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WRECKED ON LAKE ERIE.
*T*!1 ns how rear hair turned white,” said ..ae of the party at the rtreside. 'In .lane, IASI," said the aaan with tbs white hair. "I left mv home ic * h«> for Buffalo- Being in a hurry to reter-i I «<<-■* passage by the steamer _OHM far Tetede. cm a late Hun a»f»* «*>n. Hie ship c irried over fwaeenger* and erew. I most hare slept arximtl* for about two hoar* in s»» feet »h. wWn I was a . aliened bv the ••**< I .4 hnrr . tag footstep* orerhead, and, looting through the rrntilator to the upper d»-fc, I taw two or three sail <wn mooing along dragging a hosepipe, i *r* »Pressed and went forward to *t» |>mmewndn deck, where I heard to•**» Me pda* • hones shore the roiee of <rd Hard atst bean!' end steer her tor the shore P He stop «*red from her coarse «,! brwi'd for Me share, Are miles v ■••'>* hneh to my state room, a» "he! *»i th. ->an ut the other Iwrth. * «g*‘* mbs the cabin I «aw —aha «”» mg tart from tba side. < bad been given to sail **“■■■ aa.i when I again »» *■“’<> the I rward lack lher were > p* ! fuel aroused from • d h. »M-.i or »»ny carrying twytt ail aaxkma to save I i oniwd tip on the held of a stanchion, dock below. fppom r the tom s of many who still asleep, I went m< ind, looking up, bsoken oat near * ,i * pot an difficult to > r •< bat ta all probability the a i ad Hurrying back to '*>» «mt 1*4 k upon which the crowd •** !. ■ a ng. I removed all my >, Sto> g >•*» m night shirt and drawers, ^afcm* my stones and valuables, I i p with my trousers and *i *d dly away on deck where ; <*• i » i * >. r them i f the Htlip should swaps de*n i. lion * limbing up on bs - 4 . •• ii .imii plank, I held on **» : An- ■ t wd. pressing for mim i i a* sway t crept along ». gun « tie to near the wheel on the »v *i,l. i,t ie I dung and watched the ci wd as *hev surged forward from the «»piwtiwg Isms. IVr. * i « arrtdy a scream heard. As that dentes drove them further and , »r I whole columns of peo - .*1 into the water. Hus *ed» aught their wives and children, tr * ng there orgrboanl, jumped tibr them Vamt with babes in their went ale >ut piteously begging «*> a i.e i*» sa • their children, and *> ■ tfcey »nii pushed or jumped into *w*e» held ill. ir infants high above »»< If ter they were drowned be .willed akfkts buoyed them up, • ansae toinntiy trying wi»n •*«»■ nanda tr> nMi the dancing *> > 4 the flamea m tba water ' be Itip grounded at daybreak in * tan i-at of water, a little more ton • to* a Hid* from hore. The •to* 44 <d» •«» the forward part of her *» f,*d of >fpii>wned and drowning peo '*•“? goad »• tmmera struck out * an *W» but from all aide* the * » to wrong wri t. ii*a would clutch *c»d frag them down tt»* dames dr*>»a me off at last. In ** - »*»r <is« tomrtoh ma was a strng *h*>* * • f «f Irowamg restores ■•atflng t* a> k 4bi r Suddenly a 4 ate to twenty hat leered in dhafty by their stoking out of light, ****** *-b other i town. I deter touto h* *« t\ mu toward the stern utd out of the reach of tba <««*«• 4 lie drowning, end them ■ tote ’r *«r the shore. Ifemem *»«# * 1 anto fa jump into the •rikri m * tof. aian learning to •*h * | n* my feat cioeely htohes sen** «trat#M hy my side, and * h« • wedgu to the ■tore,., with i«» «pwe wtda open For ’4 ♦'•••« • ' *** lying on f he bed - **.« .■ yet f h sl hudww in all * ** *» ■ o»g tn tha surface I «< *-<*b a « am, hut tn my 4*d a* fcto hound tightly ■*■*** toe Hi>- I mi-1 -4 mf drawers ■ . n»wa, hail bound i.dv ae tf tied, Turn i i * art* full \ lisin ■'**» hum eah Into Thaae ' - riHril# • torn-.toad am, but, .nee *»«* »** * tha darn until I • '• * ’ ■ ■ Hid * uhnaa. • *ne Strong ‘tid J.okr s-mi.. I me ill. rs who tariff! aiaai ... ■ ** to -a . imaa.4 swimmer. ■*to*»he mhtnnai and uumle <ij | ^tof^ ■ • wraew l^nakrasd in m y 4fe*M Mb# h- w 4 '?w|pi» ofa? “*■ * ••■''■'* ^^Whjjl wifiij %#% wnK'l) '■**** #* * twHigw w^r* ^ijMUSv WM» * life* roulil Wfc* *i vwrVt whti* to ■' "•«•* ** : m*» < mriii wm&l -■*#■■ m |*4MH at Of einnil utl * #*' BliOWi •# *'®0JP f© iHr- flOW. f • • »• .4 aft «4RmR* mM riBBii mv R ■ a» » - d t* at el Uw sky. I 1 sb "C * p*W vit.vt |t< ItiHI ilMw of the ' --rev M» I Ik* MV twin cl til 1*1 * * •* l<VM hovering over the » » f vm tilled with •««;. -mm t-mb ls «*k me I re-ognuid •'W f broth**, aad other friends • ed iw*l w*tt y ears before. Thev "•»*'■! see by name. They pressed vi. ! d ate. telling iue to strng d they wmld tid me—that mv “ •« not dine that 1 could not lie -pared yet. 41 . strength came back to me. • < h< red that 1 must be morn than ‘"•If wa tn the shote. The water could 1 ■" b. over five fe«it deep. I let myself tiwi uid felt the sand under* mo. Mil-d h;, niy spirit friends, v.-lioso mds ami presence were as real to me *• at human touch, I crept on my hands and kaees on the sand for some distance, rising often to breathe. Be coming tr0 weak for this, with my heavy head constantly falling backward, Z sank to the bottom, and drew my body with my arms near and nearer to the shore, rising to the surface as often as necessary. A man was lying on the b> ach. one of the few who ever reached it. When ho saw me feebly struggling, he crept down to the water’s edge, and, reaching out his hands, tried to aid me. I slowly crept up a little way out of the water, but he was so weak that, falling backward, I would lose my hold and sink again. “At last I was lying on the dry sand. How good it seemed to lie there, if only I need never move again. My compan ion spoke roughly yet kindly to me, telling me that it was sure death to re main there, i refused to move, but, being much stronger, he compelled me to get up, and, half supporting me in his arms, dragged me unwillingly along. A farmer met us and almost carried me across the fields to a low two-roomed log cabin. In the smaller room, containing two beds, I was at last permitted to lie down. The long black neck of a bottle was inserted between my lips, and I drank and drank until it was gently removed. The draught wni luvu iuwi “ I alternated between consciousness and unconsciousness, but remembered much that passed about me. A large man with a tall hat, black satin vest, and heavy gold chain came in and lay down upon the other bed. He certainly had not been in the water, and I won dered if he had been saved in a boat. A man in the next room was exclaim ing mournfully: ” ‘Mine Gott! Mine Gott! Mine tnonish is all gone. Mine monish is all gone. Mine wife is gone. Mine son is gone. Oh, mine Gott, mine monish is all gone!’ Again and again that mournful wail went up. Then I heard the tall man call out wrathfully: “ ‘Won’t some one kill that d Dutchman?’ “Then 1 dozed off again. When I awoke, more people were coming in, bearing a woman, and they were saying she was the only woman saved. I heard them say that eight men swam ashore, and twenty were saved in a boat. Only twenty-eight saved out of over 400! Toward evening they put us all in a heavy lumber wagon—on beds of I straw to take us, they said, to ‘Lloyd’s tavern, three miles away.’ Jolting along over a rough road, the pain in my chest and limbs became unbearable, and I remembor nothing more. “Days afterward I awoke from what seemed a long sleep. I found 'myself lving on a bed in a strange room alone. The sound of voices came in through I the open window and from the halls, where people were constantly passing to and fro. They were talking of a great disaster, of dead bodies lying in heaps on the sand waiting to be i fanned, ami of others being buried in a trench. There was something about county lines, of coroner’s quarreling stripping the drowned bodies, and tear ing rings from fingers and ears. Those monotonous voices were forever talking about that one thing. “Well, what if they were dead? The dead were at rest. What had I to do "itli that shipwreck? Why did not some one come to me? What was I i ug here in this strange room? Why " as I so stiff and sore, so full of pain, 0 weak I could not move? I fell asleep 'gam, and when I awoke still the same ires were talking about poor drowned ' 'dies, thieves, coroners and boats; and then came a dim recollection that I had known something about that shipwreck. It all at once came buck to me clear and distinct. Soon afterward a man ame with broth and nourishing food • i which late with a relish while ht mswered my ipiestions. This was Saturday and I had left Buffalo on the i d ay preceding. Lloyd’s tavern was 'ifteen miles from the city of Cleveland m t get up. How could I lie here’ 1 must get into the air. I must g'i home. Home! Why, at homt 1 ilitless they mourned me as dead. 1 had been dead for days to them. J egged the man to bring me soms Iothes. He brought some old gar ments much too large for me, with ar Id block slouched bat, and helped ms • dress, for I was too weak to stanc . ne. Ho then placed me comfortably an easy chair and told me to resi while. At length, feeling rested am i longer, [ arose and moved slowly e runs the room toward the open door I saw a gray-headed old man com / Inward me, poorly dressed, with ar i hat m his hand, and a stubby heart on Ins face. I thought that perhaps m also was one of the shipwrecked. 1 ■poke to him kindly, but he did no reply, and still advanced. I stopped .. stopped also. We stared at eacl oilier 1 spoke again. His lips moved i not a sound left them. I drev i. r a ir«l a chair, and sat down. He sa1 down ilso. staring half fearfully at me (treat Ood! was that myself? Tha « Iota hair-could it be mine? No, i was a wig Some one was playing i oke upon nit 1 put up my band No it would uot come off. I went baek and laid down upon my m.i wrv work, utterly rlialiaariana/l I li t l was driven slowly down to the iieai'li, uid 1 saw all that was left of tin '•Minor afew blackened spars and the eii ined hull. Many people were ex amming, either from curiosity or foi deiititirntion the bodies as tiiey were brought in. There was a long trend u the sand, in which were placed those not identified. It appeared that the trainer had been wrecked on a count} line, and two coroners were then i iarreling over the bodies and claim ing their fees. "My friend helped me out of the wagon, and seated me on a rock closi by a most forlorn and unkempt figure ] must have presented. Two men stooi near where I sat, and one of them spoki of having received another telegran from Cleveland inquiring if the body o the man K-had yet been found. £ cold chill ran down my back. Pro during tho telegram, he read the de scription: Twenty-eight years of ago, five feet nim iuelics in height, weight about one humlre and sixty pounds, fair skin, blue eyes, blacl hair, small hands ami feet, mole on let shoulder. Has the body been found! Hav' it properly prepared for burial, anil send ti i H-, Cleveland. 1 “I was ‘K,’ and they were huntin' for my body to prepare it for burial. My friend came back just then, and I begged to be taken to the hotel at onoe. I must start for home, I said, as soon as possible. Arriving at the house. I sasv a carriage and horses standing be fore door. Four gentlemen came out and agreed to take me with them. “I learned from their conversation that my companions had been sent out from Cleveland to identify the dead and find the living. Each related in cidents connected with the search. They spoke of being out in boats, sometimes all night, dragging for bodies, of seeing t.ie thieves at their villainous work, of the disgraceful quarreling of the c ironers, and of the discomforts of camping out. At length one of the gentlemen said he regretted going back with no u 'ws of the youug man K., v hose friends were so anxious about him.” “ ‘I half believe,’ said he, ‘that he was not on the boat at all. We have seen everybody, dead or alive, who has been found, and no one answering his description is discovered.’ “ ‘Where is his description? asked another. “ ‘I have it. No, not here. I remem ber, I gave it to the coroners. He was, as I recollect the description, a man about 28, fair skin, blue eyes, and black hair. It is hard to go back with no in formation. By the way, strager, did you see any one answering that de scription ?’ “ ‘Would you be willing to tako the body without any preparation for burial ?’ I asked. “ ‘Why, of course. Any way we could get it.’ “ ‘Well, then,’ said I, ‘drop me at H’s house.’ “A shout went up from the carriage. A few days later, after enjoying the de lightful experience of being kissed and cried over and welcomed back from tha dead, I lighted a cigar, seated myself comfortably, and had the novel experi ence of reading my own obituary, and a good orthodox obituary it was, too.” A Beverage Not Found in Idaho. [Bismarck Tribune.] A few days ago a stranger was eating in an Idaho hotel, and beckoning a waiter to him said: “Bring me a glass of water.” “Sir?” And the nonplussed waiter looked at him curiously. “Bring me a glass of water.” The waiter went out into the kitchen and soon returned and said: “Beg pardon, stranger, but that last order of yours has slipped my memory. What is it you want?” “I—want—a—glass—of—water! Do you understand that ?” A bright idea struck the waiter and he rushed out to the bar. The bar keeper looked over the labels on every bottle in the house, shook liis head anil said there wasn’t a drop in stook. The waiter returned to the gentleman and reported, whereupon the latter roared out: “You infernal idot, don’t you under stand plain English ? I want a glass of water—water to drink—and I want it quick.” In desperation the waiter hunted lip the proprietor and told him the story. The landlord looked puzzled, and him self entered the dining-room and ap proached the stranger and said : “Excuse me, sir, but my waiter is a l.’lll . 1_t .11 _• . T • a&vvxv uuiu uv/oniu^. jl will 1/Un.U your order.” “I ordered a glass of water—nothing but straight water.” “I’m sorry,” replied the landlord, “but I can’t accommodate you. There is so little call for those foreign drinks here that it doesn’t pay to keep ’em. We’ve got some prime Kentucky whisky in the bar, if you can get along on that.” The stranger finished his meal in silence. Horace Greeley’s Boyhood. [Ben: Perley Poore’s Reminiscences.] Horaoe Greeley’s personal appearanoe was always a subject of remark from his boyhood. Eollin C. Mallary, a mem ber of congress from Vermont, who was an able champion of the American sys tem, used to narrate a visit of his to the printing office of a country newspaper at Poultney, Vt., his place of residence. His attention was attracted to a young compositor, who was rather awkwardly "sticking types,” and who, though full grown, was evidently the youngest ap prentice in the office. His legs ran a good deal more than “a feet” through his pantaloons, the sleeves of his coat scarcely reached below his elbows, his hair was very white and flaxen, and lie was, on the whole, in the aggregate, taken separately and together, the greenest looking specimen of humanity we ever looked at, and this is saying a i good deal, for “we keeps a looking glass.” “That boy,” said Mr. Mallary, “will make a remarkable man; I can’t hold an argument with him on Masonry or anything else connected with poli tics. As Mr. M. was considered one of the ablest men in congress, his remark i uuseu mu some surprise; ana we not only “made a note of it,” but took an other look at tlio “devil” (printer's we mean), and could not but trace in the expansive forehead “a mind formed in nature's finest mould and wrought for immortality.” It was years afterwards that we became aware of the fact that that boy was Horace Greeley. On the eve of Jo vmg America after her successful tonr Mme. Sarah Bern hardt received the visit of a not less enthusiastic than wealthy merchant oi Chicago, who offered to buy up all the ■stalls, seats and boxes of the theatre if the great artist would give but one more performance of “Frou-Frou.” As her departure would not admit of any delay, Sarah Bernhardt declined the offer of her admirer, but said: “Come to Paris, and I promise you to play ‘Frou-Frou’ just to please you.” On Thursday last the merchant of Chicago went to see the actress, guessing that Mme. Bernhardt had not forgotten her promise. He guessed rightly. “Frou i Frou” was immediately announced, and | the Chicago merchant not only took as i many boxes and stalls as were required for the accommodation of his numer ous friends and acquaintances, but sent , to Sarah a bouquet of three roses. They were kept together by a girdle ol : huge diamonds. A BLUE-BLOOD RANCHMAN. What the Marquis of Mores Has Done Amoif the Cowboys of Mon tana. The Marquis de Mores, ranshman. arrived in this city from his headquar ters in Little Missouri, Montana, on Saturday. The marquis, it will be re membered, had a great deal of trouble with the cowboys in the neighborhood, who threatened him, so that for two weeks he was in danger of his life every time he ventured from his home. He is a very pleasant spoken gentle man. His actions are graceful, and his tall, erect and supple form is suggestive of great strength. He can scarcely be more than 26 years old. All his actions are suggestive of a thorough military training. The marquis, until his ar rival in this country, was a captain in the French army and a member of the staff of the late Comte de Paris. “Yes,“ said he to a reporter of The World yesterday, throwing himself in an easy attitude, “my life has not been lived upon a bed of roses since I came to cast my fortunes with the citizens of this country. But don’t ask me any n Is /-vis 4- TT boys; they are all over now and I be lieve I can live in peace in the future. All the details of that fight have been telegraphed, and everybody who reads the daily papers knows about it.” The marquis, however, observed that the quarrel arose from the fact that he had refused to purchase the land, which certain persons in this city had offered for sale, thinking that he was a well plumed bird that ought to be plucked and could be easily swindled. The land did not belong to them, which fact, fortunately, was discovered before the sale was consummated. In revenge, the dishonest speculators vowed that they would make it hot for him. The marquis purchased a large tract of land in Montana, which took in the three principal trails through which the cat tle are driven to the east, south and southwest. The cowboys in the neighborhood were set against the marquis by agents of the New York people and began tc shoot the cattle and menace the herd ers. Appeals to the sheriff proved useless and finding himself in a bad fix the marquis determined to stop the trouble himself. Taking a horse and a trusty herder he rode out to the spot where the roughs were assembled. On the road they met the ringleader who was killed by the unerring bullet of the marquis before he could raise his rifle to his shoulder, another member of the gang was badly wounded, while the rest turned their horses and rode away. The marquis was very modest in tell mg ms story, remarking: "i nave been brought up in the army and have been trained to lead my men. I don’t ask a man to go to a place where I would not go myself. I am very popular now,” he smilingly added, as if to say that his marksmanship had instilled respect into the minds of the bloodthirsty herders. “I came to this country,” he con tinued, “not quite a year ago, and de termined to invest my money to the best advantage. I saw a good opening in the northwest. My oapital was about $1,000,000. Last April I pitched my tent on the spot where Little Mis souri City now stands. I bought about 50,000 acres of land and 10,000 head of cattle. My object was to prove that it was far more profitable to slaughter cattle on the range than to ship them to Chicago. The cattle shrink about 12 per cent, while in transit, and this amount is saved by killing them at home. At present I supply all the towns along the Northern Pacific rail road with dressed beef. I have estab lished eight depots, where the beef is packed in ice-houses until sold. “The country along the line of that road is very fine, specially adapted for stock-raising. The grass is one of the finest quality and the many sheltered canyons have an abundant supply of grass all the year round. I own a good deal of land and to encour age emigration I give each settler who locates upon the government land forty acres of land broken in with crops sown upon it, so that he gets a start for the first year and has a crop as soon as he reaches there. In this way I benefit the poor and myself both. Several small towns which have sprung up since my arrival have given large tracts of land to me as a token of apprecia tion. Talking of the Northern Pacific railroad, things go on the same as be fore the failure of Mr. Villard, who, I must say, is more thought of now in our section of the country than during his supremacy. He would receive a greater welcome now if he visited the northwest than he did in his memorable trip. ” “Do you like the life in the so-called wilderness?” asked the writer. “\es, indeed; I take a great interest in the future of the west and I ride over my ranches and personally super intend my men. I have unusual good luck and have raised some very fine cattle. Before long some of my wealth v friends in Prance will come over to build tanneries, glue factories and horn works, and so establish interests that. will tend to a speedy development of the country. Aly neighbors are all wealthy American ranchers, with inter ests as large if not larger than mine. We all work together and are on the best of terms. I have demonstrated that beef gets heavier in the winter than during the summer, when the grass covers the prairies, and several large stock-breeders have been con vinced that I am right.” Ihe marquis gave a glowing account of many immigrants who had prosperous houses, all the result of a single year's labors. He intends to raise sheep on a grand scale this year and is ready to invest $1,000,000 more. Unlike the many noblemen who have visited our shores, he is an enthusiastic worker, who ostracizes himself voluntarily from the social world to fulfill his mission as other men do. Christian Advocate: Neither wealth, nor intelligence, nor culture, nor society can purchase exemption from the great law of self-denial. Philadelphia Ledger: Knowledge, like the blood, is only healthy while in brisk circulation. SILKS! SILKS! SILKS! HALL’S are now opening their Stoch of SUMMER SLLICS, Etc., Consisting in part of ONE LOT STRIPES at 50c. VERY CHEAP. \ “ “ “ 65c. Worth 75c. , “ CHECKS “ 78c. Cheap at 90c. i\ special Joargain is our SOLID COLOR SILK at 75c. These Goods are well worth 85c One lot of SOFT HEAVY SOLID COLOR SILKS, AT $1.00. Sold last year for $1.25. One lot EXTRA HEAVY SILKS at $1.25. Sold last year at $1.50. BLACK SILKS. In all grades and qualities. GOOD BLACK SILKS at 75c. and 85c. We have Black Silks that we will Guarantee Not to Cut in Wearing, at $1.00, $1.25, $1.35 and upward. COLORED AND BLACK RHADAMES AND SATIN SURAHS. LEVIS S. HALL, 26 South Second St., Philadelphia. CARPETS! FURNITURE! Call and examine the stock of Furniture and Carpetings, At our new warerooms, 1022 and 1024 Market Street, Philadelphia. G. IB. SCOTT &c GO. Late of Second Street, but entirely removed. mar 13-3m a 3mf THOMAS M. LOCKE. C. C STEWART 939 CARPETS. 939 . All Kinds of Carpets, Oil Cloths, Mattings, Window Shades, Rugs, etc., etc. Parties furnishing will do well to call on us and examine our goods before buying. Special inducements to cash buyers. We respectfully solic it a share of patronage from our New Jersey friends. New Store. LOCKE & STEWART, New Stock. 939 MARKET ST., PHILADELPHIA, (second d"< r ! • >. Tenth St.) mar 6-3ms3mf ^ GRAHAM’S CARPET STORE. Carpets for Spring 1884 A specialty in Brussels, Superfine Ingrain, Hall and Stair Carpets, Shading, Door Mats and everything pertaining to a Carpet Store. Please call and examine goods. J. R. GRAHAM, No. 40 East Commerce Street, feb 28-3m‘ | CLAYPOOLE a PARSONS. AND MANUFACTURERS OF Oyster Dredges! . WILL MAKE Oyster Dredges at Ten Cents per pound, And give a guarantee of perfect satisfaction. All dredges will be made by David Clay POOijE, the experienced dredge maker, who will give his whole attention to that branch of business. Wm. H. Parsons will attend to the vessel building. The complete success that he has had in the past, will warrant us in assuring all that we can give perfect satisfaction in the line of building oyster boats in the future. CLAYPOOLE & PARSONS, nov 15-3m Cedarville, N. J.