E. L. 0. WAKD; Editor akd Proprietor. lf''":ir JijEho Organ io'tHe. Koanoie and Albemarle Sec tions
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VOL. III.
v-4
MURFREESBORO K C.-.THUHSDY. JUNE
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IRISH.S05G:
" -r r
oh 1 the .spring' delight ; j y ; .
Is the eowalip bright.' - S " , r
As she laughs to the warblin linnet ! u
On a whiJIay buhv:mr.
m a. s . a. " a- 4.' -
v. Summer she shows J$ "TJ C
V Her rose, her roee! ' s . .
. r And bh ! all the happy night long
- The nightingale woes her I , , 5- . r
At v'awn the lark sues her
; 'VlVid the crystal surprise of her song:
Sing Autumn's crown , f ,
Is the barley brown,. j ?
'J Bed bver wid rosy fruit ; -'"
And the yellow trees,
As they sigh in the breeze.". "
" Are the strings of his solemn lute.
f
Ould Winter's breath
la could as Death,
Wirra ! lonesome he's left the earth
Yet the thrush he eings
And the rose she springs
From the flame of his fairy hearth.
At The Top of a High Chimney.
When I was three-and-twenty I went
down tne country with the builder for
whom I worked, to carry out one of his
contracts. 1 While there I fell in love
with the prettiest girl I had ever seen.
She seemed so flattered with my atten
tions that I was full of hope, until an
old lover joined our force.
Then 1 found out my mistake, as
Mary at once gave me the cold shoul
der. My successful rival, Ben Lloyd,
and I were not, of course, the best of
friends ; still I bore him no illrwill,
and being of a cheery temper, soon got
the best of it, and in time we became
great cronies. ;
I went to his wedding and after that
often dropped into their neat little cot-
taze to see them, and got to look upon
Mary as a sort of sister. Ben had no
grounds for jealousy, though evil
tongues, I found, were busy.
The Contract was nearly up, when a
lightning-conductor upon one of the
highest chimneys over at Lianelly
sprang, and the owner of the works of
fered our master the job.
"It's just the sort of thing for you,
Harry," said Mr. when he told
us of it.
I touched my cap and accepted jit off
hand, and then Ben stepped up and
said he'd volunteer to be the second
man, two being required.
"All right," said the master, you
are the steadiest headed fellows I have.
The price is a good one, and every pen
ny of it shall be divided between you.
We'll not fix a day for the work, but
take the first calm morning."
So it was, that, some four or five
mornings after, we found ourselves at
the factory, all ready.
The kite by which the r line attached
to the block was to be "sent over the
chimney, was flown, and did its work
well; the rope which was to haul up
the. cradle was ready, and stepping in,
Ben and I began the ascent.
As we went up I saw crowds gather
to watch us.
"There are plenty of star-gazers,
Ben,' said 1, waving my cap to them.
4I dare say they'd like to see us come
down with a run." i .N
"Can't you k eep quiet ?" said Ben in
so strange a voice that I turned to look
at him. . ji
There he lay in a heap at the bottom
of the cradle, his eyes closed.
"You're not afraid," said I.
"What's that to you?"
"Xothibg; but if you don't get used
to the height you may get dizzy."
Then I saw we were going up too
fast. . x
They had not calculated right, and as
sure as death the cradle would strike
the coping, and if it did, death it would
be," for the rope would part.
; There was no chance of signaling. 1
told Ben our only hope. We must
swarm tip the rope to the chimney top
and let the cradle go its course.
We did so, and were scarcely landed
when the cradle struck,
j The' rope gave a shrill,' piercing
sound, like a rifle ball passing through
the air, and snapped. j
s Down went the eradle, and there we
were left, nearly three hundred feet in
the air, with nothing to Vest upon but
a coping eighteen inches1 wide. j
Ben shrieked out that he was a dead
man. j .' . -, ir .
"Hush lad!" 1 said, "don't lose
heart.1 Think of Mary, man, and keep
uP:."rp- j.'-j;. y j - -. ,
But he only shook and. swayed more
and; more, groaning- and crying out
that he was lost ; and I pould see that
if he did not mind he would over-bal-ance.j
n : r: i.
"Get hold of the rod,'? I said, think
ing that, even sprung as it was, the
touch1 of it would give him courage. .
"Where is It, boy?" he said, hoarse
ly, and then looking into hi face,
which waY turned to me, I saw that his
eyes were drawn together, squinting
and bloodsbdt, 'and knew that the
fright had driven him blind.5 T ? 1
- So, pushing myself to him, I placed
my arm around, his f waist, and worjted
aroundf tu the rod,kwhtchJl put inhi
hand ; and then I'lobked "lelow, to see
whether they were ;tryig - to ; help us,
but there was ho sign. The 'yard was
full of people, all running hither, and
thither; andas I afterward , knew, all
fn the greatest consternation; the cra
dle having fallen on one of the over
seers of the works, killing him on - the
spot, and so occupying the attention of
those near, that we were for the time
forgotten. - L
I was straining my eyes in hopes ef
seeing some effort . made to help- us,
when I was startled by a horrible yell,
and brought to a sense of a new danger
for, looking round. I saw Ben chain p
iug with his teeth, and foaming at the
mouth, and gesticulating in an un
earthly way. Fear had not only blind
ed him, but crazed his brain.
Scarcely had I time to comprehend
this, when he began edging his way
toward me, and every hair on my head
seemed to stand on end, as I moved
away, keeping as far off as I could, and
scarcely daring to breathe, lest he
should hear me, for see me he could
not that was my only consolation.
Once twice thrice he followed
me round the mouth of that horrible
chimney ; then, no j doubt thinking I
had fallen over, he gave up the search,
and began trying to get on his eet.
What could I now do to save his life?
To touch him was- certain death to
myself as well as him, for he would in
evitably seize me, and we should both
go over together. To let him stand up
was to witness his equally certain de
struction, j
I thought of poor Mary, and I re
membered that if he died, she might
get to care for me. jThe devil put that
thought in my mind, I suppose, but,
thank God, there was a stronger spirit
than Satan near, and at the risk of my
life, I roared out :
"Sit still, or you will fall, Ben
Lloyd!" I
He crouched down and held on with
clinched teeth, and shivering and
shaking. In after-days, he told me
that he thought that it was my spirit
sent to warn and save him.
"Sit still !" I repeated from time to
time, watching with aching eyes and
brain for some sigh of aid.
Each minute seemed to be an hour.
My lips grew dry, my tongue literally
clove to my mouth, and the perspira
tion running down nearly blinded me.
At last! at last hope came. The crowd
began to gather in the yard, people
were running in from distant lanes,
and a sea of faces were turned upward ;
then some one who had got a speaking
trumpet shouted : ;
"Keep heart, boys, we'll save you !"
A few minutes more'and a kite began
to rise. Up it came, nearer and nearer,
guided by the skillful flyer. The slack
rope crossed chimney, and we were
saved. j
Bei, obeying my order, got into the
cradle. I followed ; but no sooner did
I touch him than he began to try to get
out. i I got hold of
in his head that I
throw him over,
him, and taking it
was attempting to
he struggled and
fought like the madman he was, grap
pling, tearing with his teeth, shouting,
shrieking, and praying all the way
down, while the cradle strained and
cracked, swinging to and fro like the
pendulum of a clock. ' ,
As we came near the ground I could
hear the roar of voices, and an occa
sional cheer; then: suddenly all was si
lent, for they had heard Ben's cries,
and when the cradle touched the ground
scarcely a man dare look in. The first
who did saw a horrible sight, for, ex
hausted by tne struggle and excitement,
so soon as the cradle stopped, I had
fainted, and Ben, feeling my hands re
lax, had fastened his teeth in my neck.
No wonder the men fell back with
blanched faces; they saw that Ben was
crazed, but they thought that he had
killed me, for, as they said, he was
actually worrying me like a dog.
At last the master got to us, and
pulled Ben off me. I soon came round,
but it was a long time before he got
well j poor fellow; and when he did
come out of the asylum, he was never
fit for his old trade again, so he and
Mary went out to Australia, and the
last I heard of them was that Ben had
got a couple of thousand sheep, and was
doing capitally, j
I gave up the trade, too, soon after,
finding that I gotj queer in the head
when I tried to face a height. So, that
morning's work changed two men's
lives. H.M . : I"
As long as lovel prevails in a house,
space of the breadth of a sword i s satis
factory ; as soon as it disappears, sixty -hand-breadths
are not sufficient.
Men are ofteu capable of greater
thiDgs than they -perform. They, are
sent into the world with bills of credit,
and seldom draw to their full extent.
The vicious, notwithstanding the
sweetness of. their words, and the
honey of their tongues, have a whole
storehouse of; poison within their
hearts." " ' :'' , w -. r
j xne Last Sige of Gibraltar.
The most
memorable,
in
some re-
specLs, ui an tne fourteen sieges to
which Gibraltar has been subjected,
was.the last, called the "great siege,"
one of the mighty struggles of history,
which began ii the year 1779. The fa
nipiis General Elliott was commander
Of the fortress, j Spain, in alliance with
France and JkJjorocco,5 endeavored to
surprise Gibraltar, but a Swedish ship
gave Elliott the alarm. The garrison
comprised but five companies of artil
lery, and the whole force jwas less than
live thousand five hundred men. The
enemy'e.force was fourteen thousand.
The sife begah by the blockading of
the port, and aj camp was formed at
San Eoque witi the design of starving
out the garrison, Wheii the English
Governor resoljjred to open the upon his
besiegers, a lady in the garrison fired
the first shot, j Never did a siege of
war wage morel furiously, than, did this
for nearly thre years. jThe garrison
was often reduced to sore straits for,
food; "agoosejwas worth a guinea,"
and Elliott triefl upon himself the expe
riment o lividg upon four ounces of
rice a da j for a week. Exciting sto
ries are told of Jthe privateers that ran
in, amidst terrible dangers with provi-
sions, and of the storms
welcome woodland cork
which threw
within reach
i at one time
of the besieged i The roc
would surely hjave been taken, had it
not been for (Admiral Rodney, who,
sailing off the Strait, captured a small
fleet of Spanish war ships, and mer
chantmen, andj clearing j the strait of
besiegers, brought his prizes into port.
But all danger was not yet averted;
Gibraltar was again blockaded; scurvy
broke out in the garrison, and Morocco
refused her harbors to English ships.
The enemy crept closer and closer to
the fortress, but relief coming every
now and then,! enabled the English to
still hold out. The bombardments
were fearful to" endure. The city was
almost destroyed; scarcely a house
habitable, and j those left standing pier
ced by shot and shell. At one time
the desperate garrison fell to plunder
ing the town: Elliott -shot the leaders
in this outrage. The long agony, full
of terrific cornbat3 and frightful priva
tions, ended by the final abandonment
of the siege early in 1783. If in that
year the English had tq make up their
minds that they must let go their Ameri
can colonies, fhey had at least the con
solation that Gibraltar was still theirs.
A Driver's TbrHling Story
"Isn't it a riither ticklish place to go
at such a gaitf?" I said to the driver,
by whose sidl sat, as he rounded, at a
smart trot, a sharp curve of the narrow
inpuntain road, on one side of which
rose a wall of rock, and on the other
yawned a deep precipice, leaving scarce
a foot of margin between; the edge and
the outer wheel-tracks, j
"Not a bit of danger, sir," the driver
answered, .",1've druv the mail on this
route nigh onto seveii year, and never
had an accident that is, never but
once. Get. up, there, Pete!" to the
right leader,! with a crack of the the
whip by way of emphasis-p-"git up there
and don't go pokin' along like that, set
tin' a bad example to the rest."
Pete acknowledged the rebuke by
pricking ujS Ijis ears and setting off at a
pace, joined in by his fellows, several
degrees brisker than before.
"So you did meet with an accident
once?" I said, resuming! the dialogue
which Pete's delinquency had inter
rupted. v I
"Well, it ain't hardly fair to call it
an accidentj neither," returned the
driver, flicking a fly from the off-wheeler's
rump without disturbing a hair;
"but I'll tell you the story if you'd like
to hear it." j
Nothing, I assured him, would give
me more pleasure.
"It was when I was new on the road,
you see," he began. fAt that time
there wasn'tia house within miles of
here; and sometimes I wouldn't have
a passenger,! in aweekj but I had to
come through every dayjall the same,
and loriesomit was sometimes.'' '
"I'd got asjfur as Sim Surlcy?s tav
ern one day without taking up a soul.
It was drawin' toward sundown, and I
was makin' up my mind to a long night's
ride, all by myself, when a couple pf
strangers stepped up! and booked
themselves as passengers. J
"After takin' a smack and changing
hosses, 1 started pn, the two passengers
takin' inside seats.
- "Pretty soon one of
rem called out
and asked if he mightn't
come out and
ride with me.
"I told hife- he might, and welcome.
The fact is Ij was begin nin' to long for
a (good sociable chat with somebody,
Hosses is is ood enough company as a
gen'ral thing; but they don't keep up
their end o' conversation, and that
makes theiHsociety a little dull some-;
times, j ..:,.j!:f ,., :; , 'rr. .
"I Stopped and let the stranger up
beside me. jit was a bright mxonlight
nighty and the stranger made some fine
remarks about it, which. I didn't. quite
understand. rand which sounded as if
9
they'd come out Pf a book. Howsever,
I agreed that it was a better style o
night to be out in than some I'd seen,
when you couldnt see your hand afore
you, and had to tf-ust your neck to the
Judgment of the leaders,
r "The gentleman made himself so
agreeable that I Was quite put out when
he told merlhat him and his friend was
goin to leave thej coach at a p'int where
another road struck off some miles
ahead. : j 5 1. v':
'Igot so busy talkin' that I noticed
nothin' else, till I heard a queer sort o'
scrapin' noise down back o' the seat.
jI wonder what's that ?" says I.
What?" says the stranger.
i'That noise," iavs I, "it sounds like
somethiii gnawin' into the front, tx
The mail's in there and I must
boot.
see
what's wrong."
! was on the
stopjsin' and
p'int o
jumpin' down, when the stranger
ketcherJ holt o' my arm, and p'inted a
pistol at my head. ' j
1'Drive on and make no disturbance,"
he; said, "or I'll Jill you.11
rThere was a ijolster, with a pistol in
it, at the side o' the seat, but the man
was between me and it. It wjas plain
that I was at the mercy of a couple of
mail robbers, anc could do nothin' but
submit. j -:,
fit had been there plan, no doubt, for
the man inside, vrhile his comrade kep'
me in chat, to cut through; tp the
mail bag, rip it open, take outJ the let
ters, and then the two, was to quit the
coach at the p'iijt mentioned lea viii'
me to go none the wiser. i !
f'l seen through it all, but druv on
and said nothin. 'j i
I While turninj thj bend where you
got a little naryoUs just now, a!; thought
come to me sudden. j
"Quick as lighthin' I whirled
the
leaders with their heads to
and with a cut of the whip
the brink,
sent them
over. j
I jumped from the seat barely in
time to keep from going along, and hos
ses, coach and thieves all went crash
ing down the steep together.
j"I went afoot jto the nearest settle
ment, and got ome men to go.back
with me with lights.
j"By a roundabout way we got down
into the gulch, where we found the
two robbers crushed and disabled, but
alive, and the wreck of the coach with
the dead hosses.
Poor critters! I was
sorry for their fate, but I. had no time
to think o' that when I druv them over.
j ' We found where the thief had made
his way into thelboot by borin' out a
niece with a centre-bit. That was the
noise I'd heard.
The mail bag had a
letters were all , safe.
slit in it, but the
Illearnt afterwards that one of 'em had
a-heap o' money
in it and the man it
belonged to made me a nice present the
next Christmas.
as they got well
now sarvin' out
enough, and they're
heii time."
Speak Gently.
! A loud boisterpus tone shows a want
of good breedingl The first jprihciple
of politeness is tp make those about you
feel pleasant, and a rude, coarse man
ner of speaking j is annoying to most
persons. A good anecdote is related of
a! man, who went by. the pame of
j Whispering Jolin," which was given,
him in ridicule. I People said he talked
as though he were brought up in a
mill. One cold morning he Syalked into
si public house, and called out in his
thundering voice : f ; j
l Good morning, landlord, how are
you?" V . . '
j Very well, he w are you ?"
j Oh, I'm well, but I'm so cold, I can
hardly talk." j f
I Just then a nervous traveler who was
present ran up to the landlord,exclaira-ing:-
. ; ' . ' ' ;
"Please have my horse brought as
soon as possible'
j "Why, what is the matter?" asked
the landlord.
Nothing,"
,only 1 want to
man thaws.11 ;
i-eplied the traveler,
get away belore that
Salt Hirer, Arizona.
' 14 I - jj
j It was long supposed that the brack-
jshness pf Salt River, Arizona, vcas
caused by the: stream running over a
bed of salt some where along its course.;
Its waters arc pure and fresh from
where it heads i n the White Mountains
to within fifty miles of where it empties
into the Gila. Fifty miles from its
junction with the Gila there comes into
it a stream of water that is intensely
salt. This stream pours out of the side
of a large mountain, and is from twenty
to thirty feet deep. It is very rapid,
and pours into the Salt River a great
volume of water. Here could be easily.
manufactured sufficient salt to supply
:the markets of the world. All that
would be necessary would, be to dig
ditches and lead the brine to basins In
the nearest deserts. The heat of the
sun would make the salt. .?Were, there
a railroad near the stream its waters
would doubtless soon be turned and led
to immense evaporating pondsv Ifc Is"
; supposed that the interior of the moun
tain, out of which the stream nows, is
largely composea of rock salt.
Th Story of May-Day.
lA-iaa, children ! the world is growing
old. I Not that dear old Mother Earth
hegir s to show her six thousand (more
or less) years, by stiff joints and clumsy
movements, ty clinging to her winter's
rest And J herj. warm coverlet of snow,
forgejttihg to. push up the blue-eyed
Violeja in the spring, or neglecting to
Unpack her Ifresh green robes of the
troes j No,! indeed 1 , The blessed mother
spins around the sun as she did In her
first ; rear, i ihe rises from her winter
sleep fresh aind young as ever. Every
pewj violet Is as exquisitely tinted, as
swee ly scented,' as its predecessors of
a thousand years ago. Each new ma
ple leaf opens asdelicate and lovely as
the first one j that ever came out. of he
tightly packed bud in the Spring,
Mbther Nature never grows old.1
J But the human race changes in The
Samel way that each one of us does. The
race: had its childhood when men and
women played the gams that are now
e:p you! youngsters. We can even
se 3. the change in out owiii day. Some
of ; us whe , arc not grandmothers,
ei: her, can remember when youths of
fourteen ar d .fifteen played games
w lich, nowadays, an unfortunate dam
sel of six y jars ruffled, embroidered,
ar d white-g wned, with delicate shoes,
ar.d j hips ir the vice-like grasp of a
modern sasl feels are altogether tod
youh'g for h jr. Well, well ! What do
youjkuppos! our great, grandchildren
will jlo? j. j . . ':.'
i When the Romans came l to Britain to
li rp, many hundred yeatrs ago, they
brought of jourse, their own customs
and -festival 1. amonsr which was one in
jnempry pf Flora, the Goddess of Flow-
L'.' :' 1 , ' I . ' h
ers. rine neatnens our ancestors, you
kno
ow adopted them with delight, be-
1
ng in the jchildhood of
their race.
hey became very popular; and when,
some years! later, a good priest, ure-
gory, came (from Rome also) to convert
tie j natives, he wisely j took advan
tage of thei fondness for' festivals, and
jnjt trying tp suppress them, he simply
.alterpd them from heathen feasts to
Christian games, by substituting the
'names of saints and martyrs for heathen
gds anct goiidesses. Thus the Floralia
became May-day celebration, and lost
none of its popularity by; the change.
0;h the contrary, it was carried on 'all
oyerl England for ages, till its origin
would have Deen lost out xor a iew
pkins-taking old writers; who "made
nbtes" of everything.
The Florklia
we care inotning ior.
bbt!
thei May-day games have lasted
nearly to our dav. and some relics of. it
stilljijiryive in our young country.
n you icrown a jviay queen, or go
w ith a May party, you are simply fol
lowing a custom that the Romans began
ahdlthai oiir remote ancestors in Eng
lahc( carried to such lengths, that not
only ordinary people, but lords and la-
diefy j and even king . and queen laid
aplde their estate and went " a-Maying"
ejarly in tile' morning, to wash their
faces' In May dew, and bring home
fpeih boughs aud flowers to deck the
Ma-pole, jwhich reared its ' flowery
crown in every village.
IIoney-Dw.
Honey-dfiw is produced by the exu
dation pf saccharine matter from the
leaves of trees and. plants. It is the
same substance that is found In the
flower. : When the tree Is in a yery
growing state, more saccharine matter
is: produced than is necessary for jthe
health of the plant, or tree, and it is
thrpwn off! through the pores
of the
leaves, j Exposed to atmospheric action
the moisture is evaporated, leaving
glistening upon the surface of j the
leajtes the substance we call honey-de w.
This strange substance is most gen-
rail v found on the leaves of the hickory
ree1, it U found on the leaves of some
ther trees; not on the leaves of all
nds of trees, however. It Is usually
ound, in the lower South at two sea
ons of the year; in the sprijng, when
he! lcaveslare full grown, and during
ujj spring rains and in the fall, after
:he( commencement of our fall rains,
md the trees take a second growth.
During the summer of 'C2, from March
to August! no rain fell in Texas. All
Vegetation topk a second growth, and
honey-dew .was ; to abundant that it
dripped from the hickory trees. Those
ofins who haye noticed these things can
generally tell when honey-dew will
appear, and in what qnantities. If the
season is tery favorable for vegetation,
acid the growth yery rapid, honey-dew
will certainly appear In profusion. It
never appears in the season when vege
tation is in a suspended state. In the
winter; of (1872, honey-dew was abun
dant oh the pine trees, most of the win
ter J It was open winter, and season of
growth for the pine-trees. Bees gath
ered honey all winter, of a light, thick
characterfatid which candied very rap
idly. .They gather honey very rapidly,
when i hney-dew is on the : leaves.
Honey-deW from different trees 13 of
different color and consistency. That
from thebaic Is 'dark and thick, while
thit froni the hickory is lighter and
th
nner,,
i