Bellefonte, Pa., May 16, 1890.
ALL SORTS OF GIRLS.
There's the pretty girl,
And the witty girl, ;
And the girl that bangs her hair,
The girl that's a flirt,
And the gir! that is pert,
And the girl with the baby stare.
There's the dowdy girl,
And the rowdy girl,
And the girl that is always late ;
There's the girl of style,
And the girl of wile, :
And the girl with the mincing gait.
There's the tender girl,
And the slender girl,
And the girl that says her prayers ;
There’s the haughty girl,
And the naughty girl,
And the girl that puts on airs.
There's the tulu girl,
And the “fool youn” girl,
And the girl that bets on the races ;
There's the candy girl,
And the handy girl,
And the girl that has two faces.
There’s the we!l-bred girl,
And the well-read girl,
And the girl with a sense of duty ;
There's the dainty girl,
And the “fainty” girl,
And the girl that has no beauty.
There's the lazy girl,
And the “daisy” girl,
And the girl that's a merry joker;
There's the girl that’s shy,
And the girl that’s fly,
And the girl that bluffs at poker.
There are many others,
O, men and brothers,
Not named in this narration ;
There are girls and girls,
And they're all of them pearls,
They're the best things in creation.
i ———————————————
A CONVOY OF RUBIES,
BY CAPT. CHARLES M. KEMP.
It was a great relief to me, after be-
ing shifted all over Burmah,from Man-
dalay to the Shan Hills, to find myself
comfortably fixed at last in the ruby
mine district of Mogok.
Colonel Barre was in charge of the
mines, and our little military station
was situated up on the slope of the
Western Hills, an elevation which as-
sured us of health, and from whence a
most entrancing view could at all times
be had, embracing the village of Mogok
itself, the wide valley fragrant with
pink lotus blossoms and wild roses,
dotted with mining camps and the
white tents of the British soldiery, and
dazzling brilliant when the sun shone
on the golden domed temples and
pagodas that stand to commemorate
* the virtues of deceased Chinese miners.
Ah! the wealth that flows into Eng-
land’s coffers from that little Burmese
valley. Never did fortunes of war
yield a richer prize to a conquering
nation.
I was sittirg on the veranda one af-
ternoon, industriously rubbin: away at
a pair of revolvers, for on the following
morning [ was to undertake the most
important commission that can be as-
signed to an officer in Burmah.
The vast store of rabies that had been
accumulating for months under British
supervision was to be removed to the
treasure house at Mandalay, and I was
to escort this most valuable convoy to
the Imperial City.
In King Theebaw’s days many a
convoy bad fallen into the hands of the
dacoits, and esen under British rule
there had been several narrow escapes.
I was so engrossed in bringing a
shine to my pistol barrels that I failed
to observe Colonel Barre galloping up
the road until he had actually pulled
his horse up infront of the station.
“Captain, T have changed my mind
about the ruby convoy.” he said hur-
riedly, as he wiped the perspiration
from his face.
“The duce!” T exclaimed. taken by
surprise. “Beg pardon, colonel ; what |
were you going to say ?"
“It’s just this,” he went on. “So
many of these Chinese and Pathan fel-
lows have been gathering at the mines
lately that I concluded the sooner the
rubies were off the better. Now, just
on the eve of starting, come rumors of
dacoits between us and the river.”
“What are you going to do?” said I.
“Can’t you trust the rubies here a while
longer 2”
“No, I cannot,” said the colonel de-
cisively. “I won't risk it at all. I
have a better plan. The convoy will
start at midnight ander—not your
command, but Lieutenant Herman’s.
The chests will contain—not rubies,
but stones. They will take the usual
route to the river, where the steamer
will be waiting. Two hours later,
toward daybreak, you will start with
the treasure cart, and here is a map of
the jungle road vou will take.”
The colonel tossed me a bit of paper,
over which I pored, lost in admiration
at his cleverness.
To be sure the jungle road was long-
er—a good seventy-five miles to Man-
dalay, while it was but fifty miles to
the Irrawaddy and the wailing steam-
er. But the back route led through
an almost deserted country, and there
would be little fear of molestation.
“You see,” said the colonel, “the
chief point will be to get off quietly. I
can trust you to manage that, Then T
have a guide for you, a fellow who
knows the road well. Otherwise vou
might get off tae track, and land your
treasure at some dacoit stronghold.”
“Who is he ?” I asked carelessly.
“Hokar Singh,the Hindoo,” was the
reply. “He knows every inch of the
country for a hundred miles around.”
I was pleased to hear this, for there
was no one in Mogok I would have
trusted more implicitly,
Hokar Singh had been attached to
the Bombay Lancers for several years,
and stood high with the British offi-
cials. He had formerly been a mine
oyerseer under King Theebaw.
I finished my revolvers, and then,
mentally noting the colonel’s fiaal in-
structions, I rode down into the valley,
as night was coming on rapidly.
Two companies of Lancers and na-
tive troops stood guard over the small
iron house on the outskirts of the vil-
lage, where the rubies were kept.
I found Herman all ready for his
share of the work. A lot of chests had
been filled with stones, and about mid-
night they were loaded on a bullock
cart, and off went Herman, with his
escort of twenty men, rattling noisily
over the river road. No doubt more
than one pair of eyes watched their de-
parture from the shadows on the hill-
sides.
It was now my turn to act. Every
one went back to sleep, and soon the
camp was dark and silent, save for the
pacing sentries.
Hokar had already provided a
strong bullock eart, which was waiting
on the border of the jungle, clear be-
youd the village.
Sentries were posted on the ap-
proaches from the village and then,
box by box, the precious jewels were
carried to the cart.
My escort of two dozen picked men
led their horses softly to the starting
place, and just two hours after Herman's
departure we mounted and rode into
the jungle.
We pressed on rapidly all day long.
The road was wretchedly bad, running
over mountains and throngh stony val-
leys, but it was secluded enough, for
not a soul did we meet all day, and at
nightful we reached the one village on
the route, a handful of huts called
Parados.
We turned the head man out of his
stockaded house and transformed it.
into a military camp, where we spent
the night in happy security.
‘The second day's journey was
through still worse country, but Hoker
rode at my side, pointing out the way
from time to time without hesitation.
At sunset we were riding through a
deep and narrow valley, our passage
disputed by a brawling mountain tor-
rent that at times took up all the way
and compelled us to flounder through
the water.
Darkness coming on, it was Hobson's
choice of a camping place, so I picked
out a bit of level ground backed by a
steep part of the mountain.
The stream at this point sank into
rather a deep cutting and rushed past
with the speed of a mill race.
Hokar rather ridiculed my choice,
and strongly urged me to camp in a
wider part of the valley, but I felt a
little uneasy and adheared to my first
intention. It was well I did so.
The cart was put back against the
mountain and a circle of camp fires
was built along the edge of the stream,
for prowling tigers were very bold in
this part of the country. Our light sup:
per was soon disposed of, and after a
pipe or two we turned in.
How long I slept I don’t know. I
woke up with a start. The night air
was chill and cold. The fires had
burned low, but there was still glow
enough to shed a dim light on my
sleeping companions.
Beyond the camp by the edge of the
stream I heard the tread of the sentries,
and a sottly spoken word or two as
they lit their pipes or carried on a
trade 1n tobacco.
I discovered I was thirsty, and tak-
ing a cup from my saddle bags I stari-
ed for the stream, picking my way
carefully among the blanketted sleep-
ers,
Just as I reached the last man a
root caught my foot and down I came
with a crash.
But what was this ?—a man surely.
No, only a blanket, and in its spacious
folds a log of wood. My suspicions
were aroused in an instant. I called in
the sentries, the camp woke up in con-
fusion, and in a very brief time the
missing owner ‘of the blanket was
known.
It was Hokar Singh.
My heart sank within me as I com-
prehended what this probably meant,
and yet I was loath to believe the Hin-
doo capable of treachery.
The sentries were closely questioned,
but knew nothing. Hokar’s departure
had been well planned.
A dozen little incidents unnoticed be-
fore flashed up in my mind, fraught
with sudden meaning. The convoy of
rubies was in danger, and onr lives as
well were in_iminent peril,
“Make haste,” 1 said to the men.
“Get each of you a log. Roll it in your
blankets and place it in a natural posi-
tion just where you were sleeping.”
This was soon done, and then we
drew back by the mountain wall and
took up our positions behind ‘the cart,
resolved to defend the treasure to the
last.
Here another startling discovery was
made. The scoundrel had carried off
a box of shells, and our sole ammuni-
tion consisted of what each man car-
ried in his belt. There was no longer
room for doubt. Hokar was a traitor,
and at this lonely spot he had planned
to meet his confederates.
For a long time all was silent. Not
a bird or an animal was heard in the
forest, a sure sign that human prow-
lers were about. I had left no sentries
outside, for the dying embers threw a
dull glow ahead on the stony ground
and the wider portion of the stream, a
brief vista that merged suddenly into
the shadows beyond.
Finally one of the men beside me
held up his hard.
‘Hark, captain,” he whispered trem-
ulously.
We were all attention in an instant,
and, straining our ears, we fancied we
heard above the babble of the stream a
crackling of twigs, a rusting of branch-
es. Then all was still again, and we
were already half persuaded that we
heard nothing.
I had lowered my rifle when sudden-
ly, without an instants warning, a
dark shadow glides out upon the fire-
lit road, and then another and another,
until che forest itself seems to be mov-
ing directly upon our camp.
“Hold your fire till the command,”
I whispered hoarsely.
I cock my rifle, and click, click go
the rest all about me.
comes closer and closer until the circle
of dying embers is reached, and I can
distinguish the fierce,swarthy faces, the
long, gleaming rifle barrels. T look for
Hokar but fail to recognize him.
It is time to act now, for the foe are
suspicious. They peer in at the mo-
The dark mass :
tionless objects on the ground, they
raise their guns and lower them again.
“Ready!” TI whispered sharply.
“Now then, all together. Fire!”
A blaze of ight as the rifle volley
thundered through the narrow gorge,
and then, as the echoes reverberated
and the smoke curled upwards,
there rose a fearful din and uproar,
shouts of triumph, shrieks of agony,
the neighing of frightened horses, the
hurrying tread of many feet.
Another volley was poured in blind-
ly, but to good effect, for shrill cries
arose. And then an answering fire
came back, and the angry bullets spat-
tered on the boards of the cart and on
the bluff of the mountain,
Through the hoyering smoke we
fought on, and now ‘two of my brave
men fell and the horses, mad with
wounds and fright, tore -Ioose and
stampeded down the gorge, trampling
us under foot in their panic.
Sullen and desperate the enemy drew
off, and the smoke rising revealed the
dead scattered amid the embers of the
trampled fires.
It was only a breathing spell, and
presently they advanced with a furious
rush. A hot fire raked them down.
Twice they came to the very muzzles of
our rifles, and twice they rolled back
in fear.
The third time they broke in confu-
sion and retreated into the shadows of
the forest. A respite was eagerly wel-
comed for three of my brave fellows
were dead and half a dozen others had
sustained severe wounds.
Our situation seemed hopeless,
horses gone, ammunition nearly ex-
hausted, and a bloodthirsty foe all
around us.
It was now close upon daylight, and
as the Eastern sky began to glow faint-
ly, various sounds told us that the da-
coits were preparing for the final attack.
The men were cool and I knew they
would fight bravely.
The robbers came on quietly. As
before, we allowed them to advance al-
most to the cart and then we let them
havea tremendous volley.
They wavered an instant, poured in
a hot fire, and then, under cover of the
smoke and cheered on by our encoura-
ging shouts in the rear, they bore down
on us 1n a thick mass and we saw with
horror their ugly faces looming up out
of the smoke.
Sabers and revolvers were drawn,
rifles were clubbed and in an instant a
hot fight was waging over the upturn-
ed cart.
Mad with anger we hurled ourselves
against the assassins, I saw two large
burly fellows go down before my re-
volver, and all around me sabers were
flashing redly as the troopers laid low
their men with grim determination.
For one brief instant it lookel as
thongh the victory might be ours, but
a fresh supply pressing on from the
rear, the dacoits were fairly forced in-
to the enclosure, and they drove us
with fierce cries back against the
mountain.
I saw two of my men go down before
the long bladed spears, and maddened
by the sight I drove my saber into the
throat of the dacoit nearest me. He
went over backward, but his spear
took me in the shoulder as he fell, and
down I went too.
In a second the fiends were tramp-
ling over me. I made a desperate ef-
fort to rise, and struggled to a leaning
position when asudden burst of mus-
ketry rang out on the air, and mingled
with it I heard the clear unmistakable
notes of a bugle. What could it mean ?
A panic fell on the enemy, and they
broke away with loud cries. I heard
dimly a cheer from the remnant of my
brave troopers as they swept forward
again, and then came an answering
hail close at hand, and then another
deafening rifle volley.
I scrambled up between two dead
dacoits, all powder stained and blood
covered, and in an instant I was clas
ing bands, warmly with Colonel Barre
himself.
The enemy were vanishing up the
gorge, closely pursued by the avenging
troopers, and the steady crack, crack of
the rifles told a plain tale of retribution.
“Gad, sir, I came in just the nick of
time,” cried the colonel. “Five minutes
more and they would have cleaned you
up to a man. Why—what’s this?
You'rewounded, captain.”
I had forgotten that fact in my ex-
citement, but a sharp twang of pam
drew attention to my arm. It was an
ugly flesh wound, but a sponging with
cold water and a roll of bandages soon
made me comfortable again.
Our marvelous rescue was soon ex-
plained. More than twenty-four hours
after our departure from Mogok a re-
port of Hokar's intended treachery had
been brought to Colonel Barre by a
Burmese miner, who refused to tell
where he got his information.
The colonel was incredulous, but re-
solved to be on the safe side, he start-
ing at once with two companies and by
hard riding reached us just in time,
They had heard the firing plainly
during the first attack, and realizing the
desperate state of affairs had spurred
on with all their might, riding blindiy
through the forest in the darkness.
I mourned the loss of seven men kill-
ed besides many severely wounded,
and of the dacoits we found twenty-two
dead, so destructive had been our fire.
To my intense disappointment the
treacherous Hindoo had escaped, and
every effort to capture him proved fu-
tile.
It was a sad procession that wound
slowly along the mountain road toward
Mandalay that morning. Most of my
men were on foot, for only a few of
our horses had been recaptured, and
our progress was slow, for we carried
the dead with us on rude stretchers.
We entered Mandalay at sunset and
great crowds followed up through the
streets to the residency, where the pre-
cious chest of rubies was at last con-
signed to safety.
Lieutenant Herman had arrived
by river at noon, and at the barracks
that evening he listened to the thrill-
ing story we had to tell.
Proclamations and rewards were of-
fered for the capture of Hokar Singh
were posted all over Burmah, but the
traitor kept well out of the way, al-
though as likely as not he is only bid-
ing his time until a fresh store of rubies
shall have been accumulated at the
mine of Mogok.— The Argosy.
a —————————————
An Almost Forgotten Crime.
In Captain Basil Hall's account of
his travels in the United States in 1831
he refers to a murder trial in progress
near Philadelphia as creating a ‘marked
sensation throughout the entire country.
This was the case of Mrs. Chapman, ac-
cused of taking the life of her husband
by poison. Thedetails, as brought out
in the trial, are strange and sensational
in the highest degree.
Mrs. Chapman was the wife of Wil-
liam Chapman, a well-known and high-
ly respected school master, who kept a
boarding house at Andalusia, in Bucks
county. He was especially successful
in treating pupils who had impediments
of speech and many of his scholars were
of this class. His wife’s maiden name
was Winslow and she was a New Eng-
lander by birth. Previous to her mar-
riage to Mr. Chapman she had been a
teacher in Madame Le Brun’s Ladies’
school on Spruce street, Philadelphia,
and had an excellent reputation. On
the 19th of May, 1831, Mr. Chapman
and his family were seated on the porch
of their dwelling at Andalusia when a
small, dark man, very shabbily dressed,
came into the yard and in broken Eng-
lish asked for something to eat. Chap-
man was kindly in disposition and gave
largely in cnarity,"and he ordered the
man into the kitchen, where he gota
good meal. He then asked permission
to sleep in the house that night, stating
that he was penniless.
Mr. Chapman seems to have dis-
trusted him, but, to the surprise of all,
his wife took part in the discussion by
insisting that the tramp should be per-
mitted to stay, and he entered the house
into which be was fated to bring a dou-
ble crime. Mrs. Chapman seemed in-
fatuated with the man, although to oth-
ers he was a fawning, abject creature.
He gave his name as Lino Amalio Hs-
posy Mina and stated that his father
was Governor of California and his
wealth enormous. So contradictory
were his statements and so palpable his
lies that those who came in contact with
him at once set him down as an impos-
tor, but Mrs. Chapman championed
him aud, having command over her
husband, got him to advance money for
a suit of clothes. She personally ac-
companied him to James Page's at
Sixth and Chestnut streets, where he
was measured for an expensive outfit.
Page wrote to Chapman to be on his
guard, as he believed the Mexican was a
scoundrel. He was now an inmate of
the family and his relations with Mrs.
Chapman began to create scandal.
They went out riding together and were
seen by the neighbors in compromising
situations.
On June 16th Mina came toPhiladel-
phia and went to Durand’s drug store,
at the southwest corner of Chestnut and
Sixth streets. He wanted arsenic for
preserving bird skins, he said, and was
given two ounces. On the 17th of June
Chapman was taken sick and was con-
fined to his bed. Mina nursed him, but
the unforiunate man grew worse, and
on the 23d he died. The housekeeper
had noticed that some rice soup which
she had made for the sick man and
which Mina had taken to his room,
when thrown out in the yard had killed
a number of ducks belonging to a neigh-
bor, but she kept her own counsel. Af-
ter the funeral was over people began
to talk, and when, on the 5th of July,
twelve days after her husband’s death,
his widow was married to Mina, public
suspicion began to take the shape of a
legal investigation.
Mina had, immediately after the
wedding, commenced to collect and sell
the furniture in the house, and Mrs.
Chapman’s eyes were then opened to
the character of the scoundrel who had
misled her. Taking her four children,
the eldest a girl of ten, she fled to Erie,
Pa., and here she was arrested. Mina
escaped to Boston, but in September he
was caught and brought back to Doyles-
town,
Mrs. Chapman was tried first before
Judge Fox. David Paul Brown, Wil-
liam B. Reed and Pelle McCall were
her lawyers. In the trial Brown made
the effort of his life and was regarded
thenceforth as the greatest criminal law-
yer in the United States. After reading
the evidence it seems incredible that a
hard headed country jury could have
acquitted the murderess.
In her last letter to Mina was this
sentence: ‘‘Believe me, Lino, that God
will not suffer yon orme to be happy
this side of the grave.” On the 29th of
February the trial ended and Mrs.
Chapman was free, but she was shunned
by all, and twelve years after her ac-
quittal a gentleman who knew her well
was in the town of Lancaster and visit-
eda poor variety show. A wretched
looking woman and a poor thin girl
were singing on the stage and he recog-
nized them as Mrs. Chapman and her
daughter, Lucretia. This was her re-
tribution. {
Mina was tried and convicted, May
1, 1832, and was hanged in Doylestown.
He male a confession, acknowledging
that he administered the poison to Mer.
Chapman in his food and that Mrs:
Chapman was cognizant of all he did.
He was a native of Cuba and was born
in 1809.”
——
The Hero of the Juniata.
Two Men Rescued from Drowning by a
Gallant Fisherman.
Hu~riNGDoN, Pa., May 2.—A thrill-
ing rescue of two persons from drown-
ing took place at the Huntingdon dam,
in the Juniata river, two miles east of
here, this morning. The hero of the
occasion is Washington Long, the hum-
ble fisherman who, during the memor-
able June flood of 1889, at the risk of
losing his own lite, saved nine persons
from drowning. Early this morning
two negroes of this place,Charles Miller,
who recently received a pension of near-
ly $5,000, and Armstrong Willard, start-
ed down the river in a boat, on a hunt-
ing and fishing expedition. At the
confluence of the Juniata river and the
Raystown Branch, two miles below
town, the current of the stream is very
swift. About 200 yards below where
the two rivers meet is located the dam,
which reaches from shore to shore, a
lf
distance of more than a quartey of a
mile. Owing to the volume of waer in
the streams at the present time, th: dam
is completely submerged,and contrbutes
but little jtowards checking the rapid
force of the current. To-day the water
fairly boiled in shooting over thedam,
and so great, indeed, was its force that
for nearly two miles below it fopned a
series of veritable rapids amonz the
many shoals and small islands which
dot the river’s course.
After steering their boat int: the
stream below, where the two nvers
meet, Miller and Willard lost control of
their frail craft, and, being at the mercy
of the angry waters, they were carried
headlong over the dam. "In making the
plunge the boat upset, throwing the two
men out into the seething water, and
finally carrying them on to the rapids
below. A conception of the force of the
water can be formed from the fact that
the boat was ground into splinters by
the opposing forces of the stream. The
gun, nets and other property of the men
were also lost.
The few affrichted spectators on the
shore were unable to see any signs of
the unfortunate men, and it was be-
lieved they were lost. The swift cur-
rent carried them on down the river
among the ‘rocks and other dangerous
obstructions. By a super human effort
Miller succeeded in catching hold of a
projecting tock and clung to it. His
companion likewise anchored himself
against the battling tide. All that was
visible of the two unfortunate men were
their heads above the surface of the
water.
At this juncture Washington Long,
who was fishing on the north bank of
the river nearly opposite where
the imperiled men were located, essayed
to effect their rescue. The task was a
most difficult and dangerous under-
taking, but with all the dexterity of
an experienced boatman Long finally
succeeded in forcing his frail boat
against the rushing current and rescuing
the men from their perilous position.
A minute longer and both, it is said,
would have perished through exhaus-
tion.
The Suspicious Case at Lairdsville.
Circumstances Strengthen the ‘Belief
That He Was Murdered and, the Store
Burned to Cover the Crime.
The Muncy Luminary, speaking of
this mysterious case says :
Was Hiram Crouse robbed and mur-
dered and his building then set on fire to
destroy the evidence of the crime, is the
question that is agitating the people of
Lairdsville and vicinity. It is safe to say
that nine-tenths of all the people familiar
with the circumstances believe that the
question can only receive an affirmative
answer. While this belief is almost uni-
versal, very little, if any, evidence has
Leen discovered to support the belief,
but the position of the body when found,
and location of the fire when first dis-
covered, are at least suspicious. The cel-
lar under the store room extended about
four teet into the street beyond the store
front, and was covered by a porch, with
steps to enter the store door ; the room
over the store, in which Mr. Crouse
slept, extended as far front as the cellar
below, and over the porch. Mr. Crouse’s
bed stood with the hed to’ the north,
and at least fifteen feet from the front of
the room. After the fire the buckles of
his trousers, his knife, and a small amount
ot money was found in the cellar, among
the irons of his bedstead. This it would
seems satisfactorily proves that Mr.
Crouse had been in bed. His body was
found face down against the front wall
of the building, his head about three feet
up the wall and his back bent to the
front by the weight of the timbers that
had fallen upon him. Those who ad-
vocate that Mr Crouse was dead when
placed in that position, think that had
he fallen from the front of the room up
stairs,he would have been in plain sight
and would have fallen on the porch, as
that part of the building was the last to
burn. Again the fire broke out in the
rear of the building, in the ware room,
and his friends think he would have
been able to make his way to the win-
dow in the front room, and that, had he
been in that room wher Joseph Smith
entered it from the window, he must
have been seen. And then, the walls
were pushed in to protect other property,
and it would certainly seem that, such
being the case, the body would have
been found rearer the centre of the cel-
ler. Mrs. William Ritter, who resides
next door, was up at 1 o’clock, and she
distinctly heard a noise, twice repeated,
that she now feels certain came from
Mr. Crouse’s store. She was somewhat
startled, but concluding that the noise
was made by horses, in some stable near
by, retired, without awakening her hus-
band, and in less than one hour the store
was discovered to be on fire. All these
circumstances lead the people, almost
unanimously, to believe that robbery
and murder most foul was first com-
mitted ; that Mr. Crouse was killed up
stairs, his body carried or dragged down
celler, placed where it was found, cover-
ed with the empty boxes and barrels
that were in that part of the cellar, to
make the destruction of the body cer-
tain. As it was, the remains whereso
disfigured that no absolutely certain
identification could be made. The
friends of the deceased are very anx-
iously looking for evidence, and will do
all that lies in their power to arrive at
the truth.
A ——————————————G—G—G
Boots of Human Skin.
In 1876 the firm of Hahrenholtz
Brothers, boot and shoemgkers, of New
York City, made a pair of boots from
human skin, which they sent to the
Centennial Exhibition at Philadelphia.
If we rememterr. h ly, they were mev-
er put on exhibition, which goes toshow
that there was some humanity in the
Centennial officials if notin the makers
of the ghastly foot-gear. Afterwards
they were sent to Prof. S. V. Baird,
of the Smithsonian Institution, who
would not allow them shelf-room.
The skin from which the boots were
made was taken from the breast, stomach
and back of a man who had died
suddenly and had been taken to a
medical college. In general looks the
boots were of a light-brown color and
somewhat heavier than if made from
calf-skin. The color was caused by
the tanning process. The leather was
much more porous than either calf or
cow skin.—St. Louis Republic.
All Sorts of Paragraphs.
—Patti never eats any bread unless it
is toasted.
—The author of “McGinty” has
drawn $2,500 royalties so far,
—A Bay City (Mich.) man can
make salt for eight cents a barrel.
—The heel of a man’s shoe should be
just seven-eighths of an inch high.
—General Miles is considered the
handsomest officer in the United States
army.
—General Jubal Early lives at Lyunch-
burg, Va., where he has a comfortable
home.
—Bismarck was once offered $1 a
word for all that he might contribute to
an American magazine.
—Tender sentiments are now painted
across the head-board of bedsteads to
promote happy dreams.
—Betsey Cox, a colored woman who
died near Greenville, S. C., was, it is
claimed, 180 years of age.
—Japanese chickens with tails from
eleven to thirteen feet long are being
i imported irto this country.
L —Herbert Gladstone announces his
intention to pay the United States and
Canada a visit this summer,
—Colonel Flagler, the St. Augustine
money king, has just paid the doctor
for attending his daughter, $250,000.
—A Bickley (Ga.) man has a hand-
saw which was bought in 1771, which
has been in use constantly ever since.
—Rain-in-the-Face, the great Sioux
chieftain, has applied for a position on
the police force of Bismarck, Dak.
--Right on top of the failure of the
ice crop comes the report that the Ver-
mont maple sugar supply is short this
year.
—A Mormon with two wives and
fourteen children was found in Provo,
U. T., recently, living in a hut with
one room.
—The oldest college dormitory in the
United States is that known as South
Middle at Yale. It was erected in
1752.
—Three Angora goats owned by Mr.
Hickathier, of Drain, Ore., were sheared
recently whose fleeces weighed 195
pounds.
—Rio Pico, the last Mexican Gover-
nor of California, is a pauper at the age
of ninety years. He was once very
wealthy,
—Mayor Lewis Ginter, of Richmond,
Va., is said to be worth quite $7,000-
000, accumulated out of the cigarette
business.
—There are 110 different varieties of
strawberries growing in the experimen-
tal gardens at Kansas Agricultural
college.
—A gold nugget, found in the
Neal placers on Block creek, Idaho, re-
cently, is said to perfectly resemble the
figure of a woman.
--The mouse that gets caught in a
trap can never be so young that its
friends will not say it was old enough to
have known better.
—A German dealer in rare old violins,
who has gone out of business, says that
the man who pays over $10 for any sort
of a violin gets stuck.
—A new scheme among the lumber-
men is to cat down trees by means of a
wire so charged with electricity as to be
maintained at a white heat.
— Washington Dodge, a printer who
helped to get out the first issue of the
New York Tribune fifty years ago, is
still employed on that paper.
—Only a year ago Johnstown, Pa.,
was almost totally destroyed by the
flood, but to-day the property of the
town is assessed at $2,300,000.
—Miss Rebecca Huhle threw some rat
poison in the fire in Greenbrier County
W. Va., and accidentally inhaling the
fumes from the flames, died in great
agony.
—The Postmaster-General does not
approve of the e'ght-hour proposition for
post office clerks, because it will produce
confusion and cost the people $3,300,000
a year.
—Mrs. Borden, of Cawker City, Kan-
sas sold during the month of March 440
dozen eggs. She gathers from 175 to 225
eggs a day, besides taking care of her
family.
—The aphis or plant louse is attack-
ing the Li trees in Southern Mary-
land orchards. Itis a new insect, and
its appearance is attributed to the mild
winter.
—A young giraffe has been born at a
traveling menagorie in Cambridgeshire.
It is a healthy little creature, and is
said to be the first of its kind born in
England.
--The Rev. Dr. Primrose—* When
you were stealing the cake, my young
friend, what thought did you have 7 Lit-
tle Johnnie—“I thought nobody was
looking.” :
—Two Russian climbers of Mount
Ararat found in perfect preservation a
minimum thermometer, which was left
there last year. It registered fifty de-
grees below zero.
—The steam ferryboat Robert Garrett,
plying between Brooklyn and New
York City, carried 5,000 passengers at a
trip and is said to be the largest steam
ferryboat in existence.
—The King of Ashantee has 8,383
wives. They all live on one street in
Coamassie, and when they go out for a
walk in a body,preceded by the eunuchs,
everybody else has to walk in the
gutter.
—Joseph Wetzler, in his paper on the
electric railway in Scribner’s Magazine,
expresses the belief that ten years hence
“there will not be asingle horse railway
in operation, at least in our own coun-
try.”
-—Although sixty-six ‘ years have
elapsed since Lord Byron breathed his
last at Missolonghi, the poet’s favorite
boatman has only just died in a little
cottage within a few hundred yards dis-
tant of the house in which his master
expired.
—He had come home a little late and
she delivered the usual feminine ora-
tion. He turned on his pillow and
muttered as he drowsed off: ‘Matches
made in Heaven seems to me to have
just as much brimstone on ’em as the
other kind.”