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J. C. HEARTSELL, Ed. and Pub.
VOL XII.
SECRET THOUGHTS.
I hold it true that V oughts are things
Endowed with bodies, breath and wings,
And that we send them forth to fill
Vbe world with good results—or ill.
That which we call oursecret thought,
Speeds to the earth’s remotest spot,
And leaves its blessings or its woes
Like tracks behind it as it goes.
It is God’s law, Remember it
In your still chamber as you sit
With thoughts you would not dare have
known.
And yet make comrades when alone.
These thoughts have life; and they will fly
And leave their impress by and by,
Like some marsh breeze, whose poisoned
breath
Breathes into homes its fevered breath.
And after you have quite forgot
Or all outgrown some vanished thought.
Back to your min i to make its home,
A dove or raven, it will come.
Then let your secret thoughts be far
They have a vital part and share
In shaping worlds and molding fate—
God’s system is so intricate,
—Ella W. VVilcox, in New York Press.
QUIXARVYM RIVAL
kL-i LOODY Sedge-
.—. » \ m!l0r s battle had
4 , ' been fought and lost.
9^ fo'rjwV again,and Night had in the come old
5 / k* '-
g ra y church of Wes¬
ton Zoyland 500 of
the beaten rebels lay
imprisoned.
The scene inside
■Kjjmujw j the church v,as aw-
_
/ e < lul in its weird im-
r /£--®3ifwS pressiveness. lurid glare of The few
a
torches which were stuck at intervals
against the pillars revealed the forms of
men sitting and lying on the seats and
floor in every attitude of dejection and
despair. Up and down the aisles the iron
shod heels of the sentries rang upon the
pavement. The greater part of the prison¬
ers were silent,or only moaning with the
pain of recent wounds; some were pray¬
ing, one was raving, mad with terror. And
in truth he and his companions had good
cause for fear, for their eonquerer was
Feversbatn, the General of the Royalists,
whose only mode of dealing with a rebel
was to hang or shoot him without more
ado, and who was only waiting for the
daybreak to begin the work of slaughter.
A few only kept their resolution—
among them two were sitting together
in the shadow of the pulpit steps. Both
of these men had been conspicuous in
the fight, and both knew well that they
must die at daybreak.
The elder of the two was a man of
about thirty-five, with powerful thick¬
set frame, and strong and rugged fea¬
tures; a bad man to have against one,
one might say. He was by trade » horse-
breaker, ■ei cr
was to break in the wild colts of the
marsh. His companion was some six or
eight years younger. His figure was tall
and slight, but finely made, and his face
was singularly handsome. He was the
swiftest runner in the West of England,
perhaps in the whole kingdom. His name
was David Dare; that of the elder man
John Quixarvyn. Both were natives of
the town of Axbridge,but, until the day
before, they had been strangers to each
other. Chance hid made them comrades
in the contest, where they had fought
side by sideand where the same troop of
Royalists had seized them both.
The two were silent. Quixarvyn had
pulled out a short black pipe, had filled
and lighted it and was now smoking
tranquilly. His companion had also
pulled out something from his breast,but
it was not a pipe; it was the portrait of
a beautiful young girl. Ho took a long
look at the lovely face,a look which said
farewell.
Quixarvyn watched him. In the dim
light in which they sat he could not see
the features of the portrait, but he
guessed how the case stood.
“Poor fellow 1” he said, with more
tenderness than would have been ex¬
pected minute’s from silence, his he looks. Then, after a
went on, as much
to himself as to the other. “And yet
my case is harder. I was in love—I am
in love, God help me!—and I also have
her portrait in my breast. What would
I give if I could look on it as you can
look on yours 1”
Dare looked at him with interest.
“Whatl” he said, “have you also the
lame trouble—a poor girl who will go
distracted when she hears of what has
happened to you?”
“No,” said the other bitterly; “she
will not go distracted; she has had
enough of me, and I shall have the pain
ot dying unrevenged upon the knave
who robbed me of her.”
It was strange to see how in a mo¬
ment his eyes had grown ablaze with
passion. The young man looked at him
in astonishment.
“Who was it?” he inquired.
“Who was it?” echoed the other. “Do
you think if I knew that that I should
now have cause to writhe at dying with¬
out crying quits with him? No, I do
not know him. I only know she loved
me, that she cooled toward me; that
when I asked her plainly whether she
had found a younger and a better look¬
ing man she confessed that it was true
and threw herself upon my generosity to
set her free from our engagement. I
did so—in a frenzy of mad passion. But
whtu I asked her for his name she would
SPRING PLACE. MURRAY COUNTY. GA. MARCH 10, 1892.
not tell me, fearing, I dare say, that I
might twist his neck. I should soon
have found him,but then this war broke
out and ia my rage I could not keep
myself from rushing to the fight to cool
my blood with blows. A.nd so here I
am, going to be shot at daybreak. But
I swear to heaven if I only had that fel¬
low in my power for one brief minute I
could die contented.”
“You are right,” said the other; “I
should feel the same.”
Quixarvyn drew a portrait from his
breast and held it out to his companion.
“Look,” he said, “is this a face to jilt
a man? though it is one to drive him
crazy. Let me look at yours—it is not
more innocent than this one, I dare
swear.”
The young man took the portrait and
at the same time handed him his own.
Each looked in silence at the portrait in
his hand—in a silence of amazement, of
stupefaction. The two portraits repre¬
sented the same person l
Quixarvyn was the first to break the
silence.
“Whatl” he said, drawing a deep
breath and bursting into a low laugh,
which was both fierce and glad, “you,
was it? To think that I have found you
after all! Fate is kinder to me than 1
fancied.” ,
The other returned his gaze.
“Well,” he said, “it was I, it appears;
though And,” I never knew it, nor suspected
it. he added simply, “it has
been no one’s fault.”
“No one’s fault?”
“No, no one’s. Mary Seldon liked
you, but she did not love you, and when
we met she found out her mistake.
You frightened her with your mad
humors. Without mentioning your
name she tcld me the whole story. You
could not make her happy, and I could;
that’s the whole case. Do you blame
her?”
“No,” said Quixarvyn, thrusting the
portrait back into his breast, “I don’t.
But I have sworn to be equal with the
mau who turned her mind against me—
I will never believe he acted by fair
means—and I am going to do it. De¬
fend yourself; I give you warning.”
Both men sprang to their feet at the
same instant, and stood glaring at each
other. At that moment there was
heard outside the church the rattle of a
drum.
Only the rattle of a drum. But the
sound struck them motionless as figures
turned to stone. Nor was the effect on
their companions less remarkable. There
was a moment's silence in the church,
deep as the silence of the dead; then a
movement—a long thrill of horror. That
summons meant that day was breaking,
and that their hour was come.
The guards set instantly to work to
prepare the first batch of prisoners to be
led out of the church. Dare and Quix-
arvya were among the first seized. With
about a dozen others they were marched
into the open air. The gray dawn was
scarcely giving way to the first streaks
of sunrise as they passed out of the
churchyard gates; but the whole village
was wide awake and in a tumult of ex¬
citement; indeed, there had been little
sleep that night. Every window was
alive with terror-stricken gazers as the
party of doomed men, surrounded by a
band of soldiers, were hurried through
the narrow streets and out upon the
open moor.
At the border of the moor sat an
officer on horseback, surrounded by a
troop of soldiers. Here the party
halted and the guards saluted. The
officer wa3 a man of about forty, whose
dandified appearance, which was as trim
as that of a toy soldier newly painted,
showed cddly in the midst of soldiers
stained with battle. This was Lord
Feversham—a man in whose nature
vanity, callousness and love of pleasure
were about equally combined. His face
was gay with pleasant expectation as the
rebels were drawn up before him.
“Good!” he remarked. “These were
all ringleaders, were they? Sergeant
John, draw up your firing party and
shoot down every man of them.”
The order was instantly obeyed. The
firing party was draw up; the prisoners
were ranged ia line at a few paces dis¬
tance. At one extremity of the line
David Dare and John Quixarvyn found
themselves once more side by side.
An officer who sat on horseback at
Feversham’s right hand observed them.
“I know those two,” he said, point¬
ing to them with his finger. “Pity two
such fellows should be done for. One
of them is the best runner in the coun¬
try side, and the other the best rider.”
“Eh? What?” said Feversham, stand¬
ing up in his stirrups. “Hold there a
moment, Sergeant; I spy a chance of
gallant sport. What say you, Major?—
a race between these two across the
moor, the one on foot, the other mount¬
ed. Will you back the runner?”
The Major was a man of some human¬
ity. Ho reflected for a moment.
“Agreed l” he said. “And to insure
that both shall do their best let the win¬
ner haye the promise of his life.”
Feversham received this proposal with
by no means a good grace, for to spare a
rebel hurt him to the soul. But the
delightful prospect of seeing two men
racing for their lives and of being able,
after all, to shoot the loeser, at length
reconciled him to the scheme. He gave
his orders and the two prisoners were
led out of the line.
Out upon the moor, about a quarter
of a mile away, stood a solitary tree.
This was selected as the starting point.
A double line of troopers was drawn up
stretched from the tree to the spot where
the General was stationed, leaving a
“TELL THE TRUTH”
•pace between them like a racecourse
some yards wide. At the end of the
course Feversbatn and the Major sat op¬
posite each other. Whichever of the
two competitors should pass between
them first would be rewarded with his
life and liberty.
And what were the sensations of tho
pair while these preparations were in
progress?
David Dare, standing before the mus¬
kets of the firing party, had heard tho
strange proposal with a sudden thrill of
hope, so keen that it was almost like a
pain. Then for a moment his heart fell
again. He knew his own speed of foot,
' ’it he knew also that against, fleet
a
horse urged by a skillful rider spurring
for dear life his chance was likely to be
small. Still there was hope again and he
could do his best. More he could not
do, though success meant life—and life
with Mary Seldom
In the meantime a trooper had dis¬
mounted, and Quixarvyn, armed with
whip and spurs, having taken his place
in the saddle, tbe horse was led by a
couple of soldiers to the starting point.
Unlike his rival,Quixarvyn’s face showed
no elation. For one moment, on hear¬
ing the proposal, a gleam had come into
his eyes, but now he rode with down
bent head, as if lost in thought. A sen¬
tence seemed to be constantly running
iu his head—the sentence used by Dare
in their quarrel in the church—“You
could not make her happy,aud I could.”
He muttered the words over twenty
times. It was not until the tree was
reached and the horse was halted with
his head toward the spot where Fever-
sham, discernible far off between the
lines, sat waiting, that he started, roused
himself, and looked about him.
David Dare was standing on his right,
stripped to tbe waist and without his
shoes, ready for the starter’s signal.
Quixarvyn’s guards dropped the horse’s
bridle; and Sergeant John, who stood
between tne two competitors, drew a
pistol from his belt to give the signal.
The excitement at that moment was
intense. Not a sound was heard in the
still morning air,but all down the double
lines were faces fixed intently on the
two competitors. Feversham and the
Major, with glasses at their eyes, sat
motionless as statues.
The Sergeant raised his pistol. The
report rang out.
At the same instant horse and man
shot out together from the mark. At
first the runner, practiced at flying from
the start, and having less momentum
than the horse, drew out in front. In a
few seconds he was some twenty yards
ahead. Then tlie gap between them
ceased to widen; then it was seen to be
decreasing; the horse was gaining—
slowly at first, but gaining surely, stride
by stride. When half the course was
covered the horse had drawn up level—
and then came such a race as had never
yet been seen. For a hundred yards and
more the two ran locked together, side
by side,the runner almost flying over the
crisp turf, tho horse stretched out in a
fierce gallop, with the rider standing in
the stirrups. And now the goal was only
fifty yards away; but the gazers drew a
deep bieath as they saw that now the
horse was gaining—was drawing out in
front. For one instant it seemed that
all was over; the next, to their amaze¬
ment, they were conscious that the horse
was failing. Then they saw a gallant
sight; they saw the runner nerve him¬
self for a last effort and close upon the
goal, dash past the horse and past the
judges and fall headlong on the turf.
At that scene, in spite of discipline,a
frantic cheer broke forth along tho line.
Even Feversham himself smiled grimly,
as one who, though he had just lost a
bet, had gained its full equivalent m
pleasurable excitement.
The winner, who had fallen panting
and exhausted, was raised into a sitting
posture by two troopers, anu in a few
seconds he was able, though still weak
and dizzy, to stand upon his feet and
look about him.
A few paces off his beaten rival stood
beside his horse. Dare looked at him,
and their eyes met. Quixarvyn’s face
bore an almost imperceptible smilejbutit
was not this, but something in his look
which the other could not have defined,
which struck him backward like a
shock. He staggered back a pace or
two, bewildered by the light which
broke upon his mind. Then he stepped
up to his rival’s side,and the guards, who
saw no cause to interfere, falling back a
little, he put his mouth close to Quix¬
arvyn’s ear'
“You pulled that horse,” he said.
Quixarvyan looked at him, but
answered not a word.
“You let me win,” the other went on,
his voice breaking. ‘ ‘For her sake you
did it.”
Quixarvyn drove his nails into his
palms; he had acted, he was acting, not
without a bitter cost.
“Make her happy,” he said, briefly.
As he spoke he turned away and strode
swiftly to his old position at tho head of
the line of prisoners, before which the
firing party was again drawn up.
Dare turned his back upon the scene
and thrust his fingers in his ears. Never¬
theless, he could still hear with horrible
distinctness the Sergeant’s loud, clear
voice, with an interval between the
words—
“Ready!”
“Present!”
“Fire!”
Almost as the word wa3 given came
the crash of the report. Moved by an
impulse which he could not conquer he
turned around with a shudder. The
soldiers were lowering their smoking
muskets, and a thick white cloud hung
above the line of the prisoners stretched
upon tbe ground. At the extremity of
the line Quixarvyn lay upon his face,
with his right hand clenched upon a
portrait which he had taken irom his
breast, and a bullet through his heart.—
The Strand Magazine.
SELECT SIFTINGS.
A clock made in 1671 is still iu going
order.
Chinese military drums are made of
wood.
There is a singing grovo near Ham¬
burg, Conn.
The Burmese, Kareus, Hungere and
Khans u e lead and silver in bullion foi
cuirnncy.
A little Philadelphia boy has a pet
rabbit which he has trained to draw a
small wagon.
Four pounds of gold have been col¬
lected from the soot of the chimney of
the Royal Mint in Berlin, Germany.
A 8t. Louis (Mo.) woman has opened
an office for the cure of “afflicted minds,
cranks, fanatics, bigots and agnostics.”
It has been proposed to put jinrikshas,
the Japanese sedan chairs on wheels,
drawn by men, in the streets of London.
There is in Buffalo, N. Y., oue line
of street cars on which a car crosses
fifty four railroad tracks in making one
round ti ip.
A ricochet shot from the new maga¬
zine rifle adopted in- England broke a
cottage window four miles distant from
the firing point.
In a Philadelphia cold-storage house,
an English hare has been kept frozen for
fourteen months and is still apparently in
good condition.
There is a strong flow of natural gas
in tho Ventura River. When lighted,it
is said, the flames extend over a space
eight feet wide.
Recently between Tewkesbury and
Cheltenham, in England, iu three min¬
utes, 700 words were seut to a newspa¬
per office and correctly received over a
telephone wire.
At Dresden, Germany, they are bak¬
ing an A merican corn bread that is find-
in"- gu: Jt .,favor and is much cheaper than
their ordinary bread. A pound costs a
trifle over three cents.
The typewriter is fast superseding the
pen in telegraphy. Operators are learn¬
ing to handle the typewriter everywhere,
and new hands are not employed unless
they are experts at the “machine.”
The superstition of the jellow donkey
of India, the story ot the swift ass of
Eastern Asia and the ass of Dionysius
and many other marvelous ass stories, are
all survivals of that curious form of re¬
ligious worship—the adoration of the
ass's head.
The Mormon Temple in Salt Lako
City, Utah, is built in tho form of an
ellipse, and, although it is of enormous
dimensions, it is so well constructed
with regard to acoustics that a person
standing in tho focus at one end can
carry on a conversation in a whisper with
any one in the focus at the other end.
There were blooded dogs in early
Egypt, and highly prized. Their names
were carved on monuments which still
remain. One of them, his name show¬
ing his foreign origin, was called Abai-
karou, a faithful transcription of the
word abaikour, by which tho hunting
dog is designated in many of the Berber
dialects.
A classic account of the distribution
of wheat over the primeval world shows
that Ceres, having taught her favorite,
Triptolemus, the art of agriculture and
the science of breadmaking, gave him
her chariot, a celestial vehicle, and that
m it he traveled night and day distribut¬
ing this valuable grain among all nations
of the earth.
Many a huntsman through a long life
has chased the fox with enthusiastic
ardor who would be surprised to
know that in the very tip of his tail or
brush is a little bunch of hairs twenty-
live or thirty in number, which gives
forth to the despairing and almost van¬
quished beast the refreshing and stimu¬
lating odor of violets.
The very fine collection of postage
stamps bequeathed to the trustees of the
British Museum by the late Mr. Tapling,
Member of Parliament, contains about
200,000 stamps, and its value is esti¬
mated at $300,000. Its late owner was
occupied for over twenty years in its
formation. It is without doubt the finest
collection in the world.
In Dikio, in Adenmouah, in Logone
and elsewhere small cotton strips are the
regular currency. In Bagirari these
strips arc so small that from seventy to
150 of them would have to be pieced
together to make a shirt. In Dar-
foor the gray, coarse shirting circu¬
lates as money, and in Tiout, in upper
Egypt, this material is dyed dark or blue
and then cut into pieces of three yards’
length.
Flights of Insects.
Dr. Marey, the eminent French physi¬
ologist, has been studying the flight oi
insects by photo-chronography, the ap¬
paratus used to obtain photographs allow¬
ing exposures to be made so short as
1-25,000 of a second. His observations
indicate that wings of insects in flight by
meeting obliquely the resistance of tht
air in to-and-fro movements, act in £
very similar manner to the scull used tc
propel boats.—Ne w York Witness.
SI.OO a Year in Advance.
COMPELLING REPARATION.
THE CHILEAN TROUBLE SUGGESTS
OTHER CASES IN OUR HISTORY.
Two Noted Instances—How the King
of Naples Came Down—Captain
Ingraham and the Austrian Navy.
In an article suggested by the trouble
with Chile the New York Sun instances
several cases where the United States
navy was called upon to take a firm
stand against other countries. We quote
as follows.
One of the most attractive cases oc¬
curred during Jackson's Administration
iu 1832. The trouble was with Italy, or
that part of Italy known at that time as
the kingdom of Naples. During the
years from 1809 to 1812, the Neapolitan
Government, under Joseph Bonaparte
and Murat, the successive Kings or
Naples, had confiscated numerous Ameri¬
can ships and cargoes. The total amount
of the American claims, as filed iu the
State Department, against Naples when
Jackson’s Administration assumed con¬
trol was $1,734,994. They were held
by various insurance companies and by-
citizens, principally of Baltimore. De¬
mands for the payment of these claims
had from time to time been made by our
Government, but Naples had always re¬
fused to settle them.
Jackson’s Administration took a de¬
cided stand. The Hon. John Nelson,of
Frederick, Md., was appointed Minister
to Naples and ordered to insist upon a
settlement. Commodore Daniel Patter¬
son, who aided in the defence of New
Orleans in 1815, was put in command'of
the Mediterranean squadron and ordered
to co-operate with Minister Nelson in en¬
forcing his demands. When Naples
persisted in her refusal, a warlike de¬
monstration was decided upon, and Com¬
modore Patterson laid his plans. The
entire force at his commaud consisted ot
three fifty-gun frigates and three twenty-
gun Corvettes. So as not to piecipitate
matters too Hastily the plan was for these
vessels to appear. in the Neapolitan
waters one at a time, and instructions
were given accordingly.
The Brandywine with Minister Nelson
on board went first. Mr. Nelson re¬
peated the demands for a settlement, and
they were refused. There was nothing
in the appearance of a Yankee envoy and
a single ship to trouble King Bomba and
his little kingdom.
The Brandywine cast anchor in the
harbor and the humbled cavoy waited
patiently for a few days. Then another
American flag appeared on the horizon,
and the frigate United States floated
into the harbor and came to anchor.
Mr. Nelson repeated his demands, and
they were again refused. Four days
slipped away, and the Stars and Stripes
again appeared on the horizon. King
Bomba, looking out from his palace
windows, saw the fifty-gun frigate Con¬
cord sail into the harbor and drop her
anchor. Then signs of uneasiness and
alarm began to show themselves. Forts
were repaired, troops drilled, and more
cannon mounted on the coast. The de¬
mands were reiterated, but the Neapoli¬
tan Government still refused. Two
days later another war ship made her
way into the harbor. It was the John
Adams. When the fifth ship sailed
gallantly in, the Bourbon Government
seemed almost on the point of yielding;
but three days later Mr. Nelson seat
word home that he was still unable to
collect the bill.
Just as the sixth sail showed itself on
the blue waters, King Bomba and his
Government announced that they would I
accede to the American demands. The
negotiations were closed, and interest
was guaranteed on installments. The
entire squadron remained in the bay of
Naples from Aug. 28 to Sept. 15. Then j
the ships sailed away and separated. |
Another demonstration perhaps less
imposing . than tho one just referred to,
but quite as spirited ana equally success-
ful, occurred at Smyrna in 1853, when
Captain Duncan Nathaniel Ingraham,
with a single sloop-of-war, trained his
broadsides on a fleet of Austrian war
- ships. The story was talked about last
October, when Captain Ingraham died,
but it cannot be too often repeated.
When the revolution of Hungary
against Austria was put down, Kossuth,
Koszta, and other leading revolutionists
fled to Smyrna, and tho Turkey Govern-
meat, after long negotiations, refused to
give them up. Koszta soon after came
to the United States, and in July, 1852,
declared under oath his intention of be-
coining an American citizen. .
The next year Koszta went to Smyrna
on business, where he remained for
time undisturbed. He had so inflamed
the Austrian Government against him,
however, that a plot was formed to cap¬
ture him. On June 21st, 1853, a band
of Greek mercenaries hired by the Aus¬
trian Consul, seized him in Smyrna and
carried him off to an Austrian s'nip-of-
war, the Huzzar, then lying in the har¬
bor. On board the vessel Archduke
John, brother of the Emperor, was said
to be in command. Koszta was put in
irons and treated as a criminal.
The next day an American slopc-o£-
war, the St. Louis, commanded by Cap¬
tain Ingraham, sailed into tho harbor.
Learning what had happened Captain
Ingraham immediaicly sent on board the
Kuzzar and courteously asked permission
to see Koszta. His request was granted,
and Captain Ingraham assured himself
that Koszta was entitled to the protec¬
tion of the American flag.
He demanded Koszta’s release of the
Austrian commander. When it was re¬
fused he communicated with the nearest
NO. 1.
United State* official, CoiftuI Brown,
at Constantinople. While lie was wak¬
ing for an answer six Austrian 'v?ar ship*
sailed into the harbor ancl came to
anchor in positions near thelluzzar.~0n
June 29th, before Captain Ingraham ,ha<|
received anjr'answer from the American
Consul, he noticed unusual Signs of "'ac¬
tivity on board the Huzzar, and before
long she began to get under way.
The American Captain made up hia
mind immediately. He gut the „St.
Louis straight in the IluzzarV course,
and cleared his guns for action. Tha
Huzzar hove to, and Captian Ingraham
went on board and deTnanded the itieati-
ing of the Huzzar’s action.
“We propose to sail for i;ome,” re¬
plied the Austrian. “The Consul has
ordered us to take our prisoner to Aus¬
tria.”
“You will pardon me,” said Captain
Ingraham, “but if-you attempt to leave
this port with that Atuericau on board
I shall be compelled to resort to extreme
measures.”
The Austrian glanced arouqd at.tho
fleet of Austrian war ships ant! t.hc single
American stoop-of-wav. Then fie. smiled
pleasantly, and intimated that the Huzzar
would do as she pleased.
Captain Ingraham bowed and returned
to the St. Louis, He had n if sooner
reached her deck than he called oat:
“Clear the guns for action!”
The Archduke of Austria saw the bat¬
teries of the St. LOuisturned on him,aud
he realized that ha was iu the wrong.
The Huzzar was put about and sailed
back to her old anchorage. Word' was
sent to Captain Ingraham that the.Aus¬
trian would await the arrival of the note
from Mr. Brown.
The Consul’s note,which came on Joly
1st, commended Captain Ingraham’s
course.and advised him to take whatever
action he thought the situation de¬
manded.
Captain Ingraham sent a note to the
commander of the Huzzar formally de¬
manding the release of Mr. Koszta. Un¬
less the prisoner was delivared on board
the St. Louis before 4 o’clock the next
afternoon Captain Ingraham would .taka
him from the Austrians by force. Tha
Archduke sent back a formal refusal. At
8 o’clock the next morning Captain
Ingraham once more ordered the decks
cleared for action and trained his batter¬
ies on the Huzzar. The seven Austrian
war vessels cleared their decks and put
their men at the guns.
At 10 o’clock an Austrian officer eaina
to Captain Caption Ingraham and began to tem¬
porize. Ingraham refused to
listen to him.
“To avoid the worst,” he said, “I will
agree to let the man be delivered to tha
French Consul at Smyrna until you have
opportunity to communicate with _your
Government. But ho must be delivared
there or I will take him. I have stated
the time.”
At 12 o'clock a boat left the Huzzar
with Koszta in it, and an hour later tha
French Consul sent word that Koszta was
in his keeping. Then several of tho
Austrian war vessels sailed out of tha
harbor. Long negotiations betwnenJtha
two Governments followed, and in tha
end Austria admitted that the United
States was in the right, and apologized.
It was just a year after Captain Ingra¬
ham compelled Austria to recognize tho
rights of the United States that another
occasion arose whew our Government
felt obliged to terminate negotiations by
force of arms.
WISE WORDS.
People who hope are generally people
’ a0 help,
w
A good way to learn to talk is to first
learn to listen.
Unbelief never tries to pull anybody
out of the ditch.
Backsliding seldom happens in time
of trial or adversity .
Tne boat meduune . , for , sell-conceit _ u .
to , bc wel11Dtroduccd to Jourselt.
Yhe soldier who never makes any
marches or fights is always dissatisfied.
Throwing stones and bad words at
people are both prompted by the aams
spirit.
There are two sides to every question,
put every man believes that his side is
risrht. S \
TC ” he earth ., wer V*!? r « d , with . , flowers _
aU th e ycar round, the bees would bo-
como ,
Any fool can ask questions, but it
takes somebody who knows something to
answer them,
The man who is trying to make tha
world better, is willing that it should
become worse.
People who are wrong in their think¬
ing are sure to be wrong in their walk¬
ing and talking.
if you want to find out how much
clear dog there is iu a man, find out how
he treats his wife.
It won’t do a bit of good to white¬
wash the well curb, so long as there ia
poison in the water.
Some people’s lives are like warm
water on a hot day. Nice to look at,
but one taste is enough.
Every time you find fault with a
neighbor, you are telling somebody that
the man who wears your shoes is not as
good as he ought to be.
Love never takes a sin of any kind in¬
to the house and shakes hands with it,
and gives it a welcome seat at her table,
because it is a most influential charac¬
ter and highly respectable.—Indianapo¬
lis (lad,) Ram’s Horn-