Newspaper Page Text
THOS. J. ADAMS PROPRIETOR.
EDGEFIELI), S. C., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 17, 1898.
Bank in Eastern
Capital in City.
every 6 months.
VOL. LXIII. NO. 33
Ob, many ships have I at sea
That sailed ?way long years ago.
Some day they'ro coming back to me,
But when and how I cannot know.
Sometimes I wander on tho shore,
And watch the far horizon dim,
Where vanished in those days of yore
My argosies so fleet and trim.
I scan with cager eyes the waves
That dance and sparkle in the light;
A vision fuir my fond heart craves,
Alus! no sail Jr. yet in sight. :
Ofttimes I find npon the sand
A broken plank, a shattered spar,
> bent and rusty iron band
Oh, voiceless tale of wrecks afur.
N early life John
Shad had no con
nection with tho
Quakers. At the
time when he at
tained to manhood
he had no% "re
ligion," but this
was owing rather
to his Bhyness in
to any pa 'Ocular
sect thau to lack
of spirituality of
'?&?fe mind. Hitherto
Iiis hungry heart
had gone out to
workings of na
ture, and ho had
i'W- Bun and the stars
and the clouds, the flowers and the
birds. The night winds on his face,
the cries of migratory wibi fowl cross
ing the darkening sky-these were the
things that created a great yearning
within him. In short, he was Pan
theist without knowing it.
These thoughts held him until Dinah
Bebb came that way ns a pioneer of
the Primitive Methodists-the first
woman preacher that had appeared on
the countryside. She was a demure
looking maiden, with a good deal of
decision about her woll-sot month, and
her bearing had a quiet dignity that
comported well with her features.
Her advent to the countryside was
the signal for a solemn warning
against her and her preaching; and it
was hinted that she was a heretic, if
she was not so set down in as many
words. Dissent had never before
raised its head in Hattock, and now it
appeared in a specially heretical form.
And so Dinah Bebb was denounced.
Hattock was surrounded by-a great
belt ot woodlands. and__j*5. snrink
.copulation consisted of small fiTJUers.
an(lTh?frt?o^rDurners. Its baokslid
ings on the surface were poaching and
smuggling, the rest of the.deadly sins
being kept well under. Poaching was
the unpardonable sin to the squire,
the non-payment of church dues to
the "priest." Tho poachers knew
that if they were caught they would
be "everlastingly damned," and those
who neglected to pay-church "dues"
were condemned to the Bame state
not outwardly, but by iufereuce.
This last was the fate of a small kuot
of Quakers who had a meeting house
behind the Pit Farm, and whose goods
were regularly distrained upon in con
sequence. These queer people had,
it seemed, inconvenient notions as to
the payment of tithe, and so their prod
uce was forcibly, and sometimes
Findiug Dinah Bebb alone, and
learning the nature of her mission, it
wa?? one of these who took her in, when
she had failed to And a lodging among
the dwellers on thc fell-side.
Selecting a time when there was no
meeting elsewhere, Dinah Bebb had
given out that she would be on the
Common* on the first Sunday after
noon, and that she would then speak
to the people. As the timo arrived
th? woodlander* wera there, but they
mostly stood afur o?T. Within th
circle, immediately in front, v. ere a
few of the Quakers-among them some
women-aud behind, Johu Shad, with
no "religion" at all. These were tho
respectful listeners. The rest were
further away, and either gaped, or gig
gled as they watched the scene.
Dinah Beb1? stood beneath a tree
with a book in her hand, Availing.
And then, although stragglers were
still coming up, punctual to the ap
pointed time the preacher carno for
ward, aud, standing upon a point ol
rock, commenced her address.
"What shall it profit a man," she
asked, "if ho guiu the whole world
and lose his own soul?" then paused.
There seemed somethiug startlingly
new in the que?tion, and a great silence
fell upon the crowd.
She spoke quietly and impressively,
in a low, sweet voice; then, as she
caught her listeners, with more
emotion; and finally, bringing up a
force and fire her slight, frame seemed
incapable of, she ended by an agoniz
ing appeal that was HO full of an in
finite tenderness as to sway every
She bad stopped. But before the
people could recover themselves sho
had dropped on her knees and was
Her pale, thin face was turned to
the illimitable sky, and, with arms out
stretched, her appeal was toward tho
setting sun which, with its last rays,
just at that moment wrapped her in a
The "woodlauders were impressed
shaken as they had never been before,
and they left the Common with an un
easy'feel lng that, somehow, th;;y had
been set agaiust themselves.
Since her coming to Hattock Dinah
Bebb made the moat of her time. She
had found out soniethiugof the wood
landers, of their homes and of what
was their condition. That night she
visited the wife of a charcoal burner
in one of the huts, and as she re
turned along one of the rides of the
forest she was stopped by a mau. He
had followed her at a respectful dis
tance, and was now awaiting her. II
was John Shad.
They drew aside into one of the
cleavings, and sat down on a felled
oak. It was late when they left the
woods, and that night John Shad com
menced his conversion.
Then anxious feari crowd In my breast,
And voil.tho sunshine in thesky.
Shall thus "ny good ships ond their quest?
Shall this their fate bo by-and-by?
O frionds with ships far out at sea,
Thnt sniled away so long apo,
Some day they'ro comlnpr back to thoe,
But when and how wo may ?ot know.
Percho ico with sails all rent and soiled,
Battored and bruised thy ships may bo,
Of beauty and grace they mny bo despoUed,
Heavy and slow they may como to thee.
But como they morning, noon or nisrlit,
With flying colors or broken mast.
Our hearts will cry with a thrill of delight,
"Thank God our ships havo come In at
-Clara W. Williams, in Boston Transcript.
Tho Quukers'mecting house stood on
the edge cf the clearing, its "up-keep"
being represented by the ront of the
Pit Farm. It was a small, white
washol building, with plain unvar
nished benches^ An oak gallery rau
along ono end, and on this was a mat
of plaited straw. About a dozen
"Friends" habitually attended, a mau
and woman Friend coming on a pillion
from one of tho Upland farms. The
Quakers ministered among themselves,
aud as au "attender," and sitting just
within the door, John Shad had sat for
a number of years. This quiet, self
contained man who lived in tho woods
was welcome among the little com
As time wont on, and ho never
broached thc subject of "applying for
membership," some of the Friends sug
guested that, did he make application,
they had no doubt it would be accept
able, especially if he were found to be
at one with them on the main point of
doctrine. After pondering the matter
for a timo Shad saw no reason why he
should remain outside, aud according
ly made application. In this way he
might share the larger responsibilities
and partake of thc fuller privileges
that attached to membership. The
outcomo of his application was the ap
pointment of two aged Friends to visit
him. If tho conference was satisfac
tory, they would recommend his ad
mission to the Society.
But the recommendation never came,
and it was in this wise: To pursue his
nature studios Johu Shad had but few
other aids than his gnu-and his gun
was an un-Friendly possession. Then,
again, his leather jacket was adorned
with brass buttons depicting .".porting
subjects-buttons much worn through
transference froni one garment to an
other. These were an heirloom, and
not lightly to be parted with, although
they were hardly less subjects -of
and all his rastip appliances? No; if
Quakerism could not embrace him
with the love of nature and sport upon
him he must bide outside?
The woods were wide. Tho seasons
would come avid go, thc winds and thc
tides. He was content.
How much the nature hunger had
entered into his soul no ono knew.
Keenly as he loved tho woodland
creatures alive, his gnu brought them
withiu his grasp. His knowledge and
collection of birds would have been all
incompleto without it. Nature was
his life-study; it had got into his brain
and blood. He had the forest fauna
by heart, und when he was r.ot char
coal burning or peeling oak-bark, he
made excursions to widen the scope
of his observations. Whoa learned
entomologists came collecting to tho
woods, ho was consulted as to the
spots affeoted by the rarer species of
butterflies and moths, and iu this way
some of his observations had found
their way into print-into quito learned
How Dinah Bebb becanio Dinah
Shad; hpw the hut in tho clearing was
enlarged, and how John Shad con
tinued in his quiet mind and still at
adod tho old meeting honsenoed not
bc told. But these things were and
so they continued for years.
No doubt the meeting was ashamed
of having rejected Shad, but it seemed
to havo been the mutual misfortune
that ho had been interviewed by two
of tho most conservativo elders among
But then, did not tho Society's Book
of Christian Disciplino and Practice
set itself against all sports-sports
which were demoralizing, and inter
fered with growth in grace.
Tho Quakers were a reminiscence iu
llattock. Only the name remained.
Sixty years ago they had been more
than a name. Traces of thom' were
common-of their doings, their say
ings, of the stand they had made
against what *hey deemed oppression.
There was their "Book of Sufferings,"
a pretty piece of roading in itself.
Turning its yellow-stained pages one
laughed aud wept with these dead
Quakers in turn-but always admired
them. It was a curious patchwork of
comedy and tragedy, 'this "book of
sufferings." A "stiff-necked gener
ation," the "priest" had .led them
(having an eye on his tithe;, and well
ho might! But they aro gone, all
True, the little meeting house re
mains-still lovingly tended and cared
for by the rejected of the elders, John
Shad -the solo survival of Quakerism.
Sixty years ago the quiet spirit of the
'little community had entered into his
soul, and he lived on in the Faith. But
he could never be induced to renew
his application. And only once, with
H quiet smilo, he gave the reason. He
still wore tho brass buttons of his
leather shooting jacket-and were not
"With his eighty years upon him,
what a man was John Shud, beautiful
with age! His soul looked out of his
face. Tanned was his face, his fine
square head covered with a profusion
of silvery hair. With all his ?years,
he stood as straight as an ash-sapling
-a perfect woodlander! In his age
as in his youth, he lived face to face
with Nature. Never was such a poor,
rich man. Nature, his mistress, he
would say, dowered, him with riches
showered her bounties before him.
Where the clearings had been he
bttilt gardens and orchards. Hanging
gardens he made among the rocks and
scars-spots in which it was impossi
ble to tell where Nature ended and
art began. He grew the precious
herbs and knew the lore of all tho
flowers? His patches of corn were
among the rocks, . and everywhere
about him tho desert blossomed as the
Bu? over and above ali, the meeting
house was his chiefest care. How he
tended it! Nothing v/us ever allowed
to desecrate it-nothing except the
pair of swallows that came year by
year to nest among the rafters. How
tho birds of raturn were waited and
watched for, and what a ioyous daj*
was that of their coming 1
For many years Dinah Shad had
lain in the litttle burial ground.
In tho meeting house itself John
Shad worshiped on alono. Each
first-day fotind'hiin here, the silence
of the place was made audible by his
presence. Sometimes when his heart
felt thankfulness became too much for
him he stood up and spokd aloud.'
And what sermons .were those, if only
they could have been taken down!
And so ho sat on? week after week,
year after year.
Beloved by the woodlanders as man
was rarely loved, ho was left undis
turbed. A strange reverence grew up
about him; His silent testimony was
more powerful than the spoken word.
Thc lawless countryside became moro
law-abiding as his years wont on. But*
still he worshiped alone. 3t is told
how a violent wayfarer* hearing of hi3
lonely lifo, had intended to break in
and despoil his house. But, pre
viously lurking about the promises, h?
had caught sight of tho old man at
worship. He saw him, sitting silent
and still, with head thrown up, as was
his wont; and, as he described, with a
bar of sunlight across his white hair.
The man watched him for a time, then
slunk silently away aud disappeared
in the woods, leaving the weapon with
which he intended to break the house
in his fight
And a: \ais man had" seen him so I
found him ono Monday at noon-a day
after he had failed to make his wonted
appearance; He still sat on tho seat,
only a little more rigidly than usual.
There was but little change, except
that the mouth, slightly drawn, added
a hardness to the face that was hot
there in life. Curiously enough his
will was in his pocket-I afterward
learned that he always carried it in his
"first-day" coat. Subsequently tho
duty fell Upon me to read this quaint
document, but I must not disclose its
Suffice it, they Were characteristic
of tho mau-especially tho direction
that his body was to be lain in the
woods, hot in the little burial ground;
And so John Shad, the very incarna
tion of Quakerism, diodj but still out
side Of the pale .of the sect-the last
EVe^r^with the der 1 mail lying be
fore me, I remember smiling at the
incongruity of tho sporting brass but
tons as they stared mo in the face from
the high-cut, snuff-colored coat
the self-same anathema of sixty years
ago,-Boston (England) Guardian.
Fifty years ago tho allowance oj
paint in tho British navy was very
small, aud sometimes the officers had
to pay largo sums in order that their
ships might maintain a decent appear
ance. One of them resorted to a hu
morous expedient, either to soften
thc heart of the navy board, or if that
proved impossible, to express his
Sir John Phillimore painted ono
side of his old yellow' frigate black
and white, and used the rest of the
black paint in printing on the other
side, in large letters, "No moro
The navy board wrote to call his at
tention to the impropriety of his con
duct, and signed themselves, as they
did officially, "Your affectionate
To this Sir John replied that he
could not obliterate tho objectionable
letters unless ho was giveu moro
paint, and signed himself, in turn,
"Your affectionate friend, John Philli
Thc navy board then called his at
tention to the impropriety of the sig
nature, to which Sir John replied, ac
knowledging the letter, stating that
ho regretted that the paint had not
been sent, aud ending:
"I am no longer your affectionate
friend, John Phillimore."
. His frigate was allowed to retain
hor original yellow; aud perhaps the
navy board did right thus to punish
Sir John's impertinence.-Youth's
Thc Sentimental Pickpocket.
A woman in London recently had
her pocket picked, one of tho articles
being a sealed and unaddressed en
velope containing a five-pound noto.
The next day she received back the
stolen articles, with the following ex
"Dear Madame-Tho exigencies of
my profession led me just now into
possession of your purse, where I find
sixty shillings, which I appropriate to
my own needs and theso papers, which
I return to you. I do this because I
feel specially desirous to restore this
little white envelope, which I have
not been indiscreet enough to open. I
know very well that when a young
woman goes out with a little white
envelope so carefully carried in her
pocketbook that thia envelope con
tains a love lotter which she is seek
ing to address secretly to her be
loved. I will not wrong your lover by
takiug the sweet words and kisses
which you meant for him, and I am
very sorry that I have even for a short
time delayed his receiving his letter.
May you be happy, dear girl, with
him whom you have chosen aud be
lievo always in the good wishes of
your obedient servant."-New York
"Give me the man who sings at his
work!" exclaimed tho cheery oitizen.
'"Ho is tho person whose temperament
has my sympathy and approval every
"Yes," replied Mr. Blittens,- "I
don't object to the mau who sings at
his work, so long as he confines him
self to that. 'What annoys me is to
have him come in and insist on sing
ing at my work,"-Washington Star
i CARING FOR ft
MODEBN HOSPITAL SEEVIOE ON -J
The Government devotes much ?timo
to arrangements for the. comfor&aud
treatment of its wounded s ol il i erstand
the medical department of the : army
has made so many improvement in
that direction in the course of the&ast
ten or fifteen years that eomd of?tke
Burgeons who saw service in the Civil
War find a new state of affairs afc);'-'Sie
present time, During the Ciy?lVW?r
the medical corps was much smaller
than it is at present, and j aside from
the r?gulai* medical officers and hos
pital stewards, there wereiew men:in
the regiments who could be tit?li^?d
for field hospital work intime of neiod
About ten years ago tho hospital
corps was organized in tho United
States Army, and the system hasr'|reen
followed by nearly all the Nau^nal
Guard organizations, with the result
that a great hospital corps, working
under identical.rules and regulations,
exists iu tho regular and ?. cif|zen
armies, and is so well equippedjjjrad
trained that the battlo-field HsksJSave
been reduced. In the United SS?es
.\rmy there are now to every company
Df sixty men four who are d?tail?j?i as
litter-bearers. When the ?ompsf?ies;
U are larger there are moro litter-Bp
! ers, and a full company of 100 "fieri
would be entitled to eight mcneill
addition to these there aro stewards
and acting stewards and privates who
are detailed for hospital corps sen
and these men receive regular instl
tiona in first aid to the injured*
The regulations prescribe that
shall be one hospital steward at e
post, and two hospital stewards if
garrison has six companies, %nt?
for every additional six companys.
At every post of two companies thors
is an additional' acting steward, abd,
three privates are detailed fdr
pilal corps duty at every post, and
this number is increased when i
post Consists of more than two co
pauios. The stewards and act
stewards aro men who have ' so|
knowledge of pharmacy; many of tl
have been liconsed to practice as driji
gists, and the priv? tos whd are select
to act with them are always chos|
~?D CBOSS NUBSE MINISTEBING TO ONE
OF UNCLE SAM'S BOXS.
because of their general intelligence,
and even in time of peace these men,
by constant practico, attain a high
degree of proficiency in first aid to tho
"Eut the Government has gone still
further in the matter," said Colonel
Burns, the officor in charge of the
medical department at Governor's Isl
and, "aud has paved the way for a
moro extended aud complete medical
field service. The War Department
recently issued an order directing that
all first and second lieutenants shall
receive instruction in first aid to the
injurod from tho regular medical of
ficers, aud that the lieutenants, in turn,
shall devote a certaiu number of hours
every month to instructing the non
commissioned officers and privates in
first aid to the injured. By this means
AMBULANCE SHIP IN ACTION
every man becomes an assistant to the
surgeons, and a source of comfort to
his wounded comrade."
Surgeons who took their first degree
in the Civil War-say that thousand? of
men might have been saved in the.
course of that conflict if the present
system had been in vogue.
."It was not only the private," said
an Army surgeon, "who failed to re
cei vc proper attention because of inad?
quat'.' preparations and insufficient
help. General officers shared the same
fate, and died on tho battle-fields from
wounds which nuder the present .ar
rangements would not bo necessarily
fatal. A notable example was General
. R?fc . .
IE WOUNDED, i
?HE B ATTIiE -FIELD AND ?N THE ' ?|2
m SHIP? 1^
Albert Sidney Johnson, of the Con
federate Array, who was shot in the
thigh at the ba'ttlo of Pittsburg Laud
ing. His surgeon was about to attend
to him when he heard that another of
ficer, of whom he thought much, had
been wounded. Ho asked the surgeon
to minister to the other officer, and be
fore the medical man returned to the
place where Johnston was resting,
?jsurronnded by his staff officers, the
general had bled to death. There
were similar cases on every battlefield,
GREvTb'OME SCENES ON THE BATT!
and we" should see the same distress
ing scenes in this war if the medical
service had not b6eu improved."
In the National Guard commanding
officers may cause to be enlisted in
.their hospital corps or transferred to
it from companys men suitable for
such service to the number of twelve
for a regiment, eight for a battalion
or squadron and two for each signal
corps,- company of infantry or battery.
These mon form a separate and dis-'
tinct command. They .wear a badge
on tho sleeve above the elbow of
euch_ arm, whh^^g.jfleserjbiad a? . ?
the centre a Geneva' cross of red
"Drills and practioe in making and
handling litters may do much towavd
perfecting the hospital corps and fit
ting its members for actual service, "
said an army surgeon, "but it re*
quires actual field work to bring out
the true value of the organization.
Tho first aid to the injured instruc
tion has made it au easy matter for
the litter-bearers and the members of
the hospital corps to improviso litters
out of muskets and straps, pieces of
wood and strips of blankets, and the
men all know how to make bayonets,
scabbards aud shoe soles take the
place of splints until a permanent
dressing moy bo applied. The men
who render first aid are not supposed
to dress the wounds of the mon whom
they pick up and carry to the rear,
but their business is to bandage
broken limbs so that tho bones no
not chafe aud scarify the flesh, to
make the men as comfortable as pos
sible and in all cases to stop hemor
rhages. They know the auatomy of
tho human body woll enough to apply
compress bandages at the proper
places and provent tho How of blood,
and they kuow also whon and how to
administer stimulants and restora
WHEN A BATTLE IS RAGING.
"When the man has been carried to
the rear to tho field hospital the work
of tho first aid men is over, and the
patient goes into the hands of the
regular medical officers. The treat
ment is the saine as it would be in any
well-regulated hospital. Thero are
points aud features about a hospital
becauso everything is of a temporary
oharaoter, but the surgeons' kits con
tain everything necesssary for anti
septic surgery, and the temporary
operating tables aro kept as clean as
the surroundings will permit. A field
hospital may be a dismounted ambu
lance, a burn or a church or school
house, and no Bargoon eau make ar*
rangements much before he needs it
for the place where he will establish
"The object is to have the wounded
beyond the line of danger, and when
tho place has been selected, the sen
ior surgeon becomes tho commanding
officer, The tent or building ia
guarded and protected by a detach
ment of troops detailed for that pur
posc, tho hospital flag is hoisted, and
in case of" defeat and retreat the
wounded are moved under cover of a
guard in ambulances to a place of
The pouches carried hythe hospital
corps orderlies contain crossed-bar
wire for splints, four roller bandages,
six .gauze packages, four first-aid
packages, ono iodoform sprinkler, one
Esmaroh tourniquet for arresting
hemorrhages, half an ounce of carbol
ized vaseline in a tube, two ounces of
^-FIELDS AND IN THE HOSPITALS.
ammonia in a glass bottlo in a leather
'case, two ounces of plain gauze, one
ounce of lint, one irrigator, one bottle
of ligatures, one pair scissors, one for
ceps and needle-holder, one diagnosis,
book, one case of pins and needles,
three ounces of chloroform in a glass
bottle in a leather case, half a yard of
wire gauze for splints, one hypo
dermic syringe, with tablets aa da
small medical case containing tablets
of acetanilid, camphor and opium,
quinine, cathartic compound and anti
^TJie [hospital corps pouches c?ni??L
irisen- ?^wt?einr?ntnt^-tT, '"IT? u- j ?nu* oi
gauze, one ounce of absorbent lint,
one iodoform sprinkler, one tourni
quet, one-half cunee carbonized vase
line, ono spool of rubber plaster, one
pair of scissors, one jackknife, two
ounces of ammonia, one case of pins
and needles and four first aid pack
Tho regulations provide that cor
porals and privates of the hospital
corps shall, in active service, carry a
canteen of water, a knife of approved
pattern and the hospital corps
The handling of wounded on ships
of war is a 'ect which is engross
ing the attej >nof the naval author
ities of tho d. The vessels util
ized for tili rvico must be swift
AN AKMY AMBULANCE IN CUBA.
steamers of fairly good capacity so far
as room for tho sick is concerned, and
yet not of too large Bize to prevent
quick turning and darting around and
*mong a fleet of vessels. The treat
ment of tho crow of such a craft is
precisely that accorded the Bed Cross
Brigade. It is an unwritten law of
every civilized nation that a wounded
man and the man who aids him are
both to be protected.
A difficulty that has been carefully
considered lies in the removal of the
wounded from the cruiser's decks to
tho3o of . the ambulance ship. It is
believed, however, that this difficulty
has been surmounted by an arrange
ment that is as admirable as it is sim
ple. It merely oonsists in placing
the injured man on a mattress in a
hammock, lushing him to the ham
mock, and then by means of safety
hooks attached to the end of a stretch
er-bar to tho bout from the ambulance
ship, which lies alongside. This
action can be performed, unassisted,
by two men, so far as transporting
the injured man .from the place where
he falls to tho boat's crew is con?
Fire Crackers In China.
The use of fire crackers is universal
in China, and has been so as far baok
as history records. It is most prob
able that in the beginning they were
used to frighten away evil spirits.
Now they aro most frequently an ex
pression of good feeling or of ceremon
ious compliment. They are used at
weddings, births and funerals; at fes
tivals; religious, oivil and military
ceremonies; at New Year; to salute
persons about to make a journey; and,
in faot, on all occasions out of the
An Expensive Tomb.
Tho finest tomb in Great Britain is
undoubtedly that of the Duke of Ham
ilton, in the grounds of the Duke's
seat. It cost over ?1,000,000.
Moro than forty per cent, of the
British people could nof. write their
names when the Queen ascended
the throne. The proportion in that
condition has now been reduced to
Bevea per ceut.
HOW TO FURNISH A VERANDA.
a. Pleasant "Warm-Weather Boom For
Every year the veranda is becoming
more and mere an integral part of the
house beautiful. It is no* longer
merely a shelter from the elements,
sparsely furnished with chairs, but ie
a living room and treated as such, and
is furnished with the same taste and
care that are bestowed upon the rest
of the rooms. Of course, it goea
without saying that both the textile
and furniture employed must be as far
as possible weather-proof, but this is
no handicap nowadays, as rugs and
materials that defy rain and snow are
to be had in the greatest variety-ex
cept directly on the seashore, where
the dampness and high winds make it
impossible. An outdoor room, netted
in so that the lights at night will not
attract troublesome insects, prettily
and comfortably furnished, should be
a part of every country hous?. Cur
tains made of colored awning cloth and
hung with small brass rings on a
slender galvanized iron rod, so that
they may easily be pushed forward
'and back, are both useful and pretty,
although some people prefer Vene
tian blinds or the rattan shades, which
now come for verandas of any width
desired. Hammocks, o? course, are
tho natural lounging places for a ver
anda room, but they are now made
^uch more elaborately than formerly,
with valances hanging on either side,
and'piled up with cushions of many
The accompanying sketch shows
one which filled a corner of the ver
anda of a seaside cottage last summer.
The shape is an irregular elongated
triangle, with two sides against the j
walls of the house, and consists of a
frame a foot high, on which is a mat
tress covered with India rubber oloth.
Over this is a buttoned covering c*
green denim, with, a flounce, and the .
drapery consists of an old sail and.a
fish-net, which is held up by a pair of
oars and a - crab-net, all of which
have been well-seasoned by wind*and
Tho Yoanjrest Captain.
CAPTAIN E. HOSS SMITH,
Of "Washington, Ind.
I volunteer arm). He is nineteen years
! of age, and a son of Captain S. M.
! Smith, a veteran of the Civil War.
' A Bich Vonni; Soldier. Shoeing Horses.
The fighting of those New York
swells near Santiago brings to mind
the case of a prominent young Cleve
lander, who at tho time the first
? call for men was made, came home to
join the cavalry troop of this city and
go to war.
His parents are wealthy, and he has
always held a prominent position
i socially when at home, but when a
show of patriotism was called for he
was not the last to be heard from.
At school and college he went in for
! manual training, and learned black
I smithing. Now, what do you suppose
j he is doing at the present time? Wiri
I nihg glory on the field of battle? Gal
I loping over hills and through dales,
I bearing dispatches from one com
mander to another? No! He is shoe
: ing horses at Chickamauga! And he
i isn't complaining, either,
j "Somebody must do this," he writes,
I "and if I eau bo most useful to my
; country in this way, why I shall be
i satisfied. When I enlisted it was for
1 the purpose of doing my best to win
I glory for the ??tars and Stripes, in any
way that might be assigned to me.
But there are ' many more pleasant
things than working over an anvil in
this climate."-Cleveland Leader.
IScutcii at His Own Game.
Mr. Drake-"About this race of
ours; I'll f elect the course and you
select the time."
Mr. Drake (triumphantly)-"Then
we'll race across the river. I don't
think you'll cut muon of a figure with
me over that course."
Mr. Rooster-"Oh, I don't know.
I'll select December. I don't think
you'll cut much ice with me at that
COLUMBIA PUTS HER GLITTERING
Columbia puts ber glittering armor on!.
Not boasting In hor might
KM for mean conquest-not to make dis
Of her fine powers-not, by her proud
To threaten and affront the walting
Nor 11 mere savage lust for war's delight
Is her unsullied banner now unfurled;
u Bat to set right
The base and treacherous wrongs, too long
And that the world henceforth, shall be
Her children's blood may not be lightly
It is her blood that cries!
To armor, now, that cry, ber comely head
Is Alloted with steel-her lips, firm-pressed,
And from her leveled eyes,
- The dangerous light
Of battle plays beneath her pallid brow,
Like lightnings from a summer cloud at
As, with pained heart, fierce-swelling in
lier gleaming sword ls drawn, ,
To answer that cry now,.
Columbia puts her glittering armor on.
-Robert Burns Wilson, In Ainslee's Maga
PITH AND POINT.
"How did you get on at the police
court?" "Fine!"-Scraps. .
Auntie-"When I was your age I
never told a lie, Tommy." Tommy
"When did you begin, auntie?"
"My wife," said Tangle, "is st
mind reader." "Pity, my lot," said
Jangle, "my rif?is a mind speaker."
Optician-"Yes; you see double. I
can correct the fault with spectacles."
Patient-"Hurry! Maybe it isn't
twins, after all."-Jewelers' Weekly.
Her Father-"Have you heard my
daughter sing, young man?" Edwin
(nervously)-"Ye-es, sir; but in spite
of that I-I should like to have Her,
sir. "-Ally Sloper.
"Is Jack seeing much service at
the front?" "I judge so from the
fact that in every letter home he
speaks of being awfully hard pressed."
-New York Tribune.
"I always test my poems by read
ing thom to my wife," said the'youth
ful poet.. "I should think that was
testing your wife," answered the can
did friend.-Chicago Evening Post. :
Doctor- -"Well, Pat, have you taken
that box of pills I sent you?" Pat
"Yes,- sur, be jabers, I have, but I
don't feel any better. Maybe the lid
hasn't come off yet."-Boston Travel
Miss Scott-'Tes; she has been
saying all manner of wicked things
about me." Friend-'Ton should not
heed her, dear. She merely repeats
what other people say."-Chirrent
Bill-"Do you consider amethysts
unlucky?" Jill-"I should say.so! I
had a collar button once with-one in
In Earnest.-"Do you think their
engagement really: mea?s . anything?"
"She says it means inore tandem
rides and ice cream than the last one
she managed, or it will be broken off."
"The dootor would like to see you
inside," said the maid to the caller
who was waiting in the reception
room. "Not much!" said the startled
patient; "he can't try any X-ray on
Hiinleigh-"Do you enjoy bicy
cling?" Foote-"Can't say that I do;
but Mien the only experience I have_
had is in being run into. Perhaps if ?
ahould learn to ride I might enjoy it
"He's a man of large calibre," re
marked Jones to Brown, speaking of
an acquaintance. "Inde?d," was the
reply; "how do you make that out?"
"He's a great bore."' "Oh!" naur
mured Brown, and fainted away.
Professor (discussing organic and
inorganic kingdoms)-"Now, if I
3honld shut my eyes-so-and drop
my head-so-and remain perfectly
still, you would say I was a clod. But
J move, I leap. Then what do you
call me7" Voice From Bear-"A
Genealogy on & Turtle's Shell.
James Barton, of Conklin,N. Y.,has
unearthed on his farm a turtle which,
in its way, is a family heirloom. Mr.
Barton was plowing recently when the
turtle was brought to light. On its
shell was inscribed "Ashabel Hast
ings, July 14, 1824, Joel Barton, June
16, 1863." Ashabel Hastings was
James Barton's grandfather, and Joel
Hastings his father. A short distance
from the field is a road where, while
Ashabel Hastings was yet living, the
turtle was found and marked bj Joel
Barton. Ashabei said that at the time
of its first capture it was apparently
old. It is thought the turtle is more
than a hundred. James Barton in
scribed his name on the shell and set
it free, to bear the record to future
generations.-New York Press.
Music and Reptiles.
Tarantulas do not dance to the
sound of the violin, but let the people
they bite do the dancing;, scorpions,
however, enjoy fiddling, according to
the Quarterly Review, and lizards go
crazy for music of any kind. As for
serpents, the boa constrictor and py
thon are senseless to melody, but the
cobra is fascinated by the flute and
still more by the fiddle. Polar bears
enjoy the violin; so do ostriches;
wolves will stop in the chase to listen
to a cornet; elephants are fond of the
flute, especially the upper notes;
.tigers, while appreciating violin ?hd
flute, cannot stand the harmonium,
while the musical seal shows no emo
tion on hearing any instrument, not
aven the bass drum.
Patriotic Dutch Horticulture.
In view of the coronation festivities
which will take place at the end of
August and the commencement of Sep
tember next, the Dutch florists are ex
erting themselves to grow red, white
and blue, and, in particular, orange
colored flowers, with which to adorn
their country on tho great occasion.
The montbretias furnish beautiful
orange flowers, with which the royal
crown and initials are traced against
the blaok mould; and there is a new
orange rose which, at the suggestion
of the Grand Duke of Luxemburg,
has been given the English title of
"Sweet Little Queen of Holland"-a
very pretty and welcome "idea.-Lon