Evening Star Newspaper, January 22, 1876, Page 3

TRADITION OF CONQU: His Grace of Mariborough, legends say, Though battie ligntnings proved his worth, Was scathed like others, in his day, By flercer fires at his own hearth. The patient chief, thus sadly tried— Madam the Duchess was so fair— Iu Bienheim’s honors felt less aad Than in the lady’s lovely hair. Once (shorn, she had coiled it there to woand Her lord when he shoul pass, "tis said) Shining across his path he found ‘The glory of the woman's head. No sudden word, no sullen look, In al! Bis after days, confessed He missed the charm whose absence took A sear’s pale shape within his breast. J think she lor, to have him blame, And soothe him with imperious tears— A> if her beauty were the same, He praised her her courteous years But when the soldier's arm was dust, Among the dead man’s treasures, where He laid 1t as from motn and rus! They found his way ward wife's sweet hair. Mrs 8. Mt B Piatt. The Galary for February. FOR LIFE OR DEATH. {Prom Chamber's Journal} You! pot do it and get in, young chap with heir on your head, [ tell you that; and mark ye, Britisher, ‘tis no town-bred greeo born whosaysit, buteld Joe Barton, that s foagh! Injuns and hunted buffer on th: Pisine afore you left your motuer’s sid, I ealeuiate. ‘Fain't to be done.” Hut. colonel —,” I put tn, «miiing, yet * not quite so muef at my ease as I desired to appear, for tmis tough old frontiersm sn, who remembered the foundation of the settle- mevt, was no light authority as to the prac lieability of such an enterprise as that which i had, perhaps rashly, uadertaken. ‘ “A Clear throwing away of life, that’s all,” erufity rejoined the veteran, as he stooped to pat the bound that Jumped up, wnimvering, to receive bis master's caress. “He that rides the lime to the headwaters of the Gila tow bas only to thank his own folly tf his rcalpuries in some pesky wigwam on th: prairie. Bat the '™m wasting words. A wilful lad, like @ half-broke mustang. ain't easy to hold back. Anyway, Master Harry Lyndham, I wish you well outof the ugly serape you have got into.” Cotonel Burton was by no means tae only friend who strove to dissuade me from my project, but =i word was pledged, my mint made up, and it only remained to complete the preparations for my burried and perilous journey. This was how matters stood with Harry Lyndham. one of the many Englishmen whom the hopes of grow- ing rich had drawn to the Far West of America, was then aresident of Tucson City, and a clerk in the employment of Cartis Brothers. The firn consisted of two old and Saal somewbat eccentrie men—old bachelor * ‘brothers—selfeducated, as well as, in the commercial sense of the word, self male, and Whose names were known and respected ~through all that wiid region that comprises Arizona, Montana, and the northern coun- ties of Texas. Oddly enough, it was because I was an Ox ford man that my then employers had given me the preference over @ score of cantidates, for, in truth, there was nothing that od Jonn and James Curtis so much prized as the learning which they had never had lelsure or opportunity t nor had they had oc casion to repen since I had servei them zealously the year, to have gained a high place tn m; while I liked them we jobbers, dealing in maize an: and jes, in tobacco, quicksilver, gun- r, and ‘‘notic and, above all, in attie, the great staple of the Far Southwest. t was not for bire alone that I toiled as I did, earning in Tucson—where immigrants from the Old Con: e seldom held of much account when compared with the dus- tling. pushing Yankee—the reputation o: mocel clerk, 4 rks are understoo i onat-of the-way ok of earth. My er * stimuins was that I was in love with pretty, charming Rosamord Gray, the daughter of old Mr. Gray, the bao tward of the Mimbre:, arket for the agrienitural roinee of the vast distrieis bordering on Mexico. In one sense [ was happy, tor ny love was returned; bot in another [ had met With what was alinost a repulse, since Mr. snd Mrs. Gray, although entertat personal objection to me as a son: were unwilling to bestow their daughter on any buta wealthy saitor. “Get rieh, Mr. Lyndham,” the banker had said naturediy, “and I see no reason why ond and Fou should not be happy according to your own fancy. But neither her mother nor I can sanction an uncoudi- tienal engagement.” Iwas i ey 's that I might take Mr.Gray’s advice, and by growing rich, or at jeast by acqaubing a competence, win Rosamond’s band. the prize that I valued above all earthly considerations; and such is the rapidity with whieh, in those argentiferous regions, fortunes are sometimes amassed, that I was not without warrant for aspira- tions which in Europe would perhaps have ser med futtle. ‘And now {o explain the present position of the firm the reasons for my undertakiog ® journey fraught, according to the rugge! ola militia colonel’s dictum, with almost certain disaster. Curtis Brothers, who, by a long course of judicious operations, had raised themselves from poverty to affluence, “nad at that time on hand a speculation of unusual importance. They had made, chiefly in Texas, very large purctiases of horned cat- Ue, sheep, and swine, destined to fext the swarming a of the sterile mining districts, where provisions, and meat in spe- cial, commanded bi ces. The invest- ment seemed the more likely to be prodtabie » Since the twin plagues of New Mexico, drought and iocusts. occasioned a nota- ble mortality among the cattle of Arizona and the adjoining territories, and great pe- cuniary returns were anticipated. All these calculations seemed upset by the sudden outbreak of dering Indian war which never quite comes toan end in that dangerous region. The Apaches, the irreclaimable foes of all white men were on the war path, leagued, as was Teported, with sundry other tribes, the Kio- Was, the Navajoes, and thedreaded Com: ches; and already hideous tales of [nd cruelty and massacre reacheu us from m lonely homestead witain reach of the tier. troo) 2 been hastily with. drawn; the caray: mat to traverse rairie had baltet i t was thought rash to venture more than a few miles beyond the cultivated country. Yet the day was at hand when the great herds of n and droves of swine, already urchased, would be waiting at Cristobal the completion of the bargain, and my employers were well aware that unless the cattle coukt be paid for in hard dollars, a fatal blow would be dealt to the credit of the firm. Messrs. Curtis had strained every BP onerve tocollect the ready money necessary. and the funds were forthcoming, but the entire scheme bade fair to b3 frustrated by the abrupt closing of the route, consequent on the war. No man, or party of armed men, could have been bribed to attempt the conveyance of the cas’ now haunted by the sav astonished my employe: to be the messenger. “You shati not baye to repent my bos!” said the eld ely to be it smoul- t, Harry, rT of the two brothers, as he wrang my hand in his ewn horny one. “You've stood manfu pineh, @nud we'd be mean ¢« niggers to trample on if we diin’t snow gratitude a little more substastialiy than bya few fair words. We never yet did raise a clerk to be partner, but There, there, Lyndham, “I did not intend to egg you on by an offer, asif you needed that,” hastily added gthe honest old fellow, fearlug. as he saw the color rise to my face, that I had taken um- brage at bis rough spec ome safe back to us, lad, and alt w be right.” Mr. James Curtis spoke words to much . the same eifect, at the same time b! ing nd ludesd it Was curious to 2gic lu my employers’ minds between their natural eagerness to escape a B finaecial wreck that almost amounted to ruin, and the Kindly apprehension leet I sbould lose my life in their service. As for myself, knew well enough how great was the risk | ran, and for how mo- * mentous a stake I was about toplay, and had not the goal before my mental vision been the bright prospect of calling Kosamoud y wife, even the prospective hip would hardiy have tempted me t> set offan errand so lous. As it was, I was resolv: t kuowledge of the country, which I had trav- ersed on four or five occasions, and was no novice in camping out,or in th? familiar incidents of prairie travel. I couid ride well, too, and was beiter mounted than most of the residents in that «istrict, where horse- Besh is cheap and pientifal, having in m: possessions Splendid chestnut Soroush 4 or: ly brought from Kentucky by some Unites States oMcer,and whicn was cale brated for stren and speed. I was fond of Sunbeam, and he of me. for he was docile and intelligent as well as swift,and woald fv low me for mile as & dog follows his owne: or stand, when I bade him, with the re banging loose upon L!s giossy necks. ‘There was a scanty time fcr leaye-taking. It was deep im the afternoon I started, & dozen or more of the younger citizens of ‘uscon riding with me for the first hal! our, and giving me a hearty cheer ay w parted. More than oue str righ aut trembled @ Little as it grasped mive in token | tare Ss in the honest ey the kine: of adieu, and there was an unwonted mois- wi-hed me “God. Well dol remember wheeling my steel ou a litle elevation in the rolling, flower-eoa elled prairie. and waving eg hat In answer to the waving of hats bandkerchiefs from the little knot of horsemen, not one of whom, lam sure,ever expected to sce me again on this side of the grave. Then I rne on, and lost sight of the friendly band of Weil-wirhbers. Tre heavy sultry heat seemed to enwrap There the iand like @ mantle. was not # breath to stir the ikl D| animal, the prairie dog, the stillness thst was Sas aeomre. Some taree hours after leaving Tucson I reigned up be- * d- the blue, bright waters ofa creek,; and slacking my "8 girth Iallowed him to drink freeiy, myself replenishing the metal cacteen that was slung at my saddle dow, for ip that desert land another opportunity of appeasing my thirst might nur readily o cur. And presently leaving the prairie we struck into @country still mor. junely and desolste, where the only sound was the thud of my horse's hoofs on the scorched aud barren earth. . r away to the left there glimmere! net the sky sometiing itke @ shirinz wall, imperfectly visible, wnich [ knew to b= the serra ei crests and mountain peaks o the Membres, the natural ‘astnesses where dwelt the barbarian tribes whose wreh and tomaha’ bad Jaid waste many @ bapps bome. Nor were momentwes of their hostti ity lacking, as I traversed the track—d-eply seamed by wagon wheels, and strewed wth the bleached bones of miles acd o.eu—tha did duty for a rout. Eight or nine times there loomed before me # cross, on whieh W&s Coar-ely painted in letters 1 Dlack or ret sometimes 4 name, more: fen mere initials, follow:d by the simple inseription, “Killed by the “Apaches " "rhe sun went down, the dew glistened on the rank herbage and tufts of the wild sage, and a welcome breeze cooled the beated air. while the broad, bright moon, like @ silver sbieid, rose to shed her chastened light over the vast expanse of prairie. Onw: I rode, until at length tn @ sort of oasis, where water ass and trees were to be found, I se- it my camping-place for thenight. With dawn I was again in the saddle, nor did any incident during that day's journey or the next vary the monotony of prairie travel Water was met with, sparipgly, indeed, ant of poor quality, but the brackish and tarbid draught any rate sufficed to allay that tormenting thirst which is the great terror of the solitary wayfarer on those burniug plains. Wherever there was water, too, there was pasture for my horse; while for my own sustenance I was provided with a tiny store of wild bull-beef, cut in strips and dried in the sun, in Mexican fashion, and with a vag of — maize-cobs. These, with a flask of French brandy, @ Spanish poncho, and ammunition for my carbine and revolver, made up all my equipment, save only my canteen with iis tin cup and the leathern saddle-bags wherein were stowed the gold and greenbacks destived to redeem the credit of Curtis Brothers with their creditors at Cristobal. On the evening of the third day I baited in a well-watered dell near the head of & creek. and at a distance, as | computed, of 120 miles from Tucson.’ Eighty mites more, At most, would carry me to Fort Web- ster; and once aeross the Gila I should be safe, and could make certain of completing my journey to Cristobal. Hitherto [ had met with no living soul, friendly or hostile More than once I had fancied that on the verge of the dim horizon I had caught a glimpse of tail spears and feathered heads. end on one occasion I had beheid a distant © oud of dust arise from the bare brown sur- face of the desert; but this might as easily bave been occasioned by the passage of a herd of bison or of wild horses, as of the Apaches or their allies. My spirits rose as I proceeded on my way, and I began to feel confident of success. On that night, lying wrapped in my pon- cho, with my saddle for a pillow.and mv Ps S within reach, Ldreamed I was at ¢ gain, in oid England. da boy once sore, for I Saw my sisters’ faces around me, d those of my former friends and play- mates long dispersed, when sud: enly f was aroused by the shrill, eager nels hing of my horse, tethered hard by, antl, waking with astart, opened my eyes to encounter the fieree eyes glaring upon me from a hideous painted face, bending over mine, and so close as well-nigh to touch it. Ifelfan In- ¢ s hot breath upon my cheek, as he ped over me, while of bis pur there be Little doubt, for, as I could see by the t of the dying watchfire, he was ( smeared With war paint, and ofle hand held aglittering kuife. As I started up and grasped the butt of the revolver lyin: be: eath my head, the Indian's other han eluicned me by the wrist, while again my steed nelghed Shrilly, and’as I prop; my- self on ¢ knee I could see that Sunbeam was plunging and rearivg violently, while two dark lorms were gliding about the spot Where the horse was fastened, aj intent on unfastening the long tet whiecb he was haltered to the ground. There are fused recollections of which aT is never able afterwards wholly to unravel the tangled thread. I remember a brief, sbarp struggle, during . hich I twice received # slight graze from the knife that the Apache carried, and then wy right wrist was freed from the hand that gras) it, and the sharp crack of the pistol, as mere successively fired, broke the stillness. Then almost immediately I heard the thad of galloping hoofsupon the crisp turf of the — saw two mouated men, whose attering blankets and rlumed heads pro- claimed their nationality, ride off into the darkness. At my feet lay my first assail- hand, when I lifted it, fell back to earth, and his grim features, bedaubed with streaks of yellow, white, and black, were stiffening fast in death. The two eagies feathers fastened by a silver brooch to his jong black; hair denoted that he had been a ebiefor principal warrior, whjie the paint and tattooin, A oeappee him to belong to the great tribe of the Apaches. My great source of anxiety now was lest the two braves who had escaped should have comrades within reach, and 1 at once decided that to press on was my wisest policy. It Was now the dark, chill hour that precedes the dawn, but saddling Sunbeam, whom i found fretful and agitated, after his recent ‘view with the red robbers, I resumed ni Up to this time I’ had spared horse, but now heavy as was the sickly 7 and long as were the hours to be traversing the brown, desolate plain, grass or water, I urged Sunbeam on, nlog peaks of the Mimbres becoming Toore and more distiuctly visible as we sped t n Our Way. Poor Sunbeam showed for ® first time signs of distress when we halted beside astream, the brackish waters of which seemed to burn thirsty lips that craved for them; but we were now, as I com BE 1, within three hours of the River Gila, ond which was safety. he stertie. stony desert which spread itself befere me when, on the next morot jaded steed and 1 again set forth uj lrack, was almost hare of verdure. drought and the heat of the scor had withered every a blade, while pools 4 creeks which ought to have been full of et pure water were now mere belis of ie, or hollows paved with dried clay. I ‘ed the last drops of the precious fata I ried in mny canteen, and the last of the bleached corn, With Sunbeam, and the good horse seemed as though he was grateful for and understood the kindness, fur he rubbed bis velvet muzzle caressingly against my hand as I stroked his neck, no longer slesk and smooth as satin, for fatigue and priva- t bad roughened his coat and dimmed the fire of his eye. Suddenly, as I stood best him, 1 looked back, aud saw what » for the moment, my very heart cease to beat, as if an icy touch had frozen the blood in my vetns. piumed heads and wild forms, ids and seariet biankets or baffalo robes were distinctly to be seen, were crowded together at the top of a rising ground, com- ing yver the prairie at the easy, swinging gallop which @ mustang can keep up for half # day. AsIset my footin the stirrup lb. ped into my saddie the Indians, silent ull then, set up thetr fearfal war whoop, and with yells and frantic gestures lashed on their steeds and took up the pursuit with a fury that sufficiently indicated what would be my fate should I be overtaken. Then be- gan a desperate contest—a race for life or death. Sunbeam answered gallantly tomy call, and for the first four or five milés I saw little of the enemy; buton they came lessly, and soon seemed to gain ground. Had it been on the first day of the journey I could have laughed atmy juers, but mow the ©: pertority of horse in stride and thecomparat! le strength was neutrahzed by freshness of the Apsclhes were mounted, Sunbeam flag beneath Lim oh with voice and band. Miles upon miles of roliing traversed, my horse keeping lead, and Speeding on with ety unabated, but siagering as he went, bearing heavil Op the bit as we descended the frequen slopes. The Indians saw their advantage, aud pressed on, making every effort to come up with me. One arrow siightly wouaded horse In the neck; a second my making me feel as though @ hot tron been drawn across it. I bear the thin, lue sear to this . Bat maddened with exeltement I spni Sunbeam on, shook off the pursuers for while, and presently saw leaning before me the waters of a sw! ft! y- flow! river, which could be no other Wan rairie were ie the Gila; while beyond it rose the stockaded walls of @ lonely bullding—Fort Webster, lonbtless. “On, Sunbeam, on! One more effort, brave horse—oue more, and we are safe!” pig a Sp og gre ere eee was 6 ffeoraetnmsantwidh Sala" a oat ie ie , AB, of Lowery rs ymca the Indians came racing on , Thirty yards before me lay the river, but it was too deep a for ® man readily to swim or wade, though I was weary and worn, yet I could not bear to abandon life while a chance remained. My pistol was in my belt, bat my carbine was strapped to the saddle «1 the dead horse, and so were the begs which held the money of Curtis Brot! ers, and tneee I ee ~ cheng as ad Scar ty prospect iD; pri fe so bear were the rutbless foes. ey were but six lances’ length away from me &s I plunged into the brush wood, intend- ing to take shelter among the tall reeds of tbe bank, in the faint hope that the clamors of the Apaches might bring out the from the fort. To my great joy, however,on reachi: g the river bank 1 bebeld, moored to the stem of @ mimosa tree, a canoe, contain- jug fishing tackle, and probably belonging to the garrison; and, leaping into it, Ise! the paddles and pushed off into the middle of the stream justas four or five of the In- dians. who had dismounted, came bursting through the bushes, kdife and tomahawk in hend. The river ran swiftand I was inexpert in Ue management of # canoe; but the Indians fortunately hesitated to take the river, no doubt on accountof the vicinity of the fort, and although they pursued me with fierce shouts and volleys of arrows, only one of the latter hit me, inflicting @ slight wound on my left wrist; while the wele me sound ofa cbeer and the discharge of a rifle from the further bank told that the Indian war whoop had attracted the notice of the soldiers, of whore weapons the Apaches stood in whole- some awe. I was soon among friendly faces, although so exhausted was I with fatigue and emotion that I fainted before reaching Fort Webster. My story, thus hastily narrated, is nearly atanend. The kindness of the commanding officer at the fort enabled me to push on, so soon as refreshment had semewhat restored my vigor; and I reached Cristobal without further hindrance or peril, and was in time to save the credit of the firm whose represen- tative I was, and to allay the surly suspi- cions of the haif-wild Mexican and Texan cattle-farmers, who were already beginning to chafe and murmur at the delay. The oxen and other live stock, some weeks later, were sent along with @ wagon train that trav- eied under a stro escort of the United States ppeore# to Tucson; and I should have availed myselfof the opportunity to retarn bad not an attack of fever, brought on by anxiety and over exertion, prostrated me for a time, although youth and a robust con- stitution enabled me to shake tt off. Iwas still very pale and weak, and was sitting listlessly among the ‘magnolia busbes and coffeeshrubs in the garden of the little inn, when I saw Rosamond and Mrs. Gray, whose kindness to me during my iiness had been unremitting, approaching me with joy fal loos. “Can you bear goot news, Marry?” asked the latter, smiling; and indeea the tidings were very good ones. My quaint, worthy old employers had been better than their wort, having not merely taken me into part- nership, in recompense for what I had done op their beh If, but appointed me thelr resi- dent agent at Cristobal, a far healthier and more pleasant place than Tucson, with a sbare tn the profits of the firm that was only too liberal. I have every prospect of 5 t competence and ultimate wealth, while e:gagement to Rosamond Gray is very shortly to he bronght toa bappy conelasiou; bot in the midst of my new-found prosperity a saddening recollection will sometimes ob- trude itself, as I remember the faituful, ¢umb friend whose bones are whiteniog on the banks of the Gila. THREE-CARD NTE How the Trick is Worked— Gambling on the Green, {Prom the Terra Haute Express } “So you don’t know anything about three. card monte, eh? Now just wait a minute. and I'll show yousomething. Hereare three business cards, al! alike. I'll take the plain side of them, and on this one I'l! mark a pod Found ‘pot with a pen. Now wa'cb close.” These remarks were addressed to an Ex- pres# representative a few evenings since, ¥ & young man who bad been known to the “profession” as one of the most daring young confidence men and three-card throwers ia the country, who had been induest by the writer to give him a history of his career, and an insight into the modus operandi of the me. eeTNow,” he continued, “I take this card so, and place it on the table. This is the one With the mark on it. I put the two otherscon either side of it, and you can turn It up now and look for yourself.” The reporterdid so. Sure enough, the mid- dle card bad the spot. Now, again, I take up this card slowly, and throw it over in the place of the other, @@d transfer the one on the lest to the piace of the one on the right, and the mar! one is pow on the left instead of being in the middle, insn’t it?” ht that hb on e Feporter thoug! at such was the percooes : remarked that there was no doubt about it. “Pick it up, and see,” said “Slippery Ned.” The reporter turned over the card. It was a blank. He also turned the middle, with a like result, and found the marked spot on the last card to the right. “There,” said Ned, HE pes see if you'd had £1,000 bet on that, you'd been left, wouldu’t ou?” The Express writer was forced to admit that such would have been the result, but also made @ mental reservation tg the effect that whenever he became the of $1,600 he wouldn't bet it on any kind of a gaine, you bet. “Try itagain,” urged Ned. The reporter did so with the same result, although in each case the motion of Ned’s fingers were slow and deliberate. “I'll show you,” said he. “I take thiscard With the spot on it, and bending it like the others, pul it in my fingers. I make a mo- tion as though I were throwing it out, but I merely shove it quickly down, and throw oulthe next card toit. You ee your eye on the one thrown out, thinking it is theone which is marked, or ina regular way, the ace, and there you get leftagain. Now let me show you.” And ina few moments it was so well explained that the reporter haa bardly any trouble in picking up the prope r card.” Then the operator smutted the corner of a Card a little and gave an illustration of that proceeding. When ali this was fully explained the re- porter proceeded to get some information concerning the mode of living by these oper- ators. you see,” said Ned, “I used to be pretty well up in the business, although I was young in years. Ked John first got hold of ime in New York, where I was playing mar- bles on the street, and he thinking I would make & good subject, started out with me. I fuypose I've attend pearly every county teir in Ube country with that fellow. He first bad me into business as capper, and { Worked into bis hands well, I can tell you. Hie always whacked up too, you ‘bet. Always honor among thieves you know, and nong the Cae we were, too. Hi yr we coukin’t have run the business. But finally I concluded tojgo in on my own hook; so one season I lett New York in July, to work up the farmer fairs from that time on: I bad two cappers, and right good fellows they were. They would drive mein hun- dreds of greenies, and then I used to soak ‘em. Teli you how we used to doit. 8 aT into @ fairground, and get license from officers to run a } ry case. Receiving = Maistion we set up @ Jewelry case with @ little eer in it, and under pretence of shouting for sales brought up the crowd. as we got them together out came a board, and down I went on the roa. pre- tending to have a little fun all to myself. Pretty soon a country fellow would sit down near me, and ask: “What you got thar?” Of course I answered him in @ way to lead im on. “O®, just a little game with some fun in it.” His curiosity ing, excited, his next Tequest was to see & little of it, and as that Was just what I wanted, I drove m: ning wedge by throwing the cards a littie, letting him pick out the ace every time. When convinced that I had him on my string, I remarked: * Boss, I'll bet you a quarter you can’t pick out the ace.” “Dove,” says he, and he threw down a 25- cent shinplaster. He wins, of course; [ allow him to win again, and again. Then he feels elated; puts down 310, and wins again; $20, and still-wins, if I think he has any more, down goes $30. ‘This time I win, and the noble Granger is busted, 4 thunder! “But don’t une Limes, little game. Tell beaten men at apples is rather dig. The ey who take whisky, straight or crooked, or gin ¢.ck-tails before regard article of fod. What an outcry goes up if there is prospect of a failure in the Lato | { crop, and ape very little is said of the of a dearth of mcg shows & f @ trfie apprec! of the fruit. Notovly is it more Lourishing than the potatoe, but it contains acids, mild and gentle, as well as pleasing to the taste,which act in a be: e‘licent msénver upon the whole animal econom: An appie-eater is very rarely either et. tic or bilious. The appie is also tonic in quality, andcontains phosphorus in greater wantity than any other vegetable does. ‘herefore it is @ most fitting and desirable article of diet for us Americans, who live in such @ state of mental excitement, and are so ludisposed to bodily exertion. It feeds the brain aud stimulates the liver, which is just what we need. ature, as if knowing that such would be our national temperament and such our hy - gienic reeds, has given the =. in this country a development which it has attained nowhere else. There are no apples to be com- pared with American apples, either in size or in flayor. This fruit is one of the few things | that we brought from England which have improved upon our roil. Its excellence is so great bere and £0 tern, ea rig it may be al- most called our pation: t. And yet there are signs that its culti jon is falling into neglect. Theapple orehards which lay around the old farm houses, beautifying them in the *pring and enriching them in the autumn, are dying out, or have died out, and no sufli- cient measures seem to have been taken to supply their places, The greening, the pip- pin, the spilzenberg, and other varieties almost worthy to be named with them, are diminishing in numbers and deteriorating in quality; and those which are offered instead of them are coarse, flashy things, lacking flavor and substance. The fruit growers’ at- tention seems of late to be concentrated upon the pear, which takes very great airs upou itseif, both at the fruiter's and upon the tuble.’ It is coddled and wrapped up, and has very bigh and mighty names given to it, and is very costly; and consequently itseem to be cibowing the apple out of the market. This Is to be deplored; for, admitting tne ae lielousness of the pear, aud giving itall the | The Arroya Bi y feet, high respect whieh is its due, we should not forget that for its real worth itis not to be named with the apple. The pear is @ mere lua ury of the palate, having, to be sure, the desirable stomachic qualities that beloug to all fresh acid fruits. But the apple has sub. | Staniiai merits. Itis food, nourishi stimulating both lo mind and body. it isa comestic fruit; homely, yet rich aad bean. tiful and vigorous, like’so many homeiy things, among them the homely yraces anid virtues. It is the roast beefof fruits. We could bi tier spare them all, except, perhaps, the strawberry in its season, than we coula spare the apple. And yet the strawberry is merely ephemeral; the apple lasts te year round, to feed us and tocheer us by its pecu lar coirective and stimulating qualities. Moreover, the apple produces cider, a bev- erage which ought lo be far more commonly used and more cheaply obtained than it is, Guod cider used to be as common in the Northern Atiantic states, and particularly in New England and in New Jersey, as good mils—almost as good water. It was drank daily, as generally three times a day, not | only by the rural population, but by thos» in the towns. It was cheap, 40 cheap the poorest people a is the rarest be It is almost ur Now good cider that one can seareh for. bie; aod, when found, it is very de: ting about three times ‘as much as wine does in the wine countries of Europe. This ought not to be, and it need not be. Cider has qualities which make it, in mcderation, a most desirable beverage yo US, aud it has virtues which give it @ very great and a specific value 1: one of the most painful and distress- log diseases to which the male sex is subjeet. But the cider that is generally of. fred is not f% for any one to drink. It is made without care, of refuse apples, the de- cay in which is to be plainly tasted ‘in their Juice. even after fermentation. It is negiect- ed, and becomes sour and offensive. The con- se pee Is that there is@ prospect of its dis app a:ance in the wake of perry, a beverage made from pear juice, of which most of our readers probably never heard, and which probably none of them ever tasted. They have not lost much. Itis not to be named with cider in flavor or in any other good quality, and we sincerely hope that the pear is not to have its a wy pz driving out the cider- producing fruit. 'e Know that apple orchards are siow ip reaching maturity, but the production of good apples in such quan- tty as to make them gy ara not fail to be remunerative to the fruit-grower. Toe need which the — supplies can be sup- [aed by no other fruit—we may say almost y BO other vegetable product. The Profits on Gas. The gas question is frequently discussed by our exchanges of other cities. The enor- mous profits t have harvested by gas companies have not failed to attract the attention of consumers, and the cost ani profits of gas have been carefully and accu- rately calculated. We have before us a brief article from the St. Louis Times, showing that the profits of the St. Louis Gas Light Company for the less than five millions of dollars, while the actual capital invested in the company never exceeded forty thousand dollars. The enormous disproportion between investment ard return is thus seen at a glance. The Times, to show how thesegains accumulate , takes the official statement of the Pittsburg Gas Company, showing the distribution of nine thousand cubic feet of gas for each ton of coal,and then pub‘ishes a table of mate- rials and their cost at St.Louis. We give this table asof interest. Tomake nine thou- sand feet of gas there are required: One ton of coal} (at St. Louis) One bushel of lime... Lal | these 0 that | t ten years have been ne | Tnteresi on $1,000,000 capital $8 50 Two bushels of coal produce three bushels of coke, the works consuming one-half of the —. The remainder is sold in St. uis at the rate of twelve cents Se, for each ton of coal carboni: pany realizes $2.40, and to this is added the price of coal tar. Deducting $2.80, the pro- ceeds of coke and tar, we have the cost of mapufacturing nine thousand feet of gas in St. Louis reduced to $5.70, while the consum- ers pay for that amount of gas $29.25 The rate in St. Louis is $3.25 per thousand; while the actual cost to the company is a fraction Jess than sixty-four cents per thousand, thus givinga it of £2.51 for every thousaud manufactured.— Augusta Chronicle. F RAILROAD OVER THE ANDES. Wonter- Trip to the Unpteasant Sensations— Harry Meigg: (Correspondence San Francisco Bulletin.} Lima, October 27, 1875, UP THE ANDES. Ho, for the summit of the Andes! and let bim who wi id not fall by the wayside | his system with Pills the da; tenes Looe strong drinks and eat for the bloody * " Hein am- thousand and above eight thousand feet the ‘soroehe” * 4 it mid-day above thesnow line. But our way is ro longer the slow but pic- tar sque mule trail, on which the traveler of jays had De the river benk; now winding his way up the st mouvtain side, barren of trees and life, now hang!ng on the face of the precipice, thou- sands of feet above the roaring Rimac at its base; ard row swinging to mid air on one of the frail structures that were used for cross- ing its waters. No. Science and American energy and +kill have leveled a highway Ubrc ugh this wilderness of mountains, and the Ureless iron borse not w putts at the impossibilities of the past, and, in a day's time, aceomplishes the irney of feeks before. No time for adaptation to we . the mighty changes of *he hour, for in halfa aay you have raseed from the sea shore to fifteen thousand six bundred and forty-five feet above it. Enough atmospheric pressure bas been displaced the age to burst your body into fragments if it had been in- Staptaneously removed. The lofty domes and craggy peaks that rise in endless confusion before you, until the blue line of the heavens seem: almost over- head, are the next hour below you, and you are again confronted by others equally high and apparently equally impassable; and 80 on to bear the summit, where the blue line spreads out on the right and on the left, and meng falls off from the zenith, until the jalena tunnel, 3,860 feet long, through which the road passes the summit. shuts out the light of day and divides the waters that flow to the Pacificon the west, and to the Atlantic on the east. ENGINEERING DIFFICULTIES—TRIUMPHS. Who can comprehend this mighty work in one trip, or in fifty trips? You have passed over one hundred and four miles of railroad from the sea shore to the summit—perhaps bot over eighty as the mule trail goes—and nearly half that distance has been over the broad plain of Lima and up the open valle: of the Rimac, without any serious obstacle to overcome, and with a rise that amounts to less than five thousand feet. In the re- maining fifty-five miles you pass through sixty tunnels, and in many of them through rocks s0 hard that the core of the diamond drill used in their construction, scores glass @s readily as the point of the diamond itsel! More than a tunnel to each mile, and in total length within a fraction of five miles, or one- eleventh of the whole distance. Nor is this all. Above the mouth of some of these tun- nels are yet to be seen the ropes fastened for bundreds of feet to the face of the precipice by means of which the engineers had first to lower themselves, and while swingt in mid-air locate the place, and afterwards the men, to begin the work of excavation and make for themselves a foothold in the per- pendicular face of the solid rock. Ata place calied the “Inflernillas (Little Hells) the road crosses the river on an iron bridge, one hundred and sixty feet long and a hundred ard sixty-five feetabove the water. Both ends of this bridge spring from the smooth face of Opposing precipices, that rise in sheer perpendicular height from two to three thourand feet. The tunnels of approach | are Unrough the solid rock, as most of the tunneis ou the road have eunes, and in some lustances reverse cunes. Emerging from the upper tunnel the road cecupies the river bed, and avother tunnel was cut through the point of anoth ice to make passage ; ere roar érd tumble or re from forty to from *% fifty. varying hundred ‘and fifty twenty to six hundred feet, on the solid rock itself, or on m .oury equally | stro The approach to tae * Varragas” bridge, the highest bridge in the world, is throuch a cut # hundred and five feet on one side. and sixty feeton the other. This bridge has three piers of iron net-work, one hun- dred and ninety-seven, two hundred and firty-two and one hundred and forty-six feet high, respectively. Seen at some distance, in the morning Hght, from the bottom of the ravine it spans, it looks like the work of fairies in the night in its delicate an metrical tracery; but, once upon it, it as solid as the rocks upon which ji stands. In filling up and hewisg down the alter- nating gorges and spurs of the mountain side, you encounter fills with a center depth of one hundred and sixty feet, and cuts in the solid rock of even greater depth, and these often where the sides of the mountain are so steep that the lower slope of the em bankment extends to the river, seve ral hun dred feet below, and the upper slop2 of the cut several hundreds of feet up the sftie of the mountain. SOME ASTONISHING GRADES AND CURVES Buttn butiding this road the appareatiy insoluble problems of @enstruction were not confined to these unpasulleled cuttings, fills. bridges and tunnels; but even with the ad vantage of the steep grades of three and four per ceut. (maximum 211 feet to the mile) allowed, accordivg to radius of curves (aad this part of the road is nearly all carves) the most serious problem of all for the en- gineers’ solution was how to gain height Within the straightened limits of the quel- rada, to which nature has restricted the very possibility of a road over these abrupt moun- tains. Taking advan: of the mountain side, at places where least obstacles were encountered, or availing themselves of some confiuent quelrada, which the ice of former @ges had scooy out, when the Andean chain bt ry aps, several thousand feet higher than it is now, the engineers of the inaugurated a system of developments, a8 they are called, by means of which they gain altitude at the expense of length of roud-bed. In other words, the road, either by a curve where it is possible, but oftener by means of a < doubles on itself and by running back from one to several miles, but always upa steep grade, which, contrasted With the parallel N lines above or below, give the appearance of running up an in- clined plane; and then, by means of another curve, or < retakes its nominal direction, and winds its way along to the level of the river again. In this way a gain is often effected of one-one foot vertically for every foot, or foot and a half, the lines are apsrt horizontally; and nothing shows more forcibly than this, the extreme steepness of the mountain sides traversed vy this road. But to express it in the actual Dgures of the developments themselves: At San Bartolome where the first development 1s met with, the distance ran from the point where the road doubles on its track by means of @ < until it comes back toa par- allel point higher up the mountain side, is three and one-third miles, and the gain in vertical height is 545 feet, and the distance a@part horizontally of the two lines at these points is only 855 feet. On what is known as the Parac development, where advantage is taken of @ confluent queirada, the distance run is about the same, but the gain in verti- cal height is 535 feet, while the horizontal distance between the tracks at the same points is only 465 feet, showing an average slope steeper than one to one, or foot for foot. Of these cevelopments there are nine before reaching the summit, and by means of them again of four thousand feet of aititude is made at the expense of twenty-three miles of extra road-bed. In two of these develop. ments _ see two tunnels, one right above the other, through the same spur of the mountain, through which the road has to twice in doubling on itself aud retura- 3 to its normal direction. last development, except one smali one, before reaching the summit, is on the road crosses the grandest scale. Here the 81 systems of it, bat to be must Serene ot aera road Bartolome to the summit. No wonder some twenty odd neers were occupied over four years in itand in working out the const as bac concept sot ifs pelgnttor tie ve seen ve no adequate ton of ii of ite ar: a" ec or of its eee = +4 ‘ited brought out and in its place without a accident. iOther i | EERE? efisie Edie 5 ittbol ete Fe] é ie id Ege? ig? ite i i 5g 5% z i [ Ht Mountains, and these correspond with Winter months in the United for both man aad SOME UNPLEASANT SENSATIONS. When within about a mile of the summit, We were suddenly siruck in the face witha scalding breath from off the snow, which made us instinctively try to protect it w'ih our bands, and caused one of the party to ery out, “My God, I'm blind.” [t did not last over ten minutes, but ils effects nave lasted for days since; and is not how do you feel, but bow do you feel since our retarn. Fortunately I had glasses on, and tuus saved my eyes. others were not so fortunate, and 1b returning to the city next day looked ‘fas if they were returning from the funeral of their grandfather or some other near rela- tive. At the summit our pulses ranged from @ hundred and ten to a hundred and forty, just what they ought to be, with the reduc: ton of near seven pounds to the square inch of a, and at Auch! from ninety to one hundred and ten, which was also vatural. But oursecond night at Auchi ny pulse ran up to one and J thought my bundred and sixty, head would burst with the Pressing torrent of bloct my overtaxed heart was forcing through it and other parts of my system that offered the least resistance. Hot water to my feet aud cold <p e to my bead relieved me partially, and a lower altitade next morning effected a cure and restored the ap- petites of the party. ASPLENDID ROAD—HARRY MFIGGS. I never traveled on a better road, nor on one in smoother running orner. Through pearly all cunes from San Bartholome te curvature is so perfect, and the rails so se curely bolted together with ros of iron, and 80 solidly spiked down, that there is no room for motion, except the tangential fore, which, when the train is going fast, keeps the passenger on the qui vive, or rather sway- ing from one side to the other. And to whom does Peru and the world owe this wonder of the present age, this supreme triumph of engineering, this practical solution of the insoluble problem of the Andes since the days of Pizarro? To Henry Meigs, our countryman, more than to all other ‘men. He had the comprehensive mind to grasp the problems, and the sublime daring to under- lake thelr solution before a singleone had been worked out. To his sublime faith in bimself nothing seemed impossible, and re- sults have more than justided him. After bim. to his brother Joha, the executive head of their immense business in Pe: By Mr. Meigg»’ noble disinterestedness, by his Princely hospitality, by his magnanimous y, he conquered the prejudices ot and won for the Americans of the tex a piace @ honoravie as that of i Therefore, Isay in con- et the dark shadows of the past tee hand that was raised to smite be extended to welcome the man who has lifted up and muce boncrable tbe name of our common | country in @ land where it was before bu litte thougnt of, if not despised. Pgrtrwar. Naked for Forty Years. Incredible as the following m says the Carleton Place Heraid, it isan au thentic fact, to which hundreis can bear testimony Abont forty years agoa young man nam- ed Wilson, residing near the town of Perth, conceived the lunatic idea of leading a her- mit’s \ife. The youth had from his early age sbowed symptoms of derangement, and this proceeding on his part was not consideret strange by his friends. The chosen place of his hermitage was about three-quarters of @ mile from his parental homestead, ta the reciss Of a deuse bush, where he erected a small bovel. ard furvished 1t witn an old log canoe, which he used asa conch to sleep in. Divesting bimeeif of ali clothing he has ever since remainded perfectly nude, with @ tattered remnant of a faney jeads him to retain. for foriy years he has liv. ed, walking in the depth of winter Unrough the snow, and yet he has never been known to have received a frost bite. When he re quires a drink be walks deliberately into the river, it mattering not tohim what season of the year it may be, and wades out till the waterreaches his waist, and then he stooj and quencbes his thirst. His food is brought to him by his friends, and when given to bim is eaten with the voraciousness of an animal, which be now resembles more than man, his body being heavily coated witu bairas that of a cow. He never shows a dangerous disposition, and chatters in monosyllables. When people cross his path he invariable begs for tobacco, for which he has an evident partiality, and chattering tones will utter “bacca” until bis request is granted. His hatr is long, gray, and un- kempt, falling far over his shoulders, and his beard, which is similar, reaches below his waist. He is now between 69 and 70 years of age, and is possible theonly living being ever known to have lived year after = perfectly naked and exposed to all the nelemencies of the weather which mark our Canadian winters. How American Women Are [nsuited in Milan. [Brooklyn Eagle's Milan Oorrespowlence.) The Milanese ladies donot promenaie the Streets singiy, save in rare cases; they are generally accompanied by @ companion their own sex—motber or sister, or, if with a gentieman, he is generaily husband, father or brother. It is not considered the thing for a Milanese lady to promenade tne street with a gentleman not a relation. Certain it is that, when once is seen alc she is apt to beaccosted by every Italia she meets. American and Englisn ladie: and particularly the former, are to insult and annoyance from the Milan tiemen (7), who think nothing of walk- ing up to and accosting them as familiari 4s they would a member of the deri-mon on Broadway. This is the result of tne Uon of some American girls who have be students of music here atdivers ti who, away from home, acted In s disgrace and contume American woma' Italian does not think he Insults an Amer!- can lady by inviting her to become his mis- tress, even if he has not had the slightest en- couragement to make such a proposition American ladies who come bere to stuly music seem to them to be fair game, and if they are without protection they are parsued remorselessiy, and they either succumb, or are glad to fiee from the city to save tel: reputation. A case in point was relate’ to me a few days ago, where an estimable and handsome young American lady was perse- cuted by a wealthy Baron here, who, finding Unat bis advances were treated THE FRENCH have recently been improv- the twas of their soldiers. [ the celebrated fa: TE seers Herd ii; fi v re the bright suniicht of to-day. and the | | y appear, | {00 vere OsL100 6 4 roper | ioe Wate Wood Spencer Seat yt worn 6 Seeucy for tbe Mee Fa essen Shirts. ot pe ARGAIWS' BARGAT counter devoted to Drem Goods, clos at ia ard “t-inch All wool Plaids reduced to Tée., worth ia. ot hions, cheap! Androscoggin, We . Wameutte, J Me, 5 = joene, worth @e Were Wael 931 PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE. Just recelved and now opening. a full Ine of GOODS FOB EVENING Wag, Ip Light Silk». Orapes, Tutles, Organdies, Geuze Chambrys, Muslin Orerdecsese pS —4 Tread Lace Flounces Castmere and Spanish Laces. Breulng Costumes ip Silk. S7-Our customers will find our stock tn this tine varied aud attractive Curing the seas daily making edditions. a BF One Price, from which no change will be mage, JOHN FT. MITCHELA, janis 1 31 Pennsylvanis avenge. BeODuEAD & Co. OFFER AT THEIR BRANCH STORE, 1205 F STREET, Berweres 1210 13TH Sraeers, (OLD STAND, LYON3 BLACK SILK, $1 and up. BEST PRINTS, So WAMSUTTA BLEACHED COTTON, 2X0. CANTON FLANNEL, So. and ap. SWISS MUSLIM, 120. and up. TABLETANES, 200. and up. KID GLOVES, 1 Button, tc. (jod tot.) KID GLOVES, 2 Botton, 750.,(job lot.) KID GLOVES, 3 Button, $1 55, (atl colors.) FULL LINES OF DRY @OUD3, KOSIEBY, UNDERWEAR AND NOTIVSS, AT CORRESPONDINGLY LOW PRICES, janl3 tr ERB BLACK GROS GuALN BILLA — wut Biack Velvet 2. at the cf ce city, CONNOLLY S, 60% Sth strest, te Patent off =e yandl-tr oP H48D TIMES AND HARD PRICES, ia yards of goed UNBLEACHED COTTON, Tox yards ol yard wide UNBLEACHED COT- S00 yards of yard wide BLEAUEBD COTTON 7. 180 yards of one vard and « querter BLEAUHED COTTON. 2 ites two ands yuarter wide SHEETING On, 3. 00: CARTER‘S, 707 Market Space, 62,75, BLACK ALPACA at «con 91.38.91 me 9178 cour BHAWLS and ANSETS et cost, 30, $2 W and $2.0 0 yards vere BLEACHED DAMASE, @. 800 yards of the best feather proof tok, 35. janll tr or. Good Towels? ; all-lined H’t kchivfs. 6 BINO UNDEGWEAB toe in urder to close cat on pest store in the city. Patent office the cl Mh erect opposite Notice. Prior totaking our ennusl inventory, we will, rhinty ats ONLY offer sar oF ENTIRE STOCK OF ecops AT A MERE Tnelud ing five cases Genuine Wemerctts VOTTO! ive e that are made, at Sc., 8¢., S¢., Se. Three oases to 64C., Cgc. O40 , 6 Three, 7 BL Fruit of . 4 Forty pieces SOUTOH MIXED PLAIDS, tn seal 5 ©. 13e.. 1c, 130. BLEACHED COTTON, at 5 id BLAUK ALPACAB st utes ee sezss HE SALANCE OF OD CARPETS WE WILL CLOSE OUT AT ABOUT C an Biannets at Cost, from $280, 3, $3.40, a Twenty dozen FELT SKIRTS, reduced to S5c. TOWSON ry VENUE tr 636 PEN SSYLNANIA | CHRISTMAS GOODS. BUY USEFUL ARTICLES roR THE HOLIDAYS. LADIES’ CLOAKS, SHAWLS, $3.00, worth 66 90. CAMELS HAIS SHAWLS, ail prices, BROCHE SH4 WLS, all prices, SILK MUFFLEBS, cheap ang elegant. LINEN HaSDK ERCBIRPS, 6 cons. GLOVES in great variety. HOSIKEY AND ENDEBWEAB very cheap. ELACK BILKS, @1.00 per yard. PLACK CASUMERES, 65 conte per yard, FULL ASS -RTMENT DRESS GOODS, st 6 or yard and upwards, EVERYTHING CHEAP FOR THE HOLI- DAYS. J. CG, WISWALL 40o, Gect3 tr Bo. 310 7th street. near Pa. ave. SPECIAL, BARGSINS “IN OhuSS GOODS,”