Acton Concord Enterprise (Newspaper) - December 27, 1889, Acton, Massachusetts
OOTTOO^ID, MAS S., FBIDAY,|DEOEMBEB 37, 1889.
3SÎ uinber 14r
ïpj£E iU&ERPKISE .teuiiMtW1» Fmday Mohn"
• '•* • IKGS.
^SUBSCRIPTION, - » CO PER Year.
Six Months, 60c; Three Months, 38«. (Including Postage.) INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
HUDSON, MARLBORO, MAYNARD, CONCORD, ACTON, SUDBURY, STOW, WAYLAND, WESTON, in Middlesex County. NORTH BORO, t-OUTHBOKO, ANI) BERLIN in Worcester County. pjiisciPAi- OFFICKR: Chase's Block, Wood square, HUDSON. Hazel'on Block, Main st., MARLBORO. Maynard'* Block, Main st., MAYNARD
It t ! «If <»I>VK»lll«lNO jm® Itich «ne week, 73c; each additional, 2Bo. ' - --jyi jtfliead of eóiuran, etc., in per cent, aduli Ion to regular rute*.
JMslness or professional card«. Ave line of thin tyre or I«**. #6 ^er year, Including a oopy of
^Swine«« notices In loca] colami), 10 cents aline each Ingeritoli.
• KIKiltr AUVKIt'iI-KIIKNTS,
f'uch «8 Wants, Kor Pale. To Let, Lost, Found, «te., rot exceeding four line», will lie Inserted one mck< for Iweuty-flvc cent», or three week» , /or 111 ty cents.
CAKI» OF TH ANKS
Not exceeding six lines, one Insertion, ISO cent» (y- Transient ::dve<tiding, cub In advance.
JUU 1'UINTINO Of every de*eilpt ion piomplly and satlsfactorily executed.
Hi» In a full line of
Fall and Winter
Foreign and Domestic Cloths
A Imo li very tine line of
Gßüis' Fornishii Goods,
Maynard's Block, Maynard.
um mi hobby mm
Trunks, Valises, Umbrellas.
Pants Made to Order.
All goods sold at Bottom FrUx». -
Clothing Repaired and GleanedNeil Currie & CNEW STYLES
Lowell Extra Super,
Floor Oil Cloths
A Splendid Assortment or Wall Paper, Parlor, Chamber and KITCHEN FIKNITUKE,
Spring Beds, Mattresses, Bedsteads, Children's Carriages, &c.
Cheap for.Cash or Installments.Tütties, Jones &
South Acton. Mass.
Alain Street. Maynard, Mass.
(orr. SKATING KINK.)
, Horse Shoer and Carriage-Smith.
E'ven to Shoelne Lame
wK?„ro™e' am w°rk u°ne in» J. Y. TICKER, Proprietor.
■ Neatly and qulcli'y <lone.
P. J. SULLIVAN,
Riverside Block, Main St.
A. B. BLACK,
WMwiglit. & Carriap Builder,
For Mile, repaired, built or exchanged.
Harness Making1, Carriage Painting and Trimming a Specialty.
Harnesses, Kobe«. Whips, etc., for sale or exchanged.
J. L. REYNOLDS,
fee-Stoiiii, CaiTiap-Iroiiii and General Joln&.
Having made Horse-Shoeing a specialty for a I number <if year», I »in prcnaied to successiully reat all diseased or distorted feet.
AH Work lirfom.il I" i> Mit sfnrtory M mm r.
GENERAL INSURANCE AMT
I ON('ORI), MASS,
Tlio following companies arc represented: SlUTL'AI. COMpa.MKH. Quincv, Holyoke, Worcester, Traders and Mechanics, Citizens and Merrimack. Stock Companies. Home, Springfield, l'limnix of Hartford, Ins. Co. of N. A., Continental, Pro v. Wash., and Northern Assurance of London, jy I.ifc and accident policies written in lirst-f lass companies.
THOMAS H. DRURY,
-:- TAILOR -:-
IloomH over H. S. Richardson'» PruR HU.rv. A good line of
Worsted & Woolen Samples
To select from.
A good All Wool pair of Trousers tor Sa.OO; Suits Equally Low.
t3J<""Repairii)g neatly done.. JS Z
CONCORD, - - MASS.
KRBLM GROTE WORKS.
P. J. SHEEHAN,
(Successor to It. K. Williams & ('<>•) Maniifai:lureis of ami dt aler in all kinds of
Foreign and American Granite and Marble.
A Uui;e a^nvtmerit ronrtantly on hnml at price* that defy roui|)0tit ion.
C.'iU and exainin« l»rf«»re purrhaMi't: elsewhere. Visitors always welcome.
Bedford Street, - Concord, Mass.
HARRY L AMIERMAff.
Will attend to all diseases of
Cattle, Horses, Sheep, etc.
Orders left with A. 1!. I1LACK, will be prompt-ly attended to.
MISS ANNIE C. BLAISDELL,
ABSENT TREATMENT GIVEN'.
ST" Recidvnee aval po>t oillee address.
HORACE TÜTTLE, Hack, Boarding
and Livery Stable
lVnldm Mtrrrt, Concord, illnm.
Hack« and Marges furnished for pal ties. Orders feftat J. C. Friend's »rag Store alid at. the Sin bin will receive prompt attention. Connected |.y telephone.
F. D. GILMORE,
OKFI K DAYS:
Maynonl—Tliu »days, Fridays and Saturdays, In Maynard's block
Northboro-Mondavs, Ttifsdaja uml Wednesdays, at residence Main street
— FOR —
T.c^a ,-uiJ I'm menace of uiglit; Then the ton*. lonely, leaden niero Tacked by t!ie desolate fell
by a » iwtnvl battlement; and then, l.ow brxKllnsr. Interpenetrating all, A vast, gray. listless, Inexpressive sky Where no live star can hare so much as shot Since life a:id death wen onn
nist: In the true* full of nltfht. Is It th>! hurry of the rain J Or the noise of a drive of the dead Streaming before the Irresistible » ¡11, Through tlio strange dusk uf this the debatable land Between tbelr plitco and onraf
Like the forsretfulnc.su
Of the work-a-day world mado visible,
A mist falls from the melancholy sky.
A meawnfrer from somo lost and loving soul,
Iloiwl'-ss, wld« wandering, bewildered
Here lu the province» of life,
A Rrent white moth radea miserably by.
ThroURh tbo trees in tlio strange, dead night. Under the vast dead sky, Forgetting and forffot, a stream of ghosts Seta to the mystic mere, the phantom fell. And the dim, infinite silences beyond.
-W. E. Uenley, in Scots Observer.
AT COULTER'S NOTCH.
HOES ES I
At Elm Tree Farm. Address«. Hiram Woodruff, Concord Was». Telephone Elm Tree Farm.
"Do you think, colonel, that your bravo Coulter would like to put one of Ills j;«nn in lion»?" the general naked.
"General." he replied warmly, "Coulter would like to put a gun anywhere within reach of those people," with a motion of his hand in the directipn of the enemy.
"It is the only place," said the general. He was serious then.
Tlio "place" was a depression, a notch, in the sharp crest of it hill. It was a pass, and through it ran a turnpike, which, reaching this highest point in its course liy a sinuous ascent through the thin forest, ran straight away toward the enemy. For a mile to tho left and a mile to the ritclit tho ridge, though occupied by a line of infantry lying close behind tho sharp crest and appearing as if held in place bv atmospheric pressure, was inaccessible to artillery. There was no place but the bottom of the notch, and that was barely wide enough for the roadbed. From tho Confederate side this point was commanded by an entire bat-' te l'y posted on a slightly lower elevation beyond a creek and a mile away. All the guns lint one were masked by the trees of an orchard: that one—it seemed a bit of impudence—was directly in front of a rather grandiose budding, the planter's dwelling. The gun was safe enough in its exposure; the rifles of that day would not carry a mile without such an elevation as made the fire, in a military sense, harmless; it might kill here and there, but could not dislodge. Coulter's notch —it «iiuo to be called so—was not, that pleasant simimcrafternoon.a place where one would "like to put a gun."
"It is the only place," the general repeated thoughtfully, "to get at them."
The colonel looked at him gravely. "There is room i\>r but one gun, general —one against six."
"That in (rue—for only one at u time." said the commander, with something like, yet not altogether like, a smile.
The tone of irony wan now unmistakable. It angered the colonel, but he did not know what to say. The spirit of military subordination is not favorable to retort, nor even deprecation. At this moment a young officer of artillery came riding slowly up the road, attended by lus bugler. It was Captain Coulter. lie could not have been nioro than years of age. lie was of medium height, but very sleml. r and lithe, Kitting on his horse with something of the air of a civilian, lu face he was of type singularly unlike tin- men about him; thill, high-nosed, gray-eyed, with a «light blonde mustache, and long, rather straggling, hair of the same color.
Moved by a sudden impulse the colonel signed to liiui to halt.
"Capt. Coulter," he said, "tho enemy has a battery of i;ix pieces over there on the next ridge. It' I rightly understand the general, lie directs that you bring up a gun and engage them."
There was a blank silence; the general looked stolidly at a distant regiment swarming slowly up the hill-through rough undergrowth, like a torn and draggled cluud of blue smoke; the captain appeared not to have heard him. Presently lie spoke, slowly, and with apparent diorl:
"On the next ridge, did you say, sir? Are the guns next the house?"
"Ah, you have been over this road before. Directly at tho house."
"And it is — necessary — to engage them? The order is imperative?''
Ilis voice was hiioky and broken. He was visibly paler. The colonel was astonished and uiortilied. He stole a glance at the commander. In that immobile face was no sign; it was as hard as hroii/.e. A moment later lie rode silently away, followed by bis staff and escort. The colonel, humiliated and indignant, was about to order Capt. Coulter in arrest when the latter spoke a few words in a low tone to his bugler, saluted an.l rode straight forward into the notch, where, shortly, ut the summit of the road, his lield glass at his eyes, ho showed against the sky, he and his horse, sharply deli.-ied and motionless as an e<iuci!U iiui ttutuc. Tbo bugler dashed down the road in theoppositedirection at headlong speed anil disappeared around the corner. Presently his bugle was heard -inging in the cedars, and in an incredibly short time a single gun. with its caisson, each drawn by .six horses and manned by its full complément of gunneis, came bounding and hanging up the jia le in a storm of dust, un-limbered tied r cover, and was run forward by hand to thtiXntal crest among the dead bernes. "A gesture of tho captain's arm, some Btrangely agile movements of the men in leading, and, aliii'i.-.t before the troops along the way hid ceased to hear the rattle of the wheel», a great while cloud sprang forward down the declivity, and. with a sharp shock v. Inch turned up the white of the forest leaves like a storm, the affair at Coulter's notch had begun.
It i i no' intended to relate in detail the pro.rre-s ai:d incidents of lliat ghastly co:,t st—a contest without vici-'situd»« /. ■ ¡dternations only different degrees of dr-ipair. Almost at the instant when C.ipt. Coulter's gun blew its challenging cloud, six answering clouds rolled upward from among the trees aliout the plantation house, a deep multiple report roared back like u broken echo, and thenceforth to the end the Federal can-noniers fought their hopeless battle ill ail atmosphere of living iron, whose thoughts were lightnings nil.1 \vlitis? deeds were death.
Unwilling to see the efforts which he could not aid and the »laughter which he could not stay, the colonel had ascended the ridge a quarter of a mile to the left, whence the notch, itself invisible, but pushing up HiicceKhi vt*fiiasi«es of smoke, seemed the crater of a volearu
in thundering eruption. With his glass Uo watched the enemy's gutiu, noting as he could the effects of Coulter's fire—if Coulter still lived to direct it. He saw the Federal gunners, ignoring the enemy's pieces, whose position could be determined by their smoke only, gave their whole attention to the one which maintained its place in the open—the lawn in front of the house, with which it waa accurately in line. Over and about that hardy piece the Bhells exploded at intervals of a few seconds. Some exploded in the house, as could be seen by thin ascensions of smoke from the breached roof. Figures of prostrate men and horses were plainly visible.
"If our fellows are doing such good work with a single gun," said the colonel to an aide who happened to be nearest, "they must be suffering like the devil from six. Go down and present the commander of that piece with my congratulations on the accuracy of his fire."
Turning to Ids ndjntant he Baid: "Did you observe Coulter's damned reluctance to obey orders?"
"Yes, sir, I did."
"Well, say nothing about it, please. 1 don't think the general will care to make any accusations. He will probably have enough to do in explaining his own connection with this uncommon way of amusing the rear guard of a retreating enemy."
"Colonel," said tho adjutant, "I don't know that I ought to sav anything, but there is something wrong in all this. Do you happen to know that Capt. Coulter is from the south?"
"No: was he, indeed?"
"I heard that last summer tho division which tho general then commanded was in tho vicinity of Coulter's home — camped there for weeks and"-
"Listen!" said the colonel, interrupting with an upward gesture. "Do you hear that?"
"That" was tho silence of the Federal gun. The staff, the orderlies, the lines of infantry behind tho crest, all had "heard." and were looking curiously in tho direction of the crater, whence no smoke now ascended except desultory cloudlets from the enemy's shells. Then caiue the blare of a bugle, a faint rattle of wheels: a minute later the sharp reports recommenced with double activity. The demolished gun had been replaced with a »sound one.
"Yes," said tho adjutant, returning his narrative, "tho general made the acquaintance of Coulter's family. There was trouble—I don't know the exact nature of it—something about Coulter's wife. She is a red-hot secessionist, as they all are, except Coulter himself, but she is a good wife and a high-bred lady. There was a complaint to army headquarters. The general was transferred to his division. It is odd that Coulter's battery should afterward have been assigned to it."
The colonel had risen from tli'* rock upon which they had been sitting. Ilia eyes were blazing with a generous indignation.
l^Jie go:,|ip!ng officer straight in the face, ^•did you get the story from a gentleman or a liar?"
"I don't want to say how I got it, colonel, unless it is necessary"—he was blushing a trifle—"but I'll stake my life upon its truth, in the main."
The colonel turned toward a small knot of oflicers somo distance away. "Lieutenant Williams!" he shouted.
One of the oflicers detached himself from the group, and, coming forward, saluted, saying: "Pardon me, colonel, I thought you had been informed. Williams is dead down there by the gun. What can I do, sir?"
Lieut. Williams was tho aido who had had the pleasure of conveying to tho officer in charge of tho gun his brigade commander's congratulal ions.
"Go,".said the colonel, "and direct tho withdrawal of that gun instantly. Hold! I'll go myself."
He strode down the declivity toward the rear of tho notch at a break-neck pace, over rocks and through brambles, followed by his little retinue in tumultuous disorder. At the foot of the declivity they mounted their waiting animals and took to the road at a lively trot round a bend and into the notch. Tho spectacle which they encountered there was appalling.
Within that defile, barely broad enough for a single gun, were piled the wrecks of no fewer than four—they had noticed the silencing of only tho last one disabled. Tho debris lay on both sides of the r-iad: the men had managed to keep an open way between, through which tho fifth piece was now firing. The meu? They looked like demons of the pit! All were hatless, all stripped to tho waist, their reeking skins black with blotches and spattered with gouts of blood. They worked liko madmen, with rammer and cartridge, lever and lanyard. They set their swollen shoulders and bleeding hands against tho wheels at each recoil and heaved tho heavy gun back to its place. Tliero were no commands. In that awful environment of whooping shot, exploding shells and shrieking fragments of iron and Hying splinters ol wood none could have been heard. Oflicers, if oflicers there were, were indistinguishable; all worked together—each while ho lasted—governed by the eye. When tho gun was sponged it was loaded; when loaded, aimed and fired. There was no clashing: the duty of the instant was obvious. When one fell, another.' looking a trifle clrtmer, Roemed to rise from the earth in tho dead man's tracks, to fall in his turn.
With the ruined guns lay the ruined men—alongside the wreckage, under it and atop of it; and back down the road —a ghastly procession—crept on hands and knees such of the wounded as were able to move. The colonel—he had compassionately sent his cavalcade to the right about—had to ride over those who were entirely dead, in order not to crush those who were partly alive. Into that hell he tranquilly held his way. rode up alongside the gun, and in the obscurity of the last discharge lapped upon tho cheek the man holding the rammer, who straightway fell, thinking himself killed. A fiend, seven times damned, sprang out of the smoke to take his place, but paused and gazed up ut the mounted officer with an unearthly regard, his teeth flashing between his black lips, his eyes fierce and expanded, burning liko coals beneath liis bloody brow, Tho colonel made all authoritative gesture uml pointed lo the rear. The fiend Imwed in token of obedience. It was Capt. Coulter.
Simultaneously with the colonel's arresting sign, silence fell upon tho whole field of action. The procession of missiles no longer streamed into that defile of death; the enemy also had ceased firing. His army had been gone for hours, and the commander of bis rear guard, who had held his position perilously long in hope to silence the Federal fire, at that strango moment hajl silenced his own.
"/was not aware of the breadth of my ai^Uonty," thought the colonel, facetiously, riding forward to the crest to see wEut b id really happened.
Si» hour later his brigade was in biv-ouao on the ene&y's ground and its idlers were examining, with something of awe, as the faithful inspect a saint's relics, a score of straggling dead hones and three disabled guns, all spiked. The fallen men had been carried away, their crushed and broken bodies would liave given too great satisfaction.
Naturally the colonel established himself and his military family in the plantation house. It was somewhat shattered, but it was better than the open air.. The furniture was greatly deranged and broken. The walls and ceilings were knocked away here and there, and there was a lingering odor of powder smota everywhere. The beds, the closets of women's clothing, and tho cupboards werfjaot .^roatly damaged. The new tenants for a night made themselves comfortaCle. and the practical efface-ment of Coulter'B battery Bupplied them with an interesting topic.
During supper that evening an orderly of tiie escort showed himself into the dining room and asked permission to speaX to the colonel.
"What in it, Barbour?" said that officer pleasantly, having overheard tho remark.
"Colonel, there is something wrong in the cellar; I don't know what—somebody there. I was down there rumaging about."
"I will go down and see," said a staff olficer, rising.
"So will I," the colonel said; "let the others remain. Lead on, orderly."
They took a candle from the table and descended the cellar stairs, the orderly in visible trepidiation. The candle made but a feeble light, but presently, as they advanced, its narrow circle of illumination revealed a human figure seated on the ground against the black stone wall which they were skirting, its knees elevated, its head bowed sharply forward. The face, which would have been seen in profile, was invisible, for the man was bent so far forward that his long hair concealed it; and, strange to relate, the beard, of a much darker hue, fell in a great tangled mass and lay along the ground at his feet. They involuntary paused: then tho colonel, taking the candle from the orderly's shaking hand, approached tho man and attentively considered him. The long dark beard was the hair of a woman— dead. The dead woman clasped in her arms a dead babe. Both were clasped in the arms of the man, pressed against his breast, against his lips. There was blood in the liairof the woman; there was blood J in Che hair of the man. A yard away lay an infant's foot. It was near an irregular depression in the beaten earth which formed the cellar's floor—a fresh excavation with a convex bit of iron, having jagged edges, visible in one of the sides. The colonel held the light as high as he could. yThe floor of the room above was brokenijlirough, the splinters pointing •*» Hfcr*.« i..............i
"TliiJ casemate is not bomb proof," said the colonel, gravely. It did not occur to him that his summing up of the case had any levity in it.
They stood about the group awhile in silence; the staff officer was thinking of his unfinished supper, tho orderly of what might possibly be in one of the casks on the other side of tho cellar. Suddenly the man whom they had thought deail raised his head and gazed tranquilly into their faces.
The staff oflicer drew back a pace, the orderly two paces.
"What are you doing here, my man?" said the colonel, unmoved.
"This house belongs to me, sir," was the reply, civilly delivered.
"To vim? Who then are—were these?"
"My wife and child. Colonel, I am ! Captain Coulter."—Ambrose Pierce in San l'rancisco Examiner.
THE ROYAL BOAR HUNT.
germany's emperor and his grunewald friends.
lie Wasn't Crazy. A gentleman from an adjoining town, | who pass»d thiough Milledgeville the I other day, told our correspondent of a | little scene in the ordinary's court of his | native county a few days ago that dem-| onstratesthe truth of the assertion that "great matters are often kindled from small fires." The case in question waa against a young negro charged with lunacy, and twelve prominent gentlemen were sworn to investigate into his mental condition and give a verdict in accordance with the facts deduced.
The foreman of the jury, though a prominent gentleman, had failed to gain enviable reputation as a paymaster, and there is where the pinch came. In the cross-examination usually attendant on such trials, the foreman propounded a few questions to thu simple minded negro that were readily answered.
"Doyou know me?" asked the peer.
"Certainly I do," was the quick retort.
"Then, what is my name and where did you know me?"
The negro gazed at liiiu with an air of confidence and then replied: "Your name is Mr. John Blank. I worked for you all of year before last, and 1 swar' 'fore God you lias liebber paid me a cent for it. Of course, I knows you." In the laughter and confusion that followed a verdict of "not crazy" was made, but Mr. Blank vows that he will never serve on another jury, especially to test the mental strength of a negro, which he likens unto gauging the kicking capacity of a mule — Milledgeville (Ga.) Chronicle.
When This Old Hut Was N«tr.
When a man once contracts the habit of wearing a high silk hat, nothing will ever break liim of it. His bank account may, us it were, deteriorate, and his other clothes grow a little shabby and drop a season or two behind the style, but he will rfill cling to the silk hat. Indeed, the ha! itself may drop back to llio year-before-last shape, and give the wearer a strange. Kip Yan Winkle-like appearance, yet he will not descend to any other wirt of head covering. But this is the exception—usually he will continue to wear a silk hat and keep up to the latest style as well, whatever the •'onsequencis may be.
Time was that when a man bought a '!lk hat he felt certain of its remaining in style several months at least, but this lime is past. You buy the latest thing '.oday and to-morrow you find that the best dressed men are wearing something quite different: the hat you proudly wear to the theatre may be all out of style to come home wiih. The young man who has not yet contracted the stove pipe hat habit should be warned. Where silk hat styles originate is a mystery. Some man, remarkable for his versatility, must be kept very busy somewhere designing the new shapes. What manner of man lie is, no one knows. Even liiB name is unknown. He may live in Paris, or London, or New York—no one knows which.—San Francisco Argonaut
An Imperial Meet Which h tleld om St. Hubert's Day, the Third of November. A Blc Jolimcntion, Where Only the JoumallKtH Are In Fnll Dress.
A blast is heard from the gamekeepers outside, announcing that the boar has been loosed. Fifteen minutes more passed, and then the master of the hunt. Count Richard Dohna Schlobitten, advancing to the prince, salutes him and says: "Your royal highness, it is time for the hunt to begin." Prince Frederick Leopold raises his hand, Herr Palm salutes, and then, lifting tho waldhorn to hia lips, blows a long and powerful note that re-echoes shrilly throughout the castle.
The hunting park is.right in the middle of the Grunewald woods. A-little distance from tho castle is the wide and deep river Havel, along whoso banks there is abundant cover. Should the boar, however, take it into his head to cross the river, he is practically eiife from the hunters, for, long before they could cros3 in boats, he would have disappeared in the forest. But the hounds are off on a keen scent, and as they pick up the "faehrte" of the game they give cry that tells the hunters where to follow.
Now the whole field is in full chase. Hofjagermeister Graf von Dohna leading gallantly on his powerful black horse. Presently he turns and makes room for the ladies, for tho chase is yet young, even though tliei joyous bark of the hounds can be heard at intervals, indicating that they are still on tho track. The prancing of some of the horses ridden by tho ladies causes a delay.
The etuperor is exceedingly partial to Prussian horses, and this fact has set the fashion, where heretofore there were many English horses used in the hunting field. Our Prussion breed is 6low but more enduring than the English, and in every way better adapted for the rough work of a boar chase.
Tho supreme moment of the hunt is when the boar lies bleeding and dead and the prince's aide-de-camp with his hunting knife cuts from tho nearest pine tree a bunch of needles, which tho prince gaylv distributes to those who happen to be present the moment the "fang," or dagger Btab in the lungs, "tho coup de grace," is given. Nono who are not on tho spot at the instant of victory may 6haro the "bruch." As each of the fortunate hunters places his spray of pine in his hat or coat the bugles sound tho "Ilallalli! Hallalli! Hallalli!" the signal of the death of the boar. This brings all the laggards to the spot, hot and breathless with riding and their horses flecked with foam. Then with his hunting knife Herr Palm administers the "cui'ee" to the dead boar, cutting it open with a single dexterous Btroke. One of his assistants then takes out tho liver nv.d intestines, which are
UUng lO U1C jnivh .111ill IJUfVilltr
After the chase all return to the Castle Grunewald, where dinner awaits them. Merry and hungry, chatting gavly over the successful sport, and without even an attempt at toilet, tho hunters sit down, this time to a regal table. Unlike tho lunch in the forenoon, which was eaten in the courtyard, the dinner is a stately and imposing affair, the solo peculiarity being the utter absence of even the semblance of preparation on the part of tho diners. They sit down just as they come in from tho forest, their hunting suits torn and bloody or soiled by tumble's from their horses or contact with trees and bushes. Even the ladies look slightly bedraggled, some having their long habits and their hunting gloves stained with the marks of tho chase; but all are pleased, and it is a happy party indeed which, disregarding the conventionalities, begins to do justice to the good cheer their imperial host Sets before them.
To the rider who grasped the boar be longs the honor of toasting thj emperor, after the solid dishes have been disposed of. This ceremony, from time immemorial, has been done in a peculiar brew called "St. Ilubertus Grunewald punch."
There is one unique feature of tho annual hunting dinner. For many years it has been thecuvtoin to invite as guests not to the hunt, but to the feast that followed it, a dozen of the most prominent journalists of tho capital. These spectacled professional gentlemen, who would he sadly out of place in a hunting field, contribute in no small degree to the entertainment of the dinner, where everybody present is supposed to help along the merriment in a Bohemian way. It falls to the lot of some journalist, designated in advance by royally itself, to prepare and read to the members of tho Ilubertus run a "agd Protokoll," or versified narrative of the hunt, and this, with many other similar productions, is kept as a memorial at the castle. For» number of years this pleasant tnsk was performed by the lato Or. Louis Schneider. The newspaper men are really the only well dressed men at the dinner. They attend in full evening costume and their elaborate toilets furnish a strange contrast to the rough, dirty suits, frowsy hair and muddy skirts of tho merry followers of the boar.
With the cinptyingof the punch liowl, and when the last shout over the newspaper men's verses has died away, the hunters who reside in Berlin or Potsdam begin to think of home. It is quite dark outside the castle, but tlie.-e revelers think nothing of an evening through the somber Grunewald woods. In pairs or groups they walk or ride home, making the a i' merry with their songs and laughter js I hey go. The ladies who do not stop over night ut the castle accompany llieiu. Every hunter carefully showy his or her bit of "butch," for it is a matter of cu.itom that it must be worn till one goes to bed. At the same time the crowds of people who spent l he day on the Grunewald turn Iierlinward, and soon the dark woods are once more silent and deserted.—Cor. Philadelphia Times.
Ileliliid the Times.
Uncle Sam—Say, I'm Mowed if I go out again till I get some new clothes! Columbia—Why, what's the matter? "The matter? Every time 1 appear some one shouts 'Where did you gettlmt hat?' and these trousers of mine are away behind the fashion—not one-third wide enough. Something must be done."— New York Sun.
IIoiv They Can See.
Mrs. Gazzam—I can't understand how robbers see lo go through a house at night.
Gazzam—With their burglarize, of oourse.—New Yoik Sun.
ALL ABOtT ItACCOONS.
one of the animals you cant-catch in A trap out of water.
Tliey Are Very Fond of Crawfish and Can
Be Trapped Under Water—How to Smoke
Him Out of a Tree—HI* Habits In Winter,
Especially the Vang Fast.
"Did you ever hear any one say he had trapped a coon?" said P, B. Eyler, of Pittsburg, who has been spending a few days on Lake Kouka, and says that if there is anything he knows all about it's coons. "If any one ever told you he trapped a coon in the wood« Ire told what never happened. Coons can't be trapped except in one way. and I never found a coon hunter yet who knew how it was done.
The coon leaves the coldest scent behind it of any animal that lives, but it carries the keenest scent in front of it of any animal. You may track a coon to his home in the crevice of some rock, which is a favorite retreat for linn. You may place your trap in front of the hole, and disguise it as you may, cover-it with leaves a foot deep, if you like, but tlmt coon will never leave that hole as long as that trap is there. He will starve to death first, as I have proved on more than one occasion. Ho can smell the iron of that trap, and he seems to know the danger it threatens him with. He knowB it will be death to leave the hole, and he prefers death by starvation to being trapped. I have tried iron traps and snares and all sorts of devices, but could not succeed in fooling one of these wise little animals into getting caught by mo, until one day a new idea struck me. It isn't often you see a coon in the daytime, unless you know where to look for them. If there is a creek in your vicinity in which crawfish are plentiful, you will be likely to discover somo epicurean coon fishing for them, if you hide at the side of the creek and keep very-quiet.
The coon is particularly fond . of crawfish. Tho way he fishes for them is to wade in tho creek, generally going down tho stream. The crawfish live under the stones on the bottom. Tho coon feels under each stone he comes to with his fore paws, thrusting one under on one side and the other on tho other side. It is a comical sight to see a coon fishing for crawfish. He keeps his head high in the air, moving it up and down and to and fro, his eyes evidently gazing at nothing, every sense seeming to bo concentrated on the business beneath the water. You can tell in a second when he has fastened on a crawfish, for the expression on his face changes instantly from the dull, vacant Btaro to one of brightness and animation. He draws the crawfish out of the water, and, standing on his hind feet, rolls it smartly between his paws. This crushes tho shell and claws of the crawfish, and makes tho sweet meat more accessible. The coon eats his capture with great relish, a^d then begins tho search for another
While watching a coon fishing in this way one day I got the new idea of trapping for coons. I thought that by placing a steel trap under tho water in the creek where coons did their fishing they could be deceived, and more than likely caught. I tried the experiment. I sani: two traps at differentplaceson a favorite crawfishing route for coons, and the same afternoon found a coon in each trap. And that is tho only way you can trap a coon.
I often hear hunters talk about smoking coons out of hollow trees where they have been located. If they say they have done the smoking by burning straw or leaves or substances of that kind, 1 don't believe them. Coon hunters in western Pennsylvania know by long experience that there is only one thing, the smoke of which will force a coon to beat a retreat from his hollow tree. You may burn leaves or straw till tho cows come homo, but you won't get your coon. You can hear him sneezing every little while like a man with tho hay fever, but that is all the effect the smoke will have on him. If you want to get your coon by smoking him out of the tree, you must take what wo call a sulphur match over in western Pennsylvania. Tho coon hunting sulphur match is made by melting down a quantity of sulphur in a saucer and saturating a strip of muslin a few inches long and an inch or two wide in it. When you run your coon into a hollow tree all you've got to do is to put your sulphur match at tho bottom of the hole and light it. It won't be burning ten seconds before Mr. Coon will pop out of his hollow as if he'd been shot from a catapult, nnd then if you don't get hi it's your fault.
I never read anything about tl^iiabits of the coon yet that didn't saJMhat tho animal lays up stores to^alisist on during the winter, and I never met anybody who professed to know anything about coons that didn't hold the same thing. A coon depends on stores it collects to seo it through winter just about as much as tho bear does, and everybody knows that the bear goes to sleep in his hole when the weather drives iiim in, and doesn't generally wake up until spring, and 60 he can't eat much. The coon does the same thing, except that he will wako up now and then on some fine day and take a little stroll through the country. When he goes to his winter homo he rolls himself with his nose between his hind legs, and very close to his hams, at that, and gives himself up to oblivion. When he comes out in the spring he's as thin as a shadow. I've cut dowu dozens of coon trees in the winter, and always found the coons in that rolled up position, with not a vestige of anything to eat in tho hole. If a coon comes out on a winter's day and the ground is all covered with snow, ho will accept the inevitable and walk on tho snow to his destination, but if the snow is in patches, or lies ill scattered banks, tho coon will follow the leading of tho bare ground around the patches of snow, keeping shv of all contact with them, although sitcli a course may lead him miles out of Iiis way. The coon is an interesting creature, and is worthy of a good deal of study. —Hammondeport Cor. New York Bun.
The Chinese Official Gazette.
The Peking Gazette api>ear8 in two editions, one written and one printed, daily with exception of festival days. The written edition appears on the day of the date the paper bears. The printed edition, which has to be cut in wood, an operation which takes a considerable time, appears some weeks later. Only tho most important news is given in the written edition; the other publishes it quite fully.—Exchange.
"That's a great mine. I tell you there's money in it." "Ilow do you know there is?" "Well, I put fifty thousand in it myself. "—Harper's Bainr.
An Interesting: Tulk on the Security of ■ 'Oiiy Ropes.
A huge center fiole, dozen* of lines and a puffing engine, a projecting arm of wood and a big block of granite lifted upward until yon hear a creaking sound which seems to intnn»te that the whole arrangement will be rant assunder, is an instantaneous photograph of a derrick, and the picturé is the inspiration of a narrative concerning a hardy specimen of those who rig these big derricks, and who are called "riggers."
John F. Hayden is lijs name, and he was bom in Prussia about forty years ago. Now ha is a well known North ender, and his fame as a "rigger" has spread over the greater part of the United States. At the early age of 10 ho went to sea on a German bark of 1,000 tons, called the Helius. That was a large vessel fpr those days. Itoruised «tang Mediterranean and Black sea waters, trading at Sebastopol, Odessa and Qtheir ports. On the return f&thlng Of cernai quence occurred until the bark was sailing through the billow's of the North sea, when she lost a rudder.
Although a mere child at the time, John soon learned the danger of the sit- < uation, and displayed great nerve for one so young. His offer to help the mon man the boats made officers and crew laugh, and all were put in such good humor that a rudder was built forthwith, and tho Helius was brought into Norway. Instead of getting scared at the dangers attending a sailor's life, John seems to have acquired a fascination for them from his first voyage.
Twenty years ago he came to America and shipped in the C. N. Davis, owned in New York, but running between Montreal, Valparaiso and Callao. It was the peculiar fate of this vessel to lose a man or two every time she went around the Horn, and hence extra seamen were always carried. Sailors generally are superstitious, but those of the Davis were especially so. Imagine then how the crcw must have felt when, in the summer of 18GD, as the vessel approached the dreaded Horn, Haj-den discovered a tombstone aboard. From • him to the captain, mates and sailors the intelligence spread, and only after the most persuasive entreaties could the men be induced to continue the journey. Not long afterward, in Bight of the Horn and in a dead calm, one man was lost overboard, and as tho sailors saw a shark grab him, they were for throwing the tombstone into the deep. But the captain assured them that if the tombstone was thus disposed of, the whole crew would be doomed.
It was on a stormy voyage, when about a hundred miles north of the Horn, that John first saw some real "rigging" done. The vessel's maintop-mast had been carried away. This called for work. The broken spar had to b stripped and a new one fitted. In twenty-four hours a new topmast was completed.
"I remember," said John to a reporter, "of a terrible voyage wo had from Callao to Antwerp. Besides losing all our cargo the poor mate found a watery grave. I have been on vessels where tho lower mast was sprung, but was saved by 'fishing.' Iiv 'fishing' is meant putting a lot of oak staves around the mast, nailing them and twisting ropes about them.
"I am now a foreman," continued John with evident satisfaction. "In 1887 I first went into construction work and rigged tho derricks used at many of tho new buildings on tho Back Bay. Raising granite blocks is about as heavy work as we have on tho average buildings, and therefore you've got to know how to fix derricks so that they will stand the racket. We sometimes have to lift fifteen tons away up, and then's when you've got to look out.
"I've worked on church steeples all over the country, putting on and taking off vanes. This is unpleasant, but profitable work. Ono of the biggest jobs with a derrick was putting in the Worthing-ton pumps at the Cow Pasture. It was a two months' job. The engine for the pumps weighed 1,000 tons. The heaviest pieco weighed twenty-four tons. The fly wheel, which was thirty-six feet in diameter, had spokes that weighed three tons each. Tho best of it was we got pumps and engines in without injuring a soul or damaging anything.
"I sometimes wonder we don't have more accidents caused by bad rigging. The latter is often old, tho ropes have been exposed to the rain, and the lives of workmen and passers by are in danger. If workmen complain that a rigging is bad they get no satisfaction, but are told to go to work or throw up their jobs. The trouble is generally with the guy ropes. The best guy ropes are of steel wire. Tho others are made of manilla."
Besides a desire for 6ecuro rigging, John has another hobby of more historic interest. It is this: How were the pyramids built? Ile has not yet solved the problem, -but is of the opinion that the huge blocks of stone that astounded travelers were piled up by a system of inclined planes and big rollers. Some day he expects to be able to give a more lucid explanation.—Boston Globe.
The finest artificial teeth are made of the best ivory, but the great majority of false masticators now in use aro simply pieces of specially prepared hard porcelain. The following is one of the processes adopted for their manufacture: Fine calcined or roasted quartz powder, well ground fluorspar, china clay, and s very little oxide of tin aro very intimate, iy mixed and ground together, and afterwards made iuto a soft paste with water. This paste is poured into molds of various kinds and sizes of teeth, and allowed to set. The plastic grinders are then transferred to a furnace, where they aro "cured"—that is, half baked or hardened. When this has been done they are covered with an enamel mode of paste of spar and quartz, and finally subjected to nn intense heat, until they are sufficiently baked, when they are ready for the dentist.—Surgical Reporter.
Spoiled Ills l'roBramuie.
A thug who was recently imprisoned in India, having been caught almost in the actual commission of a murder, complained bitterly to an English oflicer at having been deprived of tho opportunity to fulfill his ambition. Ho had begun lifo with tho fixed determination to kill an even thousand human beings, and at tho time of his capture was in a fairway to carry out his design. He hail already killed 700 persons, and if the authorities would have let him alono for quite a little while longer he would have reached the 1,000 mark. He was willing to agree to give himself up again if he were allowed to go free long enough to bag the additional :!U0 needed, and he thoughttt great hat-! hipthatso reasonable a H fryeM ih'refused. ■*