Newspaper Page Text
THE MAJORITY.
How fare they all, they of the pallid faces,
Beyond our power to beckon their return?
How is it with them in the shadow places?
How shall we learn
Their solemn secret? How can we discover,
By any earnest seeking, the true way
Unto the knowing in what realm they hover,
In what high day,
Or in what sombre shadows of the night,
They are forever hidden from our sight?
“We question vainly. Yet it somehow pleases,
When they have spoken the last sad good-by,
It somehow half the pain of parting eases,
That in the sky,
In the vast solitudes of stars and spaces,
There may be consciousness and life and
hope.
And that when we must yield to death’s em
braces,
There may be scope
For the unfolding of the better powers,
So sadly stifled in this life of ours.
—Tracy Robinson, in Boston Transcript.
THE CANNON’S MOUTH,
»>y f. a. mitcheij.
They said it was a forced march.
First, some soldiers on horseback went
tearing by with a terrible clatter, leaving
a cloud of dust behind them, then it was
all quiet for an hour. I heard a tramp
ing, and looking up to the crest of rising
ground to the north, saw the road
packed with soldiers on foot. They
came quickiy up, and I scarcely had time
to see what tliey looked like before those
in front had passed. They didn’t march
like soldiers I had seen in the city on a
gala day, when I was a little girl; they
hurried along, each man walking as he
liked I wondered how they could
go so fast, they were loaded down so.
They carried great heavy knapsacks and
blankets, and tin pans and canteens, be
sides their muskets. They look more as
if they were going to set up liouse-keep
ing than to war.
While I was leaning on the widow
sill, looking out and watching them, I
saw a young officer ride into the yard,
just as if he belonged to the place—or,
rather, as if the place belonged to. him—
and back toward the barn. Two soldiers
rode close behind him, and they got
down oil their horses and went into the
barn. I thought at once they were after
our horses. My pony was there, and
I made up my mind they shouldn’t
take him without walking over my dead
body. I ran down stairs and out to the
barn. If I had been making a forced
march myself I couldn’t have gone faster.
Before I got there they had two horses,
out, and were harnessing them to the j
farm wagon. I marched straight up to
the officer and asked him what he was
doing.
O v |
He was a trifle startled at seeing a girl
standing before him, looking as if she
intended to make a resistance.
e’re ’pressing all the horses and
wagons we find along the road.” he
said.
“What do you mean- by ’pressing
them ?”
-*'■ We’re ’pressing them into the ser
vice.”
“What fori”
‘'To carry the men’s knapsacks. They
can march faster.”
“Do you think it makes it any more
respectable to call it 'pressing?"
The officer’s face was flushed. I
thought it was because he was ashamed
of his work; but I soon noticed that he
was in a burning fever.
“You shan’t take my pony, anyway,”
I cried, going to a man who was leading
him out of the barn and seizing the
halter.
“.Nevermind that horse,” said the of
ficer ;‘ ‘ it’s only a pony. Take it back
into the stable.”
The man obeyed at once. They har
nessed two horses to the wagon, and
led the team into the road. As the
soldiers marched past it they threw their
knapsacks on the wagon, and it was
soon loaded, and one of the negroes
drove it away.
Just then an officer came along with
a number of other officers and a train of
horsemen following him. 1 noticed that
he had stars on his shoulders, and wore
a straight sw T ord instead of a crooked one
like the rest.
“Captain,” he said, looking at the of
ficer who had taken our horses and
wagon, “you’d better not try to go any
farther.”
“I can go on, general. It’s only in
termittent.”
The general cut him short with, “Stop
where you are.” He spoke so sharp that
I thought he was going to bite the cap
tain’s head off. I wished the captain
had the courage to ans\*er him, but he
hadn’t. The general and those who
were With him rode on, leaving the sick
man sitting on his horse looking after
them, to take care of himself as best he
could. I noticed he wore the same orna
ment on his cap as those about the gen
eral—a wreath—and I concluded he was
one of them.
There was an interval in the passing
regiments, and no one was near but the
captain and me.
“What are you going to do?” I asked
him.
I was sitting on the fence, with my
feet dangling. It wasn’t a very graceful
position, but I was only a country girl
then, and didn't know any better.
“I don’t know,” lie said, wearily; “I
suppose I must ride back to N .
There’s a hospital there.”
If he hadn’t been a Yankee and a rob
ber, or a ’pr*sser, which is the same
thing, I’d have asked him to come into
the house at once, he looked so sick.
“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself,” I
Said, “to take horses that don’t belong
to you?”
He did look ashamed. “It isn’t a
Sleasant business,” he ssia. ‘You’d
etter get that pony of yours out of the
way; there'll be more troops along here
by-and-bv.”
When he said this his voice sounded
bo pleasant, and he looked so sick, that
I made up my mind to ask him in. But
I couldn’t bring myself to speak kindly
to him. I couldn't forget that he was a
Yankee soldier.
“Come into the house,’ I said,sharply.
He looked at me out of his melancholy,
feverish eyes.
“No, I thank you. I’ll ride back to
N and he turned his horse's head
to ride away.
I called to him to step He obeyed
me, and I went out into the road and
took hold of his bridle.
“What do you mean by that?” he
asked, surprised.
“I going to ’press your horse.”
“What for?”
“To keep for the safe return of those
you’ve taken.”
lie looked at me sort o’ dazed. He
put his hand to his head, and didn’t
seem to know what to do. I led his
horse up to the veranda. He dismount
ed and walked feebly up the steps and
sat down on a bench, while I took his
horse round to the barn.
Well, the captain was put to bed. He
had typhoid fever, and a very bad case
it was. Occasionally, when troops
would come into the neighborhood, I
wound mount my pony, and ride over
j to their camp and ask to have a surgeon
! come and sec him. Between the sur
geons and my nursing we got him
through the crisis. I nursed him for
six weeks. Then he became con
valescent, and it was very nice to have
him sitting up in an arm-chair on the
veranda looking so pale and handsome, j
I used to sit by him with my work, and
he seemed so gentle and so patient —not
at all like he appeared to me when 1 1
first saw him riding back to the barn to
’press the horses—that I began to feel,
sorry he wasn’t one of our own men in
stead of being nothing but a detestable
Yankee.
One day while I was sitting on the
veranda beside him, sewing, he said:
“Miss Molly, are you still holding my
horse as a hostage?”
“Yes. Ours haven’t come back yet.”
“Don’t you think you could let me
take him when I get well, if I should
promise to go and find your horses, and
have them returned?”
“I’ll see about that when you get
well.”
He’d been talking already about going
on to join the army, but I din’t think
him well enough, and didn’t mean to let
him go. He couldn’t very well go
without his horse, so I wouldn’t let him ;
have it.
“What hostage do you require in token
of my appreciation of your kindness since
I’ve been sick?” he asked.
“Y T ou haven’t anything to leave. Be
sides, I’ve done very little, I’m sure.”
He thought a moment. Then he said,
somewhat sadly:
“Yes; there’s one thing I can leave—
only one. I’il leave that with you.”
I couldn’t think of anything he had
except his revolver, and I was sure he
wouldn’t leave that. It wasn't appro
priate. -I waited for him to tell me, but
lie ■-aid nothing about it then.
At last he was well enough to go. At
least he thought so; I didn’t, lie was
still as weak as a kitten, but I saw how
anxious he was, and I didn’t oppose him
any longer. So one pleasant morning,
when the air was soft and the roads were
dry, I told one of the colored boys to
bring the captain’s horse round from the
barn.
The captain stood on the veranda ready
to mount and ride away. His blanket and
rubber poncho were strapped behind the
saddle, just as he had left them, and his ;
horse was so anxious to be oil that the
boy could hardly hold him. The cap
tain took my hand in his to say good-by,
and looked straight into my eyes. I
lowered them to his spurs.
“Y'ou’re a good girl,” he said. “I’ll
not forget your kindness.”
“Oh, I would have do 11A me for
any one.”
“Any one?”
“Any one.”
Then I asked myself: “What did I
want to say that for. ’ „
“I leave you the spoke of,”
lie said, “bnt it is a very poor return for
so much kindness—a mere bagatelle.”
I could have bitten my thngue off. He
was going to make a return —to pay for
what 1 had done for him.
“Yon will find it,” he added, “if you
have the shrewdness to guess where it
is.”
With that he gave my hand a pressure, :
and looked loftg and steadily into my
eyes. Then he mounted his horse and
rode away without once looking back.
As soon as be had gone I commenced
to think what he could mean about leav
ing a hostage. I was sure he wouldn’t j
oiler anything very valuable. He must
know I wouldn’t like that; but I thought
he might leave some little trinket for me
to remember him by. I ransacked the
room he had occupied, looking into
bureau drawers, into closets, any place
the ingenuity of man could find to hide
anything. I even looked behind the
pictures hanging on the wall. Then I
went all over the house from attic
to cellar. Not a thing could 1 find.
Then I recalled his words: “If you are
shrewd enough to guess where it is,” and
went all over my search again. At last I
gave it up. “A pretty way to treat me,”
1 grumbled, “after taking care of him so
long!” I vowed that if ever I should
see him again he should tell me whether
he had really left anything, and what it
was.
News came of terrible fighting at the
front, btragglers, broken-down horses,
wagons, ambulances from which now
and then a ghastly face would look out,
kept going by day after day for several
days. The yard, the barn, the kitchen,
were full of men. They first day they
drank up all the water iu the well. Then
regiments marched by almost as fast as
wheu they were making their forced
march South. They passed on by the
house, but stopped on the crest of the
hill up the road. There they began to
dig with spades and shovels, and the
t next morning when I looked out there
was a long line of forts, and the Yankee
flag flying above them, and, great heav
ens '. tbe black mouths of cannon frown-
ing directly down at us.
\Y T hilel was looking I heard some
thing rattle far down the road. It
sounded like emptying a barrel of stones
into another barrel. Then another rat
tle, mingled with a constant dull doom
ing. All the morning the sounds kept
coming nearer, till at last 1 could dis
tinctly hear the loud reports of cannon
and of muskets all fired at once. I no
ticed a great stir in the forts above!
Horsemen were galloping Lack and
forth; new guns were every moment
thrusting out their ugly mouths, and
men were marching and countermarch
ing. 1 could hear their officers shout
ing gibberish a* them, which they must
have been Indian or Chinese to under
stand. Then more soldiers passed the
house from the South, tiied, dusty,
grimed, some of them running, some
wounded and tottering along slowly.
All passed in a steady stream behind the
forts.
i Suddenly a hosremnn clashed up to the
house—he was all dust and dirt, and hit
horse was covered with foam. He threw
himself from the saddle and came up o»
to the veranda.
Good gracious! the captain.
“Come away from here at once,” he
said: “our men are retreating; we are
going to make a stand behind the
works. You are directly in range. Be
quick! the lire is liable to open at any
moment. ”
Then there was a scramble to snatch a
few things. One took a lamp, another
a pitcher, another a photograph album.
It seemed as if everybody took the most
useless thing to be found. All except
me were hurrying down the walk to the
gate; I stayed behind. The captain tried
to make me hurry. He was stamping
up and down on the veranda and through
the hall, almost crazy at my delay.
“Come, be quick!” he said, as sharp
as if he were the general himself.
“Captain—” I said, hesitating.
“What is it?” he asked, impatiently.
“The hostage.”
“What hostage? ’
“That you left when you went away:
I couldn’t find it. Must we leave it.”
He looked at me a moment as if he
thought I had lost my senses; then he
burst into a laugh.
I never could stand to be laughed at,
and just then it was particularly obnox
ious. I made up my mind that he
should tell me what I had hunted for,
and tell me there and then.
“Never mind that,” he said, seeina
that I was irritated. “Save yourself ana
it’will be in no especial danger. “
“I’ll not leave it, whatever it is,” 1
said, resolutely.
“Come, come! this will be a battle
field in a few minutes.”
“I won’t stir a step till you tell me
what I want to know.” ,
“Nonsense!” he said, severely.
The more severe his tone, the more
resolute I became. I stood stock-still.
“For Heaven’s sake!” he urged, be
coming really frightened; “the gunners
are standing with the lanyards in their
hands ready.to fire.”
“Let them fire!” I folded my arms.
A volley sounded a short distance
down the line of forts to the west. The
captain tried to seize my wrist.
“Do come,” he pleaded.
“Tell me what was the hostage,” I
said, stubbornly.
“Here?”
“Here.”
“No, no; this is not a fit place to tell
you that. For the love of Heaven do
come away 1”
I vowed I would conquer him or die on
the field.
“You shall either tell me or I will stay
here till the battle is over.”
He looked at the frowning forts
anxiously, then back at me.
“You must know?”
“Yes.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
“Well, then, Molly dear, I left you my
heart.”
“I stood as one who sees an engine
coming straight down on him, and
whose limbs are paralyzed from the sud
denness of the discovery. Merciful
Heaven! wliut had I done? What stu
pidity! The blood rushed in’a torrent
to my cheeks; I covered my lace with
my hands.
“And now, sweetheart” taking one of
my hands from my burning cheek and
leading me away—“if you’re satisfied
about the hostage, we won’t stay here
any longer.”
As he spoke there was an explosion in
the forts,rftnd it seemed as if a dozen
were whirling over our
heads, I almost wished one of them would
strike me dead. The captain led me like
a child toward the forts through smoke
and noise and confusion. I didn’t think
of the battle that was opening; I only
thought how immodest he must think
me, and that he never would believe I
j could he so stupid as not to know what
he meant by leaving a hostage.
I have had to suffer all my life for that
one mistake. I never can have my way
abo it anything; for when my husband
finds all other expedients for governing
to be failures, he invaribly taunts me
with having forced his secret at the can
non’s mouth. — Harper's Weekly.
A Colt’s Race With a Train.
The Gl be-Democrat describes a re
markable race between a three-year-old
thoroughbred colt and an express train
in Kentucky. The colt belongs to
Vince Carpenter, at Limestone Station,
in Carter County. When the express
train arrived at Limestone the colt
stepped on the track in front of the en
gine, and when the train started the
colt started also, keeping some distance
in front of the engineer, until a large
trestle was reached at Soldier, the next
stopping point, a distance of five and a
quarter miles from Limestone. The
colt started over the trestle, but fell
down, and the race came to an end; the
engineer stopped, a rope was attached
to the colt, and it was removed from the
track. The race of five and a quarter
miles is reported to have been made in
the short time of thirteen minutes. The
colt jumped several cow gaps, crossed
numerous small trestles and ran around
one or two bridges. When the colt left
the track to go around the bridges the
engineer gave his engine full speed to
try and pass the colt, but it succeeded in
getting on the track in front of the en
gine again and the race was renewed.
At Enterprise a number of men tried to
scare the colt from the track, but it
passed around them and got back on
the track before the train could pass it.
The engineer says that several times he
gave his engine full speed, trying to
pass it or run over it, but it was too
swift for his engine. In the fall on the
trestle the colt was not injured much.
Neglect Lost Him a Fortune.
About ten years ago Mr. 11. B. Mikel,
of Milton County, invented a rotary mo
tion to churn with, and used it at home.
It was a great improvement on the old
fashioned way of churning, and saved
time and labor. Some of his friends
advised him to patent it, but he neglect
ed to do so, thinking he would patent it
at some future time. Neaily two
years ago* Messrs. Davis & Cobb were
selling family rights for the same churn
in this county, and called on >tr. Mikel
to sell him one. On examining it Mr.
Mikel found it to be Exactly like his
churn, and showed his churn to them.
Some other man had patented it and
made a fortune out of it. If Mr. Mikel
had taken out a patent when he invented
the churn it would have paid him hand
somely. —Atlanta Constitution.
WAR’S CARNAGE.
THE MEN WHO FELL ON BOTH
SIDES IN THE CIVIL WAR.
A List of Battles With the Number
of Federal and Confederate
Killed—Figures Full of
Melancholy Interest.
following table of the killed in
the various battles of the war has been
compiled from various sources for tbe
New York Mail and Express:
Union. Con fed.
Bombardment of Fort Sumter. None Nona
Evacuation of Fort Sumter.... 1 None
Riots in Baltimore 4 9
Battle of Bull Run 481 261)
Battle of Wilson’s Creek 223 209
Battle of Ball’s Bluff 222 36
Battle of Roanoke Island 35 16
Battle of Fort Donelson, Tenn. 4+6 231
Battle of Pea Ridge, Ark 203 1,100
Battle of Shiloh, Tenn 1,735 1,728
Battle of Hanover Court House.
Va 53 200
Battle of Seven Pines or Fair
Oaks 890 2,500
Seven Days Retreat, Army of
Potomac 1,583 2,820
Battle of Cedar Mountain, Va. 150 229
Battle of Groveton and Gaines
ville, Va 7,000 7 000
Second battle of Bull Rnn 800 700
Battle of Chantilly. Va 1,300 800
Battle of Harper's Ferry, Va... 80 500
Battle of South Mountain, Md. 442 500
Battle of Mumsfordville, Ky... 50 714
Battle of Antietam, Md 2,010 3,50!)
Battle of luka, Miss 144 263
Battle of Corinth, MBs 315 1,423
Battle of Perry vilie, Ky 916 2,500
Battle of Fredericksburg, Va.. 1,150 579
Battle of Murfreesboro, Tenn. .1,533 14,560
Bombardment Ft. Sumpter 2 4
Battle of Ckancellorsville, Va. .1,512 1,581
Siege of Vicksburg 545 31,277
Siege of Port Hudson, La 500 100
Battle of Gettysburg 2,834 3,500
Battle of Chickamauga, Ga 1,044 2,389
Battle of Lookout Mountain... 757 861
Battle of Olustee, Florida 193 100
Battle of Wilderness 5,597 2,000
Battle of Spottsylvania, Va 4,177 1,000
Battle of Resaca, Ga 600 300
Battle of Cold Harbor, Va 1,905 1,200
Battle of Kenesaw Mount.,Ga.. 1,370 1,100
Capture of the “Alabama” off
Cherbourg, France 9
Battle of Malvern Hill 898 400
Battle of Peach Tree Creak, Ga. 300 1,113
Battle of Atlanta (Hood’s first
sortie) 500 2,482
Battle of Atlanta (Hood’s sec
ond sortie) 100 642
Battle of Winchester and Fish
er’s Hill C 93 -3,250
Battle of Cedar Creek (Sheri
dan’s ride) 588 3,000
Battle of Spring Hill and
Franklin, Tenn 189 1,750
Siege of Mobile, Ala 213 500
At Murfreesboro, the Confederates
lost 14,560 killed, wounded and miss
ing; at the battle of Vicksburg, 31,277
killed, wounded and prisoners; at Win
chester, 3250 killed, wounded and miss
ing, and at the sharp engagement at
Gainesville the Union and Confederate
forces each lost 7000 killed, wounded
and missing. The other engagements
recorded in the table give only the killed.
More soldiers were killed outright in the
battle of the Wilderness than in any
other engagement of the war. Gettys
burg follows next in mortality, and An
tietam makes a good third. The many
thousands wounded and missing after
each battle were often five and six times
greater than the number killed outright.
Comparative statement of the number
of men furnished and of the deaths in
the United States army:
GRAND AGGREGATE.
White troops 2,494,592
Bailors and marines 101,207
Colored troops 178,975
Indians 3^530
T0ta1....:. 2,278,304
Aggregate number of deaths 359,528
New York troops furnished 409,561
New York troops furnished, sailors
and marines. 35,164
New York colored troops furnished 4,125
Total 448,850
Aggregate number of deaths 46,534
It is estimated that 1,000,000 able
bodied men perished in the civil war.
January 1,1861, the army of the United
States for active service consisted of
14,663 men. May 1, 1865, there were
797,807 men on active duty, while 202,-
709 more were absent. During the
Etruggle there were 44,000 killed in bat
tle, 186,000 "died from disease, 26,000
died in rebel prisons, 49,000 died from
wounds, 280,000 were wounded and
185,000 are recorded captured and miss
ing-
An Extraordinary Epitaph.
Mr. E. T. Viett has furnished the
Charleston (S. C.) Neua and Courier
the following epitaph, which was copied
from a tombstone in Horsleydown
Church, Cumberland, England:
Here lie the bodies
of Thomas Bond, and Mary, his wife.
Bhe was temperate,chaste and charitable;
But,
she was proud, peevish and passionate.
She was an affectionate wife and a tender
mother;
But,
her husband and child, whom she loved,
seldom
saw t er countenance without a
disgusting frown, \
while she received visitors,whom she despised,
with an endearing smile.
Her behavior was discreet toward strangers;
But,
imprudent in her family.
She was a professed enemy to flattery, and
was seldom known to praise or commend;
But,
the talents in which she principally excelled
were difference of opinion and discover
ing flaws and imperfections.
She was an admirable economist,
and, without prodigality,
dispensed plenty to every person in her family;
But,
would sacrifice their eyes to a farthing candle.
Bhe sometimes made hex husband happy with
her good qualities;
But,
much more frequently with
her many failings.
Insomuch, that in thirty years’ cohabitation
he often lamented
that, maugreall her virtues,
he had not, in the whole, enjoyed two
years of matrimonial comfort.
At length,
finding she had 10-t th s affection of her
husband, as well as the regard ol her neigh
bors,
family disputes having been divulged by
servants,
she died of vexation, July 28, 1763,
aged 48 years.
Her worn out husband survived her four
months and two days,
and departed this life November 28, 1763,
in the 54th year of his age.
William Bond, brother to the deceased,
erected this stone
as a weekly monitor to the surviving
wives of this parish,
that they may avoid the infamy
of having their memories handed down to
posterity
with a patchwork character.
Old Ships.
The Resolute scoured the Arctic seas
in search of Sir John Franklin. She
was frozen fast in the middle of a wide
waste of ice and abandoned by her crew.
The ice setting outward from the frigid
zone, bore her southward, and after a re
markable drift she was picked up by an
American whaler. The United States Gov
ernment refitted and returned tbe derelict
to Great Britain. She lay uncared for at
her moorings in the Medway for several
years, and was ultimately taken in dock
and pulled to pieces. A suite of furni
ture was fashioned from her oaken
timbers and presented to the President
of tbe Republic. Small pieces of her
were smuggled out of the dockyard, and
many a wooden article is held dear at
Chatham as a relic of the brave old dis
covery-ship.
The duel between the Shannon and
the Chesapeake (.Juno 1, 1813) forms an
interesting page in the history of the
struggle between the United States and
Great Britain from 1812 to 1815. The
Americans had crowded the Chesapeake
with inexperienced landsmen, and had
made ready, it is said, a feast on shore
for the crew on their return flushed with
victory. The unexpected happened as
as usual; the xVmerican frigate became
the prize of the ship of the mother
country. The Shannon also was broken
up at Chatham, and parts of her hull were
sold at a premium.
Sir Francis Drake's tiny ship, the
Golden Hind, at a still more remote
period came to a similar end at Deptford.
A chair made out of her timbers is
treasured by the university authorities at
Oxford.
The Betsy Caius brought over William
of Orange to this country in 1688, and
w\ns cast away in 1827—139 years later.
This historical ship, that helped to change
a dynasty, -was over 150 years old when
she ceased her combat with the winds and
waves. The Brothers, a wooden brig,
built at Maryport in 1786, is even now
ploughing the waters of the North "Sea.
We noticed a good model 6f her in South
Kensington Museum. She is one of those
box-like craft that sailors say are built by
the mile and cut off as they are wanted.
The Robert, a wooden barkentine built
at Barnstaple just ten years after H. M. S.
Victory, is in active service. The True
love of London, an American-built bark
of 1764, would appear to be the oldest
trader in this country, or indeed in the
whole world. The Goodwill, built at
Sunderland in 1785, the Eliza, built at
Whitehaven in 1792, and the Cognac
Packet, built at Bursledon in the same
year, complete the list of British ships
remaining to us from last century. The
Norwegians possess three vessels that
have been employed actively for 100
years— Chambers’ Journal.
Pilfers His Workmen's Minutes.
Standing at a window five stories from
the ground, on Cedar street,a New York
Sun reporter was admiring the tall build
ing to tbe left on the opposite side of
the street, and commenting on the im
provement a new structure would make,
which is now in course of erection,when
his companion remarked:
“See my watch. It is just two min
utes of 12 o’clock. Two minutes after
12 the boss of the 100 laborers and ma
sons on that building will blow his
whistle for the men to stop for the din
ner hour.
The reporter produced his watch also,
and exactly two minutes after 12 o’clock
by the two timepieces the boss blew his
whistle.
“I have observed tbat fact so many
times that lam sure there is method in
it,”gaidMr. Stewart. “I became curi
ous to see what time the men were or
dered to work, and invariably the whistle
blows three minutes of 1 o’clock. In
that way the contractor gains 5 minutes
a day on each man, 30 minutes a week,
120 minutes a month, and 1440 minutes
or 3 days a year.
“Now, say that this contractor em
ploys, in one way or another, 100 men
the year around, and that ho gains five
minutes a day, or three days a year on
each man, what does he gain? Well.say
he pays these skilled and unskilled
w orkmen $2 a day. On one man he will
make $6 a year, and on 100 men, S6OO a
year. That is not so bad, is it?”
The reporter said nothing, but he did
an immense lot of thinking.
The Great Native Fruit Trade.
“We handle exclusively American
fruit,” recently said a large New York
dealer to a Mail and Express reporter.
“You don’t mean to say that these
raisins are a product of native indus
try?”
‘“Yes, sir, I do. They come from the
West. The California raisin industry is
growing into greater prominence every
year. This Muscat grape is generally
used for making raisins. When the
grapes are sufficiently ripened,Chinamen
go into the vineyard with wooden trays
five feet square and three inches deep,
cut off the branches, and lay them in the
trays, being careful that the grapes do
not lie upon each other. The trays are
then laid in the sun and left there. Ten
days later the Chinamen go into the
vineyard again, each one with an empty
tray. They find the exposed side of the
grapes cured, and of a rich purplish col
or. The empty trays are now laid bot
tom up on the filled ones and they are
turned over together,so that the uncured
side is exposed in the new trays. They
are left thus in the sun for another ten
days, and are then taken to the cooling
house, where they are kept for about two
weeks. They are then packed in boxes
for the market, in what is known as the
‘London layer 1 style. There are no bet
ter raisins in the world .indeed there are
few that equal them. The production
last year was 800,000 boxes. 1873 it
was only 6000. This year it is expected
the figures will reach nearly one mill
ion.”
Persian Carpet Making.
A native of Finland named Runen, was
sent about two years ago to the East at
the expense of the Government with the
object of endeavoring to discover the art
of Persian carpet weaving, the secret of
which is strictly guarded by those en
gaged in the trade. He made the jour
ney disguised as a simple workman, but
it w r as only after long and fruitless efforts
to obtain admission into a Turkish car
pet manufactory that he succeeded at a
small place near Smyrna in acquainting
himself with ihe process and making a
design of a loom. A Persian carpet
manufactory has now beer established in
Finland, and important results are ex
pected from the new branch of industry
thus irftroduced. —Pall MM Gazette.
EARTHQUAKES.
ROCKING AND HEAVING OF THU
VALLEY OF THE MISSISSIPPI.
A Series of Remarkable Shaking
that Continued for a Period
of Three Months —Inci-
dents of the Quake.
On the night of December 16, 1811, §
well-defined trembling of the earth
awoke the inhabitants of New Madrid,
Mo., on the Mississippi river. This was
the prelude to a series of most remark
able and exceptional shakings, that con
tinued for a period of three months.
Few instances are on record of such
protracted and violent agitation in a
region remote from volcanic contiguity.
The region of country most involved
was over three hundred miles in length,
and perhaps from fifty to eighty miles
wide, the town of New Madrid being
near the center of the district, with the
great Father of Waters flowing right
through it. Within these boundaries
some most singular natural'phenomena
were made manifest. At this time the
river was low and the water rather clear,
but this changed to a reddish hue as the '
bottom of the river was churned by the
undulations, while the surface was lashed
into bunches of foam that quivered to
the incessant trembling.
The atmosphere was peculiar. A thick
and apparently gaseous vapor shone in
the dim light with a purplish tinge, and
seemed to be distinct from smoke or the »
haze of Indian summer. There was what
has been fre juently noticed, a peculiar
“earthquake sky” and “earthquake air.”
The great force seemed to pass along in
the form of great undulating waves, the .
effect being the alternate opening and
closing of immense fi-sures. As the
earth thus opened along the shores of the
great river, when the rents closed again,
water, sand and mud were thrown, in
many instances, over the tops of the
trees. The heaving of the bottom of
the river would temporarily check the
current, but in its subsidence would send
the flow on again with increased im
petuo-ity. In many places where the
banks were precipitous they fell into
the troubled river with almost cataclys
mic violence. Innumerable trees thus
fell in and lodged on the sandbars, while
the accumulated water-logged wreckage
of ages was lifted and changed situa
tions. Boats were lost and their crews
with them. Although in the latter half
of December, the weather was sultry
and oppressively hot.
Owing to loosening of the roots tbe
forest trees generally over this region
thereafter presented the appearance of.
“deadenings.” Girdling with an ax*
could not have killed them- more effect
ually. In the river new islands rose and
some old ones disappeared. Most singu
lar, too, was this remarkable action on
the land. Hills sunk from sight, and
lakes were there instead. Where some
lakes had been the land was dry and ele
vated, and vast heaps of sand lay scat
tered in every direction.
At times, when this condition was at
its highest, shock followed shock, whilj
the vapor was so thick that not a sun
beam could penetrate through it. Con
siderable areas sunk somewhat below
their former levels, and into some of
these basins tbe Mississippi commenced
discharging its waters, and for a timej
the river presented the singular specta-®
cle of running towards its source,®
Where these “sinks” fell below the®
water level lakes were formed, one of®
which is probably seventy miles in length®
and from three to twenty wide, in places®
shallow, in others fifty to 100 feet deep,®
being considerably deeper than the bot-B
tom of the river.
In the vicinity of New Madrid the
earth was rent with innummerable fis
sures : the churcyard on the bank of the
river was thus detached and engulfed in
the waters. Skeletons of long extinctl
monsters were in some instances thrown!
to the surface in the throes of this re-J
markable upheaval.
The fissures had a prevailing direction!
with some variation, generally north anfl
northwest. The country people perl
ceiving this general trend, felled trees si
as to fell across these prevailing lines!
and on occasions when shakes and break!
were unusually threatening they wouli
fly to these and get on them as a measurl
of safety. I
It was a time of general terror. Th|
eminent engineer, Eringior, related tfl
Professor Lyell, the widely known geoß
ogist, that he saw, as the wave motiol
advanced, trees bend down and meetia®
others they would interlock before the!
could again right themselves. Mr. Lye*
visited this region in 1846, in the intere®
of science, and saw numerous .“san®
blows,” as they were called —circul*
cavities of varying diameters and deptls®
One peculiar sink hole was noticeable,®
it had dropped right down, interrupts
an even plain, the sides being then
very steep, and the distance down to tfl
water’s edge twenty-five feet. A regifl
covering hundreds of square-miles,fl
known as the “sunken country,” «fl
presents an interesting field of curiosifl
to the students of nature. —PittstiM
Dispatch.
Roman Gladiators.
It is not to be denied that it was I
splendid sight when a hundred ol tfl
gladiators, who were to play the “fi>|
act,” so to speak (they were a mere fr®
tion of all the performers to be exiifl
ited), came marching in, two by t®
They were armed mostly as soldiers, ®
with more of ornament and with grea®
splendor. Their helmets were of van®
shapes, but each had a broad brim a®
a visor consisting of four plates, the ®
per two being pie- ced to allow fl
wearer to see through them. On the ®
also there was what one might liken tfl
comb of a cock; and fastened to thifl
plume of horse-liair dyed crimson, or®
crimson feathers. Some were cal®
“Samnites” (the name of an Italian tfl
that once nearly brought Home to®
knees). These carried a short sword®j
large oblong shield. Others were arfl
as Thracians, or as Greeks. 11 ' B
again, were distinguished by the synfl
of a fish upon their helmets. Put fl
most curious of all were those cafl
“net-men.” who were equipped w»fl
net in which to entangle an
having so disabled him,the net-inaO*fl
him with a three-pronged harfOfl
These have no helmets, and are equip*
as lightly as possible, for if they
theif cast they have no hope of f *fl
but in their fleetness of foot.
ola*. 1