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VOLUME XXII-
w
NEWNAN, GEOftGIA, TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 1887.
NUMBER 19.
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Address all communications to
AUa A. B-CATEri, Newnan Ga
Our lives are albums, written through
With good or ill, with false or true.
BERTIIINE’S captives.
Kothing was to be heard in the forest
ow the rustling of the snow falling upon
the eiflars as it had been falling since
midday, a fine, powdery snow tliat spread
n |ion the branches a frozen moss, upon
tli. firs a coating of silver and upon the
roads and pathways an immense carpet,
soft and white, and which intensified the
stillness of this 3ea of trees.
before the door of a forester’s hut a
young woman with her sleeves rolled up
to the elbows was cutting weed with an
ax ti|>on a stone. Tall, supple and strong,
sin- was a true daughter of the forest ami
the child and wife of a, forester. Sud
denly a voice came from the interior of
the house:
■We arc alone this evening, Berthine;
eotne in and make everything fast. There
may te Prussians as well as wolves in the
forest to-night.”
The wood chopper responded with a re
sounding stroke of the ax.
"I have nearly finished, mother,” Bhe
said; “besides, there ia no need of fear
yet; it is still daylight.” Nevertheless,
she brought in her fagots and sticks of
wood, ami piling them up in the chimney
comer went out again to close up the
shed; then re-entering, the room she
pushed to the door and locked and bolted
it.
ller mother, an old and wrinkled
woman whom age had made timid and
nervous, was seated by the fireside spin
ning-
• I do not like it, Berthine, said she;
“when your father is from home, two
women are not strong.”
“But I am not afraid,” the girl re
sponded; "I ran defend myself from a
wolf or a Prussian all the same,” and
she glanced significantly at a huge re
volver suspended above the chimney
piece. ;
Berthine’s husband had been in the
army ever Rince the Iwginning of the
Prussian invasion, and these two women
had remained alone with only the old
father, Nicholas Piclion. the gamekeeper,
ns he was called in the neighborhood,
who had obstinately refused to leave his
dwelling and seek protection in the city.
The city nearest the Pichon hut was
Bethel, a quaint and ancient place perched
upon a high rock. Filled with patriot
ism, the citizens had decided to resist in
vaders—to Shut themselves up, and if nec
essary sustain a siego such as had taken
place in the time of their forefathers—^for
twice already the inhabitants of .Bethel,
ip- the day's of Henry IV and Louis XIV ,■
had rendered themselves thus illustrious.
Purchasing a supply of cannon and guns,
equipping a militia, and forming them
selves into tettalions and companies, they
exercised daily on the Place d'Armes.
Bakers, grocers, butchers, notaries, law
yers, cabinet makers, librririans and even
druggists maneuvered in turn at tho regu
lation hour under tho command of M.
Lavignc, an ex-officer of dragoons, and
to-day, thanks to his having married
the daughter and heiress of the shop
keeper, Raredan, the richest and most in
fluential man in the city.
And thus they patiently waited the
Prussians, tho Prussians who never came,
though twice they had been seen in the
forest, in the neighborhood of Pichon’s
hut, who had run to warn the city.
This house of Nicholas Pichon’s served
ns a sort of advance post in the forest of
Areline; and twice a week the old man
went into the city to purchase provisions
mid to carry to the citizens the latest news
of the campaign.
His errand to Rethel to-day was to an
nounce t hat n small detachment of Ger
man infantry had halted near his house
about 2 o’clock that morning. They did
not remain long, nor did he know the di
rection they had taken, but all the same,
as soon ns they had gone again Piclion
called his dogs and started for the city,
instructing his wife and daughter to bolt
and barricade the house when night
should fall, and on no account to open
tho door, no matter who might knock.
Berthine was afraid of nothing, but the
old woman trembled and constantly re
peated: “It will end badly—you will see
—it will end badly, sure!” and to-night
she seemed more unquiet than usual.
“Knowest thou at what hour thy fa
ther will return?’ ’ she said to her daugh
ter. presently,
“Not before 11. certainly. When fa
ther dines with the major commandant
(the title Larigne had conferred upon
himself), he never returns till late," and
Berthine hung the pot over the fire and
prepared to make the soup. All at once
she ceased to stir it; she was listening to
nn indistinct noise that came down the
flue of the chimney.
"Some one is walking in the wood,”
she said; “seven or eight people at least.”
The old woman, frightened to death,
stopped her wheel and began to whim
per.
“MonDieu, Berthine!” she cried; “and
thy father is from home!”
But Berthine did not reply, for at the
moment there was a knock at the door,
and a guttural voice demanded admit
tance.
“Open or I’ll preak te tow," the same
voice shouted a little later. Slipping the
revolver into her pocket, the young wo
man crossed the room and, placing her
mouth to tire keyhole, shouted in return:
“And who are you?” “A tetachment
from tc udder side!” “Well, what do
you want?" "Sometings to eat: I haf
peon lost since morning in te woods; open
or I’ll preak te toor!”
Without waitjng for him to put his
threat into execution, slie slipped the
bolts; the door swung heavily upon its
hinges, and 6he saw in the pale, snowy
fight of the forest a group of soldiers
standing upon the step—the same, in
fact, she.Irad seen the evening before.
“This is no time’ of night to ask for
food,” she continued, in a resolute tone, ”
“besides, I am alone in the house, with
only my mother.”
“Dat" is notting,” replied the officer,
who seemed to be a good sort of a fellow,
“we shall do you no harm, but we must
haf sometings to eat; we fall mil hunger
and fatigue.”
“Very well, then,” she responded,
“enter, and I will see what I can do.”
The men appeared, as the officer had
said, to be worn out with hunger and
fatigue. They had placed their guns and
caps in the corner, and now sot about the
table watching with the eager looks of
half starved animals the preparations for
the pot-au-feu which Berthine was en
gaged in making. The old mother, every
now and that turning a frightened glance
pprm fhe invading soldiers, had resumed
her spinning, and nothing was heard in
the room but -the light whirring of the
rolling wheel and the babbling of the
water iri the .pot.
They ate voraciously, their mouths
spread to their widest extent in an effort
to swallow the more, and their round eyes
opening and shutting with every move
ment of their jaws. The noise they
made in swallowing sounded like the
gurgling of a water pipe. As they were
thirsty aa well as hungry, Berthine at
last descended to the cellar to draw them
some cider. To reach it she was obliged
to pass a low vardted chamber or cave,
used, so they said, during the revolution
as a prison or place of concealment. ’You
could only enter it by a narrow stairway
leading from .the floor of the kitchen,
closed by a heavy door.
Berthine was gone a long time to draw
the cider, and when she reappeared sho
was laughing—laughing softly to herself.
Soon the soldiers had finished their
supper and were nodding around the
table. Every now and then a head
would fall upon the boards with a re
sounding thud.
“You can stretch yourselves by the
fire, if you like,” said the forestiere,
kindly. ‘ ‘Mother and I will climb to the
upper floor.”
A moment later a key turned in the
lock overhead—there was the sound of
footsteps ox the floor, and then—silence.
"With their feet to the fire and their
headj supported upon their knapsacks,
the Prussians were soon snoring loudly.
They had dept perhaps an hour, when
suddenly there was the report of a gun
shot, another and another, loud and
near. They leaped to their feet .as the
door of tho stairs leading to the upper
floor was thrown open and Berthine ap
peared, bare footed, half clad and wild
with affright.
“It is the French/’ she ■ cried, “at
1 •ast a hundred of them! For the love
of God, go into the cellar and make no
noise; if you do, we are lost!” r
“T vill, I vffl,” the officer stammered,
bewildered and excited, ‘ 'but how can we
get down?"
She lifted the trap in the floor, disclos
ing the narrow stairs, and the six men
quickly disappeared. When the brim of
the last liat had vanished from sight,
Berthine replaced the oaken flap, as thick
as a wall and hard as steel, fastened it
with a monstrous bolt and began to
laugh again, to laugh like a maniac, as
she softly danced above the heads of her
prisoners shut up in their box of stone,
and as they had promised to be silent as
the tomb, knowing that they were per
fectly secure and well. supplied with air
through a vent in the wall guarded by a
strong iron grating, she gave herself no
further concern regarding them, but set
about replenishing the fire and the pot
of soup in readiness for her father’s re
turn.
It wa6 not long, however, before she
heard them stirring under her feet and the
sound of talking. Berthine listened; it
was clear that the Prussians were tegin-
ning to suspect the ruse and would soon
demand release. She was not mistaken,
fqc a moment later some one stumbled
up the winding stairs and began to beat
upon the trap with his fists. ‘ ‘Open te
toor; opon it, I say!” shouted the voice
of the officer, “or I’ll preak it in!”
“Preak it in, my good man,” Berthine
answered tauntingly, mimicking his
broken accent; “proak it in, by all
means!” But the effort was useless; then-
fists, the butt ends of their muskets and
all tlieir kirks apd poundings were pow
erless to release them; that door was stout
enough to have defied a catapult. Con
vinced of this at last, they again descended
and once more all was silence, broken
only by the ticking of the clock on the
mantel shelf. As the hands pointed to
the midnight hour a distant haying was
heard in tho forest and the young woman
arose and opened the door. The figures
of a man and the two enormous dogs
were approaching ncrops tho snow.
“Do not pass lief ore the vent hole,
father,” said she, as soon as he was near
enough to hear her; "there are Prussians
in the cellar. ”
“Prussians in the cellar!" Nicholas
Pichon replied astounded. “Prussians in
the cellar! What are they doing in the
cellar, child? Tell me. quick!”
“They are the same you saw yester
day," she responded. “JUcy were in
the forest ami are in tho cellar now be
cause I put them there.” and she pro
ceeds to tell him how she had frightened
them by firing off the old revolver and
then, through fear, caged them in the
unused prison hole.
“As soon as you have eaten, father.’
she continued, “you must return and
bring tbe major commandant and the
troops; he will be very happy to receive
tlx: prisoners. ”
The old man agreed, and taking his
seat at the table eagerly consumed his
soup while Berthine attended to the dogs,
and twenty minutes from the time of
their arrival they were on their way back
to Rethel, the forestiere waiting alone.
The prisoners had onee more com
menced their uproar, cursing,, shouting
and beating their guns against the walls
of the prison hole. At last they began to
fire through the grating, doubtless hoping
to attract tbe attention of some passing
detachment which might chance to lie in
the neighborhood. Berthine paid no at
tention to the noise, however, save to
caution her mother to remain in her
chamber; but a wicked anger took pos
session of her mul she would cheerfully
have murdered them, if only to keep
them quiet.
Her father had now been gone an hour
and a half. Surely he bad reached the
citv and the troops were on the way.
She pictured to herself the air of pride
with which he related the affair to the
commandant, all fire and excitement as
lie called for his sword and uniform.
She even fancied tliat she heard the
drums as they rolled through the streets,
calling the citizens to the cold and bitter
march in the snow. Surely another hour
would see them here, the prisoners taken
and the troops triumphantly returning to
the city.
But how long it seemed; how the hours
dragged, and the hands of the clock fairly
crawled around the dial! Nevertheless,
the moment for their return came at last.
Berthine got up from her seat and threw
open the door. Out upon the white car
pet of the forest a dark object was stealth-
ilv crawling towards her. She was
alarmed and called out: ‘'Father, is it
thou?"
“Yes, I,” he returned: “I am sent in
advance to see if anything has changed
since my departure.”
“No,” she responded, “all is the
same.
Pichon, placing a whistle to his Ups,
sent forth into the night a long, shrill
blast, and soon, in the mist rising beneath
the trees, Berthine saw the figures of a
band of men, the advance guard of the
arriving troops. .
“But don't pass before tbe vent hole!
Pichon shouted, as the men appeared;
and “Don’t pass before the vent hole!”
solemnly repea ten me soiaiers to maee
behind. Soon the whole troop was visi
ble. to the young woman, a hundred
strong, each man carrying in his belt 200
cartridges, and led by Lavigne himself.
Placing his men in a line around the'
house, with a liberal space before the hole
leading to the cellar, the major com
mandant valiantly entered the house to
inform himself as to the strength and at
titude of the enemy, now so quiet that it
seemed as if they had flown. Pounding
heavily upon the door above the pris
oners’ heads he called aloud: “M.
Officer—M. Prussian Officer—I wish to
speak to you.” The German did not
reply. “ ’Tis funny,” said Lavigne to
himself, “very funny,” pounding again
and receiving no response. For twenty
minutes more he continued to call upon
them—to knock and pound and summon
them to surrender, but without the slight
est sign from the enemy of either consent
or hostility.
In the meantime the soldiers cooled
their heels in the snow outside, faithfully
guarding the vent hole, slapping their
hands to keep them from freezing, and
with a childish but . constantly increasing
desire to cross before it simply because
forbidden to do it.
Suddenly one of them, bolder than the
rest, and who ran like a deer, made the
attempt. It was successful; the impris
oned Prussians seemed as if dead. Em
boldened by their comrade, another and
another followed in his steps. It had
become a game, or a race for life in
which the devil could take the hindmost.
They had lighted a tremendous fire to
keep themselves from freezing, and the
ruddy glare of the flame fell full upon
the laughing faces of those prankish
guards as they voyaged rapidly from left
to right and from right to left again. All
at once some one called out: “Matheson,
it is now your turn; come, hurry, my
boy; hurry up!”
Now, I must tell you that Matheson
was the baker of Rether, an enormously
fat man, whose inflated Rtomach, big as
an ordinary balloon, furnished unending
merriment for his frolicsome comrades, i
He hesitated and tried to draw out of the
race, but they jeered and mocked him till
he, too, started, breathless, and with
little mincing steps that shook his paunch
like jelly, across the intervening space.
The whole detachment laughed until
they cried, shouting and urging him on
with a storm of bravas and encouraging
words.
Half way across the open space a large
red flame darted from the vent hole, a
sharp detonation followed, and the big
Rether baker fell upon his nore, with a
Kill in his thigh. As no one rushed to
succor him he dragged himself on his
hands and knees until out of reach of the
balls, then quietly fainted away, more
from fright than pain of the wound, for
the ball had scarcely more than ploughed
tho flesh below the thigh bone. At the
sound of the musket shot the major com
mandant rushed from the house.
“Tinsmiths!” he roared, “tinsmiths,
come forward!”
A man, followed by two others,
stepped from the ranks and stood before
the commandant. “Take the gutters
from the house,” said he, “and bring
them here.”
A few monients later twenty metres
of water pipe lay at his feet. Then,
with a thousand precautions, a hole was
chopped in the comer of the trap door,
the end of the pipe inserted and the
other end fastened to the spout of the
pump.
“The Prussians can stand a great
deal,” cried M. Lavigne with a teaming
smile, ‘ ‘but it remains to te seen if they
can stand the drink we shall give them.
Pump, my boys, pump with a will,” and
with a wild hurrah the men obeyed.
Soon a silvery stream of water flowed
along the tubing and fell to the cellar be
low with the murmuring of a summer
cascade. Hour after hour ran by, and
still the water fell, and still the enemy
held-the ground, though every now and
then a stamping of feet and curses loud
a lid deep came from the depths below.
About 8 o'clock in the morning a voice
suddenly came from the cellar calling for
the commandant. “I visli to speak mit
him at vonce." “Do you surrender?”
shouted I-avigne, tending to the floor. “If
60, pass up your arms. ” A hand come out
of the bole and a musket fell at his feet;
another and another, until finally a voice
cried: “We haf no more, make haste
and stop te pump; we trown mit vater.”
The commandant had the pump
stopped, and the soldiers, crowding about
the trap as the bolts were withdrawn,
-watched tbe Germans Ascend, six white
heads with water soaked hair and a half
drowned stare in their pale blue eyes.
As they feared to be surprised the
Rethelites did not linger, but started for
the city, one half of the column bearing
between them the shivering prisoners,
the other half bearing Matheson ex
tended upon a mattress supported by
poles.
For the bravery and gallantry with
which M. Lavigne had captured “the
advance guard of the Prussian army,”
as Rethel (tapers- quoted it, he was dec
orated with tire cross of honor, while
Matheson received a medal. For Berth
ine nothing could te done; she was only
a woman, ami it was impossible to adorn
her as a warrior.—Translated from the
French of Guy de Maupassant for New
York Mercury.
GLUTTONS OF BYGONE DAYS.
The Honey Bee's Sting.
Naturalist Clark, of Canada, says the
tee's sting is by no means made for
stinging only, but is used in doing tbe
artistic work, capping the comb and in
fusing the formic acid, by means of
which honey receives its keeping quali
ties. The sting is really a skillfully con
trived little trowel, with which the tee
finishes off and caps the cells when they
are filled brimful of honey. This ex
plains why honey extrasted before it is
capped over does not keep well. The
formic acid has not been injected into it.
—New Y'ork Sun.
The Bible in Khyme.
A Madrid scholar. Senor Carulla, who
has been for many real's at work on a
rhymed version of the Bible, lias just
completed his task. The work contains
200,000 verses.
Some Distinguished Cans of Tramandaw
Appetite* from the Becorde.
Elizabeth Charlotte, the Duchess of Or
leans, writing under date of Dec. 5, 1718,
says: “The late king, monsieur the
dauphin, and the Due de Bexxi were
enormous eaters. I have often seen the
king eat four plates of different kinds of
soup, a whole .pheasant, a partridge, a
dish of salad, two thick dices of ham,
mutton flavored with garlic, a plateful of
pastry and finish his repast with fruit and
hard boiled eggs.” There was a good
old German from Wittemberg. where my
Lord Hamlet attended the university,
who had a fine faculty far storing away
provender. His case is well attested.
For a wager he would eat a whole sheep
or a whole pig or put out of sigh! a bushel
of cherries, stones and all. He lived
until he was about 80 years of age, a
great portion of the time supporting him
self by exhibiting the peculiarity of his
appetite, which, to sav the least, must
have been a very eccentric one. Thus,
he would chew glass, earthenware and
flint into small fragments. He had an
especial preference for caterpillars, mice
and birds, and when these were not pro
curable he would content himself with
mineral substances. Once he put down
his “maw and gulf” a pen, the ink and
the sand pounce and he would have gob
bled the inkstand, too, had he not been
restrained.
Taylor, the water poet, tells of Nicholas
Wood, of the county of Kent, in England,
who was a tolerably good trencherman.
On one occasion he got away with a
whole sheep; at another time with sev
eral rabbits; at a third with three dozen
pigeons—well grown pigeons, not squabs;
again with eighteen yards of black pud
dings, and on other occasions 60 pounds
of cherries and three pecks of damsons.
Dr. Copland, in speaking of two children
who had wonderful appetites, the young
est, 7 years old, being the worst, said:
“The quantity of food devoured by her
was astonishing. Everything that could
te laid hold of, even in its raw state, was
seized upon most greedily. Other articles,
an uncooked rabbit, half a pound of
candles and some butter, were taken at
one time. The mother stated that this
little ■ girl, who was apparently in good
health otherwise, took more food, if she
could possibly obtain it, than the rest of
her family, consisting of six beside her
self.
A trifle over a hundred years ago a
London youth ate five pounds of shoul
der of lamb and two quarts of green peas
in fifty minutes; and a Polish soldier,
who was presented at the court of Sax
ony, succeeded in one day in getting out
side of twenty pounds of beef and half a
roast calf, with the appropriate “fixings.”
AVhen George HI was king, a watch
maker's apprentice, 19 years of age, in
three-quarters of an hour devoured a leg
of pork weighing six pounds and a pro
portionate quantity of pease pudding,
washing all down with a pint of brandy,
taken in two “tots. ’ ’ The tall Nick
Davenport, the actor, is known to have
eaten a seven pound turkey at a single
sitting. Instances of depraved appetite
are numerous, and men have been known
to swallow fire, swords, spiders, flies,
toads, serpents, cotton, hair, paper, wood,
cinders, sand, earth, clay, chalk, flint,
musket balls and earthen ware. One
man could swallow billiard balls and gold
watches.
In the New York medical journals for
1822 a record is made of a man who
could swallow clasp knives with impu
nity. One day he overdid the business by
swallowing fourteen and it killed him,
which well it might. In 1870, in Eng
land. two men of Wiltshire wagered with
each other as to which could consume the
greatest quantity of food in the shortest
space of time. One of them blotted from
existence six pounds and a' half of rabbit,
a loaf of bread and two pounds of cheese
in a quarter of an hour, and he was so
pleased with the approbation he received
from the bystanders that he finished off
with a beefsteak, a pint and a half of gin
and a half pint of brandy.—Good House
keeping.
The Railway Postal Clerk.
Now the train starts. The postal clerk
has teen pulling heavy pouches aronnd
or throwing letters into the boxes for
half an hour, and if he is unused to the
work his muscles begin to feel tired.
But he must not quit or take rest, even
for a moment, because his labor has just
begun. He must brace himself up and
enter upon a desperate game of follow
my leader—the leader being a man who
has been in the service for years and has
worked himself up from an apprentice to
the high and mighty office of chief clerk
in charge of the car, whose power is for
the time as absolute as that of the czar of
all the Russias. As the train dashes
along all these clerks must continue their
work, now made 100 per cent, harder by
the swaying of the car. They must brace
themselves first one way and then
another, always keeping up that cease
less throw, throw, throw, not for one
hour or two, but for eight or ten hours,
taking on additional pouches as the train
flies through the country at a breakneck
speed, and throwing off other pouches as
the stations are passed, all the while in a
state of uncertainty as to whether the
pouch knocked out the small boy stand
ing on the station platform, or landed in
the middle of the cornfield near by.
The train does not stop at any but im
portant to . ns. and the postal clerks must
take chances on the pouch they throw off
to the rural postmaster striking the
ground anywhere within a quarter of a
mile of him. By the time the clerk has
got to the end of his run. the place being
Chicago. St. Louis, Pittsburg, Grafton,
Cleveland, as the case may te. and hav
ing teen kept in a violent motion, legs,
arms and mind, all the time, it is only
reasonable to suppose that he feels tired,
and he does.—Cincinnati Times-Star. *
An Old Cypress Tree.
The oldest tree on record in Europe is
asserted to te the cypress of Somma. in
Lombardy. Italy. This tree is believed
to have teen in existence at the time of
Julius Caesar, forty-two years before
Christ, and is therefore 1,911 years old.
It is 10C feet in height and 20 feet in
circumference at one foot from the
ground. Napoleon, when laying down
his plan for the great road over the Sim-
plom, diverged from a straight line to
avoid injuring this tree. Superior an
tiquity is claimed for the immense tree
in Calaveras county, Cal. This is sup
posed, from the number of concentric
circles in the trunk, to be 2,565 years
old.—Chicago Tribuna
CHANGELESS.
When from the woodland still end lone.
Through the long summer night,
ted Philomel's impassioned tone
Thrills with lore's deep delight;
When, steep'd in balmiest breath of June,
The earth eeems half divine.
No change know I in words or time.
Bat ring, “Wllvthoirbe mine?"
When autnmn's red and autumn's gold
Paint wood and wnid and hill;
Whan winter nights grow drear and cold.
Lorn, I am changeless stilL
Tboagh violets wither, roses fade.
Love's calendar and mine
Bark siriwner still in sun and shade,
And tffll my heart is thine!
. Another Word Needed.
The government ought to offer a re
ward far anybody who will invent a word
that will pleasantly, picturesquely, agree
ably define a happy evening among
friends. “Social” is one of the mo6t
horrible words in the language, used as a
noun. “Party” means anything or
nothing. It is absolutely nnexpreesive.
“A good time” comes in for a big drunk,
or a picnic, or a funeral, even, for there
are people who enjoy, really enjoy, fune-
■rals. “A dinner party" seems to stop
with the eating. Now if there is a time
when people are unsociable, it Is at a
Mg dinner party. If you are fond of
eating, conversation’s a nuisance, and
you can’t get up' any reasonable discus
sion that will not be broken by the
courses.
You’ve either to devote yourself to the
menu or to your neighbor. If she's
pretty, you don’t eat your dinner; if the
dinner’s good it requires a perfect self
abnegation to pay any attention to her.
A dinner party is neither one thing nor
the other. But after dinner! Well, that’s
different. “Soiree” is an abominable
word. The mm that coined it should
have been killed. Now, what can you
call a happy, merry evening? You can’t
call it anything short and nice and pleas
ant. People talk about “spending the
evening” just as if they had to put in
the time somehow, and that was all they
wanted to do. “Calling” suggests a
straightbacked chair, your hat in your
hand and the hostess in discomfort, wish
ing you'd go. And there’s only one
word in the English language that means
comfort, and peace, and happiness, and
enjoyment, and that word is “Home.”—
San Francisco Chronicle “Undertones.”
“Oil Paintings" by the Wholesale.
A Broadway auction firm which sup
plies half the fakirs and peddlers of the
country with goods offers oil paintings in
gilt frames at $13.75 per dozen. The
manufacSire of these cheap paintings has
grown to enormous dimensions during
the past ten years in this city, and there
are already three large concerns turning
them out by the wholesale. A man on
the east side of town conducts a little
business of his own, and can produce
seventy-two complete paintings in
week. He was found in the loft of
tobacco factory, engaged on an enormous
canvas on*a stretcher. This canvas was
subdivided into a number of squares, each
representing a painting. He used a series
of stencil plates to give the pictures the
outlines, and then rapidly dashed on
some finishing touches here and there
with a brush and some bright paint.
AVhen the pictures are finished they are
cut oat and mounted, and find a ready
sale among that class of salesmen who
frequent fairs anil travel from town to
' ’town with their wares. - > P -
Woman’s Work in Early Times.
Prior to the American revolution every
colonial farm house and every black
smith’s shop was a manufactory. For
everything was literally manufactured;
that is, made by hand. The blacksmith
hammered out axes, hoes, spades, plow-
shears, scythes and nails. A tailoress
went from house to house to make up
the winter clothing, and was followed by
the shoemaker. The fanner prepared
the leather from skins which had laid in
the vat for a year, and his wife made
ready the cloth. Spinning wheels buzzed
from morning tiil night. Skeins of woolen
and linen yarn hung on the walls of
every house. Seated on the loom seat,
the best woman of the family plied shut
tles and treadles, weaving blankets,
sheets, table cloths, towels, ted curtains,
window curtains, flannels and cloth for
garments. Every woman in the house
hold manufactured something. The aged
grandmother spun flax with the little
wheel; the youngest daughter carded
wool, and the oldest, if the men were
busy, hatcheled flax. It was hand work
that did it, and every hand did what it
could test do. The women, whose
‘ ‘work was never done, ’’not only carded,
spun and wove, but they milked the cows,
made butter, bread and cheese, soap and
candles, cooked the food, did the wash
ing, and in harvest raked hay, pulled
flax and dug potatoes. The neighbor
who happened in for an afternoon’s gos
sip brought her work. The mother
patched or knitted as she rested by the
fireside, or quartered apples for the
children to “string” and hang in the
morning in festoons on the sunny out
side walls. All were busy, always busy.
—Youth’s Companion.
Aims Tsdema'i Dwelling.
Mr. Alma Tadema, most versatile of
artists, has added one more world to
those he has already conquered. He has
become his own architect, and M. Tissot’s
house m St John’s wood, which was
considered a gem in its way when the
French artist lived in it has teen trans
formed inside and out into something
quite marvelous to behold. In the ex
terior are bits of nearly all the styles of
all the ages, from the classic romantic
down to the latest Nineteenth century
development of art, or eccentric fashion
and fancy.
Inside, the medley is still more be
wildering, 'but always harmonious. Mr.
Tadema was resolved that every nook
and comer of his new home should have
its picture, and each picture unlike its
fellow. One vista suggests Greece, an
other Rome, a third the gorgeous and
mysterious east. The room designed for
the special use of the artist’s wife will be
one of the prettiest interiors in London.
His own studio will also be unique in
arrangement and decoration, and his
friends are already looking forward to
the enjoyment of his hospitality amid
surroundings that will enhance, if pos
sible, its well known grace and charm.—.
London AVorld.
A Dress of Ancient Days.
From the most authentic authorities
we learn that there was but little, if any,
effort made to fit the garments to the
body 450 years before Christ, and the
chief and indispensable article of wear
was called the “chiton,” a linen bag-like
affair, made in one piece and open at the
top and bottom. It reached from the
neck to the feet, and was so wide that
the arms might be extended without dis
comfort. This particular style must have
teen all the rage, as we say nowadays,
for the richer class likewise wore the
chiton, but it was composed of silk in
stead of linen, and another similar cos
tume called the “Himation.” which was
composed of some sort of woolen stuff.—
Brooklyn Citizen.
A VERY REMARKABLE FIGHT.
The French Presiden’t Salary.
M. Grevv receives as president of the
French republic a yearly salary of $240,-
000, besides the following allowances:
$20,000 for heating and lighting, servants
and washing, $60,000 for his entertain
ments and journeys and $25,000 for the
maintenance of his game preserves.
El Shifaa (The Cure) is the title of the
only medical journal published in Egypt.
It is printed in Arabic.
Mr. w. L). Howells, in commenting on
Dickens’ Christmas stories, says that in
this later day their “pathos appears false
and strained; the humor largely horse
play; the character theatrical; the jovi
ality pumped; the psychology common
place; the sociology alone funny.”
Four Elephants Against One Man—A
Showman's Daring—Th© Hot Iron.
“AATiile traveling through the country
with Bamuin in 1881. ” said a veteran
showman, “I witnessed one of the most
remarkable fights on record. Four ele
phants against one man, and in the water,
too. In July nr August, 1881. our show
struck the pleasant little city of Ottawa.
Bis. You are, doubtless, aware tliat ele
phants are extremely fond of bathing.
For some little time,before coming to
Ottawa they had been deprived of that
pleasure. No sooner were they unload
ed from the train, however, than their
sharp little eyes caught sight of the river
and the news was trumpeted about in
elephant language from one to the other.
They were very restive all day and be
trayed great anxiety to bathe, and as soon
as the afternoon performance was over
the under keepers marched them to the
river bank. I assure you many seconds
did not elapse before the whole herd,
twenty-three in number, were splashing
and dashing in the water like a lot of
school boys. Such a strange sight natur
ally attracted the attention of the towns
people and the farmers who, with their
families, had driven in to see the show,
and I doubt very much whether the river
at Ottawa ever presented such an ani
mated appearance as on that day,
“After a while the keepers shouted
‘Mile up, ’ which in elephant phraseology
means fall in. Nineteen immediately
swam to shore, but no amount of shout
ing could induce the other four to return.
Men were sent with rocks to the bridge
and the entire circus force swarmed
along both river banks trying with stones
to turn the huge beasts in the direction of
the canvas, but all in vain. As a last re
source the chief trainer, George Arting-
stall, was sent for. The poor fellow had
teen sick in ted for over a week with
malaria, but on learning of the difficulty
immediately dressed himself and came to
the bank. Calling each elephant by
name he erdered them to ‘Mile up. ’ For
a moment it looked as though liis com
mand would be obeyed, for the elephants,
recognizing his voice, halted and seemed
to waver in their course. Albert, the
oldestand biggest, however, settled the
matter by uttering a loud snort of defi
ance, and led by him they once more
started up stream. Seeing at a glance
that he could do nothing on shore, Mr.
Artingstall made for the dressing room
tent, from which he soon emerged dressed
in tumbler’s tights, and, placing the ele
phant prod or fork between liis teeth,
boldly swam out to the elephants.
“Used as we were to strange sights we
yet almost held our breath at this daring
act. AVhen within a few yards of them
Artingstall again shouted ‘mile up,’ but
without effect. Then, seeming to lose
liis temper, he sprang upon the back of
the nearest one and commenced using
his fork for all he was worth. Pretty
soon a cry of rage came from the ani
mal, upon which the trainer jumped
from that one to another, repeating the
fork performance until, after at least ten
minutes of fierce fighting and jumping,
the elephants creed peccavi and swam
tremblingly to the shore. Once there the
keepers soon had them under sujection,
but Artingdale, who had displayed such
intrepidity and courage, sank into a dead
faint the moment he touched the shore.
AVell, I can’t exactly say, but certainly
tbe menagerie tent smelt of burnt ele
phant for at least two weeks after
wards.’’—Chicago Tribune.
The Aristocracy of Vienna.
No aristocracy of the world is so ex
clusive as that of Vienna. It seems to
have inherited the appalling loneliness
and isolation of the Hapsburgs. The
English nobility admit ordinary mortals
to their presence if their character or in
tellectual ability entitles them to a cer
tain distinction. It is so also in Ger
many and elsewhere, where a titled aris
tocracy exists. It is not so in Vienna.
Here nothing but the bluest of blue blood
entitles him in whose veins tliat precious
fluid flows to mingle with the real liaut
ton.
Official position amounts to nothing.
A foreign embassador may be the most
eminent of savants, skilled in literature,
rich, socially accomplished, but he is
destined, though he passes many years
at Vienna, never to see the interior of a
salon of an Austrian nobleman, unless
with a ticket of entrance when the family
are from home. In the eyes of this
class, to be a republican, a simple citizen
of the United States, representing the
government at Washington at the Aus
trian court, is to be an humble personage
indeed. But what would become of the
greater part of these exclusives without
tliis adventitious distinction of birth?
They would te the merest nobodies. As
an aggrieved person remarked to me:
“It is all they have.”—Vienna Cor. San
Francisco Chronicle.
Cancer a Local Disease.
Cancer is essentially a local disease and
can te cured by operation, in spite of re
currence. Operation, when it does not
cure prolongs life and diminishes the
total amount of suffering. Operations
should be repeated as often as there is
any chance of entirely removing recur
rent growths. The earlier and the more
thoroughly the operation is performed the
tetter. The disease, when it recurs, is
generally of a milder type than that of
the original growth, less painful and less
exhausting. Antiseptic surgery makes
more radical operations possible, with bet
ter ultimate results than formerly ob
tained.—Dr. Shradv in Medical Reeord.
Ifliotograplilnjf a Midnight Landscape.
The fact has been satisfactorily estab
lished by various scientific researches,
that many substances absorb luminous
rays during the day, and at night emit
these rays in such a manner as to im
press photographic plates, although they
may not te jierceptibie to the naked eye.
Artists have not only succeeded in photo
graphing the visible night phosphor
escence of Mont Blanc's summit, but
have even secured an impression of a
midnight landscape—invisible to the eye
—on the terrace of the observatory at
I'rague.—New York Sun.
Learning* TFithout Study.
The acquisition of learning without
study is like the acquisition of wealth
without labor. It is as necessary for the
mechanic to study out liis problem when
it comes io him to be studied as it iF for
him to finish liis task by his handicraft.
—Scientific American.
alienee Th«t vrmM GtmX
“It was so still in the hall, ” said Dob
bins, speaking of the concert, “that you
could have heard a pin drop.” “AVas
there a large audience?” asked Peterby.
"The house was half full.” “Is that
all? Hum! you ought to hear the silence
t here when there is a full house. Oh, it’s
something grand!”—lid Bits.
STILSON,
JEWELEB,
55 Whitehall treet, Atlanta, Ga.
New an 1 Full Lines of Watches, Diamonds, Jewelry, Silverware,
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WHITESBURGi GEORGIA,
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