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COLUMBUS
ENQUIRER.
BTJTSnDJtSSr.
A. R. CALHOUN, {Mflbttl!}
COLUMBUS, GEORGIA,. SUNDAY, MAY 81, 1874.
YOL. XYI.-NO. 128.
From my window 1 •#., down the boy,
A .hip telling out to the tee—
And my heert eehee with other heertt eehlng
to-day.
And I sign (hr the lored thet ere eelllng ewey,
Who mey nerermore oome heeh to me.
There were people In erowdi on the plert;
There were Irtendf to friends breathing fere,
well i , .
There were itonuheerted men end pele women
In teert,
Some parting forever,and tome for long years—
There were torrowt thet tongue eennot tell.
There were hendt gretped oonrultlrely there—
And h.ndaerehlert wared lo the breete;
In the veweTi broad wake followed many e
prayer,
O, thlp 11 hare ventured In thee,
Kot of tplcet, line linen or w me;
Thou are freighted with treaturet more pre-
clotu 10 me
Then the wealth thet Uet down In the depthe
of the see—
Loving hearts thet hare throbbed oloto to
mine
I oan tee thee reeeile trom the shore i
And I fancy thy tall masts ere shuts, gaunt
And thy hull a hearts that Is bearing
away
The forms of the lored “gone before,"
And olt from thy eourte may’i
Farad venture 'ho b.rbor thou never wilt galni
But thy tailing will not be entirely In vain,
If thy treasures but reaeh the port—Heaven,
IN OTHER LANDS.
A. BTOH.Y
or THE
GREAT IRISH FAMINE.
BT THE AUTHOR OF “ DUNCAN mTnTOBH,”
“LOUIS MACON,” “THOBNTON," ETC.
Written for the Enquirer-Sun.
[COPYRIQHT SECURED. ]
* CHAPTER Tt.
THE POO*.
Kathleen Ilrehan had gone and
AJat‘% if Gora had hot well
into conversation with his
companions, Ralston and Grant, when
Sullivan appeared at the door hat in haud
and with bow obsequiona.
w “Well, whet now?” asked the Captain.
“There's more visitors cum to see ye,
sur, about him that inlisted yisterday,”
said Sullivan, in his most defferential
tone.
“Who are they, and what do they want ?
Confound you for n blockhead, don't hare
me aak yon everything."
“Certainly not, yer honor; but as to
who they are, I'll tell ye it'a Dan Gnspin'a
father and mother, but dlril the word
would they tell me what they earn for.”
Captain Gore seemed at a loss what to
do for the moment, and Balaton said,
“Ob, bother, paok them off; an offieer
cannot be tormented, yotf know, by the
parents of every fellow that enters the
servioe.”
“I dunno so well about that,” aaid Dr,
Grant. “They oan make miokle trouble
if they will, an' if I waur the Captain I'd
e'en let them have their say, mair partic-
lar as I nnderatan’ it the Captain is their
lanlord, an’ they owe the loet year’s rent."
The Doctor looked et Gore for a verifica
tion of this.
“Ton are right, Grant 1 Why should I
dread anything hot the annoyance in
mooting those people ? Show them in,
Sullivan.”
Snllivun, with n military salute and a
grin that showed hia yellow teeth, with
drew, and aoon returned, escorting an
old man and woman—the former gray-
haired and ead-faeed, the latter feeble and
tame, having to support herself with a
stiok and the aid of her husband's arm.
Perhaps it was thoughtlessness, but it
is more than probable it was intention
al, and the desire to be rid of hU
visitors soon, that prevented Captain
Gore from asking the old people to he
seated.
The old man stood hat in hand, with
his wife oltnging to hla arm, and the words
he was about to utter trembling on hia
lips, when Captain Gore atartled bis visi-
lots by asking,
“What news to-day, Gaspin? Good, I
hope. Have yon oome to pay the rent ?”
“Bint, yer honor!" repeated the old
man, shaking his head, and taming his
wtrm grey eyes on his yonng landlord.
“Ves, Gaspin, I should be glad to know
yon were able to settle."
“An’ it's glad mesel would be to settle,
yar honor, if I coaid; bat it's a hard
thing to pay rint whin theolay won't ev
support thim that works it, an' whin ■
have tobny seed every spring, not knowin'
that the earth will give na that we pat in.
The times are always hard lo the pour,
yer honor, more than ever at this time;
but maybe it’s wrong to complain whin
God gives us other blessens.”
The old man might bare gone on and
finally reached hia sabjeat, bat Gore, who
well understood the outer character of his
tenants, determined to close the disagree
able interview by bringing him lo the
main question at once.
‘.‘My friends and I are engaged, Gas.
pin ; state what you came fur at once, and
you will oblige me."
“I ax yer honor’s pardon. Sure it's
oisier to apeak what I want than it is to
bear the tbiubble that’s weighin' down my
heart. Ye know my son Dan, snr ?"
“I do.”
“He's been irer a good, fuithfal boy to
me an' his mother, yer honor, an' there's
niyther blot nor blimish agin his good
name, except, yar honor, that now an'
thin, like at a fair or a wake, or some di-
rarehmint of that kind, he'd take a dhrop
too much, like hie betthere; bat it would
be the hard day fur me an' the mother if
we knew the ennlight of hie face wee
never to lighten the little house beyond
the leke again.”
“But what has Dan's character got? to
do with ypnr coming to eee me?” esked
Gore.
“Mot mnoh, yer honor—only thii: Den,
ye eee, earn over to the felr yieterdey, an’
got e little too mneh, an' while undher the
liquor whet did he do bat inliet, whin it
wasn't himael' was doin’ it at all, bnt the
bad dhrink he had in hia head. He'll tell
ye this himsel', yer honor, for he's down
there in the barraoks wld the heaviest
heert in the county."
Whet here I to do with tble, Gaspin!
If f oar son cun afford to drink, he oan
afford to pay me my rent; and if in hie
drunken bouts he does wrong, he mutt
bear the penalty of his own indiscretion.”
“Thrae for ye, yer honor; an’ it’s bat
little that Dan apinda on himsel’, as bis
mother'll tell ye. But he didn’t 'list in
earnest, an’ yer honor knows the Queen
wouldn't take advantage of e dhrunktn
man to make him a eojer. Bo if yer
honor would only say a soft word to the
min down in the btrreok they'd let him
go, an’ I'll promise ye he won’t touoh a
drop agio till the rint ie ped, on’ aura
that'll be a time of rejoioia' for every
body, rieh an’ poor.”
The old man comprehended the situa
tion as well as did Captain Gore, and
lightly as he seemed to speak, hie words
were bnt the disguise that long years of
oppression had taught him to assume
when in the presence of e superior.
True, he did not know thet Captain Gore
himself was at the bottom of all the
troublo, and that if his request were
granted, the very end the weak and nn.
principled young officer had in view would
be destroyed. -
“I will see what I can do, Gaspin ; bnt
in ease yonr bod is sent off, I will promise
to be easy with you, and give you yonr
own time for the rent,”
“Heaven bless yer honor!” aaid the old
women, tottering forward end laying her
hand on hie harm. “Hay the Holy Var-
gin bleaa thim thet remimber the poor.
But if Dan goes away, yer honor, it's little
me in’ his father’ll ears for the rint. We
can't boald land we’ro not able to work
nor pay for, an’ we’ll lave the onld house
where Dan an’ his fethsr was born, an’
onr time in the world'll be so abort that
it's not tbrublin’ we’ll be for the bit an'
tap an’ the plaee to rest onr heads, for the
grave will bring it.”
“Very well. Please to leave me now.
I will see what can be done about it.”
The old man walked ont with hia wife,
bnt their hearts were not so light, nor
their hopes so promising os when they en.
tered.
“Confound it, this thing gives me
trouble from the start. I wish the fellow
was io "
Captain Gore threw himself into a
chair, and Balaton finished the aentenoe
for him by adding “India.”
“8uch interviews are not strengthenin',
and yer old enongh to net for yourself;
bat ye saw all those little troubles before
yon started, I think the heaviest of them
is past."
Captain Gore was pleased to be pro-
voked, and somehow he felt himself to
be something of a martyr at that moment,
and that Dan Gaspin and his friends were
in some way persecuting him.
“Here, Stillman, let us have some bran
dy, a-oi then saddle tip the brown horse.
1 will take a gal.op."
Sullivan quickly had the brandy on the
table, and Captain Gore for the firat time
drank a glass that contained as much as
that of the Sootoh surgeon.
“Going to ride alone?” asked Balaton,
as the Captain mounted.
“Yes,” replied the Captain curtly.
“Which way?"
“To the other side of the lake."
“Bo hol That’s what I call commend-
able energy."
Balaton turned away, and Gore giving
free rein to bis powerful brown horse,
started off at a gallop.
CliAFTER VII.
HIKE DELANEY.
It was no unusual thing for Captain
Gore to ride beyond the Lake, for in that
direction was the country seat of bis
family, bis own country seat now, or
rather one of a number of country seats,
for his family waa English, and like all
English landlords owning property in,
Irelund, himself and family had spent bnt
little of their time, or the money they
drained from the poor, in that unhappy
Island. A steward had charge of the
buildings now, but the Captain rarely
saw him or them, save when he went over
for a day's banting, or to see about
money when hia excesses at the gaming
table left him short, as they often did.
He had Been more of his property and
Irish tenantry of late than usual, as the
regiment to whioh he was attaohed was
stationed at Longbrea. His joining the
regiment some years before and going
abroad was intended as a refuge and
place of safety from the wrath of Hike
Dulaney, whose sister he hod cruelly be
trayed and sent to her grave. But the
very act that sent Norn Delaney to the
grave yard near the Lake made her broth
er an outlaw in the mountains above it,
for he attacked the Captain and would
have killed him had not assistance oome
when it did; as it wss Gore was danger
ously wounded and his life despaired of.
Mike Delaney was not beard of for
some time, and it was rumored that he
had reeohed America trom e vessel on the
ooaet, but he was not tba man to remain
in the mountains nnnotioed. ’ He bad to
live, and as the mountains oontained bnt
little necessary for hia support, he waa
forced to make forays on the rich domains
around. He was soon joined by reckless
spirits with less cause to be lawless than
he, and lo their reputation os acknowl
edged outlaws they soon added that of
illicit distillers, so that every officer, civil
and military, had an interest in the osp-
ture or destruolion of Mike Delaney and
his men.
It was well known that the whereabouts
of the outlaws was familiar to many of
the people along the mountains, but fear
of or devotiou to thair banted countrymen
led them to ignore threats and' refuse
bribes. Mike so far had successfully
eluded all bis pursuers, and often the ru
mor of hia being hard presaed, captured
or killed by the soldiers would be follow
ed by an exploit more daring and despe
rate than any he had before attempted.
It may hare been the brandy, or the
excitement of his fierce gallop, or the fact
that ha was now riding on liis own land,
or the thought that he was going to tri
umph in the undertaking be bad on band,
that gave Captain Gore spirits ; for an his
horse rounded the lake and he saw the
bine smoke, in an airy column, marking
the site of Larry Breban's cottage, he
broke into a song that be aoon stopped—
for, even to himself, it sounded like a
hollow mockery ; somehow he felt him
self awfully wronged, and fearfully an
noyed, os ho stopped short in hia song.
It was so wrong, so absurd, in these peas
ants to have heart ami e if notions save for
their rich masters, whose humors, in Cap
tain Gore's opinion, the poor wero evi
dently created to gratify.
He drew rein before Larry Brehan'a
house and dismounted, Mr. Brehau com
ing out to hold his horse.
“Ah I thank you, Brehan. I will not
enter. I thought aa I was riling near I
weald atop to ask how you and your fam
ily are getting on."
“Thank yer honor. We're all well in
health, but the bad crops, an' the rint
unpaid, an' the nnsarlinty of the future,
prevint onr liftin' up our heads.”
“Tush I Never mind that, man. I won't
be hard on you, erop or no crop,”
‘Yer honor is very kind. But the wife
and the children mast bo fed, iu addition
to payin' the rint.”
“Very true; bnt you are a good, hon
est fellow, Brehan, and my word for it,
neither you nor your family will suffer.
By-the-way, how is Kathleen ? I see but
little of her now.”
“She's well, sur, thank ye; an’ she
wint over to the town to-day on some bu
siness that I don't know, she should be
back by this time."
Lsiry Brehan glanced at the setting
sun as be spoke. Asking for a drink of
water, which Mrs. Brehan herself fur
nished in her best and whitest cup, Gore
remounted, evidently with the intention
of meeting Kathleen. Then, with a wave
of his band, intended to be very gracious,
he galloped away.
“God forgive me for saying it, but I
fear bis promises bode no good,” aaid
Mrs. Brehan to her husband, as, walking
towards the bouse, he told her what the
Captain had said.
Captain Gore, after 1 Raving the house,
oonld see the road for miles sweeping to
wards Longbrea, und as bis eyes failed to
disoover the objeot he was in search of,
he brought hia horse down to a slow walk.
It was after sundown, and he was nearing
a lonesome defile at Ihe head of the lake,
where it sweeps in a great curve towards
the town, when he was suddenly roused
from his reverie by the stopping of bis
horse, and looking up, be saw a tall, pow
erful man, with masked face, holding his
horse by the bit.
Captain Gore was anything but a physi
oal coward; yet the position in wbieb he
found himself, in view of the memories
of the past, was anything but cooling, or
oalculated to give a man confidence. Ue-
covering himself in n moment, he tighten
ed the reins, touched the brown horse with
the spur, and shouted out iu a tone of as
much confidence us he could assume :
“Back there, you soonudrel I How
dare you stop me on the Queen's high
way ?”
The powerful grip on the bridle pre
vented the spirited amirnal from moving,
aud (be man who held the master and
horse said as he pointed a pistol at Gore :
“I am a man who dare do whatever I
ehose, particularly whou I meet a liar, a
murderer and a coward, like you. Dia-
iSount, Captain Gore.”
The Captain hesitated for a moment,
but the pistol was raised on a line with
his faco and as he heard the ominous click
he obeyed the order without wailiug for
a repetition, which he knew would not
come.
Taking off his mask, Mike Delaney re
leased the horse, which galloped off to
wards the town riderless, and then be con
fronted the astonished Captain:
“Ye need'ut trimble, like the dog that
ye are. Many a time before this I could
have killed ye, as I mane to, but I was
watebin' and waitin'. Yer irying to get
Dan Gaspin out of the road, aiet ye ?"
“I know nothing of him, sir. Release
me, or you will suffer for this outrage,”
aaid tbe Captain, with the show of oour-
age he did not feel.
“Ha, ha, ha 1 Is it threatened me, ye
are, when tbe world know yon an' thim
that hires ye, has been huntin' me for
Ur. Gore, ye can't get off in that way.
Come, strip."
“Strip 1 What do yon mean, sir ?”
“Not a word more than I eey; an be
quick about it, or I'll saze to have pa
tience.”
With mutteringa of proteat the Captain
obeyed till he bod taken off all hit cloth
ing but bis undergarmonts. Mike De
laney pioked up the clothes, whioh oon
tained the Gaptaiu's money and wateh,
and throwing tBore valuables on the
ground, the outlaw assured Ihe Captain
that if he attempted to enter the town
that night, or lo move n hundred yards
from where he Btood, he would be watoh-
ed and killed—and Mike Delaney made
no empty threat.
Without another word the Captain's
assailant disappeared, and shortly after
he heard the rombling of approaehing
wheels, and glanoiDg along the road ha
saw Kathleen Brehan approaching in her
jaunting car.
It was nearly dusk, yet ho oould not be
seen iu bis present condition, and there
was but one plaee to hide, within the one
hundred yards specified the lake; so into
this the captain plunged, and with hia ardor
cooled by his surroundings, be saw the
beautiful girl drive past. All unconscious
and unthinking of the man who had
brought ao much woe upon her.
CHAPTER VIII.
BELEAEED.
Kathleen Brehan bad exhausted ell her
powers in tbe effort to secure the release
of Dan Gaspin, but, heavy hearted, she
found no encouragement in her efforts.
Bhe had learned, however, everything
that befell Dan from tbe moment she left
him sensible and sober on the fair grounds
until Ihe moment he waa enlisted.
The landlord of the Royal Inn—a by
no means loyal man, though the name of
his house would indicate the reverse-
told her how Dan oame to his place the
night before in company with a recruiting
sergeant disguised in oilmen's clothes,
and how before he eould warn Dan bo waa
under the influence of tbe fatal liquor.
“Then came Bullivan, Gore's servant, an'
I swaar by tbe moss, Kathleen, he had
more money to spied for dhrink than be
ever oame by honestly, barrin’ it was gin
to him for tbe purpose, an’ sure Captain
Gore isn’t the man to go into the ro-
oruitin’ sarvioe.”
“I don't know, Mr. Manly ; it's hard to
tell what business any man will take now,
if he has an end in view."
Kathleen, disconsolate and dishearten
ed, left for her home, resolving to raturn
on the morrow, before which time she waa
assured the bstoh of reornits then on band
would not be sent to Dublin.
It was quite dark in the streets of
Longhrea, whioh at that time had no
means of illnminating its dusky semi
Spanish streets. Denny Keely knew those
streets so well that he could traverse them
bUnutoiticd, were all tbe lights in heaven
and on earth extinguished. He was pass
ing through the streets, having refreshed
himself with an ample yet frugal meal,
after his trip to the mountains, when ha
felt his ooat pulled as he waa about to
turn a corner, and stopping, he asked,
“Who ia that?”
“Me, Dinny.”
“An’ who are yon ?"
“Sure, I thought ye’d know ould Betty'i
voice if ye heard it in America."
“So I would, Betty. I'm glad to see
ye," said Denny warmly, as he turned and
grasped the sbiiveletl band of the old wo
man.
“Did ye seo thim ?”
“I difh Betty, an’ be mo conscience it's
no child’s walk I had of it."
‘ 'Ov coorse not, Mavournoeu ; but it
iau't in y«r blood to sthop at a trouble to
help a friend. But tell me, Avick, did ye
spake to Mike ?”
“Faith did I.”
“An' what did he say?”
“Hush, Betty, not ao loud. He says
he’ll be on tho Ballinasloe road to-night,
aa' Dan must be ready for the signal.”
“The blessin' of Heaven be on him 1
But tell me, dues Dan know this ?"
"No; I thried to see him, bnt they
wouldn't let me in.”
"Ye did enough. Lave oeciu’ Dan lo
me.”
Dsuuy, promising to see Betty ou the
morrow, left hor, and the old woman at
onee directed her steps to the barracks.
“How long do yo think it will be be
fore they sind the recruits off ?" she asked
of a soldier who, somewhat tipsy, waa
working to get into quarters before tattoo.
"Dunno, bat apose to-night.”
“What tin*, Aoushla ?”
“Dunno, but pretty soon,” said the sol
dier, staggering in.
Betty sat down on a bench not far from
the sentry box to await the issue of events.
Bhe might have been there two hours,
when she was aroused from the stapor-
like sleep into which she hsd fallen by
the tramping of feet in tbe barrack yard.
Before aba had time to fully straighten
herself up she saw ten recruits, Dan
among them, under tho eseort of about
the same number of soldiers, commanded
by a aergeant, emerging from the gate,
above which a huge oil limp swung.
Bushing between the soldiers, all of
whom knew her os an eccentrio character,
she asked,
“Is Dsn Gaspin bore ?"
“He is, Betty," replied I)au in a sad
voioo.
“God be good to ye wherever you go,
though it's mesel' never expects to set
eyes on ye sgin. “Good-bye, and me
blessin'.’’
The old woman threw her arms about
him. whispered some words in his ear,
then disappeared, and the line moved on.
Three hoars’ march to Balliuasloe,
where conveyance would he had for trans
porting the reornits to Dnblin. Ono-half
the distanoe was passed over, when in the
middle of a bridge spanning a stream
that flawed in from tho buttla field of
Anghram the guard found themselves
suddenly surrounded and disarmed. Bo
quick and well planned was the move
ment, that no resistance oonld be offered.
“This way, Dan Gaspin 1” shouted the
voiee of the leader, aud ns Dan obeyed,
the same voice oried out, “Follow, all that
want freedom I”
[TO BE CONTINUED. J
a bad nor.
Chapter I.—Introductory.—I[is name
was John HendeiRon Tompkins, and he
was goiug on thirteen years old. He hud
trackless all over his nose, chewed plug
tobaaoo, uud loafed around select schools,
and put tin ears on boys smeller than
himself. His futher was killed by a Can
ada saw log, his only sister slept iu tho
silent tomb, and his mother divided hor
time between gonsippiug and canvassing
for money for the heathens iu Africa.
Chafer II.—Timely.—Thus it will be
seen that there waB no one to give John
Henderson Tompkins any domostio atten
tion beyond sn occasional whaok with a
slipper, which made him tho worse. Ho
wuan't sent to sohool, never had to take
a dose of aastor oil, wss allowed to go
around with a letter iu the post-office uud
Ids pants supported by a magnificent bolt
of sheep twine, aud if ho went homo by
ten o'elock at night, hia mother felt per
fectly Sure that he would dump down
aoruewbero and be home in time for cod
fish and potutoea iu the morning.
Chapter HI.—Shameful Neglect.—
John Henderson Tompkins' mother uevor
took hiui on her kneo und asked him if
he knew what was beyond the bright
stars, and if be knew where he'd go to if
he grew up an uwfnl liar aud horde-thief.
Bhe never told him about the Children of
Egypt, Moses iu the bulruslicB, or Duuiel
in the lion's den, and it is no wonder that
he grew up to be a bad boy. Hho didn't
uever have Htiokiug plasters ready wa«u
he got a out, and Bumlay inomiug* there
waa no one to ruli him bulimd Ins eurs,
fill his eyes with soup and water, and
comb his hair tbe wrung way.
Cuaper IV.—Jlti I*ccu<£un't»V«.—Eve
rything which happened in tbe village
whh In id at John liumlerson Tompkins’
door. “It’s some of Ibid, bey's work,"
they said, whenever a bushel of pimus, a
water-melon, or a peek of peaches myste
riously disappeared. Hu was probably
guilty of everything charged, us when
he died thoy found where he und hiddeu
seventeen stolen uow-bells, forty axes,
ever so many saw-bucks, fifteen or twen
ty front gates, and I can't remember how
many snow shovels.
Chapter V.—Down on llim —la time,
as tho reader was informed iu a previous
ohapter, the udnlt male population of tho
village got flown ou John liendersou
Tompkins. Old ill ode j title t at him
with umbrellas, merchants flung p mud
weighta at him, shoemakers dosed him
with strap-oil, and grooera always loosed
around for John Houderson when they
wanted to heave out bud eggs uud spoiled
fruits.
Chapter VI.—Hie Ambition.— You
might think that they would have eventu
ally snoceedud iu breaking the boy's spirit
and dishing his hopes, but they couldn't
do it. He had an auihitiou which nothing
oonld oheok. He wanted to bo a bold pi
rate and sail the ragiug main, und he was
patiently waiting for the time to oomo
when he oould wear No. 10 boots and
swear in a voice like tho eoboes of n bass
viol. He would be content to crawl into
hen-roosta aud to creep mound horse-
barns for a few years, but thou—but
then
Chapter VII. — Effort* at Reform.—
Soma of tbe more philanthropic citizens
made strennons efforts to reform the boy.
They looked him up iu h sun k- house for
a wtok ; they clubbed him until he could
not yell, and they held him under a pinup
until he was as limp as a rag, lmt ut soon
as they let him go be went right back to
his old halnts agaiu.
Chapter VIII — Nearing hie End.—
John Henderson Tompkins-had kept this
thing up for eight or nine yearH when our
atory opens, mid he was nearing his end.
Justice overtakes lire guilty sooner or
later, and justice wss laying low for this
bad boy. He had the check to believe
that he would live to be a hundred years
old, but he was to be takeu down a peg
or two and bis mother left an orphan.
Chapter IX.—The End.—Uno day,
while in tho toydey of hia wickedness,
John Henderson Tompkins came upon
something new in the line of plunder. It
was a pile of little cans labeled “nitro
glycerine—hands off—duugerous poison,
io.," bnt he couldn't read, mid he didn’t
care a copper. Ho carried n can behind
tbe meeting house und sat down on a ruck
to open it. There wasn’t any guardian
angel around to tell him that he’d get
busted if he fooled with that oan, uud so
he spit on bis hands and gave it a wb tek
on the atone.
Chapter X.—Obituary —The folks all
ran ont, and after a good deal of trouble
they found and separated the picoes of
ineetiug honae from the pieces of boy,
and thsy got together enough of John
Henderson to. fill a oigar box and answer
as the basis cf a funeral. They buried
the rdtnaius iu a quiet nook, and the
Ruve atone maker put u little lamb on the
head stone, to show that John Henderson
Tompkins was meek and lovely.
—Horace Greeley’s “oopy" was n con-
tinuous string of riddles for the unfor
tunate compositors engaged on the pi per
of which he was proprietor—riddles they
often sulved in a way uot exactly con
ducive to tbe prupouuder’a serum y.
When, iu exposing s [lie Congressional
malpractices, Greeley wrote, “’Tis true,
'tia pity, and pity 'tie, 'tis true," tbe !a-
miliar quotation appeared iu the u:i-
Sbaksperian guise, •• 'tia two, 'tis 1.ty
'tis, 'tia five." A leader upon William H.
Seward eaute forth headed, “Richard the
Thi/d." When he alluded to oertain
electors as “Freeman in Buckram," tho
printer turned them into “three men in a
back room." These, antler the circum
stances, excusable delinquenoios, wero
capped by the painter of the The Tribune
bulletins. Having received u notice iu
the well-known but ever uuintolligible
heiroglyphica, intebdod to inform the
pnblio that they ipust seek “Entrance in
Bprnoe street," after some hard hours’
study and cogitation, the puzzled mau of
tbe brush, in sheer desperation, dashed
off io large letters, “Editors on a Spree,"
and posted the extraordinary announce
ment on the front door of the Tribune
office.
■CIENTIF1C NWTIIN.
A New Htiamhoat Phopeli.eii.—A new
propeller for steamers has lately been in
troduced by Doctor Collis Brown, which
differs materially from the screw propel
ler at pr, sent ill use, resembling, when at
rest, the tetter X, and claimed to possess
many advantages over its predecessors.
These are stated to be absence of vi
bration; reduction of wear und tour to
machinery; ready adaptability to any
Hcrew steamship; aud facility of ohockiug
a ship's way, with the power of driving
her full speed astern in n few seoouda ou
reversal, aa well aa giving considerable in
crease of speed and effeutiug a great sav
ing of eoal. Daring a trial with the
steam-yacht Lapwing, under a pressure of
fifty eight pounds ut steam, with a con
sumption of eighty-one poands of ooal
per hour, the propeller made twohutidred
and twenty revolutions per minute with a
slack tide, and the furnace burning hard
steam coal; the measured mile being run
in five minutes.
The Maonetization of Glass.—An in
teresting paper iu Pongeudorf’s “Anna-
leu,” by Professor Villari, troata of tbe
tiuro that glass takes to be maguetized,de
magnetized uud to turn the plane of po
larization. Ho rotated a glass cylinder
between the poles of an oleotro-uiagnet
where it noted like a cylindrical lens with
polarized light passing through tho po es.
When uot magnetized, the cylinder,
whether in motion or at rest, was neutral
to the light; but when magnetized its
piano rotating power diminished consid
erably; with incrousiug velocity of rota
tion, each disinter remained too abort a
time iu tho axial direction to acquire all
the magnetism it would otherwise have.
To give flint glues such dia-inaguetio in
tensity ns lrocuiuo observable by rotation
of the plane, required ut least 1-BOO of a
second of time, while lo give it all the
dia magnetism it is capable of taking un
der n strong magnet, nt least 1-400 of a
aecond was needed.
American Leather.—William H. Hill,
President of the Heaton .Common Council
in a recent lecture upon leather, present,
ed tbe fullowiugu-efulstutis'icst “During
t tie year 1870 there were in tho United
Stutus 4,12117 tanneries and 8,081! currying
establishments, employing 80,811 men,
and using 1,12871,8-10 cords of Irnrk. A
capital of $55,025,280 was invested in the
business, uud tho aggregate Hum of $12,-
088,880 was paid os wugos to workmen.
Mr. Hill further stnted that while the iron
business in the United Btates in 1870 wns
less than $100,000,000, of tho cotton
trade less than $178,000,000, of woolen
goods less than $808,000,000, the vuluo of
tho leather business exceeded $280,000,-
000. The tanning business in Massachu
setts was only surpassed by New York and
Pennsylvania. Iu tho currying Imsinoss
Mussnchusetta was vastly ahead of all oth
er States, employing mure than one-third
of tho men, and engaging more than one
fourth of the oupitnl in this country. Of
180 ourryiug establishments in Massachu
setts, 48 wore iu Balom, and 84 in Pea
body. Iu 1878, Now York and Boston
received 8,441,778 hides, including 147,-
840 from domestic ports, principally from
thuso of Texas. I i 1 rt 73 Hiilom received
17,327 cords of balk, and Peabody 14,077
cords, requiring 2 ears, or a train 17
miles in lengtl: fur t uinspoi-tation.” In
ourryiug bides, Air. Hill said thoy wefe
bandied no less than eighty-one times
before the leather was ready for tho mar
ket.
A Substitute fob Coai..—Tho proposi
tion to supercede coal by tbe use of oar-
bonie gas extracted from chalk has been
subjected to a practical tost by the inven
tor, and with very satisfactory resultH.
Exiructo 1 and applied to unthracite, it
produces a strong flame nnd heat, anil
at ho lottea rate of combustion that a good
fire was maintained fur 28 houra iu a fur
nace which heals a chinch, with only 80
pounds of iinthruuite and an equal quan
tity of chalk mixed with it during that
time. During tho last 21 hours, moreov
er, tho fire W8H untouebod. Through the
aid of this remarkable property of chalk
the lignite, kuowu as shale, may ho used
for tbe production of nn illuminating gas
to an exteut which will appear iucrodiblo.
Even the coarost day of this singular for
mation ia full of gas, und tho experiinenta
made iu Eugluud, though imperfect,
show that one ton of this substance, to
gether with a due proportion of chalk,
will yield as largo an umonnt as eight
tuna of ordinary coul. From these tests
the inventor argues that London will be
v.-aruied at fifty pur cent, cheaper rate;
that the sniuko, dust and ashes uuisauee
might bo abolished; that every good aized
country bonse and every village might be
lighted with gas; und tho kitchen lire,
with some ullcrntion iu the grate, might
supply tho ltoiiHo with light. Finally, lig
nite and anthracite hods would become
valuable property, and chalk would bo
exported us coal is now. Tile English pa
pers suy tho prospect seems almost too
good to bo truo.
The Sun's Heat.—Sir W. Thompson
has contended that the sun could not have
continued to give out heat und light for so
long a period as has been assumed by
many geologists, und has concluded that
it was “on tltc whole most probable that
it has not illuuiiuuted the earth for more
than one bundrotl millions of years, aud
aimoHt. certain that it has not done so for
five hundred millions. Prof. Huxley
made this question the subject of his ad
dress to the Geologieul Society in 1888,
but the argument on both sides was on
tliu supposition that tho constitution of
mutter is such (hat from theuurlicst epoch
tiie bout and light given off had been
derived mainly, if not entirely, from the
simple cooling of a heated body. If, how-
over, Mr. Lockyor’s views bo truo, tho
sun ut the earliest period must have oon-
sisted of matter in a more dislocated con
dition than at present, and, as he points
out, in combining so usto give rise to oth
er so-culled elementary substances, prob
ably u largo extra amount oT heat and
light would he set flee. The result of
this appears to loo to he that when the
general temperature was that at which
such a dislocation occurs, the sun's ener
gy would continue nearly the some fora
period which, in tho present stale of our
knowledge, canuot ho determined, but
which would probably he of vast dura
tion; nnd not only so, hut the cooling
would be more uniform from the first,
und not subject to so great a variation as
would occur in tlio ease of an intensely
heated body cooling without any physical
change in its constituents. If this bo so,
the length of time during which our globe
may have been roooiviug such nu amount
of heat and light us would bo compatible
with the existence of animals and plants
may well have boon as great as that do-,
imuided by any of [he supporters of evo
lutionary theories.
pinnnu,
—Mr. Beeoher Bays he would bury even
e pirate from hia ohurcb.
—Detroit ie the only city where Nilsson
doesn't own a ooraer lot.
—Thiers completed his seventy-seventh
year on the 18th ult.
—James Gordon Bennett is a fist
young men—on a ten mile walk.
—Baxter illy Brooke the usurpation of
his office.—Dayton Journal.
—Oliver Wendell Holmes' hymns are
always masouline promotions.
—Stanley is on Honorary Fellow of the
Royal Geographical Society.
—The Oonrlar-Joornal calls Mrs. Clam'
the “Modern Lady Aodley."
—Capoul, the Italian tenor received a
ton of floral tributes one day.
—Donaldson has taken the oontraot to
swoep the cobwebs off the sky.
—“Tbe Duoheaa of Edenborgh Trank"
is oat es a rival to the “Saratoga.”
—Barnum only bad to advertise one
day to get fifty donkeys in New Fork.
—Liviugstone’s funeral waa a harvest
time for the London pickpooketa.
—Ilerr Krupp is delivering the German
Government 1U0 oennone per week.
—Welcome Sprinkle is the refreshing
name of a oitiaen in Vinosunes, Ind.
—Grant haa oeaaed reading the New
York Uerald—so thinks that j jurnal.
—Bob Veal, io mnoh talked of in Now
York, ia s near t elation to John Bud.
—Matilda Heron’s daughter, Bijou,
givea great promise of beooming an
actreaa.
—Biz yaara ago Senator Jones of Neva-
da woe several thousand dollars in debt.
—Caleb Cashing met bis old friend and
correspondent, Jefferson Davis, iu Fads.
—Sir Robert Feel will resign the posi
tion of Liberal “whip" in the British Par
liament.
—Tbe ez-Quesn Isabella is as bal 1 as s
soup tnreen. and about aa handsome.
—rtii.ee litrgh put a stop <■,
ebo.tllug wiie-uiuiiials mo a ,. q
—Blanton Duucau has bean to a., t tin.
zine, aud compliments bis wile extrava
gantly.
—Mrs. Livermore is to tell what she
knows “Concerning Hnsbtnds” next sea
son.
—Murat Halstead ia mentioned by the
Cleveland Leader tor Secretary of the
Treasury.
—“The poor ye slweya have with you,’’
nnd likewise Andy Johnson.—Rocheeter
Democrat.
-Pio Nino is one of the few fortnnate
persons to whom U Is granted to outlive
his doctor.
—The King of Denmark boa sent e
decoration of tho highest clasa to Marshal
MaaMahon.
—Among the early Puritan settlers of
Charlestown, Maas., waa Mr. Waituwhiia
Makepeace.
—Henry Word Beeoher esye he would
rather be the deed Livingstone than the
living Wolaeley.
—Childs, of tho Public Ledger, gave
$1,008 for the auffarara by the Louisiana
inundations,
—“Kalifornlska Hkizier oeh Novelist”
is the name of Brot Harto’s book dona up
in Swedish.
—In Arkansas, when a man mentions
“the Governor,” he la immediately asked,
“Whioh?"
—Minister Baooroft ia coming home,
and haa purchased the' bonne of Snnetor
Harlan in Washington.
—John Hepner, of Reading, l’enn.,
claims to be the father of forty-onn chil
dren by three wives.
—Ex-Queen Isabella, of Spain, sent a
snm of money for the relief of thewound-
ed in the Spanish eivil war,
—You can taka a steerage-passage to
Europe for the moiety of fifteen dollara.
Now then, Mr. Riohardaoa.—Rocheeter
Democrat.
—Ltura Fair publishes a card in whioh
she says: “I shall demand an humble
apology from each person who has dared
to trnduos my character.”
WMkiailaa's htrewalb.
Genera! Wilson relates an account of u
conversation with Mr. Cartis, from which
he obtained some interesting persohul re-
uiiuiHceuceH of Washington. “Dating a
visit at Arlington House, Virginia, in
1851, the writer asked Mr. Custia it Gen.
Washington could, like Marshall Saxe,
break a horse-shoe, and reosived for re
ply that be bad no doubt he oould bad he
tried, for his hands were the largest and
moat powerful he bad ever seen. Mr.
Custia then gave several instances of tbe
General's strength, of whioh I recall the
following: (
When Washington was a yonng man he
was present uu one oooabiuu es e looker-
on at wrestling games, then the fashion
in Virginia. Tired of the sport, be re
tired to tbe shade of a tree, where he ant
perusing a pamphlet, till challenged to a
bout by the hero of the day end tho
strongest wrestler in the State. Washing
ton declined till taunted with the remark
that be feared to try eonelnaions with the
gladiator, calmly came forward, end with
out moving hia ooat grappled with bis sn-
tagonist. There was e fierce straggle far
a brief space of time, when the champion
was hurled to tbe ground with uuch tre
mendous force aa to jar the very marrow
in his bones. Another instanoe of his
prodigious power waa his throwing the
stone across the Rappahannock at Fred
ericksburg—a feat that it is quite safe to
say haa never been performed siuee.
Later io life e lulu her of young gentle
men were contending et Meuut Vernou in
tbe exercise of throwing the bar. Wash
ington, after looking m for wo- time,
walk'd forward, aayi: p, \V1 w no- n t v.’
aud t r i-ptug the b.,r .,e a u t, - fl .
iug ttnougu tut) air twenty foe. b.y no
its former limits. Still later iu hi- e r «r,
Washington, whose ‘age waa like a lusty
winter, frosty yet kindly,' observed three
of bis workmen at Mouut Vernon vainly
endeavoring to raise a large atone, when,
tired of witneasing their nnenoeeaeful at
tempts, he put them aside and, taking it
iu his iron-like grasp, lifted It to its placo,
remounted hia horse, and rode on."
—All you have to do now io Jefferson
ville, if you are what is termed e “drink,
iug tuau," ia to step into one of the sa
loons or “aputheoeriea,” aa they are now
culled, put down a tan cent ahioplastcr,
tuke a little phial of whiskey, containing
an ounce to two onooea of the liquid,
place it in yonr vest pocket, step inside of
the next “convenient'' doorway, poor it
out in e glees whioh ia ’handed yon, and
drink it down at you aaaa. This ia the
way the $500 ordinance works.