Newspaper Page Text
the sun.
HiBI'WKU, HART COUWTT, UA-,
AY EES 4 KcQILL, Editors.
COUNTRY KOAB-MAKING.
* r 4ttn That Is Iniliffrri-nll)-1 ntlcr •
Mood i:rrr)nlirrr.
[From the Hartford Couraul]
a matter of universal comment
with travelers tliat country road-making
111 * # United States is either a lost art
or a to-be-acquired science. The aver
age selectman or road-agent of a country
town is usually deplorably ignorant of
e first principles of making a good
fad. Nothing will so surely advance
e growth and well being of a town as
well-mad o and well-kept roads. No part
. its domestic economy will more cer
nuy repay the outlay. Nothing more
oespeaka the intelligence and character
, Pohc spirit of its citizens. InEn
rfj
° jds are made directly by the state or
’under its supervision. Asa result, the
contrast between English roads and
those of this country is much in favor of
the former. A common and natural
mistake of most towns in this country is
that an intelligent farmer must neces
sarily know how to make a good road,
but the reverse is the fact, Road-mak
ing is a subject requiring study and
a knowledge of the nature of soils, not
often considered by any but engineers,
or those to whom such knowledge is a
necessary adjunct of their business in
life. A well-made road even in our
climate and with the wide differences in
soil ingredients, will last for years,
whereas ordinarily the item of repairs on
our roads means an entirely changed
thoroughfare, the pitch, watersheds and
general character being more in
the way of experiment than a scientific
and practical renovation. The
country road-maker commences by
throwing out the “big stones” on to the
side of the road, retaining the smaller
ones, when by thoroughly “bedding”
the big stones the best possible founda
tion is had; and, with a covering of
smaller stones mixed with gravel, or
even with good loam carefully harrowed
and scraped, a road-bed is formed which
will defy both rains and heavy teams.
Generally the tyro devotes his time tc
heaping up the material in the center
with such a slope as often to interfere
with locomotion, and which heap the
first heavy team resolves into deep ruts,
vitiating its usefulness for any but a sim
ilarly heavy team, and for it only with
constantly-increasing strain on the
horses. Yankee ingenuity has invented
capital road-making tools, which need
but intelligent application to developing
such thoroughfares as would make them
admired, in place of being a reproach
and shame. Our country is rich enough
to place the roads in the hands of such
government ns will insure their perfec
tion, instead of leaving them to town
officials without the education or experi
ence necessary to an accomplishment of
the object. Most of the roads east of
the Connecticut river are sandy, and
this fact, together with the in difference
or ignorance of those in charge toward
improving their character, necessarily
impedes and retards the natural anil
growing tendency of city people for
buildr.ig and living in the country.
Speak a Cheerful Word.
Did you ever go out in the morning
with a heart so depressed and saddened
that a pall seemed spread all over tho
world? But on meeting some friend
who spoke cheerfully for a minute or two,
if only upon indifferent matters, you
have felt yourself wonderfully lightened.
Every child dropping into your house on
an errand has brought iii a ray of sun
shino which did not depart when he went
his way again. It is a blessed thing to
speak a cheerful word when you can.
“The heart knoweth its own bitterness”
the world over, and good words to such
hearts “are like apples of gold in pic
tures of silver.” Even the strangers we
meet casually by the way, in the trav
elers’ waiting-room, are unconsciously
influenced by the tone we use. It is the
one with pleasant words on his lips to
whom strangers in strauge lands apply
for advice and direction in their perplex
ities. Take it as a compliment if some
wayfarer comes to you to direct him
which street or what train to take; your
manner has struck him as belonging to
one he can trust. It is hard sometimes
to speak a pleasant word when the shad
ows rest on our hearts; but nothing will
tend more to lighten our spirits than
doing good to one another. When you
have no opportunity to speak a cheering
word, you can often send a full beam of
sunshine into the heart of some sorrow
ing, absent friend, by sitting down and
writing a good, warm-hearted letter.
Stealing Another’s Comfort.
Any one -who has stopped over night
at a large hotel has been disturbed in the
,Binall hours by persons walking in the
halls as heavily and carelessly as if it
were mid-day. Guests who are up late
seem thoughtless of the quiet of thoso
wrapped in slumber. Such conduct is sel
fishnese of winch any sensible person
ought to bea shamed.
A grave gentleman at the Fifth Avenue
Hotel once complained of it to the genial
clerk. “lam surprised,” he said,“ that
vou harbor thieves in this house.”
“Thieves, sirf Harbor thieves?
What do you mean, sir? Explain, if
you please. ”
“ I mean that I had something stolen
from me last night by one of your
guests.”
‘ ‘ We are all exposed to sneak thieves,
sir.”
“Bnt this was not a sneak thief. It
was a guest in the house, sir, and quar
tered as comfortably as I was.”
“This is very" extraordinary, sir.
What was stolen from you, sir, and at
what hour?”
The gentleman answered with great
earnestness. “At 2 o’clock this morn
ing some most precious sleep was stolen
from me by one of your guests, and with
a pair of boots.”
Was not this guest one of the meanest
of sneak thieves?
If an untruth is (mly a day old, it is
called a lie; if it is a year old 'it, is called
a falsehood: but if is a century old it
is called a leg- ; 1.
The Hartwell Sun.
By AYERS & McGILL.
VOL. V. NO. ir>.
1111.-KI>U.
BY ALTIII 0. CMBILL
* Vom tht German a/ Gcttto.]
[Erl-Rln*, in Oerm&n, in th name tppHtd to •
poetical, personified, natural jiower, which, secord
n to (tanuau poetical authentic#, dwell* in the re
**•** of the foreat, and prepare* mtaohlef and ruin
'or man, and especially for children, through dalu
dre *ed action. J
Who rider at night through tha foreat ao wild?
[t Is the father with hla darling child;
3e’s shielding hla pet with hla loving arm
from the roaring tempest—from every harm.
* My son, what trouble* ao thy anxloua sight 7 ”
‘ Oh, see ! ’tie the Erl-King by yonder light—
The tarnlile Erl-King—speak not ao loud ”
‘Child, ’tla but the ragged edge of a cloud."
THE SPECTER SPEAKS.
‘Oh, beautiful child ! with me come and live;
Thou’lt share all the Joys my power can give;
Many gay-colored flower* bloom on the hore;
Uy mother awaits thee—toy* a full store.”
•‘Father, Oh, father! and did you not hear
The Erl-King whisper, ao low and ao near 7”
•‘Beatlll, my child; my darling, be at ease;
Twa* but the wild gale howling 'mid the trees.”
SPECTER.
"Oh, beauteous ehlld! wilt thou go with me?
My daughter, ao lovely, shall care for thee;
[.lghtly ehe’U bear thee 'mid the whirling dance,
And hug thee and kiss thee at every chance.”
“ Father, Oh, father! seent not over there
Erl-King's pale daughter gliding through the air 7”
“ No, my dear boy, thy thought* air wild to-ulght,
'Tla the willow gray waving in the moonlight.”
SPECTER.
“ Come, come, silly child, no longer delay,
Or else from thy father I’ll tear thee away.”
“ Father, dear father, now hold to me tight,
Or Erl-King will drag me away to-night."
The father, shuddering, ’mid dread alarms.
Clasped tighter the dying child in hie anus;
Swiftly riding, he gained the old homestead,
But in hla arms hla darling ohtld was dead.
Elephants and Tigers In South Africa
The district of Uitenhage is just now
rather overrun with wild animals of the
larger kind, and an hour’s ride from the
town would bring sportsmen into tho
haunts of elephants and tigers. On
Monday morning, as Mr. Fourie, of
Wolvekop, was coming into town, ho
passed through a large herd of elephants
at the Coega. Gen. Nixon’s estate, Bal
moral, seven miles from town, is actually
overrun with the huge animals; and they
have become very troublesome on the
general's farm, Doom Kraal, occupied
by Col. Aehburner, tearing down the
fences, destroying the crops, and scatter
ing even the prickly pears in all direc
tions. The place is about eight miles
from Uitenhage. The farm, Kamachs,
which adjoius Uitenhage, and may be
reached in twenty minutes, is just now
subject to great destruction from porcu
pines, bush bucks, and tigers.
On Sunday afternoon last Mr. Harry
Marshall, of her majesty’s customs, nar
rowly escaped an encounter with a tiger.
He was spending the day with Mr. Clarke
at the farm Kamachs, and in the after
noon went for a quiet stroll, gun in
hand, along the kloof to the favorite
picnic spot near the dam, and suddenly
came upon a tiger drinking at the stream.
He impulsively leveled the gun at the
beast and pulled the trigger, but the cap
missed tire. The animal then, with a
snarl, ascended the celebrated wild fig
tree, the bark of which is scored all over
with the names of pleasure-seekers who
have from time to time visited the spot.
Mr. Marshall attempted a second time to
fire, with no better result than at first.
It then occurred to him that it might
possibly be fortunate for him that his
gun refused fire, for had he wounded the
brute it certainly would have attacked
him.
Mr. Clarke's ostrich camps have been
greatly disturbed lately by tigers, the
spoors of which have been found in the
camp, and on one occasion the tiger’s
hair found on the claw of a bird indicated
an encounter, in which the ostrich came
off victor. A grand hunt upon the farm
will shortly take place, at which some
exciting sport may be expected. The
danger that Mr. Marshall escaped may
be guessed by those who remember the
crouching and scratching that Mr. Hay
ward, of Great Winterbrook, received
some years ago from a wounded tiger.
The brute had been caught in a trap,
and sprung at Mr. Hayward as he ap
proached, literally biting his wrist
through and scalping him. Mr. Mar
shall's animal has not yet been captured,
although parties have been on the look
out for him ever since. Uitenhage
Times.
The Wrong Leg.
The Portland Advertiser tells the fol
lowing story : There was an eminent
sergeant-at-law some years ago who had
a cork leg that was a triumph of artistic
deception. None but liis intimates knew
for certain which was the real and which
was the sham limb. A wild young wag
of the “uttar bar,” who knew the ser
geant pretty well, once thought to util
ize this knowledge of the sergeant’s
secret to take in a newly-fledged young
barrister. The sergeant was addressing
a special jury at Westminister in his usual
earnest and vehement style, and the wag
whispered to his neighbor, “You see
how hot old buzfuz is over his case;
now, I’ll bet you a sovereign I’ll run
this pin into his leg up to the head, and
he’ll never notice it, he’s so absorbed in
his case. He’s a most extraordinary
man in that way.” This was more than
the greenhorn could swallow, so he took
the bet. The wag took a large pin from
his waistcoat, and leaning forward drove
it up to the head into the sergeant’s leg.
A yell that froze the blood of all who
heard it, that made the hair of the jury
stand on end and caused the Judge’s wig
almost to fall off, ran through the court.
“ By Jove, it’s the wrong leg, and I’ve
lost my money,” exclaimed the dismayed
and conscience-stricken wag, quite re
gardless of the pain he had inflicted
upon the learned sergeant.
The province of Buenos Ayres pos
sesses 5-1,000,000 sheep, of which 18,-
000.000 belong to Irish settlers.,
HARTWELL, GA.,'DECEMBER 8. ISBO. WHOLE NO. 223.
Miss Mnlock’s Romance.
It was “John Halifax,” published af
ter she was thirty years old, that brought
her fame, and made the task of earmug
her daily broad a little less arduous.
Seven years later she was awarded a
pension of three hundred dollars a year.
She was nearly forty when she married.
Iu 1865 Cajit. George Lillie Craik, an offi
cer in the English army, who lmd been in
the Crimea, met Miss Mulock, and, al
though some years her junior, addressed
her and succeeded in winning her hand.
They proved most congenial companions,
and their married life was all they could
wish, with hut one exception. The w>w
man whose love for children amounted
almost to a passion, who wrote “ Philip,
My King,” was denied the happiness of
feeling baby fingers upon her cheek or
of ever hearing herself culled mother.
This was a severe sorrow, but even this
pain has been partly assuaged. Strangely
enough, one dark, rainy night, while she
and her husband were speaking of chil
dren and of the joy and brightness they
bring to so many dwellings, there came
a loud ring at tho bell ami then a furious
knocking. On opening tlie door, lying
upon the sill they found a basket en
closed in many wrappings. When they
were removed* they discovered a lovely
little baby only a few hours old. Tho
child was wrapped in one roll nfter an
other of India muslin, and on its breast
was pinned a note begging Mrs. Craik to
be kind to the little waif thus brought to
her door, and assuring her that no mean
blood flowed iu its veins. Tenderly sho
lifted tho little thing in her arms, and
her heart opened as warmly to take in
the poor little deserted creature. They
called the child Dorothea, God-given,
and she became their legally adopted
daughter, as tenderly cherished and as
passionately loved as though she had
been their own.
Where the Smash Was.
Reporter—-“I wish to ascertain some
of the the particulars about the recent
accident on your road. ”
Superintendent—“ What road?”
Rep.—“ Why, your road?”
Bupt.—“l own no road."
liep.—“Are you not the Superinten
dent of the Go-to-Blazes-Smash-and-
Crasli Railroad?”
Supt.—“l am. Why didn't you ask
that before?”
Rep.—“ Well, now, about this acci
dent”
Supt.—“ What accident?”
Rep.—“ Why, the recent accident.
Supt.- “There has been no rooent ac
cident. ”
Rep.—“ Why, didn’t a train run off
the track yesterday, smash half a dozen
cars to kindling wood and kill five or six
people ?”
Supt.—“ Where?”
Rep.—“At Gimlet Falls Station.”
Supt.—“ Where is Gimlet Falls?”
Rep.—“ Where? Don’t you know?”
Supt.—“l am not called upon to
know. Provo to mo where Gimlet Falls
is.”
Rep.—“ Well, this is cheek.”
Supt.—“No, it ain’t; it’s business.”—
New York Graphic.
Andre’s Prophetic Poem.
During the years 1779 and 1780 Andre
was on duty in New York, and took a
leading part in tho social life of that
city. He accompanied Sir Henry Clin
ton at the capture of Stony Point, Juno
1, 1779, and wrote as aid-de-camp upon
the glacis of Fort Lafayette the terms of
capitulation conceded to the garrison.
He kept a careful diary and frequently
wrote squibs in prose and verse for tho
loyalist papers, and in August, 1780,
composed at Elizabethtown a burlesque
poem entitled “The Cow Chase,” in
three cantos, amounting to seventy
quatrains. The subject was the attack
made by Gen. Wavne upon a block
house hear Bull’s Ferry, two or three
miles below Fort Lee, in order to drive
in some cattle from Bergen Neck. By a
singular coincidence the last canto of
this poem was printed in Ilivington’i
Gazette, Sept. 23, 1780, the day of the
poet’s capture at Tarrytown. The last
stanza is as follows :
ADd now I’ve closed my epic itraln ;
I tremble an I show it,
Leet tbi* lame warrior drover, Wayne,
Should ever catch the poet.
It happened, singularly enough, that
Gen. Wayne was the commander of the
post at Tappan at the time of Andre’s
execution. The original of the “Cow
Chase,” in Andre’s autograph, is still
preserved, and underneath the above
quoted lines an American pen has added
the coarse commentary :
When the epic ntraln wm un£,
The poet by the neck wan hung. _
Oriental “Progress.”
What in the modem slang of social
science is called “progress” is breaking
out in Oriental lands where hitherto it
has been kept under with little difficulty.
But the notions peculiar to countries of
railroads and steamboats seem to accom
pany that sort of locomotion wherever it
goes. Thus in Constantinople within
a few years the Turks are beginning to
go to public houses and drink liquor
opeDly, even in the neighborhood of the
mosques. This is in the face of the
strict prohibition of the Koran, which
enjoins total abstinence. The women,
too, imitating their European sister-, are
gradually dropping the veils which con
ceal their features. They now wear a
thin gauze veil which practically hides
nothing; but on seeing an official ap
proach, they drop a heavier one. Still
further East the English magistrate in
the district of India where the “car of
Juggernaut ” is brought out has, before
allowing it to move on its annual proces
sion of crushing the faithful under its
wheels, ordered patent safety-brakes
upon tne car.
Devoted to Hart County.
OUR YOUNG FOLKS,
riton tiik i BiDU'.
They tell rae In bom r long
Throe month*
Bit* whether they arc right or wrong
1 hardly know.
Ia! I'p, I smile, I cannot crawl,
But I can cry—
Al present I am rather small—
a A babe am I.
Tta changing lights of aun and shad*
V Are baby toy*
Tli. flowers and birds are not afraid
Of hahy-hovK
So*-# day I’ll wish that I could ba
A bird and My;
At prevent 1 can’t wish- you aeo
’ , A babe am l.
I'imuiil In m I'ro*.
The sin hail arisen when Gita awoke.
She lived at tho top of n tall old house
with hai grandmathor, ami both were
poor, when sho had put on her thin
cotton goivn, and smoothed her hair with
her small brown hands, Gita nut down
stairs lightly; and those stairs—some
crooked stone stops in a dark passage
—would have broken our necks to de
scend. Hie came out in a narrow street,
with tho narrow houses almost meeting
overhead, and steep paths or flights of
steps lem dug down to the shore. Tho
town w* i Mon tone, in the South of
France, with the Iroundry line of Italy
not half milo distant. At ons end of
the street was visible the blue sky and
two chur ’lies, yellow and white, on an
open sq. are, with towers, whero tho
bells wer ringing.
Gita fe't iu lior pocket for a crust of
hard breed, and began to eat. This was
her breal fast, and if she had been richer
she wouln have drank a little black coffee
with it. As it was, sho paused at the
fountain, where the women were gossip
ing as they drew water iu buckets, and
placed Ik r mouth under tho spout.
Raphael came along, and greeted her.
Raphael,- a tall young follow with bright
eyes, a face the color of bronze, and a
little black mustache, was the son of a
moreliant who kept goats and donkeys
for tho visitors who came here every year,
The goats furnished rich milk for the in
valids to drink, while the ladies and chil
dren road the donkeys. Gita found
Raphael very handsome.
He woro a curious straw liat with tho
brim turned up, a shirt striped with red,
blue pantaloons, and a yellow sash about
liis wuist. Olio could see he cstoeme' 1
himself rather a dandy. In turn, Raphael
found Gita tho prettiest girl of his ac
quaintance, with her large black eyes,
brown face, and white teeth. Besides,
Gita was amiable and did not mock at
him who: he walked on the promenade
on Burnley with his hat on one side, and
a cigarette in his mouth.
"I have asked tho consent of my pa
rents to our marriage,” said Raphael.
“They refuse, unless you have a dower
of at least a hundred francs. We must
wait. "
Gita sighed and shook her head" as she
pursued her way down to tho shore. In
these countries the young people must
obtain tho consent of their parents to
marry, and the bride should have a
dowry. Gita had not a penny; Raphael’s
father might as well have asked him to
bring the moon as one hundred francs.
Grandmother was seated under an arch
way, with her little furnace before her,
roasting chestnuts. Grandmother, a
wrinkled old woman, with a red handker
chief wound about her head, was a chest
nut merchant. The sailors, children,
and Italians coming over the border
bought her wares, and when she was not
employed in serving them she twisted
liax on a distaff.
“Raphael’s father needs a dowry of ono
hundred francs,” said Gita, as grand
mother gave her a few chestnuts.
“Ah, if you were a lemon girl!” said
grandmother, beginning to twist tho
fiax.
Gita poised a basket on her head, took
a white stocking from her pocket and be
gan to knit as sho walked away. The
women of the country carry all burdens
on their heads. You may see a mother
with a mound of cut grass on her head,
dandling a little baby in her arms as she
moves along. Grandmother had been a
lemon girl in her day, but Gita was not
strong enough. The lomon girls bring
the fruit on their heads many miles, from
tho lemon groves down to the ships, whon
they are sent to America and other dis
tant lands.
When you next taste a lemonade at a
Sunday-school picnic, little reader, ro
member how far the lemon has traveled
to furnish you this refreshing drink.
Gita went along the shore knitting, her
empty basket tilting on her head. The
blue "Mediterranean Sea sparkled as far
as the eye could reach, and broke on the
pebbles of the beach in waves as clear as
crystal. Boon she turned back toward
the hills, following a narrow path lie
tween the high garden walls, passed un
der a railroad bridge and entered an olive
garden. Rhe worked here all day, gath
ering up the little black olives which fall
from the trees, much as children gather
nuts in the woods at home. Other women
were already at work; their dresses of
gay colors, yellow and red, showed against
the gray back-ground of the trees. A
boy beat the branches with a long pole.
Gita began to work with the rest. Hhe
did not think much about the olive tree,
although it was a good friend. She was
paid twenty sous a day to gather the ber
ries from the ground, which were then
taken to the crushing mill np the ravine
to be made into oil. Gita ate the green
lemons! plucked from the trees as a child
of the North would eat apples, but she
loved the good olive oil 1 setter. When
the grandmother made a feast, it was to
fry the little silver sardines in oil, so crisp
and brown.
The olive tree is a native of Asia Minor,
and often mentioned in tin; Bible. Home
of the trees in the garden where Gita
now worked were so old that the Romans
saw them when they conquered the
world.
$1.50 Per Annum
At noon the olive-pickers paused to
rest. Gita went away alone, and ate the
handful of chestnuts given her by grand
mother. When she returned to the town
at night she would havo another bit of
bread and a raw onion. She seated her
self on the edge of the ravuie, and
thought about Raphael as she munched
her nuts. Below this path traversed the
ravine, and climbed the opposite slope
to the wall of a pretty villa, one of tho
hoimes occupied for the winter by rich
strangers. Gita looked at the villa, with
its window shaded by lace curtains, bal
conies, and terraces, where orange trees
were covered with golden balls of fruit.
"If I were rich like that 1 would have
soup every day, sometimes made of
pumpkin and sometimes with macaroni
in it, sho thought
Then she turned over a stone with her
heavy shoe, and it rolled down the hill.
Gita uttered a orv. The stone had oov
ered a hole at the root of the olive tree
whero she sat, far away from the other
workers. In the hole she saw a green
frog; she dropped on her knees to look at
it more closely. Yes, it was a green
frog. How did it come there? She
touched it with her fingers; the frog did
not move or croak. Then she took it
out carefully. The frog was one of those
pastelioard boxes which appear each year
in the shop windows of Paris for Easter
presents, in oompany with fish, lobsters,
and shells.
Gita raised the lid. Inside were bank
bills and a lizard. She knew lizards very
well; they were always whisking over
the stone walls; but then those were of
a brown tint, while this one was white
until she lifted it, when it sparkled like
a dewdron. The lizard was an ornament
made of diamonds. Gita held her breath
and closed her eyes. She believed her
self asleep. Soon she roso. took the box
in her hand, and crossing the ravine, l>e
gan to climb the path to the villa above.
As she reached the door a pony-car
riago drove up. A big servant with
many buttons on his coat told her to go
away. Gita paused, holding the box.
The pale lady in the carriage, who was
wrapped in furs, motioned Her to ap
proach. Quickly the girl ran forward
and held out the frog.
“I found it in a hole at the foot of the
olive tree,” she explained. “It must be
long to this house. ”
Tho lady took the box and opened it,
emptying the contents on her lap.
There lay the diamond lizard, and the
roll of French back-notes.
“Yon see that Pierre was a dishonest
servant, although nothing was found on
him,” said the lady to those alxmt her.
He must havo hidden thiH box in the
olive grove to return from Nico later and
find it.”
Gita listened with her mouth and eyes
wide open. The lady looked at her and
smiled.
“You are a good girl,” sho said.
Then she selected ono of the bills and
gave it to Gita. It was a note of one
hundred francs:
“Now I can marry Raphael! sho
cried.
Raphael was standing besule grand
mother's cliustnut-roaster when both
saw Gita running towards them, her
checks red, aud her oyes flashing liko
stars. Sho had to tell all about tho frog>
not only to them, but to tho neighbors.
Ah for grandmother, she could not hear
the storv often enough. When she had
been a lemon girl no such luck h'ad be
fallen her.
“Who would havo thought of finding
a wedding dowry in a frog?” laughed
Raphael.
Gita and Raphael are soon to bo mar
ried in tho yellow church on tho hill.
The olive-pickers in the grove seek for
something besides the (lurk berries; they
hope to find a green frog under a atone,
containing money and a diamond lizard;
but this will never again happen.
How a Snake Move*.
A snake when on the ground moves
often with considerable rapidity. The
head is slightly raised, and the body
and tail progress by means of the pe
culiar grouping power ef the skin and
ribs of the underneath parts, which en
ables consecutive contraction and elon
gation to occur. The movement is more
or lees flat with the earth, and thesnake
never coils upward, as is often figured
in old and some new paintings and en
gravings, It can erect its head and
much of the neck and fore part of the
body, and thia is also done when the
creature is in horizontal coils, and
quiescent. On moving up a stone or
tree the head, neck and much of the
body may be placed against the more or
less vertical object, and a small portion
only of the body may be left on the
ground, but in this position the snake is
liable to fall sideways. On moving up a
tree they do not coil themselves round
and round it like a rope, but they may
do this when still. It is wonderful how
snakes move along and between Isiughs,
and, taking a turn round one with tneir
tail end, swing and look for food, and
also how they will make themselves up
into a bunch on a fork of a tree, and re
mains there without falling. They swim
in an undulating manner, but the body
is wriggled on the same plane as the sur
face of the water, and not at right angles
to it, but in rushing at their prey, both
in the water and on land, there is more
or less upward or downward bending of
part of the body, and a rapid thrust of
the head forward.
The recovery of Mary McAfee who
bail been abed* for seven years with a
spinal disease, at Stanford, Ky., is at
tributed by her to prayer. A party of
Free Methodists prayed incessantly at
her bedside for seven hours, and at the
end of that time she was well
Adventnrers of An .Eronnnfc.
Tho Bt. Petersburg Herald contain*
the particulars of the adventure of the
Russian mount Rudolph, who ascended
in a balloon, and had l>een several days
reported missing. "The day selected
for the flight was not a good one, the wind
Wing strong and boisterous. My com
panion was Professor Baranovsky, of the
Meteorological Observatory. On enter
ing the car, I sang out to the twelve
sapors holding it, to ‘let go.’ Aa the
men dropped tne ropes a sudden gust of
wind struck the balloon and dashed it
against some neigliljoring trees, the
branches of which tpre a hole in the silk
liefore it had time to rise. I threw out
ballast, but to no purpose. 'Hie oar
drifted along the ground till it ap
proached a lake, when I begged the Pro
feesor to leave it, with his instruments.
The sailors, running up just then seized
hold of the ropes and unable*! Baranov
sky to get out. They begged me earnest
ly’to do the same, on account of the
dangerous condition of the balloon, but
I refused. The Professor being clear of
the car, I shouted to them to‘let go.’
All obeyed tlie summons except one
man, who was carried several feet into
the air and dropped amid a general roar
of laughter. After this the balloon sailed
along tolerably well, and flow for fifty mile*
through tlie air, when, the gas lieing ex
hausted, it fell near the village of
Rootohi. In a very fow minutes it waa
surrounded by men and women, who
proceeded to tear it to pieoes, and ap
propriate all tlie articles in the car, in
cluding a fifteen guinea binocular glass,
forgotteu by Professor Baranovsky. In
all probability I should also have ex
perienced rough usage but for the op
portune arrival of a Colonel of the Im
perial Guards and two soldiers from a
neighboring chateau. For a few min
utes tlie peasants refused to release me,
and defied tlie Colonel, but his dstor
mined attitude and throats to send for
more soldiers, coupled with the present*
of a few roubles to buy them a drink,
indtioed them to relinquish me, though
not roy property. The Colonel very
kindly took me home, and afterward put
me in his carriage, with the balloon, and
giving me two soldiers to protect me,
sent mo off to the railroad station.”
Hope for the Drunkard.
If inebriety is curable, as the Boston
Traveler asserts that it is, by the follow
ing method, then is there hope for tha
victim of this base passion- dnnk. That
journal makes the following assertion:
“An intemperate person can easily supply
himself with the remedies used at all the
inebriate asylums, iunl be his own physi
cian, at, his own home, without the neces
sary expense and publicity of visiting
the Washingtonian Home or any other
public institution. His laboratory need
only contain a small quantity of cayenne
popiier, a pot of concentrated extract of
beef, and a few grains of bromide of
potassium. When tho desire for alco
holic drink recurs, make a tea from tha
cayenne pepper as strong as can be taken
with any degree of comfort; sweeten it
with milk and sugar and driuk. This
tea will supply the place that a glass of
liuuor would fill and will leave no
injurious effect behind. Repeated
daily as often ph tho npetito returns, it
will be but a few days beforvthe sufferer
will have become disgusted with the
taste of the pepper, and with the appear
ance of this disgust disappears tho love
of liquor.
“The fact is proved every day. The
extract of beef is to be made into beef
tea, according to the direction on the jxit,
in such quantities as may be needed for
tho time being, and furnishes a cheap,
easily digested, and healthy nutriment
—it being made to stay on the stomach
whon heavier articles of fisxi would be
rejected. Tho bromide of potassium is
to he used carefully, and only in case of
extreme nervousness, the (lose being
from fifteen to twenty grains, dissolved
in water. This is a public exhibit of the
method of treatment adopted at the in
ebriate asylums. In addition thereto the
drinking man should surround himself
with influences which tend to make him
forgot the degrading associations of the
bar-room and lift him upward. He
should endeavor, so far as his business
avocations will permit, to sleep, bathe,
and oat regularly, and obey the laws of
health. Bv tho adoption of this course
energetically and sincerely, no man who
has the will to reform can faileto do so.
Hundreds and thousand can attest tha
truth of those statements.
The Chinese (juen*.
A woman’s necklace and bracelets il
lustrate the familiar saving, ‘Time
changes, and we change witn it.” They
are the revival of the era when woman,
treated as a slave, was handcuffed and
wore an iron collar.
The Chinese queue, or plait of hair,
coiled on the head, was once a badge of
servitude imposed by the Mancheeswhen
they took the country. The origin of
the appendage lias long since been for
gotten, and u Chinaman now values hi*
queue os he values his life. To lie with
out one is a social disgrace.
A Chinese gentleman was once riding
through Shanghai in a jinnyrickshaw,
the two-wheeled carriage drawn by a
coolie, which China has imported from
Japan. A jolt or two caused his plait to
fall from his head and over the side of
tho carriage. The end, the queue, being
long, was soon caught in the axle, which
gradully wound it up.
The unfortunate man shouted to the
coolie to stop. He, thinking the shout*
were commands to hasten, went faster
and faster. Just as the poor fellow wa*
being dragged out of the carriage, an
English sailor saw tho plight he was in.
Drawing his knife, lie cut the queue
from the Chinaman’s head. Jack thought
he had done a kindly act, and was not a
little surprised to receive curses instead
of thanks. He had saved the man’s life,
but disgraced him in the eyes of hi* fel
lows.
The Boston Transcript says that
civilian is only another form of barbar
ism, or words to that effect. We think
so every time we see a selfish brute tak
ing up a whole seat in a railway carriage
while some pale-faced woman or tired
man is compelled to travel through the
entire length of the train in order to find
a gentleman or a lady.
Fond parent to his son: “Yes, San
Francisco is the place to get on in.
Look at James, he started without a
penny, and has lately failed for SIOO,OOO.
Of course that’s an extreme case. I
don’t expect yon to do as well as that.
Still, with honesty and industry, I see
no reason why you should not, in a few
years, fail for 850,000,”