The Caldwell tribune. [volume], January 07, 1888, Image 2

About The Caldwell tribune. [volume] (Caldwell, Idaho Territory [Idaho]) 1883-1928

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» ID*HO.
John L. Bfhkjya* ate hit Thanks
glv<og turkey ai. Leeds, England. Af
ter dinner he amused the major of
that city by performing eome mind
iding tricks he baa learned from Fat
pheedy. Boston Is prouder than ever
her son.
todko man in Boston fonnd him
ob the death of his father and
fier, in unrestricted possession of
1000. When tho period of mourn
expired he bought a small cir
sind traveled about with it in the
Epaeity of chief showman until the
•ntlre fortune was squandered. Then
the show was sold at auction.
J ones met Smith one evening ro
oently and romarked that he was
about to build a house. "Good idea,"
laid Smith; bow much money hare
fou?" "About $3,000." 'Three thous
and dollars; well, that will build a very
neat $2,000 house with economy." The
point of this is visible only to those
who have tried house-building
A jSiRHiK author, saying that
rom'en in some departments of
literature have entirely supplanted
men. gives as a reason that women are
carried away with the current of the
day. "In art, as in life, they always
follow the latest fashion, are realists
to-day. idealists to-morrow, and there
fore always sure to appeal to the taste
of the moment"
A Quitman, Gl , policeman had a
'«frange experience oné evening recent
ly. A negro whom he arrested gave
him so muoh trouble that he had to
use his club to quiet him. He hit the
"arfest" on the head two or three
rimes, when he was startled by the
sudden blazing up of the negro's wool.
After the novel fire was put out the
negro explained that he had been
using his hair as a match-safe.
A t the Nashville raoe-course the
other day a man stood near a book
making stand undecided how to bet his
money. While he was trying to make
up his mind m to what to do a red
headed girl suddenly passed by him.
He saw her, wheeled around, bet his
money on the only gray horse in the
race and lost it This is not the usual
way of ending such stories, but the
««"th must be told once in a while.
Don ^l Dickinson is about 45 years
old, is iVj flue health, and ktroug in
mind and bwdy. He is a law\ er, and
at the head or^ v very prosperous firm
in Detroit ThetV ftre three or four
partners in the fl rR1| an d they are
noted in the west for tdieir ability as
collectors of bad debts. Fifty thousand
dollars is Riven as the iN, t income of
the firm, of which Mr. Dic ^ erH QQ takes
$30,000. He is not only a ha ,.j worker,
but he finds time for politic»^ an j go .
I n San Francsco there are j onr
jals regularly published in Cht„ e9e
characters. These appear weekly,
have a circulation of 2,500 copies. Ac
day. Five days' work are requVféd to
get out an adition of one thousand
copies. The journals are prluted with
ink upon single sheets of while paper,
except on the Chinese new year, when
the printing is done with red ink or
upon red paper.
In nothern Alaska, says a traveler
the sun ràines twenty-two hours out of
the twenty-four during midsummer, and
on (he high mountain peaks for a per
lid of several days in June it is not en
tirely out of sight during the twenty
four hours. In July and August the
weather becomes wery warm. After
this time the days gradually shorten
until the sun shines but four hours out
of the twenty .four, but at this period
vJ^il.e aurora is exceedingly intense and
help« very mnterially in dispelling the
darkness.
cording to the Chinese method a good
printer can print four hundred sheejfc-tf
- - r -
A Crank called on Secretary Lamar
last week and demanded a million
acres of land in the West to establish a
new "Land of Canaan," where the fol
lowers of the "Unborn Lamb" could
worship in peaoe far from civilization's
vices. He said he was the high priest
of the new order. Mr. Lamar inform
*£ ihe unreliable Indian is
•till a feature**»' the far West, and that
the vices of civilization are preferable
to the cutting elects of the tomakawk
and scalping-kni^c
F armer S talling », of Mineral
oouuty, West Virginia, saw a wild
turkey run across the road closely
punued by two big eagles, which
caught it an iustant later. Stallings
ran to the birds, and. with a oluU beat
off the eagles and captured the turkey,
which was alive, but almost entirely
stripped of feathers. The eagles
doned .theic prey with great
anoe, and flying a few yards,
led on a tree and watched Mr.
ings go away with the turkey,
ntly debating whether or not to
k him.
he oft-asked question, "Wbere do
birds obtain fresh water to slake
ir thirstP" is probably oorreetly
awered by an old skipper, who says
that he has frequently seen these birds
far from any land that could furnish
them water, hovering around and un
^dpr a storm -cloud, clattering like
d icks on a hot day at a pond, and
d 'inking in the drops of rain as they
fJll. They will smell a rain squall a
hundred miles or even farther, and
•outi for it with aimost inconceivable
swiftness. They can probably go a
long time without water.
Toilet articles should now be made
of silver to be fashionable. The pin
cushion is set in silver, with enameled,
repousse, or etched designs. Some
times it is set with rongh pearls; some
of antique silver, or silver
with raised work in gold. It has an
upholstered satin top, and it opens like
» box, acting, in fact in the double
»^apsolty of pinonshiou^Mi jewel-case.
]t costs from $13 to All oombs.
brushes, and handmirrjWg are set in
silver ätfw. All one's manioure sets
and cologne bottles^nd toilet makeups
ojjsteriM of^li descriptions go in
oaves.
given in otsr
house for revenge; they are not give»
for spite nor even in anger: they are
given partly for punishment, bat main
ly by way of impressive reminder, and
a protector against a repetition of the
offense. The interval between the
promise of a whipping and its inflic
tion is usually an hour or two. By
that time both parties are calm, and
the one is judicial, the other receptive.
The child never goes from the scene of
punishment until it has been loved
back into happy-heartedness and a
joyful spirit. The spanking is never
cruel, but it is always an honest one.
It hurts. It hurts the child, imagine
how it must hurt the mother. Her
spirit is serene, tranquil. She has not
the support which is afforded by anger.
Every blow she strikes the child bruis
hes her own heart. The mother of my
children adores them—there is no
milder term for it; and they wor
ship her; they even worship any
thing which the touch of her hand has
made sacred. They know her for the
best and truest friend they have ever
had, or ever shali have; they know her
one who never did them a wrong, and
cannot do them a wrong; who never
told them a lie nor the shadow of one;
who never deceived them by even an
ambiguous gesture; who never gave
them an unreasonable command, nor
ever contented herself with anything
short of a perfect obedience; who has
always treated them as politely and
considerately as she would the best
and oldest in the land, and has al
ways required of them gentle speech
and courteous conduct tow ard all of
whatsoever degree, with whom they
chanced to come in contact; they
know her for one whose promise,
whether of reward or punishment, is
gold, and always worth its face, to the
uttermost farthing. In a word, they
know her, and I know her, for the
best and dearest mother that lives—
and by a long, long way the wisest.
< You perceive that I have never got
down to where the mother in the tale
really asks the question. Forthe rea
son that I cannot realize the situation.
The spectacle of that treacherously
reared boy, and that wordy, namby
"pamby father, and that weak, namby
pamby mother, is enough to make one
ashamed of bis species. And, if I
could cry, I would cry for the fate of
that poor little boy—a fate which has
cruelly placed him in the hands and
at the mercy of a pair of grown-up
children, to have his disposition ruined,
to come up ungovernea, and be a nui
sance to himself and everybody about
him, in the process ; instead ofbeingthe
solacer of care,the disseminator of hap
piness, the glory and honor and joy of
the house, the welcomest face in all the
world to them that gave him being—as
he ought to be, was sent to be, and
would be, but for the hard fortune
that flung him into the clutches of the
paltering incapables.
In all my life I have never made a
single reference to my wife in print be
fore, as far I can remember, except in
the dedication of a book; and so after
these fifteeen years of silence, perhaps,
I may unseal my lips this one time
without impropriety or indelicacy. I
will institute one other noyelty: I will
send this manuscript to the press
without her knowledge, and witnout
asking her to edit it. This will .save
it getting edited into the stove.—
Mark Twain in the Christian Union.
Bismarck on Eloquence.
uark is no orator. His speech
\ simple and plain. He thinks that
gift of eloquence has done a great
deàft mischief in parliamentary life.
It trieà^Vy appealing to the feelings to
settle questions which should be settled
by common sens«. When the Fedral
Council began its ^Mrk a few of the
members made eloquent speeches.
'Gentlemen, said Bishnarck, "there
is nothing to be achieved here by elo
quence, because everyone of yOtrbjings
his convictions along with him in ma
pocket—that is, his instructions?"
Oratory is only a waste of time. Let
us limit ourselves to a statement c>f
facts."
Herr Lasker, whose death in this
country was the occasion of a little
unpleasantness, once delivered an elo
quent speech in the reichstag. "These
eloquent gentlemen," said Bismarck,
commenting upon the speech, "are
like a good many ladies with small
feet, who always wear shoes too small
for them and stick out their feet to be
looked at. When a man has the mis
fortune to be eloquent, he makes
speeches too often and too long."
On another occasion, Radowitz, a
great orator, made a speech in the
North German parliament, which so
swayed the members that they were
ready to vote as he had urged them to.
One of Bismarck's colleagues, sitting
near him, was strongly moved by the
eloquence, and he shed tears.
"What are you crying about?" cool
ly asked Bismarck.
"You are heartless," answered the
colleague indignantly. The next day,
when a copy of the printed speech was
placed in Bismarck's hand, he hand
ed it to the same gentlemam, saying:
"Please point out to me the part of
the speech I ought to have cried over
if Ipossessed such a thing as a heart."
The gentleman looked it over and
then said:
"I don't know how it is, but the
speech does not make the same im
pression upon me in print " The ora
tor's voice, expression of face, and his
magnectic personality had carried the
colleague away.
Bismarck used to tell a humorous
story to illustrate the distracting ef
fect of eloquence. Frederick William
I. ,the despot king who publicly whipped
his son, subsequently Frederick the
Great once listened to the pleadings of
two lawyers. After the first one had
finished his speech the king, moved by
the advocate s eloquence, exclaimed:
"This fellow is in the right!" The
second lawyer then spoke, and with
such effect that the king said: "This
man has the right of it!"
Then recalling that he had contra
dicted himself he fell into afurious pas
sion and sent both orators to prison.
Good Washing 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 the clothes;
they wash with half the labor and come
out white.—Germantown Telegraph.
The total number of Catholic mis
sionaries, according to a German the
ological review, is 0,700. The Capu
chins have 1,000; Franciscans, 2,200;
Oblates, 300; Jesuits, 1,500; Lazar
ets, 200; Dominicans, 500, and the
balance belong to various congrega
tions or seculars.
The Salvation Army In England.
Dr. Theodor« Culex is venting »
is nervous activity in an
Etsgîish tour and, by way of relax
ation, preaching for Newman Hall and
Spurgeon in London. He also attended
a recent Meeting of the Salvatiôn
Armv and thbç records his impressions
in a letter to the-Xew York Evangelist:
Havinga 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. M^py
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, dose
behind me sat 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 60, tall and
slender, and looks more iike 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 cnorus with a tre
mendouseffect. It reminded me of one
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 a fine
control of an audience. He called on a
young uninformed soldier of his
"Army" to pray, and lie 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. Thanai- -'
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
now he might do by machinery what
heretofore conld be done only by the
hand of man. The result of his cogita
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.
But the use of this 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
Jbecome a part owner of this invention,
A èa.veat has been secured, and Mr.
Frizzerkia expecting to receive a patent
as soon as^ * v he pikers are mada out.
The Heaviest Locomotive in Den
ver.
From the Tribune-Republican.
Probably the heaviest engine
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-müe-long grade
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 are 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 the New 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 hauling freight over
the heavy grade between Laramie and
Green River during the last sixty days
to demonstrate the virtues of the
Wootten patent fire box, which is
specially arranged for burning waste
coal. Engineer E. J. Rauch says the
trial is so satisfactory that the Union
Pacific road will adopt the device, and
the Santa Fe road will try this éngine
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, but the patent is o wned 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.
A Woman in Love.
Did you ever see a woman who could
reason when she is in love? Such an
individual would be an excellent in
vestment for a dime museum, and
would run any number of months with
out change of programme. She would
surpass the "Witch of Wall Street,"
ana even distance "The living skele
ton." But you may calculate on one
thing: She is not.to be found.
1 If she makes up her mind that she
has discovered the one man in all the
world, she will speedily divest him of
vices and invest nim with virtues. If
he is addicted to drink, she will dream
of the reformation in store for him
through the magic of her affection.
No matter if you point ouc to her that
bleary old bloat that hangs around
the cheap grogshop; no consequence
'that you show her that pale, deter
mined woman who drags out her life in
a shop, sewing-room or school-room,
her lines will fall in different places. It
is a marvelous, incredible thing, this
love portion which blinded Titania 's
es to the donkey's head on the trunk
of Bottom, the weaver. #
From the New Yol
"Do I believe iai clairvoyants?" said
a well known rifizen of Rahway, for
merly a medicalfetudent, recently. "I
cannot say th^t I do, but I was once
almost ready to believe in them. In
the year 1845 the building at the
southeast corner of Barclay and
Church streets, New York, which is
now a factory, was occupied as a pri
vate boarding house. As the location
suited my convenience, I engaged a
room there, and took possession of it
one Saturday about the middle of
January. Among my fellow-boarders
was Dr. Hathaway, a surgeon of the
United States army, who had been on
duty at the hospital on Stat en Island.
During my first evening at the house a
young lady visitor was present, who
was introduced to me simply as Mary.
She was blind. I had listened but a
short time to the conversation of those
people before I learned that they were
almost monomaniacs on the subject
of mesmerism, and I afterward learned
that the bling girl Mary was a clairvoy
ant subject of Dr. Le Grand, a well
known French physician,who professed
to cure diseases by mesmerism.
"Before retiring that night I went
out to a restaurant in Park Row for a
plate of oysters. When I returned to
the boarding house, having been gone
a little over half an hour, the front
door, which I had carefully fastened,
was wide open, lights were glancing
about, and there were sounds of con
fusion in the upper part of the house.
I was told that Dr. Hathaway had had
a fit, and that Dr. Van Düren, Dr. Par
ker and another physician whose name
I can not recall, had been sent for and
were in attendance. Finding I could
be of no service, I went to bed, and
next morning the landlady informed
me that the Doctor's fit was a slight
attack of apoplexy, unaccompanied
with paralysis, and that he would
probably be all right in a few days.
He was not all right, however, either
in a few days or a few weeks.
"Before the end of the month I mov
ed uptown, but about the latter part
of March, having business down-town,
I called at my old boarding place. I
found Dr. Hathaway seated in his
room in an invalid chair, not quite
cheerful, but apparently not ailing
much, although he complained of a
slight pain in the right side of his head.
As I was leaving the house the land
lady drew me into her room and ask
ad me what I thought of Dr. Hatha
way's case. My reply was: 'TheDoc
ter is doing well. If he will get out
and take moderate exercise he will
soon be entirely well.'
"She shook her head mournfully,
and said: 'He will neverget out again.
He will never leave that room alive.'
" 'What reason have you for such a
melancholy supposition?' I asked.
" 'Mary says so.'
"'What! Has Mary been frighten
ing you with her flummery?" I asked.
" 'No; Mary has not been in the
house since the night you met her here, "
she replied. 'At Dr. Hathaway's re
quest i went to consult her at Dr. Le
Grand's office. She went into a trance
and examined Dr. Hathaway. She
says that the inside of the skull, on
the right side, is all sore and ulcerated,
and that there are three lumps on the
right side of his brain as large as hick
ory nuts; that he will neverget over it;
that it will all be over with nimby the
1st of May, and that you will be pres
ent at the post mortem examination.'
" 'Me?'
"'Vou.'
" 'What suggested such an idea as
that?"
"I don't know. She sometimes takes
great interest in strangers she casually
meets. She knows a great deal about
your future.'
"The fortune telling charlatan." I
thougnt. Of course I was a trifle too
polite to express my opinion aloud,
and after a few commonplace remarks
took my leave.
"During the next month my mind was
otherwise so much occupied that I al
most entirely forgot the afflicted phy
sician; but on the last day of April,
when I sat down to my dinner, I was
startled to find on my plate a note an
nouncing Dr. Hathaway's death, and
inviting me to be present at a post
mortem examination at 10 o'clock
next morning. When I entered the
death chamber at the appointed hour
I found several eminent physicians and
surgeons assembled there. Dr. Moses,
who was then demonstrator of anat
ojny at the university of New York,
was conducting the autopsy: When
the top of the cranium was removed
from the brain, andhanded around for
inspection what was nty^grprise to see
that the lining membrane On the right
side had been extensively inflamed,
exactly as the blind clairvoyant had
described, and lurther, upon cutting
into the substance of the brain on the
right side, three large tubercles were
found, a rare and remarkable patho
logical condition.
"That was very remarkable."
"Yes, but at the funeral I chanced
to ride in the same carriage with a rel
ative of the deceased, who told
me that a sister of Dr. Hathaway had
died some years before, after suffer
about the same length of time with
similar symptoms, and that the same
pathological conditions had been found
on post mortem examinations."
Gen. Putnam's Neglected Grave.
From the Norwich (Conn.) Bulletin.
Probably the one thing which is most
prominently associated with the name
of Israel Putnam in the popular mind
is his celebrated feat of daring up in
the beautiful town of Pomfret, where,
a century ago, he killed in her den a
Bhe wolf which had been depredating
upon the surrounding country. But
this Revolutionary hero's fame does
not depend upon this single and abnor
mally magnified incident of his career,
and there is considerable ground for
the indignant complaints which are
publicly made about the neglect of his
frave in the old cemetery in the neigh
oring town of Brooklyn. The spot
of his burial is marked by a marble
slab lying flat on a heap of stones and
badly chipped by relic hunters. It
seems strange that in these days of
monuments a suitable one has not
bfc.m erected to commemorate the vir
tues of him who distinguished himself
in the French war; who was captured
and nearly roasted alive by Indians
in 1758, who was conspicuous for hu
bravery in the cause of liberty at the
Battle of Bunker Hill, who became a
Major-General in 1775, who was ap
pointed commander of che Army of
the Highlands in New York in 1777,
who superintended the erection of the
fortifications at West Point, and who,
while the command in Connecticut,
displayed his bravery and intrepidity
in various perils of his time.
In Alaska in midsummer, according
to an interesting letter, the almost
continuous light of day shines upon
bright green slopes, shaded here and
there with dark timber belts, rising up
from the deep blue waters. An end
less variety of bright hued flowers, the
hum of inseöts and melodius song of
birds, together with a degree of heat
dispensed by the solor orb, which to
our thickened blood appears oppres
sive, would cause astfanger suddenly
transplanted there so think himself in
any country but
JSTRAUr.\
>f Water Which
ord (Ct.) Times.
It is not easy for anybody to
ixe, or even to correctly imagine.
vast amount of, water which is pour
ed out of the sky in a great August
rain, like this one which during the
first three or four days of the present
month has deluged so many and so
widely-separated parts of ourcountrv.
It is not easy to understand in the 1
"realizing" sense, however fully we
may comprehend the fact intellect
ually, how so much solid water can be
«upended in the form of invisible, va
por in the air. True, it is no longer
invisible, when it has been condensed
in the form of heavy rain clouds, but
it was all there, invisibly—somewhere
in the wide realm of air—before it be
came thus condensed. Take the
ending part of that great storm
for an example—what must have
been the actual amount of water
that was poured down, from Chicago
to Maine, from Maryland and the
Ohio to the White Mountains? It
rained seemingly as never before, in
all those regions. Throughout the
greater part of the Middle States it
made destructive river floods. In the
region about Chicago it amounted to a
precipitation of about five and one
half inches. In Maryland it was not
much less, and New York State re
ceived its share ot the general drench
ing. Here in Southern N ew England the
downpour was such as was never ex
ceeded—if indeed it was ever equaled. In
this immediate region the rainfall in one
continuous rain, from Monday after
noon to 3 o'clock Tuesday morning,
amounted almost to 6 inches. The
great October rain, of the 1st and 2d
of October, 1869, which such ruinous
work throughout Connecticut (chiefly
by the immense precipitation on the
second day), did not exhibit such a
steady and tremendous downpour as
that of Tuesday, August 4, 1885, be
tween the hours of 1 and 3 o'clock
in the morning. The volume of this
August rain is shown in the flooded
streams, which everywhere continue
to be flooded long after the usual time
for rain floods to disappear. The
Connecticut rives itself has kept rising
for a day and a half after the storm,
the rain having added about six feet
to its height. It was a heavy rain in
the White mountains, the gauge at the
Signal Service station on the summit
showing four and one-half inches.
This great rain came inland from
the Gulf of Mexico. Following the Mis
sissippi valley northward, the storm
was central at Detroit. It extended
eastward all the way from the Missis
sippi river to the Atlantic seaboard—
pouring as huge a flood upou New
England as upon most of the great in
termediate breadth of country.
It is impossible to estimate any such
quantity of water. Even of the amount
tnat was poured out upon our own
little State, it is impossible to get any
adequate idea. If we were to imagine
the area of Connecticut to be a perfect
ly flat, level surface, and the average
amount of rain for that one storm to
be not five, but not quite three inches
—what, then, would be the aggregate
quantity of water that was emptied
from the clouds upon our area of not
quite 5,000 square miles? Who can
fet any adequate conception of it?
Emptied in the same time into the
world's greatest river, it would affect
the volume of the Amazon. And this
for only one little spot in the area of
the actual downpour. Connecticut,
compared with the area, covers less re
lative space than a dinner-plate on a
big dinnor-table. It was almost as if
the great lakes had burst their bounds
and simultaneously emptied them
selves upon the country on this side.
Glimpse of an Attractive Mur
S derer.
Naw York Correspondence Albany Evening
Journal.
Jere Dunn is one of the bad men of
Now York city. He is a man of invin
cible courage, and gamblers and fight
ers of every degree are in absolute fear
of him. It is not only because he killed
Elliott and Hughes, but because he is
known to be always armed, quick as a
flash, and utterly ignorant of the
meaning of the word fear. If Dunn
happened to be a little more refined in
manner, he would be a double of the
fambler John Oakhurst, whom Brete
larte introduced in so many of his
early sketches. He is usually called a
handsome man. He h as a square face,
a well-trimmed dark beard, parted in
the middle, and he always wears a
perfectly-fitting frock coat and
a high hat. The expression of
his face is stern, alert and fixed.
Ha is ac tranquil as a wooden Indian.
The first time the writer ever saw him
-was immediately after the killing of
Elliott in Chicago. A party was going
to a prîïe fight in Flushing, and
among fifty or sixty persons present
there were about forty of ffiè toughest
citizens of New York. On the W3y
down to the grounds on the boat the
one subject of conversation was the
death of Elliott, and vengeance loud
and deep on Dunn was pronounced
everywhere. It was said that he
would never dare to come to New York
again. While the crowd was waiting
for the principals to appear, there
was a rustle, a whisper and a move
ment among the toughs as their eyes
turned on Jere Dunn, who suddenly
walked in among them as calm, col
lected and unmoved as ever. He was
correctly dressed, evidently in admir
able health, and he looked around at
the scowling faces without a _ trace of
embarrassment or apprehension.
Street Temptations.
There are parents who were shocked
by the recent revelation of v ices in Lon
don, and yet who are unconsious of
the fact that they are permitting their
own children to be exposed to the
same temptations that brought the
youth of London to ruin. In every
city in this country it is usual to find
the streets crowded in the evening with
young people—boys andgiris—who are
treadiug dangerous paths. Any even
ing you will find boys at the corners
or lounging by the doors of saloons
listening to the ribald talk of those in
side. These boys are in the nursery of
crime. The ranks of criminals are be
ing constantly recruited from this
class. They grow with marvelous
rapidity. Girls in their teens are
also found on the streets. You see
them going up and down or loitering
on the corners by twos or threes; girls
of respectable parentage, who perhaps
have their mothers'consent to walk
out awhile, not knowingthat frequent
ly by their actions these young daugh
ters are encouraging the familiar at
tentions of those scavengers of the
devil, the male flirts, whose notice has
so often been the forerunner of moral
degradation. Whenever a girl chafes
at the love guard which a mother's
anxiety throws about her she has
started on the downward course, the
end of which is a blasted home, a
mother's heart broken and a father's
head bowed in shame. If fathers and
mothers wish to save their children
they must make their homes happy
for the boys and girls within them,
and thus keep them out of the street.
An agent has just purchased a large
tract of land in Dallas county, in the
Northeastern part of Texas, for a col
ony of 156 families from Connecticut,
who will take possession next fall.
A KraUIMMM »fth« Wasw
Grand Army Gaaatt*.
I enlisted in the year 1862, !a »
small western town,under the lamented
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 the subse
quent years brought us new and meri
torious commanders, and the years
themselves were so pregnant with
events, with battleç 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 tke
coOhty court house, where the muster
ing 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 filled
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, &c. The boy insisted that
notwithstanding his youth there was
no one to dispute his right to serve his
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. "H."
I walked beside him to the rendez
vous, and laying my hand upon his
shoulder said to him, "Richard, we are
destined to be comrades-in-arms, and
I trust you fully understand the step
you have taken." He 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 oi
carnage.
We were ordered "front," and 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 were 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 care 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 laia
■waste this fair land, before the dread
ful civil strife with its hot breath
swept over it like the blighting simoon,
leaving this beantiful 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 hi3 soul, he
said, "That was once our home," and
the look of unutterable anguish that
came over the sweet, blue eyes, I can
not forget. I said, "Come away,
Richard, you see the hour of
regr et 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 no more, but as we
still sât 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
cursf5thepas8ion 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.
,these worlds he had not forgotten oitrtp
and I found it in my heart, too, to
The campaign, after some months of
weary marching and some fighting, cul
minated at last in the battle of "Stone
River," or Murfreesboro, abattleboth
lost and won upon that memorable
last day of the year, a batt le that left
us 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 H 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
Tennessee, and as we approached
Strawberry Plains, Richard told me
he had reason to believe he might hear
something of his brother, as he lived
in that vicinity before the breaking
out of the war.
1 It was a beautiful morning, and we
stood in the door of the box car as
I the train stopped at a small station
[called Mossyside. Richard clutched
my arm convulsively, and I can never
forget the look of joy, mingled with
Borrow, cub he cried in a broken voice,
!"My brother! Oh! my brother!"
In the vast crowd gathered there to
■M the Yankee prisoners there was a
•prbÄnaj'or of commanding
that I knew intuitively musf be Rich
ard's brother. Calling a small boy
and pointing the major out I asked to
have him come to the car.
As lie came toward the car, uncon
scious of whom he was to meet, I could
not but admire his handsome and
dashing appearance. He came 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," he said, "you are no 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
ffllro ltidhariii."
"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 bo over, and then all
differences could be righted. But
my task was 'no easy one, and it
was late at night before he 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 of Nashville and the grand
and 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 us 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 no serious nature, and I rejoined
the regimentrjust 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, on the siteof
the old cemetery, where the dead of
both armies lay in the thicket, that
we found poor 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
recognize in the pallid features of the
dead rebel the brother of Richard.
Nearly twenty years have passed
Bince 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 gravé w'.i
they fell; and upon the little slab we
put at the grave is inscribed, "George
and Richard Moss, united in death,
1864."
A Tale of the Sea.
The Ceylon Gazette of the 13th of
June gives the following narrative of
the only survivor of the steamer Speks
Hall, which recently foundered:
"When I came to the surface after
being washed off the bridge, I and
Quartermaster Usher were clinging to
the same life-buoy, and I saw the fun
nel of the Speke Hall going under
water. Boats and everything had been
smashed to pieces and washed away;
and, indeed, if the boats had been
available, they could not have lived m
such water. Catching a spar, I aban
doned the life-buoy to Uener. It was
dark at the time, and I could not
see him, and I saw nothing
more of him or any one
else. At daylight I managed to se
cure another spar. I lashed the two
spars together with my belt, crosswise,
so that I was able to sit on the center.
I could not have held on much longer
to the single spar, because every now
and then the spar would fall above me
and my head would go under water.
When daylight set in the sea and the
wind had gone down, it came on rain.
I had a sou'-wester on, luckily, and I
held it up till I caught about a cupful
of water. I believe that saved my life
for I had swallowed a good deal of
salt water, and my mouth was parch
ed.
I saw nothing that day except pieces
-Of wreck flo at ing ab out. On the
morfrtn^-tTfTTfif^TttcOnd 'Afny—l»*.w th"
smoke of a steamer a long distance
off. She passed on without seeing me.
I saw one or two others during the
day, but they were still too far off.
About the middle of the second day a
shark came rushing along at great
speed. It was not a very large one—
about nine feet long. I was sitting on
the cross piece with my feet under
neath. The shark rushed over one
piece of wood, and I fancy he got the
other arm of the raft in his teeth, be
cause he stopped suddenly. I had a
piece of stick about three feet long
which I picked up, thinking it
might be useful for hoisting my cap on
as a signal. I poked him with this
stick and he cleared off at once and
I never saw anything more of him. That
night a steamer passed quite close to
me. I could see all her lights, but, the
night being dark, she did not observe
me. I hailed her, but she was too far
off to hear me. I dozed off once or
twice, but whenever I dozed I fell into
the water. I didn't feel much incon
venience from the sun. My hat saved
me. On the morning of the tiiird day
I saw a steamer and a sail. I took my
coat off and hoisted it on the stick,
and tried to attract her attention.
She altered her course, and came
straight toward me, and I fancied she
had seen me; but presently she altered
her course, and steered away from me.
I had almost given up hope then.
"Later in the same day another and
much larger shark visited me, but did
not come within the circle of the raf'_.
He waB a tremendous fellow, twenty
feet long at least, and I gave myself up
as lost when I saw him. Nothing
more occurred until evening. The sun
began to get low, and I could not see
anything all round the horizon, and I
made up my mind for another night.
I must have gone off into a longer doze
than usual, for I fell of the raft on my
face; and when I got up again the
French steamer Peiho seemed close on
me, as if it had sprung out of the wat
er. I had nothing to signal with but
my hat. I held it up as high as I
could, and one of the soldiers on
board saw me. A boat was lowered
and an officer and four men came over
to me, and took me on board, where
they treated me very kindly."
The Miller cheese îact'iry at Dale, ten
tfKSS «ÄS
was insand lor $1,300.
H»w Ou of Lincoln'*
lay««» by a Braak H»
From tHo Kttabnn? Diap***
•Th. most impresal? 6 "* t
saw, I think, was at
■ . c. w
iMc
'65," said Detactive
recently. The ÎJetectiv« i 3
of Perkins' Agency,
time Sheriff of OswàfO
The conversation was jà-ought a
by a remark upon Vaf 'ta&preasiv
of the funeral servicesoverGen .Gj
"The sight of a man going to hi
funeral, with the band playing
march, is calculated to impress
he continued. "That is the
know, with a man condemned
by court-martial The case
I spoke happened in Janaa
and the wonderful escape of
demned parties is goiu^thii
never forget. Two Iri
Shea and Michael Do.
sentenced to be shot
There was considerable
of the men. It was in
big bounties, and the
men had enlisted for so;
$1,000 a piece. In a few da;
both missing, and were not
three or four weeks. They v
and their money was abdut
truth of the matter was tha"
no case of willful desertion
had got on a drunk, and h
sobered up enough to real
position. They were badly
and were attended by two pi
can remember the place w
were marched up on a little h:
level plateau, and the soldi
into three sides of a hollow
The two men, accompaiiv
priests, and preceded by
playing the dead maroir
around tha inside of this
stopped nearly in the centei
side of their open coffins
were in earnest conversa*
them, and the minutes roll
they grew into an hour. Twel
came, and Gen. Stevenson ga
for the priests to leave themei
reluctantly they did bo , p:
their leave-taking upon one
and mother as long as they
Everything was at last liado
and it was only a matter of
between the men and eternity,
the General's orderly rode up,
ing his hat and yelling at the t!
his voice. It was a reprive
Lincoln.
"It seems that the priesta ha<
graphed the President the night b
asking for a reprieve, and stating
there were mitigating circumstai
Lincoln, who was always looking
an excuse to save a man's life, rep
edthem. Gen. Stevenson's headq
ters were nearly a mile from whei
were, and the telegraph office wa>
his headquarters. He had leftj
mounted orderly there with instr,
tion to pu8h through any dispati
that come. Nothing came until a f< (
minutes before 12 and the order'
dashed away. He had to go up
steep hill, nearly half a
When he reached the top his
.badly winded, and could
He met a citizen on a go#tfl horse, ai
without any ceremoij#p U i] e (i the
tleman down and mfeinted the fn
animal. Half auflfnute's delay wo
have been tWlast of Messrs. Dou
and Silt... - - Y
"A strange toart of the story .is y
to come. Soine wfee years afterwai
I met an old telegraph operator is Oj
wego. He waii in Washington in tn
winter ol '64 and '6ÎK We^ot to talf
ing over war matters, and I • foun
that he remembered thecals I told yol
about. He was in charge, of the wii
leading to Harper's fertK. He ha.
heard of the two men to b^executed
tnere, through the operafüi They I
had discussed the matter ov«; A the
wires. Consequently he rent
the case well. Upon the niti
the execution, at 10 o'clock^
Eatch reprieving the men^
im to send out. He
desk, and what was i
that he couldn't work ««
storm was in progress ost
else was the matter. At ay
wire would not work. Then
other way of reaching Harpr'^
The dispatch he didn't gtr <
just before 12, but, as it ne jç
good time; but he told me It
experience he would never fori
though it was a pretty close shl
the two Irishmen, and I don't [
they ever forgot the accide
Neither a Fright N«r a
From the San Francisco^Cal.) Exaij
Mrs. Belva Lockwo/i' s neith
tered nor disparagi
wood-cut repre8en
appeared during
There is really nOj
the person an
what might
woman, but he;
y the num^
étions ofherj
e late c a
emblancd^^
he picture. 13
called a ha»d»omo
® uncertain age
is the decliningbeauty
She might
ör 'fibjr -bg fifty. Heryfe.tures
• " tfTG
are of the clear-6uT GreÖTSiv» re ^ -
type; equiline nose, straight fore lie»*» 1
overhanging a pair of sharp, P en ®
ing eyes, a glance into whiff
convinces one that the ladyisendowe
with more than ordinary brain powe
Mantled over her forehead is a roll
handsome wavy, gray hair that
much to the natural beauty of |»*|
face Sbe was attired in a plain £ I
modest traveling dress of black r
There is nothing in her outward]
pearance or expression that w<
fead a casual observer to guess
she belonged to that nwe^;
class of women denominated "strori£?|
minded." In conversation however,
she reveals a phenomen aff orce of char
acter, expressing herseli in conc§»
lawyer-like language, and With a calia
that-settles-it air which amply j
that she is "a woman with a tyfegflj ]
of her own." But yet, withal,she isar I
earth-earthy woman. The reporfejt 1 !
first glance at her features recenil*
discovered the tell-tale traces of pou ]
der.
At Lake George.
While stopping in front of an |
wigwam to look at some art ici
might serve as souvenirs of tl
rondacks, a girl of 10 year
stepped out with the papoose*
house in her arms. "IIow old is_
baby?" asked a young iääj
gazed into the infant's
were so black that they lo?
couple of licorice drops. The\
ed and screeched at her mothr
inka kinka choligog!" And the i
ar replied: "Hari kari mushawaT! 1
Then che girl said: "Four months."
Then the old brave got up and laid
down his pipe, and said to his daugh
ter: "You don't want to be too fresh,
standing out there too much, oryou'll
give the snap dead away. You must.
recollect we're Crow Indians now.
There are some people down the road
who buy newspapers at.our stand in
Forty-seventh 3treet, and you must
notbe recognized; so you'd better stain
your face up a little more, keep in tue
shade and let the mulatto attend to
the Indian part. Now come and ih.d
me the ink; I want to writedown
! New York and order some IndiiVtT
! »am«?«,-., th. Block is 6e .t,„ g tolî
|
-Puck.