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LONG-LIVED PEOPLE. Fcntures of a Classified llccortl of len Thousand Centenarians. A Syracuse (N. Y.) letter to the New York Tribune snys : Joseph E. Perkins, a newsdealer of this city, is about to publish a book entitled “The Encyclo pedia of Human Longevity,” which is the result of thirty-eiget years of inves tigation on his part. The book will con tain an authentic record of a large num ber of people, men and women, who have attained the age of one hundred years or more. The only exception to this is the case of a man who died at the age of ninety-nine years and three hun dred and sixty-four days, and whom Mr. Perkins regards as virtually a centena rian. The book will represent an im mense amount oi labor and research, and its author believes that it may be relied on as accurate in every instance. “I have,” said Mr. Perkins, in speak ing >i his book, •more than 10,000 in stances of people who have lived one hundred years and more. These names have been gathered from every part of the globe. This country leads in lon gevity, and Connecticut is at the front, among the United States. In that Statu I have gathered statistics in regard to more than 6,000 persons who were more than eighty years of age, and of this number twenty were beyond the century limit. As regards sex the majority ot these 20,000 centenarians were women. I account for this by the fact that they lead less irregular lives than men. I have instances of fifty old maids who come up to my century standard, and only twelve bachelors. As regards oc cupation I find that sailors, soldiers and farmers are the longest lived. Among the professions I have the instances of 100 ministers who lived to one hundred years and more, while I could find only thirty doctors, ten lawyers and ten actors whe came up to the standard. I can find no case among my 10,000 of a news paper man who has lived to be one hun dred years old. Newspaper men do so much brain work that they die young.” Coming to special instances, Mr. Per kins added: “Among the oldest people in the United States wore Flora Thomp son, a Degress of Nashua, N. C., who died at the age of IbOyears; Betsy Fraut ham, a native of Germany, who died in Tennessee at the age of 154 years; and bins, a slave, who died in Virginia, 180 years old. I have the cases of ten per sons who lived in safety for 100 years and ■were then burned to death. In Onondaga county 1 hive the sketches of fifty centenarians. Among them is the Rev. Daniel Waldo, who Hied in 1864 nt the age of nearly 102 years. For more than sixty years he was a clergyman in the Presbyterian church, and on the anni versary of his 100th birthday he preached a sermon in the First Presbyterian church of Syracuse, The last six pensioners of the Revolutionary war were centenarians mil 1 have their photographs. Then there was John Weeks, of New London, Conn,, who ni.iriied his tenth wife when lie was loti years of age and sl.e only six teen. lie died at the age of 114. His gray hairs had fallen oil and they were renewed by a dark growth of hair. Several new teeth had also made their appearance, and a few hours before his death he ate three pounds of pork, two or three pounds of bread, and drank a pint of wine. Nicholas Scjiathcowski, of Posen, was another old fellow. He deposed on oath before the council of Constance, A. D. 1111, that lie was one hundred and fifty years of age, and that his father, whose age at the time of his death was nearly two hundred, could remember the death of the first king of Poland,. A. D. ll'-’l. Among .the oddi ties to be found in my book will be the photograph of a man who died at the age of one hundred and twenty one years. He had 111 children, grandchil dren, and great grandchildren, and out lived them all. Then there was Margaret Mtdlowal, of Edinburgh, who died at the age of one hundred and six. She married and survived thirteen husbands. John Bovin and his wife, of Hungary, lived together as man and wife for 148 years. He was one hundred and sixty four and she one hundred and seventy two years at the time they died, and their youngest son was one hundred and sixteen years old when the parents died, “Then there is the case of a man who married sixteen times and had no chil dren. This case is offset by that of another centenarian who had forty nin ,! children. John Riva, an exchange bro ker of Italy, lived to the age of one hun. dred and sixteen years and had a child born to him after he was one hundred years old. Betz, a Sioux squaw, who died a little while ago, lived for more than one. hundred years. She had been the wife in turn of an army officer, an Indian chief, a border high wayman, and a Methodist minister. William Ward, of Westchester county. N. Y., died in 1778 at the age of 107. JJe was a member of the Ward family who were among the earliest settlers in Westchester county, and the particulars of his life and death were given in th e New York papers of the time. His brother John was a magistrate, and at tended court in White Plains, N Y., as late as 1773. Another queer incident is that of a centenarian who was married four times and had a daughter by each wife. These daughters married and each of them had fourteen children. Then there was a man who went over the cen tury line and had twenty-two children. His first was a boy. and girls and boys came after that in regular rotation. There was a person known as Elizabeth Page, who lived in London, and died at the age of 108 years. This person had acted as a midwife, and was supposed to be a woman. After death, however, it was discovered that the supposed woman was a man.” The wheat crop of Colorado will this year amount to nearly 3,000,000 bushels. alette. VOL. XII. SUMMERVILLE. GEORGIA. WEDNESDAY EVENING. SEPTEMBER 16.1885. NO. 35. Three Lovers. There were three maidens who loved a King; They sat together beside the sea; One cried, “I love him, and I would dio If but for a day he might love mo.” Hie second whispered, “And I would die To gladden his heart or make him great.” The third one spoke no!, but gazed afar With dreamy eyes that were sad as fate. The King he loved the first for a day; Tho second his life with fond love blessed, \nd yet the woman who never spoke Waft the one of the three who loved him best. The Mysterious Hand. Do not think for a moment that I could ever have seen anything super human in the occurrence. 1 do not believe in any but normal causes. If, l.owever, instead of using the word | "supernatural” to express what we do > not understand, we should use simply the word “inexplicable,” it would be much more exact In the affair I am about to relate, it was, above all, the preceding and attending circumstances 1 hat impressed me. I will give you the facts. I was examining magistrate at the time at Ajicco, a little white city ly ing on the edge of a beautiful bay, which is surrounded on all sides by high mountains. Tho cases with which I had chiefly to do were those of vendetta. I had some fierce, heroic instances, the most superbly dramatic possible. Among those people were found tho most glorious causes for re venge that men could dream of—secu lar hatreds, appeased for a moment, but never extinguished, traitorous ruses, assassinations developed into mai sacres, and almost glorious in their horror. For two years I had heard of nothing but the price of blood, that terrible Corsican prejudice which binds a man to avenge every injury on the person who wrought it, his de scendants and kinsmen. I had seen old men and children murdered, and my head was full of such stories. I learned one day that an English man had just leased for a number of years a little villa at the. foot of the bay. Ho hat brought with him a French body-servant, engaged at Mar seilles as he passed. Everybody was soon busy with this strange person age, who lived alone, and left his dwel ling only to hunt or fish. He spoke to nobody, never came to the city, and every morning practiced shooting for an hour or t wo with his pistol or rille. There were many stories about him. One man held that he was of princely rank, and had lied his conntiy for po litical reasons; another affirmed that ho was lying in concealment after hav ing committed a fearful crime, and even related particulars of an especial ly horrible nature. I wished, in my capacity of examin ing magistrate, to obtain some definite information in regard to this man, but I could learn nothing. II i gave his name as Sir John Rowell. I took sat isfaction in watching him near at hand, but no one could point out to me anything really suspicious about him. Since, however, the rumors concern ing him continued, increased, and be came more general, I resolved to make an attempt to see the stranger my self, and 1 began to hunt regularly in the neighborhood of his estate. I waited long for an opportunity. It came finally in the shape of a par tridge which I shot and killed in the Englishman’s face. My dog brought it to me, but taking the game in my hand, I went to excuse my lack of good manners and beg Sir John Row ell to accept the bird. He was a large man, with red hair and beard, very tall and very robust, a sort of placid and polished Hercules. He had nothing of the so-called Brit ish stiffness, and he thanked me cor dially, speaking with a strong English accent, for my scrupulousness. At the end of a month we had talked five or six times together. One evening as I was passing his door I saw him in his garden smok ing his pipe, astride of a chair. I sa luted him, and he invited me in. I lid not wait to be asked twice. He received me with scrupulous English courtesy, eulogized France and Corsica, and declared that he was warmly attached to that country and to that particular portion of the coast. I then, with great caution and under the guise of a very lively persona! in terest, ventured a few questions re garding his life. He replied without embarrassment, telling me that he had travelled extensively in Africa, India, and America, and that he had had many adventures. I then turned to the subject of the chase, and he gave me many of the most curious details in regard to hunt ing the hippopotamus, the tiger, the elephant, and even the gorilla. I remarked that all these animals were formidable. He smiled. “Oh, no; man is the most terrible.” He laughed outright, with a hearty, contented English laugh, as he fur ther informed me ; “I have also been a great hunter of men.” Then he turned the conversation to the topic of arms, and invited me to the house to look at guns of different kinds. His drawing-room was hung with | black silk embroidered with gold, i Large yellow flowers, rioting over the dark background, shone like fire. Ho explained that it was a Japanese fab ric. But in the middle of the largest panel, a strange object drew my eye. On a square of red velvet a black ob ject was thrown into relief. It was a hand—a human hand. Not a skeleton hand, white and clean, but a dried and i blackened hand, with yellow nails, ■ naked muscles, and traces of blood— ■ old, clotted blood, where the bones were cut short off as it with the blow I of an ax, about midway up the fore i arm. An enormous iron chain, rivet ed at the wrist, soldered to this un sightly member, attached it to the wall by a ring strong enough to hold an elephant in leash. “What is that?” I asked. “That is my worst enemy,” replied the Englishman, calmly. “He camo from America. It was cut off with a saber, skinned and dried in the sun for a week. It was a pretty good piece of work for me.” I touched that human fragment, which must have belonged to a giant. The fingers, disproportionately long, were attached by enormous tendons, to which shreds of skin still clung. Scorched as it was, it was a frightful thing to behold, suggesting irresistibly . ! some savage revenge. i “He must have been a very strong man,” said I. “Oh, yes,” said tho Englishman, gently. “But 1 was stronger than ho. I had that chain put on to hold him.” I thought he was jesting, and said: “The chain is wholly useless now; the hand will not run away.” But ho gravely replied : “The chain was necessary. It was always trying to get away.” With a rapid glance I question ed his countenance, asking myself : “Is he a lunatic or an ugly jester?” But his face remained impenetrable, calm, and benevolent. I talked of other things, and admired his guns. 1 no i tioed that three loaded revolvers lay On ■ the tables, as if this man lived in con stant fear of an attack. I visited him several times and then I went there no more. People had be come accustomed to his presence and grown indifferent. A whole year passed. Thon one morning, toward the end of Novem ber, my servant awoke me with the announcement that Sir John Rowell had been assassinated in the night. Half an hour later, with the central commissary and a captain of the sol diery, I entered the Englishman's house. His servant, bewildered and , ' despairing, was weeping before the I door. I suspected him at first, but he ' was innocent. The guilty man never could be found. , As I entered Sir John’s sitting-room I saw at the first glance his body t stretched out on its back in the middle of the fioor. His waistcoat was torn, one torn sleeve of his coat was hang ing; all told that a terrible struggle , had taken place. He had died of strangulation I His terrible countenance, black and swol , len, seemed to express an abominable fear ; he held something between his set teeth, and his neck, pierced in a hundred spots, as if with iron points, t was covered with blood. A physician joined us. He examined long and closely the marks of fingers in the flesh of the dead man’s throat, and spoke these strange words: t “One would say that he had been s strangled by a skeleton.” A shudder crept over my back, and j I raised my eyes to the wall, to the place where I had formerly seen the horrible, shriveled hand. It was no [ longer there. The chain hung broken. Then I leaned over the dead man, s and found in his distorted mouth one ; of the fingers of that missing hand, cut, or radier sawed, off bv his teeth ■> j close to the second joint. They proceeded to make investiga r tions, but discovered' nothing. No door or window had been forced, no article of furniture moved. The two t watchdogs had not been awakened. , The testimony of the servant could be summed up in a few words. His master had seemed agitated for a month past. He had received and , burned many letters. Often seizing a ’ horsewhip, with fury that resembled madness, he had lashed that dried hand ; chained to the wall, which had been removed, no one knew how, at the j very hour of the crime. It was his habit to retire early at night and to lock himself in with care. He always had weapons within his reach. He often talked very loud in rhe night, as if quarrelling with some body. That night it chanced that ho had made no sound, and it was only on coming to open the windows in the morning that the servant had found Sir John assassinated. Ho suspected nobody. 1 reported to the magistrates and | public officers all I knew about the death, and a minute inquiry was pros ecuted over the whole island. Noth ing was discovered. One night, about three months af ter the crime, I had a fearful night mare. I seemed to seo that hand, running like a scorpion or a spider over my curtains and walls. Three times I awoke, and throe times on go ing to sleep again I saw the hideous member running about my room, moving its fingers like feet. The next day it was brought to me. It had been found in the cemetery on the grave of Sir John Rowell. The forefinger was gone. This is my story, and I know noth ing more about it. Had lan explanation to suggest it would but overthrow your wild imag inings, and would not bo likely to find acceptance with you. My belief is sim ply that the lawful owner of the hand was living, and had come in search of it with tho one that remained to him. But I have not been able to picture to my satisfaction tho manner of his re venge.—From the French. An Oriental Hospital for Animals. The Jains, like other Buddhists, have a strong respect for all animal life, not only that which is beautiful, but that which is weak, helpless, and i even hideous. The hospital is but one evidence of this. The visitor describes ! the scone as both ludicrous and pa i thetic. “The monkey part of the hos pital was tho most entertaining. A big ape supported itself on crutches; another sick inmate was lying stretch ed full length on tho floor, gazing most piteously into tho keeper’s face. It seemed to be an object of deep in terest to all tho other monkeys who clustered around it. The native doc tor shook his head solemnly, and if it had been a human being ho could not have said more tenderly that she was dying. In these compartments were collected, as it almost seemed, every known quadruped ami biped on the face of the globe. Old elephants, di lapidated buffaloes, deplumed ravens, vultures, and buzzards hobnobbled to gether with gray-bearded goats and most foolish-looking rams; rats, mice, rabbits, hens, herons, lame ducks, for j lorn old cocks, and sparrows, jackals, I old owls, and geese, live here in har mony side by side. 1 have been shown through palaces which interested me less. We waited to see this curious : medley of inmates dine. When the food which suited each class was being conveyed by a band of attendant boys to their various troughs, pens, etc., the noise and confusion were deafen ing. The monkeys in particular, with the peacocks—birds the most sacred to the Hindus and Jaina—raised such a howl and were so importunate -to be served first that we were glad to es cape. Such is the extreme to which ■ Oriental charity is carried. But, after all, there is something very noble and touching about this ‘infirmary’ for tho brute creation. Every one who finds any animal wounded, sick, aged, or dying, is authorized to bring it here; and here it is really well cared for un til death comes to relieve it from all suffering. Who can estimate the power of an institution that is, contin ually caring for dumb mutes of the animal kingdom, who bear not only man’s burdens, but bis harshness and neglect, with tho patience of almost sanctified beings.” A Dollar’s Worth. The one mitigating circumstance about hard times and low wages is the increased purchasing power of a dollar. The Boston Commercial lDilletin has ( been figuring on the subject, and comes to the conclusion that $1 will buy its much of the necessaries of life to-day as $1.35 in 1875, $1.32 in 1855, 91 cents in 1815, and §1.16 in 1825. In other words, the purcha sing power of a dollar is 1 9 per cent, greater than it was in 1825, and 32 per cent, greater than it was in 1855. A dollar will buy more to-day than in most pre , vious periods in the hit of the , nation.— Lowell, Mass., Courier. Signs of Affection. a sign of affection, kissing was unknown to the Australians, the New Zealanders, the Papuans; the Exqui maux and other races. The Polyne -1 sians and the Malays always sit down when speaking to a superior. l ' The inhabitants of Mallicolo, an island in tho Pacific Ocean, show their ad -1 miration by hissing; the Exquimaux pull a persons nose as a compliment; ■ a Chinaman puts on his hat where we should take it off, and among the same 1 curious people a coffin is considered 1 as a neat and appropriate present for ' an aged person, especially if the age' 1 person is in bad health. HEWN OUT OK SOLID ROCK India’s Wonderful Temple- Cave of Karli. A Mavelous Structure that One would Take for a Superb Cathedral. The temple-cave of Karli, says a letter to the New Y r ork Independent, is an illustration of the fearful lapse of the ethnic faiths of Pagan India. The monks of Albania and other regi ons between the Adriatic and the zEgean Sea, dug out many a cell in the early days, and honey-combed vast regions, where they spent their lives, and were laid away when the long monotony was over. The Karli cave-temple is very differ ent in construction. It is by far the finest in India. To reach it, you take the train from Bombay, and go nearly a hundred miles eastward, on the general line to Calcutta. From Khandala to the Karli cave-temple we had a ride of five miles on horseback. It was not long before we were com pelled to leave the carriage road, and take a path through the fields, toward the range of mountains on our left, and by tho time wo were getting accustomed to the path, wo had to leave our horses, and begin climbing in downright earnest. Now, a climb in India, even to see its finest temple cave, is not a little thing. My white pith-hat, with turban of light cloth folded about it, and then a double umbrella, of gray cloth, white within, seemed to help but little in keeping off the pressure of the heat on a late day ot tho Indian November. When we reached the cool and shaded vestibule and threw ourselves down on the first broken stones wo saw, and looked up into the face of the colossal stone god dess who sat on an elephant of stone, j we were glad enough to rest. The temple walls, and every part of i their adorning sculpture, are hewn out of tho stone mountain. Were there no statuary of pagan deities, no reminders of an early worship, and were the country any other than In dia, one would take this wonderful structure for a superb cathedral. Not many serious changes would need to be made in order to convert into an English minster. The cave is 124 feet long, forty-five feet broad, and I forty-six feet from floor to ceiling. There are aisles on either side of the temple, separated from the nave by octagonal pillars. The capital of each pillar is crowned with two kneeling elephants, on whose backs are seated two figures, representing the divinities to whom the temple is dedicated. These are of beautiful features, as, indeed, are all tho representations of deities in the Karli cave-temple. There is nothing of that repulsive sculpture which one sees at Puna and in other modern Hindu pagodas. I saw no figures which were in part human and in part beast-like. Each was true to its class, from vestibule back to altar. The altar, and the place where it stands, keep up the re semblance to a Christian church. Be hind it there are seven pillars, which separate it from what, in a church, would correspond with the choir. There are a’together thirty-eight col umns in the temple. The grandest is the large lion pillar in front, which has sixteen sides, and is surmounted I with four lions. All this great recess has been cut i from the solid rock, which seems to be ! nothing softer than porphyry itself. I The statuary is in massive relief, and consists of figures also cleft from the rock, like Thorwaldsen’s lion, in Lu cerne. The great pillars are chastely proportioned columns, both base and capital proving that they have not been introduced, but, like all other I portions of the temple, h ive been cut from the solid mass of which the whole mountain consists. They are part and parcel of floor and ceiling. | There is an outward porch, or vesti bule, fifty-two feet wide and fifteen i feet deep, and on the heavy molding above there are figures of a man, a ; woman and a dwarf. All this, too, like the whole spacious temple itself, has been patiently cut from firm rock. The only thing which is not of na tive rock is a wooden covering or ceil i ing. This has been the puzzle of all the toilers in Indian archaeology, and ' they seem to-day to be no nearer a solution of the difficulty than when 1 they began. The entire immediate covering of the temple is teak, a native wood, almost the only one ’ I which resists the white ant and every 1 ' Indian insect. Getting Things Mixed. Her head win pillowed on his breast and looking up in a shy way she said: “Do you know, dear Georgs, that—” “You mean dear James, 1 think,” he i interrupted, smiling fondly at her ' mistake. 1 “Why, yes, to be sure. How stupid I am! I was thinking this is Wednes day evening.”— New Xork Sum, Home Life of tho Anamese. The Ana in ese are not shining exam pies of the domestic virtue, says a Globe Democratic Correspondent: Neither have they in their intercourse with one another that bland and self-deny ing politeness which characterizes the social relations of the Japanese in such an eminent degree. Both men and women will discount a London fish wife in the matter of objurgation. I have seen two women leaning out of respective doorways on opposite sides of the narrow streets of Hanoi, making the welkin ring with vile reproaches and insults, while the listening neigh, borhood smiled and applauded. The fire on domestic hearthstones can not be expected to burn brightly under dripping roofs of thatch and drafty walls of palm or bamboo mat ting. It is hard to tell whether the husband or wife rules the roost, though doubtless, as in civilized coun. tres, it Is sometimes the one and sometimes the other. 1 have seen a husband chastise his erring wife with his fist in the streets of Haiphong, while in Hanoi, where the native pop ulation is expected to retire early, I have seen a husband who stayed out till half-past eight o’clock squatted at the door of his home, humbly begging to be admitted, with every prospect of having to spend the night in that hu miliating attitude. At Sontay I have also seen an aged crone pursue her in dolent and servile lord into a, crowded thoroughfare and lead him back anil compel him to resume some household drudgery which he had shamefully endeavored to evade. Between hus band and wife, therefore, so far as the subjection of either Is concerned, the honors may be considered easy. Mar riage is a sort of social compact, man aged on tho part of the young woman iby her mother. It is more than any tiling else among the common class a j matter of bargain and sale. With foreigners the marriage de conven ance prevails as in China, the mother selling tho daughter to the stranger for a stipulated sum per month. There are no occupations in which young girls can be profitably employed beside taking care of the superfluous child ren of the family, except sometimes to j assist at the hereditary labor or trade* :or to learn the minstrel business, [ thrum the guitar and sing in tho fash ion of the country—a fashion, as in Japan, adopted from the Chinese many years ago. The Tenacious Turtle. A recent letter to the New York Sun says: The account published in the Swn of a fight between two tur tles in Big Walker Pond, near Shoho la, Penn., and tho relation of the sin gular tenacity of life shown by tho head of one of the turtles even after decapitation, brings a gentleman from Huguenot, N. Y., to the front with a story of an even more wonderful case. In this instance the gentleman and his brother had been spearing fish at i night in a river near their home. When returning they saw in the water a large turtle of the snapping variety. In an instant the spear went down, and between the prongs, when it came up, was the neck of the turtle. Tho reptile was lifted out on the bank, and the spear pressed down in the soil.' The head was then cut off and left fast to the spear, which remained sticking in the ground until morning, the turtle being taken home. Next morning the spear was wanted, and one of the youngsters about the farm brought it in, bearing it aloft with the Head of the turtle still remaining between the prongs. It was set down in the door-yard, and remained there until nearly noon. About that time I an inquisitive chicken began picking !at the head of the turtle. Suddenly the mouth opened and again collapsed, and between the jaws was the head of the inquiring chicken. It was even ing before the strength had left the jaws of the turtle sufficiently to allow the chicken’s release. The chicken’s head had been crushed, and the poor little fellow was dead. This is believ ed to be the most remarkable case on record, where gangliac motion has been retained for nearly twenty-four hours. A Good Reason. “No, gentlemen,” exclaimed a mid dle-aged man, who was talking to a crowd on Austin avenue, “nothing in the world could induce me to allow one of my children to enter a school room for the reason that ” “You hire a teacher to come to the house,” interrupted one of the crowd.’ “No, it’s not that. It’s because —’’ “They are t oo sickly to go to school,” exclaimed another, excitedly. “No, that’s not the reason, either. No child of mine shall ever attend school, because ” “Because you don't want them to be smarter than their daddy.” “No, gentlemen, the reason is be cause I’ve net got any children.” j Siftings. WORDS OF WISDOM. Energy insures success in business. The great use of books is to rouse us to thought. Happiness, like youth and health, is | rarely appreciated until it is lost. There is nothing so sweet as duty, and all the best pleasures of life come in the wake of duties done. There is nothing lower than hypocrisy. To profess friendship and act enmity is a sure proof of total depravity. On the diffusion of education among the people rests tho preservation and perpetuation of our free institutions. We should never wed an opilaiou for better or for worse; what we take upon good grounds we should lay down upon better. There is a beautiful moral feeling con nected with everything in rural life, which is not dreamed of in the philoso phy of the city. Never was any person remarkably un- ' grateful who was not also insufferably proud, nor any one proud who was not equally ungrateful. Simple emotion will not suffice to ele vate the character or improve the life. There must be power of self-denial, strength of will, persevering effort. Everybody is making mistakes. Every body is finding out afterward that he has made a mistake. But there can be no greater mistake than the stopping to worry over a mistake already made. There are no little enemies; people either bate you with their whole hearts, or they don't hate you at all. This hating a little is like blowing up a pow der mill a little, for all know it cannot be done. As a tree is fertilized by its own broken brunches and falling leaves, and grows out of its decay, so men and na tions are bettered and improved by trial, and relined out of bitter hopes and blighted expectations. A man is spent by his work; he will not lilt his hand to save his life; he can never think more. He sinks into pro found sleep and wakes with renewed youth, with hope, courage, fertile in re sources and keen for daring adventure. Fleecing the Farmers. “Here's a notice of a note I’ve got to pay that 1 had much rather use to choke a Chicago dude with,” said an angry farmer as he started off toward the bank with the piece of paper rolled up with a hundred and twenty dollars with which to redeem the note. “What’s a Chicago dude got to do with it?” “A good deal. I’ve got to pay this $l2O and interest at one per cent, a month for six months for about S3O worth of cloth. But I’m not alone. There’s comfort in that. Misery dots love company, it shows a fellow isn’ the only fool in the world, which fur nishes more consolation to me than you might think. “Oh, you want to know about this Chicago fellow, do you? Well, last summer and fall the fellow came hero from Chicago to sell a lot of goods be longing to a busted dry goods firm. He didn’t sell tho stuff in Denver, but went among the farmers. He had the glib best tongue I ever heard wag, and lie was actually the best and most accom modating fellow I ever saw. “A peddler would starve to death out in our neighborhood, but this pesky sin ner sold a lot of goods to every one of my neighbors. He carried a large amount of cloth with him, and went through the same programme everywhere he went, I remember perfectly well how he confi denced me. He had a large amount of cloth, and said he was agent for an im mense stock of bankrupt goods. He got me and my folks to look at them, and told us he could let us have them at wholesale price, and that a set of tailors were following him, and would mane up the goods without extra cost to us, so we could get our clothing at about half of the usual price. Not only that. He didn't care for the money now. Thatcould be paid in two or three or six months, just as I wished about it. There never had been such a glorious chance to save a few dollars. The goods were evidently very cheap. He showed me how much they had been marked downs “I got enough for a complete suit for each of the boys, and additional goods until my bill reached $l2O. Then he brought out a book full of blank notes and filled one out forme to sign, explain ing all the time that he liked to accom modate people. Then he paid seventy live cents for dinner, saying that he would not beat; he charged me for his goods and wanted to pay for mine. He was the best fellow you ever saw. “But the tailor didn't come. I talked the matter over with my neighbors and we investigated and found that we had got about one third tho worth of our money. Me also found that the notes we gave were such that wc would be compelled to pay them. They had been prepared with an eye to an emergency like this. We couldn’t find our glib friend; he bad indorsed the not os over to his firm, and gone to new pastures green. The notes were left with one of our home banks, and the last sinner of us have had to pay. He never accepted a note except where it was backed by property. Over twenty farmers that I know of have had to pay or will have to pay soon, and every one of them were swindled. I have heard of more than a hundred of the notes, and suppose that they repre sent but a small part of the fraud’s opera tions.- Y'ou can put it down that the next ‘agent’ that comes along will meet with anything but a lucrative business,” and the indignant ranchman went off to denounce the swindle at the bank, accuse that honorable institution with standing n with the Chicago dude, and to pay the note.— Denver {Cd.) Times.