New York dispatch. [volume], March 27, 1887, Page 6, Image 6

About New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899

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6
THE OLD HOUSE AT HOME.
BY MARY A. C. PATTERSON.
trharfi’fl a little old house standing in a back street,
Like its builder and owner grown gray;
And He wails the old story of time will repeat,
Plainly showing the marks of decay.
In its chambers there lingers the patter of feet
That will nevef grow weary or old;
Xn the house that now echoes their rhythmical beat,
The floors are all laid of pure gold.
A wonderful garden, when full in its bloom.
Behind the old house shed its light;
Jia rth never held flower** with such a perfume,
Or tinted in colors so bright.
Trom the home of my childhood my face I may
turn.
O’er the world I may wander at will—
In the hearts of its roses the re 1 fire will burn,
And their sweet breath will follow me still,
lliere were sweet-scented violets royally dressed
In velvet of purple and gold,
Bbyly peeping up out of their cool, fragrant nest,
In the grasses o’ershadowiug fold.
There was humming-bird’s corner, where odors of
spice
Intermingled with lilac’s sweet scent;
Like to rainbows in spray these winged "gems
without price,”
Iridescent, now came and now went
* Borne day (and that will be a day full of dread)
Through that garden will run a new atre -t,
Th»*n on other than h'eajts of the roses will tread,
And wih trample, the strange, careless leet.
Soon the workmen will raze the bld walls to the
ground.
And the winds will sweep through as they fsll—
Will the outermost wave of the ripples of sound
Wash softly against the white wall
Of the home where the missing behold the Lord's
facp.
And sm to jarringly sad on their ears ?
If sorrow in Heaven eould e’er find a place,
Would they not be melted to tears ?
Why not spare the old homes where our childhood
was passed ?
BnHd the new ones elsewhere if you must;
Le the old homes remain as they are to the last,
Till Time’s chariot grind" them to dust.
—Detroit Commercial Advertiser.
LILIAN’S
BY CLYDE RAYMOND.
•'Ah me, what inconvenient things hearts
•re I” breathed Lilian Aldridge, with a bitter
High, that was speedily sti ed era it reached
her lips—those emiling, beautiful lips which
had trembled a little and lost something of
the r bloom, in spite of her, as Lance Derrick
rele«eed her hand and moved away alter offer
ing hie congratulations. “ I had forgotten un
til this moment that I had one.”
But there was no use in remembering its ex
istence now, and she knew it. The mischief
Was done. Miss Lilian Aldridge had come
home from Saratago an engaged young lady,
and, how that it was done and she bad time to
think it over, she hardly knew how it all had
come about.
A few fashionable hops at which she had
■Waltzed and flirted with Ferry Marvin, the
reigning masculine favorite of the season; a few
rides and drives in which be was her devoted
eaval er; a lew moonlight lete-a-teles, and she
•was his prom sed wife.
She had been /.altered and dazzled by his at
tentions—a distinction so eagerly coveted by
scores of rival belles—and.jn the glamour ot
that triumph, had said “Yes” when he had
knelt down, like the hero ot a romance, in the
starlight, aud asked her to accept bis heart and
hand, but—she had lelt love out of the ao
eonnt.
That was something she had scarcely paused
to think of until she returned, hushed with tri
umph over the brilliant success which she had
undoubtedly achieved.
Her splendid conquest had been heralded in
the society papers, aud was just now the ab
sorbing topic of gossip in her particular set.
It w. B not until Lance Derrick bent over her
hand with his few low-voiced wishes for her
happiness, not nntil she met the glance of Ins
frond, handsome dark eyes, that seemed,
somehow, so lull ot unspoken reproach, that a
thrill ol keenest pain beneath the lace and . ew
els on her fair breast warned her ot the exist
snce ol a heart.
' Lilian shuddered at the discovery. Had she,
♦hen, purchased her triumph at the coat of a
ruined love, a lifelong regret?
She shrugged her shoulders lightly, with the
faintest sound of a low, mocking laugh upon
her bps as she turned her fascinated glance
away from the superb, nonchalant figure just
losing itself with leisurely grace among the
crowd of dancers.
■‘Ko matter; it’s too late to think of it now,”
she determined, swiilly, her bril)iant blue eyes
darkening with a sudden gloom. "There’s
oniy one course for wto pursue—to go straight
on in the path I’vechosen, wear my honors roy
ally, aud let no one suspect this miserable
weakness, it he only wouldn’t look at me like
that I” she added, with a quick half-sob in her
breath that stirred the dainty laces on her
breast convulsively.
But Lanes troubled her very little with his at
tentions that evening. Once, at the very dose
of it, he paused beside her, as she leaned back
in her seat, pale and somewhat languid from
the fatigue of a long, breathless whirl ol
Walt es.
“it is a grand success, is it not, this enter
tainment?” he remarked, bending lightly over
her chair with the old half-iamiliar ease and
Charm of hs manner scarcely changed. “I
don’t remember anything which has equaled it
in brilliancy for many a day. Quite the event
ol the season. Don’t you think so ?”
Lilian langquidly assented, without lifting
her eyes to the handsome lace so dangerously
near.
“Justsncha scene as yon will be qneen of
when a certain happy event has taken place,”
ho went on quietly, a:ter one instant ot hesi
tating, almost breathless, silence. His tone
Was low—very low—but Lilian thought she de
tected a mocking accent in it; and she knew,
Without looking, that he was smiling down
upon her. “I should think a fair woman might
Well believe in her royal right to such a destinv.
One could pardon her almost anything—even
were she to barter love and truth—to reach a
goal like that. Does not your heart thrill with
pride aud happiness to know that you have al
ready won it, Miss Lilian? And without an
efiort too 1”
“ Yes,” she reponded firmly, lifting her eyes
to h s now, with resolute tire in their blue
depths, while a soft, deep crimson glowed m
each lair cheek; “yes, l ain ambitious, and my
marriage will place me in the position I covet,
and which alone could make ma happy. For
tnnaiely, too, in my case, it will not be neces
sary to barter love or truth. Fate has cast my
lines In pleasant places, and I esteem myself, as
you and my other friends esteem me, a thor
oughly lucky girl.”
There, she had said it, and said it bravely, too.
Bhe did not care now that there was a mocking
gleam in bis dark eyes as he bowed and politely
expressed his conviction that she was the hap
piest ot brides-eleet. Bhe felt that she could
hold her own proudly thereafter, let him think
or look as he might.
And so a brilliant season wore merrily on to
its close.
Lilian had already begun to think seriously
•bout her wedding. She was to bo married in
the Spring, aud the bridal-trip, in accordance
with Mr. Marvin’s wishes, was to be a long
Summer tour through the Old World, alter
which bo would bring his lovely bride home in
time to enter upon the next season with all the
added splendors of her new position, and all
her charms enhanced by the prestige of Euro
pean travels.
She was sitting alone in her own room one
Springlike afternoon, trying to choose between
♦wo exquisite shades of delicate pale silk for
one of the tea-gowns to bo numbered with her
trousseau; but her lovely blonde face hardly
wore the brightness one would expect from a
beautiful girl so soon to boa happy and fortu
nate bride.
Suddenly she dropped the lustrous silks,with
a hall-guilty start, for a quick, light rap had
Bounded on her door, and a light, breezy figure
had followed it into the room almost before
lulian could turn around.
“Come, get on your things, Lil,” exclaimed
a voice which suited the bright, breezy face and
figure to perfection, “and come out with me for
an hour. I'm trying to select a new picture for
xny boudoir and I want tho benefitof your taste,
decidedly. I’ve been almost everywhere, and
“I don’t know,” interrupted Lilian, with a
faint blush—“l ought to decide upon this gown
at once; btit then - I might do a little necessary
•hopping, 1 suppose. Well—yes,’.’ hesitatingly,
yet with evident willingness to get away from
the sight of her bridal dresses—“l think I’ll
go. It .will be only charitable to give you the
benefit of my superior judgment.”
“ Which 1 can utilize by purchasing the exact
opposite of that which you select,” retorted
Miss Fessenden quickly, with her airy laugh.
Lilian laughed, too, as she made herself ready
for the walk, and a few minutes later they were
out on the busy, sunlit street, the prospective
bride nodding and smiling gayly to the dozens
of acquaintances they met, many of whom
heartily envied her the splendid conquest she
had made.
“ I’ve been the rounds of the shops and half
♦he studios,” explained Mies Fessenden as they
turned a corner some blocks further on, “ but I
can't find just what I want, don’t you know?
But—wait 1” coming to an abrupt halt as an
idea seemed to strike her forcibly, “ I haven’t
been to Lance Derrick’s yet. 1 like his peculiar
•tyle of painting, too. Come, Lilian, let’s go
♦hare—it’s only a block away.”
But Lilian had suddenly drawn back, her
lovely fair lace growing deathly white.
“ Oh, no, not there, Minnie 1 Let us not go
there,” she cried in a low voice, as she pressed
her hand involuntarily against her heart.
“Why not, you little goose?” retorted Min
nie, staring at her wonderingly. “ Unless vou
•re afraid of upsetting his feelings by a sight of
the bridal roses in your cheeks”—for they were
burning redly now. “ I know ha was one of
youY old admirers.”
Thoughtless, sharp-speaking Minnie ! She
was one of the best-natnred girls in the world,
•nd never remembered her careless speeches
♦wo minutes alter they were uttered; nut her
kandom shots sometimes went straight to the
gnark, for all that.
This one did, most certainly. Lilian made no
more ob.ections, and in a very few minutes they
were standing in a large and picturesque studio,
with tho handsome dark eyes of Lance Derrick
Mailing pJ«M»ntJy upon them.
Other visitors were there, also; and, as they
strolled about the room, examining the speci
mens of art with which it was so richly decor
ated, Miss Fessenden soon became so absorbed
in searching for just the picture which she
wanted, that she forgot all about Lilian, who
looked at this painting and that upon the wails,
and tr od to appear easy and unconcerned, and
ended presently with a low cry of consternation
as she dislodged a small picture by some care
less movement, and it fell, with a loud crash, to
the floor.
It had been almost completely hidden behind
a larger one, and she had not seen it at all until
it camo tumbling about her feet.
Her cry, low as it was, drew Derrick instantly
to her side, and his dark i»oe flushed hotly,
then paled to a cold, hard whiteness, as he saw
the picture which she hail already filed from
the floor, and noted the strange look in her
eyes as she gazed upon it like one spellbound.
It was an exquisitely-painted portrait of her
self—strangely idealized, indeed, for it made
her seem a veritable angel of purity and truth
lint still her own face, beyond any shadow of a
doubt.
“ Yes,” he said, in low, cold accents, that were
almost harsh, ns he took it from her hall-re
luctant hand, "I painted it long ago, when I be
lieved in the truth and sweetness of the woman
as I did in the angelic beauty ol that face; but
now ”
He stopped abruptly, and looked off beyond
her,' hie ayes flashing d irkly, his firm, proud
lips working slightly, as if some thought, almost
too strong, for repression, uiust lie.kept back.
She »l:inoed up ciirfonsly, a half-terrified haj.-
defiaht look.in her lo ’ely face.
“ lYeli ?’’ she said,.inquiringly; and she nearly
succeeded in keeping her voice cool and indif
ferent. “What now?”
“ Let this answer your question,” he responded
tersely, as he replaced the picture in its obscure
hiding-place, turning the lovely, smiling face
against the wall. “Bo it it will lie there for
ever, unnoticed and forgotten.”
The grinding scorn in his low, tense accents
was more bitter than any speech. It brought
tho hot blood to her cheek. But, though she
longed to hurl him back a defiant, haughty an
swer, she could not do it. Bone stronger feel
ing seemed to chain her tongue; her lips wore
trembling, her blue eyes were misty with hot,
swi i tears.
Bhe turned toward him, and, at the same in
stant, by some subtile magnetism, his unwilling
glance was drawn back to her face, aud he s aw
the quivering of those haughty lips and the
strange mistiness of those proud blue eyes.
A startled look swept over hie face. Dark
with passionate scorn and heart-wrung bitter
ness, as it was, it changed like magic to wonder,
then softened to an indescribable expression as
their glances met.
“Lilian! Lilian!” he uttered hoarsely, as
she tried to turn away. “ Have I misunder
stood you? Do yon care something, alter all?
Do you, Lilian ? Tell me 1”
“ And if 1 should ” —she answered back in
swift, subdued tones, her lips still trembling—
“lf I wore to say ‘Lance, I do care—l love you ’
—why, it were better le t unsaid. Such a con
fession now would be too late.”
“ IJ would not,” lie whispered passionately.
“ You are not yet bound by marriage. Free
yourself now, Julian—darling—while you may 1”
Unconsciously he had bent nearer toward
her, almost forgetting the presence of others in
the room. But she moved away from him.
“ Hush 1” she said proudly, though her low
tones were scarcely audible. “ No; 1 will not.
1 gave my promise to him freely, voluntarily—
no one coerced me—the wedding-day is near at
hand, and I will not be so dishonorable as to
break my vows and crush with shame the man
who expeois mo to bo his wife.”
Lance looked and listened, white to the very
lips. He was about to speak, but it was too
late now. Some of the visitors were approach
ing them, and ho fell back a pace or two, sum
moning all his will power to meet them with a
natural look on bis passionate, handsome face.
But a few minutes had been spent in that low
toned, thrilling interview, and any one who
might have cast a glance in that direction would
not have dreamed there was anything more
vital being talked of than the beauties or de
tects of the several paintings near which they
stood.
Miss Fessenden was lucky at last; she had
discovered the very picture she wanted in Mr.
Derrick e studio; and that, too, without even
consulting Lilian’s taste. The breezy little
maiden did not know it, bnt she had changed
the current of three lives that day.
If Lilian kept on steadily with her wedding
preparations, it was with a paling cheek, and
sometimes a stolen sigh that no one noticed.
“Do you know, Lilian,”laughed a cheery ma
tron, who caught sight ot some of the bewilder
ing trousseau, “I once fancied the bridegroom
at your wedding would be no other than Lance
Derrick ? Bnt I’m glad it was only fancy. He
is very devoted to my Marjorie of late, and, be
tween yon aud me, my dear, I shall be only too
well pleased to get him in our family.”
“Devoted to Marjorie 1” How those words
kept ringing in Lilian’s brain as she listened to
the gay chit-chat going on around her 1
The next day she was pale and spiritless, and
when the appointed wedding-day arrived the
lovely bride-elect was lying on her conch, white
and fragile as a snow wraith, fading away with
a slow and exhausting fever.
There was no wedding. Bnt weeks after,
when birds sang and flowers bloomed again, the
invalid was taken to a charming country-place
the home of a loving aunt—where, everybody
declared, she would soon regain her roses.
Her marriage, which was only postponed, not
broken off, was now to take place in the early
Autumn.
Quite often her affianced lover ran down to see
her; but the roses would not come back to her
white cheeks, the roundness to her wasted form,
nor the buoyant lightness to her languid step.
“ How different you are from the brilliant,
sparkling belle of one year ago!’ remarked
I’erry Marvin, In a rather discouraged tone; one
evening. “’Ton my word, Lilian, 1 begin to
fear you will never be your old bright self
again.”
And, even ,as he spoke, his eyes roved admir
ingly to a dashing cherry-cheeked brnnetto,
ilaughing gayly out on the piazza—for Lilian’s
Vaunt kept a tew aristocratic Summer boarders.
Lilian’s blue eyes followed bis glance with a
listless smile. It was not the first time she had
noticed the little straw which showed so plainly
which way the wind was veering.
“ You are growing tired of our engagement,
Ferry,” she said, very quietly, “and I do not
blame you. So am 1,1 think. Would you not
like to end it?”
Mr. Marvin colored hotly, and protested.
Still both realized that the end had come, and
both lelt glad to hear it.
A week after, as Lilian sat reading in the
sweet rose-scented garden, she was startled by
a quick familiar step on the gravel walk, and,
springing to her eet, found herself lace to lace
with Lance Derrick—Lance Derrick, whose
handsome dark eyes were shining like two stars
in his sudden happiness.
“ Ive heard the good news, darling,” he cried,
catching her in hie arms before she could say
one word. “Don’t tell me there’s any mistake
about it, Lilian ’’—his strong voice thrilling pas
sionately—” I couldn’t bear that now I”
Long before that sweet talk was ended the
roses had come back to Lilian’s white cheeks,
and they had come to stay—especially when she
learned that Lance s “devotion to Mar orie” had
been but the wild and vain effort of a half-mad
dened lover to crush out his hopeless passion
for her own sweet self.
A TEXASGHOSfSTORY.
SOME BLOOD-CURDLING MANI
FESTATIONS.
(Fromthe Dallas (Tex.) Nevis.)
Dr. Arch Cochran and Mr. William Greenlaw
spent last Tuesday night in the reported haunt
ed house on Griffin street, but either the ghost
did not care to entertain such distinguished
guests, or it may have been its off night, as it
came not. Both of the gentlemen,ithrough the
night long, kept their eyes strained and their
ears cocked for spectres, but neither heard nor
saw anything that could not be accounted for
through the operation of natural laws.
A reporter, guided by the light of the bright
polar star, visited the scene of the spiritual dis
turbances the following night and found quite a
stream of people engaged on a like mission.
There were white people and black people, b.ut
while the former knocked at the door, and
askedfor tho latest developments, the latter
clung to the distant fences like “coons,” and
were satisfied with what the returning visitors
would tell them, which was frequently highly
exaggerated.
The reporter met a young lady, a member of
the family, who said that the stream of visitors
had been unbroken since morning. She had
made up her mind not to remain another night
in the house, and she had only remained there
that long because her mother had been taken
sick as the result of the shock which her nerves
underwent at the hands of the apparition, whose
antics threw the Rochester knockings entirely
in the shade.
The iamily, to follow up the recital of the
young lady, which was given on condition that
her name should not appear in print, moved in
to the house about a month ago. A few nights I
later the young lady’s parents were aroused by
what they imagined was somebody trying to
pull the blankets oft the bed, speedily followed
by a movement of the bed itself, which was
rudely twisted and shaken by what on exami
tion proved to be unseen hands.
These manifestations were followed or accom
panied on different nights by others of a still
more blood-curdling character. Pistol-shots
would be heard, seemingly fired in the hall and
followed by smothered groans, like those of a
woman or a child, which, at times, would bo ac
companied by voices too indistinct to catch
their meaning. The shots were distinctly heard
by Mr. Greenlaw and other neighbors, who
imagined that they must have been fired at
dogs, or for other purposes not inconsistent
with earthly existence.
It is also affirmed that the ghost materialized
to an old lady, approaching her with the solt
movement of a moonbeam, end appearing as a
white woman in a white garment. The appari
tion placed over the old lady’s face its hands,
which felt like the puft of a cold, damp norther.
The old lady muttered, “ What do you want?”
and the apparition vanished into thin air at the
sound of the question.
At times, with the full light turned on, sounds
are beard as if produced by a rubber ball
bouncing on the floor and striking at short in
tervals and distances. The window curtains
have been rattled and the windows knocked on
as if with knuckles, while the shiuing moon dis
closed no presence.
The colored cook, as might be expected, did
NEW YORK DISPATCH, MARCH 27, 1887
not Bland it Ion". Early in the proceeding©, as
j sbo was engaged at the work of preparing eup
! per, her dreae was pulled violently. Turning
' around with an exclamation, “ ’Fore God!
what dat?” she discovered nothing. Her next
movement was homeward bound, and she has
not since returned.
It would be bogging the question, in face of
the evidence of the senses, to say that there is
nothing in all this, and the case presents an
opportunity lor the local mediums to establish
their reputation by an exploration of the mys
tery. The reporter was informed that there are
no rats in the house, and that some of tho mani
festations have been witnessed by strong lamp
light.
MOUNTAIN BULLIES.
Two Interesting Tennessee Specimens—
Always “Spiling ” for a Fight.
(From the Louisville Courier-Journal,')
The mountain bully is not unlike his kind met
with elsewhere, except in his habits, which are
instinctively formed by circumstances and sur
roundings. He abounds in large numbers
throughout the Fast Tennessee mountains and
generally makes bis headquarters about the
Summer resorts, country stores, elections,
shooting matches, and wherever there is a
. crowd gathered.
Ho is always “ spiling” for a fight, and fre
quently gets his satisfaction, usually from some
quiet dispokrtioned person who “ han t much to
say.” The mountain Unify gets about half lull,
goes to a shooting match, chews tobacco, blows
about his conquests and his ability to lick the
best man in the State, runs upon a "say-nothin”
sort of fellow, who puts a head on him and an
end to his braggadocio talk.
Nearly every frequenter of Montvale, a
charming resort in Blount county, knows or has
hoard of Mose Blevins. Mose is’ something o a
fixture, and has been lor many years. He
scorns work, and puts in his entire time squirrel
hunting, or trying his skill in a shooting match.
Almost any day during tho season he can be
seen somewhere abont the grounds with his
long ride and coouskin hunting pouch. He is
nearly six feet four, angular, raw-boned aud
shabby looking. He wears bis hair long, and
ilia face is covered with a shaggy black beard.
He swaggers as he walke, and swears like a
troops c.
To every man who will listen h-e unfolds won
derful stories of his prowess and his victories
at the shooting matches; of how he “fetches a
squirrel from the highea’ treetop in the mount
ings” with his rifle, and how he beat Bill Simp
son lor the best- hind quarter of a beet at the
last match, “ knockin’ out th’ center a hundred
stops’thout a rest,” and such other wonderful
feats as his memory or imagination could pro
duce. Now the a dresaid Bill Simpson was a
splendid shot himself. Ho and Mose were jeal
ous of each other, Mose being far the more jeal
ous of the two. Ono day a visitor at the springe
concluded to have a trial of Mose’s grit.
“ See here, Mose I Bill Simpson says if yon
say you can,beat him on the shoot, you lie, aud
he eau lick you with one hand tied,” is the way
tiie visitor put it to Mose as he stood near the
spring loading his gun.
“ How's that?”
“Just as I tell yon.”
“ Well, I’ve been a-wantin’ ter walk Inter that
gol-dnrned galoot ever since I knowed him. an’
1 swar right here, stranger, that I ain’t a’ gwine
to leave enough o’ bis ekunky earcus to turn up
at the funeral. Whar is he? Dad burn my
skin, 111 fix him. The Blevin has been byar fur
fifty years, an’ nary livin’ man bee ever made
one of ’em take a beck seat yit. They’re the
best grit about cher, an’ don't offer target that,
nother.”
“ Well, Bill ie looking for you, Mose, and he
is prepared, too.”
With thia Mose started off “ lookin’ ” for Bill.
He would ask every one he met if Bill Simpeon
“hed b’n seed’round anywhar,” at the same
time explaining the object to be attained by an
interview with the eaid Bill. By a preconcerted
arrangement BUI appeared upon the scene with
a huge elub in one hand and a stone in the
other. Mose began to turn pale aud started to
explain, but he hadn't time before Bill made
known hie business.
“Look here, Mose Blevins,” he began, “I’vo
beam ez bow you’re a-goim ter clean me up.
Ef yer ready, pitch m. I han’t th’ kin’ o’ stuff
’lows th’ people ter talk ter my back.”
“Lor’ Bill, yer a jokin’, han’t ye?” stam
mered Mose, trying his best to look surprised.
" Ko, I han’t a jokin’ nother. Did ye say y«
was a-goin’ ter lick me, Mose, th’ fus’ time ye
seed me?”
“Somebody’s been a-lyin’ ter ye, 'kause I
han’t hed nothin’ ter say about ye; ’pon my
word I han’t But look here, Bill, you know
me. If ever I sez I’m gwiue ter give yer a
lickin', yer kin jez look for it. That's th’ kin’
er stuff th’ Blevins is.”
It was several days after this before Mose
turned up at the springs again. He was ac
costed by his friend, the visitor, who accused
him of being a coward in his dealings with
Bill Simpson.
“it wuzn’t that,” replied Mose. “ Bill hez a
large family, an’ I hain’t roun’ makin’ widders
an’ orfnns.”
“ Now, Mose, I’ll give you a chance to show
yonr grit.”
“ Wall, now, jes’ keep talkin’l”
“ I'll bet $lO to ten cents that you cannot and
will not bite that hound’s tail off close up,”—
pointing to the mongrel lying near—“aud 1 dare
you to take the bet.”
“I’ll jes’go yon,” replied Mose, picking up
the hound with both hands.
He clenched hisgteetb on the caudle append
age of his houudsbip, and with a vigorous snap
out the tail s quare off, showing the wonderful
strength ot his jaws, and displaying, as he re
marked it, “the old-lasbioned Blevins grit.”
A large crowd witnessed the per ormance, and
applauded Mose as he triumphantly walked off
with the stakes.
A few years ago there died in a mountain
county in East Tennessoo a man who wav a
noted bully. He was a splendid specimen of
physical manhood, and was in every respect a
fighting bully. He would fight at the drop of a
hat, and could knock out a halt dozen ordinary
men in one round. He would fight for the tau
of it, and he who would dare cross hia path
was indeed a reckless man.
In the old days of State militia and “muster”
be was a prominent man in his neighborhood
and colonel of a militia regiment. On muster
days, when the drill was over, he would pro
ceed to clean up the regiment. When he, sued
bis eoat, twisted bis huge fist around a few
times, and yelled at the top of his voice:
“ Hide out, little ’uns, I’m a cornin’ 1” there
would be a general stampede. This was how
be came to hs called “Old Hide Out” in alter
years.
When the late war came on, he joined a Con
federate regiment, and made a brave, fearless
soldier. During a slight skirmish hie company
had with tho Fedorals down in Georgia, he took
his gun by the muzzle, and, with his old-time
watch-word, “ Hide out, little ’uus, I’m a
cornin’ 1” rushed into the midst of the Federal
soldiers, putting them to flight, not, however,
without receiving a serious wound in the head,
which put him into the hospital lor months, and
permanently injured his mind.
When he returned to his native county he
was not the tearless bully of old, but a much
broken, stoop-shouldered and crazy old man.
He would stroll through the neighborhood aim
lessly, and seemingly unconscious of his where
abouts, always muttering to himself as he went:
“ Hide out, little ’uns, I’m a cornin’.” Little
boys and girls would make sport of him, and
“ Old Hide-Out,’ as they called him, paid no
heed to their mockery, lie bad become per
fectly harmless.
At last the bld man became mor,tally ill. He
was alone in a little cabin provided for bis use
by an old comrade in the army. A few friends
who bad known him in his better days gathered
around bis humble couch, expecting the end. It
was now late in the afternoon, and the old fellow
had not spoken for days. He was rapidly sink
ing, and some one remarked that he would go
down with the sun, which was then pouring its
last rays through tho chinks and crevices ot the
cabin wall. Just then his face seemed to lighten
up, bis eyes twinkled, and be opened his lips:
“ Hide out, little ’uns, I’m com .”
But he never completed the sentence. He had
gone.
A FINE BOY.
AND A KIND-FACED OLD GENTLE-
- — . if A .
The Chicago Herald gives the following anec
dote, related by one whom it calls a “kind-faced
old gentleman,” who had lor a tenant a child
not more than ten years old.
A few years ago I got a chance to buy a piece
of land over on the Wide Side, and I did so. I
noticed there was an old coop of a house on it,
but paid no attention to it. After awhile a man
came to me and wanted to know if I would rent
it to him.
“ What do you want it for ?” said I.
“To live in,” he replied.
“ Well,” said I, “you can have it. Pay me
what you think it is worth to you.”
The first month he brought $2, and the second
month a little boy who said he was the man s
son came with $3. Alter that I saw the man
once in awhile, but in the course ot time the boy
paid the rent regularly, sometimes $2 and some
times $3. One day I asked the boy what had
become of his father.
" He’s dead, sir,” was the reply.
‘•ls that so ?” said 1. “ How long since ?”
“ More’n a year;” he answered.
I took his money, but I made up my mind
that I would go over and investigate, and the
next day I drove over there. The old shed
looked quite decent. I knocked at tho door,
and a little girl let me in. I asked for her
mother. She said she didn’t have any.
“ Where is she ?” I said.
“We don’t know, sir. She went away after
my father died, and we’ve never seen her
since.”
Just then a little girl about three years old
came in, and I learned that these three chil
dren had been keeping bouse together for a
year and a half, the boy supporting his two lit
tle sisters by blacking boots and sell ng news
papers, and the elder girl managing the house
aud taking care ot the baby.
Well, I just had my daughter call on them,
and we keep an eye on thorn now. I thought I
wouldn't disturb them while they are getting
along. The next time the boy camo with the
rent I talked with him a little aud then said:
“My boy, keep right on as you have begun,
and you will never be sorry. Keep your little
sisters together and never leave them. Now,
look at this.”
J showed him a ledger in which I bad entered
up all the money that he had paid me for renl,
I and told him it was all his, with interest.
| “ You keep right on,” says I, “ and I’ll be
[ your banker, and when this amounts to a little
more I'll see that you get a house somewhere of
your own.”
GRAND HEROISM.
DIED TO SAVE A WOMAN AND
Il ER BABE.
(From the Pittsburg Leader.)
A number of battle-scarred veterans wore sit
ting around a oomiortabi© firs in General Tbos.
A. Rowley a Oiiice the other day, spinning yarns
of daring and heroism such as would make th©
blood of tho coldest tingle with, pleaaureablo
excitement. During a lull in the conversation,
the general aroused himself from a reverie into
which he had dropped, and, with a sigh, be
gan :
“Boys, you’ve been telling tales of battles;
of men who risked their lives for their country’s
good, but you, on© and all, have iorgotten to
mention the name of a man known to y u all
and against whose on© act of self-sacrific.n"
bravery your tables sink into insignificance. I
relor to Sergeant John Lytle a veteran of the
Mexican war, who survived that struggle only
to perish later in a nobler and more heroic
manner than did ever mortal man on a battle
field.
“ John was a brother of Bob Lytle, who is
now in the Bolinouerrt tax office. In ’ID he was
one of the first to’get the gold fover and leave
here for California. He was one of the few who
struck luck, and after a time he got together
quite a snug little fortune. It was then he tired
ei the Slope and decided to move into Mexico
which he did about ißt>7 or 18’58, embarking in
the cotton and oofiee raising business, and also
interesting himself in silver mining. Alter a
time bis health began to fail, and he started
overland to California for his he«lth. This was
in ’/O. For some reason or other he never com
pleted his journey, but instead took passage on
the steamer “Continental*’ with Capt. St. Lucas,
bound lor Mexico. When th© vessel was about
three days out there came up on© of those terri
ble cyclones that sometimes strike the Pacific
ocean, and against which no vessel is able to
sail. Well, the “Continental” was not an overly
strong ship and it sprung a lehk. Then began
the lowering ot the li ©boats, but on© by on© i-s
they reached the water, the wind would dash
them against the side of the vessel and smash
them to smithereens. At last the storm sub
sided, and it was well it did, tor the ill fated
“ Continental ” was rapidly sinking. It was
f'ound that there wej© but two liieboats left,
and at least seven more persons on board than
they would carry.
“ What was to b© don© ? Some one suggested
casting iota to see who should escape and who
should remain aud perisb. Lytle was lucky,
and drew a release ticket tor the last boat. It
was lowered and John was put into it Just as
it was about to push free from th© vessel, there
was a terrible shriek heard, and there, on the
last-sinking ship, stood six men and a woman.
It was the latter who had uttered tho cry. In
her arms was a babe, scarce a year old, and on
her face a look of anguish and terror that poor
Lytle could not stand.
“*Btop the boat, boys,’ he said, ‘and take
that woman and her child on board. I’ll take
her place on the vessel. She’s young and
strong, while at the most I haven’t a great wb 1©
to live. I might as well die now as later, and
despite all protests, he took his place on tho
“Continental,” while the unknown womaan and
her babe entered th© li e-boat and were saved.
The seven men pa the boat built a raft and
when th© ship sunk oast out To sea on it. They
were nover seen or heard of after. Lytle’s rela
tives after a time wrote to the consul at Mexico
and tried to recover or find out something about
bis estate, but to this day have received no reply.
His money, if he had any, and it is believed he
bad, has been confiscated by somebody or
other, and all remains is the memory of
his noble life and death.”
THE SERVANT' GIRL PROBLEM
IT IS, HOWEVER, ONLY ONE SIDE
OF THE QUESTION.
(From the Davenport (lowa)Democrat.)
In the Bitting room of • fine reslflenoo on the
central bluff in a telephone. Last Tuesday a
daughter ot the household stepped to the ’phone
to answer a call.
“Is that Mr. Bank’s ?”
“ Yes.”
“ Is Miss Wudler at home ?”
“ There is no such person here.”
_•• Yes, there is, and I wish you’d tell her that
her brother wants to talk with her.”
“ You are mistaken,” aud the young lady left
the instrument.
That afternoon a servant answered a ring at
the front door-ushered a young man into the
parlor, and said to lhe lady of the house that a
stranger wished to see her. The caller stated
that he was a brother of Miss Wndler.
“You mean ffelen, onr second girl.”
“Yes, that ie her given name— and somebody
at the telephone told me that she didn’t live
here.”
" That was my daughter, who doesn’t know
Helen’s other name— bnt what of it?”
“I want to say that my s star shan't work in
a house that won't let her use the telephone
when she wants to. and won't let her oat at the
family table ” —and he took his departure.
Sure enough, tho “Miss Wudler” went her
way that evening.
A couple of weeks since the Tribune contained
a satirical and very amus ng srt’ele on “need
less difficulty with servant girls.” The writer
stated that several of the wealthiest ladies iu
Chicago had adopted a plan which avoided ail
trouble w th domestics—worked to a charm.
Two afternoons in each week the domestics
were given the privilege of the parlors for the
reception of their friends, the use of tho piano
included, and one of the days the privileges ex
tended to eleven o'clock in the night, when
dancing was permissible.
The other day, a wife in a handsome home on
Mt. Ida, entered her kitchen and saw a long
newspaper slip pinned on the jamb of the pan
try door. She paid no attention to it, and after
giving some directions, turned to leave. Then
the kitchon girl, a young woman of twenty-two
years, stepped forward with the dipping in
hand.
“ Mrs. Preiser, when are you going to do like
this •” extending tho slip.
The lady looked at it—she had read the arti
cle before—and asked, with a laugh : “ What do
you mean ?”
“I think that Davenport girls are just as
good as Chicago girls, and ought to ba treated
as well, and if you won’t do it, I shan’t stay
here—that’s all.”
Th. girl was as good as her word : she bade
the mansion farewell the evening of that day.
WHiTfANiTBLACK.
A REMINISCENCE OF SLAVERY
TIMES.
The following correspondence, recslied by a
correspondent,.will explain upon what terms a
white man is willing to marry a colored woman:
Aububn, Oct. 15, 1860.
Mn. Fbbdektck Douglass: Dbab Sib—l take
the opportunity to address you a few words, as
follows: 1 have been informed that you had an
onely daughter and that you desired her to
marry a whight man; whereupon you giv
sl-5,000 or $20,000 dollars to any respectable
whigbt man that would marry her and cherish
her through life. If there is any truth in this
report P. 8. let me know, and 1 will marry your
daughter on those conditions, and will endeavor
to make mysell agreeable.
Yours respectfully, Chablbs Hati>.
To Frederick Douglass.
Direct to Charles Happ, Auburn, N. Y.
Boohbstbh, October 16, 1860.
Chablbs Happ, Esq.: Dkap. Sir:—You are an
entire stranger to me, and direct me to no one
from whom 1 can learn your real character and
roeponsibility. This, It no other difficulty ex
isted, would seriously embarrass me in making
a favorable answer to your proposition. You
should at least have given me one respectable
reference. The fact that you have not done so,
with other circumstances connected with your
letter, makes it quite doubtful whether I could
honorably accede toyour proposition. You date
from Auburn, and tell me to direct to you at
Auburn, but do not name the street. Pardon.,
me for regarding this, ae a suspicious circum
stanqe. You may be an inmate of the State
Prison, or on your way there—a fact which, you
see, would interfere with fulfilment of your part
of the proposed bargain, even if I could fulfil
the part you assign to me.
You want $15,000 or $20,000. This is a com
mon want, and you are not to blame for using
all honorable means to obtain it. But candor
requires me to state that if you were in every
respect a suitable person to be bought for the
purpose you name, I have not the money to buy
you. I have no objection to your complexion;
but there are certain little faults of grammar
and spelling, as well as other points in your
letter, which compel me to regard you as a per
son by education, manners and morale as wholly
unfit to associate with my daughter in any ca
pacity whatever. You evidently think your
white skin ot great value; I don’t dispute it; it
is probably the best thing about you. Yet not
even that valuable quality can commend you
sufficiently to induce even so black a negro as
myself to accept you as his son-in-law.
Eespect ully, Fubdebick Douglass.
OUiSiDITTHE DOOR.
A VERY UNCOMFORTABLE POSI
TION.
(From the Danbury News.)
To stand en dishabille outside of. one’s own
door at midnight is a sufficient experience for
one man, and his assertion that it was cold can
not be doubted. A gentleman living on Far
view avenue had, Friday morning, an unpre
meditated experience at about ball-past one
o clock, when the wind was blowing its strong
est and the thermometer at its lowest.
A pet cat had accidentally been shut inside.
Her crying awakened the gentleman, and his
fondness for the animal suggested to him that
he should take her out to the barn. Arising
from his bed, and without other clothing on,
he took the cat in hand, and with bare feet and
limbs he carried the oat to comfortable quar
ters.
Returning, he found that he had closed the
door behind him, and the spring-lock had put
in its work, and he was left outside. He rattled
and pounded the door for time that seemed to
him an hour. His wife quietly lay and heard
his pounding, thinking that be was in another
room hunting rats or something of the kind.
He thought to extend his walk around to the
front doorand ring hie door-bell, but did not
dare to do it—those bare poles might attract
the attention of some passer-by. Just as he
was about to smash in one of the rear windows
his wife came to his rescue. Whether to be mad
or not at his own doings he hardly knew. As
he warmed himself the self-inflicted joke was
more pleasing, and this morning he has en
joprod telling hia experience to a few intimate
friends, who will never tell.
TH E’RUSH AJNJHUKC H.
A BRIEF BUT INTERESTING HIS
TORY.
the Chicago Inter-Ocean.)
Th© great majority of th© inhabitants of Rus
sia belong to the Russian Church, which is a
branch of, and is identical in doctrine with, the
Greek Church. Christianity was introduced
into Russia in the ninth century. In the great
schism between th© Eastern and Western
churches tlie Christians of Russia were divided
in sentiment, but later they generally gave in
tbeir adherence to th© Greek party.
In 1589 the Buesim Church was made a
patriarchate, subordinate, however, to the
patriarch of Constantinople. This subordina
tion was acquiesced in for about a century, and
was then repudiated by tho patriarch Nikon,
who claimed authority to alter the ritual of the
church, and even to disregard civil power.
One of the first reforms, therefore, of Peter
the Great, was the suppression of the patri
archate and th© direct subordination oi the
church to th© civil authority. Re acted very
cautiously in the matter, appointing, on tho
death ol th© patriarch Adrian in 170?, an acting
director of ecclesiastical affairs, with th© title
ot exarch, to act until a new patriarch could be
chosen, and when, alter an interval of twenty
years, the public mind had partially iorgotten
the patriarchate, th© office was formally abol
ished. and the administration of church affairs
placed under the direction ot a council ot bish
ops and archbishops appointed by tho em
peror.
Under the direction ot this council a complete
revision ot th© doctrine, discipline, and gov
ernment of th© church took place, and th©
changes being approved by the Ozar, th© new
code was adopted by th© Russian Church. In
doctrine the church’ does not differ materially
from the main body of the Greek Church. The
liturgy used is th© same as that of th© church
at Constantinople, but it is not read in Greek,
but in the Slavonic tongue.
One of the principal objects of th© imperial
policy toward the church, inaugurated by Teter
the Great, has been a general uui ormity of re
ligions opinion throughout tbo empire. Dis
sent, in all its forms, has not only boen discour
aged, but in many cases rigorously repressed,
and it has only been during late years tnat gen
eral toleration has been permitted.
Th© Roman Catholic Church, forming the
largest body of dissentients, has been the ob
ject of especial severity, particularly undergthe
Czar Nicholas. Th© next largest body of dis
senters is generally called the askulnika, but
they style themselves tho Cdd Believers. They
withdrew from the church at the time that
changes were introduced into its ritual by the
Patriarch Nikon, and they have never agreed to
acknowledge the Czar as bead of the church.
They have o- ten been severely persecuted by
the government.
The established church is still granted som©
special privileges. Non© of its members are
allowed le to another denomination, and
all children of mixed marriages are declared to
be under its control, In other respects, under
tho laws of Alexander IL, all Catholics and
Protestants enjoy equal civil rights with mem
bers of the established church, and are equally
admissible to the highest offices of the empire,
while even unconverted Tartars aro allowed to
hold military offices.
PLEA SANIWSREfIREMENT
HE ILLUSTRATES I r WITH AN
ANECDOTE.
(From Washington Cor. of Indianapolis News.)
Just be r ore leaving Washington I was talking
with General Pleasanton on the su ject of cav
alry service during the war, and in the course
o th© conversation Pleasanton said that Gen
eral Sheridan was th© greatest cavalry -soldier
ol the age. General Pleasanton himself was a
gallant commander ot cavalry, and his opinion
on the subject is worth something. Poor
Pleasanton ! He has been disappointed acaio
with regard to the bill ter bis retirement. I
asked him what his prospects were, and he said
he oould illustrate them better by a little story.
Pleas in ton is on© ot those with a Mark Tapley
temperament. No matter what back-set be has
or how hard-np be m»y be, he comes up smil
ing, and is always ready to illustrate his own
mislortnnes with a little story.
In this instance he said that his case was a
good deal like tbatol the old Southern gentle
man, who was being shaved by a darkey and a
dull razor.
The darkey had almost wrung tears from the
eyes of the old gentlemen. Sometimes he cut
tho hairs; sometimes he pulled them up by th©
roots.
“ Won’t you ever got through, you rascal?’'
shouted the old gentleman, rising in bis chair.
“ Well, deed, boss, if dis yer razor’s back
don't break, I’s© bound to get through.”
General Pleasanton says that it his back don’t
break he thinks he will get bis bill through
some time. He left to bis listener the inference
oi how tough it was on him to await the issue.
A Woman’s Thoughtfulness.
SHE WANTED ' A CROSS-EYED
DOLL.
One of those revelations of the gentler side of
human nature which I prize when they come in
my way—not for their rarity, for they are plenty
enough if one but keeps himself in a mood to
notice them, but because they make a hard
world so much pleasanter -came to me the
other day. It was a plain woman, in whose ap
pearance one would not find indications of ex
treme deliccy of sentiment, or more than usual
thoughtfulness for others, and ah© was “shop
ping” lor som© household article in one of the
great bazaars where is offered everything from
a child’s rattle to a drawing-room carpot.
She had made her purchase, and was yield
ing to the pleading of a little girl, who held her
by the hand, to examine the dolls that bung,
like Bluebeard’s wives, in a melancholy row on
the wall opposite. She seemed to waver, and,
finally, to give a partial consent, for she leaned
across tho counter, and, in a voice too low for
the little one to catch, made what seemed to me
an astonishing inquiry of the nonchalant sales
man, whether he had “any cross-eyed dolls.”
I at first thought this only an effort at economy
by selecting unsalable goods at a lower price,
but, as the attendant “ cash ” returned from the
search, and a strabismic doll was produced, I
caught sight ol the upturned face or the little
girl, on which delight beamed forth from eyes
with a distinct cast in them. I then understood
it, and I think I appreciated the delicacj' which,
even in the choice ot a toy, had regard for a
sensitiveness which might have been ruffied
had tho puppet been more perfect in physical
attraction than its little owner.
Sydney Smith as an Exaggeratob. -
Ko man, we think, ever equaled Sydney Smith
in the wit of extravaganza. He understood
better than any other the artistic use of exag
geration. Mere exaggeration is not wit: nor can
we lay down any law lor making it become so.
It succeeds, when it does succeed, not by rule
or method, but by a certain natural happy in
stinct, impossible to analyze, but which acts by
intuition. It was in tins faculty that Sydney
Smith excelled all men.
We will take a few examples: “The Scots
would have you believe thc<y can ripen fruit; and,
to be candid, I must own that in remarkably
warm.Summqra I have tasted peaches that
.made most excellent pickles.” Part of the effect
of this is due,'noqloubt, to the art with which it
is expressed—to its air of candid confession,
which seems to be yielding the point in favor of
the Scots, at the very moment’when it tells so
ludicrously against them. Again:
“ When so showy a woman as Mrs. ap-
pears at a place, though there is no garrison
within twelve miles, the horizon is immediately
clouded with majors.” In this case it is not so
much the mere exaggeration which gives it its
effect as the grotesqnerie of the picture which it
presents to the mind’s eye. Again: “ Such is
the horror the French have of our cuisine, that
at the dinner given in honor of Guizoq at the
Athenaenm, his cook was heard to exclaim. ‘Ah,
my poor master, 1 shall never Bee him again
alter an English dinner !’ ”
It is, perhaps, scarcely necessary to say that
Guizot's cook, ot course, never exclaimed ”
anything of the kind, and that Sydney Smith in
vented the whole story. And a fine example of
artistic exaggeration it is.
Time in Dreamland. —Says the “ Re
vue Seientifique: I dreamed that I was sitting
with a police official at hie office, and we were
discuss ng some fantastic story, when an em
ployee came in and sat down beside ns, leaning
with his elbows on the table. I looked up and
said to him, “ You have forgotten to make the
soup.” “ No, no; come with me.” We went
out together, going across long corridors, I
walking behind him, at the college where 1 had
been brought up. He went into a wing ol the
house which I knew well, and which led to the
class rooms. Under the stairs he showed me a
stove on which stood an oyster shell with a lit
tle white paint in it. (I had been mixing water
colors the day before.) “ But yon have forgot
ten the vegetables. Go to the porter at the oth
er end of the courtyard; you will find them
there on a table.” I waited lor a long time; at
last I saw him making signs to me that he had
found nothing. “It is at the le t hand side,” I
shouted, and saw him cross the yard, coming
back with an immense cabbage. 1 took a kni.e
from my pocket, winch I always kept there, and
at the moment when I was going to cut the ve
getable I was awakened by tbe noise of a bowl
of soup being put heavily on the marble top of
the table next to my bed. it appears to me that
the idea ol soup was suggested to me by the
smell at the moment when tho door was opened
by tbe servant bringing in the soup while I was
asleep, and it takes five seconds at the most to
walk from the door to tbe bed.
A Monastic Navy.—According to a
| Russian newspaper, an engineer has just ar
rived at Motala, in Sweden, to take over a
steamer that is being built lor the monks ot
Solovetsk. This vessel will make the sixth
steamer belonging to the monks, who use them
to convey to their monastery the 30,000 pil
grims that annually repair to the place. The
monastery is situated on the largest of the
three islands forming the Solovetsk group.
The island measures fifteen miles in length by
ten in breadth, and is only accessible irom the
middle of May until the middle ot September.
During this period steamers owned by the
monks run regularly to Archangel and back,
charging very little lor the double voyage,
and in the case of very poor pilgrims
noth ng at all. Each pilgrim, moreover,
according to ancient custom, is boarded
and lodged lor nothing at an inn belonging to
the monastery. Beside its shrine, Solovetsk is
famous lor its mines of talc, large quantities of
which are exported to Russia and abroad. A
peculiar feature about the Solovetsk steamersis
that they are all manned by monks and com
m aided by monastic captains. The mainmast
ot each steamer is surmounted by a golden
cross, in the time ot Peter the Greit the walls
ot the monastery were defended by ninety cannon
and during a rebellion against the government
sustained a siege ot two years. During the Cri
mean War the monks claim to have driven o T
the English fleet by. tiring some of the x>ld
cannon remaining and marching in procession
round the monastery walls. Although the fleet
owned by the monks does not pay expenses the
offerings of the pilgrims make up for the loss,
the monastery being one of the wealthiest in Rus
sia. At present the number ot monks exceeds
two hundred.
Strange Scene in Paris.—An'extra
ordinary scene was witnessed the other day in
the lower or river side part of tboQuai du Lou
vre, Paris, where the wash-houses which float
in the Seine are moored. While the laundresses
were busily engaged in their avocations, some,
itinerant musicians came and played a selection
of popular airs. The nymphs of the washtub
instantly left their boat and organized an open
air ballon the quay, to the delectation of all the
vagabonds in the locality and the amazement ot
the serious folk who happened to be passing
near the place. The laundresses footed ic with
great spirit to the merry measures for some
time, when a policeman suddenly appeared
among them and ordered the wandering fid
dlers and harpists to put up their instruments
and the washers to return to their soapsuds.
Thereupon tho crew ot loafers, furious at the
termination of an entertainment which was giv
ing them so much pleasure, fell upon the po
liceman, and, alter having beaten and sta'bbed
him, were about to throw him into the river,
when three or four ot his colleagues came up
and charged the herd of rascals with their
swords. There was then a general stampede,
the blackguards making off in every direction.
Six ot them were, however, arrested. The at
tacked policeman had a narrow escape :rom
death. Before help arrived he was altogether
at the mercy of his assailants, not one of the
crowd of people who witnessed the proceedings
from the upper part ot the quay venturing to go
to tils assistance.
Ma sage.—ln nervous prostration and
weariness from overwork, the tendency of the
blood is to leave the arteries and become en
gorged In the veins. Massage, rightly employed,
aids in the restoration of the normal circula
tion and thus helps the system to right itself.
The patient is extended upon a lounge or bed,
and the operator begins with one tool, squeez
ing it gently with the bands as though it were a
sponge tilled with wafer ana he were squeezing
the water from it, and working always toward
the heart. The hands of the operator clasp the
limbs with a firm but gentle grasp, and apply
this squeezing, pinching pressure all the way
from the bands and feet to where those limbs
oin the body, not rubbing the skin, but press
ing and workin" the muscles under it. The
muscles of the cnest, neck and abdomen, will
receive the same treatment. Then the patient
gives his back to the operator. All adown the
back are large veins, and these become en
gorged with blood. The operator kneads and
pinches and squeezes and presses all the mus
cles of tbe back for a long time, until a pink
tint flushes the skin. All about the face, the
neck, the back of the neck espec ally, there are
many veins, and the muscles which they trav
erse are thoroughly handled until the circula
tion is free. Tbe patieirt soon begins to find re
lief, and sinks to sleep or into a delicious dispo
sition to he still and rest, which disposition
should be encouraged as long as it lasts.
1 he Rat’s Weai ons. — The rat is finely
equipped for the peculiar life he is ordained to
lead. He has strong weapons in the shape of
tour long and very sharp teeth—two in the up
per .jaw and two in the lower. These teeth are
wedge-shaped, and by a wonderful provision of
nature have always a fine, sharp, cutting edge.
On examining them carefully, the inner part is
found to be of a soft, ivory-like composition,
which can easily be worn away, and the outside
is composed of a gLss-like enamel, which is ex
ceedingly hard. Tbe upper teeth work into the
under so that the centers of the opposed teeth
meet perfectly in the act ot gnawing, hence the
soft part is being continually worn away, while
the hard part.keeps a sharp, chisel-like edge all
the time, and at tbe same time the teeth are
constantly growing up Irom tbe bottom, so that
as they wear away a Iresh supply is ready.
Should one of these teeth be removed by acci
dent or otherwise, the opposing tooth will con
tinue to grow, and there being nothing to wear
it away, it will pro ect from the mouth and be
turned upon itself, and if it be an under tooth
it will often grow so long as to penetrate the
skull.
An Ancient Indian.—“A half-breed
named Nicholas Chattolain has just been found
at Dog Head, Lake Winnepeg, who was a con
temporary of Tecumseh, the great Indian chief,
famous in connection with the war of 1812,”
says a writer in tho Wisconsin State J turn a .
“ Chattelain is now ninety-five years of age, but
still erect and active in his movements. In his
youth be must have been a magnificent man
physically, standing six feet three in bis stock
ings, and gifted with great strength and endur
ance. He belonged originally to Sault Ste.
Marie, but being in the vicinity of Detroit when
the war of 1812 broke out, he joined the British
army and served under Brock at tbe storming
of Detroit. He then allied himself to Tecum
seh, and followed that chief’s varying fortunes
in his war with Harrison until bis defeat and
death at Thamesville. At the close of the war
Cattelain returned to the upper lakes, where he
pursued the vocation of a boatman and hunter
in the service o the Hudson Bay company. For
bis services in the field and council he was given
a pension by the Dominion government of $250
a year.
The Colors of Canaries.—With re
gard to the yellow color of the canary and its
testimony to Mr. Darwin’s theory, it is said that
after domestication in Belgium, Germany and
England (a point with which temperature of
climate may have Lad something to do), the
birds threw ud on tbe feathers small patches of
yellow ot lighter color, and by care.ully match
ing those birds that had the largest number of
these patches, the breeders at length, and after
a considerable period, succeeded in obtaining
bri, bland uniform yellow color, more closely
resembling what are called the “clear” birds of
to-day. But the application of the phrase “ ca
nary color,” to indicate a special shade of yel
low, though general, Is not justified by the
tacts. Canaries of pure breed are to be found
of many colors. Whole breeds are green; and,
by feeding on pepper and other seeds, canaries
have been produced of cinnamon and coffee
color, and even of red; and, in the Lizard varie
ty, the bird, though yellow in the crown, is else
where shaded and spangled in the most lovely
manner.
Reality.—lt is the sublime immensity
of the sea that gives to the waves their grace
and brilliance, the strength and stability of the
mounta ns that give charm to their variety of
highland shape as we view them irom a dis
tance, the long stretch of level ground that
causes our pleasure in the hill or lake that
breaks upon our sight. Art, in like manner, to
be pleasing, must give us somewhat ot a mono
tone before its novelty can charm. In archi
tecture there must be massive walls and pillars,
and tho decoration m-ust be subordinate. In
painting, the background must be strong and
clear to give effect to the picture. In music, the
monotonous passage must be prolonged to a
certain extent to give rest to the changes that
delight the ear. So. in life, there must be same
ness if any benefit is to be derived irom change.
There must be rest before motion, home before
travel, work before play, duty before pleasure.
A Remarkable People.—A curious
anthropological discovery id announced Irom
Spain by Prof. Miguel Marazta. In the valley
of Rebas, at the end of the Eastern Pyrenees,
there exists a somewhat numerous group of
people, called N ns, or dwar’s, by tbe other
inhabitants. They are less than tour feet tall,
are quite well built, with small hands and seet,
and are given an exaggerated appearance of
robustness by broad hips and shoulders. All
havered hair; the face is as broad as long, with
high cheek bones, strongly-developed jaws and
fiat nose. The eyes are somewhat oblique, like
those of Tartars and Chinese. A few straggling
hairs take the place of a beard. The skin is
pale and flabby. Men and women are so much
alike that the sex can only be told from tbe
clothing. They are without education, and be
ing ridiculed by the other inhabitants, live by
themselves, and continue to reproduce their
peculiarities by intermarriage umong them
selves.
Didn’t Know the Style.—Tho wife of
a Supreme Gouri Justice called on the wife of a
Senator living on Capitol Hill in Washington.
Tbe Justice’s wife had her bonnet strings flying.
“ Excuse me, your bonnet is untied,” said tbe
hostess. “ Oh, that’s the stvle,” said tbe caller,
and the Senator’s wi e blushed to think she did
not know the style in bonnet strings. This was
not so bad a blunder as was made recently. A
member’s wiie, wearing a camel’s hair suit,
made of the most fashionable long-haired goods,
called on a Senator s wife, “uh, Mrs. Smith/’
said the Senator’s wife, “you have • een walk
ing near some horses, or perhaps it was a eat, ’
and, suiting the action to the word, she began
to pick the hairs irom her Culler’s dress.
Blushes were mutual when the explanation was
made.
A man is wiser for his learning, and
the sooner be learns that the only proper way
to cure a cough or cold is to use Dr. Bull’s
Cough Syrup, the better he is ofl.
She Did It Herself. -Men are quite
| willing that women should do a hundred things
I which are physically more laborious than cast
| ing a vote. The solicitude some o them express
tor fear suffrage may in ure the health ot
women recalls a story told bv Mies Eastman.
When school suffrage for women was still a new
thing, a hard-working woman appeared at the
door of the pol'.ing nlaee in a eon itry town, to
cast her first vote. A politician instantly bustled
up to her, and offered his arm with great gal
lantry to escort her to the ballot box, saying,
“Let me assist you, madam.” The woman
looked at him, and answered: “ If von had been
around this morning at five o’clock, when I was
mnking the fire, bringing in w«»d and water
‘ and getting breakfast, I might have been glad*
of some help; but if it is only about dropping
this bit of paper into that bo ; r that yon want to
help me, I think I can do that myself.” And
she did.
A Crime-Cursed Village—There is
a charming Arcadian village, called La Tour,
situated near Privas, in tho Southern Depart
ment of Ardeche, writes tbe Paris correspond
ent of the London Telegw >h 9 which has become
uninhab.table owing to tho number of crimes
which have been committed therein of late. A
short time ago a widow named ‘toche was mur
dered there by her nephew and uiece after she
Lad made her will in their favor. Tho other
day two small farmers quarrelled with each
other over a small strip of ground which each
claimed as his own. The dispute was adjusted
by one of the improvise I 1 tiganta kicking the
viscera out of his. antagonist and leaving him
for dead on the field. The inhabitants of La
justly terrified at the epidemic of crime
which has swept over their ence peaceful ham
let, have left their homes in a body and mL
grated to less bloodstained regions.
Is She a Pork Butcher by Trade ? —
The Empress of Austria is very proud of the
produce of her fine Hchoenhrunn farm. She
recently sent a fine ham, weighing twenty-two
pounds, to her sister, addressed, “To the
Countess de Trani, at Baden, from her sister,
the Empress of Austria,” but Ike certificate ot
origin which should have accompanied it was
forgotten, and the custom officers at Limbach
detained the parcel, and sent to the inspector of
markets at Vienna, a printed 'erm, whioh, filled
up, read as follows : “ A p ro d is lying at th©
customs addressed to the Cenntess de Trani*
Please inform us if the sender, the Empress of
Austria, resides at Vienna and is a perk butcher
by trade.” A satisfactory answer was returned.
Capabilities of Wulta-—Various at
tempts are in progress to get from artesian wells
not only water but power and heat as well.
Machinery is already driven by the pressure, in
France, and experience shows that the beat
may be increased by adding to the depth of tbe
well. At Grenelle, a well 1,80 i feet deep, and
yielding daily 500,030 gallons, has a pressure ol
sixty pounds to the square inch, and the water
Is so hot that it is employed for heating hos
pitals in the vicinity. Tue deepest well in ths
world is being sunk at Perth, Hungary, to sup
ply hot water lor public baths. It now yields
daily 175,000 gallons heated to 158 degrees, and
the boring is to be continued until the tempera
ture is railed to 176 degrees.
The Solomon Trick Didn’t Succeed.
—Judge Dicken, of Henry county, Giorgis, was
called to preside at a trial tbe ether day lor the
possession of a negro baby. There was so much
hard swearing on each side th? t the Judge was
at a loss to know where the truth lay, and be
thinking himself of Solomon in a like predica
ment, he grabbed the baby, and, as a local
paper s.ys, “reached down into his girdle
and pulled oat his bowie knife, and proposed to
do the square thing by the cl iuaants by slicing
tbe ba’ yin two. Both claim uata, thinking the
Judge had a right to divide the baby, rushed
frantically up to him, saying: ‘ Boss, don’t kill
him. You may have him.’”
The Unselfish President.—At a din
ner in Albany the other day, Hon. Andrew S.
1 raper told this story ot Lincoln: “ immedi
ately after the battle of Gettysburg Lincoln sat
down and wrote a peremptory order to Meado
to intercept Lee in bis retreat, give him battle,
and by this bold stroke crush Ute rebel army
and end the rebellion. The order was accom
panied by a friendly note, in which the great
patriot said to Meade: * The order I inclose is
not one ot record. If you succeed you need
not publish tbe order. It yon mil, publish it.
Then if you succeed, you will have all the credit
of the movement. If not, I’ll take the respon
sibility !’ ”
Insecurity of Popularity.—Prince
Bismarck said, in his interview w lh M. de Les
seps, as an illustration or the fickleness ot pop
ular favor: “ I was speaking to you -nst now of
my This is almost’as awkward ae
antipat/*.' This pavement of Berlin, whioh
formerly i could not tread without the people I
met spitting as I passed to show their disgust
lor me, is now so crowded with friends when 1
set my loot out ot doors that I am reduced to
showing myself as little as possible. The day
may come when there will again be spitting on
my path.”
Perfumeries. —A word nhout the ma
terials used in perfumery. The animal series
comprises musk, civet and ambergris, Musk
is a secretion of a deer; civet is the secretion of
a cat; ambergris is the diseased portion of a
whalo. Musk varies in price from $6 to $12.50*;
civet, from $5 to $7.50; ambergrs, from $2.50 to
$12.50 an ounce. The floral series includes the
jasmine, rose, orange, tuberose, cassia, violet,
jonquil and narcissus. Tbe herbal series in
cludes all aromatic plants, such as lavender,
spike, peppermint, rosemary, thyme, marjo
ram, geranium, patchouli and Wintergreen.
They Were There.—A Nevada news
paper says that a citizen recently saw two Pluto
bucks dig a bole in a snow bank, get into it, and
wrap themselves in a single blanket, prepara
tory to a night’s rest. In the morning he saw
no signs of the Indians, but a mound of snow
marked the spot where they went to bed. He
was sure that they had frozen during the cold
night, and prepared to dig out the bodies, but
the first thrust of the-shovel brought the bucks
to their feet, with grunts ot disgust. Instead ot
being Irozen, they were moist with perspiration.
Fractured a Bride’s Skull.—A party
of young folks in pleasant Valley, Va., went to
the house of a newly-married pair to “bell
them,” as the custom is there. Awakened by
the jingling of many bells, the bride and groom
arose and entered into the fun heartily. To
add to the noise, the bride and another young
woman ran out and began to pull violently on
the rope of the farm-l>oll hanging in a frame
back of the house. They jerked so hard that
the bell slipped from its place and fell, striking
the bride on the head and fracturing her skull.
A Love Tragedy.—The story of the
late Philip Bourke Marston’s love tragedy is
recalled. Blind from boyhood, when he war
st: 11 a young man be became engaged to a beau
tiful young lady, and the time ot their wedding
was near at hand. They were together in the
parlor one day. Suddenly he noticed that she
no longer spoke to him. * He called her, but
there was no reply, lie groped about the room
in search of her. found her on the sofa, and put
bis hand upon her face, only to find that she
was dead.
Insect Endurance of Cold.—lt is an
error to suppose that severe Winters are de
structive to insect life, according to Mr, Mc-
Lachlan, an English entomologist. Larvtn may
be frozen until as brittle as rotten stick, in
which condition they can scarcely bo said to
Jive, but on the return of warm weather they
revive, quite uninjured by th«ir freezing. It is
a noteworthy fact that butterflies and humble
bees have been found almost as close to the
North Pole as man has ever approached.
An Excellent L b l Law.—The St.
Paul Pioneer-Prtss has induced the Minnesota
Legislature to pass a new 1 bel law. It pro
vides that no person can bring suit against a
publication without three days’notice, during
which time a retraction must be received in
evidence when the suit is tried. Tbe law also
provides that the plaintiff can only recover
such damages as he proves he has actually
suffered.
Want of Sleep
Is sending thousands annually to the
insane asylum ; and the doctors say this
trouble is alarmingly on the increase.
The usual remedies, while they may
give temporary relict, are likely to do
more harm than good. What is needed
is an Alterative and Blood-purifier.
Ayer’s Sax’saparilla is incomparably
the best. It corrects those disturbances
in the circulation which cause sleepless
ness, gives increased vitality, and re
stores the nervous system to a healthful
condition,
Rev. T. ®. A. Coti, agent of the Mass.
Home Missionary Society, writes that
his stomach was out of order, his sleep
very often disturbed, and some im
purity of the blood manifest; but that
a perfect cure was obtained by the use
of Ayer’s Sarsaparilla.
Frederick W. Pratt, 421 Washington
street, Boston, writes: “My daughter
■was prostrated with n.rvous debility.
Ayer’s Sarsaparilla restored her to
health.”
William F. Bowker, Erie, Pa., was
cured of nervousness and sleeplessness
by taking Ayer’s Sarsaparilla for about
two months, during which time his
•weight increased over twenty pounds.
Ayer’s SarsapariHa,
PREPARED BY
Dr. J. C. Ayer & Co., Lowell, Mass.
So Wby all Bragglata. Price JI; six bottlss,