NEVER MIND WHAT “THEY” SAY. Dont worry nor fret About what people think Of your ways or your means. Of your food or your drink, If you know you are doing Your best every day, With the right on your side, Never mind what ‘they’’ say. Lay out in the $orning Your plans for each hour, Aud never forget That old time is power. This also remember *Mong truths old and new-— The world is too busy To think much of you. Then garner the minutes That make up the hours, And pluck in your pilgrimage Honor's bright flowers. Should grumblers assure you Your course will not pay, With conscience at rest, Never mind what ‘‘they”’ say. Then let us, forgetting The insensate throng That jostles us daily While marcking along, Press onward and upward, And make no delay— , And theugh people talk, Never mind what “they’’ say. LL NR, ASTREANGE EXPERIENCE. ever in any way been associated with she Grampi hills-—but my mame 1s Oscar Hockersmith, You will at ounce perceive that there 1s zothing in such » pame, but if any man has ever passed throngh an ~xperience similar to the one which I am going to relate, he 3 A | i i “Be quiet, Mary,” said the old gen- tleman. “Don’t become excited, Let us make it pleasant hero for Mr, Hook- ewsmith, and perhaps he will remain several days with us, ‘L'ell us something of yourself, Mr. Hockersmith?"” “f was born in Richmond, Va.,” I replied, ‘and my parents died when I was quite young. [went nto the army After the war I went home, but found that the uncle with whom I had lived was reduced almost to » penniless condition. He did not long survive, and there being nothing in Ricnmond to particularly bind me to the place, 1 wandered away and have never returned. I have come to this State to look after the land interest of ness is completed, I shall go back to | St. Louis,” “Until then,” ssid Mrs, Metford, “you must remain st our house, Al- though I know you are uot = son, yet to see you here revives and illustrates a memory that is so dear—" Here the poor woman completely broke down, | ‘Mary ?” said the old gentleman, ap- prosching her and stroking her hair, | “don’t give way to your feelings. I would not have urged him to come but | : ness, would never forgive me. Don't] give way, now.” She became oalm, but every time she | “Any man, aside from natu. | I thought of the dead son | onoe communicating with me. One day I arrived at Cregmore, a lit- gle old town on the upper Arkansas Biver., After taking breakfast at a | Rotel, the propristor of the house came to me and said that as I had no bag- | e, I would be compelled to pay in rel “Baggage, “Have my please.” “Yom brought no baggage, sir.” “Then has not arrived, It will soon De here r I am sure 1it arrived, | having seen i. delivered to a wagoner at the depot. I have no money with me. 1 hope that you appreciate my position, sir.” He doubtfully shook his head and | walked away. This annoyed me nots little, and I wondered if the fellow who bad my trunk had run away with it, I bad no check, and I knew that I might have trouble in recovering my pro- perty. Just as I turned to go out, an old gentleman whom I suddenly en- countered threw np his hands and ex- claimed: “My God!” “What is the matter?” “Oh, sir, if 1 did not know that my son Norval was dead, I would think in yoti he had returned. He was killed in the army.” He regarded me closely, quieter tone continued: “I have never before seen such a re- semblance, Same eyes, nose, month everything. Will you please do an old | tan a favor?” I replied that I would favor him in any possible way, ‘Then come with me fo my house. I want my wife to see you.” I told him of the perplexing situation | in which I was placed. “Here, Mr. Bunch!” he exclaimed, lling the proprietor, ‘‘Look at this | mn. Doesn't he look exachly like my son Norval?” “Exactly, only he is much older.” “Yes, hut you must remember that it 8 more than twenty years siuce Borval went into the army. Poor boy,” | t@irming to me, “Poor boy, he was | killed at Antietam. I want you to go | home with me. I will stand good for | your bill.” “I feel under many obligations to you, old gentleman, for I am really in an embarrassing position. fellow has stolen my trunk, but if you | indeed!” I trunk sent up, exclaimed. if you it 18 i and in a will go with me to the town officer, I | will aiterwards go with you.” He agreed, and we called upon Town Marshal, who, after listening to | muy statement, looked at me suspiciously | and saad: **Yon didn't come in on the tran.” “But, mir, I know that I did. I de- livered wy trunk to a tall negro who walked with a limp, and who, if I re- | ber correctly, had an impediment F his specch, The trunk-—and [ would w it amoug s thousand-—is a large one, covered with black leather.” “Look here’; said the officer, "you eame up on a boat, for I saw you when Pe got off; besides, you could not ve come by rail, for as there are sev. eral wash-outs above and below here, there has not been a train in for two aan. bis statement was insulting, yet 1 struggled to conceal my resentment, Officials, in small towns, are genarally narrow-minded, dogmatic men, and eared not fo te him farther than to reaffirm that I came in on the morn- ing train. Then, t to the old mm the contemplation of resemblance between son and mysell, that he had paid bat little at- tention to the disparity of statements concerning the manner of my arrival, Me. Metford lived in an sttractive old place, not far from the river, When we entered the gate, a woman came ont on the gallery and in a moment, after ing me, clasped her hands and leaned inst & post, As we approached, she » shriek and sprang toward me, The old gentleman, gently taking hold of her, seid: sg i was erroneously announced, { After dinner, to which I was induced | when a loud knock on the front door, | caused a momentary flutter of excite- | Mr, Metford, who answered the | by the Town Marshal. Approaching me, and placing his ungentle hand on | my shoulder, he said: “I want you.” “Want me?” I asked in surprise. | “Yes, I want you,” | “What right have you to want me, as He took out a paper and handed it to | me, It was a warrant, arresting me | on a charge of wilfully and maliciously | deceiving the people of Cregmore. It | was useless to resist, and although the | old gentleman and his wife protested | The next day I was arranged before | I did so. welling him to 1 told him about losing my trunk, and I ven- tured to take to task a village that would stubbornly shut its eyes and al- low the perpetration of sueh outrages. | The Town Marshal swore that I did not come by rail, that no train had come In + armer Boy" the Captain of which steamer was pres bad no trunk. The looking | and astonished mae with “Just before leaving Little Rock, day before yesterday, this man, who calls himself Hoockersmith, came 10 me and smd that he would like to go up the river as far ss Cregmore; that he | was employed by s St, Louis jand cor- poration, and that as his passage had | somehow failed to arrive, he was with- | out mousy, Of course I could not | allow this story to affect me into the generosity of preseuting the man a ticket, nor to tell him that he might | take his tume in paying me; but 1 did | led to | He | declared that he had no money, but I would Iet him come up as a pay me. [t's only s small amount and I should not have mentioned it but for the fact that the Marshal came down | and asked me about the strange fellow.” “YWhat have vou fo say concerning | those statements?’ asked the Jastice, “‘Nothing, only that they are not true,” I replied. “As 1 tell you, 1 came here by rail, arriving here yesier. day morning.” “But no train arrived yesterday morning.” Then I became indignant, “All right, have 18 your way,” said I. **One man can not stand up agsinst so many, If I deserve punishment, fine me and | will go on the rock pile or the conviot farm and work it out.” “I dou’t exactly see how you have violated the law,” replied the magis- trate, looking st me with almost au ex- pression of pity. ‘Yon have not ob- tained money under false pretenses.” “S80 far as his passage is concerned,” remarked the steamboat man, *‘I am not aaxious. I would not have him punished for thas” The Town Marshal shifted aod twisted himself in hus ohair. I could see that he did not like the change that had come over the court, “Your honor,” said he, ‘this man also made false statements to Mr, Bauch, proprietor of the hotel. He obtained board uuder {alse pretenses.” 1 understood him. He womid urge oharges against me merely to defend his own position, “Judge,” said a voice that I knew, Looking around I saw Mr. Metford Everyone waited for him to & vl met Mr, Bockersmith at the you. On scoount of the won- I believe that a man should be punished for lying just the same as he ought to be for stealing. That's my ticket.” “] am glad to hear you speak so courageously,” rejoined Mr. Metford. "You horrowed ten dollars of me about two months ago, vowing that you would return the money within a week, Yet, notwithstanding the fact that you have had money to bet at poker, you have failed to keep your promise, Yes, it is a very good idea to punish men for lying, and now, since you have re- minded me of your untruthfulness, I think it would be well to act upon your conception of justice. Your honor, make me out a warrant of arrest, please,” i For a while the Marshal knew not | what to say His face grew red, ‘You | all know me,” he replied, *‘I am not a | stranger. I didn't come here and try | to beat any of you. I'll pay the ten | dollars; don't fret about that. I don’t | think it is right to hop on a man that’s | trying to protect the community against fraud, I've got nothing against this fellow and em willing to see him turned loose, i “I am glad to bear you say 80,” re- | ‘You needn't | made out the warrant, Judge, Well, | Mr. Bockersmith,” turning to me, *‘as there is nothing against you here, you will please accompany me home.” When we again went to the honse, Mrs, Metford's lip trembled. They would not hear of my leaving them, so The next morn. ing 1 awoke with a burning fever. Then I went into a state of delirinm and for several weeks knew nothing, When 1 regained consciousness, my mind was so confused that I conld not think, 1 knew that I tatked mcoherently, there- fore I said bat little. One day while | was sitting in my room, a man was shown np by ons of the servants Mr, and Mrs, Metford over to a neighbor's house. “Don’t you know me?” man, “] don't think that I ever saw you before,” 1 said, He looked at me and smiled sadly. “What do you mean?” [ asked, “I mean nothing offensive. You know Abe Chatham?” “Never heard of him." “] am sorry, for I had hoped that you would recoguize me.” “How ean 1 recognize you, sir, when this is the first time we have ever met? He shook his head and muttered something which sounded to me like “poor fellow,” Then he startled me by saying: “1 have been your keeper for years.” “My keeper?” “Yes; I am connected with the Mis- souri Insane Asylum.” “I don't dispute your gaid the position as never seen the institation. 1 am a Bi, Louis land man," “Let me tell you something which has just come to light. You were “Shiloh,”’ “At Antietam. You and a young resem. bled 4 man named Hockersmith fell close to each other, In the report of the killed and wounded, you were put down on the dead lmt and this man Hockersmaith was reported to be wounded, You had been struck by a piece of shell and was, upon recovery of the wound, found to be hopelessly | You went to Rishmond, but your supposed reiatives spurned you, o You aronnd, you went to Missouri and waa placed in an insane asylum, where you remained notil a few weeks ago when you escaped. Your name, 1 have lesrned, is Norval Metford, and I have come to tell your parents, after satisfy- | ing myself that it is you" The room begsn to turn round. The man’s voice sounded way off at a great | distance, He seemed to be shouting, but I eould not eatch his words, Then came in and danced on the back of a chair, A biscksmith led inl horse and | began (0 shoe him. His bellows roared put my fingers in my ears, His fire | began to gradually darken and, with a | a blackness of atmosphere, I groped | around, but could find no opening in | I cried out for a lamp and | his fire to go ont with such a cruel | puft. Orawling atound on my hands | and koees, I found a matoh. I kissed i; I it to my heart, “Thank God!" I eried. ‘Thank God that once | more there shall be light in the world,” Tears streamed from my eyes, I tried to light the match, The tears had dampened it, and with the feeblest little glow, it died away, leaving me in de spair. I heard « voice, low and sweet, “Who are you?” I ssked. A tear fell ou my forehead, and olasping my hands, I turned my face upward. *‘Whose tears are those fall- ing upon me?” I oried. The voice, soft and sweet, sang, but the tears continued w fall. “Oh, can you not give me a lemp?” 1 cried in agony. © touched me, It was a lamp, cold dark, but I hugged it close to me and took care lest my tears should fall upon it, I piaced it on the floor and with my hands clasped around it, I lay down and prayed. A feeble little gleam flick- ered between my fingers, The lamp gre warm, | removed my hands he little blaze flickered, and then, yes, oh, of Heaven, then-—there came a burst of light, a flood of - nificent illumination. I lay on a The sun shone into the room. A face face-—was bowed over room, They say my father laughs Affain, as he did when I was a boy, old people are in a Heaven of happiness, The physician says that a few days from now Ioan resume the business of life, Can any one doubt the existence of a God? Who, but a God could save planned such joy? My mother enters and presses her lips upon my brow. **You haver’t the slightest symptoms of fever, Norval, dear,” she says. Angelic woman! Bhe can mot keep her arms from around my neck when she comes near me. Now she goes singing through the haliway. There stands my father at the gate. Bome- thin he did when I was a boy. nsme 18 Norval. Catching Convicts with Bloodhonads, Every gang of convicts in the State of Texas, inside and outside of the trained hounds, sometimes bloodhounds, but more ordinarily common deer. hounds, for they are hardier and stand the work for which they are trained much better than the blooded stock. It is simply surprising to see how perfect they understand their business, + And these are the brats we read so much about?” I remarked to the Bu- perintendent. “Yes, they are the famous blood- as you will find in Texas, simply deer or fox hounds traiped to hunt men.”’ “Po you keep them shut up all the time,” “Yes, we do that to make them conviets. They would make it for the boys if they had their freedom. “Is there much difliculty in properly training bloodhounds?” “We do not consider it difficult lively but, consider it sport. It will only require a few moments to show how itisdone.”’ A convict or “trusty” was sent down through a large field, with instructions to climb the fence and make a delour through the timber of acouple of miles, coming out in just the opposite direc- tion from where Le started and retum- ing to the farm through a small stream, which he was compelied to wade. It required some twenty minutes for him to make the trip, and when he was seen to emerge from the timber on the other side, and it was certain he could back in safety, the hounds were turned loose. They were shown the trail, and they started over fields, thr gh marsh. ther obstruction In the mean returned, and some S00 get 8 with the speed of deer, time the *‘trusty” had was directed to climb a tree vards distant from where we standing. It did not require a bidding, for the yelp of the hounds ¢ ready be heard in the distance. they appeared at the edge of the timber and sprang the fence } stopping. The trail was not lost for an instant. When the small stream was reached they each crossed it at a bound and in a few moments more Lhey were under the tree, yelping al convict, who sat in its branches looking down over the that this was simply a traimng run and - oe tGihosts of Animals, An spymal which is often said 10 its ghostly appearance is the dog. Thus, a man who hanged him- Bhrewsbury in the form of a large to haunt the road of a dog; and, accord. shape of a faverite dog which has died re- to visit its masier life, vaut,” writes Mes, Latham in her “West Sussex BSuaperstitions,” *‘whom I had desired to go down stairs, and whioh I was afraid would awaken a sleeping invalid, that nothing would stop’ his noise, for she knew quite well by lis manner of barking, that the ghost of another dog was walking about the garden and terrifying him.” cultural peasantry. In Devonshire souls of uunbaptized infants. They ago in the parish of Bt, Mary old man named He was working in the fields when he suddenly heard the ba e shouts and on 0 man aii, “Now, could I be mistaken? y, I heard the very smack of his Wew 0 re A Surasght “The doctor says it is malaria.” | ‘How did you get malaria?” {| “Oh, Aunt Mary, just as if one could DHMegnosis, {the wind, It ecemecth from no one knows where, and bloweth where it lis { teth;’’ and the invalid turned her pret- | ty flushed face on the pillow with a | movement of unmistakable irritation. | ‘Blanche, dear, have the kindness to | Harrington, firmly but kindly, * We | don’t wan’t to make any mistake to start with. You knew 1 am very blunt, and you know that 1 have opin- ions’ “And I know there is nobody in all the world 1tke you when one 18 ill,” the young lady interrupted; and that iswhy for you.” “That is very pleasant and encoura- | ging as far as it goes,” said the lady, “hut I can remain, Blanche, as your [ am ready to unpack and ba obey me. stay, or put on my hat and go Miss Harrington’s gray eyes were | the broad brow and the firm mouth had also much to say of careful study and | strength of character. | “Why, auntie, I should give up en- | tirely if you disappointed me now,” the | invalid replied, with quivering lips. “1 | have just lived on the thought of your | coming.” “Well, will you obey me?”’ “Yes, auntie, and 1 bope you'll re- member that obedience is not my strong | point.”? | **But I have your promise, and that “and now we'll see,” “Nineteen years old,” Miss Harring- | ton said to herself, “and confined to her | bed eight weeks with malaria? Bosh | A bad tongue, feverish more emaciated | her side, intermitting pulse, cold extremeties and no | appetite. And this is malaria ? Bosh again | I wender what the doctor did | before the word ‘malaria’ came 1ulo use, I must ask the physician his reasons for calling this a malarial attack.” Miss Harrington was as good as her word, and forcing her opinions and her doubts quite into the background, start- ed on her tour of investigation with an appearance of kmplicit faith i ity of the wedical man to answer her questions, “Is there anything the matter with the plumbing?’ that lady inquired. “There a sanitary precaution that your brother has not taken,’ the doctor answered. “Do you know of other cases of ma- laria in this locality?” “Oh, yes: malaria 8 by no means a rare product in this neighborhood.” “But it is very high and dry, and con- stantly swept by the sea breezes.” “Yes; very high and dry.” “And very gay?” Aunt Mary sug- gested : headaches, n jan't demurely. : exceptionally gay.” was a comical twinkle in the an’s eye that told of a quickap- ynpanion’s remark. wd $3 a ¥ Ae 1 LR Lg Y of his { iale hours, § imes induce malaria, “Without doubt.” “Well, why don’t you say so, then?” Aunt Mary bad kept her claws | sheathed just about as long as was pos- sible, “A physician cannot safely meddie with the private life of his patients ex- cept in extreme cases,” was the un- ruffled response, *‘If I were to take | the broad platform which you recom- | mend,” the gentleman added, **I should | pot only not do the least bit of good, | but I shouldn’t have a patient left. My reputation would be simply that of But, madam, this is an excellent field for vou, and I am sure we can work to- | gether with the utmost harmony." “Perhaps you are right,” sald Miss Harrington, thoughtfully, *‘but I don’t | exactly see it. Of course, if your pa- | tients are all idiots, that settles it.” | an oid busybody and an old fool. | an idiot,” said the doctor, “and she i= | as fair a representative of the class as I | could name, | After afew days of Aunt Mary’s ef- | ficient nursing ber patient felt able to | together the necessary articles of ward- { robe. Among the first things presented a pair of kid slippers, “What are these?" Miss Harrington asked. “Why, they are the newest style of | slippers, auntie,” sald her niece, “Paper soles, and three-inch heels tapered down to a cherry pit in the mid- dle of the foot. 1 presume you wear these all the time you are in the house?’ “Why, of course, auntie,” “in the dead of winter as well a8 in the dog-days?"’ The young lady laughed merrily at her companion’s old fogyism. “‘Cer- tainly, just see how preity they look with the silk stocking.” “How many corns have you, Blanche?” “Oh, only two or three little bits of ones. 1 send for a chiropodist once in a while and then I’m all right for ever so long.”’ A girl of nineteen with her feet iu a chiropodist’s hands!” sald auntie, with wry face, “That's isn't anything. Why, al most all the girls." **Not the slightest doubt of it,"’ the lady interrupted, ‘‘You have nothing else, 1 suppose, to put on your feet but these things?" “No, suntie, and 1 wouldn't wear i go out 1m the carriage, and there are lots of warm robes.” “It is about as I supposed,” Miss Harrington remarked, sadly. “Your breakdown is due to perfectly plain and natural causes, There is nothing in the jeast mysterious about it. You have weakened your spine and consequently your whole worn, By a series of exposures you an extent that reaction was Impossible irritating causes, How much do “Nineteen inches, auntie,” the young they are a whole inch larger than most “What is your size? Iere is a tape- Twenty- vise JH Think of it! A twenty fourinch We will now clear the heart and of malaria, Your irregular pulse, the cutting pain in your sids, your uneven and mest in. ectly to tight lacing, Now I have this to say, my child, I shall not permit you to wear one of these articles as long as you are under my care. If you will accept a pair of my quilted slippers, and allow me to wrap you in blankets till you havesome clothes suitable for a convalescent to right. If not, you must find some one else to take care of you, My time is altogether too precious to throw This may seem very cruel, Blanche, but I really think it would be far better for you to die now than to be nursed back to the old shameful condi- tions, There is nothing before you but “But how can I wear horrid old shoes and old scratchy flannels, and’ have a waist like a washer-woman's?* ir] inquired, between laughing and crying. “You haven’ said anything about goloshes and leggins jet, but perhaps you'd like to have me wear those? “Shall I get the blankets and my quilted slippers, Blanche?” Aunt Mary inquired, “Yes: bring the gunboats and the flannels,” her companion replied. “And if you can find a few hen’s feathers to stick in my hair the resemblance to a Sioux squaw will be still more striking.” After this Miss Blanche had some lessons in physiology and hygiene, and very interesting and profitable topics they proved to be. She learned the rea~ sons of things, and had sense enough to accept and utilize them. Ap ricexing Pearls. Soon after the elevation of Genersd Gonzales to the Presidency of Mexioe, he exhibited a partiality for the cres- tion and maintenance of monopolies be fore whieh the monopolies granted by James I of Eogland to Sir Giles Mom- pesson and others might well pale their ineffectual fires. The President was applied to, and his favorable consider- ation was secured and given fo a plan by which, on February 4, 1584, a cone cession, or rather five concessions, were granted to five geuliemen, and upon the terms which will be stated further on, For the purposes of fishing the Mexioan jaws have divide the waters of the gulf of California from Cape Si Luces to the mouth of the Rio Colorado and from the easterp coast of Lower Cali. fornia to the westerly shore of the mainland, nte five zones. The conoas- sions give these gentlemen, their asso- cistes and assigns, the exclusive right all shell fishermen in their respective zones for the period of sixteen years, paying therefore a rqy- the government, smounting alto- The bolders of germs of a weaith and power which may possibly in time rival the glories of the of the East India Company. Senor Hi- formed under the laws of California, with a capital of $500,000. As an evi dence of the enormous profits to be made by this gigantic scheme it may pe mentioned that for the past two years the yield of the fisheries come ducted with four schooners and t boats, has been from $200,000 to §250,- 000 in pearls and about 900 tons of shell worth from £80 to £70—say £65 a ton, or abont $202 500, making a gross yield of $542,000 per snnum. The two men to work the air-pumps, one ad the life-line and two si the oars. The vessel having anchored om favorable grounds, the boats put off from the ship's side early in the diver is and or £e remains on £ i iT : ol E i : i fl ; 2 £ : ? BEE ! : i i : I :
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