Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, February 16, 1879, Page 7

THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE: SUNDAY. FEBRUARY 1 1879—SIXTEEN PAGES AFFLICTED BRAZIL. Half a Million of Her Peo- ple Swept Away. Greatest Calamity in Two Hundred Years-=-Drought, Famine, Pestilence. 5 Starving Peasants Eating Their Ovn " Offspring—Unhuried Bodies Torn scd Devoured by Wild Animals. Small-Pox Victims—Thousands in Opén Trenches Botting at Lagoa- Funda, plick Plagoe at Work---Graphie Skeich of the Fest Borrible Visitation of Hodern Times. wrrespondence New Tork Merald. 2 CeARA, Brazil, Dec. 30, 1875.—The famine of 15777 15 confined to that vart of Brazil which i known as the Sertao. This rezionis ntterly unlike the matted forest flats of the Amazon or the roelss mountains of Rio. It is a rolling plain ascending eradually from the sea coast and diversificd everywhere ith isolated hills znd mountains. There is forest zrowth, but it it Jow and not thick, muck more like our North- ern woods than one is apt to imazine for trop- jeal growth. Portions of the Jand are ooen plains, with only seattered trees; in other places the woods have been cut away over extensive trazs. I the Sertao the seasons are very. sharplv divided. The rainy months proper extend from January to June or Juir; the remainder of the yesris dry, so ary that the trees shed their leaves and the grass is all withered. People ean only obtain water by digging for it in the dry beds of sircams, for thereare light show- ers in October, the so-called churar de caju, or cachen rains, wnen the trec of that name is in bloom. 1t sometimes hapoens that the winter months remain dry like the others—a terrible calamity for the noorer people, because they depend for alivinz on the products of their little_plentations, aud the erops can only be raised during the rains. The droughts have left black marks on the history of Northern Brazil. Hardly one of the dozen or more on record has failed to count its victims by hun- dreds of thousands, dnd the material loss is immense.. We understand this betier if we consider the peculiar status of the population. A POVERTT-STRICKEN TOPULATION. In this part of Brazil there are no manufact- ures whatever, very few mines, no fisheries of importance, no_forest industries. The com- munity is exclusively agricultural and pastoral. There” are immensc herds of cattle, consider- able plantations of sugar, cotton, etc, and the poorer veople plant mandioca and corn, tsing the land of their richer nelybbors, for whom they do a little work occasionally. ‘Whetner it be for the pasturage of catule or the erowth of crops the whole community depends on the soil, and hence on the fertilizing rains of winter. If the rains do mot come the people starve. Again, the population has to suffer ter- ribly because it has no help in itself. Of the 2,500,000 nominal inhabitanis of the Sertao not 100,000 are rich men, or even reasouably well otl. The vast majority are an Arab-like ruce, produced by the intermixture of the blacks, whites and Indians—people who have mo prop- erty and never iry tu rise above their normal condivion. Probably this is the most degraded class in Brazil; immorel, ignorant and abom- inaply nithy, hardly washing flesh or clothes from one year’s end to the other. Thedress senerally is of coarse cotton, whiie or blue; the men with a pair of drawers, a shirt hung loosely outside of them, and a broad-brimmed leather hat; the women with only chemise, skirt, and a cloth to throw over their heads. These peonle live in palm-thatched buts; the women do most of the farm work; the men gain a few dollars as herdsmen or by hiring themselfves out for a day occasionally. The ubper classes, on the contrary, will compare favorably with any in Brazil. Most of them are pure whites; they are intellicent, brave, domestic,—far abead, in fact, of the Rio or %o Panlo Brazilians. This mixed population was distributed throuch the Sertzo, much as the people are in our Western communitics—ikcre were numer~ ous villages and bamlets joined to- gether by tolerable roads, hardly any rail- roads, and, as I have intimated, no nayigable rivers. It is important to note tbis, as it ex~ ‘laius much of the suffering brought on by the arought. The Sertao is a strip averaging 500 milesin width, extending from the Parabyba River southward along the coast or near it to the San Francisco; thence between the coast ranee of mountains it is continued southwest- ward to Minas Geraes, almost _in the latitude of Rio. The drought of 187778 was felt all over this tract, bur its_black nucleus was in the Province of Ceara, This Proviuce, to which my observations were contined, is about as large as the Middle States. In 1876 it coutained 400,~ 000 inhabitants, of which at least 750,000 were non-proprictors.—the poor people of whom I nave written. The Province contained only one vort of importance, its Capital; this is indiffer- ently set down on the mapsas Fortaleza, or Ceara; its normal popnlation is 25,000. The strects are well laid cut, and in gencral the lit- tlecityis one of the prettiest and neatest in Brazil. There is no harbor; vessels anchor 1 the open roadstead and passercers are taken to and fro jo little sailing-rafts,—tangadas or catamarans. FIRST TERRORS OF 1877. With these preliminary remarks on the Sertao and the Province of Ceara, your readers are in a. osition to understand the drought and its ter- nble effects. In Ceara the winters of 1875, 1876, and 1877 were all remarkable for torrential raigs. The poor people had avundant harvests from their little clearings, and all went on hap- pily enongh. They were preparing to plant again with the raios of January. But carlvin 1he winter of 1878 vague reports of drougnt be- gan to circulate in Fortaleza. It was said that Craro, Jeo, Telba, and other villages of the in- terior'had had no rains; that the cattle were dring, and even the poorer people began to be pinchied for food, even went 8o far as seriously 1o fear a bad year. The Government papers in- sisted that tlicse reports were a fiction of the Opnosition; but when the 1st of March came and the runjors. were worse than erver, the Bishop ordered prayers in all the churches ad pretendam pluvium. Still, except for this uneasy fecling that ran through all business, there was nothing unusual opserved in the pleasant city or villages sround it. I visited the place in March, 1877, The drouht was then a_subjeet of geveral con- ‘Versation; but nobody understood the extent of the calamity. Suddenly, like a thuoderbolt, there came to the quiet iown 2 message of ter- ror; men’s faces mrew white; men’s hearts sank Within them, for they kopew what the words prophesied. Tt wasirom Telha, in the interior of the province, a letter dated March §, so that 1t must have reached Fortaleza about March 20, The words were simple enouzh: * " PROPLE ARE DYING HERE OF HUNGER.” Now this was early in March, when the drought had Iasted na more than two months, when it was not vet certain that the vear would be altogether o bad one. Butthe poor Sertancjo 15 50 evenly balanced with nature that be cannot stand a frésh strain. His mandioca fields are for & vear only. In a year and a monthhewill starve, unless he has mew crops. It was & sad month in the Sertao—tLis onme of March. some places there bhad heen lighe showers,but the young grassgrowin from these bad dried up on “the black plains. There were 10 leaves on the trees. ‘The cattle were crying r water as only mute nature can. Children were crying for food in the palm-thatched huts. All the carth cried for rain, and yet not s tear of pity came from the clouds. e Inrze cattle Proprietors began to kill their stock in order to et wie meat and hides while there was time. The peasants gathered around these slaughter- Lonses to begn morsel of flesh, and, for the most part, they found willing hearts and hands, Jor the richer Cesrenees are not the men to re- {use a0 alms. But where there were no cattle 1he poor peaple suffered dreadfully. Already they becan to devour the mucuman eeds (lfke aTed bean) und forest roots,—~unwholesome,dis- case-producing food,—but what could starving people do? April came with a blazing sun; no hope of rains. The people, indeed, were m despair. They had formed -long penitential Processions, cutting themselves with sharp kmives or carrying heavy stones on their heads. Now they began 10 fice from the country to the larger villages. Some of them came GOWD to the City of Fortaleza, racged, dirty wretches, With famine marks on_their faces, with famine Wweakness in their thin forms. And still the Guvernment, josisted that the drought was a Ppolitical schieme to oring their party iuto disre- pute. The people were caling cats and dogs by 1his time, when they conld get them. But for ibe most part they were begging of richer oeighbors. “The etrain was so great that private charity began to fail, Cattle stealing and petty thefts of provisions were of everyday occurrence. Letters written at this time alreadv contained sad pictures. Here is one from S. Pedro: PLANTERS HARASSED BY THIEVES AND FAMINE. ““The vegetables planted fn the plains are en- tirely lost; those on the hills are ready to_die for want of a little rain. There is no food on the Jowlands. Scores of poor people have been oblized to migrate to the ‘mountains in search of refuge from the famine. Many are in such a miserable condition that it _cuts our hearts. If we do not soon have public aid many people will dic of huneer. §But, what is moro, a baud of vagabonds and “thieves have invaded the mountain lands along with the refugees; we are obliged to keep some thirty soldiers under arms to guard against their attacks.” This picture is from Caninde “Provisions arc already very scarce, and what there is is too costly for the poor people. They bave nothing to buy with. They o berging through. the strcets. Ah! my friend, the piet- ure is a sad ove. A penitential procession was formed; more than a thousand versons walked the streets barefouted and carrying great stones. Two bundred of the penitents cut themselvesin 2 borrible manner. Imet two men carrving o dying woman to be confessed. I asked what dnssuse she was smitten with. ‘Hunger,’ they said.” CHILDREN ABANDONED TO DIE. From Telba this was received: *“The pastures are changed into deserts, only raraly crossed by some solitary animal, once the flower of the herd. Hereisagroup of thirty poor people in rags, squalid, with misery stamped in their faces. They carrv their Iittle houschola goods on their’ heads or over their shoulders. They are flying to Cariry, where, I fear, they will scek vainly for help. I traversed a region of 120 miics long and never saw a green leaf. Bome villages are completely abandoned; in others the water is disappearing; there is not even cnough for the traveler's horse. Men, women, and children, clothed in rags, on fout, dving of hunger, form a snd picture along the fii‘f;h\rn;s. A family of peasants, flying to the hilt country, passed the night in the forest. In the early morning the older ores went on, abandoning two children, who were too weak from famine to keepup with them. A littie later some passel dead, the other dying. Mandioca meal is selling at 51 milreis the bushel (about twice the or- dinary price), and it can hardly be abtained at ibat.” Beans ana corn,on Which ‘the poorer people eo much depend, cannot be bought at aoy price. The peasants live on wild roots, on umvholesome seeds, on the flesh of unclean ani- mals.” 3 ¢ From Aracaty, under date of May 18, 1877, a Jetter says: My Friexp—The picture of misery which is unveiling belore us is so sad that we would fain turn away our eves. linmigration from the country around has been fucreasing rspldly; we caleulate that by the end of the month it ‘will reach 5,160. Imagine this mass of famine- stricken, starving peoole of the worst customs in the midst of our alreadv imvoverished city and altogether without resources! Itis only a part of the truth.” DESPERATE STRUGGLE TOR LIFE. This universal abandonment of the open country was a feature of «the drought. The poor people from the first sought reiuge in the interior towns or at Fortaleza. Some fled to neighboring provinces, where, however, matters were hardlv-better. In Piaahy and Rio Grande the_peassots were already dying of hunger. And’ this, remember, was only in- the be- giuning of the evil time. Think of the sufferine all throuzh this weary, weary year; think how people who were starving in April must have lived in July, October, December, with the brazen sun every hour drawing away the littla moisture that was jeft. It was no longer a question of saving berds and crops, but of sav- ing human lives. The cattie hud died Jonz be- fore this summer was over. Nota tenth part survived of the immecose herds; sheep and woats hiad fallen a prev to starving robber bands. It was unsafe to travel alone, even by day, so des- perate were the poor people.. The influx of refugees to the villaves and towns was enor- mous,—fiftecn to twenty thousand was noun- usnal number in a place whose normal popula- tion was no more than two or three thousand. By the end of the year therewere 10,000 wretenes edcamped around Fortalez, Iyiug on the sands under huts made of boughs or of palm-leaves, hardly clothed, filthy. famished, begging where they could, and finally dving in the streets, be- cause private charity was exhausted. My col- Jection of letters, writien Quring this time, is only a repetition of fad scencs,—buneer, pesti- lence, assassinution, Tuin of the rich, dying Of the poor. L will guote only from a few. The first was from a priest at Telha: KELP U3, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. ¢« Help me to succor this poor peonle, dying of huvger. 1 am just mounting my horse 10 g0 and confess two poor creatures who are exbir- ing, I do not-wish to say of : hungerg-but that is what appears. Here is a family lor whom, alas! I can do nothing,—father, mother, and little children,—all_prostrated with famnine. Thisis horrible. Help us, for the love of God.” From Quixada, Juue 19: “To thie famine you must add nakedness and pestilence. The woods are infested with rob- bers. I cannot describe it. On all the roads there is 2 contivusl procession of emigrants. In one single road from the centre, which passes by a fricnd’s house, he counted 4,619 reiugecs up to the 14th of Mar. You can thus bave an id‘l’:n. of what is passing ou the other roads.” From Bom Jesus, June 4: * A poor old man died of hunzer yesterday. He left erzht children, who are alinost ready to follow hini.” From Jardim, June 12: #Mandioca meal is selling here at §2¢ to §30 the bushel, normal price, $3; corn at 320, nor- mal, §4; beans at $40, normal, $4; rice at 816, normal, $3; and salt at 340, normal, $4; and all this is anly vominal; even the richer ones are suffering from bubger.” From Pacatuba, June 25: Tt is not only the fuhabitants of the villages who are tortured with famine, but more than 2,000 wretcbes have come down from the in- terior, naked, famished, begwing for bread for the iove of God.” From the priest at Quixada, June 21: Tt {s impossible to deseribe the misery here. Think of a house with six naked, skeleton chnl- dren crying with hunger,and a poor, miserable mother sick on the filthy bed, tortured less with her diseasc than to sce the fittic oncs begeing for bread. Think, again, of famrlics begrmg in the streets, among them old men and presty young girls, almost naked, or with only dirty rags to cover them; abandoned children, who can no longer drag themselves aloog, begging for bread on their bended knees: then yout wil have a poor idea of the state of things here.” From Saboeiro, June 12: “.Yesterday there was buried a boy named Steven; died of hunger.” TEARTLESS GREDITORS. A longer letter comes from Cococy, June 20. I transcribe it because it shows how the famine was making itself felt in all classes, and how some bad spirits took advantage of the suffer- ing. _Itis{rom a pricst: ¢ It 15 uo longer necessary to say thatjwe had no winter, that the people are dving of bunger. To this terrible blovganother comes to exagger- ate our 1lls. The ™bopkeepers are more und more inclined to gain money at the expense of these poor vietims of huneer. 3y ministry carries me to the hut of the peasant as well a3 to the mansién of the rick, aud in both I have witnessed scenes that tear my heart and #ill me with inalgnation. Now I see a father whose family is already suffering from famine. He has only one horse with which he might go to seek a load of provisions in Piauhy; this horse is taken away irom him by his creditors. An- other has no horse, but he hus a single ox, which lie might kill to fecd his children on their journey to some blace of safety:; this is torn away from tim. Another has neither horse nor ox, but he nas a tew goats that might serve to keep the family alive for a little; but these are telen by the creditors. Still anotber bas neither horse, nOr OX, nor yet a_Eingle zoat: his family 1s sustained only with wild roots; but he has a good dog to hunt with; it is taken. Oune of these merchants, more humane than the others, sald to * What van I-do, your reverence! 1 never was so heartbroken as during this year in collecting oy debts. I never saw s0 much misery. The other day I weut to demand pay- ment of a poor man, but an honest one, who had always met me prum[mlv wntil now. ‘The mau burst. into tears. *1 will pay you,’ said he; you shall have all there is (ticre Was nothing), ‘but what will become of me nnd my little ones?’ I pitied him eo that I told bim lie mizbt rest ©asy 1or this vear; but what will become of me with my creditors in the city?” Ab, my friend, in what conditivn do the other poor tamilies re- main whoe are tortured by creditors! The father bears his children weeping; he goes.to seck mucuman eceds and roots of the paude moco, and it is hard ¢nough to find even these poisons. The mother sees another little one die of hunger, and she Zoes out broken hearted to beg a morsel for those that are Jeft.” MISERABLE WRETCHES SEEKING FOOD. 8N JoA0 DE PrINCIPE, July 29, 1877.—This village is almost deserted; the people have eni- grated. The soectacle presented by the olains is terrible. Three months hence the vietims will oecounted by hundredsas they now are by units, for cven to-day there are deaths from hunger. The cattle industry be considered extinct.” “1xv, Aug. 10, 18] 1 live on the borders of the road which comes from Tamboril, Boa Via- em, and other piaces in the interior ds far back as Ico and Telba. Daily I see caravans of cmi- prants passing by, hundreds of wretches half dead with hunger, naked, -lean, with suoken eves, driven idivtic from want of food, guing to Serra Granac to save their lives if may be. But they deceive themselves: they will die there sooner than in their homes. On the Serra there y found the children,—one” 15 only a listle meat'and less incendioca menl, and what will the poor peovle buy withi 'The Government nos sent us a few foads of provis- ions; but what is this drop in the ocean of our misery?” * QUIXADA, Aug. 5.—I had hoped until very lately that people would not aie of hunger here, but there can no longer be any doubt of it. Already I have scen persons fall i, the streets stricken by famine.” _‘* CraTo, Aug.’19, 1877.—Yesterdny there ar- rived hiere the Aid Commisston apnointed by the Government. Hardly was the notice received when the poor people came crowding around the door in thousands begeing for help. In the ‘midst of this confusion a poor youug wownn of Gecent family and well appearing forced her way into our prefence with her skeleton mother and ao emaciated child in her arm. She told of & husband dying at home, said that the child had long had only her milk for substance, and that was disappearing because of the wild fruits and roots that she ate. -While we were listening tu her the child died io her arms, Thwk of our condition. We in this house, like others, have gooe without our dioner more than once that we mizht save a few wretches from death. A group of bony children. with no mors strenztn 1o sustaia themselves on foot while they beg for bread; one falls and dies of bunger on the pave- ment. Here again a group of young girls, com- pletely nude, yet they must beg for bread with the rest, G EVERYWHERE HUNGER AND DEATIL A priest writes from Quixada on the 20th of September: *I arrived here yesterday, and I know not how to write, impressed as Lam with the pie- tures of misery which I have encountered. It is horrible to travel here in the Interior. On the roads I gaw only interminable processions of refugees, naked, tony, and deatblike, trem- bling with cola and hunger. Many fall by the roadside almost inanimate, as happencd st Biacho de Castro, where a poor maa fell down with bis three children, and would have died but for a Senor Moura, who gave them a particle of food. The people have given way to despair. Full of griel I send you notice of the death of five persons, rigorously speaking, of huuger, and this within the village! We find people failen on the payement.”! Wit this letter the priest sent a list of five persous dead of hunger. A little later no one thought of lists; it was the number of scores or bundredsthat had died.., The priest adds Dostseript: z H i **As I closed this a poor woman came to the house, a mother whose children were no longer able.to work. She sald that she could ouly give them water aud alittic salt. A refuzes woman came to ask bread for her father, who had fallen {rom bunger by the river side. ~ And here agoin is a father who brings six little skel- cton children to beg. Ewvouegh, enough, my friends! God have pity on us!*? SOULS SOLD FOR BREAD. From Cariri (Octover) 1 have s long letter (toolong to travscribe), telling of the depredu- tious of robber bands, who overrun the whole region, stealing the few remaining cattle and goats, burning houses, killing men, outraging women. Similar letters from other places, for, like all great national calamitias, the drought awakened the worst passions, drove bumunity from the breast of -men. Young girls_some- tines sold themeelves for alittle food. But why should X go on transcribing letters that are only repetitions of the ‘same horrible facts? Tuose of November and Deccmber contain longer lists of deaths, or, where there Is no space {or the lists, a calculation of so many fallen each day or week—a dozen, oerhaps, or a score. You must remember that this colicction of let~ ters only tells the story of a few Interlor towns; of the other wlliges and lttle citics Ican only judge from casual notes here nud there. But it was the same almost everywhere; only a few favored places along the mouutain sides escaped the eeneral ruin, Even at Forta- leza men were dying in the streets, and yet_the city was in constant comwunication with Rio, Pernambuco, and Para by weekly steamers. DAWN OF THE YRAR 1378, Plcture to yourself the condition of Ceara ir January, 187, A province dried up, blasted, Pastures without grass, forests without leaves, rivers without water, fields without crops. The cattle industry destroyed utterly; only a few beeves survived about the larzer towns of the thousands that had roamed over these plains. ‘The cotton and sugar lndustries almost annihi- lated: no macdioco cven, except in about three or four mountain villages. People obliged to go five or six miles from their houscs t. dig for water in the bed bf some torrent. At least two hundred thousand refugees cocanped about the larger towns,—70,000 of these added to the 25,000 of Fortaleza. A famine wortality, which io'many places had reached twenty ner day. A mortality from disease very much greater. No money 1 the provinclal . treasury; no hope of outside aid, except the drop of private charity, and a1} men looked for-rain. I have Jetters from the interior that cover all this pertod; you will see if X exaggerate. A letter from Aracaly, Dee, 26, says: +The current of emigratiou contioues to swell. Some days more thon a thousand refu- oees have cntercd this town. Already we have an adventitious population of 40,000 souls. Dur- ing the past month there died £03 persous, and, as we have no epidemic here, we must suppose that the ereater part of this mortality arose from bad alimentation or actual famine.” A lit- tle later, the note says, sixty-seven persons died on the 30tk of December and sixty-six on the 31t.” “Sonrir, Nov. 14.—The beri-beri continues to carry off victims almost daily. To-dny a nephew of Dr. Poutes died. This family has lost thirty members. On the other hand the famine is reaping its harvest. If the Govern- ment does not €0on come to our aid the condi- tion of things will be much worse. There is no more mandioca meal. Provision cars must be pulled by men for want of animals.”” *tMissa0 VrLna, Dee. 18.—There are no more provisions; the pcople are dying at a terrible rate. Everyday six orecight of them are puried. Those who dic in the public roads are eaten by wild amimals.” “Laveas, Dec. 25.—Matters are goinz on badly enough. For more than twenty days the Government Commission nave bad nothing at their disposal. They have used every possible means, but_they have: found 1o one to lend them even $30. ~ The state of things among the poor people is terrible; 220 persons have died of hunger. Ihave alist of these, not includ- ing the deaths from dysentery and {rom eating wild roots.” ) +CrATO, Dec. 20.—The drought is rajing ter- ribly; many people have died of hunger, and the rest are in despair, All public and orivate aia has been used up long ago. AMandioca meal bus a nominal price of 20 cents for alittle teacupful, but it can hardly be obtained. Ropadourns, a coarse sugar used by the Sertanezos, are 18 cents each—five times ‘the reeular price. Isay nothiug of rice, corn, and beans, because they bave disappeared absolutely.” MENDICANTS PRATING FOR FOOD. « Assanre, Dec. 17.—How can I describe the miserv that reigns here! Scores of perzons have died from theeffects of famiune, though it is true thatmanyof thesecases werecomplicated by cating wild roots, raw wandioca, tte. Hundreds are polsoned by these roots and must die in a few days. Day and night our aoors are besiezed by cadaverous, almost naked mendicants. Lut very few persouscan give any more, for it they do they will soon be obliged to beg with the rest. When the table is Jaid the house is often invaded, even inside, by children, young girls, men; they come up to us und kneel on the floor to ask 1or a mor- sel for ‘love of God.’ Men, women, und chil- dren congregate fn the streets and yards to gather melon-rinds, mango skins,and reeds, and other refuse; they eat all without fear of the result, which may be bad emough. They eat soap-berries evenl” Breso Succo, Dec. 10.—The body of a man was brought to the church. In the same bam- mock were two children ready to die. A gentlemau who had just come from Saboci- ra 10 Fortaleza writes: «“] found bodies by the roadside fn maoy places; some that I belped to bury had already been torn by dogs and vultares.” Fromw Grabja, near the sea coast, where many refugees had vonuregated, a Government Com- mjssioner writes: » 5 “ As Tpen these lines I am tormented, al~ most decafened by crlies, imprecations, tears, groans of a people driven wild and azonized by famine, nakedaess, and disesse. A thousand -at a time, they beg a morsel for the love of God, for the divine pity, that they may save for a mo- ment some child torn by hunger. A grave woman, pushed about by the people, begs to save herself from the monster that devours her to save the child in her womb. Apother crics for broth for ner husbund, who is prostrated, almost ipanimute by that worst of discases, mine. Another shows her bony body, with hard1y rags to cover her nakedness—a horrible sight. Another begs belp for her husband, ber son, her brother, all dying tozether. One just erica to me, ‘ Help me for the five wounds of Christ! Iam falling.’ This oue says, ‘Seuor‘ Jisten to me, who am dying with my children. She cries, groaps, curses; but what can 1do? there are many; there are 50 manv, alas! Thousands who would have belp ot once. And how shall I help them when I havenoresources? Eight days azo -the Commission bought pro- visious and arranged mouey on the faith of the Goveroment, which had promised resources. But these bave not come. We can do qolhmi;, and the people are cursing-us. *“They give only to their favorites,” the crowd says, and then they ery fiercely, You have food for us; give it at once! “BARBALEA, Jan.'1, 1878.—We calculate that the deaths from hunger slone reach twelye per day;. inauy more dle of discase. In the”ceme- tery they cannot bury the dead fast enougzh. The other day the bodies of three children awalting fnterment were eaten by dogs. Prop- erty is no longer safe; the people steal what they can. Lo the jail the prisonersarestarving.” LIVING SKELETONS RUSH TO THE COAST. So Imight zo-endlessly. Alas! T know how real ftwas. The tears come to my eyes even now when I read these piteous cries for help. unger, pestilence, want—these were what Cedra had to fight when the second great famine year brole in upon her. In January there was ear, in February terror, in March despair; no rains at all in some places, little uscless show- ers at best. And;now comes the most ter- rible scene of all. ‘There was no more hope in the Sertao. No food, and 10 possibility of ob- tafoing it except alone the sea-shore. Then the whola~ bewlidered, famine-stricken, panic-wild | crowd came rushing down to Fortaleza and the coast cities. Without food for the road, naked, sick, dying, even as they fled from death—cvery man for Bimself. Children striving vainly to Keep up with their parents, crying as they roll over the stones, with blecding fect and skeleton buodies, walkiug, crawling along, beeging where uo one could give—for how could & man support. ‘They were famished when they Turee, four, five days they held their way. Then they fell by the roadside and croaned and died. Some pitying hand, perbaps, threw o handful of earth over them, but, for the most part, each was too busy’with his own safety to care for others. o our human brothers died. ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND PEOPLE PERISIED. The greatest mortality from hunger was probably in March; from Feb. 1 to May 1, when 1hie exodus was_takiog place. I can bardly cal- culate the number of famine deaths at less than 100,000 and during the whole drougnt probably 150,000 died of huneger. I, should add that my calculations are much Jower than those of other | persons; some place the entire number a3 hich as 800,000. In Aracaty the death rate fluctuated between ninety and 110 a day; in Fortaleza it was Jess at this time, but eighty per day was bad enough. I bave uotices of ten, twenly, or more daily deaths in small villages; and every- where along the roadsides nameless crosses still tell the story of uncatalogued victims, Dark tules of cannibalism begin to appear. From a letter wristen at Quixeramobim I translate as Tollows: EATING IS OWN CHILD. I writo in haste. £ haqe no time to transeribe the scenes of horror about me. Itis enough to {;X\-o you as o spocimen one nameless erime, A ather, whose uature was so overcome by hun- ger that he killed and _cooked in a pot his little child, two vears old. This took place in Cali- fornia (a settlement near Quixada). The father died soon after his borrible feast. I have three or four shmilar storics, very well authenticated. I beliesw that these and other cases of cannibal- ism were caused by insanity~—a common result of hunger. & I quote alsoa letter from Jazuaribe-Mirim, one of many that tell the same story: ¢ This village is ful of abandoned. children; the despairing fathers would uolouger see them torn by this monster huneer. This verv day, while I'was cating dinner, wy house was in- vaded by a crowd of thesc wretched chiidren, very skeletons, who could bardly speak. Some of them were so weak that they would take only soup, obstlnately refusing more solid food. The road from bere to Aracaty s full of bodies. You can count the crosses by bundreds. Fhe other day, in an ubandoved house, there were found five bodies of refueees, four children aud one old woman. By the bodles there were three strips of leather in the kettle over the ashes of an extinguished fire. A dog, the faithful fricad of the family, was still watvhing them. Near Lettrado three youne girls and an old mau were found eating the flesh of a dead horse which lay by the roadside. This was a family from Laorss. Even in the villaces these poor wretches no longer ask for mundico-menl; they ask for ¢ats und doas to eat. (This is no cxaggeration. One shopkeeper told me of a refuzee who asked permissiou to kill the rats about his place.) Three days ago I made journey of six leazues by the road from Teo, aud what I'saw was indescribable. I tound eleven dead bodies by the roadside and at least forty who were dying. Happily there is no pestilence bere; the deaths are from bunger.” “VARZEA ALEGRE, Feb. 22, 1878.—~We pray God thut be will give pasturaze to our few horses, so that we may not'be forced to fly on foot seith our familics. Many have died of hun- ger; many are still dying. The wild roots .are all gove, You can imagine what the droughs is bere when I tell you thut the sister of the Baron of Aquivaz_is eating mucuinan secds; so her herdsman, Mariauo, tells me. Now, if this lady, sister o a man who before the drouzht was one of therichest in the province, is rowg to the woods after mucuman with ler slaves, what muss be the condition of the poor?”? CEABA IN. JUNE, LAST TEAR, And how we come to the last sad sceve, the scene that 18 yet unrolling itself, and no one can tell’ the end.’ "Unbappy province!:* Pitiless’ indeed would he be who voald view thy tortures unmoved. Consider the provinee as it was {a June, 1877 The interior region, once well pop- uiated, was now almost deserted. Onlya few starving families .remained to mark thriving towns aud villages. I state literal truth when I say that in the fall of this. year it was alimost impossible to travel far from the" coast, because food and water were as utterly un- atteinable as they would be in the Sahara. 1 have conversed with a man who made the journey to Crato in November; he descrived a howling wiiderness, where one secs only desert- ed houses und leafless trees and crosses by the roadside. With our genial climate we cannot understand a real drought. In Ceara birds and insects died during the first blazing summer. Imagine what the plaius must have been with a secoud dry year. ‘The whole populution was eathered in 2 strip not more than seveniy-five miles in its greatest width rurning along the coast. The people were crowded about the cities and villazes, living in wretched huts, and drawing Goverument ratious. At ono time here were 150,000 of them at Fortaleza, 80,000 t Acacaty, and 8o on for other places. BREAKING OUT OF SMALL-PCX. The people bad food epough. but still the death-rate iocreased steadily. in Fortaleza it had reached 200 per day, even as carly as_May orJune. In Aracaty it was hardly less. There were pernicious fevers, beri-beri, a'little chiolera. Yellow fever disappeared with the spring months. But above alt other discases the small- pox began to assume # terrible pre-emincnce. It was worst at Fortaleza. Very few of the people were vaccinated. Isolation of the sick was never enforced. The pestilence, confined at first to the refugcees, soon spreed to the richer classes. By October the 150,000 adventitious Eonulntlun hod dwindled to 70000 or 90,00, including the towns- people; many had died, mauy had cmizrated. Among those that were left the pestilence.was stalking and marking its victims. On Nov. 1 nincty-nine persons dicd of smal(-pox in Forta- lezas on Nov.- 2. 124, and this out of a popula- tion of only 90,000. Your yellow fever deaths never reached such a proportion, But the dis- case went on increasing rapidly. Two hundred, 800, 400 deatbis a day—toward the end of No- vewmber the fizures ran above 500. On the 30t there were 574 regristered, but this includes only the interments in the public grounds. There were Iamilies that could afford to bury their dead in the city cemetery. There were peasants who were Iaid ju _ the thick forest or carried out to sea gn catamarans and sunk there. APPALLING DEATII LISTS. The whole number of registered deaths in November for the two cemeteries of Sin Joao Baptista and Lagon-funca was 11,075, Of these 9,230 were small-pox cases. But I think we must add to this at Teast 1,000 buried, ns [ have sald, in the woods or sunk in the sea. At this time there were 30,000 sick,—more than a third of the population. 8till the death-rate increas- ed. On Dec. 10, $08 small-pux dead were buried in the cemetery of Lagoa-funda, at least seven- ty-five in San Jono, aund probably 150 in the woods and in the sea,—a total death record of over 1,000 fn a single day,—und this out of a population (now reduced) of only 75,000. ‘The ereat plazue at London reached this death-rate, but that was frum a population ot 300,000, After this the mortuary rate decreased, but only because the discasé had mothing more to feed ou. A certain perceniage of a commu- nity are exempt from small-pox. A few, no doubt, were saved by vaccination. By the end of the year the death-rate had gone down to 200 per day. The entire number of deaths for the month was not far fron 21,600. In all great epi- demics, it is said, the people become jvdilfer to their daneer. fu Fortaleza this indifference was sufliciently astonishing. - When; I reached the place on the 20th of December the death- rate was 400 per day; but business was going on much as usual, and hardly anybody bad been driven out of the city by the danger, BURYING IN TREXCHES AT LAGOA-FUNDA. Fortaleza is a very neat and prel.tly town, with wide streets und shaded squares. [ noticed the groups of ragged, dirts people loungiog around the street corners. Farther out were the long rows of huts, a hundred or more clustered to- gether. Once or twice I passed men carrying coffins on their heads; a coflin-shop:near by was evidently doing an active business. Bub the pestilence was all about me. I wentto the grave-yard of Logoa-funds, where the poor peo- Die uré buried; for the old cemetery was over- flowing long ago, und the Government had this one made a leagguc out of town, on the leeward side. 'The precsutions were necessary, too. ‘The filthy huts were bad enough without the worse evil of poisoncd air. " At Lagoa-funda the dead arc buried in trenches, twelve tozether; “except,” remarked onw of the overseers, ** where they come in too fast for us; then we at fifteen or twenty in & trench, conforme.” e trenches are deep; the bodies are vlaced in two layers and well covered.. But the soil is of sharp salicious sand, with no more disinfectant anurucs than a pile of stones would have. With 20,000 bodfes rotting underneath it the stench was nearly insupportable. I stood it for five minutes before I turned away, sick at_heart and stomach from the terrible sight. What I saw was this: A series of pits or trenches, about scven feet by twelve, and seven deep; some of them empty, others half full of corpses, nmot cleanly clad bodies, with folded hands and closed eyes, = resting peacefully in polished coflins; the death horror is all taken away from these. Isaw hideous, filthy masscs of sores, with the staring, wide-open eyes full of sand, the limbs twisted, the face molded to acurse under its mask of sores. There was no covering but the dirty rags. they died in. Mew, women, und children were Indiscriminately tirown 1ato these holes and partially covered with sand. SICKENING PICTURES. Here {s a tableau. A great open fleld with thoosands of mounds in ft—trenches that had been filled in. A'scorc of men digzing new pits. A procession of bodies coming in, some on litters, oftencr tied to a pole between two men. Half-naked bodies with the horrible white sores ou them. Child torpses on trays, carried on men’s heads. Somctimes two or three bodics tied together to a pole, or rolled in a hammock. Of course the stench is worse in new trenches closs beside the old ones. Scveral cases of asphyxia have occurred among the workmen. Men have aetually fallen dead in the graves they were dizeing, as was recorded during the Lon- don plazue, Walking back from the cemetery to the city, I counted fifty-two bodies going to burial.This broad sund beach in front of For- taleza 18 & main road to the burial-ground. From morning till mght a stream of corpses is passing along here. "Inever went to the gea\:h without seeing four or five. While I took my morning bath in the surf a score would pass me. ‘There arc two or three small-uox hospitals; but of course they were overflowing during the epi- demic._The one I visited was close by the ceme- terv. Every cot was full, and as fast as one was vacated it was taken up by a new patient. In maoy cases they did not even wash the cot, and L believed that many deaths were caused iu this wuy, us when a patient only slightly at- tacked was placed on a cot where one had re- agutly died of some aggravated form of the isease. WRETCHED HOVELS. The flics were swarming about here by mill- jons. I think these insectshad mnch to do with the propagatiou of small-pox. passing as they do from house to housc and lighting on face and hands. You must not suppose that all the smull-pox patients were gathered in these bos- pitals. I visited manvol the refuzce buts, and n almost every one I found the dread disease, Some cases I suw were horrible enough, 1 stopped at one but, two or three miles out of town, und away from the main roads. It was the merest shelter, made of bougbs and palin- Ieaves; no floor, of course, and no furniture be- yond a dirty hammock, a mat, and two or three cooking utensils of ¢clay. A woman, to whom I spoke, looked up drowsily, She was suffering trom fever, plainly the fever of small-pox. A baby in the hammock was tossing with the fever also. A little girl on the mat had the white sores just breaking out on_her face. A bovon the gronnd was one horrible mass of rotting flesh, with the blood oozing from all parts of the body. He could not have lived au hour longers And tyet there was no ope to give a cup ol water to this sick family. It was o in many cases. People died of hunger aud thirst because disease left them helpless, and there waz no one to aid them. The refugees scemed fnaifferent to their fate. They Jaughed even to sce some distorted body. They zambled for their rations. I often saw them at this sport. The ouly sizn of fear Iobserved was in the repugnance which the men showed for hospital und cemetery service. It was very difficult especially to flnd grave- dfezers. The deud were collécted every morn- inz by a corps of searchers. - A fixed sum was paid, I believe, for cach body. DISEASE DEFPOPULATING THE VILLAGES. If affairs were bad in Fortaleza, they were -~ worse in some of the vil- lages around it. From fits centre in the Capital the epidemic spread fn all direc- tions. At Pocatubs, with a population (refugees in- cluded) of 3,500, the death-rate went as bigh as 120 per day—81¢ per cent of the whole. In this place { wisited some twenty bouses at randorm, and in every oue I found from oue to five small- pox vases. At a friend’s house where L stopped the servants had scabs still on their faces. Chbildren, lightly attackea, were crawling about the streets or begeing at the railroad station! One man had tweaty-four workmen. Seventcen of these died in forty-five days, and another wag sick when I left. “Anothet’ nine clerks. Six of them. died within four weelks. Fami- lics of ten. died one after another until nome were left. Cases were common “where only two of thrce remained out of alarge-circle. And this, you must remember, Was among the richer class, as well as amonir the poorer, though, no doubt, the wortality was greater with the refurees. Along the_new railrord Jine the mortality aniong the workmen was often very greav; but the engi~ neer, Mr. Mossing, had introduced n scmi- military system. The people lived .in decent houses, and the sick were rigidly seperated from the well. WIHAT VACCINATION MIGHT WAVE DONE. T believe that the epidemic itself might have been prevented by vaccination and the commonest hygienic rulcs. What can be doue?! I° was at Baturite, a_ heautiful villawe about seventy-five miles from Fortateza. There were some 15,000 refuzees there. They lived in decent barracks, had food enough and to spare, and were clothed by the Government. ‘The labor system had been inuse all along.. Vaccination was eaforced and small- pox had hardly been felt there up to Junuary, 131. Outof the 15,000, during my visic, the mortality ran no higher than five per day,—a very low rate when it is considered that pcople were still comingin ina starving state. The 00d condition of affairs at Baturite is almost entirely owing to one moble man, Dr. Antonio Gomes Pereira. This gentleman, one of the wealthiest in the provioce, devoted him- self from the first to succoring the poor peoole. When the great exodus took place he fed thousands at his own expense. As Government Commissioner he in- troduced order and economy into the work. He vacelnated 1,500 people with his own hand, and enforced the measure with all. He is now hon- ored by his neighbors, worstiped by the refu- eees, and he deservesto be known as a man who nas saved 10,000 lives. 5 APPEARANOE OF THE BLACE PLAGUE. I could write much more of Casra and the good and evil I saw there; the evil, alas, too sadly predominant! Oply onc thing more [ will note, for it may be_the sizn of another scourge in the tuture. When I left Fortaleza people were talking of a disease which thev call- ed black small-pox. 1t was utterly unlike the ordinary small-pox. The paticnt was seized with a sudden giddiness, fever, and burning of the tougue; then dark spots like bruises ap- peared on the body, and in twenty-four hours all was ower. I surmised from the tirst, and 1 Dbetieve there is now no doubt, that this is the terrible black piague, the scourge that has so ofteu swept throngh Europe and Asia, but which, so far as L know, has never appeared be- fore ou this side of the Atlantic. The cases were already numerous at the beginning of this year. One of the first victims was the wife of the Provincial President, Scohor Jose Julio. She dicd in o few bours after the discase at- tacked her. She was buried at night iwith- out attendance. What will be “the re- saft of this new pestilence? I only know what bas been,—a province utterly ruined; o population of 900,000 ' ré- duced to 400,000, and these @ylog at an enor- mous rate. Probadly there have been 300,000 deaths in ‘the other drought-stricken provine of which 1 have few notices. ‘I'here is nothing 1 history that will compare with it God grant that there may never be again. e ——— Torse-Stories. They were sitting around the conventional stove in the village tavern, telling tall stories. The tonic was horses. After several inferior tales, old Hobbs be : * My horse was worse than the worst of d ing_baok Presidents, for he was such a forger. Wby, actually, his feet struck together so often that I had to carry. 2 bucket of water in the wagon, and stop every halt mile and wet his feet to cooi them. Some- times they would be red-hot.” Old Teller broke in: “Oh, thaU’s notning. ILonce had a horse, and be wss such a 1orger that 1 could not take him out io @ sleigh” The old man here looked around to see if any one would ask him the reason of thig, but they looked as glam as pall-bearers, 50 he continued: +‘ No, I would unever take him out sieighing, because such o shower of sparks were knocked from his shoes that the snow and ice were melted—turned to mud—be- fore the sleigh-runners reached it. —————— Powerful Explosives Gun-cotton is prepared by dipping cellular tissue, viz., cotton, sawdust, or printing paper, in strong uitric acid (aquafortis). Itis then to be carefully wasbed and dried. It is not ma- terially chanzed in appearance. [t explodes at the heat of boiling water (212) degrees). It ex- plodes with much greater violence and sudden- ness than ganpowder, aud for that reason is more lisble to burst the gun. See what a power sleeps in our ignorance. Take a saw and cut up a bit of deal-board,—a bit of dried_ pine-board. Meake a teacup full of sawdust. Steep this in a saucer full of aquafortis, dry slowly at a’ dis- tance from fire, and tiis single cupful of com- pound, filled intoa tin vessei and inserted in the basement-wall of 2 building, will, when ex- ploded, blow it to pieces. EUROPEAN GOSSIP. LOVE-MAKING IN SPAIN. New Yoris Herald Lester. AMen and women will Iove one another, even {0 suspicious Spain. In real life there is little climblng balconies, just as In real life there is. little comedy or tragedy, only the humdram day following the day. - The secluded maiden wins her triumph on the street or in the church. For- bidden to conquer in the seclusion of home, sne carries her beants fnto the sunshine and ynder the stars, and conquers under the all-conquering universe. All her treasure she pears witn her. ‘That i3 one reason why there is such a contrast i personal decorations between the maiden you meet on the Prado aud those you see on the Champs Elyseesor on Broadway. Bhe comes forth arrayed with all her taste and finery. The vail is seized in the braided hair with jeweled clasp, and falls in graceful folas over the shoulder. Frall, floating lacework festoons the rich stuff which enfolds her form, and the light of the diamond or the pearl flashes out upnn you from under the braided hair or the waving dimple of her chin. Around her wrist many-zemmed bracelets are bound, and a rosary fails from her. fingers, which hold the prayer-book. 1 am writing abont- what I saw the other morning more especially, when, as I came back from 8 stroll tnrough the market-place, the air sudden- ly awakened with the churcd-bells and I re- membered it was Suaday, and along the arrow streets came my lady on her way ‘to_church. This is the hour ot her glory, this is the bour she gives to prayer und conquest. New, if there be bleasings in those eyes, or temptations, or entreaty, or conauest, let them speak, for this nour is alone iven. Other hours are doomed to the latticed windows or the vague, distant balcony, so my lady moves aloug with that slutu'ly grace which you mark so well in Spain. At her side i3 the duenna, a stifl, elderly lady in black, with eyes partly closed, twirling her beads with her thumbs, and mumbling her lips in prayer. She is thinking of the Virzin, or, perhaps, she recalls her own days of lope and entreaty, when, with conquer- ing eyes and graceful footstep, she walked these very streets to-church. But they have gone, and she is now a draron herself, and there are no more conquests for her in this world, and nothing remains but Our Lady of Sorrow. Here, too, are the Romeos of Cadiz—listening, watching, waiting. They have arrayed them- sclves for the encounter.” The black clook folds over the shoulder, You observe thut it so ralls 48 to show the silk lining of orance, or burple, or erimson. I suppose these colors have a meaning, and I fnnd{ull that when a young man is very much in love be would show it by the colors of the silken lining. A man, for instance, on the threshold of love, seeing the mystery just looming over his horizon, might express his bewildering hopes in orange. An accepted or triumphant lover could give way to his emo- tions in crimson, while the rejected, unhappy soul could prociaim his grief in purple. But my Jady moves on to church, her bended eyes lovking from under the drooped eyelashes, looking conquest and entreaty. If she also pravs as_she fumbles her rosary, it is to Our Lady of Consolation. She moves on to the church and kueels before the altar. Ir she has made 2 conquest,—if, a3 is most probable, the conquest hgs long been made, you will observe 2 decent younz man pace slowly after und kneel as pear as the dragon will permit. Of course they can not speak. But tlierc are so many delicious opportunities during the solemn hours of the mass when lie can cater 8 glauce of ber eyes, or sec the heaving of the bosom, or the mautliog cheek,—when, as she bends her head und strikes her breast, he can koow her very thoughts and eend the same petition to Our Lady of Hope. Perhaps, if he is daring, or has made interest with one of the church aticud- ants,~for 1 have. been told that such things bave happened io Spain,—he wmay have a prayer- book slipped into ber hand, ind withic the leaves tnere will be found a sotnet or a rhapso- dy. Here, for instance, is one that [ read the other day io one of the almdst-forroiten novels of Cervantes, a rhyme which a lover slipped into the hands of the lady of bis love. Itisin the form of a dialogue: irander—Who renders love subordimate? ‘sla—He who knows how to be silent. is—Ile who has constancy and faith. d what arrests him in bis fligat? Iyrsis—Persevering constancy. Sylv.—Then the gweet irult which may arise From your fond passion he may prize. And though my smothored tongue e mute, With luve, faith, soul, Il gain my suit. —But what substatistes love? Thlm —Perpetual return Syle. ~What instantly extingnishes it? Thyrsis—Contempt and disdain. Syip.—And these two feelings banished? Thyrei:—His fiames are everlasting. , ‘This is the hour of tonquest, the consummate hour in the maiden’s life. There are the even- ing walks on the Prado, when glances may come and go; but then all the world is by, and there musie, and dresses, and gosaip. The night fuils, and if the lover fecls that he bas oot been uuwelcome he oes to his lady’shome. Instead of sending In his card, and baogive his overcont on the rack, aud walting in the parlor until the idol of his dreams comies down, he kuoocks at the barred windows. It there fs no response he will play a serenade on the gultar. I am led to malke this latter observation more by what I have seen in operas than from what I bave observed in Spain. Most of the lovers that have seen at their burred windows have been without musical instru- ments. I take it, thercfore, thut the gnitar comes ia as overture, (})erhuns. iv the beginning, before Romeo bas made any headway, and when he thinks an air from * Kigoletto” or * Don Pasquale ” may develop the situation or eutice aglove or a ribbon. 1f.Romeo is known to the family of Miss Juliet as a serious, proper per- sou, who has no day of dissipation but the bull- fieht or the Corpus Christi, then he i8 allowed to come to the barred window, and Juliet may talk to him thronzh the ruised edeze of the cur- tain. Perhaps he may be allowed to touch her lips with his fingers; but his presence at the window indicates that he is a favored lover. He never enters the bome of his love untfl be comes to take her to church. Perhaps in special cases the evening before the ceremony he may come with a few friends. A HEROIC SPANISH MAIDEN. Inapart of Spain Lnown as Da Carolina there stauds a substantial farm-house, belong- ing to o man named Faeros, who is in more than comfortable carcumstances. His family consists of his wife and oge black-eyed little daughter, 13 years old, the heroine of this tale. This farm-house was the scene of a tragedy a short time azo. A few days previous to ft the farmer sold some cattle, for which he receiveil $1,500. ‘The fact of Lis baving received solarge a sum became known to some robbers in the vicinity, and they laid their plans to obtain possession of it. The plan, which was exceed- ingly ingenious, was carried out as follows: At & timo of day when the male members of the housebold were away engaged in thelr various duities, a man supporting a woman who seamed unable to walk appeorec at the door. The mau, who looked respectable though travel- tained, statea that they were natiges of a nefghboring village on their way home, and that his_wife, who was in delicate - health, had broken down, and was unable to go a step fur- ther; he begeed, therefore, that she might be allowed to sit down in the house and rest while he went in search of s conveyance to carry her to the end of her journey. ‘The desired bospl- tality was generously granted as soon as asked. ‘I'he man went on his way, while the iovalld took a seat by the fireside. After proffering such re- 1reshment as the house atforded, the mother and daughter went on with their nousehold duties. ‘The mother saw nothing tnusual, but Caramit: for such was_the girl’s name, who sharply eye the visitor with the curiosity of childhood, was terror-stricken to observe that bemeath her skirts the sick woman wore pantaloons. Witha discretion beyond her years, she managed to com- municate her discovery to her motlier without awakening the suspicion of the stranger. As coolly as was possible under the circumstances, the two withdrew ts a neighboring room and locked the door. Convinced aftera time that his sex and character were discovered, the rob- ber cast off ail disguise, and, approaching the door, ordered the terrified woman to open it at ooce under penaltyof death. Finding that they did not yield to_his threats, he attempted to force o passage. Falling fn that, he drew 2 large knife and proceeded to cat a hole throuzh the Goor large enough to crawl through. When the opeuing_was large enough he attempted to enter. The mother fainted with terror, but Caramita, seizing her father’s gun, which Inckily stood loaded in_ the corncr, walked resolutely up to the intruder, who was fast making bis way to thé room. Vith a face like ashes, and every nerve straioed to.Jts otmost tension, she placed the muzzle of tne gun against the body of the rubber, whe was partly heid in the narrow opening, and pulled the trigzer. There was a desfeninr report, and~ the heavy charge of buckshot ~with ~which the weapon was loaded tore through the body of the intruder, making a feurful wound and al- most tearing out hisheart. Stunved h& the dis- charge, and_ terrified at _the sight of the blood streaming on the floor, and the horrible face of the dead roboer, whose body was csught in the aperture, Caramita’s courage gave way and she threw hersclf fainting upon her mother. The report of the gun brought back the companion, —and, as it proved, the brother of the dead mau, —who was preparing roshn bloody revenge when the father and two of the mounted police, at- tracted by the noise of the shooting, arrived. The surviving criminal was instantly secured, and the dead body of the other examined. They found, besides two pistols and a poniard, a whistle on the corpse. The police shrewdly” fancied there might bemore of the bandus within eall, and, concealing themselves, ssunded the whistle. In a few minutes four more bandits arrived, who, however, promptly sub-~ mitted to arrest without a struggle. ‘The crim- inals were taken to the nearest prison, Where they will soon be tried. - BEACONSFIELD’S LIBRARY. From Sketch in New Fork World. . The comfort which we are taughe to look for in every English homeis found for the first time in the library. This apartment is half a library and half a drawiog-room. Thers ars plenty of tomes but no dust. The light is abundant, and falls as often oo brilliant hang- ings as on sober bindings; and evidently no bangings are too brilliant for the taste of the occupant. Rich oriental yeliows predominate in the decorations, but there Is an oriental har- mony in the fittings of the apartments taken as a whole. The bookbinder's lines of zold on the volumes here and there catch np and carry out the colors, a5 an artist would say, from one end of the room to the other, and the place is filled with bits of bric-a-brac_which serve the same end. Yonder huge knife In its case of Zold is one of the owner’s memorials of Eastern travel. He was but a boy then, and he had a marked boy’s taste for these glittering toys. Conles of the Reyue dos Deux Mondes Iying on the table show, if not the tastes, at lcast the necessities, of his maturer age. These two num- bers are the very last books he bas bzen con- sulting. The paper-knife marks them. The reader has but just feft them, to take them up azain when he returos to the room. Evidently the hero of the Berlin Congress desires to sce what his neighbors think of his Eastern poliey,— " who was it put about the story that Lord Heae- ousfield knows no French? Another lie gone the ‘“fi of the rest! ere as everywhere in this interesting bu melancholy house are pictures of fricnds dead and gone. That of the poet Rogers hanging by the mantelpiece is but a pencil-sketch, amateur- ish, yet not without merit. It at least does full justice to that nose and chin which, according to Byron, **would shamea_koocker.” Rogers was a very early {riend of Disraeli, perhaps hiz earliest. It was he whotook the boy to be bape tized, at_St. Andrew’s, Holborn, aud, in thus giving him his start in Protestant Christfanity, gave him also bis start in English political life. There are other sketches, more amateurish still, of which the master of the house is the subject as he appeared when recefving an honorary de- gree at & Scotch university. The lady who drew * them did not spsre lim. They show enough feminine malice, i not cnough artistic ability, for Lunch. His lordship scems tobe quite conscious how cxquisitely ludicrous he looks in bis bacwy robe of dignity, and with his demure, downcast eye. : Presentation books lie sbout on the tables. One of them, a trophy from Berlin, is a beauti- fully printed and ss beautifully bound edition of the Psalms in German, weighing several pounds. A slio of paper thrust between the Ieaves says that is from an admirer; there i8 no other clew to the giver's name. Near it les a copy of the parliamentary return of land- owners in Eneland and Wales, the modern *Domesdsy Book ” brought dowa to date. [t is hanusomely bound, sad an mscription on the cover mentions that the retarn was moved for by Mr. Disraell. It did nov exactly answer his purpose, which was to prove that the owner- ship of the soil of England was far moro equally distributed smong the people than was supposed. For, if it showed that Mr. Bright bad monstrously overstepped the radical casc, it also showed that the few have too much land and the many too little. Perhaps Mr. Disraclt had better bave left it alone. Bat e has never troubled himself much about deluges in the great hereafter. THE CORSICAN VENDETYTA. The most croshing reprouach that can be of- fesed toa Corsican is to have failed in bis obli- gation. In the Middle Azesany one who backed. out was fined, and, if he remained contumacious for a week, banished. In 1551 the person euilty of rimbeccare had his tongue slit. Some- times the quarrel extended to villages. From 1812 to 1848 the Roca-Seras and Ortolis of the Villaze of Sartene had their houses loopholed like fortress, and at times their inhabitants would have to stand a sieze for months, when the man who ventared to the window or opened. the door was lkely to be spotted from the premises opposite. Not lonz ago, a priest, who never ventured out save with his fi—nn on his shoulder and accompanied by is armed sextom, was shot dead at mass by his enemy, who was hidden fn the cun- fessional. ‘The eminent Paoh studied dur- ing the last century in a darkened ronm, where the window-shutters were lined with cork. He was besiczed in a coovent in 1756 by his enemies, and wonld have been killed bad not the mother of another ~ foe sent her son, Thomas Carnoui, to his rescae,” sacrificing her hatred to ber patriotism. In 1794, Andrea Romanetti shot dead, daring the carnival-festivities, the son of Marianna Pozzo diBorgo. The mother dressed hersclf in male attire, and with 3 posse of friends hunted the mur\krer so closely that e vffered to surrender if alfBwed to confess himself. She took him to the priest, knelt and prayed with him during’ his shrift, then ticd him to 2 tree and drew up her platoon, with their guns aimed at him, and, suddenly relesting, unbound and pardoned him. ‘The action lives in Corsican tradition, less be- cause of its wenerosity than for its singularity. There are parolanti, a sort of peacc-making magistrates, whose province it is to arrange such feuds, and the decisions, once prononnced, are usually obeyed; but a meeting for purposes of reconciliation as freqaently widens and in- teusifies the quarrel. The number of men in a fomily gives it an importance greater than the amount of wealth. Recently a young man de-; clined to marry a rich girl, preferring to wed a poorer one wlio had *sevesteen muskets in the family,”—i. ec., seventeen male relatives, who would be bound to defend the new member of the household in an emergency. CRAVEN STREET. Kalttmore Sun's London Letter. For 200 or more years Craven street has bgen a link between civic and aristocratic London. Before that it was a green lane and had a pen in it, and in this pen were placed unbelievers in Puritanism, and there they remained funtil re- pentance in the lane or the gibbet by * Eleanor’s Cross " terminated their heresy, Near the spot of this Puritan spouting and monarchical gib- beting stood the public stocks or pillory. There in the month of August, on a brizht Monday morning, 1685, that brazen, enormous rascal, Titus Oates, may have been seen with his villain- ous face frumed in the *“stock-joints,” with his hunds aod feet inthe *binders.” There ha rested his vagabond bones, s'ripped of blood- stained robes, and there he hemoaned over his well-whipped back on the rogues’ march from Aldgate to ‘I'yburn, while jeering crowds showered upon him rotten egesand gurbage. * There fn these stocks lanzuished au- other outrage upon society that the reader of Pope will remember as **Sir Peter Straoger,” alias Japhet Crook, He had his ears ciipped, Dhis postrils slit, and his forebead branded with “forgerer.” The reader who bas the oppor- tunity will filod in Hogarth’s Hlustrations some such scenes of Charing Cross. Here tthe fabri- cator of the *Cock Lane Ghost,” Parsons, in- dulged a taste of the pillory and became re- nowned as the first delineator of **spirit rap- inys.” Here lived Chaucer when Heary the ourth had his Royal stables on the spot imme- diately behind that architectaral abortion called the National Gallery. Count D'Orsay once had his quarters in this street, and Louis Napoleon frequentty dwelt with him before he rented the snug little bouse from the late Commissionar Charles Phillips, who demanded the banker Lafitte’s security for the rent before Louis Na- poleon entered No. 13 King street, St. James’. From this honse Napoleon bolted over to Paris onan eventful morning, leaving his books and papers ia confusioa, two days after he was Monsieur le President desla de France! Why Glass Is Broken by Hot Water. Soringfteld (Mass.) Repubdlican. No person could be 8o Toolish as to hazard the breakiog of 2 glass by pouring bot water upon it, if be understood the simple means of accounting for the breakage. I hot water i8 poured into a glass with a round bottom, the expangion produced by the heat of the wates will cause the bottom of the giass to enlarze, while the sides, which are not heated, recaim their former dimensions, and, consequently, if the heat besutficlently intense, the bottom “will be forced from the sides, and acrack or flaw will surround that part of the glass by which the- sides are onited to the bottom. If, however, the glass be previously wetted with a little warm water, €0 that the whole is gradually heated and thereby expanded, bolling water can then be poured in without damage. If a silver spoon is placed in a goblet or glass jar, boiling water can then he poured in without danger, unless the article has been taken from a frosty closet, and Is very cold. e —— The Cleverest and the Smartest. - New Orleans Picayune. The Begum of Bhopal is propounced ‘one of the cleverest women in India. The Chewguiq of Vassar is the smartest girl in New York,