THE CHARLOTTE MESS ENG
VOL. IV. NO. 20.
THE
Charlotte Messenger
IB PUBLISHED
Every Saturday,
AT
CHARLOTTE, N. C.
In the Interest! of the Colored People
or the Country.
. i
Able and well-known writer* will oontrib
nte to Its column* from different part* of the
country, end It will contain tbsjlateet Gen
ernl News of the day.
The Messenceh is a first-class newspaper
and will not allow personal abuse in its col
umns. His not sectarian or partisan, but
independent—dealing fairly by all. It re
serve* the right to criticise the shortcomings
cf all public officials—commending the
worthy, and recommending for election such
men as in its opinion srs best suited In serve
the interests of the people.
It is Intended to supply the long felt need
of a newspaper to advocate the right* and
defend the inter, sts of the Negro-American,
especially in the Piedmont section of the
Carolina*.
•XTBSCBIPTIONfi:
(Alrrtryein Advance )
1 year »1 50
* months - -1 00
f) months - - 75
months - - 50
ifmonthv - - -35
Bingls Copy - - - 5
Address,
W.C. BMITH Charlotte) N C,
It is expected that before long a prac
tical test of one of tho numerous har
nesses for the control of Niagara's power,
brought into exietenca under the stimu
lus of a SIOO,OOO prize, will receive a
practical teat, which will demonstrate
its uso or prove it a failure, and give
something further on which to base ar
guments that Niagara contains no great
shakes of available power. An endless
chain, with feathering buckets, was the
invention of a Buffalo man. The rights
for Eric and Niagara counties ho Bold
for $05,000. A stock company with
$1,000,000 copitil is to be formed if the
coming test proves auteessful.
■Western towns which have a boom
can appreciate tho power of the press.
Tho people of Tucson, Arizona, buy
8,000 copies of th.ir loeal paper every
month for the purpose of sending it
abroad, ond in addition pay it S2OO a
month for apecial "write-ups." The
town cf Lamar, Col., reecntly paid the
local paper $1,500 for a "write-up,” ond
the citizens of Fort Scott, Kansas, have
just spent $7,000 in advertising tho
town. Hutchinson, Kansas, claims to
give its local paper a bonus of SIO,OOO
a year for rcmaintDg alive and kicking,
while Newton, Kansas, pays its paper
$15,000 a year. There is nothing at all
improper in this, aa the money is paid
for legitimate advertising. On the con
trary, it is very creditable to the citi
zens of these towas that they thus en
courage their local papers end at tho
same time bebrflt themselves.
-mornsn. a- '. -jurcer;
Recent stat stir* show that the number
of steamers existing in tke world in 1880
was estimated at 9,000, of an aggregate
burden of 10,531,843 tons. In the pre
viows year the number was rtated at
9,042, Os an aggregate burden of
10,291,241 tona. The world’s si cam
•hipping in 188(1 was thus distributed:
Iron steamers, 8,199, of an aggregate
burden of 8,911,400 Inna; ateel steamers,
770, of an aggregate burden of 32,820
tons; and wooden steamers, 822, of an
aggregate burden of 880,055 tone. Os
the strainers afloat in 1885, 6,792 were
owner! by the United Kingdom and its
colonies, lhe : r aggregate burden being
•,503,871 tons. Tho other countries of
the world owned steamers in the follow
ing order: Germany, 579; France, 509;
Spain, 401; the United States, 400;
Norsriy, 887; Russia, 212; Denmark,
200; Italy, 173; Holland, 152; Brazil,
141; .lapan, 105; Greece and Turkey,
82 rach: Belgium, 08; Chili end the
Argentine Republic, 43 each; China and
Portugal, 27 each; Hawaii, 21; Mezico,
13. and miscellaneous 50. From tba
above figures it appears that, notwith
standing the great depression prevailing
in the steam shipping trade, the number
of steamers afloat last year increased to
the extent of 337 at compare i with 1885.
A Trinity.
Rweet Faith is like the daisy bright,
With heart of gold and petal white,
That blooms from mom until the night,
And wakes from day to day,
Koch year, from spring till winter's gloom.
Then only sleeps again to bloom
And cheer life’s rugged way.
Fair Hope is like the cedar tree;
No matter what the season be,
Its verdure we may ever see,
It tells us constantly—
Though faded are the wayside flowers.
Though lonely are tho wintry hours—
Os immortality.
But Love, the greatest of them all,
Blooms winter, summer, spring and fall,
Nor night nor death its strength appal
Through all eternity.
Sweet Faitn, Fair Hope, within it dwell;
All flowers of its beauties tell —
A perfect trinity
—[Emile Pickbardt in Boston Herald
CELESTE’S WEDDING.
One day, business requiring my pres
ence at X., a small town with a popu
lation of 5,000 or 6,000 inhabitants,
distant twenty hours from Paris, I
arrived there about ten in the forenoon,
and was greatly surprised to find tho
streets which arc generally so silent and
peaceful, unusually animated. Groups
of men were standing in front of the
shops, women were gossiping at the
windows, young men and young girls
were wending their way toward the
public square, while urchins were run
ning about in every direction.
The Hotel of Commerce, my cus
tomary stopping-place, seemed upside
down. Travelers, who had been aban
doned to their fate by the waiters, were
tugging furiously at their bell cords,
one calling for his boots, another for
his breakfast, this one wanted his moil,
that one his paper, while the corridors
wet# the scene of an indescribable con
fusion. The master of the house, a
stout, jovial man, known to all as Father
Philip, traveled up stoir3 and down,
perspiring, panting, and tumbling at a
loss as to which call he should answer
first. I stopped him as he wag going
by.
“Hello! Father Philip,” said I with a
laugh, “what's the matter! Are your
servants on a strike?”
“Ah!” replied he, os he mopped his
face furiously with his handkerchief,
“don’t speak of it sir. Although I had
forbidden it, they have all gono to the
wedding. Ah! here they arc now, com
ing back! It is about time!”
With contrite looks and hanging
heads, the three waiters were returning
as he said, sneaking along the wall.
But father Philip, red as a boiled lob
ster, had taught sight of them, and
without waiting for explanations, he
bawled at the top of his voice:
“Say, are you all trying to make a
fool of me? Augusta, chocolate to 7,
coffee with milk to 11, letters to 0!
Emile’s 10’s boots, 6’s hat, Petit, Journal
to 2- No. I*B bill! Jules, 14’s break
fast, the Time Table for 21.”
Without questions, August, Emile and
Jules disappeared up the staircase as if
by magic. We heard them scurrying
along the halls on the upper floor; doors
were slammed and five minutes later tho
house had recovered its usual serenity.
Then only did Father Philip become
more calm and turning to me he said:
“Why, you have not been relieved of
your valise yet. I beg your pardon.
Ah! my hear sir, oue is anything but
happy when he lias to deal with such
scamps! But then I cannot be angry
with them to-day. The whole town is
topsey-turvey ou account of the wed
ding.”
“Whose wedding?”
“All! that’s so. You have just ar
rived and could not know. It Is the
marriage of Mile. Bondurand!”
In uttering this last sentence Father
Philip was very probnbly under the im
pression that I was going to exclaim:
“That accounts for it!” ns he seemed
most unpleasantly surprised wbcii I
replied, without drenmiug that I might
givo offense: “I cau’t see why the mar
riage of that particular lady should have
revolutionized the town in this way.”
He disdainfully stuck out his nether
lip, a sure sign that lie was pouting, or
as his waiter would say, “showing his
lip.” Still, he was on the point of ex
plaining why such a cause had produced
so good an effect, when the rumbling of
carriages resounded in the street and the
air was filled with cries of “Here they
come! here they come!”
It was the wedding—the famous wed
ding of Mile. Bondurand---which, after
the ceremony at the town hall nod at
church was passing by the hotel on its
way to tne bride's residence. Jt was
followed by a crowd of idlers who ran
along, shouting, waving their hats, and
shoving each other, even under tho
horses’ feet, as they scrambled in tho
dust after the sugar-plums the grooms
men were throwing by handfuls through
tho carriage windows.
We had posted ourselves on tho sloop
to get a better view of tho cortcgo us
it went by. Father Philip shared in
tho general enthusiasm, and seemed
hugely delighted ns he pointed out to
me tho family and the invited guests.
“There is Monsieur Bondurand, the
bride’s father, in the second carnage.
Hello! his wife it not with him!
Parblcu, she has got into her daughter’s
vehicle. That bald-headed gcntlernun
is our pre/d.
“And who is that peasant woman in
full dress? flhc seems quite impressed
by the grand company in which she
finds herself.”
“That is the groom's mother, old
Mme. Florcnt. Doesn't the worthy
woman seem happy? Anyhow, there
she is, for the first time in her life, rid
ing in a carriage.
“The groom is not a rich man then?”
“Who! Jacque* Florcnt? Why, he
hasn't a cent to his name,”
“And bis wife?”
CHARLOTTE, N. C., SATURDAY, DEC. 3, 1887
“Mil*. Celesta Bondurand has I
dowry of 600,000 francs, without men
tioning future expectations.”
"Monsieur Jacques Florcnt has fallen
into a well-lined uest.”
Master Philip smiled approvingly.
As his eyes fell upon the occupants of
two of the carriages in the cortege, ha
suddenly exclaimed:
“There they are I there they are!”
They were invited, too, it seems. "That
is a capital joke,” he added, laughing
until the tears rolled down his fat
cheeks. "’Tis really a good joke I Do
you see them!”
“Do I sec whom? I don’t see any
thing to laugh at.”
"There, in the sixth carriage, that
tall, light-haired man at tho side of that
young girl in a pink dress with a white
hot, is Monsieur do Vauvilain, the chief
bailiff. And in the other vehicle, that
small, fat man, with the lady in green,
is M. Chapuis, the wealthy land owner.
There is no doubt of it, they are Both
invited to the wedding.”
‘•Why, of course, Father Philip, or
you would not sec them in carnages
following the bride. But tell me, why
do you find it so funav that those gen
tlemen should be invited to attend
Mile. Bondurand’s wedding?”
“’Tis true! I always forget that you
have just arrived and have, as yet, heard
nothing of it. If you only knew. Ah,
no, let mo laugh.”
“There is an amusing story connected
with the marriage then ?”
' ‘Amusing if you wish—that is, to
those who are acquainted with the
parties.”
"All the same, tell it to me, father
Philip, I long to hear it.”
Being awell-informed. loquacious inn
keeper, Father Philip did not require
much persuasion. The wedding train
and the crowd had disappeared. We
were alone on tho veranda, where trav
elers generally sipped their coffee. I
ordered two cupa and after tasting his
the old fellow commenced as follows:
“I must begin by telling you that
Jacques Florcnt, whom you have just
noticed, and who has married so well,
was born in this neighborhood. We
used to see him, when quite small, going
to the parochiol school, his satchel on
his back, and his hands in his pockets.
He was a civil, well bred youngster.
When he met ono ho would politely doff
his cap, and when school was dismissed,
he would never loaf about the streets in
stead of going home. His mother, who
managed u small farm near by, would
take him to school in the morning when
she came to town to sell the milk of her
cows, and would call !for him in the
evening, on her way home. Bbe waß a
widow, and worked hard to bring hei
son up properly.
On his side, little Jacques worked
hard also. One year he won so many
prizes that he could not carry them all.
Then his mother determined to send
him to college. She found no sacrifice
too great in order to obtain the means of
paying for his board and lodging. She
would arise an honr earlier in the morn
ing and go to bed later at night, while
all day long the would toil like a slave.
Poor Mother Florent. How she did
move about in those days. Luckily it
was not long before the youngster was
able to provide for himself. He first
won n scholarship here, another at col
lege, still another in Paris at the Ecole
Centrale, where he ttood at the head * f
his classes.
“He must boa pheenix, then!”
“I don't know about his being a
fihoenix, but one thing certain is, that,
ike his mother, ho is a hard worker;
and by working hard, one always gets
on.”
“I agree with you there.”
“Well, to cut the story short, he suc
ceeded. In Paris, during three years he
faithfully attended to his studies, while
he gave lessons hero and there, and by
this mean* made money enough to meet
his smaller expenses. At last, he passed
his final examination successfully, and,
with his diploma in his pocket, he re
turned home. Ilis good reputation had
proceeded him, and on his arrival M.
Bondurand offered him a situation in his
woolen mills.”
"Ahlyes. Now I understand about
the marriage. But how about those two
that you were laughing about awhile
ago? Where do M. de Vauvilain, baliff,
and M. Chapuis, the landed proprietor,
come in?”
“Hold on, you go too fast. In plac
ing Jacques Florent at the bead of his
factory, 31. Bondurand had not the least
idea of letting him wed his daughter—
neither did Mme. Bondurand, I assure
you.”
“Then Mile. Celeste's marriage took
place against tbeir wishes?’’
“Never in the world.”
“I don't understand it at ail then.”
“That is not surprising. You don’t
give me time to explain things. You
may well suppose that, with her
fortune, Milo. Celeste, who is a charm
ing young person, as you may have
noticed yourself, and who was brought
up (as a princess, had no end of ad
mirers. Every winter Mme. Bondnrand's
parlors arc thronged with the best
society of the town, and at her recep
tions the richest and most db
tinguished people are to be met.
Being an engineer, Paul was invited.
He never failed to attend, but he
always remembered his place, while
Messrs. Chapuis and de Vauvilain para
ded in the first ranks, letting it be
known that they were in love with Mila
Celeste. I believe, though, that they
were only in lovo with her dowry. Eacn
made up his mind to win tbe prize at
■ny cost, and tbe conduct of both was in
strict accordance with this determi
nation. The strangest part of the whole
proceedings was that neither attempted
to get into the good graces of the young
lady, who always treated them with
marked coldness.
• 'Singular lovers, those I”
“They imagined that Mile. Celeste
being a good girl of a very social dis
position, she would always comply with
her parents’ wishes. Bo they proceed
ed to lay siege to the old folks. M.
Chapuis, by displacing an interest in
M. Bondurand’s affairs, had do trouble
In winning him over, while M. de Vau
vilain, by means of his nobility, and by
putting on the airs of a great lord, suc
ceeded in getting the mother to espouse
bis cause to such an extent that, in a
short time, she promised him her
daughter’s hand, while, on the other
side, her husband was making the same
promise to his rival. ”
“And of course Mile. Celeste pro
tested?”
“Not at all. She let things take
their own course. It happened that she
occasionally danced with Jacques Flor
ent end had convened with him in the
parlor. The young engineer's quiet,
serious character and hia easy, distin
guished manners soon impressed her.
One day he spoke of his mother, of her
devotion to him, of the gratitude and
affection that he bore her. This proved
to the voting lady that his heart was in
the right place. Jacques, on his side
felt himself more than interested in the
beautiful and sweet girl that had ao
kindly paid attention to him, but as he
knew her to be very rich, his demeanor
was always so respectful that no word
of love ever passed between them.”
“And still—.’’
“Os course, everything had to come
out all right in the end. Here is the
natural winding up of the comedy. The
first time that M. and Mme. Bondurand
communicated to each other their de
signs in regard to their daughter there
was a terrible row. Just think. Mon
sieur wanted Chapuis for his son-in-law.
Madame could not bear him; he was a
baboon, Chinaman, a miser; he was
ugly, deformed, ill-bred, badly dressed,
unkempt nnd ridiculous. Madame
wanted de Vaitvilian, whom Monsieur
held in holy horror. A snob, a talker,
a boaster, n booby, an ass; noble, it was
true, but a wretched beggar who had to
depend entirely on his situation.”
“They could not agree, then?”
“Os course not. ‘Vauvilain, never!’
exclaimed M. Bondurand. ‘Chapuis,’
replied his wife, ‘l’ll die first!’
“It was at this point that Mile. Ce
icsto took a hand in the game. Bhetold
her father that she loved M. Jacques
Florent, that M. Florent loved her, that
she would be his wifo or else she would
marry de Vauvilain. She said the same
to her mother, only the conditions were:
Jacques or Chapuis, Neither hesitated.
In order to get rid of the one each hated
so much, beta consented. Tbe game
was won.
“Os course the engineer was expect
ing affairs to take this turn?”
“Not at all; but Mile. Celeste had
been astute enough to foresee that
there was no opposition to be dreaded
.from that quarter. She had her father
to call on him, and I need not say that
the worthy young fellow’s surprise
was as great as his joy. You can un
derstand that he accepted the offer
eagerly, his only condition being that,
at the wedding, the place of honor
Would be given to his mother. You
have seen, yourself, that his wish was
granted.
“Now, if you want to know why the
whole town attended the wedding, I
must say it i 3 because everybody likes
Jacques. And,” added Father Philip,
with a cunning smile, if I must tell all,
you should remenber that we are in the
country, aud we have had nothing else
to talk of during the past three
months." —[From the French.
A Climatic Peculiarity.
A correspondent of an Eastern paper
points on* the fact that at Lucerne, in
the southern part of this state, a high
range of thermometer—he puts it at
116—can be endured even by the
workers in the He'd without a great deal
of inconvenience. lie attributes the
fact to the movement of the coast winds
and the cool nights which tend so much
to recuperation. This condition of the
atmosphere is not peculiar to
Lucerne and Southern California. It
is common also to Ceutral and a
part of Upper California. It is a well
established fact that in this state ninety
decrees of heat does not cause a great
deal ot personal discomfort. It can be
endured much more easily than seventy
six degrees at the East. The higher
range with us is not attended with
wilted collars, nor crushed wristbands,
except in the case of violent exertion.
The reason is not exclusively the
prevalence of coast winds, hut the
dryness of the atmosphere. The heat
absorbed by the system at once radiates
in all directions. At the East,
in consequence of the greater moisture
of the atmosphere, the heat is retained.
Californians have been known to fleo
precipitately from New York with a
thermometrical range of from seventy
six to eighty degrees, though ten
degrees more would not render them
uncomfortable in tho southern country,
or the Sacra nento or Ban Joaquin val
1-ys. The radiation outward of the
heat is also supposed to account for the
aliscnce of sunstroke, and of rabies
among dogs. —San Franrieeo ErupiHrer.
Sad Fate ot a Joke.
An American joke sometimes loses it
self through translation into another
language. A native humorist wrote:
' ‘Notwithstanding that a lady should
always be quiet and self-contained she
cannot even enter a place of worship
without a tremendous bustle.” A
French writer reproduces it in this form:
"According to an American author, the
'adiea of that country are so greedy cf
notoriety that they cannot enter the
holysaactuary without disturbing the
kneeling worshippers with their vulgar
and unseemly t,\o.''—-Uinfh<onpton He
p rtthean.
Terms, $1.50 per Annm Single Copy 5 cents.
BESIEGED BY A PYTHON
A WEIRD TALE OF A CLERK’S TER
RIBLE EXPERIENCE.
A Huge Snake nt l.arge In u
Counting; Room.— Taking; Ref
uge in a Snfe.-A Larky F.»
rape.
Twenty years ago I was the managing
clerk in an English merchant's office.
My work was heavy. Many nights 1
sat at my books until into the small
hours of the morning. Once or twice 1
actually dozed off into a sleep, to be
awakened by the woman who cleaned
the various rooms coming to her work.
The house I was connected with had
a branch establishment in India doing a
large business, and many curious con
signments of goods, quite outside of our
usual articles of commerce, passed
through our hands. Priceless cloths
and native fabrics, brass and gold orna
ments set with precious stones, collec
tions of stones, botanical specimens,
birds, animals—everything, in fact, until
at times the contents of the cases, if
opened and spread out, would have
made a very average museum.
One afternoon a large box was de
livered from one of the ships labelled
“To bo kept in a moderately warm
El ace.” I was away from tho warc
ouse at the time of its arrival, ond the
men placed it in the outer office. On
my return I casually noticed the case in
passing, and saw that one end was
slightly crushed, as if by some heavier
case falling on it. This was a mere ac
cidental observance.
My private office was just four walls,
hung with maps and charts. A writing
bureau in the centre of the floor behind
tho door; behind the bureau a large
iron fireproof safe some six feet high
nnd four feet square, slanding twelve or
fourteen inches from the wall, and a
ease of books and three or four chairs
completed the inventory. I was going
to work late, and in a short time I was
alone in the large building.
I worked steadily until midnight. I
arose and paced about the room for a
few minutes.
A sound, as of a chair being moved
in the adjoining room, startled me.
X stepped to the door, and opened it.
Tho light from a street lamp lit the
room fairly well, and after a glance I
concluded it must have been fancy, and
returned to my desk, leaving the door
open.
A few minutes afterward, a faint,
harsh sound came from the same direc
tion, a curious, rubbing sound, undenia
bly within the next room, nnd quite as
undeniably moving toward the door
leading to where I was sitting.
I rose to my feet, and as I did so tho
head and neck of a hugh snake pro
truded through the doorway into the
well-lit room.
I stood transfixed with horror.
When the reptile saw me it stopped
for a second, its eyes grew more and
more aflame until they resembled two
lurid balls of fire, its tongue darted in
snd out of its mouth, and the head
raised higher and higher until nearly
level with my own. I could hear its
body coiling and recoiling in fury in the
darkness beyond, and there I stood
powerless, unarmed, and apparently
unable even to move.
I looked once around in a despairing
search for some outlet of escape, and,
is I took my eyes from those of tho
horrid reptile, it lowered its head and
darted toward me. Another second and
it would have caught me, when, seeing
the open safe, I rushed in and shut the
door. A small petty cash book fell to
the floor, half in, half out of the safe,
holding the door open about half an
inch.
But for that hook I would have speedi
ly been suffocated. Not thinking of
that I stooped and tried to draw the
book inside; but the snake, moving
simultaneously with myself, had dashed
itself against the safe, nnd in its brute fury
thinking the safe part and parcel of myself
had thrown its coils around it, com
pressing the door so tightly that I for
tunately could not remove the book,
which was my sole means of ventilation.
Half crazed with fright I pulled and
lugged at it without avail. The perspi
ration rolled down my fqpe, my heart
beat almost to bursting, and even with
the book holding the door ajar I seemed
to be at the point of suffocation. Gasp
ing for breath and utterly nerveless I
fell against the door andslid to the floor
in a dead faint.
How long I remained so I cannot tell;
perhaps a few minutes, perhaps an hour.
At last my senses returned,and although
dreadfully cramped by the position into
which I had subsided in the narrow
space, I felt I had not the power to rise,
and lay there gazing through the narrow
opening at the two folds which encir
cled my refuge, feeling a horrible sensa
tion that I shall never forget. 1 even
passed my finger out and touched oue,
feeling n quivering movement that told
me the reptile had drawn its coils to
their utmost tension in the hope of
crushing the shell that held the precious
kernel of myself.
By an effort I collected my ideas, nnd.
remembering the box and the crushed
end, could readily account for the pres
ence of the intruder. I knew that it
was customary to feed them to satiety
before shipping, send them off, and as a
rule they arrived here still in the state
of stupor. This one might have had a
long passage, nml eoming out of the
sleep wanted water, grew furious, hurst
the weak end of the ease, and finding
me attacked mo by instinct.
I grew calmer and investigated my
position thoroughly. I rose to my feet,
nnd as I did so my foot rested on some
thing uneven. I picked it tip and found
it to be one of those long ink erasers,
having a blade about four inches long.
ER
sharp as a razor, tempered like a Damas
cus blade, the handle being about fire
inches long and flat in shape. It must
have fallen out of the cash book, these
knives frequently being shut in the
books by the careless clerks. Taking
the knife in my right hand I thrust it
into the thinest fold with all my
strength. There was a horrible, sicken
ing tearing sound, and quickly with
drawing the blade, I thrust it again
and again into the folds, until at the
third or fourth stab I saw the folds re
lax and go sliding down the sides of the
safe to the floor, lying there squirming
and writhing in convulsions.
I dared not move for nearly an hour,
until all seemed quiet; then opening the
door, I dashed across the room into the
outer office, banged to the door, loeked
it, and, hatlcss, rushed to the nearest
police station. At fir.t my story was
discredited, and I was almost loeked up
as being drunk, hut eventually four
officers armed with revolvers came with
me.
TV# found the reptile nearly dead, but
still tremulous when touched, the cuts
with the keen knife, owing to the ex
treme tension of the coils, having nearly
severed the body in half. It measured
just 33 feet 5 inches from head to tail.—
Few York Bun.
In a Jeweler’s Window.
A retail jeweler says: “Do I ever
keep a lookout for suspicious character#
in front of my show-window with pieces
of lead-pipe or bricks? No, I can’t say
that I do. The watching wouldn’t
amount to much unless it was pretty
steady, and that would necessitate a
trusted man behind the counter for that
purpose alone. But a funny thing that
I do notice is the regularity with which
some people will eome up to gaze upon
a certain article, who nevertheless have
neither the means nor the desire to pur
chase it.
“Now, a schoolboy will eome again
and again to feast his eyes upon a pe
culiar mechanical clock, and stick his
tODgue a little further into his cheek
each time as he marvels upon how it is
made to work. Just so, I suppose are
the poorer classes of people fascinated
by a display of glistening gems, which
represent a sum by them at once con
verted in thought into delicacies in
numerable, and three meals a day for
several months. Sometimes a person
becomes really attached to some article
displayed, and really feels bad when it
goes.
‘‘l remember one instance of a seedy,
looking individual who came regularly
every morning and took a long look at A
handsome diamond and ruby bracelet
worth nearly SBOO, and always went
away with a satisfied smile. He cams
regularly for two months, and at first I
suspected him of evil designs, but I toon
saw my fears, were groundless. WelL
the morning after the bracelet was sold
that man came up and looked high and
low.for the familiar object. Finally he
walked in and demanded of ip? clerk
where it was. ‘Sold,’said he. ‘What!’
shrieked the seedy man. Sold! Why
you traud, what do you mean by putting
goods in your window to attract buyers,
and then selling them! You don’t catch
me buying anything here!’ and ha
stalked out in a high dungeon. Some
other dealer is probably ‘attracting’ his
custom now. I have had many amusing
experiences with tha window-gazers,
but in oddity this one excelled them
all.”—r The Jeuelere' Weekly.
Reducing their Weight.
Getting rid of the surplus flesh that
keeps him from riding is not the pleas
antest task for a jockey, especially if he
has been in the saddle several years, like
Fitzpatrick, who is the heavy-weight
among the riders in the East. It is not
only difficult, but extremely dangerous,
and it is the more so when it is dona
over night to get down to the minimum
weight for a next day mount. Two or
three years ago McLaughlin reduced bis
flesh nine pounds in one day in order to
ride in a great match race. That was
when he was young, though, and wil
ling to make any sacrifice to win such
an event, nc could not stand such
physical exhaustion today.
Bobby Swim, who was tho greatest
jockey on the American turf ten or a
dozen years ago, reduced his weight
eleven pounds in one night when ho waa
riding on the Mobile, Ala., course.
Swim was riding for Price McGrath,
who was known as the Irish Prince
from the fact that ho always appeared at
the Lexington track on opening day ina
suit of green broadcloth. Swim became
dissipated, and when the great race be
tween Major Thomas’ Himyar and Com
mie F. was run. Swim was refused the
mount on Himyar. He thereupon went
to the owuers of Cammic F. and offered
to ride that horse for nothing if he lost
and SSOO if he won. This was the day
before the race, and the jockey would
have to reduce his weight eleven pounds
to ride Cammie F., but nothing dauot
cd the “jock” set about the work, hit
offer being gladly accepted. That night
Swim was rolled in threejienvy blankets,
after having taken previously a Turkish
bath. Then he was laid out for the
greater part of the night before a blaz
ing wood fire, and sweated till the
blankets had to be changed. In the
morning he was given another Turkish
bath. When he entered the paddock
he was so weak be had to be supported
to the saddle. He won on Cammie F.,
finishing a length before Hknyar, who
had been a heavy favorite. That waa
Swim’s last great race, for ho went to
the dogs shortly after through drink.
The dwelling-house in Litchfield, Eng
-1 n I, famous aa the birthplace of Dr.
Samuel Johnson, i> to lie sold tjiia
month.