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THE SONC OF WHEAT.
I hail dreams when days were daScest—in the lonollness of night,
I was dreaming of the gleaming and the streaming of the light;
And the sod that whispered secrets to the blossom and the leaf
Bent mo shimmering, shining sunward to tho splendor of the sheafi
The winds that tossed my tresses sang of treasures manifold,
And dow and star and sunlight gave their glory to my gold;
And I hoard far rejoicing, and the tempest-flags were furled
Ami my golden banners rippled all niy riches round the world!
I heard the songs of cities, and In tho shadowed della
The ringing and the singing of all tho golden bells;
For I wove tho blue sky’s beauty, the sunlight and tho rains,
In an answer to the valleys and the pleading of'tlie plains.
I have sweetened fervid Summers, I have starred the Winter's snow
And gladdened homes with garlands, and made the hearth-lire glow;
And my story is my glory, and my triumph is complete—
They march beneath my banners, to tho thrilling song of wheat.
—Frank 1,. Stanton, in Chicago Timos-Herald.
Tiieir Wadding Tour.
——* —
Xiy Lisczns HYER NEFF.
MA’Y, oh, Miss
/, Jk Ma’y! Corae an’ see
V. r/7 B ca^e ’ Hit’s done
yj> M iced now,” called
Aunt Mexico from the
foot of the stairs.
IK L l Mary had just been
V/ trying on her gown
and veil in her room, but she ran
briskly down-stairs in response to the
summons, buttoning her wrapper as
she came, and followed Mexico into
the dining-room where the huge
bride’s cake stood in state on a small
table.
“O-li-h!” cried the girl, rapturously,
“I never dreamed you could do it like
that, Aunt Mex. Why, it must be
three feet tall! One, two, three—
there are seven cakes! And the icing.”
Mexico beamed with pleasure at the
result of her skill.
Mary gave Mexico’s fat arm an af
fectionate squeeze. “You’re a genius,
that’s what you are, you dear old soul.
I wish I could take you with me, to
morrow.”
“Po’cliile, I reckon yuh does,
honey. But, la, yore ma, she couldn’t
git used tuh no other cookin’ now, no
how'. An’ she might git one of them
no ’count yallah Jeffasons,”
“I’ll let you stay, auntie, if yonw'ill
work me one charm! I do want the
rain to stop. I don’t w’ant to be the
unhappy bride on whom the sun does
not shine. And the rain has come
down for so long. ”
“I ain’t no voudou, honey, an’ I
don’t know no spell fur de weather, no
way. But Ido hope hit will clear up
foh yore sake an’ all de res’. De rib
ber aiu’ gwine stan’ no mo’ foolishness
now r . I see de Bellflowah go down dis
mohnin’, look lak she walkin’ on top
de bank now.”
“Oh, dear!” cried Mary, running to
the front window. “I have been so
busy I haven’t looked out for three
days. How high the river is! There
is a flat-boat going down—on a level
with the bark! Oh, I wish it would
clear up! What if the boat couldn’t
make a landing to-night?”
9 “Well, honey, ef de ribber don’rise
no higher’n what it is now, dey won’
be no damage,” said Mexico, sooth
ingly, as she w alked away toward the
kitchen, with a last proud glance at
the white tower on the small table.
Mary stood at the window, with a
face full of alarm, watching the yellow,
turbid flood, that now and then
splashed over its hanks.
The young girl had never seen tha
river so high but once before, and she
rememberod that experience with bit
terness.
While she watched, a mud-spatted
equestrian galloped down the road and
stopped at the front gate, springing
from his panting horse and entering
hurriedly.
Mary met him at the front door.
“Why, Mr. Burnett!” she cried,
“what brings you here in such a hur
ry?”
“I came to give you the warning,
Miss Mary. The river’s on an awful
tear; risen two feet in thirty hours.
Cincinnati’s having a flood, and we’ll
have to get ready for the worst. It’s
going to rise here six feet, anyway,
and no telling how much more.”
“Oh, dear! And how soon?”
“Bight away. No, I thank you! I
must be going, for I promised to give
the warning at every house along the
river road. You’d better prepare for
a siege.”
“Tliauk you, thank you, Mr. Bur
nett, a thousand times. I hardly know
what to do about it. It is so sudden
—and so awful!”
“There’s more folks feels that a-way,
hut the ain’t a-waiting on them! Good
day to you,” and the visitor was gone,
leaving a pool of black water where
he had stood.
Two women were coming down-stairs
as Mary closed the door.
“Mother, Bettie, you don’t know
what an awful thing is going to hap
pen!” she said, with quivering lips.
“Yes, we hoard what he said, dear,”
replied the mother. “It is worse for
yon than any one else. If it would
only hold off until to-morrow, I could
be reconciled.”
“What shall we do?” wailed Bettie,
with white lips.
The mother sat down in the hall
chair and folded her hands. Bettie
went to the parlor window and looked
at the river. She gave a frightened
cry, and: “It's coming over the bank
now! Oli. mamma, what shall we do?”
Mrs. Galt went to the window and
turned away instantly.
“We must do something at ones,”
she said, desperately. “I will send
Mose to the quarry for some men to
lift the furniture.”
It did not take Mose long to bring
men from the quarry cabins, for they
had been idle for two day on account
of the flood in the quarry.
Then the pleasant wide rooms of the
old-fashioned house, now decked out
in holiday attire for the weeding, pre
sented a scene of vandalism distress
ing to the hearts of those who had
worked so hard to arrange them. The
heavy carpets were ruthlessly torn up,
the piano was hoisted upon wooden
chairs, the dining-table was extended
to its full length, and piled with ear
pets and furniture half way to the ceil
ing. The kitchen stove was carried
up-stairs and set up in a bedroom.
Within half an hour the house was
unrecognizable. As Mary came through
the hall with a pile of hooks in her
arm, there was a vigorous clang of the
old knocker, and then a young man
entered.
“Oh, George!” she' exclaimed, put
ting her books on the stairs, “isn’t it
awful!”
He took her in his arms and kissed
her troubled face before he replied:
“But we shall be married just tho
same, my darling. Wo still have each
other. Now, what can I do to help
you? We cannot spare a minute until
everything is safe.”
“I think we need wood for the fires
and the cook stove upstairs the most
of anything now,” she said, gathering
up her books.
The young man started back through
the house, but before his footsteps
ceased to sound on tho bare floors, a
thin stream of water crept nnder the
front door and flowed down the hall.
Before Mary had reached the top stair
there was a sound as of waves lapping
on the door, and ten minutes later a
soft swish upon the low window panes
showed the insidious flood rapping for
entrance. In a few minutes the family
had to retire to an upper room to escape
tile water on the lower floors, and there
they sat in grave council over the sud
deu change of affairs.
“There is only one thing certain in
this state of things,” said George
Campbell, and that is, that there must
lie a wedding here to-night. It is bad
luck to put off weddings, and we don’t
want to begin life that way. ”
“And will you send for the minis
ter?” asked Mrs. Galt.
“Where are your boats?”
“Oh, we forgot them! They are
tied at the boat-house—if they are not
washed away. Why didn’t we think
to have them brought over to the
house?”
“But who thought it was going to
rise so fast ?” groaned the mistress.
There was sjtill a great deal to do,
and the water, after breaking the em
bankment, which was a low one,
seemed to stand at a depth of two feet
in the house. The men eould get
about iu it with rubber boots, and
were hard at work preparing for the
worse. The farming implements must
he hoisted above danger, and food for
the cattle must be secured. A bridge
of planks was made downstairs for the
women, and they were soon busy
carrying their household goods to the
upper floor. There was an old, dim
lino on the outside of the house,
almost coincident with the ceil
ing, that marked the line of the
greatest flood on record, hut that
was forty years before. The occasional
freshet had never since gone higher
than the hall wainscot—about three
feet. The afternoon wore slowly away,
and toward evening Mary saw a num
ber of buggies laden with guests for
her wedding come down the hillside
road, stop at the sight of the yellow
flood that rushed with swift current
over the river road, then turn aud re
trace their way to the safe highlands
from which they came. George had
gone for the minister, and an upper
front chamber had been made as at
tractive as its superabundance of fur
niture would allow, for the wedding,
but no guest came, and when six
o’clock struck, George had not re
turned. The three women sat down
forlornly to the hot supper that Mexico
spread on the top of an ancestral chest in
the back hall, but Mary was so anxions
about her lover that she could not cat.
After supper they sat at the front wiu
dows and watched the signs of destruc
tion that began to float down the river.
At nine o’clock they lay down with
dread misgivings, but until nearly
midnight there was no sound but the
washing of the water against the walls,
and the bumping of loose planks from
the bridge in the hall against the
wainscot.
At midnight someone shouted for
Mrs. Galt, and she answered from the
window. To her surprise he seemed
to be very little below her own level.
“Hello!” said the visitor, and it was
George’s voice. “I have been helping
up at the landing. is un
der water there, and the folks are
moving up to the hill. They will have
to camp out. We took the sick folks
up to the stone school-house and fixed
them as well as we could. Don’t you
think you had better go up to your
sister on the ridge? I have a boat
here, and the water is going to he
higher than it was ever known to be
before. ”
“Oh, no, we are safe here, and we
have plenty of everything. We must
stay by the place and the stock,” said
Mrs. Galt. “The water has come up
fast, though. We were worried about
you. Aren’t you coming in?”
“1 don’t see how I eait. The water
is over the front door and not up to
the veranda roof. Are the hurst's tied
in the stable? They are making h
good deal of noise.”
“I supoose they are. Do yon think
the water lias reached them?”
“I will go and see,” said the young
man, and he paddled away.
Mrs. Galt remained nt the window,
looking with alarm at the rapidly ris
ing water. A man in a queer little
craft crept in over the front yard.
“Sistor Galt!” he called.
“Why, brother Meeks, is that you?”
she answered.
“Yes, sister. I remember about the
wedding, but at that hour we were all
so busy in fighting the water that I
could not come. This is the first mo
ment that I have had. Are you all
safe?”
“Oh, yes, aud very comfortable. We
could not hav# the wedding yet. It.
was a cruel timo for this calamity to
come, bnt. I suppose we never could
And the right time for misfortune. ”
George came around the house at
this moment, and was greeted by the
minister. “All, Mr. Meeks, you are
just the man we want. Now it is not
quite midnight, and if we can get the
bride to appear, we shall be married
yet to-day. Can you climb a post?”
“I am afraid not, under such disad
vantages, But I can sit here and per
form the ceremony if you and the
young lady will come to the edge of
the roof,” said the minister.
George tied his boat to tho corner
column of the. veranda, and began to
climb to the roof. The girls had been
aroused by the voices, and were ready
to appear when he reached the top.
“I let the poor horses out,” he said
to Mrs. Galt. “They were up to their
necks in water, and would have been
drowned by morning. They can swim
to the mountain now. The fences
won’t trouble them. Now I want to
make sure of my wife before anything
olse happens. Come, Mary, hero is
tho minister,” and he drew her gently
'out upon the flat roof. Her mother
and sister followed, aud tho young
pair went to the edge where they could
see Mr. Meeks. He had been unable
to find a boat, and had made the peril
trip in a horse trough, where ho now
sat rooking on tho high waves of the
flood.
The sky was heavily overcast with
clouds; there was no light save a lamp
in the window; tho stanch old house
was rocking alarmingly, but the voice
of the clergyman was none the less im
pressive as he pronounced the marriage
ceremony over the young couple bend
ing above him, and before the clock
within struck twelve they were man
aud wife.
It was not a joyous wedding nor
were there there attendant festivities,
but the young husband drew liis wife
to his side with a whispered sentence,
that made her feel that she had a pro
tector in this hour of disaster. The
rain began to fail again and Mrs. Galt
insisted that Mr. Meeks should try to
enter and stay until daylight. Ac
cordingly he paddled around to the
woodshed roof and climbed over it and
through the kitchen attic, the water
having risen within a few minutes so
much that this was easily accom
plished. Mexico had made a pot of hot
coffee, and had an appetizing lunch
ready for the tired and hungry adven
turers. She had carried up the abundant
delicacies that had been provided for
the wedding, and she served some of
these things now, saying that this was
the only wedding supper the young
folks would have. For a few minutes,
in the warmth and cheer and lively
talk, the dread situation was forgotten,
but a crash below, a lingering,resonant
crash, called everyone’s attention.
“It’s the piano, ” said Mrs. Galt. “It
has been floating for a long time, and
now it. has bumped the ceiling. It
crashed into the big mirror some time
ago.”
“Then everything down-stairs is
ruined,” said Bettie.
“Oh, yes,” returned her mother,
calmly. “The only thing I ask now
is to have our lives spared.”
A hoarse, deep whistle rent the air
very near the house, and the group
looked wonderingly at each other.
“It is the boat going up,” said
George, “and she has come over here
to avoid the current. It is fearfully
swift in the river.”
The lights of the boat had a friendly
look as they passed, and for the time
the feeling of desolation passed, but
soon the darkness was unrelieved
again. A few minutes later a great
wave dashed against the house, that
swayed it back and forth, and sent the
enps on the impromptu table spinning
to the floor. The little party looked
at one another, with a white panic in
each face. Could it mean—another
wave struck them, and the room
tipped slightly backward, the occu
pants catching wildly at any
thing in reach, as they slid toward the
wall. The third wave came, the last
from the passing steamboat—the house
wavered, tipped forward, then careen
ed, and turned upon one side.
“To the roof! To the roof! Quick,
before she gets out into the current!”
shouted George, catching Mary and
Bettie in his arms, as they were thrown
in a heap against the bureau. The
lamp had gone out in its fall, but the
stove was overturned and its door had
fallen open, though none of the brands
bad yet fallen out.
It was a wild struggle for the next
few minutes, as the bewildered in
mates groped in the dark for the roof
ladder, amliiuding it by pure accident,
for no one knows where to look for
familiar objects in a house that has
turned on its side, the panic-stricken
people climbed out and clung to the
railing along the ridge of the roof.
Fortunately the house was drawn
out into the current, but gently wab
bled down the road, lodging occasion
ally in it tree top or bumping against
a building that stid stood on its founda
tion. As it tilted from side to side the
■furniture slid across the slanting floor
with an ominous crash. Filially, af
ter an hour or two, the building
righted itself so that tlie shivering
occupants, who had no time to protect
themselves against the rainy March
night, could sit in the flat square in
side the railing of the roof. Mary
clung tightly to her husband, who was
the light and courage of the party.
After they had gotten over the first
shock of tlieir disaster, George tried
to encourage tin- timid ones by assur
ing them that they were in no immedi
ate danger, and that when daylight
came they would surely be rescued.
“The ri'ver has been rising fast above
and spreading over the bottoms,” lie
explained, “and when it was crowded
into our narrow valley it rose into this
110 id. As soon as we get down to the
Point at Peiiuyj'ackei’s Bend, where
there is a wide flat, we shall most
likely strand, and we can soon be res
cued! I know everybody at the bend,
anyhow. My Uncle George owns the
liole place.”
“I think those lights ahead are
from Peunypaeker’s now,” said Mr.
Meeks.
“I don’t think we can have drifted
so far as that,” replied George, “al
though the current is swift even here.
But we are sure to be in sight of the
binding by daybreak. I think we
are riding so steady now that I
might go down into tlie rooms and
1 get the women some shawls. Where
I would I find something, Mstry?”
‘ “Oh, uo, no! Stay right hfre. We
shall surely go under if you leave ns,”
oried both girls. "And you never
could find anything, anyhow.”
“I know what I can find, then, and
that is the bedclothing. I can pull it
off the beds. Some good quilts would
be a great comfort.”
George was not a person to wait for
the execution of any plan, so it was
but a few minutes until each member
of the group was wrapped in a warm
blanket.
“I don’t know but wo might ns well
all he drowned,” whispered Mrs. Galt,
“for I don’t know how we’ll live if wo
don’t. Everything is swept away.”
“We haven’t lost the house yet,”
said George, cheerily.
“Nor have wo any of us lost our
faith in God yet,” said the minister,
who had lost no opportunity to admin
ister consolation and cheer through
that fearful ride. “Don’t you see the
light of the dawn, over behind the
hills?”
The tired family eagerly watched
the pale light as it revealed the river
broadened to a lake, and filled with
the wrecks of other homes, tho bodies
of horses and cattle, large trees that
had been torn up by the roots, and
now and then a ghastly something
passed them that had yesterday been
a human being.
And then, just before them, not
half a mile away, the long arm of
Pennypacker’s Point reached out into
the river as if to intercept them.
“Your uncle’s house is high and
dry,” said Mrs. Galt, looking at the
great brick house that crowned the
spur.
“Yes,” returned George, “and we
shall get there in time for breakfast.
There is a boat going into the landing,
tho Ben Morgan, I think. Now, when
she starts out she will come round this
way to avoid the ripple, and the waves
she makes will beach us pretty near
the landing. After that we are all
right.”
Every one was now too intent in
watching their uncertain progress to
talk. The Ben Morgan made her
stop at the submerged landing, pulled
out, aud after a disappointing start
out toward the current, pointed her
nose into the still water of the little
hay. A high wave left her beak and
the castaways held their breath in
suspense as they watched its curve
coming toward them.
It rolled nearer and nearer and dis
appeared under the house. The build
ing rose on its swell, rocked unstead
ily, careened—and rode in to the
shore! When the third wave had come
aud receded, the voyagers found that
'they were once more on terra firma,
and in less than eight feet of water.
“Thank the Lord!” exclaimed Mrs.
Galt, with the first tears that she had
shed streaming down her cheeks.
“Now we are sure of our lives at any
rate. ”
George was wildly waving his red
and greeti quilt as a signal to some
one at the landing, who immediately
put off in a boat, and who recognized
George as lie came within speaking
distance.
“It is my cousin, Henry Penny
packer,” said George. “Hello, Hen
ry, how are you?”
“What are you running off with
that house for?” shouted Henry.
“I’m on my wedding tour,” re
turned George, as he drew near.
“We’ve just come down for breakfast
with you in our own conveyance. If
yon can shin the post, I will come down
to the second floor. Come, all of
you, we are safe now; we can go down
to the rooms again.”
The bed-rooms presented a strange
conglomeration of furniture, clothing,
firewood, food, dishes, books and bed
ding which had slid from side to side
of the rooms until they were hope
lessly blended. The girls found a
few toilet articles, and made a very
presentable appearance. Henry Pen
nypacker was deiighted to meet his
new relatives, and invited them over
to the house in a most cordial manner.
George’s boat was now hanging from
the veranda roof beside Brother
Meeks’s horse trough, and these, with
Henry’s boat, served to carry tbe
party over to tbe hospitable home
that was open to them, and where
their kind reception put them quite
at ease. Henry sent out a man with
a stout cable to tie the house to a tree,
that the next passing boat might
not float it away, and then the visi
tors were invited to a royal breakfast.
They recounted the uiglit’s exper
ience to tiie hosts, George Campbell
ending tbe story with: “After all, we
are rich beside our neighbors who
have lost all. We have only to tow
our bouse back and begin again, for,
thank the Lord, there are none of us
missing. And I’m sure that, though
we hadn’t a wedding reception, we had
a wedding tour!”—The White Ele
phant.
lii h Lone Island.
Peter W. Green is tlie veteran chief
of the lonely island, Tristan d’Aeunha,
in the South Atlantic, and has saved
a number of lives during the last
sixty years. Thirty years ago the
Duke of Edinburgh visited this island
and was carried ashore by Peter
Green. Some months ago Queen Vic
toria sent the old man her picture.
To quote the words of Peter, “Such a
picture never came to Tristan before.
The height of the frame is nearly font
feet, the breadth is nearly three feet,
and the crown is on the top, all beau
tifully carved and gilded.” The aged
recipient of Her Majesty’s gift has just
written to an old friend in London,
Mr. G. Newman, of Woodgreen, to
ask him to be kind enough to go and
thank Her Majesty, “as a kind mah
speaking to a very kind Queen.”
Alflit'in.v Hivivftl.
One would think that in this aga fit
enlightenment the theory of the trans
mutation of metals had long ago been
assigned to oblivion and history, but
recently Dr. D. K. Tuttle, melter and
refiner of the United States Mint of
Philadelphia, lias been called upon
officially to investigate a proposed
process for transmuting a base metal
into gold. The investigation, of
course, proved the fallacy of the al
leged discovery, but disclosed the
interesting circumstance that practi
cally all the product 'sold as “pure’’
antimony by the best known chemical
bouses, contains distinct traces cf
gold.—San Francisco Call
Six Tomatoes, Fourteen Pounds.
Plus Payne, a colored man of Bards
town, Ky., has exhibited six toma
toes grown by him, which together
weigh fourteen poupdjf, -• ...
ONE MAN’S ENTERPRISE
AND THE REMARKABLE TRANSFOR
MATION IT BROUGHT ABOUT.
.1 Finn Farm at the Bottom of >i Hole in
Idaho—Waste Land That Han Been
Turned Into a 420 Arre Paradise—
A Curious Hoad to the Bottom.
A hole has been transformed into a
veritable paradise. “A hole in the
ground” is what most poople called
the place before Perine began his work
of transformation. Some, with wider
flow of language, called it tho “Devil’s
Corral.” It is on Snake River, iu
southern Idaho, twenty miles south of
the little town of Shoshone, aud five
miles down the river below the Great
Shoshone Falls. The “hole” is abont
7110 feet deep, and embraces 000 or 800
acres of bottom surface.
For ages and ages this “Devil’s Cor
ral” has just been staying there, silent,
ghastly, unknown. The pre,historic
people, aud, I fancy, the Indians of
later date, passed around it when fish
ing along the Snake River. The more
daring white man looked at it, gave it
a name, and made money out of other
white men by bringing them along to
see it. One adventurous personage,
about a half-white man, decijled that
down in the depths of this great basin
beside the river there ought to be gold.
Accompanied by an Indian wife or two
and half a dozen children, he clam
bered down, located a mine and began
to work it. His progress is not worth
recording.
Burt Perrine, a young man from In
diana, seeking his fortune in the west,
came out to see the Great Shoshone
Falls and to see this Satanic corral. He
clambered down the cliff to where the
miner was. He was not impressed by
the mine, but he was impressed by the
situation and general appearance of
this rock-walled basin. His first
thought was: “The north wind can
never find its way down here. This
place ought to be transformed into a
ranch or a truck garden or a fruit
farm.”
Upon closer examination he found
that if the rocks were rolled out of the
way, and the miscellaneous bushes
around were grubbed up and burned,
there would he several hundred acres
of very choice soil. In the highest
parts of this big basin he discovered,
connected together, two glorious cold
water lakes. They were forty to fifty
feet deep, and they two covered about
an acre of space. They were as clear
as crystal, as bine as the sky above
them, with white sand glistening in
the bottom, and very lively trout of
the mountain sort darting through
them. From these lakes the entire
basin could easily be irrigated.
Against the undertaking was the al
most incalculable amount of work nec
essary to clear and level and irrigate
the land; the uncertainty as to what
the winters that brought snow six feet
deep over all the plains above might
do down here, and the possible power
of the north wind to find its way down
aftet all. As an additional menace to
the undertaking, there stood giant lava
walls, towering above from 500 to 800
feet, and sloping from an angle of
seventy degrees to a straight perpen
dicular.
He went away and advised with his
friends about it. They told him he
was crazy. Without exception, they
laughed at the idea of putting this
great “hole in the ground” to any
useful purpose. They said that even
the solitary miner was half-witted or
he wouldn’t try to get gold dust out of
there. But he decided to put his
opinions to the test, and bought out
the claim of the miner so as to have
all the hole to himself. He surveyed
the place, and found that it contained
420 acres that could be worked or re
claimed. He homesteaded a part of
the land and made a desert entry of
the balance.
Then he began the work of transfor
mation. He managed to blaze out
along tbe rocky descent a trail down
which pack animals could travel, aud
it may be well to remark just here that
the little mules aud the little burros
used in this country can almost climb
a tree or walk into a well. To do the
work necessary down in this corral,
Mr. Perrine had to have wagons, scrap
ers, harrows, plows, powder and dyna
mite and all sorts of things to work
with that even pack animals couldn’t
carry. These had to ha letdown with
ropes over a perpendicular lava wall
of 600 feet. They were so let down.
Think for a few little moments of the
care and work that this required.
But to get a road up that TOO feet of
miscellaneous precipice was the puzzle.
Perrine had done some surveying and
a little railroad engineering back in
Indiana, and he thought he could
build a road here. By the use of much
dynamite, more powder, all the arts of
removing rock that wouldn’t be re
moved, and a paradoxical amount of
persistent work, the road was graded
and built. It does much winding in
and out, up and down, back and forth,
aside and across, and at a general
glance it has more the appearance of a
stairway than of a road. Yet two-horse
and four-horse teams easily travel it,
and the traffic that goes up it and
down it. is a marvel to the beholder.
Going down this road excites a very
pleasing feeling. One cannot see
more than twenty steps ahead. Now
the horses seem approaching a rocky
wall; now a yawning precipice. Sud
denly, without any warning whatever,
the wagon halts almost perpendicularly
above the beautiful Blue lakes. One
could dive into them, so straight are
they below, but. it would He a dive of
several hundred feet, and it is a ride
of several hundred winding yards to
get beside them. These are queer
lakes. They are filled by subterranean
springs. Except that which is piped
out for irrigation purposes, their water
is discharged through subterranean
caverns. The water in the lakes re
mains at the same level all the
time. It remains, every minute of the
year, without regard to seasons, at tho
same temperature —sixty degrees. In
honor of them, this place is not known
any more as the “Devil’s Corral,” but
is called instead “The Blue Lakes.”
The “Devil’s Corral” is now a 420-
acre paradise, blooming into life with
5000 fruit trees and not a forbidden
tree among them. The luscious fruit
is a continual joy and a lifetime for
tune to its owner, and a source of
pleasure aud admiration to visiting
thousands.
The 5000 fruit trees include prunes,
pe.tches, pears, apples, nectarines, be-
sides strawberries, grapes and water
melons, each producing with rarest
flavor a great abundance of its kind.
While the snow on the plains above is
six feet deep for several months of
every year, the fruit trees here have
never been known to suffer from the
cold. During the winter months noth
ing but sleighs can be driven over the
plains above, but only wheeled vehicles
can be driven in this place and down
tho road leading to it.
His pretty little cottage, nestling
among the trees down by the riverside,
is a thing of comfort and beauty.
Within fifty yards of the house he can
catch in half an hour more mountain
trout than his family can eat in a day.
Now that the place is iixod up, to keep
it up is little more than a matter of
play. To live like a lord upon it and
to gradually lay up a fortune is no
problem at all. With this sort of
a place, with a charming wife, a beau
tiful little girl and a bright little boy,
it seems that this young man from In
diana, who came to seek his fortune in
the West, has gotten about as much as
this good world cau offer.—Washing
ton Star.
JOB FOR A PAINTER.
(iforffio Kxplalns lo llis Uncle Fred Hu,
Accident That Church the Demand.
Dear Uncle Fred: Paw painted part
of our stable day Before yistady. He
would a painted it all if it Hadent a Bin
for a accident.
When He got About throo Bonrds
painted maw come out to see How he
was gitten along and when she looked
at Him she says:
“I thot you was agoin to paint the
Stable.”
Paw was up on a ladder and he
stopped and looked at Her like if He
diden’t no What she ment. Then He
says:
“Well, ain’t I painten it? If you
Dont like this Here job, mebby you
Better take Hold and finish it your
self.”
“Oh, you’re doin all rite,” says
maw, “only it seems to me it would
Bea little Better if you’d git more
paint on the Barn and not quite so
mutch on yourself.”
“Huh!” paw growled. “I s’pose
yon Think that 111 ame funny, don’t
you. Why I seen that old gag in The
papers twenty years ago.”
“Oh not that long ago,” says maw.
“Why not?” Paw ast.
“Becos you never read the Papers,
then,” says maw. “It’s only since we
Got married and I want to Be Sociable
or they’s somethin you ought to Do
around the House that you git so Bizzy
readen papers you Don’t Have no Time
for anything else.”
“That’s What Thanks a feller gits,”
Pa says, “for tryin to Do things. If
you told the truth, How does it Come
I’m Up Here now?”
Paw was tickled by that shot and He
kind of Whirled around on one foot to
See How maw was agoin to Take it.
But the ladder give a slide, and Down
she Went with Paw hollerin ter Maw
to ketch the Blame Thing.
Maw she jist yelled and run away,
and paw Come Down kersmash on the
Paint Bucket, and upset it, aud the
stuff run all over His neck and nearly
smothered Him Before He Could git
untangled out of the ladder.
We was all purty scared. But it
Dident Hurt him much, so when we
was leaden Him into the House he says
to maw:
“Well, I Hope you’re Happy now.
You Coulden’t a stayed in the House
Where you Belonged because they
wasen’t nobody in there to make your
tongue waggle. I s’pose the only thing
you’re Sorry about is that I diden’t
Git my neck Broke.”
Maw she Diden’t say a word. I
Gess She must a Beeii purty full of
remorst.
They’s a Job Here fer some painter
now. Georgie.
—Cleveland Leader.
liiveting by Machinery.
In regard to riveting with com
pressed air the master mechanic of the
Santa Fe road is quoted as saying that
by the use in the Santa Fe shops of a
stationary riveting machine three men
are enabled to drive 2000 rivets per
day of teu hours at a cost of $4.75, as
compared with 200 rivets per day at a
cost of $7 by hand labor; the truck
riveters—the machine being operated
by two laborers at a total cost of $3
per day—drive 3000 rivets, as com
pared with 175 rivets driven by hand
labor by three men iu a day at a cost
of SC, while the staybolt breaker makes
an average saving of $3 per day, and
the tank riveter an average daily sav
ing of $lO. Further, the mud-ring
riveters will drive as many rivets as
can be handed to them, and will make
a saving of sl2 to sls a day for that
class of work. Not only is this method
credited with the great saving named,
says the New York Sun, but is de
ed ired to insure every rivet hole being
filled entirely and insures tight work,
while of hand-driven rivets in mud
rings a large percentage invariably
leak.
Mennonite CourtHhlp.
When a brother in the church wants
to marry a sister, he does not make
his wish known directly to her, but
goes to the minister and tells him his
secret. The minister, if pleased with
the match, carries the lover’s message.
The sister is usually surprised, as this
is supposed to be her first intimation
of the young man’s love. If the pro
posal is received with favor, the nego
tiations are carried on by the minister.
The ceremony always takes place in a
church. No invitations are issued,
lc.it the banns are proclaimed from the
pulpit t.vo weeks beforehand. During
this period the groom is permitted to
visit his intended without the inter
vention of a third party. After tiie
wedding a dinner is always served,
after which bride and groom go to
there respective homes, aud remain
apart for several days. The mar
riages in the church are generally
happy ones, and there is no record of
any of the members ever suing for di
vorce.—Philadelphia Record.
A Forgotten Letter Mailed.
A Virginia man the other day mailed
a letter which was given him iu 1865
to mail, when he was a prisoner at
Point Lookout. In looking over some
papers he found the letter and wrote
to the Sheriff' of Anson County to
know if the man to whom it was ad
dressed was alive. The Sheriff' replied
yes, and strange to relate, was in his
office when the letter of inquiry came.
The letter was sent in the original
envelope.
POPULAR SCIENCE.
The colors of the different races de
pend upon the pigment iu the epider
mis, especially iu its deeper strata.
Lima. Peru, is to have a supply of
electricity for lighting and other pur
pose from a power plant on a stream
several miles away.
A 110 horse-power dynamo and sev
eral motors to use tbe power it- gen
erates have been ordered from an
American mannfactnrre for some car
shops iu Nagoya, Japan. This is -aid
to he the first plant of its kind in Asia,
D. Macfarlane Moore, of Newnr-.,
who has given several public and pri
vate exhibitions of bis vacuum tc ;
light, is now talking of trying to film -
inate a street, by stringing a chain of
• these tubes from pole to pole like an
overhead trolley wire
|)r. Keller opened tbciut.--tines of a
huge number of spiders and found
that they are voracious enemies of the
most noxious insects. According *■(
his idea spiders are more beneficial to
the maintenance of forests than all t 1 ■;
insect-eating birds put together.
So distinguished an electrician is
Silvaults P. Thompson,of London, au
thor of a standard textbook which lies
been iu use many years, expresses i
hope that Marcomi’s system of tele
graphing without wires may prove
available for communication across the
Atlantic.
About two hundred electric brain--
are iu service on street cars in Dres
den. Some of them are on “trailer "
aud some on the motor cars. They un
equally adapted to both. In Berlin
the motors themselves are made to act
as brakes by the use of switches which
“short-circuit” the motors. Both sys
tems are said to he very efficacious ami
much superior to the ordinary hand
brake.
The Union Elevated Railway lorn
in Chicago for tbe exchange of pnssci.
gers by four different lines bus now
been completed, and is likely to go in
to service immediately. Three com
panies had, at last accounts, signed the
rental contract, but the South Side or
“Alley” company still holds off. ft
will be several months before its roll
ing stock is equipped with electric mo
tive apparatus. The other lines have
been using electricity for years.
The conjunction of Jupiter and Hat
turn to take place November 2s. 1001,
will be the closest auv person now
living will see. A British astronomer
states that these planets will approach
within about 26 minutes of arc, re
maining within 32 iniuntes for six
days. They will he evening stars,and
38 degrees from the sun. The only
closer conjunction since the invention
of the telescope was 11 minutee in 1683,
and no other as close will occur until
2002.
The Ajce of Deer.
Romance has played a prominent
part with regard to the longevity of
deer, says a writer in Chambers’s
Journal. What says the Highland
adage?
Thrice the age of a dog is that of a
horse,
Thrice the age of a horse is that of a
man,
Thrice the age of man is that of a
deer,
Thrice the age ot a deer is that of an
eagle,
Thrice the age of an eagle is that of an
oak tree.
This is to assign the deer a period
or more than 200 years; and the esti
mate is supported by many highly cir
cumstantial stories. Thus, Captain
Macdonald, of Tulloch, who died in
1776, aged eighty-six years, is said to
have known the white hind of Loeh
Treig for fifty years; his father for a
like period before him, and his grand
father for sixty years before him. So.
in 1826 Macdonald, of Glengarry, is
reported to have killed a stag which
bore a mark on the left ear identical
with that made on all the calves he
could catch by Ewee-Maclan-Og, who
had been dead 150 years. Analogous
stories, it may be noted, are told in
countries on the Continent of Europe,
where deer are to be found in any
number. But, alas! the general opin
ion among experts would seem to be
that thirty years or thereabout is the
limit of a deer’s life.
Handed by Hi* Friends.
At Ballarat, Australia, a ruined gold
miner once committed suicide in a
dramatic manner. During the time
of the gold rush a certain deserted
claim was for years held sacred, and
the tools strewn about the windlass
were left to rust away untouched. A
party- of ’varsity men, old school fel
lows and of gentle birth, had sunk
their shaft there and worked without
success until their money was spent.
One evening one of them at work at
the bottom of the shaft shouted,
“Haul up, boys, the time is come at
last.” They hauled up, and when it
came to the top they found their com
rade’s lifeless body banging from the
chain. He had detached the bucket,
tied a noose abont his neck, fastened
the noose to the chain, and was hanged
by his dearest friends. The party
had been much liked and respected
by the other miners, who would read
ily have subscribed 1000 ounces of
gold dust to give them a fresh start,
but ere the dawn of the next day the
whole party had disappeared, leaving
their claim in the same state as it lay
at the time of the tragedy.—London
Telegraph.
Lead Uullelß Hade 4S Hard a* Sleol.
Charles W. Bales, a chemist, and
Edward Jerry, a surveyor of this city,
have discovered a secret solution by
whieli they coat leaden bullets, ren
dering them superior to steel-cased
bullets. The ordinary leaden bullets,
when used in the King-Jorgensen rifle,
have been found to be too soft, and
the lead has clung to the barrel of thy
rifle until the 1 nirrel was finally clogged,
and the steel cartridges which have
succeeded the lead ones have eventu
ally torn the barrel. These cartridges
do neither.
Messrs. Bates and Jerry succeeded
iu procuring some of the smokeless
powder used by tiie Government in the
Krng-Jorgensen rifles and have made
numerous experiments witli their curt
ridges. At a distance of thirty yards
they bored a hole through an axe blade
and also through a flatiron. In the
latter ease the bullet lodged in a tree,
entering a distance of six inches. They
will now offer to sell the Government
the bullets coated with the secret pre
paration. Hue Francisco Chronicle.