Wit Comes With the Dessert

1895

The greatest opportunities for serving an effective dinner are in the dessert. Besides it is over the ices and between the cracking of nuts and the nibbling of raisins that the wittiest things are said. Chauncey Depew says it is not until the ices are served that people at dinner really begin to have a genial feeling toward their neighbors.


Fighting

Two men in Mississippi had a fight in a room. One threw the other out of the window, and, thinking he had killed him, jumped himself. They fell a distance of 80 feet, and neither was hurt.


Indian Name

The Aroostook river took its name from an Indian word signifying good men.

The Lullaby

1895

There can be no doubt that if the lullaby was not in advance of the war song it was at least contemporaneous with it. Mr. Mason tells of the low, sweet chant of the Zuni mother and her quaint baby songs. In making their bread he mentions the imitative power of the native women, who sing notes and words which are made to sound like their hand stones working in the mealing stones. — St. Louis Post-Dispatch.


Wished He Were A Dog

Burger, author of the "Wild Huntsman," fell in love with his wife's sister and married her after his wife had died of a broken heart. He soon discarded her for new favorite, who proved to be such a Tartar that Burger said, "I wish I had been born a dog."


Long River

The Atchalafaya river, in Louisiana, was so named from two Indian words meaning Long river.

Woman Drinks Three Poisons

1920

Is Then Rescued From River and Will Probably Live.

DIXON, Illinois. — Mrs. Sutherland of Oregon, widowed mother of three small children, attempted suicide by drinking the contents of three bottles of different poisons and then leaped into Rock River. Rescue from the river was effected quickly and it is believed she will recover.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Aug. 7, 1920, p. 4.

Two Pearls In Single Shell

1916

River Mussel Yields Tidy Sum to Finder.

CHARLES CITY, Iowa. — Sam Waid of Cedar township found along the Little Cedar River two large pearls in one shell. The pearls have been estimated by buyers to be worth at least $50 each.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Sept. 16, 1916, p. 5.

Big, Impudent Black Bass

1916

Jumps Into Rowboat and Occupants Nearly Drowned.

LAKE MILLS, Wisconsin. — While boating up the Fox River a 5½-pound black bass jumped into the rowboat of Lloyd and Ione Thomas, of Waukesha, 10 and 12 years old, respectfully, and because of the confusion that followed a serious accident narrowly was averted. Other fishermen came to the rescue of the children.

It has been reported that on at least six different occasions this summer fish have jumped into boats on the Fox River and other Northern Wisconsin lakes. They become frightened, it is said, when struck by the motorboats which they are unable to see at a distance because of the muddy water.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Sept. 16, 1916, p. 7.

Boats Are Hotels

1920

Floating Hostelries Relieve New York Housing Conditions

ALBANY, N. Y. — Floating hotels were put in operation here to relieve the housing conditions, and particularly the congestion which has marked Albany hotels the last two years.

Two of the largest night line steamers plying the Hudson River, after having had their light and water systems hooked up to the municipal supply here, were opened to the public as floating hotels and ready for business.

Each of the boats has accommodations for 400 guests, and on each meals will be served and hotel service maintained. It is believed this is the first time in the history of the country that boats, compelled to cease operations by freezing of a river, have been utilized as hotels.

An Iowa Fish Story

1900

Here is an Iowa yarn that raises the limit on fish stories:

"We wet our lines in Shell Rock river, a few miles below Cedar Falls, and caught a catfish that weighed 190 pounds. Being without fish, flesh or fowl at the camp, we put a pole through its gills and shouldered it half a mile for dinner. On opening it we found that it had swallowed a smaller cat that weighed about 15 pounds, so we said we'd eat the latter for dinner instead of the big fellow, as it was perfectly fresh. But when we opened No. 2 there was a still smaller cat in its gullet, one that weighed five pounds, and as the party consisted of only three we made a dinner on that. I have abundant witnesses."

Origin of Some Geographical Names

1896

The Menominee, in Wisconsin, was named from a tribe of the same name. The word means "wild rice."

Massachusetts Bay was named from two Indian words, Mais Tchusaeg, meaning "this side the hills."

The Catawissa River, in Pennsylvania, was named from an Indian word that means "getting fat."

The Cattaraugus, in New York, has its name from an Indian expression signifying "bad smelling banks."

The Platte River was originally named the Nebraska, from an Indian word meaning "shallow water."

The Housatonic, in Connecticut, was called by the Indians Wussiadenex, the "stream beyond the mountains."

The Delaware Bay gave its name to the State. The bay was named from Thomas West, Lord De La War.

The Chickahominy had its designation from an Indian word, Chik-a-maw-hony, "the place of turkeys."

Appalachie Bay, Florida, was variously termed Apahlachie, Abolachie, Apeolatel, Palaxy, Palatachy, and so on.

The Neversink was not named because its waters do not get low, but from the Indian Na-wa-sink, "ma-river."

The Pascagoula, in Mississippi, was named from the Indians called the Pascagoulas, or "the bread-making Nation."

Lake Champlain was named in honor of its discoverer. The Indians called it Canaderi-Guarunte, "the door of the country."

Cape Fear River, in North Carolina, was originally Charles River, afterward Cape Fair River, corrupted to Cape Fear.

Albemarle Sound was named after George Monk, Duke of Albemarle, one of the members of the original charter company. — Boston Journal.

The Hero of the Brazos

1899

Near the city of Hempstead, in Texas, there lives a farm-hand who has proved himself a hero of peace, and whose name should be remembered by the people of his country with all the gratitude they willingly bestow upon the heroes of our armies.

One of the great rivers of Texas is the Brazos, a stream subject to vast floods, which often rise so suddenly that the people living near it have no time to escape the rush of the waters.

In early times a colony of Franciscan friars established a mission on a mound near the bank of the river. They built a church and a village, and taught the neighboring Indians. A hostile tribe, however, swept over the country, ravaging and burning, and there seemed to be no salvation for the friars and their converts behind the feeble defences of their mound. But of a sudden the waters of the river rose, and terrible floods swept away the savages and saved the little garrison.

Then the friars, so the story goes, saw plainly the working of the Lord, and they called the river which had enveloped them Los Brazos de Dios — The Arms of God.

But the Brazos is not always merciful. During the recent floods in Texas its waters played a mighty part in the destruction of life and property. One night, as the flood was beginning to overspread the farming lands, a young man named Fritz McGee was wakened by the distant roar. He rose, hurried out, and after some difficulty, secured a single frail rowboat and started alone on the work of rescue.

All through that terrible night be worked among the negro cabins scattered over the flooded bottoms, and before morning he had rescued seventy-five human beings, men, women and children, and had conveyed them to high and safe ground.

It is doubtful whether a single man ever before saved so many lives, one by one, in so short a time. Fritz McGee, farm-hand, rowing his fragile skiff through the darkness over the turbulent water, is a figure to stir the noblest feelings. — Youth's Companion.

"No Period" McGee Prophesies Revolution

1908

Railways, Navigation, Rights Granted

Dr. W J McGee, the distinguished ethnologist and geologist, who is the secretary and mainspring of the inland waterways commission, predicts a revolution within a few years, if the railways are allowed to continue grabbing riparian rights, throttling navigation and depriving the country of its greatest single source of wealth, its waterways.

And Dr. McGee is no wild sensationalist, but a cool-headed scientist and investigator. He points out that, with the exception of Vicksburg, there is not a single town between St. Paul and New Orleans whose river fronts and bridges have not been grabbed by the railways with the kind assistance of the legislatures. The doctor's idea is that by redeeming the river fronts and developing waste water power, the whole cost of improving the rivers would be paid for in a few years.

Dr. McGee is a self-taught scientist. While he was working on a farm he was studying Latin, higher mathematics, astronomy and surveying. He had charge of the bureau of ethnology from 1893 to 1903, resigning to become chief of the department of anthropology at the St. Louis exposition. He was the first president of the American Anthropological society, and later was president of the National Geographical society. He has done some valuable exploring work himself, his topographic survey of northwestern Iowa being the most extensive ever made in America without public aid. He is now secretary of the inland waterways commission, which has in charge the deepening and improving of our inland navigation, together with the reclamation of land and the development of water power.

Dr. McGee was born in Iowa in 1853. He is known among his friends as "No Period" McGee, for he never uses periods after his initials. He maintains that everyone calls him "W J," and that that has become his name and ceased to be initials.

Florida Man Has Team of Alligators Pulling His Boat

1901

LEE DRIVES A QUEER TEAM

Florida Man Who Employs Alligators to Tow His Boat

Jefferson Lee, who lives on the St. John's river, in Putnam county, Fla., has the most extraordinary team in the country. It is a team of alligators that Mr. Lee uses to tow his boat up and down the river when he goes to market.

Mr. Lee has to go six miles down the river to his post office, and it is a hard pull against the current, coming back. He noticed how swiftly alligators swam, and it occurred to him that it might be a good idea to turn the alligators that abound in the St. John's river to some account. He captured a pair of young 'gators and raised them in his yard. He taught them to swim and drag a weight behind them, and he also taught them to turn either to the right or left by pulling ropes fastened to their teeth on either side.

When the alligators were big enough he put a harness that he had constructed on them and harnessed them to his boat. They swam well and pulled the boat through the water at a good speed. By pulling the reins that passed through the mouths of the 'gators, Mr. Lee was able to turn his strange water team in the direction he pleased.

Mr. Lee made a point of never feeding his alligators until after they returned from a trip, when he would immediately reward each one with a fine meal.

The alligators seem to be willing to perform their task of pulling his boat, and when he turns them out of the pen in which they are stabled and starts them for the water, they shuffle down to the boat in the liveliest style, and after they are hitched they plunge into the water with grunts of delight.

Mr. Lee says his strange team has never run away nor kicked out the dashboard of his river craft, but that they have one fault, for which, however, he does not blame them. They sometimes sweep their powerful tails in a curve through the water, and once smashed one of his boats into little bits and threw Mr. Lee and a party that he was taking boat riding into the river. They would all have been drowned had not the alligators swam back to them and permitted the party to climb on their backs, after which the alligators swam swiftly to the shore and all the party were saved. Mr. Lee now hitches his team 20 feet in front of the boat, so that the sweep of their tails will not endanger the craft.

Mr. Lee's success has created great interest among all of his neighbors, and now many alligators are being trained for duty as sea horses. — Chicago Tribune.

The Pied Piper's Anniversary

1915

Recently occurred the anniversary of the visit to "Hamelin Town in Brunswick," in 1876 of him "who, for the fantastical coat which he wore being wrought with sundry colors, was called the Pied Piper."

Old Verstegan told the story in prose of how "the Pied Piper, with a shrill pipe went through all the streets, and forthwith the rats came all running out of the houses in great numbers after him; all of which he led into the river of Weser, and therein drowned them."

It is to Macready's young son that we are debtors for the poem, for it was he who persuaded Browning to weave the prose into poetry to amuse a sick child. Its preservation was due to a lucky accident, for in Browning's next collection of poems was a blank page or two to be filled, and "The Pied Piper of Hamelin" was just big enough to do it. So if in his life the Pied Piper destroyed hundreds of children his biography has amused thousands. — London Chronicle.

Henry M. Stanley's Graphic Story Against Africans, Cannibals, In Battle

1878

Stanley's Graphic Story

Incidents of His March across the Continent — Fighting with Cannibals — A Monster Canoe — A Temple of Ivory

Henry M. Stanley continues his graphic story of African exploration in a letter to the New York Herald. We give the most interesting incidents: On January 4, 1877, we came to the first of what proved a series of cataracts, or, to use a more correct term, falls, below the confluence of the Lumami, and the Lualaba, or the Lowa, as the river was now called. Our troubles began now in earnest. We were hunted like game. Night and day every nerve was strained to defend ourselves. Four times on January 4 we broke through the lines of canoes brought out against us, and finally we were halted by the Baswa Falls. The savages seemed to think that we had no resource left but to surrender and be eaten at their leisure.

Again and again were we compelled to repulse the furious charges that they made to drive us over the falls. The people of the Falls Islands also came up to assist the cannibals of Mwana Ntaba. We were at bay, and became desperate. Return we could not, as we could not pull against stream and fight. We pulled ashore first on the right bank, then across river to the left, and made a camp in the woods, drawing our canoes and boat up after us. After constructing a fence of brush around on the forest side the best sharpshooters were placed in position for defence. After a short time the natives retired and left us to rest.

For the ensuing twenty-four days we had fearful work, constructing camps by night along the line marked out during the day, cutting roads from above to below each fall, dragging our heavy canoes during the day, while the most active of the young men — the boat's crew — repulsed the savages and foraged for food. On January 27 we had passed in this desperate way forty-two geographical miles, by six falls, and to effect it had dragged our canoes a distance of thirteen miles by land and by roads which we had cut through the forest. Our provisions in the meantime we had to procure as we best could. When we had cleared the last fall, we halted two days for rest, which we all very much needed. In the passage of these falls we lost five men only.

After passing this series of falls we entered upon different scenes. The river was gradually widening from the usual 1,500 to 2,000 yards breadth to two and there miles. It then began to receive grander affluents, and soon assumed a lacustrine breadth from four to ten miles. Islands also were so numerous that once a day were we able to obtain a glimpse of the opposite bank. We had reached the great basin lying between the maritime and lake regions.

The first day we entered this region we were attacked three times by three separate tribes; the second day we maintained a running fight almost the entire day, which culminated in a grand naval fight at the confluence of the Aruwimi — the Welle (?) — with the Lualaba. As we crossed over from the current of the Lualaba to that of the Aruwimi, and had taken a glance at the breadth of the magnificent affluent, we were quite taken aback at the grand preparations for our reception. Fifty-four canoes rushing down on us with such fury that I saw I must act at once if I wished to save the expedition. Four of our canoes, in a desperate fright, became panic stricken and began to pull fast down stream, but hey were soon brought back.

We dropped our stone anchors, formed a close line and calmly waited events. Down the natives came, fast and furious but in magnificent style. Everything about them was superb. Their canoes were enormous things, one especially, a monster, eighty paddlers, forty on a side, with paddles eight feet long, spear-pointed, and really pointed with iron blades for close quarters, I presume. The top of each paddle shaft was adorned with ivory balls. The chiefs pranced up and down a planking that ran from stem to stem. On a platform near the bow were ten choice young fellows swaying their long spears ready. At the stern of this great war canoe stood eight steersmen, guiding her toward us. There were about twenty — three-fourths of her size — also fine looking, but none made such an imposing show. At a rough guess there must have been from fifteen hundred to two thousand savages within these fifty-four canoes.

I cannot think that these belonged to one power. I imagine that it was a pre-concerted arrangement with neighboring tribes, got up especially for our entertainment. We had no time even to breathe a short prayer or to think of indulging in a sentimental farewell to the murderous cannibalistic world in which we found ourselves. The enemy, in full confidence of victory, was on us, and the big monster as it shot past us launched a spear — the first. We waited no longer; they came to fight. The cruel faces, the loudly triumphant drums, the deafening horns, the launched spears, swaying bodies, all proved it; and every gun in our little fleet angrily gave response to our foes. We were in a second almost surrounded, and clouds of spears hurtled and hissed for a short time — say, ten minutes. They then gave way, and we lifted our anchors and charged them, following them with fatal result. We were carried away with our feelings. We followed them to the shore, chased them on land into their villages, ten or twelve of them, and, after securing some of the abundance of food we found there, I sounded the recall.

To the victors belong the spoil — at least so thought my people — and the amount of ivory they discovered lying useless about astonished me. There was an ivory "temple," a structure of solid tusks surrounding an idol; ivory logs, which, by the marks of hatchets visible on them, they must have used to chop wood upon; ivory war horns, some of them three feet long; ivory mallets, ivory wedges to split wood, ivory pestles to grind their cassava, and before the chief's house was a veranda, or burzah, the posts of which were long tusks of ivory. There were 133 pieces of ivory, which, according to rough calculation, would realize, or ought to realize, about $10,000. These, I told the men, they must consider as their prize money. In this fight we only lost one man.

Scenes During the Potomac Flood – Great Trees, Debris, Pumpkins

1878

Scenes During the Potomac Flood

The Washington Star has this account of the recent rise in the Potomac at the National Capital:

From the Virginia side to look up the Potomac was like looking up the rapids at Niagara Falls, except that here the water was almost solid with mud, and was loaded with timber hewn and rough, and pumpkins and other farm products. Wrecks of bridges and houses were rapidly driven on the boiling flood.

As the angry waters struck the piers of the bridge they were forced up almost to the quivering timbers, and then started again on their rapid race for the sea. Looking down the river the water was dashed and tossed into the shape of ocean breakers. Behind the piers it boiled and bubbled like the contents of some infernal cauldron, with a roar equal to that of a tornado. Great trees and hewn timbers coming down stream would sometimes strike the piers and be whirled into the air against the bridge. In one case a tree trunk about sixty feet long and almost two feet in diameter was swept crosswise against the pier, and in an instant was broken into three parts and swept away in the mighty current.

Among the debris were hundreds of yellow pumpkins sweet from off the cornfields on the bottom lands many miles above, and the scramble for them was lively, some of the skiffs coming in loaded with them. Men, women and boys could be seen going home a large pumpkin under each arm, and rows of them lined the bridge and shore.

The damage to crops on the river farms must have been considerable, judging from the vast quantities of hay, corn and fodder that were afloat. During the night several canal boats came down, it is thought, from Georgetown, and went to pieces against the Long Bridge. A small dwelling house came down about two o'clock, and striking near the north draw shattered and went to pieces. Another large one with a roof newly shingled came down the south channe1, and striking a pier went to pieces and floated away in fragments below.


That Colorado Stone Man

A Denver assayer gives this account of the origin of the Colorado stone man with a tail:

In August, 1875, five of us were prospecting in the vicinity of Pueblo. In coming upon a sandstone quarry, one of the party observed a sort of likeness of a man drawn upon the rock. The incident occasioned a deal of talk about ancient creations, and the idea of getting up a second Cardiff giant was then favorably discussed.

The party agreed to undertake the task and a stonecutter named Saunders, who had been working in the vicinity and known to be a clever hand at modeling, was at once sought out and an agreement made for the figure. While the plan was in progress one of the party in a joking way, said the thing ought to have a tail, as in ancient times men had tails six or seven inches long. It was decided amongst the party that the figure should be known as a petrified Aztec Indian, and they would resurrect him after six months and impose him on the public as such.

The stonecutter, not seeing the joke, set to work, and made the figure, with tail appended. The price paid the artisan was $135, and after he had completed the figure it was buried. The "Muldoon" was made out of sandstone and dried by the cabin fire, which partly accounts for the little moles on the surface. After the burial — two feet from the surface of the ground — the party went on their way to await the resurrection.

A few of the prospectors had got wind of the proceedings and were keeping an eye on the party, and so they dispersed in different directions. Finally they became scattered, some in New York and the remainder in different portions of the country. I had forgotten nearly about the matter when the discovery was chronicled in the papers.

An Old Man's Leap to Death — A Thrilling Suicide

1878

An Old Man's Leap to Death

A thrilling suicide took place one forenoon recently at St. Louis, an unhappy mortal leaping from the railing of the great bridge to the water, 110 feet below, meeting instant death.

A few moments previous to the occurrence the man started across from the eastern shore, leaving a letter in the hands of the ticket-seller on the other side addressed to a friend in East St. Louis, in which he deplored the circumstances which led to the suicide, and gave directions to be made of the few effects he left behind.

After leaving the ticket office on the other side, he pursued his way to the center span of the bridge, and one of the watchmen on the bridge saw him looking down into the swift current below with an abstracted air, as though undecided what course to pursue. But the watchman, never dreaming that he contemplated suicide, paid no special attention to him. Suddenly he divested himself of his outer apparel, coat and vest, and hastily climbing over the railing, he cast one imploring look upward, his lips moving as if in prayer, and then made the fatal leap into eternity.

Before the watchman, who was hastening toward him, could do anything to prevent the terrible fate that awaited the poor fellow, his body, as he made the frightful leap, was seen shooting through the air, and finally it was lost to sight beneath the muddy waters. One of the ferry-boats was crossing at the time, and the pilot took the boat near to the post where the man had alighted, but the body had sunk from view.

The bridge watchman found the coat and vest of the suicide near the spot from which he jumped, and took them, together with a pine stick which the suicide had carried, to the Third district station, where, upon examining the pockets, a letter was found addressed to Nixon or Dixon, the initials torn off, by M. O. Brown, dealer in tobacco and cigars, at Pleasant Hills, Illinois.

A few hours after the tragic act, the body was found 400 yards below the bridge. It was then ascertained that the suicide was an old man sixty years of age, named George Hickson, who has lived some time in East St. Louis, and that he had resolved upon self-destruction on account of a domestic difficulty with his son-in-law, John Girard. Hickson traveled with Barnum's circus a long time, exhibiting his son, a noted dwarf.

The Desire to Leap, Commit Suicide at Niagara Falls

1899

THE DESIRE TO JUMP.

An Unexpected Sensation Experienced by Many Persons.

Many persons who visit Niagara falls find they have a great desire to leap from various points on the several bridges or from one of the numerous points of observation. For this reason, after once having experienced the fascinating sensation that coaxes them on to death in the deep and rapid running waters, they never go near any of the seductive points without being in company with some one who will guard them from harm as a result of what perhaps might be termed by some their weakness.

Many people who have visited Niagara have confessed that the waters of the beautiful river had a weird fascination for them while standing at places where death would be easy by simply letting go one's hold and slipping into the river, and people saved from suicide there have admitted that they knew no reason why they should end their lives, but the scene was so delightful that it coaxed them to seek the peace of death there.

In other places than at Niagara the public comes in touch with folks who, when on an elevation, have a proneness to jump off, and for this reason they keep away from all such danger points. An interesting explanation of this desire is that given some years ago by Professor Low of the army balloon corps. He had frequently invited a newspaper correspondent to make an ascension with him, but each time the invitation was declined.

Later he told the professor of the temptation be had to jump from high places and that he feared making an ascent. For this he was laughed at, the professor stating that the reason people had such desires was that they were full of electricity; that the magnetic current in the earth was the attraction and that what he was standing on carried the current. He also said that up in a balloon the continuity was cut off. Finally the man made an ascension and found that the desire to jump was not present. It is a curious statement. — Philadelphia Record.

Note About Some of Our Town Folk

Stevens Point, Wisconsin, May 22, 1907

Concert size cylinder records, six inches in length, containing the latest songs and most popular music, just received by Reton Bros. & Co.

Pupils of Miss Helen Marie Hein will give a piano and violin recital at her home at 8 o'clock this evening. Fifteen members of her advanced class will participate in the program.

Mrs. John Hawn, who has been a patient at St. Mary's hospital in Milwaukee during the past few weeks, is steadily improving and it is expected that she can return home within another week.

Marty Lee returned Sunday morning from Crystal Falls, Mich., after an absence of several months. Marty will remain here during the summer, being employed at his trade as a plumber, and will catch for the local base ball club.

A spark from a passing locomotive or from the foundry furnace ignited a moulding cast in the yards adjoining the John Rice foundry at about 4 o'clock Saturday afternoon. The department was summoned, but no damage resulted.

A richly furnished, rubber tired and leather upholstered opera coach has been added to the livery equipment of John W. Archibald, the enterprising Strongs avenue hustler.

Henry Coll, a Chicago architect, is engaged in preparing the plans for the proposed Polish brewery, and it is expected they will be ready for the contractors in a short time.

Jas. A. Bremmer, the one armed veteran of the civil war who has been in poor health all winter, suffering with stomach trouble, left here last Monday for Minneapolis to take treatment in a hospital. It is hoped that Mr. Bremmer will return fully recovered.

An enormous log drive, the largest of many years, in charge of forty men, was started at Tomahawk on Monday, May 13th, the logs being destined for Merrill, Wausau and other points along the Wisconsin river.

E. O. Westerfield, of Hatley, visited here Friday and Saturday with his brother-in-law, Dr. W. H. Wilson. The latter spent Sunday at Hatley and secured a nice string of brook trout during a few hours fishing.

—The Gazette, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, May 22, 1907.

Man Finds 31 Inch Carp Washed Out by Flood

Pennsylvania, 1915

31 INCH CARP

Washed Out of Codorus by Flood at Seven Valleys.

A German carp, measuring thirty-one inches in length, washed out of the Codorus creek by the flood of last Wednesday, was picked up in the meadow of Peter Lau, by him on Saturday. The fish is the largest one ever known to inhabit a stream in this section. Another carp was found on the same day by Mr. Lau, but it was only 15 inches long. The bigger fish is three inches thick and is attracting the attention of many Seven Valleys residents. The weight of the carp is fully 16 pounds. The carp is said to have been washed out of the Heathcote mill dam. Carp were caught there last season.

—Adams County News, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, January 16, 1915, page 3.


Philosophical

"You used to say you depended on the wisdom of the plain people." "Yes." "But now and then the plain people play a trick on you and neglect to send you to congress." "That doesn't destroy my faith in their wisdom. A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men." — Washington Star.


Advice From Lord Bacon

Generally it is good to commit the beginning of all great actions to Argus with a hundred eyes, and the ends of them to Briareus with a hundred hands; first to watch and then to speed. — Lord Bacon.


Brought Home

A party of tourists were going through a small town, having the time of their lives, laughing and joking. One of them thought she would have some fun, and called to a little girl standing near, "Are there any shows in town?" To which the little girl answered, "Only the one you people are making." — Minnesota Minnehaha.

River in Paraguay Leads Only To Mystery

1903

A GREAT MYSTERY

A Land From Which No Traveler Has Returned

One of the great mysteries of the world that is left for explorers to solve is the course of a river in South America and the land through which it runs.

The river is the Pilcomayo, and the land is the territory known as the Chaco in Paraguay. Explorer after explorer has entered this unknown country and none has returned. Last year the famous explorer, Erland Nordenskiold, one of the great Nordenskiold family of explorers and naturalists, tried to follow the Pilcomayo to its source, but, although he penetrated further than any other man ever managed to go and return, he did not succeed.

Enemies who could not be seen surrounded him day and night, and at last the mysterious terrors of the region forced even him to return. He has announced that Chaco still waits for the traveler who can conquer its secrets. So constant and unchangeable has been the doom of the explorers who tried it that the natives have named the Pilcomayo the River of Death and they speak of the Chaco as the Unknown Land.

Geographers know where the Pilcomayo river begins. It is in the high plateau of Bolivia. Near Asuncion in Paraguay, a broad and beautiful river empties into the Paraguay river. It is called the Pilcomayo, and it is supposed that it is that river. But no man knows for no man has followed the great stream from its source to its mouth.

Men have tried to follow the Pilcomayo in canoes that were hung with hides to serve as protection against Indians who occupy the Chaco. But after days of fighting they were beaten back and accounted themselves lucky to escape alive. Some of the best men of South America have lost their lives there, and of their parties not one man escaped to tell what fate had befallen them.

Fiercest of the several tribes of Indians who hold Chaco against exploration are the Tobias and Chorotes Indians. They are utterly uncivilized, subsisting entirely on game, fish, wild honey and roots. Their few garments and shelters are made from jaguar skins. They rub pieces of wood together to make fire.

Most of them are gorgeously painted and tattooed and they ornament themselves still further with feathers and flowers.

They do not know anything about metal working and do not even use flints for their weapons, but make them entirely out of hard wood, even their arrows being made simply out of pointed wood.

They bore holes through their lips and ears and thrust a piece of polished wood through them. They are splendidly formed, immensely strong and agile, but hideous in countenance; and they will not have anything to do with strangers, but seek to kill them as soon as they find them. They fight fiercely among themselves, also, and it is believed that they are cannibals — at least part of them.

This is the county that has lured explorer after explorer in the last twenty years without letting one return. It appears probably that it will continue to defy the world for many years to come. — Ex.

The Gigantic, Creaking, Groaning Water Wheels of Syria

1916

Creaking, Groaning Monsters That Liven a City in Syria

Hama, in Syria, says a writer in the Wide World Magazine, is famed for its huge water wheels, locally known as naura. There are four of them, and they are driven by the river Orontes, which flows through the town. Each of the wheels bears a distinguished name, and the visitor to the city is made aware of their presence long before be sees them by the creaking and groaning noise which greets his ear. At first it suggests a pipe organ and later a brass band practicing.

The wheels are built of a dark mahogany, which gives them at a distance the appearance of iron. The largest of them boasts of a diameter of seventy-five feet and is declared to be the biggest water wheel in existence. The naura are erected on what is known as the undershot principle — that is to say, they are driven by the water striking them at their base. They serve not only to supply the town with water, but also irrigate the adjacent gardens.

The wheels never stop, summer or winter, and day and night their creaking and groaning are heard. In the summer months small boys may always be seen bathing in the river in the neighborhood of the wheels, and for a small coin they will get in between the spokes of the wheels and allow themselves to be carried around many times or bang on the outside or the wheel and drop back into the water when halfway up.

—Stevens Point Daily Journal, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, July 29, 1916, page 7.