The Conyers weekly. (Conyers, Ga.) 18??-1888, October 12, 1883, Image 8

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A PHILADELPHIA HEROINE. How Lydia Dnrrah Saved WnnMncton’s Array from Surprise at White illnrsb. {From therhiladelpMa Quarterly of 1827.] When the British army held posses Sioli of Philadelphia General Howes headquarters were in second street, the fourth door below Spruce, in a house which was before occupied by General ■Cadwallader. Directly Durrah, opposite re sided William and Lydia Friends. mem hers of the Society of A su jx’rior officer of the British army, be lieved to be the Adjutant General, fixed .upon one of their chambers, a back room, for private comference, and two of them frequently met there with fire and candles, in close consultation. About the -seooiid of I December the Adjutant Gen wal told Lydia that they would be in the room at seven o’clock and remain late, and that they wished the family to retire early to lied, adding that when they were going they would call her to let them -out and extinguish their tire and candies. She accordingly sent all the family to bed; but as the officer had 'been so particular took off her her curiosity shoes and was put ex «ited. She her ear to the keyhole of the conclave and overheard an order read for all the British troops to march out late in the evening of the fourth and attack Gen «rst Washington s army, then encamped at White Marsh. On hearing this she returned to her chamber and laid down. Soon after the officers knocked at the -door, but she arose only at the third summons, having feigned herself asleep. Her mind was so much agitated that fmm this moment she could neither eat ®°r supposing it. to be in her power to save tlie lives of thousands of ner countrymen, but not knowing how she wasi to convey the information to General Washington, not daring to confide it to her husband. 1 lie time :efi, however, was short. She quickly •determined to make her way as soon ns possible to the American outposts. She sasformed her family that as she was in vrantof flour she would go to I rank fold im wzene; her Husband insisted that she should take the mrud servant with her, bat to his surprise she p >sitively re fused She got access to General Howe ■and solicited, what he readily granted, a pass through the Lu is i troops on the aoes. Leaving her bag at the mill she hastened toward the American lines and encountered (in the way an American lieutenant colonel (Craig) of the ligh horse, who with some of his men, was on the lookout for information. He knew her and mqmred where she was Xomg. She answered in quest of her ■*'«. an officer in the American army walk P™??} with her. 10 th He « c tr did so, 1 t0 ordering f g - bt T his froo f * to keep in sight. To him she dis closed her secret, after having obtained from lum a solemn promise never to be Sray her individuality, as her hie might oe at stake with the British. He conducted her to a house near at &uid directed something for her to eat with made what of course, had all ^curreffi preparations Washington for baf ting _ieme(ia« "till t *iSSh i. yc a c thc.y r< nine quest tb'ono-1, though snlin-'t solic dare to ask a on Jons “ General g ifce Adjutant mo m an] . re; •quested her to walk up to his oom as Slowed 6 'him in terror; but wiienhe . Srof locked the door and begged her with an majestv to be seated, she was sure T wlicther he and* the other officer met she told him that they all retired at eight o’clock. He observed-—“I know you were asleep, dooi for I knocked at your chamber three times before you heard me; I am entirety at a loss to imagine who gave Oeneral Washington information of cm intended attack unless the wails of the it house could speak. When we arrived White Marsh we found all their can jhoo mounted and the troops prepared to receive ns, and we have marched back $ke a parcel r of fools.” A Little Too Previous. A musing anecdote of a Western girl’s effort to fascinate Mr. Arthur is thus re¬ lated by the Cincinnati Enquirer : •“Last winter there was a very pretty girl here from the principal and city, of a great Western State, she was pre¬ vented to the President. Of course he was polite, as he always is, and she im¬ mediately thought she ‘had’ him. He:: knowledge of the world was extremely jnperficial, and her mother hail very little sense or knowledge of the usages of the best society. She boasted of hei daughter’s conquest to her acquaintance, and finally the story was telegraphed to m Western paper. A friend of the Presi¬ dent saw the dispatch and showed it to lnm. That evening there was something going on at the White House. Our flamboyant child of the Occident was there, clothed iu her radiant loveliness, mad a perfect fitting gown from Pingat’s, and she was very pretty. friends She had inti¬ mated to about twenty that she meant to parade lier born captive. So, with an air of nssurance of her coarse -vanity, she endeavored to monopolive him. But, to her into utter circle amazement, she con Id not get the of intimes at all. He barely looked at her, did not ask her to promenade, and when supper came took down a Virginia cousin of his State wife, who was neither young nor pretty, and had never heard of Pingat. The girl and went home and crying Mr. with mortifi cation rage, Arthur was Sever polite to her again.” A Mountain. A Western man has a project for pro¬ viding N. Y. city with a highly desirable sommer resort. Aware that the nearest mountain is too far away to be reached by daily trips, and that thousands of business men cannot be absent except at flight, he proposes to build an artificial eminence. On a site yet to be chosen, feat probably will on build the seashore of Long Island, he a mountain 700 feet In height, with an elevator running up ta a big hotel. All that he lacks is money, of which he guesses he will re _auire $5,000,000. THE WIDOW’S RIGHTS. 4 Romantic Story ot Politics. Love. Mar¬ riage. Divorce, and a Lawsuit, j ndge McCollum, sitting for Judge gee j y m tlle District Court of Wayne CO ) p a f has given an opinion in a case - vv Di c j l fl as created more than usual in- 1( , res j- { Q t,fl 0 community owing to the peculiar and romantic circumstances w liich preceded it and led to its presence j u q M; courts. It is a story in which politics, disappointment, love, marriage, and d j vorce are all strangely mingled, Honesdale was made the countv seat ol vVayne county in 1843, at which time a f raine Court-house was erected. This building was fully adequate to the needs 0 j- q u , county at the time, but as popu j aboI) alld business increased the lawyers and judges claimed that there was need of a j arger aud jitter one. Every rnovernent on the part of the authorities p, bave a new Court-house erected was 0 pp Osed by the peopleatlarge, the popu j adon 0 f tlie county being chiefly com posed of farmers. Finally a Grand Jury was drawn which recommended the ] )n j]ding of a new Court-house, and in jgyg the work was commenced by order 0 j ^j lc court. The building was to cost ^jgo.OOO. The movement met with bit { er opposition throughout the county, advan aLU j am bitious politicians took ^ G f the feeling to foster and increase j) je opposition. Party lines were lost gi ht of _ There were no parties except j. be << Court-house” and “anti-Court b ouse » parties. q’fl e leading member of the Board of Q omdy Commissioners was Thomas Drown. He was a prosperous and ex » )er i ence( j builder and contractor, living near Honesdale. The charge of snper intending the work on tlie new Court house fell to him. He set his heart on conl p] e tion of the building, as he wag am bitious to leave it as a monument 0 j hfe skill and judgment. Among the leaders in the au ti. C ourt-house party was William Hartwell, a wealthy farmer 0 j an int er jor township. He was as de termined that the building should not p e erected under the supervision of the Commissioners then in office as Commis sioner Lrowu wag that it gll ould be. ^ Injunctions and legal proceedings of hind were obtained and brought aga ® i n8 t the Commissioner at the insti ^ tioll o{ the auti-Court-house leaders, the work wa8 greatly ]iamp ered and delayed- Qll the local election of 1877 everything f \ depended. Offices were to fee fl led w ich ^ if the anti-Court-house ^ t was 8ucc sfu ], ’ would compel J the on the Com . td 10 „ se to ce ’ but jf the & itions w . re fi i led l)y tl)e c andi . (latoa the othei . party , the completion Of the regim0 building /which would be assured under ^ “ b * the work had been comm n ced. The ai was a bit _ to one ’ alld both Brown and Hartwell d fr e] f of the ir time and means to st Siti-Court-house thel their respective followings, The ticket was elected b * overwhelming flowed majority. "quickly The result CommiBSionerlS' wa8 \vu,^who by death of 0 ld8 4 fo n d ^hopes!^ ‘n ' Wilham Hartwelf was elected to f his p i acc at the next elec¬ t ion. It was supposed that Thomas w?r 11 'T iJe i and there were other claims against ^ the estate> Brown - 8 son had bee derk to the Board of Commissioners under the mftnageme nt, but he was turned out wheu tll e Hartwell board came into I 30wer - Tha ^editors of the estate be cftme fussing and the Brown homestead wa 8 advertised for sale by the sheriff 1 before him, and appealed to him to sat isfy the claims against his late father’s Property take a mortgage on the Home stead and give them an opportunity to 8ave \ Hartwell s wife had died a few days after he was elected Commissioner. He n « v « r f en tho wldo T of h ls Iate contestant but consenting f to , help , the ® state “ lts ? eeds > he ^lled on Mrs Brown to perfect arrangements to that f 1 “ d - H f ^ as 80 wel P leas f d w J th th « ^ accepted that .. ^ proposed lnm and they marriage were married to . her a f f w days later. His wedding present to her was the old homestead, free and clear of debt. This was in May, 1879. The married life of Mr. and Mrs. Hart¬ well, however, was not a happy one. They lived together until May, 1881, when Hartwell left his wife and went to live with his married daughter, an only child. In the following September Mrs. Hartwell commence:! proceedings against her husband for divorce aud alimony. Soon afterward Mr. Hartwell died, leav¬ ing as Executor of his large estate his son-in-law, J. L. Burcher. It was then found that after leaving his wife, Hart¬ well had assigned and disposed of nearly all of his personal estate to liis son-in law and daughter. Mrs. Hartwell, claiming that this was done to defraud her of her rights in her hnsband’s estate, brought suit to com¬ pel the Executor to make au inventory of all such property so disposed of, he holding that it was no part of the estate, but his property by virtue of gift during Hartwell’s life-time. The court holds that the evidence is clear that the as¬ signments and gifts were made with the intention to jeopardize the rights of the widow, and decides that the inventory shall be made and that the Executor shall give bonds to the amount of $40. 000 for the faithful performance of ids duties in the premises. Free Railroad. There is a free railroad in Oakland, Cal. That city is across the bay from San Francisco, with a population of 45,000. The Central Pacific Railroad Company it, "the needed principal a way directly through and street afforded the best route; but the people were reluctant to have the thoroughfare sjxiiled, and only consented with the proviso that no fares should be collected for rides within the corporate limits. There are several stations on this pecu¬ liar section of the line, and the residents use the trains freely. “Yes,” said the daughter of a ward politician, “Pa is a manufacturer.” “A manufacturer 1” exclaimed a gentleman who knew pa. “Yes,” replied tlie young lady. “He’s a manufacturer of public sentiment, I believe.” “Ohl” ACROSS THE CONTINENT. How the Tourists Appear to the Denizens ol Cheyenne. [From the Cheyenne (Wyoming) Leader.] They come in crowds at this season. Sometimes they are members of the peaceful order of the Young Men’s Hu¬ manity Union and their families; some¬ times members of the semi-military or¬ ganization, the Bayonet and Sword So¬ ciety, and their families; sometimes they are Raymond excursionists, but by the time they reach Cheyenne they have the travel-worn appearance common to tour¬ ists. Local Western travelers get off the train and tramp it up town; commer¬ cial travelers take the ’bus with the cattle men from Texas, and are driveD to the hotels, but the tourists pour out of the sleeping cars and make direct for the railroad dining'-room. The their men wear black caps, pulled down on heads till the bands touch their shirt collars, and dusters so long as to almost sweep tlie ground, and which are creased and limp as if they had been used to sweep the car floor. One man tourist always looks like every other man tour¬ ist. His costume is a disguise, living just as his manners, talk, and way of on a tour give him an identity different from that which belongs to him at home. But if the men are commonplace and uninteresting, it must be said of women tourists that they look shapeless dowdyish. “walking” They wear on their heads hats of a style fashionable some years ago, adorned with dull-hued artificial flowers, which have been mashed flat while the wearers have been lolling against the backs of car-seats or on con¬ venient shoulders. The woman tourist who picks her way in slippers from the car to the dining hall, or who clumps along in her husband’s rubbers, also wears a duster. It is “mussed” into a thousand lumps aud folds, and has streaks of dust and cinders on it running in every direction. There are two char acteristics, aside from slovenliness, which mark the woman tourist. The first is that her face is utterly devoid of com¬ plexion, and the second that instead of speaking she always squeaks. When a mob of tourists have assault¬ ed the dining-room they take possession of it. There is no one iu the dining¬ room to be considered, excepting those of their party. ADd how well they all know each other. Such familiarity as prevails among them, one would think could only be the result of living for years as members of the same house¬ hold. But they have been acquainted, in most cases, no longer than it takes an express train to ran to Cheyenne from the wilds of Jersey or Egyptian Illinois. In the dining-room, they clatter the dishes, “hisst” at the waitress, rattle knives and forks, scrape chairs noisily on the floor, talk from one table to an¬ other a dozen at a time, and make a bed¬ lam of it beautifully. The meal over, they walk up and down the station plat¬ form in couples or fours; or, selecting a “native,” a knot of them will set to work pumping him. Then their wit and knowledge crop out. They know and they are west of the Missouri River that they have passed many shanty towns along the Union Pacific. Therefore they are on the frontier—in the western wilds —and they proceed civilization to. show behind that them. they have left their It was too thin to wear this journey through. When they talk with one of the benighted here, whose experience away from home has not perchance been l imited to a single trip, they snigger and giggle, and ask whether this town’s name is really Siam, or Shanghai, or Shy Ann ? back and whether of the Phoenix there, is Block, really any the town Inter-Ocean Hotel, and the Opera-house? They have heard all about the cattle business. Where do the ranches begin? Where do the cow-boys keep themselves? Where are all the Indians? Are there buffaloes near town ? What State is Cheyenne in ? Is there such a Territory as Wyoming ? Do the people here ever go East? What is the population? Were there never any trees here ? Is it always as hot, or as cold, or as wet, or as dry as to-day ? But the bell rings, there is a scramble for the car steps, the tourists disappear into the doorways of the sleeping cars, note-books are soon in hand, and many interesting data con¬ cerning prairie dogs, antelope, owls, rat¬ tlesnakes, the profits of stock-raising, and the “high altitude” of the region is entered with the purpose when the of instructing journey and astonishing is over. A Soldier’s Mistake. An interview of General Crook on In¬ dian questions would likely result in as much real information as the soldier got, who, when on a campaign in Ari¬ zona, one evening after camp had been made, and being detailed to bring in wood, found the General sitting on a log some distance from camp. The soldier approached, and thinking the General was a trooper or some camp follower (he dresses very plainly and seldom wears a uniform), eat down beside him and com¬ menced as follows: “I am awful tired and worn out with our fearful long march to-day; ain’t yon?” “Yes; bnt I am resting now.” “If we could only kill some Indians once in a while it would be some satis¬ faction, but this marching up hill and down, over burning sands and in the cold of the mountains, -wearing men out for nothing—I don’t believe we will ever see an Indian; do you?” ‘ ‘It looks that way. Still, we may find them.” “I don’t go much on Crook. He’s got a great reputation for fighting Indians, but I think it’s all on paper—newspaper talk—don’t you ?” “I shouldn’t wonder.” Here an officer approached, saluted, and prefacing “General,” his verbal message soldier" by call¬ ing Crook the real¬ ized his predicament, dropped his few sticks of wood and broke for camp, worse frightened than if lie had been suddenly surrounded by yelling Apaches. Dr. H. F. Hamilton says that a\ least once a day girls should have their halters taken off. the bars let down, and be turned loose like young colts. “Cal isthenies may be very genteel, and romp ing very ungenteel, but one is the shad ow, exercise,” the other the substance, of healthful * J COULDN’T SLAP HIM. A Little Story Developed in a Railroad Car. [From the Arkansaw Traveler.] On a railway train, just behind a plainly dressed, motherly looking boy, woman, accompanied by a noisy sat two fashionably dressed ladies. The boy was given to asking all kinds of foolish questions, and occasionally be would whine like a cub bear and twist himself around and fret. “If I had hold of him for one minute I’d blister him till he couldn’t stand up,” said one of the ladies. “Here, then,” replied the motherly him. old lady, “you may take hoi i of If you want to slap him, slap him. I haven’t the heart to do it.” “Excuse me,” faltered the annoyed lady. “I did not think you could hear my remark. ” “Oh, no harm done, for I know that he is enough to annoy anyone, and it may seem strange to you that I do not slap him, but I can’t. Once I had a little boy that I slapped. Every time he would ask foolish questions determineS or whine, I’d slap him. I was to bring him up rightly, so that he idol would of please life everybody. He was the my and I did so much want to see him re¬ spected. Everybody said that I was a model mother and that my son would be a great man, and I was so flattered by these remarks that I was even more strict than ever with him. One night just after I put him to bed, company came and while we were talking, the little fellow awoke and began to cry. 1 told him to hush, and when I found that he did not intend to obey me, I went what to the bed and spanked him. ‘That’s I call discipline,’ one of the company remarked, ‘and I assure you that in after years you will not regret the strict meas¬ ures which you have adopted.’ “The noxt morning my little boy was too sick to get up, and all day he lay in bed. At night I sent for a physician, but before morning he was dead. I don’t think that there was a more mis¬ erable woman in the world. I took his little boots—boots which a few days be¬ fore I had whipped him for getting muddy, and I put them on in my the bureau. I could not bear to live same house where both my husband and little boy had died, and I moved away. One evening while walking along a lonely street, I saw a little boy—a very small boy—standing among some tall weeds. I asked him where he lived and he plucked a blossom and held it out to me. I asked him where was his father and mother, and with curious intelligence he replied that some big men took them away in boxes. I knew then that he was a waif, and took him home with me. In the night he cried, and I got up and sat by the fire with him aud rocked him. He was very delicate, but he was a light that shone on my withering soul. This is the child, and lie’s wearing the little boots that I put on the* bureau, You may slap him, but I can’t.” What Barbers Earn. A barber in a prominent hotel said to a reporter who had noticed the frequent “tips" that he received: “We don’t make as much as you think we do. The p ay ffi the best hotels is $2 a day, and we ge { from $1 to $1.50 extra in fees, Sunday work earns us our days off. How many customers a day? taken About thirty, averaging up the time to cu f flair, shampoo, etc. No, we have no brotherhood or association. We had orie a f ew years ago, but it came to an endi p ay ug ever to strike ? Hardly, Hundreds of men would be ready to fill my place within a day. Sometimes we’re called to private residences. Then we ge f qq cents a shave, at times $1. We fl a ve to furnish our own tools—razors, scissors, etc.—and that costs about $5 a month, outside of the $50 capital neces¬ sary to start us. Of course every good barber has his regular customers, but it wouldn’t pay to start a shop of your own, as few of these customers would follow you; they get used to a place, you see, and dislike to change. Why is a shampoo charged 40 cents when a ‘hair-cut’ is also 40 cents? Well, we don’t make much on the ‘hair-cut,,’ and bo we even it up on the shampoo.” American Drinks in Russia. A letter from Moscow says: “Ameri¬ can drinks” are the latest novelty brought from the country of the Yankees to that of the Czar. Now you hear men in all the hotels and large vodka shops here asking for American drinks, and many a joke is cracked on such occa¬ sions. I heard a gentleman say: “Iprefer American to Russian.” “What American to what Russian?” he was asked by a fellow countryman. “Spirits, of course.” “In what sense?” “In any sense the American drink in¬ spires.” A tipsy Russian remarked: “I feel I am getting Americanized.” American drinks are in good demand here, and the Treasury reaps a large profit from them. Yet the word “Amer¬ ican,” being used too often, and particu¬ larly by loose tongues, annoys the auto¬ cratic Government in good earnest. It is very probable that American drinks, like Nihilist pamphlets, will soon be put on the list of forbidden things. DIDN’T WANT IT STRETCHED. A day or two since a Norwich man car¬ ried a jug to a cash grocery store to have it filled with New Orleans molasses. He was the head of a big family, and had a large jug, hence he bought at the most favorable prices. Later in the day when he called for it, he was surprised to learn that the price was nearly five dollars. “How is this,” asked the buyer, “has molasses gone up ?” “Oh, no,” replied the groceryman, “I’m selling at the regular price.” “Well, how much does that jug hold ?” inquired the purchaser. “Six gallons,” responded the seller. “I have tried time, aud time again,” said the owner of the jug, “to get five gallons of molasses into it, and could never do it. I had as soon pay for six gallons of molasses as not, but I hate to have that jug stretched so.” The groceryman said he would let off a gallon in the price and call it square, and m that way the difference was settled. STORY OF THE PRODIGAL SON. A Sermon Prenelied on an Island on the Georgia Coast. Betoders and Sisters: De discourse ment dis mauning is lueinated from de tex in de book which say: “A suttin man had two son.” Now" de nyoungest son was a berry contentionable nyoung man dat was in no wise respose to do de will ob ’e father, And dare fore he was a projigal son, and de last state ob dat man was wuss dan de fust state ! De Bible say dat dis nyoung man cab to ’e father and say, ‘ ‘Father eim me my share ob de substun, and I will teck it and go away to a fur couutry, and you shall see my face no mo’. ” Now, I reckon de ole man war tired bodderin wid dis projigal, and ’e was willin to let him hoe ’e own row. For we read in de Bible dat de nyoung man teck his share ob de substun and gone into a fur country, and dar he spen’ he substun in riotous extrab agance, high libin and sin ! An’ after ’e money all trow away ’e war reduced to a great necessity. So great war de neces¬ sity ’e war reduced to dat ’e had to hire heself out to one rich man to mine hog ! Now, de Bible don’t say, but it is sup¬ posed, dat dat was a berry mean white man, ’cause we read in de book dat de projigal was fain to full his belly on de husks wat ’e feed de hog wid. And when ’e come to heself he say: “Deberry servant in my father’s house hab bread fur to eat and I ain’t hab none. I'm gwine back to de ole man and ax ’im to teck me as a hired servant. ” And so he teck de perl ring off he finger and trow um to de hog. And de hog run at nm, ’cause you read in de book. “If you cast pearl befo swine he will turn round and ren you!” Now, when de nyoung man was yet a long way off de ole man see um, an’ he ran out to meet um, and he ketch nm and trow ’e ban’ roun’ ’e neck and kiss um, and put anurrer ring on ’e han’ and gie um one white shirt wid gole stud in de bossum, and tell de hired servant to kill de fat calf an’ make a great feast! An’ ’cordin’ to de way he say so it war done. An’ wen de feast was ready he sen’ round to all de rich nabor and invite um ail to de supper. And dey all wid one consent begin to make excuse. One man say he jess buy a yoke ob oxen, and ’e got to go look after he purchase. grcuu’ Anur¬ rer man s°y ’e taka a piece ob new and ’e am’t got time. Anurrer man say ’e jess married to a nice nyoung wife an’ —he can’t come ! Well, wen de ole man see how ebery body discount um ’e git bex, and ’e say to de hired man: “Go out into de high¬ way and byway, and gadder all ye find; for de loss is foun\ and de blind kin see, and de deaf kin hear, and my son dat was dead am alive again. ” So de hired man went and he gadder de bliii and de lame and de halt and de deaf, and all de po’ people in dat lan’, and he fetch um and set um down, and dey make a great feast! An’ arter dey dun eat, de frag¬ ment wat dem gadder up full seben bas¬ ketful amj five small fishes ober. Just here a member took bis hat, walked off a few steps, filled a short, black pipe, stuck it between his teeth, and walked off. Whereupon the preacher resumed in an impressive manner: No “I don’t call no name to-day! name to-day ! But de word ob God has struck de heart ob one relentless sinner iu dis congregation, and ’e gone off to meditation by heself. Dis, my brudders, will show you de cower of faith. We will close de sarbice by singing de him found on de page ob de book. “Come, ye sinners, po and needy so’,” Weak and wounded, sick and THE CRACKER'S RETORT. ’ During the civil war many were the jokes and gibes bandied between the Confederate troopers. A North Caro¬ lina regiment was always saluted with a round of witticisms by the Georgians, as “Know’d you was 'round; smelt tur¬ pentine all the mornin’,” or, “We was all gormed up on account of the tar you fellows left in your tracks.” It was rarely that the North Carolinians had a chance to retaliate. Once, however, a regiment of these brave fellows thought that their opportunity had come. As they were drawn up in line there passed before them a lone straggler. His sal¬ low face, his paunch, and ungainly movements proclaimed him to be a Georgia Cracker. At once he was saluted with yells of “goober grabbler!” (anglice fellow, —ground-nut eater). The poor thus addressed by six hundred men, seemed surprised for a moment, bnt overcome though he was by physical weariness he was sufficient for the emer¬ gency. Straightening himself up, and looking askance at his revilers, he faced them, and said, in a squeaky, drawling voice: “Gentle-men, I hain’t no goober grate bier nuther. I am from North Carliny, the best State in the Confederacy, and from Rutherford county, the best county in the State, and I’m from one of the best families in the State, and they was, too, the best livers in the State, and I recollec’ when I was a boy my pappy he calls me, and sez he, ‘Get up, Sammy, and go down to the branch and wash yer face, and come right back and climb the persimmon-tree and git yer break¬ fast, and then go to school.’ ” Then that North Carolina regiment had not another word to say, but let the Cracker severely alone.— Harper's “Drawer." The Victim of an Octopus. The following account of an attack by a cuttle-fish on a boy is given by the Hiogo Hews: that cuttle-fish should It is not strange damage vegetables growing in fields by the seashore, but the surprising news reaches us that a boy has been killed by one of these hideous creatures. We hear that some few days ago a boy about fourteen years of age was fishing at Tomiokamura, Amakusa, Hizen, and a huge cuttle-fish stretched two of its ten¬ tacles out of the water and grasped the boy’s right arm. The boy shouted for assistance, as the fish was dragging him in, and some men who were near released the lad by cutting the tentacles. When the boy reached home his arm was cold and motionless, and, notwithstanding medical aid was called in, he died five days afterward. In England riders on the bicycle and trycicle are called “bikes” and “trikes.’ THE OLD 8TOBY d a smile on his face, and in harm! A knife hung a,’ Msside *** 8 H A girl it was who opened the door— Like raven’s wing her hair. I ve come,” the visitor said <( tn And as down If you'll she prim sat these the lines editor'Thai’ l ^i .. on * A pang his bosom smote. ’ Now, had it been UkebfanpoletSj And thin. The journalist . would have clinched hi And driven him through sfi9t ‘ the wall. At last a thought-sweet happv thought C a £ e anCU,g hishead “Tho’ T’v o The edrtor s gun didn't kill anv And the maid husband one a gained A. I. ItOBEBTl The Love of Bears for Mel ons. The Denver Republican tells thiJ bear story:— I once worked on a water melon tafion where had 100 If nlar, we acres tit vines at one time. The curious about the business was that our hard® bears-bkek fight wasn’t bears. agm weeds. We’d It Was S 2 all shooting along, got the melons some of them with 1,1 the old on'em as big as a pumpkin, and man was ... rirer cleared ouUo im”t„ ‘ ‘Something and has broke down the word xence battered up about an acre J vines in the clearin’.” We’d just cleared about ten acres woodland the past winter, n doing and rndoni were amazingly well ffi that field So you may know the old man was when he heard this. Him mu down to and I Wen see what was up, and we sawi a minute that it was bears. There were tracks, just as they wen made by men walking on their hands in the soft earth all over the field, am the vines was torn up, and ripe and greei melons mashed to flinders in a way tha nothing but a bear could do. old “They’ll be back to-night,” said tk< man. “You and Josh and Henr clean out your rifles and be ready fa There was a full moon that night, ant I tell you things looked purty. J os l and Henry and I settin’ behind stamps with our rifles across our laps, waiting The fence was still tore down at tin point nearest the woods, and the moon, light shining on the dark forest, when we then expected the bears to come from, vines, anc on the field of watermelon whose looked white mighty tendrils purty. glistened like silver] Now and then we heard a screech owl yelling down in the woods, but we dicin’ pay no attention to that; and presently] saw a bear come out and walk slowly into the field. He was a big fellow, a] black as coal in the moonlight, and h« wasn’t along in any slow hurry either. He saun¬ tered as as you please over tej a big striped Georgia melon, and, settid thai down on his hams, he just picked melon up in his two fore paws anc smashed it between ’em like paper. dripl 11 half a minute his whole head was ping with juice, and I could hear hia smacking his lips like a hog. We let him alone, according to the old man’s instructions, waiting until then should be a bear a-piece for us, for th tracks showed tliat at least six of ’em had been around the night before. In a few minutes along came anothe one, and then there walked in an oldshl with two little ones at her heels. Wj ni had three bears now, but nary one of fired. Watching them bears was thj biggest picnic ever I saw. Sometime they’d catch up a melon just as you’ take up a baby, and holding it close t legs ’em, until travel they’d across the field bigger on their one, hinj see a then smash would go the rind, and tt juice would drip off ’em like they ha just come out of a hath. I was watching the old she teachin her young ones howto break into tl juicy part, when crack went Josh’s rilli and the whole gang started on a rui The vines tripped ’em up so that the couldn’t go very fast, and we each bagge one of ’em, mine being one of the your We watched every night after that fa the season was over, but they were to of ware now, and we never shot moi than one in a night. While wed 1 sitting in one field waiting for then they’d be rip-snorting away at the tro on the other side of the plantation. watermeloi Bears are keener after than a negro, and I can say no m than that. A Palace of Delight. The eccentric King of Bavaria, * sleeps all day and keeps awake at mg who abhors women and is a passiom lover and is of music, worshiper who believes of art m is demure bmidi a will stupas I himself a home which and arte sa^Hasjsiai comfort, elegance, splendor, I at the entrance of Bavarian D* • , the resources of art have been construct this palace of dehg statuo • noble halls will be nned wutli ■ the and choicest the spacious paintings waffs of deoor modern 2V m The that wood put carving any other will existiug . be fS bmi^ to l , on iastening i while the very window designed and « door knobs will be cuted by first-class artists. . 8 wayward king intends to keep alone tiful palace villa for Iximself pubte r^ : is not to be visible from any f and all save the king and his will be forbidden entrance to it. S’inSon this palace are the rums ol an oia^ . W8S AUhoughconst^ _ an eminence passing travelers where it and m » a S all splendid' 1 ^ 1 commanding country. a But y a , rounding is nothing if not ecc w of Bavaria he wj J Were he a per man J J called a crank, but his kmgV 3 £is gives strange a glamor tagJ^tStic to JustwJ , 4 figure as one of the m T 0 J arehs of the nineteenth oi w. -| century.