Evening capital., August 19, 1884, Image 2

About Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910

Image provided by: University of Maryland, College Park, MD

                
EVENING H CAPITAL
Am Im4*mtrm4emt Wmwmthr Journal.
w7 TT. Pubiuher .
Akxapolih, Md.
SELECT SIFTINGS.
More frogs are eaten in New York city
than in all of France.
A sweet potato exhibited at Crawford, *
Ga., measured four and a half feet in ;
length, and was from ten to fifteen inches
in circumference. It grew almost straight }
down three and a half feet in the |
A California newspaper recently con- j
tained an article on the subject of the in- *
crease of insanity in that State, and the
writer's explanation of the increase is that
a free use of fiesh meat by emigrants ;
previously used to a vegetable diet causes j
the trouble.
Lizzie Compton was a sprightly Cana
dian girl, sixteen years of age, who,
dressed in man’s apparel, enlisted in the
seryice of the United States during the
civil war. She was in seven different
regiments and participated in several bat
tles. She was severely wounded at Get- j
tysburg. On account of the discovery of
her sex, she was many times mustered out
of the service.
A tradesman in the North of France,
on opening a money-drawer, found
scraps which, on examination, turned
out to be the paper of the Bank of
France. Five notes of a thousand francs
each had been apparently destroyed, and
it was ascertained that the culprit could
only be a mouse. A trap was set to
catch the thief, the remnants in the
drawer were carefully collected, and an
hour later the nibbler was taken, Im
mediately the mouse was taken to a
veterinary surgeon, put to death and dis
sected. Its stomach contained the un
digested meal of paper. The pieces were
matched and gummed together.
In his late book on Guiana, the
scientific traveler, E. F. M. Thurn, tells
us that the natives of Dutch Guiana
find means to tame nearly all the wild
animals of their forests, not for love of
pets, but for profit. At one Indian house
the writer saw parrots, macaws, curras
sows, sunbirds and many songsters.
Captive monkeys are abundant in some
settlements; deer of two sorts are some
times tamed, as well as jaguars, tapirs,
quashies, peccaries, labbas, water-bogs
and agoutis; a long list of birds of
prey and wild fowl; and even that great
edible lizzard, the iguana. The natives
even know how to change the color of
parrots from green to yellow'.
A Shower of Booties.
Men who go down to the sea in
ships most decidedly do see some
strange sights, nor are the yarns they
spin a whit less strange. No exception
to the rule of sailors is Commodore Tem
ple, of the United States navy, who,
one night not loag ago, sailing on the
vasty deep, heard a pattering as of a
heavy-rain falling on deck. He got up
to reconnoitre and found hhnself as
sailed with missies on all sides, which he
at first took for hail stones, but which
proved to be beetles. The commodore
was so disconcerted by this that he
'‘piped all hands;” but, as our contem
porary from whose columns we read
this marvelous tale says, the men no
sooner came on deck and got struck by
the flying beetles then they bolted in ter
ror. The captain determined to have
the matter out, though his face was
well-nigh pounded to a jelly, beside
being bitten and stung. He discovered
that he was sailing through the midst
of a shower of beetles, which seemed to
fet thicker every minute. In fact, the
ring storm got so dense that he was
unable to see a pipe lighter when he
applied it to the ena of his meerschaum.
The insects swarmed down into the
cabin and engine-room, and completely
stopped the machinery. After an hour
of this sort of fun, the storm passed 1
over. It was then found that the bee
tles, which were not much bigger than a
grasshopper, covered the deck in a solid
mass to the depth of two feet, while the
yards and shrouds were smeared with
them, smashed to a sort of yellow paste.
It was fully a day before the sailors
could quite rid the ship of them, and a
large shoal of fish swam behind the ves
sel, waiting to swallow the “squasb
bugs” as they were pitched overboard.
Petrified Forests to he Utilized.
The petrified forests near Holbrook,
Arizona, have been purchased by a com
pany. They havo commenced the ship
ment and manufacture of the petrifac
tions into tablets, tiles, and various onia
mental articles in building mid finishing.
In this connection the Prescott Mine*
has the following, “Governor Tritte in
forms us that while in San Franciscc
he inspected an establishment recently
started for the cutting and polishing ol
petrified wood taken from the wonder
ful forest of petrifactions existing along
the line of the Atlantic and Pacific in
this Territory. The parties engaged is
this work state that the petrified wood
is rapidly driving California onyx from
the market as a material for fine mantels,
etc., at it is susceptible of a much finei
polish and is also more permanenPane
lasting than that of the onyx. Seven*
companies have already been formed foi
the purpose of getting possession of por
tions of the forest by pre-emption, etc.”—
Virginia City (Nev.) Emterprue.
There an now in the employ of thi
government 800 persons sufficiently ad
vanced in the science of meteorologies;
observation to be able to tell what to
monow will brine forth in the wy o
ll hen My Ship Comes In.
Sammer and winter aiw one to me,
And the day is bright, be it storm or shine,
1 For far away, o’er a sonny sea,
Sails a treasure reseel, and all is mine,
f see the ripples that fall away,
As she cleaves the azure Waves before;
And neater, nearer, dayjby day,
Draws the happy hour when she conies to t
shore.
“But what if she never comes?” you say.
“If you never the honor, the treasure, gain?"
It has made me happier, day by day,
1 It has eased full many an achinit pain;
It has kept the spirit from envy free,
Has dulled the ear to the world’s rude din.
I Dh? best of bless ngs it’s been to me,
j To look for the hour w hen mj ship comes in.
>p —Edward 8. Rand.
A TERRIBLE NIGHT.
______
“Ah, sir, I see you’re admiring my
lowers. Well, they are pretty—that
they are—though I doubt as some
would call the marigolds and carna
tions common and old-fashioned. You
ion’t see many of ’em now in your fine
lew-fangled gardens, do you? It’s a
pretty little place this, ain’t it, sir?
And it’s my own, too— my very own—
md will go to my grandson after met
He’s a good lad, he is— it’s him as looks
ifter the garden. Mighcy fond of
flowers he is, and rarely proud he’ll be.
I know, when he hears as a fine town
gentleman has taken notice of ’em!
Ah, I was fond of gardening, too, in
my time! But I’m getting an old man
qow —eighty-five I am come Christ
mas —and I can’t expect to be spared
much longer, though I’m hale and
hearty yet, thank heaven! Ah, times
have altered, sir, since my young days!
For the better, you say? Well, things
are grander *iow than they were then,
but somehow I seem to like the old
times best, perhaps because I was
young and strong in ’em. And talk
ing of old times reminds me of some
thing that once happened to me. Like
to hear it, sir? Well, so you shall, and
welcome, if you don’t mind wasting
an hour or so with an old chap like
me. Sit down, then, on that bench
and make yourself comfortable.
“You’ve been to Chelmsford per
haps? Then maybe you know the
‘Saracen’s Head ?’ Well, close to where
that now r stands there used to be an
old inn called the ‘Swan.’ A queer
old place it was, to be sure, with its
casement and windows and overhang
ing gables. I was living at Ralphan
then- -its nigh upon sixty years ago—
a farmer I was, and had been married
only a short time to a dear little wife
as I loved well and true till she died,
poor lass!
“One cold December day I started
for Braintree, to look at some stock as
I thought of buying. As it was a two
days’ journey, I meant to stop at
Chelmsford for the night, and go on
early the next day. I didn’t leave
home till about two, and I had a weary
road to travel, so that the darkness
came on before I reached the gibbet on
the edge of the common; and I can
tell you my flesh craw led, as the say
ing is, when I galloped past at full
speed. It was a bleak cold night, and
the road was bad, so that it was late
before I rode into Chelmsford.
“I put up at the ‘Swan’ —that being
* the first inn I came to—and was standr
ing watching the ostler rubbing down
my good did mare—for I always at
tended to that first thing—when, the
landlord came slowly out to me; he
was a short, sharp-faced man, with
great black eyes that had an uneasy
sort of look in ’em. I told him Fd
had a long ride and was glad enough
to get safe into his yard—for I*d gold
about me and we’d heard, horrible
tales of the robberies and murders on
the King’s highway. Well, he showed
me into a long low room—the kitchen
it was—with a brick floor and a bright
Are burning. /
“ ‘There's a noisy lot in the parlor,
sir,* said he; *you*ll be quiet and eosj
here, for maybe you’re tired and chilly
after your ride in the wind.’
“I ordered a steak and, as I ate mj
supper, I thought to myself that ]
couldn’t well have chosen a bettei
! place than the ‘Swan’ to atop at
\ After I had finished 1 called for pipe!
and grog and sat by the fire with th<
■ landlord, but I might as well turn
* been alone for he never spoke a word
1 but sat staring into the fire with i
wicked look in his eyes that I didn*
I Ike, though I didn’t take much notic
of it then. Ah, I know now what hi
i thoughts were as he gazed moodily in
\ to the glowing coals! He was thinking
L of the disgrace brought upon his nam
by his only son, and wondering wher
the ußoney vrss to c^^me
must be procured somehow if his hoy
was to be saved from ruin. And then
no doubt he planned to murder me
I ah, it’s all true, sir—l've got his con
fession by me now—and bury me
! down by the riverside, in the meadow
behind the stable. Then he meant to
turn my mare out before dawn so that
j the servants might think I had left
early; and then, you see, when it was
| found, people would think something
had happened to me on the road to
; Braintree. Well, my companion ;
; roused himself after a time and began
asking me what I thought of the coun
, try, if I had ridden far, whether I had
; been advised to put up at the Swan,
and such like questions. I answered
them freely enough, never supposing
that he asked them for any other pur
pose than just to keep up the conver
sation. I asked him to call me early
and he promised he would do so.
“ Til do it myself,’ said he, ‘for the
girl and the ostler will be abed.’
4 *Then he called his wife and t&d
her to bring me a candle, which she
did. She was a coarse-looking, care
worn woman, and I noticed when she
showed me to my room that her hand
was shaking, and her voice sounded
thick as she bade me a civil ‘Good
night/
“My bedroom was a long low room
with queer , old furniture, quaint
carved chairs and a great four-post
bedstead which seemed as big as a
hearse. There was no lock to the
door, and the bolts were rusty, so I
could only put the latch down. I
thought of putting a chair against it,
but that seemed childish and no pro
tection after all. The night was wet
and windy and the sky black as ink.
Try as I would I couldn’t get to sleep,
and there I lay listening to the ghostly
tapping of the ivy leaves against the
window, and thinking of the evil look
in the landlord’s eyes, and all the hor
rid stories I had ever read came
crowding into my mind, when sudden
ly I started up in bed, wide awake
enough, for I heard something or some
one climbing up the ivy to my win
dow. I lay with palpitating heart and
straining eyes, listening to the horri
\ ble ghostly rustling which every mo-
ment sounded nearer.
“Suddenly a thought struct me; and
( I arose, hastily smoothing; the bed
clothes, as though the bed had not
I been slept in. I had just time to
f creep under the bed, when the-window
j was shaken open, and somebody softly
slipped in. It was a moo, and, listen
j. ing intently, I heard him sigh wearily
to himself, as if he were tired out.
Then he got into my bed, drew the
. clothes over him, and in a fe%v; min
' rates I heard him snoring. You can
5 imagine how pleasant I felt, and the
r scamp had my money-bag under his
pillow' too! What was to be don%? I
thought of my happy home and the
dear little wife now perhaps dreaming
of me and the thought of her gave me
k courage. I determined! to snatch at
wj money and fight fork, with)the un
} seen visitor to the death, if need be. I
was crawling from under the bed,
when I heard another sound} nearing
the door this time. In a minute the
t latch was quietly lifted* the dbor gent
ly poshed open, and I saw the-landlord
Y glide into the room. Then, a hand
6 holding a candle stole in at the door—
" only a hand; but I knew those- qniver
r ing fingers well enough. The man
L crept on tiptoe to the bed. and; leaning
k softly over the sleeper, stabbed him
t to the heart. There was one deep
3 groan and all was over. The murder
% er drew the money from under the
I pillow and crept stealthily to the door,
glancing behind? him: as though he
t feared the dead man would 1 get up and
follow him.
; “Shaking all over and with hair on
j end I crawled from my hiding-place,
j groped about the room for my clothes,
and, after standing a moment, dazed
y with horror, folio wed the guilty couple.
I Their room was almost opposite mine,
T and I could see the light under their
l door, which was barely closed. I
s pushed it open and peeped in. The
e table faced the door, and there they
8 stood with their backs to me. so intent
I, upon the money that I crept close to
a them without being heard
’t ** ‘Look, look,* I heard the man whis-
per—‘there is more than enough to
is save our boy. ikow they shine! And
i- all ours, wifeA-oarsn
g “ ‘No, mine, murderer!’ I shouted
i© with a voice of thunder, mid, snatch
re ing the bag from his nerveless grasp, I
hand and fled back swiftly to the room
where the dead man lay.
“Opening the window, a groped \
about with one hand for an ivy bough, ,
clinging somehow to the sill with the j
other.and at last /nanaged to scramble ]
down, reaching the ground bruised, 1
shaken, breathless. As I rested a mo- ( <
ment to get my breath,* l heard from |,
the room above an awful cry sung out i
in a woman’s voice—
“ *My boy, my boy, my only son/
“I clambered over the gate which
led into the street. A watch-box
stood close by in the square, and I
hurriedly told my story to the watch
man. He stared in hoiror, as well he
might, and wanted to fetch his mate;
but I told him we were more than a
match for those we should find at the j
inn, so he came with me. A frighten
ed servant opened the door to us, and I
led the way to the room I had just
quitted. The watchman bent down
and peered into the dead man’s face.
“ ‘Ah/ he whispered, ‘it’s as I feared!
It’s their own son—they didn’t know
ha was home, and so thqy mistook
him for you, sir/
“I felt myself turn queer and giddy,
for I knew the meaning of that pitiful
cry, ‘My only son!’
“And what of the murderers? They
had not so much as tried to escape, and
the door wasn’t even barred against
us. The woman lay moaning on the
floor; the man sat huddled up in a
chair by the bed. When we entered
he held out his hands to be manacled
without uttering a word. When I
told him how it happened, that his son
had fallen a victim instead of me, he
just stared in my face and made no
sign that he heard the ghastly tale.
“Well, sir, that’s about all The
mother, poor soul, died raving mad,
and the man was hanged at Tyburn;
but not another word did he speak
from first to last, save once—and that
was when the Judge passed sentence
on him. Then he raised his head, and,
with a look in his eyes which I cab
never forget, he said—
“‘An old, old mem, my ford—my
only son!*
“That’s all, sir. The strangest story
you ever heard? Well, I daresay it is; j
but it's all true, every word of it;, foi
I’ve got the papers to prove it, and;, if
you’ll be pleased to come in and see
’em, you’ll be welcome a3 flowers in
May, that you will! Not now? Well,
then, I’ll bid you good-<Jay, and thank
you kindly for letting me talk to you,
for it does mo good to chat a bit some
times, that it do! Good day, sir, and a*
pleasant walk to you!”
-
Bismarck's Mysterious Care.
Stout people would no doubt be glad
to have further information as to the
method by which Prince Bismarck has
at last got rid of his superfluous flesh
For a dozen years the man of blood
and iron has been afflicted with al
sorts of maladies* more or less directly
traceable to tote excessive corpulence.
Count William Bismarck, the prince’s
second son, was*, like his father, long
troubled by obesity. One happy day
literary friend introduced to him acer
tain Dr. Schwenninger, a Bavarian,
who claimed to- have hit upon a regi
men which was %n infallible cure for
fatness. Count William placed himsell
unreservedly in the hands of the Hien
Doctor, and in a few weeks had lost his
superfluous bulk. Thereupon Dr
Schwenninger was summoned to-the
Chancellor, whom he undertook: to
cure, as he toad cured his son. At the
and of seven or eight weeks Prince
Bismarck weighed sixty pounds less,
and he now looks upon himself ae
cured. He sleeps long and tranquilly
he is at his desk at 7 o’clock in the
morning;, he takes long walks which
wduld fatigue a young man, and, after
ten year’s absence from the saddle, he
is now able to ride. AJI this is pro
digious ;but what is Dr. Sch Wenninger’s
mysterious regimen ?—St. Jamesf Go
j Zettfi.
j After the Honeymoon.
“Don’t neglect to order the
flour.**
| He—“No; where’s my hat. Oh,
' here it is; bye-bye***
“Wait a moment, George* nsven’t
you forgotten something?”
“I guess not.**
“You forgot to kiss me*”
“Oh, no; 1 kissed you.”
* “When?"
* “Last week.”—Coil '
i The thirty-eight Statee of the Union
- contain 2299 counties. Texas leads ofl
l with 151. and Georgia follows with
Inventions f or the sick * 1
The sick have not been negi m
the progress of mechanical i n * '
and there are many
for the comfort of even the
less invalid, says the New York y
There is a great variety of
structed: to meet all sorts of lna )
and to sustain the body inanv r "
position, or in many positions,^
are self-propelling -that i s , Ca^
moved about a room by the i QVall *
generally with hand motion
various ways. They are
prices. The most expensive y
chairs cost about S2OO, but verv -
fortable ones may be bought
as sls. At all the large railr*
stations wheel chairs are kept to
commodate invalids who may arrive,
the trains, or for use in ( > as e 0 f
dent There is a curious wheel, t*
made for the use of an invalid hav*
command of but one hand and one *
Many outdoor chairs forself-propufcj
are made, so that a person of ordin
strength can go six miles an ho*
During the Centennial Exhibitions
valid wheel chairs were much used h
well people who could not endured
fatigue of incessant walking
the long halls. The same chairs ar
be introduced at the coming Expositi*
at New Orleans.
An apparatus called the Alleviate
is used in many hospitals for raisb
sick people who are extremely senstj*
from their beds. It is much liketfc
method of slinging cattle or hor*j
when they are put on board ship, ft,
patient is lifted in a canvas sling &
held aloft until the bed is mack ®d
aired. Any one who has ever lif’ft
sick person in bed will appreciate tin
value of such a contrivance. Thtni
a very convenient apparatus .sometime
attached to bed springs that war*
the patient to be lifted easily toapar
tially sitting position. A good sutot
tute for this is an adjustable bed due
back rest, which enables the putießtk
recline at at any desired angle. Ai
other convenient thing for the m
room is a chair with handles atticli
so that two persons of oidinary strragft
can carry a patient up and down staa
! There are many varieties of artM
limbs, some of the legs being parti*
larly good substitutes for the genaix
For the treatment of spin J affect*
and shortening *>f the extremities .■
very ingenious appliances are m.
For people with weak legs there i
wheel crutch, which enables the pt#*
to go through the motions of walk*
This is often used to teach children
walk, and prevents their falling rrJ
• they are learning.
, For confirmed invalids who lie
forty years or so there are many *
venient knick-knacks, such
desks ami tables, which are so
that they almost make a weil
, wish to be sick for a little while
east. —British tfediral Journa 1 .
The Farmer.
It does one’s heart good, say- *
'! change, to see a merry round *
farmer. So independent and ft*
free from vanity and pride; so- J
yet so industrious; so patient and i*
severing in his calling, and yet '
sociable and obliging. There a.
thousand noble traits about hi9 f
ter. Eat and drink with him a® .
won't set a mark on you, and
out of you with double compoun
terest, as some people I know
are welcome. He will do you
r ness without expecting a r ‘ ‘
way of compensation— it isn 1 .
* everybody. He is usually ro ,rt . f
and sincere, less disposed to
“ jow and under-handed cunn |“^ #
1 many I could name. < 0
riety its best support, its I,r l '
that supports the edifice of g f
\ —he is the lord of nature.
. him in his homespun and
at him if you will, but belief •
laugh back if he pleases.
I •
Statistics concerning the
, Mont Blanc are given as
first ascent was made in
t 1786, by two
the 90 years from H' J
fewer than 535 ex P e<llt *'’T’ tbP bis*
of 661 persons, reach & #
point. Among the [ erf£o< t*
ascended Mont Blanc • , " v, $
110 French, 70
mans, 30 Swiss, 8 Italians*
6 Austrians, 4
I Duch, 1 Swede, and one '
& The number of vl( ’ tin1 * uj|kjß
J Mount Blanc amounts to