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ting me„ through my pacesfori a' full, two hours. My, tenVmate was sure I was John Walcofleld, and yet I was a bit strange since my return to the com­ pany. I did not use tobacco any longer and he had not heard me swear, though I had been addicted to both vices be­ fore my capture. I claimed that I had resolved to let tobacco alone, as It was affecting my health, and I had quit swearing in gratitude over my escape. Tlie General was satisfied and yet un­ satisfied. He acknowledged that my officers and comrades ought to know me after being together for a year, but added that there was no great hurry to dispose of the case, and sent me to the guard house. At the end of two days I was escort­ ed back to his headquarters, and he played his last card. In his tent was,a soldier dressed in Federal uniform, whom I took to be a deserter. There were also two men dressed as civilians, but I! believe they were Confederate soldiers temporarily disguised. The General had two letters and a telegram before him, and as I stood ait attention, lie looked up and said: "Well, my Yankee lad, you are pret­ ty sharp and have stuck by your story, but you might as well make a clean breast of it now. You see this deserter from your lines--these gltizens from Montgomery--these written proofs that you are not John Wakefield." "What • do you want me to be?" I asked. '• ^ "I Want your right name and the .story of how you got into'our lines. You are a spy, and .hanging is the pen-"; alty. but. owing to your youth, we may decide to treat you as- a prisoner of war."- - ; T declared that I was John Wake­ field, asked him to remember that all my comrades had fully identified me, and expressed my willingness to face any new proofs he might have to the contrary. He leaned back in his chair and looked me straight in the eyes for a moment, and I knew he was a beaten man. He did not call up the men nor read the letters, as they had been "pre­ pared" for the occasion, and could not have helped him out. After what seemed fully'ten minutes he quietly said: "Well, perhaps a mistake has been made. You can return to your regi­ ment." My two arraignments before Gen. Mahone made me an object of curios­ ity and gossip in my company, and when I returned it was to find all the men anxious to quiz me, and two or three of them seemingly suspicious. The Captain called me into his tent anil questioned and cross-questioned me until he declared that nobody but a fool could have taken me for anyone else. I put the men off by pretending to be angry, and three nights later, as we held a breastwork at' the front, I slipped away in the darkness and re­ entered the federal lines. Acting on 1 the information I brought Grant was hammering away on that portion of the Confederate line at daybreak. Ten years after the war, as I smoked the pipe of peace with Gen. Mahone at a hotel in Richmond, I put the inquiry: "General, suppose you had secured proofs that I was not John Wakefield-- what would have happened?" "Can't you guess?" lie replied. "Would you have had me shot?" "No, sir. I'd have hung you by the neck and made a good job of it!"--C. B. Lewis, in St. Louis Republic. THE SACRED THIRTIETH DAY OF MAY. When Columbia Chants the Praises and Decorates' the Graves of Her Dead Here .3. and .as I stood before him and tw6 or three headquarters officers Gen. Ma­ hone asked: "Capt. Thorn, this man Claims to, be­ long to your company." Is he a mem­ ber or not?" V " "Yes, sir," was tlie prompt reply. "What's his name?" "John Wakefield, sir." "When was he captured?" "Pour days ago, along with several men." "Arc you positive that this is your man?" ^ "Certainly, sir. I knew him before he enlisted, and he has been in uiy company for a year." That settled it. We were dismissed", and I followed Capt. Thorp to the regi­ ment. On the way '1 rela^edj the par­ ticulars of my capture and escape, and lie seemed considerably puzzled that Gen. Mahone should have been so sus- NOT WHAT; SHE SEEMED. ' --l ' * . "1 . A Stranser'a Kxperience with ^ "Mountain" Girl In North Carolina* j One afternoon last September I was riding a steep mountain road In West-* ern North Carolia, says a civil en-> gineer. It was the most beautiful sea­ son of the year. The foliage of the treesi had taken on its- gayest autumnal! tints, and over valley and gorge, was; cast the beautiful melancholy hazel that summer draws upon her in thosej regions when nearing her end. Thai road was harrow and rocky and was! bordered on one side by an almost? primeval forest, on the other by pre-l cipitous cliffs. -'T As I rounded a jutting mass of rdckSj and trees, which forced a sudden bend la the road, I saw a long brown barrel! of a gun pointing at me from the bushes, and heard the sharp click ofl the trigger. „ I halted in alarm and dodged downi upon my horse. "Stop, stranger!" said a woman's voice, in a drawling, sing-song tone. '• In another moment the woman crawled over a log and came into tha road. She was slender and young and wore a loose calico dress. She was barefoot­ ed and chewed continually a long; sweetgum toothbrush. The gun she carried was the longest rifle I ever, -saw. • !• '•: "You 'uns ain't seen Bill Davis,.! reckon?" she asked, looking at me sus­ piciously. ' ^§T." "I have seen no one since I have been on the mountain," I said.-, ;>'! come mighty near shootin' ye fop Bill Davis. I guess Bill must have took the Bear Creek road. Bill was to my house last night, and sayk, sezee? 'Polly' (that's me), 'could you love ai man what's got 300 acres of land, tha seven finest coon dogs on the mount­ ing, and 40 acres of the best cawn in the United States a-growin'?' "Sez I, *1 guess so, Bill;' and wua kinder fixLn' to lay my head on the bosom ov Bill's hick'ry shirt, when Bill he say£, sezee: , " 'All right, Polly; if I meets up with) any sech a man I'll let ye know;' andj" then he takes a chaw of terbacceri quick and lights out fer tall timber; Bill has got to explain them words of his'n or them seven possum dogs iai goin' to be orphints. Stranger, mountl you be a preacher?" "I am not" "I kinder hoped ye wuz. If Bill ex­ plained he wuz the man he wuz re- ferrin' to before I had time to shoot,! ye mout come in handy fur to tie usi up, an', if he wuz a little slow, an' myi gun went off fust, ye see, Bill might need ye hisself." ,.. . , "How far#is it to the next town?" j "Eight mile. Ye can't get there to­ night. Ye'll have to come down to dad's house and take potluck. I ain'tj a goin' to wait no longer fer BillJ There's dad's." She waved her hand toward a^roofl that showed among the trees lower down on the mountain and set off at a! free, swinging gait that taxed tha walking powers of my horse to keep upi with. y I found the young woman's familyj to be surprisingly above the average ignorant mountaineers of the country .1 Her parents seemed very hospitable! and intelligent, and her younger broth j et and sister were refined and oC| agreeable appearance. After I had been presented to themj by the young woman as "a strange young feller" she had "found folIerin'| his nose up the mountain," she turned! to me aifd said: "Stranger, what mout your business; be?" I told her I was a civil engineer, en-i gaged upon a new railroad that was toi cross the mountain. "Yer ain't vrritin' fer no paper?" "No." "Yer ain't no drummer?" "No." "Nor no revenue?" "Nothing of the kind." The young woman hung lier rifle onj some hooks in the wall and left the room. Half an hour later I was ushered in) to supper. The room was tastefully furnished: The supper was simple but elegant,; and served in the finest china upon the whitest of cloths. Presently tlie young woman came in and I have not re­ covered yet from the surprise I re-i ceived. She was a divine pastoral1 poem, in white musliu, with fresh-cut roses in her hair, and would have graced the dinner table of a metropol-i itan function. She took her seat behind a massive silver tea urn, looked at me, smiledi and said: i "Will you uns have long or short sweetenin' in yer tea, stranger?" Seeing I was unable-to speak a word,! she laughed a hearty peal of silvery,] rippling laughter. Her father undertook to explain. "My daughter," he said, "is a gradu- ate of Peace Institute, at Raleigh. She] has a talent for acting, and the big summer hotel on the mountain paysj her $100 a month .to do the 'original^ native' act when tourists come up the road. It advertises the hotel, espe^. cially when Northern chaps-write up. accounts of meeting her for the papers.. She is writing a book herself about the queer talk and ways of the different visitors we have during the summer." THE PENALTY. fHAfcer was no use o' gittin* bumptious, anyhow. • Hacftfa'-bird, he sot hisgeHf ter singin' on 7 bough; • 'A«* tr'y timea ynthuli bird would try ter itaht a chune, 'Ha take it up-an' carry it, an' 'scourage * hn right soon. He pntoh lots ob airs, he did, de envy ob de throng, A-singin'- . v . - • *; An' a-wiugin' 'Aa* a-moekiu^all day long. - An* many a bird dat humbly erep' along a lower limb Would stop awhile ter listen an' ter wish dat he was him. Dey worried 'bout de human folks dat praised 'ini up so high. Bat dem birds got mo' Contented when a week or so went by. Par is pity foh de mockin'-bird dat caused sceh jealous rage. . *Chse dey cotched 'im An' dey fotehed,"ini Au' dey've got "im in a cage. STORY OF A SOL­ DIER'S DOUBLE. WIN S tow: KOI, D l Jp x-PROCI. A1M KD» Til AT 1 ' WAS XOT JOII.V WAKE F LELD. pieious of me. Thfjrt^ were about forty men in Company D.; JJ'hey gathered j around me as 1 appeared and gave me , welcome, aud a young; man named . David Ganuy, whp had been Wake- . field's tent mate, put hi§ arms around ( me and shed tears in.his gladness over . my return. 1 had learned my part so , thoroughly tiiat I was "at home" from j the lirst. Next duyylt>B«?t every mem- , ber of the company, officers included, ] and where I used names I made no j mistake. I fell into the routine with , tlie rest, and after three days the curi- , osity of all had been satisfied. : You may say that, it was a wonder­ ful thing that I could thus pass my- , self off and escape all suspicion, but I am only telling you what was known to Gen. Grant himself.* My orders were to ascertain Lee's strength on a line about four miles long. How I was to accomplish this after entering the Confederate lines was left for me • to decide. Wakefield told me that he had a cousin in the Seventh Virginia-- a young soldier named John Wins low. He had visited him whenever oppor­ tunity offered, and this was a good ex­ cuse for me to get out of camp. I got permission from my captain to go, and in hunting up the Seventh Virginia I took care to miss it and cover the I whole front and have a look at guns and fortifications. I found Winslow at last, but his greeting was far from cordiaL The two had evidently quar­ reled about something on which I was not posted. He was so sulky and un­ friendly that I was ahout to cut my visit short when he gave me a search­ ing look and exclaimed: "Why, you are not John Wakefield at all!" .. . f * J "Then who am I?" I asked with a laugh. "I don't know, but you are certainly not my cousin John. You look like him, but you are not he." It was queer that he alone should have suspected me, but something in my speech, walk or look warned him that I was a counterfeit. I laughed at him in a good-natured way, hoped 1 would find him in a better humor when I called again, and started for my reg­ iment; but I had not gone a quarter of a mile when I was overtaken, put un­ der arrest, and an hour later was once more in the presence of Gen. Mahone. I am sure that the General had doubted me from the first. Indeed, after the war he told me as much, and added that he was not quite satisfied even when my captain so thoroughly iden­ tified me. I was followed to his tent by Winslow, who boldly proclaimed that I was not John Wakefield. Then all the officers and half a dozen men of the company, including my tentmate, were sent for, and the General heartily entered upon the work of trapping me. ' My life was the stake being played for, and, though T,was terribly anxious as to the outcome, as you may believe, I believe I displayed all the coolness and nerve which my best friend could have hoped for./" Every officer and every man promptly identified me as John Wakefield, but totfijfset this Wins­ low said that his cousra had a scar on the neck which could not be found on me. I denied the scar, and then my captain was requested to ask me cer­ tain questions which the General sug­ gested or wrote out. .In reply I gave the Christian name of father, mother and sister, as well; as a number of uncles, aunts and cousins. I gave the the head of Washington, while over La­ fayette she suspended a basket of blue and white fleur de lis, also a gift from the President's family. This graceful recognition of the centen­ nial heroes was canned on at the same time that the later comrades were receiv­ ing their ovations in the silent shades of Arlington, at the Soldiers' Home, and in other cemeteries. " . . . " his mission--he had come to parry bitter words with the young man • who had stolen his daughter's heart. "I am his mother, sir," she said simply. "Will jou not conie in and wait for him?" The banker twirled his great watch chain furiously, reflected impatiently, and nodded with curtness. Then as she showed him into the neat sitting room and placed her flowers on a table, and a sword and a belt above it told their own story, a token of sudden interest came into the visitor's eyes. "You--you are a soldier's widow, mad­ am?" he insinuated, almost reverently. "Yes, there is my hero!" She was heart full, and, pointing to a picture on the wall, she left the room, AFTER THIRTY YEARS -v ATURE was in |j| her gentlest mood. The sunset was y gorgeous, the air i\ clear and light, and ffi\ the pretty cottage ff} home of Widow Wj Morton looked vj neat and inviting ^ as a palace, yet its No Oath Needed. It is a pleasing sight, albeit a sad one, to see the veterans of battles and cam­ paigns keeping time to the music by which they once marched to fight for the Stars and Stripes. Then those men were'in the fire and flush of first youth; now they em­ phasize their speech with a crutch. A story is told of a man who was in court as a witness in a case at litigation, and who was ordered, by the judge to hold up his hand and be sworn. He held up his left hand. "Hold up your right hand!" roared the judge. "I can't, your honor," said the man. "Fine him for contempt of court, and send him to jail until his fine is paid!" "All right, your honor, but there isn't any hand to my right arin. It lies buried at Shiloh. I^am a soldier!" "Remit his fine. He needn't be sworn. Now,( tell us what you know about this case," said the judge, wiping his eyes suspiciously hard. •0 occupant sat at the / vine-covered win- weeping over a tender memory, weeping j because she knew this proud man had . come to crush her Barry's heart. , "That!" echoed the banker, arising, , pale and startled, "that!" but the widow ] was gone, and did not hear him. ] Like a man in a dream he sat for fully ten minutes staring at the picture. Then, trembling, rapt, he arose and scanned the * framed record of John Morton's war ser-. vice. "Chattanooga," he read. "That pic- x ture!" and he took a small, faded, ragged counterpart from his pocketbook and com- ' pared them. "The same man--after all these years!" When Widow Morton re-enterod that room shortly afterwards, to her infinite ' surprise she found it untenanted, her vis- itor gone. She had not the heart to tell what she had learned of Eleanor Morse, to tell of her,mysterious visitor to Barry that day. • The next, as they sat by John Morton's grave in the beautiful Lupton cemetery, after they had placed the flowers upon the mound revered, she was about to speak of it, when, glancing up, she saw approach­ ing--the man who had visited her so strangely the day previously. He bowed to her gravely. He lifted his hat, he placed beside her own simple flow­ ers on her husband's grave an exquisite wreath of roses. And then he sat down beside them. His eyes were full of tears. Memory and fidel­ ity had broken down all his pride, and in that moment the widow comprehended that her darling boy would never know how nearly he had lost the woman he loved. 1 A soldier had saved Richard Morse's life at Chattanooga at the risk of his own --nobly, heroically. There had been a hurried exchange of photographs, a prom­ ise never to forget, a quick alarm, scat­ tered forces, and the two parted.-never to meet again in life. But Richard Morse had never forgot­ ten, and gratitude sealed the lips of pride and sanctioned the appeal of love on tha!t bright, beautiful Memorial Day. Memorial Day of '70. A brief sketch of how the centennial Memorial Day of 1870 was kept by the House of Representatives at Washington, may be of interest. It was the enterprise of Mrs. McLean Kimball, the widow of the "first man to scale the walls of Chap- ultepec" in the Mexican war, and who lost his life in the civil war. Lieut. Col. Kimball. With an enthusiasm worthy the widow of a hero, and of ancestors who fought gloriously in the Stuart rebel­ lion. the old Scotch McLeans, Mrs. Kim­ ball decided that it was due to the heroes of America that they should be honored at the nation's headquarters. Securing the services of the pupils of the Franklin school. Mrs. Kimball made her plans very quietly, and early on the morning of May 30, 187G, she marched to the capitol with thirteen little girls dressed in the national colors representing the thirteen original States and with one small boy dressed in sailor costume, who walked in advance, bearing the Stars and .Stripes. There in a room placed at her disposal, Mrs. Kim­ ball and her little band spent the morn­ ing in making wreaths and decorations from the flowers previously given to them, a liberal supply coming from the conservatories of the Wliite House. They next carried these to tlie old hall,of rep­ resentatives, where they decorated the statues of the sons? of the republic, fol­ lowed' by a large gathering of friends and strangers who watched every movement in reverent silence. Thence they passed to the House of Representatives, where the famous portraits of Lafayette and Washington adorn the wall. Mrs. Kim­ ball there fastened a magnificent star of roses sent from the White House over Electricity in the Earth. Take up a spade, turn up a small quantity of soil, hold a portion in your hand, hold it to your ear, then smell it. You will observe first a slight motion, hear a faint sound as of the moving of distant timber, and readily notice the odor of heat. Do you know that the forces held in your hand are from elec­ tricity? That the earth for three feet deep is alive with the invisible power and forms the secret of vegetable life? Waves of electricity arc constantly passing through the soil in unseen bil­ lows, thus keeping the soil from sour­ ing, as the billows of tlie ocean keep the waters from becoming stagnant. To demonstrate this fact, go to some rock-bound pool", dip out a small quan-' tity of the polluted water, place it in a bottle, cork and set aside in a warm place for a short time. Then take the bottle into a dark room, shake the bot­ tle, drawr out the cork, and you will see tiny forks of blue lightning shoot out from the bottle, and if you keep perfectly quiet you will hear faint muttering like thunder. This comes; from the flint-like rocks preventing the unbroken flow of electricity -through the soil, and from the air becoming charged and emptying itself intoi the water. Electricity, as is being gradually shown, is fire--the fire of* friction, if you will, the first known by the inhab­ itants of our globe. Look at an arc lamp and see its combined sparks as they emit from the carbons so sWiftly that they are taken for a regular flame of eye-bedazzling light. In the ages to come, the charge of electricity will keep On accumulating until some com­ motion of the earth will cause it to ig­ nite, when, in the twinkling of an eye, our world, with all it contains, will be enwrapped and consumed by a confla­ gration that will startle If not frighten the inhabitants of other planets as they look down upon the flaming mass and see burn up one of the greatest works of the Almighty's creation. A. COLOXEL QUESTIONED ME AS TO MY SAME, ETC. they declared that even our gait was the saine. 1 had not yet recovered from my as­ tonishment when the suggestion was made that I go into the Confederate camp as a spy on the strength of the "wonderful resemblance. I was given three days in which to pump Wake­ field. He did not know my object, or I should credit him with having told me less, although he was tired of the war and rather glad he had been captured. 1 first got his family history complete. Then the town from which he hailed, the names of many people and the sit­ uation of streets and public buildings. Then the names of the officers and comrades and incidents of campaign­ ing. Having nothipg else to do, and my aim being to acquire information, I got from him almost every incident of his life in those three days and nights. As my life would depend upon my be­ ing /thoroughly posted, we canvassed the most trivial incidents of his life at home and as a soldier. He was a ready talker and had a good memory, and, of course, these things helped me wonder­ fully. When I was quite ready I took his snit of clothes complete, and he was given another. Then I was taken down to the front and made a bolt for St. -In other words, one of the Confed­ erate prisoners escaped and dashed, across the space which separated the opposing lines. Not half a dozen men Were let into the secret, and as I ran I was fired upon by half the regiment They had promised me differently, and I still cherish a bitter feeling against the officer who had charge of the affair and obliged me to run such a risk. The bullets whizzed overhead and tore up the earth at my feet, and It was nothing short of a miracle that I escaped being hit. I rdn at full speed straight for the Confederate lines, and on dashing over the breastwork I found myself in the midst of a Louis­ iana brigade of infantry. A eoloriel questioned me as to my name, regi­ ment, when captured, etc., and I an- Bwered so promptly that I supposed ev­ erything was all right. It wasn't, however. Federal spies had played the game before, and Confederate wit had become sharpened. I was sent t^ the headquarters of Gen. ,Malione,.will was subsequently celebrated in Vir­ ginia and national politics. He asked the same questions which the col- p| onel had put to me and many others in addition. I saw that he was suspi- . . jcibus, and. braving all at one" stroke, I requested that my captain be sent for. The Alabama regiment to which I Was Supposed to belong was stationed two miles away, aud it was about 9 o'clock before tlie captain arrived. Previous to his appearance I had been asked his name, which I gave correctly, and had also described his person. When he reached headquarters I was sent for, - - -- Pure and Undeiiled Patriotism. Patriotism, pure and undefiled, is one of the noblest sentiments that can inspire a human heart, and no page of history chronicles more sacrifices, more unselfish effort and more lofty and determined en­ deavor than characterized the period of that bitter and uncompromising struggle. The hundredth part of it has never been told, and only in the books of the record­ ing angels above are many of the entries to the credit of those who gave up every­ thing that they held dear that the honor of the American nation might be upheld; and upon the historical, battle grounds of the disputed territory, us well as upon the scattered graves all through the entire Union, it is fitting and proper that gar­ lands be laid and that patriotic tears may fall. LAY H I M LOW. LOVE CONQUERS ALE. ly down the road. "It will break ins heart when he knows--when he kuovys!" When he knows--what? Widow Mor­ ton looked across the valley to where a stately summer home reared its turrets, as if to silently answer the question. The place had been occupied by a stranger since February, a wealthy city banker, who had brought his only child, a daughter of 18, aud his servants thither early in the year,*tired of the city season. He had come down to Lupton only occa­ sionally during the past three months, but winsome Eleanor Morse had been there all the time, and had become the favorite of the village. The favorite of Barry, her Barry, Wid­ ow Morton's Barry, as well! The widow had trembled when she first noted the evi­ dences of their sincere attachment. But how could she have the heart to dim the bright joy in Barry's eye; how could she point out to him the insumiountable bar­ rier of wealth that would'oppose his love some day! And now the end had come. Banker Morse had learned that his daugh­ ter had given her heart to a struggling young village physician. She, Mrs., Mor­ ton, had learned that afternoon of an angry scene at the mansion, in which the purse-proud Morse had told his child he would rather see her dead than the wife of a nameless, penniless country doctor, and they were packing up now to leave Lupton forever. * "Madam, can you direct me--I am look­ ing for the home-of Dr. Morton?" . The widow looked up. Then her heart began to tremble. She knew th^ speaker, though he did not know her--the great man froth the city. ' > She saw in his nervous, suppressed man- ner the anger that was ready to flash forth at slight provocation. She guessed Creation of Silver. The formation of silver mines is one of the most interesting processes of na-, ture. It must be remembered that thei earth's crust is full of water, whichj percolates everywhere through tho rocks, makiug solutions of elements ob-! tained from them. These solutions- take up small particles of precious1 metal which they find here and there.j Sometimes the solutions in question are, hot, the water having got so far down as to be set boiling by the internal heat of the globe. The net hey rush upward,; picking-up the bits of metal as they go. Naturally heat assists the performance of this operation. Now and then the streams thus formed pass through cracks or cavities in the rocks, where, they deposit their lodes of silver. This is kept up for a great length of time-- perhaps thousands of years--until the pocket is filled up. Crannies permeat-, ing the stony mass in every direction, may become filled with the precious metal, or occasionally a chamber may be stored full1 of it. * Cars Decaying Pending Litigation. 1 On a railroad siding four miles above Hollidaysburg, Pa., stand thirty-two Pullman palace cars, closely guarded; day and night by watchmen whose, only duty it is to see that no one inter­ feres with the process of decay and despoliation which the elements have inaugurated. The cars are the prop­ erty of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company and represent an outlay of about $400,000. These handsome coaches have been dragged through the slow and tortuous processes of litiga­ tion for over five years. Both the rail­ road and the Pullman company have claims on the cars, and until a final de­ cision is rendered in the courts these magnificent vehicles of travel by rail are left to rot and crumble In the open air, and will soon be unfit for any use except kindling wood and old scrap- iron.--Philadelphia Record. Boy's Contrariness. Er boy has sech contrariness, Hit's cla' beyond control; He wants de bigges' dumb-bell an* De smalles' hod o* coal. *, --Washington Star. ?a NO, sib. i'd have hung you by thks, NECK. names of many streets in Montgom­ ery, Ala.; the names of many families, the situation of the State House, Ex­ change Hotel, police station, etc. I told the part taken by my regiment in .various battles and skirmished, and re­ lated a funny Incident connected with my enlistment which Capt. Thorn clearly remembered. I had pumped John Wakefield so thoroughly and so plainly remembered everything- that I believe I passed the examination fully as well as or better than he could! Gen. Mahone had only one peg to hang a rope'Gn after 'jfut- We would rather be a fat man thai a fat woman.