Ontario Community Newspapers

Fenelon Falls Gazette, 3 Oct 1890, p. 3

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I cum EOLKS. it; at It .1. i: . .. ’* m in 1‘ mm. Mâ€"w A Hiawatha-mm. , In order that the thousands of weary people in our‘great cities, and particularly tn the large manufacturing towns, msylic down at night and sleep in peace keep watch aii‘dward. Then: is ever inimi- nent danger of fire to be guarded 3"Ztlllst, as well as dcpredations by thieves and, burg- lars, explosionsof gas, damage by ‘ water and electricity, and a hundred other perils i walked 5! 0‘ fly along the passages between I I l , it is nec- l essary that many of their fellow-men shalll l as Is unlocked ghejjmr of one of the Weave “Pd my eats rin '92:. is terms, nand snifftljeair ' ‘1 s ‘ e A little after eleven o’ clock one evening, rooms. I’lica'rd {mitt-"i ht sbutrlilcdldikea pair of smalbpincers or a pair of shears drop; ed to the floor, down toward the ,farther end of the room. The sound came ve , dit- tiiictly tome, for the room was as sti as a vploelold people, ’ tomb. I"§toppéd short rind lis ned for fully a minute, and then said, “Who’s there":” There was no reply. I. reflected'tliat it Was probably z\'_{)iuir of shears, left carelessly? lyingo‘n {IIIOOlll y which had at; length slid oil to ‘the floor.' I inc’dcm to male“! life' This “away l the looms, rapping on them with my stick. makes the night-watchmen, one of whom I have been since I was twenty years old. There are at ‘present, in Canadaman hundreds of these nightly watchers, not including night policemen ; and I often think what an army they would make, if inarshalled in forty regiments and placed on parade with their dark lanterns, “paralyze- ers” and revolvers. Not all night-watchmen carry weapons. Many of them do not own a pistol -, and there are some who do not even carry lan- terns. In certain factories lanterns are pro- hibited,ron the ground that fire will be more readily discovered by a person who goes about in the dark. It is my opinion that cmry intelligent watchman should be pro- vidcd with a small dark lantern. The pos- Scssion of such a lantern would have saved me one of the worst frights I ever had. I will tell the story presently. Another device, or badge of the craft, which many night-watchman carry, is a, “watch.” It is iiota watch for keeping time, but- a contrivauce for keeping. watch of the watchman; for although most watchmen are trusty and honest, there are shirks who would sleep and fail to make their regular rounds if there were no means of exposing their neglect. The “watch” is an apparatus contained in a circular metal case, weighing from one to three or fourpouiids, which the watch- man carries either in his hand or suspended across his shoulder by a strap. It can be opened for the insertion of a paprc dial, by means of a key which is always in the possession of some trusted agent of the firm or company, who, having put in a fresh dial, gives it into the hands of tlie_watcliinan when he appears for duty each evening at six o’clock. But this is not; the only key : itis a watch of many keys; and the other keys are dis- tributed to different rooms, or points throughout the building, yard, or territory which ’it is the watchnian’s business to patrol. Thereinay be twenty such keys, each chained securely at its station. The watchiniuivisits these stations in order, one after another, and in passing inserts it around. The revolution picks a record upon the dial and so adjusts the mechanism that the only key which will fit the hole next time is the one which ought in proper order to succeed. T licsc records stand oppo- site the time of night at uhicli they are n inadc;aiid any neglect on the part- oi the I ! I I, l the key at a key-hole in the watch and turns l l .badly frightened. for I had no weapon save them hadn’t, been quite so much readin’ It was quite a dark night in August. Clouds had risen; and I had once or twice heard thunder, as if a shower was gathering over the town. . I thrust my stick in between the looms, but detected nothing unusual. But just as I stopped to drive a peg at the watch clock, I fancied I heard a faint rustle among the looms behind me. I experienced a sudden sensation, too, as iftlierc were some one else in the room. I went back and passed entirely around the room and down the centre, listening and poking about with my stick, then I went out and locked the door. . It began to rain with a. few flashes of liglit- I iiing and a good deal of thunder growling in the heavens. This continued till after mid- night. \Vlien I made my rounds between twelve ard one o’clock, I heard nothin v uii- usual in tne weave room ; but. upon uii ock- ing the doors few minutes past one, I again heard a peculiar sound like a half sigh, half snore which some persons make when'par- tially awakened from sleep. It startled me even more than the first: noise I had heard, although the thought E came into my mind, on the instant, that it 9 might be from a. draught of wind. But I. called out again, loudly and plainly, “who’s in here?” and added that whoever was lurk- ing there had better be getting out in haste. Then, after a moment, I started down the room rapping pretty hard on the looms and posts to keep up my courage ;for al- though it'seems ittlc to tell of by daylight, my feelings in the dark were quite another matter. I did not meet anything unusual, however ' and was returning from my circuit of the room along the opposite side, when I again heard a rustle just across from where I stood and at the same instant saw a dark object pass one of the windows. I knew then there was a person in the roomâ€"a thief cr burglar, probably ; and the idea took pos~ session of me that the rascal was moving ' along to reach the dooraliead of me, perhaps ' to waylay me there. Moved by a sudden- spnsm of fear, I iiiadeu rush for the door and, gaining it, turned and shouted,â€" “Nonc of your tricks. I’ve seen you. \Vlint are you doing here ‘2” I got no answer; but as I strained my eyes in the blackness, I saw the same dark, shadowy object slowly pass anothcr window. It was moving stealthily toward me. I was mv stick, and I thought it likely that thci u atchinaii to \‘lSlt a key -Slfl.thll at theiequ 1 - ; miscrcunt had a knife. cd time, which is usually once in thirty minutes, or once all hour, is certain to be exposed when his watch is opened and in- spected next morning. There are other cxpcdients for insuring faithfulness on the part of watchmen. In some factories and foundries, instead of a ortable watch and key-stations electric mttons are distributed about the premises. The wiitcliiiian, as he makes his rounds presses these, and in so doing punctures a record in a dial inside a patrol clock, in the private oilicc of tlic flint. As I look back over my life as a night- wntchinaii, the only satisfaction I have with regard to it is in the thought that it has been a. uScful service, and that if I had not rcndcrcd it seine one else would have been obliged to do so. It is not an enjoyable vo- cation. I fccl as if I laud llC\'(-l‘ sccn daylight and sunshine. My eyes sccm no longer adapted to daylight : they blink like those of an owl intlie daytime. I now sleep fairly “T” in the daytime, but did not at first, never sleep soundly. As n. rule, a watcliniaii’s life is quite uu- eventful. One night is like another, and mouth follows month with nothing to break the monotony of duikncss and silence. But- iiow and then some stuitlingincidtiit occurs. During my first your ass night-watchman, when I was little more than a Loy, so to speak, I was watching in a large cotton factoi y in one of the manufacturing towns. After the hundreds of operatives liud depart- ed, at six O’clock, the difl‘cieiit rooms of the mill were locked up. The custom now is to leave them open. I carrird a large ring of keys that fitted all the rooms, and my schedule of duties rc- quii‘cd that I should make the round of the entire factory once every hour. In the spinning room and iiicacli of the wcuve rooms there was a “watch clock” connected with the works of which was a movable dial that ascended slowly inside a closed case, below the face of the clock: and into this the watchman was required to drive a peg every time he made his rounds. The peg was inserted at a little round hole in the «use, and immediately ascended out of sight. The jx‘gs corresponded to the hour. and were carefully inspected by the superinten- dciit every morning. A \vatchiiiaii who twice failed to drive his peg at the proper hour was tllSllllSSctl. This would be deemed a rather clumsy device at the present time, but it them answered its purpose very well. My orders were to unlock the rooms and walk in the dark down the long aisles be- tween the rows of looms, pcciing about for the least glimmer of fire, listening for any unusual noise, and snitiiiig the air for any unusual odor. as of smoke or gas. ror a ong time it gave inc very “poker- ish" Si‘llS'llltIltS to enter the dark room and go about uloiic amidst the now SllL‘lltllKv chincry, whose dim outlines "avc me an odd feeling. Occasionally I won d hear a slight plug! in the iron or steel work of the looms, or the stillnch would be broken by a hollow gurglc in the pipes. I carried a stick with which tofch my wav 2 and all the little mps that I made. as Well as my foot-falls, soundcd so loud Unit I would ictually find myself going on tip- tocs. A dark lantern, which lcould now and then open to send a ray of light ahead. would have been a great comfort to me. I would not have. admitted to myself then that I was afraid ; but I know now that on many iii 'litsl did actually suffer much from that kin oftimiditywliich may be described 13 “night fear." In after years these feel- lugs wore uwav : but durin ' that lin‘t year I would often hear my ownbhcart thumping l l l l l l I l I l to mend up ; but that, being very tired, she I stood in the door-way, with my left , hand holding the door, ready to jump back aiidshut it if the fellow made a charge on me. i I felt sure that he wasnioviiig slowly toward ' me; yet I did not like f0 turn and run away. “Stop where you are,; I shouted, in as savage a tone as I Could utter. “Answer now, who are you and what are you doing here?” Even before my words were out, I caught a glimpse of something, or some one, ap- l paireiitly iii light-colored clothing from head to foot, not three yards from iuc ; and I was ; about to leap backward and shut the door, when, with a piercing screccli, a woman sprang against me to get past, and at the. same moment struck mo in the face with some sharp-pointed instrument so painful a blow that I staggered and nearly fell. The blood flowed profusely and my assail- ant got past me, although in attempting to l seize her, I retained a portion of her clothing : 2 and many wutthiiicu complain that tlicyiin my hand' The mu dowunfllght 0f Stan’s into an ante-room and escaped into the street. A watchman on the canal bank, l who had heard the scream, attempted lll’ vain to stop her :' and he. too, rcceiveda blow in the face, dealt with what it was subsequently ascertained was a pair of shears. I bound up the wound in my check and - remained on duty till morning. The garment which I had captured was a large white apron, or skirt, such as many of! the mill girls wore, and is it. was then customary with them to place their names, in stencil, upon their garments, the super- intendent with whom I left my prize called the owner to an account next day. When biddeii to explain her exploit, the girl asserted that at about half-past five the previous evening, she had stopped her looms had, while sitting on the floor between theiu fallen asleep, and had froui this cause re- mained in the mill when the rest went out at six o’clock. Later she had waited, but finding the room locked, had decided to re- main quiet until morning. When asked why she had not asked the watchman to let her out, she declared that I “ liollered" and “talked so terribly,” that she was afraid of me :aud that, finally, when i she found that I had seen her, she was ' “awful scared” and had run past me. i As the girl had never been caught in any - mischief previously, her story was generally l accepted, andtliclaugh\vasratlieragainstinc. l It- was always my own opinion, however, | that the girl had stayed in with her shears ' for the purpose of stealing somcfactory cloth. â€"-â€"~ Wâ€"-‘â€"â€"-â€"â€"â€"-â€" -- Good Times at School. “Your little fellow," said the sympathetic lady to the urchin who was trudging along 1 with books and slate under his arm, “aren't : you sorry to have to go back to school? Still, 5 I suppose you manage to have a great many good times." ' “ch'm,” was the replv, "I have just put a lizard iii the teacher‘s desk, and imicilagc in her ink and dropped my slate on Johnny Flynn's sore toe, and put liinburgerchccsc in l the pump, and school ain’t really opened yet, either." Ready to Take his Work for It. \Vildcut Bill (the cowboylâ€"l say, Pard, kin you advance me something on this re volvcr 2 l'awiibrokcrwll‘m ! \‘as it in good order? .l us‘ lcinnie take a couple of shots at you and see 3 O, dot vas all right. Nathan, give this shciitlcman tcn tellers. ‘ filial)? sharpihiii'fi‘I ve' said“f‘o""Sfali's“old‘ “"""“"I‘hank God,~‘Rildy,-onr-boy ‘is safe-! some one of the mill girls, , ‘ l ‘ “5min,” hnd t-lie>“:honiicst”-fnriii house tired . anything unkind, by faiiltin’ mean’ my way l The truth should be told, an’ we both know 3 'SIFAH'S 0 OLXS. , .f '1 place. Icouldfisee acroml gathered there, ,3, ; 'l 1“ fl ,5 _ 4‘ ’S‘iahficdu‘pa lie, leading “little? i' Sammy, smo‘c-strdined un' nearly naked, st, and the but safe an’ sound. pa .5 t”. When I think of m ' selfish fafii'u‘ infill digit}: I, I a ‘.,i ' ‘, NIKKI of , C rue iii an’ sec ,iiiigther {said he leadin'vme gyéfg‘. @{fifigfimlagfifil} fibout' ir’lioishe have; giddiiil ‘in'é ’so tliéz, ’“ ‘, these old folks. loung \vives soniefiiiieii for- 7 thegetjshewllyv scorched pad burned. spcéiduy 'rthein uns- e shock unnerved me an‘ I faintvedlaway, ban’s folks,'forgittin"tli'cduty that she; as an’ the afternoon was well 3 nt before I well as he, owes ’em for his bringin‘up. Jest was able to walk to the bedsi e of hisâ€"yes, set, (low y window,,_\vhile,,1_ piek‘ our mother, whose life was nearly ended. over "gasp ' l Inma,‘3:saitl MEs. ZThoximour "f ‘ Goiii’ fast,’ somebody ‘ whispered, an‘ oodihostessand mistress ..of “Fairview 1 she heard it, an’ said faintly; ‘ Yes, goin‘, goin’ home ; home, “sweet home. ' . '3 ‘j Downtupou my knees 1I. spnk, an’ before wind. V, c , V . eiif’allh ‘ 1 her to forgin me for , my, 3" ’Rildy‘ Tho’rne, ruddy-faced and motherly wicked \VOl‘t s, tellingher she should bevtreat- appearing, not quite fifty,"‘\vas a “ capable” ed like a queen the rest of her days, but she housewife, a “.reg’lar clinker? to turn off didii’t heed iue. ‘ About sunset, she spoke work, the mother of four stalwart ‘soiis, and out clear: “ Father; can’t you come too? wife of easygoing, jolly ’Siah Tlioriic. IConicâ€"comeâ€"tlicre’sâ€"roomâ€"â€"for-usâ€"in~â€" “-l)ear, dear I” Said my niece Ray, as the. theâ€"liouseâ€"notâ€"inadeâ€"witliâ€"â€"hu.nds;â€"no sharp voice first fell ,iipon her ear," and the â€"roomâ€"licre.’ " snappy black eyes “sized us up,” ata glance. “ !“ Yes, mother, I‘ll come soon,’ said he “ What an uncomfortable landlady l” soothingly, pattiii’ her scorched hands, MB In a very few hours we came to know that I cryiii’ out the next minute, ' ’Siuli ! she'sleft we had misjudged her, as lier’s was really a us !” kindly soul. ' "I tnin grieved after her, an‘ remorse “You see, Bliss Ray, there's a difference Y filled my soul. If I could have told her that between old an’ young blood. No matter i I truly repented those evil words, spoken be- how frisky aii’ stirrin’ the young colt may be, - fore-she rescued my little son from the fire it steadies down fast after being worked in he had kindled iii the road way, an’ lost liei“ the harness awhile; I was full of ambition, own'lilc, it would have been some comfort. when 'Siah an’ me were first married, an’ All that I could now do, to atone for that set my heart on gittin’ on in the world, no ; wickednesswas bylieingdoubly kind toSiali's matter how hard I must work. Mother father. He should find in me a devoted told me that ’Siali would need to be kept 1 daughter. I was anxious for him to come at stirriii’, an’ I’d best show him I meant to once with us, buthe pleaded to be allowed to have my way at the beginiiiii’ of our mar- , stay in the old place until the mortgage ried life. She said I was more capable of ‘ was foreclosed. _ ' managin’ than ’Siah, an’ he’d come to see it. “ ’Siali an’ I made his room beautiful, au’ She cautioned me about lettin’ his folks in- went on Sunday inorniii’, to scc if he was fluence him too much. ’Everybcdy knew nigh about ready to move. that they had almost made an idol of him, ‘ “Jays ’Siali, ‘Father is out. in the kitchen school ina’aius ever were waited into by J uly aii’ were a bit too easy goin’. in mother’s big cliair,’ un’ one look at his “I did jest as mother advised, tho’ for the white, peaceful, old face told;us that hcvhad first few years there was asiglit of difference followcdinothcr to the mansion on high. in our opinions. He was anxious to spend “For a few days I came nigh losiii’ my time iii'studyin’, and readiii’ papers. He or- mind, my conscience troubled me so keenly, ganized a literary society, an’ the members for beiii’ so set agin’ ’ein comin’ to live with wanted to farm after the methods suggested by those fine writers who have never han- reconciled, an’ rain that day I’ve had a soft dled a spade in their lives. Mother came corner in my. heart for old people. I’ve no over, one morning, an‘ told me I was takin? patience with the man or woman who coni~ a wrong step by perinitt-iii‘ ’Siah to waste v plainiiigly says : ‘I have the burden of caring time readin’ silly stuff, aii’ we’d never get i for the old people on my shoulders. It‘s a on in farinin’ unless we worked in the day- great charge.’ time, an’ slept at night. “I wonder who it was but these old “Siah’s mother, one morning, asked use fathers uu’ mothers that soothed through not to be. so tight; upon him, an’ intimated l long illness aii’tryin’ days the frctful child. he ought to have his evenings to read his 3 \Ylio toiled in heat aii’ cold, storm or shine, papers. He was used to a few pleasures at. for bread an’ raiincnt for the. beloved son or home. I was young and fiery tempered, aii’ (laughter '.’ knew that before many years we should H\\’]ulbsha11“vc do with our old folks 3,» I‘ll-"0 to Care f°1‘_’5iahispa,“3“i5, 3? they Love them, respect them, and show it. were almost peniiiless, liaviii had Sickncss I i i 7 g - i . ,' a ’ . ,. an 10389-3 Wilma“ em from lll‘ospmm- ‘wmter. \Vhat if we have formed nearer My mother thought I was burdened enough and dearer tics ? with the farm work, aii’carc of my three “Nothinrr but; death savers the ties be. little l’OI'S» Without dom’ for Bill-“’5 f01ks~ tween our 051d folks and ourselves. Thou oh "1 fairly blazed, 1 {91550 “WHY When tom the fceblcliands can no longer toil for Its, that- ’Siah fared better in his boyhood home they )mvcricmy earned a 1mm, swcch-cst. than he did in his own, an’ I said: “If “\Vhat 3 almost noon 1; “91,3, didnit You i . ’ . tell me how fast. I was talkin’ '.' Herc coines gom' on, an money spent for lights, inebbe to-day I shouldn’t have the prospect of . workin’ my fingers tothcbone to corn bread for two people, who are no earthly kin tome. Lights cost- money; we can’t afford ein,’ an ’Siali’ll have to v ork (louny hard now that we are to have an addition to our family circle after a certain mortgage is closed.’ “‘Daughtcr, I didn’t mean-â€" “ ‘No ! certainly not. You didn‘t mean ’Siali fordinner. ” â€"â€"-â€"â€""â€"â€"â€"-â€"-â€". Thn'ce Crowned. Upon a royal throne I saw one stand, A scepter in her hand, \V'it-h grace and dignity to give command ; And liii'eling vassals followcd in her train, ‘ And glorified her reign, And far and wide extcndcd her domain. "Long live the Queen 3” “they cried, with eager voice, And bade their hearts rejoice, That she thus honored was the people’s choice ; ‘ The jcwclcd crown and crinined robc she wore, -As emblems of her pow’r, Made them exalt her majesty the more. 0’ doin’ things, when I’m killin’ myself to earn a bare liviii’. Everybody knows that ’Slali is shiftless, an’ I have the hardest time. that in a few months the Tliorne farin’ll fall into other bands. ’Siali has picked out for you the very best room in the house, sayiu’ he wanted a sunshiuey nook for his dear old mother,’ said I, an evil spirit possessing iiie. “ ‘ Didâ€"-myâ€"-â€"sonâ€"say-â€"tliat? Bless him for that ‘:’ I heard her sayiii’ iii a low, choked voice; then she turned her white face toward me, and spoke up clear : “ ‘ Rildy, we Tliorncs have not, as money- getters, been successful. As you say, we old folks will shortly be homeless. “'e have, in the long ago, worked to bring up ’Siah iii the right way. He always said, ‘one day you shall have a home with me, and rest.” I have given you a good hus- band, though he may not be one after your own standard. I have nursed him in severe illness, and with it motherly pride and love watched his growth into an honest, upright manhood. “'hcii he asked me to rejoice with him, as he had won a dear, good wife. I did so, and your little ones have been treasures dearly loved by me. You have been a good wife and more than done your part, but, ’Rildy, I will pray that there maybe a way provided for father nii’ me, and you will not be burdened with the ad- dition of two helpless old people.” ~ “ Then she slowly walked down the path, through the orchard, over the hill, to the little house she had called home for fifty years. “ ‘ Siali came in from the field singin,’ “ A charge to keep I have.” “The words fretted me, an’ I said, cross as two sticks: “ ‘ I should think you have, or will have a charge to keep, when the old folks come. ’ “ ‘ ’Rildy,’ he said, firm as a rock, ‘If you don't want my parents here, we’ll make other arrangements. Cured for, they shall be, as long as I have strength to work. Suppose ll) ll “'38 your own mother . And all went well, for she was wise and just, A woman one could trust, And with her. statesmen woudcrous schemes discussed : And thus her fame spread all the world around, And nowhere could be found A nobleii woman than the queen thus crownâ€" 8( . And yet no woman’s heart, with all its pride, Can c’er be satisfied If lovc’s sweet homage is to her denied : An‘ll‘, though she be an heiress to a throne, And vast estates she own, Her rcign’s a sad one if she reigns alone. And when he comes -â€"the arbiter of fateâ€" . Her soul’s own choscii mate, How dull and tasteless are nflairs of state ! Her heart, that erst had been a passive thing, Starts up, acknowledging “'itli trumpet tongue its master and its king. ' With him her honors and her wealth she shares And feels. liowe’cr slic fares, Twice crowned as \l'ifc of him whose name she hears. The coronet of gems, the wreath of bays, The attribute of praise, And all the splendor of triumphal days. Vanish before the glory now, possessed, \Vlien she, Madonna blcst ! \Vith rapture Clasps her baby to her breast; And far removed from all disturbing soliisiii Receives the sweet baptism As one whom God has touched with holy chrisiii. “ ‘My parents have been able to keep a roof over their heads. They'll never ask help of ymi 2‘ was my angry retort, and then I lizid my say, tellin‘ him that a man should be ashamed to make a slavc of his wife. and True woman‘s he: rt, in every age and zone, there were so many things we needed. an’ Has one ambition known ; |couldn't ati‘ornl. After I had finished, 'Sia‘n To 10m most, {madly unwilling all its own, lOnkC‘ll 8'. "‘0 queerly. keepin’ SllC‘M “mil 1 And though as (Jim): slit: rules with high set the dinner upon the table. After dinner huhcgt‘ was over, he started to the woods, au’ «:all- As Will}. is oft addressed, 0d hile 19 me 2 . _ y y The crown of .llolIur/iocd becomes her best. “0.1.1332: {3.3g Rildy' father an mother ll quflmm [mun/.4. “I walked over to mother's. to tell her about the trouble. Of cont-e she sided with me. on' I'd about come to think I was in the right, arguin' a man's first duty was to pro. vidc well for his wife an‘ little ones, au' we really were not able to keep 'cm. But jest what to do, I couldu’ think. "They should not be town's poor. at all events. People were already talkin' about my lms)’ “'89- A Matter of Doubt. “Toot, toot, too-oo-t I sounded a horn, ., . which meant, nsl well knew, there was “Do You smakc': “’0 mimic“ “Red md' trouble at home. ’Siah was sounding our dull-Y- , , distress signal. ' l 73'“: WHICH"!ch be Hammered: “Like a scared deer, I mnhomc‘ to find “\\ ell, Iuish youd smoke now. 'Ihcse that the excitement was at the old folks' “lo‘quiw” “m “ling me “P-" Re Should Try That. Mrs. (luinineyâ€"l'ldison says that no cx- pcriment which he has tried at night ever failed. Gummeyâ€"Then he never tried to walk his baby to sleep. ‘ fir'thé pm us. M y kind, vood husband made me more , Give them the sunny side of the house in : _.,_ == » 1' Psocsiss ON THE 001,169. a; dâ€"w ~. l :2“ - The Limits Just Placed l'pon the. liquor Trutllff-Snrrlers Against the Aral». . » n.~.1. . .M.......-.:,cu. .._ N-.. v White sojourners igithe Catigo country an thehiselVWfltonish an e numhdw iiiiporfzinee, f the “tomes, ow i effigy ion of y film .' " fat natives against murder and mpiuc, and to spread Order and civilization throughout the great river basin. Every mail from Europe brings news of fresh edicts to b) ejifcrccd of new police or educational iii-ensures t carriedqu of new;,‘swiiulw.ttg spouting or new expeditions projected' ,The. vest o ‘ is thatithcfnaiiveserebegi " ‘togmplglie idea that hll tliisibctiiiduccs eii‘ material advantage, safety; and \velfi‘rc, and they are therefore becoming more amenable to discip- line and law. The State is dealing with them as with the Arabs, gently if possible. but is employin f sevcrcr means, if necessary, to en- force obci iencc and respect. The directions in which the Congo State it! now chiefly .working'iis for the suppression of the liquor traffic, the ‘cxl’iiiciioir- of- iiiiirdcr- ous sluvcs’ raids, the opening of new routes of traffic, and the drilling of the many hun- dreds of natives employed by the Govern- ment in some features of military tactics, and in industrial pursuits. ' All philanthropists will feel grateful to the (.‘ongo State for its new edict strictly prohibiting the sale of all alcoholic liquors ’ in all that part of the great rivcrbasm lyii g ~ east. of the Iiikissi River. This river is forty miles west. of Leopoldville, and tho 1 country between it and the Atlantic. Ocean 1 has been so long occupied by white liquor traders that it will not be possible, all at i once, to carry out. drastic measures for the suppression of the traffic. The trade, how~ ever, is to be strictly regulated, and its ivoluiiie will be diminished, if possible, by taxes imposed upon the dealers. The Congo State is thus showing itself to beaniost licneflceiit undefl'cctivc agent in the protection of nie.‘jmopidngainst one of the greatest evils that threaten them. The State has at last succeeded in hern- » ining iii the Arab slave dealers on the west. ; and north, limiting their further raids down ' the Congo and along its branches. They have done this by establishing the seven mil- itary stations on the north and south tribu- taries oi the Congo occupied by well-armed forces, and frequently visited by tho trad- ing vessels and gunboats of the State. The natives have learned that thcsc 5posts lire places of refuge, where, under the blueiflug of the Congo State, they may find safety from Arab murderers or oppi‘csscrs of their own tribes. The Aiiibs understand that the limits of their slave and ivory hunting fields I have'bccn reached, and they are submitting : as gracefully as possible to the inevitable. I‘lvcrywhcrc througliouttlic growing rcgioiis which the Congo Stateds bringing under its influence the horrid custom oflminuii sacri- fices is beginning to be severely punished. As an instance of the work the State is doing may be mentioned the progress of i Ihiigala station, where the State is under- 5 taking to educate and care for the I70 child- rcii of its black employees. It is touching them to road. It houses them in \vcllwcii- tilatcd and well-built huts. It gives them their meals in a large dining shcd, where an immense table flanked by beiiclics gives uc- comniodatious to tlieeiitii'c little community at once. Many men and \vomcnorc employ- ed ou the farm, about three-quarters of a. mile square, raising the food for those. child- i‘cii and the station employees, and three cooks are employed solely in preparing the meals for the little wards of the Statc, A large hospital has been built behind tho station, with aceomodutions for forty piti- ents, besich chambers for the convalescent. At )rcsciit the hospital contains twelve blacks, including eight children. three men, and one woumii, Oll'z of the population of (All) souls who form the black personnel of the Station. A number of the natives are employed in .tlic manufacture of brick, and at present; two large furnaces are burning 120,000 brick each. The construction of the Congo Railroad is going on rapidly. The survey has been completed throughout the first twenty-live miles of the road, where all the engineering difficulties are ascuniulzttcd. The grading of the road has been completed for nearly four miles. There are at present ninety- . eight white engineers. agents, and workmen I engaged on the road, besides it thousand native workmen drawn from many parts of Africa. The last mail from Europe reports that three locomotives and quite ii. number of flat cars are constructing, and will soon be shipped to Matadi, the starting point of the railroad. The health of the white force is very good, and they are carrying on the work With a. great. deal of enthusiasm. In all directions it may be said that the . work of the Congo State, though bcsct with ' many difficulties, is making favorable pro- gress, and the white men on the ground, al- most discouraged us they are at times by the immensity of the work before them, are still surprised themselves when they see the large amount that has been done and the rapidly widening opportunities for making still greater progress. __ 6. _.__._ London Society. The eccentric aggregation of humanity known as London society is always on the lookout fora new craze. At one time it' runs wild ovcr professional beauties : u: an- other tiiiic it raves about savage Chieftains ; from Africa; today the ll)W2l(:-lh".ll'L'(l, hun- l Erycycd u-sthctic mrcupics its attention ;too iiiorrow it will be rushing to do honor to it rcpcntant Magdalene, says the .l.lustratcd American. Not loii r ago high~boru maid- ens, who had (llillcfiflllllll the curly hours of the morning, Would be up again butiines scubbiiig the floor of a favorite church, and thus (ll pi'iviug some poor woman of the means of earning an honest penny. lint lniost of them irovcil \vcak-kiiecd »pt-.rli'. is they got that di:-ca-.c known as bouncintih '8 knees-uiind wcaricd of their Wulk. They wanted something new. The supply was cl ual to the demand. A pamphlet appear eil, called the “Cry of Outcast Inn: on,” dcpictin ' in vivid colors the horrors to be soon in t ic slums of the great inciropoli . “ Slumiiiiiig" became the fashion. Men and women of education and refinement paid lionec-to-honsc visits to those low districts of London where misery and crime flourish it! they do in no other city in the timid. lot the crime died out, but cmnpzimtivcly few of these seekers for novelty are left at their posts in the slums. The Salvation Anny then stopped in, and, by means of its marvellous system of organization has, in a few years, done wonders in helping to amel- iorate the shocking condition of the London poor. ‘M‘ i l l l l l p i ii WW

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