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THE LOTTERY OF LIFE.
The Revue dea Deux Modes contains
several “ Incidents in the War of Mex
ican Independence,” from which wo se
lect the following thrilling scene. A
captain in the insurgent army is giving
an account of a meditated night attack
upon a hacienda, situated in the Cordil
lera, and occupied by a large force of
Spanish soldiers. After a variety of
details, he continues:
Having arrived at the hacienda un
perceived, thanks to the obscurity of a
moonless night, we came to a halt un
der some large trees at some d'stance j
from the building, and I rode forward
from my troop in order to reconuoiter
the place. The hacienda, so far as 1
could see in gliding across the trees,
formed a huge massive parrallelogram,
strengthened by enormous buttresses of
hewn stone. Along this chasm the
walls of the hacienda almost formed
the continuation of another perpendic-
ular one, chisseled by nature herself in
the rocks, to the bottom of which the
eye could not penetrate, for the mists
which incessantly boil up from below
did not allow it to measure their awful
depths. This place was known in the
country by the name of “the Voladero.”
I had explored all sides of the build
ing except this, when I know not what
scruple of military honor incited me to
continue my ride along the ravine
which protected the rear of the hacien
da. Between the walls and the preci
pice there was a narrow patiiway about
six feet wide; by day the passage
would not have been dangerous, but by
night it was a perilous enterprise. The
walls of the farm took an extensive
sweep, the path crept around their en
tire basement, and to follow it to the
end in the darkness, only two paces
from the edge of a perpendicular chasm,
was no very easy task even for as prac
ticed a horseman as myself. Neverthe
less, I did not hesitate, but boldly urg
ed my horse between the walls of the
farmhouse and the abyss of the Volad
ero. I had got over half the distance
without accident, when all of a sudden
my horse neighed aloud. This neigh
made me shudder. I had reached a
pass where the ground was but just
wide enough for the four legs of a horse,
and it was impossible to retrace my
steps.
“ Halloo 1” I exclaimed aloud, at the
risk of betraying myself—which was
even less dangerous than encountering
a horseman in .front of me on such a
road. “ There is a Christian passing
along the ravine ! Keep back.”
It was too late. At that moment a
man on horseback passed round one of
the buttresses, which here And there
-.obstructed this accursed pathway. He
advanced towards me. I trembled in
any saddle ; my forehead was bathed in
a cold sweat.
“ for the love of God ! can you not
return ?” I exclaimed, terrified at the
situation in which we both were placed.
“Impossible !” replied the horseman,
in a hollow voice.
I commended my soul to God. To
turn our horses round for want of room,
to back them along the path which we
had traversed, or to dismount from
them—these were three impossibilities
which placed us both in the presence
of a fearful doom. Between two horse
men so placed both upon this fearful
path, had they been lather and son,
one of them must inevitably have be
come the prey of the abyss. But a few
seconds had passed, and w r e were
already face to face—the unknown and
myseif. Our horses were head to head,
and their nostrils dilated with terror,
mingled together with their fiery breath
ing. Both of us halted in dead silence.
Above was the smooth and lofty wall
of the hacienda ; on the other side, but
three feet distant from the wall, opened
the horrible gulf. Was it an enemy I
had before my eyes ? The love of my
country, which boiled at that period in
my young bosom, leu me to hope it
was.
“ Are you for Mexico and the insur
gents ?” I exclaimed, in a moment of
excitement, ready to spring upon the
unknown horseman if he answered in
the negative.
“ Mexico y insurgente ! —that is my
password,” replied the cavalier. “ I
am the Colonel Garduno.”
“ And I am the Captain Castanos !”
Our acquaintance was of long stand
ing, and but for our mutual agitation,
we should have no need to exchange
our names.
“Well, Colonel,” I exclaimed, “I
am sorry you are not a Spaniard—for
you perceive that one of us must yield
the pathway to the other.”
Our horses had the bridles on their
necks, and I put my hand in the hoi-
VOL. II—NO. 3’>.
sters of my saddle to draw out my pis
tols.
“ I see it so plainly," replied the
j Colonel, with alarming coolness, “ that
I should already have blown out the
brains of your horse but for the fear
lest mine, in a moment of terror, should
precipitato me with yourself to the bot
tom of the abyss.”
I remarked, in fact, that the Colonel
already held his pistols in his hands.
We both maintained the most profound
■silence, Our horses felt the danger
like ourselves, and remained as immov
able as if their feet were nailed to the
ground. My excitement had entirely
subsided. “ What are we going do ?”
I demanded of the Colonel.
“ Draw lots which of the two shall
leap into the ravine.”
It was in truth the sole means of
solving the difficulty. “ There an •
nevertheless, some precautions to take,”
said the Colonel. “Ho who shall be
condemned by lot shall retire backwards
It will be but a feeble chance of escape
for him, I admit, but, in short, it is a
chance, and especially one in favor ol
the winner,”
“ You cling not to life, then,” I cried
out, terrified at the sang froid witl
which this proposition was put to me.
“ I cling to life more than yourself,”
sharply replied the Colonel, “ for I have
a mortal outrage to avenge. But the
time is slipping away. Are j’ou read}
to proceed to draw the last lottery at
which one of us will ever assist ?”
How were we to proceed to this
drawing, by lot ? By means of the
wet finger, like infants, or by head and
tail like the school boys ? Both ways
were impracticable. Our bands impru
dently stretched out over the heads o
our frightened horses might cause them
to give a fatal start. Should we toss
up a piece of coin, the night was too
dark to enable us to distinguish which
side fell upwards. The Colonel be
thought him of an expedient of which
I never should have dreamed.
“ Listen to me, Captain,” said the
Colonel, to whom I had communicated
my perplexities. “ I have another way.
The terror which our horses feel makes
them draw every moment a burning
breath. The first of us two whose
horse shall neigh—”
“ Wins !” 1 hastily exclaimed.
“ Not so—shall be the loser. I know
that you are a countryman, and such as
you can do whatever you please with
your horse. As to myself, who bnt last
year wore the gown of a theological
student, I fear your equestrian prowess.
YoU may be able to make your horse
neigh—to hinder him from doing so is
a very different matter.”
We waited m deep and anxious si
lence until the voice of one of our
horses should break forth. This silence
lasted for a minute—for an age! It
was my horse who neighed the first.
The Colonel gave no external manifes
tation of his joy, but no doubt he
thanked God to the very bottom of his
soul.
“ You will allow me a minute to make
my peace with Heaven ?” I said to the
Colonel, with faltering voice.
“ Will five minutes be sufficient ?”
“It will,” I replied. The Colonel
drew out his watch. I addressed to
wards the heavens, brilliant with stars,
which I thought I was looking up to for
the last time, an intense and a burning
prayer.
“ It is time,” said the Colonel.
I answered nothing, and with infirm
hand gathered up the bridle of my
horse and drew it within my fingers,
which were agitated by a nervous
tremor.
“ Yet one moment more,” I said to
the Colonel, “ for I have need of all my
coolness to carry into execution the
fearful maneuvre which I am about to
commence.”
“ Granted,” replied Garduno.
My education, as I have told you,
had been in the country. My child
hood and part of my earliest youth had
almost been passed on horseback. I
may 9ay, without flattering myself, that
if there was any one in the world capa
ble of executing this equestrian feat, it
was myself. I rallied myself with an
almost supernatural effort and succeed
ed in recovering my entire self-posses
sion in the very face of death. Take
it at the worst, I had already braved it
j too often to be any longer alarmed at
it. From that instant I dared to hope
afresh.
As soon as mv horse felt for the first
time since my rencounter with the Col
onel, the bit compressing his mouth, I
• perceived that lie trembled beneath me.
L strengthened myself firmly on my
stirrups, to make the terrified animal
understand that his master no longer
trembled. 1 held him up with the bri
dle and the hams, as every good horse
man does in a dangerous passage, and,
with the bridle, the body and the spur
together, succeeded in backing him a
few paces. His head was already at a
greater distance from that of the horse
of the Colonel, who encouraged me all
he could with his voice. This done, 1
let the poor trembling brute, who obey
'd me in spite of his terror, repose
aimself for a few moments—and then
recommenced the same maneuver. All
on a sudden I felt his hind legs give
way under me. A horrible shudder ran
through my whole frame. I closed my
■yes as if about to roll to the bottom
of the abyss, and I gave to my body a
violent impulse on the side next the
hacienda, the surface of which offered
not a single projection, not a single tuft
of weeds to check my descent. This
Hidden movement, joined to the des
perate struggles of my horse, was the
lalvation of my life. He had sprung
up again on his logs, which seemed
ready to fall from under him, so des
perately did I feel them tremble.
I had succeeded in reaching, between
he brink of the precipice and the wall
of the building, a spot some few inches
broader. A few more would have en
abled me to turn him round, but to at
tempt here would have been fatal, and
1 dared not venture. I sought to re
sume my backward progress, step by
step. Twice the horse threw himself
upon his hind legs and fell upon the
same spot. It was in vain to urge him
anew, either with voice, bridle or spur;
the animal obstinately refused to take
a single step in the rear. Nevertheless
[ did not feel my courage yet exhaust
ed, for I had no desire to die. One
last and solitary chance of safety sud
denly appeared to me like a flash of
light, and I resolved to employ it.
Through the fastening of my boot, and
within reach of my hand was passed a
3harp and keen knife, which I drew
from its sheath. With my left hand I
began caressing the mane of my horse,
all the while letting him hear my voice.
The jx)or animal replied to my caresses
by a plaintive neighing; then, not to
alarm him abruptly, my hand followed
by little and little the curve of his ner
vous neck, and finally rested on the
spot where the last of the vertebrae
united itself with the cranium. The
horse trembled, but I calmed him with
my voice. When I felt his very life, so
to speak, palpitate in his brain bcnChth
my fingers, I leaned over towards the
wall, my feet gently slid from the stir
rups, and with one vigorous blow I
buried the pointed blade of my knife
in the seat of the vital principle. The
animal fell, as if thunder-struck, with
out a single motion; and for myself,
with my knees almost as high as ray
chin, I found myself on horseback
across a corpse. I was saved! I
uttered a triumphant cry, which was re
sponded to by the Colonel, and which
the abyss re-echoed with a hollow sound,
as if it felt that its prey had escaped
from it. I quitted the saddle, sat my
self down between the wall and the
body of my horse, and vigorously
pushed with my feet against the car
cass of the wretched animal, which
rolled down into the abyss. I then
arose, and cleared at a few bouuds the
distance which separated the place
where I was from the plain ; and under
the irresistible reaction of the terror
which I had so long repressed, I sank
in a swoon upon the ground. When I
reopened my eyes the Colonel was by
my side.
An illiterate person who always vol
unteered to “go round with the hat,”
but was suspected of sparing his own
pocket, overhearing once a hint to that
effect, replied : “ Other gentlemen puts
down what they think proper,and so do
I. Charity’s a private concern, and
what I give is nuking to nobody."
HARTWELL, CA., WEDNESDAY. APRIL 3, 1878.
, Courting I'nder Difficulties.
J!rtt>ts<tnek [Mo.) Tima*.
a
* icy were courting under difficulties.
It was a room through which the mem
bers of the family wero coutinually
passing to and fro.
x ‘ Dear Alice,” ho said, “ I cannot
longer under this sus—”
(The old man appears.)
•' —pension of banks is duo to the
unwise policy—”
(Old gent passes on.)
“ I was going to say my dear girl,
that I hope you will promise to be mine,
and name an early day for the bonds—”
(Old woman happens in.)
“ —should never be paid iu gold
alone.”
(Exit old girl.)
“ Name the happy d3’ when I may
call jou my own, for I cannot believe
that you will think it pre—”
(<*std man slides in again.)
“ —sumption cannot be so soon ac
complished.”
.fit * intruder retires.) <r
“* sny I caift believe yon arc entire
ly islifforent to me, but will soon grant
me the privilege of calling you wi—”
(Old lady on deck.)
“ I’ve given tho financial question
much study.”
(Old lady slides off.)
"If you love me just nod your head.
You, and—Oh, one sweet kiss to seal it
—one sweet —oh, hell!—”
(Filter old man.)
“ according to eminent divines, is a
myth, a superstition.
(They were again left alone.)
The old folks conclude that Alice is j
salt enough in the company of a young
man who can talk nothing but finance
and theology, and so relax their vigi
lance.
A llaud} Witness*
The plaintiff in a case before a recent
the Detroit Court was some
what disturbed on learning tljat a cer
tain individual whose reputation for ve
racity was none the best was to be a
witness for tho defendant. The fellow’s
capacity for false swearing was notorious,
and unless his integrity was shaken, the
plaintiff's ease was a “ gone goose.” lie
hied himself to a brother litigant, and
asked him if lie would believe the wit
ness under oath.
“No,” was the reply; “you know he
is a liar.”
“Yes.”
“A thief.”
“ Yes.”
“ Disreputable in every particular.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I want you to go ou the stand
and swear to your belief.”
The friend’s countenance became
troubled, and lie replied:
“ My dear fellow, I would do you al
most any favor, but, you see, I have
got him employed as a witness for my
self next week, and I can’t afford to im
peach his veracity.”
The plaintiff sought testimony else
where, and the false swearer got his
price from both parties.
A Smart Boy,
“ Well sonny, whose pigs are those?”
“OldSow’s, sir.”
“ Whose sow is it ?”
“ Old man’s, sir.”
“ Well, then, who is your old man ?”
“If you’ll mind the pigs, I’ll run
home and ask the old woman.”
“Never mind, sonny, I want a smart
boy, what can you do ?”
“Oh! I can do more than consider
able. I can milk the geese, ride the
turkeys to water, hamstring the grass
hoppers, light fires for flies to court by,
cut the buttons off dad's coat when he
is at prayers, keep tally for dad and
’mam when they scold at a mark —old
woman is always ahead.”
“Got any brothers?”
“Lots of ’em, all named Bill, except
Bob, his name’s Sam —my name’s Larry,
but they call me Lazy Lawrence for
short.”
“ Well you’re most too smart for me.”
“Travel od, old stick in the mud, I
shan’t hire you for a lioss to-day.”
Old Time Executions in England.
Some 200 years ago, in the good old
daj r s of merry England, the crime of
theft at Halifax was punished by de
capitation. The modus nporandi waa
as follows: Tho culprit was securely
fast am*: to a blt.<k of wood between
two upright timber, in which wore
grooves for the descent of a ponderous
ax. Stealing to tho amount of 27
cents was punishable by death. If a
man stole a horse, cow, sheep or pig,
the animal was compelled to be tho ex
ecutioner, by being attached to a rope
fastened to a pin in the scaffold, the
other end of the rope passing through
an eyelet hole in the ax. On the with
drawal of the pin down went the heavy,
sharp instrument, severing tho head of
the unfortunate individual from the
body. Thieves are said in those times
to have composed the following litany :
“From Hull, hell and Halifax, good
Lord deliver us.” In Hull theft was
punished by a terrible castigation; in
the dominion of his Satanic Majesty
they knew there was no escape j nei
ther in Halifax, where they were be
headed.
. “Shot iu She Neck.”
t . * i V •
Okolona (miss.) Slates.
A young lady of Okolona sat beside
the window, sewing, when her brother
lounged into the room and reposed his
manly form on the sofa.
“ Bud.” said our heroine, looking up
from her work, “Papasays that Frank
was on a jamboree last night. Wlmt
did he mean ?” and a deep blush man
tled her seraphic countenance as she
spoke the name of the man she loved.
“ A jamboree, sis,” was the answer,
“ is a tare.”
“ A tare?” she inquired, with a puz
i zled look in her starry eyes, “ What is
tare?”
“ Why, it is a bender.”
“ I cannot understand you.”
“ Well, then, sis, he meant to say that
Frank had it up his snoot.”
“ Why, Bud, have you forgotten how
to speak English? What is the use of
perplexing me in this way ?”
“ Well, to be plain then, lie was yoked
—corned, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. Do tell me what
was the matter.”
“I have told you. Frank took too
big a fly in his lemouude, and it made
him how come you so; or, in other
words, he was half-seas-over.”
“ Half-seas-over?”
“ Yes. Throe sheets iu the wind, you
see.”
“ Bud, what makes you so provoking.
That kind of talk is all Hebrew to iue.
What did happen to dear Frank?”
“ Didn’t I tell you? Didn’t I just as
much as say he was shot iu the neck,
and—"
“ Shot in the neck !O! I knew it
killed him I O, Frank! Frank? OIO!
or
And after a succession of wild pierc
ing shrieks that might have been heard
over at Houston, our heroine began to
lay her plans for catching a beau in an
other quarter.
A Very Prudent Man.
Elijah Hitchcock was a Connecticut
constable, whose character being under
scrutiny, Deacon Solomon Rising was
inquired of about him.
“Deacon Rising,” said the questioner,
“do you think Mr. Hitchcock is a dis
honest man?”
(Very promptly.) “ Oh, no, sir ; not
by any means.”
“ Well, do you think ho is a mean
man?”
“ Well, with regard to that,” said the
deacon, a little more deliberately, “ I
may say that I don’t think he’s a mean
man; I’ve sometimes thought he was
what you might call a keerful man—a
prudent man, so to speak.”
“ What do you mean by a prudent
man?”
“ Well, I mean this ; that one time he
had an execution for $4 against the old
widow White, back here, and ha went
up to her house and levied it on a flock
of ducks; and he chased them ducks,
one at a time, round and round the
house, pooty much all day, and every
time he catchcd a duck he’d set right
down and wring its neck, and charge
mileage; and his mileage amounted to
more’n the debt. Nothing mean about
it as I know of, but I always thought,
after that, that Mr. Hitchcock was a
very prudent man.”
Govern your tongue.
WHOLE NO. 84.
INTENSE FARMING.
A writer, (L. C. B.) to the Savannah
Weekly News has the following to say
of Judge Hardaway’s experience in in
tensive farming and upon tho system
pursued by him so successfully:
Mr. It. 11. Hurdaway, of Thomas
county, iu the January number of the
Southern Cultivator , says: “There are
two small farms adjoining mine. This
year, (1877) one neighbor planted four
acres of com, e j which he put seven
bushels of cotton seed to the acre, and
other planted two acres of corn, on
which ho used ten bushels of cottonseed
to the acre. I planted six acres of com
and used sixty bushels of coltou seed,
composted with lot scrapings and ono
hundred pounds of fertilizer to the acre.
Each crop had the same workings and
the same rains, and nil had seven weeks
drought, which did much injury. As
mine was most largely fertilized, it hud
a sever*' “ water test. ’’ My corn stood
the fiery ordeal far better than that of
either of my neighbors. Oue neighbor
planted six by five feet, and the other
six by three foot, one stalk in a hill.
Result: My four-acre neighbor mado
twenty-seven bushels of corn on his four
acres, and half a stack of fodder. The
other with two acres, made twenty-one
bushels of corn, and a half a stack of
fodder. Both together, with six acres,
made forty-eight bushels of corn and
one stack of fodder. My six acres made
397 corn, and 2,632 btfodles
of fodder.
• “In a former year,” continues Mr.
Hardaway, “ I planted one acre of corn
and used ten times more fertilizers than
did a neighbor, nnd planted ten times
as much corn on the one acre. I mado
ono hundred and nineteen bushels of
corn, and he made twelve bushels. Tho
same season that will produce a good
crop of corn on highly manured land,
will produce equally ns fine a crop on
land containing ten times tho quantity
of ninuure.”
It would seem, by these experiments,
that the intense system of farming has
far outstripped every other. The same
experiments are easily made by every
farmer, for he who caunot intensely ma
nure oven oue acre can ninuure a half,
a fourth, or even one-eighth of an acre.
Surely his horses, his cows, his hogs, his
cotton seed, his branch muck, would en
able him to manure intensely one-eighth
of an acre. That would furnish him
with the facts, about which there is so
much diversity, of opinion, nnd each
can prove the system for himself.
And now, if Mr. Hardaway’s success
in yield is the result of the manuring,
as stated by him, why not every farmer
practice it as well as he? Is it not
better to concentrate the labor and ma
nure upon a few acres than to scatter
them wide upon many acres, where the
yield would be the same? Would not
it bo infinitely better to make one hun
dred and nineteen bushels of corn on
one acre by using ten times the quanti
ty of fertilizers, than to cultivate ten
acres, using the same quantity of ma
nure? Mr. Hardaway is not alone in
these experiments. Many other far
mers in Thomas county, and in other
counties all over the State, have re
ported similar yields from such man
agement; in corn, cotton, wheat, oats,
potatoes, and many other things. They
all prove that Georgia farmers have it
in their power to make a great deal
moro than they do on less than one
third of the land they cultivate, and
with much less labor and expense. If
these are real truths, are they not wor
thy of the very highest consideration
among farmers? We think they are.
Don’t Do It.
Don’t expect a man to practice all he
preaches. Eminent physicians will not
swallow their own nostrums.
Don’t imagine you are better than
your fellow. There are uo reserved
seats in heaven.
Don’t let your wealth inflate you.
Rich men eoinetimes die of small-pox.
Don’t expect your pastor to be perfect.
Charcoal will mar the beauty of the
lily.
Don’t cat fish for brain food. A hen
never scratches for chickens before they
are hatched. Don’t make a noise in the
world. A train is not moved by the
sound of the whistle.
Don’t spend too much time in adorn
ing your person. A wax figure can’t
recite the multiplication table.
Don’t dream that your child waa
born to adorn a profession. You can't
make a fence post out of a shoe peg.
Don’t expect an editor to be very de-
I votional on Sunday. Every Saturday
night there is the “ devil to pay at the
office."
Owing to the hard times and the disas
trous results of the war, the Sultan of
Turkey is trying ho get along with only
300 wives.