Newspapers / The Chatham Record (Pittsboro, … / April 14, 1881, edition 1 / Page 1
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djhalhsm Record. am H. A. LONDON, Jr., EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION: BATES ov ADVERTISING. One square, ope Insertion, - One square, two insertions,' One square, ono month, - 11.00 1.50 tyre cTT. trn0 ycar. " vna ropy , sU mou th -ko rtpr. & wootks, UN 1.00 VOL. III. NO. 31. PITTSBORO', CHATHAM CO., N. C, APRIL 14, 1881. H. A. unoi, Jr., Editor and FWisbtr. Tor larger sdrertisemcnts liberal comIkm is : .l A III . . . W I k Y All XA PAVWW II O T&e A mat ear Farmer I dreamt of a bnautiful time When the world shall happy be! When the elephant ani hyenas Shall blossom on every tree; When tamarinds and potatoes Shall cease thoir draadtul roari When turnip trees sha'l blossom In the garden lor over more. I dreamt of a great republic When the people shall all go West,' Saw plums and reap tomatoes In the land they love the best; When pig iron and molasses Shall bloom on every hill. And chickens low in the b&rny&ro While gooseberries toil at the mill I'm weary of seeing the cabbage Handle the rake and the boe; I'm wear; ot watching and waiting For the grasshopper bush to grow I long lor the time when spinach Shall cope with bread and milk; When hens shall lay potatoes, And horses spin raw silk. Ob ! sweet were the vanished hoars When I wandered down the glen, And wreathed my brow with tomatoes, Or plucked the ripened hen; Whon the donkoy twined up the trellis, And the cucumber chirped in the grass And the sweet potato whistled To its mate in the mountain pass. But gone are the days of childhood, And manhood's dreams are mine; Tet I long lor the the by-gone hoars, As 1 sit 'ncath this Turkish vine. Oh ! wreathe your blossoms about me. And soothe my aching breast; While gooseberry plaintively warbles And lulls me into rest. MADELINE. All the girls who were leaving school carried with them anticipations of a gay winter, a round of parties, balls and j operas. Not so with Madeline Delanney. ; The dying will of her father made her J aunt's house her home, for the years I between eighteen and twenty-one, and j if Madeline had been unwilling to com- j ply she would still have gone, so great ' was her respect for her father's memory, j Mrs. Chathard was an invalid and her ; family consisted only of her son a man j over thirty and said to be eccentric j and the old family servants. Decidedly, ; not a very brilliant prospect for Made line. It was a sullen autumn day when Madeline rode, for the first time, up the avenue leading to her aunt's house. She saw a gray sky, flying clouds, and a white beach on which the sea beat heavily in, and standing in the midst of o cluster of pines was a low, massive building, that might have been a prison, and possibly was a house. No one came to the door to welcome her. Mrs. Chat hard was in the library, and begged that Madeline would come to her there. She found her lying on the sofa, busy with some sort of knitting a sallow, delicate, fretful woman. "No," she said, shrinking back, as Madeline showed a disposition to kiss her ; " no ono but Frederic has kissed me for years. Don't commence. I am a creature of habit ; I don't like to be disturbed in any of my regular habits. I only come down to-day on your account, and it has quite unnerved me. I shall not try again. I must have perfect re pose. Frederic comes to see me morn ing and evening ; that is as much as I ran bear." "With that, Madeline was waved off to her room, where indignation supplanted a strong desire to cry, and curiosity gradually got the better of both. It was really, she decided, on looking about her, a pleasant room, with crimson cur tains and furniture and a deep window looking out on the sea. There was a bureau, with a great many little draw ers, and she pleased herself with arrang ing them mentally. There was a vase of flowers that spoke of a conservatory ; she had seen that the library was well filled ; a pretty piano occupied a recess in her room. " I shall pass my timo very tolerably," thought Madeline, resignedly. " I won der what my cousin is like." Ferhaps this last thought had some influence in her toilet, else why should hc have braided her hair and put on hfr most becoming dress? It was hard ly to be supposed that her charms would have much effect on the quiet parlor maid who alono was in attendance. Madeline ate her supper with curling Hp and a stormy brow. "He is a barbarian! I know I shall hate him !" was her inward comment. " He must have known that I would be here. He .v light have been civil. How ever, I shall do very well without him." And getting a book from the library 'helves, she sat herself down resolutely to read. But try as she would, her thoughts wandered back to the pleasant room where she used to sit with her girl friends, reading and talking, so different from this great, silent, handsome house. I am afiaid the contrast was not too favorable, fo her pillow was wet with tears that night. A week passed away. During that tiuie Madeline saw Mrs. Chathard once that was all. The rest of the time she l apsed in solitude, till Saturday evening, 'hen the prime old housekeeper entered the parlor whore Madeline was sitting, work-basket in hand. "Mr. Frederic is at home," said she, " and Mrs. Chathard thinks it proper that I should sit in the room ;" with which explanation she walked over to the extreme end of the apartment and vanished behind the curtains of the bay window. Madeline curled her lip slightly at these prudential preparations, and went on with her reading, trying to convince herself that her heart was not beating fast. She heard a quick, masculine step without in the hall, .heard it come in the room and advance towards her, but did not raise her eyes till he stood directly before her. She had hard work to re press her surprise, he was so little like what she had imagined. Not old for if he was really thirty, he by no means looked his age not tall, thin and sal low ; on the contrary, small, though well formed, with an abundance of hair; large blue eyes that should have be longed to a woman, so evenly arched were the brows, so long were the lashes, so soft, so almost suffering, their ex pression ; clear-cut features ; teeth that showed white and even through his thick moustache ; a gentle, quiet, as- j sured manner, neither austere nor frown- j ish, as Madeline had imagined, but that j of a gentleman and a man of the world, j He opologized easily enough for the apparent incivility: "Important busi ness," that much-endured scapegoat, had detained him he was extremely sorry, j But Madeline, who had no patience ' with his lame excuses, interrupted him j sharply: i "Pray, spare your regrets, it is quite i evident that your sorrow is of the deepest j dye. Your countenance bespeaks it." Mr. Frederic opened his eyes wide and j sat down. Hitherto he had seemed nn- j decided on the question. "So, then, you are really offended, and show it after a spirited fashion. Good. ! I shall have to make my peace. It will j give us something to talk about." "Is there really any necessity for talk-; ing at all?" demanded Madeline, still I more indignantly. t "A few minutes ago I thought not. 1 1 intended to have gone through the ne- j cessary formalities, and after that to : have sat occasionally with you, by way j of keeping you in countenance; but now I say yes! There is something original about you; it may be only a spark, a j glimmer; but whatever it is, I will de-1 velope it." "You leave my individuality out of ac count, I think." "Not in the least. I count on it for my amusement." "Amusement! We share the same blood , Mr. Chathard . I think you should know something of the will which is among our heirlooms. I doubt if I shall choose to serve even a Chathard as amusement. "You will have no choice. You will go to church with me to-morrow, You will see and be seen of all the magnates. They will forthwith call upon you; you will go to make a round of dreary visits; you will go to solemn tea drinkings; you will talk to Captain Fanway and Sir Peter Farquhar, the two eligibles of the parish; and when you have talked over the weather, you will begin to fidget and wish yourself home with me. Even a bear like me will prove more endur able than those unmitigated young men. You will talk with me, and in the nature of things, you will amuse me. You can not help yourself." "I have other resources," answered Madeline, loftily. "I have arranged a dramatic course of study." Mr. Chathard laughed. "Try it, my dear cousin, by all means, It is the most enchanting thing in the world in prospect. Try it, I say again; and remember, I shall be very happy to aid you if any difficulty occurs which, though it is to be presumed, is not pos sible." With which he took himself off, leav ing Madeline, piqued and curious. She had ample time, however, to recover her self and proceed with her studies. It was three mortal weeks before he pre sented himself again. When he did come it was in a ghostly fashion. - She was bending over a book and looking weary and strangely dissatisfied. He gave her a chair near him. "Talk!" he said imperatively. "Iam bored." Madeline's hot blood leaped up in re volt. Words hovered on her lips that, cool as he was, could not but have placed an effectual barrier between them. Something arrested them. A pained look was in his eye, anguish about his mouth, showing dimly through the mask of cynicism. A new impulse possessed her. "Cousin," she said, gently enough, "why should we be at war? We are of the same blood, and I think we are alike in one thing at least that we are both alone. Why, goad each other with bit ter words? Would it not be better to help each other? I don't ask nor offer any confidence; only if there could be a liking, and a friendship between us, let it develop itself. Let us not hinder it. I am so lonely; and I think, if vou j would let me, that I should like you." J "I swore once," he said never to trust mankind, still less womankind, again." "Unsay the rash oath," she said eagerly. "It shuts you from all happi ness and goodness." "How dare you ask me? In whom shall I trust?" "In me." "A girl a child, that doesn't know even the meaning of things about her, much less her own heart?" "I know one thing ; the truth that I feel within me. That never dies, and never fails. Only try me, cousin. I long to do you good." "I believe you do," he taid, much softened. "I believe, with all of my in nocent fervor, you do wish it. I will trust till I see that you, too, are going to deceive me. Will you take the re sponsibility?" Madeline held out her hand, and so there was a truce between them. Every night they studied and talked under the supervision of the prim housekeeper, and at last he fell into a way of taking a morning walk with her in the garden and riding with her to several parties and always to church, and the neighborhood held up its hands in astonishment. Months passed away. Very peaceful, happy ones they were. But one evening he failed to make his appearance. All the next day Madeline watched for him, but in vain. "He had gone away," she thought, with a keen pang, "and did not tell me." One week passed two three. Sus pense giew unendurable. She ventured an inquiry of the prim housekeeper. "Mr. Frederic is not far away he's is ill." "111! Why was I uot told? I will go and see him at once !" "He has the typhus fever, Miss; and Mrs. Chathard ordered that you should on no account be admitted, for fear of the infection." Madeline left the housekeeper with out another word, and went straight to Frederic's room. She was not very sure of its locality; for it was in the other wing of the house, a place where she had never ventured. She was, however, ex ceedingly doubtful of the propriety of going in at all; but if he should die with out her, would propriety console her? She went in trembling. He was alone and awake. He turned towards her, hollow, reproachful eyes. "Are you better?" was the first ques tion. "Yes ; but why have you left me alono so long? I thought that you cared for me. "I do, I do. I never knew. I waited and wondered, and grew sick at heart. No one told me, and to-day I asked, I was too proud to do it before. I thought you had gone away, after the old fashion, without telling me. Then they said I inusn't come to you for fear of the in fection." 'There is danger ! Go away at once !" "I will not. Why should I not share danger with you ? All the orders in the world shan't drive me from you !" . He turned towards her with sudden animation, seizing her hand, looked earnestly into her face, and said: "My little darling, I really believe that you love me as I do you!" And from that moment he mended, spite of doctor's physic, and the sombre old house is gay enough under the blithe supervision of the young mistress, Mrs. Frederic Chathard, or Madeline. Celebrated Poisoners. At one time, poisoning was largely practised in Italy. The most celebrated of the Italian poisoners were two women named La Spaza and Tophania, who were both executed. The latter con fessed that she had been instrumental in poisoning six hundred people, during a life of seventy years. Her poison was colorless and tasteless, and could not be detected. It was put up in phials and labelled by her "Manna of St. Nicholas," though it was usually known by her own name as Agna Tophania. So common a thing did poisoning become, that fashionable ladies kept bottles of thi3 fatal water upon their dressing ta bles, as they would lavender water. By regulating the dose victims could be despatched in a week, a fortnight, a month, or a longer period, as suited the plans of the poisoners. In England seventeen persons were poisoned by Rouse, the Bishop of Rochester's cook. Madame de Brinvilliers, a young and beautiful Frenchwoman of most engag ing manners, ran a distinguished career as a slow poisoner. By the advice of her husband, she leagued with a poison er by the name of Saint Croix, to de spatch her father and brothers, that she might inherit their property. The fel lowship of crime inspired her with a guilty passion for her accomplice, and she afterward sought to poison her hus band that she might marry Saint Croix. But the latter had no fancy to form a closer connection with this wicked woman, and, by the secret administra tion of antidotes, prevented the hus band's death. She was at length detected in her practises and perished on the scaffold. FOR THE FAIR SEX. Fashionable Fancied. The beads on new cut jet trimmings are hollow, which makes their weight light and their cost heavy. Harper's Bazaar advises that brunettes and ladies with sallow complexions use the ecru-tinted muslins and laces that look as if they had been dipped in cof fee, or else that they confine themselves to the black neck-wear, which is always stylish and nearly always becoming. One of the favorite mantles of the season is that with the sides gathered into a small sleeve that is merely caught at the wrist, while it is sloped thence like a mantle toward the back. The back is laid in pleats, and the front is trimmed with passementerie, pleated lace and fringe. Many of the silk and satin shoes have long attenuated monograms, worked or painted on the toe and instep. They are in the same style as those which have of late ornamented parasols. Gen erally only two letters are arranged ; they are worked in gold and silver, as well as colored thread, in satin stitch. House and table linen are marked in the same way. There are various flounces made ex pressly to be worn round dark foulard skirts. Some are of exquisite white or ecru embroidery ; others are of brown linen, edged with lace to match ; others still are of white linen, trimmed with Mech.in laco. The disadvantage of a white flounce as a border to a skirt is that it makes it appear too short, and as if it was worn over a petticoat that came below it. However, as it is a current fashion, there is nothing to say. Fans are often now suspended from the right side of a ball or dinner dress by loops of pale-colored ribbon, attached by an old-fashioned paste buckle. Smal ler buckles are used for finishing off the ribbon that is run as the head of the long evening silk mittens, or that which passes round the arm of the gigot or el bow sleeves. Ladies who have these old-fashioned ornaments are fortunate now, as they can show them off in many ways. Lace ties, fichus and bows require much style in the wearer. Black lace bows and blark lace collarettes are be ginning to be worn. Most of the newest for day wear are either the closest of ruffs or are large collars reaching to the shoulder. A fashionable style among artistic dressers consists of two gathered frills of lace, one above the other, turn ing down from the neck. Those who desire to be well dressed should make a study of the kind that suits them best. Some of the smartest and newest aprons are made of cream or fancy Madras muslin, trimmed with cream and colored lace, as well as with a narrow pleating of the muslin. They are fin ished off with colored bows, and some have a small spray of flowers fastened into loops of lace or ribbon on the pockets. They are worn for bazars, tennis or over morning indoor costumes. Pinafores made of the same are 'worn over sateen or foulard dresses. For children's best dresses they are very suitable and dressy looking. They are long at the back and well draped. A Buried City. French newspapers report the discov ery in Algiers, by the archreologist, M. Tarry, of a city which had Deen entomb ed in the sand. M. Tarry's attention had been awakened by the mound-like appearance of the sandy soil, and some digging brought to light the minarets and upper portion of a mosque. Fur ther excavations laid bare a terrace, a tower, and about a dozen houses, all in excellent preservation. He reported his discovery to the Government of Algiers, which has undertaken to have the site thoroughly explored. The place is in the southern part of the province, not far from the Town of Onargla, and ex posed to the full blast of the sandy winds from the desert. Probably a suc cession of siroccos bearing clouds of sand completely filled up the streets and houses, making the town uninhabitable, and so drove out the population. At present there is no ground for conjec ture as to the date of the occurrence.' London THmes. Au Estimable Lady. Many of the old epitaphs found on country tombstones are notable only for their oddity, but here is one which con tains in brief compass a whole nest of Scripture lessons. It is engraved on the slab which covers the grave of an old lady in Massachusetts: A Sarah to her husband, A Eunice to her childron, A Lois to her grandchildren. A Lydia to God's ministers. A Martha to her guests, A Dorcas to the poor, and An Anna to her God. The husband of this good woman must have been a highly favored man, and her children must have risen up and called her blessed. Two large sugar refineries in Phila delphia are about to be enlarged so as to increase their combined capacity to four thousand barrels per day. Last year these refineries consumed 156,395 hogs heads of raw sugar imported from the West Indies. A Bad Elephant. Few showmen, says a New York letter, envy the Canadians who bought Empe ror at Barnum's sale a few months ago, and predictions are made that the vicious brute will raise mischief before he gets through the season in Canada. It has been about a year since Emperor travel ed. His nature is so treacherous and his temper so violent that the keepers dread to have him around, and he was lent to the Central park collection. He was kept chained up after he went to the park, but even then he made vicious lunges at people and came near killing a keeper. Superintendent Conklin had a great iron cage made, and Emperor was put in that. The cage had no bot tom, and one day Emperor rushed at a man at whom he was offended, and car rying the cage along with him pinned the man against the partition. Long iron rods now rivet the cage pat to the stone floor, and Emperor's capacity for mischief is very limited. For several months Emperor has been on his good behavior. His head droops meekly, and no trace of vieiousness can be seen in his mild, blinking eyes. The keepers won der what he is going to do next, and do not abate in their wariness. Mr. Conklin had Emperor out for an airing two or three times during winter. The neighborhood of the menagerie was first cleared of visitors, and then the old fellow was led around the buildings with a chain. He showed no emotion of any kind at this glimpse of freedom. The question of a keeper for the com ing season was at firft a perplexing one to Emperor's purchasers. Old keepers all over the country know the beast by sad experience or reputation, and have declined, with thanks, proffers of situa tions. "Don't touch that elephant; he'll kill the whole of you," wrote one man. "He broke my arm and collar-bone in 1876, and I don't want anything to do with him." One writer was earnest in his appeal to the owners not to trust Em peror under any circumstances. Other keepers had reminiscences of fractured ribs and legs to relate in explanation of their declinations. An experienced keeper has been engaged, however, and by some it is believed that Emperor's fit of sulks is over, and that he will be a good elephant all summer. Bro. Gardner's Lime-Kiln Club. "Doan' be too good," said the old man, as he crossed his hands under his coat- tails. "I advise you to be good, but not goody-good. When a man reaches a sartin line of goodness he will have de respect an' esteem of all who meet him ; orfuns will bless him an' widders will pray for him. When he crosses ober dat line he will pray fur de poo' wid one hand an' lend money at fifteen per cent, wid de odder. He will shed tears fur his naybur's woes, but leave six inches of snow on his sidewalk fur de public to wade frew. His chin will quiver when he speaks of de poo' heathen in Africa, but his own boys will play base ball in de alley on Sunday. He will weep ober de need of more orfun asylums, but he won't put down a shillin' in money. He will talk charity by de hour, and charge a boy fifty cents for breakin' a two shil lin' pane of glass. I doan' want nuflin' to do wid a too good man. When I know a man to be wicked I know how to take him. When I know him to be a goody goody man my only safety am to let him alone. When you meet a man who am distressed ober de gineral wickedness of de world doan' you lend him any money widout good security. When you meet a man who says 'ah' an' 'um,' an' rubs his hands together an' rolls up his eyes, doan' challenge him to trade horses. Find me a man who weeps bekase de world hain't better an' I show you a man who makes his own home unhappy. Vengeance Upon a Mule. Old Silas was a very revengeful man. Now, Silas owned a mule, and one day the mule raised his hind legs and smote Silas, whereupon the old man sat upon the barn floor and wept. Suddenly he smiled, and seizing a grain sack, he filled it with sand and rocks, and tied a leather apron around it. Then he hung it down from the beam right behind the mule. A shudder passed over the animal, but he nerved himself and let fly. He sent the bag to the roof, but the recoil struck him with surprise, not only once but two or three times. The mule was as tonished, shocked! He wasn't used to being kicked back. Old Silas laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. The mule kicked again and "the bag kicked back. They kept up the contest all day, and towards evening the mule showed signs of weakening, but old Silas was not satisfied vet. He went to bed, and during the night he heard the mule braying for mercy, but his heart was hardened. When he went to the stable in the morning the sand bag was as fresh as ever, but the mule had laid down in despair and was dead died of a broken heart. If the time thrown away by girls in archery was used in piecing bed quilts people would not dream so often of caves of ice and avalanches of snow and wake up with shivers fighting for possession of the bed. A FABLE. How the Coon Presided. Once upon a time there was a general assemblage of fowls and animals, called together to discuss the question of re from. The Tiger shed tears over the wickedness of the Rabbits, the Hyena wept at the rapacity of the Vultures, and the Wild Cat pressed his paws to his aching heart and sighed over the vil lainies perpetrated by the Rats and Mice. A venerable old Coon was made chair man of the meeting, and after clearing his voice he began : "My friends, there is great need of re form. We are drifting down to perdi tion at racehorse speed. Speak, brothers, speak, and let us have a full and frank expression." "I am for reform," said the Tiger as he rose up. "I see the Coons out every night, stealing corn and raising old Ned generally, and I hope they may be brought to see the error of their ways." "Reform is my watchword," began the Buffalo as he secured the floor, "and I hope the Tigers will commence the good work in their midst. The Tiger who just addressed you has the blood of my slain calf still on his lips." "It is my opinion," began a veteran old Hyena, "that reform is most needed among the vultures. They have become so bold that I hardly stand a show now adays to find a carcass for myself." "And since men have taken to carry ing guns and swords I hesitate to attack them," said a Wolf. "I move you, Mr. Chairman, that it is the sense of this meeting that men no longer go armed." "Hear what I have to say," pleaded the Wild Cat. ' 'I move that the Panther be censured for eating flesh." "And my friend the Cow should be forced to let grass alone," observed an Elephant." "In order to get the sense of the meet ing I move that we no longer eat flesh," observed a Deer. "I move to amend by substituting the .1 n worn grass, promptly responded a Wolf. t i i i . . amendments ana resolutions were coming in like the Pacific Express, when the old Coon in the chair called for or der and said : "My friends, let us begin our reform by routing out the Serpents." "No! no!" protested a Fox, "I lease my cave to a family of Serpents at ex cellent cash figures. Let's drive the Worms out of the countrv." Dut we ieect on worms, chirped a hundred Birds. "Drive them out and we'd starve !" Thus they continued, each one anxious to preserve whatever was good for him self and sacrifice whatever was good Jior his neighbor, until the Coon cut the dis cussion short by saying: "Order! Ordor! Now, then, any bird or fowl who is willing to begin this re form campaign by sacrificing personal gains please stand up." Everything continued to sit. "Well, then, any one willing to begin the reform at home and under his own hat please stand up." No one stood up. "I think we have bitten off more than we can chew," said the Coon as he laid down his gavel. "This is a very wicked world, and there is great need of reform, but when Tigers set out to reform Hyenas and Wild Cats find fault with the doings of Wolves it's time to dismiss the meeting. MORAL. Charity may begin next door, but reform should commence at home. Florida Ship Canal. A dispatch from Philadelphia says: "Now that the Philadelphia capitalists, who are about to reclaim the immense tracts of land in the state of Florida, known as the "Everglades." have com pleted their contract with that state, it is no longer a secret that one of the main features of the gigantic scheme is the building of a ship canal across the state of Florida. This project almost equals in importance that of reclaiming the twelve million acres of the richest land in the world, south of the frost belt. A ship canal across the stato of Florida has been the dream of engineers for many years. It would not onlv shorten the distance between the Ameri can ports on the Atlantic coast r. d all European ports to New Orleans, Mobile and all shipping points on the Gulf of Mexico, but it would avoid the dangers to navigation which are experienced on the countless keys and coral reefs off the Southern and Southwestern coast of Florida. All ship captains know of this danger, which is often aggravated by hurricanes, which are common to the southward of Florida, but which are comparatively unknown on the west coast, in the region of Tampa Bay. It is well known that a number of New York capitalists have been endeavoring for some years to get a charter from the state of Florida to build a ship canal, but the Philadelphia company, with a great deal of shrewdness, have got ahead of them. In connection with the Pana ma Canal, now in the course of construc tion, the Florida canal must at once at tract the attention of the capalists, not only of America but of Europe. It will be much easier to steal an um brella now than four weeks hence, ITEMS OF INTEREST. St. Louis chillblains are the worst in market. Chicago drug stores aim to make 400 per cent, profit. A $500,000 grain elevator is to be erected in Council Bluffs, Iowa. The Legislature of West Virginia ad journed until the second Wednesday in January, 1882. Poets who have written most of the sea have been awful careful to make their journeys by land. A St. Louis preacher has made him self unpopular by preaching against second marriages. Talmage says a person can be too en thusiastic on the subject of religion and do the cause much injury. The Czar of Russia has been put out of the way, but will his son show the Ni hilists any favors for their crime ? F. M. Crowley, a porter in the New York postoffice, has been detected steal ing valuable letters and held in 5,000 bail for trial. A steam cotton mill, on a large scale, will be built immediately in Charleston, S. C, the capital, $400,000 having been promptly subscribed. The new bridge over the Tay, in Scot land, is estimated to cost three million and a half dollars. A marble worker in Madison, Ind has been convicted of defacing tombstones in the cemetery in order to create busi ness for himself. The police commissioners of Cincin nati are charged with having been paid as much as two thousand dollars a month by the gamblers as blackmail. The public debt of the United States is $68 per head ; of Spain, $154 ; of France, $136 ; of England, $136 ; of Holland, $114 ; of Canada, $28 ; of Mex ico, $s9 ; of Switzerland, $2. The Boston Post accounts for the New Yorkers paying higher salaries than any other city to their ministers by the fact that it's a heap more work to save a New Yorker than any other man. Thirty days after a Michigan man got a divorce from his wife to marry one with a handsomer face, the woman fell heir to $287,000. You bet that ex-husband feels like a man with the jumping toothache. A party of. seven Zulus, intended for exhibition purposes, have arrived in New York. There are two women and five men. Their dress is so scant inat u scarcely complies with the demands of decency. George Thomas was to wed Annie Se vern in Cairo last September, but two days before the date fixed he broke his leg. In January they tried it again and she broke an arm. They were to make a third trial on the 15th of this month, but on the 7th George broke his neck. And now the girl is heartbroken. Singing cats, roof perambulators o' nights, are common enough ; in fact, too numerous for comfort; but who ever heard of a singing dog ? John Webb, of Jef fersonville, Pa., has a common cur which has actually been taught to know one key in music from another, and will sit by a piano and sing in his peculiar lan guage and never make a discord. Emi nent musicians say it is wonderful. Scent of Dogs. Dogs not only smell odors in an occa sional way, but they likewise seem to extract a recognizable odor from almost everything, as Prof. Croom Robertson . also suggests. Anacharsis knows me when I am dressed in clothes he never saw before, by his nose alone. Let me get myself up in a theatrical costume and cover my face with a mask, yet he will recognize me at once by some, to us undiscoverable perfume. Moreover, he will recognize the same odor as clinging to my clothes after they have been taken off. If I shy a pebble on the beach he can pick out that identical pebble by scent amongst a thousand others. Even the very ground on which I have trod den retains for him some faint memento of my presence for hours afterward. The blood-hound can track a human scent a week old, which argues a delicacy of nose almost incredible to human nos trils. Similarly, too, if you watch Ana charis at this moment you will see that he runs up and down the path, sniffing away at every stick, stone and plant, as though he got a separate distinguishable scent out of every one of them. And so he must, no doubt; for if even the earth keeps a perfume of the person who has walked over it hours before, surely every object about us must have some faint smell or other, either of itself or of ob jects which have touched it. When we remember that a single grain of musk will scent hundreds of handkerchiefs so as to be recognizable even by our defec tive organs of smell, there is nothing ex travagant in the idea that passing crea tures may leave traces, discoverable by keener senses, on all the pebbles and straws which lie across the road. Thus the smells which mako up half of the dog's picture of the universe are prob ably just as continuous and distinct as the sights which make up the wholo picture in our own case, and which doubtless coalesce with the other half in the canine mind. Harper's Weekly
The Chatham Record (Pittsboro, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
April 14, 1881, edition 1
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