THE CHARLOTTE MESSENGER VOL. 111. NO. 23 THE Charlotte Messenger 18 PUBLISHED Every Saturday, AT CHARLOTTE, N, C. In the Interests of the Colored People of the Country. Able and well-known writers will eontrih me to its columns from different ,ini-t> of the country, and it will contain th* Mest Gen -ml News of the day. Tun Messenger fa n first- clam newspaper uiel will not allow personal abuse in its col - nnns It is tint sectarian or partisan, but independent—dealing fairly by all. It re serves the rich tto criticise the shortcomings •of oil public officials— commending the •worthy, and recommending for election such men .as m its opinion are best suited to serve the interests of the people. It is intended to supply the long felt need of a newspaper to advocate the rights and defend the in jer trts v,f the Negi-o-Ameriean, especially in tie Piedmont section of the Caroluias. SUBSCRIPTIONS: (Always in Advance.) . I year - . . „ M N months - - - 100 0 months ... 4 months - - kq o months , - - «. 40 Address, W. C. SMITH, Charlotte, N C Last year 10:1,000 persons signed the pledge in Pennsylvania and Ohio at meet ings ee relucted.by Francis Murphy and his sot. Curious Facts of Dentistry. There is said to be a remarkable change in the condition of their teeth among the nejrroes at the South since the aboli tion of slavery. This is attributed largely to changes in food, whereby more line wheat flour and more sweets are eaten than were eaten formerly. I i addition lo the injurious effects upon one’s teeth from improper food, the Popular Science ,\cim adds: “Another important case of dental decay is the undue demand upon nervous energy, probably often combined with insufficient or improper ailment. Ilecent observations have shown that carious teeth are common in modern schools in proportion to the educational standard adopted, and that the children in the higher grades have lout of all pro portion to their more advanced ago) worse teeth than those below them; while cories have not infrequently been ob served to begin suddenly, or to extend rapidly,during the period of examination strain.” One of the famous women’s rights women of the West is the Lev. Miss Atmie Shaw, and good stories are told of her pluck and smartness. Once wheD she was riding through the lumber region of Michigan the driver began to talk insultingly. Miss Shaw stood it for half an hour, and then suddenly drew a Derringer from the folds of her gar ments, and said very quietly : “You low, contemptible brute; utter anothei word of that sort, and I'll shoot you like a dog.” The threat was sufficient. The mau did not utter a syllabic the rest of the trip. He helped to get a large con gregation for her at the settlement, “be cause,” he said, “lie liked her grit.” Once at a public meeting a speaker who had been discoursing on the traits of strong-minded women, among others that of wearing short hair, suddenly turned to Miss Shaw and asked: “By the w-ay, did you acquire that habit, Miss Shaw;” “Sir, I was born so,” was the answer.” In spite of the dull times for business during the last three years the mileage cf new railways laid during 1886 wit surpass that of any previous year in the country’s history save 1881 and 1882. The Iluiluay Age, which has kept the re cord of advancement in this kind of cn terprise, predicted in July last that the total new railway mileage of 1880 would not fall short of 6,000 miles, and in its last isaue it says: “Track laying has beer in progress this year in thirty-nine of the forty seven State* and Territories on 2I( lines, and no less than 6,180 miles of new main truck, not counting Bidings anc additional tracks, have been added t< the railway sja'.em of the United State* since January 1. Hemembcringtbat the total new mileage of 1885 was only 0,181 miles, and that of 1885 only 8,825 miles, the record for the first ten montha of the present year will be accn to indicate an • astonishing increase of activity. A large additional mileage will be ready for the track before the end of the year. We are now certain that the new railway mileage of 1886 will prove to lie not leat than 7.000 miles, while if the weathoi continues favorable it may coneidernbly exceed that figure. ’ The activity thui far has been confined chiefly to the Northwestern and Missouri lliver States but the railway enterprises which are projected now in the South make the outlook for 1987 sxceptionally bright, J X LIFE. BCTlfftUIIl. Down In tiro galdta meadow, Golden with buttercups spread €>he stands with tho sunset glory Full on her golden head, She is the one fair maiden In all of this world for me, She whom through life I’ll cherisi; With love and true constancy. winter. Softly the light of the sunset * Falls on hor ?now white hair, Years upon years we havo wandered, Hand-clasped through this world*?! care. The sunset of life is upon us. But baok through the dim mist of years I look with a prayer of thanksgiving, To tho vows kept in sunshine—or tears, * —1). J. Caught an, in the Current. IN A TRANCE. BY FRANCES E. WADLEIOII. The first sound that I can remember hearing was the slam of a door; I pre sume it roused me from my stupor, or whatever my previous state might have been; then I heard my brother-in-law tsy: ‘‘Shut those windows, please; there’s draught enough to kill a do/en well peo ple! And, lvitty, have one of the ser vants bring that little air tight stove down from the trunkFoom, and then see that there is a gentle fire kept up here at least until midday to morrow. I will be back in a few moments.” 1 had been trying to open my lips to say something, to ask why I was lying in my bed at this hour of the day, or to re quest my sister Kitty to put another blanket on the bed; but I could not utter a word. While I was wondering what ailed me and why I felt so queer, one of the servants, who had entered with the little stove, said to her companion: “Sure an’ the masher's that quare! Niver before did I hearofanny one want in’ to kape a dead man warrum; begorra, some o’ thira gets warrum enough where they’ve gone, but not the likes o’Masther Fred.” Why has Norah such a sound of tears iu her voice? “An’ why, I wonder, didn't some o’ thim miserable spalpeens round in the back street git runned over an’ kilt, in stead o’him!” Norah continued. “It will about kill his sister.” A cold chill came over me; who were they talking about? Sure no one could believe that I was dead? A score of weird tales which 1 had read came rush ing through my mind -how people had been buried alive; how dear ones had permitted husband, brother, father, even mother or chi’d, to bo neglected as past hope; and how, after infinite suffering, the supposed corpse had struggled free from the coffin and winding-sheet and come home again; and I thought, too, of tho many who had never been able to free themselves, and I would have shud dered if I could have moved a muscle or even an eyelash; but I was as immovable as any corpse. In what seemed a century I again heard my sister’s voice. Considering that her only brother was supposed to be dead before her very eyes, I thought she scenvd very blithe. “Oh, Otto.” she said to her husband, “then you do not think Fred is really dead ?” “No more dead than I am, my dear; he has evidently received a severe blow upon his head which rendered him sense less and has thrown him into a sort of trance or cataleptic state. I have just been to see Dr. Burke, and he says it is very probable. Anyway, Kitty, I insist that the room be kept warm, quiet and comfortable; if alive, he is weak, and this place, when I came into it, was cold enough to have frozen any invulid; and then, on the other hand, if he is not alive, it will do no harm to have the temperature a little high, for any sign of decay will settle his condition beyond a doubt—and until I am quite positive he ;s dead I will give him the benefit of the doubt.” I had always liked and respected my grave brother in-law; now I loved hint. Howl blessed him for his words! That he would stick to them I had no doubt, lor he was a mule for obstinacy—no, no, never again wuuld I call him obstinate, 'out firm! I certainly wa* weak, for I either dozed ■ow or had a faint turn, for the next thing I knew the room was warm, a soft ■carlct shawl was spread over my feet, as I could see through my half-closed eyes, the curtains were drawn down, and the houve was delightfully still. My sister seemed to have been persuading her hus band into a grudging consent to some thing. for he was saying: “Well; have your own way, Kitty; I can’t pretend lo fathom the minds of you women, and you may be right; Ido uot like the girl myself, and I think our Fred is thrown away on her. Hut then, you see, there never was but one womon in the world to me.” “You are the bed m in in the universe, Otto! Ido hope you arc right, aud that dear Fred can hear w hat we say,” an swered my sister, kissing me tenderly. “If he can,” answered Otto, laying hi* firm, cool hand on my forehead, “he knows that he is to he cared for, and that no harm shall come to him if Otto Kramer tan defend him.” Alas! my tear ducts too were para lyzed, and the tears which I felt rise in them could go no further. Kitty now spresd a large white quilt over me, letting it hang straight and smooth, and then she aud Otto left the room. I had faith in them, and again I allowed myself to lapse into a state of unconsciousness, from which I was aroused by a voice which I knew right well—the voice of Feroline Palmer, my betrothed; the was saying, calmly; * CHARLOTTE, N. C. SATURDAY* DECEMBER ll* 1886. “I will be glad, Mrs. Kramer, if you ’ffill leave me quite alone with —with Fred for a few moments; give me just five minutes! I know you have nover liked me, but surely you will not refuse the last request I will ever make of you.” What could she mean? Could Kitty have been so heartless as not to tell her that Otto knew that I was still alive? Kitty aud she were not good friends, for my sister showed plainly that she did not think Lina (whom she always spoke of by her full name, Feroline) half good enough for me; but I was of a different opinion. In my eyes Lina was not cold, but only full of’pure madienly reticence; that she was at all mercenary was, to me, disproved by the fact that Harold Carter, the matrimonial prize of our town, had not been able to win her from me, though everybody could see that he was hend ovcr-heols in love with her. “Very well,” answered my sister, in the tone of a woman convinced against her will, “I will leave you now, and re turn in live minutes.” As Kitty shut the door behind her. I felt a glow of pleasurable anticipation come over me; I said to myself that surely the warm kiss which Lina would give her dead lover would break this strange thrall that held me as in a vise, and that I would seem to come back to the life I had never left. Fancy my surprise, then, to find that when she drew near my bed it was not to give me any kiss, but to gaze calmly upon me and say, in a quite audible whisper: “Free at last! Now, if I can only get those idiotic letters of mine, I can easily convince Harold and the world that I never, even at first, returned any of tho wild fancy Fred bothered me with. 1 wonder if, had I nover seen Harold, I could havo ever brought myself to care two straws for Fred Montieth? But time passes.” So saying, she drew from her pocket a little key which I at once recognized. In the earlier days of my courtship, when Linn was as yet not quite won, 1 had had two aaken boxes made and fitted with very peculiar looks; one of these I had given to Lina for her to keep her treas ures (my letters, a lock ot my hair, etc.,) in, and had used the other myself for a similar purpose, as well she knew. She only could unlock my box, for no other key but my own would have any effect on it. She quickly went to my table where the box was placed, and opening it, she lmstily snatched from it the thick packet of her own letters, a bow of blue ribbon, an old glove, and one or two pic tures, and thrust them in hsr pocket. Then she came to me, and taking my hand in hers, drew from it a ring she had. once given me, and in its place put the ane like it which I had given her; the only difference in the two was in the in scriptions within them. I was so astonished, so curious, that I forgot my disappointment in regard to the kiss, but listenod with eagerness to what she should say now that Kitty came back to tho rpom. “I suppose you have wondered, Mrs. Kramer, to see me so calm about your brother’s death; but the truth is that we came to the conclusion, only this very morning, that we were unsuited to one another—you knew that he was coming away from my house when he was run over, did you not? Yes, I thought so. Well, he had just returned my letters to me, and in his presence I had burned his to me. He had been pleased for some time to be jealous of the attentions Mr. t arter paid me, and I had at last owned , that if I were free I should accept Mr. Carter. Os course, under these circum stances you cannot expect me to bewail Fred’s death nor wear mourning for him; indeed, I don’t sec why I need go to his funeral. I believe I’ll go and visit my cousins in Albany until it is all over. I .peak thus plainly to you because I know there has ucver been any love lost be tween us two.” Now, there was not one word of truth in what Lina had said! And you may imagiue how her story surprised me. What with being considered dend when I was keenly alive to all that was going on around me, and with hearing such a remarkable tale, I had no chance to be broken-hearted over the defection of my lady-love. So 1 had been run over! Well, it was something to huve learned that much. I had a faint memory of starting to cross: a street, mid then of a siiout, a rush, a blow—and then nothing until I hoard my brother-in-law utter the words al ready quoted. But ray surprises were not at an end. The statement thus calmly given by l.ina was scarcely out other mouth when Imy door was again opened and Theresa | Ainsleigh entered. My sister welcomed j her cordially; she and Kitty were very ! intimate, and she was as much at home |ln our house as any one of us were. The : greetings exchanged between her and | l.ina were, however, of an icy character. I While Kitty and Lina were saying a few parting nothings, Theresa drew near my j bed, and I saw, to my surprise, that her ; eyes were full of tears, which would not be stayed, but welled up until they J iropped upon my unresponsive hand; | yet Lina had not showed a trace of feel jing! I had a queer sensation, as if I were assisting at some spectacle, and were an invisible auditor at that, j As the d**or closed behind Lina, I There a threw herself on her knees and ! sobbed a!oud: "Oh, Fred, why were you taken? My darling, my darling!” fieri! was a revelation! Theresa loved me! So it was for my sake she had re fused more thun one capital offer, and I hud simply set her down ss cold and ; old maidish! She was a dear little thing, anyway. Kitty has since said that she, too, was ! -o astonished, she did not know what to ' say lirat; suddenly she remembered that | perhaps I could hear all that was going on. and, if so, maybe 1 would at Inst up- ' predate Theresa as she deserved, ;o she 1 would not, just now. undeceive her. ' Then again, if ahe told Theresa that it I was not a cadaver to whom she was tell ing her love, the poor girl would be too much mortified to ever look us in the face; by-nnd-bv, if Otto was correct in his opinion about my condition, it should be easy to tell her that I hud been re stored, but not to let her know that I had never been given up by my own family. Theresa confirmed Kitty in this inten tion by rising and pressing a long, warm kiss on my stony lips, and then hastening from the room. In the intervals of consciousness which came to me I had leisure to meditate upon the two girls. I blamed myself for being hard-hearted because I could not feel the sorrow at Lina’s loss which it seemed to me that I ought to experi ence; and Theresa’s bright eyes and sweet mouth would rise before my men tal vision in a most unaccustomed way. I really felt quite grateful to Kitty for what I was sure was a little artifice on her part to convince me how little Lina had actually cared for me, although her scheme had succeeded beyond her wild est hopes. A few hours convinced all my physi cians that the Angci of Death bad not yet been set for me me, and, though i was ill for several weeks, I was at last restored to my usual health. In the days of my convalescence Theresa fre quently came to read or sing to me, and my eyes now being open to her virtues, I found myself getting seriously in love with her. One day I surprised her by saying: “By-tlie-way, Theresa, when is my old sweetheart, Feroline Palmer, going to be married ?” “Why, hasn't Kitty told you ? Her engagement to Harold Carter was broken off in less than a fortnight; it turned out he was already married, though sep arated from his wife, aud her father made such a talk about it that Harold disappeared.” Ana left Lina in the lurch, eh ? Well, she got her pay for jilting me much sooner than I fancied she would. Why do you look so surprired * Did you be lieve the story she told Kitty ? There was not a wold of truth it. ” “But yon hail your own ring on, and the box whore you kept her letters was unlocked and empty. Kitty said: she looked into things to Bee if she was mis judging Feroline in disbelieving what she had said.” “Oh, Lina was cute; she took her let ters and changed the rings when she was left alone with her so-called dead lover,” I replied, incautiously. “Oh, Fred, you must not be so unjust, so bitter! Probably that blow on your head made you forget what had hap pened that morning; she is free now,” and Theresa gave a faint sigh, and I saw the corners ot her mouth droop. “Yes, she’s free, and likely to remain so; she can’t pipy her game for over. She is a cold-hearted, mercenary flirt!” Theresa thought my words were in duced by wounded pride, so she tried to console me. “Feroline has been to inquire for you ever so many times,and I told Kitty that I thought she ought to bring her up to see you.” “No, no!” thought I; “Kitty knows better; she knows by my silence about her that I have lost my interest in her.” These were my thoughts, but as I said not a word, Theresa continued: “She sent you those lovely roses which you have been admiring.” “Did she?” I exclaimed, eagerly. “Please hand them to me.” Theresa did so, fully expecting to see me press them to my lips, and not at all anticipating that I would take and fling them into the bright fire which glowed in the grate before me. “Why, Fred!” she cried, in amaze ment. “There goes her gift, and there goes my fancy for her, if there was any of it left, that is. That blow on my thick skull, Tressie, convinced my dull intel lect that I had been mistaking pinch beck for gold. What a fool I was to have looked at Lina when you were still nnmnrr ed, and therefore free to be loved!” “Fred!” gasped Theresa; but I checked her How of words by the usual means that lovers employ. Tt'heii Kitty came into the room a little later to see about my luncheon, the nvch hypoerite pretended to be immensely sur prised to see the close embrace in which she found the two of us; but a glance which we exchanged over Tressie s un ronscious head told me that she was sat isfied now that I had heard all that was going on in the hours w hen I was left for dead. But she kept my secret, and it was not until Theresa and I had been married two years that the secret was ever re vealed. Kitty, at that time, also told Lina what her share in the matter had been, and the two women have not spoken since.— Frank I^ctli-'t. The Antarctic Continent. That mysterious, unknown land, the Antarctic Continent, has hitherto at tracted few explorers. While expedi tions have penetrated tho arctic regions every year, in tho hope of finding a northwest passage, or of gaining vidua bie material for science, the other end of the giobe hns remained almost unvisited. Almost nothing has been done there since forty-five years ago, when Sir John Boss discovered the huge volcano, Alt. Krebus, (laming amid the everlasting snow ami ice. Expeditions toward the north pole are not exactly pleasure excursions; but the jouth pole presents still more terrible difficulties. To reach it, the traveler must leave his ship, and truver-e maybe a thousand miles of land covered w ith almost impassable masses of ice. This arduous task will be attempted next year by an expedition dispatched by the government of Victoria, Australia, who are to sail anuthward from Mel bourne, and push on to reach the pole, if they can manage it. —Golden Aryosy. • SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL. j In a lecture at the Royal Institute, 'London, Professor Oliver Lodge has en deavored to show that electricity might be employed to clear the uppet atmas phere of great cities of the overhanging clouds of dust and smoke. An Australian has invented an electri cal machine gun which ho claims is ca pable of tiring 120 rounds “every few sec ends” from any position and in any di rection. Experienced officers have rec ommended tiro apparatus. Dr. de la Rue has concluded that the height of the most brilliant display of the aurora borealis is thirty-eight miles; that a faint glow may possibly be pro duced as high as eighty-t-.vo miles, but that at a height of one hundred and twenty-four miles no aurora discharge is possible. it was reported recently, in the Royai Society of Tasmania, that a Mr. Vim pany had captured a black snake four feet three inches long, in which one hundred and nine young ones were found. Tho greatest number said to have been before taken from a single snake was seventy. It is stated by the London Enyineenny that a dirigible balloon of colossal di mensions lias been for some time in course of construction in Berlin. It is 500 feet in length, fifty feet in diameter, and woighs 48,000 pounds. The pro pelling power consists of two steam-en gines of fifty horse-power each. Mr. W. H. Precoii described in the British Association bow he had extracted a piece of needle from his daughter’s hand by the aid of a suspended magne tized neeale. Tbe needle was strongly deflected, and invariably, when the hand was moved about, pointed to one posi tion, which was marked with a spot of ink. Tho needle was afterward extracted by cutting at this spot. It has been supposed that a number of the substances existing in the cochineal insect are produced during the prepara tion for commerce. Licbermann shows, however, that the peculiar waxy sub stance, which lie calls coccerine, is con tained in the animal when alive. Empty coccoons were found to contain somo three-fourths of their weight of cncccr ine, and the leaves of the cactus, on which tho animals feed, were covered with what appeared to be white mold, but which on investigation proved to be coccerine which had been exuded by the insects. The various kinds of ingenious con trivances which have been brought for ward from time to time for tho prompt detection of fire damp in mines, are well known, but most of them have been of a somewhat complicated nature, aud on this account failing of their purpose. The latest of these brought to notice, how ever, is described as so simple in princi ple and construction as to excite wonder at its not having b cn thought of before. A child’s India-rubber hall with a hole in it is squeezed flat in the hand and held in the place suspected of fire damp while released, and allowed to 6ttck in the sam ple of the air; the ball is now directed toward a safety lamp and again squeezed, when the telltale blue flame will show if it contains any inflammable vapor. Accidents to Sleep Walkers. It seems strange, oil the first blush of the matter, that so very few accidents befall sleep walkers. The proportion of instances in which auy injury is sustained by the subjects of this remarkable state of semi sleep is very small. The expla nation of the immunity is doubtless to be round in the fact that it is a state of setnj aleep in which the sleepwalker makes his excursion. He is sleeping only so far as part of his cerebrum is concerned. The rest of his brain is awake, and, therefore, it is really not a strange feat to walk carefully and escape injury, doing all the necessary acts of avoidance while carrying out some dream purpose, just as a walking purpo e is fulfilled. The hypothesis obviously requires a very full ; explanation of such an accident as that ; by which a sleepwalker recently came by her de ttli, namely, ial lingjput of an open window. It is not likely to have been part ol the dream to get out of a win dow. There must have been some error in the carrying out of the process; such, for example, as turning to the right in stead of to the left on leaving a room, and thus walking through alow wiudow instead of through a doorway. As a rule, the senses are sufficiently on the alert to enable the sleepwalker to take all precau tions for safety aud when ho becomes face to face with a difficulty involving more than automatic or sub conscious self-control, ho wakes. AVe should like to know more of the case, which has just ended fatally,from some competent med ical observer who has studied the devel opment of this interesting disorder in this particuliar instance. Surely a prac titioner was consulted. No case of sleep walkiug should ever be left without med ical scrutiny and counsel. In sleepwalk ing there is the making of madness, and in its inception this disorderly sleepless ness ought to he stayed.— Lancet. Clay's Neat Compliment. During Mr. Clay’s service in Congress . he paid a visit to an enthusiastic friend, a pnyaician. in Virginia, who was anxious for a neighbor, a furmcr, to become ac quainted with the great statesman. II was arranged for them to meet. The physician introduced them thus: “Mr. Clay, permit me to introduce you to Mr. | Clay, the greatest lawyer in the United States.” Mr. Clay, advancing, took the hand of tbe farmer and said: "Permit me to say, sir, we are introduced by the greatest doctor in all the world.” ' The I three gentlemen were then ready for de lightful social intercourse.— lndevcndent. Terms. $1,50 per Amim Single Copy 5 cents. MY JEWELS. From the teeming strand of mem’ry’s sea, With its sparkling waves of golden mist, Aud Ity priceless wealth of smiles and tears. And visions of love ail pleasure kissed, A precious waiflet drifta to me. ’Tis only a faded rose, once kissed By a sweet June morning’s crystal tears; But its fragrant heart enfolds for me Tho passionate dream of life’s best years, Evanished in the goldon mist. And those perfect hours and wondrous year* Are jewels lost in a restless sea— By sparkling wavelets carelessly kissed. Then tenderly wafted back to me, All dripping with crystalline tears. —Laura C\ Arnold, in Life. HUMOR OF THE DAY. A favorite winter resort—before tbe fire. A hard thing to sharpen—the water’* dge. A sole stirring subject—a bail in your shoe. Japan boasts of a singing fish. It has musical scales, we suppose.— Siftings. Bluebeard’s trade evidently waa that of a belle-hanger.— Uartford Snnday Journal. Money Is yet quite hard to collect, and e7cn coffee frequently refuses to settle.— Jjowdl Citizen. The grocer never sings “My way is dark and lonely.” His weigh is usually light.— St. Paul Herald. The royal family always wears it trous ers turned up at the bottom, because it ia reigning in England.— Life. It is very mortifying for a young man to ask for a girl’s hand and receive her father’s foot.— Lowell Citizen. Kate Field asks: “How many women marry a good man?” One at a time, Kate, except in Utah.— New Haven News. The difference between a porous piaster and a lottery ticket is that the plaster dnws something.— Philadelphia Call. Another peaceful Indian has been dis covered in Montana. He has been pet rified for over 1,000 years.— New York Graphic. An advertiser wants “astrong boy for bottling.” It occurs to us that it would be easier to bottle a wchk boy.—Phila delphia Call. A clock should please both capital and labor. It works twenty-four hours a day and goes on a strike every hour.— Lowell Citizen. Why is a reddish horse like a horse radish? Because we can’t test the speed of one,nor the virtue of the other, with out putting a bit in the mouth. A fuss a husband will create If dinner’s cold ’cause he’s too late; But he’ll get just as mad and surly If he should come an hour too early. —Ti d-Bits. A fashion note says that cloaks to be worn this winter will be short. That's what’s the matter with many of tho wearers as well.— B-nton Post. Tho single man doth now appear With overcoat upon his back. The married man looks sad and drear, While his wife gets into her sealskin sacque. — Merchant-Traveler. Paper shoes are now manufactured in Paris, and are quite fashionable. Just imagine a dainty slipper made up of spring poetry and old love letters.— Chicago Tribune. Beets and carrots have grown to such | a si e in Brule county this year that farmers are com pc led to use stump pullers to pull them from the ground.— Chamberlain ( D. T.) Democra*. The dutv of ten per cent, recently es tablished by the United states (govern ment on Spanish imports, will not affect the price of pure Havana cigars, so many of them being made in this country, any i how.— Siftings. | Costing $500,000 to Humor a Child, i Here is a good story that Lady Bras icy got in Constantinople: “We went I down as far as the French bridge, over which the contractor lost an immense lot ! of money in the following manner: The bridge was to have been finished by a ! particular day, but the contractor found : that this would be impossible with Turk ! ish workmen unless he worked day and aight. This he obtained leave to do, and the nccessnry lights ond torches were I supplied at the Sultan’s expense. All i went well for a time till the unfortunate ' contractor was told that he must open the bridge to let u ship from the dock ; yard pa y 8 through some time before the i bridge was finished. He said it wasim : possible, a* he would have to pull every • thing down, and it would take two or ! three months to replace the pile driving machines. Uc went to the Minister of Marine and Finance. They said: ‘lf the Sultan says it must be done it must, or we thall lose our places, if not our heads.’ Ho the Rhip came out at a cost of a little over £IOO,OOO, and a delay of three months in the completion of the ■ bridge, all because the Sultan found bi* small son crying in the harem one day, l the child’s grief being that, though he I had been promised to be made an Ad miral, ho could not see his flag hoisted oa his particular ship from the nursery windows. Ho a large iron clad waa brought out from the dock yard and moored in front of Dolmabagtcheh to gratify his infant mind, tons causing , enormous inconvenience to the whole town for months, lo say nothing of the wnbte of money, of which the Sultan paid very little, and for the loeaof which, 1 imagine, he cared still less.” Use of letters A schoolmaster wrote to a hdy: How conic* it th s delightful weather, That U aud 1 can’t dine together# She answered: My worthy friend it cannot be, U canuot ooupJ till after T. —Carl Pretzdf.

Page Text

This is the computer-generated OCR text representation of this newspaper page. It may be empty, if no text could be automatically recognized. This data is also available in Plain Text and XML formats.

Return to page view