Just Enough. The man who hopes for little In this great world of strife Will find success awaiting Ere the culminate of life; ® hile he who hopes to grasp the stars From out their legions bright Will falter by the wayside With havens justin sight. The child that learns to babble Close at the mother’s kuee May have the germ, ambition, In babe's expectancy; To-morrow, when the sun of life Has settled o'er the land, A sod of green may cover o'er The chill and nervous hand. rear, It’s much that makes the little, Or little makes the much, Depending all entirely pon the might of touch— Upon the touch of greed or trust, Oh Hopel why wiil you dia When first the beacon flashes o'er The firmanent of sky? Oh heart of great endeavor! You'll never learn the worth That's g¢ red witlnn the human breast As smiles and tears In birth, Why will you pever count the cost Of jewels tar anay, And never sop 10 gather up : The pearls wick round you lay ? misty began to peep out one by one, as Paul Everson and May Brooks walked slow- They had grown up together from early childhood, and it had been a favorite scheme of their elders to unite the fami- fies and property through thése young people, Like wise old generals, though, as they were, not a whisper of this was breathed to the young people, the plot- ters knowing full well that with the natural depravity of the human race, they would no sooner learn what was expected of them than they would do all in their power to thwart the ar- ment. So they had been permit- ted to have their owm way, the result being that six months before my story opens, Paul had one evening slipped a heavy ring on May’s finger, and leading her to their parents, had asked a bless- ing on the union. fe was given with a heartiness that surprised and delighted the young cou- ple, who had supposed their relatives to be deaf and blind to all that was trans- piring. Then had followed delightful days, now and then shadowed by small clouds of jealousy, which melted away again in the sunshine of trne love. Paul was unreasonably jealous. Why was May always so gracious to the other fellows? Had not she won him? What did she need of others, especially that Tom Elton? They were cousins, he knew, but that was no reason why they should be on such affectionate terms. to himself; even corresponding when Tom was called away for a day or so, He did not like 1t, but he did not ven- ture to tell May of his disapproval. She would only laugh and call him jealous, while he was not jealous, only grieved at her lack of affection for him. So he bore it by himself, never ex- plaining the coldness he could not als ways hide as he thought of Tom. And May wondered and questioned, endured and loved. The wedding was to have teken place at Christmas, & year from the bet thal, but in June an uncle of Pauls’ died in Paris and bequeathed him his fortune— aot a large one, by any means—but it ately circumstanced lovers. Paul to go there and remain until all was arranged. This was his last evening at home, He did not know when he should re- turn. He could not under a year, at least, perhaps not for two. He urged May to hasten her arrangements and accompany him, but this she refused to 40. She could not get ready in so short a time, and mamma seemed so feeble after her fever. On the whole she thought it best to pospone their wed- ding until his return. Paul pleaded then seolded, and finally submitted with 3 very ill grace indeed. “May dear,” be said, as they slowly walked together under the large maple ‘rees, ‘‘dear one, you will write often, will you not ?”? **Yes, every day. Oh, dear; 1 wish jour uncle had willed his fortune to wme one elsel It takes you far away rom me, and then people are so silly, you know; they may say that I-—mar- 4ed vou for your money,” “Who 18 silly now?” laughed Paul, irawing her eloser to him and imprint ing a kiss on the rosy lips so temptingly upraised, ‘*As if he cared for people! Beside my fortune 1s too small to be very enticing. But I wish this legacy was drowned in the depths of the Dead Sea. I cannot bear to leave you, Come with me, May. It is not too late, even aow, Oh, come, please come,” he ur- ged fondly. “I cannot, Paul. My duty lies bere at home with mamma,’ “And Tom. I comprehend at last.” Paul's jealousy had found a voice, “What de you mean?” demanded May, drawing away from him, and gaz- ing at him in astonishment and dis pleasure, “Mean!” retorted Paul, wrathfully, “Don’t you drive with him, row with him, write to him, have him hanging about you half the time, all the while jo are to me? Do you Suppous like that? Now you refuse to go w Jon think you cannot see him,'’ he said, ha temper fairly running away with m. May turned very white, She slowly drew off her ring, and as he finished speaking she sald quietly, “If that is your opinion of me, it is as well that we * and she handed him the ring. stairs to her own room, when her mother called her from the veranda, ‘‘May, is that you? Please bathe my head, dear; it aches dreadfully.” So poor May was obliged to sit down and listen to her mother’s praises of Paul and regrets for his necessary trip, until she seemed as if she could go quite wild, Oh, the torture of those first few days, with everybody asking questions as to the why and wherefore of the quarrel! Aunt Elton was the most trou- biesome of all. She was a tall, stout woman about fifty-five years of age, and possessed of a very sharp tongue, “What is this I hear?” she sald, valking into the parlor the next even- ing, tossing her shawl in one chair, her gloves in another, and untying her bon- net strings, infallible signs of a wordy battle. *‘Paul Eversen has jilted you, has he? No more than I expected. Ie is too proud and aristocratic to marry in this little place, He will bring & noble, titled wife home with him, Ob. I tell you those Everson’s are proud! Dreadfully high-tempered folks too. A nice life you would lead with them! You may be thankful you aie rid of them. He would not quarrel with you, just as he is going away, if he loved you. Mark my words, he will bring home a wife. 1 wouldn't ery away all my | beauty for him!” Mrs. Elton glanced contemptuously | at May’s pale face und red eyelids, But {| May would hear no more. | “Aunt Harriet, I wou'd thank you to i let my affairs alone. You are always interfering,” she said, chokingly, and fled from the room, “Such a temper!” remarked Aunt | Harriet, severely, ‘‘Lucy I wonder at you allowing such behavior to pass un- rebuked,” “You tried her too far, Harriet, Re- member how nervous she is,” sald gen- tle Mrs, Brooks, mildly. “Oh, what did I say? sobbed May, as she locked herself nt her recom and laid her throbbing head on the pillows, “I am always impertinent to Aunt Har- riet, and it grieves mamma, Bat she is so disagreeable, and is constantly meddling. I hate meddlers!” But her aunt talked and the gossips tolked; and May, being a woman, was forced to stay quietly at home in the very midst of the gossip, and entertain curious guests, conscious of their close scrutiny, to see if *‘she took it much to heart.” Ah, how hard it was! Where- as Paul was far from all annoying ques- tions, so busily engaged with his trou- blesome estate as to have scarcely a thought beside. Memories of May would float through his mind occasionally, but would soon vanish in the press of bussness, He had not torgotten. He felt the separation as bitterly as May; but a man cannot spare the time for sentiment or vain re- grets. The busy world comes In be- tween, A year passed. Paul was still in Paris, A long trial, involving the es- tate, was stretching Its weary way through the courts. Until that was ended he must stay, Another year rolled by, and Tom was married to a favorites friend of May's, sweet Nellie Wingate. May was their dress she wore. She was fragile as a lily now, The old bloom was gone, In its place was a new sweetness, rays of God’s sunlight tllumining her face as only those are illumined who win the crown of light through suffering. And May had borne much sorrow | since the i Her mother had faded almost impercep- t i i : | AWAY, { night upon them at bedtime one even- | and the next morning they found her with the same sweet smile upon her lips; again, She was *‘asieep in Jesus” Before May fully realized her loss her father was stricken with a low fever, and he too passed away. May was left entirely alone, with just enough money to support her. She lived quietly at the old home, her first appearance in society after the death of her father being at Tom’s wedding. She had laid aside her mourning for that evening, appearing in white withoutornaments, Her dark brown hair, coiled low on her neck, waved loosely over the forehead; the large blue eyes were dark with excite- Ly. Tom and Nellie were going to Eu- rope on their wedding trip, and urged May to accompany them in the hope of restoring some of her lost brightness, May at last consented, a wild hope of seeing Paul urging her to it. Ste had heard nothing from him since their parting two years and a half ago. Not a word of sympathy or condolence with her great sorrow, and the silence hurt her cruelly. The first few weeks of their foreign tour were spent in London, The time passed slowly to May. She cared noth- ing for the sight-seeing, for their new English friends, or for anything in Great Britain, Her thoughts were in Paris, To the lovers the days flew by on swiftest wings. There is really “nothing half so sweet in life as love's young dream, Sometimes it proves to be a nightmare, however. May felt as if her love-dream had bad a very bitter awakening, Try as she would she could not forget Paul, and the memory was very sad, recalling those old days, as it did, with father and mother to love and shield her. Should she see Paul, and bow would ha look? What would he have to say? Did he love her still? Over and over she asked these ques- tions, Would Tom and Nellie never be rea ously ill, The best doctors were sum- moned, and Tom and Nellie watehed over her faithfully without a thought of self. Day after day she lay in a heavy stupor, unconscious of the loving care bestowed upon her, but the tenth day a change came, and she talked wildly of Paul, “0 Panl, Paull’? she moaned, to mel” This was her constant ery, with fre- quent allusions to Tom, which her watchers could not understand, “Ske means Paul Everson,” whis- pered Nellie, Find him, Tom, if he is anywhere on the face of the earth. She will die unless she sees him, Her heart is breaking and I never knew it. I thought she had ceased to cure for him, Search everywhere for him, Begin at once,” And Tom did search, He employed detectives, addressed letters to his law- yer, advertised in Paris, London and New York papers, walked up and down the streets in hope of a chance meeting, in short, he did all he could; but no Paul appeared. The Time passed. May was gradually failing. She was con- scious now, but never talked much; only lay all day long with her face turned toward the door as if expecting sS0Ie one, Nellie sat alone with May, one night. Tom was closeted with a detective in another room. They thought they had a clue at last; the man employed spoke with confidence for the (irst time, In the sick room all was still. May's breathing was very faint, Her eyes were closed; there was a deeper pallor on her cheek. Nellie eried softly as she gently forced the cordial between the pale lips, “She cannot live through the night,” she said sadly, “Oh, why does not Paul come? Poor May! What a sad life hers has been since they parted! She will be at rest soon, but oh, how I shall miss her! Oh, May, May!” And Nallie buried “Come Out on the street the noise of every day life sounded loud and clear, It was June now. The streets were crowded ly whistled **La Fille du Regiment” as it passed under the window. Nellie shivered and closed the window, A faint rap on the door, Nellie did not hear it. She was gazing on the street with its bright lights, gay crowds and rich carriages. to the bed. May’s were closed, but she opened them as she felt a slight touch on her hand. Paul was kneeling beside was against hers, his eyes gazing loving- ly into hers, May smiled faintly, and closed her Nellie slipped out without a word. “Oh, Tom,” she cried, ‘‘Paul has come, and May will live, I know she willl You should have seen her face, It shone like an angel's!” and regard. head on Tom's shoulder and sobbed, Late in the night while May was explained his delay in coming. He bad gone home in October, but had been detained in New York November, | turn found May was traveling in Eg. rope, i tour. He had pot learned of his mis. | take until he read Tom's advertisment in an old New York Tribune, He had started at once for Paris, traveling night and day. “Thank God you were in time!” | Tom fervently. Paul watched untiringly at May's { bedside, paying no attention to their : sad watched, “May Is mine now, her,” he always answered, Slowly the shattered system recovered strength. The long convalescence was delightful with Paul to talk to ber, read, follow every whim of hers. In July they left the hot sultry city and went to the mountains of Switzerland, and revelled in the pure fresh alr; and there in September, in a quaint little Swiss church, they were married one morning, with the warm sun shining on their heads in benediction, Aunt Elton's prophecy proved true. Paul brought his wife from Europe. ——— They Found the Wil In the vear 1803 theredied at Bath, England, a lady who had amassed con- siderable money. On the inside of her thus-—-1 have made a will; if you would berich find it. There was something charming in this idea. The old lady must have been of a humorous turn of mind. No doubt she often pictured to herself her young and aged relations, male and female alike, in pursuit of this phantom fortune. Carpets would be rip- ped up, the contents of cushions and beds scatiered about the floor, the wall paper torn down, the garden dug up, and, in fact, every thing turmed topsy- turvy., The story goes that the search went on night and day for a week, each party being anxious, naturally enough, to find the will, when just as the search was about to be given up in disgust the document was found tightly sewn inside the skin of the lady's wig. Then the family gathered together to hear it read. It consisted of one clause, and that was to the effect “*that the finder of this will in consideration of his labor and good luck in finding it, shall have the sum of one penny a day for his natural life, the rest of my property to go to charities pamed below,” Here ths story ends, Nothing is sald about the feelings of the Wit aod 8 which is dis ting, for as a scope for the of the novelist as there is for the A GOOD STORY, A Woman's Fight With the Apaches, There will never be any other feeling but that of mu-der in the heart of a Chiricahua Apache. Ie hates every to make war upon him. No white man has ever fallen into his clutches and es- caped the torture, Ordinary tortures are tame to the Apache, He invents new ones, On his own agency, and in time of profound peace, the Apa- che is a devil lying in wait for white victims, Two weeks before it was known that Geronimo had left the San Carlos Reser- vation a settler on the Upper Gila named Bellair, whose former home was in Wis- consin, sat smoking his pipe after din- ner. On his knee he had his daughter, a child five years old, and the wife was busy clearing the table. Five Indians suddenly entered the house by the back door. Red men had often visited the cabin and been hospitably entertained, but the moment the five stepped in Bel- lair realized that they were bent on mis chief, As hestarted to his feet an In- dian sprang forward and struck at him with a rifle. The blow fell upon the child’s head and crushed it like paper. Bellair seized the gun, wrested away, and set upon the five theur out, Two of them had seized the wife and were trying to pull her out doors, The husband laid about him with such desperation that the Indians were seized with a momentary panic, and re- treated, He turned the gun and shot one of them dead at the door, and the the other four ran about eighty rods to cover, It was plain epough that it was a raiding party from the reservation af- ter scalps and plunder, About fifteen rods from the house, on it iv structed an outdoor cellar, been accomplished by d hill for several feet and front with a double row of planks, There igging had been left for ventilation, instantly decided to occupy the cellar and make the best defense possible. While the wife was collecting a few ar- ticles, he carried the dead body of his child to the place, teturning, he got she took a jug of water and all the rea- dy-cooked food In the house, no suspicions that the house was being | trip to secure a sum of money he had in He ran about half the distance to the heart and fell dead | dashed forward to scalp him, but the with a shot from the revol- | ver, and the gang sought cover. Had exhibited the faintest sign of life the wife would have chanced all to bring him in. but as she fully realized that he Fortunately for her the door swung in- ward. The cellar had not been put , and she had plenty of room to mave about, to {ine of the planks left in. and & 3 gniw Kifer Sa she was i i ia ina situation to stan from half the band, As soon as the woman had escaped rexiskins turmed house, They did { not dare set it fire, for fear the smoke might bring help, but every article which thev covets] was carried out, and they then took axesand demolished ev- ee the floor. This work occupied them for about an hour, after which they turned their attention to the woman. A dead child in the darkness with her, a dead husband in the sunlight under her eves, | the savages reasoned that she m be | overcome by her emotions, They at- | tempted to approach her under cover of a flag of truce, but a shot proved that 4 uss | could force an entrance by the front. { The Apaches were silent for a time, | selves to her fire, After a quarter of an | hour she heard them digging in the | earth above her head, There was a depth sheltered while they worked, They dug { for awhile and then abandoned the at- tempt, having, as was afterward ascer- tained broken the spade and encountered | many rocks, The next move was one which prom. | ised to prove fatal to the brave woman, i | The straw from the beds was brought | and flung down in front of the cellar | and set fire to. The planks were still | green and the wet earth had prevented any drying out. ‘While the straw made a great blaze and the flames roared and crackled as if eating every thing before them, the planks refused to burn and the fire soon died out, During the next half hour every thing was 80 quiet that the woman began to believe the Apaches had made off, It was just what they had planned for her to believe, The trio stood on top of the cellar, hoping she would open the door, As the sun got further to the west it cast their shadows on the grond, and she saw them from the loop holes, and knew the stratagem they were resorting to. It appeared that the Indians were anxious to get away before night, but were doubly anxious to dispatch the wo- man so that nobody would be left to identify them. All violent measures having failed, they now began to coax She was a much brave £ £ g i g § A i i the warrior died two weeks later, The three could face her no longer. With yells of dismay they rushed away to the thicket where their ponies were cone cealed, and no time was lost in leaving the neighbordood, At sunrise next morning as ranchmen passed that way, they found the bodies of the dead side by side on the grass, Seated beside them clasping their dead hands, was a stony faced woman, whose eyes looked into the far away, and whose lips none could unseal, She had better been dead with them, The light of rea- son had gone forever. ~ Ee A SALT MINE IN LOUISIANA, A Saline Revelation on Petit Anse Isl. and-Purity, 595.47 Per Cent. Arrived at new Iberia the engine was detatched, and a local salt mine locomo- tive backed the special nine miles up a heavy grade to the salt wine on Petit Anse island. If salt ay be called a min- eral, this is a mineral disovery of little less importance than the bonanza silver mines of Nevada, Few people realize that at this isolated point ii the Union is a mine of salt superior in purity, rich. ness and extent to anything yet found in the earth’s crust, None of the party was prepared for such a saline revelation. The mine, which isbut of all the region round, Though Petit member the water boundary on one side at least. A little bayou about as big as an irregular ditch in California is the The salt de- and it is be- Long ante- 145 scores, erty of the Averys, They are people of least two centuries of ancestry. Island has about 3,000 acres, and up to the time of the war was a vast plantation, In 1862 a man diggh near the sum- mit of the topographical cone struck into a solid rock of salt, It was ex. ig a in the Confederacy the discovery caused The government benefit of the Confederate armies, Far- Federal operations in the country be- tween the mine and Confederate strong- remained in abeyance for ten years or About ten years ago the deposit at- jon of capitalists, and formed in New York it. A contract a Company was and Galveston to work which the latter was to receive a royalty, Machinery was put in, a shaft sunk, and sait The mine COR TDIne, from this remarkable deposit, is worked like an anthracite The present working shaft is down nine- On this level huge cham- bers have been excavated, with pillars left standing to support the roof. The rock salt § awn out of the drifts and i dynamite, surface, run into rock into grinding mills, loaded Into 1ifted t Crushers a1 CATS, where it 3 ds of a pork packery to alt, The natural I ze<1 saline, car- nt of t. The pro- barrels and sh sd ipped all , So great is the yield xhaustible the deposit, appar. the railroad company has oad nine miles to the mine, and : twenty freight cars were ng loaded on the day of our visit, The whole party visited the mine, be- lowered by thecage-load to the work- jevel. It was a beautiful sight, this crystal cavern. Car after car came out loaded with the pure, white substance, and the blasts that wereshot off in the various chambers for the entertainment of the visitors reverberated and shook the earth, From the working level a eve showing that the deposit is practically company that works it, years the Averys have received a rof- alty of $5,000 a month, and on the first of this monthwas increased on a new contract to $7,000 a month. Freaks of Jurors. There are some queer phases of trial In Ohio some years ago a wa- Three men were see riding in it on the night it was taken, The three men were indicted, All con- ceded the wagon had been stolen, even the prisoners indicted. The three men demanded separate trials and to differ. ent juries. One after the other was ac- quited, In another and more recent casea servant girl left the family in their absence, On their return articles of clothing, jewelry, diamonds, ete., to the value of $1,000, were missing. The girl was found by a constable at a hotel table in a neighboring town wearing the clothing and jewelry of her for- mer mistress, She was tried for steal- ing the goods and acquitted on the ground that she did not steal them, but only received stolen property, and could not be held on that indictment. The next termshe was tried for receiving stolen goods and acquitted because she did not know they werestolen. A lover made her a t of them in the night on the sidewalk, Poor, She thought that an impecunious lover came honestly by silk a watch studded with dia- Supdrods of Yoliars w worth of too, the identical articles had seen . man gon was stolen, HS ———— OLD-TIME SOUTHERN DUELS, A Few Newly Dressed wwold-up Facts About the Noted Duelist, Colonel MoeClang of Mississippi. On one occasion McClung had an als tercation with a young attorney who an. ticipating the result, passed a flagrant insult on him, This forced MeClung to send the challenge, a step that he was always anxious should be taken by the other party. His caution was justified in this case, for his antagonist accepted the challenge and named a certain room in which the duel was to be fought, The terms were these Both were to stand on opposite sides of 4 narrow ta- ble, take deliberate air, and at a con- certed signal, fire Tis was certain death to both, and the young lawyer had vowed that, since Mr. McClung was go- ing to kill him, he was determined tc carry McClung along with him, Me- Clungz declined the terms, The duel was never fought, and McClung eon sented cheerfully to a reconciliation, McClung was a native of Virginia, hav. ing been born in Fauquier eounty, whence his parents moved to Kentucky during his boyhood, lis mother was | a sister to John Marshall, chief justice | of the United States, He was originally i intended for the navy, and served sev. feral years on board, This first duel was | fought with a brother midshipman og the of Southern America, His second was with an own cousin, named I believe, John Marshall, After leav- ing the navy McClung went to Missis sippi, where his reputation as a duelist preceded him Hos first entrance on the | stage of honor in that state Was as sec {ond to Foote in his second duel with | Prentiss, Things prospered. Not only { was Foote shot down, but McClung be- | came entangled in hostile relations with Ia Mr. or Gen. Allen, with whom he sub. sequently “had a meeting.’ After { many interesting preliminaries McClung | got to the point of calling Allen a d-— coward. This, of course, meant a duel, {and as Gen, Forrest said about war, a | duel meant fight and fight meant to kill, MeClungz was living at Jackson at the | toe of the trouble, His d— coward | epithet was borne to Allen, who decided | to go to Jackson and kill the author, | On his way to Jackson Allen passed | through Clinton, where Foote was and { told Foote of his mission. As soon af | he was out of sight Foote mounted a horse, and pushing across the country, | arrived in time to CAOASL put McClung on his guard, The two enemies met, thor oughly armed; for some reason, how. | ever, they failed to commence firing, but | separated, A duel was preferred to a | street fight. They met on the banks of | Pear] river at sunset that evening, both | armed with six pistols, one chamber | each. An immense throng of people were present to see the sport. The prin- | cipals were placed sixty yards apart. Al | the word they were to advance and fire | at will. Allen was excited, and his an- | ger had complete control of hum. Me- | Clung on the contrary, was cool and ap- parently tranquil. He worea half-puz- | led expression on his face, as if he were trying to solve a vexed question. He | was, in reality, debating at what dis tance his ball could kill Allen. He had no fears of missing him. At the word | Allen advanced rapidly, exclaiming with | much passion, “Now we shall see whe | isthe d— coward,” McClung, who had | taken a few steps, upon seeing his an tagonist advance so rapidly, haited, took deliberate aim, replying to Allen’s re. | mark a8 be did so: “Yes, we shall see, ™ | As the words left his mouth he fired, | His ball struck Allen, who was thirty paces distant in the mouth. Allen died in a few hours. McClung manifested | every sign of satisfaction over the result, When he shot Menifee, a brother of the noted congressman, he peered through the smoke (the duel had been fought with rifles), and when he saw Menifes on the ground, McClung seized his rifle hugged it to his breast, patted it al | called it his darling, Neither Jackson | nor Burr betrayed any regrets over the | man each had killed. In his old age | Jackson showed a friend the pistol he had | used, ““This is the pistel with which 1 | shot Mr. Dickinson,” he sald, Burr oftex | spoke of “my friend, Mr. Hamilton, { whom I shot.” DBnt Mr, McClung fie | quently showed a brutal satisfaction iu | recalling the fatal termination to the | duels in which he liad been engaged, | Asa lawyer he was never successful, His taste turned in the direction of po. lite literature, and be is said to have been an exceedingly polished writer, He established a newspaper at Jackson which attracted attention, and from which, if tradition can be trusted, Pre. tiss culled some of his best ideas and most beautiful thoughts, It is even said that McClung took Prentiss to task for using his writ without giving him credit, and that Prentiss made an artful and insinuating defense that cap- tured McClung’s fancy and friendship. Tradition sometimes tells egregious les, Ee Tillable Lakes. — Prof. Schweble has drawn the atten tion of the Berlin Physical Society to tho Interesting phenomena observed: in the gypsum of the Southern Hartz, vig: the sinking of rivers, often accom- panied by loud uproar, and the occur- rence of Intermittent lakes, The so- called “peasant’s ditch,” near Rosslau, was, in the last century, as the old con- tracts between the two neighboring : sometimes dry . tilled by the other village. Several channels at the bottom of the lake lead
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers