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AN ALBANY MYSTERY.
The Subterrnaean Pasmce In the Old
Schuyler Hanston.
Recently the old Schuyler mansion
and grounds in Albany, N. Y., were sold
for a nominal consideration. The
grounds were ent no into building lots
and the historic old pile is to be convert
ed into a beer garden. The house was
built by Mrs. Philip Schuyler while her
husband, General Schuyler, was in Eng
land in 1760-’6l. The mansion is at the
head of Schuyler street, built of brick,
with a closed octagonal porch in front.
Until 1800 General and Mrs. Schuyler
dispensed hospitality, and during that
time many notable personages were en
tertained royally within its walls. When
General Burgoyne > urrendered at Sara
toga in 1777 he and other prisoners were
sent to Albany and while there were
eared for by Mrs. Schuyler. Burgoyne
was given the best room in the house
and was well received. When, in 1781,
a plan was laid to capture Gen. Schuyler
and take him to Canada the house
proved a good fortress. Tories, Indians
and Canadians surrounded the house for
several days before they effected on en
trance. The stair rail still bears the dent
of a tomahawk thrown by a savage at a
daughter of the General who was fleeing
with an infant sister. In this house La
fayette, Rochambeau and Baron Steu
ben were guests. It was the headquar
ters of many officers of the Continental
army of the Revolution. There has al
ways been a belief that there was a se
cret underground passage from the man
sion to the Hudson River, half a mile
distant. This belief has been discredit
ed, but late developments establish its
certainty beyond a doubt. Recently
while men were at work excavating they
were surprised at striking a stone slab a
foot beneath the surface. Raising this
they found recesses beneath, from which
long-confined gases issued. It was found
to be seventeen feet deep, filled to a
depth of five feet with water. The open
ing was eased in iron, two inches thick.
In the cellar of the old mansion were
found slabs of stone lying over hollow
places which corresponded in alignment
with the ones discovered on the grounds .
in front of the house. Further develop
ments are expected when the ice-cold
water is taken from the passage; but
this will not be until spring, for work has
been suspended for the winter.
“Can’t Have Her.”
“Never marry but for love,” said
William Penn, “but see that thou lovest
what is lovely.” Jonathan Edwards,
the great new England theologian, so
heartlessly indorsed Penn’s sentiment
that he refused the hand of his own
daughter to a young man who wished to
marry her, because she was not
“lovely.” The youth called upon Ed
w.uds, at Stockbridge, whcrft'he was
preaching to Indians and writing his
famous treatise on the "W. 11 and asked
to bo allowed to marry his daughter.
“You can’t have her,” said the
preacher.
“But I love her.”
“No matter; yon can't have her.”
“But she loves me, too.”
“I say you can’t have her.”
“But 1 am well off and can support
her.”
“You can't have her, I tell you.”
“Why not, Mr. Edwards ? What
have you against me ?”
“Nothing.”
“Weil, then, why can’t I have
Emily ?”
“Because I think you are a pretty
decent sort of a young man; too good
for her.”
“What?. Mr. Edwards, what in the
world do you mean ?”
“She's got a wncked temper, and you
wouldn’t be happy with her.”
“But I thought she was a Christian?”
“So she is, young man, so she is.
But LeforS you have lived as long as.
I have, you’ll find out that there are
some people in this world that the grace
irf God may get along with, but you
can’t.”
Flghtteg with Baslii-Bazouks.
An English correspondent writing from
Egypt, says: “For the little garrison of
Bashi-Bazouks I have great respect.
Time after time it has been attacked,
and has successfully defeated the at
tackers. The last time the Arabs had re
course to strategy. They beat their tom
toms very vigorously half a mile off;
meanwhile they crept silently into the
ditch underneath the low bastion where
was the one gun of the fort. One of
them, however, let off a rifle by accident,
and the garrison were at once alarmed
Though it was dark they could perceive
thousands in the ditch, and they opened
a withering fire upon them. The enemy,
however, succeeded in actually seizing
upon the wheels of the gun and also the
legs of the Turkish commandant, who
was standing by, and a pull devil, pull
baker took place. At length the officer
was dragged within the ramparts. Hun
dreds of Arabs were mowed down in
their desperate attempt to enter. In
some places they threw skins over the
prickly abattis. At others, where there
was no ditch, but merely mimosa against
the wall, they mounted on each other’s
shoulders. At one time they actually
succeeded in bursting open a wicket
near the gate, but all who entered were
caught in a rat trap—they found them
idves in an open court from which there
was no exit, and they were mowed down
mercilessly. For two hours did the as
sault continue. At length the Arabs,
having lost the greater part of their
number, retired. In these desperate
assaults by these Arabs one is reminded
of the heroism of their ancestors, the
Saracens.”
FEMALE EMANCIPATION.
“I see, Fanny, you are smoking cigar
ettes. Why do you do that ?” asked a
1 ston lady of a strong-minded female
friend.
“In the first p': c?. I wmt to emanci
pate myself, and secondly when I smoke
’ I always think of him, ’ was the reply.
“And don’t it make you sick ?”
Summer v ilk ©itjetk.
VOL. XII. SUMMERVILLE. GEORGI A, WEDNESDAY EVENING, JANUARY 27, 1885. NO. 2.
TOO MUCH WHEAT.
“Too much wheat!" So the dealers eay,
Millions of bushels left unsold
Os last year's crop; and now, to-day,
Ripe and heavy and yellow as gold,
This summer’s crop counts full and fair;
And murmurs, not thanks, arc in the air,
And storehouse doors are locked, to wait,
And men are plotting, early and late.
“What shall save the farmers from loss
If wheat too plenty makes wheat a dross?”
‘•Too much wheat?” Good what a word ’
A blasphemy in our borders heard.
*Too much wheat!” And our hearts were
stirred,
But yt sterday, and our cheeks like flame,
For veng. ance the Lord his loins doth gird,
When a nation reads such tale of shame.
Hundreds of men lie dying, dead,
Brothers of ours, though their skins are red:
Men we promised to teach and feed.
Oh, dastard nation ! dastard deed !
They starve like beasts in pen and fold!
While we hoard wheat to sell for gold.
“Too much wheat !” Men’s lives are dross !
“How shall the farmers be saved from loss?”
“Too much wheat I” Do the figures lie ?
What wondrous yields ! Put the ledgers by ! |
“Too much wheat 1”
Oh, summer rain,
And sun, and sky, and wind from west,
Fall not, nor shine, nor blow again I
Let fields lie deserts, famine guest
Within our gates who hoard for gold
Millions of bushels of wheat unsold,
With men and women and children dead
And daily dying for lack of bread I
“Too much wheat!” Good God, what a word 1
A blasphemy in our borders heard.
Heijen Jackson.
TIM’S BROKEN HEART.
“Now, Mary dear, you’re foolin’ I”
The speaker was a tall, broad-shoul
dered young Irishman, with straight,
clear features, frank, loving eyes and a
well-shaped, intelligent forehead, from
which his curly black hair was brushed
carelessly.
The yming girl addressed was, as may
be supposed, of the same nationality as
himself, but one might have gone a good
way to find a prettier damsel than she,
with her rosy cheeks, bright, sparkling
eyes and wavy brown hair. Her white,
plump arms, that many a ball-room
belle might have envied, were thrown
over her head and her eyes were snaj -
ping with coquettish merriment.
“Now, Mary dear, you’re foolin’l ’and
Tim’s black eyes looked lovingly into
her brown eyes.
“No, indeed, I’m not, Tim Murton I
I mean what I say 1” retorted Mary,
with a toss of her head; “so, do go
along and don’t bother me I”
“Ab, now, Mary, jewel, just name the
day and then I’ll go1” persisted Tim,
coaxingly.
“No, I’ll do nothing of the kind I” re
plied Mary, more mercilessly than ever.
“I guess I’ll have to break off our en
gagement, Tim I you’re too bothersome
altogether 1” she added, after a little
pause.
“Oh, Mary 1” gasped poor Tim, re
ceding a step or two, “break off the en
gagement, darlint ? when I love ye so!
You can’t mean it, sure I”
“Yes, I do mean it 1” persisted this
wayward damsel, who liked nothing bet
ter than to torture her lover, who was
taking her coquettish words so dread
fully to heart. “I guess you needn't
come any more, Tim !”
“Are you in earnest, Mary, honey?”
asked Tim, lugubriously.
“To be sure I am; can’t ye see that?”
cried Mary, longing to laugh at his woe
begone countenance; and, without bid
ding him good bye, she tripped gayly
into the house.
As for Poor Tim, he stood for a mo
ment as if his last hope had deserted
him, and then turned away with a mel
ancholy step.
He was walking slowly along, still
lamenting over the wilfulness of his
capricious little sweetheart, when a step
sounded near him, and a hand was laid
familiarly on his shoulder, while a cheer
ful voice called in his ear:
“What’s the matter, Tim, me boy ?
Why, considerin’ the direction ye come
from, ye oughtn’t to look in that forlorn
fashion.”
“I’m in trouble, Mike,” said pool
Tim, in a mournful tone, as he laid his
hand on that of his friend.
“Well, out with it, boy,” cried Mike,
as Tim paused without any further ex
planation; “let's know what it is, an'
maybe I can help you. Is it any mis
chief that of little witch of a Mary’s
brewin’ ?”
“Yes; nothing else would have
troubled me a bit,” replied Tim; “but
she’s given me the mitten, Mike, an’ I
don’t know what to do.”
“Whist! Give ye the mitten, has
she?” exclaimed Mike, scratching his
pate, as if to bring any ideas that might
ledge therein to the surface. “That's
hard! But I’ll tell ye, Tim,” he added,
after a pause. “I’ve known Mary ever
since she was a little thing, and then
she used to plague the life out iv me.
She only wants to bother you a little,
that’s all; for she'd as soon jump off the
top iv the home as give you up, me boy.
But she deserves a good scare for her
naughtiness, an’ I’ll tell you how to bring’
her round.”
“Do you really think she was only
jokin’, Mike ?” asked Tim, with a sigh
of relief.
“To be snre I do, lad,” replied Mike,
“and now I’ll tell you howto get her
’>ack again.”
Ye will, Mike,” repeated Tim, eager-
ly; “oh, an’ you’re a blessed lad if
you’ll do that same I Do tell me,
quick 1”
“Well, listen then,” and Mike pro
ceeded to unfold his idea to Tim, who.
at the conclusion of it, hugged him like
a bear.
“Faith, an’ you’re a j’ewel iv a boy,
Mike I" he exclaimed ecstatically; “I
hate to trate the purty creature so,
but ”
“She deserves it, an’ it’s no more than
fair,” inter] osed Mike calmly.
“Well, good-by, then,” and whistling
gayly, Tim went off toward his home.
The next day as Tim was sauntering
across the fields to his dinner, who
should he see tripping along over the
green, looking ten times prettier and
more coquettish than ever, but this
same capricious Mary, who had taken
bis susceptible heart so completely by
storm. At the sight of her Tim’s heart
began to beat wildly, and he could
hardly keep from rushing forward and
catching her in his arms and kissing
those tempting cherry lips, but a little
saucy toss of her head as she came on
decided-him, and he resolved to follow
his friend’s advice.
The fact was Miss Mary had felt a
little uneasy as to what the issue of her
last evening’s coquetry and ill-treatment
of poor Tim might be. She loved him
dearly, and had done so long before the
momentous question had been falteringly
propounded by brave Tim, who hadn't
been absolutely certain whether he stood
on his head or on his heels for as much
as two hours after; but she was such a
wayward little sprite that she was bound
to torment him to her heart’s content,
and let him see what a sprightly little
will she had of her own, when she chose
to exercise it.
She expected that he would step in
and see her on her way to work that
morning, as he had been wont to do;
but as the gentleman failed to make his
appearance, Mary began to fear that he
had taken her words in earnest, and so
at dinner-time she threw on her bonnet
and tripped across the fields, to intercept
him, and bring him into allegiance
again by one of her captivating smiles.
Accordingly she hurried forward to
meet him, but, to her surprise, instead
of waiting for her to overtake him, Tim
walked leisurely and unconcernedly on.
and when at last she reached him, all
flushed and a little “spunky,” he lifted
his hat, and said, in a very polite, but
cool tone:
“Good morning, Miss Mary.”
“Miss Mary, indeed 1” echoed our
heroine, greatly surprised at this unex
pected greeting, and shrugging her
plump shoulders; “for how long have
we been such great strangers, Master
Tim?”
“I believe you have broken our en
gagement, so that is enough to make us
strangers,” replied Tim, coolly.
“Broken the engagement I fiddle
sticks I” rejoined Mary, beginning to
get a little alarmed at the cool, uncon
cerned manner of her usually impetuous
lover, although she would not have
shownit for the world; “what are you
talking such nonsense as that for,
Tim ?”
“You told me so yourself, last night,
ma'am,” responded Tim, composedly.
“I’ve been thinking the matter over, an'
I don’t know but what the plan would
suit me as well, after all.”
Had Tim spoken lees coolly, or had
his voice faltered Khy, Miss Mary would
have turned, and walked off, sure that
he would follow her before long; but
matters really appeared so alarming,
and Tim seemed so perfectly re
signed to his lot, that she resolved to
stay and coax him into good humor
again.
“What plan do yon mean?” she
asked, somewhat faintly, pulling to
pieces a half-blown rose that she had
in her hand.
“Why, of our forgetting all about
each other, and taking up with some one
else,” responded Tim, glibly; “I've been
thinking who to choose, an' I guess I’ll
take Kate Somers; she’s about the nicest
girl I know.”
“But, Tim ” began poor Mary.
“Ami she has quite a nice little sum
of money, too, in her own right,” pur
sued Tim, remorselessly, who now, that
he was fairly in for it, began to enjoy
paying his sweetheart back “in her own
coin;” “and she’s pretty, has got an ex
cellent temper, and would make a very
good wife. What do you think about
it. Miss Mary ?”
“I wish you joy of her 1” exclaimed
Mary, longing to get home to cry; and
she turned from him, determined to let
him go.
“Well, good-by,” called Tim, cheer
fully, although his heart sank; “I’ll
send you a piece of the wedding cake.”
And he, too, turned, without looking
behind him, and walked on; but just
as he was about to despair of the suc
cess of bis friend’s project, he heard a
light step behind him, and the next mo
ment Mary appeared beside him.
Her pretty little eyes and nose looked
suspiciously red, and her voice trembled
a little as she said:-
“How soon will you have the wed
ding, Tim ?”
“As soon as Kate is ready,” replied
Tim; “and that reminds me to ask you;
have you not got any other beau yet?”
“Yes,” answered Mary, withan hys-
terical laugh, that with as much pro
priety might have been styled a sob.
“Would ye mind tellin’ me?” pur
sued Tim.
“Ob, Tim I” cried Mary, as the last
spark of resolution deserted her; “it’s
you, Tim I If you’ll forgive me for
treating you so bad I” and she threw
herself impulsively into his arms and
sobbed and laughed alternately.
“Whist, Mary, darling, don’t cry I’
cried Tim tenderly, as he drew her to
ward him; “we’ll make it all up if ye’ll
promise something. ”
“What is it?” asked Mary, wiping
her eyes with one hand while she held
tightly on to him with the other.
“Name the day, darlint?” and Tim
bent his beaming face and snatched a
kiss from the rosy cheek that was turned
so temptingly toward him.
“You saucy fellow,” cried Mary with
some of her old sprightliness, “I’ll make
you wait for that I”
“Then I’ll go straight off to Kate
Somers, by gracious I” returned Tim.
attempting to disengage his hand.
“Indeed, you’ll not:” retorted Mary;
“before you shall go to that old thing,
I’ll say—whenever you like, Tim.”
“An’ that’ll not be a long time
cornin’,” cri> d Tim, rapturously; “and
now, jewel, I’ll see you home, an’ then
I’ll go back to my work I”
“But your dinner?” suggested Maiy.
“Here it is,” and taking her in his
arms, he—but mercy I If I should stop
to relate all that he said and did on that
joyous occasion, it would take up more
time than I have to spare at present.
A Dakota Prairie Fire.
An extensive and destructive prairie
fire oceured recently in the vicinity of
Forman, in Sargent County, Dakota.
The Chronicle nays: “ Bunday even
ing, as the sun was sinking in the west
ern horizon, a fiio was noticed encircling
this place, and at no greater distance
then twenty miles to the north and
west. The scene that immediately fol
lowed was too horrible to be thought of.
The whole heavens seemed as one mass
of seething, hissing fire. The roar that
accompanied the fl imos as they darted
upward was enough to startle the
pioneer and completely shatter the bold
and fearless tenderfoot. A cry was
raised, and in a few minutes the citizens
bad turned out eu masse with wet bugs
and coal-oil torches, and going to the
north and northwest limits of the town
along the wagon trail loading west, im
mediately plied the torches. The grass
went off like powder, burning a back fire
twenty feet wide in an instant, reaching
nearly a half a mile. Then to meet the
creeping flames approaching from the
north, a double back fire was started
by the torchmen, and had just been
completed when the roar of the flames
was heard ascending the hill—only in
a moment to flash in the tall grass and
meet the back-fire with the swish pe
culiar to the concussion following the
discharge of a cannon. The fire to
the west was then about two miles dis
tant, but nearing at the rate of about
eighteen miles an hour, and when the
north fire had been safely met all hands
went to the southwest trail, running
to about twenty yards north of the new
school-house, and started a back-fire
on the north side of the trail, and then
bringing the fire over the trail, it was
Jet to burn around the south side of
the school-house, being watched by
eight or ten to prevent the fire spread
ing to the building. At one time it
seemed as though the blaze would get
the best of them, but wet sacks were
applied and the flumes subdued. Oth
er parties were sent in different direc
tions and succeeded in checking the
fire. The damage done, however, was
estimated at 810,000.”
■■■■■■ I O I
Roast Turkey with Oyster Force-meat.
Remove aIL/Sathers from the turkey,
singe it, and .tripe it over with a wet
towel. Lay the bird on its breast, and
ent down the middle of the back in a
straight line; then cutting from the neck
downward, and keeping the knife-blade
close to the carcass, find the joints
which unite the wings to the body, and
unjoint them, leaving the bones of the
wings in the flesh; then, still cutting
close to the bones, reach the thighs and
unjoint them, leaving the bones in the
legs; free the carcass of the turkey en
tirely from the flesh, taking care not to
cut through the outer skin of the bird,
especially along the front of the breast
bone. When all the flesh has been
taken from the bones in this way, lay
it, skin downward, upon the table and
season it with salt and pepper; remove
the gall from the liver, and place the
liver on the skin of the neck from which
the crop has been removed; next jay on
the flesh of the bird the oyster force
meat, prepared as directed in the follow
ing recipe, draw the skin together at
the back and sew it with large stitches,
taking care that enough farce-meat is
used to fill the body of the turkey out
plump. Truss the bird with skewers or
string, so that its original shape is re
stored, tie a large thin slice of fat salt
pork over the breast, and cook as a tur
key is usually cooked. When it is done
remove the skewers or strings which
hold it in place, and serve with gravy
made from the drippings in the pan,
using the giblets boiled tender, then
chopped and added to the gravy. Serve
celery with the roast turkey.
TRUE BEAUTY AND SALVATION.
A For Notre* From Henry Ward Beecher’s
Munday Sermon.
Mr. Beecher on Sunday morning took
three verses of Scripture for his text.
Some of the more striking things he
said are given below:—
“The Greek found beauty on the out
side, the Hebrew on the inside. The
Greek made visible marble men, the
Hebrew chanted the hidden man of the
heart.”
“I hold that beauty begins within,
and that the material and the visible is
the effect, not the cause; not the proto
type, but the sequence.”
“The special power of the Gospel of
Jesus Christ, so far as it is committed
to men, is the power of their beauty in
wardly. It is not their eloquence, their
songfnlness; it is not their power of
genius; it is their power of being good
—radiantly good in each part, and so
chorally good that, like a mighty chorus
made up of many parts and many voices,
the one complex and grand sound shall
go out to the ears of men. That is the
Church.”
“The New Testament'is very like some
royal woman, rich, and having such
multitudinous jewelry that some she
keeps in her casket and some in her
closet—it is scattered all over the house
and never brought altogether at once.
So the New Testament don’t bring all
all its moral jewelry together in any one
place.”
“The beauty within man is the dia
mond; the exterior beauty is the paste—
very beautiful to look at, but it is not
the diamond.”
“There is not a living man who de
serves to live an hour that don’t know
that the most beautiful thing in this
world is love. Alas I like manna, it
lasts but a day; like a dewdrop that is
as beautiful as the sun can make it, but
vanishes before it is ten in the morning.”
“Peace is to joy what the pearl is to
the diamond. The diamond flashes with
all colors; the pear], serene, quiet in its
satiny, silken surface; and yet it is very
beautiful. Strange that the pearl should
have such a father. But it is just so in
human life. We see pearls growing in
the human family as in nature.”
“I don’t think we got so much out of
the catechism, for the reason there ain’t
much in it. But I don’t think our capit
ularies of doctrines influence man half
as much as you think they do. 1 tell
you it isn't the ordinances of the sanct
uary, the broken symbols—certainly it
isn’t the organ or preacher—that make
Christian men and women. Boys and
girls get their ideas of what is the beau
ty of holiness with the father and mother.
It is the evolution of the Spirit of Christ
in the father and mother and the sister
md brother that is the real Gospel
to-day.”
“The beggarly idea that is prevalent
that religion is a mode of saving men—
well,from a certain point of view.it is true
that to be saved is a thing for aspiration
and for longing, and the evidence in a
man’s inner self that he has been born
again ought to bring forth joy. And yet,
as it is held by the common run of
minds, it is a beggarly thing the idea
that we are to get religion as we would
get a ticket for a concert or an opera,
and then present our ticket as a pass to
our seat in heaven.”
The Colored Men’s Exhibits.
The negro population of the South has
shown the liveliest interest in the oppor
tunity offered by the New Or'eans Ex
position to evidence the advancement of
the race during twenty years of freedom.
The leaders of the race in every State of
the South have taken the matter in hand
and effected a systematic organization
and are making effort to secure a credit
able display. Enough is known of the
success of their efforts to warrant the as
sertion that this department of the Ex
position will be a genuine surprise to
those who have not closely followed the
progress of the race in inventions, the
mechanical and fine arts, the sciences
and in The object
of the Exposition management in group
ing together the evidences of the rapid
development of the race, and in making
them a distinctive feature of the enter
prise, is greatly appreciated by the col
ored people and the appointment of ex-
Senator Blanche K. Bruce as the head
of the department has added to the feel
ing of satisfaction. The department will
be controlled exclusively by colored
men, and the exhibits will be collected
and forwarded by the colored commis
sioners in the various States, whose ex
penses have been generously assumed
by the Exposition management. The
departments of colored exhibits was the
idea of Director General Burke, and is
only one of the many evidences of his
admirable qualifications for the position
he occupies.
——-
In New York city there is an army of
office holders. There are 10,832 salaried
officials in the city’s employ receiving
monthly, 8917,952.40, or an average of
SB4 74 each. In addition to these, there
were in September 3,224 laborers on the
pay-rolls who received 8193,860.09, or
an average of 860.13 each. There are a
large number of political strikers on the
pay-roll who only go to the City Hall
on the first day of me month to draw
their pay.
HARNEY’S RACE FOR LIFE.
An Onicer’s Recollections ot an Interesting
Episode During the Florida Indian War.
In 1839 Gen. Harney had a post with
two companies of the Second Dragoons
on the Caloosahatchie river, about ten
or fifteen miles above its mouth. It
enters the Gulf of Mexico at Sanabel
Island. The men were mostly in tents.
There was a small stockade, a sutler's
store and a temporary store-house in the
encampment.
In the middle of a hot night—l forget
the precise date—the Seminoles, num
bering three or four hundred, under
Arpiaka, the Fish-Eater, and Billy
Bowlegs, surprised the post. 001. Har
ney, in consequence of the heat and
mosquitoes, had taken his blanket and
left his quarters to sleep on a knoll on
the river bank, where the cool breeze
swept over the water. This alone saved
his life. He was awakened in the dead
of the night by the yells of the Indians,
the firing of guns and the shrieks of his
dying men. The houses and tents were
fired, the soldiers killed before they
could offer resistance—in short, it was
a massacre of the soldiers—not an In
dian killed in the whole affair.
Harney, in his shirt and drawers,
without a weapon, could only run for
life. Capture would be death by the
cruelest torture. He ran down the
river, through a dense swamp, the In
dian yells filling the night air, and he
believed them close on his trail. For
miles he kept on, the scanty clothes he
wore tom all to tatters on the branches
as he plunged through the brush, and
fast as he went he heard a crash behind
him. He was pursued. At last,
breathless, worn out so he could run no
further, he halted and turned. I give
his own words to mp of what then oc
curred :
“I heard the red cusses close onto
me. I knew it was death, but I thought
I’d die game. I squared off, clinched
my fists and shouted : ‘Come on, you
red devils, confound you, come on I'
‘Howly Saints, is that you, Kernel I’
cried one of my own men, the only man
besides me that escaped, as he halted
within my reach. I was that mad, to be
scared by a white man, that I knocked
him down on the spot 1 It's a fact.
Then I felt ashamed of my act, picked
him up, and told him I was sorry.”
The two then crawled on through the
swamp and got down by daylight to
Sanabel Island, swimming across the
narrow channel to its sandy shore. The
next day we ran in there for water in
the Otsego, and found Harney and his
soldier almost stark naked on the beach,
both hungry and thirsty, but thankful
for life.
And this is known in Florida war his
tory as the “Massacre on the Caloosa
hatchie.” The reason of the surprise
was, that there was a temporary truce
between the Indians and whites, and
feeling no danger, the sentinels were
few and careless. After that Harney
planned and carried out a raid into the
Everglades, in which twenty-seven buck
Indians were killed or captured—and all
of them hung as soon as in our hands.
We captured about thirty squaws and
children, who were held as prisoners
till sent West. I was on the raid In
it the late Gen. Ord was shot through
the shoulder. He was then a second
lieutenant in the Third Artillery. Gen.
Sherman, now retired, was a first lieu
tenant in the same regiment at the
time.
■ ",.
An Anecdote of Admiral Foote.
From an article on Admiral Foote and
the Gunboats, by James B. Eads, in
the January Century, we quote the fol
lowing: “In the railway train a gentle
man who sat in front of me, learning
that I had constructed Foote’s vessels,
introduced himself as Judge Foote, of
Cleveland, a brother of the Admiral.
Among other interesting matters, he re
lated an anecdote of one of his little
daughters who was just learning to read.
After the capture of Fort Henry the
squadron was brought back to Cairo for
repairs, and, on the Sunday following,
the crews, with their gallant flag-officer,
attended one of the churches in Cairo.
Admiral Foote was a thorough Christian
gentleman and excellent impromptu
speaker. Upon this occasion, after the
congregation had some one
whispered to him that the minister was
ill and would be unable to officiate;
whereupon the Admiral went up into the
pulpit himself, and after the usual prayer
and hymn, he selected as the text John
xiv. 1, ‘Let not your heart be troubled:
ye believe in God, believe also in me.’
Upon this text he delivered what was
declared to be an excellent sermon, or
exhortation, after which he dismissed
the congregation. An account of the
sermon was widely published in the
papers at the time, and came into the
hands of the little niece referred to.
After she had read it, she exclaimed to
Mer father: «,
“ ‘Uncle Foote did not say that right.’
“ ‘Say what right?’ asked her father.
“ ‘Why, when he preached.’
“ ‘What did he say ?’
“ ‘He said, “Let not your heart be
troubled: ye believe in God, believe
also in me.” ’
“ ‘Well, what should he have said?’
inquired the father.
“ ‘Well, he ought to have said, “Let
not your heart be troubled: ye believe
in God, believe also in the gun-boats." ’ ”
THE HUMOROUS PAPERS.
WHAT WE FIND IN THEIR COLUMNS
TO SMILE OVER.
The New Klarn—ln an Express Oflioe—The
Frolicsome I.lnn—ln Hard Luck—Did
lie Love Her* cfr., etc.
BAD NO TIME.,
A gentleman who drove up to the post
office yesterday and found no place to
hitch his horse called to a bootblack and
asked if he did want to earn a nickel.
“Can’t do it just now,” replied the
lad; "I’m going up the alley to see a
slugging match.”
Close at his heels was another boy,
and the gentleman addressed him with
the same inquiry,
“Oh, I couldn’t stop a minute,” pro
tested the gamin, “ter I’m one of the
sluggers he’s going to see slug!”— Detroit
Free Press.
A PHRENOLOGIST IN BAUD LUCK.
First Traveling Phrenologist—“ Can’t
you lend me a dollar?”
Second Traveling Phrenologist—“My
gracious lis that yon ? Why, you look
all broken up. Been sick ?”
“No, but I’ve had very bad luck.”
“I should say so. Never saw you
look so seedy. Couldn’t you attract an
audience at your last town ?”
“Yes, I had a big audience, and dur
ing the lecture tried to read characters
by the bumps as usual, but I made so
many mistakes that the people made me
give them their money back and then
they mobbed me.”
“Made blunders I I can’t understand
that. You never failed to recognize
bumbs before. What could have been
the matter ?”
“It seems the town had a new roller
skating rink and everybody was learn
ing.”— Philadelphia Call.
A NEW nEAF.
He—But really, my dear, just think
how small my income is. Instead of
buying a new dress, why not turn the
old one ?
She—Turn the old one, indeed ! Your
income is plenty large enough if you do
not spend it all at the club. You better
do a little turning yourself.
He—l ? Why, what can I turn ?
She—Turn over a new leaf.—Phila
de.lph'a Call.
THAT EXPRESS MATTER.
A pop-eyed darkey rushed into an
Austin express-office, and asked excited
ly:
“Is dar any express package here for
‘ Major Jones I”
“Have you got an order?”
“No, sab.”
‘ ‘You can’t get any thing out of this
without an order.”
The colored gentleman went two miles
and back on the double quick. Once
more he stood before the desk, panting
and blowing, and fanning himself with
his hat.
“Heah am de order, Hah."
Express agent to clerk: “Any package
here for Major Jones?”
“No."— Texas Siftings,
THE FROLICSOME LION.
An old L’on, having concluded to have
some fun, dr m himself in the skin
of an old Kentucky Mule an 1 set out on
a journey for the purpose of deceiving
people by his little joke; but he had not
gone far before an old Farmer, who,
thinking that he hud discovered a stray
Mule, seized him, and having hitched
him to a plow, broke up four acres of
rocky land with him before discovering
what kind of an animal he was subject
ing to such indignity.
Moral :—This Fable teaches that not
every Philosopher would sparkle and
flourish as a Clown; and that too many
jokes often mar the symmetry of agravs
discourse. — Life.
HE LOVED HER.
“Do you love me, dearest ?” she asked
of her crusty old husband.
“Did you pay those bills yesterday ?’.’
“Yes, but do you—”
“Is there anything you want particu ?
larly to-day ?”
"No, but do you loye me, dearest?”
“Well, I guess I do,” he then cau
tiously replied, as he carefully placed a
newspaper over the pocket where he
carried his money.— Graphic.
SPELLING IT.
“Jeptha,” asked Mrs. Jones, who
was writing a letter home. “How do you
spell sign ?”
“S-i-n e,” answered Jones, who al
wnvs spells by sound,
“I thought there was a g in it some
whe-re, ‘‘remarked Mrs. Jones,doubtfully.
“I’hat would makesingof it. S-i-n-e
spells Sign.”
“That’s so,” said Mrs. Jones proudly,
and wrote home that her husband had a
new sine painted for his store.”— Detroit
F. ec Press.
’ ONE OF THEM.
Stephen A. Douglas used to tell a
story of his meeting in Congress, when
he came on at one session, an old Demo
cratic friend by the name of Anthone
Kennedy, representing one of the strong
est Whig districts in Indiana.
“How in the world did you get here,
Kennedy ?” was his salutation to him.
“Get here I” replied Kennedy. “Why
I defeated two of the strongest Whigs in
my district, and I could have beaten a
half dozen more if they had brought
them on.”
JULIUS DIDN T HIT IT.
There were three or four of us in a
grocery store in Macon when a tall,
solemn looking negro entered and pre
sented a written order for 85 worth of
goods.
“Did Col. Dunlap give you this
order ?’’ sharply inquired the grocer.
The negro scratched his head and
looked uneasy.
“Did he sign it for you 1”
“Say, boss,” slowly began the man,
■‘has you any doubts datKemul Dunlap
signed dat ar’ order ?”
“Os course I have !”
"Den dat settles de case an’ I doan
want no trade. If my son Julius can’t
do better dan dat arter practicin’ fur a
hull week l’M gwine home to tell him
dat he’d better drap edneashun an’ pick
up de cotton-chopper I”— Detroit Free
Press.