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THE FLOATING GARDENS.
A Surprising Sight Near the
City of Mexico,
Places Where Indian Cbrn, Vegetables and
Flowers Grow Luxuriantly.
“We visited the celebrated floating
gardens,’’ writes a correspondent in
Mexico, “when a tract of vegetation
composed of reeds, water-plants and
bushes, interwoven and laced together,
becomes so dense that it will bear a
superstructure, strips of turf twenty
to thirty yards long by two yards wide
are cut from some suitable firm place,
floated to it down the canal and laid
upon it; this is repeated several times,
and thus an island is securely raised
two or three feet above the level of
the water, a little soil is spread over it,
and it becomes a chinampa, or floating
garden, on which Indian corn, vege
tables and flowers are grown. The
gardens vary in size from 100 to 200
feet in length and from twenty to 100
in width, according to the nature of the
vegetation which supports them.
“To secure these gardens in their
proper places long willow poles are
driven through them into the ground
below, where they soon take root. The
poles also throw out roots into the
beds of the floating gardens, and so
hold t hem steady.
“We took a line of streetcarsand
were landed near an old Spanish
bridge, alongside of which we found a
number of miserable flat-boats covered
with awnings, with a seat on each side
covered with red calieo. We held our
noses as well as our breaths. Upon
leaving the city the canal is lined on
both sides with beautiful trees of the
species of the weeping willow, only
that they are quite tall. The City
Gate, or local custom house, is then
passed. Here are to be seen many
boats laden with lumber, firewood,
vegetables, fruits, flowers, etc., wait
ing to pay toll. A large daily revenue
is derived from this source by the gov
ernment. The stalwart Indians swift
ly pole the boat up the stream for
about ten minutes more, and Santa
Anita is reached. This is an old In
dian village, which has undergone few
or no changes for the last 300 years,
if weexcept the public school for boys
ami girls, and a small church. It is a
favorite pleasure resort for the inhab
itants of Mexico, especially during the
summer months, and is rendered doub
ly attractively by the numerous chi
nainpas or floating gardens found in its
Vicinity, on which are grown in re
markable abundance vegetables of all
kinds and beautiful flowers, which are
sold for a mere trifle.
“The water in the canal was the
color of dish-water. At Santa Anita
we entered a narrow ditch just wide
enough for our boat. The little boy
who pulled the boat with a long pole
worked manfully. We passed by a
number of women washing clothes on
th ' hanks, and using a flat stone as a
washboard. The gardens surprised
and pleased us. Here was a small
strip of land of, say, 20 feet wide by
100 deep, surrounded by water, pro
ducing the finest < f onions, another
cabbages, another radishes, another
carrots, another flowers, and soon, for
at least a mile—a succession of the
best cultivated gardens I ever saw.
These Mexican Indians are the best
gardeners in the world aside from the
Germans. Their methods are rude,
b ,t they know how to cultivate their
garden patches. On our return we
met boat-loads of boys and girls sing
ing and laughing as they slowly glided
along. It was not a Venetian scene,
but it showed that the brown-shoul
dered, blael -eyed Indian girl could
dream and talk of love."
Beethoven’s Lock of Hair.
Beethoven took a keen delight in
practical joking. The wife of a piano
forte player and composer in Vienna
had such an ardent desire to possess a
lock of Beethoven’s hair that she in
duced her husband to ask a mutual
friend to endeavor to get the great
comp cr to gratify her wish. The
friend prove! too fond of a practical
joke to be a loyal messenger. lie per
suaded Beethoven to send her a lock
of coarse gray hair resembling his
own, but cut from another head—a
billy goat’s, and clipped from a billy
g at’s beard!
The lady, thinking she had the gen
uine article, was as proud as a peacock;
but her joke was short-lived, for an
other friend, a party to the trick which
had been practiced, informed her of
the deception.
The husband of the deluded and dis
tressed lady wrote an indignant letter
to Beethoven, upbraiding him; and so
fairly was the composer shamed for
the discourtesy and unkindness of the
jest in which he had joined that he
wrote a letter of apology to the ag
grieved lady, enclosing a real lock of
his hair, and thenceforth refused the
visits ot the instigator of such ungal
lant practical joking.
He Thought So
One of the professors at the Uni ver
sit v of Texas is one of the most absent
minded men in the State. Not long
since a gentleman, who was only slight
ly acquainted with him. asked him:—
“Professor, are you married?’
The Professor was absorbed it
thought for a few moments and then
replied: —
-Yes, I think so. if I am not mis
taken.”—7’exas Siftings.
dinette.
VOL. XII. SUMMERVILLE, GEORGIA. WEDNESDAY EVENING, JULY 8.1885. NO. 25.
COMING,
4 song from the top of a budding tree,
A song of the sweetness yet to ba!
Scarcely is leaf or blossom seen,
Earth has only a hint of green;
Yet the heaven taught sparrow can soar and
sing
the coming of every precious thing.
Soon will the wind-blown seeds take root.
Rare boughs blush into bloom and fruit,
Wedded joy in a sheltering nest,
Brooding love in a mother’s breast.
Life’s full of gladness doth wake and sing,
Through the song-bird's note, in the early
spring.
—Jfary TsaheZZa Forsyth, in the Current .
IN THE WRONG HANDS.
Miss Orinthia Brown set down her tea.
cup with an emphasis that made all
the china rattle. And little Airs.
Meeker jumped nervously at the [
sound.
“I never heard anything so ridiculous
in all my life,’” said Miss Brown, deri
sively. “Gilbert. Mott in love with
Georgia Arlington 1 Why, she is a mere
doll with big blue eyes and pink cheeks
and yellow curls.”
“She’s very fascinating in her man
ners,” Mrs. Meeker ventured to re
mark.
“Oh, pshaw!” was Miss Orinthia’s
contemptuous comment. “And you
really think he’s in love with her?”
“Yes, I must say that I think so.”
“Ah-h-h,” said Orinthia, meaningly, !
“If I only dared tell you all!”
“Dear me!” said Mrs. Meeker, eagerly; ;
“what do you mean?”
“Nothing,” said Miss Brown with a
nod of her head. “lie walked home ;
from church last night with me—didn’t ■
he?”
“Yes, but—”
“He stayed on my side of the room
all the time we were decorating the
fair rooms with evergreens, didn’t
he?”
“Yes: but that was because —”
“And—but never mind, never mind!’, -
said Miss Orinthia, mysteriously. “Time
will show! Georgia Arlington, indeed
—why, she’s nothing but a child—a ■
mere school girl! I know better!”
“Do tell me, Miss Orinthia,” pleaded
Mrs. Meeker. “Is he really engaged to
you?”
Miss Orinthia pursed up her lips,drop
ped her eyelids with a manner that was
wonderfully eloquent, but she would
commit heiself no further.
“Let’s go up stairs and finish dressing
those China dolls for the lucky bag.”
•aid Miss Brown. “We shall get more
money out of the lucky bag than any
thing else, and we must be sure and
have it well furnished.”
While the tea drinking ceremonial
had been going on in the lower part of
the mansion of Mrs Meeker, quite a dif
ferent chain of circumstances was trans
piring above stairs. Mr. Gilbert Mott,
who had been inveighed into the snares
of the ladies’ fair, nolens volens, had
come early to help in the last piepara
lions, and walking up to the work room
had surprised a lovely blue eyed lassie
in the occupation of filling sundry
cones of bright-hued paper with sugar
plums and French bon-bons.
Georgia Arlington shook back her
ninny curls and blushed like a June rose
bud, as she started up.
“Don’t go, Miss Arlington, please!”
pleaded Gilbert, himself not unembar
rassed. But Georgia muttered some
thing about a roll of ribbon which she
had forgotten, and fluttered past him ere
he could remonstrate further.
Gilbert looked after her, with a whim
sical expression of dispairon his counte
nance.
“Now, why does she run away from
me like that!” he said to himself.
“Probably because she knows it tanta
lizes me. But. I’ll be even with her yet;
if she won’t let me tell her how dearly I
love her, I’ll write it to her!”
And heedless of the neglected piles of
cedar sprigs and princess pine yet wait
ing to be wrought into garlands, he sat
down to the table, and seizing pen and
ink began a passionate billet-doux after
the following fashion:
My Own Precious Darling: Why are
you so cold and cruel to me! Why will you
not let me tell you in words what you must
have rear! in my eyes—the story of my heart’s
devotion? For I love you, and have loved
you, and shall love you to the world’s end;
and you must have seen it for yourself dur
ing the last few days that we have been
working together for the church fair! Yet
you will not give me a word or a glance of
encouragement. Is this right, my ruthless
queen of hearts' But I am determined that
you sha> tell me when we meet again
whether I may hope or not! Until then,
sweet one, I am half in dispair, half hopefuL
Yours, ever and unalterably,
G. M.
He had just scribbled oft this unstudi
ed effusion when the sound of footsteps I
on the stairs chased away the soft shad
ows of his love dream, and he had just
time to slip the paper under a leaf of
Norway spruce twigs, when Mrs Meeker
and Miss Orinthia Brown entered.
“At work so soon!” cried the latter,
archly. “Isn’t he industrious, Mrs.
Meeker?”
“Yes,” said Gilbert, hypocritically, “I
am at work already.”
So he was, but not exactly for the
fair.
He watched nervously for an oppor.
“unity to possess himself of the precious
sneer of paper without observatiofi, but
Miss Orinthia, doubtless prompted there
to by some baleful evil spirit, hovered
around the spruce boughs like a middle
aged turtledove, and effectually warded !
off his designs. And presently he was ;
borne down stairs in the popular current j
to open some boxes of donations which I
had just arrived by parcel delivery.
“I can easily come back to get it
when they are busy cackling over the
new things," he thought.
But—fit illustration this of the futility
'■ of all human plans—when he came re- |
i joining back some twenty minutes or so ;
■ later the sheet was gone. Gone, leaving I
■ no trace of vestige behind—gone, utterly i
and entirely!
“I believe there has been some super- ;
| human agency at work,” thought our i
bewildered hero, as he tumbled over the )
I chaotic contents on the table in vain.
But Mr. Mott was wrong. The agency i
had been exceedingly human no other, j
- in fact, thun mischievous little Billie
Arlington, who came in search of stray
prises for the famous lucky-bag which
; had been temporarily delivered into his
hands. Cornucopias, pin-cushions, Him
mel’s scent-bags, needle-books. he
pounced on alike, and perceiving a sheet |
of pink paper written on, he crumpled it
I into an old envelope directed “Miss
Orinthia A. Brown,” which lay beyond.
“What larks it will bo! ” thought the ,
incorrigible Billy. “Some of the girls
i ’ll think they’ve got a love-letter and how
I mad they’ll be when they find it ain’t
nothing but one of Riutley’s receipts or
crochet patterns.”
And away rushed Master Billy, little
recking of the mischief he was unwit
: tingly working to the cause of true love.
The evening of the fair came, and the
I pretty rooms made still prettier by paper
| roses and evergreen garlands, were
: crowded with the brave, the fair, and
: some that were neither one nor the other.
Georgia Arlington, presiding at one of
the tables, looked lovely enough to drive
I half a dozen young men distracted, in
-1 stead of one; mid Miss Orinthia, in a
rustling slate colored silk dress, went
about like an autumn leaf in a high wind.
The lucky-bag circulated from hand to
hand, carrying, as is the wont of these
institutions, a little cutrent of merriment
ami laughter in its wake. Georgia drew
a cigar case, Mr. Mott became the pro
prietor of a rag doll, and Miss Orinthia
Brown drew -a letter, addressed to her
se'f.
Gilbert Mott, leaning against the
: doorway, saw Miss Brown hurrying
upto Georgia and displaying her prize
with malicious glee, while Georgia
Colored and bit her lip, and looked ready '
to cry, ami feigned a merry little ripple
’of laughter, all in one and the same
breath.
“Why don’t that horrid old maid keep
away from Georgia Arlington?” thought
our discontented hero. “She looks like
a dried-up bunch of rasing beside a clus
ter of bloomiug Isabella grapes.”
And, watching his opportunity, IfC
slipped through the crowd and edged up
to the table where Georgia was selling
pincushions and tape at an exorbitant
price.
“Georgia!” he whispered softly
“Georgia!” But si# turned her head
haughtily away.
“Please to cxecuse me, Mr. Mott,” she
said, coolly.
While Gilbert was stairing at her in
amazement, a hand was slipped through
his arm, and Miss Orinthia Brown drew
him gently away.
“Where arc you going?” he demanded
rather unwillingly.
“Just outside the door, one minute,”
whispered Miss Orinthia, falteringly.
“It is not in the tumult of a common
crowd that such words should bespoken.”
“ What words? I haven’t an idea of
what you mean!” cried the young man.
Orinthia drew him into the hail, her
head drooped on his shoulder.
“Yes,” she falters, “yes. How could
you for a moment doubt it?”
“Doubt what? Excuse me, Miss
Brown, but I think your wits are forsak
ing you,” said Gilbert Mott, striving to
free himself from the damsel’s grasp.
“Gilbert, would you then be false to
me?” sobbed Orinthia with the dawning
symptoms of hysteria.
“I! False to you!” echoed our hero.
“Miss Brown, will you be so kind as to
tell me at once, and plainly, what you
are talking about?”
Orinthia Brown’s sallow cheeks red
dened —her eyes sparkled ominously, ar
she drew from her pocket the precious
missive.
“Do you mean to say, sir, that you
didn’t write this letter?” she demanded.
Gilbert took the letter and scrutinized
I it closely.
“Yes, of course, I wrote the letter.”
“Then, dearest—”
“Stop, though,” he interrupted, fran
ticelly. “It wasn't to you.”
“Not to me?”
“No. Do you suppose I want to
many you?”
Miss Orinthia uttered a shrill shriek— (
but the next moment she was alone. Gil
bert Mott had vanished. For the mat
ter was growing serious now. If Geor
gia were to be won, she must be won at
once, before Fate conspired with an
other old maid to deprive him of her
coveted love.
“Georgia,” he said, planting himself
resolutely beside her. “ I Lave something
I wish to say to you. ”
“ You had a great deal better say it to
your beloved Miss Orinthia,” eaid Geor
gia, tossing her flaxen curls.
“But she isn't my beloved Miss Orin
[ thia,” cried Gilbert.
“ I suppose you will be denying your
I own handwriting next,” said Georgia,
j indignantly. “But it’s of no use; I saw
the letter myself.”
“ But, Georgia, the letter was written
to you.”
“ Then,” said Georgia, brightening up
a little, “ how did she get it?”
“That’s just what I can’t compre
l bend myself,” said Gilbert: “but one
I thing lam very certain of—l love you,
I and you alone, and I won’t leave you un
i til you tell me whether my love is ra
'turned.”
And he did not; neither was it neces
i sary for him to stay there very long.
But to this day nobody save Billy, the
i irrepressible, knows exactly how Geor
gia's letter came into Miss Orinthia
Brown’s hands.
Stanley on the Congo.
11. 11. Johnson, in a recent book on
the Congro region, gives the following
i description of his meeting with Stanley
;at Vivi,in a station crowded with Zanzi
baris: “Here he was, seated, on his
1 camp-chair, his pipe in h's mouth, and a
j semi-circle of grinning kinglets squatting
in front of him, some of them smoking
long-stemmed little-bowled pipes in
complacent silence, and others putting
many questions to ‘Bula Matadc’ ns to
I his recent journey to Europe—to
I‘Mputo,’ the land beyond the sea as
■ they call it—and receiving his replies
with expressions of incredulous wonder,
tapping their open mouths with their
hands. I paused involuntarily to look
nt this group, for Stanley had not yet
seen me approaching and was uncon
scious of observation. Perhaps he never
posed better for his picture than at that
moment, as he sat benignly chatting and
smoking with the native chiefs, his face
' lighting up with amusement at their na
tive remarks, while the bearing of his
head still retained that somewhat proud
carriage that inspired these African
chieftains with a real respect for Ins
wishes and a desire to retain his friend
ship. Any one observing Stanley at this
moment could comprehend the great in
fluence he possesses over the native mind
on the Congo, and could realize how
< that influence must tend toward peace
wherever Stanley’s fame has reached, for
to attack a friend of Stanley’s seems to
the natives scarcely less futile than at
tacking Stanley himself. Stanley turned
suddenly as the chief of the station in
troduced me, ami welcomed me in a
thoroughly cordial manner; then, dis-
■ missing the natives who had examined
me curiously under the belief that I was
‘Bula Matade’s’ son, he sent Dualla for
some tea. Dualla was a handsome
Somali lad, son of the chief of police at
Aden, and versed in many European and
African 'languages. He had been Stan
ley’s body-servant on the Congo since
1879.” 4
He Got the Money.
The New York Sun tells this story of
the late Commodore Vanderbilt: A few
years before the war the commodore pur
chased with Commodore Vanderbilt a
majority of the stock of the line now
known as the Pacific Mail. The part
ners diagreed, and each wanted to buy
the other out. At last Commodore Gar
rison received an offer of several millions
from Vanderbilt. Garrison accepted,
and Vanderbilt paid him in notes. After
( the notes had run for some time Mr.
Thorne, Vanderbilt’s son-in-law, went to
Garrison and said that Vanderbilt did
not want to he paying interest any
longer, and offered to settle for the full
amount. This was accepted, Vanderbilt
sending around a check for the princi
pal. Commodore Garrison put it in his
pocket, and walked down to Vander
bilt’s office, 3 Bowling Green.
“Look here, Vanderbilt,” he said,
' striking the cheek against the palm of
his hand, “I want the interest on this
money.”
“Do you?” replied Vanderbilt. “What
! will you do if you don’t get it?”
“Do? I’ll show you what I will do,”
replied Garrison, closing the door and
locking it.
No one knew what passed, but ten
I minutes afterward Garrison emerged
from the door of No. 3 bearing a check
for the full amount, principal and in
terest. Neither of the commodores
I could ever be prevailed on to disclose
the secret of that interview.
A Bad Place for Christians.
Formerly when a Persian Mahometan
killed a Christian he was fined sls.
Now he has to pay S6O for the same priv
: ilege. If a Mahometan can capture a
I Christian girl and convert her to his re
ligion, when her father dies he inherits
his property to the exclusion of all other
heirs. This causes a great run after the
daughters of rich Christians, even when
they are not pretty. If a Mahometan,
when out walking, meets a Christian on
horseback, the. latter has to surrender hi*
steed and allow the follower of the Pro
phet to ride to his destination.
The profits from “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”
are not all gone yet, but still remain tire ■
most important feature of its author’s is
, come.
TRAINING A HORSE, i
1
life Moblc Animal** Intelligence— j
Fact* of Interest <<» Owners.
“There are very few people who know (
row intelligent horses are,” said an ex j
pert horse trainer to a Newark Call re
porter the other day. “A horse that is i
rot too old can be taught anything if it
is trained in the right way. The trouble j,
Is that horses are not understood, and I (
consequently they arc condemned with- ' (
out cause. I can take a young colt and, j
even if it be nervous and shy, in two <
weeks’ time I can tire a canuon from its 1
'ack.”
“How can you do it in such a short j
space of time?”
“Easy enough, if you go about it in 1
the right way. A horse is totally ignor-1 j
ant when it is born, and so is a man. . £
They are both equal on the start, but a ; <
.nan’s brain develops and he can com- i'
prehend things by conversing with his j
fellow men. A horse cannot and he ■ j
must learn everything from observation.
Upon this plan I train my colts. When ■ j
I want to teach one to go back I push it i
back and at the same time cry ‘back.’ : [
After repeating that several times the I
animal learns what the word means, i j
md he will obey it instantly when it is
given. If I want him to follow me I
pursue the same course. Horses arc
taught tricks in this way and you can
make a colt paw the ground simply by
saying the word.”
“Can an old horse be taught?”
“Not very well, if they are over nine
years. They become like old people
and lose all aptitude for knowledge. The
hardest thing is to break an old horse of
shying at any particular object. A horse
once thoroughly frightened will never
forget it, and if ho sees the object of his
flight again you can depend upon a
broken wagon. About two years ago a
wealthy gentleman in Baltimore was
driving along when a man on a
bicycle dashed by and frightened the .
horse so that he ran away. I was sent
for to break him of the habit, ami I took
a bicycle and showed it to him in every
conceivable way. I placed it on his
back and whirled the wheels around in
Iront of him. The animal became ac
customed to it and understood that the
bicycle would not harm him, and after
chat he was not afraid A horse is an
animal of strong prejudices. He either
likes or dislikes a thing, and it is a dilli i
cult matter to break him of a prejudice '
it it be of long standing.”
“What kind of horses are the easiest j
to train?”
"Well, there is no breed of horsei that I
tin be considered more intelligent than
others, but if 1 wanted a horse to train
I would select an ordinary animal that,
showed signs of intelligence. Never
select a thoroughbred. By nature they
are restless and impatient, eager
to jump over an obstacle and al
ways anxious to dart away. An
intelligent horse, of no particular pedi
gree, will be more observing and will
look before he leaps. Circus horses are I
nearly all of an ordinary breed, slow, '
but deliberate in every movement. That
kind of a horse you can teach, but never
by whipping him. It is a great mistake
to suppose that you can compel a horse
to do anything. If he be obstinate you
can do more with him by trying to make
him do the opposite thing. I had a
horse once that I got for a very low tig- j
ure. It was a very fine animal, but it ■
had one great fault, it would stop just I
because it wanted to be contrary. I did
not attempt to beat it, but 1 just sat
down and let it see that I was not
anxious to go ahead, and it would start
too. Such a proceeding was very annoy
ing at times, but after a while the horse
forgot all about his bad habit, and it
was a very valuable animal.”
“What indications are there of intel
ligence about a horse?”
“Well, a good horse has small, point- I
ed ears, with a fine growth of hair on
the inside, with a broad head and very
broad between the eyes. Some intelli
gent horses have a narrow nose and thick
nostrils. Horses for family use should
have large brains. That denotes great
i intelligence and powers of endurance, i
A horse that is required for heavy work |
should have a short backbone and should '
be ‘closely jointed.’ Fine hair denotes a
long life.”
“Should ahorse be clipped during the
winter?”
“Well, that is a mooted question, j
Some horsemen contend that if a horse ;
becomes overheated and is allowed to re- !
main in the stable over night he is likely
to remain damp, but if he is clipped he ,
will soon dry off. That is all very well I
so far as it goes, but if care is taken with
a horse he will be rubbed dry before he
is put into the stable. Nature provides
, horses with a thick coat and Ido not
I think it is right to cut it off.”
“Are ponies easy to train?”
“No, they are very difficult animals to I
teach. They are frisky and full of play, I
and make better playthings than any
thing else. A real mustang is a knowing
little animal. It is wonderful the clever ;
tricks they do when they are on the prai
ries in the West. People do not believe
it, but the mulo is an intelligent animal.
He is slow and sometimes obstinate, but
can be trained to do some very clever
things. Trainers have not experimented
with mules very much, because they are
i handled by inexperienced drivers, and
arc used in carts, and at other rough
work. They are cautious and slow, and
for that reason they are very good for
mountainous districts; but make no mis
take, a mule has more intelligence than
he is given credit for.”
The Fastest Trotting Record.
A correspondent of the Chicago Jour
nal writes: The following is a statement
of the best trotting time on record at all
distances and at all ways of going:
Trotting in harness, one mile—Maud 8, at
Cleveland, August 2, 1884, 2:09 3-4—the fast
est mile ever trotted and the fastest first
hoet.
One mile—Maud S, at Buffalo, August 4,
1881; 2:10 3-4—the fastest second heat ever
trotted.
One mile—Maud S, at Chicago, July 23,
1881; 2:11 —the fastest third heat ever trotted.
One mile—Maud 8, at Chicago, July 24,
1880 ; 2:13 1-2—the fastest heat in races
against other horses.
One mile—Maud S,at Belmont Park,Phila
delphia, July 28, 1881:2:12, 2:13 1-4,2:12 1-2
—the fastest three consecutive heats ever
trotted.
One mile —Phallas, at Chicago, July 14,
1884; 2.13 3-4—the fastest fourth heat ever
trotted.
One mile—Smuggler, 'at Cleveland, July
27, 1870; 2:17 1-2—the fastest fifth heat ever
trotted.
Ono mile —Charlie Ford, at Hartford, Au
gust 25, 1880; 2-19 1-2-the fastest sixth heat
over trotted.
One mile by a yearling—Hinda Rose, at
San Francisco, November 24, 1881; 2:36 1-2
the best on record.
One mile by 2-year-old—Wild Flower, at
San Francisco, October 22, 1881; 3:2l—the
best on record.
Ono mile by 3-year-old—Hinda Rose, at
Lexington, Ky., October 10, 1883; 2:19 1-2
the fastest ever trotted at that age.
One mile by a 4 year-old—Benita, at Lex
ington, Ky., October 11,1883: 2:18 3-4.
One mile by a 5-year old—Jay-Eyo-Seo, at
Providence, September 15, 1883; 2:10 3-4
best on record.
One mile over half-mile track—Rarus, at
Toledo, July 20, 1878 ; 2:lo—it never was
beaten.
Ono mile—-Jay-Eye-Seo, at Belmont Park,
August 15,1.884—fastest two consecutive heats;
2:11 and 2:10 1-2.
One mile, fastest four consecutive heats—
Gloster, at Rochester, August 14, 1874; 2:18,
2:17 3 4. 2:17, 2:l9the first being a dead heat
with Re t Cloud; and Goldsmith Maid, at
Hartford, August 31, 1870; 2:16 3-4, 2:17 1-4,
2:18, 2:19 3-4, the first being a dead heat with
Smuggler.
Two miles—Monroe Chief, at Lexington,
October 21, 1882 ; 4:40.
Throe miles—Huntress, at Prospect Park,
| September 23, 1872; 7:21 1-4.
Four miles Trustee, at Union Course,
June 13, l.Sl'.i; 11:06'
Five miles—Lady Mack, at San Francisco,
April 2, 1874; 13:00.
Ten miles—Controller, at San Francisco,
November 23, 1878 : 27:23 1-4.
Twelve miles—Top Gallant,at Philadelphia,
1830 ; 38:00.
Fifteen miles—Girder, at San Francisco,
AugustO, 1874; 40:20.
Twenty miles—Captain McGowan, at Bos
ton, October 31, 180.3; 58:25.
Fifty miles—Ariel, at Albany, 1846;
3:55:40 1-2.
Ono hundred miles —Conqueror, at Long
Island, November 12, 1853 ; 8:55:53.
One hundred and one miles —Fanny Jenks,
I at Albany, 1845; 9:12:57.
To wagon—One mile—Hopeful, at Chicago,
j October 12, 4878 ; 2:16 1-2, the fastest heat
over trotted and the fastest first heat. One
I mile—Hopeful, October 12, 1878 ; 2:17, the
I fastest second heat. One mile—Hopeful,
I October 12, 1878; 2:17, tho fastest third heat
I One mile, drawing 2,000 pounds—Mountain
Maid, nt Long Island, 1805 ; 3:24 1-2. How
; is that for trotting! Two miles—General
i Butler at Long Island,Juno 18,1863,first heat,
4:50 1-4; Dexli'r, at Long Island, October 27,
1803, second heat. 4:50 1-4. Three miles —
Kimble Jackson, at Union Course, June 1,
18.33; 8:03. Founniles —Longfellow, at San
Francisco, December 31,1809; 10:34 1-2. Five
miles—Little Mack, at Fashion Course. Long
Island, October 29, IMVJ; 13:43 1-2. Twenty
miles—Controller,at San Francisco, April 20,
1878; 58:57. Fifty miles—Spangle, October
15. 1855 ; 3:59:04.
Trotting double teams, one hundred miles
Master Burke and Robin, 10:17:22.
Trotting under saddle: One mile —Great
i Eastern, at Fleetwood Bark, New York, Sep
tember 22, 1877; 2:15 3-1. Two miles—George
I M. Patehen, at Fashion Course, Long Island,
July 1. 1863: 4:50. Three miles—Dutchman,
at Beacon Course, New Jersey, August 1,
1839; 7:32 1 Four miles —Dutchman, at
Centerville, Long Island, May 18, 1836; 10:51
Now, Mr. Editor, people who owi
trotters can judge how good a one they
own by looking over the above record-
You often hear people say they have a
| horse that can trot twenty five miles an
hour without any trouble. Let them try
it.
Shells that Travel.
The great conch or strombus has a
veritable sword that it thrusts out, sticks
into the ground, and by muscular efforts
jerks itself along, making a decided
leap. The squids—that are the bright
est forms of mollusks—leap entirely clear
of tho water, often several feet. They
are ink-bearers, and from their ink-bag
comes the sepia used by artists, while
their bone is the cuttlefish bone of com
merce. Many of the cockels have a
method of flying through the water that
is quite novej. They are generally beau
tifully colored, and have long, streaming
tentacles,and suddenly, without warning,
they dart up from the bottom, and by a
violent opening and shutting of their
valves they rush away, with their long,
reddish hair streaming after them, pre
senting a very curious appearance. The
shell known as the Lina Nians is partic
ularly remarkable for these flights, and
all the scallops are jumpers and leapers.
When placed in a boat they have been
known to leap out, and the ordinary
scallop has been known to jump out of
a pot when placed upon a stove.
The Russian Army.
The strength of the Russian army on a
war footing, according to the returns of
the ministry of war, was as follows in
1883:
REGULAR ARMY.
Infantry 1,970,801
Cavalry 95,560
Artillery 211,708
Engineers 43,407 2,321,476
IRREGULAR ARMY.
Infantry 9,610
Cavalry 158,270
Artillery 12,700 180,580
Grund total 2,502,056
Among the irregular troops of Russia
the most important are lhe Cossacks.
A resident of Stockton, Cal., died re
cently of lockjaw, being the last of four
brothers, all of whom died of the same
affliction.
TOPICS OF THE DAT.
Engineering in China has certainly
achieved a notable triumph in the
bridge at Lagang over an arm of tho
China sea. This structure is five miles
long, built enirely of stone, has 300
arches, 70 feet high; the roadway is
70 feet wide, and the pillars are 75
feet apart.
The Pacific Medical Journal, refer
ring a recent writer who asserts that
Maine lumbermen are free from dys
pepsia because they are in the habit of
using chewing gum, says that “if he
would add to his suggestion of chew
ing gum that of becoming a lumber
man, the remedy would be very ef
fective.”
Some of the Japanese almost wor
ship cats. A feline funeral in great
style is reported by a correspondent.
The coffin of the defunct pussy was cov
ered with a white silk pall, and a body
of chanting priests followed the cor
tege to the grave. In due course of
time a monument was erected,on which
were inscribed the many virtues of the
cat.
Russia has more soldiers and more
ships of war than any other country
in the world. In her standing army
there are 780,000 men, and she has 358
ships in her navy. It costs $125,000,-
000 a year to keep her military estab
lishment on a peace footing, and her
military authorities say they can place
2,300,000 trained men under arms in
war time.
There are about 125 German recruits
in the Chinese army,all of whom have
been compelled to adopt Chinese names,
such as Wang Li Triang or the Great
Wall. The pay of these recruits is
very high, ranging from S2OO to S3OO a
month; and in addition the Chinese
government has promiabd to pay to the
representative of any German who
may be killed in action the sum of
SOOOO. Recruits are also called for in
the Chinese navy, the inducement be
ing an annual salary of $3600 and a
life policy for a large amount.
Temperance work in Great Britain
is carried on with great vigor. The
Church of England Temperance So
ciety has branches in thirty of the
thirty-two dioceses and a membership
of nearly 600,000. The Church of
Ireland has a strong society, as have
also the Wesleyans, Free Methodists,
Congregationalists and the several rail
way companies. There are many
Bands of Hope, some of which have a
total abstinence membership of 15,-
000 and 20,000 each. Eleven of the
leading temperance societies had an
income last year of over $250,000, all
of which was expended in temperance
work.
Deistarianism is a new religion for
mulated by Marvin Fosdick, of Kala
mazoo, .Mich. It seems to have struck
out a new path in its religious vocabu
lary. Its congregations, when it gets
them, will be known ;s “polimons;’’
its preachers are to be called “denzees.”
A church service is a “doktil.” “I)o
--tem” means to preach; "lokan” is a
s ermon; “I’ote” is God; “stian” is a
church building, and the salary of the
“denzee” is known as “valoon.” Mr
Fosdick has also adopted a new chro
nology and a new method of spelling
to go with his religion. As for his re
ligion itself, it is based largely on the
moral law as revealed by the con
science, and repudiates all the distinc
tive doctrines of Christianity, such as
baptism, prayer, the Bible and Christ.
The author states that the Deistarian
religion is the best religion for this
life, and as good as any for the life to
come. lie publishes a call for “den
zees, ’ but none who use tobacco or in
toxicating liquors, or who gamble, are
eligible to this office.
“Oil-Scouting.”
“Oil-scouting” is an iudustrj’ devel
oped by the wildcat enterprises in the
oil regions of Pennsylvania during the
past two or three years. Tho owners
of a well frequently make a “mystery”
of it, by boarding up the derrick and
guarding it night and day. They are
thus enabled to keep to themselves all
knowledge as to its value as a producer,
and thus to operate in the certificate
■ irket from an advantageous stand-
: it. When a well in what is con
red an important new territory is
!e a mystery, the brokers and other
i ators at once become anxious to
<.uow whether it is really a good pro
ducer or only a “dry hole.” To obtain
this information, they employ men
thoroughly skilled, in all matters per
taining to the oil industry, and pos
sessing courage, endurance and shrewd
ness, to scout around the mystery
wells and learn their true character.
These men use strategy, bribery, and
even force, to gain their ends. They
compile statistics of production, the
state of field operations, probabilities
of now territory, and all matters of in
terest or importance to the newspapers,
brokers, and large producing firms.
Some work for salaries running as
high as SSO per week, while others re
ceive a share in the profits which may
result from operations based upon the
information obtained by them. In
this way some have made considerable
fortune, almost at a stroke. Their
work is of a particularly dangerous
nature, as the men who guard the
wells are armed with rifles, and under
positive orders to shoot any one dis
covered loitering about the propeity
at night.