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BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON.
The Sport of Turtle Turning. The Inoffensive sea turtle leaning against the walls of a restaurant, with the ominous sign "to b.» served this day" hung about its neck, but faiatlv suggests the excitement and series of adventures that have often led to its capture and humiliation or the activity and lift* that characterize its move ments in its natural element. It happened that the writer was once on a reef in the Mexican Gulf during the turtle season, and one day the beef in our laider having given out ami fish being monotonous as a regular diet, a turtle hunt was proposed. It was a little early io the season, but our cook auci general factotum bad seen "signs." so it was believed that a night or two would be productive in spurt as well as meat. Four kinds of marine turtles were found in these waters— green nnd loggerhead "to the manner born," and attaining a weight of from 700 to 1000 pounds; the hawk -bill, -I'--- rarely attained a weight of over twenty, and the big leather or ocean turtle, seeu only on rare occasions. These with the burrowing gopher on some of the keys constituted the representatives of the tribe. The green and loggerhead turtles were the objects of our search, and one clear moonlight night found us rowing to Log gerhead Key, about five miles away, the oars of the big boat bending beneath the powerful strokes of the black crew, who Fang a curious song that accorded well with the sound of the oars and the sparkle and flash of he waters. Loggerhead was a narrow strip of sand, about two and a half miles in length, that reached out toward Yucatan from the Florida peninsula. On it is the tallest light in the United States, a shaft that rises like a Cleopatra needle out of a desert of sand, cactus and bay cedar. As tbe boat crunched on the sands the keeper came down aud cave us welcome — a man who sees a human being once in three or four months, or whenever the lighthouse steamer gets around, and who .in the meantime has the crab**, birds and wife — if he is fortunate in having one — as companions. Tbis keeper was ble->sed in that way, or, as he told me, he would surely have gone mad at times, and we soon found a welcome in the ample brick house that the Government bad provided. ii was said that the keeier bad found me pirate's gold, and that he only re tained the position to develop some places regarding other treasure. When this was suggested he laughed and said he wished it was so. The island was undoubtedly the head quarters for many pirates in the old days, and in examining the reef the writer once found *an old cannon bearing the Spanish coatrof-arms. It was in very shallow water uear au island and was possibly Lost in an attempt to fortify the latter; the channel here was very circuitous. On a key not ten miles from Loggerhead the lighthouse-keeper of the central island of tbe little group found some gold washed out of the sauus, ruing to the reports, amounting to over 520,000. and there are legends galore regarding the islands. After enjoying the hospitality of the 'keeper and letting him see and hear us talk, we betook ourselves to the beach, that was a pure white sandy belt extend ing around the entire island to a width of about fifty feet, when began the bay cedars and cactus that constituted the trees of tne island and served as a protec tion to innumerable sand and soldier crabs, gulls and their young. Along this beach we took our stations in parties of twos about 2000 feet apart, and A TURTLE WALKING OFF WITH A WOULD-BE TURNER. scrapiog out places in the coralline sand, that was still hot from the baking sun, be gan the wait, each one taking turns every half-hour in patrolling the intervening 1000 feet, so that -the entire beach was guarded. My watch fell with the keeper, who regaled me with many a yarn about the island and the strange things that had happened there. One of his predeces sors went mad from tbe solitary life, took possession ol the light- tbat rose like a needle from the key and defied tho world. For ten nights the light did not shine, and the keeper.upon seeing the boats appioach ing the island, took to the light, locked and barricaded the lower door, taking his station on the outer railin?„after hav ing also shut the upper door, which led into the lantern itself. There wag nothing to do but batter the doors down, which the soldiers did, then making their way out upon the outer walk. But the keeper was .not visible; be had evidently hurled himself over the awful height that had .templed men with well-balanced minds. One of the men leaned over to look, and just then came a fierce scream of defiance from far below. Running to the other side, where the lightning rod passed down, the men saw the. maniac clinging to the rod and descending, hand over hand— an • impossibility under ordinary circum stances. In this way' the mad keener reached the ground and was finally run down in the bush. Here my comomion touched my arm and silently pointed seaward. The moon was fall and cast a brilliant silvery beam across the smooth waters, and directly in It on the shore, where the waves fell lnn-icallv on the sand. I saw a glistening object It gradually Increased in size until the broad back of a turtle came In sight and it. began its labored ascent up the "bench. It was about one hundred feet below us, and we could distinctly see its movements. On leaving the water it raised its head, uttering a loud hiss and gazed about for several moments, evi dently to see If the coast was clear, and then began to ascend the slight incline, • making but glow headway. Finally n reached our level, where we were crouching low, and began to dig, evi dently using its hind flippers. In twenty minutes it had excavated a hole and had 'begun todeposit its eggs. It was then that 'we made our rush, springing from our hot 'beds of sand and reaching the turtle before c it realized what was the trouble, and then, either stupefied with surprise or because 'It-was laying, it did not move until we had laid violent hands upon It, wheu it began to scramble lor the water. It was a green turtle, of the largest size, a good lift for two men, and "while it struggled and threw its flippers about it was almost impossible to hold i. I ran at it and lifted it a foot or more, but a *■ weep ing blow from one of the fore- flippers forced me to drop it. Then we rallied and lifted together, and had the animal almost on edge when it. doftiy lifted a flipper full o. sand and drove us from the field. .kacb repulse of this kind brought the ! turtle nearer the water, for which it was headed. Finally our shouts, partly of laughter, partly for help, brought aid from the next parties, and while one man headed off tbe huge animal, prying it back with an oar, three seized it, lifting on one side, and one on the other, and after several attempts, duiiog which the turtle left its marks- ou its enemies, it was rolled over on its back, having made a gallant fight, and oniv gave up when six feet from the water. The turtle was manacled by cutting holes j in its flippers and tying them together, and after it had been hauled up into the bush- | line we took our places as before, and be- j gan another wait. Every few minutes one i of the party would go down to water line i and follow along to the, next station, and during on*- of these trips I noticed tracks, which looked as though some one had crawled up the beach on all fours. : TURNING A TURTLE. Following them up on the run I came upon a loggerhead, just over a depression in the sand, fairly falling upon it, where upon It turned with a loud hiss and began to scramble over the back track. My ef forts to turn it were brushed aside and in desparation I seized the reptile by '.he shield at the back of the neck and held and shouted, while being dragged at no snail's pace toward the water. I was fairly lying on the animal's back: and sud denly, with an inspiration, threw myself astride of its back, placing my feet against the sand and so brought it up for a mo ment to a standstill. This was for the time a success, but seeing my boots con veniently near its head the turtle made a vicious snap at them and the next mo ment I was dragged into the water, thrown violently from my steed, a long wake in the moonlight telling the story t > the little group who had gathered too late on the sands. In the course of the night five turtles were captured by turning and several es caped. Thu difference between the green and loggerhead turtles is mainly one of appearance, the green turtle being the one commonly seen in the markets. The next day was spent in bunting the nests of turtles, the trails or tracks of tbe animals being followed up to the nest, when from 100 to 200 eggs would be found, about as large in diameter as a ben's egg, but round with a single depression. Cunning would hardly be looked for in so clumsy an ani mal, but every nest snowed evidence of it. In following up a track,' tbe nest would naturally be looked for at the end, but such was not the case, the track in every The Turtle With a Man on Its Back. instance being a blind one. The turtle would deposit its eggs, then spend some time destroying all traces of the, nest, theu traveling along the beach for forty or fifty feet before returning to the water, so that we had to pound the : sand with a pointed stick all along the beach, between the going up and coming down trail. From a dozen or wore nests we carried off nearly a thousand eggs.*^E^^^^|^~s^^|^^^ The captured turtles were taken to a corral— fenced inclosore in shallow THE MORNING CALL, SAN FRANCISCO, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 30, 1894. water— and released, to be recaptured when needed for the camp table. At such times it was our custom to go Into the cor ral and round no the animals single handed— an opera that was far more exciting tban the original capture, as the turtles were in their natural, element and made a vigorous hunt necessary, which illustrated better tnan anything else the power and speed possessed by these ani mals. I had heard of turtle riding on the open reef, and having ha J a taste of it on dry land, I volunteered ray services when the next green turtle was needed, and the cook, iv nowise disposed to retain this perquisite, readtlv allowed me the privi lege. The morning in question tbe entire camp gathered on the lence to see, as I afterward learned, the turtle "do me up." In light swimming costume 1 mounted the fence and slipped into the big corral. The water at high tide was about eight feet deep, and all over the white sandy bottom could be seen the black forms of the turtles that passed the time in sleeping on the bottom, occa sionally rising to the surface for air. 1 had been given the "tip" by a friendly darky, and diving I swam down to the nearest turtle, approaching from behind, and when directly over it seized it by the back of the shell just over the head. I was unprepared for the peculiar antics of this curious steed. Instead of starting | ahead the minute the animal felt my j hands, it pounded the sandy bottom with 1 a succession of quick blows that sent it to I the surface so quickly that I almost lost | my hold and my wind. The turtle gave a ' quick puff and dived, and I had just time , to follow suit and strengthen my grip i when the animal dived again, and with a ! rush dashed away throu.h the water, its I flipper-- moving up and down like flails. A second more and 1 should have ignomin iously given up. when the turtle, having gone the length of the. corral, dashed to j the surface to breathe, and I filled my lungs j just in time as I was jerked down again by the terrified creature and towed away, j now under water, now out, while the | other turtles, alarmed at the noise, were ! racing up and down, adding to the general : confusion and stirring up the sand and ; mud. It was evidently a trial of endurance, | and spurred on by the applause of the aud -1 ience on the fence, I clung to the shell desperately. Finally th- turtle showed signs of weariness, and I found by draw- I ing up my knees 1 could bring it to the sur face. * • "That's what you sbould have done in the first place," said one of the experts, who now, that I had caught my game, offered to display bis skilL Diving into .tne water he soon captured a fresh .turtle, and at once bad the animal at his mercy. At first he rode it around the corral, stretching out behind and holding on by one hand, while with the other he seized the lower part of the shell, and by using his knees he was able tn make the animal rise or fall. He stopped it almost immedi ately; kept it beneath the water until it was ready to give in ; in fact, had ii under complete control. During these perform ances the turtles did not attempt to bite or defend themselves other than by striking with the flipper or throwing sand. . c. H. HER FATE. She spurned the fond attention ■of a dozen I might mention. And it seemed her firm Intention To live a spinster's life; In manner most dramatic, She said with tone emph .tic. That her tastes were too erratic To make a happy wife. .She refused a foreign title When it seemed to he most vital 1 nat ber heart with sweet requital, At honor so conferred. Should smile with proud assenting; But she still was unrelenting And her heart was unrepentlng; Although it seemed absurd. Hut this maiden soon attended A football game and ended What she had before contended Was sentimental gash: She struggled hard to quell it, But nothing could dispel it. She lost her heart, pray teil it, To Ell's center rush. Orablks K. Nettle-to***. THIRST. Sufferings of Those Who are De- prived of Water. "No oue can conceive the tortures of a man who suffers from iea! thirst," said S. K. Jacoby of Ouray, Colo. "I underwent the awful experi ence once, but can hardly convey a bint of what I suffered, although it Is vividly lm. pressed on my rolno. There are no words in English or Spanish to tell the story, and I know no other languages. It was In Wyoming In 1883. With two companions I was doing a lit tle prospecting and we had bad luck. "One morning I made up my mind to try a range of mils about thirty miles away, across what seemed to be a well-verdured valley, and my chums refusing to go farther on what had proved a wild, goose chase, said good- by anil started back for Cheyenne. I started off and hadn't gone more than live miles when I came to desert land. There was not a stalk of vege tation in sight. The ground was covered with lava and scoria Mint bad rotted under suns of a -thousand centuries. I never Imagined that the desert was moie thau a few miles across, ana as there was a haze banging over it I went straight ahead. I only bad a small canteen, which held brandy Instead of water. It was before noon when I began my journey over Hi it waste. "Before that night my horse had fallen, nnd I was suffering pangs of agony. 1 had no brandy left, and everywhere was desolation as dry as chalk. I killed my horse and drank some of nis blood. Then I uirew myself down and slept. No opium eater craving for his drug ever bad such horrible dreams. They awoke me, and I got up and staggered on In the dark ness. All the demons of pain in the universe seemed to have settled themselves right be tween my shoulder blades nod were holding a carnival. Ten- thousand million red-hot needles, with rusted sides, were playing tv and out through my tongue, and the top of 'my head felt as If some glan had bold of it and was living to pull It off. 1 couldn't cry our. because my tongue was numb and useless from the palus.. "When morning came I just beheld the out lines of a wagon in the distance. With a super human effort I gave a shriek: and then 1 new no more. When I: regained consciousness I iv;i* lv a bunch bay uear a tire aud two or three men were looking at me. y. I lamed later on that my scream had been heard by a party of prospectors, who i were skirling the desert In order, to make a shortcut to tbe Montana cat tle trail, and ilia at first they thought It was some wild animal, but one of the pany insisted on a search, as he had li-aid a man make jus. such a noise belore be died of thirst in i lie Mo jave desert. li was months before I tecovered completely, and I haven't bo-u more than a mile away from * water, aud plenty of it, since."— News. If a lion and a strong bor-o were to pull in opposite directions the horse would win the tug-ot-war easily, but if the lion were hitched behind the borse and facing the same direction he could easily back tho horse down upon its haunches. CARELESS PEOPLE They Put Money in the Treasury. UNCLE SAM IS BENEFITED. Money Orders That Are Lost and Never Duplicated — Treasury Notes Destroyed. Washington, Dec. 24.— The .Govern ment of the United State& makes many thousands of dollars every year through the carelessness or misfortune of people with whom it has business to transact Merchants sometimes maka money in tbe same way, but the amount is inconsider able. If a merchant gives a check in sat isfaction of an obligation and the check is lost, the loss can be proved and the amount recovered by the man to whom the check was given. Sometimes it hap pens that a man gives a check which is de stroyed and which never comes to light; and possibly tho man to whom the check was issued never makes a claim for the money. But as was said this happens so seldom that the profit from this source is one to which no business man would give any consideration in figuring out the pos sibilities of a season. Uncle Sam, on the contrary, can figure out pretty well before the beginning of a fiscal year that so many thousand dollars will be put to bis credit on "profit and loss" account before the year is over. This profit will come from bonds and bank notes destroyed and never presented for ledemption. from money orders which are lost and never dupli cated, and from stamp* which are not put to the use for which they were intended. These profits are never cast up, because debts of the Government are seldom out lawed. But they are as real as though they were credited to Uncle Sam on the books of the treasury. Of course it is no fault of the Govern ment that this profit accumulates. Every effort is made to find the man to whom the Government is Indebted and every reason able opportunity is given to him to claim the amount of the indebtedness, ln the case of Inst or stolen bonds he ha * simply to prove ownership and give an indemnity bond to protect the Government against loss, ln the case of a treasury note in jured by fire he has to send in the charred remains and the treasury experts will decipher as far as possible the value of the pile (us original value) and the money will be restored to him. In the case of a money order, both the remitter and the remittee are advised again and again that the money remains unpaid. Still claims against the Government aggregating many thousands are left unpaid every year anil the total of even the last thirty years will run up into the millions. Even in the matter of unpaid money orders the Gov ernment has just made an accounting of 81.300,000 earned in the last tuirtv years and now turned into the Postoffice Depart ment fund, probably never to be repaid to its owners. The greatest source of unearned income, ; of course, is the destruction of treasury ; notes. Nearly fifteen millions of dollars i has been made by the Government up to | the present day, as nearly as can be esti | mated, by the destruction of treasury notes. Two years ago last August a lively controversy arose between Mr. Fos ter, then the Secretary of the Treasury, and some of the members of the House and Senate concerning the amount of money In circulation at various limes, as stated officially by the Treasury Depart ment. A letter was addressed by Hon. John Davis to the Secretary of the Treas ury, charging that in the treasury statements, among * other" thing*, *no allowance was made for the wasting and loss of com and the destruction of green backs and coin certificates. Therefore be contended that the statement of money in ciiculation was incorrect each year by the amount of note? and coin destroyed, air. Foster, replying, said that the depart ment bad no authority to deduct an esti mated amount of lost coin and notes from the total of its liabilities, He denied that there had beeu any considerable loss, and said that the total estimate at that time for the period ending January 1, 1894, was less than twelve and a half millions. Here is the statement in detail of the notes and certificates Issued by the Government, estimated to have been destroyed beyond 'nil possibility of redemption, to January 1, 1891: ' United States notes t0, 410.541 >llver certificates 447,004 Gold 200.000 National n0te5......... 6.394.555 Total $1 2,452, 1 Sir. Huntington, the chief of the. loans ami currency division of the Government, estimates that not more than oue or two millions has been destroyed since Janu ary 1, 1891. The carelessness which pre vailed during the war period, he says, was responsible for a large amount of the miss- Ing money, and the destruction now, while it increases iv proportion to the increase in the amount of money issued, is not so great proportionately as it was at that time. It amounts, probably, to less than half a million dollars every year. As to the amount represented by unre deemed coin and abrasions of gold and silver coin, that would be hard to estimate accurately. It is estimated that 8100,000 worth of silver coin is used every year in the arts, and as the coin value of this is only about $60,000 the Government makes 540,000 by the transaction. There is about $60,000 worth of abraded silver coin pur chased during a year at its bullion value and recoined, and on this the Government makes the difference between the face value and the bullion value, less the cost of coining. The amount of silver and gold coin which has disappeared from circula tion, and which will never be presented for redemption, cannot be estimated, ln the case of the gold coin there is no profit to the Government represented. In the case of the silver the profit is 20 to 40 cents on each dollar, according to the value of silver when the dollar was coined. Of the issue of $50,000,000 worth of bonds which has just been made a certain pro portion will never be presented for re demption. The Tieasury Department could figure in advance if the Secretary wished to do so just about what the profit on these bonds from this source would be. The value of the missing securities of the United States now outstanding which. will probably never be presented* for redemp tion is about ■ 81,250.000 according to Mr. Huntington. These obligations date back ; to 1847. A series of $250 bonds was issued under the bounty land scrip act of 1847, and even now at long intervals, these bonds come in for redemption. But the number is very small. /.There are still out standing about $500 worth of these bonds. The loan of 1862, amounting to nearly $400,000,000, was called between 1871 and 1875, but there is still 5220,200* of it out standing. Four thousand dollar** worth of these bond 3, called March 20, 1872, came in for redemption during the past year. They had drawn no interest for twenty-two years. Of the loan of June 1864, there is still outstanding $16,400; and none of it has drawn interest since 1876. There is $24,150 of the loan of 1865 (the 5-20*8) still out. The last of this was called in 1877. Of the con sols of 1865, called between 1877 and 1879, there was $2300 worth presented for re demption last*. year;. and there is 8113,700 worth outstanding, drawing no* Interest. Ot the consols of 1867, $16,400 worth were redeemed, during the year and $176,500 worth' remain unredeemed. Altogether the Government is ahead about a million and a quarter ron the L bonds ' which } will never be presented' or: redemption; and it is many thousands ahead on the unpaid Interest on large amounts which have not been paid when due. Of course war times were responsible for the greatest* destruc tion of * bonds, as the figures above will show. /But; It is singular that with all the safeguards which surround the ownership of bonds,' there should be such a heavy loss in tbem. The smallest denomination of bonds is §50. A security of this denom ination is not likely to be thrown about very carelessly. Then a large proportion of the Issue of each class of bonds Is registered and the ownership is easy to prove. .In the case of the loss or destruction of a regis tered bond, the treasury will issue a new bond to tbe owner on satisfactory security. The owner of the ln«t or destroyed regis tered bond has. to file with the. Secretary of the Treasury a bond in the amount of the original bond and the interest which would accrue on it up to the date of re dempton with two good and sufficient securities, residents of the United State*. In making proof of loss, the claimant must give the time and place of purchase, the name of the person from whom the bond was purchased and the amount paid for it; the place of deposit from wbicb it was lost and the names of any persons having ac cess to this place; the affidavits of others knowing of the existence of the bond and its disappearance; the affidavits of credi ble persons as to the reliability of the claimant; the number, denomination, etc., of tne bond. A man who bas lost a coupon bond can not recover its value. , But if a coupon bond has been destroyed or mutilated the owner can Present proofs similar to those required for a registered bond and the Secretary of the Treasury will issue a duplicate if the loser files a bond in double the amount of the lost bond and accruing interest. Many duplicates of lost or destroyed bonds are issued every year, Sometimes it has been necessary for a man who has lost bonds to go to Congress for relief. This was necessary in the case of the Manhattan Bank of New York, which lost $1,600,000 worth of bonds in what is known as "the great bank robbery" of 1878 and which was unable to give a bond iv sum sufficieut to comply with tbe general statute. Congress passed a special law for the benefit of this bank, authoriz ing the Secretary of the Treasury to issue duplicates on proofs that the originals were the property of the institution and had not been transferred, and on condi tion that a certain number of the bonds be held by the Secretary of the Treasury lor a time to secure him against possible claims by the holders of the bonds, in case any of them had been transferred. The amount which the Government may make in destroyed stamps each year is not determinable, but undoubtedly it amounts to a great many hundred dollars. The stamp collectors furnish a large revenue to the Government, for they put away stamps at their face value and tbe Post office Departmont is never required to per form the service which is represented by the purchase price. The Government of Liberia and some cf the smaller South American Governments are said to make a large income by issuing new stamps at comparatively short intervals. As to lost pistil . orders their value will amount to $50,000 or $75,000 every year, and" this amount is clean profit, for the transmission of the money has been paid for in advance. A certain number of check** and warrants of the Government are destroyed and never paid, but their value is not considerable. George Gkaxtuam Bain. A COUNTRY MAID. Her eyes the sun-Kissed violets mate, And fearless is their gaze; ' She moves with graceful, careless gait Along the country ways. The roses blushing lv her cheek That ne'er decay nor fade. . Her laughter say, ber words bespeak A simple, country maid. No flashing gem. adorn ber hair. Nor ciasp her illy neck, No jeweled circlets, rich and rare, Her suu-brownea bands bedeck; But i e.-wly teeth through lips as red As reddest rubies gleam; The tresses o'er her shoulders spread A golden mantle seem. Her looks are Kind, and sweet the smile That sparkles in her eyes; Her mind, her heart, are free from guile; she is not learned or wise. No worldly arc. no craft das she * Acquired, her charms to aid; .'.'-..- ';■'. And yet she stole my heart from me. This simple, country maid. —Chambers' Journal. LOST SILVER VEIN. The Secret That Amos Albright Car- ried Into the Grave. The Lost Vein of Colorado still eludes the eager prospector. Behind it range the Inci dents of one of the most touchiug love stories ever written. In the early six' lea Amos Al bright went to Colorado to seek his fortune, leaving his wife aud cbildren on an Illi nois farm. His health began to fail soon after his arrival in Colorado, aud to make matters worse, came distressing news from borne, for to make the Journey to the gold fields be had borrowed money from a rich neighbor, In former days an unsuccessful suitor for bis wife's hand, and the wife wrote that their creditor now threatened to foreclose bis loan and drive her and her children from their home. The news made Albright desper ate; he sold a portion ot tils scanty belougings, exchanged the money for provisions, and set out alone for the mountains. He was sick unto death, but desperation nerved him on. He readied the mountains, turned from the trail and began prospecting on unbroken ground, but day after day disappointment alone at tended bis efforts. In a fortnight his provisions were gone, and he now saw that only starva tion or retreat lay before bim. One weary day sundown found bim sitting on a heap of drift at th base of ** great rock. He was feariully hungry, and weariness aod the cold winds of the mountains bitterly oppressed bim. Then came a discoveiy such as is seldom beard ot outside the pages of old romance. What was it that be saw in the rock upon which he was sit ting? Silver! Not quartz nor glance, but vir gin ore. The vein was as broad as bis band iv the middle and dwindled away in wavering Hues a yaid iv length. Albright sprang up and set to work with feverish energy and the unimpaired strength of a giant, lt was a origin moonlight night and be labored without pause until sunrise. When morning came be bad mined more ore I ban be could cany away with him. He saw clearly that the vein he bad discovered was a true one and probably extent-ed a great dis tance. Within bis grasp lay a fortune of millions, lie made a careful reckoning of his bearings, staked his claim, concealed all traces of bis labor, aud collecting as much of tbe ore as he could carry away with bim, set out for Denver, which city he reached late that ulght. Next morning he purchased an (•unit, an abundance of provisions and a mule, aud again set out for bis claim. Within a month lie Dad mined enough silver to load a train. Moreover, be bad traced tbe fissure toils origin in tne bills and satisfied himself that be was the owner of one of the richest claims in Colorado. Then a hemorrhage struck linn down, aud it was by a miracle mat, blind and staggering, be reached Denver alive. As soon as ne bad gamed sufficient streugth he set out for his home in Illinois. As yet though eagerly importuned to do so. lie bad revealed to no one tbe location ot bis claim. He reached home only to rind that bis wife and children had beeu driven from tbeir. home by bis creditor, and to die In his wife's arms. The money be had brought with bim from Colorado served to recover the home from which his family had been driven, but the secret of the Lost Vein died with bim. No oue of the hundreds wbo bave since attempted to search bas been able to find it. Western mining history contains no more pathetic story than that wbicb relates to Amos Albright and the Lost Vein.— Washington I'ost. MAKING HAIRPINS. A Machine That Turns Out Over a Hundred a Minute. For years the English and French con trolled the manufacture of hairpins, and It Is only within tbe last twenty years that the goods bave been produced in this country to any extent. The : machinery used is of a■: deli cate and Intricate character, as the Drices at which the plus are sold necessitate the cheap est and most rapid progress, which can only be procured by automatic machines. '.-agSiSSS*_t*fSS The wire is in de expressly for the purpose and put up In large coils, which are placed iv a clamp, which carries »it | to the machine while straightening it. From i there it runs Into an other machine, which « cuts, bends and by . a delicate and inst ntaneous process sharpens the points. Running at full speed these ma chines will turn out 120 hairpins every minute. To economize It is necessary to keep them run ning day and nlgbt. ■'-•■• -,- Tbe difficult part of : the work is in the en ameling, which is done by dipping tbe pins la a preparation and baking in an oven. Here is where* the most constant and careful attention Is requiied, as ;t he ! pin-* must *be - perfectly smooth and the enamel have a perfect polish. The slightest panicle of dust causes Imperfec tions and roughness, wbich is objectionable Pittsburg Dispatch. The animal known all over the West as tbe "California lion" is recognized in other parts of the world as the puma, catamount, "cougar or panther. It is nothing more than a large cat. IS THE HORSE UNGRATEFUL? A Study of the Animal's Emotional Nature. Our friend the horse is lately receiving a good deal of attention in literature. A few years ago. it was fashionable to write and talk about and paint dogs. Later the feline race engrossed our attention, and "the harmless, necessary cat" received a large share of literary and artistic atten tion. .Now the horse is all the vogue and, as may be expected, a great many diverse opinions are being expressed regarding him. Bret Harte, for instance, roundly con demns our equine friend as ungrateful, unaffectionate, treacherous and unrelia ble and holds up to incredulous scorn tbe idea that the borse knows one human be ing from another, or cares for bis own master above any other man. A writer in the current issue of Scribner's Magazine in a lengthy and scientific article on the horse takes somewhat similar although less radical ground. He declares bis ex perience with the animal does not lead him to the conclusion that tbe horse is affectionate or that he seems to care for one person above another, and says that the creature Is unresponsive and undem onstrative. It seems singular that a man sbould have the experience with an order of animals that would enable him to write so comprehensive an article as tbe one in question and sbould yet fail so signally in arriving at any understanding of the emo tional nature of so highly sensitized a creature as the horse. It is true that to one who is not thor oughly familiar with the animal's ways it does seem irresponsive to advances made. He does not wag his tail, for instance, and leap upon you in ecstatic transports of affection as does the dog; nor rub against you or roll at your feet after the manner of the cat. It would be highly incon venient if the horse were to do any of these things. He would, however, frolic about one if the habit were not frowned upon in colthood. I once owned a fine colt from whose demonstrations of playful affection I was forced at times to flee THE OLD STALLION KNEW HIS FRIEND. for my life. He would run after me and rearing put his hoofs upon me in genuine doggish fashion, a trick which his great slz** rendered dangerous in the extreme, and of wbich be bad to be broken by severe punishment. The horse, as he grows older, becomes less playful and demonstrative than the cat or the dog, not because he is so by nature, but because he is put to work — a circumstance which tends largely to subdue auy unto ward exuberance of spirits. Not having a tail to wag, too large to be rolled over and played with cat fashion or to curl up in your lap, the horse's range of emotional expression is, naturally, somewhat lim ited. - He has learned to nicker and whin ner, and no one who has ever had the handling of tho animal in his stall can have failed to note how keenly responsive he is to kindly treatment. It is an easy matter for an observant owner to learn whether hi** . hired attendant treats his horse rightly; he has only to watch the creature's demeanor toward the groom. That conduct will not always be the same. It will vary according to the dispo sition of the horse. Soino horses will evince decided pleasure when the attend ant comes about them. Others will only tell their story by being quiet and docile 'in the hands of a gentle groom. Ono ani mal I have owned, while a model of gen tleness and kindness when well treated, would always bits or kick at the man wbo used her roughly. Another would simply cower and tremble whenever the rough keeper came near her. The writer in question declares in all seriousness that the hoi noes not become attached to in dividuals. Some time ago I was called from home for several mouths. I left Madame, my favorite pony, under the same care she had bad for a year or more. The same person fed her, just as before; with the exception of myself the same persons used her. She bad in all respects the same care, but during my absence sbe grew thin and dispirited. She would not eat, and she looked gaunt and sorry enough on my return. She was unmistakably glad to see me when I again made my appearance, and proceeded at once to fatten up. The same authority referred to declares horses are not appreciative of kindness, do not recognize, in fact, when such are performed for them. Along this line an acquaintance of mine tells the following story: A friend of bis had occasion to cross the Niagara River, one winter night, on the ice. Be was driving a very fine mare; and bad all but made the distance in safety when, near the shore, the ice broke and tbe mare wont through into the water. She was nearly submerged, and was in the icy-cold water for over two hours before she could be re leased from her perilous position. Of course she was chilled through, but sbe was taken to a farmhouse, on the river bank, led into a large basement kitchen, where a roaring fire of logs was made in the open fireplace. Here she was thoroughly rubbed down, dosed witb brandy and given a plentiful hot mash. Then a bed was made for ber on the floor, and warmly covered she went to sleep. Her owner, much concerned for tbe safety of his valuable mare, went to rest in an adjoining room. In the night be was awakened by something touching bis face. Starting up he discovered the mare stand ing by bis couch licking bis face. '■ She laid her head against bim and seemed to en deavor by every means in her power to ex press her gratitude for her rescue and the treatment she had received. She; bad never before shown anythinglike affection for him, but it was quite evident that she appreciated her peril and what bad been done for her. That the horse does remember kindness and cherish the memory of old affections is well instanced in many authentic cases. There are few horsemen but will remem ber the name of "Bush Messenger"— the original Bush Messenger —an old-time famous sire of a line of speedy descend ants. After be went from the ownership of Mr. Bush he fell into harsh bands, and, never very tractable, became so savage as to *. be "; woolly unmanageable. He had grown to ■be* an ; old ■ horse, when, years after, his former owner paid him a visit. While Messenger was not a gentle horse, Mr. Bush had always been able to handle him and do with him as he would. Imagine bis surprise, therefore, to find his old favorite uugrooined and unkempt, in an inclosure surrounded by a 10-foot fence of strong boards. Through an open ing in this fence food aDd water were passed, the animal being deemed so dan gerous that no one was found brave enough to enter the pasture with him. Mr. Bush essayed to do this, but was warned that he was taking hi* life in his own hands and would certainly rue his rashness. HO entered, however, and con cealing himself among some bushes he gave the little whistle by which in days gone by he had always called the Mes- seneer. The old horse raised his bead and lis tened.. Another whistle, and with a great whinner Messenger came tearing across the field In tbe direction of the sound. He ran about searching tor its source, and upon Mr. Bush stepping into view the horse immediately ran to him, while the onlookers watched, terrified for tho man. But, gently as a child, the fierce old stal lion came up to his former owner and laid his bead upon the man's breast, for the wonted caress. The poor old fellow was frantic when Mr. Bush left and bursting through his pasture bars rushed down the road after him. The gentleman led him back to a stall in the stable, where he was secured by strong ropes, but for a long dis tance on bis homeward ride Mr. Bush could hear his old pet lashing about in bis stall in a vain eadeavor to free himself aud follow his former master. A similar case was that of Goldsmith Maid, who was never known to care for any one but her old driver. Budd Doble. When she was retired from the track and bred she became quite unmanageable after the advent of her first colt, so that none of her attendants ventured to approach very near her, aud no one had ever laid a hand on the colt when Mr. Doble paid her a visit. When he went to the fnclosure the Maid was at the further end of the pasture. The famous driver was warned that he would irobahly be received with her heels if he ventured to approach, but, to the surprise of all, upon bearing his voice, the glorious mare came trot ting across the field and welcomed him with every manifestation of delight. She marshaled up her baby for his Inspection, permitted him to handle it. and in every way showed her love for and confidence in him. When he left she stood a long time by the bars, gazing after bim until he was out of sight- Not only do horses remember human beings, but I am convinced that they remember their friends among each other. I was driving Madame along a quiet street not long since when I saw tied in front of a house a horse who had once been her stable com panion, occupying the next stall. As we drew near the horse looked ud and gave a loud, shrill whinner, to which Madame lesponded at once, turning her bead in the other's direction with a clearly unmis takable air of recognition. Perhaps the most demonstrative among these creatures are the horses in racing stables. I have seldom failed to receive a cordial welcome from these equine aristo- I crats, who become so accustomed to the visits of strangers as to really seem at times to consider it incumbent upon them selves to give the guests a polite reception. I have noticed one thing,- however, that it seems to me is not without significance. Among the great horses I have visited I have found* more intelligence, a more observant notice and quicker responsive ness in mares and stallions than in geld ings. Not only in the great stables, but among norses in general I have found the same rule, if it may be laid down as a rule, to hold. Ido not undertake to account for it; 1 only lay it down as a result of my observations among animals. The only keen, alert, demonstrative gelding I I can remember to have encountered is Flying Jib, tbe phenomenal pacer. I remember well the first time I ever saw him. He was loose in his stall, and as 1 approached be came to the half door, and thrusting his bead out proceeded, per nose, to investigate my features thoroughly. I held out a band and be first sui el led of it, then rubbed his chin against my out stretched fingers. Altogether he acted like a dear fellow, and I have always taken a special pride in his well-earned fame. The horse has the least power of expres- I sion of any of toe domesticated animals. Even a cow has often more freedom to express herself. The horse, when in the company of his oWner, is usually in har ness. Held fast between tne shafts, un able to turn himself to right or left, blind folded, as a rule, and his head held high I iv air, it is hardly to be wondered at if he I essays no marks of affection for the bands | that are holding reins and whip over bis | back. It seems extraordinary, however, that at j this late day in our experience with the animal there should arise an authority who. while evincing thorough knowledge of the animal's origin, history and achieve ments, should still declare him to be lack ing in affection, in gratitude, and— for tbis claim is also made— in general intelli gence. The owner of more than one equine pet will rise in iudignant contra diction of all these charges. ' . Miss Russell. i Skin diseases are caused by im- pure or depleted blood. The blood ought to be pure and rich. It is made so by Scott's (_£____HH-G-_nH_K_3Eßr Emulsion the Cream of Cod-liver Oil. Scrofula and Anaemia are overcome also, and . Healthy Flesh is built up. Physicians, the world over, endorse it. Don't be deceived by Substitutes! Prepared by Scott ■_ Bonne, N. Y. All Dru__i_t_, 13