Rensselaer Republican, Volume 20, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 September 1887 — Page 6

LEFT IN THE PIT.

It was past noon when I started for the home of my betrpthed. Bat my horse was good and 1 rode hard. I might he at Trevesy hr mehtfaH. There was a sprinkle of snow on the ground, and a feathery shower fell lightly around me, of which I thought nothing tiit srmeet. TUP short;“dark dav was" over at 5 o’clock, and at that hour a Sharp wind sprang up and the snow began falling thickly. 1 felt somewhat blinded by the big flakes, ever living downward and onward iunTarouud me, like a cold, patient army, whose onslaught could never be stayed or driven back. • Still I pushed pn, though the beast I rode shook and,trembled and strove, in his dumb way, to rea-on against my headstrong will. And now, with some dismay, I suddenly parcel red by the sinking of my horse even to 1 1 is flanks in heaped snow, that, bewildmd by the whiteness, he and 1 had lost the road. It was but a rough one afthe best,* for 1 was in a wild country where mines were many and men few. Extricating my poor steed from the.drilled snow wherein he floundered, I rested him a moment and shouted for help Again and again my cry came hack to me, following on the wings of fire cold wind, but no other souud broke the deathly stillness of the night. • , Ob, for the saving light in some charitable window! But there was none—only snow and dark ners, darkness ami snow all around. 1 thought it terrible, and yet in a little span of time from this I would have deemed it paradise to be lying lonely in the heaped snow upon this dreary moor. I put my horse to a sharp canter, and he went about a furlong blindly, then stood still, snorting with terror. I

strove to urge him on, but he refuted to obey either whip or spur. Seeing no reason for my horse’s fright or stubbornness, I sparred him sharply, and urged him with angry voice to obedience. His wonderful obstinacy compelled me at length to dismount, and, with drawn sword in my hand, prepared for hignwayman or footpad, I dragged him onward by the bridle. Upon this he made one hasty plunge forward, then stopped, and at the same instant the earth went from beneath my feet and I fell—fell I knew not whither, down, down into the deep darkness, unfathomable, terrible as the great pit. I can scarcely say that I thought as I fell, yet I knew I was going to death—knew I was descending one of those unused shafts that lie on many a Cornish moor —knew that my bones would be unthought ol in its dismal depths forever. ' But even at that instant my flight was arrested, and I hung in mid air, clinging by my hands to what I knew not. It was my sword, which I had forgotten that I held. By a miracle it had thrust itself, as I fell beneath the earth and the rocks, in the side of the shaft, and, jammed fast it held me up. I cannot explain how this occurred. I only know that it was so. As the cry for mercy escaped my lips the mercy came. My sword caught in the interstices of the rock and I was held up, my feet dangling over the abyss, and my hands clinging to the hilt of my good blade. It was as firm as a wedge; I Could feel that in spite of my trembling. Yet my position was horrible. To remain thus, to hold on, was torture unutterable, but to yield, even for a moment, was death— There was no hope of relief even for hours; there was no possibility of relief of posture; there was nothing but strong endurance and courage to carry me through. I waited, 1“ suffered, I prayed. It was a night to me of fire. The winds blew and the snow 'ell. but the cold touched me not. I had i alien;- too deeply in the shaft for that, even if my tortured blood could have felt it. _ Morning broke at last,.and hope grew witb it. At intervals I had called aloud through the night, and now with scarcely an intermission 1 raised my voice in° cries for help, I did this till weariness Btopped me, and I rested in agonized hope of a voice in reply. There was none. No sound reached me. I wa9 in 1 »y grave alone. I called again, again, again. I husbanded my voice. I drew in my breath and shouted with the strength of despair. There wa6 no answer. s . The sun traveled upward, and I knew it was high noon, though to me the stars were visible likewise; yet the midday rays shone somew hat into the shaft and showed me how I hung. The pit was quite, perpendicular; it sloped slightly from my feet upward, and I had found rest for one foot on the ledge of the rock. Oh, the ease of my anguish from this merciful rest! Tears sprang to my eyes as I thanked God for it. The sun had shown me that to climb out of the pit unaided was impoßsiblejSb I called for help again, and called until my voice failed me, I ceased to call, and night fell on me again. As the hours crept on kind of madness seized me; phantoms sprang up from the pit and tempted me to plunge below; horrible eyes glared on me. But worst of all was the 6ound of water—a purling rill flowing gently in mv very ears, trickling drdp by drop in sweetest music, horribly distant. Water! To reach water I would willingly die; but I knew it was madness, so I resisted the fiery thirst that would have me release

my hold and perish. Water! Yes there was water at the bottom of the shaft, fathoms deep below my feet, but | I could only reachr that to die; and I there was the water on the fair earth, fathoms above me—water I should never see again. 1 grew ditty—sick—blind. 1 should have fainter!—have fallen- —died; hut as ! I leaned fiiy head against the rock, I | felt as though a cold, refreshing hand I was laid Upon it suddenly. I It was water! It was not madnesss—!it was water. A tiny stream trickling l t 11 • , through the bare wall of rock, like dew from heaven. I held forth ray narched tongue and caught the drops as they fell, and as I drank mv strength was renewed, and hope ami the desire for life grew warn within me again. And yet on this the second night of iliy imprisonment 1 cared not so passionately —I looked not so eagerly for succor. My limbs were numbed, my brain deadened; life was ebbing toward death; a shadow at times fell over my eyes, and' if I still held to the hilt of my sword, if ,my feet sought still the ledge that rested them, they did it mechanically from habit and not from hope. I think sometimes I was not in my. V * Q right mind. I whs among green fields ami woods; I was gathering flowers; I was climbing npouii'ains; and from these visions 1 invariably awoke to darkness—darkness above, around — darkness below, hiding the abyss that hungered greedily for my life. And no friendly face, no voice, no footfall near. Not even a step, through all these slow, slow hours. If passing peasant through the day had heard the lonely cry rising from the depths, he had set it down to ghost or pixy, and had passed on his frightened way regardless.

And now that night was nearing on, and no rescue. I could not live until morning—l knew that My mind wandered again. My mother was waiting for me; I must hurry home; but I was bound by a chain, in outer darkness, and I was going to die. There was no Christian in all the land to succor me — I was forgotten and forsaken, left in the pit—and I would unclasp my hands and fall and die. No. I would call again once more “Help! help! Mercy! help!” As my fainting voice died in the dark depths and quivered up the glimmering sky, I felt hope die with it, and I gave up all thought of life. I turned mv eyes toward my grave below, and murmered with parched lips: “Out of the deptiis have I cried unto thee, O Lord!” The little rill that had saved my life hitherto still trickled on, and its silvery murmur, as it jrdpped on the rocks below was the sole sound that broke the deathly silence around me, My prayer was over, and I had not relinquished nay hold. -I was stronger than I had deemed myself. I weuld«crv out again, “Helpfhelp! help!” I stopped. I listened. A sound was floating on the wind. Coming, coming, joining the drip, drip, drip of the rill — then dying, then returning. Listening with my whole being, I recognised the sound. Bell—church bells—chimes chiming in the New- Year “O, God, have mercy on me! have mercy on me!” Bells ringing in the new r year—helis chiming in the ears of friends, telling of sadness and hope—bells clashing in at merry intervals between' -music and laughter, loving greetings, kisses and joy. Will no one in my father’s house take pity on me? Am I missed nowhere? The hells chime a feasting and gladness, and I am here hauging between life and death. The jaws of the grave are be-uea;h-me, mv joints are broken and the bells chime on. Would it not he a good deed on this New Year’s day to save im? “Oh, feasters and revelers, hear me! - “Help! help! It is Cfiristmas time. Help, for Christ’s sake, good people!” The bells float nearer and drown tindrip of the trickling v.atejyo'and I cry “Help! help!” saying, "Now will I call till I die ” A film grows over my eyes, but ray voice is strong and desperate, as I shout, “Christmastde! For Christ's sake, help, good'Christians!” A great light—a flash of fire! For a moment I deem it death; gazing upward 1 see, amid a glare of torches, faces—o they were angels to uie—eager faces peer- ] ing downward. And close to me swings j a torch, let down into the depths; its? light falls on my haggard face —a great shout rends the night sky. « • “He is .here!the4s safe! —he lives!” . I cannot speak, though my lips move, 1 and my heart stands * still as I See one, | two, three daring men swing thems.elves ! over the'abyss—miners, used to danger i—and in a moment stout arms are | around me and I am borne upward, car- ! ried gently like a child,placed an instant ! on mv feet, and then laid tenderly down t on the earthr—tain so weary, and faint, and worn, that 1 lie with, closed eyes, never striving to say a word of thanks. , "v 7 oi:■-t so near me brink, madam, 1 entreat!” I hear a voice cry sharply. Then I open my aching lids, and bej tween me and the shaft kneels a white ! figure; between me and the sky there j bends a white face, and tears fall down ■j , t|f . upon mv brow fast and warm. It was 'mV betrothed. Florian. But even ; when she stole her little hand in minemine so cramped and numbed that it gave no response to her tenderness — and even when she stooped and pressed her lips to my cheek,! could not breathe a word to thank her. Yet Fioriaa. dear wife. letme.tgiL Taee now that from the depths of my

happy heart there rose a hymn of jqy, ; and I understood from, that moment I that thou wert mine, and I owe mv life tjp thy love. Then thy sweet lips breathed words i that fell upon my soul like manna—- | words of tenderneas and pity that made i the torture of those slow hours in the 1 pit fadeaway, so mightv did this reward seem for mv sufferings. , [ I-was carrkwi'-V* Trevesky. and-as the ! men bore me along, you walking by my ; side, 1 heard them tell the tale of my servants’ fright when mv horse returnted home alone, and how they came to vour father for tidings of me. Then I they whispered of the painful Bearch | through the day and night, the tracking | of my"horse’s hoofs upon the show, and ! the story of the scare! peasant; who all night long had heard the cry of tortured ghosts issuing irom the earth. And the i sad story seized upon ray Florian with ! deadly fear, and turning hack upon the | black moor she tracked the hoof marks * until they stopped upon the brink of j the forgotten shaft, the shaft of the | worked-out mine, well named the Great ; Wheal M ercy. There I was found and saved by her I hail loved so long. And, dearest, as I IV I slowly came hack to li e that New Year's | inprning and faintly whispered to you of ;my pent-up sorrow, vbu, in your great ; pity, thinking of my suffering in the shaft, poured out all your maiden heart j | And your loving words, my Florian,! , were sweeter to me than ever the thrill- | ing Spring had been in the Great j Wheal Mercy. So in a month you were my wife, and ! now I sit by-a happy hearth, and looking down on the happy faces of my wife and child, I thank God for that crowning mercy—thy love, dear one — which saved ine on New Year’s Day from a dreadful death in the shaft of the Great Wheal Mercy.

MISCELLANEOUS NOTES.

Now is the time when the manageif of fall fairs fall foul of each other. Pioche, Cal.,. is raising cucumbers three feet long and ten pounds in weight. The Denver News says the time for sending hostiles so Washington in Pullman cars is past. One reason why the homely girl takes the scholarship prize is because she Jooks into books more than into mirrors. A reymtabte Georgia journal says that a clock down there stopped the moment its owner was arrested, charged with murder, and started again without aid tfie moment he was acquitted. Mrs. Iva Richmond, of Golden, Mich., was thrown into the machinery of a a reaper that she was driving, but her life was saved by her faithful dog, that rushed forward and stopped the team. The Honolula Rifles, about half the tanding army of Kalakaua, are commanded by Colonel Volney V. Ashford, who is a Canadian by birth. He served in the war of the rebellion and is a member of the Grand Army of the Republic. A horse grazing on the bank of Higgiu’s lake, Michigan, saw Mrs. Charles H. Pettit and her little daughter drowning, jumped into the lake, swam out to them, made them understand they were to take his mane, and then carried them safely to the shore. Death Valley, Nevada, is to be turned into an ostrich ranch. A Mexican has fourteen Well-grown chicks that he hatched out there, at his littie ranch near the box-ax works, from eggs brought from, the neighborhood of Los Angles. The eggs were buried iiuthe hot sand, and of flights the ground was covered with blankets to retain the beat it absorbed during the day. The ranch is about 228 feet below the level of the sea. Explosions-in mines might happen occasionally owing to miners not detecting .by scent tne presence of perilous gases —anosmia, or want of the smell sense, being as dangerous in such ca-=es as col-or-blindness in the case of Signalmen. It is perfectly piaiu that to place on watch duty in any edifice where risk of fire is feared a guardian affected with anosmia, or absence of the smell sense, impracticably to speure that the tire shall not be discovered in its incipient stage, The Peruvian Indians, so Humboldt said, could discern the presence of strangers hy their odor; or tlxe Arab, who, as recorded, can detect the scent of burning at a distance of thirty miles. One of the most animated features of the Wild West show, tire lassoing of the huffaio, lias been abandoned in London* The cattle, when the lariat tightened about their necks, made a great fuss, snorting and kicking, creating the impression that they were undergoing severe bodily pain. Mr. Cody denies this, and says that the cattle and the men < were so accustomed to the performance ; that the former suffered no inconvenij ence therefrom, bat rather enjoyed it. The S. P. C. T. A., which is a very for- ! midable institution, diet not take this j view, and a warning notice was served, which, of. course, was respected This i has bad the eflect to induce laziness in Mr. Cody's buffaloes, for they do no more now than canter Rlowly around Tthe ring, and the cowboys and the Indians, who are supposed to be giving a i representation of the buffalo hunt, sometimes trouble to keepYrom running . over them. It is all, however, very ! eves.

PERTINENT QUESTIONS.

Some <Jarations Which the Free Traders Mtj.Flnd Trouble In Answering;. The Philadelphia Press of several day| ago contains the following tariff nuflfror the free traders to cAick: Why an official reporfMrecently published by the London Daily Telegraph sho.jyflJ.hat 30 per cent. at. the children of Britishy workmen in London go to I school every morning without a inouih- | ful of food? Why halfpenny (one cent) dinners for school children failed in Birming- ; ham and other industrial centers, beI cause children could not gqt the money ! to pay for them? I Why., thousands of men are constantly ■ walking the streets of the'great indus- | trial centers without food or Work? Why more than 1,000,000 in a populai tion of 35,000,000 are out of work under free trade? * ~

. Why does John Bright admit that j under free trade the English farmer has \ lost in recent years $1,000,000,000? | Why does Joseph Arch admit tlial in ; fifteen years 800,000 persons have given [ up the cultivation of the soil? Why have the number of persons enI gaged in the ‘ grainful occupations in I England decreased in fifteen years from I 14,786,785 to 11,117,564? Why does Mr. Hoyle say that the j forty-second report of the registrargeneral shows that “one out of every seven of our population end their days as paupers?” Why does the report of the British postmaster general show that in 1875 artisans and laborers constituted 22 84100 per cent.? Why do women working at the forge and anvil the whole week making nails only earn $2.15? Why does the current rate of wages for the common laborer rarely exceed fifty cents per day? Why does Mr. Chamberlain say: “Never before was the misery of the very poor more intense, or the condition of their daily life more hopeless or more depraved,” if free trade has been successful? - Why has the cost of pauperism and crime under free trade increased from $30,000,000 in 1740 to $82,000,000in 1881? Why did Mr. Cobden receive during his lifetime $1,000,000 cash (see Morley’s Life of Cobden) from the manufacturers of Manchester in payment for his services to bring about free trade, if it was a grand principal calculated to benefit the workingmen of all countries, and not a means to cut down the wages of laborers and inciease the profits of monopolists?, . Why has the number employed in the five' principal textile industries declined from 919, ft l7 in 1865 to 853,303 in 886 in England, and the number so employed double in the same period in the United States? Why has the silk industry practically gone to the wall? Why has the linen industry declined in England in the last twenty years and increased 300 pffc cent, in protective Germany? Why have the number of workmen employed in the iron and steel industries in Germany increased since the return to protection 40 per cent, the wages paid 57 per cent, and the average paid to each workman 17.4 per cent? Why are these facts substantially true in many other industries in Germany? Why has Germany increased her exports of manufactured goods under protection when free traders said she would ruin her export trade by returning to protection? Why do the official reports of toe British consuls inform us that the German empire has been so benefited by protection that it is in the atmosphere; that it is the strongest ot the government’s policies? ?■ If protection has been so ruinous to. the why-have we. in 25 years of it —. A. Increased our population 20,000, 000? B Doubled the population of our cities? G. Increased our coal product from 14 000,000 tons to 100,000,000 tons? D. Increased our iron ore output from 900,000 tons to 9,000,000 tons? E. Increased the number employed in our racial industries from 53,000 t® 350,000? F. Increased the number employed in our wocl industries from 130,000 persons to 350,000? G. The number employed in our ;j woolen industries 60,000 to 160,000? H. Robbed England of 55,000,000 customers in the cotton industry? I. Employ 35,000 instead of 12,000 in the pottery, stoneware aud glass industries? J. Employ 39,000 instead of "6.000 in the chemical industries? K. Increased our railway mileage, from 30,000 to )_’o 000 miles? L. Increased the nmutier of o.ur farms from 2.000,000 to 4,000,000?M. And their value from $6,000,000,000 to $10,000,000,000? N. Qur pro<ipctipWpflcerp4ls.iwnA,l,s. 230,000,000 bushels to nearly- 3,000,000,000 bttahelß? ■ O. Our live stock from $1,000,000,000 to more than $2,000,000,000? . Oar flocks from 22,000,000 to upwards of 50,000.000? Q. Our wool products from 60,000,000 R. The number of persons engaged in

gainful occupations from 12,500,060, to 17.500,000? S. And our agfpegatt'"of wealth to such figure® that it makes Americans JipjrtfTcon tempi ate the totals and fills "tpe advocates British free trade with envy, haired and other wrongful pas"HfOns tiYTPping to which, isn’t? T. Why are wages of the laborer here Higher than in any ofher country? U. Why do the greater percentage of workingmen own their homes? \ V. Why is labor respected and the | workingman supported in every legitimate endeavor to better his condition? W. Why do their children go to school well fed and well clothed? X. Why do a greater percentage of workingmen become masters there han in any other country in the world? Y. Why do the intelligent American wage earners, as a rule, support protection with theit votes and defeat free traders like Hurd, and Morrison? Z. Because it is the winning cause and the cause of the American people. A!1 of which is respectfully submitted.

THE RISE OF THE NILE.

Result ot tlie Overflow of Its Waters The Work of the Arab Parmer. When the time approaches for the inundation the Arab farmer is all expectancy, says a writer in Scribner’s Magazine describing the overflow of the Nile. His canajs are cleared and he protects his home by dikes and walls of adobe. This done, seated at his door, he watches with satisfaction and gratitude the rise and approach of the water which holds his little wealth. It is several months rising to its greatest height and then as slowly and gradually subsides. Then appears again to his delighted vision the husbandman’s farm. His palm-trees seem to rise to a greater reach and their waving branches add to the sense of calm and content which pervades all. Already his well-filled canals have deb fined themselves and his irrigating machinery is at once put in repair. There is no more use for The boat,- which have served to carry him from place to place during the inundation. They are hidden among the rushes on the banks of the canal. Every available person is now pressed into the service. If the thin deposit of mud left by the departing river is kept moist its value remains at par. If the Lot sun is allowed to play upon it unopposed it soon becomes baked and curls up into tiny cylinders, then breaking into fragments, it falls dead and worse than useless. Therefore the process of irrigation must begin at once. The rude sakiyeh and the ruder shadoof are kept going night and day and give employment to tens of thousands of the people and cattle as well, With these primitive appliances the water is lifted and emptied into the channels which have been dug or diked to receive it. From these larger receptacles the water is ledJo smaller ones, which, over flowing, cover the fields. In a little time than a Nile farm becomes a rare beauty-spot instead of a waste of mud, for now the crops are grown. The lentils bend with their heavy load and the fields of grain turn their well-filled heads from side to side that the ripening sun may change their green freshness into gold. What landscape unadorned by art can be more lovely than such a farm; narrow though its limits may be, with its grove of palms to fan the breeze and scatter their sweet fruitage in the lap of the happy fellahin? Here no weeds grow to annoy him. No stone crops are belched to the surface each year to stop the plow. And this is good, for the plow has no scientifically curved coulter or subsoil attachment. * .

CHEAP WATCHES TRUSTWORTHY

How the Weather and Electric LightAffect Fine Time-Keepers. New York Ma'l and Express. It is estimated that in a single night during the recent damp weather 3 000 mainsprings in as many watches in this city alone were broken. The watches themselves were fine, sensitive timepieces, and yet they were affected by the electrical atmospheric disturbance. Speaking of the matter recently with a well-known horolowr, a reporter for the Mail and Express, who is the owner of athree-dollar-and a half nickel watch, was surprised to learn that his timepiece was probably as good a one as though it had cost 100 times as much. Watches, like women,’’said themanufacturer, “have their caprices. -. They are never entirely trustworthy. Especial!) is this true during the months-of June, July and August. In this season there ; are more mainspring-? broken than dur- , ing all the remaining months of the year. They break in a variety of ways, sometimes snapping in a6core of pieces. yip.ce the eiectric light has been so widely used many watches, and suiie ! line ones, have become so magnetized as [tobe useless. The defect seems to be incurable, and because of it many watches have been cast aside. The cheaper grade of watches, however, seem to be proof against electrical influences, and for that reason I always carry one.” . A paper askedt “Is there a wife in in the city to-day who makes her husband’s shirts?” The following answer = . WM ..^i V edky^^ but he won’t wear ’em.

ROBERT P. PORTER.

LAMENT OF A HOLE.

| Useful in Many Ways it is Often Unappreciated and in Trouble. ; Tidbit*. - ' . I lam a hole. I-m a sociable, goodi natnred hole, and although I have been | pretty nearly everywhere, I can’t help I feeling rather dazed at having sneaked into print. But I hope you won’t think any the less of me : for that. You will find a great many worse things in orint than holes. j My importance in the world is greatly l under-estimated. People never think of me until they need me to crawl into. And when Ido offer my services I am repulsed with Bcorn. A man will dig two days to produce me when he wants a well in his garden, and yet when he finds tae right in his pocket he is not satisfied, and gfeta rid of me as soon as possible, I am a very modes,, hole, too. I always try to seclude myself from the public gaze. List summer I hid in the i surf at Atlantic City, but a big fat man, who was going to bathe fell right into me, and instead o’s apologizing as a.gentleman should, commenced to swear at me. I then squeezed myself very small and took refuge in the bottom of an ocean steamer, thinking I would be out of sight there, but 1 was found out and driven away by the ship’s carpenter. We holes lead terrible lives. All the great inventions of the world are largely indebted to holes for their utility. Cannons and rifles would be entirely useless if there were no holes to put the ammunition in, and even then would be harmless if they couldn’t make holes in what was shot at. Yet nobody ever gives us holes credit for our usefulness. On the contrary, whenever a man gets into trouble he blames it on us aud says he is “in a hole.” Although I look very innocent at the bottom of a flower pot, I am exceedingly dangerous when I start out on my travels. I once stopped over night in a tin roof to study astronomy, but it rained very hard that evening, and a man asleep in a room underneath got wet. He jumped up in a rage and actually begun blaming me, as if I, and not the rain, had wet him! A plumber came next day, and the man chuckled and thought he was rid of’me. But he soon learned differently. I ran along under the bricks as he went to his office that morning, and the mud squirted all over him at every step he took. I then hid in one of his back teeth, and he nearly went wild. The dentists couldn’t dislodge me, and the tooth had to come out. I took pity on him after that and let him alone. Well, I have an engagement at the bank to-night, as some professional friends of mine want to get into a safe deposit vault, and they will need my services and a little gunpowder to accomplish their purpose. So I must bid you good-bye. But you will always find me during the summer at the small boy’s corner of the ball ground fence.

Greely and the Arctic Explorers.

New Bedford, Mass., dispatch Aug. JO. Gen. Greely was given a reception by the Board of Trade here to day. After remarks by the President, the General said there was probably no place better able than New Bedford to appreciate the difficulties of an Arctic exploration. He spoke modestly of his own services and wished to say that though engaged in dangerous duty his ineu had done their best to obey all orders and carry out the spirit of instructions. He went because he was sent. The men und-r him did their best. The scientific-and geographical work laid out for the party was accomplished in a satisfactory manner. When they were forced to retreat from their original camp he was iearful that discipline might not be maintained. In the British navy it is the rule that on a sinking ship discipline is abandoned. He was happy to say that his command, originally of twentyfive men,retreated 500 miles and lived ten months without fire in harmony and in good order. Discipline was somewhat relaxed’ but whenin emergencies it was necessary to enforce it his orders were always obeyed, though it was sometimes in doubt when the orders were issued. Some of his men were foreigners, many of them of little education, but in three years he did not see a blow struck. The newspaper stories of frequent quarrels among the men were baseles. After the froaen hands and feet had dropped from one unfortunate man it was ordered he should receive two of tlie scanty rations, and though iug frem hunger there was no grumbling, certainly not openly, on account of he care for the cripple.

Pure Water the Great Remedy.

Tourist in Globe-Democrat. I have just returned from Las Vegas, and everybody that I meet asks me i about the medical hoc springs at tfjat I place. People always talk of medicinal springs as if the waters were a big prescription. The analysis looks formidable, and it does look at a glance as if the minerals detailed made a Bort of soup out of the springs. Yet the fact is, with the waters of Las Vegas, as those cTthe Hot Springs of Arkansas, that their curative properties ehtiroly in their purity- The total of v foreign matter in the formidable analysis is a small fraction of 1 per cent. greateßt remedy.