HUE CHARLOTTE MESSENGER.
VOL. IL NO. 1L
CHARLOTTE, MECKLENBURG CO., N. C., OCTOBER 27 , 1883.
V C, SMITH. PllMisM.
THE SILENT VOICE.
There is a sighing in the wood,
A murmuring in the beating wave,
The heart has never understood
To tell in words the thought it gave.
Yet oft it feels an answering tone
When wandering on the lonely shore,
And could the Epi its voice make known,
’Twould sound as does the ocean’s roar.
in the country that he needed a wife.
And all the girls liked him. Alice Pres
ton, with her bright black eyes ; Betty
Browning, who could turn out such a
loaf of bread as couldn’t be equaled in
Perry county ; Christy Wicker, the shy
Swiss girl; they would all be casting a
line in Big Muddy and smiling on Hirara
Thing. Deb’s very existence would be
forgotten—so Deb thought—unless she
should be there in the white dress with
And oft beneath the wind-swept pine
Some chord is struck the strain to swell
Nor sounds nor language can define;
’Tis not for words nor sounds to tell.
’Tis all unheard that Silent Voice,
Whose gciugs forth, unknown to all,
Bids bending reed and bird rejoice,
And fills with music Nature’s hall.
—Jones Very.
THS WOOL-PICKING-.
'■‘Good-evenin’, Mis’ Hornish.”
“ Why, is that you, Mis’ Manly? Come
in, won’t you? I woudn’ta-knowed you,
but for your voice, secin’ as your bonnet
is so fur over your face.”
“ Mis’ Manly” stood in the doorway.
It was dusk. She wore a long gray bon
net of the kind known as “ Shaker,”
with a voluminous skirt that wrapped her
figure like a comfortable mantle. If you
could have peeped like a star within that
bonnet, you would have seen a tired,
worn face, and eyes ihat looked with
something like envy into the comfortable
kitchen where Mis’ Hornish was prepar
ing bacon for “his” supper. (In this
western country the shy matrons always
speak of their husbands as “ he.”)
“It’s so late I can’t stop,” said Mis’
Manly. “I just dropped round to say I
was tryin’ to git -up a wool-pickin’ for
to-morrow, an’ to see if you an’ Deb
would come.”
Debby Hornish was busy at the iron
ing table, pressing out a white dress with
an overskirt and three ruffles; but she
stopped a moment, pushing back the
little black rings of hair from her rosy
brow to say:
“Why, Mis’ Manly, what a pity! I’d
have helped you with all the pleasure in
life; but there's the picnic! Whatever
possessed you to have the wool-pickin’
the same day ?”
“Ain't it just my luck ?” cried the
widow. “You see. I've been kind o’
slack about my wool, an’ yestiddy morn-
in’ Mr. Simlius said if I’d have it ready
agin Thursday, that he’d take it to
Mulkystowu an’ sell it for me. It’s the
only chance I'll get to send it off; and
wool is up now to fifty cents in money
and fifty-five in trade; so I just felt as if 1
I must get it cut to-morrow, come what
might.”
“ How many have promised,to come ?" I
" $!-- ILL nir-hc vn^L |
■£\' ’cbuld a-got ... v... Mx j
twenty, Ai-Uwe ecc’ 1 a finished it up j
V, fore noon. But everybody was plum
crazy about this picnic. I ain’t got the '
promise of more’n five ladies, an’ you
know that ain’t no show at all to pick
out the wool of twelve sheep, an’ it
seems like my sheep was always the
dirtiest sheep—an’ tire fondest o'
brambles and brier hedges—of any in
the country.”
Here Mis’ Manley let a few tears fall;
mild as the rain of a drizzling day, and
quite as depressing.
“It is too bad for anything !” cried
Mrs. Hornish, with hearty sympathy.
“ I’ll come over, of course; but Deb, you
know, couldn’t give up the picnic.”
“Law no, it couldn’t be expected; I’m
powerful glad to have you. You’ll come
early, won’t you ?”
“I’ll be bound that I get over before
you have your dishes done up,” said
Mrs. Hornish, with a jolly laugh.
The Widow Manly took her sad face
home; the supper was dished; “he”
came in from the wheat field: and the
white dress was finished and fluted; but
somehow Debby Hornish did not feel
quite happy.
“ She did look so pitiful,” she thought,
recalling the pinched little face under
the sunbonnct. “I should have been so
glad to have helped her.”
In truth, the poor, complaining little
woman needed help a good many times
in the course of the year. “He” had
been killed in a mill where he worked
some five years before, leaving to his wife
four children, a small farm, a few sheep,
and a cow; all of which she managed as
well as her load of fears, agitations and
chills allowed. They all had chills, poor
things: they had given up the doctor as
a vain luxury, but they bought quinine
and calomel by the pound, and worked
on dismally between the shakes. A wool-
picking was one of the hardest “chores ”
of the year.
Are there any of my city-bred young-
folks who don’t know what a wool-pick
ing is? It is a careful picking over of
the wool after it has been sheared to free
it from burrs, brambles, berries, Spanish- !
needles, dry mud and dead insects that
a lively sheep will collect in his rambles
through the world. Further north the
sheep are taken to a sparkling running
stream, and well washed before they are
clipped; but in the stagnant, coffee-
colored creeks of the West this would be
a useless ceremony.
“Not half a dozen in the county to
help that foolish little woman,” thought
Deb, wrathfully. “Why couldn’t she
have had her wool-pickin’ a week ago?”
At any other time there would have
been no lack of neighbors to hel^ the
widow in her need; but everybody was
taken up with the picnic. In the hard
workaday life of these people few pleas
ures arise, and in all the farmhouses
through the six-mile and the pine-mile
prairie this picnic had been talked about
for a month of Sundays.
They were going in buggies, wagons
and on foot; were to fish in Big Muddy
creek; to gather wild Toses and black-
benies; to light a fire in the “timber”—
so they called the wooded portion of the
flat country—and make hot coffee for
dinner, and dance under the trees after (
the rising of the big yellow moon. Be
yond all these attractions for Debby there
was one yet more powerful—young Mr.
Thing—Hiram Tiring—was to be there.
Now Deb was sixteen, and to her think
ing Hiram was an interesting youth.
In fact, everybody had a good word
for Mr. Thing. He had a lovely farm
to begin with. His sheep sheared ten
pounds to the fleece; his wheat averaged
thirty bushels to the acre. He had aj
nice house; and since his mother’s death i
only his crippled little sister .Jessy to take
cure of it. it was plain to all the gossips 1
the fluted ruffles.
She sat out on the porch looking up
to the sweet silent stars and thought it
over. In the sitting-room her father
dozed in his chair, with a newspaper over
his face to keep off the night-moths and
the stray files that were sleepily sticking
to the ceiling ; her mother nodded over
“his ” half - cin med stocking The work
for the day was done. Nothing between
Ded and her conscience.
She sat there so long, and was so still,
that finally her mother roused herself to
call: “ Why, Debby, child! why don’t
you come in ? Have your wits gone a
wool-gatherin’ ?”
“ That’s just it, mother!” cried Deb,
with a laugh, though she brushed some
thing warm from her eyes as she. spoke.
“ I’ve just about concluded to give up
the picnic and go to the wool-pickin’.”
“Debby Hornish! I thought your
heart was plum set on the picnic.”
. “ So I thought myself; but it’s a little
more set on helpin’ Mis’ Manly git her
wool out. She is such a shif’less little
critter! An’ it’ll be a real misfortune for
her if sh - don't sell her wool for a good
price. So I’ll just go along and bear my
bob with the rest of you. And if you
don’t mind, mother, I’ll take over the
cakes and things I baked for the picnic.”
“That’s a good plan, honey, for I
reckon she won’t have much of a din
ner.”
By “ sun-up ” the next morning Deb
and her mother were off. As they
reached Mrs. Manly’s gate a buggy whirled
up in a cloud of dust. A voice called,
“ Deb! Debby Hornish!”
“Well, well!” cried Mrs. Hornish, “if
there ain’t Hiram and Jessie Thing!”
“Why ain’t you on your way to the
picnic, Deb?” cried the young girl in the
buggy.
“Oh! you know wool-pickin’ is such
fun,” said Deb, with a droll look; “I
couldn’t resist cornin’ over and leadin’ a
hand.”
“Well, you girls are crazy,” said Mr.
Tiring, jumping out of the buggy;
“here's Jessy, nothin’ would do but
that she must come to the wool-pickin’.
“That’s natural enough, brother. I
never did want to go the picnic much.
What could I do on my crutches among
a lot o’ lively young folks. I should just
a’ been a ..drug on you..,. But I can pick
wool v. -.lb, anybody; so her-. I am. It’s
differed•, however, with IRE.”
* . .i.v . i i*^.' Tuj. 1 •" u :>g
eriy; “ jud ho v . Mi. DA - d i ku me
person Ie youro change ; our mine. You
see I haven’t any company!"now chat’ sis
has deserted me. I’ll be proud if you’ll
let me drive you to the picnic and keep
company with you to-day.”
Poor Deb! how handsome he looked
as he stood there twisting his fingers in
the horse’s mane. Tall and slim, his
eyes as blue as his calico shirt, and dan
cing with fun under his wide straw hat.
How nice, this warm day, to drive along
the waving wheat fields, meeting the
breeze as it ruffled, the young corny to
fish under the shade of a cottonwood
tree. Much, much better than to sit in
a stuffy room, picking brambles out of
wool.
“ Do go,” urged Jessy, “you know
I’m as good as two at wool-pickin'.”
Whether young Mr. Tiring’s smile was
too confident, or Deb’s own heart re
proached her, I know not; but at any
rate she said resolutely:
“I’ll run a race with you in wool-
pickin’, Jessy Thing, an’ that’s all there
is of that.”
In the Widow Manly’s house there were
two rooms. One the kitchen, dining and
“ company” room with two beds in the
corner; the other a sleeping room for the
widow and her children. It was here too
that she retired to weep over her mis
eries; a solace necessary only too often.
By the time they had fairly got to
work four more were added to the
party, grandmothers all too old to care
for picnics. “ Grandma Bixby ” took the
lead; she was as spry as a girl, and said
she was 100 years old; Mrs. Higgins,
noted for having survived three conges
tive chills; Mrs. Harte, doubled up with
rheumatism; and a funny little old
woman who had fifteen children, and
was nicknamed “ Dame Thumb ” by her
boys, made up the party. A great heap
of wool was piled up in the middle of the
floor. They sat round it and peeped at
each other over the top of the pile, as
people do at dinner parties over the
epergne.
“I’m afraid, ladies, that my wool is
dreadful dirty,” said the Widow Manly,
with a depressed air.
“Why, Mrs. Manly,” cried Jessy
Thing, “what would yon do if your
sheep were like some I read of the other
day, out in Colorado? Why, in the time
of drought their fleeces get full of dust;
then the wind blows the grass-seeds into
the wool, and when the rain comes the
seeds sprout, and after awhile the sheep
strut around with the green grass grow
ing on their backs!”
All hands turned to look at Jessy. No
one spoke. But after a long silence Dame
Thumb said:
“Jessy Thing, you’re jokin’, ain’t
you?”
“I declare I read it,” said Jessy,
twinkling her eyes at Deb.
“ She always was a master hand to
joke,” said Grandma Bixby. “I saw
her born, and her mother and her grand
mother.”
The wool-picking went on so vigor
ously that by dinner time it was more
than half done. After dinner Deb in
sisted that the widow join the cheerful
company, and leave her to do the clear
ing up. While Jessy, declaring herself
so tired that she must take a “nooning,”
went down to the spring to rest under
the shade of the trees. Deb bustled
around rattling the dishes, and listening
to the old ladies’ chirp in the next room.
“ Them Things is such nice folks,”
said Dame Thumb.
“ Well, when all’s said an’ done they’ve
got the curiousest name in the world,”
sighed the Widow Manly.
“Don’t you know how that came
about ?” asked Grandma Bixby.
“I did know, but it’s kind of slipped
my mind, owin’ to so much trouble.”
“ Why, the great-grandfather o’ these :
young Things, he was named Bizzard.
And he had a sight o’ trouble all on
account of his name. Do what he would,
the boys would call him Buzzard an’ flap
their arms like wings when he Came
around, an’ vex him real rough. So he
went to the legislature prayin’ for his
name to be changed. ‘All right,’ says
the legislature, ‘what name’ll yo.u have?’
‘Oh! anything,’ says he, ‘anything.’
‘That’ll do,’ says the judge. ‘Write
that name down,’ he says to the clerk—
‘Anything.’
“Old Bizzard, he was so struck of a
heap that he couldn’t say a word. And
so in the snappin’ of a bird’s eye he was
written down by th‘ uno of Anything.
The nex’ ginerati they dropped’ the
Any, but Tilings tuey ore to this day.’ -
"An’ Things they will remain,” sol
emnly said the old lady with the rheu
matism, “ till the last day, when they’ll
be called up by their proper name o’
Bizzard.”
“ Well, Thing is a good name,” said
Dame Thumb. “It's so handy like, an’
forget it you can’t.”
“There’s a good many girls in the
country would be glad enough to take
it,” said the widow.
Debby in the next room felt her cheeks
burn. The stove was so hot.
“I’ll go down to the spring and wash
the rolling-pin,” she called; and .catch
ing her sunbonnct she walked off, fan
ning herself with her apron.
The spring was shaded by willows,
and Under one of them Jessy lay asleep.
Her crutch had fallen by her side, one
arm was rounded under her head, the
other, half-bare, was flung out on the
grass.
“I will not wake her,” thought Deb,
“ poor child! how tired and warm she
looks!”
But at this instant Deb’s eyes grew wild
with horror. Within a foot of Jessie’s
bare arm was a young adder. Its head,
spreading out a little, was reared to
strike; white foam was at its mouth;
How Deb did it she never knew, but the
next second she had strack wildly at that
evil head with the rolling-pin, and was
crying:
“ Wake! Jessy! Wake!”
Jessie did wake, and to a scene that
she.never forgot. Deb had not dared to
raise the rolling-pin to strike again; but
pressed upon it with the energy of de
spair, fastening the reptile to earth,
though it squirmed, and hissed, and
twisted itself round the brave girl’s
wrist,
“Get to the house, Jessie, as fast as
you can, and bring a knife.”
She hobbled off, and in a time to be
counted by seconds was back again with
the u.bole party. ..The Lqul old liddies
and Deb s mother were unnerved. But
Me Widow- Manly, for once’in her life
icHo in j ho -.•■.'k- v •”* «ft T, ‘ ' ’
head in a mast-mb ma t below
wheat Deb h- 'd R dow" with th rolling-
pin. .
They arc used to snakes in this broad,
beautiful West of ours, so no one fainted.
Not a great deal was said. But Dame
Thumb patted Jessy on the head, with
“You had an escape, honey. That was
a powerful pizen snake.”
“I know it,” said- the girl, with ■ a
quick shudder.
The wool-picking went on; but Jessy
clung to Deb, and did not do much more.
As the sun went down, and the party
broke up, she said: “If it hadn’t been
for you, Debby, Dame Thumb and the
rest would have dressed me for the grave
by this time; and so Hiram would a’
found me when he got home.”
“I’m glad I happened to have the
rollin’-pin,” said Deb, practically.
Through the winter that followed it
was observed that young Mr. Thing’s
horse stopped with tolerable regularity at
the Hornish gate; and there is a rumor
that Deb will wear her white dress early
in the spring on a very important occa
sion. Certainly the old farmhouse has
been painted and papered, and Dame
Thumb says: “ Nothin’ less than a wed-
din’ will justify Hiram Thing in such a
foolish spendin’ of his wheat-money. ”--
Youth’s Companion.
Poultry Farms.
A poultry farm of 8,000 Plymouth
Rocks is owned and carried on by A. C.
Hawkins at Lancaster, near Boston,
Mass. He calculates to have about 8,000
fowls every fall, and carries over about
2,500 laying hens through the winter.
At the present time he has 12,000, includ
ing all sizes. His farm contains twenty-
five acres, and his poultry buildings oc
cupy an acre and a half. They are situ
ated on the south slope of a hill, and
comprise six. or seven sheds 200 feet in
length. Each shed is divided into apart
ments of 12 by 20 feet, and about twenty-
five hens are kept in each division. A
yard is made in front of cachapartment,
so that the members of each are By
themselves. Mr. Hawkins believes that if
confined poultry have all their wants at
tended to, they will do as well in egg-pro
duction as if allowed free ranged He
bases this belief upon several tests. In
hatching-time he sets 200 hens on one
day, and puts 500 eggs in an incubator,
which is due to hatch on the same day,
the chickens from which wall be distrib
uted among the 200 hens. Boston is one
of the best markets for fancy prices for
eggs and poultry, and his sales of fowls
and eggs for hatching at fancy prices are
large, about ninety per cent, being profit.
He also has a standing order for sixty to
ninety dozens of eggs daily, for. which be
gets the highest market price. Mr.
Hawkins began at the age of twenty-one
with 100 hens, and by careful manage
ment and economy his business has en
larged so that at the age of twenty-nine
he has a very handsome income. The
manure from the poultry is quite an item;
he sold last year 500 barrels at $1.50 a
barrel. — Cultivator.
Stop the Car.
She had a crooked-handled parasol,
and with it she reached up and pulled 1
the bell strap of a Michigan avenue car. j
“Hey! Mr. Boggs, be your folks at
home ?” she screeched to a bald-headed
man on the sidewalk.
“ Why, ‘Liza, is that you ? Yes, Mary
Ann’s ter home. Ain’t yer goin’ ter
stop?”
“When I come back. I’m a-goin’
downtown to do some sboppin, and git
me a new bunnet. Tell Mary Ann I’ll
be back afore dinner and we’ll—”
At this point the conductor yanked i
the bell cord and seventeen passengers
groaned, but the blessed female never
tumbled.—Detroit Free Press.
THE USEFUL ALLIGATOR.
Various I sas tc Which the Saurian is
Notv rut—vow lie is Hunted.
The edicts of fashion have sent hunters
into the tropic/.! forests of Borneo and
Java to bring back the plumage of birds
of paradise to decorate female headgear.
To-day these same imperial edicts send
the hunter to tl • swamps and jungles of
Louisiana to pro ?ure the hide of the alli
gator for slippers to clothe the dainty
feet of fair worton and to make sachels
and bags in whi' h to carry their handker
chiefs and pock & money.
The most tashionabie material for
small valises, sachels, handbags, porte-
monnaies and t’ a like, is the skin, of the
Amoriaan aHL, Jr, and in all the Gulf
States, from 1 brida to Texas, these
saurians are hunud to supply the demand.
This fashion has not been in vogue for a
very long time, but for ..the past three
years the slaughter of the alligator has
been carried on ith great activity.
A reporter, do ring to make some in
quiry as to the extent of the trade in the
skins of these wurians, visited several
dealers in hides and furs on Peters street.
A number of the dealers handle alligator
hides quite largely, and they were found
entirely willing to give information on
the subject. At the warehouse of Messrs.
B. F. Simms & 3on a lot of several
thousand of these skins was seen in
process of being packed for shipment to
New York and Boston. The skins were
in the state known to the trade as “green
salted,” the freshly gathered hides being
pickled in salt and remaining soft and
pliable. There were the skins of saurians
from those of youngsters not much more
than a yard long to the hides of monsters
that must have measured twelve to
fifteen feet wher alive. One skin,
minus the tail and the snout, measured
thirteen feet by the line, with a corre
sponding breadth. The integument
freed from the bony scales, which, like
massive plate and Minor, cover the back
and head of the animal, was as heavy
and as thick as a ball’s hide, of which
stout sole leather is made.
Only the skin of rat-stomach and sides
is used, the back, v ith. its coat of mail,
being tut from the hide and thrown away
as'worthless. Cf a blackish blue hue on
the sides- and bluish white under the
stomach, all the skins showed great,
uniformity of color, and each was curl
ouriy checkered in squares which, being
separated by intersecting grooves and
wrinkled, gave the peculiar checkered
appearance seen in all alligator leather.
The flat parts of the skin are used for
bags, and sachets, ^ be those portions
covering the kne^ and elbows of the
monsters’ legs or uliarly suited for
the fronts of shea I boots.
The Lade in r kill 1 -, tu ...s them of’
all ^-.-.c f..' or n ■ >t ,, j . ,. aycru^ 1
pncec paid xeie itr g-.-.ra beaus ranging
from ten cents each for the smalle st to
ninety cents for the largest: .The^kins
most in demand are about seven feet
long, which is perhaps an average' for
full-grown alligators’ Those from ten
to fifteen feet long are classed as mon
sters.
Said Mr. B. J. Simms; “ We hear a
great .deal about shooting the alligator in
the eye with a rifle ball. That will do
for the man who simply hunts for sport,
but when you come to hunt alligators as
a regular business for profit, another
practice is necessary.
“Two men with a boat are required
for professional hunting, which must be
done on dark nights. One man sits at
the stern of the boat and paddies silently
in the Indian fashion. The other man,
with a lighted bull’s-eye lantern fixed on
his head, occupies the bow of the boat.
The light attracts and dazzles the alli
gator, and at the same time reveals him
to the hunter as the boat is being slowly
and silently paddled through the back
bayous and gloomy lagoons. An alli
gator being sighted lies perfectly still,
blinking at the fiery eye of the lantern,
and so allows the stealthy boat to be
moved up to within a very few feet of
him. The hunter y ith the light has a
brief but significant code of signs by
which he gives di. ciions to the paddler
as to the movem nis of the boat, and
when he has appro bed sufficiently near
to the game, at a sign the boat is
stopped and the shooter, armed with a
doubled barreled shotgun, discharges a
load of bird shot at a yard's distance into
the' shoulder of the saurian near where it
joins the body, tearing a great hole into
the animal near the heart. The wounded
game is seized Ly the snout;, while the
paddler, by a rapid motion, moves’ the
boat so that he a grab the tail of- the
alligator, and in a moment he is dragged
into the boat and’'his neck broken with a
hatchet.. - Sometimes a boat-hook or a
harpoon has to be used to secure the
game, but generally the alligator is .so
stunned by the si M that he is dragged
into the boat befu a .he can recover -suffi
ciently for resistance."
The hunters are mostly half-breed In
dians. “Dagoes, 1 Acadian Creoles and
some negroes, pair of hunters must
kill ten or more alligators in a night to
make the business pay," and so thorough
a knowledge of the habits and haunts of
the creatures.is required that only a few
can do this. The’ back and head of the
alligators are so covered by heavy scales
that they are., impenetrable by shot, and
hence the eye of the animal has been
sought as the vit:1 spot of the marksman,
who must be a good shot to hit so small
an object at thirty paces distance; but
the under side of the alligator is not so
thoroughly protected and at close range,
is easily pierced.
As to the growing scarcity of this sort
of game, Mr. Simms said it was due not
only to the increasing shyness of the
hunted saurians, but largely to the fact
that they arc being killed off. In the
! absence of scientific facts as to the age
i and growth of alligators there .is reason
j to believe that they come slowly to
maturity and li>e to a great age. Mr.
Simins stated that he had seen alligators
kept in inclosed ponds for many years
and while their development from the
egg to a length of five feet was attained
in a few years, growth after that was
exceedingly slow, less than an inch a
year, and he does not believe that an
alligator reaches the length of seven feet
in less than eighty years. He thinks the
monsters of twelve feet and upward are
quite a century old. Under these cir
cumstances said he, if the demand for
the hides continues the extermination of
the larger-sized alligators must one day
result.
The oil extracted from this creature
has a high reputation among the swampers 1
as a remedy for rheumatism, being given
both inwardly and externally, and is pro- ;
duced to supply a limited demand.
A bulb or sac filled with musk is found 1
in the skin of the throat, below each eye j
in males. The contents of these sacs is
a brownish, mealy pulp, overpoweringly !
charged with the odor of musk, but not j
differing materially from the crude prod- ;
uct of the Asiatic musk leer,which fur- j
nishes the merchantable commodity. The ।
musk of the alligator can doubtless be !
utilized in the same way, and may one
day go to increase the value of a hideous
and once useless and hateful monster.—-
New Orleans Picayune.
The Three Brothers Booth.
Junius Brutus Booth has been the
first of the brothers to die since the tragic
end of John Wilkes Booth, eighteen and
a half years ago; When John Wilkes
Booth committed his crime, his brothers
had not seen him for some months. The
last occasion on which they had acted
together was in the previous year at the
Winter Garden, where the brother who is
just dead also played. At the time of
Mr. Lincoln’s murder the two other
brothers were in Boston. Junius Brutus
was manager of the Boston theatre. He
had gone home and was in bed when the
telegram reached him of the accusation
that had been made against his brother.
Not believing it he rushed to the tele
graph office and sent dispatch after dis
patch without any result. Then he went
around to the newspaper offices to make
inquiries, but could get no positive news.
It was before the days of interviewing
and everybody respected his grief—even
the terrible reporter.
Edwin Booth was assisting at a dinner
at Boston, which I believe was given in
his honor. At any rate, he was just
about to rise with a glass in his hand to
some toast. It was at the Parker house.
Suddenly a waiter came in, and, inter
rupting him, handed him a dispatch.
Mr. Booth, put down the glass
and asked to be excused a moment,
as the message was of the utmost ur
gency. He opened it, turned deadly
pale, and sunk into the chair with his
head on the table, exclaiming: “My
God! my God!” There was great ex
citement in a moment. Somebody
picked up the dispatch and read it, and
then, one by one, the people left the
room. At about 4 o’clock the two
brothers, Edwin and Junius met, both of
them crushed with the weight of the ter
rible calamity. They went away togeth
er, and what occurred between them will
never be known. The late Junius Bru
tus Booth neV-T mentioned his brother's
name again, a id was deeply movedif ever i
U " -- ' j t " s broached in hi -pies?nee. •
o pel. r.- 1
move ■ 'ashington ,
tomb at Bad , and • ,
the re interm' 't of the bonc^M his.-uii-
fortunate bra her.—New York Journal.
FACTS FOR THE CURIOUS.
The domestication of buffalo calves u
being attempted in Arkansas.
The new postage stamps cost the
United States government nine cents pei
sheet of 1,000 stamps.
The climate of Western Nebraska is
said to be growing more' rainy, because
of the great cornfields, which act as
miniature forests.
In the eleventh century Frenchmen ol
fashion wore their hair, mustache and
beard in a style meant to simulate a
waterfall. The hair was cut evenly
around the head, the mustache washeavj
and drooping and the beard long and
pointed.
A man living in Minneapolis has a pel
pig which follows him about like a dog.
At one time pigs wore made pets of by
Spanish ladies, and very, very long age
dogs and pigs roamed the streets oJ |
towns in England and Scotland, and
were petted alike.
The editor of the Albany (Ga.) Newt
and Advertiser has been presented a ter
rapin or turtle of some kind in a perfect 1
state of petrification, being as hard and
almost as white as a piece of solid marble.
It weighs about a pound, and on the out
side all the marks of a terrapin shell are
plainly to be seen. On the back of the
formation is the imprint of a star fish,
which is almost as plainly marked as the [
terrapin is.
Among the most authentic instances of j
a sudden change taking place in the
color of the hair is that of “Guarino j
Verones, ancestor of the author of ‘Fastor :
Fido,’ who having studied Greek at Con
stantinople, brought thence on his return i
two cases of Greek manuscripts, the
fruit of his indefatigable researches; one
of them being lost at sea, on the ship-
wreck of the vessel, the chagrin of losing
such a literary treasure, acquired by so
much hard labor, had the effect of turn
ing the hair of Guarino gray in one
night.”
Guinea-fowl have five distinct calls.
The cluck of the hen is in a higher pitch
than that of the barn-door fowl, and so
is the call of the cock when he wishes to
summon his family to some delicacy.
Warning of danger is conveyed by an
exclamation of “ kitti-kitti-kitti-kitti,”
which, when taken up by a whole flock,
resembles a concert of kettledrums. The
fifth note is that of interrogation.- Per
haps a hawk’s shadow skims across the
ground, and the Gallinus take refuge in
the cover. There is absolute silence till
there is reason to suppose that the peril
is over. Then one, Uttle wattled head
A Strange Vehicle.
A new and strange vehicle which has
made its appearance on the Faris boule
vards may be expected in this country
in time and it will doubtless excite
much curiosity. It is known as L’Hiron-
delle, but it has another name in Poland
and Russia, where it has been success
fully used. One large hoop or spokeless
wheel, much larger than can be used in
any other way, surrounds the driver and
his seat, and gives to the vehicle all the
advantage of large wheels. As it rolls
along it keeps in motion three small
grooved wheels which work upon its
inner surface. These wheels are firmly
attached to the driver’s seat, which is
also rigidly connected with the shafts.
The main weight is borne by the large
wheel, but to prevent overturning there
are two outriding wheels connected by
springs with the driving wheel. The
vehicle represents an approximately suc
cessful attempt to obtain the ease of
friction afforded by a rail for the ordi
nary road vehicle. It is a tricycle in
fact, but a unicycle in appearance, and
upon smooth surfaces should afford rapid
and easy riding.
The Dude's Address.
There was a meeting of the goslings,
and one of the dudest of the dudes took
the floor and thus addressed his fellow-
sufferers :
“ You call me Birdie, and you do well
to- call him Birdie, who, for twelve
long months, has met with every shape
of scorn and jest the world could fur
nish, and with unblinking eye has stood
his tailor off continuously from week to
week. If there be one . among you who
can say that, ever in a public place, my
actions did belie my brains (cheers), let
him stand forth and measure collars with
me. If there be five in all your company
who dare face me, lot them put their
cheek on record or sell it to the butcher
for liver. And yet I was not always
thus—a dude among a lot of dudes
and dudesses. My ancestors canie over
in the steerage of the Mayflower and
settled—” at this point an old man over
in the back part of the hall, who had
slipped in surreptitiously, as it were,
sung out: “They never settled at all,
and I’ve got a bill agin ’em for groceries,
that’s been outlawed for twenty-five
years,” and the meeting was so disturbed
as to necessitate adjournment.—Nerchant-
Traveler.
False Hair.
In the days of the Emperor Trajan a
market was established in front of the
Temple of Apollo for the sale of false
hair and dyes and cosmetics of many
kinds, and it was in its time as fashion
able a rendezvous as the baths. All
Rome gathered there of a day. It was
in the glorious summer of prosperity at a
period when golden hair was the rage.
The women tried in a thousand ways to
obtain the precious tint. They bought
eagerly all kinds of preparations from
foreign countries —pojnades from Greece
and soaps from Gaul. The water from
the river Grathis, which was supposed
to possess the Midaslike virtue of turning
all it touched to gold, was one of the
most popular “ washes” ever offered to
the Roman public. When this wonder-
! ful water failed to produce the desired
result, there remained but one tiling to
be done, and that was to shave the head.
Then a fine crop of golden hair came.
It came from Germany or Gaul, and from
that day to this the trade in human hair
has continued in the hands of the French
and German merchants.
CATTLE IN A CYCLONE.
Corral the cattle ! Fling the lasso far!
Flank the will stragglers! Storm and
sleet betide.
Haste, ho! And, charging as in mimic war,
A mong the lawny herd halloing ride.
Drive them to shelter! Gain the nearest
ranch! ^
Those midnight masses rising in the east
Betoken that the heavens quick will launch
Bolts, blasts, death-sealing, on both man
and beast.
Hark to the cyclone growling from the
cloud!
The fiery funnel circling fast in rage;
Roaring with wind and water thunder-loud
Whirlwind and waterspout rude battle
. wage.
The warfare of the Titans, fatal, fierce-
Tropical forces wrestling in the sky
Puny impediments to break and pierce,
U proofing giant trunks while rushing by-
Ho ! Hurry toward the kraal ? Crowd close
ly in!
Ha, brave vaqueros, mustang-mounted,
haste!
With whip and rowel and unusual din
Urge the herd on! There is no time to
waste.
A. hundred horned heads wrecked upon the
plain—
A score of bronchos writhing on the sod—
The prairie furrowed by the ruthless train—
And half a dozen herders gone to God.
—William Y. Buttes, the Cowboy Poet.
PUNGENT PARAGBAPHS.
Shut up for a season—The pepper box.
The worse for ware—A careless servant.
An advertiser may not be superstitious,
ind still believe in signs.
Our babies—With all their faults we
tove them still, not noisy.
The Mississippi river is very low, and.
cannot leave its bed.—Picayune.
The dog has queer taste in matters of
dress. Ile wears his pants in his mouth.
—Marathon Independent.
A Little Rock man found a cake of
soap, and for days carried it as a curiosity,
as nobody could tell what it was.—Boston
Post.
“ Hereabouts, when one asks for bread
they give him a stone,” remarked a tramp
as one struck him in the
ba^-
^'o you believe in an
ace asked Ned Sothern.
small of the
after another is poked out of the foliage, i - -- -
and a high-pilched ppM uttered’ softly ; ^Ply*
leaves no doubt Ui&trtly-L my askii veach I I” _
•>; Ar if all is '
Y
: t has a ‘w’ before it..
omen?” was
“ Only whe
: Me pre
Phs su
)/.! li^tila.
60. There are. hUwevY; g--L'-la-iatio q^ churn a
consistent with health. Napoleon’s pul ^
is said to have been only 44 in the min
ute. A case is also related of f healthy
man of eighty-seven whost r /ifse was sel
dom over 30 duing the last two years of
his life and sometimes not more than 26.
Another man of eighty-seven years of age
enjoyed good health and spirits with a
pulse of 29, and there is also on record
the curious instance of a man whose pulse
in health was never more than 45, and to
be consistent in his inconsistency, when
he had fever, his pulse fell to 40, instead
of rising, as is usual.
Woolwich Arsenal.
Woolwich arsenal is the most ancient
military and naval arsenal in England.
It is situated in the town of Woolwich,
Kent county, a suburb of London, on the
right hand of the Thames, nine miles
below London bridge. Its royal dock
yard, where men-of-war were built in the
reign of Henry VIII., was closed October
1, 1869. The royal arsenal was formed
about 1720 on the site of a rabbit war-
ren. It covers more
ground and contains
great guns, mortars,
warlike stores, also
many furnaces for
than 100 acres of
vast magazines of
bombs and other
a foundry, with
casting • ordnance,
thin feathers on the
jut ths Il-
Chinamen make good acton. They
never forget their cues. Fishermen do
not succeed on the stage. They steal
one another’s lines.
It is very unlucky to have thirteen at
a table—particularly when there is only
enough to satisfy the appetite of ten.—
Philadelphia Bulletin.
When a poor widow finds a load of wood
left gratuitously at her door she can con
clude that she has struck a tender chord
somewhere.— The Judge.
A Southern paper says: “All the
Alabama factories are making money.”
They’ll be arrested for counterfeiting if
they don’t stop.—Statesman.
“You see that young gentleman oppo
site? You should know him. He conies
from a very old family.” “Indeed! and
he so fresh!”—Boston Transcript.
Bacon said that “reading maketh a
full man,” but Bacon appears to be ob
livious of the fact that many other things
are more often used than reading for that
purpose.
A health journal advises, “Do not lie
on the left side.” This is a very proper
admonition. If you are obliged to lie, be
careful and lie on the right side. You
will find it pays in the end.—Lowell Citi
zen.
When a boy receives a long lecture in
Sunday-school on the evil effects of
smoking, and then meets the superinten
dent on Monday morning with a cigar in
his mouth, he is apt to think that there
is a fraud somewhere.—Yonkers Gazette.
and a great laboratory, where
fireworks, cartridges, grenades, etc.,
are made for the public service. A prac- 1
tice ground is attached, nearly three,
miles in range. The government ord-!
nance is all proved at Woolwich. The !
garrison there usually amounts: to about ;
3,500 men. The establishments at Wool-
wich arsenal which are immediately un- 1
der the control of the ordnance bureau I hygroscopicity of the cloth,
are the royal laboratory, the royal brass [ do; but, as singular as it may appear,
foundry, and the royal carnage depart- many persons buy a coat and never give
ment. * The royal gun manufactory at . a thought to its hygroscopicity. This is
Waltham Abbey and the manufactory at ; a great mistake.—Norristown Herald.
Enfield for finishing small arms, also the 1 . . ^ n-_x -i -
A physician says: “ In buying clothing
care should be taken to investigate the
,” We always
storekeeper's department at.the Tower
and Woolwich and the branch depart-
An agricultural paper says that chick
ens should.not be fed immediately after
| they are hatched. And the agricultural
.... p 1 iron 1c
ment _of the storekeepers and deputy 1 paper is quite right. When we break an
storekeepers tlrroughout the United King- e gg open, and find a young chicken
dom and the colonies are also parts of striving to gain a foothold in the. world
the establishment. we never think of eating it. No, indeed.
On May 20,1802, the Woolwich arsenal, | not us !—^feman.
storehouses, etc., were burned at a loss
of £200,000. Another great fire occurred
there on June 30, 1805. On January 20,
1813, there was a fatal explosion of gun-.
powder; on July 8, of the same year, ;
the hemp store was totally destroyed/by :
fire, and on June 16, 1814, there was
another explosion of gunpowder. The
Royal Military academy adjoining the
arsenal was nearly destroyed by fire,
entailing a loss of about £100,000, on
February 1, 1873. Among other great
pieces of ordnance cast at Woolwich was
the experimental gun called the “ Wool
wich Infant,” in May, 1814. It weighs
thirty tons, was twenty-seven feet long,
carried 1,650 pounds of shot and used
300 pounds of gunpowder.
A Change of Mind.
“James!” he began, as he called the
clerk into the private office, “your con
duct is such that 1 can no longer retain
you in my employ. You do not hesitate
to lie and cheat, and you are drunk at
least twice a week.” “All right,”
responded the elerk. “I got news yes
terday of a legacy of $75,000 !” “To a
cent.” “Cash money ?” “All cash.”
“ Then I’ll sell you a partnership interest
in the business, and we’ll make things
hum! Ha! Let me congratulate you!
Just such a partner as I'd pick among a
thousand ?”— Wall Street News.
Dwarfs usually die of premature old
age, it is said, and giants of exhaustion,
The small boy sneaked across the floor
With step as light as air ;
His smiling face no traces bore
Of sorrow or of care ;
But ere he reached the closed door.
To snatch the dainties there, '
His mother’s palpitating paw
Was fastened in his hair.
P
—New York Morning Journal.
When Lord Coleridge returns to hi 9
j ua’lve ’eath and writes a book about
America, we trust he will not say that
i Chicago is a larger State than Hoboken;
! that Louisville is an isthmus that con-
I nects California and Hartford; that the
! Hudson river is a beautiful city; that the
I Alleghanies are a lovely archipelago; and
that Idaho is the capital of Brooklyn.—
| Puck.
A Horse-Shoe in the Heart of a Tree.
I A few weeks since out on the Louis
: IIor : ‘’ \ _ ..~, while engaged in sawing
| lumber/the saw struck a hard substance,
: and stopped. Upon examining the matter
1 it was found to have been caused by the
j teeth coming in contact with a horse-
shoe. The log squared one foot in thick-
1 ness where the shoe was found, and the
' horse-shoe was exactly in the heart of the
i tree, and at about the distance of six or
i sevt-M.! ' lithe ground. The wood
! had grown over and around the shoo and
| the nails, the latter having the appear-
' ance of being driven into the wood. The
j tree from which the log was taken is
J what is known as the water-oak.—Divert
side (Mo.) Press.