Newspaper Page Text
-fy; .
Cedartown Advertiser.
Published etery Thursday by 3D. 33. FREE31AN.
Terms: Sl-50 per annum, in advance.
OLD SERIES-VOL. VII-NO. 5.
CEDARTOWN, GA., APRIL 15, 1880.
NEW SERIES—VOL. II-NO. 18.
REQUIEM OF LOVE.
Bring withered Autumn leaves,
Call everything that grieves.
An 1 build a funeral pyre above his head!
Heap there all golden promise that deceives
Beauty that wins the heart, and the bereaves,
For love is dead.
Not slowly did he die.
A meteor from the sky
Falls not so swiftly as his spirit lied.
When, with regretful, half averted eye,
He gave one little smile, one little sigh.
And so wad sped.
-But O, not. yet, not yet
Would my lost soul forget
How^beautifnl he wrb while he did live,
Or, when his eyes were dewy and lips wet,
What kisses, tenderer than all regret,
My love would give.
Strew roses on his breast,
He loved the roses best,
He never cared for lilies or for snow.
Let be this bitter end of his sweet quest;
Let be the pallid silence that is rest—
And let all go!
What John Found.
Recess whs nearly over. The boys and
girls were gathered in the play-ground out
side of the lo£ schoolhouse, but no play
was going on. Most of the boys had their
books in their hands, and were poring over
them as if to make up for all the idle time
of their lives; while the girls sat on the
wood-pile whispering, and looking at the
boys with a kind af awe.
The schoolhouse was built just outside
of a mountain villiage iu North Carolina.
The bqys were dressed in butternut or blue
cloth, the erirls m a kind of linsey, all of
which their mothers had spun and woven.
Outside of the fence was a gang of little
negroes, whom the white children ordered
about with an ait* of authority; There was
a row of shiny black faces at the top of
the fence.
“Gorry! look at mas’ Will! I tink he
get iti”
- “P'shaw! g’long, you Victory . our Mas’
Bob’s twlc’t as good a scholar. See how
he pokin’ into dat book! ”
The others volunteered no opinion but
shouted,—“Hooray! which ob you a-gwine
. to be the spjer? Mas’ Bob Sevier he gwinfe!
•Cunriel BolrtSevief! Hooray !
Never had there been such a day known
in Uncle Job’s school. Bob Sevier, a fair
thin boy with round blue eyes, sat on the
steps turning over the leaves of his Histor-
ate tiacrie. He knew every word and line;
but he turned leat after leaf with his cold
shaking fingers.
When the little negroes shouted for
“Cunnel Bob,” he felt a lump in his throat,
choking him. If he should not win ! Bob
had al ways been head boy in the school,
but during the last month he had worked
harder than ever: The cause was this:
Judge Peters, who was now Congress
man from that district, had paid a visit to
the villiage a few weeks betore, and had
dropped into the school one morning and
made the boys a little speech.
“1 was a pupil here,” he said, “There
is the very desk at which I sat. Undle Job
taught me pretty much all I know. My
father could not afford to send me to college,
and 1 am sure neither can your fathers af
ford to seud you there. But I want to give
some boy here a chance such as 1 did not
have. I have the appointment of a cadet
to West Pomt k and I propose inste ad of
giving it to some rich man’s 3on, that the
boy in this school who passes the best ex
amination a month from now shall have
it.”
Tliis was the speech. It had made the
boys as wild as if he had put fire into their
brains. Not a boy there who did not see
himself a colonel in full regimentals, pre
ceded by a brass band, riding up the streets
of the villiage in triumph.
They fell to studying, most of them for
they were born in the idles, laziest quarter
of the United States. They never had done
anything but lounge about the grassy street
of the sunny, hilly highland hamlet, lis
tening to the intemenable stories of the
hunters who came in with peltry, or play
ing “Sixty-out,” with little negroes
John Fremoy, the shabbiest of them all,
sat apart from the other boys, with his sis
ter Louisa.
“Now, Lou, just hear me tliis page;”
and he began,—
“Charlemagne, otherwise Charles the
Great, was the son of Pepin the Short, the
first qf the Carlovingian—Carlovingian’—
oh, #hat comes next ?”
‘ ‘Dynasty, ” prompted Lou.
‘‘And wliat’s the meaning of ‘dynasty’
I’d like to know ? Such rubbish! 1 don’t
understand a word of it! There’s no use to
try, Lou!”
Lou's eyes filled, and the teart rolled
down her flashed cheeks; but John only
shut his jaws a little firmer, and fixed his
dark eyes on the ground. They were honest,
kind eyes, but dull; very different from
Bob Sevier’s, which glowed like lamp9.
“I might as well give up, Lou. Uncle
Job says patience and hard work will take
any boy through. But there’s a difference
in boys. Now Bob Sevier don’t work half
as hard over his books as I do; but just
took at him! I reckon he could go over the
Carlovingians or any other Vingians like a
trottin* horse.”
hush. Uncle Job was going to give his
j decision.
; The little negroes crowded up the school-
house steps. Lou stood up and threw her
calicj sun-bonnet off her head. She did
not know wliat she did. She was stifling
with sudden, terrible heat.
Her strained eyes were on the door.
Presently she heard Uncle Job’s voice, in
a few brief words. But sbe could not
catch him. They sounded to her like
“John has won. John Fremoy.”
Suddenly there was a cheer inside. Then
the negroes took it up. “Bob Sevier!
Cunnel Bob! Hooray for Bob!”
Lou sat down and covered her face with
her hands. Her brother came to her in a
moment.
‘Get up and come along home! he said,
oughly.
She caught his arm and patted it. “Don’l
you mind it, Johnny,” she said. “You
kin do lots of things Bob Sevier knows
nothin’ about!” she ciied, fiercely.
“No, Bob won it fair,” he said sturdily.
I’m a dunce; I did’ut deserve it; that’s
the worst of it! ”
His face was colorless, even to the lips,
but he showed his disappointment in no
other way.
Judge Peters came to the village the next
day, heard the report of the examination,
sent for Sevier, and promised him the ap
pointment. He then went out to a farm
which he owned near to Caleb Fremoy’s,
John’s uncle.
The boy crept over, towards night, to
catch a glimpse of the great man who might
have made him happy for lite, but bad not
done it. He hung miserably about the
place, Hntil evening, and then set out home
ward.
Coming to the edge of Creggy Creek just
where it turns from the mountain, he sat
down on the bank, and put liis hot feet
in the water. To-morrow he was to be
set to plowing with the negroes.
“It’s all yer fit for,” his uncle said.
*You’d a a chance for West Point, and ye
didn’t take it. So you kin kennel with
the darkeys for the rest of yer life. I’ll
feed you no more. ”
John sat moodily flinging pebbles into
the water until the dusk came on, and an
owl began hoot.
Suddenly the boy stood up, trembling
with excitement, holding a stone in his
hand up to the fast fading light. It shone
with a brilliant lustre, like a great drop of
dew in the morning sun. As he moved it,
it flashed, a blood-red star, in his dirty
John had heard of the ruby which
had once been found in the next gorge.
‘It was worth thousands of dollars! ” he
sobbed rather than spoke. “1 heard Judge
Peters tell my uncle there was corundum
on his farm, and a ruby is a kind of corun
dum. I am rich for life!”
He sat down, breathless, carefully rub
bing the brilliant lump in his hand, as
Aladdin might have done liis lamp. What
was West Point to this? Money, beautiful
houses, a glimpse of the world, an easy,
happy life for himself and Lou!
‘ ‘Poor Lou! I was so cross to her to-day!
I’ll go and tell her.”
Then he stopped as if Bomebody had
struck him. The ruby was not his. He
was on Judge Peters’ land.
The boy sat down again, and for one
whole fipur the tempter §trove with him.
If there was one quality strong and dom
inant in John Fremoy, it was his honesty.
But this was a temptation such as seldom
comes in the way of any man
The next morning Judge Peters was
mounting his horse to go into the village,
when a boy came across the yard. He
walked quickly, as if driven by some fores
behind. The judge waited, one foot in the
stirrup.
As long as John Fremoy lived, he re
membered, like a sudden, terrible picture,
the glariug light on the little muddy yard,
the staring negro boy holding the horse,
the portly, kind-looking man waiting his
approach.
Treed by Wolves.
Wolves have been unusually plenty in
portions of Elk and McKean counties, Pa.
for some months, and many farmers have
lost large numbers of sheep from these bold
intruders. Heavy rewards were offered in
some instances for the destruction of the
animals and many exciting adventures are
reported by those who engaged in the
search. In a wild part of Elk county it is
reported that a pack had repeatedly fol
lowed a stage and the inhabitants were
kept in a constant state of alarm for fear
of being attacked at night by the ravenous
beasts. Richard Davidson and Porter
binith, of Jeisey Shore, stimulated partly
by the large reward and partly by a spirit
of adventure, started cut on a grand wolf
hunt recently. They proceeded to Elk
county by rail, accompanied by a boy
about fourteen years of age, who insisted
on going along. Leaving the Cara at St.
Mary’s they proceeded to the haunts of the
wolves in the wilderness, where they had
been attracted by the carcass of an ox
which had died some days before. They
traveled in a light wagon, drawn by two
horses of little value, so that in case of
disaster the loss would not be heavy.
They had abundance of ammunition, two
double-barreled rifles, provisions, ropes,
axes, etc. Within a short distance of the
hunting ground was an old deserted stable,
which had been used by a crew of lumber
men. The horses and wagon were left
there in custody of the boy when they
started for the hunting ground, each carry
ing a pine board about sixteen feet long,
for the purpose of putting up a platform.
They found two small trees, about twelve
feet apart, where they erected a platform
with the plank and rope about fifteen feet
above the ground, and to each tree they
fastened ropes to assist them up and down.
They then started in search of the wolves,
leaving their guns on the platform, cau
tiously watching each step of the way.
Their pockets were filled with assafeetida,
in order that the wolves might scent them.
They had gone but a short distance when
the wolves made their appearance, and
they immediately retreated and ascended
the platform, when the wolves were at the
base of the trees in a few' minutes. They
selected four of the pack and shot them at
once, when to their discomfiture, they dis
covered that through an oversight they had
left the ammunition at the stable, and they
were without powder or ball, i he pros
pect was not cheering. Night was coming
on and the cold was severe. They had but
little room on the platform to movearo ind,
and at the foot of the trees a drove of
wolves, which their imagination magnified
into almost a legion, were making night
hideous with their bowlings and jumping
up half way to the platform. They secured
themselves to the boards and trees by
means of ropes, so that if overcome for
want of sleep they might not fall if they
should lose their balance. Davidson threw
a small piece of meat, strongly seasoned
with strychnine, among them, and soon
had the satisfaction of seeing one of the
number struggling in the agonies of death.
Soon after dark the pack was reinforced
by three more hungry-looking devils, which
had been attracted by the howlings. The
night was spent on the platform and it was
a night of terror, made all the gloomier by
the yells of the infuriated beasts, mad-
deued by their ineffectual attempts to reach
the scaffold. Some time in the night a
portion of them left and the sharp crack of
a revolver w r as proof that the boy’s place of
refuge had been discovered. About sun
rise the remainder departed in the direc
tion of the carcass of the ox. Satisfied that
they might nsk coming downs, Smith con
cluded that he would descend and seek the
boy, who had been left in charge of the
horses, while Davidson would prepare
breakfast. They accordingly came down,
and soon a roaring fire was kindled at the
boot of a large tree. Smith proceeded in
the direction of the stable in quest of the
boy and team. A few rods from liis place
- T 1 , , T •, . of destination he found a large wolf lying
dead, having been shot by the toy, who
on their arrival there, was found perched
The Bycicle. “Oh, I won’t”
j So we started deliberately around the
‘•Place the machine in front of you this j ball, I pumping away solemnly with my
way,” says the Professor. “Hold a handle! feet, while he walked rapidly by my side,
in each hand, put your left foot on this | holding the untamed steed and keeping it
Soft Soap.
little projection behind, shove the bycicle
ahead and then stand on your left foot,
letting the maclr'ne run till it stops.”
“Then I won’t begin saddle riding at
first?"
“How much accident insurance do you
carry?”
“None.”
“Well, then, I wouldn’t if 1 were you.
I’d approach the saddle gradually.” 'i
I placed both hands as directed: put my
feet on the projection; shoved gently ahead
with the other foot and then stood up.
The recollection 1 have of this incidentis
that the numerous windows of the* hall
made a sort of rapid torchlight procession
around me and then the lion and the lamb
lay down together.
“Ah, that was first-rate for a beginning*”
said the Professor, as he picked up the bi
cycle while I dusted myself off. a
“Oh, that was a good start, was it?^
inquired.
“Yes: you kept on top. Now, many fel
lows let the machine tumble on them.
Are you ready for the next round?”
‘Not quite. I lost a couple of button
—while I look them up would you mind
taking a run on the bicycle?”
Then the Professor gave it a push, stood
on one foot and glided around the rc*om
with an ease and grace that was delightful:
“No trouble at all,” he remarked as he
stood on one foot and glided around the
room with an ease and grace that was de
lightful.
“No trouble at all, ” he remarked as he
stood beside me again. “When you find
yourself falling just give the wheel a turn
in the direction you are going and it will be
all right. Keep your eyes fixed on some
thing ahead.”
I shoved the machine ahead and kept my$
eyes fixed at a window.
I felt I was falling against the brichj
wall. I turned the wheel in that direction.-
I turned not wisely, but too well. As an*
eagle swoops downward, so swooped my”
two-wheeled demon toward the iron pillars.-
“Turn the wheel,” shouted the Profes
sor; but self-preservation is the first law of
nature. I abandoned the wheel and wild
ly clasped the pillar, as if it had been my
long lost brother while the bicycle left me,!
wabbled and fell with a clatter on the floor. 1
“First rate, good enough,” said the Pro- j Tliere ;ire tliree g^t training-schools for
lessor, rubbing his hands cheerfully, as he ! nurses in New York, at Bellevue, theChar-
went to the assistance of the bicycle. j jj-y an( j j^ ew York Hospitals. At Bel-
Was that a_success, too?” I asked. levue, nine wards of the hospitals arc as-
perpendicular.
“You can do it all right now if you only
think so,” he said on the fifth round.
“Well, I don’t think so, I cried. “You
hang on to this machine, or I'll massacre
you if I live after I get down.”
“I’ll not let go unless you want me to,”
and thus reassured we went around the
room eight times splendidly, although the
small boy was grinning about something.
The horrible thought nearly paralyzed me.
Would he suddenly let go and leave me to
my fate?
“I guess I’ll get down now,” I said
tremulously.
“One more turn,” said the Professor,
cheerfully, and when we were half way
round my worst fears were realized.
“You’re doing first rate; keep on,” said
the Professor as he coolly took his seat,
leaving me on that mechanical Belzebub.
" “Help!” I screamed. “Somebody grab
this machine! ”
But the small boy laughed aloud, and the
Profesor callously said, “Go on; go
ahead.”
I drew up my feet, clutched the handles
convulsively, while my hair began to stand
on end. The machine slowly stopped,
then gently leaned over, with me six feet
from the ground, and while I shrieked for
help that came not, down we came with a
clash like a hundred men in armor.
“Perfidious villain!” I shouted, throwing
off my vest which was now split up the
back, “prepare to die!”
“Why didn’t you keep on ”
“Why didn’t I keep on?” Why didn’t
you hang on?”
“I mean why didn’t ypu keep on ”
“Nobody could keep on a falling
wheel.”
“Keep on working the treadles. It was
all your lack of confidence.”
“It was all my child-like confidence in
you. Why did’nt you hang on?”
“My dear and excited sir, for the last
nine rounds 1 did not have a hand near the
machine. Ask the boy. You can ride all
right, only you had a touch of stage fright.
You see it was a lack of confidence.”
“Such was the case, and now I ride the
bycicle.
A School for Norses.
“Oh, yes. Why, you went at least
twenty feet as straight as a line. But
you’re too ambitious. Jf I were you I
would’nt try going around the posts just
yet for awhile.”
signed to the use of the school. The course
j»of training is a thorough one. Besides
bedside instruction from the house staff and
lectures from the surgeons and physicians
on points connected with the care of the
“Well, now that you mention it—I won’t. r sick, lessons in bandaging and the cooking
Would you have the kindness to see if I .of invalid fare are given, and constant
have bent that pillar any? I feel too! practice in the nursing of surgical and med-
excited and confused for a critical ex- \ icul cases is kept up. The board, lodging
animation.” I and washing of course is provided. Two
“Oh the post is used to those affection- j years is the term of service, the first being
ate advances,” said he as I walked across I devoted to training and the second to prac-
the room to pick up my hat. tical nursing, either as head nurses or as
Again I shoved the machine forward and ] attendants to pri-nue cases outside the hos-
o-azed ahead. Wo trundled aloug as if we; pital. Ten dollars a mouth is paid the first,
were made for each other until we had j and $16 the second year. The charges for
gone about half the length of the room, 1 reside nursing go to the hospital, which is
when I stepped down and brought it ready to furnish private invaJ ids with
standstill. j nurses on reasonable terms. The Charity
“Oh, pshaw,” cried the Professor, “why Hospital school is under the authority of
didn’t you keep it up? you were doing splen- the Commissioners of Charities and Correc-
Kissler wanted to go down to Plymire’s
spring house and get some milk to drink,
but Chaplin and Wylie opposed it. After
much argument on both sides we at last
started. It was about midnight, and ws
were as hungry as lean pups. For four
hours we had 3een running over the hille
hunting coons; at the present time we were
near Laycock’s dam, about two miles from
home. We had had some fun and had sue
ceeded pretty well. The question had
arisen whether w;e would return to town,
or eat some and remain until towards morn
ing. We were divided on the subject, but
as most young persons dislike stepping a
good thing in the middle, the majority of
us concluded to remain, and the rest,
rather than go home by themselves, staid
with us. Hart took the lead and we were
steered straight for the spring house. It
was far enough away from the dwelling to
keep from beine discovered, and we did not
use any caution in our approach, everything
was quiet, the saliva was already creeping
out of the corners of our mouths at'the pros
pect of filling our hungry stomachs. The
door opened and we stepped in. There
was ranged on the floor yesterday’s milk,
morning’s milk, evening’s milk, but very
little else. We expected more, we knew
the habit of farmers, making a kind of cel
lar, pantry, and store closet out of their
spring house, and looked for an abundance
here. We were sadly disappointed. Only
one loaf of bread could be found, it was
quickly cut into six slices, each two inches
thick, and we began to gnaw. We sat
down on the ground outside of the house,
each with a crock of milk in his lap, and
angry because the churning was not done
that day.
“Well I’ve got a good lot of rich milk
and don’t want any butter,” said Kissler.
“Weil,” said Hart, “this has been skim
med on the top, turned over and skimmed
on the bottom, and split, and skimmed in
the middle. It’s as blue as rinse water, I
never saw such stuff.”
“Where is Chaplin?” said I.
“Here I be.” His voice came from the
house. “I’ve tapped it. ‘Hot man!’ but
it’s good, Blackberry jam.”
None of us had eaten more than two
bites; so we hurried in to cover the rest
with a splendid substitute for butter.
No spoon could be found, and we just
dipped our hands into the crock and piled
our slices full. One fellow even swore be
cause there were no side boards on liis slice
so that he could pat on more.
1 was the last to get at the crock, but
there was plenty left for me. When I
reached the door to go out, there was an
awful fuss going on. One or two were
swearing like sailors, while Chaplin was
rolling on the grass and holding his sides
with laughter. I could not understand
“what w;is up” until I took a bite.
We all had spread erur pieces with
soft soap.
Egyptian Cats.
ped and was silent. He had Iris little
speech all ready, but his tongue was stiff,
and his throat parched.
Well, my Doy, what is it?” asked the
judge.
John thrust out his hand.
“A ruby sir. It’s worth a great many
thousand dollars. I found it on your
land.”
Judge Peters took the stone and examin
ed it eagerly. Then he turned to John,
and looked at him as curiously.
‘Why didn’t you keep it, if it is worth
so much?”
“I had a mind to. But it’s yours.”
He turned awjiy.
“Stop, boy! "Who are you!”
“John Fremoy, sir.”
“Oho! TJncle Job spoke of you to me.
You are uncommonly quick at figures, eh?”
“If I am, I am a dunce at everything
else. If I had not been, I might have gone
to West Point.”
“Ye-es,” looking thoughtfully at John.
“Very well,' Fremoy; I’m very much
pleased with honesty. Good-morning;’
and the judge rode abruptly away.
He rode direct to Uncle Job’s house and
was closeted with him for an hour.
The next day the village was electrified
by hearing that Judge Peters was going to
take John Fremoy to Annapolis to pass an
examination in the engineers’ department
at the Naval Academy, and that Lou was
to be put to school in Raleigh by the same
kind friend.
John Fremoy is now a middle-aged man,
-‘Qh yes, 1. reckon he could,” groaned j mnki hi h his profe ssion. ~ He met
Loii. .“But only think of West Poiut, • j uc ig e Peters about a year ago, at his sis-
cT “You’d be a gentleman and a sold- 5 -- J - - - •
on the top of the stable, safe, but almost
frozen. In the stable were two wolves that
had been so badly hurt by the horses m
their struggles to escape that it was but the
work of a moment to kill them. One of
the horses had been killed and was par
tially devoured; the other was loose in the
stable and bitten some, but not seriously
hurt. After seasoning the carcass of the
dead horse abundantly with strychnine they
started back to the platform, carrying with
them their ammunition. Driving there
they partook of breakfast and then slept a
few hours, each watching and sleeping al
ternately. About noon they concluded to
start for home, having stripped the dead
wolves of their hides in the morning. Ar
riving at the stable four of the largest of
the pack were found there, but were almost
dead from eating the poisoned carcass of
the horse. They were killed at once. It
was now tolerably certain that the pack had
been destroyed. With thirteen hides and
scalps the hunters reached home, having
received a bounty of $130, and the skins
are estimated as worth at least $50 more,
making a pretty successful trip after pay
ing for the old horse.
Detecting an Impostor.
Jack
ier and see the world: An’ ef you don’t
get it—why, then—”
“Then Uncle Bill’ll set me to plowin’
with the niggers in the fall. He said only
this momin’ he wasted enough money on
our schoolin’ and you and I be to go to
work to earn our salt. ”
John took up the book and went at the
lesson with a desperate energy, while Lou
sat crying silently.
The children were orphans, and lived
with their uncle, a farmer, on Mt. Craggy.
He was wretchedly poor, like the other
mountaineers, and was, besides, a coarse,
hard-uatured man. The school-bell rang.
“It’s com’n’ now,” said John, as he got
up and shut his boola.
“You’re powerful on ritlunetic, Johnny;
mind that! Jest you keep up!” eagerly
whispered Lou, running aloug beside him.
The boys crowded ifato the hot little
school-house, and the girls followed, ex
cepting Lou, who hung back, and finally
went to the wood-pile again. She knew
ihe should not be missed, and she could Nellie wag looklng at -Woolf’s
not bear to hear Johns examination. n ..., . \r_ T Ar h. in .
The poor little girl had but one friend ! W l *d Amjimls when Hr. JorkiM called,
in the world—her brother. She sat down,
house—for Lou married a planter in
Virginia, and is a happy wife and mother.
I have often wondered, judge,” he
said, “why you befriended me as you did.
I certainly was a dunee as far as Latin was
concerned, arid 'Uam oof af all 8ure tbat I
am accurate aborit the CarloviDgian dynasty
yet.”
“Honesty is a rarer quality than good
scholarship, and more useful in the world,
Fremoy.”
“And—another question—is not that the
ruby I found which you wear on your
watch-chain?”
“Yes.’
“May I look closely at it ?”
The judge hesitated, then laughed, and
gave it to him.
“Why, it is only colored quartz!” ex
claimed Fremoy.
‘ ^ es, but it is more valuable to me than
any jewel, for it gave me an honest man
for a friend.
* That Old Bore Jorklns,’*
her hands shaking as if she had a chill.
. .“He’ll fail 1” she said, looking up to the
sky and talking aloud. “I can’t stand it
Heavenly Father! I can’t! ”
As with most Southern children, “Heav
enly Father” was very real to Lou. Then
she began to pray, fast and hard, to this
far-away friend in the sky, to help John.
“Oh dear! Only get him over the Latin
and them Yirgians! He’ll manage the
’ritK&eJie himself.”
She sat there an hour or more, hearing
only a droning voice now and "then from
the open windows. At last there was a
and appealed to that gentleman to ex
plain one of the pictures.
“That is a wild boar,” saidhe, and the
little lady looked at it thoughtfully and re
plied:
*‘It don’t look like you, does it Mr.
Jorkins?”
“I hope not,” responded the guest.
“Why?”
“Because,” said the artless infant,
“Mamma said when your card was sent up,
‘There is that old bore Jorkins again.”
And it was a full minute before mamma’s
frozen low thawed sufficiently io inform
the nurse it was Kellie’s bedtime.
While attending college, our friend An
derson filled up his vacation with school
teaching, finding opportunity to keep the
late summer term of the village school at
Waterford. Things went on swimmingly.
The location was pleasant, the scholars were
good-natured, and the pay was fair,
length, however, there came a hitch. One
bright, balmy morning, the scholars found
written upon the door of the school-house,
in plain characters, “No skulk to da.”
The spelling was faulty, but the informa
tion conveyed was cheering, and away went
the jubilant youngsters over the hills for
a day’s sport. On the following morning
the teacher entered the school-room with a
portentous frown upon his brow. The no
tice of the previous day, under the cover
of which more than half of his school had
stayed away, had been the work of an im
postor. And how was the impostor to be
detected ? A scrutiny of the sober, guile
less faces before him satisfied Anderson
that ordinary inquiries would effect nothing.
Gradually the frown disappeared, and he
went on with the usual exercises as though
nothing had happened out of the way. To
wards the close of the afternoon session, he
bade the scholars put away their books, and
take their writing slates. Hejwould exercise
them in writing sentences. Several simple
sentences were given out and written down.
Finally he gave them to write: “Good
boy8 love their school.” When this had
been written the teacher , proceeded to ex
amine the slates. About a dozen of the
tow-headed urchins had submitted the
result of their efforts, and had their bad
spelling corrected. Next came Peter Mac
wash, a lad of twelve years, chubby and
rugged. His spelling was excellent. It
met the case in hand exactly. He had
spelt school— * l 8-k-u~l-e. ” Peter could not
deny the charge thus cunningly fastened
upon him. He was the impostor. And
as a reward for his caligraph effort upon the
school-house door, he had a nice new birch
en rod expended upon his back.
didly.”
“Pretty well done, wasn’t it?”
“Well, of course.”
“Well, I thought there was no use over
doing a good thing. The machine was just
giving a list over towards that last post. I
didn’t wan’t too conclude the thing too
abruptly, you know.”
Thus endeth the first lesson.
All next day I felt kind as if I had been
in a fight in which the other party was vic
torious. It was a week before I climbed
those stairs again.
‘Ah,” said the Professor as I entered. “I
thought you were discouraged. Since you
were up here last, that tall journalist—on
the other paper, was here and would you
believe it, he mastered the bicycle in half
an hour—yes, sir.”
“Oh, well, he has an advantage over
me. He can just put down his feet and let
the tallest bicycle run from under him.”
“Yes, I know, but he’s not a man to take
an advantage of any one. He went through
all the regulation tumbles with as much de
cision as you did.”
As I did? 1 thought you said I did
first rate before?”
*Oh, well, so you did—so you did; on
tumbles you know. You tumble, don’t
you?”
Lead out your steed.”
Yes, sir, he went clear over the head of
the tallest machine we have—twice. Mag
nificent falls! Last time he went smash
through that door carrying everything be
fore him. You noticed we had
new door, didn’t you? But he
rode around every post in the hall before
he quit.”
A new bicycle was now before me. The
other one had been used up in the interim.
“Try that one-foot business again.”
I tried it; and when he lifted the bicycle
from above me, I 'realized how much a
person can forget in a week.
“You should h^ve turned the wheel in
the direction you were going to fall,” he
said in a tone of mild reproof.
“What do you do when you know you
are falling in three different directions?” I
asked reproachfully.
After being able to gmde the machine
around the room, standing on one foot,
the next feat is to get jnto the saddle. A
feeling of utter hopelessness seizes the
daring man who finds himself on this per
ilous perch. But the secret of safety is to
turn in the direction you are falling, and
by and by you can run along with the byci
cle, step on the projection, and slip into the
saddle, while the apparently unconscious
machine whirls around the room.
Whenever you begin to feel the least
conceited about your exploits the malignant
machine gives a series of mixed up wobbles
that bewilders you, while you frantically
turn the wheel right and left, and at least
find yourself on the floor with the bycicle
beside you.
And then another exasperating thing is
the advent of the small boy. Just as you
are all perspiration, with suspenders broken,
buttons missing, .collar undone, wrestling
with the bicycle, a small boy with long legs
comes in, wheels oqt a machine, hops on it
like a bird on a pejph, folds his arms and
whirls .around room with pitying
glances at the ftfftas you are having. Then
lie will. winfill and out between the
pillars, likejii accomplished skater, and
again wilLjdjSrh&ps stand in the saddle, or
place hiidBt fe* high as his head on the
handle .igie machine, which acts all the
while aslSlliBre was no such thing as the
law of graviffition. How I did hate that
talented little wretch!
“Now,” said the Professor, leading out
the tallest machine he had, “get into the
saddle here, while I hold the bycicle.”
I would have flatly refused if that bey
had not been present.
“Place your feet firmly on the treadles
and work as if you were on the road. I
will keep the machine from falling.
“Now don’t let go of it.”
tion. The instruction is in special forms
of medical and surgical nursing, the term
of tuition the same as that at Bellevue, and
the pay ten and fifteen dollars a month,
with board and washing. Pupils must be
over twenty and under thirty-five years old,
and must present with their applications
for instruction certificates of moral and
physical soundness from a responsible citi
zen and a doctor. Services in the wards of
the hospital and the lying-in wards of the
Maternity Hospital, and lectures on the
various branches of nursing form the curri
culum. Frequent examinations are held
by the chief of staff of Charity Hospital.
At the expiration of the second year, diplo
mas are given to those qualified. The same
course of practical instruction, extending
over the same length of time, is given at
the New York Hospital. There are, too,
elementary lessons in anatomy, physiology
and hygiene. One month of each year
must be spent in the kitchen and one in the
laundry. The instructions in the kitchen
consist of plain cooking and all the varie
ties of special diet, from gruels up. That
in the laundry comprises plain and fancy
washing and ironing. Competent chiefs in
each department act as tutors. At the eud
of the first year a second class is formed,
and the nurses of the first class become
heads of the wards for next year. An ex
amination and diploma end the term. The
classes are limited to twelve students each,
of from twenty to thirty years old, in good
health and with a fair English education.
Certificates of character are also in rule.
Applications for admission to the New Y T ork
Hospital school are made to the board.
The lady Superintendent has charge of that
department for Bellevue, and chief of staff
of the Charity Hospital passes on applicants
for that course whom, on approval, he turns
over to the Board of Commissioners for final
indorsement. Medical men speak in the
highest terms of these schools and their
systems of instructions, and they are said
to have done incalculable good in raising
what was up to a few years ago a mere
trade to the level of an honorable and use
ful business, or rather profession.
The Egyptians are tho first people among
whom we find notices of the cat. It figures
largely upon the monuments as a domestic
pet, and was honored when dead. Comi
cal stories are told by Herodotus of the
anxiety to save the cats when a house
caught fire, and of tho ^of who- aioa.
The cat seems to have served as a retriever
in fowling expeditions, and even in fishing.
It seems strange that no mention of the cat
occurs in the Bible or in any Assyrian re
cord. Even in India, Prof. Max Muller is
quoted as saying that it was but recently
known as a domestic animal. Its Sanscrit
name is marjara, from a root meaning to
clean, from the creature’s habit of licking
herself at her toilot. Her mousing habits
were well known to the Romans, and even
to the Etruseans, as shown by antique gems
and even wall-paintings. The mouse-killer
domesticated among the Greeks, called gale
described by Aristotle, and humorously re
ferred to by Aristophanes in the “Peace,”
has been shown by Professor Rolleston to
have been our white breasted marten,
{Martee foina,) a different animal from
the gale agra or iktis, which was larger,
and a great lover of honey as well as a
killer of birds. Mr. Houghton dwells upon
the remarkably scanty occurrence in Latin
writers of the word felis or feles, Cicero
using it but once, and that when speaking
of Egyptian cats. Ovid in a single passage
speaks of a mythological felis, into which
the sister of Phoebus was changed. Be-
sideg the cat, the Egyptians domesticated
the ichneumon, popularly known as
Pharoh’s rat, which is still to be seen in
houses at Cairo.
Out in tbe Boat.
Wooden Bunions.
The Good Samaritan.
Oberlin, the well-known philanthropist
of Steinthal, while yet a candidate for the
ministry, was travelling on the occasion
from Strasbourg. It was in the winter
time. The ground was deeply covered
with snow and the roads were almost im
passable. He had reached the middle of
his journey and was among the mountains,
but by that time was so exhausted that he
could stand up no longer.
He was rapidly freezing to death. Sleep
began to overcome him; all power to resist
had left him. He commended himself to
God and yielded to what he felt to be the
sleep of death. He knew not how long he
slept, but suddenly became conscious of
some one rousing him and waking him up.
Before him stood a wagon driver in his
blue blouse aud the wagon not far away.
He gave him a little wine and food and the
spirit of life returned. He then helped
him on the wagon and brought him to the
next village. The rescued man was pro
fuse in his thanks and offered money, which
his benefactor refused.
“It is only a duty to help one another.”
said the wagoner, “and it is the next thing
to an insalt to offer a reward for such a
service.
“Then,” replied Oberlin, *-at least tell
me your name, that I may have you iu
thankful remembrance before God.”
“I see,” said the wagoner, “that you are
a minister of the Gospel; please tell me the
name of the Good Samaritan.”
“That,” said Oberlin, “1 cannot do, for
it was not put on record.”
“Then,” ieplied the wagoner, “until you
can tell me his name, permit me to with
hold mine.”
“Come—it's time to go out!”
I was in a snug berth on board the Seneca
and it was midnight in New York. The
patrol were all ready for their usual trip,
and after a cup of hot coffee to keep the
chills off we took our seats in the stout,
fast-running row-boat alongside the steamer-
It was a gloomy, squally December night,
and the men were muffled to their eyes.
‘ ‘J ust the night for ’em to come out! ”
whispered the sergeant as we shot out into
the current. “I’d give a new hat if we
could run* across some king-bee to-night.”
There were dim lights on board the craft
in the stream, and brighter ones at the fer
ries, but yet it was pitchy-dark along the
wharves and I wondered how the boat felt
her way as she did.
“Go ahead—stop—gently—easy now—
back her—go ahead! ” and we pulled into
slips, backed out, ran under the wharves
and turned corners to avoid barges lying at
the docks.
Near the Sectional docks, on South street
a wharf was covered with coffee, tea, spices
and other valuable freight. The tall masts
of the great India traders pierced the black
sky, but there was no stir on board as we
pulled past them and rested for a moment
under the stem of a great iron steamer fresh
through the Suez Canal with a load of tea.
“Hist! cautioned the sergeant, as we
hung there and peered into the darkness.
The fierce tide gurgled and foamed around
the piles, but over and above that sound
was another—that of a saw. Once we
heard the sound, we could keep it above all
others. Every man held his breath for a
long minute.
“Some thief under there!” whispered the
sergeant, “aud there may be hot work here!
You’d better take this revolver!”
The boat was now worked along by hand
m the direction of the noise, and presently
we were under the wharf and in the darkest
place I ever saw. It was delicate work to
force the boat along from pile to pile and
keep her from bumping as the swells washed
her about, but the sounds of the saw grew
plainer.
It was destined that I was to be the Jonah
of the expedition. While grasping a brace
to help steady the boat I disturbed a heap
of dust and got a big breath of it. I felt
that I musl sneeze, and I dropped into the
boat, pulled my nose and tried to adjourn
the catastrophe. It was no use. That
sneeze seemgd to start clear back of my
ears. I muffled my face in the lappel of a
police overcoat, but when the climax came
it was a “kachee?” which could have been
heard half-way over to Brooklyn.
“Up with the lantern—pull ahead!” was
the command, but the sneeze had accom
plished its work. There was some one un
der there with a boat but he had time to
get away.
‘Up and down, weaving in and out,
watching and listening and peering—halt
ing now and then to speak with a private
watchman—going ahead at full speed to
overhaul some craft —it was a night full of
strange, queer sensations, and 1 did not re
joice with the police when daylight came.
BRIEFS.
Freaks of a Corpse.
The meanest man lives in Fond du Lac,
and his name is Captain Mangan. A few
days ago a poor, unsophisticated com doc
tor struck that town and began a business
career. He was one of those innocent-
minded, unsuspicious corn doctors that
stand on a dry-goods box on a street-corner
with a lighted torch at mght, and plead
for suffering humanity and twenty-five
cents. He had no idea there were base,
designing men in the world, or he would
have entered the ministry and tried to lead
them to better life. He was a very beau
tiful young man, and his conversational
powers were rare and of a high order. In
his audience, cne evening, was this Cap
tain Mangan we were telling about, who
was all tliroughthe war—not in the commis
sary department—and got shot full of holes
and maimed for life. The captain told the
com doctor that he had been a great sufferer,
and money would be no object if he could
get relief from a bunion that was dragging
him down to a premature grave. The
young man came down off his dry-goods
box, remarking that he didn’t want any
thing softer than that bunion, and Captain
Mangan pulled off his boot and sock.
There is no question but that the men who
make artificial feet and legs nowadays have
got the thing down to a science. The com
doctor gave the foot a close examination—
as close as he thought was necessary—and
then turned away like one overwhelmed by
some ereat sorrow, some secret grief which
he cannot confide to others, but must carry
hidden in his own bosom, while he walks
up and down the earth till death comes to
his relief.
Mighty Sadden.
Not long ago Mr. J. McCloud, of Faulk-
»r county, * died of rheumatism
of the stomach. A large party volumesod
to sit up with the*corpse, and when nighi
came many sad faces of many sad women
and men were seen, sallowed by the mel
lowing light of tallow candles. The min
ister came, and enteringthe room remarked:
Earth to earth and ashes to ashes.” The
corpse lay on a table covered with a sheet.
‘He has gone over the road we must all
travel,” said the minister. A night-bird,
with a mournful cry, answered. A daugh
ter of the deceased came in with an apron-
full of tea-cakes, which, with a slow shuffle
she distributed around the room.—We
should prepare to follow him,” said the
minister, expletively, blowing cake crumbs
toward the corpse as though he wished his
words to waft away with winning sweetness.
The night-bird again cried out, and the
company sat silently, chewing cake.
“I thought I saw the sheet move,” said
one of the watchers. “See if there is a cat
under it.”
The company sat still.
“I am confident that the sheet moved,”
said the man.
The minister arose and lifted the sheet,
and standing, he looked at the pallid face
of the dead man. The corpse’s head left
the table. The minister fell back. Stiff,
stark and terrible the corpse slowly arose
from the table and attained a sitting posture.
The legs remained stretched out and the
arms remained folded. The women
shrieked and ran from the room, and the
minister, reprimanding them for their weak
ness and want of confidence climbed a fence
and stood in a turnip patch. When the
frightened people saw that the corpse did
not intend to follow, they went back into
the house. The corpse still retained the
upright, rigid posture, still as the attitude
struck by an amateur on the stage. With
fears somewhat allayed, minister the ad
vanced and placing a hand on the dead man’s
breast, pressed him backward. Propor
tionately as his nead went down, his heels
came up, and when his head touched the
board, his heels were high in the air. The
cause of the dead man’s freak was then dis
covered. The muscles of the stomach, dis£
torted by rheumatism, were contracting.
It required the efforts of two men to
straighten the corpse. A gentleman who
was present declares he never spent such a
fearful night, and with Clarence adds: “I
would not pass another such night, though
’twere to buy a world of happy days; so
full of dismal terror was the-time.”
An eminent divine from New England,
travelling in Texas for his health, impaired
by arduous clerical duties, upon ar
riving at one of the towns, went in search
of the barber’s shop for repairs and im
provements. On entering an establish
ment of this kind, he observed a big double
barrelled gun leaning against the wall.
Having a constitutional awe of fire-arms,
he hastily asked the barber If the gun were
loaded. A half-shaved native, who occu
pied the chair, turned around his lather-
beaten face and exclaimed: “Stranger! if
you’re in an ill-fired hurry, you’ll find a
six-shooter what is loaded m my coat-tail
pocket. ” This recalls another story of an
English tourist who proposed to visit Ark
ansas, and asked a citizen if ha ought to
provide himself with a revolver. “Wall,”
replied the citizen, “ye mout not want one
for a month, and ye mout not want one for
Soon he had driven out of sight, and three months, but ef ever ye did want it
Oberlin never saw him again. | yon’d want it mignty sudden*
Go On, Father.
A rich eitizen of Detroit lay upon his dy
ing bed. All his lifetime he had been
known as a sound business man, and oft
and again his fellow-citizens had come to
him foi business advice. He was dying in
his old age, but yet his intellect was bright
and sound. When he knew that he had
but a few hours to live he called liis only
son to him and said:
George, I am going to die, and before
I go I want to speak a few words with you.
You have neither trade nor profession; you
simply wander up aud down, squandering
all the money you can get hold of. In the
last ten years I have given you over $12,
000. What has become of it?”
‘Gone up the spout! ” was the mournful
reply-
‘But I shall not upbraid you, ’ continued
the father. “I have made a will. I had
five lawyers work at it for a week, and I
believe it is sound- I am worth half a
million dollars. 1 have willed you one-
fourth of this amount, and given your
mother "
“You haven’t gone and willed her the
big cud, have you?” interrupted the son.
‘George, I thought it was best, and I
now ask you to promise me that ’’
“Can’t do it—can’t possibly do it father!”
“George, won’t you promise me to stop
drinking?”
“Oh, that’s it? Yes, father, I promise
all my heart. I thought you wanted to
bind me not to set up a plea of insanity amd
bust that will into the middle of next week
in about a York minute. Go on, father;”
—Robert Kidd, 105 years old, is tho
oldest man in Texas .
—Total debt of Alabama U $7,603,000,
annual interest, $171,200.
—There are 4G rolling mills in Ohio,
32 ot which are in operation.
—France abolished Mie f lave trade,
so far as In her power, in 1815.
—Windmills were first known in
Spain, France and Germany in 12S9.
—The city of Boston has grown from
783 acres in 1790 to 22,692 acres In 1380.
—General Purvience has been ap
pointed receiver of the Butler (Pa.)
Bank.
—American sweet potatoes and cran
berries are becoming popular in Eng
lish markets.
—The furnace of a smelting works in
Jersey City is to be run with tar as fuel,
insread of coal.
—The .-Etna furnace at Rome, Ga., is
turning out an average of 12 tons of
pig iron per day.
—The rolling-mills of Chicago now
employ over 3,060 men, and are run
ning night aud day.
—M>. George W. Childs has a mania
for clocks. He has ten in his office and
thirty in his house.
—Boots and shoes for dolis are turn
ed out by one London house at the rate
of 1,000 pair a week.
—Robert A. Lamberton, President
elect of Lehigh University, Pa., is in
his fifty-sixth year.
—Cruclfieation, as a criminal punish
ment, was very common four or five
hundred years B. C.
—The prospective bride of Ulysses S.
Grant, Jr.. Miss Flood, is to receive
$2,500,000 as a wedding gift.
—Prof. Tyndall has been delivering
scientific lectures to children at the
Royal Institute, in London.
—The first building of the Egyptian
pyramids is supposed to have beeu
about 1500 years before Christ.
—Since 1869 the Pacific Railroad has
landed 472,811 passengers in San Fran
cisco and brought away 280,863.
—The English Wesleyans are getting
up a thanksgiving fund, to which no
less than $1,177,825 has been promised.
Mr. Cutler of the Kova Scotia Leg
islature has been a member of that body
for forty-two years, and is now 96 years
of age.
—Alabama was originally a portion
of Georgia. It was admitted into the
Union in 1820, with a population of
128,000.
—Iowa had 2,100 granges with a
membership of40,000 in 1872, but now
there are but 200 societies and 5,000
grangers.
—No wine was produced in France
in the time ot the Roman occupancy.
The art of making wine was -Hiaced
Li luata.
Excess in dress was restrained bj
law in England under Edward IV.,
1465, and again in the reign of Eliza
beth iu 1574.
—One firm in Baltimore has made a
contract for 300,000 tons of iron and
iron ore, and another lor 140,000 from
English ports.
—kuma hss abandoned.the seheme of
its proposed World’s Fair for 1882, as
Milan proposes holding a great national
fair in the same year.
—America imported from Europe
last year 29,641s396 gallons of wine, an
increase over the importation of 1878 of
nearly 15,000,000 gallons.
Michigan University has 1,397 stu
dents, the largest number of any
American college. Columbia pays its
professors the largest salaries.
—Tho Lake Shore and Michigan
Southern Railroad Company has given
orders to increase the wages and salar
ies of the 10,000 employes 5 per cent.
—It is estimated that there are 10,000
well-educated young men in Paris who,
for want ef more lucrative employ
ment, accept a franc per day as copyists.
—The depositors in the Glasgow
bank, which failed in 1877, will be paid
in full, the amount of $45,000,000.
The 1,700 stockholders are personally
liable.
Between 6,000 and 7,000 seamans’
libraries are kept on the water by the
American Seaman’s Friend Society,
the number of volumes being over
300,000.
—A stock company is being formed
in Rochester, with a capital of $100,000,
to put down salt wells near Wyoming.
Ten acres of land have been leased, and
two large springs of fresh water.
—Col. Wellesley, son-in-law of Lord
Augustus Lofcus, who created a scan
dal last year by eloping with a danseuse,
lias been dropped from the list ot A. D.
C.’s. to the Queen. He is Colonel of
the Coldstream Guards. ,
—Over 200,000 car loads of live and
dressed poultry are carried into New
York City yearly, and 25,000,000 dozen
of eggs to the same market. Accord
ing to best estimates the United States
produce 9,000,000 of eggs aunually.
■Michigan is a good State to live in.
Her debt is only $890,000, while there
Is $904,000 in the sinking fund to meet
it. Another evidence of thrift is the
building of the State Capitol for $15,000
less than the appropriation for building
it.
—The largest cities in the world have
the following populations: London,
3,500,000; Paris, 1,851,000; Vienna,
1,181,000: New York, without Brook
lyn, 1,060,000; Berlin, 1,044,000; Can
ton, l,000j000; Shanhowfoo, 1,000,000;
and Sigafoo, 1,000.
—In the reign of Louis XIV France
had a population of 19,000.006, England
8,000,000, and Germany 19,000,000. In
1780 France had 26,000,000, England
12,000,000 and Germany 28,000,000.
Under Napoleon I. France had 29,000,-
000 and England 19,000,000.
—The potato crop ot the country is
estimated at 181,369,000 bnsheU. Com
pared with 1S78 there was an increase
of 3 per cent, in acreage, and the yield
is estimated by the Department of Ag
riculture at 98 bushels per acre, against
69 bushels lost year, and 94 in 1874.
—There Is a rumor that Hon. Eu
gene Hale will be compelled to move
permanently Irom his home In Maine
and take up his abode in the State
of Michigan. The great estate left by
Senator Chandler requires constant at
tention, and Mr. Hale will be forced
to devote all his time to it.
—During 1879 the births in Rome
numbered 7,987 of which 7,98 0 were
among the resident populatln. The
deaths among residents were 6,714. On
Dec. 31,1879, the population numbered
298,960, an increase of 9,639 over 1878.
Since 1371 the population hasincreased
by 54,476, mainly bv immigration.
—The Victoria, Australia, Year
Book lor 1878-9 shows that In 1856 Vic
toria produced 2,9S5,735 ounces of gold;
in 1866,1,478,280 ounces, and in 1878
only 765,270 ounces. In 1856 there
were only 179,983 acres of land in cul
tivation, while in 1878 there were 1,-
609,878. The population is only 900,000.
