Georgia Historic Newspapers

    r EXCE.
M ilvrjtti A-< kXA J—THIS DAY.
Srs Rasta 7.-04
go, 3ets 4:58
HIGHWaTER at Savanna* ... 11:23 A w. 11:51 PM
Thursday. Dec 26, :88a.
ARRIVED YESTERDAY
Steamship Wm Crane, Billups. Baltimore—W
E Guerard. Apt.
Steamer Ethel. Carroll. Cohen's Bluff and
way landing—W T Gibson, Manager.
arrived UP FROM QUARANTINE YESTER
DAY.
Earl; Leda (Aus), Bttdinich, to load for Eu
rope—Cbr G Dahl & Cos.
DEPARTED YESTERDAY.
Seamer St Nicholas. Usina. Fernaadina— C
Williams. Agent. iNot previously).
Steamer Bellevue. Baldwin. Beaufort, Port
Royal and Bluffton Master.
SAILED YESTERDAY.
Steamship Chattahoochee, New York
Steamship Mounts Bay (Br), Bremen.
Schr Three Sisters. Philadelphia.
MEMORANDA.
New York. Dec 23—Arrived, brig Kaluna
Hinds. Fernandina; schr Marv Lord, Smith do’
Cleared, scbrs Meyer and Muller, Patterson
Jacksonville; B F Neally. Davis. Key West ’
Chart-red, steamship Thomholme (Bri, cot
ton. Charleston to Liverpool, Havre or Bremen,
private t rms, January loading; barks Kigi
(Nor), cotton. Savannah to Oporto, 2 3-64d; Bril
liant (Nor), rosin. Savannah to Cork for orders
3s; schr Blanche Hopkins, guano. Baltimore to
Savannah, $1 60, and back from Coosaw, rock,
private terms.
Londonderry. Dec 21—Sailed, bark Maori (Br)
Jackson, St Simons.
Cardenas. Dec 22—Arrived, schr Henry D May
Morris. Pensacola.
St Domingo City. Nov 11—Arrived, schr Belle
Brown, Sawyer, Kings Ferry, Fla.
Baltimore, Dec 22—Arrived, schrs Ida Law
rence, Young, Savannah; 23d, Katie J Barrett,
McLeod, Coosaw.
Cleared 23d, scnrs Blanche Hopkins. Blacking
ton. Savannah; Frank M Howes, McKinnon,
Georgetown, S C.
Boston, Dec 23—Cleared, schr Joshua Baker,
Kelly, Savannah via Clarks Cove
Darien. Ga, Dec 23—Arrived, schr Linah C
Kaminsky, Woodbury. Savannah.
Ciear -d. schr Varuna, Heyer, Noank.
Fall River, Dec 23—Arrived, schr Mabel
Thomas. Robinson, Fernandina.
Galveston. Dec 22—Sailed, schr Edwin A Gas
kill, Apalachicola.
Jacksonville. Dec 23—Sailed, schrs Benjamin
F Rich, Sanchez, St Thomas, BW I; LoisV
Chaples, Ross, New York.
Key West, Dec 19—Arrived,schrs Goodwill (Br),
Nassau; Meteor, from Apalachicola.
Philadelphia. Dec 23—Arrived, schrs Lucie
Wheatley, Fisher, Darien, Ga; Maggie Cain,
Means, Kings Ferry; Mary A Trainor, Truitt,
Georgetown, SC; Amanda C Parker. Lee, Pen
sacola.
Cleared, schr Mary F Godfrey, Godfrey, Sa
vannah.
Satilla River, Ga. Dec 19—Arrived at Bailey’s
Mills, schr Satilla, Hendricks, New York.
Pensacola, Dec 15—Arrived, stmrChas Morand
(Bn. Marshall. Honduras (sld 19th on return).
23d—Arrived, stmr Scythian (Br), Havana
(cldon return;; barks Jno Ritson (Br). Jamieson,
Barcelona; Alphonsine Zelle (Fr), Para; brig
Strum, Sagua.
Cleared, barks Scots Bay (Br), Steele, Monte
video; Nicolina (Nor), Ferrara, Lisbon; schrs
Beniform (Br), Porter, Havana; Maud licLaiu,
Ma>shall, do.
Fernandina, Dec 21—Cleared, schr Anita,
Small, St Pierre (Mart).
Port Royal, S C, Dec 33—Sailed, steamship
Ferrando ißr), United Kingdom.
Brunswick, Dec 23—Arrived, schrs William R
Drury. Sweetland, Savannah for Satilla River;
Mary J Cook, Hoffses, New York.
Sailed, ship Ugglaa (Sw), Gadd, Liverpool;
hark Oscar (Rus), Skybergsea, Lisbon; brig
Luce (Sp), Maristang, Montevideo.
New York, Dec 25—Arrived, steamships State
of Georgia, Glasgow; Greece, London.
MARITIME MISCELLANY.
New York. Dec 23—Bark Elba. Tilton, from
Savanna.), which arrived 22d, reports: Dec 17,
lat 35 55, ion 74 15, sighted wreckage supposed
to belong to a side w heel steamer, with brown
shaded letters about four feet in length. It Y S
T is all that couid be made out; also a quantity
of life preservers and other wreckage.
Bermuda, Dec 19—bteamer Sophie Rickmer
(Geri. from Brunswick, Ga, for Liverpool, fell
in with steamer Kehrwieder (Ger), from New
Orleans for Havre. Dee 13. about 400 miles north
of Bermuda with shaft broken, took her in >ow
and endeavored to reach New York, but. in con
sequence of heavy weather was unable to do so
and ha I to bear away for Bermuda, where the
ships arrived 17th. On going through the nar
rows leading to Grassy I3ay the Kehrwieder,
still in tow r of the Sophie Rickmer. got ashore,
but was towed off by tugs Gladisfen and Idle
wild and safely anchored in Murray’s anchor
age. The Rickmer obtained a supply of coal and
left 18th for destination. Thedisabl and steamer
will go into dock ami replace the broken shaft
with anew one which is on board. Will dis
charge a small portion of cargo to get at the.
shaft. The captain expects to resume his
voyage by the end of January.
NOTICE TO~vTaRINERS.
A branch of the United Stats* Hydrographic
office ha3 been established in the Custom House
at Savannah. Notice to mariners, pilot charts,
and all nautical information will be furnished
masters of vessels free of charge. Captains are
requested to call at the office.
John S Watters, .
Ensign U S N. in charge, pro tem.
EXPORTS.
Per steamship Chattahoochee, for New York
-2031 bales upland cotton, 40 bales domestics, 314
hales sea island cotton, 868 bbls rosin, 33 bbls
pitch, 220 bbls spirits turpentine, 21 bales hides,
53.260 feet lumber, 13 bbls oranges, 43 bbls fish,
4.133 crites oranges, 294 bbls cotton seed oil, 182
tens pie iron, T 6 crates vegetables, 55 turtles, 68
pkgs mdse.
PASBEMtiER3.
Per steamship Wm Crane, from Baltimore—
H Scarboro, F E Gowell, ft \V Chambless, Mrs P
S May, J Hirshberg, ft C Eaton, Miss Hilton, J
Jackson.
BOOK-KEEPERS OF TO-DAY.
They Have Supplanted all the Old
lime Accountants.
From the New York Star.
In the good old days when took-lfeoping
was considered a fine art, and in many
senses a profession, the ambitious youth
prepared himself for a place in the ranks of
the book-keepers by much study and a long
apprenticeship. Those wero the halcyon
days when to be the book-keeper of a well
known and long-established business firm
was to assure ones-self a permanent position
in life with a comfortable salary attached to
It. More than this even, it sometimes as
sured the competent and faithful employe an
eventual share in the business, or at least an
independence of control from new comers
in the firm, which grew and increased as
tho years of his service were prolonged.
That was the era when the kindly and
gracious book-keeper, gray-haired and ven
erable, was like the old-:ime lawyer, who
knew all the firm’s secrets and kept them
faithfully. “The house” was to him dearer
than anything else in the world. Its busi
ness trials, its successes, its troubles, and its
embarrassments were to him the stories that
touched nearest bis daily life. He was a
power, too, in the business relations of the
house.
Thirty or forty years ago the book-keeper
was a vastly more important individual
than he is to-day. He was a factor in the
conduct of the most serious enterprises un
dertaken by the Arm. He was consulted,
and his opinions were much thought of.
The reason for this is obvious.
The meu of money in those days inter
ested in business wore, to a great extent,
self-made men. Their e location was
limited. They had very little knowledge of
accounts, and a balanco sheet was about as
much as they could understand, or as they
cared to understand. So it came about that
the accountant was really a keeper of the
company’s safe and, practically, of its
money. They were generally very faithful
servants, and, considering the freedom they
were allowed and the almost unlimited
money which wns in their control, very few
defalcations ever occurred.
There were big salaries paid in those
days to men of this stamp and of approved
•“kill. Indeed, some of the yearly stipends
w ere surprisingly large in comparison with
the profits of the business and the purchas
ing power of the dollar at that time.
business concerns, whose yearly profits
were hardly more than $B,OOO or $lO,OOO,
very readily paid their book-keeper from
$2,000 to $3,000 a year.
The social standing of the book-keenor of
a largo business firm was far different
from what it is to-day.
'iVuh a salary such its has boon mentioned,
be could afford to five in comparative lux
ury, with a bis own, a:.d he could
save from bis income sufficient to leave his
lam dy in no niggardly circumstances.
The book-keeper was a personage of cou
sequenee in the community in which be re-
T, ‘ e . chur <* which he attended
looked up to him as one of the pillars .if the
congregation, and in all respects be was re
markable a; a grave, roverend. and impor
tant individual.
Thev- we ea selfish set in some wavs,
these cld bo >k-ke?pers. They had their
guilds, a-d jealously guarded the knowl
edge which, by years of study, they hnd
acquired. They allowed only a certain
nunitier of apprentices, and th se we'e
cuo-en from among toe sons and nearest
relatives of the mem tiers of the guild. Ttie
old boys were shrewd enough to maintain
their own commercial value by limiting the
number of those to whom they w .uld im
part their precious knowledge. Their rules
in this respect were as strictly enforced as
are the r iles of a printers’ chapel at the
present time.
To-dav all these things are changed. The
old- time b.ok-keeper exists no longer, or if
he does exceptionally exist, it is in the far
away corner of some ancient business house
which sail clings to the antique methods of
half a century ago.
There are a good many causes which may
be assigned for the decay and fall of the
mass of men once so powerful as account
auts in busine3i houses. The main one is
that in the large cities of the United States
the market became suddenly over-supplied
with bright, brainy, and brilliant you ig
fellows, anxious to make a living and ready
to take places as book-keepers at almost any
salary. They sprung from the commercial
colleges, and it was these colleg s that
practically swept out of existence the old
sty.e of book-keeper. They turned out ac
countants by the scores—well equipped,
competent, practical fellows, hustlers ii
business, ready to labor hard and long for
slight compensation.
They, too, in their callow days, doubt
less, dreamed that later on, as they grew in
experience, knowledge and importance to
the farm, they would become the trusted
and confidential employes, and in ten or
t wenty years might acquire an interest in
the business. Any of them who may have
hilgged that sweet delusion to his heart
within the last ton years, and who has con
tinued a book-keeper, has long since sadly
but surely relinquished it. The business in
stitutions that are being built up to-day are
not dividing their profits with their book
keepers, and are not inviting them to places
in the firms.
Tho man who earns sls a week as a
bookkeeper in a business firm in New York
or any of tbe large ciries of to-day, with a
semi-certaintv of permanency, iR considered
a lucky book-keeper. The majority of them
do not receive that amount. There are a
few princes of the science, however, who
exercise their knowledge in the large banks,
the government buildings, in brokers’
offices, or in some of our largest counting
houses, who receive even more dollars a
year than some of the old-time accountants,
but these are phenomena among book
keepers, and are few and far between.
An advertisement inserted to-day in anv
one of tbe daily papers of New York asking
for an experienced accountant willing to
assume charge of the books of a firm for a
salary of 5? 10 a week would doubtless bring
an array of applications that would make
tbe most skep.ical wonder how they in
tended to live on the $lO a week. A ma
jority of them would prove to be men with
families to support on this income.
The worries of a bookkeeper in a large
mercantile house are not few or seldom.
The man who wrestles with a set of books
is just as human as any of us, and, no mat
ter how careful he may be, ho will most as
suredly make mistakes occasionally, and a
small one is as bad us a large one. In fact,
a large one is s oner discovered than a
petty one. At auy rate, in case of an error,
his calculations must be revised time and
again till tbe mistake is discovered. Sup
pose his cash to be wrong; it may be onlv a
few cents or a few dollars, but it is all the
same to him a cause of worry and embar
rassment. True, if the account shows a
surplus, he can put the difference in his
pocket, but the honest man will not do
this. Still less, should the difference be
him, can he put his haud in his own
pocket and draw from his meager salary to
make his cash straight.
The truth is, the glory of the book-keeper
has departed from the laud. He is no
longer a facror in big business operations.
His advice is not asked when important
enterprises are to be undertaken by his firm.
The old and loyal employe, who knew the
innermost family and business secrets of the
partners, old and young, has passed into
the realms of history and exists to-day only
in some cf the old establishments in Eng
land and the continent, where, from genera
tion to generation, the same business tradi
tions are handed down from father to
son. Practically, he has no place iu Amer
ican business bouses, save in a few excep
tional cases where an old firm clings to
the old business methods. The new book
keepers are bustling, rollicking, bright
young fellows, fresh from school or college,
ready to take up the first occupation that
comes in their way; careless about salary
and trampling dowu tradition, intending to
keep at a book-koeper’s desk only long
enough to secure a place in the dish and
push of the salesroom, where a myriad of
opportunities exist for earning big salaries
and obtaining excellent business connec
tions.
The bright and successful salesman to
day is the autocrat iu business circles. The
old-time book-keeper used to be, but lie is so
no longer.
DIDN’T CUT THE PIGEON WING.
The Javanese Dancing at the Paris
Exposition.
From Scribner's Magazine.
The Javanese dancers were a troupe of an
altogether different chrra -ter, and it is only
just to credit the gout faisande of the Paris
ians with preferring them to the flagrant
and turbulent contortions of the Gitanas.
They were neither noisy nor abandoned.
The music was slow, regular, and savage
only in timbre. It tortured the nerves in
an insidious and unsuspected way only—
like certain forms of Chinese punish
ment, which at first seem wholly
bearable —and did not assail
them violently, as did that of the Span
ish and Egyptian virtuosi. And to its un
phrased, unmodulated monotony the dancers
moved with trailing ste sin slow—infinitely
slow —curves, wreathing their arms, or
rather their hands, with the wrist as a
pivot, in a sinuous sedateness quite impos
sible to characterize or describe. As taey
circled about the little stage, a soleuin-vis
aged youth in—perhaps—full canonicals,
surrounded by a group of attendant girls,
they seemed to be performing a series of barn
yard evolutions, as of a slowly-strutting
cock encircled by his harem of hens. It was
decorous to the point of solemnity, and the
sense of measure was certainly preserved to
an almost measureless degree. The da>cers
were never carried beyond themselves by
the entrain of the dace, but very visibly
and agreeably controlled and regulatoi
their gestures and poses. In this sense the
performance was clearly an artistic one.
But at the end of a half hour the observer
who did not find it monotonous must have
been a determined seeker after sensations.
The elaborate but limited sinuosity of toe
wuving hands and flexible wri ts seem'd at
last perfectly insipid and, instea I of being
intentional, merely the reduction 1 1 a fac
titious appearance of order, of movements
in reality hap-hazard and fortuitous, by a
slowing of the pace to such a i extent that
the sense of slowness disguised the lac it of
character in the design. After the Git anas
any exhibition of decorum was agreeable,
but before long the emptiness of pure deco
rum made itself dismally perceived. and
one could not help thinking that tne Paris
ian amateurs who went into ecstasies over
tbo Javanese did not analyze their sensa
tions with sufficient assiduity.
Whit an absurd habit that is Of young
Dailey's -alwavs sucking his cane.
Susie -I thin kitis a good plan. It keeps him
from talking, you know.—Life.
ITHF. MORNING NEWS: THURSDAY. DECEMBER26,IBB9.
THINGS A RIFLEMAN SEES.
The Curious incidents of Many
Matches.
F rom the Sew York Times.
“The r. fleman in his sport has a good deal
to hook after. He has a great many annoy
ances, but, as a rule, be has as many devices
ready at hand to meet them whoa they
come up.”
That is the way Sorgt. Major William B.
Coughtry of the Seventh regiment put the
case to a reporter yesterday. "But,” he
added, “there is one thing that when it
happens is bound to spoil the best shot ever
aimed, irrespective of skill, judgment, expe
rience, or training.”
“What is that?" asked the reporter.
It is the accidental killing of birds on
the wing by the rifleman's bullet. Why, at
4 reedmoor, time a.id again, I have been
shooting at 1,000 yards, and have been
making a string of bull’s-eyes and fours,
when suddenly, after firing, I wouid find
that I hadn’t hit the target. At fust this
was inexplicable. I couldn’t understand
how it was, and it nettled me not a little.
One day,after I had finished firing,one of the
range keefters brought mo three swallows,
which he had picked ud, he said, on the
ranee over which I had been shooting. One
bad its head cut off clean. The others were
a mass of bones and feathers. The long
bolt-like bullets had struck them by ciiauce
as they flew across the range aud had com
pletely shattered them. Of course it’s un
f irtunate for the birds, but it’s unlucky
from the rifleman’s point of view as well.
“When the range was opened such an
aecidont was common. It is an exceedingly
annoying thing for the rifleman who, after
eareful judgment, fires his shot only to seo
the grass wave contentedly and the target
undecked by any disk.
“Now, as to devices. I remember an in
stance which showed how the riilenun tri
umphs over trying conditions. Is was some
time ago, at Creeslmoor, while shooting in
an association match. The day began with
a haze that afterward showed’signs of be
coming a fog. The targets were seen with
difficulty, as we wero shooting at 000 yards.
The man on the next range was doing some
excellent work aiqi bidding fair to got ttie
priz But the fog continued to drift in
until the targets were entirely blotted out.
The various contestants s.op. ed firing, with
the excop.ion of one ru in on the range
alongside, who hung to it like tho fog to the
ground, and kept banging away ut the
clouds. Those who had stopped, of course,
jerred him. but, nevertheless, ids bullets
sent back through the mists a thud that
gave cause for decided reasons for thinking
that, p rliaps, ho was ‘getting on’ tho
target in spite of the fog.
"Finally some of tho nervous ones seat
messengers do wn to the butts, who returned
with the news that the marksman was not
only getting on the target, but was getting
on tho bull’s-eyes, with an occasional 4 and
3. The fog began to thicken, but ho kept
up the fusillade and finally ended, winning
by a good score. He afterward confided to
me that just before the fog came up by
mining just over the left corner of the
stake at 500 yards he carno pretty close
to the bull’s-eye. W hen tho fog came up
he could see tne stake, though the targets
were obscured, and knowing his elevation
aud windage all ho had to do was to fire
over the stake.
“There are many things that affect tho
bullet in its flight, especially shooting at
long ranges, like 1,000 yards. Take tbe
question of wind alone. After the ball
leaves the rifle-barrel it has a trajectory of
from to i to thirty feet, the steeper part of
the fall occurring as is approaches tho
targets. In going down the range it may
meat currentsof air above the rifleman, and
of which he knows nothing. Tnen there
may be eddies of wind dowu tho range. I
have often noticed that tbe flags on th: em
bankment at Creedmor painted iu different
directions from those along tho ranges.
“In shootiug when there is a high wind
blowing, the rule ordinarily is, when tho
wind is increasing in strength to shoot dur
ing the gusts, and When it is decreasing to
shoot during the intervals of calm, the ob
ject being to secure uniformity of condi
tions. Another annoyance is the back
draught which is due to the embankment
behind the targets. When the wind is
blo ving toward the bank strong currents
are sent back by its resistance, and these
considerably depress the bullet iu its flight
w hen they come far enough back. A puff
of wind may strike the bullet just after
firing aud deflect it considerably.
“Stray cloudsjjare a nuisance. Take a
bright day, with occasional clouds, and thev
try the temper of tho rifleman, especially at
long ranges. A cloud casting a shadow over
the targets will make the buil’s-eyo drop an
inch or more. This I proved once by fast
ening tiie barrel of my rifle in a vise and
fixing it on the bull’s-eye. I watched the
target through the barrel and the bull’s-eye
dropped like a flash as soon as a shadow
struck the target.
"The elevation needed to secure the high
curve of the thirty-foot trajectory is some
times convenient, I was once shooting
with Col. John P. M. Richards at Creed
moor, over the same range and at the same
target, whea he was firing right behind me.
lie was firing from the 1,000-yard stake,
and I was firing at the 800-yard mark, and
the colonel’s bullets whistled over my head
above me. The elevation he was usiug
made me perfectly safe. Nervous? O, no;
I knew my man. I wouldn’t do it, of
course, with everyoody.
“Glare is another bother. At Dolly
mount iu 1875 it was very annoying, j ar
ticularly on a cloudy day, when the targets,
having no background, took the same
gray color as the clouds, the only thing dis
tinguishable being the small pinhead-like
bull's-eye). To is has been largely overcome
by tbe system of ‘spotting’ and ‘registra
tion,’ where the rifleman simply keeps
watch of the cardboard ta get of the ‘spot
ter,’ who watches the shots through a tele
scope at the firing p int, and records them
with pins stuck on a target. Then the rifle
mon, regulating his elevation by the regis
ter, can put a shot very nearly in the same
place as the man who fires before him. This
is a groat relief to the eye, and a rifleman
can shoot a match with little reference to
wa*e flag the targets away dowu the field.
“Wimbledon is a bad place. Eleven
months in a year it is an open heath, and
the ‘fi-htail breeze’ there so well known is a
nuisance of an annoying kind. It is, of
course, due to tho peculiar ground forma
tion. It deflects the bullet greatly. Some
times I have had to aim o,i a target of
another ra ige to overcome its drifting.
Candidly, I did not like Wimbledon. Its
ranges are at random angles, and you have
to look out that you are snooting over your
own range. You have to keep a continual
watch of the danger flags.
“A peculiar instance of the effect tem
perature has o i a rifle, particularly the
lock, occurred once when I was shooting a
state match at Creedm >or. For some
reason the temperature swelled the mechan
ism in the lock so that tne piece would
not go off when held horizontally, but
would work ail right when held at an angle
of 60°. Yes, temperature is a thing the
rifleman has to watch, and the ‘foxy’ marks
man who comes into toe match to have the
weights applied to test the trigger puil is
pretty careful to have tho piece c 01.
"There are innumerable hobbies in aim
ing. and many riflemen have th -ir favorite
sp ris on tho target at which to direct their
ann. Some ta-te the top of the targ it, s >me
oae corner. Most men take a full sight on
the bull, but many others aim at the lower
left-hand edge. Position is another hobby,
and there are all sorts of theories'. For
long-range firing 1 prefer lying on the face
to lying on the back. The recoil comes
more directly on the ground. In changing
aim, at a standing p osition, it is w.-U to do
so from the hips alone, not disturbing the
arm position.
“la long-range firing my experience sug
gests that smaller and thinner cartridges
should be used, with a thinner and longer
bullet. This wouid flatten tho trajectory,
and would require less powder. A rifle
should not be over 45 calibre, and one‘of
4il is-large enough. The sight and barrels
of the military ride should bo browned, 1
think.” I
KANGAROO SHOES TH-1 R AGE.
Their Manufacture Is Increasing, for
Amrricans Like Them.
From the New York Star.
Most extensive has been the use 0 f kan
garoo skins in tbe United Stves. R has
been spreading ever since their inr oductlon
in this country, and every first-claw shoe
store now carries a stock of kangaroo boots
and shoes of every description. Footgear
made of such material cjsis ail the way
from s:’> to SB. No leather manufactured is
so well adapted for summer slices in this
country. Dealers say that k-mgar.o leather
makes a lighter, finer finished, and tougher
shoe than any other description of loa her.
It is also more flexible and is .-o-ses a
greater degree of elasticity, and for this
reas m is considered the most superior
leather in use for teudor feet.
Down in the “Sw amp" a Star reporter
the other day met R. G. Salomon, who
has made a special study of kangaroo tkins
aud their adaptability for shoe manu
facturing purposes. From him soma verv
interesting facts were gathered iu relation
to the industry in this couutrv.
The receipts of kangaroo skins in the
United Stales now aggregate 10,1)00 a week,
and of these B,<JUO a e tanned at what is
known as the Hamburg Cardovan tannery
at Newark. The stock of hides cunes al
most entirely from Australia aud New Zea
land. The kringurooß aie killed in Aus
tralia about 300 miles from the o ust. This
takes place at numerous sections iu
the interior, whence the hides are shipped
to Melbourne, Adelaide, Sydney, and New
Castle, in Australia. Masterton i. the prin
cipal market in New Zealand. Much diffi
culty was at first experienced in securing
shipments, as the kangaroos were for many
years killed and eaten iu Australia, aud
tlikir hides wero cut up into shoestrings. A
man named Brown was the first to embark
in the venture of shipping tho commodity
to this country. This occurred some
twenty yoars since. Brown shipped sev
eral thousand skins to the United States and
attempted to dispose of them to tauners,
having previ usly discovered the wonder
ful consistency iu the leather. American
tanners, however, did not greet Brown with
open arms, and he was compelled to dis
pose of his watos to a bookbinder, who
utilized tho stuff in making triangular cor
ner pieces in ledgers aud other commercial
books. This proved a stepping-itone to its
more extensive use luter on. The wonder
ful tenacity of the leather attracted the
attention of good judges of 1. atUer,
who also discovered that the grain in
the skin was three times as thick
as that in any other. It was
also found that tho fibers were inter
woven, which toughens the grain, so fiat
it ex tiled other leathers for manufacturing
purposes. A remarkable fact in connection
with the experiments instituted was, that
strength is in inverse proportion to the
weight. This disc overy at once arrested
the attention of exports, who declared that
tbi i quality alone would place kangaroo
without a peer, and mako it exactly the
sort of leather sought for by Americans.
Kangaroo leather will not absorb water
as easily as other leather, owing to its com
pactness. Another point in its favor is t lie
re-istanca which it offers to the acids in
blacking.
Tne first years of the introduction of
kangaroo skins in this country wero marked
by great difficulty in securing necessary
supplies. Agents ware sent abroad to to
cure supplies sufficient to moot the demand.
Tne climatic characteristics of Australia
and the pugnacious proclivities of the kan
garoo were serious drawback-. Considera
ble danger attended tho hunting for the
kangaroos. Winter starts in May and ends
in December, the rost of the year being
summer and excessively hot, with scorch
ing winds and the thermometer often
climbing up to 140’.
The kangaroos usually are hunted by a
group of eight men. When brought to bay,
the incidents are of the most exciting nat
ure. Not infrequently tne animal jumps
like a flash for the hunter’s c lest, a id at
tempts to orush it with Ids fore feet. For
this reason each man’s breast is thickly
padded with matting several inches in
thickness. Tbe hunters are armei with
spears with a club attachment at the butt
end. Thus equipped and mounted on swift
horses, they dash “into a herd of kanga
roos with the agility and equipoiso of circus
riders, almost constantly standing erect
upon their steeds, while they flourish their
spears and clubs with remarkable dexterity.
The kangar >o is able to jump clear over a
hors>. As the garue is bagged it is deprived
of its coat, which is stretched on the ground
and pegged flown to prevent shrinkage.
The flash furnishes food for the camp.
There are twenty differed sorts of kan
karoos, including, blue, red. Wallaby, black,
gray and Forrester. Tne latter is the most
popular, and is said to furnish tbe best
leather. This arises from tbe fact that the
Forrester lives mainly in wooded sections.
On the sea coast the skins are disposed of by
auction to the big nest bidder. The average
price is in tho neighborh od of 75 cents per
pound. The hunters make flue incomes,
the gains of some of them amounting to
thousands of dollars a year.
Newark transacts a big business in kanga
roo tanning. Americans generally are em
ployed in the business, a? other dealers
cannot afford to pay the high prices for the
raw material. Shipments are made direct
from Newark to aud L mdoifc, as well
as Germany, Greece, and Spain. Even
Australia is supplied by Newark.
Mr. Salomon fears that tho extermination
of the kangaroo will work serious in jury to
American tanners. In order to guard
against this, he has recently communicated,
through Secretary Roobens, of the Society
for the Protection of Fauna and Flora at
Adelaide, calling the attention of tho South
Australian parliament to the danger that
confronts them; and a bill is now
pending in parliament for the
prevention of tho killing of kangaroos
during the months of January, February,
March, and April. It has already passed
its first reading, and, if finally carried, it
will insure the continuation of a supply of
kangaroos for years to come. If not, it is
feared ttiat within a brief period tho kanga
roo will be as extinct as has been tho buffalo
on the American plains.
The Women Might Have Caught Him.
From the New York Tribune.
An enterprising burglar, skilled and cun
ning at his trade, was working industri
ously at the basement-door of No. 123
East Seventy-third street ono night re
cently. Ho bad removed the obstacles that
held the lower part of the door, and with a
“jimmy” was fast forcing tha frail bolt at
the top when he was suddenly interrupted
by a woman’s voice from the second-story
window, asking him what he was doing
there. Looking up, the burglar saw th >
faces of three woman, tbe only occupants of
the house, gazing dowu upon him. His
only answer was to crouch as closely to
the wall as Ie couid.
“What are you doing down there, can’t
you answer?” agai i asked tbe voice from
above. Still the burglar sea med to be em
barrassed at the question anil remained
discreetly silent.
“Well,” exclaimed tho voice again, shrill
and full of determination, “if you won’t
answer, I’ll try to make you.” and tho
woman seizxl a huge bottlo of Bloom of
Youth from the dresser at her elbow,
whirled it with all her might at the burg
lar.
Her aim was not accurate, but the bottio
struck tbe stono coping justubove the burg
lar’s head, coveriag the long black coat
whidh he wore from neck to heels with the
white, sticky stuff. Wishing to avoid
another bomhardrmnt, the burglar made a
sudden dash and got under the short ver
anda between the two oarlow windows,
lie was safe here for a time, at least.
Meanwhile, one of tho women had gone
to tho front of the house to give the alarm.
Hhe raised tbe window, and to her delight
and surprise saw the portly form of “one
of the liuest” on the opposite side of the
street. ‘'Policeman,” she said softly.
“Veil?" answered the represents!ivo of
the law.
“There is a burglar in our back yard,
and you caa o.itch him if you hurry, O,
do i lease hurry, we are nearly frightened
to death. We shall die if you don’t get
him out of our yard!”
“You vas got to waid a minute. It’s
better os vot I got some help already.”
With this the fearless guardian of the
peace rushed as fast as ue could with his
250 pounds of fat down to Lex
ington aveuue and blew his
whistle and threw his club on
the flagstones, making sufficient noi-e to
aw aken the dead. Soon be was joined Py
a brother officer, who bore a striking re
semblance to the late lamented McGinty.
But the burglar during the interval bad
not been idle. He was patient enough
until he heard the alarm, aud
then be put off with all speed,
taking cl nnccs of flying bullets,
to escape. He ran to the rear of tho yard,
scaled the fe ice, and was gone.
The front and >or was thrown open for th
policemen, aud with gt eat night sticks and
revo.vers in their . auds they wanted to
knnv where the burglar w as.
“In the back jard,” said tho young
woman, who was not aware of the burg
lar’s flight.
“Yust you go aheat unt show us der way
alreaty,” suggested ttie German
"No I wont," she answered. “You are a
big, strong man. Go ahead yourself.’
“Begob the ladv is roight. Go ahid
yours-T and I’ll folly ye wid me pistol. If
I see de blatbeiin spalpeen I’ll slit ot the
divil out of him, so I will,” declared the
McGinty contingent.
The three moved quietly on until tho
kitchen was readied aud the door stood
before them.
“Now lady,” whispored tho German,
“votisde madder mit your obeuiug do
door guick vileve catch dot thief.”
“No. 1 won’t go near the door,” declared
the frightenod girl. "Ooeu It yourself.
You are paid fore itching thieves.”
“Be heavens, ye have a nerve, so ye have,
to want the ladv to open the door, Opeu
it your-el' while I hould me pistol. I’ll
shoot the mu. dering blagart full of hob s
if he do move ali ger toward you, I will,
so I will,” sad policeman number two.
Courageously tho officer pulled open the
do >r aud w ith a war-whoop lie sprang into
tho yard only to battle with darkness, while
his companion stood in tho door with his
club raised aloft, in his left hand and his
revolvor held out in front of him with the
other, his eyes sticking out of his head.
Policeman number two was true to his
word. If the burglar had been present he
would hove ha 1 a hard time, The yard
was carefull. explored aud evidences found
where the thief had beaten his hasty re
treat. During this time the woman in the
kitchen had been joined by tbe others from
the second floor. The three stood huddled
together shivering from cold and frig it.
“Faith and whor’s the min folks of the
house,” asked policeman number two, ad
dressing them. “And where is ycur hus
bant?”
“We havo no husband,” replied the
young woman.
“Arrah aud begob that’s too bad,” said
tho Irishman.
“Yah it vos too I at, (lav ought to have
gotoneabiece at least alreaty,” remarked
the German sympathetically.
With this the ablo preteotors of law and
order left the house. Next day a carpenter
was engaged putting holts and locks on
every door uatil tbe house now would be
called burglar-proof. But that is not all.
Pistol reports are frequentl) head fri) n tho
cellar, which has been transformed into a
sort of a shooting-gallery. Tie women
practice with revolveis daily. A thief that
visits ihe house now would be lucky if lie
escaped with bis life, aud no policeman
would bo called in.
THOUSANDS OF CIGAR BOXES.
Making Thom is a Great Industry.
What Becomes of Them All?
From the Philadelphia Inquirer.
“Over 20,000,009 cigars aro manu
factured every day in the United Sta es
alone,” said a prominent dealer the other
day, “aud this enormous number requires
iu the neigaliorhood of 400,000
boxes for their keeping. Con
sequently there are over 200 factories in the
country turning out boxes as fait, or faster,
than cigars are made to till them. And it is
surprising what an extensive and expensive
plant is required for the making of cigar
boxes. A complete box-m iking plant is a
planing-mill, a silk-spinning mill, and a
printing establishment combined. Besides
putting the pieces of wood together, a fully
equipped factory weaves aud fixes up its
own silk ribbon wrappers, and does its own
printing.
The wood of which those boxes are made
comes from Mexico, Central America, and
tbe West Indies. The manufacturers use
very little besides red cedar, and that kind
of timber is rather scares in this country.
They buy the wood for these boxes in large,
heavy logs, and then cut them up to suit
themselves. Only the cheaper grades of
boxefl are made from poplar, cut in the
west, which is afterward stained to imitate
the rod cedar. But the only real good wood
for packing cigars is the cedar wnich com@3
from Mexico, Central America, and the
Wo3t ludies. The cedar wo <d has a pecul
iar pungent odor, which adds very much
to the taste and flavor of a good cigar.
Th s quality of the cedar is recognize 1 by
the p rk packers, for they take ail t le cedar
sawdust to use as fuel in curing their extra
grades of bacon.
“In the fl: st ( lace the logs are out up into
thin layers or veneers. These are taken to
the drying department, where they are
placed on racks for a day or so to dry out
thoroughly. Tho veneers are then run
through heavy steel rollers and thus come
out neatly polished. After being sawed
into strips the veneers are cut up into
proper lengths. The pieces are now ready
to be put together into tbe form of a box.
The pieces are nailed together, not by hand,
but by machines. The only thing done by
hand is the lids. Workmen take a narrow
strip of cloth and paste it on the edge of the
lid in order to form a hinge for tho box.
This being done, the inside linings and labels
are affixed. Lettering on the wooden sides
of cigar boxes is done by printing presses
much hoavier than in newspaper offices.
A great deal of care is taken in telocting
labels, for it is not uncommon that a
gorgeous, high-colored lithographed label
sells a cigar. But only the poorer grades
of cigars are now advertised by means of a
flaring label. The hatter grades of cigars
have, its a rule, a neat and inconspicuous
sign. Thus some Havanas are satisfied to
commend their good points to smokers bv a
wise or witty motto, while others are con
tent witli a pretty Spanish or Cuban home
scene. Yet these modest labels are quite
an item in the cost of a box, as ari h. quiet
lookiug label may cost about 5 or (> cents
apiece.
“There is a mystery about cigar boxes,
namely: Where do they go after once being
used? The law requires that the stamps
aud printed sides shall be defaced, and thus
the box is rendered useless. A groat manv
boxoi aro made over into new ouo-i. A large
box holding 250 cigars can easily be cut
down into one holding 100. One manufact
urer recently enduavore 1 to get around the
law by cutting up tho old boxei, and by
calling it kindling wo A was net prevented
for a time from using boxes over again.
But most of the boxei are really used for
fire wood. Asa good cigar box costs from
3to 6 cents, it seems wasteful to urn them
in this way. Old cigar boxes are put to ail
kinds of curious uses. Home are kept by
lovers for their letters; others take the place
of a bafe, and are used to Hide money in ;
while others still are used for nail boxes.
Thousands of boxes, which every yes r are
cast aside after having been mutilated aud
defaced, go nobody kuows where.”
But.vtword—What’s this talk about
abolishing congress?
Caucus —Hadn’t heard of it.
B.—Why, thii schema for compelling
members aud senators to pass a civil service
examination. — Hutchinson (Kxn.) News.
McCrackle -Do you know what the boys
say to Santa Claus?
McCorkle—No; what do they say?
McCrackle—What are you givm’ u?—
Munsey's W eekly.
CLOTHING.
xMKKRY SAME TO
CHRIST- _. ...
MAS! 'YOU!
llbaaLaLLtau lIIIIUI IIIIIJULLLL mmmnmgnt.smm.mmm, I——
Drop in and buy something that will
show for itself when Christmas is gone.
Silk, Liinen, and Initial Hand*
kerchiefs.
-Foster, Paul, and Adler’s Ivid
Ct loves.
Grold and Silver-Headed Silk
Umbrellas.
Pine Neckwear.
Knox and Stetson Hats.
Pine Smoking Jackets.
And the largest and finest line of Cloth
ing and Overcoats in the city.
Popular Prices.
15. IT. LEVY & BRO.
IMMENSE SUCCESS.
Our large purchase at the recent clearance sale of one of tho best clothfng manufac
turers (a notice of which appeared in tho nows columns of the press) U duly appreciated
by the Savannah public. There are still some of the
BARGAINS ON SALE.
OVERCOATS, ULRTERS, BUSINESS BUITS and DRESS SUITS, in the greatest
variety and of tho best fabric*. An early call secures the choic st styles, as NOTHING
IN THIS SALE CAN BE DUPLICATED AT PKESEN ! PRICES.
Our direct importation of ENGLISH UNDERWEAR, DRESSING GOWNS and
SMOKING JACKETS, will pleas' the most fastidi us, and the JAEGER SANITARY
WOOLEN UNDERWEAR, of wnich we are the sole agouts, is acknowledged to be tbe
most reliable.
A. FALK & SONS,
Reliable Outfitters, 161 Broughton St.
SHOE*.
■ ■■■l W. L. DOUGLASS’ name and tbe price ar*
flf e?U SB I QH U B’lifa stamped on the bottom of all Shoes advertise.
R J awl SLA R B Wkrilf H oil h 7 him before leasing ru factory; this protect*
A ■ ” the wearers against HIGH PRIGUft and INFB”
RIOR GOODS. Take none iinleaa so stamped, nor be deceived by others c!a med to be as good!
on which dealers make more profit, but send direct to factory, and received by return mail wba 6
you want. State kind—button, congress or lace, w ide or narrow toe size, aud Width usually worn,
and inclose price with order. Prompt delivery and satisfaction guaranteed. Address
VV. L. DOUGLAS, Brockton, Mass.
tw. L. DOUGLAS
$ 3 SHOE GENTLEMEN
Our claims for this shoe over all other S3
ahoeeadvertised are;
Itcontalns better material.
It is more stylish, better fitting and durable.
It gives better general satisfaction.
It saves more money for tne consumer.
Its great success is due to merit.
It cannot be duplicated by any other menu-
It is the best in the world, and has a larger
demand than any other $3 shoe advertised.
<£ c nnn wlll '** P ai<110 * ay r Msr °o who Win
UUU prove the above statements to be {
Thef ollowing line of shoes wiU be found t*
be of he seme high standard of excellence.
W.YOO GEM l\K H AMI-MCWED SHOE.
Jtl.OO li VMI-aKWKD WELT SHOE.
O tt.'I.AD POLICE tMIKABMKHK SHOE.
7 Sx.AO EXTRA VALUE CALF SHOE.
/ *2 2.3 WOKKI.MSM V.VS SHOE.
h?.oogood-%vear minK.
82 DO find (M. 79 BOVS’SCHOOL SHOES.
All made In Congress, Button and Laoe.
I. L. DOUGLAS $3 AND S2 SIOES
Both Ladles' Shoes are made In sizes from 1 to 7. Including half sizes, and B, C, D, E snd EE widths
STYLES OF LADIES' SHOES.
“The French Opera.” ‘The Spanish Arch Opera,” "The American Common Sense,” “The Me
dium Common Sense.” All made iu Button In the Latest Styles. Also, French Opera in Front
1 ace, on $3 Shoe only.
nnrpm w. l. doijglas $3 grain shoe (Uced)
UI Lila ML for Gentlemen, with heavy tap solo and
strictly waterproof, is just out.
VV. L. DOUGLAS, Brockton, Mass.
FOR BALE BY
BYCK BUGS., THE GLOBE SHOE STORE,
17 Whitaker Street, 169 Broughton Street,
SAVANNAH. - GEORG-IA.
n A RmS vRK, FT C.
George F. Drew Hardware Cos.,
40 and 4 2 East Bay St., - Jacksonville, Fla.
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL
HARDWARE, SASH, DOORS AND BUNDS. STOVES AND TINWARE.
STATE AGENTS for Revere Rubber Company’s Giaat Stitched Rubber Belting, Henry Dintoa
Si Sons* Circular Saws, Nicholson Files, Sterling Bmorv Wheel*, Alligator Axes, Simond’s Cres
cent Ground Coarse Cut Saws, Starke’s Genuine Dixie Plows, Buffalo Standard scales, Longman
A’ Martinez Paints. B. F. Avery A Sons' Steel Plows, Iron Age Hand Garden Tools, “Medal Brand*’
Roofing Felt, Thomas Roberts Stevenson Company's Heating and Cooking Stoves and Ranges
HEADQUARTERS for lowa 4-Point Barn Wire, Kilbourue & Jacobs'Wheelbarrow, Atlantic
Whit* IjeaU, Campbell & Thayer's Oil and Painters’ Supplies.
All orders shipped immediately on receipt. Correspondence solicited.
MILIUS So GO. I Holiday Goods and Christmas Gifi
Choioe Selections. Desirable Goods. Popular Prices.
HAND DAOS, PLUSH GOODS, CAPS, I RUCHINGS,
POCKET BOOKS, DOLLS, WRAPS. I COLLARS.
BASKETS, TRIPLICATE MIR SHAWLS. I COLLARETTES,
PICTURE FRAMES, RORS, SCISSORS, CAPES. . | SCARFS & FICHUS
Hes* Assortment of HANDKERCHIEFS in the city, sc. to $7 50 each.
JEWELRY. CORSETS, KNIT GOODS, SUSPENDERS,
COLOGNES, GLOVES, JERSEYS, UMBRELLAS,
EXTRACTS, HOSIERY, BLOUSES, FINE NECKWEAR,
SOAPS, UNDERWEAR. JACKETS, NIGHT ROBES.
Elegant Line Umbrellas from $t to sl6 50. Drives In Silk Handkerchiefs, 50c. to $1 25. Canes
Canes, Canes, fancy bandies,9Bc. to sl4. Exquisite Styles in "Auerbach’s” Neckwear, 500. to $2
All gissis marked in plain figures Choice Novelties Just receive!
MILIUS & CO., - 159 BROUGHTON ST
Latest publications Arundel Library, 9c.; Arlington Library, 18c.; Red Line Poets, ,59c. *
7