Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

Grass and Hoses. T looked where the roses were blowing*, They stood among grasses and reeds ; I said. “Where such beauties are growing, Why suffer these paltry weeds?” Weeping the poor things faltered, “We have neither beauty nor bloom; We are but grass in tbe roses’ garden— But our Master gives us this room. ‘•The slaves of a generous Master, Borne from a world above, We came to this place in His wisdom— We stay to this hour from Ilis love. “We have feed Ilis humblest creatures, We have served Him truly and long; He gave no grace to our features— We have neither color nor song— ‘•Yet lie who has made the roses Placed us on the self same sod; He knows our reason for being— We are grass in tlie garden of God.” —Rev. James Freeman Clarke. A CAPE HORN INCIDENT. On a December morning, in the year 1883, a mail steamer, homeward bound from a New Zealand port, was ap¬ proaching the meridian of the Horn, but on a parallel more southerly than it is now the custom of steamships to take in rounding that stormy, ice-girt, desolate and most inhospitable of all headlands. December in those distant regions is midsummer, and the weather of that morning was as fair and still a» a brcczeless April day in this country; but the swell of the vast track of ocean ran ceaselessly, reminiscent respira¬ tions of a gian'ess whose conflict with the heavens is eternal, and whose breaking-paip es arc very few and far between indeed. Over this long, dark blue, westerly swell the long inetal fabric went sweeping in long, floating, launching curtsies, whitening tbe water astern of her with a mile of milk-white wake. The frosty sun, whose beams in that sea have some¬ thing of the silvery brilliance of the electric light, flashed a score of con¬ stellations out of the gilt and glass and brass about the steamer’s bows and quarters and decks. A number of passengers were pacing the long hur- ricane platform. Far away on the starboard beam, poised, star-like, upon the keen blue rim of the ocean, was an iceberg—a dash of crystalline light against the airy sky that out there, low down, wore the delicate hue of the opal. Otherwise the ocean swept naked to its confines, a plain of rich, deep blue, with the heave of the swell shouldering the morning glory under the sun as it rati, and making that part of the deep magnif¬ icent with flowing light. The chief officer was on the bridge; the first breakfast-bell had rung, and the captain, smart as a naval officer, in buttons and lacc trimmings, quitted the chart-room and joined the mate to take a look around before going be¬ low. The skipper was a man of eagle sight, and instantly on directing his eyes over the ship’s bows he ex¬ claimed: “What is that black object yonder?” The chief mate peered, and the cap¬ tain leveled a telescope. i < A ship's boar,” said he, “and seem¬ ingly full of people.” The boat, when sighted, was some three or four miles distant, and the speed of the steamer was about thir¬ teen kuots. In a few minutes the alarm in the engine-room rang its re¬ verberatory warning, sending a little thrill of wonder throughout the ship, so rarely is that telegraph handled on the high seas. “1 count eight men, sir,” cried the chief mate, with a binocular glass at Ins eye. Again the engine-room alarm rang out; the pulsing that for days had been ceaselessly throbbing through the long fabric, languished, and in a few minutes, to another summons of the metal tongue below, ceased, and the great steamer floated along to her own impetus, slowly, and yet in re slowly, till the boat was within the toss of a biscuit off the bow, with the passen¬ gers crowding to the side to look, and sailors and waiters and steerage folk blackening the rail forward. The occupants of the boat consisted of eight wild, hairy, veritable scare¬ crows of men, dressed in divers fashions—Scotch caps, yellow sou'¬ wester*, sea-boots, toil-worn monkey- jackets. and the like. “Boat ahoy!” hailed the captain, as ehe slowly washed alongside. “What {6 wrong with you?” A fellow, standing up in the stern sheets, cried back. ‘•For God’s sake, sir, take us aboard! Our water’s almost given out, and there’s nothing left to eat.” “Look out for the end of a line,” bawled the captain. “Are you strong enough to get aboard without help’” “Ay, sir, we’ll manage it.” A rope was thrown, and one after another the fellows came swinging and scraping and scrambling up the clean side of the steamer. The passengers crowded round and gazed at them with curiosity and pity. Their sympathetic eyes seemed to find famine painfully expressed in the leathern countenances that stared back through mats of hair. “We must let your boat go,” said the captain. “Can't help it, sir, thankful enough to be here, I reckon,” answered the fellow who had called from the stern- sheets, and who acted as spokesman. “Anything belongingto you to come out after?” “Nothing. Let her go, sir. If sailors’ sea-blessings can freight a craft she ain’t going to float long,” The boat was sent adrift, the engine bell rang out, once more the great mail steamer was thrashing ever the long, tall heave of the Cape Horn swell. (* How came you into this mess?” inquired the captain. The man who had before spoken gave answer: “We’re all that’s left of the crew of the Boston bark “George Washing¬ ton.” She was a whaler, a hundred and forty days out. It were four days ago. I was the first to smell fire some while alter two o'clock in the middle watch.” “It wanted ten minutes to six bells,” exclaimed a man, and a general, em¬ phatic, hairy nod followed the inter¬ ruption. “I was the first to smell fire,” con¬ tinued the other, “call it what hour ye like. I gave the alarm, and all hands turned to with hoses and buckets. But there was a deal of oil in the hold, and the ship’s planks was thick with grease besides, and that gave us no chance. By ten o’clock in the morning the flames had bursted through and was shooting up mast-liigh, and then we calculated it was time to look to the boats.” The others stood listening with hard, stolid, leathery faces, generally gazing with steadfast eyes at the speaker, but sometimes glancing askance at the cap¬ tain and the crowd of others which stood round. “There was an ugly sea running,” the man went on, “and the wheel being desarted, the ship had fallen off and ran in the trough, and the lower¬ ing of the stern boats, whalemen though they was who had the handling of ’em, cost our company of twenty- eight souls the loss of all hands saving them as stand afore ye.” “A bad job! a measly, cruel, bad job!” here broke in a long-jawed man whose brow and eyes were almost con¬ cealed by a quantity of coarse red hair. “Well, us eight men got away in the boat,” proceeded the spokesman, “bringing aloug with us nothin’ but a small bag of bread and about six gal¬ lons of fresh water. We’re been a- washing about since Tuesday, and now, the Lord be praised, hero we be with a chance of getting something to eat, and what’s more pleasurable Still to our feelings, the opportunity of comfortably turning in.” A inurmer of pity rang among the passengers, several of whom were ladies, ami there was more than one somewhat loud whisper to the effect that the captaiu ought really to send the poor creatures forward at once to get some breakfast, instead of holding them, starving and dry with thirst, in talk. The eagle-eyed skipper, how¬ ever, asked several questions before dismissing them. “Since by their own confession the fire gave them plenty of time to escape from the bark, how was it they loft her so ill-provisioned as they repre¬ sented?” This was most satisfactorily account¬ ed for. Other inquiries of a like na¬ ture were responded to with alacrity and intelligence. Every sentence that one or an¬ other of them let fall was corrobor¬ ated by the rest. Their tale of suffer¬ ing, indeed, in the open boat was al¬ most harrowing; and the captain with the first note of sympathy that his voice had taken, ordered them to go forward, adding, that after a good hot meal had been served them they might turn in and sleep for the rest of the day wherever they could make a bed. At the breakfast in the saloon no¬ thing was talked about but the whaler that had been consumed by fire, the dreadful drowning of some two-thirds of her crew, and the miraculous de¬ liverance of the survivors from the in¬ expressible perils and horrors of an open boat in the solitude of the stormi¬ est part of the ocean the wide world over. A benevolent gentleman pro¬ posed a subscription. Before the lunch¬ eon-bell was rung a sum of th.rty pounds had been collected. The incident was a break in the monotony; aud when the eight men re-appeared on deck dur¬ ing the afternoon they were promptly approached by the passengers, who obliged them to recite again and yet again their melancholy story of mar- time disaster. On the morning of the third day, following the date of this rescue, a ship was sighted almost directly in a line with the vessel’s course. As she was neared she was seen to be rigged with stump, or Cape Horn top-gallant masts; she was also under very easy canvas which gave her a short-handed, look in that quiet sea. Great wooden davits overhung her sides, from which dangled a number of boats. She pre¬ sented a very grimy, worn aspect, and had manifestly kept tbe sea for some months. It was observed by the chief officer, standing on the bridge of the steamer, that the eight rescued men, who were looking at the sail ahead along with some of the crew and steerage passengers, exhibited several symptoms of uneasiness and even of agitation. Suddenly the stripes and stars, with the stars invert¬ ed, were run aloft to the peak-end—a signal of distress! The engines were “slowed,” and the steamer's head put so as to pass tlie vessel within easy hailing distance. A man aboard the bark stood in the mizzen rigging. “Steamer ahoy!” lie roared through his nose. “Hallo!” “I have lost a boat and eight of my men. Have you seen anything of her?” The captain, who had gained the bridge, lifted his hand. “Bark ahoy!” he cried; “what bark is that?” < 4 The ‘George Washington,’ whaler, of Boston, a liundred-and-eighty-four days out.” The captain of the steamer con¬ trolled a sour grin. ‘ llow came you to lose your boat and the men?” “They stole her one middle watch and sneaked away from the ship.” The captain of the steamer uttered a laugh. “We have your men safe here,” he shouted. “Glad to learn that you are not burnt down to the water's edge, and that the rest of your crew loak brisk considering that they are drowned men. Send a boat and you shall have your sailors.” Twenty minutes later the eight whalemen were being conveyed to their bark in one of their own boats, rncst of them grinning as they looked up at the line of heads which decorated the steam¬ er's sides; and, indeed, there was some excuse for the smiles, for among them they were carrying away the thirty pounds which had been sub¬ scribed for them. It would be inter¬ esting to knew what their skipper said when he learned that they had lost a fine boat for him; but ocean mail liners have to keep time, and the steamer could not wait to send a representative on board the whaler to report the many elegancies of sea-dialect which we may reasonably assume embellished her skipper’s rhetoric.—New York Independent. Greatest Fires in History. The two greatest tires in history are: The London fire of September 2-fi, 1666, in which eighty-nine churches, mauy public buildings, and 13,200 houses were burned; 400 streets laid waste, and 200,000 persons made homeless. The ruins covered 436 acres. The amount- of loss is not known. Second, the Chicago fire of 1871, in which 3.5 square miles were laid waste, 17,450 buildings burned, 200 persons killed, 98,500 persons made homeless, and about $200,000,- 000 of property destroyed.—[Chicago Herald. MEXICAN SOLDIERS. THEIR GREAT POWERS OF ENDURANCE ON THE 31 ARCH. Toiling Along the Hot Plateaus for Hour3 at a Stretch. In the Mexican service as in our own, the garrisons throughout the country are changed in due order from post to post, so that the soldier’s life is pretty evenly divided between the hard places and the easy ones. Even tho Lard places, however, in some respects are not so hard a9 those to which our own troops are accus¬ tomed; for Mexican garrisons are maintained not in desolate frontier forts, but for the most part in fairly good barracks in cities and towns. 'When Indian campaigning is in order, the field force is detached from the nearest available point; and when the campaign is ended, the troops come back to civilization again. On the other hand, the Mexican soldier is fed mainly upon beans and Indian-corn; bis bed in barracks usually is his al¬ lotted place on the floor, where he sleeps rolled up in his blanket; and on the march—since the army practically is destitute of a baggage train—he has to carry the whole of his kit in addi¬ tion to his arms. The lack of a baggage train is felt with especial severity when a regiment is transferred to a new post, for the soldier then has to choose between what few belongings he lias gathered about him, and carrying them with him on his own back. Fortunately for his comfort in this situation—his pay being small and his fondness for gambling large—be is not often heav¬ ily laden with personal property; but his lading of arms, accoutrements, and mess properties usually gives him about as much of a load as he can very well dispose of. Sometimes the regimental band plays “La Golondrina”—which is the near¬ est equivalent in Mexican popular music to “Home Sweet Home!”—as the men file out from their quarters, form in column, and set off to the new station to which they have been as¬ signed. But this touch of the musical proprieties is less often added than omitted. As a rule, the regiment just walks away, the men in tolerably good lorm while traversing the streets of the city which they are leaving; and then, being fairly out on the highway, going along with ragged files and pretty much as they please. Their service uniforms—an admirably sens¬ ible dress, consisting of blouse and trousers of brown linen, linen-covered caps, and sandals—are not especially soldier-like, according to our notions; but to this light rig they unquestion¬ ably owe in part their extraordinary capacity to withstand fatigue. Marching on the Mexican plateau is a severe strain upon both muscles and nerves. Unless some especial purpose is to be served, garrisons are shifted in the dry season, when the roads are ankle-deep with dust, and when the sun beats down, hot and strong, from a relentlessly clear sky, and casts upon everything a blinding glare. It is the way of roads in Mexico, especially in the Northern states, to seem intermin¬ able. One low ridge of rocky hills is ascended, and from its crest another like ridge is seen half a dozen miles away across an arid valley, over which the waves of heat shimmer and undu¬ late, and in which the only vegetation —if so cheerful a word maybe used to describe such brown and yellow bleak¬ ness—is thorny cactus, tufts of Span- ish-bavonet, and a few distorted and scraggly pita palms—a desolation so complete that it seems unnatural and unreal. All day long, saving only the hot halt at noon, the march continues through this utter dreariness, op¬ pressed by the blighting sunlight, the head of tlie column (where the officer in command rides in plucky erectness) raising a cloud of dust that grows thicker ana heavier with each succes¬ sive tile, until the rear-guard literally is lost in its dark density. The smaller streams and many of the larger ones are dried up, and a draught of fresh water by-the-way is a joy impossible; the water in the canteens grows hot in the fiery rays of the sun, and never anywhere is there so much as a hand’s- breadth of shade. Aud yet such is the power of endurance that these wiry Mexican soldiers possess, the men rarelv become exhausted by tho Way and at night, when a halt is made some little town, or at some liacieu where water can be obtained, an. when the cold delicious wind down refreshingly from the hiils, the; are as lively, and go at their rations 0 j frijoles and tortillas with as much zn as though their eight or ten hours 0 j toiling through heat and dust had bed no more than a paseo—an agreeab]] ttroll. It should be, and doubtless is, J cause for thankfulness throughout buildiJ tbj Mexican army that with the of the new railroads, by which all tiJ J important cities in tho republic, cepting Oaxaca, Durango, and tU forts on the west coast, have been cod nected, the arduous marching hereto! fore attendant upon garrison transfej in great part has been done away witj The increased military strength of til federal government that has com with this change is obvious. LarJ bodies of troops can now expeditioj be moved J nearly all important points ly and without waste of strength J the way.—[Harper’s Weekly. Massacre of Chinese in Formosa. I The last mail from China news of tbe massacre of a Chinese troops in Southern by the aborigines now in revolt The natives, or savages as they called, aided, it is said, by a of half castes, planned an Butting on their sandals reversed, made a number of tracks with a particular spot. were then dispatched to tin Chinese post with news of an and an appeal for assistance. T troops went out, the eers, it is said, being tlie rear. Pretended sufferers by raid appeared from time to time. reaching the tracks the soldiers lowed them up and fell into when all but a very few were Out of 200 which left the pod ten escaped. A is reported that, the first time in the history of mosa, all the aboriginal tribes banded together and act on an ized system. Thus tbe eighteen tribes of in tbe South, numbering about warriors, were concerned in this bush. Shortly after the disaster Chinese issued proclamations offerii 810 reward for the return of each the guns lost on the occasion, arnlsa scquently the Chinese general bod negotiations, in which he was greafl hampered by the bad faith shown fl many previous occasions to the n tives. At last, and with many pi cautions on tlie part of the latter, meeting was arranged,and a peace w I patched up for the time by means large presents and larger promises fold tlie chiefs. The past is to be ten, and the savages are to live Chid j terms of friendship with their neighbors. From subsequent infj t| niation, however, it appears that disturbances in the south of the islaj have broken out with move violea than before. Japanese Etiquette. A writer on the New York who attended a “blow out” of the anese club there, afterward about it, said: “I was the diflerence in etiquette Japan and the Occident. were a hundred or more present, rooms were deserted, Every talked in whispers to every one The refreshments were served by ' va ers who were silence embodied, every Oriental who did anything. anything or heard anything ex pi? 9 his pleasure by bowing from once three times, until the American was weary with the excessive cotii' :e They even go so far that when a son reading a newspaper turns it to make a noise, he makes a bow apology to all within earshot, and who hear the sound or see the in return, as if to say: “Do u0 ‘ tion it.” Irrigation in Utah. The great Bear River Caual inl !< for the construction of which $2>*® 000 has been provided, is expected be one of the most extensive irrig^t* works in this country, It will gate 200,000 acres in Salt Lake ^ *1 and 6,000,000 on Bear River. i» c H ing the value of lhe land to acre. Bear River is in eastern Id 3 ] The reservoir for the canal covers square miles. —(Boston Journal