Decatur Democrat, Volume 38, Number 41, Decatur, Adams County, 28 December 1894 — Page 9

©he senwrrat M, gr.iCKßtrßw/-^>^ J Ex-Queen LUlluokaloni consldgni Queen Victoria a stuck-up old thing. To make the great Manchester canal a paying Investment let a chute be erected at the Manchester end of It. ess.■■■!!..■■■; j i--i The penalty for trespassing in the Astor mansion should be just the same as the penalty for trespassing in the rooms of the poorest tenant of a house or rooms. Dr. Hiram Corson, of Montgomery County, Pa., is believed to be the oldest practicing physician in the United States. He is still in good health, active in mind and body, and “90 years young," as the late Dr. Holmes would have put it Why not let Mr. Holmes, now of the Philadelphia jail, be first brought to Texas and tried for horse-stealing ?— Galveston News. If Mr. Holmes should be ,found guilty of horse-stealing in Texas and punished in due and ancient Texas form, what chance would there ever be for the rest of the country to get at him? The Chicago Board of Education has provided that all school buildings shall have bath tubs, and all unclean children will be obliged to take a scrub before being admitted to class rooms. This novel and wholesome suggestion originated with Mrs. J. M. Flower, who served three years on the board. Professor Oldham of Cambridge says that Portuguese sailors knew of the Western continent in 1447. Thus gradually the honors are stripped from Columbus. Quite possibly Adam knew about It, too, and was only prevented from sailing to it by the fact that transit facilities were bad, and there would have been nobody to leave behind to mind the garden. Manufacturers of foot gear assert that the old-fashioned boots so extensively worn twenty years ago are rapidly going out of vogue. Shoes are almost universally worn now by all classes. As a consequence many factories in New England have recently gone out of business or changed their appliances for the manufacture of shoes only. An indignant judge in New Jersey -» , . w *mmen on the bench who feel as a judge Should feel tn such cases—-the gross indignity done him in the mere making of such an offer. Evidences that bribes have been offered and taken are, unfortunately, far more common than cases in which the offer is treated as ■- it was in this case. The briber seems to have made his offers much in the form of an ordinary business proposition, and it is to be feared that the notion that judges are not regularly marketable has not full possession of the public mind. Twoof the scoundrels who have raised sums of money in the United States under pretense of prosecuting the claims of alleged American heirs to the Townly estate, have been awarded a small portion of the punishment they deserve in a sentence to twenty months* Imprisonment at hard labor by a London court, the Judge remarking as he passed sentence that they had been engaged in about as vile a conspiracy as man could concoct The punishment of these two knaves* should not only open the eyes of the fools who gave them money to pfosecute a worthless claim, but the ejres of all other fools who imagine themselves heirs to mythical foreign estates. It is said of fools, however, that If brayed with a pestle In a mortar with wheat their foolishness will not depart from them. If anything were needed to stir the sluggish legislative conscience on the question of property in dramatic works, suftsly the case of Byers vs. Clancy, In Chicago, should prove a stimullant Byers carries on a peculiar industry in the Windy City. He obtains surreptitious copies of successful plays, which have cost either months of labor to the author or thousands of dollars to the manager. Byers sells copies of the plays for $5 each to fly-by-night managers, who thereupon produce them without any compensation to the owners and In defiance of them, the law being so defective that owners of plays have practically no resource against thieves of this kind. Clancy was In the employ of Byers, and, is. charged by ma kl n i? and selling-copies of the pßys already surreptitiously copied by fiyersl It Is perhaps the most shameless piece of effrontery ever witnessed in a court of justice. To have a Sicilian judge sitting gravely in court trying a case of division of plunder among brigands would faintly parallel the case of Byers vs. Clancy. Why cannot our legislators see the shame of it, the prostitution of justice that It Involves? Why cannot this kind of property be treated like any other kind of property? The man Who steals a play should be treated like the man who Steals a coat or a ham cir a kit of tools. The illustrious John Lawrence Sullivan was the author of the celebrated phrase “You’re talkin’ troo yer hat, see?*' Bat lt remains for a Chicago lawyer, (Charles loas. to first practically perform the feat loas was acpused of Improper use pf tfee 19

writing an insulting letter to Mrs. Janss, wife of Dr. Peter Janss. He made ho scruple about admitting this to Dr. Janss, but would never acknowliWgflltintli presence of a third party, so It convict him. Pdetofltae InspectorStnaFTW gested that Dr. Janss arrange a telephone transmitter in his silk hat, connected by almost Invisible and very fine wire to a pocket battery, and a re, celver in the hands of the Inspector, who was to remain outside while Dr. Janss called up loas. This was done, and the lawyer again admitted the truth of the charge, while Dr. Janss held the hat so that every syllable was clearly caught by Inspector Stuart loas confessed when the trick was revealed. loas formerly transacted Dr. Janss’ business, and when he lost his client set about doing him Injury, it is claimed, by writing anonymous letters to Mrs. Janss. In a recent speech delivered at Bradford, England, Lord Rosebery, the British Prime Minister, announced the purpose of the Government as now constituted, to .take steps for breaking the control over legislation so long exercised by the House of Lords. He Is reported as saying that In that Houso “a Liberal Government can never expect to have the support of more than Ove per cent of the members.” The veto of the Lords may at any time annul legislation adopted by the Commons, and so defeat measures of the utmost Importance representing the will of the people as expressed in the act of their representatives. The action contemplated by the Government Is a proposal to the House of Commons to place upon Its books “a resolution declaring in clear and unmistakable terms the .privilege of that bouse as against the irresponsible control of the House of Lords; and at the proper time an appeal will be made to the country upon that resolution.” Lord Salisbury, lu a speech at Edinburgh, replied to Lord Rosebery, defending the House of Lords, and expressing a doubt if Rosebery Is really in earnest In what he has said on the subject Recent events, however, suggest that it may have been Salisbury w*ho was joking. Curious Partnerships. Prof. Stewart, In a lecture before the London Institution, gives some Instances of the cifrlous partnerships which are sometimes formed in the animal world, the principle of which has been differentiated by naturalists under the term commensalism. The organisms of the lower animals ate like towua be- | moreover, enjoy? t|i7 locomotion, though little able to move itself. The parasite fully repays this service by hiding the crab when he js In danger, aiding him to numb or kill his prey, and when the time comes for the crab to change his shell assisting him to his new home. Another example of this spirit of communion is found in the protection afforded the acacia tree of tropical America by a colony of ant warriors. The acacia tree, finding Itself in danger of destruction by leafcutting and other ants and Insects, enlists in Its service a tribe of ants, who are not only Innocuous, but ready to light for the plant and keep off its enemies. But the ants are true mercenaries, and will not serve without pay, and for them the tree provides food and shelter—hollow appendages (stipules) to live in and nutrient fluids on which they may feed. As soon as the foe sets foot on the ’eaf stalk he is assailed by the guardian ants, and either killed or compelled to beat a hasty retreat. A Musicians’ Exchange. The Rue des Petits Carreaux, which intersects the ol<f part of Paris, has been for ages an exchange where perormers and singers of all kinds assemble In the open air to meet managers. Every Sunday, between 8 and 10 a. m., the place Is crowded, and before Christmas, New Year’s Day and other festivals is almost impassable. Every sort of musician—long-haired, skinny, fat, in broad flapped or ancient pot-hats—moves about, each with a green or a black bag in which is an Instrument. When the hirer finds his man the/ adjourn to a wine shop and fix the price. A first fiddle or cornet player gets 12 to 15 francs an evening; flutes and clarinets less, say 9 to 13 francs a night; a drummer 7 to 9 francs. Lately an enterprising carpenter has started an “office for artists of all Instruments,” which threatens to revolutionize the business. Complication. » Frederisk Hill, In bls “Autobiography,” —notes - ■ some -of those —cuiiuisn ■ thoughts which are so real, so serious, and yet so to older people. One of them is especially amusing. He says: A favorite of my childhood was Mrs. Barhauld’s “Hymns in Prose.” I recollect, however, that In one of the hymns a difficulty occurred to me. The author speaks of a united family where “If one Is sick they mourn together; If one Is happy, they rejoice together.” What would they do, I thought, If one were sick and another happy at the same time? Narrow Escape. Patrick, coming into a street car, found only one vacant seat and promptly took It. “It’s looky I came when I did,” said he. “That’s so, Pat," answered some one. “Bekase,” he went on, “if X was coinin’ a slcond later, I’d be afthtr havJ»’ wwdJbed wesllf opt 9( me

EMBERS, > : Still the embers glow, Though the fire Is faint and low’, Though the frost to on the pane, And the year to on tho wane, glow. ,/K . / 1 • _jt--In the pine wood deep, Where the shadows are asleep, Where the storm complains at night, And the winter drifts are white, In the pine wood deep, Stands the Christmas tree, » Waiting for the children’s glee; Waiting for the mother’s hand, And the joyous household band, Stands the Christmas tree In the shops so bright, Stuffs with rainbow hues of light, Costly, carven, rich, and rare, Curious gifts beyond compare, Bloom untouched by blight, Catch the eye and lure the heart, Weaving spells with mystic art, In the shops so bright. Life is glad and gay, Set to dancing time of holiday, Home and hearth o’erflow with cheer. Love enfolds its near and dear, \ Life is glad and gay. Yes, the embers glow! Though the fire is faint and low, Though the frost is on the pane, And the year is on the wtfne, Yet the embers glow. A-Margaret E. Sangster, in Harper’s Baear. __ ; Blj Msjoye Affair. A CHRISTMAS STORY. ! Mr. Bronson, of Boston, was not Well, and he and his daughter were . spending the winter at their cottage ’ by Lake Brule, in the Adirondacks. To-night, Christmas Eve, Miss Doro- ’ thy Bronson was having a Christmas tr ee. , Her only neighbors were the Cana- ’ dians, whose huts straggled along ' the lake shore, —now, in the wintei ' time, seeming lost among great drifts and snow-weighted evergreens. This evening, at Miss Bronson’s invitation, each shanty had poured out a host of swarthy children —well- , behaved, grave little creatures, whose , manners hardly needed the oversight , of the older people that came with - them. When the tree was ablaze with its tinsel and candles, they i stood with brown hands pressed tc their sides, black eves staring, and ’ Bps tightly shut. Not an exclamation —not a word; perhaps they So, when the candies and nuts and oranges had all been distributed, old Pierre Arneau came in with his fiddle; the tree was moved to one side, and the larger boys and girls stood up for a quadrille. They danced quietly and very correctly; indeed, the only person that Pierre, who called off as well as played, had to instruct, was the hostess herself. The next dance there was less gravity; the next, still less. Miss Dorothy was just congratulating herself on the fact that all were having a good time, when she noticed that some one was in the corner behind the Christmas tree. It proved to be a tall, stalwart youth. She dragged him forth. • “Ho! Jean Brusoe,” cried one of the boys; “you cannot hide yourself behind a little bush like that. Come and dance 1” Jean seemed to lack courage, or to have no desire to get a partner; and when the next set was forming, Miss Bronson, seeing he would be left out, asked him to dance with her. He obeyed, and went through the figures with clumsy precision. Now every one was attended to, and Miss Bronson,’ looking around, thought this both a successful and a picturesque Christmas party. The cheeks of the girls, who were young nough to be still plump glowed with health and excitement; their eyes were blacker than usual, if that wer possible, and their new calico dresses made a bright show. The young men were a sturdy lot; and old Pierre, grinning and nodding over his fiddle and with red knitted cap on his forehead, was a quaint and merry figure. Even awkward Jean, who had drifted back to his corner and regained the familiar shelter of the evergreen, seemed sedately happy. When it was all over, the guests plodded along the snowy road leading to the little Canadian settlement. In the moonlight the spruce trees, which covered each knoll sloping to the lake, stood out crisp dnd dark. Antoine Latour, one of the little . group, mo vin galon g JAe s’- 1 '- ita t was speaking: “Was she not awkward, the mam’sellel She was so stupid tn the dance, I could have laughed.” ’ On their way to the settlement they had to cross a bridge oVer a little ravine. At this place Antoine was lifted off his faet and tossed into the deep snow four or five feet below. He crawled out c vered with snow and breathless. “Who did that?” ho gasped. t “I did " sa-id Jean gravely I; and Antoine, /Wh6 was a fellow and did not love a Quarrel as well as a laugh, thought best to say no more about it. “I think Jean was angry,” .whispered one of the others to his neighbor, “because Antoine said she was awkward; for she danced with Jean. What, Jean 1 you that will scarcely speak to one of our girls, have you seteypur heart on this city mam’wlieF* ■ ■ ‘a

When Jean reached home he found the family ail asleep. The plan of the house and the heating arrangements were simple. There was one room down stairs and two lofts overhead . The stove, an old-fashioned cooking stove, stood in the centre of the lower room- In cold weather I the entire family, when in the house, Hve<rfiorcrt,U’XAndjiight, and now all of them—father and mtnJdtfr.- and Jean’s older brothers and sisters—lay wrapped in their blankets on the floor,in a circle close to tho stove. Tho wood fire, which had lately been replenished, burned hotly, and the sleopers looked warm and comfortable, Joan drew off his boots, and then going to a broad shelf which stood out several feet from the wall,pulled down his blanket. Tho best places on the floor were taken, ho had to stretch his long legs at some distance from tho fire. His brothers and sisti rs did not think it necessary to bo very considerate of Jean — he was so good-natured and stupid. When ho was a small child there had been two bad years, when the potatoes rotted, tho buckwheat blasted, and there was no snow for lumbering. Then the Brusoe family had lived on horse-feed; the mother became haggard, and the older children too; but Jean felt tho hardships most and grew up hollow-eyod, slow and clumsy. Miss Bronson must have been interested irf her guests, for after the last one had gone she felt like talking them over with some one; but her father was asleep. She went upstairs to her own bed room, her thoughts still busy with the people whose acquaintance she had just made. She was struck by their vigor t and simplicity. They seemed to e have absorbed the vitality and e wholesome vim of the evergreen fori. ests in which they lived—tempered i- with the same forest’s tranquillity, s Moreover, it was the good fortune of these Canadians to have preserved i- something of the Old-World Frenchg man’s vivacity and social traits, r while they stubborn hardit hood sprung of their American transi. planting. They had the advantage i- over the dwellers in cities. In her t enthusiasm she believed she would - like to become one of them; exe changing for their single cares the t questions, religious and social, h which of late years had been troue bling her. But perhaps they would y be unwilling to receive her. She reo membered several occasions when d they watched her very critically. - On the morning following Miss y Dorothy’s party Jean went to the x riMipliUld BHlSfiel ' he cried, as the I lad came in. “You and I are up 1 early; we were not jigging as much as - the others last night. Did not our , girls look well? If all those in the I city are as pale as mam’selle they I are truly to be pitied.” , “Yes—she is pale,” assented Jean,. > slowly. “But dp you not think she > is better than the girls at Lake Brule —in some ways/ £>he is so quiets—' • and so clean.” / “Perhaps so,” said the cobbler; f “yet they say she is thirty years old, k and she Is not married. That, you 5 know, speaks ill for her. But, Jean, I I’ve been thinking of you. Why do > you not ask some good girl to be your I woman, and then settle down. You are old enough and big enough to f have a home of your own. Don’t be t bashful I It is happiness —to work • hard, to have a family; no time to be sad. Wo are not like the Irish 1 and the Yankees, who let their old I people go to, the poorhouse. There > is no worry about old age if we have , children. See old man Bonnat—for > ten years he has done nothing but ■ fish and smoke and sit by the fire 4 , his sons take care of him, and he I laughs more than he cries. Life is , good when a man settles down. Now, t there is my Delphine —she is not bad > looking. The girls know you are ! steady, and they think of that, though they may like to laugh with that chattering Antoine Latour. Think it over, Jean. I should be ’ glad to have you as a son-in-law.” Before Jean left he said he would think it over. The cobbler, expecting him back in ■ the evening, told his black-eyed Del- ; phine to put on shoes and stockings (even in winter the young women, I i while in the house, did not wear • these luxuries) and to keep herself tidy. But Jean did not come. “He may like some other one better,” thought Pierre, sadly, “though no girl in the settlement has been more neighborly to him than Delphine. I know she likes him.” However, as the winter wore on Jean did make some calls, but not at the cobbler’s shanty. He got into = ‘■tiro tliwbrk'uf Stopping at the back ■ door of the cottage to ask if he could 1 not do something for Mr. Bronson. And sometimes Jean was asked into the big sitting-room, where an open' fire was burning, and where he saw Miss Bronson. She thought this tall, simple fellow, with hjs shock of black hair and mild, deep-set eyes, was an interesting type of the Canadian woodsman, and she observed him and talked to him, drawing him ut as well as his bashfulness would permit. She was very friendly. Jean, at the same time, waswatchher, comparing her with the young women about lake Brule. Decidedly she was not as pretty and healthy looking, nor as strong to bring in wood and carry water from the lake. It was very necessary that a wife should be able to do these things, and Jean decided that her apparent lacking in this respect was the reason no I man had chosen her for a Yet i

In some other respects she excelled the girls one saw in the settlement; and, after all,sometimes small, weaklooking women were the best workers. One evening Jean found a third person In the Bronson sitting-room. This was a slender, graceful young ■ man who had come from Boston to spend a few days at the cottage. He treated Jean very cordially, sometimes bursting Into roars of laughter when ti’ny-dlanadian made remarks not intended to be so ywy-lunny. But, on the whole, ‘he was polite. Yet Jean did not like him. A day or two afterward there was good skating on the lake, and Jean, who was passing the cottage, saw MJss Bronson on the bank putting bn her skates. There was some trouble, and she called to him to come and help her. Jean did his best, but he did not understand these new-fashioned i skates, and his hands were awkward. ■ Just then the young man from Bos-, ton, Mr. Robert Gurney, came out of , the cottage carrying skates in his hand, and he hurried down to where they were. “Here, let me do that,” he said, laying his hand on Jean’s shoulder i and gently pushing him out of the ■ way. Miss Bronson saw the black cloud I that gathered-in Jean’s face, and she • put out her band, to restrain him, but she was too late. He sprang . from his knees, caught the other man j around the waist, and flung him to . one side. - Mr. Gurney fell in the snow and . was not hurt. But he was very . much surprised, and when he got up i he turned and stared in silence. No ; one spoke, and Jean hung his head f sullenly, an animal-like rage shining ) in his eyes. Finally. Gurney burst [ out into a roar of laughter. “0117 that’s the way the land [ lies!” he said, still laughing and looking at Miss Dorothy. “Well, f then, I’ll overlook this little incil dent. But what a joke!” Jean saw that she was smiling in return, and the sight added to his 1 rage. For the first time he realized . the difference in their stations in 3 life. He glared at Mr. Gurney and r then strode away. 1 After this Jean carefully avoided . the cottage and its inmates. He was 3 as silent as ever, but both his mind and his temper seemed to grow 1 quicker. He was no longer the slow--1 thinking, good-natured boy of a few . weeks before. He wandered off into ! the winter woods, taking long tramps on his snow-shoes. If any one spoke j to him he was apt to answer roughly. , About two weeks the the road to the railroad station. A few minutes later appeared a smaller sleigh driven by Mr. ’Gurney. Miss Bronson rode beside him. Jean and Antoine Latour were ■ standing together. 4 “Why don’t you go and say goodi bye?” laughed Antoine. “Wasn’t she your girl —before you were cut out?” Os a sudden they saw that there was a disturbance on the road. Several small Canadian boys, who were standing near, had thrown snow at Gurney as he passed. The young gentlernan had leaped out of th<* sleigh and now was laying about him with his horsewhip. One boy had fallen in the snow and was receiving most of the blows. “It’s your sister Delia’s little Louis that’s catching it!” exclaimed Antoine. ‘ , , Jean leaped forward with an oath. The boy was a favorite of his, and this whipping, coming from the detested city man, was too much to bear. Louis, seeing his uncle coming, took courage and began to call names, so the whip was laid on harder than ever. In an instant more Jean had seized the unsuspecting Gurney, had wrenched the whip from him and hurled him to the ground. Now the lash fell fast and furious upon the . prostrate man’s face and shoulders. The boys looked on frightened. They thought Jean would kill the man, he looked so fierce. “Oh, Jean!” cried a woman’s voice. “Stop! stop hitting him! I love him! I’m going to marry him. Stop, you’ll kill him!” i Jean did stop, but he did not look at Miss Bronson, as she leaned back from the sleigh. One of the boys heard him mutter: “You’ll marry him, will you?” He let the whip slip through his hand till he held it by the middle. Then he raised the butt end, and bending over Gurney, struck him a crashing blow on the head. Before ho could strike again Antoine Latpur threw himself upon Jean, and soon other men came running up. At first it looked as if Jean Brusoe would be tried for murder. However, thanks to the fact that the whip was not a heavy one, the wounded man did not die, and Jean was sentenced to only two years in State’s prison. % l One spring day, when the first blue birds were singing, when from the woods came the distant drum beat of the grouse, and when the snow in the fields lay in little patches under the north sides of the stumps, Pierre Arneau had moved his bench out into the sunshine. His hands were brisk at his work* and thb little old cobbler looked almost as young as he had two years before. Suddenly a tall figure, dressed in a ■ pew suit Qt Ul-fitUng black clothes,

eame arountf. the corner of the house and stood bftfore him. “You remember me, Pierre Arneau?” said the new-uomer. “I do, Jean Brusoe; I have never forgotten you.” “I did not mean to come back here,” went on the young man; “but when I was in prison I often thought of young Delphine. I saw I had been a fool to think <>f things which do not belong to people like us. And so I have come to see you ; but as for Defpi’ri'iw?—J suppose she is married long ago.” > “No,” said Pierre. “When the young men came she drove them away. She did not have much to remember; but sh<?. toe, has not forgotten.” And he lead the way into the shanty.—[Frank Leslie’s Weekly. A New Forage Plant. Any forage plant which is adapted to arid or semi-arid regions is of value in this State, and information on such points is always of interest. Sandwick is the name of a new fodder plant which is so favorably reported on by the Colorado station that seeds are to be distributed this spring for trial. Sandwick is sown in drills, a double row in each thirty-nine inches. About thirty pounds of seed to the acre were used. The seed was sown on June 10. The plants were cultivated three times, and received one irrigation during July. The growth was not rapid, but in spite of an exceedingly dry summer and fall the plants kept green and continued their growth. In spite of the snow they sent out a new growth in December. It would appear from the report of the Colorado Experiment Station to produce a much heavier growth in that State than in Nebraska or in any of the States where it has been tried. The plant is highly relished by cattle and horses. The analysis shows that it is rich in the albuminoids or flesh producing elements, and hence well adapted for the production of milk or for fattening cattle. When sown by itself thinly it spreads close to the ground, so low that it cannot be cut by a machine or scythe. Its special use is as fall, winter and spring pasture, and as such it bids to find a large usefulness in this State. If sown with spring oats it can be cut and cured as hay, and the combination makes a well balanced ration for milch cows. —[Rural Californian;. .- J v -...u tT. jWmu imdl'rihi CHgWlYir keep, and orders have beffljx issued to break up the expensive establishment known as the “howdah-khtos.” Already the government roll of elephants has been reduced to between ' 200 and 300, instead of the 1,000 that it lately maintained in northern India alone. As the railways penetrate the unsettled northern districts, elephants are less and less in use to drag heavy artillery. They are timid beasts and in action are practically useless, and for mountain warfare mules are considered much better. Even the native princes now-a-days are content to keep one elephant, where formerly they had a score. The Indian government has decided that? only tho Governor-General’s silver howdah is to be kept, and two or three state elephants for ceremonial processions. The historic howdah was furnished up Lady Canning’s artistic direction for her husband’s vice regal progress through India after the mutiny, and it lias been used by almost every British ruler of India since the first, Warren Hastings. Around it cluster more than a century’s memories of wars and pageants.—[New Orleans Picayune . He Fooled the Dog. Sheriff Sherry, of Muncie, Ind., keeps a large dog, which he <nn.»loys » a guard for the workhouse prissnbrs when they are at work outside. The convicts are afraid of the dog, and the sheriff has been accustomed to keep but a slack watch of them while the dog was about. The other day one of the prisoners, who was working with a gang on the street, and had taken some pains to cultivate the dog’s acquaintance, made a dash for liberty. ’ The dog was sent after him, and as he came running up the convict flight, merely clapping his hands and calling to the dog, “Sichim! Sichim!” The animal was completely fooleul, and, dashing past the fleeing prisoner, made a rush for a farmer, wh& was walking along not f ar away, and soon had him up a tree. When the sheriff arrived on the scene he called the dog off from the farmer, but the convict had made good use of his opportunity and was not to be found. —[New Orleans Picayune. Fairy Stones for Luck. Fairy stones are the latest, and a young woman from the South has set her friends sending around for them. They are said to bring their owners luck, “but if you let anyone” touch it,” continued this believer in luck pieces, “you spoil tho charm.” This fairy stone seems to be a piece of petrified earth, with what looks like a cross marked upon it, and is said to come from St. Patrick, hr Virginia, where there is a mountain full of them, supposed to have been planted there by the fairies as fa. back as the days of the crucifixionr Believers in such things or folks who love to pick up fads are having these fairy stones mounted as pins, watch charms, etc, —[Boston Gazette