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YOL. XYII.
Twilight.
i.
I’t bn roaming
In the gloaming
Of a mellow autumn qt 6;
Twilight lingers,
While its fingers,
Countless, boundless beauties weave.
IL
Day is dying,
Beautifying
In his death the land and lea;
Clouds in splendor
Shed their tender
Soul-embduing light on me.
m.
Night’s descending,
Boftly blending
Twilight glories with its own;
Till the shadows
In the meadows
To their fullest length have grown.
IV.
And this token,
Tho’ unspoken,
Tells os that the da♦ is dead;
Stars are peeping,
As if keeping
Silent watches round its bed.
v.
Thus the glimmer,
Dim and dimmer,
From outlives must pass away;
Till the morning,
In its dawning,
Vshers in another day.
VI.
May that morning,
Wheu its dawning:
fc at last upon our eyes,
Vp Be the waking.
Be tho breaking
Of a day U'ti never dies.
—K. D. Snow.
BEHIND MINERVA’S SHIELD.
Homer Ashton one antnmn evening
listened to stories of witches and ghosts
told aTonnd him, and joined in them,
until he felt an occasional shiver creep
ing down his back. Not that he be
lieved in the supernatural, but the fire
lig)df into which he sat looking grew
pleasanter to him than the corners of the
great room, for lamps had been banished
to accord with the subject under dis
cussion. and it seemed that the shadows
flickering behind the young people
grouped about the grate of blazing coal
Were massive and weird, and that whon
one glanced at them sideways suddenly,
were was something about them like
ghostly visitors. When ho faced them,
to "be sure, they were only ordinary
was ashamed of him
seM, he jpk afraid his nerves were un
■jftady^fverf*Bo to test them. He
£.-<* lWptoee°at which he was stay
ing, an English oountry house, were
the ruins of the older part of a castle
said to have been bnilt in the time of
the Crusades. The whole castle was at
present uninhabited, but the part
which had been allowed to fall into
hopeless decay was the width of the
courtyard away from the rest of the
house. Probably it bad onoe been con
nected with it by bnildings which had
formed three sides of a hollow square,
bnt if so it had been left out in the
changes made at different times, and
now it was roofless, the walls were
crumbled, and the underground portion
was all that made any pretense to a
habitation, and offered a suitable home
to the unearthly beings who were said
to roam in it, for a dampness oovored
all the stones and the air had a deadly
chill. Bnt these facts seemed con
clusions from the nature of things
rather than the results of observation,
for Homer could not find anybody who
had explored it.
Ghosts ought really to be forgiven a
good many faults, because they are in
general so unselfish about selecting
homes nobody else wants.
That evening, as Ashton connected
the reports of the place itself with sto
ries of sights and sounds around it, he
found himself yielding So much to the
inflnence of gossip that he determined
to shake off the weakness and to try
what stuff he was made of. fje would
stand in those haunted halls and sum
mon the ghosts and see what wonld
happen. He knew well enough that it
would be nothing.
Bnt be did not tell his plan to the
others; he said merely that he was go
ing for a walk to blow away this ghostly
atmosphere by a little fresh air. No
body volunteered to accompany him.
Sight had never seemed more distaste
ful to them all. They only looked at
each other significantly as he left them,
and said:
"Another Americanism.”
There is an nnreasoning element in
human nature which assumes every in
dividuality of a foreigner to be a na
tional characteristic. Dr. Ashton,
whom the son of the house had become
acquainted with in London and brought
home with him for a visit, was to his
entertainers an epitome of America,
and it must be confessed that at the
end of a week they had come to have a
good opinion of that country.
As Homer walked on rapidly he saw
an occasional star in the sky, bnt it
seemed as if he never could get ont of
the shadow of the trees, there were so
many jf them.
He soon came to the rain, a mile
away, opened the heavy gate and began
to descend the long flight of steps lead
ing into the corridors and rooton under
ground. What conld the old place
have been need for ? Did monks come
here for prayers and penances, or were
these dungeons where captives taken in
the petty warfare of those times felt the
personal vengeanee of their captors?
He thonght of the one described in
“Ivanhoe,” into which Isaac the Jew
was thrown, damp, dark, hong with
chains and shackles, and where in the
ring of one set of fetters were two mold
ering human bones. It was no wonder
ghosts were said to baant a place like
that.
In the midet of these thoughts the
gate he had lelt open swnng to with a
chug, shotting ont earthly things be
hind him. Step by step he went down
the stone stairs into blackness to which
the night outside was twilight. Some
times he seemed to hear a sound, bnt
when he stopped to listen it was the
beating of bis heart. When he reached
the foot of the stairs he still went on;
every now and then his ontstretehed
hands struok against a wail or pillar,
for he was passing through an arohed
hall that ended in a narrow passage.
He next entered what he thought must
be a large room, for the air had an in
definable difference and the blackness
seemed that of space instead of sub
stance. As he stood there uncertain
which way to move and the very echo
of his footsteps ceased, the horror of
darkness and silence which had been
growing upon him reached its height.
He tried to utter his challenge, but his
dry lips would give forth no sound, an
abyss of night seemed to swallow him
up.
Suddenly he fancied he heard a move
ment, he thought that something like
palpable blackness flitted about him.
He turned to fly and took a few hurried
steps in the direction of the entrance.
Then he stopped. It was no ghostly
presence that arrested him, but the
iron hand of his resolution ; 'he bad
come here to do a certain thing and
was not to be oowed by a feeling which
he would be ashamed to own to himself
in the daylight. He faced about and
went forward qniokly a few steps.
"If there is any ghost let him now
appear," he called loudly.
The dreary walls answered his ory
with a dull reverberation.
With arms folded he stood a moment
—the hardest thing of all to do—await
ing results. If there had not been a
roar in his ears, if the beating of his
heart had not made even his vision un
steady, he wonld have said that he
heard snbdned laughter, or moaning, it
was impossible to tell which as the
sound rolled toward him from the hol
low sides, and that be saw something
like a whiteness in the distance, while a
sense of presence made him cold with
honor.
He had done all he had resolved to
do and was free now to get out of this
dreadful place. He hnrried toward
the entrance, urged on by the unreason
ing sense of pursuit thstoomes over one
when he turns his back upon danger.
All at onoe he lost his footing and lay
at full length on the slippery floor; the
shock, however, only jarrod and be
wildered him. As he nnt out his
hands to rise he touched something
from which he drew back instantly with
a stifled exclamation; he thought it
must be one of the reptiles likely to
be crawling in this den. But he reool
lected that it was small and hard, per
haps it was a curious stone which wonld
prove his night’s excursion if the
strangers ho was with shonld be tempt
ed to doubt it After a little groping
lie found it again; it felt like a stone
covered with slimy moisture, and pot
ting it into his pocket ho made his way
ont of the ruins as best he conld.
When he retnrned to the honse his
friend was alone waiting for him, and
sleepy, as Homer oould see, conse
quently a trifle annoyed at being kept
up so late. The guest said nothing
that night of where he had been.
In his room he took oat the stone.
It was not a pebble or a piece of the
pavement, as be had supposed, bnt an
oval of grayish lava that had once been
a brooch or part of a bracelet. As be
cleaned it with his penknife and pocket
handkerchief he saw that the work upon
it was beautiful; it was a figure of
Minerva, the very folds in her tnnio
carefully cut, and, as he saw by his
magnifying-glass, with a light tracery
of carving on her hemlet and shield.
On the opposite side, jnst under the
shield, was the word “ Violet.”
It was evidently the owner’s name,
bnt who was she ? Where did she live,
and when ? The pin, if it were a pin,
had not lain in its last hiding-place
long, he thought, it was not enough
stained by the dampness, yet he was
not sure abont that. “ Violet ” might
belong to a former generation or might
have been sleeping the sleep of the jnst
for a century. But suppose not, sup
pose she were a young lady beantifnl
as her name, wealthy and high-born?
Well, wbat then ?
Homer put ont his light and went to
bed, bnt not immediately to sleep. The
affair seemed to promise an adventure ;
as such it wonld have been interesting
to any young person. Bnt Ashton, in
addition to being barely twenty five,
had been obliged to make his way for
the last ten years ; for thongh he was
of good family, Dame Fortune had
started him in life with no more than
one of her pennies, which, however,
every time a man turns it, as in the
legend, leaves a gold-piece in his hand.
The next morning bnt ono a tall
yonng man with dark hair and eyes and
an expression amused, yet resolute,
handed in his card at Grantham hall
and asked to see its owner, Sir Gresham
Land.
“Dr. Homer Ashton,” cried Sir
Gresham, looking np from his letters
displeased at the interruption. “Who’s
he? I don’t know any such person.
Beryl,” to the servant, “what does he
look like?"
“As well, Sir Gresham, only spryer.”
“Oh, ‘spryer,’ is ho? In his head or
his heels, I wonder? Well, I suppose
I must see what the fellow wants; one
of those genteel sponges come to sock
np as many pounds as I'll give to their
denced charities,” he mattered. By
which speech it is fair to conclude that
Sir Gresham bad been sponged in this
way more than once.
But when Homer, who was admiring
the view from the drawing-room win
dow, turned and bowed as the baronet
approached, Sir Gresham perceived
nothing of the suppliant abont him and
began to donbt whether this elegant
stranger did mean to make him a few
pounds the poorer by his visit. He
came forward and requested his visitor
to be seated. Ashton spoke of the
beauty of the country and Sir Gresham
answered him, bnt at the moment curi
osity was evidently his rating passion.
“ Yon are wondering why I came,”
said Homer. “ Certainly it was not to
tell yon, what everybody knows, that
this is the finest situation about here.
But I have in my possession part of an
I ornament which, I believe, belongs to
Hiss Land.”
WASHINGTON, GA., FRIDAY, APRIL 21, 1882.
" Ton I What is it ?”
Ashton bowed and smiled also, as
he handed the other his disoovery of
the night but one before. " Does it be
long to your daughter?” he said.
But Sir Gresham was too bewildered
to answer him. ~
" That?” he cried. "C 1 heavens!
that? Where did you find it? It’s a
olew.”
“A olew to what?” cried Homer,
eagerly. He felt on the brink of dis
covering how a lady’s ornament could
come in so strange a piaoe.
Bnt Sir Gresham was too excited by
some suggestion awakened by the sight
of the stone to have an idea of trying
to satisfy any ouridsity but his own.
"Where did you find it?” he re
peated.
"Is it your daughter’s?”,returned
Homer.
" Yes, it must hi hers,” and remem
bering at last to thank the yonng man
for returning it, he stool with the stone
in his hand waiting impatiently for a
full account of its reoovory.
“Does Sir Gresham Laud suppose
that I oame here for the purpose of
telling a midnight adventure to hio ?”
thought Homer, as a look of amusement
flitted aoross his face. "If jouigrill be
so kind,” he answered, suave! r. "as to
ask Miss Laud if she will do me the
favor to identify her ornament, I shall
be most happy to tell you, and her if
she cores to know, how I oame by it.”
Sir Gresham hesitated only an in
stant. " Assuredly,” he said, and sent
for his daughter.
The yonng man’s heart beat faster at
the sound of light steps behind him.
Suppose Violet were plain and heavy
looking, yet suppose—he turned hast
ily, but not too soon for the beautiful
face that was coming toward L-im.
“ She was named for hereyee,’’ thought
Homer; and there was something else
he thought, too, that oonld no more
than this be spoken at the moment.
She greeted him with a simplicity that
charmed him; bnt when she saw the
medallion in her father's hand she cried:
“ Oh, papa, my bracelet-clasp; where
did yon get it? Have they fennd ont
the robbers ?”
Homer’s eyes opened wide at her
words.
“Bobbers?’’ ho repeated. “That’sit,
then? Perhaps 1 really did hear and
see something after all.” And after a
moment in whioh three people stood
facing eaoh other with looks of inquiry
ho began an account of his expedition
to the ruin. Ho was truthful in every
detail, yet the story sounded remark
ably well as he told It, watohing Vio
let’s face and seeing a, .driver and
grow pale in imagining the blackness
of the old cellars. If she wonld but
"love bim for the dangers he had
passed ;” he knew nothing of wars to
bo sure, except of personal struggles
with misfOf tnnc, out oj, pique toliei told
here, yet having left thoir mark upon
him in a consciousness of power to dare
and conquer adverse circumstances.
“ I’ve no donbt they carried their
booty there,” exclaimed Sir Gresham,
bis thoughts still in the ruins an infinite
distance behind the young man’s winged
fancy and supplementing the narrative
which Ashton hail jnst finished. While
Violet was listening to her father's ac
count of a daring burglary committed
the winter before while the family were
in the honse, Ashton had an opportun
ity to study her face more oritioally, or,
rather, more admiringly. It was possi
ble he did not drop all the admiration
ont of his expression as from time to
time sho turned to him to explain more
fully something that her father was
saying.
“ I’ve no doubt the villains bring
their booty miles to hide it in the ruin,”
said Sir Gresham. “This medallion
was the clasp of a heavy gold bracelet.
It was given to my daughter by a friend
and sho is much obliged to yon, I am
sure, for finding it.”
“ Indeed I am,” said Violet, coloring
a little as she spoke
“ It is I who am under obligation to
fate,” answered Homer; “ I have found
something that Miss Laud values.”
“The rest of the bracelet has been
melted down long ago,” pursued Sir
Gresham. “ That place ought to be
searched.”
“ Yes,” said Homer; “ when will yon
do it?” j
The baronet looked somowhat taken
aback at this energetic suggestion. -
“No doubt,” he answered, “and
perhaps, Dr. Ashton, yon would like to
be one of the party if I go with some of
my neighbors? I suppose it ongbt to
be done as soon as possible—within a
day or two,” he went cn, as the other
assented, “ lest they shonld take alarm
at your intrusion upon them. When
should you advise going?”
“ This moment,” cried Homer. “It’s
a wonder that we Americans have any
grass in our country,” he added, smil
ing, “we are so averse to letting it grow
under our feet.”
He met Violet's eyes as he finished,
and read in them an admiration and
interest. In another moment she had
turned away cn some trifling pretext, but,
undoubtedly, she was blushing. How
was Homer to know that she had once
declared she would marry the man who
brought her back her bracelet clasp ?
That, however, was when she was quite
sure it would never be found.
“ Hot until after luncheon, papa, will
vou?" she said. “You’d better not
take Dr. Ashton until after that.”
Several years later, when the medal
lion had led to more than the finding
of stores of plunder in the old ruins
which a gang of thieves had taken care
to make appear haunted, Homer Ash
ton, a physician of high standing, was
living in a large American city. A
schoolmate whom he had not met for
years said to him one day at dinner as
t :ey were talking of marriages and
dea’ha among their comrades:
“ By the way, Ashton, yon never told
me where you first met your wife. I
only know that it was in England.’’
Homer laughed.
“I firet met her.” he said, "behind
Minerva’s shield. Did I not, Violet?”
—Our Continent.
IMousquetaire gloves rema’n popular,
but buttoned or laced gloves are moi e
becoming to both hands and arms and
ara now preferred by ladies of taste.
THE FARM AND HOUSEHOLD.
The Farmer,
woalthy and groat
. splendor and state,
I om not, I declare it
my own lamb,
Was chiokena and ham,
•hear my own it sees, and I wear it;
f I have lawns, I have bowers,
. “ I have fruits, I have flowers,
* The lark is my morning alarmer:
80, jolly boys, now
Here’s God speed the plow.
; Long life and snooess to the farmer!
Locution of a Poultry Farm.
Poultry breeding has advanced so
rapidly from the oondftion of an ex
periment, carried on in plaoes few and
far between and in the quietest manner,
to a business known the length and
breadth of the country, and affording
employment as well as pleasure to
thousands of people, that tho question
of how it is to bo systematized is one of
the greatest importance.
The foremost consideration is natu
rally the looation of the farm. It is an
impression as widely spread as it is
groundless that the best place for ope
rations of this nature is some barren
spot too poor t,.- be used for any other
purposes. T> is a mistake of the
very wore ~ and of itself is oause
enough fox . failure of the whole un
dertaking.
The soil of the poultry farm is one of
the most important subjects, and shonld
be the first considered. It is not enough
that the laud shou'd be well drained
and have a suitable posnre to the sun,
while it is sheltered from the attaoks of
ohilly storms —it igtujt also bearable.
To utilize the manure from the large
number of hens which will naturally be
kept on such a place, it must have a
oertain amount of cultivation. Were it
possible to dispose of this fertilizing
material at its value without conveying
it a distance to a market at considerable
expense, it would be bjr far the best
plan to not attempt to mix the labors of
a farmer with those of a poultryman.
But it is rarely the case that railroad or
other facilities for selling are to be
found conveniently near a fairly low
prioed piece of arable land.
We must, then, make arrangements
for utilizing this product upon the
farm itself, in a way to supply tho
wants of onr stock as nearly as possi
ble. Naturally we shall seek for those
grains and vegetables which are at once
most easily grown and best adapted to
our wants. Com, which plays such an
important part in the list of provisions,
will ooonpy a leading piaoe, and all the
roots whioh go to make up the green
food so necessary to every flock must be
cultivated liberally.
Soil whioh must bA r:do to turn out
tho crops we have m.jJLai cannot be
of the! wretched 'SiiaMPir generally
thought good enough for tho purpose.
Land may be waste in the sense that it
is unbroken, and is simply used for
pastnrage, and yet be suitable, but an
incorrigible sand or poverty-stricken
gravel can never be the best field for
poultry farming, because the manure of
the poultry cannot be economically ap
plied to such a soil.— World.
Farm and Gurden Notes.
Ordinary stable manure contains up
ward of soventy per cent, of watßr.
Blood and refuse meat rubbed upon
the trunks of trees will keep away mice
and rabbits.
Hoof and horn shavings contain more
than twenty-five times as much nitro
gen as is contained in average stable
manure.
The milking qualities of swine are
as trar.sinisaiblo by careful breeding as
in the oase of cows, and probably will
receive more attention hereafter.
Anybody can have grapevines by
cutting them properly. Trim off a
portion of the old vine and leave a bud
at each end, Stick one end in the ground
and it will take root.
Bine grass is somewhat delicate when
very young, bnt after it gets a good
hold it usurps the soil, cleaning ont all
other grasses. It shonld not bo pas
tured the first season.
Professor Itiley thinks that immunity
from the ravages of tho Hessian fly may
be expected for several years, as tho
heat and drought of last summer killed
large numbers of them.
The dead bark from the trunks and
larger limbs of trees is beet removed
duri.y a thaw. A wash of whale oil or
soft soap applied with a brush gives a
smooth, healthy appearance.
One oow well fed and comfortably
cared for will produce quite as much
milk and batter as two that are allowed
to run at large, lie on the wet ground
and be subject to the exposure of the
weather.
An application of 100 pounds of
nitrate of soda to an acre of wheat,
where the crop looks weak, will show
its benefit in a few days, not only im
proving it in growth but largely increas
ing the yield.
It is commonly stated that super
phosphates, potash salts and other sim
ilar materials are more effective when
used together than when applied sepa
rately. Certainly complete fertilizers
are more efficient than partial fertil
izers.
The sow should be fed but little com
during the last two months of her
pregnancy. Her diet should avoid that
which is so heating and fattening.
Oats, bran, middlings and beets are u
great deal better than the everlasting
corn diet of the West.
If you begin pruning fruit and orna
mental trees and shrubbery while
young, and follow it up each year, you
can form just such a top/ as you want,
If your tree needs spreading out, cut
the young shoots off just above a bud
on the outside of a shoot; and if yon
want to train upward, leave a bud on
the upper side of the limb where you
cut it off.
Recipes.
Apple Float. —Pare and core twelve
large green apples, boil or bake in as
little water as possible and press through
a fine hair sieve when cold; sweeten to
taste, add the whites of two eggs wed
beaten, and then beat the whole to
gether until stiff. Grate nutmeg over
it. To be eaten with cream.
Cooking Turnips.— A lady writes :
My favorite method of cooking rutaba
gas is to boil them, previously sliced
quite thin, and when done drain off the
water and chop fine with a knife, sea
soning with salt, pepper, bntter and
vinegar. A friend ohops hers before
boiling, bnt I prefer my own method,
it being so much more quickly done.
Lumcn Cheese Oakes. — Take two
oances of butter, two eggs, three table
spoonfuls of moist sugar, the grated
rinds and jtioe of two lemons, and two
stale Savoy bisouits (or hard crackers
of any kind), also finely grated. Mix
all together and then simmer over the
fire for a few minub in a saucepan.
Have ready some patty pans, lined
with puff paste. Put a very small quan
tity of tho mixture into each, and bake
for fifteen or twenty minutes in rather a
quiok oven. This quantity will make
about one dozen and a half cheese
oakes.
Ilouteliold Uinta.
Hot irons should never bo used for
embroidery.
In beating bntter always take the
baok of your spoon.
A thi-’ coat of varnish applied to
straw maiti. • will make it much more
durable and ts.ee p the matting fresh and
new.
Filling a lamp when it is lighted is
something that ought never to be done.
It can be avoided by filling it in the
morning.
After Four Years.
The Philadelphia Press tells of the
affeoting way in whioh Mrs. Melville,
wife of Engineer Melville, of the lost
Jeannette, received the first letter from
her hnsband after a silence of four years.
Says the Press: Mrs. Melville, the wife
of Lieutenant G. W. Melville, who went
out as chief engineer of the Jeannette
exploring party, yesterday at her home
at fcwaron Hill, near Philadelphia, re
ceived a letter from her husband. For
four years the anxious mother and three
little girls have been awaiting a letter
from him. Yesterday morning Mand,
who is about fifteen years of age, went,
as she has thousands of times in over
three years, to the postoffio# to see if
there was a letter. Mrs. Melville was
seated at home sewing, and the other
two girls were playing with their dolls.
Suddenly one of the little ones said:
“ Why, mamma, something’s the matter
with Maud. I actually believe there’s
a letter from papa.” Maud’s feet did
not appear to touch the ground. Sho
broke through tho gate like one pur
sued by some terrible phantom. With
tears of joy streaming down her face
and choking with sobs she threw her
self att htMr mothfcy'-' Jeot, propping
the letter and crying out: “‘Oh,
mamma, at last I at last I it is from
papa! Oh, it is from papa!” The
mother toro it open and read it at a
glance, and then reroad it several times
over. All the afternoon and up to going
to bed last night the children were
doing nothing olso but reading over
papa’s letter. With tho intelligence
that it contained of tho fate of others
and the knowledge that just now he
himself with the search party is facing
similar dangers, there was nothing in
the letter to give hope of the return of
the husband and father. Written on a
single sheet of tough, heavy noto paper,
the letter read as follows:
IiiKOOTSK, Russian Siberia, January 1, 1882.
—Deau llk'itik—After many trials and many
tribulations I arrived hero yoHterday. We can
muster bnt thirteen people, ail told, out of onr
original tbirty-throe persons. lam pretty well
and will bo at home this summer or next win
ter, according as I may be instructed by the
navy department. I have telegraphed asking
to remain and searoh for De Long and others
who perished at tho mouth of tiie Lona river.
Love to children. Yours faithfully,
Geouoe W. Melto, i.e.
WISE WORDS.
The height of meanness is to exult in
its success.
Ono vice worn out makes us wiser
than fifty tutors.
Neither worth nor wisdom comes
without an effort.
Grief has been oompared to a hydra;
for every one that dies two are born.
The scientific study of man is the
most difficult of all branches of knowl
edge.
Conceit is to nature what paint is t.
beauty; it is not only needless, but
impairs what it would improve.
There is pleasure in contemplating
good; but the greatest pleasure of all
is doiug good, which comprehends the
rest.
Poverty is the only burden which
grows heavier in proportion to the num
ber of dear ones who have to help to
bear it.
Sanctified thoughts, made conseions
of, and called in, and kept in awe, and
given fuel that burns not, are a water
for Satan’s coal.
Dnty is the voice of God, and a man
is neither worthy of a good home here
or in heaven that is not willing to be
in peril for a good canse.
Work is a necessity in one way or an
other to all of ns. Overwork is of our
own making, and, like all self-imposed
burdens, is beyond onr strength.
Origin of “Excelsior.”
One of the best known of all of Long
fellow’s shorter poems is “Excelsior.”
That one word happened to catoh his
eyo one antumn eve in 1841 on a torn
piece of newspaper, and straightway
his im igiuation took fire at it. Taking
np a piece of paper, whiok happened to
bo the back of a letter received that
day from Charles Sumner, he crowded
it with verses. As first written down,
“Excelsior” differs from the perfected
and published version, but it shows a
rash and glow worthy of its author.
The story of “Evangeline” was first
uggested to Hawthorne by a friend
who wished him to found a romance on
it. Hawthorne did not quite coincide
with the idea and ho handed it, over to
Longfellow, who eaw in it alt the ele
ments of a deep and tender idyl.—
James T. Fields,
AN OLD MAN’S SILVER.
lie Recovert* It From the United States
Treasury Vaults—The JlMcture .‘of Ills
Father—Other Family Relics.
When General Sherman and his men
were marohing through South Carolina,
the people in his path, snatching up
what valuables they could find in their
haste, fled in every direction. When
ever a body of soldiers are raiding a
country more or less pillaging and
plundering take piaoe, no matter how
strict the orders or how well disciplined
the troops. In such circumstances a
soldier seems to think he has a right to
what he can get—and keep. General
Sherman’s boys proved no exception
to this rule. While on the watoh
one day the attention of an offioer
was attracted by a group iff soldiers
dispnting. Stopping to listen a mo
ment, he discovered that they were
quarreling over the division of a large
box of captured property. A glance
told him that the contents were valu
able and ought at onoe to be placed in
the care of tho government. “Here,
men, this won’t do 1 This box must be
sent to Washington at onoe.” Orders
were given to that effeot, and it was
sent to Washington and stored away in
the division of oaptnred and abandoned
property in the war department. It re
mained' there until 1868, when, with
other valuables, it was placed as a special
deposit in the vaults of the treasury de
partment. Some of the things deposited
there had no mark about them by
whioh they oould be identified, while
others were plainly marked. Congress
authorized that the former’[be sold,
but those that might byjany’possibili
ty be elaimed by the owners were care
fully preserved. It is a long time sinoe
that box of household valuables was
ruthlessly snatched by rough soldiers
from the fleeing South Carolinian, and
he is now an old man. He had for
gotten all that the box contained,
but remembered that his family
plate was there, and that'lit was all
marked, and that it must have been
placed in tho government’s care. If he
conld only get the necessary authority
to have his goods returned to him, he
knew he oould identify them. After a
good deal of hard work and worry on
his part, a private kill authorizing the
return of such pieces of silver as could
be clearly identified as his proporty
should be returned'to him, was at last
passed by Congress. It was a happy
morning for him, only a few days ago,
when he made his way to the treasury
department armed with the necessary
authority, and carrying a large, old
fashioned carpet-bag in which he in
tended to bring away the long-lost fam
ily relies. He was escorted to the vaults
by the officers of tho department, and the
articles placed before him for identifica
tion. Yes 1 there they were, all plainly
marked (with tho Iwiiy ria-ra, iirge old
fashioned silver goblets,.heavy ladles,
spoons, forks and various other articles
of silver. His eye brightened and his
hand trembled as he picked them up
and carefully examined them. Turn
ing to those who s'ood near: "Ah ! I
tell you, these were bought when
money was more plentiful than it is
now,” he said. One by one he dropped
them into the old bag of goodly pro
portions ; bnt largo as it was the sides
soon began to bulge. Several hun
dred dollars’ worth by weight was
clearly identified as his property. Bnt
what is this ? It boors tho same family
mark, bnt had been entirely forgotten.
He touched the spring and opened
the case, "Why, that is the por
trait of my father, dressed in the uni
form of a major in the British army ;
how many years since I looked upon
his face!” " Stop, old man, that must
not go with the rest; it bears your
name, I know, but Congress authorized
tho return of articles of silver only.’’
His eyes filled with tears as he reluct
antly laid tho portrait down. A further
search brought to light numerous pieces
of family jewelry, some very handsome,
and all bearing the same mark, bnt they
had to be laid aside as they did not
come within tho provisions of the act.
The vaults were again locked, and the
old carpet-bag closed. " I wouldn’t
mind the jewolry so much if I could
only take away that portrait,” were the
last words of the old man as he took
his departure.— Washington Star.
A Remarkable Surgical Operation.
The suocess of a surgical operation
performed Bometimeagoby Dr. William
8. Forbes, professor of anatomy at the
Jefferson Medical college, demonstrates
a way in which musicians may overcome
the necessity of years of constant prac
tice to destroy the rigidity whioh
naturally exists in the third or ring
finger. This normal infirmity has always
beon the great drawback to students.
To obtain a thorough knowledge of the
theory of music, flexibility and ease in
the movement of the third finger is
absolutely required. The subject was
brought to the attention of Dr. Forbes
by Professor Zeckwer, a music teacher.
The physician gave the assurance that
if a subject were procured he would
demonstrate that, with a not very pain
ful surgical operation, the finger could
be brought under control. A young
colored man in the omploy of Profes
sor Zeckwer, who hod some musical
ability, consented to subject himself to
the surgeon’s scalpel. In the ease of
the third finger, unlike its neighbors,
the upper or extensor finger is joined
with the tendons of the fingers on each
side of it by two smaller or accessory
tendons. This acts like a mar
tingale, ono holds the fingers down so
completely that nothing but constant
strain will loosen the pressure. Dr.
Forbes, when the subject was brought
to him, simply made two small openings
in the back of the left band on cacti
side of the extensor tendon, and divided
the troublesome accessories. Tho
linger was at once released, and, imme
diately after the operation, the yonng
man was able to raise tho finger and
describe an arc of a circle an inch and
a half greater than ho could before
Since the operation the finger ha: been
rapidly gaining strength, and now, ai
exercise, it does yeoman service as
•nrmmrod with its twin of the other
hand.
NO. 16.
“ I Have Sinned anil I Have [Suffered.’*
Tho first line in tho following is the refrain of
an unwritten poem recited to a friond by John
Howard Payne, author of “Home, Sweet
Home,” just before hie death in Algiers}
X have sinned and I have suffered,
Yet the world will never know
How I tried to do my dntv
In the long, the long ag s
I have sinned and I have suffered—
Human nature is so weak—
Yet my tongue cannot he tempted
To disclose, betray or speak.
I have si ed and I have suffered,
Who has not, through blood and bon* f
If there be a mortal living
Let him bravely cast the stone.
I have sinned and I have suffered
Jnst the Bame as other men,
But my heart cannot be conquered,
Nor the soul that burns within.
I have einned and I have suffered.
Mournful memories come to me,
Yet beyond the olonds of sorrow j
Rifts of sunshine I oan see.
I have sinned and I have suffered,
He can sink and he can save
All the human hearts that wander
To the cold and silent grave.
Washington Republican,
HUMOR OF THE HAT.
“I oannot aooonnt for it I” exclaimed
the defaulting bank cashier.
Wooden shoes, especially those mada
of oak, are said to produce acorn.
Bimmelbammelbummel is one of the
convenient words sometimes worked
into verse by German rhymers.
Inquirer: “ What is the most scarce
American coin?” Don’t know, sir,
dollars are quite scaroe enough.—Bos
ton Post.
“ Why does a donkey eat thistles W
asked a teaoher of one of the largest
boys in the olass. “ Because he is a
donkey, I reckon,” was the prompt re
ply-
Oscar Wilde does not admire the
American onion. It so olosely re
sembles a bulb of his dear lily that it
brings tears to his eyes.—JVeso Haven
Reg’.ster.
In youth my m&idon aim
Was to change my m&ldoc auLt
And so I made an aim
At him, and won my game,
And changed and made a name.
-The Judge.
A bald-headed professor, reproving a
youth for the exeroise of bis fists, said:
“We fight with our heads at this col
lege.” The youth reflected a moment
and then replied: “ Ah, I see, and you
have butted all your hair off.”
Glass balls and clay counterfeits have
been Bucoeßafully substituted for live
pigeons at shooting matches. SToW
why cannot somebody tapng forwwtl
equally merciful and‘ottjoaeiouii moxioa
for the pugilists and has shall mayors?
We congratulate the pigeons,, but why
shonld not this immunity be extended
also to men? —Boston Transor*"*..
J. A. P.—" Would you like to publish
in Siftings, a composition written by a
boy on a mule V We do not wish to
encourage boys to write on mules, and
therefore cannot use the manuscript.
Boys should write at home on a slate,
and when on> a mule shonld give all
their attention to steering the quadru
ped. Now, if you have anything writ
ten by a mnle on a boy there wonld
doubtless be something original in that,
and we would gladly publish it.— Texas
Siftings.
A Bear Festival.
On arriving at the scene of the cere
mony the visitor found abont thirti
persons, chiefly residents of the place,
assembled and dressed in their gala
costumes, which consisted ohiefly of
old Japanese brocaded garments. From
the commencement to the end sake
played almogt as prominent a part as the
bear himself. The guests sat around
the fireplace in the center of the host’s
hut, and an offering was first made to the
god of fire. This was done in this wise:
The Ainos, who were all seated, raised
their left hands, holding a drinking
vessel to their foreheads, while the
palm of the right was also elevated
slightly. A small stick lying across the
cup was then dipped in the sake and
the contents sprinkled on the floor to
the fire god, the stick being then waved
three or fonr times over the enp. A
formula was uttered by each person
present and the sake drank in long
draughts, the stick being meanwhile
employed in bolding np the mustache.
A similar ceremony then took place
in front of tho bear's cage. This
was followed by a dance around
the cage by the women and
girls. Offerings of drink were then
made as before to other gods, and final
ly the bear was taken ont of his cage
by three yonng men specially solected
for the purpose. The animal was killed
by pressing the throat firmly against a
large blook of wood. The body was
then cleaned and placed neatly on a
mat, food and drink being laid before
it, and ornaments of various kinds
being placed on its ears, mouth, etc.
Mnis Mere spread around the bears,
the guests took their Beats on them,
and tho drinking commenoed. This
continued for some time, until the
Ainos sank in a state of helpless intoxi
cation on their mats. The women in
another part of tho village mean time
amused thomoelves with various dances,
which Dr. Scheube describes at length.
The following day, as a rule, the de
bauch is continued. Tho body of the
bear is then cut np in suoh a maimer
that tho hide remains attached to the
head. The blood was collected in vessels
and drank by the men. The liver was out
ont and eaten raw.. Tho rest of the flesh
was distributed among the partakors of
the feast. Tho writer state* that, al
though bar ientd in a certain sense to
the sight of blood, he could not look
without horror on the sight of the
drunken crowd, with their faces and
bodies smeared with blood. The skull
of the bear, stuffed with charms, is
placed in a sacred place on the east side
of the house, and the mouth is filled
with bamboo leaves. It is then always
preserved and venerated a* a snored ob
ject.—Nature,