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6
SPRING SONG,
fling me a song of the early spring,
Of the yellow light where the clear air
cools,
Of th* lithe willows bourgeoning
In the amber pools.
Bin:? me a song of the spangled dells,
W liero bepatFas tremble In starry groups.
Of the violets swinging their golden bells
As the light win ! swoops.
Hlng roc a song of the shallow lakes.
Of the hollow fall o f the nimble rill,
0/ the trolling rapture the robin wakes
On th« windy hill.
Bing me a song of the gleaming swift,
O the vivid Maryland yellow-throat,
0/ the vesper sparrow’s silver drift
From the rise remote.
Bing me a song of the crystal cage,
Where the tender plants In the frames
are set,
Wh ro kneels my Jove Armltage,
Planting the pleasant mignonette.
H|ng me a song of the glow afar,
Of the misty air and the crocus light,
Of the new moon following a silver star
Tnrough the early night.
—Duni-an (’. Bcott, in Bcrlbner.
A QUAKER IN LOVE.
F ITE little Quaker
community of Hills
boro had been in
l i\ which vaded lings that by had two summer, so world- dis
m ' m m turbed its -wonted
quietness that
Brother Cox had
been forced t o
lament more than
once, “Alas, that
this should be! The days of our
peace have gone.”
Brother Cox felt the trouble more
than the other members of the com¬
munity, for ho knew that he was
partly responsible for it. To think
that his nephew, his only brother’s
son, should come out to Hillsboro, and
in those fow short months raised such
a commotion among the people !
But there was a redeeming virtue in
the Mtuug man which Brother Cox
dwelt upon with a feeling of relief.
Before the saucy fuce and blue eyes of
Ella Strattan were seen in Hillsboro
Jack Cox was as quiet and demure as
the most conservative Quaker.
True, he only attended meetings
once a week , and then it was gener¬
ally out of respect for his uncle ; but
ho n Ivor entered into the gay life
which had since shocked the sensibili¬
ties of tho Quakers.
Naturally, Brother Cox took a per¬
sonal dislike to tho new tenants of the
deserted cottage on tho outskirts of
tho village, and he could scarcely con¬
ceal his disapproval of tho young
girl's actions. Ho felt convinced that
she was at the botton of all the trou¬
ble.
Her snowy dress, pink checks, blue
eyes and rippling laughter suggested
tho world too strong for the Quaker’s
to enjoy,
“She belongs to the world,” Brother
Cox said one day, as he passed her.
“Sho has no right out here among
our peaceful people. It will be well
for us when she leaves.”
They wero only summer tenants,
and consisted simply of Mrs. Stratton,
her daughter, and two servants. They
•lid not exhibit much wealth or finery,
but to tho plain Quakers their dress
and general appearance seemed alto¬
gether out of propriety.
Then tho way Ella laughed, and
tramped over tho fields on foot or
rode on horseback, shocked the good
housewives. Jack Cox had kuown the
family in tho city, aiul he soon joined
Ella iu these rides and walks.
It w as from such a simple beginning
that tho trouble arose. The old en¬
ticement of woman had led the young
man astray, and he was soon looked
upon as being as great a sinner as the
fair temptress.
The two were practically ostracized
in the community, and the upright
Quakers passed them with only a nod
and simple word of greetiug. Ella only
wondered, but Jack shrugged his
shoulders.
Brother Cox was inclined to be more
lenient than the others. His fields
stretched nearly out to the cottage of
the Strattons, and he would often stop
in his work to glance at the red house,
One day ho paused iu his labors, and
looked up to discover the bright face
of Ella Stratton. She was loaning on
tho fence which separated the two
grounds.
“Don’t you get tired of work, Mr.
Cox?” she asked, in a sweet voice. “I
do, dreadfully, and you are older than
lam.”
lhe good Quaker straightened him
self up to his full six feet. He was
still a line-looking man of fifty, with
gray locks, a calm, noble face and
dark eyes.
‘Work keeps us from mischief,’
he answered seriously.
“I know that, and I suppose you
thiuk I ought to be at work now, and
not standing here to bother you,” she
replied.
“It would be better for you," was
the rather unexpected reply
The girl s checks colored a little at
the nugallaut words, but she asked,
demurely: “Do you think 1 m so very
wicked?
“Ye are of the world and worldly
minded. I cannot judge thee, but
thy actions have not my approval. ’
what do 1 do that you don’t
like.-' she asked, iu a penitent voice,
“You know that I have been brought
tip so, and how could I know what to
do?”
“That isn’t the question; ye can do
better now. ”
Oh, I \\ould like to do better—so
uiuch . M ill you tell me how ? I
should like so much to have you, for
IHlwjou.
1 his was said in so artless aud in
noeent a tone that it went straight
home to the mau s heart. As he
walked away from the place
minutes lsier he recalled the look
wh.th accompanied the words, Buch
a fate, such e_vc>, moutii and ex
pressiou ate not often seen in this
prosaic world, and Brother Cox should
bo forgiven for thinking of them
again, aud then again. He never
knew before how pretty and winuiug
the “Stratton girl" was.
If she was only of our belief and
number, he muttered to himself,
‘But I might try to make her one.
THE MONROE ADVERTISER, FORSYTH, GA, TUESDAY, MAY 1, 1894.-EIGHT PAGES.
She is not ret lost to wickedness. She
wants to learn. 1*11 teach her.
After that the old hedge proved a
regular trysting-place for the two.
Ella found plenty of excuses for going
out to the fields, and Brother Cox culti
vated the field near that fence oftener
than elsewhere. The weeds persisted
in cropping up on the west side of the
| fi^ld, and he felt bound to keep them
| nndercontrol.
■ One day Ella brought some lemon
! ade out to him, carrying it in a small
I silver pitcher. It was some of her
| own manufacture, and the day was so
warm that it was very refreshing.
“Oh, Mr. Cox, I have some lemon
ade for you,” she said, as she hurried
over the field. “I hope you like
lemonade. I made it myself, and you
looked so hot and tired out here in
the sun that I had to bring you a
drink.”
Brother Cox did drink, and smacked
his lips. It was so kind of her to
think of him, and while he talked he
admired her bright face and manners.
Could any man look upon such a
vision of beauty and not feel his pulse
beat faster? Cold and dutiful as the
Quaker was, there was still much vi¬
tality of youth in his strong frame.
After all, he was only a man, and
the rights of nature soon broke
through all barriers of steel. He loved
the beautiful girl who helped him to
lemonade.
Was he too old for such a bright
girl to look upon with favor? He had
been called the handsomest man of
the community before he courted his
dead wife, and he was sure he still pos
Messed some of the requisites of a
1 lover.
He could teach her the ways of his
sect, and give her a fine home. He
would gradually draw- her away from
I the ways of evil, aud centre her mind
upon thoughts of love, charity and re¬
ligion.
“She may be frail now, but the
sturdy oak was once but a sapling,”
he said. “She can learn and grow.”
He trod the floor of his old home with
a lighter and firmer stej>. The bare¬
ness of the old-fashioned rooms im¬
pressed him with a sense of dissatis¬
faction. They would have to be re
furnished and brightened. The flowers
and vines around the house needed
cultivation aud pruning, and even the
outside of the house would need a new
coat of paint.
“I’ve thought of doing this before,”
Brother Cox muttered, “and it may
bo done now.”
There were improvements about the
yard, the gardens and the outbuild¬
ings which were readily suggested to
his critical eye. He made notes of
these things and resolved to make a
complete transformation.
“Bho has been brought up in the
ways of the city and she would not
like to come to a gloomy house. It
will be just as well to improve things
a little at first. She can’t grow into
our ways at once.”
The golden harvest of the autumn
was approaching. The crops nodded
obeisance to the reapers on every side.
The autumn colors suggested peace
aud quietness in the Quaker com¬
munity after the toilsome days of the
summer.
Brother Cox stood by the iiedge sep¬
arating his fields from the garden sur¬
rounding the tenant’s cottage.
The day’s work had been finished
and the faint shadows suggested the
approach of twilight. Ella Stratton,
with a meek, demure face, was stand¬
ing before him.
“I feel that I have become so much
better this summer,” she said. “You
know why; you have been so good to
me and taught me so much.”
“You should not say that, for it
might make me vain. Such a sin
should not come to me at my age.”
“Why, you are not old, Mr. Cox.”
There was a thrill of pleasure in the
sturdy frame, and it seemed to straight¬
en more erectly than ever.
“Then my errand here will be made
easier for me. Ye know that I have
come here for a purpose. Ye have
guessed it?”
“Yes, Mr. Cox, I have,” was tho
quick reply, while the face flushed
beautifully.
This must be the way of the world,
he thought, for the girl to make such
advances. It was so different in the
community,
“I would have sjioken to thee be
fore, but I wished to know thee bet
That’s why I’ve spent so many
hours at this fence talking to thee.”
“Oh, how kind of you! I wanted
to know you better, too. I thought
probably you would dislike me. I was
so different from you—and wicked.”
“But ye are learning our ways, and
ye art very apt. Ye can be very good,
and there is nothing like having a
protector.
“And such a good protector as I
shall have,” she said, with a look of
admiration at him.
<*Ye are kind to say so. The Coxes
have always been good to their wives
and families.”
“I know that, for they are so good
to every one now. I love them ; I be
lieve that I love the whole family. I
never enjoyed a summer so much as
this oue in Hillsboro.”
It was graceful for her to say it. He
felt that she made his wooing easy.
How remarkable that she had
divined his feelings all along!
“Then ye think that I will suit
thee?” he asked, in a voice that was
almost raillery. ‘We have studied me
enough at the fence?”
“Yes; I know I shall like you; I
knew it from the first. Everybody
thought that you were so cold and
stern that vou couldn’t love anv one,
but I knew differently. I liked you
then, and ~~ J now I T love 1 you. ”
She kissed his brawny hand itn
pulsively, her warm lips sending a de
licious thrill through him.
This was not an old man s courting,
but a young woman’s, and, though
strange to Brother Cox, it had a
sweetness that drowned any thoughts
of wrong.
Flushed with his success, he felt
that he could be plainer, and he con
tinued, “\e know 1 m strict in my
living, not approving frailties and gay
life. That should repel thee.
Oh, uo! Jack told me all about
that at first. He said you were strict,
but that you had a loving heart be
neath it ad. He always got along
well with you and he knew that I
would.
Jack, Jack! Had he known of it all?
Had he been putting her up to this
strange wooing, laughing in his
sleeve at his uncle’s sentiment?
The girl continued rapidly, “He
wanted to speak to yon first and tell
you all. He knew that you would dis
prove of our match, but I told him
not to tell you. I would first win
your friendship and then your love.
I would meet you every day, and if I
could make you like me by autumn,
then he could tell you. I didn’t know
as I could marry him if you didn’t give
your consent, but when I found how
nice and good you were I felt that it
was all right.”
A shadow seemed to settle over the
landscape. Everything appeared dark,
Night must be approaching, and a
man’s eyes at fifty are not quite as
good as at twenty-five,
Brother Cox heard the voice of the
girl, but it all seemed so strange. He
had not thought of Jack.
“Are you going now? Ob, yes, it
) 8 getting dark! I didn’t realize that
it was so late, I must go back to the
house, too. The dew is on the grass.
Good night. Jack and I will always
love you—always.”
He felt the preasure of the warm
lips on his hand again, but they did
not send a thrill through him as before.
It certainly was dark walking across
the field, and, several times Brother
Cox stopped to find his way. It was
strange that he should get lost in the
fields which he had tilled and culti¬
vated for forty years, When he
reached the house he felt tired, and he
rested on the front piazza before en¬
tering the large dining-room. The
painters and carpenters had left their
tools around, reminding him of the
improvements he was having made in
his home. They seemed a mockery
now.
Ho entered the house and walked
across the strong floors. Then he
strolled toward the dining-room.
“Jack, Jack, where are ye? I want
to see thee. Come here! I know all
—everything. She has told me, and
ye have my approval. I’m getting
the house fixed up, and ye must come
here and live.”
“Is it really true, uncle? You are
as good as you are handsome, uncle.
Ella always said you were.”
“Ye must live here every summer,
and come and see me as often as ye
can in winter."
“We will uncle.”—New r York
World.
Obeyed Orders Strictly.
“When I was a youngster of seven
teen,” said a successful business man
to a Detroit Free Press reporter, “I
got a job as collector with a man who
was about as strict a martinet as I evei
saw. He insisted on everything being
done just as he said, and there wen
times when life w'as verily a burden,
but 1 stuck to him for six months, then
we had a difference. It was this way:
One morning he called me up and
handed me a bill ->n a man I knew and
said to me to take it around and col¬
lect it.
“ ‘It’s one of our standbys,’ he said,
‘and every collector I ever sent to him
reported him absent or not findable or
something. Now you go and don’t
come back here till you see him.’
“ ‘Do you mean that,’I asked,as two
or three clerks looked up.
“ ‘You know me,’ was all he said in
reply and I went out after my man.
“He wasn’t at home, the people
said, and wouldn’t be for six weeks.
So I stuck the bill in my pocket and
went off up the country on a visit.
The old man sent after me half a dozen
times, but my folks could only tell I
was out of town, and I never paid any
attention to a letter I got from the
boss, but went on enjoying myself.
Then I came back and had a visit with
some other friends and at the end of
six weeks I called on my man again
with the bill. I foun t him at home
and told him what I had done, and he
paralyzed me by paying the bill with
interest. Two hours later I stepped
into the boss’s office.
“ ‘There,” I said, before he had time
to gather his wits, ‘is the amount of
your bill and interest. He was out of
town for six weeks and I couldn’t see
him before. You told me not to coma
back till I did see him, and I was obey¬
ing your instructions. I had a rat¬
tling good time and the house owes me
six weeks’ salary.’
‘ ‘The old man gasped, got blue in
the face and I thought he was going
to explode, but he didn’t; he gulped
it all down and stuck out his hand.
“ ‘Young man,’ he said, ‘you ought
to have been a soldier ; I’m going to
put you in charge of the collection de¬
partment and double your salary. ’
And,” concluded the merchant, “when
I was twenty-five 1 was a partner.”
For Sudden Toothaches.
Toothache is a little thing in the
books, but many physicians would
rather meet a burglar at the door on
a dark night than call to cure a bad
toothache of several days’ continu
ance. A hypodermic of morphine only
postpones the evil day, and usually
the patient is respectfully referred to
the dentist. The tooth should not be
extracted while the jaw and gums are
inflamed and the latter swollen, and it
is the physician’s duty to treat the
case until the above conditions are
removed. Always keep a small vial
containing the following mixture:
“Chloroform, gtt. x. : glycerine, gtt.
x. ; sat. sol. ac. carbol., gtt. x. ;* moi
phine, gr. j., with a small wad of ab
sorbent cotton. If the offending tooth
has a cavity or decayed surface satu
rate a small pellet of cotton with the
above mixture and put in the cavity
or against the decaysd surface, as the
case may be—never pack the cotton in
or the more is the trouble, but have
the pellet small enough to enter with
out crowding. In most cases this will
end the trouble.
When the gums are swollen andten
der paint two or three times, twe
minutes apart, with a four-per-cent.
solution of cocoaine. This time o t
year vour patient mav have been eat
ing a^good^deal of fruit. The tongue
and mucous membrane of the mouth
are pale, he has a sour stomach, and
next dav the toothache will return,
Give ten grains of sub-carbonats of
bismuth and ten grains of phenaeetnie
at once and a smaller dose before each
of the three following meals, with a
laxative if needed, and to stop all
fruit for a few days, and it will not
return. The same powder everv two
hours with cessation of fruit eating
will stop the persistent tormentina
neuralgia so prevalent at this season
—Medical Record.
THE TABU.
ODD CUSTOMS OF NATIVES OF
NEW ZEALAND.
Darkest Superstition, Which Has a
Picturesque Side-Wholesale Rob¬
bery Sanctioned by Law—Dig¬
ging Up Dead Bones.
u "TEW ZEALAND has become
! ] so far modified by Euro-
1 \ peau influence that the
(T most interteresting of the
anaient native customs are fast dying
out,' said a traveler to a writer for
The Star. ‘‘Enough of them remain,
however, to furnish a very curious
study to the anthropologist. Most
important is the system of ‘tabu, eon
ceming which much has been written,
It if spread all over Polynesia, where
it has held control for many centuries,
dominating the people with the awe
of a religious dread.
“I can best explain the system by
describing its operation. In
Zealand formerly a chief was always a
personage greatly revered. All his
goods, the place where he stayed, and
anything he handled became tabu—
that ie to say, sacred. W hen at home,
he was surrounded by a charmed cir
cle, into which only his most intimate
friends were permitted, to enter by ex
press invitation. No one could eat in
his house or take a light from his fire,
No woman was allowed to enter his
dwelling until a ceremony had been
gone through. The great man could not
carry food, lest to do so should cause
his death by destroying his tabu. The
chief could not blow fire with his mouth,
The sacred breath would communicate
his sanctity to the flames and a brand
might possibly be taken by a slave or
man of another tribe, which would
cause the death of the great man. His
food was always served separately, and
once set apart it became tabu. No one
would think of eating with him or of
touching anything left by him. Such
leavings were always thrown away into
one of the sacred places, and woe be
to the pig which broke into one of
tnese forbidden garbage repositories.
The animal was at once killed and
thrown away for its impiety. This
custom has become so far modified that
nowadays only the snout and feet are
thrown away, those being the parts
which have come into contact with the
holy ground. The carcass is eaten—a
much more economical plan.
“To show how strong belief in the
tabu used to be in New Zealand, there
were instances where natives ate the
food of a chief by accident, and, on
being informed as to what they had
done, they became suddenly ill and
died in a few hours as if from poison.
To such a point will imagination go.
Very little of this notion now remains.
The New Zealand chief is still a great
man, particularly in time of war, but
he is approachable by the common
people, and his friends and followers
do not hesitate to take food with him.
As things used to be, a powerful chief
might break through the tabu of a
minor one, The system afforded a
convenient means of appropriating
any article coveted. The chief had
only to call it his backbone, or to give
it his own name, and it was at once
taken possession of for him by his
people. If lie wished to prevent a
person from going to a certain place,
or by a certain road, he had only to
make one or the other tabu. If a
drop of his blood fell upon anything,
the latter at once became tabu.
“The system was sometimes a use¬
ful one. Places were made tabu for
certain periods—for example, rivers
until the fishing was ended, districts
until the hunting of rats and the
catching of birds were done, woods
until the berries were gathered, and
cultivated fields until the harvest was
finished. All the laborers employed
in planting became tabu, so that they
could not leave the fields until their
work was finished. They were not
allowed to mix with society until the
tabu was removed from them by suit¬
able and elaborate ceremonies. The
tabu sometimes served a good purpose
by preserving life. Prisoners of war
were often saved from death, as was
Mr. Cotterill in the famous Wairan
massacre of 1843. A bloodthirsty
chief had one hand on his shoulder
and with the other was raising a
hatchet to brain him, when another
man of influence jumped forward and
threw his mat over the captive. This
action rendered the latter tabu, so
that he could not be touched. A
fruitful source of tabu was death.
Every utensil employed by a person
defunct, all the clothes he wore, and
even the house he died in were tabu.
“If a prominent man died his house
was never used again. It was shut up
and everything in it left to rot. This
custom remains in force to-day in
New Zealand to a considerable extent,
Some of the natives of the interior
build a small structure over the grave,
in which they hang up the clothing
and other portable property of the
deceased, leaving them to be destroyed
bv time. Sometimes when a chief
dies all of his property is burned, ^
very peculiar practice is the disinter¬
ment of the bones of the dead for re
burial in a final resting place. This
used to be one of the most important
ceremonies among the natives, but it
is now disappearing. J °
“Some time , before * the , ceremony a
notice is sent around stating that on a
certain day there will be a'hahunga
of so-and-so s remains. When the
relaLves and friends are gatnered to
gether the bones of the defunct are
dug up and tied m a bundle. L de
cay has not made them clean they are
scraped. An elaborate performance family
follows and finally one of the
takes the bones and deposits them
secretly m some place known only to
himself, such as a cave or the top of a
tree, the object being that they may
never be found. It is of the utmost
importance that they shall not fall into
the hands of enemies, who would dese¬
crate and ill-use them with jeers and
curses. The skull might be utilized
as a dish for food or placed on a stake
to be daily reviled. The bones of the
body might be employed for fish
hooks or dining forks. The reason
now assigned for keeping uj) this
strange custom is fear lest the bones
fall into the hands Europeans, to be
ground up into manure.
“Not less extraordinary in its way
than the tabu is the‘muru.’ This may
be described as a sort of judicial rob
bery or sequestration of a man’s goods
because of some misdeed alleged or
something he has said or a misfortune
1 that has happened to him. Any
se¬
rious accident in a person's family is
made an excuse for muru. If his child
dies a violent death, or his cauoe cap¬
sizes and somebody is drowned, a raid
is made on his property. Sometimes
everything lie possesses is taken from
him. though nowadays the mum is
usually limited to his horses or cattle.
The plundering party may despoil the
unfortunate family of all eatables and
other movables, spearing the tame
pigs and digging up the root crops.
This sort of proceeding is entirely law
ful and regular. Indeed, the family
so despoiled would feel injured if the
muru was not carried out thoroughly,
However, this peculiar system is lim
ited and controlled to a considerable
extent by the fact that a man upon
whom a muru is inflicted is entitled to
the privilege of returning the compli
ment. Thus if A robs B, the latter
may with propriety take the damage
out of A by a surprise party in kind.' 1
Vegetables From Abroad.
Among the foreign vegetables in out
market now is cabbage from Denmark,
which sells wholesale for $10 a lmn
dred. These heads are much more
firm and heavy than any home grown
cabbage, although the native product
i s said to be sweeter. Beautiful new
potatoes have been coming from Hav
ana for a iveek and bring $6 a barrel;
old potatoes from Bermuda bring the
same price. Scotch magnums still sell
at higher prices than our native pota
toes, being of larger size, more regu
l&r in form and mere evenly selected,
They are considered better than the
potatoes from either England or Ire
land, but not so good as those from
Germany. At present prices, which
are one-third less than they were last
year, after the cost of sacking, trans
portation and duty is deducted, the
returns to the Scotch dealer can hard*
ly be more than fifty cents a barrel,
Last month 40,000 sacks of these po
tatoes arrived, lmt the market is so
dull that many of them are still kept
in storage.
From France we are receiving Brus
se Is sprouts at twenty-five cents a
pound, and cauliflower at forty to fifty
cents a head. Corn salad, chives and
escarole from the South make the
markets green. Florida is sending
peppers, egg-plants, okra, beans and
peas, the last of which command as
much as $S to $9 a bushel crate when
of the first quality. A few bunches of
Charleston asparagus, the first to
arrive here this season, sold last week
at $1.50 a bunch, but the quality
scarcely warranted this extreme price.
Apjiles still remain scarce, although
they are held in considerable quantity
in the interior of the State. North¬
ern Spies, Baldwin and Greenings
bring $6 a barrel, while it is hard to
get Kings even at $8 a barrel. —Garden
and Forest.
A Chinese Horror.
In Pekin, as in all Chinese cities, no
provision is made for the burial of in¬
fants ; and the destruction of girl
babies, as well as of weakly children,
is a well-known fact. A sort of w heel¬
barrow, however, occasionally gathers
up from the streets, where there is no
sewerage and receptacles of refuse, the
little bodies—many of them thrown
out with no care as to any lingering
traces of life. The contents of wheel¬
barrow's are dumped in fields outside
of the city, and the dogs and jackals
feast upon the victims of Chinese ten¬
derness. Meanwhile the hearts of all
the Christian missionaries in the city,
w'hom Mr. Michie describes as breath¬
ing out the rage and fume of Moloch
ists, were heavy and their hands busy.
They went to the field, through a com¬
mon agent, and in one w'eek picked up
and cared for three hundred little
waifs, from whom life had scarcely de¬
parted or w'ho were still alive! This is
but an incident.—New York Post.
Breeding Angora Goats.
The owner of a band of Angora goats
ranging about twenty-five miles north
east of town says that a band of 100
of the number has increased in two
years to 500. The wool or hair of this
breed is very valuable and they sub¬
sist on ranges where cattle "would
starve.
There is very little snow on the
range, and the loss is very light, as
the animals are of a very hardy na
ture. The only loss sustained was
from the depredations of coyotes,
which frequently killed the kids that
became separated from the band, un
til the herder procured shepherd
dogs.
There are large areas of white safe
included iu the range where the
band is feeding, which is more nutri
live than either bunch-grass or alfalfa,
and in the early spring the herder
says the band gets “rolling fat” from
grazing on that character of feed.—
Virginia (Nev.) Enterprise,
Married in Two and a Ball Seconds.
When the town board meeting of
West Indianapolis was in session last
night Justice of the Peace Allen, who
vvas P 1 ® 8611 ^’ ^ as summ o n ed to perform
a marriage ceremony. The contract
ing parties were John Perry and Miss
c '- 1iee ' v L The ceremony was per -
iormed , at tne residence of the bride
on Bridge street. When Mr. Allen
entered the house he was desired b
both tieg that t he ceremonv be a
, hort one . Mr . AIleu prompt ly tied
thfe kuot Mr Wynne, who had taken
( his watch from hifJ pocket to note the
time consumed in the ceremonv>
itartled them ail by announcing ° that
“
the workVs record had just beer
brokell
..y ou have taken on] two and one .
haJf sec onds in the ceremonv.”
Another gent leman present affirmed
Mf W vnne’s statement.-Indianapo 1
“
ljg j our na i
8150U For an Egg Shell.
It is interesting to note that it is
not always the newest and the freshest
1 egg that commands the highest price,
for at a recent auction in London an
old egg. or. rather the shell only, was
sold for a sum equivalent to $1590.
It was the shell of the egg of a great
auk, a now extinct bird, and there are
only sixty-eight of them in existence,
as far as is known. Sir Y. H. Crewe,
Bart., was the purchaser, and the
price was the highest ever paid for an
auk s egg sold under the hammer.— i
New York Herald. :
FLYING BYTiGHT,
HOW < ARKIl.R PIGEONS FIND
THEIR WAY HOME.
Aot by Instinct or Some Mysterious
Souse, Rut by Following
the “Lay of the
Land.”
P ROFEbSOR (.dark ter, Mass., l uivcrsitv, C. has F. been HODOE, at Worces- experi- of
rier o meuting to ascertain how car
pigeons find their way home, and
the result of his work is given in Pop
u ’ ar Science Monthly. It entirely
dissipates the popular notion that car
rier pigeons are guided by some “di
rection sense, or blind instinct, or,
as the French have put it, that they
follow certain electrical currents,
whieh their delicate senses apprehend,
I he result of Professor Hodge’s
work is to demonstrate that carrier
pigeons are guided by sight alone. He
says that no carrier pigeon can find
ins way over strange country, that he
is likely io get lost in a fog, and that
until he learns from experience he is
oiten fooled by colors or objects
which appear to be familiar. Thus
w-itn some young pigeons, with which
the Professor experimented they flow
to the nearest red barn when let out
oi a closed cage, supposing it to be
the red barn near the home loft, and
for a time they would fly to any red
barn that came in sight.
Another curious fact was noticed
about these young pigeons. The mo*
ment they were liberated from their
home lolt they flew to the top of the
nearest about chimney and began to look
and take mental notes. Thirty
live minutes were thus occupied in
noting every detail of their surround
ings, looking eagerly this way and
that, and covering all the points of
the compass. Having learned the
“lay of the land, they were ready to
l»o taken oh a quarter of a mile or so,
w hen, flying up to a great height,
they saw some familiar object to w r hicli
they would fly at once and quickly
find their w'ay to the loft.
It was noticed by the Professor,
however, that some of these pigeons
were fools and others very sagacious.
The fools got lost easily, did not pro¬
ceed upon any rational basis, and al¬
lowed themselves to be deceived by
trees and hills which took them in the
w rong direction. The more sagacious
pigeons where liberated in a strange
place would fly to a great height in a
constantly widening circle. In a very
few' minutes they would sweep a ter¬
ritory fifty miles in extent of vision.
Even when the home-loft was less than
a mile away some of the carrier
pigeons wasted immense effort and
time in trying to find it.
One of them made four circles and
rose high in the air. To the south
and west were lakes and woods, with
but few farm-houses, Towards the
north was the village of South Madi¬
son, Wis., near which the experiments
were held. The pigeon rushed off in
the wrong direction to inspect a red
barn, which he thought looked like
thaJ- near the loft, but he came back
to the starting point, and from there
started off to the State capital. He
reached the city, but found nothing
familiar and spent sorao time circling
over it, having covered a distance of
ten miles in less than eight minutes.
He was liberated at 4 o’clock and re
turned to the loft at 5, having Ilown,
it was estimated, at the rate of a mile
a minute.
A week later this same pigeon flew
home from the same hill in less than
a minute. The first flights of the
carrier pigeons were very crooked and
tortuous, and are illustrated by the
charts published by Professor Hodge.
But after they had been once or twice
over the ground they flew almost in a
straight line, and with incredible
speed. Liberated from a boat on a
lake it was noticed the birds always
flew to the nearest land. One of them,
a “tool” pigeon, looked over the same
ground again and again, with no ap¬
parent confidence in his own ability,
and then flew back to the boat in the
lake.
One of his companions, a clever
bird, kept increasing his circles over
the land until some familiar object
caught his eye, and from there he
quickly found his way home. The
former was subsequently lost when
liberated with eleven others, all of
whom found their way to tho home
loft. This also goes to show that
carrier pigeons do not fly in flocks
and render no assistance to each other,
each one apparently desiring to paddle
his o'wn canoe.
The birds, it seems, can always find
their way back to the point from
which they start, and failing to learn
the way to their home will often re¬
turn there. When they proceed by
making constantly widening circles,
however, there is no use of their re¬
turning for a fresh start. Borne of the
carrier pigeons, especially the younger
ones, started off in a zig-zag course
when liberated and missed familiar
objects at a short distance.
The spiral, says Professor Hodge,
is the ideal way to cover every inch
of the ground. He says that carrier
pigeons do not circle about in the air
for sport or exercise, but that it is
part of their searching instinct, al¬
ways on the alert to see their way and
note the landscape. In searching for
a lost tennis ball, he noticed that the
natural instinct of dogs and men seemed
to be the spiral widening out from
the center, but that some boys
searched by a series of straight lines.
Professor Hodge estimates that the
distance at which a prominent land¬
mark is visible is three miles.
The best time made in the first
flight of a bird was twenty-six miles
m five hours and nine minutes. Tak
ing three miles as tne limit of vision
over broken country, Professor Hodge
estimates that the least length of the
involute of a circle which would bring
a bird from a distance of twenty-six
miles to within sight of the loft is 219
mHes, and he says that m five hours it
li than n °U\ 2o0 ke1 miles. ?, that the pigeau flew less
What becomes of the lost carrier
pigeons? That is a question suggest¬
ed by the numerous disappearances of
trained birds within the experience of
every pigeon fancier. It has been
supposed that they united with others
of their-breed, but it is a rare thing
for srrange pigeons to fly into the
loft. To be “lost” is supposed to
cause the carrier pigeon the utmost
distress of mind. Its whole life and
all its instincts appear to be directed
to finding its way back to its home.
But then even carrier pigeons come to
love a new home even better than an
old one, and they can pick up a living
wherever they may happen to be.
Supreme Bravery ol Two 31eii.
The heroism of the two men, Heath
and Andrews—the one a lad of twenty,
the other a man of forty-two—who
lost their lives in bravely endeavoring
to rescue a comrade at the Pye Bridge
(England) Chemical Works, deserves
something more than a mere compli
ment from a coroner's jury. Bysoi*,'
accidental removal of the packing or
plug in a tube a quantity of carbonic
acid had found its way into one of the
“stills” in which a man named Greaves
was at work. The “stills” are iron
chambers cased with brick and cylin
drical, having a diameter of five feet
and a half, and the only way to do
scend into them is by a man-liole at
the top. Looking down through
this aperture the little group of w ork
people who had been brought to the
scene by the cry for help could see
Greaves lying overcome at the bot
tom. Quick as thought Andrews
caught the rope and, instantly fol
lowed by Heath, descended. Holding
their breath as long as they could,
they succeeded in seizing their com
rade, and wero drawn up near enough
to the aperture for a man named Clay
to grasp them ; but the dead weight of
the men in a stupor was too much for
Clay’s strength, and the poisonous
fumes were acting upon him also,
pulled,” said Clay, “till I lost my
senses. I can’t remember more till I
saw a lot of men round the top.”
Meanwhile Greaves and his two brave
rescuers had fallen back into the still,
Yet another and another effort to
descend was made by bystanders; but
it was found impossible to live in the
fumes, and they were drawui back,
Finally the bodies were recovered with
the aid of a long iron rod with a hook,
but unhappily the efforts of the med
ical attendant to restore animation
proved unavailing.—Chicago Times,
Has an Eagle for a Pel.
Borne weeks ago S. B. Cooper was
out hunting when ho came across a
black eagle. He finally shot it in the
wings with very fine shot. This made
it unable to fly, and so he captured it
alive. Little damage was done by the
shot, and the bird has now thoroughly
recovered and can any day be seen in
its cage by the water tower. The bird
is young and a female.
The strange thing is that the eagle
has learned to liko Mr. Cooper. It
will come to him when he goes into
tae cage, and he can handle it as much
as lie pleases. It is wont to eat meat
out of his hand, aud in many ways
acts unlike black eagles, which, the
saying is, can never bo tamed.
The bird measures six feet nine
inches from tip to tip of its wings,
and weighs about fifteen pounds.—
Bakersfield Californian.
A Military Philosopher.
Napoleon, in the course of his Italian
campaign, took a Hungarian battalion
prisoners. The Colonel, an old man,
complained bitlerly of the French
mode of fighting, by rapid and desul¬
tory attacks on the flank, the rear, the
lines of communication, etc., conclud¬
ing by saying tlmt he fought in the
army of Maria Theresa. “You must
be old,” said Napoleon. “Yes, I am
either sixty or seventy,” was the reply.
“Why, Colonel,” remarked the Cor
sican, “you have certainly lived long
enough to know how to count years a
little more closely?” “General,” said
the Hungarian, “I reckon my money,
my shirts, and my horses ; but as for
my years, I know that nobody w r ill
want to steal them, and that I shall
never lose one of them. ”—New York
Sun.
Traits of the German Chancellor.
Count Caprivi,the German Chancel¬
lor, has very few attendants—a single
bodyguard and a cook of doubtful ca¬
pabilities. He rises at six to dress in
uniform. At seven comes a cup of tea,
and with it the morning papers. Then
ho takes a ride. The return is at ten,
when he dispatches correspondence and
gives interviews. Lunch is served at
the German hour, 12.15. The inter¬
val between one and fi ve is devoted to
the State, and at six comes dinner, a
meal conspicuous by the absence of
ladies and a gorgeous variety of uni¬
forms. The Count does not work in
the evening. He has one hobby—•
gardening, and can console him¬
self in any disappointment by contem¬
plating his fine cabbage and superb
dahlias, —Chicago Record.
A Giant Amethyst Found.
A huge amethyst, weighing twelve
pounds and measuring nine inckes by
five in thickness, was found recently
by Billy Norwood, Norwood dis
covered the stone on Granite Creek,
his attention being first attracted by
the brilliant display of colors spark¬
ling in the sunlight. The color takes
the most beautiful shade, a violet-blue
and a pinkish-purple, in one hexagonal
prism, which will measure about four
inches. A variety of tints are shown
through the balance of the stone, ac¬
cording to the mixture of peroxide of
manganese when it was formed.
This particular specimen is of the
hardest variety of tpiartz or rock
crystal, cutting plate-glass almost as
neatly as a diamond. It is more valu¬
able as a beauty specimen, probably,
than for commercial purposes.—Hel¬
ena (Montana) Herald.
^ Punishment for Contempt,
Judge Woods, of Sioux City, Iowa,
took a very prompt and effectual,
though quite unusual, method of p__ un
ishing contempt of his court the other
Amt Olsen went into court and
demanded his fees for having testified
a witness in a case. The Jud-e told
that the case having been ap
the fees could not be paid un- "
WttS settled. Then Olsen called
a liar. The Judge grabbed his
jumped dotvn from the bench,
hit Olsen over the head, Olsen
but the Judge followed him
the street, belaboring him all the
until the cane was reduced to
wood, and Olsen was covered
blood. So far as heard from, the
has not been noticed by the
Orleans Picayune,