hi!
B. F. SCHWEIER,
THE COSSTITTrnOB THE TnnON AID THE EJTFORGEMEUT OP THE LA.W8.
Ktlitor and Pmpriftor.
VOL. XXXII.
MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY, PENNA., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 21, 1878.
NO. 34.
50B0DY BUT ML
I'm Terr happy where I am
Far across tbe say,
I'm verr happy far from home
la North Amerikay.
It's otly in the night, when I 'at
In sleeping by my side,
I lie awake aud do one know
Tbe big tears that I've cried.
For a little voice still calls me back
To my far-far countrie.
And Dobo ly can bear it spake.
Oh. nobody but me.
There is a little spot of ground
Behind the chapel wall ;
It's nothing but a tiny mound.
Without a stone at alL
It rises to my heart just now.
It makes a dawuy Lili
It's from below tbe Toice comes out,
I cannot kape it still.
Oh. litt e voice, ye call me back
To my far, far couutrie.
But nobody can bear yon spake, -
Oh, nobody but me.
The Fatal Card.
smie years ago the Mississippi River
u noted lor its floating palaces," a
lie large steamers plying between Xew
Orleans an J the portsabove were called.
Now the raii wars .have driven nearly
all the line boats off the river, and left
the lield to the freight boats, whose
accommodations for passengers are by
uo means palatial. The former class of
teamer were 111 many respects delight
ful, but they never ceased to be subjects
f dread to timid people, lor if the racing
which was reduced to a system, did not
result In the loss of the boat, there was
sure to be olc or more encounters be
tween the lawless portion of the trave
lers, in which pistol-bullets would fly
rather too thick for the comfort of
steady-going people. The cause of such
disturbances was generally a quarrel
over the glambling-table. The regula
tion of the boat usually required that
all such amusements should be conduc
ed in a saloon providided for that pur
pose in the "Texas, or ollicers cabin,"
situated on the hurricane deck; but the
sjioriing gentry were by no iiieanscare-
1 11 1 to obey this rule, and the gaming
was most coiumouly carried on in the
diiiing-lables in the main saloon of the
steamer, to the great anuoyance of two-
thirds of those on ttoard.
Many professional gamblers used ot
make these boats their home, traveling
back and forth with them, and fleecing
all who were verdant or foolish enough
to fall into their clutches. So well, in
deed, was this system managed, that the
various members of the '"craft" seemed
to have their different steamers marked
out tor them by common consent, so that
no one would trespass upon the domain
of theother. Of course, these men were
warm friends of the ofiicers of the boat,
who were either too sincere in their
friendship to put a stop to the practice,
or too much afraid of the gamblers to
care to provoke a quarrel with them.
for in those days it was a common affair
for such men to resent any fancied
affront with a pistol-shot.
tne of the most remarkable men of
their class was named lauiel Sturdivant
a Frenchman, the son of a broken-down
eion of nobility, who had settled in Xew
Orleans before the transfer of Louisiana
to the I'nited .States. Sturdivant had
been raised as a 'gentleman" bv his
aristocratic father, but upon coming of
age, and finding his fortunes very bad,
had taken to ca'ds as a means of better
ing them. His success in this field was
so great that he was induced to continue
in it, and he was one of the most notor
ious gamblers between St. Louis and
Xew Orleans. He was forty-five years
old, but hid keut himself so well that
he seemed much younger. He was a
man of fine personal appearance and
great physical strength, He w as also
noted for his personal courage. As a
gambler he was most expert and suc
cessful. There were dark stories of deeds
which he had committed w hile under
the Influence of play and liquor, and it
was said by some that he had killed half
a dozen men In his lifetime. Yet no
one cared to state these stories openly,
for no one cared to bring upon himself
the anger of such a man. There were
few who knew him who really cared to
play against him, but feared a refusal
to do so might involve them in a quar
rel with him, and rarely declined his
Invitations.
About fifteen years ago, the time of
which I write, he had attached himself
to one of themagnificent steamers plying
between Xew Orleans aud Vicksburg,
and had publicly announced his deter
mination to shoot any man who attempt
ed to encroach upou his scene of opera-1
tions. Of course this left him in undis
puted possession of the field, and he
reajKHl a golden harvest from it during
the one brief year that he conducted his
ieratious there.
It was my lot at that time to be com
pelled to make frequent trips between
Xew Oiieaus and Vicksburg, being
heavily engaged in cotton speculations.
I preferred the steamer of which Sturdi
vant, had taken possession, inasmuch as
it was not only the most comfortable,
but also the swiftest, and time was of
iuilortance to me. It was known that I
carried large sums of money with me,
and I wasalwaysappreheusivelestStur
divant should ask me to play. 1 had
fully made up my mind to refuse him, !
and if he attempted to draw me into a
quarrel to shoot li'im w ithout mercy, as
I knew that the only chance for my life
lay in getting the advantage of him.
Strange to say, he did not make any
such proposition to me, and I gave him
no chance to do so.
One night we had started out from
Vicksburg. and were heading merriiy
down the river, when Sturdivant came
up to the group which had gathered
around the stove. He had been drink
ing, and was smoking a fine cigar as he
approached. All made way for him.
"Well, gentlemen," he said, in an
unsteady tone, "you seem to be terrible
dull. Who w auu to play for $20 ante,
rrt .
mere was no reply. All nresent
seemed to know the man, and no one
cared to volunteer to place himself in
his clutches. " ,
impn:" he exclaimed with an ex
pression of contempt, "afraid to try your
luck against Ian Sturdivant, eh? Or
maybe you want a little coaxing. Some
of you must play with me. I can't stand
such treatment. Come, let's see w ho It
will be.
He glanced around the crowd as if to
select his victim. For the first time 1
uoticed the gaze of one of the group
fixed steadily upon him. He was a
stranger to me, aud was dressed in a
plain suit of homespun, and his face
was partially concealed by a w ide
brimmed rombrero which was drawn
over it. ne wasa small, but powei fully
made man, and in the decided expres
sion of his well-shaped band I read an
unusual firmness and intensiiy of pur
pose. "Are you Daniel Sturdivant, the eam-
J bier r" he asked in a calm tone, without
rising.
Sturdivant flushed darkly and
the stranger a fierce glance.
gave
"some persons call me so, behind my
back," he said insolently; "but no one
would dare apply that term to me before
my face."
"Xevertheless," said the stranger. "I
want an answer yes or no."
eu men. saw tne gammer an
grily, "lam. What of it?'
'Simply this," replied the stranger,
'I have heard it said that you claim to
be the best card player in the South west
I have come twohundred miles to prove
you a liar."
Sturdivant strode forward a step or
two and thrust his haud into his breast
as if to grasp a weapon.
"Stop," said the stranger, "if you
shoot me, you will simply nrove your
self afraid of me. Take your seat at the
table, and I will make my word good
There was something in the calm,
stern manner of the stranger that seems
ed to render the gambler powerless. He
hesitated for a moment, and then said,
bullyingly :
"I never play with a man whose face
1 cannot see."
"Xever mind my face," said the
stranger. "If you are not afraid of
losing you shall see it when I am done
with you."
"ICut how do I know you have money
enough for such sport ?" persisted Stur
divant. "You look seedy enough, my
fine fellow."
"There," said the stranger, produc
ing a large pocket book "I have $10,-
000 there; if vou can wiu it you shall
do so."
With an oath, Sturdivant piaced him
self at the table and bade his challenger
do likewise- Those of us who had list
ened to this singular dialogue, nowgath
ered around the table, expecting to see
a scene of more than usual interest
The stranger had not yet raised his hat-
brim, and none cf us had seen his face,
but we all felt, from his general air and
manner, that Daniel Sturdivant had at
last met his match. It did not take long
to show that the stranger was an unusu
ally good player. For an hour or more
the playing went on in silence. The
stakes were high, and the contest mark
ed with rare skill. Sturdivant exerted
himself as he had never done before,
but in spite of his efforts, he lost steadi
ly. By the expiration of the time indi
cated above, he had lost two thousand
dollars. I noticed the fljsh upon his
face deepen, and a strange light came
into his eyes. At last, with an excla
mation of triumph, he drew toward him
the heap of notes.
"That was well done,"said the strang
er. You are an expert at cheating. Bi.t
goon, I can beat you whether you play
openly or dishonestly."
Sturdivant said nothing but dealt the
cards again. The hand was played, and
Sturdivant w as about to sieze the stakes
when the stranger laid down a card and
checked him. The gambler uttered a
sharp cry and sat motionless, with his
eyes fixed on a card, a worn and faded
ace of hearts with a dark-red stain
across the face. Sturdivant's face
worked convulsively as he gazed at it
and the spectators gathered more closely
around the two, wondering at the
strange scene.
"In God's name, who are you ?"gasp-
ed Sturdivant, his eyes still fixed on the
card.
"Ixok at me," said the stranger
quietly.
As if powerless to resist, Sturdivant
raised his eyes to the speaker. The
stranger had raised his hat and sat look
ing at the trembling man with eyes that
fairly blazed with fury. Sturdivant
uttered a groan, and sank back in his
chair, with his face white and rigid.
The stranger with onj sweep gathered
up the money from the table and thrust
it into his breast.
That ace of hearts is an un'ucky
card for you, Daniel Sturdivant," he
said coldly. "You played it once when
you thought it to your advantage.
Xot, God help you, for the play is re
turned!"
As he spoke, he raised a pistol, which
we had not seen, and, before we could
stop him aimed it deliberrtely at the
trembling man and fired. The gambler
fell heavily upou the table, a corpse,
and the bright blood streamed over it,
hiding the fatal card from sight.
"Gentlemen," said the stranger,
rising to his feet, as we stood paralyzed
with horror at the dreadful scene,
"that man ruined my wife and tried to
murder me. I have been hunting for
him ten years.
He walked slowly by us down the
stairway to tbe lower deck. J ust then
the steamer touched at a landing and he
sprang ashore and vanished in the dark
woods. - ' "
I never learned the history of the
mysterious affair, for the dead gambler
was beyond human questioning, and I
never saw the stranger again; but I
shall not soon forget the impression il
made upon tr.e at the time.
It is just as much jour de.ty to be a
Christian and set me an example, as it
is my duty to be one and set you an example.
A Floating Inland.
The existence of a floating island,
Waga-quele, in Vanua Levu, South
Pacific, is known to very few, probably,
besides those natives who reside In or
near the district of Xadogo, to the
northeast of the province of Macuata.
Xo visit previous to ours, so far as we
are informed, has been paid to the place
by any European. A short account,
therefore, of what we saw may not be
without some interest. We had slept
on the island of Kavcwa, and in the
morning sailed to the mainland opposite,
and entered the river Malaqio, near to
the town of Xuhu. The river is of con
siderable size, and might be navigable
for five or six miles in a ten-ton cutter
On our arrival at the lake, whither the
most of the natives had preceded us,
the scene that presented itself was at
once most lively and dim dreary. Very
dreary because, as far as the eye could
reach, there lay a barren waste. We
stood in the ceuter of a vast moorland,
and the lake had dwindledduringa five
months' drought to a swamp. There
was no sign of life but what we ourselves
had brought. We were lively enough,
however, as you may imagine. The
taukei" had clambered up a tree on
the island (or a tall bush called na'.ata),
aud was adj-iring the island-gods to
move; the girls were on the opposite
side of the mere, iu the full flow of a
meke; about half a dozeu natives were
IKiIing about a small island in the high
est glee, and a number both of men and
women were on the la.ge island with
the taukei. ho seemed to be the genius
loci, helping him (with stout jtoles) to
move the mass. Every one was in the
highest spirits. One chief told us that
the Waga-qule had sailed across the
mere that morning, which we had great
pleasure iu believing, as the wind was
irom that quarter, but it was lying on
the lee side now, and swayed about
without progressing much. A light
spring of three or four feet landed us on
the island, which without doubt is afloat
and moved a fathom or two wheu we
were on it. Had the wind changed, I
feel sure that we should have been
ferried over the water in the "Waga
qule." It is fifty iaces in length and
about twenty iu breadth, and is com
posed entirely of firm turf, in some
places quite dry, being thickly covered
with tall bushes t'kuts), besides several
nalata bushes fifteen to twenty feet high.
There are four islands in all. Three are
of the size aud apcarance of that on
which we stood. One has three balawa
trees on it, and appears to have been
more recent y letache I from itsmooring.
The fourth island is smaller, being only
about fifteen feet in length, and on it
was the scene of most uproarious mirth.
At one time we counted ten men on it,
one of whom was a very reverend
vakavuvuli buli, i. e., head teacher of
our party, who, being now convinced
that there w as nothing in the " kaci
kaci," was giving his mind eulirely to
the scientific side of the question. The
aggregate weight of the ten people must
have been about 1,500 pounds, and the
island sank several inches, and canted
ominously until relieved of part of its
burden. The men, one by one. teacher
and all, plunged into the water aud
swam about, regardless of the grim
warning of the old man up the tree that
they would be seized by unseen hands
below. We were not slow to follow
the example ot the natives, and jumped
in also. The banks are covered with
bushes, and are level with the water.
They do not shelve at all, but go down
sheer. Where we bathed there was no
bottom for at least two to three fathoms
at the very margin of the moss. Iu
many places the water had sapped the
loose soil under the turf to a considera
ble distance. At the time of our visit
the size of the mere was about 250 yards
by 150, but probably after much rain
it is three times that size, We had no
means of judging the depth other thau
by swimming, and we can only say that
we found it to be more than two fathoms
in the middle, but how much more we
cannot say, and where the island had
drifted it was two fathoms. The water
is stagnant, but not impure; it U not
pleasant to the taste, but there is hardly
a suspicion of a boggy flavor. The sun
was extremely hot, and after our shade
less walk we arrived in a simmering
condition, and the water felt cool and
refreshing. We swam the entire length
and back again without finding any
snags, or any leaves or sticks of any ki nd
As may be supposed, the place is haunt
ed by ghosts of old superstitions, and
much of the interest of our visit was
connected with the legends told to us.
The natives were very eage to tell us
that since they had become "lotu" they
bad ceased to believe in the god; but
the very eagerness with wnich they
spoke, and an entreaty that they had
made to us on the day previous that we
should not approach the island without
the "taul.ei" were significant of the
strength of their old habits of thought.
Besides the man up the tree, to whose
kaci. kaci" we have called attention
there was another "taukei" present
a woman tall and handsome, though no
longer young. She had a most com
manding appearance, andas she stood on
the island and gave her orders, faded
memories of what we had read of the
sybils of old were revived, and we could
lelieve in her as the last representative
of an expiring faith. She told us stories
of the island god, in what she has since
been taught to call "devil times" (na
gaana vaka tevora), but always added,
"since I put on mysulu I do not believe
in him any longer." His name was
Dro Walavala (Dro meaning Mr.). We
begged of her not to call him a tevoro,
but a kolon as of old. ne had power in
the district, and was much feared,
though not an unkindly god when re
spectfully treated.- Offerings were
brought regularly, and neglect was
punished. We were told of some girls
who attempted to swim across the mere
without asking Dro Walavala's permis
sion, and they swam, and swam, and
swam, but could not get across at all."
Then they, remembered the god, and
went home for present. After that
they crossed easily. One man, too
curious, is said to have put his hand
D How the Island, to see what it was
made of, and wheu he drew back his
arm his hand was gone. The island
god once gave a present of a club to the
taukei; and at fifty miles distance we
were assured that we should see the
club; but as we neared the place its
whereabouts became more aud more
vague, until our arrival on the spot
when there was no traceof it. Another
god. called "Lotu," had taken away
that club. There were some other
thinge, also, that we did not see. The
three eels that served the Waga-qele as
a rudder in the geod old times, we did
not see. But we were glad to see the
island itself, and all the place, before
the light of the ancient mythology had
entirely faded away, or, rather, had
become merged into the greater light;
for the simple belief of these people was
but a tropic night, and not entirely des
titute of some good thing.
A Military Romance.
Orange county, X'. Y., has just had
a wedding with enough romance about
it for a novel. In 18C2 the bridegroom
then a young man, though under an
engagement to the lady whom he ex
pected to marry enlisted iu the Union
army. His sweetheart made no effort
to dissuade him from what he thought
his duty, and w ith breaking heart she
bade him adieu, and quietly buried her
self in her home with her widowed
mother, the only living member of the
family beside herself. For awhile all
went well, and loving letters from his
sweetheart cheered the gallant soldier
and tender words of hope from him
made lile endurable to her. After the
battle of Chancellorsville his letters
uddenly ceased. Letter afte- letter
was written to him and Ins comrades
but all that could be learned was, that
after the terrible battle he was missing.
Whether he had been killed or taken
prisoner no one could tell, aud his fate
remained a mystery. His striken
sweetheart never entirely abandoned
hope, and lived on "tender and true."
Hoping against hoe for his return.
After man' patient years her troth has
been rewarded, and she is now a happy
bride. His narrative is that sometime
during the fisht he was taken prisoner.
and soon after he was sent to a South
can prison, where he was kept about a
year, sunering untold torture. He
final lyescaed a'ld reached the seaboard,
where he conceived the Idea of person
ating an English sailor anil getting to
England on a blockade runner. Alter
that all is blank. He learned afterwards
that he had been taken ill, and soon
after was in-ane. On his arr'val in
England he was taken to the insane
asylum by the Captain of the blockade
runner, where he remained until a year
ago, when he was discharged cured, but
penniless. He succeeded in securing a
situation in a mercantile house, where
lie rapidly won the esteem of the prin
ciples, to' whom he told his story. A
leave of ibsence was granted him, he
came to Middletown and found his old
sweetheart, now a mature lady of thirty
two, still faithful to his memory. Thev
were quietly uiarried. aud returned to
England, where he proposes to remain
for a term ol years. During his long
absence his only surviving relatives, a
brother aud uncle, had died and he had
no ties to keep him here, save the love
r . . . , .: , , . 11 " !
oi couiiiry, which w in eveniuaiiy uring
him and his faithful wife hack to our
shores.
Enrinons Price for Painting e.
Some enormous prices were realized
at a sale in Loudon of the collection of
pictures formed by the late Mr. Mucro.
Sir Joshua Reynolds' "Kitty Fisher"
brought $3,570, and his portrait of the
Hon. Mrs. Stanhope, personifying
"Contemplation," was knocked down
for $15,300. Wilkie's "Gentle Shep
herd" brought on!y $816, and the pic
tures of Richard Wilson, believed by
many in Fngland to be the finest classi
cal painter of the eighteenth century
sold for a mere song. Then came the
productions of Joseph M. W. Turner.
Thirty-two drawings, large and small,
brought a little over $Sl,600. The old
pictures, which included "Ancient
Italy," "Modern Rome," "Rome from
the Oventuinc," "Juliet after the
Masquerade," "Van Tromp's Gallery."
"Avalanche Iu the Vald'Aosta," and
the "Kilgarren Castle," went at prices
ranging between $10,200 and $29,780
apiece. Two others sold for $26,000
each. The nine works in oil produced
an aggregate of $211,056, and the grand
total for all the Turners sold that day
was $293,632. Two undeniable genuin
Hogarths, being two of the scenes from
the "Harlot's Progress," went cheap,
one for $2.G50, aud the other for $1,530.
Two paintingr R, P. Bennington, "The
Fish Market," and "The Grand Canal,
Venice," sold for $15,300 apiece. The
total amount realized was $356,575, the
highest ever reached for such a small
number of pictures.
' The Right Man.
A day or two since, Mr. Shaw, a time
keeper of the Consolidated Virginia
mine, found a watch lying on the snow
where it haJ evidently been dropped by
some one working in or about the
mine.
Mr. Shaw wrote a note to that effect,
posting it up by the side of the window
to which the men cirae to give in their
names when going on or coming off
their shifts.
Several men called and described
what was, according to their ideas, a
"valuable watch," uearlyall making it
gold, with a fine chain of the same
metal. Some set a number of beautiful
pieces of gold quartz into the links of
the chain.
At last a little Frenchman came to the
window and said : '
"You find oue watch, Mistair Shaw ?"
"Yes, sir," said Shaw. "Have you
lost a watoh?" .........
"Yes, sare, I have lose one watch."
"Can you describe It?"
"Oh, yes, sare, very perfectly."
"Well, what was it like?"
"My watch was a silver one."
"What kind of face?"
"Well, he have he's face wide open."
"What kind of a chain."
"One leedle brass chain."
"What kind of a key was on the
chain?"
"He have no key at all ; I wind him
by zee tail."
The watch was a stem-winder, and
tbe Frenchman had given a perfect de
scription of it, even down to "ee tail.'
Poey la m Swamp.
1 he best time to visit a swi mp
"aright," as Scott says of Melrose, we
must "go visit it by the morninglight,
when the sunbeams are nearly level,
and the dew hings heavy on the grass
blades. - Then it is a picture that would
be worth all the works ot Rubens and
Titian for splendor and richness of col
or, if art could copy it. On one side
aud curving round the end is a large
bed of grass that at a distance looks as
smooth as a carpet of velvet. Here and
there spots and ridges of higher growth
and darker tint vary the surface'.whlch
with every breath of breeze sends shad
ows dancing from the higher points
across the lower levels like the play of
some strange shot silk. On the other
is a ranker growth of coarser grass and
flags, the latter set in clumps, now
round, now oblong, now irregular tri
angles, now long narrow lines, like
soldiers in battle order, their large pur
ple and lavender flowers now in tbe
fullness of bloom, standing in spots
that their curved leaves interlock, ex
tend its whole length, thinned to a line
here, broken across there by enroach
ing grass or yellow scum. Through
the middle, nearly, runs a broad band
of water so closely covered with scum
that it looks solid sending out winding
little branches, sometimes yellow and
glossy as satin, sometimes clear as crys
tal, Into the lines of purple blossomed
flags on one siJe or the changeful em
erald grass on the other.
The low lying beams of the sun shine
out all inequalities, hide every little of
fensiveness, aud light up every dew
drop on the grass blades, on the flag
leaves, on the leaves of the bushes.with
a flashing radiance that would shame a
royal velvet role covered with dia-
mouds, while the yellow scum is
turned to a silky lustre that Lyons nev
er approached. A rotten log half way
up the grass lied is covered with green
ish yellow moss so closely that at a lit
tle distance it looks like a shaft that
had been laboriously covered with vel
vet, and turtles glistening like silver
plates that cover it from end to end.
Here aud there above the scum is a
frog's head, which, wheu it catches the
light properly.lets one see that wonder
ful golden Iris which makes the frog's
eye the most beautiful in color that can
be found "in any human head." In
the bushes on the left, and darting
thence to the other bank and back, are
flock of red winged starlings, the
showiest bird in the woods, with their
glossy black and blazing scarlet.
A jay bird on a beech on the bank is
orating to the woods in the genuine
Voorhees style two squats aud a squall
and then a squall and two squats. Op
posite on the peak of a fence-stake a
meadow lark pours its musical call;
higher, lower, higher aud lower again,
ike an audible expressiou of Hogarth's
hie of beauty. Away in the distance
the dove's doleful plaint iu three notes
s heard, when the rattle of the robin
and the stump-sjieech of the jay bird
don't fill the air. A slight cloud pass
es over the sun, and its shadow iu an
instant changes all the hues of the vel
vet carpet and the satin scum, the silver-backed
turtles and the shaft of em
erald and chrvsophrase they are lying
on. The diamond gleam of the sun and
its rainbow glories go out all over the
swamp. In an instant all comes back
again, as the cloud floats on aud away,
aud the glow'and glitter, the radiance
and the richness of color come back as
it a curtain were sudJeuly Jerked from
over them. There is something worth
seeing even in a swamp.
Wonderful Leaping.
A late visitor to the Sandwich Islands
gives the following account of the leap
iug,swiniining aud diving of the natives.
We returned to the Sunbeam on Christ
mas, and on the following day we
witnessed some extraordinary feats of
swimming performed by the natives of
the Island. A copious stream enters the
sea about a quarter of a mile west of the
little town of Hilo. . At a short distance
from its mouth it forces its way through
a chasm in the volcanic rocks, and then
winds round a precipitous crag of lava,
at the foot of which it forms a still pool
six fathoms in depth. We had been
invited to witness two noted swimmers
leap from the summit of the crag into
the pool below. Tbe whole population
turned out ou the occasion, and seated
themselves on the grassy slopes above
the river, awaiting the arrival of the
two athletes. Meanwhile a number of
the more youthful inhabitants of Hilo,
of both sexes, entertained us with a
display of the art of swimming and
diving. One active girl leaped repeat
edly from a height of twenty feet into
the river. In the intervals between
theli performances these amphibious
people climbed up the rocks that over
bung the river, where they gathered
themselves into the most picturesque
groups of bronze, colored yet shapely
humanity. There were few garments
to mar the symmetry of their forms, but
there was not the slightest taint of im
modesty in the scene. A -sculptor,
looking on with the cultivated eye of a
trained artist, would have reveled in
the graceful movements of the forms
displayed before him ; while a painter
would have appreciated not less the
harmonious colors of the picture, in
which the olive flesh-tints formed such
an admirable contrast to the dark lava
rocks on which the swimmers reclined.
Many a laborious student of the academy
has racked his brain in the vain effort
to produce a composition on canvas or
in marble, with not one half the beauty
or the truth to nature of these fortuitous
assemblages of graceful figures.
An hour had passed away not unpleas
antly when the heroes of the day arrived.
They were to leap into the pool beneath
from the summit of a precipice ninety
feet in height. Thirty feet below the
edge a crag juts out fifteen feet from the
face of the rock. It was necessary for
the swimmers to clear this projection.
We were seated on tbe ledge of rock
near the edge of the water to witness
the feat they were about to perform.
It was a point of view whence the
swimmers were seen with striking
effect, as they first appeared on the crag
before us, and paused for a moment on
its brink before taking their tremendous
leap into the gulf beneath.
As we looked up to the summit of the
precipice the powerful forms of these
olive colored men notable specimens
of the native races of the Pacific stood
out in magnificent relief against the
dark blue sky. Each wore a green
wreath fastened on his brow, a trifling
touch which enhanced the resemblance
to those admirable products of ancient
art, the bronze figures of the flying
Mercury in the museum at Xaples. As
the first swimmer gathered himself
together for the leap there was a breath
less silence in the crowd, a momentary
glance of hesitation in the hero of Hilo,
succeeded bv that set look which a man
wears w ho is determined to do a chiv
alrous deed or perish in the attempt.
Then came a superb elastic bound,
agile readjustment of the balance, anil
the athletic figure darted downwards
like an arrow through the air, with
tremendous splash, disappeared feet
downwards below the glassy surface,
and after a prolonged immersion, rose
again to the surface scathless, amid the
enthusiastic ovations of the crowd. The
great feat was followed by a perfor
mance which, would have excited
wonder. It was a leap down a water
fall having a fail of fifteen feet. X'ot
only did the two champions take the
leap, but even the nymphs of Hilo, iu
numbers, followed them. After disap
pearing for a few moments iu the
seething water at the foot of the cas
cade, they reappeared laughing and
talking, evidently regarding this feat
as an ordinary bathing incident.
- The First Private."
A rare sjiecimen of soldierly humanity
once apjieared at a Southern hotel. In
the large barroom of the house, during
the evening, a discussion aro?e touching
certain events that transpired at the
battle of Shiloh. The dispute waxed
warm. Many of those present had been
in the war, some engaged on the one
side, and some on the other, and being
military men aud ofiicers at that, they
were very emphatic. At length a mod
est gentleman, who had been sitting iu
a far corner, quietly listening, arose
and came forward.
"Gentlemen," said he, " I happened
to be iu that battle was iu at the be
ginning, and came out at the end and
if jou would like, I will tell you just
how it was."
All were cesiectfulty silent while he
spoke, and they could not be otherwise
than attentive; for the man's descrip
tion of the battle was so precise, socir
ciimstantial, so eloquent, and so start
lingly vivid, that thosw who had been
there seemed to be living the fiery scene
over again. When he had concluded,
all understood, and there was room for
no more dispute.
Ou the following morning, the soldier
of Shiloh went to the ottlce to settle his
bill previous to departure, and asked
tlie amount of his indebtedness. Said
the landlord
" You were in the armv?"
"Yes. sir."
' May I a.-k what office you held ?"
" I held no commission, sir, I was but
a private soldier."
"Is it possible? Well, sir, I shall
claim the privilege of celebrating this
rare event by making you a present of
a receipted bill without further cost to
you. Of the thousands of soldiers that
have stopped at my house since the
close of the war, you are the first pri
vate." A Cause of Deafness.
Persons who contemplate spending
the summer at the seashore will be in
terested in a paper contributed to the
Medical Jiteord by Dr. Samuel Sexton,
Surgeon-in-Chief to the Xew York Ear
Dispensary, in which he estimates that
a thousand people of that city are sent
to their physicians, to be treated for
ear diseases, every year, whose trouble
has arisen from getting water in their
ears while bathing, or from catching
cold at such times by exposure or ne
glect. It appears from the Doctor's re
searches that salt water Is peculiarly
irritating to the delicate structures of
the inner ear. Very cold water of the
freshest kind may, however.be equally
harmful, aud there is a short list of cv
ses resulting from the Russiau bath,
two of the patients being themselves
physicians. A few instances are cited
where the trouble came from using the
so-called "nasal douche," water having
penetrated to the ear by the passsage
from the back of the mouth. But these
are unimportant compared with those
where trouble has come from salt water
bathing. Iu all of sixty-five of the last
named cases infiammatian occurred ; in
fifty-seven it was acute. A variety of
subsequent damages may accrue, when
the trouble spreads; permanent deaf
ness is not among the least of these,aud
life itself may be endangered. Surf
bathers are especially exposed to such
injuries, since a breaker may strike
them on the side ot the head and drive
the water into the ear; the same result
may ensue if the bather gets a sudden
mouthful from an unexpected wave,
the water then being forced through
from the mouth to the inner ear. Man,
the doctor thinks, is not naturally am
phibious. Animals fitted for aquatic
life are provided w ith various arrange
ments for keeping the water out; seals,
for instance, have a movable membrane
n the ear, which closes and shuts out
fluid; the muscles of the water shrew
are competent to shut the ear passages.
People who are blessed with very small
openings to their ears run the least
risk in bathing. A man should never
dive, says the doctor, if he wishes to
preserve his hearing. When in the
surf he should take the wave on his
chest or back, "closing his mouth and
nostrils," though how a man can close
bis nostrils the doctor does not state.
But the pledget of cotton for the ears is
essential, and every bather should be
provided with it.
Those who aspire aitar what la holy
and pure shall have assistance from
above.
The Honer-Mooa Eclipsed.
"When you are looking on me you
are looking down on a heart-broken
woman," said Eliza Powers as she
wiped her eyes before the desk.
"They come here most every day,' he
replied.
"I was married four weeks ago," she
sighed softly as she scratched her nose
"1 was living as oozy as a duck, np on
Cbene street, when Powers first found
me. lie said he was struck with my
beauty."
"Was he crazy ?" softly inquired his
Honor, after the boys got through
laughing.
"Xo sir; he was a nice man, or so
though then. He could quote off the
nicest poetry you ever heard. He could
tell you how long George Washington
was President, which is the biggest
city in the world, when old John Brown
was killed, and lots of other things
And he called me his angel, sir, and he
was always talking about my raving
locks and chestnut eyes."
"Hurry up come to the family light
us soon as you can," warned the Court,
as she paused for breath.
"Can't 1 tell what 1 wore when we
went to be married ?"
"Xo, ma'am. The law doesn't know
as you wore anything."
"Well, I did, sir. D'ye s'pose I'd be
married without clothes, and good
clothes, too? Well, as I was saying,
we'd been married three days when I
hit him a slap on the ear and he gave
me a cuff on the mouth."
Any more?"
Yes, sir; but it was his fault. He
called me names, and he objected when
I took a little sip to drown me sorrow,
and he was mad when I wouldn't draw
me seven dollars out of the bank and let
him invest It for me. The other day he
left me. We had a row, sir, and be
cause I backed him into the wood box
and jamed bis bead agin a rail he flew
to Canada."
"I'm left here with me sorrow
This dark day;
That I may die to-morrow
I shall pray."
"Pooh !"
"Oh, you may mike light of this
aching heart, sir, but I'll soon be under
the sod."
"You'll soon get the red color out of
your face, your hands washed your hair
combed, and a job for sixty days," he
replied.
If you send me up I'll choke meself
to death w 1th a string !"
That is nothing to me, Mrs. John
son. If I lend a man my snow-shovel
and he breaks his back by falling over
it, the law can't hold me. Go in and
sit down. There's a pan of snow ap
ples, a dime novel, and a good fin: in
there.
A Kope's fatal WraknfM,
People ho were near the
York anchorage of the East
Xew
River
Inst.,
Bridge about noou on the 15th
were suddenly startled by a loud re
port, as of a cannon, and a crashing
whizzing noise. One of the strands of
cable Xo. 1 of the bridge had suddenly
given way, killing two ot the men who
had been working upon it. This is the
first accident of the kind that has hap
pened on the bridge. The Xew York
anchorage is seventy feet in height, and
at the top it is 120 feet square. Running
east and west are the four main cables,
none of which is completed, that will
support the bridge. Theeablesare made
in the following ma-iner: A steel wire
is run along by a reel over the pier to
the anchorage, and there is passed round
the "shoe." This is a large piece of
iron something in the shape of a horse
shoe, and weighing about a ton.
The shoe is held in position by two
thick iron bars, nearly fourteen feet in
length, with pulleys at the other end.
The shoe and bars are laid between longr
thick, and broad iron bars, called eye-
bars, connected together by iron pins
that run through all the bar. When
the steel wire is passed around the
shoe, it is sent back on the reel to go
through the same process on the other
side of the bridge. When he wire has
been laid 270 times each way it forms
a strand. The wires are firmly wound
round with other wire and rope. When
nineteen such strands are completed
they are iu their turn bound together
and form a main cable. When a strand
is being made the wires are stretched at
the highest possible attitude to test the
utmost tension and when completed are
iowered to the level of the'main cable.
The strain upon the strand, when com
pleted Is seventy-five tous, and when
lowered to the level of the cable at
about forty tons. The strand Is lowered
by a wire rope, an inch and a quarter
thick, fastened to the shoe and passing
through sheaves or blocks of six wheels
so that the maximum strain upon the
rope between the sheaves in not more
thau twelve and a half tons. The rope
is worked by a steam engine at the root
of the anchorage. At the time the ac
cident occurred a gang of men was em
ployed iu lowering this strand, which
was at the northern end of the anchor
age, under the directum of Mr. Farring
ton, the master machinist. Thomas W.
Blake was standing on the block at the
northwestern end of the anchorage;
Henry Suple standing on the northern
eye-bars, was bending over, with a
crow-bar in his hands, prying off the
strand to keep it between the bars and
Mr. Farrington was standing upon the
other strands that had already been
placed in position nearly opposite to
Supple. The other men were holding
the wire rope with pieces of loose rope,
coiled round it. The huge iron block
of six iron pulleys was slowly moving
forward ; the wire rope was slowly run
ning through the sheaves, and the
strand was already lowered so much
that tbe strain upon it had been reduced
from seventy-five to less than fifty tons
It was within a few seconds of 12 oclock.
Mr. Farrington had just told the men
to remove the ropes by which they were
holding on to the wire rope, when sud
denly a loud report was heard, The
wire rope while running between the
sheaves bad snapped. The ends of the
rope went flying round through the
sheaves, knocking the men In all direc
tions Blake was struck by the recoil
of the hinder portion of the broken
roge and hurled to the corner of the
anchorage, covering the stones and
irou work with his blood,. His right
arm was dish c tted at' the shoulder,
and torn out at the elbow, the bone
protruding about three inches from
the flesh. A blow on the head, just
above the forehead, had made a hole
through which the brains could be
seen. He died immediately. Supple,
who was standing forward was hurled
back against the woodwork, and ropes
on the side of the anchorage, ami, roll
ing through, fell down into the yard,
nearly seveuty seet below. He died
about two o"clck. Mr. Farsington was
struck by the rope and thrown upon his
on theother strands, the entire tackling
flyihg over his prostrate body, but
without doing him any further injury.
The huge block of pulleys, weighing
about 300 pound, attached to the shoe,
which, with its bars weighed about
three tons, all under the heavy strain of
the strand, being suddenly released
darted toward the rver with a loud
whizzing sound. The huge mUsle
passed over two hou-es, demolishing
the chimney of a third partly cracking
its roof, and knocked off a few bricks
from the roofs of the two next houses.
South street, which was crowded with
vehicles and people it broke down, a
stout new telegraph pole, which it bore
along with it. Passing over the eutire
street, it struck the pavement ou the
eastern side and rebounding, tore away
part of the high wooden fence ot the
yard ot the main pier, and nnaily
rested on a heap of gravel, w here a few
minutes before a gang ot men, with
several carts, had been at work. The
gate watchman and one of the foremen
were sitting eating their dinners, about
five feet from where the shoe finally
struck. An Italian candy vender, was
staiding iu the street, and a portion of
the rope struck his stand, demolishing
it and scattering his wares in all direc
tions, but the man escajie.1. A car was
passing, ami the rope rushed past close
behind the rear platform. The distance
between the anchorage and the pier ou
the river side is !30 feet, aud the shoe
attached to the strand passed over fully
700 feet before it rested on the bed of
gravel. That p-irt of the strand.bet ween
the piers over the river, rapidly de
scending under its own weight; and
one of the Union ferry boats which wa
crossing to Brooklyn, narrowly escaped
being struck by it.
PaJnlms Death
The pheiioiuenom of death is little
understood. The mystery which
shrouds death is not greater than that
which shrouds birth, or thought or vo
lition; yet religion and various other
things have all conspired to misinter
pret its attendant phenomena. One of
the most coiuBion errors is the idea that
pain and dying are inseparable com
panions. The truth is they rarely g
together. Occasionally, the act of dis
solution is a painful one, but this is an
exception t" the general rule. The rule
is that unconsciousness, not pain, at
tends the filial act. Convulsive twitch-
ngs, livid features, gurgling iu the
throat, and similar ghastly symptoms
which mark the last moment, are only
exhibitions of unconscious automatic
action. The testimony of the dying, so
long as they are able to give any tes'i-
mo'.iy, is that their suffe rings do not in
crease as the termination oi lite ap
proaches, but on the contrary grows
less. Tin- following incident illustrates
the truth of this remark, and so far as
a single instance is of value, confirms
what hx been said as to vhe painless
ness of dissolution. A medical friend,
whom I attended professionally in his
last illness, was a victim of a most pain
ful disease. He was aware of its incu
able character. Supported by an in
telligent faith in God and Immortality
he preparM himself with admirable
courage and unfaltering trust for the
final change. In consequence of con
tinual and severe pain, he was obliged
during the Iat few months of his life
to take opium daily. He sent for me
one night soon after midnight. A brief
examination was sufficient to show that
the end was near.
"Do these symptoms mean ierfora-
tion ?" asked Dr. .
"They do," was the reply.
'Then I have reached the end of the
chapter," he quietly remarked, ami ad
ded, "how long shall I probably last?"
"That you know," I said, "as well as
anyone; perhaps twenty-four hours or
thirty-six hours."
Scarcely heeding the reply he con
tinued :
I am ready, but promise me this,
that I shall not suffer pain if yon can
prevent it."
The promise was given, of course.
and 1 agreed to see him every hour or
two as long as he lived. This being
done, I said to him, 'One thing re
mains, ho shall 1 communicate with
you when, at the very cloe, the time
comes that you cannot indicate wheth
er you suffer or not?"
"After a little talk the following sig
nals were agreed umui. He was to in
licate a negative answer, or no, by
raising the forefinger, and ahlrmative
or yes, by raising the forefinger, and
the one next it also. One gnger was
no; two fingers yes. Having arranged
this matter, he took rather more thau
his habitual dose of opium, and was
soon comparatively quiet. The pain diit
m-tt return. For twelve or fifteen hours
he appeared much as usual ; conversed
with his family and friends, and was
cheerful and sereue. Then as nature s
anesthetic began to act, he became dull
and heavy. In answer to repeated in
quiries as to pain, he constantly re
plied in the negative. At length he
answered less readily. For an hour or
so before death he answered only by
the signal of his fingers which had
been agreed upon, and by that signal
he replied quickly and Intelligently.
Fifteen minutes before dissolution i
asked him. "Do you suffer pain ?" He
instantly made the negative signal by
raising the forefinger. After this he
made no sign, but slept peacefully to
the end.