Newspaper Page Text
SAVANNAH’S TRADE BY SHIPS.
, lOTVL OF *07,218,(K57 REACHED
1 LAST VEAH.
llie , o„tnto Exports f30.142.281
nd the ForelKß Exports #25,075,-
An Increase Over the Average
the Preceding Fifteen Tears of
over .55.000.000 Everything In
.luiieil l* ~,e Exports From As-
Mlt n to Chewing Gnn. and Tar
Terrapin— Cotton, Jiitvnl Stores,
~,,,, her. Hides, Tobacco, Vege
table* and W 00l Among the Lend
111# Articles of Export.
Mr . William B. Adams, the veteran port
has submitted at} interesting
cateineiu showing the character, destina
quantity and value of the foreign (
, .|wise shipments from this port
' ,; . ihe year 1897 for publication in the
ji a - or s annual report.
T ’ he statement is very carefully eom
,l i,iui contains much interesting and
data. According to the state
r >n! . tlie total foreign exports for the
", r amounted to $28,073,786.07, and the
. t l -iwise shipments $39,142,290.78.
Co-ton, of course, composed the bulk of
, sports both coastwise and foreign.
uf upland cotton 381,203 bales, valued at
j,. ■, s were shipped coastwise, and 612,-
j.aios, valued at $19,603,308, were ship
,r foreign. Of sea islands, 42,452 bales,
, ~,1 at $2,547,120, were shipped coast
w alK i 15,634 bales, valued at $938,040,
v ,. rt . exported. Cotton was shipped for
tien to nineteen different European ports,
Dromon taking about half the exports.
The coastwise shipments of cotton all
,in to Baltimore, Boston, Philadelphia
and Now York.
There is considerable more variety at out
exports than the average person
v.ouki .xpect. Among the items are a
bicycle, valued at SIOO, and two dogs, val
ued at SSO, to St. Petersburg. Savannah
flipped pig iron to nine foreign ports to
th, amount of 21,058 tons, valued'at $210,-
uv and iron rails to Genoa, valued at
ii 1.719. Lumber was .shipped to sixteen
foreign ports, chiefly in South America,
to the value of $106,316.30.
Phosphate rook to the value of $889,970,
nas -hipped to seventeen foreign ports.
Hamburg and Rotterdam took $21,295 of
,iitch. iiosin had the widest distribu
li n of any product which left Savannah
Ling shipped to forty-eight foreign ports.
The amount shipped foreign was 856,378
barrels, valued at $2,569,134. Spirits tur
pentine to the value of $3,587,935 was ship
ped lo nineteen ports. Other items were
bauxite ore, to Rotterdam, $1,780; flotfr to
Liverpool, $41,230; rosin oil, $38,292; staves,
$3,595.52.
The coastwise shipments are of more in
terest, being of greater varietv, including
everything from asparagus to chewing
gum. The latter is not an unimportant
bem. $8,190 worth having been shipped to
Mew York.
Of canned goods, the steamship compan
!•- handled $31,836 worth. Clay is put down
in $157,966. Cotton seed oil was quite an
item, being put down at $669,615. While
there are no cotton factories in Savannah
just row, the shipments of domestics and
5 ims from Savannah last year, were val
ued at $2,749,850. Fruit is another large
iam, being down for $419,760.50. Hides
form another considerable factor of Sa
vannah's trade, the shipments last year
being valued at $1,450,635.
The shipments of pig iron were valued
a: r LiilO. Leather was also shipped to the
Lilae of SI6i),COO. The coastwise lumber
.5 amor.ts were valued at $1,993,780.03, and
tv. m to 19 ports.
5Vr-l umiise is credited with a value of
,
fhe value of oranges shipped coastwise,
vy.iv $84,788; oysters, $54,788; pitch. $38,685;
and < 973; shingles, $32,922.90; strawber
-528,330; terrapins, $9,760; tar, $8,450; to
00; turtles, $14,145.
The coastwise rosin shipments were 296,-
4 barrels, valued at $889,359, and rosin oil
to ihe value of $53,346. Of turpentine there
nv; e 77,734 casks shipped coastwise, val
b-1 it $1,321,478.
\ : notable shipments were valued at
$'15,637. Shipments of wool, 17,897 bales,
wo valued at $1,438,960. Shipments
w cigars were valued at $2,170,200.
A statement of the value of foreign and
coastwise shipments from 1882 to 1597 in
i usive is given. The value of coastwise
shipments last year was $39,142,291, an in
tr. use over the average value of the fif
bßn years preceding of 4,046,264. The
' - f ° rp *Bn exports for the year was
'-'Cm,7B6, 11 n increase over the average
v Hue of the preceding fifteen years of
$4,004,241.
FLORIDA SPECIAL'S WRECK.
-b*. Vlalloch of Savannah Was a
Passenger on the Train.
the vestibule train over the Plant sys
i'-m. No. 37, which should have arrived
! ■" >’> sterday morning at 9:01 o’clock, was
'5 'ayed by the collision it had with the
passenger train over the Atlanta Coast
" !n,J a lew miles west of Charleston. The
i 1 n did not get in until 7:50 o’clock last
1 It was minus a baggage and a din
:. these having been so badly dam
!':’ n 'he wreck as to make It Impossi
• tr.i them to be retained in the train.
" t ' !, r trains over the Plant system all
‘ ’ v ’ ’* on time. Mrs. John Malloch of Sa
"! was aboard the train at the time
1 1 " collision. She was returning from a
tn P *o New York.
assai lted a negro girl.
'"'eiglotl Her to His Jlnuite ly Cun
ning Methods.
1,1 " Hazzard, a 38-year-old negro, is in
1 1 k-up, on the charge of criminally
' lll 'iing a negro girl at No. 428 Lum
■ et. The arrest was made by Po
-1,1 Pronin, on information given him
of 'hi affair.
r. ported that Hazzard enticed the
1 h:s house, on the pretense he want
i a employ a cook. By the use of de
methods, he managed to get her
house, nfter which he was ag
ond disorderly. It is not thought
1 1 iler amounts to much, but it was
. j ip t 0 create a sensation in the vi
wl" re it occurred.
'‘ "'"a Machines Arc All Right.
1 ' ‘ "" -Morning News: Under the head
and Soldiers in Business” in to-day’s
1 g News, was an inference, detri
-10 p x-Confederate soldiers engag
-1 11 elling sewing machines.
writer served the state of Georgia
j 1 ' ' p °uth, full four years, and while
, " not remember having ever receiv
'; ni , !he state anything except one
Joe Brown's "canvass back” bro
i ls contented, and will not npply
~, ’’ > ,rf '<' license. However, there is
1 on. as mny be Inferred, why the
" r selling sewing machines is not
L i ' -nmiate as the selling of wagons,
t • stoves, dry goods, or clothing;
i I'tng "space” In the columns of a
, i" r. There is no line of business,
, m run on purely philanthropic or
l oc principles, that does more for
i ,' , of mankind. To this all in-
L- I'cople of Just conceptions will
Respectfully, A. J. Pursley.
AT THE THEATER.
The Wllhnr Opera Company win
Close Its Encasement To-night.
The W ilbur-Kirwin Opera Company will
close Its engagement to-night with a triple
bill, on< act from Two Vagabonds," one
fet from "Mascot,” and one from "Said
HSh .u u At .. the ma'inee "Queen s Lace
Handkerchief will be sung.
The sale of seats for Roland Reed’s en
gagement in “A Man of Ideas" opened well
and the Indications are that the comedian
wid play one of the best engagements he
has ever had in Savannah. Mr. Reed’s
comedy is by Sidney Rosenfeld. play
wrights have not always been happy in
Uie selection of a .title for their work, but
Rosenfeld could not have penned a phrase
better suited to describe the absurdly fun.
ny situations constructed to display the
versatility and genius of Mr. Reed than
A Man of Ideas."
The attraction next Wednesday night
Will be Primrose & West’s minstrels, new
in every detail, both as to songs, jokes,
etc., and in general make up. Of the new
people engaged for this season, are Ernest
Tenney, Waterbury Bros., and Tenney
Quaker City quarette, and Manuel Ro
mane, the sweet voiced tenor. George Wil
son is still a feature of the programme
with his monologue specialty.
' LOCAL PERSONAL.
Among the guests registered at the Pu
laski yesterday was Mr. C. B. McNeill of
Marlow.
Stopping at the Planters’ hotel yesterday
was Mr. J. H. Barrett, who came up frem
Lumber City.
Mr. and Mrs. J. T. Wade of Hershan
were among the guests registered at the
Pulaski yesterday.
Among the visitors who spent yesterday
in the city was Mr. W. E. Huggihs, who
came over from Alison.
Mr. L. F. Johnston of Enfield was
among the arrivals registered at the
Planters’ hotel yesterday.
Air. and Mrs. David Wells and Miss
Wells have returned home, and will remain
here until spring. They spent their five
months vacation in Philadelphia and At
lantic City.
CITY BREVITIES.
The steamship City of Birmingham will
not sail to-day.
Tony Rice, colored, was run over by a
street wagon yesteiday and seriously in
jured. He was taken to the Georgia In
firmary.
William Wright, colored, an employe of
the fertilizer factories west of the city,
was sent to the Georgia Infirmary yes
terday with a mashed hand.
Company “C.” of the Savannah Volun
teer Guards will assemble at the armory
to-night at 9 o'clock. The members will
then march to the home of Lieut. Walter
T. Ott on Gwinnett street to serenade him
in honor of his recent election to the sec
ond lieutenancy of the company.
FIGHT BETWEEN SNAKES.
The King Landed on the Rattler’s
Solar Plexus.
From the Philadelphia Times.
The distant murmur of the waterfall,
the hum of the bees among the flowers,
made me feel lazy, and, laying aside my
fishing rod, I stretched myself on the soft
spring grass under a weeping willow, and
watched the blue, cloud-specked sky. I
had almost fallen asleep when I was
aroused by a voice inquiring, “Kotched
enny fish, mister?" Looking up I saw a
typical mountaineer, and assured him I
had not. "I say, mister, this here is a
powerful bad kentry for snakes. One bit
Jim Sloan's bay mare last night, an’ week
afore last another bit Sally Milligan. Some
of 'em air powerful pizen, 'specially the
rattlers and coppers, and that minds me,
ef I wuz yoursel’ I'd move a little further
from that ’ere copper. He ain't 'zactly
perty to look at, an’ ef ye was ter rile ’im
with your boot he mout get wicious.”
Long before that speech had ended I had
turned a somersault backward, which
caused the mountaineer a great deal of
genuine pleasure to behold. I was about
to exterminate the big, sluggish reptile
with a stick that I had seized, when my
companion asked me to wait a few mo
ments, as a king might come along. Not
exactly understanding whether he expect
ed a person of that name, and failing to
see what that event had to do with my
laudable desire to smash the big, ugly
tiling that iiad presumed to take my leg
tor a pillow, I asked him for an explana
tion. “Air it possible yer town folks dunno
what a king air? Why, a king air the
boss snake UV the woods. He don’t do
no harm to nothin’, ’ceptin’ snakes, an he
cloan’ pester them as hain’t pizen. But
he do love a copper an’ a rattler, which
is the wurst snakes of these digging's, an’
he’s death on ’em.
"T'other day I was gwine 'long a old
road, an’ all of a sudden I heerd a sing
in', as tho' a camp meeting had just tuck
in. I knowed it were a rattler, and,
lookin’ round, I saw him on a knoll, an
a powerful big un he wuz. He was qulled
up like a corkscrew, and his rattles wuz
a makin’ the air jingle. But at first I
couldn’t ’scover the cause, and I knowed
a rattler never got ready fur business lur
nothing. Presently 1 seed the grass
a-swayin ’and a-bendin', and then the rat
tler he gets narvous and skeered, an’, un--
quiling hitself, he made a break to run.
Bui it wuz too late, for on came the king
like a hurricane, and, putting hisself just
ahead the rattler, showed him his jig was
up. Seeing he couldn't ’scape, the rat
tler quiled agin and showed fight. The
king he commenced to run around his
inimy in a wide circle, the rattler watch
ing lickin' out his tongue and makin’ his
rattles sing like a banjer. Closer and
closer the king drawed his circle, as he
dashed around, until he worn’t more n
three feet from the inimy. Then the rat
tler. thinkin’ he saw the last show to save
his bacon, made a powerful spiteful lunge
at the king, an' thar is whar he slipped
up, for 'he king he dodged, and quicker'n
gunpowder wuz onto the rattler. Thar
woren't nothing but a ball of snakes in
sight for a few minutes as they fought
and lussled over the grass, but after a lit
tle I could see the red and black striped
king wound around the big rattler just
like a grapevine on a tree. Then I seed
the king hold 'im by the back uv the
neck, tin ’ I could hear him crushing the
rattler as he tightened on him. It wor all
over in half a hour, an' the king, un
winding hisself from his victim, got be
hind him and waited for ten minutes.
Then ho crept up and put his nose on
Ihe rattler's, to see if he wuz breathin’.
You see, other snakes know the king. an*
sometimes ’possum on him by pretendin'
to be dead. But the rattler was shore
• nuff gone,, and when Ihe king wor satis
fied uv this he erawhd in a old stump
ho'e and presently eame out with a
mouse’s tail sticking out of his mouf. But
ho soon swallowed Ihe mouse, an’ wipin’
his no c e on the grass, went off sarohing
for more truhble. A king oilers eats a
rat or a toad after a fight, to make him
strong for the next un,"
—Dr. Marie Louise Benoit of Lowell,
Mass., has been appointed medical in
terne in the New Y'ork Slate Craig colony
for epileptics, at Sonyea, Livingstone
county. She is the first woman appoint
'd os a medical interne in the state hos
pital service of New York.
THE MORNING NEWS: SATURDAY, JANUARY 22, 1898.
STRANGE INCIDENT OF TRAVEL.
Train Lost anil I might Again—Situa
tion Was Very Ticklish.
From the Baltimore American.
"1 did not look for anything exciting or
novel on the trip homeward, having only
to retrace the same ground, but I will
prove it otherwise. After bidding farewell
to my new-made friends, I placed myself
in the keeping of a gentleman with whom
I have traveled many a mile—James Wi
ley, who was always my advance man,
having to erect the chimes and have all
ready for my arrival. He was always very
kind to me, procuring my tickets, handling
my bagggge and any other acts of kind
ness. On March 19 we started for Balti
more, my friend making complete arrange
ments for the journey. We had a tiresome
ride to Cincinnati, which we reached on
the following morning in time to get the
next train for Pittsburg. My friends, de
sirous of a good night's rest, procured
tickets for a sleeper. I am not fond of
being closed up in a close car, but on this
occasion 1 submitted to the arrangement
of my friend. We were allotted our re
spective berths, I No. 7 and my friend
No. 9. I will never forget the numbers,
and I have been rather shy of odd num
bers ever since. We turned in early, my
friend going to sleep as soon as his head
touched the pillow. I rolled and pitched
with every lurch of the train. It must
have been an express train, for I remem
ber that we made but few stops; but cue
of them I will remember as long as I live.
It was rather longer, I thought, than nec
essary, and I finally put my head outside
of the curtains to ask the porter where
we were. He answered politely, ‘Colum
bus. sir.’ ’What time is it? - I next Inquir
ed. ‘Twelve o’clock, sir,’, was the answer.
1 then decided that I would go out to the
next car and have a good smoke. The
car was very close and warm, so I simply
put on my linen duster, smoking jacket
and slippers. I got into the next chr with
out being perceived by the porter, lit my
pipe and had a good smoke. Of course,
there was the usual noise of bumping and
banging that always accompanies the ar
rangement of cars about a railway sta
tion, which gave me no concern. Suddenly
1 felt a heavy bump, then a smart pull
and off we went at a brisk rate, as I im
agined, to make up for lost time.
“ ‘Tickets, gentlbmen,’ said the conduc
tor, as he advanced toward me. He looked
at me in a strange sort of way when I
told him that my traveling companion in
No. 9 of the sleeping car would give him
my ticket. He asked, in a drawling man
ner: ‘Were you a passenger in the sleep
ing car from Cincinnati?’ I responded that
I was, when he blurted out to my conster
nation: ‘Sir, you have been left. Your
sleeper pulled out ten minutes ahead of
this train.’
“Can you imagine my sensations? An
unutterable woe was written on every line
of my face, and I half-believe that my
heart stopped beating.
"The conductor, seeing my dilemma, said
to me very kindly: ‘Old gentleman, I will
talk with you after I collect my fares,’
and thus I was left to my own reflections.
Imagine my fix; sitting in a train, ten
minutes behind one I had paid my fare on;
my warmer clothing becoming more and
more necessary every moment as we sped
northward; with the prospect of finally
making my way through the city to my
home clad in slippers and a linen duster,
hours after my ownerless grip, overcoat
and possessions generally, had reached
their destination. Not only this, but I im.
agined my companion getting up in the
morning as he would at Pittsburg, lo peep
into No. 7, and not finding me thee. Then
ho would imagine that I had gone to the
wash-room, and I thought of his conster
nation as he found that I was not there,
either.
t’To his inquiries the porter would know
nothing, beyond that he had spoken to me
at midnight as we reached Columbus.
Then I imagined that he would suspect
thjjt I had fallen from the platform in
the night; or, my heart stood still at the
thought, would he suspect me of com
mitting suicide? My reveries were get
ting anything but pleasant, and I was re
lieved when the door opened and the con
ductor entered. He sat down beside me,
saying, ‘Weil, old gentleman, let’s talk
business.’ I told him of my coming to the
smoker to enjoy a pipe load of tobacco,
and of the predicament I was in. ‘Well,’
said he, ‘you are in an ugly fix, and I will
do everything in my power to straighten
things out.’
“Your train started ten minutes ahead
of us, ns I told you, and that means as
many miles. Now, I will get the engineer
to try to gain a little on her at every sta
tion, and we may catch the runaway yet.’
"Then began the most exciting series
of episodes that ever happened to me in
my long and adventurous life, and, though
ludicrous enough now, on that night the
most miserable man in the world was
James Mellon, the chimer of St. Vincent's.
Some time elapsed before the conductor
returned. When he did, It was with a
hurried call of ‘This way, old man.’ I
jumped like a youth, and made my way to
the platform. ‘There she is,' yelled the
conductor, who, by this time, was as ox
cited as myself.’ We came to a stop 100
yards behind the train, and I jumped from
the engine and started at a dead run for
my train, which stood 500 yards up the
track, while my friend, the conductor,
frantically waved his light in an effort to
hold the train until I could got aboard.
Tho signals miscarried, alas, and I arriv
ed breathless and footsore on the siwt
where the train had been, only to see its
rear lights disappearing around a bend
in the road. Slowly I returnid, stumbling
in the dark over sleepers and jagged rocks,
until my poor feet, with only thin-soled
elinpers to protect thorn, were painfully
cut and scratched. We reached our train
as Ihe engineer finished taking water, and
started again on our long chase.
"A half hour later I was again sum
moned to the front platform; again the
train stopped, and again I plunged into
the darkness to overtake my truant train.
Again I returned footsore and weary, for
the train had pulled majestically away
within 500 feet of me.
"As we again returned to our train the
conductor discussed for a minute the
chances of our overtaking that runaway
sleeper. ‘Tom,’ said he to the engineer,
Vlo you think you can catch up to her at
the next station?’ ‘l'm almost sure of it,’
he replied to my infinite satisfaction. ‘She
has a hot box, so I'm sure to catch her.’
My hart leaped at that word, 'hot box,'
for It meant a delay for the train ahead.
“The race then became Intensely absorb
ing. and my heart throbbed with every
half stroke of the engine. I could have
taken hold of that lever and risked my life
in throwing the throttle wide open. Any
thing to catch tha> train. Suddenly I was
called to the platform by the conductor
crying: 'Now's your chance, old man;
we ll catch her sure.’ He raised his lan
tern, gave some sort of signal, when—Joy!
joy;_lt was returned from the platform of
my train ahead. ‘He secs us. you’re all
right,' said he to me, emphasizing his ut
terance with a slap on the back that fair
ly took my breath: On the station plat
form was the captain of my train, and I
was introduced to him as a passenger
whom he had left at Columbus.
"Step up lively, sir,” said the captain,
and I did—os lively as my shaking limbs
and throbbing heart would permit. I now
stood on the rear platform of my own
sleeping car. I turned toward my friends
—the conductor and engineer of my train,
No. 2—with tho most heartfelt prayer 1
ever uttered. 'May God bless you.’ Neither
of them heeded me, for my train was mov
ing off again, and I hope that the Dispens
er of all blessings has granted my prayer.
'Step tills' way,' said the captain, leading
me to the end of the sleeper. ‘Do you know
this man?’ he asked of the porter. ’Oh,
vez,’ responded that worthy; 'he is the
gentleman in No. 7.’ And then I crawled
into my heiih. the sorest and saddest in
dividual that ever existed.
“I took one peep at my traveling com
panion, in berth No. 9. before finally re
tiring. There he was. sleeping the sleep
of the just. Little he knew how 1 had
s|>ent my night and part of the morning,
and I tell you that I was glad to be there
looking at him, and, happier still, to know
that he would not have to lie the bearer
of bad news to my friends and relatives in
Baltimore. I rested for two hours, and it
took nil of that time to qutet the wild
beatings of my heart after the thrilling
experience.
"As we neared Pittsburg, I left my berth
for the wash room to put my toilet in or
der when my friend made his appearance,
with a ’Well, how did you spend your
night?’
" ’Oh, tip-top,’ I responded, determined
to keep him ignorant of my adventure
until later on. Then came the , captain,
calling for tickets, and as he reached me
he extended his hand with Ihe remark:
‘How do you feel by this time? You had a
hard time of it last night.’ Of course,
my friend’s curiosity was aroused, and I
told him the story, exacting a promise
that he keep it profoundly secret. 1 must
say that he kept his promise for fully two
years. One day, while entertaining a few
friends, I related the story of a man who
lost his train by being too fond of his pipe,
and my wife remarked: 'Poor man' You
ought to sympathize with him, for it is
very like what you could be guilty of your
self.' ” This was the story he told as Ihe
chimes from St. Vincent's steeple were
greeting the Christ mast ide.
FEATHERED DANCERS.
Sinunlnr Actions Among Illrils—The
VngnrleM of Ihe Shadow Bird.
From the New York Evening Post.
The sun was rising a ball of fire out of
the Mexican Gulf when a party of turtle
hunters, who had been lying ott the white
sands all night, were roused by one of
their number, who mysteriously beckonid
to them to follow, and disappeared in the
bush. The sleepy men slowly rose, shook
the sand and hermit crabs from their
clothes and the mangrove leaves from
their hair, and pushed their way into the
narrow opening.
They wound in and out for some mo
ments, then dropped upon their knbes
and slowly crawdel to the edge of the
mangrove bush that crowned the island
and glanced through. Before them
stretched away a shallow lagoon or mud
flat, on the edge of which stood a group
of large cranes. Asa rule the birds are
very dignified, standing for hours in one
spot like statues, but the actions of these
birds proved that they were exceptions,
as, to the amazement of the watchers,
they were leaping into the air and going
through a series of performances which
convinced the beholders that there were
such things as feathered dancers. Near
ly all the birds were participating in the
dance, only a few standing by them
selves, and the movements of the danc
ers suggested a series of complicated evo.
lutions. They walked about In a stately
manner, now in circles, now in irregular
squares, then suddenly leaped into the
air, in an aerial game of leap-frog, then
with heads held proudly aloft ran In a
straight line, again lowering them to dart
from side to side, fluttering their wings
all the while. Now one bird walked out
alone, followed by a row of several, all
carrying out a series of manoeuvres,
which might well have been compared
to the movements of a. body of troops,
and they did not cease these evolutions
for some time.
Some years ago a relative of the writer
chanced to have upon his large ranch or
farm in the Middle West, a family of
sandhill cranes, which constituted a never
failing attraction to th© people from far
and near, who came and concealed them
selves in the corn-pllee and watched the
dancing cranes, whose actions were even
more remarkable than those previously de
scribed.
These dances are not confined to the
cranes and herons, but are Indulged in by
a large number of birds of widely different
families. One of the most interesting is
the shadow bird of Africa, which builds a
singular mound-like nest, with three dis
tinct departments—one, in which the bird
sits with its bill protruding from the door;
another, which is the storehouse, piled
with food, and a third, in which the nest
is made and the eggs deposited. It is said
that the name shadow is given to the bird
from its peculiar habit of creep
ing through the grass, every
once in a while stopping and stand
ing perfectly motionless, and casting on
unusual shadow. At certain times the
bird, which has a singular crest, Indulges
in a series of dances which amaze even the
natives, who profess to believe that these
actions are riles which the bird is per
forming to Its god. The bird will hop
lightly upon its mound, bow to the right
and left, lift its wings slightly, raise it
self upon its “tiptoes,” hop into the air,
then fly to the ground and run about as
though following some other bird, and
finally stop as suddenly, and creep into its
three-roomed house, where its long beak
will soon be seen protruding from the door.
This Is repeated with many variations
by other biros, as the nests are In com
munities, and the impression produced
upon the concealed observer is that the
birds are amusing themselves with the
dance after the manner of human beings.
The strange bird known as Ihe cock cl
the rock, from whose feathers the robes
of the Emperors of Brazil were once made,
is one of the most famous dancers, Its evo
lutions and performances defying ade
quate description and being almost beyond
belief. An observer who followed a flock
for days and weeks through the moun
tains of Brazil to prove whether the storv
was a myth or not finally eame upon them
In a rocky gorge. He was creeping from
rock to rock, crouching low, and hiding
behind rocks and bushes, when he heard
a strange noise. Glancing around the
moss-covered rock behind which he was
stooping, he saw a strange sight. In a
little declivity among the rocks stood fif
teen or twenty birds. The sun, which
came in a huge beam down through th
trees, illumined their red-yellow feathers,
giving them a fiery appearance, so thar
l hey looked like so many blazing mani
kins standing in a circle. They were fac
ing a single bird which stood in the cen.
ter, the observed of all observers. This
individual now appeared lo bow—at least,
it bobbed its head up and down in a very
vigorour manner—and then began a slow,
ludicrous imitation of a dance; lifting Its
Ret high In ..it, shaking its head, spread
ing its wings; now walking sedately, and
again rushing around tho flerey cirele a a
though mad. It kept up these changes un
til It sank aimost exhausted Into the ring,
and another bird rushed out to take its
place in the center anil continue the dance,
which war not ended until nearly every
bird had gratified Its desire to dance.
The great bustard has been'seen to go
through a singular performance, not only
upon the ground, but at great heights, one
feature of its extraordinary evolutions, ob
served by a hunter, being a remarkable
plunge from high In the air. The bird
slowly ascended by a spiral flight, and
when almost out of sight, turned and lit
erally precipitated Itself to the earth.
Down it enme like a rocket, the powerful
wings held* near the sides, as though to
remove ail friction. That It was about to
dash itself on the earth was evident, but
wnen it had fallen to within ten feet of
the ground the great bird spread its
wings and stopped as suddenly as though
It had been seized by some invisible enemy.
For a single moment, the bird seemed to
hover just above its wondering mate;
then, as though rebounding. It shot twi nty
or thirty feet into the air. and finally set
tled upon the ground, where it strutted
about like a turkey cock.
Among many of the game birds, such
as the grouse and quail, similar dances
have been observed by those who have
followed them and watched them unob
served; and In many cases the dances ap
pear to correspond to the games and
sports Indulged in by bunion livings. On
the islands off the coast of Southern Cal
ifornia large bands of ravens linve for
centuries made their home, and at cer
tain times they have been observed lo
go through performances in many ways
remarkable. A friend of the writer, no
ticing that a large flock frequented a
certain canon, followed them, and from
his place of concealment in the brush saw
the black birds marching up and down
the deep gulch and repeatedly turning
somersaults, after Ihe manner of tumble
pigeons. There was this difference, that
the pigeons cannot help it, while the
ravens were enjoying it as a sport ami a
pastlma.
Ferhnps the most aesthetic dancer among
the birds is Ihe famous gardener bird of
Borneo, which has been seen lo perform a
slow and dignified minuet on the lawn
which it makes in front of its house.
When the story of the gardener bird
was first reported, it was considered as
a canard or the Joke of same native story
teller; but investigation proved that it was
true, and several observers have testified
to the correctness of the story as original
ly related by the Italian naturalist who
was its discoverer.
The bird builds its nest in trees, but not
far away It ererts a perfect house, that is
so like a human habitation in miniature
that those who have obsarvod them were
at first convinced that they were the work
of native children. In the construction
of the house the bird selects a tree, and
about it places the stalks of a peculiar
fern, arranging them in regular layers,
and leaving a,small door upon one side.
The ferns take root in the soil, tho lateral
leaves and branches join one with the
other, and a perfect water-proof roofing
is tho result.
In front of the door ttye bird clears away
Ihe leaves and refuse for several square
feet, and in some way encourages the
growth of a fine grass, which in time pro
duces a lawn, which, with the rich green
of the fern leaves, forms a conspicuous
object in the forest. On this green sward
Ihe bird has been seen to move about in
what has been termed the measures of a
dance, and every day it brings fresh flow
ers, highly colored buds, shells and altrac
tive objects of all kinds, which it dlstrib
utes about, always removing them ns they
fade to the rear of the building, where a
pile has always been found by those who
have seen one of the houses. Tho house
has no connection with the nest, and is a
pleasure resort, pure and simple, where
the bird indulges in the aesthetic enjoy
ments of a contemplation of the beauti
ful. Such Instances, and there are many,
suggest that all animal life Is actuated by
similar motives, the differences being
mainly in degree.
HOW A LYNCHING WAS AVERTED,
n>- Judge Field In California's Wild
Early Days.
From the New York Evangelist.
Judge Field, who lately retired from the
bench of the Supreme Court of Ihe United
'States, was for many years chief justice of
California. He was one of tiie early set
tlers of the state, when there was no or
ganized government and no courts, so that
men suspected of crime were tried by
lynch law. In those cases the Jury were not
very careful about the evidence. If there
was a suspicion of any man, It was likely
to go hard with him. When they were be
ginning to organize a government, Mr.
Field was a candidate for cilice, and hod
to ride on horseback through the woods
and over the mountains to make speeches
to the miners. In relating his experiences,
he said;
“I witnessed some strange scenes during
the campaign, which illustrated the condi
tion of society in the country. As I ap
proached Grass Valley, then a beautiful
spot among the hills, occupied principally
by 'Mr. Walsh, a name since become fa
miliar to Californians, I came to a build
ing by the wayside, a small lodging house
and drinking saloon, opposite to which a
lynch Jury was sitting, trying a man upon
the charge of stealing gold dust. J slop
ped and watched for awhile the progress
of the trial. As there was some little de
lay in the proceedings. I mention'll lo
those present, the jury included, that I
was a candidate for the legislature, and
that I should be glad if they would join
me In a glass in the saloon, an Invitation
which was seldom declined In those days.
It was ut once accepted and leaving the
accused in the hands of an improvised
constable, the jury entered the house and
partook of the drinks which its bar af
forded. I had discovered, or Imagined
from the appearance of the prisoner, that
he had been familiar in other days with a
very different life from that of California,
and my sympathies were moved toward
him.
So, after the Jurors bad taken their
drinks and were talking together, I slipped
out of the building and approaching ihe
man, said to him, ‘What Is Ihe case
against you? Can I help you?’ The poor
fellow looked up lo me and his eyes filled
with great globules of tears as he replied:
‘I am innocent of all I am charged with;
I have never stolen anything nor cheated
any one; but I have no one here to be
friend me.’ ’ That was enough for me.
Those eyes, filled as they were, touched
my heart. I hurried back to the saloon;
and as the Jurors were standing about
chatting with each other I exclaimed,
’How is this? You have not had your ci
gars! Mr. Barkeeper, give the gentlemen
the best you have, and let us have another
‘smile’—lt is not often you have a candi
date for the legislature among you.’ A
laugh followed, and a ready acceptance
wns given lo the Invitation.
In the mean time, my eyes rested upon
a benevolent looklrfif man or* the Jury, and
1 managed to draw him aside and inquired
what state he came from. He replied
from Connecticut, I then asked if his
parents lived there. He answered, with a
faltering voice: "My father is dead; my
mother and sister are there.” I thru said:
"Your thoughts, I dure say, go out con
stantly to them; and you oft<-n write to
them, of course.” His eyes glistened as
his thoughts were carried over the moun
tains to his old horn?. "All. m.v good
friend,” I added, "how their hearts must
ri-Jolee to hear from you.” Then if;er
a short pause I asked: "What is the case
against your prisoner? He, too, perhaps,
may have a mother and sister In the east,
thinking of him as your mother and sis
ter do of you, and wondering when he
will come back. For God’s sake, remember
this!” The heart of the good man re
sponded in a voieo which, even to (his
day—now more than forty years past
sounds like a delicious melody in my ears:
“I will!"
Passing from him I went to the other
Jurors, and, finding they were about to go
tack to the trial, I exclaimed: "Don't ta
in a hurry, gentlemen, take another
glass!” They again acceded to my re
quest, and seeing that they were a little
mellowed by their indulgence, I ventured
to speak about the trial. I told them that
the courts of the state were organiz'd,
and there was no necessity op Justifica
tion now for lynch Juries; that the pris
oner appeared to be without friends, and
I appealed to them, as men of large hearts,
to think how they would feel if they were
accused of crime here they had no coun
sel and no friends. "Better send him,
gentlemen, to Marysville for trial and
keep your own hands fre. from slain." A
pause ensued; then h.ans u.re softened;
and. fortunately , man going to Marys
ville with a ag.ai Riming up at this mo
merit, 1 prevdik I ujK>n him to put the
prisoner in his charge to be taken there.
The owtier of the wu;:ihi A,*otisetuinf? they
swore hint to tak, the prisoner to that
place and deliver him ovi r n> the sheriff:
und to make sure that hi would keep the
oath. 1 handed him "slug." a local coin
of octagonal form of the value of *SO Is
sued lit that time by a-say. rs in San
I rancisco. U e soon u( . rwards separated.
As I rode away on m> horse my head was
swimming, but my hearts was joyous. Of
all things which 1 can recall of the past,
this is one of the most pleasant. I believe
1 saved tile prisoner'.' life, for in those
days there was seldom tmv escape for a
person tried by a lynch jury.
1. At.NI Al’l’E,
The New Orleans Custom That In
Falling' Someulmi Into Dlaune.
Front the Waterbury (Conn.) American.
In reading the stories of Netv Orleans
life that have been publishrd from time
to time during the last few w.ais by Ruth
McKnery Stuart and other writers famil
iar with the conditions of life in that
Southern city, the reader Is struck by the
use of the term "lagnlappe." It is applied
lo a bonus given to purchasers at the
markets or shops; a sort of premium, as
it were: it may be confectionery, fruit,
or some trifling article, hut It is expected
and given as a matter of course.
Although "lagnlappe" as n custom is pe
culiar lo tile section of the country which
has been mentioned, it is bv no means un
known elsewhere. Many grocers will tell
of customers who always expect candy,
fruit or something of the sort on pay
ment of their weekly or monthly bill. And
stamps but “iugniappe" from the mer
chant to tlio customer in order lo draw
"chances" on tills or that article given
by advertisers or merchants to draw at
tention to certain wares. Everybody likes
to receive a little more than lias actually
been purchased and paid for by him; It
gives ii sense of having made a particu
larly good bargain, and shrewd dealers
are not slow to take advantage of this
characteristic of humun nature.
"Lagntappe” may lie given, too, in less
material ways. It costs nothing to say an
extra words or two of appreciation of fav
ors done or In praise of some attribute of
the person doing the favor, and often
wins the everlasting gratitude of Ihe re
cipient, even if he has a feeling that It
may not is' altogether deserved, or that it
catches more, flies than vinegar,” Is an
old saying of which time and experience
have proved the truth.
On the merchant's side, "lagniappe” is
like any other form of advertising. It is
often a heavy drain upon Ids resources,
whether It bo given in small quantities to
festivals, charities, etc. The returns are
uncertain. Some successful rival may be
able to offer more "lagnlappe” and thus
drnw away those who have benefited by
the generosity of merchant No. 1. The
public Is proverbially ungrateful and prone
to go where it can get the largest Imme
diate return for money expended, unmind
ful of jiast favors, lint people must ad
vertise and take the risks, say Ihe mer
chants, and though ihis sort of advertising
may not pay it ls kept up from year to
year in one form or another. The mer
chant's wares may he of a more or less
material sort; they may range from the
commonest article of food or clothing to
riches, honor or political preferment. But
those who buy them expect anil usually
manage to get their “lagnlappe.’’
THE BLACK PRINCE’S PRISONER.
How John the Good of France Fared
in Englund While Waiting; Hl*
R a iisom.
London Letter In New Y'ork Sun.
John the Good was one of the worst
kings (hat France ever had. lie was King
of France from 1350 to 1364, during which
time his country suffered terribly from
war nnd from his exactions,
hut he got his title of Good
because he kept Ills faith with his
enemy, Edward the Black Prince. The
Black Prince, with 8,000 men, polished off
King John’s army of 00,000 at Poitiers,
Sept. 19, 1356, as easily as a good bowler
isdishes off the ten pins at the other end
of the alley. Then John went to England
as a prisoner.
The plain Is olde had no quarter In war
in those (jays, but a nobleman who could
be held for ransom hud a good time of It
as a prisoner. So wtlli King John. Me
reached England on May 4, 1357, and was
lodged in the Savoy palace for two years.
He made little trips around London, see
ing his relatives and friends, anil had a
nice time. In August, 1359, certain re
strictions, which had begun near Ihe end
of 1358, culminated in his being removed
from Ihe Savoy palace to Komerton cas
tle. in Lincolnshire. He bad lo give up
and send home for forty-two of his retain
ers hut he still kept about as many, those
whom he dismissed being outdoor serv
ants Undoubtedly lie felt himself a much
abused man when he sent the unfortunate
forty-two away. ... . . ,
Be that as it may be, while he lodged at
Somerlon he had those retainers; two
chaplains, a secretary, a clerk of the
chapel, a phvsicion, a maitre d’hotel, three
pages, four valets, three wardrobe men,
three furriers, six grooms, two cooks, a
fruiterer, a sptceman, a barber und a
washer, besides some higher officers, and
a "roy de menestereiilx" (who was a men
der of musical instruments and clocks, as
well as a minstrel), and a fool, who was
railed Master John. King John brought
with him tallies, chairs, stable fit tings,
firewood anil peat, and fitted up his room,
his son’s room, the chapel and Masli r
John's room with all desirable comfort.
He lived too. In a style befitting ills
rank and his train. He imiiorted claret,
as much as 140 tons, at a time, part of it
he drank; and part he sold for money
to keep up his state; |rhaps he was the
original nobleman in trade. He bought
sugar in Ixmdon, Lincoln, and Boston,
and spices In large quantities. Sugar was
an expensive luxury in those days, and
Ills majesty's candy cost 13 the pound,
about 0C shillings, or $lO in our money.
He liked to dress well, and caused to
be set up in Lineolntown a regular tail
oring establishment, over which a Mr.
Tassin presided. Within five months the
King bought eight new suits, and the
Countess de Boulogne sent him a ninth
suit Ills Easier suit, in 1360, was made
In Brussels, of marbled violet velvet, lined
with miniver; for Whitsuntide he had a
suit of rosy eearlet velvet, lined with hide
taffeta. The Easter suit took 2.550 skins
to line it suitably; they cost £26. equal
nowadavs to about £B2O, or say $2,600. The
King amused himself by reading novels,
listening o music, and playing chess and
backgammon. His son, Prince Philip,
who was a prisoner with him, kept ilogs
and lighting cocks, and |* rhßps King John
put his novels down occasionally, long
enough to go out with his son to see a
gentle main, or a little course by the
dogs He was a constant alms-giver,
too. and never traveled without tipping
the parish priest or the monks.
After being In England three years,
from May 4, 1357. to May 19, 1360, King
John paid 6009,00 crowns out of his agreed
ranson of 3,ooo,ooo—abou t s7,soo,ooo—and
leaving his son. the Duke of Anjou, as
hostage, he went back to France. But In
IX'cemher, 1363, the Duke broke his parole
and returned to France, whereupon John
again surrendered himself to Edward the
Black Prince. Probably hla return rather
grieved the Prince, as It made clear to
him that the rest of the ransom would not
lie forthcoming. King John went back to
the Savoy, and died there in about four
.months. So the Prince didn't get his ran
som.
Ocean Steamship Cos
FOR
IMew York, Boston
-" 11 AND--- •
THE EAST.
Unsurpassed cabin accommodations.
All the comforts of a modern hotaL
Electric lights. Unexcelled table. Tickets
Include meals and berth aboard ship.
Passenger Fares From Savannah
TO NEW YORK—Cabin, S2O; Excursion,
$32; Intermediate, sls; Excursion, $24;
Steerage, $lO.
TO BOSTON—Cabin, $22; Excursion, $34;
Intermediate, sl7; Excursion, S2B; Steer*
oge, $11.73.
TO PHILADELPHIA (via New Ycrk)-
Cabln. $22; Excursion, $35; Intermediate,
sl7; Excursion, $27; Steerage. sl2.
The express steamships of this line are
appointed to sail from Savannah, Central
<9oth) meridian time, as follows:
SAVANNAH TO NEW YORK.
GATE CITY', Oapt. Googins, MONDAY
Jan. 24, at 7:(to p. m.
TALLAHASSEE, Capt. Asklns, TUES
DAY, Jan. 25. at 7:30 p. m.
KANSAS CITY, Capt. Fisher, WEDNES
DAY', Jan. 26, at 8:00 p. m.
NACOOCHEE, Capt. Smith, FRIDAY
Jan. 28, ut 10:00 p. m.
CITY' OF AUGUSTA, Capt. Daggett, SAT
URDAY. Jan. 29, at 10:30 p. m.
CITY OF BIRMINGHAM, Capt Burg.
MONDAY, Jan. 31, at 3:00 p. m.
SAVANNAH TO ROSIDN DIRECT.
CITY OF MACON, Capt. Savage, WED
NESDAY, Jan. 26, at 10:00 a. rn.
Steamers leave New York for Savannah
6 p. m. dally except Sundays, and Boston
for Savannah Wi dne-sdayu at 12 noon.
W. G. Brewer, Ticket Agent, 39 Bull at
Savannah, Ga.
E. W. Smith. Con’t Frt. Agt.. Bav. Ga.
R. G. Trezevant, Agt., Savannah, Oa.
E. H. Hinton. Traffic Manager
Jno. M. Egan. Vice President.
MERCHANTS ANO MINERS 7
TRANSPORTATION CO.
HATES OF PASSAGE.
TO NEW YORK—'Steamer and rail-
Cabin, limited 4 days. $18.30. Cabin un
limited, $20.30. Excursion, limited 4
months, SJ2. Second class, limited 4 davs
$14.76. ’
TO BOSTON—Steamer—Cabin, limited •
days, $22. Excursion, limited 6 months, $34.
Second class, limited 8 days, sl7.
TO WASHINGTON—Steamer and rail—
Cabin, unlimited, $16.20. Second class
limited 5 days, $11.20.
TO PHILADELPHIA—Steamer and rail
—Cabin, unlimited. $17.80. Excursion, lim
ited 6 montns, $29.00. Second class, limi
ted 4 days, $12.50.
TO PHILADELPHIA- Btearo©r-Cabln.
unlimited, sl7. Second class, limited 4
days. $11.60.
TO HALTTMORE—Cabin, limit 3 days
sls. Excursion, limited 6 months, $25. Ini
termediate, limit 3 days, $12.50. Interme
diate, excursion, limited 6 months. $22.
Steerage, limit 3 days. $lO.
The steamships of this company are ap.
pointed to sail from Savannah to Balti
more ns follows (Standard time):
D. H. MILLER, Capt. Klrwan, SATUR
DAY, Jan. 22, at 6 p. m.
Steamship ITASCA, WEDNESDAY, Jan
26, at 9 p. m.
ESSEX, Capt. Billups, SATURDAY, Jar.
29, at 13A) p. m.
And from Baltimore every TUESD YY
and FRIDAY.
J. J. CAROLAN, Agent,
Savannah, Ga
W. F. TURNER, G. P. A.
A. D. STEBBINS, A. T. M.
7. C. WHITNEY, Traffic Manager.
General Offices, Baltimore, Md.
AMERICAN LINE.
NEW YORK-SOUTHAMPTON (Lon
don—Paris).
Sailing ©very Wednesday at 10 a. m
ST. LOUIS ...Jan. 26 ST. PAUL....Feb’ 16
NEW YORK.Feb. 2JNEW YORK.Feb. 23
PARIS Feb. 9|PARIS Mar 2
RED STAR LINE.
NEW YORK—ANTWERP.
NOORDLAND, Wednesday, Jan. 26, noon
FRIESLAND, Wednesday, Feb. 2. noon.
KENSINGTON. Wednesday, Feb. 9, noon!
WESTERNLAND,Wednesday, Feb. 16,n’n
I nte rnat lowa I Navigation Company,
Piers 14 and 15 North River. Office 6
Bowling Green, New York. Whitehead &
Cos., A. E. Horroeks, Savannah, Ga.
For Bluff Yon and Beaufort, S. C.
Steamer Doretta will leave wharf foot
of Abereorn (Ethel’s wharf) street at 3 p.
m. for Bluffton dally except Sundays and
Thursdays. Wednesday’s trips extended
to Beaufort, leaving Bluffton Thursdays
at 8 a. m. Returning same day.
FOR BLUFFTON AND BEAUFORT
Steamer Clifton leaves from foot Bull
street Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday at
10 a. m., city time.
H. & WESTCOTT. Agent
CITY AND SUBURBAN AND sa
vannah, THUNDERBOLT AND ISLH
OF HOPE RAILWAY.
Winter Scedule—Commencing Oct. 1, 1897.
Leave f || Leave ’
| From | Isle of Into
City | [I Hope.
6 ii l ) am|Bolton St. || 600 amjßolton St.
700 am|Bolton St. || 710 amjßolton St.
900 amjSecond Ave.|| 810 amjSecond Ave.
10 37 amißolton St. 11 945 amjßolton St.
230 pm;S©cond Ave.|| 100 pm|Second Ave.
4onpm|Bolton St. || 400 pm|Bolton St.
530 pm j Second Ave. || 500 pm [Second Ave.
630 pm;Bolton St. || 630 pm|Bolton St.
730 pm Bolton St. || 730 pmi Bolton gt.
8 30 pmjSecond Ave.|| 900 pmjSecond Av
‘ Saturday niglita only 11 p.
ton street, cars leaving and arriving into
Bolton street. Passengers change at
Thunderbolt.
For Montgomery 9 and 10:37 a. m. and
2:29 and s:3ffp. m.
Leave Montgomery 7:30 a. m., 12:20 and
4:15 p. m.
For Thunderbolt cats leave Bolton street
depot on every hour and half hour during
the day and evening.
JOHN G. BUTLER,
DEALER IN
Paints, Oils, and Glass, Sash Doors,
Blinds and Builders’ Supplies, Plain utui
Decorative Wall Paper, Foreign and Do
mestic Cements, Lime, Plaster and Hair.
Sole Agents for Asbestine Cold Water
Paint.
20 Congress street, west, and 19 St. Julian
street, west.
LOVELY FLOWERS^
Beautiful designs, bouquets, plants and
cut flowers. Leave orders at office, 2236
Abereorn street, at Nursery, or telephone
240. KI Ed LING. Take Belt Line Rail
way for Nursery on White Bluff road.
7