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~IE -: TRUE DEMOCRAT.
PUBLISHED WEEKLY AT ST. FRANCISVILLE, LOUISIANA. Londoners drink 1400 tons of liquid mnud a year,according to recent expert testimony before the County Council. There are many conditions at the present time which suggest great pros perity in the near future, maintains the American Cultivator. A Denver printing house has just booked an or der for 350 placards bear ang the words "Don't blow out the gas." The Colorado Legislaturo evi dently is about to convene, comments the Chicago Times-Herald. In the last fiscal year the receipts of New Zealand railroads, which are owned and operated by the Govern. ment, were $5,757,400, and the run ning expenses $3,656,700, leaving over two millions profit to the Govern ment. A Brussels paper relates that not long ago the Prince of Monaco killed a whale on the coast of Africa, and made a present of it to some fisher men, who, on cutting open the whale's body, found a large amount of amber gris, which they sold for $20,000. Forty-two of the 150 members of the present New York Assembly are law. yers, and four more hope to be, desig nating themselves in the clerk's man ual as "law students." The farmers number twenty, there are six workers at trades, and thirty-eight manufac turers or merchants. The remainder are managers, agents, contractors, etc. Paris has found it necessary to put a cheek to the haphazard decoration of her public places. The Prefect of the Seine has appointed a technical committee of artists, architects and other competent judges, to which all plans affecting the outward appear ance of the city must be submitted for approval before the Administration officers take them up. When Congressman Dingley, of Maine, was graduated from Dartmouth College, the suit he wore on the aus picious occasion was a, black broad cloth suit, and the trousers were al most more than skin tight. It came from the fashionable tailor's shop in the little town of Hanover, and the fashionable tailor was Levi P. Morton, since Vice-President of the United States. The decadence of the American merchant marine of late years is strik ingly illustrated by the fact that while from July, 1S95, to July, 1S96, 16,884 ships of various nationalities vassed through the new Kiel canal, not one of these, so far as reported, was an American vessel. And yet, exclaims the New York Observer, once the Stars and Stripes were a familiar sight upon the high seas, and in the harbors and estuaries of Europe. Very few people, probably, ever think of Sitka as an ancient town, and yet it is 151 years since the first white residents of Alaska settled there. They were Russian hunters, who ar rived (ur years after Vitus Bering took possession of all that part of America in the Russian Czar's name. The hunters ruled themselves and a few Indians until 17909, when some Muscovite nobles formed a company on the same lines as those followed by the Hudson Bay Company, and were intrusted with control of as much of the region as they chose to claim. Their local representative was a Gen eralBaranoff, who governed theland and all itspeople for thirty years. He exercised the power of life and death over his subjects, or slaves, rather, and was a drunken ruffian of consider able shrewdness and ability. There are sixteen States in the Union, according to the Railway Age, which have no officers or boards specially constituted to supervise the railways within their respective limits and equalize the rates of transporta tion. These States are Arkansas, Colorado, Delaware, Florida, Idaho, Indiana, Maryland, Montana, Louisi anoa, Nevada, New Jersey, Tennessee, Washington, West Virginia, Wyoming and Utah. In six of these States no reports whatever are required from railroad companies. In the others there are certain State officers who take the matter in charge. The State of Arkansas, for example, has a board, consisting of the Governor, Auditor and Secretary of State, which is styled a railroad commission, but it hardly comes up to the idea of a commission as understood in Georgia and other States. In Colorado and Florida the experiment of having a commission -has been tried and abandontd. I. UNDER THE SN UNDER THE SNOWV. E31DE a lovely little o~ lake in Switzerland o o there is a small village of scattered vine-clad chalets, and the great mountains loom far beyond. On a strip of ground, juttinginto the lake, a woman is standing. Her gray hair is smoothly drawn in a knot on the back of her head. She is clad in peasant costume and there is a strange mingling of youth and age about her. Her face is a strangely pathetic one, and there is a look of terror in her eyes at times which comes and goes, awakened by the least emotion. The villagers call her Andre's mother. Above her two gentlemen are in the terraced garden, and the elder cries to the peasant woman: "Good even ing, Mine. Engermann. Are you ex pecting Andre? When he cames back with his cows and goats from the mountain he will be staying with you." "I wish it were so," said the wom an. "But he btays at home only a short time. .1fe has to go back again. Then-then he will remain home until the springtime," and Audre's mother, bowing, went on her way. The gentleman's; friend then asked his comrade: "Who is that woman? She mrust have been beautiful once. What wonderful, far-searching eyes she has ! They haunt me. Has she a a story? How account for that sem blance of terror in her face?" "Poor soul! She was married four teen years ago, and had a good hus band, the handsomest man in the canton. He was the most famous guide, with a passion for scaling mountains, and he was well-to-do, and once he went on his last trip-that was just before Andre was born. He never came back. He was buried in the snow." "And the shock his death gave her has left its trace on the poor woman's face?" "That .is it. They say Andre's mother heard her husband's voice call ing-and calling for her. Loud at firrt, then more and more faint. She was awakened from her sleep. She came to me-told me her alarms-she had heard her husband cry for help. Three days afterward came the sad news. Her husband had been covered by an avalanche. Then I heard that Elisa had gone to the mountain. I followed her. In a mountain chalet I found Elisa-and by her side was her nev-born son. Her hair had turned gray in a single night. 'Ihen there was stamped on her eyes that look of horror. It is a sad story. The telling of it is depressing. Come, let us finish our cigars by the lakeside." Andre had come home for a couple of days. He was so brown and healthy looking that his mother cried for joy. He would be gone soon, that was true, but would return in October for the whole winter, and then he should read his father's book. He was not an idle lad, had no bad ways, if only she could get out of his head the idea of becom ing a guide like his poor father,' and when this thought came to her, her heart would stand still, and that strange look of horror filled her eyes. In the little house everything was in absolute order. On a wooden bench sat the mother and her sor., she busy with her knitting, and Elisa was silently worshipping her son. He was fifteen now, and so like his father. And now they talked, and the boy said: '"Mother, what with your knit ting and the chickens to care for, and housework, you never can be lonely." The mother started. "Lonely lonely l" She would not tell him how she longed for him-her boy-and then at once that dread look started in her eyes. The fear born with her child had never for a moment lefther. Would her Andre, living on the monn tain top, get an idea that he could not pass his days inthelowlands? Would he become a guide, like his father? It was in the blood. "I had better go to the mountains," Andre said; "the air down here feels close and heavy. It is nice to be with you, mother, but I could not work so well down here." The mother started in terror, rose from her seat, and covered her face with her hands. How had it hap pened? These were almost the very words Andre's father had spoken when he started on his last trip-the sour ney from which he had never returned. Was it so ordained that Andre should share his father's fate? When thetwo days were up, Andre left for the mountain. There came a night never to be for gotten in the villages beside the lake. Old people shivered in their sleep and dreamed they had ague. It was later on that came a booming sound across the lake. "What was it?" Elisa asked herself as she looked out. The atmosphere was clearer. The lake looked peaceful and gray, but the mountains and even the lowest ridge of the hills were white with snow. As rhe watched, the huge pyramids op poeite, on which she knew Andre kept his sheep, began to gleam with silver brightness as the sun sent up light from behind the cloud veil in which he was rising. A heavy snowfall in September! For a moment Elisa could not believe her eyes; but there was no use in doubting them. Presently she heard voices in the gar. den above. M. Wissembourg was talk ing to Hans Christen, the village car penter. "I do not say it was an avalanche," he said; "but it was a fall of. some kind above Schonegg." Christen said something, but she could not make out the words. "Yes," M. Weissembourg answered, "that is what I fear"-he hesitated "well, she need not be told till we are certain," he said. "No, no," Christen spoke in a hushed, awed voice. Elisa felt that they were speaking of her, but she also knew that they could not see her. A fear came lest they might prevent the purpose she had so quickly formed. It had come, thea-the fate she so dreaded for her boy; he lay buried under the n:ow. She sped back to her house and wrapped herself more warmly. Half a mile of rapid walking brought her to just such another little creek as that at at the foot of the grass-grown steps; but here, instead of broken sheds, there was a bathing hut with two boats moored beside it. She secured one of the boats and crossed the lake. She met a villager. "Tell me," shel cried, abruptly, "what has happened? Did the ava lanche fall on this side of the moun tain?" "There has been a snowfall," said the man; "some say a slip of part of the rock on this side, and the chalets up yonder at Oberstalden are buried, and no one knows where the sheep will have strayed to." Further on she came across another man. "Tell me-tell me," she cried; "has there not been an avalanche?" "Yes, mother, and there are some under the snow." "Under the snow-under the snow 1" Elisa cried-and was again on her way. The poor woman would scale the heights. Now, with superhuman efforts, she reached what had been a high plateau, but now incumbered by snow. Here a part of the avalanche had reached. There were men working away in the snow. What were they seeking? All at once Elisa moved to the left where the snow lay thickly heaped. The sun was gaining power over the snow on this side, and as Elisa plunged resolutely into it she sank to her knees, She tried to go on, but this seemed impossible. She felt rooted in the snow. At last, with much effort and long pauses between each step, she struggled forward. She had quite lost sight of the diggers, and, crouching down, she listened. Then a wailing cry sounded over the snow "Andre, Andre, I am here." The terrible cry startled the diggers; they looked round them in alarm. "They are here," sne cried, her eyes glistening with hope. "The men waste their labor on that side; the chalet is here3 and some one still lives the under the snow," "You must not stay," said a man who directed the workmen. "You will peri·sh in the snow, and you can do no good." "Listen l" she held up her hand and bent her head. Truly, it seemed as if there was a far-off, muffled cry. "I will bring the men, but you must come away-- come, do you hear me?" said the overseer. She was stooping down. Now she cried out again, in a wail that sounded strangely sad: "Andre, Andre I I am here I" While she bent down, as if listening for an answer. She was finally drawn away, carriedoff her feet and set down again, where the snow lay only a few inches deep on the ground. The digging went on silently; it seemed to her the men were digging a grave. How far off it was since her boy had come down to her, and she had seen his hopes and how he strove against them for of grieving her I Then Christen came, and maybe he pretended to be rough and cross-only made believe-but he said: "Here is a nice fright you have given us. To think of a sane woman coming up here-and in the way, too," but there was pity in the sound of his voice as he added: "A nice-looking mother you would look, all bedraggled, if you held Andre in your arms, Come with me, Elisa. I command it. You bother the diggers," and slowly the mother followed him in silence. Turning her head as she went, she felt that part of her lay under the snow. A little shelter had been built, and a fire was blazing there. Christen led Elisa there, and she sat down-and she was alone. Oh, the agony of wait ingl I Then there came a sound-a • dull, soft tread-and it came nearer and noeareil. "They are bringing them," said Christen. And then the mother lost for the moment her senses. The agony was too great to bear. The snow still lies on the lower mountains, but it will be there till spring sunshine comes to melt it, for winter is everywhere. It is evening now, and. red light gleams here and there from a chalet. Elisa has just shut the door that leads into the balcony, and she goes back into the room where Andre is laying on a sheepskin in front of the fire. The room looks warm in the dim, ruddy light. "Shall I light the lamp ?" his mother says to Andre. ''You will spoil your sight, my boy, if you read by fire light." Andre catches at her skirt as she goes to get the lamp. "Not yet, little mother," he says; "sit down and be idle a while. I am to begin work to-morrow. Hans Christen says so." She sits down, and then he rises, and kneeling beside her leans his head on her bosom. "Mother dear," he says softly, "I want to tell you something." She smiles fondly at ,him. Ever since the day when she was allowed to bring Andre home exhausted, 1b.talive, it had seemed to Elisa as if life were too full of blcesing, He had been some weeks in re covering from his burial under the snow. "Mother," says Andre, "did you guess that I was keeping a secret from nybu?" Ellis's heart gave a big throb, and the lad felt it as he leaned against her. "You will tell me your secret now," she says, timidly; for as she looks at him she feels puzzled, there is such a gleam of mirth in his eyes. Ad(lre put both arms around her. "Darling mother," he says, "you must not be ha.d on me, I was very childish then, I thought only of my self. I know it Was not kind. I usel to want to grow up fast so as to be a strong man like father, that I might guide travelers across the glaciers." Ho felt her tremble, but she kept her face still, IHe clasped her still closer, and kissed her. "Mother, dear," he went on, "that is all over now. I told you that while I was lying there under the snow it seemed like years. I went on think ing and thinking more than 1 ever thought before. 'This grief will kill her,' I said. 'Precious little mother I she bas suffered so sadly; she cannot stand this.' And then presently I be gan to see how the mountain life I wanted would have been a sad trial to you. Mother," he rose up and took both her hands in his, "I knew then for a certainty I could not be happy while you were sad, and I wondered how it was I had been Eo dull; it all came so clear"-he paused an instant; then he broke into a merry laugh. "You will have me to plague you always now.. I mean to be a carpen. tor." Andre's mother strained her boy to her heart as though she would make him grow there, and he falt her hot tears on his neck.--Macmillan's Maga. zinc. Rights of Tree Owners. Tree owners have some rights.in the trees, even against corporatiod~asit'ichh string wires, remarks the Boston Train script. It might be supposed that all Interested people knew this fact, were it not that the employes of telegraph, telephone and trolley companies so often hack and mutilate trees without so much as asking permission and without incurring any penalty there for. One tree owner in Pennsylvania refused to suffer in silence, and suc ceeded in having inflicted upon a gang of depredators a fine of 850 each. That was no compensation for the dam age done, and even to inflict that pen altycost much more effort, and the following of the case from a lower court to the Supreme Court, where the appeal of the tree hewers that the de struction of the trees was necessary to the operation of the telegraph line was overruled. In discussing the al leged need of more legislation on this subject the Phi!adelphia Press makes the interesting suggestion that indi vidual proprietorship in trees extend to the trees upon abutting streets. The idea is a good one, adds the Tran script, as the trees thus situated are most liable to abuse from the string era of wires. Pigs Attacked by a Python. No creature of the jungles of Java is more feared than the terrible python. A hunter tells of his experiences with one of these huge snakes. "Gunning one day near the Wasli river, in the interior of the island," he says. "I watched a number of wild hogs coming to the water to drink. Suddenly the head of a snake rose above the grass and a hog squealed. A python had seized a full grown one, easily three feet high at the shoulder, and thrown two coils around the body. Under the tremendous pressure the hog seemed to lengthen, and when the snake uncoiled I saw only a strip of meat, nothing distinguishable but the head. I shot the snake. It was twelve feet long and over seven inches through, and yet its coils had crnshed the bones of its prey like chips. There is no doubt that hidden away in vast swamps of the interior are many ana condas of enormous size. Parties have been made up to hunt them, but the malarious climate drives them back." Nicaraguan Forests. The vast mahogany forests of Nio· aragua are almost wholly controlled by Boston firms by contract with the Nio araguan Government. The .export trade in the expensive wood has be come very extensive, having reached 6,000,000 feet in 1893. I BUDGET OF FUN. lU1)IOROUS SKETCHES FROM1 VARIOUS SOURCES. Mi Grandmothtr's Hat-Afraid of the Elsk-At the Concert Quite True-Satisfied, Etc., Etc. bIy grandmother's hat, In colonial days, Was a wonder for poets to siag; :.r grandjaugnter flashes it now on my gaze, At tae play-and I can't see a thing. -Judge. AFRAID OF THE RISK. Carrie-"Jack thinks I'm fickle." Lena--' "That's probably the reason he doesn't propose a second time." Life. AT TE, CONCERT. Maud-"Isn't it grand? She plays entirely by ear." Synecus (bored)-"She must be very deaf."-New York Tribune. QUITE TRUE. Orator-"Mily friends, what is the price of liberty?" Binthare-"Three to ten dollars, according to the judge."-Judge. SHE KNEW WHOSE WORD WAS LAW. "Shall I ask your father, dear?" he inquired, after the worst was over. "Just see mamma, George," she re plied."-Philadelphia North Ameri can. TIME SHOULD BE ECONOMIZED. Mamma-"When you feel angry, you should always count ten before you say anything or do anything." Johuny-"But it takes me too long." A MARRIED MAN, HIMSELF. "I should like to go to my mother in-law's funeral this afternoon, sir,'" said the bookeeper to the "old man." "So should I," replied the proprie tor, as he turned to his desk again. Puack. SATISFIED. Perry Patetic-"They say a man enjoys restin' a whole lot better after a good, hard day's work." Wayworn Watson-"Well, for all I know, it may be so; but I ain't round tryin' any dangerous experiments." Cincinnati Enquirer. SERIOUSLY HANDICAPPED. Freshman - "Isn't young Rush brawny enough this year to play foot ball ?" "Scnior-"Oh, yes; he's all right physically, but a recent spell of fever caused his hair to fall out. "-Judge. NEW WAY TO MAKE A WORLD. Benny Bloobumper-"Islands don't agree with volcanoes, do they, pa?" Mr. Bloobumper-"What do you mean, Benny?" "I read in a newspaper that the vol cano of Bogoslov, on the Alaska coast, is constantly throwing up new isl ands, "-Life. ENGLISH, Y' KNOW, Cholly Nobrane-"Bowkeaby is so original, doncher know. Ethel Endurall-"Yes?" Cholly Nobrane-"At the college declamation contest he wecited "Paul Wevere's Wide" in a monocle, Dencedly appwopwiate, doncher know !"-Puck.. WITH THE CONVERSATION LEFT OUT, Barber (to stranger)--"How would you like your shave? Close?" Customer - "Yes; close-mouthed." And for the space of half an hour, it ,was so still in that tonsorial establish ment that one could almost hear the hair growing on the outside of the sample-bottle of hair tonic in the front window.-New York Tribune. UP ON THE CLASSICS. The savage monarch shook his head. "Nisi bonum de mortuis," he said. "That is, don't roast the dead. I guess you'll have to make it a plain fry." The royal chef de cuisine heard the kingly mandate in silence, as became him. As for His Majesty, it was well understood that he was strongly affected by the inspiration of the classics.--Detroit Journal. COSTLY HOSPITrrALIT, Enthusiastic Proprietor-"What do you think of the new hotel?" Prospective Guest (indifferently) "Rather fine." E. P.-"Fine? Grand, I think. Did you notice the fresco work in the din mg-room and the new furniture in the hall?" P. G.-"Yes, I noticedithem." E. P. (persistently)-"Well', what do you think?" P. G. (gloomily)-"Oh, I suppose I'11l have to pay for them before I leave 1" WINNING A NAME FOR HISELP. The schoolboy was endeavoring to make one or two things clear to his father. "Y'ou see," he said, "its just this way. Every time Willie Jones gets into a fight he gets licked, but he goes around telling every one that he licked the other fellow, and so he gets the reputation of being a pretty good fighter.' The old gentleman nodded to show that he understood. "And that's why we call him 'Gen eral Weyler' "added the boy.--Chicago Post. Ims MATHEMATBICS, Mr. Bad-teacher-"Really, Miss Pedagogical, I cannot teach young Pickaninny anything, he is so stupid, He toes not even know what two plus three are." Miss Pedagogical--_.,peB, ' are too abstract with him work more concrete. Askl 1~ one apple and two apples anil apples are." Mr. Bad-teacher (in the claw " --"Young Picbaninny, what r apple and two apples and threj pies?" Young Pickaninny--,"Bo i 4s big apples? If dey .is, dey i peek. "-Judge. Destruction of Sodom and. Gom The destruection of the oldest' of civilization and culture ip0 Jordan Valley and the Dead Seas tricts, namely, that of the fouro of Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah Zcboim, is one of the fixed f c.rliest tradition, and for the oi geologist the phenomenon present difficulty, as far as it can be trac all. The tragedy was caused sudden break of the vallepy has the southern part of the Dead Se, sulting in the sinking of the si phenomenon which, without;' doubt, was in intimate conned with a catastrophe in nature, or earthquake accompanied by sue sinking of the soil along one or rents in the earth, whereby l" cities were destroyed or "overturn so that the Salt Sea now oo their territory. The view that tb sea did not exist at all before catastrophe, or that the Jordan this period flowed into the Medi ranean Sea, contradicts throug. all geological and natural seie teachings connecting the formatiAo this whole region. That the Pentl at one time was situated in the uot era part of the Dead Sea, whioh now called Sebeha, is proved among other things, by the pro, ' location at this place of Zoarit place which escaped destruc ion iin days of Lot; in accordance, too,'j the writers of antiquity and middle ages, including the Arab geographers. As yet nothing e can be determined concerning: location of the four other ieties, Sodom,Gomorrah, Admah andZeb of which names only that of Sod8 in Djebel Usdum, is found refleoted any place in these precincts; even apart from geological and°-g graphical reasons, this seems to the natural thing, as the book Genesis represents these plases uashj ing been thoroughly destroyed:1 out leaving any trace or remnant.. hind. The fact that now tha. tricts are a dreary waste, and by t Arabian geographer Mukaddasi cal a "hill," is no evidence that in earl times this was not different, and - valley not really a vision of par -Dr. Max Blanckenhorn. *'t Grant's Toilet in.Camp. `. General Horace Porter, i "Campaigning with Grant,"int Century, says: In the night of: 14th Lee began to move troopsto, right. Grant now directed Han0oCE corps to be withdrawn and massedt hind the centre of our line, so tht could be moved promptly in-eit direction. When the _ Gener alf back to camp that evening his lo! were a mass of mud from heid to his nmform being scarcely r nizable. He sat until bed time wI out making any change in his dgl he never seemed partionlarly - moded by the travel-stained condit of his outer garments, but was .rU lously careful, even in the most I campaigns, about the clcanhn his inen and his person. Thei chance for a bath was in having a ' rel sawed in two and using the'hla it as a sort of sitz-bath. During)B of this campaign the General, like staff oflicers, used this method of ing, or, as our English friends say, "tubbing." A[terwards he. plied himself with a portable r bath-tub. While campaign lifei a good school for the eultivati squeamishness, and while the Ge was always ready to rough it iid yet he was particularly modest i forming his toilet, and his tent fr! were always tied close, and the perfect privacy was secured, who was washing, or changing his lel While thus engaged even his s was not allowed to enter his qua While the Candle Burnas,: tWe are all famihliar with the that a candle burns. But pe there are many persons who. ! never realized just wty it burns that a certain degree of heat is sary in order to consume the yF of wax or tallow of which the @1 is made. In the Arctio regions CII will not burn satisfactorily at or low ia temperature of thirty*4" grees C. 'The reason for this it the surrounding atmosphere is aS that the flame is insufficient to' enough of the material for its. subsistence. The feeble heat little more than dielt out a tab space arounl the wick, therefore, flame is small and weak, and times fails together. The ligh closed in a small glass vase, work ter, as the temperature is soih raised by being so confined ands wax melts to supply the flams Ledger. You Will lever Be SorrtY. For living a pure life. For doing your level best., For being kind to the poor. , For hearing before judging.~ For thmnkina: before speaking, For standing by your prinoipl~ For stopping your ears to gei For bridling a slanderous tong~ For being square in busine0s aFor giving an unfortunate lift. For promptness in. keepi8 promises. For putting the best cot on acts of others.--Detroit Fe