Newspaper Page Text
8
fouth’S'ffpMtmettt.
ENIGMA— No. 86.
I am composed of 17 letters:
My 8,15,9,12, 8, 11, is a boy’s name.
My 3.9, 10, 15, is the name of a bird.
My 14, 2,1, 4,6, is the name of a girl.
My 1,9, 2,3, is a passage.
My 17, 11, 16, is a number.
My 5,2, 17, is the name of an animal.
My 6, 7. 15, is a drink.
My 17, 4, 13, is a metal.
My whole is what Georgia is tired of.
S. M. I).
Answer next week.
Augusta, Go., Oct., 1868.
ENIGMA—No. 87.
I am composed of 26 letters:
My 1,5, 16, 10, 8, is an animal.
My 5, 11, 2, 4,17, is a beast of prey.
My 25, 23, 19, 6, 16, is a small boat.
My 20, 8, 14, 12, 2, 10, is a kind of
fruit.
My 13, 26, 24, is an article for ladies’
ÜBC.
My 22, 14, 3, 21, is apart of the hand.
My 9,7, 15, 18, is a small but useful
animal.
My whole is the name of a company
that left Richmond County, Ga., during
the late war. N. E. B.
Answer next week.
Augusta, Ga., 1868.
ENIGMA—No. 88.
lam composed of 17 letters:
My 5,1, 10, 17, is a city in New York.
My 1, 10, 13, 7, 15, 5, is the name of
a boy.
My 1,7, 13, is a name that every true
Southerner is proud to bear.
My 12, 2,3, 7, 15, is a river in
Africa.
My 13, 7,1, 12, 7, is the capital of a,
Republic in Europe.
My 14, 12, 12. 10, 13, 10, 12, is an
island in the Gulf of Guinea.
My 1,4, 10, 12, 7, is a river in France.
My 14, 15, 14, 15, 14, 5, is a mountain
in Asia.
My 5,8, 7,1, is a city in Russia.
My 3,7, 12, 7, 8, 14,is a lake in Switz
erland.
My 5, 14, 17, is a lake in Scotland.
My, 13, 14, 12, 5,1, 17, is a city in
Ireland.
My 7,1, 12, 7, is a lake in Ireland.
My 13, 14, 5,4, is a city in England.
My whole is the name of a deceased
Prelate, whose saintly life won the ad
miration of all who knew him.
Mamie.
Answer next week.
Washington , Ga., 18GS.
ENIGMA—No. 89
1 am composed of 34 letters:
My 25, 7, 14, 17, 23, is what the sin
ner dreads.
My 28, 20, 5, is the cause of all our
sorrow.
My 11, 18, 9, 23, 19,14, 21,16, is the
seat of life. *
My 33, 32, 15, 34, is the name of a
beautiful flower.
My 3,30, 1, 13, 24, is a celebrated
citv in Arabia.
My 13, 24,11.26, was an ancient Ro
man General.
My 12, 27, 14, 29, is a mop used for
floor*.
My 31, 2, 9 , is often s£en on rivers.
My 17, 4, 10. is a ductile metal.
My 25, 24, 8,4, 22, is a strait in
North America.
My whole is a much quoted line from
one of Campbell’s poems, which the ex
perience of numbers has confirmed.
“Beatrice/’
Answer next week.
St. Joseph’s Academy, Columbus, Ga., 1808.
Answers to Last Week’s Enigmas,
Etc.— To Enigma No. £3.—“All is not
Gold that Glitters”—Alligator—Linotte
—Gold—That—Sir.
To Enigma No. 84—“ Love Thy
Neighbor as Thyself.”—Grisctte—Favor
——Killy—Helot—Hyena—Those.
To Enigma No. 85.—“ What Can’t
be Cured must be Endured”—Beech—
Terre Haute—Mustard—Duenna—Wed
—Cab.
[Prepared for the Banner of the South by Uucle Buddy.]
FAMILIAR SCIENCE.
C A R BO NIC AC ID —CONTINUED.
[Note.—ln bottom line of last week’s series for
"oxygen of the gas,” read "oxygen of the air.” —Ed.]
Carbon unites more readily with oxy
gen, Ist, When its temperature is raised;
thus, if Carbon be red hot, oxygen will
most readily unite with it; and, 2d, when
it forms part of the fluid blood. Oxygen
and Carbon readily unite in the blood
because the atoms ot (jarbon are so loose
ly attracted by the other materials of the
blood that they unite very readily with
the oxygen of the air inhaled.
Carbonic acid is not wholesome. It
is, in tact, total to human life, and, when
ever it is inhaled, acts like a narcotic
poison—producing drowsiness which some
times ends in death.
In the Island of Java is a valley about
three-quarters of a mile in circumference,
in which the carbonic acid gas rises to
eighteen feet above the surface; from this
cause the whole country is devoid of
animal and vegetable life. A dog thrown
down into it dies in fourteen seconds,,
and birds attempting to fly across the
valley drop down dead. It is called the
Poison, or Upas Valley, and is the terror
of the neighboring inhabitants. This
valley is tho crater of an extinct volcano.
You can find out if a place be infected
with carbonic acid gas, by a lighted can
dle. Thus, let alighted candle down into
a pit or well, and if the pit or well con
tains carbonic acid, the candle will be in
stantly extinguished. The rule, there
fore, is tliis: Where a candle will burn
a man can live; but what will extin
guish a candle will also destroy life. •
A miner generally lowers a lighted
candle into a mine before he descends,
because the candle will be extinguished if
the mine contains carbonic acid gas; but
if the candle be not extinguished, the
mine is safe, and the man may fearlessly
descend.
A crowded room will produce head
ache, because in it we breathe air vitiat
ed by the crowd. It is thus vitiated
because it is deprived of its due propor
tion of oxygen, and laden with carbonic
acid. Aud this effect is produced in
this way: The elements of the air in
haled are inflated in the lungs; the oxy
gen is converted in the blood into carbon
ic acid, and the carbonic acid, together
with the Nitrogen, is thrown back again
by the breath into the room. All the
nitrogen is rejected by the lungs, because
all the nitrogen of the air is always ex
pired. A crowded room is, therefore,
unwholesome, because the oxygen of the
air is absorbed by the lungs; and car
bonic acid gas (which is a noxious poison,)
is substituted for it.
The following historical circumstances
connected with “the Black Hole of Cal
cutta” are well known to some of our
readers, but, we presume, will be new
and interesting to others : “In the reign
of George 11, the Rajah (or Prince) of
Bengal—the Sur Rajah, at Doulat, a
young man of violent passions, who had
just succeded to the throne, A. D.fl7 56
—marched suddenly to Calcutta to drive
the English from the country. As the
attack was unexpected, the English were
obliged to submit, and one hundred
forty-six persons were taken prisoners.
They were driven into a place about
eighteen feet square, and fifteen or six
teen feet in height, with only two small
grated windows. One hundred and
twenty-three of the prisoners died in one
night; and of the twenty-three who sur
vived, the larger portion died of putrid
fevers after they were liberated. These
unfortunate men were thus suffocated in a
few hours from confinement in this close,
hot prison hole, because the oxygen of
the air was soon consumed by so many
lungs, and its place supplied by carbonic acid
exhaled by the hot breath, Those cap
tives died sleeping, became, Ist: The ab
sence of oxygen quickly effects the vital
functions, depresses the nervous energies
and produces a lassitude which ends in
death; and, 2d: Carbonic acid gas,
being a narcotic poison, produces drowsi
ness and death in those who inhale it.
The Jungles of Java and Hindustan
are so fatal to life, because vast quanti
ties of carbonic acid are thrown off by
decaying vegetables in these Jungles;
and as the wind cannot penetrate the
thick brush-wood to blow the pernicious
gases away, it settles there and destroys
animal life.
Persons in a crowded church feel
drowsy, because, Ist: The crowded con
gregation inhale a large portion ot the
oxygen of the air, which alone can sus
tain vitality and healthy action; and, 2u:
The air of the church is impregnated
with carbonic acid gas, which, being a
strong narcotic, produces drowsiness in
those who inhale it.
Persons who are much in the open
air enjoy the best healtii, because the air
they inhale is much more pure.
Country air is more pure then the air
of the cities, because, Ist: There are
fewer inhabitants to vitiate the air ; 2d :
There are more trees to restore the equili
brium of the vitiated air; and, 3d: The
free circulation of air keeps it pure and
wholesome —in the same*way that run
ning streams are pure and wholesome,
while stagnant waters are the contrary.
The scantiness of a country population
renders the country air more pure, be
cause the fewer the inhabitants the less
carbonic acid will be exhaled; and thus,
country people inhale pure oxygen, in
stead of air impregnated with the nar
cotic poison called carbonic acid gas.
Trees and flowers help to make country
air wholesome, because, Ist : Trees and
flowers absorb the carbonic acid gener
ated by the lungs of animals, putrid sub-
Mll3S® m ESI I©SES.
stances, and other noxious exhalations;
and, 2d: Trees and flowers restore to the
air the oxygen which man and the other
animals inhale.
The air of the cities is less wholesome
then country air, because, Ist: There are
more inhabitants to vitiate the air ; 2d :
The sewers, drains, and filth of a city
very greatly vitiate the air; 3d: The
streets and alleys prevent a free circu
lation; and, 4th : There are fewer trees
to absorb the excess of carbonic acid gas,
and restore the equilibrium.
Persons who live in close rooms and
in crowded cities are generally sickly,
because the air they breathe is not pure,
but is, in the first place, defective in
oxygen; and, in the second place, is im
pregnated with carbonic acid gas.
The carbonic acid gas of close rooms
and cities comes from the lungs of the
inhabitants, the sewers, drains, and other
places in which organic substances are
undergoing decomposition. The car
bonic acid gas of cities is consumed in
this way: Some of it is absorbed by veg
etables, while the rest is blown away by
the wind, and diffused through the whole
volume of air.
The constant diffusion of carbonic acid
does not effect the purity of the whole
air, because it is wafted from place to
place, and absorbed in its*passage by the
vegetable world.
Choke-damp is Carbonic acid gas
accumulated at the bottom of wells,
mines, and pits, which renders them
noxious, and often fatal to life.
THE MYSTERY OF AN OLD FORT.
A let-er writer, in describing Fort
Marion, one of the defences of St. <Au
gustine, Fla., gives the following story:
Fort Marion has an old, solemn, and
rather threatening warlike appearance.
The outer wall, five feet thick, of the ma
terial called coquina (kokena), found in
great abundance on the beach, near the
light house, has quite a slant or inclina
tion inward, several degrees from a
perpendicular. An inner wall, two and a
haT feet thick, standing perpendicular,
keeps in position a bank of sand some
eight or ten feet thick between the outer
and inner walls. Behind these walls
are arranged the casemates, strongly
arched overhead, and extended all around
the interior. Upon these arches and the
walls, a floor of brick, stone, and concrete
is laid, whereon the heavy guns of the
fort are placed ; very few are in position
now. Within the enclosure of the fort
below, are piles of cannon balls and quite
a number of old Spanish guns, partly
eaten by rust. In 1858, while pulling
some heavy guns in position on the Fort,
an arch gave way, making a hole some
five feet wide, disclosing a cell hitherto
unknown to any person living. In this
new and strange apartment were found
one or two gun carriages, made of ma
hogany, finely wrought. During the
excavations made by the officers, one of
them accidentally discovered the appear
ance of a doorway that had been ma
soned up. They determined to test the
reality of the suggestion, and removing
a few stones, revealed an opening into
another cell, where was found a bedstead,
on which lay the skeleton of a man
chained to a huge staple in the wall; be
side the bed stood an open mahogany
chest live feet long, two and a half feet
wide, sides of plank two inches thick,
mounted with huge iron strap hinges and
three enormous locks. No clue has yet
been found to the history of this case, or
the offence of this terribly punished
victim.
0 # —.—
The Little Sisters of the Poor.—
After years of waiting and prayer,
Almighty God has been pleased, chiefly
by the instrumentality of a convert lady
of this city, whose soul ‘glows with chari
ty, to endow Cincinnati with a colony of
Littb Sisters of the Poor The object
of this new society is to provide a refuge
for the poor, the sick, the blind, the halt,
the lame, the friendless, both men and
women, who have reached their sixtieth
year. It was commenced, near Rennes,
in Brittany, France, only twenty-eight
years ago, by a humane French Priest,
M. L. ’Abbe LePailleur, and it has al
ready one hundred and twelve houses in
France, England, Scotland, Ireland,
Switzerland, and the United States. The
Sister of the Foundress or First Super
ior-General, is the Superioress of the
institution in Cincinnati. Seven sisters
form the community here. They have
been conducted to our City by the Rev.
Dr. LeLievre, formerly a lawyer in his
native country, who gave 150,000f, of
his own patrimony to establish those
heroines of charity in France. He aided
them in their feeble beginnings in Lon
don, Manchester, Birmingham, Leeds,
Newcastle, Edinburg, Glasgow, and Wa
terford. Everywhere they have been re
ceived with acclamation by persons of
every creed ; and beds, bedsteads, bed
clothes, household utensils, and furniture,
loaves of bread, vegetables, and alms
have been sent by willing and loviDg
hearts to enable the Little Sisters to take
care of the aged poor, and to establish the
“Republic of Charity.”
The “Good Samaritan,” under the care
of the devoted Sisters of Charity, has
been doing its utmost to provide for our
sick, aged, and poor. The Sisters of St.
Fraficis have seconded their efforts faith
fully ; but here is a specialty, the tender,
compassionate, respectful care of sexa
genarians of both sexes, whose beds will
be turned, whose pillows will be softened,
whose last days will be soothed, whose
dying eyes will be directed heavenward
by those handmaids of Providence.
Ladies of Cincinnati, the three houses
of charity, the Hotels Dicu, we have named,
and the Orphan Asylum are commended
to you. Visit them, assist them, cheer
their heroic conductresses in their labor
of love. Many of you have fine houses,
equippages, costly dresses, lots of leisure,
may be idle hands, plenty of money ;
what will you answer on the great day,
when He, who made the cup of your
prosperity overflow,• will ask you why,
when He was sick, you had not visited
Him ? This reproach, we trust, you will
not deserve, or the sentence that follows
it. But take care, God is not to be tri
fled with.— Cin. Gath. Telegraph.
Well Put. —“ls the Pope a Free-
Mason ?”—This is the silly question that
we find propounded in the “Special Cor
respondence of tho Daily News.” We
reply, “No, he is not, and cannot be, no
matter what some unprincipled slanderers
may assert to the contrary.”
The origin of this very silly libel upon
the illustrious Pontiff is thus given by
the French papers, and reproduced by
the Minerve.
The Siecle, a French infidel paper,
having given circulation to the libel, ac
cording to which the Pope was received
a Free Mason, at the epoch of the French
Invasion of Italy, and when, as a young
man, he resided at Sinigaglia, is thus
refuted by M. L’Abbe Cognetti:
111. At the time of the first French
Invasion of Italy, in 1795, Pius IX was
only three years old, and it is not proba
ble that the astute Free Masons admit
babes into their ranks.
121. At the epoch of the second French
invasion, 1809, Pius IX., then seventeen
years of age, was not a resident of Sini
gaglia, as he then lived at Pazaro, with
his uncle, the Archbishop of that place.
It is thus that the “lie with a circum
stance,” always a dangerous lie, is disposed
of.
And, even were the story* true, which
it is not, what then ? St. Augustin, in
his younger days, was ensnared by the
Manicheans; nevertheless, he died in the
odor of sanctity, and by many Protest
ants, as well as by Catholics, he is still
esteemed as one of the greatest of the
Doctors of the Church ! So a man
might be entrapped by the Free Masons
in his inexperience and youth, and yet be
a good Catholic, holding all secret societies
in abhorrence in his mature years.
|We find the above in the Montreal
True 1 Jt7/?css.] %
A Pointed Thrust. —During the ses
sion of one of the Recorder’s Courts,
yesterday, a merry-faced and bright-eyed
Milesian was arraigned for disorderly
conduct. The Judge inquired, very an
grily, “if he was not ashamed to be
there?”
“ ’Pon my soul I am, yer honor.”
“You are in very disreputable com
pany.”
“I know it yer honor.’ 7
“It is shameful !’ 7
“Too true,” was the penitent rejoinder.
“If I permit you to go this time, will
you ever be caught in such company
again ?”
"Not unless your honor sends for
me I' 1 was the meek reply, in a tone so
exquisitely sarcastic, that no doubt of his
meaning was left on the minds of the
audjence.— N. O, Picayune.
Daniel Boone, the famous hunter and
pioneer of Kentucky, was born in Vir
ginia, and, from his earliest infancy, took
to the woods. In 1769, with a few
friends, and, after numerous romantic ad-
he founded Boonsboro, the first
settlement in Kentucky, now a flourish
ing town, but, at that time, a wilderness.
He was afterwards made a prisoner by
the Indians, but escaped, and, by the aid
of a small party, was able to repulse them
on several occasions, though the -wily
savages used treachery, and every art in
their power, to overcome or overreach
him. At length, in 1798, he-removed to
upper Louisiana, where he received a
grant of 2,000 acres of land for himsell,
and 800 for each one of his children and
followers. He settled with them on the
Missouri river, where he spent tho rest
of his life in hunting and trapping bears,
until September, 1822, when lie died*
aged 84.
TO and Ifarnot
“Mr. Bismuth, what are the avera?
length of horns up your way?”
Finker of his friend. “Very short, v erv
short, my dear sir. Don’t reach half li
the tumbler.”
A Paris newspaper contains the follow,
ing interesting advertisement: j fl
ther wants to find for his son a school
where he can get a healthy and manly
instruction, and where the teachers and ,
not fill the heads of the boys with hum.
bug stories about nations which died and
were buried thousands of centuries ago ”
A mother, trying to get her little
daughter of three years old to sleep one
night, said:
“Anna, why don't you try to «- 0
asleep ?”
“I am trying,” she replied.
“But you havn’t shut your eyes ”
“Well, can’t help it; urns comes unbut
toned.”
The Hartford (Jourant says there arc
more deacons in Weathersfield than an
other place in Connecticut. The other day
a well known deacon went to the steamboat
wharf to see a friend off, and as the boat
started the friend said, ‘ Good by, dea
con.;” whereupon twelve men. who stood
upon the wharf, immediately tipped their
hats, and responded, “Good-by, Sir.”
Goon Hit at Pulimt Phofaxht.—-A
few y’ears ago, at the conclusion of a ser
mon, the preacher requested some one to
pass around the hat, and “take up a col
lection.” A young man, a stranger in the
place, jumped up and commenced “circu
lating the hat” in such a way as to finish
the iob at the door, and pass out with the
proceeds. The preacher, eyeing him as
he went out, observed : “If that young
rtian runs away with that money, he’ll be
damned.” A deacon sitting by the win
dow, seeing him make off down the
street, responded: “And if he hasn’t run
away with that money, I’ll bed and”
When Kit was young, and sweet, and
fair, one day the lovely lass gazed on her
soft reflected charms, and thus addressed
the glass : “How bright thv crystal sur
face shines ! how clear my image shows!
sure Venus’ mirror never did so fair a
form disclose.” The years swept on, and
once again poor Kit, no longer young, her
form surveyed, and, to the glass, this la
mentation sung : “How ean’st thou tell
the bitter truth, that all our charms must
die? Had’st thou a heart, ’twould melt
with ruth, and teach thee bow to lie. My
withered brow thou’dst still present as
smooth and white as snow: thou’dst
light mine ..eyes at beauty,s flame, and
roses paint below. I half believe— -it
must be so! ’tisthy dull, faded ray, that
mak’st my beauty' fainter show, and
turn’st my hair so gray. Yes, yes! I’ll
have thy frame regiit, thy glass resilvered
too; and then, no doubt, poor Kitty will
her bloom of youth renew.”
Benton and Foote.— We find this in
recently published reminiscences of Ben
ton :
"When Benton had abused Foote, of
Mississippi, to the height of his terrible
invective, he advanced towards him, and
Foote drew a pistol, still on the floor of
the Senate, and presented it. Senators
rushed in. All was confusion.
“Fire, sir! Fire, sir!” cried Benton,
opening his breast.’
Foote, after peace was restored, apolr
ogized that lie drew the pistol in self-de
fence.
“Every assassin,” thundered Benton,
“makes the plea of self-defence. That’s
the assassin’s plea ! the contrivance of
a coward, and the subterfuge of a scoun
drel !”
Foote supposing, as did everbody, that
Benton always went armed, suggested
the same to account for his own weapon.
“No, sir !” cried Benton. “I scorn to
do it. I scorn it. Never carried a pis
tol in my life. Never knew anybody but
a coward to do so.”
Pew Whisperings. — Mary Ellen (anx
iously)—Betsy Jane, isn’t rav chignon
coming off? Betsy Jane
No! Can’t you move a little farther?
You are creasing my lace flounces. Mary
Ellen (moving a little) —Don’t you think
Busan Brown looks dreadful homely ?
What big feet she has, and how she wad
dles into her pew. Betsy Jane —Y as
there ev—o! there’s Charley! Unt he
a perfect Adonis ? How Ido wish he
would iook our way. Mary Ellen (smiling
sweetly)—Ah! 1 see him. He’s looking
towards us. Betsy Jane (angrily -Mb
isn’t looking at you, so you needn t ad
like a fool. The Minister's going' ,u
pray. Mary Ellen (sucking lemon dropj
—Those long prayers of lus are positive
ly awful, and 1 shan't try to keep awake
Betsy Jane (peeping through her linge>
at Charlie.) —Go to sleep inydear; !
shan’t disturb you. Mary Ellen (gaping_
I don’t exactly say I shall—but i l '
shall.