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Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, February 25, 1892, Image 2

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn87080287/1892-02-25/ed-1/seq-2/

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Ere the race of tbe nprintir wan ran,
Or violets begun to die,
Neath the kirn* of the golden sun
And the smile of the azure sky.
There was nevt.* the sound of a sigh
At our boat pushed off the sand,
In the heart of the day,
When we sailed away—
Away to a fair, fa?: land.
We sailed through the mid day heat
And the long, still afternoon;
Strange voices, siren sweet,
Crooned over a low, weird tune,
the rise of the crescent moon.
By the breezes our bark was funned;
Aad the starlight's gleam
•Sjned a fitful dream
As we sailed to that fair, far land.
And still we are sailing on,
Though the skies are no longer fair,
Though summer is past and gone,
And chill is the autumn air,—
We are sailing wo know not where;
But, led by an unseen hand,
We shall rest one day
In the twilight's gray,
On the shores of that fair, far land.
—[May Lennox, in Boston Transcript.
Everyone that knows anything about
coal mines knows that the groat Saltham
vit lies just on the edge of the city of
Whitehaven, uud extends thouce far
under the sea.
In the summer of 18 —two ladies came
to Whitehaven for the purpose of es
tablishing their right to shares in this
pit—a right which they hud recently dis
covered. They wore a mother and
her daughter, both of them beautiful and
cultured women, and as they had
brought letters of introduetiou to the
reotor they were soon recognized as be
longing to ono of tha most desirable
"sets ' of that old, aristocratic city.
Indeed, Mary Allonby was a universal i
favorite, and before the first winter was ,
over it was genoraily understood that ,
she was tho promised wife of the hand- (
some Gerald Peel, a young man of very ,
good family and of great promise, lie
was the head "Viewer'' of the Saltham
pit, and knew well tho richness and ex
cellence of its coal seams. Now, tho
Viewer of a largo English cool mine is a
gentleman; u man of great courage,
forethought and lino engineering skill.
He has a large salary, lives in good
■tyle, and exorcises a great power, not
only over tho under-viewers, but also in
the ontire management of the pit.
1 he mairiage had been fixed for June,
and tho preparations were all made. Mrs.
Allonby was so certain of her rights
being settled by that date, that she had ,
instructed her lawyor to mako over a cor- <
tain portion of them to her daughter as a |
wedding present. One evening Gerald
was taking tea with them, and from the
pleasant room happy laughter and happy
voices went floating outward iuto tho
shady deptliß of tho shrubbory.
Among this shrubbery a man was
lurking—a man with ' dirty, ragged
clothing and a face passion-smitten and
every way evil; and whonevor Mrs. Al
lonby s voice or Mary's laugh caught his
ear, its expression was almost terrible.
"I am nothing to them now!" ho mut
tered. "But, wo shall boo! We shall
Ho lingered in the thick shrubbory un
til tho moon rose, and ho saw Gerald
wrap Mary in her little white hood and
cloak, and take her into tho garden.
Then he crept nearer the house and
watched Mrs. Allonby lift a candle and
go up stairs into a room that fronted two
ways, one of thorn toward a gable which
was thickly matted with an old ivy vine.
Tho windows were open on thut side.and
he cautiously ascended. When he
reached the uppor floors Mrs. Alloubv
was seated before an old-fashioned sec
retary, tying up some papers. Ho put
his hand upon her shoulder, forced her
to sit still, and uttered but one word:
She did uot faint, nor scream, nor oven
attempt to rise; but gathoring together
all her senses and energies, she lookod
tho man earnestly in the faco, and said,
in a voice where tenderness and anger
strove for the mastery;
"Kichard Allonby!"
es, madam. Lock your door and
shut your windows. 1 have something to
say to you."
"Not hero, Kichard! Not here, for
Mary's sake!"
"Why not? Am I not your husband?
Ah, ah! You can't got over that, you
•ee" *
"God help mo! No."
Sho rose mechanically, locked the door,
shut out the sweet evening air, pulled
down the bl.uds, and then, motioning
toward a sofa, sat down.
"Oh no, my lady. I won't put you 1
to thut degradation. You are a lady
you know," and then in a lower voice':
"And now I want you to givo me those I
baltham papers. 1 know all about thorn."
Kichard, you havo robbed mo ot - my I
own fortuno, and of the peace and love
of my youth. } ou killed my father with
the shame you brought on him. You
ba\e torced mo to leave the place where
my family havo dwelt for centuries, and
to come a stranger to this strange north
country. Do have pity now on me and
on your own child. For heaven s sake
• paro her the disgraoc und misery of
knowing you."
You never told hor, then?"
'' N "' no! She thinks you dead—
and oh, Kichard! she is going to bo mar
I know that, too. Givo me the papers.
Ihuve been long enough here."
"Kichard! Kichard! kill me, if you
like, but do Mary no further wrong."
like you well enough to wish to look at
you occasionally. Give mo the papers,
or 1 shall ring the bell und order my sup
per. You know I'm master here, it 1 suv
to. Seo, I'll give you five minutes to
decide. I don't want you to say I forced
them from you."
In great emergencies the mind acts
rapidly. Mrs. Allonby rovicwed her
whole position, and made her decision.
She walked back to the secretary, and
taking from a drawer a bundle of papers
and u little gold chain holding a pearl
cross and a couple of rings, came toward
her husband.
" I his is to be our last meeting, Kich
ard, and you must promise it upon that
chain and those rings; you know them—
they were your mother's."
Kichard Allonby put then aside ner
vously. If there was any memory that
made his soul shiver und sob, it wus thut
of the gentle mother whose heart he
had broken.
"I won't touch those things," he suid;
"give me the papers."
"Not unless you do whut I say."
Kichard saw his wife's courage rising,
aud he knew well that when timid women
ure angered to a point of resistance, such
anger is not to be defied; so he said
*•1 will do as you wish."
lie took the papers, and immediately
departed, lie had another interview on
hand that night. He waited until he saw
Herald enter his own handsome dwelling;
then he scaled the great brick walls, and
watched his further movements. Ho
went, as Kichard expected, to his office,
looked over the reports of the under
viewers, and then lit a soger and sat
down to smoke. There was a low, open
window, opening on a stone balcony, and
when Gerald rose for something he
wanted, Kichard boldly entered the
room, and was standing before his chair
when he turned to it.
Gerald's first thought was: ''There is
something wrong at the pit,'' and lie said,
"Now, my man, what's wrong ? "
"I am not your man, Gerald Peel. I
propose, indeed, to be your father-in
Then Gerald knew that he had either to
deal with a lunatic or a great sorrow, and
he closed the window, and said:
"Sit down, sir, and say what you have
jot to say."
Kichard did not spare himself, lie
•Id all: How he had killed his mother
with sorrow, and ruined his wife, forged
his friend's uaine, and boen forgiven,
and then robbed a bank and been trans
ported for fourteen years for it. He
said he had come hack to England
eighteen months ago, but hud only just
found his wife. Didn't want to make
trouble, "especially as Mary was going
to marry so well, and thought Gerald had
better give him some money and let him
go to America. "
Gerald heard all in silence: then tak
ing out his purse, countod out twenty
"Will that pay pou to hold your
"Make it fifty."
Gerald made it fifty, and said:
"Now go. If you really go to i
America, you may write every year for |
the same; but don't annoy your wife ad 1
daughter. Lot mo stand between them
and you.''
The calm unselfishness and the air of
authority which was partly natural to
Gerald and partly acquired by the neces- j
sity of his position, quite cowed the
wretchod man. He slunk out into the ,
darkness; and Gerald thought out the |
new aspect of his position.
He must hurry forward his marriage. :
Mary was not to blame; but if his family '
knew, there would be no end of trouble. j
And these poor women! Surely they
needed .his protection, with this villain
dogging their footsteps.
The noxt morning he received another j
heavy blow. Mrs. Allonby told him that i
her secretary had been robbed of her |
Salthnm papers and somo jewelry, and
that the police had been notified. He
saw at once how the affair lay. Ho knew
who was the thief, and he suspected Mrs.
Allonby know also. Hut he had deter
mined not to blaine her too much. He
estimated the horror of her positiou, and
boldly faced the disappointment that had
fallen on all the glory of his love. Hut,
I at any rate, Mary was the same, and it
was Mary he was going to marry. Ho
mude some excuse for hurrying forward
matters, and in spite of the suggestions
of his friends that the missing papers
ought to be found first, ho murried Mary
Allonby oarly in June.
Perhaps no wife was ever happier. As
the years wont by, and lovely boys and
girls began to patter about the halls and
gardens of l'eel Place, and us she herself
grew in wifely grace, and in her hus
band's love, she acknowledged contin
ually the blessing of her lot. Only one
thing troubled her—hor mother's health.
Though in the prime of life, she was
gradually sinking under a nervous com
plaint that defied medical skill. Gerald,
who guessod the cause, tried often to win
her confidence, but sho ropolied all his
Thus more than five years passed
away. One night, about New Year's,
the rector was sitting among his house
hold, full of the joy and spirit of the
time. Suddenly he was called away
from them, and found waiting for him a
lady in the wildest terror and distress,
whom ho easily recognized as Mrs. Al
"Oh, sir!" she cried; "there is no
time for words—come with me instantly
to Saltham pit! 1 will explatn all as we
There is something so compelling in a
great sorrow, that lie cloaked himself
silently und followed her into a waiting
carriago. As it drove through the nar
row, black streets, sho told him the out
lines of her sad story.
"And this villain, who has been tor
turing you to death for five years, is
you say "
"is my husband, and he is lying, dy
ing, in the pit. A largo mass of coal
fell on him this afternoon, and he can't
be moved. What could I do?" she cried,
pitifully. "How could I tell Gerald and
Mary of the horror of such a connection?
Oh, my friend, some one must speak to
him—some one must pray with him -and
1 must see the end of him, but I dare not
go alone."
Indeed, even the rector turned sick
and giddy when he saw the road tliey
must take. The shaft of Saltham is
close to the sea, absolutely in the shinglo,
and nearly nine hundred feet deep. The
banksman expressed no surprise at Buch
visitors, and, us they refused to change
their clothing, gave them each a large
overall, and putting them into the huge
basket, let thein down." The night re
lays were coming up, and a basketof five
men, their candies gleuming in the dark
übyss, passed them on the way.
In a few minutes they touched the
I ground, and a craggy, dark, uneven de
scent led them to tbe interior of the pit.
The path was high enough to allow them
to ftllow their guide in an upright pos
ition. After going one thousand yards
in a straight line under the sea they came
to a little opening, where the dying man
lay. The space was nurrow and hot,and
dimly lit by a bit of candle stuck aguinst
the coal wall in u piece of clay; und
there were some men yet at work about
lie was almost dead, but his eyes
gleamed gratefully upon the miserable,
weeping wife, who had at last braved all
to come and close his eyes. And, in
credible as it may seem, at this hour
Louisa Allonby forgot all else but her
early love for this wreck of humanity,
I and wiped the death-dump from his
brow with loving hands, and whispered
words of forgiveness and tenderness.
Uichard was gentle enough now. In
those few hours of agony he learned
more than all his wild life hud taught
him. Humble and penitent he listened
eagerly to tho last prayer he was ever
to hear, and then whispered:
"Wife—wife, forgive me—don't tell
Mary--the papers nr.- in mv breast."
What more he said was between God
and his own soul, and death gradually
composed the once hundsome face into
such solemn curves and such sharp-cut
lines as if they were to last forever.
At length poor Louisa rose, und the
rector w ;s about to lead her away, when
owe of the men who had been busy try
ing to the last to relieve the poor ininsvii
■topped forward and said gently:
•'Mother, I a<u here too. ''
Yes, it was Gerald Peel; he had been
notified ut once of the accident, and
none had worked harder for the relief of
the sufferer. But ho went home with the
rector and Mrs. Allonby now, and the
tulk ho had with her did her what no
physician could have done. She learnt
now that Gerald hud not only married
Mary with a full knowledge of all, but
that he hud been bribing the man and
watching continually his movements, in
order to prevent his annoying Mary or
: her mother.
"It has been a dreadful watch," he
! soid, wearily and solemnly; "but a little
1 confidence on your part, mother, might
j have saved us both much suffering."
And for answer she put the Saltham
' papers in his hands, and suid:
"They are well yours. I never want
! to see them again, Gerald. You have
been very good to me."
Those men were heroes who stormed
the Malakoff and lit their cigars in the
trenches before Vicksburg, but private
life has heroes quite us great, and I think
that Gerald Peel's five-years' patience,
prudence and unselfish burden-bearing
may muke him the brother-knight even of
the peerless Bayard.—[The Ledger.
Counterfeit Milk.
A dairyman called at the office of Dr.
J. E. Sullivan, City Milk Inspector,
yesterday, und informed him thut a
certain individual was going about umong
the dairymen offering to sell a recipe or
prescription by which a good articlo of
milk could be utude artificially by the
use of various drugs,chemicals, etc. Dr.
Sullivan suys that the idea of makiug
milk in this way is not a new one, as
several prescriptions for the purpose
have been known to chemists for years,
but none have been able to produce an
article that could not be readily detected
us bogus milk, eveu bv amateur milk
drinkers. So far as known, the enter
prising inventor has not been able to
make a sale to any St. Louis dairyman,
and it is evident that some of them
know too well how to produce an inferior
articlo of milk without patronizing any
inventor in that line. Dr. Sullivan
states that the milk supply is rather
short now on account of the protracted
cold weather and the high price of feed.
On occasions of a short supply the
| dairymen resort to water and coloring to
keep up the quantity for their trade, and
the quality of the milk is running quite
low. One of the worst features the Milk
Inspector has to contend with is that of
colored milk. "The people," says Dr.
Sullivan, "are in some measure re
sponsible for this, as they demand milk
of a rich yellow color. This color is
naturally produced only by grass, and
as no cows feed upon grass at this season
of the year its absence is excusable, but
the dairyman in order to please his cus
tomers colors the milk to suit their
tastes. When vegetable coloring is
used the effect is not injurious, but some
of the dairymen use diamond dyes and
other substances which are injurious."
—[St. Louis Globe-Democrat.
Nicknames of Great Men.
Great men's nicknames all remind us,
we might be well known to fame und
departing leave behind us proofs that wo
were "in the game." The following
are some of the terms of affection given
to a fow of the more prominent leaders:
Black Dan—Daniel Webster,
Black Jack—John A. Logan.
Little Phil—Philip Sheridan.
The Silent Man —11. S. Grant.
Old Hickory—Andrew Jackson.
The Honest Man -James Monroe.
Poor liichard- Benjamin Franklin.
The Railsplittor —Abraham Lincoln.
The Little Giant —Stephen A. Doug-
Wizard of the North—Sir Walter
I Old Rough and Ready—Zachary
Father of Greenbacks —Salmon P.
Old Man Eloquent—John Quincy
Goldsmith of America—Washington
Silver Tongued Orator—Weiidoll Phil
j lips.
j Grand Old Man —William Ewart Glad
j stone.
The Poet of Nature—William Cullen
Schoolmaster of our Republic—Noab
Webster.—[Mail and Express.
The Grizzly Will Run.
The average grizzly, says Mr.
Koosevolt in the New York Sun, has hut
i one idea when he sees a man, and that
i is to get away; it will run as quickly as
a rabbit. Even when wounded a great
; many bears absolutely refuse to light,
I seeking refuge only in flight. Never
| theless, there are plenty of grizzlies that
will tight when cornered, and there aro
1 a very few which will take the offensive
; themselves without any particular pro
Personally 1 have never been charged
but once, and this was by a grizzly
which 1 had twice wounded and had
approached to within forty yards of,
late one evening when I had strolled
away from camp more with the hope of
| knocking oft* the head of a grouso than
with the expectation of seeing any larger
' game. This hear came at me most
resolutely, although one of my shots
| nicked the point of his heart and
although one of four bullets which I put
into him would have ultimately proved
| All of the other bears I have killed
j started to run, or fell at the first fire, so
that they hud no chance of showing
1 fight. It is, however, very unsafe for
n man to generalize in uny kind of
( shooting, and particularly in bear shoot
' ing, merely from his own experience.
I Thus, I know one gentleman, an officer
of the I'nited States army, who hus
killed six grizzlies, three of them
charging him before they were wounded
or even fired ut. The incidents of the
three charges were curiously alike; that
is, he stumbled on the bear in each case
at tolerably close quarters, at from ten
to twenty yards away from him, and
each time the instant the animal saw
him it galloped toward him like a loco
motive, only to be rolled over by a
well-placed rifle ball.
| The grizzly is very tenacious of life,
j and so great are his vitality and
i pugnacity that a fighting bear will con
tinue charging when its body is fairly
riddled with bullets. A shot in the
brain or spice will of course bring one
down in its tracks, but even a bullet
through the heart will not prevent an
enraged grizzly from making good its
charge at close quarters.
Brocaded silk for a party dress is very
Nothing Mean About Her—Let By
gones be Bygones—A Misconcep
tion—He tSingeth Not, Etc., Etc.
A Maine woman sent to the house of
her nearest neighbor and requested the
loan of a new pair of scissors. The
neighbor was using them, and sent back
word accordingly. The would-be bor
rower was not to be rebuffed so easily,
and presently her little girl appeared the
second time to say:
"Mother wants to know if you will
lend her a quarter to buy a pair of scis
sors with?"
Guest (at restaurant) —Hello, Bingley,
I never expected to see you following
this business. The last time I mot you,
Bingley, you had just begun the publica
tion of "The Guide to Wealth" hadn't
Dignified Waiter (with a dreamy, far
awoy gaze)— Roast beef hamandeggsroast
pork short ribs beef calves liver an d fried
chicken.—[Chicago Tribune.
Haughty Lady (who has purchased a
stamp)— Must I put it on myself?
Stamp Clerk—Not necessarily. It
will probably accomplish more if you j
put it on the letter.
Tom—You say you expect to win Miss
Fortune, but haven't begun to make
love to her yet ?
Jack—Yes; keep your mind easy; I'm
running as a dark horse.
Mr. Tyrer—Horde never visits us now.
Mrs. Tyrer—No; it is rather singular, j
Mr. Tyrer—lt is. The last time he ;
was here I did my best to entertain him. !
Bat with him two solid hours relating to j
him tho smart sayings of our children
and you helped to entertain him, too.
Mrs. Tyrer—Yes, I showed him the
baby and told all about her cute ways,
and oven tried to get her to talk to him.
Mr. Tyrer—l can't understand why he
keeps away.—[New York Press.
Old Henpeck—Nonsense! The idea of
j talking about marriage! You and my
daughter haven't been engaged over six
Young Mau—Do you believe in long
engagements, sir?
Ola Henpeck—Certainly, my young
friend, certainly. The longer the en
gagement the shorter tho marriage.—
[New York Weekly.
"I don't know about these silver wed
dings," said Mr. Easy, doubtfully.
"What's the matter with them?"
"We had ours lust week, un*d now my
wife is out every day tramping around the
stores finding out what the presents cost."
—[Now York Press.
Lipsley—You know those cigars Miss
Beacon sent me for Christmas?
Lipsley Well, I gave a lot to my
friends, and now 1 haven't any left.
Lapsley—What, cigars?
I Lipsley—No, friends.—[Harvard Lam
"I never withhold anything from my
wife. I tell her every night all that I
have done during tho day."
"And do you tell her every day what
you have done during the night? "
"Well, that's different."—[New York
Aunty—Why don't you stay at home
some times and play with your sis
Little Boy—Oh, I do—often.
"Wen some boy wants t' lick me."—
[Good News.
She (sobbing)— Poor little F— F—Fido
is d—d—dead.
He (calmly)— Well, my dear, lhat dog
never did like mo. 1 can't say that lam
altogether sorry.
She—N—no, neither am I. I've got
you left, and besides, black is awfully
becoming to me.
Wife—You've beon drinking again.
Husband—Can't help it, m'dear—make
mo alio happy, m'dear.
"Huh! Makes you happy, eh? I'd like
to kuow why."
"Be(hic)cause I she two of you, in'
dear."—[New York Weekly.
He—You can always tell when a
woman has told all she knows about u
piece of neighborhood gossip.
He—She concludes with: "i should be
glad to tell you ull about it, but my lips
are sealed."
Aunty—Where is that pretty doll you
hud when I wus here lust ?
Little Girl —It s gone—died of the
"1 he grip, eh ! '
"Yes'm—Baby's grip."
Mother (wearily)—lt's perfectly abom
inable! With all my watching 1 can't
keep Tommy clean. He's the dirtiest
boy alive.
Father (proudly)— That's so. He's no
dude.—[Good News.
"I can't afford the money to buy you
a sealskin sacque."
"Then give mo some to buy a plush
"I won't have my wife going around
in an imitation sacque."
I cannot sing the old songs
I sang a while ago,
For if 1 do tho other guests
Quickly get up and go.
She married a poet,
And proudly I say,
As her pa's worth a million,
She has three meals a day.
Sho—Did a wicked man tour your
clothes that way, George, dear?
He—No, dearest, it was the wicket
gate we were leaning on last night.
Teacher—What does the proverb say
about those who live in glass houses ?
Small Boy—Pull down the blinds.
Bingle—Well, old boy, how are you
getting along ? Business improving any?
Jingle (struggling merchant) —A little.
I've succeeded in reducing expenses
about fifteen dollars a week.
"That's encouraging. How did you
do it?
"Married my typewriter."
"There go the Spicer Wilcoxes,
Mamma! I'm told they're dying to know
us. Hadn't we better call? "
"Certainly not, dear. If they're dying
to know us they're not worth knowing.
The only people worth our knowing are
tho people who don't want to know us?"
Mamma—Willie what are you doing
with that thermometer?
Willie—l'm bringing it into the house.
It's too cold a place for it out here.
She (gazing upward at the old familiar
orb) —How provoking it is!
He—Who, what?
"That I can never, never see the other
side of that moon."—[Boston Herald.
Popular Doctoring in Russia.
Slovo of Kiev reports some curious in
stances of popular doctoring in south
Russia. The rural dentist places his
patient upon u little stool and examines
him. If ail upper tooth is to be pulled
he performs tho operation with a simple
pair of tongs like that used by cobblers.
But if a lower tooth is to be extracted
the operation is more complicated. The
tooth is tied very skilfully with a violin
string. The other end of the string is
fastened to a hook in tho ceiling. Then
tho stool is removed with a jerk from be
neath the patient, who falls, his tooth re
maining on tho string, sometimes with
the flesh around it.
Intermittent fever is cured either by
live frogß or by fright. When tho sick
ness breaks out the patient is mude to
carry about him as many live frogs as
cuu be put in his clothes. I fthat treat
ment does not help the patient his fellow
villagers try to frighten him. The most
popular method of doing that is known
by the name of Likaniyo. A crowd of
men and women come into the house and
raise a quarrel with the putient. They
treat him to tho loudeßt and most offen
sive terms of reproach. That naturally
irritutes him, and he answers in similar
term". Tho crowd takes offence at his
rude expressions and resolves to lynch
him. A rope is put around his nook and
he is dragged about until he is insensible
on account of fright.
Lovugc for the Gfip.
"That's a had cold you've got," said
a benevolent-looking old gentleman to a
young fellow he had mot casually.
"Worst I ever had," answered the
young man.
"Try a pinch of this," urged tho other,
fishing in his vest pockot for a little box.
There was a lino powder in it, and he
offered it invitingly. "It is no 'kill-or
cure' thing. See how it goes."
The young man snuffed a tiny pinch
up his nose. In five minutes he felt
relieved. "That's wonderful," he said.
"If you've got a monopoly of that it's
tho sumo as a fortune to you."
The old man smiled indulgently.
"This is one of tho commonest of herbs,"
said he. "It is so cheap that it can be
bought by tho ton if you want that much.
It cured me of tho grip, and I believe it
is tho best thing going."
"What do you call it?"
"German lovage. All the druggists
have it. For a dime you can a box of it
powdered, large enough to cure a whole
tamily of the grip. It is so common that
its value has been overlooked. You try
it and you tell all your friends. German
lovago is a sure cure for the grip."—
New York Times.
Cloves Are Flowers.
Cloves are the unopened flower of a
small evergreen tree that re.sorables in
appearance the laurel or the bay. It is
a native of the Malacca or Spice Islands,
but has been curried to all the warmer
parts of the world, and it is now culti
vated in tho tropical regions of America.
The flowers are small in size and grow
in large numbers in clusters to tho very
end of tho brunches. The cloves we
use are the flowers gathered before they
are open and while they are still green.
After being gathered they are smoked
by a wood tire and then dried in the sun.
Each clove consists of two parts of a
round head, which are the four petals or
leaves of the flower rolled up, inclosing
u number of smull stalks or fllaments;
the other part of the clove is terminated
with four points, and is, in fact, the flow
er cup of tho unripe seed vessel. All
these parts may bo distinctly seen if a
few cloves are soaked for a short time
in hot water, when the leaves of the flow
ers soften and unroll. - [Boston Commer
Adulterating Tea.
Teas are not udulteruted by inter
mingling the leaves of other plants, as
the leaves of the tea plant itself, if
quality is not considered, can be gathered
in unlimited quantities. Nor are leaves
that have been already stooped ever
mixed with fresh tea to be sold again, it
being cheaper to pick tho fresh loaves.
Adulterants aro only used to give color,
in order to please the eye of the con
sumer, and their use is a practice that ail
connected with tho business would wil
lingly discontinue. The Japanese, some
years since, sent over large consignments
of sun dried leaves, free from coloring
matter and of very good quality, but they
proved to be unsalable until they were
colored, which was reluctantly done by
the inerchuuts here.—[New Orleans
Huge Stones From the Moon.
In a catalogue of Mexican meteoriter
prepared by M. Antonio del Custillo one
mass is mentioned which exploded in the
air and fell in widely dispersed frag
ments, portions of it being found in three
plac s at the angles of a triangle whose
two longer sides were somo fifty-five and
thirty-five miles in length. In one of
these places two plates of stone were
discovered, lying about 250 yards apart,
which had evidently once formed one
huge block. Measurements and esti
mations place tho combined weight of
the two blocks at eighty tons. In this
one shower of "moon stones," according
to M. del Castillo's paper, not loss than
3,000 tons of rocks fell.—[St. Louis Re
; public.
A Feature of the Great American
Desert in California.
The most fatally famous part of the
Great American Desert is Death Valley,
in California. There is on all the globe
no other spot more forbidding, more
desolate, more deadly. It is a concen
tration of the horrors of that whole
hideous area: and it lias a bitter history.
One of the most interesting and
graphic stories I ever listened to was
that related to me, several years ago, by
one of the survivors of the fumous Death
Valley party of 1849—the Rev. J. W.
Brier, an aged Methodist clergyman now
living in California. A party of five
hundred emigrants started ou the last duy
of September, 1849, from the southern
end of Utah to cross the desert to the,
then new, mines of California. There
were one huudred and five canvas-topped
wagons, drawn by sturdy oxen, beside
which trudged the shaggy men,
rifle in hand, while under the
canvas awnings rode the women and
children. In a short time there was
division of opinion as to the proper route
across that pathless waste in front; and
next day five wagons and their people
went east to reach Santa Fe (whence
there were dim Mexican trails to Los An
geles), and the rest plunged boldly into
the desert. The party which went by
way of Sante Fe reuo'jed California in
December, after vast sufferings. The
larger company traveled in comfort for
a few days until they reached about
where Pioche now is. Then they entered
the Land of Thirst; and for more than
throe months wandered lost in that realm
of horror. It was ulmost impossible to
get wagons through a country furrowed
with canons; so they soon abandoned
their vehicles, packing what thoy could
upon the bucks of the oxen. They
struggled on to glittering lakos, only to
find them deadly poison, or but a mirage
on barren sands. Now and then a wee
spring in the mountains gave them new
life. One by one the oxen dropped, day
by day the scanty flour ran lower. Nine
voung men who separated from the rest,
being stalwart and unencumbered with
families, reached Death Valley uhead of
the others, and were lost. Their bones
were found many years later by Govern
or Blaisdell and his surveyors, who gave
Death Valley its name.
The valley lies in Inyo County, and
is about one hundred and fifty miles
long. In width it tapers from three
inilos at its southern end to thirty at the
northern. It is over two hundred feet
below the level of the sea. The main
party crossed it at about the middle,
where it is but a few miles wide, but suf
fered frightfully there. Day by day
some of their number sank upon the
burning sands never to rise. The sur
vivors were too weak to help the fallen.
The strongest of the whole party was
nervous, little Mrs. Brier, who hud come
to Colorado an invalid, and who shared
with her boys of four, seven and nine
years of ago that indescribable tramp of
nine hundred miles. For the last three
weeks she had to lift her athletic husband
from the grouud every morning and
steady him for a few moments before he
could stund. She gave help to wasted
giants any one of whom, a tew months
before, could have lifted her with one
At last the few survivors crossed the
range which shuts off that most dreadful
of deserts from the garden of the world,
and were tenderly nursed to health at
tho hacienda, or runch house, of a court
ly Spaniard. Mr. Brier had lost one
hundred pounds in weight, and the others
were thin in proportion. When I suw
him last ho was a hale man of seventy
five, cheerful and active, but with strange
furrows in his face to tell of those by
gone sufferings. Ilis heroic little wife
was still living, und tho boys who had
such a bitter experience as perhaps no
other boys over survived, are now stal
wart'men.—[St. Nicholas.
The Irrepressible Oyster.
A new growth of oysters has been dis
covered oil llackett's I'oint, Chesapeake
Bay. Recently one of the crew of a
State police-boat, for tho sake of an ex
periment, threw a dredge overbourd on a
spot where it was supposed no oysters
had been for fifteen years. On with
drawing the dredge it contained a num
ber of shells, and attached to each was a
healthy-looking oyster an inch or more
in size. It is said the location, known as
llackett's Point Sand, was onco a thriv
ing oyster bed, but was destroyed about
fifteen years ago to supply vessels which
came hero to buy for planting purposes.
Tho bed had not boon disturbed for
several years, and it is said that if other
oyster grounds in the Chesapeake Bay
aro let alone for a similar period, the
same favorable results will follow.—
[Baltimore Sun.
A Beautiful Island Plantation.
Joseph Jefferson's plantation in New
Iberia, Louisiana, where Mr. Cleveland
recently passed a brief outing, is, from
all accounts, one of tho most charming
winter homes in the South. The planta
tion lies on an islund, where ton thousand
orange-trees grow, and where the air is
scented with tho fragrance of every
variety of tropical flower, while wild
fowl abound and the waters are alive
with fish. Tho residence is an old manor
house romodellod in the style of an Ital
ian villa and furnished in great luxury.
It commands a superb view from the hill
ou which it is situated, over the shining
lake below and the broad expanse of the
Gulf beyond.—[Harper's Weekly.
"Accordingto Gunter."
The phrase "According to Gunter" re
mains in our language as a perpetual
memory of Gunter, the English mathe
matician, who was horn in 1581 and died
in 10*20. Almost to tho present time the
works of Gunter were considered stan
dard. lie was tho inventor of the sur
veyor's chain; of tho logarithmic line;
of the quadrant; of tho scale bearing bis
nuine, und anything in mathematics to
be right must ho "according to Gunter."
—[St. Louis Globe-Democrat.
In Case of Croup.
While waiting for the doctor, in oases
of croup, quickly apply several sponges,
squeezed out iittho hottest water, to the
child's neck for übout twenty minutes
and place him in a hot blanket. If the
cbila is choking, give a toaspoouful of
ipecacuanha wine every five minutes
until violent sickness tukes place. It is
a good thing for the child to breathe
over steam. Four boiling water into a
basin or on a hot brick or flat iron, and
let him inhale the vapor. —[St. Louis lie
Spangled cloth is used as a trimming
for huts.

A F#W Novel InitMMi at Uu(habl Pt-
Mor torn Dtrotlaa.
The tombstone literature of the
world Is sometimes amusing reading.
In a little country churchyard, not
far from New York, is a tombstone
erected over a girl who died at the
age of 19. It bears the inscription:
"Educated to be a wife." Fancy the
curriculum of the educational institu
tion she attended! In a Baltimore
cemetery is a lot with three graves.
The stone at the rlgnt has an inscrip
tion testifying to the fafit that a wo
man lies beneath and a hand sculp
tured below the inscription points to
the center grave with the signiflcant '
sentence: "He was mine." The j
grave at the left likewise has an in
scription testifying to the fact that a
woman lies there, and here again is
a carved had pointing to the center
grave with the legend: "He was
mine also." In the middle grave is
buried the husband of the these two
women and on his tombstone are
carved two hands joined at the wrist,
one pointing to the right and the
other to the left. Then there is the
inscription: "They were both mine."
Every one who has visited Holly
wood Cemetery in Richmond, \'a.,
will remember the burial lot of a cer
tain gentleman who laid away decor
ously and tearfully in this grassy plot
three wives. The tombstone erected
over this trio of unhappy women are
exactly alike, and on each one is
sculptured a beautiful hand pointing
upward, a delicate method of signify
ing that the souls of these women are
now soaring in realms of heavenly *
It is related that the husband of
these wives, upon recovering from his
third bereavement, paid court to Miss
Mattie Ould, who was the belle of
Richmond, and who, although
many years, is still quoted by Vir
ginians as the wittiest, most fascinat
ing, and delightful of all the charm
ing women who have claimed the Old
Dominion as their birthplace. Upon
one occasion Miss Ould accompanied
this gentleman to the cemetery, and
standing beside these monuments she
said positively: "If 1 ever should
marry you, Mr. Steele, and I should
die before you, would you mind
having the hand on my tombstone
point down? Just byway of variety,
vou know."—New York Recorder.
Umbrellas made of paper are used in Paris.
If afflicted with sore eyee use Ur.leaac Thomp
son's Eye-water.ilruitKisU seU at 2&0.p.r bottle
The bicycle is destined to play aa import
ant part in warfare.
Mine Etta Hubert
Ib the daughter of Edward Hllbert, of 183 Broadway,
Lawrence, Mann., who send* ua the following:
"Ten yeara ago our child waa born. Having h*
tlx children we were naturully anxious aa to tba
health of this one. What was our dUiuay and or
row to find that she was apparently doomed to the
same fate as the others. She had little strength as a
baby, aud did not Improve an she grew older. When
about 2 1-2 years old she began to have
Fainting Spells,
dropping wherever she happened to he. At these
times she would turu black aud appeared at U>
point of death. Doctors told us she was In a very
bad way from
Heart Trouble
Nothing that we gpve her did her any good until, In
utter desperation'.*/e began giving her Hood's Sar-
B&parllla. Hhe gradually began to Improve,the faint
ing Ata became less aud less frequent and Anally
ceased entirely. Her general health Improved until
at the end of a year, having taken seven bottles, we
stopped giving it to her. At this time she was 4 years
old, and. although anxious lest the troubles might
return, we ceased to worry, sho seemed so well. Kh
Is now iu years old aud Is as
Healthy and Rugged
a child as you will And anywhere and has never
shown any indication of a return of the heart diffi
culty. During the past yearn perhaps she has taken
3 bottles lu all, we ouly giving It to her Irregularly
at times when she bus complained of feeling tired In
the spring and early summer. We feel that we owe
a great deal to
Hood's barsaparilla
and cannot say too much iu favor of It." Ed- A
ward Hilhert, Lawrence, Mans.
Hood'a Pills cur. Liver Ilia
A Fine Blooded Cattle, Shocp, Hogs, Poul
try. Sporting Dogs Tor Sale. Catalogue*,
with 1%0 engravings,free. N. P. Boyer.Oiateavllle.Fa.
/•ws- Every lover and breeder of
. -TLvN Game Fowls should subscribe foi
'The Game Bird,
a monthly Journal of sixteen
pages, SI.OO per year. If yoo
/£9fse have fowls for sale advertise In
the same. A. P. WOUL, Publisher, York, Ps,
■ Plso's Remedy for Catarrh Is the
Best. Fas lest to Use, and Cheapest.
■ Sold by druggists or sent by mall.
60c. El T. Hazeltinu, Warren, Pa. H
tVERGREEMS7^"'r^"i!{:.'. ,T F^
EVEBGBEEN N(JB36RIE3, Evergreen, Wis
(inrr Illustrated Publications, wffl
| AND CHEAP ■ a B |fn A
Bast Agricultural
lug and Timber Lands
now open to settlers. Hailed FREE. Addrea*
CHAR. B. LAkUOU, La*4 teas. M. F. >. 8., Si. Baal. IMb.
Z purify the blood, are safe and ef-Z
1 fectuuJ. The best general familyZ
a /W T I medicine known for Biliousness.a
iLaMrtuvV Breath, ftcodache.l CTSn.iSi:
of Ajmolit• Mentul Depression.*
• Painful Digestion, Pimples, Saßowf
• Complexion, Tired Feeling, and*
f every symptom or dvseaso resulting from impure*
•blood, or a failure by tho stomach, liver or intestines*
sto perform their proper functions, tor
2 over-eating are benefited by tak i rig a T A B I'LL after?
JdresVTHK HIPA k S IT KM lOA 2? o" .WSpro^St.'jLY.!
• AgenU Wantedi EIGHTY per cent profit. X
tfonl wt*h to look well dressed. Ogfft MB
N yoo don't want the best, then KKgk
MO don't want the Lace Back fffl Y&CT B
Suspender. Your dealer has it if Ml WW M
he is alive. If he Isn't he shouldn't gfl VjJ ■
be your dealer. We will mail an H
pair on receipt of sl-00. None H Pi
genuine without the stamp aa HJw toLm
Lace Rack Suspender Co., JBL JrL
67 Prince Ptreet, N. Y. ; pi* V

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