- seq-and if their particular boy wished to
T H E SEA.
an is dim on the dark soft water,
Soft and passionate, dark and sweet;
Love‘s own self was the deep sea's daughter,
Fair and flawless fronf face to feet;
I ail'd of all when the world was golden,
Loved of lovers whose names beholden
Thrill men‘s eyes as with light of olden
Days more glad than their flight was fleet.
So they sang: but for men that love her,
Souls that. bear not her word in vain,
Earth beside her and heaven above her
Seem but shadows that wax and wane.
Softer than sieep‘s are the sea‘s caresses,
Kinder than love‘s that betrays and blesses,
Ilitli. 2' than spring‘s when her ilowurful tresses
Shake forth sunlight and shine with rain.
All the. strength of the waves that perish
‘ .s beneath me and laughs and sighs,
5' .. -.-)r love of the life. they cherish,
Laughs to know that it liver. and dies:
Pics for joy of its life and lives.
Thrilisd with joy that its brief dc$i gives,
Death whose laugh or whme brea..i forgives
Change that bids it subside and rise.
—-—.Xlgern<,in Charles Swinburne in Lady.
Iii Till] PRIDE til? YOUTH.
\‘C‘ncn l was telling; you of the joke that
the. ’\".'::‘-'::i played oil" on the senior sub-
alteri; l promised a S-)le.,‘\'-'lllit- similar tale,
but vs; :2} all the jest left. out. This is that
tuh.
Disk." i-lal‘t was kidnaped in his early,
earl; youth—neither by landlady’s daugh-
ter :xnuixl, barmaid, nor cook, but by
a girl ‘3.) nearly of his own caste that only
a woman could have said she was just the.
least little bit. in the world below it. This
happened a month before he came out to
India, and five days after his one-:uul-twen-
tieth birthday. The girl was nineteen—six
years older than Dicky in thothings of this
world, that is to say—and, for the time,
twice as foolish as he.
Excepting always falling off a horse
there is nothing more fatally easy than
narriage before the registrar. The cere-
mony costs less than fifty Shillings, and is
remarkably like walking into a pawn shop.
After the declarations of residence have
been put in four minutes will cover the
rest of the proceedings—fees, attestation
and all. Then the registrar slides the blot—
ting pad over the names, and says grimly
with his pen between his teeth:
you’re man and wife;” and the couple walk
out intz‘. the street, feeling as if something
were licrribly illegal somewhere.
But iinit ceremony holds and can drag a
man to his undoing just as thoroughly as
“Now
the “long as ye both shall live” curse from
the altar rails, with the bridesmaids gig-
gling behind, and “The Voice That
Brcati‘ do‘erliden" liftingthe roof off. In
thism 'nerwas Dicky Hut: kidnaped, and
he ct n art-d it vastly fine, for he had re
ceived appointment in India which car-
ried a magnificent salary from the homx
point of view. The marriage was to be
kept secret for a year. "hen Mrs. Dicky
Hatt was to come out and the rest of life
was to he a golden mist. That was how
they sketched it under the Addison Road
station lamps; and after one short month
came Gravesend and Dicky steaming out
tohis new life, and the girl crying in a
thirty—shillings—a-weck bed-and—liviug-room
,.
in a back street off '4 jlclier square near
the Knightsbridge bu. . . -.l:s.
But the country that Dicky came to was
a‘ hard land, where “men” of 21 were rock
cued v fi,‘ small boys indeed and life was
expensa re. The salary that loomed so
large 6.000 miles away did not go far—par-
ticularly wncn Dicky divided it by two
and remitted more than the fair half at 1-6
to Montpelier square. One hundred and
thirty-live rupees out of the 330 is not
much to live on, but it was absurd to sup—
pose thut Mrs. Hat-t could exist forever on
the £20 held back by Dicky from his outfit
allowance. Dicky saw this and remitted
at once, always remembering that Rs. 700
were to be paid twelve months later for a
first class passage out for a lady. \Vhen
you add to these trifling details the natural
instincts of a boy beginning a new life in a
new country, and longing to go about and
enjoy himself, and the necessity for grap-
pling with strange work—Which, properly
speaking, should take up a boy’s undivided
attention—you will see that Dicky started
handicapped. He saw it himself for a
breath or two, but he did not guess the
full beauty of his future.
As tie. hot weather began the shackles
settled on him and ate into his flesh. First ,
would come. letters—big, crossed, seven ?
sheet letters—frmn his wife, telling him ,
how she .onged to see him, and what a E
heaven upon earth would be their property ;
when they met. Then some boy of the i
chuu'rnery wherein Dicky lodged would ‘
pound on the door of his bare little. room ,
and tell him to come out to Look at a pony
—thc very thing to suit him. Dic.-:y could
not {15: rd ponies. lie had to explain this.
Dicky muld not an‘ord living in the. chum-
rnery, aides: as it was. He had to explain
this before he moved to a single room next
the ofiice where me worked all day. He
kept house on a green oilcloth table cover,
(ne chair, one charpoy, cue photograph,
one tooth glass. very strong and thick, a
seven rupee cightanna filter, and messing
by contract at thirty-seven rupees a month
—~which last item was extortion. He had
no punkuh, for punkah cos ts fifteen rupees
a month; but he slept on the roof of the
office with all his wife’s letters under his
pillow. Now andagain he. was asked out
to dinner, where he got both a punkah and
an iced drink. But this was seldom, for
people objected to recognizing a. boy who
had evidently the instincts of a Scotch
tallow chandler and who lived in such a
nasty fashion. Dicky could not subscribe
to any amusement, so he found no amuse-
ment except the pleasure of turning over
his bank book and reading what it said
about “loans on approved security.” That
cost nothing. He remitted through a Bom-
bay bank, by the way, and the station
knew nothing of his private affairs.
Every month he sent home all he could
possibly spare for his wife—and for another
reason which was expected to explain itself
shortly and would require more money.
, About this time Dicky was overtaken
with the nervous, haunting fear that besets
married men when they are out of sorts.
He had no pension to look to. What if he
should die suddenly and leave his wife un—
provided for? The thought used to lay
hold of him in the still, hot nights on the
roof, till the shaking of his heart made
him think that he was going to die then
and there of heart disease. Now this is a
frame of mind which no boy has a right to
know. It is a strong man’s trouble; but,
coming when; it did, it nearly drove poor
punkahless, perspiring Dicky Hatt mad.
He could tell no one about it.
A certain amount of “screw” is as neces-
sary for a. man, as, for abilliard ball. It
makes them both do wonderful things.
Dicky needed money badly, and he worked
forit like a horse. But, naturally, the men
who owned him knew that a boy can live
very comfortably on a certain income—spay
in India is a matter of age, not merit, you
i
i
i
l
i
worklike two boys business forbid that
they sl‘muld stop him! But business forbid
that they should give him an increase of
pay at his present ridiculouslyimmatgrc
NORIVALK GAZETTE WEDNESDAY JULY 2. 1890.
age! So Dicky won certain rises of Salary
waniple for a boy, not enough for a wife
anda child—certainly too little for the
700 rupee passage that he and Mrs. Hatt
had discussed so lightly once upon a time.
And with this 'he was forced to be content.
Somehow all his money seemed to fade
away in home drafts and the crushing ex-
change, and the tone of the home letters
changed and grew qucrulous. “\Vhy
wouldn’t Dicky have his wife and the
baby out? Surely he had a salary—a finc
salary—and it was too bad of him to enjoy
himself in India. But would lie—could he
—make the next draft a little more elas-
tic?” Herc followed a list of baby’s kit
as long as a Parscc’s bill. Then Dicky,
whose heart yearned to his wife and the
little son he had never seen—which again
is a. feeling no boy is entitlrgl to—enlarged
the draft and wrote queer half boy, half
man letters, saying that life was not so
enjoyable after all, and would the little
wife wait yet a little longer? But the
little wife, however much she approved of
money, objected to waiting, and there was
a strai‘ige. hard sort of ring in her letters
that Dicky didn’t understand. How could
he, poor boy?
Later on still, just as Dicky had been
told—apropos of another youngster who
had “made a fool of himself,” as the saying
is—that matrimony would not only ruin
his further chances of advancement, but
would lose him his present appointment——
came the news that the baby, his own
little, little son, had died, and behind this
forty lines of an ungrywoman’s scrawl,
saying the death might have been averted
if certain things, all costing money, had
been done, or if the mother and the baby
had been with Dicky. The letter struck at
Dicky’s naked heart, but not being official-
ly entitled to a baby he could show no sign
of trouble.
How Dicky won through the next four
months, and what hope he kept alight to
force. him into his work, no one dare say.
He pounded on, the 700 rupee passage as
far awn r' as ever, and his style of living un-
changed except when he launched into a
new filter. There was the strain of his
office work and the strain of his remit—
tances, and the knowledge of his boy’s
death, which touched the boy more, per-
haps, than it would have touched a man,
and, beyond all, the enduring strain of his
daily life. Gray headed seniors who ap-
proved of his thrift and his fashion of de-
nying himself everything pleasant remind-
ed him of the old saw that says:
If a youth would be distinguished in his art, art,
art,
He must keep the girls away from his heart, heart,
heart.
And Dicky, who fancied he had been
through every trouble that aman is per-
mitted to know, had'to laugh and agree,
with the last line of his balanced bank
book jingling in his head (lay and night.
But he had one more sorrow to digest
before the end. There arrived a letter from
the little wii’e— the natural sequence of the
others if Dicky had only known it—and the
burden of that letter was “gone with a
handsomcr man than you. ” It was a rather
curious production, without stops, some-
thing like this: “She was not going to wait
forever and the baby was dead and Dicky
was only a boy and he would never set eyes
on her again and why hadn’t he waved his
handkerchief to her when he left Gravesend
and God was her judge she was a wicked
woman but Dicky \ 'as worse enjoying him-
self in India and this other man love the
ground she trod on and would Dicky ever
forgive her for she would never forgive
Dicky; and there was no address to write to.”
Instead of thanking his stars that he
was free, Dicky discovered exactly how an
injured husband feels—again, not at all
the knowledge to which a boy is entitled——
for his mind went back to his wife as he
remembered her in the thirty shilling
“suit” in Montpelier square, when the
dawn of his last morning in England was
breaking and she was crying in the bed.
IVhereat he rolled about 011 his bed and
bit his fingers. He never stopped to think
whether, if he had met Mrs. Hatt after
those two years, he would have discovered
that he and she had grown quite, different
and new persons. This, theoretically, he
ought to have done. He spent the night
after the English mail came in rat-her
severe pain.
Next morning Dicky Hatt felt disin-
clined to work. He argued that he had
missed the pleasure of youth. He was
'tired, and he had tasted all the sorrow in
life before three and twenty. His honor
was gone—that was the man; and now he,
too, would go to the devil—that was the
boy in hin . So he put his head down on
the green oil cloth table cover and wept
before resigning his post, and all it offered.
But the reward of his services came. He
was gi 'en three days to reconsider himself,
and the head of the establishment, after
some telegraphings, said that it was a most
unusual step, but in view of the ability
that Mr. Ilatt had displayed at such and
such a time, at such and such junctures,
he 'was in a position to offer him an infi-
nitely superior post-—first on probation, and
later, in the natural course of things, on
confirmation. “And how much does the
post carry?” said Dicky. “Six hundred
and fifty rupees,” said the head slowly, ex-
pecting to see the young man sink with
gratitude and joy.
And it came thenl—thc 700 rupee passage,
and enough to have saved the wife and the
little son, and to have allowed of assured
and open marriage, came then. Dicky
burst into a roar of laughter—laughter he
could not check—nasty, jangling merri—
ment that seemed as if it would go on for-
ever. \thn he had recovered himself he
said, quite seriously: “I’m tired of work.
I’m an old man now. It’s about time I re-
tired. And I will.”
“The boy’s mad!” said the head.
I think he was right; but Dicky Hatt
never reappeared to settle the question.—
Rudyard Kipling.
About Time It Was Finished.
One of the interesting canal enterprises
now on foot is that which is to connect the
Corinthian and Saronic gulfs of Greece.
This canal across the Isthmus of Corinth,
which is to render unnecessary the voyage
around the Peloponnesus, will be four
miles long, about the length of the Hoosac
tunnel, but it will beat even that famous
work in the lapse of time between its in-
ception and completion. It was suggested
by Perlander, one of the seven wise men
of Greece, nearly 600 years before Christ;
again by Demetrius Poliorcetes in 300 B. C.,
and once more by Julius Caesar in 50 B. C.
It was actually begun by Nero, who em-
ployed among other laborers 6,000 Jews
Whom Vespasian had taken prisoners, and
it is to be finished by Gen. Tucr, a Polish
engineer who was in the Italian service
WithGaribaldi, and who hopes to have it
ready for use by 1892. He has carried on
the Work from the point at which Nero
left off, following the latter’s lines and
making use of a double row of thirty-two
pits, some of them 130 feet deep, which had ‘
remained unchanged for 1,800 years, except
that theyhad become filled with debris.
The excavation now reaches from sea. to
sea, and is in some places. 225 feet deep.
Thecanal is to be over 75 feet Wide at the
top and 260 feet in depth at the oint where
the isthmus is highest—Buffet o Courier.
.-.~.,... n--. ...._
DAMAGING EVIDENCE
UNRELIABILITY OF CIRCUMSTANTIAL
TESTIMONY AT TIMES.
{‘1 Dian Is Hanged “'iw Could Have Sent
His Hired Man to the Gallows Had llc
Suspected the Latter Iinew His Secret.
He Had the Confidence of lilany Friends.
A party of men who had been discussing
the abolition of the death penalty, and one
of the number had just told of an cxccw
tion by hanging of which he had been a
witness, when John T. McDonough rc-
marked:
“I have seen just one hanging in my life,
and I issued the warrant for the arrest of
the man I saw hanged. It was rather a. re-
markable case, and it taught me always to
look upon purely circumstantial evidence
:13 not very good.”
“How is that? Let us hear the case,”
said one of the party. .
“\Vell, it was like this. It was in 187:3; I
vas quite young then, and had just been
elected police justice in Dunkirk. One
morning a German whom I knew came to
me, bringing with him a Polandcr, and
said: .
“ ‘This man tells a very strange story;
either he is crazy or else a murder has been
cor..mitted in Jamestown} ,
“Naturally I was interested at once,,and
questioned the German. The Pole could
not speak English, but he spoke a dialect
of German, and had made his story intelli-
gible t0 the German. The Pole’s story, as
interpreted to me, was about like this:
“He had been working for a man named
Marlow, a well known brewer in J amcs—
town, who stood well in the community.
Some days previous an acquaintance of his
named Bachman had been stopping with
him at Marlow’s house. Marlow and Bach-
mau had gone about town together consid-
erably and had become quite well acquaint-
ed, apparently, in so short a time. One
evening Marlow asked the Pole if Bach-
man had any money about him. The Pole
replied that he thought he had. He
thought Marlow’s question a queer one at
the time, but soon forget about it until
subsequent events recalled it to his mind.
SUSI’ICIOUS ACTIONS.
“The next day the Pole was working
about Marlow’s place as usual when Mar-
low and Bachman came up from the vil-
lage together. Bachman carried a parcel.
\Vhen they reached the house theywent
into the cellar together, and remained
there a long time. Then the Pole heard
what sounded to him like a shot. Soon
afterward Marlow came out of the cellar
alone. About that time some one drove up
with a wagon to get a barrel of beer. In—
stead of sending the Pole into the cellar
for it, as he usually did, Marlow went him-
self to fetch it. 'ythn he reappeared with
it the Pole noticed a spot of blood upon it
and another on Marlow’s clothing. Then
he began to think that something awful
had been done. After the customer had
' driven away with his beer Marlow ordered
the Pole to hitch up a team and drive to
the woods after a load of wood. This order
added to the Polo’s suspicions, for there
was no particular need of going for wood
at that time. However, he went.
“\V'hen he returned, one of the first
things he noticed was that there had been
a fire in the furnace under the brewing
kettle. The embers were still smolder-
ing." There was another strange circum-
stance. No brewing had been done. There
was a quantity of water in the kettle which
had become heated, but that was all. The
Pole, who, though he could not speak in
English, could think and reason quite flu-
ently in Polish, began to put together all
that he had heard and seen that seemed to
him unaccountable or strange, at least, and
drew from it a conclusion that was as yet
vague, but suggested something horrible.
THE HIRED MAN TELLS.
“The next morning the Polo asked Mar-
low to allow him to take a day off. He
said it was a holiday among his people and
he wanted to visit some of his acquaint—
ances. Marlow gave his consent, and the
Pole started off. Instead of visiting his
friends he took the first train for Dunkirk
and sought for some one to tell his story to.
For a long time he was unsuccessful, as no
one could understand him. Finally he
found the German, who brought him to
me.
“ Vell, you may believe that the story
impressed me. It was told in a straight-
forward manner, and there was nothing
about the man to indicate mental derange-
ment. Still I hesitated to issue a warrant,
for Marlow, as I said, was a citizen of good
standing, and it seemed impossible that he
could have committed such a crime. I
went to an old judge, to whom I frequent-
ly applied for advice, and laid the matter
before him. He listened with great inter-
est. ‘Issuc the warrant,’ he said. I took
the necessary affidavits, filled out the war-
rant and gave it to an officer, with instruc-
tions to go to Jamestown with it. When
we reached the depot where the train was
ready and about to start we learned that
Marlow’s brother-in—law, who lived in Dun—
kirk, was already aboard. Evidently he
had got wind of what was going on, and
was going to warn Marlow. “Te had him
taken from the train and detained while
the officer went on. To make sure, we tel-
egraphed t0 the Jamestown authorities to
arrest Marlow for murder. In a short time
we received an answer in the form of a
question. ‘Do you mean Marlow, the
brewer?’ said the dispatch. ‘Yes, Marlow,
the brewer,’ we replied.
PERFECT FAITH IN THE MURDERER.
“\Vhen our officer reached Jamestown
Marlow was under arrest nominally. The
Whole affair was regarded as a joke, how-
ever. Marlow’s friends chuffed him and
he laughed loudest at their raillery. Our
officer presented his papers. The deputy
who had arrested Marlow looked them
over. ‘Your papers are all right, but you’re
all wrong; Marlow wouldn’t hurt a fly,’ he
said. ’Then our officer told his story. A
party started to examine the ashes in Mar-
low’s furnace. In a. few moments some
one had found a kneecap. Bones of fingers
and other portions of a human skeleton
were discovered. Then there was no more
chatting, and Marlow was under arrest in
earnest.
“On the trial the defence admitted the
killing, but said that it was done by Mar-
low’s wife, who struck Bachman on the
head with a hammer because he insulted
her mother while Marlow was away from
home. But after the killing had once been
admitted the jury took no stock in that
story, especially in view of the testimony
given by the Pole. Marlow was convicted
and hanged.
“I thought then, and I still think, that if
Marlow had had any suspicion that the
Pole suspected him and intended to inform
the authorities he couldhave turned the
charge against the Pole Without any diffi-
culty. If a man of’Marlow’s standing had
accused the Pole of murdering Bachman—
he would have had his Wife corroborate
Whatever story he‘ might have prepared-—
nothing in the world: could have saved the
Pole from the allows. Since then I
have thou ht litt e of circumstantial evi-
dence.”— bany Express. '
NATIVE FLOWERS,
Let the Children Learn to Know and
Love and Nurture.
A woodsy looking bunch of wild flowers,
interspersed with feathery fir tips and with
ferns and brake and grasses for foliage,
sent to The Santa Cruz Surf, led to the
offer of a prize to the county school out-
side of the cities of Santa Cruz and W'at-
sonvillc which shall send in the largest
variety of wild flowers grown in the
county.
The bunch of flowers mentioned above
came from Laurel school. and contained
the following varieties: Eszzhscholtzia. col-
umbine, iris, lady’s slipper, clog roses, clin-
tonia, wild salvia. Indian pink, buttercup,
painted buttercup, Mariposa lily or “hare
bell,” Solomon’s seal and thimblc berry
blossoms.
In connection with the subject ofwild
flowers, adds The Surf, it may be mentioned
that San Francisco has had a severe attack
of admiration 'for the country beauties
amounting to a. fashionable craze. The
origin of this new born admiration for the
more delicate and ephemeral beauty of the
wood blossoms and field flowers is really
due to the work of that pioneer floral ar-
tiste, Miss Mary D. Bates, who has for a
number of years been educating the Four
Hundred up to this point of appreciation.
Only a few years ago San Francisco soci-
ety still clung for its decoration to the
hearts and darts and wreaths and lyres
made of stiff wire and stuffed heterogene-
ously with the most expensive conservatory
blossoms. Then there wandered into some-
body’s house aquict but exceedingly deter-
mined little maiden, who had started to
get her living honestly, with a certain
heaven sent talent that she possessed. She
startled the guests at the next entertain-
ment. by making of the house a symphony
in wild flowers. Great masses of glowing
eschseholtzias for one room, studies in but-
tcrcups and ferns for another, palest Mari-
posa lilies nodding'out of cool green cor-
ners—and so on, making a. revelation that
created a revolution, and was a. liberal edu—
cation to Mary Bat‘cs’ patrons. -
The successful artiste, learned in the lore
of the woods and dearly loving the flower
tapestried fields of a California, spring, is
glad to acknowledge that she has found the
Santa Cruz mountains a. school of art for
herself—a storehouse whence she has
drawn not only her inspiration but much
of the material with which she has wrought
out her finest fancies. For several years
she has passed her vacations camping near
this city with a company of congenial
friends and relatives. They have gathered
stores for winter use, and have sent car
loads of comfort to the sick and poor of
San Francisco in the shape of flowers,
ferns and wildwood treasures for the Flow-
er mission, thc Young Men’s Christian as-
sociation and other helpful organizations.
Now the demand for Wild flowers in San
Francisco is so great that from the time
the first wild “poppies” flame out their
gold in January in sheltered fence corners
till the last azalca hides its blossoms away
' from September dust and sunshine two or
three establishments in the city have all
they can do to supply the demand, and
many a. country maiden and farmer’s boy
has earned a coveted new gown or a yearned
for book by gathering and sending the once
half despised blossoms. "
Let the children learn to know and love
and care for the native flowers of their na-
tive state. It will elevate and refine them
more than any other thing.
The Population of Africa.
And under the name of the Independent
State of Congo its government was organ-
ized after the most approved methods of
Belgian administration, and it entered
fully equipped into the family of nations.
There is within its area, which, as said, is
thirty-three times that of Belgium, 3. popu-
lation of 450 whites, about one-half state
officials and employes, and the estimated
number of natives within its borders is
about 40,000,000; and in the whole Congo
basin is estimated at about 50,000,000.
Africa. is about three times the area. of
Europe, or 12,000,000 square miles, and
some writers estimate it to contain
about an equal population—325,000,000
souls, The enormous trade developing
there comes mainly from the narrow sel-
vagc which separates the mountains from
the sea. It is a great basin, composed of
plateaus, gradually ascending to 7,000 feet
at some of the central lakes. It has four
great river systems. On the west the Con-
go, second only to the Amazon in the
volume of its waters, and the Niger; on the
north the Nile; on the east the Zambesi.
These rivers once formed vast internal
seas, which finally breaking through the
mountain barriers have descended by
cataracts and canyons to the ocean, leaving
great areas of rich deposits of wonderful
fertility—Col. Henry Sanford in Forum.
A DIodcru Need for Sleep.
There is not one man or woman in ten
thousand who can afford to do Without
seven or eight hours’ sleep. All those
stories written about great men and women
who slept only three or four hours a night
make very interesting reading; but I tell
you, my readers, no man or woman ever
yet kept healthy in body and mind for a '
number of years with less than seven
hours’ sleep. Americans need more sleep
than they are getting. This lack makes
them so nervous and the insane asylums so
populous. If you can get to bed early
then rise early. If you cannot get to bed
till late than rise late. It may be as
Christian for one man to~risc at 8 as it is
for another to rise at 5. I counsel my
readers to get up when they are rested.
But let the rousing bell be rung at least
thirty minutes before your public appear-
ance. Physicians say that a sudden jump
out of bed gives irregular motion to the
pulse. It takes hours to get over a too
sudden rising. Give us time after you call
us to roll over, gaze at the world full in
the face and look before we leap—T. De
Witt Talmage in Ladies’ Home Journal.
What He Needed.
Government Official—One of your young
men was very impertinent to me just now
just because I asked him some questions.’
I Wish you’d order some spring lamb for
him.
Director of the Mint—Spring lamb?
Government Official—Yes, that goes with
mint sass, doesn’t itP-New York Ledger.
London gossips have it that Mr. Stanley
made known his engagement in the follow-
ing manner: Mr. Stanley observed to a.
friend that he W0uld,be in London during
J uly to attend a-weddi‘ng, after whichhe
would go to Scotland. “Your wedding?”
asked the friend, jokingly. “Yes,”‘replied
Stanley, “I’m going-to marry'Miss Dorothy
Tennant. ’ ’
O
A quick firing gumthe invention of Mr.
Thronsen, was Wed recently at Finspong,
in Sweden. The results‘ showed that ten
shots can be fixed within gtvjventy-five sec«
onds, which is twenty-fourjshots a. minute.
All the shots were true and‘hit the target
within a space: of nine inches long by six
inches wide. '
|
.7"... . . . ,- .— .- - l
, ._ ...
The White House Silver.
Women all over the land know how it is ,
not to have enough silver knives and forks T
to go round', and they have all felt thevan- ‘
guish of seeing the most distinguished .
guest get the plated one by mistake. But .5
who would dream that the White House i
would not have enough knives and forks
to go around, and yet it is true. Every time
fifty people sit down to a state dinner there
two of them take their bouillon from
plated spoonsftheir terrapin from plated
forks and cut the fillet of beef with plated
knives.
It is a horrible thought, but there are
only four dozen genuine silver knives,
forks and spoons in the butler’s pantry,
and by the most skillful ingenuity they
cannot be made to do duty for fifty people.
There is one set of knives and forks in the
sideboard which has a history, for it cost a
president his re—clection. These are the
gold knives and forks which Van Buren
added, and when the people learned that
the public moneys were being taken to put
gold spoons in president’s months they
promptly defeated him.
Now, the truth of the matter 'is that
they are not gold at all, and the people
were hasty in their judgment. They are
solid silver washed with gold, and it was
only a few years ago—in President Arthur’s
day—that they began to wear off and dis-
close the hoax. He had them rewashed
and they are still used on state occasions.
They are small, fine bladed and much more
delicate than those commonly in use in this
day. Many of the larger pieces of silver
date back to Madison’s day, although no
memoranda have been kept, and it is hard
to tell when things were purchased—Cor.
New York \Vorld.
\__
A Table on Tick.
Senator Ingalls’ office furniture recalls a
story which Senator Mitchell told me about
his early legal experiences in Oregon.
Mitchell had just 85 in his pocket when he
reached Portland, but 110 registered at the
hotel as though he was a. millionaire and
engaged rooms which cost him $20 a week.
He rented a little 8 by 10 office which had
no furniture Whatever in it, and he spent
his $5 for a volume of the statutes of Ore-
gon, and this constituted his whole library.
He found he could get trusted for his board
and his rent, but he was at a loss as to fur-
niture.
A friend of his gave him two chairs and
he went to a carpenter and asked him to
make a table for him on tick. The carpen-
ter coolly replied that he did not do busi-
ness in that way and Mitchell finally ob-
tained the use of a desk in the adjoining
office. He put out his shingle, and at the
end of that year he had twenty—six out of
the fifty~two cases that came before the
court. His practice grew steadily, and
citizens of Portland tell me that he was
soon making $40,000 a year. He had one
client, Ben Halliday, who paid him $10,000
a year for a number of years, and he still
makes some of the biggest fees of the
country—Frank G. Carpenter in Philadel-
phia Press.
Is the American Boy Too Slow?
I have two boys in my employ ano
amuse myself watching their ways. They
are about the same ago. One is an Amer-
ican boy and the other is English. The
American boy likes to take things easily.
\Vhen I send him out on an errand he
comes back when he gets ready, and al-
ways has some excuse. The English boy
comes back looking scared to death, if he
thinks he has been gone over time. The
other night I asked them if they would like
to make some extra money. They said
they would, and I loaded them With libret-
tos of the German opera. and told them
Where to go to sell them. On the follow-
ing morning the English boy brought back
his money and no books. He made $3.15
for himself. The American boy said that
he hadn’t sold any. That he wanted to go
to a show himself and didn’t want to make
any extra money. There you have an ex-
ample of the average American boy of to-
day. He is letting the boy from the other.
country get ahead of him, because the
American boy wants to have a. good time.
This is my observation, and it is not con-
fined to the two boys of whom I speak,
eithcr.—Interview in Chicago Herald.
Action of Mildew on Cotton Fabrics.
Owing to its comparative freedom from
impurity cotton may be stored for a long
period without undergoing any change,
more especially if it is bleached and kept
dry. \thn, however, it is contaminated
with added foreign organic matter, such
as starch, gum, etc. (as in finished calicoes),
and then exposed to a moist, warm atmos
phere,.it is very liable gradually to become
tender or rotten. This is owing to the
growth of vegetable organisms of avery
low order called mildew. These fungi
feed upon the starchy matters present, in-
ducing their decomposition, and after
some little time the cotton fibers them-
selves are attacked. The simultaneous
production of crenic, humic, ulmic and
other organic acids may possibly assist
somewhat in the tendering process—New
York Telegram.
A liIodel Detective Camera.
The perfect detective camera should be
all that the name implies, and the name
manifestly becomes a misnomer when the
camera is incased in a yellow wooden box.
There are certain kinds of satchel cameras
made that to all outward appearances are
simply “grips,” but by far one of the best
of the late inventions is acamera in the
shape of a book. It has three compart-
ments, each supplied with a. lens, and-When
a roll of gelatine film is placed in each sec-
tion the capacity of the book reaches 300
exposures. Carried under the arm 3. ca-
mera. of this description has such an inno-
cent appearance that no one gives it a
glance. It could be carried among a gang
of thieves, exposures could be made, and
the operator could depart Without suspicion
of the real use of his book—New York
Evening Sun.
‘ Thrifty French Vine Growers.
The French vine growers are still the in-
dustrious, thrifty race which they were in
the days when Arthur Young was among
them taking notes; but it is since then that
they have learned the advantages of com-
bination. A striking evidence of this is
found in the development among them of
associations for mutual aid in case of acci-
dents, sickness and death. Our consul,
Mr. Ward, estimates'the number of these
in the department of the Gironde alonaas
about 500, of which 403 are exclusively
men’s and 38 exclusively women’s clubs,
while - 59 welcome both sexes—London
News. .
That Awful Boy.‘
Mr. Hankinson lifted the young lady’s
little brother in his arms and tossed him
up in the air.
“Say, Irene,” called out Johnny after
this performance had been repeated sev-
eral times, “he’s got a. little place on‘the
back part of his head just like my china
saucer!” ' ~
And then Mr. Hankinson put ' little,
Johnny down—Chicago Tribune.
WANTED.
1 100
Tons of Hay and
Straw.
Highest Cash Price Paid.
Hm SALE]!
Grain.
Flour,
, Feed.
Small Stove Goal.
Peat Moss Stable
Bedding.
Drain Pipe,
Fire Brick,
it
&c., &c.
South Norwalk.
Bl
To Inventors.
GEO. R. BYlNGTON
OFFICE :
Cor. lnuisiana Ave. and lth St.
Washington, D. 0.,
wives his PersonalAttention to Procvring
Patents for inventions
n the U. S. Patent. Ofice and all Fcreign
Countries.
An experience of nearly ten years In the Patent
Otnce has given him a perfect familiarity with
every classification of invention and the particular
EXAMINERS AND BUREAUS, to which each
and every invention is referred. He has a com-
plete familiarity with the Rules of Practice
the Records Models, &c., &c., &c., and
every detail of the omce, and GIVES HIS PER-
SONAL ATTENTION to the interests of his
Clients. Being on the ground, and visiting the
Patent Office daily, he can serve Inventors
securing their Letters Patent far more advanta
geously than Solicitors who do not reside in
Washington.
Searches and Rejected
Applications
A Specialty. To all those whose applications
have been rejected, he will make an examination
and report on the same gratuitously. Prelimin-
ary examination of the Patent Office Records,
prior to an application for a patent, will be made
foravery small charge, and advice or informa~
tion in regard to patents will be given in full
detail in acircular which will be mailed free or
charge to every applicant. He has specia‘
facilitiesaiso for
Procuring Patents in Foreign
' Countries
He refers to any officer of the Patent Office, and
o the many Connecticut Inventors for whom he
ta done business and taken out LETTERS PATENT
Norwalk ~2~ Gazette
JOB PRINTING ESTABLISHMENT.
Wedding Cards, Posters,
Visiting Cards, Handbills,
Business Cards, Programmes,
Fancy Show Cards, Dodgers,
Ball Cards, Billheads,
Statements, Circulars,
Tag Cards, Receipts
Town and Probate Records,
Books and Pamphlets, Note Headings,
Hotel Registers. Milk Tickets,
Printed in the Neatest Styles and at the Lowes
Pr ces.
GENERAL BLACKSMITHING
Carriage ani‘Wann Building and
Repairing, Paintinl, Trimming,
&C., co, co.
THE subscriber having purchased the entire
establishment known as Rockwell’s Shop. in
the rear of George S. Gregory’s Livery Stable,
will continue the business there of;
General Blacksmith Work, Wagon, Car-
riage, Sleigh, &c., building, repairing,
painting, trimming, &c.,
in addition to his established
HORSE SHOEIN G
business at the old stand. "‘
mGOOD WORK, FAIR PRICES, PROMPT-
NESS AND FAIR DEALING GUARANTEED and
a share of the public patronage respectfully
solicited. _
311144.. CHARLES E. MILLER.
WAY’S OLD FASHIONED
lT'OMllGH BITTEllil
Aretha Best Spring Tonic. Large Bottles, 31.
Sample bottles free, at
A? HALE’S CORNERZDRUG STORE.
Letter Headings
Norwalk Chronicler