The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, October 22, 1885, Image 6

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    TEE M'COO&TBIBTJNE.
SKJFPMSMENT.
KcCOOK , NEB
THE FAMILY DOCTOR
Ir we add a pint of pure water to a
pint of impure water , we dilute the im
pure water , and it is made that much
the more pure. If we add a dozen pints
of pure water to it , we dilute it still
more , and bring it , nearer purity yet ;
but if we add a certain number more ,
instead of the impurity becoming di
lated , it is absolutely destroyed , and Dr.
Letherby , of London , jsays that the
water is perfectly pure. It is the same
way with impure air. A certain quantity
of pure air added to it , dilutes the bad
air and makes it less noxious , while if a
certain quantity more is added , the im
purity of the air is destroyed , as is th'e
case with impure water. Any person
can judge of this from the good effect of
much pure air upon bad air.
THE following hints concerning the use
of tea may prove useful : 1. Whosoever
uses tea should do so in great modera
tion. 2. It should form a part , of the
meal , but never be taken before eating ,
between meals , or on an empty stomach ,
as it is too frequently done. 3. The
best time to take tea is after a hearty
meal. 4 Those who suffer with weak
nerves should never take it at all. 5.
Those who are troubled with inability to
sleep nights should not use tea , or , if they
do , take it in the morning. 6. Brain-
workers should never goad on their
brains .to overwork on the stimulus of
tea. 7. Children and the young should
never use tea. 8. The overworked and
underfed should never use tea. 9. Tea
should never be drunk very strong. 10.
It is better with considerable milk and
sugar. 11. Its use should at once be
abandoned when harm comes from it.
12. Multitudes of diseases come from
the excessive use of tea , and for this
reason those who cannot use it without
going to excess should not use it at all.
DB. DAY says in a late lecture : "What
ever be the plan of treatment decided
npon rest is the first principle to incul
cate in very severe headache. Best ,
which the busy man and anxious mother
cannot obtain so long as they can man
age to keep about , is one of the first
remedies for every headache , and we
should never cease to enforce it. The
brain , when excited , as much needs
quiet and repose as a fractured limb or
an inflamed eye ; it is obvious that the
chances of shortening the seizure and
arresting the pain wHl depend on our
power to have this carried out actually.
It is a practical lesson to keep steadily
in view in that there may lurk behind a
simple headache some lesion of unknown
magnitude , which may remain stationa
ry if quietude can be main tained. There
is a point worth attending to in the
treatment of all headaches. It is that
the head be elevated at night , and the
pillow hard ; for if it be soft the head
sinks into it and becomes hot , which ,
with some people , is enough to provoke
an attack in the morning if sleep has
been long and heavy.
EXCEPT a Turkish bath , nothing is
more efficacious-in the sore throat of
children or adults than a wet compress
to the throat. Double a towel two or
three times , so as to make a pad that
will fit snugly under the chin and over
the throat , and let it extend around
from ear to ear. Then bind a thickly-
folded towel over the wet pad , having
the towel wide enough to overlap the
edges of the pad. It is best to pass this
outer covering over the head , and not
around the neck after the style of a cra
vat , the object beingto exclude the air
BO as to keep up a perspiration over the
diseased parts. But if the. soreness is
low down on the throat , the outside
towel may be passed around the neck j
yet , when this'is done , it is much more
difficult to exclude the air. The wet
compress may be put on cold or warm ;
but , when cold , it soon becomes warm
from the heat of the skin , and is really
a warm vapor bath. "When the pad is
taken off , the throat should be washed in
cold-water to close the pores , and then
well dried with a towel. ' This is appli
cable to croup and to all kinds of sore
throats , and will be found more cleanly
and equally as efficient as grandmother's
stocking filled with ashes.
Work .Doesn't Hurt.
Made crazy by hard work is the report
concerning a very active business man
in Troy. It will do to call it that , al
though the trouble comes generally from
another direction. It is not so much the
hard work that crazes and kills men of
business as it is the close application and
the inevitable worry of mind. The man
who cannot possess his soul in patience
has no right to carry on a large business.
It is suicide , slow , perhaps , but not the
less certain. There are 'some men who
manage their business until tit reaches a
certain magnitude , after which it man
ages them and runs away with. them.
Plain work seldom hurts people , be it
ever so hard. It is the mental anxiety ,
caused by the perplexities of an un
manageable business , that vexes and
frets and worries a man out of his equi
librium. No amount of pecuniary suc
cess can ever pay for this. Philadelphia
Times.
The Hail in Early Days.
Boston's first newspaper , the News-
Letter , contained the following adver
tisement in one of its early issues :
By order of the Postmaster General of North
America. These aro to give Notice , That on
Mondav night the Sixth of this Instant.Decem
ber , the Western Post Between Boston and New
York , sets out at once a Fortnight the Three
Winter Months of December , January and Feo-
ruary , and to go Alternately from Boston to
Saybrook and Harff ord to Exchange the Mayle
of Letters with the New "Tork Byderon Satur
day Night the llth Currant And the Second
Turn he seta out at Boston on Monday Night
the 20th Currant to meet the New York Byder
at Hartford on Saturday Night the 20th Cur
rant to Exchange Mayles. And all persons that
send Letters from Boston to Connecticut from
and after the 13th Instant are hereby Notified
first fc > pay the Postage on the name.
"IsrrEiaHT ? " So long as any per
son seriously asks this question of him
self , in regard to all his acts , the danger
of any great departure from the path of
rectitude must be small ; and we wish
that a system of education might make
it as common and controlling among our
people in after years as now appears to
be in youth.
The American Rural Home.
No one would have dreamed of call
ing her a heroine , or of attributing any
heroic qualities to the slender , sad-
faced woman robed in gray , who dai
ly passed to and fro * from her board
ing place to the little white school-
house 'neath the maples , where for
nearly a year she had taught the
young belligerents of Westdale hamlet.
Few knew ought regarding her , and
none were acquainted with any of the
facts pertaining to her past , or its
history.
Bearing testimonials relative to her
calling from the faculty of a seminary
in a distant State , she had been en
gaged to fill the position as instruct
ress in the rural district of Westdale.
Faithfully performing her duty and si
lently going her way , the inquisitive
could only speculate as to what they
in no way understood her reticence
and deeply sorrowful contenence and
demeanor.
That she failed to be popular among
her patrons was not to be wondered
at , as few persons admire , or love ,
what they fail to understand ; and
Darcia Tresswell was an inscrutable
and unsolved enigma tp the simple
country folk among whom she dwelt.
Of a deeply religious nature , cultur
ed and refined , her thoughts , tastes ,
and desires in no way assimilated with
those of her employers , though she
patiently and conscientiously en
deavored to do her duty to their
children , and sought to instil in their
youthful minds some of the principles
which actuated her own.
But when it was ascertained that
the new teacher "read and prayed , "
she was eyed askance by the irre
ligious of the community , and finally
ignored ; public sentiment being more
truthfully than politely expressed by
the neighborhood oracle "prayers
may convert the South Sea Islanders ,
but nothin' short of beech andhick'ry
will tame the young ones of this ere
town ! "
As said "young ones" were
fully as , precocious and observing
as children in general , and
fully aware of the opinion enter
tained by their elders , they were not
slow to take advantage of their teach ,
er's mild rule and merciful dispostion ;
neither did they scruple to make her
situation a most unenviable one and
her life almost unbearable from ita
daily martrydom.
She washarrassed and annoyed , her
persuasions disregarded , her authority
defied , till she would have gladly bid *
demidieu to so unpleasantrand unfruit -
ful a field of labor where her tireless
efforts had proved so unavailing and
unappreciated. Though none would
ever know how.much _ heroism and for
bearance she displayed , still she re
mained faithful- what she considered
tp be her duty till the time should ar
rive for herhonorable release from the
year's engagement.
"How lone before school will be
out"inquired a flaxen-haired.freckled-
faced girl , who made a point of asking
the same question as often as once
each day.
In even , pleasant tones came the re
ply , as if it were the first time the
teacher had ever heard the question.
"In one week , my dear ! '
"Then we can have a new teacher , "
was the coarse and unfeeling remark
of a great , boisterous , over-grown boy ,
as he cast a winked eye towards the
pale-faced woman by the recitation
desk who was quietly gathering up
books and papers for the night , hav-
ingdismissedher scholars.
Her dark gray eyes turned upon him
a reproachful look for a single instant ;
then indignation's fire leaped from
their depths as she arose and silently
pointed towards the door.
For once the impertinent stripling
concluded to unquestioningly obey ;
perhaps from a feeling of contrition
For his unfeeling Words ; and with con
siderable noise and widely extended
arms he swept the promiscuous crowd
of juveniles before.him , through the
open door way.
There was a sharp metallic clinking
of dinner pails , a .variety of "Oh ,
dear's ! " and "Oh ' "
, my'sl" as some
body's feet proved too large .or too
numerous for such a stampede. There
was a confused fluttering , of pink sun-
bonnets and torn straw hats ; the
high-keyed voices gradually died away
in the distance , while the weary wom
an , with a deep-drawn , quivering sigh
sank , into a seat , alone in the deserted
school room.
Her wistful eyes did not look
through the uncurtained window upon
the long stretch of field and meadow
where the dry grass and stubble rus
tled in the late afternoon breeze.
Neither did she see the distant wood
land , gorgeous in its autumnal color
ing ; for the heavy eyelids drooped ;
the nervous fluttering hands dropped
upon the sombre gray dress ; the head
with its-masses of dark braids sank
upon the desk in front , while memory
held its mirror before the weary and
half-unconscious toiler.
She saw herself , a" girl of sixteen ,
among her sisters , one of whom said
and how familar and plain sounded
the echo of that voice'though it had
been bussed in death for. .many and
many a year :
"Darcia , it is time you did some
thing for yourself. We are fatherless.
Our mother is poor. We are obliged
to provide for ourselves , and you must
begin life in earnest , sister ; and it will
be an endless battle as it has ever
been for all our sex. "
"But what can I do ? " had been her
pitiful cry. "I have no trade , no
talent ; not a single natural gift ; not
one. "
"Become a teacher ! Yon can ac-
company me , obtain a certificate , and
teach school at 'the Corners'this win
ter , " was the elder sister's reply to the
passionate out-burst of the younger.
"But " she " that
, expostulated , pro
fession is over-crowded , and there are
three teachers in our family now ! "
"True in both cases. But what else
can you do ? "
Ah , indeed ! What could she do to
earn her living. And she sees herself ,
a timid , self-distrusting girl , arraigned
before one of that class of qfliciala
who are elected mainly for their sym
pathy with half informed , embarassed
school girls and lone women who de
sire to earn their own living in a gen
teel way.
She smiles even now at the remem
brance of her frightened , ambiguous
answers , and the awe with which she
regarded the supposed savant who so
mercilessly propounded such unan
swerable questions ; some of which
were as unwarrantable as her ability ,
which the slip of paper she obtained
vouched for ; entitling the possessor to
teach at "the Corners" or elsewhere.
Thus , early in life she had taken
up her burden and become one
of the world's toilers one of its
unrecognized and uncrowned hero
ines. For five , long , weary years she
followed the monotonous life thus ac
corded her , because she could do
'
naugh't else. Then like a golden sun
set after a day of gloom came the one
happiness of her me , which it were joy
even yet to remember , though ita
brightness faded and left life all the
more dreary.
A smile parted the tightly closedlipa
which were accustomed to express so
much , as there arose before her inner
vision the reflection of a perfect , clear
cut face with broad brow and the fire
of genius in the dark eyes , that lighted
lip the almost deathly pallor of an
otherwise faultless face.
How well she remembered the hour
when she first met Wayne Tresswell ,
and sat entranced by the strains oi
delicious harmony which his skillful
fingers evoked , and gave herself up to
the dream which this man and hia
talent awoke in her heart.
Memory shifted the scene. Theseniii
unconscious woman beheld a girlish
figure with a glorified look on her face ,
leaning on the arm of the man with
whom she had cast her lot , as they
stepped from the shadow of the old
church portal where the words had
been.spoken that bound their lives to
gether.
Wayne Tresswell's eyes beamed up
on her like beacons which she was only
too happy tp follow the radiance of ,
even while friends demurred and shook
their heads at what all considered an
unwise choice.
Again she saw the rose-embowered
cottage 'neath the sheltering locusts
where she was , oh , so happy , as she
sat at eventide and listened to the ex
quisite harmonies which the young
musician drew from the responsive ,
quivering strings of the instrument he
so dearly loved. The evening star
looked tenderly down upon the sweet
and hallowed content which dwelt
with the inmates of thelonely cottage.
And when , a year later , a babe , with
its father's eyes , lay upon the young
-wife's breast , inihefulness-of-her-heart
she thought none more favored than
herself.
But , alas ! A quivering sigh , e'en
now breaks the stillness of the deserted
school-room as the slumberer lives
ojver again the sorrow and woe that
followed so closely upon the happiest
days of her life.
The handsome face of Wayne Tress
well grew paler and thinner ; the slender
form became attenuated and feeble ; a
hacking cough broke the stillness .of
night and brought a terrible forebod
ing * to the young wife's heart. His
eyes grew larger and brighter , like the
reflection of the light from the immor
tal shore he was so rapidly nearing.
His trembling fingers refused tp do hi/
will , and the longbow oftfell with jarr
ing , discordant twang upon the instru
ment closely clasp to his breast.
The young wife and mother with
hopeful smiles upon her lips while dull
despair clutched her heart , put her
babe aside and nerved herself to the
task of supplying their daily needs ;
and while ministering to the invalid
her deft fingers plied the needle which
kept want from their door.
But it all too soon came to an end.
Even that poor consolation was de
nied her. There came a time when the
eyes of love looked into hers no more.
The beautiful palid face was coffined.
The slender , shrunken fingers lay
clasped upon .the pulseless breast ,
and the beloved Cremona lay with
broken strings , silent as its master.
A sob broke from Darcia Tresswell
and shook her slight form as the mem
ory of that great sorrow came back
with such overwhelming force. Shesaw
herself with her fatherless babe in her
arms following the coffined form of
her husband to its-last resting place.
She seemed to hear the stereotyped
expressions of sympathy and condo
lence. t
She saw the little cottage sold to
liquidate the indebtedness" her to'l
band's death and sickness had entail
ed. Then she faced the world again ; E f
this time with a babe in her arms.
,
There was.no alternative , and once
more she became a teacher. Slowly
the years wore away one by one. while
from her earnings she carefully laid by ,
little by little , a sum for the education
of her child ; who , inheriting the great
beauty of her father , ear lyin life snow
ed that she also possessed his talent.
Early and late the mother labored.
She spared neither pains nor expense.
She denied herself that her daughter
might have the benefits thereof. And
at last , after many years , the time
came when instructors and professors
considered their pupil prepared to
make her debut , as it had been de
cided by fate that Alice Tresswell's
career should be a public one.
The .half-slumbering woman's heart
beat tumultuously as she saw again
the densely crowded house , and looked
upon the sea of coldly criticizing faces
waiting to pass judgment upon the
talent of her darling. .
No one had noticed the lone woman
who sat so still and cold , and to whom
the triumph or defeat of theyouthtul
aspirant for public approval was more
than to all the"world beside ; for in her
heart she realized that if the publio
gained a favorite ; she would lose her
child. Few indeed are they who do
not eventually let popular adulation
usurp all other ties.
The curtamrose atlast. Themoth-
er held her breath as she gazed upon
that vision of youth and loveliness.
The willowy form was robed in a sim
ple dress of fleecy white , which only
served to rivet the beholder's atten
tion upon the lovely face with its slum
brous eyes and wealth of beautiful
dark hah ? , amid which whitely gleamed
like flakes of snow , a simple spray of
lily of the valley.
The little hands lovingly clasped the
instrument with which she sought to
win the heart of the public and the
world's critics the Cremonia of her
dead father , whose genius was all he
had to bequeath his child.
Softly the long bow swept the vi
brant strings. Tenderly the slender
fingers seemed to caress them as if
seeking to persuade the inanimate
strings to yield up their hidden mel
ody Beautiful , exquisite harmonies ;
passipnate pleadings , sad , mournful
minor strains , and at last jubilant
notes of triumph attested the young
girl's skill , and her mastery of the
productions of the world's most fa
mous violinist. *
j
Then came the prolonged encore
which testified how appreciative were
her auditors ? And while the mother's ,
heart beat high with joy for the suc
cess of her child , yet her tears fell fast
that night , which seemed so long ago ,
for those lustrous eyes had been for
the multitude and not for the lone
watcher who had made so many ,
many sacrifices for the one who would
never know or appreciate them.
The world saw and recognized the
grand result without seeking to know
aught of the cause producing it.
The mother's fear had not been an
idle one. The child she loved so fond
ly soon drifted away from her , out of
her life and its current.
With a groan of anguish Darcia
Tresswell stirred , as the cool breeze
swept over the bowed head , and one
hand instinctively sought the folds of
the gray dress wherein a rustling paper
made known her contact with its
touch. Bringing it forth she raised
her head and read for the second time
that day the words which were brand
ed upon her heart with ingratitude's
serpent tooth.
NEW YORK , Sept. 20. DEAR MOTHER :
Before thia reaches you I shall be Alice
Tresswell no longer , and hall have sailed
for Europe to remain three years or more ,
and where I hope to achieve success.
Would have visited you , but thought likely
you were in some horrid , out-of-the-way-
place , and my time has been wholly occu
pied. Will try and see you on my return ,
and shall expect you to visit me when I am
at last established in a home of my own.
Be sure aad provide an elegant wardrobe
againnt that time , as Mr. Graham is very
fastidious in matters of dress.
Yours affectionately ,
ALICE.
This from the daughter whom she
had not met and rarely heard from for
over two years ; who was changing her
name and forming new ties without
iver asking her mother's consent , ad
vice or blessing ; who dwelt upon pro
spective wardrobes with interesting
herseinn.any way as to how they were
tdl3e b1)Eained. * jind what could be
thought of an affection that did not
seek its object even if in "some horrid
. "
out-of-the-way-place.
Bitter tears fell upon the delicately
perfumed but now crumpled sheet ere
it fell from .the trembling .fingers and
fluttered to the ffoor ; and bowing her
head once more , this woman , whose
"ifehad been freighted with grief and
disappointment from first to last , wept
as if her heart would break , so wound-
ed.and grieved by .the thoughtlessness
and ingratitude of her only child.
No , the world would never call Darcia
Tresswell aheroine , or sing the praises
of her unselfish , self-abnegating spirit.
And there are thousands of just such
tender , loving , sacrificing mothers who
take the brightness from their own
lives to lighten the way for those near
and dear to them.
An arm stole round her neck , and a
trembling voice freighted with sym
pathy , said :
"Teacher , I'm sorry you feel sol I
think Tom Brown is an awful mean
boy to say such hateful things and
make you cry. "
Looking up Darcia Tresswell beheld
the little freckled faced girl who had
always tried her patience' so sorely
who never was known to have a per
fect lesson , and whom she had always
regarded as being wholly devoid o.f hu
man sympathy and kindly feeling , so
annoying she had proved , but who now
said :
"And I'm sorry I've been so hateful ,
too. If you'll let me begin now , I'll
try and be good , as you pray we will
be ; I really willl" and the homely little
face looked almost beautiful with its
new light of resolve , to the ad and
tearful teacher who tenderly kissed the
child-as she replied :
"Thank you for your good resolu
tion and your sympathy. Make one
more resolve that you will never
cause.your mother to weepfortheneg-
lect and ingratitude of her child , " and
she picked up her own daughter's con
demning letter , while hastily brushing
away her tears.
"I'll try and be good to mother ,
surely ! " was the surprised reply.
"And that makes me think she sent
me to ask if you would please take tea
with her to-night ; and , " hesitatingly ,
as if ashamed , "I guess she wants you
to pray about little Johnnie's death ,
youknow. She cries as you did a little
while ago. You looked so sad , I forgot
my errand , " and the child's voice trem
bled and her pale blue eyes searched
her teacher's face as she vaguely won
dered why everybody had trouble and
tears.
The woman who was not a heroine
the woman who could assist and ,
comfort others while her own heart
was heavy with grief the one of many ,
gratefully accepted the unexpected
invitation with the feeling thatper- "
haps others were not so well prepared
to. bear their burdens as she ; that pos
sibly some human heart would be bet
ter or happier by doing her duty con
scientiously and well.
She also knew that kindred sorrows
make , people sympathetic ; aud fhat
the bitter showers of grief bring .iorth
abundant harvests of good deeds.
The Great Monument to General
.Grant.
Ex-Gov. Cornell of New York , con
tributes to the Brooklyn Magazine
some very sensible and timely sugges
tions regarding the proposed memori
al to Gen. Grant. The governor's
views are in accord with some ideas on
the subject previously expressed
through these columns. He rightly
thinks the great deeds and the exam
ple of the illustrious dead "canbehest
commemorated and preserved in per
petual honor .by combining with a
monumental structure some institu
tion in architectural harmony that
shall keep in view every visible illus
tration of the grand and beneficent
results achieved under his leadership
as soldier and statesman. " To that
end he proposes that the-memorial
shall consist of a monument , a library
and a museum , "all connected and
emhracing within one grand edifice
and enclosure the following subjects : "
First A majestic column of appro
priate design and commanding pro
portions , containing a memorial chap
el , within which shall be deposited the
mortal remains of the illustrious
dead. This section of the structure
would naturally bear the principal
portion of the elaborate decorations
in stone carving , and thus be made the
chief object of the whole' design.
Second A library containing es
pecially the publications written by
Gen. Grant and other credited authors
concerning his military operations ,
civil administration and travels , and
also a complete collection of the ac
cepted literature and published illus
trations of the great war for the pres
ervation of the Union , and relating
to subsequent events proceeding im
mediately from it. Likewise any au
thentic book or writing appertaining
to the discovery of America and its
early occupation , to our colonial his
tory , the formation and conduct of
the national government at every
stage of its history ; the erection and
development of the several states ,
cities and civil divisions. Everything ,
in fact , that would constitute a great
American library , and serve to enlight
en future generations on the origin ,
growth and progress of the American
people , begun by a few brave , resolute
and God-fearing men , and become one
of the great nations of the earth.
Third A museum in which shall be
deposited , as opportunity may offer ,
interesting relics and mementos of the
\var for the Union , as well as those of
our earlier conflicts , including speci
mens of every available'implement of
war employed by the opposing forces ;
and such other collections aslnay be
made from time to time as will lend
interest to those portions of our his
tory to which such relics belong. In
addition to these warlike symbols ,
.there might , with propriety , be embla
zoned upon the interior walls of the
edifice , in memorial tablets , the names
of military and naval leaders whose
valor and achievements entitle them
to conspicuous and grateful recogni-
tionand honor along with the illustri
ous Grant.
Mr. Cornell thinks thus would be
created not only an enduring monu
ment , but an institution which every
citizen of the republic would wish to
visit.
' The Climate of Santa Fe.
Letter to N. Y. Sun.
Santa Fe , the capitol of New Mexico ,
is on the river of the same name ,
which , although this is the rainy sea
son , is now quite dry. On all sides of
the city are mountains , either tower
ing up near at hand or in the distance ,
blue and hazy. It is 7,000 feet above
the sea , and the air is so pure that
the very act of breathing is a delight.
Onfirstcomingherepeople say , "What
a lovely morning ! " But this soon
grows monotonous , for nearly all the
mornings are lovely. There has been
but one real rainyday 'this season ,
and a great treat it was. The sun
shines with a brightness that those
who have always lived here cannot
appreciate. But people coming to
Santa Fe from much lower altitudes "
generally have to become acclimated
before they feel very well. A $
little boy whose parents have
moved here from Washington ,
and who had no doubfc _ heard a
good deal about the elevation of the
place , said to a neighbor the other a
that his mother " sick "
day was "very , V
for she had "a bad attack of high alti a
tude. " This illustrates the fact that fl
strangers here , when they do not feel flC
as well as common , always attribute b
it to the altitude. ' .Itiaffeftts/pecrple / in ba ba
: a
' ' ' ' '
various ways. 'So'me da'nnot'breathe bE
at all here. Others , after a few weeks E
of puffing , get use to the air , and have C
no further difficulty ; while others still a
do not notice the change. Judge Flem- fc
ming , the newly appointed Associate fcw
Justice of the Territory , says he can w
not appreciate any difference between a
the air here and that in Kentucky.
Some people cannot sleep in this alti r
tude ; they say the air is too exciting. J
Chief Justice Vincent says that his Jn JS
brother , a perfectly well and strong S
man , was obliged to leave Santa Fe s
because he could not get any sleep
here. Others want to sleep all the p
oi
twenty-four hours ; it requires an ab oiw
solute effort for them to keep awake. j
The climate is said to be a sure cure
w
for throat and lung troubles , if the pa $
tient comes in time , and many ad
vanced cases have been cured. Peo
ple with diseases common in the East
rn
often receive great benefit here. But in
there is rheumatism in Santa Fe , and inni
once in about seven years the small niVI
pox rages , though the latter is chiefly
confined . to the poorer Mexicans , who
live in filth and rags.
ti
An imperfectly prepared witness. aia
"So you swp.ar that at the time this a „
theft was committed on the south side
C
you saw the prisoner on the north Cm
Bide ? " "Yes , sir. " "Was he going m
toward the south side or was he com-
ing from that direction ? " "I can't n
answer that now. " "Why not ? " " "Be ts
cause the prisoner's lawyer forgot to be
tell ne which way north is. " Chicago fo
Mews. tc
Twenty-eight MlJea of
-
Drilling Through
Solid Bock.
The New York Herald gives the fol
lowing account of the progress of the
work of constructing the new tunnel
from Croton lake to the reservoir in
Central Park , a distance of thirty-one
miles : Deep down under the rustling
cornfields , green meadows and peace
ful woods , by the faint yellow light of
innumerable smoky lamps , and the
intermittent cold gleaming froni white
electric lights , six thousanuprimymen
are tunneling night .ind day , so that
the water supply of New lork
may flow through miles of solid
rock. It never ceases , ' .bis ? ' ! . * " * "Y ;
and clanking and whirring anu .ull
booming of powder explosions , save
for two hours out of the twenty-four ,
when 3,000 men drowsily crawl out
of the dim shafts on the surface of the
earth and eat their meat and bread
and go to sleep , while 3,000 other men
take then : places. Since the first of
the year these cold , trickling caverns
and shafts have been drilled and
blasted continually. Hundreds oi
powerful steam drills , driven by
streams of compressed air from won
derful , shining engines , eat into _ _ the
hard rocks like so many steel parasites ,
and mountains of torn gneiss and
shining mica have been piled up around
the shafts as the work went on.
In two years from next Septem
ber a tunnel will reach from Croton
lake to the reservoir in Central Park ,
through the brick and stone lining of
which will gush a body of crystal
water more than enough to supply
the metropolis plenteously. For all
these blessings and'the proud distinc
tion of owning the longest rock tunnel
in the world , the city will have to
pay at least § 33,000,000 , or perhaps
$60,000,000. The Mount Cenis tun
nel is seven miles and a half long , and
cost about $15,000,000 , while the St.
Gotherd tunnel is nine miles and a
quarter long and cost very little more.
Few people in the city have any idea
of the marvelous rapidity with which
the aqueduct tunnel is being made.
Indeed , the speed which is kept up
has attracted the attention of miners
all over the country'for nothing even
approaching to it has ever been seen
before. Over eight thousand men are
employed in the work 6,000 under
the ground and 2,000 on the surface.
At the bottom of each shaft theminera
work in two directions , so that while
one set of men are drilling southward
there is a set of men in another shaft
working northward to meet them. Th'a
shafts are about a mile apart , and yet
so delicate and accurate are the plans
of the engineers that in no case , they
declare , will the line of the tunnel be
more than an inch out of the way ,
when the miners in the different tun
nels meet each other under ground.
. A Great Game of Poker.
Dr. Montreville M. Hedges , formerly
of Newburg , N. Y. , who sat in the great
poker game at Newburg in June , 1881 ,
with William M. Scott and Francis P.
Weed , by which Weed lost $150,000
to Scott , was allowed to take the poor
debtors' oath at Providence R. I.
The detaining creditor was Mr. Joseph
Silsby , of Boston , who refused at the
hearing to produce his claim. Mr.
Hedges left for Philadelphia , but will
return shortly , and says he will bring
suit against Mr. Silsby for false im
prisonment.
DC. Hedges had an elegant place at
Newberg in 1881 , and practiced dental
surgery. He was a lover of fine horse
flesh and had many racers , which were
at that time entered in Western cir
cuits. Francis P. Weed was a neigh
bor who had been left $500,000 by his
father , and one night in June , 1881 ,
as the story was told by Mr. Weed
in Court , Mr. Hedges , Mr. Scott and
Mr. Weed played a friendly game ot
poker in _ the doctor's laboratory. Af
ter playing several games with light
betting Mr. Weed left the room mo
mentarily , and when he returned , he
says , it was proposed to have a
stancher game. Mr. Weed had three
aces in his hand and drew to them ,
getting the fourth ace. Hedges stood
"pat" and Scott.drew one card , and
they began betting in sums of $50 to
$1,000. When the pot was $60,000
Mr. Weed says he declared the game
was foolish , because no one would pay
so much.
The betting continued until the
amount put up was $150,000 , when
Weed called his opponents , and Weed
and Hedges lost to Scott's straight
flush. Mr. Weed said he offered to
compromise ( by paying $20,000 cash ,
but finally signed a note for'$100,000 ,
and-promised to pay $20,000 in cash ,
and did pay $12,500 a little latter.
His note got into the hands of the
Cashier of the Stissing National Bank
at White Plains , and Mr. Weed was
forced to pay $50,000 cash and give
his note for the balance , and after
wards paid $35,000 in money andgave
new note for $ ] 5,000.
On consultation with lawyers , he
refused ( to pay the $15,000 , and on
June 13,1882 , he swore out a war
rant before Justice Barnard , of the
Supreme Court against Hedges and
Scott < , alleging that they "put up" the
poker hands that night when he was
out of the room. Hedges and Scott
were held to the Grand Jury and in-
iicted at Poughkeepsie. Their bail
was $2,000 on a criminal suit and
$15,000 : on the civil suit. Scott after
ward went to California suffering
with consumption and Dr. Hedges
moved away. He has been interested
race-horses since , but his name has
not otherwise come before the publio
rery prominently.
Mr. Edmund Hudson , the editor oi
the Washington Capitol and Army
ind Navy Register , is just completing
memoir of his wife , Mary Clemmer
Eudson , which will be called An Ameri
can , Woman ; Her Life and Work. The
many friends who knew Mary Clem-
aier personally , and the thousands of
icr readers , will look forward with
ntesest to this account of a life , with
: many hardships , which had only
jecome sweet to her as death , which
'or years she IIP i been fighting , over
took her.