Newspaper Page Text
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Afina ®ta Fimplrfutc ■ ♦ r
J. C. HEARTSELL- Ed. and Pub.
* V
YOi, Xll.
CPi SIM
A Romance of the Civil
War.
BY MAJ. JAMES F. FITTS.
{CHAPTER IV—Continued.
“I can't stay a minute, Mrs. Baird; I've
got to ride all night. There’s trouble
coming, and I have ridden all the way
up here to give warning.”
He jerked liis thumb over his shoulder
in the direction of Knoxville. The
woman’s face became agitated.
“Soldiers?” she asked.
“Yes. Some of Harris’ cavalry. But
I managed to get twenty-four hours the
start; we'll have good time to prepare
for them. No time to waste, though: I
must find Baird and some others before
daylight. Where is he?”
The woman’s face put on a peculiar
look.
“I don’t know for sure, Mr. Brandon.
But from what I've seen going on for a
day or two. I’m pretty sure that he and
a lot more have gone up to the head of
there. Cfampton's Wally Gully, to be do for a rebel up
would sure not to tell
me much about, it till it was all over.”
“A rebel?” Brandon said. “I thought
there were none but Union iieople about
here.”
“There ain’t none—but him; and lie’s
been here only a month. Dan, here, was
how telling me since his father went away
bad they smoked the fellow out. He’s a
one; a rebel spy, they think.”
Mr. Brandon became interested.
“Have you seen him, Dan?” he asked.
“What is he like?”
“Good enough looking feller, sir; tall,
black hair, smooth face. Come up here¬
from Knoxville, they say. Goiii by here
yesterday it am} he give dropped it. dad. a letter; The I old picked
up to man
read it, an’ said sure that showed him n
reb.”
“Do you remember the namo on the
outside of the letter?”
Air. Brandon had suddenly becom*
much excited. He leaned from his sad¬
dle, and anxiously waited the lad’s ef¬
forts to recall the address.
“It was Cap’n nomi thing," he said
“ ’Rears to me the next name was Charles.
T’other one I can’t remember; nc-.vei
heard one, iiko it.”
“It wasn’t SuMHtley?’’”
“Tbht’s just what it was. Cap’n Charles
SmyaLey.;; “Great' hoavens! Mrs. Baird,” the
a< rtvman exclaimed, “is it possible that
your husband haB gone to hang that
man?”
The woman was silent and trembling.
“He has, sure,” answered young Dan.
“Why, do you know him? ’Mrs. Baird
asked, in an unsteady voice. “Ain’t, he
a rebel and a spy?”
“No —no more than I am. My God,
what an unfortunate mistake! When did
Wallace leave here?”
“An hour after sunset. It would take
him some time to get his men together,
and there was more coming from over
the Black Ridge. O, I hope you’ll gave
him, sir, if he ain’t guilty! I hate that
kind, you know how we hate ’em! but it
would be dreadful to have a man killed
that wasn't guilty; and my husband into
it, too! Oh, sir, please ride--”
But Mr. Brandon needed no incite¬
ment. He wheeled his horse and
Spurred him out to the road and. on up
the ascent. There was a long, hard ride
yet lie _.ore him, and over that difficult
way ceased not to urge the wearied
animal during those lonely and critical
hems. Wo may not accompany him up.
ou every step of that route. His
thoughts, his generous sympathies, were
now all bent upon saving the innocent
victim of the overstrained loyalty ol
these Union mountaineers, He was
tormented as he rode by doubts, and
fears; he might be too late, and then the
stain of murder would forever rest upon
these people, his friends; and he should
himself be haunted with the harrasing
recollection that he had not been able,
with every effort, to save the innocent.
There are momentous times when all
men pray; and Graham Brandon prayed
that night as he rode.
He was to be in time—just in time—
with not a moment to spare!
As he entered the gully the moon shone
out full from behind the clouds, and he
saw the trees and a group of men about
one of them. He saw a man suspended
four feet from the ground, horribly
struggling. At a wild gallop he dashed
up, the jumped from from his horse, and tearing if,
rope the hands that held
rapidly lowered the victim to the ground.
Half a dozen rifles instantly covered
him.
“Hold!” he cried. “Don’t you know
me? I’ll explain it all. Thismanisnot
a spy; he is not a rebel.”
“It’s Brandon!” Wallace Baird ex-
elaimed.
“Sure it is!” cried Hankins.
The mountaineers crowded around to
shake his hands and welcome him. He
put them aside.
“Not now, my good friends; we must
look after this poor fellow. You have
been making a terrible mistake; thank
God that I was in time!”
He knelt by the unconscious Smedley,
loosened the rope, and fanned him with
his hat. He shuddered as he saw the
livid mark about the neck. A hatful of
ley’s water was-brought sighed and dashed in Smed-
face. He and opened his
eyes. “Why, They Brandon!” rested on he his preserver.
too?” whispered. “Did
yon die,
CHAPTER V.
THE ALARM IX THE MOUNTAINS.
Graham Brandon tied his horse to a
tree, and directed the men to carry
with Smedley alacrity. into the Had cabin. latter They obeyed
the been suffi¬
ciently what revived at the about moment to notice
was been going astonished on him, he would
have at the implicit,
unquestioning obedience yielded ta
Brandon tho by the mountaineers. They
handled victim just snatched from
the gallows with an awkward but anxious
lendc-rness, and they stole furtive glances
at his preserver to see whether he wa»
angry with them. One of them fanned
Smedley, as he lay on the blankets, an-
*
SPRING PLACE, MURRAY COUNTY, GA. MAY 19, 1892.
other applied water to his head, and a
third, under the direction of Brandon,
gently pressed his chest, to aid the re¬
turn of respiration. The rescued man
soon opened his eyes again and looked
about him. From the faces of the moun¬
taineers his glance turned to that of
Brandon, and he smiled faintly.
“He’s all right?” one of the men said.
“He’s going to live.”
Brandon sat down and seemed to be
undergoing some mental convulsion. He
was strong of body and stout of heart;
but most men cannot pass through such
a tremendous experience as he had seen
in the last hour, and not be shaken by it.
Some minutes passed ere he couldspeak.
When ho had sufficiently collected
himself to talk, he looked up. Some of
the men who were not attending to
Smedley were standing before him, hat
in hap 1, waiting an opportunity to speak
to him.
“Wo hope, sir," said Wallace Baird,
“that wo haven’t offended you in what
we’ve done. You're our good friend;
you’ve proved We’re it often enough since last
spring. from countin’ on great things
you, sir, as the Wat- goes on; we can
all trust you, and every man in these
mountains that hasn’t gone to Kentuck
and West Virginia to enlist for the
Union, leaving only enough at home to
take care of our won' hi hid and little ones
time, —every to man, follow I say* X,Ufc';\fbe f, field.” be proud, any
“Thank you, Bib’ ./I hope I have de-
served this confident c.”
“That you have. sir. As to this man,
here—if you sa/l i ain’t a rebel and a
spy, looked why that settles it. But things
“You mighty suspicious badly agin him.”
hare been mistaken, Wal-
lace; it. is .hould call jin excess ol
zeal. Wh t’Uo'd him? What proof
was there aga.nst him?”
,.J5aird named the items, looked one after an-
other. Mr. Brandon at the
sketches, read the letters, laughed at the
idea that the possession of “Hardee’s
Tactics” was an evidence of sympathy
♦with the rebellion, and listened atten-
lively to what was said about Smedley’*
confession that he was a native Missis-
ville. sippian, and of his journey toward Knox-
“Well, what of it all?” he briskly said
‘Tennessee has gone out of the Union
just as much as Mississippi has-and
neither has, for good; but I really think
you men would want to fight, wouldn’t
you if anybody said that you were
rebels merely because you were Tonnes-
Beans? Wouldn’t you?”
“Here’s one that would,” said Burl
ft man who fled from his home for fear
he couldn’t keep his loyalty true, and re.
main there. Did he tell you that? And
that ico, when he’d fought'for the old flag in Mex,
he was a mere boy?”
The mountain men were silent.
“And as for his object in starting foi
Knoxville, and his reason for not going
on when so near there--I’ll tell von whaf
will make you believe all that. He
came to mo more than a month ago.
when he passed through there, coming
up here. Every man who comes intc
that place is watched, and he found
learned Harris’agents dogging him about. He
that I was a zealous but quiei
Unionist, and he came to me, telling me
precisely the same story that he told
yon.-—not for he quite did so much girl in it, to be
sure, not have to show mo the
letter—and he said he was afraid of be-
ing conscripted right there into the rebel
army. He said a good deal to me about
what he did in the Mexican war, and he
gave me his true name, just the same ns
that on the envelope, And he said that
rather than raise his hand against the
flag blood that he had suffered and shed his
hadjfbecome for, and under which the country
great, he would die twenty
times! Yes, he said it; and you can tell
how my heart warmed to him, just as I
see that yours do now, That night I got
him safely out of the city, and I did no.t
see him again till an hour ago, when I
found you fellows hanging him. Maybe
you’d like to hang me; yon might as well.
Don’t you suspect Lincoln?—he’s from
Kentucky, “Now, please you know.”
Baird cried. don’t, Mr. Brandon,”
“We're dreadful sorry foi
our blunder. We’d do anything we
could to show the gentleman how bad
we feel about it. He never told ns that
be saw you at Knoxville, and how you
helped him on.”
“It would have done no good had 1
told you,” came a feeble voice from the
blankets. “You were determined to take
my life.”
The mountaineers hung their heads
and were silent. Who shall say thai
yietion they did not suffer keenly from the con-
of the wrong they had done!
They looked awkwardly from Smedley
to Brandon, anxious to speak, but unable
to command the language in which to
utter their thoughts.
Mr. Brandon understood them, and
walked over to where the rescued man
was “Captain sitting Smedley,” up.
he said, “there are
no truer hearts for the Union, North,
South, East or West, than the men about
you, and They they have been full over-hasty with
you, are of sorrow for
what they have done. Now that they
truly know who and what you are, there
is not one of them but would give his
life to protect yon. Give them a chance
to aid you, and they would go hungry,
thirsty and sleepless in the effort. Try
them!’’
Smedley looked at his late would-be
executioners, and saw eager approval in
their faces.
“I thank you all,” he said. His voice
was returning, as well as his strength,
“We will say no more about what has
happened. I may be able to prove to
yon soon that my love forthe Union and
the flag does not stop with mere words.”
Brandon, well pleased, turned to the
men and spoke in sharp utterances
‘Attend to me now, all of vou,” he
said. “It iB no ordinary errand thai
brought me up here at this time. My
news is so important that I would noi
trust it to any messenger I could find.
Your lives, the safety of your homes,
your wives, and your children depended
upon this intelligence reaching vou
promptly. Knoxville Governor Harris’ command-
ant at has organized a cavalry
expedition to sweep and scour this part
of the Clinch Mountains. I saw them
mustering nearly five hundred in the streets. I counted
with with horsemen, all armed
guns, some sabers. I believe
I got twenty-four hours’ start, yet .with
hard riding they may-reach aplace where
they can strike at you by sunset of the
“ TELL THE TRUTH.”
day that has begun, yes, I think abslnc'e they
will strain every nerve, for my
will be noticed; they know me well,' and
it must easily be guessed where I have
gone.” effect
He paused and watched the of
his intelligence on his hearers. Ho saw
their teeth set hard and their hand,
clenched upon their gun-stooks.
“What will you do?" Mr. Brandon
asked. .*
They all looked at Wallace Baird.
termination sat upon their hardy faces,
hut they were naturally slow of speeoh
and turned all to their spokesman. sir,”
“We think alike, said Baird.
“We know how to use our arms, and
we’ve got enough of ’em, such as they
are. Some of us has been in small
brushes of already afraid since spring, and big none
us is to get into a one.
Maybe Knoxville there’s burn secesli those soldiers mountains enough 5ut, in
to
drive away the women aud children, and
’script the men for bat rebellion. before they I don’t
say there ain’t, do it,
they’ve got to fight. Yes, by mighty!-—
fight’s the word. How’s that, boys?”
A loud and prolonged eheor slipok arid _ the
roof; hats were tossed up fists
shaken in the air. Brandon sprang on
the exclaimed: box, aud, quivering with excitement,
“Glory for you, men of Clinch!^*-
you’ve heart Raid what J expected. I’m
you, fight and soul; and I’m going to
with you, too. The war is going
right on; the longerAang time comes when Union
men take can no Tkat back, but must
up arms. time has come for
me; I realize what it will mean for me
to be seen fighting among you; hut III
stand up to the consequences. Look at
this, boys, and shout for it! Remotobet
that you arc fighting for that, as well %s
for your homes and yotur families."
He drew a small flag from his breast
and waved it over his head. The shouts
broke out afresh; the mountaineers
crowded about him; they yelled, sang,
tossed up their arms and pressed their
bearded lips to the ensign of their
country. Burt Hankins felt a hand on
his shoulder. Ho looked around and
saw "Hand Smedley. it me!” he cried.
to "Ho you
distrust me? Let me kiss it. I'll fight
for it now among you as I fought for it
when I was a hoy.”
Ho was still weak, but strong arms
held him up while he saluted the fing.
Approving shouts and cries greeted >4
words and act.
“Now ,
“Baird, to business,” Mr. Brandon i
how many men can you mr.-Ty
& lt “ though^ f;
The mountaineer gave rapid
and spoke he thought: 1
as
“Somo haj* gone off and ’listed in oui
army; some nave been snapped up and
taken away by tho scoutin' secosh car.
I airy; should some forty-five are old and a few sick.
say can he reached ■*»
time.”
“Good! All armeclU
suthin' “Well, will as for that, each man has
and that’ll shoot, if it’s not the best,
kill, if it hits; and the boys
mostly Brandon know how to hit.”
before him. surveyed He the arms that were
counted four sporting
rifleB, five flint-lock muskets and three
double-barreled shotguns,
ried “Big buckshot,” said a man who car-
one of the latter, tapping the barrels
spread affectionately. like-!” “Six for a load, and they
“I think they’ll do,” rejoined Brandon,
“if the others are generally armed at
well as you seem to be. Now, Baird,
you must send these men around—yon
know how to do it, and where—and
rally Take all that can be found by noon,
my horse.”
“I’ll do it. Rally here?”
“Yes; then we’ll march and get a good
position I in think the rocks, we’d better and wait decide for the
enemy, that You on
now. know better than I
Where shall it be?”
“Down at Buzzard’s Pass, I reckon.”
“Gow’s is just as good,” ventured
Hankins.
“Neither will do. You can’t defend
either of them.”
It was Charles Smedley who spoke,
and he spoke in quick, sharp tones, as
if he were commanding, The men
looked at him in silence,
“I repeat it; those places are worthless
for defense. Each one can be flanked,
if the enemy will dismount fifty men
and pass them up the ravine below. Noi
hut only could they flank you in this way
they can gain your rear in strong
force aud drive you over the bluff into
the road. They could capture every man
who was not killed, if there force is as
large as Mr. Brandon thinks.”
“I could not be mistaken,” the latter
said. “Allowing for some scattering
and some small expeditions on the way,
they will come up here four hundred
strong.” Wallace
Both Baird and Burt Hankins
looked with a kind of awe upon Smedley.
The idea of fighting filled both of them;
hut neither had thought it necessary to
P a y an y attention to the position where
the enemy was to be met, further than to
secure a harrier against the charge of the
cavalry; been but here was a man who had
among them but a month, and who
with the eye of an experienced soldier
was able at once to seize upon the posi-
tions in the vicinity which nature had
made Btrong against attack from below,
and to discard the weak ones,
His simple reasoning went direct to
their understanding,
“What “Why, that is so,” Baird remarked,
would you advise, sir?”
“There is one spot which I know is
others; absolutely impregnable. There maybe
this one I have noticed. It is at
the elbow where the road turns into the
Little Bine Bass. The rocks there are so
steep that they can’t scale them under
fire; and those rocks command the only
which the position could bo
flanked.”
“A splendid place for a stand!” Baird
exclaimed. “Just the spot. My houso
is not far below.”
“Yes,” replied Smedfey. “I’d advise
you to drive your stock up, and bring in
your wife and children.”
The mountaineer understood him, and
anguish filled his face.
other “My God, sir,” he that?” said, “ain’t there no
“None place below
where fifty men on foot can
fight a hundred cavalry. I regret it, for
your sake; but so it is.”
“Let it bo so, then,” said Baird, and
his face became hard and heroic.
“You’ve heard all this, boys,” said Mr.
Hraiidon, “and you see that a skillful
leader is just as great a thing in these
mountains as anywhere else. I propose
Charles Smedley for our Captain.”
A shout of acquiescence greeted the
proposition. Smedley’s pale face glowed
with indeed, pride. He had his revenge, a noble
one, for the late occurrences.
He lifted 'up a hoard of the floor and
took out a leathern 'case, unbuckling
which he produced a handsome infantry
sword and beR.
“Yon see that I am what I pretend to
he,” he said. “Never shall X part with
that weapon and its belongings, nor
could money buy them. They were the
gift of Gen. Scott himself for my part
in the work at Monterey. You have
confidence in me now; I will lead you.”
Mr. Brandon looked at his watch; it
was 2 o’clock. Wallace Bail’d,gave some
directions to bis companions, and they
all left the hut and scattered in different
directions.
Charles Smedley and his rescuer were
alone together.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
Select Siftings.
Any Neutral kind of courage is desirable.
men are the devil's allies. «
A great, strong heart is never over-
eome.
Ostentation is the signal flag of hy¬
pocrisy. Hypocrisy *
and knavery are Siamese
twins.
Misfortune is one thing—impudence
another.
An egg to-day is better than a hen
to-morrow.
Buy low, sell fair, and take care of
the profits.
achievement. Disappointment is the school of
Risk anything before you risk your
reputation.
Shrink from your task and you will
he despised
RELIABLE RECIPES.
celery with Brows Sauce.— After
washing and scraping the celery, cat it
info bits nn inch long and stew it in
salted broth or stock for half an hour
Fry brown, a tahlespoonful of but ter to a darke-
then stir into it until smooth V
tablesnoOnful of flour i.Jr and ^ th«n nd W 1 ! ir
f u i| U\ v aeunofti,« a cup ot the broth m • which the celery
was boiled; put the drained celery into
a hot dish, pour the gravy over and serve.
, *•*—
1 maiket nearly all the year round, bo-
covered up m winter to keep it from
weather, freezing; and it is only in extremely cold
when it is impossible to cut it,
that it ever becomes source and expen-
*ive. There is no vegetable in all the
lists that depends so much upon tho care
ox fan cock In trying it aaapinuch. If
it is simnlv nut in jU,
and ..-J all and hoilod rapidly for half u an
t ul “ u becomes rank,
; a coarse green,
wduch , must be drowned in vinegar
in the old country way to make
it palatable. Properly blanched and
properly boiled, few vegetables are more
delicious and delicate and more suitably
Borvod with delicate meats. The process
of reheating it, after it lias been blanched
and cooled, improves tho flavor decided¬
ly, and cold spinach may be reheated
several times and lose nothing in the
process: A story is told of Brillat Sava-
him rin having a dish of spinach served to
which had been rebooted nine times;
lie found it so improved by the process
that he declared spinach required nine re¬
heatings to bring it to perfection.
A novice in cooking is often confused
when spinach is brought from the nuir-
kot to bo prepared, and she does not
know what to do with it. It is necessary
at first to have abundance of water.
There should be a large wushtub of
water to wash a peck of spinach. Look
over tho spinach, piece by piece. Break
off the leaves. Throw away the stalks
and all withered or yellow leaves. Have
a pan of water ready aud wash each
handful by itself. Then throw it iu the
tub of water. When all tho spinach is
looked over and thrown into tho tub
remove it with tho hands to
a pan, and after this let the water run
out of the tub. By this process the sand
sinks from the spin ich to the bottom of
tho tub. If tho spinach is very gritty it
may be necessary to wash it several
times, as few things are more disagree-
tvble than sand in any cooke I dish. To
blanch spinach, throw a peck of it, as
soon as it is washed, into abundance of
fifteen boiling wator, and lot it boil rapidly for
minutes. Diain it in a colander,
and set it in a pan of cold water to be¬
come spread thoroughly cooled. It is very nice
out on a board, chopped, returned
to a saucepan, and warmed up with
three tablespoonfuls of rich cream, and
salt and pepper sufficient to season it.
Decorate the spinach with slices of hard-
boiled eggs or with thin strips of bread
delicately browned. Spinach is also ex¬
cellent when warmed up with half a cup¬
ful of rich veal gravy or veal stock, A
tablespoonful of butter should ho added
with salt if necessary. Decorate the
dish with narrow strips of bread, fried a
delicate brown in butter, Do not allow
tho cold spinach to be thrown it way, re¬
membering that it becomos betier and
better by reheating.
A Fvzaiud Hindu who had been out-
casted for the offence of eating cooked
food in a railway train while there were
persons of other castes in the same caste.’ car
ri ,® with him has been restored to
, r ® Mlhough j not Y a
wealthy , ,,, j mun, had sufficient \ means to
cost purification, lie pay
or was first
weighed and in after rice, and valued at' 180 ru-
pees, that in wheat. After tho
weighing ho was made to sit on a square
stone and his body was covered with dirt
tho faeo only executed' he was then
taken th! Xl? ui> bv two Z, men ! «nd 'Tk thrown !l V
and r 11 , good bath ho camo
out . and . received b.' the Brahmins,
was
tu ‘v restored to casts fellowship. The
Brahmins informed the purified individ-
ual that a great favor had been conferred
on him in weighing him in copper instead
of silver.
Ike suckers are planted in _ rows three
feet apart either way during the rainy
season in August, and during June and
July the crops are harvested. The pine-
apples are cut off close to the main stalk
with a sharp knife,and the thick pointed
leaves are trimmed so that the fruit can
be packed easily. They are generolly
packed in barrels, from twenty-five to
tnirty “extras” in a barrel, or forty to
sixty small ones. Almost any kind of
barrel will answer the purpose, but the
large sugar-barrels are the best, as they
do not cost any more for transportation.
After the pines begin to come into the
market the supply is steady, although
some dealers attempt to hold back their
fruit until the bulk is disposed of.
Florida cannot compete iu the eariy
market, for the Cuban pines are always
ahead of her, but she is gradually mo¬
nopolizing the trade in June and July.
When the rapid increase in the cultiva¬
tion of the fruit, Florida will in time
supply all of the home trade, driving
out the imported fruits.—New York
Post.
The only gold fish-hooks ever found
were oi the virgin metal, and were taken
from a grave in New Grenada.
SI.OO a Year in Advanet
PINEAPPLES IN FLORIDA.
A TROPIC FRUIT NOW LARGELY
CULTIVATED IN THAT STATE.
Facts About tho Pineapple Industry
—The “Pines” Are Propagated in
Three Ways.
o WING pineapple considered South these to the cultivation fruits luxuries, rapid are growth no in North¬ longer the of
erners using them in the summer as they
would their native products. The pine¬
apple season begins in February, when
the first foreign shipments are made,
and from that time until the last of
August nearly 5,000,000 “pines” are
disposed of i,n the United States. On
the Island of Cuba the fruits ripen earlier
than elsewhere, and growers there eon-
trol the markets until tho first week in
May, when the Florida and Bahama
pineapples begin to arrive. Later smaller
Shipments are made from Central
America, but these never reach very high
figures. All of the fruit is shipped
direct to New York, and half-a-dozen
large dealers in that city practically con¬
trol the trade. On the arrival of the
fruit it is bought up by them in bulk,
and the prices are fixed according to the
condition generally of the sorted market. Pineapples
are over at first and
divided into three lots, “extras,” No. 1
and No. 2.
The spring of the year is the time to
inspect the pineapple-fields where the
fruits are just reaching maturity, for at
such times one may expect to find inter¬
esting sights if ever. When the “pines”
begin to mature in Florida, the oranges
and grape-fruit have long since been
gathered, and blossoms are ou the trees
for next season’s crop. The bananas
have also been picked, and the stalks
have been cut down, or “pruned,” as the
work would be called in the North.
Along the Indian River and Key West
pineapple culture has become a leading
industry, and thousands of the fruits are
annually gathered for the home markets.
Tho climate near Key West, and in the
southern tier of counties is about the
Eame as in tho Bahamas, aud the sandy
soil is thoroughly adopted to the culti¬
vation of the “pines.” Tho fruits are
planted, and they take care of them¬
selves with hut little outside attention.
The plants are largely air-plants, and
they greatly resemble in appearance the
“air-pines” which grow so thickly upon
the tall cypress trees of the Florida
I fimmocks. In fact, the pineapple was
originally propagated and developed
from these so-called “air pines,” which
many visitors in the South carry home
with them, and which, if nailed upon
the side of the house and barn, will live
upon air and water for an indefinite
time.
Pineapples are propagated in three
ways—from the “crowns,” “suckers”
or “slips,” which, though used by some
writers as one and the same, are very
different. The crowns grow on the top
of the fruit, the slips start out beneath
the base of the fruit at its junction with
the stem, and the suckers rise from the
stem at the junction with the root.
Taken altogether, about ten suckers,
slips and crowns can be obtained from
one plant, and these are sold at the rate
of a few dollars per thousand. From a
five-acre plantation another plantation
several times larger can be planted in one
season . This rapid method of propa- j ,
gating the plants make the industry com - !
paratively easy of extension. Nearly all 1
the planters put out new fields every
year, provided they have the land at
hand, but most of the best pineapple soil
in favorable localities has been pur¬
chased and the price advanced.
From 10,000 to 15,000 pineapples can
be planted to the acre, and in from
eighteen months to two years after plant¬
ing the slips the plants produce Iruit,
The plants need little cultivation after
the suckers have once set, but the top
soil requires a little stirring in order to
prevent too rapid evaporation of the
moisture. Every sucker, slip, or crown,
if properly matured, will produce one
fine pineapple, and each grower expects to
realize five cents apiece for the fruit after
transportation rates, cost of package,and
commissions have been deducted. This
means $500 per acre, but some of the
choicest varieties sell for much higher
prices, so that from $700 to $1000 is
realized.
The Orang-Outang Out for a Stroll.
It is a most interesting sight to watch
an orang-outang make its way through
the jungle. It walks slowly along the
larger branches iu a senfi-erect attitude,
this being apparently caused by the
length of its arms and the shortness of
its legs. It invariably selects those
branches which intermingle with those
of a neighboring tree, on approaching
which it stretches out its long arms, and,
grasping the boughs opposite, seems first
to shake at if to test their strength, and
then deliberately swings itself across ta
the next branch, which it walks along as
before. It does not jump or spring aa
monkeys usually do, and never appears
to hurry itself unless somo real danger
presents. Yet in spite of its apparently
slow movements it gets along far quicker
than a person coula running through the
forest beneath.
The habits and customs of this animal
are peculiarly interesting. In appear¬
ance it is not at all unlike a man, tkui
illustrating Darwin’s theory that tb«
races of human beings are descended
from apes. Its hands and feet are formed
exactly like those of a human being,
from the shape of the Dails to the fingers
themselves, and its face resembles that of
an exceedingly ugly and hairy man. Its
strength is enormous, and when attacked
it is extremely dangerous and fierce.
Various stories are told about its huge
dimensions and great height, but I have
never seen one over four feet high from
head to heel, and from seven to eight
feet, measuring from finger to finger
across its outstreetked arms, the width
of the face varying in measurement from
eight to twelve inches, though the ac-
counts of larger animals having been met
vvith may be correct.—San Francisco
Chronicle,
How Mines Are Salted.
The gullibility of persons who buy
mines has passed into a proverb. It is
said that such properties have actually
been salted with half-melted silver dol.
lars and sold to investors who did not
realize that the precious metal was not
found in nature vvith the stamp of tha
mint upon it. Undoubtedly the most
scientific method of accomplishing this
sort of swindle is to apply the silver iu
the shape of a nitrate solution. When
it is ready for use some salt is put into
it audit is squirted over the rock, the
salt causing an immediate precipitation
of the metal in a manner that is equally
conspicuous and deceptive to the eye.—
Washington Star. •4
NO. 11.
SELECT SIFTINCS. - '% j
Mollusks dwell in shells of all shape) X
and colors. The costly royal purple ol
the ancients came from one of thes*
i shells.
Millcdgcville. Ga., lias a lunatic whose
years correspond with his weight. His
age is fifty-two, and he weighs fifty-two
pounds.
Hackney coaches were forbidden dur¬
ing the reign of Charles H., on the
ground that they destroyed the King’s
highway.
A cocoon of a well fed siljc worm will j
often and yield has a been thread produced 1000 yards which long, (
one con-
taiued 1295 yards.
The lowest temperature ever registered j I
by the thermometer in England was at
Kelso in 1879, when the mercury fell tej
sixteen below zero.
The first daily newspaper appeared if
1702. The first newspaper printed it
the United States was published in Bol¬
ton in September 25, 1790.
A locomotive on the Reading Road
in thirty-nine Pennsylvania and recently made a mi&fin
onc-fourth seconds,draw¬
ing four passenger coache*.
A Philadelphian lias educated a house
fly to respond to a prolonged “buz-z-z,”
which brings it from it?s cranny any time
of day for its supply of sugar.
For every mother killed; an .- f.
•
seal the species dies also; that for nomothci>w!iTl it is a pecujiW',
n ur
infant but its own, an3 will let t
serted seal pups die.
A lex*, niter Hamilton surpasse
opponent, Jefferson, iu earlyv
meat.. He was a member of Cong Pregi^fl uHSjj
twenty-five and a member of
Washington’s Cabinet at thirty-two.
See.ng a runaway horse dragging a ,
little _ boy by the feet along the road, a -
nervy 1 Hastings {Neb ) §ir! took a hasty
aim with a rifle she had with her and \
killed the horse, thus saving tho boy’s
life.
Ou different farms iu Charles County,
Mil., three colored men died about the
same time from paralysis. They were
all engaged in stripping tobacco, and ■
without any previous sympto ms were
stricken down, and died within a few
hours of each other. »
A favorite food fish in Japan is the
tai. It contains two bones, which the
Japanese call, from their shape, the hoe
and sickle. When eating the fish a
mother will tell her children, “Now
wait, until I get yen the hj&j and sickle,’j*
and the children use them as playthings.
A Germantown (Penn.) jeweler and
watchmaker has a curiosity iu the shape
of a Plymouth Rock hen that has been
surprising her owner aud some of the
neighbors for some time past by laying
eggs of varied patterns. Her latest ef¬
fort was one that closely resembles a
grub, even <o tho form of the head. It
is about three inches in length aud of • •
perfectly white color.