' ' . . ? , ..' I:. '"'--. , . v ' ' "'; ' ' . ' '- '
O i -x . - v. r
: . . . - ' $ V i . 'V V':- -V -i i - V-V--'-
. i - - - . . , . - ' '
m - . - . ,
, i
jOS. tA.r IIAHRIS, Editor.
$1.50 PER ANNUM, Hf ADYANCX.,.,
FOR THE PUBLIC GOOD.
' -4.
V.
V OL. V".
CHAPEL HILL, N. C, SATURDAY. SEPTEMBER 4- 1880. ;
- NO. 20.
: i
i-
- ',11
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r ' - J I rll PWW ANNUM. IN AUT All lA.
' . . .
II
- YFBBC0HTS1
It xoftj not.b oxirilok to -wield
Tbe aickli talhft ripened field
IS or oUTt to her.'oa exminier cT.es.
The reptz hong among the afceayfa.
Yet wberg 6utt&ntj,a taskitrrongM '
In unison wim yocB reu UMragnt.
Tbe near ao future blend In' one; , j
And whitBOVr is willed' k done. i
AndnnrB theytefnl eeffieowhagDCe
Comes, day by dy, the recompense :
The hope, the trust, tbe purpose s'ayed.
The foouUin, and the noonday shade,.
And were this life the utmost span, ;
Tbe only end and aim of man, j
letter the toil of fields like these ! - ''
Than waking dreams and slothful ease.'
!
Bat life, though falling like our grain,
like that, rerires and springs again ;
And, early called, how blest are they.
Who wait in hearen their harvest day !
Kalhie's Wedding Dowry.
'Onlyjbne silk, and that not new ! Dear
me, dear me, ii is ureaaiui: ana lrs
Crayson caught up the pretty bodice of the
: .... j ; a il
Katbie, heuuiung rufties by the window,
Uuhed. . j
Vliat can't be cured must be endur
tl; there's no help for it, auntie," she
said.
Yes, tl.ere was help for it," cried the
i.dy, tossing 'the garment 'from her, if
you had taken my advice ; but you must
gv and act like a simpleton! The idea of a
girl of your ajre giving away her hard earn
ings, and then getting married without
even a decent change of clothing ! I de
clare it is too absurd ! And you are mak
ing a good match, too. Charley Montague
conies of one of the best families in the
country, and he'll be rich ono of these
days." i
i "At which time, let us hope, my scanty
wardrobe will be replenished," said Kathie,
merrily.
Her aunt frowned contemptuously.
But what are you to do now If ' -she
ent onl What do you think .Mrs. Mon
tague, of Oaklands, will think of you when
she sees your marriage outfit ? Wait un
til she sees you in your shabby garments."
"Shabby garments! ' said Kathie, open
ing her bright brown eyes,
u.ents are not shabby, auntie.
Jly. gar
I am quite
jfure 1" never looked shabby iu mv whole
life." V-
Mrs. Grayson glanced at the trim, grace
ful ngure. The cloe-riiting blue merino
was laultless ; the linen cults and collars
were as spotless as snow. Kathie was1
right; she never did look shabby.
Jlrs. Cirayson; Kathie's well-to-do aunt,
with daughter of her own, who trailed their
silks in the dust,' and tumbled their plumes
and laces, and looked dowdy all the while,
regarded the trim little figure at the win
dow with a half-admiring, half-sneering
smile, ;
5uch a simpleton as you have been,"
said her aunt, ;afu.-r toiling, aud teaching
for your money, to luiu round aud give it
away ! 1 declare it puts me out of temper
to think of it."
What else could I do?" the girl bmst
out, passionately. "Could I see poor
George's cottage sold over his head and he
and his wife aud children turned iuto the
street.'
"Assuredly," answere'd the lady, coolly,
"he couid have rented a house easily en
ough. ,ln your p!ace, 1 should have kept
my money iu my pocket; but you wouldu't
listen to my advice. You are'sorrow for
it now, no doubt." ''
"1 am not sorry. I would do the Mine
thing again to-morrow. I am glad I had
the uiouey to pay poor George's debt, and
i don't care it 1 do look shabby." j
"Very well, I fchall not try to care either,
1 shan't help you; 1 told you in the begin
ning. I can't afford it ; and even if I
could, I shouid not feel it my duty."3 You
would be headstrong and senseless ; you
muit bean the consequence. I'll give you
some lace for your neck and sleeves, and
you may wear that garnet set of Jose
phine's.' . !
"1 don't want any lace; I've some tht
belonged to my mamma; and 1 wouldn't
wear Josephine's garnets for anything."
Oh, very well ! don't snap my head off;
1 beg; you needn't' wear them. Much
thanks one gets for trying to assist you!
You won't wear my hat either, I suppose?
How about that I !
"1 have plenty of tnmmings; I shall
trim that light felt I wore lasl winter."
"And your j c':et f Where's that to come
from, pray?"
Kathie s tears were gone ; her brown
eyes Hashed like stars.
4 1 inteid to make myfelf a jacket of
grandfather's old ovric at," she replied.
Kaihie then tlirew aside her rufties, and
going to the cloth-press, brought but the
old coat.
"The material is very flue, she said,
''and this rich, old-fashioned fur will cut
iuto nice strips' for trimming; I can make
a handsome jacket out of it, and I! think,"
Jhe added, softly," '"grandpapa would like
me to have it if tie knew." j
"Grandpapa,, indeed'" echoed Mrs.
Grayson. 'l should think you'd have but
little respect for his memory after the man
ner he treated you; iwver leaving j-ouva
penny, after you nursed hiuiand slaved for
him as you did." - , j
"I think he intended to leave. me some
thing," said Kathie. know he did ; but
lie died so suddenly, and' tliere was : soma
hiist&kcv"-- - -
'Oh, nonsense, I wouldn't give -a fig for
tood intentional He had lots of money
everybody knows that, i It. has all gone to
ihat scapegrace Dugald, and you haven't a
billing for your wedding dowry."
"Charlie won't mind that," said Kathie;
W cheeks blooming like a rose.
bhe took the old coat and crossing to the
window, began to rip the closely stitched
auis, her pretty, fresh face lokiug sad
and ; downcast., ' Aunt Grayson's : wordly
wise tails' had put her out of heart.
All her life she had been such a brave,
sweet little soul. Left an orphan early,
she had lived with grandfather; and made
his last days bright.
"You're a dear littlef child, Kathie ; by-and-by,
when you think of being a bride,
I will give you a wedding dowry."
He had said so a dozen times, yet, after
his sudden death, one midwinter night,
there was no mention bf Kathie in his will,
and 'everything went to Dugald, the souof
a second marriage ' . ' Y ; i
Kathio did not com plain ; but it cut her
, to the heart to think grandpapa had'fortrot
ten her. She tried not to believe? it ; tfcere
was some mistake. .6-; il '.fiiL . . 1
And'when Dugald sold out the old home
stead;and wen, olT, she gathered up all the
old souvenirs and took care of them. The
old fur-trimmed overcoat was one.
Then lodging at her aunt's, she taught
the village children, and saved up her earn
ings for ' her. wedding-day ; for Charles
Montague loved her and bad asked her to
be his wife. ,
The wedding-day was appointed, and
she was beginning, with fluttering heart to
think about making her purchasers, when
herljrother George fell ill ; amTworse, fell
into trouble. He was rather a thriftless
man and had been unfortunate; his little
home was mortgaged, and unless the debt
could be repaid, the house wo jld be sold over
his head. Kathie heard, and did .not hesi
tate an instant. Her boarded earnings went
to pay the debt.
It was . so hard to be so cramped for a
little money, and one's wedding day so near.
Her4 wardrobe was limited." Sue needed a
nice seal-brown cashmere dreadfully, and
a light ailk or two for evening wear. Aunt
Grayson told the truth she would look
shabby in the grand rooms at Oaklands, in
the very midst of Charley's stately sisters.
The tears came faster, and presently the
little pearl handled knife, with which she
was ripping the scams, fell suddenly, and
cut a great gash across the breast of the
coatj 1
. Kathie gave a ,littlei shriek of dismay.
"There, now! I've spoiled the best of
the cloth; 1 can't get my jacket out. What
shall ! do?" V .
Down went the bright young head, and
with her face buried in grandpapa's old
coat,' Kathie cried as if her heart would
break.
tometb"iug rustled under her hands.
"Yhy,- what's this? Some of poor
grandpapa's papers!"
bhe tore the lining loose, and there be
neath the. wadding, was a package done
up in parchment, and tied with red tape.
Kathie drew it forth. On one side was
wriubu: "Fiiis-package- belongs to my
grand-daughter Kathie." , '
. "Why, what cau it be?" cried the young
girl, her lingexB fluttering, as she tu jged at
the tape. ;
At last the knot yielded, and she unfold
ed the package. Folded coupon bonds a
good dozen at least and a thick layer of
crisp bank notes. On the top, a'little note,
she read it. " i:: .
"My dear little grand-daughter, hero is
your marriage dowry $10,000. One day
some fine fellow will claim you for his
witje.' You are a trea-ure in yourself, but
take this from old grandpapa."
"Oh, iirandpapa; you did not forget
me!'J so 0 bed Kathie.
A ring at the door startled her. She
immeihately looked out and saw her lover,
and gathering her treasure into the lap pi
her apron, she rushed out to meet hiin.
"Oh, Charlie, come quick! I've such
wonderful news to tell you."
The" young man , followed her to the
drawing-room, wondering what had hap
pened. . -
She told him all.
"My darling,"' said, his voice thrilling
with tenderness, lT am so glad of all this,
because j-ou are glad. " For m own part,
1 would rather have taken these darling
litt le hands without a shilling in them. You
need no dowry, Kathie ; you are crowned
with 1 beauty, and purity, and goodness.
In my- eyes you are always fresh and fair,
and lovely, no' matter what you wear. I
love you lor your own sweet self, my darl-
lnir.
Jvatliie let the .folded coupons and bank
notes' slip from her apron and fall to the
lloor in a rustl ing shower. ' . I
"Oh,. Charlie!" she whupered, leaning
her head against his shoulder, "I am so
4Glad-of what, Kathie f Grandpapas
dowry I" .
"Iso; glad you love me for. myself .
He clasped her closely, and at their feet
grandpapa s marriage dowry lay unheeded.
Interior of Africa.
Although we have not, nor are we likely
to have for years, any accurate statistics of
- m . A
the population oi tne interior oi amca
there is very little doubt that we have
greatly underrated it.- Much important
information has lately been gatnereo on
the subject, especially concerning the dis
tribution and density o that iar on lanu.
i the trreat lake district lor instance,
there are territories as thickly settled as
i , . i . ft tl
rhatiy f .European States, relatively suiau
areas possessing millions oi people, ine
negro regions are by far the most popu
lous, while the desert regions are the re
verse.? A " French geographical society
irives the estimated fiuures of various sub
divisions of that continent as follows : In
the Soudan the population is 80,000,000,
or about fifty-three persons per square mile.
The town of Hida, on the .Niger, for ex
ample contains fully 90,000 inhabitants.
East Africa 'fs? rated at 30,000,000 and
equatorial Africa at some 40, 000, 000 souls.
A late authority on ethnology sets down
the negroes as numerically 130,000,000;
the.Hamites. 30,000,000; the Bantas 13,
000,000; the Moolahs, 8,000,000 the
Nubians, 1,500,000; the Hottentots, 50,
000, making a total of 172,500,000. These
fieurei, only approximate ot course,, are
considered too low by both German.. and
British geographers, the former estimating
the population as mgu a wv.
The Wild Swan.
About the first of September, the Swans
leave the shores 6f the Polar sea, according
to Franklin, and resort .to the lake and
rivers in alout the latitude of Hudson
Bayj(tSO) where they remain preparing for
a departure for the winter, until October,
when they collect in flocks of twenty or
thirty, and seizing favorable weather, wi th
the wind not opposed to the direction of
their flight, they mount high in the air,
.form a prolonged wedge and with loud
screams depart for more genial climes.
When' making either their semi-annual
transmigration, 'or on shorter expeditions,"
an occasional scream equal to "how do you
all come jon behind" issues from the leader.
wluch is almost immediately replied to by
some posterior Swan with an "all's well"
vociferation. " When the leader of the par
ty becomes fatigued with his xtra duty of
cutting the air, he falls in the rear and
his neighbor ta'ces his place. When mom
ted, as sometimes they are, , and several
thousand feet above the eartliiXwith their
diminished and delicate outline hardly per
ceptible against the clear blue of heaven,
this harsh sound softened and modulated by
distance, and issuing from the immence void
above, assumes a supernatural character of
tone and impression, that excites, the first
time heard, strangely peculiar feeling. In
flying, these birds make a strange appear
ance their loug necks protrude and at .pre
sent, at a distance, mere lines with black
points, and occupy m6re thau one-half their
whole length,! theii heavy bodies an I trian
gular wings seeming but mere appendages
to their immense projections in front.
When thus' in motion, tlieir wings pass
through so few degrees of the circle, that,
unless seen horizontally, tliey appear al
most quiescent, being widely different from
the heavy seiiii-circularisweep of the Goose.
The Swan when migrating, with a moderate
wind in his favor, and mounted high in the
air, ceriaintlyj travels at . the rate of one
hundred miles or more an hour, I have
often timed the flight of the Goose, and
found one mile a minute a common rapid
ity, and when the two birds, in a change of
feeding ground, have, been flying near each
oilier, which I have often seen, the Swan
invariable passed with nearly double the
.velocity. The Swan in traveling' from the
northern parts of America to their winter,1
residence, generally keep far inland,
mounted above the highest peaks of th
Alh'trhftnv. and rarelv follow the wate
courses like the Geese,, which usually sto
on -the r ute,paiticulairy, if they have tak'eh
the sea b ard. The Swan rarely pause on
their migrating flight, unless overtaken by
a storm, above the reach of . which occur
rence, they generally soar. j
Theyhavie been seen following the qqt,n
but very few instauces. They , arrive at
their, winter ho-ne which is a belt crossing
the wliole continent, extending from the
latitudes! 40 degi. to - Florida and; even
to ttie-.West India Islands and Mexico, in
October and November, , and. immediately
take' possesion of their regular feeding
grounds. They generally reach these high,
places m the night, and thejirst signal of
their arrivarat their winter abode," is la gen
eral burst of '-j melody, making the shores
ring for; several hours with their vociferar
ting congratulations, whilst making amends
for. a life long fast, and plumming their j
deranged f eatl . ers. . From . these . localities
they rarely depart, unless driven farther';
south by intensely cold weather, until the
vernal excursion. Yrhen the spring arrives, ;
a simi iar collevt'on of forces aat the north,
takes place in Machj after disturbing the
tranquil b )Som of the water for a night, by
incessant washing and dressing, and alarm
ing the quiet neighborhood by a constant
clatter of consulting tongues, they depart
for the noith'aoout daylight with-a gener
al feu de joie oi unmusical screams. -The
Chesapeake -Bay is a great resort for swans
durimr the winter, and whilst there they form
collections of from one td five hundred on
the flats, near the western, shores, and .ex
tend from the outlet of the Susquehannah
almost to the Kip Raps, The connecting
streams also present flue feeding grounds.
They always select places where they can
reach their food by the length of their
necks, as they have never been seen in this
part of the world, to dive under the water,
either for food or safety. . I have often
seated rnyselffor hours within a short dis
tance of several .hundred swans, to watch
their habits and manners, and never saw
one pass entirely under water, though they
will keep the head beneath tornve minutes
at a time. Buonaparte, Synop, mras, u.o.,
in describing the genus Cygnus says, 'f rom
their conformation and lightness of the
thev are unable to sink the
,, j
body.. .
The Dark S.de Of Things.
Some neoDle Dersist in taking a gloomy
view, of everything. There is a man of that
kind living in ward No 13. A neighbor
happened to drop in to see him the other
day and found everybody lively except
"the head of the family.
"How are you all coming on?"
"We are all tolerable except : Bob. He
is laughing and joking because he is going
fishing. I just know he is going to come
home drowned, and howling with a fish
hook sticking in him somewhere."
"Well, the rest seem to be cheerful."
"Yes, sorter. Jemimy is jumping and
skipping about because she is going to a
candy-pulling, but I know, something will
happen to her. I read of a girl in Phila
delphia onlv last year who was coming
home from "a candy-pulling, when a drunk
en man threw his wife out of a three-story
window and killed her."
, "Killed who" .
."Jemimy."
. "Why, no; there she is. .. .
"Well, it might have seen her if she had
been on the pavement . below, where the
woman fell," , .... , . , , "-
"Well, you are looking healthy.
Yes I feel just like the. man did who
dropped dead in New York last. week from
heart disease, ,. He was in high spirits, and
had. a good appetite, and them's just my
Sound of Wells.
In a hilly locality a bell will not ;be heard
half so far as if the land were level, or
nearly 1 so. A bell will be heard a great
deal further lengthways of a valley than
over the hills at the sides. It is frequently
the case that bell-rooms are lower ' than the
surrounding buildings and trees, and- these
obstructions break the sound and prevent
its free passage to a distance. It is fre
quently the case, Joo, that towers have
"smalTwmdowsor openings with the lower
boards! so clcs 3 together as' to almost box
up thepund. In cities the noise of steam
and;Jiorse-cars, manufacturing establish
mentscarriages and carts rattling over the
paveCimjis, etc.v is so great ; that bells are
not expected to be'heafd at any consider
able distance, and this is the reason why, in
all cities, seeral bells are used, for fire
alarm purposes, it being impossible for one
bell, ho matter how large it may be, to pe
heard above the thousand and one noises
incident to every large place. The largest
bell ever made in this country weighed
twenty-two thousand pounds, and, before
it was fractured, hung , on Jity nail, jn.
New York. On one or. two occasions this
bell was heard up the Hudson River thir
teen miles in the night, when the city Was
comparatively quiet. Water is a good
conductor of sound, and aided materially
in making the bell heard as above mention
ed. It is a great mistake to suppose- that
bells can be heard in proportion to their
weight ; that is, that a bell of two thousand
pounds will be heard twice as far as one of
One thousand pounds.; This is not so, for
the1 reason, that 1 the larger bell does not
possess anything like twice the reasonaht
surface of the smaller one. What is gained
and admired in the larger bell is its deep,
majestic, dignified tone, which it is impos
sible to sec ire in the sma ler one, the
weight of a bell invariably governing its
tone. A bell of 100 or 200 pounds, in an
open belfry, on a schoolhouse or factory in
the country, is frequently heard ft a long
distance, out of proportion, apparentlj-, to
one of 1,000 pounds in a church tower near
by; aud instances of this kind frequently
cause no htte comment in the way of com
parison. The reason for this is that the
small bell has a sharp, shrill, penetrating
sound, that must, of necessity, be heard a
gieat deal further in proportion to its
weight thin the low, mel tow "church
going" sound of i the church bell. The
same principle applies to the whistle of a
locomotive, and it is heard a long distance
siniply because its tone is shrill and pene
tratiug. When hung siatiouury and struck,
or tolled, bells will not be heard, as a rule,
half as far as when swung. The swinging
motion throws th mouth of the bell up,
and Hptjonly carries the sound oh"f but im-J
par.t? to it a richness that is always absent
when the bell is at rest and struck. A great
deal is to be gained by ringing a bell prop
erly, throwing the mouth well up, and not
laz ly jiugjiug, it. It is not pliysicial
.strength, that is required iu ringing a bell
so much aal "getting the kn-ic'k". of catch
ing the rope just right, particularly on the
second "down pull." The window in the
tower should be as open as possible, and
the tower should bti ceiled just above the
windows. ' . - ; ' .- :' :''.
iilMgio Mirrors.
At the last meeting of the Physical iSpci-
ety of Pans some hew and curious experi
ments upon the so-called magic mirrors of
Japan were shown by M. Duboscq. : 31ir-
rors having a sufficiently true surfaqe to
give a fairly good virtual image of an ob
ject held near t.b them may yet be very ir
regular in the actual curvature of the sur
face and produce a very irregular real im
age of a luminous point reflected by the
mirror upon a screen. ' It such a mirror be
warmed, the thinner portions' changes their
curvature, bocoming flatter, and yield dark
corresponding, patpues in the disk of re
fleeted light. A mirror which gives Very
imperfect enects when cola win give very
good ones when , heated. If, by means of
a condensing pump, a Uniterm pressure is
exerted against the back of the mirror, the
thinner portions are more affected than the
thick portions, and therefore, as viewed
from the front, becomes less concave than
the rit of the surface, the result upon the
reflected 1 beam being that the pattern of
the thicker parts come out bright oh the
darker ground of the image. Lastly,' if a
mirror be cas; upon the face of the crignal
mirror, and then poiished, it will when
warmed become a "magic" mirror," though
when cold it yields only a uniformly ilium
inated disk upon the screen. This last ex
periment 1 alone suffices to show that the
cause of the repuied magical prop2rty is to
be sought, not in any difference of reflec
tive power but in slight differences of cur
vature of the surface.
A Had Parrot.
. i -
Rfmitlv as a bov. not over-burdened
with pressing business was walking along
State street. Rochester, he espied a sedate
parrot, imprisoned in a cage in front of a
saloon and meditating, ior augui, jvuyyuo
Viipw tn (hp nontrarv. upon the limited
sphere of his usefulness; Ever 'since he
could remember he had ornamented a sa
TTovmcr onlv; enioved that social
culture obtained in such places, it is not
Ilia knowledge -and stock -.of
wbrdsdid riot partake of drawing room.
refinement. This the boy did not know,
but he thought he would have just a little
fun. So he stuck his finger" between the
wires of the cage, hoping thereby to fngh-j
ten the bird. But the parrot didn't fngh;
ten worth a cent. He merely got off his
perch, took the finger in Ids mouth and
cave it a good tweak.
inh n . con of a eun ." cried the boy,
pulling away his bleeding finger and thrust
ing it into his mouiu. -
"There take, a joke," said the parrot,
gettiug back on his perch , ana resume
the thread qf his thought. : . -
- Good enough ior you, j
cai;" said a sympathetic paea-uy ,
had watchVd the whole broce. dbg, and been,
tiirtMl at the discomfiture and.
the parroee bad priUgmg P;. ,
, Frar Itllfc's Old Ae. ,
As Benjamin Franklin grew' old, he did
riot e-row less wflliriar to continue' that ex-f
- . - CD r ,
ertion of the energies Whichhim ea
happiness. : At the age of 70 he : accepted
the dangerous and delicate .mission to
France. "I am," he told the Congress,
'but the fag-end; you may " have me :for
what you please.r 'At 'the agf of 79 he
still found enjoyment ;iu . the management
of affair-- Two years later at the age of 81,
in, the convention which met I in; 1787 to
frame the definite ccnstitution, he, though
opposed personally to the tystem of two
legislative houses, made the project prac
tically possible by his device' that all the
states should be represented 'equally in the
upper housd "and according to : population
in the lower house. If he ? sighed over
his toils at 79, it was',a sigh of . satisfaction
at the prospect of being harnessed in the
country's service for another year'' as pres
ident of Penn ylvania. My countrymen,
he wrote with manifest pleasure to a friend,
"engrossed the prime of my life. They
have eaten my flesh, and seem resolved
now to pick my bones." At the age ,of 83
he still composed poetry, not very good,
but n; t wjrse perl aps than that wlic he
was in the habit of writing 56 years before.
At tacked simultaneausly by gout, the stone,
and old aere, he comforted himself that
"only three incurable diseases had fallen
to his share, and that these had not deprived
him at the age of 81 of his natural cheer
fulness, his delight in books, and enjoy
ment of social conversation, " If obliged
by his three enemies to anticipate death,
he solaced himself by the ' thoughts of a
term of higher activity,; and therefore en
joyment, in another stage of existence. . He
begah to doubt whether the -building, his
body, did not need so many repairs that in
a little time the owner would "find it
cheaper to pull it down and build a new
one" He avowed a growing' curiosity to
be acquainted with some other world,"
and longed, "free from bodily embarrass
ments, to roam through some of the sys
tems Herschel has explored, conducted by
some old companions already acquainted
with them." Ilis only hesitation . atr the
age of 82 is whether it ,wrere not a pity to
quit this particular universe at a time of
extraordinary "improvements in philoso
phy, morals, politics, and even the con
veniences of common living, and the in
'vention and a q lisition of new'aud .useful
utensils and instruments.''! He whispers a
wish that the final advance hasbeei made
in the particular art of physic, that "we
might be able to avoid diseases and live as
long as the petriarchs in Genesis; to which
I suppose we should have little objection."
It was almost as well that, though in 1788
he heard rumors of John;, Fitch's' "boat
moved by a steam-engine rowing itself
against tide in our river," and though, he
appeared to think 'the" construction mignt
be simplified and improved so as to become
generally useful, " he 'could not foresee the
full application of the principle. It Would
have been to grievous to leave life on the
eve of such a revolution.
Salnlon Fishing Without Fly or Spear.
It is: well known to many sportsmen in
Massachusetts.that the southwest Mirami
chi, one of i the rivers of New Brunswick,
is famousfor its salmon and trout, though
neither are io abundant there now, as they
once were. Several years ago a party of
timber explorers, under the guidance of
the writer, ascended Rocky Brook, one of
the branches of the soutewest Lramichi,
to a point seventeen miles from its month.
A short walk brought us to Rocky Brook,
which is a rapid stream of clear sparkling
water about .forty feet Hvide and from six
inches to eight inches in depth, with here
arid there a deeper hole; the botr.om was
covered by a gravel composed of red gran-;
it'e pebbles; the banks near the shores were
fringed by bushes of aider, hazel and
'dwarf maple, 'varied occasionally by the
high bush, cranberry?, whose: bright red
berries formed an agrteable contrast to the
green of the .surrounding foliage. "We
viewed this tempting, iruit wim longing
with longing
eyes,-putoivsagarDag.wasio,ipwTO.aupw
Of our indulgi ng in the luxury of preserves;
we therefore contented urselves with a
few mouthfuls of the acid f hut; 1 By wa
ding up the brook for some ' distance, we
succeeded in securing about a dozen trout,
each about as long as one's finger. Dis
gusted at our luck, we had arrived nearly
at the foot of the falls formed by the wa
ter breaking through their fpeky barrier..
The gorge was, narrow, ann, : tne granite
hills rose up on either side to, the height of
many hundred feet, being in tie immediate-vicinity
of the brook in many .places
very precipitous. Th rough this gorge the
water dashed down a succession of narrow
faPs: at the foot of these was a tranquil
pool over which jutted out huge masses of
granite hollowed underneath by the joint
tion of time and and water, so that near
lv half of the pool lay partly concealed be-
math the project rgslef One of iry men
Wh rft on the ODoosite sideof the Drook,
Clambered down the steep hillside until he
was able to-peer into ine uiaca.u
of these silent ,pV)l?. Af.er lcoimg ftsadily
rif.thf.w Silent P
a 'few moments he quietly beckoned us to
come on, by his motions cautionmg us to
avoid making a noise. Obedient to bis re
quest we were soon betide him, and looking
under the rock saw what we supposed to
be about twenty grilse moving slowly
around; the water, due tome coior mi
lottoni, wa? darkly transparent, and the
fish appeared as if balanced in tne air,
camly iniilieret to suirjuuuiug wjv.,.
Now and then a fin or tail would move,
and occasionally one would very-slowly
and deliberately come to the top of the wa-
find for a moment, and then drop tranquil-
a ' hKmta mil iir tsu-- in tail a w -
. . f,mor t-kfisition amonir nis
, . t i, ..1. : ,1 o AlninlV
of
icuun' o ....
to hpld a consultation as
how
wecould capture the fish; One pi the party
havinz in' bis possession a ioiera. 6
StVf nrluded that he should lure one
I . - vii inn bv means oi this.
ot tnem to 2yrr here we touid
where we
'rue aeiezaw;. n"us
from oar-Place .bf tsoncealment
i-i Sll ''jV.itHj. li. U-
see ereryJ
V.
--f or such they;
Sffiti IuA-VaUv nftld little atten.
tion to It, one or two of them just moving
their, bodies as if to let.ua Jcnow that they
understood oiir game, and inform us that
they could not be taken in that way. Two
of us then arming ourselves with riolea
about ten foot long took our stand in' the
very shallowest Tpart of the brook, where
it rolled in a thin sheet over the, rsd gran
ite pebbles. The rest of-, the party who ;
had remained at the pool commenced
throwing targe 'stones into it in order to
drive the fish but. This howeyer, . had no
effectj the salmon only darting from one
part of the pool to another. So in re-;
sponse to my order three young fellowa wa- !
ded into the pool, and outVushed the aal.
mon from their cool retreat. .,, Some v fled
up-stream, the greater" part however,
down. The '. surveyor who accompanied
our party, and who was perched "on a. rock
overlooking the stream,, called out at the
top of his voice, There they are, Graham!
there they are Jack!" The reader may
have seen two men threshing grain, each
trying to out-do the other. . Let hiin Im
agine these two dressed as lumbermen
usually are in summer, .beating the .water
with all tlieir might, and he would have a
true picture of us. ' , .
atin.
The Obliging Young:
"Cars ready for Boston and the way sta
tions,'' .shouted the (conductor of a Railway
train, as the steam-horse, harnessed for his
twenty-mile trip, stood charing, panting,
snorting and coughing, throwing angry puffs
of mingled gray and murky vapor from his
sturdy lungs. "Cars ready for Boston and
way stations." . '
"Ob, yes 1" said a brisk young man, with
a bright eye, peculiar smirk-spotted neck
cloth and gray gaiters with pearl buttons.
"Cars ready for Boston and way stations.
All aboard, Now's your time. Quick, or
you'll lose 'em.v Now then, ma'am."
But, sir, " remonstrated the ' old ' lady
WnOJIl lie auuicsspcu, Aim nuuui uq it j U15-
ing on the steps of a first-class car.
"Oh, never mindj" said the brisk young
man. "Know what you're going to say
too much trouble, rand all that. . None whatj
ever. Perfect stranger ; true,but scriptu
ral injunction-'Dp as you'd be done by'
I'm with you. Ding 1 ding I There's the
bell, on we go."
And so indeed, they did go off, at forty "
miles an hour. r
"But, sir," said the old lady, trembling
Violently ; "I I wasn't going to Boston I"
: . ."He euce you wasn't. Well well,why
couldn't you say so ? Hello, conductor I stop
the caTs'l" ' '
"Can't do it," said the conductor. "This,
train don't stop short of Waburn watering
station."
'Waburn watering station ! Oh , wh at -ever,
shall I do?" whimpered the old wo
man, wringing her hands. i
"Sit still
; take it easy. No use crying
milk. What can't be cured,
for spilled
must be endured. I'll look for you sharp.
Might have saved yourself all this trouble.
Ha I there's a poor young fellow all alone. .
Love-sick, probably. . Pale cheek 1 Never
told his love, but let concealment. Shaks
pearei I'm his man. Must look out for '
the ! old "woman, though. Here we are,
ma'am. Fifteen miles to Lowell 1 Out '
with you ! Look out for cars on the back
track I Good bye I Pleasant trip I Here's ;
her ; bundle 1 Catch, . there ! Heads
Pleasant tripl!' '"' .,: ' "
'Confound it," roared a fat man, in a
blue spencer; "you're, treading on my
corns I .Where's my bundle brown paper
and f red j.tring Mt was here a moment
since l" ' ... ,
Thecpnductor knew nothing about it.
The obliging young man did. It was the
same i,he had thrown out after the old wo
man.'"11 ' ' ' '
"You'll find it somewhere," he said with
a' consoUns smile. "You can't lose a brown
- , ' y , tried-oceans of times.
trt-' brinff u Here's your
bundle, sir ; nine-pence, please. All nguu
Go ahead I" , v
" Herp the obliging youth took a seat be
side 'the pale-faced youth. ' .
. "Ill-health, sir VT
"No sir. " '
"Mental malady ? I see! heart from
heart forced to part; flinty-hearted father J
' "No sir." ' L
"Flinty-hearted aunt? Tell me alL Vm
a stranger I h ve to do good to others. "
The youth informed the obliging young
man that he was attached to a young lady
of Boston, whose aunt, acting as her guar
dian, opposed the suit. t
He was going to Boston to put a plan of
elopement intd operation. He had prepared
two letters-one to the aunt, renoundng
his hopes, to throw her off her guard; tbe
niraAv. appointing a meet
?the povidence -cars. The obliging
ft kaoA tr we that the missive
ereadehver6d7 and the two new friends
Drted in Boiton.
P2" Providence cars were just getting .
. -1 ...i, on o hark drove UD iun
aciy to aituL, " utu - -
Veiled l"ady descended and
gave her hand to her gallant adrmren
the station in Providence the lady lifted her
veil. Oh, horror ! It was the aunt.
"Yes, sir," said the aunt ; I am the per
son qualified in the letter, tote;
ir npir. as a 'hateful hag. What
do vou say to that ? . nmrm.
"Say? That I aludl leap over the para
pet of the next raUroad bridge and end I my
troubles in a watery grave. , But firstl
should like to find that obliging, young.
man.
.TTr vouarel" said
a familiar voice.
Aftr T'rf iriven the notes,
rnind. misgave
Krir trx iU house : auuv t
niece :
me ;
frtiiwl her : same in"".
hut
in ; tears,
. ' i - f r'mn ilinlT. E1TO IW"
' . " . ..n.ir
Pleasing i i,i-iin and this wa
' . '" .T.. rartv aaw of the
the laat tnai uj WJ "v 'J
obliging young man. "
A
thing that was done, clambered to the top
of an overhanging ; rockfhere concealed
irom view by stunted spruces, he dropped
th"p Hfirfarft of the rjool
V
j