THE CHARLOTTE MESSENGER
YOL. 111. N 0.15
THE
Charlotte Messenger
18 PUBLISHED
Every Saturdy,
AT
CHARLOTTE, N. C.
th© Interests of the Colored People
•of the Country.
Ahle and well-known writers will contrib
\ite to its columns from different parts of the
•country, and it will contain the latest Gen
•eral News of the day.
The Messenger is a first-class newspaper
and will not allow i>ersonal abuse in its col
umns It is not sectarian or partisan, but
independent—dealing fairly by all. It re
serves the righ tto criticise the shortcomings
of all public officials—commending the
worthy, and recommending for election such
i»’en as in its opinion are best suited to serve
the interests ot the people.
It is intended to supply the long felt need
of a newspaper to advocate the rights and
defend the inter.sts of the Negro-American,
especially in the Piedmont section of the
Carolinas.
SUBSCRIPTIONS:
{Always in Advance.)
1 year $1 50
IS months - - - 100
0 months ... 75
4 months - - SO
3 months - - - 40
Address,
W. C. SMITH, Charlotte, N. C
There is at least one “forehanded”
citiV.en in Massachusetts. An old man
of West Salem township, Mercer county,
is engaged in making his own coffin and
hearse, and he is building the posthum
ous articles regardless of expense. It is
said that he conceived the idea out of
pique at a remark of a neighbor, “that
when he died he wouldn’t have money
enough to bury him.”
Who shall explain the love of women
Tor brass buttons? The Rochester Herald
asserts that army officers are not rich
men, but they pick up wives very easily.
Early marriages are common among
officers, owing, perhaps, to the fixity
of their pay aud position, and many of
them, immediately on being graduated,
take the woman with whom they have
danced the most cadet germans to share
their two rooms and slls a month and
allowances. The class graduated at West
Point in June numbered seventy-seven
members. Os these eight were married
before September.
The Pall Mall Gazettee and the British
Medical Journal are engaged in a discus
sion that is of interest to marksmen.
The latter says that the form er is exer
cising itself as to the best color of the
©ye for rifle shooting. Arguing from a
general impression that the best riflo
shots have blue eyes, it concludes that
eyes with bluish or grayish irides are
less subject to the effects of mirage than
those of darker color. It is scarcely
neeessary to say that such conclusion
has not, so far, been verified by scientific
observation. Assuming it to be the fact
that light-eyed people are better shots,
this cannot reside in their greater immu
nity from refractive errors, since we may
say certainly that no such immunity
exists, for the blue-eyed Germans
are, as is well-known, the most sub
ject to myopia of all nations. The
matter then rests for the present in
doubt, unless we may assume peo
ple of Sa&>n and Scandinavan blood
excel in rifle shooting in the same way.
and for the same reasons, as in all othei
outdoor exercises involving skill and
nerve.
If the average reader were to be asked
to name that State of the Union which
can sfliow the longest railroad mileage, he
would in all probability designate New
York or Pennsylvania. Cut he would be
mistaken. Os all the States, Illinois
heads the list with 18, GO I miles of rail
way, while far behind come Pennsylvania
with 7,707 miles, lowa with 7,503, New
York with 7,385 miles, and Ohio with
7,327 miit.,. Texas comes next, with
0,087 miles. Os all others, Indiana and
Michigan alone have over 5,000 miles,
while Wisconsin, Missouri, Kansas and
Minnesota have over 4,000, and Georgia
and California have over 3,000. Illinois
has a longer railroad mileage than New
York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Dela
ware and Maryland put together; New
England as a not more than
0,309 miles of railway. In the amount
of capital stock New York is first with
$108,32,’,777; then follow, in the order
named, Pennsylvania, Ohio and Illinois,
in which States alone the capital stock
exceeds $300,000,000. In bonded debt
Pennsylvania stands highest, with $426,-
570,204: after her come New York, Ohio
and Illinois, each with over $300,000,000.
The surplus of assets over liabilities is
highest in Illinois, being $64,841,913;
then follow Maryland with $47,867,675;
California, $12,152,850; Nebraska, $31,-
655, 171); Missouri, over $10,000,000.
The surplus of liabilities over assets is
largest in Indiana, being $13,969,395;
New York, $13,376,072; and Georgia,
$9,03 <,505,
A SONG OF RBST.
Oh weary Hands! that, all the day,
Were set to labor hard and long,
New softly fall the shadows gray,
The bells are rung for even song,
An hour ago the golden sun
Sank slowly down into the west;
Poor, weary Hands, your toil is done;
’Tis time for rest!—’tis time for restl
Oh weary Feet! that many a mile
Have trudged along a stony way,
At last ye reach the trysting stile;
No longer fear to go astray.
The gentle bending, rustling trees
Rock the young birds within the nest;
And softly sings the quiet breeze:
“ ’Tis time for rest!—’tis time for restl”
Oh weary Eyes! from which the tears
Fell many a time like thunder rain—
Oh weary Heart! that through the years
Beat with such bitter, restless pain,
To-night forget the stormy strife,
And know, what Heaven shall send is best?
Lay down the tangled web of life;
’Tis time for rest!—’tis time for rest!
—Florence Tylee, in Chambers's Journal.
A VALIANT DEFENCE.
A defence in which were combined
pluck, endurance, suffering and despera
tion was that of Captain Swift and his
five near the forks of the Big
Cheyenne. They were all citizens, and
all on their way into the Black Hills
country 011 foot. Swift had been a Cap
tain in a border company raised to fight
Indians in Northern Nebraska, and was
the only one in the lot who had ever met
a hostile. Swift and two companions
found the other three prospectors near
the forks, and it was agreed that all
should push further west in company.
Every man was armed with a Winches
ter and two revolvers, and each carried
several hundred rounds of ammunition.
The men had broken camp five miles be
low the forks, and were on the south
bank of the main stream, when they
were attacked by thirty-five mounted In
dians. The whites were on foot and
had the shelter of timber along the
banks, and, although they were harassed
for a couple of hours, 110 one was hurt,
and the march was not greatly retarded.
However, as they reached the forks the
force of Indians suddenly increased to
over 100, and, as they not only barred
the way but had cut off retreat, Swift re
alized that the little band must go into
camp and prepare for a siege. They
drove the Indians down the south fork
about half a mile until getting possession
of a bluff which was well covered with
timber, and here they intrenched. A nat
ural sink was deepened with hatchets
and knives, a few rocks and limbs were
piled around the edges, and the men got
into the rifle pit, knowing that the odds
were twenty to one. and that there could
not be the faintest hope of re-enforce
ments.
The Indians could not approach the
bluff except underfire. After they had
maintained a fusillade for upward of an
hour without harm to the party, they
sent forward a flag of truce by a half
bre d who could speak English tolerably
well. Swift went forward to the edge
of the timber to meet him, aud the men
in the pit were warned to be on their
guard against treachery, and to shoot
down any other Indian who sought to
approach while a parley was being held.
The half breed came forward without
fear. It was evidently his ob ect to get
near enough to see what sort of a de
fense the men had erected, and to be
certain of their number; but Swift
baffled him in this by meeting him out
side the timber. The two were in rifle
shot of both forces, and as the half breed
rode up he demanded the immediate sur
render of the party. He said that one
hundred and twenty Indians were on the
ground, with others coming up in the
afternoon, end that it was folly for the
white men to think of holding out
against such a force. 111 case of sur
render, they would be disarmed and set
at liberty to make their way out of the
country, but if the Indians were com
pelled to fight them to a surrender they
could expect no mercy.
Swift replied that his party did not
seek war with the red men. They were
going into the Black Hills with hun
dreds of others to prospect for gold, and
only asked to be let alone. They had
been attaeked without provocation, and
they should light to the bitter end. The
half bred had his rifle lying across his
saddle while he talked, while Swift
leaned on his The Captain suspected
what would follow his refusal to sur
-1 coder. The half breed once more put
his demand, and as it was refused he
suddenly raised his weapon and fired at
Bwift, aud then wheeled his pony. The
men were not over ten feet apart,and the
bullet passed between Swift’s left arm
and his side, cutting through his coat.
Had he raised his rifle to lire a return
shot he would have been a dead man,
for the action of the half breed was the
signal for fifty Indian rifles to ring out.
Swift dropped in his tracks aud crept
back to the rifle pit unharmed; he
was avenged before he reached it. One
of the men had kept the half breed eov.
ered with his Winchester, and as he
turned to gallop away lie received a bul
let in the back which flung him from
the saddle and left him dead on the
ground. The redskins had been beaten
at their own game, and they gave vent to
their chagrin and anger in shouts and
yells and individual demonstrations. In
ten minutes they were tiring all along the
line, and some of them took advantage of
the ground to approach within pistol
shot of the rifle pit.
Bwift’s instructions to the men were
not to waste a bullet. The Indians lad
to expose themselves more or lass, aud
by watching for opportunities and keep
ing cool the men in the pit made sozbe
telling shots. Before sundown they had
killed or wounded a do/.cn savages and
forced the others to exercise far greater
CHARLOTTE, N. C. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1886.
caution. Not over thirty shots were fired
from the pit during the afternoon. As
night approached the want of water be
gan to be felt. No one had had a drop
since morning. One of the men crept
track to the b mk of the river to see what
the prospects were for getting down to
the water, and he was instantly killed by
a bullet fired from the other side of the
stream. Ilis fate was not known until
darkness came on aud a second man went
to look for him. The bank was very
steep, twelve or fourteen feet high, and
it would have been extremely dirticult to
get down to the stream had there been
no danger. The attempt to secure
water was abandoned for the time. All
the provisions in tire party were in a raw
state, and, of course, no fire could be
lighted. Soou after dark the fire of the
Indians ceased entirely. They probably
reasoned that it was only a question of a
few hours more when the white men
would fall into their hands, and they had
main!a ned such a hot fire through the
day that their ammunition must have
been running low.
The death of Wolcott cast a gloom over
the party, but no one weakened. Along
toward midnight, when everything had
grown very quiet, Capt. Swift tried for
water. A cottonwood leaned off over
the bank until one in its top would be
over the water. A canteen was lowered
bya rope after Swift got into position,
but some slight noise was made, which
caused the Indians on the opposite bank
to open fire, and c; fore Swift could de
scend from the tree a bullet wounded him
in the calf of the leg. He crept back to
the rifle pit and bandaged the wound,
and in fifteen minutes would have given
a year of his n-'o for a pirt of water.
Various metrds so ob'aiiing what all
now really s “e r d for were suggested
a«d rejected. There was rely one way.
I* must be got from th tree if at all. Ad
Lour or two after S -i!t was shot a man
named Cooper crept out on the tree and
lowered the canteen, He succeeded in
drawing up a few swallows of water,and
at once hastened to Swift. The Captain’s
wound had of course set him in a fever,
and while he could have gulphed down
a quart he had only a gill. Cooper re
turned to the tree, and in lowering the
canteen lost it. Another rope was extem
porized and a coffee pot lowered, but the
Indians in some manner got a hint of
what was going on and again opened fire.
While Cooper was not wounded, he was
driven to the pit, and all further hope of
securing water was abandoned. Not a man
slept a wink during the night, it being
generally understood that the Indians
might make a rush any moment. As
early dawn came a shot was fired from
the top of a tree in the edge of the grove,
which strucic a man named Abuocc la me
head and killed him instantly. A sec
ond shot immed’ately followed, but hit
no one. It was at once discoverd that
two Indian sharpshooters had climbed
into the tree during the night, and from
their elevation could look down into the
rifle pit. They could not he seen, but
two of the men opened a rapid fire on
tire tree, and after about twenty-five
shots had been fired both redskins were
tumbled to the ground. Their fall was
the signal for the ball to open all along
the line, and again the bullets whizzed
over the pit like legions of angry bees.
The Indians were pretty cautious about
exposing themselves, but during the
forenoon three of them were seen to drop,
either hard hit or killed outright.
From noon to 5 o’clock not a shot was
fired on cither side, and from 5 to sun
down the Indians fired only about a
dozen times—sufficient to warn the white
| men that the siege was still on. Hunger
| now compelled the men to eat raw bacon
and Hour, and the torments of thirst
were increased. Swift suffered far more
than the others, being wounded, but not
a compla nt jms-ed his l'ps. He was too
| stiff and sore to leave the pit, but about
10 o’clock one of the men volunteered to
try for water. Some of the Indians had
swam across, and were located under the
bank. While they could not climb it, or
at least did not. they were at hand to
prevent the men from getting water.
It was Foster who went out on the
| tree this time, and he had not yet low
ered the vessel when a bullet knocked
his cap off, a second struck the stock of
h s rille, and a third went through the
; coffee pot. Ho reached the pit un
wounded, however, and Swift advised
that no one else should e pose himself.
They dug up the roots around them and
got slight consolation from chewing
them, and again the morning broke. It
soon became evident that the Indians in
tended to finish their work. They were
whooping and shouting all along the
line, and seemed in good spirits.
An hour after daylight the whole line
advanced on the pit. each redskin work
ing along under the best shelter he could
find. There were only four men to de
fend the pit, but armed as they were.and
desperate as they had become, the odds
were not so great. They tired coolly yet
rapidly, and they not only halted the
line, but at one point wh re three bucks
were killed within ten seconds of ea h
other a panic occurred. Thirty or more
Indians rose up in a body for a rush, but
the fire broke them before they had made
a lump. The four men had the six rifles,
and their revolvers were lying beside
| them for the emergency which all ex
pected. The peril of the morning did
not last twenty minutes. The baffled In
dians retreated back to their old posi
tion, and about 9 o’clock withdrew so
quietly that their going was not sus
pected for another hour. They went > n
mane , leaving not even a scout behind.
When the four men had secured water
and something to eat they took a look
over the battle ground. Tho carca-scs of
seven ponies had been left bes ind, and
there were plenty of blooct-tsins to prove
that their Winchesters had not thrown
away all their lead A Dog Sioux, who
was afterward employed as a scout at
Fort Sully, told the military authorities
that thirteen Indians were killed and
twenty-one wounded in the fight, and
that they felt themselves fairly whipped.
Other Indians reported the number killed
at nineteen, and the wounded at thirty,
but they asserted that the number of
white men was fourteen.— New York Sun.
Sensitive Animals.
A gentleman who recently made a trip
on horseback through the mountain re
gion of the West, evidently made an ob
servation which was to him a discovery.
In writing an account of his ourney, he
says: “The behavior of our saddle horses
was very amusing, and showed the
prairie life plainly. The moment they
felt the cold storm they turned their
backs around toward it and dropped
their heads, and took no little urging to
induce them to proceed, as at eacli gust
they would whirl their tai's toward it as
if turned by a crank.”
The writer seems to have thought the
conduct of his horses peculiar to those
bred upon the prairies. It was, how
ever, just what any horses would do un
der the circumstances, no matter from
what part of the world they were
brought. It should be known to all
drivers of horses with what reluctance
these animate face a storm or even a
chilling wind. It may be quite reason
able to drive before the wind on a stormy
day, when it would be positively cruel
to go over the road in the opposite di
re tion
It is convenient to know this habit of
the horse in case an animal has strayed
away during a storm or a high wind. It
will be found to have gone in the direc
tion of the wind.
The habit of the sheep is just the con
trary. This annimal steadily faces the
storm, holds its head well up, and is in
clined to move forward. No domestic
animals give their keepers so much
trouble by wandering off in stormy and
boisterous weather as do sheep; but the
shepherds are saved much oi the trouble
they might have iu finding their flocks
by making search in a direction against
the wind.
This instinctive action of horses and
sheep is common to all breed-, and is in
herited from their undomesticated pro
genitors. Whatever may have been the
origin of these habits, we can turn n
knowledge of the facts to good account
in giving our horses more rational care
and treatment. — Youth's Companion.
. Destructive Sand Drifts.
On the south shore of the Baltic the
Bins of reckless forefathers are being
cruelly visited upon their descendants.
Two hundred years ago the coasts of
Prussia were defended by a bulwark of
magnificent beech forests, that resist"' 1
the inroads ot floods and dunes; but
about the time of the great elector the
work of devastation began and continued
until some.lo,OOP square miles of wood
lands had been turned into naked sand
hills. Now nature is getting her revenge.
Year after year the rains and strong floods
have washed out the remaining vegetable
Ifilm of those hills, leaving nothing but
sand and gravel, which gradually accu
mulated in towering dunes, and at last
invaded the landward settlements with a
perfect avalanche of drift sand.
Seen from the village of Schwarzori,
fifty miles northeast of Koenigsberg, the
destruction dealing sand ridge looms up
to a height of 120 feet, naked and steep,
ever rising by additional depo-its brought
in by the sand laden sea storms, and ever
threatening to discharge those deposits
upon the southern valleys. The fisher
hamlets of Altnegeln and Karwaiten
were literally submerged by a single
storm, and the little town of Pilkuppen
had twice to he moved, with all its
buildings and fences. The remaining
vestiges of the ancient woodlands ar.:
unable to stay the mischief. A fine for
est near Schwarzort has been turned into
a sand bank, crowned by the withered
tops of beech trees, which a year’s work
of the entire coast population would fail
to rescue from their sand grave. — Ftlii
L. Oswald.
Married by Proxy.'
Mrs. Antoinette Puppo, a Castilian
widow living in Galveston, Texas, was
married to Juan B. Marsan. On account
at ill health he went to live in Monterey,
Mexico, she accompanying him. She
became well acquainted there with Senor
Piazzini, and when her husband died,
liter his return to Galveston, she noti
‘led the senor that she was a willow. He
then authorized Senor Calosia of Galves
ton to marry him (Piaz ini) to the widow
md to sign the contract before the au
thorized judge, as he could not leave
Mexico. Accordingly the • license was
procured, and Luciana Calosia, for Cal
iieto Piazzini, and Mrs. Antoinette
Puppo, widow of Juan Martan. ap
peared l.efore Justice Spann, (aiosia
acting ns agent and attorney in fact for
Piazzini, and were married. lmme
iiately after the ceremony the bride left
to join her husband, I iazzini. L. Colo
lia, the proxy in this instance, was mar
ried to Miss Marie Campos ui.as of Kiv
jdco, province of I.ugo, Spain, in Au
gust, 1884, F. B. Calosia appearing as
proxy under power of attorney and bj
certificate of the Spanish consul of that
city. A sister of Mr. Calosia, a resident
as 'Spain, was married in a similar man
ner to a gentleman in South America.
The law covering the case is said to be
included in the United States statutes.
Her Answer,
I asked for lier band and
She murmured “Oh, my!”
And gave me a smile front
Her love-swimming oy
She gave me her hand, w hit
Caressing hor poodle,
And said, I am yours, sir,
If you've got the b icdle.
—ftoston Courier.
The average cost of a contested Eng
lish election is $2,000.
A CITY’S ACTIVE FIREMEN.
i
CELERITY WITH WHICH STBHB
ABE HANDLED IN NEW YOBK.
Firemen Ready a Few Seconds After
the Alarm Gong Strikes—Ma
chinery and Methods.
Alluding to [the quick time made by
city firemen in starting ior fires when
I the alarm gong strikes in the engine
houses, a writer says in the New ) ork
j Sun: When Patrol A went to the fire on
j Friday night, Lieut. Hewson and Patrol
j Sergeant Smith jumped into their clothes
so fast that the Suit reporter couldn’t
j time them.
“Twelve seconds is the average time
it takes a fireman to dress w hen an alarm
start* him out of bed at night,” Sergeant
Smith said, “and I'll bet SIOO to $1 as
many times as anybody wants to take the
odds that we have men here who can
dress in six seconds every time they
want to."
The essential thing in putting fires out
in a hurry is to get the machinery there,
as well as the men who handle it. And
it is in this essential thing about the
science of handling fires that our Fire
Commissioners think the department
comes as near perfection as it is possible
for human ingenuity to reach. Improve
ment after improvement has been made,
until now the loss of time in hitching has
been reduced apparently absolutely to the
minimum. There are only two things
about it that aren’t automatic. These
are the movement of the horses from the
stalls to their places beside the engine
shaft, and the snapping of the collars
over their necks by the watchman. And
both these are done in such a perfect
way that they are as good as automatic
anyhow. Automatic machinery does all
of “ the rest of the work quick enough
to make your head swim if you try
to time the details. The instant the
operator at Fire Headquarters opens
the circuit to send an alarm the
current drops a metal ball right
beside the gong. The ball strikes,
presses down a bar of brass, and pulls a
steel wire that automatically unbitches
the springs at the sides of the stalls that
hold the halters of the horses. The ham
mer of the gong, simultaneously with
the first alarm stroke, stops the little
‘ ‘rec ord” clock that is perched on a shelf
beside the gong, and thus automatically
keeps a record of the time consumed in
going to a fire, putting it out, and re
turning. By comparing the little clock
with the big clock on the wall that is
kept going all the time, the Captain of
the company can tell at a glance just
how long it took to do any given piece
of work The harness is alwnvs sus
pended over the shait Dy an automatic
iron “hanger.” It is held in position
there by strings. When the driver grabs
the reins the tension loosens the springs,
the harnesses drop down upon the horses,
the watchman snaps the collars around
the horse’s necks, and automatic weights
attached to little pulleys in the ceiling
carry the framework of the “hanger” up
over head out of the way. Improve
ments are steadily being made in the
collars that the fire horse 3 wear. They
are made in two sections, fastened with
a hinge at the top, and snap together
with an automatic steel spring lock. Col
lars made of cast iron have recently been
introduced in some of the engine hoifses.
They are sixteen pounds lighter than the
leather collars, which weigh thirty six
pounds each, and they are considered
more durable aud serviceable. These
collars can be fastened around the horses’
necks in a fraction of a second.
No time whatever is now lost in find
ing out where a fire alarm is originally
| sent from. Placards upon which are the
number of every regular alarm box in
town, with its location, arc hung up on
1 the walls of file engine house on tha
ground floor, behind the Captain’s desk.
I The Captain glances at the placard while
the men are getting ready, and shouts
the location of the tire to the driver the
| moment the last stroke of the alarm is
! struck. Many big buddings in town have
within the list few months introduced a
new automatic special alarm, which saves
the time lo t in transmitting an alarm
from a regular street box. It consists of
an electrical contrivdnce hitched on to
the ceiling of each floor of the building
and attached to a very sensitive wire. A
certain dangerous degree of heat in any
particular floor, uo matter how generated,
will cause the wire to expand and start
a current that drops a disk in the engine
. houses of the district in which the build
ing is located, and on this disk is in
: scribed not only the exact location of the
building, but al-o the exact part of the
building in which the fire, or the heat
that is great enough to produce fire if not
checked, has broken out.
There is a perennial competition among
the various tire companies in the de
partment for the honor of being known
as the company that gets there first when
ever an alarm comes in. Engine Ail,
: which belongs in Great Jones street, has
been the cock of the walk for a long
time. Bhe won the prize at the horse
show for swiftness in getting ready. The
men can get her in shape to start in less
than two seconds in an exhibition test,
and the hum-drum every-day work of
hitching up and getting away is never
more than five or six seconds.
Great as is tho clficiency of tho appar
atus for extinguishing fires, still further
improvements are contemplated. Com
; missioner l’urroy is trying to have an
electric lantern perfected that will en
able the firemen to see into buildings
through thick smoke, and that won't go
out and leave them in darkness, as the
present oil lanterns do. The (onimis
sioncr’s brother wants to rig up a double
stage arrangement in every engine house,
that will enable two engines to be kept
in each house and thus double the ca
pacity of the depayment to fight fires.
When one engine has gone to a fire, the
other, by tire proposed plan, can be
hoisted out of tho cellar and be kept in
, iustau i readiness to answer a call for re-
Tenns. $1.50 per Aim Single Copy 5 cents.
enforcements. Proud Gothamites think
that the department beats all creation
now as it is. It it should get the elec
tric lantern and the double stage they
are certain that it would be far ahead
of anything ever dreamed of anywhere by
anybody iq creation.
How Animals are Slaughtered.
The writer asked Mr. P. W. I.uley, of
St. Paul, Minn., who was recently iu
Cincinnati in attendance upon the Na
tional Butchers’ Association, if butchers
made it an object to kill their meat ani
mals with as little pain as possible?
“We certainly do,” quickly responded
the skilled cleaver wielder; “and more
than that, I can almost safely say that
it is done without a particle of pain.
This latter is especially true of cattle.”
“What is the new process for killing
cattle?”
“There are two ways that can be done
without suffering, in this country, where
they have the appliances, a number of
bullocks are fastened in a row of small
box stalls just large enough for them to
stand in, with dimensions of about two
and a half by eight feet. Then the
butcher, who knows exactly where to
cut, goes through with a.knife the shape
of a dagger, only much larger, and with
one Stab severs the spinal cord just back
of the head on the neck. The animal is
instantly killed, and never knows what
struck it.”
“Is oue animal allowed to see another
killed?”
“Under no circumstances. These stalls
that I speak of are six feet high and are
perfectly tight,so al! that kind of cruelty
is avoided.”
“In this manner how rapidly are cattle
butchered?”
“At the rate of about one per minute
for each man; sixty in an hour if you
wished.”
“How about the hogs?"
“They are killed and dressed more
rapidly than anything else. In first-class
slaughter houses they are stretched up
by the hind leg BDd fastened to a pulley
that runs the length of the room, and are
run along on that, the workmen being
stationed a certain distance apart, and
by the time a hog gets to the end, which
only takes about a minute, it is butch
ered, scalded, scraped, cleaned and cut
up. The man that sticks them handles
about six every minute, IICO an hour, or
8,(i40 a day. In this way, you see, but
little time for suffering is given.”
“How are fowls killed?”
“Turkeys have to be dressed with
their heads on, but an expert can cut
their throats from the inside so that they
will die in a very short time. Chickens
are beheaded by machinery as fast as
vnn could count., . / tiior.J l'a 1..C8 V '
provement m tnc butchering of fowls
than any other that I know of.”
“What kind of animals arc killed with
the least pain?”
“Well, I should think that cattle are.
They are killed instantly, and I can't see
that there can ever be much imurovc
ment on the present process In Ger
many they are killed in a different way,
but abo it as rapidly and with as little
paiu. There they are fastened in a stall,
open in front, and the hitcher goes along
to their heads with a mall and a sharp
steel instrument that he drives through
their frontal bone aud the brain with a
single blow, causing instant death.
Then, of course, they are bled by cutting
the throat.”
The Natural Bridge.
A correspondent of the New York Star
who has been visiting the Natural Bridgo
in Virginia thus describes this great piece
of Nature’s handiwork:
A sudden turn to the right, and di
rectly ahead loomed up the Natural
Bridge in bold and rugged outline against
the Western sky, lightened with all the
glories of a southern sunset. Imagi nc an
immense mass of solid rock, some forty
feet thick and fifty feet broad, spanning
a chasm seventy-five feet in width at u
height of 210 feet. On the eastern side
is a jagged place where an immense mass
of rock has fallen. When it fell it is im
possible to say, but it must have been
centuries ago, as not a particle of debris
remains iu the chasm below. The rock
is a bluish limestone, streaked with faint
lines of white. '1 he grain is very fine
and firm, and one loses at first the im
pressiveness and ma estic grandeur of
the bridge in speculating on the tre
mendous force that scooped out, as it
were, the immense mass of •rock and
earth that at some time filled the glen.
On the under side of the bridge, and al
most in the, entre, the lichens and mosses
have so grown as to almost represent the
American eagle, with outstretched wings,
clasping the shield in its talons. Well
authenticated records state that this pe
culiar growth existed’in the middle of
the eighteenth century. Standing about
i a hundred feet west of the bridge, and
j looking back under it, a well-defined
! profile likeness of a young woman may
lie seen. From the road above, the
I bridge cannot be seen, nor is there any
I indicatioq of its existence, unless one
j leaves the roadway and goes about twenty
i feet to the west. From this point the
i smallstream rushingthrough the glen and
under the.bridge may be seen some 250
feet below. _
Cremation in France.
Four crematory furnaces are in course
of erection at the far-famed Farisisn
cemetery, Pere-laChaise, and will be
ready for operation in a short t ine.
These furnaces, which have tho outward
appearance of ornamental o en-. are
built on the model of those in use at
j Home and Milan. The cost of crema
-1 tion will be fifteen francs only—to rich
and poor alike. It in said that already
sculptors and metal workers sre busy in
; designing and producing cinerary urns
for the preservation of the ashes from
these furnacis. These vessels will, at
i the option of the relatives of the dead,
be removed to lamily vaults, or will be
deposited in a building which is to be
erected by the city of Paris for their re
( caption.