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Amid Amid the me Grasses. masses.
Cm*' live iidnr. 00 .rce am
Cw ringlet* "ic t'be
<*t the dandelion fine!
Cotnn, sing and croon and chant,
Here lurks no aching want
Of past or present;
Her® honey -bind is found,
And creeping o’er the ground
Mellow sunbeams pleasant;
"-of ,
All in the ^ and^y S^togethar,
And H. W ejoa shine out from lair young
la gentian* blue, that catch the thistle’s
leather;
Cases, breathe and live!
For here grow sweet all gracious thing* to
give.
Here nod 'eth tine
My Iwdy Columbine;
M “* r “
Ob, hither eoroo and hide!
Here in the grasses nestle, nestle deep with
me!
Herewith my bounteous love and me
•‘hide! ,
sweet „ namre, qmen of all green things .
t.,,..,, lor over all
. .
With vapor* through 8 lorm and the golden-drooping drowsy skies— hair,
Breathes
The mellow-tinted India-summer air—
And oilers sacrifice! .
Ah ...... what s so s wee ,
O^iurbrmrief'nSth th^iniows?
And winit, ah! what’, so fair
As the summer air,
And the lark high up in its fleecy billows?
And here in the meadow-land far below
We can listen And catch the streamlet’s flow,
And hear the lark till he’s ont of sight
In the breezy blue above the hill,
And watch the sunbeams drop and fill
For hem thHSZ arfsohSd stiff
Hist! be hushed as a startled mole
Curled in its cradle; for over the knoll
I see the soit brown twitching ear
Oi the shy gray rabbit peeping! sleeping—
He thinks that we are
Natureand I! Ila, ha!
And soon more near
He’ll crouch his lorm and crop the hill-side
tender; winds blow by,
And if the
Ho knows them, knows them just as well as I,
Nor tears their shrill pipes slender.
Hear how alolt the old crows caw!—
Ca! ca!—
Wicked black crows that fill the>r maw
With pretty fleld-fares. What a shame!
Here’s on* that built his r.est closo by,
Last summer, and the grasses lie
Trampled by the path he came.
See! here deep down are mosses and sweet
loros, that, burns:
And meadow-fire
Loye’s torch, they calfit rather,
Or Cupids cup, ii maidens pluck and
gather.! fairies smoke—
Here’s Jndian-pipe, tire
They light it by the meadow-fire—
Am! hero’s the magic ring tlrey broke
When dancing to their cricket choir.
And here are spicy mints,
And club-head lichens rail of freakish dints
Of toothsome elves, and prints
Of winding pathways thro’ the reedy
grasses, burryihg wild, the emmet’s
Where, army
passes; roads,
Here dainty
Where, shining toft, the velvet-coated
toads, rain is
Crushing the herbage, pant when over,
Hopping to meet their loves in musky clover;
And here the field-mouse comes,
Stealing sweet nature’s crumbs—
Seeds that she plants for mice and birds un
hoedod;
Far from the cark of men
She stores her wealth of grain—
Way-side larms by walls, brier-grown and
over-weeded.
Here, here 1 watch them come—
The wild bee with bis drum;
The tilting dragon-fly with azure wing;
The painted moths; and lo!
With his sharp, wiry bow,
The elbowed grasshopper, with sudden spring
Setting the thickets brown in wild commotion;
While fluttering down like shells through
some blue ocean,
fn undulations rhythmically slow,
Through the blue-misted air ol autumn lucid—
Purple us Tyrian tides, and interfused
With incense odors of all sweet shrubs
bruised—
1’he splendid wide-winged maplo leaflets
mellow!
Hero still are buttercups, so silvery yellow;
And hero sweet wintei -giv.cn, with berries red.
And here from nodding head
The feathery dandelion soweth wide
Her venturous parachutes—how light
They mount tho breeze, and vanish from the
sight! low-couched abide,
And hei e
And creeping soltly slide
Arbutus tendrils through the rustling grass,
Waiting for snows to pass,
To breathe once more tho verdure ol the
Ofi spring. And liere wing
on
Como the sharp sparrows, ami late robins sing
Their farewells. So, farewell'
The light deth pass
From sky and vale and mountain
As frona some spent and golden-watered
ton u tain.
So, tare well!
While through the meadow-grass
Crioket sad restless midge and night-wings
rally
Their torces (ar and near,
And fill the ear
With pantings of soft plumes and rustlings
clear, long
And mu si* shrill and high, through the
dusky Talley. Magazine
— W. Jf/. Brings, in Harper’s
Story of a Skeleton Skirt.
1 was in the civil service at Rich¬
mond. Enough that 1 was there and
on honest business. That business done,
I prepared to return home. And there¬
by hangs this Confederacy. tale, and, as it proved,
the fate of the
For, of course, I wanted to take
presents question home there tomy what family. these Very little
should be—for was I had boys presents
no or
brothers. The women ot the Con ted
eracy had one want which overtopped
all others. They could make coffee out
of beans; pins they hud from Columbus;
straw hats they brai&d quite well with
their own fair hana ; snuff we could
get better than you cot-ld in tlie “old
concern.” We had no hoopskirts—
skeletcms. weused to call them. No in¬
genuity had made ibem. No bounties
had forced them. The Bat, the Grey¬
hound, the Deer, the Flora, the J. C.
Cobb, the Yaruna and the Fore-and
Aft all took in cargoes of them for us in
England. But tbeBat and the Deer and
the Flora were seized by the blockadeis
the J. C. Cobb sunk at sea, the Foie
and-Aft and the Greyhound and Varuna were set fire
to by their own crews, was
never heard of. Then the State of
A ’Aansas offered sixteen townships of
v-t,jEp land to the first manufacturer
who would exliibit tire gross of the
home-manufactured article. But not e
ever competed. The first attempts, in
deed, were put to an end when Schofield
crossed the Blue Lick and destroyed the
dam on the Yellow branch, which that
brute of a Grierson said there was
never anything of it but the outside.
Of course, then, I put in the bottom
of my new large trunk in New York,
not a “duplex elliptic,” >for ” none wen
then made, but a “ Belmonte of thirty
springs, for my wife. I broght Belle-Fon for her
mor;M ommon wear and a good Sue
taine.” For Sarah each I got
two “ Dumb-belles.” For Ast Eunice
cut! Aunt Chrn. maiden sisters of my
I wife, w ire,■ who wuo lived nv«u with u us » after Winchester g h
I „
go™”'' For my Jr«" own
and “ Invisible Micof Combination U,c .1 Gos
one good old
samer.” I did not forget Jane. For
Mamma Chloe and Mamma
them I got substantial cages without
names. With these tied in the heaps
of figure eights in the bottom of my
. U nk as I said, 1 put in an assorted
drv fronds above and favored
s c sss
safely at Richmond before the autumn
closed^ #t home with I rapture opened .
Rut when, the next morning doubly
my stores, this became rapture tell the
enraptured. Words cannot old and
,| t delieht with which
young, black and white, surveyed those
fairv-like structures, vet unbroken and
unmended
Jzr u % •u’fflJS? fftto
if ^Sdtol things had
Belmontes and the other
]oof P( t a o loner as th*e advertisements
declared. was' day
] up in the cedar closet one
lookin<'for an old parade cap of mine,
” j thought, though it my
was
third best, might look better than my
second best which I had worn ever
since my best was lost at Seven Pines,
I say I was standing on the low r shelf
of the cedar closet, when, as I stepped
along in the darkness, my left right did foot
caueht in a bit of wire, my not
, ^ in time, and 1 fell with a
small wooden hat box in my hand full
on the floor. The corner of the hat box
struck me just below the second frontal
sinus, and I fainted away.
When T camp tn mvself I was in the
hr 4 r- Vm-ehead 1 1 vinegar on a brown
P a P« on , Sf^h’er thc room °hv was
nark, and , J found moth *min s n me ’
-
.
and to knowjhat I knew » ™
leg is brok.cn above the ankle; you will
not move these six weeks. Where do
vniiTnnnme JOU suppose vnuaref” you are.
fill then i had no notion that it was
hve minutes since I went into the closet.
W hen slit told me thetime five m .the
afternoon— I groaned m the lowest
depths. For in my breast I could pocket in
that innocent coat, which now
see lying on the window-sill, were the
duplicate dispatches to Mr. Maso^>, for
which, late the night before, I had got
the secretary’s signature. They Wihmng- were
to go at ten that morning to
ton, by the navy department s special
messenger. I had taken them to insure
care and certainty. 1 had worked on
them till midnight, and tuey had not
been signed till near one o clock,
Heavens an 1 earth, and there it was
fiveoelock. The man mus. be half way
to \\ liming!on by tins time. I sent the
doctor for fcefarge, my clerk. Lefarge
did liis prettiest in rushing to the tele
Chowan graph. But river, no. or a raid A freshe^ by Foster, on the or
something, or nothing, lias smashed
the telegraph wire for that reached mglit. Wil- And
before that dispatch ever the
mington the navy agent was m offing
in the bea Maid.
But perhaps breathless the duplicate got
through. . No, reader, the
duplicate did not get birougli. The du
piheate was taken by Faucon in the Ino.
I saw it last week m I)r. Lieber s hands
H 1 V.^ s ^ ngt on W ’ | know is
the duplicate l 1 . had , got through
the Confederate government would
have had in March a chance at 83,211
muskets, wlneli, as it was, never left
Belgium. So much for my treading
irito that blessed piece of wire on the
; n' n of the cedar closet upstairs.
W hat was the bit of wire.
Well, it was not telegraph wire. when If it ft
had been it would have broken
was not wauted to. Don’t you know
what it was? Go up in your own cedar
closets and step about in the dark, and
see what brings up about your ankles,
Julia, poor child, cried her eyes out
about it. When I got well enough to
get up, and as soon as I could talk and
plan with her, she brought down seven
of these old things—Belmontes, simplex
and ellipties she made and horrors pile of without, them in a the name— bed
a
room, and she asked me in the most
penitent way what she should do with
them.
“ You can’t burn them,” she said,
fire won’t touch them. If you bury
them in the garden they come up at the
second raking. If you give them to the
servants they say, ‘Thank-e, missus,’
and throw them in the back passage. If
you give them to the poor, they throw
them into the street in front, and do not
say ‘ Thank-e.’ Sarah sent seventeen
over to the sword factory, and the fore¬
man swore at the boy, and told him he
would flog him within an inch of his
life if he and brought so—and any so,” more sobbed of his the sauce
there; “I just rolled the wretched poor
child, up
things and put them in the cedar closet,
hoping, you know, that something, some day the
government would want and
would advertise for them. You know
what a good thing I made out of the
bottle corks.”
In fact she had sold our bottle corks
for $4,216 of the first issue. We after¬
ward bought two umbrellas and a cork¬
screw with the money.
Well, i did not scold Julia. It was
certainly no fault of hers that I was
walking on the lower shelf of her cedar
closet. I told her to make a parcel of
t he things, and the first time we went
to ridt I hove the whole shapeless heap
into the river.
But let no man think, or no woman,
that this was the end of the troubles.
As I look back on that winter, and on
the spring of 1865, it seems to me only
the beginning. I got out on crutches at
last; I had the office transferred to my
house, so that Lafarge and Hepburn
could work there at night and commu¬
nicate with me when I could not go out;
but mornings I hobbled up to the de¬
partment, and sat with the chief, and
took liis orders. Ah, me! shall I soon
foiget that damp winter morning, when
we all had such hone at the office s One
or two,of the army fellows looked in at
the window as they ran past, and we
knew that they felt well; and, though I
would not ask old Wick—as wv nick¬
named the chief—what was in the wmd,
I knew the time had come, and that the
lion meant to break the net this time. I
made an excuse to go home earlier than
usual; rode down to the house in the
major’s ambulance, I remember, and
hopped in to surprise Julia with the
good news, only to find that the whole
house was in quiet uproar, which shows
that something bad has happened of a
sudden.
“ What is it, Chloe?” said I, as the
old wench rushed by me with a bucket
of water.
“Poor Mr. George, I ’fr&id he’s dead,
sah.”
And there lie really was, dear, hand
some. bright George Schaff—the Richmond; delight he
of all the nicest girls of
lay there on Aunt Eunice’s bed ^on the
ground floor, where they had and brought he did
him in. He was not dead,
not die. He is making cotton in Texas
now. But he looked mighty near like
it then. The deep cut in his head was
the worst I had ever seen, and the blow
confused everything. When McGregor
got round be said it was not hopeless;
but we were turned out of the room,
and, with cne thing and another, he got
the boy out of the swoon, and it proved
Lis head was not broken.
No, but poor George swears to this
if» «, n :d
the right field.]For 1 Way ’
*nd on s that;even
ing ROne
wrong in fie surprise. There we had
been waiting tor one of those ear A y fogs,
and at last tne tog had come. AndJu
bai Early had tha morning pushed out
every man he had that could stand, and
$&l ay i h &J?^
P^eWme. at th ^°^ iot Po ^atan, only
Streight’s party was to fire at Wilson’s
wharf, as soon as somebody on our left
center advanced m force on the enemy’s
lme above -Lurkey island, stretching
across to Nansemond. Iam notinthe
war department, and I forget whether
he was to advance en barbette or by
echelon of infantry. But he was to ad
x„ e srss
e L m s“n 0 jEarl7tre™hfmTe^
«d
to surprise Rowhatan, you see; and
then, it you Have understood me, Grant
and Butler and the whole rig of them
would have been cut off from their sp
i plies, would have nad to fight a battle
for which they were not prepared, with
their rignt made into anew left, and
their old left unexpectedly advanced at
at_°khque angle fro>m their center; and
womd not ^ uaw have been the end of
themr
Well, that never happened, /ind the
reason it Schaff, never happened was that poor
George with the last fatal order
for this man, whose name I forgot (the
same who was afterwaid killed the day
before at High Bridge), undertook to
save time by cutting across behind my
house, from r rankim to Green streets.
You know how much time hesaved;
they waited all day for that older.
George told me afterward that the last
thing he remembered was kissing his
window. J &Td h L1houghT Kjht
S
a i° g ’, feet an 1 headforemost p °° v George ,^ a s Pitched
fifteen f against a stake
there was in that lot. Julia saw the
whole. She rushed out with all the
vome n. and home. had just brought that him in
wken j g0 f And was the
reagon that the great promised combin
a tj on G f December. 1864, never came off
atall ^
j aIked out in the lot, after Mc
G. regor turned me out of the chamber,
to see what they had done with the
oorse. There he lay, as dead as o'd
Messenger himself. His neck was
b ro ken. And, do you think, I looked to
?€e wk at had tripped him. I supposed
j fc was on8 Q f ^} ie boys’ bandy holes. I
wa9 no suck thing. The poor wretch
ka( j tangled his hind legs in one of
those hoop-wires j that Chloe had thrown
oul w i Jcn gave her new ones. Though
j ( ij d not know j it then, those fatal straps
D f ru by S f ee } Ja( j broken the neck that
day of Robert Lee’s army,
That time I made a row about it.
felt too badey to go into a passion. But,
before the women wenr !o bed—they
wcre all in the sitting-room together—I
taiked to thcm like a father. I did not
swear . I had got over that for a while, i
i n that six weeks on my back. But
did say the old wives were nuisances,
and that the house and premises must,
be got rid of them. The aunts laughed
—though I was so serious—and tipped
a w i uk t Q the girls. The girls wantecP*
to laugh, but were afraid to. And then
it came out the aunts had sold their old
h 00 ps, tied as tight as they could tie
them, in a great mass of rags. They
kad made a fortune by the sale—I am
sorry to say it was in other rags, but the
rags they got were j new instead of old
—^ was a rea Aladdin bargain. The
ragman had been in a hurry and did not
know what made the things so heavy.
I frowned at the swindle, but they said
all was fair with a peddler and I own
I was glad the things were well out o
Richmond. But when I said I thought
it was a mean trick, Lizzie and Sarah
looked demure, and asked what I would
have them to do with the old things,
Did I expect them to walk down to the
bridge themselves with great parcels to
throw into the river, as I had done by
Julia’s? Of course it ended, as such
tilings always do, by shoulders. my taking I the
work on my own told
them to tie up all they had in as small a
parcel as they could and bring them to
me.
handsome Accordingly the next day I found a
large, considering, brown-paper strangely parcel—not so
and square,
considering—which the minxes had put
together They had and laid on my office table.
had a great frolic over it. They
not spared red tape nor red wax.
Yery official it looked, indeed, and on
the lefthand corner, in Sarah's boldest
and most contorted hand, was written
“secret service.” We had a great laugh
over their success. And, indeed, I
should have taken it with me the next
time I went down to Tredegar, but that
I happened to dine one evening with
young Norton, of our gallant little navy,
and a very curious thing he told us.
Y/e were talking about the disap¬
pointment of the ombined land attack.
I did not tell what upset poor SchafFs
horse; indeed I do not think those navy
men knew the details of the disappoint¬
ment. O’Brien had told me in confi¬
dence, what I have written probably for
the first time now. But we were speak
irg in a Norton general way of the disappoint¬
ment. finished his cigar rather
thoughtfully and then said:
“ Well, feliows, it. is r,otwoith whi
to put it in the newspapei s, but what do
you suppose upset our grand naval at¬
tack the day the Yankee gunboats skit¬
tled down the river so handsomely?”
best “ Why,” beloved said Allen, who is Norton’s
friend, “they say that you
ran away from them as fast as they did
from you.”
“Do they?” said Norton, grimly.
“If you say that I’ll break your head for
you. “that Seriously, men,” continued he,
was an extraordinary thing. You
know I was o i the ram- But why she
stopped when she stopped [ knew as
little as this wineg.ass does; and Cal¬
lender himself knew no more than L
We had not been bit. We were all
right as a trivet for all we knew, when,
sbree! she began blowing off steam, and
we stopped dead and began to drift
down under those batteries- Callender
had to telegraph to the little Mosquito,
or whatever Walter called im boat, and
the spunk 3 T little thing ran down and got
us out of the scrape. Walter did right
well; if he had had a monitor under him
he could not have done better. Oi
course we all rushed to the engine
room. What were they a. there? All
they knew was that they could get no
water iuto h^r boiler.
“ Now. fenow3, this is the end of the
story. As soon as the boilers cooled
off, they worked all night on those sup¬
ply pumps. May I be hanged if they
aa«i not sucked in, somehow, a long
string ol yarn and cloth, and, if you
wilt believe me. a wired some woman’;?
crinoline. And that French foilv of a
sham empress cut short that day the
victory of the Confederate nav", and
old Davis himself can’t telTwben we
shall have a chance again.”
The herring fishing on the cast coast
of Scotland is the most successful on
record, it has been found impossible
to cure all the fish caught, and tons
have been carried to the manure mer
chants.
How Limlmrger Cheese is Made.
Limburger cheese, as its. name indi
cates, originated in the province of Lim¬
burg, Holland, but ail that is consumed
in this country is by no means ot foreign
manufacture. Thousands of tons are
annually made in the United States,
mostly in New York and Wisconsin.
Dodge, Jefferson and Green counties,
Wis., are noted for this Industry; in the
latter county alone there being tw enty- Lim¬
five factories engaged in making
burger cheese. These factories are
mostly in the hands of the Germans and
Swiss. In an interesting paper on this
cheese read before the W isconsin dairy¬
men’s association by Mr. John Lucnsin
ger, Monroe county, Wis., he said:
Limburger cheese is usually under favor¬
able circumstances standard more profitable American to
the maker than the
cheese, almost always bringing from pound ten
in to market, twenty-five while per the cent, yieldgfrom more per given
a
quantity of milk is greater, the reason
for which will be apparent when the
process of making is explained. As a
short account of the process of manu
facture wfti doubtless be of interest the
following will be in place: Limburger
is made in factories capable of working
up the milk of from 100 to 400 cows,
rarely exceeding the latter number, for
he reason that the milk is brought and
tcheese is made twice a day, and a greater
number of cows would require a larger
area of country than would be conve¬
nient. The milk is usually bought agreed from
farmers by the makers at a price
conditions upon at the beginning be observed ot the season;.the both sides
to on
being in form of a written contract.
Great care is taken that ail milk brought
to the factory be pure, fresh and free
from taint. The milk is set in a vat In
the usual manner, nothing in the first
stage of making being different from the
same stage in making American cheese,
except that the temperature is not so
high and perhaps the rennet fluid a
trifle stronger. Upon the curd being
formed it is cut slowly and carefully, so
as to liberate as few as possible of the
butter globules, into pieces about tin
size of dice; after the curd is properly
stirred and slightly scalded it is dippec
out of the vat, without being salted, inte
per f orated wooden molds about five
inches square, where it is left to drain,
no pressure being applied hours at any it is stage carried o
mailing. into After a few and placed edge¬
the curing cellar
ways on shelves precisely like bricks set
to dry. The cellar should not be too
dry, and kept at a temperature not above
sixty degrees Fahrenheit. Every day
the cheese, which are now about five by
two inches, are rolled in salt and turned;
they become salted by absorption, When
salted enough the cheese are still lm*ne.d
each day, and all exuding moisture i 3
rubbed with the hand evenly over the
surface and serves the double purpose of
keening it moist and closing all orifices
into which insects might penetrate about,
this time, and in this slimy, exuding
moisture is developed that indescribable
odor which ever afterward accompanies
and more than anything else character¬
izes Llm‘urger. It never forsakes it
and sticketh closer than a, brother to all
that touch or partake of it. After from
eight weeks to three month it is ready
for market. Each cheese is first packed
in paper, over which comes a sheet of
tin or lead foil, which are then packed
in boxes containing from sixty to one
hundred and twenty pounds and are sent
forth to purchasers. Limburger cheese
in contents and nutrition the richest
cheese that can be made; in. flavor a
predetermined outrage upon the organ
of smell.
An Indian Family.
An Indian named Joseph Tehement
lived in New York city with his wife,
four children and his father, a chief
over seventy years of age. They twelve sup¬
ported themselves there for
years by making baskets, and were
noted in their neighborhood lor their
singular devotion to each other, and
especially for the remarkable reverence
and affection gi/enby the whole family
to the aged chief.
A few months ago the old man sud¬
denly dropped dead on the street in front
of his house. The grief and dismay of
the whole family were extreme, but his
son Joseph, a middle aged man, was
completely stunned by the loss.
He prostrated himself on his father’s
dead body, crying: “Father, 1 will you are
gone, but I will follow you. not
uve wihoutyou!”
So great was his grief that he lost his
reason, and the next day, leaving the
corpse, he hurried to the river and
threw himself into it. When rescued
and confined he again and again tried to
kill himself, saving: “He that gave me
life is gone; why should I remain P”
The tie between parent and child is
often very close among the red men.
Very pathetic stories are told by the
missionaries and Quaker commissions
among the Indians of the sacrifices
made by some of the chiefs and their
wives to secure an education or advan¬
tages for their children. “They seem,” their
says one observer, “ indifferent to
own fate it they can hope to give to
their little ones a chance such as is open
to the poorest white child.”
It is a singular fact, too, that the
Indian, whom we are accustomed to
consider a roaming savage, is as much
attached to his home as a Swiss. But a
comparatively small portion of the
Western tribes are nomadic. They
occupy the same ground which be¬
longed to their ancestors, moving,
however, from place to place to suit the
hunting expedient season. that should
It is now we
all strive to ascertain the facts about
this people who are dependent influenced on us,
and not allow ourselves to be
by prejudice or by partiality.— Youth's
Companion,
The Military Salute.
Within the last few years among the
many changes introduced in the army
is that of the salute. Why abolished, the old, time
honored salute was no one
knows; but it is an interesting fact, and
one probably that the unknown old salute, to most which of our
readers, being con¬
sisted of the hand brought to a
horizontal posidon old origin, over dating, the eyebrows, in fact,
has a very
from the very commencement of the
history of the English army. Its origin
is found in the tournaments of the
middle ages, and was as follows: After
the queen of beauty was enthroned, the
knights which were to take part in the
day marched past the dias on which she
sat, and, as she passed, they shielded
their eyes from the rays of her beauty.
Such was the very interesting origin of
the old salute
Sexton Brown’s Mistake.
Of the late “ Grace Church Brown,”
the well-known New York sexton, this
story i3 told: fHe worshiped family. It blood, and
bowed down before was his
custom to reserve several good seats in
the church for distinguished his ability guests, and
he prided himself on to tell
at siuht who were worthy to sit in them.
One ^Sunday a tall, elegantly side dressed
man, with long, flowing him whiskers,
entered. Brown looked at and was
puzzled. * 4 Lord Dundreary,” by whispered
a young fellow who stood the door
to his companion. Mr. Brown caught
the word “ Lord,” and that decided it.
With his best bow and most expansive the
smile he showed the stranger to
chosen seat- The man was one of Del
monico’s waiteis. Mr. Brown seldom
made such mistakes.
Origin of Hazing.
The practice of hazing has an origin
more ancient and more respectable than
is generally supposed. Webster suggests
that this word may be derived from a
Swedish verb which signifies to ham¬
atring; but hs defines it thus: “To vex
with’chiding unnecessarily or reproof; disagreeable to punish by
exacting duty; to play abusive tricks or
difficult chiefly college stu¬
upon; used In among
dents and sailors.” some institutions
the carrying ot a cane by a freshman is
considered a piece of arrogance not to be
endured, and the offender is sometimes
subjected to treatment of the most out¬
rageous character. In others the stove
ripe hat is held to be the dear preroga¬
tive of the advanced classes; and woe
be to the freshman who presumes to
wear one. ... find c . . .
The origin of hazing we inci¬
dentally explained in a work upon
“University Life in Ancient Athens,”
by Professor W. W. Capes, of Oxford
university. In ancient times every pro¬
fessor was independent of the others,
and carried on the business of teaching
entirely on his own account.
In a city like Constantinople, Athens
or Marseilles, there would be perhaps
four or five professors of about the same
standing and celebrity, between whom
there would be a feeling of rivalry, in
which their students would sympa¬
thize. who .
Many of the young men, learning, would were
particularly devoted to their
be enthusiastic partisans of pro
fessor, and would exert themselves to
the utmost in procuring for them new
students and increased fees. his W studies hen a
young man arrived to pursue bear
they would meet him at the shore,
him off to the house o one of his coun¬
trymen, and use every means, fair and
foul, to get him to join their cla s.
Sometimes they res orted to violence
Professor Libanius, who flourished
about A. D. 350, tells us how lie fared
when he arrived at the city of Athens
to pursue his studies. After tlie dangers
of a winter voyage from Constantinople
he was seized, on landing, by a band of
students and kept in confinement until
he had taken an oath to join the class of
their professor. And the worst Oi it was
that the professor proved to be very in¬
competent. But .if he presumed join to criti¬ their
cise, or even if he failed to ui
rapturous applause, the scowls of the
class notified him that lie was exercising
f% dangerous freedom. So hot was
the rivalry between professors and
classes that tlie town was sometimes In
a continual riot, and the professors dared
not walk the streets unless escorted by a
band of their partisans. And just as in
modern times hazing is thought by some
to be a fine thing, so these contests be¬
tween rival classes had a kind of roman¬
tic attraction to students meditating a
course of study. records
The same Professor Libanius
that when, as a young man, he heard oi
the fighting in the streets of Athens
among the students, of the clubs, stones
and swords used, and of the wounds en¬
dured by the students for the honor of
their their teachers, he if thought they were as fighting highly^of for
courage as
their country, and he prayed heaven
that he, too, might one day join _ those
noble contests, and carry off new¬
comers from the boats in which they
landed.
The professors, too, were proud of the
exploits of their pupils, and regarded the
wounds which they showed in class as a
proof of the love borne them. In the
course of time, however, the professors
found it necessary to make common
cause with one another, and entered into
certain agreements for their common
interests. As time went on, these agree¬
ments embraced more and more particu¬
lars, until at length the body of instruc¬
tors formed a university. The students
were no longer attached to one prolessor
only, but sought instruction from each
in his own branch. From that time the
practice of hazing and seizing new¬
comers had no significance, and the cus¬
tom has been unknown in Europe for
centuries. In this country also it is
dying out, and is no doubt destined soon
to pass away. That it should have been
kept up so long is a curious instance of
the survival of a practice after the cir¬
cumstances in which it originated ceased
to exist. It is more than a thousand
years since new students were carried off
in the manner described by Professor
Libanius.
The Diamond Fraud.
A New York correspondent ot the
Troy Times writes: A view of metro¬
politan life, as afforded by the advertis¬
ing columns, will give one a glimpse of
many strange features, some of which
are worthy of at’.ention. The diamond
fraud for instance. This is still exten¬
sively advertised, and no doubt occa¬
sional hits are made,the bait belngf ound
in such notices as these:
A lady must havo $280, and to raise said
amount will part with her diamonds, cost
$400. Please to call at once and inquire lor
advertiser at 150 East Thirty-third street.
A lady, whose diamonds and jewelry are in
pawn, is unable to redeem them; will sell
tickets at sacrifice. Address Mrs. Havlin
Uptown office.
A lady having her valuable jewels in pawn
would like some honorable gentleman to re¬
deem and hold for a short time. Mrs. Sinclair.
A lady having in pawn valuable diamonds
and jewelry, unable to redeem them, will seli
tickets. Mrs. Talcott, Uptown office.
A lady having in pledge gold hunting watch
chain and diamond ring would like to dispose
ol tickets. Address Mrs. Lyman.
It need hardly be said that “the lady”
mentioned is merely the tool in the
hands of professed sharpers. The best
illustration of the method was afforded
by the manner in which two Washing¬
ton market hucksters were fleeeed.
They had a snug amount of surplus
funds and wished to make a temporary
investment. Having noticed an adver¬
tisement of the above-mentioned charac¬
ter, they opened a correspondence and
were met by a “lady,” who told a wo
ful tale. The diamonds were worth
$20,000, and had come from some royal
house. Could $5,000 be advanced it
would be only one-quarter their value,
and the money could be raised on them
at any time. A diamond broker (so
called) then appeared, Simpson who solemnly
averred that the pawnbroker
would advance $10,000 on the jewels,
but his terms (twenty-four per cent, per
annum) were too high. The lady offered
to pay ten per cent., returnable on call.
There is no sharper class of men than
Washington off market their usual hucksters, track they but
when taken
are as weak as childhood. These men
fell readily into the snare, and advanced
$5,000 on what proved to be a mere
fraud. This revelation was made at the
police office where the swindlers were
arraigned, but the charge failed for lack
of testimony, and the hucksters became
merely the object of ridicule. Not long
afterward a kind-hearted clergymen, the
known as Father Zucker, fell into
same trap. He had some money, and
the moving appeal of a lady in distress
touched his heart. He responded to
the advertisement, was charmed and
affected by the tale of misfortune, and
advanced nearly a thousand dollars on
some paste diamonds which could be
bought for a trifle.
Tom Ochiltree was years ago a partner
with his father in the law business at
Galveston, Texas. The old gentleman
went away for a few days, and on re¬
turning found stretched across the office
an immense signboard, on which was
painted in huge letters: “ T. P. Ochiltree
and Father, Counselors and Attorneys a
Law.”
GRE&T REDUCTION l
fall, Clock's, Jiwifr lie? aM Plates firs.
HHUE LAttGEST ANO MOST COMPLETE STOCK IN XQE OITT, COMPRISING AU LINES G«
I goods usually iupt in a
FIRST-CLASS JEWELRY STORE !
Is now being offered GREATLY REDUCED PRICES LOR CASK, with a view to CLOSE OUT STOCK
and change investment. Most of the goods are now and desirable, and BOUGHT AT HAKD-TIME
PRICES!
SPECTACLES and EYE-GLASSES, GUNS, PISTOLS, CUTLERY,
Table-ware, Musical Instruments, Fine Violins, Etc.
Mr. W. F. STARK will assist in sales, and gladly welcome all his friends and sell tbwn
BAKUAliSS*
REPAIRING! fisted to Vetches old Spectacle nicely adjusted Frames. at Lowest Prices. Quus and Pistols Repaired. Finest
Pebbles ana Glasses
CAEjXj .A-ietflD SJE333.
Yours, Yery truly,
W. A. TALMADGE,
Col I e sge Avenue, Opposite Postoffice. AT G A.
K. CHELDS. R. NICKERSON. r. H. WIN?
CHILDS, NICKERSON * ta VW _*r m 9
No. 15 Franklin House Building, Athens, Ga.,
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALERS IN
E3I .A. S, ID -W A. s, E,
IinSlul, Sails, Hub aj hit Slits, In Sk Haul
Agricultural Implements, Leads, Oils, Glass and Varnish, Harness, Leather
Niiliburn Wagons, Cotton, Manilla and Jute Rope,
Carnage and Saddlery Hardware, Felloes, Hubs, Spokes, Buggy Wheels, BellSi Axles Surintra A t*
Rubber and Leather Belting, Mill Saws, Mill Finding*: Anvil*,
Hollow Ware, etc. Manufacturers’ Agents for the sale ot ’
PAlRBArirKS’ STA3V3DAIL3D SCALES,
Cider Mills, Syrup Mills and Evaporators, Watt Plows, Farmers’ Friend Plow, Pumps Cir
cular Saws, Winships’ & Sawyers’ Celebrated Cotton Gin. ’
Also Agents lor Hall’s and Massey’s Fire and Burglar Proof Safes.
5^"Any article in onr line not in stock, will be ordered when desired with the least
possible delay.
CALL AND EXAMINE OUR STOCK AND PRICES.
Chief Ouray.
Chief Ouray, of the Ute Indians,
whose death took place recently at the
Los Pinos agency, Colorado, was one of
the most remarkable of Indian states¬
men since the death of Black Hawk and
Red Jacket. He was born probably
within the present territory of Colo¬
rado when some that region fifty-five nominally or sixty belonged years ago, to
Mexico, but was utterly unknown to
white men. The important tribe of
Utes, of vftiich he wa3 the most con¬
spicuous individual, occupied an im¬
mense territory, embracing a large part
of Utah (which derives its name from
the tribe), and nearly all of Colorado
west of the rocky mountains. The chief
settlements of the Utes were upon the
Colorado river audits upper tributaries,
the Grand,Green, White, Gunnison and
San J uan rivers. They are divided into
several bands, under separate chieftains,
the best known bands being the Uintah
Utes in Utah, the White River Utes,
the Southern Utes and the Uncompahgre
Utes, the latter being the most numer¬
ous and the one to which Ouray be¬
longed. The name is derived from the
range of mountains which they in¬
habited, and this probably from the
Spanish fellow godfather, words un compadre, literally a
ing good friend. but coloquially mean¬
a Ouray became ac¬
quainted Mexicans in early the life northern with some of the
on confines of
New Mexico, traded with them and
learned the Spanish language so as to
be able to use it in conversation. Since
the settlement of Colorado and Utah by
Americans he came into close relations
with many settlers, and was known
as the white man’s friend. Many
years ago, while hunting east
of the Rocky mountains, his only child,
a boy twelve years old, was captured by
the Sioux and is believed to be still liv¬
ing. This was the greatest grief of his
life, and he repeatedly,and not unreason¬
ably, appealed to the influence of tlie
“Great Father” at Washington, to
secure treaty his relations return. with ^Since bis the tribe opening Ouray of
vapidly habits adopted many of the distinctive
of civilization. Though the
greater part of the Utes remained
savages, he learned from the whites the
methods of agriculture, established a
farm of sixty acres on which he raised
good fortable crops and cattle, and built a c >m
house and had it well furnished.
Governor McCook, of Colorado made
him a present of a handsome carriage,
and with a stylish team and Mexican
driver, he was able to “ astonish the
natives” by his magnificence. Being a
natural diplomatist, he soon learned the
secret of communicating his views to
the Indian department or directly to
the President, and used to sign his name
to such letters as he caused to be writ¬
ten. He made at least three visits to
Washington, being received with prop¬
er attention. His efforts to avert war
last year in connection with the Meeker
murder by the White River Utes, his ap¬
pointment as peace commissioner along
with one or two white men, his eloquent
speeches on the grievances of his tribe,
his visit to Washington last winter and
his appearance before the Committee
on Indian affairs, will be remembered
by our readers. Quite recently he had
been negotiating the sale of a large
portion-of Ute reservation in Colorado,
but hi3 premature death will probably
render it difficult to accomplish that
coveted object.— New York Herald,
Pins and a Woman’s Dress.
Our wife wants a new dress. After
two or three or a half dozen stores
have been ransacked for the goods the
dressmaker is sought out. The matter
of measurement is tedious, and then the
matter of fittinvis one of numerous and
repeated trials. FinaHy the dress is
finished and sent home. Then it is
sent back to be taken in here and let
out there, ana at last, after tlie customer
has been fitted more times for that one
dress than her husband has been
measured in three or four years, the
dress comes home for the last time and
is pronounced by the wearer, her friends
and the dressmaker as a beautiful and
perfect Beautiful fit, and it is finished.
it certainly is, far more
beautiful than anything her husband
ever wears. Colors: and materials,
style, blending shades in and contrasting
bits of colors, are all the perfection
of good taste. No man can improve
upon that. But, it isn’t finished. When
it is completed as far as the skill of the
dressmaker can finish it,and it is put on.
it has to be pinned somewhere; some
times in two or three often in a half
dozen places. Leave out the pin and
the dress Is all awry somewhere. On
all thi3 broad continent there is not one
American woman who can dress so as to
make any kind of an appearance in
society Now, without pins.
suppose our tailor should send
our suit home and on puting on the coat
we had to pin it in the neck? Or eup
pose there was no suspender-button alt,
and we had to use pins there? tup
pose he made our shirts so that we
would have to pin on tlie collar, how
long would a shirt or a ueh a suit of
clothes slay in the house? Who would
be responsible for the language used by
the man who had to pin his coat?
No tailor would care to so tampt the
wrath of an independent man. But
women—alas! she patiently pins on the
dress that she paid some |‘30 or $40 to
make, and don’t think anything about
it. We will not pursue this painful
subject. think Let the women of America
it up and think about it and learn,
in the noble independence of women
hood, to make their clothes before they
put them on .—Burlington Hawk eye.
McWhorter bros.,
Attorneys ani Counselors at Lais
LEXINGTON, 1 Georgia.
GREENESBOKO,
Will practice in all the Courts— State and
Federal.
POYNER & KENNEBREW,
Attorneys & Counselors at Lav.
LEXINGTON and CRAWFORD, GA.
Will promptly attend to all business en¬
trusted to their care,
JOS. N. WORLEY,
Attorney and Counselor at Lav,
ELBERTON, GA.,
Will practice in the counties of Franklin, Ogle¬
thorpe, ties. Elbert, Hart, and the adjoining coon*
^oldest QTIOULD music old acquaintance house in be Georgia. forget!
The subscriber respectfully informs the pub¬
lic tlidt he has once more taken the helm in
hand that he has held so satisfactory to his
friends for the last thirty-one years in Au¬
gusta,^and hopes, with the assistance of his
son, T. HARRY OATES, to be able to drive
business in such a manner as to get his shans
sf it and to show that he will sell Pianos and
Organs as cheap as the cheapest and as good
as the best. All he asks is a trial, and those
who do not give him a chance are the losers.
A good assortment of choice Stationery, Books,
etc., always on hand at lowest prices.
GEO. A. OATES, Agent.
Pianos Tuned and Repaired in the best man¬
ner by T. Harry Oates, who has the highest
recommendations. All orders punctually at¬
tended to.
Disciplining the C'at.
Grandma Slocum was busy over her
sewing sitting-room, in the warm, quiet air of the
and grandpa was stiivinv
to convince himself that he was reading
a paper, despite a vague impression that
he was falling asleep, w’’en both were
brought to their feet by a sudden crash
in the pantry. “It’s that cat!” said
grandpa. But grandma, who seldom
ventured to express an opinion before
looking into the question, said nothing
and hastened to the scene of the dis¬
aster.
As she opened the door of the pantry
the unfortunate cat darted out, and
grandpa, armed with the broom, started
in pursuit around the spacious kitchen.
The cat, however, was too nimble for
his rather clumsy movements, and he
was obliged to desist without having
accomplished anything more than
thoroughly “I’ll frightening the animal.
teach the critter!” he exclaimed.
‘ Forever on she!ves and tables! Only
yesterday had she chawed up the chicken
you laid away, and last week skim¬
med half a dozen pans of milk! What’s
she done now?” and pushing open the
! pantry door, he beheld his wife gazing
sorrowfully several down at the fragments of
china plates, among which lay an old
teapot, which had belonged to
grandpa’s mother, and was bald in great
reverence by the family.
For a moment grandpa stood speech¬
less with indignation. He was so lavish
with his tongue upon ordinary occur
rences he could find nothing to say
which could fully express his mind on
this occasion. When he did speak, it
was only to say, very quietly:
“T wouldn’t have taken money for
that teapot.”
Then he turned away, leaving grand
ma to gather, up tlie fragments, and
went out to the woodpile to vent his
feelings in quick, heavy blows, continu
ing the exercise until night,
Meanwhile grandma had examined
the teapot and thought it could be
mended. To be sure, the nose and the
handle were broken off, but if they were
still ingeniously puttied on again, it would
be serviceable,
So, very carefully, she cemented the
broken pieces together, placed the
whole behind the new stove that the
joints might harden, and returned to
her sewing, where at length, overcome
by the warmth and quiet, she fell
asleep.
At dusk grandpa came into the kitch
en to see if supper was about ready,
Grandma was not in the room. His eye
caught the glimmer of white behind the
stove. “Nice Kitty!” he said, coax
ingly. “Pretty Kitty! Did she want
to be petted? Well, she should. Just
let me get within three feet on ye. and
we’ll see whether there’ll be any more
crockery Warn’t smashed! Yes; po-or kitty!
satisfied with eatin’ off a ehiny
plate. Had to see what wa 3 on tbe
shelves, hey? Let me get two steps
nearer, and I’ll never ask another favor
of ye! Ni-i-ce kitty 1 Take that, you
varmint!”
The heavy foot struck the object with
terrific force. There was a jingling
crash, fated grandma screamed, and the ill
in fifty teapot scurried across the kitchen
Grandpa pieces.
pletely surprised was probably in his never so com
lifa. But in a
moment the ridiculousness of his per
foimance overcame him, and he dropped
into a chair, laughing heartily,
He made no further attempt to discip
line the cat,
The woman who really wishes to re¬
fuse contents herself by saying no.
She who explains wants to be con¬
vinced.