Georgia Historic Newspapers

    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