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1
THE JOURNAL.
WEDNESDAY, JAN. 16, 1881.
Zsttrei ti tti Pta2ee, Cetotaa, Vtl.. at tiesai
eUssautttr. JDS GIRL.
Her eyes are lovely. I -won't tell
What hue their loveliness may show;
Her braided hair becomes her well.
In color like but ah, no ! no !
That is my secret red or brown,
It Is the prettiest hair in town !
Bhe walks with such a dainty charm.
But whether she be short or tall.
Of rounded limb or sylph-like form.
Her figure suits me that is all !
Nor do I choose the world to know
It silk her dress, or calico.
My precious girl is worth her weight.
Not in rough gold, but diamonds nno,
And whether that be small or great
I leave the reader to divine.
Ask me to guage her solid worth
Bhe would outweigh the whole round earth I
To rhyme her praise Is such delight
That I must keep it to myself.
Lest one should better verses write
And lay me gently on the shelf.
I am not Jealous, but you see.
This charming girl belongs to me.
Jf. S. Bridge, in Continent.
A SOCIETY ITE3T.
"Did vc see the Cyclops Courier,
Miss Abigail?" queried old Simon
Sbarpe, in quite a fever of excite
ment. He was leaning over the little green-
Jainted gate, coatless and blue-snirted.
ust beyond Miss Abigail Byrnes paused
in her task of tying up heavy-headed
August roses a tall, angular figure,
clad in a brown-and-white striped print
and big yellow sun-bonnet. Very bony,
scant of smiles and hard of feature was
Miss Abigail, but gentle and generous
as a child's was the heart under the
ugly calico gown.
"No," she replied, "I haven't seen it
what's the news?"
He responded with a counter question.
"You remember Roger Kearney?"
"To be sure. He went to the city to
start a big store. What of him?"
"They be a-saying down at the Cor
ner that just now when he had got his
big store built, stocked and flourishin',
he has gone and been burned clean out,
even yard of silk-stuff and ivory but
tons?' He paused, breathless.
Miss Abigail clasped her thin hands
and elevated her pale brows in dismay
not at the peculiar English and curi
ous rhetoric of her narrator, but at the
startling information imparted. "Land's
sakea!" she ejaculated. "You don't
nay so!"
Simon nodded vigorously.
"Yes," he affirmed, with the apparent
savage relish observable in even phleg
matic natures when the misfortunes of
another is the subject of discussion,
'lost everything, they say! Hadn't no
insurance,' neither. H'ain't saved a
spool o' thread. Not as much as a hook,
eye nor darnin' needle left!"
Miss Abigail promptly tied the strings
of her sunbonnet afresh and let down
her gown, which had been pinned care
fully up. "I'll just run over to Mrs.
Brans'," she declared, "and borrow the
Courier. She takes it. News don't
taste good at second-hand, anyhow!'
And she went.
Leaning out of a picturesque, vine
wreathed window up at the rambling,
white country house of which Miss Abi-
ail was mistress looked pretty Doro
ly Stratton.
Where on earth is Aunt going?" she
asked herself bewilderedly as she caught
sight of the tall, lh'ing figure. "Leav
ing the roses only half tied up, too!"
Bot just then a stray sunbeam lit the
stone on Dorothy's linger to dazzling
flame. She forgot all about Miss Abi-
Sil's hurried exit as she turned it now
is way, now that, and ended by kiss
ing it in a burst of rapture.
"You dear, dear little ring!" she said.
You see it was quite novel to her yet
her engagement and her ring.
This was only August. In May she
had not dreamed of the existence of
such a person as Mr. Paul Carlisle.
He had come down to Blue-Bcrry
Hill in June, a popular and successful
ycung sculptor, seeking rest, isolation
and country quiet. And the very first
thing he did he who could have chosen
last season from half a dozen brilliant
society belles was to fall head over
ears in love with Dorothy Stratton.
She captured his erratic artistic fan
cy, and she plca.scd his instinctive sense
of refinement.
She was so lithe and graceful, with
such round marvelous urves of throat
and arms. And she held her small,
sloe-black head with such charming
dignity. And what could be more win
some than the face with its clear, color
less skin and liquid gray ej-es, and
curved black brows and grave, sweet,
crimson mouth?
Just how June and July passed
neither of these happy, foolish youn""
people could have lucidly explained.
And the precise manner in Avhich he
had spoken at last, the shy confusion of
her answer, the parting with regrets,
hopes, love unutterable, was still a niero
mystic, entrancing, delicious remem
brance. But there was the ring, a glittering,
tangible reality. So what wonder Doro
thy turned it up and down, and under
and over and kissed it in sheer jov of
heart?
Over at Mrs. Evans' Miss Abigail sat,
her sunbonnet untied and pushed back
on her head, her spectacles perched on
her accommodatingly rigid nose, deep
in the perusal of the" Cyclops Courier.
"Too bad, eh?" queried Mrs. Evans,
briskly "topping" gooseberries.
"Yes," assented Miss Abigail, "after
all his vcars of saving eh! what's
this?" "
"What's what?" asked Mrs. Evans,
startled at her guest's tone. She was
taring straight at the sheet she held,
her eyes very troubled and her mouth
grimly set.
"Dear, dear. Miss Byrnes!" exclaimed
Mrs. Evans, in feeble'alarm, "rfo tell!"
But her visitor made no replv, only
roused herself with an effort, tied her
sunbonnet f-trings with an energetic
jerk, and marched straight out of the
house, the Cyclops Courier in her hand.
Mrs. Evans stared after her a moment.
Then she tapped her forehead signifi
cantly, muttered a single word, and
went complacently on topping her
gooseberries. Dorothy, still sitting
dreamily by the vine-wreathed window!
twisting tlie bright circlet round and
round on her slim brown finger, started
as Miss Abigail banged the garden gate
behind her and hurried up the path.
A heavy tre- d on the stairs, the door
was flung wide, and she talked into
the dainty chamber, all pink silesia and
snowy dotted muslin, like a herald of
war.
Dorothy!" she said, in quite an awful
Toice.
"Aunt!" cried Dorothy, risino-.
"Look there! Bead."
She held up the paper and waved
her arm with a tragie gesture of com
mand. Dorothy glanced at the paragraph
pointed out and read as bidden.
And this is what she read: "The
aaocil exodus has begun. Among the
names of the pleasure seekers leaving
this evening on the steamship Asia to
summer on the Continent we notice
those of Paul A Carlisle and wife."
Dorothy looked at the paper blankly.
Thca she began and read it over
again.
"Well?" questioned Miss Abigail
sternly.
The girl stood up, white to the very
Jips and trembling a little, -
"There's some mistake,." she said.
Miss Abigail gave a distrustful snort.
"If there is, she asserted, "we'vt
Bade it. He's a scanjp my dear!"
And then waving emphatic, "A double
ttittilled scamp.
"You inusn't speak so," said Dorothy,
striving to swallow the jrrcat choking
lump in her throat. "It is some other
Mr. Carlisle."
"Yes," mocked Miss Abigail scorn
fully, "very likely! Do you suppose
there are two men with exactly the same
same down to the middle initial
whose departure would be considered
worth chronicling in the Cyclops Cou
rierHo you?"
But Dorothy sprang to the door, and
ran down stairs, and out into the
shadowy old orchard like a thing pur
sued. And there she filing herself down on
the smooth, short grass, dry-eyed, white
lipped, half mad with searing, incred
ulous pain.
And up in the room she had just left,
hard-featured Miss Abigail sat down in
Dorothy's own particular, beribboned
rocker," and Angina her blue apron
over her face cried like a baby for very
sympathy. The day wore on", the gay.
sweet, warm August day. And still
Dorothy lay crushed, and faint, and
heart-sick under the big amle tree.
The Courier was dated the 15th
this was the 17th. City papers were
mellow when they reached the little
village. He had been gone two days
but then he hadn't gone! There "was
some mistake, she kept telling hersell
over and over, though in her innermost
soul she did'nt bel eve there was.
Within Miss Abigail went around the
house with a very stern countenance
and very red eyes.
"I'll make s:me strawberry puff-balls
for supper," she decided, gravely.
"She was always powerful fond of straw
berry puff-balls, and maybe they'll com
fort her some!" But then Miss Ab'ga 1
had never been in lov herself, and it
takes more than strawberry puff-balls to
cure such heartaches.
The soft, nurplish dusk lay over the
farm when Dorothy felt a gentle touch
on her shoulder.
"Come in to supper, child. You'll
catch your death o' cold."
She "rose up slow.'v.
I am not going into the house," she
said. "I should smother."
Miss Abigail held forth the tempting
bait within, and shook her head in sor
rowful foreboding as utterly disregard
ful Dorothy walked away. Down at the
gate she paused the low, wide, green
gate where she had so often stood to
listen to the ringing footstep coming up
the country road.
So often, but now never again! De
spite the pain of remembrance she found
herself recalling every dear word, and
look, and thought of the dead summer
days. She ha-i been something of a
bookworm all her life, and now flashed
to her brain and there burned the re
bellious, passionate cry of Othello:
"Mv heart is turned to stone: I strike it
And it hurts my hand 1"
Hark! a footstep! she must go in;
how foolish she was, growing to imag
ine it might be his.
Nearer nearer still! She could not
move. She leaned heavily against the
green post-pillar. A voice: Whose
voice? The gate was flung wide; close
arms were round her
Dark! Oh, how dark it was grow
ing .
Five minutes later Miss Abigail look
ed up in swift amazement as a tall young
ngurc siroue nno me nine parior uear
iug in his arms a slender, pink-clad
burden.
"You!" she cried. "I thought you
had gone to Europe with your wife.
We read it in the Cyclops Courier,
and "
"And you believed it? Good heavens!
Was that why Dolly fainted at sight of
me? My father and mother sailed foi
the Continent. Our initials are the
same. I told them all about Dorothy
before they left, and if she will only con
sent to a hurried marriage we will join
them in Paris in September. Oh, you're
listening, yon dear little sinner! What
do you say yes? That is right! And
you doubted me! Dolly, Dolly! aren't
you ashamed of yourself?"
"Yes," said Dolly, "I am!" Chicago
Tribune.
Hot and Cold Drinks.
Cold drinks are natural to man,
though most people nowadavs are so
used to hot drinks that they d"o not feel
satisfaction really stimulation unless
they have them. Hot drinks are inju
rious to the tongue, for they deaden its
sensation, and, after taking hot soup or
drink, the tongue becomes quite numb
and unable to tas'e the fine flavor of a
dish. The teeth are greatly injured by
them, and many dentists say that caries
is due to them alone. They crack the
enamel, and thus allow caries to set in.
When caries has once set in hot drinks
are a common cause of neuralgia.
Hot drinks are especially hurtful to
the stomach. They cause irritation of
the nerves of the stomach, and conse
quent mild inflammation of that organ,
so that after a hot drink the stomach is
red and congested. In time a debili
tated condition is set up. A tempera
ture of 100 degrees Fahr. also destroys
the active ferment of the gastric juice,
pepsin, and so leads to indigestion. If
the stomach is at all disordered, hot
drinks give rise to much griping pain,
and in mam' cases to vomiting. In
cases of diarrhrca, too, hot drinks only
increase it, while cold ones tend to les
sen it.
Thirst is not common in winter, un
less sugary or hot-spiced foods have
been taken. In cold weather the air
contains more moisture than in hot, and
in cold weather there is less perspira
tion. Hot drinks increase the volume
of heat in the body, and if that is not
required it is quickly got rid of by the
skin. Water is the bi'st thirst quencher,
but if simple food be taken, the needs of
drink will be small. Many vegetarians
drink nothing from month to month,
the only fluid they get being the juices
of the fruits which they eat. But pleas
ant drinks, l.ke tea, coffee, etc., maybe
taken luke warm for a time with little
apparent damage. The least injurious
is cocoa, made with plenty of milk, and
allowed to stand until nearly cool. A
good test is to apply the little finger to
the drink, and if it be not too hot to it,
then it may be safely taken. Boston
Science News.
Chewed Codfish.
" Would vou like to buy some con
densed codfi'sh? "
" What is condensed codfish? "
The man opened a box and showed a
preparation which he said was simply
ground codfish.
" What put it into your head to grind
it in this manner ? "
"Well, I was in the fish business,
barely making enough to keep soul and
body together, when a friend came in
and chaffed me for not going into some
other business. He picked up a big
codfish scornfully and said : " Now,
that is a pretty thing to offer a man ;.its
just a mess of" strings that nobody can
chew." And to chafe me still further,
he said in sort of a jocular wav, " You
ought to hire a boy to chew" that fish
for your customers." I got an idea
from that, and before night I had a
grinding machine, and next morning I
put out a sign Condensed Codfish.1
Everybody wondered what that was,
and most of them bought some to try.
It took like fire, and in less than a
month I was clearing $35 a day on that
alone and hail half a dozen instead of
one boy to do the chewing for my cus
tomers. It is a big bnsiness now. I
am shippiug it all over the country and
am about to close arrangements for
supplying the English market through
a Aew York house. If that succeeds I
can retire in five years with a fortune.
MV friend is kpAnlnor IwiVa fnr nut rt
SSV8 he is the invpntnr tt ntta'm-aA nniL.
." Chicago Herald.
In the- Mely Meufalas.
On the bank of the Donets River, in
the Province of Kharkoff, there is a
high, chalky mountain, as- white as
snow, whose'shape reminds the beholder
I an enormous temple, crowned with a
pinnacle. Upon a slope on the side of
the mountain stands a convent whose
shining gilt domes rise above the ma
jestic old oak trees that surround it.
This is the Convent of the Holy Moun
tains. It was established by Russian
monks in the twelfth-century, when the
place was in the possession of the Tar
tars. The monks lived in catacombs
connected by a subterranean passage
with the river. In 'the Russian chroni
cles the convent was known as the one
beyond the frontier." ManyChristian
hermits were murdered there by the
Tartars. At length the holy fathers
determined to defend themselves. They
obtained cannon and other arms, and
repeate'dly saved not only themselves,
but also many Russian prisoners, from
the Tartars. In the course of time,
when the Muscovite Czars conquered
the Tartars, the convent became a sacred
asylum for all who were persecuted by
the Czar's authorities. Runaway peas
ants, Cossacks, and even rebellious
Boyards, found a safe abode there. By
order of the Czar the monks were dis-
Bersed, and the convent was abolished,
tiring the present centuiy the convent
has been re-established, but the cata
combs, left alone for four centuries,
were quite forgotten until about twenty
years ago, when they were accidentally
discovered. They have since been
cleared.
On entering the convent I noticed
everywhere well-fed and well-dressed
monks idling about. "How unlike these
men are to those who centuries ago dug
these catacombs, and with swords in
their hands fought against the Tartar
hordes," I said to myself. 1 gave a hint
of my thought to an intelligent .monk
whose acquaintance I made.
"Don't do us injustice," he answered.
"Times are changed, and men are
changed, too; but we have high charac
ters of our own. Follow me."
He led me into the underground
church, where, during four centuries,
not a prayer was delivered nor a taper
burned. A shudder seized me when I
found myself in a dark, damp under
ground passage. The lower we descend
ed, the more stifling: the air was. Finally
we entered the church, which was a dark,
dripping vault The severe faces of the
holy images seemed to tremble in the
weak light of the oil lamps that hung
before them. "And here for centuries
God was glorified, and men tried to
silence the voice of their nature,"
thought I. Suddenly I was startled by
a strange appearance. There slowly
approached us a figure clad in a wide,
dark cloak, ornamented with while
insignia the skull and bones and white
crosses. It was a schema-monk.
"Who is here?" he asked in a hollow
voice.
"A monk and a layman, holy father,"
answered my guide.
"Layman! Why layman? Go and
pray that you may be received into the
convent. Hasten for the ax is laid at
the root of the tree. An unquenchable
fire is blazing, and the gnashing of the
teeth of sinners is heard. O Lord, Lord!"
The schema-monk prostrated himself
on the earthen floor and sobbed. We
left the church. My guide told me that
the schema-monk had lived in the cata
combs for over thirteen years.
We entered another underground
apartment. An iron door was seen at
the end of a passage.
"In that cell," said my guide, "the
Hermit John lived for seventeen years.
He was born in 1795. From boyhood he
seemed to be a religious enthusiast, yet
he stayed in the world until his thirty
eighth year. Then, he entered the con
vent, put fetters upon himself, and be
gan to mortify his flesh. The meanest
?nd hardest work he performed joyfully.
He prayed to be permitted to shut him
self up in the catcombs, but the Prior
submitted him to various trials for years.
At length, in 1860, he was blessed and
allowed to shut himself up in this cell.
A coffin with a little straw in it was put
in the cell, and daily bread and water
were given to him. Here he remained
in the winter, without any stove. He
rayed day and night. Finally he
ooked like a skeleton, and then he had
visions, various saints, ana even
Christ, appeared to him, and comforted
him. There is a little hole leading from
his cell to the underground church. Ap
plying his ear to that hole, John used
to listen to the divine services in the
church. At last, in 1877, he died, and
was buried in the cell."
My guide opened the iron door, and
there in the floor I saw the black grave
of the hermit. Heavy fetters lay on the
floor. A dark painting of the crucifixion
hung on the wall, which was lighted by
an oil lamp.
When we emerged from the catacombs
we met a stout, handsome monk, with
two young women leaning on his arms.
Cor. N. Y. Sun.
The Horrible Story or Hue.
Pierre Lote, an officer of the French
expeditionary force in Tonquin, sends
to the Paris Fiqaro the following
description of the fall of Hue: The
beaten Annamites were cooped up in
the burning village. The only road of
escape from the flames lay under the
guns of the fort, which was filled with
sailors armed with Krapotehat repeat
ing rifles with sights carefully adjusted
to the distance. Magazines of rifles
were duly loaded. The men looked on
waiting until a flank movement of the
other troops and the firing of the bam
boo huts should drive the human quarry
out before them. We saw them halting
at the end of the village with singed
hair and garments. Then after a few
moments' hesitation, tucking up their
flowing robes as high as they could, and
trying to protect their heads with planks
against the impending shower of bul
lets, thev rushed on. A great butcher-
ing then commenced,
Two volleys were
fired
It was quite a treat to see these
fan-like streams of bullets sweeping
down upon the fugitives. They were
poured in twice in one minute, at the
word, of command, and in a sure,
methodical manner. It was like a jet
from a huge watering-pot, which mowed
them down by dozens. In a cloud of
dust and gravel we could see some who
seemed to be driven mad, picking them
selves up like wounded animals. Gath
ering up their robes in a comical man
ner, their long hair unfastened and
streaming down their backs made
them look like women. Others tried
to escape by swimming a lagoon to try
to reach the junks. These were killed
in the water. Some good divers re
mained a long time underwater. Our
men continued to kill them all the same,
when they came up to breathe, like rats.
The men then amused themselves count
ing the dead fifty on the left, eighty to
the right. In the village were small
heaps. With those piled in the south
ern forts, about eight hundred or a
thousand must have been disposed of.
The sailors made bets as to the number
destroyed. About nine in the morning
all was over and the rout of the Annam
ites was complete. The heat was in
tense, and the sailors, maddened by the
sun and the noise, and quivering with
excitement, rushed out of the fort after
the wounded. Some were crouching in
holes, others were feigning death, while
others at the last gasp were stretching
out their hands, pleading for mercy and
shouting "Han Han" in heart-rending
accents. Our men slaughtered them
with bayonets, or brained them with
the but ends of their muskets. The
Annamite servants, diminutive, effemi
nate lads, who had followed the infant
ry from Saigon, wsfe hunted out -When
sm of the focitiTM was nnearthW ft I
sailors would cry out, "Here's another.
Come gi7e him Leang Leang." These
sailors were absolutely madmen. The
officers attempted to restrain them, and
said to them: "You ought to be ashamed
of such cowardly, dirty work." They
replied: "TheAnnamites are savages.
They carried the head of Captain
Riviere on the top of a pole, and if they
earned the day they would cut the
French to pieces or "saw them in two
with planks." There was no reply pos
sible to this. It was true, and so they
were left to their grim work.
The Most Dangerous Form of Gambling.
What is the worse kind of gambling?
might be a subject for some of our de
bating societies or magazine symposi
ums. The most public is, as a rule,
considered to be the most disreputable.
Little boys playing pitch-and-toss in the
streets recall the shocking career of
Hogarth's "Idle Apprentice. The open
doors, the gilded saloons, the gay crowd
at Monte Carlo repel the thoughtful as
much as they attract the thoughtless.
Then plaving hiffh at a club is general
ly considered worse than playing for
the same stakes at a friend's house. It
would therefore seem as if in this case
"vice lost half its sin by losing all its
grossness." But if we come to the real
danger, it is open to question whether
the man who begins to speculate on the
Stock Exchange is not in a more
perilous path than any of his rivals in
the other forms of gambling. In the
first place, there is the great temptation
that he can do it. so to speak, in the
dark. He can live, to outward seeming,
a quiet and decorous life, attending to
his ostensible work with rigid punctual
it' and going to church with his family
twice on Sunday. Yet through a few
lines a telegram, or a hurried visit to
the city he may be gambling away, in
a few hours, sums so big that if he
staked one-hundredth part of the
amount on the turn-up of a card he
would consider himself, and be held by
his . friends, wicked or insane. If he
went to Monaco he could only lose all
the money in his pockets; but one
glance at an evening paper sometimes
tells him that he has lost far beyond his
savings and is doomed to beggary per
haps for life. He often stakes what lie
does not possess and gambles with
counters he cannot redeem. His wife
and his children know nothing of the
secret work until ruin is brought home
to them by his flight sometimes by his
suicide. Minor catastrophes are at
tested in the domestic tales of many
thousand households, and often in those
where the loss means all. Sometimes a
man, through the very limit of his
capital and the narrowness of the in
come derived from it, is tempted into
dangerous investments, or speculations
supposed to be safe, and loses in a few
weeks the whole of the little store on
which he and his family relied. If we
could by any means draw a cordon
around the Stock Exchange and its en
virons and forbid the entry of any
"small outsider," either personally or
by letter or telegram, a widespread and
insidious evil, more dangerous to the
peace and .security of English homes
than all the card-parties in town' or
country, would be arrested at its source.
London Telegraph.
Henry Clay on Signs.
I will relate a story of Henry Clay,
who once oftered in the Senate a resolu
tion in which he Avas greatly interested,
and which was amended out of all like
ness to itself before its passage, nothing
of the original resolutions heing left.
Mr. Clay rose, much disgusted, and said
it reminded him of the misfortune of his
old boot-maker at Ashland, Job Jenkins.
(I believe this is but a variant of a story
told by Benjamin Franklin, but at all
events this is what Mr. Clay said):
Jenkins was an old resident of the
place and well-known for honesty of
dealing. He was induced one day, by
an enterprising painter, to put an elab
orate sign over his shop door thus:
"Job Jenkins sells boots and shoes,
cheap for cash." It looked and read
well from across the street, but an old
friend ran to him and in a very confiden
tial manner said: "My dear Job, it looks
very foolish in you to give information
that we all well know. Everybody
knows that you sell only for cash. It
looks insulting to place it upon your
sign. Take it off at once or it will ruin
your business." Job sorrowfully took
it oft. Another good and wise man
called in to express his admiration of
the sign: "Only, my dear Job, you in
sult the intelligence of the whole town
by placing upon that sign just what
everybody knows. They all know, with
out being told, that Job Jenkins sells
boots ana shoes. Have it taken off at
once, if you wish to retain your popu
larity." The objectionable words were
at once stricken out. The sign then read
"Job Jenkins." All his neighbors
hooted and laughed at him for his vanity
in putting up his name in gilt letters
over a door so well known as the shop
of Job Jenkins. "We all know you,
dear Job, and love you, so please take
down that proud-looking sign." Job
did do so, and, relying upon the good
quality of his work, his business pros
pered as well without the sign as with
it, and nobody had any improvements
to offer. Cor. N. Y. Evening Post.
-
A Phenomenal Maine Girl.
The antagonist of modern advanced
education, if there be any, should have
heard a little lecture that a gentleman
five on the street Wednesday morning,
he question had arisen as to the ten
dency of modern advanced education to
create a disrust for manual labor. The
centleman told an anecdote. A
A young
mLewis-
ladv. who is very well known
ton and Auburn, and who has had a
liberal education in America, a course
of study in the German schools, and
who has since taught in some of the
leading: schools of this State and others,
came home to her father's farm this
summer. The hours hung rather
heavily. "Father, your office needs
shingling," says she one day. The next
day the shingles were on the spot, and
the young lady proposed to have some
fun and combine it in a legitimate way
with solid work. She built the stagings
geometrically, ran the lines after Euclid,
and shingled the office as neatly and ex
peditiously as the village professor of
shingling "himself could nave done. She
pulled down the staging and erected it
again over the ell to the house, and, in
spite. of parental injunction, shingled
the ell and a sloping shed attached. She
practiced music for pleasure in the
meantime, however, and read German
for a pastime. "Nothing," added the
gentleman, "would be further from her
own inclination than notoriety."
Lewiston (Me.) Journal.
m
Mr. John L. Brooks, who died recently
at Napa, Cal., leaving an estate of about
one hundred thousand dollars, willed
most of it to two personal friends, say
ing in his will: "I prefer that my estate
should go, after my death, to those who
have been kind and devoted to me here,
rather than to relatives far away, who
are, most of them at least, able to take
care of themselves, and from whose
lives and interests I have long been re
moved. 1 say this without any dispar
agement to them, and in order to show
that I have duly considered and deliber
ately decided as to these my testament
ary wishes." San Francisco Call.
During a recent hunting excursion
in the Bad Lands, Montana, in which
the Marquise de Mores was accompanied
by her husband, she shot and killed
three deer with as much dexterity as
though she was an expert at the business.
The Crow Indians are
to worth $2,500 sash in land
Chased by Flames.
I don't expect to live much longer,
nd after I am dead I wan't you to put
in the papers the story of that ride I
bad from Prospect' to Broeton in 1869."
The speaker was Duff Brown, an old
locomotive engineer, who was lying at
his home in Portland, this county,
dying with consumption. This was
several weeks ago. Un the 7th of this
month he died. He was near! GO vears
old. Hi3 story of the awful ride is
this:
"In 1839 I was running a mixed
train on the Buffalo, Corry & Erie Rail
way. The track between Prospect or
Mayvillc Summit and Brocton Junc
tion is so crooked that, while the dis
tance is actually only ten miles, the
curves make it by rail fourteen. The
grade for the whole distance is over
seventy feet to the mile.
"About nine o'clock on the night of
August 17, 1869, we reached the Sum
mit with a train of two passenger cars,
six oil cars and a box car. The latter
contained two valuable trotting horses,
and their keepers with them, on their
way, I believe, to the Cleveland meet
ing. There were fifty or sixty passen
gers in the two cars. I got the signal
from the conductor to start, and I
pulled out. We had got under consid
erable headway when, looking back, I
saw that an oil car in the middle of the
train was on fire. I reversed my en
gine and whistled for brakes. "The
conductor and brakemen jumped off.
They uncoupled the passenger cars and
set the brakes on them, bringing them
to a stop. Supposing that the brakes,
on the burning oil cars would alio bo
put on, I called to a brakeman on the
box car to draw the coupling pin be
tween that car and the head oil tank,
backing so that he could do it, intend
ing to run far enough away to save the
box car and locomotive". As I ran
down the hill, after the pin had been
drawn, what was my horror to see that
the burniug cars were following me at
a speed that was rapidly increasing.
The men had not succeeded in putting
on the brakes. I saw that the only
thing to be done was to run for it tb
Brocton, and the chances were that
we would never reach there at the
speed which we would be obliged to
ma'ie around tho-ie sharp reverse
curves where we had never run over
twenty miles an hour.
"When I saw the flaming cars for
the whole six were on fire by this time
plunging after me, and only a few
feet away, I pulled tho throttle open.
The oil cars caught me, though, before
I got away. They came with full
force against the rear of the box car,
smashing in one end and knocking the
horses and their keepers flat on the
floor. The heat was almost unbeara
ble, and do my best, I couldn't place
more than thirty feet between the pur
suing column of fire and ourselves. By
the light from the furnace as my fire
man opened the door to pile in the coal
I caught sight of the face of one of tho
horsemen in the box car, he having
climbed up to the grated opening in the
end. It was as pale as death, and he
begged me for God's sake to give her
more steam. 1 was giving her then all
the steam she could carry, and the
trade itself was enough to carry us
own at the rate of fifty miles an hour.
We went so fast that the engine could
not pump. Every time we struck ono
of those curves the old girl would al
most run on one set of wheels, and why
in the world she didn't topple over is
something I never could understand.
She seemed to know that it was a race
of life and death, and worked as if she
were alive.
" The night was dark, and the road
ran through woods, deep rock cuts, and
along high embankments. There we
were, thundering along at a lightning
speed, and only a few paces behind us
that fiery demon in full pursuit. There
were fifty thousand gallons of oil in
tnose tanKs at least, ami it was ail in
flame, making a flying avalanche of
fire five hundred feet long. The flames
leaped into the air nearly a hundred
feet. Their roar was like that of some
great cataract. Now and then a tank
would explode with a noise like a can
non, when a column of flame and pitch
smoke would mount high above the
body of the flames, and showers ol
burning oil would be scattered about in
the woods. The whole country was
lighted up for miles around.
" Well, it wasn't long, going at the
rate Ave made, before the lights of Broc
ton came in sight down in the valley.
The relief I felt when these came in
view was short lived, for I remembered
that train No. 8 on the Lake Shore
would be due at the junction just about
the time we would reach it. No. 8 was
the Cincinnati express. Our only hope
all along during the race had been
that the switchman at the junc
tion would think far enough to open
the switches there, connecting the
cross-cut track with the Lake Shore
track, and let us run in on the latter,
where the grade would be against us,
if anything, and where we could soon
get out of the way of the oil cars. The
switch, of course, would be closed now
for the express, and our last hope was
gone, unless the express was late, or
somebody had sense enough to flag it.
While we were thinking of this we saw
the express tearing along toward the
junction. Could we reach the junction,
fet the switch, and the switch be set
ack for the express before the latter
got there? If not there would be an
inevitable crash in which not only we,
but probablv scores of others, would be
crushed to death. All this conjecturing
did not occupy two seconds, but in that
two seconds I lived years.
" 'Good God!' I said to my firemen,
what are we to do now?'
"The fireman promptly replied and
he was a brave little fellow that I
should whistle for the switch and take
the chances. .Idid so. That whistle
was one prolonged yell of agony. It
.vas a shriek that seemed to tell us that
our brave old engine knew
our danger
and had her fears. Neither the fire
man nor myself spoke another word.
"My fireman and I were so weak
when we brought our locomotive to a
stop that we could not get out of the
cab. The two horsemen were uncon
scious in the box car. The horses were
ruined. And how long do you think
we were in making sixteen mile3? We
ran two miles up to the Lake Shore
track. Just twelve minutes from the
Summit to the spot where we stopped!
A plumb eighty miles an hour, not
counting the time lost getting under
headway and stopping beyond Brocton.
"Thanks be to God! The engineer
on the express train, seeing us tearing
down that mountain with an eighth of
a mile of solid fire in close pursuit of
us, knew in a moment that only one
thing could save us. He whistled for
brakes and got his train to a stand not
ten feet away from the switch. The
switchman now answered our signal
and we shot in on the Shore track and
whizzed on up by the depot and
through the place like a rocket. The
burning cars followed. us in, of course,
but their race was run. They had no
propellingpowcrnow, and after chasing
us for a mile they eave up the pursuit.
and in three hours there was nothing
left ot tnem but smoking
Dunkirk Cor. N. Y. Sun.
ruins."
A Kentucky housewife glories in
the possession of a waffle-iron made by
a negro blaeksmith in 1760, and which
age has not withered, as it still turns
out waffles with the date of that year
imprinted on them; all of which is too
wattle wonderful to be true. Louisville
Courier-Journal,
m m
The Salvation Army of England is
having fifteen halls built, with seating
capacity for 25,000 people.
OF GENERAL INTEREST.
Mrs. Ross docs not read the papers
for fear she will find something about
Charley in them. Philadelphia Press.
Under the scepter of the Czar of
Russia live thirty-eight different nation
alities, each speaking its own language,
which is foreign to all others.
Wedding cards are getting larger,
and it is hard to distinguish them from
invitations to "opening!" at the fashion
able milliners'. Chicago Journal.
Watchmen in the Cincinnati whole
sale district declare that the ghost of a
New York traveling salesman appears
to them each 'night. Cincinnati Times.
Mineola has the longest wagon road
bridge in Texas, if not in the world. It
is across the Sabine River and swamp
a mile and three-quarters. Chicago
Herald.
Workmen digging in the bed of
phosphate recently discovered at Cam
bridge, Md., found the petrified skulls
of three children, and the foot, ankle,
and slipper of a woman.
A remarkably beautiful rabbit was
killed near Eufaula, La., the other day.
It was of a solid light buff or dove color
on the back, with snow white hair un
derneath and on the legs, and pink-colored
eyes.
The big diamond recently found in
South Africa, the ugh weighing nearly
six ounces, is not estimated as worth
more than $10,000, the color being bad.
However, a bath of acid has improved
it. N. Y. Sun.
Mrs. Lyle Cheeny, of Baltic, Conn.,
has a gold-fish, and by some way it got
out of the water onto the floor and was
there from six to eight hours. When
thev put it back it revived, and is now
all "right. Hartford Post.
Joking with loaded revolvers seems
to be a pastime that never loses interest.
Fortunately the new fashion seems to be
to use the shooter as his own target. If
it keeps up that way some fools of the
present generation will cease to trouble
the worm. Chicago Inter Ocean.
Buffalos, "after an absence of seve
ral years, are now returning to the plains
of North Texas, and will likely remain
there if they can engage the sympathy
of the Government in establishing laws
forbidding their wholesale and wanton
destruction by the mighty Nimrods.
Chicago Times.
The Georgian's mouth waters while
he talks of possum, hedged in with
brown gravy and sweet potatoes with
sugar on them.. A Georgia editor, who
attended a hunt and the subsequent
feast, remarks: 'It was the first 'possum
we ever ate, but if our legs holu out it
will not be the lastone." Chicago Xews.
The walls of Canton, China, are of
sandstone, capped with brick. They
are twenty feet thick and from twenty
five to forty feet high. There are twelve
outer gates, four in the partition wall,
and two water gates, through which
boats pass into the moat east and west.
The gates are all shut at night, and a
i guard is stationed near them to preserve
order.
j A Pennsylvania desperado got his
' eyes on a deaf and dumb girl, whom he
1 discovered to be verv wealthy. Having a
1 desire to increase his worldly storene
set about making love to her and won
her heart. Making arrangements for
an uninterrupted ceremony, he went
after a clergvman, whom he induced
by the moral suasion of a leveled revol
ver to unite him in marriage to the
young ladv. The romance of Turpin is
not quite dead in useful remembrance.
Philadelphia Record.
The construction of a railroad track
leading to the new Michigan Central
Bridge at the Niagara Falls has already
made sad havoc with the beauties of the
romantic looking cliff above Horseshoe
Falls. Huge unsightly piles of red clay,
taken from the excavations, are deposi
ited on the hitherto grassv flats and
slopes, while a coal yard and freight
station disfigures what would otherwise
be one of the most desirable portions of
the proposed Park on the American side
of the river. Buffalo Exjircss.
Nellie B. Baily, twenty-one years
old, well educated and good looking,
agreed some time sinee to go to Texas
with a rich Englishman named Clement
Bothenily, and start a sheep ranch. Re
cently, in the Indian Territory, she shot
and killed him, burned his body, and
teok possession of his moncv, jewelry
and outfit, in all worth 8107,000. Then
she started South, but was arrested,
and at Wichita, Kan., was held to the
next-term of the United States Circuit
Court on the charge of murder. The
woman formerly moved in good society
in New York and New Jersey. N. Y.
Herald.
A woman who should know some
thingof her subject says that among the
varieties of coquettes the most dangerous
class, perhaps, "includes those women
who fancy themselves in love with each
fresh lover. There are emotional and
sympathetic women, who, being in
capable of strong feeling themselves,
are borne along by the force of a passion
which fascinates them, and which they
would gladly reciprocate. In their
often renewed" disappointment at find-
ing that the new lover cannot make
-
them forget themselves, they feel a sense
of injustice, and never dream that they
are not the injured ones." Indianapolis
Journal.
m -
How the Enterprising Burglar Burgles.
Now I'll tell you how these fellows do
the work. They do not carry their tools
with them: that would be a dangerous
proceeding in these days of acute de
tectives mid well organized police forces.
Thev steal their implements in the im
mediate neighborhood of the safe upon
which they have designs. In the near
est woodshed they find an ax any old
ax will auswer their purpose, it serving
as a sledge-hammer also in the black
smith shop they secure a cold chisel,
and from the railroad section tool box
get a crowbar and pick. At any time
after nightfall these tools can be secured
within half an hour. They comprise a
complete kit.
When the night has sufficiently ad
vanced the door of the store or office,
as the case may be, is pried open
with the crow bar without any undue
noise. Entrance is effected quickly and
quietly. Once inside, the cracksmen
arrange the shades so that their move
ments cannot be detected from the out
side, and then they begin work without
delay. With the crowbar the safe is
lifted up and toppled over until one ol
the sides rests at an angle of about
forty-live degrees. Then two line
about ten inches apart and sixteen inches
long are drawn, the space within the
lives forming a very nice panel. On
of the men with the ax then cuts through
the outside of the safe with a few well
directed blows. The noise made by
this proceeding is not so great as on
would expect. The outside shell ol
these safes is composed of one-eighth
inch boiler iron, and is very soft. The
cold chisel is next brought into use; the
iron is cut out from the Deginning of the
first line to the beginning of the second,
which completes the work on three side
of the panel. The crow bar is again
brought into service, and the panel is
pried, bent over, and easily broken oil
at the lower end. Taking out the pane!
constitutes the bulk of the work; thai
ompletcd, and ahead there is only
smooth sailing. Underneath the oute:
shell there is found a composition ol
plaster of Paris and alum from six tc
eight iuches thick. This is easily taken
out with the pick. A layer of thin sheet
iron or zinc is next encountered. This
is quickly cut through and the money
box is at the mercy of the thieves.
Dtnver Tribune.
Some Florida orange trees have
Wooaed for the third time this
I KATWAZU).
KATWAIU).
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ragu, Svn City, M. Lot.!:,, &ud all poli.t
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Through Ticket rt tTjo orr-ft r.aui ar-
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luM3,'ife(
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