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The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, November 23, 1881, Image 1

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Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/2012218613/1881-11-23/ed-1/seq-1/

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"the yrokax rx ^nnns," "the moon
> Tv
^ As Stella answered Lady Loring she
c >-<xr fomprl rm flip shoulder by
WtiO CUU.t^LWiJ S^. v ? w
an eager guest svitli a fan.
The guest vas a very little woman,
with twinkling eves and a perpetual
smile. Nature, corrected by powder
and paint, was liberally displayed in
her arms, her bosom, and the upper
part cf her back. Such clothes as she
wore, defective perhaps in quantity,
werejn qoality absolutely perfect. More
adorable color, shape and workmanship
^ never appeared, even in a milliner's
picture book. Her light hair was
dressed with a fringe and ringlets, on
the pattern which the portraits of the
time of Charles the Second nave macie
Jf* familiar to us. There was nothing exk
actly young or exactly old about her,
B. except her voice, which betrayed a faint
hoarseness, attributable, possibly, to
exhaustion, produced by untold years
of incessant talking. It might be added
that she was as active as a squirrel, and
as playful as a kitten. But the lady
miu? be treated with a certain forbearance
of tone, for this good reason?she
was Stella's mother.
Stella turned quickly at the tap of the
fan. "Mamma!" she exclaimed, "how
you startle me!"
"My dear child," said Mrs. Eyrecourt,
" you are constitutionally indolent,
and you want startling. Go into
the next room directly; Mr. Eomayne is
looking for you "
Stella drew back a step and eyed her
mother in blank surprise. " Is it possible
tliat yon know him?" she asked.
?- "ilr. Bomayne doesn't go into society,
or wo should have met long since,"
Mrs. Eyrecourfc replied. " He is a striking
person, and I noticed him when he
shook hands with yon. That was qu^te
enongh for me. I have just introduced
myself to him as your mother. Ho was
a little stately and stiff, but most
charming when he knew who I was. I
volnnteered to find you. He was quite
astonished. I think he took me for
. your elder sister. Not the least like
each other?are we Lady Loring? She
takes after her poor, dear father. He
was constitutionally indolent. My
sweet child, rouse yourself. You have
drawn a r>rize in the jrreat lottery at
last. If ever a man was in love Mr.
TT Komayne is that man. I am a physiognomist,
Lady Loring, and I see the pas
lions in the face. Oh, Stella, what a
Hk property. Yange Abbey. I once drove
that way when I was visiting in the
* neighboihood. Superb. And another
fortune (eight thousand a year and a
i villa at HigLgate) since the death of
his aunt. And my daughter may be
' mistress of this, if she only plays her
cards properly. What a compensation,
- AT-X. ?+ 1.
Slier IU1 UlUil ttt SUHCICU UliU'WjU iiiaa
monster. Winterfield!"
" Mamma! Pgty don's?"
, "Stella I will not be interrupted
when I am speaking to you for your
own good. I don't know a more proBS.
yoking person, Lady Loring, than my
B? daughter?on certain occasions. And
yet I love her. I would go through fire
and water for my beautiful child.
Only last woek I was at a wedding, and
I thought of Stella. The church cramHP
med to the doors. A hundred at the
wedding-breakfast. The bride s lace?
there! no language can describe it.
Ten bridemaids in blue and silver.
My Reminded me of the ten virgins. Only
the proportion of foolish ones, this time,
was certainly more than five. However,
they looked well. The archbishop
proposed the health of the bride and
bridegroom. So sweetly pathetic.
r- Some of us cried. I thought of my
daughter. Oh, if I could live to see
Stella the central attraction, so to
speak, of such a wedding as that!
Only I would have twelve bridemaids
at least, and beat the blue and silver
with green and gold. Trying to the
completion, you will say. But there
are artificial improvements. At least I
am told so. What a house this would
be?a broad hint, isn't it, dear Lady
Loring ??what a house for a wedding,
--- - . 11 _
" "with til? drawing-room to assemoie m
rand the picture-gallery for the breakfast.
I knov the archbishop. My
darling, ho shall marry you. "Why
don't you go into the next room ? Ah,
u that constitutional indolence. If you
only had my energy, as I used to say to
your poor father. Will you go ? Yes,
dear Lady Loring, I should like a glass
" of champagne and another of those de
r ^i licious chicken, sandwiches. If you
; don't go, Stella, I shall forget every
consideration of propriety, and, big ag
i you are, I shall push yon out."
i Stella yielded to necessity.
! " Keep her quiet if you can," she
whispered to Lady Loring, in the mo,
iaent of silence that followed. Even
Jtfrs. Evrecourt was not able to talk
ye was drinking champagne
e next room Stella lound Roll
e looked careworn and irriit
brightened directly when she
mother has been speaking to
e said. "lam afraid?"
>pped her there.
is your mother," he interposed
"Don't think that I am un
mjjraieiiu buuu^U IU
B She took his arm, and looked at bin
with all her heart in her eyes.
| "Come into a quieter room," sh<
whispered. Bomayne led her away
MSTeither of them noticed Penrose as the;
left the room. He had not movec
since Stella had spoken t~ him. Then
he remained in his con r, absorbed ii
|?F thought?and not in happy thought, ai
JBr his face would have plainly bretrayod
to any one who had cared to look a
f'V . him. His eyes sadly followed thi re
tiring figures of Stella and P.omayne
The color rose on his haggard face
I like most men who are accustomed t<
& t livo alone he had the habit, when hi
K; was strongly excited, of speaking t<
! "amseli "No," ho said, as the ac-!
! knowledged lovers disappeared through
J the door. " it is an insult to as'; me to
j uo it!" He turned the other way, es- j
| caped Lady Loring's notice in the re- j
| cepticn-room. and left the house,
j JRomayne and Stella passed through i
i the card-room and the chess-room, |
; turned into a corridor and entered the ;
j conservatory.
For the first time the place was a '
! solitude. The air of a newly-invented j
I dance, faintly audible through tho open i
i windows of the ballroom above, had j
j proved an irresistible temptation, j
Those who knew tho dance were eager j
| to exhibit themselves. Those who had j
i only heard of it were equally anxious to
f look on and learn. Even toward the
i latter end of the nineteenth century the
I youths and maidens of society can still
' be in earnest?when the object in view
j is a new dance.
What would Major Hynd have said ii
he had seen Eomayne turn into one of
the recesses of the conservatory, in
which there was a seat which just held
two? But the major had forgotten hi?
ye?rs and his family; he, too, was one
of the spectators in the ballroom.
"Iwonder," said Stella, "whether
i you know how I feel those kinds words j
i cf yours, when you spoke of my mother. |
I Shall I tell you?"
I She pat her ana round his neck and
: kissed him. He was a man new to love.
: in the nobler sense of the word- The
i exquisite softness in the touch of her j
| lips, the delicious fragrance of her i
breath, intoxicated him. Again and j
! again he returned the kiss. She drew |
| back; she recovered her self-possession i
j with a suddenness ar-d certainty incom- j
j prehensible to a man. From the depths j
i of tenderness she passed to the shallows j
I nt Tn It fir own rlfifonse she I
j was almost as saperSeial as lier mother,
j in less than a moment.
! "What would Mr. Penrose say if he j
j saw yon?" sho whispered.
| "Why do yon speak of Penrose?
| Have yon seen him to-night?"
"Yes?looking sadly ont of his ele- j
! ment, poor man. I did my best to set
j him at his ease?because I know you
j like him."
; "Dear Stella!"
i "No, not again! I am speaking j
1 seriously, now. Mr. Penrose looked at j
i mA with a strange kind of interest?I !
! can't describe it. Have you taken him i
J into our confidence ?"
| " He is so devoted?he has such a !
| true interest in me," said Romayne?" I j
j really felt ashamed to treat him like a :
1 stranger. On our journey to London I j
| did own that it was your c harming let- i
I ter which had decided me on returning,
j I did say, * I must tell her myself how
| well she has understood me, and how j
: deeply I feel her kindness. Penrose
| took my hand in lais gentle, considerate
i way. ' I understand you, too,' lie said,
j and that was all that passed between
j " Nothing more since that time ?'
i " Nothing."
i "Not a word of what we said to each
| other when we were alone last week in
I the picture-gallery ?'
j "Not a word. I am self-tormenioi
j enough to distrust myself, even now.
i Imnwe T Tin.vA ^nnrpnled nofchinc
from you, and vet?. Am I not se1.j
Sshly thinking of my own happiness,
: Stella, when I ought to be think:ng
| only of you? You know, my an-.jel,
| with what a life you must asso< iate
i yourself if you marry me. Ar*-, you
: really sure that you have love cnough
| and courage enough to be my v lfe ?''
She rested her head caressingly on
his shoulder, and looked up at him
with her charming smile.
"How many times must I say it"
she asked, " before you will believe me ?
Onco more, I have love enough to be
your wife ; and I knew it, Lewis, the
first time I saw you ! "Will that confession
satisfy your scruples ? And will
you promise never again to doubt
yourself or me ?"
Eomajne promised and sealed tin
promise?unresisted this time?with a
j kiss. " When are we to be married?"
he whispered.
She lifted her head from his shoulder
with a sigh. "If I am to answer you
honestly," she replied, "I must speak
i of my mother before I speak of myself."
Komayne submitted to the .duties ohis
new position as well as ho understood
" Do you mean that you have told
| your mother of our engagement?'' he
! said. " In that case is it my duty or
yours?I am very ignorant in these
matters?to consult her wishes? My
! own idea is, that I ought to ask her if
} she approves of me a3 her son-in-law,
and that you might then speak to her
of the marriage."
Stella thought of Komayne's tastes, all
in favor of modest retirement, and of
her mother's tastes, all in favor of ostentation
and display. She frankly owned
the result produced in her own mind.
JL am uiraiu iw vuuaiuu mj uuwci
| about our marriage," she said,
i Eomayne looked astonished. "Do
j you think I\Irs. Ejrecourt -will disapj
prove of it?' he asked.
i Stella was equally astonished. or*. her
| side. "Disapprove of it?" she repealed,
! " 1 know for certain that my mother
! will be delighted."
" Then where is the difficulty?"
There was but one way of answering
j that question. Stella boldly desctibed
; J her mother's idea of a wedding?includ;
ing the archbishop, the twelve bridei
| maids in green and gold, and the huni
dred guests at breakfast in Lord
j Loring's picture-gallery. Eomayne's
, ; consternation litv rally deprived him for
. | the moment of the power of speech. To
' mr +V>at 1-ia 1/->/Vb o/7 af. n. nrisoner
i j in " the condemned cell" might have
; looked at the sheriff, announcing the
; I morning of his execution, would I e to
. j do injustice to the prisoner. Ho receives
7 j his shock without flinching; ami, in
j I proof of his composure, celebrates his
? ! wedding with the gallows by a breaki
j fast which he will not live to digest.
3 j 'If you think as your mother does,"
1 | Romayne began, as socn as h9 had ret
! covered his self-possession, "no opinion
-! of mine snail stand in the way?." He
. i could get no further. His vivid imag
| ination saw the archbishops and the
5 : bridemaids, heard the hundred guests
e ! and their dreadful speeches; his voice
3 | faltered, in spite of himself.
Stella eagerly relieved him. " My
darling, I don't think as my mother
does," she interposed, tenderly. "I am
sorry to say we have very few sympathies
in common. Marriages, as I think,
ought to be celebratod as privately as
possible?the near and dear relations
present and no one else. If there must
be rejoicings and banquets, and hundreds
of invitations, let them come
when the wedded pair are at home after !
the honeymoon, beginning life in ear- j
iiest. These are odd ideas for a woman j
to have?but they are my ideas, for all j
Romayne's face brightened. "How
few women possess your fine sense and
your delicacy of feeling!" he exclaimed.
" Surely, your mother must give way
wlien she bears we are both of one riind
about our marriage':"
Stella knew her mother too well to
share the opinion thus expressed. Mrs.
Eyreeourt's capacity for holdinsr to her
own little ideas and for persisting (where
her social interests were concerned) in
trying to insinuate those ideas into the
minds of other persons, was a capacity
which no resistance, short of absolute
brutality, could overcome. She was
perfectly capable of worrying Romayne
laa wol; oc Iiot /I audi fori ?r? +.Tia utmost. I
limits of human endurance, in the firm I
conviction that she was bound to con- !
vert all herciics of their way of thinking
to the orthodox way in the matter of
weddings. Putting this view of the
case in all possible delicacy, in speaking
of her mother, Stella-expressed herself
plainly enough, rfcvertheless, to
snlighten liomayne.
He mado another suggestion.
" Can we mavrv privately," he said,
' 'and toll Mrs. Eyrecourfc of it afterward
This essentially masculine solution of
tLo difficulty was at onco rejected.
Stella was too good a daughter to sufiei
her mother to he treated with even the
appearance of disrespect.
"Oh," she said, " think how mortified
and distressed my mother would
be ? Sho must be present at my marriage."
An idea of a compromise occurred to
"What do you say," he proposed, j
" to arrangiug for the marriage privately,
and then telling Mrs. Eyrecourt
only a day or two beforehand, when it
would be too late to send out invitations
? If your mother would be disappointed?"
"She would be augvy," Stella inter|
" Very well, lay all the blame on me. j
Besides, there might be two othei
persons present, whom I am sure Mrs.
Eyrecourt is always glud to meet. You
don't object to Lord and LadyLoring?' |
" Object ? I wouldn't be without
? *r?/\ /I /I n -fr\y TT*V> ol O
liltou Uli iUJT iVi ?uv
" Any one else, Stella?'
"Any one, Lewis, whom yon like."
| "Then I say no one else. My own
I love! When may it be? My lawj
yer can get the settlements ready in
! a fortnight, or less. Will yon say in a
j fortnight?"
i His arm was round her waist; his
I lips were touching her lovely neck.
t-r?o TT?Aiv*or? fo 1-^ -rnfiictc\ in
out? \>tid JiUU t* WV1^1*U Us/ ItHkW liJ
the commonplace coquetries of the sex.
" Yes," she said, softly, " if you wish
it." She rose and withdrew herself
from him. "For my sake, we must not
be here together any longer, Lewis."
As she spoke, the music in the ballroom
ceased. Stella ran out of the conservatory.
The first person she encountered on
! returning to the reception-room was
Father BenwelL
The priest's long journey did not api
-near to have fatigued him. He was as
| X- - W
cheerful and as polite as ever, and so
paternally attentive to Stella that ic wa3
quite impossible for her to pass him
with a formal bow.
" I have come all the way from De!
vonshire," he said. "The train has been
| behind time, as usual, and I am one of
J the late arrivals in consequence. I miss
some familiar faces at this delightful
prrty. Mr. Bomayne, for instancePerhaps
ho is not one of the guests ?"
j "Ou, yes."
I " lias he gone away?"
"JNot tnat l Know* oi."
The tone of her replies warned Fathei
| Ben well to let Romayno be. He tiied
I another name.
" And Arthur Penrose?" he inquired
; next.
"I think Mr. Penrose has left us."
As she answered she looked toward
Lady Loring. The hostess was the center
of a circle of ladies and gentlemen.
Before she was at liberty Father Benwell
might take his departure. Stella
resolved to make the attempt for herself
which she had asked Lady Loring
to make for her. It was better to try
and be defeated than not to try at ali.
" I asked Mr. Penrose what part of
Devonshire you were visiting," she re
suined, assuming lier more gracious
manner. "I know something myself
of tlie north coast, especially the neighborhood
of Clovelly."
Not the faintest uange passed over
! the priest's face; his fatherly smile had
; never been in a better state of preservai
" Isn't it a charming place?' he said,
! ^ ith enthusiasm. "Clovellv is the
! most remarkable and most beautiful
rillnnrfl in *F.nrr1?irw1 T SO f?niOV(?d
j my little holiday?excursions by sea
j and excursions by land?do you know,
I I feel quite young again?''
i He lifted his eyebrows playfully and
: rubbed Lis plump lianas one over tho
: other wi:li such an intolerably innocent
I air cf enjoyment that Stella positively
| hated him. She felt her capacity foT
j self-restraint failing her. Under the
i influence of strong emotion her thoughts
| lost their customary discipline. In at!
tempting to fathom Father Benwell,
| she was conscious of having undertaken
! a task which required more pliable
! moral qualities than she possessed. To
| her own unutterable annoyauce she
I was at a loss what to say next. At that
? critical moment her mother appeared- I
eager for news of the conquest of Ho!
" My dear child, how pale yon look!"
j ?fdd Mrs. Eyrecourt. " Come with me>
directly; you must nave a glass of
' wine."
This deruerons device for entrapping
Stella into a private conversation
"Not now, mamma, thank von," she
Father Benwell, on the point of discreetly
withdrawing, stopped, and
looked at Mrs. Eyrecourt with an appearance
of respectful interest. " Yon*
mother?" he said to Stella. " I should
feel honored if you will introduce me.''
Having (uot very willingly) performed
the ceremony of presentation, Stella
drew back a little. She had no desire
to take any part in the conversation
that might follow?but she had hei
own reasons for waiting near enough to
hear it.
In the meanwhilo Mrs. Eyrecourt
turned on her inexhaustible flow 0/
small talk, with her customary facility.
No distinction of pes sons troubled her;
no convictions of any sort stood in hei
"Delighted to make your acquaint-.
ance, Father Benwell. Surely, I met
you at that delightful evening at the
duke's ? I mean when we welcomed the
cardinal back from Homo. Dear old
man?if one may speak so familiarly of
the prince of the church?how charmingly
he bears his new honors. Such
patriarchal simplicity, as every one iemarked.
Have you seen him lately?"
"Poor priests like me, madam, see
but little of princes of the church in
the houses of dukes." Saying this
with tho most becoming humility, he
turned the talk in a more productive
direction, before Mrs. Eyreconrt could
proceed with her reeollecti ms of " the
evening at the duke's."
"Your charming daughter and 1 have
been talking about Ciovelly," he continued.
" I have just been spending a little
holiday in that delightful place. It
was a surprise to me, Mrs. Eyrecourt, to
see so many really beautiful country
seats in the neighborhood. I was particularly
struck?you know it, of course?
?Dj iioanpaiK nouse.
Mrs. Eyrecourt's little twinkling eyes
suddenly became still and steady. It
was only for a moment. But even that
trifling change boded ill for the purpose
which, the priest had in view.
Having the opportunity of turning
Stella's mother into a valuable sourca
, of information actually placed in his
I hands. Father Ben well reasoned with
himself as he had reasoned at Miss Notman's
tea-table. A frivolous person was
a person easily persuaded to gossip, and
not likely to be reticent in keeping sej
crets. In drawing this conclusion the
! reverend father was justified by every
j wise man's experience of human nature
but he forgot to make allowances for
the modifying influence of circumstances.
Even the wits of a fool can be
quickened by contact with the world.
For many years Mrs. Eyrecourt had
held her place in society, acting under
an intensely selfish sense of her own
interests, fortified by those cunning
instincts which grow best in a barren
intellect. Perfectly unworthy of being
trusted with secrets which only concerned
other people, this frivolous
? ?? ? i-J A *1 rt /YI'OT.
creu L Ul'tJ UU UXU UC mc Uliaooauai'ic Q uaidian
of secrets which concerned herself.
The instant the priest referred indirectly
to Winterfield, by speaking of
Beaupark house, her instincts warned
her, as if in words: " Be careful for
Stella's sake!"
" Oh, yes!" said Mrs. Evrecourt. " I
know Beaupark house; but?may I
make a confession ?" she added, with
her sweetest smile.
Father Benwell caught her tone with
his custumary tact. "A confession at
a ball is a novelty, even in my experience,"
he answered; with his sweetest
" How good of you to encourage
me!" proceeded Mrs. Evrecourt. "No,
thank vou: I don't want to sit down.
Mr confession won't take long, and I
really must give that poor, pale daughter
of mine a glass of wine. A student
of human nature like you?they say all
priests are students of human natureaccustomed,
of course, to be consulted
in difficulties, and to hear real confessions,
must know that we poor women
I are sadly subject to whims and capri!
cal. We can't resist them as men do;
1 and the dear, good men generally make
i allowances for us. Well, do you know,
S that place of Mr. Winteriicld's is one of
mv caprices, un, ciear, x speaK care,
i lessly; I ought to have said, the place
| represents one of my caprices. In
j short, Father Ben well, Beaupark house
is perfectly odious to me, and I think
Clovelly tiie most over-rated place in
j the world. I haven't the least reason
i to give, but so it is. Excessively fool!
isli of me. It's like hysterics; I can't
! help it. I'm sure you will forgive me.
i There isn't a place on the habitable
I globe that I am not ready to feel interI
J AV/tAV\^
WCU 2.U.J u uovcocuvao x/g v vuciiiici
I am so sorry you went there. The
next time you have a holiday, take my
advice: trv the Continent."
"I should like it of all things," satf.
Father Benwell, "only I don't speak
-O -U ?nt- UK**
ir reuL'a. AHUW IUU iu ^u.ioo jujiy
court a glass of wine."
He spoke with tne ucoi't perfect tem!
per and tranquillity. Having paid his
j little attention to Stella, and having
! relieved her of the empty glass, he took
' his leave, with a parting request thorj
oughly characteristic of the man.
"Are you staying in town, Mrs.
I Eyrecourt?" he askcil.
! "Oh, of course, at the height of the
I season!"
"May I have the honor of cr.lling on
you, ard talking a little more about tli6
If he had said it in so many words he
i conld scarcely have informed Mrs.
j Eyrecourt more plainly that he thor|
oughly understood her, and that he
i meant to try again. Strong in the
j worldly training of half a lifetime, sb*
I nt once informed him of her address,
j with the complimentary phrases proper
| to the occasion. " Five o'clock tea on
! Wednesdays, Father Benwell. Don't
i forget!"
The moment ho was gone she drew
her daughter into a quiet corner.
"Dos't be frightened, Stella. That
sly old person has some interest in trying
to find out about Winterfield. Do
you know why?!'
[To hj continued.]
A second Methodist Ecumenical Conference
is to be; held in the United
States in 1887. '
Some Very Remarkable Yarns?Hiarory ol
Adventure* That Would >Iakc 3Inuchausen
Blunh lor Envy.
Everybody reads the newspapers,
writes " Gath," .therefore it is fair to
presume that everybody has heard oi
Major Tom Ochiltree of Texas, after
whom Jobn Chamberlin,the well-known
sport-man,named his famous race-hoise.
Major Tom was Marshal of Texas under
Grant, and is known as one of that distinguished
traveler's warmest adherents.
The major has the gift of speech
developed to the remotest limits of
exaggeration, which has caused him to
bo called by his many friends the
" Arabian Knight." But, although
his vivid imagination will not permit
him to repiy to a simple question about
the weather without decorating it with
what he calls a rainbow here and there,
it must not be inferred that in serious
matters the red-headed ranger of the
Bio Grande is at'all wanting in veracity.
His word is quite as good as his bond in
business matters. Perhaps I cannot
better illustrato-rihe fascinating characteristics
of one who 13 now a national
character than k;, 'lr50?Qa^hic^.tooJi
place the other* night at' the* Union
League Club, ^hiich has recently removed
to new and magnificent quarters
on Murray Hill. It is, of course, impossible
to put in dull type the major's
graceful gestures, his Kaleidoscopic
changes of thought and the magnetism
of his ardent manner, but a good idea
of the peculiarities which have made
him famous ma> be obtained from what
I was enabled to catch from a sofa on
which I sat an amused listener. It was
rather a slow evening at the Union
League, and the few members sitting
around the fire asked Major Ochiltree
to enliven them with one of his adventures.
Tom threw a searching glance
around to '' take in," as it were, his
audience, and related as follows :
"Well, gentlemen, I've nothing more
interesting in the caves of ray memory
than a wide range of travel and some
very eminent people I've met Ttdll be,
but I will try to entertain you until
my latch-key runs down. In the spring
of 1856 I found myself in Paris. I had
been sent by the State of Texas to
negotiate a loan to build a railroad between
Galveston and the City of Mexico.
Some of you may doubtless remember
that General Santiago Barbosa, then
Dictator of Mexico, was in favor of the
scheme. Of course, my presence on
the Bourse attracted considerable attention,
and I was approached one fine
morning on the Boulevard des Capu|
cines by a magnificently costumed
! chasseur, all gold lace auct red pant-s?
| looking noble, I tell you?who said in
j a sort of Algerian French: ' His Ma!
jesty commands your presence at the
! Tuileries to night at 10 o'clock.' I toJd
I him to say to my fellow-sovereign that
! I would be on deck shaip at the hour
! named, and not to forget it.
j "You said that in French?" said a
| consumptive-looking member, in a
modest, inquiring tone.
"Yes, s'r; I spoke just as good
French then as I do now. I met his
Majesty at the appointed hour, and by
Jove! the Empress was with him, and
I hadn't come dressed to see ladies.
Not to dwell too long on a phase of
European society which is now familiar
to so many traveled Americans, his
Majesty wanted me to go to Central
Africa and buy about 25,000 pounds of
elephant's,.ttreth^ivory.- you know?for
him. Eugenie wanted to deck her
Boudoir in the palace at Fontaine-bleau
in ivory, and the European narkets
were exhausted. At first I pleaued the
importance of the interests intrusted to
my care, but the Emperor interrupted
me with a gesture of impatience and
exclaimed : 4 Consider that loan placed.
I'll make Italy and Belgium take it all
this week.' The Empress, then the
most beautiful woman in Europe and
the most beautiful woman I ever saw,
except one?a Ss. Louis gambler's wife
?added her entreaties, paying a compliment
to my native State, and saying
she had heard that I had a faculty for
finding my way safely around Greasers,
Navajos, newspaper reporters and hackmen.
That setthd it! I started the
next day with a letter of credit on the
French Consul General at Cairo for
2,000,000 francs, about $400,000. The
Egyptian Government?Said Pasha was
in power?rendered me every assistance,
? 3 i t wv.;+?
ana in iour uiuutus x ?ua up wc niu?
Nile, three thousand miles from the
Delta, and a thousand miles inland toward
the Nyanzas, the guest of Mtesa,
the King of Uganda."
"Did you hear anything of Livingston
e?" asked a fat member.
"I haven't come to that yet," replied
the Texan major, fixing a bad eye or
him. "I became great friends with
Mtesa. He was a fine looking, splendidlj
formed man, six feet seven inches tall,
He was rather too fond of merissa, t
strong native beer, and when under its
influence would do things to make yoni
hair stand on end. One night after w?
had been on a hunt and knocked over s
few lions, souie blesooK, a dozen giranes
and a brace of hippopotami "
"Is it strictly 'potami or 'potamuses ?'
meekly inquired the thoughtful mem
The major darted a fiery glance al
h.;ra; but without reply went on.
*6ne night, I say, before I was in
terrupted by this lineal descendant o:
Noah Webster, Mtesa was as full as i
goat, and for some trifling infraction o:
court etiquette he ordered his corps o:
UliUlICI 5> OdiU oui uua \j?x vile ?L\si+\Ai
of 1300 of the first nobles about the
royal town and conrt. I was forced t<
witness the inhuman butchery, or rui
the risk of losing my own head if I ex
hibited the slightest sign of disgust
So I nerved myself up to it and smokec
an exquisitely-carved meerschaum pip<
presented to me by Marshal Canrobert
who had received it as a wedding gifi
from Victor Emmanuel?the King o
Italy, you know. Sir," said Major Tom
| severely, as one of the circle began t(
cough violently and hold his head down
"What did I understand you to say ?"
The circle looked a trifle embarrassed
but no one replying the ornate Texai
j went on.
"Yes, sir, by the liviDg Jingo ! he cu
off fifteen hundred human heads."
"Thirteen hundred, I think, was th<
exact number," said the convalescen
" Oh, haDg figure^! I've got no heac
for 'em. He cut oil all these heads be
fore daybreak, and when the sun rcs<
over the snow capped Mountains of thi
Moon and shone over the smooth water:
of the Victoria Nyanza, gilding then
like gold, there were dissevered head
and bodies, black fnd bloody, scattere(
over the kraal like an unusually blood;
"That is a bit of descriptive work fa
beyond Stanley, Speke, or Livingstone,'
said the literary member.
"I should smile," said the major, an<
he did.
"Well, I won't detain yon, gentle
men. I traded for all the ivory ther*
was in the kingdom of Uganda, and ac
companied by my own hnnters, wonl<
knock over from ten to a dozen elephant
a day, taking the tusks myself and leav
ing the meat for the common peopl
j and the dogs. Thousands of each fol
J lowed us."
"Are elephants good to eat ?" inquirei
. the fat member, with an eager look i:
his eyes.
"Good to eat?" said the fiery Texan
""Why, man, where were you brongh
np ? Boiled elephant's good. So i
fried elephant, hashed elephant, ele
j phant on toast and fin brcchetts but a:
I elephant foot, baked in hot ashes froi
the castor-oil tree, is the most delicious
morsel on earth, except buffalo hump
baked in persimmon ashes. Good ? i
r should say so. If they weren't so expensire
I'd give the club an elephant
barbecue next Summer at Coney Island,
and teach you pretended epicures sorne;
thing. But the night wanes, gentlemen.
Suffice it to say that I got back
' to Paris with the ivory for the Empress
and enough on my own account to supply
all Texas with billiard balls for ten
' years. I have not given this to the
public in book form because I saw nothing
in it bevond an occasional remini
scence of travels to amuse my friends.
Good night'!1'
"What became of the muney from
Italj and Belgium to build that railroad?"
inquired Kufus Hatch, but the
meteoric Texan was gone.
IIow General Morgan Lost His Life.
About the time the brigade was concentrated,
and as notes were being
compared with a view to determine on
some plan of operation against Morgan,
says Col. Macgowan in the Philadelphia
Times, a woman from Greenville, dripping
with rain and on horseback, was
conducted to the spot, apart, where the
ing. Her name w^^^m^bne was
I an alleged widow, formerly of Ohio.
In reality she was an adventuress, an
ex-variety actress, anxious to cause a
sensation, get herself talked about
among -the officers of the armies
and mentioned in reports and newspapers.
This woman correctly told
Gillem the situation at Greenville.
Morgan was sleeping at the mansion of
Mrs. Williams on the edge of the town,
and directly on the Ball's Gap road.
"Dick" Morgan's regiment was in camp
in a field a short distance west of the
town, and that side alone was picketed.
Duke, with the main force, lay nearly a
mile east of where Morgan had retired
for the night. This information gained,
(jiilem at once oraerea lagenon iu
proceed to Greenville with his regiment
and Newell's battalion. Capt.
lioberts of the tenth Michigan and
j Capt. Wilcox of the thirteenth Tennes]
see were sent in advance with their
companies, the main reconnoitering
force taking a more leisurely pace, and
making a detour to the left so as to
get around Dick Morgan's pickets, and
take his regiment in the rear. Wilcox,
who commanded the advance, when
within three-fourths of a mile of the
village got a glimpse of the confederate
reserve picketing in the road. He pro
^ x . r>. i x
posea to riouens lu uaic u ua=u
1 through the line and into the town
with the view of surrounding the house
where Morgan was in bed, capturing
him and his staff, and trust to luck to
gee out. Roberts was ready for any
enterprise, and closed eagerly with his
superior's daring proposition.
"Forward! trot! gallop! charge!"
rang out on the air and on the ears of
the startlfd, astonished confederate
sentries. They were literally ridden
over by the dashing federals, and before
Dick Morgan's subordinate, whom
i ne nan leic in coomanu, gou a ujhu m
| the saddle, tbo Williams house was suri
rounded by Wilcox's men. Tlaey shot
or captured the two or three guards,
picked up all the horses and an officer
or two, in less time than it required to
tell the story.
Morgan was wakened by the shooting
and tramping. He got on his
; breeches, boots and hat, and in his
phirt sleeves, revolver in hand, ran
Jt ?*An?/lc AT> f V? O
uuwu cms- 1 uug oivpiug g^uuuuo \jkx wv
east front of the house. In the northeast
corner was a grape arbor. As Mor1
gan stooped to pass tinder this in order
1 to reach the fence, he was discovered
1 by Andy Campbell, private in company
G, thirteenth Tennessee cavalry, who
fired on him. The ballet took effect
in Gen. Morgan's right side*, and, ranging
upward, on account of his stooping
1 position, passed out near the heart.
| He fell and died instantly. Meanwhile
- the balance of the officers in and nbout
!I the house, a fow orderlies and a squad
j from Dick Morgan's command, were
' captured and rushed off toward the
'! eastern mrt of the town. Campbeil
dismounted from his horse, took a look
at the man he killed, recognized him,
' he was a deserter from Morgan's first
1 command, raised the body, threw it
over his saddle bow, remounted and
1 rode away with his companions. They
1 went pell mell through the town, filed
to the right, passed out at the north,
1 bore to the right around the high hill,
1 where the remains of Andrew Johnson
' are buiied, and though pretty hotb
pursued by a portion of Duke's men,
they reached the Bull's Gap road, neai
" the point where tbev had charged the
confederate picket a half hour before.
Taking His Father's Advice.
Not long ago a young man in Carson
got married and started for California
witn his young wife. As he boarded
the train his father bade him good-bj
and gave him the paternal blessing.
"My son," said the aged sire, shaking
with emotion, etc., "remember these
words if you never seeme again : -NeveJ
go into a place where you wouldn't take
, your wife."
I mi
rinAco /?nnrv
my uuupic ocblilcu u .U.au(/U^ uu
ty, and last week the old nail wen!
t down to visit them. He proposed s
^ bear hunt, and they were fortunate
enough to track a grizzly to his laii
' among some boulders in the chapparal,
' As the two approached, the bea:
j; j roused up and sent forth a growl of de
p ! fiance that shook the trees.
f j "Go in there and kill 'ia," said the
5! old man, excitedly.
* I The son held back, further acauain
: j tance with the bear seeming in some
1 i respects undesirable.
" j "Count me out," he said.
: j ' 'Have I crossed the seas and settlec
" I in America to raise a coward ?" shoutec
51 the father, brandishing his gun.
' j "I recollect your advice when I lef;
?! Carson," was the reply. "Row can ]
* { forget your sage precepts? D:dn't yoi
7 ! tfc^ii iiie JLiCVCI IU > ?tz a. Wuiwu
) take my wife? Now, how would Sa
' look iu there with that bear ?"
The old man clasped his dutiful sor
? to his bosom, and as the bear issuet
1 forth, erclaimed :
' Speaking of Sally, let us haster
' home. Oar prolonged absence rnigh
cause her needle-s alarm."
* Iu about fifteen minutes they hac
reached the ranch, the old man a littJ<
ahr-ad, and ihe distance vras about fou:
1 j miles.
5 { A K? mark..ble Lake.
3! Oregon has a btrauge lake. It i
s i known as the Great Sunken lake, ant
i' is situated in the Cascade mountaios
3! According to a loc^l paper this ]?k<
1; rivals the famous valley of Sinbad tb<
j ! Sailor. It is thought to average 2,001
! feet down to the water all around
r The depth of the wafer is unknown
" j and its surface is smooth and unruffled
I as it is too far below the surface of tin
I 1 mountains that air currents do not- cf
feet it. Its length is estimated at 1:
- or 15 miles, and its width 10 or 12
e There is a mountain in the cen
- ter having trees upon it. It lie
1: still, silent and mysterious in th<
s ; bosom of the everlasting hiJs, like i
- j huge well scooped out by the hand:
j of the giant genii of the mountains i]
1 the unknown ages gone by, and aroum
{it the primeval forests watch and war<
I! are keeping. A visiting party fired :
a rifle into the water several times at a;
angle of 45 degrees and were able t
. note several seconds of time from th
II report of the gun until the ball struc
e | the water. Sach seems incredible, bn
j- j is vouchsafed for by our most reliabl
a citizens. The lake is certainly a moa
a ! remarkable curiosity.
j The Sights Seen Th<?rn by an American
A few lionrs a^o, writes a St Peters
burg correspondent, I received a cal
from Mr. Supieuza, the deputy of Baranotl",
the prefect of police. He came
on behalf of the prefect to ask when it
would suit my convenience to go and
sse one of the state prisons. As I happened
to have a little leisure I thought
it well to make my acceptance of the
suggestion an immediate one, and to
take advantage of the official carriage
which was waiting below. I had a particular
desire to see the great prison
which is devoted exclusively to the de*
" - * xl- - J ? J C.,^4
tCIitlOLl OX Hie iicxuseu. auu it woo juot
thither that we went as fast as the prefect's
magnificent Russian trotters, as
blacKasa pair of crows, -were pleased
to take us. Arriving at ti:e prison we
sent in our names, and a moment later,
&L Gregorieif, the director, hurried out
to receive us. We were requested to inscribe
our names and other personal particulars
in the register, and we then
took our way first toward the women's
department. As we went along the
director told me that the prison can^
hundred of whoirfmav "be lerhSes^'and
that there is not a single vacant place
at present, because of the numerous
political trials now pending.
I have seen enough filthiness in
Russia to satisfy me for a lifetime, and
I was pleasantly and greatly surprised
at the perfect order and cleanliness
that reigned within these prison walls.
The air was quite fresh, there was no
dust, arid all the metal appointments
and furnishings fairly shone. The
main prison building consists of three
stories; the lower is at present occupied
by persons accused of ordinary offenses,
while the upper two are reserved for
the political prisoners. The former
ecjoy some fair degree of liberty; duriDg
the day they occupy one great general
i h*ir Mil thftv inav also exercise for
! half an hour daily in the common court
j of the prison. But the latter are shut
! up in single cells, and can only take
the air each by himself, and then each
| must be accompanied by a gendarme.
! Entering the great ball of the women,
I we found th*re some twenty unfortu;
nates, of various ages, who all stared at
j us with an easily explicable curiosity.
| One chamber is reserved for nursing
I womec, of whom we saw several?a
! sorry sight, indeed.
Most of the women were very ugly,?
i evea the younger ones. Among them I
i was shown the woman Sachanova, who
^nrmyrnimsed on account
! of the attempt of March 13, and whom
11 found to bear a striking resemblance
| to Louise Michel, the heroine of the
| French commune.
From this part of the prison we
j passed into the mal9 wards. In the
; lower one there were some fifty thieves
! and assassins, among whom was a boy
oi fifteen.
"What are you here for?" said my
"Because of a bit of awkwardness,
: that's all, monsieur," said the boy.
''How awkwardness?"
"Why, ycu see. monsieur, I happened
to give one of my comrades a cuffing;
i it was a little too beaw, perhaps, for
he died of it," replied he, with a grin.
"Have you ever been as awkward as
! that before ?"
j "That was my third piece of ill-luck,"
! said he, whh a cheerful air; but there
I was a look on hi3 lace as though he
! miehfc easily be as awkward again if he
liaii the chance.
The director said his sentence was
settled upon, and would shortly be
communicated to him?perpetual banishment
to Siberia.
Leaving his room we ascended a
spiral staircase of iron to the second
story. The director requested us to
converse in very low voices and to step
very lightly as we passed through the
1 j galleries, this being in accordance with
; tbd prison regulations, which prescribe
1 that political prisons shall enjoy an ab1
solute tranquillity. In all ihc corridors
there weie stationed gendarmes, while on
the lower floor there ^cere only sisters of
charity. Tliese gendarmes wear felt
1 slippers, so that they make no noise, and
may so approach unheard the little
; peep holes wrought in the solid doors
of the cells. Most of the prisoners
u i were reading books wincn tney naa
been allowed to borrow from the prison
: library. I was greatly impressed by
|! observing that the majority were youug
men and lads, some perfect gamins,
; who had been nothing but ignorant
and obedient instruments in the hands
! of bold and unknown leaders. A good
many there were, however, who evidently
belonged to the better classes of
society; and there was one of extraor1
dinary beauty?an old man, who was
sitting upon his bed. looking straight
' before him with moist eyes, and strok:
ing mechanically with his left hand his
long, white beard.
> In the hospital I saw one young man
\ whom his sister, a young and rarely
r beautiful girl, was tending. I also saw
5 the celebrated Dr. Welmer, whom his
brother was nursing through an attack
of pleurisy. TYelmer was accused of
11 j taking part in the well-remembered atL
tempt upon the life of the czar on the
5 railway near Moscow, and of having
: supplied to Solovieff the revolver which
the latter used in the attack on the emr
peror near the winter palace. Welmer
denied everything, but he has, uevertheless,
been condemned to hard labor
* for twenty years in the Siberian mines.
He had already been sent to the prison
' of S3. Peter and Panl to await the de3
parture of the nest gang of convicts ;
but on falling ill, he obtained leave to
. be brought back here, because the hos|
pital is better. From these ttoriss we
1 were conducted to the ground floor
. again, when we saw the chapel, which
f! j is quite large, and a vast kitchen,
^ j where all was activity over a meal which
1 | was in preparation. "We then quitted
j the establishment, carrying with us a
1! favorable impression of the humanity
| and consideration with which the direc|
i tor evidently managed it.
, I A Tough Bear Story.
t I A k-tter from Milford, Pa , gives the
I following bear story, told by the (alj
! l?ged) veracious sheriff: "Joe Atkinson
i | and me w*s lumbering: over on a tract
I j of land that belonged to some fellow
over in Monroe connty. Jake Kli?-nbans
had got all ihe bark off the tract,
and we were fiaishirg up the lumber
3 We'd seen signs of bear, and an old
1 bark peeler told us there was a bi^ one
. j that kept, in a swamp down the creek o
J j wavs. Every hunter that had been in
9! the woods for six months, he said, had
3 ; pur a ball in the bear, and the old cuss
. I had carried off half a doz-n traps and
, j got rid of them in f-ome way. One
, jSiturday Joe and me made up oui
ft 1 minds to take a day off and try and
I cdptuie this tough old aoirnal Wt
2 i came on to the bear in less than at]
!. j hour after we started out He came
J tearing out of the swamp as if some
s one was urging him with a three-tine
ft : pitchfork, and made for the top of a
a little ridge about a hundred leet away,
s j Joe let him have his rifle barrel and
a j then his buckshot. Bat the bear kept
I! right od. I got both my barrels in on
I - him, hut the old fellow never paid anj
a I attention to us until he got to the top
a | of the ridge. The ridge wasn't more
o than twenty feet hi&h, and it ran up tc
e quite a narrow top. When the bear gol
k j up there he stopped, turned with his
t j face toward us, raised up on hie
haunches, and opened his mouth ven
II near a foot wide. He was in plain,
! open sight, only a hundred feet away,
and we just thought we had him foul."
" bid you shoot him?" a^ked Biilv
Watson, as the sheriff pause i to get his
share of the refreshments the county
clerk had ordered.
' Suoot him?" said the sheriff;
; " Shoct him ? Well, I think it might be
! called shcoting, unless my memory is
very short. Why, that bear never stirred
I from liis tracks, and Joe and me pep
pered away at him for more than a
J quarter or an hour, and we hit him
every time. All he'd do was to give
himself a whack with fi -st one paw aad
then the other wherever a ball or charge
of buckshot got in m him. That Wos
all our tiring seemed to distuib him,
and finally Joe ?.aid to me:
it i 0,.? { TY^of +
OCC iiCIC . JL/U JUU auun nu?u cuau
old cuss is going to do ? "Well, he's
just waiting until our ammunition gives
out, and then he'll give us the grand
bounce out o' these woods.'
"By this time 1 only had one bullet
left, and Joe only had three. We had
plenty of powder, so we concluded not
to use any more on the bear by shooting,
as there didn't seem to be any use
in it. Joe begau to skirmish ar^/und a
little. Online other side of the ridge
he discovered-a ground hog's hole,
VVW ' VMV ' j ^ ^
know, an J he saw that this ground hog's
hole was just a bully chance to "spring
a mine on our living target. So he
takes all the powder the both of tis had
?about three pounds, I guess?and
poured it in a leather pouch he had, and
made as suug a bumb as we could wish
for. Then, while I kept the bear's
attention by pretending to be crawling
np the side of the hiil as if I meant to
tackle him, Joe crept up on the other
side and rammed the lt-tther cartridge
into the hold and tamped her solid.
He laid a truin of powder down the hill
n tttotcj fA trifl f/% ynn or>
her. In about two seconds the top of
I the hill and the bear were sailing to|
ward the clouds. The bear went up ten
feet above the top of a big chestnut
tree there was on the ridge, turned
over a couple of times, and tumbled
back into the tree.
"Now, of course, all bears ain't as
tough as this bear was, but when the
stones and dirt and saplings got
through falling, there we saw old bruin
perched on a big branch of the chestnut,
looking a little surprised, to be
sure, but gazing down at us with actually
a smile on his face, as if he rather
j enjoyed the novelty of the little expej
rienco he had just passed through,
i That was all the change there seemed to
j be in the old cuss's appearance.
"Joe looked at me, and I looked at
i Joe. Then we b>th looked at the bear,
j ancl then at the hole in the ground.
; Neither of us said a word for ten min!
utes. Then I said:
" ' Let's go home, Joe. There's a
i thunder shower coming up, any way,
| and we don't want to be out in it.'
" There was a heavy snower coming,
| but Joe said he wasn't going to quit
until he got that bear. So back he
started for camp after an ax. I stayed
to watch the bear. The thunder and
I lightning was something fearful. When
Joe got back he went to work chopping
i down the chestnut tree. In about an
| honr down she came, bear and all. In
the fall the tree fell plumb across the
: bear's back, and broke it, but before
| Joe could get at him with the ax he
! twisted from under the tree, and away
! 1 .J S AU ? TC7?
I HQ tT^vieu buwaru iuc o?raiup. * t c
would have lost that bear as sure as
guns, but just then there came one of
the hardest thunder claps I ever heard,
and not more than a second afterward
lightning struck not ten feet away. It
struck that bear square in the head.
And, sir, may be you won't believe it,
but it's; a fact, the old cuss's head was
fo hard that the lightniDg bounced off
it like a rubber ball, and carromed on a
! big oak tree off to the right, tearing it
j into a million pieces. The bear was
stunned considerably by the lightniug.
I and before it came too Joe got hid
work in with the ax and finished him.
I We drasrged the carcass into camp. It
j weighed 417 1 4 pounds, and we sold it
j for ten cents a pound to a boardingj
house keeper from Poc:no. Three days
i afterward he came back and demanded
j eighty cents. Ee bad taken eight
j pounds of lead out of different parts of
| the bear, and of course we deducted it
j from the bill."
Tue Saso instances J~
! It seems ? -ramount of moj^ ea^.
solid trurb^ar i^SSfbut there is a tree
in the 'Eaen 0?{es which makes a very
agrA-rs p?and wholesome food for thcuj
f?W2s of people. The food is well
known in this country, though the tree
itself is never seen, being the sago so
often made into puddings and custards.
A full-grown tree is cut down
close to the ground. A strip of the
bark is then torn off, laying bare the
j pith, which is about as soft as dried
With a club of heavy wood, pointed
| at the end with sharp quartz rock, the
j natives cut out this pith, which is car!
ried to the water-side, and being mixed
j with water, is kneaded and pressed
j against a strainer till the starch is dis!
solved and passed through the strainer.
I *f fy\-vi V? i-\ 1 A1 ri rr in _
j A UC WUICi UU<IU1U^ UUV OCWk vui i j>a wviw
i tion is then passed through the trough,
where the sediment is deposited, and
the water is drawn off. It is then put
up in cylindrical cakes, of about thirtysix
pounds weight, and sold as rau
The raw sago, to prepare it for use,
is broken up, dried by exposure to the
sun, powdered and sifted. This flour is
made into cakes, easily baked, which
are very delicious if eaten with buttei
and a mixture of sugar and grated cocoanut.
The cakes are not only eaten hot, bul
are often dried in the sun, and put
away in bundles for future rise. Thej
will keep good for years, it is said,
Children are fond of them, even wher
j hard and dry; but older persons gen
: erally dip them in watsrand toast them.
I when they relish as well as when fresl:
| baked, or by soaking and boiling, mak<
j them s<irve as puddings, or in the plact
of vegetables.
This food, as may be imagined, is ex
. traordinariJy cheap, costing much less
than lice among the Hindoos, or pota,
toes among the Irish.
A good sized trunk of a sago "tree
! twenty feet long and live in cirenmfer
J ence, will make at least thirty bundle
! of thirry rounds ?-ach. Eacn bnndie, i
I is computed, wiil make sixty cakes, al
, j lowing three <-akes to a pound, and nv<
. cakes are considered by the natives sr.f
j ticient for a full day's food. A singU
good-sized tree will, therefore, fornisl
i! food for a native for an entire >ear, ant:
i I many of them live upon it almost ex
, ' clusiveiy.
; One needs to labor^>nlv a few days t<
! secure thi>> supply of food for the year
. j A man can reduce a tree to powder ji
l i ten days, and a woman, in the tarn*
, j time, can reduce it all into cakes. Bi
, I steady labor for twenty days, therefore
, | provision may be laid np for a year.
k j But j<uch che?p living proves favora
i j ble neither to health of body nor o
[ mind. A uniform diet of *ago, variec
; : only by fish, rarely by fruit or vegeta
[ i bles, is not good for the body, and th<
r; want of a stimulus to exertion is preju
) dicial to the character.
I What is got easily is generally -wortl
, little; and the natives, having no ccca
; sion fur physical toil or for carefu
,: thrift, have no force of character.
> ' ?
; The boldest man of whom there is'air
, j record lias just married bis mother-ia
, | law in New Jersey.
Journal* of S mthern California ex- v^?
pr^s the opinion that the project of
dividing the S'Aie inro two, which has
been so actively advocated for a time,
is a failure. They believe that the .j? %
present rapid development and increase
m wealth und population in the southern
counties, and the conflict between
their interests <tnd those of the northern
counties, will in time force a aivi- r
sion, but that the movement is now
premature, and is regarded generally ,'i
as an att mpt on the part of interested
politicians to create a batch of new
I offices.
? m
A correspondent of the Rural N&ie
Y"rler stales thai Eibanah Watson, a
a iVwtit "NT Y.. was the real
Ui\.AV,uuuu v 1 ry ? ' - ? - 7 .
anilior of the present system of fairs
and Cdttle shows sustained and directed
by agricultural aocirties, and the first _ ,
oue was held under his direcuon-at ~ ^ ^
Pittstieid, M iss., where _he~?ad a^arm,
in the >ear 1810. ^Tirisfwas bUch a success
that Watson soon after proceeded
to organize agricultural societies and
to establish fairs and cattle shows in
other places, and now in every S'ate of
P^n^ttoe are more or less of
by 'legislative ai'cL'*" '
The valley of death, a spot almost as
terribie as the prophtt's valley of dry
bones, lies just north of the old Mormon
road to California, in Utah a region
thirty miles long tv thirty broad, ... .'4
and snrrounded, except at two points, -'?-+
i v inaccessible mountains. Ic is totally
I devoid of water and vegetaticn, and the ?
I sbaiow of a bird or wild beast never
| darkened its white, glaring sands. In
j 1857 eighty-seven families, with hun|
dreds of animals, perished here, and
j now, after twenty-two years, the
! wagons stand, still complete, the
i iron work and tires are bright; and the
i shriveled skeletons lie side by side.
There lately died in England a man
who has done more service to his country
than thousands whose names are
household words. This was Professor
Postgate Working as a boy in a gro-~~~--^.
cer's shop, he became disgusted-with
i the adulterations he saw practiced, and
j resolved, when he got the chance, to
I t.i*v and arouse rmbiic opinion on the
subj-ct. This he was at 1-ngth enabled
to do. through one of the m-mbers
from Birmingham, and the recommendations
of the select p trliamentary committee,
now law, against adniterafcion
were almost entirely based on Mr. Postgate's
recommendations, which have
done very much to secure to the poor
i man especially the worth of his hardI
earned monev.
Dr. Crevaux, a French naval surgeon,
who has been exploring the northern
parts of South America, particularly in
tbe valley of the Oiinoco, savs that the
Gaaraunos, at the delta of that river,
take refuge in the trees when the delta
is inundated. There they <nake a sort
of dwelling with bjanchts and clay.
The women light, on a small piece of
floor, the fire needed for cooking, and
the traveler on the river by night often
tecs with surprise long rows of flames
at a considerable height in the air. The
GaarauLOs dispose of their dead by
linn<rfn<r them in hammocks in the tops.
o?o ?.
of trees. Dr. Creva^x also met wittf
earth-eating tribes. The clay, which" ^
often serves for their food whole months,.
is a mixture of oxide of iron and organic
According to an English geographical
writer, there are four vast areas still to
be opened np or traversed by civilized
mart, and which amoog them constitute
about one-seventeenth of the whole area
j of the globe. Of these there is the
antartic region, which in extent is about
seventy-five times r hat of Great Britain;
the second lies about the north pole ;
the third is in Central Africa, and the
fourth in Western Australia. The south,
polar region referred to is almost con- ?I
terminous with the antarctic circle.
j The vast African area reaches on the
j west very closely to the coast, and it is
j only near the equator that it has more
| than snpe)ficially been driven iuland.
j in Australia the great undeveloped
| region is that w1-*-**
j track exploit from north to south by
: Ssuart, and which now forms the line of
I telegraphic communication across that
| continent.
I The story of S. A. Butler, as giveu in
the Southern Workman, is interesting
and instructive. He is a negro reared
in the United Spates, being the son of a
preacher in Washington. He was educated
in Paris and bec*me master of the
French. German and Iiaiian languages.
Attracting Anson Burlingame's attention,
he mad? him his private secretary
when appointed minister to China Butler
soou left the service of the embassy,
and held positions in one of the great
* .-olinnciic on^ <3!fcr
auici;^c?.u uauiu^, M. w. ?.???
the Siiaughai Navigation company.
Finally, the steamers of the compauy
were bought by a number of Chinese
merchants, who took Butler into their
employ and gave him full authority to
j reorganize the steam ser.ice as he
. j thought best. Butler fully vindicated
| j the confidence reposed in him, and
' I managed the affairs of the company go
judiciously that at the end of two years
it had gained a net profit of SI,000,000,
with every indication of heavy dividends
' in the future. The company now owns
; thirty-six steamers and is becoming a
' formidable rival of European steaSrs?
' owners, with whom is destined to arise "
: a vigorous struggle for supremacy on
the Pacific. Bntler is tbe moving spirit
in all the enterprises of the company.
| Mothers and nurses, a New York
paper declares, cannot be too careful
' about the soap tbey use on the little
1 ones. Few but physicians know ho*?
many of the so-called skin diseases
1 | among children are caused by the use
J i of adulterated, poisonous soap. An ,
3! analysis of several cakes of the pretty
3and perfumed toilet soaps that are sold
! on the streets showed the pre*ejce of
'' ground plass, soluble glass, silex, pipe
31 clay, rotten stone, borax, plaster of
" ! Pads tin crystal, magne.-ia, {mmice
! st me, oatmea1 and oth<-r substances,
* which are added to give fcthe soap
i li.nlnoss to?crhn?!ss. or clear
4 I ues>. The eomiuon colorings are vcr1
| milion, Venetian red and carmine, ul"
; tramarine green, pit fi^ment green,
1 copp?-ras. Spauisii brown, ultramarine
blues, yellow and scarlet anuii.es and
2 burnt umber. Many of the p. rfuming
j ngredieijts, thon^h harmless, in rhem
selves. become chemically poisonous
: by admixture. Adding lhe dangers
! ir.?m ail th?-se to the rancid, diseased,
} | putrid qualities of grease used, and
: mo'liers mav ?ell be appalled at the
1 ; permanent evils these neat-looking,
" drl:citrlv-scented blocks of toilet soap
' ; con'uin, ready to l e feleased whenever
' moistened and applied to the babe 8
? I The Rev. S. S. Hunting appeared on
1 the stage of a theater at Des Moines,
" ! Iowa, at the conclusion of a regular
5 performance, and married an actor and ^
actie.Ns who still wore the costumcs of
j the plat.
1 ! i
"! Chicago ami Ne* Origans are the
* j only American cities that license gambling
f Thirty murderer* are in jail in Phila-S*^^
j delt hia. That is nothing. Ntw York"
j has three times that number. *

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