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THE LINCOLNTON NEWS
J. D. COLLEY & CO.,
VOL. I.
Mark Bays.
Ah, me! ah, me! the dark, dark days,
When life seemed far too hard to bear;
When dismal were its weary wayB,
And donbt was very near despair;
When foeliah seemed my best-laid plans,
Impracticable, hopeless, vain;
And I was longing; to let slip
The work that since has brought me gainl
The dark, dark days, when weeping skies
And sobbing winds seemed but to be
The echo of that human woe
Whose deeper meaning was in me;
The days when Love had proved untrue
'And Friendship but a broken reed—
A broken reed that pierced my heart,
And made it inly, dumbly bleed!
t
The dark and dreary days in which
The t>9dy would not serve the mind,
And painful languors had the power
My will in impotence to bind;
When Duty called me with strong voice,
And, heedless both of blame and praise,
I answered her with fainting heart—
Oh, the long, aching, weary days!
But then, O soul, thou wert but one,
But one in a great company,
And each had had some days as dark
As any that had come to thee;
For into every life must fall
The solemn rain of human tears,
Ane over every life is hung
The somber clouds of drifting fears.
But not in laughter and in song
Was I the noblest lesson taught:
’Twas in the struggle of dark hours
My soul to highest aims was wrought.
Then Faith, Endurance, Patience, Hope,
Came near, and made me strong for strife;
And thus the storm of life’s dark hours
Brought me the harvest-time of life.
—Harper's Bazar.
IN THE GLASS.
The village of Slapton was as quiet
a village as can be. There are few
houses in it; and the congregation
that gathered every Sunday at the
parish church came chiefly from the
farms that were scattered broadcast
over the surrounding country.
The vicar was the Rev. Herbert
Gardner, and he was the happy father
of some half a dozen children, the
eldest of whom, Mattie, was a charm¬
ing girl of twenty. There was little
society m the village, and Mattie’s
chief ideas of the world at large were
drawn from the occasional visits she
made to a relative who lived in the
neighboring county town. Still, though
she was homely and; unsophisticated,
there was none of that affected
plicity you so often see in girls.
She was a frank, fearless, outspoken
g'rl, full of life and spirits, and never
8 i liappy as when rambling about the
o'd vicarage garden, picking basket
fils of roses for some sick boy or girl
a ul carrying with them sunshine into
s nne darkened home.
And in such works of real love and
charity the last few years of her life
had been mainly spent. Her
called her “ his curate;” and, as the
living was a small one, she was the
only curate he had.
Mattie had been free as yet from
“ heart disease,” though a neighboring
squire’s son had made several awk¬
ward attempts at love-making; and,
though Mattie quite recognized the
compliment he paid her, she never for
a moment regarded him in any other
light than as a friend, and remained
herself perfectly heart-whole. This
.
had happened when she was eighteen,
and time had gone on smoothly enough,
and at twenty she was still happy in
her uneventful lot.
But the smooth run of life’s wheels
was interrupted at last and the wheels
were jolted out of their usual track;
for about this time there came to the
village a young surgeon who was look¬
ing out for a good opening for prac¬
tice, and had determined to settle down
here. As a matter of course, he and
Mattie often met in the houses of the
poor, and, although not a word of love
passed between them, people began to
associate their names together, and to
speak of what might happen as a cer
tainty.
One day when Mattie was, as usual,
amongst her roses, a servant came to
* say that Doctor Robertson had asked
for her father, and, as lie was from
home, for her. When she entered the
room with her basket of roses on her
arm, the doctor might well be excused
if he wondered which were the fairer
—the rose in the basket or the rose
with the basket. If such thoughts
passed through his mind he quickly
put them aside, for he said:
“ I came to ask Mr. Gardner if lie
would step down to old Silas Jones,
who is very ill with fever. They are
very poor, and any help you could give
them would be of more use than
medicine.”
“ Papa is from home,” she said, “and
will not return till to-morrow. But I
will take them somebeaf-tea and port,
if you think that would be good for
him.”
“ Nothing could be better,” said the
doctor. “ But you must not go there
yourself for fear of infection. I am
.going past the house and will take
them myself if you. will give them to
ine.”
“ No, thank you doctor,” said Miss
THE AUGUSTA, ELBERTON AND CHICAGO RAILROAD.
Mattie. “ I never shirk my duty nor f
delegate it to others, so I will take them
myself.”
“ Anyway, let me walk with you if
you are going now and we can talk
about the case as we go.”
In a few minutes the beef-tea and
the wine were ready and Mattie sal¬
lied forth with the doctor. And this
was the way they talked about the
case:
“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Glorious!” said Mattie.
“What has become of you in the
evenings lately? I used to see you
frequently, but now you are never to
be seen.”
“ Minnie has not been well lately, so
I have staid at home on her account.
It is pleasant to know that some one
misses me,” she said, laughing.
“ I miss you a great deal, Miss Mat
tie—almost as much, if not quite as
much, as your own people do. This is
Jones’ cottage; so now let me take the
things in.”
“ No, indeed ; I shall go in myself,”
said Mattie.
“ No, decidedly no,” said the doctor.
“ It can never be your duty to rush
into uncalled-for danger. I am obliged
to see these people, so let me take the
basket in.”
From that day it began to dawn on
Mattie’s heart that here was one man
who missed her when she was absent
and who tried to keep her out of
danger.
And little by little this thought grew
bigger and took root, until there
came a sort of echo to it, which said,
“ I miss him, too. I wish he had not,
to risk his life by going to see fever
cases.”
And from that day there was less
cordial friendship and there was more
shy reserve in her intercourse with the
doctor. And sometimes Doctor Rob¬
ertson did not know what to make of
it, and one evening he said:
“ What have I done to vex you, Miss
Mattie?”
To which she replied: “Vex me!
Why, nothing, of course! Whatever
made you think you had?”
“My own stupidity, I suppose,” re¬
plied he. “ I should lie very sorry to
you, Miss Mattie.V ‘
^TiiSn dorTUtalk about it, else you
will,” she said,
“ What a lovely rose that is! Would
you mind giving it to me to show me
that you are not vexed?” said the doc
tor.
“There are plenty on that bush,
she answered. “You can take as
many as you like.”
“But won’t you give me that one?
I am going away for a fortnight and
it will be a keepsake—if you will give
it to me. Do, please.”
“If you really want it you shall have
it,” she said, as she took it out of her
bosom and gave it to him.
And, he, as he pinned it in his coat,
said: “ It will remind me of a rose
even fairer than itself.”
“For shame, doctor,” said Miss
Mattie. “ I will not stop to hear such
gross flattery anti away she ran to¬
ward the house.
“Shake hands first,” iie cried, “I
am going to-morrow, early. One may
get smashed up on the journey, so I
should like to part friends. It is a long
way to Manchester.”
She gave him her hand, saying:
“Good-bye, Doctor ltobertson; I wish
you a pleasant journey.”
He had been gone about a week
when, as Mattie was coming down the
street, if street it could he called, the
doctor’s housekeeper was standing at
the door with a paper in her hand.
When Mattie drew near, the old
woman cried out: “Laws a mussy,
Miss Mattie, but do’ee just read this
paper. My owd eyes binna so good as
they oncest was;” and the old lady
held out a crumpled newspaper.
And Mattie read: “On the 24th
inst., at the parish church, Manchester,
James Robertson, M.D., only son of
Peter Robertson, M.B.C.S. and L.S.A.,
of Manchester, to Sarah Elizabeth,
daughter of the late Isaac Jefferson,
of Poitou.”
For a moment Mattie was speecli
less with mingled feelings, Then
came the reflection that this garrulous
old woman must not see her pain.
And summoning up all her resolution,
she said:
“If you write to him, wish him much
happiness for me.”
In the solitude of her chamber she
looked into her heart and learned her
secret. This man, who was another’s
husband, Imd made himself dearer to
her than any ono on earth could be;
and she bad been mistaken in suppos¬
ing that he cared for her. Oh, shame
shame, to love where she was not loved
—to give her heart unasked ! Still,
she never told her love—the secret.was
her own, and she could keep it invio¬
late and meet him on his return with¬
out flinching. And, although she had
no power to put him out of her heart,
LINCOLNTON, GA., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 1882.
she could and would prevent her mind
from dwelling upon him.
One morning she heard that the
doctor had come home. She was
standing amongst her roses with a
very sad heart, when she saw Dr.
Robertson passing up the road with a
lady. He lifted his hat to her, and she
tried to return his salutation as she
would any other friend, but somehow
the warm blood came to her cheeks and
it was but a stiff and unfriendly little
bow that she gave him. And while
she stood thinking of it all, and won
dering why she should he so unhappy,
she heard footsteps behind her on the
gravel walk, and turning, saw Dr.
Robertson advancing eagerly to greet
her. Again the crimson tide flooded
her face, making her look very lovely
in her confusion. But she managed
to stammer out something about “ Glad
to see you,” when the doctor broke in
with:
“Not half so glad as I am to see
you. I have been to a wedding since
I left Slapton, and enjoyed my holiday
immensely.”
“Yes, I know,” she said; “I saw
your wife walking with you this
morning.”
“Did you, indeed?” he said, while a
smile of quiet joy lit up his face.
“And where were you looking when
you saw her in the glass?”
She looked at him quickly, then her
eyes dropped before the expression of
his, and again the telltale blush over¬
spread face and neck.
“ Where did you see my wife,
Mattie?”
“ In the road,” said Mattie.
“ No, that was my sister,” he replied,
“ In the newspaper,” she urged.
“ That was my cousin,” he explained.
Come here. Did you look in the
glass this morning ?”
“Yes,” whispered Mattie.
“Then that’s where you saw my
wife—if you saw her anywhere.”
And, of course, that settled it; and
you all know what happened as well as
I can tell you.
PEARLS OF THOUGHT.
That gilt made black with deceit and
falsehood must reap as it sowed.
No one to whom it is a misery to be
alone has a well regulated mind and
heart.
Envy is a passion so full of coward¬
ice and shame that none have the con¬
fidence to own it.
Speak always according to your con¬
science, but let it be done in terms of
good nature, civility and good manners.
Ignorance is one of those infirmities
that are insensible ; and, though it be
ever so desperately sick, feels no pain
or want of health.
It is against human nature to believe
any people will persist in wrong and
cruelty if they are permitted to enjoy
their natural rights.
Men may often stoop to folly or even
crime with impunity, if they possess
sufficient wealth to purchase silence
and stifle opposition.
It is a great blunder in the pursuit
of happiness not to know when we
have got it; that is, not to be content
with a reasonable and possible measure
of it.
The great art of conversation con¬
sists in not wounding or humiliating
any one, of speaking only of things -we
know, in conversing with others only
on subjects which may interest them.
There are two ways of being happy.
We may either diminish our wants or
augment our means. The result is the
same ; and it is for each man to decide
for himself and to do that which may
happen to be the easier.
To be beautiful we must put a great
organizing and ennobling purpose into
the will, and concentrate our thought
and affection upon it until enthusiasm
wells up in the heart, suffuses the coun¬
tenance and rebuilds the body on its
own divine plan.
Every young man should understand
that he should not care a button for
his likes and dislikes, hut should do
what ought to be done, in spite of any
disagreeableness. The lesson of self
denial is far beyond any other in im¬
portance. It must be repeated again
and again.
A Halt-Room CAR.
A ball-room car is the latest novelty
introduced on the Chicago, Milwaukee
and St. Paul road, and recently a merry
party of St. Louis belles and beaux
made an excursion over the road, and
danced with the train moving at forty
miles an hour. The ball-room was iu
a large baggage car, sixty feet long by
fifteen wide. The floor was elegantly
carpeted, the waffs beautifully painted,
hung witti pictures, and decorated with
bunting, evergreens, and garlands of
roses. There was an orchestra of eight
pieces, and refreshments were passed
around every hour.
MOM EXTOLS MATTERS.
The industrial schools are said to be
having an apparently good effect upon
the Indians. The red men Have begun
to work well and to take pride in their
work. General Armstrong believes
that within five years, with the 100
Indians at Hampton, Va., and the 300
at Carlisle, Penn., and others under 1
instruction elsewhere, all the shoes and ;
harness needed on the plains can be
made by the young men at home i !
!
The stories told of the management
of the Kent ucky lunatic asylum are
hard to believe. IV ho would have
thought “ducking” is adhered to in
the insane, asylum? The barbarous
practice of ducking is employed for
the punishment of inmates of the
asylum who may he refractory under
the rules, and this is so abusively ap¬
plied that recently two patients have
been ducked to death. One of these
victims committed no other offense
than to spill a little milk upon the
floor of the dining-room.
"We read in Dr. Foote's Health
Monthly that Professor Esmarch, the
celebrated German surgeon, has pub¬
lished the lecture delivered by him at
Kiel, on the treatment of President
Garfield’s wound. He maintains that
the injury was not mortal, but that
death was caused by carelessness in
the application of antiseptics. He
would have had the surgeons refrain
entirely from searching for the bullet,
and content themselves with a rigor¬
ous antiseptic treatment, as did Lang
enbeck when the emperor of Germany
was wounded.
A half a dozen years ago a most ex¬
traordinary funeral ceremony was per¬
formed in Cincinnati. The corpse, the
former wife and companion of the chief
mourner, lay in her casket, which, in.
stead of being covered with solemn
black, was draped in blue. The apart¬
ment was brilliantly lighted with gas
and adorned with flowers. The husband
and his daughter, a young lady, arr?' ed
in full dress costumes, their (hands
covered with white kid gloves, stood
up and received their "friends as
were guests at a party, and the body of
the deceased was subsequently cremated
at Washington, Fa. All this was done
at the request of the lady while alive.
She was Mrs. Pitman, wife of Mr. Bonn
Pitman, who, with his brother, invented
the well known Pitman short-hand sys¬
tem. His wife was an excellent short
hand reporter, and both in that and in
subsequent work as teacher of wood
earving in the Cincinnati art school
had rendered him much assistance.
After her death he continued teaching
wood-carving at the school. Among
his pupils was Miss Nourse, a very
successful pupil whom he greatly ad¬
mired, and whom, in spite of her being
twenty years old, or ten years younger
than his daughter, and between thirty
and forty years younger than himself,
lie has recently married. But whether
they dressed in black during the cere¬
mony, and the guests were received
and seated by the undertaker, does not
appear in the reports.
For some time past a story has pre¬
vailed to the effect that the nickel
pennies issued from 1856 to 1858, and
commonly known as “ buzzard ” pen¬
nies, contained some gold which had
been accidently mixed with the alloy of
copper and nickel of which the pennies
were made. Recently, J. C. Rodney,
of Austin, Texas, sent twenty of these
pennies to the United States assay
office, in New York city, with the in¬
formation that the pennies were being
bought up at $15 per hundred by
speculators ou the supposition that
they contained gold. He asked for an
assay and information as to the truth
of the story. The communication
and coins were forwarded to the mint
at Philadelphia. Superintendent
Snowden, of the Philadelphia mint,
in a letter to Superintendent Van
Wyck, of the assay office, says that
tlie pennies contain no precious metal,
and consist of an alloy of eighty-five
per cent, of copper and fifteen per cent,
of nickel. The false impression as to
the presence of precious metals in the
coins he thinks grew out of the fact
that the pieces of 1856, technically
known as pattern pieces, were given a
fictitious value because but few of them
were issued, and were eagerly sought
.after by numismatists on account of
their rarity, from fifty cents to $1
apiece being paid for them. These pat¬
tern pieces were obtained from the
mint by dealers in or collectors of
coin, and they were readily disposed of
at tho premium demanded, as curiosi¬
ties. At the present time they sell
readily at a much higher premium, as
the “buzzard” pennies of 1856 are
nearly all in the hands of collectors.
No special value attaches to the issue
of any other year.
A SOTEl* OUTLAW.
The Cars of the Victim Tendered in Payment
for Drinks.
John Alfred Slade, the noted outlaw
and highwayman, used to wear a
beaded and gaudily-covered buckskin
"suit which cost $750. Slade’s exploits
are well remembered by all the old
time settlers in the West. At onetime
he became involved in a difficulty with
a Frenchman named Jules, an Indmn
trader ’ who ha(l s P ent the £ reater P art
of his life among the Indians of the
plains.
Upon the establishment of the over
land line of coaches to California, Jules
was much incensed, as he claimed it
was an innovation upon the rights of
the Indians and the traders, and would
bring too many whites upon the plains,
He waged incessant war upon the over
land line, with the aid of Indians
and half-breeds, by running off
stock and committing other dep¬
redations, which were con
tinued without restraint until John
Alfred Slade appeared upon the scene
as a division agent from. Fort Kearney
west. This man was a refugee from
justice, having killed a man in his na¬
tive county of Clinton, I1L Soon after
taking charge of the division, Slade be¬
came the terror of the road, and his
bold and reckless daring involved him
in numerous quarrels with stock thieves
and others. His quick aim and steady
nerve sent many a desperado to a
bloody grave; in fact, he sought quar¬
rels, and, to use the parlance of the
times, “always got his man.” A deadly
feud existed between .Jules and Slade,
and the former resolved on his
(Slade’s) death. Knowing that on a
certain day Slade would come down the
road upon the overland coach, Jules
laid for him at the station, and as the
former alighted from the coach, fired
upon him with his gun, both barrels
of which took effect, and as his
enemy lay writhing upon the earth,
poured the contents of his dragoon
pistol into his body. Then mounting
his horse, Jules rode into themoun
tains, fearing the vengeance of Slade’s
friends. Strange and unaccountable
as it may seem, Slade was found to be
alive and was carried into the station,
and though J during upon the point
of death for months, he recovered from
his wounds and laid his plans for the
capture of his enemy, who was finally
hunted down and taken to Bovey s
station. The names of the captors of
Jules were Nelson Vaughn, John Fry
and another man, who is now a resi
dent of Montana Those three persons
having secured Jules, sent a messen
ger for Slade, and the two bloody men
met again face torface; this
however,. Slade had the drop, bemg
heavily armed and with the three
armed captors of Jules at his hack.
Well knowing his doom was sealed,
Jules stood up and demanded
half a chance for his life.
“You gave me no show,” retorted
Slade, “ but take this and defend your¬
self,” handing the Frenchman a pistol
which he knew well would not re
volve—and the next instant sent a ball
through the forehead of Jules near
he top of the skull, who reeled and
fell. Slade and his party then retired
to the next room to take a drink, but
upon returning found that the pros¬
trated Frenchman was gone. Horses
were mounted and the country scoured
to no effect; but upon returning to the
station the wounded Jules was found
in an outhouse covered up with hay.
He was led out and shot through the
mouth, and again at the base of the
right ear, which finished the job.
Vaughn cut off the ears of the dead
man and gave one to Slade, reserving
the other. The two worthies tiien
came to Denver with these bloody
trophies in their pockets and wore
them at the different bars on a pro
longed spree, in slapping them on the
counter as a tender for payment of
drinks .—Colorado Gazette.
A Camp of Chinese Laborers.
Mr. E. V. Smalley, in an article on
.“The New Northwest,” in the Century >
ascribes vividly the rich region lying
between the Rockies and the Cascade
ranges, and gives the following pic¬
ture of a railway construction camp:
Camping and traveling in the forest
was a delightful experience, spite of
rain and fatigue; but no one of our
part) w as sorry one morning to be met
on the river’s bank by an engineer
who brought a package of letters and
the information that the camps of the
Chinese graders on the railroad were
just across the river, that there was a
wagon-road to the end of the track,
and that he had a skiff and two rowers
to set us across the turbulent current.
We had traversed the whole distance
(six hundred miles) between the ends
of the railroad, which are advancing
to meet next year on (lie summit of the
itocky mountains. The news that we
should see a locomotive that very day
was received with enthusiasm. It
meant beds, baths, clean clothes, news¬
papers, telegrams, napkins, silver forks
and a hundred other things never no
ticed or appreciated till out of reach,
We rearranged our luggage, bestowed
our bedding upon the half-breed In
dian, the Kentucky negro and the white
lad, who jointly managed the pack
train, got over the river, and were soon
driving through the camps of three
thousand Chinese laborers. It was Sun
da 7» and work on the grade was sus
pended. The canvas town swarmed with
men. Some were having their heads
shaved, others were combing and wind
i Q g their pig-tails; others, stripped to
their waist, were enjoying a sponge
bath. One man was on his knees going*
through some religious ceremony over
a chicken before dissecting it for the
pot. There were Chinese stores,
Chinese restaurants and Chinese gam¬
ing tents. For fifteen miles the woods
were literally full of Mongolians. Not
a feature of their Asiatic life do they
abandon, save that, from the necessity
of walking in mud and dust, they wear
American boots. Their basket hats,
blue blouses and loose trousers are
supplied by Chinese merchants, and a
large portion of their food—their rice
and dried fish, and all their sweetmeats
and dainties—comes across the Pacific.
The road was lined with Chinamen
driving fat hogs to their camp to be
slaughtered for the Sunday dinner, or
carrying bundles and boxes and boards _
for tent-flooring, suspended to bamboo
poles, balanced on the shoulder in the
exact style of the pictures on the tea
chests.
The Chinese laborers on the railroad
earn one dollar and sixteen cents a
day, and are hired by gangs of forty
from agents of the six companies in
San Francisco. The usual estimate of
the effectiveness of their labor is that
three Chinamen are equal to two
white men; but the superintendent of
construction on the railroad asserts
that he prefers the Chinese, man for
man'to such white labor as can be had
on the Pacific coast.
The railroad operations have caused
j to grow up at Cabinet Landing, a
grotesque and hideous town of tents
and shanties clinging to the hillside
(
among the pines—a n subsisting
on the wants and weaknesses of
working ., °n, and flaunting in their
f aC es facilities for all the coarser forms
,f vice. Across the river from this
j pandemonium and debauchery, of frontier dirt, is drunk
enness another
transient railroad town, where the
engineers and overseers live, with
their wives and children, in clean tents,
prettily embowered with evergreens.
A Chita Worth Her Weigiu in Gold
A few years ago a steamer was
in g from California. The cry of “Fire!
fire ;>» suddenly thrilled every heart
Every effort was made to stay t!i
fl ameS) but in vain. It soon became
evident that the ship must be lost. The
burning mass was headed for shore,
w iuch was not far off. A passenger
was seen buckling his belt of gold
around his waist, ready to plunge into
the waves. Just then a pleading voice
arrested him:
“Please, sir, can you swim?”
A child’s blue eyes were piercing
into his deepest soul as he looked
down upon her.
“ Yes, child, I can swim.”
“Well, sir, won’t you please save
me?”
“ I cannot do both,” he thought. “I
must save the child and lose the gold,
; But a moment ago I was anxious for
i this whole ship’s company; now I am
; doubting whether I shall exchange hu
man life for paltry gold.” Unbuckling
the belt he cast it from him and said,
‘ Yes, little girl, I will try to save you.”
Stooping down he bade her clasp her
hands around his neck. “ Thus, child;
not so tight as to choke me. There,
hang on now, and I will try to make
land.”
The child bowed herself on his broad
shoulders, and clung to her deliverer.
With a heart thrice strengthened and
an arm thrice nerved, he struck out for
shore . Wave after wave waahed 0Yer
them. Stiff the brave man held out,
and the dear child on, until a mighty
mountain billow swept the sweet
treasure from his embrace, and cast
him senseless on the bleak rocks. Kind
hands ministered to him. Recovering
ijj s consciousness, the form of the dear
child met his earnest gaze, bending
over him with more than angel minis¬
trations, and blessing him with mute
but eloquent benedictions.
It is stated that the Japanese manu¬
facture scissors w ; th stout steel blades
and brass handles, indicating that they
have mastered the secret of uniting
the two metals securely,
France has 5,155 factories engaged
in the manufacture of cotton, woolen
and other textile fabrics, in which
nearly 400,000 operators are employed
PUBLISHERS.
NO. 3.
CLIPPLXG8 FOB THE CrRfOO,
The lion became extinct in Eunji.
about 200 B, C.
Soap is first mentioned in history by
Pliny; it unknown to the Egypt- ‘
was
ians.
The Hindoos have grammatical
works which date hack to two centu¬
ries before the Christian era.
The longest span of wire in the wo~.d
is used for a telegraph in India over
the River Kistnah. It measures mora
than 6,000 feet, and is stretched be¬
tween two hills, each of which is
1,200 feet high.
A Simpson county (Ky.) belle glories
in a head of hair which is seventy
inches long and very thick. She has
refused $80 for it. A man in the
same county .has a ird sixty-three
and one-half inches b
There was at one time exhibited by
Mr. Rolt, an English merchant, a
thread 20,000 feet long, spun by
twenty-two silk spiders in less than
two hours, and which was five timea
as fine as the thread of the silk wotm.
It is stated that if the ear
be suddenly stopped in he?,
allowed to fall unobstnft*!
the sun, under the
fiuence of his attr:
reach the center in $
It has been estima
about six t’ —— * -
which fiv<
list of North
brace 888 spei
having t
eight j m
The
.trial i
promises
preferred
chi population '
on
q ualit y
J. H. Lester stiL _
nought Ga., although 11 t s|
He was bom in Bodda
December 7,1769. Whan
of age he was detailed with
to defend the women and <&*)
from the Tories during.the Revolt, ..
He served under General
the war of 1812.
A Buddhist
the power of delivering a ortW/ <)
w ho jg condemned to A mn’f
j s being led out to die. A ffrocession
0 f priests is seen advancing. wori One of
them, without saying a takes off
his robe and puts-ft on the prison "r.
instantly the guard removes the chains
and the man is free. The priest then
takes 3haTes ^ hsa( , and v e h <
comes a priest.
■-■■■
A Strange Story.
Josiah Gilbert tells this strange story
in the London Spectator: A son of a
family named Watkinson, residing at
Lanenham, Suffolk, had gone to
America. One summer Sunday after¬
noon they were attending service, and
occupying a large, square pew near the
pulpit. It was hot, the door of the
small building was wide open, undone
of the party, who sat looking down
the aisle, could see out into the meet¬
ing-house yard, which was shaded by
tall trees. Suddenly, to his intense
Surprise, he saw the absent brother
approaching through these trees, enter
at the chapel door, walk up the aisle,
come to the very door of the pew itself,
and lay his hand upon it, as if to take
his seat among them. At this moment
others of the family, sitting so that he
was only then within sara'*^^ theiyMf "“Tf f
him also, but at that
vanished. ■as f
Thi.s strang
j raised sad forebodings, but in coi . a
j of time a letter arrived from the f- ■ 1
j ject of them of later dab than the. ot
the vision, and it appeared thru ha
was still alive and well! He was then
written to, and asked if anything
peculiar had happened to him on that
particular Sunday ? He replied that
it was oild he should remember adj
thing about a Sunday so long passed*
hut that certainly something peculiar
had happened to him that day. He had
come in, overpowered with heat, and
had thrown himself upon his bed, had
fallen into a sound sleep, and had a
strange dream. Ho found himself
• among tho trees before the country
chapel j service was going on; he saw
them all, the door being open, sitting
in their pew ; he walked up the aisle,
he put his hand on the pew door to
open it, when he suddenly, and to his
great chagrin, awoke.
It would be interesting to know
whether such a story is known to any
ono else. If authentio, the question
arises—Can sleep release the soul liko
death ?
The Japanese government has 164
foreigners in its employ, including
seventy-three Englishmen, thirty-two
Germans, twenty-one Americans and ■
sixteen Frenchmen.