r
RAT
Cent
MM v
Times.
G. K. GBATHAM,
.Arm-, tt
" THE WOR'-D.
He world is well lost when the world Is
wrqns. .
o matter how inen deride vou
For If you ere patient and flrru and strong
cuwili nni in time though the time be
long)
That the world wheels 'round beside you.
If you dare to sail first o'er a new thousht
track.
For awhile it will scourge amd scora you;
Then, coming abreast with a skilful tnoV
' It will clasp your hand and slap your bac, '
Auu vow it was there before you.
Aye, many an error the old world makes
And many a sleepy blunder;
Hut ever and always at last it wakes
With pitiless scorn for another's mistakes,
And the fools who have followed go under.
The world, means well, though it wander
and stray
From the straight, short cut to duty;
So go ahead in that path, I say.
For alter awhile it will come your way,
Kriuging its pleasure and beauty.
Fl'a Whealer Wilcox, in Once-A-Week
UNDER THE PINES.
BY MANDA I,. CROCKER.
UT of the mellow;
sunshine of the'
clearing, where he
birds chirped and
the long blackberry,
vines waved in the!
odorous winds, into1
the deep shadows'
ot the gloomiest of
all gloomy places
above ground, the
ikn?e pine forest, Bernice "Winters turned
"old Ceil" -with a quick deft motion of
the firm hand holding the bridle-rein.
That, cold, lonesome feeling, .which
seeWingly belongs .to "the by-road,"
came over Her,, and she shuddered, iii
tj-ite of her 7esolution3 to not mind it
this is riding alone along the "forest
road." She had told herself many times
that the ehadpws of the tall shafted
pine3 held no more evil than the sun-
' shine of the fields she had just left be
hind her and that the weird music away
up there in the green crowns only seemed
di.-mal to her because of the deep soli
tude reigning beneath, but it was of
little use. The growing dread of this
'cut across'' amounted literally to a
strange presentiment that ' this same
forest road would bring her face to face
with well, she was unable to further
define her emotions, but it would come
one of these days. -
Her father had laughed at 'her and
called her superstitious, but in vain ; she
was the more determined -in her belief
that something dreadful, would one day
come tD her vision in the solitude 'under
the pines.
Bernice bad not always lived away up
here in the denseness of the" Michigan
woods, for close to her heart to-day lie3
the p'cture of a little home overlooking
the.b'ue waters of the broad old Con
necticut, tho dear little cottage which
her father left to strangers in his eager
ness to possess a tract of the far famed
' cheap lands of the peninsula. To be sure
it was pleasant enough,, but it wa3 just
woods; woods,' woods, with nothing but
the never ending buzz, whirr, crash,
slang and bang of the huge lumber mills
all through the country. There1 didn't
Mem io be any Sabbaths worth mention
ing outside of their little "up and down"
dwelling, and the society hero was not
to lie thought of.
It was October now and the long, dull
winter would soon be upon them; then
even these lonely rides would come
abruptly to an end for the eldest daugh
ter of the house and some one else would
go-Saturdays, for the mail if the drifts
were not too deep !n the "openings,"
.and if they were, why then it would be
y duller than ever. " ,
But "old Ceil" jogged on at a quiet
pace, with his ears forward, little know
ing what a- heavy heart, his youthful
ri-ier Tarried - or that the hand which
dropped the. rein weut up to the sad face
to brush away the 'tears. Tears Would
come, in spite" of every effort to hinder
them. They" seemed so appropriate to
1 the gloom to-day.; 'Old Ceil" could not
know; he had never been iu- Connecti
cut, had never been anywhere but in the
.-'.'North Woods," pulling his faithful life
out getting the great piue logs down to
. the restless current of thn-Miiskegou for
railing to the city below, until the aris
tocratic" Winters get hold of him, and
since then he had positively no cau30 to
grumble, v
; "Hark I Whoa, Cell!" and the hthe
form of his rider trembled like an aspen
in the wind. . "What att . awful sound
that
Mas," she' whispered, with ashen
"not so loud, no,
distress. I kaew it was
but: so full of
coming.
" But
sbe tried 'to be' brave "and
patted the
torse on the neck; as if to' reassure him
of her safety? . . -
l"p in th "dark tops the. winds moaned
and sobbed inr loremh requiem and the
shadows gathered darker and denser as
if determined to shut out even, the dim, '
stray, silvery gleams struggling here and
there through the billowy canopy above
and seeking to ki9s into fuller crimson
the. "squawberries" clustering 'mong
their green vines oa -,th&. yellow carpet.
Tutrc! came that sound again, plainer
than before, and Bernice peered among
the trees atdier left, -for the sound, as of
some one in-v deep pain, came from that
Porter, while- all the stories of murders
and adventures that she had ever read
or heard rushed across her mind.
Old Cell, too,; had caught the sound
anu turned half way .'round, as if bent
oa investigation also
''I don't, know what to do;'I wish
father were here; it would be wrong, to
foone and leave any one to die out here
in this awful place." Bernice sobbed
out these disconnected sentences in a
strange, smothered voice and slipped
down from the saddle, holding on to the
bridle-with a grip born of terror.
There was a lull in the requiem over
head, and once more came the sound,
this time seeming to resolve itself into
ords, and Bernice thought she heard
we cry of "HelDjI injthepitilnilaiaeat..
Editor
Old Ceil sniffed the air and gave a low
whinny as if he understood the wholo
matter. His seeming interest gave cour
age to Bernice, and she stepped out
among the trees, leaving hirrvto wait' or
follow as he chose.!
On she went, in the direction . from
which came the moan at little interval,
rousing all her sympathies with its plain,
tiveness. "Where are you?" she shouted,
presently,' unable'to kep silent" longer,
and feeling that she must scream if she
did not speak. r
"Here!" came in answer close at hand,
and a step further brought her to the
foot of a huge pine, at whoso baie lay
the outstretched forrn of a young man.
His face, turned toward her, wa3 white
and drawn frohr suffering, and the-Jblood
was trickling .from an ugly wound just
above the right temple.
"Don't be 'afraid of me, but help me
if you can," he said with aneilort, hold
ing out his hand. - -
Bernice had paused, struck dumb at
the sight of the blood dropping from the
white, suffering face, .but the tones
roused her to action. She stepped for
ward and knelt down by the unfortunate
man, forgetting all her terror in the great
sympathy taking possession of her whole
beinir.
'How did you get hurt?" she asked,
at the same time taking off her white
cambric apron and tearing it in two for
a bandage for the wounded head.
"If I remember right," he answered,
"some one struck me, for T mind of fall
ing in the path. Isn't there a path here
somewhere?" he questioned in a faint
voice, as if in doubt concerning his own
statement.
"Yes, a few steps to cur right is the
forest road leading out to. the high
way," answered Bernice, adjusting the
bandage with skillful touch.
"Well, I remember of falling, and
that is all. When I came to myself again
Lwas lying here with a terrible pain in;
my head and my watch and purse are
missing. I guess I've been robbed and
left for dead by some 'scoundrel."
"Most likely; but you are not dead,"
ohe returned, "for which I am htartily
glad."
Are yOu?" he asked, in a low, earn
est tone, which sent the hot blood to her
white face, and made the hand tremble
which folded the cambric over the, ugly
wound. -
'Yes, most certainly I am. glad; no
one wants the ghost of a murdered man
wandering in these woods. They're
gloomy enough now'
'To be sure 'they are," he assented
""I wonder if I could stand up for a mo
ment?" He reached out his hands to Bernice;
who had risen, ,and was debating what
to do next, saying: "Please assist ae a
little and I will get up:"
She gave him her hand, but it was of
no use, for with a moan he reeled toward
her. She caught him and he slipped to
the earth from her arms in a half faint
ing condition.
"You will have to have help; you are
hurt worse than you think for," sho
said, kneeling down by him again and
folding her wraps in pillow form and
placing them under his head.
"Yes," lie murmured, "and I'll de
pend on you. If I'm not alive when you
return," he added, as she turned .away,
"tell them that Bernard Hope was mur-:
dered here for his money. My mother
lives in Gene3see, N. Y.
"Oh! you must not die; it must not
be," she' replied impulsively. "I have
a horse and will bring help speedily ; I
don't live far from here."
Whether he heard or not Bernice
could not tell; he only moaned a little
and closed his eyes.
"He has fainted 1" she wailed, the old
terror taking possession of her. "Poor
fellow. Oh, I must hurry. Here,
Ceil," and she whistled softly to the old
creature who wa3 waiting near the path
and wondering what had become of his
mistress.
In a moment Bernice was in the sad
dle and was urging the dumfounded
animal forward at a swifter pace than he
remembered of since he came among the
Winters. She did not mind the gloom,
nor the surging of the winds in the dark
tops now; there was a life hangiug on
her efforts, perhaps. Over the pine
roots flew the feet of "old Ceil," until
Bernice drew rein at the edge of the
forest where her father and his "help"
were felling timber. To them she told
her story as well as her excitement per
mitted, adding, in a short, wretched
aside, "I knew it would come some
time, this awful thing." In a short
time they were following her flying
footsteps as she retraced the. gloomy by
road. One of the men had been dis
patched to the house for a heavy
blanket, from which to improvise a
stretcher, and now brought up the rear
on "old Ceil," who imagined that the
whole "Winters relationship, had go.
mad.
"Here he is." cried Bernice, running
forward to v.here the prostrate but r
viving victim lay.
"You have come," he said as she bent
ever him and again the surging of the
rich color went over her fair face.'
Tiiere was a magnatism in his tones,not
withstanding the pain in the accents,
that made her heart throb and pulse
quicken strangely. "Yes," she an
swered, and their eyes met. He reached
up his hands to her as the color mount
ed to her temples, with an eloquent ap
peal in look and manner.
"Well, my young fellow, you've been
in rather a hard row lately, I should
say," said Mr. Winter?.
. "Yes, they came near finishing me,
I think." " , , ,
"Well, wellsee what can be.done for
you,'' and in a short time they had
placed him on the blanket and taking
hold o the four corners bore him away
from the gloomy spot where he came
near stepping from this land Into the
unknown.
; The physician said that he must have
been struck with an iron, bolt, but none
could tell much about it and no trace ot
the murderer could be found.
But under the kind care of competent
curses Bernard Hope gained rapidly and
Kender Unto Caesar
DUNN,
was soon able to be able to be about.
One bright afternoon ' he walked out
leaning on the arm of Bernice, who ac
companied; him in his little "outing"
during his convalescence. .
'You will write a letter for me to
day, will you not?" he asked, pausing to
get a rtch cluster of bitter-sweet berries
from a swinging vine, "my head isn't
just right, now, somehow, and mother
will be anxious to know where I am.
Mother is all I have now and I love her
dearly." He sighed and lcoked away
towards the pines, but Bernice was lis
tening attentively and noticed the sad
ness creep into his closing words.
"Yes, certainly, I will do anything
for you," she answered in herimpulslve
way.
"Will yon?" he asked, turning quickly
and looking wistfully into her face.
Again the hot flush suffused cheek and
brow. Bernice had a way of blushing
when the frank, clear eye of Bernard
Hope rested on her and to-day it vexed
her exceedingly.
"Let us go in," she said abruptly,
pretending ndjt to hear his last question,
"and I will write your letter at once."
"Thank you, you are so kind," wa3
all he said, as they - turned toward the
bouse, but there was a caress in every
word as it fell from his lips, and she felt
that this stranger loved her.
"Tell her," he said, dictating the
letter, over which Bernice held the pen,
"tell her to seud me a check lor a couple
of thousand dollars, as the rascal has
every cent I had. I can get it cashed at
at Muskegon, of course?" he said ab
sently, as if thinking of something else.
"Ah I yes, the 'Sawdust City' never
fails in an accommodation; even sends
pickpockets after one'through the 'for
est road,' " replied Bernice, mischiev
ously. ne looked across the writing-table at
her a moment and then said, "may be it
was the luckiest tap I ever had."
Bernice met his earnest glance and
the "Why?" which trembled on her lips
was forgotten, or perhaps answered be
fore asked, and she bowed hastily over
the unfinished letter.
"I was thinking," he said presently,
i'of that day in the forest. Do you
krow, I almost forgot that I was hurt
when you came back to me? Your eyes
held such a magnetism for me that I
held up my hands to you involuntarily
i a great desire to always be near you
3 over me. Perhaps I ought not to
ou this just yet, but I cannot keep
.the secret from you any longer. 1 al
most love the spot where I lay. because
it was there that I met Bernice."
She did not answer. He expected
her to. speak,' but a great lump came in
her throat and she sat silent and speech
less. ; He intended to say more, but her
seeming indifference checked him and he
got up and went over to the open win
dow and sat down wearily.
He was so weak, too, and some way
his temple pained him yet. So he bowed
his head to the window ledge.
The dark red of the ugly scar showed
plainly on the white brow turned next
to .her, and Bernice felt as if she ought
to go to him and apologize or say some
thing, at least. She watched the silent
figure nervously, thinking ot how this
this one honest heart had drifted into
her life and back -from the gates of
death. ,
"Shall I mail your letter to-day?" she
asked finally, not daring to risk anything
else in words, but her voice was tear
derer than usual and there was some
thing, in the tones which made hira loo!c
up suddenly, with a wild hope at his
beating heart. Her ,rfac3 was turned
away, however, and as yet he could not
not be certain of anything.
"If you please." He answered her so
long after she had asked the question
that she had thought he did not hear.
"If I please," she said softly, turning
.to meet that wistful, entreating look
she was sure was there. Ah I the truth
and love shining in the depths of the
dark eyes and all for her. She went
over to him and stood still, looking
down on the dark rings of brown hair
just touching the ugly scar. "If 1
please," she repeated. "Certainly, I
will do anything for you."
"Do you feel that way I" he asked
joyfully, raising his head. "You have
said that twice to me to-day and I well,
if you feel that way, kiss me, Bernice,
please I"
She hesitated a moment, then im
printed a little frightened kiss on the
broad forehead, close to the dreadful
scar.
"Oh I Bernice, you do love me; what
can I ask more?" and he held up his
hands much the same as once before
that gloomy hour under the pineJ.
"I might have kissed you from pity,"
she said, looking down and taking his
willing hands in her own pinkxpalrus.
"No I others might have done that,
but not you, Bernice, ngtyou."
"You aie weak and tired," she said,
ignoring his words; "pow head, you
had better lie down and rest." Then,
with a gentle carress of the white,
scarred brow, she turned to adjust the
cushions on the couch nearby. "Come,"
she said,, "you are all wearied out, Ber
nard," and the look on her face satisfied
him that henceforth their paths would
never need diverge. ,
"I am very happy,1 he said, closing
his eyes, "too happy to be tired, and the
pain in my heart is gone."
Bernice had not been so happy either
for many months perhaps never so hap-,
py, but she wondered quietly to herseU
if that little kiss on the wounded head
had brought it all about.
"I am going, now," she 8id, coming
toward him. -
"Wait a moment. Come closer."
He reached out his hand to W as she
came to his side. "I want toalways be
near you; I have given myself to you;
will you take me, Bernice?"
The questioning magnetism of the
earnest ejes added their power to the
interrogative she hardly expected not
just yet. .
But, after all, why was it needful tc
hesitate? Bending over the upturned
face, as she had once before, only tin
the Things that aw Caesar's,
HART CO., THURSDAY, JANUARY 5, 1893.
other time savored of the gloom oi
death, while this time well, this time,
was the "silver lining," and while their
eyes met she answered him in her low,
weet voice. 'I will take you, Ber
nard." That youngster ha3 been over to the
city to-day and purchased that whole
tract of land lying over there, alongsids
of ours, mother." Abraham Winters
said to his wife one afternoon late in
.November, "and hes going to bring one
of the slashingest mills in here this win
ter that this neck o! woods ever saw, I
reckon."
"You always hated that strip o' pine
lumber." he continued, turning to his
daughter, "but the carse resolved itself
a n ....
into a aouoie oiessing
But she was lookin
V Tic m t ra f
rr nti f t r 4-ha nri m
dow, down the oath
Ibading out under
the pme3, and Bernard Hope was com
ing out of their shadows, whistling
softly and thinking of her. She was
sure of it, and hen ne looked up he
answered both with a smile New York
Mercury. ' "
Trire.
We have been challenged to pronounce
an opinion on the dietetic virtues of
tripe, an article of food which is largely
consumed in certain parts of the country,
especially during the winter months.
Tripe consists of the soft muscular walls
and mucous membrane of the stomach of
ruminant animals, with a small propor
tion of delicate omental fat adhering,
from which, however, all fibrous portions
of the serous covering, or peritoneum,
have been removed. From frequent ex
periments it has been proved that tripe
stands high in the list of albuminous
substances that are quickly acted on by
the gastric juice and reduced to a state
ot solution, and.has, therefore, acquired
a reputation for digestibility. But plain
boiled tripe in itself is a very insipid
article of food, and in order to make 'it
palatable the art of the cook has to be
invoked, which, while making it more
"savory," causes it often, when so
served, to be an offense to the stomach.
The usual mode of serving tripe iu this
country is to boil it with milk and
onions, and there can belittle doubt that
sucha combination is not particularly
digestible. Tripe is also sometimes fried
in batter, but unless very carefully cook ed
t is apt to become leathery.- If only
plainly boiled in water it requires a. con
siderable amount of condiments in the
shape of salt, pepper and mustard: to
make it acceptable to the palate. There
fore, tripe as usually cooked, though an
excellent dish foiy strong stomachs, is,
owing to the ingredients added to it, not
always so suitable for persons of weak
digestion as has been supposed. London
Lancet.
A Girl's Ileftdaclie-Cnriug Hands.
There is a girl in San Francisco who
can cure headaches cure them without
a bit of medicine. She just lays her'
hand on the aching head and that settles
the whole matter. There's something
peculiar about the girl's hands. They
are white and shapely and very nice to
look at, but to touch ugh 1 they're a3
cold as ice. More than that,, they are
always dripping wet, these strange
hands. It's an eerie thing to see a
handsome, healthy girl lift her hands
and let an icy dew fall from the ends of
her fingers. Sho can do that any time
she wants to, and never feels the least
annoyed at the awe of the beholders.
She is a tall, handsome young woman,
who has never been ill in her life. She
is rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed, and she
isn't the slightest particle like the typi
cal healer. She works in a big, hot fac
tory down town, and she can cure any
girl in the place of headache or any kind
of pain. . She doesn't go through strange
evolutions or weird incantations. She
just pushes back her sleeves and lay3 'her
cold, wet hand3 on the aching bead.
The patient feels a queer, creepy shivery
sensation crawling down her back. The
cold hands move slowly across the hot
forehead of the sufferer, the throbbing
pain stops, the twitching of the eyelids
ceasep, and the, headache is gone. San
Francisco Examiner.
The Best Roadway.
' "The people aie having lots of road
way conventions throughout the South
&ud West now days," observed J. C.
McCandliss, of New Hartford, Conn., at
the Lindell as he had finished, reading
a treatise on that very important
question in a' popular magazine. "The
best roadway is a raised one," macadam
ized. Drainage, of course, mu9t be
maintained, for it is an essential feature
to good roads. The goo i roadway
should be seeded to gras3, evened up and
the weeds kept down. Shade trees
should be planted in order that the sun
light be kept out. The overseer method,
particularly now in practice in the
South, should be abolished and comrais;
sioners of not less than three elected
from each county, who should be in
structed to personally supervise all im
provements. Local highway improve
ment societies should be formed iu tverj
precinct and road improvements dis
cussed." St. Lou's Republic.!
Weather rrl actions byCoffee.
A Spanish journal tells of ah inter
esting experiment to be tried with a cup
of clear coffee and a lump of sugar.
The sugar should be dropped into the
coffee without stirring; in a moment the
air contained in the sugar will rise to
the surface in the shape of bubbles, and
these bubbles are excellent weather in
dications. If they collect in the middle of the
cup a fair day follows; if, adversely,'
they adhere to the sides, forming a ring
of bubbles wil h a clear space in the cen-'
tre, take your umbrella, for rain is at
hand; while, if they do neither ne
thing nor the other, but scatter irregu
larly, variable weather is indicated.
Just what is the scientific explanation
of the action of the atmosphere on the
bubbles is not stated, but that their in
dications curiously agree with those of a
barometer has'been tested. New (York
Times,
Unto God, God's.
TESTING HER GUNS.
The
United States Cruise r Vesuvius
at Port Eoyal. y J
Port Rotal, S. C The dynamite
cruiser Vesuvius is in the harbor for the
purpose of testing her high explosive
guns.
j Lieutenant Seaton Sohroeder is in com
mand, and the tests were under the iu
pervision of a committee j appointed by
Secretary Tracy, consisting of Capt. Mont
gomery Sicard of the IMiantonomoh,
Capt. A. S. Barker of the ths Philadel
phia, and Commander W. H. Brownson
of the Dolphin.
The trial was unusually thorough. The
cruiser carried 75 blank projectiles and
25 loaded with 200 pounds of gun cotton
and. about 80 blank; p'ojectiles used in
ranging the guns, and five loaded with a
small charge of powder to test the new
fuses. Eighteen of the loaded projectiles
were fired at hulks.
The cruiser carries three high-exploiivs
gujie, each 55 feet long, 6et at an ang e
of 18 degrees. Their length precludes
the fixing of the range by a change of
elevation, as is done with powder can
non. The range is therefore regulated
by the amount of air in the firing reser
voir. The pressure in the firing reser
voir is always 750 peunds per square
inch. This storage reservoir cau supply
enough air for .thirty shots or more. 1 he
ervice projectile carries a charge of 200
pounds of gun cotton and will travel
about 2,400 yards. The full calibre pro
jectile, with 500 pounds of gun cotton,
weighs 1,000 pounds and is too heavy to
carry far at the angle of the guns. Tho
new fuses exploded the projectile about
75 yards after contact with the water, al
though an arrangement is made for in
stant explosion on an impact with a solid
substance. ,
The Vesuvius is able to fire one gun a
minute. It takes five seconds to charge
the guns with air, and about two min
utes and a half to load the guns. On her
trial trip the Vesuvius fired fifteen shots
in 16 minutes 10 seconds.
There will be no more delay from the
pitching of the vessel in a rough sa
in firing the pneumatic guns than with
ordinary cannon. This depends largely
on the ability of the gunner to have his
sights ready and fire his shot the moment
the vsssel is steady on the erest of a sea.
The tests were satisfactory in every
way. '
Jerry Simpson a Candidate.
. Topeka, Kan. Congressman Jerry
Simpson arrivedjhere and .he put all doubts
to rest concerning his candidacy for
the United States Senate by announcing
that he was a candidate. . He said, how
ever, that his presence was due more to
a desire to help the Populists endeavor
to organize the House than in his own
interest.
The organization" of the House, he
further said, depended upon the Su
preme Court, before which the j House
contest cases, recently mentioned in these
despatches, had been filed. Of. course
the court could not finally settle the con
test. But what the court could do was
to prevent a man from working a wrong
which was all the Populists asked.
A Precious Rascal.
Riciimoxd, Va.. A special from Tas
ley, Va., says that Thomas Nelson, may
or of .Cape Charles City, ha3 absconded
after squandering about $3,000 church
and trust funds placed in his hands for
safekeeping. lie was a master mechan
ic; clerk oi the New York, Phil
adelphia and Norfolk Railroad; a ves
tryman of the Episcopal church und may
or of .the town. Ho also belonged to
all the secret orders.
Nelson is a native of Virginia, though
he came to Cape Charles City from New
Jersey. Owing to his expensive style of
liviDg, his wife left him. Then he sold
his furniture and after receiving the
money left for parts uuknown. A re
ward is offered for his arrest.
Burns His Ship.
Wilmington, N. C. The schooner
Eleanor, Captain McCoy, which sailed
from Georgetown, S. C, for New York,
December 24, with a cargo of rosin, spir
its of turpentine and cotton, was 6truck
December 25 by a gale. that lasted three
days, causing the ship to spring a leak.
The vessel on December 28 becoming
water-logged, was abandoned 35 miles
off Topsail Inlet. The crew of 6eveh
men reached shore here after being in a
small boat 38 hours, suffering' intensely.
Captain McCoy, realizing the danger of
the floating wreck te passing vessels, set
hre to his water-logged ship before leav
ing her.
Julian Can and the Cabinet.
" Wa-hisgton. D. Julian S. Can
was interviewed hers- as to the Postmas
ter Generalship and says : .
"While the posi ion is one of highhon
or for any man and I would feel com
plimented by Mr Cleveland's choice, if
it fell On ine, I must say in response to
your enqu ry for a word on the subject
that I could not even consider aDy place
in the Presid nt's gift except that of
P.ostmaster General A man ought not
to seek cr lightly decline position of
hich honor or res onfeibilitv, such as that
of a cabinet portfolio."'
"The Grottoes" of Virginia.
S.- II. Ncwinll, curator of the geologi
cal department of the Smithsonian Jn--t:tute
of Wii-hington, has been in Shen
d u, Va., getting t gether a collection of
s .-d.ictite. s al gmites and other won
lcr3 from W oyer's cave for an exhibit at
Chicago. Mr.,Newhall says that sp ci
: ens fr id the caves in this locality ex-
erd .all oth -rs m beauty, and that- this
id be tiie.l irgest aJid most comrytehen
ive display of "any' cave knownT After
! imr displayed at Chicago,the specimens
a c to be brough- back to Washington
1 1 l jrive i t the Smit soni.m Institute.
. Governor Tillman Signs the Bill.
Columbia. S. C Governor Tillman
signed the Wih-un ntihoad bill, w. ich
passed th i. Logilatur !.ist w-tk, giving
to the railroad -"'ni-sion tl.e power to
fix pnssenrr smd frcigh rates Jnd other-
wise
n a.
cunir"! t'i- r ij'f'trids of South Caro-
I
$1.00 Per
EDITORS CALL ON GR0VER.
He Receives Them Graciously and
Enquires About Vance and Oelquitt.
As has been announced, ton Southern
editors called on Mr. Cleveland last Sat
urday In New York and the Herald tays:
Mr. Cleveland was glad to see the
Southern editors. He knew nearly all of
them personally, but each in turn was
presented to him by Captain Howell.
"Mr. President," said Capt. Howell,
when the handshaking was over, "we are
not here to talk about offices. We don't
want any offices, tor do, we come in any.
particular interest. But . the legislation
of the last twenty-five years ha been in
favor of the hawks. Now we 'want the
chickens. to have a show."
Mr. Cleveland laughed heartily at this.
'There is much in that barnyard simile
of yours, Mr. Howell," he eaid.
"You may also possibly recall, Mr.
President," went on Capt Howell," ''that
some of us were not in favor of your
nomination at Chicago" (with a sweep of
his hand toward Editors Walsh and
Stockton), 'but after you were nominated
we were all for' you."
"It makes no difference," said the
President-elect, "who wa3 opposed to
my nomination; I want the assistance of
everybody. I want the assistance of all
you gentlemen to carry . out the princi
ples on which I was elected. Relief is
expected 6f the p- ople and I earuestly
desire your co-operation to secure what
they have asked for"
"The South, Mr. Cleveland, will do all
in its power to assist jou," said Editor
Hemphill. "I.do not think this country
ever had an election which caused such
sincere rejoicing throughout the. South."
Mr. Cleveland looked pleased. "I feel
very much flattered," he observed, "at
wh-it happened as a result of the carn-
pngn, and the expres-ions of good will
which have come from the South and
from oth r parts of the country have been
especidly gratifying."
Thj President-elect inquired . particu
latly about Senators Coiquett, of Georgia,
and Vance, of North Carolina. He also
asked Mr.'. Howell t: remember him to
his son, Clark Howell, and spoke in an
appreciative way of young Mr Howell's
letters on the progress of the campaign,
printed from week to week in the Her
ald. At one ti;nc during the visit Mr. Cleve
land said he hoped none of the editors
had brought iuterviewers with -them.
This allusion to the fear of the President
elect that he might b3 quoted caused a
laugh all around, and one of the editors
said thty did uot thing such enterprise
had been attempted sinca Colenel Shep
urd interviewed General Alger- with a
shorthand man behind the screen. -.-
"I do not like getting into the news
papers day after day," said Mr. Cle've
aud, "but I do take the position that
wheu t'aere is anything with which I am
connected which affects the welfare of
the people or in which the people are
interested, it is my duty to make it pub
lic." - ' -
Touching on personal matters- Mr.
Cleveland said, that he was sorry' the edi
t jrs had not called on him earlier. "I
know," said he, "that you have been
h2ie a week. I rather expected you to
cill on me earlier. I shall always be
glad to se you. "
-'We did not ca'l on you before be
cause we did not care to' intrude upon
your time. We knew you were having
t m iny callers."
"I am not so-busy as the public gener
ally believes," said Mr. Cleveland. '
The editors now took their leave. They
liad been with Mr Cleaveland nearly a
half hour. Mr. Cleveland shook hands
with them heartily and said he hoped to
see them whenever they came North.
During the visit not a word did Mr.
Cleveland drop about an extra "session,
the speakership or the formation of his
cabinet.
The Sfiim of Toac-t. V
A curious scientist, who has been giv
ing careful attention to the matter, says
that man's sense of touch, or feeling,,
resides almost wholly in the ski a and in
those parts of the body, as the lips and
the tongue, that are most exposed, while
some of our most important organ, the
heart, for instance, and the -brain,,, are
quite insensible to touch, thus showing
that not only are nerve necessary for
the sensation, but also the special eu I
organs. The curious fact was noticed
with the greatest astonishment by Har
vey, wbc, while treating a patient for
an abscess that caused a large cavity in
his side, found that, when, he put his
fingers into this cavity, he could actually
take hold gf the heart without the pa
tieat being in the least aware o what he
was doing. - This 60 interested Harvey
that he brought King Cuarle3 I. to the
man's bedside that "he might himseli
, behold and touch so' extraordiaarf a
thing." In certain operations a piece ot
ekin Is removed from the forehead to the
nose, and it is stated that the patient,
oddly enough, feeis as if the new nasal
part were still in his forehead and may
have a headache in his nore. New Or
leans Picayune.
Killed for Not Working the Road.
AeimviLLK, N. C. Saturday afternoon
O. R. Joues was shot and iistantly kil
led and his son Jesse . Jon.s perhaps fa
tally shot at th'-ir home near Leicester,
twelve miles wt st f Asheville. Young
Jones refu-ed to oby. the suStmons to
work upon the public roacU.and the fath
er sustained hi i and dofi d the officer3.
Cons' able Steve s sc iircil a posse" and
attempted t make the unes'i In a fight
which followed fifteen or twenty shots
were exchanged The killing is regard
ed as justifiable. .Irse ..'ones has since
di'd. ' m
In Lyochburg, .Va., the tobacco ware
houses are unsualW busy, "and high prices
are b.i g secured at nearly all sales.
Some shipping Vrades recently brought
$ 13.75 per huntjfred and dark grades com
mand a co- respond fngly satisfactory price.
Very little bright tobacoo is being offer-
1, but the figures which it realizes ' are
highly gratifying, Farmers are bringing
i heir tobacco in steadily, and as a cons;
quence merchants state that the volume
of business is particularly good, and the
holiday trade promises to be unusually
hf'vy.
Annum, in Advanc
NO. 46
raE OCEAN'S GRAVEYARD.1
t,HE SA.RCASSO SEA. THE ClTER
In Immense Area'ol Vter Which H
Covered. With Floating Wrecks
and -Other Strange Objects.
OR several years past the Hydro
graphic Bureau at Washington
has been trying to- acquire a
more intimate knowledge of the
movements of the waters of the ocean
ni a great number of bottles, contain,
ing messages and securely corked, have
been dropped overboard by vessels.
Many of these have floated thousands of
miles before they were picked upy .and, .
while some were washed upon native and
foreign shores, others have found their
way into the great Sargasso Sea. FronS
the courses taKen by these different bot
tles it has been ' found that the ocean
currents move around in a vast circle.
Tnose which were dropped overboard
on the American, coast took a northerly
course,-while those on the European side
floated toward the south. ' Bottles
dropped overboard iq the North Atlan
tic started toward the northeast,'' and
those from the African and' Spanish
coast floated almost directly west until
they reached the West India Islands. .
The general directions of the currents
were thus ascertained, showing that the
wacers acted upon by winds and cur
rents circulated round and round like a
pool.
In all pools floating objects are quickly
cast outside of the revolving currents,
or they are carried with them in their
circular route'for some time, until, they
are washed nearer the .centre or side of
the pool. The bottics that were forced
oufside of the currents of the ocean
were cast upon the shores of .some coun
try, but those which were worked
toward the centre eventually found their
way in the calm waters of the Sargasso
Sea. Here they femain peacefully until
picked up by some vessel, or until some
sform cists them back into the great
pool. , .
Vesselliry rarely visit the great sea
in the middle of the ocean, but occasicn
ally they are driven there by 'storms or
adverse winds. Strange sights meet the
gaze of . the sailors at such times. Won
derful stories partly .true and partly
false have been told by sailors return
ing from, a forced .trip o the vast Sar- '
gasso Sea. The surface of the soa! is
covered with floating wrecks, spars, sea
weed boxes, fruits, and a thousand other -
innumerable articles. It is the great re
pository or storehouse of tho ocean, and
all things which do not sink tp the bot
tom or are not washed upon the shores
are carried to this centre of the sea. .
When one considers the vast number of
wrecks on the ocean, and the quantity : .
of floating material that is thrown over
board, a. faint idea of the wreckage io
the Sargasso Sea may be conceived.
Derelicts, or abandoned vessels, fre
quently disappear in myeterious ways,
and no accounts are given of theui for'
years by passing vessels. Then suddenly,
.years later, they appear again in somo
well-traveled route to the astonishment -of
all. Che wrecks are covered with
mould and green slime, showiDg the
long, lonesome voyage whica they have
passed through. .It is generally sup
posed that such derelicts have been swept
into the centre of the pool and remained
in the Sargasso Sea until finally cast out
by some unusually violent storm.
The life in this sea is interesting. Sol
itary and alone the acres of waters, cov
ered with the debris, stretch out as th
vast graveyard of the ' ocaan, seldom
being visited by vessels or human beings."
Far lrom all trading routes of vessels,
the sight of a sail or eveam vtSbel is
something Unusual. The fishes of the
6ea form the chief life of these watery soli
tudes. I Attracted by the vast quantities
of wreckage floating' in the sea, and also
by the gulf weed on wnica many of them
live, tney swarm around in great num
bers. . The smaller 'fishes "live in the in
tricate avenues iormed by the seaweed,
and the more ferocious denizens of the
dcp:ome hither to'feed upon the quan- ;
titles of 6inall fish. In this way the tub
marine life of the Sargasso Sea is made
interesting and lively. - .
" The onJy life overhead is that made
by a few Bea birds, which ocdwionally
reach the solitudes of this m d-ocean
cemetery. ' A Jew of the long flyers of
the air penetrate to the very mi Idle of
the ocean, but-it is very rarely that thia
occurs.. Some have been known to
follow vessels across the ocean,
keeping ''at a respectful distaccJ
from the stern. Other birds have .
been swept out to sea' by storms, and
have finally sought ret uge in the Sar
gasso Sea. Still others, taking refuge on
some derelict, have been' gradually car
ried to' the same midocean scene. There
is sufficient food floating on the surface,
or to be obtained from the fishes which
live amou'g the forests of seaweed, to
support a large 'colony of ' bird?. It i .
surmised that many of those found in the
sea have mhab.itedJ.bose regions for
years, partly from, choice, and partly
from necessity. " Birds swept out there
by storms would not care to venture the
long return trip to land, and finding an
abundance of food 'm 1 wr'T cs on which,
to rest and rear t'. ju.,they might
easily become conteut with u..:ir strange
lot. Just how far the strong-winge 1 ' .
sea birds can fly without resting is all
conjectural, but it is doubtful" if many
of them would undertake such a long
journey seaward with no better prospect
ahead than dreary wastes of .waters
Detroit Free Press.
A'Fluatinr Hotil.
A strange craft repenjly iainched at
Bith', Me.,, for use in Florida, and whic i -will
shortly be iqf New York, is the
floating hotel, J. S, Danforth. It is in- -tended
lor service on Florida fivers. It
has threo keels, is 125 feet lon aud '
thirty feet rx am, and draws twenty-five
inches of water. It will accommodate
p seventy-five persons and will be th;
floating home or hunters ana ri;irmM.
who visit ; Florida.-rNew Orleans
Picavune. . '
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