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ANDERSON & WALLIS, Proprietors
—• -
The Night Is SI ill.
The nfebt is still, the moon looks kind,
The daw hangs jewels in the heath,
Art iry (limbs Across thy blind
And throws tt light abet misty wreath;
T’lio dew bangs jewels in iho heath,
Dads bloom for which the bee 1ms pined;
1 hnsto along, I quicker oreathe,
The night is Mill, the memo looks kind.
linds bloom for wtTch the bee has pined,
The primrose slips its jealous sheath,
As Up the flower-watched path I wind
And come thj window-ledge beneath,
Tlic p imrose slips its jealous sheath—
Tiien open wide that C,bullish blind,
And kiss me through the ivy wreath !
The night is still, (he moon looks kind.
—Etiith M. Thomas in the Century.
THE WHITE PHANTOM.
Major ,J Mirtltt Hill, a “hold dragoon"
1„ service »f hi, Majesty Georg.
Ill, found himself, one dark and blue.
tering night in autumn, riding toward
London on the old York road. He
hklsuppcMwiihalriend " who lived at
vi lage , some distance off m the road, ,
a
and he was unfamiliar f ... with ..... the coun
trv.
riiough not raining, the air was
damn, and the heavy, surcharged
clouds threatened every moment to
pour down their contents. A good
horseman cares as much for the com
foLb-of his steed as for Ins ovvu ease.
To add to the discomfort of tho even
ing, there was some chance of meet¬
ing highwaymen; but Major Hill felt
no uneasiness on that score, as, just
before leaving his friend’s house, he
had examined his holster pistols, and
freshly primed them. A brush with
a highwayman would enhance the
romance of a night journey.
The Major's horse began to give un¬
mistakable evidence of distress, stumb¬
ling once or twice, and recovering
himself with difficulty. At last a dim
light suddenly appeared at a turn of
the road. The horse pricked up hi3
ears, trotted forward with spirit, soon
halted , beside , a one-story cottage. The j
Major rode up to the door aud rapped
;
loudly with the butt of his whip. !
The summons brought a sleepy cotter
to the door.
My good friend, II said the Major,
can you tell me how far it is to tho
next inn r :
“Eh ? It be about zeven mile, zttr,”
was the answer, in the broad York¬
shire dialect of the district.
“Seven miles!” exclaimed the Major,
in a tone of deep disappointment; “and
iny horse is already blown! My good
fellow, can’t you put him somewhere,
and give me a bed ? I w’ill pay you
liberally for your trouble.”
“Eh! goodness sakesl” said the rus¬
tic. “1 be nought but a ditcher.
-
There be noa plaze 1 to put 1 the nag in, .
and there be only one room and , one
U 1 "
“U „. hat shall I . do? , „„ cried . . the .. Major, ,, .
' uimT'n 8 < ni ’
111 tell ’ ee, zur, » said ii. the rustic.
I here be a vome large house on the |
road, about a moile vurther on. It’s
noa an lnn ’ but the Colonel zee9 com * I
pany vor the vun o’ the thing-’cause
heloikes to zee company about ’un.
You must a heard ov him-Colonel
Lawrence-as used to be a soger once.”
“Say no more,” cried the Major. “I
have heard of this hospitable gentle
man, and his having been in the army
gives me a sure claim to Ins attention.
Here’s a crown for your information,
my good friend.”
The Major rode off, feeling an exhil
aration of spirits which soon comu.u
nicated itself to the horse. A sharp
tr t of . a few . minutes ... brought him to
a large mansion, which stood by the
Sled the larg^SL^torTill l
servant in livery made his appearance.
“Is your master un?” P asked the
Major.
“I am the occupant of this house,’
said a venerable gentleman, making
his appearance at the hall door.
“I am a benighted traveler, sir,”
said the Major, touching his hat, “and
come to claim your well-known hospi
tality. Gan you give me a bed for
the night?”
“I bed, sir, ’
cannot promise you a
said the host, “for I have but one
spare bed in the bouse, and that, hap
pons to bo in a room that does not j
enjoy a very pleasing reputation, In
short, sir, one room of mv house Is
haunted, aud that is the otuy one, un- j
fortunately, that 1 can place at your
disposal to-night.”
“My dear sir,” said the Major,
springing from his horse and tossing
the bridle to the servant, “you en¬
chant me beyond expression! A
haunted chamber! The very thing—
and I, who have never seen a ghost.
What luck!”
The Colonel shook his head gravely.
‘‘I never knew a man,” he said, “to
pass a night, in that chamber without
regretting it,”
Major Hill laughed as he toon his
pistols from the bolster pipes, •With
these frieftils of mine,” he said, I
fear d »>
neither t. r
®he ComtiMon Star ♦
Colonel Lawrence showed his guest
into a comfortable parlor, where
sea-coal fire a
was burning cheerfully in
a grate; and refreshments most wel¬
come to a weary traveler stobd upon
table. a
The Major’s attention was drawn
toward a charming girl of twenty, the
daughter of the Colonel, who graced
the table with her presence. Never,
he thought, had he seen so beautiful,
so modest and so lady-like a creature;
and she, in turn, seemed very favor¬
ably impressed with the manly beauty
and frank manners of their military
guest.
At length she retired. The Colonel
\ , o had found
a listener, was inclin
mal?, J ' ’’""’h. i '“° lm d.
| ** n that “ hi V T " *****
„ Jj!?“ a , ““ "*
Maior Hill ,S ’ " P " M 1" . the
S<»Uema„.
taking up a silver candlestick, cere
momously marshaled . , , his .. guest to a
lfU . ge> old-fashioned room.
A comfortable bed invited to re
pose; a cheerful fire was blazing on
tbo j] eartb) and everything was cozv
and qulet The Major looked around
'
hifu with a si h of satisfaction i
„ r am deepl indM to * C() , j
’ !
onel> .- said h „ for affordini
.
comfortable quarters ' I shall sleen P
like a top.”
“I am afraid not,” answered the
Colonel, with a grave shake of the
head. “1 never knew a guest ot mine
to pass a quiet night in this chamber.”
“I shall prove an “But^I exception” said
the Major, smiling; must mAke
one remark,” he added, eertously. "It
IS ill sporting with the feelings of a
soldier; and should any of your ser
vants attempt to play tricks upon me,
they shall have occasion to repent it.”
And he laid his heavy pistols on
the light-stand by his bedside.
My servants, Major Hill,” said the
oW geht!ernan , with an air of offended
di nityt „ ar0 t00 well drilled to dar9
i attempt any tricks upon my guests.
Good night, Major.”
"Good night, Colonel.”
The door dosed. Major Hill locked
it.
Beside tne aoor opening mio tne
entry, ther8 was another leading to
some other room. There was no lock
upon the second door, but a heavy
table placed across completely barri¬
caded it.
He threw himself into an arm-chair
before the fire, and amused himself
with building castles in the air, and
musing on the attractions of the fair j
Laura, the host’s daughter. He was j
far . enough “ . from , thinking ... ,. of e spectral . ,
visitants, . .. when . a very „ „ slight „ noise
struck , , on , his . ear. Glancing in the ,
direction of the inner door he thought
the heavy table glide back .
ward from its place. Quick as thought
h ht i8to i and challenged
the lntrudpr _ Xhere wa8 no reply
^ thjj door continued t0 open and
the table to slide back. At last there
* into the room a ta ll, graceful
obed in white .
th|} first g , ance the blood curdled |
ln ihe Majoi , g vein8 . at the seco nd he
uized the daitshter 0 f the host,
* ~ and ad¬
H vps W(>re wide ope n, she
wHh , m assured ste p; but it
^ ev j dent that she was asleep.
^ wag th# mysfery 0 f the White
rhantom solved at once. The young
walkpd to the firc . plrtce H nd seat
^ herself in the arm . c hair from which !
the soldier ... , had > just ; risen. r j sen
ghe raised her m hand, and gazing
on a beautiful ring that adorned one ]
^ a n'a'ttitude of repose, her arms !
drooping , . list --s .... y 1)V y hp r side "and
The Major app . her stole i
’ll not" j Ms action
distur e 1,1 1 awaken her.
.
She seemed to miss however ’j
and after groping ■ ";
rose and gibe t rung 1 „,r\vav
.
silently as she had entered. s
as Major
had no sooner retired than the 1
replaced the table, and drawing a j
heavy clothes press against it, effect u
guarded himself against a second
j ntrU8 j on .
T1)jg done> be threw himself upon
the bed, and slept soundly till a late
)t0ur 0 f tbB morning, After perform
, [ig the duties of his toilet, he was
su nimoned to breakfast, daughter. where he met |
the Colonel and his
Well, Major, and how did yon pass
the night: •j” asked the Colonel, anx
innsiv *4 slept
• Famously,” replied Hill.
like a top, as I told you 1 should.
“Then, thank heaven, the spell is
broken at last,” said the vanished. Colonel;‘^nd
the White Phantom has
«By no means. ” said the Major,
■iniling- “the White Phantom j >aitl me
a visit 'S ias„ a s‘ ni"ht. anil left me a token
of the honor.” the father
••A token!’ exi •mimed
and daughter iD a breath.
COVINGTON, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 21, 1885.
“Yes, my friends, and here it is.”
And the Major handed the ring to the
old gentleman.
“What's the meaning of this,
Laura?’’ exclaimed the Colonel “This
Hug I gave you last week.’’ '
Laura uttered a faint cry, and turn¬
ed deadly pale.
“The mystery is easily explained, ,
said the major. “The young lady is a
sleep-walker. She came into my room
before I had retired, utterly uncon
scions of her actions. I took the ring
from her hand, that 1 might be able to
convince you and her of the reality of
what I had witnessed.’’
Th e major’s business was hot press
| ing, and he readily yielded to the col-
1 T* r6 T“ “
I oaja .1 him. Iheir mutual
! **" t
, .”* s r'ng. “ inscribed V W " k ' the with 1 ' h
the names
; of Merrill K,U and Laura Lawrence,
served as a sacred symbol of their
union for life
A Turnip Story.
A farmer was once told that his tur
nip ileld had been robbed * antl lh “t
the ™'^ery had been committed by a
poor ’ icoffensiv e man, by the n me of
Calmer, who many of the people in
the village said had taken away a wag
on-load of turnips.
Farmer Brown much exasperated
by the loss of his turnips, determined
to prosecute poor Palmer with all the
8ever ity of the law. With this in ten
tion he went to Mollie Sanders, the
washerwoman, who had been busy in
s P readm g th e report, to know the
«“*>- but Mollie deni,. e„,
“ b “ 1 *
that Palmer ' ,^L^ hL tX-n h!d ^ Ty
r Iodgon " tf ^“'^’ f d . 80
overa ov ® aad dov ovel a « dln ’.
The farmer, hearing this, went to
Dame Hodson, who said that Molly
Sanders was always .r aking things out
worse than they really were, that Pal
mer had taken only a wheel-barrow
load of turnijis, and that she had her
account from Jenkins, the tailor. i
Away went the farmer to Jenkins,
the tailor, who stoutly denied the ac
count altogether; ° he had only •' told i
Dame Ilodson that Palmer hail umSjf pulled
u H svrciai tuiuipb; uu. non ““ ;
could not tell, for that he did not see
himself, hut was told it by Tom
Slack, the plowman.
Wondering where this would end,
Farmer Brown next questioned 1 om
Slack, who, in his turn, declared he
had never said a word about seeing
Palmer pull up several turnips; ha
only said that he had heard say that
Palmer had pulled up a turnip, and
Barnes barber, was the person who
had told him about it.
The farmer almost out of patience
at this account, hurried on to Barnes,
the barber, who wondered much that
people should find pleasure in spread¬
ing idle tales which have no truth!
He assured the farmer all he had said
about the matter, while he took off
the beard of Tom Slack, was that, lor
all he knew, Palmer was as likely a
man to pull up a tuiuip as any of liia
neighbors.
Be a Man. I
Foolish spending is the father of
poverty. Do not be ashamed of hard
work. Work for the best salaries of
wages you can get, but work for halt i
price rather than be idle. Be your own
master, and do not let society or fash
ion swallow up your individuality—
hat coat an 1 ' Do not eat up of
’
wear ™ all a that you > earn. Compel , . your
abab o somethiag fo,
Be to your own
appetite, but memful to others’ neces
for yourselt. bee ia ^'0rood p 1
Let y° ur P ride be l)f the rlgl ' klnd
Be too proud to be lazy; too proud to
up without conqueni.g every
difficulty; too proud to wear a coat
you canno t afford to buy; too proud ta
be in company that you cannot i<ee I's
np with expenses; too proud to lie; o*
steal, or cheat; too proud to be stingy
—The Home.
Life Without a Newspaper.
Once upon a time a certain man got
mad with the editor and stop; K>d his
The next week he sold liis
paper. below i' "
corn at four cents 11
, )rica Then his property wa-^ ,
because he ^
taxes> arrested and
sheril r s sale. He was
fined $8 for going hunting on .Sunday,
iniply because he didn’t know it wai
s $3 for lot ol
sundav JnS* - and he paid advertised a
forged notes that had teen
,
two not to weeks negotia and ne pujc t ^ ^
paid big In- ^ ^ ^ ^ Jjk<
a ■ •
to I ‘ wher e hr
way , j tJon jn a ,j.
l >M
vance had the editor s!gn an
-nient to knock him down and
agrei ordered liis papei
rob him f he ever
stopped again. inch is Lfe without a
newspaper.— N«u) York newsdealer.
[ CHILDREN’S COLUMN.
Playing School.
Tllc nicest P la J (or » rainy day
U wifh dollie9 f°* scholars,
j hai, aD ^ ave
,
Ami to set them so in an even row,
And to tell them to study ri'cely,
I 1 bat their recess of an hour or less
Will be Ht twelve precisely,
j j Sometimes you’ll find that dolls won’t mind,
... „
,
When it isn’t necessary.
The C'at In the Clipboard.
Great A, little a, bouncing B,
Ihe cat’s in the cupboard and can’t see me!
* always w.„dep«l „h, she coold
j not, as pussies see test iu the dark;
** »»» lay I found out.
Wa nl.il men were in the parlor,when
tve heard the queerest,strangest knock
ing in the kitchen. The maid-of-all
work was out, so it could not be she
making the noise, We looked at each
i other.
i “Trumps!” said Lizzie.
‘‘ N ° nsense! ” said Will, and he walk
“ boWJy mto the kitchen followed ,fcy
Ar,hur anJ we * ,rh Nothia S was
f . the kltchen
r0Dg ln '- the came
from the pantr y ’ The pantry door was
-
; and vvhen W,il fl
a J ar ’ " n S wide open
we s ;' w sometb > n ff m a jar. A strange
, at hud in at the she
« come window;
^ ea t. and b ^n badgot searching her head for something into one to of
8 earthen jars and could not get
” ^ noclfn g we had heard
brought and one Mow with It mad. a
bole in the bottom. Pussy, seeing day
light, tried harder than ever to get
out; she plunged so violently, it was
difflcu i t t0 get ” near her. But two
more blows broko the jar in pieces; all
but the neck; this was b>ft ° n pUS9y s
DeCk ’ and ° ff she Went as fast as she
could go, with this queer necklace on,
to her home on the mountain .—Little
Men and Women.
A Boy who Became Famous.
A , coy, , „ only , years old, .. was sail- ,,
six
with ,, , his . lather A down , ,, the Danube. .
. „ ... cflliMillg , .. - ,, . TrOwBftg „
pas f TOSS,
cas tles, cloisters hid away among the
cra g S) towering cliffs, quiet villages
nestled in sunny valleys, and here and
i b . re a dee P gorge that opened back
f rom gliding river, its hollow dis
)ance b j ue vvdb fathomless shadow,
und dg lonlineas and stillness stirring
the boy’s heart like some dim and vast
cathedral. They stopped at night at
a cloister, and the father took little
Wolfgang into the chapel to see the
organ. It was the first large organ
be had ever seen; and his face lit up
with delight, and every motion and
attitude of his figure expressed a
wondering reverence.
“Father,” said the boy, “let me
play! Well pleased, the father com
plied. Then Wolfgang pushed aside
the stool, and when his father had
filled the great bellows, the elfin or
gau j s t gtood upon the pedals. How
the deep tones woke the sombre still of
the old church! The organ seemed
some great uncouth creature, roaring
*' ,r ' er j°- at the caresses of this
-
marvelous child.
The monks, eating their supper in
the refectory, heard it, and dropped
knife and fork in astonishment. The
organist of the brotherhood was among
them, but never had he jdayed with
such power, They listened: some
crossed themselves, till the prior rose
un and hastened into the chapel. The
others followed; but when they looked
np , Bt0 the orgaQ loft, lo! there was
D0 organist t0 be seen ’ thou « h the
de ep tones still massed themselves in
ne w harmonies, and made the stone
wche8 thri n w ith their power. “It is
dravv j n g c i 0 « er to his companions, and
iving a sCared look over his shoulder
at tb e darkness of the aisle.
-qt is a miracle,” said another. But
wbell the boldest»of them mounted the
stairs to the organ-loft, he stood as if |
tetrified with amazement. There was
the tiny figure, treading from pedal to
pedal and at the -atne time clutching
at the keys above with his little hands, I
^ ^ handfuls of those wonderful
^ bord9 jf thev were violets, and !
g them out into the solemn
glooin behind him. He heard nothing,
saw nothing besides; his eyes beamed;
an 1 his whole face lighted up with im
passioned joy. Louder and fuller rose
the harmonies, streaming forth in
o ino . b jji 0 , V s, till at last they seem- I
e d to reach a sunny shore, on which
th ,. y bro ke; and then a whispering |
ripple of faintest melody lingered a
moment in the air, like the last mu,
m ,ir of a wind harp, and all was still.
The boy was John Wolfgang Mozart. |
I
A fine lion is worth $2,000, and a
like lioness brings from $1,000 to
$i,500.
A REMARKABLE BURGLAR
The Career of a Talented Safa
Opener in America.
Picking the Lock of Every Dell in the
Prison Where He was Confined.
In the course of a conversation with
a New York safe maker, a Star report¬
er asked:
“Do you think that expert mechan*
Ics in the safe trade are ever in league
with criminals?”
“There are black sheep In every
business,” was the reply, “but if there
are any they are very few indeed. In
our business it pays a skilled locksmith
better to keep honest than to go astray,
taking the risk which he necessarily
runs into consideration. The pay is
not only good but the chance of re¬
ward for giving a job away is consid¬
erable. I believe that men who be¬
come professional criminals take to
that mode of life from choice rather
than from the necessity. I think it
is largely in the blood. Of all trades
none pay better wages ”... to skilled labor
than ours. Competition , is , keen and ,
orains command , a good , figure. „ „
° j
“Flow ,, much , will a combination , . .
.
“All the .. ways J from . $25 ... . to $40 a
week , not to speak of . certain . fees
whuh they have the opportunity of
receiving. In my experience ot men
m this business I find that . the . majori- J .
ty ot .... those whom we consider , ‘shady
J
are almost invariably , , foreigners. „ The
case of . August . Kindt, T “, .. the “ Belgian „ , ,
8 b
. bank , . burglar, . offers . the most conspic-
8 H
ious . illustration. ... „ That man is a gen
ms; thoroughly well educated, speaks
several languages and might, had he
been so disposed, have accumulated a ;
fortune. But crime seems to have an
irresistible fascination.”
Detective Jackson of Sing Sing told j
the writer the following particulars in
regari to Kindt.
i i
J 1
do, _ well . _ burglar
as as any in this coun
.
try, and far better than many. Kindt ;
came from Belgium some seven years
ago, and obtained employment m ;
a watch case factory in Jersey
City. While there he invented sever
Fjipi’d'iy'.u 1 Q,& ,n fe.»> n 'L .Yi 0g
or four weeks after his arrival several
bars of silver were missing from the
manager’s safe. The door was found
locked, and there was only two men
wh° had the combination, the princi- i
pal * and the manager, 6 ’ neither of whom
suspected l Kindt. A close watch was
set, ’ and one day J it was discovered
that Kindt . to the , shop had
on coming s K
some silver filling on his clothes. The
workmen , in the . habit ,, of . chang- ,
were e
ing their ... clothing . both , on coming to
and departing 6 from work. The above ,
aroused suspicion, . and , a strict . . watch . ,
was set on Kindt s house. More , , bars
were stolen, notwithstanding the com¬
bination was changed, and it was fi¬
nally determined to raid Kindt’s house.
A close search was made, but nothing |
was discovered, until one of the detec- i
tives in leaping on a window-sill
missed his footing, and in trying to
save hold of himself the sill, from the top falling of which grabbed j
gave
way. The Bpace below was almost
filled up with silver in various shapes,
watch cases, bars and nuggets.
"Kindt was arrested, but subse
quently succeeded in escaping to Mon
treal. There he disguised himself,
changed his name and went to work
in a machine shop, and might have
done well. In a few months, however,
he was concerned in a burglary on
Notre Dame street. Part of the booty
was found at his house, and he was
arrested, tried and sentenced to im
P ri ~ nt tbe Vincent de Haul
1 emtentiary.
“He sets his wits to work and soon
attracted the attention of the prison
officials by hi3 remarkable indication
of talent. One day he requested an
interview with the Warden. He ob
tamed it.
“‘Warden,’ he said, ‘this prison is
unsafe.’
N IJesa fi° ld y°" secuiely
enough,’ replied that official, grimly,
“If you 11 give me a chance, retort
ed Kindt. ‘I’ll show you that I can
pic* every loca in the building, safe,
cells and all
‘‘ rhe Warden had heard and seen
much of his prisoner, but for this rev
elation he was totally unprepared.
•I’ll give you a chance.’ A time
was agreed upon, and sure enough
Kindt picked every ceil lock as easily
as though it had been made of paper.
The authorities were startled and
alarmed. Kindt kept cool and asked
for the use of some paper and a pencil.
•••What, for?’ replied the warden.
“ ‘To draw a plan of a lock that is to
be the best lock ever fitted into a pris
on door.’ The paper and pencil were j
furnished him, and the result was
that he produced a plan by which,
through the working of a series of
levers from a central action, all the ,
VOL. XI. NO, 49.
cells on a single tier could bo opened
or closed simultaneously. His plan
was adopted, and In a short time ha
made an improvement on it by which
any one lock could be operated at will
without affecting the essential features
Of the invention.
“At the close of his term Kindt was
offered a situation, but declined its
acceptance. He made his way to St
Albans, Vt, and was arrested there
on an old charge and taken to Au burn
From thence he made his escape by
softening the stonework around the
bars of his cell With some chemical.
Then he was captured and taken to
Sing Sing, and served out a sentence
for burglary. 1i
It was only a week or ten days ago
this expert burglar was again sen¬
tenced to imprisonment for theft,
lie pleaded, with tears in his eyes,
that it had been committed in order to
save his wife and children from starv¬
ation. Had he chosen to live hon¬
estly he might now have been worth
thousands of dollars.
_ ...
A , good , many years ago a man who .
°
. had , recently arrived , , from , the Bermu
da , island . , , sent . to . , York r . county
was
(l ean.) jail for some offense „ commit
ted against the laws of the common
wealth. , ... He had with .. him a few „ seeds
which h( . lanted in the rirh soil of
the jail tL Before the plants which
sprang from „ the .. seed , reached . matu
rity, .. he . discharged, ... . and .
was no one
knew ... the nature . of ... them. They grew
luxuriantly, ,, bearing fruit of large size
and „ , unusual , appearance, As this
strange fruit ripened, its color , changed , ,
frQm green tQ a brilliant redi anJ be .
came an of wonder and adinira .
Uon t() a „ the inmates of the jaiL
Mrs Klinefelterj the lad keeper> cau .
tioned aU the i30nerg in8t eati
any of the fruit, as she was sure it
wa8 poiHonoua , but planted gome of
th0 8eed as she desired to ve
specimens of it for him should he re
t»Tn in time. Just when the fruit
wa8 full raatured the Bermuda pris
oner reviglte( , th<J jail 8nd asked to 8ee
the lant> This mt ted> be
noxt called for pepper, salt and vine
and to the h( , rror of tbe d lad
commenced to eat ot tho supp08ed
asfdhTnfim ’“Jitth. ’feiB
joyjng the 8t repast , he informed
K ^ the fr|lit or vegetable
wa8 the tomat()> 01 . i 0V e apple, and it
wouId be found wholesome and nutri
tioug The geo(] of the remainin to .
matoes . was carefully „ preserved ,__. and
distributed ....... among the friends , . , and .
neighbors ... of ... the lady, . . and ... thus this ...
new popular , esculent , , was introduced ......
into .... the ancient . and . goodly „ borough , .
of York. For many yeirs thereafter .. ..
it was cultivated ... . , as an ornament .
rather .. than for ,, tuble . ,. . but , . by
use,
degrees . its merits .. . began to . . be
more
fully . ,, understood .... and appreciated, . . , and .
there, as elsewhere, it grew into gen¬
eral public favor. *
Workmen’s Wages in 1800.
In the great cities unskilled work
men were hired by the day,bought their
own f 00d and f 0U nd their own lodging,
Bul in tbe country, on the farms, or
wherever a hand was employed on
8ome pub i, c WO rk, they were fed and
i (M i g( . d i, y the employer and given a
few dollars a month. On the Penn
avlvania canals the diggers ate the
coarsest diet, were housed in the rud
est B h e ds, and paid $6 a month from
May t0 November and $5 a month
f rom November to May. Hodcarriers
and mortar-mixers, diggers and chop
pers> who from 1793 t0 1800 labored
on the public buildings and cut the
streets and avenues of Washington
City, received $70 a year, or, if they
wished, $60 for all the work they could
perform from March I to December 20.
The hours of work were invariably
from sunr j 9e to sunset. Wages at
Albany and New Y'ork were three
shillings, or, as money then went, forty
cen ts a day; at Lancaster, $8 to $10 a
month; elsewhere in Pennsylvania
workmen were content with $6 in
summer and $5 in winter. AtBalti
more men were glad to be hire<J at
eighteen pence a day. None, by the
month, asked more than $6. At
Fredericksburg the price of labor was
f ro m$5to$7. In Virginia white men,
employed by the year, were given £16
cur rency; slaves, when hired, were
c i ot hed and their masters \ aid £1 a
month. Around Virginia a pound
was> jn Federal money, $3 33. The
average rate of wages the land over
was, therefore, $65 a year, with food
and, perhaps, lodging, Out of this
small sum the workmen must, with
his wife’s help, maintain his family.
A Lesson in Langomre.
Little Girl—“Please, ma, may I have
a egg?”
Ma—“Don’t say a egg; say an egg.”
L. G.—“Can I have a neg?”
M. —“That isn’t right.”
L. G , desperately—“Please, ma, can
I have an hegg?”—J^roe Press.
Th* Dream of the Aimless.
I dreamt a dream in the morning,
When the shadows were dim and graft
And oh, such a prospect golden
O’er my shining pathway lay 1
The earth was filled with gladness,
The air was filled with song,
And I thought that but love and beauty
Could inspire me all day long.
I dreamt a dream at the noontide,
When halt of the day was past;
The first half I knew was barren,
But glorious I’d make the laet;
But the world Jay part in the shadow,
The songs were not half so sweet,
And love and beauty were fleeting
Like shadows beneath my feet.
I dreamt a dream at the eren,
When the day its course had run.
And my heart grew sad within me
To think how little Fd done.
But I said: “j shall work to-morrow,
And make my name be known,
Till the nations of earth shall wonder.
As my mighty power they own 1”
But alas I and alas ! time passes,
The sun rises, shines and sets—
Each morning so full of promise,
Each even’ so full of regrets ’
And day follows day more fleetly.
While ambition and glory rave,
Till, at last, outworn and aimless,
1 shall Bink in a nameless grave.
HUMOROUS.
A great hardship—An iron steam
er.
Breeches of contract—Those that
shrink.
Opening the season—uncovering the
mustard pot.
Why is a thief in the garret like an
honest man? Because he is above
doing wrong.
“Before a man settles down he
should settle up,” and before a man
settles up he must settle down.
Some people are willing to be good
If they are well paid for it. Others
prefer to be good for nothing.
“Lemons are a great assistance to
people these hot times,” observes an
exchange. Yes; a sort of lemonade,
as it were.
“If man wants to own the earth,
what does woman want?” inquired
Mr. Grab of his better-half, after a
little family matinee a few days ago.
“Well, my dear,” responded that lady
in a gentle, soothing tone, “to own the
man, l suppose.”
when I am glad—Song i?T tne Ccuu ’ in
my gladness; I love to sing when I am
sad, for song makes sweet my very
sadness.” From which we infer that
she loves to sing. Her neighbors have
not yet been beard from.
Street car routes in Scotch cities are
laid off in districts, the fare within
each being a penny. The passenger
pays a penny on entering, and, as each
new district is reached, the conductor
collects another penny. The system
is found to encourage short rides—the
most profitable to the companies.
A Welsh Funeral Superstition.
From time immemorial there has
been a strong feeling of repugnance
among the inhabitants of rural par¬
ishes in Wales to burial “without the
sanctuary.” This does not mean in
uneonsecrated ground, but on tbe
north side of the church, or in a re¬
mote corner of the church yard. The
origin of this prejudice is said to
have been the notion that the north¬
ern part was that which was appropri¬
ated to the interment of unbaptized
infants, excommunicated persons, or
such as had laid violent hands upon
themselves. Hence it was popularly
known as the “wrong side of the
church.” In many parishes, therefore,
this spot remained unoccupied, while
the remaining portion of the church
yard was crowded. White, in his
“History of Selbourne,” alluding to
this superstition, says that as most
people wished to be buried on the
Bouth side of the church yard, it be¬
came such a mass of mortality that
no person could be interred “without
disturbing or displacing the bones of
his ancestors. >»
A Fishline from Seaweed.
One variety of seaweed found on
the European coast is known as Lucky
Minney’s lines. The arms, or fronds,
grow to a length of forty feet. When
outer bark and gelatinous filaments
are removed the frond is found to be
composed of a single filament like a
thread of silk, that grows in a coil,
forming a tube, the edges of the fila¬
ment adhering to each other. This
Is uncoiled by the coast people, and
when braided up in a four-ply cord
makes a fish line of extraordinary
strength.
A Money Making Scheme.
“How much will you give me,” said
Bobby to young Featherly, who was
making an evening call, “if I tell you
how you can make $5 in 10 minutes ?”
“Well, Bobby,” laughed Featherly,
“I will give you half.
“All right. Just take hold of your
tongue and hold it. Ma says she’d give
$5 to see you hold your tongue 10 min¬
utes.”— New York Times.