1882-07-06; Saline Observer

              TW^?"
ALINE
■*■*»-
NISSLY & EMMERT, Publishers.
BUSINESS DIRECTORY.
PROFESSIONAL.
Q "W. CHASTDLEB, EL P.,
Physician and Surgeon.
Ail callspromptly attended to.  Office at residence, first door north of H. E. Cnurcti.
Q  C. JENKINS,
Surgical and Mechanical
DENTIST.
Office, 19 South Main Street, opposite First
National Bant,
.A-im. •A.-rToo*--',   -  IMTioli.
T) p. sa:ci^LcE2iAN,
*fc*~a
Physician and SriDn^geon,
Office and residence opposite M, El Churoii,-
Adrian street, Saline, Mich.
E
JONES & SON,
Attorneys.
All kinds of legal papers neatly and correctly
drawn. Collections made and promptly remitted.  Office on 51c Kay street, Saline, Mich.
Pkane: E. Jo-res.
E. Jokes.
TT7*Er.B. (HLDAKT,
Attorney at Law,
And J ustice of the Peace.   Office overMchols
Bra's, store, Chicago street, Saline, Michigan.
w
E. "HUSEPHRET,
flea! Estate Agent.
Government Lands located. 20,000 acres of
choice wheat lands for sale. Correspondence
solicited.  Ellsbuiy, Barnes Co., D. T.
f-=V-
^SCEMjANEOTTS.
>«,
-k
Mrs, W. F. LARZELERE,
The Old and Reliable
DRESSMAKER and CUTTER.
Again offers her services to the ladies of
this vicinity.
PRICES £oS.A.Sa:2Sr.A.3I_i-E5
and Sati3faeti on Guaranteed.    Shop at
residence on Henry street, west.
^f^'-'5-   jvilSS "A, SWIFT
"Wouldinform the poopl-i «>'
that she i3 now p rep.tre l;
5atin,> and vicinity
s d > all kinds of
DtiESS   MAKING,
Cuttingr und Fitting'.    AH-*rorfc gu'.iranteed
to give satisfaction.   K. ">:n on Main St.,
Inreydeneeof M>«. J?h i i Fowler.
has fiis.iu-.l a
1 *
STY
Store
Over Nichols Bro's <lru*r store.
"Where she will hs la attend iise herself, on
Tuesday of each weeh.
MRS. N3. L. FOR8ES
Invite*, the ladies of Saline and vicinity to
call and examine her elegant new stock of
Sp
ing&S
1U,
riibins
ens
Booms over Davenport & Son's storsj
CEO. R. SHERMAN,
The old and reliahle
Maker,
.--Wagon and Carriage
Job work and repairing promptly done at rea3-
' onable rates.   Shop on Chicago St., west.
MYRON WEBB,
JUSTICE  OF THE  PEACE,
And Insurance Agent.
COyVBXAKCTIJiG ATTEKDED TO PBOaiHELY.
Special Attention (jfiven to Collections.
Office 2d door west of the postoffiee.
REYN'OL
E. A.
Notary Public, Real  Estate,
UfS0B.--.KCa ASD COIJiBCriOJ- AQESCr.
Office over N. 0. Putnam & Go's, store, Milan,
Mich.   All business entrusted to me will
receive prompt attention.
Patroi-ase     "Tli©    Soys !
'    HAUSER &
Proprietors of
ITHE MEW LIVERY STABLE,
 At the	
=OED AKSPuIOAN" HOTTSS BASH".
B. B1ENEMANN.
Dealer in the celebrated
PS/leriden Co.'s Silver Ware !
And "Watches, Clocks & Jewelry.
Headquarters at Ee.3iden«e, oa Henry,St., 2nd
door east of Baptist church.
THOMAS ECCLES,
CCI10 DPiOKG'^r
J300T AND SHOE MAKER,
' Is now located in the Burg building, on
cChicago St., where he will be glad to see all
'.his old customers and many new one3.
atepairing' Neatly and Promptly Done.
W, HELLER & SON.
Hu?s8 Shoeing & BtacksfliitMn
If vourh *>r*5e forges, interfere* or is irregular
-y uZ     't. /riv** us a call and y-e wilt regu-
m ms1gt   -to so he will not anoy you.
Special
To horses having
SHOP ON ANN
Attention Given
we«ifc and diseased feet.
•vBBOE STBEET.
GEOfSQE   EH^!Sv
Merchant Tailor and  Cutter.
I have a full line of samples of goods" c^SeT
by a leading eastern jobbing house, m. -
■will furnish my customers at
•W£3:p2Li-E3S^.I_,-E3 IPE&TOEJ-
Ibuy my "trimmings, of jobbers and give my
euatomer3 the benefit. Don't buy anything in
the clothing line untiiyoTi have examined my
samples and got my prices. I will save you
money. All wort-;.warranted. Shop over Davenports & Son's store.
A. B. Bra-cocr- w. e. isbeix.
BLITON & iSBELL,
PBOPBIETOBB OF THE
f, Sale and Feed Stables,
.STAGE AND DBAY LINES,
Office,   South Front Street,  West Broadway,
IO"WEE CITY, DAKOTA.
Livery,
A GBEAT SHAME.
M,r. and Mrs. Blue-back Swallow
Back from their Florida journey came
To their summer home in that shady hollow,
Other people a chimney name.
Theirs was not a modern villa,
Inches square, with a fluted top,
And arching cover, with scroll and pillar,
Squeezing and blinding their homeward
flop.
A great old-fashioned chimney's corner
Many a year had held their nest:
Loved in spite of the oriole scorner
Who jeered asid sneeredfrom his hammock
rest.
Here they came when the sun was rising,
"Veered, and hovered, and do wnward dropped ;
ButMadam suddenly screamed, "Surprising!
-Look, my dear, how our door is stopped!"
"Sure enough!'' chirped Mr. Swallow;
"What! a stone on our very door!
Never again with twittering hollo
Shall we dart to our nest once more.
"Stone, and bricks, and wiry netting
Where the wind went free as air!
Free as we were! Well! no use fretting:
W.e are a houseless, homeless pair."
'I know who 'twas!"  said the  bright-eyed
woman.
"Creatures that live in the house below:
Beings who call their own serve's ' human'!
Very inhuman to treat us so!
'These are they who scorch and smoke us.
Making fires on our chimney floor,
And, if we fall to the earth-stone, poke us,
Bang Us, and throw us out of door.
•'Now, I suppose because we twitter
And. thunder wings in the early dawn,
As up and down to our nests we flitter.
Their nets are over our house-door dr awn
'Selfish things! may black flies eat 'em,
All mosquitoes bite 'em, too:
Night moJhs, horu-bugs, May-bugs beat '£m,
Till every visage is black and blue!
"Dear! — f hate these horrid people!
Let us fly to a safer home.
What do you say to the old church steeple?
'Or to the school-house' shining dome?"
Never a chirp Sir Blue-back uttered,
■   Only looked at his wife asfeance:
Somsthing cress in his beak he muttered.
Then up and off he led her a dance.
Where they went is past my telling.
Sorry I am I must relate
That I shut up their life-long dwelling!
But the  snow and rain came down
straight.
—Wide Awake.
to
THEODOKA.
GIFT OF GOD.
1 do wish/ said Mrs. Prudence Hall,
holding her darning-needle in mid-air
for a moment over the coarse blue sock
she was mending, 1 do wish you could
see your way clear to marrying Seth
rlallett. He wants yea the wowt
kind, and he'd be such a good provid-
er.'
'But I don't like him well enough,
Prudy; and I want something besides
meat and drink, and two calico dresses
a year.'
Mrs. Prudence Hall had sprained her
ankle, and was forced, sorely against
her will, to sit day after day in an upper chamber, with a terrible consciousness that everything about the farm
was relapsing into chaos for want of
oversight. Her pretty, sister Dora had
come to stay with her; but she was 'only a child, you know.'
'Thers are two kinds of love in this
world,' said Mrs. Hall, after a pause,
in which she had been taking counsel
with herself whether Dora was old
enough to be talked to on such matters
at all, and it flashed upon her that
'the child,' was nearly twentyyears old.
•Perhaps you like Seth well enough to
marry him, only you don't know it.'
'Tell me about the two kinds of love,'
said Dora innocently. 'I thought love
was love the world ever.'
'I have never known but one kind, I
think. Dora. "When I- married David
Hall, he was the most well-to-do young
man in these parts, and we never had
a quarrel. He was a good, practical
sort of a man, and he never asked me
to do anything unreasonable/
•What if he had?' asked Dora.
'Well, I guess I should have argued
him out of it. But there is a kind of
love that will draw women through
fire and.water. It makes them throw
themselves away on poor, shiftless men
that will' never provide for them* nor
their children, and they know it as well
as anybody else does. It is the greatest
wonder to me why such a useless feeling should ever have been created.'
Dora had bent low over her work to
hide her roughish smile at her sister's
discourse; but at this point she fixed
her deep gray eyes on Prudence, not
smiling, but simply earnest.
'Such love brings happiness, sometimes,' said Dora.
'JSText to never!' said Prudence, with
great decision. 'We ain't made to be
too happy, and anything that's too good
always leaves a bad taste in the mouth.
Comfort is a bird in the hand, and you
don't gain anything by letting it fly on
the chance of happiness.'
'Did you know any one about here,
Prudence, that threw herself away for
love ? It seems to me they wont look at
a man unless he has a house and farm
ready for them.'
'That's where they're right,' said
Prudence. 'You are rather given to
high-flying notions, and it's time you
found out that bread don't grow already buttered. "Yes, I did know one
girl who was pretty and smart, and had
no end of chances to get married, (I
think my David courted her a spell, but
he never would own it,) and she would
have that shiftless critter, Joe Eaymond,
who never could make one hand wash
the other. Even when she was a-dyin'
she pretended that she had been happy,
and wouldn't have done no other way
if she had it to do over again.'
'Was she Joe's mother?' asked Dora,
quickly,
'Yes, to be sure ; and when she died
we took Mm to bring up and work on
the farm. He's more than paid his way,
but; he's a rolling stone like his father,
and won't never come to anything, I
forgot to tell you—lie's going away tomorrow.
'Going to-morrow?' cried Dora with
a <**reat start. 'Ithought his time wasn't
ou^ for a month.'
'Wfc^-» ifc air*'fc "gktty oat tiJ1 -ie's
•^wenty-C-oe, but he was in such a hurry
to be off t^atlgavehim the last month.'
"^hen % s^ence fell upon both.
These two women had the same father and mother, though a score of years
lay between them. Prudence had been
born in the early married life of her
parents, when  they were  struggling
SALINE, WASHTENAW COUNTY, MICHIGAN, THURSDAY, JULY 6, 1882.
VOL. II. NO. 34.
this
very
Biisbury, Hope and Lybeck leave  with a stony Kew England farm, and
i3da^..-&-L-i-lH^Ki8fl^pf al*     there was work for even baby hands-
Stages to
every Tuesday.   	
ways furnished at reasonable rates
t*t%
^citaibeb &scmax£%
Proprietors of the Union Block
MEAT  MAEKET.
— All kinds of —
MEAT, POULTRY, FISH ETC
At Lowest Li vingPrlces. NoA/Pnionlilock,, j t*
••aline, Michigan, iCi'
The lines of duty and patience were
deep-graven in her rugged face, which
yet beamed with a kindly common
sense. But Dora had come to her
mother late in life, as an old tree sometimes blossoms into loveliness after
every one has forgotten it. Her little
feet had walked in easy paths, and
Prudence yearned oyer her like a moth-
She sat now by the open fire, bending
her graceful head over some delicate
work that Prudence never would have
found time for; her red dress and the
flickering firelight made her a picture
too lovely for that dull room.
•Prudence,' she said suddenly, 'as this
is Joe's last night, I think I'll go down
and say good-bye to him.'
-You might call him up here.'
'No; I think I will go myself.'
-I believe I haven't ever told you,
Dora, how much you pleased me by giving up that childish way of going on
with him   that you used to have.   It
did very well for you to be fond of. each
other when you were little, but of course
it is out of the question now.'
It might have been thered dress and
the firelight that brought such a vivid
flush to Dora's check as she listened and
turned away. She ran lightly down
stairs and opened the door of the great
farm kitchen.
A young man sat by the dull fire,
looking into it as one does into the eyes
of an enemy before the fight—an overgrown farmer boy, in home-made
clothes, with nothing, about him to fall
in love with, least of all for the brilliant little figure that stood waiting for
him to look up. Hs was too intent on
his own thoughts to notice her, till she
went swiftly across the room, and, taking his head between her soft hands,
turned his face up to hers. 'Joe, bad
boy, were you going away without letting me know?'
The hard lines of his face softened
and brightened under her gaze, till one
would not have known him for the
same man. ' I. thought I should not see
you to-night,' he said.
'You know better; you know I would
have crept through the keyhole for one
last little minute with you.'
'How long will you wait for me,
Dora?'
'Till you comeback.'
-If it were seven years, think how
long it would be.'
-If you loved me as you make me believe,' said D'.-ra,. 'you would not go
away at all, but work here until you
could build a little house, and then we
could rough it together."
"No, little Dora, that is not my kind
of love; my mother tried that, and she
live'd a slave's life."
•Dor-i, Dora !' called Prudence from
up stairs; 'what on earth are you doing
down there?'
«I must go now; I must, truly,' said
Dora, as she felt herself locked in arms
th it would not give way. 'If I live
without-you for seven years I shall be
a homely old m-dd, and you jviil not
thank me for waiting for you:'
He put her away then and looked at
her curiously, as if he had never
thought of her pretdness before. 'Do
you know what your name mea s?' he
asked earnestly. -I saw it in a paper
thgt Theodora means 'G-ift of God,' and
you have been just that to. me. If I
had never seen you, I should never
have had a notion about a days work
or a night's sleep. I will write whenever I have any luck, and come home
on New Year's eve when I do ome,
and if you wear this red dress I shall
kn w you have waited for me.'
'I think I s all live to wear it when
you come home, if it is seven times
seven years, Joe, for women are so
very hard to .kill,' said Dora, slowly
disappearing from the kitchen.
'Wh t h.^ve you been doing all
time ?' said Prudence,, severely.   *
'I was only giving Joe some
good advice?
Well, I hope he'll p ofit by it.'
'So   o I said Dora heartily.'
'Tis as easy to say  seven years  as
one, and we read of Jacobs seven years,
service for Eachel," which seemed as
but one day for the love"-that he bore
her.   Eachels feelings' are not thought
worthy to be mentioned in holy writ
but if her love was like Dora's,  every
day seemed like  seven   years.   And
here, in a nutshell, lie's the difference
between a man's love and a woman's.
Jacob had the sheep to mind, and he
did mind them uncommonly well.   Joe
went to seek his for r.ae in new scenes,
and only thought of Dora when he had
nothing-else to do.
Till hei lover went away, Dora hs.d
never cared to ask herself whether she
were a child or a woman. Sunshine
had been plenty with her, and she had
eagerly sugared and gilded the plain
things that farm life afforded "-her.
Before the first year came to an end,
she felt that she should soon arrive at
a patriarchal age if she did not do
something to kill the time which died
so hard on her hands.
'Teach school! I guess not,' said
her father, when she broached the subject to him. 'You ain't starvin' yet,
and if you want some new furbelows,
just say so, and not come at it slantin'
ways like that.'
'I don't want anything, father; but
there is so little to do at home.'
'Nonsense! In my time gals was always full of business. Can't you make
sheets and pillow-eases, and get ready
to be married? Who knows but some-
body'llask ye one of these days? Waal,
waal, folks can't always have their'd
rathers in this world. I ain't willin'
and that's the end on't.'
But this was not the end on't, and
Dora easily obtained a school. She developed a governing talent which
charmed the committeemen, and the
congenial labor in the company of little
children took her out of herself, and
infused new life into her hope "deferred.
Every week she walked to the post
office, three miles away, to ask for a
letter, going in with a bright flush on
either cheek, and coming out pale and
dull-eyed after the stab of disappointment. I wonder that people in the
country are so anxious to be postmasters; if they only knew it they are actors in more tragedies than any member of a theatrical stock company.
Much sealed happiness passes through
their hands; but they have to refuse
many a -Mariana in the boated Grange'
—weary women who reach a hand out
of their dull lives for a letter and draw
it back empty.
It was far into the second year before Joe's first letter came. It was
surely a fanciful and foolish thing for a
schoolmistress to do, but Dora carried
it to her own little room and put on
thered dress, before she read Joe's letter.
Joe was working in the mines of
Colorado. His luck had not yet come,
in nuggets at least, but hard work and
sober living were slowly giving him
the advantage over the other miners.
He was never so well, and he loved her
better than all the world.
Dora lived on. this letter for maiiy
weeks, and she set 'Colorado'  for a
copy so often to her scholars that they
will write that word better than any
J other to their dying day.
Letters came oftener as years drew
on; sometime3 Joe was up in the world,
sometimes down; once his carefully
hoarded gold was stolen from him and
he had to begin all over again; but this
was nothing to a long illness, in "which
a friend wrote to Dora as soon as Joe
was out of danger. Then Dora envied
the doves their wings.
New Year's day was the hardest of
all to bear. She could not help a strong
pressure of excitement when she put
on the red dress, which grew more and
more old fashioned, and watched the
sun go down on the road which Joe
must travel when he should come
home. The next morning she fitted
her shoulders sadly o the burden of
another year.
One young farmer after another
found his way to the old farm house
on Sunday evenings, and Dora pushed
them down an inclined plane of discouragement so gently that they scarcely knew whether they had meant to
court her or not. It was not the least
of her trials to meet the treaties of her
sister and the rough arguments of her
father, when one or two more persistent suitors would take nothing less
than 'no' for their answer. Dora could
give no reason for repeated refusals to
marry, only she loved no one well
enough—a reason which should be all
sufficient if parents remained immortally young; but it loses weight after
sixty.
As the seventh year drew to a close,
Dora's heart beat light within her. Joe
had mentioned seven years, as if he
meant to come home then at any rate.
She wore out the first day of the 'Glad
New Year' with busy cares, till late in
the afternoon, when an old man, spent
with much walking, stopped to rest
himself in the farm house kitchen.
Prudence bestirred herself to give him
a hearty luncheon, and when he was
warmed and fed he began to talk of his
travels. He had been seeking his fortune all over the Wesr, and never finding it, had, come back to die at home.
He mentioned Colorado and Denver,
and when Dora found herself alone
with him for a moment, she said:
'Did you ever see Joseph Eaymond in
Denver ?'
'JoeEaymond? Oh yes! knew him
well; lived with him nigh on to a
month. His wife is a real good cook;
couldn't be beat in them parts.'
'Yousay he was married?'
'To be sure; a right smart feller, and
mighty fond of his wife. Women are
scarce out there.'
Prudence came in, and the old man
went his way, all unconscious of the
great stone he had cast into the still
waves of Dora's heart.
'What's the matter?' said Prudence;
•you're as white as a sheet.'
Dora's only answer was to start out
of the house, and run, as for her life,
down the frozen orchard path, by
which she could gain upon and overtake
this terrible old man.
/ She stood before the old man at the
turning, bareheaded and breathless.
•Ho*v did the Joe Eaymond look, that
you lived with?' gasped Dora.
'I never said 'Joe Eaymond," said the
old man peevishly; 'I said Jim, Joe,
who—' but Dora was off again before
he could finish the sentence.
She ran through the orchard, giving
thanks with all her heart that she had
not suffered herself to be persuaded of
Joe's faithlessness on one hearing. Her
feeling of grateful awe, as if she had
escaped from sudden death, kept her
from mourning much over the passing
away of the seventh anniversary of
Joe's departure, with no sign of his return.
His letters had wholly ceased, and
there was nothing left for Dora, but to
possess her soul in patience. When
another New Year dawned upon her,
she put on the old red dress more from
habit than from any gleam of hope in
her heart, and did not care to look in
the glass. In the twilight she walked
slowly down the orchard path, and
leaned en the gate that opened into the
road.
Suddenly a man sprang out from behind the wall.
'Theodora, my -gift of God!' * he said;
and Dora, though she recognized no
mark of the lover who had left her
eight years before, felt that no other
knew that pass-word, and suffered herself to rest silently in his arms, in the
ineffable content that comes after long
waiting.
When Joe and Dora -went into the
house, and she looked at him by candlelight, her heart almost misgave her;
his luxuriant beard, and the manly assurance of his manners, were not all
like her Joe of beloved memory, and a
terrible barrier seemed to rise up between them, while Prudence remained
in the room,with her company manners,
which sat more awkwardly upon her
than her Sunday gown.
When Dora tiptoed softly by her sister's door, at a very late hour that
night, Prudence was lying awake for
her.
'Don't tell me,' she said, 'that you've
been waiting for that Joe Eaymond all,
this time!'
•I won't tell you, if you don't want
to hear it;' said Dora.
•Do you know whether he came home
any better off than when he went
away?'
•I really haven't thought to ask him,'
said Dora, carelessly. Prudence groaned and turned her face to the wall.
Joe waited only till the next day to
tell Mrs. Hall the story of his success,
which looked very moderate in. his
traveled eyes, but it seemed a noble
fortune to her homely ideas.
'I never thought before,' said Dora's
father at the wedding, 'that a woman
could keep a secret, and I guess it ain't
more common than snow in dog days.'
'How long would you have waited
for me?'   whispered Joe in Dora's ear.
•Forever!' said Dora, solemnly.
And' Mrs. Piudence  Hall, as she
overheard the word, thanked her stars
that Dora's foolish notions had  not
wrecked her at last on a poverty-stricken marriage.—-Lippencott.
F members of Congress will get
drunk, let it be no more at the public
expense, nor under, color of a great
festiral or funeral. Let the Prince
of Siam or the Shah of Persia come,
if they will, but why should Congressmen get tipsy, squander the-public
money and disgrace the country for
that?
An Adventure with an Octopus.
The octopus is, without doubt, the
most disagreeable creature to be met
with in the ecean.   They are found in
nearly all waters, from the coast of
Maine in and on the borders of the
gulf-steam, to the cold waters of the
North Pacific Ocean.   Imagine a bag
of flesh, over which waves of color are
constantly sweeping and from which
eight arms radiate like the legs of a
gigantic spider, their undersides lined
with shSrp suckers, and between them,
where they join the body, two parrotlike bills.   On each side of the lower
part of the bag put two fierce green or
yellow eyes, give the whole mass a
tremulous motion, and you have a general idea of the appearance of the octopus, a second cousin of the giant
squid.   In size, they range from a foot
across, upward.   The largest known
was seen by Mr. W. H. Dall, at Sitka,
and when  spread  out it measured
twenty-eight feet from the tip of one
tentacle, or arm, to that of the opposite.
Specimens measuring twelve or fourteen feet across are very common in
the Pacific, and are kept for sale in the
San Francisco markets, and considered
great dainties by the Italians and Chinese.   When of this size, they are extremely dangerous,  and have   been
known to throw their snake-like arms
about divers  and bathers and drag
them out into deeper water.
In 1877, an Indian woman living at
Victoria, Vancouver's Island, when in
bathing, was seized by a monster octopus and dragged slowly into deep
water and drowned. She was missed
some time after, and boats were put
out in search, and the hapless victim
was finally seen in about twenty feet
of water, still held in the arms of the
terrible creature. The suckers on the
arms are so many air-pumps, so that
when they are pressed upon the body,
a piston-like arrangement exhausts the
air and the suction presses (in many
kinds) a sharp, 'saw-edged,' bony plate,
or ring, into the flesh, making hundred^ of terrible wounds.
In the Bahama Islands, these ani-
*~*:alf are very common and often of
great size, and their capture affords
sport to the winter visitors at these
isles of summer. The largest octopus
ever caught here was found upon the
beach at Nassau, according to Professor B. G. Wilder, by Mr. J. S. George.
Each arm measured five feet long, and
the entire monster weighed nearly 800
pounds. Several years ago, a party
from New York spent the winter at
Nassau, and the boys, for there were
four or five, had many a lively encounter with the octopus. They had
a fine cedar boat fitted for their benefit; her bow and stern were decked
over and formed air tight compartments, while a row of* air-tight cans
extended around under the seats, so
that their craft would float when full
of water, a fact tested on many an occasion. She was fitted with a leg-o'-
mutton sail, a number of spears, or
grains, as they are called—a small
U-shaped spear attached to the end
of a long, slender pole—while in a
locker was an assortment, of hooks
and lines not forgetting an immense
hook, chain and rope, for the benefit
of the sharks. Thus fitted out they
made daily trips put upon the great
coral reef that surrounds these islands. In many places the water was
very shoal—being just deep enough
to float the boat—while in and out
among the great fields of growing
coral, blue channels .twist and wind,
looking from above like blue rivers
on a field of brown. One bright morning our boys may have been seen .hurrying down to their boat before sunrise. Tom, Harry and Will carried
the oars, sail and mast, while their
younger brothers followed with the
grains and a huge hamper of lunch.
They were bound for a portion of
the reef called Yellow Tail Shoal,
that they never before had visited,and,
as it was five miles away, an all-day
trip was laid out. It was a glorious
morning—what the old fisherman
called a "dead calm," a state of weather common on this coast, not a breath
of wind being felt sometimes for days
together,and the water assuming the
appearance of a vast sheet of glass
only broken by the occasional fin of
a shark.or the splash.of the pelicans as
they hurl themselves into tae water after small fry.
Out into this glassy ocean the boys
shoved their boat. The mast was
not "stepped," and, taking oars and
grains, they poled along over the coral,
headed out to sea. At every movement of the boat, some new wonder
appeared that would have astonished and delighted boys at the north.
Everywhere great bunches of branch-
coral extended its branches upward.
Now great mounds or heads of brain-
coral appeared ten or twelve feet
across, and among them beautiful yellow, lilac and brown fans and plumes
waved in the tide.
Curious animals, called anemones,
unfolded their mouth-like flowers," and
the whole scene was that of a vast
submarine garden of the most gorgeous description. Strange fishes darted aside at their approach—gray snappers, great red groupoes, sting rays
that flew along like a bird, waving
their side-fins up and down, and lashing a long slender tail after them;
and here and there a black object
would dart away, creating "a great
cloud of mud, showing that a turtle
had been caught napping.
Through such scenes as these the
boys poled the boat for two miles or
more, occasionally taking up the oars
to pull over. a deep spot. Finally
they came to a portion of the reef too
shallow for the boat with such a load,
and forthwith, with pantaloons rolled
up and grains in hand, our party
jumped overboard, and continued the
march driving the boat after them.
Sometimes they had to drag her almost out of water, but finally the head
of "Yellow Tail" Eeef was reached,
and they were upon unexplor e d
ground. The. reef was about three
feet under water, and covered with
small heads of the coral known as
meandrina, interspersed with the fans
and plumes before mentioned. To the
left the sea broke, piling the coral up
in a wall, where they were quite protected. "Here's a roaser!" shouted
Tom, struggling with something, and
then hoisting into the air upon the
end of his spear a huge crawfish.
"He'll do for bait"' sold Will, tossing
the flapping animal, that looked exactly like a lobster, except that in the
place of claws it had- two long, sharp
spin©?, or whips, Into the b»at.
A great Jew-fish was the next victim, It was found in between two
large heads of coral, and when struck,
made a savage resistance, breaking
Tom's spear-pole; but they all combined forces and soon battered the monster to death. Its mouth was large
enough to take Tom's head*, and when,
afterward, the fish wa» weighed, it
tipped the scales at 214 pounds. Several more crawfish, an angel-fish and
several others were picked up, and
finally they came to a long stretch of
high branch-coral, cut up by Yarious
channels of sand. Into this they made
their way, coming to a standstill at a
clump of large heads that looked like
immense vases growing on the bottom
as many of them were hollowed out.
The boat was hauled between two of j
the heads, and Tom, Harry and the
others were sitting on her gunwale,
resting, when they were attracted by a
shout from Will, who had waded away
over the heads.
"Here a queer-looking something under the coral!" he shouted. "Come
over!" The boys shoved off in his
direction.
"It looks like a bundle of snakes,"
he continued. "Well, here goes 1" and,
aiming his grains at the object, Will
let drive. There was a great commotion for a moment. Will clung to his
grains, the pole bending and writhing
about.
••I can't see what it is!" he shouted.
"Come quick!"
The boys pushed hard, but were yet
twenty or thirty yards from Will,
when "he jumped upon a coral-head
with a scream, and up from the water,
clinging to his legs, appeared a slimj*,
writhing, clinging mass of flesh that
horrified the boys. Will had lost his
hold upon the spear, but courageously
drew his case-knife, and cut at the
monster, that had now crept up to his
waist.
"It's an octopus!" shouted Tom, as
the boat rushed into the head of coral;
and seizing his grains, overboard he
went, and as Harry grasped Will's extended arm, and tried to drag him into or toward the boat, he hurled his
spear again and again into the creature, and endeavored to push it from
Will's knee, where it had now settled,
under the vigorous blows of the knife.
Two of the arms were severed in
this way, but the others clung like
leeches, winding about his leas, doubling and twisting all the while.
Will was faint and weak, but the
rest encouraged him and finally he
struck a deep blow into the body of
the monster; and Tom, settling down
almost under water, with a tremendous lift tore the ugly creature from
its hold. At the same moment the
bovs in the boat, who had clung" to
Will, fairly jerked him into the boat,
with some of the arms of the octopus
still clinging to him. Tom was not a
moment behind, as the creature had
escaped from him, and he was likewise hauled aboard.
Will was badly cut; his legs, arm*-
and neck were coyered with round
marks, as if he had been cupped, and
some of them bled, while other sharp
bites were evidently the marks of the
parroWike bills. The water for many
feet about them still showed evidences
of the struggle, being as black as ink
from the sepia the animal had ejected
in its fear or rage.
Will had been well rubbed with
some oil they had in the boat, and was
determined to have the body of t <e octopus. So, after the water had cleared
they commenced the search, and finally the ugly fellow—or what was left
of it—was found nnder a clump of
branch-coral. The boat was held over
the spot, and three spears were sent
it at once. IBven now it struggled
hard, and as they lifted it aboard the
creature dragged at least fifty pounds
of dead coral with it. But, once in
the boat, it was soon finished with a
hatchet, and packed away in a barrel,
which it nearly filled, and was found
to weigh afterward 170 pounds.
"You wouldn't believe a, creature
like that would have so muchstrength,"
said Will, as they started for home.
"As soon as I hit it, it seemed to run
up the grains, and nearly twisted the
pole out of my hands, and the water
became as black as ink; and the first
thing I knew I felt something like a
red-hot band clasp my leg—and then
another—and then I made a jump
for the'head,' and the animal tried to
climb upon me. I don't know whether he was trying to attack me or to
escapej'but I've learned one lesson—
never to 'strike' an octopus unless
you are in a boat."
A slight breeze had sprung up, -and
after stepping the mast, they bore
away for home to relate their adventure; which, however, was not the
last that fell to their lot on the great
reef.—Golden Days.
Guiteau's Career Ended.
How a Statesman Controlled
Temper.
His
HAS A XOKG *?ArN*CD*G SPEI"0.
At 12:10 p. m. of Jane 80, 1882, Charles 3.
Guiteau was executed at Washington for the
murder of President James A. Garfield. Some
two hundred persons, within the jail yard, as
jurors, deputies and reporters, witnessed the
scene, which many came to witness hut were
denied. The execution was conducted with
all the propriety which is possible to a scene of
like nature.
Guiteau rose at 5 o'clock on Friday, breakfasted heartily at 6:40, and had repeated conversations with Chaplain Hicks. Heaskedlhe
chaplain to look to the scaflo'd, that all was
right and that no accident might mar the occasion, and wished to have the trap sprung as
soon after 12 o'cloek as possible. He thenread
his poem, which he called "Simplicity, or Ro-
ligious Baby Talk,^ and afterward attempted
to sing it. He referred to the ordeal through
which he was to pass, and said he still held to
the idea that God "had inspired hiin. At 10
o'clock he desired a bath, and a tub was taken
to his cell. The attendants thought it obvious
that his object*was some occupation which
would divert him from the contemplation of
the approaching ECene, which caused much
apparent nervousness.
At 11 o'clock Guiteau called for paper, and
busied himself in making a copy of his "Prayer
on the Scaffold." At 11:30 Mrs. Scoville asked
for admission into the jail, but J. W. Guiteau,
who was sitting in the rotunda, thought her
brother would prefer not to see her, though
he expected she would send him some flowers-
She -was in great excitement, bordering on
hysteric*', but wa8 dissuaded from further attempt to gain admission, and sent the prisoner by another. Guiteau ate a hearty dinner,
consisting of a pound of broiled steak, a dish
of fried potatoes four slices of toast, and a
quart of coffee.
Shortly before 12, Guiteau seemed to break
down, burst into tears, and sobbed hysterically,,
while Dr. Hicks sat by his side fanning him.
The rattling of the muskets occasioned much
nervousness, and he was overcome with emotion. On his walk to the gallows he seemed
paliid, and the muscles about the mouth moved nervously. On reaching the platform he
was placed directly behind the drop, facing
the scaffold's f ron t. At "Warden Crocker b' bid-
ding,the heada of the spectators were uncover-,
ed, and Dr. Hicks made the following '
PBAtER.
Father: Oat of the depths we cry to Thee.
Hear Thou our supplication for the sake of
Jesus Christ, the Savior, who has made full
propitiation for us. Behold this Thy servant
\V6 humbl** pray Thou wilt deliver him at this
supreme moment of his life. Let Thy light
descend aa Ms life. Let Thy light descend on
him. Liberate his soul from prison. May he
appear before Thee absolved by Thy great
mercy from blood guiltiness. Deliver him
and us. God have mercy on us; Christ have
mercy on us; Lamb of Gcd that takest away
the sins of the world have mercy on us.
Amen and amen.
Guiteau remained with bowed head during
the praywr, and while a passage wa3*-ead
from Matt. 10, 28 41. Then tho prisoner read
in a loud tone, his
Dm?© PBAYEB ON THE GA1LOWS.
contraction was noticed. The physicians Who
examined the body, taken down in about three
minutes, found some action of the heart
continue for 14 minutes and the pulse to flutter two minutes longer, and that the neck was
broken. John W. Guiteau stood doling the
scene just within the line of officers at the
foot of the scaffold. He said that
brother would be buried in the jail, and the
Warden indicates the spot as in the same
court with the gallows, about four yards from
it. The fellow prisoners of Guiteau, it is said,
joined with the spectators in their cheering,
as the sCane Closed, but the moat noticeable
feeling, among all classes, the nation through,
is one of relief, that law has been finally vindlg
cated, and the perpetrator of the foulest crimB
has met bis deserved fate. \
The Boomed Town.
Grrinnel is a town of about three
thousand people, and is situated on the
Chicago, Eock Island and Pacific- and
the lo wa Central railroads. It is lo'cat|-
ed 121 miles west of the Mississippi
Eiver and fifty-five miles east of I)e|
Moines. The country around it is. a
beautiful undulating prairie. An old?
resident described the approach of the
cyclone as follows:—The clock in my
house, which situated in the westenj.
end of the place, stopped at ten minutes
of nine. The sky was red and ugly
looking in the southwest. There was
not much wind at the time. I could
see a long distance in the direeiioii
named, and apparently about three-!
quarters of a mile were two wateii
spouts^ one of which was shaped like a1
chimney. The.wind had been blowing!
from the southeast forlilil^al hours.j
Then came a lull for about ten mantes^
and it was likened to the stillness of?
death.
AEPKOACH OF THE CXCLONE.
The storm was then heard approach^
ing from the west with the noise of a
dozen thundering railroad trains. The
lightning was not seen by most "of the
people, they had from three to five minutes' warning to flee to the cellars.
When the terror came it struck the
town in furrows, and it continued blowing not over three minutes when the
rain fell in torrents. The air was filled
with the shrieks of the populace crying
for help. The large spout to the north
and slightly over the other was smaller to the south of it. They were travelling about one hundred feet apart, and j
must have come together at the corner j
of West and Sixth streets. »
AN AWFUL VISITATION". j
There was a heavy noise like the fir- j
ing of distant artillery for a few min- f
utes, the like of which was never heard j
here before.   All at once the cyclone i
struck and the water came in columns,"
accompanied by the most terrific wind.
It was continued about three minutes,
possibly, and then all was over in the
streets.   The water was a foot deep.
Those were terrible moments.   In less
than five minutes the lovely city was
thrown from peace and prosperity into
chaos.
When M. de Persigny was French
Minister of the Interior, he received a
visit one day from a friend, who, on
sending up his name, was shown into
the great man's sanctum. A warm discussion arose between them. Suddenly
an usher entered and. handed the minister a note. On opening it he at once
changed his tone of voice, and assumed
a quiet and urbane manner. Puzzled
as to the contents of the note, and by
the marked effect it had suddenly produced upon the minister, his friend cast
a furtive glance at it, when to his astonishment,; he perceived * that it was
simply a plain sheet of paper, without
a scratch upon it. More puzzled than
ever, the gentleman, after a few minutes, took his leave, and proceeded to
interrogate the usher, to whom he was
well known, for he himself had been
Minister of the Interior.
"You have," said he, "just handed to
the minister a note, folded up, which
had a most extraordinary.effect npon
him. Now, it was a plain sheet of paper, with nothing written upon it.
What did it mean?"
"Sir," replied the usher, "here is the
explanation, which I must beg you to
keep secret, for I do not wish to compromise myself. My master is very liable to lose his temper. As he himself
is aware of his weakness, he has ordered me, each time that his voice is raised
sufficiently to be audible in the anteroom, without delay to place a sheet of
paper in an envelope, and take it to him.
That reminds him that'his temper is
getting the better of .him, and he at
once calms himself. Just now I heard
his voice rising, and immediately carried out my instructions."
Sunday Fishers.—If the report of
the STew York Sun that President Arthur and Ex-Senator Conklin went to
Long Island on a fishing excursion, after attending church upon a recent
Sabbath, is correct, the Toledo Bee
suggest the following as an appropriate
text for pulpit discourse, "And the
chief man of the.nation, (the president)
went fishing on a Sunday."
Self - Delusion. — A fish being
caught on a hook, reproached the ang
ler forhiscruelty.   --Ueproacb yourself, rather," said the angler, "for your
intended cruelty to the worm."
Father, now I go to thee and the Savior. I
havo finished the work thou gavesfc me to do,
and I am only too happy to go to Thee. The
world doss not yet appreciate my mission, but
thou kuowest it Thou knowest then didst
inspire Garfield's removal and only good has
come from it. This is the best evidence that
inspiration came from thee, and I have set it
forth in my book that all men may read ana
may know, that Thou, Father, didst inspire
the act for which I am murdered. This government and nation by this act, I know, will
incur thy eternal enmity, as did the J6ws by
killing thy man, my Savior. The retribution
m that case came quick and sharp and I know
thy divine laws of retribution will strike this
nation and my murderers in the same way.
The diabolical spirit of this nation, its govern-
ment and its newspa'pers will justify Thee in
cursing them, and I know that Divine retribution is inexorable. I, therefore, predict that
this nation will go down in blocd and my murderers from the executive to the hangman will
go to hell. Tby laws are inexorable. Oh,thou
supreme judge, woe unto the nlc-n that violate
thy laws; only weeping and gnashing of teeth
await them. The American press has a large
bill to settle with Thee, righteous Father, for
their \indictiven6e3 in this matter. Nothing
hut blood will satisfy them, and now my blood
bf) on them and this nation and its offieiala
Arthur, the President, is a coward and an in-
grate. His ingratitude to the man that saved
him and his party and the land from overthrow has no parallel in history. But Thou
righteous Father wilt judge him. Father,
Thou knowestme, but the world hath not
known me and now I go to thee and the Savior without the slightest ill will toward a
human being.  Farewell, ye men of earth.
After he had finishbd his prayer, be read the
verses which he said he had compassed in the
morning, to indicate his feelings at the moment of leaving the world, and said that if set
to music, they would be effective. They ran
as follows:
THE DITTY.
I am going to the Lordy,
I am so glad;
I am. going to the Lordy,
I am so glad;
I am going to the Lordy,
Glory hallelujah, glory hallelujah!
am going to the Lordy;
I love the Lordy with all my soul,
Glory hallelujah,  ,
And that is the re-ison I am going to the Lordy,
Glory hallelujah, glory hallelujah,
I am going to the Lord—
Here Guitoau's voice failed and ho bowed his
head and broke into eobe, but he rallied a little
and went on with his chant—
Is».v8d my party and my land, glory hallelujah,
But they have murdered me for it and that is
the reason I am going to the Lordy,
Glory hallelujah, glory hallelujah, I am going
to the Lordy.
Hero again his feelings overcame him and
he leaned his head on the ehoulder of Dr.
Hicks and sobbed pitifully.   Still he went on:
I wonder what I will do when I got to the
Lordy.
I guess that I will weep no more when I get
to the Lordy;
Glory hallelujah,
Here thore was another interruption eaused
by sobs and emotions' which he was unable to
repress. He wept bitterly and then with
quivering lips and mournful tones he went on
to finish his ditty:
I wonder what I will see whGn I get to the
Lor3y.
I expect to sea most splendid things beyond
all earthly conception,
When I am with the Lordy,
Gloryhallelujah.  (Raising his voice to the
highest pitch he could command).
I am with the Lord.
The chant concluded, the chaplain gave
Guitenu had final benediction, his leg-- were
pinioned, the noose adjusted, and the black
cap placed over his head, Guiteau calling out,
"Glory, Glory, Glory," meanwhile. At the
touch of the spring, the drop fell, and the
murderer of Garfield was la-jnrhed into eternity. There was no perceptible motion of the
body for 40 seconds, when a slight muscular
Suggestive to Fault "Finders.
"Ifow, deacon, I've just one word to
say. I can't bear our preaching. I get
no good. There's so much in it I don't
want that I grow lean on it. I lose my
time and pains."
"Mr. Bunnell, comeinhere. There's I
my cow, 'Thankful'—she can teach you j
theology." j
"A cow teach theology! What do you j
mean?"
"ISTow, see, I have just thrown her a
forkful of hay.   Just watch her. There \
now!   She has  found  a  stick—you j
know sticks will getinto the hay—and |
see how she tosses it to one side and j
goes on to eat what is good.   There {
again!   She has found a burdock, and
she throws it one side and goes on eating.   And there!   She does not relish
that bunch of daisies, and leaves them J
and goes on eating.   Before morning
she will have cleared the manger of all j
save a few sticks and weeds, and she j
will give milk.   There's milk in that j
hay, and she knows how to get- it out, .j
albeit there may be now and then a I
stick or weed which she leaves.   But if j
she refused to eat, and spent the time j
in scolding about the fodder, she, too, j
would 'grow lean,' and the milk would j
dry up.   Just "so with our preaching.
Let the old cow "teach you.-  Get all the
good you can out of it and leave the
rest.   You *will find, a good deal of
nourishment in it.
A Self-Poised Woman.
The tramp ascended the front steps
and after taking the precaution to read )
the door plate, rang the bell with a
free and-easy confidence born of
previous success. The door was opened by a woman, as the tramp anticipated. "Is Mr. Brown in?" *he asked.
The woman took an inventory of his
face and clothing and replied: -*23b>j
Mr. Brown isn't in, but Mrs. Brown is.
I've just sent Brown for a cent's, worth
of yeast; when he comes back he'll
have to put out the line and hang out
the wash, then I shall send him out
with the baby, and after that he "will
feave his sweeping and dusting to do.
IsTo, you can't see Brown to-day and't
wouldn't make any difference if you
could; I attend to business here." The
tramp said he guessed he'd mistaken
the house; and Mrs. Brown, as she
slammed the door, said she reckoned he
had.—Boston Transervpt.
A Year Without a Summer.
In the year of 1816 there was a sharp
frost in every month of the year in the
Northern States. It was known as the
year without a summer. The farmers
used to refer to it as eighteen hundred
and starve to death. In May ice form-{
edhalf an inch thick in Hartford, buds
and flowers were frozen, and corn was
killed in the adjacent towns. Frost
ice, and snow were common in June
throughout Conneeticui and the snow
fell five inches deep in Hew York, and
in Massachusetts ten inches deep on
June 19. July was accompanied with
frost and ice. On the Sth ice formed to
the thickness of window glass in Canton, Conn., and throughout New England and Pennsylvahi4 corn was nearly all destroyed in matiy sections. In
August ipe formed half an Inch thick
in Litchfield. A cold; northern wind
preyailednearly all summer with heavy
rain-falls. Corn was so frozen that a
greater part was cut down and dried
t0T £°,ddeiL Facers were obUgedto
pay $-tor $5 a bushel for corn of 1815
| for seed forJhe next spring's planting
o
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