:' ' ' " i -11 1 . ' - ' ' jwgfe ' '-'ili'-r '' iH''tK'"r
1 . -
1 i , .. . .i i iii . -t ' - ' '' ' 11 1 i . ! 1 1 ' ' '
: t X
ruKrho. DJSMOOR AO.Y WE PIN OUR FAITH.,
H. C. WILL, Editor and Proprietor.
$1.50 per Tear in AoraBce.
51 5J)cMgh
WHOLE NO. 614.
yOL III. NO: 12.
.t. , :
I
Si
f M,
V5
'I:
to
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?."? ...
V5
1
AM .
BU RG ESS NICHOLS,
mtOLMAIJI AKD BJRUL DX1XES JM ALL KIirDe OV
Furniture, B eddiag, Mattresses, Chairs, Etc.
OH A.RLOTTE, N. O
IVOLLROOXOt
Cheap Bedsteads, Lounges, Parlor and Chamber Suits,
COFFINS OF ALL KINDS ALWAYS ON HAND.
A. inn ItMk of TvoltaM b m Mot lmU ta th HmOm
MECKLENBURG
r! -
IRON
WOH
O.
i CHARHjOTTB, liT.
j M1NUFA0TUEES AND KEEPS IN BTOOK
i Btoam Enginei and Boilers. ' ,
"Traction Engiaei ;
Saw Milla withVarUbW Friotion Paod. -k j L
Wheat Mill Outflt.
j Oorn MfflaPorttble.
6paratora, Thzaahera and Hon Pofwwa
I Eeapeia, Mowara and Eakea - I
,i Steam and Water PipoaBraaa Fitting .
REPARS PROMPTLY ATTENDED TO.
Address, ,
JOHIM WILKES, Manager.
1 AJ2AB LOVJB SONG, --
"; :-! rTft.'ia , &,
The lota Area gltttatti the rty, f P :
The earth is dllad with dreamy tight .
Ohjl-coaaato wa, toe lvd nigh 1 Vy. ;
Oh, oome td me; my tool's delight T "- 3
The earth i filled with dreamy light, ,
The night wind acaUara odors sweet " '
Oh, oome to me, my eonl's delight f
Lo 1 1 em welting at thy feet 1
t V; v. a. . ; wvtt ,' ' -
The night wind soatters odors sweet, .
i It wakes the ahunber-laden flowers.
fio:l X.aValttoft,y,7M' v f
Oh, ware thy jasmine-scented bowers !
It wakes the snfmcer-laden flowers, t
.The nightingale breaks forth in song.
Oh, leave thy Jajnnine-ee,te4 bowers I
My heart, why tarriest thoo so long 1
The nightingale breaks forth In song, : :
The roses sway above the gate.(
My heart, why tarriest thou so long?
- When they awake wilt thoa still wait ?
The rosea sway above the gate,- e
, Thy sister blossoms, red and white.
i VThen they awake wilt thoa still wait ?
"" Oh, come to me, my sonl's delight !
Stdhkt Hxbsxbt FlXBSOH.
handsome lirunnette daughter, both bo
, came popular. ; 1: ' S: -:'---
Albert and Will., my boys, were oldei
i than the girls; Albert in bosiness with
Jme. and Wffl at ooHeste. the winter
when Joanna and Saaie made their
debnt.,.. H'J
JOHN'S DAUGHTER.
Yoa
ATTOKjmTSJ.
TSANKLfCT MoNEIL,
ATTORWEY AT LAV,
TIOCKINQHAM, N.C.
win
WALTEB H. NEAT.,
FARM ATM) GABDEN.
. Ah EooNOiucAi Wood-Houbb. The
Indiana .Former tells how . to build a
wood-house, inclosed by the wood itself,
at very little expense. - Bet four posts
firmly in the ground, for the oorners of
the building. Spike plates on these to
receive the rafters supporting the side
iljf-7!e' -posS.' Thsse pr.stp
. "Ton will care for my child t
will not let my little one suffer T"
My old friend and college chum, John
Harmon said this as he wrung my hand
hard. ' I repeated my promise that in
my Own homenest, where there was
a nursery full of little ones, Susie Har
mon should hold a daughter's place.
We were standing upon the wharf
waiting for the signal that it was time
for my friend to step aboard an out
going California steamer, He had lost
his wife within the year, and soon after
was beggared by a fire that totally de
stroyed the cotton mills in which he had
held the position of superintendent for
ten years. With his home desolate, his
purse empty, he resolved, as many a
man had done before him, to seek his
fortune in the modern El Dorado, and
dig for gold in her mines. '
The only drawback to this scheme
was the difficulty of taking his three-year-old
daughter, who had been in the
care of hired nurses since her mother
died. . I, who shared every thought of
John's mind, talked with my wife, and
found her eagerly willing to take care of
the little one.
"I am sure I loved Mary as well as
r vou loved John.' she said, "and there
t a '
is no one can have a stronger claim upon
the child than we have."
So, sure of her cordial welcome in om
nursery, I made John the offer of
home for his little one, and it was ao
ceoted as lovingly as it was offered.
This care removed, my frloi." LaBif
t,-.ii
LAURINBURC, N. C.
motto is Blohmood sad adjaoon onattoa.
pi ttaattan pm to
HAHLET THRIVES
mmmm.
BoSj Dry Ooeds, Onoarioa, SfcoM. at., 80 CDW that
tkaaativaaaiaaatonuhad. Bafora aoTiss. oaU aad m
BY GOODS.
I
BOOTS,
OBOCtXJJO,
aarSk
SHOES. ODTLEBT. UJUU '
rLODB, HOLASSES, . EACOIT, SBIP 8TT7TT.
Andalmoot onrrtbinc aaedadby tbaaonpl.
Bomratoeal andsaoni bofora baying. It will SO
o Tonr A anU. J. W. FABXS.
WiilS stl . . Hamlat. B. O.
r
BUS
aatki
Tafc
Board
Board
EOCKINGHAM, N. C.
tabto wfU atwmrs b apaHsd with tba
it 6ffoida.
BATES
.UbUmI aisar Ma'mth in
II v
CU meals. M-W'-i"Vy:-L""
'-4 '."-' HOT HIS KAIO. '
0ut in Xenia, Ohio, there is brlghi
; lawyer. There is a score of them in fact,
but this bright particular legal star is
' Henry Warrington. I oall him Henry
-Warrington because that is not his name.
His real name appears on the playbilli
'ol 'Touth." Well, the Beoond Advent
ists oame to Xenia one time and the
: preacher did a lot of street preaehing.
One day liwyer Warrington stopped to
listen to him just at the time when ka
was wanted in eourt, and a bailiff oame
-to the window to oall him. Thepreaohei
was just shrieking: "And who will be
damned T Who will be damned V
Boared out the stentorian tones of the
bailiff over the way: "Henry Warring.
! ton I i Henry Warrington P And Henry
only said he would be, if he was. Only
he didn't say it just that way. Bxjb-
. The Oyster's Enemies.;
At meeting of oyster raisers on
Long . Island, Mr. John Maekay said :
"I have made a special study "j-af what
aysters feed on. They feed on vege
table ; matter so minute that it can be
sejen only under a rnicreseope. A star
fish destroys the oyster in this way: It
spreads itself over it and cuts off a
part of the upper shell with an instru
ment it has in the centre of its body.
. .Then it sticks a long kind o thing into the
oyster and sucks it out. The winkle has
ft saw wiih which it eats off the dge of
the shell, and so ' does the drill or borer.
I've seen star fish Chaw np sea spiders,
too. I It pioka , 'em all to pieces, and
things look like a wreck when it gets
feet high.'; When the roof is completed,
pile up stovewood to the plates on ail
the sides, leaving an opening for a
door at the proper place. In this
fuel fox the winter can, ba safely sj
away in the fall, and the stock Ban be
replenished at any tune when neoessary.
The walls may be used as a summer
supply for the cooking-stove, and re
placed before another winter. Such a
wood-house Roosts' but little more than
the roof.
Aears m Potato Ccotcrb. In the
fan of 1883 I tamed, over two acres of
coating of stable dressing, and on one
half the piece spread 100 bushels of un
bleached ashes. We planted the pota
toes in drills, using a liberal amount of
superphosphate in the hill, where we
placed one-whole potato, the seed being
selected with care. The potatoes had a
vigorous growth and we looked for a
bountifnl crop, which we had; but they
Were the roughest and the most scurvy :
lot of potatoes I ever raised, and it was
the ashes that did it, for we planted a
few rows without ashes, . otherwise
dressed the same," and we harvested a
fine crop of table potatoes. Raimond.
Fbesbbvtbo Potatoes -Dubtho Win
tzb. A crop of a hundred bushels of
potatoes was put in the cellar in Sep
tember. An offensive odor seemed to
arise from ' them, which pervaded the
house, although the . windows of the
cellar were all open and an outside door
was left standing open night and day.
Potatoes were occasionally found in the
pile showing a strong Inclination to de
cay. Not wishing to remove them,, one
rainy day they were carefully sorted
over and all: suspicious-looking ones
were thrown oat and fresh lime was
sifted over them lightly as they were
heaped up. No further trouble fol
lowed either from decay or bad odors.
It is a tradition that the flavor of pota
toes is best preserved by leaving them
in the field in pits, covering first with a
layer of straw and a few inches of earth.
At - the approach of cold weatner they
ve covered again with alternate layers
of straw and sods sufficient to keep out
the frost. They may be finished with a
thick jayer'. of oornstalks if desired.
When needed for use they are removed
to the cellar, and the taste is superior to
those which have been exposed to the
light. In the spring, if they are packed
in boxes of dry sand, they will not wilt,
as they usually do in warm weather.
. ' ? express train of eight oars is valued
kfeU" -466,700; the engine and tender at $10,-
t iV tvfiOO. I the- baggage car at $1,000, the
- noatal ear at 82.000. the smoker at CVJ,.
200. the two common passenger oars at
43.000 each, and tnree pataoe ears as
A Neighborly Way.
. A - Citizen having heard that his
Neighbor' was, Scandalizing him called
Around at the office for an Explanation,
' 'Haven't I always Spoken Well of yon
and yours 7" he asked. ;
' "Oh, yes." ;-: '''.v
"Haven't I lent you my Snow Shovel,
mv Flat-irons and my Coffee Mills for
these many years past V
"Tea, but-"
. "But What 1 What on Earth could
have Induced yoa to throw out hints
that my Aunt was my Uncle ?"
"Why, - my : Dear Sir, your Snow
Shovel is broken, your Flat-irons too
old to be of Farther use, and your
Coffee Mill will no longer grind. How
can I Longer Neighbor with such
; Moral: j , Whcn'Voa can't ' live oS
Neighbor make him sorry for it. -A?-
. troil Free Pre. .
J :
companled him to New York and saw
him'off.
The next morning I returned home
to find Susie almost inconsolable, crying
perpetually for "papa to oome to Susie."
My wife was distracted at the failure
to comfort this childish Borrow, and our
own three children looked on wonder
ingly at
"Naughty Susie, who cried and cried,
after mamma told her to be quiet." 1
Fortunately. Susie was accustomed to
see me, to snuggle in my arms when I
talked with John, to associate me with
her father, and she allowed me to com
fort her. Irk time this violent grief wore
away, and the child became very happy
in our care. Mr bus id ess. trHt oz a
hardware merchant, being very pros
percus, we did not feel the additional
expense of the child's support a burden;
and as the years wore by, sue was as
dear to us as our own little ones.
But she understood always that she
was not our child, but had a dear father
who! loved her fondly, and was away
from her only to make a fortune for her.
As Boon as she was old enough she had
her father's letters read to her, andhei
first efforts at penmanship were lotten
to "Papa." . '
John wrote often for ten years, re
counting his varying suooess, sometime
sending money to buy presents for Su
sie. He was winning fortune slowly,
not at the mines, where his health broke
down, but in the employ of a San Fran
cisco merchant, and some speculation
in real estate.
He was not a rich man, he wrote
after an absence of ten years, but pros-
pering, when he purposed paying us a
visit. He wrote hopefully of seeing his
child, perhaps of taking her home with
him, setting no definite time, but lead
ing us to expect soon to see him. Then
his letters oeased, and he did not come.
I wrote again and again, Susie wrote.
No answers came to either one or the
other. We did not know the name oi
his employer, and after nearly two years
more passed we sadly thought he must
be dead,
it might have seemed to many un
natural for Susie to grieve so deeply as
she did for a father almost unknown to
her in reality, but she was a girl o!
most sensitive feelings, with a tender,
loving heart, and we had always kept
her father's name before her, striving to
win him a place in her fondest affection.
That we had succeeded only too well
was shown by her sorrow, when week
after week passed, and there was no
good news from California.
When we had really lost . all hope, it
became Susie's great pleasure to sit be
side me and ask me again and again fox
the stories I remembered of her father's
boyhood and youth, his college life,' our
many excursions, and, above all, of his
marriage and the gentle wife and mother
so early called to heaven. ' . -
She dearly loved those talis, and no
memories were more precious than my
description of her father's pain in part
ing from Iter, sad Us desire to win
money in California only foi her.
Time softened Susie's grief, and at
eighteen she was one of the sweetest,
most winning girls I ever Baw. . Without
being a wonder of erudition, she was
well educated, had a fair musical talent
and a sweet, well-oultivated voice. She
was tall and graceful,-and when she was
iurroduoed to society with Joanna, ny
It would take me quite too long to
tell of the pleasures of the young folks
during this winter, but Joanna was won
irom us by a Cuban gentleman, and
Susie became, if possible, ; dearer than
even ' . ; " ' . '0l
Spring had come, when one evening
. Albert came into my library, where 1
was plodding over a book, having worked
busily all day. He fussed about the
books in a nervous way, quite unlike his
usual quiet manner and finally said;,
'. Father, you have often said Susie is
as dear to you as one of your own chil
dren." '"' i
I looked up amazed at this opening
speech.1
Well?" I asked.
. Will you make her your daughter in
fact by giving her to me for a wife ?
Dear 1 dear ! To think I had been so
blind. Susie had in truth beoome so
much one of our children that I was as
much astonished as if Albert had fallen
in love with Joanna. -But
I soon found, when Susie's blush
ing face was hidden upon my breast,
that she, too, had given away her heart,
and I was only too well pleased that no
stranger had won the precious gift
In September they were married, my
son and the child of our adoption, and 1
gave them a house next our own for a
home, having old-fashioned ideas about
such matters, and believing it is better
for young married people to live by
themselves and assume housekeeping
cares. yS s
The new home was a gem of neatness
under Susie's dainty fingers, and the
spirit of perfect love kept it ever bright.
Having been brother and sister for so
many years, Albert and Susie thorough
ly understood each other's dispositions
and I have never known domestic hap
piness more perfect than theirs.
Susie's first child, named for her
father, John Harmon, was two years
old, when the mail brought mo a letter
in an unknown hand from Cincinnati. I
opened it, and upon a large sheet oi
paper found written, in a scrawling, un
even hand, three lines:
"DbabSib: Will you oome to me at
47 M street without letting Susie
know. JohsHabmon."
At first I believed it was a hoax. John
had written a bold, clerk-like band, cleat
as print. This was a scrawl, struggling
I over the rpei, an!i3 us De-tim
long cramped In thecar-seats, Ipropoet
to walk home. . v V- 1
'Is it not too far off J aske?
"I thought the asylum was a long wa
from here." " ' '
' "Oh, the whole plaoe is changed from
the little village yon left I". I answered;
We have a great town here now, and
your asylum is not very far from here."
He let me lead him taen, wunngiy :
enough, and we were notiocg iu reach
ing Susie's home. She was alone in the
cheerful sitting-room ias we entered, but
obeyed my motion for silence, as I
placed John in a great arm-chair, after
removing his hat and ooat. He looked
wretchedly old and worn, and his clothes
were shabby, yet Susie's BOft eyes, misty
with tears, hadbnly love In their expres
sion as she waited permission to speak.
"John," I said to him, "if I had found
. , , i - ,
you in a pleasant none, nappy ana
prosperous, and I bad known tnat Husie
was poor, sick and blind, would it have
been a. kindly act for me to hide her
misfortune from you, and passing by
her in the
DOTO IN A . COIL MINE.
HOW MINERS CaN DIB
BBATEIr
Cataaly Wrltlaar 0teaaM to Loved Oaea
whit Death Creeps Cpee Then.
THE GUT FAWKES PLT.
The Infamona Conspiracy to Blesr Cpthe
House of liertfa Recalled..
WINTER AM05G THE TTOODSMItf. ; 4 ,
Hard Work by Day and JollV Tlwee at ' ,., '
Night la the Ferests of Maine. , ,
rl? ei
feat the more I pondered over the
matter the more I was inclined to obev
the summons. So pleading business,
saying nothing oi the letter to any one,
I left home by the night train for Cin
cinnati
No. 47 M street I found to be a
boarding house for the poorest classes,
and in a shabby room, half furnished, 1
found an aged, worn man, perfectly
blind, who rose to greet see, sobbing.
"Fred, I knew you would come.
"Why, old friend," I said, when sur
prise and emotion would let me speak,
'how is this? We thought you wert
dead."
"Does Susie think so?"
"Yev -We al).T-ve you up."
"Do not XT, ' 1 '-ed.
meant to oomfi ' v ,7tc
gratify every . , rt
Do not let her know that oniy a blind.
sick wreck is left for her to call father.
Tell me of her, Fred, Is she well ? Is
she happy?" .
"She is both, John a happy wife and
mother."
"Married 1 My little Susie?"
"Married to Albert, my son, of whom
you may judge when I tell you folks say
he is his father over again.
"I would ask no more for my o!iild,'!
said John.
Then, In answer to my anxious ques
tions, he told me the story of the years
of silence. He was preparing to pay us
his promised visit when a great fire
broke out in San Francisco, that ruined
his employer for the time, and swept
away a row of buildings uninsured, in
which John had invested all his savings.
Worst of all, in trying to save the boots
of the firm, - John was injured on the
head by a falling beam, and lay for
months in a hospital. When he so far
recovered as to be discharged, his mind
was still impaired, and he could not per
form the duties of olerkor superintend
ent, while his health was too feeble for
manual labor.
"I struggled for daily bread alone,
jrrea, ne wjia me, -ana wnen l re
ceived your loving letters, and dear Su
sie's, I would not write, hoping to send
better tidings if I waited for a turn of
fortune's wheel. It never eame, Fred,
left California three years ago, and came
here, where I was promised the place of
foreman in a great pork-packing house.
I saved a little money and was hoping
for better times when my health failed
again,' and this time with it my eye-sight.
I hoped against hope, spending my sav
ings to have the best advice, and not
until I was pronounced incurable would
I write to you. I want you to take me
to an asylum, Fred; and, as I must be
a pauper patient, I must go to my own
town, i Ton will take me, Fred ?"
"I will take you to an asylum, John,';
I promised, .
"And Susie? Too, will keep my sa
oret. You will not disturb Susie's hap
piness?" f
"I will not trouble Susie's happiness,"
I said.
Yet an hour later I was writing to Su
sie, and I delayed our departure from
Cincinnati till an answer came. It waa
the answer I expected from the tender,
loving heart, but I said nothing of it to
John,
Caring tenderly for his comfort, I took
him on his way homeward. Ik was even
ing when we reached, the railway depo
of our own town, and as we had been
. - i a
your home, to nave piacea
care of charitable strangers ?'
"Fred,, you would never have .done
that !" he said, much agitated.
"Never !" I answered. "Ton are right-
But you, John, ask me to take from
Susie the happiness of knowing a father's
love, the sweet auty oz oaring lor a
father's affliction."
No, no, Fred., I only ask you to put
no burden upon her young life, .to throw
no cloud over her happiness. I am old
and feeble; I shall trouble no one long."
"And when you die, you would de
prive ycur only child of the satisfaction
of ministering to your wants take from
her her father's blessing.'
He turned his sightless eyes toward
me, his whole face working convul
sively. "Where Is she, Fred. ? You would
not talk so if you did not know my
child still loves her father."
"I am .here, father," Susie said; and
I stole softly away, as John clasped his
child in his arms. Albert was in the
dining-room with Johnnie, and I was
chatting still with him, when I heard
John calling:
"Fred. 1 Fred. !"
I hurried to the room to find him
struggling to rise, Susie vainly trying to
calm him.
"I want my child !" he cried, deliri
ously., "you promised me my child I"
I saw at a glanoe that the agitation of
the evening had brought back the wan
dering mind, of which he had told me.
Albert and I released Susie, who left us
quickly.
&-.'nc :a-sr I'.jMiur " m ve post.
guided her, for she f oinuaeu wi. Jonu
nie, and whispering him to be very good
and kiss grandpapa, she put him in
her father's arms. In a second his ex
citement was gone, and he fondled the
onrly head, while Johnnie obediently
pressed his lips tzpou the withered
cheek. So, in a little time, they fell
asleep, Johnnie nestled in the feeble
arms, and the withered face drooping
upon the golden curls. We watched
them silently, till we saw a shadow pass
over John'B face, and a change settle
there that comes but onoe in life.
Gently Albert lifted the sleeping child,
and carried him to the nursery, while
Susie and I sat beside the arm-chair.
"Uncle Fred," she whispered, "Al
bert will go for a doctor. But may I
waken him ? Let him speak to me once
more !"
Even as she spoke John opened his
eyes. AU me waiov'K sras gone rrom
them as he groped a moment till ornie
put her hands in his. Then a heavenly
smile came upon the wasted lips, and he
aid softly, tenderly: - '
."Susie, mv own little child, Susie.
And with the name on his lips John's
spirit went to seek an' eternal asylum, in
which therewill .be no more poverty,
pain or blindness.
Sixteen years ago there was a terrible
colliery explosion in Saxony, by which a
large number of miners lost their lives.
Of that disaster an old miner in Scran
ton has preserved a most remarkable
record in a series of manuscript copies,
translated into English, of messages
written to their friends by such of the
doomed Saxon miners as were not killed
outright by the explosion, but were pre
served for the no less sure and more ter
rible death by suffocation, as the poi
soned gases slowly destroyed the pure
air thiS remained in the mine. These
messages were found in note-books and
on scraps of paper en the dead bodies of
the poor men when they were at last re
covered. The manuscript copies of
these tenoning notes were made in
Cornwall by a relative of the old miner,
and were sent to him shortly after the
disaster. They are interesting outside
of their pathos, as answering the fre
quently asked question, How do men
feel : when about to die not after being
wasted and weakened by disease, or
when the blood is heated by the strife
of battle, but when they see inevitable
death slowly but certainly approaching
them, and know that in exactly so many
minutes it will seize upon them? Do
they rage and struggle against their
fate, or do they meet it with calmness
and resignation ? These messages show
that the poor miners awaited the com
ing of death with singular calmness and
resignation. Not one word in the whole
record reveals' a feeling of bitterness
against the fate they could not avert.
There is a curious pathos in some of
the lines scrawled ' by these death-besieged
men in the gloom of their nar
row prison. A young man, Janetz by
name, had pinned to his ooat a leaf from
a note-book, On it were written his
last words to his sweetheart i "Darling
Rika My last thought was of thee.
Thy name will be the last word my lips
shall speak. Farewell. i v
The miner Keiohe, when his body was
found, clutched iu his hand a scrap of
paper. "Dear sister," it read, "Meyer,
in the village, owes me ten thalera. It is
yours. I hope my face will not be dia
torted when they find us. I might have
been better to you. Good-by." Reicho,
according to the old bcranton miner,
who seems to have the histories of all
the unfortunate Saxon miners at his
was administered
Among the other
by a
con-
j tongue's end, was a severe man, and
km v anew oV-4ofae aa Mw
A Wealthy Railroad Man.
The estate of John W. Garrett
amounts to $35,000,000, says a Balti
more letter. After he had lost his wife
there seemed to be hardly a spot for him
fb look for shade and rest Yet he turns
out to have been true to his purpose of
riches. He saved himself enormous com
missions by keeping up a banking-house
of his own, which his sons controlled.
Robert Garrett he designed to take ex
ecutive charge of his estate, and his
other son, Henry, who was a man oi
cultivation, too, he kept at the head of
the banking-house. In the banking
house all the transactions of Mr. Garrett
were concealed. If he had operated
through any other house his secrets
would have leaked, out He has left
Henry Garrett, the head of the house
worth $10,000,000. His daughter Mary
is the richest single woman in America
worth $12,000,000, it is believed.
Robert Garrett is worth $12,000,000 or
more. Miss Garrett is still a young wo
man, not more than twenty-six or twenty-
eight. I should think, or thereabouts.
She has never married, and did a good
deal ct her father's correspondence and
particular work. She is a woman of cul-
tivation. and rumor in Baltimore has
said that she is going to marry a phy-
dcian there.
thought that he had not done right evi
dently haunted him in his death hour.
The absence of all selfishness, all re-
pinmgs on account ot tnemseives, is
touchingiy apparent in all the messages.
"My dear relations," wrote the miner
Schmidt, "while seeing death before me
I remember you. Farewell until we
meet again in happiness1." Lying next
to young Janetz, whose message to his
sweetheart is quoted above, i a -! miner
named Moretz was found. On a paper
in his cap was written: "Janetz has just
died. Beiohe is dying and says, 'Tell
my family I leave them with God.'
Farewell, dear wife. Farewell, dear
children. May God keep you." The
miners who died by suffocation had evi
dently been driven from one place o.
refuge to another, according to the fol
lowing, found In the note boos of a
miner named Bahr: "This is the last place
where we have taken refuge. I have
given up all hopej fcecuae-the--veaiiln-
tion has been destroyed in thfe separate
places. May God take myself and rela
tives, and dear , friends who must die
with me, as well as our families, under
His protection.1
"Dear - wife, writes Moller, "take
good care of Mary. In a book in the
bedroom vou will nad a thaler. Fare
well, dear mother, till we meet again.
Mary was the miner's only child, who
was blind.
A miner named Jahne or Jaehn wrote
to his brother, who was a miner, but
had been unable to work that day
Thank God for his goodness, brother
You are safe."
"No more toil in darkness," wrote
another.
The uniform spirit of piety thai
marked all the messages of the dying
The explosions in the English House
of Parliament recall the infamous "gun
powder plot," of 1605, for which Guy
Fawkes was executed in London, Janu
ary 80, 1606. The event has already
been a memorable one in the history of
England, and November 5, the day of
the disclosure, was set apart as a day of
thanksgiving, and is religiously observed
in England. The historical features of j
the affair may I be told briefly. Guy
Fawkes was an adventurer, who, at the j
time the plct of-blowing up the. House
of Parliament and thus destroying the
King, Lofds aod Commons, was con
ceived, was serving in- the Spanish army
in the Netherlands. '
TJoon the accession of James L. the
severe penal laws $f Elizabeth against j
Romanists were again put into execu
tion, contrary to the expectations of the
followers of that, faith. The plot Was
conceived by Robert Catesby, a Roman
Catholic of an ancient family, who
vowed vengeance against the English
rulers for the severity of the penal laws.
Guy Fawkes was the fourth person ad
mitted into the conspiracy. He , with
the others took the oath of secrecy, and
w r
the sacrament
Jesuit priest.
spirators was Thomas Winter, who se
lected Fawkes to visit Spam and solicit
the Intervention of the King in behalf
of the English Catholics. Fawkea re
turned to England in 1604, having been
unsuccessful in his mission. Shortly
afterward Thomas Percy, another one
of the conspirators, rented a house ad
joining the one in which Parliament was
to assemble, and Fawkes, who was un
known in London, took possession of it
nnilor t.liA mummed name of Johnson.
Parliament adjourned until Feb. 7, !o05,
and on Dec II following, the conspira
tors held a secret meeting in the house.
The work of exeavating a mine was b
gun and seven men were engaged in
this labor until Christmas Eve. They
never appeared in the upper part of the
house, where Fawkes kept a constant
watch. When Parliament reassembled
the work was abandoned, bat finally
completed between February and May
following. About this time Fawkes
hired a ault beneath the House of
Lords, which had been vacated by a
dealer in coal. At night thirty-six bar
rels of gunpowder were carried into the
vault and covered with faggots.
The conspirators then adjourned to
hold a consultation. A number of
wealthy men were taken into the plot,
among whom were Sir
am. Parliament was to meet again on
November 5, and Fawkes was appointed
to fire the mine with a slow match.
Some of the new men who had been ad
mitted into the conspiracy, desired to
save their Catholic friends in the two
houses. Lord Monteagie, a Roman:
Catholic peer, received an anonymous
cote cautioning him against , attending
he meeting of Parliament. x The matter
was laid before King James, and at mid
night, November i, a search was made of
the neighboring houses and cellars,
which resulted in the capture of Guy
Fawkes as he was coming from the cel
lar. Matches and torchwood were found
in his pockets. Although put to torture,
he refused to, disclose the names of his
confederates. A meeting of the con
spirators 'was convened, and in the ex
citement that followed they were all
either killed or captured. Guy Fawkeo
and eight others were tried, after which
they were drawn, hanged and quartered
:. " ' '"".'
A Story or c-ptain Ryndf v-
Despite the unprofitable 1 year juat ' ;
past in the lumber business, the-woods-
men have gone inwarms from Bangor, ' . ;
as usual, this wintato cut sprnoe and ;:
pine on thfftenobsooti One in- ;
duoement to' fc&r lumbermen to operate
is the low cost of provisione, it being s
possible to board a crew cf men 20 to 25
rnv ion ihAanAV fntin ft TAflT Arr
junuux tUBv jo iwwj no tug j. nuw v -
Island boys havffpoured into Bangor oy
the hundred thia.&son looking for em
ployment, and they have put wages
down and kept them there. jThink of a
3tout voting man swinging an ax all
win tor fot $10 to $15 a month' and his
boacdw These- are the wages accepted
by many of the Prince Edward Island
loggers. Thane was-a timo in the days
of tug pines, near by, when, a woodsman
was looked upon as a man who h.id
learned a trade. -
Many people nave queer Ideas of how .. i sj
loggers live in the wcds. iy jThey build r
a camp immediately, if there is not one
already near the scene of their work,
and are seldom more than a day abai
it. "ine opmp is simpiy - """"i
with low side and steop-pitched roof.
The chinks of the alls are filled in with
ad, moss, and leaves, and a high bank
ing of earth or snow reaches almost to
the eaves outside. The entrance is
in one end, and the only window is in
the opposite end. The cook and his as
sistant have a sort of panty partitioned
off at the window end, and there are
wood and provision storerooms on either ;
side of the entrance. The remainder of
the building forms one room. On one
side is a long couch made of boughs,
hay or straw, covered with". heavy quilts
and blankets, oh which the men deep in
a row. On the opposite side is a long
table, made of small logs, hewn smooth
on top, on which the food is Berved. In
front of it is a big log hewn otft for a
settee, and called the deacon seat. The
men, when done eating, bave' only to
turn around in their seat to toast their
shins at a big fire of logs,; whioh glows
like a small vooanol in the midst of all,
and sends its smoke and sparks through
a hole in the roof, Bix feet, square, the
draft being aided by a roof-tree.
The. fare is 'plain and monotonous,
but wholesome and substantial. Pork
and beans, bread and molasses, and
pork fat, the latter used for butter, make
np a breakfast at sunrise Then the
crew goto work, and, if near by the
camp, they come back at 12 o'clock for
dinner, which is beans and pork, with
m
Everard Digby, j rrk Bcraps a
t
i-
and doughnuts.
The men
is too xX; rtcV. u, hem-,
lCKSqyiSMtt bpiuoe, aim nuou come back ,
gof the . same viands,
varied with dried aplg-sauoe. Fish is .
served once or twice a weefiT" rT&r w'
erage is cheap tea. I
' Evenings and Sundays are passed In "
telling wonderful yarns,! singing ear
splitting songs, and smoking. In some .
camps the men play cards, and gamble
for tobacco, clothing, and even wages.
The woods beans are the est of all -baked
beans, and put Boston In the
shade. They are cooked in an iron , pot
placed in a pit surrounded by live Coals ,
and covered tightly with earth over
night. In the morning they are dona
to a turn. No range can oompete with ;'
the bean hole of the woods. "V,".
The woodsmen range in age from ' s
to 65, dress in heavy woolen or kni';'' f 4
derwear, cheap ready-made -v..;,
cloth or knitted caps, moccasins :? '
many socks and mitten" hrT'.'.f ' : v
In the Polk-Clay cam
first reported that Clay
and as such Mr. Fref'
was nominated lor vit; , ;
the Clay fccket, as sereii-.'
Whigs.. ; He made his app,. , ;
the balcony of his house in r.,;
the serenade and modestly disclaim
pride or delight in his election.-
wound up his speech to the enthusiastic
Whigs by declarin' that he "would
welcome the day when his term of office
should expire, and that he would be
more glad to get rid of his office then
than hiB friends were glad to bestow it
on him now," all of which sounded first-
.if
S;t!.
ta - i. Aia AnmA t.har Tint,
men was expiated by the custodian of Frelingauysn,
So Letter let
Did you ever spend the day in a conn
try Post-Oflice? No 1- I sat behind
big glass esse with the Postmaster, and
as we sat a'ld chatted girls and boys
came trooping in, asking for letters fox
"our folks." The Postmaster was ur
banity personified, and with a smile he
would say again and again and again,
"Nothing .to-day for you." "Dp you
knew that some of these children's
parents, to a certain knowledge, haven't
had a letter in three years? And yet
they come here every mail without fail
and chirp out, H you please, sir, any
thing for our folks V And ; do you sup
pose they are dismayed, 3 after a year's
continued daily inquiries ? Not at all 1"
ihesfi tonohincr reoords. He said the
miners of saxony , are ail reared in a
strict religious school, and that on enter
ing the mines they all petition Heaven
for protection through the day, and on
leaving the mines returs thanks to God
for guarding them and bringing thenr
safely through foe dangers of their toil.
"I never read the simple messages of
those poor men without moistenedjyes,"
said the old miner, and his eyes were
certainly more than moist as he spoke.
"I can picture to myself the sceue of the
rough-handed but soft-hearted 1 men,
spending their last moments not in wild
fries for meroy and screams of remorse,
nor in repinings against their cruel fate,
but iu sending these farewell messages
to their loved ones, who were even then
bewailing them as dead. ' While, my
heart bleeds over the, picture, I thank
God that, humble miners though they
were, they showed the world how bravely
and nobly they could die," ' . , -
Evebx Dat. An old broken-down
gambler of Paris may be seen daily
promenading in the shabbiest attire,
with a magnificent white canielia in his
button-hole. Some years ago he won a
great deal of money and determined to
make sure that he should always be sup
plied with his favorite flower. He there
fore paid a large sum in cash to his
florist who agreed to supply him with
a white eamelia every day for the rest
of his life. And, sow the decayed bid
sport struts up and down the boulevards
with a eamelia worm more than the
WW' Bimw ipii. Mi.. - - .
but Dallas, had been elected. Rynders,
at the head of the Empire Club, b tar ted
off to the house of Benjamin F. Butler,
the New York lawyer who had nomi
nated Polk at the Baltimore convention,
and announced the glad tidings.
Butler and Frelinghuysen lived next
door to each other, and so the Whig
candidate who had been congratulated
on his Buccess one night sat at his win
dow the next night while the crowd
announoed the suooess of his opponent.
Rynders was mounted on a fine gray
horse, which he rode well. And sittin'
on his horse right under Butler's win
dow, he addressed that gentleman in
his usual blunt enthusiastic way, con
gratulatin' him on the victory of ; hia
nominee. vy '
During his speech Frelinghuysen
poked his head out to listen, naturally
enough, and naturally enough,. Rynders
caught a glimpse pf him doin' )so. j The
sight of the defeated Whig candidate gave
the Democratic speaker a bright idea,
which he acted upon with oharaoteristio
promptitude. Drivin his gray -horse
right under the Whig candidate's win
dow.Ryndeni said, addressing the aston
ished Frehnghuysen: ...
"You said last night, air, tnat you
wonld feel glad when your, fane oame
to be' relieved of the eares of office. We
Democrats have taken yon at yoar.ord.
As a Democrat I am glad. ta. (snnounee
to yon thafc: James K. Polk has jpe
elected President oltha United; , 8
and that therefore yod are xeK-t l
betroW' - j .
f sentiments u, , -. '
a very profoni
upon every bo ;
who heard thes. .
iady very highly, in Wjli
tion cf the whole pu&hV
letter is now found to haye .
varbatim from a book of 4or
where it appears under t
"Letters from a young lady
of a valuable gift." Everyb M
don is said to be laughing v. ;
discovery. ..But as Miss; Fc ",,.-,v''i..
received her 550,000r she wi ;, ' V'?:
not be much affected. BoW
'-V K
Who Was Driving ,
One of the prettiest oonoeih ,J
Remus' new book is put into t '
of an old negro driven na v
away from his master and coul
caught; but an old lady bong
because he had saved the: life of:,
and he surrendered himself and
a faithful servant fi .'.?'"
When his old mistress ';';;v
her wandering mind dwai-.
negro who had served her svf,'. 1
She fancied she was making ; ;f
"The carriage' $ffirlf&.'f:l '
here," ahe; sait'"'-
pause, she as,
and the wee"
comer
"Tam't t:-5 W :, vv.'v.J - s it v'
And so dti .s -iA I jrpy.-
Lord-ate
would dream, i:
life into the bf . "('."
the dead ta&'JfV.!
1 .
'I
i.
-V,
I w :;? v
et-fi .1.1.'! 1 a "
V ' '
ft-
V
bn the j--7 . --r-m- . ; ;t v mx-p-i,,
T&i-y 1-'H 'frSt fV
V; "
; $1600 each. v: v--- ,v, . . -w
Wii :i,V- ffX" : ' l-i. vl'
t- a
7- 1 -1 t'
0M"
1:
a.!-:i.''J..
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