THE MCOOK TETBUKE , SUPPLEMENT. A'cCO HC , SEE OTHERWISE AND PERSONAL. Miss MAMIE DICKENS , tUe eldest daughter of the novelist , has written , a brief biography of her father. TCNKIB CLAFKIN'S husband , the Visconde do Monsorrala , is a rich dealer in India shawls in London. Gov-Etucr FOUAKEII is reported as sayin < r "that the American public must have cither a hero or a victim. " VOGIthe famous German tenor , hsis a farm in the Bavarian Alps on which somo far-famed clioeso is made. autograph seekers are never disappointed. His pen is alwaj's ready to satisfy the applicant. Ex-PKl-SIDKNT GONZALKS , of McX- ico , has hud articles of impeachment presen'ted njraiust him in the Mexican congress. THE Countess de lloolifoucjiuld and the Countess de Botluino appear on tho real estate assesuieut rolls in New Orleans for § 100,000. Mil. BLAINE is reported to have once said , in reply to a remark : "In poli tics there is no gratitude. Politics means ambition and success. " Ex-Gov. CUKTIN , of Peiinsylvania , has as mementoes of his residence at tho Ilussiau court line half-length , life- size paintings of Alexander II. .and GortsclmkoiT , presented to him by the originals. FKHDINAND WAHU , according to tho Boston Transcript , received his finan cial education at church fairs where returns of two or three thousand per cent on the original investments are uot thought at all remarkable. ELIZABETH , Empress of Austria-Hun gary , is building a marvellous mansion in the forest of Schoenbrunn. a mero hunting ; lodge. 011 which millions of money will bo lavished , but , then , it will cose Elizabeth notbmga,3 the peo ple will paj' for it. IP a man wants a handle to his name he should go ta Ge riuauv and discover a iie-.v microbe. Before he came across the cholera microbe Dr. Koch was simply Dr : Koch ; and now ho is Horr Gehcimer "Medicinal-ruth Prof. Dr. Robert Kouh , with several counties to hear from. Sn : JAMES PA GET has traced the ca reer of 1,000 English medical students to discover that only twenty-three achieve supreme success in their pro fession , sixty-six considerable success , 507 make a living , fifty-six fail utterly and so ou. But isn't this about the record in any pursuit or profession ? MINISTER JAUVIS writes fromEio de Janeiro that he and his wife composo a class taking lessons in Portuguese , and that he is at Ihe foot of his class , as liis wife can talk better , faster and more at a time lhau he can ; but this is scarcely sufficiently unusual iu the experience of most married men to call for especial mention. CAPT. Bunro.V. the great English traveler , speaks all modern tpngues , is a superb and delicious conversa tionalist , is cheery , frank and simple. In personal appearance he is not unlike John A. Logan , and his long residence iu foreign climes , under hotter suns than ours , has lined his face and browned it to a very parchment-like but agreeable color. THE last thing at which Gea. Mc- Clelliin worked on the day of his deatli was an account of the battle of Antietam. Ho was preparing a series of articles for The Century Alagazine , and the first of them was to be one on Antietam. It was not finished. From between the leaves of a book lying on the general's table when ho died pro- . truded numerous pages of manuscript. The book was Jiu authority the gener al had been consulting , and the man uscript was the half-written article on lus most famous battle. INDIAN' COMMISSIONER WELSH , of Philadelphia , was ouco negotiating a treaty with the chiefs of a certain tribe , and wished to impress on. them tho fact of his confidential relations with tho president : " 1 have , ' " said he , as the interpreter rendered his re marks , sentence by sentence , into the Indian tongue , " 1 have the ear of the Great Father. " "Stop ! " exclaimed one of the chiefs , impressively ; "I do not believe that" "Tell him" to tho interpreter "if he 1ms the Great Father's ear to produce it. Show it to. us and we will believe him ! " AN American lady in Paris , de claring in company that she never would return home , and finding her self opposed , turned to the late Wil liam Henry Huntingtou , who was present , and asked him if he thought ho would ever wish to come back to " " heafter this country , "Well , said , YOU have lived here three or fcur years there will come to you a great rush oi remembrance of old friendsand places , ami a great desire to see them once more. And then then you will bo so glad to think that you are not to sail next week ! " _ „ O'S citi-in > . Trar > Iitfd ] iyKo\v in ItuIixio-.TIrilosophic.il .Iniinml. ' ' My sou ! tlriiikN in il future life. l.lko Mxiuo mroiHnri'ht tliticuotiLlo\vn \YhiM > , Hhi > obj < ! " ? % the nMiiiufti strife , Ami fkyuurii tpreul ii IM.s my ucrc-tl Sicii'l. And biiitcouhru-lh'-i'.iii"siii.vroo0 | ! , Tho Iiinihs of Ci. ! l thiirsult lifihi h-hud. Anrl distant void : ; : ui : iiifrstood. Sny not my M U ! is but a clod. liwttil.'int nl my burtyNiiowors : She jilunios her wing. * lo ily to Goil , Ami iill iiutrcbtoursicli/liis boners. Tho winter's snows arc on my But sumniiTBUiis more brightly glow , And violots , lilacs , roses now Seem bxvei'tcr titan longyears ago. As'I approach my earthly end Much plainer cun I hear afar Immortal symphonies which hlcnd To welcome me from star to star. Though marvelous it still is'pla A fairy tale , yet history ; Losing earth a heaven wo gain ; With death , win immortality , For fiity years my uillini ; pen , Jn history , dr.ima and romance , With satire , sonnets , or with men JIas llow'ctl or danced its busy dance. All themes I tried ; and yet I know Ten thousand time * as much unsaid llenmiiis in me ! It must be so , Though ages should not find me dead. When unto dust we return once more , We cansay , "Oneday's work is done ; " We may not bay , "Our work is o'er , " For life will scarcely .have begun. The tomb is no Win endless night ; It is 11 thoroughfare a way That closes in a soft twilight - And opens in eternal day. Moved by the love of God. I find That I must work as did Voltaire , Who loved the world and all mankind ; But God is love ! Letmono despair ! Our work rtn earth is just begun ; Oiir monuments will' later rise To bathetheirsunimits in the sun And shine in bright eternal skies. TEE COWABD. A Study Jn Psychology. In society they used to speak of him as ' 'that , handsome Signolles. " His title was Viscount Gontran-Joseph de Signolles. Orphan and master of a large for tune , he made a conspicuous figijre in tli3 fashionable world. He had a fine appearance , a good deportment , a fa cility ot speech sufficient to gain him the reputation of a wit , some natural grace , an air of noble reserve , a brave mustache , and soft eyes lust what women admire. lie was in demand at receptions , a desirable partner in a waltz , and he inspired men with that sort of confi dence enjoyed by men who possess en ergetic faces. lie lived happily , quiet ly , in the most absolute good moral standing. It was known that he was i a good swordsman and a better shot. "When we have to light , " he would say , "I choose pistols. With that weapon I am sure of killing my man. " Now , one evening , after having ac companied to the opera two young married ladies of his acquaintance , with their husbands , he invited the whole party after the performance to take somesupper at Tortoni's. They had been there only a few moments , j when he observed that a gentleman fceated at a neighboring table was staring steadily at one of the ladies in the party. She seemed to feel an- * noyed. embarrassed , and kept her head down. At last she said to her husband : "There is .a man over there who keeps staring at me. I don't know bim at all do yon ? " "The husband , who had not noticed anything , turned to look , and replied : Idon't know him at all. " j The young woman continued , half- Bmiling , half-angry : ' It's very annoying. The man spoils my supper. " s Thchusband shrugged his shoulders : 1 1t "Nonsense ; pay no attention to him. t If we had to worry ourselves about all the insolent people we meet , there would never be an end of it. " But the viscount had suddenly ris en , lie could not permit that individ ual to destroy the enjoyment which he had offered. The insult was to : him inasmuch as it was through his invitation the party had entered the cafe : therefore the affair concerned no one but him. lie approached the man and said to him : , "Sir , you are staring at those ladies in a manner which I can not tolerate. Will you be good enough to cease this staring at once ? ' ' The other replied : "You keep your mouth shut will you ? " The viscount setting his teeth , ex claimed : "Take care sirj You may compel me to violate politeness. " The stranger uttered only OUP word one filthy word , that resounded from one end of the cafe to the other , and made every one in the house start as if they had been set in motion by a spring. All who had their backs turned looked around ; all the rest raised their heads ; three waiters simul taneously whirled upon their heels like so many tops ; the two women be hind the counter started and twisted themselves completely about , as if they were t\yo puppets pulled by one string. There was a great silence. Then a [ sudden dry sound clacked in the air. The viscount had slapped his adver sary's face. Every body jumped up to interfere. Cards were exchanged. * * - * t tnat er the viscount returned home night he bezan to walk up and down his room with sreat. cmick strides. lie was too much excited to th nk about anything. One solitary idea kept hoveringin his mind a duel although the idea itself had not yet awakened any special emotion. He had done just what he ou ht to have done ; he had behaved as he ought to have behaved. He would be spoken of , would be approved , would be congratulated. He repeated aloud : "What a vulgar brute the fello'wis ! " " Then he sat" down and began to think. He would have to procure seconds in the morning. Whom would he choose ? He thought of all themost celebrated and most dignified men of his acquaintance. Finally he selected the Marquis dp la Tour Noire and Colonel Bourdin ; a great nobleman and a great soldier that would be just the thing. Their names would have weight in the newspapers. He suddenly discovered that ho was thirsty , and he drank three glasses of water , one after another ; then he be gan to walk up and down again. He felt full of energy. Ey showinghimself to be plucky , ready for anything and everything , and by insisting upon rigorous and dange'rous conditions by demanding a serious , very serious , terrible duel his adversary would be probably scared and make apologies. He took up the man's card , Avhich he had drawn out of his pocket as he entered and had flung on the table , and he read it over again , as he had already read it in the cafe with a glance , and as he had also read it in the carriage by every passing gaslight. "GEORGU LAJIIL , 51 Hue "Moncey. " Nothing more. He examined the letters of this name , which seemed to him myster ious full of vague significance. George Lamil. Who was the fellow ? What did he do ? What did he stare at the women in that way for ? Wasn't it disgusting to think that a stranger , a man nobody knew anything about , could worry a man's life in that way , just by taking a notion to fix his eyes insolently upon a woman's face ? And the viscount repeated again aloucl : "What a vulgar brute thefellow is ! " Then he remained standing motion less , thinking , keeping his eyes fixed upon the card. A rage arose within him against that bit of paper a fury of hate mingled with a strange sense oi uneasiness. It was a stupid mess , all this affair ! lie seized an open pen knife lying beside him and jabbed it into the middle of the printed name , as if he were stabbing somebody. So he would have to fight ! Should he choose swords or pistols ? for he considered himself to be the part } ' in sulted. With swords ho might run less risk ; but by choosing pistols , he miaht be able to frighten his adversary into withdrawing the challenge. It is very seldom that a duel with swords is fatal , as a reciprocal prudence Generally pre vents the combatants from fencing at such dose quarters that the blades can inflict a very deep thrust. With pistols his life would be seriously en- d.ingered ; but again , he might be able to extricate himself from the difficulty with honpr , and yet without an ac tual meeting. He. exclaimed : "I must be firm. He will show the white feather. " The sound of liis own voice made him start , and he looked around him. lie felt very nervous. He drank an other glass of water , and began to un dress in order to go to bed. As soon .as he got into bed , he blew out the light and closed his eyes. He thought : "I have the whole day to-morrow to arrange my affairs. The best thing I can do is to take a " good sleep to "settle my nerves. " He felt very warm between the sheets ; and still he could not sleep , lie turned over and over remained ; for five minutes on his back then for five minutes on his right side then he rolled over on his left side. He felt thirsty a ain. He got Up for a drink. Then a new anxiety came upon him. "Is it possible that I could be ] afraid ? " - : Why did his heart start to beating so wildly at the least little familiar noise in his room ? When * tho clock was about to strike , the click or the little spring rising up caused him a riolent start , and lie felt such a weight it his heart for several moments that IIP had to open his mouth in order to I Ineathe. He begrfii to reason with liimself on the possibility of the thing : "Am I really afraid ? " No. certainly ; how could he be afraid since he was firmly resolved to carry out the affair to tho very Cud since lie was fully decided to fight and not to tremble ? But he felt so profoundly ilisturbed inwardly that he kept ask ing himself : "Can become afraid in a man spite ' of himself ? " And this doubt , this suspicion , this terror grew upon him. Suppose that a orce more powerful than his will , an irresistable and mastering foroeshould overpower him , what would happen ? 3f course he would appear on the ground , as he had made up liis mind to do so. Yes , but what would hap pen ? What if he should be afraid ? SVhat if he should faint ? And he be- an to think of his position , his repu tation , of his name. And a strange desire suddenly seized liim to get up and look at himself in the glass. He relit his candle. When lie saw his visage reflected in the mir ror , he could hardly recognize himself ; and it seemed as if he had never seen liimself before. His eyes looked enor mous , and he was pale certainly he ivas pale , very pale indeed. He stood there in front of the mirror. He put out his tongue , as if to certify the state of his health ; and all at once this thought shot through him like a bul let : "The day after to-morrow , at this very hour"perhaps I shall be dead ! " And his heart began to thump again , furiously. 'The day after to-morrow I shall , perhaps be dead , This person here before me this T that I see in that will he no more. What ! Here am ; I look at myself ; I feel that I liv.e ; and in twenty-four hours I will be lying in that bed , dead ; with eyes closed cold , inanimate , gone from the world of the living. " He turned to look at the bed ; and distinctly saw himself lying there , un der the very same covers he had just left. His face had the hollowness of dead face ; his hands had the limpness of hands that will never move again. Then he became hfraid of his bed , and' in order to escape it , he went into his smoking room. He took a cigar , me chanically lighted it , and began to walk up ami down again. He felt cold. He started to ring the bell , in order to wake up the valet-de-chambre ; but stopped suddenly , even while his hand was raised to grasp the bell- cord. "The servant swould see that I am afraid. " And he did not ring. He made the fire himself. His hands shook a little , with nervous tremblings whenever they touched a 113thing. His mind wandered ; his thoughts began to lly in confusion , brusque , painful. A sort of drunkenness came over him , as if ho had been swallowing liquor. And over and over again he kept ask ing himself : "What will become of me ? " His whole body shuddered with spasmodic quiverings , lie rose , and , going to the window drew aside the cur tains. The dawn was breaking a summer diwn. The rosy sky made rosy the city , the roofs and the walls. A great glow of soft light enveloped the awak ening city , like the caress of the sun- vise ; and with its coming there passed into the viscount's .heart a ray of hope merry , quick , brutal ! What a fool he was to allow himself to be worried by fear , before anything at ail had been decided ; before his .seconds had seen those of George Lamil ; before he so much as knew whether he would have to fight at all. He made his toi let , dressed , and walked out with a firm step. * # * * # * As he went along , lie kept repeating to himself : "I must be energetic very energetic. I must prove that I am not a bit afraid. " His witnesses , the marquis and the colonel , put themselves iit his dis posal ; and , after a 'hearty shake- hands , they began to discuss Ihe con ditions. , . The colonel asked : "Do you insist upon a serious duel ? ' The viscountreplied : "Very serious. ' ' Tho marquis asked : "You wish pistols ? " "Yes. " "Well , we leave von fres to regulate the rest. " The viscount articulated in a dry , ] erky voice : "Twenty paces to fire at the word t o fire on the rise , instead of on tlu. fall ; balls to be exchangad until one or the other be seriously wounded. " The colonel exclaimed , in a tone oi satisfaction : "These are excellent conditions. You shoot well , and all the chances are in your favor. " And they departed on their errand. The viscount returned home to wait for their return. His excitementtem- porarily appealed , now began to in crease every minute. He felt all along his legs and arms , in his chest , a sort of sinking a continual quivering ; he found himself utterly unable ro remain quiet in one place , whether sitting or .standing. His mouth felt dry , as if wholly devoid of saliva.and he clacked his tongue loudly every once in a while as if trying to unfasten it from his palate. He wished to breakfast , but could not eat. Then the idea came to him to take a drink , in order to give him self courage : and he ordered a decanter of brand } ' brought in. from which he helped himself to six small glasses.pne after another. A heat , as of a burn , passed through him followed almost immediately by a sort of mental numbness. lie thought : "Here's the remedy. Now 1 am all right. " But at the end of an hour he had emptied the decanter , and his excite ment became intolerable. He felt a mad wish to roll upon the iloor , to scream , to bite , livening came. A sudden pull at the door-bell gave him such a sense of suffocation that he could not find strength to rise to re ceive his seconds. "He did not even dare speak to them not even to say "Good evening , " or anything else through fear tliat they might discover everything from the alteration of his voice. The colonel-said : "Everything has been arranged ac cording to the conditions you stipu lated. Your adversary at fiist claim ed , as the insulted party , his right to the choice of weapons ; but he almost immediately after waived his claim , and accepted everythingas 3-011 wished 't. His seconds are twomilitary men. " The viscount said : "Thanks. " The marquis exclaimed : "You must excuse us for 01113 * com- ingand going out againi but we have still a thousand things to do. We must secure a good surgeon , since tho duel is to end only on tho serious wounding of one of the principals and you know bullets are not things to joke about. Then we must settle up on a good place near some house or other , to wlnVh we can carry the wounded party if necessary and all that sort of thing. In short , we've got two or three hours' work before us. " The viscount * the second time artic ulated : "Thanks. " The colonel asked : "Well , you feel all right ? you are cool ? " "Yes ; very cool , thank 3-011. " The two men retired. * * - , * * When he found himself all alone again he felt as if ho were going mad. When his servant had lighted tho lamps he sat down , at the table to write some let tors. After haing trac ed , at the head of a blank sheet of note-paper , the words : "This is my last will and testament"he rose to his feetavith a sudden start and walked away , feeling incapable of putting two ideas together , of making any resolu tion , or decidingabout anything what soever. So , he was going to fight. There was no getting out of it. now. what was the matter with him ? He wished to fight ; ho had the firm intention o fightint ; ; he had resolved upon it ; ant ' nevertheless he clearly felt , in spite o his utmost determination , in spite o the utmost tension of his will , that ho could not possibly find the force neces sary to enable him to go as far as the place of meeting. lie tried to picture the scene in his mind his own atti tude and the deportment oi his ad versary. From time to time his teeth chatter ed with a little dry noise. He wmited to read , and took upChateauvillard's "Code du Duel. " Then he asked him self : "Does my adversary frequent the shooting-galleries ? Is he known ? Is his name published anywhere ? LIow can I found out ? " Ho remembered Baron de Yaux's book on the expert pistol shots ; and he went through it , from one end to the other. George Lamil's name was not mentioned in it. But still , if that man was not agood shot , he would never have been so prompt to accept a duel under such fatal conditions , with so dangerous aweapon. . As he walked up and down , he stop- lied before a little round table , on which lay one of Gastmne Kenette's well-known . lie took - pistol-cases. out one of the pistols , placed himself in the position of a man about to lire , and raised his arm. But he trembled from head.to foot , so that the barrel of the pistol quivered and pointed in all di rections. Then he said t o himself : "It is simply impossible. I shall novelbe able to light as I am now. " He looked down the muzzle of the barrel , into the little , deep , black hole which spits out death. He thought of dishonor , of whisperings in the sa lons , of laughter at the clubs , of the contempt that women can show , of allusions in the newspapers , of the open insults he would receive. Still he stared at the weapon , and , pulling back the hammer , he suddenly observed a cap shining under it ; like a tiny red llame. The pistol had re mained loaded by some chance , some forgetfulness. And the disco very filled him with a confused and inexplicable joy.If If he could not maintain before the other man the cool and dignified de portment which behooved him , then he would be ruined forever. He would be stained , branded with the stamp of infamy driven out of society ! And that calm , fearless attitude ne uonld not be able to have ; he knew it ; he felt certain of it. Yet he was brave enough , since he wanted to light ! He was bravo , since But the half-shaped thought never completed itself in his mind ; for suddenly openinc his mouth asvidi ; as he could , he tin list the muzzle of the pistol in. back to his very throat , and pulled the trigger. When the valet dechambre startled by the report of the pistol ran in , he found his master lying on his back dead. A gush of blood had spattered over thevhitu paper on the table ami formed a great red blot immediately undeineath the words : "This is my last will and testa ment. ' ' Times-Democratic transla tion from the Fiench of Guy de iJau- passant. An Afterpiece in a Circus. A New York special to the Philadel phia Press , says : Amon-r the animals on exhibition at the new Grand street museum in Brooklyn are a large ele phant , which formerly belonged to Coup's circus , and a magnificent lion , which , for some time , has occupied a cusp adjoining that of the elephant. The fact that the lion had already killed two keepers within as many years had caused the proprietors to construct a cage which they consider ed much stronger than any of theoth- ers. The elephant never seemed to like his black-maned companion and often evinced his dislike byputting his trunk through the iron bars of the cage in which the lion was routined anfl literally fulfilling Representative Itichclicu Jiobinson's advice by twist ing the hitter's tail. The elephant repeated this perform ance several times , and the man agers feared that he meant mi chief. When the exhibition was closed the elephant was removed to another part of the building , where the lion could not be scon. Keeper Goons * Goodwin remained in the building after the gas had been t-hut off , quietly smoking a ciiiar. Suddenly hiwas startled by ; the clanking of chains on the lower iloor , and. hurrying d-own stairs and ' glancing in the direction of the ele phant , he found that he had snapped the chain A\hich held him , and was carrying on just as he pleased. He was trying to batter down the bars of the lion's cage. In the dim light Keeper Goodwin could see the crouching foini and glaring eyes of tho lion no he sprang forward against the bars. Jlehnd sei/od the elephant's trunk and a fierce lijih1ensued. The li on suddenly released his hold and theel- ephant quickly grasped his opponent's : leg with his trunk in a vain attempt to pull him out of the cane. In the ; meantime all the animals were aroused by the iU'ht and their roars wereplain- , ly heard a block away. Seizing his sharp steel hook , Good win sprang at the elephant and , strik ; ing him again and again , succeeded in ) forcing him back from the cage ; Anj j other keeper rus-hod at the case to j beat back the lion. The great beast (1 ou.the outside was not. however , to be quickly subdued. \ \ ith a power ful lunge he again dashed his massive j -l weight against the bars. Keeper Good win was thro'.Mi down and badly ) but. se/ing : his prong again . 10 forced the hook into the elephant's i 'aw. which bO enraged the animal that t at once t rrued upon the keeper , > who with difficulty escaped beyond ) ; he reach of the huge tu ks.hich : were forced into tho wall behind him. The elephant was finally secured by rope > and chains , but notbefoie both hi tusks had been broken and his trunk and head severely lacerated. The li'n's leg is thought to be broken , and he lay bleeding and unablo to stir. Goodwin is confined at home from the bruises which cover every part af his body A wall-to-do . - - > rf- best counties of Middle Teuulssee | , , , owned ? a large number o ? slaveandjg. . among them a negro about his \\TBi ; age. 'The latter was ono of the "olW familynegroes" brought from Vh iniav His name was Sam.audhcwasafaith- * * ful , docile creature , a great favorite of. ' his faster , and rather a privileged- ; diameter on the plantation. * ir - Avas very industrious , and 'ex- - emplary in his behavior exeeptingdur.f ing that period dating from the time Avlieii roastingears began to ripen , and the first appearance of frost. At this peripd Sam was always seized with an uncontrollable desire to "run away. " It recurred as regularly asatir of "hay fever , " was as incurable , and , like that disorder , could only be treated by change of air and locality. Sam de clared that he "jess couldn't help .his- sef , " and it became a settied and un derstood arrangement that he should go , and that the neighborhood should condone his raids on corn-fields and potato-patches. After many such es- " capades , his old master asked him on cue occasion , when the matter was in id or discussion : "Sam , do you really enjoy running aAvay ? " "Deed , Marse John. " said Sam , "I does. Hit's de moas' fun in de Avurl' . Coon-huntin' aint nowharstohit. " - "Well , then , " said Marse John , "just let me know the next time you take a notion to start , and I'll go Avith you , and try it awhile myself. " Sure enoughin dueseasonSam came . up , saying , "Old Marse , de time's mighty nigh when I'bleegedto lite out. Ef you gwine Avid me. you better begit- tin' reddy , for when de times 'cornea I got to go quick. " Old Marse kept a bright lookout , and when Sam started he Avas on hand. They had a delightful time. They fished occasionally caught possums1 , picked blackberries for recreationand haunted the greenest and shadiest nooks of the forest , all of which Sam knew well. "Old Marse" had never en joyed a summer so much. In fact he was so much pleased that regularly afterward he accompanied Sam Avhen he Avcnt into annual retreat. At length Sam died. The old Master griovedfor him sincerely , lie Avas sad also over the reflection that his summer pas time would in future be denied him. But. to the amazement of all his friends , and not less his own , . AA'hen roasting-ear time cameagain.the fitoE rest Ie.-Mie.-s seized him as strong as ever , and he ran away by himself. Southern Bivouac. An lutcrstiii ? Point in Timber Growth. Mr. W. W. Gellett , a Connecticut namractnrer who uses largo quanti ties of oak and hickory annually in his business , has contributed to the October Outing some very interesting statements regarding the cultivation of timber. With regard to the amount of growth to allow before cutting timber , he says : There is a proper time to cut a tree as there is a proper time to harvest a crop of corn or grass. If any one , in cutting an aged tree , will obst-rvc the concentric rings or grains , ho will usu ally notice that there has been a peri od of rapid growth succeeded by a pe riod ofery slow growth ; and , "in the case of a very aged tree , it often hap pens that , for the last score or more of years , growth has come almost to a standstill , the grains being so fine as- to sliow that the tree had but little more than held its own for a long time. Xow , for all purposes requiring strength , this fine-grained timber on the exterior of the tree the growth of twenty or thirty years , perhaps is about as nearly worthless as anything could well be. And when wo consider that the interior of the tree , which > twenty or thirty years ago was vigor . ous and strong , has been waiting all this time to be put to use , until its vigor- is exhausted and its strength decayed , ir will be seen that it would have been better to cut the tree and obtained Ihe benefit of its good qualities years igo. Much good ink has been wasted in deploring the destruction of our -primeval forests ; " but there are acres upon acres of trees in Conneticut that iiavebcen allowed to stand until their usefulness , has been greatly impaired , sometimes destroyed , because we have iot given sufficient attention to the proper time to harvest the crop after . iu have got it raised. Our hope of a T 'nture timber supply does not lie in rho direction of preserving the old , ivhich cannot be preserved beyond certain limits , but in producing the fiew. ami Ills Soldiers. IVoi center ( Mass * . ) Spy. That he was'a gallant , high-minded , ourteous gentleman all who knew lim personally Avill testify. He had he afl'tction of his soldiers , and irouscd their enthusiasm as no other ommander of the army of the Poto- nacever did. One reason for this vas his uniform courtesy and the ll jracious manner of its manifestation. \n example of this is related by an ye witness. Takinglcave of thearmy f the Potomac in November , 1SG2 , General McClellan with his staff rode apidly along the front of the armv If Irawn up in line to greet their com- nander for the last time. As the Brilliant group swept bytheregiment- il colors of the 15th Massachusetts anght his attention. They had been ut in many a shower of lead and had .uffered especially at Antietam. Oi-Iv few rags iluttered from the shattered tail , which was patched with a band f tin rudely nailed on where it had een broken by a shot. No other olor. in that part of the line at least vaaso badly torn. Hiding rapidlv' kfcClellan had passed the regiment be- tfre he could check his horse , but then le wheeled , returned , and halting Diluted the color , pathetic symbol of alor and sacrifice , by slowly raisin" us cap. The thunder of cheers that icknowledged this act of gracious ourtcsy revealed one of the secrets of ilcClellan's popularity with his army