PERSONS AND THINGS.
Dn. CATTBLL. ex-president of Lafay
ette college has gone to England.
PEKON , the French lion-tamer , keeps
his money in a box in his lion's cage.
The lion makes a very safe banker.
DREAMER TENNYSON is disturbed
and angry because pushing capital pro
poses to invade his Lsle of Wright with
the iron horse and road.
IN many fertile cereal-growing dis
tricts in southern Russia the crops ,
covering immense areas , are already
beyond hope of recovery , owing to a
long-continued drought and excessive
heat.
CHARLES SPKAGUE PKAKCE'S picture
in the Paris salon this year it is twelve
feet and a half by eight is hung in the
1 "sallc d'honneur , " on the line and in
i
the center of the best panel. Bonnat
told him that he ought to have the
medal , but wouldn't get it
EDWIN P. WIIIITLE was buried on
the thirty-ninth anniversary of his mar
riage day , and the ccflin rested in the
same parlor where the mai'riage cere
mony had been celebrated , as the home
of their wedded life was that of Mrs.
Whipple before her marriage.
A -WHITER says that "Matthew Ar
nold is the most astonished man in
America to-day , " and adds : "The un
animity with which he is over-looked by
both press and public must prove star
tling to him , to say the least. 'Sweet
ness and Light' was good for one trip
only. "
WHEN John Lord , the historian , was
examined for ordination he was asked
by a disciple of Dr. Emmons : "Are you
willing to be damned for the glory of
God ? ' ' His answer came with the force
of an unexpected cannon-shot , "No ;
but I am willing vou should. " He did
O M
not get ordained.
"He was a great big man like Gen.
Butler , and weighed over three hundred
pounds , " said a witness in a contested-
will case in New York the other day.
The general , who was counsel in the
case , blushed all over his shiny bald
head , and quickly cried , "But I do not
weigh over 230 pounds. "
THE eminent play-writer , Georges
Ohnet , is only 38 years old. He was a
lawyer , then a journalist , last a drama
tist. He was dissatisfied with "Le Mai-
tn : de Forges" and threw it into the
fiiv. Mine. Ohnet caught the manu
script from the grate. It has made the
author's fortune and reputation.
THE war ministry at St. Petersburg ! !
has published some interesting statis
tics respecting the number of offenses
in the Russian army punished by court-
martial. During the year 1884 2 per
cent , of all the privates were punished
and about J per cent of the officers.
Among the offenses were nearly five
thousand robberies , and almost as
many cases of desertion and infractions
of disciuliue.
G. W. BALL , of Concord , Mass. , is
living proof in his own person that the
world now and then honors other he
roes than soldiers and statesmen. He
has had nothing to do with grape and
canister , but many years ago nursed
the far-famed lucious
- , palate-tickling ,
Conord grape into being , and in view
of that good piece of work he was the
guest of honor at a dinner given in Bos
ton by appreciated fellow-citizens the
other day.
So far as Paris is concerned , the at
tempt to take the census of the French
population docs not appear to have
been a success. It seems that about 80
percent , of the inhabitants declined to
fill up the forms left them by the regis
trars , who will thus have to collect
their information from "concierges , "
taxpayers' returns , and other not strict
ly trustworthy sources. Some of the
answers were jocular. One gentleman
returned the form supplied him with
the remark : "Ask my mother-in-law. "
Others described their professions as
"expulseurs dc princes , " or "manageurs
de republicans , " while many thousands
replied merely , "Yous etes trop curi-
eur. "
THE opening of the canal , which has
been in process of excavation for the
past five years , for the purpose of
draining * Lake Copais , was celebrated
recently by a brilliant inaugural cere
mony , in presence of the French min
ister and numerous distinguished per
sons from Athens. Lake Copais , which
is situated near Thebes , in Bceotia , co
vers an area of over sixty thousand
acres , or nearly a hundred square miles.
The French company which has been
engaged in carrying out the enter
prise is now so far advanced with its
work that two-thirds of the water of
the lake are expected to be drawn off
within the next two or three months.
Hitherto this inland sea has been chiefly
remarkable for the malaria and fevers
regularly prevailing on its shores dur
ing the hot season. By its drainage ,
not only will this evil be permanently
removed , but Greece will add to her
territory many thousands of acres of
arable soil of the greatest fertility.
The lake is fed by the rivers coming
down from Mount Parnassus , whose
waters are herafter to be employed ,
by lielp of a new system of canals , in i
irrigating the surrounding country.
ONE OF THE OLD GUARD.
A. Soldier IVlio Followed the Fortunes
of the Great Xapoleon from
Ezypt toVatcrloo. .
The other day there died and was
buried at St John's church , st Logan ,
Hocking county , "a last survivor" of
the grand army of Napoleon , writes a
Columbus correspondent of The Cin
cinnati Enquirer. His name was Chris-
lophor Stahley , and he was born in Al
sace in Augns't 1783 , and therefore fell
only two months short of 103 years.
During the past quarter of a century
[ met the old hevo frequently , and he
was always full of French enthusiasm ,
and there was no one but the "great
Napoleon" in his estimation. He was
i man of considerable culture as well
as French enthusiam , and his descrip
tion of his campaigns grew eloquent ,
intermingled with queer French inter
jections , expletives , and parentheses.
He was a typical veteran of the wars.
The thumb and index finircr of his
right hand were gone. His left elbow
had been shattered and his arm was
stiff and almost useless. Across his
well-outlined forhead was a broad , rod
scar , a memento of some cuirassier's
tempered steel. A crutch and a cane
answered for a leg that was gone be
tween the ankle and the knee.
Some years ago , one day when he
was particularly communicative , I pre
vailed on him to tell me the story of
his campaigns. That story was long ,
and fervid in its descriptions , full of
glowing adjectives and French paren
theses and ejaculations , which could
not be translated. Shorn of a large
proportion of its flowers of rcctoric ,
the story may be thus epitomized :
"I became a soldier at 15 , and was
one of the thirty thousand men who
ivcnt with Napoleon to Egypt , and was
one of the first to enter the city of Mal
ta. I was with my command at the
pyramids , and participated in tho terri
ble conflict with the Mamelukes.
Thence across the desert and through
the Isthmus of Suez to Gaza and Jaffa ,
and saw Hie 1,500 put to death for
Breaking their parole , and helped io
annihilate the allied army of 18,000 at
Aboukir. I returned with my com
mander to France and saw him made
first consul. In 1800 we went to Italy ,
and it was at Marengo that the man of
destiny turned defeat into victory. The
peace of Amiens gave us a holiday. It
was in 1804 that we helped to proclaim
him emperor and saw the preparations
made to invade England. But England
was spared and Austria punished in
stead. I was in the thickest of the light
at Austerlitz , and took part in most of
the minor engagements that preceded
it. I did my share in bringing Prussia
to her knees at Jena in 18U6. Taking a
little breathing spell , we again turned
ouv attention to Austria , and ended our
triumphant campaign at Wagram by
Ink ng 20,000 prisoner1 Thrceycars of
preparation and we AVCTC on the road
to the capital of Eussia in the memora
ble campaign of 1812. There were 480-
000 of us who went forth to glory.
Less than half that number returned ,
and the most of them after being de
tained as prisoners. I saw them fall
by battalions at Smolensk and Borodino
and perish by grand divisions on
the retreat from Moscow to Smorgo-
ni. 1 personally attended the emperor to
France when he bade adieu to his
soldiers at the latter city. At Lutzen
and Butzen I saw him winnow victories
at the head of a fresh army. I saw the
dastard Saxon allies desert at Lcipsic ,
endured the fatigues and dangers of the
retreat across the Rhine. Of 350,01)0
soldiers who entered Germany , only
70,000 answered roll-call on French
soil. On the last day of March , 1814 ,
the allies took Paris , the emperor ab
dicated , and was banished to Elba. His
old soldiers then waited for his coming
again , and in June , 1815 , at the head
of 120,00 heroes he met united Europe
at Waterloo anc. lost his empire , but
not his fame and glory , I was one of the
old guard. There is a blank in my
memory , and I do not know how I got
back to Paris , but I found myself there
and learned that my old commander
was a prisoner at St Helena. Then
came the news of his death. I had
taken part in fifty engagements , great
and small , and had seen men die by the
thousand ; but that death affected me
more than all the rest put together. "
"But you have omitted to "tell where
you received your wounds ? You lost
your leg at Waterloo , of course ? "
"Strangely enough , during sixteen
years of campaign and in fifty battles I
never received a wound not even a
scratch. The emperor told me often
that I bore a charmed life. "
"But how did you receive all these
wounds and scars ? "
"Amid the security of peace. In
1822 , in company with my wife , I emi
grated to America. We reached Pitts
burgh by stage. From there we floated
down the Ohio on a flat-boat to the
mouth of the Muskingum , and ascend
ed that river to Zanesville in a canoe.
From Zanesville I trundled all my
earthly possessions in a wheelbarrow to
St Joseph's , near Somerset , where I
bought a farm and settled down. Then
began my disasters. My eldest son was
with me in the forest hewing logs for a
barn , and. by a false stroke of the
broadax cut oft'my thumb and finger.
A few years later a vicious horse kicked
me and left that scar that looks like a
saber cut. The next year I fell from a
tobacco-house I was helping to raise
and broke four ribs and my collarbone.
Ten years later I slipped and fell into a
thrashing-machine and I had my foot
torn off. A few years ago I was on my
way to church and my horse ran away ,
threw me out of the carriage , shattered
my elbow and left me with a stiff arm.
"
1 "am in constant dread of meeting a
fatal accident. Had I remained in the
grand army of the emperor , I would
feel perfectly safe. " ,
The old hero who had escaped the
hail-storm of death upon a hundred
battle-fields , and survived the accidents
of pastoral peace , grappled unsuccess
fully at last with the grim conqueror
upo"n his quiet couch , guarded round
about by liis children and his children's
children , whose love and devotion could
avail nothing. And thus passed away
another of the few survivors who helped
to write that "purple page in the his
tory of Belgium , " and saw the future
history of Europe turned from a new
channel at Waterloo and keep along
the sluggish course of reactionary mon-
archism.
\
WITH FORTY-EIGHT WOUNDS.
A Battle-Scarred % 'etcran of the First
Maine Buttery.
Among the battle-scarred veterans of
the civil war who went from J\Iaine \ is
John F. Chase , of Augusta , says The
Lcwiston ( Me. ) Journal. He was a
rugged farmer's boy , 18 years of age ,
when , prompted by a sense of loyalty ,
he rallied to his country's defense. He
was the fifth one who enlisted in this
state under the first call for troops in
18G1. Four brothers of his enlisted ,
two of whom were killed , and two were
wounded. He took part in all the bat
tles of the Potomac from the iirst Bull
Hun to Gettysburg. During his entire
term of service the post of duty and of
danger always found him present This
is the testimony of his captain , which
has often been expressed. He never
aspired to rank , not even to wearing
the chevrons ot a corporal. lie was
content , as well as proud , in simply bo-
ing cannoneer .No. 1 of the 5th Maine
battery. Two weeks ago Private Chase
was in Washington , when Gen. Black ,
commissioner of pensions , in introduc
ing him to his friends , said : "Here's a
man who probably h's more wounds on
his person than any other soldier liv
ing. "
Gen. Black did not speak unadvised
ly. For nearly three years Private
Chase went through every arduous and
tryiiiff campaign of his battery without
a scratch , to be at last battered and
broken by a rebel shell on the bloody
iield of Gettysburg. He bears forty-
eight wounds as the mementos of that
battle. It scarcely seems credible that
one could have passed through such a
fearful baptism of blood and still sur
vive. The story may be told in a few
words :
The 5th Maine battery was attached
to the First corps , under Gen. Rey
nolds. It was the third day of the light ,
and tho battery was posted on Semina-
rv or Wood's hill. The rebel Gen.
Pickctt was making his famous charge
on our left center , and a terrible artil
lery duel was in progress. The battery
was in a hard place , being between
cross-fires. The air was full of the
missiles of death. The heroic Chase ,
with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his
face black with powder and smoke ,
was in the act of ramming home a car
tridge when- rebel shell fell about
thi'ee feet from him and burst. The
fragments ilew in all directions. Chase
was thrown nearly a rod from his gun
and fell insensible. His clothes were
literally stripped from his body. His
right arm was blown off , his left eye
literally torn from its socket , while his
breast and shoulders were gashed with
wounds. He was carried to the rear.
Two days after , when the dead were
buried , he was being conveyed with
others to the grave. A groan from him
attracted attention , and he was discov
ered to be alive. Upon recovering con-
sc'ousness ' the first words that came to
his lips were : "Did we win the battle ? "
Private Chase's pluck at Chancellors-
ville received the commendation of Gen.
Hooker. His battery was facing a most
destructive lire from the enemy's bat
teries. All the officers and men of his
battery being either killed or wounded ,
he. with another brave comrade , fired
his gun seven times after the other
guns of the battery had ceased work.
The gun was then dragged oil' by the
two , the horses having been shot or dis
abled , to prevent its capture by tho en
emy , which shortly afterward occupied
the position that had been vacated by
our retreating forces.
Private Chase talks with enthusiastic
earnestness about the splendid record
the 5th Maine battery made during the
war , but in his modesty rarely if ever
alludes to the gallant part he bore in
its many sanguinary contests. He is
now 43 years of age , and receives a pen
sion of $36 a month from , the govern
ment , which will shortly be increased to
$46 a month by a special act just pass
ed by congress upon the recommenda
tion of Gen. Black. During the past
two sessions of the Maine legislature he
has served as a messenger in the house
of representatives.
California Gold.
In early clays California was peopled
with miners. Men did not come to
this state to farm. When they did
cultivate the soil it was merely for the
purpose of supplying the people already
here with food. No one dreamed of
the fertility of the California valleys.
Gradually , however , the laud was
brought into cultivation , and wheat be
came of more importance to the state
than gold. The state became so
agricultural that men , unless brought
actually in contact with the mines ,
"
hardly "realized that they were still be
ing carried on as of old. Then came
the Sawyer decision , which , it was pre
dicted , would put an end to mining in
some of the richest parts of the state.
But all the time mining has been
prosecuted with all its old vigor. The
product of gold was , it is true , serious
ly affected by the Sawyer decision , and
declined in the same time from $18,200 ,
000 in 1881 to $12,996,594 in 1884 ; but
the silver product of the state increas
ed from $750,000 to $1.504.705. The
Sawyer dicision paralyzed certain
parts of the state , but the paralysis
was only temporary. Miners being
unable to use water as before edveloped
the quartz mines. All through the
country blighted by the famous decision
a revival is occurring. Old abandoned
mines are being worked and prospectors
arc looking for ledges. Miners are
going back again to the regions from
which they fled. The gold is in the
"
California"mountains and will be taken
out. If water cannot be used as hereto
fore other means will be devised. Cali
fornia has led the states and territories
as a golil-producer for many years ,
and will continue to do so for many
years to come. San Francisco Haiti/
Lltporl.
A vear ago last February John E'rtel ,
"
of Bl"e.ckerN.Y.started to go to S.lver
lake alone. He was never seen again ,
and it was thought that he had been
frozen to death. The other day a part }
of Gloversvillc fishermen found , not fai
from the lake , an India-rubber "jool
containing the bones of a human foot
The boot has been identified as out
worn bv Ertel.
, THE SMOKING-CAR.
It Is Accessary to lildc In One to Ex
perience tlie Full Interest of
Hallway Travel.
Nothing is more noticeable in the
summer travel , which grows yearly and
is now getting lively as the season ad
vances , than the extent of the smoking
habit in this country. On every train
bound for the suburban ulaccs or to
Atlantic City or the Long Branch range
of resorts , no matter what other car
has room in it , the smoking-car is
almost sure to be crowded. There are ,
indeed , summer trains going out of
Broad street station that require two
cars to contain the lovers of the fra
grant weed that "cheers but not inebri
ates. " The is the
smoking-car one re
maining relic in steam-railway travel
of the cai'ly days of railroading , in
which so many American characteristics
found a place. It is one of the last rel
ics of what may be termed the shirt
sleeve age. Palace-cars and bourdoirs
and drawing-rooms and restaurants on
wheels have multiplied , and one by one
the free-and-easy traveling habits of
earlr railroad days have been driven
from one end of the train to another
until they have sought and found final
refuge in the smoking-car. It is there
that in hot weather sweltering humani
ty sits in shirt-sleeves and even throws
down his suspenders , while the fat man
and fat men are almost always great
travelers linds relief by a general
loosening up of horizontal straps and
equatorial buckles. Dusters are not in
frequent , but such is the love of comfort
and such the latent rebellion against all
conventional restraints on the part of
the natural man in warm weather that
he loves the smoker and rushes for it
on all occasions. Married men have
been known to resort to the most des
perate expedients and to promise their
wives new bonnets and all sorts o
things for the privilege of getting away
for half an hour or so in the smoking-
car.
car.Not
Not all men who love the smoking-
car are smokers , some seeking only the
freedom and deshabille of the one spot
on the train where fair and particular
womandind can not enter ; but as a rule
a necessary adjunct to every man in
the smoking-car is a cigar or a pipe ,
as that once-considered plebeian form
of tobacco consumption is now con
sidered quite fashionable. Cigars , of
course , predominate , and their narcotic
efflorescence represents every shade of
natural and artificial llavoring , for the
chemical doctoring of cigars is fast be
coming one of the familiar sciences.
No one can have any adcqr. te idea of
the extent of the manufactu > ; and con
sumption of bad cigars unt'l ' they take
in . An thcr insti
a trip a smoking-car. >
tution associated with the smoking-car
is the private bottle. Gradually the
pistol is being boycotted , and the pri
vate llask , often nickle-plated and in
cased in leather , like some more deadly
weapon , is taking its place in the mas
culine hip-pocket Some surprises
greet the unsophisticated mind in the
smoking-car. The most sedate and
pious-looking traveler , who , in a par
lor-car , might be mistaken for a dea
con , takes his swig from his suddenly
revealed llacon de poche with all the
gusto of a tippling grenadi' r.
Another necessary adjunct of the
smoking-car is the euchre deck and
kindred poker-chips , though , so far as
known , these furnishings are invariably
the result of private enterprise. As
yet the railroad companies have gone
no further than to provide adjustable
tables to place across the seats for the
accommodation of all the lovers of the
little joker and such as worship at the
shrine of the jack-pot. There is hard
ly a train bound for tiie seashore that
is without a premeditated or impro
vised card party in the smoking-car ,
and once in a while some would-be
player representing an incomplete
party goes around soliciting a partner
to " make up the gamethough this
is looked upon somewhat as a violation
of the ethics of travel.
The inevitable newspaper is another
smoking-car institution. The boy who
carries around books transacts but lit
tle business in the smoking-car. The
average man , and especially the aver
age traveling man , is not much of 11
book-reader. Ho linds all he wants ,
and sometimes more than he wants ,
in the daily newspaper , which furnishes
a complete and entirely satisfactory
mental pabulum.
One of the things that can not fail to
be noticed in a smoking-car is the
anxious look , the haggard expressions ,
the exhibitions of the tired-out feeling
among the men who are tr . ing to es
cape , perhaps for only a day or two ,
from the terrible business tension and
everincreasing pressure of professional
and commercial cares. The wear and
tear of modern mammon comes out
strong in the smoking-car. The great
increase of orders and sociciios , secret
and otherwise , which men join from
benevolent motives or to imke provi
sion for sudden death , the dangers of
which are increased by the complica
tions of modern life , is al < o a very
noticeable feature. Almost every man
wears some sort of symbol , as a scarf-
pin , a finger-ring , or more generally as
a watch-charm. The extent to which
the cross , the symbol of Christianity ,
enters into these ornamental evidences
is one of the indications that the re
ligious spirit , which is so weak in many
of the churches , ma } " possibly be find
ing some manifestations through other
agencies that have as their basis the
essence of all religicn charity.
Another very noticeable thing in n
smoking-car is the decay of the dude.
When the dude was prominent the
pungent odor of cigaretts filled the air.
Now there is hardly a cigarette to be
seen. Once in a while some faint ,
modified relic of dudedom may be seen
in a parlor-car , but in a smoking-car
nevei. The healthy , common sense ,
thoroughly American atmosphere of
the smoking-car is not congenial , and
in it the.dude , even if he still existed ,
which he does not , would feel exotic.
The dude has departed. Instead of the
smooth chins and dainty little mutton-
chop side-whiskers , which were an ac
companiment of the dude era , men are
to a great extent wearing full beards ,
and in their clothes and general get-up
have a practical , business-like , com
mon-sense air that : s manly in the ex
treme and as remote as possible from
effeminacy or dilettantcism. All in all.
no one lias experienced the full interest
of railway travel until they have ridden
in a smoking-car. Philadelphia , Times.
Big Jim Was There.
"He's a bully ! "
"lie's a coward ! "
' He's got to hang ! "
"That's his third man ! "
The one narrow street of the frontier
town was filled with a surging crowd ol
excited men , There were Indian light-
tors , scoutcrs , gamblers , tramps , min
ers , speculators everything and every
body.
Every town has its bully every
frontier town. Big Jim was the Bully
of Hill City , and the story of his last
adventures stamps him as a man wjiom
some would call heroic. He could
drink more , curse louder , shoot quicker ,
and start a row sooner than any other
man. When he shot Limber Joe it was
a standoff. It was rough against rough.
Whoever went under the lovrn would
be the gainer. The death of his second
victim brought him a certain respect ,
for he had given the man a fair show.
There was a limit to the number of men
one might kill in Hill City. It was three
times and out. Big Jim'tiad killed his
third.
Two hundred men all excited some
half crazed all indignant some ter
ribly aroused , surged down the street
to the Red Star saloon bent on ven
geance. Big Jim and the man he had
killed were alone in the place.
"Bring him out ! "
"lie's got to hang ! "
"Bring out the bully and coward ! "
There was a rush , but it was checked.
Men had pistols and knives in their
hands , but the sight of Big Jim with a
big "navy" in eacii hand cooled their
ardor. A life for a life is no revenge.
They lied when they called him a bully.
Bullies strike and run , or bluster and
dare not strike. They lied when they
called him a coward. Cowards do not
remain to face death.
Big Jim advanced a little. The
crowd fell back. He stood in the door
and surveyed the mob as another man
might have looked up at the pine-cov
ered crest of Carter's Peak. The mob
grew quiet. There were 200 right
hands clutching deadly weapons , but
not a hand moved. Two hundred to
one is appalling oilds , but the one was
master. Seeming to face every man of
them seeming to cover every breast
with the black muzzles of his revolvers
the man backed away up the road in
to the darkness , out of their sight and
hearing. He said not a word. There
wasn't a whisper from the crowd until
ho had disappeared. Then men drew
long breaths of relief. A terrible men
ace had passed away.
Out into tho darkness down the
rough road over the rude bridge , and
there Big Jim put up his revolvers ,
turned his face square to the west and
stepped out without a look back to the
camj ) . It was ten miles to Harney's
Bend. Men driven from the one camp
took refnjre in the other. The half
way landmark was a bit of a valley
skirted by a creek. Wayfarers who
were journeying by team "many times
halted there. On this night there was
a lone wagon. Under the canvas cov
er slept a mother and four children.
Resting against a wheel was the hus
band and father , his eyes piercing into
the darkness his cars drinking in
every sound.
Big Jim had not reached the valley
yet when the still night air was rent
with war whoops , the crack of rifles ,
the screams of a woman and her child
ren. Indians had discovered the lone
and almost defenseless family. There
were five scalps to adorn their lodges.
The bully and the coward had not been
discovered. Ho could find a safe hiding
place. Did helj
A half dozen screaming , yellow fiends
were dancing about the wagon shoot
ing , striking , dodging , closing in on
the one white man , who somehow es
caped their blows and bullets when
there was a cheer and a rush and the
navys began to crack. Sixty seconds
later dead silence had fallen upon the
valley.
One two three dead Indians. The
immigrant leaned against the wagon ,
faint , with a wound in IMS head. Bul
lets had chipped and splintered wheel
ind body.
"Who arc you ? " asked the immi
grant , as a ligure approached him from
; he darkness.
"Big Jim. "
"You have s.ived us from a massa
cre. "
"Yes , and there is no further dan
ger. "
When the blaze caught the fresh
ragots and lighted up the little valley
the immigrant counted the dead In
dians again one two three. He
: nrued with extended hand , but Big
Jim had departed. Next day , when
men from Hill's and Harney's found
lis dead body beside the rocks a mile
away , with five wounds which had let
iis life blood out , they v/hispercd to
each other :
"We thought we knowcd him. but
we didn't. " Omaha lice.
She Was Loaded.
In many places young ladies are
earning to shoot revolvers , and if they
don't kill anybody that ought not to be
killed it is all right enough. If all
, 'oung ladies understood the use of a
revolver , and would only use them for
irotection , it would be a gooil thing.
At Whitewater , one evening last week
i young lad } was walking on the street
inattended , when she was accosted by
i man who proceeded to make himself
quite fresh. She asked him to go away
md let her alone , but he laughed ha !
ha ! She told him that she was only a
poor girl , an orphan , and that he ought
: o be ashamed of himself to interfere
with her. He smiled , and was about to
put his hands on her , when she drew a
revolver from her pistol pocket , cocked
it , and pointed it at his eye , with her
delicate linger on the trigger. Well ,
the man dropped that girl like a hot
potato , and he lit out so quick that she
missed him very much. There was
never a man in the world that was as
scarce as he was , and the girl laughed
lie ! he ! He did not know she was load
ed , but she was. Feck's Sun.
*
.
Tlio Indian Sim .Dance. , „ , . , vs
The wild Indian sun daiv-e. wh'ch " *
r
was held for the last time during June , -
1883 , with its barbarous and cruel Sn-
llictions. is one of the historical parts
that will never again be repeated. The
writer was present at that sun dance ,
and the only scenes that will again
greet his or any other eyes are views
that were taken on the spot , and which ,
but for the iron will of tho Indian
agent , would never have been taken ,
so superstitious were the IndiaiJ'X '
against it f >
Prior to tho completion of the sun j
dance c'rclc , when three days are taken
to feastinjr on dog soup , giving away
ponies , cattle and everything else that
gives evidence that the "heart is good , "
the chiefs , sub-chiefs and head men
meet in council in some woodland ,
where they select twelve virgins who
are to do the honor of cutting the pole.
A number of young Indians are ap
pointed to make search for a good polo
for the occasion ( which has , however ,
been selected a long time before ; but
they must go through certain preten
sions so as to make themselves appear
proper ) , and finally , after considerable
delay , the twelve virgins each take an
axe , and give the pole one cut , the
young bucks finishing the job. Tho
crossing of a stream is supcrstitiously
forbidden , and when the young Indians
are ready they march in triumph to the
place selected for its "planting. " He-
fore them rush a thousand young
braves on ponies , who fire off rifles and
revolvers until outside the limits of the
encampment , which together with their
yells , would drive off any evil spirits
that might be hanging around ; and
that is their part in the play. The polo
is raised and green brush is placed in a
circle about it , while the pole itself is
gorgeously decorated with strips of
calico in all the brilliant hues , which
have been placed there as offerings from
some dusky maiden or old squaw.
The sun dance among these wild peo
ple is a barbarous religion with them.
During tho year an Indian has prayed
to the Great Spirit for fortune in hunt
ing , restoration of health or some other
wish , for which he promises , if the
prayer is granted , to make some sacri
fice or dance at the annual sun dance ,
which was usually held during the
month of June. It is composed of
fasting and feasting combined , tho
ones who have made vows fasting for
several days , and those are to "see
them through" feasting on delicious
young dogs made into soup. Mothers
who have asked the Great Spirit for
some favor bring their babes and young
children to be "gouged" ' in the ears
with anything but sharp knives by tho
'medicine men" ( who are on hand in
great numbers ) , the girls receiving two
inflictions in each ear and the boys one ,
for which the medicine man receives : i
pony or two. Uromen have their arms ,
shoulders or faces cut as they may
have promised at the time. Groups of
men and women dance with upturned
faces to the burning sun , tooting con
tinuously a whistle made of an ante
lope's bone. All these are preliminary
to the most barbarous and painful
task of being brave. The young
men who have fixed their hearts
upon this torture by going
through tiie or.leal of being cut
in the two breasts and a sinew passed
through the wounds , are tied to a rope
attached to the stationary sun dance
pole , which they endeavor to break out
: > y continuous dancing and jerking.
Their faces are lifted to the scorching
June sun while they blow on the ante-
one bone whistle. To contribute to
their success , some near friend or rela
tive throws out sticks to the surround-
ng crowds , and a scramble is made to
secure them , as each stick entitles the
lolder to a pony. Invoking the Great
Spirit for success is general by the
medicine men , while groups of dancers
with whistles and bands of nearly naked
wild men , painted in all colors , yellow ,
green , red , blue , black , white or pur-
) le. in whole , in part or combinations ,
with the designs of hands , horse shoe
prints , horses. Indians , ete. . go through
uournfiil singing to the beats of a dozen
jjrcat drums , making the eonglornera-
ion of noises anything but what a band
eader would term "harmony. " On
, hc occasion to which this article refers
nit one out of the three succeeded in
jroaKing tho flesh from the breasts
ind he proved the meanest as well as
uravest the others fainting : and some
jf the few whites present became faint
hemss'lves during the progress of this
lorrible torture.
At the close of this festival , lasting
ibout eiijht days , the Indians returned
o their homes to find themselves either
richer or poorer than when they left ;
> ut a large store-house of rations fur
bished by the government supplied
heir wants to at least a limited extent
On their return home they found what
ew crops they had put in before they
eft had either got behind the growth
the weeds or eaten by stray scock.
Thus the progressive Indian failed to
> rogrcss , and the government did a
nost sensible act when it abolished the
tin dance , which every Indian was
compelled to attend or be held in dis
grace by the leaders.Creiyhton ( Y
A Harvest Song.
lio ! ye reapers , merry reapers !
Through the fields a-sinjring tro ,
And the summer wind in whispers ,
Bends the wild flowers to and fro.
List ! The song of scythe and sickle ,
Mingled with the reaper's plaint ,
While the macpie , wise and tickle.
Scolds and scolds in laiiua < re quaint
Now the bearded srain is falling ,
Golden rrain with beaded head :
Hark ! Yon meadow-lark is calling :
' Spare my babes their trundle bed. "
f
Ho ! ye reapers ! Harvest grand !
Siiiir and toil this summer day- ;
There is plenty in our laud , .
Peace and plenty lioldeih sway. J
Gay Jj'ividsuH , in , Chicago Times. j
i
A church at Great Barrington. Me. .
tvas recently given a $ 100,000 parson-
ige and $30,000 or < ran by a lady , but
he congregation does not relish the
dea of raising the pastor's salary so
hat he can maintain the palace par
sonage. The organ is of peculiar con
struction in the power of making com
pilations. It is continually getting out
of repair , and there is no available or
ganist who can get any better effects
rom the organ than from one costing
$3.000 or thereabouts.
* *