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THE OGLETHOBPE ECHO. Subscription Rates: *uTr (3.03 Six month* j.oo Tb** Month* jg Tem* Ca*A in Arteamm. Vatxi rtly no ppr **n until th* taeaej U pnld. Kotlc* gtron each unbaorlber two week* jefore the expiration of hi* time, and If rabacrlptlon 1* not renewed, the paper 1* at onoe dlaoontinned. Any penon who will tend n* the Ame* of fire new subscriber*, with $lO cash, will be entitled to one year 1 * rabacrlptlon free. So club ratea. Wheat. MAT. So many shades ol tender green Are rippling, shimmering, pulsing with de light, Soft, crxri and billowy, like the glimmering sheen Of some grand river in the morning light, Thrilling with hope, it* life to lair, Its joy is full, all through the lovely May It simply grows and waves, nor tries to The coming burden of the harvest day. JUKE. Steeped in hot sunshine, lightly swing 'Hie long bright stalks, whose bearded heads hang down ileneath th< .r fruitful burden, which iho spring, liejmrting, laid upon them as a crown. Sweeter and graver life has grown, The green just touched to gold by deep’ning June, Warm, bright with glowing, with its mellow ing tone Flecked with the shadows of the afternoon. JULY. in serried ranks the golden sheaves Gleam iaintly in the sunset’s lading red, While some reluctant blackbird slowly leaves The fruitful gleanings for his quiet bed; And thus, with full fruition blest, The wheat stands reaped. It hath no more to yield, * And thankfully, before he seeks his rest, The weary re&pef gazes o’er his field. —Cornelia Seubring. THE CHILD SPY. His mime was Stenne, little Stcnne. He w;ts a “child of Paris,” thin and pale, and was ten, perhaps lifteen years old, for one can never say cxaetly how old those children are. His mother was dead, and his father, an ex-marine, was the guardian of a square in the quarter of the Temple. The nurses and babies, the old ladies who always carry their own folding chain), and the poor mothers, all that small world of Paris which seeks shelter from vehicles, in those gardens that are surrounded by pavements, knew Father Stcnne and loved him. They knew that under his rough mustache, which was the terror of dogs and dis turbers of lunches, was hidden a kind, tender anti almost motherly smile, anti that in order to bring it forth they had only to say to the good man: “ How is your little son?” For Father Steene loved his tittle son so much! lit: was so happy in the afternoon when, after his school, the little hoy woulti call for him, and together they wouhl make the rounds of the paths, stopping tit each bench to speak to the habitues of the square and to answer their good wishes. Hut when the siege began everything was sadly changed. Father Stenne’s square was closed and tilled with pe troleum, and the poor man, condemned to an incessant surveillance, passed his life in the deserted, upturned paths, quite alone, not permitted to smoke, and only seeing his little son late in the evening at his home. You should have seen his mustache when lie spoke of the Prussians. Little Stcnne. however, did not complain of this new life. A siege! Nothing is more amusing for such urchins. No more school, no more studies! Holiday till the while, and the streets as exciting as it fair. The child nut abput all day till night fall. He followed the battalions of the quarter to the ramparts, choosing those that had a good band. Little Stenne was well posted on that subject. He would tell you very glibly that the Ninety-sixth band was not worth much, but the Fifty-fifth had an excellent one. Sometimes he would watch the mobiles training, and then there were the pro cessions. * * * With his basket un der his arm he would join the long files that were formed in the darlfcold winter mornings, when there was no gas, be fore the butchers' and bakers’ shops. There, with their feet in the wet, the people would make acquaint ances and talk politics, and, ns he was Mr. Stenne’s son, everybody would ask him his opinion. But the most amusing of all were the afternoon games, especi ally the famous game of galoclie, which the Breton mobiles made the fashion during the siege. When little Stenne was not at the ramparts or bake r’s -hop you would be sure to find him at the square of the Chateau d’Eau. He did not play, however; it needed too much money; he was satisfied in watching the players with all his eyes. One especially, a great fellow in a blue workman's blouse, who only played with five-franc pieces, excited his ad miration. When he ran one could hear the coins jingling under his blouse. One day as he was picking up a piece tbn’ had rolled under little Stenne's feet, the great follow said to him in a low tone: “That makes you wink, hey? Well, if you wish. I’ll tell you where they’re to be found.” The game over, he took him to a corner of the square and proposed that he should join hitn in selling newspapers to the Prussians —that he would make thirty francs for every trip. At first Stenne was very indignant and refused, tutd what was more, he remained away front the game for three days—three ter rible days. He neither ate nor slept any more. At midnight he would see great heaps of gaioches piled on the fitot of his bed and iive-trane pieces moving over it, bright and shining. The temptation was too strong for him. The fourth dav he returned to the Chateau d’Eau, saw the large fellow and was overcome. • * * * They set out one sunnv morn ini. a linen over their shoulders and theirwwspapers hidden under their hlouses. \\ hen they reached the Flan ders gate it was yet hardly dawn. The large lellow took St nne by the hand and appr ia' \\ the sentinel—a good civilian with a red nose and kind air. He said to him, with a plaintive tone: “ lad us pass, my goou monsieur. Our >'■' her is ill and papa is dead. Wo are rxdng to see. my little brother and I. if w> ean t find some potatoes to pick up in the ti.dds." lie cried, and Stenne, who was axiamed. lowered his head. The sen ’-inel looked at them a moment, and then, giving a glance over the white, and 'sorted road, “Go quickly,” said lie to hem. moving aside; and then they were n tlie road to AuoerviUe. How the large fellow laughed! Confusedly, as though in a dream, lit tle Stenne saw the manufactories trans ormed into barraeks.their tall chimneys, which pierced the fog and seemed 'to reach the sky. fireless and battered. Now and again they would see a senti nel and officers who were looking far off through their field-glasses, ana their small tents, wet with snow, which was melting before dying tires. The large fellow knew the way, and would take short cuts over the fields in order to es cape the outposts. But suddenly they came upon a large body of sharpshooters too late to escape them. They were in their little cabins, hidden in a ditch half full o ' water, and encamped along the Soissons railway. This time, though the large fellow recommenced his tear ful story, they would not let him pass. As he was lamenting, an old sergeant, white and wrinkle . and who looked like old Father St< ne, came out of the post guard's cabin “ \Vell. little mes, don't cry any more!” said he to the children. “ we will let you go after your potatoes, but before you leave, come in and warm yourselves a little. * * * He looks frozen that small boy there!” Alas! It was not with cold that little Stenne trembled; it was from fear, from sh&me. • • • In the post-house they Oglethorpe Echo. By T. L. GANTT. found some soldiers gathered round a i small fire, a real widow’s fire, by whose j blaze they were thawing their biscuits !on the end of their bayonets. They I crowded close together so as to make | room for the children. They gave them a drop of wine and a little coffee. While they were drinking, an officer came to the door, called the sergeant, spoke to him in a low voice, and then ■quickly went away. “Boys?” said the sergeant, as he came back radiant, “there will be tobacco to-night. * * * We have found out the Prussians’ pass word. I think this time we will take back from them that Bourget.” Then there followed an explosion of bravos and laughter. They danced and sang and swung their sabers in the air. Profiting by the tumult, the children disappeared. Having passed the breast work nothing remained to be crossed but the plain, at the end of which was a long white wall filled with loop-holes. They directed their steps toward this, stopping every now ana then and mak ing believe to look for potatoes. “ Let us return j don’t go any further,” little Stenne said all the while, but the large one only shrugged bis shoulders and went on. Suddenly they heard the click of a gun being aimed at them. “Lie down,” said the large boy, throwing himself on the ground. When he was down he whistled and another whistle answered hint over the snow, and they went on, climbing on their hands and knees. In front of the wall, and even with the ground, two yellow mustaches under greasy caps appeared, and the large boy leaped into the ditch beside the Prussians. “That is my brother. 1 ' said lie, pointing to his com panion. He was so small —little Stenne —that on seeing him the Prussians began to laugh, and one of them was obliged to take hint in his arms in order to lift him over the breach. On the other side of the wall were large breastworks, fallen trees and black holes in the snow, and in each one of these was the same yellow mustache and greasy cap, tint! there was great laughing as the soldiers saw the children pass by. In a corner was a gardener’s house, easemated with the trunks of trees, the lower part of which was full of soldiers, who were playing cards and making soup over a clear, bright tire. How good the cabbages tint! the bacon smeit, and what a difference to the sharp shooter’s bivouac! Up stairs were the officers, and they heard them playing on flip piano and opening champagne bottles. When the Parisians entered the room a hurrah of joy greeted them, t hey gave up their newspapers, and the officers gave them something to drink and made them talk. They all had a proud, hard look, but the large boy amused them with his Parisian gayety and his gamin slang. They laughed and repeated his words after him, and seemed to wallow with delight in the Parisian mud he brought them. Little Stenne, too, would have liked to have talked and to have proved that he wtus not stupid, but something em barrassed him. Oppositi#to him, sit ting apart, was a Prussian, older and more serious than the others, who was reading, or rather seeming to read, for he never took his eyes off little Stenne, and there was in his glance both tender ness and reproach, as though this man might have had a child of little Stenne’s age at home, and as if he were saying to himself: “I would rather die than see my son doing such a thing,” and as lie looked at little Stenne the boy felt :is if a hand was clutching at bis heart and keeping it from beating. To escape the anguish he began to drink, and soon everything turned around him. He heard vaguely, amid loud laughs, his comrade making fun of the National Guards, of their way of going through their drill, he imitated an assault of arms in the Marais, and a surprise at night on the ramparts. Then the large boy lowered his voice, the officers ap proached nearer to him and their faces grew more solemn. The miserable fel low was telling them about that night’s premeditated attack, of which the sharp shooters had spoken. Then little Stenne rose, furious and completely sobered: “ Don’t tell that fellow, I won’t have you.” But the other only laughed and con tinued; but before he had finished the officers were all on their feet, and one of them, showing the door to the chil dren, told them to “ Begone!” and they began to talk hurriedly together in Ger man. The large boy left the room as proud as a doge, clinking his money. Little Stenne followed him, holding down his head, and as lie was passing the Prussian whose look had so dis turbed him: “Not nice that, not nice,” and the tears came into his eyes. Once more in tfte plain the children began to run and return toward Paris quickly. Their sacks were filled with potatoes which the Prussians had given them, and with these they passed the sharpshooters’ encampment without any trouble. They were preparing for the ttiglA attack. Troops were arriving silently, and were massed behind the wall. The old sergeant was there, busily engaged arranging his men with such a happy look. When the children passed near hint he recognized them and smiled kindly at them. Oh ! how badly that smile made little Stenne feel. For a momentjhe felt as if he should burst out crying and say to them: “ Don’t go there. * * * We have betrayed you.” But the othei boy toid him that if he spoke a word they would be shot, and so fear kept him silent. At Courneuve they entered an aban doned house to divide their money. Truth compels me to say that the division was honestly made, and, when he heard the fine crowns sounding under his blouse and thought of the future games of galoche, little Stenne thought his crime was not so dreadful after all. But when he was alone, the unhappy child—when at the gates of the city the large boy left him, then his poeketsgrew heavy and the hand that had "been grasping his heart held it tighter still. Paris seemed no longer the same to him; the passers-by regarded him severely, as if they knew from whence lie came.'and he heard the word “spy'’ in all the sounds of the street and the beating of the drums along the canal where the troops were exercising. At last lie reached his home, and, glad to find that his father had not come in, he hurried to his room and hid the crowns that were weighing so heavily under his pillow. Never had Father Senne been so good humored and joyous, as lie was that night on coming home. Good news had lieen received from the provinces: the country’s affairs were going better. Whilst he was eating, the old soldier looked at his sun hung on the wall and he said to the boy, with a hearty laugh: “ Hey! my son. flow you would go after, the Prussians, if you were old enough!” About eight o’clock they heard the sound of a cannon. ** It is'at Aubervil liers: they are lighting at Bourget!” said the old m in. who knew where all the forts were situated. Little Stenne grew pale, and, feigning great fatigue, went to bed. but not to sleep. The cannons were thundering continuously. He pictured to himself the sharpshooters going at night to surprise the Prussians, and fall ing into an ambuscade themselves. He recalled the sergeant who had smiled a* him. and saw him stretched out there in the snow and so many others with him! * * * The price of all that blood was hidden there under his pillow, and it was he. the son of Mr. Steane—of a soldier— His tears choked him. In the adjoining room he heard his father walking to and fro, and then open a window. Down in the street the rappel was sounded; a battalion of mobiles were getting ready to start. Then there was no doubt about there being a real battle going on. The unhappy boy could not keep back bis sobs. ' *• What is the matter with you ?” aSked his father, entering his room. The chi Id could bear it no longer; he jumped THE ONLY PAPER IN ONE OF THE LARGEST, MOST INTELLIGENT AND WEALTHIEST COUNTIES IN GEORGIA. from his bed and threw himself at his father’s feet. In so doing the silver crowns rolled down on the floor. “ What is this? Have you been steal ing?” asked the old man, beginning to tremble. Then, all in one breath, little Stenne told him that lie had been to the Prussians, and all that he had done, and as he was speaking, he felt his heart grow lighter: it comforted him to make the confession. His father listened to hint with a terrible look on his face, and when the story was told, he buried his face in his hinds and wept. “Father, father— !” the child tried to say, but the old man pushed him on without replying to him, and picked up the money. “ Is that all?” he asked. Little Stenne made a sign that it was; then the old man took down his gun and cartridges, and putting the money in his pocket, said : “lam going to return it to them,” said he, and without another word— without even turning his head, he went down into the street, and joined the mobiles who were startingoffin the night. He wa3 never seen again!— From the French of Alphonse Daudet. A Deed of Heroism. Perhaps the most daring deed ever won by old England’s Legion of Honor wtis that which was successfully per formed by Kavanagh during the Indian mutiny. Lucknow was b'-sieged, and its garrison was starving. Besides the little band of devoted men, there were also women and children cooped up in the Residency, at the mercy ot some fifty or sixty thousand savage and relentless foes. Daily, nay hourly, the little garri son was growing weaker and weaker, and nearer and nearer were pressing the dusky sepoys, until it became a matter of life and death to the heroic few that Sir Colin Campbell, who was known to be advancing to their relief, should be at once informed of their real state and their inability to hold out much longer. A volunteer was called for, a man who would consent tc be disguised as a sepoy, and who would risk Iris life among the mutineers, in order to make the best of bis way to the advancing army. The call was immediately responded to, and two or three men expressed their willing ness to undertake the task. From these brave volunteers an Irish man named Kavanagh whs chosen, who, lo his other various qualifications, added a knowledge of the enemy’s customs and a thorough acquaintance with their language. Tlid commandant shook the brave man by the hand, and frankly in formed him of the dangerous nature of the task he had undertaken; how it was more titan probable that he might meet bis death in the attempt. But the gal lant fellow persisted; and his skin was at once colored by means of burnt cork and other material to the necessary hue. He was then dressed in the regular outfit of a sepoy soldier. When night set in, lie started on his lonely and perilous mis sion, amid the hearty “God-speeds” of the famishing garrison. In his breast he carried dispatches for Sir Colin Camp bell, with the contents of which he had been made acquainted, in case of their loss. He succeeded, after many narrow es capes and great hardships—during which lie often had to pass night after night in the detested enemy’s camp, and to march shoulder to shoulder with them in the daytime; and when he left them, to swim across rivers, or to crawl through the tangled thickets where the deadly tiger asserts his sway—in reach ing Sir Colin Campbell’s camp; where, to finish his stirring adventures, lie was fired at and nearly shot by the British outposts. Kavanagh ’s narrative was lis tened to wit h rapt attention by Sir Colin, who immediately gave orders for the army to advance as quickly its possible to the aid of the gallant defenders of the Residency. How the latter were res cued is a matter of history. Kavanagh lived long enough to wear Iris cross.s though he lost his life shortly afterward in battle with the same enemy; but the noble example he left behind him was not lost on the brave hearts who event ually-saved India for England. What the Eyes See in Reading. M. J avel has lately published observa tions on the mode in which the eye “takes in” the successive letters on a printed page. We are not to sup pose, lie says, that in reading a line one ■ passes successively from the lower part of a letter to the upper part, then down the next letter, up the next, and so on, the vision describing a wavy line. The fixation takes place with extreme pre cision along a straight line, traversing the junction of the upper third of the letter with the lower two-thirds. Why is this line not in the middle? Because characteristic parts of the letters are more frequently above than below, in the proportion of about seventy-five per cent. That this is so, we can see hy ap plying on a line of typographic charac ters a sheet of paper covering the line in its lower two-thirds, and leaving the upper third exposed. We can then read the letters almost as well as if they had not been concealed in greater part. But the case is very different if we cover the upper two-thirds of the line; the lowest third alone does not furnish sufficient for recognition. The characteristic part of the letters, then, is chiefly in their up per portion. M. Javel next compares the ancient typographic characters with those of modern books, and maintains that the latter have too much uniform ity, so that, taken in their upper parts alone, many of them may be confounded in reading. The old letters, on the other hand, had each a particular sign by which they could be easily dis tinguished. Iu the books printed by the celebrated old publishing house of the Elzevirs the a, for example, had no re semblance to o, the r could not be con founded with the n. as now. nor the c or e with the o. the b with h, etc. This too great uniformity ; n the upper part of typographic characters should be cor rected, since it is to that part we chiefly look in reading. A Pigmy Painter. In a recent exhibition of old and cu rious paintings in Holland was a por trait of Oliver Cromwell. It was by no means a masterpiece of art, being a somewhat feeble imitation in style of Sir Peter Lely, the court painter of Charles I. of England. But it was a real curiosity in its way. Its painter was Richard Gibson, other wise known as the “dwarf artist.” Gibson was three feet two inches high. He was born in 1615. While serving a? a page for a lady at Mortiake, she no riced liis talent tor drawing, and caused him to be instructed by De Keeyn, the superintendent of the famous Mortiake tapestry works. The little artist became very skillful as a copier of Sir Peter Lely's pictures, and attracted the atten tion of Queen Henrietta Maria. She made him her husband's page, and mar ried him to a dwarf young ]adv of ex actly his own height, who waited on her.' The wedding of the dainty little pair was honored by the presence of the king and queen, and Edmund Waller, the poet, commemorated it by.a poem. h hen Charles lost his scepter and his head, and passed with his queen out oi English lines. Lis little protege lived and throve. He had painted the king’s por trait, and now was called upon to limn that of the protector. Cromwell re garded him with particular and kindly favor. On the restoration he again changed coats, and entered the service of Charles 11. He was drawing master to the Princesses Mary and Anne. But the wild court of the son of his old master : did not suit the tastes of the pigmy painter, now grown old. He retired to private life, and died in 1690. His wife. after giving birth to yine children, all of whom attained ordinary size, died in 1 1709, at the age of ninety LEXINGTON, GEORGIA, FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 1879. HOW lIE GOT HIS MONEY. Porter Leonard'* Journey Into the Wilds of Colorado.—A Woman’s Keen Wit aainst a Man's Vigilance and Pluck. The St. Ixtuis Globe Democrat says: Albert Lindell, the heir of the Lindell estate, who recently came of age, has exe cuted an absolute quit claim on all of Albert Lindell’s estate by his step-father and attorney in fact, Dr. Davis, in favor of Mr. Lindell’s mother (who is also Dr. Davis’ wife). During his minority Mr. Lindell had an allowance of only SSO a month, but he was' trusted to the amount of thousands 'by persons who hoped to get their pay on his attaining to his ma jority. He owed Porter Leonard, a sta ble-keeper, almost $2,000 for livery and cash borrowed. Suddenly, Lindell dis appeared, his step-father having taken him to Leadville, anu there he has since remained. In a short time the doctor returned and with him he had an absolute power of attorney over the whole of Lmdell’s estate. Several lawyers who saw it say it put every inch of Albert Lindell’s property completely under the control of Dr. Davis, as far as selling it, mortgag ing, raising loans on it, etc., were con cerned. In view of the transaction of the day before yesterday, it is pointed out by a number of lawyers that al though the power transferred was abso lute in the direction indicated, yet it did not give ttie doctor any authority to give a quit claim deed. A rather sin gular cieumstance is that the transfer to Dr. Davis was made on the very day “ Al.” Lindell became of age, March 24. The doctor lost no time in raising a loan of $12,000 or $13,000 on some of the property. Porter Leonard saw that he must get liis money now or never. He had pre pared a*demand note for the amount and started for Leadville, fancying that he could, in the absence of Dr. Davis or Mrs. Davis, who is the mother of Lindell, induce the latter to sign it. To cover up his tracks I ‘outer Leonard gave out that he was going east to the races. Only one person in St. Louis knew where he really tv’is going, and the object. In Kansas City the first person Mr. Leonard met in the sleeping coach going to Denver was Albert Lindell’s mother. The two were well acquainted. With a woman’s instinct Mrs. Davis divined what the livery stable man wanted, and her purpose to put him off the track was promptly made. Porter Leonard took in the situation at a glance. He reasoned thus: Mrs. Davis is going to see her son; she knows I am going also to see nim, and site knows I have a bill against him; that bill she does not want him to pay; she will try and give me the slip, and telegraph Albert to meet her at some place unknown to me: therefore, in order to see Albert, I must follow Mrs. Davis all over the country if necessary. Of course they had to speak.' Leonard broke the ice first, and the two chatted pleasantly, each perfectly understanding the other, and yet each endeavoring to conceal that knowledge. At an intermediate station Mrs. Davis stepped off and went to the telegraph of fice. Porter Leonard kept liis eye on her, and when she came out he slipped in unobserved by her. The operator was a lad of fifteen, and had not yet learned that great essential of keeping his mouth shut. “ Ah, ah, sonny, hard at work, eh ? Take a cigar. Can you Send a telegram for me to St. Louis? By the way,' that lady who wfis just in here is from St. Louis, and she’s a friend of mine. Now, I’ll bet you anything she sent a message to St. Louis and said sometting about me. My name is Porter Leonard.” “Why,yes,” the boy innocently re plied: “ she sent a message to Dr. G. W. Davis, St. Louis, and she said, ‘Port Leonard is following nte.’ ” “Just what I thought. Now send a message to John McCreery, Ninth and Pine streets, St. Louis, and say: ‘Am on train with Mrs. Davis; will follow her to California if she goes there ’ ” Porter Leonard wrote out this mes sage, handed it to the boy, gave him an other cigar, told him he was smart as a chain of lightning, and got on the train just in time. As the train neared Den ver Airs. Davis got very anxious. “What hotel are you going to, Mrs Davis?” Leonard inquired. Mrs. Davis said site did not know. “ What hotel are you going to?” sh asked. “ Don’t know.” The checkman came round. Porter Leonard said he would decide at the depot where he would stop; he thought he would go to a private house. Neither did Airs. Davis want her baggage i hocked. Porter Leonard stepped out on the platform, closed the door and peeped through the window. He saw Mrs. Davis buy a check. When the check man came out Porter addressed him: My fripnd, it’s a matter of several thousand dollars to me to find out where that lady is going to stop.” “ Well, she told me not to let you know. It’s nothing to do with me, but she goes to the Grand Central.” A more disturbed lady cannot be im agined than Mrs. Davis when she saw the burly form of Potter Leonard push itself into the Grand Central transfer. Mrs. Davis went to her room and sent for lie clerk. When he came down, ‘t Pori ” put on his most winning airs to the clerk, praised Denver and the Grand Central, and stood the cigars. The clerk yielded to the pressure. lie said that Mrs - Davis had told him not to let any body know r where she was going, and that she int-iusted him to send a dispatch to Albert Lindell, Leadville; that ..she was going in ihe morning to Pueblo’ or Cannon City, and that he must meet her at one of the places on receipt of another dispatch. Air. Leonard did not go to bed that niget. At early mom Mrs. Davis can down in traveling custume. She took the ’ bus,,and Air. Leonard*fol lowed. “Where are you going, Mr. Leon ard ?” “I don’t know, Airs. Davis. Isn't it strange we should both go by the early train?” Mrs. Davis did think it strange. She j said she thought she would take a trip on the Rio Grande road. “ Well, now, that’s odd; I’m going to take the same road, but I don't know how far I shall go.” Mrs. Davis went all the way to Pue blo. So did Mr. Leonard, and the two put up at the same hotel. A liberal amount of treating induced the clerk to reveal the fact ‘that Mrs. Davis would take the train for Canon City next morn ing at five o’clock. Mr. Leonard laft positive orders to be called up in time. The clerk neglected this duty, but Mr. Leonard was awakened at 4:30 by the discharge of a gun in the neighborhood. Hastily dressing, he went down stairs and saw Mrs. Davis get into the ’bus. From this point she two did not speak. In Canon City Mis. Davis gave up the game. She and Porter Leonard took the same stage for Leadviile, she being inside and he on top. Both stopped at ■the Grand Hotel, Mrs. Davis having telegraphed to her son to meet her there. In about an hour “ Al.” strolled in and went to the office. Porter Leonard slapped him on the shoulder and told him that his mother was up stairs. Mother and son had an hour’s confer ence. The sights of Leadviile were taken in by Albert Lindell and Mr. Leonard. When they met the next morning Albert wanted his customary drink, but his friend Leonard told him he had better not take any; that he had some impor tant business to transact with him. In the presence of a third party Mr. Leon ani told Mr. Lindell of the purpose of his visit. There is a demand note for $2.059,"'_ he said: “you know the account is Correct, and you must sign it ” Albert begged for time, but Porter Leon ard was inexorable: and he said he had waited long enough for his money. At last young Lindell consented to sign tic note, payable to his “ attorney in fact,” Dr. Davis, if Leonard would lend him SIOO cash. Mr. Leonard did this, and added the amount to the note. This business w r as transacted to his perfect satisfaction. Air. Leonard took the first coach for Webster, and returned to Den ver by the South Park road. Dr. Davis honored the note, and secured it by a deed of trust. The deed was recorded on the day on which it was delivered, and Porter Leonard is happy. Captain Falcon’s Devil-Fish. While talking over the incidents at tending liis cruise in the yacht Falcon, on the Gulf of Mexico, the other day to a party of friends, including a Tribune re porter, Captain Peter Falcon, the noted submarine diver, was asked if lie ever fell in with any of those terribly ugly looking monsters of the sea—the devil fish—whose appearance so malty writers have given inadequate descriptions of. As Captain Falcon remarked, the devil fish must be seen in all liis horrible mon strosity to be fully appreciated. He would not attempt tiny description of one, but lie told a thrilling narrative of the man ner in which himself and a companion captured one. It was about 4 p.m., on the 2d of last Alay, when the Falcon stood off the mouth of Tampa bay, her only occupants being her owner and master, Caytain Falcon and Fred Dawson, of South Haven, Mich., who had accom panied the former on the cruise. The trim and staunch little craft was bowl ing along at a fair rate of speed, when the captain discovered half a dozen devil fish going over the surface of the water faster than one of our harbor tugs when running “wide-open” after a tow. After repeated efforts to get near one of the Mephistopheles of the Gulf, they finally succeeded in approaching within ten feet of a fellow of fair size, and Captain Fal con seized a harpoon, and, with a well directed effort, plunged it into the mon ster so far that it penetrated its heart. Nevertheless the big fish ran for deep water as if satan himself was in him. The line attached to the narooon was paid out gradually and the yacht was plunging through the water with an im mense*: bone in tier mouth,” while in the wake of the flying monster the seeth ing and foaming sea was discolored with the blood front the fatal wound. The loss of blood weakened the leviathan so that the captain and his companion were enabled to check him, and lie was hauled up alongside and raised sufficiently upon the surface of the water to admit of a close observation. “ Well,” said the captain, bringing down his fist so as to express the stronger his astonishment at the sight, “it looked like the very evil one himself His mouth measured thirty-two inches in width and was opened eighteen inches. From tip to tip of liis ‘ suckers’ was sixteen feet, and about the same length from the tip of the nose to the end of liis tail, which was three feet long. We cut him adrift and let him go, thinking there was no life in him, but he bobbed his head up and down several times. Dawson said lie would like to strike one, and, after sev eral attempts, we succeeded in getting alongside of One of the biggest of the school. Fred drove the harpoon through the rear part of the fellow, and he came up on the starboard side and presented himself in all his hideousness. I tell you lie looked like the evil one himself, as I have been led to believe liis Satanic majesty appears, and he ran furiously and fast, taking the Falcon along at the rate of about twenty miles an hour. We paid out the line and let him go boom ing, and when lie got to the end of the seventy-five fathoms—the length of the line—he snapped it, like a thread and sped on out of sight. Why, I believe that fellow had ‘ suckers’ fully twenty four feet across, and he was awful to look at.”— Chicago Tribune. How a Baring Man Saved His Life. Of a Captain Akey,who killed a man in Nevada recently, the Eureka (Nev.) Leader tells the following story: At the breaking out of the war Akey was mining in Tuolumme county. California, and, with, a number of -other residents, vol unteered his services. A company was raised, all good men, arid he was elected captain. Much to their disappointment the government decided to keep them in California, and they were .ordered to Humboldt bay. Akey’s head was turned by the authority conferred upon him, and he began a series of petty per secutions which almost drove his men mad. They bore it for months, until it passed beyond the limits of endurance, and then they resolved to end it. This resolve took the form of a determination never to obey another command of Akey’s. This was nothing more nor less than mutiny, and was punishable with death; but the boys preferred that to the tyranny under which they had groaned and suffered so long. An order had been received to proceed from Humboldt bay to Red Bluffs, and Akey went by the way ot the ocean to San Francisco, while the company crossed the mountains. They were en camped on the bank of the Sacramento river when he arrived, and the crisis came as soon as he put his foot in camp, lie called the company out on parade and ordered all those who hart resolved to repudiate him to step two paces on the front. Ninety men, the entire strength, firmly took the steps. The sheriff of Tehama county was with him, and, turning to that officer, he asked if he would assist him in arresting the orderly sergeant. The officer replied that he would, and the two started to do so, when they were both covered with fifty revolvers, the ominous click of which sounded painfully intense. The sheriff took to his heels and never stop ped until he reached the ferry, a quarter of a mile distant, but Akey confronted the angry men as coolly as if nothing extraordinary was happening. The color never left his face, nor did a tremor disturb his equanimity, although he fully realized that the men were thirst ing'for his blood. Nothing hut his bravery saved him. for they had fully determined upon killing him, but as he an his eyc-s up and down the line and aid: “ Boys, the odds are too much.” they respected his courage,dropped their weapons and allowed him slowly to re tire. The upshot of the affair was that he was relieved of his command, and, after an investigation of the circum stances, was discharged from the service. There was at first a determination on the part of the government to court martial the. soldiers, but the offence was finally condoned and they served out tlicir enlistment. It is the only instance of the kind on record of a mutiny going unpunished. The Author of Cheap Postage. Probably not one person in a thousand in the United States is aware that the so justly celebrated Sir Rowland Hill, who was tlie means of the introduction of the penny postage system into Great Britain and Ireland, is still living. But such is the case. Though born near Birming ham in 1705. and consequently an octo genarian and four years better, he is still in good health and in the full possession of his faculties. The Court of Common Council of London, having regard to the vast bene fits conferred upon the commercial com munity by those measures of postal re - form with which his name will ever be associated, has paid him a graceful com pliment by sending a deputation to bis house at Hampstead to confer upon him the freedom of the city of London. The veteran reformer replied at some length, saying, among other things, that alerter could now be sent from Egypt to San Francisco for a smaller sum than in 1639 was charged on a letter coming from the city of London to Hampstead a distan of a few miles. It was in 1837 that Sir Rowland pub lished a pamphlet first developing his new postal system; in 1838 it was re commended by a parliamentary com mittee tor adoption: and in 1840 penny postage was carried into effect. In 1646 lie received a testimonial from the public amounting to $66,800, and was subse quently made secretary of the general postoffice. —Chicagi N&rSi TIMELY TOPICS. The Science of Health says: “If farm ers would avoid suddenly cooling the body after great exertions, if they would be careful not to go with wet clothing and wet feet, and if they would not over cat when in that exhausted condition, and bathe daily, using much friction, they would have little or no rheuma tism.” A Zululand letter says that the Prince Imperial died fighting, and must have sold his life dearly. In the right hand of the corpse was found a tuft of hair, of native fiber, while the path marked by the Zulus in quitting the fatal spot was stained for a huriflred yards with gouts of blood, supposed to have dropped from wounded men being borne away by tlieir comrades. The Scientific American says that the narrowest gauge and the cheapest rail way as yet brought out is that of D. B. James, Visalia, Cal. Two stout bars of wood, so laid as to leave a groove be tween them, form the track. On this track a wheel with a bulge in the mid dle of its periphery that fits the groove is used, the wheel having a broad flange at each side of the bulge. One of these wheels placed at each end of a plank forms the ear. It is alleged that twelve miles an hour can be got out of a wooden railway of this construction; and that its carrying capacity is very great. The cost is estimated at one thousand dollars a mile. For a year or two past the newspapers have been printing long lists of the great and universal evils predicted by astrolo gers and astronomers to follow a cer tain extraordinary conjunction of four planets in 1881. But now comes the Washington critic with the assertion that it litis interviewed Professor Simon Newcomb on the subject, and he says that there will be no such conjunction— that instead of marshaling themselves in an order unprecedented since the date assigned to the creation of the world in the Mosaic chronology, the planets dur ing the year 1881 will continue the even tenor of their way. and present no phe nomenon'that can be considered at all remarkable. The Mexican government is trying to replenish itsexhaAted treasury by levy ing a heavy internal tax on the cotton and woolen manufactures of that coun try. These manufactures amount to about $200,00,000 a year, and the government thinks that the manu facturers can afford to pay at least $500,000 in internal taxes. In order to protect the home manufacturers from disastrous foreign competition, the tariff on American and English goods is proportionately increased. The new tax is, However, very unpopular, the manu facturers, tradesmen and people being all opposed to it, as they are all affected by it, and some of the manufacturers threaten to close their mills altogotlier. People who do not read the shipping lists or have occasion to cruise about the harbor, says a New York paper, may be surprised to learn that of foreign vessels arriving at the port of New York, Nor way has more than any country save Great Britain, and Italy follows closely after Norway. Seamanship is not a mat ter of climate in Europe. The Genoese, the Neapolitan and the Sicilian take to the salt water as readily as the dwellers by the Norway fiords. The favorite Italian build for vessels is the stubby brig, but the Norwegians prefer the bark, and usually model a more graceful hull. Both nations are sharp competi tors for the jobbing trade of navigaton. Their vessels are small and are com manded by shrewd, tliifty captains who are quick to pick up a cargo for any quar ter of the world if a trifling profit van be earned. The cheap construction of these crafts twtd the low wages of the seamen enable them to earn money for their owners at rates of freightage that would be unprofitable for our well-built and well-manned American ships. Alany of them founder at sea every year owing; to their flimsy build, but there are plenty of new ones to take their places. The Mai Ninlii Shinbun, a Japanese newspaper, tells a sSxiry which ought to be interesting to ethnologists, who claim that some of the American Indian tribes are descended from persons who were carried to this continent against their wih by the storms of the ocean. About forty years ago Yamamoto Otokichi, a native of Onohara-mura Chitagori, in the province of Owari, Japan, who fol lowed the sea, was, while sailing with two companions between Tokio and Na goya, carried by a typhoon to the Ameri can coast. They landed on the shores of the Pacific, and were hospitably received by the Indians. An English ship subse quently took Otokichi back to Japan, but the Japanese laws at that time for bade any Japanese who had departed from his country to return to it under penalty of death. The English vessel, therefore, took their passenger to Shang hai. There Otokichi married. lie sub sequently went to Signnpore, where he resided until his death. He had one son, who assumed the English name of John W. Hudson, but it was the father's earnest wish that he should go back to Japan, and become a Japanese subject . Mr. Hudson accordingly made an appli cation to the authorities in Japan for leave to be naturalized. The petition was granted, and Mr. Hudson lias since ' been appointed to a government office. Emigrant Icelanders. Among the passengers landed at Cas tle Garden, New York, by the ocean steamer Anchoria, were fourteen fam ilies of Icelanders, consisting of seventy six persons. They are the first large batch of Icelanders that ever arrived at New York, and it is their intention to go to Minnesota, where they will found a colony, which will be further increased by emigration if the pioneers should find success in their new homes. They had a very pleasant voyage, keeping altogether apart from the other passengers, and the only thing that happened to mar their journey was the death of Kiesteum Ryensen, an old lady of the party, who died at sea iust previous to the ship’s arrival. The Icelanders seemed very much pleased when they had been landed at Castle Garden and expressed themselves so to the interpreter. They complained, however, of the warm climate, and, seemingly, not without just cause, as they were wrapped in heavy Arctic clothing, which they seemed very re luctant to relinquish. The party con sists of about thirty middle-aged ..ersons with a great many children. They all spoke in the Norwegian tongue. The men were short of stature and seemed to be intelligent. They were dressed in heavy pea jackets, coarse trousers, thick flannel shirts and caps with ap pendages for the ears. The women wore woolen dresses and heavy woolen shawls, and instead of hats they had a sort of head dress consisting of a round piece of black cloth resting on the top of the head, from which depended a long black tassel attached by a silver band, which swayed to and fro in re sponse to the movements of the wearer. The children were also dressed in heavy clothing and, # as well as the women, wore moccasins instead of shoes. The party bring some money with them, one person having 51,“55 and the others sums‘ranging from 5125 to §750. They seem to be very simple and confiding people, and were perfectly satisfied with all that the authorities did for them in the way of exchanging money and pro curing railway passage. The Icelanders left Castle Garden for Minnesota, by way of the Pennsylvania railroad.— New York Herald. A Romantic Marriage. A gentleman doing business at Benton, California, was married recently at the Ormsby House, in Carson, to a hand some and charming young lady from Boston. This alone would naturally be considered a too commonplace affair to be styled a romantic one, as men do very often get married to charming girls; some find that slate a path strewn with roses, and others again find in it a foretaste of the sulphuric existence. The marriage referred to herein, how ever, turns out to be a very happy one, to which some real romance is attached. A prominent government official who recently visited this city was on the train with the young lady, and from him the following is gleaned : She was very attractive, possessing a great fund of refined humor and fascinating con versational faculties; everything de noted her to be an admirable young lady. She stated that she came from Boston, and had no hesitancy about in forming those who asked respecting her destination, that she expected to meet a gentleman friend at Wadsworth, with whom she would proceed to Carson. Her manners were so captivating that everybody on the train paid her great attention; but one thing seemed to puzzle her fellow passengers, and that was a large bright red rose fastened to the left side of her hat, which was so far from harmonizing with the re mainder of her modest and tasteful at tire. When the train reached Wads worth a gentleman boarded it. He was neatly attired, with one exception, and that was a flaming red silk handker chief enveloping his neck. The young lady from Boston cordially greeted the gentleman, as if they had been life-long friends. The odd coincident features in the attire of both the lady and gen tleman set the passengers on the train to conjecturing as to what they signified, and _ one gentleman who had been specially kind and attentive to the young lady was taken into her confi dence, to whom she revealed the fact that the gentleman with the red handker chief was to be her husband. Neither the lady or gentleman had ever met before, in fact, had not even exchanged pictures, but corresponded with each other for a long while, until their ap parent intellectual attainments had formed a bond of affection $ which re sulted in their marriage. It was stipu lated that the gentleman should meet his affianced at Wadsworth, and, to en able them to recognize each other, the lady was to wear the red rose in her hat, and he to clothe his neck in a similarly colored silk handkerchief. This bit of romance soon made the rounds of the whole train, and there being no question as to the high re spectability of the couple, they were the recipients of the warmest congratula tions and expressions of best wishes from the other ladies and gentlemen on the cars. Mr. B. and Miss G. were united in marriage by the rector of St. Peter’s Episcopal Church here. The newly-wedded couple remained in the city several days, and are now living at Benton.— Carson ( Nev .) Appeal. Where Two Lost Children Were. John Henry, aged thirteen, and his sister Alice, aged nine, left their mother’s house, near Turkey Run, Pa., for the purpose of picking berries. The children were familiar with the mountain paths for miles around their home, and conse quently, when they did not return for dinner, their mother was not at all fright ened. AVlten the afternoon passed, how ever, and the shades ot night were fill ing, without the appearanee of the youngsters. Airs. Henry became worried and started out to look for them. After wtmdering around till dark without finding the children, Airs. Henry became greatly frightened, and when her hus band, who is a miner, returned from work she insisted on his calling on the neighbors to assist in searching tor the lost ones. A number of neighbors were notified, and, as the news spread rapidly, a party of eleven persons soon started out in search of the children. Alessen- gers wereat once dispatched to Gilberton, Shenandoah and Mahanoy City, to see if the children had strayed to either of those places. In the meantime, the search was carried on industriously in the hills that surround the home of the little ones, but up to midnight no clew to their whereabouts was discovered. About this time the messengers returned from the surrounding villages and re ported that they could find no traces of the children. The search was carried on diligently, however, and between one and two o’clock one of the hunters named Peter 11. Mullen heard a faint cry for help issue from a thicket on a Hill just above the village of Gilberton and on running in that direction, came upon an old sink-hole, at the bottom of which lie heard the children, who, in answer to his inquiries, said they were unhurt, but could not get out. Peter’s shouts soon brought reinforcements to the spot, and among them came Mrs. Henry, the distracted mother, who had spent the entire night in the hills look ing for her little ones. Her joy on learn ing that they had been found and were uninjurejl proved more than her mind could bear and she fainted. As the pit in which the children were is about fifty feet deep, and has perpendicular sides, the children could not begot out with out a. rope, so one of the party was dis patched to Gilberton, and in about half an hour lie returned with the desired article. The rope was fastened around Mr. Henry’s waist, and with a lantern in his hand lie was Ibwered into the black depths of the pit. The boy was first hoisted up and then Mr. Henry and the little girl. The children state that they were picking berries when the bank on which they were standing crumbled beneath their feet, and they were carried to the bottom. Strange to say, beyond a few bruises and scratches, the little ones were unhurt. The boy says the accident occurred about nine or ten o'clock and consequently they were confined in the pit nearly sixteen hours. Fortunately, the, sink-hole the children fell into did not, like the majority, of such places, contain water, or they would in all probability have been drowned.—Potts mlle (Pa.) Miners' Journal. The Lack of Home Training. The convict,Barrett,who was shot dead m Sing Sing prison, is described by his father as a ‘high strung” youth. It appears that lie had been a barkeeper, had fallen in with dissolute companions, and was arrested and plead guilty to a charge which was supported mainly by the fact that he was wearing a stolen shirt. His father now says that the young man had borrowed this shirt from one of his worthless friends, and that it was upon his own advice, in order to secure a short sentence, that his son formally admitted that he was guilty. The boy’s high temper and unregulated disposition finally led to his death. It seems a hard thing to say, but the chances are that young Barrett would have been a .curse to the community as Jong as he lived,. He appears to have had no home training; he had neither learned a trade nor adopted any useful occupation; he had become intimate with evil associates: he was like an un trained colt, and although he may not have become absolutely vicious, yet his unregulated nature and physical strength made his acts as dangerous as they would have been if they had sprung* from deliberate malevolence. It is obvious that aH the evil which befell him later in life came from the idleness and lack of training of his younger years. Many other boys are growing up in this and our other large cities impre cisely the same circumstances. It is from this class that our criminals mainly come. If these boys could be set to work at learning a trade or at farming they might be saved; but without some thorough and habitual discipline of this kind they are pretty sure to come to some bad end.— New York AV:ntV/ Po*t. VOL. V. NO. 49. FOR THE FAIR SEX, New* ami Note* for Women. The Duke Alexis says the American women are the most beautiful in exist ence. Miss Harriet Hosmer, the American sculptress, so long resident at Rome, is in her fiftieth year. She was born in Water town, Mass. Mrs. Mary Ilowitt has received from the English government a pension of §6OO, in consideration of her literary services. Mile. Grevy, daughter of the president of the French republic, is an excellent shot, and habitually accompanies her father in his shooting excursions. Mrs. Gladstone has opened a “ home for business girls” in London. The es tablishment will accommodate twenty live young women, who will be expected to pay according to their means. Fifteen years before the Revolution the wife of Washington kept sixteen spin ning wheels running, and saw the fabrics made in her own house, under her own direction. A disconsolate wife tells the Detroit Post that she does not believe that there is a woman in the whole United States that “ever got credit for raising a step child.” Maryland, Delaware. Virginia and Louisiana are the only States now left in which the male teachers outnumber the female. In New Hampshire there are five women teachers to one man, and in Massachusetts eight to one. A deputation representing the young .maidens of Great Britain recently waited upon the Duchess of Connaught, at Buck ingham Palace, to present to her a hand somely illuminated Bible as a gift of the maidens of Great Britain. Croquet has never become popular in France, it seems, and the reasons given are that French girls wear high-liee! ?d boots even in tile country, ana that, as .thirty or forty families live in one house, and that house has nothing but a stone paved courtyard, it is difficult to find the required lawn accommodations. The Pacific coast has just had its first wedding where the marriage ceremony was performed by a woman. Rev. Ada C. Bowles of the First Universalist church at San Francisco was the ofiieia ting clergyman, Dr. Jennie Bearby, of Oakland, was one of the high contracting parties, no mention being made of the man in the case. The last English census gives the follow ing figures with regard to the women em ployed in the metal trade: Pattern de signers, 137; surgical instrument makers, 230; gun finishers, 366; percussion cap makers, 660; cartridge makers, 1,497; machines maker, 243; file makers, 1,021; cutlers, 837; scissors makers, 376; needles, 2,110; pins, 403; steel pens, 1,577; thim bles, 144; goldsmiths’ and jewelers’ tiades, 3,022; plated wares, 704; copper manufacture. 160; tin trade, 932: tin plate workers, 1.883; brass trades, 1,887; wire workei's, 497; lacquerers, 698; bur nishers, 1,320; iron manufactories, 2,093; blacksmiths, 436; nail makers, 10,864; anchor makers, 910; press workers, 855; screw cutters, 1,479. Pars Millinery. Directed to the fourth story by the co cierge, I ascended and found myself in regal apartments, sparkling in gilt, mir rors, frescoes and laces. An infinity of confections were upon exhibition, and, though their construction justified the prices, they exceeded what I was able to pay. No bonnet lor less than twelve dollars, and many for twenty-five, and I should have turned away had it not been for the courtesy of the accomplished sales ladies—l may apply the word “ ladies ”in its every acceptation—in manner, in ap pearance and in education. Both hand some, the younger past youth, the elder had crossed the meridian of life, and yet either of them would have “shaken the saintship of an anchorite” by subtle grace and liquid voice and talking eyes; and so they succeeded in selling me a bonnet. How could I resist the influence of two such seductive flatterers and liars? They compelled me to be seated before a mirror, and one bonnet after another adorned my pate; for site was quite sure she could suit madame. If one was too costly, there was another hanging upon the next peg, just as beautiful, for eight teen francs less. If madame did not like the rouge, madame should see herself in the ccil-bleu; it was just madame’s color, but then madame was so easily eoiffed; madame was—ah,a belle in anything; and then these two handsome, crafty females indulged in a dissertation in their own tongue, largely interlarded with English, upon my constructive attractions. This last roup d'etat clinched the bargain. Tlie next “madame” wlio purchased a more expensive article would be stiil more beautiful, and would undoubtedly hear her charms extolled in still more winning tones. Still, I admire the rude philosophy of these people; it made us all happy; they sold their merchandise; I went away in a state of beatitude, in being compared to “ flowers and angels and sunbeams, the calmness of moonlight and the sparkle of champagne.” And as I passed away toward the book shop my meditations were upon the cruel fascina tions of these French women. With me their influence had been potential; what would such sway be with the opposite sex? I could only find little censure for one who yielded to the spell, whether ex ercised for good or evil.—“ Em'ly," in Forney's Progress. As to Hats. A man’s hat, unlike a bonnet, is often indicative of his character, for he is al lowed to choose from a great variety of styles that which best suits his tempera ment or accords with his moral sense. And yet a “ shocking bad hat” does not always reveal a shocking bad character. Hats, as well as dreams, often go to con traries. Wendell Phillips' gray slouched hat is no sign of any slouchiness in Wendell, and the bright beaver of the burglar is no indication of shining moral attributes in the wearer. The chief beauty of the modem hat is that it is eminently useful. Sociates, whose cri terion of beauty was adaptedness to use, would have been delighted with such hats as nine-tenths of modem men wear, though we fear he would ask, Cui bonof if presented with a beaver. The ideal hat, perhaps, is yet to be made, but we have come pretty near to it. It keeps the head warm in winter and cool in summer, it protects the eyes and face from the sun, it is impermeable to the rain and yet not to the air, it is soft and yielding, it may be sat upon and jammed into the pocket without injury, and rolled in the dust or mud and come out untarnished, and, above all, it will endure the ravages of time. What more does a man want of a hat?. Compared with the ephemera] bonnet, it is “a thing of beauty and a joy forever,” an epic poem, ripening with the years. The.' • fore, what man having worn an old 1 at Straightway desireth anew? For lie saith the old is better.— Springfield Unu n. The Whistling Tree. In the vegetable world there are many notable productions, but one of the most curious is a species of acacia, which is found in Nubia, where groves of the trees may be seen over 100 square miles in extent. The Arabs call it the soffar (i. e.. flute or pipe), in allusion to a pe culiar property that this acacia possesses. Owing to the inroads of the larvae of in. sects, tie ivory-white shoots of the tree are frequently distoited in shape and ; swollen at their base into a globular, bladder-like gall about one meu m di- , ameter. After the insect has emerged from a circular hole this thom-hke shoot becomes a kind of musical instrument, ! upon which the wind, as it plays, dis courses music in the regular sound of the flute The natives of the Soudan, on account of the flute properties of the . acacia, call it ths " whistling tret." THE OGLETHORPE ECHO. Advertising Rates Space. |1 w|2w|*w|2.n|3m|6ni|tTr 1 inch *l.dj :*l.su *3 Uo|*4.iu *s.uu s;.ou sli.uo 2 inches 1.50 2.50 4.0 T (.00 1.00 liool 18. U) 3 inches 2.0 ) 350 i.75 7.00] 8.00 H.OO 22 10 4 inches 3.00, 4.0 u 6.0§. B.ou 10.00 16.00 l*.oO column... 4.00 6.00 H.00i10.00 12.(0 20.00 3k.CC % column.. 8.00 12.00 15.00118.< 022 00 35.00 65.C0 1 col mm.... IXOOUe.OOiaw.OO.iS.OOiaS.OOIeu.UOIIOO.OO Leeal Advertisements. Sheriff Sales, per levy $5.03 Executors*, Administrator* and Guardian's Sale*, per square 5.00 Notice to Debtors and Creditors, thirty days... 4.00 Notice of Leave to JMI, thirty days 6.0) Letters of Administration, thirty days 5.00 Lettersof Dismission, three m0nth5........... 6.50 Letters of Guacdisuship, thirty days 4.10 Letters cf Dis. Guardianship, forty days 5.00 Homestead Notices, three insertions. 3.00 Uule Nisi’* per square each insertion. 1.00 Fulfillment. Sometimes I think the things ive sec Ashadows ot the things to In 1; That what we plan we build; That every hope that hath been crossed, And every dream we thought was lost, In heaven shall be fulfilled. That even the children ot the brain Have not been born and died in vain, Though here unclothed and dumb; But on some brighter, better shore, They live embodied evermore, And wait lor us to come. —Phctbe Cu rt ITEMS OF INTEREST. The debt of the city of Paris now ex ceeds $56,000,000. Little Georgie Dobbie playfully set fire to a heap of brushwood close to a powder magazine at Marquette, Mich, and the explosion killed him. “ Had dime my way, oh, beauteous maid, I’d steal a kiss!” he cried. “Tiier. I’d do ten times worse than that—l’d dollar!" she replied. —Eugene Field. The Holly Springs (Miss.) South joins the band with a blood-red snake, three feet long, with two legs midwav the body, and two dark spots the size c* a dime on its hock. A New York letter to the Chicago Tribune says people will yet go from New York to Chicago for a dollar. .But will they get it when they arrive there? that is the question.— Griswold. The leg of Mrs. 11. A. Doty, a well known lady of Bloomington, ill., was broken by the contraction of muscles, resulting from inflammatory rheuma tism. The case is considered very re markable by the physicians. Bristol is tfie name of a town situated on the dividing line of Virginia and Tennessee. A fugitive from justice in one State lias only to step across the street and from the opposite pavement laugh the officer.with his warrant to scorn. Bull-frogs in Jamaica like fire-flies. Cruel persons who like bull-frogs catch them by tossing toward them small red hot pieces of charcoal. The silly bull frogs mistake the pieces for fire-flies, jump at them, eat them and are burned to death. An engineer on the Grand Trunk rail way is said to have run a single engine 200,000 miles within a period of four years and three months, without repairs. This is said to be an unprecedented feat, r.nd creditable alike to engine and en gineer. A common way of imposing upon ig norant prospectors in the mining regions of Nevada is to shoot gold filings into the ground from a gun. Even brass is made to serve the purpose, and by this means many a worthless claim is sold at a high price. Nothing is lost in France. The orange blossoms and grass in the public gardens of Paris are sold to the highest bidder, and at a country railroad station a visi tor lately saw a sale of the grass on the embankments. The purchasers were peasants’ wives. The importation of American leather into Europe has increased over one hun dred per cent, since 1873. In that year Europe received 659,912 hides, and to iudge by the exports from the United States thus far this vear it will receive at the close over 1,500,000. Dairy products in -Greece are made from the milk of sheep and goats. Of sheep there are 23.000,000 in that coun sry, and of goats 1,836,000. The .aver age product of each animal is rated at elewn pounds of cheese and two and three-quarter pounds of butter. “You love me?” echoed the fair young creature, :is her pretty head oiled the collar ot his summer suit. “ Yes,” lie said, tenderly, “you are my own and only—” “Hush!’’ she interrupted. “ don’t say that—be original. Thai sounds too much like Barnum’s show bills. —Rockland Courier. A party of men on their way by water to Fort Assiniboine, Montana, came across an immense herd ot buffalo. For twelve hours the bufTalo were in sight, and one drove swam the river in front of the boat and the men succeeded in killing three —a cow and two calves. The l>oat traveled sixty milc-s before the herd was lost sight of. j There is said to lie one very picturesque personage in Sitting Bull’s camp—a Nez | Perce, named Step—so-called, it is sur ! mised, from the fact that lie has no legfi j ,nd can’t walk an inch. His lower ! limbs, left arm and part of the right hand have been frozen off. He is strap i pod to his pony, and bis weapon is a horse-pistol. Which he manipulates with I the stump of his dexter fin. A young lady graduate in a neighbor ; ing county read an essay entitled “ Em i oloyment of Time.” Her composition | was based on the text. “ Time wasted :is existence: used, is life.” The next | day she purchased eight ounces o/ zephyr [ ofdifferent shades and commenced work | ing a sky-blue dog with sea-green ears | and a pink tail on a piece of yellow can j 7as. She expects to have it done by ! next Christmas. — Norristown Herald. \ The surgeon had prescribed a bath foi a soldier who was ailing, and ordered i that he be conducted to an adjoining es i tablishment by a sergeant. At the end S of an hour’s waiting at the bath-room 1 door, the sergeant, hearing no noise, en i tered the room and found the soldier i seated by the side of the bath-tub. The water was as it was when the soldier went into the room, except that its level had been perceatibly lowered. “Ma foi, j sergeant,” said the soldier, “you may put me in the guard-house if you want to, but I can’t drink another drop!”— ! French Newspaper. ; The practice of “ weighting” silks has I begun to excite serious attention. Rome idea of the extent to which silk adultera tion is carried may be formed from re j cent statements by Justus Wolff. He says the public is made. to pay the ful price for a material containing only one -1 third of silk and two-thirds of sub stances which are not. only, of little I value in themselves, but injurious to the : small quantity of genuine silk. “ I know English manufacturers who send i their silks to France to be dyed black and then returned for working up. be cause in France they are able. to increase the weight of silk while dyeing it lc.u k much more than they can do in Eng land. The result of such practice is a beautiful black silk fabric, changing into rags remarkably quick in the possession of the buyer.” He recommends analyses of “weighted” black silk fabrics to be made and the results published, with the names of the firms manufacturing or selling the adulterated goods. Do Monkeys Swim I A correspondent of fxmd and Water, in replv to a question whether monkeys swim, says: I was always under the impression that they did not like wetting their fur or hair, but at Sangur, Central India, when I was stationed there I had a little monkey that was exceedingly fond of swimming and diving. One Jay on taking him to the pond at the bottom of my compound, he jumped off my shoulder and dived (like a man) into the water, which was three or four feet deep; he had his chain on at the time and when lie dived in the chain i-auglit in some grass or root at the bottom and kept the monkey down; he was just able to ccme to the top of tlie water. Feeling his chain had caught, he dived down, undid the chain, and continued his swim with the chain in his hand. He swam just like a man as far as I could ee from the motion of bts arms. Several of my brother officers came to see him swimming, of which fie whs very ford, swimming very quietly, and cunningly trying to catch the frogs that lay floating oh the top of tlie water.