Newspaper Page Text
A Reminiscence of the War. Grand Army Gazette. I enlisted in the year 1862, in a small western town,underthelamented Gilbert Hathaway, who later in the war, while we served in the famous "Provisional Brigade," sealed his de votion to the Union and the old flag with his life's blood. While tyie subse quent years brought us new and meri torious commanders, and the years themselves were so pregnant with events, with battles lost and won, with capture and prison life upon Belle Isle, his memory was ever held sacred by the men, who served under him, for they knew and loved him as a brave Christian soldier. It was in the yard surrounding the countycourt house, where the muster in} officer had his quarters, and where men were eagerly ^enlisting to serve their country. Crowds of people were thronging that day to listen to the speaking from the steps of the build ing. I had concluded the oath my ad vanced years entitled me to take, and as I stepped back my place was tilled by a .slight, boyish form with smooth face that did not seem nearly so good a passport to the oath without ques tion. I was struck by the clear-cut features, and the honest, vigorous ex pression of the boy's eyes eyes that were of a calm, determined blue. He was expostulated with by the officers, and told that he was too young, to stand back, fcc. The boy insisted that notwithstanding his youth there was no tone to dispute his right to serveliis country in her hour of need. After some questioning and ascer taining that the boy was an orphan, with no one to interpose objections, he was duly sworn in as "Richard Moss," and assigned to Co. "II." I walked beside him to the rendez vous, and laying mv hand upon his shoulder said to him, "Richard, weave destined to be comrades-in-arms, and I trust you fully understand the step you have taken." lie expressed grat itude that we were to be comrades, said he only understood that his coun try needed his services, and that he was willing to accord them, and that there never could be a moment's re gret for the course he had taken. Although the disparity in our ages would imply that we were illy-mated, we thus became mess-mates, and an affection sprang up between us that only ended with the going out of that young, devoted life upon the field of carnage. We were ordered "front," ar.d in the Buel-Bragg campaign we were duly ini tiated into the details of a soldier's life, and into the terrible sequence of an internecine war. Around the bivouac, and upon lone ly watches I learned the history of my boy's early life. He was born in Ten nessee, and at 12 years old his parents had died and wei-e buried near Nash ville, leaving only himself and an old er brother, who still lived, at the be ginning of the war in east Tennessee. At the death of his parents he had been confided to the cave of a maiden aunt who lived in New Hampshire,and with her he had lived and been educa ted up to her death, which occurred simultaneously with the breaking out of the war. Our campaign lay in the once beauti ful Tennessee Valley, so familiar with his early life, before the devastating hand of war, that subsequently laid waste this fair land, before the dread ful civil strife with its hot bveath swept over it like the blighting simoon, leaving this beautiful valley a dreary wilderness with great blackened chim neys standing out here and there against the war bronzed sky, like grim sentinels guarding the ashes of once happy homes. The army had camped for the night, and as we stood in the fast receding sunlight, and looked out over the val ley, athwart which the shadows were deepening, he pointed away to where two large chimneys were visible against the twilight sky, and while the shad ows that had crept up over the valley seemed to have entered his soul, he said, "That was once our home," and the look of unutterable anguish that came over the sweet, blue eyes, ean not forget. I said, "Come away, Richard, you see the hour of regret you once so confidently thought should never come, is now here." "No, no," he said, "Ido not mean that, you wrong me, but, oh, it is so desolate, so desolate." I said 110 more, but as we still sat therein the deeper .and darker shadows of night, I remembered that "a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remem bering happier things," and as I watched the stars, one by one, assume their sphere allotted them in space, I found myself questioning the wisdom, mercy and omnipotence of the God who had spoken them into being, and spec ulating as to whether in caring for all these worlds he had not forgotten ours, and I found it in my heart, too, to curse the passion and prejudices of bad and ambitious men, who through sectional hate and damnable heresies had brought about the disintegration of our happy country, and sorrow and desolation to thousands of happy homes. The campaign, after some months of weary marching and some fighting, cul minated at last in the battle of "Stone River," or Murfreesboro, a battle both lost and won upon that memorable last day of the year, a battle that left lis victors, so far as the objective point attained could make it, but at a sac rifice that would scarcely entitle us to the name of victory. With the going out of the old year, amidst the smoke and fire of battle, came sorrow and bitter desolation to many hearth stones, to many households, whose loved ones had laid down their lives in defense of the old flag. Company numbered more dead than living that night. Less than a score of us gathered around our little fire with sad hearts and subdued voices, for out upon the field in our front lay our comrades who had an swered to their last roll-call upon earth, and while the pitiless rain fell tirelessly upon the upturned face ot the tenantless clay, their souls had gone to await the final roll-call before the great white throne in Heaven. Our regiment was assigned here to the Independent Provisional Brigade, and early in the spring of that year we left the army still quartered at Murfree boro, and started upon a raid through the interior of Alabama and Georgia to the rear of the rebel army. We were captured near Rome, Ga., upon the 3d of May, by Brigadier Gen eral Forrest's cavalry, and were soon upon our way to Richmond and Belle Isle. We were taken by way of East lennessee, and as we approached Strawberry Plains, Richard told me he had reason to believe he might heav something of his brother, as he lived in that vicinity before the breaking out of the war. It was a beautiful morning, and we stood in the door of the box car as the train stopped at a small station called Mossyside. Richard clutched my arm convulsively, and I can never t'otfget the look of joy, mingled with sorrow, as he cried in a broken voice, "My brother! Oh! my brother!" In the vast crowd gathered there to see the Yankee prisoners there was a rebel major of commanding presence, that I knew intuitively must be Rich ard's brother. Calling a small boy and pointing the major out I asked to have him come to the car. As he came toward the car, uncon scious of whom he was to meet, I could not but admire his handsome and dashing appearance. lie (fame close up without recognizing Richard, who, pale as death, seemed unable to speak, but reaching forth his hand seemed the signal of recognition, and the ma jor stopped short as though a bullet had entered his heart. "No," lie said, "you are 110 longer a brother of mine. I do not know you." Poor Richard could not speak for tears and choking sobs. "Major," I said, "you will break the boys heart by your cruelty. It would be the part of humanity, at least, to take his hand." "What Yankee hireling are you who presume to dictate to me? I tell you. No! I would not pollute myself by the touch of a hand, though it be a brother's that brings devastation and death to a. land where our dead father and mother lie buried." What more he said was lost amid the noise of the moving train. I sought our corner of the car and tried to soothe the poor boy by tell ing him it would all be right, our war would soon be over, and then all differences could be lighted. But my task was 110 easy one, and it was late at night before lio fell asleep in my arms. Our prison life, fortunately, was of short duration. We were exchanged that same summer, and gladly bid adieu to Belle Isle and its horrors. We were sent to the front that same fall, and in the winter of 1864 found the remnant of our regiment collected in Nashville, where Gen. Thomas was organizing an army to oppose Hood's advancing forces. The battle ofNashvilleandthegrand q.nd glorious victory "Pap" Thomas achieved over Hood is a matter of his tory. The brigade to which we had been assigned fought upon the left the first day, and night found 11s in terri bly decimated ranks. I had been dis abled in the afternoon and taken from the field, but my wounds proved to be of 110 serious nature, and I rejoined the regiment just at dark and learned with grief that Richard, who had fought like a hero all day, was missing. The following day witnessed the ut ter rout and defeat of the rebel army, and our next duty was to care for our suffering wounded and the dead. It was up over the hill, 011 the site of the old cemetery, where the dead of both armies lay in the thicket, that we found ioor Richard, his bridle-arm shot off at the shoulder. He lay be side a horse with a rebel soldier be neath, or partly under it, and not un til we raised him up did we notice that their hands were clasped and stiffened in death, and not until then did I recognize in the pallid features of the dead rebel the brother of Richard. Nearly twenty years have passed since then, and the then grizzled hair has grown whiter than snow, but that hour comes back to me to-night with a reality that unmans me. There are bright pictures upon my walls, of landscape, history and flowers, but there is a picture ever present with me upon the walls of memory. The dead boy—my boy, for I loved him as my own—and his rebel brother, with the dead horse and bro ken ammunition wagon as a back ground, upon the field of death and carnage. We buried them in one grave where they fell and upon the little slab we put at the grave is inscribed, "George and Richard Moss, united in death, 1864." The Wrong: Mrs. Jones. "These little misadventures make up the spice of life," said a North Side clergyman. "One of themost popular preachers in a certain suburb of Chi cago has developed great enthusiasm in the matter of raising chickens. His weakness for chickens is well under stood in the parish, and in making his rounds the other day Mrs. Jones upon whom he called, drew him out on the subject of his big flock of young chick ens. When he had enlarged upon them as only a chicken fancier can, Mrs. .Tones informed him that she had saved up nearly half a barrel of stale bread, which she asked him to send for as feed for the chickens. The pas tor said he would be glad to do so, as it was just what his little peepers delighted in. "He proceeded with his calls, and among others called upon a second family by the name of Jones, the most aristocratic of all his parishioners. His visit was a pleasant one, and he was full of it when he returned home. Reverting in his own mind to the lady who had promised to make a donation of bread, he directed his son to take a bushel basket and go over to Mrs. Jones, and get the bread she had promised for the chickens. The boy moved promptly, but in the abscnce of specifications struck the wrong Jones family. He preferred his re quest to the aristocratic neighbor in stead of to the one who had promised the bread. The lady, to whom the question of chickens had not been mentioned, and who had parted from her pastor only an hour before, was astonished at the demand and size of the basket. The boy insisted that his father sent him for bread for the chickens, and the lady hunted her cupboard and pantry over and gathered every crust, not more than a handful in all, and sent the boy 011 his way, she thinking the good pastor had played a practical joke upon her. Upon the return of the boy with the nearly empty basket explanations made it clear to the clergyman that a very awkward mis take had been made, and he hurried his daughter off to set matters right, but the story got out, and when 011 next Sabbath the pastor happened to mention the matter of bread in his sermon, there was a smile almost aud ible all over the church.—Chicago Inter-Ocean. SAVED BY A SECOND. How One of Lincoln's Reprieves Wu De layed by Break In the Wires. From tlio Pittsburg Dispatch. "The most impressive sight I ever saw, I think, was at Harper's Ferry in '65," said Detective C. W. McElroy recently. The detective is a member of Perkins' Agency, and was at one time Sheriff of Oswego County, N. Y. The conversation was brought about by a remark upon the impressiveness of the funeral services over Gen. Grant. "The sight of a man going to his own funeral, with the band playing a dead march, is calculated to impress one," he continued. "That is the case, you know, with a man condemned to death by court-martial. The case of which I spoke happened in January, 1865, and the wonderful escape of the con demned parties is something I shall never forget. Two Irishmen, John Shea and Michael Donne, had been sentenced to be shot for desertion. There was considerable feeling in favor of the men. It was in the time of big bounties, and the two young men had enlisted for something like $1,000 a piece. In a few days they were both missing, and were not caught for three or four weeks. They were drunk, and their money was about gone. The truth of the matter was that it was 110 case of willful desertion. The men had got 011 a drunk, and had never sobered up enough to realize their position. They were badly frightened, and were attended two priests. I can remember the place well. They were inarched up 011 a little hill 011 a level plateau, and the soldiers thrown into three sides of a hollow square. The two men, accompanied by tiieir priests, and preceded by the band playing the dead march, were marched around the inside of this square and stopped nearly in the center, by the side of their open cotlins. The priests were in earnest conversation with them, and the minutes rolled by till they grew into an hour. Twelveo'clock came, and Gen. Stevenson gave orders for the priests to leave the men. Very reluctantly they did so, prolonging their leave-taking upon one pretext and another as long as they could. Everything was at last made ready, and it was only a matter of seconds between the men and eternity, when the General's orderly rode up, swing ing his luit and yelling at the top of his voice. It was a reprive from Lincoln. "It seems that the priests had tele graphed the President the night before, asking for a reprieve, and statingtliat there were mitigating circumstances. Lincoln, who was always looking for an excuse to save a man's life, repriev ed them. Gen. Stevenson's headquar ters were nearly a mile from where we were, and the telegraph office was at his headquarters. He had left a mounted orderly there with instruc tion to push through any dispatch that come. Nothing came until a few minutes before 12 and the orderly dashed away. He had to go up a steep hill, nearly half a mile long. When he reached the top his horse was badly winded, and could hardly go. lie meta citizen on a good horse, and without any ceremony pulled the gen tleman down and mounted the fresh animal. Half a minute's delay would have been the last of Messrs. Doane and Shea. "A strange part of the story is yet to come. Some three years afterward I met an old telegraph operator in Os wego. He was in Washington in the winter ol '04 and '65. We got to talk ing over war matters, and I found that he remembered the case I told you about. He was in charge of the wire leading to Harper's Ferry. He had heard of the two men to be executed there, through the operator. They had discussed the matter over the wires. Consequently he remembered the case well. Upon the morning of the execution, at 10 o'clock, the dis patch reprieving the men was handed him to send out. He turned to his desk, and what was his horror to find that he couldn't work the wire. A storm was in progress or something else was the matter. At any rate the wire would not work. There was no other way of reaching Harper's Ferry. The dispatch he didn't get off until just before 12, but, as it happened, in good time but he told me it was an experience he would never forget. Al though it was a pretty close snave for the two Irishmen, and I don't believe they ever forgot the accident either." Neither a Fright Nor a Beauty. From the San Francisco (Cal.) Examiner. Mrs. Belva Lockwood is neither flat tered nor disparaged by the numerous wood-cut representations of her that appeared during the late campaign. There is really no resemblance between the person and the picture. She is what might be called a handsome woman, but hers is thedeclining beauty of uncertain age. She might be forty, or she might be fifty. Her features are of the clear-cut Grecian, refined type equiline nose, straight forehead, overhanging a pair of sharp, penetrat ing eyes, a glance into which at once convinces one that the lady is endowed with more than ordinary brain power. Mantled over her forehead is a roll of handsome wavy, gray hair that adds much to the natural beauty of her face She was attired in a plain and modest traveling dress of black silk. There is nothing in her outward ap pearance or expression that would lead a casual observer to guess that she belonged to that much-ridiculed class of women denominated "strong minded.'' In conversatian, however, she reveals a phenomenal force of char acter, expressing herself in concise, lawyer-like language, and with a calm that-settles-it air which amply proves that she is "a woman with a mind of her own." But yet withal,she is an earth-earthy woman. The reporter's first glance at her features recently discovered the tell-tale traces of pow der. Good Wasliius Fluid* To make a good washing fluid, take 1-3 oz. gum camphor dissolved in 1-2 pint of alcohol also 1-3 lb. borax and 1-2 lb. of sal soda dissolved in one gallon of hot rain water, and the fluid is ready after stirring all the ingredi ents together add 1 gal. cold rain water before adding the gum camphor and alcohol. In using, add about 4 table spoonfuls to a pint of soft soap, apply to the parts of clothing most soiled, and soak in warm water half an hour then proceed with your washing as usual, not boiling over five minutes. I have used this for a year, and know it is good and does not rot theclothes they wash with half the labor and come out white.—Gerniantown Telegraph. FAEM AND HOUSEHOLD. Agricultural Items. Complaints having been received at the Department of Agriculture that the sorghum seed distributed this year failed to grow, samples of it were tested in the gardens of the department, and it was found that only about 10 per cent, of it would sprout. A. H. Rose, Oakland, California, farmer, has assigned. Liabilities $800, 000, assets nominal. As he lives in Oakland, a city, he is no doubt a "gentleman farmer." The Richest man in Portland, or all Oregon, isoneLadd, a banker, &c., who plays at farming has a line farm, and a splendid mansion of a barn, in view of the city. He went into Jerseys, and after fixing up, lie estimates that his first pound of but ter cost him $1,800. But the par alytic said grimly: "It was good butter, though."—Burrell. Fifty representatives from an many barb wire manufactories, being three fourths of all such institutions in the United States, held a secret meeting in Chicago, at which they virtually de cided to form a pool and advance prices 15 per cent. The different mem bers contended that the jresent sell ing price, $3.36 per 100 pounds, was 10 cents below the actual cost of pro duction. They asserted also that the combination between the Vanderbilt and Pennsylvania Central systems of railroads would result in raising freight rates. With moderate care and good usuage a horse's life may be prolonged to 25, 35 or 40 years. An English gentle" man had three horses, which severally died in his possession at the aire of 35, 37 and 30 years. The oldest was 111 a carriage the very day he died, strong and vigorous, but was carried off by a spasmodic colic to which he was subject. A horse in use at a riding school in Woolwich lived to be 40 years old, and a barge horse of the Mersey and Irwell Navigation Com pany is declared to have been in his sixty-second year when he died. Although salt is not generally a fer tilizer, it produces similiar effects by rendering soluble latent fertility in the soil. Its use to promote the growth of crops is increasing, and for a time on tolerably rich soil may take the place ot real manures when the price of crops is too low to allow large pur chases of the latter. It is a mistake to suppose that refuse salt, consisting of coarse, hard lumps mixed with dirt and gypsum, is cheaper than fine salt. The opening of new salt wells lias made salt very cheap, and fine salt at a dol lar or little more per barrel is enough better for the land to give it the prefer ence. Fifty years ago it took the price of the best fatted steer to buy eighty yards of calico now thefarmer with the price of sucha steer can get 1,800 yards of calico. Then it took three steers to buy two plows now with one steer he can buy five plows. Then with one steer he could get two and one-half kegs of nails now he can sell the same kind of a steer and with its price he can buy thirty or forty kegs of nails. Farmers should be shown the advan tages that a diversified industry gives them in affording them a ready and good market. It is not here a question as to how this affects daily wages, but how it affects the price of hogs and beef cattle. Fifty years ago nearly all the people of this country were farm ers, all trying to sell the same thing, with no purchasers. Now a diversity of employment gives a good market for the product of the labor of all.—G. H. Orton. All farm operations are to be judged and practiced according to circum stances. In regard to the culture of corn flat cultivation or hilling may do well on one kind of land and not upon another. Flat cultivation is suitable for light and dry soils, where ridging or hilling would be injurious as raising the roots above the surface where the soil would be too dry. On the other hand, on heavy wet land flat culture would not do so well, because it would keep the roots too wet and cold, and ridging and hilling is required for the purpose of drainage, and keeping the roots out of the water in a wet season. Again, heavy land requires deep work ing between the rows to open the soil and prevent it from dryingout, as well as to enable the roots to penetrate, while light soil is always porous enough for this. In all farm work it is neces sary to understand the principles at the bottom of it, and to apply these principles according to the circum stances. An Enterprising Lady. During a trip through California, this Summer, we stopped at a neat farm-house, where there was every comfort and luxury of a home. Among the members of the family was a daughter 18 or 19 years old. In the morning we were invited to see the work in which the young lady was engaged. We found a complete and successful fowl-raising establishment. A number of small inelosmes with a capacity of 40 fowls each, had been made. There was a little house in the center of each inclosure. The whole cost of the inclosures and houses could not have been more than $200. With this investment she was raising 1,000 chickens, and a perfect swarm of ducks and turkeys, all in perfect health. A breeder of faiicy fowls had sent out 200 of his choice chicks to be reared, for which this young lady is to receive $1.50 apiece, or $300. Without any unforeseen jiocident this little estab lishment will net its brave owner from $750 to $1,000 this season. This is better than competing with a China man in a hot kitchen over burning ba con and cabbage. It is better than to struggle with the needle for a fashiona ble living in a field already overfull, and it is a thousand tunes better than idleness in shabby gentility. What this energeticyounglady is doing, thou sands of others can (lo. A beginning can be made in a small way, and addi tions can be made to buildings and in closures as the profits will pay for them. Here is a pleasant and profita ble business for hundreds of idle peo ple who are wishing for something to do. A little energy, enterprise, and courage is theprincip.il capital required for a start. With industry success will result.— Marysville (Cal.) Appeal. The Future of Grazing. Upon this question Mr. Theodore McMinn, in an elaborate statement prepared for the Treasury Department in regard to*the range and ranch cattle business of the United States, gives valuable information. The following summary will contain matter for thought not only to those engaged in range interests but also in relation to future profits by every breeder and feeder in the west as showing that the future of grazing is full of problems and possibilities: In the United States the annual con sumption of meat is about 120 pounds per capita 111 England, 105 pounds in France, 74 pounds and in Ger many, 09 pounds per capita. In 1804 the beeves imported into England sold for$05each in 1883 the price had gone up to $95 each. In Prussia, the increase since 1873 was a fraction over 1 jjer cent., while the increase in the population was over 8 per cent. Ten years ago stock cattle in Texas cost $4 per head, now they cost from $15 to $18 per head. The grazing area is becoming circum scribed the people, the meat con sumers, are rapidly increasing in num bers. Populous countries do not raise enough meat for their own consump tion. State and National legislation in this country favors the smallholder, and thus a population ultimately for which it will become impossible for the lands divided and subdivided into small holdi.igs to furnish an adequate meat supply. Mexico in course of time seems likely to become the breeding ground in place of Texas. The old Spanish land grants which have come down for hundreds of years unim paired offer unbroken tracks in large areas suitable for breeding and feed ing, and already American capitalists are inspecting and buying the best grounds. If that country becomes anew Texas the trail and transportation will be come even more important problems than now, and quarantine, as now, an incident. In any event meat must gradually advance, whether rapidly or not de pends upon the wisdom of the legisla tion. Notes For the Fuir Sex. The proposed university for women at Baltimore, under the aupiccs of the Methodist Episcopal Church, will doubtless be established, as $135,000 of the $200,000 requisite, is already subscribed. The Indiana State Board of Agricul ture has increased the amount of premiums for the woman's department from $900, as offered last year, to $1,000. The increase is for the pur pose ol securing exhibits representing the business interests of women. By vote of the State and Delegate Board of Agriculture, the entire management of the upper floor of the exposition building has been tendered to the Woman's State Fair Association. This is certainly a high tribute to the judgment and executive ability of women. Are there not women who fill our vase with wine and roses to the brim, so that the wine runs over and fills the house with perfume who inspire us with courtesy who unloose our tongues and we speak who anoint our eyes and we see? We say things we never thought to have said for once, our walls of habitual reserve vanished, and left us at large we were children playing with children in a wide field of flowers. Steep 11s, we cried, in these in fluences, for days, for weeks, and we shall be sunny poets, and will write out in many-colored words the romance that you are—Emerson. It is becoming a serious question all over the world what occupation to put the young women at who, for any cause, fail to enter the marriage state. To our notion, there is no calling so admirably adapted to the feminine genius as that of dairying—perhaps not in its broadest sense, as including farming and stock-raising, but certain ly in the way of making cheese and but ter. If we had a bright young girl left to our care with the understanding that we were to find an occupation for her, and she had 110 personal objection to the occupation, we would certainly advise her to make a first-class cheese or butter-maker of herself—not that she need do the work with her own hands, for a knowledge of how to teach others is far more valuable than the single work of any individual can be.— Canadian Fanner. How to Manage Children. Anna Howard in Household. Esther, in the May Household, asks how she shall manage restless child ren, saying she finds it more difficult to govern three of her own than she formerly found it to govern thirty in a school room. One great secret in managing young children is, keep them busy, and so happy. The difficulty is 111 finding for them a constant succession of in nocent and healthful employments. To be always saying "don't" to a young child is enough to ruin its tem per. Repression long continued is in jurious to a grown person, much more to a child. Education (educo) is a drawing out —developing of all the good that is in one. not the dwarfing, cramping, fet tering system that we often see, and which produces such iniserableresults. In taking a walk the other day, my attention was attracted by hearing peevish, restless cries from two young children who were playing in a door yard not far from me. A little girl about five years old was pushing a ihild younger in a carriage. Every time she gave the carriage a push and rolled it a step or two her mother or nurse pulled her hand off from the carriage rather rudely, saying "I tell you to let. the carriage alone." And "then followed her cry, and in a min ute the child's hand was on the car riage again trying to push it. This was repeated two or three times, and then the children were carried scream ing into the house, with some sharp words on the part of tlieattendant 011 learning to mind. Now I do not approve of disobedi ence, but in this case my sympathies were with the children. There was no object of interest before them but the carriage, and to an active, energetic child the temptation was very grea,t, and should have been avoided by presenting to the chil dren other objects interest, (if it was decided that the carriage must not be touched.) If we pray, "lead 11s not into temptation,"' what must, be thought of those who using this prayer, deliberately place temptation in oth ers' way, and especially in the way of a young child for whose moral conduct we are to a great decree responsible. Walking 011 a few steps. I saw, upon the other side of the street, sitting upon the front door steps, four or five young children, looking the very pic ture of health and happiness. Two of them were engaged in blowing soap bubbles, and the others were variously occupied with what to them seemed extremely interesting ex ^/eriments, and all were as busy and nappy as possible. I could not help being struck with the contrast. That mother, I thought to myself, has found a secret worth know ing. The Salvation Army in England. Rev. Dr. Theodore Culer is venting a little of his nervous activity in an English tour and, by way of relax ation, preaching for Newman Hall and Spurgeon in London. Healso attended a recent meeting of the Salvation Army and thus records his impressions in a letter to theNew York Evangelist: Having a great desire to see Gen. Booth —the Napoleon of the slums—and his gifted wife, I gladly accepted a ticket, and was kindly shown to a seat on the platform close to the president's chair. The main body of the hall was packed with a most respectable class of people the large platform (rising nearly to the ceiling) was packed with the leading officers, members, and "Hallelujah lassies" of the Salvation Army. Many of these latter were not coarse girls from the street, but bright, intelligent looking young ladies. One of them who sat talking to a member of Par liament had one of the handsomest faces I have ever seen in England. Close behind niesat the "Converted Burglar" in a good suit of clothes, and he joined in the singing with great unc tion. It was evident that I was seeing the Salvation Army at its very best. Presently, amid a great round of applause, Gen. Booth and his wife mounted the platform. The general is apparently a man of 00, tall and slender, and looks more like a Ken tuckian than a Britisher his profile resembles Stonewall Jackson's. Mrs. Booth, who is the brain power of this wonderful movement, has a fine in tellectual couutenance with a superb eye. Her speech was keen, logical, and often truly eloquent, and would have done credit to a member of Parliament. The meeting opened with singing one of the Salvationist hymns, to the ac companiment of a stupendous brass band of nearlv 100 pieces. The audi ence joined in the chorus with a tre mendous effect. It reminded me ofone of our earlier "Warmeetings and the rousing roar of the hymns, with brass instruments and drums,surpassed any thing I ever heard at Mr. Moody's mass-meetings. Gen. Booth gave a run ning exposition of the hymn between the verses he has ready tact and aline control of an audience. He called on a young uninformed soldier of his "Army" to pray, and he offered a prayer of remarkable fervor and origi nality, addressing the Almighty as "You" and not as "Thou," but with no seeming irreverence. Then came a solo hymn by a "Hallelujah lassie," with an immense volume of vocal and instrumental chorus. The music was enough to raise the roof. A Black Inventor. A recent issue of the Montgomery (Va.) Messenger contains the following: Minnis Haden, a worthy colored blacksmith of this place, has lately in vented one of the most ingenious and valuable devices we have ever seen. Being a poor man and unable to em ploy a hand as striker, he cast about how he might do by machinery what heretofore could be done only by the hand of man. The result ofhiscogita tions is a piece of very simple machin ery by which the striking hammer is easily and effectively worked by his foot, while he has both hands free to hold his iron and use the small ham mer. To a listener the blows come as naturally and as rapidly as if there were two men handling the hammers in the old-fashioned way, but there is a difference. The machine, by an easy motion of the foot on the treadle, strikes a harder blow than any man can strike, and can be made at will to strike as light a blow as maybe needed. Butthe use oftliis simple and cheap de vice in the blacksmith's shop is not half. It can be just as easily used^and will find a large field of usefulness, in driving a drill for blasting rock. In its present form, without any change, one man can drive a drill perpendicu larly as easily as three men now do the same work. By a very simple and easy plan hammers can be provided and attached, which will make it just as easy to drive a hole horizontally or at any required angle, and the whole work can be done by one man. The machine is portable and need not be very heavy. Mr. D. W. Frizzell has become apart owner of this invention, A caveat has been secured, and Mr. Frizzell is expecting to receive apatent as soon as the papers are made out. The Heaviest Locomotive in Den ver. From the Tribune-Republican. Probably the heaviest engine ever run through this city (ninety tons) laid over yesterday in the Denver and Rio Grande lower yards, waiting for last night's 9:55 train to take her to Santa Fe. where she is to run on the 200-feet-to-the-mile, 24-mile-longgrade between Trinidad, in Colorado, and Raton, in New Mexico. There is a 2,800-feet- tunnel on this line, and on this grade are run the heaviest locomo tives in the country. Two sixty-ton engines arc required to take a passen ger train of six coaches up the big grade, one before and the other be hind, because if the engines were dou bled up should a coupling break, the cars might get beyond control and be dashed to pieces down the grade. It requires two hours and forty minutes for the ascent but descending, how they do fly sometimes! making flying switches that would sink the hearts of the switch-house men at theNew York Grand Central Depot clear into their boots. No. 833 of the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad, the locomotive in question, came from Laramie City, where she has been haulingfreight over the heavy grade between Laramie and Green River during the last sixty days to demonstrate the virtues of the Wootten patent lire box, which is specially arranged for burning waste coal. Engineer E. J. Ranch says the trial is so"satisfactory that the Union Pacific road will adopt thedevice, and the Santa Fe road will try this engine with the same end in view. The en gine is rented out to roads wishing to try her at $50 per day and ex penses. hut the patent is owned by the Wootten Railroad Switch Company. She came in from Cheyenne Tuesday with a train, but the Denver and Rio Grande folks preferred to disconnect and tow her over their line on which she left last night. Slmr-Sln* Prison Punishment. Letter to Ian Francisco Argonaut. The party was put in the hands of head keeper and sent the rounds. The keeper was an Irishman, with a clean-shaven and crafty-looking face. He had an observant eye, and he did not smile while he was showing the party around, until he came to a room which was fitted up with dark cells. A real professional dark cell is about the blackest thing on the face of the earth—when you are in it and the door is closed. The party played a pleas ant and agreeable little trick on the oldest member. He said he had heard a great deal about the exaggerated notions men had of time spent in a dark room, and he asked the keeper if he would not lock him in there for five minutes by the watch, and let him have the experience so he was locked up in a little whitewashed cell, in which lie could scarcely turn around. Not a particle of light was admitted, and a man might yell himself hoarse forever without being heard outside. Having locked him in securely, his kind friends went cheerfully off and investigated the iron-foundry, shoe-shops, saw mills, and docks. Nearly an hour elapsed, and then they returned and released him. "It seemed a pretty long five min utes, didn't it, colonel?" asked the youngest man, flippantly. "N-no," said the colonel, who hada strained, round-shouldered, hollow eyed, nervous, melancholy, and unnat ural air "110, I shouldn't think I was there more than five minutes. You see it's a great thing to have a strong hold on your imagination and not let it run away with you, Still," wearily, "I must say that that three-legged stool was rather uncomfortable." At this moment the attention of everybody was attracted by the keep er, who was actually smiling. It was the first time his features had relaxed during the day, and the crowd gath ered around him. "I'm going to show you a little in-. vention of my own," he said, pleas antly, "which has been adopted all over the country. I suppose you know that the criminals often get ugly. The place that harbors more than fifteen hundred of New York's worst scum must necessarily have a number of hard characters to deal with. Men here get rebellious, ill-tempered, and unmanageable pretty often. Informer years they used the lash, the paddle, the douche, and often calmed men by putting them into the black-rooms. The fiercest spirits are quelled by im prisonment in a dungeon. The wild est case we ever had turned to a lamb after twenty-five days' imprisonment, without a gleam of light, in a black cell. All that is settled now, however, by my little invention. Wedon'thave to use the black-cells, or anything else, and the men are so thoroughly scared by what I call my 'weighing machine' that they 110 longer fight and rebel." He then showed it to us. If a convict becomes desperate at ill treatment, over-work, or a realization of the awful duration of a twenty-years' sentence,he is dragged into thekeeper's room and a pair of iron handcuffs are screwed tightly around his wrists. Then the chain which connects thetwohand cuffs is hooked to a pully, and the man's hands are drawn up until he is almost lifted from the floor. Here he hangs against the wall until his spirit is subdued. The wall was smeared with the stains of blood from the wrists of the poor wretches who had hung there. "It's a daisy," said the keeper, ra diantly "the toughest man in the whole jail has never been able to stand it more than three-quarters of a min ute. It cures rheumatism, blindness, and all the other ills that criminals are heir to." "It must be torture." "Well, rather, It stops the circula tion of the blood, you know." And he still smiled as he stood with his hands 011 thepully, whilethecrowd wandered away. It's a great thing to have clear idea of the humorous. Elopement Sensation. A Lowell, Mass., telegram to the New York Herald says: Lowell has the biggest sensation of the season on its own hands just at present. A cer tain young married lady, one of the belles of the city, and wife of one of the wealthiest and most prominent citizens, has eloped with a traveling agent. The circumstances are the talk of the town, but the names are oniy whispered. The lady was prom inent in society ard in charitable and religious work, and was an officer of a club formed exclusively of the ladies of thecity. The husband is a member of one of the Massachusetts yacht clubs, and with his wife, has attended :his season most of the cruisers in eastern waters. They have traveled together through Europe and extensively in this country. Recently, "it is said," that they have disagreed in a number of matters, and, although residing in the same house on the most fashion able street in the city, have spoken to each other only when in general socie ty and when such conversation be came necessary to prevent gossip. A few days ago the wife made a visit to Lexington, and there met her lover, and since then lias not been seen or heard of by her husband. It is said that he will make no great effort to learn her whereabouts or induce her to return. In 1874, Clarence A. Portley, who had lately graduated from West Point, married Miss Maggie Alexander, daugh ter of Dr. Alexander, a New York mill ionaire. When the wedding ceremony was over, Dr. Alexander handed his son-in-law an envelope containing $100,000 in government bonds. "Thank you," replied the gratified son-in-law and then he asked, "But as we are going away would it not be bet ter that you should keep the money till wereturn?'' "I'll do so, "answered the delighted father-in-law, and his half-choked words, "God bless you, my children," were lost among the clatter of the departing carriage and the val edictory shouts. Not long ago Mr. Alexander died without a will, and no mention was made of the $100,000, though his property was left to his daughter. A friendly suit has now been instituted to determine the ownership of the $100,000, the wife wanting her husband to have the money. E. B. Cox of Drifton, Pa., is the largest hard coal mine proprietor in the country.