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NEWS AND FARMER
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The Old Edition.
It is only a plain Old Bible,
But lay it away with earo,
For my mother used to read it,
Each verse so sweot with a prayer.
Your new nue may be more perfect,
Revised by learnod of the age,
But givo mo my hallowed treasure,
With tlio self-same words on each page,
That in childhood’s hour fell so sweetly
Upon my listening oar,
Of Odd and His wondrous mercy—
Through many a weary year—
It has stood the tost of the scoffer,
And where is the heart, to-day,
That will turn to the new edition,
And banish tho old away 1
.Why, tho prayor that my mother taught me,
If a change in the words was made,
Twould jar on the rhythm of memory,
ta- An<J iitygighty would fade.'
Yon may tnfn“Tn yTmf"search for knowledge
And say that tho new is best—
For me, I can only wonder
. That man should have made this tost.
So give me my plain old Bible,
That I read when I was a child,
’Tia the one that my mother treasured,
And never was saint more mild.
I cannot turn from its verses,
To words that are cold, estranged ;
No, give mo my grand ohl Bible,
With never a lotter changed.
A SUMMER ROMANGE.
An idle boat, with idle oars, floating
idly down with the current of a calm,
smooth lake; on whose placid breast the
moonlight played at will.
Such the picture, had one been a
mere spectator to the mimic scence; hut
to the two actors, surroundings were
lost sight of—they thought only of
themselves.
Mocking the moon-rays, when they
glanced upward, they could see on the
bank above them the twinkling lights
of the villa and hear the merry voices
and gay laughter of tho group from
which they had escaped.
Arch smiles had passed between its
members as they had seen Sydney Alli
son and Bayard Hunter stroll o’fl' arm
in arm to where the little boat was
moored.
The women had almost ceased to he
jealous of Sydney, or to ask whore lay
her charm. When she exercised her
fascination men bowed before her —first
from necessity, then from choice.
But, though her victims were count
less, she was twenty-three, and Sydney
Allison still. However, this time she
had encountered (the little girl at Mrs.
Graham’s villa said) a foeman worthy of
her steel.
What she was among men, Bayard
n.nr>Tinr women. Therefore
seeing these twq brought fi„>
same roof, and thrown into'daily inter
course, rumor was rife, and speculation
awaited results with bated breath.
Meantime, the little boat floated calmly
on the quiet surface of the lake.
“Miss Allison !”
It was the first word either had
spoken in full five minutes.
She glanced up at the speaker. The
white lace thrown carelessly upon her
dark hair, out from which peered the
beautiful, pale face, lent her some of
the moon’s mystic charm ; hut meeting
the magnetic gaze of the dark, parnest
eyes bent upon her, hers fell for an in
stant; then, as though ashamed of the
momentary weakness, again shot a ques
tioning look into Mr. Hunter’s face.
‘Miss Allison,” he repeated, slowly,
“did you knowthat we were in danger ?”
“In danger?”
Her cheek grew a shade paler. She
glanced up at tlio blue vault where
sailed so majestically the Goddess of
Night—down into the dark depth of the
waters, only to sec Buna’s brilliancy re
flected thero-around, about her. ‘Not
a leaflet stirred.
“No,” he said, in answer to her look,
“not, from any of these. The moon, the
wind, the water, all are our friends to
night. We are in danger from each
other.”
Oh, how she prayed the moon might
fail to make apparent the instant flush
ing of blood to her cheek! She felt it
glow, like a warm, crimson rose, even
while she raised her little head almost
defiantly, as though to hurl a challenge
at his audaoity.
Men had made love to her in many
forms, but always as suppliants. This
man dared suppose her in equal danger
With himself! 85
“You deal in enigmas, Mr. Hunter,”
haughtily. “I am accus
i Kyo plain speech.”
sev T
„ - *“'“g
J“ e , first man w v “ n„ i/W [
lj “nkly. Wqi-“ ff°U •'Po,, i |
open still v “ ol shall iA*”'
A week tmger ’Hder *> v,! n ' tSl with
yo.. a week ra'? °* exposure *' J““
maddening 'leinations “ ul i niv skip
would ro t. /reoi and 1:11111011 tfie I'm - !
unless—” ” l ean efi nearer, liis voice
frrow sc" r .’ more Ini* of tender feel
ing, p * I l * B hand fell on hers very
light' fi' l *' witfi oarossing grace, “un
less, y^ ll0 ?’ you would let it float your
per on and guide it into the safe har
m-of your love.”
•jhe had been wooed many times, in
jjftny climes, by many men, but naught
ad ever moved her as this wooing, on
.his moonlight night in June. Yet this
man dared tell her that in another week
this all might come to pass.
Others had sworn to go from her
presence to put an end to the existence
she had rendered miserable; or had
vowed that henceforth woman’s smile
would be gall and wormwood; or
E leaded that she had shorn their man
ood of its strength, and rendered their
life a burden.
This one did none of these things.
While his strength yet was his, he saw
and.met the danger.
“A week hence,” she said to herself,
bitterly, “and the flame might singe
him. Now his wings are all uuscorched.
He does not say ‘I love you I’ ‘ln time
I might love you.’”
Was he then to win so easy a victory ?
Not so.
us go home,” she interrupted, 1
chl. a little shiver. “It is growing i
THE NEWS H! AND FARMER.
VOL. XI.
“Sydney, is this my answer ?”
“Your answer ?” with an assumption
of surprise. “I was not aware of any
question.”
“You shall not even have this excuse.
Will you he my wife ?”
His voice was stern now—stern to
harshness—and his grasp tightened on
her hand.
“You hurt me, Mr. Hunter,” she
complained, petulantly, making an ef
fort to ,withdraw her fingers.
Instantly he released her.
“I see that I have hurt you,” ho re
turned, courteously, and took up the
idle oars. “Pardon me,” he continued,
“I will not do it over again.”
A few hold strokes, and tho boat’s
keel grated on tho shore. Ten minutes
later, and tho two reappeared in their
hostess’ tastefully appointed salon.
A group of men instantly gathered
about. Miss Allison. Nove(i had her
laugh rung out mitre clearlf, her gay
sallies of wit and repartee !been more
sparkling; hut ever from time to time,
her eye roved restlessly to the open
window, where, on the parterre beyond,
shown tho red light from a man’s cigar.
It was still there, still gleaming,
when she had gone up to her own room.
She crossed to the window to pull down
the shade, hut stood a minute, • fasci
nated, motionless.
“After to-night ho will forget mo,”
she murmured, sadly. “And I—l shall
remember him forever 1”
Then, as though a sudden truth had
burst upon her, she drew down the
shade—to throw herself, with quick,
impetuous motion, prone upon the
couch, and weep tho firs': heart-tears
she had ever shed.
“The drama has ended—Miss Allison
lias-refused him 1” This was the general
verdict when, twenty-four hours later,
Bayard Hunter hade his hostess adieu,
and withdrew to town on plea of sudden
business.
Of course the news reached Sydney’s
ear.
“I have not refused him,” she said,
aloud. Not even that satisfaction is
mine,” she said to herself—“nor ever
will ho 1 It was only ‘the might have
been 1’ ”
He was not the man, she knew full well,
to plunge desperately into flirtation, or
associate his name at once with another
woman’s, or to retire later or rise earlier
or in any way disturb the even tenor of
his way. The difference between them
was only this—his heart was healing,
perhaps already healed, but he would
hear its scar to the grave, hers was a
festering sore, which hurt the more that
she had let the physician who might
work its cui;e, pass her by.
Tho Summer waned to a closo. Nature
had lent autumn its wondrous paint
box and magic brush, and mountain and
hillside were converted thereby into
glorious beauty. Then came King
Frost, first to heighten by his tohch,
then to kill, followed l>y Winter’s lag
ging footsteps, mercifully bearing the
exquisite white shroud of snow to cover
up all signs of de- r istatiomand deeav.
Th o season in tho gay world at
its height. Occasionally, murmurs
among tho debutantes for its honors
arose at tho fact that, though Miss Alli
son’s fourth winter, her former success
paled iu its most effulgent light.
She and Bayard nunter constantly
met. She almost wished he might avoid
her, hut at their first chance encounter
he had approached with outstretched
hand.
“How charmingly you arc looking,
Miss Allison,” he had said.
And all in vain she had watched for a
tremor in his tone, or a shadow of em
barrassment in his manner.
“Only a week between him and ship
wreck 1” she thought, bitterly. “All,
1m lias sailed so far from the fatal rock,
that doubtless he would now laugh at
its supposed danger; and I—l was weak
and vain enough to think ho stood upon
the precipice’s brink 1”
The new year liad come, and ono
evening Sydney stood alone _in her
father’s drawing-room, looking” out at
the fast gathering darkness, when
through its sombre shade she saw a
figure pass and mount the steps.
’ “A visitor 1” she uttered, wearily ;
then waited tho inevitable announce
ment she knew must follow.
But spite of her every effort, she
started when the servant throwing open
the door, uttered Mr. Hunter’s name.
Oh, how glad she was that the rooms
were not yet lighted as she went forward
to receive him 1
“May I welcome you in darkness?”
she questioned.
•u will,” he answered. “I have
'' tijjstay. lam come
Xjiiii . j vnll
flfo gOIUgWoHraL !
''Yes; I sail on Saturday. I hesitated
about calling, but my desire to see you
led me to believe you would pardon my
audacity in supposing my going a ques
tion of enough moment to make it
worthy a special call.”
“My friends are always welcome, Mr.
Hunter. I did not suppose it necessary
you should hear that repeated now.”
“Nor is it. It was only morbid fancy
on my part which induced me to ques
tion it. I shall come back, I trust, with
my mind clearer. At least I shall be
some years older. When I return I
presume I shall look for Miss Allison
in vain, until I find her in some matron,
equally charming. I cannot imagine her
quite staid and portly.”
So he could speak thus lightly of her
becoming the wife of another mnn ?
And he was going away; she might
never again hear his voice nor seo his
face. It was too cruel 1
He and fate were too strong for her.
The tears gathered in the gray eyes
but the darkness hid them.
Ho rattled on—she had no need to
speak. Then he rose to go.
“Good-by, Miss Allison!”—he took
her hands in both his—“good-by ? God
bless you!” •
Was it her fancy that just at the last,
his voice trembled?
Ho crossed the room ; ho had gained
| the door. Another instant, lie would
! be gone—another instant, it might be too
late.
1 “Bayard 1” she said, softly.
LOUISVILLE, GA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 25, 1881.
Two strides It seemed, brought him
hack to lfer.
“You called me ? For what ? To make
my going harder?'’
“Oh, is it hard ? In mercy toll me, tor
my own heart is breaking!”
“Your heart breaking! Sydney,
Sydney 1 what does this mean ?”
But the sound of her sobs was his
only answer.
“Child,” he continued, “can it be that
I have judged you wrongly? Look up,
my darling! Is it your" wish that I
should stay ?”
Then she found her voice.
“I thought you did not love mo
enough,” she murmured. “But stay,
and I will try to make you- love me
more; or, if you must go, take me with
you.”
June, had given place to January, and
warmth to cold, hut whore was coldness
now was warmth, and the Winter moon
was happier t lion the early June orescent.
—for in Sydney Allison’s heart was the
song of birds and the fragrance of
flowers, mingling with the words which
stole softly into her ear while nestling
in her lover’s arm—tho words. “My love
—my wife.”
Concerning Swimming.
Many good swimmers are of opinion
that nobody need he drowned who does
not lose his head when he falls into deep
water. If ho cannot swim ho can float,
it is maintained or tread water. Against
this theory may be set the experience of
most men, that they can neither float
nor tread water till they have learned how
to swim. Both operations, both floating
and treading,-are natural and easy. But
both require precisely ttiat calmness and
balance of mind and body which in the
water aro only possible to people who
can trust their- own powers. A swimmer
leaves his body to the laws of nature,
and presently his face and liis toes are
above the surface. But a man who can
not swim, as soon as he is out of his
depth, thrusts up his arms—to clntch at
lie knows not what. Dowu goes his
head and by the time he has reached
the surface again he has lost all nerve
and forgotten all that he over heard
about tlie easiness of floating. We
doubt, whether Nelson, who “never saw
Fear,” would have retained his calmness
if, being unable to swim, ho had been
thrown into deep water. That most
men and women become idiotic with
terror in these circumstances is demon
strated by their efforts to clutch and
drown any one who comes to their
assistance. The novelty of this now
implacable power, tlio water which is
strangling them, drives all sense out of
the heads of non-swimmers.
Trelawny and Shelley had been dis
cussing these things, and Trelawny had
expressed the belief, common to good
swimmers, that all men can swim by
gilt of Eature. Shelley never shrank
frpm an experiment in moi-alff. chemis
try or anything elso, whoiiofe tho fre
quent explosions that varied his career.
M at oneo undressed and jumped into
a deep place, Sinking instantly to the
bottom. There his slim body lay, still
and glistening, and there‘the poet
would have anticipated his fate if Tro
lawny had not dived in and dragged him
to shore. If ever this experiment is to
have a fair trial, it should ho by immerg
ing a very young child in water. Some
people hold that lie would swim as
naturally as a puppy. But the maternal
instinct, always unscientific, has hitherto
stood in the way of this interesting
experiment. In the present state of
opinion on tho subject it will ho well for
people to learn swimming of a compe
tent teacher, either in a swimming hath,
or in sea nr river, before trying to rival
Captain Webb by the mere light of
nature. Every one who neglects to
learn to swim should remember that he
is endangering the lives of others, as
well as his own. For it is seldom that
a man is in danger of drowning that ono
of our countrymen is not found to peril
his own life in the endeavor to rescue
his neighbor. —London News.
His bast Tussle Willi a Bear.
The facts about tlio killing of Denni
son, an old and famous hunter and trap
per, by a bear in Carlow Township, says
a Belleville (Ontario) letter, aro as fol
lows : Having set a trap for a bear, Den
nison, accompanied by a little boy, went
to examine it._ The bear had been
caught but had broken the chain at
tached to the trap, and he came upon
them suddenly and unexpectedly. The
old hunter tripped and fell over a log.
The bear immediately seized him, and
a life and death struggle began. Den
nison shouted to the boy to run to the
canoe and save himself, which he did,
and paddled to the nearest settlement,
nine miles away. Some of the settlers
sasw.'v ton^>
n"r!* Valid terribly mutilate... ...
arms, legs and lames were broken. They
captured and killed the bear, and bore
the body of the old trapper and the car
cass of tlio bear together to their settle
ment.
No Work, No Dinner.
Occasionally—yes, very often—a wo
man is more than a ma’cli for a man.
A farmer living on the outskirts of Now
Haven was in a hurry to get his farm
work along, and went out into the field
with his boys and hired man, entirely
overlooking the fact that the last stick
of wood in the woodpile had been
burned to get the breakfast. Raging
hungry the force came in at noon. Tho
good wife had the table set with all the
taste of which she was mistress, and it
> really looked inviting, but there was no
dinner upon it. “Sarah, where’s the
dinner?” inquired the farmer somewhat
anxiously. “I don’t know whether it is
dono or not. There was no wood for a
fire, so I hung it in the warmest placo I
could find. It’s on the ladder at the
south side of tho house.” The whole
force were detailed at chopping wood that
afternoon.-*jVeto Haven Register .
Bright little girl—“ The robbers can’t
steal my mamma’s diamond earrings,
’cause papa’s hid them.” Vistor—
“Where has he hid them ?” Little girl
—“Why, I heard him tell mamma fie
had put them up the spout, and he
guessed they would stay the re. — Meri
den Recorder.
Hie Sentinel.
Just after the Franco-Urns-an war
the Adjutant-Major of a certain corps
(Vinfanterie, in ordqr to test a now
sentry, who had been placed upon a
responsible post, approached, and affect
ing to have forgotten the word, at
length, by means of threats, prevailed
on the ignorant soldier to allow him to
pass without giving the word. This he
immediately reported, the result being
that tho poor fellow was sentenced to
he shot, this decision fortunately he
commuted to banishment o Algeria by
influeneo brought to hear from high
quarters. This Adjutant-Major at length
met with a well-merited rebuff as the
following narrative—the dialogue of
which wo. give in English—shows.
Finding a newly joined maF.'xjdaoed on
a similar duty, he determined in repeat
his former experiment. Fortunately,
however, the sentry liad !-Jv been
warned by his comrades, § £as re*
solved not to he r.utwil At. the
night wore on ho observe ! the officer
approaching alone, lantern in hand, and
at once challenged : “Who,goes there?”
“Officer of the guard!” at once came
the response. “Approach to the word,
officer of tho guard,” continued the
sentry. The officer, approaching, said :
“I have forgotten tho word, and you
must let me finish my round without
it.” But, forewarned, tic only reply
made by the sentry was : “The word !
Stand hack, or T fire!” “I have for
gotten the word, I tell you,” persisted
the officer. “Can’t pass without the
word,” was the only answer made hv
the sentry, as he kept him at bayonet’s
point. “You know me perfectly,” in
sisted tlio officer, in a tone of chagrin,
“I am your officer—your Adjutant.” “J
don’t know you. Keep hack, or I fire,”
was the only reply viTfiohsafod him.
“You dare not fire on your superior;
and as it is, I will have you severely
punished for thus detaining me from my
duty.” So saying, tho officer seized
hold of the bayonet, and endeavored to
force his wav past. The sentry, once
again shouting: “Stand hack!” drew
away his bayonet and mado as if to
charge the officer. Stepping hack, the
officer drew his sword and came on
again, but was instantly disarmed by
the sentry. Seizing hold of the muzzle
of tlio rifle, lie next endeavored to wrest
it from tho sentry’s grasp. The sentry,
being now to tlio corps, and knowing
perfectly who his opponent was, re
frained from firing, not knowing what
tho consequence might lie of firing on
his superior, even though the pass ’ had
been refused. In tho struggle, how
ever, the rifle went off, and the bullet
whizzed past tho officer’s ear, carrying
with it a piece of his head-dress. Half
stunned, and utterly confused by this
unexpected turn of affairs, the officer
lost his presence of miml, and actually
took to his heels, and without reflecting
on the probable consequence of liis act
ho reported tho faetyijLhis being tired
on by the sentry, wnoAvas immediately
marched oft' to the guard-room a pris
oner. Next learning a 'court martial
was convened, and having been charged
with firing on his superior, was' asked
what defense ho had to make. In a few
simple words he explained that he had
been placed on duty at a certain spot,
with strict orders not to allow any one
to pass without giving tho countersign
that an officer, whom he now recognized
to ho the Adjutant had endeavored to
pass without giving the word, and on
being prevented had seized his rifle,
which had gonooffhy accident. The Adju
tant-Major, on being interrogated, could
not hut admit the truth of this state
ment, and the Colonel, a severe but just
disciplinarian, amid tlio cheers of those
present, gave judgment as follows:
“The Adjutant will remain in his quar
ters during the next eight days, having
unnecessarily endeavored to cause a
private to perform a breach of duty. Tho
name of Private D will he entered
on the orderes dujottr, and remain there
during tho same period.” This was
equivalent to eight days’ imprisonment
for the officer and to tho highest praise
given to privates, the entry in the orders
dn jour being read to the assembled
regiment at each morning parade as fol
lows : “Monsieur le Colonel compli
ments Private I) on tlie zealous
performance of duty under the most
trying circumstances.” This public re
buke to tlio officer liad a salutary effect.
However, to his credit ho it said, he
never attempted in any way to molest
the sentry for his share iu tho affair. —
Chamber’s Journal.
Why Prairies arc Treeless.
Mr. Thomas Meehan believes that we
have nearly reoe’. ' *he solution, of the
I trees from the pmnes. , q
the prairie regions. It is not in condi
tions of soil, for the prairie soil is the
most favorable to the germination of
seeds, of trees as well as of other plants,
and artificial plantations aro remarkably
successful wherever they are made.
The real cause is probably to bo found
in tho annual fires which have swept
over the prairies from time immemorial,
killing tho young trees before they can
grow largo enough to resist the heat.
The seeds of the annual plants of the
prairie vegetation, maturing every year,
are shed and find' protection before the
fires come; tho young trees, on the
Other hand, bear no Seed, and can leave
no resource for a succession after they
are burned. This theory is supported
by the fact that an abundant growth of
trees has set in wherever the fires have
been stopped. The fires were made by
the aborigines for centuries before tho
white men came, possibly for the ex
press purpose, Mr. Meehan suggests, of
preventing the growth of trees and pre
serving the buffalo pastures. The ques
tion remains how the prairies first came
to be naked. They probably formed
tho bottoms of the lakes and marshes
that wore left aftor the rest of tho gla
ciers, and continued wet aftor tho high
lands were covered with trees. Man
followed the glaciers so closely that lie
anticipated tho trees on these spots, and
having learned already in southern lati
tudes the value of burnings, began them
before the trees gained a foothold.—
Popular Science.
“(RANKS.’’
A (imp!or on Some of thu Crnzv People who
liifoM the National Capital.
A Washington letter to the New York
Herald says:
The records show that during the four
years of President Hayes’ term there
wove thirteen persons arrested for hang
ing about the Executive Mansion, eleven
of whom wore sent to the asylum.
Among the number were two women—
one a very wealthy young lady from In
diana and another an older woman, both
of whom were under the hallucination
that President Hayes had sent after them
to marry them. The former, who ex
hibited no signs of mental derangement,
actually got into the President’s room
and surprised him very considerably by
telling him that she had received liis
letter asking her to come on and he tlie
mistress of the White House; that she
had always been anxious to he known
as “the first lailtv in the laiu'i,” and that
the sooner the legal part of tlio cere
mony was performed the better she
would like it. The President bade her
take a seat and wait till ho returned.
Stepping outside he informed ono of
the officers, who begged her to go into
ono of the lower rooms for the reason
that marriages were not performed in
tlie private offices in the Mansion. She
was taken to police headquarters. Sena
tors Yoorhees and McDonald, of Indi
ana, vouched for her respectability, and
an officer was sent to her home in Indi
ana, the lady paying all the expenses of
the trip. The number given above is
only that of those arrested. Numerous
other “cranks” called from time to time
but were simply sent away, being con
sidered harmless. It is a matter of
record that the most, of those who called
while President Hayes was there hailed
from Ohio. The most of them walked
to the city.
Dr. Tachmintis, “the long-haired
Greek,” is a strange character. He
came to this country some time in 1870
and could not then speak a word of Eng
lish, hut used French fluently. His ap
pearance was peculiar and striking.—
Short, stout, dark featured, bearded and
long-liaired, he strode about New York
with great pomposity, carrying a heavy
cane with a finely carved ivory skull on
the top of it. He said that he was a
martyr to European tyranny and that
he had been hunted by the minions of
every tyrant whose territories lie entered
because of the uncompromising republi
canism of his opinions. Austria and
Franco had been particn’arly inhospi
table to him. He put up at a, hotel in
tlio Bowery on liis ai rival, hut was
ejected after a while for failure to pay
his hoard. ITe waited upon Mayor
Hall, demanded a position as physician
in ono of tlie public hospitals, and
stamped and raged at a great rate when
he found there was no place for him.
“It is the duty,” he said, “of a Bcpnb
lic like this to provide places for the
victims of the monarehs of Europe. It
should lie the refuge of the revolutionists
of the world.” His disgust grew upon
him. About this time ho applied to
Horace Greeley for aid. It was wonder
ful how they all found tlieir way to him
and how few were turned away empty i
handed. Tachmintis was not. On be
ing ejected from his lodgings the
Greek doctor took an original
course for “ making a public
protest against this unheard of out
rage upon a gentleman and a revo
lutionist.” He gathered liis effects to
gether, put them on a handcart, which
was propelled by a small hoy, and
marched in front of tlie old Tribune.
office. There ho called a halt, and tak
ing a bundle of swords, canes and um
brellas raider his arm he ordered tlio
hoy to take one of his valises on his
shoulder. “Mistare Greeley!” he
shouted, and strode into the counting
room, behind the counter and tho weil
lcncwu narrow staircase leading to the
gray coated philosopher’s room. The
small hoy followed witli tlio valise. Un
fortunately one of the clerks stopped
him, and, judging him to ho a lunatic,
ejected him. He delivered an address
in French outside on the tyranry of
“Pliotelier dans le Bowery,” and was on
the point of being arrested when a good
natured journalist, the office of whose
paper was hard by and who is now in the
State Department at Washington, in
vited tho bewildered Greek to come in
with his things. “I came here,” said
the Doctor, in disgust, “to find the re
public of Plato ; I have found a repub
lic of money changers.” Eventually he
tired out liis new found friends with liis
diatribes on American society and liis
continued need of snr.ll loans. He
drank hut little, talked much about
Socrates,’Aristotle and Diogenes. He
complained that people were fonder of
giving him advice .than helping" him,
hut he managed to extract some money
from tho Greek merchants of Now York.
They in turn got tired of him.
When last heard of in that city he was
sharingan attic in the Fourth ward with a
poor Irish family. The head of tho fam
ily Tachminlis declared to be a philos
opher, and a gentleman who listened to
the doctor’s disquisitions on the repub
lic of Plato with profound interest. How
much benefit the honest Irish laborer
derived from his lodger’s lucubrations
may be imagined, as they were convoyed
in French, delivered at race-horse speed.
Ho turned up in Washington in 1870,
and has beon a character and a mystery
there ever since, haunting public places
and picking up a living, it is said, by
his profession. At present he urges
vigorous measures against the Pope, but
is looked upon as harmless.
“Colonel” Pincliover, another of tho
“cranks,” is greatly different from tho
Greek in several particulars. In the
first placo, ho hak maintained himself
year in and year out, without a cent of
expense to anybody but himself, and
secondly, his gnileless heart entertained
enmity for one being only, and that was
the late “Tom” Scott, whom he iden
tified with the Pennsylvania Railroad
as tho power behind the throno that de
feated his bill for an appropriation; All
tho rest of mankind wore as innocent as
himself. Scrupulously neat in his per
son, his clothes wore almost threadbare.
He lodged in some obscure house not
far from the Post Office and paid his
“shot” everywhere out of a conjectured
meager income of some kind. He never
I was known to ask tho loan of a nickel.
Every morning regularly lie shouldered
a long tin cylinder full of maps, and,
emerging from liis humble lodgings,
passed out into tlie broad thoroughfare
of “the avenue” and joined tlie great
throng which moved up and into the
Capitol. Hero he was generally con
tent, like little Miss Elite, to he a
looker-ou. His shv character was gen
erally unequal to the effort of lobbying
work, and it was seldom that he ven
tured to open his. tin cannon and dis
charge the contents at a Congressman.
The wags of the Capitol, however, would
introduce him to bogus lawmakers or
men of pretended “’flnenee” with the
Appropriations Committee and get him
to describe his grand plan for irrigating
the alkali deserts of Arizona. The
tin cylinder would he then uncapped
and the maps displayed, and the im
mensity of tho enterprise described
with ail tho gusto that the Colonel’s
bashful manner and iudistinet speech
could impart. With the fall of the
Speaker’s gavel each afternoon lie
shouldered liis tin box again, marched
down tlie western slope of Capitol Hill
and melted away into the city. Those
who profess to know him say that the
shaken intellect was once bright and
keen, and that tlie meaningless diagrams
are the cobwebs of a scheme of genuine
merit, of which he was robbed by some
rich Western corporation that availed
itself of his genius and overturned his
reason by refusing to reward him.
Whimsical Fashions.
When tho French nation reached its
height of folly and wickedness, just
before flic revolution broke out and
flooded tlie land with misery and blood
shed, all who desired to lie considered
connected with tho aristocracy carried
about with them at least one pantiii.
These were small wooden dolls which,
by pulling a string, suddenly jerked out
arms and legs, exactly like- those which
may ho. seen adorning tho hats of
“swells” on a Derby day. The rage for
them was immense. Nollies, gentlemen,
and even g nve ecclesiastics Were to he
seen carrying them about and playing
with them. A somewhat similar rage
for comfits existed in the reign of
Henry JIT., of Franco. When tlie body
of the Due do Guise was found after the
battle of Blois he had his comfit-box in
his hand. In 158(5 the ladies carried
hand-mirrors attached to their chate-
Inins, and, like Narcissus, were perpetu
ally admiring their own charms. This
excited the deepest indignation of Jean
des Cannes, a stern, old moralist of the
time, and he emphatically menaced them
with the extremest penalties of the other
world. Who would have believed that
so late as 1751 tho dress of a dandy
should have consisted of a Mack velvet,
coat, a green and silver waistcoat, yel
low velvet breeches, and Flue stockings.
A satirical writer of about the same per
iod gives a biting sketch of one of his
contemporaries : “A coat of light green,
with sleeyes too small for the arms, and
buttons too big for the slooves; a pair
of Manchester fine stuff-breeches, with
out any money in the pockets ; clouded
silk stockings, hut no legs; a club of
hair behind larger than the lu.td that
carries it; a hat of tlie size of a sixpence
on a block not worth a farthing.” No
doubt tlio same gentleman could paint a
picture of the dress of our own time
which would appear as ridiculous to the
gentleman with the green coat as his
own does to us.— Chamber’s Journal.
Honey Dew in Georgia.
Mr. John Kee, of Talbot conntv, is
responsible for the following: ‘Tt was
early Sunday morning. Mv daughter
was engaged in sweeping off the front
porch, when her attention was attracted
by the plaintive cries of young chickens
and the distressed clucking of a hen.
The sound came from a pile of leaves
under some poplar trees in the yard,
and, hurrying to the spot, she found
the little chicks all stuck up with leaves,
rolling about struggling to free them
selves, and two of the little sufferers
were stuck together. She picked these'
two up, and, coming to the house, called
me. On examination wo found thorn
covered with a sticky substance, which
seemed to have come off the. leaves. I
went out into the yard, and found it on
all tho leaves, and, tasting, was sur
prised to find it honey. Looking around,
I could see it glistening in the sunshine
like diamonds on every leaflet, and on
the porch for two or three feet were
splotches of it. Several neighbors
dropped in during tho day whom I told
of the honey shower, supposing it had
been general, but they were incredulous
until shown evidences of it. In the
evening of the same day I noticed a mist
between me and the sun, and a closer
examination disclosed tho fact that we
were having a repetition of the phenom
enon, which was witnessed by a dozen
people. While it did not run off the
house either morning or evening, it cov
ered the leaves of tho trees and shrubs,
and was, without doubt, honey dew,
and that, too, from a cloudless sky.”—
Columbus ((In.) Times.
Elevated Railroads.
Elevated railroads are now entitled to
rank among American institutions, and
in the future will ; all for a large con
sumption cf iron. There are, according
to tho Iron Age, thr. e schemes of this
character under discussion in St. Louis,
and tho only question is which shall be
adopted. Philadelphia is making good
progress in following the example of
New York. Brooklyn encounters an ob
stacle, partly arising from the configu
ration of the surface, which favors the
construction of tunnels, but the city is
in desporate need of some form of rapid
transportation. Boston hesitatos ap
parently on account of objections to
architectural disfigurement. But ele
vated railroads in all our largo cities is
only a question of time, for whilo indi
vidual pieces of property may bo in
jured by their propinquity, millions are
added to the aggregate assessable value,
and their convenience is beyond calcu
lation.
The latest phase in New York is the
employment of elevated roads for the
transportation of freight. By no other
method yet contrived can the jam of
vehicles on our water front be relioved.
—Scientific American.
NEWS AND FARMER
LOUISVILLE JEITEBSONCO..GA.
H. J. BOYD, Editor and Proprietor.
SUBSCRIPTION:
81.50 I‘l U \|:All, six Mmitli- 7a Cents.
RATES OF ADVERTISING :
One Square of ono inch $1 for tho first time
and 50 Cents tho second.
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ITEMS OF INTEREST.
The term “jolly” was ill common use
seventy years ago. It then meant lazy
1 and overfed.
Bag picking by children under six
teen years of age is now a misdemeanor
, in New York.
Silk first came from China, and the
Chinese still have many important
secrets connected with it unknown to
Europeans.
The census lias shown no other fact
so remarkable as that the production of
grains in this country has increased 100
per cent, during the past ten years.
A Philadelphia scientist was given an
honorary degree by a certain college,
and was at first much pleased, hut since
looking over the list of others who liad
received the same degree from the, same
college, he is inclined to sue the insti
tution for libel.— /’hilailelphia News.
At Baveiix,iuNormal dv, if any of the
family is absent when theTw< lfth-night
cake is cut, his or her share is carefully
laid asiilii. If the absentee remains well,
it is believed the cake continues fresh ;
if ill, it brains to lie moist; if lieorshe
dies the cake spoils.
In Devon, England, as late as 1855, it
was the practice to carry children who
were Buffering from the whooping
eougli, fasting, into three parishes on a
Sunday morning. Asa cure for sore
throat, the eighth psalm was read seven
times for throe successive days over the
patient.
A writer in a monthly says: “Of the
worst foes that women have had to en
counter wine stands at the head.” The
writer is right. It first goes to the head,
and then stands there for several hours,
and the owner of the head gets up next
morning feeling as if lie had exchanged
heads with a giant when lie left the ban
quet hall the night, before. So we’ve
been told. — Norris/oirn Herald.
Dr. Paterson writes from the Bridge
of Allan, Scotland: “J always keep a
number of toads in my orchid houses
for the purpose of destroying vermin.
The other morning, while watching two
males, I was highly amused to see them
have a regular set-to tight. They went
at each other in a regular scientific
manner, sparring and boxing with their
t'orepaws, and hutting with their heads.
After awhile they seemed to get tired,
coolly sat down, and viewed each other
with great complacency. From my
earliest days I have been in the habit, of
watching the ways of toads, and nevor
saw them fight before.”
In the neighborhood of Turakina,
New Zealand, an army of caterpillars
several hundreds of thousands strong
was marching across the railway line,
bound for a now field of oats, when tho
train rumbled along. Suddenly it came
to a dead stop. On examination it was
found that the wheels of the engine had
become so greasy that, they kept on
revolving without advancing—they
could not grip the rails. The guard and
the engine driver procured sand and
strewed it on the rails, and (the train
made a fresh start, hut it was found that
during the stoppage thousands of oater
piUavu find crawled all over the engine,
and all over the i-a 'nrre inside and
out.
Ti i! i; i r.ij: toy pistols.
llow the I nc ol Them Hun (’nilNCll Niuiier
oil* Death* IVo in l.ocliiinv.
The fact that six deaths occurred in
Baltimore within one week from lock
jaw, produced in every instance by
wounds inflicted with the toy pistol, so
commonly used of late by boys and
girls, indicates that a pressing necessity
exists for tlio adoption of measures
looking to the suppression of the dan
gerous practice. In each case the wounds
when first inflicted tvero thought to be
of a trivial character, and in several
instances had been entirely forgotten
until the victim was attacked by symp
toms of lockjaw, which never failed to
prove fatal. The pistols which have
caused all this suffering and affliction
are manufactured as toys, and avo in
tended to £iiap paper caps with. Owing
to their construction, however, they can
be used as bona tide weapons, anil it has
frequently been the case that the chil
dren loaded them with ball cartridges.
When the load is discharged the weapon
explodes nine times out of ten, and the
scattering pieces of iron wound the
hand of the person holding the weapon
with more or less severity. It is from
these wounds that lockjaw has super
vened in the cases referred to, and it is
well known .that throughout the city
there are several other boys who were
injured in the same way, who at any
time are liable to be seized with lockjaw.
The Bridge of Sighs.
A correspondent of the Rochester
Democrat, writing from Venice, says;
“In the course of our wanderings
through the palace our guide takes us
across the Bridge of Sighs, leading
from tho palace to the prisons opposite.
It is a tradition that no prisoner who
passed this bridge ever returned, or in
deed was ever heard of afterwards.
Whether this is true or not it is in keep
ing with the reputation which the Vene
tian Republic has obtained, and one
does not caro to dispute the assertion.
Republics can be as despotic as mon
archies or empires, and certainly tho
Republic of Venice can boast little of
the freedom of its people. The Bridge
of Sighs is more interesting when viewed
externally, although there is nothing
grand or magnificent about it. It is
simply a short cgpercd corridor across
a narrow canal, connecting the two
buildings at the second story. There
is a wall through the center, internally,
dividing the bridge into two passages,
one of which led to the prisons of polit
ical offenders, and the other to the
cells of tho common criminal. The
former has served to give this bridge
its unusual interest, for but little ro
mance can be predicated upon the fate
of those legally convicted of crime. And
probably after all Childe Harold has
had as much to do with the renown of
this bridge as the Merchant of Venice
has had with the Rialto—for you cannot
pass either without quoting something
from Byron or Shakespeare.”