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the mercury.
En»««d ■■ seoond-clM* matter at the San-
^ deraville Poetoffloo, April 27, 1880.
gandersTlUe, Wtthlngton County, Ga.
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VOL. I.
SANDERSVILLE, GA., NOVEMBER 2, 1880.
NO. 31.
THE MERCURY.
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G. W. H. WHITAKER
DENTIST,
Sandersville, Ga.
Terms Casit.
Offloo at hi. reeidenoe on Harris Street.
April 3, 1830.
B. D. EVANS,
Attorney at Law,
April 3, 1880^
Sandersville, Oa.
DR. WM. RAWLINGS,
Physician & Surgeon,
Sandersville, Ga.
Office at Sandersville Holol.
April 10, 1880.
E. A. SULLIVAN,
NOTARY PUBLIC,
Sandorsville, Ga.
Special attention given to collection ol
obums.
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Attorney at Law,
Saudorsvillo, Ga.
Prompt attention given to all businoss.
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May *, 1880.
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Attorney at Law,
Sandersville, Ga.
WS1 practioe in the State and United States
Courts.
Offloe in Court-House.
H. N. HOLLIFIELD,
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Sandenvillo, Ga.
Offloe next door to Mrs. Bayne’s millinery
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Settles, ise Glasses, Etc.
Music,
Music.
The Ministers Daughter.
In the minister’s morning sermon
Ho hud told of tho primal fall,
And how thenceforth tho wrath ol God
Rested on ench and all.
And how, ol His will and pleasure,
All souls, savo a chosen few,
Wore doomed to the quenchless burning,
And held in the way thereto
Vet nevor by faith’s unreason
A snintlier soul was tried,
And never tho harsh old lesson
A tendorer hoatt belied.
And, after tho painful eorvice
On that pleasant Snbbath day,
He walked with his little daughter
Through tho apple-bloom ol May.
Sweet in tho irosh green meadows
Sparrow and blnckbird sung;
Abovo him t h cii tinted petals
The blossoming orohards bung.
Around on tho wondorlul glory
Tho minister lookod and smiled;
" How good is the Lord who gives us
Those gilts lrom His hand, my child!
" Behold in the bloom ol apples
And tho violets in the sward
A hint ot tho old, lost beauty
Ol llio guidon ol the Lord!”
Then up spake the litilo maiden,
Treading on snow nnd pink;
"Oh, father! these pretty blossoms
Aro very wiokod, I think.
“ Had tbore been no garden ol Eden
There never bad been a lull;
And il novor a tree bad blossomed
God would have loved us all.”
" Hush, child!” tho lather answered,
“ By Ilia decree man tell;
Ills ways aro in olouds nnd darkness,
Bnt IIo doctli all things well.
' Arid whether by His ordaining
To ns ootneth good or ill,
Joy or pain, or light or shadow,
We must tear and love Him still.”
" Oh, 11car Him!” snid tho dnughter,
“And I try to lovo Him, too;
But I wish He was good and gontle,
Kind and loving as you.”
rho minister groaned in spirit
As tho tremulous lips of pain
And wide, wot eyes uplifted
Questioned his own in vain.
Bowing liis head he pondered
1 he worus ot the liltlo one;
Ibid lie erred in his 1'lelong teaching
Had he wrong to his Master done'!
To wt at grim nnd droadlul idol
Had he lent tho holiest name?
Did Ids own heart, loving and human,
1 ho God ol his worship sliamo ?
And lo! Irom the bloom und greenness,
From the tender tides above,
And the face of his liltlo daughter
IIo read a lesson ol love.
No more ns the cloudy terror
U1 Sinai’s mount of law,
Ilut ns Christ in the Syrian lilies
Tho vision ol God ho saw.
Ami as when, in tho clefts of Hortb,
Of old was His pro8onco known,
Tho drond ineffable glory
Was Infinite goodness alone.
Thcrcaltor 1 is heaters noted
In his piayers a tenderer strain,
And never tho gospol of hatred
Burned on liis lips again.
And tho scoffing tongue was prayerful,
And the hi nded eyes found sight,
And hearts, as flint nloretimo,
Grow sett in his warmth and light. *•
—John G. Whtticr, in Atlantic Monthly.
JERNIGAN
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VIOLINS,
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BOWS,
STRINGS,
Rosin boxes, etc.
Machine Needles,
OIL and SHUTTLES
* or all kinds o( Machines, for sale. I will
also order parts ot Machines that get
broke, and new pieces
aro wanted.
J A. J. JERNIGAN.
nA!r 1{ ' v ?°d s preacher once elucidat ed
hie ’*! °onnection with the para
mo hi: llP : “In ancient times,
attorn (>Vfid I 10 . lrer3 ' 5ti was tlle custom,
■rivecpftpie had been married, for t n
t'° °ut with lighted lamps
hpqn l0P - °. m on way home, five oi
temali'3 V,llgin8 be * u ^ males and five
better h.ir bi f ollolor will shriek for a
il on‘ h c 1 “ nK,rslt
THE STORY OF A YEAR.
Very handsome looked Linda Brent
on this brilliant New Year’s day, as she
moved like a queen through her aunt’s
handsomely furnished drawing-room.
Not one of all the throng whom she
welcomed so cordially and who wished
her a happy New Year could have imag
ined the disquieting thoughts pressing
on her mind, for to-day she Was to give
her final answer to Denham Edwards,
and—she loved him.
He was poor; she looked down the
room; it was a brilliant vista. The
bright lights, the marbles, the mirrors,
the exquisite blue and silver furnishings,
the waving lace curtains, with glimpses
of the conservatory beyond—could she
give it all up, although she was but
here on sufferance, and subside into a
ife of poverty in narrow apartments
with Denham EdwardsP
The struggle was sharp and bitter, for
there was much that was noble in her
character, but she was poor and depend
ent, and she hated poverty, although
one would think that the poverty ol
three thousand a year would not be too
hard to bear for the sake of the man she
loved. The question had not yet been
decided in her mind when she heard a
low, musical voice at her sidrn
"A very happy New Year, Miss
Linda;” and raising her eyes, she saw
an earnest, loving look on Denham
Edward’s face; it was gone in an in
stant, it was meant but for her.
“A thousand thanks! And shall f
wish you many in return, or is it only
necessary to wish you one at a time, and
wait until next year lor a repetition?
slie gayly replied.
'‘If you were to make this, one a
‘Happy New Year’ for me, Linda.it
would last for all time,” he replied, in
low, earnest tones.
“ Hush, Denham."
And again there was a short, sharp
struggle, which he saw quite plainly on
her face and was prepared for the an-
“ No, it can never, never be.
Her voice sounded lar away and dim
to herself; whs she really speakingP
But looking up, she saw the proud,
scornful look on her lover’s face, as with
a profound bow he left her.
Mechanically he leit the home and
entered the carriage. The driver said,
fPRnectfullv, ‘‘Where next, sirP to
which he replied, fiercely: “ Any wheie,
aD ” FoollhaU wa»,"bo thought—"! :oi
and thrice a fool to tbi.rk that she
would be different from the restl It’s
all money, money, money. And yet I
believe she has noble impulses and that
she loved me, but not enough to marry
on three thousand a year. Twenty
thousand—ah, ihat would have made a
difference. Is it or is it not a fortunate
thing for me that no one knows that
Uncle Aleck’s heirs cannot be found.
But underneath ilia thoughts was a
bitter longing that she had not known
—a wish that he had been deceived, and
tlint his eyes had never been opened.
Wrapped in his musing?, ho never
noticed where they were driving, but
was disagreeably awakened by feeling a
dull thud, then a shout and the car
riage suddenly stopping.
Jumping hastily out, he found that
his driver had run over a little blue-
coated messenger—that was all
‘‘Ho won’t bo missed; plenty more
left,” some one sard, heartlessly.
Denham stopped not to answor, but,
picking the little fellow up and asking
him where he lived, bade the man drive
quickly, and was off before the crowd
Knew what had happened.
It was a long way they had to go, nnd
Denham pitied tho llttlo fellow, who
was trying to bear the pain so manfully.
Ho had a pale, thin face, with large,
earnest eyes and a confiding manner. It
was not very difficult, to get him to tell
bis history.
His name was Henry Winton. His
mother had been dead a long time; his
father died two years ago. His oldest
sister, Emily, taught school, and there
wore two little sisters, May and Edna,
who were going to school; and ho wns
a messenger-boy, nnd helped bis sister.
And then his eves shut; but the tears
would force their way through, and
Denham knew that he was thinking that
now he could not help.
"Never mind, my little man. I will
see that you shall be no loser by f ills
accident. 1 will pay your wnges just
the snme.”
But the kind words were not heard,
for the child had fainted.
By this time they had nrrived at the
house the child had directed them to.
Tenderly lifting the boy out, and send
ing the driver and carriage after his old
friend, Dr. Black, Denham carried him
in, and, inquiring his way, was directed
to the third floor.
The door was open, and three
frightened-looking faces were peering
out; reassuring them that the child was
not killed,but fn a faint, he entered, and,
placing him on abed, assisted the eldest
sister in restoring him. Itwas not long till
the doctor arrived. Ho pronounced the
wound not at all dangerous; one leg was
broken, but all he needed wns good care
and attention.
Denham s quick ear caught a sup
pressed sigh, and, turning quickly, saw
a very thoughtful look come over the
elder sister’s face; and, stepping back
into the shadow unobserved, took n
close survey of the room nnd its occu
pants while the doctor was giving his
directions.
With the exquisito neatness and the
general air ot refinement which the
room possessed, he had not noticed
the poverty; now, a3 ho looked closely,
lie saw how threadbare and worn every
thing waa.
He was roused from his observations
by the doctor turning lo him, as he had
given his final directions. Stepping up
to the bedside, he said:
“Now, ray little man, you must nol
allow this to worry you too much. 1
will see that you do not lose anything,
and il the situation bo lost, why, we’ll
try if a better one cannot be found; so
do not fret, or I shall, too, and 1 know
you would not like tlint." Then, turn
ing, with his winning grace, he said:
"Miss Winton?" an interrogation in
his voice.
She bowed.
“ I shall take the liberty of coming to
see my little friend again, and 1 nm
sorry indeed that I have been the means
of giving you such a bad beginning for
ycur new year.”
What wa3 there in his voice that
moved her so strangely to pity, not foi
herself, but for him?
liaising her large brown eyes she at
tempted to say something commonplace;
but, failing, she merely bowed, and they
parted.
Denbam and the doctor made their
way downstairs, and getting into the
carriage, drove off together.
“ A rather nice family that, but pretty
hard pushed to get along, I should
think.” said the doctor. “ Did you
notice the tableP Not much there for a
festal repast. It will need all your tact
to help them, too,; for, although Miss
Winton ha9 a sweet face, there aro some
very haughty lines about that mouth.
Did you notice her?”
“ II" scornfully replied Denham.
“No. I have done with women lorever.
This day marks an epoch in my life. I
won’t conceal from you, my oldest and
best friend, that Linda lias rejected me,
and for wliatP—money! For I know she
loves me as she will never love another;
and when a woman as noble, ns truth
ful and as high-minded, will deliberately
turn against her best affections and
noblest impulses, what can you expect
from the common lot of petty, gossiping
women, whose minds are nothing but
a reflection of the last fashion plate P
The sweet-faced Miss Winton would do
the same. 1 warn you, too, before you
set too deep, to beware of the charming
Miss Elsie, although I know you will
not rest until you singe your wings, too.
But I must see about sending my little
friend some delicacies. I have taken
quite a fancy to him. How manfully he
bore the pain! I wonder will he bear
the wounds of the heart in future year,
as well 9 He little Knows, poor fellow,
that this suffering is light to what he
will have to endure some day.”
The doctor was pained to see his
frrnnd in such a bitter mood. He had
known him all his life; they were boys
together, were in college together, and
never had their friendship been broken.
And knowing Denham’s deeply-affec
tionate nature, he kr.ew not how to con
sole him. If it had been u more wildly
reckless mood he could have met it bet
ter, but this despairing bitterness he
knew not how to deal with.
So they rode in silence till, reaching
Broadway, Denham drove to fruiterers,
confectioners and florists, ordering the
most delicious dainties to be sent to his
little friend. This over, the doctor said:
“ Now, Denham, where next? Won’t
you come with me to Mrs. Dale’s P You
have a card, I know.”
“No,” said Denham. “I have cut
all that now. Prove to mo that there is
one woman who would not sell her soul
for money, and perhaps you may restore
my faith in woman nature, I shall
spend the evening in another search
through Uncle Aleck’s papers in hoses
of finding home clew to the name of the
man Aunt Alice married. Plague tnke
it! I wish he had not given me quite
such n search, but had left the money to
some orphan asylum at once."
“But perhaps, alter all, you may be
the heir. Who knows what may be in
the will when opened?" said the dootor,
as he turned away.
A great change came over Denham
Edwards after that Now Year’s day
lie shunned all society; even his favor
ite operas grew distasteful to him. as he
constantly dreaded seeing Lir.da Brent;
the club-house became his only resort.
lie grow sarcastic in his remarks on
women, and was altogether in danger
of growing into a bitter, misanthropical
old bachelor. He himself was not
aware of what had saved him. It was
the influence of Emily Winton.
Ho lmd from the first taken a fancy to
Henry, and, although he had repelled
the idea of Doctor Blaok’s that ho could
ever look at a woman agnin, yet he lmd
observed Miss Winton, and took to
making a study oi her.
He would go there at all hours, at odd
hours— early in the morning on fiis way
to the office, with abasket of fruit, with
magazines, illustrated papers, always
something to cheer and brighten his lit
tle friend’s imprisonment; and many an
evening he spent there In lively, bright
talk, for they were all full of gayety and
fun, and, with his quick, observant eye,
there wa3 little that escaped him.
Ho saw how bravely the elder sister
bore the burden of tho weight and sup
port of tho family, tho education of tho
two girls and the care of the boy, and
liow bright nnd linppy she made their
lives. Accustomed to wealth nnd to
seeing women only in society, nnd sur
rounded by luxuries, this waa a new
phase of life to him, and he mode it a
study.
In the meantime he made every effort
to discover his uncle’s missing heirs.
His uncle had die ! leaving him a letter
enjoining him to discover a sister who
lmd eloped wlien quite young with her
Germnn music master, and lmd been
cast oft' by the family and never heard
of since. The will was not to be opened
until a year after his death.
The time was almost up now, nnd
still Denham could come upon no tr.aces
of these Duveneck’s, for suoh he finally
discover! d to bo tho numcot tho man
his Aunt Alice had married.
One evening, while at tho Wintons’,
he went up to their bookcase, and idly
picking up an old-looking volume and
opening it, he saw there the name
“Alice Duvoncck.” Turning around
quickly, ho inquired who that was, and
was told that it was their mamma’s and
grandmamma’s name. Then, to his as
tonishment, he was told by Miss Win
ton that she was but the half-sister to
these children—that her father, who
was a clergyman, had married for his
second wife an orphan girl, a music-
teacher, whose name whb Alice Duve-
ncck.
After listening carefully to all they
could tell him of their mother and
grandmother, ho gained enough of a
clew to clearly establish tho fact withi n
a short time that they were the heirs of
liis Aunt Alice.
Then ho informed them of tho rela
tionship to himself, and tueir probable
good fortune when the will should be
opened; and as $10,000 had been left for
the benefit of any heirs that should be dis
covered before the opening of tho will,
lie insisted upon their moving into
apartments in one of the best boarding-
liouses in the city.
Denham watched with curiosity this
change from poverty to wealth. The
children were delighted, but Miss Wil
ma was not so happy. Indeed, it was
only after long and serious talking witli
Denham that she consented to give up
Iter leaching and become dependent on
them..
lie pointed out to her that they were
as much in need of her care now as ever
they were in their poverty, and that if,
after the will was opened nnd every
thing was settled, she was unhappy, he
would assist her to a^now position.
And so tho days flew quickly by to
the appointed time for the opening of
the will. Denham’s time was very
fully occupied with liis young cousins;
they enjoyed keenly, and lie did every
thing to promote their enjoyment.
He had gone with them to the seaside
during the summer, and had seen tlint
Miss Emily made many friends, and
tliat if she had desired to become inde
pendent by marriage she could have
done so.
It was a bleak November day when
they were assembled in the lawyer’s
office to hear the reading of the will.
The property was something over a
million, and was to be divided equally
between his nephew, Denham Edwards
and his sister Alice, if living, or her
heirs. If she were dead and had no
heirs, then it was all to go to his
nephew.
As Denham was sitting before bis
comfortable fire that evening, thinking
over his good fortune, and of the differ
ence it would have made in his life had
the will been opened a year before—then
Linda would never have refused him—
a great longing came over him to see her
once more.
While still musing, Doctor Black
came in.
“ I have come to congratulate you,"
said the doctor, cheerily. “I don’t be
lieve you look much like a man who has
just come into half a million. I am not
any richer by a red cent, but I am a
happier man than you, Denham—Elsie
is mine.”
The doctor’s voice lowered and soft
ened as he grasped his friend’s hand.
“You said your faith in woman na
ture would be restored if you could see
one woman raised in wealth marrying
a poor man. Now you know of one,
Denham."
“I don’t believe,” said Denham,
slowly, “that I ever lost faith but for
one day; but I congratulate you most
heartily. Your good fortune is better
than mine, Arthur. Your Elsie is a
winning little woman. I would like
her to know Emily.’
The doctor looked at him quickly,
but, seeing his saddened face, toreboro
to say what was in his thoughts, but
merely said:
“Yes, I shall take Elsie to call very
soon. They would probably like eacii
othor.”
“When is the wedding to be?" said
Denham, finally rousing himseif from a
long reverie.
“New Year’s eve,” said the doctor.
“ I am as well off as I probably will be
for some time to come, ana we concluded
that ihero was no use for any longer en
gagement."
* * » * *
And now the wedding night was at
hand, and after the excitement of the
ceremony Was over, and the hnppy
couple were receiving the congratula
tions of their many friends, Denham,
stepping aside to one of the windows,
could not help taking 'a retrospective
view of the past year—with what pain
and suffering it had opened, and all that
it had brought him.
Just then ho saw Linda Brent, and—
did his heart stand stillP No, not one
throb ot feeling wakened at tbe sight of
her. Beautifully and exquisitely dressed
as ever, tliero she stood, and was pow
erless to nffeot him. Was lovo a de
lusion P lie said to himself. Had he
nevor loved tier, or what was it?
He had carefully avoided her for a
year, and now discovered that he cared
no more for her than for a waxen
image. Then his eyes rested on Emily
Winton standing near the bride, and
like n lightning-flash it came over him
—tliero was tiro worn in he loved.
And he smiled to think how, for a
year now, every day lie had thought of
her, of what she was doing, of wliiit she
was thinking, and how slio would act;
nnd that he had never guessed lie was in
lovo with her, but had nursed tho delu
sion that he could nevor more love any
woman hut Linda Bront.
Tho next day, New Year’s day, he
went to see Emily Winton; not that lie
did not go every day, but to-day lie
went with an especial purpose, to find it
he could ever hope to wm her for his
wife.
So lie began by telling the story of the
year; of liis love for Linda Brent, and
now it had faded sway beforo the bright
ness of his true lovo for her.
Emily listened lo tho outpouring of
his love, and for answer said, softly:
"I loved you, Denham, from that
New Year’s day.”
*******
“ I thought so," said the doctor, when
told the conclusion, “ but I long ago
learned never lo say all that I think to n
mnn in love.”
A Blind Man Climbs Mount Blanc.
F. J. Campbell, a blind man, gives in
the London Times tho following de
scription of liis ascent of Mount Blanc:
My ascent of Mount Blanc was not a sud
den, reckless undertaking. It was the
result of a ttxed purpose, and only under
taken niter a long and careful prepara
tion. In order to carry on my work on
behalf of the blind, it was necessary to
keep up my pluck, energy and doter-
minatii n. Skating, swimming, rowing,
riding, have 1.11 contributed their share
to this end, but last year I went to
Switzerland to try mountain climbing.
The experiment wns highly successful.
This year 1 went lignin, accompanied by
my wife, son, and his highness Prince
Alexander George of Hesse. After
four weeks’ continuous work on the
glaciers nnd in the various mountain
ascents, I wenttoChnmounix.nnd with
out difliculty achieved tho object of my
summer's excursion.
In company wi-h my son, with Benoit
as my leading guide, I attacked Mount
Blanc. At first the guides expected to
drag mo up, but I cave them their choice
to leave me to climb in my own way or
give up tho undertaking. I whb re
solved to make an honest climb or give
up tire ascent. I took ray place on the
rope in the ordinary way, oxeopt that
tlie distance helween my son nnd myself
was only a few feet. This enabled me
to follow his footsteps closely, and in
sucli places ns the very dangerous
crevasse near the grand plateau we
moved in immediate succession. For
instance, before lie would take tho
lingers of his right hand out of the hole
which hud been cut in the ice wall for
tlie purpose, uiy left hand would touch
his right liund and be ready to occupy
tlie hole as soon as he relinquished it.
With tlie exception of cutting very ex
cellent steps for me, tlie guides during
tho nscent did not assist me in any way.
I was glad to find that tlie ascent of such
steep places n9 tlie Bosso was much
easier than I had anticipated. Tho cut
ting of steps required considerable time,
and allowed me at my leisure to prepare
tor i ach difficult aud dangerous step
Besidos carrying a strong alpenstock, I
always take with me in difficult climbs a
short walking-slick, which I oflen use in
my right hand as an indicator, and to
show the skill which it is possible to at
tain in this way, I may mention that I
did not miss a single step in tlie entire
ascent. When 1 reached the sum
mit, Benoit exclaimed : “Welcome to
the summit of Mount Blanc. You are
tlie first and last blind gentleman who
will ever stand upon this tlie highest
point in Europe.” But my mind was
busy. Passing from peak to peak, I
went round the entire circle, dwelling
on many favorite summits. They had
all been cnrefully studied; nnd ench in
its turn brought some new winged hope
for the future. It was very cold, and
the guides soon reminded us that we
must begin the descent. Beforo doing
so, however, I consecrated my life
anew to the blind, nnd have now re
turned to England to prosecute this one
purpose of my life. In difficult climbs
I rely entirely upon my own careful
steps and tlie strength of my own arm,
but in making descents it is otherwise,
especially over snow slopes. Hero I
take the guide’s arm and tbe alpenstock
in the other hand and bound down
with great rapidity. We made tlie de
scent from tho summit to tlie Grands
Mulets in three hours and thirty min
utes.
Andre’s Prophetic Poem.
During the years 1779 and 1780 Andre
was on duty in Now York and took n,
ieadingpart in tlie social life of that
city. He accompanied Sir Henry Clin
ton at the capture of Stony Point, June
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 i quibs in prose and verse for tiie
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 General Wayne upon a block
house near Bull’s Ferry, two or throe
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 Rivington’s
Gazette, September 23, 1780, tho day of
the poet’s eaptuie at Tarrytowu. The
last stanza is as follows:
And now I’ve closed ray epio etrain,
I tremble as I show it,
Lost this same warrior drover, Wayne,
Should ever catch the poet.
It happened, singularly enough, that
General Wayne was the commander of
the postatTappan at the time of Andre’s
execution. Tno original oi the “ Cow
Chase,” in Andre’s autograph, is still
preserved, aud underneatn tlie above-
S uoted lines an American pen has added
twoommenUry:
When toe epio strain was sung,
The poet'by the nook wm hung,
IN THE ARCTIC REGIONS.
Lieutenant ttahwatka’a Lolls Journey In
Nearelt ot ltellee of sir John Franklin.
Lieutenant Schwntka, leader of the
American expedition in search of relics
of the Artie explorer, Sir John Franklin,
has given a Now York reporter an in
teresting account of his long journey
over snow nnd ice. Lieutenant Scuwatka
said:
‘ The records of Sir John Franklin’s
expedition we have not found, but we
have discovered, as I think, sufficient
evidence of tlioir destruction and of tlie
final fate of Franklin’s men. We have
given a decent burial to their remains
and brought hack a number of relics.
I can show you some of the smallor
ones, picked up near Erebus bay."
Rising, Lieutenant Schwntka un
screwed a wooden box that stood upon
tlie table. It was filled witli different
articles cnrefully labeled.
" Here is a tourniquet,” he snid, band
ing out a rust-eaten instrument. There
were tarnished brass buttons, n piece of
a measuring stick, tho bit of an auger,
the bowl of a spoon, and a number of
broken nnd rusty pieces oi iron belong
ing to various implements used by
Franklin’s party.
“These aro only a few," said Lieuten
ant Schwntka; “tho other relics will
arrive to-morrow night, including the
prow ol a boat found near Wilrnot bay.
All the things left by Franklin’s men
have been btoken up, and many of them
stolen by tli • Esquimaux. These relics
will he sent to the British admiralty.
Now tliero is ono tiling about whion I
want to sponk. Tho London Standard
and some other English papers have
questioned the propriety of mv bringing
home Lieutenant Irving’s nones for
burial. Tho advisability of doing tins
was the only point nbout which Ihosi-
tated during tlie journey. On my way
up the coast I collected tlie bones for in
terment whore they lay. On my re
turn, alter a long consultation with my
companions, I decided to bring tnem to
England. I was decided in doing this
by my own feeling that I should lFko to
have any bono in my body brought
borne by any nation for interment in
my native country. I nm sorry to see
that a portion of a nation should tako
such exceptions to what another nation
does conscientiously witli their bravest
dead, for 1 believe Sir John Franklin’s
men were tlie bravest Englishmen that
ever lived.
“ In my opinion, then, this expedition
lias sott led the late of FrankHn’s men.
Tho journey lias been carried out on
sleds, and wo hnvo gained subsistence
from the country through which we
passed. This is something new, I be
lieve, in Arctic explorations, nnd by
some is held to have given a very valu
able pieced.mt. For my part, I think
experience of comparatively little vnlue
in Arctic traveling. What is valuable
is a man’s owu energy, determination
and pluck.
“Geographically, something bps been
accomplished, ns the admiralty charts
have been discovered to bo widely in
error, sometimes boing fifteen or twenty
miles out of the way. It would be pos
sible now to construct a correot chart o
tlie country through which wo passed.
This iswlmtl think has been accom
plished. Of course tliero were mmy
details in our sled journey of 3,000 miles
which nre perhaps interesting in them-
selees. Tliero were three white men
besides myself in the party and thirteen
Inuits in all, for when the Inuits travel
they always lake their women and ohil-
dren. Our journey was to be on sleds,
and we followed tho hnhits of the Esqui
maux as nearly as possible. In addition
to heavy underclothing, wo won what
was practically two complete suits of
fur clotning. This was made of rein-
deerskin, one suit having the hail turned
out and tho other thin. The inner pair
of trousers is called ‘lwopals’, and the
outer ‘ kok llns.’ Wo wore long stock
ings, * las lektls,’ coming up above tlie
knee. Tiie cap is attached to the outside
coat, the whole being called ‘ coute-
lung.’ Tho cap tits closely around the
fnc o. The shoes were made of tho skin
taken from the head of the reindeer.
‘ The sleds were perlmps fifteen or
eighteen feet long. The innnersarcof
whalebone and the sides are inclined
out a little. This is dono by the use of
whale cask staves for cross pieces, and
makes tlie sleds run more easily. On
these cross pieces tlie provisions and
luggage are carried wrapped up in deer
skin, and lashed-in place by sealskin
thongs. I started from Depot island
witli fortv-two dogs. There would be
perhaps fifteen to a sled. They are
driven by menns of a whip witli a very
long lasli, always long enough to reach
the hading dog, although he maybe
thirty led away from the sledge.
“Our sled loads amounted to be
tween 4 000 and 5,000 pounds when wo
started. We were splendidly armed
and carried plenty of ammunition.
Then we took a good deal in tlie way
of provisions, such as hard bread, pork,
c impressed corn be f, oleomargarine,
coffee and lea. and other articles. We
lmd also some walrus meat; hut v/c-
were determined to depend chiefly on
the tame in the country that we passed
through. This is where the expedition
differed from most Arctic explorations.
When we left Camp Daly, April 1,
1879, we had a pretty fair idea of the
experience we would have, for we had
made Home preliminary sled journeys,
and lmd habituated ourselves to Jiving
in Esquimaux ‘igloos’ or snow huts.
There was considerable risk when
sledging overland of finding hills so
high that it would be impossible to get
the sleds over them; and then there
was some danger of not finding sufli-
cienc game. Our first day’s journey wa>
only ten miles, and for tho first month
we averaged about eight miles daily.
All tlie distances are in my note book.
“We were encouraged,” Lieutenant
Schwatka continued, “ by coming across
some "reindeer April 5, and laolooah,
one of our Esquimaux, killed two white
does; another killed one. This was re
assuring as to tlie prospect for food, and
so long as we could get plenty of fresh
meat there was uo daDger of scurvy. In
traveling everything was taken on the
sleds instead of using portage; that is,
sending a part of tiie load ahead with
the men and following with the rest.
And I forbade riding on the sleds ex
cept when going down a hill. Some
hills that wo came to were so steep that
we were obliged to lower the sleds.
When the temperature was low these
sleds ran very easily. We threw water
over tho lunners, which froze, and made
a surface of ice over the whalebone.
At night we built little huts, or ‘ igloes ’
of ice, banked up with snow, the open
ing or door being very small. In one
corner was our fire, which was a rattier
peculiar one. A hemispherical stone
lamp was used, containing oil and bits
ot sobs, and little fires were built
around and on the sides. If it became
so warm in the hut that the snow melted
and dripped, and tbe air became too
close, we made a small hole ttirough’the
top. This hole was also convenient
sometimes to fire the Coston signals
through when' tlie wolves came aronnd
ntnight. We used deerskins and seal
skins f r protection at night. Some had
deerskin bags that they could crawl
into, and be perfectly snug.
“ The nights as a rule were very com-
fortablo, but it was unpleasant ou wak
ing in the morning to find one’s stock
ings, that hAd become wet on the pre
vious day, frozen hard and stiff. The
wolves annoyed us somewhat, both
from their noise and on account oi our
fears tliat they would attack the dogs.
The Esquimaux have a pleasant way of
killing them. They take a sharp-pointed
piece of whalebone, tio it up with
sinews and smear tho whole with oil,
or put i lubber around it and let. it
freeze. The wolf swallows the lump.
The sinews gradually become relaxed
nnd pnninlly digested, and tbe whale
bone, springing out, pierces tho entrails
of the animal. Tho Inuits who accom
panied us were of tlie greatest valuo in
hunting. In nil wo s lot 511 reindeer,
four musk-oxen and innumerable seals,
walruses and othor animals In walrus
hunting it is impossible to get the ani
mats when the wind is blowing tho ice
offshore. But when tho wind brings
tiie ice in shoro the walruses come in,
and climb up on cakes of ice. Then the
Esquimaux crawl over the hummocks
until they get near enougli to throw the
harpoon. This coil ot line lies on the
arm, nnd they let it out through their
hands— usually bnre—whon the animal
plunges into the water. It may take
two or three thrusts, but at last tue
game is hauled on tho ice, and tho hun
ter rewards himself with a drink of
warm blood.
“When an Esquimau finds a slight,
rounded elovation in the ice, with a lit
tle opening, ho knows it to be a seal-
hole, nnd lie stations himself beside it
with liis harpoon ready in ono hand and
his coil of line around; his neck. After
a timo lie hoars a ‘ whew-w whew-w’
underneath the ice. When this is re
peated lie plunges down the harpoon,
which usunlly strikes tho seal’s bead.
Tli • E-quimmi being stronger than the
seal tlie unfortunate brute, aftor run
ning with the line for a while, is pulled
up through a hole out in the ice. Every
part of the reindeer, walrus and seal is,
used by tlie Esquimaux. They even eat
tlin contents of the reindeer’s stomach
nnd tlie entrails of all are utilized. The
flesh and blubber aro sometimes eaten
raw and sometimes cooked. The Esqui
maux with us killed a great deal of
game, and the very dogs helped us by
hurrying forward when theie was a
prospect of getting any, for they aro al
ways hungry.”
He (lonldn’t Help It.
There was another case yesterday of a
boy who couldn’t help it. A prominent
and dignified citizen was looking
through tho third-story window of a
block on Jefferson avenue, which he
hud thoughts of renting, when the idea
suddenly struck him to look into the
alley in the rear. Ho raised the sash of
a window and peered out upon ash
boxes, coal scuttles and barrels of straw
without number, and was about to close
liis observations when the sash came
down with a thud and struck him be
hind his shoulders. In his fright he fell
to liis knees, and while the solid half of
liis body was all right, the lighter was
over tho window-sill. In addition to
the we’-lit of the sash any movement of
the body wns accompanied by pain. Tho
sasli could not be reached with his
hands jreely enough to lilt it, nnd it
soon occurred to tho prominent citizen
tliat ho ought to have helo. He could
not expect it from behind, for ho was
alone in tlie store, but as be looked down
into tlie alley a boy came stumping along
to find something wortli lugging away.
“He'lo! boy, hello!” called the citi
zen.
“ Iloilo yourseli!” replied the boy as
he lookod up.
“ Say, boy, come under tbe window
here; I want to speak to you.”
"Not much, yor don’t,” onuckled tho
gamin. “ You can’t drop no coal-scut
tles on mv head."
“ But I don’t mean to.”
“ Mebbe not, but you’ve got a bad
face on you for all that. Whon did you
get out of the jug?”
“Boy, 1 want you're help.”
“So docs yer aunt! Don’t get me to
stand in with no such duffer as you
are I”
“ I am caught in this window and
want to .act out."
"So would I! Been prospecting for
old junk, eh! You’ll get six months for
that!”
“If you'll come upstairs and help me
out I’ll aive vou a dollar!”
“ A dollar! You can’t play no dollar
store on mo, old man! If you make up
another Fme like that at me I’ll hit you
in the eye with this old lemon. I don’t
look starched up, but I don’t let any
man insult me all the same.”
“ Don’t you know who I amP” softly
asked the citizen.
"Naw, 1 don’t, but I’ll bet the per-
loece do! You’ve got one of the Hardest
mugs on you I ever saw, and I’ve a good
mine to give you one, just for luok!
Look out, now!’’
He made as if he would throw, and
the citizen dodged. This was such fun
for tlie hoy that he kept it up three or
four minutes, and the offer of two dol
lars had no effect ou him. Then he
gathered six or eight old lemons and
oranges together and said:
“ 1 believe you are the boss hyena who
knocked dad down at the caucus, and
I’m going to drive your noso back ex
actly an inch!”
“ If you throw at me I’ll call tho
police!” exclaimed the citizen.
‘‘Tliesooner ye call the sooner ye'll
be jugged! Here’s to hit you square on
your nose!"
The opening of the back door of a
store and the appearance of a man dis
concerted the lad’s aim and the lemon
struck i lie citizen’s hat instead of his
nose, liis yells brought a climax, but
the air was full of tropical fruit even as
the boy dusted down the alley and
turned a corner.
Tho boy couldn’t help acting that
way. He was bom so. It wouldn’t
have been a bit like a boy to run up
stairs and release the man. He didn’t
have a fair show with his spoiled
lemons, but boys soon get over disap
pointments.— Detroit Free Press.
A horse iu Nevada, being sick
colic, eimed his sufferings by deli bar
dashing out its brains against the i
wall ot the corral. It was in Nei
also, that a pet dog reoently comm
suicide by drowning.