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gton Star.
J, W. ANDERSON, Editor and Proprietor.
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Sf En
Isolated.
tVe hold our dear ones with a firm, stroifc
grasp,
We hear their voters, look into their eyes;
And yet, betwixt us in that clinging clasp
A distance lies.
We cannot know their hearts, howo ’or i|e
:uay
Mingle thought, a piration, hope and pra [
er;
We cannot rouch 1 he:n, and in vain essay f
To enter there.
Still, in each heart of hearts a hidden dee
Lies, never fathomed by its dearest* bes",
With closest core our purest thoughts he
keep
And tenderest.
But, blessed thought! we shall notalwoylso
In darkness aud m sadness walk aloue;
There comes a glorious day when we s all
know
As we are known.
— Elinor Cira
THE RANCHMAN'S WIIE
BY FHANK II. CONVERSE.
U What 1 Another story about the
‘wild and wooly-West? I should think
you boys would get tired of hearing of
Indians and all that sort of thing. Well,
ht me think a minute.
Your Ann Bess isn’t anywhere round,
is she? No? For she isn’t over fond of
Indians or Indian stories—and withgood
reason.
It was way back in the seventies, I
fitted out at Fort Caspar, in New Mexi¬
co, and started off a’one, fur trapping
up among the foot hills.
They told me I was crazy to venture
so far, as the Indians were thicker than
flies all through the section of country
where I was going ; but I was used to
taking chances in those days, and game
was wonderfully plenty round the Gila
ranges. So I started off.
Well, I reached the southern foot hills
nli right, without seeing a sign of a red¬
skin. But for all that, I didn’t get
careless. I used a bow and arrows,
with which I was quite expert in those
days, to kill what game I wanted, rather
than run any risk of attracting the no¬
tice of any prowling Apache by a rifle
shot. I was very lucky with my trap¬
ping, and in about three weeks had a
mute load of pelts, with which I started
back toward the fort.
The second day of my journey brought
me to the bottom lands in the finest sec¬
tion of grazing country I ever saw. A
branch of the Gila river wound along
for miles like a blue ribbon, through
buffal ° g ,ass half wa Y ,0 the horses’
knees, while on every side there was
willow and cottonwood enough to sup¬
ply fuel for the biggest kind of a settle¬
ment.
I rode slowly along, with my pack
mule plodding a few paces behind,think¬
ing, as I well icmember, that I should
like nothing better than to have a nice
little ranch of my own in those parts,
and settle clown there.
A’d at once from behind there came a
yell—or, rather, a chorus of them—
such as a man, no matter how much
courage he may have, doesn't care :o
hear move than once in a lifetime.
Unslinging my rifle and turning ii
my saddle at one and the same time, I
saw a score or more of mounted Indians
coming up at full speed, whooping and
! yelling Hire so many fiends.
Of course tliore was but the one
to do. My horse was tolerably fast
in go (1 condition. It was late in
afternoon, and if I could keep
ahead of my pursuers, I might hope
escape them under cover of the night.
Leaving the pack mule and
to their fate, I gave old Reno his
and then began a race for life or
For an Lour , T I seemed , to . gam . little ,
lut e. n Then -i poor R no begun to „
while tbe Indian ponies, lashed to
higse t speed, drew nearer and nearer.
swung half round and dropped a
(I buck” with my Winche ter at a
dred yaids as neatly as you please,
—so to speak—this was only a drop
tbe bucket. On came tho rest
fiercer cries and more hideous yells,
comj anted by a fusillade from their
bines, as well as by some half dozen
rows, one of which went fairly
my right forearm jost below tbe
The pain was such for the moment
my fingers relaxed their grasp, and
i rifle fell to tho ground, leaving me,
e„p. , pr. .. ,,
cl,-, oo the <1.,
tore I hod broken the mo.o .pr„g el
rc '°*' Gr ’
“Ifidiehardrf drelmus, , I
tered. getting hold of my knife with
left hand, for my right had afiat
lecome almost useless-some nerve
cord having been severed by the
point of the arrow, as I supposed at
time.
All at once my flagging horse
a big clump of cottonwood. I saw
m „ entail. .US cue or ...
ings, not a furlong away, But at
’ se !-sa le moment old Reno’s
went uo n a gopher hole, and I
firing over Lis head, very much after
manner of a diver, only that my
were outs retched as a diver’s
ought to be.
COVINGTON, GEORGIA. TUESDAY, JUNE 18, 1889.
Luckily, I struck on my right
shoulder; so, though badly bruised and
shaken, I was on my feet like a cat in a
second. And the instinct of self preser
vation, as a matter of course, led me to
run at full speed toward the cabin,
though I could see no sign of life about
the premises.
But, run as fast as I might, tbo pur
suing ponies were faster, The red
skins, who, ns I afterward knew, ware
to a man Apaches—the most barbarous,
murderous race on the face of the globe
—could easily have tumbled me over by
a carbine shot or an arrow; but no, they
wanted a white man to torture. And if
you will believe me, when I was within
50 yards of the cabin, the chief, ■who
was rather better mounted than the rest,
was so close at ray heels that, leaning
forward with a devilish grin on his
painted face, he proldcd me gently in
the rear with the point of a long feath¬
ered lance, which lie carried in addition
to the carbine slung over his naked
shoulders.
lie smiled on the other side of his
ugly mouth a second Inter, though, for
all at once a little puff of smoko from
.one of the two cabin windows was fol¬
lowed by the crack of a rifle, and the
Apache chief pitched forward to the
earth—as dead an Indian as neid bel
Another report followed almost like
an echo,and another Indian bit the dust,
white a third discharge an instant later
drew a howl of pain from another,
whereupon the remainder wheeled sud¬
denly round and took up a position some
li’.tie distance away—far enough to be
practically out of range. Between the
increasing pain of my wound, and be¬
ing almost winded, for a moment or
two after I had stum! led iu at the door
of the cabin, which, thrown open to ad¬
mit me, was as quickly closed and
barred, I was silly enough to fall to the
floor, where I lay for a moment sort of
dazed faint, I suppose some would
call it.
“Here, drink this,’’ said a woman’s
voice.
It was spirit o t some kind, and though
to this day I don’t know one kind of
liquor from nno > ‘r. that j..,-m,,4 to be
an occasion when I felt justified in tak¬
ing it.
Any way, the fiery draught gave me
renewed strength, and brought me to
myself in a measure. I saw that the
woman who held the flask to my lips
was young, and the handsomest woman
—so I then thought and think to this
day, that I ever saw in all my life. Oh,
you needn’t laugh, boys, your Aunt Bess
knows all about it. She says she has
forgiven me for thinking so a very long
time ago.
I got on my feet in a hurry.
“Where are your men folks, ma’am?”
I asked, quick and sharp, as, looking
around the room I saw that she and I
were the only occupants. Her voice had
a curiously hard sound. Somehow it
seemed to match a sort of wild, unnat¬
ural look in her eyes, which were just
the color of tho^e of your Aunt Bess.
( l My husband—Jim Ilainsford—was
shot down in front of oar own door yes¬
terday morning, by that-. 11
Her speech seemed to fail lier, but
she pointed through the substitute for a
window to the outstretched body of the
Apache chief lying stiff and stark a few
rods away, killed by her own avenging
hand.
“There is no one else,” she added, re
covering her speech; and though I have
never been called a coward, I have to
confess that my heart sank at the pres¬
poet. all the while Mrs. Ilainsford was
I But
»iv> , r t ikin'’ h _ > she stood by J the window,
! rifle nno in land, watching the
Apaches, who, in a sort of huddle
'Oino eight liundre! yards distant,
veto evidently holding a consulta
tioo. Aod this of itself male mo pull
ay self together.
“I think I can manage that Winches¬
ter with my left hand and arm,’ I said,
f r my right hand had already swollen
all out of proportion, bhe turned
qdckly, and, seeing the condition of
the wounded member, uttered an cxcla
ma’Jon.
“Good u Heavens!” she said, short and
.
sharp; “youve been ,..t "ith a pc i one
; Ji
;«rr w! I knov, iot n v.i>
iiw sime wav the year after we were
livb? Moo
J „ .hot,
„ do ,.
And before I had an idea of her
P°« ^ , d on
^.m fresh
° J”^ J turc , wllich ,
1 | n ofthe poison, perhaps,
had fled very Httle. My cxpostula
tions vere in vain, Ejecting the
soneu fluid, and repeatedly rinsing
mouth with the raw spirit, of which
a time to
| ^ bi.ik from
he,
| A 11 ,L te.iiment *■ ■ ** » »»«*. swelling
! crease B the pam, ana 2 the
j sell bejan slow .3 to subsR.e.
j “Yen’ll do now, she a ‘■ u l )t J
| markedj rising which ta hei I Ret knew wit. the a
at my *ce, to
| was fast returning, but the situation
was an almost desperate one. Night
was fast approaching,; and though the
Apaches were making fio definite move
toward dislodging us, "... of course pic
sumed that they only (railed the cover
of darkness to carry opt their purpose,
Which shows how clay it is to be mis¬
taken—especially in reference to the
movements of the wilt Apache. For,
unperceived by eillier |f us, one of the
red fiends had separated himself from
the rest, and making a bug detour un¬
der cover of the willows along the river
bank, crept up in the rsur of the build¬
ing and fired it at the tro corners.
The first intimation |we had of this
new disaster was the f’oud of stifling
smoke that came pouvipg through the
chinks of the cottonwood logs, which
were as dry and almostj as inflammable
as tinder by their long exposure to the
baking sun and rarifted pir. Immediately
following we heard the sharp crackle of
the flames, kindled jito additional
strength by a strong westerly breeze,
and above alt rose the exulting yells of
the Apaches, who of purse expected
that wo should very ’shortly be driven
from cover.
“I don’t know how yoj feel about it,”
said my companion in same hard,
unemotional voice, “but I had rather
burn to dealh a hundred:.imes than fall
into the hands of those pads.”
Before I could reply, it great tongue
of fire burst through in f t the interior.
A sudden thought seernet to come to
the brave woman at m v si le.
“This way—quick! ’ the exclaimed.
And pulling up a trap doir in the rough
flooring, she dropped lighriy through—
I following—-letting the tiap fall back
to place.
There was no timo foi standing on
ceremony. Reaching out a small hand,
that was icy cold, though firm as a rock,
Mrs. Ilainsford, taking my ow’d,
drew me to the further end
of the rude cellar, In those parts
it was customary to qonstjuet a sort of
vegetable cellar a few feet away from the
house, in addition to the 05ie uijder the
dwellin'’’ o* for winter use. Dpt Ilainsford,
from sffKue vairm or 'ms tn»w, * ~ T
his place of winter storage in one end of
the main cellar itself, roofing it over on
the outside with slabs of gray sandstone
from the river bottom. All this his
widow hastily explained as we groped
our way to the heavy door of thick
planking in the side of the cellar wall,
and, having entered, pulled it to after
us.
It was indeed a last resort, and it is
no wonder that for some tine neither of
us was inclined for conversation. Over¬
head was the roaring of flames, followed
a little later by the crash of failing tim¬
bers and beams. The heat was almost
stifling, but luckily the wind blew the
fire and imoke directly away from the
covering above, or else, despite the
apertures left for ventilation, we should
have been smothered.
We could hear the Apaches’ cries of
fiendish joy as they stool about the
burning building, expecting to see their
victims bursting through the flames, and
it was a trifling satisfaction tef know
that they were doomed to disappoint¬
ment.
As the anxious hours went by, anl
the intensity of the heat decrease l some¬
what, I drew from Mrs. Ilainsford her
simple story. She and her hu band,
who was twice lcr own age, had moved
southward from M m tana. “He was al¬
ways good to ms, Jim was," she said,
with a little sob, and so they had lived
in quiet contentment on their small
ranch till the terrible tragedy of the
previous day. War Cloud had ridden
up with his party and demanded whis¬
ky, which Ilainsford refused him with¬
out ceremony. Whereupon the Apache
chief deliberately shot him through the
heart, and, strangely enough, the band
rode away without offering any violence
to his horn fled wife, who, »11 alone, had
dug a grave under the cottonwoods, and
buried her husband’s body out of sight.
She was intending to make her way to
the nearest settlement on tie following
morning, and after communicating with
her people in Montana, decide upon her
further course of action. Tuen I had
appeared upon the scene. In
return, I told her of myself as
far as feemed necessary, aud I
L.rdlj.... pl.cd or.™*
», he, .. «h. W.t.t ol rcturo.
,11 .he bod don. for m,-so,tag rop
; life in a double sense, as it were, for
not only ha d she afforded me protection
from the fury of the savages, but had
undoubtedly prevented my dying a hor
ri ble death from the poisoned arrow.
It is probable that the Apaches pre
sumed that we had both perished in the
! flames, for, after day dawn, when I ven
■ tured to push aside on* of the slabs
] , f stone covering our retreat, they had
| A* «« hour. . party of
*»,. 7^“”
j mute S*S*. team and compie-e oulu- “-ove
sight, and 1 need hardly say, after hear
j iu our story, they extended every
uess towaru us.
j We reached El Paso with them
about a fortnight, and their I said good
by to Mrs. Hansford, for a time at least.
Did I ever see her again?
Why, yes. I married her the
j'car after, and wc came
East to live, for it’s your aunt Ress 1'vo
been telling you about—didn't you mis¬
trust? No? We'd, those are tho facts
in the case, as the lawyers say, but—
there she comes across the street. Better
not mention that I have told you the
story; she never likes to talk of that ex- .
perience, or hear it mentioned. Bather
hair has been as white as it is now ever
since that night in the cellar of the burn¬
ing house. — The Argosy.
f ■ Fire,
■Savages -rtlio Cannot Produce
It is not often that explorers discover
savage ] eople who are ignorant of tho
art of producing fire. Ai-'ffar as is
known, fire has been a necessity even
among the rude t savages for many cen¬
turies, and it always excitei wonder
wdien wc hear at rare intervals of people
who, while enjoying the blessings of
fire, express themselves as wholly ignor¬
ant of the methods of producing it, and
w ho imagine that if by some ea amity all
their firCT were extinguished they could
never rekindle them.
Such a tribe lias recently been met by
Dr. Finscli during his travels in New
Guinea. He says the people in the large
villages that are buiicd in the forests
along the shores of Astrolabe Bay know
of no means by which they can produce
fire. It is therefore a duty devolving
upon every member of the community to
aid in preserving fire. All their cooking
is done outside their huts in the open
air, but in the centre of each hut is a
fireplace, and it is a crime to permit the
lire to go out. They use hard wood
that burns very slowly, and their aim is
to keep a good bed of coals on which
the wood burns without bursting into
flame.
Dr. Finsch asked the natives if they
never lost their lire, lie was told that
such a calamity had cccuired, and that
they would never have had fire again if
it had not been frr a very fortunate cir¬
cumstance. They know' a tribe in the
niAi ntains awav fr/w *1 p^8
sess the art of making fire, which they
guard r.s a secret. One time the people
were compelled to go to these firemakers
for the spark that would lekindlc the
dead embers in their liu s. Tire/ ear
r el the fie for many miles. They were
determined never again to be reduced to
this ne cssity, though it made them feel
very comfortable to think that they
knew where they could get fresh fire if
they lest t he r own.
It is to b: pres lined that these simple
minded natives have now ceased to guard
the snfbuldering embers in their huts
with such jealous care. A white man
has been among them, one of the sort
who brings blessings instead of evils in
his train, and they know now that even
i: the/ never see a white man and the
wonderful little fire sticks he cairied
with him again, they can, w.th the aid
of friction and tinder, be their own flro
makers.
An Abused Image of Washington.
Kyplur, the New York dealer in art
relics, curio ; , etc., has in his establish¬
ment a wooden statue of George Wash¬
ington with a hist' ry. The statue was
set up at the Battery in 1704 and there
it stood for 40 years or more until it got
badly battered and became an eyesore to
artists and art lovers. It was then put
up at auction by the city, and the city
got soundly berated fur the iud gnity.
A French dealer iti relics named Jacques
bought the figure on speculation lor
$250 and failing to realize upon it
stowed it away in the attic of his
country-house at S'mtli Norwalk, Conn.
M. Jacques died in 1863 and at the sub¬
sequent sate of his effects the wooden
George fell into the Lands of a Y r ankee
curiosity hunter, who paid a mere trifle
for it a ,d sold it at a considerable ad¬
vance to one Ficderick J. Theobald,
who placed it in front of a modest es¬
tablishment in Harlem, which was
henceforth known as the “Washington
Cigar Stoic.” Every 221 of February
and 4th of July Sir. Theobald religiously
decorated the statue with flags. One
day, not very long ago, Mr. Syphcr
heard of the ignoble use to which the
father of his c uutry was put and opened
negotiations which resulted in his get
ting possession of the same. The figure
is 8 feet 10 inches high, and is a credit
able work of its kind. Washington is
represented as standing ia an easy pos
ture holding a chape mat his hip. The
Continental costume consists of a bluish
black coat, white waistcoat, luff
breeches and top boots, The old-fash
loned fob is iu its proper place, and the
expression cf the face is benignant.—
aVe<£ Orleans J'lCoywe.
In Doubt.
Wife: Ny u w bonnet came home
thU.I.e— , Charlie, won’t you take
. ee A B ker. to-night?
| Hus ,2J D-> you want to see Mrs.
I Baker, or do you want her to see yon?—
j j Tnrit
1
VOL. XV. NO,
THE CZAR’S ARMY.
^ Grand Sight at St. PeterS
j burg.
Armed en Reviewed By the
Emperor.
If you wish to see military Russia in
all its glory and epic luxury you must
take your place in the first days of April
on one of those tribunes which rise at
the extremity of tho Cliarnp de Mars on
on both sides of the imperial pavilion.
Society meets there to asiist at the grand
spring review. All thp Guard is massed
before us—20,000 men at least, aud per¬
haps more. , Other states may pride
themselves on a military force equivalent
to this, but none can show a force so
magnificent and picturesque in aspect, j
All the races and all the arms of this
varied empire are about to defile before
our eyes, from those noble Chevalier
Guards, who seem to have been resusci¬
tated from the romantic Middle
:
Ages, down to the Kirghccz of the
Asiatic stepps. who are still pagans.
< i Attention! •• Thousands of voices
have transmitted the same word of com¬
mand. “The Emperor!” He appears
yonder at the coraer of the Camp de
Mars. The moment ho has seen all tho
flags flutter, all the bands join in ono
formidable chorus to send heavenward
the sounds of the national hymn, “God
save the Czar. 11 The Emperor arrives
at a gentle gallop, Behind him follows
an escort which makes many hearts beat
amongst the fair public of the tribunes.
It is a gathering of the mow illustiious
names aud the finest horsemen of the
Russian nobility. All the armies of the i
world have contributed to form this I
staff. Tlie Hungarian magnate rides side I
by side with tbe Japanese military at¬
tache, the French kepi salute) the fez
of tho Mussulman bey. Tiio Master
passes along the front of his troops; the
Empress follows in an open barouche, j
At tho approach of their Majesties the
Land of each regiment resumes tho j
iivinw with wild fury —a hurricane of
harmony, which accompanies and en¬
velopes tho imperial procession, The i
traditional salutations are exchanged be¬
tween the Czir an 1 his soldiers: “Good
day, children. “We nm happy to do
well for your Imperial Majesty. V !
■
The sovereign stops before the trib¬
une of the Grand Duchesses; he g.ves
the signal, and the march pa^jpj^gins. }
the head tho platoons of the Asi¬ i
At are
atic escort, eastern and wild Ititjisin,
Mussulmans from Khva and Bokhara,
Georgian princes, Tclerkessei, Persians,
Mongols and Caueariim. These primi¬
tive warriors, armed with lances and
steel maces, wear long coats of mail
over their brilliant silk dresses, furs of
great price, damascened helumts or Tar¬
tar caps. T .is is tho vanguard of the
hordes of Attila, the concession made in
the regular army to legend anl fancy.
Then come the compact masses of the
regular army, the infantry first of all—
Proebrajcasky, Finland Chasseurs, and
soldiers of the Paul Regiment, with
their large copper hats iu the form of
mitres—such as were worn by the Grana
diers of Frederick the Great. In ac¬
cordance with as old tvalitioa, all men
who have flat noses are reci uite l for this
regiment. The linns of cavalry follow
the infantry like living walls of brass
and steel. Then cone the light troops
.—Red Hussars. Grenadiers; and Lan
cers; aud finn y swaims of Cossacks,
galloping on their little pontes,
sweep along from the extremi
ty of the Champ de Mars at
full speed, stop and turn short at the
foot of the imperial tribune. These
troops perforin the exercises of the Arab
fantasia—he down on their saddles,
lean over to the ground wrtliout quit
ting their stirrups and pick up the
lance or pis! >1 that they have thrown
down before then. The artillery closes
tin march. Tin batteri s, almirably
hors id, are carried along at full speed by
black chargers as fins as the finest
i trotters.
j As the last cinnons disappear, rattling
over tho pavement behind the trees of
the Summer Garden, tho court and its
1 G ucsts S° t0 breakfast in the palace of
j ! the Prince; of Oldenburg, which faces
| ! the Champ de Mars; and the foreignei
j who follows the Emperor—his eyes still
! ful1 of thii hcroic vi how
I a man <»« nsi 1 tbe intoxication of such
! P ower wthered - in his hand and the
temptation which must come upon him
;
I to let loose this superb force against th«
! world.— Harper* Magnt ne.
Drawing the Line.
“Bromley, di I you tell .Tones that I
j \ never told the truth. 47
“I said, on the contrary, that you oe
casionally inadvertently told the truth,
“Wc',1, that’s so met g else. I won’t
al’ow . ay mar. to mt mate tnat I’m a
constitutional liar. — T ne.
When a man asks you for boss-pitali
, ty do not my neigh to him.
The Roses by the Run.
The roses and the clover
Are yery sweet and fair,
And I love the fragrant odors
They breathe upon the air;
But the sweeter seemed the blossoms
Beside tho meadow run,
The time that you were twenty,
And I was twenty-one.
How fondly I remember
The time we culled them there,
And 'neath tho shady maples
I wove them in your hair;
How thero in bliss we tarried
Until tho set of sun,
Tho timo that you wore twenty,
And I was twenty-one.
It may have been the flowers,
Or a look benign and free,
That bade mo whisper softly
How dear yon were to me;
I never stopped to question,
I only know ’twas done,
The time that you were twenty
And I was twenty-one
We’ve had our summer, d rling,
The fields of life are brown.
We’ve traveled up the hillside,
We’re on our journey down;
Yet oft I wake from dreaming
Those days have just begun,
That you again are twenty
And I am twenty-one.
When life and love are over,
And I am laid ut, rest,
I hope some one will gather.
And place upon my breast,
Such flowers as used to blossom
Beside the meadow run,
The t me that you were twenty,
And I was twenty-one.
—Merchant Traveller.
HUMOROUS.
A sign of summer—Keep off the
grass.
A Western heiress is named Miss
Fish. She is considered a “good
catch.
Fond mother; “You must remember,
Emehne ’ that finG featilers don,t malcc a
fine bird.” Daughter: “True, mamma,
but they do make awfully pretty hats.”
Officer to Court—The charge against
this nlan > 9 blse pretences. He shouted
he could do up the whole ward, but I
guv him one rneself and flared him.
“However could you think of falling
in love with Such a homely fellow? Ilis
figure is r.,1 n JlVnn
but ho has a lovely one at the bank. ’ *
Mr. Kenwood—I hear you are engaged
to Mr. Tallboy? Miss South Park—
Who told you? Mr. Kenwood—I have
forgotten, but I understand the infor¬
mation came from Jack himself. Miss
South Park—I wish he’d tell me.
. i Will you vote for my bill?” inquired
the lobbyist of the legislator. “No,
sir, ” replied the latter; “your bill is a
swindle.” “Why, man, you must have
the wrong bill in mind. I mean this
fifty-dollar bill!” “Well, this appeal's
to be a good bill, >» said the legislator,
after examining it critically. “I’d vote
for it, of course. »»
Customcr—“I see you are advertising
full sets of teeth for $3. Dentist
(cautiously)—“Y-e-s, sir. Do you live
at home?” Customer—“No, I board.”
Dentist (with dignity)—You certainly
cannot expect an $8 set to be of any u e
in a boarding house, sir. My charge to
you will be $25.
A Mosque In the Sahara Desert.
A discovery of much archaeological
interest was recently made in tho Al¬
gerian Sahara. M. Tarry, who has been
carrying on work in connection with
the proposed Trans Sahara railroad,hav
j„„ noticed a mound of sand in the
neighborhood of Wargal, had the sand
dug up, an l discovered the top of a
dome. This naturally aroused his in¬
terest, and getting his Arabs to dig still
deeper, lie found underneath the dome
a square tower, then a platform tf ma¬
sonry, and finally a complete mosque.
Continuing tho excavations, M. Tarry
soon unearthed seven houses iu perfect
preservation, and came up n a subterra¬
nean watercourse. At the last nows nine
houses had been disinterred, and M.
Tarry was getting additional assistance
to clear cut the precious watercourse,
which he describes as sufficient to irri¬
gate a .small forest of palms. It is well
: known that the Sahara was at one time
much more populated than it is now,
a id its trade much more extensive, but
no one seems to have supposed that
cities had been buried under its sands,
a t least so recently as since the intro
duction of Mohammedanism,
-- ... --
The President’s Exchange Reader.
The official at the White House who
does the President’s newspaper reading
and clipping is Benjamin Montgomery,
the telegraphic secretary. He is one of
1 the most valuable officers of the force,
as in addition to his knowledge of tele¬
■ graphy. he possesses a wonderful ac
qu aintance with men and measures, and
j is singularly active in clerical work.
jj p u ow attends to a duty that was for
i meily perfotmed by Col. Lamont, name
| ly, perusing the newspapers of tho
country and trans'erring to a scrap hook
all articles regarded as worthy of the
President’s consideration, either because
of their praise or criticism of his ad
ministra ion,
