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' A 1\l' r .<' Iv
TIE ANGEL VANION.
isel in hand stood a sculptor boy,
ith his marble block before him,
his face lit up with a smile of joy
an angel dream passed o'er him.
arvod it then on the yielding stono,
ith many a sharp incision,
Heaven's own light the sculptor shone
e had caught the angol vision."
ilitors of life are we as we stando.
ith our souls uncarved before us,
ng the hour when at God's command,
life's dream shall pass o'er us.
carve it then on the yielding stone
ith many a sharp incision,
eavenly beauty shall be our own,
ur lives that augel vision."
Somehow I cannot believe it will
r be." Widow Endicott, only ius
,finished undonsciously aloud.
It will be, and sooner than you
ik," interrupted a voice beside
see you have not heard the
John Renniman is dead."
De6ad, Jacques, do you say?"
Yes; he died of fever on his way
e on the Scotia. You know what
t means, of course; the smoothing
11 difficulties for Rame, and, though
will mourn his cousin most siicerely,
easy fulfilment of his hopes.".
11 interest,they went on discussing,
id many a family that day in Little
yen, the unexpected fortune that
befallen Raymond Renniman with
cousin's death. It was nothing to
m that the girl in the window bent,
h moment, deeper above her work;
y did not note even when suddenly
threw it aside and crept out of the
he was not supposed to have any in
est in the Renuimans, alive or dead'.
smile flashed, with the thought, on
girl's pale face as she went down
hall. So well she had kept her
ret from Aunt Endicott and Jac
esi Even in the startling fate of this
sh hour she realized there might be
Still smiling, she stepped out on the
tle balcony which fronted on her
amber. It was so pleasant to remem
r now what until now she had quite
gretted-that there had been sharp
ords, even, between them and her be
use she would not marry Raymond
nniman; that they, in their secret
arts, were this mnoment bemoaning
it she might have boen all in all where
; Nothing at allI
N The night was fair; the pressure of
e thought showed suddenly in pain
1 plainness on the fresh,strained face.
othing at all-hough, but for her
n denying, she would have been the
ife of this man she loved so fondly;
ver so fondly, so eternally, it seemed
Renie Endicott, as this moment she
me for the first time, truly to realize
At least his wife. The truth flashed
learly, but truth this little moment
ad lost its sting. She clasped her
ands and at the shining sky looked up
ith a mad regret for what she had
one. It was nothing to her that In
eymond Renniman's heart there was
o love, there could never be any love,
or her; that his seeking her in marriage
as but the fulillment of a promise
ade to a dying parent whose affection
e had won. There was one his soul
orshipped, well she knew but-she
id not care; it were enough to have
en his wife.
At least, his wife. Moon and stars
emed to laugh at her for her folly;
uddenly she realized the strange fancy
~he had almost unwittingly cherished,
l~hat since that day of his calm propo
1,a lis fate was linked to hers. D)e
~pite Elise Greydon, despite her own
rrejetion, she had hedged it close
Sy through the months, never yielding
he odd hope that all would yet come
ight between them.
v~Until now. Now? John Renniman
&as dead; his cousin was his only heir,
~Ind the entire wealth of the dead de
e~cnded to him. The sole barrier to
~is marriage with proud Adam Grey
don s daughter was removed; as Jac
ues had said, it wouldl be sooner than
No? It was a hard little moment
arz Reits Enidicott, but she quickly
alzdisfolly and struggled with it.
~ he bent her thoughts determinedly
4'tward John Ronniman. She had never
en him; she had1( heard of him only as
Sstrange, grave man, with some mys
try in his life-a mystery of a woman's
ealings which they said would follow
mtodeath. And death had come,
Bnd-since life was- death, she sup
~osed, nay, she was sure, that lie had
The moon lit up a bit of river just
$eyond the roadway. She shivered as
he looked over it; she forget herself
nqite in the tender pity that arose in
~er heart for him. After such a life
die this sad, sad wvayl It were hard
~fr any, but to him surely life owed
o eime little recompense of love and lhon
r before it ebbed away.
i ~A pity-a pity. Many a loveless
~ight, lookinig out over the waters, she
.~tought of him; with strange persis
tncy the ghost of John Renniman kept
~lling up her life.
SOnly a ghost! Tihe truth flashed a
*udder and a strange regret for its.
emptiness ofttimes through the loveless
~days.* * *
John Rlenniman was dead. A con
tagious fever bad broken out on ship
board; he had died after a few days'
.sickness, and was buried in the sea.
Hils baggage, thme papers found upon
his person, were handed over to the
proper parties, and, all in due time,
May mond Roenniman came into posses5
sion of wealth which ranked him one
-of the richest men in the country, and
first among the many suitors for the
hand of proud Adam Greydon's daugh
There folbowed, ore many days, a
buiet wedding at Greydon Manmer; for
though grief was sincere, love was im
patient, all the same. One was there
among the few invited guests-one
who listened to the marriage vows with
.pleased smile upon her lips as she saw
the eye of some ne directad to.
wards her and knew what they were
She was over it a little, Rente Endi
cott had thought; she had run the or
deal bravely, was all she could congrat
ulate herself, that hour it was over.
And to one thing quickly she made up
her mind. She oould not-she would not
Look -more on the man she loved In
his first flush of happiness with anoth
er. She must she would go away.
"I need a ciange; I wll go to Ben
ton for the winter." So, quietly, the
next morning, she said so to Aunt Endi
cott and Jacques, and two days later
she was on her way to the little western
town which,in past time, she called her
It was a long journey; she always
dreaded it. and this time it seemed as
though it never would reach its end.
She turned surprised as one in the car
remarked that they were traveling at a
breakneck, dangerous rate of speed.
For her the train jogged on all too
slowly, whatever its rate might be.
She was so forlorn, so lone amid all this
chatting crowd of people; she had not
even that absurd fancy which other
times had borne her company. She
Only a ghost, she thought.
It was a relief when a man entered at
a station and took the seat beside her.
[t seemed not quite so drear, so lone,
though through the still long Journey he
never once looked at her, nor vouchsaf
ed a word. She had dreaded most he
would, yet she could but wonder he
did not; she could not forbear an oc
casional fleeting glance of curiosity into
his grave but handsome face.
It grew a fascination; it grew-a
terror. For the thought suddenly
seized her it was all a fancy-that the
man beside her was simply a vision her
hpagination had conjured up. A fresh
thought flashed she could not endure;
quite beyond herself, she stretched# out
her hand to touch and know what this
strange thing might be.
"Only a ghost-her ghost?"
Tho cry was on her lips almost the
words were pouring out wfhen sudden
ly-a crash one dreadful little moment
of shock, o1 horror, and she found her
self sitting amid a mass of debris close
at the water's edge. She was too stun
tied, too dazed to remember what had
happened. Lacking the consciousness
that she was unharmed, and impulse to
extricate herself, she sat dully listening
to the cries and groans around her,
most fancying it a dream.
Suddenly, looking downward, she
saw the face of the man who had sat
beside her in the car-upturned, white,
motionless, at her feet. The eyes were
closed, a little stream of blood trickled
down from the forehead; he was surely
(lead, she thought, as the dreadful fact
of the accident came back to her; but
quickly she bent and stanched the low
as best she could, dipping her hand in
the near, blessed waters, and bathing
the lifeless face.
Might it be that ho should Ilvel So
she queried, looking with an all absorb
ing interest and anxiety down at him,
with a strange growing feeling of right
and kinship she never thought to ques
tion. A cry of joy burst from her lips
when, at last, the lids trembled, and
the dark eyes opened slowly.
Just he looked at her, and then a
smile broke on his face. It was a
smile men had not seen on that face for
"Dear," he said, faintly. "is it you
after all this time? I am glad-so
lie groped weakly for her hand, and,
all naturally, she gave it to him. A
pang thirilledl her as suddenly lie drop
ped it, with fading smile and another
look in his face. But it was kindly
"I thank you,'' lie spoke again; "you
are-very kim -- "
TIhe voices of helpers interrupted.
As if bsy imi,uhu, no strovo for a card
in his pocket and handed it to her.
She simply glanced at it, and
, Ier hiand~ dropped; sihe fell back ward
ini a swvoon.
Th'iat was the niame upon tho card.
* * * * * * *
It was (lays cre Itenie iEndicott wvas
herself again. Uninjured save a few
trifling bruises, she was able to travel
the little distance to JBenton by herself;
but, with thei reaction, fever and deli
rumt set in and waged a brief but
mighty war against her..
11er first clear thought was to the
strange event of that last moment, and
it absorbed her through the days. At
times It seemedi all a dream, a wild
fancy born of the excitement of the
moment and the white face shte looked
upon. Again and each time surer, it
was a simple, rationial fact; this was
only anotber John IBennlman whom
she had chanced to meet.
She strove to forget it quite, so sure
the latter grew, and somehow so much
pleasanter seemed her weird. But she
could not; each day it filled her mind
the fuller, each day sihe saw more clear
ly the rare, fond smile, more distinctly
heard the mysterious, tender words this
John Rleimniman had spoke to her. She
was lost in It still the day this little
note was brought to her:
"Mlay I have tihe plcasure of seeing
and thanking you again for your kind
ness at Rlavenr Forks?
The gentleman was below, the ser
vant said. She went down confusedly
with just the clear thought that she
was glad. Glhad for what? That he
had recovered from his ijuries, she
qluietly said to him. But as the dark
eyes smiled down on her, and the deep,
rich voice respondeld, the realization
flashed that, though she had forever
lost her weird, though this was but a
newv John Rtenniman, she was glad for
It wvas a pleasant interview; it was
all so natural at parting she should ask
him to come again. And again and
again he came, each time more eagerl
welcomed and anticipated, till final~
his presence grew an essential sweetne
to her life, and the Image of Raymond
Renniman, as fate oft ordains it, drop
ped out of memory.
She loved this new John Renniman:
she know that he loved her. But the e
was a strange reticence between thei
which puzzled her on both their parts.
Ilis love seemed ever to tremble on his
lips, but lie did not speak it; she know
surely, at times, that he forced it back.
And she could never bring herself to
speak to him of Little Haven, much
less to tell the tale of that other John
Renniman, which should have been all
She was pondering Its strangeness
even in his company one evening, when
a letter came from Jacques. She open
ed it for a mere glance at the contents,
and her eyes fell on a bit if news
which made her quite forget herself.
Raymond Ronniman was bankrupt; by
the rashest speculations he had lost the
entire wealth which had but just accru
ed to him.
"lie has done this[" she cried aloud.
"Raymond Renniman has done this.
Thrown away in chances the money
which came to him only from a dead
man,. What---" she spoke as if to
herself, bur suddenly she paused re
membering, and startled by the look in
her companion's face. It was a look
of surprise, not unmixed with pain.
"You know Raymond Renniman?"
lie broke in hastily, "And you say
that lie has done this folly? I -1
His look changed; a smile, much the
smile of that other day, crept over his
countenance. "I am very glad," he
finished, grasping with sudden venting
passion, the hand which held the letter,
"so glad, little Renie, because the news
rids me of all perplexity, and makes all
things right between us."
What did he mean? She could only
stare at him; whi,e a bit freed from
that first blissful thought that had so
engrossed him, lie looked back, ah, a,
tenderly, but again surprisedly at her.
"You have known all thus, and you
never suspected me?" he said. "But
-how could you? It is a strange tale,
little Renie. A few months ago I was
in Londonand decided to return home.
My stateroom was engaged; I had
written to Raymond when I would sail;
but, almost at the last moment, the
freak seized me not to go. A poor fel
low I had long known was anxious to
go over, and to him I proffered the pas
sage, trusting to him some important
papersi and my baggage, thinking to
follow at my pleasure. Ten days after
I read what you know. The facts
moved me strangely. He had been
taken sick a day out, and dying in deli
rium, none had ever learned his name.
There was naught in his belongings by
which the truth could be traced; he
was not unlike me in appearance.
Moreover lie was a friendless man; to
no one his death would matter. It all
flashed on- me, and I was an unhappy
man, Little Renie. I had often wished
I was dead, and I resolved to leave the
matter as it was. I knew Rlaymond's
troubles, and I determined to let him
have my fortune to live, where I did
not care, somewhere away from him.
I drifted out into this new country; I
lived on-ah, the <dull, dead life till that
day I saw you, Little Reile. Darling,
the touch of your little hand brought
back something more than life to mel
And I have been loving you-loving
you ever since that blessed moment,
but with always the thought in my
heart how I could come back to life
and do what was right by Raymond.
But now, poor ILaynmondi I am sorry
for him; but, oh,* my way is open.
Darling-darling, do you care so much
for this lost money, or can you do with
She had listened in amazement, but
his arms had closed around her; now
the tender kisses were raining on her
lips.% bWhat more for enie Rndicott?
Shyly she looked up at him.
"With joy," she murmured, fondly.
The smile of other years beamed
again on John Boennimants face. Life
had paid the debt it owed him.
It was a strange tale to go bactf to
Tito Minister's Wife.
T wo ladies entered a Fort street ear
one day recently and took seats beside
a lady well known to one of them. She
gave her friend an intro'duction, and
dteotiy. this one remarked:
"I think I saw you at the--.Street
OChurch one Bunday, several weeks
"You seemied to be as much disgusted
with the sermon as I was, for I saw that
you yere terribly une..y,
"Did you ever hear a worse preacher
in all your life?"
".i never did, and I haven't been there
The conversation then rattled off on
some ether subject, and by and by tihe
two iadies got off.
" I wonder why she didn't agree with
me about that preacher?" queried the
one who had bias edi him.
"Why, how could you expeot her to?
She's that very minister's wifel"
Bards Oan wires,
Some very curious observations have
been made on the German telegraph
wires at the instance of the Secretary of
the Post-office, and, in a paper read
neforo the Eiectrotechnic Society of
Berlin, some interesting facts were
given proving that in districts were there
are no trees the smaller birds of prey,
such as sparrows, starings and swal
lows, Iroquently alight on the telegraph
wires in arreat numbers. Swallows like
to build under the eaves where the wires
run into the offlees, and sometimes
cause an "earth" contact, Contacte be
tween wIre and wire are frequently
oaused by large birds, such as bustards,
storks, swans aind wild ducks. They
cause the wires to bend and sometimes
to break. Accidents of this kind were
frequent when the wires run by high
roads alqng which younzg geese wera
driveni to their pastures, Smaller birds,
even partridges, areQgenerally killed by
the shook of strikig~g the wires. They
do not cause much datuage to the lines.
Uoles aire often pecked through the
poles by woodpeokekd, the picas
mar)(na.or plack( woollpoker, the picas
virida dr greeu woodpecker, and the
picas major or piebald woodpecker, none
of which spare any kind of woodl with
which they ome in ontaot,
Logan, the Mingo
There are few intelligent persons in
the civilized world who have not road
the speeoh of Logan, the Cayuga
usually called the Mingo-ohief. and ad
mired its simple, pathetio eloquence.
It will live as long' as oration on the
Crown, yet not one in a thousand who
know it by heart know when and how it
was made. It may not b( uninterest
ing to tell the story as it was told in the
deposition of John Gibson, the first
secretary and second Governor of in -
diana Territory. In 1774, says the de
position, Mr. Gibson accompanied Lord
Dunmore on the expedition against the
Shawneos and other Indiatis on the
Scioto; that on their arrival within fif
teen miles of-the towns they were met
by a flag and a request thal. some one
should be sent in who unde ood their
language, and he went at the request of
Lord Dunmore and all the officers; that
on his prrival at the towns, 14ogau, the
Indian, came to where this deponent
was sitting with Cornstalk aid the other
chiefs of the Shawnees, an4 asked him
to walk out with him; that they went
into a copse of wood, where they sat
down, when Logan, after shedding
abundance of tears, delivered to him the
speech nearly a3 related by, Mr. Jeffer
son in his "Notes on Virginia,"
The speech was delivered to Mr. Gib
son alone, apparently, and orally, too,
for wo can hardly suppose that Logan
wrote it, in the fashion of modern ora
tors, and gave it to his friend to publish
or preserve. Reporters were not known
among the Shawnees in that day, and
if they had been, Logan couldn't write.
We infer, therefore, that this sudden
outburst of uncultured eloquence was
merely an Indian'a "talk" with a friend.
Mr. Gibson does not say that ho wrote
it down or repeated it to Mr. Jefferson,
but we must suppose he did one or the
other, as nobody else heard it; and the
supposition in strengthened by his car
tification that Mr. Jefferson had pro
served it "nearly" as it was delivered,
Probably the general idea has been
pretty much the same as ours, that the
chier made his speech at an assembly of
whites and Indianu, and some of the
auditors remembered it well enough to
telt it to others, and it has got to Mr.
Jefferson. The man who proposed and
led the expedition which murdered
Logan's family-against the protest'ol
Mr. Zane, the founder of Zinesville
was Michael (3resap, of whom nothing
appears to be known but this infamous
butchery. A few days afterwards a
worthy companion in cruelty, one
Daniel Greathouso, led a party in a
massacre of the Indians, soeie forty or
fifty miles higher up the Ohio. The
coasequence was an Indian war and a
desperate battle at the mouth of the
Ureat Kanawha, led by Logan. who had
always before ueen -the white man's
friend," as he says, and by Cornstalk,
Red. Hawk and Elemipsico. The whit3s
lost 75 killed and 140 wounded, a
bloodier battle than' Tippecanoe, where
the whites had 87 killed on the field and
160 wounded. Logan is said to have
lived on the creek bearing his name, on
which Alexander Cambell lived and
founded Bethany college, and had his
cabin or wigwam set near the site of the'
college. The Delawares and Snawnees,
who composed the major part of the
force that fought the battle at the
mouth of the Kanawha, held the terri
tory where our city stands, and all the
eastern and southeastern part of the
State, when it was ceded in 1818.
She Knew Ilimi i3bst,
John William Blank belon ged to the
A ncient and Modern and Highly Hion.
orable Sons of Gunis of D~etroit If it
wasn't that, it was sonie other frater
nal order which meets every Monday
night and1( pays so much to the heirs of
every member who happens to die.
Johun Wilam happened to die the
other month, and a committee was ap
pointed to draft resolutions and present
them to his wife In person. 'The first
part of their duties was fulfilled to the
entire satisfaction of the lodge, but the
committee had some little trouble in
finding Mrs. Blank. They traced her
from one neighbor to another, and fin
ally lound her at her sister's, hat and
shawl on and ready to go out.
"Resolutions of sympathy, en? Well,
The Chairman of the committee pro
ceeded to read that John WIlliam was
a good husband and a kind father and
a citizen of unappronchablo integrity,
when the widow interrupted:
"Too much taffy! We used to have
a fight every week, and as for his being
a kiind father we never had any cil
dren. As for his integrity lhe stole all
the wood we burned last winter!"
The Chairman gulped down some
thiing and continued to read that John
William was an upright brother, a man
with a heart full of sympathy for the
misfortunes of others, and that charity
and forgiveness were the beacon fires
which guided his footsteps.
"FudgeP' sneered the widow. "I
washied for the money to pay his dues
to the lodge, and all the sympathy any
one got out of him wouldn't buy a
cent's woriA of court-plaster! Forgive
ness! Well, somne of you ought to have
sat dlown on his liat some time! He'd
have reven~ge If it cost him a year In
Slate Prison. iBeacon fires Is purty
good, considerin' thamt we never had a
decent stove In the house!"
"Madam, your hus band hats been
"Exactly; I was at, the- fumneral and
ought to know."
"Hie was cut downm like a flower."
"W~ell, flowers ought to let whisky
saloons and plug-tobacco and old sledge
"And we truist that our loss Is lisa
"WVelh, If lhe's any better off 1zi glad
on't, but I guess the gain Is on your
side. Now that's all I want to hear. I
can pick up a thousand better men
tihan him wIth my eyes shut. I'm in a
hurry to go down and see a woman who
offers to sell a fur-lined circular for
$15,and If you haveoany more hightalul
tin Shakapeare to git off my sister will
take it in and nava it tillTIcnma batekI
Uongo Natural History.
The elephant Is very abundant on th<
Upper Congo; and every morning, a
you ascend the river, traces of thei
last night's devastations may be seen
for they seem to have a tendency towart
wanton destruction and waste, beinj
like parrots and monkeys in only eatin
about a quarter of the food they pro
cure, and scattering the rest right an<
loft with wanton caprice. So, on th
islands of the upper river, where thi
graceful borassus palms grow ht% theli
thousands, each blue-green palm witl
its cluster of orange fruit, the elephan
is to be constantly seen--some times It
broad daylight, but more often towardf
sunset-breaking his way through th
pillar-like clusters, destroying many c
beautiful palm for the sake of thosi
orange colored stony dates of which hi
Is so strangely fond. You may als<
see them, as I have, in the short houi
of tranquil twilight, when the sky as
slines a faint golden tdne, when thi
great smooth sheet of water is of th
iname rich color, and stretches away to
wards the horizon of the broad lake
like Congo where it melts indistinguish
ably into tle warm sky, then you ma3
see the elephants walking out in Indiar
file from the sheltering forests into tiy
shallow parts of the river, where they
disturb the perfect calm of its reflected
gold with many ripples, looking like
blue scratches on its sur face. Here, if
you are not too near, you may see then
squirt streams of water over their dry
heated skins, and observe the motho
elephant carefully accompanying hei
young one during the bath. But ordi
narily it is at night time, and, above all
when there is a moon, that the ele
phants come down to drink and bathe
Moreover, they are much more com
monly seen on the Congo during th
dry season, as then the many little for
est brooks are likely to be dried up, aml
the elephants are compollec to ineu
greater publicity in their bath by seek
ing the great Congo.
* * * * * *
Hippopotami are often a source o
danger to native canoes, as they folloN
them at times ant upset them by ajer
of their huge ieads underneath. O0
o01e occasion .I had a personal experi
ence of their spite or their ill-timed play
whichever it, may have been. I was de
sceiding the Congo in one native canoe
and in another was soei of my luggage
The first canoe, in which I was seated
with three Zanzibaris paddling, roun
ded a little promontory somnewinat ab
ruptly, and cane suddenly oi a grou
of hiippop~otami sunnminig thiemiselvosil la
the bank. Three of them deiboratel'
gave chase to the canoe, and for somi
Limae ran uis perilously hard, keeping u]
within a few feet of the boat, and onl2
occatsionally showing their nostrils aboy
water. At last they found that a steri
chase was a long cnase. and desistud
turning about and endeavoring to at
tack the baggage canoe, which was fo:
lowing. For a moment I feared for in
luggage, but the natives who wor
paddling managed cleverly to elude tLi
iippos, and put out into the middle u
the Congo. Here the river horses dc
clined to follow, for I have observe
they have a strong objection to swin
ming far out of their depth, and more
over, would find it hard to resist bein
carried away by the furious curreti
that races down the middle of tli
strean. You may also Le sure of avoit
ing a chase by hippopotami if you ste1
your canoe towards the centre of thi
Congo; but then, en reanche. you ai
likely to get into one of the many whir
pools and be upset, s.> it is rather a ca
of "out of the frying-pan into the fire.
What keeps the hippopotami from gan
bolling in the middle of the river is a
equally serious deterrent to canoe tra
vehlers. As for this great amp~hiibial
he prefers, in tihe dlaytimne, to froetir
those large submerged sanidbainks th;
are so common in the Congo.
A letter from on board the trainit
schioolship St. Mary's, at Newv Londoi
says: The past twvo mont11s have bee
busy ones for tile gradmiuting boys, wh
have bein constantly occupied in pr
paring themselves for the ordeal of tl:
coming examinatin. They have bee
hard at work preparing specimens<
their skill in the use of the marling
pike, and palm, and needle. Navigm
tion has also hail a large share of the
attention, and they begin to feel then
selves capable of navigating a ship t
any part of world and under' all circun
stances. Tis year the boys have bet
divided in a manner different from ti
rule heretofore followed, that is, th
first and seconld divisions are compost
of the graduating class and those of tI
new boys who have merited the' hion
by their behavior and application du:
in~g the cruise, so that the new boys th
year have h~ad the same chances<
learning that the olboys have had, am
next year the graduating class wvil
without doubt, be an exceptionably fiu
one0. About three weeks ago we le
New London for a short cruise to bre;
the monotony of the harbor routine at
first visited Gardiner's bay, which lit
to the eastward of Long Island, an
where we remained for three days, J
Is rather a desolate place, about te
miles from Greenport. The only lhou:
in sight from the ship1 was at the ligh
house, about two miles distant. Unii
lng our stay the weather was any thir
but pleasanmt, as it rained most of ti
time, and that, with tihe fog, made:
very disagreeable. From Gardiner
bay we wvent to Newport, Rt. L WV
remnainedi there only thtres or four day;
and most of us were glad to return I
New London. After returning instea
of anchoring off the Pequot house, a
usual, we came up and dropped ancho
off Fort Trumbull, which is much mor
convenient for commnunicating wit
thme city and is much pleasanter in ever
We "turn out" at sIx o'clock in th:
morning and immediately go to wor
scrubbing clothes, after whmich on
watch washes the spar deck, while th
other watch cleans the gun deck. I
this way the time before breakfast:
occupied. At eight o'clock swe ha,
b)reakfast, after which we prepaze f(
inspection, which takes place at hal
past nine, Immediatolv afte Insne
tion we go to our studies and exercises,
which continue until half-past 11. For
3 school and exercise the boys are separ
s ated into four divisions; the first and
r second are composed of the boys of the
,graduating class and such of the new
oys as have merited the honor of being
advanced; the third and fourth sections
; are composed of the new boys or those
who have made only one cruise. The
I instruction consists of navigation, sail
making, knotting and splicing, hand
ling sails and exercise with the boats in
rowing and sailing. At noon we have
i dinner, from which time until half-past
one no work is done except by those
a whose turn it is to clean the mess gear.
i At half-past one school begins again and
continues until three, when it is closed
for the day, and from then until supper,
which we have at six o'clock, the boys
tare allowed to go away in the boats,
i rowing or sailing, wherever they please.
After supper the boats are hoisted, and
then the time is our own until hammocks
are piped down at nine o'clock.
Pnotography appears to be running a
race with elootrioity in curious develop
monte and novel applications. Rook
wood, the well knwn Now York photo
grapher, has just achieved the remark
able teat of photographing sound waves
instantaneously. The instrument by
which the sound wave was represented,
or '"made visible in its effect, is s now
telephone, the inventor of which has ob
tainel from Mr. Rookwood a perfect
ooular demonstration of its vocal repeat
ting action. The vibrating diaphragm,
upon which the voice is projected, has a
fine metallio point mounted on the
centre of its reverse side. This point
moots the pointed end of a conducting
wiro so nearly that when at rest the
intorval betwen the two points can be
discovered only through a strong lens.
The thing to be do.-e was to show in a
picture 01 the instrument, or rather in a
series of picturos, the atornato contuct
r and separation of points from the vibra
lions inmparted to the diaphragm by the
voice, involving th closing and open
ing of the electrical circuit and tho eon
sequont reproduction of the mame rate
of viuration in the receiving mstrument
at the other end of the lino. In con
sittoring this4 problem Mr. Rooitwood
found himself indebted to his recollec
tion of an experiment by Herschel in
photographing (or daguerrootyping)
with th oleo rio spark. Herschel caused
a four-aided prism of wood, around
r which a picture was pasted, to revolvent
high speed in a turning lathe. By illu
mauuntiUg this rvolving picture with the
electric spark (in total darku3s other
wi3e) he obtaiued a photograph of it as
e standing still at that instant in its rovo
lution when the spark ih shod,
Mr. ihokwood carofully focused his
photographio camera on the points or
the telophone by daylight, and a battery
y of Loyden jars was so adjusted that
e when discharged it would throw the
o proper illuminatton on the points. Mr.
r Rookwood's instantaneous plates were
now to be tested under action some five
i hundred times quicker than a sensible
instant and invisibly minuto. Of course
it was as yet a practical question
g whether they could ofootively receive
t as quickly as the elootrio spark would
e give this infinitesimal action of light.
!- Wiaiting until the darkest Dour of the
r night, the plate was uncovered in total
e darkness, lho telephonis began speak
-e ing into his instrument, and the iliumi
1- nating spark was flashed upon the points
c desired. This operation was repeated
" with more than twenty plates in sucees.
a.- sion. The resulting negatives, on being
ni developed, proved a trimpth in two
-arts and a science. The photographs
u, printed from them showed under the
Lt glass, in some, centioct of the points and
,t in other.s a vairiety of inliuitestmnally
duronced intervals bet weeni
them. Not one of th impressions had
more than the one twenty-four thou
sandthof a secondl in which to be begun
g and ended.
te On Septemnber 2, Mr. Samuel Drey
n f us of Mlemphis, for niany years deputy
)f sheriff in charge of the criminal court,
5- dhied at his residenice in that city of anl
L- affection of tic lungs. On the 5th of
ir September one of his sons visited Dr.
1- Goodyear aiid inquired if his father had
o left any private pap~ers with him, as It
1- was wvell known that the dleceased had
ni been a member of several benevolent
*e institutions in Memphis, and a look
te over those papers found at home re
d vealed but onb policy on his life, and
ie that was in the order of the Knights
ir and Ladies of Ihonor. It was kno wn to
r- his family and relatives that hie had left
is policies ini other organuizations of a simi
>f lar character to the amount of $t0,000.
d Dr. Goodyear1 wvho had been on inti
1, mate terms with the deceased, dId not
te remember of his having left any papers
ft with him, biut, to be0 certain, caretully
.k examninedI the contents of his sate, but
d failed to find anay. Mr. Ben K. Pullen
3s formerly chief clerk in the shoriff's of:
d flee, was also questionied by the son of
~t the dleceasedl, but he, too, (lid not ro
in member of any papers being left in his
me care. Three dlays after ward the brother.
b- in-law of the deceased called on Dr.
-Goodyear and made the same statement,
g regarding the missing policies as had
ic the son. Aniothuer search wvas made,
it but it, too, provedi fruitless. A few
's days after, so relates Mr. Ben K. Pul
e lon, lie fell asleep in his oflice and
m, dreamed that Sam Dreyfus appeared be
o fore him aind asked: "What had become
d of his p~apers which lie had given him
.s while in charge of the sherifi's oumce?"
r lie answered: "They are safe whore I
e placed them," and, suddenly awaken
Ii ing, p~rocceeded at once to the sheritf's
y ofllce, which is on the floor above, and
founid the missing-package intact, wvhere
e he had placed it many months ago. The
kC package was Without delay turned over
e to the family of the deceased, and in it
e were the missing policies.
aRmLassURIN~G: Steuc man--"What I a
~e Ilady physician ? I want a doctor, to
~r Imake mae well--not a woman, to make
r.. Ilove to me." Woman physician (bash.
~. full)-,-"I nroamas n to d an i-k-.
BUY THE BEST[
MI. J. 0. BoAo--Dear Sir: I bougtit the first
Davis Machine sold by you over fve years ago for
my wife who has given It a long and fair trial. I
am well pleased with it. It never gives any
rouble, and is as good as when first bought.
Winnsboro, 8. C., April 1883.
Mr. BoAG: Ion wish to know what I have to say
in regard to the Davis Machine bought of You three
ears ago. I feel I can't say too much in is favor.
made about $80,00 within five months, at times
running it so fast that the needle would get per
fectl hot from friction. I feel confident I could
not hve done the same work with as much ease
and so well with any other machine. No time lost
in adjusting attachments. Tho lightest runnin
machine I have ever treadled. Brother Jatnes an?
Williams' families are as much pleased with their
Davis Machines bought or you. I want no better
machine. As I said before, I don't think too
much can be said for the Davis Machine.
Fairfldid County, April, 1883.
MR. BOAO: My macnino gives me perrect satis
faction. I find no fault witi it. The attachments
are so sim1le. i wish for no better than the Davis
MRS. It. MILLIXG.
Fairfield county, April, 1883.
. M I. BOAU: I oougnt a lavis Vertical Feed
w ing Machine from yon four years ago. I am
lighted with It. It never has given me any
o utile, and has never been the least out of order.
It is as good as when I first bought it. I can
cheerfully recommend it.
Mits, M. J. KIRKLAND.
Monticello, April 80, 1883.
This is to certity that I have been using a Davis
Vertical Feed Sewing Machine for over two years,
purchased of Mr. .J. t. itoag. I haven't found it
pl)sesset of any fault-all the attachments are so
sim pie. It, never tfuses to work, and i ceortatinly
the ightest running in the market. I conalder It
a lirst-class inachine.
MINNIIE M. WILLINOHAM.
Oakland, Falrileld county, 8. C.
Mn bOAU: i n wen ytcasert in every particu
wit h the Davis Machine nought of you. Ithink
a flrst-class machine in every respect. You know
you sold several machines of th same make to
ditferent members of our families, all of whom,
as far as I know, are well pleased with themn.
MRS. M. ii. MoBLRv.
Fairileld county, April, 1883.
ThIs 1. to cortIry wO have-jial In constant ts
the Davis atachino bought of you about three years
ago. As we take in work, and have made the
price of it several tiues over, we don't want any
bettor machine. Itls always ready todo any kind
of work we nave to (10. No puckeringor skipping
stitches. We can only say we are well please
ancu wish no better machine,
CATHEInNE WYI.IR AND SIsTE t.
April 25, iSSi.
I have no 1ault, to hnd witt ny macine, and
don't want iiay better. I have mdedo the prico of
it severa. times by taking in 0swimg. It is always
ready to do Its worm. I I muk it a Ilrslclass ma
chino. I feel I can't say too much for lhe Davli
Vertical Feed Machine.
Mits. THiOMAs SUTI.
Fairtield cointy, April,.1883.
MR. J. 0. BSOAO-Dear Sir: it gives lite much
pleasure to testify to the merits of the Davis Ver
tical Feed Sewing Machine. The machine I got of
you about five years ago. has been almost in con
stant use ever since that lime. I cannot see that
It is worn any, and has not cost me one cent for
rep~airs since we have hadl it. Am well pleasort
and don't wish for any better.
GJranaite Quarry, near Winnsboro S. C.
Wc have used the D~avis Vurticat Feed Sewing
Machine for the last five years. WVo would not
Save anly oilher miake at any price. The mlachmoe
has given tus unboundoct satisfaction.
Mae. W. K. TUnNsis AND DAUOnlT~lsj
Fairfield county,8S. C., Jan. 27, 1883.
hlavmng bought a Davis Vertical Feed Sewing
Macline from Mr. J. 0. lunig some three years
ago, andi it having giveni me perfect satisfaction in
every respfect, as a ramnily machine, bioth for hoavy
and lighmteewwing, and niever needed the least re
pair in any way, I can cheerfully recommendtit 111
any one as a flrst-chass mnachinec In every partica
lar, andi think it aecondi to none. It, Is une of the
simplest machines made; miy chiildren use it with
all case. The attachments are more easily ad
justed andl 1t doos a greater range of work by
means of its Vertical Leod than ainy other ma
chine I have ever seen or used.
Mate. TnlostAs OwINGs.
Wiunsboro, Fairfild cotunty, S. C.
We have had one of the Davis Machines about
four years andi have always found it ready to do asJ
kinds of work we have hal occasion to to. Can't
see that the machine is worn any, and works as
well as when new,
Mas. W. J. CaAwgonp,
Jackson's Creek, JFairfld county, 8.'0.
My wife is highly pleased with the Davis Ma.
chine bought of you. She would not lake double
witat an gave for it. 'Thie machine has not
been out of order since she had it, and she can (1o
tnny kind of Work on it.
8A. F. Fae.
Monticello, Fairfieldl county, 8. C.
Th'ie Davis Sewlhg Machine is simply a reas.
ti'.f Mite. J. A. G.OODwTN.
lIitdge way, N. C., Jan. 10, 1e83.
., ( BOACJ, Esq., Agnt-Dear Sir: My wife
has neon using a Jiav Sewing Machine constant
ly for the past four years, and it has nover needed
any repairi an.i works just as well as when first
bought. She says it wvili (10 a greater range of
practikal work tend (10 it easier andi better than
any machine she nas ever used. We cheerfulLy
recolnmend it as a No. 1 family machine,
JAB. Q. DAVIS.
Winnaboro, 8. C., Jan. 8, 1888.
Min. BoAG: I have always found my Davis Ma.
chine ready do alt kinds of to work I have had 0o
easion lo de. I cannot see that the machine is
worn a particle and it works as wemi as when new.
MsRS. tC, GooDIxe.
Winnaboro, S. C., April,188e, .
Ms. Boto : My wife has been cOnstantly using
the Davis Machine bought of yon about live years
ago. I have never regretted buih it, as it is
always read for any kind of famy sw ng, either
ntea orlgt. Itles never out of or needing
Fairlield, 8, 0,, March, 1888,