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...... MADISONN TIMES.
DI_ :VOTE 1TO TIHE WELFARLi U 3U4D~Ii I'ARIViL - .-- O. 1. TALL(LA-. MADISON .'ARI'I.. LA., SAT'U DAY. APRIL 3o0. 1887. E .... PERI V(L. \'.--N . 13. I 'A L 'A .M D ,'O )~..H .A,: 'Ui .' P~. t! 87 '"IM--It0 PRi~ ..... .. .. .... ·) )· lr3; 'I'R'_"""L() ,m,, • . . ., , .. .. HER BOATMAN. ' It asa mooilit ,ighit. The r7i\er, dat k atl );! l'.en. moved in its rod tcbed ; Rn' gigantict -erpent half )over COu:t I. J letiutrgy of sleet,. Here and : the moonbeams fell ",i..in the surfas e of the water, great 'o;f silvery whlite.ness, amidst, the dark- shadows cast by the ieavy fo 2 ;trof the cedar shrubbery which grew I*t ween the :almost perpendicular rocks oi the high banks. Fity feet above the surfar of the water they reared themeltlvss. and at. one point they jutted forwardl as it to( aliute each other, while the river be neath them deepened and narrowed.. .At this point a brid~te had onceboetn. thrown across-a bridge which had beoome a complete ruie, one timber alone remaining to mark the spot: one lout and narrow beam-it could not have been more than six inches in widtl1--still maintained its pla-e, and in tmut Y~e informed thle stranLir that ouce Sa had beeat connection between Rocky Hill and the mount ains o the other side. 'pon the surface of the riwer there was a small rowboat, corataining a slender, crouching form wrapited in at dark cloak. From the top of the bank upon either side this rowboat would have r been invisible, but it was there, mak. ig its way up and down past the a rocky buttress whicl upheld the beam, ' always avoiding the moonlit spots r ,lon the river., The sounds ot carousal were usurp. ig the place of the quiet of the night, the drunken jest and the coarse laugh ter breaking in upon the sentimental notes of "Home, Sweet IHome"-sung, you would have averred, by some lonely youth who was far front the. scenes of his boyhood--catme plainly' to the ears of this silent watcher upon the river, who, it seemed, could not t tear herself aWay front the sourds I which came from the the saloon u!,on the river's bank. Once only did the moonibeams fall uago her fair, upturned mace. t it wasthe face of a woman who should never have been m that wild, lonely spot, listenint for tthe sound of t Svoice which had grown to adcdress I her with refined words whtch wore the elest of the cruel, waiting there up that lonely river, for-she knew what. ariel Warner was the daughter of i umltl parents. She had sxarried, ' . vry o young, a man whonwehe had sMsh lpd as the embodlmentdf man- d worth and the perfection cf manly s bsasty. Prienl and relati-re had crowded about her with envieus con gratlattons, and for a time aer life ' was perfect happiness. t a change had come. Fred War ar was not what he had seement. On T afew short weeks of happint as, and " t. e hbadsome husband had l dunged io the wildest dissipation. I Friends smasted to her as long as the money lseanld, and then they began to hint that pmhaps Muriel was not alttogeth- t was something which the spir. a i d wife would not stand. She broke with trlatives and friends and clung 9 to the dsipated man who watl her 'a '~s d. From one city to another I1 he had dmagged her with him, anil now I e ba deserted her and she hpt . fol- li lowew him. NH l sm the cultured voice which 1t warbidl of "Home, Sweet Dome," t .!his wife was a penniless, half- c reatture, out upon the river. I1 l*di was penniless, for, regard- c edlIdel or shelter, she had paid oaberlast cent for the use of the b boat which brought her, unsern, yet e mmaer to him. A quick, sharp report broke in.upon h the udlow voice of the singer. ri it rth reportofarevolver. Mu- n 1 mihear the excited abotne, the hemuvteampliag of feet, the banging it Sa ds mgd then the weiul cry, 'A Mafhryed. the frightened worm. k .anLte e4 p her oars, just under p the bea wieh hbad once belonged to Sesound of heavy feet, rapidly ap. el ptroaching. came fromi the bank dose p at hand, and then i dark form rushed n out between her and thie moodht sky above her. ir It was a mian's figure, and he was attempting to cr~oss the river upon I the narrow beanm. $i Excited shouts mand the trampof hur' tI rilel feet followed hint to the river's a trinL-. 'Stop"' shouted a voice. "I ar- et rest you for murder." No replly came from the escaping w faurre, which sped nimbly along its niarow way. a A sharp chorus of revoversl follow ci; shot ofter shot was Srod, and then w the dark ligure wavered, the hands o grasped wildly at the air, and then tl there was a f&il. 51 TLe water deluged Muriel with a showesr of drops a the body entered et lie water. Shout, and the exultant ttrart ing voices bl her ttention until mhe felt. omethig creeping into h1 the boat ihind her. b ) Be turned and uttered a faint Ae'an, and more than likely the re iedr.e had taken possession of so methl e oars,' said a Ntern, ar. . wounded, then?" she ),eh ig a way from thedrip. ne YUot wOOl *" returned the I rowed the il-~5etly the boat was up the ~ - shadows and d mooLt -f-- _onet creut by. entirely oo n a darknegs fell iI river and , a e w of 0! silent. -- ILm an pair ero SThebM h .hIar the ni deleeup ye -uli~ - w 'loser .co Muriel. "tell me what you think about this altair." "I think vou have shot some oun." replied Mlt.rie!. awakening partia:'v from the trance-lke fecelinga which Iiztu crept over her. "You are right. To-night I becanme the nmurderer of Fred Warner." "'Fred Warner is my huhband, and I was on the river listening to his voice," she said, in the satme calm. Stone. "You will listen to his voice rra more. The woman that he broug ht to Rocky Hill is any wife." And then Muriel know the name. of the man who had rowed her boat' ehat Snight. It was Ralph lteseguie, the b anker and the millionaire, whose ihor ie and. happiness her husband had ru.,ned. tShe had never met hinm befc,:e; but she had heard often of his m:neroaity and great wealth. "G(od have mercy to-nibhtia pon four of his miserable creatures," she said, still candy. '"Thr:e." correc'tetd lIese tie. -ri.n ly. "'Muriel Warner. I know the en tire histaury of your life. I lefrne.d it while I was huntin voyour husband down. I ask no sympathy. I have done a deliberate murder. I do not wish ycnuto conceal the n od,' of my escape. Fred Warner ws your baus band. He would lhave return'ed to youl after a time,. I ha ve made t his im po iible. You have neit4her home nor friesds. I have money, the accursed Ott if with which I have hou-'ht my false wife. In a short time I shall he hung for this nmurden. 1 have no relktives on whom to bestow my w' ealth. It will all go to strangers. A crept this packet, then; it is yours to d o with as you think best, and I can not but be thankful for the chanace v hicn has thrown you in my way." A packet dropped into Muriel War taer's !ap as these words werzo spoken. 'The boat rocked slizthtly as the tall figure sprang upon the shore, and then she was alone in the darkness upon the river. After this she wandered about the world, a woman whoselifeand feelings seemed benumbed forever. She knew what had happened at Rocky fHill,but had no desire to return there and eaze upon the dead face of her husband.. She had no wish to return to the friends who had grown cold when mis fortune came upon her. She knew that Ralph Ressecuie had made her a wealthy woman, but she felt none of the sceiples which she once would have felt abont accenting his money. She never spoke of that night in the boat to any with whom shle cam#" in contact. She never heard w;hether Ralph Resseguie was captured or not. She never knew what became of his miserable wife. Her past life seemned ahalf folarotten" dream, and she was only dimly con scious of the reality of anything. At thirty-five years of age Muriel Warner was a beautiful and cultured woman. She had visited nearly all of the countries of the Old World. Ac quaintances she made, but very few friends,and these often wondered when in reply to their inquiries site would say: "I never read a newspaper. I never write nor r'eceive a letter." But her time of awakening cameand the one to stir the dormant emotions of her woman's heart was a stranger and a man. It was at the Bahama Islands wher e she first met Norman Van Ness. He was forty years of age-a Herds le in the fullness of his manhood, and seemed to be attracted, nay, to love her from the very first. Her deep blue eyes soon grew to watch for him, and becanse sott aild tender beneath the light in his dark ones, and with the growth of her ntw love many of the feelings of her yourh came back to her. Father and mother. long forgotten, i became dear once more to her, and oft en she caught herself thinking. "if he ever speak+, and if after I h have told him all, we are ever me . ried, I will get him totake mehoma.to my parents." But hte did not speak. Weeks t, ew into montO-, and the longed-for-lo.ve. sords never came. Muriel's Jleart again began quivering with paio. She knew not that its numbness lhnd dce parted forever. Sometinmes she felt that she wacht to move on; to get away from influ ences which more than likely woaMkl prove saddening to her. but she could: not at once bring herself to do this. While she was debating the s ubj.ct in her mind the crisis came. A storm had been sweeping over I hei Bahamas, a vessel was going to pieces upon the reef. Muriel was out upon the wave-wasted shore, iaereyeshbripht. and her cheeks rosy with excitement. Her golden brown hair had been loos ened by the driviii wiuud, anld she was that rare but delicioiuscreartuis, a womans beatitiful when she is mnatAmre. Norman Vani Nese was Ie her side. and Muriel expressed a wisIh o row out near to the life-savingboats whl ic;h were battling with the waves. and overladen with hitmnan beings whom they had rescued iii ., Isalf dlrownedrl state. "bet me be your boattuan." plead ed Van Nes, antd Muriel could not re press her thoughits which whisl,wevl to her of that long forgotten night, when her husband's murderer had been her boatman. The strong man took his place at theoars. Out over the watuers they rowed together, the dreadful past ri! ing so strong befor, the woman that she had no thought of the mtan no near her. "MuIriel.," said he. in a low voil; "Muriel. Muriel, I love you, hut I have no right to say these words to you. Muriel, have you never thought that I might be Ralph Resqetuieul?" "Can it be?" she said. slowly. "I did not see your face by daylight, you know." "tes, it is I, a married man and a murderer; but still I love you Muriel. "And I love you," shesaid, in a tonew of despair. They were nearing the life-hoats I now, and one of the crew shouted: a "'Van Nes,we cannot go ba* just yet, mand here is a manad woman .ue mo t aeapd ldt Wea t pus li treni in vyort boat, and you can take t l,-t, :a hore." 'i''-'.I haId hid l the dripping . in the hottoin of+Ae b•uat, and ,wi: strong stroke.s al(Ie head l:Ialph I: e-9u1e0 pulikeet- o·'.re. 1 h'I I: thery wert that int' elh:.. for the fig,. John O ulnl' I .den- Sanders is Orleat 4celebrat" * "y God. im\" ild discip)- slong t *'And lFred "V satisftc- hanfgtel, r.ith a thlil of renlrel inll' C: Sp It was true. F .bhs ith not t died, andl t ,r d s fd ltnaoadet these two walltler-. u, :. car are of if tie earhth had Ilen al farce', W'ol• all. t The days. of the gull ty pair on earth werenutnbered. Mabel Itessegqienever r repowerel tconcouslnes. Fred War 1. ner lived a few days, long enough to .apsk the forgiveness of the two he had t wrongedra,t-thlen expired. r IRalph Reaseguie and Muriel Warn', were lmarried and returned to Muri el's r old home, where. in the sunshin.e of happiness. the dark days no their lives were forgotten. The Best Hog Gue .ser. 1 The recent arrest of sev eral farners , by emsusar'iet in the 'jniuldoy of An thony :omsustock, for aldulging in the an amuseent of gutess ~A at tile weightt of a at, hoI,.. lea:ds the "Thunthnai! ' Sketcher" of the Rochester I'nioh to L relate the lollowing story of Hiram I ibley. the we!-known millionair 'of that cit y, wh 0oe benefactions to ('or nell universi y have, been so generous: The best ºhog-guesser western New i Yo rk ever produred is Iliranm Sibley of [Rochester. A well-authenticated incident wictah occurred on a farm near this city a few years ago abund antly illustrate his acumen anti success to ,his direction. lie had lone Sen..eys an enviabl, reputation for ttms titte-honored amusemlent, sand wihen he visited t he farm in question and found a well-dressed porker ready ior the guessing proress, everybody '. was ',leased, "for." said one to anoth er. "here is a man who will get mighty cls;e this 'ere aninal's heft." In short, Mr. Sibley was invited to guess, :and proceeded in due torm and after Sstpproved ceremony to do so. Said weighs exactly t wo-hundred-and sirx ty-one-- pounds- and-a- quarter." SNo sooner was the oracular sentence uttered than stalwart handslifttd the dressed hag front its hook and placed it upon the scales. It weighed 6,61 3-4 -half a pound over Mr. Sibky'sguess! The latter was thoroughly disgusted, exclaiming. "liow could I have been Iso much mistaken?" Iut he proceeded I nevertheless, contrary to his custom, to take another scrutinizing view of the poker. Presently his eyes lighted ~ up with triumph. as he detected a stone in the hog's mouth designed to keep the jaws extended while the car cass was being dressed. "rake out that plug," he said, "and you will find it weighs precisely half a pound." And it d:d, to a grain! His Little Boots. By Will . C'lemnens, in Detroit Free I're. I Up in the cemetery on the hill I I( picked the pebbles front off his grave t and smoothed tile new-made earth with my hand and brashled away some c dead leaves that had fallen there. 1 I think there was a tear dropped on the t Sgrave as I bended over it, and there 1i were little rivulets of tears running I down both my cheeks as I came away r frmIn the lonely cemetery. And I entered the house again. O, 1 how ca iet it seemed without the pat- I ter oahis little feet, and his little cry c of welcome. Ah, my precious one, l pa.~a misses that sweet and tender r grajting. And on the mantel I saw a hlih pair of little boots-the first and if only pair he had ever worn. I put them on the mantel with my own hands the night before he died. Such i little boots: How I looked at them, / and how she has taken them in her 1 hands, and kassed the stiff, black, a heavy-soled things, and shed her tears a upon them. Hlow his little eyes did e shine with joy and happiness when I a ~brought thhenl home! How those red e itops and brightest copper toes en- gi chanted his youthful heart! Then, t, when she nmade his first pair of pants to wear with the boots, hislittle body jo *swelled with ttride: Dear little bootel 'F On the mantel there in silence they i t .seen to speak sweet and tendler a words to me. I love them because he I iwore them. And she !oves them far w mnore thant I, for every mtorning she i y kisses thlenm. and every evening she w wipesaway her tears, with their little si red tops. Oh, dear little boots! The ia kingdotm o the world could not buy w them from nus. They are the sweetest I Smemories iof our dead boy that God nl could give to u-. His little boots! w Evitn now I hasten to the mantel and I touch them again with my roueh en fingers, and the tears are falling thick and fast upon his little boots! t. A Glymnpse of Royalty. tl "The first glimpse I ever had ofl roy alty," says Olive Imogan, "was of ex. Queen Isabella of Spain. I was in the Turkish section of the Vienna exposi- p tion, when I noticed a coarse, fat el derly woman, plainly dressed and vul- f gar in every movement, come wad- h4 dling along. Nhe was shaking all over ii like a bowl of je:ly, and looking keen- w yiv about her with beady eyes, while te behind her walked a youth hardly .t come to manhood'sage. He wore ca a stovepipe hat and a Prince Albert coat. The ex-queen wore a black lace el overdress over black silk. She worea at black lace bonnet with long streamers te of ribbon behind, and a mass or red g roses mingled with the lace, and .-he had sonme very beautiful diamonds in ne her ears andat the throat. She went ne aboult cheapenine everything and ds looking for some Turkish r'e. to buy, feo but she seemed to think that the;rwice H was raised on account of her royalty, hi and in a loud aside in French she wi spoke to her young son, saying that hlie must come there the next morning. sa, wearing a plain suit and a cap, and p get the carpets at a lower pnce. I saw this same queen at theoperasoon after in al the glory of full dress, and - she mad., to mna kinai e* of the -et muelting I ew wit Ise I2 et."~~ bb~~~~ A BlATE RIDGE ROMANCE. The VFirst Iraand talvpes His ,llim. Bat a le 1 bt1aeful Ialghe lIreaL the Crlhalal I.a,. Rakich \ .VC.) etrr. New York Hcrerli. i, 11Al the youth there is no llmore ro manl! UI region thlan tat beyvotd tli Blue l:idge nlmountainls, in this State whelru he wolf a:tl t he Indian yet p: thei- part as inl tih.e days of early set tlentiuzt. IIn Jactkson county a \a-t tract o! land is ownel by the I htre lk,.. i, "eaCtt-rnl hand" of thi . ntn. pow, r:'l tribe ia:t aug there t4iret e tate. fin .l I,- len reto's in a e e"entr: lbf th*-c In a fands a: lattie' sday i SInhlstiet :or: iof he-old n|i't1 lHat "trnth:l :,t .t ii: I i t ;h tiei lj i has<i , r ,i, and N\ t tt i : l'armitlta vanl'yt v miie eI'i: , to a - rt. in reii life mttore rtnlunt it than t;- i tie tl tale of "I linoch Ir denll, o. ,r .'whiclh s li l e.·" n t hal grownt s rlisli sict iieir il , tit. 'Senator Kope Elias ate ihe di.. tinetion Iol eol#n the first ilebr,-w who has \et he llhl a seat in tihe Leic laturt. of North Caroin a Iln ihe early ida- of the century .l+tb llio - ry. at intleer of the .lehwieh rate atnd taitlh, wa ret urned front the old "heir ough'" of( New Berne, but w-s not al lowed tie take. his seat, ith incde lied by an overwheliing vote oi the Legis lature that he was not a "trie he iiever." Henr3 spoke in lhis ouvitn de tense, and his lpeech, lre-palredl for hinm by tihe illustrious tilliatin t(astont, yet remains as a ialodel of eCompositiotn aunli of vigorous protest a.ainlst old prejiudices as to reliaion atn sect. Buit to Senator Elias no such barriers were opposed. He is the Senator from the far Western dis trict, and in that district, which em bractes a territory larger than some of these United States, is .Jakson county, the scene of our iromanie. Seated by a cozy fire the other Inight. in a committee room in the C'apitol, Senator Elia% re'ated the facts in tihe case. He said that in 18i2 a stal. wart lountaineer nuined Ilam. rick, who up to that time., haid l an: aged to avoid the war and its attend ant features of volunteerint or beinc conscripted,brought a bu xom wife with him from Swain county into Jackson county, and made his home in this quiet and lovely cove in the Indian reservation. Months passed. The pair were de voted. The young wife experienced all the delights of a thoroughly prini tire existence. Bat this was not to last. There was a regiment of Chero kees; in the service of the State, un der the command of old Col. Thomas. One day an officer of this regiment returned and found Hamrick in the cove. The latter wasconscripted and hurried to the front. His wife next heard from him in Northern Vixgina. Letters were infrequent, messages seldom came. In 1864 the wife-to whom a pair of twins, a boy. and a girl, had been born-learnel that her husband had disappeared: that after his name on the roll of his company was only that dreadful entry "Missing." In 1805 the war ended, and with its close came to he' the news that her husband had deserted-gone over to the enemy. Year after year passed. The wife kept the vigil of love and wearily waited for the missing husband who never came. There were wooers enough, and "the widow" as she was called in the neigh borhood talk, had what was there considered good offers. One patient lover named Bowers. thrice rejected, pe.rsevered, and in 175 won the prize of his devotion, lHe brought his ei fects to his wife's home in the cove. Ten years more passed and 15886 came. Not one word of the long-lost first husband had been heardsincethe ieturning soldiers brought news. in 1865, of Hamrick's desertion. True as the wife's devotion was to her sec ond husband, she had yet a warmn spot in her simple heart for the first, and an her rude. uncultured way sheI even wove a half-romance ott of the great and apparently unending nays tery of his absemne. One bright day last summer a stan- I ler cameto Bowers' home in the cove. The place was in most respects like it was in 1863, for changes in the mountain wilds are made elowlv. Bowers was not at home. The wife was now a Boxom woman of forty years, far tidier in appearance anIl with much more natural grace and spralghtliness than the average woman in that section. The stranger asked who lived there. He was told "the Boweres family." In a hospitable manner he was asked into the house, where presently came to their another two children, one of six and the oth er of nine years. At dinner time the family received two more additions-a youung lpan and young woman about twentv. tharee years of age, exceedingly alike in faceand manner. The stranger ask ed, "Who are these?""They are latm ricks," was the reply of thegood wife: "my chfildren-by my first. husband.' People in the mountains in many cases love to talk-in fact, are not in frequently garrulons-and in half ani hour the wife had told the story o: her firs t marriae and the deep mystery which had ended it. The stranger lis tened attentively, and just as tlw story was concluded Bowers hismself "ame in. A neighbor crame in and soon learn ed the story too. The w'te buetied about of course, excited. bit not in tears. Hamrck and Bowers talked to gether. The neighbors, after the manner 01 neighbors all the world over, told the news to people within reach, and next day these came to hear and see. A few, very few, had a remembrance of: Hamrlck: not vivid, but faint, for he had lived in that section but a little while, of course. Presently some loquaciols neichbor said to Bowers: "WA ell, what are you going to do about it?" "About what?" was the reply. "Why, about Ihat man IIularick. I Be's vomr wiMo's husband."' u pt sunew faes on the matter. Bowhase mat thought @1 it In that into tears. There were i dozen people an the hous. All were lcistenmng andall look inre with rude c:triosity. The house strn .d cramped. Bow ,ras said: "Let's go outdoors." All 0- W'ent. e No soo 1.1r had they arrived ini the i ard t ,an the wife went to liuwets and threw iher arms about hinm. " .At this 1ia:tev til Intalliness ther,' t was in illutrick cameI to the .surfacet anud 'a.serttd it-elf He said: "lit ti11l You what I'll do. peojple; I don't wI:ti to mtake io disturbance and I'll r" riglhtb:ack w here I canle froml." Tlhat was all lie sai:. The crowdl ihalf lspoke. half nodded assent to the ', lro!tositiotn and plan in one. Hight i.4 tle, under the trees, the matter wis Sýettt ,l.- iiin court tw-iore ia :ur-. !latitrlt k said he was satisfied, :ial, . Ic-lared that this time he woould ut: " nor eLned.'" He told the INopl,l,., his wit,, his children, all good-by. Unly Ie i;a ri itid, not through aniy sei finctnta:lity about the situation,~ but out of ipurt emotion and a desire to I do her titl y in her onn sinal;e wa\. TIure wast, nevertheklss, iin the sit itl:lln. as in the sil'jiect, everythine that tihe most ardent novelist coual'! ui tle-ire, and yet to these people all way it fact. a hart fart, without possibly thet bariet suggestion of sentiment. SlThe neictlllors did not spread the news very much outside their own cis e,-I. and the affair was al nmere matter of neighhlorliood talk. Noonethouglht I that the law would ever step in. But step in it did, in a way just as romnan tic, though just tts real, as everything else. A neiighbor of Bowers' had what in t that country is known as a "falling out" with him, about a cider-preas. Out of these trivial affairs grow quar rels. harsh words, nay, blood-letting e and even homicides, not infrequently. STlhis time Bowers' new-made eneiamy was of atnother stamp of man. lie kr it w of t lie Ha nrick matter, but a few Imontlhs before settled. So last Octo he er he went to the county seat and there gave to the Solicitor or a grand jutiryman the infornmation that Bow. ers was violating the statute by un I htwfully living with a woman. anid that tihat woman had also violated the ;aw in coninmmitting big/amy. Now herer was a situation. Bow Ser-. and his wife were arrested and Ienator Elias. a lawyer of repute in all that region, was sought to defend thel. The husband, who had given bond for his appearance at court, rode many miles after "Lawyer Eli as" and told him the whole story. The lawyer, a man of culture, was 'astonishled at the story thus unrolled tefore his very eyes. Court met and the lawyer used all his eloquence and t persuaiveness. He told the whole story-of the deserted wife, the long vigil of love, the giving up of the first t husband for dead, the remarriage, the return of the long-lost husband, the verbal agreemen t that he should re turn to the far Northwest and all re main as it was. r The narrative had itseflect upon the Srudest minid; but the law had techni cally, unknowingly been violated; it must be technically enforced. So there was a technical verdict of guilty, with a recommendation to the mercy of the a court if the parties lived separate andtl apart. This was Lawyer Elias' chance, his opportunity; he seized it. He told Bowers that he and his wile bad best go out of that neighborhood, and that I they might live together; that the verdict was only technical, and the 1 judgmiient a mere form, and that in the future the law would not again disturb them. They acted on the stugestion. re mnoved to Ilacon county, and now live I there at peace with the world. Only a few weeks ago the son was married, and in the spring the girl will become i a bride. So Senator Elias told the story, a I true story in all particulars, which has I in it all the elements of thefancifuland a unreal, and yet just as true as the fact, known of all men, thatthegreat peak: ot the Blue Ridge raise themselves akyward in Western North Carolina. The SLtrougest Ma on Earth. SThere is a man on the Darson River, below Dayton, named Angels Cor. della. who claims to be the stronitest mI an in the world. Hfe is uan Italian. augel t wetty-eight andl stands live feet and ten inches, weighing 19S pounds. IHis strength grew was born with hiin, for lihe had no athletic trainng, lie differs fromn other men chiefly in the osseous structure. Although not ol uInusual size, his spinal column i much above the ordinary width, aid his bones and joints aret made on sint ilarly larger and generous stale. He has lifted a t man of U-(m pounds with the middle lintger oe his right hand. The man stood with one loot on the floor, his arms outstretched,his hands urasip ed by two persons tobalancehis body. (-ordella then stooped and placed the third tinger of his right hand under the I mana's foot, aand with scarcely anry ner ceptible effort raised him to thehetaht 1 of tour feet and deposited hint on a table near at hand. Once two power ful men waylaid Cordella with intent to thrash him. but he seized one in each hand and hammered them to cetilr until life was neatly knocked out of them. The Methodist "That's So.'" New Yorkl; Tribune. a The old-time Methodist habit o slotititn -Amen" and "That's so i brother-" in chuch sometimes leads tt. ludicrous results. An int'anc - oc-t;lr - redtl recenitly in the Ilansomplae.e M~Ith i i odit cthurch In Brooklyn. The Rev. ;(;eorge E. Ree3l in his sermon was tell ing of the benefits of giving, aid illus Strated it by examples from the Bible. SAn old gentleman frequently interrup ted by shouts of "Amen"' and "Tilhat's t ,so." Tim preacher remarked that sonte persons migitt doubt what It told theu. and say: "Oh, that Colly what Mr. Reed says, and he doesn't know much anyway." Just thea . came the familiar interruption, F "That's so, brother." The house was convuled with lasughter, and the pas tore miled aod maid: "Yoor hae- c i'Ek*** *A* ii **I s ps. ; PICK DAVIS' MAGNETIC TABLE. SPi'lece of urniture on tWhich the oawner WVon Thousands Throwing ytrie. Fr ten years past there has stood in the c ,rlcr of the billiard room of the Iprinci:"al h:utel in this town a rickety Il u'"L-t.t.ii,. writes a Hanford, Cal.. o...' -'.ilent -f 'Ih- Ne-o Fork Sn. It.- a, i'tll-thle-... eau-ed it to remain in .' i. pat-ce during the changes of the hutl s tuuatc orolrictor-hips. It Was a roInd tamhi- covered wa.t an old gray armi}l' bh!'i:l.t. tacked to the edge through a log strin, of leather. At re-,. tlar ditua:Ce,, were four pieces of tnu cium n -hu ni:il down to.- the play er, :., I:v tl.c.ir hghted cigars ot. In l:Ltce' e:ll'r. it: four rudel.-mnadle legs were -o -haky that no one cared to teet .r hi chis on tite table, and it was ch.,tIly 1,-l bh the ~itcsts to throw Il'ohlr "o'.< itti ita'm on when they went to thI r tl aalo. iFor :t lou tilme tile prtio ,.it iropt.tor ilwa)s a tl when he iooklei at tie t:ai,!' thiat Ihe "tit'tiidedi to le':t it uIt lO-imorroitV iandt get at new on., butil!? . htollll'h iw ti was Ito d(onte unti l:ut h?: perhap.s Ilthin onl, because lool,;o be.,ii too tiar their coati o n tImn tl:11., a.nl lher impromptu remarks on Iti' asubject teudtd to complicate malt 'ters. It was :,after :a ouble harreled ex pIlo,-ioni of thli k:n1I the orher day that the pro|l:r.'tor !Iut hkis b:artenoier to cut the o,\'r oli" the table, and make kind. liug-;;tooo.l t thile ca.ed thing. Tihe butlthto-ir aitw p.d out Is knife and bo'.uian to carte the blanket. lie had jult Iide one cu savaue -lash and:l hadl startoll a second when his knife struck something mctalic. He then ripped the (coter off and found at steel plate imile inches lung and six inches wide, whichl wars set uilsh into the tahl],. Tile plite was about a tolot froin the edge and pierced with a dozen holeq. Every one wondered wihat it wai. for. a:ld an old townsman renmemibered that the table was brought th11re from Virginia City years ago anti presumed it was used in the early days to play some kind of crib bilge. When the table began to hbe chioplwd l p a I ght was thrown on the character of thet table; for underneath the top. concealed on a little shelf by one of the legs, were a small battery, coils of wire. and some complicated ma:chinery connected with one of the tinplates. The'e were covered with rut and dotit. Ihe old townsman woke up and re mnembering seeinhi in d;lys gone by a wan named l'ick Davis win $7,000 at dice on that very table. from a cattle man. in about lifteen tseconud besktes packin utip sundry thousands and hun Sl reds at other times from those who were ganmblingly inclhned. Two drinks al-o caused the old townsman to snd mdenly reeolhct that Davis cname down to Missel Slutgii--a.s Hlanford waiq call. ed then--fromn Virginia City with a i li rcputation as "dlip chtcenr." and the boys* cane in from far and near to 1 buck him. It was said that Davis had won over $1u0.000 at dice in the mines, where he was called "'lucky Pick." As li he was not found out in his play he is _alive to-day, but he has changed his name and ownes a big ranch in the San Joaquin vallev. So it is seen that one way to wealth and respectability has been for a "'stre thing man" in the discovery of a magetic outfit to do up people with dice, and not to get caught because he got in his work single handed.. I ------* DIAMOND STEALING. I Feeding Preetous Gems to a Greedy Dot and Then Killnlg he Dog. Although there is a considerable and clever detective staff on the diamond tields. there are those at Kimberly who can outwit the police. at any rate for a time. and so it hIappens that snoh a number ,of stones is annually stolen as to prove at factri in disturbing the market price, says thinmbibrrs' Jouratsl. The e'h:lmtec"s or dtetection are no adoubt groat; lout thhe hop of sei CUring a few hundred pounds by a little pecu lation is so temnpt,:ing that there are al was i hundred. of men at "the game." Some of the thieves-thlat is. the men who steal thie stones they are paid for unearthmg-dlisplay- great ingenuity la carrying away the gems. The business of liamond diving is naturally of a routgh-and-readv kism., and presents opportunities fr fraud which are not I available in other inldustries. When diamond stealing tirst becanlme'a ousi nesi those intr.reted. suspecting no evil, were easil3 chleatei. Stones were then carried away conc·ealed about tihe person of the labor.rs, but as the thefts increased greater precautions were taken to iuistre the dletection of thie thieve'. Some of thie dodges" which havo been resorted to in order to carry disuoomo,!, frooim the digginm s bare been not a little remarkalle. We Ihave olii rooll. Ihoweveyr, for a cam ple or t\o. I 'poot one occasion it isre atell thlaLt an ilgentiouns laborer wrap ptcd thlo -toonJes io na small piece of soft blreasl, thie iior-el bho: mg i',oodiiv snap ped by a dog.. . do was t"arefu llv looketl after tll thie rmine was left be hinol. whe-n it ws rmtth isli killed to obtain t:.w hidoImn .1:..rntom!o whiieh woro. ootlitsaned ill its stoma:th. lk me'tic fowl. havre been tra.med to swal low ;,e -mnaiaer btones,. which have afterwa;rd be"n .nt out of their crops. A parcel of stoloon gem, hiave r en knowlm to havT. l,.llm gou out ,of a well watch.' I lti:iir, I hay n, been in genioul; I ,-:o,:,:n I to the hair of a, horse's ta 1. JFaets Ahlmt Elrop·,es H~ ar. T'lle wars of Eui]roomo. s:lce tlte -ix toauttli centtzr. 0 r.-cito tihe f!:uowiln g table: tars und iSskenl too tILi' :a, qjmaitihtot, ,f terri tory.. ................... . ......... 44 For the Iv ,f tritu ................. * for rrerl-si ..................... 4 Frorn the It.sm -al; n of tIrritr,......... . tin qurh to- of too,,, oro .eorobo_,:t;v' ... . From riIlaus to .rso ... o t .m........ 44 From tnpret rts ol as-:atilutv, to ail amti ... .ll From rivarir in lohlence................. - From eoums-ellst quarrels............. 5 Civil wa.. . ............................... *- *W*..·........***¶·9****** 'I'lo lTeahiugs of (Geology. auo ;uly teache-. us that countless torm- of iti. hsave pasecd away, as far a, wt can ti-l. , fore'v r. SIe. l'e :slail P 'rnd a lh'it eonce hnad had lo,:tl Ii hit at1on on earth have dis t!,pt:earei trot:: the staet,. and have n1ow 1110. It n11'a41. anid not only .c'lst.t and tienera. butt whole orders have cone, leavini only the-ir epitaphl . n t he gtravestones which mark their htt resting places. AnAd yet, side by'. side with this, we are brought face to face with the remarkable constancy of ,t her species. In the Silurian rocks, which occupy the lowest place batl two tl'ambrin anI Luarentian) inttha .eological thronologty, we are tau&i" that "'renains offoramlinW~la, some thelrn apparently identt al with exzis ing form, hate been detecteted in eva& otis piat ,," a'lmid in the cretacuoe rocks some of the foraminifera ate theL same as those now dredged aup from the bottom of tihe ocean. \'olnaIe' of intezresting lore, fasraJ nflt tin a* the ietendls of fairylandortle nm:agic taicu of Arabia. are there writ tetn '1 the, hieroglyphicsi of vaulte' dornw ard haInging -talactite, ofb i bone allt a ,in and inpleipl nts of vs t rild use. The many rac's of nlenwhbo inhabittl t he lhand of ,,rehistoric tiig. apliwar agains on tee scene'; somet of their nuanner of life is revealsd Again they hunt the saimmmoth biow7 anduI bear over the broad plat s and trltouih t'icrk forests. At one tile we sre t heri nusing the dog, tbhei hors.e :l : . i hure for food. Stra ' revotEilnt ions ve takled place in thlS ifwt. 'T'he dat early passed out of fa*. vo', and its y.e ha.s not b,:en revivei The horse wtgun ne'l as food in Homesl Britain and aft cr t h- Englishin vaiy ': it was aifterward forbidden by tht rchir. hbecallse used by the Scan ' It: vititls in honor of their god Odin; now it is urs111 i Francet' and other tries. Th'l1 Britons, however, w not eat t e hl.r---it was jekl to ,nlawi,,il to do so. 'Thle rVi lhnd of time 1ha1s tanged this, 8oU now atccept the hare as lit for food. 4. Even the rude artists of thoseI t1\ e tinmes when man was ai cavo-dwi er, have left us specimens of theirsklll In the caves of D6rdolone, in theassot of Franc'e, are found horns and boou with spirited carvings of reandeer, son, ubex and birds done upon tfiiSi One of the mlost interesting of t relie.s is the portrait of at mammo carved on a tusk of the sam fr the cave of 1laon Madelaine, in ogne. Siniple a these artistic attei are', they tell its that man wa" et togetiher uncivilazed. This must admitted. even if we regard th s ings as the most advtpnmid astL day, which tperlnaps, we have n"' to do. What part of the artol will be recorded in the stony geological future? Not the h assuredly; and so it may have been the past.--Chambers's Journal. - ----·- 0 --. An Old-Timne Doetor. The Waterbury (Conn.) A thus talks about an old-time England doctor: Dr. John I). Meers of Nausatoek widely known as one of the most ful and sucessfeul physicians of time. His practice aniongthe was quite extensive, and it was custom to take his pay for servfois the produce of the farms, seldom never keeping accounts or making charge, but sending for a buebsl potatoes or corn or a barrel of as he happened to want it. on the far mera were always at sight, for he used to say he not intend to overdraw," and, m families in those days were larla the children iquite as likely to be then as now, it is quite likely that paid in his way for all that he efoWI el. He was always very ears e alat to injure his uatients and a · very little nedicine, b'tt, if calledti= see a nan who was a little *oto.. sorts. would prescribe a diet of toasg and cider, or something equally sah: ale, and leave nathure to effect a e was oncn called to see a man wba had been in btred several days, and, g entering the room, he sat down, stulkI his long leus under the bed, move_, his lpectacles to the top of his b head and sat and told stories for a(s hour. He tlat; sent onle of the bos to draw a ,gluss of cider, which dlrank. and ntade his preparationo Pt. leave tie liouste. Thle a.ck man if he wa,, noIt goinS to 1lrescrlbe feV'., huim, or cive him Fomethint to take. "Oh, yes, y.vs, -es." replied the dos tor; "'you just ee.t i, and stir ablsoI a littl., an(d wash tip and put onl cletan, shirt land ,ou will be al r-ltl I guess." Notwitdhatanding thedoetm' E ;.eculiarities in slurh lcases, he was on of the most earetul and devoted Iph." siciarns ot da ngerouc illness, and womd oftel, l apipear. unsolicited and u -me' ectced in the sck room long after mkli night. sogreat was his anxiety for the welfare of his latients. As thefSpirit Wings ItsFllght. Pars Letter in Scienre. At a recent meting of the Academy of hcienees. MI. l-ayem. of the Medical clhool. rt.ad a paper on the phenom. 1-na ,ott ilcl thhe hid of an animal u!lter dea1,'t:,tion. \ith or without tran-fusioti of fresh blood. As soon a I the head is senarrated from the body tlh.' eyes move convulsively, and a look of wonldfer and anxiety isnothe able on the tf:t.. Tthe. jaws separate" with ;orc,.. ali the tongue seems to i,· in a ttanri. '':te. 'rhare appeas to h, 5ome , '(,,rious..is of what as zoaing on, tit this does not last more thiat three. or four seconds. If prep. rationlls iave prleviously hetrna-de - , thitt the heirt after S[larlion cO'lo "it.|es to rec-ive, a fresh supply ,, blood. tlhe voiutitar!' tmanifesttttion. p *.,t u. lotiz a th lo)huod supply i4 sticient-that i' for ha~lf an hour t.r so. When a blood ,ttl.pply isfurnrst,| after the ha]-:tl has beconle entirely luotioaleans, t lie pietoZOl:(e'nt aire as o lows: t,,mie'otitractii,. \ery weei an feehble, taike place espec'aily in the tlnu.hles of tlw' lips,; thet sonle 'respiraL . tory efforts; reflex actions of the r first weak, then well marked, but eeiids remia droovig t we see aeleg ad i ib'l'