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(!
AUNT m NIECE;
-OR,
The Mistress of
Hazelwood.
Hv GERALD CARLTON.
CH AFTER VI. —Continued.
itreauy a fc sistefi ny .Mis* u»ntiey, ne
wrote Ids letter to Jack, with Mrs. ILir
comt’e case slated therein, and the multi¬
tude of unanswerable questions belonging
to it. Jack’s advice was solicited, and the
letter posted that night.
On tn <■ following Thursday morning the
reply arrived, and was read aloud to the two
ladies concerned.
Jack’s letter answered, as far as possible,
some of Mrs. Ilarcourt’s questions, but he
Increased the difficulty by asking himself
Tor several scraps of information respect¬
ing her wishes.
He inclosed also a prospectus of his com¬
pany, and asked Will not to scruple to
trouble him further on the subject
The letter also contained the following
postscript:
“I start this morning for Edinburgh—on
busincm, of course. 1 shall return on Fri¬
day night, or Satin day morning. Shall be
busy, but if you can run over and have a
chut with a fellow, do. Love for all. Try and
Borne. Yours, Jack
“To ho heard of ut the Windsor Hotel.”
Mrs. Ilarcourt being anxious that the an¬
nuity business should bo settled, and be¬
lieving that an interview with Mr. Graham
would so settle ir, requested Will, at the in¬
stance of Mihb Bentley, to write and ask
his friend to dine with them at Hazelwood
House, on whatever evening most conven¬
ient to him.
Will wrote accordingly, and gave the re¬
quested invitation.
The night of Thursday was fine, clear,
tmd moonlit. The annuity business was al¬
most forgotten. It had not even been men¬
tioned during the dinner.
Miss Bentley Was seated on the sofa in
slightly the drawing-room; unwell; Ada had retired, feeling
Mrs. Ilarcourt, with eyes
closed, was thinking audibly about the an¬
nuity; and Will was reading “Ingoldsby
Legends."
A servant entered with two telegrams,
which had just arrived.
Sho guvo ono to the drawing-master and
llio other to Miss Bentley, anil retired.
Will opened and read Lis, It Mas from
M. Graham, Edinburgh," and ran thus:
“Just arrived. Find I have time to spare.
Accept invitation with thanks. With you
Du Saturd iy evening return samo night. ”
Will walked to the sofa and Miss Bent¬
ley, and placed Jack’s tolegram iu hor
namls. Sho road it, noddod hor head, and
roturued it.
Ho saw that sho was pale and slightly
agitated. Tho telegram which sho had re¬
ceived M'as lying in hor lap.
Will pointed to it,
“Not bad nows, I hope,” he said.
"I am afraid so,” sho replied, with sup¬
pressed agitation, then putting her fingoi
on her lip for an instant to warn him not tc
speak loud and awaken Mrs. Ilarcourt, she
added:
“Read that telegram, Mr. Tryfoil.”
The tolegram was from Sir. Landy Lind¬
sey, and ran as follows:
“Expect wish mo to-morrow (Friday) to din
nor. I to speak to you on a mattor of
Importance."
Will waited for an explanation.
“ 1 am afraid that Sir Landy will bring
bad mom s, ” sho said.
“Why “For do you think that, Miss Bontley?"
tho first time in my life,” she an
s wo red, “I can liml no reason for my
thought. It is extremely weak, I own—ex
homely have contemptible—but Mr. Tryfoil, 1
what feeble-minded persons are al¬
ways thinking they have a prosentiment.”
"Nonsense, Miss Bentley.”
“Sir Landy Lindsey is the last man in
tho Morld to magnify needlessly,” 6he
went on. " Sir Landy distinctly says ‘a
Diat'er of importance,'”
“Which you take to bo-”
“Not a word to Ada, not a M ord to Mrs.
Ilarcourt,” Miss Bentley, interrupted, quite
ralmly. “Which I take to lie the failure of
Lindsey, Evans A Brett. Sir Landy will
toll mo on Friday.”
“ But-”
“How will that touch mo?” she proceeded.
'In this May. If they fail we become pen
ailoss! Not a Mord, Mr. Tryfoil, to Misi
Wentworth!”
charier m
SfH LANDY LINDmEY.
Sir Landy Lindsey and man servant nr
Hvedat Hazelwood House on Friday after¬
noon.
Miss Bentley received him alone^ and,
detecting unruffled a Blight embarrassment in hi*
Usually manner, delicately put
the question which had been troubling hoi
Bo lftUi^h, since. tli$ advent of his telegram
Had he ootuo to Hazelwood to tell het
that tho bank had failed, or was on tin
verge of failing?
ing *ir Landy replied that his visit had noth¬
to do with money or banking in ant
form. He regretted that his telegram should
have alarmed her. He u-ould not say that
his bank had never been more prosperous
than at present, because it was far above
Huetuadou as much on the one side as the
other.
“Mlien I sent that telegrnm, Miss Bent¬
ley," he explained, “I acted as I seldom
act—on telling impulse. Directly I determined or
you this matter of importance,
M'hich, let me add. is of great coucevn to me,
3 was fearful lest I should do what I seldom
possible, do—change my mind. To vender that im¬
I sent the telegram. My rude
haste was unusual, I confess, and it is only
natural that you should have placed an un¬
usual construction on it."
Sir Landy paused.
“May I be allou-ed to posfpoue our inter¬
view till this evening?” he at last asked.
If you desire it," replied Miss Bentley.
"Shall we say the library at Half-past nine?”
“Thank you; that will do nicely,” said
the banker, bowing.
The dinner that evening M as a very tame
affair.
Sir Landy Lindsey’s bearing toward Will
Tryfoil was, as usual, cold and depreciating
—to Ada, mildly paternal—to Mrs. Har
court, lazily respectful—aud to Miss Bent¬
ley. embarrassed.
Will, according to a confession recorded
in an earlier chapter, Mas ahvays at a disad¬
vantage in his society, so he therefore said
very little during dinner.
The past week had, notwithstanding his
shine. separation Now from the banker’s Emily, been one of sun¬
seemed placed between well-looking him and the body
imparting to his surroundings sun,
gloomy and disagreeable; an besides, aspect at
once he
fancied that Miss Bentley was also behav¬
ing a little coldly to him.'
than They had begun dinner an hour latei
usual. At about ten minutes pas:
nine the ladies retired.
Will had but one thought now—his de¬
sire to relieve his mind regarding Miss
Bentley’s coldness.
As she was passing from the dining-room
he whispered:
“Due word, Miss Bentley, please. Have
I offended you in any way ?”
1 or the first time since he had known
her an angry flush mantled her face. It
came and vanished in an instant
"No-no!” she replied, smilingly and
heartily “What made you fancy that, Mr.
I rviou? ’
“Upon my word I cannot tell you,” he
replied.
c-he laughed, shook her head, and held
out her baud,
I forgive you," she returned, Mith a
bright smile,
in rorprise .^ 9 offen<Jed J’ 011 '-” be rejoined
THE MONROE ADVERTISER: FORSYTH, GA., TUESDAY, JUNE 12, 1888.—EIGHT PAGES
-.No-no! T simply forglre you for think
ing you Lad.
■ At (hat moment Ada joined her, and they
passed from the room arm-in-arm.
WHl closed the door after them and re
banker.
“ion are very comfortable here, Mr. Try
foil, I bell-ye.' sai l his patron, op- uing
Wie conversation.
l am extremely happy, Sir Tandy, think
“I have bf on speaking of yon to Mis-;
Den’l y. I am plea ed to find she is to.- r
ably w 11 satisfied with yon.”
The banker's tone as usual distressed the
yonng man.
He moved uneasily in his chair.
Sir Landy, after a somewhat long paus*,
again spoke: "
“You are still engaged to bo married to
your young friend the clerk —I mean the
housekeeper?” No.
said Mill, reddening with sup
pressed anger.
, to Miss ,'i* 0 ' ^ Graham. am engiged ” to the e’erk’s sister—
Exactly, ’ pursued the banker, languid
ly; then w.th u little more energs: “I leave
here to-morrow afternoon, aud I shall walk
to the B'.ntion if the weather is fine. It s
possible that by the time I start I may have
settled my mind on a curtail question in
which you are prominently concerned. In
that case, Mr. Tryfoil, will you oecomp ny
me ns far as the railway station?”
“Thank “Certainly, Sir Landy," replied Will.
easily you," and the banker looked un
at his watch.
"I must go now," he added, rising from
his chair; “ it is fully half-past nine. ”
Scarcely had he spoken when the dooi
half-opened and Miss Bentley appeared.
smUn' L mi"'Tt °, U1 i 1 )ti s ie apol ? gi ?.^’
1 < ^
l > lease°indulgo “A thousand mv weakness.”
in confusion. pardons,” s dd the banker ’
some
dining-room Slightly bowing to Tryfoil, tie left the
and followed Miss Bentley
into the library. *
\N hat passed during that long interview
may be stated briefly:
I he banker declared his love for Miss
e ntley, to her great amazement, and
ho h>s wife; but the best an
six months to SisTder. andf/aUhe' mfol
that time she believed she felt anvaffectior
for him, then it might bo as he wished.
_
CHAPTER v ttt
jack GRAHAM’S antics.
-Dthough Sir Landy ’he Lindsey had passec
a very restless night, was in every va;
the more breakfast-table companionable the next morning a;
than he had previously
been. "
lie had weighed the probabilities of Miss
Bentley s changing her mind when he came
to repeat the question of last evening, anc
airivec SttJ£S5*£r°XSSTOSE a no result, principally because he
He implicitly believed that she had been
acting a part, and he argued that she would
not do such a thirg unnecessarily.
It was. therefore, apparent to iiim that
the real reason of her refusal of his offei
must be discovered before he could at ah
accurately compute his chances “six months
”
His love for her was an infinitely _ more
™!° U L a a *l r YT he “° 8(
wal i
been his pride to subdue were "like‘a ,lis
from ease imperfectly cured, only disappearing
one spot to find its way to another and
vital '
more one.
He had told her that she had wrought a
revolution in his nature, and he had told
her the simple truth.
Sir Landy took breakfast calmly, made
one or two well-bred jokes, and otherwise
at;' 0d j: lm ^° U Wllh ^ utmost cordiality.
Visual* 1 ° 01 ua Uled eveE
than
To the banker she was particularly ami
able, and she seemed entirely to have for
gotten the interview in the library.
Altogether the breakfast Mats so enjoy
able that they lingered over it a quarter of
an hour longer than usual; and Sir Landy
to decided, at Miss Bentley's pressing reques%
staxto lunch and journey to Edinbuigli
Mr. Tryfoil l' - .! 11 ,' has kindly , . ,, offered , to , accom
P TiirU 0 . lh 0 e cFXa.fy*.‘^St, yet
was he curious to know what the banker
had to say to him.
minutes Recalling they his manner left during the tn'enty
had been alone after diu
aer, he was inclined to believe that tko in
terview in the library—of the circumstances
of which he was quite ignorant, except that
he knew that the subject under discussion
was not the failure of the bank— was but a
sort of prelude to the coming interview on
the road to the railway station.
At about fivo o’clock in the afternoon Sir
Landy, liis man servant, and Will Tryfoil
left Hazelwood House for Perthard.
“In six months!” the banker M’hispered
to his fair hostess at parting.
Miss Bentley laughed quietly.
“But you M r iil pay us auother visit sooner
than that, will you not?” she said, with a
most “Oh, engaging smile.
yes!”
“An entirely unvomantic visit, mind!”
“Yes; I promise you that.”
“Thank you,” she replied, adding, in a
whisper, “I am ahvays glad to see you, Sir
Landy, but I strongly object to Master
Landy. You were Master Landy last night,
you know.
It was a very cool afternoon, and the
banker and Will Tryfoil u’alked side by side,
while the servant kept at a respectful dis¬
tance in the rear.
Sir Landy opened the conversation on
this occasion M'ith less of that cool, patron¬
izing tone which so distressed his com¬
panion in their former interviews.
“I have often told you, I think,” said Sii
Landy, “that I desire your welfare. I have
told you also that marriage Mould beneiif
you. You have turned your neM- leaf, and
have given me by the act much satisfac¬
tion, but you are a young man, and the
merest puff of wind may blow it aside and
bring the old one uppermost once more.”
“I think not, sir.”
“I think with you; yet it would be well k
render it more unlikely. ”
Sir Landy seldom indulged in metaphor,
aud Will was so surprised at his having
done so now that he failed to catch the real
import of his words.
“Tell me, please,” continued the banker,
‘what one naturally does when one wishes
to prevent any document from being blown
iway aud lost.”
Will laughingly replied: paper-weight
“One generally puts a upon
it"
“Exactly —and I strongly advise that you
put a paper-weight upon your new leaf as
3oon as possible. The paper-weight that I
idvise. ” continued Sir Landy, “is Miss
Graham. ”
incides “I am delighted, sir, that your advice co¬
.•eplied so Tryfoil, agreeably with my iuclina ions,”
‘and I shall follow with brightening eyes,
it as soon as I can.”
“There lies the important point, ” said the
ranker. “As soon as you can. You will
understand, I am sure, my motive for
questioning you,” he added. “When do
roil “If propose all marrying this young lady?”
goes well, Sir Landy, in a year
irom now. ”
“A year is a long rime. You know, of
sours-?, that you cannot take your w.fe
vith.you “Yes, to Hazelwood?"
I know that. These are my views,
Sir Landy: Remain at Hazelwood for one
rear; throw up the engagement; marry
diss Graham, and woik hard for a good
.ppointment, and then when I have got it,
rork harder still. ”
A brief silence followed Will’s speech.
Sir Landy was disappointed, but he dis¬
guised the fact nevertheless.
"Your intention is very precarious,” he
mid at last. “My adv.ee is, marry at
mee.”
“Impossible!” "
Sir, ” said the banker, “I am, as I have
mid, much pleased m ith you. I am anxious
that you should marry quickly; that you
should obtain a better engagement, m
lactj that; yoq jjow hayc; that you should
begin life at an advanced point, and in
sarnest. I vrill for that purpose advance
pou any reasonab’e stun you may name—
repayable [f on whatever terms best suit you
yon prefer, it sLall be a lean, and not a
“-May heaven reward von for vour good
ness!” exc’aimed Will, fervently,
"You accept my offer, then?”
“No; I vrill place myself under no fre h
obligations, Sir Lundy. You have been t
lood friend to the boy—the man will work
.or himself. I deeply thank you for your
madness; and blame mv pride, or whatever
*v», as you will, I must still refuse vour
a o! le offer.”
He looked straight ahead of him as he
raid this, else, even in that dim, wintry
! afternoon light, he would have seen and
j been surprised at the expression which
iia words brought to his companion’s un
wrinkled lace. Rather let us sav two ex
pressions—the first of the heartiest gratifi
cation; the second of the bitterest disap
pointment.
fTO BE COXTTNTJED. ]
PERILS OF SETTLERS.
_
. with _ the _
Incident of the War
Seminole Indians in Florida,
[Trom the Titusville Star.]
there During the Seminole Indian war Indians of 1837
were times when the
would leave off hostilities in order to
make their crops aud to prepare anew
for the warpath. All the settlers had
to live iu forts, and in planting crops
and cultivating them some would work
while others stood guard. During the
cessations of hostilities some would re
tu ™ \° their homes only to be driven
. hack to the fort, and sometimes killed
aQ d scalped.
Fleming Johns and his wife returned
to their home at what is now Baldwin,
as the Indians had not been seen for
some time, Early in the and morning look
Johns got up, opened the door
ed around. He saw no signs of Indians
and went out to cut some firewood.
While cutting the Indians fired at and
"T?*? H ® ^ th ° h ° USQ
and sla ^ the d ? or - Hl s ™ s c ; n a
rack Ho reaclu d f . li . t but fel1 , from
loss “ of blood, knocking ’ ? r off > the hammer.
Johns had no other weapon and was
at the mercy of the Indians, wlio ad
vauced to tho tloor and began, with the
flxe to bnock it down. Johns offered
them his home and all he had if they
would spare liis life. The Indians only
laughed and cursed him. They broke
the door down and shot him, and began
to take what they wanted, ripping open
the feather bed, pillows and bolsters,
and packing fh‘“‘f°% up all they wanted.
to be killed and scalped. She TSV”! told mo
they packed all they wanted before they
molested her. An old Indian motioned
to her to leave, but she Mas afraid to
move, He took her by the hand and
led her toward the door. She looked
back and an Indian was raising bis gun
to shoot. She threw her arm over her
eyes and he shot, the ball striking her
arm and going through her neck. She
fell forward stunned, with her arm un
der her bead - Before they got through
scalping . her she to her but
came senses,
feigned being dead. The Indians then
set fire to the house and left quietly. and
After they had gone a short time
the house was well on fire, she got up
and tried to pull her dead husband from
the house, and pulled him as far as the
door, when she fainted. In falling a
p a j| Q f -water u r as upset on her, which
brought her back to consciousness. She
took a to ' v el A f °^ e d it, and covered her
Iiead , alul left , . taking - the road. Want
ing water and feeling faint,she went towel to a
pond of Mater, where she M“et the
and put it on her head,
She saw horsemen coming and recog
nized her father-in-law. He also discov
ered her. The men leveled their guns
to shoot her, and she was pon-erless to
^ Her father-in-law cried out to
«* “ff-Uo footj p it «. Jan,-,
^h^ told him what had happened, borne
°t them carried her to the station aud
some of them went to the house, but
too late to get out the remains of her
husband,
After she M'as well an Englishman
persuaded her to go to Washington to
get Her a pension, aud she M’as exhibited. the
likeness Mas taken and hung in
Capitol. The Englishman ran off with
all the money. She returned to Savan¬
nah, M'liere she had a sister, and after
ward she married a man named Mathas,
who M'as stabbed years afterward by a
crazy man and died in Savannah. Mrs.
Matlias then returned to Florida, where
she had one brother and txvo sisters liv¬
ing, one of whom is my wife.
The Indians frequently came to my
house, and she said she recognized one
of them, the chief, Tomanam, as being
the one m Iio led her to the door. She
never M’ould have anything to say to
them, and said it made her sick to look
at them. The Indians would talk and
point to her as though they recognized
her.
Mrs. Jane Mathas died in 1874, and
her remains lie in the cemetery of Fort
Ogden. “Peace to her ashes.’ 1 '
a
The Londou Post-Office,
It T , is stated that too business of tad
P os ' ol b c 2 ls °I such magnitude
Hum expenses alone, it S ¥W"I 1 lat s no. ling.
A few years ago a drummer for a Chi
cagodry-goods house was boasting m the
presence of one of Ins char^temticaUy
'
transacted. The Bostonian listened
with respectful attention to the tremend
ous figures which the other man pro
duced for his benefit, showing the colos
sal receipts and expenses of the Chicago
house. When he got through the
Western drummer complacently business re
marked: “Ah—how much of a
do yonpeonle do?” “I’m sure I don’t
know," quietiv repeated the drummer
from down East. “But I can state one
ract which may give you some light on
that point. The first of last January
the head of the firm directed the book
keepers and the shipping clerks to re
frain from dotting i’s or crossing t’s until
further notice. The result was dollars a saving in
for the year of over a million
our ink bills. I believe the precise
amount M as a million and forty-nine
dollars and five cents.”
Saw the Joke.
Mrs. Winks (looking up from paper)
— “Ha, ha, ha! That’s too funny. The
idea! Ha. ha. ha! Oh, derr, Eli hurt
mvself laughing.”
Mr. Winks—“Well, I’ve always be
lieved that a woman never could see a
joke, but vou seem to have got one
through your head this time.”
•‘Humph: I’d like to see a joke I
couldn't see through.”*
“Ke&d that one.”
“Let me see. Where is it? Oh. here
it is- ‘Bridget,’ said the lady of the
honse severelv’—Ha. ha. ha! Isn't it
funny? Severely! The idea of the lady
of the house daring to »peak to the
cook -severely.’ He, he, he.”
“But what’s the rest?”
“1 didn't get any further .”—Omaha
World,
BUDGET OF EL
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
Conld Not Sing the Old Songs—Great
Thrift—He Thought Not.— His
Enjoyment Interfered
With, Etc., Etc.
‘I cannot sing the old songs,”
Though well 1 know the tune,
And I can carol like the bird
That sings in leafy June.
Yet though I'm full of music
As choirs of singing birds,
“I cannot sing the old songs"—
I do not know the words.
I start on “Hail Columbia."
And get to heaven-born band,’’
And there I strike an up-grade
With neither steam nor sand.
“Star spangled banner" throws me t'
Right in right, my wildest screaming,
I start all but dumblv come
To voiceless wreck at “streaming.*
So when I sing the old songs,
Don't murmur or complain, . f
If 'Ti, de ail da. turn de dum,”
Should fill the sweetest strain,
I love tiddv urn dum di do. , /
And the trallala eep da dirds, f
But “1 cannot sing the old songs”— >
I do not know the words.
— Burdette.
Great Thrift. U
Little Girl—“Mrs. Brown, ma wants
to know if she could borrow a dozen
eggs. She wants to put ’em under a
hen.”
Neighbor—“So you’ve got a hen set¬
ting, have you? I didn’t know you kept
hens.”
Little Girl—“No’m, we don’t, but
Sirs. Smith’s goin’ ter lend us a hen
that wants ter set, an’ ma thought if
you’d lend us some eggs we’ve got the
nest ourselfs. ”—New York Sun.
V
He Thought Not.
Miss Knight^ (to new acquaintance
whose name she did not catch)—“Ety
mology of namee is my favorite study,
My theory is that all names indicate what
the person’s ancestors w’ere; for instance,
my family ancestors blacksmiths, were knights, and the {Smith
were so forth.
I think it's the best way to tell what a
person is, don’t you, fir?”
Well no, he didn’t, ^because his name
M as Hogg.— Judge.
His Enjoyment Interfered With.
“That sermon was the finest effort I
ever heard,” saida man on Ins wray home
from church. “I wouldn't have missed
it for §20.”
his .“I’m glad you enjoyed, itiJohn,” said
wife.
“\es, I enjoyed it; but there was one
thing that annoyed me.”
“What M'as that, John?”
“I had no change in my pocket less
than half a dollar for the contribution
box .”—New York Sun.
A Nice Legal Question.
Bobby had wickedly eaten part of the
preserves on the shelf, and so his mother
shut him in the closet.
On had letting him out she discovered that
he eaten the rest of the preserves.
Mightily displeased,she asked him why
he had done so.
“Because, ma,” Bobby replied, “I
heard pa tell one of his clients that a per¬
son couldn’t be punished tn'ice for the
same offense. '"--Epoch.
The Reason.
Wife—“John, dear, I‘m afraid you do
not love me as you used to do.”
Husband—“Now what put that into
your head?”
W.—“Well,you don’t tell me you love
me. You don’t say as you used to say:
‘Mary, I would go to the world’s end for
you.’ No, John, you never say that
now.”
II.— “Do you know the reason, dear?”
W. (sobbing)—“Yes, well; I know the
reason you have ceased to love
me.”;
H.'— Stuff and nonsense. I love you
more than ever and I would tell you so
occasionally, but I never get the chance.
You are ahvays talking and I can’t get
a word in edgeways .”—Boston Courier.
Just, the Wife lie Wanted.
She—“I confess, William, that your
proposal gives me pleasure. It would be
foolish to pretend that it doe3 not, yet—
He—“Yet, what? What possible ob¬
jection can you have to becoming my
wife? Y'ou know that I love you, that !
am able to provide for you—”
“Yes, but I fear I M'ould be but a
lorry housewife.”
“Why so?”
“Because I have never been to a cook
ing school.”
“All the better, dearest; all the bet
ter. ”
“jAll the better?”
“Yes. You will stay at home and at
tend to the cooking instead of wranting
to go out and lecture on the culinary art.
You are just the kind of a wife I want.”
— Boston Courier.
A Hopeless State of Affairs.
“Miss Clara,” he said tremulously,
“d ara> dear Clara, if I had loved you
less, I could have told you that I loved
The mad passiona,e de -
Then he stopped.
Upon P the g f r p s f ace there was a wist
ful new -bonnet expression, I ’ that im- lra
" d h5m
“Excuse my rudeness, Mr. Sampson,”
said ; ^^y coming back to earth,
far *™ l° fl V** y \ou “« ment were , saying—” my . thoughts were
’
1 v,as e ^xplamed Mr. , amp
son, reac^lung . f <or , his , hat^ ‘"that 1 1 is ge-1
in g^ ; “e. -Dss Hemaicks, and I Will bid
you o ooa ~ ni gkt. Epoch.
r . °n . , t Please T" oth.
' ui
^ . °L comfort
S0UIce to one person of
ten causes extreme annoyanceTo another,
»* hen people of opposite feelings come
together a good deal oi patience and
courtesy is necessary m order to g.t
long pleasantly.
Hiding on a railroad train, a gentle
man , Sitting next an open window, was
tapped on the shoulder sharply by a wo
man behind him, who said: “I wish
you d shut that window right off, mister;
I m freezing. ’
“Freezing! ’ exclaimed another wo
man, who occupied the same seat with
the gentleman, “you ain’t doing any
thing of the sort. Im just suffocating
wi.h the heat. ’
I m freezm , I tell you!”
And I tell you I’m suffocating:”
111 tel1 what to do,” said an
elderly man in the seat in front, turning
around impatiently: “shut the window,
by all means, until this one is suffocated,
and then open it until the other freezes
to death. —Youth's Companion.
Warned.
“Who . that lantern jawed old fellow
is
standing over there eating pie?” asked a
facetious young man from the East of the
belle of th e evening at a Missouri ball.
“That’s my brother Ben,” was the iev
said, re Pjyi he “an* II lick—” when I tell ’im what you’ve
“Oh, you misunderstand me. Imeant
that long, lank dandy w ith the clay pipe
thereby the window.”
“That’s my beau, young man, and
he’ll dandy you in 'bout a minuit and
two seekinds! Oh, he'll—”
“You surely misunderstand me. 1
meant that grinning old gawk standing
by that fat, ugly old woman in the greer
dress.”
“Them’s my paw and maw, mister,and
if you want to git out of this country
alive, you’d better start fer tall timber
right off. I'll give you fifteen minutes
start, an’ then I’ll turn Bill an’ my beau
an’ paw an’ maw loose, an’ they won’t
leave a grease spot where you stood lad
if they kitch up with you. Now you
clear out fast!”— Til-Bits.
Novel Method of Warfare.
A certain fort iu the far West, so the
story goes. Mais in command of a major ol
artillery who M'as constantly lamenting
that his favorite arm cou’.d not be more
frequently used against the Indians.
Finally one day he took one of the small
howitzers, which defended the fort, and
had it securely strapped to the back of
an army mule with the muzzle project¬
ing over the animal’s tail. With this
novel gun carriage he proceeded in high
feather with the captain and a sergeant to
a bluff on the bank of the Missouri, neat
whi h was encamped a band of friendly
Indians. The gun was duly loaded and
primed, the fuse inserted, and the mule
backed to the edge of the bluff. The
major remarked something about the
moral effect the exhibition was likely to
produce upon the Indian allies, and
stepped gayly forward and applied the
match.
The curiosity of the mule was aroused,
lie jerked his head around to see what
was fizzing away there on his neck, and
the next second his feet were all bunched
together and making forty revolutions threatening a
minute, while the gun was
everything under the canopy within s
radius of ten miles with instant destruc¬
tion. The captain shinned up the only
available tree. The sergeant threw him
self flat on the ground and tried to dig a
hole with his bayonet to crawl into, while
the fat major rolled over aud over in
agony, alternately invoking the protec¬
tion of Providence and railing at the
mule. Finally the explosion came, the
ball The going through the and roof of wild the fort. leap
recoil of the gun the
of the terrified mule carried both over
the bluff to a safe anchorage at the bot¬
tom of the river. The discomfited partv
returned sadly to the fort.
Shortly after the chief of the Indians
appeared and announced briefly: “Injun
go home.”
Questioned as to Mhy he thus ex
plained: “Injun ver’brave, help white
man. Injun use gun, use bow-atrow,
use knife; but when white man fire oil
whole jackass Injun no understand, no
that think right. Injun World. no help urn fight
M'ay. — Toronto
American Explorers
Explorers from America are in every'
land and on every sea, says Professoi
G. G. Gardner. Already she has con¬
tributed her quota of martyrs in the
frozen North, and has led the way
to the torrid regions of Africa.
The people of Europe, through Colum¬
bus, opened up a new world foi
us; and we, through Stanley, have dis¬
covered a new world in the old for
them.
Much has been done on laud, little on
the other three-quarters of the earth’s
surface. But here America has laid tin
foundations of a new science—the geog¬
raphy of the sea.
Our explorers have mapped out the
surface of the ocean and discovered tli<
great movements of the Maters. They
have traced the southward flow of tin
Arctic waters to temper the climate ol
the torrid zone. They have lolloM cd tin
northward set of the heated waters of tht
equator and have shown how they form
those wonderful rivers of M’arm watei
that flow, without uralls, through the
colder waters of the sea till they strike
the western shores of Europe and
America, and how they render habitable
the almost Arctic countries of Great
Britain and Alaska. They have even
followed these xvarm currents farther and
shown how they penetrate the Arctic
Ocean to lessen the rigors of the Arctic
cold. Bravely but vainly have they
sought for that ignis fatuus of explorers
—the open polar sea—produced by the
action of the warm waters from the
south.
American explorers have sounded the
depths of the ocean, and discovered
mountains and valleys beneath the M-aves.
They have found the great plateaus on
which the cables rest that brings us into
instantaneous communication with the
rest of the world. They have shown the
probable existence of a vast submarine
rauge whole of mountains, the extending nearly
the length of Pacific Ocean—
mountains so high that their summits
rise above the surface to form islands
and archipelagoes in the Pacific. And all
this vast region of the earth, which, a
few years ago, was considered uuinhabit
able on account of the great pressure,
they have discovered to be teeming with
life. From the depths of the ocean they
have brought living things, whose lives
^ere spent under conditions of such
pressure that the elastic force of theii
cTua
creatures whose self-luminous spots sup
plied them with the light denied there
m the deep ; abyss ' from which the]
fui spraug _ ab sses 0 deep coSld that the power- P
rays of the sun only feehl,
penetrate to illuminate or warm,
A Handsome Meerschaum Pipe,
haum Perhaps the finest specimen of a meer
sc ned pipe in the United States ii
OW by James Addington, of Eas»
Aurora, this county. It was made as a
masterpiece from the factory of Franz
Hiess, Yiennahess, Germany, and was
exhibited in Germany, England aud
prance, and afterward taken to Sidney,
Australia, by the manufa turer’s agent,
Jt was there sold to a large tobacco
dealer, who valued it at *700, and from
whom Mr. Addington bought it. Tht
pipe is thirteen inches in length from the
bowl to the tip ol the mouthpiece. The
bowl is one and one-half inches h gh and
represents an old stump with the bark
partially fallen off, and from the back of
M'hich has sprouted a young scrub, the
leaves and branches of which are perfect
On the front of the stump is a lizard • at
the base of the stump are the most deli
ca te leaves and ferns. On the stem,
M'hich is about three quarters of an inch
in diameter and eight inches long i a
carved a bed of ferns and grass, in which
horses. a re standing horses three perfectly formed
The are so exquisitely
carved that each muscle is visible. The
bowl and stem are carved by hand from
one pice of meerscU im. Attached to
the stem is an amber mouth-piece three
long, on which is carved a horse’s
For this mouth-piece a’one Mr
has been offered seventy dol
It is very seldom that such an ele
piece of hand-carving as this pipe
s to be seen. It took the workman three
to complete the task, he having
seven pieces of meerschaum before
a piece out of which the pipe
be cut.— Buffalo Courier. '
CONDEMNED MONEY.
HANDLING TORN’ CURRENCY IN
A SUB TREASURY.
Destroy ing Spoiled Bills with a Can¬
cellation Punch—The Summary
Fate of Detected Counterfeits
—Skilful Money Counters.
The United States is not only very
rich, but it is exceedingly particular
about the condition and appearance of
its paper money, and w henever one of its
bills comes back into the hands of its
agents in a mutilated condition it is
seized upon at once, and a brand new
bill is substituted in its place. Tills
method on the Government s part is tli
cause of an interesting state of affairs at
the Sub-Treasury in Wall street, New
York, where more ca<h is stored, and
and where the daily receipts aud dis¬
bursements are larger thau in any other
oue building in the world.
A glance at the desks iu the receiving
department will iu tidy find them piled Some with
bills, done up packages.
of them are new, crisp bills; others show
signs of circulation, while others still
are in every possible state of dilapida¬
tion, the effect of wear and tear of mer¬
cantile life. Mutilated bills are those
that have been worn and torn and have
become dirty anti greasy in passing
through ragged many hands, where the edges
are as and frayed as a wind
whipped they flag; or torn and patched til!
look like a crazy quilt. Mutilated
cu rency reaches the Sub-treasury in the
form of deposits, mixed with new notes,
and occasionally even with counterfeits.
As the deposits are counted the clerk
assorts the bills. that are gootl
and tit for circul tiou are placed by
themselves and the mutilated pieces are
culled out and condemned. The great
majority of the mutilated money con¬
sists of the smaller denominations of
bills, though many tens and twen¬
ties find themselves numbered among
the disreputable mass, The him
dred, five hundred, and even the
thousand-dollar notes are not infrequent¬
ly found among their less aristocratic
associate;, though they seldom present
the ragged and filthy appearance of some
of the lesser denominations. It is esti¬
mated that nearly itU,000,000 per month,
or 000,000 per year, of mutilated
c and irrency is passes through the sub treasury
destruction. sent on New to Washington bills for final
are substituted
for the old ones so writhdrawn from
circulation, so there is no loss to any
The most of this unsavory money
comes directly, or through the banks’
from the retail sections of the city, par¬
ticularly from the neighborhood of Ful¬
ton and Washington markets. All this
spoiled currency passes through the
hands of expert money clerks, who count
and assort the bibs at the rate of a hun¬
dred per minute The good clean bills
are sent over to the paying teller for dis¬
bursement; the condemned bills are put
in packages of 100 bills, tied stoutly
and then subjected to a punching pro¬
cess for cancellation. A machine similar
smaller to a boiler-plate punch, only much
and worked by hand, instead of
by steam, stands iu the rear of the re¬
ceiving bills department. The package of
is p’aeed under this punch which
cuts out a hole a quarter of an inch in
diameter at one stroke through the 10C
bills as smooth and clean as abutter tes¬
ter penetrates a firkin of butter. The
punching, the or cancellation, is through
several signatures on the bills.
The rule at the Sub Treasury is that
any United States or Nation il Bank bill
will be redeemed on presentation, no
matter how badly mutilated, provided
not more than one-tenth of the bill is
m'ssing. Beyond that proportion the
bill can be sent to the Treasury Depart¬
deem ment at Washington, where it is re¬
d iu proportion to the amount re¬
maining down to fifty per cent, of the
face of the note. If the loss is over half
of the note it will not be redeemed, un¬
less the owner can prove that tliemissing
part has been totally destroyed, in which
ca=e the full value of the original bill
nsay be recovered.
The clerks in the receiving depart
inent, beside culling out the mutilated
bills that come into the Treasury, are on
the constant look out for counterfeits.
Moreover, if the clerk by any possibility
allows a counterfeit to pass him and be
received, he i; held personally; responsi¬
ble and is obliged to make good the con¬
sequent loss out of h!s own pocket, for
the Government has no profit and loss ac¬
count. Its cash must balance every
night in good and laufful money, But
so quick are the several clerks in de¬
tecting spurious paper, that, though they
minute, are counting bills at the rate of 100 a
the momentary glance at the
bill as it parses under their eye is suffi¬
cient. for them to select the good from
the bad. On an average, between 200
and 800 counterfeit bills a month ar*
brought into the Sub-Treasury. Most
frequently they come as part of deposits,
and from the banks, while very often
men doubtful come along and make inquiry about
bills. The invariable rule, on
discovering a bill to be counterfeit, is to
stamp it witli a steel die that cuts the
M r ord “counteifeit’ in large capital let¬
ters out of the bill. The word is stamped
two or three times across the face, which
less so thoroughly for multilate; it that it is use¬
ever after. No matter who pre¬
sents the bill or to whom it belongs, the
insignia of its fraudulent character is
cut into it and its character so thorough¬
ly exposed that it can never again lie
circulated. After the bill has been
stamped, it is returned to itsoMmer, and
frequently there ensues an exhibition of
anger and rage that is comical as well as
pitiful, as the owner discovers for a fact
that his bill is worthless. But what
generally hurts him most is, that it has
been so cut and destroyed that he is un¬
able to pass it on any one else. — Com
mcrcial Advertiser.
The Old Hoosier Sehoolhouse.
These primitive . ... school , , , houses of
rude affairs, were,
course > very built of round
lo & s > and with as little expenditure of
time and money as the law would allow,
H was required that they should be eight
feet high from floor to joists, and that
they should be provided with such fur
nb ure as was absolutely necessary for
use in the schools. The floors were of
roughly heMin puncheons: a great fire
place and chimney, built of sticks and
clay, often extended entirely across oue
e nd of thc roomr the seats were long
slabs , Wlth le G s dnven into tb em; there
were no desks, but a narrow shelf against
one of the wnibs afforded the larger pupils
an opportunity to write: and blackboards
were inventions not yet introduced into
the Western country. Close to the place
w here the master sat, there /were usually
tM'o long pegs driven into the Mall for
the purpose of supporting a choice as
sortment of hickory switches; for the
rod was then regarded as the most ef
fer - tive and convenient means of securing
obedience. These were the days of the
“Ho° si er Schoolmaster,” happily known
tiomorein either Indiana or her sister
States.— S ribnefs Magazine.
WORDS OF W ISDOM.
Ben-are of the man of two faces.
Take a cheerful view of everything.
Never rejoice but when thou hast done
well.
Never be in a hurry, but always be in
haste.
Simplicity and luxury arc equally en¬
joyable.
Never be contented with a bubble that
M ill burst.
Laziness travels so slon - that Poverty
soon overtakes him.
Books are the ever burning lamps ol
accumulated wisdom.
There is nothing so sad as happiness in
the sight of the unhappy.
The shortest way to do many things is
to do only one thing at once.
Of all thieves, fools are the worst; they
rob you of time and patience.
Conscience is at most times a very
faithful and prudent admonitor.
Affect not little shift and subterfuges
to avoid the force of un argument.
Industry has annexed thereto the
fairest fruits and the richest rewards.
Politeness is an easy virtue, costs
little, and has great purchasing power.
Fa’sehood is often rocked by Truth;
but she soon outgroM S her cradle and dis¬
cards her nurse.
It is with antiquity as M’ith ancestry;
nations are proud of the one, and indi¬
viduals of the other.
Silence never sIioms Itself to so great
an advantage as when it is the reply to
calumny and defamation.
Speaking that too much is the sign of van¬
ity: for ho is lavish in words is apt
to l,e a niggard in deeds.
All our actions take their hues from
the complexion of tho heart, as land¬
scapes the r variety from light.
Let it be hoi ne in mind that the cords
of love, which bind hearts so closely to¬
gether that neither life nor death nor
time nor eternity can sever them, are
woven of threads no bigger than a
spider’s web.
Alan is a reed, and the weakest reed
in nature; but then he is a thinking
reed. Should tho universe crush him,
man would still be more noble than that
by which he fell, because he would
know his fate, while the universe would
ba insensible of its victory.
Dancing the Carmagnole.
The “Carmagnole” is the song sung
by the old women, thc tricoteuscs, as
they danced around the scaffold in 1 71)“,
writes the Paris correspondent of tho
Phi adclpliia Thgraph. It is a song of
tierce and fearful import. Its old words
were revolutionary, but new verses have
been written that have ah economic rather
than a political bearing. They breathe
Mar to the middleman, the “sweater,”
to those Mho build fortunes with the
labor of oil ers, and do not themselves
produce anything. To dance tlie “Car
magoolc” effectively it is generally cus¬
tomary to select some youth with a loud,
sinister, contralto voice. fflie youth
takes his stand on the stage or high plat¬
form. AwomanMitJi regular features,
tall, commanding figure, is then called
upon to take the lead in the dance. It
is preferable that she should have a tight
fitting, severe, plain black dress, devoid
of any sort of ornaments. If she has
abundant fair tresses, these are allowed
to fall down tlie back. T his simplicity
may be taken as homage paid to the
naturalism that per adcs modern schoo's
of thought. Thc black is emblematic ol
mourning for t he brothers who still lan¬
guish in prison or have fallen behind tlie
barricades. But perhaps the redscarfof
tho Commune is fastened acros the
breast, and, in any ease, a Phrygian cap,
after the model Morn in 17!>", with its
wild labels dangling from either side,
is carefully poised on the head, and this
completes a very effective and classical
costume.
A woman thus dressed forms the een
ter of the dance. t*he stands absoluely
alone and does not deign to take a P; irl
nor. Her partner is tho huge red flag,
which, M’ith strong arm and determined
gesture, she holds aloft. The boy with
the sinister voice then commences to sing
the first verse of the “Carmagnole.’
There may be several thousand person*
present, and yet the silence is such, tht
attention so intense, I hat every breath is
draMn with precaution, for fear of mak¬
ing a noise. But when the verse has
been sung and the chorus has been
reached it is taken up by the people at
first with a slow, low’ murmur. The cen¬
tral figure commences to turn, and a
circle of four men and women, holding
hands, go around her in the contrary dri
rection. Then there is another larger
and yet another slill larger circle, till the
largest of all touches the wall on either
side of the hall. These circles within
circles all go round in reverse direction:
the first to the left, the second to the
right, and so on; M'hile the M'oman in
black with her red flag standing in tho
center, living pivot. turns sloovly round and forms a
As the crowd turns, it
sings louder and louder, till at last, in
frenzied excitement, M'hatwith stamping
and shouting, they make the walls
shake, the M’indows vib ate, and the very
stones themselves tremble on their foun¬
dations and seem to participate in the
revolutionary dance. It is at once an
impressive and a threatening sight. It
is at such moments tlint one may realize
the excitability of the French people:
and, on the whole, if I were a Jay Gould
or a Rothschild I should prefer not to bo
recognized while the “Carmagnole” was
sung.
An Ancient Law Cited.
A curious legal case has appeared in
Providence, where one Nancy K. Bishop
sues to recover various sewer assessments
collected on her real estate, and for her
plea invoked an old law of England, en¬
acted in the time of Henry" VIII (in
1531). This beats anything known to
Connecticut practice. Here was the
case:
The plaintiff claimed at the trial that
the right of appeal to a jury, in all cases
of sewer assessments, M-as a part of the
common law of England, recognized by
the statute of 23, Henry VIII. (in 1531),
citing subsequent English statutes and
cases, and also simimilar statutes in
Massachusetts; the and, hence, was a part of
common law of this State, and such
right being secured inviolate in the State
constitution cannot be taken away by the
Btatute. The court, while rendering
judgment at a former term for part of
the claim on other grounds,held that the
statute 23. Henry VIII., relied upon, is
not one of the statutes which were de¬
clared to be in force by the general as¬
sembly by the act of 1740. The plaintiff
now petitions for a new trial upon the
ground that in 1776 the general assembly
passed another statute to the effect that
in all cases where there is no laM T of the
colony to the contrary, the law of Eng¬
land should prevail, M’hich statute rein¬
stated the statute of 27, Henry VIII.,
and made if a part of the law of Rhode
Island, an], therefon. ^ the assessment in
question illerra’ void.— Hartford
Times,