i .
4. U
THK SONO OF T1IK SAW.
II T ALBERT. 1-AVNS.
Ac Imitation of HooJ'i "Soon ol tb Shirt")
With osre-woru faofand ragvred cet,
Tint flapped in the wintry blast,
An eld man stood hy a lcjt of wod,
And his saw was flying fast.
Hi saw was flying it,
Ami th air with its music wng,
And lurniug his throat to th dissonant note,
This mournful soix; h Mng :
"Sw I saw! saw!
In raid, in h'Nnt, and in rain,
TiU ovry stroke in the seasoned oak
Seems tWing into my brain.
Thoooat ou my back it old,
M home is a hovel poor.
And ny saw I run from sun till sun,
To keop the wolf from the door.
"?st ! W.W ! saw I
Through knots and gmrla I p.
And my breath comes quick r.s the log grows
thick,
And the saw tuns heavy and slow.
Oh, you in vour ooey rooms,
W ith all that tour hearts desire,
"Ti not the. wood, but human blood,
You're burning upon the tire.
"w ! saw ! saw!
Forever the whole dsy lon,
And at uight it soenu ' that my torturing
drrcms
Are filled with the grating song,
The log is a human life.
My saw is the onirse of time.
And every stroke m t!e seasoned oak
Is a year f;om a wasting prime;
And as 1 near the bark,
More ewiflly does my saw run,
Tili the billet drops, and then it stops
L:e ttme when life is. done.
"Sw ! ssw ! saw !
Hew long i the weary dy
Til! the sun has set. and I sadly get
At nipht rey paltry pay.
Tis. oh, to be a horse
In my rich employer's stall.
If i must toil, and sweat, and moil,
To earn a cup of gall;
For be at least has a care.
And the best ol food has he.
While scant is my share of the hardest fare,
Aud nobody cares for me.''
!w ! saw ! saw !
And shrinking before the blast.
An old man stood by a pile of wood.
And his saw was living fast,
H e saw was flying fist.
And the wind was biting and raw,
And still he severed the logs in two,
Oh, would that the world h'S misery knew,
He sang the "song of the taw."
THE TiXKEE fflULER.
Cue of the most striking headlands on
the coist of South Africa is the bluff of
Nat. Its majestic position, standing
boldly oat from the mainland and rising
straight up from the blue ocean to a
height of several tttndred feet; the bril
liant hues of the thousand and one vari
eties of tropical foliage which cover the
steep sides from top to bottom; the
clear skies above, and the bright plu
mage of tie birds flashing in the sun
all contribute to make the spot .pictur
esque the extreme. In the maze of
Uie gigantic underwood on the bluff at
the tinj of which lam writing, leopards,
tiger-caw, monkeys, serpents, and other
beasts itcd reptiles roamed at will, the
precip'.jfous sides and wild entanglement
insuring protection from the attacks of
the honfor.
Within the last few years a road has
beec riade np the bluff, and a light
house now crowns the summit. The in
ner rif northern side of the bluff forms
one Aide of the Bay of Natal, while low
hills enclose it on the north. The
noTltiern coast is ii regular, ao4 a' sand
hilj nroieetinir far into the bar almost
. .1 ...l.T-
""Vrbor. From this point the harbor bar
etches across, and the wa5r being
tcre very shallow, vessels of largs size
ro prevented from passing into the in
er harbor. On account of the impos
bility of emigrant ships sailing over
bar, the emigrants were transported
m the ships to the beach in the inner
bor in large surf-boats, and frequent
bad to be carried through the surf to
shore by the Kaffirs. On the sand
1 that divides the bay there stands a
ik-oat and the harbor-master's house;
d about two miles up the south shore
situated the town of Durban, the only
ad to which, at the date of this story,
as through the bush-path.
Early one afternoon in the hottest days
f the summer of 185, the thermome
ter registering something like 110 de
grees in the shade, the bay as calm as
glass, aud the beach quite deserted, the
men in the lookout were surprised to see a
long, raKish looking schooner sailing
round the bluff and drop anchor in the
outer buy, No sooner was she brought
to than a whale-boat was lowered from
her side. The harbor-master hurried
dowii, followed bv half a dozen men.
and before the boat reached the shore a
small crowd of whito men and Kaffirs
had gathered around. As the boat ran
on to the shingle, a, tall, sallow man
whose bony frame, sharp eyes and fea
tures proclaimed him an American be
fore he spoke, jumped ashore and asked
in a sharp, nasal tone:
"Who's boss here?"
"I am the port captain," said that
functionary stepping forward. "Do you
want me?"
"Wal, yes, I do some. I'm cap'n of
the Southern Cross schooner thar she
is. She's sprung a bad leak, and I want
to beach tier here and examine her ti.it
bers. My lads is almost done up with
pumiiin'. She's fillin' most awful quick,
and I wont some men to come off and
take a hand at the pumps; my crew
can't keep on very much longer, I
guess."
"Whore are you from, aud where
bound, captain?'11 ahked the harbor
master. ''I've bin cruisin' after whules; there's
a pile of ile aboard. But, sir, if we stop
palavcrin' here I shan't git my ship
beached. What men can you git me
now, quick?"
"There's plon'.y of Kaffirs about," said
the harbor-master; "but you must get
permission before you take any of 'em off
to your ship."
"Permission!" echoed the stranger.
"Wal, I never! Who's got charge of
this lot? Who do they belong to?"
"They don't belong to anybody. This
is a British colony, captain. But you
must get leave to take 'em aboard, or
else you can't have 'em," replied the
harbor-muster in an emphatic manner.
"Who will give me permission you?"
asked the captain.
"No, I can't; you must go and get a
magistrate's order."
"Whar'sbe to be found? Jest show
mc the way. Look sharp, bos, cos I'm
in a mortal hmrry, you know."
V
The harbor-niastor turned away, say
ing: ,
"Up in Durban, and"
"How fur's thut?" broke id the Yankee.
"A good two miles through the bush
path. You'll have to got a horse."
"Whar'll I git one?'" asked tho cap
tain. At this moment Mr. M'Kay, the gov
ernment laud agent, who, full of officious
curiosity, had ootuo down from the cus
tom house, pushed his way through the
crowd and said:
"I'll lend you a horso, captaiu. Come
this way,"
"You're very obligin', sir," said the
captaiD, turning and following the agout,
"I'll accept your offer .and feel honored."
In a few minutes the horse was pro
duced, aud a negro engaged to run ahead
and show the way.
As the captain mounted the horse he
turned to the horlior-mttater and said:
"You'll be able to find boats enough to
take forty niggers off at once, eh?"
"Oh, yes, we can do that." ,
"Wal, now," said tho stranger, as a
parting observation, "ain't it a plaguey
shame that a man can't save his ship
without all this palaver? Here's tho
Southern Cross as smart a schooner as
ever sailed under stars and stripes a
makin' water like mad, and I've got to
go through all this performance afore I
ken git a few niggers to pump." Aud
awav he rode toward Durban.
The magistrate not only gave the cap
tain the necessary order, but opeued a
bottle of wiue, and, drinking to his suc
cess, promised any farther assistance
that might lie in his power; and in two
hours after leaving the harbor tho straa
ger was halt way back again.
During his absence all hiui wen bustle
at the harbor. More Kaffirs had come
down in the hope of beiug hired, aud
great was the amount of speculation as
to the terms likely to be offered. These
atal Hatlirs are runaway Zulus, who.
having once deserted, are barred from
returning to Zululand uuder penalty of
death. They are both brave and intelli
gent, and are a much finer set of men
than the negroes of the west coast.
From the lookout the crew of the
schooner could le seen pumping inces
santly; and Mr. M'Kuy, whose offer was
instigated more by the hope of profit
than by disinterested kindness, for he
was tho owner of the surf-tioats, was
waiting for the stranger's return, and
calculating the amount he would realize
by the business.
Sooner than could have been expected
the captain came riding up at a rattling
pace, and, jumping from the horse, said:
"Here's the permission, boss, all cor
rect and complete. And now, how many
niggers can I have?"
"Just as many as you like," said the
harbor-master; "they are waiting to be
hired."
"Now, sir, what time in the tuornin'
ken I git over the bar ? I draw ten feet
of water."
"Tide flows at six o'clock, and yon
could come over bv about eight, I
should say," responded the barbor-niac-
ter.
"Good. Wal, n5w, you boys, I'll give
yon seven-and-six pence apiece to come
and take turns all night. There's is a
powerful lot of water in the hold by this
time, and you'll hev to work bard, I tell
von.
The pay was high and a murmur of
satisfaction ran through the crowd; those
among the Kaffirs who did not under
stand English having it lexplaiued by
those who did. The terms were good
enough for many a white man standing
around to jump at ; but to work side by
side with niggers was too degrading
and they were obliged to let the chance
pass.
"Well, boys, what sov?" asked the
Yankee.
Seventl voices accepted the terms, and
the harbor-mister asked how many he
would engage.
"Just stand in a row, bovs, and 1 11
pick out the likely ones. Be smart; the
sun'll be down before we git aboard, if
you don't be slick."
The Kaffirs were soon in line. Tho
captain walked np and down surveying
tnem and carefully picking out the
biggest and strongest until he had se
lected alout sixty. This was a large
number for the work; but it was put
down by Mr. M'Kay and the harbor-master
to Yankee enterprise; and in a few
minutes the surf boats with the negroes
aboard were afloat,
"111 come off to you in the morning,
captain, and bring yon a pilot,'' said tho
harbor-muster.
"Wal, now, that's friendly, boss.
Really, if you would I should tako it
kindly," responded the Y'ankee.
"I will," said the harbormaster; "I'll
come off when the tide makes.
"Thank you, sir," suid the captain,
as ho stepped into the whale-boat.
"You won't forget to come, will you?"
"Of course not," replied the harbor
master. 'Good night."
"Good night," said the stranger.with a
grim smile, waving his hand as the boat
jmlled away.
When the surf-boats returned, the men
with them reported the Southern Cross
to be just as smart aud trim a craft as the
captain said he was. I hey also reported
the safe transference of the dingv volun
teers. The sun went down, and in ten
minutes the scorching hot day gives way
to a beautiful tropical night.
Before the sun had arisen on the morn
ing following, the port captain, M'Kay,
and the lookout men, were assembled on
the laud point; aud as the lirst flush of
daylight came rapidly spreading over
land and sea.they trained theireyes across
the bay, eager to catch an early glimpse
of the schooner whose arrival aud condi
tion had caused such unusual excite
ment the day before. Well might they
start and stare in speechless astonish
ment. There was the bay all right, and
there was the luff beyond it, but nothing
else! No Southern Cross t No ship at
all ! Nothing to mark where sho had
been the previous night. What could it
mean ! Could she have broken away
and gone ashore ? Impossible, for the
wind, a mere capful, was off the land.
"She s gone! was the first exclamation
which broke the silence--"clean gone!"
What can it mean?" asked Mr.
MKsy.
'Meuu?" Haid the harbor master
"mean? That we're all born fools that's
wlint it means."
"Why. how?" Rasped the bewildeied
agent.
How?" responded the harbor muster.
"Why was he so particular about the sort
of Kaffirs he engaged? Wouldn't any
-;.
kind of Kaffirs do for working pumps?
Of course, they would. 1 can see it all
now. She was no whaler. Site had
sprung no .leak. Sho was a Yankee
slaver, that's what she was; and wo
ought all to be shot for not seeing it Ih
few."
A thrill of horror passed through the
group, it was clear as daylight now,
"But we saw them pumping tho water
out of her," said tho agent, after a
pause.
"Of course yon did. But you did not
see the other side of her. did you, Mr.
M'Kay?"
"Well, no," responded the Agent.
"No; but if you had you'd have seen
'em pumpiu' the water in! That is what
it is, Mr. M'Kav the rascals were
tl;
very eyes!" continued the burlior master.
"A pretty thing, upon mv word!"
"Beg pardon, sir," said one of the
men; "p'raps she's In sight now, sirif
we was to pull off iu the boat round the
bluff head, sir."
"What's the good of that?" growled
the harbor master,
"On'y p'rops we niicht see what course
sho was a-takiu'; and in ease tho ad
miral was to come round, we could soo
which way she was agoin', sir."
"Oh, she's out o'sight bv this time.
never foar," said the harbor master;
!... .1... I...... l - :i . . ,
uu uiuu iur mm, aim wo win see.
Away went the men to get tho boat
out; and away weut the harbor master
aud M'Kay after them dowu to the
beaeb.
"No wonder ho was so particular, the
rascal! hy. evorv one of those Kaffir
will fetch five hundred dollars in Amer
ica. He's done a very fair dav's work,
and no mistake, Mr. M'Kay."
"Yes, and never paid me for tho hire
of my boats," dolefully rosponded-the
agent; "and I lout the scoundrel my
horse, too."
"Well, it's no use now. But where
our senses were, Mr. M'Kay, to be out
witted like that, X can t think. I shall
hear of this again. If only the ad mint!
would cruise around here, we might
catch em now; but we shan't see him for
months mavbe. It's about the ,lmMwt
move that 1 ever heard of."
By this time the boat was out and
manned, and a hearty pull took them to
the hlti ff head in half an hour, but no,
sign of the slaver was to he seen.
The next day a southern-bound briir
dropped anchor in tho outer bay, and
sent ashore for some fresh meat" The
harbor master went off to her, gave the
captain a letter to deliver to the admiral
if he fell in with him, or to leave it at the
Cape if he did not. Although the letter
reached the admiral within a week, and
ho put off to sea on tho chance of falling
in with some news of the Southern Cross,
no more was ever heard of the Yaukee
whaler.
' ia i i
(Upplng la rtS. r's Footsteps.
One bright winter's morning after a
snow storm, a father took his hat tor
walk to attend to some farm affair re
quiring his attention. As he started, his
little boy of five summers also snatched
his hat, and followed his father with
mock dignity and an assumed business'
like air. When they reached the door.
the gentleman noticed that no track or
pathway had boen made in the snow. and
he hesitated about letting his bov foltow
him. But the soft. hYeer snow looUtd
so tempting, so pearly white, that he ecbt
eluded to allow the child to walk after
him. He took long and rapid strides
through the untrodden snow, when sud
denly remembering his little bov, he
paused, looked back for him, and ex
claimed :
"Well, my son, don't you find it hard
work to walk in this deep snow ?
"Oh ! no," said the bov. "I'm com
ing ; for, father, I step in all your tracks.'
True enough the dear child was plant
ing his tiny feet just where his parent's
had trodden, ihe child s reply startled
the futher.as he reflected that thns would
his child keep pace with him, and follow
in his tracks through life. He was not
a man of prayer, and not a Christian;
and well might he pause and tremble as
he thought of his child, ever striving "to
step in all of his tracks, onward, on
ward through life's mysterious mazes and
myths toward eternity! The little boy's
reply brought that strong, stnbborn-
hcai'tcd man to think. Finally he re
pcnted, and nought aud found peace.
Wo believe now he is making such tracks
through life that some day that son may
be glad to say: "lather, I step in all of
your tracks. British Workman.
IIomp.s or New York Capitalists.
All our great capitalists (except Stewart)
lived and died in plain houses. James
Ijpiiox limit more than forty years ago,
ana bis house now looks antiquated.
Peter Ooelet died in that tall, nngainly
building which has recently been demol
ished. Stephen Whitnev diod in an an
cient house fronting the Battery, being
at the time of his death one of the oldest
residents of that neighborhood. Old
John Jacob Astor died in a two story
nouse witn dormer windows, liis son
William, who was thrice as rich, passed
his lust days in a house of the plainest
diameter. Tho same remark applies to
John Q. Jones and other capitalists who
adhered to the simplicity of the old
regime. Tho present style will answor
for those who are ambitious for display,
but what is gained in this point is prob
ably lost in comfort. In modern palaces
an elcvutor is necessary both for con
venience and health. A gentlonian in
speaking on this subject said: ' These
high stairs aro killing my wifo." Stew
art's palace has an ascent of sixteen feet
to the second story. What a height for
an old lady to climb! Even twelve feet
(which is common) is really too great an
ascent for uny but tho strong and active.
A reaction is now apparent, and a man
of large wealth has recently built a
costly house with nino feet ceilings.
When pooplo dine in thoir basements
and live on tho second story (the first
being used an thoir parlor), thoy cer
tainly have enough climbing to tost both
strength and patience, N. Y. Corr,
Troy Tiinos.
"I stand," said a stump orator, "ou
tho broad platform of the principles of
1770, and palsied be my arm if I dosert
'em." "You stand on nothing of the
kind," interrupted a little shoemaker in
the crowd; "you sbtnd in my boots, thut
you never peid ma for, aud I want the
money. '
i
4
pumping it in on the starboard side, and
out ngaiu ou the port, don't you see?"
"Yes, I see now," sighed the agent.
"Sixty niggers kiduanpod before our
IIORRH OK TO PFiTB.
Ten years ago, ou tho same night that
Chicago was destroyed, it hurricane of
Br swept over several ooitntios of Michi
gan and Wisconsin, completely wiping
out of existence, among others, tho vil
lage of lVshtigo in tho latter State. Hun
dr'His of live were lost, cattle and horses
perished bv thousands, wild animals were
annihilated" for tongues, buildings and
crops were licked up, and altogether the
work of destruction was so vast and ap
palling that the world stood still and
shuddered.
Now wo hear of similar devastation tn
Michigan, this time covering more teiii
torv ami probably destroying more lives
and property, the Heart sickens at mo
thought, aud stands crushed aud trem
bling before tho mighty tiro fiend, whoso
hot breath carries away the fruits of
man's best lalHrt.
Among the newspaper aooouuts of
these dreadful things, we often see such
expressions as "roosted alive," "burned
to death," "lingering death by tire," etc.
Those who have lost dear friends know
what a living pang it sends to tho very
center of tho heart, to think of physical
pain which they had to lear. Persons of
sensitive nerve's and active imagination
can almost drive themselves frantic by
encouraging such thoughts. For such
people tho following ideas are given:
l'ersons uuder excitement and violent
exertion aro scarcely conscious of pain.
Fear of calamity, and frantic struggles
to escape it, render one almost insen
sible. Fright is nature's aim'stht'tio,
When a liou held lr. Livingstone by the
arm, he felt no puin whatever, and
looked calmly and with perfect uncon
cernas far as physical suttering was
concerned upon his captor, and his ex
cited friends. Tho oople who lost their
lives during the great tire were thor
oughly frightened, and were generally
rnuuitig from tho danger or bravely
lighting it. Soldier aro tired to tl
tenth degree of enthusiasm by martial
display, and with tho added excitement
of battle, think nothing of any pain they
be called upon to suffer.
And further, these people were not
burned to death. They wero burned
after death. They died of suffocation
or heat, aud these aro not such nu'thods
os can drtw a tile over every lien e til-
ment, and hash up the spinal cord w ith
a buzz-saw. Suffocation is luck of air,
whereby tho blood not being puritlod by
the lungs, becomes blue and tho person
is soon iu a stupor. This occur in
drowning, would occur in a vacuum, or
in any gas thut excludes air. 1 suppose
though I never tried it, and don l in
tend to that a person could hold his
breath until unconscious, when he could
be "burned to a crisp" without caring
anythingaliout it. A tire not only con
sumes tho air, but gives out a gas w hich
will not supHrt life. Thus tho
thirty persons in the basement of the
Feshtigo church wero suffocated, had
their air taken by the tire above them,
before the heat reached them. In this
case the tire climbed one corner of the
church to the steeple, and then burned
tho building from above downwards.
This was witnessed by tho people who
were saved, a hundred yards distant,
where the thirty might have found refuge
but for their fright.
Unconsciousness from heat is fur from
being "roasted alive." Ouo man was
making great exertions to save himself
'.and bis child. As he rushed along w ith
the child in his arms, tho heat increased.
and all of a sudden he just wilted. His
strenghth vanished instantly from every
muscle, and he fell to the ground "all iu
a lump. His Buffering was over,
and had not been very great, either. The
fire had not touched him, and as for
puin, ho hail nt thought of it. A
"lingering death by tiro'' would not have
concerned him at all. Instead of taking
it, however, he mude a superhuman
effort for the child s sake, crawled a few
feet and was saved, or ho never could
have described his sensations to mo,
Thus in saving his child he saved him
self, and now s.iys fondly thut she saved
him.
Another, while on his knees, covering
his family with blankets iu a lurgo field,
was struck in tho buck by a blast which,
by its force and its heat, prostruted him
instantly. Ho thought thut if ho hud
been facing it he would have Hrished.
Muny were burned, but did not know
it until afterwards.
Thus it nppour that we can suffer al
most as miii-h in imagination as tho vic
tims do in fact. Death is indeed the
king of terrors, but not so much on ac
count of tho pain ho inflicts upon his
victim as the sorrow upon tho friends.
Do not dwell upon the sufferings of your
lost ones. You Buffered moro than they.
Unconsciousness, pnrtiul or complete,
usually precedes death, and tho "lust
agony" is no agony at all, but is only the
mechanical effects of fuiluro of nervo
force and circulation. Thus may you
roliove your poor heart of a littlo of its
anguish, although tho great fact of an ir
reparable loss must remain.
Ono or two points of interest suggest
themselves as I recall those dreadful
days and nights. The magnitudo and
swiftnesi of these fires ore not appreci
ated by those at a distance. Tho horiou
shows a lino of light, and a noise liko
muttering thunder, or tho roar of the
sea, is heard, Tho wind begins to blow,
tho light increases, sparks fly through
the air, tho rour becomes frightful, and
seems to como from every direction and
mi every spuco, and soon tho Humus are
seen iu tho woods. Not on tho ground,
simply, but all among tho troos, up to
their highest tops, and iu tho air above
them. Grout shoots of flame flush along,
or spring suddenly into existence in mid
air. Somehow tho firo leaps the spoco
between tho woods and the first building,
or prehaps pounces down iu the middle
of the village, ond tho wind, which is
now a nurricano, carrios it from house to
houso. Twenty are burning tit onco,
fifty .a hundred. the wholn loom it. ftllu'ft
and before ono can appreciate tho situa
tion the opposite woods, a milo distant,
are in flames, and ho is surrounded by
flro and smoko on every side, while ho is
in uie midst ox a vast amphitheater of
fiery destruction, blinded and half nil (To.
cated, with scarcely tho power to guide
his family towards some place whioh
promises shelter. This is always a body
or stream of water, if such exists. Noxt
a field, or rocks, or anything not oom
bustable, and out of the
flames.
This all occurs so ouioklv. and covnr
so muoh territory, cutting off retreat in
any direction, that escape is simply im
!
possible, Shelter must Ixi found close
at hand, if at all, ' A family living in a
small place surrounded by woods, wore
found iu tho woods opposite whore tho
tire came from, ami in suoli attitude
to show that they wero going toward
thoir houso. llio presumption u that
mey nod from tho tiro along the road
into the opposite woods, sud finding the
lire had overtaken them, turned back to
wards the open field which the never
reached.
Tho shoots of fire, described by per
fectly cool and self-possessed witnesses,
as spreading through tho air like cloud
over the trees, are explained in this way,
possibly incorrectly probably correctly.
Nfui h of tho country burned over was so
dry thut the ground wa burned to tho
depth of 10 to l'J inches. This partictt'
lorlv ocOurrod whore in wet weather tho
surface wa covered with fern growth,
ami in l .y times, like those preceding
tho fire-, became so drained that
the roots of annual plants, and tho
accumulated leaves of tree wero ready
to feed the flumes to an almost unlimited
extent. Now wlioii this vast quantity of
material, over mile ol country (tho tiro
covered a space along tho tdioro of (Irecti
Hay tit) miles long and from u to K wide)
wu burni'd with great rapidity, the
amount of go produced was groat
that there was not air enough to burn it.
This effect was favored by tho mighty
ruitlilii; wind, carrying great volumes
of ga and smoke from plaeos already
burned, and preventing tho air in ad
vance from coming Wk to meet the tire.
These great volume of gas, although
notion-nod, wero nevertheless, heated
intensely, and lioing driven upward and
onward' by tho wind burst into llamo
w herever thoy reached tho air. These
effects could of otirso lissl but a few
seconds, after which, as air rushed iu
from tho sides of tho firo path, tho tiro
would bo confined to ordumtiy combus
tibles. Indident crowd upon my memory,
but my letter is already too long. These
are kivoii with stl humble hox thut the
ideas advanced may convey a littlo Com
fort to sonic poor mourner.
I'. owing and rulterUUic.
Our first plowing, some fifty years ago,
was done with a wossleti mold board.
Then cuiuo in tho wrought irou mold
Isiurd, hnmmered out by the blacksmith.
About forty yeurssgotho introduction of
tho cast iinii mold Uiurd. with replace
able points, caused no little excitement
among farmers, ns these could 1st pro
duced so much more cheaply than
wrought iron, and being harder, thoy
wore longer. But on our atony farm the
gaiii was partly oonuterlwluueed by tho
breaking of tho "points," ami often of
tho "land slide," and evon the mold
board Itself. A few years later tho steel
mold'lMiard and points csmo into use,
and subsequently the chilled irou plow.
But during all thcao fifty your of im
provement, and from tune immemorial
before that, the chief end aimed at hua
been tho Hrfcctiug of tho old iustrumont
iu form, in material, in tho frame, in
coulters, guiding wheels, etc. The prin
ciple has Ikwu tho same, viz., tho cutting
off of a furrow slice and inveruug it moro
or le perfectly.
Hut there ha all tho while Wn the
feeling that Jothro Toll wa right in
claiming thut thorough pulverising tho
soil was tlm grvat requisite of cultiva
tion. And to secure this wo have had
suiH-ession of iuiploiiienU dovisvd, as
enrtivators, rotary diggers, rotary har
row, etc. Most of thorn havo boon val
uable so far a they have helped toward
dividing tho soil, so a to provide a finer
seed bod. But wo aro inclined to be
hovo that an inventor ha now made
licit modifications and additions to the
common plow as to amount to a radical
and most vulusldo change iu its mode of
operation and in tho desirable result
i rod need. Hero is a general idea of it:
'irst, a surfueo plow, which is readily
and quickly adjusted to cut off two,
thruo or four inches iu depth of tho soil,
und turn it well over into the Imllom of
tho previous furrow. Following this,
Upon tho sumo liearer or frame, is an
other plow, sdjilstuhlo to take up a sub
furrow of any desired depth, Hut this
second or sub-slice i not merely
turned over in a mass upon tho
top of the first one, with only
such breaking as tho lifting and turning
ovor will secure, Otite different. Upon
the friimo is an ois'u woik wrought iron
wheel or cylinder, say forty inches iu
diameter, which follow upon and
smooths down iu part the turned slice of
land, w ith its gruss, stubble, weeds, etc.
The second furrow is thrown into this
revolving wheel, and carried round nnd
round on its inside, among its teeth, and
against its open work bais on tho rim
and outer side, and is so broken and un
piilverized thut it drop out upon the
buried sod or surface furrow. Tho re
sult is that tho sod i pulverized quite a
much as it could bo dotio w ith roller and
furrow, aud without uny trampling or
packing by teams; it is loft light und lino
and in excellent condition for receiving
seed. Thero is also provision for at
taching both seed drill and fertilizer dis
tributor. Iu brief, at ono operation tho
soil is plowed, finely divided, sod, stub-
Pie, etc., buried aud sued sow n, There
aro several simple, ingenious devices for
rinsing and lowering tho plows and
wheels, for various depths, for turning
ut tho side of tho fi-.dd, for self-trans-portution,
etc., thut would neod engrav
ings and lengthy description to explain
them fully.
A TiUKI''h lMOFNt'ITY. TllO Hindoo
thief's manner of scaling walls is very
ingenious. It is by menus of a huge
lizard, which ho carries with him in his
noctiirnul rambles, Tho process is as
follows: Tho lizard, which is perhaps a
yard in length, with great claws and
flattened foot, and suction-powors liko
those of a fly, is mudo fast to the
robber by means of a stout cord tied to
its tail. When tho robber is pursued,
and comes in his liud.y flight to a wall,
lie quickly throws his lizard ovor it hold
ing fast to tho other ond of tho cord. By
moans of its suction powers tho lizard
fastens itself to the wall on the opposite
side, nnd tho thief draws himself to tho
top and jumps lightly down. By chok
ing the lizard it is made to rolouso its
hold,
"I saw a big boy and a little follow
quarreling over simo marbles to-day,"
said John. "Did you?" asked his futher.
"I hope yon interfered to stop tho quar
reling." "Yos," siid John, "I took the
littlo fellow's part."
la Outlaw's Htfo.
Thewlieof the noted train robber,
Joaso James, wa formorly an Ouiuhu
girl. During tho day a reporter of tho
ltoptibltean mot with veil getil lemon
who wore well acquainted wlili tho 111
ston family, and who remember Annie,
who married Jesso James. I'loin these
gentlemen several quite Interesting tacts
wero obtained concerning tho lUUlon.
Thoy citmo to Oumli imiuiidiutely
after or near tho clnso of the war,
as tho sympathizers with tho lost
eauso mudo it so tiiipeiit (or Ihoin bo
ciiuso Mr. Kalslon w a Union man ami
hud served in tho Union army. They
resided iu a small brick lioixc standing
ut that limo lieu" the corner of Sixteenth
aud Davenport stiimta. Mr, Kalslon en
gaged III the freighting btlsiiics to the
west, and wa assisted in hi busiiios by
his sou John. Annie was then a mora
chihl, aud thorn aro now in thl city sev
eral young gentlemen and Iodic who
can remember hor a tho playmate of
thoir childhood day. After residing
here several year Mr. ltulstoti's busi
iios dwindled away ami ho returned
with hi family to Independence, Mo.,
tho bitter feelings originating from tho
war having almost nitiroly ubidiH.
aud they arc living thero yet.
lit lMii Annie liulnton, having grown
lip to bo a bright sud handsome- vuiltiif
lady, camo back to Omaha on a visit, and
was tho guest of her cousin, who was the
wife of a welt known business mini here.
During her stay in Omaha olio stl. luted
numerous parlies and also l'rofomuir
1 nival dancing school. Mlio iituiea
favorite among thoao who mudo her sc.
quuintuiico, a lm had prepossessing
manner and li ning ways, Anion,; her
voting gentleman friwuds was one who
Ml deeply in love with her, and she re
ceived hi devolcl attentions until ho
promised marriage to her, mid then slut
coldly refused hint. This was entirely
unetpci'tci mi niN part, ami, to iimi a
very forcible oxprosniou, "it broke luui
all up." Ilo took to drink, and soon be
came a moral sud nearly s physical
wreck, in iiownfall und ruin wero due
to Annie lUUtou' refusal. Up to this
time ho bad been a model young man,
had oxiidtetit prospect, anil w highly
respected by all who know him, but
Riiica that event ho became entirely
changed, and hi coiirso from that tuna
wa downward. Ho i tho sou of a well
known Professional gentleman residing
in Omaha. Ho i now a wmlirer iu the
new town of tho rough Wot, ami i
probably leading a rockiest lite of dissi
pation. Annie lUNtoii returned to Independ
ence, ami ouo night, about mouth after
wards, sho ran away troiu home and
married tho noted Jvsaie James, who it
seems, had met tho girl by chance, and
Oourtml her clandestinely until he won
hor affections. Sho was full of roi-ance.
and no doubt became infatuated with tho
bold ili'Hpeiado, with whoso rxmtlliK
career she hud Ixvouw vorv well ao-
tintUtod,
tier mrrign with tho bandit w a
complete surprise and a terrible Idow to
her resiHs-tihl parents, who could Dot lie
lievo the announcement unlit it wa
proven to them by Indisputable evidence
and then they diMiwnnd their truant
daughter. Her cousin in this city learned
tho particular of tho affair from John
Kalslon, who rnaidn iu St. IauiIs, and
also from tb girl's fsthnr.
S'siq after the marriage tho Youngtr
brother made their famous and futut
raid on the Norlhftald tutuk of Minne
sota, and it wo generally suspected that '
tho two Jume brother wero lucmlwr
of tho guug, and that in making thoir es
cape thoy followed tint Missouri river
down to tho vicinity of Kansas City. It
wus thought that JesM Jamea would
como to Omaha, and hero nnvl hi wifo.
A detective was detailed to keep a tharp
look-out for her, but she never cams here
after her marriage. Such i a chapter
from tho history of Annie Balston, the
outlaw's wifo. Omaha Uepublican.
Prohibition m Vermont. '
A St. Albans gentleman whom, I ques
tioned about tho workings of the liquor
law, told mo just a I was told in all
other parts of the State, that there wa
no trouble in prismring whisky. He said:
"I am in a very funny secret", which i
shared. by most of our citizens who like
a littlo stimulant occasionally. Come
with mo."
Ho took mo to a cross street, and wn
entered a room which appeared to lie a
cigar store, with coufecti mery, oto. We
took seats at tho rear', and my friend told
mo to keep my eye jpon.
Within twenty minute I saw ten or
twelve gentlemen como in, some iu pairs.
some singly, some In littlo parties, go to
littlo pa
a drink,
tho water cooler, tuko
buy cigars
ami go out
My friend finally asknd mo if I hod
seen suy liquor sold, and I said "No."
"Nevertheless," said ho, "every gen
tleman who camo in here toak a good
square drink of whisky and paid for it
too."
"Well," said I, "tho drink must havo
been in the oooler or tho cigars. I know
it was not in tho cigars, for most of
thorn worn lighted before tho purchaser
left. It must bo in the oooler.
"Well, go and draw some," said ho.
I wont to the cooler, hold the glass un
der tho nozzle, und pressed down tho
button. I was rewarded fur my exertion
by a flow of clour cold water thut soon
filled tho tumbler. I was puzzled, and
ipy friend and tho proprietor grimily en
joyed it.
My friend took tho empty glass and
drow from tho sumo faucet half a glass
of whisky. If I wus puzzled before I
wus now thunderstruck, and after laugh
ing at ma a while tho trick was explained.
It was simply: l'ross down tho button
and water runs; tiroes up with tho thumb
from below, whiio you nppour to press
down with the forefinger, and you got
whisky; upon tho cooler and you find it
full of ieo water. Tho whisky comes
from a cask in a hidden closet up stairs,
und flows through a small pipe whioh
descends in tho partition, aud pusses
from tho wall iuto tho bottom of tho
cooler, and connects with the faucet.
llubonstoin was recently asked for his
autograph by a distinguished lady ama
teur pianisto, when ho took a scrap of
paper, and rapidly scratching the five
linos of the "staff" across it, scribbled off
the first six bar of hi beautiful dreamy
"Bomunoo in E Flat," and. putting his
name below it, presented the character
istic souvenir with the graoious air of an
amiublo sovereign of the art.
..., ,1,.; i i