Newspaper Page Text
V /
SPRING PLACE JIMPLEQUTE t
J. O. HEARTSELL, Ed. and PuL.
VOL XIV.
New York owns one-fourth of the
commercial shipping of the United
States.
In time of war France is prepared to
put 370 out of every 1000 of her pop¬
ulation in the held; Germany, 310;
Russia, 210.
The American Humane Society has
offered $1000 to the first leading
American college or university which
shall establish a professorship of social
science and humanity.
*
Under a new French Jaw cyclists are
compelled to have affixed to their
machines a metal plate bearing their
name and address, so that the identity
of the rider may be established in ease
of an infringement of regulations.
Three of the Protestant Episcopal
dioceses ol New York State have mole
than 1,000,000 inhabitants each, and
one of the three, the diocese of New
York, has more than 2,000,000. The
dioceBe of Long Island is the most
densely populated. It has an area of
about 1400 square miles, and a popu¬
lation of more than 1,000,000. The
diocese of New York has an area of
about 5000 square miles, with a popu¬
lation exceeding 2,000,000.
The growth of great cities in the
United States, and the remarkable
tendency of the American people to
flock to the cities, have recently be¬
come a subject of study. It is revealed
by the census, notes the New Orleans
Picayune, that in 1790 but three per
cent, of the people of this, country
lived-in towns of more than 5000 in¬
habitants. In 1840 only • eight per
cent, so lived. In 1880 there were
twenty-two per cent, of the popula¬
tion in cities, and in'1890 more than
one-fourth of the population of the
United States had become city resi¬
dents.
Modelling in clay, which was a
popular fad in many schools two or
three years ago, has been generally
abandoned. Jt was found, explains
the Boston Cultivator, that where
large numbers of children, each after
the other, handled the same clay, the
skin diseases affecting one were com¬
municated to all. There is really no
instruction in art gained by teachers
amusing their pupils in this way.
The younger scholars like it, but it is
better to let them find their amuse¬
ment in the mud pies, which they will
make without any instruction. That
kind of play may not be good for the
clothes, but it never injured health.
President George Post, of the Arch¬
itectural League, at a meeting held at
New York surprised the members by
advocating the passage of a law against
the erection of sky-scraping build¬
ings, which, he said, made the street
the hot-bed of malaria and were iu
themselves eye sores. Ho admitted
being the architect who planned one
of New York’s sky-scrapers, but he
was opposed to high buildings and
would sacrifice the extra dollars made
by them for the sake of artistic and
hygienic principles. The sentiments
so expressed were applauded, and a
committee was appointed to draft a
bill for presentation to the Legislature
for the prevention of the erection of
such high structures in the future.
Says Harper’s Weekly: “State aid
to localities for any purpose is, of
course, open to grave objections. It
should be seldom vouchsafed, and
never except in exigent cases; but,
after years of agitation, good roads iu
New York have slim prospects save as
the State assists them. Massachusetts
has found that State aid and super¬
vision are the only feasible methods.
New York will find the same, unless
present signs are defective. Certainly
if time be a factor in the problem—if
good roads are soon to be begun—
State aid must be given. While the
press has been almost a unit in their
behalf, the highest economic authori¬
ties have approved them, and the
splendid highways of the Old World
have been constant object lessons to
the New, comparatively little has here
been accomplished. There has been
much agitation, with small results.
The argument is concluded. Action
should ensue; and under the circum¬
stances—the need of prompt, compre¬
hensive and intelligent action—the
proposition for State aid is entitled to
consideration.
SPRING PLACE, MURRAY COUNTY, GA. SATURDAY. APRIL 28, 1894
THE MAN TO KNOW.
Young man, the boobs will bid you teed
The seers from Kant to Plato,
Bnt get acquainted with yourself;
You are no small potato.
And though you swing a blacksmith's
sledge
Or dig within the trenches.
Bold up your head with those that sit
Upon the highest benches.
Oh, read the sages of the world
And let their wisdom win you ,
But get acquainted with yourself
And find what you’ve got in you. .
In modest arrogance of sou!
Make your own valuation ;
Then slowly make the sluggard world ».
Accept your estimation.
Go, get acquainted with yourself
Before your loaf is yellow;
You’ll find the man beneath your hat
Is sometbirg of a fellow.
Then stir him out and prod him up
Before his force has fainted.
Go, get acquainted with yourself;
Then make the world acquainted.
Then trust the man beneath your hat.
And when you come to know him
You’ll find a fellow fit to graoe
A novel or a poem.
Go, got acquainted with yourself;
You'll find that very few are,
For tasks for which you were designed,
A better man than your are.
Young man, the books will bid you rend
The seers from Kant to Plato,
But get acquainted with yourself;
YOu are no small potato.
—Sato Walter Foss, in Boston Globe.
AN UNHEEDED WARNING
/ Vt HE press midday was speed¬ ex¬
ing fast to the
a north of Eng¬
land. In a certain
first-class e o m
j partment in the
front part of the
train sat young
Eric Vyvyan, Rnd
in the corner, op¬
posite him, his pretty girlish
wife. By dint of pressing a bribe,
in the form of a large silver coin,
into the guard’s greedy palm, they
had secured the carriage to them¬
selves, and were passing the time by
playing “Halma.” This—under any
circumstances—aggravating made doubly game was
trying to the temper by
the continued jojt, jolt of the train,
thereby shaking all the poor little red
and green men out of tbeir rightful
standing places.
“Ah! that’s hard luck”—this from
Eric, as his wife landed one of her men
on the opposite side of the board by
jumping over the heads of his red
ones. “What a duffer lam, to be
sure, not to have seen that open gap!
This game is too clever for me, by
Jove. Have a tussle at chess, Gwen—
I’ll beat you in that, anyhow.”
But Gwennie’s laughing answer was
drowned in one long, shrill, deafening
shriek from the engine, then a fearful
bump, causing the train to stop sud¬
denly, and a noise of crashing and
splintering of timber, distant at first,
then louder and nearer. Eric rushed
frantically to the door, but—oh, hor¬
ror !—it was locked—perhaps the other
side would yield—when something
seemed to drag him back—his legs felt
tied—was he paralyzed?
He was struggling desperately to re¬
gain the use of his legs, which had
grown into two heavy, useless weights,
when the carriage gave a sudden lurch
to one side, throwing him down alto¬
gether. There was an agonized scream
from Gwennie, then total darkness.
Eric made frantic efforts to save his
wife, but he lost her in the darkness,
and felt powerless to stop himself slid¬
ing down underground—down into
the damp earth—-down into darkness
blacker than night—darkness that
could be felt. It was suffocating; he
could not breathe.
Another second and he must reach
the bottom and his brains be dashed
out; but better anything than this
dark, giddy descent, when the sound
of splintering timber, mingled with
the cries of women and children, broke
again on his ears, faintly at first, then
louder and louder, till with deafening
nearness, as though a thousand giants
were hammering the wretched train
to shivers close to his ears. His head
must surely burst with the noise, but
suddenly his eyes opened, and-- It
was only a dream after all, for he was
safe in his own bed, though his head
was still aching and his heart beating
with lond thumps.
The hot rolls and various savory lit¬
tle breakfast dishes were rapidly grow¬
ing cold, in spite of their shining eov
ers. Breakfast had been on the table
half an hour—for the gold hands of
the “grandfather” clock in the corner
of the cozy dining-room pointed to
three minutes to ten.
Mrs. Vyvyan, with a slightly impa¬
tient expression in her deep blue eyes,
was standing by the window, idly
watching the rain pattering down,
splashing into the already overflowing
gutter and swelling the black puddles
in the middle of the road below.
She had read the Morning Post, and
all the items of news she cared about
in the Times (her husband’s special
newspaper), and bad begun to wonder
when Eric would come down, and
whether the effort of dressing on this
“TELL THE TRUTH.”
relaxing October morning had proved
too great an exertion for him.
It was unusual for Eric to be so
late, for he had generally made his
appearance some time before the 9.30
breakfast gong had sounded.
In a minute or so, however, Gwennie
heard his dressing-room door open
hastily ; then the refrain of “Love’s
Own Sweet Song” whistled gayly, and
in another half-second Eric was in
room.
“Am I desperately late? Awfully
sorry. Oh! but I don’t believe that
clock. Some maliciously disposed per
sou has moved on the hands at least a
quarter of an hour”—laughing. “Bnt
Gwen, darling!”—more seriously—
‘ ‘you should not have waited all this
time for me. Anything interesting
—going to the hall as he spoke and
unlocking the letter box. “All
me, and all business”—turning over
four or five official looking envelopes,
addressed mostly in clear,
like characters to “Eric C. Vyvyan,
Esq., 7 Chesliam street,. Belgravia, S.
W.”
‘ ‘I expected a letter from Hetty to
tell me when her baby’s christening is ;
to take place,” said Gwenuie; “but
they want us to go’ there befbre the
end of tho month, so I suppose we had
better fix some day next week, had we
not, Rick, dear ?” * if.
-
“Well, I suppose I must, be resigned
to fate, though I know some one that
never gives her poor, henpecked hus¬
band a chance of saying ‘nay’ to any¬
thing.”
“Oh! Rick; and you know you saicj;
you would like to go, and.that yon are
looking forward to some hunting.”
Then, laughing merrily aa she caught
a twinkle in Eric’s, eye : “How shall I
.ever live out a long life with such a
dreadful tease as you! Really, though,
I think it will be lovely at Daleford
this weather; Hetty says all their vio¬
lets arc growing beautifully out pi
doors, and she does not think we shall
■ppp......I find it as cold as we did last yffar-T
they have lmd hot water pipes laid all
over the house. ”
But Erie did not answer, and Gwen
niesaw a thoughtful expression on his
handsome, expressive face; then she
guessed that (though .only joking just
now) he really did not care about this
promised visit. Perhaps he does not
want to be disturbed now lie has only
just returned to town, and has begun
writing his new book, too, thought
Gwennie. Yet it was characteristic of i
Eric that he could write, better an.'
more easily when bo" Wits Hi ft Siraiige"
place and saw fresh scenery and fresh
life around him.
“His brains got to want oiling—his
thoughts would uot run smoothly when
he stayed long in one place, "he always
said. So it was they never settled
down for more than three months with¬
out change, much as they both liked
their pretty, cosy house in the most
fashionable part of Belgravia,
Indeed, Eric’s most successful work
had been written during their travels
abroad at a time when he could only
manage to squeeze out odd half hours
at a time for writing, so busy were
they sight seeing aud exploring Spain.
Perhaps, after all, Eric was lazy,
Gwennie thought; again, most men
disliked country house visiting, and
looked on it as a bore, she knew, but
he would enjoy it when they got there.
The Yyvyans had already stayed at
Daleford twice since their marriage,
and Hettie Townley and Gwennie had
been great friends all their life. Hettie
was married about two years and a
half ago to the son of a wealthy country
squire in the north of England ; after
her marriage she introduced Gwennie
to young Vyvyan, a friend of her hus¬
band’s, and tho introduction had turned
out to be a case of mutual love at first
sight.
Eric was in his study prepared for
an undisturbed morning at his writing,
when the butler came in with a tele
gram.
“Come to-morrow, if possible, chris¬
tening Saturday, wire reply,” ran the
message.
Erie had no more peace of mind that
morning, for Gwennie was quite ex¬
cited at the thought of seeing her
friend again so soon, and said she
could easily get ready to go to-morrow.
And that terrible dream last night
returned to Eric’s mind with horrible
vividness. They must start for Dale¬
ford to-morrow to be there in time for
the christening on Saturday.
To-morrow, Friday, October 13,
was that meant as a warning, too?
But no—and he quickly thrust aside
those superstitious thoughts, One
day in the week was as good as an¬
other, and as for taking dreams into
everyday wakeful life and dwelling on
the horrors, it was absurd; no sane
man would put off his engagement,
however trivial, for the sake of a
grotesque nightmare, Dreams had
never any connection with the future.
“Men dwelt too much on dreams and
such like things in this age of sup¬
posed enlightenment, and the world
was growing more morbid everyday,”
he had told the reading public iu one
of his works.
Yet, reason as he would this morn¬
ing, he was unable to shake off a sort
of ‘'uncanny” feeling, and something
seemed to whisper that this dream
was sent to him as a warning.
The next morning Erie was not in
his usual spirits, and instead of his
bright laugh and clever talk he was
almost silent. The terrible railway
'incident, with all its dreadful details,
i ad come before him in his ‘sleep
gain last night. This time, however,
he had felt it was a dream only, yet
y.oqld not awake himself before" came
I he horrible climax—and instead of
forgetting fight bronght it all it thism before orbing, his the day
mind’s eye
leaily and distinctly.
“Did yon sleep well last night,
Rick?” said Gwennie, at last.
• “Yes, too well; '! hifd nightmare
with all its attendant horrors, and
liave rather, a bad. headache in cou
fcequenee.” '
“Oh! 1 am so sorry. I thought you
had one of your headaches, y.ou must
have been working- too hard; bnt
-urely it will make it worse to travel
Sill that yajr. Shall we not go to-day,
after all?” j\nd, as Eric was 'Bilent,
went on: '“I don’t, care much
about the christening, really; Rick,
dear; let’s send. Hettie a telegram,
will know it is apt on purpose if,
we are not there to-morrow,” “
For one second Erie felt inolufed to
give way to his presentiment— theiW people'
why should so many foolish
be disappointed" just because he had a
foolish fad?—passed through his mind
—who but a fool would , put off a
and long engagement for'the
sake of a dream?
“No, no, Gwen,” he said quickly,
‘ ‘I shall be all right, darling, when we
leave Brnoky London far behind us. ”
• Gwennie brightened again at this,
HJid agreed that if was depressing in
town this muggy, wet weather.
“Shall we take Halma or Keverslu
with us in the train? But no, I will
leave out the chess board, and then
you will give me some more lessons,”
she cried, making hasty preparations
for their journey, and in less than an
hour they were rattling down to Eus
ton station.
*‘Terrible railway accident. Fatal
collision between two trains on the
Great Northern line. Thirty-five per¬
sons, killed. Many injured,” These
words, which headed a column in all
the daily papers on Saturday morning,
October 14, threw many families in the
United Kingdom into sudden deep
sorrow and consternation,
The paragraph went on to oxplaiu
the cause of the aooident, and howthe
front part of both trains had been
completely and' shattered into splinters,
the shook of the collision had
thrown the down train off the line—
the steep embankment, so that
pasrttmgeTS in the-bivele-cavviagoa. Wl
no means of escape either, and very
few were those who had been saved
from instant death in the ill-fated
train. All the travelers in the up train
were also more or less mortally in¬
jured, if not killed outright on that
fatal Friday.
Four and a half years had passed,
and*the railway accident was forgotten
by most people ; still there were a few
who could never forget the sad occur¬
rence that had blighted their lives,
anil Eric Vyvyan was one. His was
too deep a heart wound ever to heal
entirely in this world. He was just
now staying at Daleford. It was
July, and the Townleys had a garden
party, at which all the cream of Dale¬
ford society was congregated that hot
afternoon.
On a rustic seat at the far end of
the large sloping lawn sat four young
ladies, and, standing in groups of
threes and fours, were eight or nine
others—some pretty and chick look¬
ing, others plain and dowdy; some
were bashful looking debutantes, but
others very much “out” and self
possessed looking—a group such as
you will always see in any large gather¬
ing of this kind in the country.
“Who is that very cross-looking
man sitting near the band?" This in
a stage whisper from the fairest maiden
in the group,
■ • Who do you mean?" answered her
companion on the seat. “That dark
man talking to Mrs. Barker?”
“No, no, not that one,” in a voice of
scorn from the speaker; “that’s a friend
the Carthew’s brought with them this
afternoon. I mean that handsome,
fair man, standing up near the yew
tree there by himself. ”
“Oh! he is a friend staying with
the Townleys—Vyvyan, I believe, his
name is,” broke in another voice.
“He looks as though he thought the
whole affair an awful bore, ” remarked
another.
“I don’t think he is handsome—
nasty face, he lias.”
“No; I don’t think he is, either.
At least—that is-- he would be if he
only did not look so cross and sar¬
castic. ”
“1 am quite sure he is a horrid
man” (this from another critic).
“Why should he not make himself
pleasant, and not stand alone picking
everyone to pieces with his eyes? I
hate that sort of men; but let’s walk
round the grounds.” Aud the speaker
walked off, the rest following suit.
Thus is our appearance and even our
character judged’by utter strangers in
this hard-hearted, prosaic world. Gen¬
erally wrong, however, is their ver¬
dict concerning our character.
And now the hostess was walking
around the kitchen garden. An elder¬
ly gentleman with white hair and a
kind, intlelligent face was with her.
They spoke softly, but scraps of con¬
versation in the lady’s voice could be
overheard.
“Yes, it is very sad, poor fellow.
SI.OO a Year\in Advance.
■
■So kind hearted he is, though quite a
changed man."
(An indistinct murmur from the
gentleman.)
“Oh, he was very ill for nearly
seyen months. He was found quite
unconscious under the debris of^iCe
'wrecked train, with his artn rorthd his
wife. She was killed on, the spot. So
pretty, she was,' with real yellow, gold
hair, and so liice^ tod. Dear, dear
voice
grgSv koft,.and couple, her' and eyesfeisty. only mairied k“Sueh
•l young a
year and a half;. but'Erie told me has
never really .lived a moment of his
life since he lost'His wife. He says he
feels so old now. Hut don't tails: abput
your’favdrita-subject—namely —before him/ I told fleams
you his sad story
because I know it would interest you,
as ’/on believe in Bitch things ;■ but,
though, of course, be can never forget
jt himself, he can’t bear to think that
others 'should .Jsfiow anything about
his unheeded warning. —Sala’s. Joist r
c
■
WT \ Trained Saw.
There * time
a when, in
circles in our country, it was regarded
as quite lin important, part of a wo¬
man’s education that she should know
something of 1;he proper care of the
sick. To be a, gbod nurse was to- win
respect, and this qualification .watr
often thought to counterbalance defi¬
ciency in other respects. But the
times ehanged. The art of nursing,
which was almost an inheritance in
some families, ‘ and sedulously culti¬
vated in others, fell in disuse. It was
no longer rated so high among feminine
accomplishments. In fact, there was
a disposition to class the art of nursing
with various other old-time employ¬
ments for women, such as spinning
and weaving.
Again the times ehanged, and the
professional nurse appeared. Not,
indeed, as a new official, for she had
long been in existence, Hut she began
to be popular, the community recog¬
nized her value and she found her
Held. No one can study the progress
made in the past twenty-five years in
tho training of nurses without being
amazed at the scope of their education
and at the splendid results already
achieved. A woman graduating from
some of the nurses’ schools in this
country knows as much to-day about
anatomy and physiology, materia
medica and surgerjyand such branches
of knowledge as many a physician did
ft tty ytsars wgT j wndfj? the) training -bo
then received. It is not astonishing
that women thus fitted for their work
should find plenty of it to do. The
demand for trained nurses is to-day
far in advance of the supply and the
pay is certainly liberal. The nurse’s
vocation opens u wide field of useful¬
ness for women were all the kindly
impulses of their nature find abundant
gratification, and where they can
honestly believe that they are not
working in vain.—Boston Herald.
Hours of Dining.
The hours of dining and the time of
retiring at night have, it would ap¬
pear, been undergoing a constant
change in England as well as in other
countries in the course of the last few
hundred years. The fashionables of
Edward IV. ’a court rose with the lark,
despatched their dinner at 11 o’clock,
and shortly after 8 were wrapped in
slumber. In the Northumberland
House Book for 1512 it is set forth
that the family rose at 6 iu the morn¬
ing, breakfasted at 7, dinod at 10 aud
supped at 4 in the afternoon. The
gates wore all shut at 9, and no further
ingress or egress permitted. In 1570,
at the University of Oxford, it was
usual to dine at 11 o’clock and sup at
5 in the afternoon. The dinner hour,
which was ouce so early as 10 o’clock,
has gradually got later aud later, un¬
til now it would be thdhgh the excess
of vulgarity in the fashionable world
to sit down to table earlier than 6.30
o’clock, while others extend it to 9 or
10.—New York Bun.
The Cause of the Conflagration.
One of the rooms on the second floor
of a house was discovered the other
day to be on fire. The flames were,
however, happily extinguished before
any great mischief had been done, but
a special interest is attached to the
origin of the fire. It appears that the
day had been a very bright one, and
the sub’s rays, condensed by passing
through a water-bottle, had set fire to
a mackintosh hanging on the wall, and
this in turn had ignited tho bedding
immediately below. At first it was
supposed that one of the inmates had
set fire to the plaoe, but the cause was
clearly demonstrated by actual ex¬
periment. It is not the first time that
similar accidents have taken place,
and though for some months to oome
the sun’s rays are not likely to be
fieroe enough to do much mischief,
the event should be remembered as
indicating a possible danger, in sum¬
mer time especially.—Worthington’s
Magazine.
Original and Bizarre.
Mr. Frederick Gebhard’s wedding
gift to his bride—a silver bath tub
made of 3200 ounces of pure silver,
worth ns mere bullion $2650, and
valued as a finished product of the
silversmith’s art at $5156—is at once
original aud bizarre.—New York Re
carder.
NOT 8
T7!
| TAKE A- DAY OFF.
Whoa you see the hills away off
Hookin' green an* gold an’ Mae,
It is time to take day off v f
a
With the daisies an’thedw.
Don’t you wish.
Fgr Wti»A a fish,
the trees are gptn’ “swish P»
Wlisb you hear the birds a-stngiu’
1 the cattle-bells a-ringin’,
*«* the honeysuckles swingin'—
'
W lton PAMBisheadlfi’Mayoff,-' -"
. .
v - WttharumDleinhisourtei,,. v
It is time to take a-day off,
Huntin’ violets with the-girls.
Dealt you pme . v: ';
' For the shin#
■
'■ or the toeadaws fair as
• : For the iillie.5 rills a-fiOwin’,
For the woods with blossoms Mowin’,'
For the world, with beauty giowla’-—
Do’n t you pine? :
—T. -L, Stanton, in Atlanta Constitution. •
PITH AND POINT.
7ou seldom got cold fkets in a
heated argument. —Elmira Gazette.
I fear I am going into a decline, re*.
marked the poet, as he entered the
editorial sanctum.—Truth.
The yell a man sets up when he
treads on a tack is one of the worst
forms of foot-bawl.—Truth.
“This rich relative of yours, is he a
distant relative?” “Yes, extremely dis¬
tant since he became rich.”—New
York Press.
Hardleigh—“Do you let your wife
have her own way?” Haftoo —“Cer¬
tainly ; and most of mine. ”—Detroit
Free Press.
In Lawyer’s Office : Senior Partner
— “Shall we go out and take some¬
thing?” Junior Partner — “From
whom ?”—Yogue.
A London paper publishes the nameb
of several public men who use hair
dye. The dark secret is out at last.—■
Philadelphia Ledger.
Vaillant’s last cry was, “Down with
society!” Evidently Mrs. Vaillant
has been giving “afternoonsat home.”
—Minneapolis Journal.
Sapoleon was a corker,
Oaasar a son oi a gun,
Hannibal was a lulu.
i But Atilla was a Hun.
. —New York Mercury. .
Belle—“What an absurd man Mr
Snooks is! He told me he hoped I nevei
giggle;!.” Bessie—“And giggled. what did yol
say ?” Belle— ‘ ‘I ’’—Boston
Transcript.
“This amateur performance yot
speak of—was it a charitable affair?’ 1
‘ ‘Oh, yes; the people knew the young
folks were doing the best they could.”
—Boston Transcript.
A man may speak ten languages and
still be unable to express his feelings
when, after reading a paper studiously
for an hour or so, he discovers that it
is three days old.—Hallo.
“What do you thing of Mr. Hard
hit’s execution ?” said Miss Gushey at
the musicale. “I hadn’t heard of it,”
said Old Growley, “but I think it’s a
good idea; when does the hanging
take place?”—Brooklyn Eagle.
“Excuse me,” said the overhead
wire to the street railway bond, “you
will have to show me the respect due
to a lineal. You cannot forget, you
know, that you are simply a col¬
lateral.”—Washington Star.
“Who’s your friend?” asked the cat¬
fish. “Shad, ” answered the bass, “1
thought you knew him.” “Pretty
well off, is he?” “Oh,” replied the
bass, slightly, “he has about 300(1
bones. ”—Indianapolis Journal.
Father—“I’ve just found out that
the strange young man who comes to
see you has been borrowing money
right and left.” Daughter— ‘ ‘Isn’t
that lovely? He must be a nobleman
in disguise. ”—Boston Home Journal.
“Joliman used to be a smart and
rather airy bachelor, but I think he
must have married since I saw him
last year.” “Why do you think so?”
“I noticed there were two or three
buttons off his coat.”—Spare Mo«
ments.
Weight and Cost ot the First Cable,
The original 1858 cable weighed
ninety-three pounds per mile and had
a conductor of seven copper wires of
22 J gauge. Price of deep sea wire
per mile, $200; price of spun yarn
and iron wire per mile, $265; cost of
outside coating of tar anil gutta¬
percha, $25 per mile; total cost per
mile, $485. At $485 per mile the total
cost of the 2500 miles of deep sea wire
was $1,212,500. To this add twenty
five miles of “shore end” wire, costing
$1450 per mile, and we find that thef
first ocean cable, exclusive of instru¬
ments, cost a million and a quarter'
dollars. —St. Louis Republic.
It Went the Wrdhg Way.
Charles Keith, the agent of Willianv
Deering & Co., in Omaha, entered suit)
against the company for $1100, which'
he alleged -was owing to him as salary, 1 ^
etc. The company filed a cross bill ;
for $35,000, for their property which
wa s in Keith’s hands as their agent. I
After all the evidence in the case had
been submitted the judge gave judg
me nt against Keith for the $35,000.
He wishes that he had kept the busi
ness out .of the courts.—New Orleans
Picayune.