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be finnrln Ho Mu ■;m .)v f - II r ^ kS A L ' : VOL. VI. An Infant in its cradle slept. And And in its sleep it smiled— To one by one three women knelt M kiss the falr-halred child; • ^ And each thought of the days to be And breathed a prayer half silently. One poured her love on many lives, But knew love’s toil and care; Its burdens oft had been to her A heavy weight to bear; She •Not stooped hardened and hands, murmured dear lovingly, thee.” child, “A VERY NARROW ESCAPE.” BY HELEN FOBBEST GRAVES. ' THINK, mem,” -fit said S al i n a, “there's a man in the wood-shed, a 0; {Ji hiding hisself.” 1*4 “No n s e n s el” said Fanny Clif¬ ford, who was too ) much accustomed to Salina’s sights and mysteries to pay muoh attention to them. “Who should be in the wood-shed? and what should he be there for?” “For no good mem, you may be very sure,” said Salma compressing ter ! pS ; E a U fc 1 P ttel ', g0 over to Mifton - s and borrow u their big og “Certainly not! said .. Fanny, T , , lean . ba ° k that ™ YA, last blue aU ' splash , T on 6 the R petals of the ins that she was painting m water colors. 'You said there was a tramp hidden in the coal-cellar last week; and day before yesterday you had Mrs. Mitton s hired man up with a lantern to go. through the barn, be cause you were certain some one was * i5ere ’ “And I’m certain of it now, mem,” said Salina, standing very straight, with her elbows tightly grasped in both hands. “But Josiab, he’s that stupid, a coach-and-four could ha’ driven out before him mysterious and he not sounds see it. AnR as lor the in the coal-cellar, mem, how was I to know that it was the cat knockin down six hyacinth-glasses? Noise is noise, whoever makes it. But this time, mem, I’m morally certain.” “Oh, don’t tease me!” said Fanny, adding a touch more of ultra-marine to the extremest edge of her flower. A “We may be all murdered iu our gloomily observed Salina, “with Mrs, Dedbrook’s diamonds in the house; and I’m most sure the letter which told you they was to be sent here was tampered with!” “Oh, Saliua, don’t be so ridiculous!” said Fanny. Mr. George ain’t y “You know a comin’ home to-night,” added Salina. “Why, of course I know it! Didn’t you hear him tell me so?” retorted her mistress, .“And me, and you, aud Miss Abby isf all alone in the house!” persisted ’-'life woman. ’ “Yes,” said Fanny, absently. “Salina, you may make us a little chocolate for supper, and broil those trout Mr. George brought in; and as it’s a chilly evening, Salina, we will have some nicely browned griddle cakes, with maple syrup. ” V Salina tossed her head. f “Well, mem, just as you please,” said she. “Only don’t say as you haven’t been warned.” “No, Salina, I won’t,” said Miss with indifference. The two Misses Cliftord and then Brother had remained longer at the old stone house than usual, this .autumn. Ordinarily it had been then home for the three summer months ever since old Uncle Griftth Griffiland had died, and bequeathed it to them. ■The furniture was old; the odd little three-cornered rooms were small and inconvenient; large pine trees shut • put the daylight from the lozenge Shape windows; but in spite ox all jbhese disadvantages the air of ‘ an . lingered around the ctuntry” that place was very enticing, and George Clifford decided that he could do his writing at Tower Pines as well as in the city; while Fanny and Abby, a brace of very enthusiastic young ar tists, delighted in a circular-walled studio, where they could have a fire in the great, open chimney-place, and there was a north window overlooking the" distant shimmer of the sea. So here they were, now that the chiu -winds of early November were shak ing the last brown leaves off the trees, to the infinite disgust of Salina, the superstitious, who much preferred a city flat. Tbat domestic damsel had just van bed down the winding stairs, which /Ae deckred were destined some time or ocher to be the death ol her, i «-bro.vn eje., and . tap »•»** her lelt arm. It was too dark to work longer upon the blue irises, and Fanny was sitting in a reverie before the red glow of the **• si8 “ THREE PRAYERS. One had not known the burdened hands, But knew the empty heart: At life’s rich banquet she had sat, An unfed guest, apnrt; “Oh not,” she whispered tenderly, “An empty heart, dear child, for thee.’ And one was old; she had known care, •She had known loneliness; She knew God leads us by.no path His presence cannot bless; She smiled and murmured trustfully, “God’s will, dear ohild, God’s will"for tbee!” —Kate Tucker Goode, in the Alkahest. “I’ve got it, Fan!” said Abby, wav¬ ing the bundle around in the air. “The whole suit, complete, with the dearest old canvas hat into the bar¬ gain. They used to belong to Mr. Mifton’s uncle, who was a whaler, and finally died at sea-—his Sundav suit.” “Is it too late to dress him up?” said Fanny, with animation. “But he’s down in the library.” “Well, we’ll go there,” said Fanny. “We can work there as well as in the studio; and we shall run less risk of Salina’s interference. Salina never can forge t that we are no longer little girIs of teu and twelve .» The supper served up * in the little vonnd room) before th dying gleam of the logs, was exceptionally nice, Fanny and Abby were in exuberant s P irits - and Poised the chocolate, trout and griddle cakes with enthu siasm . Salina was as lo as prophetess » T only hope we shal] get through this night alive,” said she. But as she bad made the same mark> on an average, three hundred out of the three hundred and sixty five days of the year, neither Fanny nor Abby paid much attention to it. But as she passed out, with the last dish from the table, Salina paused close to Fanny Clifford, and asked, in a sepulchral whisper: ‘ ‘ 'I 1 Hey 'are i n ’ SycTe s k ? ” said. Fanny, indifferently. Salina lifted her eyes skyward. “In your desk?” she groaned. Hadn’t I better take ’em and put ’em d nder my pillow?” “Certainly not,” her young mistress answered, sharply. “Do, Salina, leave me to manage my own affairs'!” And Salina vanished in a liuff. “I'll'go to bed early,”''she ain’t said grimly, to herself. “It no use settin.’ up to look arter the goods of people as won’t take no trouble for themselves.” But just as she was about to ascend, with a candle, Lady Macbeth like, to her.room, she suddenly paused. “Then three hemstitched haudke chers o’ mine are out on the grass, a bleaching,” she said to herself. “And the black clouds in the west mean wind. I don’t want themhandkechers blowed away. I’ll go out and fetch ’em in.” Carefully unbolting three bolts and unlocking one ponderous lock, Salina sallied forth, shading the candle with her hand;.but the first puff jof freezing, pine-perfumed air blew the little flame out. Undaunted hy this mishap, liow ever Salina went valiantly oat, feel j ng ber way through the cloudy star j- bt until she was opposite the wood shed. “I guess I’ll go in and cross over tbat Avay >• sbe thought. Bu t as she was turning in the in tended direction a light suddenly dasbed ou t—the reddish glow of a tantern> tbat waa almost instantly ob scured by the alide . “Gracious!” thought Salina, step • bao k, in her terror and amazement. , “0 on f ound you!” muttered a gruff Toiee _ the identical voice of Mifton’s b j red man _ “Wbat did you want to sbow a ii gb t for?” “The slide was rusty,” apologized a secoad TO j ce . < ‘it don’t matter—there is no one but oa ts and grasshoppers to ge0 ufJ The last window was dark ened j Come on; Vm flt to rish w f th cold and cramp i a that outlandish hole. Let’s get the matter over w itb.” Aad wb ;i e Salina was striving to overcome the terrible weight on her cbest sufficiently to cry out or make some sign, two dark figures slunk past ber like the procession in a hideous dream 4-hich and vanifbed through a cellar doori she could have sworn she bad sa f e ]y J secured .early in the even - * Eecoveri her senses as fast as she could she hurried through the long, ’ f the two help sg t0 the rescue 0 b ^ in tbe old bouse . « I alway3 knoW ed it would bo so,” ht _ 4 . 0h dear _oh, dear; it car*-~-*-*« rith m 4,10 iSEgta do .vnna 0 g to P of »n old grape-vine and nearly wrenched it oi of joint, But at last she reached the • green space m fi out of one ooi, j 1 ttumbitos £ “To thine own self be true,and it will follow, as night the day, thou cans’tnot then be false to any man, ” LINCOLNTON, GA.. THUKSDAV, MARCH 2,1899. ping their lantern in their frantic haste. “You fool!” muttered the man who had carried the light," “why didn’t you tell me there was a man about the place—a great, burly sailor, with a cutlass half as long as himself? You told me the coast was clear!” “As I live and breathe,” whined Mifton’s hired man, “I never knew of the fellow; I don’t know how he came there; I can’t understand it at all; I - ” “Don’t stand here fooling,” savage¬ ly uttered the other, “The whole neighborhood will be in an uproar directly. Clear out! Through the shed is the best place!” But Salina was too prompt for them. Before they could escape she had securely locked and bolted both the shed doors on the outside and fastened the solid shutters of its soli¬ tary window. And then she rushed to the house and ran shrieking up the stairway to where Abby and Fanny, with shivering forms, stood on the landing. “Salina, what is it?" cried Fanny. “What is it, Salina?” reiterated Abby. “We’re all robbed and murdered!” screamed Saliha. “That is, we would have been, if it hadn’t been for that sailor with the cutlass. And how he ever made his way into the house it beats me to tell.’’ Abby and Fanny burst into hysteri¬ cal laughter. “It’s the model,” aaid Fanny. The lay figure dressed up as a sail¬ or in old Deodatus Mifton’s Sunday clothes, with the rusty sword that be¬ longed to the suit of armor,” breathed Abby. “Down in the library we ar¬ ranged him to-night so that we could begin to sketch him for our naval battle scene early to-morrow,” “Well I never!” said Salina. “I do b’lieve he’s saved our lives; they thought he was alive aud was half scared to death. Now I’m a-goin’ 1 to ring the big bell for help." And a rusted bell, which had hung out of the window for half a hundred years, ready to be rung in some such possible emergency as this, presently flung forth its deep-toned warning in the silence of the November night, pulled by Salina’s energetic arms. • Aid arrived in a marveks Tver's Xpf prison. ing until Old they Squire could Be^||g^ Mifton, wlh. ... more amazed than any one else, at the novel accomplishment dev^lopqd Aie *by his hired man, remained at lonely house all night, to protect the two young ^artists and laughed very .heart¬ ily when he saw the naval dummy which had served so good a turn in frightening off the oowardly thieves. George Clifford resolved not; to leave his sisters alone again until the removal to the New York flat was an accomplished fact. As for Salina, she had now a valid excuse to traverse the whole house with a lantern two or three times a night whenever she pleased, and set np a watch dog and' a burglar alarm. ' •: “It was a very narrow escape,” said _ Salina, “and there’s no tellin’ when it may happen again.” — Saturday Night. Tlie Turtle Came Back. It is a superstition of some impor¬ tance among the Chinese that he who saves a turtle and allows it to go free upon the sea will enjoy good fortune. In accordance with this practice,; a wealthy Macao bought a turtle tlyis morning from a Malay fisherman, who had caught it in his fishing stakes off Tanjong Tokong. The price was $5. The purchaser Droceeded to scrape the back of the turtle so as to prepare an even surface for his name to be engraved upon the shell, when he discovered his name already engraved on the animal’s baek, and then re¬ membered he had made a consignment to the sea some months before, The turtle was therefore his own property, and he at once pursued the Malay and claimed a return of the $5. The fish¬ erman declined, and the Macao was obliged to content himself with the recovery of the turtle, which he forth¬ with, iu his rage, proceeded to kill, as being the cause of a loss to him of $5.—Pinang (China) Gazette. ^ lk!l K * K "i at,0 “"* A set of regulations, intended , to distinguish the Sikhs of India lrre voeably from those around them, was the rule of the Five Kakkas. Every Sikh must have with him five things beginning with the letter k, viz.: kesa (long hair), kangha (a comb), karada (a knife), kirapana (a sword), and kacha (breeches reaching to the knee). The purpose of these rules was that every Sikh should avoidshaving, as do i Mohammedans and Hindus, and should be constantly armed and free from the long garments that might im ped ai m m a flglit. GoM-uearinc Gizzard or a Duck. Frank Kentledge, who with several friends has leased the shooting rights 0 n a ranch facing the Columbia River i&rvxzz g.Wd of'.aid(hot a»<l bin it on .kihiHon ‘ The sold is probably worth Eoutled^e ^chTne in going ami g ° hat°duck baok to . , t s&m* Irrigation For Fruit. I believe that apple and plum trees will bear full crops every year if they are amply supplied with water and manure. Two years ago I put up a wind pump for irrigating which raised 120 barrels of water an hour in a good breeze. Having plenty of water at hand T put 10,000 barrels of water on half an acre of plum orchard and about the same amount on the apple orchard. I had a large crop of both kinds of fruit that year. This season, where I irrigated moss the previous one, I had a full crop of plums and where I irrigated least only a few. Where I did not irrigate I had nothing at all. It is exactly the same with the apples. My orchard land is pure sand. In dry seasons it suffers very muoh from drouth, the plums and apples falling off badly.—Henry Wade, of Nova Scotia, in Orange Judd Farmer. Farming From Experience. Every farmer learns much each year about his business by the ex¬ perience he gains. It is the most valuable knowledge, provided the farmer has learned to discriminate as to the true cause of success or failure. It will at least teach twice the capacity of his own soil and location. While farmers read with interest what other farmers have done in other localities, it does not affect them as does de¬ cided success or failure in their own neighborhood. What one man in any do locality has done others may also if they have like soil and condi¬ tions. Almost all the special crops that are grown in certain neighbor¬ hoods are the result of experiments made at first with much doubt, but when proved a success, inciting others to imitate the example. In such case the pioneer who introduces such crops benefits the entire neighborhood quite as much as himself. He is not injured by the competition of his neighbors, for whatever the farmer gr^rs there is sure'to be so large a for ^ production of a |HM®fe|ite|&.fi 2 ipha 8 er 8 from a : scale, if'jpyviP cannot fatter create on such how rlii a hfmemarket.— American Cultivator. A Portable Fence. Iu locations where fences are neces¬ sary for keeping pigs or sheep within bounds or for enclosing small areas of land the portable fence here illustra¬ ted is a great convenience. This fence is made of boards or slats, and the best material is cheapest both for posts and slats. The panels are eight feet long, nailed to uprights two inches square. The tops of the uprights are beveled so that they join closely together when the spread at the bot- 1 A CHEAP AND USEFUL FENCE. tom is as desired. The fence may be made with three, four or five boards, according to the use to which it is to be put. In making a three-board fence, if a barbed .wire is used at the top, two feet spread at the bottom will be sufficient, though for a taller fence two and a half feet spread will be bet¬ ter. In setting the fence in a location where high winds prevail, a stake may be driven in the ground at every third or fourth panel, set so that it will come flat against the boards and be nailed iu that position. By placing the ground lower hoard fifteen inches from the and plowing a furrow each side of the fence, banking it up to the board, tewer slats will be required. This ar¬ rangement leaves a depression about eight inches deep three feet from the fence on either side of it, into whioh the animal’s forefeet will go,and place him in a position where he cannot readily jump.—Atlanta .Journal. For Spring Chickens, Q ur modern methods of living are changing our farming in many par Oculars. The demand is now for eal .j y a p r ing lamb and ehickena in p ebrnary aud March. Early spring cb i ckens bav e to be raised in the w j aker seasoD) and to do this requires „ cer tain expert knowledge that is the pric0 of sucoesg , Sp ing chi ke at fifty cents a are profitable, and even at much less than this one can find money in the business. Besides, it gives the poultry grower work to do at what is generally considered a azy season of .k etisk to th. bo.t.u tr.ckfI are the ..a j I who never make a But great deal out will o-. their enterprise. every one chick not succeed in raising spring ens, and it is well that this is so, for overdone. It takes shrewd bnsines tact, exact knowledge, to make the work profitable. In the first place one must have a warm house suitable for the chickens. It does not take a large one to accom¬ modate 100 chickens, but it must be warm, well ventilated aud even in temperature. This is the first,re¬ quisite. The house should be located so that it will receive the sun through the glass most of the day. The sit¬ ters must be selected for their success in hatching eggs, and those that show an inclination to neglect the eggs should be discarded. The sitters must be fed separately when off the uest so they will not be bothered and worried by the others. The sitting house should be darker than the main room, and the nests should be arranged in rows. Each hen will learn to know her own nest. Water as well as food must be provided the hens daily. When the chicks are hatched they must be kept together in small colonies free from cold winds and storms. They must be kept grow¬ ing all the time, and good food, water and clean surroundings will accomplish this. Warm mush, bread, oatmeal and scraps from the table should be their chief daily diet. New hatchings should be made all of the time, so that younger chicks will take the place of those sent to market. It is astonish¬ ing how many can be raised in a small house by hatching out new broods every two weeks, and by spring one will find more profit than can be made from the old chickens all through the year; A CACTUS C HRIST MAS TREE. Used by One of Our Ite&rituents Stationed Near Havana. There is soiftething strangely pa¬ thetic in the news that one of our regiments stationed near Havana used a big cactus as a Christmas tree, and hung presents on the ungainly plant’s cruel spines. Of course the cactus is admirable in its way—admirable as showing Skillful adaptation to the un¬ toward circumstances of rocky soiL and a burning sun; but the cactus is not beautiful or graceful, and its asso¬ ciations are all heathenish, savage, and uncomfortable. The real Christ¬ mas tree iB always a fir, though hem¬ lock, spruces, cedars, and even pities who impaled their gifts on the thorns of one of the sprawling monsters must have been very homesick indeed when they did it. All trees in the tropics pretend to be evergreen, 1 but it is a pretense that deceives nobody who ever saw a Northern forest, and no wonder our exiles rejected trees alto¬ gether. They chose a vegetable 'that isn’t one thing or another, that .'jum¬ bles stem and leaf into a single un¬ couth device for storing water, and fiercely resents the approach of man or beast. It showed that the men were unwilling to compromise with their ideals; and that, having no tree worthy of this honor, they preferred to emphasized their appreciation of that fact by constraining an obstinate anomoly to play a genial role for once. It must be said for the cacti that many of them have gorgeous flowers, and one species provides a beverage that is regarded in some lands aB potable —it at least brings forgetfulness of Spanish rule and that of military dic¬ tators—while other kinds lead to the very permanent investment of foreign capital in fibre-extracting machinery. But the cactus as a Christmas tree! This is heart-breaking.—New York Times. Overcrowding: in London. A correspondent writes to us to say that the last report of the Housing Committee very gravely understates the urgency of the housing problem in London: He gives the following startling figures: that in 1891 the “The report says census discloses that 214,843 persons lived in one-roomed tenements. This is minimizing the evil with a ven¬ geance. There were 386,489 so hor riblv crowded. The report says that 128,000 persons lived from four to twelve in a room. This. true of one-roomed tenements, but other ten¬ ements were equally crowded, and the census proved that no less than 184,800 persons lived from four to twelve and even seventeen to a room. Further, the census disclosed that there were no less than 1,750,000 who lived in tenements containing one or two, and in no ease more than three rooms to each family of from one to twelve, and that over 2,000,000 lived in an overcrowded condition.” These figures are appalling, but even if they exceed the truth, there can be little doubt that the action resolved on by the Council will come not a day too soon. A Portland Wreck Story. Here’s another coincidence with the loss of the Portland. A sea cap¬ tain tells thaf right after the steamer was built he was given a large picture of her. It was framed and covered with glass and quite heavy. He hung it in his parlor and never took it down (luring these years. The Sun¬ day when the Portland w-ent. down he and his wife were sitting in the parlor reading, when suddenly the picture fell with a crasn, smashing the glass into a thousand pieces.—Portland . (Me.) Express. ................. NO. 39. SPANIARDS SHOT WOUNDED. . *>•; The Dressing Station at the Bloody Ford of San Juan. As the wounded lay under the low, sheltering bank at the ford of the San Juan during the charge up the hill, the bullets came singing incessantly by, with a sound something like the quick momentary hum of a large mos¬ quito, clipping the leaves from th« trees in their flight, and allowing them slowly to flutter down in the faces ot . the men; then splashing into the credit would bury themselves in its bed. At times they fell so thickly for short in¬ tervals that it appeared ns though it were raining. To vary the excitement an occasional shrapnel would comt tearing through the trees above ua, smashing limbs, and dropping splint! ers and branches all about us. Men coming up the road from the rear t< join the firing-line were frequently wounded right in the creek whllt crossing it, aud it was often necessary to wade out and get them before they Crowned, as many of them surely would have done otherwise. Now and then a wounded horse would plungs through the station; and one poor ani¬ mal, bleeding profusely from his side, dropped half way across the creek; and drowned and bled to death sim¬ ultaneously. His struggles to gain q footing and keep his head above watet were pitiful to see. A number of tin staff and field horses were killed closq by the station. Some dropped dead is their tracks; others, frantic, plunged and broke their halters and disappear¬ ed in the brush to die. To add to tb» feeling of insecurity about this place} it was but a very short time befor* shots very close at hand were heard from time to time, and bullets fell among us, apparently from above and behind us. There was no natural pro¬ tection from that side, and the only solution of this problem that we could arrive at was that we were being shot at from the trees. There were sev¬ eral very large ones with dense foli¬ age close by. Such, we found after¬ wards, was really the case. We wer* being made targets of by the Spanish sharp-shooters. It was quite a iasK to reassure the wounded that they were in no danger where they were ti they would only lie quietly. After it* . any signs of life in them, at . sionaliy pointed out to one anothei what they thought were living being* hidden in the foliage.—Captain. Georg* J. Newgarden, in Harper’s Weekly. Wuol lor bflglaad. Every year between 480,000.000 and 500,000,000 founds of Australian wool are imported into Gvaat Britain. There are also imports from South Africa. South America and other countries, making the total annual importation about 800.000,000 pounds. More than half of this vast quantity of raw ma¬ terial is retained for home manufne- - ture, but we let more than half the colonial wool go abroad. The Austra¬ lian wools are among the finest, and are much sought after hy Continental manufacturers, Every country, al most every district, has its own kind of wool. It depends on breed and cli¬ mate, the character of the country, and the mature of the pasturage. The dry climate and short herbage of the Australian colonies produce the finest fleeces. Wool vomes from the prairies of South America full of burrs, and a coarse quality is produced in South Africa. The condition of the wool as imported is also, of course, a prime element in price, which depends oa whether it is “greasy” or “scoured,” ‘skirt.v’ or stringy, fatty or earthy. The wants of manufacturers are as varied as the qualities of wool. Buyers at the exchange know exactly what they want, and can estimate to a nicety what they ought to pay for It.-Good Words. The monkey wrench gets its name from its inventor, Thomas Monkey of Bordentown. N. J. GEORGIA RAILROAD. ..A IX I> Connections. For Information as to Routes, Sohed* —ules and Rates, Both— Passenger and Freight Write to either of the undersigned. You will receive prompt reply »n< reliable information. JOE. W. WHITE, A. G. JACKSON, T. P. A. G. P. A. Augusta, Gro S. W. WILKES, H. K. NICHOLSON, C. F. & P. A. G. A. Atlanta. Athene. W. W. HARDWICK, S. E. MAGILt* S. A. C, F. A. Macon. Macon. . HUDSON, F. W. COFFIN, ■M M. R. F. P. A. S. F. A. S. & | JdiUedgeTiU* Augusta. , m m 43S