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“Our Ambition is to make a Yeracions Work, Reliable in its t Statements, Candid in its Conclnstons, and Jnst in its Views, ”
VOL. I.
The cause of the cold weather hang
ing on so late last spring is laid to the
number of ice-bergs drifting down from
the Arctic regions.
Shortsightedness in California is at
tributed by some physicians to the ab
sence of color in that country, the pre
vailing tint being dull brown or drab.
In the land of perpetual sunshine white
houses and white concrete sidewalks are
said to be most injurious to the sight.
The deep-sea soundings which have
recently been made in the Atlantic under
the au spices of the Royal Irish Academy,
Dublvn, proved that at a depth of ovet
700Q feet beneath the surface of the
ocean exists animal life possessing both
variety and vigor. The ocean’s bed is
one of the most remarkable pieces of
furniture on the globe.
A gentlemen in South Africa has sen!
!to London the back of the case of th&
-watch formerly belonging to the Prince
; Imperial, of France, who met so tragic a
i death in the Dark Continent. It is
slightly battered and bears the crown
and his monogram. A gentleman bought
it of a Zulu. The watch was made in
1818 for the Empress Eugenie as a
present for her son.
There is no better soil or climate in
the world for raising coffee and sugar, as
serts the Farm , Field and Stockman, than
that of Mexico. With a little importa
tiou of improved machinery, an exten
sion of the railway system and improved
transportation in general and a consider
able infusion of YYrnkee enterprise and
■energy, Mexico might supply this conti
raent with both sugar and coffee.
Explosives .more powerful than dy
namite are constantly being discovered.
Melanite and bellite are among the latest
of these, and now it is announced, by the
New York World, that another more
potent than, any heretofore perfected has
been made by a Russian chemist. Gun
powder is gradually taking its place as
an old-fashioned and comparatively
haririless agent of destruction.
1
Another ocean greyhound has beaten
dhe record. The big Etruria arrived at
New York, having practically sailed from
Queenstown in six days, her time from
Queenstown to Sandy Hook being six
days, two hours and twenty-six minutes.
She plunged through the fog for three
days at th'j rate of twenty miles an hour,
but fortunately no sailing vessel or stray
iceber g hapened across her track.
f According to the Young Men’s Christ
San Association “Year Book for 1883,’
which has just been issued, there are
1240 associations in America and 3804 in
the world. The American associations
have a membership of 175,000, own
buildings valued at $5,609,265, and have
a total net property of $7,261,658. There
are 752 men who, acting as Secretaries
and assistants, devote their entire time
to the work of the different branches of
the associations.'
i
j '“New York and Chicago,” says the
Epoch, of the former city, “can both be
held up as marvels in their growth of
population. According to the thirteenth
annual report of the Chicago Board of
Trade, Chicago contains now about
800,000 souls as against 4853 in 1840.
In 1S40 the population of New York
City was 312,710; at present it is the
neighborhood of 1,600,000. Both New
York and Chicago are admirably situ
ated for a steady increase of population
—our harbor being oue of the finest in
the whole world, and as to Chicago,
Eippincott’s Gazetteer puts it correctly
in stating that ‘one of the principal
causes of the prosperity and growth ol
the city (of Chicago) is its position at
the head of the great chain of lakes,
which form the grandest medium of in
ternational navigation in the world. >»
A comparatively new- and very' pecu
liai society, which is not recorded in the
national list of associations, known as
the Shut In Society, has just been dis
covered by the Atlanta Constitution.
This singular organization consists ol
about 1800 members who are scattered
throughout :he world, never hold meet
ings, never see each other, but are ac
qnainted only by correspondence and ac
exchange of photographs. It consists
for tho most part of invalids who have
been confined to their rooms for the
greater part of their lives, hence the
peculiar name. The society was organ
ized in August 1885, bp some charitable
persons who love to see the helpless
happy. They exchange letters of sym
pathy, and all, confined as they are, work
together for the happiness of the others.
Such an organization should prosper, ai
it has no expenses, and adds infinitely to
‘he comfort, joy and happiness of the
invalids.
GRAY, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, AUGUST 18, 1888.
r RIENDS.
Oh, give me friends!
rhough other wants may wear my life away.
Though all the days seem cold and dark and
gray,
I shall not question that which fortune sends
If round me press a host of kindly friends.
I ask not wealth,
Nor from the ever open hand of Fate
I crave no robe of grace, nor place of state,
For in the hope which fickle longing lends
l seek no gift of fate, but countless friends.
And thus through life,
Though round me falls the shadow and the
care
Of bitter sorrows that I scarce can bear,
I shall not heed them if my faith but roads
The mist that shrouds me from uiy host of
friends.
—Madeton Granileg.
EM’LINE’S surrender
BY WILLIAM PEIiRY BROWN.
The early rains had supplemented the
big thawing of the February snows upon the
the Citico mountains, and the three forks of
River thundered down the
wild gorges of the Unakas with an in
creasing of the power that cheered the spirits
A tall loggers in Engle’s Basin.
ing hair young tossed mountaineer, with flow
playfully holding roughly back, stood
the of the a precipice struggling called girl over
Buzzard verge the
whirl of Roost, that towered over a
at the waters lower surging side the through the
gorge of basin. The
girl was robust and muscular, yet this
son of anak held her easily with one
hand, while he saucily shook a finger of
the other as he said laughingly:
“Ef you’lows ter fool me ez ye hev
some of the yutlier boys in the basin,
you’ve jist gone ’nd treed the wrong coon.
Hit aira fact, Em’line.”
she “You, Curt Cable!” she screamed, for
was more alarmed than her rude ad
mirer thought her; “turn me loose
turn me loose, I say!”
“My, Em’line, if I turns ye loose, ye’ll
fall, shore.”
He still held her, as gently as he
could, while she clung to his extended
arm, her usually ruddy face now pale
with anger and fear. At length, with a
laugh, he pulled her toward him, half
embracing her with one arm. But, as
she felt herself rudely pressed, she struck
him a stinging blow on the face and re
leased herself with a supreme effort, then
sank down with her hands over her
face, sobbing violently. Though the
blow must have hurt, he Muue<f ^dosf
humorodly, bent over her and said:
“Thar now, .Em’line, tit fer tat.
You’ve paid me back; now I want ter
know ef you really air tryin’ to sarve me
like ye do the jest of the hoys ez makes
out like they wants ter marry ye. Ye
know I love ye, Em’line. I’ve be’n a
courtin’ of ye monster time,’ au I’re jest
erblig'd ter hev a : uswer.”
As he spoke, she crushed hack the
sobs, ancl now looked up with red eys,
angrily flaming.
“Hev ye 1” I—I’d see you in yore
grave you’ve afore treated I’d me.” marry ye, after the "way
“Why, Em’line-”
“Don’t ye Em’line me nary bit more.
Thar’s no endurin’ of ye, ’nd from this
yer day on, 1 wants ye ter keep ter yer
self ’ud lemme erlone. Ef some yuther
boys wants ter talk ter me taint nary
bizness o’ yourn, Curt ( able. ”
She rose and confronted him—a
breathing statue of feminine resentment
-a Katharine in homespun, crushing
this would-be Petruehio. As he slowly
comprehended her meaning his smile
melted into au expression of sadness, as
he replied:
“That’s all right, Em’line. Y*ou kin
let on jist ez much ez you pleases; but
I knows that you know how much I’ve
loved ye, ’nd waited for ye; and ef yore
ago in’ ter let my foolin’ ’lid glabbin’
change ye, I’ll b’lieve what the boys sez,
of ye air true. You don’t kcer fur
nnthin cep'n ter make fools on us, but
after this ye caint hev yore way long o’
me, Em Kymer, for I’m done with ye.”
Em’line stood motionless while toe hot
flush of anger slowly receded before a
pallor her of words. after-rising dismay at the result
of The lashing of the tor
rent below fell shiveringly upon her ear,
like an audible echo of coming trouble.
The whistle of a mocking bird singing
from the fox grape vines over the
foaming abyss, sounitjd like a rasping
counter irritant to the thunders below.
Yet overhead, through the .March air
and sunshine, the clear sky basked in the
most restful and soothing of colors. Re
ceding from the basin on every side the
green and saffron slopes rose, browning
with distance, until they kissed the
heavens, apparently far above all terres
trial care and passion.
Y r et here she was—the queen of hearts
among these mountain wilds—balked
and tortured by the only man out of a
half score of suitors she had ever owned
to herself that she really cared for. lie
had accused her of trifling, of heurtless
ness, of insincerity. Had lie not spoken
with some degree of truth? Without
knowing the name, she felt herself to be
ing a coquette, with realizing the delight of toy
the hearts of others while her
own remained untouched.
Yet, was her own heart really invul
nerable? Standing there, with the
beauty and turmoil of that wild scene
enveloping things her, she began to feel that
were not altogether as they had
seemed to be. Nature was somehow be
reft of its usual charm. Without the
sense of Curt Cable’s devotion—on which
she had leaned, even while she tortured
him—her small atom of the world was
growing very cheerless.
But Em’line, as we have seen, had a
healthy fund of resentment to fall back
upon, and resentment loves to pick
flaws. After her first flood of dejection
had passed, she found some sad satisfac
tion in multiplying Curt’s foibles. His
rough humor, his careless pride, the
SSSE3SS her pride. she
Yet knew, though "these re
luctant to acknowledge* that
crudities were as foils to some nobler
attributes of character.
An hour later found her busy over the
raftsmen’s dinner in the low, long cabin,
planted centrally in Engle's basin before
the broadest sweep of the river above
Gripp’s herded cattle Gorge, Bill Bymer, and her father,
in summer logged on
.he Oilieo In winter, while hi, «e «d
daughter cooked for more or less of the
hands,
A boom was here stretched across the
river against which thousands of logs
were pushing, now hourly increased in
number by the floods in the upper
ranges, when the three prongs that hero
united came raging.
A score or more of mountaineers were
lounging , in to dinner from the woods ,
and river. Curt Cable was with them,
lmt his usually cheery voice was now
strangely silent, lie shuffled awkwardly
aljout, his gait and manner contrasting
oddly wuth Ins really handsome ligure
and face.
“Wal, Em’line,” said Dow Axloy, an
oft-rejected yet ever good natnred visi
tor of the girl's; what wur you adoin’
eroundthe Boost this mornin’? ’nd what’s
the matter long o’ eating Curt ennyhow?”
The men were and Lifeline set
down a plate of “cooked greens” before
Axlev with a thump, saying:
“Thar’s what I wuz adoin’. Ef hit
wern’t for me a projeckin’ eround hyu
’nd yander, hit air prashus little biled
poke ’nd mustifrd ez you alls’ud git. Ez
fer Curt, ef yore so cu’rous ter know what
yails him, you'd better ax him; I’m not
a mindin’Curt Cable’s bizness, myself.”
Curt said nothing, though his brow
contracted, while Em’line gloried in her
independence of speech at the expense of
an additional heartache as she noted his
increasing “Yet,” gloom. thought,
she reassuringly, “if
he wern’t a kecrin’ he w’n’dn’t shorely
look so mad.”
After dinner the men lounged 5 before
the door awhile. Over the basin the sky
was clear, yet afar off the Unakas still
wore the gray garb of mist and .storm.
The thunder of the rising river echoed
ominously woodman. to the practiced ear jot' the
“That thar roarin’ means more i dlin’
weather, ’nd the fraish jist a comiV ou.
A fraish air a good thing, but too n uoh
puddin’ ’ud make a dog sick. I’m si' U^e iu-d,
boys, ez that thar boom ’ll - © '
night.” immI . v ;
fin Tr11, TTj i i • -p-rf ~i j. 5
at Unakas. the rising vapors gathering W % J t LC
I —
“Ef them thar thunder heads burati up
yander, tliar’il be a jam iu Gripp’s Gorge
—shore.”
Gripp’s Gorge extends for nearly a
mile between two irregular lines of cliff,
in a manner not unlikely a rocky moun
tain canyon. The river sweeping fiercely
through, debouches into a more open
valley below. The “thunder heads” on
the “bigmountain’’ did burst; the floods
again descended, and about four o’clock
that afternoon the boom broke.
In less than an hour a jam was discov
ered near the lower end of the gorge,
The waters kept rising, while more logs
from above came thumping down by
the hundred. A ll swept through the
basin into the insatiable maw of Gripp’s
Gorge, and were hurled against the
shape masses between already piled jagged in every conceivable
tin; walls. Seme
thing must be at once done, or the jam
would soon assume such proportions as
to defeat Cable, all efforts with at dislodging others, entered it. 1
Curt two
the gorge from above in a “dug out” , j
canoe to see what could be done. It was j
a forlorn hope, and the danger so great
tliut Curt, who called for volunteers,
was about to go alone, despite all
dissuasive efforts on the part of others,
when these two came forward.
Em'iine sat in the front porch of her
father’s cabin and saw the canoe leave
the shore.
“Pap,” she asked, “who air them a
goin’ ter risk thur lives fer a jiasscl of
old logs:” approaching half
Air. Kymcr was at a
run from the riverside.
“You, Em’line,” he cried, “get out
that thar long inch rope we'uns uses ter
windlass tiic rafts with. Curt Cable,
’nd Jim Spratt, ’nd Doak Slover hev
gonc down the gorge ter the jam. We
—why don’t yer git that thar rope,
gall”
Em’line was standing speechless and
staring. Her father stamped his foot
impatiently, and she turned to look for
the rope like one in a dream, muttering
to herself:
“What ef Curt—never—comes back?”
Ten minutes later Bill Kymer and
several others huge were priecipice standing that on the
Black Cliff, a midway over-,
hung a large rock of the gorge,
rou nd which the waters boiled and
where the jam had formed. Em’line
had followed them, regardless of the
supper she was to prepare—regardless Cable had, of
all, save that Curt perhaps,
jione to his death, and—that she loved
him.
How the results of her own pretty re
sentment now mocked her as she reraem
bered his last attempt at reconciliation
which she had so causelessly repulsed,
She recalled his better traits—his gen
erosity, frankness and darintr. She
owned to herself that if he had been
rough and rude, she had been guilty of
many shortcomings, And now—now—
where was he?
How she climbed up the rugged,
perilous trail among the cliffs, clinging
to vines and bushes, hardly tearing her clothes
unheeded, she knew. Now she
stood beside her father on the Blaek
Cliff. Below was a savage roar and
white dash of spray, and the grinding
and thunder of descending by the logs. Her
ears, half deafened noise, were
strained for the sound of voices that
eastern mountains were yet bright with a
tender glow. The men were lowering
the rope, ller father* lying upon the
rock, peered down into the seethin"
abyss. At last he raised his head and
said;
“Thar’s two men on that thar rock, cz.
for ez 1 kin make out. Hit seems like
they’ve bruk loose a part of the ,mn.”
“Only knew two men he^Kown nan■" cried I m’line ”eS
She »d
over. What if the absent one was Curt
Cable? For the first time since the “big
meetin’s” down in the vullcv last fall she
prayed—prayed mind silently, yet with her
in an incoherent maze of fear and
suspense.
“That’s hit, boys,” she heard her
father say. “A lectio lower down__thar!
He liov kitched it. He’s got it yundor
.. las Now—pull ,. stiddy, boys, ’nd ,
arms.
don’t frazzle the rope.”
A human form was dangling over the
cauldron below', drenched with spray
and swinging wildly. Was it Curt ? If
the rope should break—she shuddered
and drewback from a sight that sickened
her. She hid her, face, and still heard
the horrible rasp of the rope over the
smooth edge of the c 1 . 1 SI', flu: hard breath
ing of the men—then, after a while, a
scraping heavy of feet, and Doak Blover’s
voice.
“Hit were a hard squeeze, boys, ’nd
a lectio the tightest place I wur ever
in.”
“Who uns on the rock ’sices you?”
she heard her father ask. His voice
was as the voice of oue afar oil.
“That thar is Jim Spratt.”
Her heart gave a fearful leap—she
gasped for breath.
“Wall, Doak, whar’s Curt?”
Oh! the sickening suspense of that
supreme instant of dread. It was mad
dening. She sprang to her feet as
Slover’s slow tones came like an echo of
doom.
“Why, Curt—he—wal, jist afore the
jam bruk loose, the eend of a log hit the
dug-out, kerbiml ’Nd Curt, lie went
down long with it.”
8he waited to hear no more, but with
out a word, passed behind the unheed
body ing group, conscious only that Curt’s
was somewhere below the gorge,
that she would find it—and then die.
“Lower away, boys,” Bill liymer
shouted again, but the words and the
safety of Jim Pratt were an indifferent
a ^ air t° her now. W as t,ierc ever misery
?° poignant as hers? any who
knew her have called ; iltn <t coquette
“He hev-^one ter Ills death,” she
groaned, “’thout ever a forgivin’ me. I
don’t kcer how sune I goes ter mine—
p’raps I’ll meet him thar.” Where?
The despairing woman, who with
dilated eyes and tom garments, with
gasping struggled breath along (ho and perilous trembling hands,
trail above
the gorge that led to calmer waters be
low, found the above query unexpee
edly answered.
The form of Curt Cable, drenched,
bruised, his clothing half torn away, his
face unnaturally pale, suddenly glided
room' d a her. sharp bend Her of limbs the path and beneath con
front sunk
her veight; she hid her eyes, exclaim
ing; “Lawd hev pity! Hit—air—his—
haant.”
She would have fallen down the slope,
but strong fanned arms grasped and her; a warm
breath her brow, as her eyes
responded, working she saw its will the with “haunt” her. ap
parently hands felt lifelike and the But
the voice she
now heard made her heart throb anew,
“No, Em’line, I haint quite a haunt
yet, tho’ I coin’d tolerable nur a gittin’
tur be one.”
“ Why—why—” she whimpered,
“Doak. he said ez a log hit ye’nd ye
went down—”
“Doak wuz skeered all thro’, ’nd
didn’t know half he wuz a sayin’, 1
reckin’. We’iins out out the jam. hut I
wuz m the dugout when a log struck it,
’nd I went down jest ahead of the jam
when hit bruk loose. Down below the
canoe log split herself passin’, on a rock. ’nd got I whirled le’pton
a ez wuz a
yundcr ’ud got knocked about purts
considerable. But I got ashore some
how, ’nd hyur I is. Now, Em’line,
what wuz ye a doin’ a gallopin’ down
hyur in thisli yer style?”
There was no answer. Yet her face
was and nestled warmly against his ragged
wet bosom.
“Now, Em’line, air ye still mad, oi
wuz Still ye jist a-puttin’ on?” stoic softly
round no reply; neck, yet who, one arm feeling that his
Curt’s
time had come at last, made the best—
or > as the ladies might say, the worst—
use of his power.
“Air ye ever a Em’line?” goin’ter git that way
l° n £ o’ me agin, of
The arm slightly tightened its clasp
His neck for an answer.
“There, Em’line, I wants ye ter kiss _
me right this smak in humiliation the mouth.”
G'it last was post
poned by the appearance of Bill Kymer stared
an d the other men. The father
at Curt and his daughter, then said to
His friends, with a knowing grin:
“He air a right peart kind of a corpse,
boys: jist erbout peart enuff ter cause a
weddin’ about liyur afore long, I reckon. ’
bib was right. Em’line had finally
surrendered, and when the affair thus
prophesied came off, as it did in due
time, half of her old beaux were there to
dance and congratulate with such heart
ns this result had left them .—Nashville
American.
“““™""
The official report on Russia for 1885
shows that the population of the empire
is 100,000.000. There were 4(5,204 deaths
by violence, 52,000 fires, 2377 dis
tilleries, 132,000 wine and beer shops,
245 sugar retineries, 8 universities, 38,-
531 Orthodox churches, 128~ Catholic,
708 Protestant, 340 synagogues and 3057
mosques.
The Civil War.
1°, j^nm^TmVwT^ , : T . . . , ^ rt ' . h . , 1 a „ t
’ *
FortSumtef captured..,*., .April ..April 13,1861
First bloodshed in tta, .April 14, 1801 18(>1
£attleof Big Bethel, Va..,« war.. .June 19, 10,
18(51
Battle of Bull Run, Va. .......July 31,1861
Bwt R^i A .....August 10, 18(51
a tafen........Nov, 7,18(51
Seizure of Mason and Slidell. ...Hoy. 8,18(51
Fort Henry taken.,,............Feb. «, is 13
Roanoke B&S^l^J^-'CiS' Island, N. C., taken....Feb. 8, i*P 18(52
Battle of Monitor ftud Merrimac.Mar. !(’, lso3
Albert Sidney Johnston killed . .April 0, 18t>2
} i: itlle of Shiloh..............April 10 eaptnrcil........,A|)nl7, (5 7, 1863 1803
Boanfort?Nf York town, Va.. C^uptm-eii..,",". taken..........May .April 25’ 1,180:3 Iwa
Norfolk, <Miss., Va., surrendered......May taken.......... May 80, 10,180:3 180:3
™* t!e ot Hoyon Pines, Va,..,. .May 31, 1803
Memphis, Seven Tenn., surrendered.. 2.7 .June 0, 18(13
Beattie days’battles.......Tune July R 1803
or Cedar Mountain.. ..August9, 1803
Second Battle of Bull Run...Aug, 39-30,1(8651
battle ot Richmonil, Ky.....August no, 180:3
Sot South Mountain,' 1803
Hariier’s Battle of Ferry surrendered.....Hep. 15,18013
Battle Antietam, Md........Hop. 17, 18013
of luka, Miss........... .Hep. lb, 180:3
^ °ot pZ-ryvillfty. !!! ls03
Rosecrans supersedes Buell..October 30, 1803
Battle of Fredricks-burg, Ya....l>ee. 18, 1803
First attack on Vicksburg. .. Dec. 39, 18(53
Battle of Murfreesboro.... ...Dee. 31, 1863
> •• ... Jan. 3, 1803
Emancipation Arkansas Port taken............Juu. Proclamation......Tan. 1, 1868 1803
Hooker succeeds Burnside......Jan. 20, 11, 1803
Fort Sumter bombarded... ...April 7, 1803
Grant before Vicksburg......May 1-17, 1803
Battle of Chancellorsville, Va. .May 3 3, 1803
W. “Stonewall” Virginia admitted Jackson shot........May Union. June 19, 3,1803 1863
to
Battle of Gettysburg, Pa......July 1-3, 1863
Vicksburg, Port Hudson Miss..surrendered.. surrendered.......July ..July 4, 1863
8, 1863
Draft riot in Now \ ork city. .July 13-10, 1803
Quantrell’s Mississippi river open in tofjulf... Kansas, .July 14, 1804
Fort Wagner, massacre H. O., taken......Hept. Aug. 31,18(53 7, 1803
Battle of Cumberland Gap,Tenn. ,Hept. 9, 1863
Battle of Chickamauga, Ga., Hept. 19-90,1803
Brig.-Gen. Batiloof Chattanooga.......Nov. Lytle killed.........Hept. 20, 18(53
Knoxville, Tenn., raised.Dec. 31-35, 1803
Hiege Buttle of Fla......February 4,1863
of Olustee, 30, 1801
Fort do Hussy captured......March 14, 1804
Fort Pillow, Tenn., captured.. April 13, 1804
Butler at Bermuda Hundred.... May 5, 1804
Battle of Wilderness, Va... .. May 5-0,1801
Gen Pickett killed..........
Battle Battle of Spottsylvania..... Resaca............ , May May 8H3 1804
of 14-15, 1864
Battle of Newmarket....... • • • May 15, 1804
Battle of Dallas............. M bifuntfs’
Battle of Cold Harbor....... 15-17,’ 18(54
Battle of Lost Mountain.... June 1804
Kearsarge of and Alabama........Tune 19, 1804
Battje Kenesaw MC ; ........June ijulV OT, 1804
Battles before Atlanta. .' 28^1804 f
'(•iiamiK'.-miurg; Petersburg, r-wmtrU u r im i n T J tn y' f w
Mine Farragut explosion, entered Mobile bay, Va., August July 30, 18(54 1861
Weldon Railroad seized.....August 18, 5, 1804
Battle Atlanta, of Winchester, Ga., taken..............Hep. Va........Sop. 19, 3, 1884 1804
Battle of Cedar Fisher’s Creek, Hill, Va......Oct. Va......Hep. 30, 1804
Battle of 19, 1864
Nevada admitted to the Union. .Oct. 31, 1804
Battle of Franklin, Tenn.......Nov. 39, 1804
Fort McAllister, Ga., taken.....Dec. 13, 1804
Battle of Nashville..........Dee. 15-10, 1804
Fort Fisher, N. C., taken........Ian. 15, 1805
Columbia, S. G\, taken..........Feb. 17, 1805
Charleston, S. C., taken........Feb. 18, DO5
Battles of Bentonville......March 15-18, 1805
Attack on FortHteedumn, Va., March25, 1805
Battle of Five Forks, Va........April 1, 1865
Petersburg Lee’s and Richmond... .April 3, 3, 1805
President army Lincoln surrendered.........April assassinated, April 14, 9, 1805 1805
Johnston’s army surrendered. .April 90, 1805
Jefferson Davis captured........May 10, 1805
Foreign Consols in New York,
There are at present in this city four
consulates, representing as many differ
ent governments. In some of these the
duties are very light and the fees small,
in which case the consuls are merchants,
allowed to trade on their own account
and receiving a sum about equivalent to
the amount of fees as a sort of honor
aiiiini,
Consuls of such nations as Great Brit
ain, Germany and France, which have
large shipping in this and other commercial in
tcrests and allowed country, are paid salaries
are not to trade on their own
account.
The ordinary duties of a consul relate
chiefly to commercial affairs, such us the
authentication of ships’papers, receiving
and certifying protests of masters of ves
eels and others with reference to losses
at citizens. sea or giving consular certificates to
It is also required of consuls that they
should attend to and provide for dis
aided seamen of the country to which
they belong and send them home at
public expense. take Besides this they are
expected to belonging charge of stranded ves
sels or property to their eoun
trymen in the absence of the master, or
other legal representative of (lie owner,
and also to take care of the property of
deceased citizens of the respective coun
tries .—New York Telegram.
Children's Knee I’ad.
a New York store advertises as tho
newest thing out its “patent children’s
knee pads.” The history of the pads is
interesting. A Northern New Hump
Bhiro woman, with boys who would go
through the knees of their knickerbocK
ers an( j stockings faster than she could
, nerK i them, in a moment of inspiration
fitted some soft leather smoothly over
t}ie j (ne ,. s 0 f two of her boys. A sum
lner visitor saw the scheme and adopted
it for hcr boyg) an( i B0 t i lf . pa ,i s went
out into the world, and now somebody
j iaH patented idea and the is New Hampshire
-woman’s making money out
of j t
Delmonico Debts.
The I. O. U.’s standing on Delmonieo’s
books are known to amount to $500,000.
It is a collection of years. The singular
feature is that the Delmonicos never re
sort to law suits to recover from the de
lmquents. It is their boasts that no
suits have ever been entered in their
name. Still another phenomenon is that
Charles Delmonico very frequently, if
not generally, neighbors, dines at the hostclries
of his or patronizes the chop
houses of Captain Reilly’s “Tenderloin”
jpreciuct .—New York Sim.
NO. 41.
IN THE SWING.
Here we go to the branches high!
Here we come to the grasses iow!
_
For the spiders and flowers and birds and
Love to swing when the breezes blow.
Swing, little bird, on the topmost bough;
Swing, little spider, with rop- so fine;
Swing, little flower, for the wind blows now;
But none of you have such’ a swing as mine
Boar little bird, come sit on my toes;
I’m just as careful as I can be;
And oh, 1 tell you, nobody knows '
What fun we’d have if you’d play with met
Coma and swing with me, birdie dear,
Bright little flower, come swing in my hair
Butynu, little spider, creepy and queer—
You’d better stay and swing over there.
The sweet, little bird, he sings and sings,
But he doesn’t even look in my face;
The bright little blossom swing and swings,
But still it swings in the self-same place.
Lot them stay where they like it best;
Let them do wliat they’d rather do;
My swing is nicer than all the rest,
But rnnybo it's rather small for two.
Here we go to the branches high!
Here wo come to the grasses low!
For the spiders and flowers and birds and I
Love to swing when the breezes blow.
Bwing, little bird, on the topmost bough;
Swing, little spider, with rope so fine;
Swing, little flow er, for the wind blows now;
But none of you have such a swing as mint*
—Eudora S. Bumstead, in St. Nicholas.
PITH AMI POINT.
A bad fit—Epileptic.
A bad spell of weather—Wether.
Down in the mouth—The tongue.
The book agent should wear a canvas
suit.
An old woman who paints—Age hold
ing up a flag of truce to time.
Kind lady: “How old are you,.,my
little fellow?” Youngster: “I ain’t old
at all, ma’am; I’m nearly new.”
The crank appears to be a person who
mows down the mental weeds iu a whim
sickle way. — 'Duluth Paraqrapher.
A Milwaukee Judge has decided that
a j leu j s no t a domestic animal, lie must
be trying t<> niake a K amc of her - —
Picayune.
jt seems to be settled that the Gov
eminent cannot hold the Mississippi
river, no matter how often it levies on
it.— Siftings.
An “anti-chap toilet cream” is ad
vortwed. it will fond never become chaps.-* rwoular.
ai'e too of tne
Detroit Free Press.
Ah, why did she make him leave her?
All, why so cruel, the fair?
When a boy he’d hail scarlet fever,
And it settled in bis hair.
— Judge.
The civilized world spent years in try
ing to break into China. Now it is
making strenous efforts to keep the
Chinese from breaking out .—Philiedels
phia Enquirer.
Hear tlio wailing of the ladies,
Hoe their faces worn anil thin,
And the cause of all their sorrow
Is—the bustle is called in!
—Siftings.
The peach crop is in a marketable con
dition. The fruit is largo and luscious,
but owing to frosls in March and dwarfish.— und April
the baskets are gnarled
Oinc.innat,i Commercial.
“How do you like your new place,
Bridget?” asked the servant Sure the girl’s
best beau. “Not at all. mis
tress wears such small shoos that I can't
get me feet into them .—New York
Journal.
Taking the temperature—She (at the
races)—“What’s the trouble on the
judges’ stand, George!” lie—“There
is some dispute over the last heat.”
She—“Aren’t their thermometers all
dike, George?”— Sifting <.
A sailor for sea,
Ami talk a spinster and soldier for tea, for fighting;
A lawyer for a
A baby for noise.
And a circus for Boys,
And a typewriter man to do autograph writ
ing. for chink,
A banker
leopard And for a printer and for ink, wafer for stick
A spots, a
A crack baseball dinger,
An opera singer,
A shotgun, a mule and a choir for kicking.
A Fearful Death.
A young Portuguese farmer named
Joseph Silva, while cutting hay in »
field near Centerville. Cal., says the San
Francisco Chronicle, encountered a large
rattlesnake, which he struck with his
scythe and stunned. Silva supposed
that he had killed the reptile and picked
it up by the tail to cut oil the rattles.
He used a knife that was somewhat dull,
ami, holding the snake almost at arm’s
leng-*i, ing hacked with at (lie cartilage connect
the rattles the tail several times
without severing it. To accomplish his
purpose more easily he the gripped the snake
by the body, and, as knife penetrated
at the last effort, the venomous creature
doubled and struck him on the little
flesh. linger, burying its fangs deep in and the
The hoy shook the snake off,
without an instant’s hesitation cut the
finger off at the middle joint, below the
place where the reptile’s teeth had
entered. Even then his nerve did not
desert him, and he made his way home
ward, a considerable distance. Here he
drank had his a bleeding large e,uantity bandaged. of whisky and
linger He
felt no ill-effects from the bite of the
snake, and on the following Wednesday
his. curiosity led him to search for the
piece of his finger which he had left in
the field beside the dead body of the
snake, which he killed after the amputa
tion. He found the finger black and
rotting with the poison it had absorbed,
and, without consideration of the con
sequences, handled it. By some means
the virulent poison came in contact with
his wound, und that night he died in
horrible agony, decomposition setting in
before the breath left his bodr.
