About The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907 | View Entire Issue (June 18, 1887)
THE SUNNY SOUTH. ATLANTA, GA„ 8A' THE NEW COLUMBUS -OR — Narrative of the Sole Survivor of Sir John Franklin’s Last Arctic Expedition. [COPYRIGHT SECURED. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] CHAPTER XL | since entering upon my Arctic experiences. • I Loolik now lamented that he had not fol- si-ring of 1851—Baffin’s bat—heights of | j owec j m y advice and remained in Greenland. NORTH GREENLAND—TERRA INCOGNITA. The spring of 1851 opened and I intimated a desire to travel to the south, but Loolik was bent upon his trip northward; and, loath as I was to take that course, there was no alterna tive. It was at least fifteen hundred miles to the nearest settlements, and I had no boat even He sail with many sighs that it would be im possible for us ever to return, as we had lost our dojrs; and he became so disconsolate and inert, 1 was called upon for the exercise of all the fortitude I was master of. I tol 1 bun we had been fortunate in reaching the land with our lives and provisions. If the f I was at the open water, nor had I the means storm had ctme upon us twenty-four hours of overland travel! The sledge and dogs be- ; sooner we must have perished inevitably. Be longed to my friend Loolik. So I resolved to I sides, I sa.d, we had saved our gun, ammuni- adopt, as nearly as possible, Loolik's mode of | ti in and compass, and two of the dogs to aid life and follow him in all h.s wanderings. We | us in hunting. I warned him that the summer accordingly prosecuted our journey first to the j would so on be gone, and we must lose no time north and then to the east, and I recognized certain land marks of Lancaster Sound. When we got out into the great Bay we turned to the north, and, keeping well out from the ice-foot and bn.ken ice, made good time along the western coast, stopping to rest and hunt occasionally. At length our course was changed to the east and we sped directly across the Bay. which in th it region is very much narroa*ed. But where we anticipated li iding an eastern coast we en countered a precipice of ice. It seem d sever al hundred feet high, and extended as far as the eye could reach both to the north and the south. It was evidently the coast, but ap- peiredtobe who.ly ice. It was a sublime spec 1 acle. [ Most probably the great Humboldt Glacier.—En ] We continued to the north until we rounded the ice hills; and here on a high, rocky coast we found nioie desvrt^d bills. Loolik was again disappointed. In fact, I think the I', j 'li in au x nad not frequented those parts for years. ... , ,, But Loolik thought his friends had probably cros-ed the mainland and established them selves on the eastern coasts, and he resolved to follow tseir steps if possible. It was peril ous and weary work to ascend the heights and take the sled with us. The practicability of the p-oposed journey depended upon finding the interior covered with suitable ice. We, however, were rewarded for our indus try by finding ourselves at length, upon a beautiful u dulating plain of ice which seemed to have no limit Turning our team to the northeast, we glided at an astonishing rate of speed over ground which probably was never trodden by man before. We made fifty or sixty miles every twenty-four hours, and, after traveling some six hundred miles, reached what I took to be a northeastern coast of Greenland. I based this notion on the fact that so far as we after wards explored it, which was to a considerable extent, the line of coast tonded away to north- W 7did not doubt that we were treading parts of the earth’s service never before visited by man; but the thought made little impression upon me, for I had slight hope indeed that I could ever communisate the fact to the world. Alas! my conjectures were only too true. CHAPTER XII. t OOI.IK’s DISAPPOINTMENT—OFF FOR THE SOUTH —REPULSED—LOOLIK’S RECKLESSNESS— A TRIP IN THE ARCTIC OCEAN A STORM—DISASTER. We erected ice houses and sojourned some weeks on the coast; but game was rai her scarce, and the climate seemed much colder on the eastern than on the western side of Greenland. Looiik was depressed at finding no traces of the Esquimaux, and was soon restless and anxious to be in motion. But he was undecid ed as to his future course. Taking this to be a favorable opportunity, I suggested that we should journey to the south along the eastern coast, as by that route, if we should find it practicable, wo would ultimately come to the Esquimaux and European set.leraents that we knew to exist along the southwestern coast. To this my companion assented, and we es- -aye.d to carry out my project. I was deeply interested in this scheme, as I knew I could find a more endurable home among the DarteR until I should m* et with some vessel that would tack me back to Europe. But after a laborious experience of ten days we were compelled, by the extreme roughness of the ice and the ruggeduess of the coast, to abandon the proposed rou e. So we returned to our huts and rested again. Loolik now proposed a scheme to which I was bitterly opposed. It was an excursion in the sled in o the region north of us. He said we would find the sea ice smooth after getting some distance beyond the ice foot. I tried to <lissuade him. I argued that there was no good to be accomplished by the trip, and our lives would be needlessly endangered. I had often observed that this savage seemed happi est when flying in the sledge on smooth ice. He took a wild dflight in it, and he now had his heart set upon a ride on the open Arctic Ocean. I owed so much to his magnanimity I could not quarrel with him, and so I yielded the point. , , , , , When we got away from the ice foot and broken field that are characteristic of far nor- them coasts, the plain was generally smooth. Loolik turned the dogs a little e.ast of north, cracked his whip, and we started away like the wind. I am satisfied that on that trip we fre quently made sixty miles in one day. The coaRt diRappeared behind us, and there was no dind in sight in any direction. Throwing away uty natural fears, I resolved to display the •same indifference to danger that marked the conduct of my Esquimaux friend. At length Loolik suddenly stopped the team and declared he could see land ahead. I had thought the same, but as I had never heard of land in that quarter of the world, I doubted the correctness of my vision. Whilst we were resting and eating we ob served unmistakable indications of stormy weather. This alarmed even Loolik. He knew too well that the wind and waves often break up the field of ice for hundreds of miles, and that our chance of life would be small indeed if overtaken by the tempest in our present ex posed position. "Shall we turn back?” he asked. "It is too late,” I said. "We must make the land that we see ahead of us.” Without further parley we pressed on, and in due time found ourselves off a high and tigged coast. I did not doubt that we had as covered an unknown land within the Arctic •Crcle. Bit it was sti 1 some miles away, and as usual difficult of access, and meantime the storn burst upon us in great fury. The ice broke under our feet, and reared up and piled itself about us in a most frightful way. But we were not unaccustomed to such f cenes, and sve worked manfully to reach the land with the dogs and sledge. We were making some progress when a dreadful misfortune befell its. A huge cake of ice rose perpendicularly twenty feet in air, and fell upon and crushed six ot our dogs to death! , - ‘ • Loolik, whose presence of mind never de serted him, sprang forward at onoe, arid cut ^ ^ ^ • he two living dogs loose from the dead ones. * , Our situation was certainly most pei lions and j ” th we were rescued from it by one of those acci- ” . dents that Arctic explorers know to be not “f uncommon. We were driven byfre: n- wi-g ice near a berg up the side of -*hioh we ‘re, AH needed in scrambling. We got into sort , ' **- alcove upon it with the dogs and sledge. ar-i i >' 'WVT remained there till the storm abated, bu; was not until many weary hours had passed - in preparing for the coming winter, which we i would doubtless find the coldest we had ever | known, as our position was so much farther ! north than usual. CHAPTER XIV. | ENTERING THE CAA’E—A BEAR FIGHT—REST. i I determined that if it should be found habit able, the cave should be our home for the pres- | ent. Indeed, I had every reason to believe j that it wo ild be our permanent abiding place } So, first providing ourselves with a light, and | turning the do.-s loose, we started under- I ground, most keenly interested in the search | for lodgings. The leoge upon which we stood grew wider as we progressed, and the stream still hugged the eastern wall. At about one hundred steps from the entrance we arrived at a point where the stream flowed into the cave from the eastern side, leaving our course open and un obstructed. As we pushed cautiously onward, our dogs suddenly began bristling and barking angrily, and though we had passed through too many dangers to be easily frightened, yet not knowing what new peril coulronted us. we considered it prudent to retreat to the en trance. Instantly a large bear came rushing past us, and I at once gave him the contents of my gun behind the shoulder. He turned and charged upon me furiously, and I retreated up the rooks as fast as possible. B it the dogs checked the savage beast, and Loolik, always prompt in emergencies, gave the death blow with his walrus harpoon. Rejoiced at this stroke of good fortune, we forgot everything for the time being, and turned our attention to flaying and cutting up the bear, and storing the meat on a shelf-like rock that served as a store house for all our supplies. We found ample sleeping room on the same ledge, which was very agreeable, as it was important to guard our provisions from any possible attack from bears. We saw many signs of these animals, and judged that they were plentiful in the neighborhood. I made me a b-d of furs and stretched my self upou it. The dogs crouched near me, and so cozy and home-like did our retreat seem, contrasting it with the dreadful past, that though the probability of ending my days in this spot was vividly present to my mind, yet I rested and slept with surprising tranquility. • ••••• Poor Loolik! It touched my heart to wit ness his grief. I also wondered at it, and rai led him upon it. “Loolik,” said I. “Why are you so cast down? Have we not the bear and the walrus in plenty about us? Why are you not as well content to live and die here as in Greenland?” My Esquimaux friend thus pressed told me a thing which in my ignorance of the savage character I had never once suspected, and which accounted for the extraordinary zeal with which he had prosecuted the long and perilous j uirneys I had shared with him. lie had been all the while (except during the last foolish expedition) seeking for the where abouts of a girl to whom he was affianced. He had hoped to find her with her parents on the northeast coast of Baffin’s Bay, but had been disappointed and bad m^dauLt now, be said, that whilst he was journeying to the North, she had been traveling to the South, and so they had missed each other. So even this wild mau had his cross and was desolate and unhappy. But we did not give way to repining. We devoted ourselves to hunting both as a busi ness and a diversion. Loolik’s favorite sport was walrus hunting, and he taught me the art of killing these strange animals. companionship I had enjoyed in my exile. I had hoped to reconcile myself in some degree to the life I seemed fated to lead. But when I parted from my companion an awful gloom fell upon me, and I wished I had been left to an endless sleep in the boat where Loolik had found me. CHAPTER XVII. ALONE!—FLIGHT OF THE WILD FOWL—A MTS- CIIAPTER XV. AVINTER OF 1851 2—LIFE IN THE CAVE. Winter came again. Owing to the shelter afforded by our cave dwelling I suffered less this season than ever before. The hardships of our condition were greatly ameliorated by a valuable discovery we made in November. Not far from our storehouse we found a vein, of excellent coal in the cave. We had little difficulty in accumulating an ample supply, and as the mine seemed inexhaustible we kept a good fire constantly burning. Only those who have lived in the frigid zones can have any proper conception of the sense of comfort I de rived from this sourcet'v Wc seldom went outside during the dark months, but when I did occasionally, I was surprised to find that the temperature seemed no more severe than it had been dining our first winters on the ships so much further South. We passed the tedious hours in such simple diversions as we could devise. Pursuits that under different circumstances would have seemed intolerably tedious, became a source of entertainment. I learned to dress the skins of animals we had killed and to cut and stitch them into clothing. Loolik was expert in such things, and from him I learned to nuke bone spear beads, knives and ornaments. Ah, there is nothing equal to labor for light ening a load of sorrow! I was often reminded as we sat by our warm coal fire enjoying our food, or busily at work, of Robinson Crusoe and Friday. Loolik and I became warmly attached, and I persuaded him to adopt more cleat ly habits than are common to the people of his race. From observing the color of his skin and other features, I came to believe that the Esquimaux should he classed as red men. Loolik, however, had no intelli gent idea of the origin of his ancestors. How strange it is that a remnant of God’s reasoning creatures should comtinue to live and die from generation to generation in a land of perpetual"ice! Is it not worthy the attention of Christians and philanthropists? Would it not be possible to induce them to migrate to a more genial climate where they and theiijsuffering children might be brought in contact with the civilizing influences of schools and churches? . . CHAPTER XVI. TUB SUN OF 1852— CHAPTER XIIL- OM-fiKNOWN ARCTIC COUNTRY—CVSCOVERT OF A CAVR. When the element* were, calm ‘again we made our way painially to the shore,ewhich we found to be rough, and indentM With nu- ■onerous small deep inlets. We jtrocapdptt to the northern terminus, or rather, toad of on* r of these, and came to a water-fall whioh pqttfcd .down apparently from a cavern above; -We managed to climb up the wall without great •difficulty, but could not transport the-stedge until we had first taken it in pieces. We now rested near the mouth of a cave, at of which a considerable stream of water 1 lowed over therocks, and fell into tbe ses^t ?tfrom lilne y, ,j me xmtil (prevented by cir- .atber, arm of the c^tances beyond my contort, cover the entire mouth of the cave, it ran on * ; _ . . t : .to Hrir * * • • • .'* * * ihe eastern side, leaving the western dry. To protect ourselves from the cold we' took jhelter in the cave, and I found it the most jomiortable house I had enjoyed the shelter of CALAMITY— .tched for th6 and' .hours, joecth'of the igtit And th what utT- him as he leisures even BBSS ^ v id diediv 1- ■ ? will dot attempt tat by thqMead * ’and gazed'teatfi last link that Co: was broken ^ . Noble savage! He hair snatched me from death and' nursed me back to life. He shrunk from no labor that could shield me; from no ''danger When my life had been imperiled. I 'friend, ... The meWitli'buman beings Hear the mouth of the cavern where there W&s a natural depression in the rock that was favorable, I constructed a tomb, and buried all that was mortal of my friend, and planted a short staff in the top to which was attached -a white streamer, upon which I had written these -■’words: ‘Sacred to the memory of Loolik.'’ I at some future time to carve upon the >nes a more extended history, but postponed For days after Loolik’s death and interment, I lay in bed a prey to melancholy. I had learned to be thankful and grateful for the But at length I became wearied of inaction and walked out of my cave with a gun and dogs, now my dearest and inseparable com panions. I ascend the highest point near me, and surveyed the still and desolate scene A flock of wild fowl passing to the northward, interrupted for a moment the death like pause, and set my mind speculating about the desti nation of these birds. . “Whither are they bound?” I queried. "Can it be that further North there is a warm clime to which these creatures resort to rear their young? A country uninhabited by man, where they breed and grow without disturb- An intensely interesting question, and one always in greater or less degree interwo ven with the North Pole problem. For by many sagacious minds it has been conjectured tuat there is probably a habitable country sur rounding the pole; a supposition which, how ever, must be looked upon as somewhat fanci ful; for according to known natural laws the cold must increase in sevotity as the pole is reached. But the question recurs again, why do the water fowls go still to the northward? So the puzzle lemains; and it would seem that if there is really a warm region around the North Pole, the sun’s beat must penetrate it more intenstly than is supposed, or the heat may be supplied in some manner not dreamed of bv mankind in the suniighted portions of the Globe, who, knowing no otaer great system of heat but the sun s rays, naturally take it to be the only one. _ , . My sterious land! About thee God has erect ed a in ghty barrier, against which man, the pitrtny wilt cast his fretful efforts in vain throughout the ages!” Thus communing with myself I wandered about aimlessly, and my thoughts tu ned to my home and family in sunny England, whose happy reunions would never know uiy presence again. A weakness as of childhood overcome me, and I wept pas sionately. "Fool! miserable fool! I exclaimed. Why could I not know when I was blest? In pur suit of a bubble I have cut myself off from all hope of earthly joy, and am doomed to die a desolate prisoner in these awful wastes of ice and s iow. Nothing is left me now but to take my own life, or reconcile myself to wait with such patience as I may be able to summon, un til it shall please God to cut off my wretched I looked toward the North and saw that the hills of ice rose higher and higher in that di rection. Southward the land terminated in precipices abutting on the ocean, which was but an endless plain of ice hammocks. I ques tioned myself over and over again as to what my course of conduct should be. Could 1 tol erate existence in this dreary place since Loo lik was gone? Should I leave the cave and un dertake to return again to the South? To do so seemed only to invite an eany death. Should I journey to the North? Attempt to scale those still rising ice-cliffs that led away in the dim distance toward the pole? If so, where fore? To perish amid the glistening peaks? So.—overwhelmed by the conviction that es cape was impossible, i returned to the cave, thankful indeed for its shelter, but without plans for the future. CHAPTER XVIII. A DIVERSION—EXPLORING THE CAVE. Time passed monotonously. To eat my homely meals, and sleep, and stroll occasion ally around the cave's entrance, formed my only employment. But finally I became curi ous to know more about my cave. This form ed a new sensation—a new theme for thought and inquiry, and my spirits rose at once. Ihe desire to explore soon took the shape of a reso lution, and 1 s.ized my gun and started on the expedition at once, followed of course by dogs which seemed overjoyed with anticipation of some new and exciting enterprise. My lan tern lighted our steps, and our way was gener ally easy. Now and then, however we were interrupted by masses of stone which blocked the way, but we climed over these without great difficulty. , < We traveled on without serious obstructions for about two miles. Up to this paint the cave was an almost straight avenue running nearly due north. But now it seemed we Lad reached the farthest limit, as there was a wall of rock before us, as well as on either side. I began to despair as this last means of employment seemed cut off; for I had begun to hope that this subterranean mansion extended its rami fications indefinitely, so that I might spend my life in studying its secret recesses. Crestfallen to find myself thwarted in my great scheme of exploration, I turned about and began a careful examination of the eastern wall, slowly retracing my steps towards the entrance. I hoped I might find an opening branching off to the eastward, which would furnish me with employment some future time. In my inward journey I had remained midway between the walls, and therefore might easily have passed an open way on either side with out observing it. But although I searched care fully all the way back I found nothing but a solid wall on the eastern side, except where the stream entered. I was now arrived back at home, so to speak, an t was very tired and hungry. I laid down to my repose, deter mined that as soon as sufficiently rested I would inspect every foot of the western wall in search of an opening, as it seemed reasona ble to expect that the same cause which had produced the main cave, had produced also others or lateral ones. CHAPTER XIX. FURTHER EXPLORATIONS—AN ALARM. Accordingly I inspected the Western wall, but without success until I arrivtd again at the Northern wall as on my first journev. But in the Northwestern corner, near the floor, I de tected an opening. I stooped down and peered in upon impenetrable darkness. I took up a stone and cast it through. It fell some dis tance before striking; but when it did strike it made a prodigious noise and awakened a thou- As 1 stood before the dark opening I was more forcibly struck than I had ever been with a singular fact connected with this cavern. I had frequently noticed that the atmosphere seemed to have two motions underground. Sometimes it would pass into the cave from the South; at others it would pass out of the cave as though from the North. When the movement would be towards the interior, every alcove would be chilled; but when the movement was from inside, the tem perature became comparatively mild. But now a well-defined and unmistakable current fanned my cheeks from the interior. My excitement now was without bounds. 1 was all eagerness to enter tbe new chamber, which I fancied to be of vast and magnificent proportions. If I had been at home and had discovered this cave in my neighborhood, I should have felt a dread of its dark passages; and whilst my curiosity would doubtless have led me to explore it, I should have done so with the greatest imaginable caution. But not s» did I feel now. I think if such a thing could ■have been possible, I would have dared to enter even the Plutopian regions, to such a degree were my nerves and imagination wrought upon by-my situation. . I therefore, sort of rt ckless'frenzy, dim bed up into'the aperture and leaned for ward, throwing^ibe light'of my lantern into an apartment whose flebr.^as twenty five or thirty feet lower than the ope I, had traversed. The ceiling was lotty,' fiut I bould not from my po sition make out' th* fllmensiona of the place. I called my dogs and plant bed down to the floor; bat before proceedutg. further, for fear of get ting lost in those gloomy halls, I left a light near the door which-1 determined not to lose sight of. I found tins’ room of immense di mensions. I made oat that I had entered it from the Southwestern cornel In examining it I turned to the right and traversed the South ern wall in its lead to the Eastward. I turned frequently to see that my beacon light contin ued to burn. Counting my steps, I found I traversed about two hundred feet before reaching the South eastern comer. The wall then turned North ward, and ! followed its lead until I came to a hall leading off to the right. But I did not en ter; I passed it. My progress was of course slow and cautions, as my lamp afforded a poor light tod revealed only objects near by. At no great distance the pitchy darkness closed down and seemed impenetrable. I was regretting that I did not have the means of making a bon fire as I doubted Dot the effect would be sub lime. Thus speculating, I turned and found that my light at the entrance had disappeared. This alarmed me and I hastily retraced my steps, and had gone bnt a short distance when it reappeared to my great satisfaction, for in my panic I had begun to picture to myself the awful fate of being lost. I nis ceed, as it seemed I had been : upon a new opening or branch But, as exploration was my purpose employment, I was not to be deterrediby any ordinary or doubtful hazard. So I staved for ward again, watching my flight almost con stantly. It disappeared again, and it w*s evi dent something had intervened to cat off its rave from me. I moved forward again, and In a few momenta. it. sprang out of the darkness once more. This occurred several times doting my progress, so that I concluded the ceiling was supported by natural columns or that piles of stones lay on the floor. The Northeastern corner of this room I found to be about one hundred and fifty feet from the Southeastern, and the Northern wall started away as if to describe a great carve or cres cent. 1 traversed this curve until .1 reached the Northwestern :orner, _ when my attention was arrested by an opening in.the Northern wall. I was contemplating whether I should crawl through it and glltapse at the unknown bevond or postpone this until X should become acquainted with the great rooin I had been out lining, when I was terribly startled by a sudden and tremendous sound. I should have men tioned that the noire produced by our move ments—a footfall, the disturbance of a stone- had been, since leaving the outer cave, almost terrifying. I had begun to fear that if I re mained permanently in this place I should lose the use of speech, so much did I dread the re echoing and reverberating that endued the slightest use of the voice. But if these slight disturbances made so great an imroression upon the stillness, let tbe leader imagine the awful effects of the dreadful thundering noise that now burst upon me. It was like the firjpg ot cannons. For a few seconds I was almost paralyzed as the echo:s rolled and resounded t round me; but sil-nce soon came again md I recovered my composure. 1 could not c’stermiud with certainty what bad happened, but concluded the concussion bad been produced by the fall ing of a large mass of st- ne from the ceiling. This exciting incident m*de ire real ze that it was dangerous ti be ramblingabout in those chambers, but I was somehow become almost insensible to tear. My light at the entrance still shone Xwtb, and being wearied with tramping, and hungry, l turned my steps homeward; and after a hearty meal in company wilh n y dear, faithful dogs, I sought my bed, where, wrapped in pleasant furs, 1 ruminated over the discoveries I had made until my conceptions of tbe real became interwoven with the fanciful texture of dreams. [to bf. continued ] Welsh Savings. Three things that never become rusty—the money of the benevolent, the shoes of the bu’cher’s horse, aud a woman’s tongue. Three things not easily done—to aiiey thirst with fire, to dry wet witn water, and to please all in everthing that is done. Three things that are as good as the best- brown bread in a famine, well water in thirst, and a gray coat in cold. Three things as good as their better—dirty water to extinguish the fire, an ugly wife to a blind man, aud a wooden sword to a cow- ard. ' Tiree warning from the grave— Thou knowest what I was; thou seest what I am: remember what thou art to oe.” Three things of short continuance—a lady' s love, a chip fire, and a brook fl rod Three things that ought never to be from home—the cat, the chimney, and the house- wife Three essentials to a false story teller—a good memory, a bold face, and fools for an ^Three things that are seen in a peacock— the garb of an angel, the walk of a thief, and the voice of the devil. Three things it is unwise to boast of—the flavor of thy ale, the beauty of thy wife, and the contents of thy puree. Three miseries of a man’s house—a smoky chimney, a dripping roof, aud a scolding wife. A Wonderful Lake. [Virginia City (Nev.) Enterprise.] Mono Lake is fall of soda, borax, and miner als in solution. The water of both! Owens and Mono Lakes is a natural detergent. Tfrtf* dirt- est and greasiest of clothing is made clean in half a minute by simply riushing the article in the lake. It lathers naturally When agitated. When there is a high wind a wall of suds three or four feet high is seen along that shore upon which the waves beat. This quavering wall which are seen all the Colors qf‘ the ■ rtj and as many bwxi’t^ R8- are" n by t e doscope—would grow to a height of te twelve feet before toppling over, but that when it attains a certain height the wind catches it up and waf s great balls of it far inland. Some of these floating balloons of lather' are as big as a flour barrel. John Bennetto, of the Yale Senior class, has been awarded one of the Townsend prizts. Mr. Bennetto is a compositor and has paid a part of his college expenses by setting type during vacation. I)r. R. C. Flower, ot Boston, is visiting Sil ver Cliff, Col. He has an interest in the silver mines at that place whichhe va uesat $14,000,- 000. He also owns one of the finest orange plantations in Florida. He lives in a S200.000 residence in Boston. Dr. Flower was born at Albion, 111., which town his grandfather. George Flower, founded. George Flower was an Englishman of good family and went to Il linois in 1818. A few months after his arrival in that State he laid out the town of Albion. He was a personal friend of Jefferson and La- Fayette. There are 617 conductors on the Santa F’e road, and each one carries a punch that makes a different hole from any of the others. A y oung ladv said at the recent meeting of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union in Savannah: “Chivalry, which has fled from all other quarters, has taken refuge in the news paper offices.” It is unnecessary to state, says the gallant Nashville, Tenn., Union, that this young lady is the prettiest and brightest representative of her sex in Georgia. Maryland employs 60,000 persons in putting up canned goods, an industry in which she now leads all the States in the Union. She sapplies 50,000,000 cans of oysters annually. In Hartford countv alone 24,000,000 cans of tomatoes and 12,000,000 cans ot corn are pre pared for the market every year, ard one firm in Frederick City puts up 2,500,000 cans of corn in season. Allie was watching a particulaly briilant sun set, where ail the colors of the spectrum gave a glowing radiance to the heavens. She stood still for a few miuutes, lost in admiration, and then with a burst of inspiration asked: "O, mamma, is that inlaid lightning?”—[Harper's Bazar. White tailor-made suits in simple designs of serge and camel’s hair, will be worn for morn ings in the country. They are lovely in fit and comfortable in feeling when worn over the tailor-cut and tailor made corset of Foy, Harmon & Chadwick, which "fills the bill” for these graceful, useful costumes. Miss Helen Cooper-Parr, a niece of Feni- more Cooper, the novelist, will shortly appear on the English stage in a new play. Gov. Davis, of Rhode Island, is a widower, and the unmarried women in Newport are al ready convinced that he possesses all the qual ities of a statesman. James Goidon Bennett proposes to place bis sister’s son, young Bell, at the head of the Herald, when the boy is grown. * * * * Delicate diseases of either sex, however induced s peedily and permanently cur ed. Book of particulars 10 cents in stamps. Addr-ss, World’s Dispensary Medical Associa tion, 663 Main Street, Buffalo, N. Y. Mrs. Cleveland’s note-paper and envelopes are stamped with the words “Executive Man sion, Washington,” in small silver capitals, and the seal in white wax bears her mono gram. Snug Little Fortunes may be had by all who are sufficiently intelli gent and enterprising to embrace the oppor tunities which occasionally are offered them. Ilallett & Co,, Portland, Maine, have something new to effer in the line of work which you can do for them, and live at home, wherever you are located. Profits immense and every work er is sure of over $5 a day. several have made over 850 in a single day. All ages; both sexes. Capital not required; you are started frete; all particulars free. You had better write flo them at once. t CHAT. Of course it is dreadfully wicked. There is nothing dignified nor womanish about it. Then think of the sun-tan and freckles, and cruelty to the poor things—ihe only amuse* ment, if it could be termed that, to be derived from the sport. Yes, I know it i3 Sunday, and across the meadows zephyrs bear me the sound of Sun day-school bells, whose sweet, mellow music sometimes jiugle in with the tinkling bells of the mild-eyed Jerseys near by. True it is the holy Sabbath morn, and while everything seems conscious of the fact, in White Wings”—a fairy skiff—I pass the time deliciously (to use a school girl phrase) away, fishing and dreaming of ye merry House hold. Horrible thought. But none of them need be any the wiser, for I am off here with only Nature—Rural Widow’s love—and the cows and flies and fish to keep me company. They won’t tell, certainly, and I won’t I know. 1 wrote to Rural Widow yesterday, thank ing her for the nice invitation, and sen ling her one in return. If I could run up to see her for a few days—but banish the thought which is already forming Chateaux ert JEspagne. Rural Widow was touched with madness when she visited that beer garden. At our next meet ing we must seriously consider the case and place her in China’s safe keepiug. Ira Jones complains for lack of attention or thanks on tbe part of the members. But he should know that his visits are appreciated, or he would not find welcoming faces ready to greet his return. We do seem to be wooden folk at times though. For like everybody else we are too busy with number one to be in sym pathy with another’s thoughts or movements. His room must be an attractive place. The antique volumes he once sent Nixy will al ways be highly prized; they are carefully stowed away with the rest of her museum. t Fanny M., a new member from far away New England, touches upon domestic work. Both her letters are good and may her visits be repeated. Hemlock once asked me "if not a fatalist, what means the words, ‘think not of th9 mor row’?” I have already said and thought and written a great deal on the subject which seems endless in variety of comment. "Think not of the morrow” to my mind means take no care for the greater events or turning points in one’s life. They are already written by the unseen hand of destiny and cannot be changed one way or the other. Where my non-fatalism comes in is that we should think of the minor affairs, endeavor by will-power to he all that is good and true and nob e. When that is done, all is done in our power, and “angels can do no more.” Into His tRd we shouid put o91; trust and. say: “Do Thou the rest.” At times the much abused typo will per spite mix thinks sadly. In that chat of mine about grumblers against Fate, my intention was to do away with fate and substi.ute the better word—Providence. Instead of saying “the minor events are Fate’s decrees” I meant that they were at our own disposal, to make or mar. I wonder if Hemlock ever studied the phi- los iphy of history, then on the other hand considered the question of self-will, finally mixing the views of both subjects together. If so, what was his conclusion? Mother Hubbard. mountain Scenery. Dear Household: So loog have I desired to chat with you but domestic cares called me away from the much desired pleasure, and pointed out various duties awaiting my atten tion. “Man’s work's from sun to sun, But woman’s work is never done.” I most heartily endorse the quotation. Yes, and before 1 finish this letter I will be called away a dozen times to do something, or buy something, or season some dish, or measure the ingredients for dessert, or something else. By and bye I will get through, perhaps. I am now cozily seated at my window and my thoughts revert to my unseen friend, Mont gomery, and the little poetical' clipping accom panied by a dainty faded flower. How inde scribably sweet is the odor. Ycu can’t know the true estimate I place upon the little token of unseen friendship. You, I presume, are fond of flowers. Nothing tends to refine the mind more than flowers, “l’oule Da Bruyere,” suppose it was my miserable, illegible hand- writing that caused the type setter to disguise your notn so horribly. I thought of it after reading my letter in print, but too late then. Thanks for your complimentary remarks. I am sure the “admiration is mutual.” In the future let’s be good friends, will you? I feel a warm attachment for those of my native State. Write to me p ease. Musa Dunn, this day reminds me of yonr visit to Tennessee, and your description of the mountain scenery. Why don’t you paint it up, though it doesn’t require coloring to make it interesting. Oh, grand, sublime, lovely nature, how I do adore thee. Is it not deplorable that thousands should live through life and die without touch ing the feasts every where spread before them? They are insensible to the “sweet approach of eve or morn,” and blind to the beauties of na ture. We in this country are surrounded by some picturesque sights The scenery on the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad is almost equal to that of Switzerland, but of course we do not appreciate our own scenery like that abroad. Those who have traveled the road from Nashville to Chattanooga can speak for the truth of my assertion. What is more ex- ailing to the mind than the mountain scenery on the N. & C. road. How can one live amidst the beauties of nature, and be like those of whom Byron wrote: “Poor paltry slaves, bom midst noble scenes. Why, nature,waste thy woudersjon such men.” The scenery on the Cincinnati Southern is not surpassed by any in this country, though one feels a little faint at heart when crossing the Tennessee high bridge, which is 286 feet high over the Kentucky river. The train steals across the bridge very cautiously whispering danger! danger! I have neglected noting the important points or places of interest, so long, that I will not at this late hour undertake to describe the beau ties on the way, bnt leave you to draw on your imagination. Suflice it to say my visit to Cin cinnati was quite p'.easaDt. I spent five days in that mammoth city. Next year comes in her 100th birth day, 1888. We chartered a carriage and drove for .miles and miles, through Clifton, the suburban of Cincinnati. I almost envied those moneyed men with their magnifi cent homes, where the streams gushing from|tbe mountain sources leap and dance along their de scending channels, while the silvery river winds through the green grassy grounds of Clifton. We cautiously slipped up oa a beer garden, away out among the birds and flowers. The mustc first attracted our attention. Now don’t condemn me for venturing inside the enclo sure, which was about a half acre, enclosed with a neat iron fence or railing. Inside were | a ! l kindsof flowers aud birds, hanging baskets, and a lovely fountain playing in the center, and in one obscure corner were seated the mu sicians. Scattered through the grounds were small tables, promiscuously placed about, just large enough to seat four comfortably. All present seemed to be perfectly happy. We, a party of four, were seated at one table and re fused the beer, but enjoyed tbe ice cream, aud were the only ones who refused beer. I felt that I had halted at the wrong pew, and was constantly looking around to see if I recog nized any familiar face. At last I caught the eye of a well-known commercial tourist. I immediately aro«ie and said to my escort, “L°t’s go.” He said, “ Wait awhile.’’ I left, and soon the others followed. I was satisfi-d with one trip to the beer garden. So much for a woman’s curiosity. The next p.ace os interest was the Geological garden, which contains sixty acres, tiffi-d witn all kinds of beasts, birds, snakes and fl iwers. too tedious to mention. We dined at the din ing hall, where I counted 1 000 seats—not all filled at one time. We were entertained while eating, bv a stringed bond. The music was grand. After descending the incliued plane we visited Fountain Square, and saw a lovely fountain playing leisurely through the fingers of a woman with outstretched arms. This statue is made of blaek marble, very tall and grand, with quite a number of other designs around nearer the base. The work was done in Italy, shipped over here and presented to the city by a private individual; it cost over 8100,000. I will have to stop before I get through, as my pen chat is already too long for our corner. Mother Hubbard, or ; never mind, my little woman, I won’t give you away, but I do want Veritas to know who you are. You were always a favorite of his. Can I tell him your true name or old nom? Italic, I am in lore with you. Susie Steel, here is my hand. Roccacio, I once enjoyed your spicy pen chats. Don’t forsake us; the way is clear. Pansy, bye-and-bye, my dear friend; I have not foYgi-tten. But Burton is unmindful of her promise. Olive lone, what will you give me to tell you his true name? Doubtless he has already re vealed all. No Nom, you may be my friend; and, Dew Drop, where art thou? Vaurian, your thoughts on paper send a vibrating thrill through me. Do you know Pansy ? You see, I have found out something, but will keep mute. Rural Widow. Wartrace, Tenn. We Northern women are “great” for bits of work to catch up in our odd moments, aud I wonder if some of our pretty knitting patterns wouldn’t be acceptable to our sisters of the sunLy South? KNIT EDGING. Cast on 35 stitches and knit once across plain. 1st row. Knit 4, over and narrow 15 times, over, knit 1. (36 stitches). 2nd row. Plain. Also the 4th, 6th, 8th, 10th, 12th, 14th, 16th, 18th and 20th rows. 3rd vow. Knit, 7, over aud narrow 14 times, over, knit 1. (37). 5th row.. Knit 10, over and narrow, 13 times, over, knit 1. (38). 7th row. Knit 13, over and narrow 12 times, oyer, knit 1. (39). 9th row. Knit 16, over and narrow 11 times, over, knit 1. (»b). 11th row. Knit 19, over and narrow 10 times, over, knitl. (41). 13th row. Knit 22, over aud narrow 9 times, over, knit 1. (42). 15th row. Knit 25, over and narrow, 8 times, over, knit 1. (43). 17th row. Knit 28, over and narrow 7 times, over, knit 1. (44). 19th row. Knit 31, over and narrow 6 times, over, knit 1. (45). 21st row. Plain. 22nd row. Cast off 10, knit the remainder. Knit from the 1st row. Tbe beauty of this doesn’t show until several scollops are knit. It is a good pattern for worsted. A NARROW CROCHET EDGE. Make a chain of 7. 1st row. Crochet 3 trebles (thread over once) into 4th chain, 3 chain, 3 trebles into same stitch, making a shell, 4 chain; turn. 2nd row. Shell into 3 chain of last row, 1 lorg treble (over twice) into 3 chain at point of shell, 4 chain; turn. 3rd row. Shell, 2 chain, 3 trebles into 4 chain, 4 chain; turn. 4th row. 3 trebles into 2 chain, 2 chain, shell in shell, 1 long treble in point, 4 ebaiu; turn. 6th row. Shell in shell, 2 chain, 3 trebles in 2 chain of last row, 2 chain, 3 trebles in 2 chain, 4 chain; turn. 6th row. 3 trebles in 2 chain, 2 chain, 3 tre bles in 2 chain, 2 chain, shell, 1 long trebles in point, 4 chain; turn. 7lh row. Shell, 4 chain; turn. Sister Fanny. Worcester, Mass. The Confederate Dead. Mellow moonlight floods the earth, cresting, each hoary oak, and turning it into molten' light. This has been memorial day with those who find a s id pleasure in scattering flowers upon the graves of the Confederate dead—a pleasure that should find response in every Southern heart, yes Cover them over with beau iful flowers— Cover them over, these heroes of ours. No flower is too costly to adorn the last resting place of warriors, tried and true, mar tyrs for a cause, which the lost was none the less just, none the less dear. What a touching tribute in the words— “Tears and prayers are the only crown We can bring to wreathe each brow.” A fair, sunny lard was our South in the ol den days, and the malice of whispering tongues can never poison that bright truth. A verita ble Eden where the cruel serpent, War, placed his fangs and threw darkness black as night over sunlit fields. Sorrow draws hearts closer, and those hours of common danger, of mutual sacrifice and unmeasured woe, will ever live within the recess of the “rebel’s” heart. Our land has taken her place among the na tions of the earth. Not as some would faio have us think because of pampered idleness overcome, because of slavish vices well re strained. But because of rich lands abound ing in e»rth|s choicest blessings; because of the massive intellect that has a vayed for years our people; because of a people who, when rudely thrust; from the ideal world they had created, bent their best energies there to im mortalize a United Government. True, our country bears upon her breast unsightly scars; but “Historic nations must have their scars ” must make their deeply graven signatures ’if they would have that priceless heritage an untarnished record. Though both North and South are joined together by a tie of silt and yet of steel—a tie fixed by divine decree; yet separate are th* ir memorial days, and as the hand of the North crowns her dead heroes’ graves with laurels, the loving hands of South ern friends will strew lavishly with pure white lilies, the graves of those dead patriots who gladly aDd willingly laid down their lives for the Lost Cause. Ah well!— The fight is done, The day was won And Southern foe’s must yield. Yet, let no man dare asperse the cause, nor desecrate the memory of the Confederate dead, for they, with their heart’s blood, have paid the forfeit. And that should be sacred- O j I leave them to rest nor • UUnply scorn Tbe prayer hallowed sod— The green turt Is holy that covers their breast— their Itves they have given, Their souls are with God. Covington, Tenn. Clio. " The Cleveland (Ohio) Press} of February 23d, 1883, pub- lished an account of a fatal surgical operation which caused a great commotion among med ical men throughout the whole country, Dr. Thayer, the most eminent surgeon in Cleveland, pronouncing it scandalous. It appears that a Mrs. King had been suffering for many years from some disease of the stom ach, which had resisted the treatment of all the physicians in attendance. The disease commenced with a slight de rangement of the digestion, with a poor appetite, followed by a peculiar indescribable dis tress in the stomach, a feeling that has been described as a faint “all gone” sensation, a sticky slime collecting about the teeth, causing a disagree able taste. This sensation was not removed by food, but, on the contrary, it was increased. After a while the hands and feet became cold and sticky— a cold perspiration. There was a constant tired and lan guid feeling. Then followed a dreadful nervousness, with gloomy forebodings. Finally the patient was unable to re tain any food whatever, and there was constant pain in the abdomen. All prescribed rem edies failing to give relief, a consultation was held, when it was decided that the patient had a cancer in the stomach, and in order to save the patient’s life an operation was justifi able. Accordingly, on the 22d of February, 1883, the opera tion was performed by Dr. Vance in the presence of Dr. Tuckerman, Dr. Terrier, Dr. Arms, Dr. Gordon, Dr. Capner, and Dr. Halliwell of the Police Board. The operation consist ed in laying open the cavity of the abdomen and exposing the stomach and bowels. When this had been done an examin ation of the organs was made, but to the horror and t^ismay •' of the doctors there w*as no cancer to be found. The pa tient did not have a cancer. When too late the medical men discovered that they, had made a terrible mistake; < • at they sawed tbe parts together and dressed the wound that they had made, but the poor woman sank from exhaustion and died in a few hours. How sad it must be for the husband of this poor woman to know that his wife died from the effects of a surgical operation that ought never to have been performed. If this woman had taken the proper remedy for Dyspepsia and Kervous Prostration (for this was what the disease really was), she would have been liv ing to-day. Shaker Extract of Boots, or Seioel’s Cueativb Syrup, 5t remedy made ex pressly for Dyspepsia or Indi gestion, has restored many such cases to perfect health after all other kinds of treatment have failed. The evidence of its ellicacy in curing this class of cases is too voluminous to be published here; but those who read the published evidence in favor of this dyspeptic remedy do not question its convincing nature, and the article has ao,’ extensive sale. SORE THROAT, CROUP AND HOARSE NESS CURED BY USING i Holmes’! Month* Wash! and DENTIFRICE. PERSONS We.irlnjr Artificial Teeth should use HOLMES’ MOUTH WASH and DENTIFRICE. It will keep the gums heal thy and free from soreness; keeps the plat* from getting loose and being offensive. A Pure Breath, Clean Teeth and Heal thy Gums by using Holmes’ Mouth Wash and Dentifrice. Try it. - A Persistent Feeling of Cleanliness re mains for hours after using Holmes’ Month Wash and Dentifriee. From John H. Coyle, D. O. 8., Profes sor Operative Dentistry and Den tal Materia Medica, Balti more Dental College. Having been shown the formula for Holmes* Sure Cure Mouth Wash and Dentifrice. I will say that from my knowledge of the therapeu tic action of each of these substances entering into its composition on deseased mucus mem branes of the mouth and gums, I believe it to be a specific in a large number of the ordinary deseased conditions for which it is recommend ed. I say this on theoretic grounds and am satisfied that a practical test of this mouth wash in my own practice has more than justi fied my expectations. I therefore reccommend it for general use aud would be glad to know that every man and woman in the country would try it for themselves, believing that it will result in great good to those who use it as directed. Athens, Ga.—I have had occasion recently to test the virtues of your Sure Cure Month Wash in an aggravated case of inflamed and ulcerated gums, with most gratifying re sults. 'I find that I can accomplish more in a short time with Sore Core Month Wash than any other one of the many similar prepara tions I have ever used in my practice of many years. I wish that every one, old and young, would use your preparation according to the printed directions, and then, I think, the den tist would be able to accomplish more good for their patients, and do it with more satisfaction to all concerned. H. A. LOWRANCE, D. D. 8. 1 npumci WaWI'Eo (8imoi-H KitEE) lor 1)U AliPiii I ffEorrs t>-<«u!»ui electric cor- mimt iu 8Br8i brushes, belts, g% no risk, quick sales. Terncorr <lven. naci.'factioo euare anteed. Dr. Scott's 843 Broadway, If. T S>90 set cow
