Download - BY HUGHWILSON AND W.C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, 8. -VOLUME XXV.€¦ · 17 T7wCaO»ct» ^> ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER..:Y5^V-V-; i|BYHUGHWILSONANDW.C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, 8. C., WEDNESDAY, MAY

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Page 1: BY HUGHWILSON AND W.C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, 8. -VOLUME XXV.€¦ · 17 T7wCaO»ct» ^> ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER..:Y5^V-V-; i|BYHUGHWILSONANDW.C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, 8. C., WEDNESDAY, MAY

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ABBEVILLE PRESS & BANNER. i|BY HUGH WILSON AND W. C. BENET. ABBEVILLE, 8. C., WEDNESDAY, MAY 22, 1878. NO. 50. -VOLUME XXV.

The World."

, the world is boautifal, bright and fair?And a merry laugh rang out on the air,As the little one tumbled the new-mown hay,Chasing the butterflies, bright and gay;Bat the sun went down, and he dropped his

head,For the pretty things in hid hand lay dead.

" Oh, the world is beautiful, bright and fair!'And the maiden shook her golden hair,And she swoetly smiled, as the lily and rose

Mid the shining tresses she deftly wove;But the lover came not to claim his bride,And the thorns remained, and the roses died.

"Oh, the world is beautiful, bright and fair !*And the young mother softly breathed a prayerAs she nestled her baby close to h^r breast,And iia murmurines eentlv soothed to rest;Bat the Father had need of one angel more,And he opened for it the heavenly door.

" Oh, the world is beantifal, bright and fair !'8ighed the aged one with silvery hair,"But over it aJl ia the serpent's trail.With the merry laugh cornea the mournful wail:I but tarry awhile till the summons come

To join my beloved in our heavenly home."

CALLED TO ACCOUNT.

A DETECTIVE *S STORY.

Borne years ago, when I was quitea young man, I was sent down to Evan'sCorners, about a big robbery that hadoccurred, and while I was there, workingthe thing up, my attention was atff mVl T ncfl/1 fa cna ofKUUtCU UJ Ck pviIVJ 5111 A. UPVU KV OUV uw

the hotel where I stopped. Nobodycould help noticing her, she was such a

beauty. Her hair and eyes were verydark, but her skin was as fair as a lily,with just a dash of red that came and"went in her cheeks. Her form was

Blender, but well rounded, and her bandwas as white and finely formed as anylady's in the land. Her name was RoseWynne, and of course^ she had plentyof admirers, but she coquetted with themall However there were two who were

a long way ahead of the others. I usedto wonder which she liked the best, butI could never guess, for while she smiledsweetly on one, she would fling a merryword at the other, and so on. Bothyoung men were-good looking.one fair,the other dark.arid both were carpenters.One was called Andrew Davis,and the other Mark Sheldon.Sheldon was a jealous fellow, and

showed it. Davis was jealous, too, butdidn't show it so plain. Sheldon was

always in a quarrel with her. Davis, Ifancied, was angry enough at her coquetteriessometimes to eat her, but he neverlet on.Rose Wynne knew I was a detective,

and had a sort of awe and cariosity aboutme. Many a yarn I told her, some trne,Boms not. It was so pretty to see herbig eyes kitidle and grow bigger.

I used to joke her sometimes and tryand discover which she liked best, Davisor Sheldon. But she would never tellme."See hero, Rose," I said to her one

day when she had been playing thosetwo chaps off against each other prettylively, "you'll have those foolish fellowsfighting about you if you're not careful."

"I'm much more afraid of one of themfighting me," she laughed." Which one ?*' I asked, laughing too;

but I thought of Davis' glowering looks." Gness," she said."They've both got temper, too much

of it.""Andrew Davis hasn't much temper,"she said."I shouldn't like to be in your skin

if you ever jilt him for the other," Ianswered."Why not?" she asked."Never mind," I said; "but if you

ever make up your mind to marry anybodybeside Andy Davis, don't do itwhile he's around.that's all."Rose glanced to where Davis was

standing, at the other end of the ver-

Bddati, waccnmg us, inougn ne pretendednot. Then she looked back atme.

"Well, you're solemn enough aboutit," she said; "any one would thinkyou meant it."

< We both laughed, but I said, shakingmy head:"You know that I do mean every

word."v "Well, I'll tell you what 111 do,"

said Rose. "If any harm ever comesto me through either of them, I'll promiseto come to you, Mr. Sharpe, or sendmy* ghost to tell you who did it. Andyou must hunt him down for it. Willyou promise me that ?"

"Yes, I will," I said ; " and there's, my hand upon it."

And we shook hands, had a laugh overit, ana- tnougnt tnat trie last 01 n 01

oourse. Well, I went away soon after,: and it was a year almost to a day beforev. I ever saw the plaoe again. Then I hadalmost forgotten there was such a personas Rose Wynne.The case I was on was a very importantone, and I didn't wart it known I

was around at all. So I had disguisedmyself in a farmer kind of rig, that Idon't believe my own mother wouldhave known me in. I had stopped at a

cheap lodging house at the end of thetown, because I suspected some of thegang I was after frequneted it.

I'd had my supper, and prune to myroom to sit by the window and etudv a

bit about the business iu haad. I am

positive I wasn't thinking of Ro?eWynne. I don't believe I had thoughtof her since 1 got there, my head was sofull ol business.My room was on the grouud floor, and

tfce window was open, it was growingdusk. It wasn't a very nice part of thetown.lots of ronghs about, you know ;so when I saw a woman standing all atonce there under my window.alone too.I though it was very queer ; bnt whenshe looked up, and I saw it was RoseWynne, I thought that was queerer yet.She was all in black, even her head

was wound about with thick folds ofblack, and never had I seen her so sadand solemn. She came close to thewindow and looked up at me." Mr. 8harpe?" she said.I jumped ; for you see I did not

think anv one world know me. fixedup as I was, and I said in a whipper :"Is it really you, Rose? Don't

speak loud, please, for I don't wantto be known here."She went right on without seeming

to have heard me." Harm has come to me," she said,

"and it was Andy Davis. Rememberyour promise."And then, all in a flash, she tvas gone,

and I couldn't have told -where, np,down, or 'round the corner of the house;only she'd gone, and I hadn't seen her

goAs I sat staring out. with her wordsgoing through and through my head,I began to feel kind of creepy and odd.Now> I don't believejany onewho knowsme would call me 'superstitious. Rutall at once, as I sat there, it came overme that may be I had seen Rose Wvnne's

- » « » i 1/1 rti i Sgnost instead 01 nerseu. one naa certainlyspoken and looked very strangelyfor a' living woman.Then I laughed at myself for the

t»noy."Bharpo, old fellow," said I, "you

know there are no suoh things as ghosts.What in the name of common sense are

you dreaming of?"And I put on my coat and hat and

went out into the town to see if I could

learu anything about the business I had tlcome down there npou. frEvery now and then as I walked along in

in the davkness the thought of Rose g<Wynne would come over me with a kind k<of thrill, and I seemed to hear her say- fning:

_

m

"Remember your promise."scI tried to shake off the impressiou, w

but all to no purpose, and at last I stop- faped into a store and said to a clerk, a

fellow whom I recognized as one of alRose's old admirers: w

"Is there a young girl living round d<here by the name of Rose Wynne? ni'Cause I've got a letter for her." hi"Then you've got a letter for a dead ne

woman," he said. "Rose Wynne is w

dead; drowned in the river." to" Who did it ?" I asked, turning di

cold. bi" Did it herself. I sunnose. I never df

heard of any one else being accused of w!it.""And why should she? Where is fu

Andy Davis?" I blurted out, before I or

knew what I was about. j lit" Oh, Andy went away over so long hi

ago. I guess Rose and he were engaged, jIt was thought that they quarreled maybe,and that was why she drowned her-self." I

I did not continue the conversation fbbut left the store and went back to my inroom. , piThat night I dreamed that Rose came de

to my bedside, and stood looking at me g*just 'as she had under my window, andsaid: ta" It was Andy Davis; remember your at

promise." I hiWell, I made some more inquiries TI

round and I found the general impres- J is!sion was that Rose had drowned herself, krjust as the clerk had told me. The bodyhad never been found, but she was bjmissing, and her handkerchief andgloves, and the hat she wore the night dishe diaappeared, were picked up on tho d«river bank. The water was very swift m

liprp anil it was eenerallv believed thebody had drifted out to the lake. at

Well, I had some pretty curious re

thoughts. Was Bose dead or wasn't she? beAt all events there was a mystery, and { anI was just the fellow to ferret it out. fa<The first thing was to find Andy Davis. w<

So, just as soon as I had got through m

the business I was on, I started on his bltrack. i T1

I was obliged to hunt for him much *0:

longer than I expected; but I found him "e

at last. The longer I looked for him 8ythe more I suspected he had something °*

ugly on his mind. People with clear ne

consciences ain't, as a general thing, so ov

hard to find. Well, as I said, I found an

him at last, working on a farm, and hea carpenter by trade. He was a gooi "(

two hundred miles from Evan's Corners, ^and he'd got a new name besides that.He called himself Thompson, but he

couldn't Thompson me. I knew him titthe minute I put my eyes on him. He °*

was at supper with the man he was work- ^ing for and the other farm hands, and I °*

stood and watched him through the 'co

kitchen window some miuutes. He'dchanged a good deal, got thin and yel- jlow, and had a sort of hunted look in 8a.his eyes, that settled his case for me bathen and there. I never saw that look ftbin an innocent man's face. | baThe kitchen door stood open, and I

walked in without any ceremony, and W£

going directly up to him I laid my hand; on his shoulder. j Oi

44 r1/\ t?Aii /lr* Afr TWvifl Rdirl RG1

I. You should have seen him. I've had ^r<some experience with frightened men. Pcbut I can safely say with truth, that I ^never saw one so scared as he was. I m<

never in my life saw a face turn so thwhite as his did. First he jumped up ^hand looked round as if he was going to 11(5

run, then he sat clown again anil set his P1teeth hard. You see, he recognized meand knew that I was a detective." My name ain't Davis," said he,

glowering at mo with eyes like coals."I don't know you, sir.""Your name is Davis, and I know

you if you don't know me." I answeredin a low voice. " Who do you suppose £«sent me here after you ?"

'

His eyes almost jumped out of his 8"

head, and his teeth would chatter in *h

spite of himself. *r<"Rose Wynne sent me," I went on;

"you know what for." e<*

When I said that, the wretch fell onhis knees and fairly howled for mercy. a°

j "I'll confess," he shrieked, "I killed a°

her, I did. I'd sworn Sheldon shouldn't °*have her, and I killed her to keep her aPfrom marrying him. She said she'd ex

hunt me for it. She said she'd come out 6U

of her grave to hang me, and she has .vakept her vow."I took him back to Evans Corners

as fast as we could travel, and lodgedhim in the prison there.The trial came'off in due time. There |n

wasn't one atom of evidence tha$ he did ')r

the deed, except his own confession to an

me. He hadn't opened his lips to any m(

ain/iA. n-nA tpliori ViATcoo nallorl nnnn Gf!VUC D1JJV/C y UUU TTUVU UV » vnimvv*

(to plead "Guilty, or not guilty," thevil- I10lian answered, "Not guilty," after all. PjAs he said the words, there waa a

slight stir among the crowd behind him. JeHe looked round, and something he saw ca

there turned his face chalky. na

He gave a sort of gasp, staggered j"'upon his feet, and fairly screamed out" Guilty H' and fell down in a fit.They carried him out writhing and 8a

foaming at the mouth, and as they did sa

so, a woman dressed in black came for-;ward and threw back her vail It was

Rose Wynne alive and standing before 1'aus more beautifnl than ever." He tried to kill me," she said. " It;

was not his fault that he did not sue- P®ceed. I had been engaged to marry Mr. ^Sheldon a long time, but because myfather was opposed to him and favoredMr. Davis, we had kept the engagement :1Ga secret from every one. I had gone out 10

that night, by appointment, to meet my n,oromised husband, and as I was crossintr a '

on the railroad bridge, over the rivei\ .V°Andrew Davis came from the other Bideand met me. He told me if I did not< j113Eromise to marry him then and there J®1e'd throw me over the bridge into the "E

water. I was always afraid of him; he I11had such a savage look in his eyes some- ^times, and I knew him to be terribly ^hjealou3 of Mark Sheldon. Bnt 1 would *r<not promise him anything of the kind. ^I could not believe he would really carry Srout his threat, and I expected' Markwould come every minute." When ho took hold of me, and I saw

he was in earnest, and really intended mto drown mo, I struggled with him, and thtold him if he did harm me, I'd have hshim hung for it, if I had to come out of IImy grave to do it. And I also told him AiI was going to marry Mark Sheldon, and Ythat I had come ortt there to meet him. C:For I thought perhaps it would scare iahim if he thought Mark was anywhere giaround. Bnt he suddenly snatched my P.shawl off me and wonnd it round my bphead to keep my screams from being Eheard, and the next moment he lifted me m

in his arms and threw me over into the olriver. He did not know that I was an ttexpert swimmer ; but before I conld free Gmyself from the folds of the shawl I had Hgone under the water twice. The second gitime I rose to the surface I swam toward w

the bank, but the current was so swift I hiwould inevitably have, been drowned if a

Mark had not come just theD, in time to ftsave me. Davis had mn away as fast 0'

as he oould, and he did not know that s'hehad failed in killing *me, after all. ftThe shock was a dreadful one to me, n

and my fear of Andy Davis was so e:

great that I begged Mark to hide me \from him, and from every one, and let o

it be suDDOsed that I was dead. SiSfJC

ten we were married, and went awayom this part of the country for severalouths, till we heard that Davis hadDne away, when we returned. Bnt I»pt close, and let no one but my own>lks know I was alive, for I was deterinedthat Davis should be punished inirne manner. So I never went outithout a thick doxible veil over myce, for I was afraid of Davis yet."Then, one evening, I was ridingong in a carriage, with my husband,heu I paw Mr. Sharpe sitting at a win)w.He was disguised, but I recogzedhim, and I remembered that heid ouee promised to help me if I ever;eded his services. So I went up to theindow quietly, and spoke to him, andId him about Davis, and that is all. Idn't waut the man hung, of course;

T lu.tin ttaiil>n ollnirfj/l in milr-

sr me, as I am sure lie will want toben be finds I atn not dead."But Davis was past doing any one auyrtherinjury. The wretch went fromle fit into another, ami finally died,;erally frightened to death. And so

s sin had certainly found him out.

The Boiling Lake of Dominica.Dominica, the most mountainous ofe Lessor Antilles, is about thirty mileslength by sixteen in breadth. The

lysical formation of the island is insscribablyrugged, and the scenerymerallv is of the most varied andautiful character. The highest mounin.Morne Diablotin, is 4,533 feet>ove the level of the sea, or a littlegher than Ben Nevis, in Scotland,tiere are several large rivers iu theland, bnt its interior is still littlelown, although nearly 400 years haveaDsed since the discovery or the islandr Columbus A correspondent of thelustrated London Neivs relates thescovery of the boiling lake, and the(tails of a recent journey to that rearkableplace:"We stood upon a large plateau of>ont fifty acres in extent, which is inality a small spur of what have sincesen "called tho Sulphur Hills. Hereid there over this plateau, on the surceof which is no vestige of vegetation,;re huge charred trunks of trees, largoasses of volcanic roek, and numberlessow-holes, ejecting steam and water.ie water, collecting from all sides,rmed in the center of this scene ofsolation a milk-white, impetuousream, discharging itsf. If over the edgethe plateau into the precipice beath.Picking our way cautiouslyer this volcanic bed of scoria, pumice,d sulphur, and jumping from rock to

1 1 1 A1 L

CK, wincu nere ana uierti jnuiruuwjm the stream, we crossed a firmaund of earth beyond, and unexpectlyfound onrselves at the edge of thetiling Lake. Here, then, at an eleva>nof about 2.400 feot above the leveltho sea, and on the southern side ofe Sulphur Hills, is the Boiling LakeDominica. It is a body of pale slateloredboiling water, inclosed in a cirlarbasin of about 150 yards in width,e sides of the basin being, I shouldv, about sixty feet in height. The.re summits of the Sulphur Hills riseout 500 feet above the edge of thesin, and from blow-hoies in the sidethe hills issue small quantities of

iter, which in their downward coursethe lake form two tributary rivulets,l arriving at the edge of the basin onees nothing but clouds of steam rising>m the lake. But the noise of theliling water is distinctly audible, andis only when a passing breeze for a

jment dissipates the clouds of steamat one sees boiling in vast bubblese body of water at one's feet. Thetually bpiling portion of the lakeast be in a circle of about forty feetdiameter, t>nd the bubbles rise, I

ould say, about three or four feet intoe air. The ripples caused by thedling break towards the surroundingore until they lave the sulphur-coatedjnes at the water's edge. The watericlf, it is curious to observe, has, neare shore, a circular motion, which, perps,to some extent, accounts for tbeape of the lake's basin; for I noticedat a small log thrown into the waterivelod round the lake, passing andpassing the spot at which it had enterthewater. The only apparent exitthe lake is on the southwestern side,d is not unlike a railway cutting.sayout nine feet in width/ The amountwater discharged through this exit isparently very small; but on closeramination I noticed an extensive Bubrfacedrainage, which, at about 200

a/vnfV> nf dm lnVo fnrma o Vipmit.i.iUO nv/uvu VI IUU AMUUj AV'AUJW m MVMMO*

1 waterfall.The Story of Maj-Day.

When the Romans came to Britain to'e, many hundred years ago, theyought, of couree, their own customs;d festivals, among which was one injmory of Flora, the Goddess of Flow3.The heathen.our ancesters, youiow.adopted them with delight, be5in the childhood of their race. Theycamo very popular; and when, somears later, a good priest, Gregory,me (from Rome also) to convert thetives, he wisely took advantage ofeir fondness for festivals, and not trygto suppress them, he simply alteredem from heathen feasts to Christianmes, by substituting the names ofints and martyrs for heathen gods andddesses. Thus the Flornlia becameay-day celebration, and lost none ofpopularity Dy tue cnauge. uq me

ntrary, it was carried on all over Engidfor ages, till its origin would haveen lost but for a few paius-taking olditers, who "made notes" of everying.The Floralin. we caro nothing for, butMay-day games have lasted nearly

our day, and some relics of it surviveour young country. When yon. crownMay queen, or go with a May party,u are simply following a custom thate Romans began, and that our remotecestors in England carried to suchigths, that not only ordinary peopl'oit lords and ladies, and even king andleen laid aside their state and went " a

aying " early in the morning, to washair fcmaa in ATo tt /Innr onrl Krinr* hrkmn

jsb boughs and flowers to deck theay-pole, which reared its floweryown in every village..St. Nicholas.

A Multifarious Title.The Czar of Russia is a much-titledonarch. The treaty of San Stefano,e full text of which has come to light,is the following : "We, Alexander., by the grace of God Emperor andutocratPanrassiau, Moscovite.Kievian,ladimirianNovgoradian.CJzar of Kazan,zar of Astrakhan, Polish Czar, SibernCzar, Czar of Chersonesus, GeoranCzar, Gosndar of Pskoff and Grandrince of Smolensk, Lithuania, Volrnia,Podolia and Finlaud ; Prince ofsthonia. Livonia. Cnrland. etc.. Com-nnder of the whole northern GosudarIberia, Kardalinia, the Kabardian andte Armenian territory; hereditaryosudar and Ruler of the Circassian andhighland Princes and others; NorwoianHeir-Apparent(?)Duke of Schlesig-Holsteinand Oldenburg, etc.,ereby declare that in consequence ofmutual agreement between us and his[ajesty the Emperor of the Ottomans,ar plenipotentaries concluded andgned at San Stefano, February 19,rfirfih 3 of this -vftar 1S7R the rirelimi-ary conditions of peace between twcmpires, which word for word ran thus "

bonder if th<i Czar pxe.-ts all that to beat into hifi monument!.Syracuse

DOWN TWO THOUSAND FEET.

Excltln* Detail* of a Trip to the Roya(iorcc of the (Jrnnd Canyon of the Arknn*aN In Colorado*

Lenving the hotel immediately following an early breakfast, a drive of twelv<mires brings us to the Grand Canyon o

the Arkansas. Disappointment is bitternnd feelings of resentment almost beyond control, as nowhere can the ey<discover the canyon. In the immediateforeground the pinion growth is rani

j and dense; just beyond, great blealridges of bare, cold rock contrast strongly with the profusion of foliage hidingeverything beneath from sight, whil<away in the dim distance the snow

crowned peaks of the continental divideare outlined sharp and clear against th<solid blue of the morning sky. Thougtgrand beyond anything we have seen iramazing extent of vision, the mind is sc

wrapped up in the anticipation of fnl!realization of the gloom, and v/istnest

* 1 r* i/iana solemn granueuroi mevjrruuu wtuyui

as to resent almost angrily the apparenlabsence. A half-dozen steps from theclump of pinion trees where the horsefhave been fastened, and all thoughts oiresentment, of disappointment and cha:grin vanish, and a very cry of absoluteterror escapes us. At our very feet ifthe canyon.another step would hurl ueinto eternity. Shuddering, we peeidown the awful elopes; fascinated, westeal a little nearer to circumvent a verj

j mountain that'has rolled into the chasm,and at last the eye reaches down thesharp incline 2,000 feet to the bed olthe river, the impetuous Arkansas, fortjto sixty feet in width, yet to us a mereribbon of molten silver. Though surgingmadly against its rocky sides, leap|ing wildly over gigantic masses of rock,and hoarsely murmuring against its prision bars Jwe see not, nor do we hear,aught of its fury. The solemn stillnessof death pervades the scene; the watersas we see them are as if polished, andas stationary as the mighty walls thatlook down on them from such fearfulheight. Fairly awed into a bravado as

reckless as it is strange to us, we crawlout upon tottering ledges to peer intosheer depths of uutold rnggedness; we

grasp with death-like clutch some overhanginglimb, and swing, out upon a

promontory, beside which the apex ofthe highest cathedral spire in the worldwould be as a sapling in height. Wecrawl where at home we would hardlydare look with telescope, and in themad excitement of the hour tread withperfect abandon brinks the barethought of which, in subsequent sobersenses makes us faint of heart and dizzyof head. Eager now for still greaterhorrors of depth, blind to everythingbut an intolerable desire to behold thomost savage of nature's upheavals, theshoit ride to the Royal Gorge is madewith illy-concealed impatience. If ourfirst experience upon the brink of theGrand Canyon was startling, this is abisolutely terrifying, and the bravest atthe same point became most abject ofcowards in comparison at tho other.At the first point of observation thowalls, though frightfully steep, arev»r»rrn»»f Jir»locc. olnwinnr +/ * a mnrfl nr laaaUVTWl-UVIVno ~

extent; here fit the Royal Gorge theyj are sheer precipiceB, as perpendicularas the tallest house, as straight as ifbuilt by line. So narrow is the gorgethat one would think the throwing of a

stone from side to side the easiest ofaccomplishments, yet no living man liasever done it, or succeeded in throwingany object so that it would fall into thewater below. Many tourists are contentwith the appalling view from the mainwalls, but others more venturesomework their way 600 to 1,000 feet downthe ragged edges of a mountain that hasparted and actually slid into the chasm ;and as we have to come to see it all, theclamber down must be accomplished.For some distance we scramble over andbetween monstrous boulders, and thenreach the narrow and almost absolutelyperpendicular crevice of a gigantic massof rock, down which we must let ourselves100 feet or more. As we reachthe shelf or ledge of rock upon whichthe great rock has fallen and been sundered,we glance back, but only for a

second.the thought of our daring mak-ing ub bick and dizzy. jbue a step or

two more and the descent just madesinks into ntter insignificance, comparedto what is before us. Then we had thehuge walls of the parted rock as therails t.t a staircase ; now we have naughtbut the smooth, rounded surface of thestorm-washed boulders to cling to, andon cither side of our narrow way depthsat the bottom of which a man's bodycould never be discovered with humaneye. Behind ns the precipitous rocksover and through which we came ; aheadof us the slender barrier of rock overhangingthe appalling chasm, and allthere exists between uh and it. Cowardsat heart, pale of face, and with painfulbreath, we slowly crawl on hands andknees to the ledge, and as the fated murdererfeels the knotted noose fall downover his head, so feel we us our eyes extendbeyond the rocks to catch one awfulglimpse of the eternity of space. Fewdare look moro than once, and one glancesuffices for a comprehension of themeauing of the word depth never beforeeven dreamed of, and never afterwardforgotten. The gorge is 2,008 feet sheerdepth, and most precipitous of any chasmon the continent. The opposite walltowers hundreds of feet above us, and ifpossible to imagine anything more terrifyingthan the position on this side, thatupon the other would be, were its brinksafe to approach. Overhanging crags,black and blasted at their summits, or

bristling with stark and gnarled pines,reach up into profoundly dizzy heights,while lower down monstrous rocksthreaten to topple and carry to destructionany foolhardy climber who wouldventure upon them. Among all thethousands who havo visited the GrandCanyon and the Royal Gorge, harm hasbefallen none, for despite the seeminghorror of the situation, the appallingdepths and rugged paths, the fascinationof the danger appears to give birth togreatest caution. The canyon, exceptin the dead of winter, is approachableonly from the top, the walls below beingso precipitous and the river bucIi a torrentas to defy all access. When frozen,as the waters are for brief periods duringthe coldest months, the way up the canyonmay be accomplished, but only althe risk of personal comfort and not tlittle danger.

Barisal Hung.On ft distant land in tho Bay of Ben

gal, according to a German scientificjournal, there is a phenomenon knowias the Barisal Gnn, which is often heartat the beginning of a rainstorm, and iflike the sound of distant cannonadingIt seems to have no connection with th<season, and sometimes comes from th<north, sometimes from tho south oisouthwest. A writer who has collectedsome data on the subject, comes to th<conclusion that these sounds are atmospheric and connected in some way wit?electricity. A tourist,in his letters fronthe villages of the Himalayas, describeexceedingly powerful noises heard ittho ourlv morninc. that can neither b<ascribed to avalanches nor explained trthe natives. Above the town of Koimbator, in Madras, on an elevation o

40,000 feet, is a pond from which Lirivani river springs,and which the native

' carefully shun,'because frightful noisoi> rise out of it and roll away among thi: hills. Some of the phenomena may b<

The Last of the Kites.Mr. D. Conway writes as follows from

i Stratford-on-Avon, England : Between. the beautiful old church in which reposesthe dust of Shakspeare and the. memorial Hall, stretches the garden of ^3 Avonbank villa, an:! nt the far end of it, mf close to the Avon, is an Orangery. Over

the door of this Orangery is perched a j(. large stone kite, an old piece of sculp- p(3 ture, who sits there as weirdly as if he q3 had flown from the Wild Huntsman's ®r

i wrist, and he looks round as vigilantlyc as if he had been set there on duty, as gr. stuffed kites are set on barns in remote qr regions of Bavaria as protectors from3 lightning. This bird was transferred ^

from ail old mansion winch used to stand ^beside the church, the residence of the ^once distinguished family of that name

(Kite) in Warwick. It used to be the ^fashion for families to choose emblems rjwhich punned upon their name. Of the ^wealthy and influential Kite family not ^ono representative now remains; and grthis carved bird is their only memorial,unless it'be found in a place some miles q^!away called the " Burnt House," whereno house stands, and the memory of a g|tragedy. For though the kite was

perched over the door of a family man- r-!sion, it did not prevent lightning of a firmore horrible kind than darts from any jgcloud from falling upon that house. grThe last heir of its name and fortunes

> was a young man of ability, who marrried a lovely wife and had every pros- jyjpect of happiness. But he fell into bad (a

, ways. Being of a convivial turn, he **

surrounded himself with all the fast ana q]r! dissolute youth of the neighborhood, ^

alienated the best friends of the family, ^became dissipated and worthless, and at ^last, becoming unendurable at home, ,

separated from his wife and went off to; live alone, at a house some few miles qqout of Stratford. One evening he in- &

11 vited all his dissolute "friends" and qqvagabond parasites, from far and near, jj(to a grand banquet. They all came.The feast was magnificent. All the ©oluxuries that could be obtained loaded

11 the table. The finest wines flowed freely .pas water. The guests became half tipsy, *

11 song followed song, and wild laughterrang out through the woods and lonely CQfields which surrounded the neighbor- g*less house of the wealthy outcast. Kitenow looked round upon his retinue; forthese reckless, coarse sots ho had de- jyjgraded an honored name,, given up the *«

fairest prospcct, widowed a beautifulwife, lost the smiling caress of his sun- jt(ny-haired children. Amid the orgies he ai]remained perfectly sober. He rose up, ja,took a candle from the candelabrum,and, passing round the spacious dining- -g,room, deliberately fired the curtains and q,everything that could burn. The horrifled guests ruBhed or reeled out; but QjKite remained. Yells and shrieks of ca" Fire 1" rent the air, but they went outthrough the wolds and up amid the qqclouddrifts unheard. The house crackled ©i

and burnt to the ground, and amid its j*.cinders were the ashes of Lie last man qwho bore the name of Kite. y(

. !00A Year in the New York Policc Courts,

00From the annual report of the Now j)C

York board of police justices, we find jjJ that the total number of arraignments y<in the police courts for last year were j79,865, of whom 57,859 were males and y(22,006 females. Of these some thirty- g,per cent, were discharged. I pjThere is a showing of decrease in the <32

number of offenders compared with the ggprevious year of 5,388, or eight and a

half per cent. ;For the four years ending with 1876 ^

there were 338,936 arrests and arraign-ments. .j Uj

If the arraigments for violation of ^the liquor law are excluded we find a re-

duction in offences of ten aud one-third geper cent, in 1877 as compared with 1874 ^and a reduction of six per cent, as com- {ja>pared with each of the years 1875 and S1,1876. jj0Tnere were 3,029 persons held to

answer under charge of felony, 799 ofI burglary, twenty-one of carrying con-

coaled weapons, fifty-eight of embezzle- <<

ment, 129 of false pretences, 340 of wfelonious assault, 813 of grand larceny, ^130 of robbery, 411 of larceny from the

! person, ten of homicide, and 2,798 of ar

petit larceny. caViolation of the liquor law imprison- ^

ed 1,522 persons. mThere were 22,669 persons arraigned ar

for intoxication. Even at these terrible w]figures the report shows a decrease of jyjthirty-three per cent, during tb.e past r

1 " t- ion* An nnnturee years. xu jloc±, *u, im vtcid m-

rested for this offence. pCThe number of venders of obscene

literature haa been reduced one-halfsince 1876. snFines and fees were collected in the W(

several police courts during the year ]aamountiug to $42, 057. I ^

j . I frHow they Manage Thingg in China. is

j Chinese elopements are well managed. ^None but the lazy deserve the fair ;there is neither ladder nor trellis to be ^scaled ; and the old gentleman is easilypersuaded that whatever is, is right.There was Ho, the laziest wight of Hang-

II chow, who lived by odd jobs, and never Hfcould get regular employment. Onenight, while he was drinking tea at a ®°

wayside inn, he boasted that he would fj1never do another day's work unless he :

coulJ find a rich employer with prettydaughters. An old fellow named Tsiang, sr

i1 who overheard the remark, was so en- U1

i raged by it that he engaged all the P1

| laborers who were present except Ho, P1and refused to give mm a mgui» iuuy-ing. Poor Ho went to sleep in Tsiang's ai

back yard, and very mournful was be.Suddenly a great bundle of cloths was ^thrown out of a window. Thinking p.there were thieves in the house, and not 11

i; being in a mood to protect the farmer's ,'household, he put the bundle on hisback, and trudged down the road withit. Soon he heard steps behind him.The infuriated farmer ? Not so. It wasouly a pretty girl. She joined him, andwalked by his side without saying a

; word or looking at him. On they went w

through the dark night, mile upon mile, 01

; and just as the day was breaking they! reached the village inn. Then she

looked at him, and shrieked. It was w

r not the young cousin who had wooed w

! her to pack up her clothes and meet him11 at midnight. It was only poor lazy Ho. J*1i ''Well, welj/' she »aid ; " there is no "

help for it. We must gee married us|

soon as possible." 8C

Married they were ; the old gentleman c'

behaved nicely ; dowiy, immense.oi

A Correspondent Answered. ir" Mabel Clare " writes us the follow- a:

ing flattering inquiry: "Are you the bauthor of that tender little ballaJ, v

'Darling, Kiss My Eyelids Down!'" ei

Wo? We writo such stuff as that? T" Kiss our eyelids down ?" Mabel, thou ci

art beside thyself ; much reading hath pmade thee mad. " Darling, kiss our o;

eyelids down." Now isn't that a nice dthing to accuse us of saying? Arc we tfthat devoid of intelligence? Mabel, a

I-wauUIa Aiir Avalirla rnlmn rnn 1 rS UU11 U JfUU uu. \->J .~v,~ JV. .V

i have a laucy to perform any operations bj of that delicate and tender naturo. We ief bave a large, comfortablo, roomy, flexi- n- ble gash just below our nose that hns ci

f bought county rights for all business of g- that nature that comes within the limits r<

ft of our face, and any eyelid found -w

b interfering or infringing will be prjse- lia cnted to the extreme b'm't of the law n

3 No, we didn't write it..Burlington a

Hawkey e. ..>jo:-%c,

OUR RIVERS AND HARBORS.

rlnclpal Objects Appropriated for In theHoniie, With Amount*.

The principal amounts appropriatedthe Kivers and Harbors bill passed in

le House, and the proposed improvelentsare as follow-*For Baltimore harbor, 375,000; forimes river, Virginia, $70,000; for Apimattoxriver, Virginia, $30,000; forreat Kanawha river, West Virginia,522,000; Capo Fear river, North Carorm,$85,000; Norfolk harbor, Virginia,JO,000; Savannah harbor, $70,000;harleston harbor, $5,000; Cedar Keys,lorida, $20,000; Chattahoochee river,labama, $18,000; Alabama river, $25,)0;the Warrior and Tombigbee rivers,labama, $10,000; ship channel in GaljstonBay, $75,000; the Mississippi andrkansas rivers, $180,000; the Missouriver, $70,000; survey of the Missouriver, 850,000; entrance to Galvestonirbor, 8125,000: Sabine Pass, Texas,55,000; Yazoo river, Mississippi, 825,K);removing the Red river raft, 824,K);White and St. Francis rivers, Arinsas,875,000; Missouri river,opposite

Joseph, 50,000; Missouri river, atebraska City, 820,000; mouth of Redper, Louisiana, 850,000; removingtogs from the Red river, 825,000; Rockland rapids, $30,000; Illinois river,r5,000; Mississippi river, (between theouths of the Ohio and Illinois.) 8240,>0;ditto, (between St. Paul and Desoines Rapids,) 8250,000; the Missouri,bove the Yellowstone,) 830,000; theissouri, (at Omaha City,) 830,000;imberland river, Tennessee, (aboveashville,) 860,000; ditto, (below Nash-lie,) $45,uuu; ±;ea river ot tne norm,innesota, $30,000; Tennessee river,bove Chattanooga,) $15,000; Tennese river, (below Chattanooga,) $300,10; Coosa river, Georgia and Alabama,'5,000; Wabash river, Indiana, $50,'0; Duluth harbor, $30,000; Sturgeonly, canal entrance, $30,000, the Ohioper, from Pittsburgh to its mouth,100,000; New Orleans harbor, $50,000;onongahela river, West Virginia andsnnsylvania, $25,000; Michigan Cityirlor, Indiana, $75,000; Oakland har>r,California, $80,000; Fox and Wisnsinrivers, $250,000; Chicago harbor,'5,000; St. Mary's river and canal,ichigan, $175,000; Harbor of Refuge,ike Huron, $100 000; Detroit river,ichigan, $100,000; Saginaw river,ichigan, $100,000; $25,000; Toledoirbor, Ohio, $50,000; Raritan river,sw Jersey, $200,000; wharf, landingid channel at Memphis, $46,000; Cleveadharbor and breakwater, $100,000;fie harbor, Pennsylvania, $25,000;affalo harbor, New York, $80,000;jwego harbor, New York, $90,000;

TTT'ii J.1. jjwer w miuLueiLt) uuu (juiuuium uvud,

regon, $30,000; canal around theCasdesof the Colnmbia river, $75,000;ilena river and harbor, Illinois, $30,0;Mississippi river at Vicksburg,0,000; the Neuse river, North Carola,$20,000; Currituck Sound, Northirolina, $20,000; Harlem river, New>rk, $150,000; Boston Harbor, $30,0;Providence river and Narragansett\y, $50,000; Staten Island Sound, $15,0; Washington and Georgetown har>rs,$50,000; Connecticut river belowartford, $30,000; Hudson river, New>rk, $70,000; East river aud Hell Gate,3w York, $350,000; Rondout harbor,aw York, $30,000; Burlfngton andvanton harbors,Vermont, $20,000 each;ers in Delaware Bay, near Lewes,0,000; Schuykill river, Pennsylvania,0,000; Delaware river, below Bridesirg,$100,000; Delaware river betweenenton and White Hill,$10,000; Shrewsiryriver, north and south branches,8,000; Des Moines Rapids, $95,000;pper Mississippi, from the mouth ofe Illinois, $11,500.The bill leaves it discretional with theicretary of "War whethar he shall havee work done by contract or hiredbor. It also appropriates 8150,000 forrveys of other rivers and harborssignated in the bill.

Shop-Lifting in Paris.The crime generally characterized as

shop-lifting," says a Paris letterriter, is very common here, the great.ops and bazars offering exceptionalcaptations. Every week we hear ofrests for petit larcenies, and in manyses the criminals are ladies of familyid position. I am sorry to say that a

imber of American ladies have beenrested here, and I remember twohich required all the influence that. * * 11. .i i.i ~rv

r. wosntmrne naa co get mem uu.

ioy finally compromised by paying fore goods and by giving 8100 to the>or. Kleptomania seems to bo on thecrease. During tho past week weive had three cases that were veryd. One French lady stole an articleortli fifty cents, although possessing a

rge fortune; another, the wife of a

ch merchant, had at least 100,000ancs a year to spend. The third casethat of a German countess, and theife of a distinguished general. Someme ago she took apartments in theue Lafayette, and soon won the favoreverybody. She lived a regular life ;id plenty of money, and seemed totend her time in shopping. Everyly she came in with numerous bundles,esterday she was detected stealingime small articles in the Magazine dennvre, and on searching her otherlings were found upon her. She conssedthat her mania for pocketing~-11 TTtna ar\ ati-nnrr flinf. nllO TV (ISLlUIl LlAlUgO WUO a\S DMWil0 V4.Hv

iable to resist it, and she offered toly any sum not to be exposed. Theoprietors said that they had tried theimpromise system with ladies so longid vainly, that they now had to tryverity, and they felt bound to pros:utethe countess as an examplo.he poor creature is in a pitiful condignto-day, and her appeals for mercye heartrending. All the great shopsive to employ special detectives, anden are kept watching the countersirongh holes in the ceiling.

Strength of the Bedouins.A correspondent of Land and Water,riting from Turin* describes the Bedlinsas possessing great strength. Hoiys: I have seen a Bedouin put a threeushelsack of wheat upon his headith his own hands, and dance aboutith it; but, of course, this was an exjption.The 6ame man, however, andis brother, regularly lift two three

al.nlcnnlra foetnnorl fno'rtfhpr. bvUOllUX DU\'nP| lUUVVUWt J ^

leir mouths, on to the back of a camelplatting clown; this weight is a fulliinel-load. Some of their women uro

pry strong, and carry immoiw loads,know ono girl of sixteen who carriesq her back three jars of water, weighirforty pounds each, up a steep hill,bout a quarter of a mile, to her husand'shut. The 'Bedouin women leadery hard lives, indeed. From theariiest age thby begin to be useful,'lie younger children look after tboUtle and donkeys, of which each campossesses generally a good sprinklingf sorry specimens. The older ones

raw water, and bring it often long dis*' i " +i1Q

inces on tneir ducks; ilh?j ^auuam, they make and bake the bread,)ok all the food, generally make andake the pots and pans that the formeri cooked in; they milk the cows andlake the butter by a very tedious proess,that is by shaking the milk in a

* * ti# il.^

ontskin, which is suspenueu irom iuo

jof of the but, and under which, in coldreather, a fire of dry cow-dung isghted to raise tho temperature. Wolenfrequently sit and shake the goatkineight or ten hours before butteromes.f

(

Ancient Postal Connections.In our modern speed of railroad travel

and the consequent facilities in thetransmission of mail matter all over thewhole civilized world, it is well enoughto look back to the time when letterwriting was a luxury indulged in only bya few, and* communication betweenfriends at a distance well-nigh an impossibility.In its first application thewon! post was applied to a courier orcarrier of messages. The use of post*,some writers say, originated with thePersians. Their kings, in order to haveintelligence of what was passing throughall the provinces of their vast dominions,placed sentinels on eminences atconvenient distances, where towers werebuilt. These sentinels gave notice ofpublic occurrences from one to anotherwith a very loud and shrill voice, by

Iwrto 4r*r\m Ana>V iliV/ll liDWO IT ua U1» VWAI AX"'M Viiw

extremity of the kingdom to anotherwith great expedition. But as this couldnot be practiced except in the case ofgeneral news, which it was expedientthat the whole nation should be acquaintedwith, Cyrus appointed couriers,and "places for post horses and houseson all the high-roads, for the receptionof the couriers, where they were to delivertheir packets to the next, and so

on. This they did night and day,stopped by no inclemency of weather,and they are represented to have movedwith astonishing speed. Xerxes, in hisfamous expedition n gainst Greece,planted posts from ihe iEgean Sea toShushan, or Susa, to send notice thitherof what might happen to his array; heplaced also messengers from station tostation, to convey his packets, at suchdistances from each other as a horsemight easily travel. The regularity andswiftness of the Roman posts were likewiseadmirable. Gibbon' observes:" The advantage of receiving the earliestintelligence, and of conveying theirorders with celerity, induced the emperorsto eetablish throughout thrir exten" "A4-V»« vamilav inaf.ifnfinn nfOXYO UUUIUilUUO IUU jluqiiai** uiuv»vu«4VM v.

posts. Houses were every where erectedat the distance only of five or six miles;each of them was constantly providedwith forty horses; and by the help ofthese relays it was easy to travel a hun-dred miles aday along the Roman roads."In the time of Theodoeins, Cesarins, a

magistrate of high rank, went by postfrom Antioch to Constantinople. Hebegan his journey at night, was in Cap-padocia (one hundred and sixty-fivemiles from Antiooh) the ensuing eve- jning, and arrived at Constantinople thesixth day about noon. The whole dis-tance was seven hundred and twenty-five Roman, or six hundred and sixty-five English, miles. This service seemsto have been very laxly performed till

Wmn r\t Tniiori nromnno fcn wlinwbUO biuio ui XIUJUUJ |/*W(avuv «w ..

reign the Roman messengers were in thehabit of seizing for the publio serviceany horses that came in their way. Someregularity was observed from this timeforward, as in the Theodosian code mentionis made of post-horses, and ordersgiven for their regulation. Throughoutall this period posts were only used on

special occasions. Letters from privatepersons were conveyed by privatehands, and were confined for the most

?art to business of sufficient urgency,et to judge the correspondence of

ancient times from the immense numberof Egyptian, Babylonian, and Persianseals still in existence, it must havebeen considerable. Posts disappearedfrom Europe with the breaking up ofthe Roman Empire. The modern postalestablishment is said to have originatedwith King Louis XI., of France, aboutthe middle of the fifteenth century.

Hospitality.True hospitality is a thing that touchesthe heart and never goes beyond the

circle of generous impulses. Entertainmentwith the true hospitable man

means more than the mere feeding ofthe body; it means an interchange ofsoul gifts. Still it should have its laws,as all things good must have laws to

I govern them.1H6 ODIlgULlUU l»U UD iiuopiuauio 10 a

sacred one, emphasized by every moralcode known to the world, and a practicaloutcome of the second great commandment.There should never be a guest in the

house whose presence requires anyconsiderable change in the domesticeconomy.However much the circumstances of

business or mutual interests may deimand in entertaining a stranger, heshould never bo taken into the familycircle unless he is known to be whollyworthy of that nanctum nanctorum ofsocial life ; but when once a man is admittedto the home fireside he shouldbe treated aa if the place had been hisalways.The fact of an invitation gives neither

host nor guest the right to be master ofthe other's time, and does not requireeven a temporary sacrifice of one's entireindividuality or pursuits.A man should never be so much himselfas when he entertains a friend.To stay at a friend's house beyond the

L- ' .nna in inTT1fori is fn TtflT-UlLltJ 1U1 VVIXlull yjuo UJ r

petrate a social robbery.To abide uninvited in a friend's house

is as much a misdemeanor as borrowinghis coat without his permission. rIt isdebasing the coin of friendship to meredross when a man attempts to make itpay his hotel bills.The fact of two men having the same

occupation and interest in life gives toneither a social right to the other's bedand board.They who go into the country in summeras uninvited guests of their farmer

friends should be rated as social brigands,and treated accordingly.These few social maxims are by no

means to be taken as a complete code ofhwa. Others quite as important willspring up out of the personal experienceof every reader of this article, and the

i'ustice and equity of all may be tested>y that infallible standard of society.

tlie golden rule. There con be no true

hospitality that in practice is a violationof this rule; and you may safely restassured tbat you have given the fullestand most perfect measure of entertainmentto your neighbors if you have doneexactly as you would be done by..SundayAflernoon.

A Letter's Remarkable Journey.A letter was mailed in the New York

Post Office on February (», 1876, con1a nrirltaming ten gum ourciti6UU) .

to Mary Botten, Aschueha, Australia.The letter was sent to San Francisco,anil was returned to New York. Thenceit was sent to London, to Australia, tothe dead-letter office at Sydney, andthence at the request of the sender, itwas forwarded to Demmnquillen, NewSouth Wales. Not delivered there, itwent next to the dead-letter office atMelbourne, thence to London, thence tothe dead letter office at Washington, andfinally it came back to New York, more

than two years after it started. But thesovereigns were missing. Inquiry atthe foreign office elicited the responsethat the case was closed. It was afterwardsfound from marks on the envelopethat the loss must have occurred betweenSydney and Melbourne. The case was

again opened, and the result was thatthe sovereigns were found in the Melbourneoffice in their buclt«kin covering.Gaorge Wileou, the sender, has receivedf.hfi monev from Postmaster James, ofNew York. More than forty letterswore sent from the New York Office regardingthe matter.

A SILENT CITY.

Excnvated Wonder* of Pompeii.How theRomaoi Lived Eighteen Hundred YearsAMO'

Naples is always crowded with visitors.All the tourists " do " Pompeii, as thesaying is. A railroad runs from Naplesto the city, which has been about exhumedfrom the ashes; and a delightfulride of about forty minutes' duration,which takes us along the beautiful bayof Naples in full view of its bine limpidwaters, and carries us over the ruins ofthe twin city in the dreadful destructionfar-famed Herculaneum. The remainsof Pompeii are all under the control ofthe government, which charges an admissionfee of two francs, for whichamonnt visitors are also furnished withcompetent guides. The gateway bywhich you enter is only a few minuteswalk from the railroad depot, and youare at once within the precinte of theSilent City.Eighteen hundred years ago the city

was full of life. Nearly 30,000 peoplepromenaded its streets, and it was a sceneof Roman luxury. Its situation on thesea made it a most fashionable place ofresort for the wealthy Romans, and theEmperor Claudius had his pleasure housethere and the great orator Cicero a residence.It was likewise a commercialseaport, and a lively traffic was carriedon by its merchants. But in August, A^,D. 79, Vesuvius belched forth a mass ofburning lava, ashes, cinders, hot waterand mud, and the town was totally buriedSiilce that period other eruptions haveheaped up more volcanic matter on thesite of the city, and for nearly seventeencenturies Pompeii remained dead to theworld. About one hundred veara agothe entombed oity was discovered, andimmediately action was taken to excavateas much of tbe ruins as possible.The work has been going steadily on,

but not more than one-half the city hasvet beenexhumed. Still, many acres havebeen dug over and miles of street havebeen brought to the light of day. Theburied portion is still covered with tonsupon tons of stones, ashes, cinders andhardened mud to a depth of from ten totwenty feet above the tops of the houses.Over this are two feet of rich soil, whichis exceedingly productive and coveredwith trees,The government employs every winter

about two hundred people, comprisingmen, women and children, in excavatingthis part. The men "dig; the womenand children carry away the rubbish inbaskets. The exhumed portion of theoity lies open to the bright sun andis somewhat slightly elevated above theIfivfll nf thfl finrrormdinc countrv.This city is now a perfect picture of a

Roman city two thousand years ago.The streets, pavements, temples, images,theaters, dwellings, columns,household gods, paths, arches, fountains,forums, shops of various trades, musicalinstruments, weapons of war, implementsof labor, marble and bronze statues,mosaics, frescoes and drawings,dining-rooms, bedrooms and kitchens,with their appropriate furniture; foodfor the hungry and medicine for thesick; glassware, vases and pottery; gems,medals and coins and fruits, flowers andshrubs are all seen as they were on theterrible night when the city was doomedto a sudden destruction.The streets are narrow, some not beingmore thiui eight feet across, but they

are straight and regular. The pavementis composed of large flat stones or

tlocks of lava, and the deep ruts cut inthem by the Roman chariots are clearlyperceptible. At the cressings are largestepping stones for the use of pedestrians,so as to keep their feet from themud. Everything in the street wassilent and deathlike. There were nohuman beings in the houses, no promenadersin the streets; all were deserted.The dwelling houses are generally smalland one storied. They are built ofstone and brick,plastered on the outsidewith mortar. An open court is in thecenter, and the different rooms are arrangedaround in the oriental style.Most of the roofs are destroyed, havingbeen crushed down by the weight ofthe ashes. In the dining-rooms thetables are of stone, and many are coveredwith petrified food. Beds andoouches are in the sleeping rooms.In one of the kitchens was found a

fowl put in the skillet, and a stew pancontaining a small pig for roasting, allprepared eighteen hundred years ago.Many beautiful mosaics were found on

the floors, and elegant frescoes on thewalls, and they look as bright and freshas if they had only been finished a fewyears. The frescoes, pictures, mosaicsand sculptures and even jewelry discoveredin some of the houses show a terribledepravity in morals. In the "Houseof the Vestals," upon the door-sill, isthe word " Salve," welcome. A mosaicmini tto rpnreRAn tfttion of a fierce dog,"*wu "*iV *vr". __

with the inscription "Cave Canem,"beware of the dog, is near the thresholdof the " House of the Tragic Poet"In the streets are many shops which

still have the signs over the doorways.In one there is some marble partlysculptured, with the artists' tools lyingaround ; in another, medicines and surgicalinstruments ; in a third, a marblecounter, with stone liquor jars behind jit, and the stains made by the wet glasseson the counter prove that this was a

drinking soloon. Then there is an eat- jiDg house. Meats and delicacies are on !the counter; fireplaces to keep the j

.J . TTrnvm nr« atill in thesoups ULIU mcaoto nuii« ..w

room. The same building contains a

grist mill and a bakery. In the baker'sshop a batch of loaves was found whichhad been in the oven since the 24th ofAugust, A. D. '79. The mill was turnedby horse power.The various temples that have been

exhumed contain idols made of marble,silver and gold. The Temple of Isis iseighty-four feet long and seventy-fivebroad. The ashes of victims were foundon its altars. The skeleton of a priest,sitting at a table on which was spread a

meal is here, while near the door was

another priest holding in his skeletonhand a hatchet, with which he had triedto cut his way out of the temple. Threehundred skeletons were discovered inthe temple of Juno all crowded togetherand buried beneath the ashes. At thevery hour of their destruction thepriestess was offering sacrifices to thequeen of the gods. The forum occupiesthe central portion of the city. On eachside are rows of columns and long por-ticoes which show the outline of thisspot. Pedestals on which formerlystood famous statues are dotted here andthere. The public meetings were heldin the forum, and a notice of such a.rtoiTn/l fnr t.Via vfirv nicrht whenIIICUHU5 V>U1AVV« .. ^

the city was destroyed.

How Fast Coral Grows.A remarkable piece of coral, taken off

the submarine cable near Port Darwin,is Bpoken of in a Melbourne paper. It

AMAAiAa oV»/,nf flwoIS UI 111(2 urtuiituj I»wwu« UTV

inches in height, six inches in diameterat the top and about two inches at thebase. It is perfectly formed, and thebase bears the distinct impression of thecable and a few fibres of the coil ropeneed as a sheath for the telegraphicwires still adhering to it. As the cablehas been laid only four years, it is evidentthat this specimen must havegrown to its present height in that time,which eeerns to prove that tho growthof ooral is much more rapid than hasbeen euppoted.

Items of interest.A boy's first bet.Alphabet,A good thing to have round.A circle. 4%A Chicago man named his twins Adam ;ij

and Eve. '.

The prime-evil bone of contention.* '

*

The jaw-bone. *

In what place are two heads better than :'ione? In a barrel."Admittancefree,"as the goat said

to the circus poster. N

Hartford has a Chinese base ball nine - ^who muchee muffee.There are seventy-two poetmistresses n

in the United States.The Shah of Persia has a son.that j

makes him a pa-shah.A letter carrier is not necessarilj a -1

fighting man because he wears a coat of -jA recent philosopher has disoorerect a"

method to avoid being donned. Neverran in debt.Why is a scratch on tbe hand like the :

first flight of a fledgling ? Because it isonly a little soar.

Mrs. Jane Higgins, of Shelbyyilie,Ind., has attained fame by cownidingher father-in4aw.

Thirty-seven men have been hanged ( $in New York in four years. New Yorkis the Hempire State..Boston Post.GovernorVan Zandt, of Bhode Island, J

is over six feet in height, weight, 200

gonnds, and is the largest man in the -j?tate.

Lives of great men all remind 04Wa nrnkn onr liven mblime.And, departing, leave behind naCreditors to grieve and pine.

.Oil City Derrick.A woman caught the high French - ^

heels of her shoes in a railroad track inMeriden, Minn., and was held fast whilea train cat off her legs.The English language is inadequate to

express the forlorn feelings of the boy Jwhs thinks he has stolen a dime noveland finds it to be a cook book.A West Hill boy wandered into ft

Jefferson street drug store yesterdayand ^

wanted to bny ten cents' worth of flypaper " to make kites of.".Burlington ?Hawkeye.Chronic."You are looking well,

Mr. Whiff." "Well? You know thatI'm never welL Just as soon as I stopbeing sick lor a aay, jl ietu wurtw iuc u

the next morning."Justice is the gr°at but simple principle,and the whole secret of success, J

in all government.as absolutely essentialto the training of an infant as to thecontrol of a mighty nation.One may study nature all his lifetime,

and then not be able to explain why theman who misses one step in going downstairs is certain to miss three or fourmore before he brings tip.Somebody estimates that every man

who lives to be sixty years old has spentseven months buttoning his shirt oollar.Thirty years more should be added forhunting up the oollar button. ~ i" Come, don't be timid," said a couple

of foolish snobs to the two mechanics ;"sit down and make yourselves our

equals." " We'd have to blow our

brains out to do that," was the reply.The practice and principle of insuranceis of great antiquity, and wag «V

known in the time of Claudius Csesar,A. D. 43. It is certain that assuranceof ships at sea was practiced as early as

'

A A TimojThe youaR man paced the parlor, *

While she was cleaning her teeth;And he thonght of the brilliant dollars jOf the daddy who would bequeath.

Theold man sat on the conuter,With his head between hi* hands,

And rejoiced that his girl bad a loverWho would help him to meet his demand!.

Both mistaken.. Washington Capital

A Detroit boy stood aa umbrella with .

a cord tied to it in a public doorway.Eleven persons thought that the umbrellawas theirs, and carried it withthem the length of the string. Theythen dropped it, and went off withoutonce looking back, or stopping to pick *

it up again..Detroit Free Press. *

"Edward," said a mother to her son,a boy of eight, who was trundling a hoopin the front yard. "Edward, you *

mustn't go out of that gate into thestreet." "No, ma, I won't," was thereply. A few minutes afterward hismother saw him in the Etreet manufacturingdirt pies. " Didn't I tell you,"she said, angrily, not to go through thegate ?" " Well, I didn't mother," was

the reply. " I climbcd over the fence."Little Annie, like most little folks, says

queer things. A few nights ago hermotherhad prepared her for bed, and kneelingby her mother's side she repeated trie

Lord's Prayer, as usual. She had nosoouer concluded it than she repeated itagain rapidly.Annie," said her mother" why do you say your prayers twice t" t

Then the little innocent looked up andremarked: " Well, mamma, I feel justlike praying to-night and to-morrownight I may not."

HER LAST LETTEB." New York, November seventeen.My dearest Charles, my goal's delight,

I could not see you yester e'en.You must not visit me to-night,

Darling, I daro not tell you why ;But fate so wills it. All in o'er.^

I keep my sccret with a sigh ;But in this world we'll meet no more,

And yet I love you Just the sama ;Bat do uot judge me as I seem; «

Forgive rue, Charley ! Do not blame,Think of mo only as a dream.

For I am doomed to fate and die.We'll meet, perhaps, Home happier day;

Visit my tomb, but do not cry,Adien ! Yonr poor distracted May.

P. S .Charles, come to-morrow, anyhow;The doctor savs it hardly shows ?

I'm not aabamed to tell you now.I had a pimple on my nose!"

Erzeroum, in Asia Minor, in therecent war seems to have been a vastcbarnal house. During three months9,500 Turkish soldiers died in the van -,

ous hospitals there, and probably atleast as many civilians, making a totalmortality of nearly 20,000 in Erzeroumalone in about twelve weeks. In Januaary,the weather being then very severe,a detachment of 800 troops was sent oveithe mountains to Erzingham. Only300 reached their destination. Theywere overtaken by a fearful snowstormThe colonel had his wife and thre«children with him in a covered araba ;he and they all perished. The hospitalsat Erzeroum were full of cases of frostbite,some of them as severe as any caaea

on record. Twenty-seven soldiers withoutfeet were under the charge of one

surgeon alone ; they had been all frostbitten,and their feet had to be amputated.Ayoung Canadian eight-year-old takes

the palm for cruelty. She is the childof Mr. Charles Frost, of Berlin, Ont.and being left with the care of a sisterof five, became angered because it interferedwith her frolics with her companions.She determined to rid herselfof the incumbrance, and began to abusethe child in the most fiendish manner.

First she filled its mouth with snow,next dipped it into a quantity of wateruntil it was nearly drowned. Then itwas placed in the oven of the stove andburned and biuised, and next thrustunder the stove. All these devicesfnilincr. she went for a saw to saw itshead off, buc relented and bit upon the

plan of placing it in a bag and dragging Ii. m . -woo nryacicrfrn init about toe room, ouc n*a

this pleasant amusement -when the

J horror-stricken mother returned. Of

j course, the injuries proved fatal.