is : fi
_.. .
3
ESTABLISHED 1800
Volume LXXXVIII.
O WALK
An Enterprising Republican, J qualrespecially devotedto’ Local News and Interests.
NORWALK, CONN, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 19, 1888.
h
9 .
. _
TWO DOLLARS A YEAR '
J N umber 5].
GEO-WARD smnnmcx.
nssnsnsnoolrs BLOCK, WALL smear,
FAMILY GROCERIES,
amnion-s i
G. a. mama-row,
n , . D. C.
'0 "A“ m ”7:;- ' tulle iu'Inleuinis Mailed lice
FAT ENT OFFIC .
R. B. URAUFURDa
Investment, Real Estate and Insurance,
ROOM 2, MASONIC BUILDING.
Wm. Lockwood,
lies! Estate, Insurance and Investment
Securities.
3‘0an '1‘0 LOAN.
Insurance Placed In First-Class Companies
union—Cor. MAIN .v WALL s'rs.. sonwam
i y 13
.I. BELDEN IlUliidiU'l‘i‘.
ittnrner anil tennselnr at Law,
Room No. 4'. up Stairs,
lihZE'I‘TE BUILDING, NORWALK, CONN.
ALEX. S. GI BSON,
Organist of 1st Congregational Church. Waterbury,
Teacher of
Pianofor 0,; Organ and Musical
Composition,
Lock llox 39 P 0., NORWALK, CONN.
ill. L. Byiiigton.
Pensinn inn Patent ittnrnen,
No. 241 EIGHTH STREET, N. E,
WASHINGTON, D. C. ”It?
‘1‘ A lesllRA it‘ll 9., or HARTFORD.
AL Incorporated 1812. Charter Perpetual.
CAPITAL AND ASSETS, $8,902,272.0H.
insures against loss and damage b Fire. on
erms adopted to the hazard and ‘cons stent with
he laws of compensation. COWLES & MERRILL,
Sole Agents for N orwalk and Vicinity.
TIIE
Norwalk Fire Insurance Co.
Has now completed its
18th SUCCESSFUL BUSINESS YEAR
And has not ontstandiugadollar of unpaid losses
or claim for losses. No sound company “ism-es
or less. .
(V. C. S‘I'Ill'l', Pres.. Giro. B. Sr. Jouu.'l‘reas.,
030. R. Cowms. Secretary.
IE‘xpress.
Patrouize the old reliable
ADAMS EXPRESS COMPANY.
Low RATES AND PROMPT DEr.ivEnv.
Branch Onice, Norwalk. at S. if. Stanley‘s
. t be or South Norwaik. me
“am Onicea p ' l.. iluNr, Agent.
u“. A. rrtivliiz,
THE HAIRGUTTER,
No. I Gazette Building.
nor AND corn earns.
PE N 810 NS —
And GOVERNMENT CLAIMS my sole busi-
ness. Bejectedaiid increase claimsaspeciulity.
imn’t delay. Address or visit
GEN. Whiz-NOBLE; --
No. 91 Srnarronn Ava , Bruno I'Olt’i‘, C'r
; HENRY “088,.
Restaurant, Cafe annSneiinu RIIIIIII,
Grand Central Station,
4 STREET AND 4m AVENUE, New YORK
Entrance from waiting room, New York, New
Haven and Hartford railroad. rise
0. E. WILSON,
ll encral Insurance t Ileal Estate Agent
Money to Loan.
locks, Bonds, &c., Bought and Sold
and Loans Negotiated at Lowest
Rates of Interest. .
KOO-\l NO. 3, GAZETTE BUILDING
Norman. CONN.
W. 11. M’EEKEII.
Piumhine, Steam and liar Fittinn,
SOUTii NORWALK, CONN.
‘ unitary Plumbing, and Ventilation, and
an: Pressure Steam Heating, a Specialty.
PLUMBERS‘ SUPPLIES.
Pipe and Fitting for Steam and (ins.
Agent for the Florida Low Pressure Boiler.
Facilities for Cutting and Threading all Sizes of
rpe. 50tf
Goo. H. Raymond.
Furniture Dealer.
AT THE OLD STAND,
36 MAIN STREET.
A Large Stock of'ai‘. kinds of Furniture Cheap
for'Cash. Also
FURNISHINB' UNDERTAKER.
i am prepared to take charge day or night and
urnish everything necessary for the internent of
as dead. Telephone Connection with residence
No. 3 Berkie y l'lai-e. Iy5
F. W. JAQUI. JR,
DEALER IN
Stereslnrtiz. in. in lines
' I‘d‘iifhsees and! Steam Heaters,
‘Tiu, Slicct Iron, Copper, Wooden, Glass
and Crockery Wurc.
l'i.
Refrigerators and House Furnishing Goods.
Generally. A Full line of
Disruptions CARRIAGES.
Plumbing. Gas and Steam Fitting, and Hot Air
Engineering. Agent for the Richardson
.iz Boynton (Jo’s.
Furnaces and Ranges,
A lso agent for the Economy
iau & WARM Ara Communion Hanan
kinds of Ornamental and Plain Slateing, Tin '
Shingle itooiing.
drpairiru Done by Experienced “primer:
short Notice.
5'3 WALL S TREE i".
“03“ ALK, CONN
BUY YOUR
EURNIE ‘
{I'- B .ELLS
Opposite Horse Railway Depot. A good he now
- in stock or
Parlor, Chamher. "Dining and Kitchen
‘ FURNITURE
thou extra expense
Delivered at
any hcudWay; at a favorable moment a
_was wrapped in a rich fur, beneath which
>would remain a lay brother or he landed
" 'bécifus’e‘he could cenfide in no one.
TH E FIRST LOVE AND THE LAST.
Reign-hot ‘Twas years ago; yet by my chair
To-night there stands a maid surpassing faith.
The «if same maid, with waving nut brown hair,
Who not my boyish breast, my heart laid bare,
And stamped u never dying impress there—-
Sweet maid, she‘s there.
Heightho! 0h, life! With all your toil and care;
With all your hopes, your trials hard to bear.
Days of bright triumphs, nights of grim despair,
Your somber shades, your uoontimc‘s brazen
8
I do not. forget all now, for she is there—
Sweet maid, she’s there.
Heigh-hol No, no; "tis but a. vision there,
The maid has gone, but now a woman rare
Stands in her place. There‘s silver in her hair,
And on her loving face are lines of care,
Yet sweeter far to-night than maiden fair
Is this dear one who smiles beside my chair——
My wife—my wife!
—Chicngo Times.
This Dnunlnrnr. BOY.
I.
That night, Dec. 25, 1788, the weather was
abominable. It rained in tor-rents, the wind
blew furiously, hissing as though in anger,
breaking branches from the trees which fell
with sharp cracklings that seemed almost
like cries of pain. It was about 1 o'clock in
the morning. A carriage was rolling along
tho road leading from the little village of
Croix Douradc, some two or three miles from
Toulouse, to the Palificnt castle; the wind and
the rain prevented the horses from making
powerful gust extinguished the lights in the
lanterns.
“Stop, J can I” cried a voice.
J can, the coacbman, obeyed; he got down
from his seat, held the bridle of the terrified
horses, talking to them familiarly to prevent
them from running away.
“Do you not see any light, Jenn?" asked
the sumo voice.
“Yes,” replied the servant; “near by, at
Mnrgaridetto‘s, but the house is very mean
and Marguerite is very poor."
"What matters it?” said the man who was
speaking in the carriage, “we would be bet-
ter off anywhere than in the midst of this
tempest, with a wind strong enough to blow
the horns off an ox.”
At the some moment the door of the car‘-
r'iago opened and a tall man stepped down
with a burden in his arms. The man went
to the house pointed out by the coachman,
from which light was seen streaming through
the rabbets of the badly joined door; he
knocked, and in a few minutes a. young man,
or rather a youth of 13 or 14 years, opened
the door.
“You, marquis, here, at our house!” cried
the astonished lad.
“Yes,” said the other, laying on a wretched
straw chair his precious burden—a young
girl apparently of the same age as the lad
who had opened the door. The two young
people were of the same age, but what a dif-
ference, there was between them! The girl
could be seenagown of garnet satin; her
pretty blondo head, with its two great black
eyes, was hidden under a large loco necker-
chief. The young man, wan, thin, emaci-
ated, had a timid and unhappy look which
was painful to see. The dwelling into which
the marquis and his daughter had just made
their way was wretched, cold and bare; a
chest of drawers, an old cuckoo clock which
ticked slowly in the middle of the room,
and an old table constituted the entire
furnishing of the but, the floor of which
was the bare ground. At the back,
in an alcove on a mean bed, lay a
sick woman, the Margaridetto, as she was
called in the place. A candlestick of three
branches lighted with its flickering and
smoky flames this miserable home. The mar-
quis threw a surprised glance over this misery
which surrounded him; the young man, per-
ceiving this astonishment, anticipated the
gentleman’s thought:
“Oh! it is not at all fine here, but, you
know, mother is - a widow, and it is now two
years since she was taken ill, and as for my-
self, I hardly earn enough tending flocks to
keep her from starving.” ’
The young girl began to shiver from the
cold. The lad threw into the fireplace a
fagot of twigs, which blazed up with achcer-
ful crackle, throwing into the room a. great,
dancing light. This sudden flash awoke the
woman who was sleeping on the bed, and
whose wan, emaciated face looked like that
of a corpse. The young man ran elm to
his mother’s bed, and notified the sick
woman of the visit with which they were
honored. She seemed greatly astonished by
the news.
“Yes, my poor Marguerite, we were sur-
prised by the storm as we were returning
from the midnight mass. and we have come
to your house for shelter."
The poor woman had only the strength to
make a sign with her head, proud of the
chance which, happily for her, brought her
noble master into her lowly dwelling. The
young girl continued warming herself be-
fore the fire on the hearth. 1
“What do you call yourself?” asked the
nobleman of the young man.
“Francois,” replied the other.
“And you are a shepherd?"
“Yes, monseigneur; in your sheepfolds.” D
“How much do you earn?”
“That varies. Three sous a day in good
weather; sometimes less in bad.”
“Is that all?”
“We live on that, my mother and I, or,
rather, we do not entirely pine away."
“Poor thing,” said the young girl, involun-
tarily.
There was so much kindlinoss in this voice
that the young Francois was deeply moved
by it; h ed his 1001s.:on the noble young
lady an , - coined by those instinc-
-vements of sympa-
- at first sight for
those th q foundly loved. The
tempest 2 ,i 5 storm was over; the
galewas - . _ y-dthEu-e was hardlymore
than n ‘- ' (I ligbtf rain falling. The
marquis ‘ . "his whobfnh‘mfwho brought
the w 1“)!th tho dborstep; tho
lanterns " " "and the nobleman
J eating, pedgerss‘lfrnpwgain in her fur
mantle " _ brit'before leav-
ing the . _- detto's -. f gshe laid
in Francdii: m -d a gold "”iiif‘th‘o first that
had ever shdii'é in that miserable house.
On the morrow and several‘ days follow-
ing, Jeanne do Sicard, daughter of tho Lord
of Palificat, returned to visit the poor sick
woman. and thenoeforward looked out to see
that nothingin the way of remedies or care
should be wanting lathe house of tho poor
widow. But Merits, exhausted by ill-
ness, suffering!” .. pi‘iv'ations', could not livo
long, andin a)” .. i_{uften’nhe diedin tho
armaof her son, Frhiicois :hnd vowed to
Jeanne nnctemalgrutitude. Thanks to the
charity of the youngfgirhihis mother, when
she died, was no longer fifths gloomy misery
which had killed her; but vvas surrounded by
all the comforts of a family in easy circum-
stances. 'On her side, Jeanne, touched by the
young shepherd’s gentle and honest manner,
was unwilling to leave him unprovided fci‘.
and she persuaded he: father to secure for
him a position as a lay brother in the coth
of the Jacobins at Toulouse; it was the but
opportunity a young peasant could then have;
educated and trained in the convent, he
preacher, according to his disposition and
his intelligence.
'In the course of the winter of 1789, which
folldwed the mitrance of Francois into the
convent, Jeanne do Sicnrd came to live at
Toulouse. She attended high mass every
Sunday in the chapel of the Dominican con-
vent, where a throng assembled to hear the
preachers, who were famous through all the
province, and to see the services, which were
celebrated with a pomp unknown in any
other of [the mun ous convents of ,I the city.
Francois fulfilled 11 these" ceremonies the
tasks of an acolyte, or censor: bean-er, carry-
ing the great silver candlestick 'or swinging
the censor, the'smokc from‘which flooded the
chapel with that clinging 'odor peculiar to
‘cnsternperfumes. _ Often, also, he accompa
tried the. mouk'cbarged‘with' the duty of mak-
ing acollectlon fronifiuhong the worshipers.
Phasing before ‘Jeann'éj' do Sicard, the young
brother could ’not: picve is himself from rais-
ing his eyes to his hen ' actress; she made a
signtdbim; unseen byfull others, but which
did not escape the young man. Through all
the'winter'thisj 'fitlo' maneuver was repeated
every Sunday}? ' on spring returned.
Jeanne went back’flo i‘ castle of Palificat,
t was useless for the
, . .and repose before the
pew thptgshe'hsd St'Omnrily occupied, he
did notseoher, agctn’; incon'scqucnce be ex-
;‘peflencéln‘r‘enuine grief, all the more acute
About this time, the month of February,
1790, came on, and wit-h it the decree of the
constituent assembly, which set aside the cc.
clesinstic vows and threw wide open the con-
vent doors. Many monks, held by for-co in
their monasteries, hastened to profit from
the liberty that the revolution ofiered them,
they shook oil their obligations, shaved their
beards and parted with their gowns and
mantles to enter into civil life. Francois,
who was about to be received asu novice,
having reached his 16th year, and not
feeling “BEST: imlinatiosfortpepmsfl '
rife, also ieft‘tfie convent, aim feminism—ell
free one fine day in March, on the streets 6f
Toulouse, and with only the few francs that
they had given as indemnity to each monk
or novice who had thrown to the dogs his
frock and white or brown cassock.
III.
But what should he do now, without -rela~
tious, acquaintances, friends or any- one to
assist or to protect him? Then thethonghi
came to him to go and find his benefactress,
Jeanne do Sicard, at the Palificat castle; but
he did not dare to go. How would she judgd
his resolution? What greeting would she
offer to One who had shown so little eager-
mess to retain the unimportant situation that
she had procured for him? He turned over
in his mind several projects upon which he
tried to decide, when, as he stood on the cor-
ner of the Rue du Tour and the Place Royals
he read a bill stuck up there, calling for'
young men to serve as drummers in the Na.
tional guard, then forming.
At that time tho drummers were not, as
they are today, attached to particular com-
panies, but were young fellows of 13 to 18
years, who galloped in advance of tho regi-
ments, beating the marches. Francois went
to the mayor’s ofilce, where he was enrolled
forthwith, dressed and equipped, and on the
same evening they delivered to him his drum
and two drumsticks.
Ho was now a handsome, stout, strapping
youth, with an open and frank face, eyes
that were like flames, so bright they shond
under heavy black eyebrows, and a fine mus
tacho surrounding his upper lip. On seeing
him as ho plied his sticks, the throng cried
out spontaneously, “Oh! the handsome drum-
mer!”
When the National guard dcfiied» before
Ihe Bonlingrin, a public drive and place of
assembly, Francois saw on the gallery that
had been built for spectators, beside her
father, Jeanne de Sicard, and her face was a
deep purple. She had recognized him, but
Francois had not the time to weigh the efleci
that his transformation produced on her, be-
cause the regiment marched at a. quick rate,
and it was hot much more than a vision, but
one of the visions that one loves to recall,
and that one remembers forever with a
delight. For a week Francois thought 0
nothing else; he dreamed of it at night, and
when he beat a march it seemed to him that
his beautiful protector would soon be found
again at the corner of a. street or square,
seeing him pass and crying out, as he had
heard so many others cry:
“Oh! the lirudsomo drummer!”
But he (I... not see her again, and it was
useless for hi..i to look, useless for him to ex-
pand his form and hold up his bad, making
his plume wave; is was all over; never again
was Jeanne do Sicard to be seen when the
National guard went by, '
Three more years rolled on. There was a
frightful rapidity in the course of events.
The old order rt' things no longer existed;
the republic had replaced royalty, and Louis
XVI's head had fallen under the knife of
the guillotine. A host of the nobles had emi‘
grated, leaving France to lead back her ene-
mies against her. Francois had grown and
had become a soldier. Sent to the Rhine, he
had rapidly won there the insignia of sets,
gcant, second lieutenant and captain, in very
common accomplishment at that time, when
our victorious armies were commanded by
beardloss colonels and generals 20 years old.
One day, Capt. Francois, being at the head
of a reconnoitering detachment, met an
Austrian convoy. He ordered-an attack on
the little column and hls‘bravo soldiers soon
put to flight the white jackets, who left their
chief wounded on the ground. Great was
Francois’ astonishment when, on going
nearer, he recognized in the Austrfin leader
the Marquis of Sioux-d, his former master.
The marquis, like so many others, induced to
emigrate, was found bearing arms against
French soldiers. Francois, exercising his
right, made the marquis aprisoner on parole,
then, instead of bringing him back to the
camp, left him on a farm near by, where
every care was bestowed on him; When the
marquis was recovered, Francois, thanks to
the relations that he held with the head of
the army, obtained a pardon for his benefac-
tor, who wns thus enabled to return to
Toulouse, where his confiscawd property,
which had not been sold, was restored to
him as a special favor. Reinstated in his
castle, the marquis had his daughter return
from Turin, where he had left her. Taking
ndvantagq of ,a leave .of absence,.ancola
came’ to pass three months at Croix-Duuradc,
where, as may readily be, believed, he was re-
ceived with open arms by the marquis.
“Thank the captam,” said the marquis to
his daughter; “it is to him that you are in-’
debted for still having a father; and I owe
him, besides my fortune, this happiness,
more precious still, of being'able to embrace
you.” '
What more shall I add?
What should happen happened. Jeanne
and Francois loved each other, and told each
other so. The marquis consented to their
marriage, which'was celebrated with great
pomp in tho church at Croix-Danrade, and
the story goes on—iis in the fairy tales-tic
say that they had many children—Trans-
lated for Boston Transcript from the French
of J can Bernard.
A—DOG’S DEVOTION.
The Duke’s Only Companion In Prison
and Mom-nor at His Death.
The Bus d’Enghien had a spaniel which
passionately lamented over his death, and we
wonder if Napoleon suffered any qualms of
remorse when he read of it fiercely bemoan-
ing its master's untimely fate in the moat
of Vincennes. At the first halt the Due
‘d’Enghien’s alldnctors > made,.their prisoner
requested them. to send back to Ettsnheim
for his “dog and his clothes.” He did well
to ask for his dog, for air Strasb‘urg Napoleon
had ordered that his friends and servants
were to leave him. His dog, however, since
it lacked “the divine power to speak words,”
was not included in the order. In the
brief days of life which remained to him,
this speechless friend was his only com-
panion, went with him a prisoner to Paris,
and entered Vincenues at his heels. On his
arrival there he was depressed, and his dog
sided up to him, and Lamartine says: "The
spaniel which he had kept by his side the
whole route rested his head on his master's
knee.” The dog beguiled him out of dark
thoughts of his doleful prospects, his spirits
rose and he left the window, out of which he
had been disconsolately staring, and called
his dogto share his supper with him. The
faithful creature was on guard beside him
when one midnight he was aroused from his
sleep to appear before his judge. The duke.
sure of his innocence, went to. the mockery of
a trial with sanguine hopes __of napeedy re
lease. He did not know that during his trial
his grave was being dug. After leaving the
judgment hall the prisoner, still unsuspicions
of the haste to fulfill the sentence from which
he expected a pardon, was talking to 'Lieut.
Noiret, a soldier who had known his grand-
father, the prince of Condo. A'historiau
says “he played with his dog” while chat.
ting gayly to the soldier. The poor
beast had been ill at ease, for some
subtle, instinct warned it that there.
was danger afoot. It's dullest spirits
were raised by its master’s assurance; but
it was short lived contentment, for the‘
duke and his dumb friend were seen parted
by death. The prisoner was ordered to fol-
low the commander down a darks‘ome stair-
way, which led into the most. The duke
hesitated, but the dog followed without ques-
tibn'at his master’s heels. ’ The duke, when
he reached the trench, realized the truth. He
cut a lock of his hair, gavejt and a. ring to?
Noiret to send to his betrothed, Princess
Charlotte do Rohan. As 3' o’clock struck the
soldiers fired, and Napoleon’s young victim
tell. The spaniel, in the dim light—for it
was a gloomy March morning, and the most
was lit by a solitary lantern—had not seen its
master’s face, and was unaware of his evil
fate till it saw him dead. In: vain it fawned
upon him who, but a few minutes previously, ;
had stroked and commanded his, pleased.
favorite. It was- with~difiioulty that the
poor animal could be torn from the spot and
given to one of tho prince’s servants, who
took him to the Princess Charlotte—All the
Year Round.
Mr. Blaine In London.
A Philadelphia. business man tells this in-
cident of Mr. Elaine’s visit to London. One
day he happened into the establishment of n
well known bootmaker and asked to see some
shoes. Having selected a pair to his liking,
Mr. Blaine inquired the cost, ut‘tha same
time casually remarking that he mid beanie '
ferred to the house by a friend in Inucashire,
from which district he had himself just run
up to London for a. short time. “But you
are not an Englishman, sir,” said the attend-
ant who was waiting on him. “And why
not?" said Mr. Blaine. “Do I not look like
an Englishman? And did I not say that I
hailed from Lancashire?” “You may have
just came from Lancashlre, and I do not
say that your looks are not. English," an-
swored the salesman, “but an Englishman
would not have asked the ‘cost’ of those shoes.
sir—ho would have asked the ‘price.’ "
Appropriate Treatment.
Employer-rWhy are you so late!
Office Boy—‘Well, boss, I was late Ins" night
'ittgdo ’Sciety meetin'. I'so one ob do big.
grins, you see”-— . .
Employer—All right, I’ll just iii-o you—-
Georgiu'Crncker.
find “titties .. , .
without a’ word; upon the shelf at the open-
THE WARDER?S STORY.
In an old worm eaten chest, the property
of a lodger- - named William Winston, who
died in a London tenement, was found the
MS. of the tale which follows:
I, William Worthington, believing that I
am about to die, pray to heaven for strength
to tell a tale of wrong and suffering. I,
know not the year in which I am living. I
dare not ask. I' only pray for strength to
finish, for my wife and children, if theyfstill
live, the story of. my woes. The shack of '
freedom upon my broken constitution is
proving too great, and I feel that death is
near. I was a warder in the Tower of
London. ,
Every prisoner placed under my surveil-
. lance for twenty years had been tried, judged
‘and sentenced by my inner consciousness,
and as my intuitions led me, so were they
treated, though I never violated a law.
2 By_ this inner tribunal of my own, I judged
that the' Duke of Elton had been a traitor to
his king, and from my hands he received no
favors beyond the requirements of the law.
I little dreamed that so great a personage
would wreak vengeance upon a vasshl so far
below him, yet his hirelings gave, oath,
months after his release, that during a. time.
when the utmost watchfulness had been our
joined upon the warders, I was found asleep.
at my post. During that critical period the
penalty was death.
That very day I had walked far into the
suburbs of London, on leave of absence to
visit my family, and had returned to take my
usual watch from nine at night until nine on
the following morning.
I was weary and travel stained, which told
against me, but as there is n , just God in
heaven, I did not sleep on my post, neither,
that night nor any night during my years of.
service. A warder had once slept and al-
-lowed the escape of political prisoners. He,
was accused of complicity, and the death.
penalty had been instituted.
I could prove nothing. ‘ I had paced the
corridors through the night, but the prison-
ers had slept and could say ‘ nothing to
save me. — ,2
‘ Two men claimed to have passed through
the corridor as the clock struck twelve, and
upon their oaths afinned that I was sleeping.
If'they entered the corridor at all, it was
while. I was at the farther and, and, they -
must have left before my return. In vain I
protested my innocence. The friends of the
Duke of Elton were in favor, and my doom
seemed inevitable. ’
I had been foully dealt with, and during a
short recess I betbought me of foul means for
I had a stench friend in the tower, nfel-T ,
low- warder.' _;I would risk-everything and i
trust to him. The infinite patience and kind-
ness of a mother’s love had taught me to .
write. and I carelessly tgyed with the mate-
rials ut hand, stealthfly writing a word or
two now and then, without detection. At
last it was finished, no whit too soon, for the
opportunity came at once to slip into the
warder’s hand, umeen, this writing:
Haste to the clock, outside the wall. Out, with
asaw, a thirteenth notch, after the twelve, in the
striking wheel. and save the life of
anu Wonmmcrox.
With this paper crumbled in his hand, he
gave his evident» which availed me naught,
save to prove that-I was at my post before
11 o’clock, and that the usual greetings were
exchanged.
As he passed out he gave me o. searching
look, but its meaning I Could not divine. I
could not tell his hearing toward me. If I
were removed my place would become his,
and I' was a little above him. Would be risk
imprisonment for himself to save me?
Midnight alone could answer.
I was asked if I had ought to say, and, as
though under the influence of'u sudden recol-
lection, I said: . -
“These men claim that the clock struck
twelve while I was sleeping. At twelve
o’clock I was awake, in proof of which know
this: The great clock needs repairing, for at
twelve in the night I counted thirteen strokes
of the bell. It will probably do so again to-
night. Wait and see.”
011, the horror of those hours of waiting!
Three! Four-I Five! Six o‘clock, and for
the firsttime in twenty years, save for my
holidays, I was not in my place. Seven!
Eight! Nine! And still the hours dragged
on, wear-fly, when I bethoughtana of the all
absorbing issue, but much too swiftly if that
wooden wheel was untouched. . -
Ten and eleven o’clock struck. Then came
the longest hour of my life. Days and weeks
seemed to pan, and all the actions of my life
in- slow procession trooped before me. . I
longed for midnight, and yet dreaded to
know what fate it held in store for me.
“Boom l”—came the first stroke from the
great bell. With breathless lips I counted
the strokes, at each one pressing a finger into
the palm of my hands so hard that the nails
piercedthe skin. Four fingers had thus closed
on the right hand, and over them the thumb,
rewrding the fifth stroke. Four more on the
left hand, and slowly over them closed the
thumb, like a. band of steel. Eleven! The
hands fiew open and I started forward, lis-
tening, trembling, praying. Twelve! I
could feel the very vibrations of the bell
beating against my temples as the iron
tongue struck the side. Thirteen! Thank
God! He had befriended me in my hour of
need. I fell fainting to the floor, and from
sheer exhaustion slept till daybreak.
I believe thht the judges would have rein-
stated me, could they have been allowed to
usstheir own discretion, but powerful one-
mies were at work against me and the freshly
sawed slot in the striking wheel of the
clock was discovered, and I was again sum
moned for'further triei.’ The guards swore
that no person had access to me ufteexny ar-
rest, and thus left a doubt in their minds.
This doubt caused them to modify the death
sentence to military confinement in the lower
dungeon of the tower. What modification!
Better death than that; better to know
that one swift stroke would end all earthly
sufiering and that revengefui enmity could
never more assail me.
But prisoners had escaped from this very
tower before, and why not again? .;I'won1d
wait and hope and strive: wait for the un-
folding of the future’s mysterious problems,
hope for those almbst miraculous changes
that sometimes shift the power of a sovereign
in the twinkling of an eye; strive, if I could,
but what is the strife of one close kept within
a rock bound cell! 80 in my solitude I sat
for hours, brooding upon my condition.
Then came the desire to know my surround-
ings more intimately. How well I know
each stone, each line and fisuro! ‘
I could pres my hands upon a bed of yield-
ing clay and reproduce the walls of my cell
so accurately that a mold of one would fit
the other so closely a stream of water could
not trickle through between them. Each
stone I hate, save those I moved aside and
broke against each other ,to use as impie
merits of toll.
My cell wasnine feet high, five feet broad
2 fund ten feetrdeep. ‘rwo bars of iron inserted
in the solid rock supported four boards six:
inches wide and two, inches inithickness.
2, which, withugcoarse blanket undo sack of
straw, composed mybed. Alongthe outer
odgeof theplankswasfastened nnotherono,
extending one and a half inches above the
ideal tin-eelsgged- stool and a blunted
"wood.‘to place beneath the sack of strawfor
a pillow, completed the equipment of the-
cell. - ;
Through an opening in the heavy door. I,
conid see- damp walls and heavy doors:
Through this opening, at irregular. intervals,
, was thrust-afloaf'of bread and aging of water
piece of meat would be - left,
ing. Many a time have I raised the jug to
dash it a: sinst the stones and with the rugged
edge save an artery, bnt'each time tho-faint
spark of hope has stayed my hand. During
the first few days, thoughts of the injustice
that had been done to me and the strangeness
of my surroundings gave food for reflection,
What-redid my hands, bours, days, perhaps.
weeks, for I could no longer mmure time.
Then-came the revulsion of feeling, the de-
panionship- I would cry. aloud. shriek. or.
even curse to drive; away the madness that
seemed to haunt thopla'ce, but Illinvai‘n;my
own voice was not the one I longed to; hear,
and back would come that indefinable dread,
that told me Irmiist sav‘e'myself from despair
‘ ‘or reason would doses-tine.
Oh! you- who; :wander forth into the
blessed woodlands and say you cilia" been
alonsz'; yachting , southern, , ‘ ’ ore in an
opénvboat, witlr fitneyes fixed, upon the
skies above you-ands”. you are alone, what
can you know: of .~ such solitude; as mine,
‘ where not even the gnawing of a rut b
the unending silence. Hour after hour I
toyed with the broken pieces of the lantern.
Each one had its name; each to me was a
living thing. with a .'ty.
The little pin that held its door in place, I
would, throw away and then search-for it.
Again and againl would throw it, hoping‘lt
would lodge in some crevice and bring a new
- sensation when I failed to find it.
Wear-led with this, I would count the
hairs of my beard, separating one from an-
other and then beginning over again, or
sunning that the count‘had been incomct.
Onoday my food was thrust through the
finishing?“ me slid. lathe meet a bone of pe-
‘ enlist shapo, not'unlike a laborer'slpick, gave
rise to thoughts Which, for spine strange rea-
son, had never visited me before. I kept it
- 2L “Wilemthnetona began to
and motionless I set upon my bed with'n'i'yi » '
sire to be up and doing, the thirst for corn: j '
org away the whoa on the edge or my cm.
I struck something bard.
Joy! The pinions were of iron. Here was
a hope, here Wis an occupation, here were
the tools to labor With. Oh! how I worked,
and are long he'ldin my hands six spikes four
inches long. Day after day with these ‘I
picked and scraped anddng at the stone wall
of my cell until 1 at last I‘loosened anions,
then another and then another, and then
. came to the moist earth. Again and again I
3 klmtd that soil, calling It by and names,
as a mother, said call-tic , dithat had been
Iwmmmv ."=....‘:.nzmsoz-
stone heave. niyhands, loosened the soil,
filled‘tlie br‘dlenlantem and brought it back
tummy-cell; _ ‘g the corners, atowing it
away under the and spreading it on the
planks where I slept. But my cell would not
hold all the dirt I must move before I could
110115 to make on exit. I must' have a place
for it or all my .lobors would be in vain.
Hopingagninst hope, I began to dig at the
wall opposite the door. The spikes were
almost worn' away before the opening was
made, but my efiforts were not unavailing,
for beyond the will there had been, at some
distant time, font-cells ' like my own. These
had been thrown into one. ‘ The doors had
been walled up pith solid masonry, and it
remained, I slippage, only as a support to the
st cturenbove. L
,n‘to this walled inclosuro I packed away
the earth as fastihs I could loosen it and
bring it back. -. ,_- i
, had proceeded, but twenty or thirty fizet
w n I found a trauma of inestirnablo, value
to me, a broken
at the end and p ,
enough to serve :l m of the worn out
spikes. ‘
The hilt had once been richly jeweled, but
most .of the gems were gone. The few re-
maining .I removed withnpieeo of broken
stone, and,._wrap them in a. fragment of
my clothing, treasured carefully in the fond
hopethnt some day I should see the streets of
Inndon again. With this new isnpiemeni
my , work proceeded more favorably, and
using. my own length as- a' measure, I esti-
mated that I had pushed along 200 feet. .
'1 then began to incline my course upward,
and ere many. days hadpaned I knew by the
quantity of euthjn theme“! that I'mnst be
néaringthe slirfnoe'; j Onward-ad upward I
crept,.‘nnd_ yet no sounds tp‘ilell‘me that I-was ,
nearing my = goalie-I had stowed away all
that I inuld.~ I would now dig straight up ,
and press the waste against the sides of my
tunnel by placing" my back against: one side.
Then came thogthou'ght, “May I not be
water iloo‘d" my cell and bear to them the
unwritten story of. struggles?”
, I knolvMIih ', , beyondthsmoa’t‘and
beyond thé double dull, If I had come out on
- the as. venue-sites it may only hope.
and that‘fi'iiling m6,”death would bewolcorno,
so I pushedeupward, I
How ‘my heart throhs as I recall that
instant; whom-pushing through the turf, I
felt the airpf heaven again blowing across
my face! I had come out into theopenspuce
. diagonally across from the tower gate. ‘The
stars weibsbining in the sky, and . now and
then _a cloud sweptovor the moon as though
to shroudmy escape. . _ , ‘
‘ Grasping what was left of the broken
sword, I climbed up to the level ground. Not
a soul was in sight. Lam and weak as l
was, some strange, new found power in
pelled me onward, and' ,I lied, not knowing,
naught caring whither I was tending. If , I
met any one I do not know it. My blood
. seemed on fire. I was free. Let them take
me back tomorrow if they would. I had
tasted the air of freedom again, and now I
could die. On, on I went until at last nature,
weak, worn and exhausted, loft inc panting
at the door of anion. I recall the keeper’s
burly form and red, good natured face, and
then my senses ~must huge left me, for I
awoke to find myhelf, in thlapbed where I am
writing: I have :aeon only ‘tEo little girl who
brought me" materials 2 tori writing, and I
have sent down the jewels from the sword
hilt to compensate the innkeeper for his care.
I shall see him to-morrow, and then I shall
know if those who love me still live; if those
for whom I have cared will now care for this
broken rmd that the storms of life have
blasted. In the seventh house beyond the
wooden bridge at Home Hill road I left my
wife and children. Shall I see them againi
Shall I ever——
Hero the MS. bread-rs ofl, incomplete, and '
tina scrawling handpprobably that of the
innkeeper, arethese words: .
."‘Written by an old and ragged man, with
long white hair and beard, who diedointhe
kitchen chamber of the Blue Bird inn. We
. have, as duty called, sent to the seventh
house from the wooden bridge, on Home
Hill road. but a happy family lives themin,
who seek nouged, dying man, and know not
who he may bra—James Clarence Harvey in
Pittsburg Bulletin.
FAMOUS KENILWORTH.
Glance at a Castle Whose Glories Have
All Departed.
The feudal glories and regal pomp of Kenib
worth castle have long since passed away;
the ivy climbs the fast decaying walls, within
which princes and barons caroused and
entertained, and where the good "Queen
Bess" made that memorable visit, during
which had not the noble host-Dudley, earl
of Leicester—been already blessed with a
wife in the person of fair Amy Robsart, the
maiden queen would have made him her con-
sort.
The castle, thougb it must be called a min,
is in some parts very well preserved. Cmsar’s
timer, however, is the only remaining vestige
offtho original fortress built by Geoffrey do
whiten-and though the most ancient, is per-
bfips the‘strongest and most perfect part of
the castle now standing. It owes its name to
no particular circumstance, the appellation
of Cases being frequently bestowed on build-
ings raised in the vicinity of Roman an-
tiquities. Of the three kitchens but little re-
mains, though they must have been of im-
mense size. One oven still remains intact,
but all else has crumbled into dust. The ,
great hall, or banqueting room, was built by
John of Gaunt, and is in very fair preserve:
tion.
The Pleasance must not beoverlooked. It
was a favorite walk of Queen Elizabeth’s,
and commands a manifioent view of the lake.
and here, crouching among the shrubs, trees
and flowers which grew in such luxuriant
profusion, the queen found the unhappy Amy .
Robsart. The postern gate by which Amy is
supposed to have gained admission is still to
be, seen, though the Pleasunce itself is now an
orchard. Mortimer’s tower, which is almost
a complete min, was doubtless named after
Mortimer, earl of March, the par-amour of
the wretched “queen" of Edward II, who
,spent his time here in gay r-evelries and
'in plotting treason while his hapless sover-
eign languished in a dungeon. Sun’s tower
was probably built by John of Gaunt, as it
resembles many other edifices which are-
known to have been erected by him in the
Duchy of Inncaster.
Not far from the castle are the ruins of
Kenilworth . Priory, once the domicile of
the Black Canons,'and erected by Geofirey
do Clinton at the same period. as the castle.
During the attack on Kenilworth castle by
Henry III the priory sustained considerable
damage from the lawless and. extortiouate-
demands‘madempon it bytikile,qsoldiers. .It
9pm.however,;to have soon regained its
gosperity, andpossessed considerable power,
'till the dissolution of; monasteries in thorium;
lanai-inn. .wa. -its..Gothic archway!
2 _ grumblinginto dust—the cloisters ca'n‘b'e
distinguished =only 'by a: few moss grown
stones, the old‘ chapel,‘wbi'ch once resouuded
withthcpious ,monlis" melodious voices, is
sikuk'snvo for'tho tinkling of a sheep’s bell
orthocry of, some wild bird, and all .the
wallsarepvcrg’rown with a tangled mass of
' "z—London Cor. San Francisco Chronicle.
A Word In Favor of the Clove. ,
, Shall men gomntbetweendho acts? fl‘his-
V isifho Eéneéfa‘i’nr':Which. tlfeatne goers in New
York are discpssiug through the columns of
t'l‘he'sirn, ‘Thofliislies, object ;_strenuously to
the practice and pitiful stories are told of the
.wreck of bonnets- and wraps, for which eun-
fecling‘peisons who do not occupy end seats
are responsible. Yet there is something to be
saidfor thccustom, provided it be notnbused
by too frequent visits to convenient bars. It
is pleasant to meet acquaintances in the
lobbies and chat is ; moment about the play,
and if our theatres ' generally were better
adapted to this par-pow,- with comfortable
means of exit from every part of the audi-
torium, going out between the acts might
come into favor rather than fall into dine.
pure. As for the injured bonuses—well. they.
ought not to be worn at all to the theatre.
Boston Post. ,
First Wmotivo In America.~
The locomotive known as the Stourbrldgo
Dion was the first locomotive run on this con-
tinent. The oocurrenm took place at Hones
this, Pa", Augusta, 1829, on the mine railroad
_ of tin Delaware and ' Hudson Canal com-
built for that company in England, id 1823.
under my direction as to plans, which were
received in the city of New York early in
rtho year 1829. Through circumstances not
unnecessary to date I ran the locomotive my-
:self—a responsibility I had never undertaken
before and havonsver repeated since. ..Thns
on this'first movement by steam on railroads
on this continent I was engineer, fireman,
Tirrakeman, condmrfor and pussenger.-Hom~
:
1 itio Allen, Trenton, N. .I.
0rd, rusty and crumbling
lflges‘but- sun substantial ,- -
under ihe Thames! Will the swift influx of -
accountant.» harvest
"forcibly repmsenfcd.
The. Motive was one of. three.
A CRACKSMAN’S recur.
HEIWOULD ROB THE HOUSE, THEN
KISS THE WOMEN AND DEPART.
Hermann Vickery. the Noted California
Thief-Nine You! in Prison Did Not
Change Bin-Blddhd with Bullets While ,
Attoriipting to Escape.
The burglar, lies-mun Vickery, who was
shot this weekend fatally injured while Innk-
inga bold dashfor libctyst. Folsom-tats
prison, had a careerth is one of the most
extraordinary-in tho‘criminelannais of the
coast.» California has had many desperate
criminals whom long residence in prison
could not tame, but none of these over showed
such utter lack of fear as Vickery did, or
such remarkable disregard of danger when
indulklnk in his favorite pastime 'of burglary.
The police ofiicers who saw much, of him and
the prison ofiicials all declared hams a crank.
and they have pointed, since his death, tobis
attempt to escape as proof of their soundness
of position, but others who knew him said he
was simply a confirmed criminal, with many
eccentricities. which made him coin .
a study as Black Bart, the poetical lone high-
wayman, who robbed stages for over ten
years, and left a sarcastic note in doggorel
every time he broke open an express box or
slit a mail pouch. -.
a baseman cannon.
Visitor-y certainly hadn't one chance-In a
hundred to escape whontbe dripped his-tools!
and scrambled up the steep; bank , on the.
American river just belowv'li‘olsom prison.
He probably'counted en the guards becoming '
“rattled,” as the governor was inspecting the
place at tbejtfme. As it proved, he modes
good calculation. Although during his climb .
up the exposed side ofoblufl for seventy feel:
he was innings of a doaeaninchesters and
one Gatliiig gun, and the ground over which
hopaaet’i jlookedsftsrwai-d as if it had been
rooted up by hogs where the thower of lead
struck it, still Vickery reached within ten
feet of safety when three bullets struck him.
He lied gained the top of the blnfl, and
" Winement would have seen him safely
.bnfiedm Zurich charms! that crows on
top, but when his figure was outlined against
“the sky he made too-fine a target, and he was
3 broughtfdéwii-by wounds that ended hislife
thhtjfliglit. ‘ As he was veryifieet off footnnd,
notoriously skillful in eluding pursuit, had he
reached the shelter of the brush the chances
Were altogether in favor of his escape.
. odious-av 'wr'ra imam -.
miner in Yreka, Sisklyon county. lathe ex-.
treme northern part of the state. ,- There,
about 1870. he committed-a series ofburg’li'V
rise and was Sent to San Quentin ”Editing
term of years. He made sogobd an im’pres-
sion‘on' the prison officials, and his thefts had
been so small that he was pardonedabout
' 1875., He came to this city, and in the fol-
lowingyear was convicted-of perpetrating a.
remarkable series of. burglaries that were the
locals'erisa'tion funnels-1y a month.
, fAfiier‘rbelpga heuse, it was his custom to
, visit the the female members of tbS ‘
mnrnyeud . d’fondle them. On several
occasions he ‘llygotlntobedwiths‘léepf
ing women, whamthsynwoke h'oebco’ped‘ '
by a window ofdomfiriiichihe, had thoughts
fully left'open, .takinit Maplpnder with-him." "
robbed agar caught‘himftsomeof tbswonm
‘ whom he kissed were. seriously ill from then
.shock of awaiting. and finding themselvessjn;
a strange man'sarms': - Vickery sun-weal gil ,
his previous exploits by getting mtg-bed -b_e_-
side a wifewhile the husband wasalgo,s§l§ep.-
The latter was aroused and chased, Vickeijy‘
from the house, but, as usual, the burglaries- '
He was taken, however. soon after while
, attempting to burglarim the premises bf)
"Mn'Owens. He was sent to San Quentin for.
fifteen years, but after nine years, according
to the working of the Goodwin not, his
fifteen year term was ended. his was dis—
charged in 1885, and as he had become a
good carpenter, the jail oflcials thought he
would lead an honest life.
summed 10 ms om TRICKS.
They made a-great mistake, however, asho
. returned to the city, and didn’t even use up
the money be had made by extm work In
prison before he began his old brains! of
burglary and'annoyin'g-women. .Heitrans-
ferredhis-operatiomtoOakland, perhaps be-
cementum. bundan. .. Geotzwomeninthe
infatycitym WNYHHQQIW . ' ormed
~ onewoman', baths ofiered no'ontragi to her,
althoiigh, (she was _' in‘ - his; power for several
' hours,» as canghta servant , girl going out
for anon-and one night and: kissed her, but
when she tried toscream heehoked her, and
she was found in's‘enflble. He robbed the
poor box in St. Anthony’s church and foi-
iowed this by actually grabbing a'wornnn up
from her-bed, kiming her, and than disap-
pearing through the neighboring window. , -
The quiet district of ‘ Oakland, where these
performances occurred,‘ became so terror-
stricken that no Wchn would venture out
were put on, and one night in May, 1886,
' Vickery was caught. 39' gave the name of
Joel Jay, and was so greatly changed by
prison life that it was with much difiicnlty
that he was identified. "llamas convicted
and sent to Folsom prison for thirty years—-
equal, in his case, to a life sentence, as he
was then 50 years old.
At Folsom he gave much trouble, as he was
more cranky than ever and had long fits of
surliness. , He made severalfdesperate at«
tempts to escape, but all Awere timer-ted.
Those. who observed himin hll'lfist years in
prison said he seemed to' livo‘only in the hope
of breaking out, as his health was failing,
and he could not have lived long. His death
matched his life. for he took. desperate
chances which not one man in sthonssnd
would have risked, and he c'ame'within an
'aceof success—San Francisco Cor. St. Louis
Globe-Democrat.
A Country of Small Things.
Japan is a country of the little. The man
here are from five feet to five feet five inches
high, and the women are smaller. Notwith-
standing the fact that they raise themselves
three inches 011' the ground on their wooden
sandals. I am continually looking down at
them, and a fair sized American girl towers
above them like an Amazon. ansnme trees
are dwarfed, and in fact all nature seems to
be made on the six by nine plan. ‘The
chickens are nearlyall bantams, and the cat-i,
with their bobtuiis, look like kittens com-
pared with our American tommys, and the
horses are ponies. The houées’ of the common
people are but one story and the rooms look
like children’s play houses. The country,
though as big as several states, is full of pie-
turesque scenery, but it is. the pretty rather
than the grand. and you have beautiful bits
rather than sublime landscapes. It is the same
with everything. If Insk fora cup of tea at
a little wayside teahouse it is handed to me
in a little piece of shell' like china no bigger
than an egg cup, and, the little Japanese
beauty goes down . on 'her knees when she ,
brings ittto you—“Frank G. Carpenter.
Tue occurs via-3:2»
~8eidomornéver lras the enormous imporo
‘ [the sen been more
. ' u it was by Professor
Huxley in the address which he delivered at
the International. Fisheries exhibition some
years ago. ‘Au more of good fishing ground,
he pointed out, will yield more food in a
weekt an acreof nbehest landwillin a
year. till more vivid was his picture of
the moving "mountain of coil,” 120 to 180
feet in height, which for two; months in
‘ the your moves westward and-southwardpast
the Norwegian coast. Every sduaro mile of
this-colossal column of fish contains one hun-
‘dred and twenty million fish,- consuming
- every week, when on short? rations, no fewer
than eight hundred and forty. million her-.
rings. The whole catch of the Norwegian
fisborhs neVer exceeds in a year more than
half a square miioof this “cod. mountain,”
and one week’s supplyof the hen’ings needed
to keep that area. of cod fromzstarving. Lon-
don might be victualed' with barring for a
‘ on a day- s consumption of the countless‘
shoalsof nncsnght cod-:Trns Fug.
Aggro-Iva ”this Turtles.
While the 5-year-old son .of,'John Y. W.
Purcell was “playing host” inc and pond or
fit: inns-shoe tho'ffl-hud.'.’.ss.uenmamip
,‘of wet woodedhndonthsflfhonmn. Trem-
per-Mk themof. Rochester,» was
attacked by a large number of snapping
turtles, very numerous in that section, and
sustained several severe bites from the
hithertooonsidered inoffensive reptilm. No
cause is knowngfor‘ mfid‘n‘itm that
section is entirel un ' ‘ .- seems
flu first warningythe little fellow , had was a
general gathering of tboturtles aroundhim,
each uttering: peculiar creaking noise. The
Iittlo'tot being questioned shut it by the at.
tending physician, said: “Zayall tommenoed
to holar,an’ I frew ’tbnesnplt 3:. leg;
yunnoll and finial. an’ ney me
an facts, nn’ hurt me orfal bad.” His
mother, hearingbis. mm to his
Won], tafind'himcompleteiy sur-
rounded by the ugly thiamjhich- were
literaliycbewinghim topiecessndencking
bitblond, and item with some dificultythat
showman-o! withaclothes stickwhich
“IBM In)” W» in her hand.—
1.’°_v £333, NewM..--- .
S’iMu'wasla » German whoiworkadl‘os as 2
of'the. home afterdark, and all doors and _.
, windowsgwero securely belted. Extra police
A TAR’S TALK 0N ICE.
THE OLD SALT SPINS SOME YARNS
OF MID-OCEAN DANGERS.
A Monster Borg. Sixty Miles Wide. With
a Bay In Its Center—A Cake That Was
Ten Thousand Feet from Top to
Bottom.
Out on one of, the long docks, just below
Wall street ferry, a heavily bearded, rather
woll-to-do looking man stood lookingup into
“refining of a big American ship. That
heknew what he was looking at was as evi-
dentnswu the fact that he wanted some—
body to talk to, and it only required'a pleas-
ant salutation to get on speaking terms with
him.
He was an old sailor, having, as he said,
"crawled in the hawsepi and come out at
the cabin windows," w h being translated
mews that he had worked himself up from
befOre themast to the master’s berth. He
was on old time American master.
“It wam‘tsdstrange to see an American
fiagatalofty gafl in those days,” said he.
“We had the finest and fastest ships in the
world. and when a lime juicer (sailor for
Englishman) saw cotton canvas on a royal
yardlie knew that it wasn’t any use trying
to catch that ‘bloody Yankee,’ as they al-
‘ways called aship fromv "thoSt'atesJ ”
Jill: then the old hilar- ' mflfinth'me:
Inner , 1311421913991. .-'. .R. .. 1' " x
mortal-l n‘ose muggy! _. stream
'Huiite’r’s Point aroma that hfiunhitbe river,
' but the sailor had eight a' whiff 'of some-
thingelsa 1 7 >
“.Do you know," said. he, “I thought I
smelled an iceberg just then. At sea in high
latitudes you can smell them miles away, and
many a night‘I have kept all-hands on deck
snifiing and peering around on the Watch for
field. ice orbergs. I ‘tellyonit is no fun to
have half adozen icebergs loafin' g around
when your ship is! ' g’ nine or ten knots
straight off the wetland you1arein such a
to shorten sail.” , , . _
.The'scenthadaw eneda train of mm:
ory, and, seating" himself on oneof the dock
piles, lie fiook-alarga sized choir of plug and
settled himself to talk, about field ice and
herd!
. “1
deep sea ship,” began the uld‘shcllback, “and
have doublediboth :Copa Herb and Cape of
bar-gs down there are not so lofty in- so beau-
‘tiful'ds those in Arctic regions, but they are
'much more dangerous; first,2because of their
. number and extent, and again because they
have submarine formations that are just like
a ledge of rocks and project sometimes half
a mile or a mile out from the base of the
berg. You see with these fellows you might
think you were giving them all the berth
--tbey‘._neerled and still: break your ship up on
~ one‘of—th'eir r'eefs. ‘
2A- Housman ICEBERG.
. -“The biggest icgisland I ever heard told of
by sailors wss‘s'een drifting around in about
. .3 .32 S..and2-1:»W.,'nlmost inthe track of the
' English Liverpool boats bound to Melbourne.
remainders thistle wnsfirst sighted, and
: fitw=°h9nk of ice wasroported from that
go much a. i I , gm "mum, . - cinitysruhl 1.850. when It dual)
It
'. flea-filter have been about 350 feet high, 60
mustang audio miles wide, and was curved
into-very inuchthe shape of a horseshoe. The
i tweet-nob: the curves embraced a bay forty
midi-bis“ 6dd~perfectly sheltered. A big
- English “emigrant Iship, called the Guiding
Tatar; i Iéltlink; sighted the ice island, but
whetherl bociuso. ‘of fog or carelessness,
nobbdylkhow's, sailed slap into the bay be-
Ween . the arms: of the island and was lost
with all hands. Biéces 'df her-wreckage were
.piekedzupneatth‘e’ islandtl'ly asteumer bound
’fonAustr-alis» :' i L"; I:
“Thehighest berg Lever: heard of was seen
in the Southern ocean, where they are not
generally very lofty. I sailed; with a man
who declared thatrhe had seen this berg and
that it was athousand feet high above the
surface of the water. Now as there is always
nine timesas ,much of'_ a Iberg below the
water as there is above, that would make this
fellow 9,000 feet from the base under water
' to the highest point above. That’s a pretty
big chunk of ice, considering that it is over
fifty times as high as the. Brooklyn bridge.
I’ll bet it made a splash when it fell! That’s
where the danger -is.' ,‘In, warm: latitudes the
base melts away and the first thing you
know it fall! over.- ’ 5I have heard of several
ships mashed bigfclmnnuu'on their decks,
and several of her crew killed. .-
"Northern berg: amneither so large nor
so numerous.” thoshseeuiinhonthern waters,
but tbsy.ate'usua1iy loftier and more beauti-
ful, with lots of spires and-domes, and when
the sun'shinas on them they look like a lot of
rainbowspiled ontop of each ether. These
follows are tall and.’ draw :a lot of water. I
have heard of them grounded on the banks
. of Newfoundland, where there was over 600
,feetof water by1the :Iead. : They have been
. , _ in than hay: herd. aground in
1,500 feet, of water.”—New York Mail and
~ Express. , - .
Looking Down from‘mgh Places.
A determined faced, this looking man was
looking up where a thirteen story building
seems to pierce the clouds. After standing
and staring for some minutes he turned to the
Stroller: “All the money in Chicago would
.notbire ms to stand upon that corner up
there where I’ve often seen the men perched
withZ , the utmost confidence. I would not ’
. dare to' trustmyself. I was in the army—in
,tbs‘nrmy-éin many a hot engagement. lien
were shot down on each side and in front of
me. I was wounded numerous times, and I
never knew what fear was. Yet, whenever
I look from any immense eminence I feel an
almost» uncontrollable impulse to pitch my-
self headlong below.
“One night I with others occupied a sixth
story window on Clark street. We were
viewing a procaion. I was sitting on the
window sill, my feet resting one. sign. I felt
the desperate desire coming. over me, and it
was by sheer force I threw myself headlong
back into the room. I congratulated myself
upon a narrow escape. I, imagine there are
many who meet death by falling from win-
dows, and who” tragic end is reported as by
accident or intoxication, who, you might say,
perforce commit suicide.”—Chicago Journal.
Night Air.
High medical authorities agree that the
prejudice against "night air” is an unfounded
and unnecessary one. The best authority on
consumption and other lung disorders holds
that the air of London is never so good as it
Is after 10 p. m. It is but reasonable to as-
sume. therefore, that the prevailing impres-
sion regarding the evils of sleeping in a room
whose windows admit this air of the night is
a popular superstition unwarranted by facts.
Undoubtedly exposure to a druf t of outer arr
colder than that of the sleeping room is un-
desirable. But fresh air, whether of tho
nightor the day, can do no hurt, and as to
t air, there is no other kind of air, in-
doorsor out, after nightfall, and the preju-
dice is, to say the least. a silly one—Pitts-
burg Bulletin.
glut of the Breastworwzr
Cars Senses, Team. July 4. 1882
The Swift Specific,Co., Atlanta, 63.:
Gentlemen-visage years ago I contracted
an exceedingly bad case of blood poison. I
tried a physicran, the best it mmmand, but
secured no benefit. My throat began to
gm sore, and my body covered will sores
and aims. Going» from bad .to worse. . I
felt that my grave must be-ro'sched indie
near future. I gave up the doctors’treat.
meat, and with a despairing hope I com.
meneed taking your medicine. I began to
improve from the first bottle, and in a short
time the ulcers healed, and my skin cleared
off and was entirely well.
One year ago a case of cutarh developed
in my system. The physician did his best,
but could not cure me; butmbotflesof
Swift's Specific gave me »‘ ._ '
J. H. Rousseau.
_KAUFNAN, Tex., June 23, 1885,
The Swift Specific Co., Atlanta, Ga.:
Gentlemen—I have been afflicted with a
skin disease for about melve'ycars, and the
best medical treatment= failed to, give are re-
lief. lam now using Swift‘s Specific, and
have received the greatest benefit from its.
use. Yours truly, _ Wu. JONES.
For sale by all druggists.
Tris Swim Smr‘ric Co.,
Drawer 3, Atlanta, Ga.
New York-7’56, Broadway.
\ London, Eng., 35 Snow Hil..
I have Moatarrh for twenty years, rind
used all kinds of remedies Without relief.
Mr. Smith, druggist of Little Falls. rec
ommended Ely’s Cream Balm. The effect
of the first _ licuion was magical; it
allnyed the 'i animation, and the. next
morning my head _
One bottle did ‘meso much good that I am
convinced its use will effect a permanent
cure. It-isIsoothinllz, pleasupt and essay til)
a ' I and ”strong y u‘rge‘i .8 rise y a
9333mm—Geo. Terry, Little Falls, N. it.
"~ ‘Ofiicial returns in MisSi‘ssippi give( love-
,land a plurality of 55,380,
hurry to make a pangs thntvyou don’t. want
Whit fer nenrly twenty years master of “
.Goodflopemore timei than I';havefinga\s: .2 _:
twice over. That’s ,where.you.se6 ice. The '—’f ‘
one vessel Iravinghéri-mnstlr'carried away . 2‘
was as clear as a bell.-.
Absolutely Pure.
This Powder never varies. A marvel of pure
.stren h and wholesomeness. More economic
' than no ordinary kinds, and cannot be sold in com-
petition with the multitude of low test, short
weight, alinm or phosphate powders.
Ronr. Banuo Pownnu 00.,106 Wall St. , N. Y.
Do Your Own Dyeing, at]! .
They will dye everything. They areal)! every-
whexer Brice .loP'i‘W- Theyhavs sequel
for Stun h. Brightness..hmount in 1’
offer? more , oflion- g. ‘ es.
Theydo not cracker smut; «colors. Forsalsby
J. G. Gregoryar 00.: C. Lapham, 1i Main S1treet;
yai
Geo B. Plalsied,Dr-n§gim
CATAMH Env’s
" ' ' .CIIEIM-BAIM
.vasv
‘ . ' Cleanses the
Na all Passag-
es, alloys pain
andin‘flamma
tiou .Iscals lire
sores. . restor-
es the senses
of taste and
smell.
TRY THE CURE
Aparticlc is applied into each nostril and is
agreeable. PricesDcents at Drug late; by mail,
registered, 60 cts. . ELY BROTHE S, [56 Warren
Street, New York. ‘ ' 1y44‘
"2’tl'i'ON’S FURNACES
aim cares-r PATENT monovnrruvs
ARE names-ms!) ONLY B!
The liloyn'ton Furnace Co
N. A fit. rrzv'ruri, l’resi. 20] d ‘ 09 WATER 311. NJ
FOR SALE BY '
'FI DWI JAQUI, “Jr- .
NORWA LK. CONN. ,
211136
Heals Without Leaving a. Scar.
disease to the Internal Organs,
all the poisonous and corrupt humors,
Erysipelas,
Sores, Fresh Cuts, Snake Bites, Bruises,
boxes three times larger than any other Salve,
everywhere.
profession and druggists who know
results than any other medicine.
for all Malarious Diseases, Torpid Liver.
Dyspepsia, Loss of Appetite, Indigestion.
Neuralgia and Nervous Diseases,
Kidneys, Colds and Fever and A c.
MOFFAT'S LIFE PILLS are
Dyspepsia,
Complaints, etc.
A
PHOENIg‘BITTERI, $i.oo a Bottle.
Possesses many Important Advantages over all
other prepared Foods.
BABIES 037 F0” IT.
MIMI/08 BELISII IT.
Makes Plump. Laughing, Healthy Babies.
Regulates tho Stomach and Bonnie.
Sold by Drugglsts. use, soc., 31.00.
WELLS. lilclilitnsoii I 60., annular", v1.
Babyc Portraits.
A Portfolio of autiilrl baby portraits, printed
undue Iatc paper by patent p oto recess, sent
freeto {other of any Baby born wit in a year.
Every lintircr wants these pictures; send at. once.
Give Baby‘s ironic and age.
wills. hieHARbSDfl a. co, Props., Burlington, Vt.
._Jrs.sn HOPSON,
GARBIAGE MAKER,
Has removed to the building
,1 hurt in Gregory’s Stables. Knight street
. Where he does first-class
Carriage Repairing and Painting
ml At Reasonablel’rlcos.
IIII iNI'I'IIIIII
A Full Stock of Furniture of all kinds'
PARLIIR AND BEDROOMSETS
a specialty.
DAVID STOW,
Main Street one. flepot
SOUTH NORWALK,CON1V
Page’s Climax Salve,
A FAMILY BLESSING FOR 25 CENTS.
Its action upon the system is unlike any other external remedy, as it never drives the
blaius, Frosted Feet, and all cutaneous diseases
' l X SALVI ts like ma ic on _
PAGE 8 CLIMA ac Bums, Saddle and Harness Galls, Chafes. etc. It IS put up in
and sold at the low price of twenty-five cents per box.
it is warranted to Cure in every case or money refunded. For Sale by Druggists and Dealers in medicine
Moffnt's Life Pills are purely vegetable. . .
and kidneys, purify and regulate the whole system, and are warranted a. certain cure
Impure Blood, Jaundice, Bilious Complaints,
LA‘III’ESIe avg: iii—H. DWYER.
I" Fire" largest Stock of ,g-Hanless
EVER. BISPLAYED Ill TOWN.
All: First-critic Hand micelles. Oak ’l'nnnco
Pennsylvania Leather
. List-lino crass, 'Pnrces.
Call early a's'I intend to seilfat Sunni. Psorrr,
~SEYE'JYI Y-fiFIVE
Set. their all urine Harness.
‘ IlAIiIIE-IIBIIOOK "All,
Over Mitchell's Market, next door to P. H. Dwy-
er’s old stand. iatf
EQUITABLE clearance 00..
on Kansas crrv. carnal. S2,ooo,ooo
6 and 7 ercent. Debentnre Fonds
Loans at or and Accrued Interest, alid Mortgage
' ' R. B. CRAUFURD, Agent,
Room 2 Masonic Buildlf g
HENRY :TILLY ’
CARRIAGE MAKER,
SOUTH NORWALK, -
CONN
Manufacturer of .
Family Carriages," Victories, Buggies, he.
.—
All Kinds of Repairing.
' JOIIN 'SVUXTIIINSO—N,’
Wholesale and Retail Dealer in
Harness, Blankets,
Trunks. Bags,
Sole Leather and Shoe Findings, and Boot
and Shoe Uppers.
Corner-of Peirfleld Ave. and Kiddie Street
Bridgeport, Conn.
ly4s
’For Sale.
DOUBLE BARRELLED RIFLE madeby Joli
Biissett, London. Will be sold cheap to
cash. Enquire at the office.
filters on
)
'ii subunit???“
CD
:
z
>
X
m
,1:
< ,
m
Its properties go to the diseased part, and separate
through the perspiring vessels to the surface, and
eradicates the disease from the system. We warrant it to cure Old Sores. Ulcers,
Scrofii’Ia Sores. Salt Rheum, Sore Breasts or Nipples. . _
Boils, Scolds, Burns, Cuts, Bruises, Fistula, Piles, Corns, Bunions, Chil.
Inflnmed Eyes, Swollen Glands,
on man and beast.
horse flesh in curing Scratches, Mange, Old
___.___.—.—————
MUFFAT’S LIFE PILLS.
THE GREAT STOMACH AND LIVER REMEDY.
Established by one of our most. eminent physicians and recommended by the medical
their real merit, and are used with more pleasing
They act on the stomach, bowels, liver
Costiveness, Nervous and Sickfleadache.
Female obstructions and General weakness, Scurvy.
Inflammatory Rheumatism, Piles of every kind, Gravel and Diseases of the Bladder and
e cgantly Sugar coated and easy to take and are a perfect after
dinner Pill, one taken after dinner each day will aid digestion and cure all disorders of the Stomach.
Headache and Sick Headache cannotexistif these Pills are used. For costiveness take one Pill at bedtime.
MOFFAT’S PHOENIX BITTERS
Are not a drink used for intoxication. but a. pure medicine and only used by people
who are sick. ’l‘hey correct the secretions of the stomach and are a. sure cure for
Sleeplessness, Nervousne<s, Debility, . .
Thousands of certificates are in possession of the proprietor, grvrng,‘
perfect cures effected by these invaluable medicines and we warrant that they will do
just what we have said or money will be refunded. It is simply asked that the afflicted
will tr them once, their use will convince the most skeptical.
'8 OLIHAX SALVE. 256-33”. HOFFAT'S Ll
For Sale by Drugglsts and Dealers in medicir. r everywhere,
or sent by mail or Express, prepaid, on receipt of price.
3' o P, MILLS, Sole Proprietor.
85 LIBERTY STREET. NEW YORK.
\Veakness, Loss of Appetite, Female
E PILLS, 25¢. a Box. HOFFAT'S
It’s Easy to Dye
\V [TH
Duluth Dries
IL , 1 Superior
Strength,
Fastness,
Beauty,
I AND ’
’ Simplicity.
Warranted to color more goods than any other
dyes ever made, and to give more brilliant and
durable colors. Ask for the Diamond, and take
no other. 36coiors; so cents each. .
WELLS, RICHARDSON d 00.. Burlington, Vt.
For Gliding or Bronzing Fancy Articles, USE
DIAMOND PAINTS.
Gold, Silver, Bronze, Copper. Only to Cents.
'IF YOU WANT
A HEATER
THAT WILL
Heat Your House
——aErr——
.”i‘ in ii. teenwnun seas
Norwalk Chronicler