Newspaper Page Text
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Wntrhmnn. Gat. IM4
C ,r*«tcle, Bet. 18TT.
| Graatlidated with the
| Athene Banner, Bet. 1883.
ATHENS. GA.,' TUESDAY MORNING. MARCH 15,1892.
PRICE FIVE CENT
THE YOUNG SKIPPER.
We were needed.
“Bine Fin made a pretty dart. He I
hurled his first iron about rix feet aft
“Is that the chap we shipped under? ^° w an d the other he planted
Why, he hasn't grown a beard yet?” i m tlie h®By as the fellow rolled. It was
“Nevertheless he is the skipper of this 1 a Wow, but before the whale be-
eraffc,, and a right sinart one, too, as to spout blood he brought his flakes
von'll find ont if you cruise many months ; aroa ? d ’ caught the boat before the boyB i _
aboard of her.” ' could bock out of the way and stove on the P°hshed floor the light from the
“That may be, but I’d rather see a ^ er *° P'oces. We pulled in and picked wood fire danced merrily between the
man on the quarter deck than a boy.” i f* 16 ersw. I grabbed the 'old man’ | reflections of the furniture; the lace
“What’s tlio difference, f* '—
mrm -r . TT _„ T _____ , ___ i She went over to the piano, and smil-1
THE LAUREL WREATH fa e ^conscious of sacrilege,!
I picked with her plump little hand the I
, T . _ ,, „ . last leaf from the Virgilian wreath. 1
•• r T aPPy * 831,1 Mart Antony, j wa8 horror stricken, but Mark Antony
perfectly happy.” j seemed utterly indifferent; he was evi- .
As he spoke I glanced around the com- dently accustomed to see his former
A LITTLE BLUE CAP.!
fortable room in which we were sitting; glory absorbed in stews..
A quartet of an hour later I thought
if the boy has | WM Bring down, and when I curtains hung white and soft, with here
a man a head on his shoulders? It ; 4 U P 1 that ha was hurt’ and there a rent skillfully darned be-.
isn’t alyrays those who have lived the i if,, 1 ? and w . as unconscious. He was tween a leaf and flower, wnile beyond
' Y fnghtfnl mann#r and the curtains was seen the neatly trimmed
7.% !! COVered : garden hedge.
lannrS SSSSi ™ Then as I looked at my friend, stout,
from fl. 70 and angling, and reraemhered
^ I , 1 ?r? WS7 L WlDl9 ** what hc ** heen when I saw him laste-
nsh that had killed him Was moored
no more of it, for we sat down to din
ner, and the stew, with its slight savor
of laurel, was indescribably delicious.—
Translated by Isabel Smithson for Uo-
longest in this world that know the
most, as I have found out Now here
arc you and I; we hare been following
the sea these twenty years, and I’m not
afraid to say that we could handle a
vessel in any weather, but if wo were
asked to take a ship from New Bedford
to Capo Horn, do you suppose we could
do it? 1 tell you, Tom, no. That’s be
cause when we were young we wasted
our time in skylarking instead of study.
It was different with our skipper, as
J know well, for he and I were ship
mates together on the voyage that he
jumped from before the mast to the
quarter deck.”
“Don’t see how he could do it,” grum
bled the one addressed as Tom.
“Well, I’ll tell you, mate, when we
get below,” replied Bill Becket, one'of
the boat steerers of the whaling ship
Grampus, which had just left her home
port for a three years’ cruise in the Pa
cific.
“It was this way,” began Bill that
same evening in the “dog watch” when
ho and his companion Tom, who was
also a boat steerer. were leaning idly
over tho weather rail, gazing out on the
vast expanse of waters over which their
vessel was bounding before a fair wind.
“It’s little over four years now since I
joined the Race Horse down in one of
the Kanaka islands. I had run away
from another ship and had ‘beach
combed' it (nautical parlance for tramp),
until 1 got a chance in the Race Horse.
Wo were going north to cruise in the
Ocliotsk sea. The skipper was before
the mast then; he was a chap that didn’t
have to see a thing done more than twice
before ho could do it himself.
“I handled the harpoons in the mate's
boat, and little Blue Fin. as we called
our cap'll that is now, pulled the bow
oar in tho same craft. One morning,
just a little after daylight, the lookout
in the crosstrees raised a school of sperm
whales. Wo had a pretty stiff breeze
the night before and' the sea was still
running high. We lowered away, how
ever, our three boats—mate's, second
mate's and third's.”
" ‘I'll take that fellow up to wind’ard.’
called our officer, as he pointed to a big
whale that was playing around on the
outside of tho school, as though he was
placed there to protect the cows' and
calves that were huddled together in the
middle from any danger.
•• 'Li>ok out. Bill.’ says the mate to me
as he stood grasping the steering oar,
•Look out, man, and doo$ miss him.
There's a good hundred barrels there.’
“ ‘Ay, ay, sir,’ said I. ‘Lay me on
close enough and Til drive both “irons”
into him clear to the beekets.’
“There Was no danger but what he’d
do it, for the fellow didn't know what it
was to be afraid of a whale, i warn't
going to take any chances, so I waited
till the boat almost touched the bi_
brute,'then I let fiy both harpoons, one
after another, and sung out, ‘Stern all.'
Wheu the boys were backing so as to
give the whale room to play, 1 went aft
to change places With the mate, and he
walked forward to his station in the bow
to kill the fish with a lance.
“Now this whale was one of those
kind of fellows that takes his medicine
easy at first, but fights like fury before
he k'ists his red flag. He didn’t ‘sound,’
but lay and wallowed for a minute or
two, then began to swing ’round so as to
got sight of us.
“ ‘He’s going to givq us a tussel,’ call
ed the mate.
“ ‘Ay, ay, he’s a fighter,’ says I.
“Then 1 caught sight of Blue Fin’s
face. All the other chaps were glancing
over their shoulders ahd beginning to
get a littlo shaky, but he sat on his
thwart with his hand grasping the oar,
just as quiet and unconcerned as if he
were in a skiff on a mill pond, and not
within half a cable’s length of a mad
bull sperm that threatened to send him
ahd his shipmates to Davy Jones’ locker
at any minute,
“ ‘Stand by to jump,’ called the mate.
•He’s coming for us.’
“Now you know there’s no boat qnick
enough to get out of the way of a whale
when ho makes a rush, so the only thing
to do is to leave her. Tho other men
sprang to their fqet, but the boy still sat
there and 1 began to think he was para
lyzed with fright.
“ ‘Stand np to* jump. Bine Fin,’
called. ‘And when yon go leap straight
for the beggar, and not from him.’
“Tho lad smiled and nodded his head,
and standing up, nnshipped his oar from
tne thole pin, held it ready and faced
about.
“Then the whale started.
“ ‘Jump!’ yelled the mate.
“Tho next instant we were all floun
dering around in the water, while the
bull- caught the boat in’ bis mouth,
crushed it to pieces and sounded.
“The third Plate, who had just killed
one small chap, was not far away, so he
came and picked ns op—all but the
mate; we never saw him afterward. He
must have been fouled in the lines and
gone down.
“We got two ont ef the school, but all
hands felt sad at the loss of the officer. I
couldn’t help telling onr Skipper how cool
Blue Fin was through the whole thing,
nqd when he shoved the officers ahead
he rated his own boat steerer third mate
and. ordered Bine Fin to. take charge of
the irons in his craft
“1 tell you the boy was proud enough,
but he had nerve and good lnck, both of
which are everything to a whaler. This
i 1 was destined to be an unfortunate voy-
\ age for the After Guards. The whales
f Were plenty in the Ochotok 'sea, and
there was hardly* a day but what we
were outing In or trying out blubber. ■
“One afternoon • the cap'n lowered
away for a wightf whale. Onr boat was
dose alongside;
©ufc . .
I * “ TWt .you
with chains to the port side of the ship.
Poor Bine Fin felt awful bad, and he I
kept mourning as the mate read the |
burial service, saying:
“ ‘Oh, if 1 hadn’t struck the whale |
that last blow. 'Twas the second iron
that tonched his “life,”
tain’s too.’
and onr eap-
“ ‘But, shipmate,’ went on the boat
steerer, *it was to be, and it’s the way
of the world, I suppose. One man
monnts to a position through the death
of another, just as a new ship is built to
take the place of a craft that has found
l bed on the rocks.’
“ ‘Yes, there's a great deal ef truth in
what yon say. Bill. But how was it
that your cap’n’s loss rated Bine Fin
skipper?’
“ ‘He wasn’t skipper in every sense of
the word, bnt 'twas this way: The offi
cers that were left were the same as yon
and 1—good sailors and good whalers—
but they knew nothing of navigation.
Bine Fin, of all onr company, was the
only one who could handle a quadrant
work np a sight." As 1 said, the
whales were plenty, and we didn't want
to leave the grounds till the ice drove ns
ont, for we were making money, so wo
finished onr cmise, and when we reached
Honolulu wore full to the batches with
oil and bone.
There was some talk of shipping
another man to take the vessel home,
bnt the agent and the American consul
Said, ‘If that yonng man knew enough
to bring the craft safely out of the
Ochotsk sea, he knows enongh to find
his way to New Bedford.’ They just
engaged another mate ‘by the run’ who
was a navigator, and gave the boy
charge of the ship.
We made a qnick passage around
the Horn, and the owners were so much
pleased with Bine Fin that they gave
him command of the Race Horse on the
next voyage, and while away on that
cruise they built him this one here, the
Grampns, and that's how the lad be
came skipper so yonng. It goes to prove
the trnth of what 1 said a few moments
ago, that ‘It’s not always gray hairs
which cover the wisest head.’ A boy is
sometimes more fit to command than a
man who has seen twice or thrice his
number of years.”—True Flag.
Making Lightning to Order.
Professor Elihn Thomson, the Lynn,
Mass., electrician, claims to have dis
covered the knack of making lightning.
The invention is at present of more
scientific than practical interest,
although there will bo plenty of prac
tical uses for it eventually. The pro
fessor has succeeded by very simple
means in securing extremely potential
discharges. In an arc electric lamp the
carbons are three-eighths of an inch
apart, and in a search light a little
farther. The flame when they are sep
arated acts as a conductor.
In Professor Thomson’s machine, how
ever, the distance is eight inches, and
no flame can leap so far. The result is
the torrents of sparks are thrown off
without interruption and with reports
like the rattling of a Gatling gnn or a
case of fire crackers. The strength of
the discharges appear to be limited only
by the space of the machine.—Cor. St.
Louis Globe-Democrat.
Care of Plants.
Care should be exercised at this sea
son of the year not to overwater yonr
plants, as vegetation is inclined to be at
standstill. It is better to keep the
roots partially dry while in this resting
condition. Sprinkling the foliage of
plants three or fonr times daily will be
found beneficial.—Daisy.
Not a Sign of Genlns.
By all means let the letter writers
come to Uncle Sam’s assistance by im
proving their chirography mtd relieving
the dead letter office of superscriptions
that can’t be deciphered. The notion
that illegible penmanship is a sign of
genius deserves to be dissipated.—Bos
ton Herald.
Glam to Bold Vinegar.
Never keep vinegar er yeast la stone
crocks or jars; their acids attack the
glazing, which is said to be poisonous.
Glass for either is better. —Exchange.
Expansion of Zine,
Zinc expands np to the melting point.
A bar of hammered zino six inches long
will expand 1-100 of an inch in raising
the temperature 100 degs. F.—New York
Journal. >
There are people who never give away
any milk until after they skim it, and
then they want credit for
DO YOU REMEMBER?
De roe remember how that night waa sweet?
Yoa called it sweet and somethin* more as
well.
The flue white moonbeams drifted at onr feet.
And nestled in each lower’s trembling belL
excitable, high strong, xpnsic mad, his
nervous system like a treble string that
is ready to snap—1 became convinced
that he spoke .the truth—he was per
fectly happy. Nothing in his surround
ings indicated artistic tastes, unless
perhaps the piano, though that was
closed so as to be utilized for holding
vases of fresh flowers, and above it,
hanging to the wall by a faded blue rib
bon, was what looked like the skeleton
df a wreath, for a single leaf, the last
remaining one, showed that it had been
made of a branch of laurel.
The sight awoke my memories, and
while Mark Antony poked the fire my
thoughts went back to the night of his
triumph. In his “Virgilian Symphony”
he had set to mnsic the very bouI of the
poet, combining in a tempest of orches
tration the Bucolics and the ASneid—the
lowing of cattle, the sighing of pine
trees in the wind, the soft murmurs of
fountains, then the trumpet blasts of
Trojan warriors and the love sobs of the
deserted Tyrian queen. That night, in
the midst of thunders ef applause, an
unknown woman, beautiful as a god
dess, had presented to the yonng com
poser. who was pale with pride and hope,
this laurel branch, plucked for him, it
was said, from Virgil’s grave.
Unmindful of that night, Mark An
tony poked the fire vigorously. “How
odd,” ho said, “that ■ yon shonld have
stumbled against mo by chance in this
ont of the way corner of France! Yon
wonder how I came to exile myself? In
deed, 1 hardly know, but one day 1 sud
denly decided to go out of town for a
little while—just a month or so^-for 1
was sickof Paris with its rush and fever,
of the endless routine of an artist's life,
of weeks that had no Sundays nor an
interval ef rest.
**I set off by rail and stopped here
merely because the name of tho place
pleased me; it seemed to promise a land
of calm forgetfulness, of lazy rivers, of
willow trees, of peaceful hills whose
tops were crowned with mists. 1 was
not disappointed, bnt the most seduc
tive of the charms 1 found here was the
novel sensation of hearing distinct
sounds breaking complete silence; I was
tired of the infernal din of Paris,
thousand roars combined in one, and
never c: ising, and 1 waa thrilled with
delight by the mnsic of a village church
bell, the ringing of an anvil, the sound
of the women washing clothes in the
brook and the report of a sportsman’s
rifle on the hillside.
Fate ordained that I shonld meet an
old college mate. He waa living as a
gentleman farmer on his family estate,
and had a niece who was a pretty girl,
not very rich, it is true, bnt we pleased
each other in an unromantic way, and
were married. It was not by any means
my intention to give up Paris entirely.
On the contrary, we spent two winters
there. The third year, however, our
courage failed, for my wife was not
very strong, and I, in my loose slippers
and corduroy jacket, thought gloomily
of always dining in evening dress and
making and receiving endless ‘calls,’ of
yawning in the theater night after night.
Then there were the children to think
of. and we ought to economize. So, lit
tle by little, I was weaned from city
life,.nntil at last I seemed to see Paris
through a mist, and now it is to me a
far distant place, to which I do not know
the way. I am thoroughly provincial
I have my wife, my children, a small
circle of friends who do not exqct a re
turn in kind for everj courtesy. I shoot
a little, fish a little, ent down my hay
and put it in my bam. That has been
my life for the last ten years.”
And the music?’ I asked.
Oh, I have not given it np entirely,’
he said, with a smile of embarrassment
that portfolio in the comer is nearly
foil. I have began several great works,
bnt nothing is finished, for somehow,
between ourselves, I find that the to
toxica ting Paris air is necessary for in
spiration. Yonr presence, however, will
do just as well, and I shall set to work
to earnest.”
“Poor Mark Antony!” I thought. At
that moment the door knocker sounded.
I heard the servant go through the hall,
and then a lady of prepossessing appear
ance entered the room, preceded by two
little boys dressed to sailor suits, their
cheeks like rosy apples and their calves
scratched and sunburned.
My wife,” said Mark Antopy, pre
senting us to each other, and the lady,
after bidding the children shake hands
with me, asked if I would not stay to
dinner.
'Of course ho will, not only today,
bnt every day as long as he remains
here!” exclaimed my friend joyfully,
and his wife echoed his cordial words,
though a cloud of dismay passed over
her face.
“We have nothing but a stew for din
ner today,” she said; perhaps yon will
not like it. My husband told me how
to make it, with pork, wine and spices.
Weight and Yield’of ISggs,
Geese four to the pound, 20 por annum.
Bantams, sixteen to the pound, 60 per
annum.
Houdans, eight to the pound. 50 per
annum.
Guineas, eleven to the ponnd, 60 per
annum.
Turkeys, five to the pound, 30 to 60 per
annum.
Ducks, five to six per pound, 30 to 60
per annum.
Polish, nine to the pound, 150 per an
num. -
Plymouth Rocks, eight to the ponnd,
100 per annum. , '
Dark Brahmas, eight to the pound,
and about 70 per annum. .
La Fleche, seven to the pound, 130 per
annum.
Crevecoeurs, seyen to the pound, 150
per annum.
Hamburgs, nine to the pound, 150 per
annum.
Game fowls, nine to the ponnd, 130 per
annum.
Dominiques, nine to the pound, 130 per
annnm.
Black Spanish, seven to the ponnd, 130
per annum.
Leghorns, nine to the ponnd, 160 to 300
per annnm.
Black, white and buff Cochins, eight
to the pound, 100 or leas per annum.
Tho eggs of the modern, improved
breeds of fowls have gained one-third in
weight, as compared with eggs formerly
had.
Light Brahmas and partridge Cochins’
eggs, seven to the ponnd. They lay 80
to 100 per annum or even more,-accord
ing to the treatment and keeping.—Fan
ciers* Journal. -f ...
An Attractive Library.
The library of Mary Mapes Dodge is
often mentioned by literary people, who
consider it a eharrafag qpot, bHh m ac
count of the distinguished people to be
met there, as well as the cozy comforts,
many of which she herself has planned,
independent of reignipg styles. Low
bookcases, half worn easy chairs, and
oriental curtains mak^ this a charming
place. It is becoming common to have
the library a light, cheerful abode,
rather than the dark, heavy interior,
the style for so long, and so many of
which can still be seen. The latest is to
have a five foot wainscoting in light
oak, capped by. a molding carved with
festooned garlands and ribbons. The
ceiling is intersected with beams, also in
light oak, the floor only showing old
oak, hut covered by rugs in shades of
light brown, ecru and, perhaps, dull
bine or red to correspond with walls in
these same subdued bnt cheerful tints.
Even ivory white is now seen in com
bination with yellow as the prevailing
tints of the modern library, but while so
pretty in the drawing room, most people
find themselves unable to make this
combination seem just the proper thing
for the library. Light oak combined
with natural cherry is proving most
satisfactory, the effect being neither as
heavy as the old stylo nor as light as the
modern colonial.—Brooklyn Eagle.
Tho hollowed wave* cam. ereepln, to the I aether successful with it, I think/
beach I “Delicionsl I said, and she homed
And broke there with » joyous round at last.
Do you remember how there was no speech?
No need for that. Our heartbeats throbbed
too fast.
A small white falling star shot through the
You* Wd’me "wish!” tefore.ltcmild depart;
Do you remember how I answered, Nayr'^
Because there was no wish
into the kitchen, which adjoined the
parlor dining room. As she raised the
lid of the stowpan which stood on the
stove, its contents gently simmering,
white, savory steam rose around her
like a cloud. Then she rejoined us
holding a spoon into which she was
blowing gravely with the air of-a priest-
“I have used Ayie’a Hair Yi? ,, r for a
number of years, and it has always given
me Satisfaction. Jt is an excellent dressing,
prevents tlie hair from turning gray, in
sures its vigorous growth, and keeps the
scalp white an clean.”—Mary A. Jackson,
Selma, Moss,
“Taste it,” she said to her husband,
who, having obeyed her, pronounced
perfect.
She lint the spoon to her own lips,
then said slowly, “No, thero is somo
thing wanting.” After a thoughtful
I was paying a visit to my friends, the
Durands. They were a simple, honest
couple, who lived near the banks of the
river, in a tiny house, a mere bird’s nest,
almost hidden by wistaria and Virginia
creeper. Durand’s hauls bore the marks
of honest toil, for he had been a lock
smith in his youth, and had by industry
and economy raised himself steadily un
til he became the proprietor of a large
business and secured a competency for
his old age. His wife, a quiet, gentle
creature, worshiped her husband, and
both of t’oem wore on their faces an ex
pression of serenity which betokened
ease of conscience and a life of peace.
Duratsd vas past sixty years of age and
his wife must have been fifty, yet in
spite of their wrinkles and gray hairs
these t.wo treated each other with an
affectionate deference which was a pleas
ure to behold. They were Philemon and
Baucis resuscitated.
While we were engaged in conversa
tion just before dinner Dnrand rose and
opened a drawer to take out some trifle
which he wished to show me. While
he was turning- over the contents of the
drawer it chanced that a little cap, such
as might have heen worn by a doll or an
infant, fell to the floor. I picked it np
and noticed that it was made of coarse
bine linen, with two bits of twine in
stead ef ribbons. As I haralad it to him
I said p;ayly:
‘Are yon preparing a hefty basket,
Papa Durand?"
I had no sooner spoken than I regret
ted it, for I recollected at that moment
having heard that the only shadow on
my friends’ lives was the fact of their
union being a childless one. For a mo
ment Dnrand made no reply, bnt looked
at the little cap affectionately; then, as
he laid it carefully away again, he said
in a tone of) seriousness:
‘That is a souvenir.”
Railroad Signals Hinder Fast Trains.
The most improved forms of signaling
and interlocking; be they mechanical,
pneumatic, electric, automatic or other
wise, which are so necessary to the safe
movement of passenger trains, may L
introduced, bnt cannot be placed nearer
together than three-quarters of a mile.
The very presence of these signals, while
giving the maximum safety, has in prac
tice made prompt movement more diffi
cult. This state of affairs wonld point
to the necessity for an increase in the
number of tracks, so that passenger
trains conld be grouped on the basis of
speed just as it has been found already
necessary, on crowded lines, to separate
the freight traffic from the passenger.—
Theodore N. Ely in Scribner’s.
Reformation of the Nose.
Is yonr nose shaped to suit you? If it
isn’t yon can have one to please your
most fastidious fancy. What kind do
yon want? A straight nose, denoting
refinement and artistic tendencies; or a
rounder one, revealing a literary taste;
or a scientific nose, or a melancholy nose
of the poetic type? Yon ean cultivate
any kind of a nose yon want. This may
be dene by means of a mold which is
designed to be worn ait night, and its
mission is accomplished by gradually
pressing the flesh of the nose into any
desired shape. The molds come high,
hot who wonld not pay the price for
ideal nose?—Philadelphia Record.
SERENADE.
The birds hare gene to sleep, lave,
The lowers are drunk Wfth dnr.
The stars thetr rlsfls keep, leva,
And I appeal to yen.
Hy heart, my eong eonfonnda, love,
R sings in a miner key;
My joy wonld know no bosnda, lore.
If yoa’d bat oome to me.
Awake, awake, oh, true, true heart.
Awake to lore and me;
Tho morn draws nigh and womust part,
Tis night—and we are tree!
The sky is flecked with clouds, love,
Like lace upon yonr breast;
Day’s corpso in its pale shrouds, lore.
Is buried in the west.
The dead may tell no tales, love.
The day la dead and gone;
Thy courage never fails, love.
I’m waiting here alone.
Descend, descend, eh, true, true heart.
Descend to love and me;
The morn draws nigh, and we most part,
’Tis nigbt-rand wo are free!
—Dan Beard In New York Trnth.
Mr. C. A. Burch, of this city, is in At
lanta on a visit to his friend
toft*
An Error Corrected —In the
Athens Ledger of Saturday last it won
stated that Col. James M. Smith had
bought the Lex’ngton Terminal rail-
r -ad. The Lodger’s informant was
most certainly at error. The nearest
Col. Smith has come to such a purchase
is being a member of the company
Then we.all three sat down to dinner
and talked of other matters, bnt as soon
as the repast was finished and the little
maid of all work had put cigars and
liquors upon the table my friend said
suddenly;
“How much that baby eap reminds
me of!” It was evident that he wanted
to explain lus remark, and I bagged him
to do so.
Ii was » great —ay yeen ago, he
salt after a alight pause, tor I was
about twelve years old. I waa working
in a large factory, and i had a compan
ion of the same age as myself whom on
account of his ugly features we nick
named Zizi Monkeyface.
He was a sly, thieving, mischievous
urchin, very much given to filcliin,
tarts from the pastry cook’s counter, but
a jolly little chap and full of pluck. He
was so lazy that' he would have been
turned out of the factory had it not
been for the indulgence of the overseer,
who had been a triend of his father, and
who took an interest in the boy for the
sake of his dead comrade. Monkeyface.
was an orphan, and the only relative he
had ever known 1 was the woman who
brought him up, a cousin of his moth-
Tliis woman waa a fish peddler, a
brawling, brutal creature, whose affec
tion for her yonng charge was mani
fested only hy blows. Perhaps if he
had known a parent’s love he would
have heen less perveise.
One afternoon the lad took it into his
Load to run away from the factory and
go vagabonding about with a gang of
yonng ruffians like himself. As they
were co ning slowly home after night
fall they heard, to tueir astonishment,
the cry cf an infant. • The sonnd seemed
to issue from a long, narrow, dirty alley
which opened on the street, and at the
other end of which hung a dimly flick
ering lamp. After a short consultation
the street boys ventured softly into the
passage and one of them espied behind
the door a little bundle of rags which
straggled and wailed. He seized hold
of it, and the whole party ran into the
street triumphant, stopping under
lamp to examine their capture. It
proved to be a baby girl a few weeks
old wrapped np in a soriee of dirty
cloths—a poor little innocent whom a
wretched, perhaps desperate mother
had abandoned to the charity of stran
gers.
A council was held to decide what
should be done with the booty, and the
young captors gave free play to their
mischievous imaginations. Ooo’said to
put the baby hack where jhey found it;
another, to hide it in a half emj^y prune
box which stood at a grocer’s door; a
third proposed to climb np to a second
story balcony and leave the youngster
there, and how astonished the people
wonld be next day! Bnt Ziai Monkey
face scouted all these ideas and declared
that the baby must be given to . the
gypsies. There was a band of these peo
ple near by,-who practiced jugglery ai.d
fortune telling, and instances of kidm- p
ing were by no means rare.
Monkeyface’s decision was hailed vr .th
enthusiasm, and he claimed the righ : to
carry the treasure-trove in emndera- .on
of his having made the plan.
Give ns the kid,” he said. The baby
had all this time been screaming pite
ously, bnt tt stopped sullenly v.hen
Menkeyface took bold ef ft, mtd v- hile
he walked along with an afcref triumph
it fixed its great blue eyes upon his ugly
face and smiled, at the same time
stretching its tiny hands out as if to ca
ress him.
“She is laughing!” cried the. Iky in
delight; “see how she looks at me.”
Then a new impulse seized him,
“I will not give her away," he said
“I will keep her myrelf.”
His companions protested indignantly,
but in vain, for as they well knew Zizi
Monkeyface had at the end of each arm
an argument so strong that it would be
useless as well as unsafe to oppo a his
wishes.
When he reached home with Lis bur
den the fish peddler exclaimed f iriOnsly
“Do you think 1 have not ec ugh to do
to fill yonr mouth, yao lazy imp? Take
that brat to the police—qu.ak, now!”
Pif, paf! A box on each ear showed the
boy that she was in earnest and he fled
from the house.
I work hard all day?’
“1. have already told yon twenty
cents,” answered the man in surprise,
and Monkeyface worked indefatigably
until night. The overseer, amazed and
delighted at the change, paid the boy
for his work and even gave him twenty
cents in advance in order to encourage
him.
That night Monkeyface was again ab
sent from his home, and his cousin, the
fish peddler, went to the factory the
next evening, lay in wait for him and
dragged him home in spite of his strug
gles, administering a thrashing on the
way. But it was no use. As soon as the
old vfoman turned her hack to cook the
soup for dinner the boy slipped out of
the house and did not return.
The factory overseer, having been in
formed of the state of affairs, made up
his mind to settle the matter at once by
finding ont where Monkeyface spent his
nights, and for this purpose watched the
lad as he left the factory. Mr. George,
in company with one of the workmen,
followed' the wanderer a short distance
and observed him enter a bakery and
buy a small loaf of’ bread; next he went
into a dairy and came out carrying a
bottle of milk, and then turned his steps
toward a lonely, deserted quarter near
the river.
Suddenly his followers saw him
plunge into a muddy alley. The place
having no lamps was as dark as an
oven, but Monkeyface was dimly visi
ble as he stopped before a board fence.
The next minute he had scaled it with
the agility of the animal that was his
namesake and was lo6t to sight.
The two men, determined to discover
his hiding place, climbed over the wall
and found themselves in a large vacant
lot, surrounded by weeds and rubbish,
bnt of Monkeyface there was not a
sign.
At last they espied in the farthest cor
ner a low wooden shed, which had evi
dently once served as a fowl house, and
through the cracks of which a faint
light was shining. They approached it
noiselessly and peered through a crack.
Great was their astonishment. In the
middle of the wretched hut, in which a
man would pot have been able to stand
upright, sat the young runaway, a can
dle end stuck in the ground beside him;
he was gravely pouring milk into a feed
ing bottle, and in a corner on a bed of
dried leaves a baby was sleeping soundly,
wrapped np in an old blanket.
Zizi Monkeyface transformed into a
nurse!
“What the deuce are yon doing here?"
asked the overseer, throwing open the
door of the cabin suddeuly, and the boy,
startled at first by the intrusion, soon re
covered himself and answered slowly:
Haven’t 1 got a right to have a little
sister?”
Then after a pause he added grandly:
‘I earn twenty cents a day. That is
enongh for -us both, and we don't ask
any one for anything!”
The narrator paused, smiled softly and
added:* _ /'•
The next day the owner of the fac
tory', being informed of the matter,
raised my pay to forty cents — just
double.”*-
What!” I cried, “it was you?’
Ah, 1 have betrayed myself,” said
Durand: “Yes, I was the young rascal
who was in a fair way to come to the
gallows, and, thanks to the blue eyes of
that little girl, I became a good work
man and afterward set up for myself.
Now you understand why 1 keep that
little blue cap; she had it on when we
found her.”
And what has become of her?" 1
asked eagerly.
The old man answered, “We have
never parted;” then smiling, he looked
at his wife and added, “have we, my
dear?”
She smiled in return, but her eyes
were moist as she looked at him, and
under her eyelids 1 saw a teardrop
glistening.—Translated for Epoch.
WATTERSON TALKS
Fertilizers for Lawns.
The very common practice of covering
city lawns with barnyard manure is dis
agreeable alike to the occupants of the
home as well as passers by. C. M.
Hooker thinks that it is very queer, after
taking so much time and labor to make
a good green lawn eight months of the
year, the contents of the barnyard shonld
be dumped upon it to remain there the
rest, of the twelvemonth. He affirms
that if the owners who do this should
practice instead dressing their lawns
with unbleached ashes and nitrate of
soda it wonld keep fertility and offend
no one.
Microscopio Wonders.
The microscope has revealed many
wonders, among others that the com
mon caterpillar has 4,000 muscles in his
body; that the drone bee’s eyes each
contain 1,300 mirrors, and. that the
large, prominent eyes of.the brilliant
dragon flies are each furnished with
28,000 polished lenses.—New York J«
naL
Carried the Same Knife 60 Yean.
A Portland man has a knife that ha
has carried for the past sixty-nine years.
We are willing to wager that he never
passed much of that time around
newspaper office, where he had to k>
that knife for sharpening pcncQs.—
Bangor (Me.) Commercial.
The wind , known as the khamsin
blows for fifty days in Egypt, beginning
with April 39 or 30. The word khamsin
is from the Arabic and means fifty.
Tue gay yonng bicyclist he’s in h'shed.
Not for bim is. the spring sun skininc,
He has been flung and is aore in body and
head,
But Salvation Oil will make him smiling.
• I’ve eot it at last,” said ibe fellow who
t. o <1 bis cough subdued by Dr. Bull’s
On Synip.’
A QUEER COMBINATION.
What a queer combination of cheek and per*
varsity, . •'
Insolence, pride, gab, impudence, vanity,
Jealousy, hate, scorn, baseness. Insanity,
Honor, truth, wisdom, virtue, urbanity.
Is that whimsical biped called man!
tho depths of his : innate de-
Who can
That night he did not retr.ra, and the Today he’s all gayety, tomorrow all gravity.
THB NOMINATION OF CLEVELAND M
WOULD BE SHEER SUICIDE.
DEFEAT WOULD BE CERTAIN
While Other Democrats Were Strug*
gUng with Demons, Grover was
Passive and Silent—He le a
Good Tariff Reformer, but
no Better Than Half a
* Dozen Others—Hells
Not a Moses.
i
m
m
I
V
1
Chicago, Ill., March 12.—An author*
Ized interview with Henry Watterson is
made public. Mr. Watterson read the
interview after it was written and en*
dorstd it as correct. Three questions
were propounded. The first aud secoud
are related to Mr. Watterson’s well
known views upon the tariff and silver.
The third and most important question, -W,
that of the presidential nomination, Mr. aJBj
Watterson answered last. He said:
I have never indulged myself very
much in hero worship, and any goc-d
Democrat whom the national conven* '*3
tion may see fit to nominate, will suit
me. If I had to put a man in the white ;
house he would he Carlisle. I regard
nim as the best equipped Democrat in Wm
public life. He is able and honest. Ho
is sound to the core and
has the courage of hie
convictions. He was making great ex
positions in Democratic lore and lead* M,
ing Democratic tariff battles when
Cleveland was mayor of Buffalo. He
would make an eminent preaident. Him
aside, anybody will suit me who does
not come from New York.”
“Why so?”
“Because the factions there bave '~>—
made the nomination of any New
Yorker impossible. Govenor Hill has
killed Cleveland, and in doing so be has
almost killed himself The nomination
must came from the West, or go to Mm*
sachusetts, Pensylvauia or Maryland,
if we could not elect Cleveland in 1888,
when he was in the White House, and
when he had all outer forms aud shows
of harmony in the State of New York,
what chance should we have against
the present vehement opposition?
Cleveland Is Not a Moses.
“Cleveland made us a good president.
In great affairs he has many of the ele
ments of a great man. I am most sin*
ereiy bis friend. But I most contest,
and sometimes I feel like resenting the
notion that he is our sole, onr only and
most original Moses in the matter of
tariff reform. Cleveland allowed three
years of his old administration to pass
before he declared himBelf. When oth
er democrats were struggling with the
demons of darkness he was passtte and
silent. When he did speak out he spoke
well, but he was so skeptical of the is
sue he had himself precipitated.
; Go.man and the late William L.
Scott to St. Louis with a cut and dried
jlarform, ignoring his own message,
gnoring the Mills bill and reasserting
as his party law the straddle we had
made in Chicago in 1884.
Cleveland’s Nomination Would be
Suicide.
“I do not mean to impeach or criti
cize Cleveland in the least. He is as
good a tariff reformer as- anybody,
but he is no better than
half a doz*n wbo bave an equal claim
with bim to public confidence. In the
face of the New York schism it seems
to me his nomination would be sheer
suicide, and I have so much respect ft r
his tense of dignity and honor that "I
take it for granted that he will in due
timo withdraw his name.”
“Do you think Senator Palmer is too
old?”
“Why, what is the matter with Glad
stone or Bismarck? No, certainly not.
He is an excellent man. and it there are
no sink holes in bis record he would
make au excellent candidate. So would
Governor Boies, of Iowa. So would
Governor Russell, or Governor Patter
son, or Gorman, if.we decide to go east.
The woods are full of admirable possi
bilities.”
In reference to a bint that he himself
might be a candidate. Mr. Watterson
remarked:
Watterson Has no Chance*
“When there has been a foreign War,
and 1 have had an opportunity to sink
my confederate record under a union
commission and do prodigies of valor
on the tented field, or words to tbateff-
ect, come to me aud I will talk to you
about it.”
A SAD DEATH,
Miss Jennie Murrell Breathes her last
on Sunday Evening.
(I
We are sorry to announce the death m
of Miss Jennie Murrell, eldest daughter
of Mr. and Mrs. Geo. T. Murrell, at the
home of her parents on Sunday evening
last. She had been quite sick for some
days from a severe attack of measlel—
and her death was not unexpected.
She was a most amiable and lovely
young lady, and was loved by all who
knew her. Her winning ways and utter
unselfishness endeared her to every one
with whom she became acquainted.
Mis3 Jennie was a faithful member of
the Methodist church at Wintervil
and a devoted attendant of the Bnnday
school. And nowhf re will her presence
be more missed than in the Sunday
school room.
To the grief stricken parents, sisters,
friends and relatives, we extend our
sincere sympathies.
The whole community in whieh she
lived and moved will miss the sunny
face, and cheering smile of one all knew
but to love.
But it is a sweet consolation tore-
member her as she wa9,and to think on
the fact that she is now where there is
no more suffering, but all is joy and
peaoe.
pause her face brightened and she ex- which has recently come into posses- | life.
• I claimed, “Of course, I have forgotten 1 sion of bo’h the Terminal and thequar- : “Mr. George,
next morning he was in l'..a factory as For blovrin* hts own horn he
soon as it opened for thefi:ut time in his . Even under clouds of singula
riesatthis place,-“Echo.
'1. '
he said timidly to tho
thorpe county, and the latter by Mr.
Aiken, of Clarks county. These arrests
were mi.de by Officers Suddeth and
Jumped Their CoNTKAqfrs.—The po
lice ran in three darkies Sunday nighti-ffl
who are wanted in Oglethorpe county
for jumping their laker contracts. The
negroes w.*ra Tom and Isaiah Math- //
thews and Toro Smith, the two former SB
being wanteBby Mr. Harrison, ofO" 1 *-
