l.OO A yeXk in advance.
'FOR GOD, FOR COUNTRY, AND FOR TRUTH."
SINGLE COl'Y, 5 CENTS.
VOL. X.
PLYMOUTH, N; C, FRIDAY,' OCTOBER 21, 1808.
NO.
A JUVENILE
lly gran'dad says these modern dajs
Of steam au' 'leotrio light
Beat anything that evor was;
An' gran'dad's mostly right.
But I can't help some doubtfulness
When Into bed I climb
An dream about those good old dayg
Of Once Upon a Time.
I've got to hustle on the farm
When I get big enough,
I wish I knew some fairy spoil
To do the work that's rough. !
I'd like to raako the brownies toll
By saying some queer rhyme
The same as them there wizards did
In Once Upon a Time.
I "THE BLUE RAT."
-A. IClonclllxe SEJjplsoele.
KV HAMLIN
jPie y y t y y ay y m y m ay
' Even in the Klondike life is not al
together simple or always free from
guile. Were proof of that nature
needed it might be found in the his
tory of our experience with the Bine
Eat.
We came to know him through our
-., need of a pony. We had two service
able pack horses, but we needed a lit
tle pony to vim along behind and
carry the tent aud a few little traps
like that
A citizen of Quesnelle possessed
such a steed. This citizen was a
German and had a hairlip and a most se
ductive gentleness of voice. His name
. was Dippy, aud I gladly make him
historical. He sold me the Blue Rat
, aud gave me a chance to study a new
. type of horse.
Herr Dippy (Dutch Dippy) was not
a Washington Irving sort of Dutch
man; he conformed rather to the mod
ern New York tradesman. He was
. .small,, candid and smooth, very smooth
of speech. He said: "Yes, the pony
is gentle. He can be rode or packed,
but you better lead him for a day or
two till he gets quiet."
I did not see the pony till the morn
ing we "hit the long trail" on the
west side of the Fraser river, but my
side partner had reported him to be a
'nice little pony, round and fat and
gentle." On that I rested.
In the meantime Mr. Dippy joined
aa at the ferry, ne held a horse by
the rope and waited arouud to finish
the trade. I presumed he intended
to cross and deliver the pony, which
was in a corral on the west side, but
he lisped out a hurried excuse. "The
ferry is not .coming back today and
so"
Well, I paid him the money on the
strength of my side partner's report;
besides it was Hobson's choice.
Mr. Dippy took the 25 eagerly aud
vanished into obscurity. We passed
to the wild side of the Fraser and en
tered upon a long and intimate study
of the Blue Eat.
He shucked out of the log stable a
smooth, round, lithe-bodied little cay
use of a blue-gray color. He looked
like a child's toy, but seemed sturdy
and of good condition.
His foretop was "banged," and he
had the air of a mischievous, resolute
boy. His eyes were big and black,
And he studied us with tranquil but
inquiring gaze as we put the pack
saddle on him. He was very small.
"He's not large, but he's a gentle
little chap," said I to ease my partner
of his dismay over the pony's surpris
ing smallness. . ,
''I believe he shrunk during the
night," replied my partner. "He
seemed two sizes bigger yesterday."
We packed him with a hundred
pouuds of our food. We put a small
bag of oats on top and lashed it all on
with rope, while the pony dozed
paacefully. Once or twice I thought
I saw his ears cross; one laid back, the
other set forward bad signs but it
was done so quickly I could not be
sure of it.
We packed the other horses whilst
the blue pony stood resting one hind
leg, his eyes dreaming. :
I flung the canvas cover over the
iay pack "horse some
Obing took place. I heard a bang, a
clatter, a rattling of hoofs. I peered
around the bay aud saw the blue pony
performing some of the mbst finished,
vigorous and varied buckiiig it has
lover been given me to witness. He
all but threw somersets. He stood on
jiis ears. Ho humped up his back till
he looked like a lean cat on a grave
jard fence. He stood on his toe calks
.and spun like a weather vane on a
livery stable, and when the pack ex
ploded aud the saddle slipped under
him he kicked it to pieces by using
' both hind hoofs a3 gently as a man
would stroke his beard.
; After calming the other horses I
jaeed my partner solemnly.
yJ. UV me nut. I'minei. nueio um
: -you set that nice, quiet little blue
r pony of yours
I'artner smilea sneepisniy. ne
i .little imp. Buffalo Bill ought to have
that pony."
"Well, now," said I, restraining my
laughter, "the thing to do is to' put
that pack on so it will stay. That
pony will try the same thing again,
sure."
We packed him again with great
care. His big innocent black eyes
shining under his baug were a little
more alert, bat they showed neither
Imv li'.'r rage. We roped him in every
OPTIMIST.
I wish that pollahln' our lamp
A genie would arouse
Bo's I coufd say. "Go, slave, an feed
Them pigs an milk the cows."
I'd muke him wear the overalls
An' face the mud an grime,
But this ol' earth ain't what it was
In Once Upon a Time. . .
Yet history repeats itself,
My gran'dad says, an' so
I keep on hopln' as I watch
The seasous como an go
That I may live to see 'ern back
The brownies in their prime,
The wizards an them other folks
Of once Upon a Time.
OAKLAND.
jgp. jyt tffL jt rjfjuya V V1 y
conceivable way, and at last we dared
him to do his prettiest.
He did it. All that had gone be
fore was merely preparatory, a blood
warming, so to say; the real thing
now took place. He stood up on his
hind legs and shot into the air, alight
ing on his four feet as if to pierce the
earth. He whirled like a howling der
vish, grunting, snorting, unseeing and
almost unseen in a nimbus of dust,
strap ends and pine needles.
His whirling undid him. We seized
the rope and just as the pack again
slid under his feet we, set shoulder to
the rope and threw him. He came to
earth with a thud, his legs whirling
uselessly in the air. He resembled a
beetle in molasses.
We sat upon his head and discussed
him.
"He is a wonder," said my partner.
"He is a fiend," I panted.
We packed him again with infinite
pains, and when he began bucking
we threw him again and tried to kill
him. We were getting irritated. We
threw him hard and drew his hind
legs up to his head until he grunted.
When he was permitted to rise he
looked meek and small and tired, and
we were both a little remorseful. We
rearranged the pack it was some en
couragement to know he had not
bucked it entirely off and by blind
folding him we got him started on the
trail behind the train.
"I suppose that simple-hearted
Dutchman is looking at us from across
the river," said I to partner, "but no
matter; we are victorious. "
This singular thing I noticed in the
Blue Eat. His eye did not roll nor
his ears fall back. He was neither
scared nor angry. He still looked
like a roguish, determined boy. He
was alert, watchful, but not vicious.
He seemed not to take our stern meas
ures in bad part. He regarded it as a
fair contract, apparently, aud consid
ered that we had won. True, he had
lost both hair and skin by getting tan
gled in the rope, but he laid up nothing
against us, and as he followed meek
ly along behind, my partner dared to
say:
"He's all right now. I presume he
has been running out all winter and is
a little wild. He's satisfied now.
We'll have no more trouble with him."
Every time I looked back at the
poor, humbled little chap, my heart
tingled with pity and remorse. "We
were too rough," I said. "We must
be more gentle."
"Yes, he's nervous and scary. We
must be careful not to give him a sud
den start."
An hour later, as we were going
down a steep and slippery hill, the
Eat saw his chance. He )assed into
another spasm, opening and shutting
like a self-actiug jack-knfe. Hebound
ed into the midst of the peaceful pack
horses, scattering them to right and
left in terror.
He turned and came up the hill to
get another start. Partner took a
turn on a stump, and all unmindful of
it the Eat whirled and made a mighty
spring. " He reached the end of the
rope and his handspring became a
vaulting somersault. He lay, unable
to rise, spatting the wind, breathing
heavily. Such annoying energy I
have never seen. We were now mad,
muddy and very resolute. We held
him down till he lay quite still.
Any well-considered, properly bred
animal would have been ground to
bonedust by such wondrous acrobatic
movements. He was skinned in one
or two places, his hair was scraped
from his nose, his tongue bled, but all
these were mere scratches. When we
repacked him he walked off compara
tively unhurt.
The two days following he went
along like'a faithful dog. Every time
I looked behind I could see the sturdy
little chap trotting along. His head
hung low, and his actions were meek
and loyal. For a week he continued
thus. Partner became attached to
him and began once more to make ex-'
cuses for him. "He will never make
us troubla again," he said.
Rain came, transforming the trail
into a series of bottomless pits and
greasy inclines and we were forced to
lay in camp two days. The Blue Eat
stufied himself on pea-vine and bunch
grass, and on the third day "pitched"
with undiminished vigor. This settled
his fate.
I made up my mind to sell him.
Once I had determined upon his mo
tives I could not a lib rd to bother with
him any more. lie delayed us with
his morning antics, and made us the
amusement of the outfits which over
took and passed us by reason of our
interesting sessions with the Blue Eat
He must go and I selected my pur
chaser. 'He was a Missonrian from
Butte. He knew all there was to be
known about trails, horses, gold, poli
tics, and a few other things. He con
sidered all the other men on the ti&U
merely tenderfeet out for a picnic.
Each time he passed us he had some
drawling remark indicating his sur
prise that we should be still able to
move. Him I selected to become the
owner of the Eat.
I laid for him. When he had eaten
his supper one night I sauntered care
lessly over to his tent. I "edged
around" by talking of the weather, the
trail, and so on, and at last I said:
"We'd leave you tonight if it weren'l
for the blue colt. He delays us."
"How so?"
"O, he pitches."
"Pitches, does he?" He smiled.
"I'd mighty soon take that out of him
if I had him. " '
"I suppose an experienced manlike
you could do it, but we are unused to
these wild horses. I'd like to sell him
to some man who knows about such
animals. He's a fine pony, strong aa
a lion, but he's a terrible bucker. 1
never saw his equal."
He smiled again indulgently. "Let's
take a look at him. ,
The pony had filled his hay basket
and looked as innocent as a worsted
kitten.
"Nice little feller, shore thing,"
said the Missourian, as he patted the
Eat. "He's young and coltish.
What'll you take for him?"
"Now, see here, stranger. I am a
fair man. I don't want to deceive any
one. That pony is a wonder. He
can outbuck any horse west of Sel
kirk range."
The old man's eyes were very ag
gravating. "He needs an old hand,
that's all. Why, I could shoulder the
little kid whilst he was a-pitchin' hia
blamedest. What'll you take for him?"
"I'd throw off $5, and you take the
rope; but, stranger, he's the worst "
He refused to listen. ' He took the
pony. As the Eat followed him off he
looked so small, so sleepy, so round
and gentle you would have said,
"There goes a man with a pony for
his little girls."
We laid off a day at Tchincut lake.
We needed rest anyway, and it was
safer to let the man from Butte go on.
I had made every provision against
complaint on the Missourian's part,
but at the same time one can't be too
careful.
There are no returning footsteps on
the long trail, but a few days later I
overtook the man from Indiana, who
had been see-sawing back and forth on
the trail, now ahead, now behind. He
had laid off a half day.
He approached me with a aurious
look ou his face.
"Stranger, what kind of a beast did
you put off on that feller from
Butte V"
"A mighty strong, capable little
horse. Why?"
"Well, say, I was just a-passiug hia
camp yesterday morning, when 'the
thing took place. I always was lucky
about such."
"What happened?" queried I.
"I don't wish any man's barn to
burn, strangers, nor his horse to take
a fall outeu him, but when anything
does go on I like to see it. You see,
he had just drawod thelastknot on the
pack and as I came up he said: 'How's
this for a $10 pony?' I said, 'Pretty
good. Who'd you get him off of?'
" 'A couple of tenderfeet,' he saj-s,
'who couldn't handle him. Why.he'a
gentle as a dog; then he slaps the
pony on. the side. The little fiend lit
out both hind feet and took the old
man on both knees and knocked him
down over a pack-saddle into the mud.
Then he turned loose, that pony did,
stranger. I have saw horses buck a
plenty, Mexican bronks, wild cayuses
in Montana, and all kinds o' beasts in
California, but I never seen the beats
of that blue pony. He shore was a
bucker from Battle Creek. The Butte
man lay there a groanin',his two knees
in his fists, whilst a trail of flour an'
beans an' sacks an' rubber boots led
up the hill, an' at the far end of that
trail 'bout thirty vards up the blamed
cayuse was a-feedin' like a April
lamb."
"What happened to him?"
"Who?"
"The pony."
"Old Butte, as soon as he could
crawl a little, he says: 'Gimme my
gun, I've been a-packin' on the trails
of the Eocky mountains for forty years
and I never was done up before.
Gimme that gun.' He sighted her,
stranger, most vicious, and pulled
trigger. Thopouy gave one big jump
aud went a-rollin' aud a-crashin' into
the gulch. "You'll never kick again,1
says the feller from Butte."
Poor little Blue Eat. He had gone
to the mystic meadows where no pack
saddle could follow him. Detroit
Freo Press.
Wealth From Fish.
The development of the Irish mack
erel fisher has proved a boon to the
fisher folk of Cork aud Kerry. Forty
thousand barrels were cured last year,
almost au of which came to America.
This industry puts 8500,000 a year
into circulation uruoni; the peupl cf
these two counties.
WEIRD BATTLE SCENES.
FAMOUS WAR CORRESPONDENT'S
RECOLLECTIONS OF CUASINA.
Ml the Men He Suvr Shot Went Down
In a I-uuip The ''Chug" of the Bullets
They Don't "Shriek" or "Sinn" 11 uck
iest Songs Human Beings Kver Hang.
Edward Marshall, the New York
Journal's correspondent who was
wounded at Guasina, has written his
"Eeoollections" for Scribuer's Maga
zine from which the following ex
extracts are made:
"I saw many men shot. Everyone
went down in a lump, without cries,
without jumping up in the air, with
out throwing up hands. They just
went down like clods in the grass.
It seemed to me that the terrible thud
with which they struck the earth was
more penetrating than the sound of
guns. Some were only wounded,
some were dead.
"There is much that is awe-inspiring
about the death of soldiers on the
battlefield. Almost all of us .have
seen men aud women die, but they
have died in their carefully arranged
beds with doctors daintily hoarding
the flickering spark; with loved ones
clustering about. But death from
disease is less awful than death ' from
bullets. On the battlefield there are
no delicate scientific problems of
strange microbes to be solved. There
is no petting, no coddling nothing,
nothing, nothing but death. The
man lives, he is strong, he is vital,
every muscle in him is at its fullest
tension when, suddenly, 'chug!' he js
dead. That 'chug' of the bullets
striking flesh is nearly always plainly
audible. But the bullets which are
billeted, so far as I know, do not
sing on their way. They go silently,
grimly to their mark, and the man is
lacerated or torn or dead. I did not
hear the bullet shriek that killed
Hamilton Fish; I did not hear the
bullets shriek which struck the many
others who were wounded while I was
near them; I did not hear the bullet
shriek which struck me.
"There is one incident of the day
which shines out in my memory
above all the others now as I lie in a
New York hospital writing. It oc
curred at the field hospital. About a
dozen of us were lying there. A con
tinuous chorus of moans rose through
the tree branches overhead. The sur
geons, with hands and bared arms
dripping, and clothes literally satur
ated, with blood, were straining every
nerve to prepare the wounded for the
journey down to Siboney. Behind
me lay" Captain McClintock with his
lower leg bones literally ground to
powder. He bore his pain as gallant
ly as he had led his men, aud that is
saying much. I think Major Brodie
was alBo there. It was a doleful group.
Amputation and death stared its mem
bers in their gloomy faces.
"Suddenly a voice started softly :
My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee Isiuy.
"Other voices took it up:
Land where my fathers died.
Land of the Pilgrims' pride.
"The quivering, quavering chorus,
punctuated by groans, and made spas
modic by pain, trembled up from the
little group of wounded Americans in
the midst of the Cuban solitude the
pluckiest, most heartfelt song that
human beings ever sang.
"There was one voice that did not
quite keep up with the others. It
was so weak that I did not hear it un
til all the rest had finished the line:
Let Freedom rinir.
"Then halting, struggling, faint, it
repeated slowly:
Land of tho Pilgrims' pride,
Let Freedom-
"The last word was a woeful cry.
One more son had died as died the
fathers."
Snn Yat Sen Turns Insurgent.
Sun Yat Sen, one of the leaders in
the rebellion in China, is quite well
known, not only in this country, but
also in many of the countries of Eu
rope. He has always been known in
China as a dangerous rebel leader, and
a price has been set ou his head for
some time. In fact, his visit to this
country was due to the fact that he
was being hunted by the authorities
in his native laud.
He was in San Francisco for some
time before any one found it out, and
before he left he managed to organize
several societies which, while seem
ingly peaceful in object, were in reality
hotbeds of rebellion. Sun Yat Sen
was described as a cultured, pleasant
man of 11111181111 ability and education,
and his pleasing manners and polite
conversation won for him many friends
not only among the Chinese residents
of that city but also among the Ameri
cans. He manifested great interest
in the mission work among the Chi
nese, and it was in that way that he
succeeded in winning so many of them
over to his side in his schemes for the
overthrow of the present dynasty.
His adventures in England and his
arrest there are matters of history.
It is the general opinion among thoso
familiar with conditions in China that
Sun Yat Sen will prove a strong
leader, and that a rebellion under him
is likely to amount to more than if it
were under an ordinary uan. PLili-
i iloii'hi.i Prc.!,
ONE OF THE UNKNOWN DEAD.
Pathetic Incident Which Attended the
Death of a Soldier at Montauk.
He is one of the unknown dead. A
plain wooden cross marks the grava
where he lies by his comrades on the
hillside overlooking the lake at Camp
Wikoff, Montauk. There was none
beside him at the last to whom he was
anything more than a dying soldier,
yet he died with the smile of a hope
realized when hope was all but gone.
From the time he was brought in
there was no hope for him. The
deadly poison that oozea from the
Cuban soil had permeated his system.
They call it pernicious malarial fever.
It doesn't matter much what they call
a hopeless disease. The soldier alter
nated between unconsciousness and de
lirium, and all efforts to find out who he
was were unavailing. His one glim
mering of reason was when he called
in plaintive iteration for hia mother.'
"Mother I mother 1 Isn't she com
ing at all ?"
Across from him was another sol
dier suffering from malarial fever in a
lighter form. His mother had come
on from the West, and had found him
already on the road to recovery. She
sat ou the edge of his cot holding hia
hand and talking in low, happy tones.
When the surgeon came along on his
rounds she rose and half turned. The
unknown soldier turned on his side
and saw her, standing there. For a
moment there could be seen in hia
eyes the struggle of returning con
sciousness; then a great peace shone
on the wasted face.
' 'Mother, " he said weakly. 'You've
come at last."
The woman turned and saw a
stranger feebly holding out his arms
to her. She stood amazed, but it waa
only a moment before the mother heart
comprehended.-
"Yes, dear boy," she said softly.
"I've come."
"Lift me up," he said. "I want to
go home. You've come to take me
home, haven't you, mother ?"
She stooped over and kissed him,
then sat on the edge of the cot and
took the emaciated form in her arms.
He leaned back, his eyes closed, and
he smiled. But s6on he opened hia
eyes again.
"I don't believe I can go," he
whispered. "Don't yon mind, mother,
but I don't believe I can
go." His breathing grew slower and
softer. His head dropped back, aud
he half turned in the woman's arms.
"I've longed for you so mother," he
said, and died.
The woman laid the body down and
went back to her own son. New York
Sun.
A Curious Relic From Ireland.
The Ontario Archaeological museum
at Ottawa, Canada, is in receipt of a
curious survival from prehistoric
times, in the shape of a good sized
lump of "bog butter." In Ireland, in
the very old times, the art of making
butter was known, but the preserva
tive effects of salt were as yet undis
covered. Nevertheless, the people of
that age possessed some means of
preserving it, burial in a bog being a
part of the process. Firkins of it
were frequently left there for safe
keeping, and from time to time these
relitfs of prehistoric housekeeping are
unarthed. Mr. Lefroy of Toronto,
who. is now in Ireland, is the donor
of the good-sized piece of the cheesy
looking stuff to the museum. He
writes:
"I have just sent a piece of bog
butter' to you. I don't know whether
it is a thing of sufficient antiquity and
rarity, but as the Dublin museum haa
a keg in a prominent position, per
haps you may consider it worthy of
admission to a place in your museum.
The keg of which this is a portion, waa
dug up recently in a bog near Duu
lavin, county 'Kildare. The staves
are said to have Been around it, but
to have fallen off on removal. It lay
in a peasant's garden, aud the doga
fed on it for a time."
Mr. Lefroy has also secured an
"Ogham stone," and it will come over
iu due time. An Ogham stone is a
stone which is occasionally found in
Ireland, inscribed with the "Ogham"
alphabet, which was current in Ire
land prior to the ninth century. The
Ogham alphabet is of the runic variety,
the characters being straight lines,
generally upright and parallel. New
York Sun.
A I)rled-Cp Lake.
Tulare lake, iu Tulare county, once
the largest body of fresh water iu
California, is now dried up. About
1872 the lake was about 80 miles long
aud iJ5 miles wide at the greatest
width,, but its depth was never great.
Irrigation was introduced into this
region in 1872-75, and as the water
was drawn off from its tributaries the
lake began toshriuk in size. In 1895
the lake was only four to five miles
wide; and though it remained station
ary in its dimensions for some time,
lack of rainfall and increased demands
for irrigation upon its former tribu
taries have finally prevailed, and Luke
Tulare has dried up. Farmers are
now reclaiming the land and putting
it into shape for cultivation, and
channels are being made aud gates put
in to control the waters that a rainy
season limy send into the .! 1 l.iLo
basin. Ei: ;;inc riv. Ncwj.
SCIENTIFIC SCRAPS.
The only two animals whose brainff
are heavier than that of a man are tho.
whale and the elephant.
The female braia commences to de
cline in weight after the age of thirty
the male not ten years later.
Hydrogen is the lightest substance
known, but coronium is supposed to
be lighter, and consequently would
prove even more difficult to liquefy. .
The horse, when grazing, is guided
entirely by the nostrils in the choico
of proper food, and blind horses aro
never known to make mistakes in their
diet.
Mercury is a foe to life. Those who
make mirrors, barometers or thermom
eters, who etch or color wood or felt,
will soon feel the effect of the nitrata
of mercury in teeth, gum's and tha
tissues of the body. ;
The fecundity of microbes is pro
digious, so much so that if fifteen
drops of water polluted with bacteria
are allowed to fall into a cup of broth.1
the germ population would have in
creased in twenty-four hours to 80,
000,000.
Inj udiclous Use of Disinfectants
It is a foible of human nature to
pass from extreme to extreme. Peo
ple are slow to accept a new theory,
but, having once adopted it, they are
ready to work it to death. How many',
years it is since medical officers hd'.
to implore the folk in their districts
to use disinfectants," and encountered
the most senseless opposition in thebrj
crusade? Now they are finding a new
difficulty. People have r.ecQsmued
the value of disinfectants and deaTOt-J
izers, and they employ them by yi
bucketful without rhyme or reason.,
trusting blindly to their efficacy, on
the principle that one cannot haVel'
too much of a good thing. So we find
the Clerkenwell medical officer. wam
ing the public against this injudicious
use, and declaring that "it hasj been
found that disinfectants are used ia
haphazard and indiscriminate manner
by the public. Not only are
they absolutely valueless in many
cases, but, by creating a false irii
pression of security, they do an im
mense amount of harm.' In. other
words, people imagine that cleanliness
may be ignored provided only that
they empty unlimited carbolic waslies
and powders over the unclean places.
That is a dire superstition, born main
ly of laziness and aversion to soap and
water. The latter are just as neces
sary as they ever were. London.
Telegraph.
It ow Insects Breathe.
A naturalist, describing the curious
arrangement for breathing furnished
insects, says: "If we take any moder
ately large insect, say wasp or hornet,
we can see, even with the naked eye,
that a series of small, spot-like marks
run along either side of the body.
These apparent spots, which are
generally eighteen or twenty in num
ber, are, in fact, the apertures through
which air is admitted into the system,'
and are generally formed in such a
manner that no extraneous matter can
by any possibility find entrance.
Sometimes they are furnished with a
pair of horny lips, which can be
opened and closed at the will of the
insect ; in other cases they are densely
fringed with stiff interlacing bristles,
forming a filter, which allows air, and
air alone, to pass. But the apparatus,
of whatever character it may be, is
always so wonderfully perfect in its
action, that it has been fouud impos
sible to inject the body of a dead in
sect with even so subtle a medium as
spirits of wine, although the subject
was first immersed in the rluid and
and then placed beneath the receiver
of an air pump.
Meat Kept Torty-Four Year.
In a recent display of canned nieat3
in thi3.city a case of mutton was ex
hibited which, it is claimed, holds the
record for longevity. Forty-four years
have elapsed since it was placed iu
the tins, and the can which was opened
showed the meat to still be iu good
condition.
Wheu the good ship Fury waa
wrecked in 1854 the canned mutton,
with other stores, was cast ashore at
Prince's Inlet, in the far north. Sir
John Boss, the Arctic explorer, found
them some eight years later, and helped
himself to a number of cans. The re
mainder rested there for twenty-four
years, when the ship Investigator ap
peared and brought them home. For
nearly a quarter of a century the meat
had withstood a climate where the
variations of temperature range from
ninety degrees below zero to eighty
above, being alternately frozen and
broiled. It is still preserved as an
object lesson of perfection in canning.
Philadelphia Becord.
Mountain Sickness Caused by Fatigue.
The Swiss Alpine club stated" thf:t,
according to the persoual experience
of the members and many accounts of
high-mountain climbing in other
countries, "mountain nickness" is due
to extraordinary physical exertion
under very unusual conditions, rather
than to rarefied air. The unanimous
opinion of the climbers ia tlit;.'. '.r
exonrsiona are bene rial to t ir
henlth. From "The Jungfrau I:. :A
way," bvl'ldfur Tk. Dawsun, ?I. F.,,i