tho ball from the surface was
not so nicely understood. And now it
appears that tlie ball was half way across
the body, in quite anotber direction,
and that the path of the bullet was al
most at right angles with tho long &b.
•cess which they were treating in its
stead. But the autopsy upsets more
than the doctors immediately concerned
in the case. In many particulars
makes the criticisms of outside physi.
cions as ridiculous as the statements of
those in oharge. For instance, many
claimed, with warmth, that the
ball was not cuoysted, and was
a constant source of irritation and
danger. Now it appears that the ball
was completed encysted aud the wound
practically healed. The great consola
tion in it all, and tho ono which will
protect tho doctors in charge from a
fierce howl of indignation all over the
world, is tho apparent certainty that the
wound as now understood was necessari
ly mortal. Hail it been simply in itself
a comparatively slight injury, and one
which, under prompt, intelligent and
correct treatment, could have been suc
cessfully coped with, one can hardly
conjecture tho effects of popular grief
aud rage. But it is evident that the
President was fated. Tho only wonder
is that he lived so long.”
Nathaniel Pack, in some reminis-
oencefl of the late Gen. Burnside, pub
lished in the Now York Tribune, relates
the following inoident of the disastrous
affair at Fredericksburg: “After the de
feat and tetreat of the army across the
river, I was sitting late at night in an
old house in Falmouth, writing ray ac
count of tho battle by the light of a tal
low candle, when, to my surprise, I saw
Gen. Burnside enter the room. He
looked like a man stunned and dazed.
Oblivious of my presence, he threw him
self upon a big, old-fashioned bed,
whioh, beside the table on which I was
writing, was the only piece of furniture
the room, and exclaimed: ‘My God,
what have I done! What a droadful
calamity ! What a terrible sacrifice of
life for no good 1’ For some minutes he
continued to groan and lament the dis
aster in broken ejaoulations. After a
while he became calmer, and seemed to
gradually realize where he waa. Sud
denly he rose from the bed and walked
out of the room without noticing me. I
never mentioned to him his strango noc
turnal visit to my quarters, and of course
said nothing of it in my correspondence.
He was no doubt half-crazed by grief
over the defeat at the time, but by the
next morning he had regained his sol
dierly dignity and oalm,”
A pleasant call—“ Come herp, Hilde
brand, my love.” said a fond New Haven
mother, as her spindle-legged youngster
appeared just inside the gate. “ Hilde
brand 1 I should say so. How oame you
to tie suoh a homely boy to suoh a high-
priced name?” asked a blunt-spoken
caller. “ He may be homely, but he’s
mine, thank yon. I didn't have to marry
a widower with four great overgrown
boys, as you did.” This treading on
corns, moaphorically, doesn't pay.—
New Haven Register.
A EBAVZLKB was lately killed on an
English railroad by his own portman
teau, whioh he had plaoed on the rook
abovp and opposite, and whioh in the
collision struck him with fatal foroe.
Student : What is political economy ?
Running on the same ticket with a very
rioh man who will pull you through.
Blockstone. 1
The man who ing
foolish, for he i
would all go to i
Water melon-olioly
small boy when the MjMrs dog!
him out of the patch.
A homely young girl has the console^
tion of knowing that, if she lives to be
40, she will be a pretty old girl.
I don’t like that cat; it’s got splin
ters in its feet,” wns the excuse of a 4-
year-old for throwing the Jutten away.
A little heat tl^at conMjjBe beat, the
window open vnfte ; a lifln breeze, a lit
tle sneeze, and you’re the doctor’s pride;
817.25 for ten visits.
An ambitions young writer having
asked “what magazine will give me
highestfioslhon quickest?” was told,
“A powder magazine, if you contribute
a fiery article.”
Carlyle, being once asked the differ
ence between a natural fool and an
educated fool, replied, “Just about tho
difference between you and me, I sus
pect.” The questioner was never able
to determine what kind of fool he was.
“ I saw a big boy and a little fellow
qunrrcjing over some marbles to-day,”
said John. “Did yon?” asked bis
father. “ I hope you interfered to stop
their quarreling.” “Yes, yes,” said
John, “I took the little fellow’s port.”
An old man, with a head as destitute
of hair as a watermelon, entered on Ana-
tin avenue drug store and told tho clerk
he wanted a bottle of hair restorer.
“ Wli&t kind of hair restorer do you
prefer?” “ I reckon I’U have to take a
bottle of red-hair restorer. That ■
the color of my hair whan I was a boy.”
—Texas Siftings.
hurry up, sia fc
DmimI, delay not,
Long have I waited:
Sighed for the coming
Of klaaaa balated;
Fragrant aa roaabuiUf
Pure aa the dew;
Dearest, delay not,
I'm waiting for you.
" Just keep your bottle of whisky in
your closet, and, when the girl brings
you your hot shaving-wpUxim the morn- ^ I
ing, you can mix y^ur toddjT quickVy^v^^^ *
aad not a soul will ko»w a thing ahofit
it,” said tho M. D. TttiKplah Worked
well until the old man’s daughter
thought he mast be going insane, 1>e-
causo he wanted to share five or six
times a day. • a ,k.
In some way a very erroneous U5a of
the Saginaw conflagration ,hfS£gt>ns
abroad. It is the idea of a ImrqjngTor- «
est. The fact is it was not a foreftl flrj
No conflagration in a forest of g
ber could have odvftqced with the v
ity of a hurricane moving attfie rate!
fifty miles an hour, as the Saginaw £
flagration did. A dozen years sgo i
greater part of the region was oovec
by pine forests, but forest fires in 18
killed nearly all the standing timber,
prostrated a large port of it, and the in
habitants subsequently cut down the re
mainder. The forests Mere thus tr§nfes
formed into “ slashiigs”—traote of
country covered with Mien pine tree*,,
which the drying heat Si ten sumraarA •
had rendered highly combustihflB
Among these extsuaijo “slashing^
many forms hod boon, established. A
correspondent of the ^Chicago jftfriest
who made a tout of inspeofftn
through the burnt regfrn, says that the
peninsula was occupied m every part Jjy
a thrifty population tint, sinde the great
forest fires of 1871, had “ transformed it
from ablaokoned was to to x prosperous^
region.” The freqne&t farms and villa-*
gee were ooraparabla to hHOotning c
in the prodigious jeild
“ slashings ” that sorrow
established the conation of their l
ruin by a conflagration without* *
lei in many of it# destroying j>b
ena. Three conditions combined to
tho “ boa of flame ” flti amazing veto
First, the highly combustible c
of tlie fullen timber; seoond,
growth of young 'pillar,
bushes, weeds and rushes
everywhere sprung up in
ings;” and, Tumi, a hu
wind, increu^l by tlie heat <
flagration. It was in the
meaning of the words a
flame, advancing with such /
velocity that nothing could
fury. A dense cloud of amok)
ing the whole earfc^ was 1
ing of its approaotu
ness of this olond
incessant flashes of |
farm-houses, villa®
the “ clearings” i
quickly surroun/
planation |of