Newspaper Page Text
♦ ar—* V 7
r & 4 F TS~ 1
VOL. VI r.
FROM OCEA.N TO OCEAN.
r r
Rudyard Kipling’s Description of Harvey Cheyne’s “Record’
Run From San Diego to Boston.
A REMARKABLE STORY FOUNDED ON FACT.
their ^allo! Kipling’s many books, famous of equal for
dash and vigor, no passage
length is more vivid than the description,
tn ‘Captains Courageous,” of Harvey
Ghoyne’s rush across tliecontinent,to meet
Jrhesonwhem he had mourned as dead.
'•This is said to have been based on a .“rec¬
ord” trip between the same points—San
Diego, California, and Boston, Mass.—
made by a Western railway president in
In 1895. Mr. Kipling’s description shows it
singular knowledge of American railway
men and methods, as well as of American
uharacter. By permission of The Century
'Company, wo print herewith the passage
tn question, from Chapter IX. of “Cap¬
tains Courageous.”]
V *
* Whatever his private sorrows may
be, a multimillionaire, like any other
xvorkingman, should keep abreast o’
his business. Harvey Cheyne, senior,
had gone East late in June to meet, a
woman broken down, half mad, who
dreamed day and night of her son
browning in the gray seas. He trained had
surrounded her with doctors,
faurses, massage-women, and even
faith-cure companions, but they were
Useless. Mrs. Cheyne lay still and
moaned, or talked of her boy by the
hour together to any one who would
listen. Hope she had none, and who
could offer it? All she needed was as¬
surance that drowning did not hurt;
h.nd her husband watched to guard lest
she should make the experiment. Of
his own sorrow he spoke little—hard¬
ly realized the depth o’ it till he
oaught himself asking the calendar ou
his writing-desk, “What’s the use of
going on?”
, There had always lain a pleasant
notion at the back of his head that,
some day, when he had rounded off
everything and the boy had left col¬
lege, ho would take his son to his
heart and lead him into his pos¬
sessions. Then that boy, he argued,
as busy fathers do, would instantly
become his companion, partner and
ally, and there would follow splendid
years of great works carried out to¬
gether—the old head backing the
young fire. Now this hoy was dead—
sea, as it might have been a
sailor from one of Cheyne’s
big teaships; the wife was dying, or
'worse; he himself was trodden down
by platoons of women and doctors and
maids and attendants; worried almost
beyond endurance by the shift and
Dhange of her poor restless whims;
hopeless, with no heart to meet his
tuany enemies.
He had taken the wife to his raw
new palace in Han Diego, where she
and her peoplo occupied a wing of
great price, and Cheyne, in a veranda
room, between a secretary and a type¬
writer,'who was also a telegraphist,
toiled about wearily from day to day.
There was a war of rates among four
Western railroads in which he was
supposed to be interested; a devastat¬
ing strike bad developed in bis lumber
camps in Oregon, and tbe Legislature
of the State of California, which has
no love for its makers, was preparing
open war against him.
Ordinarily he would have accepted
battle ere it was offered, and have
waged a pleasant and unscrupulous
campaign. But now he sat limply,
his soft black hat pushed forward on
his nose, his big body shrunk inside
his loose clothes, staring at his boots
or the Chiueso junks in the bay, and
assenting absently to the secretary’s
questions as he opened tho Saturday
mail.
1 Cheyne was wondering how much
It-would cost to drop everything and
pull out. He carried huge insurances,
could buy himself royal annuities'and
between one of bis places in Colorado
and a little society (that would do the
wife good), say in Washington and iu
the South Carolina Islands, a man
might forget plans that had come to
nothing. On the other hand--
The click of the typewriter stopped;
the girl was looking at the secretary,
who had turned white.
He passed Cheyne a telegram re¬
peated from San Francisco:
“Picked up by fishing schooner
We/e Here having fallen off boat great
^imes on Banks fishing all well wait¬
ing Gloucester Mass care Disko Troop
for money or orders wire what shall do
and how is mama Harvey N.Cheyne.”
The father let it fall, laid his head
down on tho roller-top of the shut
desk, and breathed heavily. The sec¬
retary ran for Mrs. Cheyne’s doctor,
who found Cheyne pacing to and fro.
“What—what d’ you think of it? Is
it possible? Is there any meaning to
it? I can’t quite make it out,” he
cried.
“I can,” said the doctor, “I lose
seven thousand a year—that’s all.”
He thought of the struggling New
York practice he had dropped at
•' 1 Cheyne’s imperious bidding, and re
turned the telegram with a sigh.
“You mean you’d tell her? ’May
be a fraud?”
“What’s the motive?” said the doc
tor, coolly. “Detection’s too certain,
It’s the boy sure enough.”
Enter a French maid, impudently,
ns an indispensable one who is kept on
only by large wages. she must
\ ..... “Mils- Cheyne say you
- ‘To thine own seif be true, and it will follow, as night the day, thou cana’t not then be false to any man.
LINCOLNTON, GA.. THURSDAY, JUNE 22. 1891).
come at once. She think you are
seek.”
The master of thirty millions bowed
his head meekly and followed Suzanne;
and a thin, high voica on the upper
lauding of the great white-wood square
staircase cried: “What is it? What
has happened?” the shriek
No doors could keep out
that rang through the echoing house a
moment later, when her husband
blurted out the news.
“And that’s all right,” said the doc¬
tor, serenely, to the typewriter.
“About the only medical statement in
novels with any truth to it is that joy
don’t kill, Miss Kinzey.”
“I knew it; but we’ve a heap to do
first.” Miss Kinzey was from Mil¬
waukee, somewhat direct in speech,
and as her fancy leaned towards the
secretary, she divined there was work
in hand. He was looking earnestly at
the vast roller-map of America on the
wall.
“Milsom, we’re going right across,
Private car—straight through—Bos
ton. Fix the connections,” shouted
Cheyne down the staircase.
“I thought so.”
The secretary turned to the type
writer, and their eyes met (out of
was born a story—nothing to do with
this story). She looked inquiringly,
doubtful of his resources. He signed
to her to move to the Morse as a gen
eral brings brigades into action. Then
he swept his hand musician-wise
through his hair, regarded the ceiling,
and set to work, while Miss Kinzev’s
white fingers called up the Continent
of America.
“K. H. Wade, Los Angeles—the
‘Constance’is at Los Angeles, isn’t
she, Miss Kinsey?”
“Yep.” Miss Kinzey nodded be
tween clicks as the secretary looked
at his watch.
“Beady? Send‘Constance,’private
car, here, and arrange for special to
leave here Sunday in time to connect
with New York Limited at Sixteenth
street, Chicago, Tuesday next.”
Click—click—click! “Couldn’tyou
better that?” •
“Not on those grades. That gives
’em sixty hours from here to Chicago,
They won’t gain anything by taking a
special east of that. Ready? Also
arrange with Lake Shore and Michigan
Southern to take ‘Constance’ on New
York Central and Hudson Biver But'
falo to Albany, and B. and A. the same
Albany to Boston. Indispensable I
should reach Boston Wednesday even
ing. Be sure nothing prevents. Have
ul 30 wired Canniff, Toucey, and Barnes,
—Sign, Cheyne.”
Miss Kinzey nodded, and tho seere
tarywenton.
“Now then. Canniff, Toucey, and
Barnes, of course. Ready? Canniff,
Chicago. Please take my private car
‘Constance’ from Santa Feat Sixteenth
street next Tuesday p. m. on N. Y,
Limited through to Buffalo and de
liver N. Y. C. for Albany.—Ever bin to
N’York, Miss Kinzey? We’ll go some
day.—Beady? Take car Buffalo to AI
bany on Limited Tuesday p. m. That’s
for Toucey.”
“Haveu’fc bin to Noo York, but I
know that!” with a toss of the head.
“Begpardou. Now, Boston and AI
bany, Barnes, same instructions from
A.lbany through to Boston. Leave
three-five p. m. (you needn’t wire that);
arrive nine-five p. m. Wednesday,
That covers everything Wade will do,
but it pays to shake up the managers.”
“It’s great,” said Miss Kinzey, with
a look of admiration. This was the
kind of man she understood and ap
predated.
< i ’T is n’t bad,” said Milsom, mod
estly. “Now any one but me would
have lost thirty hours and spent a
week working out tho run, instead of
handing him over to the Hants Fe
straight through to Chicago.”
“But see here, about that Noo York
Limited. Chauncov Depew himself
could n’t hitch his car to her,” Miss
Kinzey suggested, recovering herself,
“Ye's, but this isn’t Chaunoey. It’s
Cheyne-lightning. It goes.” wire
“Even so. Guess we’d better
the boy. You’ve forgotten that, any
how.”
“I’ll ask.”
When he returned with the father’s
message bidding Harvey meet them in
Boston at an appointed hour, he found
Miss Kinzey laughing over tho keys,
Then Milsom laughed, too, for the
frantic clicks from Los Angeles ran:
“We want to know why—why—why?
General uneasiness developed and
spreading.” appealed
Ten minutes later Chicago'
to Miss Kinzey in these words: “IE
crime of century is maturing please
warn friends in time. We are all get
ting to cover here.”
This was capped by a message from
Topeka (ahd wherein Topeka was con
corned even Milsom could not guess):
“Don’t shoot, Colonel. “We’ll come
down.”
Cheyne smiled grimly at the con
sternation of his enemies when the
telegrams were laid before him. “They
think we’re on the war path. Tell
’em we don’t feel like gliting just
now, Milsom. Tell ’em what we’re
going for. I guess you and Miss Kin
zey had better come along, though it
isn’t likely I shall do any business
on the road. Tell ’em the truth—for
once.”
So tho truth was told. Miss Kinzey
clicked in the sentiment while the
secretary added the memorable quota
tion, “Let us have peace,” and in
board-rooms two thousand miles away
the representatives of sixty-three mil
lion dollar's’ worth of variously mani
pulated railroad interests breathed
more freely. Cheyne was flying to
meet the only son, so miraculously
restored to him. The bear was seek
ing his cub, not the bulls. Hard men
who had their knives drawn to fight
for their financial lives put away the
weapons and wished him God-speed,
while half a dozen panic-smitten tin
pot roads perked up their heads and
spoke of the wonderful things they
would have done had not Cheyne
buried the hatchet.
It was a busy ■week-end among the
wires; for, now that their anxiety was
removed, men and cities hastened to
accommodate. Los Angeles called to
San Diego and Barstow that the
Southern California engineers might
know and bo ready in their lonely
round-houses; Barstow passed the
word to the Atlantic and Pacific; and
Albuquerque flung it the whole
length of the Atchison, Topeka and
Santa Fe management, even into Chi
cage. An engine, combination-car
with crew, and the great and gilded
“Constance” private car were to be
“expedited” over those three thou
sand three hundred and fifty miles.
The train would take precedence of
one hundred and seventy-seven
others meeting and passing; despatch
era and crews of every one of those
sa id trains must be notified. Sixteen
locomotives, sixteen engineers and
sixteen firemen would be needed—
each and everyone tho best available,
Two and one-half mihutes would be
allowed for changing engines, three
for watering and two for coaling.
“\Vnrn the men, and arrange tanks
and chutes accordingly; for Harvey
Cheyne is in a hurry, a hurry—a
hurry,” sang the wires. “Forty
miles an hour will be expected, and
division superintendents will accom
pany this special over their respec
tive divisions. From San Diego to
Sixteenth street, Chicago, let the
magic carpet be laid down. Hurry!
oh, hurry!” Cheyne,
“It will be hot,” said as
they rolled out of San Diego in the dawn
of Sunday. “We’re going to hurry,
mamma, just as fast as ever we can;
but I really don’t think there’s any
good of your putting on your bonnet
and gloves yet. You'd much better
lie down and take your medicine. I’d
play you a game of dominoes, but it’s
Sunday.”
“I’ll be good. Oh, I will be good,
Only—taking off my bonnet makes
me feel as if we’d never get there.”
“Try to sleep a little, mamma, and
we’ll be in Chicago before you know.”
“But it’s Boston, father. Tell them
to hurry.”
The six-foot drivers were hammer
ing their way to San Bernardino and
the Mohave wastes, but this was no
grade for speed. That would come
later. The heat of the desert fol
lowed the heat of the hills as they
turned east to the Needles ancl the
Colorado Biver. The car cracked in
the utter drouth and glare, and they
.
put crushed ice to Mrs. Cheyne’s
neck, and toiled up the long, long
grades, past Ash Fork, towards Flag
staff, whero the forests and quarries
are, under the dry, remote skies. The
needle of the speed-indicator flicked
and wagged to and fro; the cinders
rattled on the roof, and a whirl of dust
sucked after the whirling wheels. The
crew of tho combination sat on their
bunks, panting in their shirt-sleeves,
and Cheyne found himself among
them shouting old, old stories of the
railroad that every trainman knows,
above the roar of the car. He told
them about his son, ancl how the sea
had given up its dead, and they nod
ded and spat and rejoiced with him;
asked after “her, back there,” and
whether she could stand it if the on
gineer “let her out a piece,” and
Cheyne thought she could. Accord
iugly, the great fire-horse was “lei
out” from Flagstaff to Winslow, till a
division superintendent protested.
But Mrs. Cheyne, in the boudoir
stateroom, where the French maid,
sallow-white with fear, clung to the
silver door-handle, only moaned a lit
tie and begged her husband to bid
them “hurry.” And so they dropped
the dry sands and moon-struck rocks
of Arizona behind them, and grilled
on till the crash of the couplings and
the wheeze of the brako-ho3e told them
they were at Coolidge by the Conti
nental Divide.
Three bold and experienced men—
cool, confident, and dry when they be
gan; while, quivering, and wet when
they finished their trick at those terri
hie wheels—swung her over the great
lift from Albuquerque to Glorietta and
beyond Springer, up and up to the
Baton Tunnel on the Stato line,
whence they dropped rocking into La
Junta, had sight of the Arkansaw, and
tore down the long slope to Dodge
City, where Cheyne took comfort once
again from setting his watch an hour
ahead.
There was very little talk in the car.
The secretary and typewriter sat to-
gether on the stamped! J,l^a?iish4eathef
cushions by the plate-glass watching obserya
tion-window at the rear end,
tho surge and ripple of the ties
ciowded back behind them, and, it is
believed, making notes of the scenery,
Cheyne moved nervously between his
own extravagant gorgeousness and the
naked necessity of the combination,
an unlit cigar in his teeth, till the
pitying crews forgot tliat he was their
tribal enemy, and did their best to
entertain him.
At night the bunched electrics lit
up that distressful palace of all the
and they fared sumptuously,
'swinging on through the emptiness of
.abject desolation. Now they heard
■he swish of a water-tank, and the
.guttural voice of a Chinaman, tho
clink-clink of hammers that tested the
Kvnpp steel wheels, and the oath of a
tramp chased off the rear-platform;
now the solid crash of coal shot into
the tender; and now a beating back
of noises as they flew past a waiting
train. Now they looked out into great
fbysses, a trestle purring beneath
their tread, or up to rocks that barred
out half the stars. Now scaur and
ravine changed and rolled back to
jagged mountains on the horizon’s
edge, and now broke into hills lower
and lower, till at last came the true
plains.
At Dodge City an unknown hand
threw in a copy of a Kansas paper
containing some sort of an interview
with Harvey, who had evidently fallen
i n with an enterprising reporter, tele
graphed on from Boston. The joyful
journalese revealed that it was beyond
question their boy, and it soothed
Mrs. Cheyne for a while. Her one
word “hurry” was conveyed by the
crews to the engineers of" Nickerson,
Topeka and Marceline, where the
grades are easy, and they brushed the
Continent behind them.' Towns and
villages were close together now, and
a man could feel here that he moved
among people.
“I can’t see the dial, and my eyes
acho so. What are we doing:”
“The very best wo can, mamma.
There’s no sense in getting in before
the Limited. We’d only have to wait.”
“I don’t care. I want to feel we’re
moving. Sit down and tell me the
miles.”
Cheyne sat down and read the dial
for her (there were some miles which
,aland for records to this day), but the
seventy-foot car never changed its
long steamer-like roll, moving through
the heat with the hum of a giant bee.
Yet the speed was not enough for
Mis. Cheyne; and the heat, the re
morseless August heat, was making
bar giddy; the clock-hands would not
move, and when, oh, when would they
be in Chicago?
ft is not true that, as they changed
engines at Fort Madison, Cheyne
passed over to the Amalgamated
Brotherhood cf Locomotive En
gineers an endowment sufficient to
enable them to fight him and his fel
lows on equal terms for evermore. He
paid his obligations to engineers and
firemen as he believed they deserved,
and only hi3 bank knows what he gave
the crews who had sympathized with
him. It is on record that the last crew
took entire charge of switching opera
tions at Sixteenth street, because
“she” was in a doze at last, and
Heaven was to help any one who
bumped her.
Now the highly paid specialist who
conveys the Lake Shore and Michigan
Southern Limited from Chicago to
Elkhart is something of an autocrat,
and ] le does not approve of being told
horv to back up to a car. None the
less he handled the “Constance” as if
she might have been a load of dyna
mite, and when the crew rebuked
him, they did it in whispers and dumb
show.
“Pshaw!” said the Atchison, To
pe ka and Santa Fe men, discussing
life later, “we weren’t runnin’ for a
record. Harvey Cheyne’s wife, she
were sick back, an’ we"didn’t want to
jounce her. ’Come to think of it, our
runnin’ time from San Diego to Chi
cago was 57.54. You can tell that to
them Eastern wav-trains, When
we’re tryin’ for a record, we’ll let you
know.”
'p 0 the Western man (though this
would not please either city) Chicago
and Boston are cheek by jowl, and
SO me railroads encourage the delu
s i 0 n. TheLimitedwhirledthe“Con
stance” into Buffalo and the arms of
the New York Central and Hudson
Biver (illustrious magnates with white
whiskers and gold charms on their
watch-chains boarded her here to talk
a little business to Cheyne), who slid
her gracefully into Albany, where the
Boston and Albany completed the run
f rom tide-water to tide-water—total
time, eighty-seven hours and thirty
five minutes, or three days, fifteen
hours and one-hall'. Harvey was wait
jug f or them.
lie Had Reason to itun.
Tho man came out of an office build¬
ing on the run and started down the
street.
“Here! Here!” cried the policeman
on the corner. “What’s your hurry?”
“There’s a roan back there
to sell me a book on twenty-eight
weekly installments of $2.33 each!”
cried the victim.
The policeman instantly released
his hold.
“Run!” he cried. “Run ’ike a
whitehead! Maybe you can get away
Horn him yet 1 "—Chicago. Post.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCCOOOCOOOC
! FARM TOPICS
ioooocoocooooooooooooccocd
1‘urirj lllE Sour Soil*.
soils The is value such of to lime make in purifying its general sour use j |
as
very necessary. Lime is not a fertil- ■
izer in the strict sense of the word,
but in connection with manure it is
often absolutely essential to the fer¬
tilizing of the soil. Land gets sour
from one cause and another, aud some
soils actually get “manure sick.” It
is possible to so feed the soil that it
gets indigestion, and the more that is
piled on it tho less it seems to pro¬
duce. I have seen soils so rich that
they could not produce more than very
small crops. They were manure sick
and sour.
It is at this stage that lime comes
in to correct matters. A top dressing
of lime ou such a soil will do more
good than a thousand dollars’ worth
of commercial fertilizers. It is possi¬
ble to raise abundant crops for several
years in succession ou such soils by
simply giving them a top dressing of
lime every year. It is owing to this
‘.bat some farmers have gathered the
impression that lime is a good fertil¬
izer. The action of the lime was not
to furnish any plant food, but simply
to correct the acidity of the soil, so
that the abundance of fertility could
be taken up by the crops.
Lime is good sometimes to kill cer¬
tain germs which multiply in the soil.
Thus, the bacteria which causes club
root iu cabbage will bo killed if the
laud is dressed in the spiing with
lime. It has beneficial effects in other
ways, too. It tends to loosen aud dis¬
integrate the texture of the soil, so
that the drainage is better and tho
mechanical condition of the soil is im¬
proved so that the roots of the plants
can extend downward for water and
food.
Lime is of value ou the manure pile
at times. Mixed in with the manure
it will tend to sweeten it, and it will
enter the soil in conjunction with tho
fertilizer to perform its work there.
"Where heavy dressing of manure has
caused the potato scab in these tubers,
it is wise either to dress the land with
lime, or to mix lime with manure just
before applying it.—A. B. Barrett, iu
American Cultivator.
Teacli Culture.
If we expect to be successful in cul¬
tivating peaohes we must give the
trees the very best attention that
modern experience has taught us, to
produce the most practical results.
There is a good deal of unsatisfactory
advice given to the farmers in one way
or another. I do not think that any
one would wilfully publish anything
for the purpose of misleading those
engaged in agriculture; but too many
give vent to half-formed ideas, or to
conclusions too hastily reached. It is
a common failing to draw sweeping
conclusions from a few facts, and
therein is our greatest danger in ac¬
cepting the advice of others. Never¬
theless, we cannot discard ail advice,
but simply try to select from the chaff
the wheat that will be oE value to us,
and then to use our common sense in
the matter.
There are many things about peach
culture that we are still uncertain
about. It is conjectural yet, and cau¬
tion must be used in accepting the ad¬
vice of any one who attempts to settle
these important questions from a few
facts. But, on the other hand, there
is so much known and repeatedly
proved, and yet not practised by those
who enter into the work, that a con¬
stant repetition of the facts seems nec¬
essary. It is hard to account for this,
except upon the theory that there is
a large class who are so conservative
that they will not accept anything un¬
less it is covered with the moss of
ages. orchards, culti¬
In caring for peach must
vation, fertilization and pruning
be considered. No peach orchard can
be made profitable without good cul¬
ture being given to it. Cultivation of
the soil has an important bearing ou
the time of maturing of the fruits. The
maturity of the trees can be postponed
by giving a shallow cultivation. Early
maturity of the peach trees means an
early death, and it does not pay. Yet
certain varieties hasten to their early
destruction in this way unless checked.
Even after bearing the trees need cul
tivation. This should go on until
August. Shallow plowing and pulver¬
izing with the harrow will always ben¬
efit the trees.
Soil fertilizers of some kind must
be added every season. The trees aro
taking from the soil certain elements
that must be supplied artificially.
Wood ashes stand first for this, but
some soils will do just as good if fer¬
tilized with stable manure. Lime and
potash are necessary for the peach
soil, and they should be supplied in
some form. An application of caustic
potash solution to the trunks of the
trees should be made after the 1* lit
has set, that is, from the first to the
middle of June. Pruning and thin¬
ning in their season should be at¬
tended to also.—James S. Wilson, in
American Cultivator.
The Mexican Seat of Honor.
In a Mexican home the sofa is the
seat of honor, aud the guest does not
take a seat upon it until requested to
do so.
INO. 3.
PHILIPPINE TOBACCO. '
if *tit Danger of Competition wilt*
American-Made Goode.
“Just at the present time,” said a
prominent tobacco man, “it is of inter
e.st to consider the relation of the Phil
fpplne tobacco industry to the United
States. There need be no fear of com
petition. We will sell them infinitely
more than we will ever buy from them,
and as the islands get more civilized
and more Americans and Europeans
settle and there, we will and sell cigars them and mor* buy |
more tobacco
less, though we can not take many
fewer cigars than we do row,” relates
the New York Sun. “I have several
acquaintances. Englishmen, who occa- i
sionally like a Manila cigar, and they
have to get them of one dealer. H*
sends to Canada for these cigars ill'
single case lots, for there Is no stock
kept In this country.and yet they make ,
In the Philippines a matter of 150,000.- i.‘
000 cigars a year. There have been k |
from time to time efforts to introduce’
these cigars here, but without much £
success. In England they sell very
six, largely, which mainly cost twenty in bundles cents of a five bundlh. and | r
These are both cheroots and cigars. »,
rather roughly turned out, bamded with I
strips of red and yellow paper, about a
quarter of an inch broad. They come
500 in a big cedar box, with a sliding ||
lid, and cost the English dealer, duty
paid, about $3.50. They are to be
found in nearly every drug store th
the country. The tobacco is of a pec' dull . |
liar light color, most of it rather
looking, and it has, to my taste, th« 1
flavor among tobaccos which the beeti |
has among vegetables, rather earthy
It is also heavy in type, and makes the
smoker rather sleepy, which gives rise r
to the mistaken idea that there is opi- i
um in it. Our people will not smoko .
it at any price. It is good enough, hut
.
net the type they prefer. When the ,
supplies last rebellion of Havana In Cuba leaf tobacco began and fell tho off,’ |
smong the growths introduced as eub- f
stitutes was Manila, but even under
these favorable conditions the impor J j
tations drop never amounted the to much In 1892 more wa J
than a in ocean.
brought in S,87f> pounds, valued at fl.-g
793; in 1893, 1,268 pounds, valued
$200; in 1894, none, and in 1896, ofthij?
pounds, valued at $1,724. None
was classified as wrapper
cigars the importations in ' *' t
.
339 pounds, valued at $442; in
pounds, valued at $317; in 1894-95,1,2c.
pounds, valued at $808. and in 1896,’
1,393 pounds, valued at $614. The great
bulk of these shipments came from
Canada. Outside of one up-town store
which deals in every tobacco under the
sun, or pretty nearly, I do not think
you could find a Manila cigar in the
city, except mementb23 recently
brought back by soldiers.*'
There has DOen a remarkable in
crease of Insanity in the United States
during tilt- present generation. Form
erly .it was estimated that there was
one insane person to every 2.300 in this
country. The recent annual report of
the New York State Board of Lunacy
shows that there were at the time tbe i
report was made up no less than 22.-
3^0 persons confined in the New York
State hospitals for the insane. In ad¬
dition to this largo number there are
probably several thousand other ia
sane persons in New York wBo are
ing treated in private sanitariums oT®
are kept at home. The average of those
thus confined in New York is 30.1 per
ceut, which would make the total
number of the insane in New York 31.
9S0. The is said average to be of much insanity larger in New than J
York
that in the country generally. The
New York proportion would make the
number of insane persons in the United j
States about 320,000. According the total to the is j |
latest obtainable reports
only about 150,000. But there were,
according to the census, only 100,10H
insane persons in the whole country
in 1S90. An increase of nearly 44,000
in less than ten years is truly remark¬
able. J
GEORGIA RAILROAD.
—A. IV I>-
Connections.
For Information as to Routes, Sohed
—ules and Rates, Beth—
Passenger and Freight
Write to either of the undersigned.
Yon will reoe ; ve prompt reply an*
reliable information.
JOE. W. WHITE, A. G. JACKSC8,
T. P. A. G. P. A.
Augusta, Gra.
a W. WILKES, H. K. NICHOLSON.
C. F. & P. A. G. A.
Atlanta. Athene.
W. W. HARDWICK, S. E. MAG
S. A. C. F. A.
Macon. M
M. R. HUDSON, F. W. COFFDS,
S. F. A. & F. & P. A.
Milledfi’evjUOi Augusta.