Newspaper Page Text
NINE SCORE YEARS OI,I>.
An Aulnumlinu Story Tlmt l/cailn On« to
Think A<l»m Anil Ktc May H« Allfo
Mill.
I>r. I/ovi K. fieorgo was interviewed
the other day concerning the Moqui
Indians of Arizona, whom li<> recently
risited. Said he: "I will describe the
particular tribe of the Moquis in which
I discovered the most remarkable eases
of long life. They arc called the
Wakoyas and comprise about l.Vt peo
ple males and females. <>f these there
are only about 70 children) about <SO
middle-aped persons, and the rest in
clude at least 1.0 centenarians. 'They
do not intermingle with the roving
bands of savages, preferring :i fixed
habitation in their little villape in tlk;
valley of the Chausaka river, one of the
hundreds of small streams tributary to
the Colorado. They dwell in stone
houses or huts, enpapo in aprieiiltural
pursuits to a limited extent and enjoy
many of the arts of civilization. 1 hey
arc, neverthcle s, very secluded in their
little punch-bowl of a valley.
“f)ur visit to the place was made
about six weeks apo. The chief prove 1
to he of an oldipirip disposition am.
showed us all about the villape. Wo
were followed by a crowd of young
Wakoyas, and were preceded by the
chief, while around us barked and
howled a number of dogs, with which
the villape abounded. After nrocced
inp a short distance we paused before
the door of a low stone hut, covered
with a skin roof, the cracks in the wall
beinp filled with brown adobe. Our
leader entered without poiup through
the ceremony of knocking. ‘Muskeo!
Muskeo!’ we heard him shout repeated
ly from within. Hut Muskeo was evi
dently not at home, and the chief came
back with a disappointed look on his
dark face. Wo met the object of our
search about twenty yards from his
door and were presented to him in In
dian fashion, lie appeared to marvel
at our unexpected appearance, but his
astonishment was nothing compared to
ours as we gazed at his strange and
unnatural form. His shoulders and
limbs were clothed with deerskin
robes, and his face, which seemed to
be barren of flesh, was covered with
dry, wrinkled skin; his lingers were ex
tremely long and his palms and wrist
were withered and shrunken, while his
whole body, which was much attenu
ated, was bent over until his back as
sumed thoshanoof a half-circle. I had
never seen such a specimen of aged hu
inanity before.”
*‘l)id you discover his age?” inquired
the interviewer.
•‘Our Moqui guide, who spoke Kn
glish almost perfectly and whose verac
ity we had tested on previous occasions,
told ns, after making the necessary in
quiry, that the man win 17f> years oh.,
and 1 have not the slightest doubt, nor
would anyone have after seeing I lie an
ciont Wakey a, that such was iud<«.
his age. After looking at us for some
few moments, during which ho rested
his chin heavily upon the long stall
which he clutched with one of his dried
up hands, he mumbled a few words m
answer to questions put by the chief
and our interpreter, and then, raisin;;
his head and stretching out his limbs.lie
shambled oil toward his lint at a toler
ably smart pace for a man t <.• M ars
old.
•‘Hut the greatest surprise was yet to
come. We were ushered into a rudely
constructed stone building of great, >•
dimensions than those lieloru \isitcd in
the village. It was almost dark inside,
and tlk' room was ill-smelling and
close. W hen our eyes became accus
tomed to the dim light we saw a skin
dad figure kneeling in one corner of
the room and engaged in breaking light
sticks of wood into small faggots. \\ <•
were told that it was a woman theehie)
had brought us to see, and that she had
not noticed our approach, being blunt
and deaf. The chief placed his hand
on her shoulder, and she slowly turned
around. 1 could not see quite plainly,
and was at once struck with a feeling
of repulsivoncss almost akin to the lior
ror one fools toward visions seen in a
nightmare when her hideous face and
blank, sunken eyes met ray gaze. Her
face was id a greenish yellow color, and
what little there xvas left of flesh or
skin dung to her bones as if stuck there
by some adhesive compound. It bore
n parched, desiccated appearance, like
the outer flesh of a mummy. The low
er jaw. w hich was dexoid of tooth, ob
truded considerably beyond tile angle
of her sharp, hooked nose. Her arms
appeared to ho almost hare of any fleshy 1
tissue, and the skin covering them was
dry and hard. She is tsi years old.
This places her beyond the reputed age
of the patriarch Isaac at the time of his
death, and she must have first seen the
light in 170‘2, or seventy-four years be
fore I’ e signing of tho Declaration of
Independence.
“Did you learn her name?”
“The people of the village call her
Watsuma She has only one living
relative, a great-grandson, who is St*
years of age.”
“How ha< the record of her years
iicen kept ?”
"In the immemorial fashion of this
tribe by punching small holes in a
piece of smoothly-polished lyorn at the
end of each twelve month I express
ed a desire to see the record of Watsu
uia's age. At first 'ln' was very back
ward at*out producing it. hut finally
directed her young attendant in a slow,
hoarse speech to go and bring it to her,
which was done, and then, w ithout al
lowing us to take it from her bony hu
ger:.. she held u up for inspeeticn. The
182 holes were counted l*y our wonder
ing party, and the ancient relic was
replaced in its position in an inner re- ,
cess in the wall of the hovel.”*—£<m
Francisco Ckronirir.
The Queen's private secretary is
called upon by Life tor an explanation
of the’statement that the Queen gave
twenty-five dollars to Chief Superin
tendent Haves, of tin Windsor }M*lice,
for his services when Maclean shot at
her, “There must be something unex
plained about the donation.” says Lite;
“the sum is quite disproportionate to
the position and pay of the officer, and
lamentably disproportionate to Her
Maj iesty's dignity." The Superintendent
evidently had no desire to keep the
money, for he promptly gave it to the •
Wesleyan Chapel at Windsor, tc pay
for a tablet recording the Queen's ei*
Bicb Actor*.
Ootilp About the Farorltei of th« Slag#.
There are very few rich doctors, say a
a Now York letter, and fewer rich ac
tors. John Oyvens was rich. He made
his money by say ing, and lost it in
speculation. Joe Jefferson made a for
tune by saving. He rarely spends any
thing; yet moro rarely gives. Edwin
Booth is coining money. He had much
at one time, sank it v<ith more belong
ing to his friends, went into bankrupt
cy, to the grief of his creditors, re-be
gan to work and save, and is now hold
ing on to every dollar with the grip of
avarice. Charles K. Thorne, through
the death of his wife';; father, will enjoy
the income of a handsome (-stale, about
SIOO,OOO, I hear. Hobson, having found
a Ma yotte in the person of William H.
Crane, has made and kept a small for
tune. McKee Rankin ano his wife have
a solid foundation. Maggie Mitchell
and Lott a Crabtree are well o(T. The
reports of Mary Anderson's money are
exaggerated. She will have a forttino
in time if sho saves her cash, hut shn
hasn't it yet. Lester Wallaek would
not cut up very fat. Now, what others
are there with money? You can't tell
them. I certainly can not. The im
pecuniosity of literary men is well
known, and an editor with a dozen new
shirts would he a treat for sore eves.
Actors spend their money freely nnd ac
cept the stern behests of poverty cheer
fully. It is absurdly claimed that they
are overpaid. That’s nonsense. In the
first place actors don't average $. r »0 a
week, and in the next place they get
that only in the season, which averages
thirty-eight weeks out of the fifty-two.
They really don't get more than or
$-10 on an average the best of’em. I
think they are underpaid. But if they
are overpaid, how is it with the women?
They get le-.s salary and have larger
outgoes. llow so? Why, if an actor
has a die -suit and three or four ordi
nary costumes he’s well equipped for a
season, hut the women have to dress
•nch now part. A dress-coat is a dress
coat in one play as well as another, but
and adncan't wear a ball dress, or
any other in fact, in two plays. Then,
too, men’s attire costs less. Women
must dress a la mode, and, as a rule,
have a different costume in each act.
The average actor is a hog.
The average actress is a mule.
How so?
The average actor looks out for him
self and cares for no one else.
The averago actress supports from
one to live people.
Little a> I know, I could tell you
stories of the rudeness, incivility, nnd
thoughtless selfishness of actors that
Would make you gape with amazement,
and 1 could tell you tales of tho heroic
devotion of the women of the stage that
would make you silent in sympathy and
uproarious in admiration. 1 chanced
to meet two well-known ladies of tho
stage la t week. < >ne has long been re
cognized a- a bright and beautiful orna
ment of profession and has held a lead
ing position for at least eight or ten
years. Tho other is younger, hut equal
ly well Known, bright, elmrmilig, and
full of chic! The latter 1 had heard xvas
the sole support of quite an extensive
set, hut tin- other I Imd thought perfect
ly independent, and well off. Chance
directed the conversation to Booth’s
stieeein London and the expression
of a wish on the part of both ladies that
they had been able to spend the sum
mer on the other side, “Surely,” said
1 to tho elder, “there is no reason xvhy
you should not have gone. You had a
lino position and a nig salary all last
season. If you had cared to save any
thing you could have done so.” With
out answering me directly she turned to
her companion and situpiy said: “How
little ho knows the truth.” I subse
quently ascertained that for ten years
she had supported four adults, has
educated and clothed two growing girls,
and to-day hasn’t a dollar boyotul tho
necessities of her enforced idleness uutil
tho season opens.
Tint War Effect in England.
By the uncertainty which envelop*
political event--in Lnrope on account
of the Egyptian complications, and by
the contingency which presents itself
that England may have to stand alone
in her attempt to untangle tho intrica
cies of the war problem, the English
markets have been plunged into a state
of great anxiety and solicitude. For
the moment all enterprise has been ta
ken out of business by the risks and
doubts created through the tendency of
foreign questions to till the future with
dangerous contingencies for trade. The
likelihood is that tin* Suez Canal will
remain closed to traffic for an indefinite
period, disorganizing the ordinary
course of commerce between India, Chi
na and Japan and the British islands.
Commercial intercourse with Egypt is
already almost at an etui. Tho loss of
the usual cotton crop from that quarter
is expected to exert a profoundly dis
turbing influence upon the English cot
ton industry, and the absence of the
wheat supplies commonly relied upon
from the same source will have some
efleet upon the prices of grain. There
is also a looking for a decline itt tho
trade with Turkey. Meanwhile the lo
cal corn crop threatens to be less than
an average, and. as is conceded, cannot
exceed an average under the most fa
vorable circumstances for the remain
der of tin- season until harvest. Money
is abnormally cheap in London in eon
oqueneeof the temporary disinclination
of capitalists to venture upon invest
ment- in either industrial or specula
tive linden-king-. Although the Bank
of England rate is ;> per cent, the rate
on tin- stive; may In* called 2 per cent
for three months' be-t bills, with short
tills of the same class fractionally low
r. and to-day money can hardly be lent
at 1 percent. This hesitation in business
is eu ha need by the [sluggishness which
ordinarily prevails in the first month or
two after the half year. Affairs an* not
expected to settle down into anything
like a routine course until the war cloud
in the East l*ecoine- distinctly defined
nnd the complications of the future* can
be forecast with some degree of strong
probability . At least a fractional ri-e
tu the discount rat, of the Bank of Eng
land is beginning to be anticipated, be
cause the reserve of that institution is
still unduly small, the aggregate of coin
and bullion >o its vaults i- slowly de
creasing, and the pro-poet of an excess
export of specie i- sufficiently indicated
to amount to the significance of a warn
ing index finger.— t,- icago JuraUi.
I THE LICK OBSERVATORY.
Itu Sit#* a Favored Spot -Suitable Atmoi*
|>h«*rio Condition*.
Before Mr. Lick changed his board
of trustees he grew distrustful of the
! site which had been selected on the
; borders of Lake Tahoe, ami chose an
other on what is now known as Mount
Hamilton. The latter is a prominence
, in the Coast Range of California, forty
four hundred feet above tho level of
| the sea, and some fourteen miles in a
straight line east of fsan Jose.
The view from the summit is one of
the most commanding in tho United
States. Through a ravine towards the
west tho spectator sees the city of San
Jose, its buildings dotting with white
the beautiful plain in which it is situ
ated. The view of the Pacific Ocean
beyond is cut off by a range of moun
tains., Toward the north the eye take
in a vast region, covered with innumer
able hills, half mountain and half field.
In very clear weather the peak of
Mount Shasta may he seen at a dis
tance of more than two hundred and
fifty miles. On the east, above the
neighboring bills, a line view of the
outlines of the Sierra Nevada range,
one hundred and thirty miles distant,
may bo obtained at sunrise. On the
south tho view is bounded by another
peak about the same height as Mount
Hamilton. Between the two moun
tains lies a ravine moro than a thous
and feet deep. Snow and glaciers are
wanting, so that the views do not com
pare in magnificence with those ob
tained in the Alps, but the clearness of
the atmosphere partly compensates for
this by the extent and variety of the
field which the eye takes in.
The astronomer is not concerned
with the earth, but with the heavens;
and an elevated station is of no use to
him unless it brings some advantage
in looking upward. Other circum
stances come into play to such an ex
tent that tho mere gain of going above
a mile of the atmosphere is compara
tively slight, and, as a matter of fact,
many of tho lincst observations have
been made at sea-level. Notwith
standing tho clearness of the air, doubt
was thrown upon the suitability of the
sight for astronomical observations.
Observers had reported a current of
warm air rising up the side of the
mountain at night sufficiently stroug
to carry a sheet of tissue paper out of
sight. Such a current would be fatal
to astronomical observat ions, and it be
came important, before commencing
tho building, to have a thorough trial
of tho atmospheric conditions made by
a competent observer.
The astronomers who were consulted
united in Recommending S. \V. Burn
ham, of Chicago, as the best available
judge in the case. This gentleman, al
though an amateur in the seiouce, has
gained a world-wide reputation by the
discovery, witli an eight-inch tele
scope, of a great number of double
stars which had escaped the scrutiny of
the Herschcls and the Struves. Long
practice at Chicago in all sorts of at
mospheric conditions fitted him to rec
ognize good conditions more quickly
and certainly than one who had devot
ed himself to more widely extended
branches of the science.
In tho summer of 1871) Mr. Burn
ham accepted a proposal to proceed to
California with his telescope, and spend
several weeks in surveying the heav
ens from the top of Mount Hamilton.
Tho month of August found him in
stalled in a little observatory which
had been designed and erected by Cap
tain Floyd. ')he results of his exam
ination exceeded all expectations, and
an astronomer has seldom had occasion
to make so enthusiastic a report as that
of Mr. Burnham. Not only were the
atmospheric conditions of the finest
kind, but night after night the astron
omer enjoyed such views of the heav
enly bodies as Chicago offered him
only a few nights in tho year. 'The
general experience of observers is that
the very finest nights for seeing are
few in number; the man who can se
cure a dozen a year would be consider
ed extremely fortunate. Even one of
these favorable nights might not re
main so for an hour. But at Mount
Hamilton that steadiness of view which
is so rarely to be found at less favored
spots generally continued through tho
whole night. Whether tho future as
tronomer who shall scan the heavens
from this unsurpassed spot with au un
rivalled telescope will enjoy during the
whole year such weather as occurs dur
ing summer atul autumn can not be
foreseen; but even if he does not, ho
will be more than satisfied with tho
year’s work which he can perform dur
ing the favorable season.
As bearing on this subject wo may
cite the observations and photographs
of tin* transit of Venus taken at tho
Lick Observatory in 188:2 by Professor
I>. I’. l'odd. These proved to be tho
finest photographs of the transit ever
taken. Tho skill of the astronomer
was indeed very requisite to the
work; but this would have availed
nothing had tho condition of the at
mosphere been unfavorable. Alto
gether. we may assume that, so far as
mere looking is concerned, no existing
observatory i> so favorably situated as
that now being erected by the Lick
trustee-. Hinton .Wiccomb, in Harper's
Maya line for February.
Professor ami Inventor.
The following i- a good story about a
well-know professor, which may go to
prove that even great physicists are
liable to error:
The Professor was showing a party of
ladies and gentlemen over some large
works at Birmingham, chiefly engaged
in the manufacture of complicated op
tical instruments. The party came
across a very ingenious instrument, the
working of which the Professor pro
ceeded to explain. In the midst of his
explanation, a roughly dressed young
man. standing near, struck in. and civ
illy pointed out that the man of science
was quite mistaken in his notions as to
the instrument in point.
The Professor, w hose weak point is
not an excess „f humility, angrily main
tained his own view, but did not suc
ceed in convincing his opponent, who
finally shrugged his .-Moulders and
w alked oft".
“Who is that—that person?” asked
th< Professor, indignantly, of a work
man standing by.
“O. that is Dr. ,” was the reply.
“He invented that instrument you have
been looking at." [Tableau.]’
BECKY HAPPY IN JAIL.
She Han Hern There a Long Time, and Ifaa
No Trouble* Except Aid. Farley.
Miss Becky Jones, the obstinate
housekeeper of the late Mr. Hamers
ley. having been adjudged guilty of
contempt of court for refusing to tell
all she knew about her late employer,
was sent to Ludlow street jail. She
was put in a room about twelve feet
square, on the first floor, just off the
dining-room. The single, iron-barred
window faces on Essex market place,
which is kept alive by the soul-stirring
imprecations of butchers, the screaming
erics of children, and the occasional
howling of half-starved dogs and cats.
Miss Jones hung a neat white curtain
over the window and then examined
the bed. Wiorrificd her, and she made
life entertaining for Warden Phil Ki r
nan until she got things fixed. He mov
ed in a marble-top bureau adorned
with a mirror, and gave her a largo
piece of carpet and two chairs.
The first week Becky kept closely to
her room and was seen only at meal
times. She said she was ill and tho
warden never passed a drug store for a
few days without buying a bottle of
patent medicine fog, her. Becky got
well, and the warden claimed the cred
it of it.
Finally Becky settled down into a
humdrum method of passing the days,
and seldom varies from it. She locks
her door about 10 o’clock at night. If
she is not very sleepy she draws her
bedstead under the gaslight, and lies in
bed reading a novel or a tract, if she
happens to have one that draws a hap
py parallel between a really good, and
a very bad boy. She never forgets to
turn off'the gas before dropping into
sleep.
She is up about daylight, and tramps
steadily about the circular yard in the
center of the jail forhalf an hour. Then
she uses up considerable worsted in
making tidies until breakfast is ready.
Breakfast is passed in kindly conveise
witli tier other unfortunates, who vio
with eaeli other in helping Becky to
bread. As soon as the meal is over
Becky returns to her room and writes
several pages of iier book, which will
tell the world about her troubles. Then
she reads a little, uses up a little more
worsted, and receives as many of her
friends as call upon her. She has be
come attached to her homo now; tho
only thing she dislikes about it is
the name it bears.
Warden Kiernan met a reporter at the
door of the jail on Sunday and told him
that Becky had issued orders a short
time previously to have the first report
er that came along sent to her. Becky
sat near the window in a black alpaca
dress. A little wooden trunk stood near
the bureau. The top of the bureau was
neatly covered with white tidies, on
which rested a stubby black jug with
flat sides and a small neck. The jug
was painted black, and was stuck all
over with little cupids with green and
gold, and these letters “Been.”
“They stand for Becca,” said Becky,
as she shook the reporter’s hand. I
was going to make it Rebecca, which is
my name, but 1 couldn't find anything
to cut the It and e out of. Sit down
over there while 1 tell you what 1 want
ed to see you for.
“It’s about Aid. Parley,” she said.
He has been tlirting with me in aw-ful.
1 told him if lie did not stop coming in
here. I’d tell the reporters about him
and now I’m going to do it. lie conics
around and sits where you are sitting
now, and goes on hor-rid. lie brought
liis picture around here and gave it to
me. Hero it is.”
Becky showed tlie reporter a photo
graph of the alderman with his smile
and watch chain ail complete. It was
hanging in t lie dark part of the room.
Beckv pointed to a row of blue labels
which were pasted on one side of the
window casing.
“I paste one of these up there every
week,” slie said. I have thirty-three
there now, but tho thirty-third week
will not end until next Monday night
lam willing to end my life here, and
if the price of my release is to tell a i
1 know about poor, dear Mr. Hamers-
Icy, 1 shall certainly die here. They say
lam obstinate. If lam I suppose it is
because l was born so near the fourth
of July.”
“Have you any hope of release?”
“William H. Shepherd is my lawyer,
and 1 believe lie is doing something for
me. lam contented here, and don't
much care. Everybody is kind to me.
The Rev. Mr. Morgan, who preaches
hero on Sundays, sent me a Christmas
card, and so did his mother. Somebody
else sent me a book full of prayers and
a card full of verses. I've an awful lot
of novels sent me. too, and such an aw
ful lot of letters. You'd be surprised
if I showed you some of them, but I
won’t though.”
“1 should think youhLget a cat or
dog. Miss Jones, for company?”
“Pooh! 1 hate them.” —Xao York
sun.
The Kuiure Novel.
Now that Mr. Howells has made an
achronism popular, the country may
look for an improvement in literature.
The following is a selection from a fu
ture novel. “When Gregory arose,
the sun was brightly shining. The
cold wind, and tho drifting snow chill
ed him, and taking off his coat to en
joy the fresh air, he blew his frozen
nose and raked the perspiration from
his reeking brow. There was no time
to be lost, and Gregory hurried on
ward. When he reached tho rivtv, he
was puzzled. There was no boat in
sight, and lie knew not how to cross.
The August sun beat fiercely down,
and standing on the burning sands,
Gregory failed to enjoy himself. After
a while a bright idea struck him. He
would cross tho ice. He heaved a
sigh of relief when he reached tho op
posite shore. The country was beauti
ful. As far as the eye could reach,
there waved the rich grass ot the
prairie. Stopping under a large oak
tree whose leaves waved an invitation,
Gregory took an ax from his pocket
and began to chop wood. The coating
of sleet flew at every stroke. When
he had kindled a tire and broiled an
ovster which he had killed with a stick,
he lay down in the cool shade and
sank to sleep. How long he slept he
knew not. He was awakened by a
rainstorm. Risir -. he continued his
course over the parched desert.”—-ir
kansato Traveler.
Fashionable Grief.
The Mourning Widow’s Second Tear.
Dressed in thedeepest and blackest of
crape, in the richest of silks and the
most coquettish of widows’ caps, says
the London Journal, the bereaved one
finds that her lost husband has mado
but little difference in the routine of her
daily life. Probably the principal change
she feels from his loss is one in her in.
come, and men have ere now been
known designedly to curtail the finances
in such instances in orderto ensure that
the} - should at least be missed in some
degree.
But if the fashionable widow is easy
in purse, she is rarely sad at heart. She
knows that she is, for the time, at least,
a prominent point and an object of at
tention in her own circle. She is aware
that her cap becomes her, and that sho
looks younger in her weeds than she
had looked for several years before. —
She is not long before she looks round
her for some diversion from the strict
retirement that her world is supposed
to enforce upon widows. It is, in real
ity, far from strict. She can go abroad
with a few chosen spirits, and who ttiat
sees her laugh and chatter, flirt and
amuse herself, as she does, could im
agine that she is a widow of but a few
weeks’ standing?
Even if she remain in England, she is
at no loss to find ways and means of
entertainment. Her cavalieri serventi
have by no means all disappeared,
though some few have taken fright,
who were very nervous as to matrimony.
They are afraid she might marry them.
Her suite is thus reduced, but those left
are all the choicer spirits, and there is
invariably a friend who, being married,
has her own set of admirers, and be
tween them the two ladies can usually
muster a very pleasant party. There
are visits to the play, paid incog., the
incognito in this instance consisting of
leaving the widow’s cap and heavy
crape at home. There is a music hall
or two much frequented in a quiet way
by fashionable London ladies. Our.
widow makes her party, and goes to
these, accompanied by her frisky friend.
“Poor Harry would never hear of my
going.” she says, “anil this will bo an
excellent opportunity.”
There are trips to Brighton, and pleas
ant little evenings there, unsuspected
by the world. Places further afield than
Brighton are visited, and a little quiet
gambling helps to make the months lly
around. The year of deepest weeds
and strict seclusion is soon over, and
few who have seen the quiet face in
public, under that most proper if most
coquettish of caps, could have guessed
how merrily, for the most part, the days
have gone.
The second year is that in which the
widow is really happy. The sombre
depths of her mourning cast aside, she
enters the world again and reopens her
jewel-case. Even with a very becoming
widow’s cap on, life is more or less a
blank to a woman if she cannot wear
her jewels. Now, however, the dia
monds, pearls, and opals may reappear,
and with what renewed delight are they
not worn? Visions of dressesin delicate
half tints, pearl-grays, soft lavenders,
mixtures of white and gray, or black
and white, float before her mind, soon
to be realized.
Her year’s absence from balls and
parties and crowded rooms lias renewed
her beauty, and the same retirement
has brightened her eyes and tinged her
cheeks with the freshness of enjoyment
with which she prepares to reenter the
world. Now indeed is the fashionable
widow a dangerous and seductive crea
ture. She knows that she is prettier'
than ever, and the consciousness, mak
ing her more certain of coming victo
ries, gives a gentle softness to her mau
ner. Beware of widows in the second
year! Always dangerous, they are then
more so than ever.
There are, of course, widows indeed,
whose grief does not wholly consist in
yards of crape, jet jewelry, and a white
crimped cap. These are apart from
those of whom I have been writing, and
with them the fashionable widow has
nothing to do. While they brood over
their loneliness, she revels in her free
dom. They look. on into the coming
years with a blank sense of dreary loss,
while sho looks forward to the future
with as much happy anticipation as
she ever could have done to her mar
riage.
Light-hearted as a girl, she feels
younger every day, and from her own
point of view there is no more enviable
being to be found in this world than a
young, handsome, rich, and lively wid
ow, whose heart is not inconveniently
soft, nor her feelings too acute to pre
vent her going through life “well pleas
ed and careless,” and extracting from
it as much of the pleasure and as little
of the pain as may fall to the share of
any mortal creature.
In Melville’s account of tho search
for the Grcely party, he gives his own
plan for reaching the North Pole, and
getting back without loss of life or
property. Franz Josef Land has been
explored to latitude 80, and is known
to stretch northward at least 1 degreo
farther; and it may be much farther
still. By this land route Mr Mclvillo
believes the Pole can be reached, and
he proposes to get there himself, and
find out about the flattening of the
earth and all the other scientific secrets
that -e supposed to cluster round that
mysterious point. As Siqurd broke
through the circle of lire and won
Brynhild, not for himself, but for an
other, so >Tr. Melville is determined to
force the defenses of ice that guard tho
alluring mystery of the highest north,
and touring back the results of his
conquest for the good of the wondering
world.
For Handsomest! Cheapest! Best
IKON ROOFING.
SIDING, CEILING,
6en t for rhnOrattrt I'atalosue and Price* of
CINCINNATI (O) CORRUGATING COw
»Mn - ■ -1 - , M , ,| |MM
▼ i»iting c*rdi with you
P $ a Mcie neat v nriated lOc iu*.
u Br St **' q l Lhrooxo with rzamt
m 25 c*nts.
_ 9 E ezant tin? cards, gilt or fancy
m B 3 ge, with cam*, 60 cents.
/yj Orand Hidden Name cards, with
name, 63 cents.
ad7 of tb* above jpnt st-paid on receipt of
pr oa. The Tlowbor Co~ EMt Paiot. Gflb
A QUESTION ABOUT
Browns Iron
Bitters
ANSWERED.
The question has probably been naked thousand*
of timee, “How can Brown's Iron Bitters core every
thing” Well, it doesn't. But it doea cure any disease
for which a reputable physician would prescribe I*o E
Physicians recognize Iron as the beet restorative
agent known to the profession, and inuuiry of any
leading chemical firm will substantiate the assertion
that there are more preparations of iron than of any
other substance used in medicine. This shows con
clusively that iron is acknowledged to be the most
important factor in successful medical practice. It is,
however, a remarkable fact, that prior to the discov
ery of BROWN’S IKON BITTERS bo perfect
ly satisfactory iron combination had ever been found.
BROWN’S IRON BITTERS&&, f £S£
headache, or produce comtipstion—all other iron
medicine., do. BROWN’S IRON BITTERS
caret* Indigestion, Biliousness, Weakness,
Dyspepsia, Malaria, Chill* and Fevers,
Tired Feellnir.General Debility,Pain in the
Side, Rack orLimbsyllFadarhf and Neural
gia—for all these ailments Iron is prescribed daily.
BROWN’S IRON BITTERS,
minute. Like all other thoronjrh medicines, it acts
slowly. When taken by m*n the first symptom ot
benefit is renewed energy. The muscles then become
firmer, the digestion improves, the bowels are active.
In women the effect is usually more rapid and marked.
The eyes begin at once to brighten; the skin clears
up; healthy color comes to the cheeks; nervousness
disappears; functional derangements become regu
lar. and if a nursing mother, abundant sustenance
is supplied for the child. Remember Brown's Iron
Bitters is the ONLY iron medicine that is not in
jurious. Fht/ticiana and Druggists recomnund it.
The Genuine has Trade Mark and crossed red lines
on wrapper. TAKE NO OTHER-
Tto Globe Ciitoi aiS Corn Planter
AND
Fertilizer Distributor.
Highest award at International Cotton Exht
hilon, Atlanta, Ga., tba Arkansas State F air th,
Ntlonal Cotton Planters’ Aasoctation, the Great
Beuthern Emoaition, LouiiTitle, Ky., and the
World’s Exposition, New Orleans, La., and which
has NEVER failed in any contest, has been atili
further Improved, and la now fully adapted to any
character of toil and the moat unskilled labor, twa
atyles and siaea being now made.
It la the moat durable Planter made, and will
Save its Cost Three Times Over
IN A
SINGLE SEASON.
As it plants from eight to ten acre* per day.
with less than one and one-half bushel* of
•eed per acre, and opens, drops, distribute* fer
tiliaers and cover* at one operation, saving
TWO HANDS AND ONE TEAM.
The price has been reduced to suit the time*.
Send for circular giving full description and
term*.
Globe Planter M ’fg Co.,
226 Marietta Street, Atlanta. Ga.
STEEL PENS.
PATRONIZE HOME INOUSTRY.
Wo are now offering to the public STEEL
PENS of our own manufacture. Our
Plowboy Eagle
Is the best business pen in the market, 75 cent*
per gross, postpaid to any address on receipt of
price. And for line writing our
Plowboy Favorite
Surpasses any pen yet made, SI.OO per gross
postpaid, on receipt of price. Samples on ap-
THE PLOWBOY CO.,
East Point, Ga.
THE PLOWBOY CO.
IS PREPARED TO DO
NEWSPAPER
WORE
Os Fvery Description In
THE BIST POSSIBLE MANNER.
And At »he Slic rtest Notice. We Furniak
READY PRINT
IKSIDES OR OUTSIDES
Por Newspapers,
OF THE
Hiilust (Mer ot Kicelletce.
NEWSPAPER HEADS
M into to Order
from tie Latest Style of Typo,
Publishers who desire to furnish theii
subscribers with the greatest amount es
reading matter at the least coat, will da
well to communicate with us at once,
We will print the inside or outside, 01
the entire paper, if desired.
Kamplee of Ready Prints sent on ap
plication, and prices quoted that ait
surprisingly low and defy competition.
All we ask i an opportunity to servt
our fellow publishers, confident that wt
can give satisfaction.
THE f LOWBOY 00.
E«t Poiiti Qo