The Delaware ledger., January 05, 1884, Image 1

About The Delaware ledger. (Newark, Del.) 1879-19??

Image provided by: University of Delaware Library, Newark, DE

                
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VOLUME y II.
NEWARK, NEW CASTLE COUNTY, DELAWARE, JANUARY 5, 1884.
NUMBER 3.
FIRST-CLASS GOODS
A SPECIALTY,
AT THE
O-LASS FR03STT.
Sugar, Coffee, Tea, Starch, Canned
Goods, Foreign & Domestic Fruits.
Largest Stock and Finest Assortment of
China, Glass and Queensware
IN TOWN.
AGENT FOR THE CELEBRATED
MILWAUKEE LAGER BEER,
In bottles, 90 cents per dosen.
Pure Wines, Brandies, Whiskiea, Rio
Maracaibo and Java Coffees,
Choice Quality, Fresh Roasted Every week.
THE LOWEST CASH PRICES.
W. IF 1 . GIE^IZETFTTB..,
Main Street, Ne tvark, DeJ
f* muas,
S? MEDICINES, rf
CHEMICALS,
PATENT MEDICINES,
SOAP8, BRUSHES,
PERFUMERY,
SPONGES, ETC
A-T JAY'S
DRUG AND CHEMICAL STORE,
MAIN STREET,
Newark, Del., Near the P. O.
•ST Prescriptions Carefully Cora
pounded at all hours. Day or Night.
THE
BUSINESS COLLEGE,
108 SOUTH TENTH ST., PHILADELPHIA
First-class facilities for imparting a
Business Education. Certificates good
in 86 colleges. The extensive Practical
Department is furnished with a Commis
sion House, Freight Office, Importing
and Jobbing House, and a complete Bank,
•aoh in «ctive operation, with all the po
sitions filled by pupils. Daily correBjkra
denoe and transactions between the stu
different- colleges. Beperate
dents of
Instruction. No vacation. Students
enter at any time. Visitors always wel
pome, Correspond
from young
ing in mercantile affaire and correct bus
{nets habit 1 . Illustrated Circulars free
and calls solicited
wishing thorough train
NOW IS THE TIME TO GET A
GOOD STOVE
\m
■■ -
NATHAN ZIGLER,
MAIN ST., NEWARK, DEL.
SÊST QUALITY TIN ROOFINQ
WM. H. FISHER,
PAINTER.
Having recently opehed the shop
opposite Wm. Russell's store, I am
prepared to do any kind of work in
my line, such as
REPAIRING
AND
GARNISHING FURNITURE.
Houss Painting,
AND
oil iFixTisxxxjsra-.
4 114IKS RFUAYKD.
»00 A WEEK!
guarantee the above amount
to good, aotive, energetio
We
AGENTS !
gentlemen, make a
hi the business. Very little
pltal required. We have household
deles an salable as flour.
Ladies as well
Xt »oils Itself!
It is used every day in the family. You
do not need to explain its merits. There
Is a rich harvest for all who embrace
ibis golden opportunity. It costs you
cent to learn wbat your busi
is. Buy a postal card and write
1 and
pectus aud fulbfiartloulars
!
And we know you will derive more
good »ban you have any idea of. Our
reputation as a manufacturing 00 m
puny h such that we can not afford to
leo-ive. Write to us on a postal and
give your address plainly aud receive
lull particulars.
!
only
will send you our pros
Buckeye M'F'O Co.,
Marlon, Ohio.
KLECTRICITY.-Of all th# known Electro-Gal
vuiilo Appliaates at the prrssn*. day il to now oon
■4 ky ihs Modlcal Fraternity and Electrician
nrally, that the Amerlcau Qalvanlo Co. ■ How
1 S11iKi.ua are the beat, possessing Intrinsic Eleo
rlcal merlu, ae one shield or sppllanos o»n be flt
auy part of the body, which la
n y other. See advertisement la am
f Lbl* paper.—Electric Oaaettea.
>l
1. d
other ooluma
Action of Wood. —It is stated that
iome kinds of woods, although of great
durability in themselves, act upon each
other to their mutual destruction. Ex
periment« with cypress and oodar prove
that they will rot eaoh other when join
ed together, but on separation the de
cay will cease, and the timber* remain
l>er r 6 3tly sound for a long period.
:
J
THE STAR O' THE MORN,
ThoHtiir o' the morn is whitest,
The bosom of dawn is brightest;
The dew is
And the blossoms blown,
Wherein thou,my dear, dellghtest.
Hark, I have risen before thee,
That, the spell of the day be o'ei
That the flush of my love
May fall from above,
Aud, mixed with the moru,adore thee.
forsake thee,
And the bliss of thy being take thee.
Let the beauty of morn
In thine eyes be born,
And the thought of me awake thee.
Come forth to hear thy praises,
Whioh the wakening world upraises;
Let thy hair be spun
With the gold o' the sun,
And thy feet be kissed by daisies.
then;
Dark dreams must
SLATE UR WIFE.
"Ten o'clock, ana the IQnch basket
not ready to take to the field—as
usual 1" grunted farmer Brewster, as
ho threw himself into a rocking chair
in the kitchen and fanned his flushed
face with his straw hat. "A quarter
of an hour wasted very likely, waiting
here. Right iu the midst of as fine a
hay day as any man would wish to
see Now, my mother used to have
her lunch ready to the minute when
ever we came for it, and I don't see
why—"
His jeremiad was checked by the
appearance of his wife, who came out
of the pantry, lugging along the great
lunch basket, almost too heavy for her
strength.
Farmer Brewster was a young man
In spite of his grumbling. Only twen
ty three, tall, straight, healthy, with
blue eyes, rosy cheeks, fair curly hair
—and handsome face when it was not
darkened, as now, by a scowl of dis
content.
A 11 only son, lie had inherited a
large aud handsome farm, clear of
mortgage and debt, which supplied all
the wants ot his household most lib
erally and gave him a nice little sum
of money to deposit in the bank each
year.
There was 110 reason why he should
be mean, and yet miserly habits were
gradually growing upon him far faster
than he knew.
Nor was there need of grumbling
over the household arrangements, since
the wife of his choice was a farmer's
daughter, who knew well how to work,
and who hud taken delight iu setting
lier home in faultless order when first
she cume as a bride to the pleasant
Brewster place.
The same order reigned still, from
garret to cellar of the old square house,
but Mrs. Brewster went through her
tasks mechanically now, or with ner
vous haste and hurry that made them
almost unendurable sometimes.
The constant drop of water will wear
away a stone; and the constant fault
finding in which her husband buw fit
to indulge had nearly wum the patience,
the hope and the endurance out of tlie
young wife's heart.
The comfort and happiness of that
home hung upon a thread, which fray
ed morq and more, hour by hour, un
der the pain of unmerited blame.
Yet George Brewster saw nothing of
this until the morning of which I
write.
"There is the lunch, and it is exactly
live minutes past.ten," said Mrs. Brews
ter, setting the basket down with some
emphasis at his feet. "I was delayed
that much with the butter. It had to
be seen to before the sun got too high."
"My mother always churned before
breakfast," observed George, rising
slowly to his feet.
His wife said nothing, but the color
rose hotly in her cheeks till the lost
bloom of her girlhood seemed to have
come back again, and she raised her
eyes to his with a look that startled
him.
Very handsome eyes they were—
dark, soft and velvety, with a world of
love and tenderness in their depth.
Yet now they met his own coldly
and sternly, with such an expression
that he exclaimed:
Good gracious, Letty l YYralookas
if you hated me.
"I am afraid 1 do,"
iug reply.
Aud with a swift glauco at the clock,
Letty hurried down into the cellar with
a knife and pan to make her prepara
tions for dimier for six hungry hay
makers.
"Afraid she hates me! My wife!
Letty Glover!" muttered
he to himself In his l>ewilderment.
the astound
She that
"Why what on earth—I She must be
going crazy or something or other."
"Letty!" he called at the cellar door.
"It is ten minutes past ten," she
swered from the depth of her cellar.
"If I dont
about the dinner it
won't be on the table at twelve to the
minute, as your mother used to have
it. I can't come."
"Well, if this don't beat all," said he
to the Maltese and white cat, who as
cended from the cellar and rubbed
herself against his legs.
A shout from the hay field roused
him to the recollectioa of the day's bus
inss.
He went out aud dispensed the treas
ures of his basket among the hungry
, who praised Letty's cooking with
every mouthful they swallowed.
"It's enough to make
elor like me sit down and cry to eat
such raspberry shortcakes as that,"
said Solomon Wyse, wiping the crumbs
of the feast from his lips before he
drank hard cider from the jug. "Tell
you what it is, George, you drew a
prize wheu you went courting."
"So he did. And here's her good
health," chimed in another mower, as
he took up the jug.
George assented vaguely.
They were talking of his wife—his
! wife wlrt was afraid she hated him.
old bach
:
J Never had two hours between lunch
and dinner passed so slowly. J
As he rode round and round the field
with a sharp rattle of the mowing ma- 1
chine he guided in his care, his mind
was continually busy with Letty's looks,
and her words, and his eyes often turn
ed toward the cream colored farm
house, behiud whose spruce green
blinds his wife
busy preparing din
ner.
"I used to think how happy I should
be if I ever persuaded her to come
here," he thought. "It is two years—
w'hy, I declare it is two years this verv
day that we
if she remembers it. But it isn't very
likely, when she says she is afraid she
hates me."
Did she remember? Ah, in that re
membrance lay the sting.
married! I wonder
All that morning while she got
breakfast at five o'clock, and washed
the dishes, sw'ept the rooms, made the
beds, churned butter and prepared a
lunch for six men, her heart turned
back to the other morning twenty-four
months ago, when the bright-eyed
country maiden rose at four o'clock to
complete her preparations for her wed
ding day.
IIow good, how kind, how hand
then. How his
some her George
eyes followed her; how his love blessed
her.
Was it all her fault that the bloom
and beauty of life had departed in
those short years?
Looking back she could see no day
In which she had not at least tried to
do her dutv.
And looking in the glass window she
saw how the light and glow of youth
had passed from her face, while ac
complishing the task uncheered by the
approval of him she loved.
"George has kept his color and his
good 1« oks became his work lies out of
doors," she mused, "but I have worked
in this old kitchen until I look old
enough to be his mother. His mother"
—she paused with a bitter laugh—"I
almost wish I was his-mother, then he
would be suited with what I did."
Noon came. The twelve o'clock
whistle sounded sharp and clear from
the factory in the village a mile away;
aud before the whistle ceased a little
ligure stepped out on the .side porch of
the Brewster house and blew a horn.
"There's a woman for you," said
Solomon- Wyse, admiringly. "Dinner
to the minute—and won't it be a good
one?"
The dinner was, indeed, a success,
every dainty of ihe seasou and fann
was there, skillfully cooked and neatly
served ou u table in the cool dining
room—a table covered with a snowy
cloth fresh from its fold, and glass and
china.
In the centre of the table stood a
great china bowl full of red roses that
perfumed the room. Her cheeks were
red, her eyes shone dark and bright,
her words, and smiies were ready for
every one save George.
As she sat grave aud silent at the
foot of the table, he looked at her won
deringly.
She wore a dress of silver gray al
paca that had been her traveling dress
when they were married.
A large white apron, with a bib,
shielded the glories of the costume.
But why did she put it on? Surely
she could not think of "going visiting"
that afternoon, with six haymakers to
get tea for and the milk of eight cows
to attend to afterward.
But he finally went out without ask
ing it. The wife who was afraid she
hated him, seemed almost like a stran
ger, although she looked so much on
this occcasion like the girl he had mar
ried two years ago.
As George neared the woodshed,
where the men were lounging away
the rest of the nooning, he heard his
own name uttered by Solomon Wyse in
tones of anger.
Involuntarily he staved his steps.
"Yes, I knew George from a baby
up, and I always said he'd make a like
ly man. But I vow it is a shame to
see how he treats that pretty little
creature! Such a lunch this morning
and such a dinner this noon, in such a
nice cool room, with the red roses and
all the rest of it; and she is lust as
pretty as a picture, with her red cheeks
and bright e. r es, and wavy hair, and
dresfed as neat as a pink, too. And
he sitting there as grum as a cross
old man of ninety. I was ashamed of
him."
"Ive heard he does nothing but find
fault with her all tlie day long," said
a second voice. "My wife says if I
threw my mother into her teeth, as
George does his Letty's she'd run away
from
before she was a day older.
"And serve you right chimed in a
third. I tell you what my wife says:
She says it is confounded mane and
small of George not to keep a woman
here to help his w'ife. And when 1
kjiw the dinner; to day, the pretty little
thing had got for us all alone, I thought
so, too. Hang me if I hadn't half a
mind to stop here this afternoon and
help her wash up that 'great pile of
dishes, and let the haying go to thun
der. It's enough to kill the woman to
have all that work to do. And George
is rich. What on earth is he thinking
about? But he'll be sorry tor this in a
ear or two hence, when we have to
come here on a different errand."
"To carry her out in a coffin?" said
Solomon Wyse, "Yes, I suppose it
will come to that if some of us don't
talk seriously to George. She don't
look at all strong now, and her bands
trembled when sbe changed my plate.
It's a burning shame—and if none of
you will talk to George aliout it, I
will."
But when George Brewster joined
them, Solomon Wyse deemed it pru
dent to defer the proposed "talking
J to,'* for hia brow was black as night,
and he had no more to say to his neigh
1 bors now than to his wife at the dinner
table,
This, then, was the way in which
they spoke of him bohind his back,
these men who labored beside him, and
took their wages from him and pre
tended to be Ills friends.
And his wife she was afraid she ha
ted him. To whom could he turn for
comfort—with whom could he expect
true friendship, it she who should have
been nearest and dearest was
in disguise? Lost in moody reverie he
paid little attention to his work.
And at three o'clock in the after
noon there was a sadden uproar in the
hay field—a tramping of hoofs, a rush
of terrified men, a confusion of voices,
and among them all George Brewster
lying on the ground beneath the mow
ing machine, his right arm and leg
broken by the wheels, his head cut aud
bleeding with his heavy fall.
Meanwhile Letty, in the cream-color
ed house, had not been idle.
enemy
Tying on a great calico apron in
place of the white one, she had quietly
washed and put away the dinner dish
es and reduced the dining room to or
der.
Tea
to consist of cold dishes, with glasses of
milk for the men.
She threw a clean table cloth over
the whole
went up stairs into the spare cham
to pack her trunk.
"Ye?, Letty had made up her mind
at last. She was going away.
Life had degenerated into slavery
unbrightened as siie fancied, by a ray
of love.
"And slavery will support one any
where," thought Letty, as with tremb
ling hands she locked and strapped her
trunk and fastened her few lines to
George upon the lid.
At the porch door she paused for one
last look around the house that might
have been so happy.
She did not intend to glance toward
the hayfield.
Yet in spite of her resolution her
eyes turned that way to single out the
tall figure that guided the rattling,
clicking mowin j machine.
" I wonder if he will miss me a little
—just at first?" she mused. He
get a divorce, I suppose, if I desert
him, and then he will marry again. I
hope he will be kinder to his next wife
than he has been to me."
With tears that rose at the thought
of her successor blinding her eyes, Let
ty failed to see the figure that she
sought.
"I am toolish to look at him again.
I have never been more than a house
easily arranged, since it was
soon a? It was finished and
keeper to him from the first," she
thought, stumbling blindly on toward
the gate and opening it to find herself
in the centre of
excited group.
"There, don't ye take on like that?
said Solomon Wyse, who came first and
saw the tears upon her cheeks before
she could wipe them away.
"Were you coming out to meet us?
We were in hopes you didn't see any
thing of it. L'ts a bad accident, but
George is so strong and hearty that he
will be up and around again almost be
fore you know it. We'
Hill off on one of the.colts for the
sent Ben
doctor, and if you will only tell us
where to carry him—"
"Carry him?" repeated Letty.
Solomon stepped aside. She saw
behind him a litter roughly made of hay
rakes and covered
with coats and
that litter George was lying pale and
bleeding, with his eyes closed.
"Oh, Mr. Wyse, is he dead?" she
asked, turning even paler than George.
"Not a bit of itl Worth twelve
dozen dead men yet. Only a bit of a
break in one
aud oue leg, and a
knock on the head when he fell. The
horse didn't kick, and he'll be all right
as soon as the doctor sees him. Shall
we take him up stairs or where?"
"Bring him in here," said Letty re
covering herself.
She led the w'ay to the bedroom on
the ground floor and helped to shift
the maimed figure from the litter to
the bed. Her soul was dying within
her for fear, yet not a word passed her
lips.
When the doctor came in he found a
capable nurse, dressed in a dark print
who listened intelligently to his direc
tions, and promised to carry them out
fully.
And it so happened that as George
Brewster returned to life the first
words that fell upon his ears were ut
tered by the doctor outside the window
as he mounted his gig;
"Yes, he will do, Mr. Wyse, he will
pull through nice if his wife nurses
him. And Bhe can do so nicely, if
some of you will send some one to take
charge of the house. Slie
thousand. I hope he knows how
to value her."
Letty bending over the bed absorbed
in the invalid, had not heard him?"
"What is it dear?"
"The doctor is right. You are a
woman in a thousand! 1 always knew
iL Letty, if 1 never said it. So I tell
you of it now, before I die," he added,
going off into another faint.
It was all that Letty's sore heart
needed. Beside the bed of suffering
she spent two of the happiest months
of her life. The first act of George
Brewster on his recovery was to secure
help for his wife, so that she now has
plenty of time to get back her lost
color and plumpness. They
heart, as
And Solomon Wyse has never seen oc
casion to administer the "talking to."
"Somehow or other," drawled Solo
mon, "getting run over by the mowing
machine was the making of George
Brewster."
And Letty and George think so too,
a woman
m
one in
in borne and name now.
(
Weti op, the
An American of the other sex, who
has done well in England, is Edward
Payson Weston, the pedestrian. So
thoroughly Yankee in speech and per
son is Weston that he is at once ac
cepteu m that country as a represeta
tive American. I knew him well dur
ing his career in the United States, and
I regard him as a most remarkable
walker. It was not so much that he
was able to leg it live hundred miles in
six days, and did it some time before
the long distance record exceeded his
1 mit of enduranc3, but his more won
derful achievement was that of being a
professional athlete without any asso
ciation with professional sporting men.
He did not for years enter into a race.
His walks were "scientific tests of
human endurance." I had to do with
one of these events as a newspaper re
porter.
"Who Are io be the judges?" I
asked.
"Oti, I'd have Professor Doremus,
the Rev. Dr. Hep worth and Judge
Daly," he replied.
"Nonsense," said I, "they won't let
you use their names in connection with
a foot-race."
"See if they don't," he confidentially
retorted; "and, what's more, they'll
actually serve—at least for the first
day."
And so they did. And moreover
they lent him the money with which to
pay the preliminary expenses. He had
been a book agent. That had been tlie
calling in which he had developed a
wonderful capacity for walking and
talking. His perceptiveness was equal
to gaining the names and presence of
the three mentioned eminent men.
Added to this was a stroke of good
luck. James Gordon Bennett was
among the spectators at the midnight
start. He is strong and expert at nearly
all kinds of exercise, including pedes
trianism. The notion took him to oc
cupy the track with Weston for the
first mile. The next morning's papers
gave accounts of the start, placing the
professor, the divine and the judge in
the scorer's stand and tlie journalist
the track. Nothing more was needed
to command fashionable attention. The
building was thronged throughout the
week by people in fine clothes. Ladies
were abundant. The distance covered
by the pedestrian was only 435 miles,
for this was the occasion of one of his
several failures to go the promised 500.
Now that the go-as-you-please record
has been raised to 575, Weston's earlier
performances at heel-and-toe walking
seem insignificant. Nevertheless, the
435 miles were enougli to satisfy the
spectators then, und he cleared nearlj
that he is now plodding
through England as a total abstinence
pedestrian—traveling fifty miles every
day, and lecturing on temperance every
evening. He will fool them in the dis
tance walked if he gets tlie chance.
He has made fully $100,000 in pedes
trianism, and all of it is gone. After
winuing a great London match and
JE'2,000, he spent the whole amount in
three months at Brighton. A line of
creditors marks the entire route of his
pedestrianism, and yet he cannot keep
a dollar.
$8,000. I
A Divorce Cu
A case that is exciting much Interest
in Baltimore is the suit of Emma J.
Fearing, against her husband, Robert J.
Fearing, asking that tlie court declare
her marriage null and void. She is a
white woman, and her plea is that he Is
a colored man. She is a pretty bru
nette, with large brown eyes, and is
quite intelligent. Telling her story for
the first time she said :
"1 was born in Dorchester, New
Brunswick, and am 28 years old. 1 left
that place when I was 2*2 years old and
went to live with my married sister in
Castine, Me. It was there that I first
met Feuriug, who was then steward on
a government vessel at that port. I
introduced to him at my sister's
resideuce, where he was well knowu.
It never occurred to me for an instaut
that he had African blood in his veins,
and I had never heard of such a being
as a mulatto. He proposed for my hand
and I willingly gave it. We were
married on May 8,1879, by a Congre
gationalist minister in Castine. At the
end of the first year a little girl t.__
bom to us, and a prettier babe was
never seen. One night before her death
Robert received a letter from Washing
ton containing a tin-type of his little
nephew. In opening the letter I saw
the tin-type drop on the floor. He
picked it up hurriedly and thrust it in
his vest pocket, not thinking I had
seen it. The letter must have made
him nervous, for on leaving tlie house
he dropped it. My curiosity was
aroused, and 1 picked the letter up and
read it. It was from his brother,
Charles, and he said he inclosed a tin
type of his little boy. When Robert
returned I asked him to let me see the
tin-type. After urging he did so, and
I saw at a glance that the child - ~
not white. Noticing my surprise, he
said the child is a little darker than the
children hi this part of the country,
owing to the warm climate of South
Carolina, where the child was born.
However, he finally confeased that the
child was a mulatto, and that he him
self was of African descent. I was
mortified beyond expression, and we at
once left Castine. We lived at Middle
port for some time, and then went to
Washington. There I met his brother,
who was a very light mulatto, as 7 . "
his brother's wife. His brother was
employed In the Treasury Department,
and they treated me very kindly. Fin
ally I got money enough to go hack
home and then decided to enter this
suit. My husband is now on a govern
ment steamer at Mobile, Ala.
Kind or
A Mi
_ Party.
Somebody ought to introduce Into
England a form of entertoiunieut which
bas, we are told, hau beeu for some
time in vogue iu Fans—diuneraeu tele.
At these dinner«, and the rule ha* been
sometimes ex tended to dauoos, all the
guests are bound to appear with their
heads attired iu some fancy costume.
Au old gentleman goes as a Doge of
Venice or a l\*pe, a young lady as
Marie Antonetto or au incroyable. The
choice of botli ladies and gentlemen iu
unlimited, and, as the disguise is of the
Load alone, the great « xpeuso of a com
plete fauoy dress ij avoided, while at
the samo time the opportunity for ao
cute imitation of anti pie types is in
creased through tlie much greater
facilty offered by prints and paintings,
which so often give only the head and
bust.
—The leader of King Kalkaua's court
orchestra is a Berlin man, M. Hermuch
Berger.
There
more people who can for
get themselves than govern themaelves.
Dtuva Warning*.
A number of acquaintances were to
gether recently, when the conversation
turned on the subject of premonitious
of death warnings. No one confessed
to a belief in such things, but each had
a well authenticated instance to relate
whioh no one
Said
able to explain.
not prepared to
say whether I do or do not believe in
promouitioDH. What I am going to re
late happened ander my own observa
tion, and made a lasting impression
me. Several years ago three of us were
rooming tbgether on Walnut Hills
One ot the number was formerly from
Maysville, Ky., a man without any
nonsense in him in regard to anything.
Of his father's lamily he often spoke,
and particularly of a little half brother,
for whom he seemed to have more thau
a brother's affection, One night, prob
ably about two o'clock,
ened by a cry of distress from
in another bed. We found him sitting
upright and wide awake. Id explana
tion of the cry lie said he had just that
minute seen his little brother die. We
tried to reason him out of suen
but ne simply replied: 'I will not sub
ject myself to your ridicule by sayiug
anything more about it, but my fears
will be confirmed when morning cornea. '
Bure enough, on the arrival of the first
omnibus from the city in the morning
came a messenger boy with a telegram
announcing the death of the little halt
brother in Maysville. I know all this
to be true. Make your own explaina
ttons."
"Some of you know," said another,
"that my poor mother died in an insane
asylum a few yearn ago. My oldest
brother enlisted during the first months
of the late
the foot from some of the incidents con
nected with his departure for camp.
Three days later, before any word hud
been reoeived from him, my mother
aroHsed the household with her screams.
It was about ten o'clock at night, the
family, including my mother, having
retired early. Mother said she had
seen Tom, iu her sleep lying
dead, with a fearful wound iu his left
breast. It was in vain that she
that it all carno about by her »nxiety
tft hear from him, and the pictures she
had drawn of a horrible buttle.
"She would believe nothing except
that lier boy
several miles from a telegraph office, but
early m the morning father rode over
and telegraphed to the captain of the
company. While he waited »he answer
came; 'Torn was accidentally stabbed
to death last night, Particulars by
mail.' The particulars were that Tom,
whil3 attempting to separate two
who were fighting received a fatal knife
wound in the left breast. My poor
mother never knew wheu the body ar
rived. From the moment tlie coutents
or the telegrum woro made kuown to
her she became a maniao, and died after
ten long years of suffering without
seeming to recognize either of the three
younger children who were left worse
than motherless."
"When 1
: "I
were awak
friend
Id«.
. I can just remember
a cot,
to!,'
dead. Wo lived
a boy," said a third,
"my mother hud 1 youug lady doing
some sewing for her.
garded us a most remarkable girl. Deep
ly religious, sbe can led her profession
into her every day life.
She was re
Her prayers
and exhortations were remarkable for
one so youug and uneducated, Her
lit© was a bt uutnul one
every respect
One winter's night she and my mother
were sitting by the fire after having put
up their sewing, when she astonished
my motlier by asking whether she
thought persons wero ever warned of
their approaching death.
••i
a small boy, and my presence
was not regarded of any moment. My
mother made au evasive reply, and the
young lady related the following: 'One
year ago to-night my two sisters aud
myself were sleeping in one room, they
m one bed and I in the other. I
awakened in some manner, I cjuld not
tell how, but with the most delightful
feeling 1 ever experienced. I hes.tafced
to open my eyes, although 1 was wide
awake, lest the delightlul sensation I
felt would leave me. I did open my eyes,
however. The moon was shining bright
ly in the room, aud for a moment 1
nothing unusual, while my eyes caught
sight of a little child staudiug
foot of my bed. I was not frightened
and do not believo I was surprised. It
all seemed
the
natural and a part of the
pleasant waking 1 had just experienced
that 1 waited to
oome. In a moment the ohiid said*
"You will Jive just three years,' aud
it was goue. I did not awaken
sisters, but the next morning I related
tlie oiroumstanceat the breakfast table.
They ail laughed at me e xcept father,
who looked serious, and has treated
with greater tenderness ever tiuco. I
believe I am going to di« at the time
designated, but I
what uext would
my
making no pre
paration for the event beyond trying to
how much good I can do in the
short time I
to stay here.'
"1 resolved to watch the date, but
boy like, it all passed irom my mind. I
only remember that two winters after,
cool Christmas Day, I drove my
mother in a sleigh to attend tlie funeral
of her young girl friend. bhe had beeu
sick nearly ail winter, and probably
died at the very date that she said she
would."
• '1 Believe 1 have never related this
before," said another. "My father had
been an invalid for several years, but of
late he had not seemed any more likely
to die suddenly thau for years before.
We lived many miles apart, and certain
ly not a day passed that I 1 id not think
of him, but I had ceased to feel that
constant anxiety that clung to mo the
first year or two of his illness. One
night after I had retired I lay awake,
aud with my face toward the front side
of the bed. Buddenly I imagined that
my father was staudiug beside the bed
looking at me. Do uot understand me
to mean that I saw him. If any of you
will close your eyes, by the exertiou of
your imagination yon can, of coarse,
bring any objeot before you. That was
my situation, except that I did not pur
poaely employ my imagination. The
vision came instantly aud unsought.
Thisi
did uot appear
seemiugly free from suflering aud in
the very best humor. A pleasant smi]«>
on his face, as I had not seen iu
twenty years. It was all over in a
meut. I opened my eyes involuntarily,
and, of course, sawnothiug. I did not
sleep for some hours, ami when I di d
fall to sleep I was disturbed by drames
aud got up in the morumg unrefreshed
and went to my place of business.
About 8 o'clock I was handed a tele
gram, and realized what it mont For
a minute i was engaged, aud put the
telegram in my pocXet * Wh6n I"was
plain as I can make it He
I had last seen him,
disengaged, which was almost instantly
I commenced making arrangements to
be absent, and
associate that I had not read my tele
gram. 1
contained that I had unthinkingly al
lowed it to remain unopened. The
reading confirmed my fears. He had
died suddenly the night before, and
was dead perhaps a minute before any
one knew it. Was it then that hia
pirit appeared at my bedside? I do
not know, but the time corresponds
exaotly."
One of the oompany had said nothing
during the entire conversation. He
asked for his experience, and very
unexpectedly to most of the company
he had one to give. "As you ail know,
I have a wife and children, and I do
not need to tell yon that I am happily
married. Away back in my boyhood,
like most boys, I had a 'first love.'
They are often laughed af, aud seldom
make matchee, but I believe that those
early loves leave lasting impressions
and should not be mode light of. We
were separated in the most natural way,
and years later we both married. We
never met, and so far
judge, no regret marred the happiness
of either of us. Buoh separations
regarded as natural and necessary; but.
I want to put ou reoord here that I
never thought of her without recalling
the pleasant emotion of her early love,
aud which I believe are never felt in
any future attachments, however true
and warm they may be. One ni*ht,
when I hud oertainly not thought of her
for months, I was awakened by what I
then thought, and still believe,
kiss on my forehead, and she stood be
side me in p lain view. It was only for
a moment, and the incident, imaginary
or real, did pot disturb mo enough to
keep me awake for five minâtes. A
week later I heard of her death, Good
night, gentlemen; I did not kn
late."
Tlie company rose up, and the writer
ory
related in
reminded by
so well satisfied what it
I am able to
has gh en a faithful recital from
of the
the order givon.
called incidmts
Ghostly Ships ;
'De I believe in phantom ship-? Yes,
The old sailor was emphatic,
Ido.
so the reporter merely said, "Ah I"
"There ain't as much of that sort of
shipping afloat as there used to be,"
continued the old man. "I rather
guess steam vessels have sorter scared
'em off the ocean. But still there's a
good many more than you'd think, and
more thau I like to see going about."
"Did you ever see any ?"
"Yes, Once, when I was second
mate of a bark bound from this port
to Calcutta I saw a phantom ship I shall
never forget. We were nearing the
Cape of Good Hope. The wind was
light and the weather was thick. That
night when the sun set and the moon
rose, the mist that hung over the water
gave everything a ghastly appearance,
and our spars and Bails as we looked
aloft seemed more like those of some
phantom vessel than things you could
take hold of. There wore no indica
tions of a blow', and we were scudding
along witlroui sky-sails and studding
sails set. I had the second dog watch
and just as eight bells struck and the
first watch came on deck to relieve me,
the lookout
called out, ' sail ho.'
said I.
said he. I looked and there she
a ship with high bulwarks and a tower
ing stern, of a build like the pictured
ships in history books. Her sails weie
like clouds, her masts and spars like
streams of vapor. She came down on
us with marvelous rapidity. As she
neared us I stepped to the rail and sang
out, 'Ship ahoy I' but no answering hail
came from the deck of the phantom
craft and, sailing right against the
wind, she passed on and in three min
utes w'as lost to sight."
"What w r as it ?"
"The Flying Dutchman,"
"What is the Palatine light ?"
"Well 1 I thought everybody knew
what that was. You see in early colo
nial times Block Island, off the coast
Rhode Island,
ers. A ship called the Palatine, from
the Palatinate on the Rhine, loaded
with colonists, was 1 ured on the rocks
by false lights and then pillaged aud
burned by the wreckers. Most of the
colonists were lost. A few survived,
and to this day their descendants, for
some of them married the daughters of
the wreckers, are among the inhabi
tants of the island. On a cliff over
looking the scene of the wreck are
several mounds called the Palatine
to'gallant fo'castle
'Where away?'
'Three points on the lee-bow',
inhabited by wreck
graves, where some of the bodies that
were washed ashore are buried. Now,
on the anniversary of the wreck of the
Palatine, the watchers on shore see a
ship on tlie rocks beneath the cliff burn
ing in three columns of flame. I have
seen it with these very eyes—hundreds
of others have
it ; aud explain it
as you will, it is an undoubted fact that
the strange unearthly lights bum
there."
"That is good," said the reporter;
another phantom ship. "
"Well, in August, 18Ö2, a fishing
fleet from the Grand Banks was over
taken by a storm and put into St.
Mary's Bay for shelter. As is frequent
ly the case in those latitudes the storm
was accompanied by a thick fog and the
fleet of 100 boats was lost. Now when
there is a similar storm there, the ves
sels seeking shelter sail through the
midst of a phantom fleet of those hun
dred fishing boats."
"Did you ever see them?"
"No, but I xnow people who have."
"You have heard, of course, of the
gnostly ship that used to sail, and some
times sails now, up Narragausett Bay ;
of Henry Hudson's Half Moon having
beeu een at anchor under the Palisa
des?"
"Can't say that I have."
"Well, people have told me that have
seen it."
"gl«
Blood obtained irom the slaughter
house or saved on the farm when butch
ering, is a good application to the body
of fruit trees to proteot them from rab
bits and mice.
A Uhoit of a Chance.
"Wliat are the chances against a
player in a square game of faro?" the
reporter asked of an old gambler.
"Against a sucker—a 'producer,* I
mean?" inquired the gambler.
"I mean the clerk or merchant that
drops in to tackle the game," said the
reporter.
"Well, that's what we call a produ
cer," tlie sport explained, and then
went on: "That's the class that produ
ces the wealth that makes gambling a
business. It is the 'producer's' money
keeps the game going. The cliances he
has of winning, with nothing against
him, and if he hasn't got a system and
isn't betting high, are about one out of
two, or, may be, two out of five—that
is, he will lose in two out of three, or in
three out of five plays against the bank,
and no matter how often he wins he is
■tire to be a dead loser In the end. If
he plays big and has a sjstem, the dealer
soon gets on to it. If he is stuck on a
card or plays 'three on a side,' or 'odd
and even,' or 'both ends against the
middle,' it will take the dealer no time
to find it out, and, as it is his duty to
protect the bank, he will shufiie the
cards so as to lay the player out cold.
The player generally sticks to his sys
tem and has no chance. If there are a
number of persons playing, of course it
is difficult for a dealer to handle the
cards in this way; but often the numer
ous players seen at a table are staked
players, who are playing with the
bank's money, and of whom the dealers
take no notice, and It makes no differ
ence whether they win or not, so his
whole attention can be given to the
producer. In nearly every bank they
have a lot of cappers hanging around,
and when a producer comes in they are
'staked' to start the game."
"The dealer has another trick," the
sport continued, "that we call 'taking
the card by the ear.' If the player is
a 'high roller,' that is, a big better, and
has a favorite card, it may lose for him
all the time. In that .case the dealer
puts it on its proper pile, but if the
player is winning tlie dealer will throw,
this card down carelessly, so that it
doesn't lay squarely on the pile,
tending to straighten them up, he will
slip the card under the pile, and then
shulfie them so that in the next deal
the player's chances are to lose; if the
player wins again, the dealer will again
take the card by the ear. Those things
cannot be done where there are a
her of genuine players, for in that case
it makes little difference to the bank
who wins or loses, the players playing
each other's money, and the bank hav •
ing the benefit of the splits."
"And this is wlnft you call a square
game?"
"Why, of course; all this is done
merely to protect the bank, which must
nave some protection. In a brace game
the player stands no more show of win
ning than he does of swallowing a
lightning rod. In the square game
there is some show .or him. Jiut every
player has his system with winch he
expects to break the bank, and he finds
cut m the end and the truth of the say
ing that there never was a system tne
dealer couldn't beat. These things are
necessary, as I said, to protect the bank,
it is often- subject to losses by shoe
string players, who, being deeply in
debt, manage to get hold of a few dol
lars and having nothing much to lose,
conclude to try their luck. Sometimes
a fellow wins $fiuu or $7U0 dollars off a
'shoe string,' as we call a small stake,
goes out aild pays his debts, and that's
the last the bank sees of the money.
1 he chances are, if he has five dollars
or ten dollars left, lie'll come back, and
if luck is still with him, will win a few
more hundreds. But, talk about it as
you may, faro is the fairest and squarest
game, and, if a man must gamble, I'd
advise him to tackle nothing else."
"Can't faro be beaten?"
"Not unless you play a limitless
game aud have a mint of money to do
it with. If a bank has $2,000, you can
bet $2,000 on a card, and, if it wins,
the bank is busted and there's an end
of it. If you lose, you have to keep on
doubling your beta until you do win,
when, of course, the desired end is ac
complished, But every bank has its
limit, and when you get to it, you've
got to stay there The fact that few
gamblers have money shows which way
the wind blows. It's rare one dies rich.
The banks make the money, the 'pro
ducer' furnishes, and the professional
sport kind of hangs in between the two
until women or whisky bring him to his
grave."
1
to
it
na
The Eiuperor Joli au
Christianity.
In approaching Julian's objections to
Cliristrian doctrine we must uot expect
a similar idea of doctrinal proof to that
which prevails in our own, age steeped
as it is in the skeptical spirit generated
by the study of the inductive sciences,
aud demanding for every theory,
whether of sensible or of sui>ersensuous
things, and absolutely verititable basis
of fact. Many of the modern difficul
ties with which Christianity has to con
teud are altogether out of harmony
with the spirit of J ulian. The miracles,
for example, recorded in the Old and
New Testaments are so i ar from pre
senting iu this mind a stumbling-block
to the faith that he speaks scornfully of
the comparatively small number and
unimportant character of the miracles
attributed to Christ. But here, per
haps, we may draw a distinction.
Where he is dealiug with things that
are said ta have actually happened, or
to be about to happen, in the material
world, and which are amenable to the
evidence of tlie senses, J ulian argues
quite in the spirit of a modem skeptic.
When dealing with the story of the
Tower of Babel, for instance, he naively
remarks that if all the earth were made
into bricks it would not furnish material
sufficient for a tower reaching only to
the orbit of the moon. Again, he asks
from what source St. Luke could
possibly derive his information as to
the presence of an angel strengthening
Christ on the eve of the crucifixion,
lie complains of the confused aud con
tradictory accounts of the resurrec
tion of Christ, aud in oue fragment, in
speaking of Bt. Paul's promises (1
Thess., iv.) of the Becond Advent, he
utters the remarkable proposition that
not to distinguish, in forecasting the
future, the possible from the impossible
is the very climax of mental aberration
"Women," says Charlotte Bronte,
"are supposed to bo calm generally,
but they need exercise for their facul
ties, au I a field for their efforts, as
mach as their brothers do." Charlotte
right, They do need a field
for their efforts, but until this year we
never supposed that they would ohooie
the base-ball field.