Newspaper Page Text
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VOL. X, LAKE PROVIDENCE, EAST CARROLL PARISH, LA., SATURDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1897. NO. 28.
THE OLD HOMESTEAD.
Its worn-out acres fallow lie,
Unpruned the orchard stands
For they who tended them long since
Have gone to other lands
One to the prairies of the West,
And one across the sea;
The rest have reached that blessed Country
Where partings may not be.
The elm boughs tap the skylight dim
As in the days agone,
They tapped to waken merrily
The little folk at dawn.
The woodbine curtains tenderly
The shattered window pane,
Yet grants admittance to its friends,
The sunshine and the rain.
No step, no whisper, breaks the hush.
But histl A sweep of wings
Athwart the attic's dreaming dusk,
And tender twitteringsl
A tenant for the empty nest?
See-from the window ledge
A phoebe bird calls to its mate
Upon the cradle's edge!
And in the cradle, vacant long,
Four downy fledgelings peep
And cuddle close. They'll dream of wings
And twitter in their sleep
All through the quiet summer night;
While on the dingy wall
Flit silently the thin, weird shapes
That come at moonlight's call.
O, life and love that were of yore!
0, sad old house bereft!
To thee but memory's treasured store
And the little birds are left.
One of thine own is in the West,
And one across the foam;
The rest are in that fairest Land
Of Home, Sweet Home.
-Minnie Leona Upton, in Zion's Herald.
IN THI FOG.
BY AnBIE F. BROWN.
HE fog is coming
in very thick,
Sally. I am glad
that Thacher con
. cluded to come in
the steamer after
all. It is not safe
. for anyone but an
' old sailor to come
alone in a sailboat
even in clear
"No, he was crazy to think of it.
I suppose he will try his best to
drown me, too, before the next two
weeks are over," Sally spoke languidly
from the Bangor chair where she
swung on the west piazza.
"Sally Belmont! Don't say such
awful things, it is tempting Provi
dence!" rejoined her mother, reprov
ingly, as she adjusted the field glasses
and swept the western stretch of
Penobscot Bay. "Ah, here comes the
steamer now," she said suddenly,
sighting a dark speck piercing the
mists between them and the Camden
Hills. Sallie remained impassive.
Her mother glanced at her keenly.
"You will go down to meet him, of
course? Why, Sallie, you haven't
even put on a pretty dress! What a
Sallie glanced down at her plain
yachting rig carelessly. "Yes, I sup
pose I shall go," she said wearily.
"This is such a gossip box. But there
is plenty of time."
Mrs. Belmont looked doubtfully at
her daughter for a moment, then
sighed and went into the house. She
could not understand these moods at
all. She had not acted like this when
she had been a girl-and engaged.
Sallie remained in the Bangor chair
idly swinging herself by the edge of a
rustic table to which her fingers clung.
Her eyes strayed restlessly over the
scene spread before the broad piazza
-the fog rolling heaving in from the
east, almost hiding the opposite shore
of the narrow Reach; the lighthouse,
the vague outlines of Cape Rosier to
the west, and a misty purple blue
where she knew were the Camden
HIills beyond. Then they restedques
tioningly on the ldark speck which had
drawn nearer now.
Was there ever another girl who felt
I'ke this? she wondered. She felt no
joy, no anticipation, no flutter of ex
citement. And yet she had not seen
Thacher for three whole months. In
deed, her keenest feeling was one of
resentment at this intrusion upon the
quiet and solitariness of her retreat.
Yet she knew that the other girls on
this desert isle,-No-Man's Land, as
they ruefully termed it,-were at this
moment gathering eagerly on the slip
to see whom the steamer might bring,
and were envying her 'the personal
pIroperty destined for Sunnycroft
Cottage. Sally sighed wearily; and
frownedfat the black spot now assum
ing more definite shape. This was
what it was to be engaged at a summer
The steamer rounded the point and
came slowly up to the landing,as Sally
sauntered out upon the slip with the
eyes of the assembled cottagers upon
her. The fog rolling in made the
faces indistinct, but it seemed evident
that Thacher was not among the arri
vals. The steamer moved slowly away
again; Thacher had certainly not come.
Yet it was with no other feeling than
a throb of resentment at being thus
needlessly drawn from the comfort of
her piazza that Sully turned upon her
heel and proceeded to the postofice to
await the distribution of the mail.
But as she thought more of the mat
ter, it did seem very queer that
Thacher had not come. She wondered
why,as she waited for the letter which
she felt sure would tell her, and when
at last it seas handed to her in his
familiar writing, she thrust it sullenly
into her pocket and went out.
"Fog's gittin' mighty thiok, Miss
Sally," said old Cap'n Winters, while
she stood deliberating as to where she
should go next. "Hope your young
man ain't comin' in a sailboat after all.
I cal'late no stranger ought to pilot a
boat round these ledges with a first
o!ss5 Bar Harbor fog on, And that's
whatit is, sure enough."
"'Oh, I think Mr. ~Xning wil
probably come on the. next steamer."
she answered, carelessly, and walked
slowly away towards the cottage, with
a feeling of disgust, knowing that,
like the captain, every one was prob
ably wondering and speculating over
the non-appearance of her "young
"What was the use of having a
young man anyway?--especially if he
could not abide by his own plans, and
must needs change his mind half a
dozen times a week," thought Sally,
as she read his brief note, explaining
that he would sail over in the Nautilus
after all, having met a friend in Rock
land whom he must see on business.
He promised, however, to reach No
Man's Land before dark that night.
Sally sniffed pettishly. He needn't
think she cared. He needn't come at
all so far as she was concerned. In
deed, if he couldn't come at the time
he had first set he might as well not
come at all.
Sally wandered aimlessly along the
cliff to her favorite shelf in the rock,
and there she sat down to think. She
had spent many hours there during
the past three months, and there she
had worked herself up into her present
state of gloomy dissatisfaction and
restlessness. She had been very
lonely here on the Island, with no
intimate friends and few acquaintances
among the summer contingent whom
she found congenial or likely to be
The summer had dragged wearily
for her, filled with embroidery which
she loathed and idleness which always
disagreed with her. Sally was a de
votee of athletic sports, but just be
fore her departure for No-Man's Land,
a badly-sprained ankle had forced her
to a summer of laziness and lounging,
instead of the exercise which she
Moreover, Thacher was not much of
a letter writer, and his epistles had
been a poor substitute for his own
breezy and magnetic presence. Their
acquaintance had been short, their en
gagement following hard upon their
first meeting and "love at sight."
Thacher had exerted a powerful influ
ence over her from the first. But
now, less than a year after their first
meeting, three months of which had
been spent away from him, Sally
looked upon their engagement with
very different feelings. She was lone
ly, bored, tired and miserable; piqued
at Thacher's apparent carelessness.
She hardly knew what she did want,
but she was very sure that it was not
Sitting there on the shelf above the
breakers, with the fog rolling in thick
around her so that she could barely
see the rocks wet with spray, twenty
feet below, she felt utterly dissatisfied
with herself and her engagement. For
the five-hundreth time she rehearsed
the arguments against breaking off an
engagement which she was now sure
had been a nristake. She knew that
she would be blamed-the girl always
is in such cases. She dreaded her
mother's disapproval and Thacher's
anger and grief-though, perhaps,
after all, she thought, that would not
be so keen. She tore a spray of the
harebells with the joint of the umbrella
as she meditated.
The date for the wedding was indeed
fixed, but known only to the two fam
ilies. After all, the reasons against
the step seemed weak and trivial in
deed when set over against the utter
wretchedness of the past three months
-the doubt, the worry and self-distrust.
It was certainly not fair to Thacher.
It was most unfair to her, who could
be so happy with the right man, and
who could make him, too, so happy.
A large tear fell from Sally's eyes, but
she brushed it impatiently away, and,
jumping up, strode hastily along the
path toward home. Her mind was
made up. The engagement should be
broken. She would speak to Thacher
about it that very night.
The afternoon wore slowly away,
the fog lowering heavier and heavier,
and finally settling down with a dense
mist to render the blackness more
gloomy. But Sally's heart seemed
easier now that she had resolved on
the proper course; though she inward
ly trembled at the thought of the in
terview with Thacher, and the appa
rently capricious reason she must
assign for her action.
She was sitting in the cottage par
lor after tea, reading a novel, and
vaguely wondering why Thacher had
not come before dark as he had prom
ised, when her mother came in hur
"Sally, dear-I am quite worried
about Thacher's boat. It hasn't come
yet, and Captain Winters says that he
wouldn't sail from Rockland to-night
for a thousand dollars."
Sally made no reply. Her heart
was strangely hard this evening. In
any case she was not one easily to be
worried over a trifle. Mrs. Belmont,
however, was very anxious, and bus
tled nervously about the little room,
until a heavy step on the piazza made
her gasp with relief, and run hastily
to meet her prospective son-in-law.
It was not Thacher's cheery young
face that greeted her in the doorway,
but old Captain Winters' anxious
weather-beaten one. He beckoned
her outside clumsily.
"Bad news for ye, Mis' Belmont,"
he muttered hoarsely, with a warning
gesture toward Sally, who, however,
heard every word. "Cap'n Seaworth
has jus' got in through the fog from
Castine. 'N he's towed 'long the ten
der of the Nautilus-found her empty
an' knockin' on the rocks off Cape
Rosier. He says he cal'lates the
Nautilus must have got on the rocks
and been broke up. We can't do
nothin' 'bout it to-night, an' I reckon
it ain't no use anyhow."
Sallie heard no more. Dazed and
still she sat by the table, her fingers
still marking the place in her book.
Thacher was not coming then, after
all. He would never come any more.
Her engagement was "off" definitely,
sa4 with no words or trouble ibetween
them. She hardly realized yet the
full significance of her release.
Mrs. Belmont, coming in and seeing
at.a glance that Sally had heard the
news, was wild with expressions of
grief and despair. Sallie, however,
did not shed a tear and spoke never a
word, but sat silent and rigid; till, in
despair at her apparent calmness, hei
mother left her to herself and went
out to see if anything could be done.
Left alone in the cottage, Sally re
mained quiet for awhile, then a ner
vous trembling seized her, a desire to
be outdoors in the fog and blackness.
And snatching up a waterproof, she
threw it over her shoulders and rushed
out, along the cliff, slippery now with
mist and rain, tracing the path to
her own nook of, the afternoon.
There she sat down again and
thought, reviewing all the past; het
meeting with Thacher, the first happy
days of their engagement, the weeks
of his kindness and forbearance, of
her whims and caprices, his tender
ness at the time of her acci
dent, and his sorrow at being
obliged to remain when she
went away for the summer. Then
she recalled the weeks of her mor
bid sulkiness, and lastly, with a throb,
the final injustice of her anger with
him that morning, her selfish resolu
tion to break the engagement-and
this her punishment. With a sob she
threw herself on the wet ground, and
with her lips pressed hard. on her en
gagement ring, buried her head in the
folds of the waterpoof fallen upon the
shelf of rock.
How long she remained there she
never knew, but it seemed hours of
black horror, of utter self-abasement
and contrition. At last she felt a hand
aid softly on her head, and an eager,
tender voice spoke low in her ear
"Sally! Sally, dear! Did you think
I was never coming?"
For a moment it seemed too good to
be true; then with a faint cry, she let
him draw her up, trembling and weak
"Dear heart, your mother said I
should probably find you here. I hur
ried as fast as I could-the Nautilus
was not wrecked after all-only lost
the tender when we capsized. There,
there, little girl! Did you really care
so much, Sally?"
The fingers of her disengaged left
hand closed tightly over the ring it
wore, and her eyes were wet, and she
whispered with trembling lips
"Oh, Thacher-did I care? It was
the fog in my heart-I couldn't see-]
didn't know how much I cared!"-The
The Spider As a Manufacturer.
M. Cachot is a Frenchman who has
solved the problem of utilizing the
web of the spider by turning it into
silk of a beautiful and fairy fineness.
A delicate little machine containing a
number of tiny bobbins is made to re
volve continuously by a light-running
gear. The end of the web is caught
while it is still attached to the spider,
and the little machine is set in motion.
The spider does not seem to mind hav
ing its web pulled off, and the move
ment is continued until the spider has
completely surrendered its shining
structure. It is then released, put
aside and fed until it has recuperated
its powers, and a fresh spider attached
to the gear. M. Cachot intends es
tablishing a large factory near Paris,
and is advertising in the French papers
for large quantities of spiders.
The thread of the silkworm is said
to be one-thousandth of an inch in di
The Youngest Private Secretary.
"Probably the youngest private sec
retary ever entered on the records of
the Department of State in Washing
ton," says the Philadelphia Times,
"is little Ye We-Chong, the only son
of the Minister from Corea. This
secretary is only nine years old, and a
year ago did not know a word of Eng
lish, but is now beginning to speak
and write in this language, of which
he has a greater control than his
father. He is quick and bright and
eager to learn, has adopted the Ameri
can style of dress, and is fast picking
up the ways of young Americans."
Flufy Maine Coon Cats.
Cat-loving visitors to Maine are sure
to bring back to their homes in other
States the pretty, fluffy, little coon
cats for which Maine has a reputation.
Some of these animals in their normal
condition are very little different in
appearance from the ordinary cat, but
in the presence of her enemy, the dog,
all the long, soft hair of Miss Kitty
Coon stands on end, and she swells
visibly until she has a barrel-like ap
pearance. A bandbox with air holes,
if seen on a Maine train, is-almost sure
to be the traveling home of one of
Maine's feline products.
Food of Mountain Climbers.
Professor Tyndall used to say that
his Alpine guides ate butter andhoney
while climbing, as finding that they
supplied the greatest amount of heat
and nourishment. He himself nibbled
a cake of chocolate every two houre
while on the mountains. These facts
supply hints to tourists everywhere.
Nowadays, one may easily, too, carry
soup-squares, or tea-tablets, to be
readily made into a refreshing drink
with the addition of hot water.
Queen Victoria, it is said, has trav
eled more miles than any other Euro
pean ruler. Since 1842, the year she
first entered a railway carriage, her
record, according to an English an.
thority,is 2,000,000 miles. The Prince
of Wales has about 1,500,000 miles to
Sign of the Table Tools.
Railway stations in Sweden where
you can procure hot luncheons are
known by a peculiar sign bearing the
suggestive emblem of a crossed
knife and fork.
FIELDS OF ADVENTURE.
rHRILLING INCIDENTS AND DARING
DEEDS ON LAND AND SEA.
& -eput. Sheriff, Unknown to Paune,
WVho Broke Up a Gang of Stage Rob
bers in Five Minutes-Charged the
Federal Troops With a Frying Pan.
"I was one of four passengers on
;he eastward-bound stage that left Sil
ver City, N. M., at 5 o'clock in the af
;ernoon," said E. S. Kirkbridge, who
.ormerly traveled for a St. Louis firm
.n the Southwestern Territories. "The
stage was a three-seated buckboard,
with four mules ahead, and besides
the passengers it carried the United
states mail and the overland express
packages. A trip on the overland
through New Mexico in those days-it
was 1877-was apt to prove a little
;rying to a man of quiet tastes, for the
Apaches always were liable to be ly
ing in wait for a stage,and road agents
were unusually industrious that year.
In fact there seemed to be an epidemic
)f stage robbing rabout this time, for
:n the last five weeks the stages had
oeen held up five times between Silver
aity and Mesilla, and the company
was at its wits' end to find how to put
Sstop to the business. The Sheriffs
>f Graut,Dona Ana and El Paso Coun
,ies had done their best to trace up
-obbers, but, although they felt cer
;ain that all the hold-ups were the
work of one gang, led by Tom MoGuff,
;hey could not catch the road agents
'ed-handed or find sufficient evidence
mn which to arrest any of the suspected
"We were talking about these things
mn the stage in the first two hours of
,he trip. While daylight lasted, as we
ipun along in the fresh exhilarating
sir, with the mules unravelling eight
tr ten miles of the smooth trail every
oour, the ideas of these3dangers were
.nteresting rather than unpleasant, for
hey seemed far away. But as night
shut down, closing around us, we be
,an to think of road agents and Apaches
In another light. In the darkness the
aeezquite clumps and cactuses took on
!ueer and uncertain shapes,and seemed
to move with life as we passed them.
We had been pretty talkative,but now
-very man kept his thoughts to him
ielf, and the only voice raised was that
)f the driver as he swore at the mules.
It was a relief the few minutes we
itopped at the Apacheho Station to
Shange mules, and most of us got off
;he buckboard there to stretch our
egs. Then we were off again with
jook's canon between us and the next
station at Fort Cummings.
"None of us liked the looks or be
havior of the man who got in the
stage at Apacheho. He was of medium
height, strongly built and deliberate
of movement. So much of his face as
:ould be seen under the wide brim of
his sombrero showed a straight, rather
prominent nose, a mustache above
itraight, thin lips, and a'resolute jaw.
Without speaking, he had the air of
Being master of the situation, and this
effect was helped out by the bulge in
his coat at each hip in the place where
pistols usually are carried. He
,limbed into the buckboard at the sta
;ion and without a word took the front
neat kbeside the driver. When the
passenger who had occupied that seat
:ame back and ventured to remon
itrate, the stranger gave him one look
which ended the matter, and the pas
ienger meekly took a rear seat. The
iriver evidently did not know the man,
mnd it was equally clear that he judged
aim to be a person arde to be let alone.
rhere was very lit;e companionship
,r confidence in the company as the
nules bowled us along toward Cook's
"Cook's Canon has had the worst
iame of all localities in New Mexico
!or Indian massacres, and robberies
"nd murders. by white outlaws, and
these things were going right on in
1877. The moon had risen when the
buckboard passed into the canon. but
the steep rock walls shut out the light,
leaving the trail mostly in darkness.
'he driver gathered up the reins
tightly in hand and put the mules to a
smart pace, and we all felt what a re
lief it would be to draw up safe at
F'ort Cummings, at the other end of
:he canon. The stranger beside the
iriver on the front seat seemed to be
esleep. As he sat leaning a little for
ward his head was sunk between his
ehoulders so that only his hat and
back could be seen from behind.
"Well, the hold-up came, sure
enough. The mules had slowed their
pace as they took a stretch of steep
ap-grade. They were half way to the
top when the call 'Halt! Hands up,
averybody!' came stern and sudden
from just ahead on the right, and I
saw opposite the off wheel mule a man
who had appeared in the darkness; he
wore a black cloth mask, and the
shotgun he carried was leveled at
the driver's head.
"The driver braced back on the
lines enough to check the mules. Fol
lowing the order to halt two pistol
ihots rang sharply from the front seat
ef the buckboard, and the masked
robber went backward to the ground
and lay still with his gun fallen across
him, while another mai, whom I had
not seen before, fell across the trail in
front of the lead mules. The shots
had come from the strange passenger,
who, with the second crack of the pis
tol, jumped to the ground, leaped past
the men fallen in the roadway, and
lashed into the darkness up the trail
ahead. In a few seconds more-they
were long seconds to us on the buck
board-there rang down the canon the
sound of a revolver shot, then another,
then three or four almost together.
There came a last single shot, and
then all was silent.
"We got oet of the buckboard as
soon as the driver could calm the
mules down a little-they were wild
with fear over the shooting and the
robbers in the road-and every man
who carried a pistol got it out and felt
brave, or pretended it, At lest we
heard footsteps coming Xoward us down
the trail, and the stranger appeared
from the darkness with two men march
ing before him, one limping along and
the other supporting his left arm with
his right hand as he walked.
"'Have any of you gentlemen a gun?'
the stranger asked politely, with a lit
tle ring of command beneath his suave
tone. He had been fighting, remem
ber. 'Ah, that's well! Will you kind.
ly stand guard over these two men
while I take a look at the men in the
"Standing guard over the two men,
one with his arm broken by a ball and
the other with a bullet through his
thigh, I saw him take the mask from
the face gf the robber with the gun.
He called the driver to him as he light
ed a match and they looked at the
dead man's face. 'Do you know him?'
"'Know him! I should say I did,'
said the driver. 'It's Tom MoGuff.
He has held me up twice before, but
he stopped the stage once too often.'
"They looked at the other man who
had fallen at the head of the mules.
The driver did not recognize him.
They laid the dead men by the side of
the trail to lie until a wagon could be
sent for them; then the two prisoners
were placed on a seat in front of the
stranger where he might keep watch
of them, the rest of us sat where we
could, and so we drove to Fort Cum
mings. There the stranger stopped
with his prisoners waiting to take the
return stage to Silver City. Before
we started on he told us his name.
"'It's Chiflield. Henry Chiflield,
of Corazon County, Texas. I'm a
deputy sheriff there, but I do some de
tective work for stage lines and rail
roads. Am happy to have met you,
"This was all the information I ever
got about Deputy Sheriff Henry Chif
field, one of the type of quiet, resolute
men, handy with the gun, who are not
heard of outside of the localities where
they live and are glad to shln the no
toriety of desperadoes. The stage
company had heard of him and sent
for him, and the fact that he was un
known to people along the line made
him the man to hunt down the stage
robbers, which he did after his own
fashion. With its leader and one man
killed, and two men booked for the
penitentiary, the Tom McGuff gang
was not heard of again, and the stages
east of Silver City made their trips in
peace for many months that followed."
Charged the Federals With a Frying Pan.
It was at Bloody Bend, near Spot
tsylvania, that a most amusing and
at the same time most intrepid actwas
credited to the record of Lieutenant
C. W. Motes, of the Troup Artillery,
who for several years was a popular
citizen of Athens, and who is now the
leading photographer of Atlanta.
The Confederate forces were behind
a small breastwork and the Federal
forces were preparing for a charge.
The Troup Artillery were stationed
near a blackjack swamp, and a little
further down the line Maxey's Texas
brigade had been stationed.
Suddenly the Federals charged the
Texas brigade. The fight was furious;
the brave Texans drove back the
enemy time and time again. During
one of these charges General Maxey
for some reason had gone to the rear
for a few moments, and when the blue
and gray columns met the Texans
wavered and fell back, and the Yan
kees swarmed over the breastworks
and into the trenches.
Just as this happened a few mem
bers of the Troup Artillery were sitting
around a little fire frying a piece of
fat bacon. The grease was sputtering
in the frying pan and the soldiers were
smacking their mouths in anticipation
of the great repast in store for them.
Among the crowd was Lieutenant C.
As the Yankees came over the
breastworks the gun of the Troup
Artillery nearest to them was wheeled
around and in a few moments the line
of blue soldiers was being swept by a
Lieutenant Motes sprang up and
dashed down to where the Texans were
fighting. He carried with him the
trying pan full of hot grease. As he
reached the scene of combat he put
himself in front of the Texas brigade
and waving the frying pan over his
head, led the charge. The Yankees
were driven back in a few moments.
General Maxey returned about that
time and congratulated Lieutenant
Motes on his bravery. Motes pres
ented a rare appearance just then. The
grease was all over his face and clothes,
and being hot had blistered the skin
wherever it touched. He still had
hold of the old frying pan which had
served him so well in the charge.
Athens (Ga.) Banner.
Wind sm a Soure of Power.
In a study of the possibilities of
wind as a source of power, M. Maxi
milian Plesseur has reached the con
clusion that the old windmill and the
aeolian wheel are not suitable motors,
but that this energy can best be utilized
by means of vehicles driven by sails
on circular railways, the sails to be
kept trimmed automatically, and the
power to be transmittedto an axle and
thence to machinery. Where the wind
is fairly constant such an apparatus,
especially if used to drive dynamos
and charge electrical ascumulators,
should prove serviceable and economi
cal. A similar arrangement could be
established on water, boats being used
instead of cars, and the power-of
which considerable could be kept in
reserve-could be transmitted to a
Graves of the Zules.
The most curiously deeorated graves
in the world are the natives' graves in
Zululand. Some of these mounds are
garnished with the bottles of medicine
used by the departed in their Anal ill
ness, and the tlnration of the malady
is guessed by the number of bottle,
THE GEORGIA iHUMORIST
SOME FURTHER REMARKS ON THE SUB
JECT OF "HARD WOOD."
The Philosopher Answers a Critie--Sustalas
His Contentions by euotations from Dr.
Poreher's Book on Trees -.- Other Inter.
Somehow I don't like insinuations.
& correspondent from Mississippi in
sinuates that I don't know very much
about blackgnm and sassafras and per
simmon, or I wouldn't say that those
woods were good for hubs and bows
and gluts. Well,since I saw his "obiter
dicta" in your paper, I asked the fore
man of our wagon factory, and he
said: "We nesed to get all the black
gum we could for hubt, for it has no
grain, and you can't split it, and it
makes a very fine hub, but nowadays
we buy all our hubs ready made, and b
they are of postoak." Dr. Porcher, a
who is the highest authority concern- b
the trees and herbs of the south, says
in his book: "The wood of blackgum e
is extremely difficult to split, and is I
much used for hubs of wheels."
The first real fine stringbow I ever c
had was bought from an Indian boy,
and it was made of the heart of sassa- r
fras. He taught me how to fasten the d
feathers in the arrows. That bow was n
the envy of my schoolmates and could i
send an arrow out of sight.
A dead persimmon, or one cut down
and seasoned, makes a very hard, dur
able glut or wedge. Dr. Porcher says
that the grain is of such fine texture
that he has used it for engraving. I
used to saw my gluts and then bevel
the edges, and round the top, and my
boy Bob said "dem simmon gluts beat
dogwood all to pieces."
This is a wonderful book of Dr Por
cher's-a book of 700pages,containing
a description of every tree, plant and
shrub in our southern land, and their
practical and medicinal uses. It was
published in 1869, and it's title is,
"Resources of the Southern Fields
and Forests." What patient and care
ful investigation was necessary to pro
duce such a book! Twelve years ware
spent in the work, and the learned
doctor became a second Linneus in his
devotion to it. And yet this book is
hard to find, and I suppose is out of
And now the time has come for me
to put away the flowers and there's
trouble on the old man's mind. I have
cleaned out the pit and arranged the
shelves to my wife's satisfaction, and
am now engaged in taking up the t
geraniums and repotting the various i
plants. I have to go away down to the
lower part of the cow lot, where the .
rich earth has gathered, and spade it
up and sift it into the wheelbarrow and
roll it up the hill like Ajax or Samp
son. My wife has a great big round
sifter like the plasterers use, and after
I get a load of earth and turn it out
in the broad walk near the pit, then I
have to haul a load of sand and sift
that, and then a load of wood ashes
and sift that, and then mix all to
gether. She told me how. She watches
me from the window, where she is
sewing, and encourages me by telling
me not to work so hard, but to stop
and rest awhile. Yesterday she came
out to help me, and when she wanted
me to change the palm to a larger pot,
and the heliotrope to a smaller one, I
rebelled a little and asked her if she
had noticed that yaller jacket's nest
under the stone step, not far from
where she was standing. The little
boogers were just pouring out and in,
and as soon as she saw them she shook
her skirts and departed those
coasts with alacrity. She wants
to know why I don't destroy their
nest. Well, I have tried. Time was
when we schoolboys dident want any
better fun than to break up a yaller
jacket's nest. We fought them with
brush and brooms and dirt, and killed
the last one before we quit. Of course
we got stung sometimes, but there is
whbere the heroism oame in. But now
I have no boys-they are all girls-
and so I poured hot water in the hole
where the jackets went in, and it kill
ed a few, but there are over a thous
and in the colony, and they all got
mad with me and ran me into the house.
Then I piled up dead grass and old
papers over the grand entrance and
poured kerosene on it and set it on fire
and killed a few more, but still I
couldent miss them. Then I got
stung on the ear and that made me
mad and I mixed up a pan full of mor
tar and eoused it down into the hole
and all around, and I piled up a big
lot of clay and gravel on top and was
sure I had them fast and would starve
them to death, but next morning they
had a new hole and are attending to
business st the same old stand. I
have put a circle of empty flower pots
around the premises to warn the chil
dren away and now I am waiting for
further instructions from my friend in
When I was last in Florida I pulled
up a little sprout of the oppoponax
and brought it home and planted it.
It grew off nicely and we kept it in
the pit last winter and transferred it
so the garden last spring. It is now
a beautiful little tree about eight feet
high with numerouus branches, and I
think will bloom next summer if we
can save it. It belongs to the mimoa
family and its delicate leaves are quite
sensitive, though not so much so
as its humble cousin, the sensitive
plant. Like that plant, its blooms
are round tufted balls of different
colors, but unlike that plant, these
balls shed a delightful odor. When
pressed into a pincusion for a lady's
bureau they will perfume it for years.
I am going to winter it oatside of the
pit by protecting it with a berwt*ad
pinetups. Then these.iri thelettet
verbenas, or citradoras, thatar. e -hws
refreshing and delightfual to thlfee
tory. We put the small ones in the
pit and leave the large onesuoat Then
ti er* re a varilety.elettd lisats
whose flowers will gladden us all the
winter. A greenhouse eight by six
teen feet can be built and glassed for
ten or fifteen dollars and it is always
pleasing and refining to the family,
especially to the wife and daughters.
And now the chrysanthemums are
budding into beauty and filling the
air with fragrance. There was a time
wnep the flowers were all golden, and
hence its name from crusos, golden;
but the art of the florist has developed
nearly all the colors of the rainbow.
Then there are the tall and gaudy
Texas pinks or cosmos, that, like the
sunflower or the morning glory, will
spring up anywhere and everywhere
whether you wgnt them or not. There
is nothing prettier than a bed of
morning glories, their frail and beauti
ful flowers resting upon the dewy
grass at sunrise. We have had a
wealth of lovely roses this summer and
are still enjoying the exquisite beauty
us J.a r rance, wne ourt, ~nb mu~lur,
her majesty, the American beauty and
some others. How many pretty poems
have been written about the flowers!
Haroce and James Smith's ode to flow
ers is sublime. Mrs. Heman's "Bring
Flowers to the Fair Young Bride" is a
gem. Then there is "The Last Rose
of Summer," by Moore, and "The
Rose That All Are Praising," and
many others. Flowers adorn the wed
ding and the grave. They are akin to
music, and both prove the love of God
to his creatures.--BLT Asn in Atlanta
What a Blinshee Looks Like.
There is absolutely no proof what
ever that aniy person has ever seen a
banshee, the most noted spirit of Irish
folk lore, yet we have portraits of both
the friendly and unfriendly banshee.
Ihe former kind is represented as be
ing a young and beautiful female. The
face is spirituelle, with hair, eyes and
complexion ranging from the blonde to
the brunette type. She floats in the air,
raising her voice softly and melodious
ly to the sad refrain that gives warn
ing of the death to occur. The un
friendly banshees are as repulsive as
the other kinds are attractive. It is
still a woman, but old, wrinkled and
wicked, with all evidence of beauty,
good feeling and kindliness gone from
her face. We give these few particu
lars so that our readers may know a
banshee when they see it.
The fact that $14,225, the largest
amount ever paid at one time Into the
"conscience fund" of the United States
Government, has been received within
the last year, is a cheering indication
that some men are growing better in
stead of worse.
Unsurpassed : Dally : Service
IEW ORLIAS & IIIPRIS,
connecting at Memphis with
trains of the Illinois Cen
tral Railroad for
Cairo, St. Louis, Chicago, Cin
making direct connections with through
trains for all points
NORTH, EAST AND WEST,
including Buffalo, Pittsburg, Oleve
land, Boston, New York, Philadelphia,
Baltimore, Richmond, St. Paul, Min
neapolis, Omaha, Kansas City, Hot
Springs, Ark., and Denver. Olose
connection at Chicago with Central
Mississippi Valley Route, Solid Fast
Vestibuled Daily Trains for
DUlUQUE. SIOUX FALLS, SIOUX CITY,
and the West. Particulars of agents
of the Y. k M. V. and connecting lines
WM. MUnna, Div. Pa. Agt.,
JNo. A. ScorrTT, Dir. Ps. Agt.,
A. H. Haisos, . P. A.,
W. A. KannNo , A. G. P. A.,
W. D.Bmrr, Oity TktE Agt., Vicksburg.
THE GRIAT TRIl IIIE
North and South.
Only direct route to
IMmhis, St. Lels, Chip, Kassesm CIt
sad all points
IlORTlH, AST AID WIST.
Only direet route to
JaMss, Vitsrwl law Orks.
And all points in Texasm and the South
Double Daily Trains
Through Pullman Pa!saoe Sleepers
between New Orleans and Memphis,
iKanas City, St. Louis and Chicaego
without change, making direot eonnee
tions with Art-til-es Iaes to all points.
he great steel bridge spaning. the
Ohio river at aOsiro completed, and all
trains (freight and passenger) now rnn
ang regularly over Itthus avoiding the
blats sad sanoyaneeincaidetto treas
Sfe by ferry boat.
A., AuroN, J. W. oa as1s,
GeL PasU. gtt., A.. Ag. t,
Chioago. New Orns.
W, I, Bsw~R,34ItSr Tk%4, Yi**Ut&~n