Newspaper Page Text
MnnHuel.
I—III mi i— ■ ■ • '=' ■»
HARLEM, (NMMMMA
PfVNMvna* Kvm r rut mu a r.
**Uard «*• AtHtnonrk.
Tlin latest tr iveUar's yarn is of s tree
in the northeastern part of New Guinea
which is Miid to consist alm< >t wholly of
f ! amorphous rarlxiti and to [kioscks the
projx rtics of an electric Lattery to such
an extent that when its discoverer
touched it ho was !>::'•< ked to tin
ground,
Massachusetts has expended $90,000
in the last twenty years in trying to
st/s k her ponds and rivers with fish, in
the rivers the effort proves a complete
failure, and so far as trade results are
cones rm d the report* are discouraging.
Ponds, leased and protected by sporting
clubs, have Is en *ticec - fully stocked,
ruid that is nlxiiit all
The fruit production of California Is
something wonderful. During I**s she
produced in raisins over 9,000,500
pounds, or nearly three times as much as
in JMM Hhc also sent to market last
year 1,500,000 ponds of prunes, 1,823,-
000 pounds of apples, 1,000.000 pounds
of peaches, 1,139,000 pounds of plums,
050,<K>0 pounds apricots, 2,250,000
pounds of homy, 1,250,000 js>un<ls of
walnut-, and 1,050,000 |s>unds almond*.
'flic New York f/mpAie thus furthers a
I new cause: “If you know anything
slcflnitc ami pisitlve about g'.osta, gob
i tins, spooks or things uncanny, the
! American society for psychinl n-s<an hos
Boston has established a s|>ecinl com
mittee on apparitions and haunted houses
I tlial will be plca-ed to hear from you
| and collate the evidence in the ease. At
[ the request of the committee we state
that the secretary's address is Morton
i Prince, M. !>., Boston, Mass."
| The manufacture of a universal Inn-
I gunge seems a* fitM'innting ns the inven
tion of a flying machine. There are said
to Im- sixty societies and numerous pro
feasors in different part* of Europe and
1 America hard at work propagating the
■ new univeninl language of Volnpm k.
I Dictionaries of V<dapu< k in the Euro
pean mid u few Oriental languages i n-t.
There are two Volapuck reviews, mid a
I course of free lessons in it have been
' begun by n French nssoehition.
The hut report of the statistician of
i the United Stall s department of agrieul
’ turn states thnt the American draft hor-e
j of the future, by the introduction of
j famous European breeds, is to be a
heavier mid stronger animal than hereto
. fore. Sheep husbandry is in deeper de
I pression than any other animal industry
I of the country, tlie Inst miiiiinl decrease
| in number Is ing about 2.000,000. With
I all stock except sheep th■■ number has
| increased, but the aggregate valuation
■ this year of farm animals is less than that
I of lust year by something ovi r f 100,000,
000. '
111 the new British Rouse ol Commons
there are 75 mi-mliers who own more than
3000 acres of land each, with a rental
value us mon’ than $15,000 a year. Out
of the above numlx-r there lire two who
own 100,000 m re-, and three others nion
than 50.(HR) acres, mid the possessions of
I acventia nos them cxwd 10,000 acres
I each. As regards rentals, Sir John
| Ranwdtm is at the head with near n mil- *
I lion of dollars per annum, followed by
' Kir John St Aubyn with mar $500,000
I Four other rentals exceed $150,000. The
j rentals of twenty-eight m< inte rs range
■ from $.50,000 to $150,000.
Mr. E. L. Baker, our consul general nt
I Buenos Ayres, has recently rejiorted to
I the state department the discovery of
■ gold in Patagonia. According to the
! report of the commission appointed by
' tin Argentine Republic to ex imine th
- deposits, they are of a«U|a'rior el os, mid
I “there is abundance both of gold mid
platinum " Mr. Baker says the on- is
believed to lie richer than that of Cali
funds or Australia. N 4 the least inter
eating fact ateiut this di-cox <ry is that
the new gold Held* arc easily ace< —ibl, .
The deposits an* said to extend from
Cape Virgin, on the northern shore of
the Straits of Magellan, through which
tmmy vess, 1» pass every year, nortliw ltd
along the Atlantic coast for forty oi fifty
mile*.
A gulden ashte'X is a rarity, and <. ont
find- himself interested in this bit out o!
Neignan's “From Paris to Pekin." Say,
tlii» writer: “1 will refer to the cigar-asl
receptacle, w here the smokers in the sa
km drop the end of their cigarettes, ac
cording to the Russian custom, aftcrames
cotnfioaed of a pure nugget of gold wvrtl
£ 16(H) sterling, ami just in the rough
alate iu which it hail tes-n found iu th<
mine. The frar has |H-ruutted iu an ex
ccptional case. M Kouonictrof to retair
|wa«K*sion of thia nugget in his louse or
account of the rarity of stu b a god* nd.
The proprietor of this treasure did me
omit to inform me thnt having the
precious receptacle few thirty years hr ha,
lost not merely the £l*tX) sterling, bu'
also the interest 42M()0 and that eon
•rqueatly this luxury had cost him UW
Prufevsor Lesley, estimating the amount
•f coal in the Pitt.burg r gion at about
thirty b Ilion of tons a practically inex
h lustiblc amount -holds, concerning oil
and gas, however, very different views,
lb -avs, u|«>n deliberate study : “I take
th<- opportunity to expo-s my opinion in
the strongest t-mis thnt the amazing ex
hibition of oil and gas which has char
mterized the last twenty years, and will
probably characterize the next ten ol
twenty years, is m-verthelcsi, not only
geologically but historically, n temporary
and vanishing phenomenon -one which
young men will live to sec come to its
natural end Arid this opinion Ido not
entertain in any loose or unreasonable
form; it is the result of both an active
and a thoughtfiil acquaintance with thr
subject. ”
It is istimated by insurance companies
that in tin- United Stati s Inst year dwell
mg h uses wer" burned at the rate of
one every hour, with an average loss of
$1394. Birns and stables, fifty per week.
Country stores, three per day, with n loss
of $11<),0o )pir wi k. Ten hotels burn
weekly, wit'i alo-s pry -ar of $1,000,-
000. Every other day a lumber yard
goes up in smoke, each representing
$20,000. Forty four cotton factories,
the loss in each ' use te-ing $28,000; forty
three woolen mills nt $25,000 each and
forty two i h< mi< al work- at s27,ooocue)'
were destroyed by lire last year. Forty
two lr«,t and shoe factories were con
sumed, the loss being $17,0 )0 each.
Theatres were lapped up by tin- flames at
the rate of five pi r month ; average loss
$19,000. Only about half as many court
housi * wi re destroyed, the cost of each
being about $20,000.
- ——.
Charged by n Bison.
In William T. Hornaday's “Two Years
in tin Jungle," the following thrilling
account of being charged by u bison is
given. “After a long chase," he snys,
“we came up with the bison, and saw
him standing about eighty yards off. I
wim armed with a .500 express rifle, and
instantly fired, but unfortunately only
wounded the animal. lie dashed away.
With a party of Irulnrs (natives), 1 fol
lowed, and cnnie upon him a mile further
on. The instant lie caught sight of me,
hi- turned to charge, when I fired again,
and he gallop -d mndly off into the forest.
We followed down the side of the hill,
and I was locking about, trying to mnk<
out wliiTe In- could have gone, when 1
caught sight of hia nose nut two feet
from me. lb- hud backed himself into u
dense matt of creep r*, n:i 1 was lying in
wait fur me. "In half a second, with a
snort like a steam-engine, le- sent me fly
ing through the air. I fell mi my bu k,
and wns immediately struck a blow on
my ribs thnt made them spring inward,
a- the top of a hencoop would with a
lu aiy man sitting on it. 1 felt that my
la-t hour had come. He struck me
with his head again and again, some
times on my breast, back mid sides,
sometimes on my thighs, while again he
only struck the ground in his blind fury.
I ti lt that nothing could save me. He
tiled to turn in ’ over with hi- nose, that
lie might pierce me with hia horns, and
gi tting one horn under my b It, he ai tu
nlly lifted me up bodily. Luckily it was
an old belt, ami ta- buckle snapped. I
sie/ed his horn and held mi to it with all
my strength. In trying to shake himself
free, he took th* whole of the skin off
the under side of inv right arm with his
horn. The whole of this time, no less
than six Irulurs natives had been er.liii
li looking on, mid I heard one of th- in say :
“ 'Dear me! the bison is killing the
gentleman!’
"Another said, ‘send for the n.’.ii. m
to shoot It.’
"The s/ißiire. was two miles away
with my tiffin basket! One of the
Irular* now uttered a most diabolical yell.
The bison thn w up his he:ul, then turned
tail mid dished down the hill. The
next day 1 was carried into Coimbatore,
where I was confined to my bed fora
fortnight, my whole body being black
and blue. Ni v. rtheless, that bison',
head now adorns my dining room.”
Illc Curative I'ewer of Nature.
The old writers rce.'gtiized, in n blind
sort of way, that then' was a force in the
organism which tended toward recovery
from disease. This they called “the
curative power of nature." On:' of the
glorious triumphs of mo I era medicine is
a more perfect apprei iation of this great
fait. “To let well enough alone," and
to not weaken or prevent the action of
any organ or structure iink-s it is clear
that Mum thing is to be gained bi so
doing, are the results of this fact being
da v apprei .t. I The “kill or e'ire"
dis trine is utterly abandoned by all who
have any real knowledge of modern sci
<ll ■<*.
In order to oecure the full operation of
“the curative |>ower of nature” the sick
d. g go. - may by himself and obtains
rest and quiet All the intelligent ani
mals do tile soon . Rest for the debili
tated tesiy, or of tin |x'rt:en of it injur
es! by i-vi-nts. or disease, is one of the
most < th, lent metbmls of obtaining a res
toration to health. The signs that rest
is needed may be visible only tx> thoae
who hart studied the action of the organs
in a healthy stair. Rest of one jiart mar
bring injury to health organs. Exerciseof
th« naiur-.l power- in health is generally
the only tmthixi of securing their future
healthy actis-u.
Life Piel ares.
A glow at morn:
The rree half tempted into blooming re 1
Bright hope* just born
That ere the eve, must shod
Their |»tefs, though we never deem them
daad.
A warmth at noon,
Full souh-l ami odorous; and life all fair
As summer moon,
When star, lace beams as rare
As laughter which hath not behind some care.
A rest at eve:
The ardor and the heat of day is o'er.
Hope can ileceive
No longer, life no more
Can weave romances from a jxiet's
A hush at night:
We fold our wings as birds that seek the next.
Earth is badight
With rose no more. The zest
Os lifusinks with the sunlight in the west.
• sea
It Is no dream.
No nuitle t.nil .ing time, that we call life
To catch the gleam ,
Os heaven in the strife.
Our toil must tend to reach the better life.
There is much rixim
For gratitude, much n»rn tor tendernesa
In all the glisini
Os sorrow, much to bless,
If we will labor more, and niunnur less.
Ix-t us not turn
To s s-k in clouds our happiness, but try
Each day to learn
That near home blessings lie.
This.-die bi live who first have lived to die.
—Harriet. Kendall, in the Quiver.
A COUNTRY COUSIN.
“Yea, I remember her very well,” said
Miss Ni-mourvillc. “A black-eyed romp,
chasing the wild horses all over the farm,
and pitching hay up on the mow, exactly
as if she were a boy. Our third cousin,
wasn’t she -or fourth, or some such far
away kin? But what of her?"
“What of-hcr?" snarled old Colonel
Nemourville. “Why, just this. Her
folks are dead. And one of the officious
Meadow Hill clergymen has written to
us, asking us to adopt her. Just as if
we hadn't enough to trouble us, with
three daughters on hand already, and no
earthly chance, that I can see, of their
getting married” (this last envenomed
phrase accompanied by n gloomy contrac
tion of the speaker's shaggy brows),
“without assuming the charge of all crea
tion into the bargain! Adopt her, in
deed! Why, w hit claim has she onus,
I’d like to know? The impudence of
some people?"
“We couldn’t possibly think of such a
thing! ’ said Mrs. Nemourville, an elder
ly lady, with a good deal of powder sift
ed skillfully over her features, and a lace
cap patterned after the latest French
models. “Our income scarcely meets
our expenses as things are at present. 1
do wonder at the assurance of those peo
ple out there!"
The Nemourville family had always
kindly remembered their relationship to
Mrs. Vassail when the vertical sunbeams
of July and August made city life a bur
den to them, mid their purse strings,
straightened by the ceaseless attempt to
keep up a style far above their means,
refused to admit of a trip to Newport,
Saratoga or the White Mountains.
Mr- Vassail had welcomed them with
the sweet grai iousness of thnt hospitality
which comes from the he irt. Lassie, the
“black-eyed romp,” had shown Blanche,
Vera and E litha Nemourville the nooks
where the clearest springs bubbled out,
and the dells where feathery sprays of
mnidcn-hnir could be gathered by the
double handful, and no pains were spared
to make things pleasant for the city cou
sins during their somewhat prolonged
visits.
But all this conveniently effaced itself
from their memory now .
Adopt Lassie Vassell! Make them
selves responsible for her board, and
clothes, and bulging? Good heavens!
What were people thinking of?
So Colonel Nemourville wrote back a
polite declination, fairly glittering with
its icy conventionalities.
Lassie Vassal, sitting in her deep-black
robes, heard the good clergyman's wife
read it twice over before she fairly com
prehended its meaning.
“Don’t they want me to go to them?"
she asked, lifting the heavy, black-fring
ed lids that were wi ighteil down with
tears.
"I'm afraid they don’t, dear," said the
clergyman's w ife.
Lassie drew a deep sigh.
"Then 1 must try to find some wav of
earning my own living," sard she. “You
have nil been so good to me, but it must
come to an end sooner or later. Dear
Mrs. Hall, won’t you go and see that ladv
who wanted a nursery governess to travel
with her little children to Scotland? I
always liked children, and they fortu
nately don’t require many accomplish
ments. I dread crossing the ocean a
little, but I must try to leave off being a
coward.”
So the Nemourvilles heard nothing
further of Lassie Vassell.
But the girl herself did not forget all
this.
"They might have te'en a little kind
to me," she kept repeating to herself.
"They might have been a little kind to
me!"
The Nemoorvillca meanwhile bravely
kejit upx although against wind and tide,
the struggle f ir a satisfactory matrimonial
•ettlement for Blanche. Vera and Editha.
They gave five-o’clock tea*, purple
dinners and pink lunches; they sent out
cards for eoireet; went to all the charity
b.dls, kirm sse» and chance-parties to
which they could obtain an intree. Th -y
smiled, and simpered, and danced, and
promenaded with Spartan endurance;
and still they remained the Misses Ne
mourville.
But when the waves of aociety were
rippled by rumors of the advent of a live
English baronet, Blanche, Vera and
Editha began to hope anew.
Mi.-a Clitchett, one of their particular
friends, had been introduces! to Sir Iteve
' K< nnett at a Delmon co bull, and she had
promised to ask the Nemourville girls to
a charade party where the English bar
onet was to lie present.
Miss Nemourville ordered a new dress
of white brocade. Vera ordered Madam
Petheriquc to make over her cherry satin
with flounces of black Escurial lace and
a train a full quarter of a yard long.
Editha, who enacted the juvenile role,
ripped her one white muslin to pieces
anil remade it, with puffs and plcatings
of Spanish blonde and occasional knots
of the palest blue ribbon.
But they were doomed to the saddest
disappointment. They went to the party.
So did Sir Revo Kennett. But somehow
they could not get near the reigning star.
“DI never forgive Cornelia Clitchett!”
said Miss Nemourville, as pale as her
own brocade. “She hasn't taken any
more notice of us than if we were those
big china jars iu the corner!”
“She meant a deliberate insult!” gasp
ed Vera.
But they were wrong. It was only
that jh or (' irnclia Clitchett had entirely
forgotten all about them in the rush and
crush end excitement of the evening.
“How handsome he is!” said Editha.
“Oh, oh, why can't we get an introduc
tion? Look, look! he's coming this way.
Who is that lady on his arm—the tall
lady in white, with the magnificent eyes
and the necklace of pearls?”
“Don't you know?” said Mrs. De Sain
tin. “It’s Lady Kennett.”
“Lady Kennett?"
“His wife,” explained Mrs. De Saintin,
graciou ,ly. “He is here on his wedding
tour. Lady Kennett is charming. They
arc to give a ball at the Windsor Hotel,
in return for the hospitalities they have
received here.”
“Oh!” said the three Misses Nemour
ville, in concert.
“Haven’t you been introduced?” asked
Mrs. De Saintin. “No? Pray allow me
the pleasure!”
And presently Sir Reve and Lady Ken
nett were b iwing their acknowledgment
of the profuse courtesies of the Misses
Nemourville.
If the English guests had been crown
ed monarchs, these damsels could not
fnave been more obsequious.
Sir Reve was tali and strikingly hand
some. Lady Kennett had fine eyes and
a graceful figure, but was not otherwise
remarkable.
"Nemourville!” she repeated. “Did
you say Nemourville?”
"A pretty name, isn’t it?” said Mrs.
De S lintin.
"But it is not new to me,” said Lady
Kennett, smiling. “I have met these
ladies before.”
“I'm sure, your ladyship, I don't know
how that could be," said Blanche, quite
fluttered with the idea of addressing a
lady of title.
"Oh, I declare, your ladyship!” gig
gled Vera.
"Your ladyship is making fun of us,"
said artless Editha.
"Oh, but lam quite certain of it!"
said Lady Kennett, iu her slow, graceful
way. “Y’ou,” to the elder, “are Blanche,.
aren’t you? And you are Vera? And
this is Editha? Now, am I not right? Is
it possible that you have forgotten me?”
The three Misses Nemourville would
not for the world have suspected an En
glish baronet’s lady of inaccuracy.
But they certainly viewed her with re
spectful incredulity and amazement.
"I am Lassie,"said she—“ Lassie Vas
sal], who used to pick blackberries and
gather autumn leaves with you. lam
your cousin three times removed!”
The three Misses Nemourville were
straightway lifted from comparative in
significance to the top wave of populari
ty. As three elderly spinsters, they had
i een rather drugs in the market than
otherwise. But as Lady Kennett’s cou
sin-, the dawn of a new social existence
was brightening over them.
"You darling!” cried Blanche, when
she cime to lunch nt the Windsor Hotel,
the next day, with Sir Reve and Lady
Kennett. “Now you must tell me, how
did it all happen?"
"1 don't know, I am sure," said Las
sie, timidly. “I went to Scotland as a
nurse y-governess with a lady who was a
friend of good Mrs. Hall’s; and at Loch
Lomond we met Sir Reve. and—and—"
’ And I can teil the rest," said Sir
Reve, laughingly, taking up the dropped
chain of Lassie’s words. “And Sir Reve
fell in love with you, and he would give
you no peace at all until you married him
, —eh, little girl?”
And as Lassie smiled shyly up at him,
Blanche Nemourville could not but ac
knowledge to herself that this third cou
sin of hers had wonderful dark eyes.
“But for all that," she afterward told
Editha and Vera, "I can*t sec what there
was in Lassie Vassail to attract such a
man a* Sir Reve Kennett. If it had been
; me, now, or either »f you—"
“Yes,” nodded the two other sisters, '
‘•if it hud been either of u»! But a mere
country chit, right off the farm, without
a particle of style about her!”
And then they all three cried in chorus:
“It's quite unaccountable!',’ — Helen
Fvrreet Grarei.
Why Be is Proud.
“There is one thing in my life,” said a
veteran, “that sends the blood through
my veins in proud exultation to this day,
and the thought of it never comes to me
but what I want to step outside of myself
and pat myself on the shoulder. There
are hundreds of things in my life that I
am ashamed of, and that I would gladly
forget. There are hundreds of things
that I have done which never come to
my mind without making me wish that I
had the power to kick myself from one
end of the street to the other. But the
memory of this one thing that I did is a
compensation for all the things that I am
ashamed of.
“In one of the squarest, fairest, fiercest
battles of the war. 500 men were thrown
forward to check for a moment the
furious charge of twenty times as many
Confederates. Os the 500 men in line at
the beginning of the charge, five stood at
the end by the colors. I was one of the
five, and I never think of the hail of bul
lets, of the hurricane swoop of charging
thousands that swept men to sudden
death or away before it like chaff in the
wind, but I see those five sullen, desper
ate, white-faced, stubborn men gathered
in a startled group about the torn and
blood-stained flag that had been down
and up a good many times. Dazed they
were, half-crazed they were, by the over
whelming catastrophe, but the instinct ot
clinging to the flag was there.
“My comrades were better soldiers than
I. They were men whose eyes flashed,
and whose nostrils widened when conflict
became furious, and it was a delight tc
me in that minute to know that in thii
hour of trial my controlling impulse, my
instinctive move had been the same as
■theirs, to cling to the flag. I had no
idea, then that, we would live five min- :
utes, and yet I exulted in the thought
that when put to trial I had done my full
duty. We brought the flag out of the
fight. Four of the men are living yet, i
but they have not met since the war. i
They are all in humble walks of life, and
not one of them is given to self-adulation,
but to all of them that incident of battle (
is a precious memory. After that, as one
of the old codgers said in iiis own quaint
way, ‘They were a leetie too proud evei
to do a cowardly thing again.’ ”—Chica
go Inter- Oc an.
Silenced.
The Scotch often use humor to settle a
question which, otherwise, might give
rise to an excited argument, involving
much hair splitting logic. The follow
ing anecdote of Norman McLeod, the ;
eloquent preacner, illustrates this happy
use of the wit which transfixes a man as
an entomologist does a bug. He was or.
his xvay to church, to open a new place
of worship. As he passed slowly and
gravely through the crowd gathered
about the doors, an elderly man, with |
the peculiar kind of a xvig known in that
district—bright, smooth, and of a red
dish brown—accosted him.
“Doctor, if you please, I xvish to speak
to you.”
“Well, Duncan,” said the venerable
doctor, “can not you wait till after wor
ship?"
“No, doctor, I must speak to you now,
for it is a matter upon my conscience.”
“Oh, since it is a matter of conscience,
teil me what it is; but be brief, Duncan*
for time passes.”
“The matter is this, doctor. Ye see ;
the clock yonder, on the face of this new '
church? Well, there is no clock really
there; nothing but the face of a clock.
There is no truth in it but only once in
the twelve hours. Now, it is in my mind
very wrong, and quite against my con
science, that there should be a lie on the
face of the house of the Lord.”
“Duncan, I will consider the point.
But I am glad to see you looking so well.
You arc not young now; I remember
you for many years; and what a fine
head of hair you have still.”
“Eh, doctor, you arc joking now; it
is long since I have had any hair.”
“O Duncan! Duncan! are you going
into the house of the Lord with a lie
upon your head ?”
This, says the story, settled the ques
tion; and the doctor heard no more of
the lie on the face of the clock.
Byrou Swinimln? the Hellespont.
It was in May, 1810, that Lord Byron,
iu emulation of Leander, swam across
the Hellesjxmt. The distance, however,
being two miles from the European to
the Adriatic side, when he reached the
latter, from exhaustion, he was compelled
to seek repose in the hut of a Turkish
fisherman, where he remained carefully
attended by the wife for five days. Upon
his departure, his lordship, whose rank
and fame were unknown to the Turkish
peasants, received a gift of a loaf, some
cheese, a skin of wine and the blessings
of Allah. In return Byron sent the fish
erman a few fishing-nets, a fowling piece
and several yards of silk for his wife.
The Turk, overwhelmed with gratitude,
resolved to cross the Hellespont to thank
his unknown guest, but in the passag.
his boat was upset, and the poor fellow
met with a watery grave.
'AN ODD CHARACTER.
Anecdotes of an Old Ken
tucky Congressman.
How He Defeated His Opponent and How
He Won a Law Suit.
A Washington letter to the Minneapo
lis Tribune, says: One of the characters
in the House is General \Volford of Ken
tucky. When he is at home he wears an
old flannel shirt and trousers strapped
about his waist. When he came here he
found he had to change his costume and
put on a “biled” shirt and black clothes.
At first he was averse to this, but some
friends bought him a black suit. He has
worn it ever since, and this is his second
term. But he would not dare to go home
dressed as he is now, for his constituents
would think he had become effeminate.
Several good stories arc told of his first
campaign when he took the stump against
General Fry. When he was first nomi
nated for Congress, General Fry asked
him to unite with him and make several
speeches together. Wolford accepted
the invitation. The first meeting xvas
enough for General Fry. General Wol
ford commanded the first Kentucky cav
alry in the Union army, and the regiment
was known as the “critterbacks.” He
had several of his men on the platform
with him when he made his speech. He
opened most brilliantly, but suddenly
startled General Fry by asking the as
semblage if they knew what the Union
had done with General Lee after he sur
rendered at Appomattox. “Why, gen
tlemen, will you believe it, when he was.
out walking under an apple tree, near the
very hotise xvhere. he surrendered, they
grabbed him. Y'es, the men who had
granted him a parole seized him, and,
sir, they not only did that, but they
hung General Lee to the very apple tree
under which he was walking! Hung
him dead!” General Fry at first was so
surprised he could not speak, but jump
ing to his feet, he said: “General Wol
ford, you know that is not so. General
Lee was never hung.”
“But, sir,” exclaimed General Wolford,
“I was there, and I know it is so.
Wasn’t it, John!" and he turned to one
i of his “critter-backs.” The man nodded
his head, as did the others, who sat near
him. General Fry sat back in his chair
• overcome.
“This is net all,” said General Wol
ford, turning to the crowd in front of him
“The Union men locked Jeff. Davis up
in Fortress Monroe, and one beautiful
moonlight night xvhen the tide was low,
they took him out and tied him to a
stake on the beach. The sea came in
gradually, the waves swept over him and
he was drowned, and they stood and
heard his cries.”
This was too much for General Fry.
Again he protested and said that Jeff.
Davis was alive still, but the “critter
backs” endorsed General Wolford, and
seeing that his opponent intended to*
keep the thing up, General Fry xvithdrew
aud General Wolford was elected by a
rousing majority.
Another story is told of General Wol
ford when he was trying a case in his na
tive toxvn in Adair county, Kentucky.
His client had been charged xvith poison
ing some one. The chemist for the state
had testified to finding arsenic in the
stomach of the deceased, and then Gen
eral Wolford took the witness in hand.
“Do you find any flies’ wings in the
stomach?” asked the general. “No, sir,
i for I did not look for any. I found ar
i senic," answered the chemist.
“Could you swear that there were no
I flies’ wings in the stomach?” he asked.
“No, sir, because I did not look for
them.”
“How did you know they were not
there?”
“I don’t say they were not. ”
“That’s funny; you say you found ar
senic but no fly wings. Y'et you are not
certain as to tiieir not being there,” said
General Wolford. The witness in vain
tried to explain, the lawyer had twisted
the witness up, and so lie addressed the
jury. “Gentlemen, I demand the aquit
tal of my client. This chemist says he
found arsenic in the stomach of the de
ceased, but no fly wings. Yet everybody
knows that when any one swallows one
or two flies they turn to arsenic in the
stomach, yet no fly wings xvere found;
therefore I doubt if there was any arsenic
there either.” The man was acquitted!
Thonght He Needed One.
Scene: Jones’s dressing-room.
Brown: “Ah-h, Jones, what have we
here?”
Jones: “Oh, that’s a tidy I bought
at the church fair, don’t you know.
Charming girl—Miss De Johnson—
bought it at her table, you know. Real
ly couldn’t help myself, she smiled so
sweetly and said I’d find it so useful.”
Brown: "Did she though! Why man.
it’s one of these crocheted washrags.”—
Life.
The Name Appropriate.
‘‘What a queer name for a bonnet!”"
exclaimed Mrs. Snaggs, as she was read
ing the fashion notes in last night’s paper.
"What is it?” asked her husband.
“The 'Giraffe.’ It has just been intro
duced in Paris.”
“I expect the altitude of the price
makes the name very appropriate,” ex
plained buaggs.— Pittsburg Chronicle.