OCR Interpretation


Rapides gazette. (Alexandria, La.) 1869-187?, October 18, 1873, Image 1

Image and text provided by Louisiana State University; Baton Rouge, LA

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn86090827/1873-10-18/ed-1/seq-1/

What is OCR?


Thumbnail for

"LET US HAVE PEACE."
VOLUME V. ALEXANDRIA, LA., SATURDAY, OCTOBER 18, 1873. * NUMBER 27.
THE WORLD AND I.
Wzra my l'eart be glad or no
The summers bome the summers go,
The Ilow da with dying leaves;
lcicle, iP ng beneath the saves;
The l, era wither to the snow.
r'.,us doth the summer end and go,
Whether my life be glad or no
Wether my life be sad or no,
T're winters aeen, the winters go,
The sunshie plays with baby leaves;
Swallows build about the eaves;
The lovely wind flowers bend a blow;
Thus doth the winter come and go,
Whether my life be sad or so.
Yet mother nature gives to me
A lond andti pt qmpethy;
In my ow heart I and the carm
To make he teader, near and warm;
'rtgrolgh summer sunshine, winter snow,
atlhe cls as, hSad or glad or no.
-Harper's Maonthly.
AUT'VMNAL AIRS.
LUAvEs are falling though coal is not
And pumpkins are yellow, and maids are blue,
Potatoes and apples begin to rot
'lhere',, many a liver congested, too.
The dew stays late on the aebbase leaf,
" And the red re hbeetforsakes the ground,
And lovera' wanderinDl row more brief,
And fewer loalfelr are oaflng around.
The oele'y rivals the turnip fair'
There's new deliaht in the tender steak;
And 'boys go munching the chestnut rare,
W ithout one thought of the stomach-ache.
The last of the cattle shows is seen;
The monster squash to the cows is fed;
Everything's brown that once was green,
Exzept tomatoes, and they are red.
The drowsy citizen hates to rises
The bash may be cold, but so is the air;
'Tis beaven to slumber, for now the flies
Are less affectionate and more rare.
And who is the business man we see?
'Tis the doctor dashing by in his chaise;
And well may he hu. ry, you will agree,
For it Isn't every patient that pays.
'ri• a rare rare season, so breezy and bright,
The daisies, ind even the squashes are gay;
One wouldn't regret the cold at night,
If it wasn't so deuoedly cold by day.
A wondering shiver inspires the doubt
Whether ludian summer will come this year;
But its warmth can be felt when you don't go
out,
And some look for its hbase through a glass of
beer.
THE PIKE'S PENANCE.
Where they came from no one knew.
Amoing the farnners near the Bend there
was anmple ability to conduct researches
wieet by fltr more difliculties than was that
of the origin of the Pikesi; but a charge
of buckshot which a good-natured Yankee
received one evening, soon after putting
qu'stions to a venerable Pike', exerted a
great depressing inlluence uponl the spirit
of investigation. 'T'hev were not blood
thirsty, these P'ikes but they had good
nr'asoin to suspect all inquirers of being at
least deputy sheriff's, if niOt wol`t. :iandl a
Pike's hatnxl of officers of tlhe law is equal
hei in intensity only by his hatred of man
ual libor.
Buit while there was doubt as to the fihth
('rliand of the little colony of Pikes at .Jag
gi'r'. Be.nd. their every neighbor would
willingly niake affidavit as to the catitse of
their locating and their remaining at the
Ps'id. 'Whien humanitarians and optimists
arrued that it was atcause the water was
good and convenient, anrd the Bend itself
caught enough drift-wood, and that the
dirt would yield a little gold wheln iuinilp
ulated by placer and pan, all lhrimers :uId
stock owners would freely admit the valid
ity of these reasons; butt the a:dnmi-ion
was made withl a countettance whose in
dignation and sorrow indicated that the
greater causes were yet unnamed. With
-yes speakinig emotions wlichtl words could
not exlpress they would l( hit to sections
of wheat fields minus thl( r grain-bearing
headls; to hidtes and hoofs of cattle uu
slaulhtered by thtemselves; to mothers of
pIromisin calte's, whose tender bleatings
aniswerefl not the maternad call; to the
plac's which had olnce known lile. horses,
but hadl Ien unltenanted since certain
l'ikes had gone across the mnounltalint for
 lmne. 'They woltil accuse no Imail wrong
fully; but in a country where all fannrmers
had wheat and cattle anid horses. and where
prowling Indians andt Mexicans were not,
how cotuld thel. disappearantces es'c'r?
But to the people owningi no prolkarty
in tile neighborhool--to tourists and ar
I ists--the Pike settlement at the Bend was
a- intteresting anti uglly as a Skye terrier.
Th'le architecture of the village was of
original style, and no dluplicate existed.
(t"f the hlialf-dozen residlencles. one was cotll
poi'cd ex'lllusively of -odl. another of Ixtrk.
yet aiinother iof poles. roofoiiwith a wagon
coiver, alnd plasteretl on the outside with
Intud; the fourth was of slalis, nicely split
from logs which hadl driftedl into the llend;
the ff1th .was of hide, stretheil over a
frame, strictly Gothic fromn foundation to
rildgepole: while the sixth, burrowed into
thie hillside, displayed only the barrel
which formed its chininey.
A mlore aristocratib comnmunity did not
exist onl thle Plaeeitic coast. lit the
Pikes whlei'n you would, yoi could never
Ssee alny one workling. Of echurches,
.chool-houses, stores, aindl other plebeian in
'titiltions, there w'ere 1o1ie', and no Pike
bwnemietl i himself ly ellterinilg a trdle or
siling hi liuiinls by agricrultiuri.
hortliodnl thllere fotnd his way a vi-itor who
Ih tllHt llei icrvyw'litre in the wvorl withll
out olloti itwing liadlie weloellii. hie tailne
Io lihl house ll i tilt of slabs, andi thrtiteliiid
lthii wife of Saul 'Trotwlle, owner of thel
hole; amid ~auin. iAter sunning himself
tuteaailv for a thlay or two, mounted a pony
antd rotle of' for a doctor to tlrive the in
triider away.
Whin hi; returned he found all the men
ill thet calit seated on a log in front of his
Owit door. :tlan then lie knew he must pre
pari, fr the worst--only one of tile great
lttifill'ct.. of tihe world could force every
Pike frontm hii own (loor at exactly the
anlwtituth'. There they sat, vllow-faced.
hnltearded,. long-acked and hent, eaec look
ing like the other, and all like Sam, and,
a.' hie disnoulited, they looked at him.
• Hfow is lhe?." s.ial Stun, tving his
horse :"ld tihe doctor's, while tie latter
went in.
SWell." said the ollest maln. withl de
lilheration. " wlniin's idl thar. if that's
a niall on the log inclined hlis head
elightly but positive'ly to the left, thus
mlltUlfln belief that aum had beein cr
ttly rd sufHllently alnswered. S:lnt
.iln,elf senmed to regard his informlation
in t:hout the stlam mlner.
SuIdiiily the raw hide which fonnrmed the
doir of Sam's house wa pushedi aside,
an a womamt came out and called ,.aw.
anld he disappeuared ftrom his log.
As he enterel his hut all the women
lifted orrowful faces and retired; no one
even lingered, for the Pike has not the
comlmon human interest in other people's
husiness--he lacks that, as well as certain
sindlar virtues of civilization.
Sam dropped by the bedside amn was hu
man; his heart was in the right place, andI
though heavily intrenched cy years of la
ziness and whiskey and tobacco, it could
Isw brought to the front, and it carnl now.
The' dying woman cast her eyes appeal
ingly at the surgeon, and that worthy
stepped outside the door. Thenl thle ye.
low-faced woman said:
" Samn, doctor says I ain't got mnuch time
left."
" Mary," said Sam, "I wi-h ter (;God I
coultl die fur yer. The ehildren- "
" It's them I want to talk about, Sam,"
replied his wife. "An' I wish they could
die with me, rather'n hey 'emr live ez I've
hed to. Not that you ain't benl a kind
husband to me, for you hev. Whenever I
wanted meat yev got it somehow; an'
when yev been ugly drunk yev kept away
from the house. "But I'm diin', Sam. and t
it's cos you've killed me."
"Good God, Mary '" cried the a.ston
ished Sam, jumping tip; "yu're crazy-
here. doctor."
" )oetor can't do no good. Sam ; keepl
still and listeni, of yer love me like ver once
said yer (lid; fur I hevn't got much breath
left,' gasped the woman.
" Mary," said the aggrieved Saui:n "I 1
swow to God I dunno what yer drivin' at."
' It's jest this, Sam." replied the woman.a
" Yer tuk me, tellin' ine ye'd love nle an' c
honor me, an' pertect me. You mean to
say now yer done it? I'm a-dyin', Sam- c
hain't 'got no favors to ask of nobody, an'
I'm telling the truth, not knowin' what a
word 'II be ny last."
"Then tell a feller where the killin' 1
came in, Mary, for heaven's sake," said the I
unhappy San.
" It's come in all along, S:ain," said the
woman. "'l'lhere is women in tlhe Statets.
so I've heerd, that marries fur a honel ai' s
bread an' butter, but you promised more'n
that, Saut. An' I've waited, an' it ain't I
come. An' there's somethin' in nme that's i
all starved anid cut to pieces. An' it's your
fitult, Sam. I tuk yer fur better or fur
wuss, an' I've never grumbled."
"I know ver haint, Mary," whisperedl
the conscience-stricken Pike. " An' I
know what ver mean. Ef God'll only let
yer be fur a few years, I'll see of the thing
can't be helped. Don't cuss ine. Mary
I've never knowed how I've been a-,gain'.
I wish there was sotnethiing I could do t
'fore you go, to pay yer all rowe yer. I'dl
go haick on everything that makes lifte
worth hevin'." t
" Pay it to the children, Sam," said the t
sick woman. raIsing herself ill her mlisera
ble bed. "I'll forgive yer everythling if
you'll do the right thing for themn. Do
do--everything!" said the woman, throw
ing up her arms and falling backward. l
11er husbaxnd's arms caught'ier:'his lips
brought to her wan face a smile. which the o
grim visitor, who ain instant later stole her r
breath, pityingly left in full pIissessioln of
the rightful iilheritance from which it had a
been so long excluded.
Sam knelt for a moment with hli facet
beside his wife-what he said or did tihet
L.ord onldy knew, buit the doctor, who was o
of a speculative mind, afterwards said that t
wiltei Saul appearedl at the door hle showvt'd I
the lirst Pike ther in whiich he had ever
seen any signs of a soul.
Sam went to the sod hlouse, w-here lived s
thei oldest woman in the camp, and brietly V
announcetd tile al(I of' his wif'. 'J'lT'hen.
afteir sonme consultation with the old wo- r
an. Sanll rode to the town oil olne of Itis
hlor.es, leading anothier. i (camle back 'I
with but one horse antl a large bundle; ir
and soon the women were making torMrs. t
'I'rotwine her last earthly robe, and the it
first new one she had worn for years. The i
next day a waooni brought a coffin and a p
nminister, and te whole taimpt silently and fC
respectfully followed Mrs. ''rotwine to al
home with which she could find no fault.
For three days all the male Pikes in the 1
camp sat on the log in front of Sam's door I
and texpressed their sympathy. as did the t
friends of Job-that is, they held their v
peaa,'. But on the fourth their tongues e;
were unloosed. As aconversatioi~alist the h
Pike is not a success, but Sam's actions e
were so unusual and utterly unheard of i
that it seemed as if even the stones must N
have wondered and communed among b
themselves. t
"' I never heard of such a thing!" said t
Brown Buck; "he's gone and bought r
new clothes for each of the young 'uns."
" Yes," said the patriarch of the camp, e
"an' this mornin', when I went down to r
the bank to soak my head, 'cos last night's k
liquor didn't agree with it, I seed Sam t
with all his young 'uns as they wus p
awashin' their faces an' hands with soap. t
They'll ketch they death and be on tihe Itll
withi their mother 'tore long, if lie don't f
look out. Somebody ort to reason ith th
him." a
" 'Twon't do no good," sighed Limping a
Jim. "Hlie's lost his head, an' reas.ton just s
goes into one ear an' out at t'other e:lr.
'he'll le was aerapin' around this front
door t'other tday, an' I asked him what he
wuz a-layin' the ground all hare and des
late ftr, he said he was done keeping pig- r
pen. isow, every'boty but ldm knows he
never had a pig. His head's gone, just
mark my words."
On the morning of thefourth (lay, Sam's e
frienuds hadjust secured a full attendance h
on the log, and were at work upon tltir e
first pipes, when they were startled by see- a
ing Sam harness bis horse in the wagon
and put all his chldren into it.
S"Whar ye bound fhr, Sam ?" asked tlte
patriarch.
Samn blushed as near as a Pike coultl,
but answered with only a little hesitation :
" Goin' to take 'em to school to Maxfield
-goin' to do it every day."
T''he incumbents of the log were too I
nearly paralyzed to remonstrate, but after s
a few moments of silence the patriarch re- s
marked. in tones of feeling. vet decision:
" He's hed a tough time of it, but he's t
no business to ruin the settlement. I'm an
old man myself and I need peace of mind. ,
so I'm going to pack up my traps and
mosev. When the folks at Maxlleld knows ,
what'he's doin', they'll make him a con- a
stasleor a justiee, an' I'm too tuuch of a
man to live nigh any sich."
And next day the patriarch wheeled his
family and property to parts unknown. c
A few davs later Jim Merrick,. a brisk
fariter a few miles from the Bend, stood
in front of his own house, and shaded his
e( es in solemn wonder. It couldn't be
"t'd never heard of awch a thing before- r
yet it wasi-there was no doubt of it
there was a Pike, riding right towarnls I
him.n, in open daylight e aold swear I
Sthat Pike had often visited him-that is,
Shi. wheat-field and corral--ater dark, but
a daylight visit from aPikewasas unusual
as a social call of a Samaritan upon a Jew.
A nd when Sami-for it was he-approached
Merrick and made his business known, the
- farr was more astonished and confused
than he' had ever been in his life Ibtbre.
- Sam wanted to know forhow much money
I Merrick would plow and plant a hun
tdred and sixty acres of wheat for him,
and whether he woull take Sam's horse
a finue a:niral brought from the States, and
for which Saun could show a bill of sale
:a~ security for the .nnount unrtil he could
harvest amid sell  i. crop. Merrick so well
uinlerstooal the Pike nature that he madae
Ia very liberal offer, and afterward said he
would have paid laiidsonmely for the I
chance'.
A few days later and the remaining Pikes
at the Bend experienedl the greatest scare I
I that ever visited their souls. A brisk man i
[ came into the alnd with a tripodl on his
shoulder and a wire chain and some wire 1
pins. and a queer lmachline utnder his ann.
I and before dark the Pikes undlerstood thlat
Sam had delilerately constituted hbinself I
a rene'gtde by entering a qularter section of I
lanud. Next mIorlning two more reside'nes
were elll)t, and tlhe remaining tarners of
thle hamlelt adorned not Sali's log, but
wandered about withll f;ies vacant of all ex
pression, sayve tile agonv of thle pItriot I
who sees his Iorne invaded by corrupting
influenc's too jiowerful for him to resist.
Then Merriek scant up a plow-gang and tl
eight hore"s. andl t tict lnder green of Sam's
quarter-ws'etion was rapidly changed to a I
dull brown color, which is odious unto tile
eye of the Pike. I a after d:ayv the brownaa
sliot grew largaer. and one morning Sam
arose- to tfind all his neighllbors departed,
h:ving wreaked their vengeanca' upon him i
by takinr'away his dogs. And in hi- de
liaght at (lteir disalppearance SamI freely for-t
galve tlhemll all.
Regularly the chilren were earriesl to
:ltd from school. and even'' to SuIIday
school. I'Regularly every evennllhg Sa.l vis- I
itedl thet grave on thie hillside, iandl ame
back to li lby the hour watchinlgthe slalp- i
inlg darling. Little by little frrmiers he
gnut to realize that their property was un-I
disturtaral. Iittle by little Sanl's wheat
grew and waxaed golden, and then there
anamea a daLv when a man from 'Frisca(
camn anl ctlangel i in into heavier gold- i
mlore gold than Sam had ever seen before. I
.Anid thel farmers hb'gan to step in to see a
Sam. and their children came to see his,.
and kind womlen were unusually kind to I
the orphans; and, as day by y day Satm took i
his solitary walk oni the hillsihe, the load
on his hea'rt grew lighter, until he ceased I
to fear the clay when lie. too, should lHe I
tlhere.-California Exchange.
Uses of Carbolic Acid.
Possibly, there are liw drugs which have a
lately lben adopted into general use. that (
are appliealle to so great a variety of uses
or are so efflicient as earbolic acid. A cor- t
raslpondent of the Journal ,f the , Fa; n t
gives these particulars about its etllicacy as
ain insect destroyer and as all antigangre
Iaous aphplic'ation to wounds :
Having heard of its noxious influenllce
on various species of insects that infest t
gardens, a lady of this plalce was indtuced
to try its effects uptani the cabbage wormn.
For this puraose she procuretd ai cake of
,oap tha:t had thlelt strongly s'endteal with I
tlla :u:id, and having uiade a quantity ofta
sliuds thlerefrom, sithe transferred it to a I
watering-plot, and hi the early part otf the
(lay. when the green wormI is Ulost vigo
roils in its novemetlnts, she gave' several I
garden plots of cabbage a sprilnkling.
'These were examined soona after, and a
nuinller of dead wornms wcre picked from a
the leaves. Th'lle olperation was repa':tedl
next day. andtl froml car'eful olervations t
iiade, it is believedtl that the leaves of the I
plants, whereaver the solutionl has been
fiairly tried, have been cleared of these
pests. t
As a cleanser and lpuritier. this valuable t
drug has be'en remaarkably distinguished. 1
It hlastbeen used with marked success by
the keepers of livery stables, and tllose I
who have cattle subject to infectious dis- I
eases. Many reports of such cases have a
been given, showing the disinfecting pow- I
er of this drug. It is, however, as a dressiulg I
in someln, loathsome skin diseases, tund as a 1
wa-h for runnillng sores, carhuncles anda
boils, that the efieacy of this article is par- I
tictlarly distinguished ; and where it hls A
been oltne tried. in any of this kind of corm- I
plaints. its use will not be willingly re- I
inquished. On its first application, a a
marked change has been observed in the a
removal of unpleasant olors of every I
kind, and a few repetitions will be found I
to lprodlIce an entire change in the atmos- I
phere surrounding the pulltril matter or a
diseased surface.
Having experienced very deeilde benefit
from the cleansing anrl disinfecting power I
of this drug. I have felt free to offer the I
above snggeiRtions. It is not expeansie, ,
and mnav be ohtainedl at any of til dRag I
store's of the' city or country.
Right Use of Certain Words.
Be/anre, in the sense of rest, remainder,
resitldue, ramnant, is all abomination.
Bala,ce is, metaphorically, the diffarenc' 1
hatwaen the two sides oIf a:n amount, the 1
amollnt which is necessary to make one
equal to the other. Yet we conttinually
hea:r of tlahe alnnee ofthis or that thing, .
even tile balance of a congregation or of I
an army !
Bun'tiifl is applicabhle only to persons. t
A giver nlayve bountife but his gift call- 1
not. It "houll h~ caled plentiful or large. I
"'A hauntiful slice" is abslurd. I
Gd i means to obtain, not to possess. "lie I
has: qot all theI' numtwrs of the paper." I
•"'lave you .qt good molassesF" "They I
have got had manners." Why will people I
persist in intmroducing the word In such
sentences as there. where it Is so evidently a
superfluous ?
Couple applies to two thing; which are
bound tog ther or united in some way.
"A couple .)f apples" is incorrect; two ap
ples is what is mneant.
Drt means filth, and is not synonymous
with earth or soil. Yet people sometimes
speak of a dirt road, or of paeking dirt I
around the roots of trees they are setting.
They mean earth. .
Expect looks always to the ftture. You
cannot expect that anything has happened 1
or is Uhappening, but only that it will hay a
pen.
"DAR are." said a sable orator. "two
roads through disa worl D. one am de!
broad and narrow road dat leads to perdi
tion. 'an de udder am de narrow an'de I
broad roadl dat leads to sure desti'htction."
"I1 dat am de ease," saidl a sable hearer.
"d.i cullud individual takes to the woods "
Some Billings Biographles.
ADAM BILLING? war the thst ov the Bil
lingses. iHe waz verry phatt. Little did
he dream ov the glorious krop that waz a
going tewspring upfrom hiz sowing. lie
waz born as near as I kan uigger, about
theyear 1 00, more or less. lz temmleriz
represented ax being ax even ax the flgger
2. lLiz habits were az pure az the mou itain
dew; he never drinkt any spiritous runm,
nor root elevators. lie went barefutt un
till hiz 32d year, and ever afterwards luved
the naked futt. He was a good danser,
and realized thoze blessed old shake downs,
now gone and fled. lie was named after
the original Adam, and iz sed, hi them who
remember them both, tew resemble him
mouch in the kast ov hiz face. He waz too
fond ov the marvelous, he wouldn't tell a
lie exackly, but he could cumi az near tew
it, ax a swallo kan to a hfrog's noze, when
they skini a mud puddle. Adam Billings
iz now ded, I beleave, but if he alut, and
this should meet hiz eye, he kant, i think,
but admire the square manner in which his
luvely relik hazhandled his ease. Adam
Billings didn't leave much reputashun be
hind him. but what he did leave, is fair tow
middling. We ne'er shall see him more.
Probably not. Too true. Rather melan
kolly than otherwise.
ZEi'HESIAH IILLINGS wa a phliddler bi
birth and plrswashun. He also had an
other gift, and that waz tew owe every
hoddy. Late in life he quit phiddling, and
took up shumaking; but the world lost a
good phidler bi the operashun, and got a
knssid poor shumaker. Oh! 'tis ever thus.
At hiz final deth lie owed upwards ov 70
dollars, and hiz leavings konsisted ov one
old phiddle, and a pint ov basswood shu
pegs. le would travel on foot 7 miles tew
a kuntry tavern, and phiddle all nite at a
kunitry bawl for 75 cents, and owe the
landlord two dollars and a half nex mornin
for vittles and drink. Zeph' was an unprof
itable man to know, for he couldn't tend an
evening meeting, on Sunday, without run
ning into (let to sumboddy. It waz sedov
him, that he waz never known tow shed a
tear or pa a det. He died finally, and i
presume he was saved; but he may hay
bin lost. for accidents will happen in the
uPl ermtost faumilys. lie had a cool hed,
and a warm harte. Bless Zepheniah Bil
lings, he was a ripe skollar on the phid
dle, and could Ida " Thre her down, Sal,"
and sich dear old sweet-eavoured things,
klean up tew perfekshun. lie haz gone
now, allass ! allass! but i am prepared tew
say, in the language ov another, " Bully
for yu, Zephals !" All flesh iz grass. So
i've bin told. Funny. Mutch.
JEHOSSIPHAT BILLINGS wTiZ a very kluss
man he never wuz known tew waste en
nything, by giving it away. The grate ex
travaganse ov hiz life, and the one he nev
er forgot tew speak ov, was gving 3
dollars towards building the Pordnttk
meetin hous. After he giv the munny. he
took such a deep interest in the work on
the meetin hous, that the kommitty wuz
obliged tew giv him bak the munny tew
git shut ov him. He sworehe'd sue them
for the interest on the munny, but lihe
never did. Jehoss' Billings wuz one ov
them kind ov nmen who mistake avarice for
ekonemy. lie died at the age ov 63, if I
hav sairched right, troul ani overdose ov
klain clhowder drank at a free lunch. .Je
hossiphatt Billings had his phailiugs, but
reckless extrnivaganse want among the lot,
he also had his virtues, but blind and irre
pressible generosity want among this lot
neither. lie wuz buried, without eny
fuss, in the year 1256. What has ekulium
ov him I kan't state. Sleep on, Jehossi
phat, in thi slumbers. I would like tew
say sum more about Jehoss', but i kant
without telling the truth. Truth iz sum
times like a hot pertato, the only way tew
handle it cazy, is tew drop it. I wall dri
up here. The end. Hush! Lay low.
MELKISIDEK BILLLNGS wax a dandy ov
the old skool, and also a lover. He loved
the whsle entire femail populashun. He
parted his hare in the middle, and did it
unkommon even. He had one grate weak
ness which grew on him, and that waz the
length of hiz little flnger-nale. Historians
say that this finger-nile gru tew be a yard
in length, but it strikes me that this must
be a profound lie. He waz a very punktil
lious man, in hiz every-day wear, and
drest chuck up tew the fashun. Melkisidek
hadn't mutch branes, lint he dlidn't need
much, for hiz bizzness thru life wuz the
lover bizzness. Just before he diedhe mar
rid, and left one dauter, a sentimental off
spring, who atterwards run away, at the
age ov 16, with a dansing master. Mel'
Billings waaov the nuterjender, hehadu't
karakter enuff to do enny hurt, and ov
kourse kouldn't do enny good. He died
about the right time, anno dominoze, 1095,
and waz buried comfortably in the grave
yard, at lowerPondunk town. Melkisidek
Billings wax mi ansesstor, and that was
kind in him. He had an epitaff on hiz
stone which i dont rekolekt ov ever seeing
in print before, and for the benefit of tlhose
who studdy theze memorandums I will
translate it. " An honet man is t me noble.
work or God." Good. aint it? Rather!
SoLoxwI BILLINO wax hoIrn the 26th ov
May 1322, old stile. He wax knone fur
andnear for hiz chunks ov wisdum, but,
like Soloman ov old, he could talk wisdumn
better than he could do it. This iz the
way with all the wize men i hay met lately.
Soloman Billings waza leetle slippery, but
he managed tew rit thru life without slip
ping down much, and died reazonably
well. He waz sed, bi all who knu him,
tew be chuk full ov wisdum; he could tell,
hb looking at the egg, how mutch a goslln
wouli weigh before tt waz born, and when
the best time waz tew sefa len or a gatb
post. Sol's month iraz full ov wisdum
litining couldn't strike a tree, just for fun.
but what he would preach a moral sermon
from the tex. He waz iredful sertain ov
what he did kno, and want the least hit
unrsertaln ov what he ditln'l kno. I find
in digging down tew the hard pan ov Solo
man, mi anseestor, that he hada grate deal
ov vanity, a large amount or impudense, a
good supply or tlnkredullty, just the
things, for all the world, tew make a wize
phool out of. He died ax aforemed. and I
look bak upon him az one who haz delart
ed this life. Adew, Soloman, mi anseator.
Deth iz tuff. Snmwhat! I will add,
quite.
DLt,'asmOrOiY Bu.I.yGs wax a square
man. He waz az square az the bloks on a
checker-board. He waz Just the same kind
ov a man in the hll, az he wax in the
spring or the year; yn didn'thav tew win
ter himtew findout who he waz. He al
wus did ax he agreed, but wazdredful bak
ward about agreempg. Duteronomy waz
Immense in onethiung, and that waz the
length of hiz nose. He had more nose as
kordin, than enny man in history. One
writer or the eleventh sentury, asez hiz
noze waz 8 inches in length, and another
makes it a fmrckshun over 10 inches; I will
split the difference, and call it 7. If Dute'
waz alive now, I think he would sustain ml
figgures. In writing these details ov ml
anscsstors, I am guided bi a luv tew do a
square thing, and if I er, it will be all ow
ing tew mil uk. I never waz right lucky
since I had the meazles. They took place
in the 14th year ov nml age, when I lived
with ml unkle. I had them too thik. Du
teronomy Billings waz named after old
Duteronomy ov bible times, anti as ansess
tors run, he waz a very good kind ov a
one tew hay. lie died az he had lived, ex
ackly square. In konkluslon I will say He
still dear Dute', yu lv got a square thil
Thare iz force in the idee. *1 may add,
grate force. Very. Indeed.-Josh Bil
lings' Almanac.
How to be Happy.
Every mas should bring to the affairs of
life so "much of himself, should associate
with outward things so much of his inner
being that the outward should be transfig
ured and transformed. Great is the power
of association.
How the wilderness blossoms like a rose
to those who look at it through their affec
tions! How cold and cheerless is the
palace where there is no love, no hope. no
transport, no joyful experence! It is
stately. brilliant, beautifull, but desolate.
The old brown house where you were
brought up, and the old barn where, from
day to day, you did duty with stubbed
fingers and bare feet, and the old field over
whose hills you have climbed-homely as
these scenes are, is there anything so beau
tiful to you as they are in their homell
ness, when you go back to them? It is
what you have put on to these old things
that makes them so dear to you. It is that
memory of your own life which has grown
in connection with them. It is that part of
yourself which you see in them. "
So, the duties of life become more agree
able by reason of their association with
ourselves and that which is lear to us. It
is not always the most comely oflices that
are the most tolerable. The service of a
mother to a child involves something more
than the mere act. It is invested with a
feeling which makes it to the mother one
of the most delightful of occupations.
What mother does not know that it is a
privilege to tend her own babe? What
sick mother does not look sadly and envi
ously upon the nurse that performs the
functions that must be performed for the
child? And yet they are often functions
which, if they were performed for any
other than the mother's own child, Iroudil
be odious to her.
And that which we see in the mother
extends more or less through every part
of life. That to which you bring diligence,
and conscience, aUd taste, and cheerful
ness, and gladness, and sympathy, be
comes transformed. Whether a man be
in the stable, or In the colliery, or in the
stithy, or on the ship; wherever a man is,
ifhe has a manly heart, and can bring to
his affairs real manliness-their duty be
comes to him blossoming, and that is sweet
which otherwise would be bitter.
Let not men,therefore,mumble their busi
ness. as unhungry boys do their unwel
come'bread. Let not men say, "Oh, you
have a good time preaching; but if you
were a blacksmith you would find it dif
ferent." I sometimes wish I were one. I
have hammered as much cold Iron In the
pulpit as ever a blacksmith did hot Iron
on the anvil. Let not men say, "Ah! if
you were poor and had to drudge, you
would not see things as you do now.' I
have been poor, and I have had todnrudge.
I have been through the various stages be
tween adversity and prosperity, and I have
found that some functions require less and
some more moral elements than others;
but I have also found that a kingly, noble
spirited man can redeem many duties
which are in themselves unattractive and
repulsive.and make them honorable and
beautiful and agreeable.
There is no place where God puts you,
where it is not your duty to turn round,
and say. "How shall I perfume this place
and make it fragrant as the honeysuckle
and the violet, and beautiful as the rose?"
In this world you are to perfbrm the great
duties of spiritual, moral and physical life,
in the place where you are.-H. IV.
Beecer.
Winter Care of Horses.
Considerable is written nowadays about
rahle economy In various ways. My oh
servation leads to the conclusion that one
important Item is almost entirely over
looked, and that thousands of dollars are
lost each year by the careless wintering of
farm horses. For instance, farmer A owns
a fine span of horses; he is not much of a
horseman, but In the summer he works
them. and keeps a man who takes good
care of them. In the fall, after work is
over, the horses are put into the stableand
fed all the hay they will eat (be the ame
good or badl); are left perhaps a week or
two weeks at a time, with littleor no exer
clse, andt, when they are driven, are let go
at the top of their speed. Fast driving,
with stomachs full of undigested hay, is
the very worst of treatment. The result
is that, in a year or two, the horses have
the heaves badly, are spolled for market.
and are unable to do the usual amount of
service on the farm or road; and this alone
causes a loss each yeiar o long as the team
is used.
This could in some ldegree be avoided,
by building a shed with a yard for eXer
else, and by feeding food of ~siflllent
strength to keep the muscles in full
strength. Some say that wintering horses
in the field on hay alone, will cause a fall
ing away of muscles and strength difficult
to regain. No doubt, being chilled by
standing in a cold barn i very injurious to
horses.--(Cr. Country Gentleman.
A roxia Attorney-.iGeneral of Massa
chusetts, James Sullivan, was. t once an
able lawyer and a hearty, digniied gentle
man of the old school. To a friend who
was complainlang at the age of sixty that
he felt one's days must be few, and the
capacity for usefulness well-nigh exhaust
etMr.'Sullivan felicitously replied : " You
mistake there. At sixty a man in ir
health may enter upon a series of years
equal in usefulness and happiness to those
of any period, provided proper precautions
are taken and proper habits formed. Em
.ployment without labor, exerele without
weariness, and temperance without ab
stinence are the rules of life for a man of
tbree-.sore years." The advice prolbably
contains as sound sense as could easily be
compacted in the same number of words.
PUNGENT PABAGRAPHBS.
Way is a young lady like a bill of ex
change ? Because she ought to be settled
when she arrives at maturity.
Ho suco-Ls, ho mugjln, from a forrin'
sho-ore," is the way a i'opeka belle ren
ders the words of a popular song.
WARNER, in his "Backlog Studies,"
says there are still attempts made to bring
up a family round a " register," but you
might just as well try to bring it up by
haud as without the rallying-point of a
hearth-stone.
Two young ladies and Thaddeus O'Gradv
were conversing on age, when one of
them put the home question, "Which of
us do you think the elder, Mr. O'Grady ?"
"Shure," replied the gallant Irishman,
" you both look younger than each other."
AT a hotel a short time sinee, a girl in
quired of a gentleman at the table if his
cup was out. "No," said he, "but my
olfee is." The poor girl went away con
siderably confused, but determined to pay
him back hIn his own coin. While at din
ner the stage drove up, and, several coming
in, the gentleman asked: "Does the stage
dine here?" "No, sir." replied the girl ITn
a sarcastic tone, "but the passengers do."
A MILWAUKEE paper having publithed
' Rules to govern persons who are drown
ing," a cotemporary suggesti that the
idea should be followed up by 'Directions
for ladies and gentlemet blown up in a
steamboat :" "Guide for the victims of a
railway collision ;" "The course to be pur
sued by maronauts when they fall from a
balloon to the earth;" " Regulations to be
adopted by persons struck-by lightning,"
etc.
Truz strongest expression is generally
the briefest and best. Take the old ballads
of any people. and few adjectives will be
found The singer says, "He laughed;
she wept !" Perhaps the poet of a more
advanced age might say, l He laughed in
scorn, sihe turned away and shed tears of
disappointment." But nowadays the
ambtlous young writer must produce
something like this: "A hard, fiendish
laugh, scornful and pitiless. forced its pas
sage front his throat, through the lips that
curled in mockery at her appeal; she cov
ered her despairidg faee,.and a gust and
whirlwind of sorrowing agony burst forth
in her Irresistible tears."
Somethting New i Life Iasraaee.
There is growing evidence of an inclina
tion to effiect radical changes in the con
dmuct of life insurance, and to abandon to
some extent the tables which have hereto
fore been adopted in regplatiag a comp
ny's course In the adoplou of risk and In
estimating the reserve necessary to meet
liabilities. Heretofore all Insured have
been classed together. Of course of two
men upon whom risks are taken, one will
be a better risk than the other, yet no dif
ference is made In the rate of premium do
ianded, and the man who can pass the
medical examination pays as much for his
policy as the one whose bodily condition
is such as to barely enable hun to reach
the grade adopted by the company. It is
now proposed in some quarters to adjuast
rates in life as in fire insurance, so thatthe
premium paid shall be in some degree
commensurate to the risk incurred by the
company, and the obvious advantage of
such a course will be that It will enable
insurance by all, while It will not render
insurance less safe. The Daeutse Verri
cherung. Zeitusg, Berlin, says: "There is
no reason why life insurance companies
should not use judgment and discretion
in reference to the circumstances of each
particular case, and adjust the premiums
charged in accordance with such circum
stances. This is what Is doney fire and
marine companies. They modly their
terms, making them larger or mnal, ao
cording t the nature ofthe risk. In lfb
insurance, also, the liability incurred by a
company in assuming various life risks
which are widely diebrent in their mature
(as the risks usually incurred as sound,
really are). cannot, in the naturee of things,
be correctly estimated by any fixed and
inflexible rule. "
One obvious result of the adoption of
the new system of Inurance proposed
will be the necessity which will at once
rise for better informed medical examin
ws who abl do their work careflly and
sstideally. Here will be a reform at
once, since the medical examination is
now with some companies little more than
a fhree and productive, from its careless
ness, of the worst results. The other ad
vantages of the new system are apparent,
while the only argument against It seems
to be its complexity and the necessity
which Its adoption would eause fora gen
era change in the policy ofompmne.-8t.
Louis Joursal.
A Moamox HusuLa's Mrssmmsm.
Brother George Q. Cannon sys the sisters
have borne agreat deal. So they have;
but if they could only stand in the soe
of theJr husbands, who are good, true,and
-aithul, they would know that they areby
no means free from perplexities. Just
fancy a man with two, three, or half a
dozen of his beloved wIves catechig him
on one eide, and before he can take three
steps more catching him on the other and
"I want this," " I want that," and "This
is not right," and "That is not right,"
and so on, their minds just pulled to pe.
Isayf the hair is spared on their heads
they may consider that they have got
blesed good wives. I have as many wives
as any other man, and I keep my hair yet.
But as to trials, why, bless your behrts,
the man or woman who enjoys the sphiit
of our religion has no trials; bImt the man
or woman who trks to live aserdling to the
Gospel of the Son of God, and at the aume
time dclings to the spirit of the world, has
trials and sorrows acute and keen. :tnd that,
too. continually.-From a Rernt Sermon
of Briglam Yousg.
Wt readl that 5,000 boxes of tea werere
eently fished fhont bneath the sad sea
waves, where they had lain and soaked for
ive months. After nndergonlg this Jro
cess of curing, this tea was brouglhtto New
York and sold for nine cents abox. Here
it has been washed anl ironed and auled
and teasedinto a sort of shape and 100
harrelsof it sold. Itissid that it ls but
lightly salt. but otherwlee of no objec
i ble flavor after its bath In the oean.
Now it is pretty certain that this tea will
go into consumption, be sold and bought
and brewed and drank, and many a pa of
lips will be suspiciously prsed ad
smnacked over the "' slighty alt lavor;"
but whose lips will those be is a eonan
darum which probably no one can ever 04
out.

xml | txt