Georgia Historic Newspapers

    W. N. BENNS, Editor and Proprietor.
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“LET THERE HE LIGHT.”
Subscription!
VOLUME IX.
BUTLER, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, OCTOBER 6, 1885.
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A HAYING SONG.
Over the meadow floats the mist,
Rolling softly away;
Up on the hills the sun has kissed,
Brightens the yellow day.
Faintest breath of the morning breeze
Shakes the dew from the orchard trees,
Sways the bough where robin is saying,
“Wake, oh, wake! it is time for haying!”
Cows are lowing in haste to try
Pastures moistened with dew;
Swallows twitter, and brown bees fly,
Scenting the blossoms new.
Meadow larks, out of sight, repeat,
Over and over, “Sweet, oh, Sweet!
Grass, and clover, and lilies blowing.
Round my nest like a forest growing.”
Through the meadows the mowers tread,
With a sturdy stroke and true;
And oh! for the lilies, so tall and red,
When the gleaming scythe sweeps through,
Balancing over the grasses light,
Dropping with laughter out of sight,
“Ho, ho, ho!” hear the blackbird singing.
“Give me a day when scythes are swing
ing.”
In fragrant furrows the grass is laid,
The golden sun climbs high;
The mowers sharpen the ringing blade,
And glance at the western sky.
Hark! the quail with his warning call
Whistles loud from the mossy wall,
“Mower whet!” while the sun is shining,
Storms may come when the day's de
clining.
—Emily Miller, in the Current.
AN EDITOR’S LUCK.
The editor of the Dorset Independent
sat in the back window of the editorial
rooms, looking rather despondent.
The Independent was six months old,
and the editor was beginning to think it
would never be much older.
People admired the enterprising young
editor, Eben Hill, who had come from
the next town with a hand press, and a
small and freckled assistant, and gone to
work so energetically; but people had
got along so far without a paper, and
they were inclined to think they could
do so still.
Subscriptions were not numerous, and
there was a disposition on the part of the
majority of the subscribers to pay in
wood or potatoes, or anything but
money, or not to pay at all.
The editor sat stroking his beardless
chin, and looking out of the window
gloomily.
He had grown very fond of sitting in
the back window, the reason being that
it looked directly into Mr. Strew’s back
yard, and that Virginia Strew sat there
almost every afternoon with her book or
eewing.
From meeting her eyes and smiling
occasionally, as he sat biting the end of
his pencil over the “Local Items” for the
next issue of the Independent, he had
grown into the habit of stepping from
the window and joining her on her
bench under the grapevines.
She was sitting there now, with her
head bent over her work and the folds
of her white dress falling softly about
her.
The editor coughed; Virginia looked
up and smiled; and the editor leaped
from the window with undignified
haste.
“Well,” said Virginia, laying down
her work as he sat down heside her,
“how are you getting along?”
“Badly!” said Eben, shaking his head.
“Two more subscriptions stopped—
John Burke, because I didn’t want to
take a bushel of beets, instead .of money
—beets! and Mr. Hewitt, because I for
got to mention the cucumber that he
‘laid on our desk.’ I’m afraid the Inde
pendent is going down hill.”
“Dear me!” said Virginia, sympa
thetically. “If your uncle would only
step in and help youl” she added,, wist
fully.
Eben’s uncle was another common
to pi a. He was rather mythical. All the i
editor knew about him was that he was
a well-to-do publisher somewhere in
Boston. I
But Virginia was fond of speculating
about him.
“A publisher, tool” she added, mus- I
ingly. “It would be exactly the tiring
for you 1”
“It would enable me—”
There was a rustle behind them. Vir
ginia held up a warning finger.
“It is the Grangers’ boarder,” she j
whispered. “He came this noon. He’s 1
been sitting in the yard all the afternoon,
looking over here—Mercy, here he is 1”
A head had projected itself above the
vines behind them, and a hand clutched |
at the branches.
“I beg your pardon 1” paid the person,
smoothly, “but I saw you come over.
Are you not the editor of—of the—”
“The Independent," said Eben, frig
idly. -
What right had this person to be look -
ing at Virginia all the afternoon, and
to thrust himself upon them in this
way?
“Oh, yes!” said tne stranger, blandly;
‘ ‘so I was told. I— In fact, I was anx.
ions to make your acquaintance 1”
The grapevine snapped; the head dis
appeared; there was a pain fully-suggest
ive jar.
Virginia peeped through a crack in
the fence.
“There’s a gate a little further down,”
she said, politely. “Won’t you corns
in?"
“You are extremely kind,” was tho
response, uttered in a grateful, apolo
getic way, which Eben could see had its
effect upon Virginia.
She went immediately to open the
gate.
Eben rose stiffly as they came toward
the bench together, and stood leaning
against the fence and frowning,
Virginia sat down upon the bench; the
interloper sat down heside her.
He was a tall, stout, rather florid young
man, with a face which the vast majori
ty would have pronoanced handsome.
But Eben promptly decided that he
had always disliked that style of good
looks.
“You are Mr. Hill, then?” said the
gentleman, suavely. “Yon see, I have
been studying the Independent.” In
deed, he held a copy of that enterpris
ing sheet in his hand. “I am in the
business myself, and am naturally inter
ested.”
He took a card from his pocket book
and gave it to Eben. “R. A. Coombs,
Boston,” was printed on it.
Eben did not respond.
He fancied that'Mr. Coombs’ refer
ence to the Independent had contained
something of sarcasm.
“Do..you find it difficult, running a
paper alone?” Mr. Coombs continued,
cheerfully. “I feel a professional inter
est, you see.”
“I have an assistant,” said Eben, cold
ly, with a grim smile, as the vision of
the assistant rose before him.
But he felt that the fellow must be put
down.
Of course he was not in the business;
he had wanted a closer look at Virginia,
and he had taken this way of getting it
Because he was a country editor, he had
thought it would be easy to impose upon
him.
And that it should have happened
then—just as he had plucked up courage
to speak his mind to Virginia!
He looked at Mr. Coombs witheringly,
with a growing bitterness of spirit.
“Indeed? A sub-editor?” 3aid Mr.
Coombs, politely. “If it would be con
venient,” he added, “I should like ex
tremely to go through the editorial
rooms. And perhaps the young lady
would accompany us?”
“Certainly,” said Virginia, promptly.
Eben stared at her.
So his smooth ways and his florid
good looks had captivated her already?
Perhaps it had been as well that his
avowal had been interrupted.
“I am sorry,” he said, savagely, “but
I can hardly spare the time at present.”
And he turned sharply and left them,
dropping Mr. Coombs’ card at a con
spicuous point as he went.
He stalked in at the front door of the
printing office, almost knocking down
the freckled assistant, who sat there
whittling, and straight to the back
window.
He could hear a steady murmur of
voices—Virginia’s soft tones, mingled
with Mr. Coombs’ deeper ones. Oc
casionally they both laughed in a highly-
amused away.
He straightened the shutter, and
looked through. There they were, sit
ting rather close together on the bench,
Mr. Coombs bending toward Virginia,
and Virginia smiling up into his face.
Three o’clock—4. The sound of their
voices ceased at last. He heard the lit
tle gate open and shut, and he heard
Virginia humming lightly as she tripped
into the house.
Well, of course that must settle it!
If she could, before his very eyes, en
courage the bold advances of this person
from Boston—who was undoubtedly an
imposter—if she could laugh and talk
with him, as he had believed she could
do with nobody but himself, there was
but one thing to conclude—that, for his
own peace of mind, he must give her up.
It was the last thing he would have
thought of Virginia; he had trusted her
completely, and he felt cast down in
proportion.
But he felt a rising hope, in spite of
his resolves, as he sat in his usual place,
the next afternoon, with his paper and
pencil.
He was trying to write up Lucilla
Brompton’s wedding for the next week’s
Independent. He had a list of the guests
before him, and a catalogue of the pres
ents, and a box of the cake on the table
beside him; and he was expected to get
them all in.
But he felt his mind wandering from
Lucilla Brompton’s triumphs to Virginia
Strew and her misdoings, and he stuck
his pencil behind his ear with a sigh.
Perhaps when she came out—she would
be sure to come out—well, perhaps every
thing might be right yet.
He heard a rustling among the grape
vines presently.
There she was, blowing the dust off
the bench and switching her skirts to
one side preparatory to sitting down.
She looked up, and smiled and bo we#;
and Eben sprang up, with his foot on
the window-sill—and stopped short.
For the little gate had opened with a
clii v and the tall form of Mr. Coombs
hact appeared in the act of bowing.
The editor sank back into his chair,
closed the blinds with a bang, and wrote
Lucilla Brompton’s notice with fierce
rapidity.
The week that followed was the most
wretched he had ever spent.
Mr. Coombs had gone away after a
day or two, and Eben had put a cut
ting local in the Independent to the ef
fect that a Mr. Coombs, of Boston, had
been “lighting our benighted village
with the inestimable glory of his pres
ence.”
He took a savage delight in this pro
duction, and he sent a marked copy to
Virginia.
He sat in the back window every day,
as usual, and every afternoon Virginia
sat on the bench, with her sewing.
She had looked toward the window at
first, and smiled with her customary
sweetness;’hut the editor had made no
response, and she had come gradually
to pay no attention to him.
Eben felt that his cup of misery was
full when, one\afternoon, about a week
after the jklvelpt of Mr. Coombs, Vir
ginia did not come into the garden. _
He walked up and down restlessly,
pausing frequently to look toward the
bench. She was sick, perhaps. And
might it not be that his neglect had
made her so.
The small assistant with his brimless
hat on the back of his head, and one
hand full of marbles, came in presently
with the maiL.
Eben’s mail was not usually heavy;
but to-day there were two letters.
He opened the top one. It was from
Squire Bailey. He wanted his subscrip
tion withdrawn. He had subscribed
for the Agricultural News, and he didn’t
want to take two papers. .
Eben threw it down with a sigh, and
took up the second.
It was a large, business like epistle,
with the name of the firm, which was
printed in one corner, effectually blotted
out by a thumb mark. The small assist
ant rarely washed his hands.
Eben tore it open. It was headed,
“Hill & Barton, Publishers.”
He glanced it over swiftly; then he
read it through slowly, the hand that
held it shaking with his eagerness; and
then he rushed to the back window.
Yes; there was a flutter of white
among the grape vines. She was there
at last.
He leaped from the window and flew
over to her side.
Virginia looked up from her work
with a smile, for all the world as though
nothing had happened.
“Read that!” said Eben, excitedly,
tossing the letter into her lap. “From
my uncle at last I”
It did not occur to him that, in view
of the events of the last week, Virginia
might no longer take an interest in him
self or his good fortune.
But she took up the letter quietly and
read it through, without any appearance
of emotion.
“It is very nice,” she said, taking up
her work and moving away from a cater
pillar on the edge of the bench. “Iam
very glad 1”
“Good gracious!” said Eben, sitting
down before her—and it did not seem in
the least as though he had not sat there
for a week—“it is one of the best places
in the house that he offers me. Just
look at the salary! And see here,” ho
added, in a subdued way, pointing to a
signature at the bottom of the page—
“ ‘Per Coombs.’ That means he wrote it
for him. Was that—could that have
been the fellow, Virginia?”
Virginia smiled composedly.
“It was,” she said, sweetly. “He is
one of the employes. He told me all
about it that first day. He is a relative
of the Crangers, and he was out here for
his vacation; and the senior partner of
the firm told him that if he came across
his nephew out here anywhere, he might
let him know. But if it hadn’t been for
me, he never would have let him know,
Why, he didn’t know what to think of
you.”
“But you did!” said Eben, edging a
little closer to her on the bench.
That her answer was satisfactory may
be concluded from the fact that when
the editor went away, some two hours
later, he had put the unpretentious ring
that ho wore upon the third finger of
Virginia’s left hand.
The Dorset Independent came to an un
timely end shortly after.
But the very first letter which the ex
editor wrote to his fiance from Boston
obtained the following postscript:
“Coombs seems to be a nice enough
fellow, but I have taken particular pains
to let him know that we are engaged.”—
Emma A. O.iper, in Saturday Night.
The Four Great Moseses.
Moses, the son of Amram, he who has
brought the children of Israel out of
Egypt; who broke the chains of slavery;
our great law-giver was our first great
Moses.
Moses ben Maiman, known as Mai-
monidcs, who lived in the twelfth
century, a scientific investigator: a
writer of philosophic works; a student
of medicine, and rich in Talmudical
learning; he was our second great
Moses.
Moses Mendelssohn, born in 1729, a
modern thinker and pursuer of the phi
losophy of the former, who was full of
Jewish piety, and yet succeeded to raise
the social elevation of his Jewish breth
ren ; he was our third great Moses.
Moses Montefiore, whose death we
now mourn, who was principally known
for his unbounded love for all mankind,
but most particularly for his unlimited
Philanthropy toward his coreligionists;
he put into practice the teachings of his
three great predecessors, and was our
fourth great Moses.—Hebrew Journal.
Cocaine.
It is a native of South America, and
has been used by the Peruvians and other
South American peoples from before the
dawn of history. Its leaves are chewed,
being first prepared with lime and made
into small boluses, which are used when
the native is traveling and desirous of
conserving his strength. A second use
is for the purpose of producing intoxica
tion, tho leaves in this case being chewed
without any admixture of foreign sub
stances. The third use being of the
leaves as a substitute for tobacco, when
they are smoked. It was also extensively
used by the Indians in their religious
rites, a practice which the Catholic
clergy did all they could to break up,
believing that the leaves were hurtful.
The alkaloid was first extracted by
Gamecke in 1355, and two years later 8.
R. Percy presented some of it to the
New York Academy of Medicine, calling
attention to the fact that it could tem
porarily paralyze the tongue.—American
Journal of Medical Science,
DROWNING BATHERS.
How to Bncu« Item-All Interview
with a Coney Island Ufe-Saver.
“Presence of mind is the first thing
needed in saving a person from drown
ing,” said William Johnson, a liie-saver
at the iron pier, to a reporter for the
Brooklyn Union.
“Bat what good would presence of
mind do in mi the drowning person
grappled with you, as was the case with
the girls at Clinton Point the other day?”
said the reporter.
“Yon have to adopt a heroic remedy
1ft a case like that*!? said Mr. Johnson.
“If a person struggled with me in the
water I would strike him so as to make
him helpless, If he caught me about the
arms, I would, as I have done, butt him
with my head until he released me. He
would do it almost instinctively. The
first thing in rescuing a person is to be
able to seize him proDerly. He should
be taken at arm's length, so that in his
struggles he may not impede you.”
“Don’t drowning persons give them
selves up readily?”
“No: that’s the strangest part of it.
They nearly all struggle with you as if
they thought you were trying to drown
them. I remember one big man who
was unable to help himself and was rap
idly drowning"! I. went to his rescue,
and he actually fought with me so that
1 had to knock him senseless to save his
life
“Do drunken men go in the water fre
quently?”
“They wouldn’t naturally be allowed
"n the water if their condition was known.
The truth is that they may be apparently
perfectly sober when they start in, and
the motion of the water will render them
dizzy. A little salt water is sure to be
swal’owed by the man, and it will help
send the fumes to his head. Another
thing is that the bather ordinarily con
tents himself with ducking his head un
der the water once or twice and then
letting the sun pour on it, while the
lower part of his body is cool. This
naturally draws the blood to the brain
and helps the liquor to do its work.
People often bend their heads to the
breakers and let them pound upon them
until I should think they’d split their
skulls. I wonder there are not more
c::sos of brain-concussion. In fact, most
people drink before going in the water
instead of after coming out, and meet
the breakers in the worst possible way.
Water is the easiest to divide but the
hardest to resist. Present an angle of
your body to it and there is no trouble.
Otherwise there is always danger.”
“If a person goes under water, do you
wait for him to come up again?”
“No. sir. It i3 an old and supersti
tious idea that a person must come to the
surface three times before he drowns.
The truth is, he might come up half a
dozen times, or he might not come up
at all, according as he struggled or as
his lungs became filled with water. I
am always in condition for swimming,
and as soon as any one goes under water
I notice the condition of the tide and
jump in after him. I have found several
lying on the bottom who would have
drowned if I had waited for their reap*
pearance.
“After you bring them in how would
you restore them?”
“In the first place they should be
brought in face downward, and then laid
upon their faces, so that their heads are
lower than the nether parts of their
bodies, and the water they may have
swallowed can go out. There need be
no rough action to secure this result. In
fact, the rolling of a person over a bar
rel, or other rough exercise, might be
the means of killing them.”
“That will not induce respiration?”
“Oh, no. To bring back the breath
they must be placed in a reclining posi
tion, the arms thrown back and then
each successively thrown across the
breast, which should be pressed in. This
might be continued for an hour or more
with good result. In fact, lives have
been lost because people gave up too
quick. Human lives are worth hours of
work. At least I think so.”
“Does the application of brandy do
good as a restorative?”
“If applied to the extremities, yes;
but when forced into a person’s mouth,
no. A drowning man wants all the room
he can get for breath. If you lie on
your back half conscious and struggling
for breath, you can see for yourself how
your palate would close your throat and
nothing could get into it. You would
choke aud die, and I don’t doubt deaths
have been caused this very way. ”
“Does over eating cause cramps?”
“Not at all. Overeating causes apo
plexy. Cramps are usually caused by
the excessive and unusual use of the
limbs. Have you ever put your arm or
leg to a sudden strain which has con
tracted the muscles? That is what, gives
a swimmer a cramp. Men who are good
swimmers, but who do not swim often, are
the ones who are caught with a cramp,
more often in the leg, because the motion
of swimming is an unusual one. When
they get the cramp they lose their pres
ence of mind and give themselves up.
The right way to do !b for them, instead
of giving up, to gradually let the limb
out so that the sinew may get its normal
tension, and then they will come out all
right. They can float easily if they only
try, and put themselves out of danger.
I was attacked with a cramp in my right
leg while bathing in Seneca lake at a
part which was unfathomable. For a
second I lost my presence of mind, but
it was a matter of life and death, and
while I held myself up with my hands I
gradually accustomed my leg to its nor-,
m»l position."
“i these any other source of d$pgerl”
“Yes, the habit of diving. It is easy
to dive in the shallowest water if a swim
mer will only spread out the palms of his
hands as soon as he enters the water
This changes his course upward in an
instant. I have seen men break their necks
by diving from a distance of six feet above
the waters without changing the position
of their hands when beneath the surface.
Fd like to emphasize the need of prompt
ness in rescuing people who have gone
down under water. Don’t wait for them
to reappear, and don’t be afraid of what
they might do. A good swimmer always
has the best of it, if he keeps a clear
head. Then do not carry drowning per
sons face up. Always carry them face
down, so any water they may have swal
lowed shall run out of the mouth, and
after natural breathing has returned, and
not till then, should they be given re
storatives. I came near getting in a
fight for suggesting this in the case of a
young woman at a neighboring bathing
place, but I carried my point, and, I
think, saved her life.”
Mr. Johnson is a practical exponent of
his theory of life-saving. He has saved
thirty persons from drowning since he
has been at Coney Island. He is about
twenty-five years old, has the figure of a
perfect athlete, and in the winter serves
as a model for artists who study from
life.
Coniiments anil Indigestion.
Cayenne pepper may be selected as a
typical example of a condiment properly
so called. Mustard is a food and condi
ment combined; this is the case with
some others. Curry powdeTS are mix
tures of very potent condiments with
more or less of farinaceous materials and
sulphur of compounds, which, like the
oil of mustard, onions, garlic, etc., may
have a certain amount of nutritive value.
The mere condiment is a stimulating
drug that does its work directly upon
the inner lining of the stomach, by ex
citing it to increased and abnormal ac
tivity. A dyspeptic may obtain imme
diate relief by using cayenne pepper-
Among the advertised patent medicines,
is a pill beaiii.g the very ominous name
of its compounder, the active constitu
ent of which is cayenne. Great relief
and temporary comfort are commonly ob
tained by using it as a “dinner pill.”
If thus used only as a temporary rem
edy for an acute and temporary, or ex
ceptional attack of indigestion, all ia.
well, but the cayenne, whether taken- iq
pills or dusted over the food, or stewed
with it in curries or otherwise, is one of
the most cruel of slow poisons when
taken habitually. Thousands of poor
wretches are crawling miserably toward
their graves, the victims of the multi,
tude of maladies of both mind and body
that are connected with chronic, incura*
ble dyspepsia, all brought about by the
habitual use of cayenne and its condi.
mental cousins.
The usual history of these victims la
thit they began by overfeeding, took the
condiment to force the stomach to do
more than its healthful amount of work,
using but a little at first. Then the
stomach became tolerant of this little,
and demanded more; then more, and
more, and more, until at last inflamma
tion, ulceration, torpidity, and finally
the death of the digestive powers, ac
companied with all that long train of
miseries to which I have referred.-*-
Wild Beasts in India.
It is startling to read in official returns
that more than twenty-five thousand per
sons are annually destroyed in British
India by wild beasts. The tiger alone,
in 1883, killed 985 people, besides 4,000
cattle.
Venomous serpents destroy immense
numbers of wayfarers. Owing to the
heat of the climate, poor persons travel
mostly by night, and walk barefooted
or wear only a sandal that does not pro
tect the ankles. The deadly cobra is
seldom active in the daytime, but he
may be trodden upon in the darkness by
uncovered feet. He at tacks the traveler,
who is found in the morning dead upon
the road.
Often the shortest path between two'
villages lies through a jungle, where in
the daytime the heat will rise to 1G0 un
der the blazing sun of India. The temp
tation to defer the journey until after
sunset is to most natives irresistible, and
in the tropics darkness quickly follows
the departure of the sun. The natives
walk in Indian file in the narrow track,
and a loiterer fa Is an easy prey to a
tiger crouching in ambush.
In many purls of India, despite the ut
most- efforts of the government, wild
beasts render life hard indeed to the
people, for one pair of full-grown tigers
with cubs will destroy from four to six
bullocks each week. Often in pure
wuntorness, a tiger will kill two or three
cattle when he wants only a small part
of one. A family of tigers will kill in a
week more animals than a family of
farmers can cabin a year.
The panther *aud the leopard are algo
terrible cattle-eaters, and the leopard
has a particular habit of carrying off the
dogs which are expected to guard the
herd from his attacks. The Indian wolf
is noted for his audacity in seizing chil-,
dren. In India animals have a charac
ter of ferocity which makes auman. life
in some districts well-nigh insup,port-
able.— Youth's Campanion.
It has been dec!
who throws k:
ungentlemai
He shpuli
them
POPULAR SCIENCE.
It is believed the deepest water on the
globe has been lound in the Pacific
ocean. English scientific explorers have
dropped the sounding line 4,575 fath
oms, about five and one-fifth miles. The
American steamer Tuscavora sounded
4,600 fathoms cast of Japan.
Drs. Kleiber and Keller, of St. Pe'ers-
burg, have been studying tho increase of
the earth’s mass from the addition of
meteors drawn from space. They have
calculated that about 430,000 meteors
fall on the surface of the earth each hour,
and that the weight of the foreign ma
terial thus added must be as much as
4,960 pounds hourly, or nearly sixty tons
daily.
A French anthropologist has been com
paring skulls of men distinguished for
uprightness and wisdom with skulls of
assassins (sixty-five samples) and of sav
ages. He finds a constant difference in
the profile of the forehead. Among dis
tinguished persons the anterior cranial
portions are the best developed, while
among savages and assassins the racial
and posterior projections exceed the
others.
The Glasgow Philosophical society
has demonstrated that at about 122 de
grees below zero, Fahrenheit, the flesh
of animals becomes so hard as to ring
like porcelain when struck, aud also to
be capable of being crashed to a fine
powder. Microbes, however, living in
the flesh before freezing have been
found alive when thawing took place,
after an exposure of two hundred hours
to this intense cold.
Stanley, the American explorer, be
lieves equatorial Africa to be habitable
for Europeans, and that, with due at
tention to diet and an occasional holiday
change, they may long retain their full
vigor in the Congo country. On the
other hand, Fischer, a German traveler,
regards Central Africa as entirely up
for Europeans at lower levels than/ 90
feet, and even at that altitude ssalaria
nlust be expected on rich land.
By exhaustive investigation the Ger
man Anthropological society has found
that rather more than one-fourth of the
school children of Central Europe are
pure blondes, and about one-sixth are
brunettes, more than one-half being of
the mixed type. In Germany 31.80 per
cent, of the children are fair, and 14.05
per cent, arc dark; in Austria the dark
predominate, being 23.17 per cent.,while
the fair amount only to 19.79; in Switz
erland the blondes are only 11.10 per
cent., while the brunettes are 25.70; and
in Belgium the blondes are 27.30 per
cent. The proportion of dark children
in Germany increases rapidly toward llie
south, and that of light children tow ird
the north. This varying distribution of
fair and dark complexion forms the
basis of speculations concerning the
early colonization of Germany.
An Incident In Grant’s Career.
General Thomas S. Dockery tells sn in'
cident in the career of the dead com
mander indicative of General G#mt‘s
feeling and sympathy for vfj one in
trouble, whether friend ortinemy. On
July 5, 1863, after the victorious general
had conquered Vicksburg, a sweet-faced
woman, whose features showed that ehe
was suffering, much anxiety of mind,
made her way after some difficulty to
General Grant’s tent. She said she was
Mrs. Dockery, wife of General Dockery,
who was then a prisoner of war in Vicks
burg. The lady desired to know whether
her husband was dead, dying or in good
health, and wished a pass to enter the
city. This pass could not be given, but
General Grant hastily penned a letter to
General Pemberton, who had charge of
the prisoners of war within the city,
asking for immediate information con
cerning General Dockery. During tho
messenger’s absence Mrs, Dockery tr.ey
completely oraresase by her anxiety for
her husband’s fate, and wept bitterly.
General Grant, although his tent was
crowded with generals and aides, turned
his attentiuntc the weeping woman, and
in the tendeieet manner possible at
tempted to console her with bright hopes
that her huabaid was alive and well.
When the mesienger returned with the
intelligence that General Dockery was
alive aud would soon join his wife, the
brave commander was apparently as
happy over the joyful information a9
was the faithful wife. He heartily con
gratulated her, and then wrote a pass
for herself and a Mr. Wright, who ac
companied her safely through the Union
lines. For the gentle and feeling man
ner in which General Grant treated her,
Mrs. Dockery has never ceased to bless
the brave man who to-day will be laid la
his last resting place.—New Yndc World
~ To Be Wise.
If you want to know What a i
Should be—ask some one who i
or preached one. /
If you want Ip
hotel, ask someone
keep one.
If you want to .
goods store, ask some oi
to tell the diffej
satinett.
If you want to know I
steamboat, ask f
you the diffe
and a rudder post.
THE ART OF EMBALMING.
The Modern jprocesi ot Preserving
Dead Bodies.
Two men sat silent in a handsomely
furnished store on a leading New York
thoroughfare. A small portion of the
furniture and ornaments pertained to the
living, the remainder to the dead. It
was an undertaker’s establishment, and
the younger but more solemn person was
a professional embalmer. In answer to
the reporter’s questions, he said:
“General Grant’s embalming was work
of the finest kind, something to be
proud of. It was done by the leader of
our profession, and with the best ma
terials in the market. There are many
mortuary directers who profess to be em-
balmcrs, and who know a smattering of
the art, but they are unworthy the
name. Real embalmers arc few in num
ber, there not being more than ten in
tne entire country. To be one an under
taker must have a sufficient knowledge
of surgery, medicine, and chemistry, and
must also have considerable artistic
sense. This makes a rare combination.
“The chief element in embalming
consists in removing a large portion of
blood from the body and substituting
therefore some powerful antiseptic fluid.
Many experiments have been made in re
spect to these liquids. I can hardly re
call how many preparations have been
tried. Brine, salicylic acid, diluted
creosote, solutions of sulphate of zinc,
and the iodide and chloride of that
tnetal. You see, the fluid used must be
nearly colorless, or else verging on
blood color, and must not cause dis
coloration. This precludes the use of
salts of copper, iron, manganese,and chro
mium, and also of compound of sulphur.
“A solution of chloride of zinc was at
one time in vogue, but in several in
stances it produced a ghastly bluish
tinge, and so went entirely out of fash
ion. The so-called Egyptian fluid was
a standard preparation for years. It was
so named by its manufacturer, who
claimed that it was the same liquid as
was used in preparing the mummies of
Egypt. It was improved upon, how
ever, by some American chemists, who
now have a practical;monopoly in sup
plying embalmers with the fluid. Their
manufacture is styled the Oriental fluid,
and is made in Boston.
“In embalming, a large vein and large
artery are opened, and a small force
pump, connected with a vessel i contain
ing the antiseptic fluid, is applied. The
process requires from two to four hours.
The natural movement of the circula
tion is followed. As the fluid enters
the blood vessels the blood is forced
out. The longer the time the better the
result. A short time enables the opera
tor to remove the blood 'from only the
larger vessels. In a longer period the
fluid passes from the larger to the smaller
vessels, and into the capillaries. This
distends the skin and produces a life
like appearance.
“The cost of thejproceas is from $15
upward- EttfBaimlng grows??,ire iKMu»
jfH6n every year. In the past thirty
months our establishment has embalmed
about 200 subjects. We arc still be
hind the ancients in our work. In the
main, a subject well treated will last
three years. This is a fair average. It
would be larger if it were not for
occasional cases in which the antisep
tic liquids seem to lose their efficiency.
There is, however, adistinguished chem
ist in Italy who claims to petrify a sub
ject by using some silicate preparation.
Though I have not seen the process em
ployed, yet I have been shown speci
mens which resembled petrifactions.
“A second duty of the embalmer is
the same as that of an undertaker, to
make the subject as life-like and natural
as poseible. There is a division in the
profession^ Jtfsie point Sio-.e endeavor
by art almost all the cu~.„„ ter .
Lacs of life; others merely endeavor , 0
remove the disagreeable insignia ®#dea th-
As for myself, I think proper to. e
the marks of wounds, accidents
ease. No art can take away the
of death. Its excess makes
more terrible by contrast. -
‘The embalmer runs the risk of
ease and blood poisoning. A sal
once preserved and treated is innocuous;
but in the process the germs of the dis
ease from which h e died are expel led in vast
numbers in the Wood. The operator in
such cases al " 1
tagion and
is as apt to
the surgeon. The
however, can be
who
of con-
poisoning
ir as to
these cases,
iinst. Those
out of ten
;ors, who call
when they are not.”
ris Amusement.
amusement of Dom Pedro
IL, jft Brazil, is to leave his gorgeous
turnout in a side street, and, accompa-
jried by a gray-haired chamberlain and a
stalwart lifeguardsman, walk the dis
tance of a square or more to a manufac
tory or other establishment and surprise
‘ the proprietor and employees by his snd-
den and unannounced appearance among
them. Of course he is given the liberty
of the establishment, and he takes his
time in examining the machinery and
modus operandi. With a kind word of
encouragement and commendation, he
goes away, perhaps to pay a similar visit
to another establishment. These visits
he' makes impartially to the mechanical
and mercantile establishments, controlled'
by foreigners as well as natives.
Herald.
The;
her fatherl
If a mai
weather 1
Boston
“My i
will be
marry 11
Ijjtvo mays
prevent spoonj
each other’s 1
Siftings.df-
Bismarck
since 1879.
pounds, he v
thirty years Ion
The Boston?
English editoa
“Will Americ
to the war stor
grandfather.
Naval officer^
their wives wit!
The policy of
foreign countrid
Courier-Journal
An exchang
of a railroad !
Those we lral
older, but appl
Marathon Indep
You will i
the face of himl
look of one wild
cil, and is momei]
will not be
script.
Beauty is not
alar rank in life,
but we want some'd
young lady with a ]
right who hasn’t
Hirer Advance.
One of the greatest^
lerving spectator who v
aters playing Copenhagen j
jubilee yesterday was toJ
girls who fought so hard
kissed played the
didn’t have to.—Pittsburg
Rather equivocal—G
late in arriving at a soireej
by a prominent Austin la
strived he immediately
ence, and having found !
beg a thousand pardons fd
late.” “My dear sir,” replj
“you eta never come too 1
thinks this is a hint to stsy^
gether.—Siftings.
Life in Chili.
There is a new hotel in Santiago, the
capital of Chili, which is about com-/
pleted now at a cost of nearly a million
dollars, and is by far the finest in Soufn
America. In tip, pmeiiL. and ss-r^i m
it is as gootl^as any in New York, and
• the $5,000 a year cook will give you as
good- ■ a dinner as Delmonico. The''"
markets of Chili, too, are better than
,-those of other South American countries.
The beef, mutton and other meats have
the flavor which is only found in a tem
perate climate; the fish are not so rank
and course n3 those caught in tropical
waters, and while vegetation is not so
prolific the fruits of the earth have a
finer fla or. You can find oysters here
equal to those of New Orleans or Mobile,
clams and lobster^, and plenty of beautL
ful shrimps called “camerons.” ■ ■
The people claim that fires are nn-
healthful, that they cause disease, and
yet during the winter season colds are
epidemic, pneumonia and kindred com-
dred complaints rage, and the mortality
from consumption is always very large.
They wear the thickest sort of under
clothing indoors and out, and sit shiver
ing the whole winter through for fear a
Are would poison the atmosphere. A
man never takes off his overcoat when ho
enters his house, but if he has "been ex-
ercising generally puts on a thicker ong
e ladies wear furs in their parion^f|
liy in curiously made muffs of Uamu
It looked very odd the other
evening at a fashRmahte dinner party to
ladies in full toilet, with low-necked
and short sleeved dresses, wearing fur •
lined mantles to the dinner table, an',
poking their slippered feet into the mu!
that had been placed in rows before the"
chairs.
The Chillanos are the Irishmen r.I
South America, quick, keen, witty, i"”
pulsive and reckless. They will fight r.
the drop of tho hat, with anybody, fc
any.cause and against any odds, and or £
always anxious for somebody to step r
the tails of their coats.
Their wit is proverbial, and is
marked as their recklessness,
the only country in South
where comic papers
these contain cartoons
that would do credit to any <
Chicago Inter-Ocean.
A Remarkable
Among the flints of the
tioDS is occasionally. found one wide! 1,
emits a clear musical Sound when struc’
wiih another flint. Tissandier tells of r.
distioquished French musician, B.
, laud re, who is a zealous collector -of
these musical stones, and who has just ^
succeeded in making a unique “piano’J
from them. In this instrument the flq
are suspended by wires above
ing-board, and are played upon
other flints. The stones of the
number twent;
\