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VOL. VI.
EBB-TIDE/
A sodden reach of wide and wind-swept lea,
A sky of shattered steel that pails the sight,
And one long shaft of sun that seems to write
Vast letters slowly on a slate of sea; ]
The drenry wail of gulls that skim the crest ;
Of sullen breakers sliding in to land, j
A world grown empty, full of vague unrest,
And shadow-shapes that stride across the sand. [
beach widens. Foot by foot i
The gray appear
Strange forms of wreckage creoptng from the waves,
Like ghosts that stealin silence from their graves
To watch beside the death-bou of the year;
Poor shattered shapes of ships that once stood out
Full-freighted to the far horizon’s sweep
To music of the cheery sailor-shout
Of men who sought the wonders of the dcepl
Poor shattered ships! Their gallant cruising o’er, "
,
Their cargoes coral-crusted leagues below,
They rise, unnamed, unnumbered, from the slow
Recession of the ebb along theshore.
The llcklo tide that bore them bravely then
Betrays their shame and nakedness to be s
Mute witness to the littleness of men
Who battle with the sovereignty oi sea.
For me, as well, alone upon the dune,
There sinks a tide that strips tie beaches bare,
And leaves but grim unsightly wreckage where
The brooding skies make mockery of noon,
Ah. denr, that hopes, like tides, should ebb away,
Unmasking on the naked shore of love
Flotsam and jetsam of a happier day, thereof!
Dreams wrecked, and all the emptiness Magazine.
—Guy Wetmore Carryl, in Harper’s
By SIDFORD F. HAMP.
T the time I was
foreman for Mason
, & Jevons, wool
growers—so said
the • old managing
Sk director of a
U famous ranch com¬
pany-young Wal¬
ter Mason came
8 iiiif West for his first
visit. He was a
pale boy of fifteen,
i |f|ISr nephew in senior sent the from partner, East, to his under home the and
the doctor’s orders, to live iu the open
air for a couple of years.
There were no comforts or con¬
veniences about sheep-camps in those
days. A bunk-house and kitchen,
with all the furniture home-made ex¬
cept the cooking apparatus; and some
rough shelter for the sheep a
stable for the horses were generally
the only buildings, and these were
.ipt-to Tbv oct Jowu in bodio li/tlIotv of
the bare, brown plain, to bake like
ovens under tie summer sun and
to shake in the cold blasts of January.
Mason & Jevons had a lot of such
camps, but the home ranch, on the
Deep Arroyo, was a more pretentious
place. There my men aud I had a
tive-roomeil house, about pasture
enough for two cows, and a small
garden, “under ditch,” for the grow¬
ing of potatoes and such luxuries.
We thought the place a wonder of
comfort,but the sudden change from a
good city home to a sheep-camp, with
its. extremoly early hours, its very
plain fare and still plainer cooking,
was rather trying to Walter; but he
never made the least bit of complaint,
not he. He fell into the ranks at
once, and although he was not re¬
quired to work, he set about learhing
the details of sheep-raising by doing
everything with his own hands.
Before a year was over the outdoor
life had turned his muscles into steel
and burned his face to a brick red;
still, he was only a hoy, and could not
bo expected to compete with the
seasoned men in an ordinary day’s
work. And yet, for all that, he would
coma in brisk and smiling at the end
of a long day’s lamb-herding, when
some of the older hands were used up.
• This puzzled the men, for they had
been generally inclined to laugh at the
boy as a “tenderfoot.” The explana¬
tion really was that Walter never lost
his temper in dealing with the pro¬
voking, scampering, silly lambs. Now
few things are more exhausting than
total loss of temper—especially
when it is lost for fifteen hours a day
—and that is the usual misfortune of
lamb-herders.
Walter spent most of his leisure
time upon a superannuated rifle, cow-pony, but it
shooting at coyotes with a
was months before he hit one. The
coyote, although he always turns
“broadside on” and gives the marks¬
man the best chance he can, is a bad
target; his thick fur makes him look
much larger than lie really is. Walter
fired away cartridges by the box in
vain.
But his failures only inspired him
to try again, until at length he became
an uncommonly good shot.
The men, to whom coyotes used were
familiar, unini eresting things, to
laugh at Walter’s persistent hunting.
They dubbed him “Woolly Walter:
The Dread Death-Dealer of the Deep
Arroyo,” and were always anxious to
know when he intended to go off and
kill a few Indians.
“Don’t be afraid of Indians,” the
boy would say, bantering the men in
his turn. “If any of them ever come
prowling round while I’m here I’ll
stand them off.” The promise was
made in fun, but he kept it in earn
est.
During the boy’s second summer,
after shearing time, my daughter,
Sallv, came out from town, where she
was" at school, to pay me a mouth’s
visit. When the day came for her re
turn, nobody could be spared to drive
‘To thine own self be true,and it will follow, as night the day, thou cans’t not then be false to any Bran.”
LINCOLNTON, GA.. THURSDAY, MAY 4. 1899.
her to the railroad but Walter. I had
intended to go, but John Hansford, a
wool-dealer, had sent word that he
was coming that day.
Walter was much pleased to tako
my place, for he aud Sally were great
friends, and with only one road to
follow, there was no fear of missing
the way. So, very soon after sunrise,
the girl and boy set out on their forty
mile drive to catch a train which was
to leave Plattville at five that even¬
ing.
About two hours after they had left,
and a good deal earlier than I expected
him, J'ohu Hansford rode up, and
without waiting to shake hands or to
get off his horse, said:
“Martin, you had better call your
herders into camp mighty quick.
They say, down at Truebury’s, that a
small band of bad Indians is knocking
about the country somewhere north
of here. They've killed a Mexican
herder aud burnt his cabin, and now
they’ve crossed the railroad coming
this way. ”
I lost no time. “Dick Taylor!” I
shouted, and out ran the cook, the
only other man on the place at that
time “Saddle of day.
up—hurry,” I said, “there
are Indians betwixt here and the rail¬
road, We must gallop to overtake
Sally and Walter.”
With his paper cap on his head and
his hands covered with dough, Dick
rushed with me to the stable; out
came the horses; on went the saddles,
and iu less than five minutes we three,
all well armed, were galloping north¬
ward.
Meanwhile Walter aud Sally had
traveled some fifteen miles. They
were jogging along, laughing and
chattering and watching the shifting
mirages which are always to be seen
at that time of year, when my girl
cried out:
“Oh, look! There’s a funny one!
Then Walter saw what appeared to be
the legs of live horses trotting along a
foot from the ground.
Presently the scene changed, the
horses’ legs vanished, aud the young¬
sters saw the heads and shoulders of
five men, large and undefined, sailing
through the air. Sally told me after"
ward that this frightened her.
Suddenly the mirage cleared, and
the girl and boy saw, about two miles
to the northwest, live horsemen, one
behind the other. They were riding
as if to intercept the wagon, and there
was something very unusual in their
appearance. Walter pulled up and
took out his field-glass.
“I don’t like the looks of them,”
said he. “They aren’t cowboys;
they’ve no hats, aud I think no saddles.
I’m afraid they’re Indians. ”
“Turn back,” said Sally, “aud then
we shall know if they’re trying to cut
us off, ”
“That’s sensible,” said Walter, and
turned at once.
The riders immediately broke into
a hard gallop, and headed straight for
the wagon. Walter urged his horse
to a trot, and then the desperate race
began.
Fifteen miles of level plain lay be¬
tween the team and the home ranch.
Could the horses hold out? At first
Walter tried trotting, but the gallop¬
ing Indians gained so much in the
first mile that he lashed his team into
a run.
But ivhat chance, in that race for life,
had two steady old ranch-horses hitched
to a heavy road wagon? Though they
began with two miles’ start, the light
footed Iudian ponies came up so fast
that my girl, as she turned her head
to watch them, could soou distinguish
the forms. They grew from dark
patches to definite figures of men on
running beasts. Sally could make out
the heads, arms, and flying hair of the
Indians, the heads of the ponies and
their moving legs.
“They re gaining fast, Walter,” she
cried,
Walter didn’t iook at her then. Her
voice had been jolted out of her by the
I bumping wagon, aud bethought it was
all of a tremble. He just stood up in
the bouncing, rattling wagon and stared
round the sky-line.
He had some hope that he might would see
other riders, and if he did he
head for them; though that wasn’t the
principal thing in his mind. But
there was not a living figure clear
against the blue or dim against the
plain—nothing but the bare, burnt
prairie and the gray streak of road.
“It’s all right, Sally,” cried the boy,
not looking down at her, for ho feared
she would go into hysterics, as he had
once seen an Eastern girl do, “It’s
all right, Sally; we’ll beat them yet,”
At that my girl laughed.
“I guess,” she said, “you’re not
such a tender foot as they call you.”
She told me that he stared down at
her in surprise for a moment, and then
changed his tune and took her right
into his confidence.
“I’m looking for a good place to
fight,” he said. “We can’t get away
from them by running. But we must
keep on until we see some cover within
rsflchi **
“Cover!” said Sally, “We’ll be
better off in the open if it comes to
shooting. They’ll crawl up to you
through the cover—that is, if it’s more
than just a hush or two,” for you see,
Sally hadn’t been born on the plains
without learning a good deal about
Indian-fighting. cried
“Well, that’s a fact,” Walter
out. ‘But— Hello! what’s that?” and
Sally stood up and clutched hold of
him, aud they both stared while the
old horses raced onward.
“It’s water—it’s no mirage,” said
Walter.
“Yes, it’s real water,” said Sally.
“There’s a hollow there and the
thunder-storm’s filled it.
“Must bo pretty shallow,” said
Walter, an idea jumping into his
head.
He didn’t ask Sally’s opinion this
time, but, man fashion, he took his
chances.
“Sit down and hold on tight, Sally,”
was all he said.
With that he turned out of the road,
whipped the horses into their best
gallop and drove straight for the water,
which was a shallow pond about three
hundred yards wide and four or five ! j
times as long. the
Maybe it was the sight of water
that encouraged the ranch-horses;
anyway, they kept the pace so well
that the Indians were still more than-i
half a milo behind when the horses"
splashed into the pond and ■ wefts*
brought to a walk. Walter drove
them straight forward until water be¬
gan coming into the wagon-box.
Thon he turned the wagon broadside
to the Indians.
Sally and the boy were now about
a third of the way across the pond,
and they had entered it about midway
between its ends. This suited Wal¬
ter’s plan exaetly; he set the brake
hard so that his horses couldn’t move
the wagon against his will, hung his
cartridge-belt about his neck, jumped
into the water, helped Sally down be¬
side him, pulled her little trunk over
so that it concealed and protected
her, and then took his rifle and stood
ready. will that
If you will think, you see
he had a pretty good fortification.
The wagon-box was between him and
the Indian's; the enemy couldmeither
ride fast nor run on foot fast out to
where the boy and girl stood more
than waist-deep; they were half under
water, and their heads and chests were
well defended by the wagon-box and
the trunk; there were only five In¬
dians and these could not get near
enough to shoot without offering a far
better mark themselves.
The plain afforded no cover for the
redskins—nothing but some scattered
bunches of grass and a soapweed here
and there. Sally understood the sit¬
uation at a glance. Indian-fight
“Well, you’ve got an said,
er’s head on you, Waiter,” she
approvingly. where
“I guess we’ve got them we
want them,” said Walter, for a boy
that could knock over a coyote five
times in seven couldn’t expect to miss
Indians.
“I think so,” says Sally. “They
can’t get within shooting distance at
either end of this pond; they can’t
come in where we did without your
hitting them, aud if they wade across
out of range and try to take us at the
back, all we’ve got to do is to cross
to the other side of the wagon, and
then they’re in more danger than they
were before.”
“I think it’s all right,” said Walter.
On came the Indians, almost up to
the edge of the pool. Walter was in¬
tending to disable the foremost one
the moment his pony’s hoofs splashed,
when the whole five suddenly swerved
to the right. Then, as if with one
motion, every Indian vanished behind
the body of his pony, apparently
leaving nothing for Walter to shoot at
except the soles of five left feet. But
the boy was not unnerved by this
manoeuvre. He fired, and down went
the foremost pony.
The instant the rider was on his
feet Walter covered him with his
Winchester; bnt Walter was not
anxious to shoot any Indians, for he
knew that he could defend Sally with¬
out doing so, as he now saw something
! moving on the plain—something of
j which the Indians were not one bit
aware.
| “Look toward the west, said Wal-
1 ter to Sallv. '*
‘‘I see,” said Sally, and her eyes !
8#3VFr?4J Indians Would just wait and watch, s us
till we would have to leave this cold
water. Now they’ll have no time to
wait until we’re frozen out.”
Meantime the second Indian had
come np, taken the unhorsed man be¬
hind him, and galloped out of range
with the others. Walter let them go un¬
harmed. For the aspect of affairs had
changed—a good deal more, too, than
the Indians knew.
The redskins held a brief consulta¬
tion at a safe distance; then one rode
toward one end of the pool, and an¬
other toward the other end, while the
three began crawling from
bunch to bunch of grass toward the
wagon. This did not iook so danger¬
ous to the besieged as the Indians
probably ^supposed.
“That’s all very fine,” said Walter,
when he noted this manoeuvre, “but
they haven’t got half enough time to
get us surrounded. However, I’ll
have to attend to the crawling ones.
Sally, will you just keep your eye on
the two on horseback, and tell me to
look when they stop,”
So Sally walked out a few yards,
stooping as she waded, so that the
water was over her shoulders, until
the wagon and horses no longer inter¬
cepted her view. There she crouched,
with.just her head out, and watched
the proceedings, and grew exultant
and confident as she saw what the lu
dians didn’t eveu suspect.
While she was keeping her lookout,
Walter was making the crawling In¬
dians very uncomfortable by drop¬
ping bullets close to them. He wasn’t
trying to hit them; his hope was to
keep them crawling or lying, so that
fkey would not rise and see what was
coming. There they lay very flat, aud
moving with extreme caution until
Sally cried out: “Walter, they’ve
turned back! No, they’re galloping
away! They know, now!”
“Oh, see them run!” cried Walter,
as at that moment the three crawling
Indians sprang to their feet, made a
dash for their ponies, and rode off
helter-skelter.
They had reason. Three angry,
v,•ell-armed white men were within
half a mile of them, aud riding on like
ma ^- Wound arrived in time,
“Oh, father, said Sally to me, as I
_ her upj#it of therwater and
kissed her, ‘Ho, father, I m so glad
.V° u eame ia _ time. Walter would
have had to shoot ilngse Indians, and
I don’t believe I should, have felt
happy again if he had.”—Youth’s
Companion.
HARDWOOD SAWDUSTS.
Xlte Fine Dusts Used Fov Various Special
X’m-poses—Fine Sawdusts Exported.
The fine sawdust of hard woods,
that which is produced in sawing
veneers, is used for a variety of
special purposes; fine mahogany saw¬
dust, for instance, being extensively
used in cleaning furs. There are
sold fifteen or twenty different varie¬
ties of fine sawdust from as many dif¬
ferent kinds of hard woods, these be¬
ing gathered from the various mills.
■While fine mahogany is the sawdust
most largely u3ed in cleaning furs,
various other kinds are also employed
for that purpose. The use of box¬
wood sawdust for cleaning jewelry is
traditional. Boxwood sawdust is also
used in polishing silver. Some saw
dusts arc used in marquetry work.
Some are used in making pressed
mouldings and ornaments, Sandal
wood sawdnst is used in scent bags.
The production of coarse sawdust
of various hard woods, such as oak
and maple, is greater than the de¬
mand for them; such sawdusts may
be burned in the mills where they are
produced. Coarse mahogany sawdust
may be sold for commonplace uses, made; or
employed as fuel where it is
but for the fine sawdusts of all the
hard woods there is more or less de¬
mand; for many of them there is a
ready market. The most costly of
fine "hardwood sawdust is boxwood,
of which the supply is less than the
demand.
Fine hardwood sawdusts are shipped
from this city to various parts of the
United States; they are exported in
considerable quantities to Canada and
some are sent to England.—Sun,
Guest Room Toothpowder.
Passenger Traffic Manager McCor
mick, of the Big Four, tells of a friend
of his who was visiting some relati ves
He was given the spare room and slept
well. the moimng, desumg to
clean his teeth, he looked through hi
valise for his tooth brush and box of
tooth powder. He found the bi ash,
but had come away from home with
out the powder. ab ° a £ * 10
discovered a small jar on the mantel
He opened it and saw it contained a
grayish powdei. Here is some too
e ai h It
Wh brnsh he dinned into the
scrubbing. When he went down
stair, to bre.kt.st 1>. ati to bi.
‘“S r .t rr », for taking
the liberty, but as I came away from
arssssfifffsfsijtf
'££ Ss'HatachS
03300000000000000000000000
I FARM TOPICS 8 8
o o
OOOOOOQOQOOGOGOQGGOOOOGGCG
The Bite of a Ilog:.
There is great danger of blood
poisoning if a hog bites the flesh.
There is no poison in the hog’s teeth
as there is in the fangs of a poisonous
snake. It is rather the poison which
comes from the saliva, as the hog is a
very indiscriminate feeder and not at
ail cleanly. When a hog is made
angry the amount of this saliva is
greatly increased, and the danger is
greater. Even a slight contusion
from a hog’s tooth should be prompt¬
ly washed out with some antiseptic.
Dilute carbolic acid, one part of the
acid to 2000 of water, is good and al¬
ways a reliable antiseptic. Some
should always be kept where it can be
handily procured, to put on cuts or
outside injuries received on any part
of the body. It will greatly hasten
their healing.
Cost of nigh Bred Poultry.
Convinced that he should follow the
advice of those who know how to im¬
prove the flock of fowls, the farmer is
naturally anxious to know what the
cost of new blood will be. If the
flock is the ordinary farm stock,
mainly mongrels, aud the grade is to
be raised chiefly from egg production,
new blood of a dollar a head will be
good enough. If the stock already
on hand is of one breed and of fairly
good quality, and the new blood is
desired to add to the size of eggs or
to increase egg production or size of
coming chicks, then stock at four or
even five dollars a head is none too
good. If fancy fowls are wanted, bred
to the standard, then he must expect
to pay anywhere from ten dollars up
per bird. But where yon can get
stock which will add to the value of
that you already have. If increased
egg production is wanted, buy from
breeders who are willing to guarantee
that their stock is all they claim for it
in the matter of egg production. If
weight and markings are desired, buy
from those making a specialty of these
points. East, but by no means least,
not be fo iled by the claim that north
erri bred stock is necessary to add
value to southern flocks, or vice versa.
It is agreed that certain seeds north¬
ern grown are best for southern plant¬
ing, but thg claim will not hold good
water with pdultry. Buy where you
can get the best value for your money
aud the nearer home theMetuer, other
things being equal,—Atlanta Journal.
Lime ns a Fertilizer.
Those who believe that lime is
necessary as a fertilizer, and their
opinions are'not based upon actual
tests of the soil, they would do well to
test it. Stir up four or five teaspoon¬
fuls of the soil with enough water to
make a thick paste. Allow it to stand
fifteen, minutes. Then part the soil
with a knife blade and insert one cud
of a strip of distinctly blue litmus
paper (to be had at any apothecary
store), pressing the soil about the pa¬
per. After five minutes remove the
paper carefully in order not to tear it
and rinse quickly with water. If the
blue color has disappeared and a red
one taken its place, the need of lime
is probable. The fingers should never
be touched to the end of the paper to
be inserted in the soil, for they alone
will redden it intensely. fol¬
It would also be well to test as
lows: Take two glasses, place three
teaspoonfuls of soil in each and add
water till half full; to ouo glass add
two teaspoonfuls of ammonia water,
to be obtained of any druggist,
stir both thoroughly and again five
minutes later. Allow them to settle
and if the one to which ammonia was
added gives a black inky looking
liquid, and the other settles out nearly
clear, further evidence of the need of
lime is given. should be relied
The first test upon
if but one is used, but if the second
agrees with the first, the case is f o
much the more certain. Where lime
is lacking, beet leaves often turn red
and many of the young plants die.
On light, sandy soil from 1000 to
2000 pounds of air-slaked lime may be
applied on. the furrows and harrowed
in, preferably in the autumn. On
heaviei soil from one to two tons per
acre may be used in this manner. On
heaw and moist soils, there is less
dan ,^°“limeys “
bad ordi arv builders’ lime
’ be
£“ “ .* ^ 0 nly y tbe q \ Uant ity l may
u d , flSe 0 ah nt two
tbirdg tbe amount place the lumps
^f , f forty to fifty pounds each
coyer withmoist soil Iu a few
“JP . g be sufficiently slaked so
b9 ad wit h a shovel.
Harrow or cultivate in the lime atonce.
lumps, repeat the bar
' after two three
or onlti at ing slaked or
days, when they will have so
that the lime can be mixed with the
piie .smjh with about ^h P oi «iri °
of-rood .shos *s
4 pSa” oTTiSed corrosive l.nd sub
be u ted with
tt-iKsaw
j « *»!»»» .Pr.viou,l r .-imerio.»
NO. 48.
44 Trust Not to 1
Appearances /
That which seems hard to >
bear may be , a great blessing.
Let us take a lesson from the
rough weather of Spring. It
is doing good despite appear¬
ances. Cleanse the system
thoroughly / rout out all
impurities from the blood
with that greatest specific,
Hood's Sarsaparilla.
Fastend ef sleepless nights, with conse¬
quent irritableness and an undone, tired
feeling, you will have a tone and a bracing
air that will enable you to enter into every
day’s work with pleasure. Remember,
Hood's never disappoints.
Goitre—“Goitre was so expensive in med
ical attendance that I let mine go. It made
me a perfect wreck, until I took Hood’s Sar
siiparilla, which entirely cured me.” Mbs.
Thomas Joses, 12 ) South St., Utica, N. Y.
affliction Running Sores-“Five running years ago leg. my
came, a sore on my
causing me great anguish. Hood’s Sarsapar
ilia healed t e sore, which has never re
turned.” Whs. A. YV. Babiiett, 39 Powell
Street, Lowell. Mass.
'hEtiLMJU
Hood’a Pills cure liver i lls, the no n Irritating
the only i-athitrii'-v» take with Hood s Sarsaparilla.
BOM’T BE A FOOL
Try GOOSK CREASE LINIMENT be
fore you say It’s no goob It’# *old unde*
a GUARANTEE* aud with thousand* -t f
merchants lot h -cdliug it wo ha™ had but few
els returned. It will CUKK Croup,
Counlis, Colds, Rheumatism aud all
delicti ami I’uIiik.
A new language not hitherto taugh
in Germany has been introduced into
the winter curriculum of the Berlin »
Seminary for Oriental Languages. Dr.
Lippert, the master o£ this institute,
will shortly commence a course of In¬
struction in the Dualla language, a
tongue spoken by the tribes of central
Africa. For emigrants to the interior
of Kamerun this new language is of
the greatest importance, both for those
aspiring to a government post and
rboso who intend engaging iff com¬
merce iu tiffs German colony.
c I DO 3IY OWN WORK.”
■;
So Says Mrs. Mary Rochietta of jf
Linden, New Jersey, in this
Letter to Mrs. Pinkham.
flow which ‘
“ I was bothered with a
would be quite annoying at times, and
at others would almost stop.
“ I used prescriptions given me by my j
physician, but the
same state <?-' A />/>?) n _ '
tusst
“ After a Mr’
time I was
taken flooding, witli||pp3 W* m
a
that obliged I was to * : m 4- i
keep my bed. m g
Finally, ; in
despair, I
gave up my doc
tor, and began ’
taking your modi- ’
cine, and have certainly _ been greatly *
benefited by its use.
“LydiaE. Pinliham’s Vegetable Com- •
pound has indeed been a friend to mo
“ I am now able to do my own work
thanks to your wonderful medicine.
was as near death I believe as I could
be, so weak that my pulse scarcely
and my heart had almost given out. I*.
could not have stood it one week more, J.
I am sure. I never thought I would
be so grateful to any medicine,
“ I shall use my influence with
one suffering as I did, to haw
use Lydia E. Pinkham’s Ve t
Compound.” ■
Every woman should that is puzzled thesyro® a. JH
her condition secure
thetic advice of a woman who un leq
stands. Write to Mrs. Uickham a
]>nn. Mass., and tell h<>r vour ilia.
GEORGIA RAILROAD!
—A IV L>—
Conn ecti on s»
For Information as to Routes, Scbi
—ules and Rates, Both—
Passenger and Freigl
Write to either of the undersigned,
You will receive prompt reply
reliable information.
J0E> w< WHITE, A. G. JA0KSG1
A.U.gU.sta., Ga.
9. W. WILKES, H. K. NICHO
°' * * M.tta G. A. |
Athene.
W W. HARDWICK, S. E. MA.GH
.
Mmk
F. W. COM
! & F. & P.