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tnanriitG nun.
BT GAJIRIK ▼. BRANT
fHwpwtfully d*.l fern ted to Oliver Wendell Holme*.)
“Time cl aim* Its tril-nte: Alien e* now la golden;
Let me not vex the tv-' long suffering Ijre;
Though to your love untiring yet beholden,
The curfew telle too, Co\er up the tire.”
—O. H r . Ultimas' •• Iron Got/,"
Friend, I have known tboo from my early childhood
Here U a j'dctnre tliou wilt un<lfi>t*uid :
A
A book of poems in onu soiled brovru hand.
The pictured child i* pie. sna thine the poem.
On uicb the eon! l. feeding there;
when the years \v repast she said, “ I k now him—
lluvo known him front my childhood.'’ Was it luir?
N-'-w tor the *Hke of th- 1 elldw-’-'d sweetness,
And fqt* WmSv* ndunte lrcnms that children dream,
I wish to write thro, In thy i : 's completeness,
Expressing my regard and my esteem.
I wish to nay to thee that though the nunil>er
Of thy fair years l>c now throe score and ten,
The fire thy genlun kindled Khali not slumber;
Once lighted, it can not go out again.
This fire, undying an the soul that, breathing
Upon oold ashes, turns them Into flame,
Bhall burn for many pleasant years, still wreathing
New garlands of immortelles round thy name.
And may the warmth and fragrance of the morning
Be round about th- o ns the sunset fades.
When twilight dews fall gently, aH in warning
Of dangers in the night’s intrusive shades.
And when, at last. Peace visits thy calm pillow,
A smiling angel—not Death, chill and drear—
Oh, may the south wnnl whisper to the willow
To slug the songs thou most hath loved to hear 1
Then, as with falling tenrs wo bend above thoe,
And know the fire of life is all gone out.
We will not call thee dead, but we who love thee
Will gather up the treasures strewn about;
We’ll build a temple o'er tno glowing embers,
The fragrant Blossoms of thy genius rare,
And guard the fire to prove that love remembers
Ihe hand that lit the incense burning there.
Oh ! brightly shall it burn through all the summer,
And brightly burn when winter’s snows are white,
And when the day is dead and earth grows dumber
We’ll keep it shining through tha fog* of uigpt.
And if anon by chance the fire should smolder,
Love, kneeling low, will fan it with her breath.
Then snail each ember that was growing colder
Flash its red light up in the face of death.
And Death, abashed, with pallid brow grown whiter,
Shall sbinnktlnto the shadows whence ho came.
While the oldylamee shall leap up higher, brighter,
And write in words of scarlet fire thy name.
Immortal light, that never can grow dimmer;
Immortal lire, that never can grow cold ;
Immortal genius, with the sunrise glimmer;
Immortal name, traced in tha sunset’s gold!
WHO Aft 13 IRI'MES?
BY MISS EMMA MERIWETHER.
Friends, indeed, who arc they, pray?
Do they come to us on the darkest day?
Do they lighten the load when we are w ary?
Bring words of comfort, when all seems dreary T
Do they proffer aid to lesson our task?
Are they willing to grant the favors we ask?
And when fate’s aeai • us, troubles endured,
Every ray of sunshine completely obscured,
Do they come to us then, in that hour of trial
And prove their sincerity bv true self-denial?
By deeds not words, give evidence of worth,
That our grief, though great, may die at its birth?
Ah! few such friend* are found in the land,
Ever willing to lend that helping hand,
To lift the fallen, and sincerity evince
To the high or low-born, peasant or prince.
A TARDY REMINDER.
I.
The back-log in our great Texas fire
place hail just been punched after B,n
approved method, and the flames were
leaping up as flames will on windy
nights, roaring steadily and starting
shadow dances in the comers of the
room. Suddenly some quick change
subdued the flame till it merely hung in
the smoke above the hearth, and at this
moment a most unearthly sound, ap
parently at our very door, startled me
mto an unbecoming posture, that was
taken advantage of by my friend, who
thereupon indulged in a succession of
chuckles of a kind I could never locate
in him. He soon recrossed his legs,
however—he could never chuckle ex
cept with feet wide apart—saying as he
did so:
“You never heard a screech-owl be
fore, I reckon. We hear them often in
Indiany—often,” and he added, after a
moment, more intensely, and as if a
little startled by some thought—“often.”
“ Was that an owl ? Heavens !it sound
ed more like the scream of a locomotive
whistle.”
“I’ve a notion of writin’ home to
night, Jim.”
“ You have ?” It startled me almost
as much—quite in a different way—as
the screech-owl’s terrible song. The
words carried me back to our place of
meeting a year before. Taking a Mis
sissippi river boat at Cairo, I found I
must share my state-room with another
—or rather he with me, since I was the
later comer. He did not strike me
favorably at first. I was a New En
gland boy and suspicious of everything
south of St. Louis, and this man looked
not unlike the men I had been cautioned
against. He could not very well help
that, indeed, since I had been warned in
very general terms that included every
one I did not Imow, However, we shook
hands, exchanged some remarks meant
to be facetious, and in a few days I knew
his name—William Jackson.
“At home they call me Bill—short,
like myself, you see,” he said, and
grinned in a bashful sort of a way that
came very near to capturing me on the
spot. In fact, he was not short, but,
instead, the tallest man I ever saw of
his length of leg and body ; for what he
lost elsewhere he made up in a neck
that never ceased to be a wonder to me.
It ran up like the watch-tower of a fire
engine house, slim and so long that,
while his shoulders barely reached mine,
his head overhung all others, and was
two inches more than six feet above the
ground. His head was large, too, and
that made his general appearance more
striking, while the general slimness ol
his body ended below in a pair of enor
mously large feet. His face was much
tanned and smooth-shaven, except the
upper lip, which was covered by a coarse
stubble of fierce-standing, sandy hair.
But no description of hum would be
complete that did not touch on that
feature of his countenance which was of
ten concealed entirely and which would
have made him trusted anywhere. Asa
fellow-traveler said, “His general looks
is agin him. but his mouth captures me. ”
He said his mout! i, but he meant his
laugh—not that tin i was much noise
about it, but it was > far-reaching in its
effect on his own person. First, around
his mouth would break two deep
wrinkles; then outside of these two
more; and so on, on till his eyes were
brought into the whirlpool of wrinkles
and the long-standing ones on his neck
and forehead shaped themselves to the
general effect of one upreme expression
of delight It was then you believed
him from your very heart I did, and he
never, as he himself would express it,
“ threw dirt” on me.
After all, he had, so far as I learned,
little to often bring forth so great a
revelation on his face. But few of the
amenities of life had 1 >een his at any time.
He said little of home—“ somewhere in
Indiany”—except when at one time he
spoke bitterlv of his dead father’s grand
mistake in life, which it appeared was
simply this, (flat V kept his children
(boys and girls, a large family) on the
farm till he die then they came of ne
cessity out into the world to find them
•slvss great, grown-up babies—nothing
Hamilton Journal.
LAMAR & DENNIS. Publishers.
VOL. VIII--NO. 31).
more—without any other feeling thau
that they must, as Jim said, ‘‘hitch on
to someone. ” All the girls, hut one
who died, were too old to “ hitch on.”
The boys did the best they could in that
line, and after a time Jim “ hitched on"
to me—it was in New Orleans, after com ■
iug down from Cairo—and we soon be
came what at the West they call “ pards. ”
We were friends, at any rate, and, hav
ing joined forces to the amount of ahont
$350, were farming in Texas on poor
lands on what our landlord called
“ sheers;” that Is, he furnished the tools,
mules and land and we the brains and
human muscle, keeping our own house
and dividing the spoils—tlmt is, the
crops—equally.
So, knowing how little he looked to
any other home than the one around
him, I could but question liis “ notion,”
and add:
“ Who to, Jim ? ” a rather thought
less question.
His voice went down almost the whole
length of that wonderful neck, I thought,
as he threw his face forward into his
hands, and, staring into a dark corner
of the fire, said :
“A woman.”
“A woman, Jim ? why, wlia— ! Oh,
a sister, perhaps?” I said, seeking the
only refuge that seemed at hand.
“No. * * * no sister.” A lone
pause. “It’s like this,” and ho said
nothing more for some minutes, but ab
sently reached over for his violin and
picked the strings for an almost-forgot
ten chord. It seemed to me that his
brain and fingers were working together,
although he did not kuow it. At last
he evidently reached what he was after,
for he twanged the strings more confi
dently and said, laving aside the violin :
“ It’s like this : \Vo never said noth
ing to nobody, nor to ourselves neither,
for that matter. But she knowed I
thought a whole farm of her and always
shall—oh, how good she’s been to me) ”
and he fiercely clutched bis knees, his
features distorted and iris eyes in tears.
Good to him 1 Well, thought I, if ever
any woman loved Jim she was good to
him ; she couldn’t have wanted him for
anything else. How homely and an
gular he looked, his long neck shot out
oward tho tire, which in February is
needed, even in Texas, to take off the
chill.
Presently he straightened up.
“ No, there wasn’t nothing said, but
she knowed me, and when I left she
asked me to write her, and I’m going to
do it. She’s bin waitin’ now too long,”
Then he stopped abruptly and, began to
look back over the months, while I held
my breath.
“My God, man, it’s ’ni’ on two year,”
he said, and, it seemed to me, he saw in
a moment what his long neglect might
mean ; that it had been the very refine
ment of cruelty. He at once began
with an almost feverish haste to make
ready his writing tools—only to hesitate,
pen in hand, over the white paper I
handed him, writing little at a time, and
not concluding till his lamp had out
burned the back-log, and its coals
smoldered sullenly on the hearth. Then,
muttering something about a screech
owl near her house, he crept into bed.
What excuses he put forth in his let
ter I never knew. They would not, I
am quite certain, have answered for any
love letter I might have sent about that,
time after two years’ silence ; though, to
be sure, “wo” (taking the reader into
confidence for a moment) were both
younger at that time, while Jackson was
30, if a day. He may have urged that
ho was a poor letter-writer. That was
true. I have yet to see his equal in
power to wTeak a really appalling ven
geance on words which, many are now
agreed, have a greediness for letters
oidy equaled by their inexcusably be
wildering arrangement of the same. And
his way of making up sentences was
something wonderful. He may have
urged, too, that he had worked early
and late with scarce a moment of relaxa
tion. That was true of both of us. and
I had written many times.
Whatever ho may have said in that
letter, to which he brought so many
pains, I fear he did not hit on the true
reason for his long silence ; indeed, it is
possible, oven probable, that he did not
know of it himself. For my part, it
seemed then, as it seems now, that he
had not written, simply because he had
not at any time, or for any pur
pose, found in letters so ready a
means of communication that he
turned to them without effort. And,
more than all, he had lived by her side
in daily thought since the hour in which
they parted. His memory of her many
graces was as fresh on the hundredth
day as on the second ; and, had it been
four years of silence instead of two, her
face and form would have been as dis
tinct in his mind at the end of that long
time as though daily letters bad passed
between them. A contemplation almost
constant had brought her to him to com
fort and oonsole him at any moment.
Then, too, he had “hitched on," and,
though a man grown, had conceded to'
me every right that was his in the man
agement of our small business Honest
himself—almost pitiably honest, for it
came from an innocence that bad been
kept fresh by ignorance of more than a
quarter of a century —he placed the
fullest faith in the man he had chosen
to work with. So he felt much at ease,
with little thought of the future, except
when long droughts, under a sky like
brass, made us despair of profit from
farming in Texas. He rested in the love
he was sure of, and did not once think
that the flame he hud somjhow fanned
into sight—miracle though it must have
seemed to him, for he knew that he was
homely—would need any further care to
be kept alive and at a fervent glow.
All this passed in my mind while
riding five miles the following evening
to post the precious letter, which I
dreaded to let out of my hand. So
much depended on it that it seemed
impossible that it should go aright in
the usual prosaic way, in common mail
bags.
Once away from town, however, and
on the upland prairie, the matter looked
differently.
“ Heaven be praised for that screech
owl,” I said aloud. “Bill will have to
take one for his coat of arms—adding a
steel pen and holder, perhaps. * * *
It’s a pity, though, that the owl waited
so long. ’ It was a tardy reminder.”
I mentioned the coat of arms to him
when he dropped his violin for a mo
ment as I canto in, and he took it good
naturedly. So far as I could see—and
Jackson concealed nothing, he was like
a child in that—every thought of the
wrong he had done had gone away with
the letter, and he evidently had no fear
of 'the result.
"I told her.” hAtooid, bounding his
bow about ou the tense strings, “that I
was dogoned sorry I had forgot mv
promise to write—’twaan’t ’cause 1 didn't
think of her with ev’ry seed of ootton
and ev’ry kernel of com we planted, and
with ev’ry step I made ; I seen her face
in everything I did, and when I see a
pretty sight she seen it, too, and there's
lots of strange things here. ”
Wliat a sight for hot-house lovers
this, the glow that came to Jackson’s
face as he dropped his violin across his
knees and lingered in thought on the
happy moments they had eaon day spent
together, only in unagination 1 * That
they were imagined scones never oc
curred to him, for he saw in her faoe
from time to time all the pleasure she
would have onjoyod in noting with him
the strange features of a oountry strange
to both.
“Yes,” he said, striving for s few mo
ments to bring a refractory string into
Imrinoav with its fellows, snd than
drawing round, sweet notes the length
of liis bow—“ Yes, I’m dogoned sorry,
but she knows me! ”
m.
There should have been an answer to
the letter in about txvo weeks if she was
hke other women. But two, yes, three
weeks and more passed by without a
word. The fire died out on our hearth,
as the hot summer came on swiftly, and
was not renewed. March surrouuded
us and revealed wonders to the limited
New England experience which barely
becomes acquainted with the sun of the
extreme Southern States. April came
and, going out into the past, left thirty
perfect days behind. Lower Texas
liodecked in a suit of green, not laid on
as a remnant, but with a lavislinesg al
most wasteful, smiled in your face at
iirst and then laughed aloud, her notes
of joy bubbling from a thousand throats.
Animal life, concealed before, crept out
and basked on the glaring stones. Tho air
was in a constant hum, unnoticed by
some, but intense to those whose ears
were attuned to it The very earth at
our feet seemed to throb with life
It was just opening May when 1 came
from the postoffice one evening and laid
down before Jackson the letter he
had mailed weeks before. It came from
the Dead Letter Office—that morgue of
so many hopes—and in the same mail
was a paper from what had been his
homo town, together with letters for my
self. He was playing on his violin when
I came in, but stopped at once.
I do not think that at first be felt so
deeply sorry that it had miscarried as I
did, but he was perplexed all the even
ing long, and could not understand why
the letter had not reached her. He sat
several hours turning the letter over and
over, noting the different post marks,
but not offering to re-read wliat he hod
written, and evidently trying herd to
frasp the situation fully. He gave s
eep sigh at last, and, without getting
up from his chair, laid the letter by,
though still in sight. He then took the
home paper and scanned its meager col
umns carelessly, looking first, as one
aways from his former home does, at the
list of deaths and marriages. They were
few and of no special interest to him ;
but as he glanced over another column,
devoted for the most part to small town
talk, he must have seen this paragraph,
for he fell forward on his face like one
about to die if not already dead, crush
ing his violin beneath liim, its deep
moan joining discordantly with the
mocking hoot of the screech-owl far out
in the darkness.
We regret to learn just oh we go to press to
day that Mrs. Henry T. Ooodwell, wife of our
esteemed townsman of that name, died last
night after a brief illness of three days. The
circumstances of her death were peculiarly
painful and most distressing. Mrs. Ooodwell
has been married less than a year, and will be
remembered by many of our readers as Miss
Esther Harton, who Uved until she was mar
ried at the home of Thomas Jackson, brother
of the late William Jackson, Hr. Hhe was a
lovely woman, and the grim destroyer has in
deed smoto heavily. Our heartfelt sympathies
are with the husband in thia his dire extremity,
his hour of trial.
rv.
Several months later I talked with the
writer of the above lines, in his “ sanc
tum,” as he frequently called it. I
found him a shrewd Yankee who made
his paper simply a lever to move other
matters to his benefit, and the “best
fixed ” man (so he phrased it) in the
county. I questioned him some as to
Miss Esthers marriage.
“ She’d been goin’ with the Jackson
you speak of, as you say,” he answered.
“ But I’d know’s there was anythin’ be
tween them. S'posin’ there was; a wom
an can’t wait forever for a man to spit
it out, and he wan’t much to wait tor
anyway. I guess he was honest ennufi
’afar as that goes, bur ‘ no great shakes,j
as they say here ; he was always * hitch
in’ on’ to someone. Besides, Tom—
that is, Thomas Jackson—got jxxir and
hadn't a plaoe for her, and in short it
was marry or go among strangers.
Times was hard, and it had to come to
what it did, though she hesitated—hesi
tated more’n you oould ask. perhaps.”
A oonn.E of disbelievers in spiritual
ism attended a sceance in San Francisco,
last week, and after the materialized
spirit of an Indian maiden named Star
Eye had given one of them a lot of glu
cose ‘from his dead sister,” though he
never had a sister, he slipped a police
man’s nippers on the wrist of the “ spirit ”
and held her till his friend turned up the
gas. The spirit proved to I xs the wife of
the medium. The medium then ap
peared with a materialized club, ami
wafted the man over the head with the
subtle influence, cutting a hole in his
scalp, and the two barely escajied with
their lives. The “manifestations ” were
very " strong ” that evening, all the con
ditions being highly favorable, fora row.
—Peck'a Hun.
“ DUM SPIRO, SPERO.”
HAMILTON* GAm SUPTKMIiUU ‘23, 1880.
SOUTHERN NEWS.
Texas has an immense pecan crop.
Coaches is becoming fashionable at
Richmond.
They pay $1 eaoh for wild-oat scalps
in Florida.
Durham, N. 0., expects to handle 18,-
000,000 pounds of this year's tobacco
crop.
The population of Hernando Couuty,
Fla., has increased fifty per cent, sinoe
1870.
The money-order business at Macon,
Ga., amounted, during the last official
year, to $250,000.
A farmer named Jackson, bring near
Savannah, has over 3d,000 tea plants on
his farm.
The counties of Cherokee, Graham,
Swain, Jackson and Maoou, N. C., con
tain 1,109 Indians.
PHYSioiANsin Montgomery are alarmed
at the increase of cigarette smoking
among boys in that city.
Jerry BnoKr.uu, a letter-carrier in
Nashville, has walked fourteen miles
every day, exoept ou Sunday, for four
teen years.
MiiiiiF.noi!vrr/M ships 15,000 bales ot
cotton annually, lias over sixty business
houses, a college with near 400 students,
and yet lias no banking-house.
Michael Drayton, a hyena-tamer
connected with Coup’s Circus, was torn
to pieces by three infuriated hyenas
during the stroet parade at Winchester,
Virginia.
Bill Arp is about to start on a lecture
tour in the South, his subject being,
“Dixie now and Dixie then.” Arp’s
real name is Charles TT. Smith, and he
is an elder in the Presbyterian Church.
An ox was captured in the river at
Mosby’s Point, twenty-eight miles above
Wilmington, N. C., by a negro man on
a flatboat and towed to the city, swim
ming behind the boat every foot of the
way.
Florida fruit-growers are beginning
to cultivate tho lemon with a great deal
of care, and with such good results that
it is believed that in a little while longer
this State will furnish almost as many
lemons to the trade as she now does
oranges.
The dam on Hutchinson’s Island, op
posite Savannah, which is intended to
keep the river from overflowing and in
that, way improves the sanitary oondition
of tho city, has been -completed. It is
seven feet high, ten feet wide at the base
and six feet at the top.
A white boy appeared on the street
yesterday having a basket which con
tained over two dozen alligator eggs,
which he found in a nest on Cross Lake
and which ho was retailing at ten cents
each. Several of the eggs were broken,
when it was discovered they all con
tained embryo alligators, which led
some of the purchasers to bury tlieir eggs
in mud and sand, as is the fashion of
that animal, with the hope of hatching
out a brood of alligators. —Shreveport
{La.) Times.
The next issue of the Southern histori
cal papers will oontain a letter written by
the President of the late Southern Con
federacy in relation to a long dispute,
that it seems has been going on among
some of the friends of the two parties in
terested concerning the command of At
lanta, why Mr. Davis put the late Gen.
Hood in charge instead of Gen. Hardee.
The letter is addressed to Gen. Roy, who
was a member of Gen. Hardee’s staff. In
this correspondence Mr. Davis speaks in
the kindest und most complimantry
terms of the high character and military
skill of both these gentlemen.—Peters
burg Index- Appeal.
'J’he authorities of the Charlotte, Co
lumbia and Augusta Railroad, have posi
tively declined to pay its portion of the
assessment for the salary of the State
Railroad Commissioner of South Caro
lina tliis year. Last year the South
Carolina Railroad was the only one
which did not contribute its proportion,
but the amount in question, and its as
sessment for this year, were paid several
weeks ago. The Savannah and Charles
ton, Greenville and Columbia, North
eastern and Wilmington and Columbia
arid Augusta Railroad authorities have
so far taken no notice of an unofficial
note of the Commissioner asking infor
mation as to their intentions hi the
matter.
Capital Punishment.
The punishment of death, as the
penalty tor murder, has prevailed from
the earliest times in all parts of the
world In most nations treason or rebel
lion against lawful government has also
been thus punished; and in England and
elsewhere, down to a very reoent period,
the same has been tme of counterfeiting,
forgery, mail robbery, and several other
crimes. In some of the Southern States
at the present time burglary is punish
able by hanging. The manner of execu
tion varies greatly. Military criminals,
in modem times, are usually shot. In
civil administrations the modes most
prevalent have leen decapitation upon
the “block,” used for political criminals
of rank in England; the guillotine in
France; in Spainish countries the parrot/-;
but in most countries now, hanging. In
Jupan, for some, offenses, the criminal is
condemned to take his own life in the
presence of officials. In China decapita
tion is the usnal form of death for crimi
nals, unless the crime is of the worst
character, when the felon is pinioned to
a cross and cut into pieces, by removing
first the eyelids, then the lips, nose,
cheeks, arms, legs, and afterward dis
emboweling and quartering.
MURDER UNPUNISHED.
A Art An Old-Tlnio f'Allfornln
|{pnilnlMH > nr<>.
[Nerml.t Trftuicript.
The duel betweeu Major Dibble, of the
nnvy, and Jim Lundy, tho gambler,
which occurred at Industry Bar, on the
main Yuba, in this county, has been n
fruitless theme for numberless compilers
of pioneer history. S. 8. Crafts, a mer
chant of Alleghany, who called at the
JYatlsoript office day before yesterday,
says that in all the accounts yet pub
lished tho principal points wore wrongly
stated. Ho was m the camp at tho time,
and relates tho cirouinstanoes of tho
bloody incident as follows: •
On the evening of October 24, 1851, a
number of men were sitting around the
table after supper, whiling away tho time
spinning yarns, cracking jokes, and sing
ing songs
“ When was it that fruit first swore?"
suddenly' interrupted Major Dibble, who
had taken but a slight part in tho pro
ceedings until now.
The listeners made one or two efforts
to guess the answer, and then gave it up.
“When the apple damned the pear, of
course,” explained the joker.
All laughed but Jim Lundy, between
whom and the Major there had never
been any love lost. He glanced at
the latter in an ugly way and hissed,
“ It’s no such tiling!’ 1
The color left Dibble’s cheeks, and his
eyes blazed like two suns. It looked for
a moment an though he was going to
tackle liis insulter right there. Then bv
a powerful effort he controlled himself,
and his face began to assume a scarlet
hue.
“ You must not oontradiot me in such
a way,” lie said in a low, determined
tone. “Yon have done it too often al
ready. ”
Lundy gave expression to a contempt
uous sneer.
“You are a lying, thieving
than yon are 1” These words came from
the gambler with a ring that showed he
wanted them to strike home.
“ Very well, sir,” responded the out
raged trooper; "we will try it on when
General Moreliead comes over from No
vada City.”
Both men xvere crack shots and had
plenty of moral courage. The pioneers
at the Bar knew there would be at least
ono funeral iu their midst liefore many
hours elapsed.
Dibble and Mr. Crafts slept together
that night, and Lundy, taking his blan
kets, camped out alone 011 a side-liill.
'The first named spent part of the night
in writing letters to liis friends in tho
East. lie indited several lengthy epis
tles, one being to tho faithful and high
bred sweetheart who was anxiously
awaiting his return from the land of gold,
and another to liis aged father and
mother.
The antagonists met at sunrise. Major-
General Moreliead was Dibble's second,
and Charley Morse was Lundy’s.
Fifteen paces was measured off, and
the challenger and challenged took their
places.
J 11st as tho god of day peejied over a
pilie-firinged hill to the east the prepara
tions were declared complete.
“Gentlemen, are you ready?”
Before the echo of the sentence had
died away, and wliile Dibble was in the
act of raising his weapon, there was a
sharp report from the other’s pistol.
A momentary look of consternation
flittod over Dibble’s handsome face.
“You , yon fired before
the xyird. You have nearly killed mo,”
he cried. Then, pressing one hand to
his liroast, lie whirled around like mad
once or twice, and fell dead in his tracks.
The bullet found its resting plaoe in the
young man’s heart.
1 uindy woe indicted, tried, and found
guilty. The proceedings were shown to
have been irregular, and lie was granted
anew trial. The matter dragged along
a year or two, some of the witnesses dis
appeared from the country, and finally a
nolle prosequi was entered.
Hew Joseph Cook Rends and Studies.
Lyman Abbott writes to the Chrixtlan
Union: Joseph Cook carries a railroad
“Shakespeare," and prepares his quota
tions for his unique lecture on the
“Shakespeare Conscience,” on the cars,
lie picks up everywhere; gathers every
thing. But in private ho bewails his
treacherous memory. I never knew a
stink-nt yet who did not seem to grow in
di,quant with himself over the undue pro
portion of nil that ho ever learned that
iie habitually forgot. Mr. Cook is no ex
ception fo the rule. Yet ho marvelously
jin serves and utilizes the results of his
readings. His methods are peculiar. I
violate no confidence, and I may give
aid to students, lay and clerical, if 1 report
here these methods, as he told them to
me. Ti’iis preserving machinery consists
of three pieces:
1. lie always carries with him a cheap
memorandum book. In this he jots
down, wherever ho happens to he, a
thought, a sentence, a figure that strikes
him. The book fills up quickly. Then
anew one takes its place. He trusts his
memory to serve as an index to BUggest
to him the date of the reading, the inci
dent, or the thought there noted.
2. Ho also carries a package of com
mercial note paper. Any extract in a
book not in bis own library, any fact or
figure worthy of more careful preserva
tion, ho notes on a half-sheet of paper.
These are assorted according to a few
large titles. The homogeneous ones are
pinned together. As the pile increases
they are sewed. “I am going to lecture
to-night,” said ho to me, “on ‘Ultimate
America.’ I put in my hag my package
of excerpts on America—a hundred or
more—and k>k over them this afternoon
as a lost preparation before fgo on the
platform ’’ This method gives birr the
full use of Ids resources on each subject
in each lecture.
3. He has not the contempt of some
would-be scholars for the newspapers;
ho mails and uses them. With a red
crayon he marks whatever strikes him as
suggestive; throws the paper into a cor
ner. Mrs. Cook, who is a sort of private
secretary to him, as many another wife
of many another busy literary man, cuts
out the marked articles and lays them
close in an index scraje book. When a
large store has accumulated Mr. Cook
goes over, culls out those of permanent
value, and pastes or otherwise preserves
them; ths rest are destroyed
J. L. DENNIS. Editor.
•sl.oo u Year.
Perfumes - llow They Are Extrnefert.
Hie three principal places Hint furnish
scents to the world are Grasso, Nico and
Cannes in France. In their locality
alone, annually, are consumed :
Pounds. Value.
Ora ago flowers 8,000,000 SBOO,OOO
Dose 1,000,000 78,000
•liiHiiiiue 080,000 50,000
Violet 100,000 35,000
Pn-sie 150,000 80,000
Tuberose 50,000 25,000
I'rum this product iu'e manufactured
1,01)0.00(1 pounds of scouted oils and
gb uses, besides orange flower and rose
waler. From the roue farms in tho
neighborhood of Adrianopole in Turkey
and from Ulmzipoor in India the valua
ble attar of rose is brought. It is true
there are extracts made from flowers of
Spain, Italy and Algeria, but tho south
of France may he said to la. center of
sweet smells. There is a field here in
Louisiana furflower-raising for perfumery t
purposes that lias as yet been bu
slightly improved.
All tho varieties of rose thrive remark
ably well here. Tho jasmine, violet,
cassia, tuberose and orange flower bloom
abundantly with but little cultivation,
and could be made profitable crops if at
tention was directed toward tlaur culti
vation for commercial purposes. All that
is now used here iH the cassie, or aecasia,
and the sour orange blossom. Of those
large quantities are used every year, and
the yield from them compares favorably
with European extracts. The sweet or
ango blossom does not give off that
strong and lasting odor ns does the sour,
and, as the fruit of the latter is seldom
used, the destruction of its blossoms
would not work any serious result*. Out
jasmine, too, is used, hut not in sueli
quantities ns the orange flower.
The modes of extracting tho fra
grance from flowers are four, namely:
Absorption, expression, maueratioii mid
distillation. Tlie process of expres
sion to obtian essences of oil is eon
lined to the citron family, such as the
lemon, orange and bergamot, and lias
generally been performed by grating the
rind. Maceration and absorption, which
aro the most interesting processes, aro
founded on tho affinity of odorous molec
ules for fat* and oils, being readily ab
sorbed by them when brought in contact,
For flowers of strong odor, such as tlie
rose, orange flower, cassie and violet,
maceration is preferred, and is performed
in the following manner: A certain
quantity of grease is put in a large pan,
which is placed in a larger one filled wife
water. A quantity of flowers are thrown
ill tho grease and left to digest a certain
number of hours, tho temperature being
kept warm and tlie flowers stirred. The
contents of tho pan is then passed
through liorse-liair bags, and tho grease
will be found to have extracted all the
fragrance of the flowers.
By absorption, called iu French <n
fleurage, is meant the contact of the
flowers with tho grease without heat,
whioli would injure sueh delicate odors
ns that of the tuberose and josiniiie.
Square glass, with a narrow frame of
wood, is spread over with grease, and
fresh (lowers placed upon this to tho
thickness of the frame. These frames
are placed one upon the other, so as to
exclude the air, and the flowers are
changed daily until tile pomade has ac
quired sufficient strength.
For making extracts for tlie handker
chief this pomade is taken anil alcohol
added to it, to which the odor is readily
given off, and the product is the pure
extract of the flower. However, the
number of flowers cultivated for their
odors are few, the skilled perfumer can
imitate nearly all others by a ju
dicious combination of tho six or
seven he possesses, and in this consists
the important branch of tlm perfumer's
art,. Hw truly urtistie work is iu study
ing the ufliuitius and blending the scents,
as a painter does Ids colors. —New Or
leans Democrat.
Uow (Swinburne Bored Browning.
Hwinhurneis a warm admirer of Brown
ing; Browning a qualified admirer ol
Swinburne. The elder poet once mol
the younger at a railroad station, and
shook his umbrella at bim, exclaiming:
“Ah, yon foolish lsiy, why will you de
grade such splendid talent?” If the
truth must be told, this is but a modified
version of Browning’s actiiul wolds,
which were rather too strong for print.
One day Swinburne called on Browning,
who received him courteously, ami bade
him lie seated, much marveling the while
why he carried with him a small foot
stool. The mystery was soon cleared up,
for Swinburne laid the foot-stool at
Browning’s feet and sat himself there
upon, He could not arrogate equality
with a master of the divine art; his sole
ambition was to sit at bis feet. Brown
ing was profoundly bored, and in mortal
fear that somebody might call and be
come a spectator of the interview. lie
knew his visitor well enough to under
stand that the latter would not budge for
an intruder. It speaks volumes for
Browning’s urbanity that lie conversed
patiently and composedly with the erratic
one for the space of an hour; then—for
Immunity is frail, and some men will not
take a hint—his nerves gave way. “And
now,” said the host, “you must forgive
mo, for I havoan spiKiintment, and must
go.” Swinburne took up his stool and
preceded Browning down stairs. In the
nail he observed that he hail a special
favor to ask. Browning assured him he
would do anything in his power to be of
service to him. Swinburne replied: “It
is that you would allow me to sit at your
feet another five minutes.” The tone was
one of imperturbable gravity Brown
ing assented, and the pair walked up
stairs again. Swinburne carefully re
placed Ins foot-stool and sat out the full
five minutes, but, to do him justice, ik>
longer. Browning’s face, when his
guest had flnafiy departed, must have
been a study.
“Tell me whom you admire, and I
will tell you what you are, ” would be as
good a variation of the well-worn proverb
as any other. The god of Mr. Swin
burne’s idolatry is Victor Ilugo.to whom
he indites a sonnet about once a month.
The great Frenchman reads them all,
imagining that he understands English.
And perhaps the language of enraptured
adoration is pretty generally compre
hended by the [stmon who is the object
of it. Victor Hugo, on the other hand,
considers Swinburne the first of living
Blnglish lyrists.— London Tr-Uh.
BETTER THAN A SNAKE BTORT4
ll
4 Itoy’a l!nronntr With BiMa la m Yml|-
HIIU llml Weigh Kl|ht rounds Esch.
[Franklin (Ft.) Letter to ihs Now York Hun.J
Twenty years or so ago, Herman Min
nieli owned a brewery along French
Orel It, ill this place, A storage vault or
tunnel belonging to the brewery was
excavated in the side of the hill nearly
two hundred feet in length. There was
a great Hihml in the creek in 18(!5, and
tho water threatened to fill the vault. A
large quantity of beer was stored there
at the time. In attempting to save tha
law from being carried away Brews!
Vlinnieh was drowned, l’hillip Gross
maii now keepwn saloon near the vault,
which lie uses to store cheese, bologna,
and beer iu. Tho vault for some tims
, has been overrun with rats of au enorm
ous size. They frequent the tunnel in
such numbers and aro so bold and ag
gressive that Grossman has long found
it necessary to take someone with him
to fight tho rats away wliile he takes ont
cheese or beer. The cheese is kept cov
ered with tin coses, through which the
rats can not gnaw.
Among Grossman’s children are two
boys—Tidily, thirteen, and Eddie, eight
years old. They aro both extremely
fond of Swiss cheese. A few days ago
they determined to make a raid on -hr
store of their favorite clieeso in she ohl
brewery vault. They knew it would be
necessary to fight an army of rats in
order to secure the prize they covoted,
lmt. that did not deter them. Philly
armed himself with a heavy piece of
hoop-iron, and tho two boys entered ihs
vault, the youngest one carrying the l ie
tern. They had gone but a few feet only
when tho rats began to dispute their
passage. Rats scampered about them
on every side, and it was with difficulty
that Pliilly kept tlieui off of himself ' I
brother by the active wielding of Jiis
piece of iron. Some of the ruts were if
enormous size, and the nrmy kept the
boys entirely surrounded, moving along
toward the further end of the tunnel
with them and koeping up u loud and
fierce outcry ns they marched .Several
times one <>f the ruts, more bold than his
companions, would jump savagely t one
or the other of the boys; but, these in
variably met death or were disabled by
blows from Philly’s iron. The younger
boy wauled to go back titter a rat lind
leaped up and caught him by the sleeve
with liis teeth; but his brother quieted
liis fears, and told him that the rats were
only playing.
By the time the boys reached the end
of tne tunnel, where the cheese was kept,
tlierals had gathered by hundreds around
the children, covering the cheese boxes
and running over the boys in spite of the
efforts of the older ono to keep them off.
Philly took off his coat and wrapped it
around liis little brother to protect him
from tho rats, and then proceeded to un
cover a cheese. The rata piled upon
him and all about him, as though frantio
with the prospect of getting possession
of the cheese themselves. Philly beat
about him right and left, but finding it
impossible to drive tho rats away, so that
he could got o box raised, he told his lit
tle brother to go back and tell his father
to oomo into tho vault as soon as possi
ble. The little fellow hastened out, leav
ing Pliilly alono in tho dark, battling
with the rats, which wore gradually get
ting the bettor of him. lie placed his
back against one side of the tunnel, and
wielded liis weapon continually, killing
or disabling a rat at almost every blow.
When the younger child carried the
news to his father that Pliilly was in the
vault surrounded by the rats, Grossmnn
and two neighbors armed themselves
witholubs and hurried to the rescue of the
boy. ’The army of rats seemed to num
ber thousands when they reached the
scene. Tho men joined in the contest,
but so numerous and persistent were the
rats that they wore more than au horn
conquering them. Dead rats lay pile-1 o.t
every side, and their number was in
greatly reduced that the survivors were
finally driven to their holes. Eight Irm
dre-d and nineteen dead ruts were ouii'n l
from the vault. Ono of them weighed
over eight pounds. The carcasses fllh. 1 a
two-horse box wagon, and were a goo-1
load for a team todraw away. The com
bined weight of tlio rats was over a ton.
Lore Letters.
It is commonly said that the art <-r
letter writing has perished, and t; ..I,
epistolatory correspondence—to use the
stately phraseology of our grandmothers
—which covered sheets upon sheets of
paper closely written over and often per
ploxingly “crossed,” lias been superseded
by threo-cornerod notes and postal cards.
We cannot bring ourselves to regret the
circumstance, for, perhaps, of all forms
of communication letters are the most
tiresome and never could luive been re
sorted to 011 a large scale save by people
xvlio had a portontious amount of time
on their hands. But there is one species
of letter writing which, we believe, still
survives. Love letters are ntill written,
still read and still answered, and still
sometimes returned; and wo suppose
tlioy continue to justify the description
eloquently given of them by tho immortal
Eloisa, as rendered by Pope :
Tsy live, they •[n-iilr, they hmitho wht lore In
epirt n,
Wnrm from Mp mini, and faithful to it* flrre;
The Nlrpln’a witliont her fount impart,
Kxcuno tim Miimli an l |w>ur out aJI the heart;
Speed theuoft Intfroou rna from aoul to aoul,
And waft it fetish from Indus to I ha Pul*.
A r.Aiiou monument lias tieen erected
at Kahok a, Mo., with the following in
scription: “The Spencer Family.—We
are all hero, murdered with an ax, on the
night of August 3, 1H77, at their home.
Their bodies lie beueath this tomb, their
virtues about it.” It marks the spot
where the five members of the Spencer
family were slnin, and its dedication, with
elaborate ceremonies, drew together fifty
thousand persons, so great had been the
excitement over the crime. The deed
was palpably committed by one man,
who killed bis victims, one after another,
as he came upon them; but who he was
has never been ascertained. Bill Young
was banned by a mob, but a jury had ac
quitted him, and there was nothing at
at all proven against him except his bail
character. His lust words were: “I am
as innocent of this thing as the angels,”
hut the leaders of the lynchers replied:
“ You’re a good man to hang, anyhow.”
His wife has now sued the county for
810.000 dun luges.
Hostage Stain its.
The number of different kinds of po*t
ago stamps which have been hitherto is
sued all over the world is estimated, in
round numbers, at 6,000. Among them
are to be found tho effigies of five Em
perors, eight Kings, three Queens, one
Grand Duke, six Princes, and a great
number of Presidents, etc, Some of the
stamps bear coats-of-arms and other em
blems, iis crowns, the papal keys, anil
tiara, anchors, eagles, horsemen, rues
sengers, etc. The collection preserved
in the Museum of the Berlin Postoffice
included, on July 1, 1870, 4,468 sjieci
mens of different postage stamps. Ol
these 2,162 were from
Asia, 251 from Africa, 1,143 from Amer
ica, and 201 from Australia.
What doth it profit a man if h> n
“well-heeled,” yet hath a bunion?