About The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907 | View Entire Issue (July 2, 1887)
THE 8UNNY SOUTH, ATLANTA, GA, SATURDAY MORNING, JULY 2, 1887. THE'NEW COLUMBUS; —OR — Narrative of the Sole Survivor of Sir John Franklin’s Last Arctic Expedition. [COPYRIGHT SECURED, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] CHAPTER XXVI. Necessity brings us face to face with the practical. After I had fasted forty-eight hours my bodily wants occupied my attention to the exclusion of the mysterious lights and every thing else. The knawing of famine meant death! At my feet there were empty shells. It sud denly occurred to iny mind that the water might supply me with some sort of food. This was a fortunate thought, for I found a gaod many shell tish in the shallows, which I cooked with lire obtained by breaking up one of the boats. , _ _ . . . I remembered that I had read of tish being found in underground waters, and after repeat ed failures and at the expense of great labor I made a hook out of a piece of bone, and bait ing it with the raw tlesh of shell-fish, had the unspeakable gratification of catching plentiful supplies of scale tish. The change in my diet greatly improved my health and spirits, and I resolved to get the smallest of the boats afloat if possible. This I finally succeeded in doing, but it was so rotton and leaky I feared to trust myself in it. , Feared did I say? I had forgotten the mean ing of the term. * . .. Taking up the oar that lay in the bottom and calling my dogs to my side, I pushed oil boldlv from terra Jirma. . Now, I said to myself, I will steer straight for the lights and solve the mystery. sionally I would rest and let the boat drift, and when I had gone, I should think, something like two miles from the shore, 1 could hear noises that sounded like the splashing of wa ter. _ Imagine my astonishment and terror when I sudddenly found myself in the midst of a school of animals that surrounded the boat and glared at me with tierce eyes from every side! 4 . . They had evidently been attracted by my lantern, and had come from their play-grounds in great numbers to meet me. My light was insufficient to afford me an) satisfactory view of the size of the creatures; and its dimness served to give me if possible an exaggerated notion of their numbers and monstrous appearance. Panic stricken, I turned my boat and pudcu for the shore I had left as fast as possible. Hut my strange foes pursued and surrounded me again and again. Whether they were moved by curiosity, or were intent upon de vouring me was dillicult to judge of. Hut their bellowings and mad actions were such as to keep alive the most dreadful apprehensions in my mind. . . My attention wss so occupied with looking from side to side, and behind to avoid surprise —(for I feared they would climb up into the boat), I got out of the proper course and struck a sharp rock with such force as to stave a hole through my rotten craft. As the water rush ed in, ami the boat began to settle, my Pur suers fathered about me in multitudes, and it seemed I must be forced to test their purpose in a very few seconds. Hut in this dire ex tremity I remembered my gun and the many good services it had done me. Snatching it up and selecting the one that I took to be the leader of the hideous herd I shot him between the eyes, and instantly the entire assemblage fled with tremendous flound- erings in the direction from whence they had j come, and left me clinging to my boat that j was hanging in dee]) water on the point of ilie rock that had pierced its bottom. Nothing ^ was left me now but a swim, and so I turned ! loose and struck out for the shore with my | faithful dogs following in my wake, and after half an hour’s struggle in the water, we reach ed the land in safety. As i lay panting on the shore in darkness an erratic fancy passed through my mind; suppose the lights belonged to the abode of departed spirits or demons and the monsters of the lake served them as watch- | I began after this tj yield to superstitious read, and felt very much as timid and credu- ias persons must feel who live in haunted □uses. For I reasoned that it was impossi- le to believe human beings lived at this re- ioie-distance underground. v 1 uabie to tolerate indefinitely tl > t?mta..z- ig effects of gazing incessantly upon the un- qdained illumination, 1 began to think a vat deal about returning to the mouth of the ive, but the difficulty of supplying myself ith food for the long journey caused me to ut it off from time to time. Listless, purposeless and sad, I at length irned my back to the hateful lights, and imbed the stair that had brought me to the tke-side. . . . * Turning for a moment at the summit to look own once more upon the receding lights, I as attracted by a new phenomenon. From le east far to the left a moving light suddenly inie in view, and glided like a shooting star, :ily much more slowly, off and out of sight »the west! Oh, how many weary hours I tssed conjecturing, and watching m vain for s return! At length I tore myself away from the fasci sms spot. I crossed over the level table l*scribed before, and descended thence by the rst stairway to the place where 1 had found le terminus of the passage which had brought le to those remote and silent regions. I hen lay down, and sought sleep, the only sur- gase of the sorrows that so relentlessly pur- CHAPTKU XXVII. I slept long and well, and icas awakened l»j the sound of human voire*. I sprang up in the wildest excitement, an 1 my dogs "cowered trembling at my feet. I could distinctly hear, through the opening be fore me, the sound oj o<irs and human voices at i distance. ,, . . . Hut no, it was impossible! \ oices m those remote depths? •lam insane!” I cried. T have lost my reason! The darkness and the silence and the | horrors of my situation have driven me mad ! () t God ! I must parish a shrieking maniac in these awful dungeons!” 1 pinched my cheeks and beat myself in ni) nervous frenzy. Hut the voices ap- ; proiched, and the oars rattled and the water ! splashed! I vvas standing in total darkness. 1 stood still an<l listened, with my heart beating wildly and my breath coming in gasps. I fancied I could see the reflection of a light. I dropped j upon my hands and knees and crept carefully to the edge of the precipice. Taking a firm hold, I thrust my head out, and. turning my face to the Southward, I beheld a boat withtoreh lights awl men moving rapidly to the Xorthward! ! What my thoughts or feelings were I cannot ! say. But, deeming it impossible that human j beings could dwell there, I felt a terror, a j weakness, a horror taking possession oi me. j And as the boat approached I verily expected i to iind it occupied by devils or hobgoblins, j But they were men. And as they came up ami | swept past me, some twenty or thirty rods ! away I could plainly see their yellow faces 1 and black hair and the swaying of their bodies as they propelled the oars. My position was thirty feet, or thereabout, above the water, and 3 remained silent as they went by, and could not summon courage to hail them. I still could not realize that they were flesh and blood; or if they were, I feared they might be cannibals or monsters of cruelty. The boat drifted rapidly away and tho lights grew dim. Then I suddenly realized that I had lost, in all probability, the only opportunity I should ever have of escaping from my imprisonment. “Seized with a feeling of despair, I stretched myself forward and shouted again and again, with all my power, to attract the attention of the vanishing voyagers. But they did not cause The great distance and the noise of the water’ and the oars had prevented my cries from reaching them. I now gave myself up once more to renewed grief and despair, and cursed my cowardice and want ot judgment. CHAPTER XXVIII. For a long time I sat in silence and thought of the wonderful sight I had seen. Then I began to doubt my senses again, and half helieved I had been dreaming. Then I thought it was not a dream, but the ] ant j“ t '® vision of a disordered mind. I bad dwelt so long and incessantly upon my separation from mankind that my reason was destroyed, and my diseased imagination had converted my thoughts into a pleasant but fleeting picture. * • • * * * But then, I said, it must have lieen real. How could I have invented the lights and the voices and the strokes of the paddles? And had not my dogs testified by their low winnings that they had also seen the boat? But would a sane man in my position have suffered the boat to pass unspoken ? ****** Finally, in my perplexity, I argued that if indeed I had beheld a boat and human beings, I should probably see them again, or others like them. The men I had seen were surely not lost, but well acquainted with their surroundings, as shown by their collected and business-like con duct. This view had the effect of calming and con soling me to some extent, and it proved a cor rect conclusion, for in a few hours I heard the sound of oars again in the same direction as before. I could see a boat approaching witli three men on board. Resolving to face my fate, whatever it might be, I hastily lighted my lantern and swung it out over the water. The men in the boat saw it instantly and changed her course so she drifted out further from tho slioro or wall where I stood. Fearing that I would be left again, I beck oned with the light ami shouted to them to come to uiy relief. The men rested on their oars, and the boat drifted slowly along until it was opposite the mouth of my cave and not more than iifty feet away. The strangers were as much astonished at me as I was at them. And no wonder, for my appearance was anything but pleasant to look upon. Xeither my beard or hair had been cut for four or live years, an 1 I was clad entirely in the hairy skins of wild animals. Standing there in tho month of the cave, lantern in hand, gun on my shoulder and dogs at my side, I must have looked more like a beast or demon than a human being. The boatmen consulted together and doubt ed evidently the safety of approaching me. But I continued to beckon and call, and the man in the bow answered me In an unknown tongue. Then he gave a sharp command', and the boat was turned to the shore. Tho leader stood up as they touched the rocky ledge below me, and 1 was greatly struck with his tall form and graceful carriage. lie bore no weapons save a bow and a knife at his girdle. Above his left shoulder I could see the upper portion of a quiver lillcd witli arrows, and as he stepped boldly on tho shore, he drew one forth and lilted it to the string, as if in warning to me. Then he made me a sign to descend, and I was soon at his side. As I turned my face to the men who sat in the boat, I removed my cap, and the light or their torch fell upon my face. The three gazed upon my countenance with amazement, and addressed ejaculatory words to ono another, which 1, of course, could not understand. My gun they also regarded with extreme curiosity. CHAPTER XXIX. While we stood contemplating each other two other boats passed, one toward the south and the other towaril the north; but they were a considerable distance away and took no notice of us. At a sign from the leader I stepoed into tho boat and sat down by his side. My dogs, gun, etc., were also taken on board, and the men resumed their voyage. I now had leisure to observe them more carefully, and was chiefly impressed with the uniformity of their appear ance. They ail had yellow skins and black hair and b ard. Their hair fell ti the shoul ders, their beards covered the lower face and tapered to a point below their chins. In dress they resembled pictures I had seen of the ancient Homans. But the apparel of the leader was of much liner and more showy texture, and his garments were cut in more tasteful fashion than those of the men who worked the oars. They were a group of re markably handsome men, and I thought they most he r ; pi"I specimen* I had not forgotten to observe the time soon after our departure, and I wondered how long our journey would be, and what our destina tion was. The torcli that lighted our way was a metal lamp with a ragged wick, an i was swung on a rod set upright. It gave a brigiit flaring light. I could not make out the width of the stream we were floating upon. I could see tho rock wall on the right—the one iny cave had pene trated—but I could form no idea of tho dis tance to the one on my left. We met several empty barges propelled by- oars and hand-worked wheels, and we overtook a nd passed several laden with coal. J At length I saw a light ahead, and when we .pproached it our men shipped oars and we anded at a little island upon which there was a small stone house. We went in, and I found that this was the abode of a fisherman and his wife, who kept a sort of inn or eating house for passing boatmen. I sat down with our leader to a stone table and partook most heartily of a meal whicli consisted of broiled fresh fish and wheaten bread. About tho time we were re-embarking, I was astonished to see a sailboat approaching from the north and passing on to the south. This spectacle reminded uie of the air which hpd circulated so freely through the caverns which had conducted me to this mysterious place. The sailing vessel was using oars as well as canvass in its opposition to the current, and made good headway. It was a curious spectacle indeed—this mov ing to and fro of boats in the darkness, this sober and diligent pushing of business and pursuits underground, and I wondered if these people lived entirely within the earth. Was it possible they had never seen the light of day? Far ahead at length I could distinguish many lights off to our left, and our boat was headed for that point. We came up to a large collec tion of craft that were stopped at a landing on the left bank of the river. Here there were a great many men busy in different ways. Some were carrying coal to the shore, which seemed to lie an artificial ledge, while others were loading slabs of marble on barges. There were several openings in the wall, into and out of which men were constantly passing. 1 saw several women also. This, I inferred, was a marble quarry, aud people lived here with their families. Meantime, I was an object of fear to some, and amazement to all who saw me; whilst on my part I was astonished to see that all these people, men and women, were of tl e same color and of the same commanding tyj o. No body seemed short. Nobody stooped. Nobody seemed ugly. Whilst we were standing still the current of the stream could be plainly discerned moving to tho north. We were soon under way again; and as we drifted on near the middle of tl.e river, which I judged to be about one hundred yards wide, 1 could sec the lights of landing places on ei ther side and busy forms and boats. 1 looked upward, and at times could see the ceiling or roof, but at others only darkness. And we saw many vessels; some overtook and passed us, and others met us. (If the latter some were empty and apparently returning for a cargo, but others carried bags and other things I could not distinguish. I conjectured these were supply boats carrying provisions. As we continued onward, I noticed that the air was gradually becoming colder. All the time n.y companion, the leader, man ifested the most intense, though respectful, curiosity about me. But, as our languages were totally different, we were dumb. We were anxious to question each other, and were dreadfully perplexed. He showed me a mirror of polished metal and we looked in it together, and he touched my face and hair, and then his own, and made many earnest signs. I could only guess at his meaning. I construed him as pointing out to me that my fair skin and light hair and beard appeared strange to him. Meanwhile we were constantly in motion. I was ever on the alert, for my curiosity was never so much excited, in all my experience, as on this occasion. I felt that the climax of my adventures was near. Aud it was. Before us I began to be conscious of a light appearance. It was far away and misty, it grew and grew until it became apparent to me the river was about to bring us into the light of day. Soon I could see the daylight and the outlines of the great arch over the mouth of the cave through which our river I stood up nervously and waited with inde scribable feelings for the denouement. Was I about to enter the mysterious inner ^Hadlfby a wonderful chain of circumstan ces been enabled to reach by an underground route a most interesting portion of the gioDe that was unapproachable by means of surface travel? . , CHAPTER XXX. We moved out into the light of day, and I gazed about me with dilating eyes and swelling heart. , We were near the middle of a stream about three hundred feet in width. On the right and left as far as the eye could reach, was a broken country interspersed with valleys, without trees, but with moss or some other green growth overspreading the surface. Flocks and herds were depasturing on the hills, attended by men. I turned my face to the southland the mouth of the cave out of which we had issued loomed up darkly like the entrance to »n enormous tunnel. Above the cave and to fhe right and left the country rose precipitously, and the view was terminated by snow clad mountains many miles away. These mountains covered the southern horizon, and stretched away to east and west like the wings of a vast crescent, in the distance I could see masses of ice wind ing down like rivers through the gulches to wards the valleye; and the cliffs anil pinnacles as far as my vision could reach, were lined witli myriads of birds, whilst multitudes of them wheeled and circled in the air in every direction. Many of them were the same in species as those I had met witli in Baffin’s Bay. To the north there was an open and inhabi ted country which evidently fell or sloped in the direction of the Pole, as the river moved in that direction. I seemed to lave entered into a great depression or basin. Where was I? I knew I had traveled nearly due north in iny long cave journey, and my present sur roundings could be accounted for in only one way. I had evidently found iny way by acci dent into the inner Polar region which, instead of being an ocean as many supposed, was a populated country. 1 hail passed under the mountains ami ice cliffs which had been im placable over the surface. Whilst the climate where I now found myself was not by any means a warm one, yet I was at a loss to see why the whole should not be bleak ami frigid 1 was profoundly affected by the mystery and the extraordinary termination of my wander ings underground, and I fell into a reverie, my thoughts ran thus: “I am cut off from my family and my coun try by ail impenetrable wall of ice. By chance I have found the key to the secret of the North Pole. I have unlocked the door and am about to solve the problem that has puzzled the na tions for centuries. But tile secret will die with me, I fear; for the Arctic wilds are so lit tle traveled it is not likely my unparalleled ex perience will be repeated in thousands of years; most probably never again. Indeed Arctic ex ploration is fraught with so many dangers, and so much suffering and loss of life, it seems most probable the problem will be abandbned by the entire world. “Doubtless a search has been or will be made for the missing Sir John Franklin and his men, but the discovery of their bleaching bones will only serve the more firmly to con vince the nations of the folly of future expedi tions. “So the world will conclude that all our par ty perished, aud I alone of ail the millions of men who have lived on the sun-lighted hemis phere of the eartn will die in possession of the great secret.” I had known always that there was about the North Pole an unexplored region of almost continental proportions, and I believed myself now to be the discoverer of a new world. CHAPTER XXXI. The river was very crooked. In some places it would run due east for many . miles, and then curving run due west. But its general course was north. At some points tho banks were low, and green slopes dotted with herds greeted the eye in every direction. But at others the stream had seemingly cut its way through ranges of hills, as bluffs arose on cilh- »r side. Each valley brought its stream or torrent to augment the river, and along the banks of these small streams were many low square stone houses. It was the shearing sea son, and the shepherds were busy clipping the fleeces of their flocks. We saw a great many boats laden with wool. Also barges of coal; also marble and other building stone. These laden vessels were voyaging iike ourselves to the north. At all points where our north-rn prospect was uuob.-uuLLoJ I coal.l ZCC a I • - rang ■ mountains lying apparently across the track we had to pursue. We were gradually ap proaching these highlands. When we first issued from the cave the sun was not visible to us, being to the soil'll and shut off from us by the high mountains first men tioned; but we could see his yellow light shin ing upon tiie hills and valleys down the river, arid in due course he swung round to the west appearing low on the horizon. As lie made his slow circuit around us, it wait gratifying indeed to gaze upon his fa;e again. As we got further and further down into t.he basin he was always visible except when ob scured by passing clouds. 1 had occasion in this voyage to exhibit to my new friend and ids wonderful boatmen, the use of my gun. Water fowl were abund ant, and I shot as many of them as we nee led for food. But the leader of our party was by no means dependant upon me, for lie was an excellent archer. When we were hungry and needed rest we stopped and cooked our meals and slept on the shore. At length, when we came near to the low mountains before mentioned, we entered a lake from the cast; the highlands constituted its northern shore, and it widened to the west ward and extended further tban the eye could reach. We kept on our voyage near the south ern shore until we came to a considerable town. The houses were all built of stone and many of them were two-stories high. The lake or river in front of the place was laden with wa ter era t of various descriptions and the wharves were crowded with people. Ihey seemed all alike in color and general appearance, and their physical development and comeliness were marvellous. 1 positively could see no man or woman that looked ugly or unsightly. I was much embarrassed by the undisguised amazement with which the people regarded me; and our leader, who was evidently a man of breeding, took me under his special protec tion. As we landed and walked up into the town tiie mu'titude followed ana ^ crowded about me and questioned my guide incessant ly. lie explained, but their mystification was only increased. 1 could understand but few words that lie said, but I could see that they were wondering what sort of being it could be that had come up out of the bowels of the earth. If I had dropt out of the skies, I could not have been an object of greater curiosity, and during all my travels in this new land, such was my unvaried experience. CHAPTER XXXII. Going about with my kind patron from place to place, I soon inferred he was on a mercan tile mission. The town seemed a sort of cen tre of the wool trade, and he was engaged in buying it in great quantities. He took room for us both at a public house and furnished me clothing that, though plain, accorded witli tiie fashion of tiie people we were among, and when I had been shorn of my superflous hair, he seemed pleased with the change in my appearance; but I was exceed ingly awkward in iny new garb. Alasl I had lived like a savage so long, it was not entire ly easy to take on at once the manners of civ ilized people again. The mass of people at this place were fisher men, hunters, sheep and cattle growers and merchants; and there were many transient men seeking for work as herdsmen, miners, quarriers, etc. Tnere were also a good many who resiiled further in the interior; some tradesmen like my guide, and some as 1 thought traveling for amusement, and their dress and polished manners excited my curiosity greatly. I am constantly tempted to enter into the details of things. I feel a desire all the time when holding my pen, to describe minute y the scenery that surrounded me, the houses of the people and their habits, tiie climate, and the flora and fauna. But if I succumb to this temptation, my narrative whilst it might be useful to the naturalist or geogra pher, would be prosy to general readers. lam therefore resolved to write down on these pages the more important of my adventures, and reserve for a future separate and special work, so far as I may be able tj ascertain them, the natural phenomena of the North l’olar country. [to be continued.] CHAT. Musa Dunn asks our opinion upon the “Eight of Asia”—a dillicult thing to give if one craves originality of expression, as so many brilliant criticisms viewing the poem in every light have been written. You remember Goethe’s rule of criticism—a rule that I take for a guide: “Before passing judgment on a book, a work of art, a scheme, a doctrine, or a person, first give yourself up to a sympathetic appreciation of them.” The book is a work of beauty and the great doc trine of Carlylo and < loethc is seen throughout Prince Siddartha’s biography—seni historical, semi-legendary. His life was never more graphically pictured than by Edwin Arnold, who portrays to us in the Lord of Buddha, a being whose whole ex istence was marked with a tenderness of feel ing, a compassionate pity, a love for all things created. As an illustration of tho “quality of mercy” that reposed in Gautama’s bosom, the author lias related with pleasing effect the in cident of the waunded wild swan. Again, in another passage, to show us the Prince’s sym pathy with human suffering, Arnold tells us of a ramble he took with his father, the king, to a land of life and beauty, where "the tinkle of the rippling water rang, and where it ran the glad earth broiiered it with balsams and spears of lemon-grass.” But life fed on life even here where all seemed fair. Siddartha expocted a land of love and beauty; he found clouds and shadows. At the poet’s touch we see Yasodhara, a lovely being ani queen of Visliramvan, the pleasure home of the Prince. From the midst of the rush and roar of our restless lives we enter into this Place of Beauty and tranquil still ness—a perfect paradise, and the rest, the re creation, are pleasing to our tired senses. Here “Life glides beguiled, like a smooth stream, Banked by perpetual flowers.” All the resources of the author's art are used in describing the effeminate and indulgen ces of young Gautama to present greater con trast when in the later lonely years he was pre paring to receive the holy anointing as a chosen prophet. With touching simplicity he tells of Gauta- ta's renunciation of honor, wealth, fame, pleasure, love, that he might del ver his race, lie was— “One not tired with life’s long day, but glad P the freshness of its morning,” yet all was sacrificed that he might save his people. Edwin Arnold’s descriptive powers are line, the story is var d, full of pathos aud lofty aspirations, and the interest with whicli it is read never flags. But remember <>. W. Holmes’ criticism when he compared tie work to the falls of Niagara; we can no long: r wonder at its grandeur and beauty of though?, character or plot when we remember that ilitddhism—the inspiration of tiie poeiu—is a religion of “so mai.y millions and so nicy, ..'“' ds -' How to Regain One’*- Patience, Hav ing Lost it. Gooc. Advice, and Cheery Word? lor All. Dear Household: S»m< of you—I hope all of you—may be interested in the heat I got into, and the way 1 got out of it, and so I’m just soing to “fuss up," and trust some poor Li red little woman to prolit by my experience. I had a dress—I often do have a dress, but this one was an extra pretty muslin, and of course I wanted it to look extra nice. So, af ter consulting my finances, and acknowledging the necessity of making it myself, I solemnly interviewed a magazine, and set about the task with the best grace possible—said grace not being anything to brag of, for nature never endowed me with the patience of Job, the wis dom of Solomon, or the tas’.e of Worth. Moreover, I am one of those unfortunate indi viduals so constructed that when I play, I play altogether, when I work, I work most decid- eily, and I have an idea if the contract of cre ating a new world were awarded me I should go about the business in the middle—making man first, the earth and air for his use after ward—and complete, or try to complete the job in much less than six days. However, the manufacturing of this dress proceeded quite creditably, the skirt hung nicely, the waist sat perfectly, the fifty yards (more or less), com posing the back drapery fell into folds natur ally, but when—about the middle of a sultry, breathless afternoon—I attempted the scien tific draping of the from I stall ’d helplessly, hopelessly, and horribly. In vain I threaded new needles, stuck my mouth full of pins, gathered, pleated, and basted! This way I jerked, that, way 1 pulled, tucked it up here, tucked it down there, perspiration stood out upon my noble neck, frowns contracted my classic brows, and I deiant'y remarked to that irate individual—myself—“you needn't say a word, I’ll fix it or die!" Strange to sav, 1 lived, and I didn't fix it either—there! Tired out ami exhausted, coming to the end of my strength, the final of my hope, the bottom drop of my patience, I was about to succumb to the desire to burn tin entire fabrication, when I remembt red somebody said “when you are mad pause to count a hundred.’’ The “mad" was certainly there, and so I paused; dir. ctly I grasped five desperate fingers with five desperate others, and I began to count. When I got along into the twenties, I wasn’t so hurried; up in the forties I rather liked the performance; iti the vicinity of seventy I found myse f listening to a bird song in the green trees out-side, and by the time i had absently skipped a few, and reached a hundred I was as meek as a sheep, and like the wise and gentle creature I am not—but might be if proper influences were brought to bear—I quietly folded away my work, put on my old hat, and walked out to a region where the air is cool, the shade is deep, and unJraped muslins can not enter. You will hardly believe me, per haps, but the next morning, rested, restored, refreshed I took up iny dress with cool fin gers, gave it a few calm touches, and lo! the drapery dropped into position as gracefully as if I was a titled mummy about to be presented at the drawing-room of (pieen Victoria. ’ Twas not my taste, my skill, nor the counting of an hundred—though that brought me to my sen ses—but ’twas laying aside v’ork, the heat and tho burden, till tired nature was humored, when the task became easy a mere matter of nothing. Try it, some of you weary, vexed, overworked souls, and then arise and call me blessed—I deserve it. Now, Veritas, Big Four, Ira .Jones, harnier Willie and all the rest of you masculines, we are done with the dress subject, you can throw away your cigars and come in. Says Italie, “let us discuss books, and many agreed with her, and yet when I humbly asked the Household’s opinion of I he Light of Asia,” stony silence rewards me, and my feelings are much lacerated. 1 ear 1 nncess, comfort me—I know you have the magic P °Littie Bess, your letter was most enjoyable, write again. , . T How long, O Dew Drop, how long am I to sigh for your return? ’ Goldie Ashburn, ’twas generous of you to desire a seat by me. Snuggle up close, now, and tell us some more about Austin our fair capital city. My first home in Texas was there, and a dear friend of mine sleeps sweetly in your beautiful cemetery. Rural Widow, why so long away, and where, • >, where is Kit? Don’t ask “Am I my broth er’s keeper?” lie is not your brother. Mother Hubbard, please don’t get into the habit of beheading us by omitting the “Chats” —p ease don’t! If you’ll favor us I’ll promise to hold my tongue for a month—beginning now. Yours truly, Mrs. Dunn. Waxahachie, Texas. With Laughing June, Cornflower Comes to Us Again. June is with us again; the year is in its maidenhood—a sweet, shy maiden, whose “golden tresses outshine the sun,” whose blue eyes gladden all the world with their light of hope and love. She stands “with reluctant feet where the brook and river meet,” unwil ling to leave tho tender joyousness of spring, yet wondering what futurity will bring. Will the sun caress her as fondly and the soft breeze woo her as gently? Will the crown of maturi ty set more peacefully upon her “gold locks” than the garland of young blossoms now en twined among them? O, dune! Thou art, in deed, a “smile of God”—the sweetest, happiest month of all the year. The Household looks very inviting this bright morning and I can’t resist the inclination to walk in and stay awhile. I have brouflit, no carefully prepared essay on some ponderous subject to read before an admiring (?) audi ence, just want to chat a hit with some friends, quite in an undertone so at not to disturb the debatt rs. Sigma is nearest the door so will pause a minute to extend my hand in welcome and to tell him that he ha. my warmest sympathy. I do nut blame you, Sigma, for being somewhat of a cynic. I have often been tempted to be come one myself. Have even donned the ob noxious green goggles; but they were gently removed by kind hands and my faitli restored in human kind by tiie few blessed beings whose mission I think it must be to do such charita ble work. There is so much deceit, so much unfaithfulness, so much untruth in the world that sometimes we involuntarily exclaim, “there is no faith, no honesty in man.” But a few kindly touches of tender fingers, some loving words of balm poured on the bruised heart—a friend in need, and the work of resto- rai ion is done. Musa Dunn, you are one of those happy be ings whom God created for tiie especial pur pose of making sunshine in this gloomy old world. You have always been one of iny favorites though I refrained from telling you so before; indeed, I have never named any of my preferences because (I suppose ’tis a very foolish reason) I feared you would think I sought for praise by giving it, and I am no worshipper at Flattery’s shrine. Veritas, your words of appreciation are highly valued, and nothing would give mo more pleasure were it possible for me to write privately to you and to receive your kind, in teresting missives in return. But I have been afflicted some time with such weak eyes that it is impossible to use them in any way that will strain them in tiie least; I am merely dic tating this letter—a dear little friend is my amanuensis, and writes down my thoughts in her neat, quaint way. “Primrose ’ is my pel name for lier. What, a useful, busy life most of you lead, dear friends; how utterly useless mine seems in comparison. To sit witli folded hands, day by day, and watch other lives so full of work, to receive blessings from loved ones, to do nothing in return! Ah! what a drone I some times feel! What a nonentity my life seems; hut it is the lot ol some to Ot (tr and not :o >i /• I see Pandora in the corner there trying to j “get up” a flirtation with Hemlock. So, as 1 have a gentle reproof to administer, anyhow, will interfere before any mischief is done. CoitNFLOWF.lt. State Line, Miss. What was Haggard’s Object in Writ ing “She?”—Comments Upon By ron, and a Plea for Babies. Many months—little ripples—have glided away on tho river of time, since my heart has been warmed by the dear homeliue atmos phere of cur Household, and so utterly changed do I feel since those “lost yesterdays” that it seems incongruous to present myself under my old nom. It is only a momento if a page of my life—a leaf that is turned; are those pages fair as they might have been? Ah! how important that our erring fingers he guided by the gentle hand of our blessed elder brothers, in writing the pages of our lives for eternity! llow deeply fraught is each moment with tiie responsibility of living! And, oh, that dangerous boat called Drilling, with Iiulifferentisui at the helm, slowly, surely drift- into the whirlpools of destruction. China, will you shake hands with me, I’m full of enthusiasm for the W. C. T. U. It is a gloriou. cause; my whole heart is in it. a How many of our band are soldiers of the white ribbon, i wonder? Soon this vile erup tion on the bosom of our loved America shall be made “white as snow,’ for our dear Savior is ill • captain of this grand crusade, this mighty revolution. . , N. It. II , I do love you. Platonic love is my greatest hobby—hut I must ent get started on that. The Princess kindly admonishes mo to dis- (by-the-way, I have a Princess in my arms right now, she is four months old,) card “un healthy Byron.” Dear Princess, that once cherished, much-marked old copy of Byron that 111 the Ian / syne always greeted your eyes when their gaze chanced to lest upon the do mains of a humble maid now his in pitiful neg lect cobwebs and dus'. ou an old shelf in a corner of my room. But yet, there’s a tender spot in my heart for that worshipped ideal of ??*y young girlhooa’s dreams, which I cieatcd and hold in an intoxicating realm of romance and poetry. But though, with me “old things have passed away', ami all things iiave become new,” I still believe that Byron is one of the grandest poets that ever lived. All his mighty genius lacked was the bright light of Christ ianity. Speaking of the little queen of our home kingdom, reminds me of something I would like to tell the young mothers of our House hold. Do give your helpless little ones wattr often. They suffer for it sometimes. Wont s line of you please tell me what the author’s object was in writing that novel, “She?’’ or, rather, what is the point? When are wo again to hear the flutter of “White Wings,” 1 wonder? Mam of Aniks*. Jesup, Ga. One of Our Clios Enters a Protest. I was busy painting this morning when the postman’s whistle sounded at the front gale. Instantly I sent uiy youngest brother out, at a speed that Maud S. might have envied, to bring to me that always welcome visitor, tire Sunny South. As usual, I opened at the Household, and was so surprised to see my name attached to a certain article that I wondered if I was my self or myself somebody else; but after ponder ing this weighty subject, I came to the sad con clusion that there is some other Clio in this world besides myself. Not that this new “Richard in the field” may he an improvement on the old one (for her letter was indeed ex cellent), but human nature is human nature; and we, you know, of the gentle persuasion, do not like our name encroached upon, though we do not sometimes object to having them changed. But seriously, Mother Hubbard, I “begged admittance” (if you will allow the expression) when Mrs. Bryan, of blessed memory, guided our Southern' Household. But if this other Clio can, like Haggard’s “She,” go back to fos- siliferouseraof the Sunny South (no disrespect intended) and prove that it is her name by right, then this one will bow to the inevitable and take unto herself a “copyrighted” name that shall never more be doubted. Yes, it was horrible to think of your going boating ou Sunday—so horrible I sighed and wished that I might have been with you as you floated down the tide, hearing sweeter sermons of God’s love from mother N attire than perhaps you might have heard from some of her chil dren who have so learned grown. ? fften I have felt wearily sick and sou!-hungry after hearing a sermon which had as much religion In it as a Buddhist priest, who had any ideas of morality, could have preached. Will you not agree? with me that it is a pity we cannot have a first class earthquake to stir up our Household?—for, like widow Bedott g hw band, wo arc “a wonderful hand to moral ize,” while from a Mutual Admiration Society we have degenerated into a Mutual Indifferent one, and of the two evils I prefer the first. Now, Mother Hubbard, I know the House holders will forgive me for chatting so long with you, as this may be the last time she may be able to appear as Cuo. Montgomery, Ala. A Lady in California Writes of the preparatory treatment fjr pro spective mothers, by Dr. Stamback Wilson of this city: “I would not miss knowing what I do of its virtues for worlds.” Address him, Atlanta, Ga., for particulars. Tho Rebellion Collapsing. Fuii.t .f ine 27.—It is reported that the re bellion against the ameer in Afghanistan is collapsing, and that the Chilzaris are returning to their homes. Punishing a Duoiist. London dune 27.—The archbishop of Co logne has excommunicated Baron Solemachcr for challenging Baron Schorlemer to light a duel. ^ ^ Cold and Silver Civen. London, June 27.—'The queen, in commem oration of her jubilee, gave gold medals to her royal visitors, ami silver medals to their at tendants. Favorable to Pasteur. London, June 27.—The royal commission appointed to inquire into the Pasteur system has completed its report, whicD, in the main, is favorable. Tho Alabama Music Teachers. Montgomery, Ala., June 27.—The Alabama Music Teachers' Association, organized here to-day by the election of Professor E. E. Ayres, of Marion, president; Professor E. L. Meranam, Montgomery, recording secretary; Mrs. J. A. Olin, corresponding secretary; F. II. Bunlie, treasurer. Public Schools in Covington. Covington, Ga., June 27.—The question of establishing by local taxation a public school for our city is being agitated at this time, and a meeting of the citizens was hell to-day to consider the matter. As the establishment of the school will largely depend on the question as to whether or not the city can secure the use of th3 buildings of the Georgia Methodist Female college, the only action taken to-day was to appoint a committee to confer with the trustees of that institution witli a view to as certaining whether ihe North Georgia confer ence (which controls the institution) would grant to the city tiie use of the college build ings in the event that a public school should be established. It seems that a large majority of our citizens favor the establishment of the school. Ovid’s Tomb Discovered. London, June 27.—ft is announced that Ovid’s tomb has been discovered. The loca tion is at Anadolkioi, near Kustendami. The stme marking the tomb represents Ovid’s arri val at the island of Tani, when he was ban ished thither by Augustus, A. D. s, an account of the poet's intrigue with the emperor’s daugh ter Julia, aud Apollo’s reception of him. Ovid’s Isle is a few miles from Kustendami. TIIE FIDELITY BANK. The Effort to Cet at ths Bottom of a Rotten Institution. Cisi inna 11, June 27 —The affairs of the Fi delity National Bank are very quiet to day. Comptroller Trenliolin is not to be seen, hav ing withdrawn to enable him to attend to the mass of business sent from Washington. From tiie district attorney’s office it is stated that David Armstrong, of Jackson, Ohio, has been selected for receiver of Hie Fidelity Bank. He is in the city awaiting tiie execution and ap proval of his ruid, before taking possession. Armstrong isVuw cashier ot me Fust National Bank at Jackson, a bank doing business with a capital of .?5D,oi)0. WANTS A BETTER SEAT, A North Carolina Colored Preacher Complains of the Ceorgia Road. Washington, June 27.—W. II. Heard, col ored pastor of the Ml. /ion M. E. Church, of Charlotte, N. C., complains to tho inter-state commerce commission that he and several members of his congregation, having pur chased tirst-class tickets over the Georgia rail road from Atlanta to Charleston, were forbid den entry to the first-class coaches, and com pelled to ride in a dirty and uncomfortable car, one-half of which was the smoking car. SALVATION IN AUGUSTA. The Factory District Crowdod with Salvation Soldiers. Augusta, Gy., June 2?i.—It seems that the whole of the Salvation Army recently station ed in Atlanta have moved their quarters to Augusta, at West End, or factory district, seems completely flooded with them. For the past three or four days they have been holding very enthusiastic meetings nightly, and have converted quite a number of factory opera tives. They surprised the citizens yesterday by having a baptism in the river and at TJo o’clock fully five thousand people congregated on the river bank, at tiie mou: h of Hawk’s guliy, to witness tiie baptism. Fjrty-threc were baptized. Tuo strange part about tiie performance was that when those who had been baptised were carried to tiie bank, they were greeted with cheers and waving of liaad- kerckiefs by numbers of the army on the bank. The Town of Pullman Burned. Portland, Oregon, June 27.—A tire yester day destroyed the business portion of tiie town of Pullman, W. T. The loss is from >=7.5,000 to §80,000. The insurance is about two-thirds that amount. The principal losers are McCon nell, Chambers & Co., general merchants, §•!,- 000—insurance for >2.000; Ellsworth a De- plege, druggists, and Cochran & Fan, general merchants. —There is in Alaska a glacier -5,000 feet wide •and 700 feet deep, which moves into Glacier Bay at the speed of forty fett a day, bringing each 21 hours 140,000,000 cubic feet of ice. A Boy’s Estimate of His Mother’s Work. “My mother gets me up, builds the tire, gets my breakfast and sends me off.” “What then?” asked the reporter. “Then she gets my fattier up ami gets his breakfast, and sends him off, then she gets the other children their breakfast aud sends them to school, and then she and the baby have their breakfast.” “How old is the baby?” “ J, she is most two, but she can walk aud talk as well as any of us.” “Are you well paid?” “I get $2 a week; father gets *2 a day.” “How much does your mother get?” With a bewildered look the boy said: “Mother! Why she don’t work for any body.” “I thought you said she worked for all of you?” “O, yes, she does; but there ain’t no money in it.” “Nip’t in tho Bud!” Sad to say, many a good thing attains to nothing more than a fair beginning. On the other hand it is a matter for congratulation that the growth of some evil things may be al so promptly frustrated. A large proportion of the cases of the most wide-spread and fatal of disease—consumption have their inception in nasal catarrh. l)r. Sage’s Catarrh Remedy is pleasant, soothing effectual. Try it. It has cured thousands. All druggists. What Kills Americans. Fast Living-Beckless Eating-Hard Drinking-Poor Sleeping -Social Jealousy -Political Ambition —Violent Passions—The Bace for Money. The alarming disease of this country is nervous debility and prostration, a* It £oes under many names but it is essen tially the Fame complaint Hospitals and private institu* tions for nervous patients am <towded. The average of lifa in the United States is do* creasing every year. Sudden deaths from nervous collapsa among our business, profess ional and public men are so frequent ns scarcely to excito remark. The majority of sui cides, committed, without ap parent reason, or under so-called “depression of spirits,” am really prompted by nervous prostration, which is a fruitful source of insanity ami crims wi tli all tl ieir grief and horror. • These facts are startling. They threaten the very life of the nation. They assail tha springs of its power and pros perity. They wreck manhood’* strength ami woman’s useful ness and beauty. Every one should know tha causes. What are they? The anstver is easy and terribly plain: Our vicious personal habits; our careless andlawlesa eating and drinking; the in tense mental and physical strain arising from our mad race after money, position and intiuence; the fears and struggles of pov erty; the use of narcotics and stimulants; our fashion of turning day into night and night into day; and, briefly, our . desperate willingness to pay any price for an hour’s pleasure or success. So we burn life’s candle at both “nds ami till the lunatic asylum* ami the graveyards. . The disease from which we suffer and die is, in plain Eng lish, Nervous Dyspepsia, as it is seated in the Kerves and in the organs of Digestion, Assim ilation and Nutrition. Healthy digestion being impeded or des troyed, the whole body, nerves included, is literally starved; even when there is no emaci ation to tell the sad story. Nervous .prostration sends out iis warnings:—headache in the morning; a persistent dull heaviness or aching at the base of the brain; wakefulness; loss of appetite and disgust with f< >od; i< ?ss of mental energy ami interest in ordinary duties and business; restlessness and anx iety without any assignable r e a son; eructations; bad breath; foul mucous on the teeth; occasional ejddiness; palpitation of the heart; sal- lowness of the shin; coated tongue and gradual failure of strength and ambition. The remedy is a total aban donment of the habits and cus- • toms which cause the disease in each individual case, and the use of Soaker Extract of Hoots (Seitrel s Syrup) to cure the mischief already done. This great remedy, prepared by the Shaker Community of Mt. Leb anon, N. ^ ., is especially adapt ed to eradicate Nervous Dys pepsia. To do this it acts directly and gently but power fully upon the disordered stom ach, liver and kidneys, restor ing their tone and vigor, pro moting the secretion of bile, ex pelling waste matters from the system,and purifying the blood. Upon the nervous system Shaker ExtracifSeigel’s Syrup) acts as a safe and wholesome anodvne without the slightest narcotic effect, and then leaves the nerves to regain their nat ural tone ami strength through its wonderful influence upon the function of nutrition. It is safe to say more nerv ous dyspeptics leave been re stored by it from the depths of misery to a fresh enjoyment of life and labor than by any or all other forms of treatment combined PLAIN HOME TALKS BY DE. E. B. FOOTE. For three new subscribers \ve will send a copy of Dr. Foote’s l’lain Home Talks about the human system, the habits of men and women, the cause and prevention of disease, our sextual relations and social natures, embracing medical common sense applied to causes, prevention and cure of chronic diseases, the natural relation of men and women to eaclt other; society^ love, marriage, parentage, &c., embellished with 200 illustrations. The book contains (•,( V pages, handsomely bound in cloth and
