The Brookhaven leader. [volume], May 24, 1883, Image 1

About The Brookhaven leader. [volume] (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1883-1891

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j?-***"—”VOLUME I. BROOKHAVEN, MISSISSIPPI, THURSDAY, MAY 24, 188:1. NUMBER 14. |
THE SKEIN WE WIND.
If you and I, to-day,
should stop and lay
Our life-work down, and let our hands fall
where they will—
Kail down to lie quite still—
And If some other hand should come and
stoop to llnd
The threads we carried so that It could wind,
llcginnlng where we stopped; If It should
come to keep
Our life-work going; seek
To carry on the rood design
Distinctly made yours, or mine.
What would It And ?
Pome work we must tie doing, true or false:
Some threads we wind; some purpose so
cialta
Itself that we look up to, or down.
As to a crown
To bow lie fore, and we weave
threads
of different lengths and thickness—some
mere shreds—
And wind them round
Till all the skein of life is hound.
Sometime* forgetting nt the task
To ask
* The value of the threads, or choose
Strong stuff to use.
No hand but winds some thread;
It can not stand quite still, till It Is
dead.
Hut when It spins and winds a little skein,
tiisl made each hand for work—not toll-stain
Is required, but every hand
Spins, thourh hut ropes of sand.
If Lore should come.
Stooping above when we are done.
To And bright threads
That we have held, that It may spin them
longer—And but shreds
That break when touched, how
cold.
Sad, shivering, portionless, the hands will
hold
The broken strands and know
Fresh cause for woe.
—Ueoroe Klinglt.
-w • •
A BICYCLE STORY.
Fearful lildr Down a Mountain.
Our mine, the Spondulix, of Colo
rado, was the*highest on the range. It
was 2,670 feet above Silver Brick Sta
tion, and nine miles distant from the
village. From the works up to the
mines there was a broad, hard, smooth
road, used for carting ore down from
the mines and hauling supplies up.
The average grade down the mountain
was threehundred feet to the mile; in
some places it was considerablv steeper,
and at intervals almost level. ’The road
was made partly on the bare rock, and
wound up a narrow gulch; presently it
climbed outside the chasm, and here at
several places the road-bed had been
Masted out of the solid rock, or cut into
the perpendicular side of the mountain;
but every where the road was almost as
smooth and bard as a floor. Knowing
that a loose stone might cost the lives
of lxith teamster and team, where some
times the brakes would not entirely
cheek the descent of an ore-wagon, un
til one of the nearly-level places had
been reached, the teamsters were care
ful to keep the surface of the road clean
and smooth.
By constant practice I managed at
last to ride niy 52-inch “University”
roadster up the whole slope to the
Siwmdulix, of course resting at levels,
but my chief delight was trie coasting
down again; it required skill, a good
deal of nerve, anti a firm grasp of the
brake.
One evening an accident occurred to
one of those engaged at the mine. I
instantly got out my bicycle, explain
ing that I could go swifter than a horse
down the slope. In a few minutes I
had on my rirting-suit and was off.
The night was clear and crisp; the
full moon, except in a few curves,
shone directly into the gulch, lighting
up the road. Leaning well back, with
my legs over the handles, and a firm
finger on the brake, I allowed the wheel
to glide down the first long slope at a
speed which I never dared to venture
before. Finding the motion safe, I al
lowed the machine to run faster, and
still faster. Over the first level I shot
like an arrow. Down the next slope I
seemed to glide on the rushing wind.
Then I turned a curve and ran into the
shadow of the mountain upon the next
level. Knowing every inch of the road
however, I did not slacken speed except
slightly.
As 1 Hew over the top of the next slope,
s steep plunge of nearly half a mile, an
other curve completely shut out the
moon, making the road almost as dark
ns a pocket. Here I put down
the brake hard, and checked my speed
materially. Still I knew the road so
well that 1 had no fear. But just as I
was upon the steepest plunge of the
slope——
Clink!
Something flew from the machine
like a bullet. Instantly the wheel dart
ed forward like the rush of a frightened
bird, while the brake lever came home
to the steering-bar under my finger.
The brake nad broken short off in the
olbowi
There was nothing to check the ma
chine, which was running away with
me, with over five miles of mountain
grade before me, and the chance of
meeting a team any moment in the
dark. I might have leaped backward
off the machine at the instant of the
break, but five seconds afterw'ards it
was too late. To attempt a dismount
would be certain death. There was
nothing to do but stick to the saddle
and take my chances.
Within thirty seconds the machine had
acquired a velocity never before ex
perienced by mortal rider. The sensa
tion was like that of falling through the
air. The rush of the atmosphere past
me was like a fearful gale. The wheel
no longer felt the inequalities of the
road. It seemed to glide smoothly over
» perfect plane. I felt no sense of
shocks from pebbles, or hollows, or
protuberances. In fact, I believe that
there were many places, especially
when I shot over the brow of a steeper
incline, where the whole machine took
a flying hop, or rather a long, skim
ming glide through the air, without
touching the road.
It was lucky that I had practiced so
much coasting down this very road, and
that I knew every inch of it so thorough
ly. Going at that amazing speed, lean
ing far back in the saddle, the steering
was somewhat novel and peculiar. The
sjM*ed gave the wheel such an obstinate
disposition to keep on a straight line
that I could not have turned a short
curve if I had tried. A very little too
much turning of the steering-bar would
have wrenched it instantly from my
hands, and smashed the wheels to frag
ments. But my practice had taught me
the necessity of making my curves long
and easy when coasting at great speed;
and by instinct my grasp upon the
steering-bar was that of desperation,
both my arms being kept as firm, yet
flexible, as spring steel,
When the accident happened, I was
jnst entering a dark curve In the shadow
of the mountain. The wall on ray right
appeared a dark, almost invisible
brown, while the chasm on my left was
of an inky blackness. As I rounded the
hollow of the curve, I could see the
moonlight shining far ahead on the
point of the elbow which I must turn
where the road was channeled into the
wall. As I approached it I had the
sense and nerve to run on the outer side
of the road, close to the edge of the
canyon, thus giving myself as broad a
turn as possible, l found bv the track
of the wheel afterwards that at the
sharpest turn I had actually ridden
within throe inches of the extreme edge
for several rods, where, if I had been
going at a less fearful speed, the wheel
would certainly have slipped over the
edge, and carried me down a fall of on«
thousand feet.
Safely past this, the worst point, th«
remaining curves were easy. Thus far
there had been no time to think. My
actions were more instinctive than rea
soning. My mind was a wild, confused
whirl of sensations and fears.
But now, as I shot down the last steep
incline, suddenly I experienced a terri
ble mental shock. It was caused by
hearing the tinkle of a bell far below,
and seeing the spark of a lantern such
as the mine teamsters carry in front of
their wagons. There was a team, per
haps a train of teams, coming up the
road! In a few seconds I should Ire
upon them. The shock made me think,
and that clearly. If the teamster was
walking beside this team, he would be
on the inside, next to ihe mountain
wall, and the team would be in the
middle of the road. If he was riding,
the team would be kept near the mount
ain wall, and a safe distance from the
outer edge of the track. Either way
my best chance was to pass on the out
sine. As I approached, therefore, I ran
close to the outside edge of the track,
and flew by in safety, hearing the team
ster shout as I did so. Here it was
lucky that I was going at such great
speed, for the teamster saw the red
light of my lantern when I was nearly
a mile distant, and, recognizing it, h*e
started his team toward the outer edge
of the road, so as to give me the safest
passage on the inside; but I was upon
and past him before the team could be
driven over, otherwise I should have
surely ran into them.
And now the wheel ran along the
level at the bottom of the mountain;
still my frightful velocity did not per
ceptibly diminish. I ran out past the
works, and into and along the village
street. Luckily the street was covered
thinly with sand—not enough to make
it bad riding, but sufficient to gradually
stop a coasting wheel. My speed slack
ened perceptibly. Still I ran nearly
through the village, and then managed
to turn a broad corner and run up the
slope of a side street, which finally
checked my speed so that I ventured to
drop my feet cautiously and take the
pedals, after touching them as they
came up for a number of revolutions, to
help to check the machine.
And so I finally stopped and leaped
to the ground exactly in front of Ur.
Cameron’s house.
On mounting at the mine-house 1
had looked at my watch after a habit I
had; and now, from the same habit, I
looked at it again. I was not aston
ished to find that I had made the nine
miles from the mine to the doctor's in
a few seconds less than thirteen min
utes. Allowing six and a quarter for
the first two miles before the brake
gave way, and I must have made the
last seven miles in less than six and
three-quarter minutes. 1 firmlv believe
that I covered seven miles in less than
six and a half minutes, incredible as
such speed seems.—Chicago Tribune.
(lentlemauly Burglars.
In future gathering* at his club Mr.
J. II. Ervine, of the firm of Franklin,
McVeagh & Co., will be able to relate a
good story in the shape of a reminis
cence. It relates to the exploits of two
genteel burglars who visited his resi
dence at Ridgeland early yesterday
morning. The good nature and sang
froid of the two gentlemen who held
their pistols toward his head and talked
about the weather are due largely to the
knowledge that they would not be dis
turbed by a policeman, there being none
in the village. The burglars crawled
in a window, and, making their way
into the room in which Mr. and Mrs.
Ervine were sleeping, covered them
with pistols, while they ransacked the
apartment. Mr. Erv ine says they ap
peared to be pretty decent fellows, that
they kept up a jolly sort of conversa
tion while they selected the property
they wanted, and at his reouest laid
aside several things of small value which
he desired to hold as keep-sakes. When
they were about to enter another room
they desisted laughingly when told that
they would find nothing worthy of then
attention except two babies. One of
the men remarked that as it was purely
a professional call he would not fright
en the children. They did not wish to
frighten anybody unnecessarily, and, of
course, they must rely on the gentle
man's statement that nothing was to be
had there. After the cracksmen were
gone, Mr. Ervine made an inventory of
his possessions, and found that they
had taken two watches and a small sum
of money, worth in all about $150. The
same burglars are supposed to have vis
ited the house of Charles L. Ames sub
sequently, from which they were fright
ened by a pistol-shot. The affair lias
been reported to the police of this city,
who are on the look-out for the inter
esting pair. Lieutenant Shea thinks he
will yet nin across them. Ervine thinks
he would know them again. Mr. Er
vine values his experience very highly.
—Chicago Timet.
—This is the use to which the tel
ephone is put in Iowa, according to an
exchange: An eavesdropper “ took this
off ” the other morning when the ther
mometer stood at ten below: He (in
Lyons)—“Is that you, dearestP” She
(in Clinton)—“Yes, love.” He—“Put
the mouthpiece to your lips.” She—“Yes,
what?” He (kisses)—“That!” She
“Oh, my! Was that lightning?” He
—“Did you get it, dearest?’v She—
“Yes, love—cool and distant, but so
*weet. Call again.”
TThj JMI
It is the "open secret’' which, as Car
lyle insisted through his long life, most
people fail to rean; the obvious truths
which most people continually overlook.
They are always looking into the dis
tance for the succor which lies in their
own surroundings, to others for the
help lodged in tneir capacity, to those
richer, stronger or wiser for the power
in their own strong hands, to the wide
world for the opportunity which lies
hidden in their own neighborhood. We
can not learn too soon nor too well that
in ourselves is lodged whatever force is
needed to send ns along the path of a
successful life; that close liesule us is
the work which our hands are to do;
and that right Indore our feet is the
path in which we are to walk.
In every community there are men
and women "waiting for something to
turn up.” They think they are willing
to wort, but they fail to find anything
to do; they are looking for opportuni
ties, but somehow the opportunities
elude them. Every successful man is
overrun with applications for positions;
every vacant place is crowded with peo
ple who are anxious to fill it; every ed
itor is overwhelmed with the manu
scripts of those who aspire to success in
literature; and yet thousands of these
seekers for positions do not find them,
or if they find them do not keep them.
Numberless manuscripts go back every
year to those whose uesire for literary
work will never bear fruit in any satis
factory results. What is the trouble?
Most people want to begin at the top.
Instead of taking hold of the first piece
of work that comes to hand, and driving
it through as if it were the grandest
thing they ever expected to no, they
either decline it because it does not
meet their tastes,or they do it in a half
hearted way because they take no real
interest in it. Their thoughts are so
far in advance of what they arc doing
that the thing in hand is only half done.
It is the use of the first opportunity that
makes a second opportunity, but thou
sands are always waiting for the second
to come first; they are expecting mira
cles when they ought to be working
along the normal lines of success. It
is the boy who takes a place in the
country store and puts brains, strength
and heart into the weighing of sugar
ami the measuring oi potatoes, who
finally sits down in his office in a great
warehouse and telegraphs his orders to
the ends of the earth; the other boy,
who wanted to lie a great merchant, by
omitting the sugar and potatoes contin
ues in the obscurity of his native village.
These small duties, these meager oppor
tunities, are the training-schools of suc
cess, and no one. gets the prizes who
does not take his degree in them.
The world is full of people who do
things "fairly well;” it is in daily and
pressing need gf those who do them su
premely well. There are thousands
who would like to write, who make no
grammatical blunders, are guilty of no
solecisms, and can strike off sentences
that read fairly well; every editor reads
hosts of manuscripts from such writers.
The article which is always in demand,
for which there is always a place, no
matter how crowded the pigeon-holes
are, is the article which is rich in vital
ity, tense with earnestness, instinct
with fresh thought. The men and
women who write such articles do not
pass at once from a school composition
to the pages of the first magazines ami
papers; they think, feel, live, suffer and
work until the gift of insight is matched
by the gift of speech Paul already
had the training of the schools and the
early vigor of a splendid intellect when
the heavens opened over him on the
road to Damascus, and a great new
truth was flashed upon him; but he did
not at once become a teacher; he went
into Arabia and spent three years in si
lent meditation before he took up the
mm that was to address Jew, Greek and
Homan with a wealth of thought, a
glow of conviction and a splendor of
speech such as they had never had lie
fore.
If j'ou want success, do not expect to
get it by chance, but seek it through
the open doors of the things that lie
next you; and seek it as if your soul de
pended upon your finding it.—Chris
tian Union.
-
Fashion ] iems.
Keu or green shk pompon trimmings
are fashionably worn on walking cos
tumes of tweed or nuns’ gray ladies’
cloth.
The new zephyr plaids make jaunty
lawn-tennis costumes, and the colors
oftenest combined are olive, the new
shade of cranberry-red, and pale prim
rose yellow.
Pale amber and gold lieads, or those of
pearl and gold, are used to outline silk
embroideries on Grecian house-robes
and matinees of white albatross cloth or
vigogne.
Long Jersey gloves, ten-button length,
in silk and linen, or finest cachemire,
are highly favored for spring wear.
These gloves can be found in every de
sirable street shade.
Haw silks and pongees, in novel tints,
quite different from the old gray and
ecru shades, will be worn this summer,
as polonaises or redingotes over short
underskirts of velvet or best brand of
"Louis” velveteen.
Halbriggan stockings abound in the
new varied tints of strawberry, amber,
terra-cotta, drake’s-neck blue, laurel
green, bronze,elderberry', and a deep rich
shade of violet Each of these colors
is clocked with old gold or cream white.
Lilacs, crocus and arbutus blossoms,
laburnum snowdrops, and, above all,
daffodils and jonquils—pale harbingers
of spring, "all sprinkled with dew,”
made of powdered crystals—are the
corsage and coiffure bouquets par ex
cellence with dressy evening toilets.
Among other pretty dainties whieh
fashionable young ladies are preparing
for summer wear—works of their own
hands -are garden-party hats of ficelle
lace, lining the inside of crown and
brim with pale blue or rose-colored
surah or Canton crape. Another fancy
is to run black velvet ribbon through
the meshes, finishing with a knot of
velvet on the top of the crown.
An heirloom of a dress, wrinkled with
age and the weight of the clothes
press, lately brought to light to utilize
as a costume for a fancy areas party by
a youDifuJ butterfly of fashion, was
found to be of a shade exactly corre
sponding with the modern one known
as terra-cotta. But the owner of the
dress -the grandmother of the girl —
smiled knowingly and shook her head
w'hen the shade was named, saying that
the color of her dress when she wore it
was just pickinini, and nothing else.
New coaching parasols are ilisplayed,
showing gay band-paintings and cm
broideries of sporting and pastoral
scenes, humming birds, flights of swal
lows, besides coats-of-arms, and em
blematic devices wrought in silk and
studded with half-precious gems set in a
network of silver and gold threads, and
raised tufts of silk chenille. Sometimes
it is the monogram only, embroidered
in mock jewels upon one division of the
parasol, and the design on the mother
of-pearl handle is frequently inlaid to
correspond.
Applique is a very favorite method of
decorating the surface of nnpatterned
materials. Beautiful designs in rich ,
Oriental colorings can now be purchased J
by the dozen at the fancy stores for a
reasonable price. Flights of sparrows
and other tiny birds, gay butterflies,
roses, carnations, daisies, moss buds
and ivy leaves, and other represents- j
tions of nature and art are obtainable. |
A very pretty tablier recently worn over
a dress of dark green plush was covered
with the eyes of peacock’s feathers man
ufactured in silk.
A unique style of evening dress
affected by many young ladies m socie- 1
ty, is a Grecian dress of palest yellow i
Hindoo cashmere, embroidered in Gre
cian patterns. Doe-colored kid sandals i
accompany the dress, worn over stock- ;
ings of nale mauve-colored silk, em
broidered in gold. The flowing, half
long sleeves, also embroidered, are met
by long Swedish gloves stitched with i
mauve silk. The corsage is covered j
with a large bertha of costly lace, fast
ened at the belt with acluster of Jacquc
roses, tea rose-buds, anil heliotrope
blossoms. If artificial, the blossoms
are scented, each delicately, with their
natural perfumes.
A costly novelty in lingerie is ngrace
ful collar of black velvet or satin, cut in
Vandykes, and richly-embroidered on
the deep points with tiny clusters of
dark red roses and buds, and black pop
pies with golden hearts. The edges are
finished with slightly giUhered ruffles of
black guipure lace, with a plaited frill
about the neck of the same lace. These
collars are worn without a vestige of
white around the throat. Other collars
in the same style for evening wear are
made of white satin or silk, embroidered
in white marguerites outlined with tiny
pearl beads,'and finished around the
points with frills of pearl-beaded Vene
tian lace.
It is now many months since a report
was raised that panniers were “ a thing
of the past,” and would quickly be out
of style. Many fashion writers, learn
ing of their continued popularity in
Paris, denied this statement, and it only j
needs a very cursory glance around the ■
parlors of our modistes to perceive how
very fallacious was their information, '
and how little probability there exists j
of a fashion found so generally becom
ing suddenly ceasing to exist. The
continuance of this mode, however, does
not prevent equal favor being shown to
the long redingotes falling plainly over
the skirts, or the close-fitting basques
and panels and flowing draperies.
Shawl tabliers—that is, with one
point either in front or at one side—are
seen upon new imported walking
dresses. If of heavy material, the
tablier is plain and flat, but if draping
softly, the same effect is produced by
cutting the tablier very long and plait
ing the sides in folds. Round tunics,
raised much higher at one side than the
other, are also much liked. The collec
tion of folds at the short side is usually
ornamented by a bow or straps of broad
ribbon or velvet run through a buckle
and falling in long loops and ends over
the skirt, and often these ribbons show
six or eight harmonizing colors, each
shade beiug faced with a bright color in
contrast.—N. V. Evening Post.
-• »
The Origin of Postage Stamps.
The idea of an adhesive stamp affixed
tit a letter, as indicative of the payment
of postage, is much older than has been
generally supposed. It is known that
the first'suggestion of such an arrange
ment in modern times came from Row
ling Hill, the father of the cheap postal
system in England, about the year 1839
or 1840. It was several years, however,
before his suggestion was carried into
effect. History, however, tells us that
the ancient German cities of Thurn and
Taxis had such a system, which, for
inexplicable reason, fell into disuse or
failed to become general among nations.
The mislern postage stamp then was
first used in England about the year
1812 or 1843. In 1845 E. A. Mitchell,
then postmaster of New Haven, taking
advantage of the English idea, mailt* use
of a postage stamp of his own, which
he continued to use until 1847, when
the Government of the United States
Issued the first Ameriean jK>stage
stamps. They were in two denomina
tions. The nve-cent was of a light
brown color, bearing the head of Frank
lin, and the ten-cent of a gray color
with the efligy of Washington. At that
time the rate of letter postage was five
and ten cents, according to distance.
In 1851 a series of six denominations
was issued. The one-cent stamp was
blue, bearing an elliptical band upon
which were the words: “U. S. P. O.
Despatch. Pre-paid, one cent.” Within
the band was an eagle with wings out
spread. The two-cent stamp was also
blue, bearing the head of Franklin: the
three-cent Vermillion, with head of
Washington; the five-oent chocolate,
with head of Jefferson; the ten-cent
green, with head of Washington, and
thirteen stars in a serai-circle above; the
twelve-cent was black, also with head
of Washington. The twenty-four,
thirty and ninety-cent stamps were sub
sequently added to the series. The first
of these bore the face of Washington;
the second was orange, with the head of
Franklin, and the last was dark blue,
also with the head of Washington.
There was in this series also a square
carriers’ stamp, blue in color, and bear
ing the head of Franklin.—Xew Haoen
Palladium._
—France can put 3,000,000 armed and
trained men in tne field
The Tornado Spawn.
The tornado season has fairly com
menced, though not in the section of
•ountry where it* most terrible ravages
ire usually experienced. Those which
occurred early in the month at Hot
-prlngs and Ozark, Ark..were compar
atively harmless though thirteen live*
were lost and much prooerty destroyed,
out the Mississippi and Georgia affair
was on a scale sultieient to entitle it to
in- called the inaugural of the season,
and from now until August, or even
September, we may look for similar
recurrences in the southw<*stern part of
the country. The signal service nas in
vestigated over six hundred tornadoes
with the ‘ result of the dis
covery that the late spring nnd summer
are the periods when they are to lie ex
pected, the larger number occurring in
June. This year they have commenced
earlier than usual and at points further
east than usual, for Kansas, Illinois,
Missouri and Iowa are the principal
sufferers. Mississippi, Georgia and Al
abama, aud the borders of Tennessee
and South Carolina are more or less
ravaged by tornadoes, but—this spring
being an exception—not with such dis
astrous results as attend those which
originate in Texas and the Indian Ter
ritory, and travel their northeastern
course through the States above men
tioned.
Although it is early in the season,
the recent tornado is one of the most
destructive ever known in this country.
As nearly as can be ascertained from
tltc conflicting accounts this tornado
entered the continent from the Gulf of
Mexico, crossing the Mississippi a short
distance bi-low Natchez without doing
anv special damage in Louisiana; at
tins point it divided, one branch going
southeast, the main funnel, however,
keep'ng on its northeastern track, and
inflicting the most terrible losses of life
and property at Wesson and Beaure
gard, in Copiah County. It passed Ab
erdeen, in the northeastern part of the
State, crossed Alabama obliquely with
out much damage, and entered Georgia,
in Harris County, crossing the Chatta
hoochee ltiver, curiously enough, at the
very point where every storm has en
tered Georgia si nee 1804, the first year
in which a tornado was recorded. It is
also curious that it divided on the
Georgia line, just as it did on the Mis
sissippi line, one branch keeping on its
northeastern course, stiending itself
in South Carolina, while the other
veered into Southwest Georgia. It
will be seen, therefore, that it
traversed an immense area of ter
titory, its damage being spread over
five States, though the heavy losses are
confined to two. As compared with
the damage occasioned by tornadoes in
1881 and 1882, the results are frightful.
The whole number of lives lost in 1881
was 187. Last year they amounted to
369. By way of comparison a state
ment showing the loss of life occasioned
by the worst tornadoes of 1882 will be
of interest. In April fifty lives were
lost at Brownsville, Mo., and Monticel
lo. La.; in May, eighteen at McAllister,
Tex.; in June,’ 100 at Grinned, la., and
thirteen in Kansas; and in July, twen
ty-five at Coalville, Pa. As we have
said, 369 lives were lost in all last year,
and 187 in 1881. The complete reports
of the loss of life occasioned by the re
cent tornado have not yet been sent in,
but it is already known that 190 per
sons were killed. As of the 283 injured
many will die, and many counties swept
by the tornado have not yet been heard
from, it is reasonable to estimate that
the total loss of life will reach at least
250, w hich is much larger than that oc
casioned by all the storms of 1881, and
only one-third less than those of 1882,
which was considered an exceptional
tornado year. It will also be observed
that it lias inflicted a loss of life more
than twice as great as that at Grinnell.
In view of such disasters as these,
and the certainty that they will occur
in specified sections of the country at
specified times, it is not creditable to
science that these terrible phenomena
of Nature are not better understood,
and that some means for the protection
of hiituau life in the tornado area have
not been suggested. Now that science
says it has exploded Scriptural revela
tions and pretends it has made a myth
of an overruling Providence, it would
seem as if it might understand these
natural phenomena and strip them of
some of their destructive power, and
no longer let the wind blow where it
listeth. We fear, however, that it will
always remain true that no man can
tell whence it oometh or whither it
goeth. The most the signal service has
done is to recommend the building
of underground dwellings as
of refuge, which is not
practic.-e, and it may be remarked
they do not always constitute places
of refuge. The only man who has
made a practical, well-sustained sug
gestion with regard to the origin of the
tornado is Prof. Tice, of St. Louis,
who, notwithstanding his vagaries as a
weather prophet and his unfortunate
place of resilience, is a man of scien
tific attainment. His theory is to the
effect that the tornado is a display of
electrical energy, and that the mani
festations of every tornado, such as
denuding trees of their bark and re
ducing wood to fibres, are electrical in
character, the splintering being oc
casioned bv the passage of the electric
current through the sap, wluch de
composes it into its constituent gases,
expanding with terrific force. Whether
Tice’s theory be true or not, the sub
ject deserves more thorough treatment
tl*in it has yet received from the hands
of the savants. Who is the future
philosopher who will bottle the tornado
as Franklin bottled the lightning?—
Chicago Tribune.
^
—This is a recent ordinance in the
town of Bellary, India: “ Resolved.
»
I '
rying eataEles, and overturning the
tiles of the roofs of the houses iu the
town, these animals be caught and sent
out into the jungles, and that arrange
ments be made that monkeys may not
receive any injury while being seized.”
—Leo XIII. seeks relaxation in the
composition of Latin poems, all of
which are printed under his careful
supervision. After a few copies have
been taken the type is distributed.
PERSONAL AND LITERARY.
—Mr. Theodore Tilton ha* grown fat
and no longer look* intellectual or ro
mantic.—S. Y. Sun.
Joaquin Miller rise* to remark that
the daily newspaper is •• the six-shooter
of Eastern civilization." Every man
nmst have one or fall to the rear of the
prtHvssion.
—Henry I>. McDaniel, who was
elected Governor of Georgia recently, is
worth about $.50,000, and has a practice
a* a lawyer worth from $.1,000 to $4.
000 per year.
— George Alfred Townsend has Isiught
a house in New York with the proceeds
of his pen, which, like a good hus
band, he has promptly given to his wife,
and in which he expect* to end his lit
erary days.—.V. Y. Graphic.
—The venerable senior and Presiding
Bishop of the American Episcopal
Church. Dr. Smith, may be said to have
been a citizen under every President of
the United States. He was five years
old when General Washington dieif.
—Representative Holman's home, in
Dearborn County, is alsmt seven miles
from the county seat, where he prac
tices law. He goes dow n on the rail
road in the morning, comes back to
dinner at noon, goes down to court
again liefore two o’clock, and returns
home in the evening. He has done this
(or years.—Indianapoli* Journal.
—Keppler, who has gone far to the
front as the leading American cartoon
ist. sailed for Europe a few days ago.
Five years ago he was employed by a
leading publishing house at a paltry
salary of thirty-five dollars a week, and
he is now said to be worth over half a
million. His health, is, however, com
pletely shattered, and his European
tour is solely for the purpose of recov
ering his shattered system.—-V. Y.
Time*.
—Postmaster-General Gresham is the
sixth member of the Cabinet from In
diana since the organization of the Gov
ernment. These were the following:
Caleb B. Smith, Secretary of the In
terior, 1X81 to 1883: John P. I’sher,
Secretary of the Interior. 1X63 to 1X65;
Hugh McCulloch, Secretary of the
Treasury, I860 to 1X79: J. N. Tyner,
Postmaster-General. 1876 to 1877; K.
W. Thompson, Secretary of the Navy.
1877 to 1880.
—There have now Ijeen sixty years
cf American novels—for it is alrout that
time since Cooper dashed into promi
nence with his “Spy” and his se i
stories, and his character of Leither
stpoking. He was our forlorn hope for
| some years—since Irving could not
properly be called a novelist; but
now our authors like misfortunes
"come not single spies, but in battal
! ions,” and there is a ruck of novels,
, good, bad, and worse.
—In November next four hundred
years will have passed since the birth
of Martin Luther, and a new edition of
the reformer’s works is announced as
one of the proposed modes of doing
him honor which Germany will adopt.
Hitherto the best edition of his Latin
and German works has been that pub
lished at Erlangen, 1826-1857, and in a
j second edition, 1X61. That edition will
be superseded by the new one. The
German Emperor has presented the
necessary funds for the undertaking,
and the Prussian Ministry of Worship
has appointed a committee to superin
tend it.—,V. Y. JJvrald.
HUMOROUS,
— If a ship-owner wants to auction
off his vessel he should not put to sea
in a storm. He might lose the sail.—
AT. Y. News.
—•• You are a great coquette,” said
a young man to a Madison avenue
young lady. “ I plead jilty,” was her
response.—Harlem 'l imes.
—The aisle of a church is not the
proper place for a sexton with squt akx
boots. He should try some other kind
of “ile.”—N. Y. Advertiser.
—Mulcahy says the statement that
John Roach's ship is the first iron ves
sel launched in America is a mistake,
as Mrs. Mulcahy frequently launches
iron vessels at him.—Boston Com
me trial Bulletin.
.—Mrs. Spaggins was boasting of her
new house. The windows, she said,
were stained. “ That's too bad; but
won’t turpentine or benzine wash it
off?” asked the good Mrs. Oldboy.—
Burlington Hawkeye.
—Samuel Gunn was recently ar
raigned in a local court for intoxiea
| tion. When he shot his breath at the
Judge the latter remarked that it was
’ evidently a muzzle-odor, but he couldn’t
permit a discharge.— Yonkers Oazette.
—He stood before her holding both
her hands in his and he asked softly:
“Why am I like a railroad train?”
“ Because you never get anvthing to
eat?” “No, my own, it is because I
hold two-wrists.”—Pittsburgh Tele
g raj >h.
—The editor wrote that “he was a
member of an old family of musicians,”
and when it appeared in the paper it
read “a member of an old family of
nuisances.” One assertion was just as
true as the other, but the editor nearly
swore. —Norristown Herald.
—“I don’t want no rubbish, no fine
sentiments, if you please.” said the
widow who was asked what kind of an
epitaph she desired for her late hus
band*8 tombstone. “ I*et it be short
and simple, something like this: ‘Will
iam Johnson, aged seventy-five years.
The good die young.’ ”—N. Y. Tribune.
—Two Western sportsmen had talked
on one side of a wallow, and were hesi
tating as to whether it would do for
either to cross the patch of mud for a
bird that had been shot. “The end
will justify the means,” said one. The
other glanced at his jean trousers, and
then at the mire, and retorted: ‘‘Say*
rather, it would mustify the jeans.”—
Rome (N. Y.) Sentinel.
—An old head—The head of naviga
tion. How to know a sail-maker—Bv
the “cut of his jib.” A bug that still
continues to thrive—Humbug. The
soldier who was at a loss for something
to write about, was ordered to “right
about face. ” When are certain persons
who travel in France like dissipated
young men?—When they are on the
road to Roueo — Boston traveler.
Temperance.
Hew They Reran and Haw They
Ended.
It began this way: Two boy* came to
the city from the country. They left
' home with kindly word* of advice ring
ing in their ear*. Their parents bade
them remember the good counsel given
them in youth, and earnestly entreated
them to resist the many temptations
which the city would place before them.
And they promised to remember the
word* of loving counsel, and went out
from the hearthstone of home to face •
the world and tight the battle ot life,
; I rave of heart and hopeful of overcom
ing in the Htrife.
One day they were going by a saloon.
On the Kereen. which stood a little way
back .from the op n doors hiding from
Uie passers-by wnat took place within,
was displayed a card on which was
written: “ Fresh lemonade. Only tive
cents a glass. ”
“ A glass of cool lemonade would
taste good this hot day,’’ said John.
“ Let's go in and get some.”
“ I'd like the lemonade well enough.”
said Philip, “ but I don't really fancy
the idea of going to a sabsui to get it/’
“Pshaw! laughed John. “What
difference does it make whether you buy
your lemonade here or somewhere else?
We needn’t drink anything else if we
don’t want to.”
“ I know that,” answered Philip, hes
itatingly. “I was thinking that father
wouldn't like it if he knew. He’s op
posed to saloons, you know.”
“Ye*, but how s he to know anything
about it?” urged John. “Come on; I'll
pay for the lemonade.” And he drew
his companion into the saloon.
They drank their lemonade. The
proprietor exerted himself to make
their call pleasant, and when they were
going he urged them to have another
drink.
“ Better have a little something in it
to give it the right kind of flavor,” he
said, smilinglv.
“ All right,'- said John: and the man
poured some of the contents of a long
necked bottle into each glass. The boys
drank it down. The Ih n »r was strong
enough to produce considerable effect
; upon them. It made them "jolly.” they
told each other; blit I don't think either
of them would have called the effect that
if they could have foreseen what the end
; would be.
Well, they went to that saloon again.
It was not long before they feh a kind of
I contempt for a man who would drink
anything as m id as lemonade. That
might uo for boys, but they were mm
and they could di ink whisky and brandy
and gin. And they could smoke, and
play cards and billiards, and talk slang.
: This kind of an educat on is acquired
with wonderful rapidity. In six months
1 they were go<sI scholars in the school of
! ruin.
The end came to one two years ago.
In a dninken brand he was stabbed to
the heart. To the other the end came
only last week. “Died of delirium tre
mens,” a friend said.
It is sad to think that daily boys are
beginning this kind of life, and sadder
to think what the end may be. O boys!
be careful, be careful.—E. Rex
, ford, in Youths' Temperance Banner.
Uncle BUI Then and how.
When I was a drunkard I could never
get my barn more than half full. The
first year after I signed the pledge I
till'd my barn; the second year I tilled
my barn and had four stacks. When I
was a drunkard I owned only one poor
old cow. and I think she must have been
ashamed of me, for she was red in the
face: now I own five good cows, and I
own three as good horses as ever looked
through a collar. When I was a drunk
ard I trudged from place to placp on
j fool: now I can ride in a carriage of my
own. When I was a drunkard I was
three hundred dollars in debt; since I
signed the total abst:nence pledge I
! have paid the debt, and purchased two
hundred acres of wild land, and I have
the deed in my possession; two of my
i sons, who are teetotallers, are living on
that lot. When I was a drunkard l
used to swear; I have e-ased to be pro
fane. The last year of my drunken
ness my doctor's hill amounted to thirty
dollars; sine*! I signed the pledge I have
not been called upon to expend a cent
for medicine.—Exchange.
m 9 m **
Temperance Items.
A Commission of Inquiry into the
liquor traffic, with reference to its con
nection with pauperism, disease and
crime, has been appointed by the Cana
j dian Parliament.
i Over five thousand versons in Chi
cago have joined the new Temperance
organization, the League of the Cross,
and have taken the pledge under the di
rection of Father Hayes, S. J.
A whisky-seller at Whitehall, N. Y.t
! is in a bad mess. He has been found
guilty of selling liquor illegally to four
hundred and fifty-seven persons, and
has been sentenced to pay a fine of nine
thousand dollars aijd stay in jail until it
i is paid.
The shin-kino suicide of Edward
Jump, a well-known caricaturist, who
killed himself recently in th) office of
John B. Jeffery, startled the commu
nity. The cause assigned f >r the rash
deed was whisky, anil is another warn
ing against that terrible demon at whose
doors nine-tenths of the crimes of the
land can be laid.—Chicago News.
The Observer quotes John Stuart
Mill as saving that “the liberty of the
individual' ends, however profitable to
himself, when it becomes ruinous or fa
tal to another. ” Apply this sound prin
ciple and it teaches us plainly that all
pursuits which are injurious to onr
neighbors must be abandoned, or be
wrongfully pursued. — Chicago Starr
dard.
Mr. Francis Murfhy, the Temper
ance worker, has written to New Or
leans that he will visit that city upon
his return to the United States. He says
of the Temperance ••cause” abroad.
“ The work in England has gone on
apace until the Queen has said: ‘Well
done!’ Millions of the people have
signed the pledge, reducing the revenue
£2,500,000. ana the postmaster found it
in the savings of the people in pure
gold.”