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DISCOVERED IN TIME.
Some three miles back from our eastern
cotst, just within sight and scent of the salt
water, lies, a Suffolk village, Wynford by
name, of whose scattered population four
fifths find their living and centre their ma
terial interests upon that broad area they call
I A sleepy parish? An unemotional con
gregation of clodhoppers then? By no means
Indeed! Wynford has decided opinions,
brisk quarrels, many social grades of its
own, and has moreover, its full quantum of
of human joys and sorrows; perhaps hidden
among its sober generations, some tragedies
and to a certainty now and then a bit of ro
On Wynford Green, near the flint-towered
thatch-naved St. Nicholas', cluster all the
dwellings of the rural upper ten, from the
smart white villa of a late shopkeeper's bux
om widow close by the rectory to the red
brick residence of a vick-admiral's relict —
Mrs. Orde — from whose casements one can
look across the narrowing road into some
twenty acres of park, where stands the chief
house of the parish, "The Beech."
Here lived the lady of the manor. Not a
stately, exacting dame, ruling jealously over
a tribe of bobbing, hat-touching rustics, but
a young and beautiful woman, who inherited
through her mother a position none ever need
ed to grudge her sweet and noble nature.
"Miss Temple, my daughter that is to be,
seems part of Wynford's very, self, Mr.
Murray," explained Mrs. Orde to the newly
come rector, on his first call, one antumn
day. He was an Oxford Fellow, who, .in
sudden impatience at the barrenness of
book-life, had deserted it for the opposite ex
treme, a moderate living in the depths of the
country. "The people think so much of her
and she of them that I fear it will be a lam
entable day when my son comes to take her
"Your — son?" repeated Mr. Murray, po
litely — more than politely attentive.
"Yes, from India. He returns soon, to rob
your parish of its misstres. You had not heard
this Oh, well, I think our clergyman ought
to know what goes on among us. It makes
him more at ease, does it not;" And with
the friendly view of furthering this pleasant
footing, Mrs. Orde chatted complacently into
accounts of the neighboring family, and told
how a Mr. Temple, well connected but of no
fortune, bad married the heiress of Wynford
Manor, who, Badly enough had died,, when
their one child, Agatha was born.
"But there are two Miss Temples?" in
terpolated Mr. Murray, puzzled by remem
brances of two attractive faces near his pul
pit, of which one bad earnestly marked, (or
so he fancied) every syllable of his first ner
vous sermon, while the other had wandered
from pointed attention, through smothered
yawns, into a comfortable little nap. "Sure
ly I see two laidies often together, both
young; 1 thought them 6isters."
"So they are — at least half sisters," ex
plained Mrs. Onle: "for Mr. Temple foolishly
married again — a French lady, little Agatha's
governess, and Miss Leonie is her child
younger than Miss Temple by five years.
Poor thing! Her father died long ago, leav
ing not the least provision for her; for of
course, lie bad only a life interest in the
The Beeches. So bis widow and little jLcirl
were simply dependent on the elder daugh
ter. But the trustees were liberal, Miss Tem
ple most unselfish and generous, and they
all lived admirably together till Mrs. Tem
"Which was" —
"Four years ago, six months before our
dear Agatha came of age. It was just when
my son got his assistant judgeabip, Mr.
Murray — an excellent appointment, and on
the strength of his promotion, wrote home
us be did. It has been a long engagement
has it not? But Geoffry would never live on
bis wife's Income, without means or posi
tion of his own, so he determined to keep
abroad till he earned a pension; but I Dim
thankful to say, the last three years of his rx
ili! are not to be lonely. Now you understand
what brings him home, Mr. Murray."
Mr. Murray understood Orde's modestly
triumphant confidence only too well. By
some process of resoning be bad no mi.ad
to trace to Its source, he felt the revelation
had spread a shadow over his own life;and as
he went back alone, past the golden brown
beeches, to his solitary fireside, was hilf
Inclined to wish be had never ventured
from scholarly seclusion of Corpus into the
perils of a country pastorate.
And how was Mr. Geoffrey Orde's return
awaited by the tenants of the manor-houftel
Seemed the days long or short to Agatha
Temple till he came I
Why. scrrcely could she tell. The play
fellow of her almost babyhood, the lad who
used to bring his schoolboy laurels for her
praise,the youth who bad gone from her
while she was in her first girlhood — had wo
ed her as yet only with written words: and
though -he trusted every sylable, and ideal
ized her absent love perchance more than
most maidens, for, save Leonie, no other
was near and dear to her, yet to leave for
him the borne she clung to more each year,
to cast her lot in with his, was a point over
which sadness and gladness often fought. and
victory lay as yet on neither side.
"I know what I shall do" asserted Leonie
very positively, one night in the midwinter,
when being telegraphed as arrived at South
ampton, Mr. Orde might any hour appear ait
Wynford. "When that man comes 1 shall
hate him !"
"Oh, Leonie! Why," laughed her sister,
stroking the pretty, willfully posed head,
shorn of its Bunny tresses in a freak of fash
ion, and left shining, curly, provoking coax
able. "Remember, when Geoffery left it
whs you not I, who cried unceasingly. And
irho pray wrote to him and begged him to
•ome. back, for fear tigers should eat him?
"H-u-s-hi scandalmonger!" cried Leonie,
ier checks aflame. "Then I was small and
foolish; now lam old and wise, and 1 wish
be had kept across the sea forever. He'll
take you away, and what shall I do?"
"Keep bouse till we come back. Three
years will soon go by, Lono darling. Them
will be so much for you and Aunt Helen to
jo" (Aunt Helen was a distant relative —
companion, now, and chaperone to the two
girls) ■that time will By. Mind, you are not
to miss me, nor let any one else miss me,
Leonie gave a disconsolate slime:. "Aunt
Helen will rule me with a, rod of iron. She*
means to be pood, but she's like Mrs. Ortle,
md knows I'm poor,ahd — and — she'll mukc
lie mend my gloves and be Industrious.' 1
Agatha's dark eyes rested lovingly on her
Ulster's young face, so like her own, save that
its lines were always gay, while hers were
"Bo Industrious, little woman," she said,
with a half-motherly tenderness. "We richer
folks have no right to be lazy, but— wait a
moment," as Leonie crumpled her forehead
into negative wrinkles over "we richer
folks"- "but no tine. Lono, will trouble you
about being poor. You know how often 1
have' letter-writing lately! Well, it was
lor you. And to-day all is sett i. You are
Independent enough, now, with all that my
caretul guardians nave been saving for your
fortune. I wanted to tell you before Geffrey
came home. Now you know and we will say
uo more about it."
"But I must J'' cried Loonie, clasping her
lister impetuously. "0 Agatha, how "good
yoM are to me! How can I thank you? Why,
<\ "v single thing I have I owe to* you!"
"TiVvre is no owing between our father's
children, " answered Agatha, yielding herself
to a sliowvr of grateful caresses, "so there's
nothing to i>iy bark aud 1 want no thanks:
only, pieasa secret till I am gone."
"Till you are -.cone!" echoed Leonie rue
fully. ••»> Asa; ha, to have you kinder than
ever, just before , v ou sro. is dreadful! I hope
you may be happy, but 1 shall be miserable!
When that horrible man comes, I'll try not
to be wicked, but — I— thai! — detest him!"
CHUTEK T.'IE SECOXD.
When Mr. Orviu really did return, then
Hiss Leoaie accorded him a jealously-cool
reception, vastly amusing to those accus- i
tomed to iii-rnatural warmhearted frankness* !
but, fully occupied in attention to his fiancee, *
the gentleman appeared perfectly callous to
this ungracious treatment 80, perceiving
to her ams£cnient that she was receding Into
the unußUnl position of a non-entity, the
younger Miss Temple was piqued into be
coming her own vif, letting fall her droll
msaikof cerrraony, and slipping again into
the old bright ways that made her what ■
Agatha call d "the sunshine of The Beeches.' I
Hating her sister's future husband was un- I
profitable work; now, in a fit of repentant (
amiability, she resolved to please him.
By the time this happy transformation was
effected, Mr. Orde had been back a month, 1
and had discovered the value of the prize he I
had come home to fetch. • ,
Five years had changed the girl-friend . he
had left into a beautiful woman, whom he
was bound to love, not by promise only, but
by keen appreciation of her worth, grown
now and ripened even as she herself. And
for weeks the task seemed very easy, while
to Agatha, increasing knowledge of her be
trothed increased her happiness. Of a surety
the course of their love promised to run
smooth, Proud Mrs. Orde's air of dignified
gratulation over her son's excellent match
grew day by day; the village grew deeply in
terested in the coming wedding and the
bride-elect began to be busy exceedingly over
plans for her wide circle of her humble
friend' well-doing while she should be away.
Jestingly, Geoffrey Orde would tell her he
grudged the time she spent in confabulations
with Aunt Helen over the many trusts to be
left in her or the rector's hands, but the
eager confidence with which she would seek
to draw him into her projects, and her de
light in his approval, disarmed him of any
.passing chargin and left him no shadow of
excuse for complaint '.■'. .',
They were all of them certainly very happy
— perfectly content. And yet How a
cloud rose on this fair sky, none knew exact
ly. Those whom it overshadowed most
acknowledged it last of all. For it was so
easy, so right of Leonine to glide into treat
ing her almost brother with the free winsome- i
ness that kept her childish spite of her nine
teen years. He was of necessity almost as
often — her companion as Agatha's, .She had
been fond of him Ion:; ago, and — was it not
her duty to be fond of him now? To what
precise depths this duty led her she didn't
stop to measure, until, alas? they were un
And Geoffrey Orde, his word and honor
pledged to Agatha, felt himself safe to bask,
pleasantly amused, in the animated presence
of her younger sister, never finding out, till
May's .varm weeks were entered, and his
wedding fixed for the first day of June, that
he was turning traitor to his troth \ that the
charm of Leonie's gay nature was stronger
than the sweet gravity of that to which he
owed allegiance. But not to himself would
he allow this possible at first.
"I think," urged his mother anxiously
one night when they were leaving The
Beeches, "I do think, Geoffrey, as Agatha
sings no ducts with you, you would be wiser
•to sing fewer with Leonie."
"And why?" said her son shortly.
"Well, Agatha may not like it. Other
people may— least, they do notice it." .
"Agatha Is entirely above any wretched
jealousy," said Mr. Orde impatiently.
'•Still, I should be sorry," his mother ven
tured on, "that you should seem to slight
your wife that will be. People might say you
were marrying for money, and Agatha doesn't
deserve that, Geoffrey."
"With or without money, she deserves the
best any human creature can give her," re
turned Geoffrey warmly. "Don't fancy I
underrate her, mother." And with that Mrs.
Orde had to be satisfied^ though the ambigu
ous speech left her disquieted.
Still he meant to be — nay, he vowed he
would — loyal; and, .strong in self-trust,
went next day to The Beeches, and found
himself listening for Leonie'6 step, watching
for Leonie's coming, made Infinitely glad by
the dangerous hour's music which unsuspect
ing Agatha pressed on them while she gave
audience to homely guests.
That hour he vowed, though, should be his
last of dalliance with temptation that was
getting too strong. Resolutely be would
avoid Leonie henceforth, resolutely devote
himself to Agatha. And so for days he did,
dulling his own spirit into utter-able aching,
bewildering Agatha, who thought the two
bad quarreled, and filling with pain unspeak
able the heart that was just learning its luck
"How the child frets over yonr leaving?"
said Aunt Helen, pityingly; and Lconie,s
sister, gazing at her, white and listless,wan
dering through the gardeu, wondered, with a
sudden fear, was it for that alone she sor
A doubt, double-barbed, shot through her
mind. Guiltless herself of falsity in a single
thought, it seemed unworthy, evil, treasona
ble to two she loved. But truth or treason it
must be. Which, for the peace of all, she
must find out.
It wanted ' only two da} of her marriage,
and on the last evening but one her nearest
friends were gathered at the Beeches, all not
ing approvingly the dose attendance of Mr. |
Onle at her 6ide.
Once only he left his.post when Leonie, wno
had obstinately refused a single song, sud
denly yielded and sang, not the gay air that
used to .suit her best but the saddest of her
strains, with a tremulous pathos that ended
in a sob. Then Geoffrey Ordc drew slow
ly towards her, as if scarce master of his
steps, and, looked down Into her fever-bright
eyes with such ,a glance as love of Agatha had
Standing near, with his young hostess, wa3
the rector, looking* ten yean older than when
he came to Wynford. People said the place
couldn't suit him.
"Your sister sings with tears in her
voice," said he, anil, waiting vainly for res
ponse, saw to his pain that tears were trem
bling, too, on his companion's dark lashes.
"I am —tired," said Miss Temple. "Will
you tell Aunt Hcllen to bid all good night
for me!" and turning swiftly away, abruptly
left her guests, of whom one departed soon,
sharing, if uot comprehending, the pang that
drove her Into solitude.
"She was tired" — plea that barred all
talk with Leonie that night, all share in next
day's preparations for the festive morrow.
Geoffrey Orde, coming, as usual, early, was
met by a message only — "Would he return
towards evening?" And when he did return,
for the first time Agatha descended from her
own room and went for a last hour with bet
Leonie, too restless for all company, wan
dered hither and thither: now flushed,
now pale: betaking herself at last to
the small "study," where, with her more
than sister, she had worked and played her
way from childhood up to now. and thence,
with door fast locked, she watched two figures
pace across the lawn, intent on speech so
earnest neither turned nor noticed her.
A book was in her bands: what book she
never knew. A rose she had idly plucked
fell to the ground unenred for. As the tWO
passed from sight the self-control so difficult
to her Impulsiveness, forsook her utterly.
Back into the room she shrank, covering
her face, with a sharp cry of pain whispering, '
"So false! so false! Ten thousand times I
have deserved it all. And yet it is so hard!"
While she sat shivering through her troub
le sunbeams sank into twilight, wood pig
eons cooed forth their slumber songs in
boughs without, and in the gloom she dares
at last, to weep— for herself; for him who,
worst pang of all, shared her great grief; for
Agatha, before the very thought of whom she
"But she shall never, never know!" She
cried, through her tears. "If only she can
go, and I can die, why, she need never
"Never know what?" oaiil ■• a soft sad
voice close by: and the next instant Leonie
was in her sister's arms.
"Oh, Agatha, she entreated, striving to
get free, "let me go? Don't come so kindly
to me? Don't ask me what 1 mcaat%*
"Wait!"' answered Agatha, with a -wonder
ful calm oti her pale face. "I can tell. Leon
ic, what it all means. That two of us have
nigh made a terrible mistake but have found
it out in time. I was slow to see it. I*>m>,
but I know it now. I have no right to Geoff
rey. He loves you best"
•'Hush!" He belongs to yon. not me. It
bas been a tangled skein for us, but this' Is
the only right way out of it; and Geogrer
sees that it is so."
"But, Aatha." urged Leonie, trembling
between exceeding pain and marvellous joy,
he has never said"
A" word. I knew he has cot. Both of
you meant to be faithful to me. Perhaps"
—with a wistful faltering in her tender voice
— "it was my fault you could not be. There,
darling, there!" as Leonie wept passionately
on her bosom — "let Geoffrey come to you" ; !
(his step was sounding on the path outside,)
and thank God for all of us this hour is not
How this extraordinary news- was received
by household and wedding guests, by poor,
disappointed Mrs. Orde, by the whole start
led parish, we must leave to our readers' im
aginations. ■ Lone before the ferment of ex- !
citement had subsided a quiet marriage- had
taken place — so Agatha had willed itand ail
yielded to — and with his bride (not por
tionless, as to his coaxtite surprise anil bis
THE ST. PAUL SUNDAY GLOBE, SUXDAY MOKNItfG;SEITrEMBERZB, ISS4*
mother's comfort, he discovered) ■ Geoffrey
Orde was speeding away to the far East.
Till the hubbub of discussion was past,
Agatha Temple deserted the Beeches, and're
turning after weeks of absence, brought back
in her brave serenity scarce a trace of the
trial that had driven her away.
"Leonie is happy!" she says, and allows
no tongue to blame her sister in her hearing.
Perchance her home, her people make up
to her for what she lost. Perchance the very
power to renounce what ' she did
wakens mistrust as to her fitness ever to have
filled the state she missed. Or perchance
(and this way run many wishes) it may be
dawning on her that womanhood's fair crown
is yet waiting, if she wilt but wear it; that in
her hands lies all the happiness of a man
who has loved her from the first moment he
saw her, and that the sure response stirring
within her own heart promises her yet a glad
future as John Murray's wife.
Who i» "Steve" Klkin*?
No question since the organization of the
present Republican national committee has
been more frequently asked than the one
which we shall here attempt to answer, says
The Denver News. The suddenness with
which an apparently obscure individual has
leaped into ; prominence, together with the
flourish of trumpets attending it, to say noth
ing of his representation on the committee
as the member from a territory, has natur
ally caused the inquiry. The answer to it
generally is that he is the son-in-law of Sen
ator Davis, of West Virginia, but that is
scarcely satisfactory. Our acquaintance with
the political history of New Mexico, together
with certain old residents of Missouri, enables
us to give a better one.
Mr. Elkins is a Missourian, and lived
thero prior to and during & portion of
the . war. His education and asso
ciations naturally developed in him
a strong love for the institutions and inter
ests of the south,, and as a pro-slavery Demo
crat he was in those days equalled by few
and excelled by none. During the entire
period of the rebellion his sympathies were
intensely southern, but as his abilities were
not of the combative order he failed to take
up arms for his southern brethren. During
the year 1862 (as we are informed), in order
to evade the northern draft and to avoid a
forcible enlistment against the principles
and the people which he loved so well, he
underwent a voluntary exile and fled to New
Mexico. There he was for many years an
intense rebel sympathizer and a violent op
ponent of the Lincoln regime. Up to IS7O
Mr. Elkins was the most ardent of Democrats
and the very last man who would have been
selected as the future leader of the great
party of moral ideas.
During these years, however, Mr. Elklus
and his associate in the practice of law, Mr.
Catron, acquired a great influence over'
the Mexican population, and also
acquired immense landed interests through
the nominal purchase of laud grants from
the Mexican government, protected by ihe
treaty of Guadaloupe-Hidalgo, but not then
patened by the United States. * About the
year 1870 Mr. Elkins, despairing -of an
early restoration of the Democratic party to
power, and "seeing various channels in
which" he could make the Republican party
useful, experienced a change of heart, ac
knowledged the errors of his ways, was re
ceived into full fellowship of the Republican
party, ami was sent as a delegate to congress
which position he occupied from 1872 to
IS7G. All of his little schemes, together
with those of Catron, then assumed shape,
and the fruition of his hopes was a matter of
a little time only. The government showed
its appreciation of their newly exhibited loy
alty by showering its favors upon them and
patenting to them without stint the public
domain. Each has thereby acquired enor
mous wealth, and they have in turn faith
fully served their newly found patron, and
it is but meet that Mr. Elkins should give to
the national committee the benefit
of that rich political experience
acquired during a long course
of years in New Mexico. There elections
were determined by the count in the law
office of the worthy pair referred to, and the
devices resorted to for defeating the public
will justify the statement made by many of
his admirers that "Steve Elkins is as much
smarter than Steve Dorsey, when it comes to
politics, as Dorsey is superior to a ten-year
It is an open secret that In all the schemes
in which ElUns is and has been interested
lilaine is a silent partner. The land grants
of New Mexico, the mines at Leadville, the
coal and railway interests in Pennsylvania
and West Virginia — all these t and others,
engineered and cousumated by S. B. Elkins,
are matters in which two are Jointly inter
ested. ? \ ■;
And this suggests the true secret of Mr.
Elkins' overweening desire for BMlne's
election. Mr. Elkins was one of the pro
moters of the Maxwell land grint scheme
and one of the grantors of the present
company. Mr. Elkins, while in oilicial
position, sold the claim, together with chaf
fee, Waddingbam, and others, for . an enor
mous sum to Dutch capitalists. The bound
aries of the grant were exceedingly Indefi
nite, but it was known that in extent it could
not exceed a million acres. In order to
properly define and mark its boundaries the
interior department required a survey of the
grant, and Mr. Elkins was fortunate in se
curing the job for his brother. The lines
were run to suit the owners of the grant, and
finally a secretary of the Interior was found
whose conscience was sufficiently pliable to
enable him to consent to the issue of a pat
ent according to the survey. Its fraudulent
and swindling effect was soon apparent, for
It included 8,660,000 acres of the public do
main, to which Elkins and his confederates
never had a shadow of claim, and a very
large portion of which was in the actual pos
session of bona-fide sutlers. A suit Is now
pending in the circuit court of the United
States - for this district, brought
by the government against . the
Maxwell company and Elkins and
others, to set aside this outrageous and infa
mous grant, and that the action will result
in a victory for the government, is prose
cuted, is apparent to everyone cognizant of
the (acts. My. EUclns 1 warranty of the title
to 8,650,000 acres, therefore, becomes a very
serious matter for him, since he must re
■pond to Us grantees in the event the title
fails, and that means financial embarrass
ment, if. not financial ruin.
Does any man acquainted with the facts,
with Mr. Elkin's danger and Mr. Blame's
reputation, doubt tor a moment that Mr.
Maine's election to the presidency means a
dismissal of the Maxwell land-grant suit by
the government! Why do both Challee and
Elkius aspire to the head of the interior de
partment above all other positions, but that
this and similar frauds of their own perpe
tration may be spared an open investigation
before a jury of bonost citizens! Mr. Eikins
is undoubtedly anxious for the success of
Mr. Blame, and woe to the poor squatters on
the Maxwell grant if Mr. Blame should be
Not long since I was riding toward Cloud
Peak, and had gone only three miles when I
discovered two enormous grizzlies down in
the horseshoe canon. I left my posy, went
to the canon wall and opened fire on the en
emies. The bears were five hundred yards
away. My first shot wounded one of the
monsters, and the wounded one immediate
ly attacked the other bear. They .fought dcs
! perately for fifteen minutes. It was a ter
rible encounter. The wounded Lear was
beaten by its antagonist, after which I shot
the victor. They were both ferocion* look
ing animals, and the two would weigh over
three thousand pounds. Their tusks meas
ured three inches, claws four inches, feet
fourteen inches, and the bears were twelve
Leaving the two bear?, I walked over a
rldgo not more than a mile away, and came
on to four more, two black and two silver
tip bears. They did not see and my position
was » good one, on the lee and near a nice
smooth crag of granite. Slipping en a pair
of moccasins. I was soon on top of the gran
ite knob, 1.10 feet above the ground. I
opened fire immediately, only 200 yards,
killed two at the first shot, and soon bad
them rolling down the mountain together.
It was an exciting time; the four bears
made a terrible noise. After seeing a large
eagle swoop di'wn among the pices, catching
a grouse. I descended from my rocky kaob
and ventured op to the bears. There they
all lay in a heap, all dead and in the gulch
toecther. Those six bears would weigh over
JONATHAN' EDWARDS. I
A 'Profound Theologian irlio wn* a Master '
\ of Pungent Reparte*. '■
Stockbridge (Mass.) Correspondence Pitts
burg Dispatch: The lama of Stockbridge •
rests largely upon, these great names, of '.
which the first is that of Jonathan Edwards.
Here is the house in which that wonderful (
preacher and philosopher used to pray, and ,
read, write, and fight hand to band .
with the Devil. Here is the very table at i
which he sat, and on it are ink-stains from
which the very old ink-horn into which he i
so often dipped his pen. '-"...
Here Is the very chair in which Edwards :
often sai: perhaps the very one in which he ■
was seated when a young man called upon
him to ask his daughter's hand in marriage.
"You can't have her," said the preacher.
"But I love her." "No matter, you can't
have her.'. "But she loves me, too.' "I
say you can't have her." "But lam well oil
and can • support her." "You can't have
her, I tell you." "Why not, Mr. Edwards?
What have you against me?" "Nothinc."
Well, then, why can't 1 have Emily "Be
cause I think you are a pretty decent sort of j
a young man ; too good for her." What? Mr. ;■
Edwards, what in the worK do you mean?" ,
She's got a wicked temper, and you wouldn't ,
be happy with her." But I thought she was ,
a Christian?" "So she Is, young man, so •
she is. But before you have lived as long as '
I have you'll find cut that there are -some '
people in this world that the grace of God '
may get along with but you can L ;
PARTIAL LOSS OF MEMORY.
Exemplified by an Interetttlnq Case.
Sick persons have been known to lose all
remembrance of what has happened to them
during their sickness, and sometimes,
stranger still, of the period immediately pre
ceding their sickness, while easily recalling
what went before and followed after. The
brain plays odd tricks with us at times,
especially when is has been subjected to a
sudden shock; and scientific men who. think
that its various convolutions are the seats of
various faculties of the mind, derive some
confirmation of their theory from the fact
that the power of memory may fail without
any failure of general intelligence, and may
fail in part without being altogether impaired.
A notable instance of this last-mentioned
peculiarity occurred about a dozen years ago.
A lad in the country was accused of throwing
another into a pond, and he was put on his
trial before a bench of magistrates. His elder
brother, who bore a high character in the vil
lage, both for conduct and for mental shrewd
ness, had seen the previous struggle
between the lads, and he was called upon to
give evidence. He declared his belief that
the fight was perfectly fair throughout, and
that the immersion in the pond was an ac
cident. Questioned as to what took place
afterward, he could not speak to a single
circumstance. "Did the prisoner attempt to •
rescue the deceased the chairman asked
him. lie could not say. "The bench un
derstands that you leaped into the water and
recovered the body. " "They tell me so."
he said, "but I have no recollection of it."
"The constable has told us that you dived
twice, brought out the body, and carried it
to the parents' house." "I have not the
slightest remembrance. I only know that I
was at home in bed at 8 o'clock" — six hours
later — "and the last thing I could remember
. was seeing poor Smith fall over the edge."
There could be no doubt that the ■ witness
was speaking the truth: and he could have
no object in doing otherwise. ' The shock
which he had received on seeing the fatal re
sult of his brother's quarrel had paralyzed
his brain; the memory was interrupted by
those few hours, though in all other respects
lie bad acted like a man in the full posses
sion of his senses.
Birds Which Drowned Great Fishes.
Manchester (Eng.) Courier: Capt. M'Lean
of the iron bark Firth of Lorn of Glassgow,
which sailed from Lyttleton, N. Z., April 26
last passed Cape Horn May '-53, and arrived
at London Aug, 21, reports the following
singular occurrence: July 23, when in lati
tude 29.01 north, longitude 39.48 west, a
floating spar was seen and a boat was lowered
and the spar towed alongside. ■On examina
tion it was found to be valueless, being worm
eaten throughout, but a lagre shoal of fish
which had accompanied the spar abandoned
i! and commenced eitlag \hc barnacles from
the ship's bottom. ' This continued until the
27th of July; when in latitude 38.42 north,
longitude 38.48 west, the fish left the ship,
after having cleared the ship's bottom, by
which the speed of the vessel was increased
two knots per hour. Soon afterwards a sin
gular commotion was observed on the ocean,
which was nearly calm. Birds was seen
moving about on the surface with great ra
pidity, occasionally disappearing beneath the
water and coming up ainiin, half strangled.
As the vessel approached it was seen that the
shoal of fish several acres In extent was vis
ible on fjthe water. A gaunet or liver would
alight on the back of a great fish, spread its
tail and wings to catch the breeze, dig its
claws deep into the finny monster's hide,
and go before the wind at such a tremen
dous speed as soon to drown the animated
raft. The bird would then devour the fish at
The Mulligan letters strip Mr. Blame of
much of the lofty grandeur with which en
thusiastic partisans invested him. They do
not prove that he stole anything; they, do
not establish the fact that he cheated any
body; they do not stamp him as a venal leg
islator, but they do conclusively present him
as the leading; representative of a licentious,
speculative, and profligate political system,
that aimed to debauch the great business
operations of the country and make them the
dependents of political power. There is no
possibility of mistaking the standard of
statesmanship that pervades the letters. It
was purely speculative, licentious to a great
degree in the employment of public
power for personal gain. and sub
ordinated the political direction of a great
government to the greed of a jobber. It was
' the degenerated and proflisate statesmanship
that had its logical creation in the social,
business and political demonstration of the
desperate civil war, and Mr» Blame floated
with it, and gladly saw every man fall under
the Iron heel of the party power who dared to
be fearless and honest, frugal and just. In
stead of throwing his great leadership into
the breach to recall the bleeding nation to
honesty and economy with peace, lie was
content to float with the speculative and li
centious tide, and even more than willing to
multiply his individual fortune by the
methods that would have made a Lincoln, a
Buchanan, a Clay, a Cass or a Douglas blush
with dishohcr. — I'hiUtiUlphia Thru* (InJ.)
A Clergyman on Ulalne.
Rev. W. H. Boole, a Methodist preacher,
an army chaplain and always an ardent Re
publican, lectured to his flock in Williams
burg on Monday evening. Mr. Boole glanced
briefly at the platforms of the Republican and
Democratic parties to show that there was
little or no difference between ti.t-m. The
Republican party had been promising for
twenty years to remedy evils that were still
j in existence. Then he referred to the attacks
| upon Graver Cleveland's chaiacter without
! comment further than the remark that,
I admitting the worst to be true, it was not
likely that his administration ortbe adminis
tration of any president would be in the least
affected by the private character of the in
cumbent. He also referred to the Biaine
libel suit, and remarked, with a slight touch
of scorn, that the man who so dramatically
flew to the front in defense of the honor of
his family was now willing to let the suit go
over until after the November election.
Rev. Mr. Boole said: "Mr. Biaine is a
logician, and I have to accuse him of duplic- |
ity, and deception in writing these words.
» He could not rote for or against the prohibi
! tion amendment, because prohibit on is a
'local Issue.' [Laughter.] He was a citizen
of Maine, and it was the right and duty ~of
every citizen of Maine to vote on that
issue. He would not obtrude a local ' issue
into national politics- When be voted for
governor he voted on a local issue, and his
i vote for lieutenant governor was on a local
i issue, and so was prohibition a local issue.
But Mr. Biaine refused to do Ms duty as a
citizen of Maine, and could not vote for or
against an amendment making constitu
tional what had been for twenty-five years a
statutory law of Maine, and by bis own
words of explanation be convicts himself as
a trickster. [Applause.] The state of Maine
voted upon purely local questions months
before the national election, and as a citizen
of Maine Mr. Blame Abculd have stood up to
the; rack in defense of the institutions of
the state. He did not do it and he . tried to
cover his cowardice with apitful explanation.
■ Mr. Boole then showed that while Mr'
Biaine was pretending to be a prohibitionis.
he was also in hearty sympathy with the
liquor traffic by reading "his letter to Charles
Emory Smith, in which he makes the propo
sition that the national supplies be i reduced
and state taxation • lessened by dividing
among the states the revenues from the tax
on liquors, adding complacently that "the
tendency would be to increase rather than
diminish this ratio as time rolls on." Mr.
Boole said that he merely read this letter to
6how that Mr. Biaine was not a prohibition
ist. ;"I would not care for that, " he added,
"were it not stated to us that he is."— New
SLEIGH RIDING IX SUMMER.
A Startling Transformation Scene which
Occurred at a German Wedding.
[Brooklyn Eagle. |
In striking contrast with the average
American wedding, where the contracting
parties hie away soon after the ceremony,
was a social event last evening in German
society in this city, conducted in truly Teu
tonic fashion. The hymeneal festivities be
gan early in the evening and continued un
abated until daybreak this morning. Mr.
George Zipp was the happy father, his daugh
ter was the bride, Mr. Peter Niebel the
groom, and a host of friends were the guests.
At 8 o'clock, at the residence of the father,
10 Elm place, in the presence of a large com
pany, Miss Josic Zipp was united in wed
lock to Mr. Peter Niebel, the ceremony be
ing performed according to the German cus
tom and in the German language by Rev. Dr.
Henniken, pastor of the Henry Street Lu
theran church. The ceremony was brief but
impressive, Mr. Zipp gave" his daughter
away, the parties joining hands and the
groom sealed the contract with a ring and a
kiss. The bride was handsomely dressed in
maroon siik with lace trimmings, a diamond
breastpin, and a diamond ring and diamond
earrings, the gift of her husband. At the
conclusion of the ceremony the company
walked in couples from the house to the
Casino adjoining, and sat down at the ban
queting tables in the parlors up stairs. In
the center of the room was a long table laden
with wedding presents and flowers. The
collation having been served, Mr. Lewis
Froelich, as chief orator of the evening, read
an original poem in his native language,ded
icated to the bride.
Madam Pfelzel, of New York, recited a
poem. v v
At midnight the party assembled in the
concert hall, and dancing and merry mak
ing began. It had not proceeded long when
the guests were mado aware that the season
had suddenly changed and that they
were in the midst of a
driving snow storm. Large white
flakes were mysteriously falling from above,
and the floor was soon covered with a snowy
matting. • In the distance was heard the
merry ring of approaching sleigh bells. The
dancers stopped in amazement, and the
bride, clinging to her husband, anxiously
waited an explanation of the brilliant trans
formation scene. As if by magic the folding
doors rolled back, and a fiery black steed,
richly caparisoned, galloped into the hall,
drawing an elegant Albany cutter. The
turnout, driven by Mr. Ferdinand Linn,
made the circle of the room several times,
amid the rousing cheers of the guests. Mr.
and Mrs. Niebel were invited to a scat in
the sleigh, which, in a few appropriate
words, was presented to them on behalf of
the Messrs. Linn of this city. A short wed
ding ride was taken, followed by a shower of
imaginary snowballs. The affair was de
cidedly unique and novel, and was a genu
ine surprise to all save Mr. Zipp and the
donors of the gilt. The occasion called
farth Mr. Froehhch, who congratulated the
newly made couple upon having a father
who could furnish them with a sleigh ride in
the hot months of summer.
Jlr. Davit* two Transactions in Sob
lit i! Consolidated,
In California, in the days oi the Comstock
excitement, when all kinds of wildcats were
being floated on the market and rapidly
bought by an indiscriminatlng public, a Mr.
Davis bought a claim. The claim did not
cost Mr. Davis much, whatever it cost the
public, and it was known by the name of the
"Bobtail Consolidated." The speculative Mr.
D. organized a company and sold some of
the slock. To a particular friend of bis he
sold a block of 10,000 shares at $1 per share.
For some time the mine amounted to
nothing and after a few 25-cent assessments
had been levied' the stock would really not
have been cheap as a gift.
For this reason Mr. Davis and the friend
to whom he sold the 10,000 shares as a good
thing were not on speaking terms. One
day, however, the friend, to his utter and
complete astonishment, received a note ask
ing him to call at once at the residence of
Mr. Davis. He went and found Mr. Davis
in bed.' The table was covered with medi
cine bottles, aDd Mr. Davis looked as if his
head "had been reposing in a sack of flour.
"Jim," said Davis, in a bourse and feeble
voice. "I did you a dirty trick a few months
ago in selling you them 'ere Bobtails, for I
know'd you couldn't afford the money, and
heaven knows they've not brought me to
"Well, "said Jim what has been done can
not be undone now," at the same time gaz
ing compassionately upon the sickly form of
the prostrate Davis.
"No, no," urged Davis, "I done you a
wrong. The doctor says I haven't many
hours to live, and before I die I want to undo
as far a I can the injury I done you. Where
are them shares?"
. "Got'em down at my office" was the reply.
" "You bring 'em up here as soon as you
can," said Davis, "and I will give you the
the money that you paid for 'em."
Muttering expressions of grief, and with
eyes rapidly becoming moist with tears Jim
rushed off to the office and brought up "them
'ere shares." The shares were handed to
Davis, who, with an expression as if it were
his last earthly transaction, handed his friend
"I never thought you meant to do the
wrong," said Jim, speaking as if he was
about to choke, "and I do hope you will soon
he better, old man." Jim then retired with
his bands full of greenbacks and his eyes
full of tears.
No sooner had he left the room than Davis
suddenly recovering jumped out of bed and
did a war dasMe ou the floor. Wiping the
flour from his face and taking the rag from
off his throat he remarked to a confidant.
"Well, I guess I had him that time?"
"I guess you did, replied the confidant
The following moraine the news was bla
zoned forth in all directions that the "Bob
tail Con." had struck the greatest body of ore
ever seen on the Pacific coast,and the shares
bourded up from 75 cents, the last ass^t>«
m< nt unpaid, io 7. The last tfOK Mr. Davis
was seen be was living at the Hoffman House
in New York, feasting on the fat of the land.
He was then the largest individual holder of
"Bobtail Cons," and drawing a princely rev
enue in the form of monthly dividends from
the property, But once again Duvls and his
friend aie not on speaking terms.
A DaUoZn Girl. ' »
A broad-shouldered, compactly built young
woman, with brown face and hard hands,sat
in the Lake Shore depot last evening waiting
for the departure of a train for the east She
had just arrived in town from Dakota.
"We don't waste anytime in foolishness
cxX our way," she said to a young man who
seemed to be acquainted with her. "There
is no love making on my half section. It's
nothing but No. 2 wheat from May to August '
That's what we are out there for. Now, I
own and manage a farm of 320 acres, and
this year I took cut a crop of eighteen bushels
to the acre and sold it got the cash, put it in
the bank, discharged all my men but one,
who will look after things this winter, and
I'm off for a little fun down east Marriage?"
said she, in response to some remark by her
companion; ♦•that's what all the good-for
nothing cranks of men that I see from
ploughing time to harvest c&n talk about.
What do I want to get married for* There
are more than v three ! hundred of us cirl
farmers in Dakota, and we will hold a con
vention tome time. ; I never saw a man yet
that I would have around. I intend to farm
it until I get money- enough to live on com
fortably/ and then Fll sec.' I'm in the habit
of doing about as X please. There was a nice
young fellow in my neighborhood last , : July,
who tried to be very gallant and wanted to
help me whenever I did any work.; If I
chopped a little wood he wanted to do it. , L If
I went after a pail of water he wanted to car
ry it. If I put a bag of grain on my shoulder
he insisted on giving me a lift. He was a
pretty nice boy, but he made me tired. One
day I wanted the hay-rick on the wagon, and
I took hold of one end and clapped it up on
the wheel so quick that it made me dizzy. ■
"Let me,' says he, but he only threw the
whole thing down in trying to get the other
end up. He didn't have the strength. • .
- "Says I: 4 Oh, go away. You don't eat
enough No. 2 wheat.' Then I put the rick
up in good style.
"We meet lots of such fellows out there.
They are good enough, I suppose, but when
I want one I will send for him."
OLD MASSACHUSETTS SaOEMAKERS.
How they Compare with tho Machine Shoe
makers of the Present Day. :
■ Randolph, Mass., Sept. — The attention
of the stranger in this old town is often at
tracted by small, one-story buildings, 15x20
feet, attached to many of the cottages of the
mechanics. Although too substantially built
for woodsheds and outbuildings, they are now
used as such. They belong to an interesting
era in the history of the manufacture of boots
and shoes in eastern Massachusetts, before
the advent of machinery revolutionized the
business, and before the bringing of it into
■huge steam factories left the little shops of
former days to do inglorious duty as hen
houses or rubbish bins. -
Step back over the pathway of time thirty
years and pay a visit to one of these shops.
Say that i* is a cold, frosty night in the fall,
for the men worked in the evening; when the
weather was cold. The ruddy light gleams
cheerfully through these tattered curtains,
and we hear sounds of laughter and the click
of hammers as we draw near. On entering
we find ten or twelve workmen seated on
benches crowded into a little room, briskly
working by the light of lamps suspended from
the ceiling. The walls and ceiling are black
from the smoke of years, and the inky efforts
of artistically disposed loungers. The floor
is buried in a layer of leather chips a foot
deep. From the midst of all a little red-hot
cyclindcr stove sends up its rickety pipe
along the ceiling to the chimney at the end.
A board placed upon a shop tub serves as a
seat for a neighbor who has dropped in to
hear the news or to participate in the argu
ment which in many shops is the feature of
the evening. Perhaps, if we look close, we
may see on a . convenient shelf a dictionary
or a few works of reverence, which are often
consulted to substantiate an assertion or set
tle a dispute, for in those days, before ma
chinery came with its rattle and roar, con
versation was easily carried on, and habits
of discussion naturally formed, so that prac
tically each "gang" was a debating society
on a small scale. Thus it was that in these
shops of the olden time was nurtured that
spirit of intelligence of which the shoemakers
of Massachusetts are noted to-day.
Beauty and the Bennett.
They tell a little story about Com. Bennett
and a young Cleveland woman who has
been the rage at Newport for ■ some time.
Bennett's magnificent manner, the regal
style in which he lives, and the fascination
which the memories of his wild escapades
give him among women, chained the fancy
of the Cleveland beauty. She is a young
married woman, about 22 years of age, and
her husband as is the case with most all
young married-woman beauties — dis
creetly in the background. She is said to be
worth a million or two, and in my opinion
she is the most beautiful woman of the sea
son. When Bennett arrived she made a
dead set for him. They got to be capital
friends, and she devoted most of her time
to trying to get him to take a glass of wine
with her. She said she only did it for a lark;
but it made no difference whether she did or
not, for Bennett never humored her. She
was quite popular In society there until a
week ago when the Commodore came ashore
and took her off for a sail in the Namouna.
They were back by 9 o'clock at night. A
few days later Mr. Bennett decided to give
the lady in question a luncheon, and he
asked her to invite her own guests.
She asked twelve women, and every one of
them refused flatly. She was in despair.
She appealed to Bennett, and he looked
f bout. There was not a lady in Newport
who would make one of the party with the
Cleveland beauty. It was as complete a frost
as I have ever seen, and it was an infernal
outrage, too, for the little woman is as
straight as a die. It was all the result of
one of those malicious remarks that arc
started so easily at Newport, and that will
kill the best reputation in an hour. The
lady in question — for she is a lady — left New
port the day the luncheon party was to have
occurred. — [New York Letter.
Impending Rational llottenness.
Men give the best possible measure of
themselves when they declare their opinions
upon sonic definite facts. As soon as we
know what people detest or what they admire
we know what they are. In this particular
the Mulligan letters are of especial value just
now, and they are perhaps worthy of more
attention in this respect than even in their
primary character as historical documents.
By the opinions that the Republican journals
and the Republican orators and the Republi
can candidate himself utter in regard to
them, we have a fair standard by which to
judge the morality of the Republican party.
In a general way it may be said that the party
sees no harm in them. Mr. Blame says
there is not a word in them that is not "con
sistent with integrity and honor." Let the
people study them and see in the very words
of Blame himself how high is his standard of
integrity and honor. If there is any point
touching these letters which is worse than
the letters themselves it 13 the indication
they give of the mental condition of one of
our great parties. For Blame to have writ
ten such letters might be discharged from
the mind finally as a case of individual de
pravity, but for a great party, comprising
at least half the nation, to be indifferent to
their dishonesty points to impending national
rottenness. '.^f-Y ■
al>r. Potter and the Cou-huyu
[Albany Times. |
The Hon. James M. Woolworth, chancellor
of the Episcopal diocese of Nebraska, tells the
following story of Dr. E. N. Potter of Union
college: "President Potter of Hohart college
New York, who has just been elected Bishop
of Nebraska, was making a tour of the coun
try in August. At Paxton Branch, on the
Ogallalla Land and Cattle Company's range,
be heard that Wilson, the man that tied Bur
bank on the Broncho's back and turned him
adrift on the prairie*, had been caught, and
was held prisoner at Blue Creek Ranch, sixty
miles distant. Dr.' Potter drove over there
the next day, and implored tjje two cowboys
who were guarding the prisoner to release
bini, but they were relentless. After pleading
and praying with them a long time, Dr. Pot
ter concluded they were past such influence,
and wound up by giving them both a thrash
ing. . This done, he unbound, Wilson who
saddled a pony and escaped. The affair made
j Dr. Potter a hero among the ranchmen, and
he was induced to write a detailed account
of the rescue to his friends in the cast.
How W'jndham teas Interviewed .
Laboachere in London Truth. ■ ',
Charles Wyndham was telling me recently
how he was interviewed in America. The
I energetic reporter caught him just a* he was
changing betweer the acts. "I want to in
terview you," he said. "I haven't a minute
to spare.'' replied the actor hurriedly; this is
one of my quickest changes." "You have
been very successful," continued the Inter
viewer. I * "I am glad to hear it," replied
Wjndham. "May 1 call on you to-morrow?"
Unfortunately, l am off early In the morning,
so I fear I cannot give myself the pleasure
of seeing you." ''Good evening, . then."
'•Good night." This conversation the next
morning occupied a column and a half.
A news item says that a Portland man left
borne to trade off a horse which did not suit
him, and '-returned with another horse, a
watch, ten bushels of potatoes, six dozen
eggs, ten pounds of butter, and $30 In money
in his pocket, as the result of his trade."
To may be I true, but the man's pockets
must have been rather . remarkable for their
roominess,': If the horse had commenced to
kick while in his - pocket, the animal would
have made a frightful mess of the eggs and
butter, and would probably have spoiled the
Norriatown Herald. -
How TJiey Affect the Handwriting . ,
: Harper 1 a Bazar: Since the ; new. science oi
reading character by the handwriting
come in, it is even said that the care taken"
of the nails affects the handwriting. ..;. The ,
long, almond-shaped nail is a . great support
to the middle finger, which guides the pen.
One can hardly imagine a person with short,
stubby finger-nail*, which are covered with
skin, writing the long, graceful English hand
which so delights the . recipient of the note
from a grande dame. It is said that poeta
and people wjth imagination are apt to have
long, taper fingers and beautiful finger-nails.
They have a handwriting in which the long
up-strokes and strokes cut into the
lines above and beneath them. The heads
of their capital letters are large. . This hand?,
writing shows ardor and impulse. When it I
has a markedly downward movement this
handwriting shows a tendency to melancholy.
An aptitude for criticism is shown amongst
people who bite their nails. • They are cyni
cal and severe, uncharitable and bitter.
They write a small, cramped, and illegible
hand- However, there may be good-natured
critics, men with versatility of comprehen
sion. They would have small but well
shaped nails, and their handwriting would
be somewhat angular, showing penetration
The nails of a musician are, of course, to
be observed, although the piano sometimes
injures them. The great musicians have a
sloping handwriting. There is however, an
eccentricity peculiar to the handwriting oi
executive musicians, as witnessed in that of
Beethoven. The finger nails of mathemati
cians are apt to be square and not beautiful.
The handwriting of such persons shows a .
quiet movement of the pen. The lines are
straight with the paper, the up-strokes and
the down-stroks are short, while the capital*
are. small and angular. Diplomacy has a
long supple hand, and a long, beautifully
kept finger nail. But the handwriting of a
diplomatist is not apt to be clear; it always
looks like a" snake gliding away. There are
no clear, gigantic capitals like John Han*
cock's, none of the fine curves suggestive ol
generosity and expansion; all is compressed
and impenetrable, . ■■■;
Certain inflexible natures express them
selves both by the finger nails and by the
handwriting — both are blunt and deter
mined. The Chinese have such long finger
nails that one might almost write with the
ends of them. - The tenacity of the Chinese
nail, which does not break shows that they
have more lime in their bones than we of a
different race. At one time, when good
Queen Anne bit her finger nails, it was the
fas hion for all the English aristocracy to bite
theirs; and in those days the English finger
nail was not what it is now. Fashion exerts
a potent influence on man, savage or civil
Mr. Donnelly's Canvass.
fWinona Daily Democrat, Sept. 20.]
DONXEIXT AT HASTINGS.
The Hon. Ignatius Donnelly meeting,held
in the court house Wednesday evening, was
called to order by John F. Norrish, who
nominated J. B. Lambert as chairman of the
meeting. After a piece of music, furnished
by the Hastings Cornet band, the chairman
introduced Mr. Donnelly, and as he'stepped
to the platform loud cheers greeted him. Mr.
Donnelly spoke about two hours to one of the
largest and most enthusiastic audiences evei
gathered together in the Hasting court house f ,
every seat being filled and many standing.
His speech was loudly applauded throughout
the entire evening, and it is evident that the
whole cymmnnity in and adjoining Hsatinga
are unanimous for Mr. Donnelly for con
gress. During the afternoon flags were fly
ing from many of the public buildings, and,
business houses, and a large one wad
stretched across the street containing the
words for congress — Hon. I. Donnelly," and
early in the evening the band marched up
and down Main street playing and crowds
were cheering for Donnelly. This being Mr.
Donnelly's old and present home, the dem
onstrations of his many friends show that
he stands high in their estimation.
The above is only the universal report
from the third district. While every shade
of .[opposition has concentrated its entire force
to electing Donnelly a pronounced Green
backer, it is infinitely small potatoes for
Roberts to run against Bierman just to satis
fy his personal spleen, for that is just what it
is. Nine-tenths of the Greenbackers are
supporting Bierman, and the larger part c€
the other tenth will be before November.
, * Western Homespun.
It is no use, says the Boston Trunscript,
for an Eastern man to try to tell a big story
when there is a Western man about.
"When I was a young man," said Col. B. t
"we lived in Illinois. The farm had been
wooded, and the stumps were pretty thick.
But we put the corn in among them and
managed to raise a fair crop. The next
season I did my share of the plowing. . We
had a 'sulky' plough, and I sat in the seat
and managed the horses, four as handsome
bays as ever a man drew rein over. One
day I found a stump right in my way. I
bated to back out, so I just said a word to
the team, and, if you'll believe it, they just
walked that plow right through that stump as
though it had been cheese." Not a soul ex
pressed surprise. But Maj. S. who had been
a quiet listener, remarked quietly: "It's cu
rious, but I had a similar experience myself
once. My mother always made our clothes
in those days, as well as the cloth they were
made of. The old lady was awful proud of
her homespun said it was the strongest
cloth in the state. One day I had just
plowed through a white oak stump in the way
you speak of, colonel. But it was a little too
quick for me. It came together before I was
out of the way, and nipped the seat of my
trousers, I felt mean, I can tell you, but 1
put the string on the ponies, and if you be
lieve it, they just snaked that stump out,
roots and all. Something had to give, you
Oysters and Scarlet Fever.
[Sew London (Conn.) Letter to New York Sun.]
Gideon F. Raymond has met with another
rebuff in his business of raising oysters on
birch trees and poles, which are set slant on
the muddy flats of Poquonnac river, a broad
estuary of Fisher's Island sound, three
miles east of New London. Mr. Raymond
and other Groton fisherman had planted
many oyster orchards in the river several
years ago, and were about to acquire hand
some fortunes from the industry. when the
Groton health board, attributing an epidemic
of virulent scarlet-fever and diptberia in the
town to the choking of the river water by the
submarine forest, pulled up the trees and
destroyed several thousands of bushels ol
oysters. Mr. Raymond sued the town, and
the case was carried through the superioi
court of errors, which decided against him.
Last winter the Connecticut Legislature vo
ted him $4,000 renumeration for the des
truction of his oysters. Last. spring Mr.
Raymond went to work to replant his beds,
using bare poles instead of bushy birch trees.
At once scarlet-fever appeared in the ham
lets on the banks of the Poquonnac river,
and bitter opposition was excited against th«
peculiar industry. Mr. Raymond had plan
ted 5,000 poles, and then the Groton select*
men warned him to cease planting. He
kept on, and the selectmen hired lawyers,
who had him arrested and prosecuted before
Justice Hill of Stonington a few days ago.
He was bound over for trial before the next
term of the superior court under $100
Tin Wanted the Medlcln
\ Boston Globe. |
In the suburban town, where "local option"
decreed that a physician's prescription must
precede a sale of liquor, a man entered a
drug store and called for a pint of whiskey.
"Have you a prescription inquired the
"What's that?" asked the applicant
The law was explained, and the customer
"Wai I'm an invalid. Where can I find a
"I am a physician," suggested the drug
i "You make it out, then," said the invalid.
This was done, the whiskey put up, and
delivered with the gentle words:
"A dollar and a half."
v ''Whuffor?" inquired the invalid. . : > -'
"A dollar for the prescription and fifty
cents for the whiskey."
"Wall, I guess I don't care for the •scrip
tlon; a'mother feller may want it," - said the
invalid, as be threw down * = half dollar and
escaped . . • : : ~,