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THE LINCOLNTON NEWS
J. D. COLLEY & CO.,
VOL. I.
WASHINGTON ADVERTISEMENTS.
LORENZO SMITH &BR0 •>
—OF—
WASHINGTON, CrA„
ABE OFFERING FOR TEE FALL TEALS
Cincinn ati Buggies
AT $50 TO $75.
Columbus Buggies
AT $100 TO $160.
Baggies and Carriages of other makes and
grades at various prices. Also
STUDEBAKER WAGONS
At $65 and $70.
TENNESSEE WAGONS
At $60 and $65
WEBSTER WAGONS
$60 to $75.
THREE 3-4 WAGONS
A.T
Own Make, at $40.
KEMP’S MANURE SPREADERS, GRAI.\
DRILLS, ALBION SPRING TOOTH
HARROWS, WINDMILLS,
And a General Assortment of
Agricultural Implements
Harness, Also Single Harness from $9 up. Double
parts of Harness, Hubs, Spoke.
and Rims.
4 Good Buggy&Hamesslor $gQ.
Our prices sre guaranteed to be as low as
any similar house in the South. Give us a
tail. Correspondence solicited.
0. M. MAY,
WASHINGTON, GA.,
CROCER
AtfTD DEALER IN
CTT2 tara p=»
The liberal patronage which I have ob
:allied from the people of Wilkes and adjoin¬
ing counties, I intend to hold by continuing
to sell my go.xls at the very lowest prices,
and by fair dealing ill all ilungs. Also
C. M. W3AY & CO.
W ill carry on a General Mercantile business
at Double Branches, Lincoln Co., Ga.
MERCIER’S STORE
A First-Glass Store in Every
Respect.
A full stock of Genera) Moichancliss always
on hand.
.T. N. 31 ercier.
T. H. REMSEftS’S
STORE 1
FINE WINES m WHISKIES.
GENUINE MONOGRAM.
the AUQUSTA, ELBEBTON AND CHICAGO RAILROAn
i ESTABLISHED 1872.
LOWE & BRO.,
RETAIL DEALERS IN
FINE LIQUORS
OF ALL SORTS
AGENTS FOR THE SALE OF
NORTH CAROLINA CORN WHISKY
APPLE AND PEACII BRANDY, FINS
WINES, RUM, GIN, ALE, BEER,
ETC.,.ETC, ETC., ETC.
TOBACCO 41 CIGARS.
WASHINGTON. GA.
AUGUSTA ADVERTISEMENTS.
ROET. H. MAY. A. R. GOODYEAR
RflB’T H. MAY 6 C0.’S
GRAND EXHIBITION
OP
And PLANTATION WAGONS.
ALL SIZES.
The largest and most complete assortment
of One and Two-Horse Vehicles ever shown
in this section. All first-class work, and will
be offered for the next sixty days at prices
way below their value and lower than can be
duplicated.
Do not lose this opportunity. On exami¬
nation this work will prove to you that it
cannot bo purchased elsewhere at the prices
we offer.
Harness, Also, a large stock of Saddles, Bridles
Umbrellas, Lap Robe3, Blankets,
Calf Skins, Sole and Harness Leather, Rub¬
ber and Leather Belting, Trunks, Bags,
Hubs, Harness, Spokes, Wagon Reins, Axles, Trace Chains,
Cash Pbioes. Harness, etc., at Lowest
THE ROAD CART
{PATENTED.)
- The safest, lightest and most easy riding
two-wheeled vehicle ever produced. Of all
the road carts made, use and experience has
demonstrated these to be the best. The
Adjustable Balance is a most valuable fea
tnre of our Road Carts. Buy no other. Price
$50. .
N. B.—We warrant all the vehicles we sell.
Remember oar prices are the lowest.
ROB’TH. MAY & CO.,
BROAD STREET,
Opposite Georgia R. R. Bank
ATJGUSTA. GA.
ORDER YOUR
Saw Mills, Cane Mills
Grrist Mills,
And Plantation and Mill Machinery
Engines and Boilers, Cotton Screws,
Shafting, Boxes, Mill Pulleys, Gearing, Hangers, Journal
Gudgeons,
Turbine Water Wheels, ’
Gin Gearing, Judson’s Governors, Diss
ton’s Circular Saws, Gammers and
Files,' Belting and Babbit Metal
and and Brass Check Fittings, Valves Globe and
Whistles,
Ganges, Iron and Brass Castings, Gin Ribs,
Iron Fronts, Balconies and Fence Rail¬
ing.
Geo. R. Lombard & Co.,
FOREST CITY
Foundry and Machine Works,
NEAR THE WATER TOWER,
1014 to 1026 Fenwick Street,
AUGUSTA, GA.
^“Repairing promptly done at Lowes
prices.
CENTRAL HOTEL,
AUGUSTA, GA.
MRS. W. M. THOMAS, Pbotexktbess
This hotel, so well known to the citizens of
in Lincoln the and adjoining of business counties, portion is located of
center tne
manta to the public such «»only flrst-clasa
hotels can afford.
LINCOLNTON, GA., FRIDAY, JANUARY 19, 1883.
Reward.
Yes, call him ma<3 who dares to climb
The rock-strewn path of Truth—
You who would never dream to peer
Beyond the ken of youth—
You who never see the seed
Till tire bursting of the grain,
And can never feel the sunshine
Glowing just beyond the rain !
Call him mad who, pushing forward
Full a century in the van,
Plants his banner on the hilltops—
Claims man’s leader is a man!
And if you must stop and linger,
Afraid to breast the hill,
Stand back in lower darkness—
Make room for him who will!
Float in your idle vessels
Close within the harbor-bar ;
Make it dance among the ripples,
Though you may not venture far ;
Lie and wonder at the waters
Stretching out so wild and free,
Somewhere there’s a better sailor
Who will dare to put to sea!
Sleep you then in perfect safety
Close within your guarded fort;
Make the War of Barth a pastime,
And the Fight of Life a sport;
Linger, if you will, in pleasure,
While the weary hours lag ;
Somewhere there’s a bolder sailor
Who will carry on the Flag !
Call him mad 1 And yet forever
Some grand leader will be there
Pushing upward to the summit—
Pushing up toward clearer air.
You may stay in lower darkness,
Clasping close your clanking chain :
Some one yet will strike it from you,
Making free the heart and brain !
—George R. Parrish.
A SILENT ACCUSER.
it was the loveliest place for many
miles around, the little, red farmhouse
standing isolated in the midst of an
orchard, half-way up-the hillside, and
shut in by a strip of wood which con¬
cealed it from the village below.
This latter defect might have been
remedied by judicious openings here
and there; but Miss Phcebe Rowel was
of the old-fashioned, conservative kind,
and often remarked that what had
been good enough for her father and
grandfather was good enough for her.
Consequently, she was opposed to all
change and improvement on her farm;
and this, in truth, had been the cause
of Stephen Greer’s dismissal, who,
being of the progressive order, could
not be brought to manage her place in
the slow, old way that she preferred.
Stephen was working now at Farmer
Lawson’s, five miles up the valley, and
he hoped to be able soon to purchase a
little place of his own, and to ask
Bessie Brown, Miss Phoebe’s comelv,
rosy-cheeked maid, to share his home
with him.
Whether or no Bessie would con
ent, was a question with the gossips ;
for, though Stephen was good-looking
and clever, the girl did not seem par
ticularly to fancy him.
Some hinted at a liking which was
supposed to have existed between
Bessie and Miss Phoebe’s nephew, an
orphan boy whom she had grudgingly
“ brought up ” and assisted to educate,
anil who hail disappointed her expecta¬
tions by falling into idle and dissipated
habits, instead of working steadily on
the farm.
Three years ago she had given him
a little money and sent him away to
seek work for himself, charging him
never to return or write to her until he
should he settled in some steady em
ployment.
He had gone West, made some
money, and, as his aunt heard, wasted
it in unsuccessful speculation. Thence¬
forth she “had given him up,” as she
expressed it, convinced that lie would
“never come to any good.”
But one bright, mild day in early
spring, about six months after Stephen
Greer had left Hillside, a young man
stopped at the Farmer’s Rest tavern,
a few miles from the village, and asked
for a frugal supper.
lie was poorly clad, and evidently
desired to pass as a stranger; but one
of the stablemen recognized in him
the long-absent nephew of Miss Phcebe
Rowel.
The man did n.,t. however, betray
his knowledge ; and the guest, having
partaken of the meal he hail ordered,
went on his way, replying, in an an
swer to a question, that he should not
pass through the village, but would
take a shorter route to the main
road.
About an hour after lie had left,
Stephen Greer came riding past, and
seein S the landlady busied about her
flower borders, raking the beds and
planting seeds, stopped for a few mo¬
ments’ chat.
In the course of their talk Mrs.
Winterby mentioned their late guest,
and their suspicions of his being
Robert Steel, Miss Phcebe Rowel’s
nephew.
“That’s not likely,” Stephen re¬
marked, Steel, carelessly. “ If he were Robert
what motive could he have for
wishing to conceal it ? Or why should
he go through the neighborhood, right
through the Hillside farm, and not
stop to see his aunt ?”
“ Or to see Bessie!” suggested the
landlord, who was standing by and not
loth to tease Stephen a little. “Folks
used to say there was a more than ordi¬
nary liking between them two; anil
that was one reason, I fancy, of his
iiunt’s sending him away. She wasn’t
willing to lose Bessie’s services, when
she knew she couldn’t get another
like her if she searched the country
round. Now, 1’U lay a wager the
lad’ll stop to see his old sweetheart;
and if you’re on your way up there,
Steve, acquaintance. you’ll have a chance to make his
He’s a fine-looking
flushed ,l <**?'*/ little, but made
1
I light of the subject.
Early the next morning the little inn
and the village were in a state of great
excitement. Miss Phcebe Rowel had
been found dead in bed, with marks
of fingers upon her throat; and the
bureau in which she kept her money
had been broken open and its contents
abstracted.
From far and near people hastened
to the scene of the tragedy, and poor
Bessie was well-nigh distracted with
the multitudinous questions with which
she was plied.
She had but little to tell. On the
previous day Miss Phcebe had permit¬
ted her to go to a merrymaking at
her aunt’s in the village, on condition
of her being back to her work by sun
rise next morning.
She had returned punctually at the
appointed time, and found David
Barnes, the old man who had Stephen
Greer’s place, quietly attending to his
early morning duties.
To her surprise she observed her
mistress’ bedroom window raised and
the blind open, and surmising some
tliing wrong had gone to the window
and looked in.
She saw Miss Phcebe lying upon the
bed, as if asleep, but no answer being
returned to her repeated knocks and
calls Bessie had called David and in¬
duced him to break open the door of
the room, when they discovered the old
lady to be quite dead and cold.
There were tracks of a man’s feet,
evidently window, in his stockings, outside the
and a few threads of coarse
woolen cloth appeared caught upon a
nail on one side of the sash.
The secretary had not been forced
open, hut unlocked with a key, which
was left remaining in the lock, and
none of the contents of the drawer
had been disturbed except the money
and an old-fashioned silver watch that
had belonged to Robert Steel’s father.
Who the guilty party was Bessie had
not the least idea. As to David, a
simple, pious soul, who had spent his
whole life in this neighborhood with¬
out a word of ill being said of him, no
one ever dreamed of accusing him.
Among those who, on hearing the
news, hastened to the scene of the
crime, was the innkeeper, Winterby,
and he at once informed the magis¬
trate, whom he found there, of the ap¬
pearance of Robert Steel at his hos¬
telry and his strange speech and be¬
havior.
This seemed at once to clear up the
mystery of the case, and parties were
instantly dispatched to scour the coun¬
try in search of the supposed culprit.
Before noon he was discovered
making for the nearest railway station,
and was brought into the village se«
curely handcuffed and lodged in jail.
He firmly and indignantly protested
his innocence. He had returned from
the West some time since, he said, and
had been working at any chance job
that he could get, until, hearing of
good employment to be had on the new
railroad, he- had started thither by a
route which necessarily led past his
old home.
Mindful of his aunt’s parting in¬
junction, he hail no idea of stopping to
see her; but he confessed that after
leaving the Farmer’s Rest, and coming
in sight of the little red house on the
hill, the temptation to call and speak a
few words with his old sweetheart,
Bessie, was too strong to resist.
In the early dusk he had passed
through the orchard, but, to his dismay,
encountered his aunt instead of Bes¬
sie.
On hearing his account of himself
she had been kinder than he anticipated;
had given him a good supper, and, as
it was important that he should reach
his destination in time, had gone
into her bedroom, whence she returned
with a new five-dollar bill, to help him
on his way, and his father’s silver
watch, which she said might now be
of use to him.
She had not asked him to remain all
night—probably she feared his meet¬
ing with Bessie in the morning—and,
it being a mild moonlight night, he
hail resumed his journey, sleeping
awhile in the shed of a wayside black¬
smith’s forge.
This was the account he gave of
himself, in explanation of his posses¬
sion of the watch, which latter Bessie
reluctantly identified.
Only one person believed him, and
that was Bessie herself. The rest of
the stolen money, people said, he must
have concealed somewhere along the
road.
It was remembered that he knew of
the secret place where his aunt was ac¬
customed to keep the key of her secre¬
tary, which accounted for its being
unlocked instead of broken open.
To strengthen the circumstantial
evidence against him, his foot-prints
were of just the size of those found
beneath the window,®while the wool¬
en threads found upon the nail were
pronounced by half a dozen' self-con¬
stituted judges to correspond with
various dilapidated portions of his gar¬
ments.
But the most conclusive evidence
against him was that of Stephen Greer,
who declared that, having remained at
the village inn till past 9 o’clock on the
evening in question, he had then
started for home, when he had seen a
man coining hastily down through
Miss Phoebe Rowel’s orchard from the
direction of the house.
He had a good view of him in the
moonlight, and could take oath that
Robert Steel was the man ; and, fur¬
ther, that he had in his hand a small
bundle not iound upon him when ar¬
rested: and that on seeing him he
skulked in the bushes, apparently en¬
deavoring to conceal himself—two cir¬
cumstances which Robert positively
denied.
It was in the early April that this
tragical event occurred at the Hillside
farm, and the trial of Robert Steel
would not come off for some months.
Meanwhile the little red farmhouse
was deserted, except by David Barnes,
who retained charge of the place; for
Bessie had gone to live with her aunt
in the village.
She had not visited the Hillside
farm for many weeks since that fatal
event which had given it an evil name
in the country.
But one day a neighbor, having
some business with David Barnes,
induced Bessie to accompany her back
to her old home.
The place had been bleak and bare
when she left it in April; but she now
found it in all the luxuriance of early
summer; the trees in full foliage, Miss
Plicebe’s favorite roses and pinks in
bloom, and the garden-walks and
S, up with gr “ “*
Beneath the window by which the
burglar had entered had sprung ud
quite Bessie's a little wilderness of weeds.
companion approached this
spot, in order to get a glimpse of the
room within. At the same moment a
strong, spicy odor arose from the
trampled weeds beneath the window,
“ Why. Bessie,” she said, in surprise,
“I didn’t know as you had sweet
alyssum here.”
“Is that sweet alyssum?” Bessie
answered, indifferently, looking down
at the delicate little plant. “ I don’t
imow how it came here. I never saw
it before.’
“ That's odd. I never knew of a bit
of sweet alyssum in this neighborhood
except what Mrs. Winterin' brought
from her sister’s last spring. Mebbe
she gave Miss Pffoebe some of the
seeds. At any rate, I’ll take away a
sprout. Dear, dear, what a lot of ’em
tliere is springing among tne grass !
and here s one growing m the moss
and dirt in the corner of the window
sill. The wind must a’ blown ’em
here, I’m thinking.”
Bessie made no reply, and she was
unusually silent on their way home,
The circumstance had set her think
ing. • She knew that Miss Phoebe had
never had any seed of sweet alyssum.
How then, came it to be growing on
the place? From the scattered man
ner. in which it grew the seeds must
have been dropped accidentally, and
on the sill of that very window by
which the burglar had entered the
liouse. she knew, she felt in her in
most heart that Robert Steel had
never crossed that window-siU. Who,
then, had left that mysterious trace to
rise up in silent accusation against
him?
Restless and agitated, Bessie slept
none that night. The next morning,
before the sun was fairly risen, found
her on her way to the Farmers Rest,
it was a distance of some five or more
miles, yet she thouglit not of fatigue
as she steadily tramped along the lone
ly road through the increasing heat,
She had invented a little business
errand to Mrs. Winterin', and on her
arrival, having dispatched this, she
adroitly turned the subject to the gar
den, of which she knew the landlady
to be so proud. Of course she was in
vited to see it, audit was not long ere
she descried the plot of sweet alvssum
of which siie had *
heard.
“ riia t’s the only sweet alyssum in
this part of the country.” Mrs. Win
terbv observed, proudly. “It’s a very
skeerse varb and powerful sweet
smelling. I dare say you never saw
anv of it before, Bessie?”
« Only once.” Bessie answered. “I
suppose* seeds’?” vou never give awav * any ’ of
the
“ Well, I hadn’t any to spare in the
spring—not more’n a thimbleful that I
got from my sister Lambkin down
South. Mrs. Lawson wanted some
powerful bad, and I did send her a lit
tie pinch; but when I asked her awhile
ago how it was growing she said she
never got it. I’ll have plenty to give
awav this fall, and you’re welcome to
some, if you want it. Bessie. It's a
nice thing to have in a garden, smellin’
so sweet of an evening; and some
folks like it put away in a clothes
press. It keeps away moths, I've
lieerd.”
“I’ll be glad to have some, I’m sure,”
said Bessie, adding; “ It's a pity Mrs.
Lawson didn't get her seed. Who did
you send them by ?”
By Stephen Greer, one evening
when he stopped jest outside the
fence here, while I was fixing my
flower-beds. He. asked what I was
planting, and when I said sweet alys¬
sum, lie said he’d never heerd of it but
once, when Mrs. Lawson was wishing
for some, because it used to grow in
her mother’s garden. So then I gave
him a pineli, and he dropped ’em in his
weskit pocket, careless-like, instead of
tying ’em up in paper,- and that’s the
way, I take it, they came to be lost.”
Bessie’^heart was beating so fast as
nearly to choke her. To conceal her
agitation she stooped down to examine
the plant, as she said:
“That wasn’t like Stephen Greer.
He’s always careful and cautious. How
long ago since you saw him that time?”
“ Well, nigh upon two months ago.
Stay—now I Steel rekilleet—’twas the even¬
ing Robert stopped here to get
supper. I know it, because he hadn’t
hardly came* got out of sight when Stephen
along, and my old man got to
joking him about him and you, Bessie.
Poor lad!” she added, with a sigh;
“ ’twonld a been better if he’d never
come back, to he tlirowed into the way
of sioli awful temptation; for you can’t
convince me that a good-natured, kind
hearted lad such as Robert was could
ever ha’ planned such a tiling in cold
blood. If his aunt hadn’t been so hard
on him from a child he’d ha’ turned
out as good as anybody.”
“ Robert never stole that money—
never murdered Miss Phcebe!” said
Bessie, standing erect, and speaking
with such firm and almost exultant
emphasis that the landlady was
startled.
Then she took ji hasty leave and
hurried homeward, flushed, excited
and with an occasional sobbing ex
elamation of “Thank God!" on her
trembling lips,
Oh, blessed little plant, appearing in
| that fatal window like an accusing
| angel, to clear the Innocent and point
j out the guilt?!
* And with this thought in her heart
she hurried straight to the lawyer who
had w,, chosen as Robert
counsel.
We have but little more to add to
this true story. Following up the clew
so fortunately so almost wonderfully
offered, a clearer case of circumstan
tial evidence was made out against
Stephen Greer than had served against
Robert Steel.
On hearing the whole Stephen, in
order* to defend himself against the
He* had, he said, on that fatal even
ing, remained in the village with some
friends until about 9 o’clock wlien
starting homeward, be had been led bv
jealousy satis'fy to turn a little out of his rival wav
to himself whether his
Robert Steel, was really at the farm
house !
He had seen a light in the kitchen j
window and another in that of Miss
Phoelie’s room. Glancing through the :
latter as he passed, his attention was ar
rested bv seeing the old lady at an open I
secretary drawer, unrolling a bill from
a large bundle of bank notes, which she
then proceeded to replace in a little
inner drawer, and locking it, hung 8 the
key on a nail behind the secretary and
left the room. Proceeding next to the
kitchen window, he saw her talking latte?
earnestly to a young man, as the
sat at the table, eating ; and it instant
]y occurred to him that here would bo
a good the opportunity of helping himself
to money, the sight of which had
excited his cupiditv.
Cautiously stepped raising the sash, inch bv
inch, he drawer* through the window,
unlocked the and possessed
himself of the roU of bank notes. AH
this had taken some considerable time mu£
and meanwhile Robert Steel
have left; for, as he was in the act of
shutting the drawer, Miss Phcebe ap
peared at the open doorwav and
stantly darted-forward and seized him !
as he endeavored to escape.
A struggle took place, and tocompel, !
her to relax her hold, he had seized her
by the throat; but he firmly protested
that he had no thought or intention of
injuring her. He wished to escape un
recognized, and when slie staggered
toward the bed he had hastily effected
his retreat through the window, catch
ing his clothing on a nail as tfiis he wSi? sprang
to theground.lt was in
the seeds were scattered which had
now arisen from him* tha’ground in silent
evidence again
Stephen Greer was sentenced to a |
long term in the State’s 4arv prison. When
at the end of those '
vears he
came forth a freeman Hillside was !
one of the most prosperous little farms ;
in the country, and Farmer Steel and
his wife, Bessie, as happy-looking a
middle-aged couple as could ho met
with, while a family of stalwart sons
and comely daughters were growing °
up around them *
There was a fine garden at Hillside
stocked with rare and beautiful flow-
ers, but it was observed that among
these the simple and unpretending ^
sweet alvssum seemed always the f
vorite with Bessie. — Susan Archer
•
*
_ _____- - ■
THE IIORE DOCTOR.
-
Much may be done to prevent the
croup by the exercise of good
ment in the care of children. Some
parents make their children very
sitive and delicate by excessive
dence. A child kept in tj;e house and
treated like a house-plant can hardly
be prevented from encountering a rude
blast of wintry weather by the over
sight of some one having the care of
it- It is better to toughlien the child
by clothing it warmly and give it a
good airing every day, either in walk
ing or riding. The mistake should not
be made of putting fur or woolen
about the throat. Toughen the throat
as you dii the face. Be sure that the
extremities are as warmly clad as the
trunk of the body. See to it
that the shoes are made to exclude
snow-water, and still avojdrthe use of
rubbers, unless, if necessary, a pair of ;
low sandals be used to protect the soles '
of the feet. One more hint to over
prudent mothers: Do not cover the
child too warmly when put to bed.
Nothing is more liable to give a child ;
a cold than to be muffled in too many
blankets or spreads of some kind, for
as soon as it gets into an uncomfort
able perspiration it will free itself from
the cumbrous covering, and then by a
sudden checking of the perspiration
contract a cold. There is absolutely
more danger from excessive than too
little Monthly. covering.— Dr. Foote’s Health
An exchange gives some hints and
information which may be useful, as
follows: Persons whose business
does not make it necessary for them
to be out late at night would be sur¬
prised in a night’s walk to observe the
great number of residences in which a
lamp is kept burning all night. This
practice is in some cases necessary family* on
account off sickness in the but
it is nevertheless very hurtful*. No
matter how carefully they may be at¬
tended, kerosene lamps throw out a
gas which is poisonous. When a light
is left burning the windows of the
room are usually closed, because if left
open the light would attract flies and
mosquitoes. The flame of one lamp
turned down low requires more oxygen
to keep it burning than is consumed
by two adult persons. The light from
the lamp is also injurious to the eyes,
and possibly to this fact may be traced
the constantly increasing prevalence of
eye diseases. The best way is to keep
a lamp ready to light in case of an
emergency during the darkness, witli
matches conveniently beside it. The
eyes need rest as well as the brain and
muscles, and they need darkness in
which to find it.
PUBLISHERS.
NO. 14.
Animals and the Ancients,
In r„ ancient Egypt, when a cat , died .. ,. m
th / inhabl ^ntsshaved their
Seir K dv g In T^Vh«I Athras one o£
t iC aw s of Ir'pB’l^nnis declared that
. ni to
no one \ a< a n % a wrong
UIK>n " ere a ?J " are 1TU, ® o£ f C !Jf £be lt * tender r % The and , Gr affec- l eks
H 0 gf te c a e w hl ch ^young of the
, y t , f ^ re ? t8
l re ? ordecI that -" hen the latter lost *’
their feathers from age, the young
;* r Wed themsehes of their down for
tf. o! a’
^re'ollF ot whleh cl2ildr ® n
LL’ , care f ^
e ir
parents, and those who ref used to .
o afferent V■ 18 lt; ft m our V modern u* ™° societies «
.
T Ilerq remarks with reason that, as
man ribes ’ he treats animals as if they
w f lol re conespondingly degraded. For
a ? g t I? e ^2 * th ®, same right !'
? a?\ a ™ gthe 1 rell g“? us tLey cer ® Were m " n,e a1 f- '
‘V f they « in the festl vals.
.j® fPP 6111 ’• m J he i^* kw-rel#efe 91 of the
ySe On . HolTw'Snesda^l “the
Vlp- ? f n™ _ the 1 . cburcl ‘, of a Rheims ® t3tl0n there; went
the canons, preened by the cross, were
Ranged lier F m S a£ m te two f bun lines, WItb each a drawing 1 alK a *
iate nt upon . tes
^no^i saving o\ra
procLsion n' foTw^LS^ ^
of fSivS the Thf ^
J “ ?“ th e e of l “ e **• -T»®
3Dima1 -. dr isedm °f
’ ® t
w ! lthlI w l if hl ^reacli; th ! he often forgot^hia was , P“*
pl<2US functl ? ns tesprmg upon thetord
. .
nf f ^
tfa e procession of the fat ox remained,,
real piece of wreckage from vanished
animais ’
whJe the rights rights erf of animals wei»
r “°g aiz « 1 - thar. duties towar^
man did not escape the earlier
SesUd atfcJiSmSThtSjK
Jd 29 ■' , re «tesr -T ° f “ If an ox (Ibcodus gore a xxu, man 28, or
a " o uian - that th ey die: then the ox-
156 St T*’ 3nd *“ fle8 3
th^rSh^ th shaU 6 ^’1^ be quit. But if the £ ox -
were wont to push with his IkhtA ih
and hatb been tratifled «o
f , v B 0t kept iwra
’ *
w t i he k tu i a VIZI?
B °“ ’ ^ h ^, s ha11 ^ hl f
1 1 death
'
Jud gment& based on h this principle • ,
a r ® r ^ orded a * Athens and Rome,
. Pl f ^. Democritus
■
° Cea ‘
da mage, tobepun
ls.ied with death. Under Doimtian,
“***£*« ‘“gratitude *° of a r lion ^ toward ° f ltsmaster » he
erely punished. Columbia and
that th
the. ox as « the companion of the
a ^ ,rs ° f man ’ an(i ,f‘ at th ® V V
killing , one was regarded as a homicide
aad punished in the same way; and
the ox enjoyed the same privilege in
Attica and Peloponnesus. It is also
sa * d that the Arabs in the mountains
o£ Africa formerly crucified lions,
g uiIt y of murders, upon trees, as warn
‘ n S s to others .—Popular « Science
Monthly.
Initiating a Stack Broker,
Mr. Hatch recently' paid some $.’10,
000 fora seat m the New York Stock -
Exchange. In describing the hearty
reception he received upon his first
appearance in the Exchange, the Her
aid says: Mr. Hatch was hustled to
and fro, surrounded by a hundred 'of
his new associates who shook him vig
orously by the hand or the hair or the
ears, or in fact, any part of his an
atomy they could reach. The athletic
training of the young broker, who is a
Yale man and holder of the class cup
of '77, stood him in good stead and
helped him to elude many over-enthu
siastic attentions. His Wall street
training, however, proved tq be less
complete. Notwithstanding his five
years’ tuition in the office of Fisk &
Hatch he proved to he ignorant of
the depravity of stock broking
human, nature that may exist under
gray hairs and a venerable exterior,
and he knew nothing of the favorite
exchange pastime of “walking Span
ish.” He fought his way toward what
lie believed would prove a haven of
refuge in a group of elderly brokers,
who stood looking at his tormentors
with what he took for an expression
of stern rebuke upon their counten¬
ances. When out of breath and id
most exhausted, he reached the spot
lie received a double shock—mental as
well as physical—for the gravest mem¬
bers of the party, when his back was
toward them, grasped his trousers, and
in a twinkling he was “walking Span¬
ish.” Caught up by a dozen of hands
so that the extreme tips of his toes
touched the floor, in that premiere
danseuse posture he was rushed madly
around the room, baptism receiving as fire,” he re¬
volved a sort of “ of the
lazier brokers striking at him with
caps, handkerchiefs or whatever came
to hand as he flitted past them. When
he at of last managed and to shoot dizzily through pulled
one the doors
himself together on the sidewalk, he
said it was more exciting than any col¬
lege football match he ever engaged
in. ■if
,
If there is a man who can eat hia
bread at peace with heaven and man,
it surely is that man who has brought
that bread out of the earth by his own
honest industry. It is cankered by no
fraud—it is wet by no tear—it ig
stained by no blood.