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VOL. XI.
ITLTSIJORO CHATHAM CO., N. C, JUNK 1.5, 1889.
NO. 11.
tracts will bo made.
$l)e l)atl)am tUcorb.
II. -A. LONDON,
EDITUK AND ritOPRIETOH.
TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION,
mm
Love Mo,
I wander through the blooinhig woods
Where no unhallowed thought intrudes
And song mid kii usli ; iu full in floods;
I hrar among the budding tree
C'onti tit mi lit sighing in tin- bns'ze,
And even tin' winds reprove me,
For frying nut 'mid scenes lik i the to,
"Iovo me! Ijiivimii'! Iivoni"!"
I mingle wi:li, jut walk nmrt,
Tim crowds that throng t ho b isy mart,
And silout bear my In-caking h"int,
And live (Hi, life! willi pain replete,
Bo lly Kid, so md!j sttivt,
Willi nnly diii' hope tn m ivn mi",
These o lining Ii uri throbs still rtqieat,
"Love me! Ixivi! me! Iivumi'!"
Tin1 iiniims if the ilny nro f nrliil
And night enshrouds tln sli-eping wuild,
Hut Mill, like restless billons Inn led
Upon I ho shore; my spirit flic,
From Klnr to star with weary eyes
Through (he pitying sties above mo
And in its Implies anguish erics,
"Love lite! I.nvo me! Live me!'
.V. .1. Fulsnin in AIIiihIh Cunslilutiun.
The Story of a Picture.
11 V II. E. CI.AM1.
It is tilimtt 10 o'clock p. in., the hour
whin li.'o in its lightest ami most frivol
ous form is on parade in thu tipp'r part
of the city's great artery of trallie
Hroadway.
Madison square is brilliant with a
thousand lights; tho .Teat lintels are
throned w ith idle groups, while tip and
down tho sidewalks continues, t lie steady
ftrenm of foot passenger which will not
diminish much before mid light. The
crowd upon the pavements an 1 in the
hotels is freqii 'iitiy nugmeutu I' for a few
minutes by persons leaving the theatres
in the vicinity during thu entr'acte fir
an airing, refreshments or cigars.
The crowd on promenade is a motley
one, composed for the most part of well
ilrc -sol men and women, and from the
animated tones and gestures, the gay
jests and light laughter, distinguishable
above tho steady trump of feel, tho rat
tling of cab wheels and tho jngling of
car beds, one might think that care
rested but lightly upon the shoulder of
most who are here.
Among Iho crowd of busy talkers,
thoughtless idlers and devotees of pleas
ure, walking at n leisurely pace and
with a thoughtful air, c.imes a man
who-ic ge, lius has already made his name
a household word in many lauds. It is
(ieoffrey Vail, ti e mint. Tho hind
some, scholarly face, w.th its delicate
white complexion, its large, soft, black
eyes and sweeping blick must it-he
vhieh fringes his scu-itivc mouth, li s
guileful carriage and the plain but fault
less stylo of his attire, stamps him easily
as a man of superior type even to those
who do not recogniz- in the 1 mo indi
vidud the well-known figure of metro
politan life.
Above tho jargon of f nun Is in Ih .
streets rise occas o'uilly from a side
street tha ton 's of a piano org i i, ne
c.itnpatiicd by the vohe of u person
singing siJinn Italian songs. The artist
pause for a monint to listen to tho un
usually pathetic ring of thii voice, and
as he a;i roaches it is stuick by the ap
pearance of the singer. It is a young
girl, about sixteen years of nge, w ith a
Madonna like face touched with a look
of most exquisite sonow. Is it possible
that tho coarse-looking Italian yon ler
can have any connection with this Lively
child! It is not of this the nrti,t thinks
as ho lingers, throwing coins into the old
man's hat. It is of how that lovely face
would look on canvas!
Suddenly the gill sees his ardent gaze
and her eyes droop to the ground,
while a color like the first blush of sun
rise mantles her check. The artist is yet
more charmed, although ho diverts his
gaze, still following tho couple from
street to street.
Finally tho organ is closed up and the
two ierformers prepare to go home.
Goeffrey Vad approaches the Italian as
ho is about to go and touches him upon
tho shoulder.
"Is it your daughterl'' he asks, point
ing to the girl.
The roan nods his head.
"I nm an nitist and would like to
paint her picture," said (icofTrey.
Tho man shook his head in disap
proval. "If you will allow her to come to tin
st.idio every day for a mouth I will pay
you liberally.''
"How much?' ns'.cd the mnii.grullly.
'Ono huadrel dollars," answered
the nitist after a moment's reflect ion.
"Sho would earn me more than that
with the orgaa."
"Then we will say two hundred."
The mrm'sgrccl was sat is lied, and he
Consented to the terms.
"Whcu shall she commence?''
"Tomorrow, if it suits you," said the
artist.
''Very well," answered the man, and
(IcofTrey handed him hU card.
Geoffrey turned homewards, pleased
with his discovery. For a long time he,
had meditated painting a strict cf
plctuies representing tho unotious
'Uwo is nil 'Auiftl of borrow' ideal
ized already," ho said to himself as he
pursued his way through tho still
crowded thoroujdifarc home.
The pretty Italian found (Ieoffrey
Vail in his studio awaiting her visit on
the following day.
Tho strong light in tho studio, where
the curintns were purposely drawn
back, revealed to the artist that ho had
not been deceived with regard to her
appearance. The face was delicate, re-
lined and indoscr bably sal.
She ha I evidently put on her best
clothes a dress of soinn soft black stuff
and a shawl of the same sable hue
wrapped round her head mid shoulders.
"You have ose I as a model before?''
asked Geoffrey, noting tho artistic cf
fort of this simple costume.
"No," said the g ill, "never before."
"What is your uainei" asked the
artist.
1 Consuelo."
"Consti'do," repeated the artist, "and
you look inconsolable."
The girl did not mi lerdand his re
mark, but her large dark eyes were
turned upon him wonderingly.
"Well, Consuelo, we imi't make the
best of our time," said the nitist.
"Com.', I will nira ige you as I wish you
lo sit," and he placed a chair for her,
arranging with somi care her attitude
mi 1 di apery.
"Vou do not feel timi 1, do you?"
asked liei ITiey, kindly.
"(Mi, no," answered Ih" girl, looking
nt him with w inder again. It nas in-
ci necival le to her that sho should feel
timid in his pieseme.
Til'! grave, gentle fate of the nrtist
had won her conrtdente couipletnly. Ac
customed to rough looks and sometimes
h'ows, the child serine I in tin; atmos
phere of this elegant s'udii) to breathe
the air of paradise.
liu' the look of sorrow di 1 not leave
her face; it was too deeply imprinted
there.
Geoffrey wns toon busy with his pen
cil. An artist, his soul was in his art.
To him the iiiiim ile beauty w as only a
steppmg-stone to the inanimate, every
thing lovely create 1 that it might be
copied on the canvas and immortalized.
Co'isie lo's silt in-; w as not n long one.
He thought it best not In tiro her too
much ti n til day, and at the end of the
third hour rose from his easel, and
thanking her, di-m'nul her till the
morrow.
'Vou will come again, won't you?"
said Geoffrey.
The girl's link answered him.
For tho first time that she could re
member Cm, socio went lo her miserab o
home happy. A new vista had been
opene 1 to her. She had caught a
glimpse of another world with which
she seemed lo fed sum; strange kin-
ship.
How gladly those days glided by
while the Angel of S rrow, half real and
half the eiva' ion of thu artist's super.)
fancy, grew upi n the cauva-!
The hist sitting cam J. Artist an I
model were tJ part.
Geoffrey, who had grown familiar
with the child, took lcr hand in his
own when he bade her adieu. Sudden
ly C.msuelo burst i ito tears.
The artist hims lf felt imexp"ctly and
strangely moved. Even to him the
pariing seeme I painful. Why? lllind
egotist! uikiiown to himself ho ha 1
learned to love. O.ily at this crisis did
the truth dimly dawn upon him. Itut
why these tears of hers! Strange infat
uation! T.ieii the child must love him
also.
She hill turned away to weep.
"I'oiiMit'lo," he sai I gravely, "come
here. ''
Consuelo came at his bidding.
"Look at me straight in tho faci"
"I cannot," she sobbed.
"(Vnsuel.i, why do you weep."
Tho face oull bu doubted no longer
except by the I 1 n I.
(leolTrey folde I her tcadeily in his
arms, unresi ,te 1. Thu lovely head
r s'ed upon his b isoin. His lips were
pressed to the blushing cheek,
'Consuelo, would you like t) stay
here always tube my wife?" ho said
rather nervously, half frightened him
self. Tile girl looked nt him and seemed to
maVe some sudden resolve.
Withdrawing herself from his cm
braeo she wiped her eyes, and then
without another word or look fled from
the studio.
' Sho is frightened, but I mint follow
her,'' said tho artist. How soon she
had b-coino infinitely precious to him!
lie hastened to tho door, but no trace of
Consuelo could lie sie i. lie paused to
reflect. He did not know even her ad
dress. Tuc Italian had already railed
for his money. How should ho find
her? What strange impulse ha I caused
her to turn and lly so suddenly. It was
iniuplicahlo, bu" ho must fin I a key to
the mystery. II w? Would she not re
t.irn to her old avocation, accompany
ing the organ! Ii he icirthel the
street for a few days hs would soon
meet her again.
But dikvs. weeks aud mouths rolled
by, and no trace of Consuelo or tin
Italian rewarded his anxious search.
Ho his passion died away into a viigui
and hopeless regret. Nothing remained
of Consuelo but the blending of hei
beauty with hi own dreams in the
picture. So ho devoted himslf with re.
newed ardor to his favorite pursuit!.
Tin "Angel of Sorrow" was completed;
extravagant oiler wcro made for it, but
tht picture was not for sale. Sloncy
could not buy it.
It was hung in tho artist's own studio
his greatest achievement and many
wondered ns they gazed upon the sor
rowful facs whence cam. 'thu inspiration
for it.
Geoffrey Vail received ninny visitors
nt his studio. AVenlthy patrons and
peisonal friends brought others often to
see the great artist's worlis, often sndl
interrupting him when he wished to be
alone, but always courteously received.
Five years had gono by since his bricl
love dream had had its sudden birth and
tragic fmnlc.
His gentle fnco had grown gentler,
and perhaps a tinge of sadness had crept
in between the handsome lines; but he
had little to complain of so fur ns suc
cess was c incc ne I.
lie is busy in his studio when some
callers nro announced. They arc
foreigners, evidently, from their names.
Geoffrey glanc!9 rarelvssly at tho card,
and, not recognizing the names, is about
to excuse himself, but suddenly change)
his mind.
His visitors are shown into the studio.
A gctitiem in, rdiiiel and distinguish
ed in apjie trace", and n lady some
years his junior. A white veil partly
secludes tho lady's face.
Gei ff.ey bows politely, and advances
to meet them us tlcy nro announced.
Tiie gentleman, s; t aking in French,
npnlogi 1 for their intrusion and asks
permission to look at some t f the artist's
work, and the lady, who has observed
tho artist's favorite picture, leads her
companion towards it. After viewing it
for some minutes nn I exchanging re
marks of admiration in their own
tongue, the gentleman, turning to Geof
frey, asks him if tho picture can be
purchased.
"On no cnusiib ration," repliel the
artist. "It is reserved at a price which
even the most extravagant would never
rare to go to."
"Which means that you :hi not wish
to sell it," replied his visitor.
The artist bowed in acquiescence.
"And did you ever ee a f u o which
suggested such beauty?" nsked his visi
tor, adding "Pardon me, but I have a
purpose in inij'ining.
"I have seen one," replied the artist,
with which this creation of mine could
but feebly c uinare."
As he said this his cyj cnught t :o
face of tho lady who had remove 1 her
veil.
"C.msuelo!" cried the artist, forget-
ting his visitors for a moment."
Hut they were smi ing nt him pleas
antly.
'I'ardon me," ho Paid. "Sumo fan
cied resemblance compelled in .' to utter
that name."
The lady approached nearer io him.
"Do you not remember me, theu?''
she said, softly.
The artist looked pu.zhd and per
plexed.
"Surely it is Consuelo; but, pardon
me, you havo changed your name.''
An I be glanced significantly at her com
panion. "Ah! and you are no more tho
Angel of Sorrow; you might now pose
for tho Angel of Joy."
Consueld teemed to enjoy his per
plexity. "And have not you found u
truo Consuelo also?" sho asked laugh
ingly. i ho nrtist shook h s head sadly.
"I'apa, this is Mr. Vail, " said Con
suelo, turning to her companion, who
offered his hand to Geoffrey with a pious
ant smile.
'Vou are wondering what it all
mean"," (aid Consuelo, a'so smiling;
but it is a long story ; npa will toll you
while 1 look nt some pictures round the
studio, mid if you wish to repeat tho
pies' ion you risked so long ago, which I
uevcr answered, repeat it lo h'm-"
The story was briefly told.
Consuelo hid been kidnapped from
her home in Italy and shipp d to New
York. After many years she had been
truvl and returned to her parents.
She had fled from Geoffrey's prcsenej
because ashamed of her humble origin
and parentage, believing the padrone'
to be her father, and had bcon rescued
immediately afterward .
In Italy sho had been educated, pre
viously ex ict ing from her father a
promise that as soon as her education
was completed ho would bring her to j
New York. j
Such a story could have but one so- I
quel a happy marriage. It win
assuredly a happy one, aud poon after
it Geoffrey commenced tho twin picture.
Jf Ytt Mtrcury.
The long and the short of it Yhe
roeasuretnettU be a ways.
CHILDREN'S COLUMN.
TIIK PAIlAliON UK 1IOVH.
I wond-T if you have swii liini too
Th- l ly h h i is nut too bi
Kr a iimrnin kiss from mother and sis,
Itut KentV and strong, and the whole (ley
loeg
As h ppy .is happy t an be
A K'" it Ionian, dears, in th mining years,
And nt pr s ail thu boy for ine
t'uHfi's littnner.
A (TNNINt! CHOW.
A lame cr tw w ho housed himself un
der an ol I lounje in L twis'.on, Me.,
suffered from the family chickens, who
stole tho corn feltohiin faster than he
could devour it. Hut he biilU.tl their
thieving tendencies after n day or two,
n.s soon ns his food was served to him
by lugging it under the lounge out of
their reach. When the bens then came
around he wold sit and lake a mouthful
then chuckle mil chatter with manifest
enj lynient because he hat outwitted them.
TIIIC Don AMI tin; 11KF.S.
Dogs and other animals sometimes
serve as the mediums for giving lessons
to the wi-cst of us. Here is a good bit
of philos.iphy in one of Mr. Ilicrce'g
fables: A dog, being annoyed by bees,
ran quite accidentally into an empty bar
rel lying on the ground, nn 1, looking
out nt the bung-hole, a I dressed his tor
mentors thus:
"Had you been temperate, slinging
mo only one lit a time, you might have
got a gond deal of fun out of mo. As
it is, yiiihavi! driven mo into a secure
lei rent; for I can snap you as fast ns you
tome in through the bung hole. Ile-
pliold the folly of intemperate zeal!"
When lie had concluded ho awaited a
teply. There wasn't any reply; for the
bees had never gone near the bung-hole;
th"y went in lies same way ns ho did and
ma lo it very warm for him.
The le'son of this fable is that one
cannot stick to his pure reason while
quarreling with bees.
IIUKK FOX'S l'ltAITICAI, ,IOKK.
Ono day the Hear met the Fox, who
came si inking idling with a string of
fish he hud stolen.
' 'Where did you get those?" nsked
the Hear.
"Oh, my Lord Hruin, I've been out
fishing and caught them," said the
Fox.
So the Hear had a mind to learn to
fish, too, an I bade the Fox tell him how
he wns to set about it.
"Oil, it's an easy craft for you," nn
iiwered the Fox, "and soon learned.
You've only got to go upon the ice and
cut a hole nnd stick your tail down into
it, nnd so you must go on holding it
there as long as you can. You're not to
mind if your tail smarts a little; that's
when the fish bile. Tho longer you hold
it there the moro fish you'll get; then
nil nt once out w ith it with a cross-pull
sideways, and with ft strong pull, too."
Yes, the Hear di I as the Fox had
said, and held his tail a long lime down
in the hole till it was fast frozen in.
Then ho pulled it out with a cross-pull,
nnd it snapped short ell. That's why
Hruin goes about with a stumpy tail
this day.
STII AN'liK COMPANION!,.
The first public exhibit ion of a "Hap
py Family" in England was given about
fill years ago, when there were show n n
monkey, a cat, several ruts, and three or
f ur pigeons in ono cage. The monkey
was on excellent terms with the cat, so
long ns puss would allow him to warm
himself by cuddling her. Otherw ise he
would show his vex it inn by slyly giving
her tail a nip with his teeth.
Tho birds perched on the cat's buck
and pecked at her fur, and tho rats
were as friendly with their natural en
emy ns if she were ono of their own
sort.
A lady, walking on the Is'e of Wight,
observed a little kitten curled up on a
in issy bank, taking a midday imp. As
she stopped to stroke it, a hawk swooped
down, and pouncing upon tho kitten,
hid it from sight.
Tho lady, fearing for tho lifo of the
kitten, tried to rest u it, but the hawk
firmly faced her, stood at bay, and re
fused to move. She hastened to a fish
erman's cottage and tol 1 the inmates of
tho impending tragedy.
".t's always so," said they, laughing;
"that hawk always coma down if any
one joes near the kitten. He has taken
to it, and stays near tit hand to watch
whenever it goes to sleep."
Tho lady, greatly interested, mad?
further inquiries, and learned that tho
kitten's mother had d cd, after which
the nursling wai missed for several days.
Ono day the hnnk was seen ahou' tho
cottage picking up tcraps of meat ami
carrying thctn to the nof of the cottage.
The fisherman climbed up a. id found
the lost kitten lustled in a hole in tha
thatch, and thriving under the caro of
its strange foster-father. It was brought
down and restored to the cottage. Hut
the hawk would not resign his charge,
ami was always nt hand to rescue the
kitten from thu cur esses of etiuuger
THE SLAVE MARCH.
Terrible Trials of Captives in the
African Coast Trade.
A Blow In the Head Ends the
Troubles of tho Weak.
"Yes, I have seen tho terrible slave
march," said Mr. II. F. Moir, who for
in my yenrs has traveled abroad, sj end
ing more or less time in Africa. lie was
speaking of the suffering of those cap
tives who carry great burdens across the
deserts in the African coast trade. Mr
Jl iir ii a resident of New York Suite,
and last night in tho lobby at the Grand
Hotel entertained n few friei.d with ii
recitil of some of his adventures.
"When the slaves are captured," he
said, "they are taken to thu headquar
ters of thu cast coast traders. There a
yoke is placed about their neck, nnd is
ullowcd to remain night and day with
out being once takea oil. Tho constant
rubbing upon tho neck chafes the skin,
and gradually ugly wounds begin to
fester under tho burning African sun
shine. Tho men who appear the
strongest, and who.,o escape is
feared, have their hands tied, and
sometimes their feet, in such fashion
that walking becomes a torture to them,
and on their necks are placed the terri
ble goree or taniing-sticks. The yoke is
a young tree with forked branches. It
is generally nb Mil live or six feet long,
and from threi to four inches in diame
ter. One which I exam ned not long
ago wns iibi iit twenty-eight pounds in
weight, but I urn told that refractory
slave! oie often placed in yoliei weigh
ing li.ty pounds or more. Through each
prong of the fork is a hole bored for the
reception of an iio'i pin, which, af crthe
neck ( f the slave has been placed in the
folk, is mado secure by a blacksmith.
The opposite end is lashed to the corre
sponding end of another yoke, in the
fork of which another slave is held, and
thus tho poor creatures have to mart h,
earning besi lea this intoler ible weight,
a loud of provision or ivory slung across
tho center of the pole. Other slaves are
in gangs of about a dozen each, with an
iron collar let into a long iron chain.
"Are m lies alou a of these captives?"
nlked an !' ij'iIht reporter, who was
one of the party.
"No, indeed,'' said Mr. Molr. "Wo
men slaves nro p'cnliful. A man with
any spirit can searce'y trust himself to
look nt the starling of one of thu cara
vans. 1 accompanied one which con
tained many women. They are all fas
tened to chains or thick bark ropes.
Very many t f the women in thu caravan
to which I refer, in addition In their
heavy weight of grain or ivory, cairiul
their little brown babiei. The
double weight was nlmo-t too much,
and still th-y struggle wearily on
knowing too well tint when they showed
signs of fat i no, not thu slaver's ivory,
but the living child, would be torn
from them nnd throw n asi le to die.
One poor old woman I could not help
noticing. Shu was carrying a baby boy
who should hive been walking,
but whose thin, weak legs had evidently
given way; she was tottering already; it
was the supreme effort of a mother's
love and nil in vain, for tho child,
easily recognizable, was brought into
camp a couple of hours later by one of
our hunters, who had found him on the
path. We had him cared for, but his
poor mother would never know.
During three days' journey out from
Lh'iulwe death freed many of the enp
tivis. It was well for tin m; still we
could not help shuddering as in the
darkness we heard the how 1 of the hye
nas along tho tiaek, an I realized only
too fully the re:.s n why. The attach
ment of the children to their mothers
and the mothers' determination not to
be patted from their children," contin
ued the traveler, "combine to carry them
along with the slave caravan '.hat is, si
long as their pour littlj legs can bear
them."
"How can the slaves keep up under
their burdens? ' was asked.
"They do net do it long,'' was the
answer. "Tii'y n.arih nil day, and
at night, when they stop, a few hamlfuls
of raw 'sorgho' nro distributed nmong
them, and this is nil their fo id. As soon
as any begin to fail, their conductors
approach those who appear to be most
exhausted and deal them a terrible blow
on the nape of the neck. A singlo cry,
and tho victim) fall to the ground in the
convulsions tif death. Terror for a time
inspires the weakest with new strength,
but tach time one brea'is down the ter
rible set'Tie is repeated. A friend of
mine told mo that once when traveling
in Central Africa let was obliged to at
tach himself to aa Arab slave gang, nnd
that tho drivers deliberately cut the
th'iits of those who could not march.
I have also been informed," said Mr.
Moir, "that in Central Africa these
slave-drivers have been known to cut off
an a in cr any limb with one blow from
their swords." Cnemntti Enquirer,
Tho IMble In the Frozen North.
At Norway Housi1, on a certain occa
sion, snys .Mr. Kertnn Young, mission
ary of tha Canada Methodist Church
there, a number of Indians came into
my room, n liselessly, after their fashion,
so that the roim was filled with them
before I knew it. V, .! I h.'cnme
aware of their presence i a lied whence
they were. "From n journey of four
teen nights," tiny repliel, for they
reckon distance by the number of nights
they are delayed to sleep.
"We have got the Ke seiiaychen (tho
Great Hook), but we don't understand
it, although we can road it." I thought
they werj joking, for thu Indians can
not read unloss some one has taught
them, and I knew from their account
hey mujt livo far away from any mis
sionary; but I asked them: "From what
missi nary did you learn?" "We never
saw a missionary nor a teacher." I took
down from my shelf our Hibb1, printed
in tho lie .nt i fill syllabic character of
the Crec language, and opened to Gene
sis; they read it with casj and conect
nessj. I turned the pages, and they read
in many places.
I was nmazel, nnd niked them again
where they lived. They described it to
me. It was far away, north of Hudson's
Hay, hundreds of miles from any mis
sionary. Their hunting grounds, it
seem, ndjoin those of some Christian
Indians they cover great distances in
hunting and, ontinued my visitors,
"We visited your Indians and found that
they had thu Kesenaychen. We got
them to lead it irid then to tench it to
us, and wo were so pleased with it that
we all learned to read it during tho
w inter."
Every soul in a village of .100 popula
tion had thus netually learned to read
the Hiblu without ever having seen any
whit" teacher; and having providential
ly com': into possession of fomo copies
that happened to bo in the hands of tho
Hudson Hay Company's agents, these
heathen Indians bad journeyed through
tho snows fourteen nights' distance, that
to them might bo given instruction in
the book they had thus learned to love.
About Slato l'eneils.
In the north-western part of the town
of Custleton, Hut and County, Vermont,
is the only manufactory of shite pencils
in the I'liited State. The slato rock ns
;4t conns Irom the quarry is first sawed
into blocks as wide ns the slate p-ncil is
long. These blocks are easily split into
slabs a little thicker than tho fm'shed
pencil, which is about live-sixteenths of
an inch. These are pas-ed through a
pl.'tningin icliinc nnd over niiemery belt,
which makes them even and smooth.
Next they are pushed into the jaws of a
machine called the "crocodile," which
consists of a pair of steel plates, in tho
under ono i f which are six rows of
curved knives, ench being set so as to
cut a little deeper than the preceding one.
These plow out parallel grooves half way
through the slab, which is then turned
and laid on a steel plate having ridges
which just fit the grooves. This slides
back under the six rows of teeth of
another "crocodile," which cuts tho
grooves on tho other side and leaves tho
square pencils sid-! by side.
They nro then rounded nnd pointed
by holding them to nn emery belt, and
one man can thus sharpen about 8,000 a
day.
This factory makes HO, 1)00 pencils
daily, nnd employs twenty live hands.
We might wonder where so many pencils
go, but when we consider that there are
1,000,000 or 2,0 )0,000 school boys and
g lis, and many of them rat iter careless,
and that slate-pencils arc easily broken,
wo have no doubt the factory will have
its "hands full" to supply the demand.
The o d way of making pencils was to
saw them out square from the slab ono
by one. They were then boxed nnd
distributed among poor families, who
whittled them round by hand for about
half a dollar per 1,0 10.
l'eneils are mado from slate much
softer than the slates up in which they
are used, and very nice pencils are made
from soaj s'one.
lliagnoslng Disease by tlio Hair.
A P.ttslmrg iloc'or says ho can ding
nt s ailments by examining a single hair
of the patient. Two young men as a
joke, took hiin a hair from a bay horse.
The doctor wrote a prescription and
said his f, e was ft! 5 as the case was pre
carious. They wire staggered but paid
the fee, and after they got out laughed
all tho way to the apothecary's. Tho
latter took the prescription and read in
iimazi iiieiit : "One bushel of tints, four
quarts cf water, stir well, nnd give three
.iti.es a tiny and turn the unimal out to
grass." Then the jokers stopped laugh
ing. t'iiV.iiij HeraU.
A Great Inducement.
Cora. "What induced you to tell
Mr. Mcrritt I went to tho party last
night with Geo.ge?''
Little Johnny. "A quarter."
Jkttur.
Tho Two Poets.
I wrrolfl not weight," one poet salil,
"Thu wing of I'uuey soaring hih
I'p the blue dome of boundless sky;
Or purt the downy plumage spread
Above her breast, even by a strand
Of silken service, w 'nipping there,
To send m ross tin- suiniii r I mil,
Sue 1 mi s tiki's tliloiih the golden air
As humbler pinions deigu to bear,
"My realm Is Hwiuty's large domain;
My service, Art, for Art s pure sake,
Thai docs nut ask, nnd w ill not take,
The low rewards of li e or gain
That owns no duty in a song
No Epic call that shall avail
'J'o urge the right, or chide tie" wrong,
Or hearten Iihk' wli-n Iiok- would fail
I sing as sings the night iiignlu."
' If tliri'U,:li my verse," nii 'thcr saier,
"A throb is felt, whose human beat
Kevenls a pui'p. se, stnmg and sweet,
To am id. nc si une deadly pang,
Or help some balling snid to reach
Finn fnollmld on the path that leads
Slarwiud, through wh.t my verso may
tench,
( lr heal the hurt that In war 1 ble d
Or spur some life to loftier deeds
"I leave eon'elit the rarer height
Of Art to such flureal souls
As beauty's liner ior infolds
III atmospheres too ke 'll of light
For earth boi ii vision. While ihey sonr,
I.ct me keep Harm within my breast
The heart throb and I ask no mure!"
Men pra'scd the I'oet; f r the its',
God loved tlie lowl.er singer b -st.
.Ui .. 1'ixsUnu
Hi.Moiiors.
Worth lots of rocks A baby.
A swallow may not make a summer,
but a frog makes a spring.
A theatrical company is chnritublo
when it plays to a poor house.
There are different vays of showing
wrath; the tea-kettle sings sweetost
when it is hottest.
The young idea may f.nictimes bo
best taught to shoot by putting it
through a course of spioii's.
Mrs. Quartcrct What is your atti
tude toward Wagner's art, professor.
Professor Haider Hands over my cars.
Miggs; "I hear a policeman was
) killed yesterday in tint discharge of his
duty." Hliggs: "He probably didu t
kn 'W it was loaded."
The m ill who was blown thirty foot
in the air out in a Pennsylvania town,
while repairing a natural gas main, re
marked that he had been thrown out of
work.
Hvtiirncd traveler: "Mr. Richman
C'Hild draw his cheek for a million when
i 1 left. How much money has he by this
time? Citizen: "He basn t any."
"Eh? Wlm Hid he fail?'' "No;
he died."
A Human Alumnae.
Hrown county, 111., has a prodigy in
thu shape of a teli-vear-old boy with n
: talent for days and date. 11 iy Odeu-
weller, soa of S. P. O leliweller of In.
i dustry township, is the infant wonder.
Give him any date in any mouth of this
; year, last year or next ye.r, and he can
I nt once tell you the day of the week
' upon which it falls or has fallen. For
; example, ask him on what day of tho
, week will Oetob'T 17, lrll), fall, and
be will promptly answer "Thursday,"
i which is correct. And so of any dato
I last year or the year to come. How ho
arrives nt the solution he docs not know.
Numerous gentlemen of undoubted ver
, ncity have repeatedly tested his strange
I power. The little fellow is a bright
youngster, but does not exhibit any un
usual precocity beyond this piculiar
j gift, lie says that beyond the threo
I yenif the current, tho last mid tho
; next he cannot give correct answers.
', Next year he w .11 lose all power over
, 1SSS (w ith which he is now conversant),
' mid his mind w ill grasp that of 1MH, of
which he now knows nothing, lie Iiiib
no r ile or met bod, imr does ho know
how he arrives nt the true answer, but it
is certain that he is correct when
: answering. Chini-jo Trihiue.
Gladstone ou Washington.
AVhi'ii 1 liist read in detail tho "Lifo
of Washington, " says William E. Glad
stone, the English statesman, 1 was pro
foundly impressed with thu moral ele
vation and g'eatnes.s of hi? character,
j and I found myself nt a loss to name,
' nmong the statesmen of any nge or
coii'itry, many, cr possibly any, who
' could be his rival. In saying this, I
mean no disparagement to the class of
I politic am, thu in -n of my own craft
! n I c'oth, whom, in my own land nnd
j ny own experience, 1 havu found no
!c s wanting than other men of lovo
I if ndmirat:im. I c uld name among
I .hem those who seem to me to conio
icnr even to him. Hut I will shut out
t lust half century from the coinpar'-
0 1. I will then say that :f, nmong ull
tho pedestals suppliel by history for
public ch'une'.eis of extraordinary no
liility nnd purity, I saw one higher than
ill the rest, and if I were required nt a
moment's notice to name tho fittest cc
r ipant for it, I think my choice, at
lay timo during t ie last forty-fivo years
would have lighted, and it would now
ijbt, upon Washington.