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Cedartown advertiser. (Cedartown, Ga.) 1878-1889, January 24, 1884, Image 1

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$be Mattoumgttettsw. Office, W ABEHOL SE STREET, One Door .north of Cptton Warehouse: Official JSurnal of Polk and Haralson Counties. AilvtTti.scim.-uts inserted at the- rate ot >1 per square tor first insertion, and 50 cents per square tor each subsequent insertion. Tile space ot one inch is reckoned as a square. Special rates given on advertisements to run tor a longer period than one month. Advertiser. D. B. FREEMAN. Publisher. LABORING FOR THE COMMON WEAL. TERMS; $1 50 Per Annum, in Advance. OLD SERIES—VOL. X- NO. 51 CEDARTOWN. GA.. THURSDAY, JANUARY 24, 1884. NEW SERIES—VOL. VI—NO. 6. Job Printing. THE ADVERTISES JOB OFFICE IS EQUIPPED WITH GOOD Press and Xew Material, EMBRACING Type, Border, Ornaments, &c. t Of Tile very latest designs, and ail orders for Job Work will be executed neatly, cheaply and promptly. LOVE AND FAME. The poet’s soul that Bad the honey pressed. From man and life, On eager wings had gone to seek her rest Far from eart h’s strife. Fame' said to Love: “The poet's soul is mine. ’Tis mine to bring To tny eternal fields the voice divine That thus could sing.” "SKr Love answered: “Though thy claim I now confess. ’Twas X did give Uis verses all the fire and gracefulness Whereby they live.” THE BANKER’S It I EC E. It was quite late in the evening ere the banker’s clerk, Pierre Dupont, was able to meet his engagement and enter the splendid ball room of the Countess D. A noble-looking fellow, dressed with exquisite taste, and withal brim ful of mirth and compliment, he was ever a desirable acquisition to the soiree of the season, and as he passed along now. interchanging bows and greetings, many a lady’s eyes grew bright, and many a heart beat tumult uously. f But the clerk was too wearied just then to regard any very closely; and, indeed, had only repaired to the gay spot because he could not well excuse himself. Threading his way through the graceful dance he gained at length a draperied window and en- sconded himself behind the rich cur tains and looked, listened and rested. His attention was soon riveted on the face of a young girl who sat beside an opposite window. Not because she was not beautiful, for he thought her very plain in features; nor because of ner cuaiij .a.., W she was dressed In simple muslin; but only from tue cu- cumstance that she was the only mai den seated, the wall flower of the hall, the rest all tripping the mazes of the figures just then called. He thought she looked a little sad, and d : d not wonder, she sat there so lonely and neglected. Pierre had a warm and k'lidly heart hidden under his laughing mein, and he resolved at once that, fatigued though he was, he would seek an introduction and lead her to the floor. The countess passed just then. He expressed his wish to her and asked the name of the unknown. To his astonishment he was told she was the •niece of hi employer, a :d called Louise Lascelle. ' “A liquid name, truly, my lady, I wonder if her voice be as soit.y musi cal.” “I can hardly tell you. I have so seldom heard it. She was .introduced to me last week by her uncle, and, of course, as so near a relative, I must needs invite her. But she is not happy here, I think. She is so clean and poorly dressed that our beaux do not fancy her. She has not danced at all.” ‘ ‘Present me, if you please. 11 would ill become me to pass her by.” “lou think, then, to gain the bank er’s favor. But I warn you. He told me she had no expectations from him to offer to the world, and I infer she is some poor relative to whom in pity he has given the post of housekeeper,” “Yet, present me. If poor, I am her equal. If neglected, the more need that 1 should show her some respect.” And he crossed the room and the countess introduced him. Pierre had thought her quite plain, but when she raised her eyes to his he saw that she had at least ;is brilliant a pair of orbs as flashed in th? whole saloon, and lie noticed too, that the lashes which veiled them were long and silken. And when she responded to his compliments he found that her voice was softly musical, and when their conversation became animated, her whole countenance, though very pale, became radiant with the expres sion of her thoughts, laughter now dimpling her thin lips, gravity chast ened their curve, and sarcasm rounded them into fulness. And when he led her away he marked that her step was light and graceful, her attitude a model, and her whole mien enchanting. He saw, too, that her hair, though not abundant, was rich and dark, and soft and glossy as untarnished silk, and, though confined in braids, had a wavy outline that gave it the appearance of imprisoned ringlets. Her drass, too though of muslin, was of the finest and and most delicate India fabric, and the little lace that flounced her neck and sleeves was of the . arest kind. “She has exquisite taste, I know,* whispered he to himself, “or a robe so plain would not bang in such grace ful lolds, nor would its few trimmings be so expensive,” And forthwith he began to wish that he were rich, and to fancy how he would array the maiden if he were burdened with the care. Strange thoughts far himl An hour kefore, and he did not know she lived. Now he hoped she might live forever, and he beside her. He devoted himself exclusively to her during the remainder of the even ing, the other ladies wondered what he could find so enchanting in a maiden whom other beaux without exception had slighted. And when the banker’s carriage was announced, as the uncle had excused himself quite early, he begged and obtained permission to escort her home, and the musical “Bonsoir, monsieur,” which trembled on her lips as she' parted from him haunted his memory all night long and sang sweetly in his ears the whole of next day, notwiths'anding he spent it amidst dusty ledgers. The succeeding evening there was a party at the banker’s and the clerk, one of the invited guests, went early this time, and thus obtained a half hour’s conversation with the niece, unmolested by hearers or lookers-on. But he was better pleased than even he had been before, and only left her side, when politeness to other friends demanded. He sounded her mind and found that it was rich in ores that rust could not corrupt; while her heart, for as she chose to show it, w.j>s a very heaven of purity and holiness. In short, he was in love, and he thought it no wonder, either, or rather he did not stop to analyze his feelings—it was enough to know how he felt—enough to know that her lightest tone was music to his ears, and the gentlest touch of her soft hand sent an electric revelation to his heart. They met evening after evening, sometimes in the louely parlors of her uncle; sometimes at the theatre or opera, but oftener at the ball-rooms of her wealthy relatives acquaintances, • whither she went for what reason it seemed hard to tell. Perhaps to gratify her unele’s wishes, perhaps her curiosity because she hoped for admiration or ’ r 'i? ^sgtocted, and still called plain and dowdyish, though they owned her looks Improved a little, and her dress had more of tene. The clerk thought she grew handsomer each time he saw her. They stood one evening in her uncle’s winter garden, the breath and beauty of the summer time all about them was chill, arid hifM^jtytnewlndr^She was toying with a rosebud, a wweet, half-blown thing, that she had carelessly plucked from a bush beside her. Sim bad inhaled its fragrance, trailed it upon her brow and cheek, pressed it in dalliance to her lips, and now with her slender fingers was unfolding the green calyx. *’ > “Do not tear it, Louise”—their in timacy warranted him in the use of her liquid name; “give it to me—or stay;” and he plucked its mate—“exchange this with me.” 4Sbey' we^e simple words,'but they brought rich color to the maiden’s cheek, and she had no power to speak. Their hands met softly, lightly, to t xchange the ibuds, but somehow they ould never iiflll, their fingers were en tangled and in the ecstacy that thrilled them the floral gift was quite forgot ten, and only brought to memory after an hour’s delightful interchange of promises and love, by the words of the betrothed Louise:—“The rose has ever been my favorite flower; I will wear it more than ever now;” when the fallen buds were gathered up and borne away that night on human hearts. With a proua ana manly step the clerk the next day sought the uncle and asked his niece in marriage.—The banker seemed astounded. “You are too poor to marry, Pierre.” “May be, monsieur, but not to love. We will live on that.” "xt la food f^r the honevmoon.” “Then ours shall last iorevcx,- “Well, well, I’ll see about it. Go now. The ledgers wait.” So Pierre went to his work again, and the uncle tc see his niece, and they were long closeted together.—And when he came again to the counting room he whispered to the clerk: The girl is as willful as yourself, and vou may make your- own way— but mind, should the honeymoon e’er wane, yon come not here with pitying tale.” They were married five days after ward, with none but necessary wit nesses. The banker gave his niece away, and as he pressed his paternal kiss upon her cheek he hung about her neck a diamond necklace, wntch Pierre thought-“an unseemly gift for a por tionless bride, and for a poor man’s wife. But he forgot its glitter soon in the dazzling raaiance that flashed from her dark eyes, as side by side they drove out from the bustling city to spend a single day of leisure. The bridal eve was over, and the twain, now of one flesh, sat at their breakfast. But the bridegroom was strangely sad and absent, and e;e long the bride questioned him. “What ail’s you,Pierre? Why don’t you eat or drink?” “I have no appetite.” “Love suffices, I presume, but why that wrinkled brow? One would think you were a cross old grandfather in stead of a youthful husband. I say again what ails you?” * “I don’t want to leave you.” “And who wants you to—not I. I’m quite sure?” “Your uncle does, and I must go. I have stayed too long, yet I should like to spend one week in honeymoon.” “And so you shall.” “But our bread, Louise?” “Our bread 1 Then you think it will suffer from six day’s idleness. My baker will take care of that. But it is time the play was out.—Know that I have no expectations from the banker, because I need none, I am mistress, in my own right to a million and a half.” “You, Louise—my bride?” “Ay your bride—Madame Pierre Dupont, not quite so musical a name as my old one of Madamoiselle Louise Lascelle, and yet I like it well. And, moreover, the lady has a villa in the south that a nobleman might envy, and there forthwith we’ll go and stay for a week or a year, just as we please. ” But why ” Conceal so long my riches? That I might win a husband who loved me and not my gold. I had many lovers, but on testing them I found it was not me they wanted but my possessions. I came here, and at a time when sick ness had despoiled me of the little beauty I had owned, and, with uncle’s permission passed off a dowerless niece. You fancied me, in spite of my poor looks and empty purse, and I—well, never mind. Uncle gives a ball to night, in honor of our nuptials, and it’s time you were deciding on your dress. Miue is already ordered, and when our friends see the bride in snowy satin, queenly laces, and a veil that is a fortune, floating above the ringlets on her neck, for the braids shall all be unloosed and my hair have its free will to-night, a loop of diamonds in eadhear, a bracelet on each arm and a necklace around my throat, perhaps they will think they were mistaken, and credit beauty, grace, fashion and wealth-to the bride of the hour.” “And the stgr of the evening and the city shall, be my own Louise, late but the banker’s niece.” Champagne. The Faculty of Paris in 1778 pro nounced champagne to be the finest and healthiest of all wines, and, except in cases of weak digestion, is, if pore, one of the safest wines that can be drankt It is the king of wines at the convivial board in this country—so much so that when a “bottle” of wine is proposed, it understood to be be champagne, unless some other is expressly men- mentioned. “Its intoxicating effects are rapid, but exceedingly transient, and depend partly upon the carbonic acid, which is evolved from it, and partly upon the alcohol, which is sus pended in the gas, being rapidly and extensively applied to a large surface of the stomach.” The Idea that cham pagne produces gout is erroneous, though it is to be avoided whe.etbat disease already exists. It is a mistaken idea that champagne must be swallowed as soon as possible after it is uncorked. It it is real and good champangne it improves by letting it stand a little, as after the gas has partly escaped, it will entirely retain the flavor and body of the wine, which is, to some extent, con cealed by ita effervescence. This is the best teat of good champagne. The best method of disposing of bait the slanders of tbs ige is to pay them no attention. The other bait may be lived down. Circus Folklni Winter. “Do they retire into the cave ofgloom and have their long, unbroken winter snore, just like the bear and other strollers? Or how do they hibernate ?’ The reporter addressed the question to a group of circus people, and Mr. Stickney took the answer upon himself. “It has often been a puzzle to me why the general public is so little informed about circus people in this country. With the doings and sayings the for tunes and misfortunes of actors and singers and other show people the press is very familiar, and devotes regularly an amount of space to them, but for ns, the circus folks, not a line is avail able.” Thus, said the veteran eques trian, musingly. However,” he con tinued, “I’ll tell you something about circus people. The salaries of the rideis are generally large enough during the season to support them through the winter. They do not bother about giv ing instructions in equestrianism. The remuneration would be too small, and. besides, not every bareback rider is competent or even able to instruct others how to ride. With circus riders the point is to learn how to do all kinds of daring tricks on horseback without losing their balance and hold of the steed. The manner in which they sit ,on their horse, whether coirectly or Indian fashion, makes little difference. So you see they couldn’t show^ others how to sit on a horse. Well, the most of them spend their winters in those few places in the country where prac ticing buildings are to be had. There’s S. Q.Stokes’ place in Fordham, N. Y., where there is a forty-two foot ring to practice your horses in. These equestrians that have their own horses send them for stabling, and pay a certain sum for their keep and for the privilege of practicing them. Ti>o come is true of Eaton Stone’s place near Newark, N. J., ana ut Oanoii’e in. West Chester. Barnum only keeps large quarters for liis menagerie in Bridge port, Conn., hut no practicing build ings. Well, in these different plaees the regular circus riders go on practic ing their horses and their own limbs all through the cold weather If they did not they would lose their skill and never improve. They break in and train new horses besides, and learn all kinds of new tricks for the next season. Of course. I’m only speaking in this connection of the well-known riders of reputattonlike Jim Robinson, Charley Fish, Frank Melville, Orrin Hollis, and Willie Sholes. This last one is the rising equestrian, quite a young fellow, but endowed with skill, grace, and daring that will make him eclipse all the present champions. Of the female bareback riders I may mention hut a few, like Mme. Dockrill, Lottie Aimard, Yiola Rivers and Ella Zuyana—tliat’s a man, by the way, but performs in woman’s clothes. And lie’s the most finished circus rider in this country, and the most elegant. S. Q. Srokes graduated him. As I said before, the equestrians don’t give lessons in the cold season. It wouldn’t pay them.- The winter circus in our cities is un known in this country, hut I am sure they would pay as well in such places as New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Chicago as they do in Paris, London or Berlin.” “Don’t some of the Americans ac-< cept engagements in European circuses in winter, such as in Renz’s circuses in Berlin, Vienna, Dresden, or Hamburg, or at the hippodromes in Paris or Lyons? ” asked the reporter. “They do sometimes, but not this year, as it happens. The show buisness has been dull in Europe this year. There are some American circus people, though, a few, who will perform this winter in the circus of Orrin Brothers in the City of Mexico. Last winter there was also a circus running in New York, at the Indian Wigwam, Thirty- fourth street and Broadway, and L. B. Lent has made ail his money in his win ter circus on Fourteenth street, New York.” “How about the other rtreus people— the jugglers, tumblers, gymnasts? ” “They’re better off than we eques trians. All those that amount to any^ thing can find all the engagements they want during the winter. They perform in theatres and such places of amuse ment. and generally have a series of en gagements running right up to the be ginning of the circus season.” “New Mr. Stickney, tell me the A B C of circus riding and equestrian tricks.’,’ “I will, with pleasure. In order to make a proper ring horse, first make him bridle-wise. The horse then has the pad put on him, if he is to serve as a pad-hone. To get used to that takes some time. Then you must get the horse accustomed to the ring, which is done by leading him around the circular track, and always bending his neck in side, toward the track. Then give him a long dose of ‘rough riding.’ If he kicks with the pad on his back, you work away at him until you make him understand that he’s got to carry it and the object on top of it, and that it don’t hurt him. The Tung rein’ is also used. at that period of a horse’s training. When thus far, bring in your objects, such as banners, hoops, flags, hurdles, drums, weapons, etc., and get him thoroughly used to them. Let him look at them and smell of them; in short, take all the fear out of him by convin cing him that nothing of all this, despite the noise, is going to injure him. When he has become acquainted with all of these thingSj when the horse no longer shies, and will pursue the even tenor of his way in the arena, no matter what happens, then he is a good performing horse. Only about one in’every fifty horses gets that far, though, just' as it is with a circus rider, too. It takes special aptitude, skill, and constant practice, and. even then a circus eques trian is never sure but what an accident may cripple him for life the next minute.” 'Louis Quatorze delighted m honor billiard players who could goon for any length of time making cannons against brilliant players, but who. at the same time professed inability to bent the Kins. ChamiOart rose to be first Min ister by suffering himself to be defeated each time he bail the Grand Monarch for an opponent. It ms in the reign of Ludovico Magnus that billiards first rolled on green baize In France. His Majesty was a gluttonous eater, and he wore light-heeled shoes and berlbboned garments he could not trudge over hill and dale, gun in band, in the shooting season, He rode in a carriage when he followed a stag-hunt Heavy eating and no exercise to speglTOf irritated his peccant honors. Fagan did not dare to try the effect* of hie v*dMaer on so Illustrious a personage, and.was afraid to tell him disagreeble troths, it would not have done for him to say: “You eat too much, sire, and walk to little." But he had the ingenious idea to hand him a billiard cue, and to tell him that it was “a lance of Achilles, which would soon vanquish bile and gplpen.” The King risked a pan on the occasion. “If what I am told,” he said, “be true. I shall return to a state of nature and ’ne pins me separer de ma queue. ’ ” He was a man of his word. On risingfrom the table, the first thing he did wax to seize his billiard cue and play intermi nable games with Madame de Montes- pan, Her eclipse was not so much due to the art other rival, Madame Scarron, as to her own want of tact in allowing courtiers to judge of her superiority over the King at the billiard table. His Majesty at first staked church livings, military grades, civil functions, against money. But, when he found that his courtiers preferred risking his displeas ure to losing their stakes, he played for honor alone and gained easy victor ies. In his old age Lonis XV wielded the {ance of Achilles against the Du Barry. The Nuncio used to look on while the King and his favorite played, and was observed to blush at the sayings ot the latter when she had lost patience. Louis XVIII was also a billiard player until his obesity hindered him from getting near enough to the table to be master of his cue. Under the Empire publicans were encouraged by ministers of the Interior to demacuratize what had been for nearly 200 years a noisy game. By its noisiness and the space the table and players occupied, it pre vented villagers crowding into wine shops to talk politics. In old court times French ladies were among the best billiard, players. I have seen, in an old curiosity- shop, a staymaker’s signboard, in which the tradeswoman who hung it out claimed to njaxe cor sets which did not hamper the action of the muscles in using the cue. “La belle Caramboleuse,” or “pretty Can noneer,” figuring on the board, held in her hand a be-ribboned cue, and had her hair dressed in the Du Barry style. Billiards are held in honor at the Ely see. Grevy’s facility in calculating ricocchets is phenomenal, and his hand is deft in striking a bali at the exact point at which he wants to hit it. lie is ono of the rare men who are first-rate players without having made billiards a pro fession or entirely devoted themselves to them as amusement. The owner of the Cafe de la Regence used to maneu- ver-to k' ep him from the table there, because the lenght of his breaks was a cause of loss to the house. Dinner Giving. Givers of dinners snould lose no time in making themselves acquainted with all that has been written by the great masters of gastronomy. The following g»’den rules of Brillat-Salvarin should be committed to memory: ‘ Let not the-number of guests ex ceed twelve, so that the conversation may he general. Let them be so selec ted that their occupations shall be varied, their tastes similar, their points of contact so numerous that to intro duce them shall scarcely he necessary. ‘•Let the dining room be superbly lighted, the cloth of exquisite fitness and gloss, the temperature of the room from 60° to 68° Fahrenheit. “Let the men be cultivated, without pretensions; and the ladies charming 'Without coquetry. Let the dishes be exceeding choice, .bet not too numerous; and every wine T firstrate of its kind. • LoVUie order of dishes be from the Substantial to the light, and of wines from the simplest to' those of richest bouquet. “Let the business of eating be very slo’lvthe dinner being the last act of thetfajs’ drama; and. let the guests and es as so many leisurely towards the liquor : be large j if any of out it, and Let be chosen by the host. ‘Let the dra enough for a the guests cahni yet have space enough ’ remaining for after-dinner conversation. “Let the guests be retained by the at tractions of the party, and animated with the hope of some evening meeting again under the same pleasant auspices. “Let not the tea he too strong; let the toast be buttered m the most scientific .-manner; let the punch be prepared to perfection. “Let no one deDart before 11 o’clocx and no one be in bed later than 12. “If anyone has been present at a par ty fulfilling these conditions, he may boast of having been present at his own apotheosis.” The CraxleBt Crate Vet. Buying a Horse. The man who can buy a horse and feel sure of his purchase is necsHsanly, an expert. There ure more ohances for deception in a horse trade, likely, than there are m any other traffic. A suc cessful dealer in horseflesh generally learns his trade by years of experience, wh oh is osnallv quite expensive. Then, too, he must be very familiar- wiii the* horse, its habits and its aiiments. Few men vho have attempted it can say they were never beaten at a horse trade. There seems to be no exact standard by which to judge a giod horse. Long horses have been speedy and short horses have been speedy. Tall horses have shown good qualities on the road, and so have short-legged ones. There are. however, oertain rules and laws of hygiene which may be studied and con sulted in making an equine purchase. The home-buyer mnst remember that horse-flesh is subject to exactly the same disease that man is. *'He has ' headache, earache, toothache, fever and all other ailment,” as a veter inary surgeon expressed it to the writer. Internal aiiments eaa seldom be dis covered by any other than a veterinary surgeon expressed. There are surface indications, however, which are easily discernible, snd should always be looked for by a horse buyer, whether an amateur or a professional, One pomt the amateur migrfl make in par* chasing-a horse is this: ‘‘Never bay a home from a man yon do not know* -‘In baying ahome,”said a professional in the bus ness, “always take him when he is cold—that is, when the animal is fresh from the stable. In this way yon may discover lameness, which wifi pass away when the horse warms np, but which, nevertheless, is a very bad point. No man will bay a home if he Knows it. If there are any too great curves about the animal, such as a •way back, a man who Is at all familiar with the home will easily discover them. String halt or a depressed hip will also be discovered. The eyes mast always be examined, for while a blind home is not nseles, one with f erfect vision is much mare desirable. The teeth, too, always come in for their share of in spection, bat they are not always a guide mil ess the haver is well np in his business, for a trader who so wishes can make them very deceitful. By fil ing and a process known as bishoping, an old horse that has seen nearly a score of yearn can be given a set of teeth which will paas with -many as tliote of a five-year-old.” “in baying a borne look part ealariy at his legs, See that he is not sp'int- ered in ths face legs orspatiaed behind. These diseases are those of the bona, and affect a home abont the bade joint The bone goes through a process of malformation, causing a swelling and stiffness, which are usually very evident to the horseman, A similar diseate or affliction peculiar to the horse, which mast also bj looked for, ii ringbone. Thu much r.aembl • spavin, and is found just above the hoof on either the fore er hi ad legs of the animal, and also produces swelling and in time lamb da. •Mn fiber thing that mnst be looked at in baying a home is the glanders. A horse that u afflicted with that plague you might as well JcilL He is incur able and will transmit it to all the animals with which he comer ir con- tae. Foctnnateiy it is not a very com mon disease. Thr symptom of ft are very cancerous sores in the nostrils ani at times a very d sagreeable discharge. Aa stated above, there is no criterion by which tobuj ahorse for speed. In proof of this! will cite yon moaple of instances, gome time ago a home waa t ought in the Fifth street market for street ear ponoaes* He was driven on the Elm street hne for a long time for a long time, and nothing unusual waa notioed aboat him until oaa day, when having bean, aecadentally hitched to a boggy, it waa discovered that haco " •pin handle in aboat 240, aad 1 much too rateable to to Um t* a You can never tell what these wo men are going to do next,’’said a loqua cious barber in one of the large Chicago hotel shops to a reporter as he forced about half a pint of lather into the scribe's alabaster ear. “Now that elegantly dressed lady just going out of the door has had her haircut off as close as yours is all over her head. .She has done it simply because it is the proper thing to do, and will probably ruin a most luxuriant crop.” “You don’t mean to tell-me that the practice of ‘aocking’ women’s hair is becoming common in Chicago?” queried ;he hirsute newspaper man, becoming somewhat interested, t “It certainly is. Why, it already mounts to a ‘craze.’ I think that '..oman is the third we have‘clipped’ to-day, and we have averaged two or brec a dav for a month past.” “Is it tor the sake of com foil that this fashion is coming into vogue?” “No; I think it is because of the novelty of it. It gives some women a very striking appearance which is really very improving. Others appear abso lutely absurd, and probably feel very much worse than they look after it is all done. It is simply the result of a desire to be noticed, to be looked at, to attract the comment and admiration of peop'a as roolish as themselves. In the summer time, when a heavy head of hair must be a burden to a woman, there might be some sense in the ‘craze’ but at this season it must be a great piece of folly to give up such a wonder ful protection against the violent winter weather. To cut even a man’s hair close to the head in this uncertain cli mate at this season of the year, is dan gerous, but the exposure is nothing compared with ‘cropping’ the hair of a grown woman.” “Are most of these women young or old?” Oh, all ages; but mostly middle-aged and young women from 20 years of age upward. You can never tell what a woman will do with her hair, or what sort of fool she will marry.” ' 'Don’t some of these women have their hair cut in the hope that it will grow out stronger, thicker and heavier in consequence?” “I don’t believe they do. for that is a great mistake. Ii has not been my ex perience that women’s or men’s hair grow out any thicker and heavier after cutting or shaving it. Women’s hair that is wavy or early more often than not comes in again straight and no heavier than before. Nature gives people a certain grade of hair, and if they will not take care of it, no amount of cutting will help it. Brushing the hair and taking care of the general health are the sure means of keeping the hair fine and beautiful.” Tbe Kmpretm Ksgenle. Tnose who have seen the ex-Empress of the French lately cannot help con trasting the face of fifteen years ago with the face that has looked on the ter rible scenes that followed Sedan, the dead husband at Chiselhnrst. and the dead son who was brought home to her from the plains of Zululand. tghoee who saw the imperial lady in ParitTsix- teeen or eighteen years ago have noil’or- gotten how beautiful she was. “Doom'-t she deserve a throne for her beauty?” said an American gentleman who saw her for the first time in Paris. She united the most handsome features of the German and Latin races—the fore head high and free the eyes splendidly blue, but not very;1arge; the hair of a slightly darkened hue; the form of her face small, oval; the nose fine, in beau tiful symmetry, but not too high; the month a trifle too large, especially when she smiled, and the least bit Jewish. Her whole appearance suggested a beau tiful model for a Hebe—neck, shoul ders, arms and above all, her hands beautifully shaped, and all this combi ned with the witching grace of an An dalusian danaeuae. But time an sor row have wrought their changes. The beauty has been swept by the rough fingers of adversity, and the lady, whose suite consists of a few faithful Fiend) friends, is no longer that bright particular star that shone so long in the galaxy of Parisian fashion and splen dor. Ohm three year old ostrich will yield $150 worth of feather* a year. Gajnid* ering that an ostrich will eat a week’s washing at one meal, if it gets a chance, ana swallow a few feooo-picketa lot de sert, there doesn’t mm to ha —**■ profit in Mtriffc farming. a Frofeoflconai aanur. > Vmbs u jist the things;’ k> I went to work “See that old mar?” earn a companion and , “ m , r3e “° ed on , tlie . 8pot , th f. of the writer, aa he s'opped the horse aad wagon to let a curious figure on the long drive on the south Staten Island shore slip by. The individual in question waa bent way over and, when looking up sidewise, showed a remarkable physiognomy. A face blackened by exposure to the sun and distorted until all evidence of intelli gence seemed to have disappeared. Over the low forehead and sunken eyes hung great masses of tangled and matted hair, protected by a silk hat that was the origi nal type of the kind—a head covering so dented, worn, and shiny, that it seemed to be part of its owner. Tbe rest of the old man’s apparel was of tbe same lot and had a flavor of Evacuation Day. “He’s working the south beach,” con tinued my informant. “I’ve known him for years. Re’s mad on the subject of finding buried treasures, Captain Kidd, and what not. Looks as though he doesn’t know anything, but that’s where you would be mistaken. He is really a man of more than ordinary intelligence though outwardly an idiot I first met him on the Urine coast, where he was d.gging for same gold that he believed had been stowed away but whether he found any or not I don’t know. He has money I think to live on, or else he finds something to keep him going.” An hour later the writer and his com panion turned down a road that led to the south beach, and, walking up the beach, soon found the old hunter, who recog nized his acquaintance with a snort. “We meet kinder, as it were, cn tbe same lay,” be said, shutting up one eye; “but 1 know ye ain’t,” he continued, with a contortion that passed current as a laugh; “it don’t pay. What just started me out? Well, it’s hard to say. I m a Down-Easter, and where 1 was raised, on a creek that led up from the month of the Kennebec, about the first thing I kin remember was my father a-ploughin’ up a pot _nJ about $500. He bought a share m a schooner with it, and died leavin’ uuite a fortune, and the last words o’ sense he about said to me was, there was jest as much money buried as there was m circulation. ‘Where,’ said he, ’is all the money they used 500 years ago? It’s somewhere, that’s sartin.’ “Well, that put met to thinkin’, and I got a huntin’ on the the old farm and dug up another lot o’ stuff, and I’ve been at it ever since. You might wonder how 1 git my dues. Well, they comes in all sorts of ways. 1 had a partner once He was on a cute sort o’ lay. He worked it kin ter like this. He uted to saj: ‘The average thief has stowed something away, and can't git it until he gits out if he’s locked up.’ So he goes round to all the*prisons in the country pretendin' mat he was a minister of the Gospel, and ail the time a pumpin' the men. A good many said they had stnff stowed away, but wouldn’t trust him, and then he’d out with refer ences, and agree to get them out cf limbo for a share of the proceeds. “Well, you gentlemen would hardly be lieve it, but when 1 fust jioed him he had over fifty clues of buried stuff—plunder’s the. English of it. About one-third was generally bogus, but I gave it up; it was rakiu’ too many chances; cost too much. How so? Well, hire’s one. In a jail in Ohio the Preacher—that was tbe name he went by—struck a chap who was in for twenty years, and his itatement was that he’d been smugglin’ on the Canada line, and was arrested for manslaughter‘while bnngin’ over $50,000 worth of diamonds. There was five stones, and where do you suppose they were? The paper said they were plugged m the teeth of a Hamiltonian mare called Rose, that be’onged to a stableman m a little Canada town near the river. He'd hired her for the time. Well, we started after the marc, found the stableman^and he’d sold her to a farmer in a piace called Lincoln, Vermont. When we got there the man had sold her to a N«w York city dealer for a brood mare. His name was Smith, and he lived in New York north of 100th street. It took about two mouths to run him down, and when we did he’d sold the mare down in Jersey, ani there we found her. A sportin’ farmer hai her. She looked pretty bad, but we’d spent over $1,500 tracin’ her, and my pal tried to buy her. But the man wouldn’t sell, sc we had to breaa into the stable, and that put us into the grip of the law. But we won’t caught. Oh, nti! We got in all right, and 1 held the mare’s mouth open while he felt for tbe stones with a dark lantern. Every one was gone but one. The fillings had oil been broken off by the hit probably, and the stones hai dropped out or been swallowed; so we didn’t pay expenses. ‘The tooth dodge is tol’able, but the small-pox patient beats that. They never want to examine him. It’s bceu played all along tbe line. A3 I was Hayin’, 1 got out of this aad went on my own hook. Host every town has yarns or stories about buned things, and when 1 made np my mind there was any truth in it, 1 located what 1 thought was tbe spot and went to work.” But how do you locale the treasure? ’’ asked one of his listeners. “Well, that’s a secret of the trade,” was the reply. “It took me ten years to learn, and I reckon I won’t give it away in a minute. Sometimes I don’t locate it. Yes, I’ve struck some curious thins, especially in trees. Now there’s where it takes science. If you bide something in a hole in a tree, when it grows over it most always makes a bunch; sometimes it leaves a kind of a si t in the bars, and then a Over on Long Island I found an Indian hatchet in a tree that the owner had stuck in the bark and forget. An other time I found the skeleton of a man in a big willow. The man had either been stowed away in the bole or had climbed m and been struck by lightning or something. Anyway, the tree had grown over the old hole and completely covered the skeleton. No, gold’s scarce, though I have found coin in trees. ‘I’ve dug every cointy on the cowt from Maine to Florida,” he continued. •There's been more dlggin’ in Jersey lees found than in any Slate. Home (arms Has been salted, to my knowledge. I know an old bog of' a place, worth about $50. and one day a chap came along and paid $1,000 for it. How was it done? Wby, the owner bought up a lot of old coin, put it in an old box. and buried It. Then he bad a party dig it up and show tbe coin to some parties, who, thinking that there was mflra ’here, bought it up as soon as possible, and 1 reckon that old farm was well dug. “I’ye bad better luck,” said tbe old banter, ‘on tie Maine coast than any where. On sn—ntand, about s mile uouod. I made my best find. 1 was sailin’ among tbe- islands, snd seem’s little harbor I put in. and the first tiling that struck my fancy was two lane pecu liar trees, each having a huge branch that looked like aa arm, aad both platin' to i •put aboat fifty yisds away. Bays I to myarir, *it anybody ever landed here, and WMtedtoblde hay stuff, they’d look lor pints to lUfiiftr it by, wd thorn tbsre pmteil at, and dug trenches leadin’ out and around for about twenty toot, and after workin’ half a day. sure euough I struck a chest, the pick goin’ clean through. 1 worked it out careful, and thought my fortune was made; but, when I came to open the blamed thing, theie was nothing there but some old papers— deeds and the like, I reckon —all monldy, and not a word in them that you could make anything out of. I reckon they was valuable papers once.” “Yon said just now it was your best find,” said the reporter. “Worst 1 meant; mv worst it was,” said the old man—•*’ nothin but old papers. •’ “X beard you deposited over $5,000 in gold bars about that lime,” we continued. “I never saw $5,000 in my life,” re plied tbe old man, evidently somewhat confused. “You’ve go*, me mixed with another party. Yes, 1 know old Marble of Dungeon Hock. 1 ain’t seen him for years, and 1 reckon he’s dead. He thought the spirits told him that there was treasure in the rock back of Lynn, so he dug and blasted for twenty years or mote, and there’s a cave there now that’s a sight to see. They called him a crank, but,” and here the old man closed his wicked eye, “he bad horse sense enough to charge twenty-live cents to show folks around the cave, and they do say as how it paid.” A Hone Thiers Romance, Recently a romance was consummated away up iu the Adriondacks which, in tangled plot and novel details, claims fabulous Christmas tales that are just now being pnnted. The story is told by a man whi came to Gloversville from Sageville. Hamilton county. Fred Kodenck, a young man of 25 or 26 years, of burly frame, but with a certain manly charm m his rough ways, the Felling a Tree. The chopper down of trees iu the woods of Maine works upon bended knee. Before beginning to cut, he has looked to see which way the tree is in clined. For this he steps back a short distance to where he can see to its very top. If he is in doubt he lifts liis axe by the end of the helve and and lets it hang freely suspended. This gives him a plumb line by which he measures the inclination of the trd?. But it is not enough to determine in what direction the tree will fall most readily. It may be that large trees are standing right in the way of its falling on that side, and against these the tree will be lodged. It must be carried to one side or the other and herein consists one of the mysteries of woodcraft—the skill to guide a tree in its fall. II: will direct it with the greatest ease. Having decided where he wants it to go to avoid the risk of lodging against other trees, or being broken by falling on uneven ground, or to have it lie so that the logs will be convenient of removal, the chopper first undercuts the tree—that is he cuts upon the side toward which he will have it fall, and in such a manner that the line along which the tree is to lie. If the tree stands nearly perpendicular, and has no inclination to fall as he wishes, the chopper cuts a little beyond the heart oh that side. By doing thU he removes tho base when the tree is ready to fall, and rests upon a base o£ but an inch or two in breadth. The effect of this will be very mov ing the base so that the centre of grav ity will fall on the side desired. Though he works in so cramped a post ure, tne chopper cuts the stump so level and so smooth he thinks his little boy could spin his top upon it. Having undercut the tree with the son of a popular old guide up at Indian I greatest care, the wood mail now lake, has been confined in- Hto-LTimiUou' ^’• 1 ^S e3 his position a little, but re county jail at Ssgeville, for the pist tour five months, awaiting trial on the eharge of stealing a pair of horsei from a farmer of that county. Every Sunday afternoon the Kev. Arthur Chambers, the pastor of the Methodist church in the village, in company with a dozen or fif- een members of his congregation, holds a prayer-meeting and soag-meeting in the jail. For two years it has been the habit of Miss Agnes Aus'in, the young and by no means uncomely daughter of the village apothecary, to join the missionary band, and her sweet voice is credited with hav ing influenced many a tough-hearted pris oner to experience conversion. The first Sunday after Roderick’s arrest she became arqna’ntcd with him during the meeting, noticed without exciting remark that she was oftener in a side corridor doing indi vidual work with Prisoner Roderick, as the chaplain and his band thought, than at her customary post in the choir labor ing for the general salvation After a month or so, by permission of the Sheriff, she made special and irregular week-day Visits with the prisoner, assuring the jail attendants that her heathen was fast fall ing under the influence. Finally she be gan to neglect her Sunday work, but her week-day visits liecame more frequent This led to some little whispering among her deserted co-wurkers, but no general suspicion was aroused. mme five or six weeks ago Roderick confessed conviction at a Sunday meeting, giving at the same time hearty praise ami credit to the evangelizing efforts of Miss Austin. But this ODly bred envy in the several breasts of her deserted co-workers, and tongue after tongue began to wag until at every fireside in the community it was the chief topic discussed With the post-office loafers Aggie Austin’s name was in aa opprobrious sense connected with that of Fred. Roderick and all s >rts of reckless talk was indulged in. Mr. Austin vainly forbade his daughter from continuing her visits to the jaiL Tbe father then called on the sheriff, and in this way was more successful, for the visits were at once Interdicted. Two weeks ago Agaes disappeared from her home, and nothing was heard of her whereabouts until last Friday, when a constable came riding into Sageville with Agnes behind him. She was taken before the magistrate and sent to jail on the charge of stealing one of the very horses for the theft of which her lover was suf fering onfinement. Tbe constable said that she stole the horse in broad daylight, and when pursued made but a feeble at tempt to escape. Her story is that Fred told her to eo to bi3 father's camp and await his arrival, which would be as soon as an opportunity for estSpe presented itself. After waiting for him at the camp tor more than a week, she says, she be came desperate, and, resolving to join nim in the jail, site ran away from the camp with the deliberate intention of com* m.'.ti gonecime that won.d place her by bur 1 iver's side. Her stealing the same horse that Fred had once stolen, she as serts, was a simple accident Miss Aus tin's bail was fixed at $600, but she re fused to accept bondsmen and resume her liberty. On Friday morning Roder ick sent for the sheriff and informed him that he wished to wed Agnes Aus tin, wh-, when brought before the sheriff, declared a similar desire. The girl being 19 years old, and, therefore, of tbe legal age, the sheriff deemed it his duty to comply with their wishes, and the com mitting magistrate, Jarvis, was sum moned. At 3 o'clock m tbe afternoon, m the comflor of the jail, with the sheriff and two deputies as witnesses, the felon lovers were made one. The District Attorney unpoeticaliy declares that this moat remarkable-of Hymen’s consolidations will not hinder him from prosecuting the bride and groom on the separate indictments. He promises, how. ever, to try and bring both cases up at the same term of court and tims allow the pair to make their bridal journey together to tneir future mountain dome at Clinton prison. aiua‘». Senator Nye was not so particularly witty in debate, and the speeches of Procter Knott, McCreery or Sam Cox were funnier than his were; neither had he any Senatorial dignity whatever. He had, in its place, a vast store ot humor and genial humanity—better articles—that. broughtjhim in love all that he loBt in respect. Ho had more humor than wit, although many of his good things possessed the sharp scintil lations of the last-mentioned article, as when Horace Greeley sat down on the Senator’s new hat, and picking up the crushed stovepipe, he add, gravely: “1 could have told you it wouldn’t fit before trying it on.” Or when, at a dinner, emotional insanity was being discussed, he remarked: “I admit the right of the injured husband to vindi cate his marriage bed by murdering right and left, bat, after such vindie? tion, be should come out sod be hang^ like a gentleman, tor society hasarig to vindicate the lew. Wa most i monte between tbe rights of hash. ami hangman.” mtiins on the same side, rests on his other knee, and shifts hands, that is, wields the axe with the upper hand for ward. He now cuts upou the other side, leaving the stump two or three inches higher, accordiug as he wishes to gain advantage for the last few strokes. The work goes on with little concern until the base is no thicker than a plank and quite as even; then a blow is aimed full at the centre, and the chopper looks quickly at the top to note the effect. If he perceives a tremor iu the trunk, or if a bit of bark . or moss is loosened from Its hold, he knows how every stroke will tell, and he aims these with the greatest precis ion. Soon as ever the top bows to its fall he marks the direction in which it is moving. If he wishes to bring It more toward liim lie strikes a blow upon the farther edge; if to carry it farther Irom him, the blew is given upon the side that is nearer. Tuese last strokes need to be given with great nicety. If feeble, they will fail to effect their pur pose; if of too great force, the tree will be severed from the stump upou that side, and then all control of it is lost at once and ic plunges blindly forward. A tall tree like the pine is broken from the stump by a force acting quite dif ferently from that which is applied in the case of shorter trees. Iu Its de scent the piue acquires at its top a cen trifugal force so powerful as to lift the tree from the stump and carry it for ward live or six feet before it reaches the ground. When it does come to the earth the top and the butt strike at the same time, and the tree lies half buried in the snow. Sea-Green and Pink. “Practically speaking,” said a Fifth avenue modiste, “there is very little change in the fashions. Of course we are all the time getting in new dresses and wraps that are new in trimming and drapery, but the style remains the same, although they may look differ ently. “Here,” she continued, “is a dress for a debutante who is coming out in a few weeks at a magnificent ball given by her father. The dress is really a work of art. The long court train is made of cream white satin and has a niching of fine point applique lace abiut it. The front is a petticoat and entirely separate from the train. It is of soft China silk and is covered with lace ruffles graduated to the waist. The bndioe is entirely of point duchesse lace and is cut in a triangle in front ana made with very short sleeves. She is to have the front covered with tiny pink roses—natural ones, you know sewed on the evening she come3 out. ” “It is pretty enough tor a bridal dress,” said tbe reporter. “She will probably only wear it two or three times,’’said the modiste, “and if she goes auywere and dances in it there’s an end to it. Why, most of these wealthy people come home from one o f there F. C. D. C.’s or Patriarch balls with perhaps a $500 lace flounce all torn and a satin train costing $5 a yard, filled with dust and ruined. They do not seem to mind it, however, and that is well for us.” “What color is to be most fashiona ble for evening dresses?” asked the re porter. “Not any one color in particular. It was pink last year, but white was worn extensively, and will be also this winter. White always is fashionable, and some young ladies will wear nothing else. We make costumes for a young lady on Madison avenue who has all her house dresses, as well as evening dresses, made of white material. I do not think-she has more than four colored dresses, and two of those are of black velvet.” “Sea-green,” she continued, “corn flower blue and apple-blossom pink are, Iiowever, to be worn extensively. We are just making up a dress of the first and last named colors. The material is tulle, and the effect is beautiful. It is called a sunrise costume. The under dress is of the apple-blossom pink and is made plain with a Josephine waist, and over it is worn another dress of the filmy sea-foam green tulle, through which the pink is dimly seen. A girdle of silver confines It at the waist and claps of silver fasten the shoulders and sleeves, the dress being made with low neck and short sleeves.” A omrman triple): HiryarJ stu dent to Matthew Arnold—”We take great pride iu onr English auoestrj, Mr. Arnold.” Mr. Arnold- “Yon ought to; there is no better stock.” Harvard student—' *Bat I am glad the men of English blood are not so nsmaroos in this asuntry as they are in E lgland,” Mr. Arnold (somewhat contused)— “Why?” Harvard stnient—‘'Because the saving virtues, you know, abide with the minority.”