H. A. LONDON, Jr.,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
3 dhalf(ain jcoijd.
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oho ! y. ono yo:;r, -MnTiy
tno i'iy, tlir" mouths,
Cheapest Goods & Best Variety
t'AN HE FOUND AT
Kew Goods EscBiTEd eyery WecS.
You can always find what you wish at Lon
don's. He keeps everything.
Dry Goods, Clothing, Carpeting, Hardware,
TSa "Ware, Drugs, Crockery, Confectionery
Shoes, Boots, Caps, Hats, Carriage
Materials. Sewing Machines,Oils,
Putty, Glass, Paints, Nails,
Iron, Plows and Plow
Sole, Upptr and Harness Leathers,
Shawls, Blankets, Um
brellas, Corsets, Belts, La
dies Neck-Ties and Ruffs, Ham
burg Edgings, Laces, Furniture, &c.
Best Shirts in the Country for SI.
Best 5-cent Cigar, Chewing and
Smoking Tobacco, 8auff,
Salt and Molasses.
Mj stock is always complete in every line,
and goods always sold at the lowest prices.
Special inducements to Cash Buyers.
My motto, "A nimble Sixpence is better
than a slow Shilling."
HT All kinds of produce taken.
W. L. LONDON,
Pittsboro. EM. Carolina.
Attorney at Law,
PITTSBORO', X. C.
J5S?Special Attention Paid to
J. J. JACKSON,
AT TOR NEY-AT-LAW,
PITTSBOKO X. C,
HJAU business entrusted to him will re-
c-iv prompt a'tentlon.
R. H. COWAN.
Staple & Fancy Dry Goods, Cloth
lng, Hats Boots, Shoes, No
CROCKERY and. GROCERIES,
It VLEKill, . CAB.
F. H. CAMERON, Prerident.
W. E. ANDERSON, Vice Tre.
W. II. HICKS, Sc'y.
The only Home Life Insurance Co. in
All its fund loaned out AT HOME, and
among our own people. We do not Bend
Nor Carolina money abroad to build up other
Btatea. It is one of the most successful com
panies of its age in the United States. Its as
sets are amply sufficient. All losses paid
promptly. Eight thousaud dollars paid In the
last two years to families in Chatham. It will
cost a man aged thirty years only five cents a
day to insure for one thousand dollars.
Apply for further information to
H. A. LONDON, Jr., Gen. Agt.
PITTSBOKO', N. C.
Dr. A. D. MOORE,
PITTSB0E0', H. C,
Offer hit pfofoajtional rce to tie citizens of
Cbuthtim. Vtb an experience of thirty year t.
liope to fire entire aatisfaction.
Attorney at Law,
PITTSBOBO', XT. C,
Practice la the Courts of Chatham, Harnett,
Moore and Orange, and ta the Supreme and Federal
O. S. POE,
Dry Gwis, Groceries & General Merchandise,
All kinds of Plows and Castings, Soggy
Materials, Fnrnit j re, oto.
PITTMBORO', tf. CAR.
THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE RUSTIC.
grave philosopher, whose name
To ScythU gave resplendent fame,
Iutont his kuowledge to increase,
A Journey took through classic Greece,
Where, to his profit and delight,
lie saw full niauy a novel sight,
Towers, temples, people and much more,
( A brave Ulysses did of yore) ;
But chiefly he was struck to see
A simple man. of low degree.
Untaught in philosophic page.
But in his life a very sage.
Ills farm a little patch of land
lie tilled with such a clever baud.
It yielded all be cared to spend,
ud something more to treat a friend.
Approaching where the rustle bow
Was clipping at an apple-bough,
The Scythian gave a wondering look
To see him wield his pruning hook.
Here lopping off a withered limb.
There reaching high a branch to trim,
Correcting nature everywhere.
But always with Judicious care.
" Sir," said the tourist, "tell me why
This wanton waste thatmy eyes meetr
Your husbandry seems rather rough;
Time's scythe will cut them soon enough.""
" aiay," said the sage, "I only dress
My apple-trees, and curb excess;
Enhancing thus as seems but wise
My fruit In sweetness, tale and size!"
Returning home the Scythian took
Without tit lay his pruning hook,
On all his trees the kulfe he tried.
And cut and carved on every side;
Nor from his murderous work refrained,
"Till naught but barren stumps remained!
This Scythian sage resembles those
Who deum their passions are their foes;
And who Instead of pruning where
Kx-ess requires the owner's care.
Cut down the tree that God has made
With fierce repression's cruel blade;
And thus, for future life, destroy
All precious fruit of human Joy!
iuds In wantou circles rolling
Bells of heart forever tolling.
Spirits In the dusk seem tapping,
Every bosom cord is snapping.
Drop by drop the rain is falling,
Sob by sob each heart is calling.
Voices in the air sound quaintly.
To the soul they whisper faintly,
Oh ! for light to know their meaning,
Gone lt'fore so near one seeming.
Light comes quickly 'tis of glory,
Dawn of hope no idle story ;
O'er us peace and quiet stealing,
'TIs of Heaven, of God, the feeling.
Conic, ye mysteries, to us kneeling.
Hear, oh hear the soul appealing.
Dottiest ic Monthly.
MABEL WESTON'S CHOICE.
In the parlor of a hotel in a fashionable
watering-place, in a Northern State, sat
a group of ladies discussing a new ar
rival. "She must be twenty-four, ''.said one,
4 'and will certainly be married before long;
why she has never married before, with
her face, figure and fortune, is a puzzle to
me; but then gentlemen do not always
6eek those qualities in a wife."
"Which ought to be a great comfort to
you," said another. "Rest assured that
it is Mabel Weston's fault alone that she
is not Mrs. Somebody. But fastidious
and haughty as she is, she will step out
of our way when the right one comes
The subject of these remarks was in her
room, arrayed in a magnificent toilet,
awaiting, in a listless sort of way, the
summons to dinner. At last she was seated
at the table with her Ctmsin Tom at her
side. Her entrance had created a sensation ;
she recognized the fact intuitively. But
the adulation of a crowd was so very com
monplace a thing to her, that she cared
less to discuss the quality of the praise
given than the quality of the viands set
"What do you think of the company,
Mabel?" said Tom, as he led her out of the
'Oh, one can scarcely tell yet," she an
swered. "The men strung out in a row,
remined me of lay figures in a tailor's
shop. I find the same number of pretty
faces at all these places. Tom, if I had not
got over my passion for dolls years ago, I
might get entrapped by some of yonder
creatures before I leave."
"You are a bad case, Mabel. I am
afraid you will remain Miss Weston all
"Better to live as I am than to give my
hand without my heart."
"You are a queer girl, Mabel, and I
don't believe it will pay me to make an
impression on you. So, since you don't
like our young men, let me introduce to
you a friend standing there, nearly old
enough to be vour father."
"Who is he?"
"A widower from Louisville; one of our
great steamboat men, with plenty of
money, whose name is as familiar as a
household word throughout Kentucky
and along the Ohio. Shall I present
"All right; wait here a moment, and
I'll bring him to you."
So in another minute Captain Gilmore
and Mabel Weston were introduced. Two
hours afterward Tom met them strolling
slowly through the thickly shadowed
walks of a maple grove. She laughing
guyly at something the captain was tell
ing her, and the flush of pleasure on her
face caused Tom to run his hand down in
his pockets, and give a low whistle, which
with him was the expression of great sur
prise. "Captain Gilmore is booked, that's
certain," ejaculated Tom, as he looked
after them. "The idea of Mabel talking
to one man all this time, and then looking
as if she was not iu the least tired of
The captain was, as Tom had said,
double the age of Mabel, but the years
rested on him so lightly that one would
not take hint to be more than thirty-five,
He was of medium height, but possessed
a more commanding physique and bear
ing than many a larger man could boast.
He seemed born to command. This sub
tle power to control made him feared,
and often disliked, by his subordinates,
but drew his friends closer to him. lie
was fine-looking, and possessed a pecu
liar magnetism that exerted itself in a
greater or less degree over all that knew
And now this woman, over whom the
breath of many passing love fancies had
swept but never touched, began in this
first meeting to realize that her senses
were being aroused to an interest in this
man, and as the days passed on, chance
and inclination threw her almost con-1
PITTSBORO', CHATHAM CO., N. C.
Btantly in Captain Gilmore's society. It
noi long oeiore Ma Del Weston knew
that the heart-era vines of a lifetime wer
at last satisfied; that from the inmost
aeptn oi ner soul welled up the thought
that she at last loved. The thrmo-ht
to her face a tender, spiritual beauty it
had never possessed before. The love of
other men had annoyed and worried her,
but this man's love, interpreted as yet
uuiy turougn nis eyes ana voice, was
heaven to her.
The weeks passed on. Capt. Gilmore
showed the same preference for her society
mi ue nau aiways snown, but made no
new advances toward her, though he must
have stepped, almost imperceptibly, a lit
tle way in the path of passion, for he be
gan tO miSS her When shfi dirl not nrmmir
and he would discover himself watching
for her and listening for h
And he never felt fatigued or the flight of
nine wun ner. mere was an event in his
life which he wished he had told her of in
their earlier acquaintance; it seemed such
an awkward thing to do now; and so the
secret troubled him, and made him look
oftener at Mabel. She, woman like, noted
the change, slight as it was, and was
triumphant. She interpreted his new de
meanor her own way.
"Let us go out in the park," said Mabel,
as she came across him one evening on
the piazza. "I am so tired of the dancing
and music and crowd."
"I am glad you called on me to escort
you," he said, as he placed a rustic chair
under one of the grand old trees, away
from the throng of promenaders.
"Because this is the last evening I
will be here, and I want to spend it with
The moon was shining full on Mabel's
face, and revealed to Captain Gilmore
that every vestige of color had left it
She caught her breath with a quick
sigh, as though stricken with a sudden
"But but you will return, Captain?"
shesaid, in a faltering voice, as she reached
forth her hand to him.
He took the little hand offered him,
which lay cold as ice in his, and an
swered: "No, Miss Weston, I must not "re
turn." "Is it possible," he thought, "that this
haughty, peerless woman cares for me?"
And a great temptation came to him which
he crashed almost before it became a
thought, and hated himself for the transient
There was silence for a moment between
them, and then Mabel asked:
"Why must you go?"
"Because a dear friend, my wife, returns
from abroad to-morrow, and I must be at
home to meet her."
Mabel had not expected this. She had
a vague fear that she would hear the name
of some one whom he preferred to her,
but never that his answer would tell her
she had given the great wealth of her love
to another woman's husband.
"Why have you never told me of this
before?" asked Mabel, withdrawing her
hand from his. "It is understood here
that you are a widower. '
"I did not think that our short acquaint
ance called for a recital of mv domestic
affairs, Miss Weston. My wife has been
abroad so long that only friends about my
own home know that I have one. If 1
could have known that you would have
been less my friend if I were married, I
should most certainly have told you. You
will believe this of me, will you not?"
She was too thoroughly wretched to up
braid him, and the thought came to her,
too, that she had nothing to upbraid him
for. She had always sought him and he
had never in any way committed himself
to her. Chagrin and unrequited love
caused her to forget her womanliness, and
she threw herself in her chair again in a
passion of grief.
Capt. Gilmore took her hands in his.
"I am sorry, Miss Weston, believe me,
and curse myself for what I have unwit
tingly done. I never dreamed that you,
in your youth and beauty, could care for
me You will get over this and be happy
yet, I hope."
"Can 1 put love on and off at will, Capt.
Gilmore? No, no! You will leave me,
but I shall see vour face, hear vour voice
and look into your eyes time and eter
"Hush. 'Miss Weston ! for vour own s:ilrn
Mabel," he said, as he released her hands,
"I am but mortal, and vou cannot, know
to what the love of a beautiful woman like
you tempts me?"
"Do vou love this wife? ' asked Mabel.
after a little pause.
"My love has been in her keeping for
years, Miss Weston; and there lies all my
trust and honor."
"You are a good husband," faltered
Mabel, "and I must honor yon as long
as I live. Leave me now; I will return
"Good-by, my friend."
And the white lips of the girl an
swered: "Good-by, Capt. Gilmore."
As the man went away, these words,
which he had read somewhere, came to
"No crime, no sin, no fault, no folly,
brings so much woe as does the terrible
error of irresolution. ' '
Three years passed away. Mabel Weston
had traveled far and wide in the mean
time, endeavoring to forget the one love
passage in her life. She had never heard
from Capt. Gilmore, and he became like
one dead to her. She had not married yet,
and did not think she ever would. She
had come home now, and was spending
the summer with a friend in southern In
diana. "Mabel," said her friend, one day,
"there is to be a camp-meeting at Sugar
Grove Encampment, on the Ohio, twelve
miles below Louisville. We will go for a
few days. You were never at one, and it
will be something new for you."
So the next week found Mabel with her
friend on the grounds at Sugar Grove. In
all Mabel's wanderings she had never
seen any thin g like this. They a rrived at
night, just after evening services had com
menced. There was an almost oppressive
quiet pervading the place and people. It
was so different from her ideal of a West
ern camp-meeting. There were no un
earthly shouts or shrieks, no wild excite
ment, no rushing frantically about, but to
her surprise, everything seemed to be done
decently and in order.
The rippling of the waves on the shores
of the Ohio on one side of the grounds, the
sighing of the wind through the forest of
trees wftich lined the hill that towered to
almost a mountain's height on the other
side, the moonlight struggling through the
branches of the trees; the smell of the
burning wood from the tents, the fitful
glare of the fires which lighted the
grounds, the changing shadows of the
tents, tne cnirpmg oi tne nignt-birds, the
incessant hum of injects, seemed a fitting
accompaniment to ine earnest tones of the
speaker. And God never seemed so near
to her as here.
The preacher was the Rev. Mr. M ,
from Louisville. A man who had given
up a career of fame for the cause of i e
ligion. As Mabel listened to the eloquence
of the speaker, she learned, as she never
had before, from whence help must come
to meet bravely such a trouble as here had
been and was still. It was well that she
asked and received in that hour the
strength that she needed, for, as she
turned to le ave the tent after the sermon,
a gentleman who had been seated behind
her, held out his hand in greeting. She
Jooked up and recognized Capt. Gilmore.
They walked together out of Hie crowd in
"Mabel, I have no wife now," he said,
"Dead?" Mabel asked.
"Yes, over two years ago. And you,"
he said, looking down into her face;
' I suppose you are married by this
And that was all. They separated here,
she to go with her friend, he to return on
the boat to the city. They met, only once
more during the meeting, and then only
enough for him to ask her where she was
spending the summer.
A week after Mabel's return to her
friend's house, Capt, Gilmore visited her.
He met her with outstretched hands, and
his first words were:
"You know why I have come, Ma
"Not until you tell mc," she replied,
"I have come to ask you to be my wife,
' 'Because you pity me?' ' she asked , look
ing up into his eyes.
"Because I love you."
"Then I will be your wife."
That was their betrothal. The wedding
followed soon after. And to this day
neither has had cause to regret Mabel
GHOST STORIES UNVEILED.
A LITTLE TATIENCE AN'D COMMON
SENSE SOLVES THEM 'ALL.
A few years ago I removed into a
new and larger house with a young
family. Some nights after my removal
I was awakened in the middle of the
night by a distinct knocking twice or
thrice repeated at my bedroom daor.
I called out: "Who's there V" There
was no reply; but after an interval of
a few minutes the knocking was re
peated as distinctly as before. Again
the same question: "Who's there?"
and again no reply; but again came
the knocking, if possible more distinct
and louder than before, and just as if a
person outside in the lobby had struck
sharply and repeatedly with his
knuckles on the door.
I sprang rapidly from the bed on its
being repeated, and rushed to the bed
room door and opened it, determined
to catch the knocker. But there was
noone outside; and no one could have
escaped down the staircase, which was
what is called a well-staircase, bril
liantly lighted with a flood of moon
light, which streamed through the sky
I am not and never was spirit-stiicken
or superstitious; but I will confess my
sensations now became trying; my
heart began to throb, and I returned
to bed with ears painfully awake.
Again came the knocking, clear and
distinct, and methodical as before.
Although feeling very uneasy, I crept
silently out of bed and stretched myself
on the floor with my head on the boards
and a few feet from the bedroom
door, to find out if possible from what
part ot the door the knocking pro
Again it came as before, and I could
distinctly refer it to the lowest part or
panel of the door. I suddenly opened
the door; but with the same result as
before, and again I lay iu my former
position. Again came the knocking,
three or four distinct taps; and now
fixing my eyes steadily on the spot from
which the tapping proceeded, I saw
the knuckle bone of a leg of lamb, about
the size ot a very small walnut, icrked
repeatedly against the skirting that
lay alongside the door. The skirting
was thinner than the sounding-board
of a piano; and it was the sudden tai-
ping ot the little bone against the
sounding-board that produced the re
But how was the tapping produced?
By a mouse that had found its wray
along the hollow space behind the
wainscot. It had bored a hole in the
very lowest part of the wainscot very
nearly on a level with the floor, had
found its little bone left after the chil
dren's dinner, and had dragged it to
the entrance of his hole, but could not
get it through. It had dragged through
tne tougn bitot smew which is attached
to the end of the bone popularly
known as the "gentleman's bone"
and was trying by jerking it backward
to bring the bone itself through; and
each jerk gave a blow against the thin
sounding board, and each blow gave out
the sound or mysterious knock. Had I
not discovered this, no reasoning could
have convinced me that 1 had not heard
knocks at my bed-room door; and I
should in all probability have at
tributed them to what is termed super
My next exierieiice was, if possible.
more puzzlUg. In the neighborhood
of Dublin, on the rocky seacoast of
Dalkey, tliere are several castles sup
posed to have b.en erected by the Danes
for the protection of their traders.
They are still in fair preservation, and
nave dwelling nouses ot modern con
struction built against them. One of
these old castles stands on the very
verge of the sea, over what was once a
rocky inlet but is now a harbor called
Bullock harbor, along the opposite side
of which is a row of fishermen's cot
tages, principally occupied by men who
earn their livelihood as pilots. The
dwelling house attached to this oM
castle, I with my family occupied in
summer for health's sake, and to enjoy
boating of which I was fond. I ob
served sometime after taking up my
residence in it that no matter at what
time I retired to bed and I generally
sat up one or two hours after the other
FEBRUARY 13, 1879.
members of the family had retired
the servants from the kitchen story
selected the same moment for their de
parture. This unceasing regularity became at
last annoying, and I insisted on know
ing the cause. The information given
to me was that the old castle and house
were haunted, and for no inducement
would the servants remain after I had
ascended from the parlor. I had now
reason for thinking there was some
ground for the fears. The pantry par
ticularly, and the rest of the house with
it, were walked over by footsteps at
night. These were plainly heard; and
there was added an additional aggrava
tion, for not content with this, the "su
pernatural" visitor began to do mis
chief, and generally in the gray of the
morning made free with eatables and
pots of jam on the shelves, occasionally
breaking a glass or plate.
To add to this mystery, although the
pantry was carefully locked every
night, the depredations still continued,
and at length the terror of each night's
visitation became greater and greater,
and various stories began to be circu
lated, one being that the visitant was
the spirit of a nun condemned to suffer
the pangs of hunger for some trans
gression. This was supported by the
circumstance of the old castle and
grounds having been some years before
occupied as a convent,
The only opening into the pantry
was through a ventilator in the roof,
very high up, and adjoining one of the
lofty walls of the old castle. Through
this no human being could obtain an
entrance, but it was entered by a mm
let, who came to it in this way. One
of the pilot boats was taking off a pilot
to a ship, to relieve the one on duty,
when the monkey, sick I suppose of the
sea, and determined not to lose the op
portunity, jumped into the boat, and
on nearing the shore, jumped out again,
and sought the nearest shelter, which
happened to be the old castle. The ship
was from the West Indies, laden with
sugar. The monkey, though missed
from the homeward bound, wras unno
ticed by the pilot crew, and finding his
way from the castle to the ventilator of
the adjoining dwelling house pantry,
sought to allay his hunger there when
all was quiet at night. By day the
creature lay hidden in the old castle;
and it was only after a lapse ot many
days and nights that poor Jacko was
discovered peeping out from his lodging
in the old Norman keep.
It not unfrequently happens that
houses are haunted, and kept haunted
by certain persons who have a direct in
terest in keeping up the silly trick. In
the same neighborhood the neighbor
hood of the old castle was a house re
puted to be haunted, and which has
maintained its reputation for more
than two summers. Footsteps are
heard at night, doors are slammed and
on one occasion, jugs of water have
been poured upon some members of
the family, to their great discomfort.
The ghost has been clever, and has not
yet been caught; but the solution is not
far to find, as the caretaker has a com
fortable residence gratis, which is lost
when the house is let and occupied for
the season. Chamber''s Journal,
A DESPERATE N AVAL ENCOUNTER.
One of the most desperate naval en
gagements on record was that between
the English ship Revenge, commanded
by Sir Richard Greenville,and the Span
ish fleet. Sir Richard Greenville was
Vice-Admiral to Lord Thomas How
ard, and lay off the Azores with the
English squadron in 1591. He was a
noted tyrant to his crew a dark, bully
ing fellow apparently; and it is related
of him that he would chew and swallow
wine-glasses, byway of convivial levity,
till the blood ran out of his mouth.
When the Spanish fleet of 50 sail came
within sight of the English, his ship,
the Revenge, was the last to weigh
anchor, and was so far circumvented
by the Spaniards that there were but
two courses open either to turn her
back upon the enemy or sail through
one of his squadrons. The first altern
ative Greenville dismissed as dishonor
able to himself, his country, and Her
Majesty's ship. Accordingly he chose
the latter, and steered into the Span
ish armament. Several vessels he
forced to luff and fall under his lee;
until, about three o'clock in the after
noon, a great ship of three decks of
ordnance took the wind out of his sails,
and immediately boarded. Thence
forward, and all night long, the Re
venge held her own, single-handed,
against the Spaniards. As one ship
was beaten off another took its place.
Mie endured, according to Raleigh's
computation, "eight hundred shot of
great artillery, besides many assaults
and entries." By morning the pow
der was spent, the pikes all broken,
not a stick was standing, "nothing
if it overhead either tor flight or de
fense;" six feet of water in the hold;
almost all the men hurt, and Green
ville himself in a dying condition. To
bring them to this "pass, a fleet of fifty
sail had been mauling them for fifteen
hours; the Admiral of the Hulks and
the Ascension, of Seville, had both gone
dowTi alongside, and two other vessels
had taken refuge on shore in a sink
ing state. In Hawke's words, they had
"taken a great deal of drubbing."
The captain and crew thought they
had done about enough; but Green
ville was not ot this opinion; he gave
orders to the master-gunner, whom he
knew to be a fellow after his own stamp,'
to scuttle the Revenge where she lay.
The others, who were not mortally
wounded like the Admiral, interfered
with some decision, locked the master
gunner into his cabin, after having de
prived him of his sword, for he mani
fested an intention to kill himself if
he were not to sink the ship; and sent
to the .Spaniards to demand terms.
These were granted. The second or
third day after, Greenville died of his
wounds aboard the Spanish llacr-shin.
leaving his contempt upon the "traitors
and dogs" who had not chosen to do as
he did, and engage fifty vessels, well
lound and fully manned, with six in
ferior craft ravaged by sickness and
short of stores. He at least, he said,
had done his duty as he was bound to
do, and looked for everlasting fame.
A RACE FOR A BRIDE.
The following is a very graphic and
pleasing account of a wedding race
among the Huzarehs, and the devices
of the bride to be captured only by the
man that she loved:
The suitors of the maiden, nine in
number, appear in the field, all un
armed, but mounted on the best horses
they can procure; while the bride her
self, on a beautiful Turkoman stallion,
surrounded by her relations, anxiously
surveys the group of lovers. The
conditions of the bridal race were
these: The maiden has a certain start
given, which she avails herself of to
gain a sufficient distance from the
crowd to enable her to manage her
steed with freedom, so as to assist in
his pursuit the suitor whom she pre
fers. On a signal from the father, all
the horsemen gallop after the fair one,
and whichever first succeeds in en
circling her waist with his arm, no
matter whether disagreeable or to her
choice, is entitled to claim her as his
wife. After the usual delays incident
upon such interesting occasions, the
maiden quits the circle of her relations
and putting her steed into a hand
gallop, darts into the open plain.
When satisfied with her position, she
turns round to the impatient youths,
and stretches out her arms toward
them, as if to woo their approach.
This is the moment for giving the sig
nal to commence the chase, and each
of the impatient youths, dashing his
pointed heels into his courser's sides,
darts like the unhooded hawk in pur
suit of .the fugitive dove. The savan
nah was extensive, full twelve miles
long and three in width, and as the
horsemen sped across the plain, the
favored lover became soon armarent bv
the efforts of the maiden to avoid all
others who might approach her. At
length, after nearly two hours' racing,
the number of pursuers is reduced to
four, who are all together, and gra
dually gaining on the pursued; with
them is the favorite, but alasl his
horse suddenly fails in his speed, and
as she anxiously turns her head, she
perceives with dismay the hapless con
dition of her lover; each of the more
fortunate leaders, eager with antici
pated triumph, bending his head on his
horse's mane, shouts at the top of his
voice: "I come, my Peri; I am your
lover." But she, making a sudden
turn, and lashing her horse almost to
fury, darts across their path and
makes for that part of the chummun,
plain, where her lover was vainly en
deavoring to goad on his weary steed.
The three others instantly check their
career, but in the hurry to turn back
two of the horses are dashed furiously
against each other, so that both steeds
and riders roll over on the plain. The
maiden laughed, for she well knew she
could elude the single horseman, and
flew to the point where her lover was.
But her only pursuer was rarely
mounted and not so easily shaken off;
making a last and desperate effort, he
dashed alongside the maiden, and
stretching out his arm, almost won the
unwilling prize; but she, bending her
head on her horse's neck, eluded his
grasp and wheeled off again. Ere the
discomfited horseman could again ap
proach her, her lover's arm was around
her waist, and amid the shouts of the
spectators they turned toward the
THE MAHWA TREE.
A FOUNTAIN OF FOOD, WINE AXD OIL.
Mr. E. Lockwood, who wras for sev
eral years a magistrate in Moughyr,
India, has described in the Journal of
the Linnrean Society the economic uses
of the mahwa tree, which he speaks of
as "a fountain yielding food, wine and
oil" to 'the inhabitants of the country
where it grows. This tree (the Bosnia
latifolia of botanists) grows in the plains
and forests of Bengal, and attains a
height of forty to fifty feet, with num
erous spreading branches, forming a
close, shady, rounded crown. Stand
ing on the Kharakpoor hills, 250 miles
northwest of Calcutta, a hundred thou
sand of the trees are visible in the plains
below. They might be mistaken for the
mango, but while the mango is uncer
tain in its yield, the crop of the mahwa
never fails. The part eaten are the
flowers, which are sweet-tasting and
succulent, and fall in great profusion
during March and April. The natives
collect these, dry them, and store them
as staple articles of food. Each tree
yields two or three hundred-weight of
the corollas; so that the total yield in
the Moughyr district alone, it is esti
mated, cannot tall short of 100,000 tons.
The nourishment is good, for the San
thals, who use it largely, are plump
and happy. The mahwa had its share
in alleviating the Indian famine, and
during the scarcity which prevailed at
Behar (1873-4) the crop, which was
unusually abundant, kept thousands of
poor people from starvation. The
flowers are still more useful for feeding
cattle; and again the same recommen
dation may be advanced, that while the
potato, maize and barley are uncertain
in their crop, there has never been a
season when these corollas have been
known to fail. Their keeping powers
are excellent; a ton, dried and put into
sacks, was exported, and, examined
after two years' time, was found to be
undamaged. The tree furnishes a hard
and strong timber used for carriage
wheels, etc. The seeds yield a greenish-yellow
oil, used for burniag in
lamps, making soap and for culinary
purposes. The flowers, in addition to
their use as food, are now largely em
ployed in the distillation of a strong
smelling spirit resembling whisky, and
which is consumed in great quantities
by the natives. This liquor, when
fresh, proves very deleterious to Eu
ropeans. The mahwa is considered by
the Bheels as essenti .1 to their very
existence, and this fact is taken advan
tage of by the Government in dealing
with refractory tribes; it is only neces
sary to threaten the destruction of their
mahwa trees to bring them to submis
sion. Some of the English papers be
lieve that there is a possible commer
cial future for the economic products
of this tiee, especially for its oil, which
is said to be worth $175 per ton in
One square, one insertion.
One square, two insertions
One square, one month, -
made larger at,vert,seMeiits literal contracts will be
The San Francisco Bulletin esti
mates that there are 3,000,000 acres
of swamp or overflowed lands in Cali
fornia. The ex-Empress Eugenie is not in
positive destitution, having just sold
for $472,300 three of her houses in the
Rue de l'Elysee.
A convict who was sent to the
Michigan State Prison in 1859 for life,
is seekine a pardon. He has earned
over 12C0 hy working over-time.
There is said to be an old Turk.
named Pavanovic. livinar at Bihatz. in
Crotia, who is 125 years old, and able
to carry a sack of 100 pounds of wheat
The New Orleans Times has offered
$100 as a prize for a poem, written by a
oouinerner, which shall record the no
ble charitv of the North duriner tha
The Kinff of Bavaria is erectinc at
Herrenchlemsee a royal chateau, on the
plan of Versailles. The building is to
be fifteen vears in the course of con
struction, and to cost $9,000,000.
The King of Greece has bestowed
the Gold Cross of the Order of the Sa
viour upon Mr. Blanchard Jerrold. "in
token of his distinguished labors in the
cause of Christianity and freedom in
A woman hearing a great deal
about "preservme autumn leaves."
concluded to put up a few jars of them.
She told a neighbor yesterday that she
didn't think they would ever be fit to
eat, and she might just as well have
thrown her sugar away.
Vanilla. During the first three-
quarters of the current year 40,750
pounds ot vanilla were sent to France
alone from the island of Reunion, and a
further quantity of 17,250 pounds was
received from Mexico, an increase in
each case of about 15 per cent, on the
figures on thehrst three-quarters of
1877. The total import from all sources
was 91,000 pounds, of which over one
third was re-exported.
Of the twelve marble figures in
tended to adorn the base of the dome
proper of the new Capitol at Hartford,
Conn.,apositiononthe dome tower,ele
vated seventy-iive feet above the roof,
live or six are already nearly finished.
These statues are various symbolical
figures, eight feet high,and wnen placed
in position will add much to the effect
of the dome. They are cut out of
blocks of imported marble that weigh
about eight tons apiece. Next spring
the work of elevating the statues to
their positions will begin.
American Cigarettes in Paris.
America ought to feel highly flat
tered at having the honor to introduce
any innovation into high-toned society.
It is, however, a fact that since the Ex
hibition nos mondaines have indulged
to an alarming extent in American
cigarettes. Countesses and marquises
now smoke like those royal ladies who,
in old times, went to borrow pipes
from the Swiss guards. American
cigarettes threaten to become a power
ful craze, which will succeed to that of
china monsters and Japanese knick
knacks. The Continental Gazette,
The electric light is about to be in
troduced into two or three London
Churches. It is also largely employed
at West-gate-on-Sea, upon the exten
sive estates of an Englishman who is
interested in comparing the relative
cost and advantages of electric light
and gas. Along the pretty sea-frontage
of Westgate are arranged rows of elec
tric and gas lamps, the one to illumi
nate the broad marine parade and drive,
with the tasteful villas and terraces,
and the other to light up the ornamen
tal gardens and promenades. Notwith
standing the semi-opaqe globes absorb
ing some sixty per cent, of the brilliant
white electric light, the adjacent gas
lamps appear in contrast to burn dimly
with a smoky, dull, dirtylamber-yellow
Habit of Sunt kino. The habit of
shirking is a great evil in our land.
Sad and bitter are the experiences of
multitudes who have lost positions of
emolument and trust by shirking du
ties and responsibilities devolving upon
them. They saw their mistake after it
was too late. It is a bad sign to see a
young man contracting the habit of
shirking. You may set it down at
once that sooner or later he will be a
drone in the great hive of human in
dustry, living without any purpose in
life and scorned by all who have wil
ling hands, and follow up what they
can find to do. Young man, if you
want to gain the confidence and esteem
of your employer, never shrink from a
duty. If overtasked, lay in your com
plaints, and you will always get a
hearing. If you will begin life a shirk,
you may set it down as a fixed fact
that the habit will follow you through
life, and as a "success you will be an
Excessive Politeness. The Sax
ons are a very polite people, so over
polite that they not infrequently bring
down ridicule upon themselves. It used
to be told in Dresden in Causeur's stu
dent days, that a stranger in the city
was one day crossing the great bridge
that spans the Elbe, and accosted a na
tive with a request to be directed to a
certain church which he wished to find.
"Really, my dear sir," said the Dres
dener, bowing low, "I grieve greatly to
say it, but 1 cannot tell you. The
stranger passed on, a little surprised at
this voluble answer to a simple ques
tion. He had proceeded but a few
rods when he heard hurried footsteps
behind him, and turning saw the same
man running to catch up with him. In
a moment his pursuer was at his side,
his breath nearly gone, but enough
left to say: "My dear sir, you asked
me how you could find the church, and
it pained me to have to say that I did
not know. Just now I met my brother
and asked him, but I grieve to say that
he did not know either. Ich emphalz
mkh P Boston. Transcript,