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m the mercury. En»««d ■■ seoond-clM* matter at the San- ^ deraville Poetoffloo, April 27, 1880. gandersTlUe, Wtthlngton County, Ga. PUBLISHED BT JERNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH. Botoeriptkm. •®1.60 per Tear. THE MERCERY. A. J. JERNIGAN, Pkoprietob, DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE AND GENERAL INTELLIGENCE. 11.60 PER ANNUIfc VOL. I. SANDERSVILLE, GA., NOVEMBER 2, 1880. NO. 31. THE MERCURY. PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY. NOTICE. ggg— All communication, intended for this paper mast be accompanied with the loll name of the writer, not neoeeeariljr tor pnbli. cation, bnt ns a guarantee of good (aith. We are in no way responsible ior the views or opinions of correspondents. 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. Offloo in the Court-House. 0. H. ROGERS, Attorney at Law, Saudorsvillo, Ga. Prompt attention given to all businoss. Offloo in northwoet room ol Court-llouao. May *, 1880. C. C. BROWN, Attorney at Law, Sandersville, Ga. WS1 practioe in the State and United States Courts. Offloe in Court-House. H. N. HOLLIFIELD, Physician & Surgeon, Sandenvillo, Ga. Offloe next door to Mrs. Bayne’s millinery store on Harris Street. DR. J. B. ROBERTS, Physician & Surgeon, Sandersville, Ga. May be consulted at his offloe on Haynes street, in the Masonio Lodge building, from 9 a m to 1 p m, and irom 8 to A p m; daring other hours at his residence, on Ghuroh street, when not professionally engaged. Aprils 1880. Watches, Clocks AND JEWELRY UPAIIKD BT JERNIGAN. POSTOFFICE HOURS. 7:00 to 11:30 a. m, 1:30 to 6:00 p. m. E. A. Sullivan, P. M. Subscribe for the MERCURY, Only 91.60 per annum. PUBLISHED BT ■JERNIGAN & SCARBOROUGH. BUY YOUR Spectacles, Spectacles, FROM JERNIGAN. KF"“None genuine without our Trade Mark. On hand and for sale, 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 FOB VIOLINS, ACCORDEONS, 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.