OCR Interpretation


The Wellington enterprise. (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, September 04, 1879, Image 1

Image and text provided by Ohio Historical Society, Columbus, OH

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn84028271/1879-09-04/ed-1/seq-1/

What is OCR?


Thumbnail for

ffc ,
V - o-l:.
:'VlJ vj- r , fit v' ? - r
!
II- II II I I I '
Vfcf . )t- , r , :!.-. .i r
A Family Newspaper, Devoted, to Home Interests, Politics,' Agriculture, Science,' 'Art,: Ioetryi ' Etc. ,
VOLUME XII.
WELLINGTON, 0., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER '4'9 1879.
NUMBER 50.
Ik
,Jn4v:.'
nfrr
mm
I 111
ii ii je i i r
ii 11
.-. HO.YK TM T7V. KT. T
How fair thtj were. darUnga twain,
o - - Wte walked adown tbe saea lane
. rT'rh,a sultry nacnat-davi
Uneonaciona of the rnctow charm
- ,vw Xbcry wandered on Uni waj
-. - On. wore her nni titin low.
J., i Cloee-breided o'er a hraw of mow,
Iita eoane erand Roman dame;
nera wrr. mom lamutooa, tvgt eyee,
1 rom wboee dark depth. Mimas BUana aria
4m. -
Was m he form and look;
A wild-nee oolor on her cheek,
: Brawn, lovinf eyes, em ten ted, meek.
Ana clear a Summer brook.
' T - -V-J .
And beard their lauxhterfloating
free.
Aoroucn Mie, Dappy Boars;
X.atraalinc cl oaten, aweet and ear,
Of
I watched them weave their asented spoil.
In eater baste, with playful toil.
And hwarbter hri my eyes; -
Tbey twined it on my faded brow,
Ah, BeavenI I have that aarland, now..
A ascrrd. moarafnl poail ,
Was it hues a they were my own.. -,;
I fancied eren betr lichteat tone ' "
More sawet than other sound ?
Waa it beeaaae I save them birth.
- athenWb. the nowhere in Oed a earth '
Ooaid fairer thing be found?
Waa U bat eVrthar mother', lore?
Or were my darhnga fair above
The playmates oftheir time?
JJrnew not then, nor now 1 know, ... ,
' v ; They W ai wTyreaefiad their geitne, j j
" BatthmlknowSwitbea ana me
Bolla yet the awful, tideka eea
. , That narta their world frees this:
' And well I know that where they are, 1
There ia no need ef eon or atar,
. Morneadef mother'e kiaa .
Bat e'er my beneyanckle wreath.
weaned heart wiii ten breathe
for tboae orient bewera. -
. , Eaeb boldinc for
bm in bar band.
uearana
tTtarSommd.
THE "DEATH BIO."
The old man st looking Into the fire.
hU elbows re ting on the ami of his
chair, while he gently tapped together
, the tip. of his fingers. " We Tnniees,"
: said he, thooghtf ully, and with a p&nse
- at almost every sentence we Yan-
kees hare bat a meagre oonoeption of
: the negro character, the real planta
' tion negro a fact I did not admit forty
years ago. Otway or, as everybody
' called him, Ot Kainsf ord and I were
' ' room-mates at Harvard. He was a fine
' fellow to look at, and a very fine fellow
to be with fall of life, overflowing with
, fan, wild; not so much because he was
I a fall-blooded Southerner, as because
-, he was an orphan with his fortune in
. his own hands, Most young men,
North or South, will be wild who have
a plenty of money, which, not having
earned, they do not know how to value.
One night, with a yawn, he threw down
his book and stretched himself on the
bed. I stood with my back to the fire.
- looking at him. Presently I said, 'So
'voq are going home for the holidays,
otr ' '
' ' " Tea Christmas on the planta
tion.' Thev sav voor necroes are to have
their freedom at your death. IsdotshoP
as the Dutchman ways. '
..- Dot is islto, replied Ot with an
other yawn.
- MIwonderyoa are not afraid to go
among them, said, L
He laughed - with genuine amuse
ment, and I asked if any other white
person would bo a, the plantation.
. - The overseer,' said Ot. Bat sap-
1 pose you go with me, old fellow V
But suppose the negroes make
- away with me toor -
Well, you will be no. great loss,
-' that I can see, replied my companion;
; and, adopting his view of the subject, I
" weit with him home. -
Arrived at the plantation, we had the
house all to ourselves, for his next of kin
was a married sister who lived in the
ad joining State, but we had as many
chambermaids and dining-room serv
ants, and servants of every other age,
sex and calling, as though Ot had been
a patriarch.
"The third morning after oar arrival
we were loitering over tne Dreaxxast-
table, each of us with a newspaper in
his hand. Plantation negroes were
more of a curiosity to me than to Ot,
so he was giving his entire attention to
t his paper, while mine was divided.
First appeared ' Aunt Fanny. the ideal
' Southern cook, shining black, ponder
ous, jolly exoept when on duty; every
hair confined by a gorgeous turban; her
. broad hips encircled by a hog cotton
apron. . The bill of fare was always
made out by herself and a most excel,
lent bill it was but she came every
day to inquire if her. young master de
sired any change in the mmnt. This
- morning, however. I observed her en
: trance with sarprise, because we were
not more than half through breakfast.
' and ih itaad silantlv oat of ranse of
; Ot's eye. - Next appeared one of the
.' honsamaids, who asked in a load, apolo-
-getio whisper if anybody had seed her
" broom. So one appeared to have seen
it, and she took up her station near the
cook. i Petrarch, the head waiter, stood
with his eye on the door, and none of
Kla .FirMirrlln.tna huHoMwl frnm thAir
places, though the supply of buckwheat
cakes was exBansten.
Go git some cakes, whispered
. uoero. - .......... L.r
Toa go vo'se'f.' returned Jim.
"Ot was still reading, and observed
neither the omission nor the whiaper-
"Soon appeared another housemaid
to look for aer broom. Misery loves
.Mnmm.nv. an nftt finninff wrbat mm
. t sought. Housemaid No. S planted her-
' wlf h, tha aide, of No. 1. Then in.
peared the coachman, who always came
- to receive orders for the day. ' He
seemed content to await his master's
leisure, and stood in dignified silence.
. . waiving, however, the prominence doe
v to his position, for he stationed himself
in the rear of the cook. Next came
one of the hostlers, 1 suppose in search
' of the coachman. A few moments aft
er appeared another woman servant
Housemaid No. S apparently, for she
' made various feints toward the side
' board, peeping under it, dashing round
it and muttering unintelligibly some
thing about her ' duster.
"This attracted Ot's attention, and
he glanced over his shoulder at the
group assembled behind him. Then he
turned in his chair. vUeed his open
hands on his knees, his elbows sticking
out at risht ancles, and stared solemn-
. ly at the crowd; The crowd began to
c gigg1 d seemed abashed, for- the
oook trod on the coachman a toes and
' the housemaids snickered behind their
r aprons. The header hid behind his
next-door neighbor, and,' spite of his
Thus, in a giggling, disorderly mass,
they huddled together near the door,
' each trying to hide behind the other.
-" Ot turned to Petrarch, the onlv one
'- who retained his place by right. VVhat
; the deuce does this meanr he asked.
- Bet before Petrarch could reply
. there p peered ia the doorway a stal
- wart negro, and behind him two or
three others, who appeared to be urg
ing him forward with nudges and whis
pers and encouraging digs in the ribs.
The fellow twisted a peaked old tan
colored felt hat between his fingers, and
appeared half dead with embarrass
ment. He wore the most comical bx
pression of bashfulness you ever saw in
your life. It would not have been so
fanny if he had not been .such a great
strapping dog; but as be lagged at the
door, and twisted his , shoulder, and
hang his head, and almost tore his old
hat in pieces, the other negroes laughed
outright, and I most confess I joined
them. (1 seon understood that the fel
low belonged to a neighboring pota
tion, and was here to ask Ot's permis
sion to come courting on bis premises.)
"Ot looked solemn as an owl: Well,
Jackr-
" S arrant, Mars OU "
"Ot looked at Jack, and Jack looked
at Ot, and the negroes looked at them
both, and nudged each other and gig-
gled. Finally, Jack looked down at
le floor, fairly wringing his old hat
with embarrassment, and broke into a
laugh which betrayed an expanse of
scarlet gums and 'White teeth truly ap
palling. " What's your will if you had it,
JackP asked OU. ., m
Which I cum ober. sah. f er ter ax
you- de liberty o de plantashnn,sn.
u, tnat s wnat you're alter, is itr
asked Ot; and turning to the cook,
added, 'Step oat, Aunt Fanny; Jack
wants you.'
" There waa a shout of laaffhter. and
Aattt Fanny's fat sides shook -as she an
swered, contemptuously, Lor', Mars
Ot! I done spank dat nigger too often
for stealin' biskit oaten de ubben an'
foolin'roun' my kittles an' pans! 'Tain't
me he's arter.'
" Who is it. Jackr t
" Well. Mara Ot.' said Jack. who.
havingrnhde the pnngf and survive1
the shock, spoke with renewed confi
dence in' himself well. Mars Ot, ef I
bad my ruthers, I rather have Lucin
dy. " let .bucinaa appear, saia ul, sol
emnly.
"Whereupon a pout of curious
house-maids, with feigned vivacity and
tittering hasteJ wenf so fetch LAdada.
. " Lacinda. - sai Ot,i as the-dusky
maid appeared with drooping head and
sidelong glance, half willing, half
afraid -iwucinds, jactc wants to marry
Aunt fanny.
" ' Lor, now. Mars Ot! Lucindy, she
know better n dat, remonstrated Jack,
with a reassuring glance toward his
fair. ; 'i
' Me, sirF saidLucinda, scornfully.
to Ot. Me, sir. No, sir. ain't no
manneraverjeckshansir,' running her
words together and ostentatiously turn
ing her back on Jack; ''specially ef
Aunt Fanny, the ain't.
I didn't mean Aunt fanny; jack
says it is you he wants.
O, pshor now. Mars Ot! and Lu
cinda seemed attempting to escape
from the detaining hands of her sister
nouse-maias, but, aoas&ea pernsps oy
Jack's tender glances, she ran in every
direction exoept toward tne -open- door.
Teu see. Jack, you had better go
home, said Ot, resuming' his paper
f Lucinda did not run so fast,) or, bet
ter still, suppose you take one of the
others r (They all let go Lucinda, and
she might have run as fast as -she
pleasedT)
" jack oonruseaiy turned nis net in
side out, and virtually rejected this of
fer, so Ot continued: Take yourself off
now. Jack, and you are not to come on
my plantation. Don't show your, face
here again; do you understand" :
"The crowd looked on in dismay.
for it had been understood that Jack
and Lucinda were to be marrieddaring
the Christmas holidays."'
"Ot continued. 'X won t have you
bothering the women-folk and spoiling
their Christmas; so .take yourself, on;
and don't come back again? -pees that
suit you Lucinda?
" Lucinda bit the corner ot her apron.
and dolefully made answer,: Jes' as
you say. Mars Ou . .'J '
O no; it shall be just as you say.
r ve no objection to Jack myself.' . 1 :
An i n sore l ve no manneruver-
jeckshun to. his comin on ,de planta-
hun. ALara ut. n ain't ss'Uin' of
no thin', as I knows on its' and LacindsJ
quite bit off the corner of her apron.
"Dar now. Mars' Ot, said Aunt
Fanny with a motherly laugh, ebbedy
know what she mean by dat.' . j
I don't; what does sne meanr
." 'Hy, Mars Ot, she mean !
De grapevine walk an' Be fence-rail flUln,
I'll marry yon, ef to a Is wulin'.'
" That's it? Get her a dress, then.
and bake the cake. Buti tjackjf which
plantation are you going to steal from t
mine or your master Frank's P
Jack burst into a nuge guffaw;
Lor', Mars Ot! I ain't gwine steal
from na'y one,, lessen ear's a camp-
itin - trwlue voasahi- UenJ you
know.. all on us. ia suaV so'shese, 4m ix-
pense; an' somttisMs; 'Jf itf
'Ami f xz7 a fe.fnr1 Kaitam it" vrrtioh H
folks we borrers from saout net' rally
call it stealin. I don't blame 'em fer
44 And how often do you mean to
beat your wife!" .' !
" ' Lordy mossy. Mars Ot! I wouldn't
krek dat gal, not ler nouun' inaewuri ,
lessen she 'served it.
44 4 Well, see that you don't. You may
cut oat now. And, Lucinda, see that
you don't deserve it, for it's my opinion
a an a m .
that you'u eaten u u you uo. . vome.
Uawthorne. tne nurses are at tne ooor.
As we rode throogh the magnuioent
old woods I could not bat be struck by
tne wonderful animal spirits, tne exu
berant life, of T companion. Life!
life! life! Every tone of his voice, every
look of bis blue-black eyes, every mo
tion of his fine athletic figure, gave you
the idea of life and the enjoyment of
life. He whistled and sang and joked
and laughed, till I saw that he appre
ciated the fact of his having nothing to
do but to enjoy himself. r '
44 He presently stopped at a, bend in
the creek along the banks of which we
were riding. . ,
"Hallo, Uncle Jake! looking for
yarbsP This to the funniest-looking
old negro you ever saw, who seemed to
be stealthily peering about among the
dead leaves and dry bushes. He ap
peared to oe at least a nunared and
fifty years old, was as black as ink, and
wore a natural skull-cap of gray wool.
The rest of him was made up of wrin
kles ana two little restless black eyes.
set very close together for a negro, giv
ing them an expression of extreme cun
ning. 1 was not surprised to learn that
he was supreme among the negroes, es
pecially as a trick-doctor, conducting
his rites with great ceremony and tak
ing advantage of every opportunity to
perform nis outiandisb tricks.
"Yes. sah ' said he in renlv to Ot.
I'm arter verbs fer de f eber. .whieh it
will hit de plantashun. naix dark o' de
moon. . f 1 4 i
- 44 4 That's the Christmas-log.. I sup
pots T said Ot, pointing with his whip
to a dark object bobbing np and down
in the water. Turning to me, he ex
plained: 'The negroes have holiday as
long as they can keep the Christmas-log
burning, so tne rascals usually get the
biggest specimen of black gam they can
find i you know what a fine grain it has
and soak it in the creek about ten
days; and, by George! there's no telling
how long the thing will last.
An' ef Death comes ter de planta
shun while de log's a-burn in', all de
niggers helps to squinch it, an der
ain't no mo' holiday, no mo goin's on,
said Uncle Jake impressively, compress
ing his lips.
44 is dot shor inquired OL
44 I ain't nebber seed de squinchin'
o" de log but onct, and dat were in
Loozvannv more'n forty year aero. Dev
calls it de 44 death-rain' down dar.'
44 4 1 wonder if you'd all " squinch"'
the loar and five up your holidays if
Death should take me for a ChristmrJt-1
gift to old master some fine morning"
" in oert'ny, in cert ny. Mars ut;
but I hope you ain't gwine try us, sah.
" Ut laugnea, and we rode en.
" I wonder, Ot,' said J, that you al
low that old fellow to Dut such notions
in the negroes' heads. Ten to one (from
what I've seen of them), they will all
f all Ul when lee, moon, wenea f r
44 4 Like as. noV aaid he, 'carelessly;
but their faith In "hinfas a prophet.
which makes them fancy themselves ill,
is oounterbalan'oed by their faith in him
as a doctor, which will make them all
well airain so vou sec it's as J) road as
it'awanav lfe--lhwne.'-f you will
turn to. US9 tcev -q louotz-i&at road.
you win have several capital
Views and
smooth gallop. I am going over to
Henaley's to look at that mare, but I
am going by the Devil's Path, and you
might not fancy it.'
a jfsyswnrMaqa. we parted, ut turn
Hng LqJ 9iaf saddle when he had gone
about twenty yards to ask me to tell
Herndon the overseer to meet him at
the foot of the mountain at three
o'clock.
1 delivered the message to Hern
don, and at the proper time he set oat,
but the true word that is spoken in jest
seemed in this instance verified, for he
did not return till night; and when he
came, young Hensley came with him.
They sent for me to come on the
portkxx . We stood talking a ' while;
then I went with them a little way
down the avenue.: i- .-.,..
There were four of Mr. Hensley' s
negroes carrying rough! bier. On it
rested a rudely-made pine coffin. A
couple of other negroes held. torches
that smoked and flared and let fall
great drops of biasing turpentine. They
smoked and flared and seemed to Strug-
fie with the pale, uncertain light of the
alf moon; and the magnolia-leaves
I never hear the hard dry rustle of
magnolia-leaves without seeing a rough
oo 0in colored by the red light of pine
torches, 'the heavy black smoke curling
around and about, casting its sullen
shadow over all ever the rough coffin
and among the magnolia-branches, and
into the faces of the awe-stricken ne
groes Who held the bier."
Here tne old man paused ana looxea
thoughtfully into the fire, till some one
asked him to go on.
44 The news spread like wild-fire that
Otway had been thrown from his horse
while coming down the Devil's Path on
his way home from Mr. Hensley' s, and
the place was filled with the wildest
lamentations." I 'cannot' assert that I
-eve svttoessed what appeared to me
rmofeginuraBtfrief than the negroes
cviniasu ou uvnruig Ul uw uouu ut msir
young master:
44 The coffin was borne into the hoase,
bat remained unopened,' young Hens
ley and Hemdon agreeing that the
mutilated remains should not be ex-
posed. Although the house and greunds
were crowded witn negroes, tbey were
not allowed to enter the room more than
two or three at a time. . In some in
stances the scene was very affecting.
When his old mammy came' in and
dropped down by the side of the coffin
(I knew she really bad been faitnfal,
and the coy loved her,- his mother had
been dead many and many a day), she
didn't cry; it was only a feeble, pitiful
kind of whine. J I felt sorry. .. .
After s while old Jake came in and
asked, 4bat they might drench the
CfhrTstmas log and end the holiday re
joicing. Herndon gave permission,
and the scene that, took, place that
night' was -really pathetic. : 1 There
were certainly.i nofe-t fewer than five
hundred negroes present, men, wom
en and children: and there were, it
seemed to me, hundreds of binetorohea
swayed about-io. .tbe. crowd. Under
Jake's saipeswisim taxied selected an
open space in tne iorest, ana dragged
into it the half -consumed lor. that looked
like one solid, living coal, and placed
near it j huge vessel . ot water sur
rounded by moss and stones, which
gave it the appearance of a natural
spring, uere a number oi tnem gath
ered and commenced a series of wild
Hut apparently concerted movements
Kef the meet grotesqee nature eoneetva-
bie, throwing themselves into uncoutn
attitudes, their arms in tne air and
beads back or resting almost on their
shoulders; using frantic gestures bow
ing their foreheads to the earth, joining
hands and dragging each other round
in circles, to part suddenly, precipitating
themselves almost into the flames even
their lips and eyes partaking of the
strange contortions. I was amazed to
find such a scene enacted in the nine
teenth century.
Then thev began a low murmuring
chant, exceedingly sweet and plaintive.
and song nardly aoove Dream, yet so
numerous were the voices that it most
have been heard at a great distance;
and as the sound was taken up, spread
ing like a wave, tbey began to me slow
ly before the Christmas-log, each one
as he passed throwing on it a handful
of water from the spring. Jack and
Lucinda went forward hand in hand
and helped to quench the now dying
embers, but separated there and
walked away by different paths, sym
bolizing, as 1 afterward learned, the
postponement of their union. The
death-rain had continued a lone time.
the glowing coals of the Christmas-log
were growing black and lifeless, and
the murmured chant was slowly dying
away, growing fainter every moment,
while the torches began to disappear.
here, there, everywhere one - by one, in
every direction, till there was little light
left but that of the moon, which gave
in indistinct outline the crowd of dark
fisrures extending into the forest.
44 4 O, honey! honey P cried Ot's mam
my as she tottered up and the water
fell in a tremulous shower from her
poor old fingers 4 oh, honey! Yo' ole
mammy is done shed tears naff dis day
ter squinch de log. De def-rain for her
boy is done put out de light in yo' ole
mammy's heart.'
" Hallo, mammy! don't cry. Your
bov's come back.' said a familiar voice;
and in our ' midst appeared a fine ath
letic fellow witn Diue-ftieoK eyes ana
long moustache and a jolly voice, such
as never dead man had; yet so great
waa the panic that many of the negroes
fainted; great strapping corn-field ne
groes, men and women, actually fainted
From fright. Those who .could com
mand their muscles fled screaming from
the place, and, as we afterward found,
some of them ran till they fell ex
hausted on the road, miles away from
home.
44 Bat Ot gave them a rattling good
time to make up for it. There was no
end of fun for the rest of the holidays.
Jack and Lucinda were married, and
every negro within a circuit of ten
miles came to the wedding. Ot de
clared that if nobody else would dance
with his old mammy, he would do it
himself; and he dragged her she was
as stiff in the knees as a pair of tongs
and as weak in the ankles as a month
old baby oat on the floor, and twirled
her around, and held her arms above -her
head: and made her trio no and
down the floor, and bow her head and
twist her back, and hop backward and
forward, to the right and to the left,
while she begged and prayed and
laughed till her turban fell off, and we
were all fairly shouting, and tne old
creature was too exhausted to remon
strate or laugh any longer. Ah, a jolly
boy was Otr
44 What became of him?"
44 He sot married, erew fat, and was
a good family-nag the last I heard of
him." Jennis WoodviUe, in LippinantCt
Magazine.
- The Geed Bey at the Picnic
The good boy comes home from the
picnic clean discouraged and badly
mashed. Indeed, he is of tener brought
home dead. The bad boy has a whoop
ing old time from the very outset, and
returns home chuck-full of figs and
candy, and enthusiastic to- go again.
When the good boy's dad has made up
his mind to take the family to a picnic
on some shady island or distant shore,
the boy doesn t jump np and declare
that be wont wear white pants, or that
he is bound to go barefooted, or that he
must have half a dollar in cash and a
revolver. On the contrary, the good
boy's chin is at rest; he is in his mother's
hands, and he trusts her with all ar
rangements regarding his sacred per
son and property. Before leaving home
tne good boy is thus solemnly addressed
by his devoted mother, and the ad
dress" is accepted, adopted, and filed by
his respected father, who was a boy
once himself:
44 Now. then, young man. we are go
ing to a Sunday-school picnic, and I
want to sav a few words to you. If you
lose your hat on the cars I'll box your
ears till they ring! If you don't stay
right with me and your father i ll lick
you before all the folks! If you sit on
the grass and stain those pants you
know what you'll get! If you dare go
in a boat, go into the water, shoot a
pistol, climb a tree, wrestle a boy, or
tease your father for money to buy
candy or lemonade I'll take your hide
off and hang it on the fence the very
minute we get borne I "...
That's the music the good boy has to
face when he starts for a picnic and if
he doesn't start out with smiling face
and buoyant step he may get his ears
cuffed before he reaches the depot. If
any one has to stand up in the cars it is
the good boy. If there are any cinders
flying they settle on the good boy's
white pants and hat and lodge in his
eyes. If any one falls flat on the plat
form or into the mud at the getting-off
place it is the good boy, while the bad
boy, who has come all the way on the
roof of the car, having dead-loads of
fun, meets with not the slightest acci
dent as he descends. On the contrary,
he is almost certain to find a basket of
luncheon which no one claims, . and he
runs his chance of picking up gold-
headed canes, bottles oi ginger-ale,
pocketbooks, and watches on the way
over to the grove.
The good boy's father, on reaching
the grove, buys himself a glass of lemon
ade to get the dost oat oi bis throat,
and follows it with a dish of ice-cream
to cool his system. The good boy him
self isn't supposed to have any dust in
his throat, or any system to cool off. If
he is very thirsty he can drink water
provided his mother doesn't catch him
at it.
The bad boy skins up a tree, hangs
by his heels, finds a bird's nest, eats
slippery-elm and June-berries, and the
good boy must sit on a cracker-box and
watch the family umbrella. The good
boy's mother braces up with a draught
of currant wine, and his father takes
some ginger-ale to prevent sun-stroke
and then retires to a shady spot to
f smoke a cigar.' li tne" good ooy reels
like squandering the old-fasbioned
penny he "has had. In his" bank" f for
seven long years, one look from this
mother freezes him to that cracker-box
so fast that a pony couldn't draw him
Oft t -i ' i ( -i T . r '-' I "'.
"The bad boy has at least fifty cents
to spend as he pleases. He rows a boat;
he goes in swimming; he throws stones;
he swings-on wild grape-vine; ' he
climbs bills ana rocks, and slides down
banks, and although some deacon with
a face as solemn as a garret window in
a deserted tannery predicts that he will
be killed or drowned, he is the liveliest
one of the lot when the party makes
ready for the homeward trip.
- Instances have been known where a
good boy evaded his mother's eye and
bought a pop-corn ball, but it always
choked him. If he dared to climb a
tree he fell and broke his arm. If he
got hold of peanuts or lemonade he was
made dreadfully sick, ii ne went near
the water he was drowned. A good
boy's parents should and do take aheap
oi oomiort at a picnic i ne good noy
himself might as well take a seat in a
graveyard and try to be happy with a
broken penny whistle. Up to the time
of taking the cars for home he may
have behaved himself in such a manner
as to win a word or two of praise from
his mother, bat ho is sore to jam his
hat, break a suspender, lose his hand
kerchief, or do something on the way
home to induce the old lady to remark
as she reaches bome and removes her
bonnet:
44 Now, young man, you step out here!
Things have come to a pretty pass if
we can't take you anywhere with us
without your cutting up so as to dis
grace us forever! - Stop that blubber
ing, sir, and let me say that the louder
you holler the harder I shall lick! "
Free Pre.
A colored debating society in Lee
County, Oa., recently had- before it for
discussion: " Which are the Most Ben
efit to the Country the Lawyers or the
BuEzardsr After a heated debate, the
auestipn wasjBnallj settledL ifljayor of
lie buzzards. Albany Argut.
Whm a woman finds she" cannot af
ford a new dress she economizes by
spending as much as it would have cost
in buying ribbon to cover the old ene
up wftii bowsl-jrt4i4rvW Btuart
Twe Pictures.
- t ' - !
A brief statement from Washington
declares that in the year ending June
SO, 1879, 141,931 immigrants arrived in
this country as against 103,062 in the
previous year.- This tide of emigration
has set in again, and is steadily flowing
to the Northwest. Not five per cent, of
the arrivals go to the South, and cer
tainly the South wants fresh blood and
mnscle as much as the West. Why is
it that this, the most favored portion of
the country, is thus passed by? The
South is rich in everything to invite
emigrants; with rich soil, mighty rivers
and an incomparable climate; with
mineral wealth that is Waiting to be de-
veiopen, it would be thought that that
would be the goal of those seeking
homes in a new country. : The advant
ages of the South are not unknown.
Emigrants have gone there some to
stay, but the larger number te return.
In a speech made in the House of Rep
resentatives, April 26, 1879, by the
Hon. R. G. Horr. of Michigan, the fol
lowing occurs:
"When I was in that country rthe
lower peninsula of Michigan I asked
men why it was they sought home in
such a cold climate when the South was
full of unoccupied lands. One gentle
man told me he had tried to live in the
South, but that having been a Union
soldier, and having settled in Mississip
pi near where (Jhisholm and bis iamily
were murdered, he .was compelled to
flee for his life Another in
telligent appearing gentleman stated to
me that he, too, had tried to live in the
South; that while he was there he was
under no fear of his life, but he claimed
that the people treated him with each
indifference on account of his political
notions that he could not stay." '" ''
All this, we are aware is an old story.
but in considering the reasons' that the
South, if not retrograding, at the most
is only making slow progress, while the
rest of the country is Bteadlly advanc
ing, it cannot be passed over, for it con
tributes not a little to those - conditions
which are so seriously operating against
the Southern portion of . the .country.
It can be claimed for the. South,, of
course, that having been the theater of
war, it would be unnatural to expect
that prosperity could attend it, especial
ly alter having passed the war it fell
into the clutches of the "carpet-baggers,"
but that there is really no good
ground for such assumptions is wit
nessed in - the fact that last year
the . crop of . the great staple of
the South was greater than ever
before in the history of the country.
This then proves the South is not wholly
prostrate; that it has made some prog
ress, but while it has been creeping
forward the rest of the country has been
going at a canter. I ourteen years have
elapsed since iee laid down bis arms at
Appomattox, and in that time the Na
tion has grown as in no corresponding
period. Up to the panic immigrants
poured in in an increasing stream each
year, few went to the South; all to
the west. Why was thisr The south
had more to offer than the North, but
the immigrants,- who had heard- the
stories of blood and - outrage, sought
the colder North. This is one way the
South has stood in its own light. There
has also been a disposition evinced to
repudiate obligations. Rings have taken
bold of the Uovernmenu in tne en
deavor to make a Democratic close cor
poration bold and unscrupulous men
have acquired power and wielded it to
their own pecuniary advantage The
condition to which Louisiana nas been
brought since the close of .Governor
Kellogg's Administration is a ease in
point. .It is idle to assume that the
present demoralization of the South is
attributable to the effect of war. It
can be directly traced to the indolence
and apathy of the people end of their
stubborn objection to the presence of
strangers, in the fear evidently that
they will be deprived of political power.
Could other rulers have brought Louis
iana to a more desperate condition than
Nichols has? As to the apathy and in
difference of the people to their own
interests, the case of Memphis is one in
point. Had the people there been as
industrious and energetic as they ought
to have been, yellow fever would not
be epidemic there to-day. The South
wants new blood, new men, and differ
erent government before it will be what
it ought to. It has in it all that makes
a country rich and prosperous, but, in
stead of being this, it is a debt-ridden,
badly-governed country whieh .-gets
along in a happy-go-lucky way. It is
like the drunken, swaggering scion of
an old house who haunts taverns,
boasting of his greatness? .while his
heritage is going to the dogs -N. T.
Commercial Advertiser. :l.t , ,.,
Greenback Sophistries. .
It is the opinion of Mr. Solon Chase,
of Maine that the country . ought to
have more money. Not. in unlimited
quantity, for Mr. Chase, unlike many
Greenback statesmen, does not believe
that if legal tender bills were as plenty
as sand on the sea-shore or leaves in
the forest, they would still have value.
His idea is that the general average of
prices is twenty-five per cent, lower
than it was in 1860, and that this ought
to be remedied, in the interest of the
debtor class, and can be remedied only
by an additional issue of legal-tender
notes. It does not seem to him that
this would be repudiation; it would only
restore property to what he considers
its normal value That he may be mis
taken as to what is the normal and
proper value of property does not seem
to him oossible nor has he ever con
sidered, apparently, that the normal
and proper value of property of many
kinds has greatly changed since I860;
in consequence of inventions, which
have cheapened the production of many
articles; in consequence of the cultiva
tion of new lands and the reduction in
the cost of transportation, which have
reduced the sum necessary to repay the
farmer for the production of each bushel
of wheat or corn; or in consequence of
the great changes in price whicn nave
occurred in other countries. ' '
' Like many enthusiasts, Mr. Chase is
careless as to his facte The average
of prices has at no time been reduced,
since 1861, to a point twenty-five per
cent, below the average oi isou, a year
of. great prosperty. The lowest level
was reached about October 1. 1878,
when the average was , about $85,
ao-ainst $100 in 1860, a decline of
fifteen per cent. But an advance in
average prices began in 1878, and has
continued all this year, with little in
termission. The level was hardly ten
per cent, lower than that ot 1860 in
January last, and there is not a single
economist of repute, probably, who
will contend that the average of prices
now is more than six or seven per cent,
below that of 1870. This is certain, at
least; that the most elaborate tables of
nrioeeembraoing several hundred arti
cles, show that the decrease hat not
been, at any time sinoe the war, more
than about fifteen per cent, from the
level of 1860, and that there has been a
material advance since January 1.
What reason has Mr. Chase, or any
body else to claim that prices should
be artificially put back to the level of
1860? Why is that year selected, in
stead of 1857. when the average was
much higher t -Why is it selected in
stead of 1843, when prices were very
much lower than in 1860 or in 1878 f
Has it been revealed that the prices
which happened to prevail in the year
before the war were exactly at the
proper and normal level t The truth is
that the prices of 1860 have often been
taken as a standard, merely because men
were looking for assurance that the coun
try had got back to theneighborhbod of
specie values; but there is no reason
knovn to the. ablest students for be
lieving that the relations of industry
were more natural, or that prices were
more healthy then than 'id other years
-preceding. - There had been a great in
flation whicn culminated in I8d7, ana a
great collapse which passed away in
1858, but itis not for any man to say at
what point prices afterward reached a
natural and proper leveL" .'
It is the ' idea of Mr. Chase and his
friends, apparently, that this world and
this country have no business . to im
prove in condition or in development of
industry. Obviously, if the world does I
grow at ail, it snouia cost less oi numna
labor to buy things now, and therefore
less of any money which fairly corre
sponds in buying power with human ;
labor, than it cost twenty years ago.
Labor-saving machinery has been vast
ly multiplied and improved. Enormous
tracts of fertile land, previously un
touched, have been reduced to cultiva
tion. Millions of slaves or serfs have
been emancipated, here or in Russia,
and have proved that the free man can
produce at lower cost - than . the slave
Railraeds br the hundred "thousand
miles have been, built, vastly reducing
the cost of moving , products from the
distant producer to the consumer. ' All
these things have 'necessarily changed
prices ' very - much. The tendency- of
them all the tendency, of all impor
tant and enduring improvements in the
condition of mankind has been to low
er prices in this country and to lessen
the number of days labor needed to
procure a certain supply, of wants.
Are we to say that this change alone
does not warrant a decrease of six or
seven per cent, in prices ''
" But if prices are too low now, what
sense is there in robbing each other in
order to make them higher? The the
ories, of Mr. Chase reduced to their
simplest terms, involve a great wrong
to all consumers and to all creditors in
this country. ' They mean that the
workman shall have to pay more for
his food and clothing,- and shall lose
part of the value of his ; money depos
ited, in a savings bank. . They mean
that the greatimprovement in industry,
which specie resumption has brought,
shall be reversed, and that trade and
commerce shall be pat back to the con
dition of uncertainty and stagnation
which. existed so long, and filled the
land with the cries of the unemployed.
A natural and just arrangement - of
prices will come has nearly come al
ready, we believe through the ex
change of goods and of gold between
this and other countries. The specie
comes, because this country can pro
duce at lower rate than other countries,
and will cease to come whenever prices
have been restored to a natural level.
That sort ot adjustment is in progress
every day, and will probably be com
pleted long before Mr. Chase could get
to Congress to offer a bill about it
Why should we .meddle with the .ar
rangement which wiser laws than any
of human origin are making for ne
N. T. Tribune. ' ' L
m . m
Herns ef a Democratic Dilemma.
The Yazoo affair has become part of
the history of the times. The assassi
nation of Dixon was a political mnrdor
committed -by -the Democratic party,
not of Yazoo County alone bat of the
ct.ta Miaaiaainrti. This is not and
cannot be successfully disputed. Now
we propose to snow mat we muruieru
wing of the Democratic party is parti
dp crimini that it shares, in the
guilt of the bloody deed. . Such an out
rage would be impossible at the North;
Northern public sentiment, whether of
Republican or Democratic origin, would
revolt at the spectacle of a partisanship
so violent as to .cause bloodshed here
Apolitical organization at the North
which should be suppressed by murder
would instantly reassert itself with four
fold strength. Why, then, is the Dem
ocratic party North almost silent on the
subject of the Yasoo- atrocity f. Sup
pose the success or failure of the Dem
ocratic party of Mississippi could have
no possible effect upon the fortunes, of
the Democratic ' parry of the whole
country? Is any man so stupid as to
doubt that Democratic speakers, and
Democratic journals, and Democratic
Conventions at the North would join
heartily with Republicans in denounc
ing assassinations like that at Yazoo?
They would find their account in doing
se even if no higher motive should gov
ern them. Every Democratic assassi
nation in Mississippi or Louisiana
weakens the Democratic party North.
The Baltimore Qatette, a Demo
cratic paper, admits that the . ruffian
ism ot the Democratic party in Missis
sippi "will reflect with great severity
on the Democrats of Mississippi and the
whole country." Why, then, do the
Democrats North refrain from exerting
their entire moral force in an effort to
suppress such outrages ? Why do Dem
ocrats North deal gingerly with Demo
cratic assassinations South when they
realize that every political ' murder
South alienates voters from the standard
ot the Democratic party North? They
are disgusted witn assassination (i) w
. 1 4 V
Aanaa.it ia an awful Crime and (z) be-
Mnu it nnllta them VOtBS. ' WhV dOn't
they "cry aloud and spare not'' in de
nunciation of Southern outrages which
shock their moral sense and react so
disastrously upon their local party in
terests? The answer is plain. ' The
South is solidly Democratic only by rea
son of the shot gun policy.' Stop assas
sination, terrorism, wuuuuauwu uu
fraud, and five Southern States Mis
Alabama. South
Carolina and Florida will be immedi
ately transferred into tne nepuDiican
column!' These States cast thirty-seven
Electoral votes sufficient to overcome
Ohio and Indiana, and two more than
enough to overcome New York, in the
Electoral College! Mississippi is Re-
tublican, on a fair vote, by 25,000 ma
ority. Says the Okolona State'.
"Tree, the bUc . race has a majority in
many towns, counties and States of the South.
True, si a rule the ant, the last, and the
whole of them are Kadlcsls at heart, tod will
vote the Radical ticket whenever they hare
half a chance. We all know this and admit It.
Bat theae facts make no dlfterenoe HO Plr-
rSRBMCB WBaTSVBB.
Henoe the shot-gun policy becomes
significant. It is far-rs aching. A cer
tain degree of intimidation and terror
ism and a certain number of assassina
tions; .and if all these fail; a certain
number of tissue ballots in the five
States named serve to nullify the Electr
oral votes of the two great States, Ohio
and Indiana, or the great State of New
York! . Hence the groveling attitude of
the Northern Democratic press on the
subject of Southern ' outrages against
the rights' of free opinion, free speech
and free ballots. Northern Democratic
journals and speakers stand between
two fires. If they insist upon fair elec
tions at the South, they lose five States
held in the Democratic Electoral col.
urnd by bulldozing; If they wink at
bulldozing, they shock - and drive from
the party standard thousands of respect
able Northern Democrats. In this
view of the case and this is the only
view which' commends ' itself ' to' the
spirit of candor, every Democratic
leader of opinion, at the Nortb is acces
sory to all the outrages oommitted at
the South with the corrupt purpose of
retaining power in the hands of the
minority. Thus the Democratic party
North is implicated in the assassination
of Dixon. His blood is upon its skirts.
It ia in the position of a man who wit
nesses a brutal muruer, bat neither lifts
his hand to stay the arm of the assassin
nor bis voice 1 to - protest against the
atrocious deed. Respectable Democrats
of the North, how dq you .like this as
sassination? Can you afford to sustain
a party which seeks political power by
assassination? Canyon, as members of
peace-and-order loving Northern com
munities, consent longer to be made
parties to a conspiracy which grasps
after National power through the main
tenance of an armed despotism in sis
ter communities of the South?' Can you
hope for good government at the hands
of a party which tolerates mob violence
and excuses murder? Chicago TrU
bun. ' ' v "'
i 1 . a : v i. . ; .
The Mississippi Plan. .
. Touching this Mississippi plan " of
bringing about political results, the At
lanta Constitution, a professedly Demo
cratic paper, says: 44 We know very
wellthat public sentiment in that State
regards these ebullitions of ruffianism
with unspeakable horror." If this is
true then Mr. L. Q. C. Lamar, a Sena
tor from Mississippi, does not represent
the public sentiment of that State He
does not regard these ebullitions of
ruffianism with unspeakable horror.
On the contrary, he apologizes for the
ruffians and regards their atrocious
crimes as justifiable means of ridding
society of bad men, who. demonstrate
their badness by daring to offer them
selves as candidates for office in de
fiance of the mandates of - chiefs of the
Solid-South party. -: Neither do the rep
resentatives of Mississippi in Congress
represent the public sentiment of the
State No expression- of . horror has
escaped from a single one of them 'since
the Yazoo ebullition of ruffianism, so
far as- the country is informed. The
Mississippi 44 Judges", and 44 Generals"
in Washington who have expressed
Dixon do not represent the kind of pub
lic sentiment referred to. -They have
uttered no exclamation of horror, bat,
on the contrary, they have busied them
selves in letting the country know what
a wretch the murdered Dixon was, and
what wretches all his male relations
are or were The Mississippi newspa
pers of the 44 regular" party persuasion
and about all of them are of that per
suasion represent no such 'public sen
timent. They are not in the least hor
rified, i Tbey regard . the Yazoo per
formances with the utmost complacen
cy. They assure us that the 300 armed
men who "waited ' upon"' Captain
Dixon and ' commanded him1 to take
himself out of the way as a -candidate
for Sheriff, threatening him with sum
mary shot-gun ex ecu tion in case - he
should not obey, were the best citizens
of the country gentlemen representing
the wealth, intelligence and honah, sah.
of xaaooy..) . i. y, i,1t r -a .11 1
,The Atlanta ConUiiuiio does not
know, that public sentiment in Missis
sippi,' meaning the sentiment of the
dominant party as well as the senti
ment of men who are not "Conserva
tive Democrats." regards these ebulli
tions: of ruffianism with, unspeakable
horror. It knows, or ought to know,
that the ruffians are' constantly adver
tised' by the party organs as the 44 best"
citizens.-' It knows, or ought to knew,
that the official head-centre of the party
has issued a pronunciamento since the
Yazoo affair, partaking of the character
of a General's congratulatory order aft
era battle notifying the local com
mands that the methods of '75, '76 and
'78 mnst.be pursued in 1879.:. It knows,
or ought to know, that the method of
those years was the method of ruffian-,
ism,' and nothing else' The Constitu
tion does not even heartity believe what
it says about public sentiment in. Mis
sissippi, for it adds that 44 public senti
ment is worthless unless it makes itself
felt in the direction of peace and good
order." But no such public sentiment
makes itself felt, and that is the strong
est proof that it doesn't exist, so far as
the dominant party. is concerned, ii
pervasive public sentiment can not be
successfully defied for four " years.
44 Ebullitions of ruffianism " have been
the order of the day since 1875, and
that fact amounts to a demonstration
that no pervasive public sentiment op
posed to. ruffianism exists. j The Coa
ttitution proceeds to say:
' If the Governor of Mississippi feels' that he
U unable to cope with the political basha-ba-soaks
that infest the Bute, then it is his duty
either to convene the Legislature, or to call
upon the Sovernment for troope to suppress
the outbreak ; for It cannot be denied that the
wisest, most Just, and easiest solution ot ruf
fianism that has outgrown, the powers of a
Bute Is a bayonet.
The Constitution will presently . be
read out of the Bourbon Church for
heresy; If it were ' published in Mis
sissippi ' its material would be pitched
into the river in short order by an
armed company of "best citizens."
and its editor would be notified to leave
the State never to return; within twenty-four
hours, or take the consequences.
No man can be a good member of the
44 regular" party who doesn t recognize
Mississippi as a nation, or who . would
think for one moment of mentioning a
United States bayonet as a 44 solution
of ruffianism that has outgrown the
powers of a State" The advice of the
Georgia paper is thrown away. The
Governor will do nothing, because he
was put in office by ruffianism. .If he
were to convene the Legislature' noth
ing would come of it, because a majori
ty of its members owe their election to
ruffianism. In fact, pretty much every
men who holds an office in the State of
Mississippi is a representative of ruf
fianism, and the party in power has no
hope or intention of maintaining its
supremacy by any other means than
ruffianism, as Head Center Barksdale
has reoentlv made proclamation. The
present State of Mississippi is a State of
ruffianism, and there is no prospect of
its becoming' any thing else except by
counter-ruffianism. . Some of the chief
ruffians begin to . perceive this.' ' Even
the Okolona State says that 44 we can
not afford to resort to intimidation and
irregularities as a . regular thing in or
der .. to maintain our ascendency over
the numerical superiority of the blacks."
It claims to have pleaded against vio
lence and fraud as a regular thing"
with 44 those who could not or would
not see the awful drift and tendency ot
their own counsels." And it gives
warning that violence and fraud " may
become instruments in the hands of our
adversary, and bring . unwhisperable
woes upon our people to-morrow." But
the party, chieftains will hot heed the
warning. , They have issued the decree
that the' methods of 75, '76, and '78
must be pursued indefinitely-'.' If the .
decree is obeyed, the 44 unwhisperable
woes" will be experienced in due time
unless meanwhile a bayonet dispensa
tion shall intervene with its 'restraints
upon ' 44 solid-South", ruffianism. Cfti
cago Timet (Pern,) ., j f:.,-..,..
fhe Qmfedentoldeaev'"-'
,' Never before have doctrines se fatal,
so subversive of authority: of Govern-
fment, ' of National existence been so
boldly asserted as those proclaimed by
the Confederate dictators ; at the late
extra session of Congrese If these
doctrines prevail; if it be true that the
Nation has ao Representatives, and can
have none; that it has no elections and
can hold none; that it has no voters and
can create none; then indeed is its fate
its' doom, a mere question: of time and
at no distant day we may exclaim with
the Trojan exile " what place what
region of earth is not filled with the sad
story of our fall!"' ' '--s !-
Through a succession ' of crimes un
paralleled in the annals of political
atrocity, this demon has already sub-'
verted the great principal of majority
rule by subjecting the two Houses of
Congress to the usurped ' control of
bodies other, than those which should
rule by constitutional right.. . A dozen
Senators and a score of Representatives
hold' seats "therein against- the will of
a majority of their several constitneneee
Enrontery .has not the .hardihood to
deny the crimes and frauds upon the
elections under color of which they
hate obtruded into - their seats. ' Only
Senator Tburman palliates them on the
grounds that the: elective franchise
should be restricted to wealth and in
telligence If these intruders had
usurped their seats by the military
force at Washington, the crime weald
have fired the Nation and ..enkindled
revolution. . What .difference is it
whether the usurpation be at the source
or at the seat" of power, 'whether the
usurpers bear certificates of title se
cured by armed force against the will
ot their constituents, or employ that force
without oolor or title at the doors of the
Capitol? '; i -'"
Shall this usurpation: perpetuate itself?..-The
authorities of the several
States in which . it has its . origin are
under its dominion, the creatures of its
creation. ; Can. any one be so innocent
as to suppose they, will restrain the
hand that created them and clothed them
with power; prevent the ; crime that se
cured: to them position; purify a ballot
box upon whose oorrupUon, or protect
a right upon whose extinction, their of
ficial tenure depends? It is not credi
ble; they could not if they would, they
dare not if they could; the power be
hind them, is greater than they. Will
they enforce a more, righteous rule in
the Congressional elections? " No. The
crime that subjugated these States will
perpetuate ; .their ; subjugation, : and
through it perpetuate the usurpation
on the government of the Nation.
' To this the National election laws
are the Only impediment. ' Shall nulli
fication, strike, them down? Why,
then, not submit , the selection of Con
gressmen in these States to the rifle
clubs, red-shirt bandits and Ku-Klnx
clans, without the mockery of an elec
tion farce? t .(.' :, r
The American people consented to
be governed by constitutional majori
ties, not by the usurpations of violence
and fraud. - If the Nation's laws can
not protect them, if the several States
will not. then revolution must. From
the Speech of Judge. W. ff. West, . at
Urbana, Ohio. ..
Hew They Turned Black. . .
"In the island of Ceylon a Small force
of native gunners is maintained to do
the drudgery work of the royal, artil
lery. The men are called Gun Lascars,
and, except that they are not intrusted
with the sole management of the ord
nance, are disciplined and dressed pre
cisely the same as the royal artillery;
indeed, they are the counterfeit present
ment of that corps, oar tneir Diacat
faces. A battery of artillery fresh from
England was being landed at Colombo,
and a few of the Lascars were on the
wharf, ., The. European .arrivals, una
ware of the existence of their copper
oolored " slaveys,' were anxiously in
quiring who and what the "niggers"
in blue and gold were, niggers in uni
form, so like themselves. "Sergeant,"
says one man, addressing a veteran,
44 who is that bombarder Mm with the
Christy-minstrels - burnt-cork -facer
Him? Why, dont you know him?
Tommy Atkins, of A battery. Sure you
remember him at Woolwich?" "Tom
my! That Tommy? - Why, sergeant,
he's black!" 'Of coarse he's brack."
replies the sergeant.'' 44 it's the hot sun
as does it alL First it browns, then it
reddens, and then if you stay here
long enough it blackens you, just as
you see bread toasting afore the fire
Atkins has been in Colombo more than
twelve years; - and if yon are not in
Bailey's gedowns;'. .(Anglice the
grave-yard) by that same time to
Tommy's complexion you'll come, and
a shade or two blacker perhaps. Write
that to your sweetheart by the next
overland mail.'' Chamber Journal.'
1 'A widow, whose husband, a mechan
ic, had been killed in a railway acci
dent, obtains a judgment of $5,000
damages against the railway company.
The same court gives a verdict for $15,
000 to a man who had - lost his leg in
the same smash up. The widow of the
mechanio thereupon goes to the Judge,
and protests against the injustice of his
decision. "Is alee," she asks, "worth
three times as much as a whole man?"
And the Judge responds: "The decision
is perfectly equitable A man who has
lost a leg cannot replace it with another
as good, even for $15,000. But a wom
an with $5,000 can easily get a new
husband." - . -
A good deal of satisfaction is ex
pressed here over the fate of Dr. Spen
cer, a dentist, recently shot dead for
kissing a woman in Mississippi, while
she was under the influence of ether.
Women want to know it when they are
kissed, and the fool who does not ap
preciate the fact ought to die 9tiU
wtKtf (Minn.) Lumberman -

xml | txt