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Ilif (raid of 11 <>,>(•.
Bright ehir.eg the enn, bat brighter after rain
The clon.-te that darken make the ky mere
clear;
Bo reet la eweeter when it follows pain,
And the rad parting makes oar friends more
dear.
’Tlx well it should he thus, oar Father knows
The things that work together for otir good;
We draw a rweetm ss from oar bitter woes
We wonld not have a/1 sanshine if we could.
The da> a with all their beauty and tteir light
Coipe from the dark aufl into dark return;
Day 1 peaks of earth, hot heaven shines through
the night,
Where the blue a thousand star-fires
burn.
Bo runs the !aw, the law of recompense,
That binds our life on earth and heaven in
one;
Faith cannot live when all is sight and sense,
But faith can live and sing when these are
gone.
Wo grieve and mnrmur, for we can but see
The single thread that flies in silence by,
When if we only saw the things to be,
Our lips would breathe a song and not a sigh.
Wait then, my soul, and edge the darkening
cloud
With the bright gold hope can always
lend;
And if to-day thou art with sorrow bowed,
Wait till to-morrow-and thy grief shall end !
And when we reach the summit of our days,
Beyond the reach of shadows and of night,
Then shall our every look and voice be praise
To Him who shines, our everlasting light.
London Sunday Magazine.
THE HOSTLER’S STORY.
lit J. T. TROWBMDGK.
What, amused us mofit at the Lake
house hint summer was the performance
of a bear in the back yard.
He was fastened to a pole by a chain,
which gave him a range of a dozen or
fifteen feet. It was not very safo for
visitors to come within that circle, unless
they were prepared for rough handling.
He had a way of suddenly catching
yon to his bosom, and picking your
packets of peanuts and candy—ii you
carried any about you—in a manner
which took your breath away. He stood
up to his work on his hind legs in it
quite human fashion, and used paw and
tongue with amazing skill and vivacity.
He wns#triendly, and didn’t mean apy
harm, but lie was n rude playfellow.
I shall never forget the ludicrous ad
venture of a dandified New Yorker who
came out inly tho yard to feed bruin on
seed-cakes, and did not feed him fast
enough.
Ho had approached a trifle too near,
when all at once the boar whipped an
arm about him, took him to his embrace,
and “ went through ” his pockets in a
hurry. The terrified face of the strug
gling and screaming fop, and tho good
natured. business-like expression of the
fumbling and munching beast, oifered
the funniest sort of contrast.
The one-eyed hostler, who was tho
bt nr’s especial guardian, lounged leisure
ly to the spot,
“Keep still, and he won’t hurt ye,”
he said, turning his quid. “ That's
one of h>s trick*. Throw out what you’ve
got, and he’ll leave ye.”
The dandy made hnste to help bruin
to the last of the seed-cakes, and es
caped without injury, but in a ridicu
lous plight—his hat smiv-hed, bis neck
tie and lineu rumpled, and his watch
dangling ; but his flight was tho most
laughable part of all.
The one-eyed hostler made a motion
to the beast, who immediately climbed
the pole, and looked at us from the
crosspiece at the top.
“A bear,” said the one-eyed hostler,
turning his quid again, “is the best
liearted, knowiu’est critter that goes on
all-fours. )’m speakin’ of cur native
black bear, you understand. The brown
bear aini half so respectable, and the
grizzly is one of the ugliest brutes in
creation. Come down here, Pomp.”
Pomp slipped down the pole and ad
vanced toward the one-eyed hostler,
walking on his hind legs and rattling
liis chniu.
“Playful as a kitten I” said the one
eyed hostler, fondly. “I’ll show ye.”
He took a wooden bar from a clothes
horse uear by, and made ft lunge with it
at Pomp’s breast.
No pugilist or fencing-master could
have parried a blow moro neatly.
Then the one-eyed hostler began to
thrust and strike with the bar as if in
downright earnest.
"Rather savage play,” I remarked.
And a friend by my side, who never
misses a chance to make a pun, added :
“Yes, a decided act of bar-bear-ity.”
“ Ob, he likes it!’’ said the one-eyed
hostler. “Ye can’t hit him.”
And indeed it was so. No matter how
or where the blow wus aimed, a move
ment of Pomp's paw, quick as a flash of
lightuiug, knocked it aside, and he
stood good-humoredly waiting for more.
“Once in awhile,” said the oue-eyed
hostler, resting from the exercise and
leauing on the bar, while Pomp retired
to his pole, “ there’s a bear of this spe
cies that's vicious and blood-thirsty.
Generally, you let them alone and
they'll let you aloue. They won't
run from you maybe, bat they won’t
go out of their way to pick a quar
rel. They don't swagger round with a
chip on their shoulder lookin’ for some
fool to knock it off.”
'* Will they eat you ?” someone in
quired ; for there was viug of spectators
around the performers by this time.
“ As likely as not, if they are sharp
set, aid yon lay yourself out to be eaten,
but it amt their habit to go for human
flesh. Roots, nuts, berries, bugs and
any small game they can pick up. satis
fies their humble appetite as a general
thiug.
The one-eyed hostler leaned against
the pole, stroked Pomp’s fnr affection
ately, and continued somewhat in this
style:
“Bears are partic’larly fond of fat,
juicy pitjs; and once give ’em a taste of
hnmau flesh—why, l shouldn’t want my
children to be playin’ in the woods with
in a good many miles of their den 1
“ Which reminds me of Old Two
Claws, as they used to call him, bear
that plagued the folks over in Ridge
towtr; where I was brought up—wail, as
much as forty year ago.
“ He got his name from the peculiar
shape of his foot, and he got that from
trifling with a gun-crap. You know
wh t that is—a loaded gun set in such a
way that a bear or any game that's cur -
ons about it must come up to it the way
it p’ints; a bait is hung before the muz
zle, and a spring runs from that to the
trigger.
“He was a cunning fellow, and he
pnt ont an investigatin’ paw at the
piece of pork before trying his jaws on
It; so instead of gettin' a bulletin tue
head, he merely had a bit of his paw
shot off. There were but two claws left
on that foot, as his bloody tracks show
ed.
“He got off; bat this experience
seemed to have soured his disposition.
He owed a spite to the settlement,
“One night a great row was heard in
my uncle’s pigpen. He and the boys
rushed out with pitchforks, a gnn and a
lantern. They knew what the trouble
was, or soon found ont.
“A huge black bear had broken down
Oglethorpe Echo.
By TANARUS, L, GANTT.
! the aide of the pen; he had seized a fat
1 porker, and was actually lugging him
j off m his arms ! The pig was kicking
and squealing, but the bear had him
i fast. He did not seem at all inclined to
i give up his prey, even when attacked.
He looked sullen and ugly; but a few
jabs from a pitchfork, and a shot in the
: shoulder, convinced him that he was
making a mistake.
“He dropped the pig and got away
before my uncle could load up for
another shot. The next morning they
examined his tracks. It was Old Two
Claws.
‘ ‘ But what sp’ilt him for being a
quiet neighbor was something that'hap
pened about a year after that.
“ There was a roving family of Indians
encamped near the settlement; hunting,
Ashing and making moccasins and bask
ets, which they traded with the whites.
‘ ‘ One afternoon the Red-Bky -of-the-
Morning, wife of the Water-Snake -
with-the-Long-Tail, came over to the
settlement with some of their truck for
sale. She had a papoose on her back
strapped on a board; another squaw
' traveled with her, carrying an empty
jug.
“ Almost within sight of Gorman’s
grocery, Red-Sky took off her papoose
and hung it on a tree. The fellows
around the store had made fun of it
when she was there once before, so she
preferred to leave it in the woods rather
than expose it to the coarse jokes pf the
boys. The little thing was used to such
treatment. Whether carried or hung
up, papoosey never cried. j
‘ 1 The squaws traded off this truck,
and bought, with other luxuries of
civilization, a gallon of whisky. They
drank out of the jug, aud then looked at
more goods. Then they drank again,
and from being shy and silent, as at
first, they giggled and chatted like a
couple of silly white girls. They spent
a goo.l deal more time and money at
Gorman’s than they would if it hadn’t
been for the whisky, but finally they
started to go back through the woods.
“ They Went chattering and giggling
to the tree where the papoose had been
left. There was no papoose there!
“ This discovery sobered them. They
thought at first the fellows around the
store had played them a trick by taking
it away; butby-and-by the Red-Sky-of
tlie-Morning set up a shriek.
“ She had found the board not far off,
but no papoose strapped to it, only
something that told the story of what
had happened.
“ There were boar tracks around the
spot. One of the prints showed only
two claws.
“The Red-Sky-of-the-Morning went
back to the camp with the nows ; the
other squaw followed with the jug.
“When the Water Snake-with-the
Long Tail heard that his papoose had
been eaten by a bear, he felt, I suppose,
very much as any white father would have
felt under the circumstances. He vowed
vengeance against Old Two Claws, but
consoled himself with a drink of the
tire-water before starting on the hunt.
“ The braves with him followed his
example. It wasn’t in Indian nature to
start until they had emptied the jug, so
it happened that Old Two Claws got off
again. Tipsy braves oan’t follow a trail
worth a cent.
“ Net very long after that a woman in
a neighboring settlement heard her
children scream one day in the woods
near the house. She rushed out, and
actually saw a bear lugging off her
youngest.
“She was a sickly, feeble sort of wo
man , but such a sight was enough to
I give her the strength and courage of a
mau. She ran and caught rip an axe.
j Luckily she had a big dog. The two
j went, at the bear.
“The old fellow had no notion of los
j ing his dinner just for a woman and a,
! mongrel cur. Rut she struck him a
I tremendous blow on the back; at the
same time the pup got him by tte leg.
He dropped the young one to defend
himself. She caught it up and ran,
leaving the two beasts to have it out
together.
“The bear made short Vork with the
cur; but instead of following the woman
and child, he skulked off into the woods,
“ The settlers got together for a gratftl
hunt; but Old Two Claws for the
tracks showed that he was the scoundrel
—escaped into the mountains, and lived
to make more trouble another day.
“The child? Oh, the child was
scarcely hurt. It had got squeezed and
scratched a little in the final tussle; that
was all.
“ As to the bear, he was next heard of
in our settlement.”
The hostler hesitated, winked his one
eye with an odd expression, put a fresh
quid into bis cheek, and finally resumed:
“ A brother-in-law of my uncle, a man
of the name of Rush, was one day chop
ping in the woods about half a mile from
his house, when his wife went out to
carry him his luncheon.
“She left two children at home, a boy
about five years old, and a baby just big
enough to toddle around.
“ The boy had often been told that if
he strayed into the woods with his
brother a bear might carry them off,
and she charged him again that forenoon
not to go away from the house; bnt he
was an enterprising little fellow, and
when the sun shone so pleasant and the
woods looked so inviting, he wasn’t one
to be afraid of bears.
“ The woman stopped to see her hns
baud fell a big beech he was cutting,
and then went back to the house; but
just before she got there, she saw the
oldest boy coming out of the woods on
the other side. He was alone. He was
white as a sheet, and so frightened at
first that he couldn’t, speak.
“‘Johnny,’ says she, catching hold
of him, * what is the matter ?’
“ ‘ A bear !’ he gasped out at last.
“ ‘ Where is your little brother ?’ was
! her next question.
“‘ I don’t know,’ said he, too much
frightened to know anything just then.
“‘Where did you leave him?’says
[ she.
“ Then he seemed to have gotten his
wits together a little. ‘ A bear took
, him!’ said be.
“ You can gness what sort of an agony
the mother was in.
“ * Olt, Johnny, tell me true ! Think !
Where was it ?'
“‘ln the woods,’ he said. ‘Bear
come along.—l run.’
“She caught him up and hurried
with him into the woods. She begged
him show her where he was with his
little brother when thebear came along.
He pointed out two or three places. In
one of them the earth was soft. There
were fresh tracks crossing it—bear
tracks. There was no doubt about it.
“ It was aterr.ble situation for a poor
woman. Whether to follow the bear
and try to recover her chile, or go at
once for her husband, or alarm (the
neighbors ; what to do with Johnny
meanwhile—all tkr.t would nave been
1 hard enough for her to even if
she had had her wits about her.
“She hardly knew what she did, but
j just tollowtd her instinct, and ran with
Johnny ia her arms, or dragging him
after her, to where her husoand was
chopping.
" Well,” continued the one-eyed hos
tler ; “ I needn’t try to describe what
followed. They went back to the house,
and Rush took his rifle and started on
the track of the bear, vowing that he
would not come back without either the
child or the bear's hide.
“ The news went like wildfire through
| the settlement. In an hour half-s
THE ONLY PAPER IN ONE OF THE LARGEST, MOST INTELLIGENT AND WEALTHIEST COUNTIES IN GEORGIA.
dozen men with their dogs were on the
track with Rash. It was so much trou
; ble for him to follow the trail that they
j soon overtook him with the help of the
' dogs.
“But in spite of them the bear got
into the mountains. Two of the dogs
came up with him, and one, the only
one mat could follow a scent, bad his
back broken by a stroke of his paw.
Afte r that it was almost impossible to
track him, and one after another the
hunters gave up and returned home.
“ At last Rush was left alone; but
nothing could induce him to turn back.
He shot some small game in the moun
tains, which he cooked for his supper,
slept on the ground, and started on the
trail again in the morning.
“Along in the forenoon he came in
sight of the bear as he was crossing a
stream. He had a good shot at him as
he was climbing the bank on the other
side
“The bear kept on, but it was easier
tracking him after that by his blood.
“ That evening a hunter, haggard, his
clothes all in tatters, found his way to a
hackwood man’s hut over inWhite’s valley.
It was Rush. He told his story in a few
words as he rested on a stool. He had
found no traces of his child, but he had
killed the bear. It was Old Two Claws.
He had left him on the hills, and came
to the settlement for help.
“The hunt had taken him a round
about course, and he was then not
more than seven miles from home. The
next day, gun in hand, with the bear
skin strapped to his back—the carcass
had been given to his friend the back
woodsman—he started to return by an
easier way through the woods.
“ It was a sad revenge he had had,
but there was a grim sort of satisfaction
in lugging home the hide of the terrible
Old Two Claws.
“ As he came in sight of his log house,
out ran his wife to meet him, with— y hat
do you suppose ?—Aittle Johnny drag
ging at her skirts, and the lost child in
her arms.
“ Then, for the first time, the man
dropped, but he didn’t get down any
further than his knees. He clung to his
wife and baby, and thanked God for the
miracle.
“But it wasn’t much of a miracle,
after all.
“Little Johnny had been playing
around the door, and lost sight of " the
baby, and maybe forgotten all about
him when he strayed into the woods and
saw the bear. Then he remembered all
that he had heard of the'danger of being
carried off and eaten, and of course he
had a terrible fright. When asked about
his little brother he didn’t know any
thing about him, and I suppose really
imagined that the bear got him.
“But the baby had crawled into a
snug place under the side of tho rain
trough, and there he was fast asleep all
the while. Then he woke np two or
three hours after, and the mother heard
him cry; her husband was far away on
the hunt,
“True—this story I’ve told you?”
added the one-eyed hostler, as someone
questioned him. “ Every word of it!”
“ But your name is Rush, isn’t it ?” I
said.
The one eye twinkled humorously.
“My name is Rush. My uncle’s
brother-in-law was my own father.”
“And you?” exclaimed a bystander.
“I,” said the one-eyed hostler, “am
the very man who warn’i eaten by the
bear when I was a baby 1” Youth’s
Companion.
How Vassal* Lost a Pupil.
A letter from Poughkeepsie, N. Y., to
the World, says: At the beginning of the
term one year ago a- young lady from
New York entered the freshman class of
1878 at Vassar college. She was then
sixteen, of slight figure, brown-haired,
pretty, and a young person of buoyant
spirits, who speedily became something
of a character among her fellow-students.
It is said, however, that the faculty
found her intractable and subjected her
to a conrse of mild discipline which she
did not like. She had entered the col
lege nnder peculiar circumstances. Her
father had endowed a scholarship
there at a cost of £B,OOO, and she was
the first to receive its benefits. Finally,
much of what was considered infelicitous
in the girl’s ways was overlooked by the
faculty, and under the new order of
things matters moved along more
smoothly.
Just before the last holiday week she
was again, however, in open rebellion
against the authorities. She expressed
a determination to accompany a fellow
student to the latter’s home in the West
to spend the holidays. The head of the
college protested with emphasis; but
when the time arrived the young rebel
went on her proposed trip and returned
in due time and resumed her studies.
In the meantime she was corresponding
with and meeting in Poughkeepsie every
Saturday, when the young ladies are
permitted to leave the college to do
their shopping, the young son of her
father’s partner in New York.
Thus matters stood up to a recent-
Friday, when the young woman was
missing. Inquiry discovered that, with
the assistance of two of her chums, she
had quietly packed her wardrobe and
stolen away. The young man had a
carriage in waiting for her, and on her
arrival they went to the residence of Dr.
Elmendorf, of the Second Reformed
church, in Poughkeepsie, and were mar
ried. Then they were driven to the
Nelson house, where they remained,
until Saturday afternoon, going then to
New York. Dr. Elmendorf, it is said,
was induced to perform the ceremony
1 oply by the presence of a gentleman of
high standing in this city, who accom
panied the couple to the house and
vouched for their character and the regu
(larity of the proceeding. The father of
the bride and groom are in business to
gether,the former being a wealthy manu
facturer of a proprietary “ bitters.”
The two giris who assisted his daugh
ter in making her escape from the col
lege have been expelled and sent home.
Trade in Children.
Ernest Morris, the young American
naturalist traveling in Brazil, tells
about a practice prevailing along the
upper Amazon, as follows: At one of
the houses we met a trader who had
come from the river Japura. He had
on board a boy and girl of the Miranha
tribe for sale. Senor Batalhia bought
the boy, a bright-looking little fellow,
for fifty milrays, or £25. The little
girl cried pitifully when separated from
her brother. The trade in children is
spoken of by Bates, who was at Teffe
twenty-five years ago ; it is prohibited
by the government, bnt openly carried
on. The Mirarshas are the most power
ful tribe on the Japura ; they are a
warlike nation, who for a knife 'or gal
lon of rum, sell captured children.
Numerous raids are made by them upon
their weaker neighbors ; and men and
women are killed and the children sold
into slavery. At Teffe there is not a
house in which yon will not find
children of all ages, as yon also will at
Manaos. On my return on the steamer
liu Branco the captain was taking to
Para a boy that he hail bonght for £35.
“The reason tor this,” said Senor
Batalhia, “is very simple—we must
have servants amd they make good ones ;
j besides, they are not Brazilians—they
are Indians of New Granada. ” This
: trade in children is carried on more ex
i tensively every year, and is a disgrace
! to the government.
LEXINGTON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, APRIL 25, 1879.
I
Curious Method of latching Quail.
The following passage, from a work
called “ Sport and Work on the Nepaul
Frontier,” describes the manner of cap
turing quails in the East Indies: Trav
eling one day along one of the glades I
have mentioned as dividing the strips
of jungle, I was surprised to see a man
| before me in a field of long stubble,
| w;tn a cloth spread over his head and
i two sticks projecting in front at an ob
j tuse angle to his body, forming horn
| like projections, on which the ends of
j -His cloth, twisted spirally, wefe tied,
j I thought from his curious antics and
movements that he must be mad, but I
soon discovered that there was method
in his madness. He was catching qnail.
The quail are of ien very numerous in
the stubble fields, and the natives adopt
very ingenious devices for their cap
ture. This was one I was now witness
ing. overing themselves with their
cloth as I have described, the projecting
ends of the two sticks representing the
horns, they simulate all the movements
of a cow or bull. They pretend to paw j
up the earth, toss their make-believe
horns, turn round and pretend to scratch
themselves, and, in fact, identify them
selves with the animal they are repre
senting; and it is irresistibly comical to j
watch a solitary performer go through !
this at fresco comedy. I have laughed
often at some cunning old herdsman or !
shekarry. When they see you watching i
them they will redouble their efforts, and j
try to represent an old bull going through j
all his pranks and practices, and throw j
you into convulsions of laughter.
Round two sides of the field they have
previously put fine nets, and at the apex
they have a large cage with a decoy
qnail inside, or perhaps a pair. The
quail is a running bird, disinclined for
flight except at night; in the daytime
they prefer running to using "their
wings. The idiotic-looking old cow, as
we will call the hunter, has all his wits
about him. He proceeds very slowly
and warily; his keen eye detects the
conveys of quail, which way they are
going, his ruse generally succeeds won
derfully. He is no more like a cow than
that respectable animal is like a cucum
ber; but he paws, and tosses, and moves
about, pretends to eat, to nibble here,
and switch his tail there, and so on
maneuvers as to keep the running quail
away from the unprotected edges of the
field. When they get to the verge pro
tected by the not, they begin to take
alarm; they are probably not very cer
tain about the peculiar-looking “ old
cow ” behind them, and running along
the net, they see the decoy quads evi
dently feeding in great security and
freedom. The Y-shaped mouth of the
large basket cage looks invitingly open.
The puzzling nets are barring the way,
and the “old cow ” is gradually closing
up behind. As the hunter moves along,
I should have told you, he rubs two
pieces of dry hard sticks gently up and
down his thigh with one hand, produc
ing a peculiar crepitation, a crackling
sound, not sufficient to startle the birds
into flight, but alarming them enough
to make them get out of the way of the
“ old cow.” One bolder than the others,
possibly the most timid of tho covey,
irritated by the queer crackling sound,
now enters the basket, the others fol
lowing like a flock of sheep; and once in.
the puzzling shape of the entrance pre -
vents their exit. Not infrequently the
hunter bags twenty or even thirty brace
of quail in one field by this ridiculous
looking but ingenious method.
A Suicide’s Letter.
The dead body of an unfortunati
man. Hood Alston by name, was found
on the 3d of March under a tree at Bay
St. Louis, Miss. It was discovered
that lie had destroyed himself by mor
phine, and that he left behind him a
pitiful and deeply interesting letter.
He was evidently a man of culture, and
the letter said he had once been a jour
nalist. On the 2d of July, 1863, he was
struck on the head by a piece of shell at
the battle of Gettysburg. He recovered
to all appearances and was thought to
be quite well. In his letter, however,
Alston declares that he has since been
conscious that he has always been
hovering on the dangerous edge of in
sanity. He has felt on particular and
frequent occasions, an almost irresistible
impulse to kill people, and always pre’
ferentially those who were most dear to
him. To avoid this he has fled often
from the presence of a wife and chil
dren, living in California, whom he
tenderly loved; but has never had the
moral strength to confess his fears and
cause himself to be placed under re
straint. At last the accumulated
agonies of his apprehension, and the
horror of his secret was too much for
him and he slew himself. The case is
singular and suggestive. How far Al
ston’s madness was, as represented by
himself to himself, real and how far
feigned we shall probably never know.
Perhaps, as some writers wonld have us
think of Hamlet, he was sometimes sane
and sometimes otherwise. But were
his fears lest he should take the life of
others incident to his lneid intervals, or
Aid they only present themselves when
his mind was off its balance and so con
stitute the characteristic and proof of
his insanity ? The question is a puz
zling one, and, like the problem of
Hamlet’s lunacy and the inquiry whether
it is genuine or simulated, may invite
endless discussion while leaving the
issue forever in the sequel to be
“smothered by surmise.” —Nmo York
Evening Post.
A New Astronomical Wonder.
At the last total eclipse of the snn,
many astronomers busied themselves
chiefly with observing the corona which
had excited so much interest and specu
lation at previous eclipses. This is the
n (me given to the bright light seen out
side of the moon’s disk when the body
of the sun is completely hidden by it.
Opinions were divided as to its cause;
some observers thinking.it proceeded
from the sun’s atmosphere, or from lu
minous gases which shot far above its
surface; while others imagined it sepa
rated from the snn altogether, and due
to other causes in the depths of space.
From the observations made, and
from photographs taken, it is now be
lieved to be simply the reflected light of
the snn. This reflection is supposed to
be dne to immense numbers of meteor
ites, or possibly, systems of meteorites,
like the rings of Saturn, revolving about
the snn. The existence of such meteor
ites has long been suspected, and ob
servations now seem to justify a belief
in their existence. Their constant fall
ing into the sun is thought to be one of
the methods by which its heat is main
tained without loss.
Relief From a Corn.
Soak the foot in warm water for a
quarter of an hour every night; after
each soaking, rub on the corn patiently,
, with the finger, a half dozen drops of
sweet oil; wear around the toe during
the day two thicknesses of buckskin,
with a hole in it to receive the corn,
and oontinne this treatment until the
corn falls out. If you wear moderately
loose shoes, it will.be months, and even
years, before the corn returns, when the
same treatment will be efficient in a few
days. Paring corns is always danger
ous, beside making them take deeper
root, as does a weed cut off near the
ground; but the plan advised is safe,
- painless, and costs nothing bnt a little
I attention,— Exchange.
. TIMELY TOPICS.
The sacred right of petition has been
! vindicated to the extent of 10,167 peti
tions introduced in the House of Rem
resentatives during the Forty-fifth
United States Congress. They relate to
all sorts of subjects, and come from
i private individuals, aliens, corporations,
i literary, scientific, and labor-reform
| societies, boards of trade, State and
\ Territorial legislatures; in fact, from
; almost every branch of trade and in
dustry. Under the rule of the House
j petitions are not presented in open ses
| sion, but are placed on file, and as a
general thing are never heard of.
Sixty-nine libel suits for one libel I
Ambiguity has been the death of one
j poor paper in Marseilles, France. The
! Nouvelliste, of Marseilles, stated some
months ago that the tax receiver of St.
| Etienne had embezzled SIO,OOO. The
j proprietor must have had more than
one “bad quarter of an hour ” when he
discovered, as he very quickly did, that
there are sixty-nine St. Etiennes, towns
or communes in France. Every one of
the tax receivers of these places brought
an action against the paper, which has
been ordered to pay S2O damages to
each collector, besides S4O fine.
A “first exhibition circular” of the
Melbourne International exhibition of ■
1880 has been received. It contains
long lists of commissioners and commit- j
tees and the “ system of general classi- |
fication,” apparently based to a con- j
siderable extent n: on that of Philadel
phia. The president is th® Hon. Wm.
John Clarke, member of the legislative |
council at Melbourne. Applications for
space should be sent in not later than
June 30, 1879. The reception of ex
hibits will commence June 1, 1880, and
none will be admitted after August 31.
The exhibition will remain open for six
calendar months, commencing October
1, 1880, and closing. March 31, 1881.
Full particulars can be obtained from
James E. Denison, No. 123 Collins
street, West Melbourne, who will act as
general agent for American exhibitors.
A subject of more than ordinary in
terest is now nuder consideration by a
committee of the Medico-Legal society,
aud it is deemed probable that the re
sult of the research and report of the
committee will be the passage of a law
providing for the verification of every
case of supposed death occurring in
New York city. The wisdom and ne
cessity of such a law, the Herald re
marks, can hardly be questioned by any
one who has given the subject any care
ful thought; and so thoroughly is it
acknowledged by Europeans that' in
every principal country of Europe legal
cognizance is taken of the possibility of
syncope being mistaken for death. And
in nearly all, if not all of the principal
cities on the continent there is an officer
of the law whose duty it is to decide in
every case of apparent death whether it
is or is not real. In England and Amer
ica, however, no protection is afford
ed by the statutes against the possibility
of a live person being buried.
An original character, well known in
the Latin quarter, has j ust died in Paris
at an advanced age. Pere Royer, as he
was callsd, fancied he was an unappre
ciated genius, and amused . himself in
inventing new systems which were to
renovate society. He set up anew re
ligion, one article of which—and the
one that. rocured the most adherents—
was to make every other day a day of
rest. He habituated himself to eating
only on alternate days, and used to
argue that by sleeping twenty-four con
secutive hours and then working for a
like period, the same sum of labor
would be produced with a saving of food
and the time lost at meals. During the
late war Pere Royer invented a number
of means for annihilating the Prussians,
and never pardoned the war depart
ment for the indifference it manifested
toward his Greek fire, which he called
the “ prussovore. ” He was the author
of some songs, which were sung in their
time by the stndents, and of a poem
called “Le droit de boire,” which, un
fortunately for . him, he never found a
publisher to bring out. Like many
other philanthropists, he died in a
state of utter destitution.
Whoppers.
It was at a miner’s cabin in Tennessee;
a dozen or so of rough, uncouth, un
kempt-looking fellows sat over a stove
in an atmosphere redolent; with cold cof
fee and tobacco.
“Talkin’ abont your stories,” said a
grizzly, gray old fellow, removing his
pipe from* between two shaggy masses
o£ tawny hair, while his companions
gave each other significant glances—
“talkin’ abont your stories, why, y’ve
all hearn on Bill Hess, him as was
killed in ’76, a moonshining. Well,
Bill an’ me wus old cronies. A year
afore the war Bill, he swalled of a
peach pit. It trubbled of him a kinder, j
but no one thought ranch on’t; but
Bill’s appetite it got stronger and
stronger, till at last he’d eat and de- j
vonr of every think as what he could j
lay of his hands on. An’ the mystery s
abont the affair wns, that the more
Bill he would eat, the thinner did he
become.
“It wus six years arter that—yes, it
wns seving years—when one day Bill
he wus took with a gripin’ an’ a groan
in’. Snakes! how he kicked and yelled;
seving men couldn’t hold of him. No
doctor wus in the parts where we wus.
Well, he had conwulsions, an’ he had
| ’em right smart, too, I tell yer, and the
furst think we knowd, up came a small
cherry tree ”
“I thought as ’ow he swalled of a
peach pit ?” someone asked.
“ Well, so he did, and he disgorged of
a peach tree about three feet high—did
I say cherry ?—well, that wns a slip of
the tongue—with bloomin’ peaches on
it. And arter that Bill’s health cum
back to him, and he wasn’t afflicted no
more.”
“ I've got a story to beat that,” ex
| claimed a young, sprightly-looking
! miner, with a merry eye and a clear
'complexion. “Me an' Bob Jones we
! wus a travelin’ in ’SB, just about the
time that ere accident happened to Bill
Hess,and Bob be got a cinder in his eye,
which kinder annoyed him. It got wuss
i and wuss, till the poor feller hadn’t no
peace or comfort. One day, says Bob
to me, says he: ‘ Pete, somethink is
the matter with that ere eye,somethink is
the matter. It feels like as what it wus
gettin’ bigger and leavin’ of my head.’
“I looked at it.and sure enough there
wus a raisen-like sort of think on it.
Still it trubbled of Bob. Day by day,
that raisen-like sort of think growed and
growed, until it wouldn’t let the eyelid
shut. Mind ye, all this time Bob could
see just as well as ever, if anythink, bet
ter than nor before. The raisen like
sort of think growed and growed for
two years, when it had growed three
inches out of Bob’s eye. It was just
like a bush, with tiny branches and little
bits of leaves. Well, to make a long
story short, one night Bob turned over
on his face in his sleep, and in the
momin’ he found a little maple tree
lyin’ alongside of him, and the pain in
his eye and the bush wns gone. That,
, there,” pointing to a sapling just ont of
j the door, “is the tree which growed of
: the cinder what Bob Jones caught in his
I eye.”
The Preservation of Forests.
In an article with the above title in the
j North American Review , Felix L. Os
wald, after reviewing the disastrous ef
* fects which have followed the wholesale
destruction of forests in various coun
tries of the world, remarks that since
1 the year 1835 the forest area of the
| Western hemisphere has decreased at
j the average yearly rate of 7,600,000
j acres, or about 11,400 square miles ; in
the United States alone this rate has
| advanced from 1.600 square miles in
1835 to 7,000 in 1855, and 8,400 in 1876,
| Between 1750 and 1835 the total aggre
j gate of forests felled in South and Cen
j tral America (especially in Southwestern
; Mexico), and in the Eastern, Southern
| and Southwestern States of our republic,
i may be estimated at from 45,000,000 to
50,000,000 acres. In otner words, we
! have been wasting the moisture supply
: of the American soil at the average ratio
j of seven per cent, for eace juarter of a
| century during the last one hundred
1 and twenty-five years, aud are now fast
approaching the limit beyond which any
! further decrease will affect the climatic
phenomena of the entire continent.
If we consider how the agricultural
products of the eastern continents be
come from year to year more inadequate
to the wants of their .still-growing popu
lation, we may forsee the time when the
hope of the world will dependupon the
productiveness of thb American soil;
but that productiveness depends on the
fertilizing influence of the American
forests. If they are gone we shall ave
on earth no newer world to hope tor —
no future Columbus can alleviate the
struggle for existence. To stay such a
catastrophe the author suggests that in
every township, where the disappea-r
ance of arboreal vegetation begins to af
fect the perennial springs and water
courses or the fertility of the fields, a
space of fifty acres should be appropri
ated for a “ township grove. ” an oasis
to be consecrated forever to shade trees,
birds’ nests, picnics and playing chil
dren. In all new settlements, where a
remnant of the primeval forests has sur
vived, let the woods on the upper ridges
or on the summits of isolated hills be
spared by mutual agreement of the pro
prietors. In the treeless regions of the
great West not only the amateur socie
ties, but every grange and farmers’
union of every county, should devote
tuemselves to the work of tree culture ;
aud'every landed proprietor should see
to it that the boundaries of his estates
be set with shade trees, and that the
wooden fences be supplanted by quick -
set hedges. Let fruit trees be planted
wherever there is a’piece of ground
neither otherwise occupied nor absolute
ly barren ; and be sure that their influ
ence on the atmosphere in summer and
their fertilizing leaves in fall will more
than indemnify the adjoining fields for
the modicum of sunlight they may in
tercept. Any State where these pre
cautions should be generally adopted
wonld soon be so unmistakably distin
guished by the unfailing humidity and
freshness of its fields and the abundance
of its crops, that the sheer necessity of
competition would induce backward
neighbors to experiment, and be
fore long the maxim would not only be
generally recognized, but generally act
ed upon, that husbandry and tree cul
ture are inseparable.— Scien'ific Amer -
ican.
Women Druggists in Holland.
In 1865 a yonng lady of Zaandijk,
Miss A. M. Tobbe, wrote to the medical
commission of Northern Holland, asking
to be admitted as a student of pharmacy;
she desired to fit herself to carry on the
druggist business of her father, who had
just died, and which was about to be
eutrusted to a graduate with a diploma.
The commission answered her that her
request was so exceptional that they did
not think they had a right to decide it,
and advised her to write personally to
the minister of tho interior, M. Thor
becke. On the 25th of June, 1865, he
refused her request on the ground that
as article seventeen of the instructions
for druggists used only the pronoun he.
The law of 1866 upon the exercise of the
art of Healing was, however, more gal
lant than its predecessor and admitted
women as well as men to the examina
tion as either students of pharmacy,
druggists’ assistants or druggists. Hard
ly eleven years have passed since this
last medical law began to operate, and
already a hundred women have been re
ceived as stndents of pharmacy, and
when they have acquired the necessary
knowledge and satisfied the legal re
quirements will pass through the ex
aminations necessary to qualify them for
the right to open a drug store.
The examination required for becom
ing a student of pharmacy is itself quite
a serious one. It comprehends the
Dutch language, arithmetic, Latin, the
reading and application of written re
ceipts and some of the prescriptions of
the Pharmacopeia heerbandica, a theo
retical knowledge of medicine, a knowl
edge of simples by their exterior charac
ters, the origins of medicines, their
scientific names with their synonyms
and the preparation of receipts. The
fact is not very flattering to the stronger
sex that, on the average, the number of
masculine candidates refused is double
that of women candidates. These future
druggists, many of whom are thedaugh
ters of druggists or country doctors, do
not find their places only in their fathers’
offices bnt are in demand among the
drnggists of the large cities, in Amster
dam especially, and now in the phar
macies of hospitals, and commend them
selves by their habits of order, neatness
and exactness, which are rarely met
with in equal degree among their male
competitors. —New York Graphic.
Alligator-Steaks.
The following letter is from the corre
spondence column of the New York
Evening Pont: A short paragraph
about Achille Mnrat in the Evening
Post reminds me of some stories about
him that I have often heard on the gulf
coast of Florida. Only the older fami
lies remembered him, as he died in 1847.
His wife is buried with him at Talia
hasse.
“ With a Frenchman’s instinct for new
and rare foods, Murat himself cooked
and ate from nearly the entire fauna of
Florida. He used to cook adigator
steak in a way so delicious that no alli
gator in ail Florida would recognize it
as a morsel of one of his brothers.
Another of his experiments was in cook
ing the turkey-buzzard, the scavenger
of Southern cities. These birds are
among the best of flyers, soaring around
at a great height for hours at a time,
with no appearance of moving their
wings, which have a spread of about six
feet. But they are foul and disgusting
birds, always eating carrion food if-they
can get it; and I have seen great flecks
of them so gorged with such food that
they could not raise themselves from
the ground, and so were at the mercy of
any one who chose to walk among them
and knock them over. They are seldom
killed, and in most Southern towns and
villages are protected by law. Perhaps
their occupation is of value in that warm
climate in disposing of dead cattle, alli
gators ana fish. Murat worked faith
fully over his buzzard roasts and buz
zard frieasee until he could stand it no
longer. When asked how life liked it,
he said: ‘Oh ! I can eat any kind bird;
II am not affrate to eat anyzing. I have
no prejudice; but ze buzzard is no
goode.’”
About Bats.
There are perhaps a dozen species of
bats respectively designed to act their
part in different parts of the world, bnt
they are all winged quadrupeds, var
ons in size, corresponding to the du
; ties they have to perform and to the cli
mates in which they are located. Of
whatever species, the bat is mammifer
ouß. It suckles its yonng, of which it
has one or two at a birth, and its month
iis provided with teeth. It has four
j legs, but two of them resemble arms,
I and it has a tail extended from the ver
| tebr* Each arm consists of two long
! bones with an elbow-joint. At the outer
j extremity of the arm, as with a human
; hand, there are four fingers and a
| thumb. The fingers are long thin bones
attached lengthwise to a membranous
wing, which they expand like the slen
der whalebones of an umbrella—a most
beautiful aud effective arrangement.
The thumb projects, ami is an interest
ing member. It resembles a claw or
hook. By means of its two hooked
thumbs the creature can suspend itself
from branches of trees or other projec
tions, and is enabled to draw itself for
ward on the ground. The legs are
short, with knee-joints, and the claws of
the toes help tho thumbs in the matter
of suspension. Arms, legs, and tail are
all united with the membrane of the
wiDgs, and materially aid in propulsion
through tho air. Everything in the
general structure of the animal if sub
sidiary to the function of flying. Ihe
wings, however, are inferior to the wiDgs
of birds, such as those of the swallow.
But they perfectly fulfill their purpose.
Consisting of a membrane which wraps
the body like a cloak, these bat wings
are powerful in darting swiftly in a
series of jerks and zigzags in pursuit of
moths and other insects. Besides re
lying on its eyesight, the bat possesses
the advantage of an extremely delicate
susceptibility in its thin membranous j
wings which reveals the presence of any
insect it happens to touch in its flight. |
Had the wings been of feathers like j
those of birds, this important quality of 1
detecting insects by the slightest touch
would have been lost.
Numerous fanciful notions are enter
tained regarding bats. They are said to
be able to see in the dark, and that they
are bloody and vengeful in their nature.
As concerns seeing in the dark, that is
quite erroneous. Their power of avoid
ing obstacles when flying in darkened
places is not due to their eyes, but to !
that keen sensibility in their wings that
has been just alluded to. The thin
leathery wings of bats are their antenn®,
or feelers. Darting about in all direc -
tions in utter darkness, they are never
by any chance impeded or injured by
obstacles that happen to be in their way.
Experiments have been made by stretch
ing strings acioss darkened places in
which a number of them are confined,
and no string is ever disturbed in their
flight. The exquisitely-radiated system
of nerves in a bat’s wing offers one of
the finest studies in animal physiology,
or, we might say, in natural theology.
Shall a creature so ingeniously formed
be spoken of with sentiments of hostility
or derision ? On the contrary, it should
excite our warmest admiration. Artists
from time immemorial have been in the
habit of depicting malevolent demons
with wings on tfio pattern of those of the
bat—a piece of conventionality wholly at
variance with what is learned from a
contemplation of the actual facts in na
ture. The bat is no more fiendish than
the swallow or any other bird which has
been appointed to i;id the atmosphere of
superfluous and destructive insects.
The Trade in Birds.
A busy but quiet industry in this city
is that of the bird fanciers. A dealer in
canary birds says that last year ho im
ported 100,000 birds, which were readi
ly disposed of at fair prices. They are
generally brought from the Hartz moun
tain region of Germany. From the
large dealers a fine male canary with a
good voice can be bought for $3. Choice
specimens with extraordinary vocal
powers bring, sometimes, $lO. Female
birds for breeding purposes sell for sl.
Unscrupulous dealers,particularly street
vendors, palm off on the unwary the fe
males for good songsters, and only after
patient waiting do the owners, who
have been sold as well as the birds, find
it out. An amateur slight-of-hand per
former gives this as his method for ren
dering a canary tame enough for trick
playing: “ Take a young bird and put
oil of bergamot on his bill. It will
make him ‘as drank as a lord’; then
roll him in your hands until he is famil
iar with your touch, and put him in his
cage to come to himself. He can be
handled afterward at any time without
being at all frightened. Then the first
thing is to teach him to climb up your
fingers as a ladder, and to bop on your
thumb. Soon he can be taught to do
anything.”
Next to the canary the mocking bird
is most in demand. Those whose vocal
powers are well-developed are sold for
$25 and upward. The birds come from
Virginia and other Southern States, and
also from Mexico. The bullfinch is
highly regarded when well-trained. It
can be taught to whistle tunes. There
is one in Chatham, street which whistles
“Pretty Polly Perkins.” Its price is
$25. One which can whistle ten tunes
is valued at S4O. The goldfinch,chaffinch,
nightingale, lark and the linnets and
thrushes are also prized as songsters.
Of other birds not songsters, thirty dif
ferent species, kept as pets for" then
beauty or acquirements, may be found
in market. Of these the parrot is most
iin demand. A well-trained bird of
1 either the gray African variety, or the
j green American, is worth SSO, or even
SIOO. The most brilliantly colored
birds are the Australian paroquets and
; strawberry finely. —New York Tribune.
An Indian Funeral.
“ Ned,” a Digger Indian, was found
dead alongside the railroad track, near
Auburn, Cal., having apparently fallen
from the platform of a car and fractured
his skull. His friends being notified,
they placed the remains upon a norse
and conveyed them to Clipper Gap.
where they were duly cremated in the
manner customary with the red men of
that section. The funeral pile, which
is built of wood to the height of about
four feet, is kept burning about five
hours, during which time relatives and
friends place upon it such articles as
they desire to contribute to aid the de
ceased when he shall have arrived at the
happy hunting-grounds; one gives a
blanket, another a bow and arrow,
another a saddle, etc. When the flesh
has all been consumed and only the
bones remain, these are raked together
and a fire kept burning about them
until they also become ashes. When
the fire finally dies out the.ashes are all
collected and taken to the burial-ground
and interred, a little sugar-loaf shaped
mound being erected over them. The
female relatives of the deceased, as evi
dence of mourning, smear their faces
and heads with tar—the extent of the
application indicating the closeness of
their relationship—and this is left nntii
it naturally wears off. There was a
large attendance at '“•Ned’s” funeral,
every train arriving at the Gap bringing
a number of bueka an’d squaws. As
they were allowed to ride free, the train
men usually press tjie bucks into ser
vice when it is necessary to wood up,
but on such an occasion as this they
sturdily refuse, replying: “No work;
funeral to-day.”
YOL. V. NO. 29.
FOR THE YOliXtt FOLKS.
A Curious Pel
i A little more than half way across the
I dreary Tartar steppes, that extend im
| broken for eight hundred miies, from
the Russian frontier town of 0.-sk to the
! great inland, lake marked on Asiatic
! maps as the sea of Aral, the endless
I level is broken by a deep rocky gully
several hundred yards in length, on the
brink of which stands a long low build
ing of sun-dried clay, surrounded by a
thick wall of the same material.
The whole affair has such a primitive
look that it might easily pass for a huge
cattle-pen, but for the tw guns which
peer watchfully over its irregular
sides, and the glittering bayonet of a
white-frocked Cossack, who is standing
seDtry on an angle of the wall. This
little nest is “ Fort Karabutak,” one of
Russia’s Central-Asian outposts—a spot
so remote and desolate that one might
well suppose its garrison to have been
sent hither as a punishment for some
unheard-of crime.
At this delectable place do I halt
about four o’clock one glorious June
morning. I hammer lustily at the door
of a little mud-plastered log hut, which
has nothing but the black and white
stripes on its door-posts to show that it
is a post-house.
My Tartar servant, meanwhile, assist
ed my efforts by jelling at the top of
his voice, “ Ot ! ” (horses).
At length, just as we are beginning to
lose patience altogether—for in the
Asiatic deserts every minute of the cool
morning hours is worth its weight in
gold—a long yawn from within, follow
ed by a drowsy •* sei-tchMsx” (directly),
announces that the master of the house
is beginning to bestir himself.
Just at this moment, my attention is
attracted to a “ swinging cradle” of
genuine Eastern fashion, suspended
from the projecting eaves, in which lie
a brace of sturdy little children, brown
as hazel-nuts, and round as plums.
Both are fast asleep, in those extra
ordinary positions which none but chil
dren can contrive to assume. lam still
admiring the picturesqueness of the
group, when I suddenly perceive that I
have overlooked one of its most import
ant features.
Snugly curled up between the two
sleeping children, in the warmest place
of all, lies a round yellowish mass,
topped with a pair of pointed ears.
At first sight, its size and color might
make one take i* f or a large cat; but a
cat it certainly is not. Nor, as I look
again, does it seem like a dog.
The outstretched fore paws on which
it rests, indeed, are sufficiently canine,
and when I begin ’to caress it, it re
sponds by licking my hand in genuine
dog fashion; but that narrow head, that
sharp muzzle, that slanting greenish
yellow eye, surely never belonged to
any dog since the world began.
It is this peculiarity of the eyes
which, recalling my winter experiences
in European Russia, at length lets mo
into the secret. The bedfellow of the
postmaster’s children is a young wolf.
Just as I have made this disco very s
the door of the hut opens, and out come,
a big frowzy, shock-headed fellow, with
a huge red beard, who laughs loudly at
my look of amazement.
“ Aha, barin (master) “you haven’t
seen many children like that, I fancy I”
“ Where on earth did you pick it up ?’’
ask I, looking wonderingly at the two
children, who are awake at last, and be
ginning to pull their four-footed play
mate in the most unceremonious fash
ion.
“ Well, you see, last winter, a wolf
came prowling round here, and I had to
give him a taste of my hatchet. So,
when I’d settled him, I bethought mysel,
that the she wolf might’nt be far off, and
I followed the trail through the snow
till it brought me to the hole, and there
was the old lady, sure enough, and an
other tap of the axe quieted her, too.
“ But when I saw this poor little brat
whimpering over the body, I felt sorry
for it, somehow, and I concluded not to
kill it but to take it home for the chil
dren to play with, and now it gets a
share of their bread and milk in the
morning and of their blanket at night,
just like one of themselves.”
“ But you surely don’t mean to keep
it ?”
“ No, I’m afraid that, won’t do,” said
the giant, with a regretful shrug of his
huge shoulders. “ When it gets bigger,
and begins to find its teeth, then ’’ — a
significant flourish of the great brown
hand completes the unfinished phrase.
When I return from Hamarcand, three
months later. I find the sentence already
executed,— David, Ker.
Hrep by Step.
No matter whether the steps be “one
hundred and eighty,” or less, or more,
the safe rule for a boy to attain emin
ence in the world is always the same.
Said a father to his young son, who was
complaining that he had nothing to be
gin with, and shrinking from the “low”
position of errand-boy in a store:
“ Were you with me last summer,
when we visited Baltimore and went up
to the top sf Washington’s monument ?"
“ Yes, father; you recollect we all
went up, and little Fred was so tired he
could hardly gain the top. ”
“ Do you recollect how we ascended ?
Were we lifted from the street by an
elevator
“No, father. Don’t you remember
that a man let us in by the door, and
we went up by the winding steps ? We
had no light only that of a smoky lan
| tern, and it was a long time before we
: reached the top.”
“ And we got up at last,” said his
father, “after patiently stepping one
\ hundred and eighty times, one after the
! other; and were we not repaid at the
i top with the magnificent view which we
: enjoyed ?”
“It was perfectly grand!” said
! Thomas.
! “ Now, Thomas, as you ascended that
; monument, so you must rise in busi
| ness. You are now standing on the
j lower steps—you are on the steps—and
i there is nothing to binder yon, if your
health is gooJ, from standing on the
top. ”
Caffre Dances.
The usual signs of festivity in a Caffre
kraal is the slaughter of several sheep,
I which, when the members of the tribe and
their friends are collected together, are
cooked in their large iron pot, and eaten
with great relish and appetite. The
women sit apart from the men and elder
boys, and cook separately, and all await,
silent and dignified, the commencement
of the first course, when for a couple of
hours it is a continuous eating and
cooking. Having consumed a few
pounds each, a party of men advance on
a small slightly raised circle of tli%
ground. Holding the assegai in the
right hand, blanket or sheepskin csro6se
thrown over the left, they commence
going round in a circle, chantiDg and
. marking time, the emphasis on the right
foot. They strain ail the muscles of the
body in so doing, and contort the fea
tures of the face as they shake their
assegais. At "times one will leap into
the center of the circle, shooting and
going through warlike motions; then,
retiring to bis former place, the whole
party resumes the monotonous circular
motion. When they are tired, a fresh
lot takes their places, and so on. The
women have th&ir dance apart, and the
| girls also, apart from the married
j women, at the same time.
THE OGLETHORPE ECHO,
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Space. ]1 w[2wl4w|2ai|3m|6m|lyr
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Sheriff Sales, per lerj ss.<*
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Sale*, per square 5.0©
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ITKn 4 OF IMKIUST
New Mexico has 1,000,000 head /
' sheep, valued at $1,500,000; Colorado
950,000 head, valued at §1,000,000; Wy
' oming territory 225,000, valued at $450,-
000.
“ Mother is all the time telling me net
to bolt my food,” said the small box.
! “ and now she has gone and bolted n;
the cupboard that has got all the com
; pany victuals.”
On the Atlantic ocean, during the
i prevalence of a heavy storm, the ex
treme altitude of waves above the inter
vening depressions or hollov, s was found
to be forty-three feet.
The difference between the thermom
eter on a July day and a meadow laTk is,
that the latter rises three hundred feet,
; while the former goes up nearly a hun
dred degrees, above nothing.— N. ¥.
New*.
Nothing is more injurious to the
floors of a building than covering them
with painted floor-cloth, .which entirely
prevents the access of atmospheric air,
whence the dampness of the boards
never evaporates.
A confidence operator was caught in
the act of cheating a man at cards, and
boldly insisted that by so doing be was
only obeying the scripturat injunction*
When asked how ho made that out, he
said: “He was a stranger, and I took
him in.”
Two lover* t ihe gato;
They linger, linger, linger;
He bind* the ring of fate—
The ring of love aud fate—
With a kiss upon her finger.
—Somebody
One lover at the grate:
She linger*, lingers lingers, .
“Heigho! thi* ring of fate,"
She says, “I've seen of late
Upon six others’ finger*.”
LouisviUe Courier-Journal.
Select your object in life, and then
make it your great and constant aim ’to
attain it. This is the only true principle
of success in any department of labor—
the great principle acted 141 by men
who attain anything like eminence.
They select their object for the most
part in early life, and then pursue it
with unshaken resolution and firmness.
Foolish Every-day Questions— Askin’
the orange peddler, “ Are they sweet?’
Inquiring of your friend Smith as vo
what the weather is going to be in the
future time, certain or indefinite. De
manding What’s the news ?” with the
expectation of getting any answer other
than “O-o-h, nothing.” Hailing Toro,
Dick and Harry with “ How d’ye do V”
“ How are ye ?” as though you cared a
rush how they did or how they were.—
Boston Transcript.
The American Agriculturist, in an in
teresting article on the Texas cattle
drive, says: “The cattle go to the liver
for water at noon, with the exception ot
a few, which remain behind to take care
of the calves. One cow may often ho
seen watching twelve or fifteen calves,
while their mothers have gone with the
remainder of the herd to drink. Aftei
the return of the herd the ‘ watchers ’
take their turn. This interesting fact is
vouched for by several old ranchmen.”
David Crockett once visited a me
nagerie at Washington, and, pausing a
moment before a particularly hideous
monkey, exclaimed: “ What a resem
blance to the Eon. Mr. X.!” The words
were scarcely spoken, when he tu.ned,
and, to his great astonishment, saw
standing at his side the very man whom
he had complimented. “I beg your
pardon,” said the gallant colonel; “ I
would not have made the remark had I
known you were pear me, and I am
ready to make the most humble apology
for my unpardonable rudeness; but”—
looking first at the insulted member of
Congress, whose face was anything but
lovely, and then at the animal compared
to him—“ hang it, if I can tell whether
I ought to apologize to you or to the
monkey I”
Wanted to Purchase.
The bells had just struck three
o’clock in the morning when there came
a faint knock at the humble door of the
humble cabin of the -humble Widow
L-ybold on Woodbridge street. The
widow tnrped in her sleep and muttered:
“’Tis gome child of woe and Borrow
Come thne early here to borrow
Tea or coffee for her breakfast.”
The next knock wasn’t so faint. It
made the door shake and the dishes rat
tle, and the widow sat up in bed and
cried out:
“ ’Tissome loafer who is pouncing:
Ah! I bear hie voice resounding;
And I’ll chase him from my door."
The third knock was a kick, and the
humble Widow Layliold opened her door
with that prompt, decided action which
alone saved the battle of Waterloo.
Before her stood a tall, distinguished
stranger, and he said:
“ Lady fair, excuse this knocking,
Pray o’erlook this conduct shocking—
Kicking on your door.
Is your name Mirandy'Taylor,
Widow of a gallant sailor
Dead upon Lake Erie's shore ?”
The widow gracefully inclined her
head and deluged the stranger with a
pail of water, and he was rnnning away
when he fell into the arms of a police
man. He was permitted to sit by a hot
stove for the next five hours. Yet when
court opened the only dry spot abont
• him was his throat.
“ Did yon have the least idea that
Mirandy Taylor li#d there?” inquired
h : s honor.
“ Well, I don’t remember whether I
had the least idea or not. I thought I’d
inquire and see. I’m a great hand to
irquire.”
“ You are, eh ? Well, when you
come in sight of the house of correction
the driver of the Maria will answer all
inquiries. I shall book you for thirty
days.”
“ Julge, does it seem possible that a
man as wet as I am is to be incarcerated
in a hostile for simply inquiring for
Mirandy Taylor ? I’m amazed and as
founded. ”
“Thirty days is the sentence, wet or
dry. If you go up there wet they can
pack you closer.”
“And may I inquire, your honor, if
this is the nineteenth century ?”
“You may, sir; and you may get youc
sentence doubled if I hear any more
talk.”
“ I’m too wet to run any risks,” said
the prisoner to himself, and he went in
to hug the stove and wait for the car
riage to back up.— Detroit Free Press
Words of Wisdom.
Lame excuses seldom carry the crutch
es of plausibility.
Wisdom prepares for the worst, bn
folly leaves the worst for the day when
it comes.
Fortune turns faster than a mili-whtel.
They at the top to-day may be at the
bottom to-morrow.— Beecher.
Do yon know that a wise and good
man does nothing for appearance ; but
everything for the sake of having acted
well ?
The moment we feel angry in con
troversy we (rave already ceased striving
for truth, and begin striving for our
selves.
The latter part of a wise man’s life is
taken up in curingjthe follies, prejudh t s
and false opinions,he had contracted in
| the former.