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Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, April 10, 1889, Image 1

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lewis m. grist, Proprietor.! Jndepciutent ^milp lleirspaper: <J|br the promotion of the political, jsocial, Agricultural and Commercial Jnterests of the ?outh. ]TERMS?$2.00 A YEAR IN ADVANCE.
VOL 35. YOEKVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, APRIL lO, 1889. ISTO 15.
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Selected factrn.
A MOTHER'S IiOVE.
4 Some day,
Wheu others braid your thick brown hair,
And drape your form in silk and lace,
When others call yon "dear" and "fair,"
And bold your hands and kiss your face,
You'll not forget that far above
All other is a mother's love.
Some day,
'Mong strangers in far distant lands,
In your new home beyond the sea,
When at your lips are baby hands,
And children playing at your knee?
O than, as at your side they grow.
How I have loved you will know !.
Some day,
When you must feel love's heavy loss,
You will remember other years,
When I, too, bent beueath the cross,
And mix my memory with thy tears.
In such dark hours be not afraid;
Within their shadow I have prayed.
Some day,
Your daughter's voice, or smile, or eyes
My face will suddenly recall;
Then vou will smile in sweet surprise,
Ana your soul unto mine will call
In that dear, unforgotten prayer,
Which we at evening used to share.
Some day,
A flower, a song, a word may be
A link between us strong and sweet;
Ah, then, dear child, remember me!
And let your heart to "mother" beat.
My love is with you everywhere?
Yon cannot get beyond my prayer.
Some day,
At longest it cannot be long,
I shall with glad impatience wait,
Amid the glory and the song,
For you before the Golden Gate.
After earth's parting and earth's pain,
Never to part! Never again !
Ihe Jftm Seller.
THE POISONED PHIAL
> ' A LEAP FROM A PHYSICIAN'S DIARY.
In the spring of 1847 I settled in Lancaster.
The old physiciftn of that place had
been removed by death, and several of my
friends were anxious that I should come
in. The opportunity was an excellent one,
and I embraced It; arid when I had been
there a year I had a practice far better and
more extensive than I had ever before enJoyed.
Among those who became my
warm personal friends were Frederic
Lawson and his wife; and their friendship
was worth having. Mr. Lawson was over
seventy years of age, a hale, hearty old
man ; and his wife was the very picture of
health and comfort. He was the wealthiest
1 man in town, being worth over a hundred
thousand dollars, and he was one of the
most valuable citizens, too. Both he and
his wife gave nie their friendship very
soon after I took up my residence with
them, and this circumstance helped me
much in other quarters.
One day in the early part of September I
received a request to attend at Mr. Lawson's
without delay. It was in the after
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gentleman and his wife both sick. They
had been taken, just before noon, with
cramps and chills; but they were much
easier when I arrived than they were when
they sent for me. I saw that their stomachs
were out of order; and as I knew that
they both were pretty high livers, I was
not at all surprised. I gave simple emetics,
with some other medications, and left
them, promising to call again in the
morning.
In the morning I found them no better
than they had been the day before. They
fancied that they were much better, be-,
cause they suffered no pain^but I could see
that they were really sfck. After a' careful
examination, I came to the conclusion that
I had got to guard against fever, and I
gave the nurse directions with that understanding.
This nurse was named Margaret Allen.
She was a peculiar person, though, on the
whole, rather pretty. She was of medium
height, with light bown hair, grayish blue
eyes, and her face, with its finely cut features,
pale and thin. She spoke but little,
seeming to shun much society; and when
she did speak her voice was low and sad,
as though her whole being had been darkened
by some calamity that still weighed
upon her. She had been in Mrs. Lawson's
employ something over a month. She
had represented herself as an orphan, without
relations or friends, seeking some
quiet retreat where, in return for faithful
labors, she could have a quiet, peaceful
home. Both Mrs. Lawson and her husband
had taken a deep interest in her; and
her modest, unassuming manners, and her
Willingness to obey, had so won upon
them that they now placed in her the most
unbounded confidence.
To Margaret Allen I gave my directions,
and she promised to obey me faithfully.
For six days I attended upon my aged
patients. There was no fever set in, and
yet they were growing weaker every day.
Another week passed, and the sick ones
were surely failing. There was nothing
remarkable about the progress of the dis
ease, for it worked just"as I might suppose
that such a malady would work. There
was only one thing that troubled me, and
that was the peculiar manner in which
they had been taken. However, that was
Sast and gone, and I could only say it so
appened, and there leave it.
It was Monday morning again, and Mr.
Lawson asked me if I thought he would
live.
I sat down and told him just what I
thought. He might live for some timeperhaps
for several weeks?it might be for
months?but I did not think he would
recover. And then told him that if he
wished to make a will, he had better do so
without much delav.
"No," said he, "f have no will to make.
I have no children of my own, and my
property, if my wife and I both die, will
go to my brother's family. I had one
child?a daughter. She was a precious
child to me, and yet she struck me a heavy
blow. I had a servant named Steinburg,?
a shrewd, unprincipled fellow, with an exterior
polished ana comely. He won my
daughter's love, and she ran away with
him, and married him. 1 did not discard
her?I tried to have her come and live
with me; but she would not leave her husband.
I could not have him beneath my
roof, for he was a villain. At the expiration
of a few years Steinburg died, leaving
his wife with one child?a son. I then
took my daughter and her boy home, and
ere many years she died. The boy turned
out worse than his father; six years ago
I received the news of his death. He died
at Calcutta, and the captain of his ship
wrote to me that his body had been decently
buried. I breathed more freely
after that, for it took away the necessity of
making a will iust for the purpose of disinheriting
my heir, which I should have
been forced to do had William Steinburg
lived."
It was three days after this?on Friday?
iiiiiv iu? nuopiv. iuna ui ? n,11h
liegan to oppress ine. On this Friday
morning I found the old man more feeble
than he had been before, and while I was
with him he had a spell of vomiting.
The matter ejected from his stomach had
a peculiar look, and I asked what he had
been taking. He said he had taken nothing
but his resting powders. I took some
of the matter away with me, and before
noon I had submitted it to a chemical
test which betrayed the presence of poison!
There was arsenic; but the arsenic was not
alone. It was a prepared poison?a compound
formed to destroy life without givt
ing token of its presence. In this case it
was evident that an over-dose had been
administered.
If po ison had been administered, who
had done it? That was the question. Of
course my thoughts were first turned upon
Margaret Allen, and my suspicions rested
there, too. I could not imagine any cause
which the nurse could have for such a
deed; but I could not but feel that circumstances
pointed her out as the only one
who hau an opportunity to do it.
As soon as I nad made a careful analysis
of the contents of my phial I returned
to Lawson's house, and made a change
in his medicine. There was a boy in the
family?a little fellow some thirteen years
of a?e?a son of the cook?whom I felt
that I could trust. He was bright as a
lark, and I knew that behoved Mr. Law
son. I called him out into the garden,
and asked if he would like to help me
serve his master; and, furthermore, if he
could keep his own jcounsel, even from his
mother. I was not disappointed. I knew
from his manner of reply that I might depend
upon him. I asked him what he
thought of Margaret Allen.
lie said he didn't like her. And the
little fellow shook his head. He felt more
than he could explain.
I then told him that I wanted him to
watch Margaret Allen in every possible
way. I wanted to know everything she
did?only she must not know that he
was near her. He promised to do the best
he could and I then dismissed him.
That evening I was with my patient at
9 o'clock and with my own hand gave the
medicine. I told them I was going to
try a new course, and I wanted them to
take nothing more till morning. In the
morning I was there again, and met the
boy in tne garden.
"Had he watched Margaret Allen ?"
"Yes?he had watcneu ner very mirrowly."
"Had she given the sick people any
medicine?"
"He had not seen anything of the kind."
"Have you seen anything out of the
way ?" I asked.
"I don't know hs there was anything out
of the way," he replied; "but I saw something
this morning that looked funny."
"Ah?what was it?"
"I went up and watched at her door, and
when I peeped through the key hole I saw
her shaving herself?shaving with a razor
?just like a man."
Shaving herself.
I had it now. Now I believed I had a
clew to the secret of Margaret Allen's
strange look.
Shaving with a razor?just like man !
Was not that it?
I thanked the boy for his information,
and having cautioned him to keen quiet,
and promised him that he should lie rewarded
for his services, I dismissed him.
When I went up stairs I found Mr. l^awson
very weak, but not in much pain.
After some remarks upon general tonics, I
introduced the name of Margaret Allen. I
asked him if he had ever noticed anything
peculiar about her.
"Yes," he said ; "and that may be one
reason why I have been drawn towards
her. She looks as my daughter used to
look."
"Your daughter never had a daughter?"
"No?only one child?William."
"And you are sure William is dead?"
"Certainly."
"How do you know?"
"Why, the captain of the ship in which
he sailed wrote me to that effect."
"Did it never occur to you that William
Steinburg might have written that letter
himself?"
"No. Such a thing never entered my
mind. But what do you mean ?"
"I'll tell you to-morrow," said I. "I am
in a hurry now."
I got away from him as easy as possible,
and then went back to my own dwelling,
where I took one of my pistols and carefully
Jloaded it; and thus armed, I returned
to the home of my patients. In all
probability the reader sees the drift of my
suspicion. It is enough for me to say that
that susicion amounted almost to a moral
certainty. When I reached the house I
called to the coachman and the groom to
come and help me; and when I had made
them understand what was to be done,
they were eager enough to lend their assistance.
The nurse was in her chamber. I went
up, and the two stout men followed me.
Tney waited upon the outside, while I entered
the room. Nurse was sitting by a
window reading.
"Sir! What means this intrusion?"
There was a start; but not the start of a
virtuous woman. No, no, far from it.
"Easy," said I, leaving the door iqar
behind me. "William Steinburg, you
have run the length of your rope!"
It was too much for human nerve?too
much, because it had not been expected.
Nurse gasped and quivered and turned
pale?then leaped to a drawer, and drew
out a pistol.
"Hold!" My pistol was cocked, and
pointing directly at his head. "You see I
am prepared."
He had exposed himself, and he knew
it; and his next movement was calculated
to distract my attention. Whether he
hoped to escape, or whether he aimed at
my life, I coulu not tell; and it made little
difference, for I had but one course to pursue.
I allied for my companions, ana by
the time the nurse was secured there was
110 doubt remaining touching the sex. In
short, the groom and the coachman both,
as soon as they thus gained the clew, knew
William Stein burg well enough. They
tore off his disguise?ripped the female
garb from his person?and then, when he
could no longer hide himself, he sank into
sullen silence. I saw him in a place of
safety, with a stout guard over him, and
then I went to see Mr. Lawson.
I believed it would do my patient good
to tell him the story of my discovery, since
I could now give him hopes of recovery;
and accordingly I told him all. He was
not startled, as I expected to see him.
Viotto fhic " Imtuiirl sfhiitino1
X J1U V c OU.^V V IVU 1111^1 *IV
his head.
"Since when ?" 1 asked.
"Since you sjjoke to nie before. Your
remarks opened my eyes. I was prepared
for this. \v illiam has been poisoning me?"
"Yes."
"Do you think you can cure me?"
"Yes?I hope so. We will go at it at
once, and the result will be apparent in a
very few days. And in the meantime
what shall be done with our prisoner?"
"Let him l>e safely guarded to-night, and
we will consult about that to-morrow."
That very evening I was satisfied that I
could arrest the work of the poison that
had been given, and so I told Mr. Lawson.
I did not speak with his wife upon the
subject, leaving him to do that himself.
On the following morning Mr. Lawson
told me that William Steinburg had gone.
"Don't be astonished," he said. "1 sent
him off myself. He confessed his whole
crime, and 1 let him go."
And then the old man told me the story :
"I sent fbr him, and he came to my room ;
and when I made him understand that I
should not seek revenge upon him, he
confessed the whole. He had fabricated
the story of his own death for the simple
purpose of putting me off my guard, and
also with the thought that it might prevent
his being mentioned in mv will in
the shape of disinheritance, lie knew
that, as the offspring of my only child, he
was heir to my property, and with that
idea he has worked. Being small of frame,
and of a peculiarly delicate skin, he took
the notion of assuming the disguise of a
female, and getting into my employ; after
which he meant to poison both myself and
wife in such a manner that people should
think we died from ordinary disease, lie
told me that he had the recipe for the poison
from an old Indian, and that if lie had
not been careless in giving it, his secret
would never have been discovered. He
said he would leave the country if I would
let him go, and I could not refuse. He was
the son of my only daughter, and 1 would
not see him suffer a felon's doom. I do
not believe he will ever trouble me again."
On the whole, I did not blame my friend
for what he had done, and so I finally told
him. He had learned how the poison had
been compounded, and when I knew the
secret I knew how to apply the antidote.
Within a month both Mr. Lawson and his
wife were well again ; and, as may be supposed,
their feelings towards me had not
grown colli.
About a year after that we heard that
Willi,m?i Sifoinhiirtr jrmir to California.
T * ?*? ** *? ' 'v% n ?? i-? ?
He was keeping a'gambling house in San
Francisco. In another year he w;is dead.
It was no deception this time, lie was
shot in a street row, and a friend of mine,
who happened to he there, wrote me the
particulars.
Brought Them out in Sections.?
One of of our county physicians, who lives
at Tazewell, was called to see a very tall
gentleman who lives in the neighborhood
of Brantly, and who was sick with the
measles. On account of the exceeding
height of the man the doctor advised him
to paint a ring around his body with iodine
anil he would proceed to bring the measles
out on him ope end at a time, as it would
be impossible to accomplish the whole job
at once. Our informant states that the
ring was drawn and the measles brought
out in sections.?f Buena Vista (Georgia)
Patriot.
IpsrcHflttWttS! jftratlittg.
MEN WHO HATE WOMEN.
"Women haters? Plenty of them !"
A Journal reporter had meta well known
physician in an uptown cafe and interrupted
a conversation that the doctor was
holding with a friend over a cigar and a
bottle of claret. He spoke easily and with
confidence that he knew his subject.
To hate a woman, especially one of the
dainty loving kind, upon whose glances
men hang enthralled, or for whose kindly
glances men would sacrifice their souls,
seemed incredible. Perish the thought!
And yet the visitor's mind brought into
remembrance cases in which men had
sworn they hated women, only to be caj)
I tured and but in bondage ny a pair 01 origin
[ eyes.
The physician struck a fresh match and
watched the smoke from his cigar curl
lazily upward as he related a few strange
incidents that had come under his obser- .
vation professionally.
THE STORY TOLD BY HOLMES.
"One case that I recall," said the doctor,
"was that of a German, a member of all
the musical societies, who late in life acquired
and betrayed an intense hatred of
all women. He had been happily married,
and no one suspected him of this new feeling
that began to creep over him and destroy
the love he had felt for his wife and
the respect for his mother.
"He struggled against it and fought it,
but it was no use, and the disease, if such
it may be called, began to show itself to
his family and friends, and an instant estrangement
from his wife was the result.
He ran away from his home and was finally
returned hopelessly insane.
"Now," concluded the doctor, "there
was a man who was a woman hater, only
he did not know it because he was insane.
The physicians had diagnosed his case
aright."
The conversation turned then on a case
that had been mentioned by Oliver Wendell
Holmes in his book. A very young
boy had been left in charge of a nurse, and
she had suddenly gone insane. In her
maniacal frenzy she tried to strangle her
innocent charge, and only desisted when
she thought sne had succeeded in her object.
Then she killed hen>elf with a razor,
which left her a most shocking sight. The
boy revived, and the first thing his eyes
fell upon was the corpse.
From that day throughout his childhood
and up to the day of his death, the
sight of a woman was enough to throw him
into convulsions. His nurses were men,
and his family thought it best to seclude
him. No woman ever entered his apartments,
but all the work of taking care of
him developed upon men. He died in
those rooms.
"Yes, that is very strange," said the physician,
meditatively. "But I think I know
of one nearly as remarkable," and he went
on to relate the following:
"In the spring of '81 I was called in by
a prominent banker to attend to his son,
who had suddenly become afflicted with a
strange state of mind, which proved to be
a hatred of women. This his family
could not understand, as he had always
been a leader in social events and fond of
ladies' society.
1 1UU11U Uir ^UUI^ 1C11U >V O VWi.oviWMv.v.t
very much run down, and made him admit
that he was a victim of the opium
habit. He also confessed to me an adventure
that had happened to him, but which
I will not repeat, as it is too long, in which
he was scared nearly out of his wits by a
woman.
"It was easy enough for me to see that
unless the impression caught and retained
by his mind in an enfeebled state could be
removed, he would remain a woman hater
all his life.."
"Was it ever removed, doctor?" asked
one of the listners.
1 "Never," was the answer, and the party
lapsed into silence for a moment.
THEY ANNOYKI) HIM.
A diversion was caused by the waiter's
removal of an empty bottle and the substitution
of a fresh one, and the conversation
was resumed.
"Tell us another, doctor, insinuated the
newspaper man.
"I could tell you several more, but
would have to do so briefly, as a patient is
waiting for me," he responded. "I recollect
a gentleman who stood very high in
all affairs connected with education in
New York, lie, too, was a, woman hater.
As his opinion on school affairs was considered
valuable, many teachers, especially
ladies, used to run to him for advice, but
as he was deeply engaged in study their
calls were a source of annoyance to him
and irritated him into the state of mind
that I have mentioned.
"He was a bachelor, but lie finally discharged
all woman servants, substituting
men. And orders were given that no
woman should be allowed to set foot within
his doors. He had often told me that
women had prevented his re-aching the
highest rounds of science and that l#e
could never regain the time lost.
"I knew another case where a man entrusted
his entire fortune to a woman and
she made way with it and made a woman
hater out of him. He would never address
one.
"But," concluded the doctor, impressively,
"I think that designing mothers are
responsible for many of the woman haters,as
they frequently prevent their daughters
from marrying the men of their choice,
and when a girl deserts the man she
loves and marries another, it is very apt to
do mental injury to the first."?[New York
Journal.
JAMES GOUDUN BENNETT.
The new York Herald is a paper with a
history. Fifty-two years ago the Herald
office was a cellar in Wall Street, and its
only furniture a chair and a desk made by
planks placed across the ends of two flour
barrels. Seated at this rough desk might
be seen a tall, spare man of about forty
years of age, so busily engaged that when
a customer dropped in to purchase a paper
he would not even lift his eyes from bis
work as he said, "Take one from that pile
and put your penny on the counter."
This was the birthplace of the Herald,
and the man at the desk who was its founder
and proprietor, its editor and reporter,
its clerk and book-keeper in one, was
James Gordon Bennett, the elder.
He was a remarkable man, perhaps the
most remarkable in the whole history of
American journalism. Born in 1797, near
the village of Keith, in Banffshire, Scotland,
where bis parents, who were French
Catholics, had settled, he was educated in
a convent at Aberdeen, and grew into a
romantic ambitious youth. Scott and Byron
were his chief delight, and he tried in
vain to wm lame uy nis own poems, j iappeningto
read Benjamin Franklin's autobiography,
lie was fired with admiration
for the printer and statesman, and resolved
to visit his native land.
J lis first experience of America was a
harsh one. He nearly starved before he
found employment in a Boston publishing
house. Then he gradually made his
way up, working for the Charleston Courier,
the National Advertiser of New York,
and other papers. As editor of tin? Courier
and Enquirer of the latter city, he gained
for it the foremost rank among the journals
of the day ; hut disapproving of the
political course of its proprietor, he threw
up his position, and determined to start an
independent venture. Two unsuccessful
attempts made him poorer hut wiser, hefore
he got two printers to help him, and
began to issue the Herald on the (>th of
May, Ik.'io. It was a tiny sheet at first,
full of paragraphs printed in small type,
with pithy editorials and a wonderful
amount of news. At its price of one cent
it sold well, hut to place it on a sure basis
of profit was indeed a difficult and anxious
task.
Mr. Bennett labored sixteen hours a day.
From five o'clock in the morning he wrote
editorials in his bed room ; the forenoon he
spent in the cellar in Wall Street, engaged
in routine work, writing, taking in advertisements,
and composing them for illiterate
advertisers. At one o'clock he
went out upon the street, picking up the
news and material for his money article
and reports; from four to six he would he
found at the office again, winding up the
day's business; and in the evening he
would attend the theatres, concerts, or public
meetings, and write them up for the
Herald.
In the new paper's fourth month of existence
its office and stock were destroyed
by fire. The unterrified proprietor "raked
the Herald out of the ashes," to use his own
expression, and went to work as hard as
ever.
And gradually the Herald's well-earned
success was realized. The first year was
the most trying. Then its price was doubled
and its news service rapidly improved
and extended. During the Mexican war,'
the Herald gave intelligence of the battles;
and lists of the killed and wounded, nor
only in advance of other papers, but before
the official reports were received at Washington.
This was accomplished by means
of a ppecial system of carrier pigeons and
pony expresses.
When the civil war broke out, Mr. Bennett
organized a wonderfully complete
newsgathering service, a Herald tent and
a Herald wagon accompanying every army'
corps; and, though the enterprise cost half
a million dollars, it was a wise one, and
proveu a pronuuae investment.
Jt was about this time that Mr. Bennett
took his son, the present proprietor of the
Herald, into his office, and gave him a
'thorough journalistic training. He was an
apt pupil, and when his father died, on the
1st of June, 1872, James Gordon Bennett
the younger was quite ready to fill his
place.
From that time he has presided over the
Herald's fortunes, and, aided by a brilliant
editorial staff, he has maintained it as an
immensely valuable property, and as the
most widely read of American newspapers.
With an apparent indifference to
business affairs, he combines great journalistic
ability, and an intimate knowledge of
the details of the establishment of which
he is the head.
He is even more enterprising than his
father, but does not possess his wonderful
pertinacity and steadiness of purpose. Had
ne not been born to millions, he would no
doubt have made for himself a great career.
A few incidents will illustrate some traits
in his character. The story has often been
told how, when all the world was talking
of the mysterious fate of the famous explorer
Livingstone, lost in the African
wilds, Mr. Bennett resolved to dispatch
Stanley to solve the problem.
Mr. Stanley, to give his own account of,
the matter, was at Madridj on the 16th of
October, J869, wlren he received a telegram
from Mr. Bennett in Paris, and hastened
thither. Arrived at Mr. Bennett's hotel,
he found him in bed, but was admitted.
"Who are you ?" asked the editor of the
Herald.
"My name is Stanley," was the reply.
"Ah, yes, sit down. I have important
business on hand for you. Where do you
think Livingstone is?"
"I really do not know, sir."
"Do you think he is alive?"
"He may be, and he may not be."
"Well, I think he is alive, and that he
can be found, and I am going to send you
to find him. Of course you will act according
to your own plans, and do what
you think best?but find Livingstone/"
And with this commission Stanley started
off on bis memorable journey, which
cost Mr. Bennett many thousands of dollars,
but added, greatly to the Herald's
renown.
Another of Mr. Bennett's enterprises was
the ill fated Jeannette expedition in search
of the North Pole. He has never shrunk
from expense, where it would make the
Herald great, nor in his private generosity.
Jie {rave princely contributions ?> n*ueve
the distress caused by the panic of 1873,
and to the starving peasants of Ireland
during the famine in that country.
Mention must be made of Mr. Bennett's
Atlantic cable. Dissatisfied with the service
of the existing companies, he resolved
to have a submarine wire of his own, and
joined Senator Mackay in laying the Commercial
Cable, which has increased the
Herald's facilities, and has given the public
the benefit of competition and lower rates.
Mi*. Bennett is an enthusastic yatchman,
and showed his grit in crossing the Atlantic
aboard his own boat, the Henrietta, in
the first ocean race, sailed in December,
ISM, when such a thing was deemed so
foolhardy, that most of his crew deserted
the night before the start. His yacht, the
Namouna, is a magnificent steamer, among
the finest of her class afloat.
Mr. Bennett is: several years younger
than the Herald. He is tall and slightly
built, with marked features, and hair prematurely
gray.
DECISION.
A teacher in one of the large colleges for
women in the Eastern States lately told of
a little incident which may be of use to
some of our girl-friends. At recreation
hour on one Sunday evening, a large number
of girls had assembled in the parlor.
They began to talk and laugh, quietly at
first; then the conversation ran into gossip,
and the laughter grew more boisterous
and frivolous.
"I felt," said the teacher, "that the effect
of the calm of the day, and of its solemn
services, was being wholly destroyed. It
was not the way in which girls who professed
to serve Christ should spend his day
if they hoped to come closer to him ; but
there was no actual infraction of school
laws, and J had not the courage to interfere.
"At last, a very young girl, a member
of the lowest class, came in. She glanced
around, with a startled, pained look; then,
after a moment's hesitation, she walked to
the piano, and began to touch the keys
softly. As the music stole through the air,
the noise was hushed.
'"Why not have a little singing?' she
said to those nearest her, and struck the
first cords of'Lead, Kindly Light.'
"In a few moments every voice had
joined in the hymn so dear to us all. The
girls are fond of sacred music. One hymn
after another was sung with fervent feeling,
until at last they separated for the
night. Not one of them guessed how firmly
and gently they had been led by a child
into the right path."
The story recalls a similar anecdote of a
member of the New York Exchange, who
was present at conference between half-adozen
men who controlled the market. A
certain action was proposed which would
prove of enormous advantage to themselves,
but which would result in bankruptcy
and misery to a great many people
who were not informed of this plan of the
leading speculators.
The gentleman who had just joined the
conference looked about him and saw in
every face an inner-consciousness of wrongdoing.
Then he said, with a smile, "It
would be advisable, of course, if it were
right. But it is not honest*."
Not a single man had the courage to
insist on carrying out the project.
The time will come to every reader of
these lines when, by a firm word gently
spoken, he can lead his fellows into the
path of right.
If it should seem impossible for him to
speak to them, if the heart fails and the
voice chokes, let him remember that the
words he would utter are already spoken
in the conscience of every one present. In
all probability each one is waiting, hopeful
to hear the rail to do right, but without
the courage to speak it.
lie will only give voice to their better
natures if he utters the word in season.
?[Youth's Companion.
SOME UlJEElt TIMEPIECES.
In the great museum of London is a
small watch, a hundred years old or more,
in the shape of an apple. The golden outside
is adorned with grains of pearl.
King (leorge III. of England had a
watch not larger than a five-cent piece,
which had one hundred and twenty j>arts,
the whole not weighing quite so much as a
ten-cent piece.
In a Swiss museum is a watch only
three-sixteenths of an inch in diameter,
inserted in the top of a pencil-ease. Its
tiny dial not only indicates the hours,
minutes and seconds, but also the day of
the month.
The rarest collection of old watches in
the United States, if not in the woijld, is
owned by (Jiovanni P. Morosini,at Irvington,
on the Hudson. He has from five
hundred to one thousand, worth about
thirty thousand dollars.
About one hundred years ago a man
named Droy. made a very curious clock.
Upon the top sat a negro, a shepherd and a
dog. When the clock struck the negro
played six tunes upon a flute, and the dog j
moved towards him as though glad to see
him.
The Swiss watchmakers have invented a
watch for the blind. A small peg is set in
the middle of each figure. When the
hour-hand is moving towards a given hour
the peg for that hour drops. The person
finds the peg is down, and then counts
back to twelve. *
Catherine I. of Russia had a musical
watch. In the interior was the Holy Sepulcher
and the Roman guard. By touching
a spring the stones moved away from the
door of the sepulcher, the guard kneeled
down, angels appeared, and the holy
women stepped into the tomb and sang the
Easter song of the Russian churches.
EARLY LESSONS IN ETIQUETTE.
IMPORTANCE OF THE PROPER TRAINING
OF CHILDREN AT THE TARLK.
The manner of eating is, without doubt,
one of the surest tests of refinement. This
test is as p.policable to brutes as to men.
There is as much difference in the refine*
n . 1- 4.1. ~
Ilient 01 IIHUVIUUUIS Ul im; uuinn; aiiu
equine and bovine and feline suede* as in
those of the human species, ana the difference
is seen most plainly in their personal
habits, and particularly in their habits of
eating. There is no pain of the social sorts
more exquisite than the pain endured by
a sensitive and refined nature when by
stress of circumstances it is compelled to
feed on husks with swine. This was the
crowning agony that brought the prodigal
son to himself, and influenced him to return
to his father's home, where the servants
even had good food and to spare.
' The mother who would havener children
form correct habits at the table should
begin early and keep up the training till
it becomes second nature to them to eat
properly and behave fautlessly. She must
create a proper sentiment in them by having
the table well appointed, the food prepared
and served daintily and the order of
the service unvarying. As to the table
appointment, the cloth should be scrupulously
clean, though it be only coarse material
; it should be nicely starched and
ironed and put on straight, its folds parallel
with the side of the table and they with
the side of the room. The napkins, of however
coarse material, must also be clean,
carefully ironed and put 011 in place.
The arrangement of the dishes on the
table must be uniform, regular and tasteful
; each dish, plate, spoon, glass, being in
its appointed place and kept there. Any
one accustomed to orderly appointments
by habit soon learns to feel the necessity of
taste and exactitude. These are fearfully
neglected in many families. Table furniture
of all sorts is hustled 011 without regard
to appearance or order, the napery is disgusting,
the carelessness in disposing it
equally so, and the results are only such as
might be expected. Children who are required
to behave at table every day as
they are taught to behave when company
is present, must sit down every day to as
well set a table as is set for company.
As to food it is impossible to feel polite
and well mannered over unpalatable,
coarse, ill prepared, indigestible food.
Every mouthful of it provokes ill humor,
resentment, dissatisfaction. The house
mother who insists 011 good table manners
must give her family good food. How
can one l>e gentle and polite and sweet
tempered on a diet of sour bread, muddy
coffee, soggy potatoes, heavy piecrust,
leather batter cakes? Chesterfield himself
would forget his manners if compelled
for any length of time to subsist 011 such a
diet.
As to the methods of eating, with the
assistance of the knife and fork, the food
may be so divided as to relieve the incisors
of part of their work, and make small'
mouthfuls a pleasure. The grinders indicate
that grinding in the mouth is a part
of the process of nutrition. Animals destitute
of grinders bolt their food. It is
not fitting that human beings should eat as
cats and dogs do, since they have such a
"mill" ready for use which dogs have not.
The lips are so constructed that the noise
of grinding, which is intolerable to ears
+<-> tviim liaoffiuitliullv rliuflF|li>iP<1.
puilWT) lliaj l#v VllVVVUUltJ
This is a point that cannot be too urgently
insisted upon. Food, whether liquid or
solid, must be conveyed into the mouth,
and from the mouth downward, silently.
The position at the table should be unconstrained
and easy, the person sitting erect
or slightly bent forward when eating, so
that the mouth may be directly over the
plate; arms should be held at the side, not
extended at right angle to the body. The
elbows should be kept off the table. ljeaning
back in one's chair is a grievous violation
of table etiquette. The mouth and
tinkers must be kept, during the process of
eating, absolutely clean.
The use of the fork to the exclusion of
the knife in carrying food to the mouth is
insisted on. Leave taking is permissible
only by permission of the hostess. Table
talk should he light, agreeable, general,
each person present contributing his or
her quota to the general fund, and children
observing the excellent rule of being "seen
and not heard," unless they are in such
majority that the conversation is keyed to
their level. Parents who will be at the
pains to set their children such examples
as they wish to see followed, and will hold
themselves to a high standard of etiquette,
will have no difficulty in attaining the results
they desire.?[Christian Advocate.
HKNNESsfsMAST FIGHT.
Quite direct runs the old trail southward
from Arkansas City, Kansas, to Oklahoma
City. Along this trail the traveler's eager
eye beholds a monument erected out of na
tive stone. Here lies the body 01 Drave
Pat Hennessy, who was murdered by the
Cheyenne Indians in 1K7(>. Many are the
tales told of Pat and his many narrow escapes
from the red devils of the plain. Of
these it is not the purpose to speak at present,
but to record his last great light, where
Pat proved himself a very Catling gun o*f
death to his implacable foes. Pat is well
remembered as an old time Fort Sill
freighter, and at the time of his tragical
death was on his way from Caldwell, Kansasj
to the fort with six waxons and three
trail wagons. With him were three men.
One of these, a passenger, a tender foot
from Boston, had a great desire to kill an
Indian. John Korison was his name. He
little knew how soon he would get more
killing than he wanted and undergo an experience
seldom equaled in border tragedies.
One afternoon, shortly after they had
gone into camp, they were attacked by a
band of 300 or 100 Cheyenne braves with
all the suddenness and terrible ferocity peculiar
to Indian warfare. Hennessy saw
them coming and instantly ordered the
men to run for a canyon just west of the
trail. They misunderstood the direction,
and instead of west took the trail north.
This mistake hastened their doom. With
wild yells of savage delight the Indians
circled around the three men. Korison
was left behind in the race. He saw Indians
on every side. No chance of escape,
death certain. Ilis alarm was over. The
tenderfoot was a man. With a rapidity
that indicated a previous training, he raised
his Winchester and tired into the Indians
with shots so quick they almost seemed
one. Deadly shooting, too, for five painted
warriors had gone down, their death cry
ringing out and mingling with the doglike
snarls of several who were wounded. The
Indians returned the tire and the three
**-.11
wiuu; IIli-ii IUII#
Old Pat saw the fight from his retreat in
the rocks. His mind had undergone a
great change in regard to the man from
Boston, and as the savages rushed in to
scalp the three fallen men, his own deadly
Winchester came to his shoulder, the sights
caught the dusky form of a big Indian just
in the act of scalping Korison. The rifle
belched forth its messenger of death, and a
red fiend sprang high into the air, then
sank down, still and (lead. It was not that
fiend of the plain, Black Scar, but another
redskin, who, rushing forward to try for
the scalp of Korison, met his own well deserved
fate from the sure aim of Pat.
With yells of fury, the Indians left the
three prostrate forms to attack their more
formidable enemy, and from the belts of
three bucks there dangled the scalps of
three whites.
Iiennessy was well prepared for defense,
an immense rock behind, rocks at the side
and in front also, which was the only point
at which an attack could be made, and
there over the rock gleamed with deadly
menace his Hi-shot Winchester. Swift now
and hot the fight. Over :i(H> against one,
but that one cool, determined and desperate,
a host i?i himself. Into the advancing
horde go rifie balls on errands of death,
killing and wounding jus they tear through
the red ninks. With insane courage the
savages rush up within ten yards of the
rock. Pat no longer sighted his gun; he
rests it on ji rock, cocks it with one hand
and pulls the level jmd trigger with the
other, and point blank into the red devils
ho sends an almost continuous stream of
leaden halls. They waver, break, retreat,
hut only for a moment.
The chief has been killed, but Black Scar
takes command, waves aloft the seal]) of
Korison, points to the (haul braves, calls for
vengeance and orders the fight to he renewed.
This time the attack is made
in front and at both sides. If they call
scale the rocks at the sides, Pat will heat
their mercy. From the death dealing point
in front the good old Winchester again
pours forth its terrible destruction, and at
the loud command of Black Scar they surge
around in front, face to face with their desperate
foe. Pat's revolver, a self-cocker,
does deadly work, fired into the yelling
mass ten feet away, the last load gone, and
again the Winchester at close range covers
the ground with dead and dying. The red
tvuttititarv ni>u f/\r?cul fmm tlmt (lf'nth
vomiting rock, back from a single gun,
back from one man, back from brave Pat
Hennessy.
In a few moments the whole band would
have tied, when suddenly the tiring ceased.
Pat's gun had become so dirty and hot by
such constant firing that, horrible to relate,
while attempting to put in a cartridge it
stuck fast and could not be forced either in
or out. The I ndians supposed he was out
of ammunition and with savage yells
rushed in to secure their prize. Pat met
them with clubbed gun, and broken heads
and bones were plenty as they came within
sweep of his strong arms in the death
struggle ; but those behind still pressed on
and he was soon overpowered and secured.
Infuriated at the loss of so many of their
number, they took poor Pat, tore his scalp
from his head, hound him to one of his own
wagon wheels, emptied sacks of oats
around him and set them on fire. Just as
they commenced their devilish torture and
dance around their victim, they heard a
shot echo from the distance. The alarm
was raised that the soldiers were coming
and the stampede at once began. Picking
up the wounded and some of the dead, the
Indians mounted their horses and scampered
off.
The evening shades gathered darkly and
all was still as the fire burned, and the spirit
of brave Pat passed away and found rest
in the land of the hereafter.
There lie was buried the next day by
some other freighters. The bodies of thirty
dead Indians were also found and were
afterward removed by their red brothers.
Pat was known as a brave man. His
friends have erected a headstone, simply
inscribed with his name and date of nis
death. And thus is marked the grave of a
hero and the spot on which occurred the
most remarkable fight of one man against
so many recorded in the border annals.?
[St. Louis Republic.
THE ROTHSCHILDS.
Some ten years ago old Baron Rothschild
passed away full of years, leaving liehind
him a gigantic fortune. His three
nephews, Natnaniel. Leopold and Alfred,
sons of Baron Lionel Rothschild, inherited
the city business, while his vast riches in
cash, lands, house property and securities
were for the most part bequeathed to his
daughter, the Countess of Itosebery. The
three London Rothschilds of to-day bear
little resemblance, either in face, form or
business habits, to either their late father
or uncle. The elder, Nathaniel, lately
?wwtn/l T.nr<l Ti.ntlisj/'hibl is si fiir MHfiinfr
man of great business capacity, and under
his guidance the great house still maintains
its supremacy in the world of London
finance. lie is, however, a man who devotes
his attention only to great enterprises,
and consequently a vast amount of
minor business of a very profitable nature
that used to lie executed by the Rothschilds
has of late flowed into other channels.
His lordship excels as a diplomat, and
his relations with Gladstone's government
during the Egyptian affair were close and
invaluable to his house. Simple British
tax payers who paid any attention to the
part England was playing in the Khedive's
affairs for a year or two previous to the
slaughtering of the heroic Gordan at Khartoum.
roundly asserted that her expensive
interference in Egypt would never have
been pushed so far but for the vast interests
of the Rothschilds and their clients
there at stake. The head of the firm does
not inherit his uncle's love of sport; he
neither breeds nor runs thoroughbred race
horses, and is rarely seen in the hunting
field, though in a perfunctory manner he
still keeps up the famed pack of staghounds.
llis counsel in financial matters
is highly esteemed by her majesty's government,
and his life, like that of his predecessor,
is devoted to money getting.
More Jewish in appearance than either of
his bothers, his character and habits also
more eloarly indicate his Hebraic origin.
Alfred de Rothschild is also very regular
in his attention to business in "the lane."
He is not generally credited with any particular
aptitude for playing the great game
of finance, but has charge of the routine
business of the firm. Almost any morning
on the stroke of 11 his neat brougham may
be seen pulling up at the corner of Cannon
street and St. Swithin's lane, whence its
elegantly attired owner proceeds on foot to
his office. He is a handsome man, of
medium stature and dark complexion, and
his features are only slightly indicative of
his Semitic origin. In private life he is
something of a sybarite; bis taste in works
of art is highly cultivated; he is a liberal
patron of some of the first painters of the
day, and an ardent and discriminative
collector of old china and bric-a-brac.
Leopold de Rothschild does not resemble
his brothers either in his features or
mode of life. The younger brother takes
but little part in the business of the great
house, and rarely puts in an appearance in
St. Swithin's lane. He is a somewhat
delicate looking man, of fair complexion,
with a mild, kindly face.
A liberal patron of the drama, he is
rarely absent from his box at the opera or
his stall at the theatre on "first nights,"
and he numbers among his friends many
of the leading members of the profession.
He is in the Prince of Wales' set and is on
terms of intimacy with theJieir apparent.
Rut it is as an owner of race horses that
Leopold de Rothschild is, perhaps, best
known to the English people. Wlnle lacking
his late uncle's enthusiasm in his pursuit
of the national sport of Britons, he
maintains a large stable of thoroughbreds
at Newmarket, where he also has a residence,
and it may fairly be said that there
are 110 colors more popular 011 the turf than
the Rothschild blue and yellow.
One estimable characteristic of the English
Rothschilds may be noted as the common
possession of each of the three brothers.
Their charity knows 110 limit, their
sympathy once enlisted 011 behalf of a
worthy object. Their names are never
missing from any public subscription list,
while their private benevolences are ever
dispensed with open hand and presumably
cheerful heart.?[Philadelphia Times.
ACKNOWLEDGING FAULTS.
There is one means of preserving peace,
harmony, and good-will in our social relations
which, although very simple, very
just and manifestly very effective, is perhaps
more frequently shunned and disliked
than any other. It is the frank admission
of having been in the wrong. Nothing so
(quickly disarms resentment, calms irritation,
melts away cold displeasure, turns
. . i 1 ?i
linger 11110 lenuerness ami viuui^cs u tenant
attitude into one of sympathy, as this
candid confession, and yet few words are
more rarely ever uttered. The simple
avowal of the truth without excuse or paliation?"I
was wrong," or "I was mistaken,"
or I regret having said or done as I
did"?is worth a thousand elaborate attempts
at explanation, which are generally
unbelieved, unaccepted and give rise to
argument or reconciliation. The person
thus addressed undergoes an immediate
change of sentiment towards him who
speaks. He 110 longer desires to prove or
emphasize the error of the offense; he rather
inclines to ignore it, to excuse it and to
question whether lie, too, may not have
lieen equally to blame. And the sympathy
thus established unites those in friendly
concord who might otherwise be always
at enmity.
Of course, the primary element in any
such avowal is absolute truthfulness. To
utter such words for the mere sake of conciliation,
without feeling that they express
the reality, would re-act for evil like
any other falsity. .Sometimes children are
required to do this, and it is always 1111 act
of injustice. Unless they can be brought
to feel that they have been in the wrong,
they should not even be allowed to say so.
No good can ever come to child or man by
insincerity. But when once convinced of
error?when confession to self has been
mafic?the confession to the one that hits
been wronged is a debt which justice demands,
and which magnanimity will hasten
to pay. Very often it is the onlv reparation
that it is possible to make. There
is no hesitation as to the duty of restoring
what has lieen borrowed, or making good
any property of our neighbors that we
may have injured; yet, if we have hurt
his feelings, or injured bis good name, or
in any way taken some drops out of his
cut) of happiness which cannot be restored,
is it too much for us to confess the wrong
and to express whatever regret we truly
feel? Is tnere not something mean and
ungenerous, as well as unjust, in the spirit
that refuses to make the only possible
attonement? And yet how common is
such a refusal!
A CORNER IN THE MATERIAL FOR BAGGING.
The New York correspondent of the
Charleston News and Courier says :
"Still waters run deep," and at present
so courses the current of trade in jute butts.
The Bagging Trust people are getting in
some fine work that is liable to show big
results within the next few months. They
are playing their cards so artfully that the
unwary are liable to be caught in their trap.
There are three elements in the jute butt
trade, namely, importers of the butts,
manufacturers of jute bagging, wjio are
the buyers of the butts, and the brokers or
middle men between importers and manufacturers.
Just now the brokers and manufacturers
are mute as mice, and even the
importers are rather uncommunicative.
Hence it is difficult to get at the true inwardness
of the present situation. Dilligent
investigation has, however, revealed this
much to your correspondent:
Jute butts are practically cornered. That
is to say, the butts are sold by the importers
for future delivery just as cotton is
traded on in the New York Cotton Exchange.
Such sales are made for several
montns already, and at present the outstanding
contracts for delivery are sufficient
to take every bale of butts that can
possibly arrive here by importation between
now and June 1. At that date the
season of the current crop of butts ends,
and no new supply can be had until the
next crop matures, the lieginning of which
is in October. Therefore, all the butts not
now in stock which will be available for
the manufacture of bagging to cover the
next cotton crop, are those that will arrive
between now and June 1, and every bale
of them has already been bought by the
bagging manufacturers.
Now, if this is not a "butt" corner, what
"but" a corner is it ? All the bagging manufacturers
are said to be in the trust except
the Ludlow Company. There is a low
grade of butts, too poor to be used in making
bagging, except by being sparingly
mixed with the good quality. These are
usually sold to paper manufacturers, and
it is said that the Lagging Trust people
luii'fi oirnvi K/\iirr)if im oil flinuo
1UI> t t>VU U|7 Uil WIVOi; lUH ^iUUV
butts from the paper makers.
The present price of bagging is not high,
which is due to the wily manipulation of
the trust. Ho long as the price is held below
the figure at which bagging can l>e
profitably imported, namely, about 11
cents, the trust will have nothing to fear
from that source, and the game is to keep
the price below that mark until it will be
too late to import bagging for the next
cotton crop.
The only way to defeat the scheme is for
the South to buy bagging now at present
prices, and thereby get the necessary supply
at moderate cost, or else force the trust
to show its hand before it is too late to import
bagging, or to devise a satisfactory
substitute.
The current supply of jute butts is said
to be smaller than usual at this season because
of a large proportion of the present
crop having gone to England and Calcutta,
which would come here but for a fear during
the recent Presidential campaign of a
tariff reduction on imported bagging in
case of a Democratic victory. This short
supply is of course an advantage to the
trust. m. j. v.
Corresjjonilenpe of tbe Yorkvllle Enquirer.
LETTER FROM FORT LAWN.
Fort Lawn, H. ('., April 4.?The Missionary
and Sunday-school Union of the
Chester Baptist Association, convened with
the Fort Lawn church on last Friday. The
introductory sermon was preached by Rev.
G. W. Gardner, after which the Union was
called to order. Col. E. T. Atkinson was
elected moderator, and J. J. Jordan clerk.
A number of questions of practical importance
were discussed during the sessions
of the Union, and at times a good deal of
interest was awakened. Col. Atkinson
made several good speeches which were
preceded and followed by speeches from
the ministers who were present.
Gn Sunday, a large congregation was
on band, and in the early morning addresses
were delivered to the Hunday-school by
Revs. F. (). H. Curtis, J. Q. Adams and G.
\V. Gardner. At 11 A. M. Rev. R. W.
Sanders addressed the congregation upon
the subject of Home Missions, in which he
gave a good deal of valuable information
and earnestly pleaded for more interest in
this important work.
In the afternoon a presbytery, consisting
of Revs. R. \V. Sanders, J. Q. Adams, F.
(). S. Curtis, A. L. Stough and G. \V. Gardner,
proceeded to ordain, at the request of
the Fort Lawn church, M. E. Jordon to
the deaconate.
The people of Fort Lawn are just about
completing a beautiful house of worship,
and under the leadership of their faithful
pastor, Rev. A. L. Stough, one might safely
predict a bright future for them. He is
a' very companionable gentleman, an excellent
preacher and a man unversally admired
by all. It is an open secret here and
elsewhere, that in a few days he will call
to his assistance one of the most accomplished
ladies of the town. The marriage
will take place in the Baptist church, Rev.
R. W. Sanders, of Chester, performing the
ceremony, which will unite two loving
hearts and change the name of Miss Mary
Walker to Airs. Stough. Miss Mary is the
I ir \V;ilL*i>r iif this town.
U. M.
A KOOTFUL OF GOLD.
Said an old-timer: 1 once made a pretty
good raise where I at first thought 1 had
found a dead man. I was prospecting
down in Amador county, California. One
day I went up the creek about a mile, and
seated myself on a rock to rest. Across
the stream, 011 the opposite bank, where
the remains of three or four old cabins.
Some of these had almost tumbled into the
creek from the wearing away of the ground
on that side. I observed that part of the
fire-place of a near cabin had tumbled down
the bank toward the creek, and that the
foot of an old gum boot was sticking out
of the dirt. It seemed to project from beneath
the stones forming the hearth of the
old chimney. I thought it was strange
that any man should have laid his hearth
over an old gum lioot. Then it occurred
to me that some man might have been
nimvhiro<l nrwl hnripd under tlu' hearth.
Crossing the creek to the old chiimney,
I found that the foot of the old hoot projected
under a large Hat stone that was still
in place. I lifted the stone, and found
that there was only one hoot there, and no
sign of a human skeleton nor bones of any
kind. J kicked the old hoot down the
bank, and then took a pan of dirt and
ashes out of the old fireplace, sis I had in
several instances made pretty fair strikes
in old hearths, for it is well known that
the early miners were often careless, and
lost a good deal of fine gold in retorting
it?burning out the quicksilver it contained
on shovels. As I was passing down the
bank 1 came to the old boot, and in passing
gave it another kick, sending it almost
into the creek. It landed leg down hill,
and from the end poured a golden shower
of nuggets and dust.
In a moment I threw the dirt out of my
pun and reversed the boot oyer it, when
out tumbled two large buckskin bags filled
with gold dust. So long had the treasure
lain concealed under the hearth that the
strings with which the bags were tied had
rotted, and one gave way under the kicks
I had liestowed upon the old boot. When
all the gold was gathered up, I found that
I had nearly two thousand dollars.
?
Paper Clothing.?1The latest novelty
in the way of garments introduced in St.
Paul is paper clothing?that is, clothing
made of paper. The process was discov- (
ered not much, if any, over a year ago,
and is controlled by a company in .Michigan
which manufactures the goods. < )nly j
recently has any of the clothing been seen !
here. The value of paper a# a retainer of
warmth lias always l>ee? recognized by
hunters, prospectors and other people who
are given to "roughing" it. On cold
nights these people will cover themselves
over with old newspapers, which they
find a great protection against the cold.
This is perhaps what suggested to some
genius the idea of paper clothing. The
garments are chiefly in the form of vests,
designed to lie worn between the underclothing
and linen of the gentlemen.
Then there are corset covers for ladies.
Bed clothing is also manufactured from the
paper. This is in the form of sheets, to be
used in connection with other bed clothing.
Since basins, water pails and even
car wheels are also made of paper, there
seems to be no limit to the possibilities of
paper manufacture. Some day they will
ue building brick business blocks out of
paper. E. A. Jaggard wears one of the
paper vests and considers it about as good
as an overcoat.?[St. Paul Pioneer Press.
The Race War in* Ohio.?A correspondent
of the New York Times, writing
from New Richmond, Ohio, says: "This
place of 3,000 population is the, scene of
great excitement, which many fear will
end in trouble. In no part of the State
has the law abolishing separate schools for
blacks caused so much trouble as in this.
This and Adams counties have particularly
suffered, and the Court dockets are crowded
with suits for damages and criminal proceeding
growing out of the school rows.
At Felicity, recently, one man was shot,
a number injured, and one house demolished,
in an effort to forcibly eject colored
children from the school house, which was
almost wrecked.
"There are 200 black and 700 white
school children here. All the blacks consented
to remain in separate rooms, except
the children of James Ringold. They
were made miserable in every way. Ringold
caused the matter to be brought into
the courts? suing the superintendent of the
schools and thirteen prominent citizens
for $5,000 damages. The circuit court gave
him one cent and costs. All the blacks
then rushed for the schools and a rouj*h
and tumble time ensued, which ended in
the school board closing the schools until
next September, though three months of
the present term remains. Many whites
and not a few blacks, are indignant that
their children must be deprived of three
months' schooling, and the feeling runs
high.
"This has been one of the most exciting
Sundays the place has ever known. The
streets have keen crowded all day. All
other topics were forgotten. Ministers
counselled forbearance and wise heguft attempted
to calm the impetuous. Each
side professes to fear violence from the
other. All the teachers will sue for their
salaries for the remainder of the term, and
costly litigation, if nothing else, is sure to
follow. There is a prospect that a mandamus
will he tusked for to. compel the
school board to reopen the schools."
Planting With a Canon.?Alexander
Nasrayth, the landscape painter, was
fruitful in expedients. To nis mind, the
fact that nothing could lie done in the ordinary
manner, \fcus no reason why it
should be given up. His son relates the
following interesting example of his ingenuity
:
The Duke of Athol consulted him as to
some improvements which he desired to
make in his woodland scenery near Dunkeld.
Among other things, a certain rocky
crag needed to be planted with trees, to
relieve the grim barrenness of its app4iranee.
The question was how to do it, as it
was impossible for any man to climb the
crag, in order to set seed or plants in the
clefts of the rocks.
A happy idea struck my father. Having
observed in front of the castle a pair
of small cannons, used for firing salutes on
great days, it occurred to him to turn
them to account.
A tinsmith in the village was ordered to
make a number of canisters with covers.
The canisters were filled with all sorts of
suitable tree seeds. The cannon was loaded,
and the canisters were fired up against
the high face of the rock. They burst and
scattered the seeds in all directions.
Some years afterward when mv father
revisited the place, he was delighted to
find that his scheme of planting bv artillery
had been completely successful, for the
rees were flourishing luxuriantly in all
the recesses of the cliff.
Work Deliberately.?There are some
things that must be done in a hurry, or not
at all. Catching a flea is one of the best
examples apropos to this. But as a rule, it
is safe to say, the man or woman who
works deliberately accomplishes the most.
The deliberate worker is the thoughtful
worker, with whom the habit of system
has become second nature. Anyone may
cultivate it who will take the trouble to
try; and the most unsystematic, spasmodicVorker
will realize with amazement how
easy it is to get through an allotted task in
half the time it formerly required, by planning
it all out before entering the office,
workshop or kitchen.
The hurried worker is the one who fancies
he is an uncommonly busy man. True,
he is; so is the man who tries to bale out a
leaky boat with a crownless hat, and in
proportion to the energy expended, verv
often, the one accomplishes about as much
as the other. The busiest men we have
known were those who never seemed to be
in a hum', and they accomplished more in
a given time, and were less worn out when
their work was done, than many who ac
complished half its much, and almost killed
themselves in doing it.
Think about your work before beginning
it, then go at it deliberately. It will save
wear and tear of nerve and muscle, you
will accomplish more, and what you do
will be better done.
A Sharp Thrust.?Some men who
pass for very respectable citizens, and who
really are not without good qualities, have
a habit of not only finding fault with their
wives at every feast provocation, but of
doing it in terms as no gentleman would
think of applying to any lady except his
own wife, or possibly his own sister.
There is a story that such a man came
home from the sliop one night, and found
his wife much excited over the outrageous
behavior of a tramp. He had begged for
something to eat, and not liking what the
woman gave him, had abused her in the
rudest terms.
"Jolmny," said the man, thoroughly indignant,
"when you heard that cowardly
rascal abusing your mother, why didn't
you run at once to the store and let me
know ? 1 would have made short work of
him. Didn't you hear?"
"Yes, pa, I heard. I was out in the barn
mil hpard what, ho said about the victuals:
but"?"
"Hut what?" y
"Why, pa, I thought it was you scoldings'
mother, fie used the very same words
you do when the dinner doesn't suit you.
I didn't think anybody else would dare
talk to mother in that way."
Kind Words.?Many persons speak to
children habitually in a rough way, without
realizing' that they would not use the
same tone in addressing any others over
whom they had authority. A lady who
was on a visit to a family was in a nursery
when a little girl was preparing for bed.
Addressing her in a lively, cheerful tone,
she said": "Now let me see how quickly '
you will hop out of your dress into your
night gown," or something like that.
The child turned to her usual careI
mirl coiil "Wliv vmi snf?lk
that way instead of, "Come now, get your
clothes off?'"
They are not seldom provoked into illhumor
and then punished.
Kind words do not cost much. Though
they do not cost so much, yet they accomplish
much.
1. They help one's own good nature and
good will. Soft words soften our own
soul. Angry words are fuel to the flame
j of wrath, and make it blaze the more
: fiercely.
2. Kind words make other people goodnatured.
Cold words freeze people, and
hot words scorch them, and bitter words
make them bitter, and wrathful words
make them wrathful.
A young man at Athens, CJa., paid a
man live dollars for the privilege of courting
his daughter. The youth married
anothergirl, and demanded his Ave dollars
back. The old man put in a bill for firewood
and kerosene. They compromised.

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