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; thl winter solstick.
■ What is the time of the year!
■ % What is the hour of the day!
w later at morn and sooner at eve
The pale stars shine alway;
K And the low sun drifts to
So wan that at height of noon
I We hardly know it the dun light
M Be the parting glow of the -uulight
Or the gleam of the risen moon:
And ever through shade and lleetin; shine
We bear the bleak wind’s tune:
I' "Alas, alas for the summer fled,
And sky and earth so gray 1"
I it la. for the <>d >r of violets
I That sprang with the April rain,
' .And the breath of the rose and the Illy
That long in their graves have lain!
And oh,for the orchard s wealth of bloom.
And the wheat field s waving gold!
My heart is faint for the splendor
-Of bar vest moons, and the tender
.Tale that the zephyrs told!
Bow shall we live now earth is bare.
And the sun himself is cold,
the only wind is the bitter north,
■ Bemoaning wood and plain?
MlPVait! there's a thrill in the air!
K See I in the south forlorn
fpTho great san stays his wandering beams,
And a new year finds its morn!
stars are a- watch, and the mocn*.
K The wailing wind drops low;
s: 'There’s a murmer of daffodil meadows.
of songs in the silver shadows.
] And banks where the violets blow!
tires be lit. let shrines be decked.
I And joy be lord of woe!—
■ ‘The sun in dory mounts the sky,
I And God for enrth is born!
—Edna Itoan l*roetor, in the Cook.
B THE mutiny.
One foggy afternoon a few weeks ago
the captain of a trim clipper ship of
about 1,000 tons, which lay at an East
river pier, was pacing up and down on
the after house, and occasionally glanc
ing out upon the mist-covered river.
The ship was to have set sail for Aus
tralia that morning, but owing to the
fog the captain had preferred to remain I
at the dock.
“No. I won’t take any chances,” said
the captain to a friend who had come
aboard a few moments before, and stood
leaning against the tafTrail. "Although
I’m a young man, I stop and think be
fore I run any risk; that is, when there’s
any time for me to stop and think. And
yet when I was a boy I was the most
heedless youngster going. I did what- I
ever came into iny head, and never
thought of the conseuuences. But once,
just in the nick of lime, it flashed I
through my mind that I ought to stop
and think. I did stop and think, and if
I hadn’t I wouldn’t be alive now, nor
would the ship under me be afloat. I
was brought up on a farm in the interior :
of this State,” continued the captain,
“but when I was about sixteen years old i
I grew tired of farm life and ran away i
and came to New York. I found a place
in a grocery store, but I soon got tired
of that sort of work. Then it struck me
that I would like to go to sea. so off I ;
honied to a sailor’s boarding house, the |
keeper of which got a berth for me on
this very ship. She was then only about ,
a couple of years old, although :
I don’t know that she looked 1
any newer then than she does now. I
signed articles for a voyage from this
port to China byway of Valparaiso and
back to America. We hadn’t been out
many days before I found that the life
of a boy on board ship, wasn’t a very
pleasant one. The second mate, in whose ■
watch I was, often kicked and
cuffed me, and the mate struck me
whenever he had a chance, while the
old captain, who always hated boys,
would look at me as if he wanted to
throw me overboard. The sailors used to
swear at me, and some of them thought
nothing of hitting me when none of the
officers were looking. All this made
me wish I had never even heard of the
sea. Arter we had passed the equator
we were carried along by the southeast
trade winds until we got about off Rio
Janerio. The first evening after we lost
the trades, when the watch went to the
pumps they would not work. There
was some obstruction in them, but the
carpenter could not find out what it was.
As the ship was leaking a little the cap
tain decided that it would never do to
§o around Cape Horn with the pumps in
hat condition, so he said he would put
into Rio Janeiro and have them over
hauled.
“I was, of course, delighted at the
prospect of seeing a foreign port. The
night after we had headed toward Rio
I heard the sailors in my watch talking
about the captain. One of them said
that the cook had told him that the cap
tain was going to do some trading on his
own account when he got to China, and
that he had considerable money with
him. I paid no attention to this state
ment at the time. All I thought of was
.about getting into Rio Janeiro. We
got within about a day’s sale of Rio when
the carpenter, who was tinkering about
the pumps, discovered the obstruction
and succeeded in removing it. Then
there was no need putting into port, and
the captain gave orders to head toward
Cape Horn again. I did not like this at
all. It was late in the afternoon
when we put about. I noticed during
the dog watch that the men were talking
’ very earnestly among themselves in the
forecastle. Eight bells struck, and the
watch to which I belonged went on
deck. I kept the lookout for two hours,
fc and at four bells, when I went down on
the main deck, one of the sailors, who
fefwas known as ‘Big Pete,’ came up to me
;Mnd began to talk very pleasantly. This
Surprised me, because generally he had
weemed to dislike me. Big Pete was a
wll, brawny fellow, and was the wicked
•t-looking man in the crew, and that
was saying a good deal, for they were a
hard-looking lot of sailors. After talk
ing about things generally for a few
minutes, Pete said:
“‘Now. young fellow, I know that
you don’t like it aboard this ship. No
more do wo. You're always getting
knocked about by the mat's. and I don t
see how you stand it. Now, if you had
a chance to get ashore at Rio Janeiro,
you wouldn’t throw it away? Wages is
good in the high country. A smart young
fc fellow like you could get a job on some
ranch, and make a fortune in a few
years. ’
“‘I wouldn't like anything better,’
said I, ‘but I can’t get ashore. The
captain ain’t going to put iuto Rio after
all.’
“ But wo’ll fix that, my lad, if you’ll
go in with us,’ said Pete.
“ ‘You don’t mean to mutiny?’ I asked,
starting back in alarm.
‘“No, no mutiny,’replied Pete, ‘that
is, not the bad kind of mutiny. But we
can't stand it on this boat any longer,
and what we want to do is to get into
Rio, and we cm do it without hurting
anybody or robbing anybody. A few
minutes afore eight boils the second mate
| will go into his stateroom for to write it
iin his log book. You know he always
does that before eight bells instead of
waiting until after the watches are
changed, as lie ought to do. Then all
we’ve got to do is to fasten the forward
cabin doors on him! At the same time
the man at the wheel will just fasten
the door of the after-companionway.
Then we’ll nail up the window shutters
:ii. .round the cabin on the outside, and
we’ll have all the cabin people tight
without having so much as struck one of
them.’
“ ‘And what then?’ 1 asked.
“ ‘Why, then,’ said he, ‘I know
enough about navigation to take the
ship into the harbor of Rio. There are
twelve of us beside you, and the cook
will work with us. We can get along
without the captain, the two mates, the
carpenter and the steward. They’ll be
locked up in the cabin, where they 11 find
plenty to eat and drink. We’ll manage
to strike the harbor along in the evening.
Then we let go the anchor and take a
few of our clothes and row ashore. We
leave the bout at a landing and go to a
boarding house keeper that I know
who'll keep us till we get a chance to
run up into the high country, where we
can get jobs on ranches.’
“ ‘But how about the ship?’ I asked
eagerly. I was trying to persuade ray
self that there was nothing wrong about
Pete’s plan.
“Why, the ship is seen next morning.’
he replied, ‘and plenty of bouts comes
alongside. They find them all safe and
sound in the cabin. Nobody’s hurt and
nobody’s robbed, for don't we leave our
chests and nearly a month’s wages on
board ! And ain’t the boat found at the
landing? Then the captain ships a new
crew and goes on around the Horn. Come,
my lad, tell us, are you with us?”
“I wanted badly to get ashore, so, as
usual, without stopping to think of con
sequences, I told Pete that I would stand
by him. Another sailor who was stand
ing near us and who had heard me give
my decision then came up to Pete and
said:
“ ‘Don’t you think as how the lad
ought to do it? He’s light of foot and
wouldn't stumble and wake them, like
one of the lubbers probably would.’
Pete seemed to reflect for a moment.
Then he turned to me and said: ‘You
are the very one to do it, my lad. You
see, though we don’t want to hurt no
body in the cabin, we ain’t so sure that
nobody in the cabin wouldn’t hurt us if
they got a chance. Now, the mate, he’s
got a pistol. He keeps it in the drawer
right under his bunk, and that drawer
is nearly always part open, so the cook
says, and he's been in there. The
second mate don’t keep no pistol; no
more does the steward nor the carpenter.
But the captain keeps two pistols. They
are right in the drawer of the table in
the after cabin, and the drawer isn’t
locked, so the cook says, and he's been
in there. Mind, I don't ask you to steal
those pistols. We only want to got
them away from the cabin folks, who
might do some harm with them. We’ll
never use the pistols. We’ll put them
in the cook’s storeroom, where they’ll
i find them quick enough. If it wasn’t
stealing, we’d just chuck those pistols
overboard.’
“As usual, I did not stop to reflect. I
volunteered to secure the three pistols
and was slapped on the back and told
that I was a brave lad. I had on several
occasions, while at work,peeped through
the after cabin window, and had seen
the table in the drawer of which were
the two pistols. The captain’s state
room opened off of the after cabiu, so
that there was some danger of waking
the skipper, but this did not frighten
me out of undertaking the adventure.
It was agreed that I should go into the
cab n and secure the pistols at seven
bells, if the second mate was then aft,
as he was pretty sure to be. At length
seven bel's struck aft, and were repeated
by the lookout forward. The second
1 mate was standing aft by the wheel, and
the coast was clear. I stole through the
port cabin door and went into the state
room of the mate, who had left his door
half open. He was snoring heavily. Be
' ncath the bunk I found a drawer, partly
| open. I stuck in my hand and after a
little groping I found the pistol and took
'it out. I got sa'ely out of the mate’s
I room, and, moving softly through the
forward cabin, I gently opened the door
lof the after cabin. I could hear the
breathing of the captain, who seemed to
be sleeping soundly. I groped my way
to the table and succeeded in opening
' the drawer and securing the two pistols
with mt making any noise. Then I stole
buck to the door and was about to enter
I the forward cabin, when a thought
struck me. And strangely enough, for
the first time in my life, I stopped and
reflected.
“ ‘What,’ thought I, ‘if these men are
bent on real mutiny? What if they mean
to shoot the officers with these pistols?
' Some one said that the captain had
i brought money with him to trade with
Jin China. Suppose the men propose to
! secure that money, and sink or set fire
‘ to the ship, after murdering the officers,
and perhaps me? They could easily es
; cape to the shore in the long boat.’
“I looked toward the deck, and
through the door of the forward cabin
; I could see dark figures moving stealth-,
ily and easi'y about. What could I do?
i A thought struck me. One by one I re
moved the cartridges frem the revolving
cylinders, and thus ren ler the pistols
harmless. Then I placed the cartridges
in mv pocket and stole through the for-
I ward cabin and out on to the deck. I
I» as instantly seized by rough hands,
and th« pistols were taken from me.
Then I found myself flat on my back,
•w ith a man's hand over nay mouth. I
looked up and saw pointed at mv breast
a sheath knife, which was in the grasp
of a wicked looking sailor. I saw that
I had fa len into a trap, and I gave my
self up for lost I closed my eyes, ex
pecting to feel the steel enter my breast.
Then I heard a smothered curse from
Pete.
“ ’These pistols naven't so much as a
cartridge among the three of them,' said
Fete.
“I opened my eyes. The sailor who
had prepared to stab me had paused in
his murderous work. Pete bent over mo
and in a fierce whisper wanted to kn >w
what 1 had done with the cartridges
Then 1 thought that 1 saw a glimmer of
hope.
“ ‘There was a box of cartridges in the
cabin drawer,' said I; 'but how did 1
know the pistols wasn’t loaded? 1 didn't ,
have time to stop and look.’
“One of the sailors proposed that I
should be sent back after the cartridges,
but I said 1 was afraid they would kill
me the moment I got back. Pete swore
that no one would touch me if 1 brought
back the cartridges, ‘And,’ said ho,
‘we'll give you your full share of the
captain’s money.’ I said that I would
go back. The sailors pushed me toward
the cabin door. 1 glanced over my
shoulder and caught sight of the green
light of another vessel some distance off.
That gave me an idea. After Pete had
shoved me into the cabin door I made
a bound for the after cabin and cried out
at the toj: of my voice:
“ ‘Ship ahoy! Captain! A sail on the
starboard bow close to us! She’ll run us
dowel Have out. everybody!'
“1 looked over my shoulder. Dark I
faces were glaring in through the cabin
door. But the men seemed undecided
whether to follow me. Then camo an
swering shouts from the people in the
cabin. The mutineers seemed to be taken
by surprise. A panic seized upon them,
and they retreated forward. The captain,
mate, carpenter, und steward came out
of their staterooms and hurried on deck,
and saw a vessel cross our bows, but at
a good distance ahead. Then the cap
tain gave me a cuff, and dragging mo
into the cabin, asked me how 1 had
dare.l to wake him that way when there
was no danger. I hurriedly told the
captain what had happened. He
rushed into the after cabin, and,
unlocking a drawer under his bunk,
took out several loaded revolvers, one
of which he gave me. Then he called
the mate, carpenter, and steward, and
gave each of them a revolver, and told
us to follow him. He went out on deck. j
and we stood by him, ready to defend .
c ’’sif we should be attacked. The
captain summoned the second mate and
told him to call all hands aft. The
mutineers came aft with ugly looks in
their faces. The captain told them that
if he had the time to spare he would put
into Rio Janeiro and have them punished
for mutiny. But ho wanted to continue
the voyage, and he proposed to
make them behave themselves.
They could have made nothing by
murdering him, he told them, for the
money which he was going to trade
with in China was all in bills of ex
change, which they could not have had
cashed. Then, raising his pistol, the
captain ordered the men to lay their
sheath knives and the empty pistols
they had taken from me on the capstan.
They quietlv obeyed him. The captain
then reprimanded the second mate for
having been in the habit of makiug
entries in his log book before his watch
went below. After he hail done with
him the captain pointed at me and
said:
“‘I appoint this young man third
mate. He shall live in the cabin and be
taught navigation. The first man who
touches him shall be shot. Now, men,
go about your business.’
“The sailors obeyed him, and they
completed the voyage without attempt
! ing another mutiny. 1 was taught navi
i gation, and slowly rose to be captain of
this ship, all of which never would have
happened if I had not stopped to think
at the critical moment when I was about
to leave the after cabin with the stolen
pistols in my hand.”— New York Time».
People Along the Elbe Shore.
One of the most pleasing traits, tome,
in the German character is the kindness
shown to animals. One is not made
miserable, as in Italy, by seeing the
i wretched, raw, bleeding horses straining
at an impossible load, kicked and lashed
into hopeless efforts to drag a weight far
I beyond their strength. On the contrary,
i the fine horses which draw the loads of
stone or wood are as well fed and
groomed as those between the shafts of
a carriage. Indeed, humanity would
here seem to be carried almost to ex
cess.
Particularly glad is one to see well
treated the good dogs which so willingly
drag about the little carts, reminding
one°of Ouida’s pathetic story, “A Dog
of Flanders.” I often see the market
women put down a sack for the good
beasts to lie on, and it is pleasant to hear
their cheerful greeting when their mis
tress returns; and amusing enough to
see two rivals barking excitedly at each
other, while the women, laughing, give
a help ng or restraining hand. All, too,
who have beeen in Germany will remem
ber the little wooden boxes fixed up in
trees or against houses for the birds to
make their homes in.
But though humane the Saxons are
fond of sport, their) king setting them a
good example, and there is plenty of
game to be found in the forests. Stags,
' roe-deer, hates, foxes and badgers are
apparently common, but there seem to
be neither wolves nor bears. — Schandau
Cor. Chicwjo Timet.
Then and Now.
Measles formerly carried off from five
to ten per cent, of the people. In the
last twenty-five years about two per
cent, of the mortality has been caused
by measles.
In London, from 1G75 to 1757, seven
to ten per cent, of the people died of
small-pox. From 1851 to 18U0, one per
cent, in England died from this disease.
Convulsions destroyed between 1701
and 1757 in London from twenty-seven
to thirty per cent; from 1848 to 1850
only three per cent.
Fevers were common ind destructive
lin former t ines: more than fifty per
! c nt. of the deaths in London, during
: the last quarter of the seventeenth and
, the first half ot the eighteenth century,
were irom fevers, but from 1851 to 1800
three per cent.
Teething iormerly caus'd a great num
ber of deaths: now very few.
| Consumption was formerly more de
' atructive than now. In England it for-
I merly caused seventeen per cent, of the
I deaths; now from ten to twelve. Some
! diseases formerly very destructive have
I disappeared. —ZWo Lewin.
A KENTUCKY COURT SCENE.
H3W A LOUISVILLE JUDGE EBB
SID~D JH A LAWLESS BEGIOM.
I rl>>X'"tr In a N n Complying XVII
ne«< on n l.llier—Where Siers e
< nr led the liny.
A recent letter from Louisville to the
( lilcago //. >•«//</, says: The chief trouble
attending the conviction of the despera
does whose acts of violence in some
sections of Kentucky have for years pro
duced a reiga of terror, and a cause
which is not understood by those who
only rend accounts of the crimes com
mitted, has been the failure on the part
of the prosecuting attorneys and crimi
nal judges to do their duty. This
failure is to be attributed to what may
best lie called "local influences,” If a
judge belongs to one faction, or owes
his election to a particulrr party, Ilia op
ponents at once declare their inability to
receive fair treatment at his hands, and
will fight rather than be tried. In one
of the counties where scores had been
killed who belonged to opposing fac
tions. and where houses were barricaded,
the law abandoned, where women and
children were armed, and the extermina
tion of the entire population a matter of
early possibility, the governor requested
Judge William L. Jackson, of the Louis
ville Circuit, to hold court. Nobody
thought the Louisville judge would com
ply. but in this they were mistaken, for
he proceeded forthwith to the scene of
bloodshed, quietly announced his pres
ence and made known his mission. These
facts excited the greatest curiosity
throughout the county, and when the
day of trial came on the whole populace
appeared in the court house with but
little exception. The first case, one of
murder, was called. All the witnesses
responded to their names save one. "We
must have that witness, Mr. Sheriff,” i
said the court, firmly.
“If your honor pleases I can't get him,” .
<iid the county sheriff.
“That's no excuse, sir; have him here I
without fail in four hours. Let the court {
stand adjourned until 2 o’clock.’’ And
as Judge Jackson finished speaking he |
arose from the bench with dignified ease, ;
calmly put on his hat and walked from
the court room alone, to the great aston
ishment of the natives, whose regular
judge would have remained until per
fectly satisfied that no enemy was near.
At 2 o clock court again convened. The
bawl of the sheriff, "Oh yes, oh yes, court
is now open,” had scarce died out before
Judge Jackson asked sternly: “Mr.
Sheriff, have you brought that witness
in court?”
The sheriff, answering in the nega
tive, gave as his reason for failure to
obey the court that he found the house
of the witness barricaded and full of
aimed mountaineers, who swore they
would kill any man who attempted to
enter.
“Mr. Sheriff," said the court, very
sharply, “such an excuse is not to be
thought of, and will not be entertained.
I want the witness here at 10 o’clock to
morrow morning, if you have to bring
him on a litter. Mark you, sir, a failure
to comply on your part will compel this
court to fine and imprison you to the full
extent of the law. Do your duty, sir.”
To say that the natives were aston
ished does not convey the slightest idea
of their true fee'ings. All that after
noon and next morning there was a uni
versal desire to sec the “city Jedge
close,” and the fellow who got to shake
hands with him had all the free drinks
he desired.
Court opened promptly st 10 o’clock .
“Mr. Sheriff, have you that witness?"
asked the court.
“Yes, your honor,” spoke the sheriff,
excitedly; “lie’s coming.’’
A curious sight presented itself now.
Half a dozen stalwart men appeared
i carrying another, who was the missing
witness. One ann hung limp at his side,
a leg refused to do its duty, blood trick
led from all over his head, and an im
mense bandage concealed one ey6.
“Stand up, sir," spoke the court, and,
with the aid ol his captors, the fellow
assumed as fair an upright position as
his wounds would permit.
“What do you mean by evading the
law?” asked the judge
“I didn't know it was your court, sir.
I thought they wanted to take mo to
Louisville for moonshining. I knew as
how there were deputy marshals about,
sir.”
“Mr. Clerk,” said the judge, “are
there any United States marshals in thia
section?"
The clerk said there were and that
they had warrants for the civil witness,
whereupon he directed the sheriff to
bring every one of them into court, an
order soon complied with. Eight
United States marshals faced the court.
“Gentlemen,” began the judge, “have
you warrants for any of these witnesses?
“Yes, sir, for nearly all of them, and
four for this chap,” answered a marshal,
! indicating the wounded man.
1 “Well, gentlemen, lam holding court
I here now, and if you interfere with me
in anv manner whatever. I’ll put you all
in jail for a year—every one of you. I>et
this case begin.”
The trial proceeded, and more convic
tions followed tom hid happened pre
viously in the whole life of the county of
Breathitt, which is now one of the best
in Kentucky and where capital is now
finding the richest cannel coal in the
world, England not excepted.
Judge Jackson recently went to
Letcher county st Governor Knott’s re
quest.
“Will you need a hundred men?”
asked a local friend of justice who well
knew the desperate affairs which had
marked every previous trial of the ac
cused.
"No,” thundered the Judge, “this
court, is equal to a hundred men itself."
This remark went the rounds like
wildfire, and during the long tria's
which followed enabled the court to
conduct its business without the slight
est jar.
As has been maintained by the Timet,
in dealing with Kentucky feuds theoniv
thing necessary to make peaceai le and
good citizens out of the law less men of
the nr> iiiitivns of Kentucky h is been the
need of men like Ju 'ge sack«on, who«e
nerve and firmness find respect as quickly
,wi h desperadoes as with peaceable citi
zens. Governor Knott expressed him
self as much pleased with the manner in
w lieh Judge Jack«on has conducted
court in the mounts'na. “I would
rath r send him to try these lawless peo
ple than a regiment of soldiers,” ob
served the governor in a conversation
recently.
The Potato.
No article of common food has been
inure abused than the humble potato.
Yet no other vegetable is capable of
being put to so many uses. It is the
rival of bread, and shares with it the
honor of always being found in its place
on our tables. Everybody, except some
dyspeptics, can cat potatoes, but it is
not every one who knows the best way
of eating them or of cooking them.
A baked potato is always nutritious.
Boiled potatoes are scarcely worth their
salt if they are left to soak in the kettle.
Mashc.l potatoes are good if served with
milk, pepper and salt.
Fried potatoes, sliced and fried in fat
or butter, arc palatable, but much harder
to digest than baked ones. The popular
“Saratoga chips” do not retain the dis
tinctive potato flavor, and have lost most
of its nutriment.
The most easy and effectual way to
secure the genuine flavor of the potato
is to cook it according to this rule:
Pare the potato and slice it up, but
not too thin; place the slices in a large
pie-dish, as if you were to make an
apple pie; pour into the dish a very little
water, drop a few slices of butter upon
the potatoes, sprinkle thcmjwith salt and
pepper, cover the whole with another
plate and set the dish in a hot oven.
Twenty minutes'time is sufficient for the
baking. The writer has tried this rule
and always with success. The potatoes
have a distinctive flavor to be gained by
no other method of cooking.
The history of the potato exhibits the
strength of prejudice and the cose with
which a trilling circumstance will often
remove it. The introduction of the po
tato into the gardens and on to the
tables of the people of Europe encoun
tered for more than two centuries, such
opposition that the philosophers of the
age were powerless to persuade the peo
ple to use the tuber.
Louis XV. of France one day wore a
bunch of potato flowers at a court festi
val. Then the people obsequiously ac
knowledged that tne potato might be
useful, and in a few years its cultivation
ns an article of food became universal.
The potato's stalk produces in Austria
a cottony tlax. In Sweden sugar is ex
tracted from its roots. By combustion
it yields a quantity of potash. Its
apples, when ripe, ferment and yield
vinegar by exposure, or spirit by distil
lation. Its tubercles made into a pulp
re used as a substitute for soap in
bleaching. By different manipulations
it is made to furnish two kinds of flour,
a gruel, and a cellular pith which in
times of scarcity may bo made into
bread or applied to increase the bulk
of bread made from grain. Its starch is
little, if at all, inferior to the Indian
arrowroot.
The potato is a native of South Amer
ica; but the cultivated plant yields a
product infinitely superior in quantity
and quality to its wild brother. Ono of
the sentences in a Dakota orator’s speech
eulogized the potato. Ho said:
"Very often an entire family in Da
kota sits upon one end of a potato
while the other end is roasting in the
fire!”
Louis XV. would have been proud of
his potato blossom bouquet could ho
have foreseen such a growth of the
potato uh this Dakota variety. Yout/u
Companion.
An Expensive Chronometer.
The following anoedute is very charac
tcristic: One of Astor’s best captains had
made six voyages to China without a
chronometer, but just before sailing on
his seventh voyage ho suggested to Mr.
Astor that it would bo safer to have one.
"Get one," said the millionaire.
The captain did so. and entered its
cost on the account current. When
Astor’s eye fell upon the item he drew
his pen through it. The captain ex
postulated.
“Deuce take it, man,” said Astor, “I
told you to get one, but I did not say I
would pay for it.”
The old seaman left Mr. Astor’s em
ployment at once and wont down town,
anil before night was In command of ns
fine a ship as ever floated. In three days
he set sail. At the same time Astor’s
ship, under a new commander, also set
sail. The voyage to Hong Kong was
very clo-e, but the captain who, as he
used to say, had “discharged John
Jacob Astor,” by keeping the men at the
braces, took advantage of every breath
of wind and won by three days. The
ship was loaded in the shortest possible
time, und before Astor’s vessel, which
had arrived in the incan tftne, was half
loaded our captain weighed anchor, and
with a full cargo of tea sailed for New
York. He arrived in time and
hoisted out the cargo, which was sold at
auction on the spot. The market was
thereby overstocked, and when Astor’s
ship arrived the price had fallen. Home
time afterward, as the captain was walk
ing down Broadway, he met Mr. Astor.
“How much did that chronometer cost
you?” the latter asked.
“Six hundred dollars.”
“Well,” said Astor, “that was cheap;
it cost me $80,000.”
Mr. Astor was actively engaged in
business for over forty years, in 1830
he retired with a fortune of #20,000,000,
which in the next eighteen years doubled
itself by the simple process of compound
interest. Mr. Astor’s last years were
passed at his town residence, on Broad
way, opposite Niblo’s Garden. Towards
the close of his life his body became
feeb’e. but h smind retained much of its
original vigor. On the 2 th of March,
1888, he died, in the B.sth year of his age.
The bulk of his fortune was left to his
favorite child, William B. Astor, who
was already worth four millions. Moro
than half a million was left for benevo
lent purposes. Besides $400,000 to the
library, $50,000 were left to the poor of
bis native village in Germany, $30,000
to the German Society of New York,
30,000 to the Home for Aged Ladies,
$5,000 to the German Orphan Asylum,
etc. — New York World.
The Days That Arc Gone.
L
I met her by the sandy shore,
Where wo, together viewed the sea;
And listening to ite far-ott roar,
She vowwl sue Would bo true to rno.
11.
The winter '-am": her heart did rove,
An I she exp ainel, this danisel vain,
"1 »ai<l I would io urn ymr love:
I meant I d give it back again.”
-T,d Bite.
THE MYTHICAL MILLIONS.
DELUDED AMBBIOAV CLAIMANTS
OB BSTGUSK EBTATBS.
swindling Sleheincv tor the Henetltot
1 nerrnpulona jlffento—Properllev
That Ilxler Only In liunglMatlon.
A p iper on the suojcct of unclaimed
sstatea in England, prepared under tho
direction of Minister Lowell by Henry
White, one tho American secretaries of
legation, has been sent by tlio President
to Congress with other state papers.
“There seems to be no doubt,” Mr.
White says, “that many are led to believe
themselves heirs to vast estates in Great
Britain by designing persons on both
sides of tho ocean, who insert notices in
newspapers in tho I nited States that a
large property left by a person of the
same name with that ot some well known
family of the same district, or of some
exceedingly common name likely to oc
cur anywhere, such as Brown or Jones,
o: who distribute far and wide lists of
unclaimed estates which do not exist.
Large sums of money are annually
thrown away by the dupes of these ad
vertisements and fictitious lists, end a
handsome revenue is made by the
agents, as they call themselves, for the
discovery of lost heirs and the recovery
of unclaimed estates. The modus oper
andi usually adopted by those agents is
to ask first for a remittance of .22 or £B,
to cover tho coat of copying tho will
upon which the claim purports to
be based; then a larger sum for the
expenses of instituting inquiries; and as
each successive stage more blackmail is
levied, the correspondence being so
cleverly conducted that several years fre
quently elapse before the fraud is dis
covered. None should contribute a
dollar to unknown agents, especially to
ward anj- expenses connected with es
tablishing claims to estates in this coun
try, until inquiry has been made of*
counsel hero first, as to the existence of
tho estate, and then as to the chances ot
its recovery. lam told by reputable so
licitors that not one claim in a thousand
of all those referred to them by tho lega
tion has had any validity whatever, and
very few, during their long experience of
claims from America, have been success
ful,”
Mr. White describes the results of in
quiries relating to the “Jonncns Estate,”
in which there were many American
claimants, showing that tho property
went to tho heirs-at-law long before
American claimants were ever heard of,
and that the latter never had the
“shadow of a title to it.” Moreover,
had the title once been a good one It
would long since have become worthless
by the operation of the statute of limi
tations.
“Any [attempt, therefore,” continues
Mr. White, “ to recover real estate from
the crown or individuals after a lapse of
twelve years) which may bo extended to
thirty under certain circumstances), and
personal property after a lapse of twenty
years, however valid the claim of the
twreou making the attempts may have
boon originally, is certain to end in fail
ure.
“All members, consequently, of the
•Jonncns Association 'of the United
States of America’ may rest assured that
their subscriptions arc simply money
thrown away, if their object be the re
covery of (he Jcniieus estate. Recently
a letter was received here from a mem
ber of the aforesaid ’Jonnens Associa
tion,’ who hud just been notified that a
general assessment of $5 had been levied
for the year ending June 30, 1884, and
who, before paying tho eaiue, inquired
whether tho legation could furnish any
Information regarding the Jonnens os
ti to, said to be pending before the court
of chancery in England.’ ”
Himilar to thin are tho “Hedges es
tate,” the “Bradford estate,” the “Hyde
citato,” the “Horne estate,” and many
others winch arc described as among
“the ordinary myths by which so many
of our countrymen have been beguiled.”
With regard to large sums supposed
to bo awaiting American claimants in the
bank of England, Mr. White quotes
from a letter written by the chief ae
countant of that institution as follows:
“There are no amounts of unclaimed
stock or dividends standing in our books.
Speaking generally without having made
an exit.illative research, would involve
some cons durable labor, there are very
few amounts of .1! 1,000, ami
probably none that exceed this sum by
more than £IOO or £21)0."
In regard to the fabulous fortunes
lock' dup in chancery, he says: “To
judge from the letters received at the
legation from tho United State) Ju ref
erence to tho unclaimed funds in chan-'
eery, many of our countrymen must im
ugine tbit institution to be a depository
of incalculable millions, a goodly share
of which can bo easily withdrawn upon
the mere institution of a claim to tho
same by tho American minister sod
without le jireincnt by the court of any
particulars as to the name of the suit,
the relationship of the claimant to the
parties mentioned therein or to the
original owner of the estate c airned. It
is very rarely that in any communication
sent us on this subject a smaller sum is
mentioned than several millions, and
frejuently our correspondents state that
they are entitled to twenty, fifty, and
ev n more, millions. It will doubtless
cause some surprise and disappointment
to such uh these to be informed that tho
whole amount of money in the custody
of the court of chancery at the present
time is about £84,000,000, of which
£83.000,000 belong to the owners who
ar" unknown, h aving about one million
onlv at unclaimed or dormant funds.”
A Turtle at the Opera.
a New York letter to the Boston
One well known society lady
made a pet of a small turtle, which she
dressed in a pink Hilk dress and took to
the opera with her the carried it to
the opera house in her pocket, and when
she got there p need it on the railing in
front of the box with her boquets. There
it wool 1 walk up and down, and stick
its uglv head out of its shell und ogle
the Lida s in the neighboring boxes.
“Do -ci Xiche'tc.” she would exchiiin,
put ing the turtle on its back : "has she
not love yey s?” All tiie gentlemen
wo ild say that she had indeed, while in
th ir hearts thev would want ta take her
by the tail :ut<l fire her into th:; orches
tra.
It is a siu'/ular fact that but one
l>g is '-20 gold niece has ever been
discovered, and this bea » the die ot
D'so.