OCR Interpretation

West Virginia Democrat. [volume] (Charles Town, W. Va.) 1885-1890, June 03, 1887, Image 1

Image and text provided by West Virginia University

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn85059778/1887-06-03/ed-1/seq-1/

What is OCR?

Thumbnail for

# The Column* of this paper ehow i*,>
Our subscription list for any county JM to ^e a new departure, and inquiry
is open to nspeetion For example B^ will prove it to be thft be*i ad^ejfti^
In Berkeley IB7.Grccnbrier84.Hamp W ing medium in West Virginia. W
-hire 3*'. Hardy 2 , Harrison . *. B I other publication is so widely distri
Wood 28. heeling 20, Wirt tO,—- B buted over the State and*read by the
r I'.'iur ies in proportion. Circu- B, very class most valuable to advertie
lation in this county equal to that of i.jy ist1 i "«».»» '+
f any other paper. - - ^ K
f Vol 111.. No. XIII. CHARLESTOWN. JEFFERSON COUNTY, W. VA., FRIDAY, JUNE 3. 1887._Price 3 Cents
No One Need
j Remain
A Dyspeptic.
4*I have been suffering tor over
two years with Dyspepsia, tor
the l ist year 1 could not take a
drink of cold water nor eat any
meat without vomiting it up.
Mv life was a misery. I hail
had recommended Simmons
liver Regulator, of which 1 am
now taking tin* second bottle,
and the fact is that words can
not express the relief I feel. My
appetite is very good, hm! I di
gest everything thoroughly. 1
sleep well now, and I used to be
very restless. 1 am tleshiug up
fast; good, strong food and
Simmons Liver Regulator have
N done it all. I write this in
hopes of benefiting some one
who has suffered as l did, and
would take oath to these state
ments, if desired.
K. S. Bai.loi , St/i'ticttsc, Xtfr.
Genuine has 7. in red on front ol
wrapper. Best guarantee tor the
; ’ ONLY liKXl'lXK . I
Has our /. Stump in red • >!» front of
j. H. ZHILIN »v <«►., Philadelphia, Pa.
: V
| sc-eni <k♦
- vV*.
a~?V5 ,
v -' * " ■*
\ ' f Cv.‘:
, \ . •* v
i «' *» ■*. c
^ , . .. **>•».»# n* yjv o
. Tv..
, r >,. . :t_ ., n. u-u
. •.. • . t t*.n*rue near
.: «.i,«uus.njf lo>a
. t ■ ; vi.m ; i • ■: ration.
• ■*. . vneuti. i; i;i. It
* i ctuten-*! in tbe
..if r ■ . •• : 'T.g the u 0 »t It.
, . .. :u . . . t . I;ltf had grown
, . ,■ ... ; » r' m . ' •• *<** entirely
r, , . .I a t I.-., ■!••>! t» i .« tii. ’i - * l!lF*e
i ., . j:, in on in* rttiitn of the Jta
Jt. * • il. L XltWLEBWHJKS.
r* , 0 >, Jauo \ IW*.
. i a-f n lllm 1 am I Skin Disease* tuallcO iroc.
a; i spacivic co , Drawer N Atlanta, Cx
». o' v*ls- N Y.
^ Ju n.3,1 iii
Merchant Tailoring.
Berryville, Virginia,
carrion a full line of
Fine Woolens. •
Fancy Cassimeres,
i J {■' All work uuamnteed to he as rop
rcsented, ami tirst-class in tit ami si vie.
%2~ Having employed a cutter, who
is a graduate of the John MitehcM ut
tiiijt School *»f New York, feel confident
in otfcriuj; our services to the citizens of
Jellerson that we can stive entire satis
faction and will u>e every means to stive
our work a hijrh reputation.
S'llixftlt fintt Iiimt'fftit
apr.9,’Sft lv.
at the office tf
THE H. P. HUBBARD CO., Judicious Ad
vertising Agents &.Experts, New Haven,Ct.
Ojf Auth? z*d Agent* who con q.ot^urve^Jowjrt
id.*- i 'j -ates. Adve'tiie'n*'"** do
» « !, p a ccwn 4-J o«'. of I ny * jj %
.. re to
n>»por»,t j p*r.,e» upon app.nation LbBJU—u-Jm
_ \whBELltVt M *-—■?
lf% „M _ “T^ We wul mail *»n receipt of I Oc.
\ FA l R,H ON E8T fan* g paper* Flower Smbyoa
\ 0 calino /ss^rona5
\mo«ysASsl g^JiyS'SiFS
vnatrERAUNENT# chutoeocour*. Stamp* taken.
\ nr.nm.r..._. f Any and all tranetiM ol Onr
\PR08PCRrTYf ilea Seed* muled ->n receipt
hHHwaal of Ac. per paper. All wh> try
par Seeda become regular patrons. Our packets are
liberal iu quantity Z. llrKOKK*»T KI.Y dt CO.
Seed Merchant. Grower* and Importc-rs
191X1 .Market «*t., l'hUuilcIpkiu, Pa.
For Rent
An excellent room for nicrchatile j
busines. Gom! location. Apply or *
write to T. P. Lippitt.
!thi; criminal class.

I The Question of Their Reformation Con
sidered By an Experienced Detective
—How Ex-Convicts Who Would
Be Honest Are Pursued
By Officers.
Written for the (Amrier-Journal by Itob
< rt A. Pinkerton.
The question of the reformation
of persons who have been criminals
is one to which I have given consid
erable thought. My experience
leads me to believe that nineteen
! twentieths of those who are convict
I »’d of crime for the first time are
! willing and anxious to reform when
their term of imprisonment expires.
I am of the opinion that a man con
victed of his first offense, if the sen
tence given him is a moderate one,
enters prison with a firm resolve
that when he lias served his term
he will endeavor to reform and lead
a better life. Where persons com
mitting a lirst offense receive a
heavy punishment, which is in no
way tempered with mercy, all hope
is dispelled. Despair follows and
they care little what becomes of them
in after life, and are liable on leav
ing prison to associate with crimi
nals whom they have met there. The
belief grows on them that they can
never associate with honest men, as
after their long confinement it seems
almost impossible for them to get
honest employment.
A man who may be known as a
professional crook or criminal, also
at tunes has serious thoughts to
wards reforming, and 1 have no
doubt the reformation of many of
these men could he accomplished if
the proper encouragement was held
oni to them, instead of their being
hounded from the time they leave
prison until they are returned there,
which is quite frequently the case
It often happens that men of this
class are persecuted by police olH
I eials on the supposition that they
; may have been connected with a
crime, or if not connected with it
| have a knowledge of its commission,
I and are keeping this information
I away from the officers.
Fcrrrn r.v cork nr roi.tCE
I tor tin* reason that they are thought
J to he stealing and not giving up a
percentage for police protection. I
have boon instrumental in past years
i in aiding numbers of these men to
i honest employment, and have yet to
hear of the first ease where one of
them lias broken faith aud not lived
up t;* his promise. In procuring
men of this kind employment it has
been my invarible rule to explain to
[ t!n»i> employing them just who they
are and their past record, at the
same time expressing confidence that
they really wish to reform and would
do as they agreed. Iti every instance
where I have got employment for a
man of this kind lie has given satis
faction. and some of them have been
promoted not only to responsible,
but also to trustworthy positions,
1 and their employers have grown to
j have great confidence in them. As
1 have ahead; said, it has been my
invariable rule in getting employ
ment for a man of this kind to ex
| plain his past record to the person
J employing him. as ! considered it
f would not be proper for me to ree
! ommend a man who has been a
cryninal,to honest employment, with
out letting his employer understand
just who he was, in order that he
might exercise at the start some lit
tle care in regard to the repentant
man. It also serves the purpose of
protecting the man in his position.
There is no necessity for concealing
his ident'ty from his employer, as
he then has no fear of his past rec
ord being discovered, knowing full
well that is long as he behaves him
self and attends strictly to his bus
iness and watches the interests of
his employers, he has nothing to
isv a urn.!: caueh l watching
it i- an easy matter to tell w hether
a man who has been a professional
criminal, and who has been put at '
honest w rk, proposes to do what is
right. In firsfplace, he would drop
all his old associates. If he was a
man who hail been addicted to
drink, he would discontinue the use
of liquor entirely, and he would not
be s**en aroun 1 the resort >. localities
or saloons frequente 1 by criminal
classes. If le* had a wife and fam- 1
i!v he won I spend liis evenings at
home, and person of experience, by
dropping in to him once in a
while, could easily judge—by con
versing with him and Ids family j
and looking around the rooms—
whether he was prospering or not. ,
It very often occurs that a man who
probably for many years has been a
professional criminal, on leaving i
prison has an honest desire to re- j
form, and, with that intention, seeks ;
and obtains some employment.
Shortly afterward an officer or de- i
tective comes along, who, through j
some corrupt motive, or on account
of some prejudice or old feeling j
against tt>e man who is striving to 5
reform, ascertains where he is em- *
ployed and immediately gives the
i information or has it conveyed to
his employer in an indirect way, as
j to the man and his past record.
1 have known many cases of this
It has often seemed strange to me
that people who remember charita
I ble institutions in their wills do not
i leave a fund to the aid of those who
may have been unfortunate enough
j to make a lirst false step. The great
diiliculty in men coming from prison
with the intention of reforming is,
that it is almost impossible for them
to get employment, owing to their
lack of reference. In leaving a pris
on a man scarcely ever receives
more than money enough to pay his
fare back to the point from which
he was convicted and a day or two's
lodging and board. He has no other
clothes than those given to him at
the prison. If he is a man who is
without a home or without friends
to help him at the end of his two or
three days’ board, he is by necessity
obliged to seek for food, or money
with which to obtain it, from the
very men who above all others he
should be kept away from. This is j
especially the case with a man who j
has been known as a professional
criminal. Falling in with his old j
associates, not being able to get ,
any employment, and no one taking i
any interest in him to get him em- ;
ployment, it is only a question of a
short time when he is actually |
to reed into resuming his criminal
career. The question as to how these j
men can be employed. Of course it
is not possible to force them into
employment; neither would it be
proper to put them into responsible
positions. They should be graded
according to their intelligence and
education. There are many places
where men of this kind could he
employed, where there would be no
motive for them to steal, and where
it would be impossible for them to
do so. Many of them would find
employment themselves, and if let
alone would continue in such em
ployment, but some society wou'd
have to be formed similar to the so
| city of the Prevention Cruelty to
Animals to protect them. Its agents
should be in all parts of the country.
For instance, where a man has been
| convicted of a crime in New York,
i on being released from prison it
might he necessary, in orde*’ to keep
him away from his old associates
and give him a new start in life, to
scud him to some other city or local
ity. Communication could be kept
up between these various agents of
i the society in the different parts of
the country, and one could help the
other. I am satisfied that if an or
ganization of this kind weic once
started and properly managed under
honest and competent officers and
agents, it would soon gain the con
fidence of the public, and charitable
men and women who would come to
its aid, and he among the most earn
est and influential looking toward
the reformation of these men and
women. Men coming from prison
would soon learn to have confidence
in the society, and would be con
vinced that they could trust it, and
that people merely for the sake of
i curiosity could not ascertain any
thing in regard to them. Of course
there would be criminals who would
endeavor to impose on the society
and try to use it for the purpose of
promoting some of their schemes,
but I venture to say that the num
ber would be very few. The society
should also make it a rule that
where an effort had been made to re
form a man, and he had intention
ally and wilfully deceived the socie
ty and still pursued a life of crime,
the society’s course would be to give
information against him and have
him punished.
The Detroit Tribune says: There
are properly but two methods of fry
ing; one by which the object to be
fried is immersed in smoking hot
fat, and the second by which the
object i* fried by contact with the
metal of the frying-pan, just enough
fat being used to prevent sticking.
Food properly fried is delicious and
not greasy. When fried food tastes
greasy it is because the grease was
not properly heated, or because there
was not enough of it.
When fat is hot enough to fry
with, it is at a temperature between
345 degrees F. and 400 F., and j
closes the pores and carbonizes the |
exterior of the object so that no lat j
is absorbed. The directions here-1
with are for frying by the first pro- 1
Use a pan large enough so that j
the fat, lard or oil will immerse the j
article to be fried If you use the
wire basket made for lifting articles
out of fat without piercing them
with a fork, it is necessary to set the
basket into the fat before it is heat
ed. If you set the cold basket con- ‘
taining cold food into the heated fat j
there will be a spluttering suilieient
to throw the food over the stove; the
fat will also soon be cooled below’ the I
trying point. Fried articles should
be laid for an instant on warm blot- i
ting-paper when they arc taken from
the fat, that any adhering fat may
be absorbed.
A great deal of lisli aful other
kinds of food is badly and vrastcful
])’ cooked in consequence of the |
prevalence of a false theory of fry- I
ing. It is evident that many domes
tic cooks (not hotel or restaurant
cooks) have a vague idea that the
metal plate forming the bottom of
the frying pan should directly con
vey the heat of the fire to the fried >
substance, and that the bit bf butter
or lard or dripping put into the pan
is used to prevent the fish from
sticking to it or to add to the rich
ness of tho'fish by smearing its sur
The fact is that the melted fat
cooks by connection of heat just as
water does in the boiling of meat.
The fish, etc., should be completely
immersed in a bath of melted fat or
oil, and the turning over demanded
by the greased-plate theory is un
necessary. Well educated cooks
understand this distinctly, and use
a deeper vessel than our common
frying pan, charge this with a quan
tity of fat sufficient to cover the fish, ;
which is simply laid upon a wire 1
support or frying basket, and left in
the hot fat until the browning of its
surface, or of the Hour or bread
crumbs with which it is coated, in
dicates the sufficiency of the cook
* i ^ • .1.1. il. - I.nih
ilt Jlinu OI”41b tl4t- vuui
appears extravagant, as compared
with the practice of greasing the
bottom of the pan with a little dab
of fat, but you can easily prove the
contrary by cooking a weighed
quantity of any kind of fish or cut
let, etc., in a weighed quantity of
fat used as a bath, then weighing
the fat that remains and subtracting
the latter weight from the first, to
determine the quantity consumed.
If the frying be properly performed,
and the quantity compared with
that which is consumed by the
method of merely greasing the pan
bottom, the hath frying will be
proved to be the* more economical as
well as the more efficient method. ,
The reason of this is simply that:
much or all of the fat is burnt and
wasted when only a thin film is j
spread on the bottom of the pan,
while no such waste occurs when
the bath of fat is properly used.
The temperature at which the disso
ciation of fat commence* below
that required for delicately brown
ing the surface of the fish itself, or
of the flour or bread crumbs, and
therefore no fat is burnt away from
the bath, as it is by the overheated
portions of a merely greased trying
pan, and as regards the quantity
adhering to the fish itself this may
be reduced to a minimum by with
drawing it from the bath when the
whole is uniformly at the maximum
cooking temperature, and allowing
the fluid fat to drain off at once. It
may be supposed that by complete
immersion of tin* fish in tlie fat bath,
more fat will soak into it. but such
is not the case. The water amidst
the fibres of the fish is boiling and
driving out steam so rapidly that no
fat can enter if the heat bo well
maintained to the last moment, and
the frxing not continued too long.
When cooked on the greased plate
one side is necessarily cooling and
the tat settling down into the fish to
occupy the pores left vacuous by the
condensing steam, while t he other is
being heated from below.
The temperature of the fat-bath
may be tested by the ordinary
cook’s method, that of throwing into
it a small piece of bread-crumb,
about the size of a nut. If it frizzles
and produces large bubbles of steam,
the filli temperature of frying in hot
test of fat is reached: if it frizzles
sugntiy, ana oniy give uui suuui
steam-bubbles, yon have the temp
erature demanded for slow frying.
Gouffo, the famous French chef,
says: “Fat is the best for frying;
tire light-colored dripping of roast
meat and the fat taken off broth are
to be preferred. These failing, beef
suet, chopped fine and melted down
on a slow fire, without browning,
will do very well; when the bottom
of the stew-pan can be seen through
the suet it is sufficiently melted.”
He is no advocate for lard, “as it
always leaves an unpleasant coating
of fat on whatever is fried in it.”
Olive oil of the best quality is al
most absolutely tasteless, and hav
ing as high a boiling point as ani
mal fat. it is the best of all frying
media. In this country 'there is
a prejudice against the use of such
When limbs arc broken off trees
smooth the-part with a knife and
cover it with soft grafting wax, so
as to exclude the air, and they will
heal much sooner than if exposed.
Do not plow heavy clay soils
when they are wet, but wait until
they can be pulverised. If frost be
expected the plowing of wet land
will do no injury, but as the season
is now well advanced chances of the
frost assisting should not be taken.
We h ave no record of the census '
of Memphis at the period spoken of
by Diodorus. According to that
histoVian.it was seven leagms in
circumference. Not one stone of it
now remains, and even the site on
which it stood is disputed. Cairo
was built from its ruins.
The author tells in graphic style
of the effect of the news at his home
in Southwestern Virginia of Lin
colns demand for troops to suppress
the “rebellion’’ in the South. “All
the pride and affection that Virgin
ians had felt in the traditions of the
government that their ancestors had
made,” he writes, “and the great in
heritance which they had bequeath
ed. were lost in the overpowering
sentiment of sympathy with the peo
ple who were threatened with inva
sion. It is a mistake to supi>ose
that the Virginia people went to war
in obedience to any decree of their
State commanding them to go. On
the contrary, the people were in a
State armed revolution before the
State acted in its corporate capaci
ty. I went along with the flood like
everybody else.” We pass from the
early part of Mosby’s career as a
private in the Washington Mounted
Rifles, which was afterwards incor
porated in Stuart's regiment, to a
period of his later history, which is
more noted for its incidents. But
in passing it is well to give his brief
and lifelike portrait of the great
cavalry leader as he appears in the
beginning of his career. “I first
saw Stuart,” he says, “at Bunker
Hill, (between Winchester and Mar- !
tinsburg.) He had then lately re- ;
signed from the United States army ,
to link his fortunes with the South
ern Confederacy. He was just twen
ty-eight years of age—one year old
than myself—strongly built, with
blue eyes, ruddy complexion and a ;
rcuaisn heard, lie wore a mouse
and a foraging cap with a linen cov
er, called a haveloek, as a protection
against the Sun. 11 is personal ap
pearance indicated the distinguish
ing traits of his character—dash,
gteat strength of will and indomi
table energy. Stuart soon showed
that he possessed all the qualities of
a great leader of cavalry—a sound
judgment, a quick intelligence to
penetrate the designs of an enemy,
mingled with the brilliant courage
of Rupert.” After the first year of
the war, the events of which are in
terestingly related, he became a
scout for Stuart, and with a few men
under bis command rendered valua
serviees. This is the Colonel's
Christmas story of 18(52; “A regi
ment of Pennsylvania cavalry left
their camp on the Occoquan and
their Christmas turkeys, and came:
out to look for us. They had better
have stayed at home, for all the good :
they did was to lead Stuart’s caval- !
ry into their camp as they ran 1
through it. After leaving Dumfries, :
Stuart ashed me to take Beattie aud '
go on ahead. The road ran through
a dense forest, and there was dan- '
ger of ail ambuscade, of which every
soldier has a horror who has read of
Bra (block’s defeat. Beattie and 1
went forward at a gallop until we
met a large body of cavalry. As
no support was insight, several olli- '
ccrs made a dash at us, and at the |
same time opened such a fire as to
show that peace on earth and good
will to men, which the angels and
morning stars had sung on that day j
over 1,800 years ago, was no part of j
their creed. The very fact that wo
did not run away ought to have j
warned them that somebody was be
hind us. When the whole body had
got within a short distance of us,
Stuart, who had heard the firing, :
came thundering up with the First i
Virginia Cavalry. All the fun was 1
over with the Pennsylvanians then.
There was no more merry Christmas
for them. Wade Hampton was rid
ing by tbe side of Stuart. He went
into the fight%nd fought like a com
mon (or rather an uncommon) troop
or. The combat was short and
sharp, and soon became a rout.
The Federal cavalry ran right
through their camp, and gave a last j
look at their turkeys as they passed,
but, alas! they were “grouse but liv
ing grease no more for them.’ ”
The operations of Mosby with his
company of partisans in 1863-G4 in
Fauquier and Loudon counties—
“the Flanders of the war"—include,
perhaps, the most interesting inci
dents of the famous ranger's cam
paigns. “The militaiv value of a
partisan’s work,” he very justly .ob
serves, “is not measured by the
amount of property destroyed or the
number of men killed or captured,
but by the number ho keeps waTch
inir. Every soldier withdrawn from
the front to guard the rear of an ar
my is so much taken from its fight
ing strength.” This was the motive
of Mosby’s adventures. He adds:
“Mv men had no camps. If they
hud gone into camp they would have
bfcen captured. They would scatter i
for safety and gather at my call like ,
the Children of the Mist A blow
would be struck at a weak and un
garded point and then a quick re- -
treat.” Here is an amusing narra
tive illustrative of the luck which
generally attended the movements of j
the rangers: “Many expeditions
were undertaked and traps laid to
capture us, but all failed, and my
command continued to grow and j
flourish until the final scene at Ap-1
pomattox. * * * We did not go
into a number of traps set for us, |
but somehow we always brought the
traps off with us. One stratagem ;
was after the model of the Grecian
horse and would have done credit to
Ulysses. The)' sent a train of wag
ons up the Little river turnpike from
Fairfax, apparently without any
guard, thinking that such a bait
would catch me. But each wagon
were concealed six of the Bucktails,
who would, no doubt, have stopped
my career, if I had given them a
chance. Fortunately, I never saw
them, tor on that day I had gone by
another route down to Fairfax.
When the Bucktails returned they
had the satisfaction of knowing that
I had been there in their absence.”
Another attempt to capture him is
thus related: ‘‘Cavalry expedition
under Major Gilmer was sent up to
Loudon to do the work. He had
conceived the idea that I had my
headquarters in Middleburg and
might be caught by surrounding the
place in the nighttime. He arrived
before day and threw a cordon of
pickets around it. At the dawn of
day he had the village as completely
invested as Metz was by the Ger
mans. He then gradually contract
ed his lines and proceeded in person
to the hotel, where lie supposed I
was in bed. I was not there; I nev
er had been. Soldiers were sent to
every house, with orders to ar
rest every man they could find.
When he drew in his net there was
not a single soldier in it. He had,
however,caught a number of old men.
It was a frosty morning, and he
amused himself by making a soldier
take them through a squad drill to
keep them warm; occasionally he
would mark time in the street in front
of the hotel. All this afforded a
good deal of fun to the Major, but
was rather rough on the old men.
Ilf Ul |jiciniucu IU umm,
that they were the parties who had
attacked his pickets. After a march
of twenty-five miles he did not like
to retire to camp without some
trophies, so he determined to carry
the graybeards with him He mount
ed each one behind a trooper and
started off. Now, it so happened
that 1 had notified my men to meet
that morning at Rector’s Cross
Roads, which is about four miles
above Middlcburg. When I got
there I heard that the latter place
was occupied by Federal cavalry.
With seventeen men I started
down the pike to look after them.
Of course, with my small force, all
that I could expect to do was to cut
off some straggling parties who
might be marauding about the
neighborhood. When I got near
Middlcburg I learned that they had
gone. We entered the town at a
gallop. The ladies all immediately
crowded around us. There were, of
course, no men among them. There
was. of course, great indignation at
the rough usage they had received,
and their wives never expected to
sec them again. And then, to add
to the pathos of tiie scene, were tile
tears and lamentations of the daugh
ters. There were many as pure and
as bright as any pearl that ever
shone in in Oman’s green water, and
their beauty had won the hearts of
many of my men. To avenge the
wrongs ot distressed damsels is one |
of the vows of knighthood, fo we
spurred on to overtake the Federal
cavalry, in hopes that by some acci
dent we might be able to liberate
the prisoners.” Near Aldie the Col
onel and his party came upon what
he took to be a part of Major Gil
mer’s rear guard, and in the charge
the Colonel’s horse run away with
him. “I had scarcely started in the
charge,” he says, “before I discover
ed that there was a body of cavalry
dismounted at a mill near the road
side which I had not before s«*en
They were preparing to feed their
horses. * * * I was unable to
stop my horse when I got to them,
but he kept straight on like a streak
of lightning. Fortunately, the dis
mounted troopers were so much
startled that it never occurred to
them to take a shot at me in trans
itu. They took it for granted that
an overwhelming force was on them,
and every man was for saving him
self. Some took to Bull Bun moun
tain, which was near by, and others
ran into the mill and buried them
selves like rats in the wheat bios.
The mill was grinding, and some
were so much frightened that they
jumped into the hoppers and came
near being ground up into flour.
When we pulled them out there was
nothing blue about them.” But the
Colonel’s horse bore him on, and
another body of cavalry ahead of
him, into which he was madly [dung
ing. became frightened and took to
their heels, just as he jumped from
his horse to escape capture himself.
Just then a Federal officer made his
appearance, and the Colonel adds:
“Tom Turner, of Maryland, one of
the bravest of my men, dashed at
him. As Turner was alone, I follow
ed him. I now witnessed a single
handed fight between him and the
officer. * * * Before I got up I
saw the horstf of the Federal officer
fall dead upon him, and at the same *
time Turner seemed to be about to
fall from his horse. The Federal
officer, who was Captain Worthing
ton, of the Vermont cavalry, had
fired while lying under horse at j
Turner and inflicted quite a severe
wound. The first thing Turner said
to me was that his adversary had
first surrendered, which threw him
oft his guard, and then fired on him.
Worthington denied it.” It turned
out that this was not Gilmer’s rear
guard, but they learned from the
prisoners captured at the mill that
Gilmer had gone towards Center
ville. Thither Mosby started, but
met the old men Gilmer had taken
trudging home afoot. Gilmer had
mistaken a large body of his own
men in the neighborhood for Con
federates, and in his hurry to escape
and after floundering in the mud,
dropped the old men and got away
as last as he could. That night
there was another great rejoicing in
Middleburg. The book is filled with
such incidents as these, and it will,
of course, be widely read both North
and South.
She Knew What She Wanted and
Shopped with Sense.
Boston Record.
It was at the linings counter in
a certain store, and seven women
were seated on the stools in front of
the counter buying linings. The
patient salesmen listened to their
discussions and their monologues,
answered their inquiries and pa
ticntly changed their orders to suit
their whims. Suddenly a blithe yet
quiet little lady appeared with a bit
of gray cheviot in her hand. One
of the salesmen, who was waiting
for a lady in a black satin gown to
determine whether she would have a
yard and a half or a yard and three
quarters of perealine, looked at the
newcomer with an expression of
inquiry' and relief. He evidently
iccogniseu uer, aim iivpeu lo u.i\r
the pleasure of waiting upon her. It
must have becu a pleasure to his
soul, tried with the exasperating
delay of the woman he was serving.
“Please give me live yards of Eng
lish cambric, exactly two shades
darker than this cheviot,” said the
woman, who new what she wanted,
“and one yard and seven eighths of
the second quality of silcsia, two
shades lighter, and a yard ot hair
cloth of the color of the cambric.
Please take this $2 bill and I will
t be back for my change and things
' after I have been to the buttons and
trimmings counters."
I had the curiosity to follow her
to the trimmings counter. Slo* asked
for her silk and twist, cotton, braid,
shields and whalebones iti the same
quick, exact manner, ami turned
around to the buttons counter while
they were being done up. Slo- asked
for the card of sample buttons,
picked out those she wanted incred
ibly soon, then retraced her steps,
gathering up her purchases as she
went, taking a parcel from the conn
ter of cheviots as she passed after
going to the linings counter. Prob
ably she hadn't time to have the
tilings sent home, and one can easily
imagine that she had that drt*s*» cut
out and fitted and half finished he
fore she went to sleep that night.
-■ -——
The water supply of the various
European capitals affords some in
teresting facts, not the least not ible
of which is that Koine heads the
list with her 204,000.000 litres of
pure water—a liter being a little
more than one and three-fourth*
pints—every twenty-four hours, and,
as her population is 345.030, everv*
inhabitant can t hus dispose of near
ly 000 litres per day. London come*
next, for every one of whose popula
tion of rising 4,000,000 there are 300
litres daily. Paris takes the third
place, her population amounting to
2,240,124, and each inhabitant hav
ing for alimentary purposes 58 litres
per day, and for secondary uses 109,
or a total of 227. Berlin has 1,312,
283 inhabitants, for each of whom
there are 140 litres daily; Vicuna,
770,172 inhabitants, with 100litres
each per day; Naples, 403,172, with
200 litres, and Turin, 278,598, with
90 litres a head every 24 hours.
A Mistake Which She Remem
it eked.—Boston young lady—"I
want to look at a pair of eye glasses,
sir. of extra magnifying power."
Dealer—“Yes. ma'am: something
very strong?” *‘Yes, sir; while vis
iting in the country last summer I
made a verj’ painful blunder, which
I never want to repeat!” “May I
ask what that—er—blunder was?"
‘ Oh, yes; I mistook a bumble bee
for a blackberry.”
—— • — - —
Fkicasseed Ciuckex (French
style).—Dress, cut up and well wa .b
two chickens, trimming off all the
fat. Put them in just water enough
to cover them, with a little salt and
pepper. Boil slowly till tender, and
remove from the gravy, into which
stir the beaten yelks of four eggs,
one-quarter pound of butter, a little
nutmeg, two teaspoonfuls of Hour and
one cup of cream. Let it just come
to a boil, and pour over the chicken.
This will be found a most delicious
Young chicks will eat wheat when
they are two weeks old, and they
should be given plenty of it. When
they droop from rapid feathering
they should be allowed a small pro
portion of meat daily.

xml | txt