Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 May 1893 — Page 4

POETICAL SELECTIONS FROM BISHOP SPALDING.

To give delight is blessedness; The joy we give we feel, And when our lives our brothers bless They bring 1 1 ns best weal; For they and we Are company In gri-f and gle“. And chime or clash together like a peal. No happy man lives for himself Or for a private end, Sad misers only love their pelf, Nor know the joy to spend,— New joy to add To make hearts glad, And cheerthe sad. And with onr own content of others blend A generous heart asks no reward; It is, like conscience clear, A feast wh-re all best gifts are stored, And guests have all good cheer, And with glad song In bap. y throng T o hours prolong, tVith loving friends whose presence makes life dear. O holy age, come nearer still. When each sha 1 work f r all, And love and peace the ear h shall fill. And all men disenthrall, And on the earth There to no dearth Hut a new birth Of happy souls, and God be all in all! —o — Ah, could I sing some lulling song, Whose music, soft and low As murmuring stream, would bear along My sorrow and my woe, And leave me light of heart Without a paiu or smart, As when a boy I leaped for joy To see the flowers springing. And hear the sweet birds singing; And all the days were tilled with light, And angels hovored through the night. Ah, conld I touch the secret spring Of heavenly harmony, And let glal melodios ontring To flit the soul with glee, And drive all care away, Nor let dull sadness stay, But give each heart Its own sweet part— In the deep joys of earth Upbrimming cups of mirth, Till the greit earth, iu gladness crowned, With songs of merriment resound. Ah, for a note so sweet and clear, That weary workers all The high and heavenly stra'u might hear, And think it angel's call To lift the fainting heart, And new life to impark, Inspiring hope i In all who grope ’Mid auxions cares and doubt, Until for joy they shout, And look to God who all controls, And all who trust in Him consoles. In youth we long to make our thought The thought of all the world, But when sad Time his work has wrought We march with banuers furled. No more there floats before our eves The fi esh heroic dream— That our weak, single energies Can stem the torrent’s stream. Enongb if we ourselvei may now Ride on the raging wave, Or catch some overhanging hough With hope our life to save. But still the dewy, blooming dawn Throws on onr soul its li.ht, Though all its glories now are gone, And wo sweep intonight.

THE MISSING COAT.

BY THOMAS G. MITCHELL.

I never told anybody how very, very near I was to death that night, just a year ago; but as I can now look back and calmly recall each word, each act, I will write it down as a warning to all who may find themselves similarly circum--atanced, hoping with all my heart that the number may be few. In the first place, my name is Frederick Putnam. I am, and have been for the last ten years, the foreman and bookkeeper of the large lumbering establishment of William Winston & Co., and hope to be for another decade, unless something better turns up. Mr. Winston is the resident partner and manager of the manufacturing part of the business. The other members of the firm, of whom there arc two, live in the city, at the foot of the lake, and attend to the sales of lumber, which we send them by vessel. This is by far the largest share of what the mill cuts, though the amount of our sales directly from the mill to supply the country to the west of us is quite large. Well, one cold evening, just as I was preparing for home, I heard footsteps on the crunching snow outside, and presently the office door flew open, as though some one in haste had given it a push, admitting a tall, stout, welldressed man, with a small travelling-bag in one hand and a shawl over his arm. I was alone, Mr. Winston having gone to the house some half-an-hour before, locking the safe, in which we kept our books and papers, and taking tlie kev with him as usual. I had already closed the damper to the stove, put on my overcoat, and was just in the act of turning down the lamp—but, of course, I waited.

. “Good evening,” said the man, bustling up to the stove, and kicking tbe damper open with his foot. “Has Winston gone to the house?” I answered that he had. “Whew! I was afraid of it.” He drew out his watch—a very fine one, I thought. “I shall not have time to go up,” he said. “The train is due in fiftceu ’minutes.” “Is there anything I can do?’’ I asked. ,“I want to leave some tnonev with Winston. I intended to stop in town a day or two, but I have just got a despatch that calls me home.” “What name, sir?” “Anderson, of Andersonville.” I knew him then, though I had seen him but once before. He had been one of our best Western customers. I say had been for the reason that during the past year his payments had not been so prompt. In fact, he was considered behind, and Winston had that very day told me to write to him, and “punch him up a little,” as he expressed it. The letter was then in the breast pocket of my overcoat. “You can leave the monev with me air, and I will give you a receipt.” He seemed to hesitate which nettled ££*2£r. 1 MTer bUlDe<l “ ybod *

"How much fs my bill?” he asked, eyeing me sharply, I answered promptly, for I had struck the balance not more than half an hour before. "Eleven thousand seven hundred aod fifty dollars and twenty-three cents.” “Humph! Less than I supposed. Write me out a receipt for that amount." He left the stove and came and looked over my shoulder while I wrote. “It is all right. Mr. Putnam. I know you now. You’ve been with long time. I can tell your signature anywhere.” He drew from in inside jiockct a largo black wallet, very round and full, and counting out eleven different piles of banknotes, he told me to count them. It was a'short and easy task, for each pile contained just one hundred bills. The balance was in fives, twenties, and took more time to count them; but at last we got it so that both were satisfied. At this moment we heard the whistle from the station. Anderson sprang for his traveling-bag, and giving me a hasty hand-shake, was off on the run. I closed the door and counted the money again. Finding it all right, I wrapped a piece of newspaper around it and slipped it into my overcoat pocket. I did not feel ipdte easy to have so much mouey about me; but as Winston’s house was at least a mile distant, I concluded to keep it until morning, when 1 could deposit it in the bank.

Iclosed the damper again, drew on ray gloves, took the office key from the nail just over the door, and stepped up ; to *put out the light. As I did so 1 saw a bit of paper on the floor, which, on picking up, I saw was the receipt I wrote for Mr. Anderson. He had dropped it in his hurry. I put it iu my pocket, and thought no more about it; otilv that I would mail it to him. I would have done it then, but as the last mail for that day had gone out on the train which took Mr. Anderson, I could do it just as well in the morning. Then, too, I was in something of a hurry that night, for I had an appointment; and I may ns well state here that it was with a young lady who I hoped would be my wife before many months. I hastened to my boarding house, ate my supper, and then went over to Mr. Warner’s, wearing the coat with the money in it, as I did not feel easv about leaving it in my room. Carrie was at home,, of course, as she was expecting me, and, leaving my hat and coat in the hall, I went into the parlor. Ido not think a repetition of our conversation would be very interesting, so I will pass it over, merely remarking that nothing occurred to disturb me until I rose to take my leave. Carrie went into the hall for ray coat and hat, that I might put them on by the warm fire; but she came back with only ray }jat. '‘Why, Fred, you certainly did not venture out on such a night as this without an overcoat ?” “No coat!’’l exclaimed, in a dazed sort of way; for the thought of the money flashed upon me so suddenly that it almost stunned me. The next moment I tore past her like a madman, as I was. The coat was gone! Then I was unnerved. I grasped at the stair-rail, and caught it just in time to support myself. Carrie came running out, her face pale with alarm. “Oh, Fred! are you ill ? Let me call mother and the doctor! You are as white as a sheet.” “No, uo, Carrie!” I entreated. “There, I am better now.” And I was better. I was strong, all at once—desperately strong. And what brought about this change ? That simple receipt which I had in my pocket. Anderson had nothing to show that the money had not been paid; and was not my unaided word as good as his ? °

I was foolish enough to believe that I could brave it through, aud I grew confident and quite easy at once. “There, Carrie, lam much better now. The room was too warm, I guess. So some sneaking thief has dodged iu and stolen my coat? Well, let it go. It was an old one, and now I’ll li&ve a better ono.” “But was there nothing in the pockets !” asked Carrie. It is strange how suspicious guilt will make us. 1 really thought Carrie suspected me. and an angry reply was on the end of ray tongue. I suppressed it, however, aud uttered a falsehood instead. “Nothing of consequence, Carrie. A good pair of gloves and some other trifling notions.” “I am glad it is not worse, Fred. Now, if you will wait a moment, I will get you one of father’s coats to wear home.” Thus equipped, I left her. You may guess that my slumbers that night were not very sound, nor very refreshing. I never passed a more miserable nighty and in the morning my haggard looks were the subject of remark. “Why, Fred, you look ns though you met a legion of ghosts last night,” said Winston. “What is the matter?” “I had a bad night of it,” I answered with a sickly smile. “And you’ll have another if you’re not careful; you had better keep quiet today. By the way, did you write to Anderson ?” I do not know how I managed to reply, for the question set me shivering from head to foot, and I was so wean that I could scarcely sit in my chair. I must have answered in the affirmative, however, for he said: “Then we may look for something from him to-morrow or next day.” Immediately afterward he added: “Why, Fred, you shiver ns though you had the ague, and you are sweating like a butcher! You’re ill, man. Come, jump iDto iny trap, and I’ll take you home.”

I was glad of the chance to get away, and on reaching my home I locked myself in. Ah 1 those were terrible hours that I passed, and, night coming on, brought me no Telief. Can you not guess what I was meditating ? Coward that I was, I had at last resolved on self-destruc-tion. I commenced my preparation with the same calmness and deliberation that I would have used in the most common transaction. I wrote a short explanation for Carrie, another for Mr. Winston, a third for my poor mother; and I sealed them all. In a fourth envelope I enclosed the receipt to Mr. Anderson. All this accomplished, I went to my secretaire and took out my revolver. Having examined the cartridges to make sure that there would be no failure, I sat down before the fire, nnd lifting the revolver, I placed its cold, death-like muzzle against my forehead. In another second I should have been lifeless; but juat as my finger began to press the trigger, there came a tap on my door. It startled me, and, hastily eoncealing my weapon, I called out that I could admit no one. “Not me, Fred?” I 'tnew Carrie’s voice, u» • yearning

to look on her loved face got the mastery of me. Quietly slipping the telltale letters, which I had left on the table, into my pocket, I opened the door. “Oh, Fred, you are really iH !’’ exclaimed Carrie the moment the light fell ou my face. “Why did you not send for me? Aren’t you better?” “Worse,” I answered, husk : ly; “but Carrie—good hdavens ! ” As 1 uttered this exclamation I started back, and then forward; and then—l scarcely know what, for hanging across Carrie’s arm was my overcoat! Recovering from my astonishment, I drew out eleven thousand seven hundred and fifty dollars and twenty-three cents. You have heard about, and perhaps seen, the singular capers of a madman, or the wild antics of those crazed with rum, or grotesque dancing of savages. Well, judging from what Carrie told me and from the appearance of my apartment after it was over, I am led to believe that, were it possil le to concentrate the three above mentioned species of demons into one 1 was possessed thereby. Rut I cooled down after awhile, and just in time to sav- Janie's head a thump from the chair I had selected in my crazy waltz. Then I asked for an explanation. It was the simplest thing imaginable. Ido not know why 1 had not thought of it before. It was simply a ‘blunder of Carrie's father. He had rpiatakeu my coat for his own, and worn it down town, never dreaming'that a small fortune was lying idly in\he pocket. I tent Mr. Anderson his receipt, handed over the money to Winston, and went right on with my duties, a wiser, and, I hope, a better man.—[Drake’s Magazine.

RELIABLE RECIPES.

Ego Sandwiches. —Egg sandwiches are simply made as follows: Chop hardboiled eggs fine with a cucumber pickle, largo or small, according to the number of eggs. Pepper and salt, adding a little made mustard, and rubbing very smooth with a silver spoon. Spread between thin slices of crustless buttered bread. Pile on a plate on a folded napkin. Good Ci.am Chowdkr. —For a good clam chowder, take twenty-four medium sized hard-shelled clams. Wash and cut in slices half a dozen new potatoes. Put them into a large porcelain-lined saucepan containing two quarts of cold water. Add one white onion, chopped fine, two sprays of aoup celery, also chopped fine, and the green leaves of three or four stalks of parsley. Add a tablespoonful of butter and one of salt. Now put the kettle over the fire and let the water come slowly to the boiling point, and boil for about twenty minutes. At the end of this time take a large slice of fine larding pork, cut almost half an inch thick, free it from the'vind and cut it into little cubes. Let this pork stand in a saucepan at the hack of the fire for about ten minutes after the chowder is put over. Then bring it forward and fry the scraps brown in the fat in the pan and add them to the chowder, leaving out the grease which has tried out of them. Add now to the chowder four nice tomatoes, cut in small pieces, and a sprig of thyme. Cook twenty minutes longer. Cut each clam in four equal parts, and add them, with half their juice, to the chowder. Let the whole boil for two minutes more, but no longer. Draw the kettle to the back of the stove and test the chowder. If necessary, add a little salt and a saltspoonful of black pepper. A tablespoonful of Worcestershire sauce is also a good addition. Break in pieces two large pilot crackers anil add to the chowder, stir it well, cover it, and let it stand for three or four minutes. Then serve at once. This recipe may read strangely to some people who have been accustomed to pacK in clams, crackers, potatoes and other vegetables at the beginning, and boil the chowder for three quarters of an hour. The result of such cooking is that the dams are merely toughened. Clams and oysters should be cooked as quickly as possible, and are rendered tough and indigestible by lengthening the process.

A War Incident.

The cry of “Ou to Richmond” awakened no enthusiasm in the hearts of the “:ld Ohio” when they found themselves en route, as prisoners of war, for that famous capital; nor were they enthusiastic when they halted for the night and prepared to sink supperless into dreamland. The 54th Virginia Regiment had the Ohio boys iu charge. The Virginia boys soon begad*to prepare supper, and in the preparation the Ohio boys were not forgotten. Old Virginia hospitality showed itself even in war. The men soon made their appearance with coffee-kettles, cornbreail,’ and bacon, the best that they had. In a few minutes the coffee was steaming, the bacon cooked, and prisoners and captors sat down together around the camp-fire, “like kinsmen true and brothers tried.” The hungry, grateful Ohio boys ate with a relish such as no one can appreciate unless he has been in like situation. No wonder there was a warm spot in every heart of the fid Ohio, ever after, for the generous 54tli Virginia. A fresh slide in the magic lantern gives another of these shifting war pictures. In the distance is Mission Ridge, which has just becu stormed. That long line of prisoners passing over the pontoon bridge and up the stony mountain road is the 54th Virginia. A soldier on duty at Kelly’s Ferry asked indifferently of one of the prisoners, as the regiment passed, “What regiment is that ?” “The ssth Virginia,” was the reply. In an instant the loungers sprang to their feet, and rushed to where the 54th had been put in camp. “The 54th Virginia is in camp at the Ferry,” was heard on all sides, and the boys of the fid Ohio rushed into the camp of the prisoners. The Ohio boys brought out the boxes they had just received from home. Coffee and sugar, beef and canned goods, and in fact, the best they had, was freely lavished upon their former friends. They remembered gratefully their debt of honor, and paid it nobly. It was the same old scene over, with the shading reversed. For one night, at least, both “Confeds” and “Feds” enjoyed again the sweet grace of hospitality that could bring a smile even to the grim visage of war.—[Blue and Gray.

Op ALP.the various legal measures that have been adopted in order to discourage suicide none has worked very well. Since the New York law was passed but a single conviction has been had. under it. This was twelve years ago, when a man undertook to drown himself. He was rescued and was sentenced to Sing Sing, and he is there yet. Individual banana dishes are now placed upon well-appointed luncheon tables. You can buy Sarah Bernhardt’s autograph for $4.

FOB YOUNG FOLKS.

TWO LITTLE BOSRB. One merry summer day l Two roses were at play; All at once they took a notion They would like to run away; Queer little roses; Funny little roses, To want to run away! They stole along my fence; They clambered up my wall; They climbed into my window To make a morning call I Queer little roses; Funny little roses. To make a morning call! —[New Orleans Picayune.

LITTLE XUTMEG-GATIIKRERB. Fancy picking nutmegs! This is what the children of South America and the tropical islands do almost as soon as they can walk. Gathering nutmegs is something like gathering chestnuts. Nut-meg-trees are planted in groves. The trees are twenty feet apart and have long, green leaves, very dark and glossy. The nutmeg is enveloped in a husk about the size and shape of a ruaty-coat apple. When perfectly ripe, the husk splits, and a nut falls out. The kernel of she nut is the nutmeg of commerce. It is beaten from the husk by children, who climb the nutmeg-trees and thrash the branches with poles. The air is sometimes so heavy with perfume that tire young nutmeg-gatherers are overcome by its heaviness, and have to be borne from the grove on the shoulders of companions.—[New York Ledger. bird catching in it\ly. A well known gentleman relates the following story of the manner in which birds are captured in Italy: “Once when I was in Florence, a lady came to me and said, ‘Do come with me and hear those birds sing, oh! such wonderful notes!’ There was a room full of birds in very small cages, aud these birds were all blind; they had had their eyes put out. In the night the owners take them outside the city and hang the cages iu trees. The trees nre then all smeared with tar. These birds keep up their pitiful singing aud other birds are attracted to the cages, and they get stuck on the tar and then they are caught, and their eyes are put out. And, these birds are killed and sent to America for ladies to wear on their bonnets! After lienriug this story, do you think you can ever wear a bird on your hat?”

AN INTERESTING BEGGAR. One afternoon, while strolling along the G’alle Ancha in Cadiz, I met several acquaintances at the eoruer of that street aud the Plaza Constitution. AVe stopped for a friendly chat, and were about to separate, when my attention was attratced to a handsome French poodle-dog at my side, seated on his haunches, and looking up in my face. His comical little countenance expressed so much intelligence that I stooped and patted him on the head, when he commenced barking and violently working his fore legs, after the manner of dogs who have .been taught “to beg.” “What can lie wish?” said I. “Surely not my cigar?” But having seen dogs [who were fond of tobacco, I held my cigar towards him. As soon as he smelt it he snorted and bounded away, only to return immediately aud resume his previous position. I was now puzzled, but seeing several beggars in the neighborhood, concluded that he belonged to'one of them, and desired a piece of money. Taking a large “copper” from my pocket, I held it before his eyes. So great were his manifestations of delight that I was certain I had divined his wants. I threw the money to him, which ho caught in his mouth, and running across the street, disappeared into a bakery. To our astonishment, lie emerged from the shop in a few moments, bearing in his mouth a neatly wrapped bundle. One of my friends tried to take it from him, but he would not allow this, and insisted on placing it at my feet. I picked it up, removed the wrapper, and found a large bun dusted with sugar. This he ate with great relish. We remained for a while to see if he would besiege another passerby; but no, he had had enough for the present, and coiling himself up in the doorway, settled down for a quiet nap. This exhibition of intelligence I think worthy of note, and particulerly so for the reason that the dog was apparently acting independently, there being: no one near to prompt or direct him.—[Harper’s Young People. A WORD TO THE ROYS. Charles Dudley Warner, a famous writer, once wrote the following: “If I owned a girl who had no desire to learn anything, I would swap her for a boy. If the boy did not - desire to learn, I would trade him off for a violin or a Rook wood vase. You could get something out of a violin and you could put something into the vase. The most useless of things is that into which you can put nothing, and from which you can get nothing. The boy or girl who has no wish to know anything is the one and becomes the other.” The boy, who dosn’t care what people think of him, or whether he amounts to anything or not, is iu a vary bad way, iudeed. In the first place, it shows a lack of pride. Now, there are two kinds of pride; the true and the false. False pride is that which makes a boy ashamed to carry the market basket for his mother; ashamed to wear old clothes when his father can’t offord him auy better; ashamed to say “No” when he ought, and ashamed to ask questions about things he ought to know, but don’t. A boy who is all that is very likely to argue “what’s the use,” when he is advised to stick to his studies, to be thorough in his work and conscientious in all his dealings. There was once a little hoy who become interested in earthquakes, and he asked questions of everybody ou the subject of earthquakes until he was old enough to read about them for himself. Then he became so interested in the subject that he began to study the cause of these disturbances; from that he went into the study of electricity, and began to study machines, and finally learned to put up electric wires and bells. Before he was old enough to go to the high school, he was able to earn a lot of mouey doing these things and had several men working under his direction. That boy was too proud to go through life without learning something of the world he lived in. The golden rule that should guide a boy through life- is, “whatever you do, do it well.” One of the richest men in the country gives the following advice as the road to success; “I want to impress upon you, boys, the necessity of punctuality. If you engage to do anything at a certain day or hour, do not fail to do it. And if you find you cannot, notify the persons you have promised, so that they will not be disappointed. I regard punctuality as one—if not the very—cardinal rule of a successful busi-

n«M career in the store or the shop, be promptly ou hand the very moment you are expected to be there, and do not hurry off in the evening before the proper time. Boys who work by the clock are soon found out, and are not generally in demand when promotions arc to be made, and salaries increased. Cyrus W. Field once told me that he considered half of his success in life to be duo to his punctuality. He was always at lus office on the very minute each morning, and if he made an appointment to talk business to a man he never failed to keep it, “ ‘I have made thousands upon thousands of dollars by being on hand at the right moment, and I consider punctuality as strong a point in a business man's favor, as—well, it is second only to honesty!’ That is the secret of this millionaire’s success. ‘ ‘Once your employer understands that you are faithful in getting to work at the hour he has engaged you to begin, he will have more confidence in you, and yonr chances of promotion will be far better than those of the boy who sneaks in a half-hour late each morning with some poor excuse for his tardiness.” —[New Orleans Picayune.

AROUND THE HOUSE.

Beat carpets on the wrong side first. ltub whitewash spots with strong vinegar. Rub your hands with salt and lemon juice to remove stains. Rub soft grease over tar and then wash in warm soda water. The tiny red ant is one of the worst of all household pests, and its extermination is exceedingly difficult if not impossible. Pouring kerosene oil into the cracks which they infest will drive them away for awhile, but they will soon return. They may be kept out of sugar buckets by making a broad chalk mark around them about half way up. The insects cannot crawl over the chalk. It is a good thing to put a sauoer of grease by the place where they seem to come from. They will swarm to it, and the grease will hold them. When the saucer is well covered scrape the contents into the tire. Those ants atdeast will not return to make trouble. This operation, repeated every day, will lessen the amount of the plagues, although even this will not exterminate them.

A Great Canal.

Just why it is that large canal projects always cost more than the greatest preliminary estimates is difficult to explain. The Panama projet was recognized by the best engineers to be extremely visionary from the first, but the Manchester, (England,) ship canal, a work which will undoubtedly be carried through, is requiring vast sums far exceeding the original estimates. About $7,500,000 is needed to open the canal for traffic to Manchester on the assumption that the work can be completed by the end of this year, and certain deferred work may increase this sum by $1,525,000. Four Parliamentary bills are being promoted, one to authorize the canal company to borrow $10,000,000, a second to allow the corporation of Manchester to add $10,000,000 to the $15,000,000 it has already loaned to the canal company; a third to empower the town of Saiford |o loan $5,000,000, and a fourth to empower Oldham to advance $2,500,000. With all three of the cities most interested in the canal willing to make the necessary advances, it would be an easy matter to complete the ~crk were it not for the fact that there is a string tied to these offers of aid, which would be strong enough to transfer the control of the enterprise from the stockholders to the corporation of Manchester in case they were accepted in their present form. The portion of the canal already opened has thus far been able to take in receipts more than covering the working expanses, although toll was charged on but a small portion of the tonnage.—[New York News.

London’s Big Ben.

Between the palace yard at Westminster and the top of the clock tower which marks the hours fer Parliament there are 420 steps. The clock from which Big Ben strikes the hour is the largest in the world. Looking at the dial from the northern footway of Great George street, or from the embankment, it looks as if its diameter might be equal to the space that a man of medium size could cover with outstretched arms. This estimate hardly does the dial justice, for its diameter is twenty-three feet. From the ground the minutes on the dial look like odinary minutes, and as if they were close together. As a matter of fact they are a foot apart. The numerals are two feet long. The minute hand, with the counter balance—the heavy end that projects beyond the center of the dial—is fifteen feet in length. This hand is so massive that during a snowstorm sometimes the clock is retarded by the weight of the flakes that alight upon it. Twenty men could stand under Big Ben in a rainstorm and escape a wetting if the rain fell in an exact perpendicular and stayed where it fell. The new r light at the top of the Parliament tower is forty-three steps higher than Big Ben. The old light was twenty-four steps higher still. The new light is 2,000 candle power. When the light is being fixed two men stand in the lantern, and they have plenty of room. The Parliament light is now a conspicuous object in London.—[Pall Mall Gazette.

Aigrettes as Ornaments.

The aigrette is a tuft of graceful thin feathers taken from a kind of heron called egret; and not only are these poor birds killed expressly to furnish ornaments for ladies’ bonnets and hair, but they are killed at the time when they ought especially to be protected—namely, during the breeding season. They build their nests close together, and the feather-hunters look for these breeding-places. The best time to attack them is when the young birds are fully fledged but not yet able to fly; for at that time the solicitude of the parent birds is greatest, and, forgetful of their own danger, they are most readily made victims. They hover in a crowd over the heads of their despoilers, their boldness making it as easy as possible to shoot them down; and when the slaughter is finished and the few handfuls of coveted feathers plucked out, the poor birds are left in a heap to fester in the sun in sight of their orphaned young, that cry for food and are not fed.—[Animal World. Ali. tub mountain sheep in Colorado are owned by the state and carefully protected. The penalty of slaying a mountain sheep in Colorado is 10 years in the penitentiary. This is probably the severest game law on the statute book oi any state, but it is occasionally violated.

A BLIND SPORTSMAN.

Remarkable Second Sight of a Connecticut Farmer. Many stories are told of the wonderful things done by persons who have lost the sense of sight, but it would be hard to find in the common walks of life a blind person who could successfully compete with William llill, a blind farmer of Hamburg, Conn., in the performance of strange acts, says the Boston Globe. Hill is about thirty-four years old, and with the exception of being blind, is in perpect physical condition. He lost his sight in a strange way when he was a boy of sixteen years. In company with a number of bis associates he was bathing in a mill pond. A thunderstorm came up suddenly. The bathers did not leave the water. A flash of lightning came and struck the water near Hill, who was partially paralyzed by the shock. His companions got him ashore and he recovered, but his eyesight was affected and in a few weeks he became totally blind. With the loss of the sense of sight his other senses became more acute, especially that of hearing, until it became possible for him to measure long distances by the sounds that he heard. He recognized his friends readily by the sound of their voices, and he could distinguish the cows and oxen about the farm by their lowing. When Hill was twenty-two years old his father died, and the work of carry-iog-,on*the -farm devolved upon Min. He directed the planting of the crops and ploughed the fields himself. *He developed a talent for woodworking and made many pieces of furniture that it would puzzle an accomplished workman with perfect eyes to duplicate, He built an ox cart and a sleigh equal to any ever tamed out by a professional wagonmaker. Even in his earliest boyhood Hill was very fond of outdoor sports. For a time after his sight was destroyed he was obliged to abandon the field, but he couldn’t long contain himself. Two years he stood it. Then one day he surprised his mother by saying that he proposed to go up the meadow brook and see if he couldn’t hook a few trout. His mother tried to dissuade him from doing it, but he was determined, and getting his tackle he started out. Mrs. Hill sent one of the farn hands, unknown to William, to watch him, for fear that he would become lost, or fall into the stream. Hill was gone three hours, and then returned with a string of fine trout. He was elated over his suocess, and from that time he has followed the sport as fearlessly and as successfully as he did when ahoy. He says that he feels as confident of himself in a locality with which he is familiar as he would if he could see all the objects about him. He seems to be guided by a sense to which he was a stranger before he became blind. In a strange locality he is influenced by the same sense, but realizes the necessity of being cautious. For some reason the domestic animals about the farm show a regard for the man that seems like sympathy. The sound of his voice brings them about him and when he goes into the field to yoke the oxen he calls the animals by name and they obediently take the place under the yoke assigned to them. He rides horseback when traveling a long distance. He never attempts to drive a horse to wagon unattended, for fear of a runaway. In the saddle he considers himself capable of govening the beast.

Perhaps the most wonderful thing Hill does is to shoot birds. In the season for quail and partridge shooting and duck hunting he is in the fields or meadows a good share of the time, and often alone. There are extensive hunting grounds on the farm, and with them he is very familiar. Partridge and quail are the birds that he hunts most successfully. These he always shoots on the wing, judging the distance and the direction in which they are flying by the sound they make. His aim seldom fails him and the game that falls uhder the gun is brought to him by a thoroughly trained retriever. He frequently brings home-from a day’s outing a'string of a dozen birds. When duck shooting he is accompanied by other hunters. This sport is a popular one in the marshes along the Connecticut River. The most favorable hour for shooting is at twilight, and on such occasions Hill is a valuable ad junct to a hunting party, for his acute hearing enables him to anuotmee the approach of a flock of ducks some seconds before they are sighted/ In shooting this kind of game he his guided by sound, as in-the shooting of quail and partridge. As an amateur checker player he has never met his match. This game is a popular one in the country districts of Connecticut, and in the country grocery stores a good many men can be found who are expert players. For miles around Hill’s home liis fume has spread, and frrquently he is challenged by some player who thinks that he is able to defeat him. He has the record of winning every game played during the past five years. He plays the game slowly, carefully feeling out the position of the men on the hoard with his fingers.

Will Good Roads Pay ?

Mr. Stephen Favill, of Madison, Wis., in an article on highways, says: “But the question of whether or not it will pay to build and care for our country roads is fortunately not all theory. But the practical demonstration has been worked out. England, France, Germany, and many other of the European countries have solved this problem to their entire satisfaction, and some parts of our own country have tried this matter far enough to prove that as a business venture it is one of the very best for the farmers. There bas been no general taking hold of this matter in this country as in European countries, but some of the States have laws allowing counties to bond and borrow money to build roads. My time will allow me to give only one or two of the many good results that have come from good roads. In Union County, N. J., the road improvement fever got hold of the people, and they expended $350,000 in macadamizing their roads, and the testimony of those best qualified to knew is that the increased valuation of their lands would more than six times pay the cost. Just one case of a man owning 123 acres that he valued at $65 an acre and could not find a buver at that, had, since the advent of good roads, refused S2OO an acre for the whole tract. I do not claim that all land would be advanced in price at that rate, but I am confident that the iucrease in the value of our farming lands that would follow the advent of good roads in our State would very much more than pay all the cost of building them, to say nothing of the convenience and luxury of having a road that could be used at any season o f the year.”

“LONG TOM.

HISTORY OF A FAMOUS AMURI. CAN C ANN OX. A Naval Gun Which Did Good Work Against the British in IS 14—For the World’s Fair. “Long Tom” arrived in New York Tuesday in the Portuguese steamer Vega, from Fayal. “Long Tom” has a history and a notable one, being indeed the most famous gun in the world. It was used on the United States vessel General Armstrong, in its battle with a British fleet at Fayal in 1814, the Armstrong being; commanded by Capt Samuel Chester Reid. The old gun is intimately connected with one of # the most thrilling encounters of the naval war with Great Britain, in which American ships and American seamen proved themselves the best and bravest on the seas. It is also the gun that is associated with the story that ha 9 been told in prose anjl poem of how “Capt. Reid finally scuttled his vessel by firing through her bottom with his ‘Long Tom,”' which suggested this expression from, the English commander: “If this is the kind of men the Yankees are. the Lord deliver us.” The gun was lost from the private schooner Armstrong in the battle of Fayal, after a memorable battle with a British squadron, and was recovered afterward and mounted in the Castle of San Juan, Fayal. Before Mx. .Blaine retired from the State Department he learned that the King of Portugal was willing to present the gun to the United States Government, and Gen. George S. Batchellor, the Amerioin representative at Lisbon, was instructed to present the compliments of the United States to the king, and say that his courtesy was accepted. The gun, says the Tribune, is not a 42-pounder, as has been said heretofore by some, but is a 24-pounder, the largest gun carried by the Armstrong. She had nine guns in all, the others being 9-pounders, or, as they were called, “long nines.” The “Long Tom” was the largest and longest on the vessel—hence its name. It .was also the best gun on the ship, and was mounted on a pivot forward as a bow chaser. In the war of 1812 a number of vessels were fitted out»as privateers, carrying the American flag into every navigable water on the globe, the purpose of the privateers being to destroy British commerce wherever it could be found. . These privateers were fleet, heavily-armed and manned with courageous American tars anxious to cross cutlasses with the enemy wherever found, and they did not hesitate to give battle to ships of the line. In fact, the Yankees were “spoiling for a fight” against John Bull’s rank and file, day and night. All they craved was the opportunity. This was a tune when armored plating had not br n made, before the steam engine war ued into the warship, long before lorpedos became a part of the ship's armament, and before revolving cannon were invented.

The Armstrong was commanded by the son of a Connecticut woman, the only survivor of her family in Arnold's massacre at Groton, Ct., in 1781, and the son was born with that spirit “Vengeance is mine, I will repay.” Captain Reid came from good fighting stock. It was in September, 1814, that the Armstrong put into Faval for provisions, and soon afterward a British squadron of three vessels—the Plantagenet, 74 guns ; the Rota, 38 guns, and the Carnation, 18 guns— • under Admiral Cochran, put into the same harbor. AVhen the British commander caught sight of the Armstrong he distributed his vessels to make escape of the privateer an impossibility. Believing that the enemy intended to capture his vessel, Capt. Reid spread his nets and prepared for action. On the following morning all the boats of the British squadron, fully armed and equipped, put out toward the American. Capt. Reid’s warning to them were of no avail, and when they approached dangerously near he opened fire upon them and drove them back. Then, expecting a general attack, Capt. Reid put his ship nearer the shore. The expected came at midnight, and the fight was at close quarters, and fierce and bloody. Three of the enemy’s were sunk. Theßritish outnumbered the Americans, and they were more strongly equipped and this gave them courage to swarm over the side of the American, swinging their cutlasses in every direction and crying “No quarter.” The Americans returned the cry, and shot the enemy down with their pistols and prodded them with their long pikes. The sides of the vessel and the water were stained with blood, and victory was with the Americans. The Fayal authorities warned the British commander on the following morning that hostilities must be discontinued, but the latter replied that he intended to destroy the privateer and kill her officers and crew if he knocked down the entire town. Capt. Reid waited for the final attack, but he did not have to wait long. The three British vessels with their 13# guns and 2,000 men. against nine guns and ninety men, opened fire, and when he found that further effort would prove futile, Oapt. Reid lowered boats, scuttled his ship and set her on fire, and then pulled for the shore. The British threatened to pursue the Americans, but Capt. Reid seized a stone fortress and dared them to follow. They didn’t. ' But the British vessels were so badly damaged that they had to return to England for repairs. The story of the fight is told in these lines by James Jeffrey Roche, recently published in the Century , the ballad ou .“The Fight of the Armstrong Privateer.” Tell the story to your sons, Of the gallent days of yore, When the brig of seven guns Fought the fleet of seven-score. From the set of sun till morn, through the long September night. Ninety men against two thousand, and the ninety won the fight— In the harbor of Fayal the Azore. “Long Tom” is to be exhibited at the World’s Fair, and no doubt will be an object of much patriotic interest.

The Spots on the Cigar.

The pale round spots, about as large in circumference as a tack-bead, that one sees on cigars now and then, are said to be caused by dew drops and rain drops, that act as burning glasses when the sun shines through them on the green tobacco leaf. Be that as it may, the florists declare that palms are often burned by knobs and corrugations in the glass roofs of their greenhouses, as these irregularities tend to focus the sun’s rays. The * effect of this strong heat on the palm leaf—which is as sensitive to heat as it is to cold—is to cause a rusty brown spot to appear on the green. Sometimes the apparent motion of the sun, in passing westward, will trace a line of scorch across ‘the leaf. Other plants are less susceptible to sue rays.