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YOL. VI.
aesAivie
It **en only could And the fltting phrase
When ltte’s perplexities spread their sparesl
yut we vainly search through will a misty maze
For the,word which lead us from doubts and cares;
For the word that will linger yet leave no smart
In a spirit proud or an aching heart;
The word that will lead to the safe, sure way— ,
If you only could think of the word to say! •
But like '
you stand the interloper lo3t ‘
’Mid countless wealth in the cavern gloom—
And n breath, breathed rightly, Is all ’twill cost )
For happiness. And delay means doom.
And you try in vain and you try again,
Till you fear the echoes that mock your pain. •
And hope fades faint like the dying day
While you’re trying to think of the word to say.
V
I |GREY WOLE’S PINTO* *
v VERY woman is
, considered by the
§ ordinary Indian as
A he use would or dog. his That cay
m k woman is a mistake. sometimes The
asserts herself.
Then there is trou¬
ble.
It was the first
i/n week in July. In
Will the boiling hot sun
"fir! of summer a Northwest there had
come across the
Battle River the
Blaekfeet, the Sar
cees, the Piegans and their cousins
from Montana, with the swiftest
horses of the South, to try conclusions
on the race track with their hereditary
enemies, the great Cree nation, as
they had done in other days in bloody
foray aud fiercely fought battle before
the white man came. Aud the white
man was there, racing, betting, and
haggling over conditions in the Lin¬
gua Franca he had picked up from
the half-breed. And the half-breed
found, perhaps, on that race-track the
the only place where his dual nature
gave him au advantage over both.
For four or five days there had been
racing from daylight to dark, handi¬
caps, private races, tribe races, races
according to the programme, races of
all kinds and at all times. Any one
wanting a race could be accommo¬
dated, ami many wanted. The fever
of the race possessed white, red and
mixed. It was a saturnalia of sport.
L jj^g iu a shack, half a mile away,
)’> .Vtskirts of the settlement, the
could tell by the time of thS
xnon^wious Indian drums whether
the stakes were high or the play was
fast and furious. The Englishman
dropped in after midnight. He had
bought himself out of the mounted
police a few weeks before; said bar
,racks were dull, that the Canadian
Pacific Railway had knocked all charm
out of Western life, and fee that he was.
going Eapt. He knew American
aud made him get up. He wanted to
talk to him. When the Englishman
talked, which was seldom, he was
worth listening to, and the American
got up. Before the Englishman had
finished, he had dressed himself.
And then they went out and stole
a horse.
The fact that the horse was the
property of the Major command¬
ing a troop of the Northwest Mounted
Police added piquancy to the theft.
The American, who was a lawyer and
had a legal conscience, called it “bor¬
rowing.” The Englishman said he
didn’t care a rap what it was called,
the Major’s horse was the only thing
in the district on four legs that could
beat Gray Wolf’s Pinto mare, and
they had to have him.
Grey Wolf’s Pinto was known far
beyond the Blaekfeet, and the Ameri¬
can suggested that even the Major’s
troopiiorse hadn’t speed enough,
grain-fed though he was, and he
hinted something about doping the
mare under the circumstances. The
Englishman loved a horse, and as
they strode along in the moonlight to¬
wards the gate of the palisaded police
fort, he said that doping a horse was
worse than murder, that he wouldn’t
be a party to it, and .that the girl
wouldn’t do it for fifty 'Pierres any
way; she had been brought up with
the Pinto, and he believed loved the
pony. and
Then the Englishman went lied
to the Sergeant of the Guard, aud
hinted mysteriously about an Indian
Tising and his secret mission, as au
old policeman, from the Major to
■carry despatches to a fort fifty miles
away. And the Sergeant felt flattered
at being taken into the confidence of
his chief, and was duly impressed
with the idea of an Indian rising; the
said hope being the something that
keeps the red-coated riders of the
plains alive; and he told the gate arid
.stable sentries not to say anything
about the absence of the Major’s horse
or the Major would be insd.
The Englishman and the American
then took the Major’s horse away and
painted out a beautiful white star in
his forehead and the three white stock¬
ings and the brand mark.
It was late in the afternoon when
the race between Grey Wolf’s Pinto
and the Englishman’s unknown was
called. Every other event had been
dwarfed into insignificance; for wasn’t
the swiftest pony of the South at last
matched? And there w^s a strange
story being whispered around regard-
“To thine own self be true,and it will follow, as night the day, thou eans’t not then be false to any
LINCOLNTON. GA.. THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 2, I8K>.
iug the stakes. The Englishman, so
it was said, had wagered ten gallons
of contraband whisky against Grey
Wolf’s daughter, the beauty of the
Blood Reserve, that he would beat the
Pinto on a horse.be refused to name
It was a novel bet even in that West¬
ern land where everything went.
The Englishman had explained to
the American that the only way he
could get Grey Wolf to put up his
daughter was to bet the whisky. A
Blood Indian would sell his mother
for firewater and he knew Grey Wolf.
The only thing would be the bother of
getting the whisky if he lost. “But
Pierre stuck to me the time I had the
ruction with those Stonies in the
Peace Hills a year ago,” the English¬
man had said, “and it is the only
chance of doing him a good turn be¬
fore I go down East. Grey Wolf will
never give his daughter to a half-breed
Cree interpreter of the mounted police
if he were offered a thousand ponies.
That Cree dash in Pierre spoils him
in the old Blood’s eyes. Pierre wants
her, though, and I think she wants
him, and, if I win this afternoon, I’ll
do the paternal ‘bless ye, my children’
act and then try and make my peace
with the Major.”
Everybody didn't know this, and
when the Englishman went up to the
Major’s party, the ladies were cool,
and the Major became interested Bay' in
his conversation with the Hudson
factor, and he slipped away under
cover of the yells and sounding tom¬
toms that announced the appearance
of the Pinto—the Indian horse. She
was a beauty as she loped past iu her
slender litheness. An Indian pony?
Yes. But in her complex nature the
old Aral) blood of her Spano-Moorish
ancestry had asserted itself and
showed iu the brightness of her eye,
the poise of her head, and the grace
of her slim legs.
The course was half a mile straight¬
away, and the two contestants moved
off to the starting point. And the
white men bet their hard cash against
the ponies and rifles and fnrs of the'
Indians, bet them to a finish—that is
when the red man has nothing left'on
earth to bet.
There was a pistol shot, a fierce yell
from civilized and savage, and they
were off. The Pinto sprang easily to
the front and seemed for the first few
hundred yards to be increasing the
lead at every stride. The trooper was
held well in hand and was going mag¬
nificently. The American knew that
the Englishman was relying on the
superior staying qualities of his half
bred horse over the grass-fed pony.
But half a mile is a short course, and
at the quarter the Englishman was
four lengths behind. The Pinto did
not falter at the terrific pace, and the
American felt that the race would be
won or lost on the home stretch. No
pony can keep that pace up on grass
alone, he thought, but she seemed to
be doing it. The troop-horse was let¬
ting himself out now, and the space
between the two was diminishing.
“Oats will tell,” muttered the Ameri¬
can, “but will he have time?”
Gradually the Englishman drew up
xrntil his horse’s nose was at the
pony’s flank. Only a hundred yards
now! The game little pony seemed to
realize that it was now or never. The
black horse of the whites was at her
quarter, and the cheers of anticipated
victory were already coming from the
white men’s throats. She gathered
herself together for a last effort, aud
as she gained a few feet there was
silence still as death in the swaying
mass of onlookers. Only fifty yards,
when the stillness was broken by a
shrill call from the lips of a young
squaw, who thrust herself a little be¬
yond the crowd that lined the course
as the galloping horses came up. No
one heeded it except the Pinto. It
was the call the pony had never dis¬
obeyed, the call it had known from the
days when, a frolicsome filly, it had
been the companion of Grey Wolf’s
daughter. For a strange understand,
ing grows up between the horse that
dwells in the tents of men and its
master or mistress. And the Pinto
heeded not the desire of victory orthe
urging or voice of its rider, but
swerved whence the voice had come.
What caused the pony to bolt was a
subject of animated discussion at
prairie stopping-places, around tepee
fires, and in Mounted Police mess
rooms for half a year. People did not
stop to discuss the auki- as the Eng¬
lishman rode in a winner, ten there
was considerable interest taken in
half a dozen Indians and squaws that
had b<en ridden down by the Pinto in
her bolt.
When the Major’s daughter was
asked to be a witness of the marriage
of Pierre and Grey Wolf’s daughter
that evening, she felt kindly towards
.the Englishman, and asked him to
dinner—which is a considerable con
descension on the part of a daughter
of a Major of the Northwest Mounted
Police. And when the ladies had left,
the Major wanted' to know what the
Englishman would take for that very
decent-looking black horse he rode.—
Field and Stream.
JIM HUTCH, THE "SKIPPER.” DEAD,'
Hired For Life by Editor Medill, He Held
HIs Job Until the Time Fxpireri.
His name was James G. Hutchins,
but all the old printers in the country
knew him as “Jim Hutch,” and the
Chicago office in which he worked for
forty years knew him as the “Skip
per.” He knew everybody’s manu¬
scripts and footprints and earmarks.
He had seen editors and city editors
and reporters and night editors and
their assistants come and go. He knew
the names of all the out-of-town cor¬
respondents. When the rush hour
came and there were but few minutes
to elapse before the last page Went
down and the air was sulphurous,
“Jim Hutch” was placid and sang
merrily and smiled. Between the first
and second editions he told stories of
the old days in the office.
When the big Chicago fire occurred
“Jim Hutch,” Tom Sullivan and Jim
Snow were working at the case. They
ceiling stayed until the plaster fell from the
and, hot an blistering, “pied
their sticks.” The next day they went
with the editor to an attic and helped
him get out the first newspaper after
the great fire. It was a typographical
curiosity and not much larger than a
sheet of letter paper, but it was the
only one in town that day.
They continued work iu the attic
until the newspaper resumed its former
size, and in larger quarters, ‘ and the
editor, Mr. Medill, said 5nd day:
“Tom Sullivan, you be forei&aif; -Jim
Hutch, you be night foreman; Jim
Snow, you take the ‘ad’ case, And
each of you hold your job aS long as
I am editor aud as long as you live,
for if I die first I shall arrange to h»ve
you stay.”
“■Jim Hutch” is the firs! to go. Jtr,
Medill is still editor of the Chicago
Tribune. Tom Sullivan is foreman.
Jim Snow has the “ad” cases.—New
York Sun.
Usjdy Blessington** Retort. '
An 'amusing but little known anec¬
dote qf the famous Countess of Bless
ingtofi has a certain appropriateness
at present, when the French Govern¬
ment is in such an unstable condition.
When Napoleon III. was living by his
wits in' London he was a frequent
guest at Gore House, where he was
most hospitably entertained by Lady
Blessington. After he became em¬
peror the “gorgeous LadyB.” being
in Paris, left her card at the Tuileries,
but no attention was paid to her. She
waited many weeks in vain, without
the slightest recognition, when it
chanced that at a great official enter¬
tainment she met the emperor, who
was absolutely unable to avoid her.
Stopping in front of the still beautiful
countess, he said somewhat cavalierly,
“What, Miladi Blessington, you in
Paris! How long do you remain?”
Lady- Blessington replied, pointedly,
“Oh, some time; and you, sire?”—
London Chronicle.
Hone llait For Bears.
It doesn't take a grizzly long to eat
up a horse. Several years, ago a guide
went on a spring bear hunt with a
Massachusetts sportsman, They
killed a horse for bait on the side of a
hill, and going to it the next morning
found that two-thirds of it had been
eaten during the night. They sat be
hind a screen of pines to watch, and
in less than an hour three fine griz¬
zlies came out from the pines and
sauntered up the hill to the bait. The
first shot the hunter fired took one of
them in the brain, and he sa".k down
without a kick, while the others sat
up on their haunches and gazed stu¬
pidly around. The next shot brained
another one, and the remaining one,
and the largest of them all, started to
run. But a hall through the heart
keeled him over, and so in less than a
minute they had three fine grizzlies,
all of good size, and wearing thick
coats of prime fur.—New York Sun.
Lions on the Increase.
In several letters received by the
mail from East Central Africa mention
is made, I am told, of the unusual
number of lions that have made their
appearance in the country. One well
huntei\ experience of
Africa ranges over many years,
that these animals are a perfect
not a night' passing without
or more of the brutes breaking
a Masai village and carrying off
or livestock. On one occasion
a lion stalked into a camp,
in spite of all that could be done,
off a Swahili porter from within
few feet of a bright watch fire, where
were men awake on guard.
Masailand is otherwis described as a
country, teeming with
of all kinds, and as healthy as
h« fox Europeans.— Birmingham \
Post. J
r
Cat* Around fcli© Barns.
The habit which many people have
of petting cats and keeping them close
by the kitchen fire very soon destroys
the hunting instinct and makes the
cat good for nothing as a mouser. On
the farm, especially, the proper place
for a cat is at the barn, where it can
make itself useful killing the mice or
rats that destroy the grain. It is a
mistake to suppose that a cat will
suffer from cold while thus employed.
Exercise will keep the blood circulat¬
ing, and the cat will be quite as warm
if kept dry as it would be dozing by
the fire, and breathing the vitiated air
that is always found near the floors of
dwellings. The cat will nsually, if
there is a chair or bed in the room,
make that her resting place.
Fertilizers For Vegetables.
Vegetables of which the leaves or
stems are to be eaten require mainly
nitrogen iu the soil, When the root
is to be eaten, phosphoric acid and
potash are equally important with ni¬
trogen. For early vegetables such as
peas, the seed being the edible por¬
tion, phosphoric acid is needed. Pot¬
ash iu the soil is the most important
iu growing celery, tomatoes aud
melons.
As a rule, vegetables are not hard
on soil, the exception being peas and
beans, but as these take most of the
needed nitrogen from the atmosphere
a portion of the expense for this in
chemical form may be saved and added
to the large quantity of potash and
phosphoric acid needed by the vege¬
tables.
For ordinary purposes, on fairly
good soil, a good mixture for a gener¬
al selection of vegetables would-be 250
pounds of sulphate of potash, 200
pounds of nitrate of soda and 400
pounds of sugar phosphate per acre,
raked or harrowed in just before the
seed is sown. For peas and beans
double the quantity of potash and
phosphoric *pid may be used, and the
quantity of nitrate of soda reduced to
fifty pounds per acre.—Atlanta Jour¬
nal.
The Passing: of Fence*.
The late William Walter Phelps ad¬
vocated taking down fences twenty
five years ago, and the good seed
sown-* then is bringing in a harvest
now through parts of New Jersey.
Twenty years ago most farmers spent
the winters getting out posts and
rails, so as to fence the farm into ten
and fifteen acre lots. Then they spent
the early spring in setting fences,
when they ought to be pushing their
spring work. The very best timber
only would be used in their construc¬
tion, which was a considerable item
on a 160-acre farm. '
Now, why all this expense? To
keep the wheat out of the meadow or
the corn out of the oat field? They
would not go in if it there were no
fence, as hasbeen proved. If it was
done for sentiment, why, that has
no standing in this busy day. But it
was done mostly in order to pasture
the cattle in the fall. YVell, progres¬
sive farmers do not pasture the cattle
on the meadows any more, as this is
known to be the quickest way in ex¬
istence to ruin good meadows. Farm¬
ers bad better keep the cattle in the
yard than on the meadows. At least
four to eight feet were given up to
the fences, bushes, hedgehogs, weeds
aud brush. This iu itself is a con¬
siderable loss on a large farm.
But these things are fast passing
away, and the fence row is plowed
up, only an imaginary line separating
the fields. Now the old road fence is
gone, too, and the field is plowed
down to the edge of the road, and a
line of hazels or elms takes the [place
of a rickety fence or a twenty-foot
hedge.—W. II. Rogers, in Country
Gentleman.
Cover For Sap Bucket*.
A good cover for sap buckets may
be made at a cost of less than one
7~
v*’
A V 1 \
:i 0
■s.
ipp'i p. ■iL,
PROTECTION FOP. THE SAP.
cent by taking a wide shingle (a),
sawing off' four inches of the tip end
and fastening to it a small spring
wire, as shown in the illustration.
The wire can be made fast to the
shingle by little staples,, or by using
a narrow cleat like a p-iece of lath.
The wire should be co^t awout thirty
inches long and will less than
half a cent. YVhen done,) spring the
tree ends firmlv.—Orange of wire apart and Judd itjwill Farmer. hug the
- s —_ ! ■- ____
Tho Best House Plaint*.
The frosty night3 necessitate the re-
mova! of plants from out of doors, and
which to select for window plants is
often quite a puzzle. Other things
being equal, those already established
in the cans or pots are the ones to
select, but a pet plant can successfully
be removed if care is taken to not
break the rcots much. Use as small
vessels as possible for the window
plants. They will bloom better and
generally do better in every way with
small root room.
If you have a south or southeast
window, and the room is warm with a
comparatively even heat, you can se¬
lect the plants you like best, but if
you have a north or a west wind t:
one must sacrifice preferences
plants that will stand a'sunless win¬
dow. Selections from the following
plants will prove satisfactory even
without sun: Jasmines, several varie¬
ties, Revolutum ‘ probably best;
the
Sanseviera Zeylanica, too much can¬
not be said ,in praise of thift plant;
primroses, Primula obconica; fuch¬
sias, Rex begonias, all begonias do
finely in east windows; and while ger¬
aniums will, not do quite as well, nor
bloom very much in north windows,
they will grow thriftily and be green
and nice, especially the ivy and scent¬
ed geraniums. The rose scented and
ivy (Joan of Arc) do better without so
much sun. Then there are wander¬
ing Jew and nasturtium for viny
growth, and kinds that will grow for
any.one,- too.
Pin paper around the plants on ex¬
tra cold nights, and move \he stand
from the window’. Do not water un¬
less necessary to prevent the leaves
wilting, daring a cold snap. The
plants will withstand the cold much
better when the dirt in the cans is not
wet.—’New England Homestead.
PRINTERS’ ODD TOOLS.
Some Appliance* Which Our Great
. Grandfathers Used,
Once in a while one hears a refer¬
ence to the sheepskin inking balls
with which our great-grandfathers in
the printing trade used to ink their
forms. ■ This’ is about the only old
tool of the trade now in disuse with
which the printers of to-day are fa¬
miliar. There were others, however,
which were more or less used at
various times that have dropped out
and been forgotten. A couple of
these have come to light, through an
old catalogue that has fallen into the
writer’s hands. One was a short
wooden galley, open on one side, and
haying clamps below, hv means of
which it might be attached to the
boxes of the upper case. Thus sup¬
ported, it was three or four inches
above the surface of the boxes, leav¬
ing room for the compositor to reach
the type without disturbing the galley.
This form of galley was probably
brought into use about the time that
printers discovered it to be a nuis¬
ance to carry the galley on the cap
case. The old plan was to lay the
caps and small caps in the four upper
rows of the cap case, and then to rest
the galley across the three lower rows,
into which there was seldom necessity
for the compositor’s hand to travel.
While the propped up gallery was un¬ laid
doubtedly better than the galley
across the cap case, the plan of plac¬
ing the galley on a disused case or on
a bank rendered it useless.
A universal stereotype block was at
oue time iu use, being made with
grooves that ran slantendicularly, or
at an angle of about forty-five degrees
to the base and side of the block. The
block was clamped in the grooves, and
was readily brought to any position.
Such a block answered very well on
hand presses, but when steam cylinder
presses came into use it proved too
unreliable, allowing the pages to slip,
and so it was discarded.
The sheepsfoot is a tool unknown iu
many modern pressrooms, and in an¬
other generation we may expect that
the shooting-stick will also have dis¬
appeared. Other tools, though al¬
tered and improved in various ways,
seem mostly to hold their own, in
spite of the many additions being
made to the list.—Printer and Book¬
maker.
Democratic.
The spirit of democracy is dominant
in Aberdeen, A little while before
the city election a candidate for an
office thought he would call on a few.
of the leading city councilors. He
hailed a cab and told the cabman to'
drive him to Councilor Bissett’s, the
treasurer.
The councilor was found in a black¬
smith’s shop shoeing a horse.
“I’ll see somebody better than this,”
said the candidate. “Drive me to
Councilor Maitland’s office.”
The cabman thereupon drove him
to the pawnbroker^. Councilor Gray’s,” he
“Drive me to
ejaculated. . replied
“I am Councilor Gray, sir,”
the cabman.—-Tit-Bits.
To Protect Lead Pencil Sketches.
The above drawings are protected
from blurring by coating them with
collodion to which two per cent, of
stearine from a good stearine candle
is added. Lay the drawing on a glass
plate or a board, and pouy the mixture
over,Jin the same manner in which the
photographer treats his plates. After
ten to twenty minutes the drawdng is
dry, and entirely is^o white, possessing. a
dull luster, and protected that it
can be washed'off with water, without
fear of injuring it.—Die Kreide. „
NO.
SCURVY MM INFANT]
Wlthiia a few years physlcia
discovered a new disease in c
It seeme to be the same as the
that attacks sailors and othi
have been forced to subsist foi
time on a monotonous diet, es
on one containing an Insufftciei
ttty of fruit# and vegetables.
Strictly speaking, this- is not
disease, but rather a uerWIy rec
one, formerly looked upon ir
cases as merely a form of ricti
fs a chronic affection, corning t s
slowly, the parents’ attention
first attracted by the fact tl..... Rj
child does not seem to thrive.
_
The baby, most commonly fit
to eighteen months old. Is pe«v!
at the same time apathetic; .
alone it makes little complal|
takes no interest in what is gc
about it, but it begins to resist! :
cry as soon as any one attempt^
ft.
It becomes pale, ceases to i
weight, or even falls off, loses • Y
petite, throws up its foofi, anc
has diarrhea. Sometimes, - hd
the appetite, Instead of falling,
becomes ravenous and th# poo’4 f
baby- oats and eata, and erlfcs foi
and still wastes away.
A
A peculiar symptom of thfi
the appearance of pear-shaped! the|
ings on the thighs and legs,
er end pointing toward the joint,
frequently these swellings, wM
due to a collection of blood
the membrane covering the hot
noticed on the arms as well, o;
on the collar-bones. Black an;?
spots of variable size appear ‘
skin of the limbs and sometim-
body.
It Is curious to note that scur
tacks the children of the th|
more frequently than those of -
The cauee of the disease is undo; .
ly proper diet, but just what
improper diet has not yet' been
ed. It occurs most frequently
dren who are fed on artificial
nursing fnfants who''have
anything hut mother’s milk som,>
a
suffer, and others who have
all their little lives by the
er have the least stg$
If the doctor is called before tl
ease Is far advanced, the
usually satisfactory. It
sentially in a change of diet, 1
times even a change to artificial t
if the child has hitherto boefi
exclusively; but this change
thing that needs Careful study, s»
will have peculiarities of its
almost every case. The
some fruit juice especially that
anges, limes or grapes, to the
is generally of great value, and i
times will effect a cure
modifications of the previous
Light and Sugar.
Professor Weber, of the Ohio
University, has made a
study of the effect of light ss a
in sugar production, and his
experiments with reference
fluenee of light on the sugar
of plants are of peculiar scteBtii
teres t. He has found, vegetation that
a long period of are \
much affected by climatic chang
cation, etc., as those of a' short
of vegetation. For the latter.
fore, the conditions named are-i
specially cared for iu order to A
the product. Higher p|
found to be better fqr sugar
tion than lower ones, other
ing equal, and the proximity
bodies of water is most
sugar production.. The
features of the Ia-nd are also
portance in locating sugar
the most convenient places to
production, in order to
jri'HKtect success.
GEORGIA RAILRO 1
MM A N D~
Connection
For Information as to Routes, I
—ulefB and Rates, Both—
Passenger and Frei
Write to either of the undersigm
Yon will receive prompt repl
reliable information.
JOE. W. WHITE, A. G. JACi
T. P. A. n
YAngTista, Ga
8. W. WILKES, H. K. NICHQ
C. F. & P- A. G. A,
Atlanta. A
W. W. HARDWICK, S. E.
S. A. C,
Macon. ■
M. R. HUDSON, f. w. cq 3t\
S. F. A. & F.
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