Newspaper Page Text
Helena, Montana, Thursday, August 25, 1887. No. 39 <fl(c lilcfltly ^Ijerahl. B. E. FISK 0. W. FISK. «. J. FISK. Publisher s and Proprietors. Largest Circulation of any Paper in Montana -o Rates of Subscription. WEEKLY HERALD: One Year, (in a«l»i»nee).............................83 00 HI j Month», (In advance)............................... 1 75 Three Months, (in advance).......................... 1 00 When not paid for in advance the ra'e will be Four Dollars per year! Postage, in all cases, Prepaia. DAILY HEKALD: City Subscribers,delivered by carrier 81-00a month One Year, by mail, (in advance)................. 80 00 Hlx Months, by mail, (in advance)............... 5 00 Three Months, by mail, (in advance)........... 2 50 If not paid in advance, 812 per annum. «#-Ail communications should be addressed to FISK BROS., Publishero, Helena. Montana. [Written for the Herald | II1UERNIA. Olt Hibernia! thy freedom is not dead . It does but sleep, and soon itself will seat Lil>erty, girt with stars about its head. Walks in the light of this Republic's care Secure and calm ; while tyrants, coercion-fed, Ever tremble on the brink of some vague fear. An Empress-tpicen grows pale, for millions greet Her throne's decay yet tliou'st glorious in defeat. Ail Ireland is proclaimed ; yet unshaken The shades of her Emmets and Meaghers sigh behind. Curst coercion comes; yet dreams of hope awaken Beneath the murmurings of a nation's mind. Laws pass; but newer laws, like Sinai's un shaken, Will yet destroy the night of humankind. E\U is transient—wrong, coercion and fraud. By the great, good (!od, still are overawed. Assyria, Babylonia, Persia, Greece, Rome and Arabia, held in turn men's fears— Black masses in the golden light of peace, Casting wide shadows, but the fateful spheres \\ heeled round, and they were gone. No longer lease Has Britain, fed with dew of tinman tears. Of Hindoo, Irish, Kntlir, Maori and Zulu rude. And e'en America's in a revolutionary mood. Therefore, dear, sorrowing Hibernia, look forth : Think upon Blaine and Canadian fish awhile! Some comforters, at least, hast thou on earth— All Europe and America doth smile On thy struggle and on thy suffering worth ; And all the children of Australia's isle Answer the voice of thy heart-breaking cry in words of fiery hope that shall not die. P. M. MacHAI.K Helena, August 17, lSr<7. A SLIGHT DIFFERENCE. You go upon the board of trade. Where margin merchants meet And take some litt e options On January wheat. You watch the little ticker. Till tlie bands swing round the ring. Then you find your little boodle Has gone a-glimmering. That's business. You go into a faro bank And buy a stack of chips. And watch the cards come from the box Which tlie dealer deftly flips. When your head is dull and aching, At tlie breaking of tlie day. You see that fickle fortune Has gone the other wav. That's gambling. THE EPICYCLOIDAL. 'Tis a sort of a mystical curve, •? "V-J A kind of a sinuous bend, A serpentine swerve, That requires every nerve That a man to effect it can lend. Tlie pitiful batter stands there, Perplexed by the "in" and the "drop;" 'Twould nigh make a carmélite swear To see him thus mangling the air With a sort of barbarian chop. How little he guesses the ball Can trace an aerial screw I He watches the rise and the fall, i But sees no more winding at all F Than a cobbler in Kalamazoo. ~i ; He sees not the intricate curl Of the ball that goes flying apast. Nor the circumgyration and swirl, Nor the spiral fantastical twirl, Nor the zigzag refraction so vast. Spectators observe him and grin; The playing, they say, is "immense 1" Ai d a casual shot in the shin Is not an unnatural sin In the regular chain of events. ji" It the pitcher has something to say, He looks at the catcher askance. And speaks in enigmatic way— That silent patois of the play— With sentences hid in a glance. So study that magical leer, And watch every writhe of the w rist; And when in its switching career You see the ball suddenly veer. Take care of the tortuous twist.. —Joseph Daly in Judge. Hard Buck. "Where are you going, my pretty, pretty maid?" "To the ice cream parlor, sir," she said. "May I go 'long, my pretty, pretty maid?" "You can, sir, if you'll foot the bill," she said. "How many plates canst eat, my pretty, pretty maid?" "Four is about my size," she softly said. "Don't you ever get tired, my pretty, pretty maid?" "I'm not built that way, please, sir," she said. "I've just felt in my pockets, my pretty, pretty maid." "And what do you find there, sir?" she said. "Nought but a button, my pretty, pretty maid." "I'll see 3'ou later, sir," said. •'Can I see you home, my pretty, pretty maid?" "If you'll cliance the bulldog, sir," she said. "Will the bulldog bite, ray pretty, pretty maid?" "I should b'usb to murmur, sir," she said. We parted, -M. J. Donnelly in St. Paul Globa A Condensed Novel. . Twenty Vaux In fine clothes Wooed Miss de la Manches. Her old dad ducats had— Stocks, mines, railroads, ranches. One flee day passed away All De Manches' rhino; Not a beau came, ah no, - Save Paul Pencil Shino. *' v .V" Keportalre—inky hair— Was this constant lover. Manches' gold once more rolled. __ l~. _____ Paul now munches clover. . —New York Journal. I NDER THE GROUND. A VISIT TO KENTUCKY'S WONDER, MAMMOTH CAVE. A Place No Snake Has Ever Visited, Nor Mosquito; Nor Is There Sunshine There — But All These Are Plentiful Near at Flaml. [Special Correspondence.] Mammoth Cave, Ky., Aug. 9.— What a pity it is this summer resort is not a few hun dred miles nearer the center of population. There is no summer resort like it in all the land. The country is marvelously beautiful, though dry and hot. The leaves have wilted under the sun's fierce rays, and every foot fall stirs up a small cloud of fine, warm dust. The mercury rises to the limit and induces a feeling of discomfort which even the fa mous julep here compounded in all its fra grant glory fails to relieve. The grass is green unuer the many trees surround ing the picturesque old hotel, and the verandas are swept by gentle breezes. But ■ musquitoes abound, and there are rattle snakes in the grass. The guests of the old inn abhor both the insect and the reptile, and early in the morning seek an avenue of es cape from the many evils which beset them. In this matchless summer resort there is a epot where no musquito ever buzzed, where no snake was ever seen or heard, where no 6un ever shone or summer heat penetrated. It Is down in the cave. Immediately after breakfast the guests assemble at one end of the long boteL The men are attired in their customary garments, but the women have put on odd looking bloomer gowns which make walking and climbing less difficult for them than when in skirts. Each guest seizes an oil hanging lamp made of tin and wire, wfih a metal gunrd to protect the hand from the flame. All form in line behind a smart looking colored man, "William the guide," and the journey in search of comfort and wonder is begun. Out through a rose garden, down a sinuous path into a deep and picturesque ravine the procession winds, presently halting before a black and grewsome hole. It is the entrance to Mammoth cave. Already the visitors feel the cooling influence of this famous curi osity. Chills, originating in vague appre hensiveness, chase each other up and down scores of spinal columns. A woman rebels against ber husband's authority, steps out of the line, and declares that she "wouldn't go Into that hole for all the world." He, unfeel ing, eager brute that he is, hires a colored man to escort ber back to the hotel, and re sumes his place in the line. A young man f rom Boston inquires of the guide if it is all dark down in the cave, and amid the tittering of his neighliors declares that he never would have come a step had he supposed the cave was totally devoid of daylight. But now the lamps have been lighted, the colored man cries out "All ready—march!" and the jour ney into the bowels of the earth begins. It is a noble vestibule which nature has placed at the entrance to this wonderful cav ern. Amid tulip trees, grape vines, maples and butternuts, fringing ferns and green mosses is the gateway to this underground palace. Here tree roots have twisted them selves into fantastic shapes, and from the rocks overhead a tiny cascade, feil by springs, falls continually into the gorge below. The descent is no sooner begun than the visitors feel a current of cool air rushing out to greet them. This is the cave's greeting—a pleasant foreninner of the depths within. Down, down walk the explorers, their feet finding firm stepping places in the rocky stairway, and the long line of moving lamps making a pleasing picture for those who remain behind. Boon a straight, low gallery is reached, where the walls are no more than ten feet apart, and the roof so low that tall men find it necessary to stoop. Here the guide halts his wards, and as the visitors one by one struggle up tiiey are surprised to find before them a heavy gate, securely fas tened by a big padlock. This is the inner gate to the underground palace, the place where the tolls are collected and the visiting parties finally organized. Here each visitor desiring to take the "long i^ute" within must pay $3 to the agent of tlie cave's owners, while those who wish to take only the "short route" are let off with $2. These prelimina ries being ai ranged, the big gate is opened, and, with a chorus of merry cries, the ex plorers are about to spring forward to begin their journey in earnest, when another halt is called. "Oh, oh, my lamp is out!" screams a timid little woman. Others make the same com plaint. And no wonder, for from the depths within rushes a wind as cool, comparatively, as a Manitoba blizzard in December and strong enough to blow one's hat from his head. All summer long this cool wind blows out the mouth of the cave. Why? Because tbo temperature without is from 80 to 100, while that within is always at 56. In winter the wind blows inwardly, the temperature without the cave being then lower than Within. Exhilarated by the cooling draught the ex cursionists rush forward at a rapid pace, ut tering many merry cries, and feeling indi vidually and collectively as if they could eclipse a race hoi-se in speed or outdo a moun tain goat in rock climbing. It is a singular fart that this incomparable summer spot not only offers its votaries an atmosphere of un failing coolness, but an air ah charged wtyh oxygen that its inhalation produces an un mistakably exhilarating effect. Chemical processes are ever at work within the cavern, generating oxygon and throwing it upon the air. Of course this expands the volume of the atmosphere, and in part accounts for the powerful out current which visitors first en counter at the big gate. This oxygen is so potential that under its beneficent influence ."we—w (m & K THE OLD WAY, tho weak feel themselves strong, and women easily and without fatigue perform journeys which ou the earth's surface they would deem Impossible. The wife of the innkeeper, a frail young woman, says she has ^ often a walked twenty or twenty-nvo mues cave in a single day, returning at sunset to engage in her favorite pastime of waltzing at the evening hop. "What!" the leader ex claims, "walk twenty-five miles in the cave? Is the cavern so big ts that?" Twenty-five miles is nothing in this great hole in the ground. You could, if you wanted to, walk 209 miles in this cavern and n».t once re trace your steps. No wonder the proprietors of the cave keep it under lock and key and ask liberal tolls for rambles along its thor oughfares. Mammoth cave is a subterranean empire. It has hundreds of streets and al leys. Some are about as wide as one of the waterways of Venice; some are mere holes through which visitors crawl like snakes; some are broad and high enough to contain ar row of metropolitan business buildings; while here and there a thoroughfare broadens and lifts into a great hall iu which a small church, spire and all, could be planted. It has mineral wealth and navigable rivers, and many, though harmless and curious, inhabi tants. It contains hills and pools, valleys, mountains, parks and gardens. It is, as well, one vast museum. And the year round, winter and summer, its temperature stands at 56 degrees Fahrenheit, and file supply of ex hilarating oxygen is unfailing and eternal. What a pity, I say, this incomparable retreat from the glare of sun—this new world just under the world we know so well and often get so tired of—is not situated near New York, Chicago or some other suffering me tropolis. Take a lamp in your hand, walk half /? i * u a mile, and lo, you have entered a new clime and a new portion of the gl>be. A voyagï to Greenland, or to Africa, or China, could not effect a more complete transformation. It is a pity, also, that 500,000 persons cannot enter this marvelous place each year, instead of the 4,000 or 5.000 who now visit it. There are improvements to be made too, and for this purpose government should purchase the cav ern and fit it for tho reception of the multi tude. The present owners are a half dozen heirs of one Jessup. The estate is managed for them by an agent. The earnings are no more than $10,000 a year, and out of this guides and their expenses must be paid. There is nothing left with which to make anything more than the imjierative repairs. Pullman, the sleeping car magnate, once made an effort to buy tho cave, but the property is under court control, and cannot be sold until some of the heirs be come of age. There is but one entrance to the cave. Others could doubtless be found by earnest search from within, but the owners take goal care that no such search shall be made. They forbid the use of surveying instruments in the cavern and discourage exploration. Dis covery of another entrance might break the monopoly which they now hold upon this matchless natural curiosity, though to protect their possession they have purchased several thousand acres of land, presumably covering the cave. Title to real estate, it appears, carries one's fee to the center of the earth, and if by the use of surveying instruments some neigh boring farmer could establish the fact that portions of the cave are .under his land, he would have a legal right to a share of the tolls collected from sightseers. This greatest of holes in the ground has 200 miles of explored avenues and passages. How much farther it extends no one knows, but it is probable that earnest efforts would extend the hundreds into thousands. This whole country side is filled with caves. In this (Edmundson) county alone two hundred have been discovered. Borne of these caves are nearly as large and quite as beautiful as Mammoth care, but the repu tation of the giant overshadows them all, and no one thinks of visiting any of the lesser marvels. Doubtless many or all of these caverns are connected by hidden passages, though it is a matter of neighborhood gossip that certain avenues have been closed by the Mammoth cave manager and explorers ex cluded from them, presumably through fear of unwelcome discoveries. The proprietors of Mammoth cave value then' underground city at $250,000, ami it could l»e readily sold for that sum. Mammoth cave has never been a popular resort. Hitherto it has been exceedingly difficult of access. The railroad ran no nearer than ten miles and the stage ride was over rough country, making it both tedious and expensive. Before the war southern planters came here in large numbers, and sought relief from summer's heat in the bowels of the earth. Everything here is essentially southern. The landlord at the hotel is anything but a successful Boniface, while his w ife is a beauty, too proud to visit the kitchen. The cooks are without acconv plishments, and never gained ns much as an inkling of the proper method of broiling a steak or brewing coffee. They do know, how ever, how to serve pie and hot biscuit for breakfast The hotel itself is southern. It is merely a series of log or rough frame sheds, built one after another in the form of an L, facing a pretty park. The main portion of the house was built as long ago ns 1818, and in tho big ball room over the dining hall Henry Clay and Andrew Jackson danced in their youth. The old inn is picturesque if not comfortable; and each arriving guest on making the inevitable query, "Where is the cave?" is told that a section of the great cavern is right underneath him as ho sits struggling with a piece of Texas steer, fried. The stage coach has at last disappeared, and a new railroad runs almost to the very mouth of the cavern. It is a crooked railway, run ning up hill and down and around hills, with grades which make observing passengers dizzy and locomotives tired. One engine can pull but a couple of cars, and then often at a snail's pace. This ride alone is worth the price of admission, especially if you stand on the platform behind a colored native and have the interesting objects pointed out to you. One-half the farmers along here, this volu ble black man will tell you, have caves on * * • * * * they arc too lazy to ex plore, though many of them use the mouths of their caverns for storehouses for meats and milk. But what has become of our party of ex plorers, whom we left just as they had be gun to sniff the oxygen and fathom the mys teries of life underground? They are still on their tramp—squeezing their bodies through Fat Man's Misery, listening to the reverbera tions and marveling at the strange scenes of Echo river, gazing fearfully into the Bot tomless Fit, panting and perspiring through the rugged Corkscrew, eating their lunch ten miles from daylight, or looking at tlie twink ling of chemical stars in a firmament which is hundreds of feet below the surface of the earth. Their wanderings amidst wonders, their study of nature when surrounded by ber, their thoughts when in the very presence of the mighty and eternal forces which ojhh- ate within earth, I must follow in another letter. Walter Wellman. A WOMAN MAYOR. w 1 -O MAYOR SALTER. Hansa» Ahead in the Advancement of Women. It is surely time to wake Nicodemus. Tho jubilee for the slaves occurred years ago, and now women are beginning to see the dawn of their day. In Argouia, Kan., they have a woman mayor, and she is sailing through her term of office with colors flying. Last spring Susanna Medora Salter was duly elected mayor of Argonia; also duly qualified, and is now duly and conscientiously operating the municipal machine. Kansas, as everybody knows, is a regular four in hand state in the matter of progres sion. It carries more laurels for radicalism, in spite of its grasshoppers, than any state in the Union, or out of it. Within her borders was shed the first blood in the war for free dom. Siie was the first to ratify the Four teenth Amendment. She led in the fight for prohibition, and she is the first state in the Union to grant to the women of municipali ties the right to vote on all matters referred to popular suffrage. This carries with it the right to hold municipal office, hence the woman mayor. As in the granting of suffrage to women in Wyoming and a hundred other important things in Ameri can politics, Mre. Salter's candidacy' began as n joke. It was the burlesque idea of a faction who had no sym pathy with women as office holders. The women showed their j tower by uniting their forces and hoisting said faction with its own petard, and they did it without any difficulty'. It was this way: The question at issue in local politics in most small towns in Kansas is not a political one. It is the enforcement or non-enforcement of the prohibitory' law. Last spring the men of Argonia did not take hold of the question with the vigor and determination the women liked to see. The W. C. T. U. con cluded to take mattere into their own hands. They called a caucus and invited all voters. It met in the Baptist church on Saturday evening. The election was to take place on the following Monday'. It was conducted in a manner quite unique in political caucuses. The meeting opened with the singing of "America," which had the effect of firing the hearts of those present with patriotic fervor. This effect then re ceived an extra coating of strength by the reading of the 140th—or Crusade—psalm, and a prayer which harmonized with both the hymn and the psalm. Then the caucus went energetically to business and named its five councilmen and mayor and went home. On Monday morning a facetious anti-pro hibitionist was up with the lark and out with some printed tickets containing the names of the five councilmen ; but instead of the cau cus nominee for mayor Mrs. Salter's name was substituted. They were circulated as s gigantic burlesque. The women of the W. C. T. U. heard of it and determined to turn the tables on this bold humorist. They called on Mrs. Salter, who was up to her elbows in Monday's housework, and urged her to take the office if elected. She consented, and they went to work for her like Trojans. Men dropped their daily duties and helped the women electioneer. By night Mre. Salter was mayor-elect. She had received three fourths of all the votes cast, and the joker was in sack cloth and ashes. Little jokes like that are often fraught with great re sults. A correspondent attended a meeting of the council. Mayor Salter, in a snug street dress and fashionable straw hat, presided with dig nity and decorum. When the four rattle tongued young aldermen grew irrelevant in their discussions she brought them to time at once. Her followers praise her without stint which is more than her opponents could be expected to do. The citizens of Argonia, advanced though they be, can scarcely get accustomed to the extraordinary innovation of a mayor in pet ticoats. They point her out to strangers as one of the curiosities of the town. Recalci trant small boys regard her much as the New York gamin does a "cop." "There's the mayor !" scatters them like a cyclone. Mrs. Salter's father, Oliver Kinsey, was the first mayor of Argonia, so it rather runs in the family to hold office, like wooden legs and artificial teeth. Mayor Salter is now 27 years of age. The engraving, taken from a sketch, represents her as rather severe of countenance. She is a blonde of medium height, is slender and dresses neatly. What is more, she can do what no other mayor has ever done. She makes her own clothes. She is the mother of four children, and can "outcook" and "out dish wash" any mayor or alderman that ever can. A l'oint for Rural Residents. Country Editor—Yes, sir, in the notice of the vegetables you left on my table I said they looked nice when brought, but were found to be scarcely eatable when cooked. I remem ber now. Irate Farmer—So do I, and I remember, too, that when my uppish neighbor, Farmer Grubbs, left the same kind of stuff here you came out with a big thing in the paper saying they were the finest vegetables you ever ate. I know, sir, that what I brought was just as good as his." "Maybe they were when you brought 'em, but it was two weeks before I had a chance to try them." "I see; they must have been pretty stale by that time. But how about Farmer Grubbs' vegetables?" "Farmer Grubbs was thoughtful enough to bring along a load of wood to cook them with."—Omaha World OHIO'S CANDIDATES. 3^ Nominees for Governor by Republicans, Democrats ami Prohibitionists. In 1SS3, when Joseph Benson Foraker was seeking the Republican nomination for gov ernor, he jocularly complained that every time he had sought promotion he had been met by the objection, " You're too young." When he was 15 years old the war broke out: his older brother enlisted, and Ben was wild to go with him; but the examining surgeon laid a paternal hand on bis head and affectionately said, "My dear boy, you're too young." In 1862, however, the. government was not so particu lar. It had been proved that "heal thy boys are good fighters," and when young Foraker en listed in the Eighty ninth Ohio volun teers he was ac- Joseph b. foraker. cepted and with his regiment went to the front. A year later he was for a time in command of his company, though but 17 .'ears old. He served with honor to the close of the war, was mustered out at the age of i'J, studied law, applied for admission to the bt r, was admitted with tho caution that ho was rather young," and by bard work soo.Y wol a good practice. He was elected judge at the early age of S3 and sat upon the bench thr^e years. In 1883 he was the Re publican "cr.iL.iee for governor of Ohio; but that hap;* red t » be a Democratic year, and ho was beaten by George Hoadlv, the Demo cratic candidate. In 1885 he was renomi nated and elected I rj a plurality of nearly 17,000. He is new nr minated for a second term. Mr. Foraker was bom in Rainsboro, U.,in July, 1840, and 1ms been a citizen of the state since that time. Besides the public action above mentioned he was also a delegate to the Republican national convention of 1S84, and took a very active part iu the campaign of that year. His principal competitor, Hon. Thomas E. Powell, is also a rising young man, only four years older than Governor Foraker. He was born in the lovely college town of Delaware, O., in 1842, hi3 father, a native of Wales, having been a noted and i n fi u e n t i a 1 Democrat through forty exciting years. The sou was grad aated at tho Ohio Wesleyan university, in Delà ware, iu 1863; four years after he en tered on the prac tice of law, and has since adhered to it with diligence and success. In 1870 he was candidate for attorney general of the state and shared the Democratic defeat of that year. He is well qualified to meet Governor Foraker upon the stump, and as the platforms of both par ties are unusually plain spoken and the issues well defined, the public may be assured of a high toned campaign, courteously con ducted upon fundamental issues. This year's contest in Ohio will, indeed, be worthy of the public attention. Morris Sharp, of Washington court house, 0., is the Prohibition candidate for governor. He was born in 1838, at Aberdeen, Brown county, O. ; spent some years of his youth in Ken tucky, but most of his manhood in Ohio, and now re sides at Washing ton court house, Fayette county, where he is a well to do banker and solid citizen. He has always been a pronounced t e m perance man, but it is only within the last two or three years that he has acted with the third party. He is a very agreeable gentleman and quite popular at his home. THOMAS E. POWELL. m MORRIS SHARP. THE LATE GEN. DUNN. a Y/f A Mau Whose Career I.eft Its Mark Upon tlie Day and Generation. The recent announcement of the death of Gen. William McKee Dunn revives the mem ory of a man once very prominent in Indi ana, one whom the people of that stato at one time thought worthy of almost the high est honors in the nation. Gen. Dunn had a constructive intellect, and for a quarter of a century, in the very prime of his life, he de voted hi.s talents to advancing his state, his skill in construction being of great val ue in the formation of a constitution, school laws and the upbuilding of a sound judicial and financial system. He was a contem porary of Robert Dale Owen, Judge Blackford and other men of the constructive period GIN. ii KEE dünn. in Indiana—t hat galaxy of building statesmen w ho immedi ately preceded Morton, Colfax and others of tho reforming and revolutionizing era. He, however, retained his mental and physical activity long enough to be contemporary with the second generation and to take a very active part in tho stirring events of 1SG0-66. W. M. Dunn was born Dec. 12, 1814, in Indiana while it was still a territory; was graduated in 1832 among the first students sent out from the state university, and then completed the course at Harvard. He took up the practice of law and was soon eminent among the lawyers of the state. In 1848 he was elected to the legisla ture, end in 1850 was a very active and useful member of the convention that framed the new constitution of the state. He was chosen as a Republican to the Thirty-sixth and Thirty-seventh congresses, but was defeated in 1862. Thus his service covered much of the war period, and he was a very earnest supporter of the Lincoln administration, serv ing as aid to McClellan in West Virginia while an elected riemfcer. In March, '.863, be was made major and judge advocate; in 1865 he was brevetted as brigadier and in I860 was made a regularly commissioned colonel of volunteers. Finally, Dec. I, 1875, he was appointed judge advocate general of the army with the full rank of brigadier and as such was put on the retired list Jan. 22, 18SL For many years past he has had a country residence in Fairfax county, Va, when? he died. AUGUSTINO DEPRETIS. SI AU6UBTINO DEPRETIS. The Late Italian Statesman \\ ho Han Often Been Compared to Gladstone. The career of Augustino Depretis, president of the council ami minister of the interior in Italy, who has just died, has often been likened to that of Gladstone. Indeed, the life work of the two statesmen has been of such similarity as to win for the Italian the title of Italy's Grand Old Man. Signor Depretis was born at Stradella, near Turin, Pied mont, in 1S09, and his life was brought to a close at the same place. He studied at the Uni versity of Turin, and choosing the law for his profes sion began its prac tice in his native town. It was dur ing this early peri od that he became acquainted with Cavour, to whom Italy owes its uni fication. This was before the public career of that eminent statesman, and the intimacy then begun was a lasting one. It was in 1848 that Depretis began his po litical life. In that year he was chosen to the Sardinian parliament for Stradella. H ; s parliamentary career was a long one; in fact, he was almost the oldest member, in length of service, in the Italian parliament. He was almost invariably seated on the extreme left, the portion of the house reserved for those members are who most radical in their views. This often brought him in direct op position to Cavour, but did not in the least impair the friendly relations existing between them, and on one occasion, memorable in the history of Italian politics, Cavour alluded to Depretis as "the man of Sparta." This title fitted Depretis very well, for his personal in tegrity was never called in question even by his bitterest opponents. He soon became the leader of a political group, which, while it had not sufficient numbers to form a majority in the chamber, was thoroughly compact and united and was often able to hold the "balance of power." But Depretis was never thought of as a possi ble prime minister until 1876, when Signor Minghetti was defeated. The first adminis trative office held by Depretis was the gov ernorship of Brescia, to which he was ap pointed in 1859. He was commissary extra ordinary and pro-dictator in Sicily 1860-61; minister of public works, 1862-63, and acting minister of marine in 1806, at the time of the naval defeat of Lissa. Much unpopularity attached to Depretis because of tins defeat, which his eneniies asserted w as the fault of "a minister of marine w ho had never seen the sea." In 1867 Depretis was for a brief period minister of finance and it was at that time that Victor Immanuel was attracted to him, often consulting him, indeed, when he was iu the opposition. IVhen, in 1S76, Depretis was asked to form a ministry on the ruins of that of Minghetti, he unfortunately confided the portfolio of the interior to Giovanni Nieotera, whose fol lies led to the sj>eedy downfall of the ministry, ln 1S77, however, Depretis was again called upon to become premier, and again in 1873, upon the fail of the Cairoli cabinet, he was summoned for the third time. This time his government lasted for six months only, but in 1881 Depretis again returned to power, not to retire again till 1885. In 1832 he had ma terially extended the franchise, and in 1883 he secured tlie co-operation of the right in repressive measures toward the Socialists. His retiracy in 1885 came from the occupa tion of Kasowab, but he was induced to form still an her ministry, and though he wished to resign m February of this yea»* King Hum bert would not hear of it, and Depretis held the position to the time of his deatu. FOR GOVERNOR OF MARYLAND. Eliliu Emory Jackson Nominated by the Democrats. The Democrats of Maryland have nomi nated Eiihu Emory Jackson as their candi date for governor. He is not a man of showy qualities, but he makes up for any lack of pretentious appearance in being of sterling mtegritv. Of plain tastes, he has devoted himself to business and been quite successful. He has made a fortune. Salisbury, county seat of "Wicomico, is his home. It is one of the lower counties of the eastern section of the state. Near there is bis birthplace. He was the eldest of five children. His education was practical. He taught school, was a storekeeper, and finally went into tho lumber trade, which made him rich. He now has large branches of his business iu many of the large seacoast cities, and his firm owns a railroad in Vir ginia, a fleet of boats on the Cliesa- ^ peake, and forests '■ V in North Carolina. \ w Fifteen thousand men earn their elihu emory jackson. bread as his employes. Only a few weeks ago he purchased 80,000 acres of timber land in Alabama, for which ho paid $100,000. He expects to receive from this a profit of seven times tlie purchase price. He is a million aire, and his brothers are his business part ners. He has had some political glory already. He has had one term in the house of delegates and one in the state senate. He was elected president of the senate near the close of the last session of the legislature. m w VC. O. Bradley. W. O. Bradley, of Lancaster, Garrard county, who ran on the Republican ticket in Kentucky for gov ernor this year, is a lawyer, able and earnest. He has been a candidate for office several times before, and his last race was against Judge Mil ton H. Dunham, now first controller of the treasury, for congress. He was a delegate to tho last two presiden tial conventions w. o. BRADLEY. a nd was one of the famous 306 who fought so valiantly for Grant at Chicago. President Arthur appointed him as assistant attorney to prosecute the star route cases, but he resigned the position. Kentucky had four tickets in the field this year, the Democratic, Republican, Prohibi tion and Union Labor ticket MR. CARNEGIE'S GIFT. Tlie Free Library Presented to Edin burgh by tlie Socialist Millionaire. Andrew Carnegie's name has become a noted one in the United States because of bi9 outspoken belief and his rapid rise to great wealth. It bids fair to become a household word in Edinburgh, if not in all Scotland, because of his munificence in presenting $250, 000 to tlie Scotch capital for the purpose of founding a great free library. Directly after his marriage, which w as solemnized early in the present season iu New York, he sailed for a. « I ni Hill! CARNEGIE FREE LIBRARY, the old country with his bride. Arriving there, he was presented "the freedom of the city" at Edinburgh and was made tho recipi ent of all sorts of honore and the subject of many complimentary allusions. On the even ing of the same day Mr. Carnegie was pres ent ata meeting of workingmen, who turned out 3,000 strong and presented to him a silver casket inclosing an elaborate address. On the following day Mr. Carnegie laid the foundation stone of the new library in the Cowgate. A cut of the library from the architect's drawings is given here. A CROOKED BIT OF RAIL. Wonderful Work of Engineers at I'lglit ltand Gulch, Colo. [Special Correspondence.! Denver, Aug. 9. —There is no end to the triumphs of engineering in the Rockies. Railroad men of today smile at the talk of twenty years ago, when the construction of the Union Pacific was long delayed to find a smooth route. Now trains run over "divides" 11,000 feet and more above the sea, wind along the rocky sides of deep canyons and thread their way along "benches" 2,000 feet in the air and once thought accessible only by the eagle and the mountain sheep. Give assur ance that the traffic will justify the outlay, and the engineers will blast out a railway track along the face of a cliff where the pio neer workmen have to be let down from above with ropes. The development of new mineral lodes in the heart of the mountains justifies these extraordinary methods of reach ing them by rniL We givj herewith a view of the latest achievement—the looped rail way up "Rigbtband guk h," from George town, Colo., to the foot of Gray's peak. To appreciate this achievement, consider these facts; The main range of the Rocky mountains through Colorado has an average elevation of 11,000 feet, with occasional peaks rising much higher, Gray's peak having an elevation of 14,410 feet. From these heights the floods of early summer have cut fearful chasms to the plains, and up these canyons, as they are called, the old time mountaineers found their only possible routes to the "divides." The railroads follow, obedient to the same necessities; but the asceut is too rapid for any engine, and in reducing the / I« i v Hi as righthand gulch Loor. grade by curves is where the engineer's skill is tested. From Denver to Golden, at the foot of the mountains, is an easy ascent ; there the narrow gauge railway starts up the wild gorge of Clear creek, and rises 2,000 feet in the short stage to Central City. At the junction of the two Clear creeks a branch turns to the left and goes by Idaho Springs to Georgetown, which is 8,400 feet above the sea. All around the city the mountains rise in a perfect amphitheatre for 3,000 feet, and in the upper end of the city the canyon di vides; from Lefthand gulch a river of crystal water comes pouring through a rocky flume as if it were tumbling from the clouds, while up Righthand gulch the grade is a little easier, and all tho mountain side is thick veined with the richest of silver lodes. Most noted among these are the Silver Plume (which gives name to the little mining town in the gulch), Dives Pelican, etc. To overcome the steep ascent of this canyon— 2,000 feet in eight miles, be sides the abrupt breaks and chasms—was the task of the engineer, and our engraving shows how it was done. The railroad winds around the upper end of the city in an ascending spiral, giving the passengers a bird's eye view of houses and streets below; it then passes up the very bot tom of the canyon till a convenient plateau is reached, where It crosses the stream and turns back toward Georgetown; then turning again to the south and west, it recrossec the canyon on a bridge 800 feet long and 90 fee* above its own track, and then, turning up tha canyon once more, but on a higher level, it goes on winding from side to side to Gray mont, present terminus of the line. Ther® the tourist must take horse if ho would ascend Gray's peak, still nearly 4,000 feet above him. ____ L. R. C. It Would Make a Difference. "I wouldn't be a fool, If I were you," said Jones to a friend. "If you were mo you wouldn't be a fool,* was the reply.—Mail and Express.