About The Sun and Columbus daily enquirer. (Columbus, Ga.) 1874-1874 | View Entire Issue (May 31, 1874)
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.
