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THE LAND OF. HOPE.
There's a beautiful isle in a summer sea
In a wonderful country awaiting me,
Where wealth with its blessings and love
with its crown,
Blend in harmony rare; where songsters
brown
Fling out sweet symphonies on each hand.
Oh, the land of Hope is a beautiful land.
No sorrow or illness is ever known there.
No trial or weeping or touch of despair,
No burden to carry, no task to pursue,
No thought that is weary, no sighing to do.
Our lightsome feet tread over glittering
sand,
Oh, the land of Hope is a beautiful land.
But the fairy-like isle in a summer sea
Is a million leagues too distant for me.
Though 1 sailed o’er the seas, and sailed ever
more,
I could never catch sight of its lonely shore,
Though wo hear of its glory ou every hand,
Oh, the land of our Hope is a phantom land.
— E. B. Bohan, in Daughters of America.
THE MORGAN WILL
I had been admitted to the bar, but as
I had very little practice and found my
self with plenty of time on hand, I had
got into the habit of dropping in to chat
with a news dealer who kept a stand
not far from my office. Old Bowls, as
everybody called him, dealt also in
waste paper and rags, which he sold to
the paper makers
One evening he was sorting a lot of
rubbish, when my practiced eye lighted
on what appeared to be a legal docu
ment, bound with blue tape. I took it
up, and saw that it was marked “Last
Will and Testament. ”
I opened it and commenced to read:
In the name of God. Amen. Know all
men by these presents, that I, James Morgan,
being of sound mind and disposing memory,
do make and pubiish this my last will and
testament.
“What’s that you say?” demanded
Bowls, as he dropped a handful of paper
and looked up at me.
I repeated what I had read.
“All right, he said. “JSow read on,
Squire.”
“I give and bequeath to my adopted
daughter, Elizabeth Morgan, ” otherwise
known as Elizabeth Bummers, all my per
sonal and real property, after the payment
of my funeral expenses and my just debts.
“Heavens!” exclaimed Bowls, “that
must be the will of old Morgan, who died
four years ago—it was said—intestate.
He left not less than SIOO,OOO, that all
Went to remote heirs, though everybody
expected it would have been left to this
very Elizabeth Summers, his adopted
daughter.”
“What has become of the adopted
daughter?” I asked.
“I do not know, but I think I cau rind
out.”
“How much of this property is real
estate? and where is it situated”’ „
“Well, there is the Oakdale planta
tion, which lie 3 about five miles out
from here, and is worth at least $50,000.
Then there are several houses in town
also, besides $25,000 in Government
securities.** ■
“Who is the relative that got the
property ?”
“Simon Skaggs. He lives out at the
Oakdale farm. I think he is a second
cousin to Mr. Morgan.”
“What kind of man is he”
“A mean old skinflint, or he would
never have taken the last cent from that
poor girl.”
“Well,” said I, “I propose to take
thiß will home with me to-night and ex
amine it carefully. If I find it all right
we’ll hunt up the girl and recover the
property for her.
To thii he assented, and, depositing
the document in my pocket, I bade the
old man good night and returned to my
office, where I slept.
The next afternoon I went to Bowls’s
•tore. He was alone, waiting for me.
“1 have found where the girl is,” he 1
•aid, as soon as I told him that the will
was undoubtedly genuine. “She lives
about fifty miles off, in a little place
called Friendsville, quite up among the
mountains, on a wild hill-farm, where
things go on in the most primitive man
ner. A distant relative—an aunt three
times removed, very poor, but, it seems,
not without a heart—heard of her desti
tution, and sent for her. An old lady,
who used to know the girl and had her
at her house awhile a.ter old Morgan’s
death, happened to come in here and I
a,sked her if she knew where Elizabeth
Bummers was.”
“1 will go down and see her to-mor
row,” i said promptly.
“And bring her back with you,” au
swered Bowls, as briskly. “My daugh
ter and I will give her a hom* Gad!”
he cried, rubbing his hands enthusias
tically, “we’ll be too much for old
Skaggs, after all.” ..■ ....
It was late the next afternoon when I
arrived at my destination, having made
the journey partly by rail and partly by
stage. The coach put me down at a
lonely crossroads, from which I had
about two miles to walk.
“Oh, yes, the Widow Benhara,” said
the driver, pointing with his whip, “lives
up yonder, just around the point of the
mountain. You'll see the house in ten
minutes or so.”
It was a warm, sultry day in August,
with not a breath of air stirring. I soon
caught sight of the house—a plain, un
pretending structure like so many in that
region. When it was about 200 yards
distant the sound of falling water at
tracted me, apparently coming from some
precipitous rocks on the left. As I was
thirsty I went toward it. As I turned
the corner ot a cliff p handsome girl,
about 20 years of age, emerged from a
sort of cave, bearing on her shoulder a
large water jar. The lightne;-s with
which she stepped from stone to stone
across the brook, the potse, as of some
sylvan goddess, with which she bore aloft
the jar, made me utter unconsciously
an exclamation of surprise. Though she
was dressed in the coarsest homespun
and wore neither shoes nor stockings, I
forgot altogether the homeliness of her
apparel in the grace of her movements,
the exquisite contour of her figure, and
the beauty of her expressive face, which
was now mantling with blushes. A small
dog, apparently a self-constituted pro
tector, barked at me furiously as I ad
vanced, hat in hand; for intuitively I
knew this must be my client.
My client it was. I lost no time in
explaining the object of my visit. She
was very much surprised, but, after a
moment’s hesitation, said with dignity:
“Come up to the house, please. I will
consult my aunt. Down, Tip—down,
sir. ”
The dog ceased barking at this com
mand and trotted quietly ahead. I
offered to take the jar, but she declined
with the composure of a queen.
When she had introduced me to Mrs.
Benham and said; “This gentleman,
aunt, has something very strange to tell
you, and I will leave you with him for a
moment,” she disappeared, returning
some quarter of an hour later, dressed ia
a becoming blue muslin and with the
daintiest of slippers on her pretty feet.
I had meantime produced the will and
given details of the manner in which it
was found.
Not to dwell too long on this prelude
to my story, I will say briefly that my
client and I started the next morning for
Kent, and were met at the depot bv
Bowls and bis daughter, who relieved
me of my charge, while I went to my
boarding house for supper and thence to
my room.
The next day I filed the document in
the office of the County Clerk, and gave
notice to Skaggs that on the following
Monday I should move that it be ad
mitted to probate.
But here a new difficulty presented it
self. In our anxiety l o find the claimant
we had utterly overlooked the attesting
witnesses.
I immediately went to Bow’s and
stated the difficulty.
“Ah!” said he, “why have we not
thought of this before?”
‘ ‘Do you know these witnesses ?” I said.
“Yes, I know them. Tom Jones lived
as a tenant on the old man’s farm at the
time of his death. He now lives about
ten miles out on the Lancaster road.
And, as certain as I’m a sinner, ’squire,
this other witness is dead, William Jack
son ? Yes—l remember him. He moved
to Texas, and died a year ago.”
“Then it’s all up. We can’t get along
without both witnesses. Are you sure
that Jackson is dead?”
“I am certain. He has a brother liv
ing in this town, who received a letter
from the family in Texas at the time of
his death. There is no doubt about it.”
“Then we may as well drop the mat
ter at once. The law of this State re
quires the evidence of two witnesses,
and makes no provision for the death of
one.”
“It does look rather ugly, if that's the
case,” said Bowls. “But let’s make a
fight of it—something may turn up in
our favor.”
My fears proved correct, however. We
made a gallant struggle ; but it was in
vain. My speech, I was told afterward,
was applauded privately by the Judge,
though in his offcial capacity he felt
compelled to decide against me. I re
member that I spoke from a full heart of
the injustice of refusing to receive a will
which everybody knew to be that of
Morgan, merely because one of the wit
nesses had died.
My fair client still remained at my
friend Bowls’s. “My eldest daughter
has come to love her as a sister, ” he
said. “Bessie, as you must have seen,is
unusually intelligent. She had received
quite a good education, too, before old
Mr. Morgan died. The cheerful man
ner in which she bore her subsequent
poverty is, as Mrs. Benham says, a
proof of an unusually noble character.
Now we have invented au effuse that
we want a nursery governess,Tot she is
too proud to stay as a mere pensioner,
and her aunt has consented to the ar
rangement, saying that it is a sin to bury
Bessie among the hills.” a
One day in the following* ummer I
was in the clerk’s office searching some
old records, when I came upon a page
that almost took my breath away. After
reading it carefully I closed the book
and returned to my office.
The next day Simon Skaggs was served
with a summons to answer a suit of
ejectment in the name of Elizabeth
Morgan, for all the real property held by
him, which he claimed as heir at law of
the late James Morgan; and great was
the excitement in the village when it
was known that this suit was begun.
“What could it mean?” asked every
body.
I told no one. Even to Bessie I only
represented that I thought I saw a chance
to recover; but I was careful not to ap
pear too sanguine.
In two months the Circuit Court came
on. Again the court was crowded. The
excitement was even greater than it had
been before. I had prepared no brief.
Not even a memorandum or a book did
I carry to court.
“Morgan vs. Skaggs,” called the
Clerk, and shortly afterward I said:
“Call Mr. Bowls.”
The Sheriff called him. He came into
the court room, took the witness-stand
and was sworn.
Tfie most intense silence now reigned.
My fair client was seated by my side,
pale and quiet. The defendant was
seated near his counsel, calm, confident,
and de l ant.
“Examine the witness,” said the
Judge.
“Mr. Bowls,” I began, “are you ac
quainted with the plaintiff.”
“ I am.”
“ Do you know where she lived, from
the time she was three years old, up to
the time she was sixteen?”
“ I do.”
“Where?”
“With the late James Morgan.”
“Are you certain that this plaintiff is
the same person?”
“ I am.”
“ That’s all I wish to ask,” said I to
the Court.
“Cross-examine, gentlemen,” said the
Judge.
“We don’t wish to ask anything,”
said the opposing counsel—two of the
able-t lawyers in the country.
“ Let the witness stand aside,” said
the Court. “Call your next.”
“ May it please your Honor, we have
no other witnesses that we wish sworn
at present,” said I, rising to my feet and
looking around the room.
A murmur of disappointment ran
through the crowd.
“ Then you rest your case here?” said
the Judge with a smile.
No, your Honor; we have some record
evidence that we wish to introduce;”
and as I spoke I drew it from my
pocket. “It is an authenticated copy
from the records of the country for the
year 18—. It proves that this young
iady was duly and legally adopted as
the daughter of the deceased, and as
such is entitled, under our law, to this
property, as his nearest and only heir at
law. Shall I read it to the jury?”
“Read it,,” said the Judge.
But Skaggs’s lawyers sprang to their
feet with a storm of objections. For a
full hour they argued, with all the force
of their ability, bringing to bear their
vast knowledge and experience. But
j they were finally overruled by the Court,
S who directed me to proceed.
The record was conclusive. After
! reading it I announced I would close the
I case for the plaintiff. The defendant
was so completely taken by storm that
he did not introduce a single witness.
The charge of the Court was lucid and
comprehensive. In thirty minutes the
jury returned a verdict for the plaintiff.
The result was received with loud
acclamations by the excited audience.
Skaggs took the case to the Supreme
Court, but only for the purpose of gain
ing time. The judgment below was
affirmed. , '
Three months later the real estate was
turned over to my lair client. The
securities were given up at the same
time without a suit. With a part of the
interest which had been accumulating
for so many years the old mansion at
Oakdale was refitted and furnished.
Six months later there was a quiet
wedding at my old friend Bowls’s, in
which I took a prominent part.
I am getting on toward middle age.
I love my profession better than ever,
though my time is now necessarily
divided, and a portion of it devoted to
the farm at Oakdale.
The old farmhouse is vocal with
childish music, and a sunny-haired, soft
voiced little woman makes it the bright
est spot on all the earth to me.
Starting an Alligator Ranch.
Captain C. A. Eastman left this port
several months since on the little steamer
Balboa on a trading voyage along the
1 west ports of Lower California and Mex
ico and has just returned to this city,
after having completed a successful trip.
The captain is well known as a pro
fessional curiosity-hunter, having at
times been employed by Barnutn, the Na
tional Museum at Washington and the
zoological gardens and by Government
museums in the 1 astern States and Eu
rope, and has procured for them seals,
sea lions and other marine wonders. He
is also a collector or rare plants, and be
sides many valuable orchids, he has
brought with him a rare collection of
ancient pottery, consisting of jars, idols
and domestic utensils, presumably of
Aztec manufacture, which were found
thirty feet beneath the surface in an ex
cavation made on the Mexican National
Railroad near Colima. But what he
prides himself particularly upon is twenty
live young alligators, ranging from eight
to twenty inches in length, all of which
are in prime condition, notwithstanding
it is many weeks since they left their
place of nativity. With these as a plant
the captain proposes to start an alligator
ranch on some one of the lagoons in the
vicinity of Petaluma or Sonoma.
Terrapin farms thrive in the State of
Delaware, and their cultivation is not
considered beneath the dignity of a
United States Senator. The captain ar
gues that there is a fortune in the pro
ject, because alligator skins are valuable
and are beginning to be rare and expen
sive. and he also claims ’that the beast
can be readily corralled and domestic
ated and their habitations staked off and
secured the same as au oyster bed.
The alligator is known to breed ra
pidly under almost any circumstances,
is easily provisioned, and the projector
of this new enterprise claims that the
animal has been slandered by travelers’
tales, which hitherto prevented
their being iftpoduced to the “glorious
climate of Camornia” and their propaga
tion for the sake of their valuable hides
thus prevented from'becominga remuner
ative “home iudustry.” —San Francisco
Examine ;.
A Parson Prevents Judicial M irder.
A curious incident is related by the
New York Observer of the Rev. Gilbert
Taylor, of Tennessee. Mr. Taylor wms
a Methodist minister—a near relative of
President Taylor and a man of property.
A young man was condemned to be
hung for murder in his town, but Mr.
Taylor was not satisfied that he was
guilty, and one night, passing the jail
where the condemned man was confined,
he had a conversation with him, and be
coming satisfied of his innocence he
aided him to break out, and he disap
peared from the community and efforts
to recapture were fruitless.
Some years thereafter Mr. Taylor was
traveling on horseback in a wild part of !
Arkansas, and being benighted stopped j
at a cabin and asked to be allowed to ;
remain all night. Only a woman ap
peared to be in the house aud she stoutly
refused permission. No other residence
being near, Mr. Taylor insisted on stay
ing, and finally stated that he was a
Methodist minister and that he was
Gilbert Taylor, of Tennessee. The wo
man at once asked him in and called to
her son, who was hiding in the loft of
the cabin, to come down—that the
stranger was Gilbert Taylor, his rescuer.
The meeting was a cordial one, and Mr.
Taylor had the pleasure of informing
the young man that he could return
home, that another person, on his death
bed, had confessed that ho alone was
guilty of murder. There was joy in that
humble cabin that night.
An Ingenuous Criminal.
The old story of the jury that found
the prisoner not guilty and hoped ht
would never do it again has a close par
allel in a case recently tried in one of the
New York courts. The defendant, a Ger
man widow, was on trial the second
time for arson, the first trial having re
sulted in a disagreement of the jury.
The testimony showed that she waa
found last fall in her room bound and
gagged, with a fire burning in the middle
of the floor, and there was a very strong
suspicion that the gagging were her own
work ala Davenport Boys. Tho jury,
however, found her not guilty, and the
interpreter—she could rot speak a word
of English—informed her that she was
free. As she turned with a smiling
countenance to leave the cou»t room the
Judge asked her interpreter to say to
her that the case had a very suspicious
look, and that she had better not gc
around getting herself tied up and
gagged and having fires in her rooms.
The interpreter did so, and electrified
the court by announcing that in response
she solemnly promised never to do it
again. The jury, no doubt,felt convinced
that its duty had been properly dis
charged. — Detroit Free Press.
| Blessing are strewed like flowers in
. our pathway; it rests with us to gathei
them up carof ully or pass them by.
A FAMOUS CHEESE.
A UNIQUE PREsEXT nBCKIYED
BY THOMAS JEFFERSON.
Numerous Massachusetts Admirers
Contributed Milk to Construct
the Monster Token—lts Re
ception in Washington.
The town of Cheshire, situated among
the Berkshire Hills of Massachusetts, is
one of the pleasantest places in all the
country. The pasturage of this region
is excellent, dhe laud is very product
ive, and the dairy farms have always
been noted for the quality of their but-
I ter and cheese. And here, about eighty -
j seven years ago, was made the enormous
j cheese whose fame went abroad through
| out the United States, crossed the water,
j and even spread into foreign countries.
Elder John Lelaud, a celebrated preacher
of his time, was pastor of the village
church. He w'as a vigorous and original
thinker, noted for his exposition of the
Scriptures. People came from far and
near to listen to his sermons. In those
days a minister’s views upon all public
questions were received with respectful
attention, and Elder Leland did not
confine his t labors to parochial affairs.
Any delinquency among the selectmen
of the town, any failure in rigid adher
ence to duty, was boldy attacked by
him in the pulpit, and names were men
tioned with startling directness.
i iiomas Jefferson was nominated for
the Presidency of the United States in :
the fall of 1800. lie was believed by
many to be au infidel, and the feeling of
New England—the stronghold of orfho
doxy—was severe against him. An !
ominous sileuce, that he preserved in re
gard to his own religious belief was
regarded as unfavorable, and it was
even declared in some country towns
that churches would be closed and the
Bacredness of the Sabbath day no longer
preserved if he were elected. Elder
John Leland had no share in this public
opinion. He had been a preacher in
V irginia, where he often met Mr. Jeffer
son.
1 he two men were mutually attracted
and held long conversations together.
Elder Leland became an ardent admirer
of Jefferson. He recognized his Chris
tian character in spit.e of a natural re
ticence, and hfe be.ieved in his princi
ples. When Jetlerson was nominated
he began to work for him. It was said
that the Elder stood alone, but the
sturdy opposition became his inspiration.
He preached politics in the pulpit on
Sunday; he rode to neighboring towns
through the week; he was ready always
with an argument. So great was the
influence that he exerted that when
election day came there was not a mem
ber of the whole county who failed
to vote for Jefferson. Great was Elder
Leland’s delight over the victory, and at
the close of the afternoon’s service in
the next Sabbath he proposed that, as a
people, they should prepare a token of
their good will to be sent to Washington
after the new President had taken his
place at the AVhite House. It should be
somethiiig in which women as well as
men could participate, and he suggested
an enormous cheese, as the natural pro
duct of their industry. Every man in
the country voted for Jefferson
should bring all th curd he felt able to
give. A committee of farmers’ wives,
who were skilled, should jbe appointed
for the mixing. Everybody was pleased
with the idea. Captain John Brown,
who was known as the man to first sus
pect and denounce Benedict Arnold as a
traitor, was a member of this village.
He offered his cider-mill as the best and
largest in the town. They had it
thoroughly cleaned, a new bottom of
wood set in, surrounded with an iron
hoop, and thus converted into a huge
cheese-press. It was a fine afternoon
when the crowd came pouring in from
all quarters of the county to Captain
Brown's farm. Some wealthy farmers
brought quantities of curd, others only
a pailful, but the offerings were poured
into the cider-press. The matrons then
came forward, mixed and flavored it.
The men stood ready for the pressing.
Then, uncovering their heads, all bowed
reverently, while Elder Leland asked
God’s blessing upon their labor. They
sang a hymn, the minister giving out
two lines at a time, and the people sing
ing them, and a social season followed
Until twilight dispersed the crowd.
When the cheese was ready to be re
moved, it was found to weigh 1000
pounds. The parish requested their
minister to convey it in person to the
President. It was a journey of 500
miles, but the sleighing at the appointed
time was excellent, and he started. He
was three weeks on the road. The peo
ple thronged to meet him in every town
and village through which he passed, for
the news of the gift had spread, and such
a cheese was never seen before. When
Elder Leland arrived in Washington, he
sent a note to Jefferson, who suggested
that the members of his Cabinet aud of
Congress,together with the foreign min
isters and other distinguished guests,
should be invited to attend and witness
the presentation. In the midst of this
gathering Elder Leland arose with great
dignity and proffered the huge Cheshire
cheese as a token of „he deep respect of
hi 3 county. The President closed his
courteous reply with these words:
“I will Qa'’-<e this auspicious event to
be placed .pon the records of our na
tion, it will ever shipe amid its glo
riou: archives. I shall ever esteem it
among the most happy incidents of my
|iie: and now my much respected rever
end friend, I will, by the consent and in
the. presence of my most hon
ored council, have the cheese
cut, and you will take back with you a
portion of it, with my hearty thanks,and
presenf it to your people, that they all
may have a taste. Tell them never to
falter in the principles they have so
nobly defended; they have successfully
come to the rescue of our beloved coun
try in the time of her great peril. I wish
them health aud prosperity,and may milk
in abundance never cease to flow to the
latest posterity.”
As arrangements had previously been
made, the steward of the White House
came forward and cut the cheese. A
slice was presented to each guest. Every
pne tasted and declared it to be as near
perfection as it was possible for cheese
to b«.
Elder Leland was greatly delighted
with the whole enterprise. He spent a
few days in Washington and then left
for home. Another large meeting was
held at Captain John Brown’s. The
'Eld'" ~r«ve the who 1? account of his trip,
and the reception of their present at the
Capitol. One can imagine the eagerness
ana delight with which the people list
ened. Each one received a small piece of
cheese, for the whole region came to
hear. This story is still treasured by
those who received it from parents or
grandparents. —Boston Transcript.
Speed in Novel Composition.
There are cases on record, says the
New York Sun, where men have written
twenty-four or thirty-six hours on a
stretch just as stories are told of pro
longed sitting* at the gaming table. Dr.
•Johnson wrote “Rasselas” in a week,
stimulated by gallons of strong tea, but
he touched more posts and trees as he
walked the streets afte.r this perform
ance than he had ever done before, rind
thus walked off his nervousness. Upon
one or two occasions Henry J.
the founder of the Times, is said to have
written steadily for-fifteen or twenty
hours, and when Matt Carpenter began
the preparation of a brief he did not put
down his pen until the work was fin
ished, and sometimes the strain lasted
for thirty-six hours.
Probably the most conspicuous exam
ple of the power to write hour after hour
was bir Walter bcott, whose feats oi
rapid composition of h s Waverly novels
caused even greater amazement to his
friends than the stories themselves.
That is a picturesque description given
by one of his friends who sat at a win
dow directly opposite the room in which
1 Scott was working. He could not sec
the Wizard’s face, but he could see his
hand as it passed over the paper houi
after hour, and when after aa absence of
a few hours, the friend returned to his
window, he saw again that white hand
moving, with steady, unvarying mo
notony, across the sheets, and it seemed
to him like the ghastly hand of death,
as, in one sense, it was.
The average writer of tales or novels
regard* from 1500 to 2000 words a day
as a sufficient, day’s work, although there
is a great difference between writers.
Anthony Trollope set himself a stent,
sometimes a thousand, sometime* fifteen
hundreds words a day, and always did
it. Thackeray, on the other hand,
sometimes had prodigious bursts of
energy, in which he accomplished the
writing of many pages in his best man
ner, and with scarcely an interlineation,
and then again he would write scarcely
a dozen lines in a day, and these were
full of zigzags and black lines and cor
rections.
A Thrilling Suicide.
We were going down the Mississippi,
and had just pulled out of Natchez, says
M. Quad in the Detroit Free Pres*, when
a man, who had boarded the boat at that
place, sat down with four or five of us
and entered into general conversation.
He was learne-d and intelligent, and was
as calm and self-possessed as anyone you
ever met. By and by he coolly said:
“Gentlemen, I want your opinion on
a strange question. Let each one of you
give his choice of death in a case of sui-,
cide.”
There was more or less jocular talk be
fore an opinion was given. There were
five of us,Yo be exact, and two held to
laudanum, one to shooting and the other
two to drowning. It was agreed, how
ever, that in none of the cases would the
victim suffer much, providing he was de
termined to make a sure thing of it.
“Why do you ask, Colonel;” I queried
after a while, seeing that he was silent.
“Because it’s a personal matter with
rpe. Gentlemen, lam very glad to have
met you, and to have had this pleasant
visit. Good-day.”
lie lifted his hat, bowed grandly, and
walked to the port side of the boat and
sprang into the water before the eyes of
fifty people. We stood ready in case
he came up, and the boat was stopped
and held, but never a sign of him did we
see. The Father of Waters closed in
over another mystery so tightly that not
even a finger-tip was shown to guide us.
Some day his body floated to the surface,
to be cast upon the bank and found, but
it was to be soiled into a shallow grave
and forgotten ere the month was out.
Physicians in Metropolitan Office
Buildings.
. “Quite a number of physicians are
opening offices in the large New York
building occupied by brokers, bank
ers, lawyers and other business men,” said
the President of a railroad company to a
Telegram reporter.
“Yes, indeed,” said he, “there are
probably tw’enty-five doctors who are
making good incomes from their prac
tice down here. It is a new departure,
of course, but then it pays and that is
everything nowadays. There used to be
a time when no one thought of consult
ing any one but his family physician,
just the same as some men only drink in
certain places, but now nearly every one
will drop into the most convenient re
sort, and this is particularly true of busi
ness men. They get so fagged out at
night that they haven’t ambition enough
to consult a doctor, and others cannot
find the time.
“Then, again, there are so many cases
of sudden prostration that some person
is bound to require medical treatment
every day in any of the big office build
ings. Men find it an easy matter to drop
into the ‘doctor’s office’ on their w r ay up
or down stairs, and not a few have come
to dispense with the attendance of their
former family physician altogether.
Most of these downtown doctors, as
they are callad, are young men of abili
ty, who. on account of their inexperienc e
and lack of ‘pull,’ have failed to estab
lish a paying business up towi.
Their office hours are from nine to five,
but from that time they are generally at
liberty until the following day.”
Burmese Cats.
Burmese cats are curious-looking ani
mals. They have a joint it the middle
of their tails, which appendage is in
consequence crooked and sticks out at an
angle. They are fine specimens of the
cat race and very useful in a house. They
will attack a venomous snake without
hesitation, aud show much dexterity in
killing one, biting it on the back close
to the head. If bitten, as one of my fa
vorite Toms was once by a cobra, they
will retire to the jungle where they eat
some herb nature points out to them,
and, after the expiration of a few days,
i come back to the house very lean and
hungry, but well and frisky as ever.
Commercial Advertiser.
"Washington bids fair to have a Na
. tional Zoological Garden.
A SALT MINE.
TOUR THROUGH THE GREAT
MINES OF BAVARIA.
The Wonderful Effects Produced
by the Minins Operations a::d by
Nature’s Fantastic Handiwork.
—A Weird Experience.
-
A writer in the New York Commercial
Advertiser describes a dramatic visit t«
the great show mines of the balzgam
mergut region in Bavaria, lie says:
The great mountain looms up round
green arid beautiful, from tfie lovely
valley of Berchtesgaden. A dark tunnel
close by the carriage road leads directly
into the dark city of salt under-fffif;
green mountain. As we entered this
tunnel, the guide whose duty it is tn
conduct us, thrust into the hands ol
each a tiny miner’s lantern: and. shiver
ing a little in the vault-like air, we fol
lowed closely after him through the
long and narrow gallery, which was
evenly scooped out of the solid, -ulty
rock. Through the bottom of the gal
lery, which with the exception of a slight
dampness on the ground was quite dry
and clean, was laid a car track Oy which
the workmen pass in and out. Along
the narrow passage we walked single
file, the lights from our lantern pene
trating . the gloom before us, until
we came to a flight of 126 steps
leading into a sort of hollowed-out
clumber. From here the dug-out gang
ways, with ear tracks in each, led off in
every direction to different parts of the
mountain. Into one of these we plunged,
the dark salt crystal, glistening as we
passed. In comparing the muddy-look
ing salt in its crude state with the pure
white salt of our tables, we can realize
what a purifying process it must undergo
before it is fit for use As we penetrated
further into the heart of the mountain,
however, the percentage of salt became
so great that only the traces of powdei
used in blasting prevented the crystal
walls from appearing quite white.
Through tunnels that grew saltier and
more salty, we ascended another flight
of steps and were then in the gallery
above the one we had entered. To give
au idea of the extent of these great show
mines of the world, the guide told u*
that there were five stories of worked
out galleries above us,extending for mile
in the mountain in all directions, and
still the inexhaustible store exists tc
unknown heights and depths. As from
25,000 to 20,000 tons of table salt pet
annum are supplied from here, as well as
4000 tons of rock salt for cattle, one car
well believe that this one mountain could
supply the whole world with that useful
commodity.
Upon descending another of the inter
minable stairways cut in the rock a
weird and beautiful sight burst upon us.
A deep and briny lake lay here in the
bowels of the earth, its borders defined
by the hundreds of twinkling lights that
the miners had placed there, aud which,
reflected in the black pool, doubled and
redoubled and lighted mysteriously the
lofty chamber out of which the lake wa!
hollowed. The scene was so weird and
fantastic that we might well have fan
cied ourselves in another and not better
world. The lanterns threw fitful gleams
over our strange attire and lighted as
tonished faces. Was this the river Styx,
and was that Charon waiting to row us
over? For there was a boat and we
were to continue this fanciful program
by entering it and being paddled across
the inky lake. Surprises were in store
for us on every side, and as we landed
on the other side, a tiny fountain shot
out of the water a shower of glittering
3pray that gleamed and sparkled in the
many lights, completing a scene very
like some weird spectacular drama.
There are many of these great pools in
the mountain, but only this one is ex
hibited to visitors. The water is let in
fresh from the mountain above, and is
allowed to lie until thoroughly impreg
nated with salt, when it is carried off in
pipes to the village of Ilsogang, about
four miles distant. There it is raised to
the top of a mountain, to flow down
twenty long miles to Reiehenhall, where
it is evaporated and the crystalized
Balt ground for table use.
From the lake we stiil wandered but a
deep pit soon barred the way. Here we
were to be shot down a slippery board
into the dark regions below, very much
as if we had been wheelbarrow loads ol
Balt rocks, to be dumped down a chute.
Protests were of no avail, this was the
route laid down, and unless we wished
to be left behind in the dark mines, we
must follow it. We meekly took our
place astride the long board until we
were a closely packed mass of absurd
humanity, men and women together.
The guide, by means of a rope, kept us
from slipping until we were safely on.
Then, our limbs close to the earth, our lan
terns welt in front, and fearfully clutch- 4
ing our neighbors’ shoulders, we were
shot like lightning down the smoothly
polished plane, bringing up with a bang
in the bottom of the nit. It was all so
sudden and breath-taking that we
scarcely realized what had happened un
til we were on our feet. The pit into
which we had made such a sudden
entry had a still deeper pit in
the centre of it which was railed
for safety and hung round with hun
dreds of miners’ lanterns. This pit, we
were told, had once been a briny lake
like that we had just passed, but it had
long ago been drained, revealing one of
the richest veins in the mine. A shaft
of over 305 feet in depth had been sunk
here, yielding pure salt all the way, and
its limit had not been reached. No
miners were then at work here, as, ow
ing to the danger from blasting, all
work is suspended during the hours de
voted to visitors.
Another shute carried us into the bot
tom of the cavern, and from here an
othgy long tunnel was traversed, which
led into a little show room. The miners
had here arranged the prettiest bits of
salt formations into fanciful shapes,deco-1
rated with small salt fountains and lan
terns. Bits of salt rock were here pre
sented as souvenirs, and we were then
placed astride a long cushioned board on
wheels. In this way we went thunder
ing down the long galleries at dizzy ,
speed, soon rolling into the blue light of
day.
According to an expert, French cooks
oery generally use carbonate of ammo
nia.to preserve the color of vegetables.
What would lav on the point of a pen
knife is mixed in the water in which the
vegetables are boiled.