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About The Red Cloud chief. (Red Cloud, Webster Co., Neb.) 1873-1923 | View Entire Issue (May 18, 1888)
m RED CLOUD CHIEF A. C. HOSMER, Proprietor. RED CLOUD. - NEBRASKA THE PRESENT DAYS ARE BEST. The pact is dead and buried, and I have locked the door Upon its joys and sorrows, to open never more; Its key is safely bidden on memory's faithful breast. And to my heart I whisper: "The present days are best." Think not I have forgotten the cherished friends of yore, Call them not lost, my loved ones, they're just within the door: And often when I'm lonely, they share my even ing rest. And their dear voices whisper: "The present days are best." O golden days of childhood! O girlhood's sunnj hours! When in the fragrant wildwood I plucked the summer flowers. Your very memory cheers me like some dear, welcomed guest; Yet chide me not forsaying: "The present days are best." Dear are the friendly faces that meet mc on the way. Sweet are the roadside blossoms that smile on me to-day; A few bright sprays m gather, and wear them on my breast. For they, too, softly whisper: "The present days are best." To do the work appointed by Him who rules my life. To face, with dauntless spirit, the world's op posing strife. Or if, in utter weakness, e'er noonday I must rest. God wills it, and I answer: "The present days are best." O friendB, who count your dearest among the silent dead. Sit not within the shadows, mourning the joys now tied; The living claim your service, and they indeed are blest Who help to make for others the present days the best. Angeligue Dt Lan.de. TREAN; OR THE MORMON'S DAUGHTER. By ALVA HILTON KERR. Written While Living in Utah. Copyrighted, I5S7, by the A. X. Kelloog AVim paptr Co. All Rightt Interred. CHAPTER X. COSTISCED. Meantime the Prophet, with his train, had gone on his way with a balmy forgiving exterior but a cold and rankling heart. He had said with a holy smile of conimiseratiou as his carriage was starting, "that the Lord would avenge the insult given His servant, and cut off the wicked in His own good time," but to Parley he had said; "Pick out a man to do the work if Beam fails; Rock well and my men will attend to the fellow if he comes over to the city! you had best manage some way to send this very smart young sister over to Smoot's too, and I will see personally to her case." And the Bishop had assented with great deference,but when the Prophet's carriages had gone, and he stood alone in the tithing office, he glowered darkly at the floor for a long time in silence. At last he threw him self heavily into a chair and brought his fist down ou the desk with a crash. ""Who else, I'd like to know, is going to get between me and that girl J" he snorted. "Here's Arsen and Beam, both under me, and this infernal Yankee, that I've got no control over, and now who but the Presi dent of the Church himself, with his foot on my gullet, has his nose pointed in the same direction ! Now, blank me, if some body ain't goin' to get fooled in this little affair! and if it's mc I think the rest '11 find 'emselves in the same boat when the game's over.or my name's not Hyrum Parley!" and he glowered more blacklv than ever. At that there came a timid tap or two upon the door, and he growled, roughly: "Well, come in!" In response to his surly invitation one of his wives entered, a tall, well-formed, young Scandinavian woman, with light hair, fair skin and blue but not very intelligent eyes. She was his latest acquisition, one of a band of Mormon im migrants cent to settle about Mooseneck. She had come without parent or relative, having been decoyed away from her pleas ant home by the specious promises and saintly wiles of aMormon missionary. Upon the arrival of the company she had at once been chosen by the Bishop as a servant, as is much the custom, and presently became his wife. For a time she had reigned as the acknowledged favorite, but her charm for her lord, which in such a case could hardly be else than of questionable and ephemeral character, had begun to wane. "Well, what is it now, Cistenc!" he asked, without looking up. "Lucy hafe whipped my chile!" she cried, with quivering lip. "Lucy was the first wife, and rather old and acrid, and the Bishop's brow grew puck ered and thundery. He made a movement as if to rise, then a thought seemed to in tervene, and he smoothed the trenches out of his brow, and, with a rather sheepish blandncss, drew the weeping girl down on his lap and kissed her. "Cistenc," he said, "I am thinking of tak ing another wife soon, a girl who will make these fussy fools keep to their knittiu' ! Of course, Cistene, I shall always love you best, and I am going to build you a little house on the empty lot across the street there so you may live unmolested. Of course I want your consent, though," he added, coaxingly. The poor thing looked at him through her tears. "Why, iss there not now enough J" she implored. "Why do you need more when there iss so much tears now and mis scry!" "Oh, that is the way the Lord's kingdom is built up. you know, Cistenc ! Besides, the Lord has shown Brother Young that it is my duty to take another wife: that I am to marry a certain party for His name's honor i and ffiory. bhe will take your apartment in the house, Cistene, but you arc to have the little new house over the way when it is built, you know." The girl disengaged herself and stood up. "You hafe stop the love," she sobbed. "When I been put away and leaf over there you not coome or care for mc any more!" And she started toward the door. The Bishop got up and put his arms about her and began to coax and wheedle again. Among other cheerful things he told her it was the Lord's command that she should acquiesce wjlliugly, and not complain to the neighbors or make unseemly scenes, and that the greater the number of his wives the more certainty there was of her own salvation and the higher her piace Ui Heav en, since her salvation depended upon Mm, and M position in glory depended upon the number of his queens and increase. He did not trouble himself about the other wifely partners in the ownership of his jieart; they had ail been displaced one by one, and would be pleased enough to see this blue-eyed favorite pushed from the scat of preference. "Come, now, Cistene, I will go with you and sec about this trouble," he said, cheer fully, and she followed him from the tith-ing-ofllce across the yard to the long dwell ing and through that to the back yard. This large inclosure was divided into little squares of ground, into each one of which a back door entered from an apartment. Here in these little yards an attempt was made to keep the children of each wife separate, and each wife was forbidden to punish the children of another. Back of the yards were largo gardens, and on either side orchards; beyond the garden were barns and cowsheds, and beyond those were past arcs and fields, and in all of these the wives and older children worked, in largo measure supporting themselves. Indeed, the keeping of this establishment was not nearly so taxing to its head as, to glance at its proportions, one might sup pose. Almost every thing consumed by mouth within its precincts was produced from the soil by the wives and their off spring; great ricks of dead timber for fuel were "snaked" with oxen from the mount ain sides without cost; two of the older wives were supplied with looms upon which the wool from a largo flock of sheep was woven into cloth, supplying in great part the apparel of the family, while the Bishop in handling the tithes had the free permis sion of the Head of the Church to convert these large quantities of butter, eggs, grain, beeves, etc., into cash, and. after turning a certain sum into the church treasury, to re serve the remainder for himself. Thus the taking of another wife was to the Bishop of small import beyond the act itself, as indeed with most polygamists among these mount ains owing mainly to the same ignoble cause. When Cistenc, wecpingly, and her lord, now with a thundery front, entered the back yard an angry scene ensued, a scene of accusation and denunciation that shall remain unpicturcd here, save a glimpse as it closed of a man seizing a woman with gray hair and faded face by the throat, and roughly thrusting her backward through a gateway and slamming it after her, with the rather heated injunction that she keep it and her mouth closed. He had loved her once, when she was young and slender and fair, and had sworn to love and cleave to none other than she. But had she been faithful.' Yes, as only a woman can be; had crossed a continent through suffering and peril to please him ; had watched with him in sickness, borne him children, toiled at the Iojui to clothe children that were his but not hers, aud had been worn out in his cause, yet had long been cast off and spurned about like an outworn garment. But the doughty Bishop had placated Cistene. aud that was the main point: the light flick upon the car of her naughty child by a toil-worn grief-tortured woman, whose place the child's mother had usurped, had been avenged. Six times the first wife had seen her throne in her hus band's heart and home taken by a fresh form, and with each chaugc felt herself pushed farther and farther into debasing service and neglect. Yet she was helpless. She had no other home, no other shelter; her life here and. she believed, hereafter, hung upon the humble endurance of a per petual outrage. In short, hers was the common lot of elderly women ia polygamy, the most soul-starving, heart-breaking life that can fall to womankind. The next morning, which was the second after Elchard's departure, the Bishop, clothed in his best apparel and most agree able countenance, came in through Burl Hartman's gate and tapped respectfully at the door. Trean came in response, and with a start and change of expression be trayed her fear and dislike of their visitor. Verv bland and obsequious he was, how ever, as with hat in hand, his black hair plastered smoothly against his temples and reached up over a narrow forehead, his wide and bulky person clad in a heavy ill fitting suit of brown, aud his dark eyes twinkling, he stood before her. "Good niorniu'. Miss Hart man I"' he said, with explosive affability, putting out his fat hand, "how's your father;"' "He is not very well, thank you," said Trean, but she did not put her hand in the one extended toward her. If the penalty of refusal had been her life it seemed to her she could not; no, not after Paul Elchard had held her hand in his loving and unpol luted palm aha kissed it. But she placed a chair for the Bishop and invited him to be seated with what decency of speech and manner she could command. He accepted it without affecting notice of the affront she had proffered him, but with a smoky look about the eyes. "When was Brother Hartman taken sick!" he inquired. "Sabbath morning just before meeting." "Ah, yes; I remember I did not notice him there." He might have added, had it been an interview less charged with a purpose HE LOVED HEIl OKCK.' personal to himself, that the lady lcforc him had in his opinion shown just ground for censure on that sacred occasion, and would be expected to disclose the spiritual condi tion of her heart to him, and that if too little faith and humility seemed in the keeping of that organ, its owner would be set apart for discipline. But the Bishop, for the mo ment at least, felt this course inimical to his purpose, and only added in effect that Dr. Dubette had apprised him of Brother Hart man's illness but the evening previous; that he would be glad to see him. Trean went into the adjoining room, and, putting back the curtains from the little window that a stronger light might enter, bade the Bishop come in, then went about her household duties. When he came out she was sweeping in the porch. "Your father's feebler than I supposed." he said, pausing by the door with hat in hand. "Yes," faltered the girl, with a pitiful look. She was standing back in the long, narrow porch, over which morning glories and grape vines ran, and her line figure was starred with Hakes of sifted sunshine. " Yes, I'm 'f mid he's not long for this world." said the Bishop, coming toward her with his small greedy eyes ou lire with any thing but sympathy. "You will soo.i be alone in the cold world, Itiiss Hartuian' and without a home. Let me offer you a place inmine!'' and he put out disarms as if to embrace her. The girl drew oaex as from soaiethhi!; horrible. For a moment there ' .. was an expression of fear and loathing on her face, then she stood clear and erect, pouring a level freezing look into his eyes. " 2fo," she said, "I can't even thank you for such an offer, much less accept it. I'd rather go into my grave than enter the filthy debasing union you hold out to me !" In an instant Parley's heavy face was purple. "Tut! tut!" he said, coming near er and puttingut his hands in a mollifying way, "your gom' too far now! What I offer you is the best place in the neighborhood. It's accordm' to scriptures, and the Prophet's indorsed it. I tell you you'd better take up with it on more accounts than one!" "Stand back! don't touch mc!" and the girl's face was white with anger. "There is the gate, sir! I am mistress here; you have invited mc to a life of shame; go!" and with a curse the Bishop turned, and viciously grinding the gravel of the walk under his heels, passed out the gate and down the lane. He seemed to grow shorter in stature, and to widen out with venom like a toad, as he walked along sinking his freshly-polished boots deep in the dust and muttering angrily. His little eyes had a muddy, bloodshot cast, and the lower part of his face seemed to settle upon his thick neck in a way that made it look puffed and swollen. His anger changed him, not as some arc changed as by a white fire, but as if he had taken poison. His blood seemed to run thick and turbid, and the evil awakened in his nature darkened and de formed him. When he reached the Tithing House he locked the door after him. and go ing at once to the cupboard behind the desk, addled further fuel to the evil that en venomed him. Then for a long time ho walked up and down the room with fiery eyes and livid features, revolving such thoughts and laying such plans as are sure ly common only to the under-world. That evening when he went to call upon Orson Beam he still looked roily aud un settled, but his disordered feelings were collected in a purpose, and he was pursu ing it with an eager if rather unsteady aim. When he paused at the door of the cottage the young man, still white and weak from the previous day's awful struggle, was pacing slowly to and fro within. His mother was sewing in the lamplight, and. saying that he should soon return, he walked out with Parley into the moonlight. After they had gone a little way in silence, the bishop said, in a low voice: "What success J"' Beam had his hands lchiud him. and he drew the fingers together in a quivering knot and swallowed as if his throat wore parched; then he said, huskilv: "I failed." "Too bad," said the other: then after a moment: "Weil, we'll get him yet. You wasn't discovered. I "spose!"' The young man's fingers unlocked as if he would throt tle the man by his side, but he lcplaced them again, and. looking straight before him, answered in the same husky tone: "I don't know: 1 think not." "Well," and the Bishop had all but said, theie's another job to be done; the other party must be disposed of. when lie changed his mind, and said: "You may've been seen. Any way I spect you'd best go South, or to the old country, on a mission for a year or two."' The young man's hands fell to his sides. "Yes, I would like to go!" he said, and drew a deep breath of relief. CHAPTER XL THE ENDOWMENTS. The day that brought Bishop Tarlcy tc Trean Hartman with his unfortunate matri monial offer, also brought her sister. Mrs. Suioot. from Salt Lake City. Like most of her people she was tall, and would have been pleasing to the eye had not the un natural burdens of her life robbed her of freshness. Sweet health, which once had rounded her form and plumped her cheeks, had leen wasted in a serfdom as absolute as ever disgraced tho Orient. Within the first fleet year that followed her bridal day, the man who held her heart in his keeping, and who had vowed never to wed another, cast it aside ami profaned their home and destroyed their sacred relation by bringing into it a second wife. He had entered the Priesthood, and had been "counseled' by the Prophet to enter polygamy also, that inhuman license being considered an especial virtue in the Holy Onler. It may be mentioned, too.though not as in any sense extenuating such a crime, that plural marriage was a portion of the royal road to favor in Zion. and that dis obedience t "counsel" was dangerous to ambition and sometimes even life. Near sunset of the day following her ar rival, Mrs. Smoot and Trean, leaving El chard's man beside their sleeping father, went up the path that led from the orchard and sat down in the cool fragrance at the edge of the pines. For a year they had not been together, and their sister-hearts were heavy with experience. What passed be tween them in love aud confidence shall here remain inviolate, save such por tions of the elder sister's revelation as seem pertinent to this chronicle. "Trean," she said, after a silence. "I am going to tell you something which, at least while we are in Utah, is only for yourself. Some of the things I may tell you I once obligated myself never to reveal, but those vows were made under conditions which were compulsory and aided by false teach ings, and for a long time I haven't consid ered them bind ing. For two years my heart hasn't been with this cause. Books read secretly, the help of other than Mormon faces, and my own cruel experience, have liberated my mind. I am no longer a Mor mon, Trean, and when the right time comes I shall take my children and leave it behind me." When she paused the girl was leaning to ward her. glad, half incredulous, her whole lovely form animate with expectancy. "It is true," said Mrs. Smoot, "I have suffered enough!" "Then we will go together," cried Trean, "for 1 disbelieve it, too!" and she put her arms about her sister's neck and kissed her, with tears welling into her shining eyes. "Yes," said the elder woman, with heav ing bosom, "when the right day comes, and I hope it is not far away, we will leave this region of slavery. Oh, Trean, I have suf fered so! For ten yearslife to me has been like a heavy nightmare,'" and she drew her hand across her forehead as if her brain were numb with adull aud weary dream. "I am but a young woman in years,"' she went on, "yet, look at me! hair sprinkled with gray, sunken cheeks, and old in spirit! The brand of polygamy! Love has been trodden out of my life: its strengthening, sustaining sweetness denied me. Forteu years I have lived ia a house of shame, be lieving that for me a life after this hard, joyless journey depended upon it. O, how cruel it is! "I can't tell you, Trean, how glad I am that you have determined never to enter it. I have been troubled for years lest you should believe it your duty, as we arc tauyht. The death that God gives would be better, dear; for polygamy to a pure woman is living death. I am glad you will never know its misery. "Six months after Edgar and I were mar ried he began courting a young lady who lived but a few streets away. Every other evening he would dress himself carefully and go over and visit her as he used to me. No language can picture ray anguish as J sat alone at home through those terrible weeks with hope, aud love, and all that I had expected of the f uture, dying out of my heart. Insanity often seemed very near, and the first fruit of our love, a little life which had begun to feed upon my own, perished in my grief. After my sickness I arose, but to meet with fresh suffering. I could scarce ly stand alone for weakness when the day was set for Edgar to be married to the young lady he had chosen. Words are poor things to express human feelings with, and I can only tell you of my racked and tormented heart; I can not show it to you. "At length the day came, and I went alone to the Endownment House to meet my husband and his bride. If I should live a thousand years I eould not efface that day from my memory. Its moments were not moments to me, but thousands of thorns over which I walked to meet the end of all that then to me seemed sweet. That day my love was murdered. "The ceremony took place in the old En dowment House, a building now abandoned, which stands at the west end of the Temple Block. All the chamber ceremonies of the Priesthood were until recently enacted there. "WE ARE. SIIE SAID. When the great Temple is finished the Sacred Orders, endowments, celestial seal ing, baptism for the dead, and plural mar riages, will be administered in it : until then they are bcinggiven in thcTeinpleat Logan, a town north of Salt Lake. ""I may as well describe the Endowment House rites from the beginning, Trean. for if I do not you will probably never know what they are like. It is the Freemasonry of Mornionism. No marriage is considered binding, you know, if in the beginning or afterwards it is not celebrated there or in a Mormon Temple. "So matter how long two persons may have been wedded, their mar riage is not considered lawful and binding, nor their children legitimate, until they have been remarried and have partaken of these disgusting mysteries. Even then their chil dren, bom before, must be adopted by their parents ortheyare not looked uron as legiti mate! This is according to the highest Mormon authority. It is with this as with the general laws of mankind, to our people they are as nothing if not indorsed by the Priesthood. Trean, it is shameful! "Well, at seven o'clock in the morning I arrived at the door of the building, and found my husband and his new love waiting in the anteroom. My limbs would hardly supiort ine when I saw them, aud such a weight seemed to descend upon me I could only stagger to a chair and sink into it, gazing at them with horror and misery. It seemed to mc I should never rise again. But Brother Lyon, our Mormon poet, came forward and reasoned and talked with me, showing me how it was my duty to go on with the ceremony, and Edgar came and kissed me, saying that he would always cherish me, and that his new wife and I should always be exactly equal in his affection. O. bitter, hollow mockery of a woman's love! So I got up with my burden, with my sick soul and broken heart, and went forward, hoping to win Heaven by a life of sorrow and the outrage of my better self. TO BE CONTINUED.) CONCERNING SALIVA. Importance of the Thorough Mastication and In-a'ivation of Food. The saliva is a mixed fluid, secreted and poured into the mouth from no less than three clusters of glands the parotid, under the ears, the submaxillary, near the ends of the lower jaws, and the sublingual, under the tongue. Still another secretion is poured from numerous separate glands throughout the mucous membrane which lines the cheeks. From one to two quarts of this mixed saliva is secreted daily. In former times it was supposed that the only use of saliva was to moisten the mouth, and to aid in swallowing the food. The most eminent physiologists looked on it as of no more value than pure water. The prevalent modern vie w is that it is one of the digestive fluids, containing a powerful clement which converts starch into sugar. It is believed that in man this digestive clement is con tained mainly in the parotid secretion. This, secretion is not viscid, but clear and limpid.' The submaxillary secretion is viscid, and the sublingual still more so. The fact that sa livaor rather its constituent element, called ptyalin converts starch into sugar, has been proved by careful experiment. It has also been shown that severe digestive dis turbance results from a deficiency of saliva. There is one peculiar quality of saliva to be mentioned, namely, that if a small quan tity of it is introduced into a large quantity of boiled starch, its power will be at leugth arrested by its own product sugar. If, now, water be added, the action of the saliva will begin again, and so on indefinitely, by successive additions of water, until the whole is transformed. While the action of saliva will go ou in the presence of a weak acid, it is wholly arrested by a strong one. Hence its action in the stomach on starch food is arrested within ten or tweutv min utes by the increasing acidity of the gastric juice, and then the gastric juice begins its digestive action on flesh-food. Quite recently a German chemist has pub lished results of experiments which are be lieved to prove that saliva has another im portant function that it assists the stomach to secrete the pepsin, the chief clement in the gastric juice. Not that it simply stimu lates the stomach to the production of its own secretion, but "actually assists in the complex process by which the active constit uents of the gastric juice are formed. This work, at any rate, will emphasize the prac tical importance of thorough mastication and insalivation of food." Youth"1 t'oiiijxiuiuii. Ax expert and experienced official in an insane asylum said a little time since, that these institutions are filled with people who have given up to their feelings, and that no one is quite safe from an insane asylum who allows himself to give up to his feel ings. Mj "Did you hear altout the burglar who was arrested this uiorningf "No. what for!" "For breaking into song." "Is that so!" "Yes. He'd got through two bars when some one hit liuu with a stave." Kingslet advises us to do to-day's duty, fight to-day's temptation and not to weaken aud distract yourself by looking forward to things which you can not see. and could not understand if you saw them. Ar.o'-T the only elas who have no use for Government bonds jail birds. Wlf it WOMAN'S BEST CHOICE, Dr. Holland Taken tu Tlc for His Ad Tire to Tonne 31en. The advice of Dr. Holland for young men to scleet a wife from the female i society above them would be more vain able if tho learned doctor had defined , in just what the wife was to be the supe-j rior. That he had a clear idea in his t head seems manifest. But does he I mean superior in social position? Does! he mean that the coachman shall ! always aspire to the brilliant and ac complished daughter of his employer for a wife? Does he mean that the gardener's son should always aim to win the Countess ou the ground that love makes all things even? Does he mean that, tho Judge shall always pass by Maud Mullcr for a lady of high de gree that the aim of the noble Lord in the selection of a wife shall be the daughter of a King that tiie young mechanic should seek for Ins bride in the home of the coal kings and iron barons and blue-blooded first families? If this is his meaning his advice is worthless, for in common every-day life such mar riages, in nine cases out of ten. prove to be among the most unhappv and usually end in divorce. A man of brains has a better chance for peace and comfort in a marriage with a woman who is a good-natured dunce than a woman of intellect could ever hope for in a union with an ignorant, clod or thick-headed boor. The rea-on is obvious. The man h;is the world of business and society open to him for the pursuit of happiness. He need u-e his home only as a piace to sleep and eat. while the wife wedded to a boor has a life-long sorrow, a dead weight of woe. and a penitentiary for a home. But the gifted women who have mar ried inferior men and have had anv sort of a fair chance for happiness we fail to remember, while Mrs. IL-maris. Miss Landou, Mr-. Norton. Fannie Kemble and others stand out as nwfu1 warning-!. Dr. Holland's line of ad vice, if carefully followed by num. might give comparative happiness to them. Marrying above themselves in wealth, social position, intellect and piety might p.'ivuaneo not be bad as world ioes, but what of the women who thus come down to wed men of low estate in each or all of these tilings? In former day- such stuff and cant might have been a-ecptod a- sense and wisdom, but nowadays no such ig noring of women will be counted as gospel. A marriage to be really happy must be a union of true friends aud real lovers, who have a fair endowment of reason and common sense between them. Two fools with but a single thought will be happier in marriage than an angel married to a Tommy Noddy, no matter what Dr. Holland says. All the talk about "angelic superiority may be set down as cant, or what the English call "rot." I'itts burgh Dfeptlcl;. IN YUCATAN'S CAPITAL. The Street. Church anil Convent of the Citr f Meril:i. The streets of Merida cross each other at right angles, and eight of them lead out of the Plaza Mayor two in the direction of each cardinal point. In every street, at the distance of a few squares from the center, stands an ancient gateway, arched high above tin pavement, and just beyond are the bar rios, or suburbs. Not long ago the now dismantled niche over each great gate wax' held its Christ or saint or Virgin, before which people were alwavs kneel ing and crossing themselves. Formerly all the streets were distinguished, in a manner peculiar to Yucatan, by images of birds or beast set up at the corners, and many still retain the ancient sign. For example, the street upon which we are living is called La Calle del Flam ingo, because of a huge red flamingo painted on the corner house. Another is known as the street of the Elephant, and the representation of il is an ex aggerated animal, with curved trunk and body big as a barrel. There is the street of the Old Woman, and on its corner is the caricature of an aged fe male, with huge spectacles astride her nose. The street of the Two Faces has a double-faced human head, and there are others equallv striking. The reason for this kindergarten sort of nomen clature was because when the streets were named tho great mass of inhab itantswere Indians who could not read, and therefore printed signs would have been of no use to them, but the picture of a bull, a flamingo or an elephant they could not mistake. As in all Spanish-American cities. Merida's distinguishing feature is its churches. The great cathedral, erected in 16t"7, is of quaint aud attractive architecture; and besides there is the church of the Jesuits, the church and convent of San Cristobal, the church and convent of Mejorada. the church of Santa Lucia and the Virgin, the chapel of San Juan Baptista and of Our Lady of Candelaria. the convent dc las Monjas. aud others too numerous too mention. Though now impover ished, and some of them in decay, a number of them still retain enough rich ornaments and vestments to furnish suggestions of former grandeur. Since the expulsion of the Jesuits, nearly a quarter of a century ago. all religious processions have been prohibited on the streets, much church property has changed ownership and even the names of streets and places have been altered to suit the present sentiment. Thus one of the pleasantest squares, formerly known as tiie Plaza de Jesus, is now called Plaza Hidalgo. In the old days this park had an exceedingly quaint and beautiful center, which, .-a-1 to say. has been replaced by an ordin ary statue of the hero whose name it bears. Fannie 1J. Ward, in Trot 1'iuit:: . Buckwheat is recommended for seii iufealed with wire woruu. WAS ACCOMMODATING. A Genuine TennMsro Mountain After-Utc-tier ptixer. A weary traveler stopped :tt :i way side clapboard store, among the Eas5 Teiine?MV mountain, and addrcM-ing- ail old fellow who nodded at him. .-aid: -yiv 'ear sir. I am exceedingly himgrv. having ridden all day without anything to eat. What have yon got?" .".v.v.iif I dunno. Ain't took stoci i .. s.t (Jot some cheese. havnt you?" "Did have some, finest you ever seed, but the nits got a foul uv hit." You surely have crackers?' "Did have 'bout er ha'fer box nr about the finest crackers iu this yore country, but my ole hen got ter layin in the box. an' now she's a-settin on the aigs an' has got sich a good .-tart, that I don't want ter interfere wl.li her." "Very singular.' Don't know that it is. fur I've ke: sto fur er good while, an' I have noticed that, a hen would ruther git in a box an' lav on the crackers than putty nigh anywhar else. Seems like? she ken lay better. 'Pears ter be suthhs erbout the crackers that inspires her." You have some dried herrings. suppose." Yes, some of the finest 1 ever seed, but. you see. the cat has got in the habit of draggin' 'em over the flo' as. night. She chaws a little bit on one an then on another, an has' made some of 'cm look sorter wasted, still, ef you think you ken thd one that's aiov suspicion, w'y, go 'round thar an hu'p yo se f. I don't care to take any chances." Jest ez well not. I reckon, fur the llo' ain't so mighty clean an' I'm putty sartiu tha: she's drug the mo-t r them fish around even ef she hain't, uililili-d at en. much." "Have you got any fresh egtrs?" "Wall. I did have some uv the fresh est I ever ?eed. but I wouldn't like to risk 'em now." "Great goodness, can't you give 12:2 something?" Thar'- a middlin' uv meat over thar. You might cut you oil a fovr slices :i.:d br'ile Vm here on the coals." "I thank you for the suggestion."' The traveler cut oil" several s'ics ,f meat and soon had them broiled. Af:er satL-fying his hunger, he said: I don't know what I should hava done had it not been lor that bat-tit:."' "Comes in mighty handy when a, feller's sorter hauugry." "Yes. and although I have "::;en many a better meal I must say that I never enjoyed one more. How m:;ca do I ovii' you?" "NothiiV a tall." "You are surely very accommoda ting, but vou can not allord such liber ality." "O. yas. in this case I could. f;:ryo-t see the meat wa'n't no ue ter n:. Old Biil Hinsley'sdogdrug it outeii the smokehouse tuther day an' wuz drag gin it 'cross a field, when one uv t.ie boys made him dr-.ip it. The meat v.-. fotch back ter me an ez the dog wi-ni-niad the next day I was sorter f--rd ter eat w'y. Tin sorry you 'pear ter be snatched, stranger. Wall. go' bye. When you air passiu. ilrap i::." Arkamatv Traveler. An Ingenious Time-Piece. A patent for a new chick or chro nometer has just been granted that : attracting considerable attention here, it is the invention ofW. II. and J. IK Gray. tf Maryland, who .aim it can b made to run. if necessary, for years after once wound up. Other special, features of this time-piece are that i: is ab-olutely noiseless when in opera ion. and does away entirely with the pendu lum balance wheel now used in dock and watches. The running gear, in cluding both the striking and ti::- mechanism, consists of but six wheels. and it requires but one spring to j.-.-oprl both of these attachments. By the u-a of a patent self-winding spring con nected to two of the wheels the invent ors utilize the power wasted by friction in other time-pieces, thus enabling tin; clock to run a much greater leugth of time with the same motive powi-r r bv ouce winding it up. The iu::itrs threaten to work a revolution in clock making I13- the introduction of a time piece, which, they say, because of i:s simplicity, can be inanufaeturcd at much Ic-s cost than the many esceil-ns low-priced time-pieces manufactured in this country to-day. ll'a$Ki:iyto.i Lc: tcr. m A Practical Invention. Iu the hundreds of railroad appli ances that are annually invented, few seem to be of really practical si-riica when the te-S is made. There is al ways something lacking to m.ike is just the tiling." A recent invention, in railroad equipment has apparcntiv all the requi-itesof a good thing and seems to be not only scientifically cor rect, but simple and easy to adju-'t. I;, is in thff form of a platform projection, for passenger coaches, suitable for either a vestibule or ordinarv train. Tiie projection does away with tlus vertical aud lateral motion of the coach, which the Miller buffer onlv nanl-illw succeeded iu doing, and is a protection against accidents incident to the jump ing off the track of the trucks. Should, the truck and wheels become derailed, as iu the recent Florida accident, the projection ou the adjacent car would hold the derailed car in place, and tho truck would become suspended. 1:0c touching the ties. There would be n jolting or bumping along, ami a possi ble smashup of the coach. As a pre ventive of accidents by derailment it is claimed to lit tho needs exactly. CAS-G'-t'jo Times. i 2V 'fv i y .- . .-. ..., j