Newspaper Page Text
THE OGLETHORPE ECHO.
Subscription Rates:
OneYatr $9.00
Six month* 1.00
Three Month* jg
Term* Cask in Aim. mac,
PodtlTelj no peper sn* tnSU Um meaty u peld.
Notice given eeoh snbserlber two week* before the
explrmtton of hi* time, end if esbeerlption la not
renewed, the paper 1* at onoe diaoontinned.
Any person who will send n* the of o T .
new *nb*criben, with (10 ce*h, will be entitled to
ene year’* subscription free. No dob rates.
The Subscribers
It was the old hubecriber,
Hi* eyea were old and dim,
Hut “ he wan’t takin’ no paper
That, was pokin’ chaff at him.”
For he picked hia paper up one day
And it went to his heart like a rocket;
“Whom the gods love, die young, it said,
But they whose hearts are dry,” he read,
“ As summer’s dust, burn to the socket.”
Then he looked through the paper with
wrath and doubt,
And his heart with anger burned;
For he lound a t had been lclt out
And he lound an o that was “ turned.”
And he lifted his voice with a mighty shout
As the sheet with his leet he spurned.
lie stopped his paper; he would not read
Such a blundering, villainous sheet;
Oi the news it contained he had no need,
He could hear the news on the street.
Only Urn days later, he sold his corn.
But he pounded his head lull of dents,
When he learned, alter selling for twelve
and a-hall,
It was quoted at lorty-two cents.
And his larm was sold lor taxes, because
Ho didn’t know when they were due,
And he bet. on a race three days alter date,
And he bet on the wrong horse, too.
He was fined nine dollars and seventy cents
For going out shooting on Sunday,
For he did’t know, with no paper to read,
Whether t’was Sunday or Monday.
He came to town to the Fourth ol July,
But it had been gone for a w eek,
And he lelt so mad, that he wanted to cry,
For he didn't know how to speak.
He thought that Grant was President yet,
And he never had heurd oi Hayes;
It was worry, and blunder, and*trouble, and
lret, %
All ol his weary days.
So he came to town, one summer morn,
And “signed” lor his paper again,
And went back home to his wheat and corn,
The happiest man among men.
—Burlington Hawk eye
THE TWO MR. SMITHS.
“It is not either her money or her
position tlmt dashes me, Carrol; it is
my own name. Think of asking Eleanor
Bethune to become Mrs. William Smith!
If it had been Alexander Smith—”
"Or Hyacinth Smith.”
Yes, Hyacinth Smith would have
done; but plain William Smith!”
“ Well, as far as I can see, you are not
to blame. Apologize to the lady for the
blunder of your godfathers and god
mothers. Stupid old parties! They
ought to have thought of Hyacinth;’’
and Carrol threw his cigar into the lire
and began to buckle on his spurs.
“Come with me, Carrol.
“No, thank you. It is against my
principles to like any one better than
myself, and Alice Fontaine is a tempta
tion to do so.”
“ I don’t like Alice’s style at all.”
“Of course not. Alice’s beauty, as
compared with Mrs. Bethune’s settled
income, is skin-deep.”
If sarcasm was intended. Smith did
not perceive it. He took the criticism
at its face value, and answered, “ Yes,
Eleanor’s income is satisfactory; and be
sides that, she has all kinds of good
qualities, and several accomplishments.
If 1 only could offer her, with myself, a
suitable name for them.”
“ Could you not, in taking Mrs. Be
thune and her money, take her name
also ?”
“ N-n-no. A man does not like to lose
nil liis individuality in his wife’s,Carrol.”
“Well, then, I have no other sugges
tion, and I am going to ride.”
So Carrol went to the park and Smith
went to Ills mirror. The occupation
gave him the courage he wanted. He
was undoubtedly a very handsome man,
and he had, also, very iine manners; in
deed, he would have been a very great
man if the world had only been a draw
ing-room, for, polished and fastidious,
he dreaded nothing so much as an inde
corum, and had the air of being uncom
fortable unless his hands were in kid
gloves.
Smith had a standing invitation to
Mrs. Bethune’s five-o’eloek teas, and he
was always considered an acquisition.
11 e was also very fond of going to them;
for under no circumstances was Mi’s.
Bethune so charming. To see her
in this hour of perfect relaxation was to
understand how great and beautiful is
the art of idleness. Her ease and grace,
her charming aimlessness, her indescrib
able air of inaction, were all so many
proofs of her having been born in the
purple of wealth and fashion; no par
venu could ever hope to imitate them.
Alice Fontaine never tried. She had
been taken from a life of polite shifts and
struggles by her cousin, Mrs. Bethune.
two years before ; and the circumstances
that were to the one the mere accidents
of her position were to the other a real
holiday-making.
Alice met Mr. Smith with empresse
tnent, fluttered about the tea-tray, like a
butterfly, wasted her bonmots and the
sugar recklessly, and was as full of pret
ty animation a#her cousin Bethune was
of elegant repose.
During the afternoon Eleanor’s
hand had rested a moment very
tenderly in his; he had seen her
white cheek flush and her eyelids droop,
and he felt almost sure that he was be
loved. And as he had determined that j
night to test his fortune, he was not in-;
dint'd to let himself be disappointed, j
Consequently he decided on writing to
her, for he was rather proud of his let- j
tors; and indeed it must lie confessed ;
that he had an elegant and eloquent
way of putting any ease in which he was
personally interested.
Eleanor Bethune thought so. She re- i
oeived his proposal on her return from
very stupid party, and as soon as she
saw his writing she began to consider
how much more delightful the evening 1
would have been if Mr Smith had been
present. His glowing eulogies on her
beauty, and his passionate descriptions
of his own affection, his hopes, and his
dost .airs, chimed in with her mood ex
actly. Already his tine person and
manners had made a great impression on
her: she had Iwvn very near loving him;
nothing, indeed, had been needed but
that touch of electricity conveyed in the
knowledge that she was beloved.
Such proposals seldom or never take
women unawares. Eleanor had been
expecting it. and had already decided
on her answer. So. after a short, hap
py reflection, she opened her desk and
wrote Mr. Smith a few lines which she
believed would make him supremely
happy.
Then she went to Alice’s room, and
woke her up out of her first sleep. “ Oh,
you lazy girl: why did you not crimp
your hair? Get up again. Alice dear; I
have a secret to tell you. I am—going
—to—marry—Mr.—Smith.”
“ I knew some catastrophe was im-
? ending, Eleanor; I have felt it ail day.
'oor Eleanor!”
“ Now. Alice, be reasonable. What
do you think of him honestlv, vou
know!”
” The man has exc lent qualities; for
instance, a perfect t te in cravats, and
an irreproachable opriety. Nobody
ever saw him in an position out of the
proper center of gravity. Now there is
Carrol, always sitting round on tables or
easels, or if on a chair, on the back or
arms, or any way but as other Christians
sit. Then Mr. Smith is handsome; very
much so.”
“ Oh! you do admit that?”
*• Yes: but I don't myself like men of
the hairdresser style of beauty.”
Oglethorpe Echo.
By T. L. GANTT.
“ Alice, what makes you dislike him
so much ?”
“ Indeed, I don’t, Eleanor. I think he
is very ‘nice’ and very respectable.
Every one will say, ‘ What a suitable
match!’ and I dare say you will be very
happy. lie will do everything you tell
him to do, Eleanor; and—oh, dear me!—
how I should hate a husband of that
kind!”
“ You little hypocrite!—with your talk
ofwcman’s ‘rights’ and woman’s ‘su
premacy.’ ”
“ No, Eleanor love, don’t call it hypoc
risy, please; say many-sidedness—it is a
more -womanly definition. But if it is
really to be so, then I wish you joy, cou
sin. And what are you going to wear?”
This subject proved sufficiently attrac
tive to keep Alice awake a couple of
hours. She even crimped her hair in
honor of the bridal shopping; and before
matters had been satisfactorily arranged
she was so full of anticipated pleasures
that she felt really grateful to the author
of them, and permitted herself to speak
with enthusiasm of the bridegroom.
“ He’ll be a sight to see, Eleanor, on
his marriage day. There won’t be a
handsomer man or better-dressed man in
America, and his clothes will all come
from Paris, I dare say.”
“I think we will go to Paris first.”
Then Eleanor went into a graphic de
scription of the glories and pleasures of
Paris, as she had experienced them dur
ing her first bridal tour. “It is the most
fascinating city in the world. Alice.”
“ I dare say, but it is a ridiculous
shame having it in such an out-of-the
way place. What is the use of having a
Paris, when one has to sail three thou
sand miles to get at it? Eleanor, I feel
that I shall have to go.”
“So you shall, dear; I won’t go with
out you.”
“Oil, no, darling; not with Mr.
Smith. I really could not. I shall have
to try and manage matters with Mr.
Carrol. We shall quarrel all the way
across, of course, but then—”
“ Why don’t you adopt his opinions,
Alice?”
“ I intend to—for a little while; hut it
is impossible to go on with the same set
of opinions forever. Just think how
dull conversation would become!”
“ Well, dear, you may go to sleep now,
for mind, I shall want you down to
breakfast before eleven. I have given
‘ somebody ’ permission to call at five
o’clock to-morrow —or rather to-day—
and we shall have a lete-a-tete tea.”
Alice determined that it should be
strictly tete-a-tete. She went to spend
the afternoon with Carrol’s sisters, and
stayed until she thought the lovers had
had ample time to make their vows and
arrange their wedding.
There was a little pout on her lips as
she left Carrol outside the door, and
slowly bent her steps to Eleanor’s
private parlor. She was trying to make
up her mind to be civil to her cousin’s
new husband elect, and the temptation
to he anything else was very strong.
“ I shall be dreadfully in the way—his
way, I mean—and he will want to send
me out of the room, and I shall not go—
no, not if I fall asleep on a chair looking
at him.”
With this decision, the most amiable
she could reach, Alice entered the
parlor. Eleanor was alone, and there
was a pale, angry look on her face Alice
could not understand.
“ Shut the door, dear.”
“Alone?”
“ I have been so all evening.”
“Have you quarreled witli Mr.
Smith?” •
“Mr. Smith did not call.”
“Not come?” ,
“ Nor sent any apology.”
The two women sat looking into each
other’s faces a few moments, both white
and silent.
• “What will you do, Eleanor?”
“ Nothing.”
“ But he may be sick, or he may not
have got your letter. Such queer mis
takes do happen.”
“ Parker took it to his hotel; the clerk
said he was st>ll in his room; it was sent
to him in Parker’s sight and hearing.
There is not any doubt but that he re
ceived it.”
“ Well, suppose he did not. Still, if
he really cares for you, he is hardly likely
to take your supposed silence for an abso
lute refusal. I have said ‘ No 1 to Carrol
a dozen times, and he won’t stay ‘noed.’
Mr. Smith will be sure to ask for a per
sonal interview.”
Eleanor answered drearily; “ I sup
pose he will pay me that respect;” but
through this little effort at assertion it
was easy to detect the white feather of
• listrust. She half suspected the touchy
self-esteem of Mr. Smith. Tf she had
meiely been guilty of a breach of good
manners toward him, she knew that he
would deeply resent it; how, then, when
shehad—however innocently—given him
the keenest personal spite.
Still she wished to aecppt Alice’s cheer
ful view of the affair, and what is heart
ily wished is half accomplished. Ere
'he fell asleep she had quite decided that
her lover would call the following day,
and her thoughts wCre busy with the
pleasant amends she would make him
for any anxiety he might have suffered.
But Mr. Smith did not call the follow
ing day, nor on many following ones,
and a casual lady visitor destroyed Elea
nor's last hope that he \yould ever call
again, for, after a little desultory gossip,
she said: “You will miss Mr. Smith
very much at your receptions.and brother
Sam says lie is to be away two years.”
" So long?” tusked Eleanor, with per
fect calmness.
“ I believe so. I thought the move
very sudden, but Sam says he has been
talking about the trip for six months.”
“ Really!—Alice, dear, won’t you bring
t hat piece of Bui slam pottery for Mrs.
Hollis to look at?”
So the wonderful cup and saucer were
brought, and they caused a diversion so
complete that Mr. Smith and his eccen
tric move were not named again during
the visit. Nor, indeed, much after it.
“ What is the use of discussing a hope
lesslv disagreeable subject?” said Eleanor
to Alice’s first offer of sympathy. To
tell the truth, the mere mention of the
subject made hereross. for young women
of the finest fortunes do not necessarily
possess the finest tempers.
Carrol's next visit was looked for witli
a good deal ofinterest. Naturally it was
thought that he would know all about
his friend's singular conduct. But he
professed to be as much puzzled :is
Alice. “ lie supposed it was something
about Mi's. Bethune: he had always
told Smith not to take a pretty, rich
woman like her into his calculations.
For his part, if he had been desirous of
marrying an. heiress, and telt that he
had a gift that way, he should have
looked out a rich German girl; they had
less nonsense about them, etc.”
That w.-is how the affair ended as far
as Eleanor was concerned. Of course
she suffered, but she was not of that
generation of women who parade their
suffering. Beautiful and self-respecting,
she was. above all, endowed with physi
cal self-control. Even Alice was spared
the hysterical sobbings and faintings and
other signs of pathological distress com
mon to weak women.
Perhaps she was more silent and more
irritable than usual, but Eleanor Be
thune’s heartache for love never led her
to thesmallest social impropriety. What
ever she suffered, she did not refuse the
proper mixture of colors in her hat. or
neglect her tithe of the mint, anise and
cummin due to her position.
Eleanor’s reticence, however, had this
good effect—it compelled Alice to talk
Smith’s singular behavior over with
Carrol; ana somehow, in discussing
Smith, they got to understand each
other; so that, after all, it was Alice’s
and not Eleanor's bridal shopping that
was to do. And there is something very
assuaging to grief in this occupation.
Before it was completed, Eleanor had
quite recovered her placid, sunshiny
temper.
“Consolation, thy name is satin and
l lace!” said Alice, thankfully, to herself.
THE ONLY PAPER IN ONE OF THE LARGEST, *MOST INTELLIGENT AND WEALTHIEST COUNTIES IN GEORGIA.
as she saw Eleanor so tired and happy
about the wedding finery.
At first Alice had been quite sure that
she would go to Paris, and nowhere else:
but Eleanor noticed that in less than a
week Carrol’s influence was paramount.
“We have got a better idea, Eleanor—
quite a novel one,” she said, one morn
ing. “We are going to make our bridal
trip in Carrol’s yacht!”
“ Whose idea is that?”
“Carrol’s, and mine too, of course.
Carrol says it is the jolliest life! You
leave all your cares and your bills on
shore behind you. You issue your own
sailing orders, and sail away into space
with an easy conscience.”
“But I thought you were bent on*
European trip?”
“The yacht will be ever so much
nicer. Think of the nuisance of ticket
offices, and waiting-rooms, and second
class hotels, and troublesome letters
waiting for you at your banker’s, and
disagreeable paragraphs in the news
papers. I think Carrol's idea is
splendid.”
So the marriage took place at the end
of the season, and Alice and Carrol
sailed happily away into the unknown.
Eleanor was at a loss what to do with
herself. She wanted to go to Europe;
but Mr. Smith had gone there, and she
felt sm - e that some unlucky accident
would throw them together. It was not
her nature to court embarrassments; so
Europe was out of the question.
While she was hesitating she called
one day on Celeste Reid—a beautiful
girl who had been a great belle, but was
now a confirmed invalid. “ I
to try the air of Colorado, Mrs. Bethune,
she said. “Papa has heard wonderful
stories, about it. Come with our party.
We shall have a special ear, and the
trip will at least have the charm of
novelty.”
“ And I love the mountains, Celeste.
I will join you with pleasure. I was
dreading the old routine in the old
,places; but this will be delightful.”
Thus it happened that one evening in
the following August Mrs. Bethune
herself slowly strolling down the
principal street in Denver. It was a
splendid sunset, and in its glory the
Rocky mountains rose like Titanic
palaces built of amethyst, gold and silver.
Suddenly the look of intense pleasure on
her face was changed for one of wonder
and annoyance. It had become her duty
in a moment to do a very disagreeable
tiling; but duty was a kind of religion
to Eleanor Bethune; she never thought
of shirking it.
So she immediately inquired her way
to the telegraph office, and even quick
ened her steps into as fast a walk as she
ever permitted herself. The message
she had to send was a peculiar and not
a pleasant one. At first she thought it
would hardly he possible for her to
frame it in such words as she would
care to dictate to strangers; but she
finally settled onjthe following form:
“ Messrs. Locke & Lord:
“Tell brother Edward that Bloom is
in Denver. No delay. The matter is
of the greatest importance.”
When she had directed the message,
the clerk said, “Two dollars, madam.”
But greatly to Eleanor’s annoyance, her
purse was not in her pocket, and she
could not remember whether she had
nut it there or not. The man stood
looking at her in an expectant way;
she felt that any delay about the message
might be fatal to its worth; perplexity
ruled her absolutely. She was about to
explain her dilemma, and return to her
hotel for money, when a gentleman, who
had heard and watched the whole pro
ceeding, said:
“Madam, I perceive that time is of
great importance to you, and that you
have lost your purse; allow me to pay
for your message. You can return the
money if you wish. My name is Wil
liam Smith. I am staying at the
“ Thank you, sir. The message is of
the gravest importance to my brother.
I gratefully accept your offer.’’
Further knowledge proved Mr. William
Smith to be a New York capitalist who
was slightly known to three of the
gentlemen in Eleanor’s party; so that
the acquaintance began so informally
was very speedily afterward inaugurated
witli all the forms and ceremonies good
society demands. It was soon possible,
too, for Eleanor to explain the circum
stances which, even in her code of strict
etiquette, made a stranger’s offer of
money for the hour a tiling to be grate
fully accepted. She had seen in the
door of the postoffice a runaway cashier
of her brother, and his speedy arrest in
volved a matter of'at least forty thou
sand dollars.
This Mr. William Smith was a totally
different man to Eleanor’s iast lover—a
bright, energetic, alert business man,
decidedly handsome and gentlemanly.
Though his name was greatly against
him in Eleanor’s prejudices, she found
herself quite unable to resist the cheery,
pleasant influence he carried with him.
And it was evident from the very first
day of their acquaintance that Mr.
William Smith had but one thought—
the winning of Eleanor Bethune.
When she returned to New York in
the- autumn she ventured to east up her
accounts with life, and she was rather
amazed at the result. For she was quite
aware that she was in love with this
William Smith in a way that she had
never been with the other. The first
had been a sentimental ideal; the second
was a genuine case ot sincere and pas
sionate affection. She felt that the
desertion ot this lover would boa grief
far beyond the power of satin and laee
to cure.
But her new lover had never a dis
loyal thought to his mistress, and his
love, transplanted to the pleasant places
of New York life, seemed to find its
native air. It enveloped Eleanor now
like a glad and heavenly atmosphere;
she was so happy that she dreaded any
change; it seemed to her that no change
could make her happier.
But if good is good, still better carries
the day. and Mr. Smith thought mar
riage would be a great deal better than
love-making. Eleanor and he were sit
ting in the fire-lit parlor, very still and
very happy, when he whispered this
opinion to her.
“It is only four months since we met*
dear. Only four months, darling; but 1
had been dreaming about you for four
months before that. Let me Hold your
hands.swcet. while I tell you. On
of last April I was on the.point of leaving
lor Colorado to look after the Silver Cliff
mine. My carriage was ordered,
and I was waiting at the hotel for it. A
servant brought me a letter—the dearest,
sweetest little letter—see, here it is!”
and this William Smith absolutely laid
before Eleanor her own pretty, loving
reply to the first William Smith’s ofter.
Eleanor looked queerly at it. and
smiled. “What did you think, dear?”
“That it was just the pleasantest thing
that had ever happened to me. It was
directed to Mr. AY. Smith, and had been
given into my hands. I was not going
to seek up any other W. Smith.”
“ But you must have been sure that it
was not intended for you, and you did
not know ‘ Eleanor Bethune.’ ”
“Oh. I beg your pardon, sweetheart;
it was intended for me. I can imagine
destiny standing sarcastically by your
side, and watching you send the letter
to one AY. Smith when she intended it
for another W. Smith. Eleanor Be
thune I meant to know just as soon as
possible. I was coming back to New
York to look tor you.”
“And, instead, she went to you in
Colorado.”
“Only think of that! AYhy. love,
when that blessed telegraph clerk said:
*AY ho s. nds this message?’ and you
said, * Mrs. Eleanor Bethune,’ I wanted
to fly my hat to the sky. I did not lose
my head as bad"v when thev found that
new lead in the Silver Cliff.*
“AYon’t you give me that letter, and
let me destroy it, AViiliam? It was
written to the wrong Smith and deliv
ered to the wrong Smith.”
“It was written to the wrong Smith,
LEXINGTON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, JULY 25, 1879,
o U n I L, waa P ven to the'right Smith.
Still, Eleanor, if you wili say one little
word to me, you may do what you like
with the letter.”
Then Eleanor whispered the word,and
the blaze of the burning letter made a
little illumination in honor of their be
trothal kiss.— Harper's Weekly.
The Amethyst.
The amethyst is a variety of the vitre
ous portion of the quartz family. It is
of a fine violet color, passing from white
to a deep purple, sometimes in the same
specimen. The deep purple colored spec
imens are frequently called oriental, even
by some jewelers and lapidaries, al
though the oriental amethyst is.an en
tirely different stone, as will be seen by
the description of the oriental gem which
is given below. The color of the ame
thyst is by some supposed to be derived
from a trace of oxide of maganese.
Later analyses however, have discovered
also silica, iron and soda. The amethyst
is found in India, Ceylon, Brazil, Persia,
Siberia, Hungary, Saxony, Spain, e#.’
A fine vein is said to exist near Kerry,
in Ireland. In Oberstein it is found in
a trap rock, in geodes of agate. These
geodes are sometimes as much as two
Feet in diameter, hollow and filled with
crystallized amethyst of a fine color.
Similar grades are also said to exist in
India. This variety of quartz, in com
mon witli some other of the vitreous
members of the family, possess a pecu
liar, minute, wrinkled or wavy fracture
on the fresh broken surface, resembling
the impression of the thumb on a waxy
substance. Sir David Brewster classes
all kinds of quartz having this pecu
liarity as amethyst without regard to
their color. This gem is found in pieces
of considerable size, and, from its beau
tiful color and play, is much used in
jewelry. Many years ago amethysts
were of considerable value, ranking
next to the sapphire, but immense
quantities having been sent to Europe
from Brazil, they became comparatively
common and gradually depreciated in
value. Latterly, however, the taste for
them has revived, and at present they
are gaining ground in public estimation.
On account of the cheaper cost of cut
ting amethysts in Germany, nearly all
are now cut there. This stone appears
to greatest advantage when set with
diamonds or pearls. By candle-light it
loses a part of its beauty, being apt to
appear of a blackish hue The name
amethyst is from the Greek—a negative
and inebriate—in allusion to the super
stition that this stone had the power of
dissipating drunkenness. Pliny says
that the gem was so called from the fact
of its approaching nearthe color of wine,
but not quite reaching it. In the middle
ages it was believed to dispel sleep,
sharpen the intellect, and to be an anti
dote against poison. In 1652 an ame
thyst was worth as a diamond.
The Oriental amethyst ruby or sap
phire possessing an amethyst color; it
may be distinguished from the ordinary
amethyst by its superior brilliancy and
play, as well as by its hardness, etc. It
is a gem of rare occurrence, and even
jewelers frequently confound it with the
ordinary amethyst. There are some few
specimens in the green vaults of Dres
den. There are also in the Vatican one
or two engraved intaglios of this stone
of very early date. Many sapphires, l
however, have an amethystine tint,
which oecomes very apparent by candle
light.—Detroit Free Press.
A Bagpipe as a Detective.
For nearly two years past a voung man
wearing the garb of a Highlander piper
has been wandering about in the coal
regions of Pennsylvania, playing his
pipes in the street, attending picnics and
dances, apparently depending upon his
instrument to make him a living. A
short time since he was playing in a
mining village on the outskirts of Scran
ton, Pa. A crowd had gathered around
him, among them a mine laborer named
Braidy. Suddenly the piper ceased the
music, and stepping from the crowd
seized Braidy by the shoulder and an
nounced that the laborer was his
prisoner. At the same time he pro
duced papers which he said were his
authority for making the arrest. Braidy
seemed entirely overwhelmed by the ar
rest, and made no opposition to the
authorities when it was revealed that
the piper was a detective. For two
years he had been on the track of his
prisoner, who is charged with having
murdered a wealthy man named Findlay
in Scotland in January, 1877. Braidy
was in the employ of Findlay. Early
one morning the latter was found dead
by the roadside, His skull crushed with a
club. Braidy had been discharged the
morning before for drunkenness. He
■had been heard to make a threat that he
would get even with Findlay. He was
nowhere to be found, but was traced to
Glasgow, where it was believed he had
taken a vessel for America. AYilliam
Male, detective, was employed by the
relatives of the murdered man to come
to this country'and search for Braidy,
who, it was thought, would bring up in
the Pennsylvania coal regions, where he
had friends working. One of Braidy’s
peculiarities was His love for the bag
pipe, so the detective, being a piper,
adopted the disguise of a Scotch piper’
played about in the coal towns in the
hope of some day attracting the attention
of the man he was seeking, he being sure
from information he had received that
Braidy really was somewhere in the coal
regions. The ruse succeeded after two
vears ot patient trial. Male is now on
liis way to Scotland with the alleged
murderer.
Noble Seats.
Louis Blanc told the following in a re
cent conference at Troyes: One day I
arrived at Versailles before the opening
of the session. An usher informed me
that two persons wished to see me. I
saw the visitors. They were two Ameri
cans, who presented themselves to me as
unknown friends. They had read my
books, they said, and wished particu
larly to see me. I thanked them, and
then, thinking that they probably wished
to attend a session, I offered them seats.
“ No,” they said; “all we want is to see
the chamber where the sessions are held,’
I conducted them hither. As soon as
they fcvd entered, without even casting
a rapid glance around to take in the ap
pearance of the chamber, they asked:
“Could you show us M. Gambetta’s
seat? ”
Much surprised at this curiosity I
nevertheless acceded to the desire of my
Yankees, and pointed out to them the
place where M. Gambetta, who had not
yet become the President of tiie Cham
ber, habitually sat. Thereupon the two
Americans, one after the other, coolly,
sedately, methodically, with closed lips’
serious air and fixed, looks, like men en
gaged in performing a grave duty
one demanding precision, sat down on
the chair, rose and sat down again,
one after the other, as if they were'test
ing the firmness of the seat. Stupefied-
I watched the scene, striving to under,
stand this singular manner of visiting
the Chamber ot Deputies, when one of
the Yankees asked me:
“ M. Louis Blanc, will you have the
goodness to show us your seat, also?”
Curious to watch their conduct at my
seat, I led them to it. AYithout opening
their lips, they went through the identi
cal performance, rising and reseating
themselves, each one in his turn, like two
gymnasts repeating an exercise.
‘AYhen it was over, each drew from his
pocket a memorandum book, and wrote:
“ Chamber of Deputies, Versailles. Sat
in the chairs of the Honorable Messrs.
Gambetta and Louis Blanc, Deputies.”
A brace of hungry tramps, espving a
sign on a restaurant reading, “ Meals at
all hours,” entered and asked the loan of
a breakfast. On being refused, they re
luctantly took their departure, dryly re
marking, “ Those meals are not at all
ours.”
THE NIHILISTS.
An Account which Shows the Terrible
State of Affairs,
Scene—At St. Petersburg.
Janitor —I can’t stand this any longer,
sir; I don't mind doing the duties ordi
narily expected of one in my position,
but I cannot be on the watcli .all the
twenty-four hours to see that the Nihil
ists don’t stick revolutionary posters on
the front wall. ve gone eleven nights
without sleep now.
Proprietor —But, my poor Ivan Ivan
ovitch, I did not make the law which
all owners of houses are obliged to obey,
providing for a fine of 500 roubles if a
placard is posted up on the premises,
and imprisonment if the offence is re
peated. Here, drink this coffee; it will
keep you awake. To-night I will go on
watch and you can get a good sleep.
Janitor —Thanks, my good master;
your nobly considerate conduct lends me
renewed strength.
An hour later the janitor comes in to
breakfast.
Proprietor—Great Todleben! where
have you been? Why, man, there is a
revolutionary placard pasted on your
back!
Janitor —Is there? I suppose I must
have closed my eyes for a minute or two.
They, have a keen eye for business, those
Niliil'sts. Let’s tear it up.
Proprietor—No; don’t tear it up, be
cause some of the fragments might be
found and we might be sent to Siberia
Burn it up, coat and all—l’ll give you a
new one. Now go back to your post,
and. for the love of Heaven, do not doze
a wink.
The janitor returns. The proprietor
watches him from the window, and,
whenever he nods, shouts, “ Now, then,
Ivan Ivanoviteh, keep awake!” In the
course cf the long, long, weary day the
police arrive.
Official—We have come to search the
premises.
Proprietor—But, count, T belong to
no association. I am merely a peaceful
citizen who passes his days and nights
watching to see that his watchman
doesn’t fall asleep.
Official—l have General Gourko’s
orders to enter your house and see that
you have no concealed arms.
Proprietor—All I-have is an old shot
gun without lock, stock or barrel.
Official—The Nihilists could easily
furnish you those. Your shotgun is
confiscated, and you may thank your
lucky stars that you get off so easily.
What’s in that drawer?
Proprietor—Knives.
Official—Knives! I confiscate them.
Proprietor—But, prince, they are
table-knives, and to-night I give a din
ner-party; my daughter is engaged to be
married, and this is to celebrate her
betrothal.
Official—You must eat with your fin
gers, that’s all.
Proprietor—But, grand duke, how are
we to carve the fowls?
Official—Tear ’em in pieces, or bite
out chunks—it’ll all be in the family.
Where’s your bedroom ?
Proprietor—Here, your imperial ex
cellency, and if you find any deadly
weapons in it I want to be sent to
Siberia.
Official—l might send you there if it
were worth the trouble,for here is a razor
which in the practiced hands of a des
perate man might be used to slay the
whole imperial family. I will confiscate
the razor.
(The family dinner takes place, though
under disadvantages, and the unhappy
man forgets all the trials and troubles of
the dav. At the dessert, just as he is
about to propose the health of the soon
to be wedded pair, he receives a note
couched in these terms);
You are a traitor! You have to-day
given up to the tyrants the arms in your
possession. You have therefore been
doomed to death by
Yours respectfully,
The Executive Committee.
per Tomski Collinsoviteh.
Proprietor (tearing his hair)—There!
That’s all that was lacking to make it
complete. Read that!
His Future Son-in-Law—You were
wrong, sir; there is a good deal to be
said on both sides.
Proprietor—Wrong! was I ? Perhaps
you are a Nihilist? (with bitter sarcasm.)
Ilis Future Son-in-Law—l have the
honor to be the chief of Section 217 and
I don’t care who knows it.
His Daughter—Yes, pa, and that is
why I 10-ho-hove him. (Casts herself
into her lover’s arms.)
Proprietor—Merciful heaverts! are you
a Nihilist too, Paulovna?
Ilis Daughter—Yes, pa, and so are my
sisters and my cousins and my aunts.
All the guests—And so are we—all
of us.
Proprietor—l will denounce you to the
authorities—call the police.
His Future Son-in-Law—lf you utter
one word I will fire this train and blow
up the house, which we had mined as
a precaution, lest the police should make
a descent on us while we were at dinner.
Proprietor—And here I have been,
passing my days and nights keeping
watch on my janitor.
Omnes—Your janitor! Ho, ho! Look
out of the window and see what your
janitor is doing.
Proprietor—May J he knouted and
sent to Siberia if my janitor isn’t cov
ering the whole front of the house
with four-sheet revolutionary posters!
(Faints.)
Can Cats Reason Z
Baron A T on Gleiclien, a German diplo
matist, used to tell a story of a favorite
cat as a proof that the feline race can
think and draw practical conclusions.
The cat was very fond of looking in mir
rors hung against the walls, and would
gnaw at the frames, as if longing to
know what was inside. She had, how
ever, never seen the back side of a mir
ror. One day the baron placed a cheval
glass in the middle of the room, and the
cat instantly took in the novelty of the
situation.
Placing herself in front, and seeing a
second eat, she began to run round the
mirror in search of her companion.
After running round one way several
times, she began to run the other, until
fully satisfied that there was no cat be
side herself outside of the glass. But
where was the second cat?
She sat down in front of the glass to
meditate on the problem. Evidently
inside, as she had often belore imagined.
Suddenly anew thought occurred to
her.
Rising deliberately, she put her paws
on the gian in L and then beliind,
walked r ™nd to the other side, and
measured the thickness in the same way.
Then she sat down again to think.
There might be a cavity inside, but it
was not large enough to hold a cat. She
seemed to come to the deliberate con
clusion that there was a mystery here,
but no cat, and it wasn’t worth while to
bother about it. From that time the
baron said she lost all curiosity about
looking-glasses.
Horsechestnuts for Rheumatism.
Dr. AY. S. Drake reports in the St.
Louis Medical and Surgical Journal that
he had an inveterate case of chronic rheu
matism cured by the patient bathing in
an infusion of horseehestnuts. The pa
tient had not walked for nearly two
years, and had gone through the whole
list of rheumatic remedies. AA'hile treat
ing a horse with the infusion of horse
chestnut he found the swelling to rapid
ly disappear from his hands. He then
applied the remedy to other joints, and
received the same benefit. This is cer
tainly an improvement on the practice of
carrying a liorsechestnut in one's pocket
as a prophylactic of the same complaint.
England has succeeded in beating
Parole by loading him down, and she
might, perhaps, beat Hanlan if she
forced.him to row with Senator David
Davis in the shell as coxswain.— Boston
Post.
FARM, GARDEN AND HOUSEHOLD.
Different Ways of Cooking Oatmeal.
A common kind of oatmeal cake is
made by simply mixing the meal with
hot water, add a little salt, and then
knead into a dough; roll out very thin
and bake on iron plates till quite dry,but
without scorching. Another, which we
are told is the true Scotch oatmeal cake,
is made as follows: Put half a pound of
oatmeal into a pint basin; put into a
teacup a piece of butter or lard the size
of a hazel nut, and a small pinch of soda
—about half a saltspoonful; pour on
this half a cupful of hot water; stir till
the butter and soda are melted, then
mix it quickly into the meal with the
point of a knife. When thoroughly
stirred together turn the dough on a
paste board and knead it compactly
with the knuckles, keeping it round and
flat, spreading it out gradually, but tak
ing care it docs not crack at the edges.
Then strew dry meal over itand roll out
with a erimpled roller, now and then
rubbing the surface with the hand to
remove all needless meal. When rolled
as thin as an old penny piece and quite
round—having the griddle ready heated
over the fire—put a knife in the center
and divide the cake in three parts. Lay
them on the hot griddle, the plain or
under side down, and as they begin to
cook move them in succession from a
cooler spot to a hotter, but not as hot as
to scorch. By pressing the nail on the
surface it will be known if they are
done. They will not be doughy when
done, and must then be taken from the
griddle and put on the toaster before the
tire. Watch that they dry gradually,
as at this stage they soon burn.
When taken from the toaster stand
them carefully on the edge till quite
cold, else they will sweat and lose the
brittleness which is their great charm.
Wliile the first set are cooking mix
another half-pound of meal in the same
manner, and as soon as one set is ready
to be on the toaster, fill up the vacant
place on the griddle with another. A
half-pound of meal should make six
cakes. A thick cake, commonly used by
laborers, is made by putting the meal
into a bowl, adding cold water until
mixed into a compact mass, and then
kneading into shape wholly by the
knuckles. The more dimples from the
knuckles to hold the butter in—with
which it is eaten —the better. Oatmeal
bread is seldom used in our country, but
is exceedingly nourishing, and is very
soon much relished when, like barley
bread, it is eaten warm with butter.
It i_s made witli warm water and
a little salt, much thicker than
the cakes. In Scotland this bread
is called “bannock.” It is “cake”
only when thin and first baked on a hot
griddle till stiff or dry enough to stand
on the edge, and then toasted before the
fire till crisp. The bread or cakes can
be baked in large quantities and hung
up, when they will keep a long time.
Oatmeal Pudding. Pour a quart of
boiling milk over a pint of oatmeal and
cover closely, leaving it to soak all
night. The next day beat into it two
eggs, and add a little salt; butter a bowl
that will just hold it, cover tight with
a floured cloth, and boil an hour and
a half. Eat with butter and salt, or, if
preferred, with butter and syrup. When
cold, slice what may be left and toast it,
to be eaten as opt e*ke buttered.— Mrs.
Henry Ward Beecher.
Household Hints.
Hot water, in mixing bread, causes
the bread to be full of holes.
When cheese gets hard and dry grate
it. Grated cheese is excellent.
The sun should not be allowed to
shine upon mirrors; it ruins them.
A weaver informs us that it takes one
and one-half pounds of cut rags to make
one yard of carpet.
W all-paper can be improved in ap
peaiance by rubbing soiled spots witli a
flannel cloth dipped in oatmeal.
To prevent the pie paste from soaking
the liquid contained in the filling of the
pje, glaze the under crust with a beaten
egg ■
White of eggs is more quickly beaten
if a pinch of salt be added to it. The
cooler the eggs the quicker they will
froth.
To open a fruit jar, loosen the rubber
from under the cap with tiie thumb and
finger, so as to allow the air to enter,
and it will easily unscrew.
Sweet oil, one teaspoonful; ink, two
teasponfuls; mix together; apply with
rag to black-leather bags, valises, trunks,
gloves or shoes as a dressing.
Lard that is disposed not to keep well
through the summer should be covered
in the pot witli strong brine. This will
insure its remaining sweet and good.
Broil steak without salting. Salt
draws the juice in cooking; it is desira
ble to keep these in if possible. Cook
over a hot fire, turning frequently, sear
ing on both sides; then salt and pepper to
taste.
Take bunches of ripe currants on the
stalks; dip them in gum-arabic water or
the whites of eggs, well beaten; lay them
on a sieve. Sift white sugar over and
let them dry. They are very nice for
desert on the tea table. Grapes, cherries
or plums may be done in the same way.
Renewing or Changing Old Tree*.
In an orchard there is generally a
number of trees that have proved worth
less on account of failure to produce
good fruit. In many cases a large
number of trees sold" by irresponsible
peddlers turn out to be entirely worth
less, and year after year the proprietor
anxiously seeks fruit but limit jjone.
After the trees have grown to large,
bearing size, it is hard for the unfortu
nate fellow to apply the epithet in the
Scripture: “Cut them down, lest they
cumber the ground.” There is no need
of this. Trees can be changed easily,
and be made to bear fruit in a few years.
If the tree is old, with a strong head and
large limbs, I have found it best to cut
off two or three of the leading branches
in the center, and let young shodts grow
one year. This will give you a dozen
or more healthy, strong limbs to graft
on the following winter or spring. The
grafting is done in the ordinary way, by
cutting off the young shoots and cleft
grafting and wrapping well with graft
ing cloth. After the young grafts grow
one year, begin to take off the other
branches, so as to let the new head have
the advantage. Yet it is not best to take
off too much at once, for fear of giving
the tree too great a shock and weaken
ing the roots as well as the head. The
objection to grafting on to large branches
is that it takes the wounds too long to
heal over, and the young head is apt to
be blown off at the juncture. If it is de
sired to change by budding, the same
plan may be pursued, as it will be found
much easier to bud into the young shoots
than in the old trunk. The best recipe
for grafting cloth I have ever tried is
found in Barry’s fruit book.— A. H.
Bradford, in Rural World.
A Brave Little Girl,
Mr. H. F. Gaulding has a little daugh
ter eleven years old to whose nerve and
courage he is indebted for the life of his
three-year-old boy. The boy was play
ing by the cistern in Mr. Gaulding’s
yard. There was a plank off, and through
this aperture the little fellow fell. He
caught a plank, however, in falling, and
held for some time before he was dis
covered. But his hold weakened, and
witli a splash he fell into the cistern.
His sister saw and appreciated the situ
ation. Most girls would have screamed
and run off in quest of help. Not so
with this little girl. The screams and
struggles for life of her baby brother
gave her the strength and courage of a
man. She saw a ladder, and, with all
her might, she dragged it to and placed
it into the cistern, and then went down
into the water, reached out and caught
her brother just in time to save him from
a watery grave. By this time help ar
rived and both were landed safely from
their perilous position. All honor to
•this little heroine! —Bainbridge (Ga.)
Democrat.
FOR THE FAIR SEX.
Chinese Beauties.
A Canton (China) letter-writer says:
I never could find out precisely what is
the great joy of a Chinese woman’s life,
but I think it must be the dressing of her
hair; and, truly, this is done with an
elaborate, artistic science, curious to
see. This hair-dressing is the one ac
complishment of the Chinese ladies, oc
cupying the same place that music and
drawing have in the education of our
own women. Their "hair is invariably
blaek and very long. It is drawn back
tightly from the face and stiffened with
a gum made from some kind of wood.
It is piled up in a wonderful pyramid
of bows, loops, wings, leaves, flowers,
rolls, all so Stiff that they stand alone
without the aid of pads, roulettes, puffs
or hair-pins. Not a single hair is astray,
the whole being highly polished, or, I
should say, veneered, which keeps it
smooth for nearly a week, when the
fabric is taken down and remodeled.
“How do tl.ey sleep?” asks a curious
reader. They have a small leather pil
low, which fits underneath the back of
the neck and keeps the head in a settled
position. ’ Others have a case or box in
which they put the whole head comfort
ably, and which protects the coiffure
from being disordered. It is, beyond
question, life most intricate structure
that could be reared .with hair, and
adorned with flowers and gems is both
an elegant and imposing head-dress.
Few women are taught to read or
write, whereas every boy is instructed by
the monks in reading and handling the
paint brush, with which their writing
is effected. I was surprised to find in
this so-called benighted country that
even the coolie chain-bearers could read.
It must be remembered, however, that
this much education is insisted uiion bv
the government merely to fit men for
the proper discharge of their respective
callings, and not from any abstract idea
of disseminating knowledge or “cul
ture ” among the masses. If a boy dis
plays quickness at his lesson lie* does
not necessarily aspire to become a clerk
instead of a coolie—a mode of progres
sion which, if universally carried out,
would leave the world without any
manual workers at all.
There are no spinsters in China except
the nuns, who dedicate their virginity to
Buddha. These ladies shave their heads
like the Buddhist priests and thus de
prive themselves of the only sign of gen
der—the hair is dressed ala teapot. I
paid them a visit in an old tumble-down
convent, more intricate of navigation
than even the* mandarins’lab>rinthine
palaces. They visit the sick and perform
ceremonies over them which are consid
ered alike beneficial for this world and
the next. These women are reared for
their calling, like the vestal virgins of
the Romans.
' Fashion Notes.
Jet is more worn in Paris than ever.
Hat and bonnet brims grow larger and
larger.
Gingham dresses find favor with ladies
of all ages.
Brims of bonnets may suit the fancy of
the wearer.
Parasols match the bonnet and dress
this season.
The Fanclion and the Maria Stuart are
the caps for young widows.
Caps grow more and more dressy, and
are more fashionable than ever.
Very small white muslin bows only
should be used for morning wear.
Large jabots, whether oflaee or muslin,
should be worn only in the evening,
White muslin hats, with fichus to
match, are shown for garden parties.
Laee and muslin scarfs are worn
around the neck, inside the linen collar.
Wedding gowns are trimmed with
small bunches of flowers, set at intervals
down the front.
Shirred muslin and Swiss embroidery
are made into large collars, to be worn
with summer gowns.
Long white scarfs, folded double and
edged with plaited Breton lace, are worn
witli summer gowns.
The bridal veil is worn over the sides
and back of the head, instead of covering
the face French fashion.
Byzantine point is anew, showy cot
ton imitation that washes well and imi
tates antique laee to perfection.
Leghorn and Tuscan straw hats are
the most popular as well as the most ele
gant of all the new productions.
Seal brown, dark blue, crimson and
black are the colors that are combined
witli white.in the striped parasols.
Throat bows of China crape, trimmed
with thread laee, are worn by women
who are sick of the everlasting Breton.
Common flowers, such as hollyhocks,
exlips, cowslips, dandelions, pansies and
daisies are becoming very popular both
in nature and art.
o Short bunohed-up Marquise polonaises
f Victoria lawn and other white sheer
fabrics are worn with short, black or
colored silk skirts. "
A foreign fashion is to wear white,
pale pink or blue satin dresses, band
painted in artistic designs by great mas
ters or sometimes by the wearer herself.
New breakfast caps have long tulle or
lace strings that cross in the back and
are brought loosely around the neck to
form a loop or bow in front on the
bosom.
The Boat Hermit of Tulare.
Amon the weeds and tiles of Tulare
lake, in California, may be found a man
who has cut himself off from all but
wild life. He is known as the “ Boat
Hermit of Tulare.” His name is James
Mac. Whether when he made one of
the throng the Mac was followed by
Adams, Duffy. Cullough or any one of
the hundred other names that usually go
with the prefix he cannot be lead to say.
He calls himself James Mac. He
spends night and day in his boat, an
ordinary lake craft, without sail or
rudder. In fishing and trapping he is so
expert that those who know him under
stand the by-phrase “as lucky as Mac.”
This odd character served in the navy
during the Mexican war, and in '49
joined the exodus for tiie gold fields of
the Pacific coast. He helped to survey
San Francisco- when it contained less
than a score of shanties. He joined
several bands of pioneers and marched
through the mountains and forests for
years, returning to San Francisco to find
that it had become a large city. Tulare
lake, in the distance, was the only
natural feature of the country,"a part of
which had been claimed and staked off
by him; so he built a boat anti vowed to
pass his life among the bulrushes.
Horses’ Coinfort.
The health and comfort of horses have
of late years been improved bv the bet
ter construction of stables. They are
made more roomy and lofty, and pro
vided with means of thorough ventila
tion. In many new stables lofts are
done away with, or the floor of. the loft
is kept well above the horses’ heads,
and ample shafts are introduced through
the lofts to convey away foul air. By
perforated bricks and gratings under
the manger-, and elsewhere round the
walls, and also by windows and venti
lators, abundance of pure air is secured
for the horses; while being introduced
in moderate amount, and from various
directions, it comes in without draught.
Too much air is almost an unknown
stable luxury. To secure a constant
supply of pure air, horses require more
cubic space than they generally enjoy.
Even when animals are stabled only at
night, a minimum of 1,200 cubic feet
should be allowed. In England, the
newer cavalry barracks give a minimum
of 1,500 cubic feet, with a ground area of
fully ninety square feet per horse; and
the best hunting and carriage horse sta
bles have more room .—Journal of Chem
titty.
VOL. V. NO. 42.
TIMELY TOriC'S.
A telephone has been placed in the
Congregational church, at Mansfield, 0.,
the wires leading to the houses of several
aged and invalid persons. It sur
mounts a floral decoration on the table
in front of the open platform, where it
is hardly seen. The speaker pays no at
tention whatever to it, yet every word
uttered in the auditorium is easily heard
in the rooms of the dwellings which the
wires reach. The first message from
the minister was from Scripture: “The
word is nigh unto thee“ His word
runneth very swiftly.”
When the Zulus rushed in on the
small British detachment of Col. Wood,
and while there was yet an open road in
one direction. Col. W eatherly, an Eng
lish cavalry officer, clapped his son. a
boy of thirteen—who was with him, on
horseback—kissed him. and told him to
fly for life. The lad jumped from the
saddle, striking the horse a lash which
sent it galloping oft’, and said: “ Father,
I'll die with you.” The father handed
his revolver to the child just as the
Zulus reached, over British bodies, tin
spot where they stood. Weatherly slew
five Zulus before he fell, but the son was
Killed at once.
Apropos to the inter-oceanic canal
across the isthmus of Darien, a corres
pondent in Buffalo writes to the New
York Graphic , suggesting the construc
tion of an enormous railway across the
isthmus, constructed and equipped to
carry ships of any tonnage. He would
have the track at each end of the route
run down into water deep enough to
support a properly built dock, so that a
vessel could ■sail into a basin surround
ing this approach to the track, and then
be docked and drawn across the isthmus
on wheels. The writer does not profess
any engineering skill, and modestly ad
mits that there may he difficulties in the
way of his scheme which he docs not
see. If so, otters will probably see
them. He thinks such a road mi-dit be
built for one-tenth of $200,000,000, the
estimated cost of the proposed canal.
The police statistics of large cities are
often more impressive than a long and
rhetorical sermon could be. Take those
of Chicago, for example. The annual
arrests number about 30.000, one-half
for drunkenness, and of the total, 6 000
are women, Without going into elabo
rate comparisons of figures, it may be af
firmed that Chicago is not greatly worse
tiian other large cities; it may not be as
bad as some others. At the oest we ob
tain a glimpse of an incalculable
amount of crime and misery ; and
when we remember that the influ
ence of evil examples spreads like-a con
tagious disease, the subject is seen to be
one of terrible moment. Mere preach
ing to those whose surroundings alone
render virtue almost impossible on the
one hand, and mere attention to physical
wants on the other, will not meet the
exigencies of the case. Nothing will
effect an immediate or general cure, but
there should be a union of all the
methods which common sense anil un
common charity can devise.
Strange mischances with fatal results
are daily happening here and there. A
Boston butcher ran against a knife that
lay on a block, severed an artery, and
bled to death. A Denver woman caught
her foot in a railroad frog, and could not
get loose before a train ran over her. A
Vermont farmer sneezed with a straw in
his mouth, drew it into his lungs, and
died choking. A horse kicked a Michi
gan boy into a deep well, where he was
drowned. The shoe flew off the foot of
a kicking mule, in Nashville, and frac
tured tie skull of a baby. An Oregon
girl swallowed her engagement ring, and
lived only a week afterward. While
standing on his head, on the top of a
high fence post, an lowa boy lost his
balance, fell into a tub of hot water, and
was fatally scalded. A stone, thrown
by a playfellow, broke a glass from
which a St. Louis boy was drinking,
driving some of the pieces down his
throat, and he died a few days afterward
in great agony. Looking up to watch
the flight of an arrow, a Nashville wo
man did not see it descending directly
over her head, and the sharp metal point
penetrated her brain through one qf her
eyes, killing her instantly.
A Pig’s Long Fast.
At the new mine, Little Bay, writes a
Newfoundland correspondent of tl*e
Montreal Gazette, a pig had crept in un
der the floor of a house built on sloping
ground, and when the foundation was
finally closed in, piggy must have been
wrapped in a profound slumber, in a
comfortable bed of shavings which filled
up partially the empty space. The house
was not finished and remained unoccu
pied during the winter, hence the noise
made by the prisoner on his awakening
and his struggles to get out were un
heard.
Finding himself in durance vile, the
pig, like a true philosopher, accommo
dated himself to circumstances, and
wisely determined not to tight against
the inevitable. He wrapped himself in
the shavings and went to sleep for the
winter. His mysterious disappearance
was commented on, hut it was supposed
he had lost his way in the woods, being
of a roving Oisposhion. He was a plump
animal and a credit to his ow.ier, who
intended to turn him into bacon about
Christmas, and it was fortunate for him
self that he carried a viaticum in his own
fat, on which he subsisted during the
winter. The house was closed in on the
22d of November, 1878. and on that day
“P'gsy was lost to sight.” All through
the following four months he slept
pu-eful)y, perfectly indifferent regard
ing the Afghanistan campaign and tile
Isandula disaster.
But with the warmth of April suns
his energies returned, he rubbed his eyes
and turned over, managing to utter some
feeble grunts. By this time the house
was occupied, and ttye inhabitants were
amazed at hearing these mysterious
noises underneath the floor of their
kitchen. Piggy began to feel the pangs
of hunger after his long fast, and Jits
grunts for release became more impera
tive. An opening was made and poor
piggy at length staggered forth, the
“ghost of his former self”—a walking
skeleton. His condition drew tears from
the eyes of the womau who owned him,
who only knew him by the peculiar turn
in his tail, which survived the destruc
tion of his tissues. Her joy over the res
urrection of the lost pet. was touching.
The news spread rapidly. The miners
gathered from all quarters to view the
wonderful pig who had lived for 142
days without meat or drink.
One of them more book-learned than
the rest remarked that “it reminded
him of the seven sleepers of Ephesus,”
but his observation was profanely
scoffed at by the others, as it was felt to
be an unwarrantable attempt to dispar
age the performance of their wonderful
pig, of which they had ail reason to be
proud. Piggy’s fortune was made.
Presents flowed in upon him. Delicacies
unheard of in the dietary cf pighood
were liberally supplied to nourish him
during his invalid condition. Warm
compounds of oa‘ meal and biscuit, fla
vored with delicious scraps and tip-bits
from kindly housewives, soon began to
tell on his condition and swell out his
lean flanks. His story went the rounds
of the mines, and everywhere awoke
sympathy and enthusiasm. Whether he
will be sent on for exhibition in St.
John’s I cannot say, but there can be no
doubt that an enterprising showman
would fidd it a paying speculation. The
facts, however, arc as I have stated them,
and the account I can guarantee as per
fectly reliable. Whether hibernating,
in the case of a pig, is anew fact in
natural history I am unable to deter
mine.
Railways are aristocratic. They i
teach every man to know his own
station and to stop there.
THE OGLETHOBPE ECHO.
Advertising Rates
8r ack. | 1 w|-iw|4w|-jj.|m|m|l7r~
t UK* *1.6 tl.fcCt* Uo|*4.io*6 UU 6u,512.00
* inoh 1.50 2.60 4.0 C 6.001 I.UIU.OU 16.-0
3 iDChM,.... 2.01 350 4.75 T.IO 8.00 14.00 22 1 0
4 inches 3.00 4.00 6.oft B.UU 10.00 16.00 2.X0
k column.. 4.00 .OU| 8.00 lo.oojio l 30.00 30.00
X column.. 8.00 12.00 15.0018 i 0.22 10 26.00' 66.,f
1 column 12,00 16,00 2-.Q0125.00;36.00 60.u0b00.00
Legal Advertisements.
Bberiff .- 6IM, per levy JS.OJ
Executors', Adminiatrstor' and Guerdims
Bale*, per square 5.00
Notice to Debtors aud Creditors, thirty days... 4.U0
Notice of Leave to Sell, thirty days 5 0 •
Letters of Administration, thirty days 5 00
Letteraof Diamissiou. three months 6.50
Letters of Guardianship, thirty day 5......... 4.t 0
Letters cf Dis, Goardiat.ship, forty days 6 00
Homestead Notices, three insertions 3.00
Uule Nisi’s per sqnsre, each maeruen. i.tO
The Emigrant.
She clasped her liands on my arms,
She laid her cheek on my shoulder;
The tide of her tears fell warm
On hands that trembled to hold her.
I whispered p pitying word,
As the ship moved slowly apart,
And the grief of the friendless poured
Its choking weight on my heart.
For graves in the evening shade
Were green on a tar-off hill,
Where the joys of her life were laid
With love that had known no chill,
But however her heart might yearn.
We were facing the freshening breeze
And the white wake lengthened astern
On the rolling floor ol the seas.
She quenched the fl-'e ol her tears,
Uplitting her meek, brave head.
“ Or dark or bright be the years,
I will take courage,” she said.
Smoothing back her loose-blowing hair,
And her shawl drawing closer the while.
So she drank in the strong sea air,
And left the old shore with a smile.
University Magazine.
ITEMS OF INTEREST.
Playing with dice is shaky business.
Low rents—Tears in the sole of a
shoe.
The knobbiest part of a house is the
door.
London has eighteen daily news
apers.
A mad dog is a pronounced instance
of cur-rage.
Venezuela produces 85,000 pounds ol
coffee annually.
A bycyclist in England re ently felt
dead while riding.
A doubtful complimentr—Telling a
clown that lie’s no fool.
Twenty-seven daughters cheer the
family of a Cleveland (N. C.) man.
Admission to the degree of a barrister
is subject to a lax of $250 in England.
The spur of the moment may have
something to do with the flight of time.
Two ‘amilies never, under any circum
stances, occupy the same house in
Arabia.
A teaspoonful of coal oil to a gallon of
water will exterminate all the insects
that inlest beautiful and delicate plants
and flowers.
At the national convention of brew
ers. in St Louis, a resolution was pa.-sed
to establish a “ Brewers’ Academy ” for
the purpose of “educating” brewers’
sons ana others in the “ science ” of beer
brewing.
Justus Schwab, a communist leader
in New York, lias recovered SSO dam
ages against Poliee Sergeant Rooney for
arresting him for keeping his saloon
open part of Sunday night, about which
the law is silent.
Milley Williams, a miser of Ensort
Crossroads, N. C., was accustomed to
invest her earnings in gold, one dollat
at a time. Her dwelling was recently
destroyed by lire, and lumps of incited
gold, worth about SIO,OOO, were taken
trom the ruins.
Smoke is not, as many persons imagine,
lighter than air. It is, however, carried
up by the heated air, which, being
lighter than the surrounding atmos
phere, is pressed upward. Smoke as
cends because it is intermixed with
vapors, gases and warm air.
It is known that the first aerial voyage
was made by Pilatre de Rozier, in com
pany witli the Marquis d’Arlandes. in a
Montgolliere, or heated air balloon, on
November 21, 1783. Pilatre was also
tlie first victim of aerostation ; lie per
ished along with his companion Roman
by the fall of a balloon at Boulogne.
“Whatare you looking for?” asked
one of the Widow Bedott’s two
daughters, who wer< entertaining their
young men on the piazza rather late one
night, of their mother, who seemed to
be hunting for something around the
front yard. “The morning papers,”
answered the widow. The young men
left.
The large collection stored in the
vaults of the Smithsonian Institution,
at Washington, are in a fair way to be
come exposed to public view one of these
days, work having begun on the National
Museum, for which Congress appropri
ated $250,000. The bu’lding is to cover
two and a half acres, and will be finished
next spring.
A rural bride of considerable beauty
went to Indianapolis on the honeymoon
tour. Her husband was manifestly
proud of her good looks. While they
were going about the city she was struck
in the face by a falling signboard, and
her nose broken. The attending surgeon
said that she was badly disfigured for
iife. “Just my luck.” the hu-band ex
claimed ; “ property always goes to ruin
In my hands.”
Razor blades (with the exception of
cast-iron ones) arc forged from east
steel, the bars being tilted to one-half ineli
in breadth, and a thickness equal to the
back of the razor. The blades are heated
in a coke or charcoal fire, and dipped
into tlie water obliquely. In tempering,
they are laid on their baeks upon a dear
fire, about half-a-dozen together, anil
they are removed, one at a time, when
the edges, which are as yet thick, nunc
down to a pale straw color. Should tin
backs accidentally be-orne heated lieyuid
a straw eolor. the blades are cooled in
water, but not otherwise.
Riches lake win*'*
And so do flies,
The cheeky things
Buzz in our eyes,
Fill up oar ear,
And nip and tuck
Without a fear,
And the best of luck.
Won’t some human try
And get through a bill
To choke off a fly
When he s got his fill ?
—New York People.
Tippling in France.
According to a New York paper, the
consumption of beer, wine and spirits
has materially increased in France, es
pecially within a few years, some i r
sons accounting for it, in part, by :he
national disappointment and mortifi a
tion at the result of the German war.
The annual quantity of wine drank is de
clared to be equal to thirty gallons to
each inhabitant of the country, while in
1838 it was not more than fifteen gallons.
The consumption of beer in the last
twenty years has increased three-fold,
and of liquor fully fifty per cent. France
is no longer a wine-drinking country
merely. In many of the northern de
partments, particularly among the
workingmen, cheap and very bad brandy
has come into common use. as it has also
in Paris and othe large cities. The
close connection between alcohol and
health and vice is shown by the in
crease of accidental and violent deaths,
of mortality generally, and likewise of
crime. In the districts where alcohol is
freely drank there are five times as many
arrests as in the districts in which the
inhabitants confine themselves to wine.
A number of cases of insanity, directly
traceable to alcohol, have declared them
selves in different parts of the country,
and thesq, until recently, were almost
unknown. The remark, once so fre
quent, “ You never see a drunken man
in France,” can no longer be made with
truth. Drunken men. though still very
rare compared with Great Britain anil
the United States, are now quite com •
mon; so common, indeed, as to attract
no attention. Americans who have
been there within three or four years
have noticed this, and, if they have been
abroad before, have l>een struck bv the
difference between what is and what has
beep.