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ENNUI. As tli is is a ilny when slothful time Drafts onward with laggard feet, I’ll venture upon a hit of rhyme, And see it 'twill fly more licet. I’ve rend and worked, embroider!ed and talked, Engaged in tenuis game; The length of the lone piazzas walked; But everything ends Urn same. It is wearisome gazing thro’ space At the drifting wreaths of mist, Bike a euKaln .’er the mountain’s face Which at worn tlie sunlight kissed. There’s Belle, of whom all the beaux are fond, Equipped for a hnckboard ride : She’s liven invited to X'ehble Pond By that young prig at her side. Who never disputes her sovereign will! Although she's demure and coy, She governs without genius or skill, And plays with him like a toy There was never a chapeau, so sweet As the one that crowns her head! The boots that encase her dainty feet Cost fifteen dollai’S—’tis said: But bonnets and boots and buckboard rides— And everything else to-day From Bernstein’s waltzes to Lander’s glides— My spirits fail to make gay. Then since the whole creation seems dull, It is plain as plain can be. That the reason that no pleasures I cull, Is all because of ennui. - Evelyn Kimball Johnson. A GOOD STORY. A Broken-Legged Man Stands Small Chance Against a Bloodhound. From the .Veu' York Sun. In crossing the Strand, London, I dodged the pole of one vehicle just in time to be struck by the shafts of another, and, as the pavement was slippery, I went down, and the vehicle went over me, breaking my left leg below the knee. An hour later I was in my bachelor apartments (the work of the surgeon finished), and feeling that I ought to be thankful to have come off with my life. I was in for a siege of many weeks, and I had some business which must be at tended to by an outsider. Therefore, after a day or two, I sent for Capt. Jack Williams, an old acquaintance. He an swered promptly enough, and we soon made very satisfactory arrangements. He was a bluff, honest fellow, out of active service, and having nothing to do, and the only unpleasant feature about his friendship was the fact of his owning a monster Rus sian bloodhound. The brute was his shadow. Where the dog could not go the Captain would not go. He refused all parties anil receptions because of the dog. He refrained from excursions by land or sea because he would be temporarily separated from Czar, as he called the animal. The pair were well known in London, and the Captain was as safe at midnight in the slums as any other man would be in the Strand at noonday. One glance at the dog was enough to show that he was as dangerous as a tiger. He made no friends either among dogs or men, and had miraculously escaped a dozen well laid traps to firing about his death. I hated Czar, and on two or three occa sions I had reason to believe that the feeling was returned. When the Captain called and found me laid up, he had sense enough to that the presence of the brute might annoy me, and he therefore shut him up in the servant's room for a few minutes. The dog was usually prompt in obedience. On this occasion he obeyed" in a grudging, sulky manner, and before lea'ving the room threatened me so plainly that I became ap prehensive. The Captain agreed that Czar should not enter my sick room again, and .in a couple of weeks I had forgotten all alxitif the incident. I had apartments on the second floor, three rooms in a row, with a hall along the front of tha last two. The first room was for my servant, a man who had been with me for many years. The next was the re ception room, and the third my sleeping room. One coming down the hall could enter at the door of either room. The bed room and reception room were connected, but the servant’s room was entirely shut off It was a hot day in August, with” all doors and windows open, I was feeling pretty smart, although the pain was considerable, and a couple of my friends had just departed, after a brief call, when Henry, my servant, came in to see what he could do for me. I was flat on my back, as you know, with no chance to turn over on account of the leg, but I had him prop me up with two or three pillows. I then sent him for ice. He had but a few stops to go, and the doors were left open be hind him. He had been gone about free minutes when in walked Capt. Williams’ Russian blood-hound. I shouldn’t have said walked; on the contrary, he came running in, head up, tongue out, and his eyes as red as live coals. I saw him the moment he entered, and it passed through my brain like a flash that he was mad. The door leading into the hall was opened. Twice as the dog circled around the room he seemed on the point of going out, but each time changed his mind, whined in an uneasy >vay, and then continued his circling. He did not look for me nor at me. It was a large room, with the bed against the wall, ana from the way the bmte bumped against the chairs I believed he was nearly blind. He hod been with me two or three minutes when the hall door was caught by a draught of wind and slowly pulled to. It did not quite shut. The dog noticed the movement, sprang to get out, and the result was that ho pushed the door shut and snapped the spring lock. The door lead ing into the reception room was still open, but the door from that into the hail was shut. The animal rushed into this room, upset a chair and bumped the table, and then came back whining, his tail down and liis courage gone, and slunk under my bed. That the dog was suffering with hydro phobia there could be no doubt. As he re turned from the reception room there wus foam on his jaws, and he was so weak he staggered. Had I been a well man and fully armed my situation would have been bad enough. There I was, perfectly helpless, locked in with the brute, and knowing it might be hours before death came to him. My servant hail a key to the door, and when he returned he would open it and walk in. There was not the slightest question but that the dog would at once attack him. I had two or three minutes in which to think, and it was wonderful how clear-headed I was. I looked upon my own chances as hopeless, and therefore determined that when Henry returned I would call out to him before he got the door open. I was also concerned for fear the dog would get out of the building. It was a crowded neighborhood, and he might bite a score of people before ho was destroyed. It is said that the presence of a great dan ger sharpens the sense of hearing. I believe th Is to be true, for I have had several |>er soiul experiences. As I lay there wuiting for my servant to return I plainly heard sounds which could not hav e come to my euisi under ordinary circumstances. At the foot of the second flight of stab's, a distance of fully 70 feet from my bed, Henry was stopped by a young man who lodged on that floor. I heard him say: "I was wuiting here to tell you that Capt. Williams’ brute of a dog passed up stairs a short, time ago. Is the Captain there?” "He was not there when I left." ■‘And he has not come in alter the dog. The animal bail a scaly look, and you'd better be careful how you drive him out." “Thanks, sir: I’ll hurry right up.” I heard my nian oomo upstairs and along the lin.il. As soon as he saw that my bed room door was shut he seemed to suspect /the worst, and he acted like a hero. He came down the hall on tip-toe, put his face close to the door, and sang out: ■‘Colonel, I know the big dog is in your room, and I um going for help. Ir he conies near you shut your eyes and pretend to be dead. The sound of his voice put the dog into a frenzy. He growled and snarled and Nnnpjied, and as the man hurried down the hail the beasl rushed from under the bed wbtli a dreadful howl aud began rushing urouud llietvom os bvfoia Alter making the circle of the bedroom four or five times, lie dashed into the reception room. There ho quite overtmjped the centre table, and in jus fury he wrenched off a leg with Ins teeta and destroyed the upholstering of the sofa. [ was terribly excited, and hid 1 given way to ray feelings I should have screamed out like a woman. I shut my eyes tightly, braced ray nerves by chiding myself for a coward, and when the climax came I was fairly ready for it. 1 knew that the dog would sooner or later turn to me, and as he left the reception room he was on the foot of the bed in two bounds. There was an open book lying there, and he seized and worried this for a moment. Then came walking tip to my jaee, bearing his full weight on my broken vl u lld F ;vu me intense pain. My arms and hands were on the cover, and the foam from his mouth fell upon my bare flesh. He put both paws on my chest, and ran bis nose over my face to snuff at me, and he was ail the time snarling and whining in away to take the nerve a wav from the stout est mail. I don’t know whether ho would have bit ten me or not, could I have remained quiet, but such a thing as holding my nerves steady for over a minute was utterly impos sible. I was feeling that I must throw up Jii y hands and scream out when the beast leaped off the bed. He had heard people in the liall. He ran about the room whining and snapping, and all at once made a spring for the door of the reception room, which was being shut to by human hands. A space j or ieehes wide was left, and when trio dog attempted to push his head into this, a couple of bullets were fired into him, and he backed out to fall dead. Henry had summoned two policemen, and while the brute stood over me on the bed the faithful servant had entered the reception room and pushed the door as nearly shut as they wanted it, having believed that the dog would behave just as he did. That Czar was suffering with hydrophobia none could doubt from his looks and conduct. Inside of twenty days two house dogs which he had snapped at as he came up went mad, and then there was no further question that I had had a close shave from a horriblo death. DANCING THE HULA HULA. The Forbidden Pleasure of the Sand wich Islanders. From the San Francisco Examiner. I was invited by a native chief, whose ac quaintance I had formed, to go with him to witness a real hula huia, a geuuine dance of the good old time. I eagerly accepted his kindness, and at 9 o’clock one beautiful evening we started for the rendezvous, a na tive house, grass thatched, and with walls of slendor canework. Arriving there we en tered a large room, on the floor of which a number of native spectators lay stretched on soft mats. Room was made for us, and we had hardly taken our seats before a curtain, which Was stretched at the far end of the room, was drawn, and the enter tainment commenced. First, the musicians entered and sat down on one end of the stage, which was simply a large thick mat, on three sides of which "reclined the specta tors. The music consisted of six drums, three large and three small. The large ones were enormous calabashes, the heads of which wore covered with tightly drawn skins; the small ones were cpcoaiiut shells covered in the sime manner. The leader, a sprightly dame of 70 sum mers, was a very important personage, as it was her business to direct the performance by the expression of her face and tlie action of her hands. Suddenly a strange chant was raised, accompanied by a beating of the drums in perfect time. This gradually died awav, and two more musiciaas appeared holding long sticks, from which they elicited clear notes In striking them with shorter ones. These took places behind the rest of the orchestra, and After them, all dancing in a row, Tiie comely virgins came with garlands bright, All fresh as flowers. Ten girls, fantastically dressed, with scarfs bound round their waists and crowned with garlands of flowers and with wreaths of gardenias around their wrists and ankles, made their way, with slow and graceful movements, to the edge of the stage, on which they sank just as the music ceased. Some of these girls were beautiful and had softly molded limbs and figures of extreme grace. At a tap of the drum they raised themselves to their knees and commenced a wild song, to which they at first beat time with a clapping of their hands. Gradually this changed into the most expressive pan tomime. The sticks and drums took up the measure; arms, hands and even fingers spoke a torrent of words with a precision that the best-drilled ballet troupe could never attain. The body swayed back and forward, the slightest mo tion to the right or left by one being re peated by all. Something snakelike and repulsive, anon seductive and pleasing, un til finally a wild tossing of the arms, fol lowed by a low wail, proclaimed the end of the story, to the evident discomfiture of the maiden and the triumph of the lover. Dur ing the interval required for rest, a very intricate performance was gone through by four men and four women, who sat opposite and close to one another. Each held a bam boo about two feet long and split at the end into strips. When stmek together they made a most peculiar sound, which formed the accompaniment to the song. A distinct rhythm was kept up all the time by the bamboos, and as their sound began to get somewhat monotonous loud cries were raised for the “hula.” The dancers now formed a circle. Each held a small cala bash ornamented with feathers and with seeds inside, so that it could be used as a tambourine or rattle. Slowly the ring be gins to circle round, hands and feet keeping time in a majestic, formal fashion. Soon they quickened their ste| and the sharp rattle keeps up a running fire, with now and then a deep boom from the big drum. The circle widens, aud just as with wild grace the dancei-s reach the inner row of spectators the music ceases and thoy throw themselves down on the ground, leaving two of their number standing in the centre. After a puuse the music and singing begin again, and as they boeomp more passionate so does the dancing of the pair become more intoxicating and abandoned. Others join them, each pair working ontthe old story of coquetry, jealousy and the final surrender of the mniilen accoiding to their own taste and ideas. Soft, swaying movements, and a gentle turning away, timid glances and startled gestures gradually give place to more rapturous passions. The excitement of the dance inspires them to fi-esh and more rapid evolutions until exhausted nature can stand no more, and they drop fainting on their cushions. Romantic Story From Army Life. From the Missouri Republican. An army officer is quoted as telling a most romantic story of u brother officer, who graduated with him from West Point many years ago. Shortly afterward this friend married a prettv girl, and for a time things went smoothly,"but John Barleycorn, who has killed more soldiers than have ever fallen in battle, got 'he best of him and he went to the dogs rapidly. Finally he threw up his position in the army, deserted las young wife and for years nothing was heard of him. At last news came to the ixjor woman that the worthless wretch was dead, and after a time she marriod another officer and they moved out to his station at one of the far Western posts. In the meantime it seems that her first hus band was not dead, but, after years of de bauchery and wandering, reformed. He then liecan to moke inquiries for the woman he had deserted. Nothing was known of her, and after a long and fruitlem search he was forced to the conclusion that she had given Up the struggle. He came to M ash iiurton, where. through the assistance of somto Influential friends, lie procured an ap pointment in the army. Then, believing himself free, he married again and took his wife to the frontier post to which he was nr dcitvi —the same at which his first wife was living. The meeting, the shock of mutual re cognition, the deep shame of the tenable sit uation, is something to which no pen can do lustier. What were they to do? Ihe ques tion lms not yet reached a satisfactory sot tiemeoL. THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, JUNE 19, 1887-TWELVE PAGES. TAM O’SHANTER. The Legend of the “Dead Lands” and Recent Ghostly Manifestations. A letter to the Louisville Courier-Journal from Russellville, Ky., says: Loguu county for several months past seems to have been the favored field for the operations of su pernatural agencies. The fii’st manifesta tion sufficient to cause any alarm was at the humble dwelling of Mr. J. H. Gildewall, which nestled among the hills of “Coon range.” So persistent was the ghost or spook that the unf< irtunoto inmates of the little home were forced to leave and seek other shelter, but even in their now quarters they were harassed well nigh to distraction, until finally the seemingly or really spiritual happenings ceased as suddenly as they had liegun, his ghostsliip leaving no record of its race and no history of its country. But that it had been there aud ite presence made painfully manifest the best men of that sec tion will testify, and that its fame extended far and near aiid that on its account that whole country-side was aroused to the highest pitch of excitement the whole county will bear witness. Ana now from the southern borders of the country comes a tale of ghostly visita tions thrilling and gruesome beyond concep tion. Not far from where the Clarksville and Mason’s Mill roads intersect each othor there lies a strip of low. moldy land ano ut a mile in width and three miles long, the greater part of which is covered with water to the depth of from six inches to two fret. It is full of dangerous quagmires and is known by the suggestive name of Dead Lands. On its eastern side, some two miles from the road leading to Springfield, Tenn., there stands ail old, oild-looking stone structure which has the appearance of having been built a century. Tne tradition is—and it is generally accepted as true —that many years ago when civilization in this section of the country was in its infancy, the land which is now mostly under water and several feet below the surrounding country- was a beautifully wooded plain covered with magnificent forest trees. No s]*ot was more inviting or beautifully situated, as then it was as much .above the sur rounding country as it is now below it. Upon this spot a"party of emigrants from the busy and burdened East stopped their train aud pitched their tents, finally con cluding to remain. Among them was a man who professed to have had a divine revela tion ; in winch he was told that to him and all who should believe in him and accept his teachings should be given the power to triumph over death, and that when the allotted time on earth should end they would be transported, soul and body, to a land of immortal youth. He was tne leader, as he was the father confessor, of the flock which he had gathered around them. By his efforts aud under his directions there was built the rude, though substantial, stone building before re ferred to, in which each night and morning they were wont to worship. The building is low aud narrow, and in one end are still to be seen the. crumbling remains of what ap peal’s to have been a rude altar. Just inside the doorway in im arch cut out of solid stone hangs a massive Igazen bell, which of all the ancient pile seems to have stood best the ravages of time. After a few years, passed chiefly in holy duties, there suddenly descended upon the strange band a calamity so dire as to leave in its wake a wreck to stand for all time as a warning to future generations. While they were engaged one evening at their accustomed devotional ex ercises there commenced a low, rambling sound, the stone building began to quiver and rock from side to side like a storm tossed vessel. Seized with terror, the wor shipers fled panic-stricken from the place. The shock ceased after a while, only to be succeeded later on by another, and then another, throughout the night. When day dawned a terrible sight met the gaze. Ail vegetable growth was dead and parched, as if it had been visited by a severe drought. The trees which yesterday had been waving in full pride of summer ver dure were almost completely stripped of their foliage and were withered and dying. The church, though severely shaken, was still intact, but leaned considerably from its natural position. The primitive dwellings, which had been hastily constructed of logs, were totally demolished, and the stricken colony, sickened with the sight, departed as suddenly and silently as they had come, The surface of the earth had fallen so much duriDg the shocks that it now formed a shallow basin instead of a raised plain as before. Thus much for the tradition: whether or not it is all true I do not know, nor does any other living man, but evidence of the truth of a part of it at least remains, of which there can be no doubt. There is the strange old building and the wide expanse of marsh and mire, in which the oldest inhabitant has seen no particle of vegetation grow, and in which stand the naked, dead tree-trunks, with gleaming arms outstretches! like an army of spectres. This much at least is true, however it may have been brought about. The nearest residence to the “Dead Lands” is that of Mr. Gado Lee Bailpy, than whom no man stands higher in this county, and whose word is considered as good as his bond. About two weeks ago he had been detained in Adairville rather late at night anil arrived at home shortly before mid night. He had been to the bam to put up his horse, and was walking slowly toward the house when he was startled by the peal of a bell, distant, clear, puul following peal in regular and mournful cadence. Know ing that the nearest church was seven miles distant and that the tones were too full und deep for a farm bell, his curiosity was aroused, and after listening a few moments he determined to investigate the matter. Going to the stable, he saddled a fresh horse and started off in the direction whence the sound of the bell pro ceeded. After riding slowly for some min utes, he became conscious of the fact that lie was going in the direction of the “Deal Lands.” Immediately it occurred to him that it must be the old bell in the stone church, though lie had lived there over thirty years un i had never known it to lie rung before. Ills approach to the edge of the swamp lav through a dense wood, and when he reached the opening that gave a view of the old church, the scene which met Lis vision was one well calculated to chill the bravest heart. Standing near the edge of the swamp, the church is only about 150 yards distant, the inside of the building being plainly visible through the open door way. The church was filled with a fierce roil light which streamed through the open windows and out on the black water of the swamp. Grouped in front of the stone altar were a dozen, or perhaps more, figures which Mr. Bailey was wholly unable to describe intelligently. Front imperfect description, however, it they were dressed in long, gar ments which clung closely to skaflkon forms. The tacos of tlie figures were from view by black hoo.ls which reuehi‘®L>vni to tlie shoulders. All of tlie body was visible were the long floshlosspiger^ex tended beyond the sleeves of Lying near the altar on what appeared to tie a stone table lay a figure dressed a* the others, except entirely in white, and per fectly motionless. While he st< >od gazing in awful fascination upon the strange and un natural scene, the figures stretched out their arms over the prostrate form and lagan to move them slowly back and forth, keeping time to the mournful tolling of the church bell, and then commenced to move slowly in a circle around the table. When they liad completed the circuit the third time, they suddenly stopped, and, as if by a precon certed movement, knelt about the table. Then the l>ell ceased tolling and simultaneous ly the light was oxthiguished and the silence of ■ tenth reigned o-rer the scene. Mr. Bailey says that up b> this (time hejhad suoowxted in ”011 trolling his non**, but as the light went our he wheeled and dashed through the woods at lireak neck speed. Ho reached home in safety, however, and related what hal passed to his wife. At first she refused to lielieve him and attributed it to a de rangement of his nerves, but when he bat-lime so earnest she was compelled, as all others have been whom lie has told, to accept what he Said a* tlie solemn truth. They tbqught beat not to apeak of the matter at once, however, for fear of being laughed at, but it weighed so on their miuds that flnaiiv they told one or two in confidence, which of course secured its liberal advertisement, and now it is the talk of the whole country. The place which heretofore was hardly ever thought of is now visited daily hy crowds of l tiie curious and incredulous, anil the ghoul disturbed district is all agog with excite ment. Others heard the tolling of the bell, but were not sufficiently interested to do as Mr. Bailey did, or doubtless they would have had a similar experience. The question seems to be, was it or not the work of the supernatural >. with public opin ion largely favorable to the affirmative theory. If, on the other hand, it wus the work of human hands, what was their pur pose, and how did they get out to the church through the quagmire? Since the news has got abroad the roads near the swamp are shunned as if it wore a pestilence, and the negroes in the neighborhood cannot be in duced ty go out at all after dark. Nothing that ever occurred in the county has equaled it in point of supernatural mysteri ousness, and the “Ghosts of the Deal Lands” are talked of in every household. GEORGE \V. CABLE. A Talk With Him After His Address at Vanderbilt University. From the Nashville American. Last night after the close of Mr. Cable's remarkable lecture, which will give the poople who heard him an elevated line of thought for the remainder of their lives, the quiet, slightly-built man of letters sat over a lunch of milk and bread at Chancel lor Garland's residence on the Uni verity campus. He was talkative and affable and responded to the queries of a reporter with readiness and interest. His conversation and bearing was that of a man of lovable nature, extraordinary intellect, refinement of character and mental cultivation. “The whole burden of my speech to night,” said he, “was to show that tins idea of danger to public order and private society from a supremacy of the masses, that the negro would use "a full civil liberty for the destruction of social order, is fal lacious.” “How do you explain this prejudice of the New Orleans people toward you:” “By the profound feeling, ’’ I say, “that rublie order is in danger by the sentiments advocate.” Said Chancellor Garland, who was listen ing attentively: “I hope, Mr. Cable, that you will write out this address to vindicate yourself from the accusations of the social equality idea which has erroneously been accredited to you.” Continuing, Mr. Cable said: “1 advocate tilings and changes people are afraid to make.” “You believe the negro is not given his rights?” | “Why, of course, he is not. Did you ever see one that said lie liad “But about that New Orleans prejudice. The Creole idea in New Orleans is not the real reason of their feeling. I have not been unfaithful in my delineation of the Creole poople, and they all know it—those, at least, who have read what 1 have written about them. Rut we are going a long ways round to account for a tiling. We simply see that whoever professes to disturb their status quo comes into conflict with public sentiment.” “What is the Southern question you re ferred to in your lecture ?” “It is simply the question of the full and equal ar.d impersonal American civil rights by blacks and whites alike.” “What part must literatuq| do?” “Well, this: that is a question no longer partisan. Civil rights lias lieen aoroptod by Democrats and Republicans alike. It is a suppressed question in politics, and one that has been relegated to the people. My own work shall be toward establishing peace and harmony, which I claim will not produce confusion of rare. It is not necessary as a cause, nor will not result as an effect. All the confusion < f races in human history has come from oppres sion from above, hot below. I think I shall write two or three short papers on these va rious points. My ‘Silent South’ is a too sustained work. You might say I cannot divine how anybody could impute to a sane mind the advocacy of what is known as so cial equality. And yet. that is the accusa tion against ‘The Silent South.’ 1 say there that it is a fool’s dreiun, and yet they turn right round and say 1 advocate it.” “Why do you persist in following up this subject?” “I do not. Everybody knows the subject itself will not down.” “You shoot high,” it was suggested. “A man must either be leader of thought or of men. If the former, he cannot wait for men to keep up with him. If I propose to lead thought, I have got nothing to do with tlie alignment. I don’t- hojje for any great effect upon any large numbers. I look to the intelligent lew. It isn’t the undermass. And there is where the hojie of the thing comes in.” “Why did you leave New Orleans!” “I have a rigid to go without criticism from one State to another and transfer my citizenship. But even if I devoted myself to Louisiana and the Southern States, I can serve them just as well from New Eng land as from Louisiana. I thought it well, having lieen familiar with Southern affairs during all tlie impressionable years < we life, to study the aspect from a distiur also. Also to cotne into close contact wn other sections and get comparative views. ’ “Did you experience uncongenial per sonal relations in New Orleans?” “That wasn't one of my ideas at all—not at all,” earnestly—“in moving. My wife's healtli aud my own superior working power wore tin- inducements. My own search of the more congenial personal surroundings didn’t enter into my calculations. I had a throng of friends in New Orleans and was deeply interested in all the relations of life there.” Tragedy. /. V. lice* in Macmillan's Magazine. Around Kazeroon are many beautiful orange gardens, and in one of those, a short time before my visit, occurred a tragedy which will bring home to my readers the state of the criminal law in Persia. Two village!'* quarreled and one, in the heat of the moment, smote the other on the head with his spack. There was no homicidal in tention but the injured man died. The Koran claims an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, and the Koran is the penal code as well us the Bible of an orthodox Moslem State; but blood money may lie, and almost alwuys is, accepted as satisfaction by the relations of the deceased. The father of this villager, however, declined to recoivu money and insisted on the offender's death. The Governor in doubt, referred the ease to his superior at Shiraz, who. after the usual references to the Mol labs (or high priests), replied that the law of Hod must lx* carried into effect. This some what oracular answer left mutters, as was doubtless its intention, still in the discretion of the Governor; ana he, to get out of the diffiulty, gave his oxe cutioneix a holiday and told the father of the deceased that In their absence he could not carry the law into effect. The father replies! that this was no obstacle, for he would himself carry out the law. Had he thrice ret used treble the legal blood money, and should his son’s murderer go free? After this there was nothing more to lie said. The unfortunate homicide, with the fatalism of a Mussulman, sat down lieneath an orange tree and smoked his last pip*, while his ouemy 1/rought two farrasbe* of the Governor to dig tils grave. On their arrival the victim put awuy bis pine and wit still while the father of tbs man be slew in the heat of paMion judicially out his throat. A horrible stony that I would not believe but that I had it from sources that left no doubt of it* truth. In the territories of the other great Mussulman power such an oc currence as this would be impossible. A more reforming and less fanatical spirit has largely mollified the criminal law of the Koran In the Ottoman Empire; while the civil law, os therein administered, in as com plex and procrastinating a iy.>tem as civil lzattewwurtiwvwo. STARTLING STATISTICS. The Civil War’s Cost in Human Lives- Most Destructive Ever Waged. From a Washington Special. I heard one of tho young generation say ing he was a little tired of hearing contin ually, and especially every year, about Memorial uuy, of the immense sacrifice of lives and treasure made by the people in the great civil war and all that. The tone im plied that it was not such a terrible thing after all, and was rather small potatoes as wars go. It is well enough to freshen up the minds of the boys as to the facts of that wn r, and what it cost their fathers. It takes but few figures to show that it was one of the greatest and most momentous wars ever waged among civilized people, and taking into consideration it. length, the most de structive, cost ly and murderous ever waged. Most of the famous wars of ancient his tory that the young men pore over in Latin ami Greek were not very great wars after all, compared with that fought out by their fathers for the salvation of the American republic. Look over these dreadful figures, young man, and consider the awful significance of the following facts: Official returns show that about 3,901,000 soldiers enlisted during the war in response to the successive calls of Ib’esident Lincoln, and that of this number 180,098 were colored troops. Reiiorts show that the Northern and Southern armies met in over 3,000 skirm ishes and battles. In 148 of these conflicts the lass on the Federal side was over 500 men, and in at least 10 battles over 10.000 men were reiKirtod lost on euch side. The appended to file shows that the combined losses of the Federal and Confederate forces in rilled, wounded and missing, in the fol lowing engagements were: Shiloh, 34,000; Antietain, 38,000: Stone river, 87,000; ChancellorsviUe, 38,000; Get tysburg, 54,000; Chic! amauga, 83.000; Mc- Clellan's peninsula campaign, 180,000, and Grant’s peninsula campaign, 135,000. Official statistics show that of the 3,000,- 000 men enlisted, there were killed in batUo 44,836; died of wounds, 49,305; died of dis ease, 186,318; died of unknown causes, 34,- 184; total. 303,848. This includes only those whose dentil while in the army had heen actually proven. To this number should be added, first, 30,000 men who are known to bave died while in the hands of the enemy as prisoners of war, and many others in the some milliner whose death< are unrecorded; second, a fair percentage of the 805,794 men who are put on the official reports as desert ers and Kissing in action, for those win* participated in tlie war know that men fre quently disappear who, it was certain, had not deserted, yet could not be otherwise officially accounted for; third, thousands who are buried in private cemeteries all over the North who died while at homo on fur lough. The nation's dead are buried in 73 national cemeteries, of which only 13 are in the Northern States. Among tho principal ones in the North are Cypress Hill, with its 3,786 dead; Finn’s Point, N. J., which contains the remains of 3,614 unknown dead;'Gettys burg, Pa., with its 1,967 known and 1,608 unknown dead; Mound City T ANARUS, 111., with 3,505 known and 3,731 unknown graves: Philadel phia, W’ith 1,969 dead, and YVoodlawn, Elmira, N. Y., with its 3,900 deed. In the South, near the scenes of terrible conflicts, are located the largest depositories of the nation’s (load; Total. Unknown. Arlington, Va 16,36-4 4,319 Beaufort, 8. C 9,341 4,493 Ohalmetta, La 12,511 6,(174 Chattanooga, Tenn 12,062 4,968 Fredericksburg. Va 15.257 12,770 Jefferson Barracks, Mo 11,490 2,900 IJttle Rook. Ark 5.002 2.337 City Point, Va 5,122 1,374 Marietta, (la 10,151 2,968 Memphis, Tenn 18.997 8,617 Nashville. Tenn 16,526 4,700 Poplar Grove, Va 6,190 4,001 Richmond, Va 6,54# 5,7(3) Salisbury. N. C 12,126 12,082 Stone River, Tenn 5,603 268 Vicksburg, Miss 16,000 12,704 Antietain, Va 4,971 1,818 Winchester, Vo 4,559 2,365 lu all, tho remains of 300,000 men who fought for the stars and stripes find guarded graves in our national cemeteries. Two cemeteries are mainly devoted to the brave men who perished in the prisons of the same mime— Andersonvllle, (4a., which contains 13,714 graves, and Salisbury, with its 13,186 dead, of whom 13,033 are unknown. Of the vast number who are interred in our national Cemeteries 275,000 sleep beneath the soil of Southern States, and 145,000 rest in graves marked unknown. The total number of men furnished to tho Federal army by the United States during the war under ail calls was 2,688,533. The total number of colored troops in the North ern army was 133.156. The heaviest loss by disease was suffered by the colored troops; while, but 3,997 died in action and of wounds, tlie enormously large number of 36,804 died of disease. Among the white troops tin- proportion of deaths in action and from wounds to the deaths from disease was about as I to 3; among the colored troops as Ito 8. <)f the colored troops enlisted 1 out of every 7 died of disease. The projiortion turning the white troops was I to 15. Now, that w<-are brushing up these fig ures, it will t>c well enough to remember bow many men were furnished by a to st,ate, ami tfc ’ following list will Orphan*. I* lu'midnod s, wif.,t iffi you think of these fatherless and motherless little ones! No hand at home to take core of their ipparel, no heart to pity them. Said one Dg one, when tlie mother died: “Who y ew )ke care of my clothes now!” Thelit- New .Pare thrown out in this great, cold Peimsylvawy are shivering on the brink Dele ware. the verge of a precipice. Does Maryland ’ run cold as they go over.it! m“('olu^. her that come on 0j,!,, jce. They are the chll- Indiuna.... . (rents. They are worse Illinois ;*ok at that pale cheek; Michigan * at that gash across Wiscdiwin -*r struck it. Hear siZwuri Vnd we come out Kentucky ............... . .peeledaud blis- Konsas you.” “Too “The path Total . . n’t stop. In the number of her sons sacrud we tin' cause of the Union, Vermont led 11’ is other States bv a heavy per cent., with'm exception of Kansas. ” Vermont’s proportion per 1,000 contrii utod to the total of deaths in action was 58.82, that of Ohio .‘{6,55, that of New York 33.68, Massnehinotts was 47.16, lowa 45.44. In the proportion per 1,000 of deaths from disease, lowa led with a percentage of 114.02, amt Vermont followed with 91.81. Ohio’s |srcentftge was 46.83. The projsirtioii of deaths from uii cutise* in the troops of en<-h State was as follows: Maine, lin 7; New Hampshire, 1 lu 7; Vermont, 1 in 0; Massa chusetts, 1 in 9: Rhode Island, 1 in 11; Con necticut, lin 10’ New York, lin 13; New Jersey, 1 in 12; Pennsylvania, 1 in 13; Dela ware, 1 in 30; Maryland, 1 in 36: Ohio, 1 in 9; Indiana, 1 in 8; Illinois, 1 in 7; Michigan, 1 in 6; Wtoxinsin. 1 in 7; Minnesota, 1 in 8; lowa. lin 5 (nearly 6); Kansas, lin 5; Cal ifornia, 1 in 20; West Virginia, 1 in 9; Ken tucky, 1 in 19; Missouri, 1 in 9, Again, the young men mast not forget, as they read of the great buttles of history, tliat few of them can compare in magni tude with the greutost tmttlcs of the civil war, and that the buttles of tliat war were the bloodiest in all the history of wars in the nriqKjrtion of killisl to those engaged. YVuterlrs! win one of the most drefls-rato and bloody field* chronicled in European his tory, and yet Wellington's casualties wore less thm \v Per cent.. Ids loaves being 2.432 killcM n.pi 9*B wiamdod old of over 100,000 u;0, while at Shiloh one side lost in Id Ik'd end wminded 9,740 cut of 34,000, while their Opponents report tie *r killed and wounded ,u 9,616, making the casualties about 30 per cent. At the srrut battle of Wagrum Napolron lost but about 5 per cent, At Wurzburg the French 1 <ytt, hut. per cent., and yet tn" army gave up the field and n ti e.it and to the Rfiiue. At Rnpour Manhnl Saxe loat but %}( per cd|l. At Zurich Mitsvim lost but S j* r c*in. At Lagi i/. Frederick lost but per per cunt.- At Malploquct Marlborough lust but 10 per rent., and at Ramillies the same intrepid commander lost Lint 0 jior cent. At Contras, Henry of Navarre was re ported os cat to pira-s, yet his low wan less tuan 10 per i. .it. At Lodi Napoleon lust 1 , ix r cent. At Valmy Frederica IV iiliaai loot but b pci cent., and at the great lurttlcs of Marengo and At terlitz, sanguinary a;* they "tie, Napoleon lost an average of less than is cent. At Mogeut. and Solfcrino, tu 185(1, the average loss of both armies was hsss than 9 jwr cent. At Konigrath, in Isc ill, it. was I! per cent. At Worth, Specheran, 1* Tour, Gravelotte ana Sedan, in 18,0, the average loss was 12 per cent., while at Linden Gen, Moreau lost out 4 [x-r cent., and the Archduke John lost but 7 per cent, in killed tuid wounded. Americans would scarcely call this a lively skirmish. At Perry ville, Murfreesboro, Chicnmauga, Atlanta, Gettysburg, Mission Ridge, the n ildernc ss and Spottsylvania, the loss fre quently reached, and sometimes exceeded, 40 per cent., and the average of killed and wounded on one side or the other was over 30 per cent. Of the gentlemen w ho were at West Point during one period of a cadetship, 56 were killed in battle, and estimating the rate of killed and wounded at 1 to 5, 280 were wounded. From the discovery of America to 1801, ill all wars with other nations, the record gives the deaths in battle of button Ameri can Generals, while from 1861 to 1805, both sides being opposed by Americans, more than 100 general oitloers fell while leading their triumphant columns. From 1402 to 18111 the killed and wounded upon American soil in all battles, combats and skirmishes, added together, as shown Icy reports, hardly exceeded the casurlties of single buttles of the great American conflict. In addition to the vast list of dead from the war must lie added those who died from wounds received during the war. The kill ing is still going on rapidly as ever, and men are dropping daily from “wounds re ceived in action” who ought, to live for long years yet. The figures I have given really ?ivc but a glimpse into the real truth of the rightful mortality of the war that, saved the Union. I hope the .young men who read this will feel no more impatience because the saenfiree of the great war are talked about, and that they will cut otit the figures tliat t have coHncted for thorn and save them for referoiM-o whenever they feel tliat way. NEKVK AND GOLD. Reminiscences of Draw Poker on Pio neer Steamboats. From the Nashville American. The late Capt. Jack Dashiell in his long service on the Cumberland witnessed many stirring scenes, of which he never tired talk ing to his friends. Spiking of card play ing' on the pioneer steamboats he once said: “Yes, it was a real pleasure to witness one of those old-fashioned games. Why, I’ve wen wives and swi'ctb(>artH sit behiud the chairs of their husbands and lovers and watch with eager interest the exciting play. Rich brandies and wines and fine cigars were convenient, and the game flowed on with seldom a rough word. The stakes did grow to rather exorbitant proportions some times, it must tie confessed; but men need excitement, you know, ami those men had the nerve to see bullion circulated without manifesting much trepidation at the re sult.” “What was the biggest game yon ever saw?" “That question is rather hard to answer. Let us see. I think it was one played on the ’Tonka in the thirties. Oh, yes, 1 recol lect distinctly, and the man who won it was a rare go's! one. 1 had left New Orleans on the return trip to Nashville, and among t.be passengers were a gixxlly number of plant ers whose pockets jingled heavily with the com brought by the sale of their produce. There was one young fel low, 1 renienilier, who hoarded ns at New Orleans saying he was on a pleasure jaunt to Nashville. Ho was a tall, slender youth, upon whose lips the faint traces of a mous tache betokened a manhood which other wise might have Ixxmi doubted. He was singularly handsome, a tine specimen of the aristocratic Creole. His garments were fashionably cut and of rich texture. He wore no jewelry save a delicately molded watch chain, wfilch passed around liis neck, and a solitaire diamond, which flashed lus trously upon bis dark-skinned hand. He was apparently wealthy, but made no dis play ornis money; that w, for several days. YVe hail lieen out some time and things were moving quite merrily, when someone proposed poker. That was nothing unusual, and I ixiicl no attention to the preparation for the gunie. Dinner had just lieeii served, the wines jiassed around and everybody mellow for fun. A table was cleared, anew deck of cards brought out by the clerk, and the party squared themselves for play. It was composed of three planters, old ac quaintances of mine from this section, and the young Creole. I passed t lie quartette as the lirst hand was Ixdng dealt and with a wish that they might enjoy themselves, went to the hurricane deck. I did not comedown until supper time The iJaye* still sat at their place j oM not know her hung over th- •.▼* called her “Mary the Sis. nad lieen picked up out of „l, street. But she grew on, and after awhile the Holy Bpirit came to her heart, and she became a Christian child, and sho changed her name; mid when anybody asked her what her name was, she said: “It used to be Mary Lost: but now, since I have income a Christian, it is Mary Found." For this vast multitude, are wo willing to go forth from this morning's service and see what we can do, employing all the agen cies I have spoken of for tin l rectification of the poisoned fountains! We live in it beau tiful The lines have fallen to us in pleasant placos, and we have a goodly heri tage; atm any man who does not like a resi dence in Brooklyn, must be a most uncoin fortahle and unreasonable man. But, my friends, the material prosperity of a city is not its chief glory. There may be line bouses, and beautiful streets, and tliat all be the garniture of a sepulchre. Some of the most prosperous cities of the world have gone down, not one stone left upon another. But a city may lie in ruins long before a tower has fa 1 ten, or a column has crumbled, or a tomb has been defaced When in a “My the Churches of God are full of cold formalities and inani mate religion, when the houses of com merce are the abode of fraud and uriholv traffic; when the streets are filled wftli rjrne unarrested, and sin unenlightened, and '-ysuess unpitied—that city is in ruins, of L every church were a fit. Peter's, namwfy moneyed institution were a Bank chair llr *> and “very library were a Brit awaited' 111 !, and every house had a porch opener <! f Rheims, and a roof like that of planter t' “ t° w ® r like that of Antwerp, his mind** 1 windows like those of Frei pfaved his to, our pulses beat rapidly the gold had IT I soon we shall le gone; and hihle The fo 'l° f° r the city in which we the next in o riKlit speedily, or never do silent for a futf *vt>en those who have with a muttered ‘ n luxuries and despised to the deck; the ot|t° shame and everldst- The Creole gently . *MV be said of you pouch. Am he coaclbread to the hungry he gently tipiied I*cor of the orphan, and they were so hla<-k tl>o "treet we opened leariy rarted upon hls 1 ®^ 0 ® °* a a mild inquiry, ‘*irough our instru to see the hand that bea,known on earth he spreail the raids upoo*t became Mary farce upward, We all bti _ spect them. 1 thought he straight certainly. What Canada, a single pair Mid nothing be-James Alex other pin rer* realised how nodpbia forger, been liluffed. a look of disg ;ht. He has their faces which I can never l and family neat; wasn't ili The game stop,he |>a*t two and there, and I did not see exported to partv formed on that trip. i winner he came on to Nash villi - tired his gains like wheat to the te use of fashionable pro. I learned aftei ter niay lie was of one of the oldest and BVbhloride erotic families in Louisiana. Yes, armless t!lose were the highest, t.'ikre I saw ounce know the winner was the coolest pdrmk- Vr laid eyes on.” A LONG TIME RETURNING. A Boy Sent on an Errand Returns Nine Years After With the Goods. From the Paducah News. Just nine years ago on a May-day morn ing from a .arm house on the bonk of tha Ohio, a few mites alx>ve the city of Padu cah, a boy of 16 was sent by his mother to town for some household supplies—a dollar’s worth of sugar and coffee. The incident of itself |s nothing; it occurs scores of times in the life of every farmer boy; but thereby hangs a tale, of which Defoe could have written a volume, and which, woven into a novel, would be of intense interest to the youthful readers of the half-dime libraries. If the family to which this hero belonged had waited the evening meal for his, return, the Coroner would have found a “deafch-by starvation case,” and if no other messenger was sent for the articles the hum of the cof fee mill and the singing of the kettle would have not boen heard in that house all these many days. The boy was of n roving disposition: was a Bohemian by nature, and, nred with the highly-colored store* of life in tliefur West, his errand for sugar and coffee ended in a nine years’ search for fame and fortune be yond the Rwkies. Coming to town that day, he dixap|>eared as utterly as though the earth had opened and swallowed him up. Not a trace of him could lie found, not a word ould bo heard, and after days of anxiety had lengthened into months of sor row, and months had measured years, with out 1 idings. the grief and pain grew into the apathy ol' despair, and the mother let long ing die, and thought of him as having crossed the dark river to join the countless crowd on the father shore. The boy went West. Sometimes fortune smiled ui>on him and left him happy and hopeful; sometimes luck went by on the other side, and lie sighed for the rest of home. Sometimes ho dined on plenty; some times the dinner-table was a stranger. Some times Ids raiment was of line linen and fair to look ujxm; at other times, through the rents iu the rags that covered his lines, not a sign of a shirt could be seen, and the cold, cutting w inds of the middle of December played a gleeful game ith the spots where the shirt ought to have been. The world was a great deal larger, a great deal colder, and a great deal less inclined t<i encourage youthful aspirations than he had ever Imagined. Years of experience robbed him of t,Ue arrogance of youth, and taught him the truth that the four-leafed shair.nx'k of future grows just as luxuriantly at home, and the glitter of gold is just as bright, when s n by one's own hearth-stone. Wearying at last of the struggle In- deter mined to return. He leached Paducah nine years from the day he left home. The steamer Rl.oa was in port, and he tarried in the city only long enough to purchase the sugar and coffee for which he had lioen sent so long Ix-fore and took jwssage. When the Ixmt rounded in at his landing he was in the pilot-house and saw Ills mother stand ing at the gute looking at tilt- boat and wondering no doubt who could lx- coming. He went ashore und walked up to the gate. Hhe did not seem to know him, and, as ho advanced, retreated toward the house. He ciuno nearer, nearer until she could seeevory line and lineament of Ills face. Then diet she recognize him I Ask any mother who, has had a son go out from her sight into the world and in ufter years come linck to her with the stamp of age upon him; ask any mother if that one. whom sho has nursed and nurtured through the tot tering days of babyhood and watched grow tall and strong and proud could be forgotten; ask any mother who, as she reads this, looks up and smiles on some fair boyish form and knows iu her heart no time could alter those features so that she could not see in them somethingot her own. Ask these. What passed lietween the mother and son we do not know, and if we did It would not ilnd place in these columns; for what tongue can tell or pen ixirtray the feeling each must have had when they stood face to face; he, bearded and brawny, sun-tannedaiid tawny; she, old and wrinkled, but his mother. We know not what words they said, what tears they shed; but we venture this, that if on the farm there was one yearling just a little fatter than all the rest, tliat calf never saw daylight again, and when the feast was spread the first line on the bill of fare wa* “sugur and coffee.” WHISKY TASTING. Some Surprising Averments Made by An Expert. From the Chicago Herald. “When you hear people talk about this whisky or that being good,” said an agent of a Cliicago wholesale liquor house who was just returning from a trip to Kentucky, “you can say to yolirseu that the whisky may be either good or bad, and that the man who drinks and smacks his lips knows nothing at all about it. Telling good whisky front bad is anjut Ji out o fwpeople acquire I buy thojflf time and manner ’b( l ' h )fy<iring ..leh'i.' It is an unfortune e custom in the United Btates for women to wear jewels at all times; at breakfast, ingoing to market, for visiting, for every possible occasion, in fact. I know one laay, the happy jiossessor of an exquisite pair of solitaire diamond earrings, who never takes them out of her oars. Tliis is not only foolish but in execrable taste. In Europe—that is, on the Continent —ladies wear jewels all day long. But then, these fair foreign dames ore not housekeep ers. They never go to market, the kitchen in a fine establishment is an unknown quantity, milady does not tramp about the streets looking for bargains and arrayed in an ugly tailor mails costume, or a still uglier thing called an ulster. The ways of living abroad differ essentially from our own. I do not say that they are better but that they are different. In America women walk a great deal, and to the promenaders especially, I would say leave your jewels, if you have any, at home. Nothing is morn ridiculous than to see a woman in a roars* serge gown, iven made by the best tailor, stout walking boot*, perhans covered by muddy overshoes, and with diamonds bla* mg in her ears. For piying visits in the afternoon, if one go in a carriage, a few jewels may appropriately be worn with a silk or velvet costume. In any event, never put on such abominations as imitation precious stones. No woman of real refine ment is ever seen in them. They are only ftt for the rabble who seek to ape their I sitters. If you cannot afford to purchM* the “real thing’’ go without. Ct.ARA IiARZA. A FUNNY MISTAKE. A Man Who Took Out a Dog Moons* to Got Married. From the Chicago .Veirs. “Is this the place to get a licenser* asked a timid young man, nervously, of Officer Spencer in the collector's office yes terday. “Yes; right at the window. You'll hav* to wait your turn. ” The youth got into line and in the coum of haif an hour reached the window. “What's your name and residence!' asked the busy clerk. “E. Walters, 958 Clybourn avenue.” “ Well, here you are— s3, please.” The young man paid the money, seized the paper, ami hastened out of the room. Officer Spencer, noticing the glad light in his eyee as he passed, remarked to himself: “That young feller must be a valuable ani mal. I'll net it 'ud break his heart if it ata some pizened meat.’' As soon as he hail reached the corridor Walters pulled out his license to look at it. “Holy smoke! What’s tbisf Dog! Marry a dog! By George! What will Annie say!’ He was paralyzed. He stood as if dazed for some moments, uncertain what to do. Finally he sheepishly went bars to Officer Spencer, who, when he heard the young man's explanation, intereeiied for him, got his 4U hack, and directed him tp the hymeneal window in the county clerk'* oifle*, where he succeeded in getting the proper license. As he walked away be could not help smiling to hi mmilf. 10