DGE BLADE.
1 X"
J. H. HALLYBURT91T, Editor.androprietOT, i
MORGANTQN; : N. rC., SATUEDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 18S0.
VOL. IV. NO. 51.
1
::"'7 ' i-.
t r.
.t,'
.Ikwnrttr(raktwoMfthrawBm '
Two eyee u iwert and daw " 1
A mi danced with gar eurprhn' i i
Ormelfed withatear; . '
la whoaa fur rayi a heart atar buk
. Their itaadowednnaBL ,
But, MtUe maid, you must not ask
WhaatnUajgralMW. k,nJk
leaved affair tone, I
Iik taookLH ta the Jni,
That stag to Mean itself aloe
. AUUieeW-wirUtBiie;
Whoee mask haunta the Hatenar'e
AiidwlHttlesTHIra
Bat I (hall nerer tell 70a dev.
. 1 Wheee accent the; say be. ;
I fawn a (olden-hearted aaalda i
- For whom I bnilt a ahrbw
A leefr Booh of murmnmiM hiW ' - '
-. Voepla thk heart of mine; : '
Aad la tbateaha aad eold nee -To
mako bar home ahe eame
But. Oh I you'd norer, Meet auam " !
That tittle auideu'a aame.
a'
THREE SCENES.
. it - wh the polert, iciest morning
; there had been in November. Ail
.t 'wTer .tfc "brown fields shone the frost;
,Mit little ponds were skimmed over with
a glittering film; in the gardens, the
vines, long since dead, shone with the
cold smile of coming winter.
But, withal, it was a bright, shining
morning, and the smoke from the chim
nev lay in the air, soft and beautif nl.
The sharp ring of an ax sounded regu
. larlv from the barn-yard. It was
wielded by a boy of thirteen perhaps,
but small for that age. His jacket was
buttoned closely around him; his cap
pressed down upon his curly hair; and
his cheeks glowed with the frosty air
and the exercise.
He had been cutting wood an honr;
meanwhile, in the house had arrived a
little girl, brought there by the over
seer of the poor. She stood timidly at
one side of the grate fire, the blaze
warming her chilled Jimba. She hugged
an old cloak tightly about her, and re
plied in. a low voice, to the kind ques
tions asked her by the farmei's wife,
Mrs.Wyllis. .
The good woman was questioning her
pretty closely as to who her parents
were, and especially her father's name,
and why she had been left in the por-
master's charge ; which the poor; hiv
ering child seemed evidently desirous to
void answering.
" Seems to me," said a voice by the
, dorjr behind Mrs. Wyllls, " if I was you,
mother, I wouldn't ask her anything
more about her father."
Marjory cast a look of thankfulness
toward the speaker, who had come in
unnoticed, and who was the boy who
had been chopping wood.
" You needn't interrupt me, Fred,"
said his mother. "Of course 1 want
to know all I can about her parent.
But I'll leave it till she has taken of
her things." And then turning to the
girl she said :
" Well. I think you'll be a very good
little girl ; and I'll take you up-stairs to
the room you'll sleep in ; then you may
come down and help me."
And Mrs. . Wylljs led her off, and
shortly returned without her.
Fred sat by the fire, his cap thrown
off, his chin on his hand. He remained
thoughtful a few minutes, then lifting
his head, he said:
" What did she say her name was,
mother!"
"Quite a romantic name Marjory
Bt. James."
" Who do you suppose she is, any
way?" Marjory, softly coming along the other
room, whose door was half open, heard
aer name, and involuntarily paused.
" I am sure I don't know," Mrs.
Wyllis replied. "1 shall try to send
her to school this winter; you must be
kind to her, Fred, and treat her well."
" Treat her well 1 Of course I shall.
I declare, she's got about the homeliest
phis I ever saw "
; "Hushl" said his mother, looking
with' illconcealed pride at the hand
some face of her boy. " You shonldn't
talk so."
The boy took up his cap and -went
back to his chopping, while the girl in
the other room stood still for a moment
with a flushed face and strangely bright
eyes; then she eame quietly into the
kitchen and began washing dishes.
Fred had every inclination to be kind
and on intimate terms with the new
comer. King he was, but. it did not
seem possible to be very intimate with
the poor-house girl. Fred decided in his
own. mind that she was the proudest
piece he ever saw, and he was very much
provoked with himself that he could '
not help liking her, for she certainly
appeared to care very little for him.
And so things went on until ope day,
after she had been at the farm about two
months, there happened an incident
which effectually broke down the re
serve the child had striven to maintain.
It was a warm, thawy day in January,
Fred had been out in the meadow half a
mile below the house all the morning,
when his mother experienced an imper
ative desire that he should return to cut
up a pile of oven wood. Mrs. Wyllls di
rected Marjorty to run down and call
himrand bring him back directly.
. Marjority walked sedately along the
path, through the woods that separted
the house from the meadow; and on the
border of the low land, ahe paused and
looked around for Fred. She could not
see him, but she saw the prints of his
boots in the soft watery biiow. There
was but little snow among the trees,
but she saw the gleam of black pools of
water.
She plunged into the gloom, at first
fol'owing Fred's footsteps, which she
could faintly discern, but soon she lost
them, and could not find them again
until, finally, she broke through a tangle
of borse-briers upon the bank, of a little
pond, in whose aark, stagnant waters
ahe saw the boy for whom she had been
sent, his head thrown .back, his hands
holding fast to a floating log of half-de
cayed wood, tnat oareiy ep. mm up,
M.rfnrr. stood for one moment re-
I covering her breath, and trying to de
cide upon what to do. Fred looked in
- alienee at her, an instinct telling him
w .h. would do the best thine. bh
-i..irl W hands, and cried:
7 -411 owt a lone Dole and reach it
" and turned to find it, while
- Fred said'despondingly-. -
Too are not strong enough.
XH WW , - . J ...
cular, and seemed now endowed with
i iupernunin strength. With much
i TAinfulmtneuTeringonthepartofboth,
Fred had grasped the pole and was
drawted to the shore. Overcome by ex
haustion, the boy aank down at her
... xi. - lltft arm war mns
feet. And" A TAW lllwnnnsalxl J.
caped her eyesaa she b ok his head uport
her arm; and he felt an almost uncon
trollable desire to kiss her; but he re
frained, feeling rathlr doubtful a to
how she woutd take it, besides the fear
of compromUing hi boyish dignity.
sooner than he would have Lked. she
Urted up. to ..go home, aiteaaJain
to start .with, iet.heyipWnre? on
briskly for1 half aft boSr; iie W wet
; clothe. -wleaminir witk:Jiij exercise;
j'f'rn 'ifvV'-'r 'tit---
When JraddenryT wftfra-eryi !hm face,
.he exclaimed: Kariorv, I don't know
WrllIatfktf0jrj ,
Itwaatrue. Years af ter, when Tlar
iory was gone, Fred Wyllls recalled with
an aching -regret, despite ita miseries,
that long - night's wandering in the
wood, when he supported Marjorjf who
persisted in- bravely .denying' that she
was tired ; and when, in the pray win
try dawn, they came out upon a high
way, five miles frem home, and plodded
niWArd. kil faaiuui Aik them up jn
hiseart and carried ihefli home to the
distracted parents.
It was the little garden ef the farm
house, but now over its gaudy, blooming
flowers was pouring the golden light of
a Bummer moon. Years had seemed to
tell nothing upon the elm, now whisper
ing leafily in that warm air. Looking
for the girl who came shivering in rags
years ago at that house door, we saw her
leaning over the swinging wooden gate,
a -flickering shade darkening the too
dakk face, for Marjory St. James can
never be beautiful. But she had devel
oped a talent for vocal music which was
truly marvelous.
11 Have you indeed decided to got"
had just asked the man by her side,
bending a handsome blonde head dowra
to his companion, and speaking with an
intensity of tone that seemed unneces
sary with such words.
"Irrevocably. I would not mias sing
ing with such surroundings. It has been
my wish too long to forego it now."
She spoke with an earnestness so sin
cere as in some way to irritate her com
panion. " You speak that ' irrevocably' ia a
way that wounds me," said Fred. " As
you say that, I feel a foreboding that you
will never return to us."
Marjory smiled bitterly, as one who
piavs witn ner Happiness.
i! And in that case?" si
she said, inter-
'rogafcively.
" In that case, Marjory, I .shall be ut
terly miserable," said the young man
with Hidden energy
Marjory drew back with quick cold
ness, saying, I did not mean to provoke
any such ohrase."
"Oh, no; Lam well aware of that,"
he said ; " you repel me to every possi
bly way. But be ice to me, if you will!"
he cried, passionately, seizing her hand
and holding it to his fast-throbbing
heart; "I will risk my happiness to
night in telling you that I love you
love you I Oh, it is an old feeling, but
it moves me strangely iu the telling of
He paused, with such a sound of emo
tion in His votce as told even more tlian 1
hia words.
Marjory stood very still. Could he
feetthe hand grow cold ia his clasp?
Until at last, gathering strength, she
said, and that it cost her an effort lie
could see : " Channel a new course for
your love, Fred. You know what your
mother? thinks of a clouded, perlkps a
dishonorable birth ; mine is suchvancl
I am very proud; prouder, I think,
than your mother even, so that I could
never be her daughter.. Have I not
many times heard her say she would
thinr ouly one thing indispensable for
her son's wife an honest parentage?"
Tho silence, that fell upon the two
after those words was more drear than
anything Fred had ever known; yet he
diu not really believe but that he could
change that determination, only let him
gai n ono aHtUTance of her love.
" You do not love," he said, "or you
would not let a prejudice of my mother's
weigh-more than, my happiness. Only
say "to me that you can never love me,
and I will never thus offend you more."
He held both her hands now, and the
clasp seemed as though it would hold
her to him forever ; but an indomitable
nriA aiiiitairiA1 as a a una oa!l istilir
with tones that belied the feelings of
her heart:
It is enough for a gentleman to know
that I will not marry him."
And so they parted, never to meet
but onco again.
Years passed. Winter had far ad
vanced ; tne night was filled with starry
Irostiness. The cayesf, the most brilliant
of audiences was listening to tlje ex-
3uisite "Sonnambula" of Miss St.
ames. As the last strain' Darted her
lips in that living melody which so
thrilled the hearts of her hearers, the
eyes of the singer saw bending eagerly
lorward the tawny, leonine neau, mo
bright face, the memory of which had
never for a moment left her.
The curtain fell between her and the
deep glance of those blue eyes, but she
beard not the tempest 01 piauaiw. cne
hurried to her dressing-room, saying to
herself, " He will come round to see
me."
But only her attendant came to con
duct her to her carriage. Holding her
furs fast about her, she paused one mo
ment at the carriage-steps, a swift leap
af her heart telling -that a figure under
distant lieht was that of him sne
expected ; but it moved away, and with
a bitter contempt for her own weakness,
she entered the carriace, and strove to
talk interestedly with her maid.
Ihe sunderEpeahntr forth ol hre bells
sounded in ubon the even roll of their
carriage, and eeversl enpines dashed
pat tlieu and then, the carriage
wnined into a cross street, and came
full upon the burning building, from
whose roof long tongues of flames were
springinc.
All at once there rose the cry a child
was within the building, up above
where no one could .reach him. Even
the intrepid firemen hesitated and held
back. Marjory had become intensely
interested. Her lips parted with her
quice Dreatbs, Her face glowing.
As she looked, a little, slendor fiirure
sprang up the ladder that rested against
the chamber-window. In that first
glance at that face and form enshrined
in that firery glory Marjory recognixed
rrea wyuuv.
She saw him reappear at the window
with the child in his arms. He de
scended the ladder, apparently with
great difficulty. As he stopped uron
the ground the child was snatched from
his arms by the father, and the girl saw
the rrave figure reel and fall, and the
crowd bustle round him.
With frenzied heart she ran to his
side.
The people gave way before this
woman, who seemed to come with au
thority, and the whisper ran among
them :
" It is Marjory St. James:''
They had rarrloH Fntd WvTtu . iui.il
apart and ha was lying on a lounge, one
of the fnjuiv!ruMAe Af fnmifi,.. - .
. , , 4 , z - .u.mvuiD to
te red about.-1 i . z - - iwv,.;t r . ?
He ; murmured "Marjory," aan
dreams he had done so many times, but
now it waa iMarinrw hrtu1f !
"Only live," she said ore his lips,
.breath, fbr the first time sine,
childeood, toachinf them in a caress.
"Live, when I tell you I love yon, even
as you would lave mS.' -.
- The Intense earnestness of her tone
Called a flush to her fan ,' T-To TV
her with all the fire of the gaze she re-
uicmusicu o well. .
. 'Gh. I will ki :L
the dearest fara tnhU hat. Knt
as he spoke, that heart throbbed ita last
j w uiBistram wnicn nai oeen txr
great for mortal to bear. ; ,
They who hear tha anmwaafut
trice, and wonder what her heart his
tory has been, cannot, jead 'la her Jace
kny hrttory of the one dream of love she
A 8A CHEISTHAS STOET.
Oawor uel Lltoi; Man-llleed for Rrrad
and IIutlr-Tti AOevtlnu Ktory Told by
'am Smith M Justice t'lauuaer In tna
JeflTeraoB Martlet Court.
jlw Tork Star. J
On ChristmaB Eve a man who rav
his name as James Smith was arrested
for breaking the window of John Flem
ing's plumbing shop, No. 26 West
Twenty-seventS street, and stealing
eight faucets and three waier filters,
worth $12. Joseph Murphy, an em
ploye of Flemming's, saw Smith bteai
.ne window with an oyster shell ana
take the property through the broken
pane, and tnen caused-his arre9i. Smith
was taken before Justice Flammer at
Jefferson Market Court, and the evi
dence was fo clear againHt him that the
magistrate hel4 him in $1,000
Smith is a mpn about forty years of
age. When he1 heard the decision of the
Court he wept like a child, and was
so overcome that he could not utter a
word for a few momenta. When he re
covered himself ho admitted that he
broke the window and took the articles,
and explained that his wife and child
were starving.! The thoroughly con
trite appearsncp of the prisoner caused
the magistrate to take more than a pass
ing interest in Ihis case, and believing
that he might: possibly be telling the
truth, he encouraged the man to tell hia
story: , ! .
''lam not a tramp, your Honor,"
began Smith, f I am not a criminal. I
have been a woikingman, and live in the
rear of of No. .1.72 Mulberry ptreet. I
am an American citizen, and worked as
a car-bnilder at the Hudson Kiver car
ihops. On account of sickness I left
the works aboujt a yeaf ago. Rheuma
tim set in, r.ivjl I lost the uae of n?y
right nrni, and for one month I w.u
unjer the treatment of Dr. Purccll, e
of tuo S.mitary Inspectors I was t:d
then that I coutd not live. My wife in
duced me to go to the Metropolitan
Throat Hospital in Nineteenth ftnet
e.rM TAir'i -aTCBwc, and after tfac
mouths' treatment I was cured.
" I had a little money saved when I
quit work, but that soon wasted away.
My wife worked at making straw hats
for a Mr. J. Sears, at his manufactory,
No. 196 Bleecker street She made $2 a
week, and sometimes $3 a week. My
money did notj last long, as the medi
cines were very expensive. I pawned
ajl my clothes to help to support my
wife and chi!d. I I tried to get work, but
failed. I carried ' baskets around", and,
by that means, collected a few pfnnies.
By and by my clothes became so shabby
and old that I eould cot go and uk em
ployment. Then my wife took sick by
working too hard. I have seen her sit
from 6 o'clock in the morning till C the
next morning to get as many hats done
as would bring in living wages. She at
last succumbed to the strain several
months ao; from a cold, it went to a
cough; then Undeveloped into consump
tion, and hhe began to break down." .My
little b.y is at: nome with his mother;
he works now and then caning ciiair
bottoms, makisg from seven to eitrht
cents a day. Many a day have my wife
and child passed without tasting a meal.
They have beeni starving bit by bit. A
few kind neighbors have from time to
time sent us parts of their meals and
crusts of Breads
" Christmas came, and the past nil
came before me. I thought of better
days. While these thoughts cunc to
my mind, starvation was stnrin me in
the face upon a Christm?.s mornihg. 1
grew desperate Food had been a
stranger to usj for days befoio, snd
Christmas had come and not a crust of
bread was iu thb house. My wife was
very ' sick and cy boy was crying for
bread. What was I to do? I had to
get food. I could not see my family
starve befere me. I had made up my
mind to do something. Before I left the
hour my wife begged me not to d'j any
thing wrong. My heart was full of
sadness. I
"I walked up Sixth avenue toward my
mother's house; ! her name I don't want
to mention, as she is very poor, and my
alaterr work hard for a living When I
reached Twenty-eeventhstreet it rained,
and I went under an awning to keep
dry. It was at! this time the thought
came to me of stealing. I took an oys
ter shell and brake one of the side win
dows of the store what kind of a store
I did not know. ! I then took put wnat I
could through the broken parte. When-'
I got the property I did not know what
to do with it. I know I shouM not have
done it, but I was almost mad at the
thought of my wife and child starving
at home ; sift was a good wife to me."
The man here sobbed violently. Jus
tice Flammer felt satisfied that he had
told a true story; but the evidence was
so conclusive that he was compelled to
hold him for trial in default Of $1,000.
Officer MeSalley, of the Court Squad,
was instructed- to visit the prisoner's
home. He did so, and found the poor
wife and child in a small room in the
rear of No. 175 Mulberry street, away
up on the fourth floor. The house was
reached through a long, narrow alley
way from Mulberry street. Ingide a
small room the sick, starving woman
was found by the officer. Her hus
band's story was fully corroborated. He
had, however, given a wrong name to
tne uourt, his real name being William
.Howard. Un the way from the house,
the officer met a member of the Society
' for Improving the Condition of the
Poor, to whom he told the story of How-
ard's poverty and disgrace. The mem
I ber called upon a grocervman near by
! and ordered $1.50 worth "of groceries to
: be furnished to Mrs." Howard. The
j statement of Officer McSalley was re
, duced to writing, and it was attached to
I the papers by Justice Flammer and sent
to the District Attorney's Office.
t Mrs. Howard was visited by a Slar
reporter yesterday. She was found
sated .beside A low fire with a little
boy at her knee. She looked pale and
careworn, and cduld hardly apeak load
enough to make herself heard. She said
she felt much better, however, since she
had been previded with1 ood. - Th
room showed evidence! of poverty and
neglect For the two days before the
food came the had had nothing to tat
" If I could get enough to eat." she said,
"Imight btaWe towork. Howard was
my second husband. . The boy iF-mj
son by bit first husband, whose n an
was Hendricks, an engineer, who died
in Mama. HowanL-had alwavs Vara
kind to me and loved mt oearly. Whea
I taw him rise up'ln the morning I was.
leariai tnac no was going to do sea
thing wrong, and I begged him not to
anything rashly.? Here the poor,
man rose to her feet, but was too
to walk across tha floor. "Oh, is?
au aaiuaa sue aana nacc on ner
m
nio Tlchfjorne Claimant In Prison
" Conrlct Lib, hj a Tlokat-of-Lam Mm."
The "Claimant" had left Dartmoot
for Portsmouth before my arrival at tiis
former place. I heard a good desl
about him, of course. He seems to hare
given an infinity of trouble. His ap
plications to address the Home SecnV
tary, and to have interviews with DV
rectors, Governor, doctor and priest
were incessant. He got admitted to thi
church choir for reasons he obtained
more comfortable seat, and he was e
eused from labor on Saturday morning
that he might attend practice. Tie
organist assured me that he had np
notion of singing, and that the noise hp
made was something between the chir?
of a crow and the croak of a raven, ft
was generally admitted by the more in
telligent prisoners who came in contact
with him that his habits and manners
were vulgar. He whs doing his best, by
the aid of French school-books furnished
him by the priest, to master the French
language; and he made all sorts of
promises to a prisoner who was in th
next cell to him, and who could speak
French, if he would aid him, but this
man told me thathe was very stupid at
it, and that his progress was very slow.
When the "Claimant" first went to;
Dartmoor he seems to have had a good
friend in the gentleman who was at that
time Governor of the prison. He was
extremely troublesony, constantly
breaking prison rules, and constantly
being reported for doing so; but bo
long as the Major remained in command
he was never punished, and when he
received visits from his friendi, Dr.
Kenealy and others, the visits took place,
contrary to regulations, in . the Gov
ernor's office, and extra time was allowed
him. The advent of Captain Harris as
Governor was a misfortune for Castro,
or Orton, or whoever he may be. I may
here take the opportunity of doing an
act of simple iustice to Captain Harris.
f ac quttc anre that if the ion or brother"
of the Secretary of State were a prisoner
under his control, he would be treated
with the same indulgence as every other
prisoner, and no more. The "Claimant"
when next he received a visit did bo
behind the bars, and within the time
specified by the rules.
When reported for insolence he waa
Bentenced to two days' bread and water,
and he got a second punishment for the
same offense and some others. By the
doctor's orders he, had eight ounces of
additional bread per day and eight
ounces of potatoes, and on meat and
soup days he had increased rations. I
presume his friend, Mr. Whalley, wor
ried the Home Secretary into having
him transferred to Portsmouth, where,
I am told, he is fetchiug a tolerably
easy " bagging." Perhaps the air there
is not so bracing, but at Dartmoor his
appetite was enormous. I know men
employed in the tailor's shop who did
not need all their food, and who gave
him some constantly; and the orderlies
who carried round the bread were in
the habit of yielding to his entreaties
to shy him a loaf, if a " good screw "
happened to be on duty. By the way,
a " good screw," among the prisoners,
means a man who does not do his duty.
I knew a little Irishman who told me
that one day he was able to give the
"Claimant" six six-ounce loaves, and
that he came very near getting three
days for his good nature. The big man
was very unpopular with some of his
neighbors, who say that he was a bad
sleeper, and used to puff, and blow, and
grunt and groan all through the small
hours. He was unpopular with the
warders, because it was with the
greatest difficulty he could be got to
scrub his cell, or keep his cell furniture
clean. But I won't say any more about
the fellow. I should-think. the world
has had enough of him in all conscience.
Is the Brain a Tltal Organ.
lNw lock Star.
The occurrence of the horrible acci
dent in Jersey City is another instan.
of the marvelous, and to the pop'
mind the receipt of such a woum
that received by the MacEvoy boy w
out immediate death is something
credible. It is stated that the boy's heai
fm in contact with a revolving circu
lar saw which cut through the skull and
severed a pood portion of the brain.
after which the boy survived nearly one
Week. Numerous examples have before
been reported which seem to show that
the brain may bear very eiM-nwyo in
jury sometime without any very serious
resulting effects. A case celebrated in
the annals of medical literature is that
of the Massachusetts laborer whose
brain was removed to a great extent by
a tamping iron blown out of the hole by
a premature blast. This iron was forced
completely through the head, and
though the man suffered serious symp
toms for a few weeks, he recovered com
pletely with nothing left hut a slight
change of temper, and died, twelve years
after of consumption. The skull is now
to be" found at the Massachusetts Gen
eral HospitoUn Boston, and contains two
very large holes.
Equally wonderful instances are re
ported, and, from an inspection of the
medical literature of the day, we are
forcibly reminded that certain parts of
the brain are comparatively insuscept
ible to modem, aye, sometimes even to
great injuries. The white matter, or
middle part of the brain, is occasionally
entirely destroyed, and no resulting
symptoms are expressed. . The esse i
different, however, with the gray mat
ter, which is the sensation, and cannot
bear the least violence without promptly
showina evil consequences.
A MAS need only correct himself
w ith the same rigor that he reprehends
ailiers and excuse others with the
snnie indulgence that he shows to him-stdf.
lhii la too badV" and the resume! iNVeanfou Js intimately connected
'W-if 'i'i -i -,TfyV V?5!11630901 t!w country."
. , ' Ptto 8t John'piXotdHid year ago, between War
talj bot I do not know how successfcl (wi?k and Valley Forge, a chareoal iron
will be, as I have only just made the I furnace was in operation. Itwaskuown
application."
4
mm m
4 1
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COL05LIX KELICS.
t
avatBttaaai-r
La Peaaaylraala.
r f 1 "ipu Moni
i Half a dozen of stalwart horses pulled
wagon into the yard of the Bush Hill
Iron Company, at Twentieth and But
Wnwood Streets, on a recent afternoon,
the wagou were four cannon. They
were
so red that at a distance they
Blight have been taran far mil. f
dor inspection proved, however, that
hfiaJ7 wire covered with a thick coat of
t; to thick, in fact, that im n;a
,ilJ have been .chipped out in some
m siu a penrnile. , Tha uawNbr
noticed these
cce did rrbt deign a second glance, but
. employes in tne yard eyed the ar
Ws with eonsiderable curiosity. Per
A i their breasts at the moment were
e.w
n
as Hhe " Potta" furnace, from the fact
that it was owned by a. family of that
name. Here the cannon was moulded
into farm,, and here they were lying in
1777, but a few days before the battle of
Brnndywine. General Anthony Wayne
was connected with the Potts family,
and fearing that the cannon might fall
into British hands, sent a request only a
day before that memorable battle that
they might be hid beyond the possibil
ity of discovery. How to comply with
this request Was a matter which much
puzzled the honest and patriotic Pottses.
Finally they hit upon a device. There
was a swamp in the meadows a short
distance away, and there it was deter
mined to inter the guns. Oxen were
procured, and the iron weapons were
dragged across the fields and allowed to
sink down deep in the mud. There they
were safe from being counted with the
British spoils.
Fot the last hundred years the Potts
family, one generation succeeding -
another, has remained on the homestead,
and the story of 'the buried cannon has
been handed down. In 1875 the idea of
recovering them occurred to the present
representatives of the race, and before
the year had closed the cannon were
ibove ground. One of the four was
in such a good state of preservation that
i six-pound charge of powder was fired
tut of it on the first day of the Centaur
tial year. Recently Mr. Potts con
nived the idea of selling the entire lot
v a furnace owner, and, in spite of the .
lemonstrances of his neighbors, who de- i
dared that it would be nothingness than,
acrilege to destroy such historic arti
cles, he carried out his idea,
j The cannon will be melted prepara
tory to being turned into rolling-mill
Machinery. They weigh about two toss
each, and are six feet in length, with a
diameter of eighteen inches at the butt
and Bix-inch bore. Each has the letters
"P. W. F." (Potts' Warwick Fur
aaee) ; but although originally cut very
deep, the let era aro almost obliterated
by decay of the material.
.1 he. .improvement of . tna art of. man,
ywtcturing weapons of war was strik
ingly illustrated at the yard when these
four Colonial engines were dumped be
side a couple of thirty-two pounders,
each ten feet long, of modern make.
The outside of these were jet black, and
tlmost as smooth as glass. They belong
to the now obsolete smoothbore pattern,
and came from Fert McHenry. The
two weigh 14,400 pounds. Near these
again were a dozen or more rusty old
guns, which came recently from Port
ugal as ballast for a ship laden with
cork. They are of about five-pound
caliber, and the scarcely decipherable
date" "1628" attests that they are two
aad a-half centuries old. In the shop,
en the other side of the street, were a
couple of smoothbore guns which did
food service on the Constitution during
er engagement with the Guerriere in
the war of 1812.
The business of melting down old
cannon for remanufacture into rolling
machinery, or of turning the arts of
war into arts of peace, is attaining large
dimensions at the Bush Hill works.
Ten! of thousands of tons ef iron have
been transformed in the same way. In
one single week 833 tons of old cannon
have been received at the yard from the
Government arsenals.
Hr. Jay Gould's Personal Habits.
Mr Gould's millions now crowd close
to those of Vanderbilt. He is a man of
finer textnre than the old Commodore's
ion. He doesn't run to fine horses,
co?tly stables and blooded steeds. At
night when he dismisses his operators
from the telegraph offices in his own
house in Fifth avenue, and enter up in
a little book the telegraphic reports of
the receipts of the various railroads
wich he owns, he does not go to a club
toacareuse, to a banquet, to steam up
wflh champagne, or to a theater; he re
tires to the recesses of a peaceful library,
and with his young eons about him,
ds the Latin classics, the world for-
ting, but not by the world forgot by
irge majority, ine next morning,
y, he has the telegraph doing light-
service, ana ne is seuuinp an eieu
hock throueh Wall street as soon as
bulls and the bears come into that
for pasture. Mr. Gould is a liberal
n, aitnougnwnen ne maces a Deques l
does not have the information writ-
in manifold and sent to all the news
era. The first news New York had
lis rift to the Memphis sufferers, of
M)0. came from Memphis, as did the
ts of the second eift of $5,000.
Mr. Gould beine a small man of little
physical powers, is naturally not dis
posed to put himself recklessly in the
way of the horns of the; bulls and the
claws of the bears. There are some men
in Wall street, as Mr. Gould has reason
to know, who wiBh to resent their losses
with their fists, and are disposed to fol
low Mai. Selover's example, and dispatch
him bodily down into a convenient area.
Accordingly, air. uouia seeps air uiuwj
guarded by a stout Irishman, who pre
vents the intrusion of visitors, and he
has usually a private way to get out
into the street. He has, too, il is said,
a big Italian bookkeeper who accompan
ies him on marry of his business trips
about town, and stands ready to protect
his millionaire employer.
Proper Level for a Woman's Eyes.
It may be, however, that the Italian
women are forever artlessly unconscious
of the lively admiration that follows
their sex everywhere in iiaiy, anu, re
ceiving in early girlhood their first lea
sops of social conduct from French
goVernesses, as nearly all Roman girls
do, carry French precepts with them all
through life. " Never look a man in
the face," said one of those governesses
to her pupils, " it U immodest Always
fix your attention on the third button
of his shirt boeom you may then be
sure you eyes are at the level most
proref for a woman's eyre te W
'lth natnntin firs far tha
W 1.
m mi
1
a
V
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nl
FOB THE TOUSG FOLKS.
One by one the church clocks of Konea
had struck six, and the nest of small,
dark streets behind the Sue Jeanne
d' Arc woke up into light and life. On
the fourth floor of one of the oldest and
narrowest houses a little girl had opened
a door, and went down the dark stair
case to the floor beneath. She had
scarcely reached the landing-place, when
a door opened, and an. old grey-haired
woman came out.
" Not now: not now. Benee " she said
in a low voice; thy mother has been
sleeping lor tne last Hour. Thou shaft
go i n and see her when she wakes."
The little girl looked up in sudden
terror.
'- Madame Bueil," she said in a whis
per, " is roy jaQother worse?"
" No, riot Vorse," said Madame Bueil,
"butglvhas not slept ail night, and
she hasoeen telling me that it ia thy
bTiiiday. Madam Haeil sat down n
Renee's room; her grey, hair was
smoothed back under her cap," and her
small pale face looked worn and troubled
as the light fell upon it. She drew
Benee towards her. " My poor child,"
she said, " hadit thou forgotten that it
is thy birthday T Thou art eleven to
day. Oh, if thou wert but older ! If I
were to die, Benee, what would become
of thy mother T She is not strong
enough to work for herself and for thee.
and thou art too young to earn bread
" Cannot I work as my mother works !"
asked Renee, anxiously. " Cannot I
made caps like those that she makes!"
" Thou art too youn to sit at needle
work all day long, and sometimes into
the night besides. If thou wert older
thou could'st go and teach, as thy mother
did."
" Her heart is breaking because she
cannot work for thee any longer," said
Madame Bueil. " She' does not like to
take the little food that I can give, her,
and if I die she will no longer have a
shelter."
"My mother has taught me to draw
and to do needlework," said Renee;
" and I have read, oh, so many books of
history! Why cannot I teach ?"
Madame Bueil got up from her chair
with a deep sigh, and went towards the
door. " Thou art too young," si e said ;
and she left the room as sadly as she had
entered it.
For three years Madame Jtueil had
exercised the most self-denying charity
and kindness towards Madame Barentin
and her little daughter. Madame
Barentin in her youth had lived in
wealthy families as a governess. She
had married an artist, who died sud
denly, leaving her with her child
dependent on her own exertions. Dur
ing several years she managed by ex
treme care and industry to support her
self by eiving lessons; out after a time
her health failed, and in the h 'pe that
by returning to her nal ive air she mieht
regain her strength Bhe found her way
back to France. Her father and mother
had died before she first went to Eng-
d, and the only remaining member of.
er family, Madame Bueil, was, like
herrelf, poor and a widow. Madame
-Rwoaty fcwirejver, did mncfi for her even
ia these days in the the way of sympathy
and kindness; and Madame Barentin
was glad to become the tenant of the
little room over Madame Jtueil's in
which lienee was now standing. At first
all went well. Madame ISarentin found
some pupils and as much needlework as
he could do ;.and she had the happiness
of seeing her child growing strong and
healthy. So long as she was able to
work they lived in some degree of com
fort Then a terrible change, came.
She could only exert herself after long
intervals of rest, and mother and child
became almost altogether dependent on
Madame Rueil.
One after another the church clocks
again struck the hour, and this time it
was eleven. Benee had her cup of
col!ee and a piece of bread. She bad
helped her mother to dress, and had
read to her as she lay on a little couch
in Madam Bueil's room, where she
slept now lest she should disturb her
child's sleep by her restlessness. Madame
Bueil was busy in the kitchen ; and now
that all the small household duties had
been performed, Benee put on her little
black fichu, that she might take home
some of her mother's work to a street
leading out of the lower end of the Bue
Jeanne d'Arc, close by the quay. ItWas
here at the hotels on the quay that the
English lived, and it was here she asked
for work. A woman with a kind face
came forward when she spoke, and
looked at her with a pitying smile, when
she said that she wanted work.
"What can you do?" she asked.
" I could teach a little," she said, "al
though I am small. My mother used to
teach. And I could take care of chil
dren younger than myself."
The kind-faced woman turned to one
in an inner room, and said : " This little
girl would have been the very person
the English lady wanujd last year to
play with her children. But such au
opportunity seldom happens here," ihe
said, turning again to Benee. " If you
were at Dieppe, where so many English
families stay during the bathing season,
you mirht very likely hear of eome one
who would have you for a time."
Madame Bueil listened to the plead
ing voice, but it roused no feeling of
hopefulness within her.
" Dieppe is f..rtv miles from Bouen,"
she said ; ' it is full of strangers, hurrv-
tng backward and forward. 1 hey would
never stop to notice thee. Think of it
no more. Thou art too young."
"Oh, Madan.e Bueil!'' cried Renee,
" let me go ' I could walk "all the way
in a week. Kind people will give; me
bread as I co throuz'a the villaees, and
perhaps they will let me sleep some
times in their cottages, and I would beg,
for my mother's sake I would beg by
the road rather than not reach Dieppe."
There was a long silence.
" Litten, Renee," sid Madame P.ueil ;
"in this wide world 1 have but eiaht
fr ir.o-eijrht francs, which must feed
n a'.i for neirly a week, and I know not
where to look for more. The railway to
D'epf-e would taVe it nearly all. I
woti'd help t!;eo if I could. Thou eest
thit it is not pos-iMe."
"Oh, let ire go, Madame Rueil!" cried
Bnee, falling at the old woman's feet
ard claspinj: her knees. "Something
tells me I shall find work; something
tells me mv mother will be well and
happy a? ain'if I can but pet there."
A;iin there was a long silence.
" Tl ou slialt have the n nney, Benee,"
said aiadame. Alien, ai
The quaint old sTeets were ongnt m i owner, in 1876 a tin box was fished
the early sunshine the next morning ! 0ut of the Seine containing more than
when Madame Bueil walked to the sta- j 600 letters addressed to divers persona
tion with Benee, and paid for ber rail- in Paris. The box set afloat miles
way ticket. They spoke but little by above Paris had .been hermetically
the way. . ' sealed, and was furnished With little)
During the long hours of the night ; metal sails, that it might catch the cui
Msdame Bneil had repented of her rent of the river at every point ; but it
promise to Benee, and reproached her- i had failed to achieve a successful voyage,
self for letting her go alone, and with- i Md laid at the river's bottom for years
out W mother's knowledge, on such s with its freight of letters for the besieged
hazardous journey. ; Parisians, tome of whom, however, had
"Auflray !" " Longuevillef" " 8fc Au j the gratification of receiving them five
bv&i" years data.
' " ..... . 1 !lill
The train, which was la fact, a
slow one, seemed to Benee to rush along
faster and faster as it got nearer Dieppe,
and she felt bewildered when it reached
the station ; but she had made np her
mind to find her way as auickly as pos
sible to the great hotels, as she had
done at Bouen.
It was well that the hotels were near,
for ahe saw nothing distinctly, as she
felt as if her strength would hardly (
tan ner there. A good-natured look
ing waiter was standing at the entrance
to one of them, and to him she ad
dressed herself, trying to keep her
voice from trembling, and framing her
questions as.her experience had taught
her the day before In Bouen.
" Were there any English ladies
in the hotel vhr. wanted a little jrirl to
speak Frenches ith their children 1"
The man-looked doubtfully at the lit
tle figure, shabbier still from her dusty
journey. Something In her voice and
speech itteresttd htm, aad he asJtedJiet.
'some questions about her home.
" An English family were staying
here last week," he said, " and asked us
to recommend somebody; they have
taken a house a mile out of the town,
and perhaps-they are engaged now. But
there they all areP he said; pointing to
a group of fair-haired children, who
were passing at the moment with their
mother and their nurses. " Wait
here a moment and I will speak to
them."
Benee watched him as he followed
Lhem. She saw that the children turned
hastily and looked at her while he spoke ;
that the mother was coming toward her
with a smiling face ; and then her poor
pent up heart buret into a cry, and she
knew nothing more ef what was passing
till she found herself in the hall of the
hotel with some one holding a glass of
water to her lips.
" Tell me where you come from,"
said a kind voice, when she had drunk
the water and could sit up. " Tell me
ibout your father and mother."
" My. father is dead," she said ; " my
mother is ill too ill to work. I have
come from Rouen because 1 was told I
might be able to earn money for her
here. My name is Benee Barentin."
"Barentin!" said the lady, in great
surprise. Was your mother in Eng
land some time ago? Was her name,
too, Renee?"
"Ye!" said poor Renee, wistfully,
" and we have only one friend in the
whole world."
That afternoon Renee went back to
R)!icn,lnit she did not go alone. The
mother of the little fair haired maiden
Trent with her. She had been one ,of
Madame Barentin's pupils, and had
often grieved that ?he had lost sii'lit of
the governess to whom Bhe had been
s'rongiy attached. She wa auxioiM to
do everyihiug in her power to restore
Madame Barentin to health, and to re
lieve her from the anxiety that over
whelmed her. She had the invalid re
moved, in Madame Rueil's care, to a
cheerful lodging in Dieppe, and took
Renee into her own family.
At the end of the autumn Madame
Barentin was sufhcieutlv recovered to
return vis?, tb. k.M laianA r.ti
children to England, where she again
found employment ia teaching, and
lived in comfort. Hut every year the
mother and daughter spend their well
earned holiday in Rouen, where Mad
ame Rueil still lives to rejoice in their
'happiness.
Bather Fragrant.
Memphis Avalanche.
Col. Cameron says: "I deny that
Memphis is, or ever has been, a filthy
city." It would satisfy the laudable
curiosity of a great many people to
know precisely the Colonel's definition
of the word '"filth." "There are now
about 9,000 well-filled vaults in use.
'1 here have hern, at a moderate calcula
tion, twice that number, filled with foul
secretion, covered with a thin layer of
earth, aud while they are disused their
contents remain to percolate through
the porous soil, poisoning with their
foul gases the drinking water. It i a
notorious fact that a van number of
the vaults in use are intimately con
nected with the cisterns, and the people
of Memphis drink this cintern water.
And yet the Colonel says Memphis is a
clean city ! A sudden rise oC the
thermometer sometimes occurs in Bil
linHgate, leaving a larce stock of fih
on the hands of the market women. To
get ri l of their stock before it becomes
entirely rotten, the fish-wives load their
tiays with the partially decomposea nsn
ami perambulate the streets, crying out,
'Kreshfish!" "Ffeeh fiahl" Pedestrians
on the opposite side of the street hold
their noes and slide around the ne.tt
corner of the street with celerity. The
odors are too strong for human nostrils
to endure, and yet most serenely do the
fish-wives continue the cry of "Krcnh
fi.-h." TheColonel must cot consider it
a ironal matter if we compare him to
the tibli-women of Billingsgate. The
comparison is, however, obvious. long
time custom has deadened the olfactory
nerves of the English fish-women. A
long experience with the odorous nuis
ances of Memphis has deadened the
UoUmel
s olfactory nerves also, and he
now trusts" to his sense of tight alone.
He n.iw iyeen the surface only. To the
eye Memphis is a clean city. But the
truth must be told. There is a foul
rottenness underneath, and every man
in the district knows it. Two epidemics
in succession have made Memphis a
focus for the eyes ot the whole world to
investigate. It is the baldest nonsense
to talk about concealing her foulness.
The ostrichian policy of sticking her
head in the sand and leaving .the body
uncovered in the vain belief that the
body with all its festering sores is in
visible, will no longer avail. The time
has come to tell the truth, hurt whom il
may, and the truth must be told.'
Some Strange Finds.
The Bank of England has had no end
of valuables committed to its keeping.
The vaults of its establishment bold
moldering chests, deposited there for
safety's sake, and apparently forgotten
by their owners. In 1873 one fell to
pieces from sheer rottenness, exposing to
sight a quantity of massive plate ana a
bundle of yellow papers. The Utter
! proved to be a collection of love letters
j of the period of the restoration, which
j the directors were enabled to restore to
the lineal descendant nf the nrivinal
.. .
ayoirst DtsnsaasaJEtt.
raoa " ii too uxb rt."
Think nA I kn him. thoogh I ask tor him;
Tt bot a parish boy : th ao Ulka rll ;
But what oare 1 for wnrdif vet wxtH do wrtl,
When t that pks tfwm fkaaca thoaa thai boar.
But, tan, aa'i proud; and Jrt bil prtdabaeavm
him:
HaU Stake IorBaat The, beat thing la him -li
hia fwcaplxlna; (Mtrr than hii loogua
Did make oSenra, Ul tyt dM Hml It op.
HelaBrtterytallj y ilor all lytxra hot tall;
Hto li but a) ; and y tto wU:
Ther. wat a laVr-Br :
A Hide riper aa4 ifr uT
Than that mixed la ai? cheek; "tjria Jnat tha SlShr-
PetwUt the eoutant red and to't11i""k '
Than ha aaaw weataa, eurlat, 7 rkd
him
In parol, m I dtd. weald hare feat Bear
To taU In lava ertta him : hat, tr mjyart,
I km aim ae. aor hew aim sot; aad ;ret
I haTamencaoattohaMBlm thaa to kiaatats
For what had ha to do to chid at maT
He arid mlooeyae were bteok, aad mine hair blaok;
Aad, aow lam remembered, atorne alum I .-, r
ImarealvhTlaaawendaetaaatBt !- 4
B.t thafi ll oae: omittance la do lalttamoa
Clipped Paragraphs.
lLABa. iUUnain win avi vw. --
TMTfllrttM
yring is the report now current.
A Ki.IT of no account a book-keeper
sutol a situation.
To make apple trees bear, pick off all
the leaves as soon as they' appear. . .
The druggist's song "A light in the
window for thee."
Jxrr Davis was the vistim of bate.
M. K Herald. Bo was Gen. Gran the
victim of frit.
Aw African provert) says the idle are
a peculiar kind of dead who cannot be
burled.
A Rock Li hd weather prophet pro
licts that the winter will be as hard as a
hotel bed.
A question for debet which' ent
the most chiokens ministers or owls?
A clock pendnlnra is bound to keep
time if it has to swing for it.
Yes, it's perfectly propr for you. to
says Jfow l lay mo, um
down, you lie. ElrerUn.
The fashionable society weddli'? !
described as being stilTcr tharta-printmi?
office towel. Impossible.
Truth, cruhd to earth, will rire
again. But if it bo crushed 10 curth, it
lies. And if it lies, it cannot be truth.
Therefore it cannot rii'O again.
The youth who sat upou a hot stores
lid, thinking it cold. nfw lies on fhr
stomach and resd about the Oencml
who burned hishridges behind him-
Kibbiko a girl is like fishing fbr min
nows. 'There s really nothing i:i it, tut
It's huge sport.
The Detroit Free Prctt tolls of a Mich
igan woman eighty-three jvears old wiio
has a baby three weeks old one she
adopted.
With what a grim satisfaction docs a
wife exclaim: " There, I t. l 1 u co!"
when her husband has ili i htyrd hw
instruction", and made a mistake.
The difference between n hornet and
a flea is that when you pnt your lin-i
on a flea it isn't there, but whn'you i 'Jt
your finger on a hornet, it ia there.
WAKIwe Ur. Tarson " Hither
drowsey weather this, Farmer Jones.'
'minds one o' eermon time, dmi't it.
Fun.
As exchange informs .us (hat th
Mormon delegate in ("onres. Mr. Can
non, has six wives. He must be a man
of some calibre.
" Life is but a span;" marriage is a
double team ; youth wedded to old age
is a tandem : an old bachelor is a sulky.
A French gentleman meeU a young
fend pretty American girl in Paris.
" What in the world are you doine
here?'' " I'm spending my honeymoon.
" But where is your husband?" " Oh,
he's in New York."
The fannir,i hamwt now haa Sod,
0ld wlntrr'i inaile hli bow;.,
ill ruu hare nice Hlwm lo ilied,
Prepare U abed toeiu nftw.
- Why is it that showmen go to the
expence of sending to Africa-for rebrun?
If they would buy a mule they; would
get ze-brays thrown in. Omcimmli
. Saturday iaiyht.
The Czar has an income or l lri,000
per week. This is partly because !i' lias
never tried to fill a long felt want with a
newspaper. Steubtnvillt Herald. ,
Time, twelve o'clock. Hbe "George,
did you exhibit in the dog show ?" U.:
"No; why?" Bhe " Oh, noting;
only you are such a rem.".rnbl7 (We
' setter.' " Exit young man.
"If you mean well and do ill, Hod must
forgive yon," says Beecher. Then tvi.V
lick a boy for breaking a window w in n
he means to throw over the hirtiKC ?
Pedaqou UE "What is the roe an inr; tit
the Latin verb ignoscoV Tall p.ta'lent
(after all the others have failed to t;iv
the correct definition "I don't know."
Pedagogue "Bight. Go up hod."
Exchange.
A CONTESTED sheep is a good sign of
settled wether. Dmieltonvifle fkniin'l.
And an agitated buck is an indication
that there, ram a storm brewing.
Keokuk Gate City. Ewe don't say to!
The French Hociety of Hairdressers
rave an exhibition the other day for tit-?
benefit of the sufferers by the Hpani-h
j mTeUof head-dressing. Cue Udy had
inundations, ana tney produced mm
a Iiul-rlgged irlgate mouptea on ner
hair, or rather on a cushion of green
gauze set on the top of her bed, and
another was adorned with a whole Al
pine scene, chalet, snow-drifts, cow,
blue-bells and edelweiss included.
A Modern Samson.
If report speaks truly ill the astound
ing feats performed by the strong men
of antiquity, including Hercules, Kam
son and Milo of Crotona, have beer,
capped by the recent performances of a
French athlete, Joignery by name, who
is at present fulfilling, to crowded
houses, an engagement inthe Berlin
Vaudeville Theater. Tossing about
huge cannon balls with a sportive grace,
this person appears nightly on a raised
platform in the body of the theater,
above which platform is anspended an
ordinary trapeze. His ankels are then
fastened to the trapeze so that he swings
downward a few feet above the central
nrfaoe of the central stage, and in full
view oi every one m tne nouse. a none,
eoveied with gay trapping snd begirt
with a broad leathern surcingle, to
which two strong loops are attached, is
then conveyed to the stage, and there,
mounted by a full-grown man. When
all these preliminaries have been effected,
Joignerev seizes the loops in both baud,
aha by sheer muscular strength lifts the
"horse and his rider" some inch ofl
the stage, sustaining .their combined
weight in the air for several seconds,
and letting them down again as slowly
and evenly as he had raised them. Upon
the occasion of his first performance the
horse selected for the experiment was
so panic-stricken by being lifted off its
feet that when it 'was lowered to the
level of the platform its knees gave way
under It, and the attendant had a greut
deal of trouble to soak it stand up