Newspaper Page Text
I1H,
Gj
HE TOOK THE CASE. '
A irood girl yea, a pretty one
Sbe sent an editor a cake,
And in Bis bosom gratitude
Began a little place to take.
But O I the cae bad not been long
Beneath his vest before it fell
Afoul the pie gone down before,
"Great God 1" he cried, "I am not well?"j
The cate and pie they fought and fought :
The doctor came in booming hrste.
And drugs at once went up in price.
O, ne'er was death so boldly faced 1
The medicines attacked the pie ;
The medecine attacked the cake;
Then pie and cake allied did fight .
His many friends were at the wake !
LouiaVilU Courier-Journal.
CHOICE.
MAEGAEET STILLE.
If you're minded to choose your wife,
Yield not to the smiling and grace
01 the damsel who lures and enthralls
Wiih the spell of a beautiful face ;
For beauty is lUe the rose
Wituin thorns that have power to pain,
And bethink you that lragrance and bloom
Will pass, but the thorns remain.
Be not fain to win favor with her
Whose jest is as hharp as her ire,
Whose repartee cuts like the sword,
And whose wit has the brilliance of fire,
Lest you rue the keen edge of t tie blade
When incurring her ladyship's blame
Ah ! the poor silly moth, can he flee
When his wings are singed by the flames?
If concord, enjoyment and ease.
And helpful adroitness you prize,
Then search for th-maidtn of tact
And strive to find grace In her eyes,
As the sun she will gladden your sky,
Nor cloud it by word or by act ;
For the queen of her f ex, in sooth,
Is the Jtindly woman of tact.
ENVOY.
The beauty and wit combined
Scarce rarer is four leaved clover ;
If you beek lor the mind having these,
And the gift of tact moreover,
'Tis an angel you would for a wife ;
And unless you should be translated
I ween till the day of your death
You are doomed to bide uumated.
THINGS THAT NEVER DIE.
The pure, the bright, the beautiful,
That stirred our hearts in youth,
The Impulse of a wodles prayer,
The dream of love and truth,
The longing after something lost,
The fcpirit s yearniug cry,
The striving after better hopes
These things shall never die.
The timid hand stretched forth to aid
A brother in his need,
The kindly word in griefs dark hour,
That proves a friend indeed ;
The plea for mercy, softly breathed,
When justice threatens nigh ;
The sorrowings of a contrite heart
Ihese things shall never die.
Let nothing pass, for every hand
Must find some wort to do ;
Lose not a chance to waken love,
Be firm and just and true;
So shall a light that can not fade
Beam n thee from on higb,
And angel voices say to thee,
'These things can never die."
Was It Murder?
A STORY OF ITALY.
Traveling through Italy, a party of us
stopped one misty Summer day at the
little town of Pistoja. Next morning a
storm, kept us indoors. As I stood at the
window watching the torrents of rain, I
saw a stream of people hurryiDg in one
direction, despite the bad weather.
"Where are all those people going?" I
asked the landlord.
"Giulia Saviera is to be tried and sen
tenced to-day."
"Who is Bhe?"
"A young wife who murdered her hus
band." "How dreadful! Do you think she is
really guilty?"
"Yes, without doubt she is."
"Why did she do it?"
"That is & mystery; but it is hoped
that to-day she will confess her rea
sons." "Is it far from here to the court
room"'
"Ko the next corner,
est you to go."
Itmighiinter-
As the weather would not allow us
to visit points from which we expect
ed fine views, we resolved to attend the
trial.
When we entered the court-room it
was crowded with noisy, gesticulating
people, who became suddenly quiet on
seeing strangers. They really made
room for us, so that we got seats close to
the bar, judge, witnesses and court offi
cials. Before we were seated the hubbub
recommenced. But as soon as a door t
the left opened, it was so still that one
could believe that all present held their
breath.
A moment later ihe accused w as led
in by one of the officials. Her nun-like
garb did not hide the extraordinary
beauty of her face and figure. She was
evidently very young as we afterwards
learned, just fifteen years old. Her face
was pale, her profile noble, and her
cheeks had still a childish contour; but
the full lips were firmly compressed.
Her chief beauty was her abundant
curling hair, of the bronze red which is
still occasionly found in certain parts of
Italy. She was of medium size, but very
slightly built.
From our seats we cculd see and hear
all the details of the examination.
While the judge asked the preliminary
Suestions her glance was fixed on the
oor, her pale countenance bore a calm,
determined expression, but no sign of
obstinancyor malice. In happy days
she must have been lovely, for her
features were soft and mild. She gave
low but unhesitating answers to all his
questions.
The complaint against her was as fol
lows: Giulia, daughter of Matteo, de
ceased, had married six months previ
ously a young shepherd named Giovanni
Saviera. They had lived happily to
gether, one had known of any disagree
ment, when one day Saviera was found
in bed murdered. His throat had been
cat with a great knife which lay on the
ground near the bed. Giulia was found
with bloody hands and clothes. She
made resistance when they arrested her,
but at the first examination maintained
an
obstinate silence. To-day different
witnesses would
be called, and they
hoped to find an
awful deed.
explanation of the
The mother of the accused appeared
as the first witness. She made her state
ment amid tears and sobs. At the first
sound of her voice a shudder ran
through Giulia's slight form; she lifted
her eyes but dropped them at once, and
was again cold and silent.
"Oh! what shall I say concerning
my unfortunate child!" lamentnd the
mother. 'You, my lord, know, and all
those assembled here, you who have
seen her grow up, played with her, and
danced at her wedding all know that
she always lived in peace with us. Yes,
she was the happiness of our life, our
sunshine. Giovanni Saviera was her
only love he had long loved him, and
the dav that raw bar in Tier bridal dress
sha railed the hannipst in her life. I
have never heard them exchange un
kind words. Giulia was always mild
and good, although Giovanni sometimes
showed unlimited creed and avarice.
Oh. mv lord iudee. I cannot believe that
she has done such an awful deed, we"
may disagree and one stab the other,
but no vouncr wife commits such a crime,
Giulia, my child, say that you did not do
it." .,.
But Giulia remained immovable, with
aowncast eyes. Several witnesses were
ueard; all agreed that the young couple
had lived happily together. But why,
then, had she perpetrated this horrible
deed? , .
Giovanni's brother testified further:
"Two nights before Giovanni was found
murdered in bed, I went home with him
from the pasture. I had been up on the
mountain for more than a week with my
herd. Among other news of the village,
Giovanni told me of two Englishmen
who were passing some days here. He
intended, so he told me, to transact
some business with one of them, but
what sort of business he kept secret.
When we reached the village Giulia
came to meet us, and greeted us gayly
and cordially. She took a bundle oi
wood from Giovanni's shoulder, and
said, laughingly, that it belonged to her
to share his durdens. She was entirely
herself, prattling as usual. She had no
evil thoughts then. I will swear to
that. On the contrary, there was some
thing constrained and stiff in Giovanni's
bearing toward her. Next -day I asked
my brother how his business with the
Englishmen went. His face darkened,
he uttered curses, and answered that
they had gone. 1 laughed at him, for I
thought the stranger probably admired
Giulia's beauty, and Giovanni's jealousy
was the whole business. I did not see
Giulia the whole day, and Giovanni
said she had driven the herd, for they
Ised to change places to relieve each
other. Next moraine when I went, as
u had promised, to ask him to go with
me, I found him yet in bed. When I
called he did not answer, and on going
nearer I found him dead, with a gaping
wound in his neck and a bloody knife
on the floor. Horrified, I hurried to
seek Giulia, and found her busy chang
ing her clothes, but as I found blood on
her hands, 1 was frightened, and
hastened to have her arrested. I have
nothing more to tell, but I will swear
that Giulia is the murderer of my un
fortunate brother."
His testimony did not seem to make
the least impression upon Giulia, for she
preserved her marble quiet, a repose in
fearful contrast to her soft childish fea
tures. ler Drown Hands, wmen were
clasped, appeared so dainty and small
that I could not imagine how she could
wield a murderous weapon.
Still other witnesses testified. Bloody
clothing was recognized as belonging to
Giulia, and the knife with which the
murder was committed, as Giovanni's
property. There could be no more doubt.
Giulia had killed her husband. I could
have sworn to that. But why had she
done it? It was impossible not to pity
the beautiful young creature, and I could
not believe her to be the criminal, un
less some dreadful disgrace had befallen
her.
The judge now turned to the accused:
"Giulia; Saviera's wife, before the sen
tence is pronounced, you have the right
to excuse yourself, or, through a frank
and sincere confession, mitigate the de
cree. What have you to say?"
"Nothing," came clearly and distinctly
from the proud lips.
"Do you acknowledge yourself guilty
of this murder?"
"Yes."
"Do you feel no remorse over your
shocking act?"
For the first time she raised her glance,
and showed two eyes in which a con
suming fire burned.
"No."
"Do you not wish the deed undone?
that you had your husband alive again?
and that you were not guilty of his
death?"
"No! If he still lived I would do the
same thing again."
She said this in a passonate tone, quite
unlike her former quiet. She was ter
rible, but unspeakably beautiful to look
upon.
"Will you tell us what provocation you
had for the murder, and why you did it?
Perhaps Giovanni tormented you with
his jealousy?"
"Giovanni jealous !" and, shaking her
head, she laughed bitterly.
"Have you nothing to say that can
soften your sentence?"
"I do not wish any mitigation."
"Will you not say when the thought
of murder first came to you?" .
"Only two days ago."
"And until that time you loved Gio
vanni?" A flaming red spread over her face,
and it seemed to me that tears shimmer
ed in her eyes. She is not so hard, I
told myself; but a moment later she was
icy cold.
"The sentence can be passed some
days hence," the judge continued. "Fa
ther Rinaldo shall talk with you; perhaps
he can move you to greater candor, and
bring something to light which may mit
igate the decree."
"I have said all' I have to say," was
the cold answer.
The judge sighed, and sorrowfully
shook his head.
"Lead the prisoner back to her cell,"
he said to an official. "She has acknowl
edged her guilt, the last hearing has
taken place, the sentence can be passed."
As Giulia moved toward the door with
more the bearing of a queen than a crim
inal, her despairing mother rushed to
her, threw herself at her feet and em
bracing her knees, cried:
"0, Giulia, Giulia, my only child, my
sunshine, say but one word of consola
tion before you go, say that you repent,
and heaven will pardon your terrible
act. Only tell something which can be
an excuse for you, which can lessen your
guilt and my trouble, and I will press
you to my heart, for you are still my be
loved child. You must have been crazy,
beside yourself yon did not know what
you did 1 ' Oh, when you were still small
and rested in my arms, when you, a rosy
girl, went with me to my work; when
you stood a radiant bride how could I
then foresee what I should live to see
you? Oh, if yon could only ease my an
guish and show us that you are not so
hard and cruel ! Tell us, Giulia, tell us
why did you do it?"
During the mother's entreaties Giulia
softened, her bosom heaved, her eyelids
rose and sank again, and her lips trem
bled. She drew her mother close to her,
clasped her arms around her neck, and
whispered the words that we alone could
hear:
"Mother, he sold me 1"
Then she fell swooning to the floor.
i-a?a. "
TTUE IN THE CtOUDS.
Daring Ballooning AdTentnre Daring th
Franco-FrtiaslaH War.
The story I am about to relate hap
pened during the Franco-Prussian war,
in which the art of ballooning played
so important a part. The city of Paris
was formally invested on the 25th, of
September,"and the imprisoned inhabi
tants had no means of communication
with the outside world, save by means
of carrier pigeons and balloons. So
complete, however, was the system car
ried out, that every event which hap
pened in Paris was duly chromicled at
Tours, the seat of the governing powers,
dispatched balloonsjourneying to and
iro oany.
It is 6 o'clock a. m. The morning is
extremely fine, considering that it is
late in October. On an immense open
space in front of the large hall at Tours,
a space set apart for the accomodation
of the numerous experienced aeronauts
then employed in the government ser
vfee, walks to and fro Monsieur Gustave
Nadar, one of the most celebrated pro
fessors of aerostation. Occasionally he
looks up at the heavens, as if taking a
critical survey, and anon he turns his
gaze in the direction of a huge balloon,
then in the course of being filled, at a
short distance from him. Any one
could see that Monsieur Nadar was get
tine impatient. He is waiting the ar
rival of the private secetary of the
minister with important dispatches,
which he is to convay that day to Paris.
It is a service of great danger. The
interpid vovacer will have to pass over
the Prussian lines, where thousands of
men engaged in grim-visage war will
watch him, and secretly hope for some
fatality to befall him. His balloon, the
"Interpide," sways about majestically,
as though chafing under the restraint
placed upon it.
All is prepared, when Monsieur Barre,
the secretary, appears, carrying with him
a packet of documents neatly tied up,
and, presenting them to Monsieur Nadar,
speaks a few words of caution and ex
planation. The aeronaut takes the
packet, and in company with the secre
tary, hurried to the balloon. Nadar
lightly springs into the car; he stoops
and places the precious documents in a
kind of secret pocket, artfully concealed
under the drapery. Having done this,
he looked around thoughtfully at the
necessary paraphernalia placed ready to
hand, as though mentally assuring him
self that his assistants had omitted
nothing towards the means of carrying
out his perilous voyage in safety. Finally,
he tightened a strong belt which he wore
round his waist, from which could be
plainly seen a pair of bright looking six
chambered revolvers. In a quiet but
firm tone he called to the men, "Make
ready." Then, shaking hands hurriedly
with Monsieur Barre, who wished him
"success," the men grasping the ropes
had eased the huge machine up some
ten or fifteen feet, when directly came
the sharp command, "Let go."
Away the Intrepide rises straight and
swift as the arrow from a bow. For the
first ten minutes the balloon, although
checked in speed, seemed as if it had
not swerved a yard from a direct up
ward course. Soon the current of air
necessary, and calculated upon by the
aeronaut was felt, and she drifted swiftly
off in the direction of Paris. Steadily
and quickly was the journey being ac
complished. Eleven o'clock had arrived.
Monsieur Nadar was three thousand
metres in the air, and over the opposing
forces of the Prussians, which appeared
as though a liliputian host had taken to
the field, so minute didrthev appear by
distance. Fort Charenton was reached,
and Paris could plainly be observed.
Monsieur Nadar quietly congratulated
himself upon the ease with which he
was apparently, accomplishing his jour
ney. He was taking but little heed of
the surrounding prospect, his eyes being
fixed intently upon the distant capital.
Suddenly an exclamation of surprise
came from him. On his right hand ap
peared a huge balloon. He shaded his
eyes with his right hand to gain a clear
er view, for the sun's rays were bright
and strong in illuminating the atmos
phere around him. A second now came
to view on his left hand. Monsieur Na
dar now became alarmed, although long
before he had mentally resolved to die
rather than suffer himself to be made a
prisoner.
The French colors were soon flving
from the car of the Intrepide. Both the
stranger balloons immediately responded
by exhibiting the same tokens of nation
ality. "Friends, by all that'slucky!" exclaim
ed the excited Monsieur Nadar. But
vain were the endeavors to make out
the faces of his "friends." They studi
ously kept them turned from him. Near
er and nearer the machines were drawn
toward each other. The occupant of the
car beneath the-first balloon was now
near enough to be hailed by Monsieur
Nadar.
"Helloa!" shouted the aeronaut of the
government.
"Helloa!" answered the stranger.
"Who are you? What is your name,
and what is your purpose?" were the
questions asked one after another, in
tones of hurried excitement.
"I am beside you, Monsieur Nadar,
came in reply; "you see I know you. As
to my name, it is Carl Von Pack, princi
pal aeronaut to the Prusian forces, now
as thousands below us, and I am going
to carry you a prisoner to them."
At the conclusion of the above re
marks the Prussian hauled in the French
colors, substituting in their place those
of his own nation. He had in point of
fact been sent up by the Prussian com
mander less with a view to capture the
aeronaut himself than to obtain posses
sion of his dispatches.
Monsieur Nadar, nothing daunted,
quickly and fearlessly retorted: "Thank
you; perhaps you will capture me first.
And your companion yonder?" he ad
ded, pointing to the other balloon, as
yet out of speaking distance.
"You will soon discover," replied his
antagonist, at the same time firing at
him from a revolver, the latter taking
effect by passing through the neck of
the Intrepede, just above the French
man's head. The gas poured out with a
hissing sound from the bullet holes, but
Nadar was equal to the occasion, for in
a moment the punctures were stopped
with a strongly adhesive Bubstance
which he carried with him in case of
emergency. It was evidently -the de
sire of the Prussian to aim at the aero
naut rather than to destroy the balloon,
for the second shot passed through the
cordage close to him. Swift as thought
Monsieur Nadar thought of a rose to de
ceive the enemy, for on the second shot
he threw no his arms with a loud cry
and dropped out of sight in the car.
The Prusian, thus deceived, raised bim-
self to his full height and for the firtt
time during the novel warfare stood ex
posed to view, waving his hat in joy in
anticipation of his prize. Nadar onlv
required the opportunity, for a well
aimed shot from his revolver tnmhlprt
the fellow over, with a fearful groan of
agony, xxe uurecuy poured live or six
shots into the body of the balloon, which
instantly began to settle down on its
way to the earth, bearing with it the
dead body of the late exultant owner.
Our hero's attention was now called to
enemy number two, who had got near
enougn wj are, dui who had made nc
attempt to do so. Monsieur Nadar, con
ceiving that his intention was to grap
ple with him, flung out a bag of ballast,
and quickly rose above the coming ene-
m v 8llgnt iteration of altitude
brought the Intrepide in contact with a
fresh current of air which wafted it, as it
were, at an angle with the course pur
sued. The effect of this was to cause
the balloons to cross, the Prussian one,
at the time being below. It sealed hid
doom, for Nadar, watching his chance
with breathless anxiety, made all ready,
and at the very instant of crossing he
cut away the grappling iron which hang
underneath the car. With a crash it
tore through the enemv's balloon.
'Thought could hardly be quicker than
the flight to earth, a shapeless mass.
Monsieur Nadar, after this extraordin
ary victory, descended to the current of
air he was before journeying in, and, al
though an hour before the usual time
for accomplishing the passage. Paris was
reached by him and his dispatches were
delivered in safety.
For this heroic act he received a vote
of thanks from the then existing govern
ment, besides a handsome monetary ac
knowledgment. Nadar performed many
other journeys during the war, but none
that brought him into such close prox
imity with the Prussians as this aerial
combat.
' Milking.
Correspondence Stock and Home.
Some tell us to wet the teats; others
say that they should not be wet. My
plan of milking may be used as a com
promise between these two extremes.
First dust and clean the udder thou
oughly, then fill each teat successively
with milk and rub the end briskly on
the palm of the left hand, forcing out a
little milk with the right. This wets
the end of the teat, cleans the cavity of
dirt, and opens the pores of the fiesh,
making the milk flow more easily, the
stream more consolidated and the milk
clean. Thus we have the advantage
without-the disadvantage of milking a
wet teat, and the danger of droppings
from wet. soiled hands into the pail.
After we have thus prepared, then milk
as fast as possible. Much depends on
quick and dry milking. If the cow is
inclined to hold her milk, be very gen
tle with her, but continue to force the
milk into the teats, only milking out a
very little. It seems to work like an in
termittent spring; when the teat is
emptied the flowing seems to stop. By
gentleness, or a mess of feed, and pa
tience in milking, it is very generally
overcome. If the cow is inclined to be
fractious and kicks,be kind to her. Make
no fuss if she kicks you over; pick your
self up quietly, and pat her, and speak
pleasantly to her, and she will soon
think it is all a part of the same play.
If the cow has been roughly handled be
fore you had better send her to the
butcher at once. If it is a heifer of your
own raising, or has been used kindly,
you can make a gentle cow out o J her in
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. A
heifer well fed and kept well in milk
the first year after coming in is more
likely to be a good milker.
Four Great Generals.
The four greatest generals produced
by the great civil war on the National
side were Grant, McPherson, Sherman,
and Sheridan. One of the most pleasant
memories of American history is and
will forever be, the fact that between
these four great commanders there was
never the shadow of jealousy or envy.
It is the highest honor that Grant ever
received from men's judgement ord mi
ration that these three able captains all
willingly and always looked up to him
as their superior. McPherson fell in
battle before the splendor of his
abilities could attract the world's atten
tion, but in his death Grant, as he de
clared, lost one of the greatest per
haps the very greatest of his lieu
tenants. Sheridan, as in right of his
Irish blood, had the fiercest spirit in bat
tle. Sherman the greatest invention in
council, while McPnerson could fight
with the one and plan with the other,
but they all admitted, because they
knew and felt, that "the silent gray-eyed
man" was greater than they.
"Why," I asked General Sherman
once, "did you and Sheridan acknowl
edge Grant to be your leader?" "Be
cause," he responded in his idiomatic
manner, "while I could map out a do&en
plans for a campaign, every one of which
Sheridan would swear he could fight out
to victory, neither he nor I could tell
which of the plans was the best one;
but Grant, who simply sat and
listened and smoked while we had been
talking over the maps, would at the
end of our talking tell us wnien was
the best plan and in a dozen or two
words the reason of his decision, and
then it would all be so clear to us that
he was right that Sheridan and I would
look at each other and wonder why we
hadn't seen the advantage of it our
selves." "I tell you," he continued, after a
moment's pause, "Grant is not apprecia
ted yet. The critics of Europe are too
ignorant of American geography to ap
preciate the conditions of his cam
paigns. What is it to march an army
from Berlin to Paris? Look at the short
ness of the distance. Look at the mul
titude of roads, Look at the facilities of
transportation. Consider how many
times the same ground has
been, fought over by successive
commanders. Is not every point
of vantage known? What commander
can blunder where all the conditions lie
open to his eye? But I have seen Grant
plan campaigns for half a million of
troops along a front line 2,500 miles in
length, and send them marching to their
objective points through sections where
the surveyor's chain was never drawn,
and where the commissariat necessities
alone would have broken down any
transportation system of Europe; and
three months later I have seen those
armies standing where he said they
should be what he planned and accom
plished. And I give it as my military
opinion that General Grant is the great
est commander of modern times, and
with him only three others can stand
Napoleon, Wellington, and Moltke."
Montreal Qatttte.
m
STILL TO THE FRONT!
MORGAN & DANN,
Have just received their Fall and Winter Stock of , , . f
Dry Goods and Notions.
We Have the Largest and Best Selected Stock of
Caps, Gloves, Underweari Blankets
EVER BROUGHT
-OUR STOCK OF-
FLANNELS
CANNOT BE
Come and Examine Our Stock.
WE ALSO HAVE THE MOST COMPLETE STOCK OF
GROCERIES
I3ST THE
WE WILL NOT
TtA-KEEIVY,
MORGAN & DAM
JTJST RBOBI7BD
-AT-
E L L SWO R T H'S
100,000 FEET OF LUHBEB.
Go and Look Before Buying, for it is the
Best ever Brought to This
Market
Plenty of Corn, Oats and General Feed. Best
of Coal always on Hand.
BIG REDUCTION IN COAL
Colorado,
Rock Springs Lump,
Rock Springs Nut,
CASH PAID FOR WHEAT AND RYE.
Remember, that after January 1st, I wilf
Sell for Cash only. Don't forget it.
F.O.ELLSWORTH.
isswwm
TO THIS CITY.
& SUITINGS
EXCELLED.
Ko Trouble to Show Goods.
CITST.
BEUNDERSOLD
KANSAS.
$6.00
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