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THE BttJBBAH CAMPAIGN.
I'm a-coniing, yes, a-coming,
With a mighty host along;
And the blooming and the drumming
Will be resonant and strong I
There'll be whooping, lively whooping,
In the land, afar and near;
Anil the tramping and the trooping
Of my warriors all will hear!
What with blazing rockets, blazin?
In the ether everywhere;
Sights and sounds and deeds amazing,
There'll be music in the air!
I'm a fighter, fearless fighter,
And aggression is my forte—<
Don't forget that I'm a smiter
Of the most tremendous sort!
I am moving, now, am moving,
On the way to Washington,
And, I'm certain, smiles approving
Every Irish mother's son.
For Til rattle, loudly rattle,
Up the dry bones of John.Bnll —
Scent of coming wage of battle
Gives to me a mighty pull.
Hear the slogan, hear the slogan,
Of the clans in prond array—
Know that doughty Black Jack Logan
Blows a blast that strikes dismay 1
What's tattooing, mere tattooing,
To a man of nerve and brain?
To a man that's up and doing,
To a man whose name is Blainef .
Ivext to nothing, less than nothing,
To a man of calloused hide;
Let the soreheads froth, keep frothing,
Of success I rule the tide!
I'm the coming, yes, the coming,
Man, and lord of victory,
And my booming and my drumming
Will be heard across the sea. .
J-a-s G. 81-ke.
MR. BULSTEAD'S SURPRISE.
Mr. Bulstead's tbird and last letter bore
tlit- Oxford postmark; as he opened it he
frowned. His niece, who had long ago noted
that partielar letter with apprehension, help
ed him in haste to the hottest and choicest
kidney on the dish. Maggie knew well that
of late the contents of letters from Oxford
were far from welcome.
"Now, I will not stand this any longer!"
cried the irritable old gentleman, dashing
bis ii-t upon the table and narrowly missing
the just arrived and juicy kidney. "Now,
Master Tom has tried my patience once too
often! 15111 after bill have I settled during
- three months, excepting each to be
the last; and, forsooth, listen to this, miss!
To 000 lawn-tennis balls, £12 10s.; to rack
ets, as per former account, £8 10b. ;to
marking machines, £4; to —good gracious—
to half a ton of whiting, £4; total £29!
Good gracious? I say, does the young
oeapegrace live upon whiting?"
"Oh, it must be a mistake, uncle!"
•'.Mistake, indeed! "Why, did not I have a
bill of £2 10s. for dog-collars? Was that
a misiake too? And the wine bill, andSym
ond's bill for horse-hire! All mistakes, of
course! You may thank your stars, young
lady,"'cried the old gentleman, abounding
the indignantly satirical for the savagely per
sonal tone, "that I would not let you tie
yourself to this extravagant nephew of mine.
Now I've done with him, and so have you."
Maggie rose from the table with a flushed
face, and looked from the window with eyes
that saw little of the square outside through
their tears. But like a wise girl she kept si
lence, and the kind hearted old gentleman
after storming once or twice up and down
the room began to cast uneasy glances at the
graceful figure by the window. If there was
one person whom Mr. Bulstead loved before
aud above the cause of his present anger it
was his niece Maggie Lloyd.
"Well, well," said he sitting down to his
nowjcold kidney. "There, my dear, give me
another cup of tea. Half a ton of whiting—
the boy must have gone madl"
"It might have gone in worse things than
whiting," she suggested humbly, but with a
humorous quiver at the corner of a pretty
"So it might; that's true." The old gen
tleman was a little more straightlaced than
most Londoners. "I'll tell you what, Mag
gie, I'll give Tom one more chance. I'll go
down to Oxford by the 11 o'clock train, giv
ing him no notice, and see for myself what
sort of life he is living. If he is doing noth
ing worse than waste money I'll forgive him;
but if I find the young fellow is as vicious as
some of those Oxford sparks, why then" —
and Mr. Bul=tead's voice assumed a quite
unaccustomed tone of cool determination—
"I've done with nephew Tom."
Maggie triiied with the teaspoon, her eyes
1).-Tit upon her plate. Her uncle's irritabili
ty was little to be feared: it was than neutral
ized by his kindness of heart. But she knew
him to be on rare occasions, and in some
matters, a man of great obstinacy; and lov
ing her cousin with all her heart, she dreaded
the result of her uncle's trip. Tom would
ml doing nothing dreadful, but he might be
doing something Mr. Bulstead might object
to. To move her uncle from his resolve,
(nee exposedin this way, she knew to be be
yond even her influence: the more as the old
gentleman, who tad a few months before
forbidden any express engagement between
the ; cousins, was a little inclined to resent
any influence she might try to exert in Tom's
"I shall not want any more tea,thank you,
so you may go to your music lesson if you
like. I shall go to the Athenaeum for an
hour, arid then to Paddington. I'll leave
orders about the carriage, and if you like you
can meet the 5 o'clock train with it."
When Mr. Bulstead reached his club he
found to his disgust, that his favorite chair
was occupied by a bishop. Had it been any
one else, he would not have scrupled at at
tempting to oust him by one of those forms
of strategy 60 well known in club-rooms; but
as it was he ran his eye over the Times "all
standing," and took his seat in a cab not in
the best of tempers.. "Half a ton of whit
ing?" he muttered to^himself,in tones oi fretr
ful speculation, as ho passed, through! Bark
He felt a little like a spy-as he .hurried
across Canterbury Quad, and made withall
speed for the bottom hi Tom's Btaircase. Tne
scout, old "Dot and go one," as he was
called from his woden leg, in vain essayed
to detain him. Up went Mr. Bulstead. two
Bteps at a time to the second floor, where,
above the left-dan d door, appeared, in white
letters upon a black ground, his own name.
He knocked sharply, and hardly waiting for
some one within to utter what might or might
not be "Come in," threw it open and
entered. Lounging upon one of the window
seats in flannels and a cigarette in his
mouth, was a young fellow whose good look
ing face was rather manly and straightfor
ward than handsome. He was alone and got
up without much appearance of flurry.
"How do you do, uncle! I thought it was
you crossing the quad. Take a seat. Why did
you not let me know that you were coming?"
Mr. Bulstead took the proffered seat and
panted as he looked round. The stairs were
6teep and his wind was not so good as it had
"I thought I would come upon you a bit
by surprise, Tom" he said, without any cir
cumlocution. "The fact is, it is that whit
ing has brought me."
"Whiting, uncle!" ejaculated Tom, with
his first show of surprise.
"Half a ton of whiting!" murmured his
uncle irresistably impelled to dwell upon the
mystery. "Half a ton of whiting! Ay, here
it is." And he flourished the bill under the
Tom took it gingerly, and opened it with
a serious face. It seemed to Mr. Bulstead
that he was not quite so much at his ease as
he would have his uncle believe, and the old
gentleman glanced suspiciously round the
room. It certainly was not the room of a
hard-working, hard-reading student; bat
etill there was nothing objectionable in it.
He turned his glance again "upon Tom; the
latter was contemplating the bill with a broad
6mile genuine enough.
"Well," said Mr. Bulatead, "what have
you to say about it? Half a ton of whittine
you know, Tom?"
The young man laughed loudly.
"I am not in fault this time sir; it Is the
Lawn-Tennis club's account sent into me as
secretary. I gave ttie ground-man the check
to pay it last weekend wijy tfcej-should Joave
haa the impudence to send it into you I can't
"Umph! but how about the whiting.
Tom! What is that for?"
"Marking out the grounds, sir."
"Of course it is, Tom! Very stupid of me-
Well, I'm very glad of it, my boy," said Mr.
Bulstead pleasantly. The mystery of the
whiting was cleared up; but somehow it had
made him suspicious,
"Now," said Tom, "will you come with
me to a shop I want to call at in the High—
not a hundred yards off, sir? and by the
timp we come back lunch will be ready."
Wai the dust of that whiting still in Mr.
Bulstead's eyes? At any rate, it seemed to
him that his nephew was peculiarly and rest
lessly anxious to get him out of the rooms.
However, he rose.
"Yes, Tom, certainly. Where did I put
my umbrella? Ah, here it is, thank you.
If it had been another half-ton of whiting
piled upon the sofa, the old gentleman's
face could not have grown darker. The
thing lying half hidden by the sofa-cushion
was a lady's parasol—a dainty, tiny, wicked
looking sunshade of gray silk; and by it was
a glove of too, too apparent French kid.
Mr. Bulslead's worst fears were confirmed
With a vengeance; all along he had felt that
there was something wrong; this was the
haunt of wicked dissipation he had half
feared he Rhould find it. Half a ton of
whiting, indeed! In a moment, and before
he had glanced at the worst of him.
"Well, sir," he said—and there was real
sorrow as well as anger in the tone—"can
you explain this with equal ease?"
"No, I cannot, sir; but"
"Youcan't? Cannot say whose they are,or
how they come to be in your rooms? Fie,
sir, fie! Or where their owner is now, I sup
pose?" he added, suddenly recalling the
scout's seeming attempts to delay him at the
foot of the stairs, and marking the doors that
led to two inner rooms.
"I cannot accountfor them."
"And will not, I suppose?"
"You can put it that way if you like, sir.
All I can say is that lam innocent of what
you are thinking of me I give you my word
of honor, I am; I can't say any more."
The old man was a little impressed by the
younger's earnestness. The obnoxious ar
ticles might have been left there innocently,
"Then let me have a look into your other
rooms, young man, if you wish me to beliSve
"No, I can't do that!" cried Tom spring
ing, as the other advanced, towards the
nearer door and setting his back against it.
He was cooler now and not a bit confused.
The old gentleman, even in his anger, no
ticed that he looked more handsome than ev
"Don't be a fool, Tom!" he cried impera
tively. Then suddenly changing his tone to
an appealing one: "Make a clean breast of
it and I'll try to forgive you."
"There's nothing to forgive."
"Then open that door. You won't?"
"As I live, if you don't before I count
three, I'll cut you off without a shilling.
Now. sir: one, two—it's your la.t chance —
three! There, sir, I've done with you now,
sir—l've done with you—l've d»ne with
you!" And clapping on his hat, with furi
ous haste and yet shaking steps the old gen.
tleman^ran down the stairs, aud his heart
full of sorrow and anger made for the sta
Ah, Tom, Tom ! A minute later he opened
the inner door and looked rather anxiously
at the half-frightened,wholly pretty face that
appeared at it.
"Did you hear anything?" he asked.
"No, but do let me get away. lam so
nervous. He was very angry wasn't he?
Yes, What was it about, Tom? Bills?"
"Yes-" was the somewhat halting reply:
bills and other things. I daresay he'll cool
down. If you hear anything against me,you
won't believe it, will you?"
" O Tom, how can you ask?"
"Then there is no harm done," 'answered
Tom, bravely and gallantly. And after rec
onnoitring from the window, the two left the
To return to Mr. Bulstead, senior. It was
a great trouble to him. Looking back upon
that half-ton of whiting, he wondered how
that could have made him angry with the
lad. If he would only have kept to that he
could have forgiven him a ship-load of whit
ing. But this was a different matter, and
the more the old gentleman thought of it,the
worse it appeared to him. Still he was a just
and fair man; he had no real intention of
cutting off the young profligate, as he termed
him in his thoughts, with a shiiling. He
would make him some sufficient but small
allowance, but near his house or near Mag
gie he would not have him.
He made this last determination known to
Maggie, merely adding that her cousin had
behaved so ill that he had forbidden him the
house. The announcement was received
with a woman's strongest remonstrances—
silent tears. Altogether things were rather
gloomy that June in Fitzory Square.
One morning Mr. Bulstead made up his
mind to see his lawyer about Tom. "I'll
get it over," he said to himself, with a
sigh, as he sought for his umbrella in the
sand. It took him some time to find it.
"Bless the umbrella?" he cried at length,
fumbling amona: the heap. "Is that it?
No! Nor this. "Why, what's this? Well, I
Only the word which he used was a strong
er one, and one which seldom, even in mo
ments of irritability, escaped him. But now,
at Tie sight oi a sunshade in the umbrella
stand, he solemnly repeated it twice: "Well,
I am dashed!"
Then he stood in the hall for some min
utes whistling softly to himself. This done,
he went rather slowly and thoughtfully up to
the drawing-room, and stood on the hearth
"Were you at Oxford when I was there on
the 28th of last month?"
"Yes, answered Maggie, horribly frighten
ed, and yet relieved at getting the matter off
her mind. She had not confessed simply
because she was afraid of increasing her un
cle's anger against Tom. "Yes, I was, un
cle. You said you were going to put Tom to
the test, and I was afraid he might be doing
something to displease you. I went to warn
"And you were in his room while I was
"Yes. It was foolish of me; you followed
■me so closely and I was afraid to face you.
Tom put me into the Scout's hole, as he
"So you deceived me between you?" said
"No, sir; I, did. Tom knew nothing of
my. coming. He was afraid for me, not for
Did he tell you what I wasangry about?"
"After you were gone?"
"Of course!" snapped Mr. Bulstead, pok
ing the fire vigorously.
"I think," said Maggie timidly, for now
it was Tom's favor was at stake, "he said it
was about bills. He had nothing to do with
my journey to Oxford."
•'And a nice ladylike thing you consider
it, I suppose, gadding about to young men's
rooms. Very well. Since you seem inclined
to mix yourself up with his affairs, you will
write to him at once and tell him to come up
to town to-morrow and call here. When you
are both together I'll tell you what I think of
it. A pretty pair of fools!"
And Mr. Bulstead fumed his way out of the
room with much outward heat and an angry
expression of countenance. But the butler
who watched his exit with, awe, and opined
stormy weather upstairs, was amazed to hear
him mutter with an audible chuckle as he
reached the darkest angle of the staircase,
' 'Good lad! Good lad!"
Tom, of course, came up as fast as the
Great Western would bring him; and when
they were both together Mr. Bulstead told the
culprits what he thought of it. <No happier
trio sat down to dinner that day in London
that the party presided over by our friend's
butler. Somewhere in the old gentleman's
nature was a large lump of the chivalrous,
and for the sake of Tom's gallantry, Maggie's,
deception was forgiven. In no long time
he did visit his lawyer, but it was upon busi
ness more pleasant both to himself and to
that professional gentleman. "For a really
paying piece of work," the latter has often
been heard to say in confidence, "give me a
A Tax Payer.
1 Chicago Herald.]
Please, sir," said a man at the station who
said he was a farmer, but who looked more
like a tramp; "please mister, won't you lend
me a dime? I live out in the country apiece,
and will give it to you when I come in again
Ye see I .have come) to town to pay my taxes
and-:-I find my self just ten. cents -short. My
THE ST. KtTL^OTDAY Gffiß& StNDIAY MO&BrttfG, JUtfE 29,1884-
brother owns a farm just at the-edge of the
town, but I hain't got time to run over there
'fore my train goes. Give mo a dfme and I'll
bring you in the biggest watermelon grown
on my farm when they get ripe.-"
The station agent listened to the old chap's
request, and finally passed over the dime.
But he didn't 6eem satisfied. He kept
watch of the farmer, who had started off
briakly toward the Court house. The station
agent watched him. lie slipped into a sa
loon. The agent quickly followed. The
farmer was just wipinn his mouth.
"Here, you," cried the indignant agent:
"I thought you wunted that dime to pay your
taxes.,' "That's what I did," replied the
tramp; "just paid the last installment. Bin
payin' all my taxes that way for a good many
years. I wonder what^the country is comin'
to —it keeps me poor to pay my taxes. Will
you—" But the station agent had gone.
OJ^E OF BLAINE'S NEIGHBORS. '
The Hon. E.FFt. t JPillsbury Speaks Inside
Facts in Elaine's History.
At a meeting of the Bay State Club, in Bos
ton the chairman said: Gentlemen, we have
irith us a near neighbor of Mr. Blame pres
3nt, and I call upon him [applause.]
The Hon. E. F. Pillsbury then addressed
the meeting, and his appearance was the sig
nal for a loud ovation. He said: Mr. Chair
man, I think I am pretty well acquainted
ivith Hon. James G. Blame. I have encoun
:ered him on the stump, and have fought po
etical battles with him in Maine. I have
studied his methods and I think I understand
liin pretty well. lam free to accord to Mr.
Blame that he has no equal as a politician in
:his country, and he is prolific in his re
sources, and tact and sharpness in politics.
But, beyond that, I have never yet seen a
Repbllcan who could say more for Blame.
No Republican could ever give me a sound
reason why Blame should command the re
spect of this country. I now ask what has
tie done outside of his acts as a politician to
jommand respect; what acts of statesman
ship? With what great measure has he been
illied? No one can tell. What has he done
in statesmanship, in business or in religion,
I you please, that entitles him to this sup
In the matter of Christian religion, James
3-. Blame came to Augusta a Catholic, and
carried his Bible and his rosary to church;
aut, when he went into politics, the Catholic
ihurch was not popular enough, and he
ipostasized and went into the Congregation
il church on the condition that he should
not be called on to make prayer in church
AVhat is his war record that it should en
:itle him to the confidence of the people, al
:houghjie was foremost in the proceedings
:hat led to the war? He was the first to be
.lrafted in his district. But prior to that an
organization had been effected in Augusta to
protect men against the draft, each member
paying $25 to the fund to hire a substitute if
lrafted. Mr. Blaine,out of that fund,hired
i substitute named Bradford. A soft place
was found for the man to remain at the post
in Augusta instead of going to the front.
After a while he was detected in selling'for
money certain certificates, and he was kept
in naif until the close of the war. That con
stituted Mr. Blame's service in the field
[loud laughter]. After the war had closed,
the men who had been drawn claimed that
the towns and cities should pay the expenses
they had been put to, and Augusta gener
ously voted to pay these men the money they
had paid for substitutes, and Mr. Blame got
his bond for §200. But that is not the end.
Afterward a resolution was put before the
common council of Augusta to pay Mr.
Blame $200, the amount he had paid [out
of the pool] for a substitute, and it was voted
and passed, and he was paid [loud applause].
That you can rely on as being a true story.
[A voice: "He was a bad Catholic."]
One would suppose by the way he spoke he
had feasted on rebel meat during the rebel
lion . When the war broke out he was a
a poor man, though that is nothing against
him. But very soon after that, Mr. Blame
was the purchasing "agent for the state of
Maine, and charges have been made and, I
have no doubt, truthfully, that he speculated
largely on these purchases, and so got his
first start. Then it was said, he could get
claims through the government more readily
than any one else, and he had a large per
centage. Before the war closed, there was
a scheme in Maine known as the paper cred
lam not certain that it prevailed any
where else. They claimed that Mr. Blame
had got a special clsuse for the state of Maine
and that those who were in the marine serv
ice would reduce the number required for
the army. They went around to the navy
and got them to give them the right to cred
it them with just such sum as they pleased,
and then they sold them out at from §200 to
§500 each. I representing the town of Far
mington, went to Augusta to investigate if
these credits were all right. Now, we had
twenty or thirty to fill and we paid a? much
as $350 for men. But we went to Lewiston
and then we were told to wait a day or two.
An investigation was called for and then the
Major general was suddenly called away
[laughter]. We could not get any credit and
we had to get live men. These credits were
frauds. There were no men and no names
and the universal belief is that James G.
Blame was at the head of it. It jvas on that
point that Mr. Conkling and he quarreled,
when he compared Conkling to a peacock.
I cannot believe that any honest, thoughtful
man of the Republican party can vote to sup
STORIES OF AMMALS.
The greenfinch bagins to pipe at 1:30
o'clock in the morning, the blackcap at 2:30,
and the quail half an hour later. The spar
row is lazy and the last to rise.
A sparrow's nest was recently assayed at
the Philadelphia mint. It was found in a
box on the roof. The bird flew freely about
in the smelting room, gathering gold dust in
its feathers, which it shook off in the nest.
A New Jersey dog was attacked by a pair
of cats, and, as one jumped on his back, the
other clawed his face. The dog got rid of the
cat on his back by running under a fence,
and then he returned to the charge, and
killed the other c at, while the first escaped.
Farmer Tunnison of Lyons Farms, N. J.
owns a cow and dog which are great friends.
The dog is the cow's companion day and
night, sleeping in the stable. A few days
ago Mr. Tunnison attempted to whip the
dog, whereupon the cow attacked him furi
ously, and drove him from the barnyard.
A horse attached to a buggy, in which were
three JJdrunken men, refused to pass the
Third precinct police station in Albany. The
bystanders said the horse knew the men
ought to be pat into a cell. The men were
finally compelled to quit the wagon, where
upon the horse was driven off without diffl
Thomas Bell, the naturalist, tells a story
of how a spider caught a tartar. A big blue
bottle fly bounced into a spider's web. The
spider hastily presented himself, and threw
its long arms around the fly. The fly re
turned the compliment, and, after battering
and tearing the web into pieces, flow away
with the spider.
Two weasels were so absorbed in the fight
for a mouse in a suburb of Louisville, Ky.,
that they did not hear a farmer approach.
Each had hold of the mouse, pulling in oppi
site directions. They were captured, placed
in a cage, and given bread and other food,
but refused to eat. In a few days one of
them had eaten the other.
A-toad was seen to enter the chicken yard
of Andrew White of New Castle, N. H.,
climb into the feeding saucer of some young
chickens, and roll himself over and over in
the meal. He had noticed that flies swarmed
about the meal dish, and they Boon began to
do so about him. Whenever a fly passed
within two inches of his nose, his tongue
darted out and the fly disappeared.
A Houston doctor had a mocking bird
which lived in the garden. / Whenever he
returned home the bird would fly to a tree in
front of the doorstep and sing for hours.
It appeared to be in an ecstasy of delight
whenever the doctor was at home. The doc
tor died of yellow fever, and after the funer
al the family opened the doctor's room and
found the mockingbird. lying at the head of
the bed, dead. 1
THE CHICAGO HtttABAtOO.
So gallant and glorious
And splendidly' victorious
Was that campaign riproarious, its like ne'er
When we put up our Jingo,
And Logan of the lingo,
That fierce and warlike mingo, upon Chicago's
Our bold brigade of stormers,
With countless gallery swarmers,
Soon Blathered the reformers, and made them
howl and roar;
To their exasperation
We forced the nomination
Almost by acclamation, upon Chicago's chore.
»i~ *We beat them there all hollow,
And they our lead must follow.
And all together swallow the dose that they
For we nre the physicians,
. According to tradition,
Of all the politicians upon Chicago's shore,
With Garfield's secratary
And Logan's dictionary,
We mean to make a merry campaign of gas and
Onr chieftains so magnetic,
Full-blooded and athletic,
Will prove as energetic as on Chicago's shore.
S. B. Elk-us.
CYNTHIA PARKER'S LIFE.
A White Girl Who Became The Moth
er of a Coinanehe Chiefc
Pining Away aM Dying After Being Taken
from her Indian Home—Her Son's Joy
on Beholding a Portrait of Ms
A Fort Worth Correspondence writes: A
few days ago there appeared in one cf the
city paper 3an advertisement saying that a
Comanche chief living near Fort Sill wanted
to obtain a photograph of his mother, Cyn
thia Ann Parker, and asking as a special fa
vor that any one knowing where such a por
trait could be had would communicate with
him. A. F. Corning of McLenan couniy
saw the advertisement, and at once wrote to
the newspaper in question that he could fur
nish the picture. He happened to know that
an old daguerjotype of the woman was in ex
istence i,n Waco, and, taking, this to an ar
tist, he had several copies made, one of
which was sent to the chief.
Cynthia Ann Parker was the heroine of
one of the most touching romances of the
Texas border. Her parents and grand pa
rents were among the pioneers of the state.
Her grandfather, Col. Parker, after whom^
Parker county was named, was a noted man
in his day. The Parkers lived on an ex
posed frontier, and, though formidable in
Indian warfare, they were frequent suffer
ers from raids by savages.
About the year 1840, when the Comanches
swept over that part of the state, the Parkers
lost nearly all their property, and eventually
some of them were.killed, and Cynthia, then
9 years of age, was taken prisoner. Many
efforts were made to rescue her, but all with
out avail. Several times parties of brave
men invaded the camp of the redskins and
searched for the child, and, on at least two
occasions, lives were lost in the effort to re
turn her to her family. Every device was
resorted to to gain information of her.
Sometimes for months it would be believed
that she had been killed, but finally a vague
story would gain circulation to the effect that
a white girl had been seen with a roving
band, and search would be renewed.
When Cynthia was taken captive the sav
ages placed her in charge of their women,
and the child, finding that she was to be well
treated, soon came to ' enjpy the wild life
which she led, and to look upon the Indians
as her natural friends. When her clothing
was worn out she adopted the savage cos
tume. She learned their language, took
part in their games, and eventually, having
become a sturdy woman, joined them on
some of their raids. Ten years after her
capture found her the wife of the war chief
of the tribe, apparently as contented with
her lot as any of the other women who were
her constant associates.
Some years after her marriage, when the
Comauches were at peace with the settlers, a
party of white 5 men entered their camp one
day and found the missing girl, now grown
out of their recollection almost. Two or
three children played about her knee, look
ing much like the other youthful aborigines,
save that they were neater in appearance and
much more carefully watched by their moth
er. When they questioned her they found
that she had almost forgotten her native
tongue, and it was with the utmost difficulty
she could make them understand. She in
quired after her relatives, and asked many
questions about the white people generally;
but in reply to a suggestion that she should
accompany them to her former home she
said she was happily married, had a good
husband and nice children, and could not
leave them. She had made their home her
home, and no other place on earth would be
other than a prison to her. They left her
very much cast down, and on their return
ing to the settlements spread"her stories far
and wide. . *
For a time the interest in her case was re
vived, and many old settlers who knew her
father and grandfather threatened to make
war on the Comanches and take her away
from them. Nothing could convince these
old settlers that Cynthia would stay with the
Indians of her own free will, and it was only
after the most emphatic protests by the men
who had se»n her in her savage home that
her would-be deliverers abandoned the idea
of taking her by force. She was
finally recaptured most unex
pectedly. Being out with a war party of the
Comanches in the fall of 1858, she "was cut
off from the braves in some manner by Gen.
L. S. Ross of Waco, and taken prisoner in
company with several other women. At first
no one recognized her, but after being taken
to Canton, Van Zandt county, some close ob
servers expressed the opinion that she was a
white woman. Then the siory was circulated
that she was Cynthia Parker, traditions of
whose fate still existed, and her brothers
and venerable grandfather were sent for.
The brothers looked at her long and earnest
ly, but could not remember her. The old
man, however, identified her as the stolen
girl, and she finally admitted that he was
right. There was great joy over her recovery
on the part of her relatives and their friends
but not so with her. She vainly tried to es
cape, and passed many hours in tears. She
had with her at the time of her capture her
youngest child, 2 years of age, the two eldest
having been left at home. The little one
had a smattering of Spanish, and the mother
spoke that language as well as the Indian
tongue fluently, but neither knew anything
of English. After a while Cynthia and her
child accompanied herbrothers to their home
in Parker county, where she and the babe
soon pined away and died.
Her two boys who had been left with the
tribe grew to be stalwart warriors, handsome
in form and feature, and more than ordinari
ly intelligent. One of them is now the chief
of the Comanches in the Indian territory, a
man of great influence with both the Indians
and the whites, and under whose guidance
his tribe has made decided progress in civili
zation . He remembers his mother affec
tionately, and his advertisement in the Fort
Worth paper wis the result of his having
heard that just before she died she had her
picture taken. He did not know where to
look for the likeness, but, determining to ob
tain it, or a copy of it, if possible, advertised
in the Texas papers until he found it. He
expressed great ioy when the picture was
placed in his hands.
Tlie Soap Caper.
[Boston Courier. J
A very successful swindle, operated by
street peddlers, is what is technically known
as the soap caper. For the purposes of the
swindle two fellows will buy a lot of cheap
soap and cut it up into small pieces which
are daintily perfumed and nicely wrapped
in fancy colored paper. This is all the stock
in trade needed, except a generous allowance
of cheek. One of the fellows dresses himself
up like a dude, and generally conducts him
self so that everybody to whom he appeals
makes fun of him. Perhaps he does sells
few pieces of the so»p, for it appears to do
what is claimed for it, but he purpesely makes
such an ass of himself that nobody wants to
trade with him. Soon when he is boasting
of how much soap he can sell in a day, a
common looking fellow in the crowd calls
out, "Well, why don't you sell It then?" and
at once they get into a wrangle,which is end
ed by the plain fellow betting that he can sell
more soap in ten minutes than the proprietor
can in half an hour. The bet is generally
quite a large one, and, as sympathy is en
tirely with the common looking fellow, the
crowd comtfs to his support and he rapidly
sells out his share of the soap, and finally al
so disposes of the greater part of the other's
packages. It is needless to say that the fel
lows are confederates, and are playing into
each other's hands.. Two good operators can
makolftcmendous profits' by working this
game; and they run no risk of being ar
THE STAGE DRIVER'S STORY.
How Gen. Scoff's Life ivas Saved and, How
His Driver Twice Escaped Death,
The traveler of the present day, as he ia
hurried along by the ligntning express in its
buffet cars and palace sleepers, seldom re
verts in thought to the time when the stage
coach and packet were the only means of
communication between distant .points. It
is rare that one of the real old time stage
drivers is'met with now-a days and when the
■writer recently ran across Fayette Haskell,of
Lockport, New York, he felt like a biograph
er over the discovery of some rare volume of
"forgotten lore." Mr. Haskell, although ono
of the pioneers in stage driving (he formerly
ran from Lewiston to Niagra Falls and Buff
alo), is hale and hearty and bids fair to live
for many years. The strange stories of his
early adventures would fill a volume. At one
time when going down a mountain near
Lewiston with no less a personage than Gen.
Scott [as a passenger, the brakes gave way
and the coach came on the heels of the wheel
horses. The only remedy was to whip the
leaders to a gallop. Gaining additional mo
mentum with each revolution of the wheels
the coach swayed and pitched down the
mountain side and into the streets of
Lewiston. Straight ahead at the
the foot of the steep hill flowed the Niagara
river, which the four horses dashed,
apparently to certain death. Yet the firm
hand never relaxed his bold nor the clear
brain its conception of what must be done
in the emergency. On dashed the horse till
the narrow dock was reached on the river
bank, when by a masterly exhibition of
nerve and daring, the coach was turned in
scarce its own length and the horses brought
to a stand still before the pale lookers on
could realize what had occurred. A purse
was raised by General Scott and presented to
Mr. Haskell with high compliments of his
skill and bravery.
Notwithstanding all his strength and his
robust constitution the exposure proved too
much for Mr. Haskell's constitution. The
constant jolting of the coach and the neces
sarily cramped position in which he was
obliged to sit, contributed to this end, and
at times he was obliged to abandon driving
Speaking of this period he said:
'■I found it almost impossible to sleep at
night; my appetite left me entirely and I had
a tired feeling which I never knew before
and could not account for."
"Did you give up driving entirely?"
"No. I tried to keep up but it was only
with the greatest effort. This state of things
continued for nearly twenty years until last
October when I went all to pieces."
"In what way?"
"Oh, I doubled all up; could not walk
without a cane and was incapable of any ef
fort or exertion. I had a constant desire to
urinate both day and night and although I felt
like passing a gnljon every ten minutes only
a few crops could escape and they thick with
sediment. Finally it ceased to flow entirely
and I thought death was very near."
"What did you do then?"
"What I should have done long before;
listen to my wife. Under her advice I began
a new treatment."
"And with what result?"
"Wonderful. It unstopped the closed
passages and what was still more wonderful
regulated the flow. The sediment vanished;
my appetite returned and I am now well and
good for twenty more years wholly through
the aid of Warners' Safe Cure that has done
wonders for me as well as for so many oth
Mr. Haskell's experience is repeated every
day in the lives of thousands of American
men and women. An unknown evil is un
dermining the existence of an inumerable
number who do not realize the danger they
are in until health has entirely departed and
death perhaps stares them in the face. To
neglect suqh important matters is like drift
ing in the current of Niagara above the Falls.
A Bit of Secret History.
Mr. Charles H. Bergner, of Hamburgh,
Pennsylvania, a prominent lawyer of that
city, has declared he will not support Blame.
This is his reason, as given in a special to
the Pittsburg JW:
"It is commonly believed," said Mr.
Bergner, "that Mr. Blame was defeated for
the nomination in 1876 because he was ob
noxious to the Cameron ring. There is
nothing further from the truth, and the only
color for the statement lies in the fact that
Senator Cameron was opposed to him. His
defeat was accompanied by a disclosure made
by William M. Kemble, who was a delegate
from the fourth district, Philadelphia, and
had no reference, direct or indirect, to the
relations between Senator Cameron arid Mr.
"After the sixth ballot had been completed
continued Mr. Bergner, "it became evident
that the issue would be decided on the next.
The Pennsylvania delegates had been voting
for John F. Hartranft, in obedience to the
resolutions of the 6tate convention. In or
der that the state might make itself
felt in the succeeding ballot, the delegation
withdrew for consultation. While they
were engaged there the late Morton McMich
ael and General Bingham addressed them
selves earnestly to the delegates in advocacy
of voting for Blame. At the conclusion of
Mr. McMichael remarks it was evident a deep
impression had been made. Just as the
vote was about to be taken Mr. Kemble arose.
He asked the delegates to pause in the mat
ter, and *gave his opinion that the nomina
tion of Blame would bring defeat to the par
ty. He referred to the damaging stories that
would be told, and to the doubtful record Mr.
Blame had made during his public life.
He drew from his pocket two cancelled
cheeks and continued: "I never had any
legetimate business transactions with Mr.
Blame. The only relations we have ever
had are represented by these two checks.
They are signed by me, made payable to his
order, and indorsed by him and returned to
me through the ordinary channels of such
"When Mr. Blame was speaker of the
house of congress I was interested in some
pending legislation. I asked his assistance
in the way of favorable ruling. He agreed
to rule as I asked for $5,000. I paid him the
money with this check (exhibiting the §5,000
check). Subsequently Blame came to me
and demanded $2,500 more, and I was
obliged to yield, and made the second pay
ment with this check (exhibiting the f3,
--500 check). Now said Mr Kemble, I defy any
man to say that I had any other business
transaction with Blame, and I defy any man
to dispute the genuineness of this endorse
ment in Blame's handwriting. If he is nom
inated by this convention I will give these
facts to the public and defeat is certain to
follow. I have no objections to buying a
man, but I do complain that he wouldn't
stay bought and reouired a second payment.
"The effect of this speech was electrical."
continued Mr. Bergner. "When Kemble
sat down he handed the canceled checks
around among the delegates and they were
examined carefully and critically. I had
them in my hand and am satisfied that they
were genuine. Immediately after the vote
was taken and the delegation decided to cast
its vote for Hayes. That vote decided the
issue against Blame."
Mr. Bergner's friends assert that he will
vote for Butler.
While the balloting in the Chicago conven
tion of 18S0 was in progress General Simon
Cameron, alluding to the same matter, said
to a neighbor that it was evident that the
people were for Blame but owing to the evi
dence against him it would be fatal to nom
The newspapers sent to a stationer of Dor
chester are taken to him by a dog, who calls
at the railroad station for them. The train
hands sometimes put his master's bundle
under a dozen others at the station, but the
dog invariably throws them all off and picks
out the right one. The porter says that the
dog sometimes even jumps into the van on
its arrival and selects his own parcel.
Personal Sketches of Mrß. Blame and
..Who is to be the next mistress of the
White house is now agitating the palpitating
heart of socipty in Washington. Whether it
will be Mrs. Blame, with her tall command
ing figure, stern New England face, re
served, almost exclusive manner, or whether
the wife of some Democrat, say Mrs. Justice
Field, whose home is now the old capital
prison, overlooking the caDitol; Mrs. Mac-
Donald, of whom mrny unkind and unjust
things have been written; Mrs. Bayard,
whose long residence in Washington as a
senator's wife fits h£r for this position, or
whether we shall have again a bafhelor presi
dent, as was the case in the last Democratic
administration—these are questions dis
cussed among society people who look to
the occupant of the White house as con
trolling to a great extent social affairs
during the presidential term. Should Mrs.
Blame be the mistress of the White House
fewer people would see its walls and enjoy
its social privileges than was the ease when
under the last mistress proper of the White
House. Mrs. Blame is a lady honored in
society, beloved by those who know her
well, but has not the happy faculty of mak
ing friends and acquaintances and retaining
them which her husband possesses, A so
ciety writer discoursing upon the subject re
cently said: "It is being discussed in so
ciety by those who remember the plans for
great exclusiveness at the White house be
gun (and suggested, as all believe, by Mrs.
Blame) with the early weeks of the Garfield
administration how thoroughly Mrs. Blame,
if her husband is elected president, will car
ry out the project, for, as she then expressed
it, "making people esteem it a privilege to
go the White house." It,is a well-known
fact that many who went to call on Mrs.
Garfield on Tuesday and Friday evenings at
the White house before her illness began
were refused admission, while others at the
same time were admitted. Some were re
fused even after they sent in their cards.
Mrs. Blame is of New England stock, tall,
well formed, with strongly marked features
set in a frame of gray, almost white hair,
stern earnest character and manner, and a
long experience in public life such as few
women have had. The mother of a half
dozen of children, she has not allowed her so
cial duties to interfere with those of her home,
and yet,on the other hand,has never neglect
ed her duties to society or her husband's posi
tion. The entertainments at the Blame
mansion have always been elegant and at
tended by only the best elements of society.
Personally she does not enjoy public life or
its honors, and it is more that the crowning
ambition of her husband's life might be re
alized that she welcomed the result of Chica
go, than for her own sake or that of her
The* duties of "Mistress of the White
house" are not of a character to make them
agreeable to a retiring woman such as Mrs.
Blame. Indeed, the duties of society in
Washington are of a most exacting and
painful nature. The wife of the president
and those of the cabinet officers are exempt
from some of the duties, in that they are not
required to return the calls of all whose faces
are seen in their parlors or whose cards fall
like snow flakes at their doors. Indeed, it
would be a physical impossibility that they
shouldjdo this, for their callers are numbered
by thousands. To make the"Cabinet rounds"
on Wednesday, or call on the mistress of
the White house on Saturday afternoon, is
considered the privilege of any one in this
free and republican country, and the result
is that these ladies see thousands of people
whom they do not know, and of course, do
not care to know. Yet there are many du
ties which the mistress of the White house
must assume, which are very laborious.
1 The long Saturday afternoon receptions,
at which she must stand hour after hour and
shake wearily the hands of the hundreds and
thousands who drift by, few really caring for
her,the majority curiosity seekers in aso me
what higher sense than the word is used
when applied to the rabble which surges
through the White house when it is thrown
open to the public on New Year's and at va
rious times of this sort. The President usu
ally holds a little reception each day at noon,
receiving those who have called during the
forenoon and have cared to wait. In this,
happily, the mistress of the White house is
not expected to join. There are, however,
many other duties quite as difficult. The
many state dinners at which she must sit for
hours, the. return dinners given by cabinet
officers, the ceremonial visits of representa
tives of foreign governments,all add greatly
to the duties of the position. Mrs Blame is
by experience and physique well-fitted for
this duty. She has been for a quarter of a
century here, during nearly all of which time
her husband has been a central figure in
house or senate or cabinet, and as a matter
of course her home has been a social center.
No other woman in Washington, except,
perhaps, Mrs. Logan has had broader exper
iences in this regard, or is better able to fill
the arduous duties of the place.
Gen. Logan is the first married man nomi
nated by the Republicans for Vice-Presidentjin
20 years. His wife, Mrs. Logan, is one of the
most popular and brilliant women in society.
In figure she is much like her associate ,Mrs.
Blame, and in face they are somewhat simi
lar. In gentleness of manner and tact as a
politician and social leader she is surpassed
by few. She is one of the busiest women in
social and political life. She attends per
sonally to the senator's political affairs, su
pervising the work relative to his large -cor
respondence, examining into the subjects re
ferred to in the thousands of letters he re
ceives, and making herself quite as familiar
with his affairs as he_ is himself. Personally
she is perhaps the better politician of the two
She has taken a fighting hand in all of his
campaigns, aud in ability to entertain and
make friends personal and political, she is
surpassed by few people in public life. One
other senator's wife is something like her in
this respect—Mrs. Gen. Williams of Ken
tucky. In person, Mrs. Logan is quite as at
tractive as Mrs. Blame, in manner, even
more so. She is tall, with ronnded figure, a
handsome, intelligent face, hair almost as
white as the driven snow, in marked con
trast with the raven locks of "Black Jack her
Certainly the gentler portion of the Repub
lican ticket is able, and can be depended on
a brilliant administration" should the par-
Ty be successful as is claimed for the sterner
and more widely known portion,the respect
ive candidates for president and vice-pres
Oh and Off the Bench.
[Detroit Free Press. | "
Two residents of Springwells had a diffi
culty over a game of cards the other day, and
the resultjwas the arrest of one for assault and
battery. When the case was called yester
day the complainant took the stand to ex
plain how it happened.
"You see judge," he began, "we were
three points up."
"What's a point?" blandly inquired the
'•Why we were playing five point euchre,
we each had three. A point counts one your
"He dealt and it was my lead.'
"Deal, lead, please explain."
"Why, he shuffled the cards and dealt the
hand and it was my first play."
"Well, go on, perhaps I can understand."
"I led the ace of diamonds, and he
trumped it with a club. That is, he refused
"Do you mean he refused to be sued?"
"No sir. I'd like to explain this thing to
you, because it was about the suit we had our
"I'see, go on. You said you put a dia
mond down on the table. Did he grab it?"
"He trumped it with a club."
"Ah! Did you see him carry this club
around before ydu sat down to play?"
"Your honor, I'd like to take a pack of
cards and explain to you."
"No use, no use. I've heard some of the
aldermen speak of the right and left bpwers,
aiid I've heard of jacks and kings and aces,
but it would be lost time to try to show me.
You don't seem to have any case."
"But that's because you don't understand
' . 3
me. ' When I charge* I him -with refusing.
suit he struck me in the mouth."
"Did, eh! . Well there : isn't ■■ any case to
speak of. The prisoner .is", discharged, ; ana •
you'd' better whack up on the costs." :l'
"And to think?" groaned the .; counsel fo»
the plaintiff as he reached ; the sidewalk,:
"that only the. evening before this same in* ■
nocentold J. P. beat me out of seven glass*
es of beer at that very game of euchre, , and
I'll take my solemn affldavy that he stocked
the cards on me at least every other hand I"
Seasons Why Toting Men Should Vote th< :
Democratic Ticket. '.
■-:.■■. [Indianapolis Sentinel.]
sl. Because the leaders of the Republican
party in the campaign of 1880 were compose^
of star route thieves, and, received the rnoij* I
ey, knowing it to be stolen, to buy poof
men's votes with.
I 2. Because every man who has stolen
from the United States in the past twenty"
five years is a Republican
3. Because every man who' cries down
with a solid South is a stay-at-home Republi
can, and dare not face cannon in the hour
of our country's needs, but now cries out
.South." .. .... _,
4. Because every man who fights the giv
ing of a disabled soldier a pension is a Re
5. Because every man - who bought gov
ernment' bonds when gold was worth $2.90,
and voted ever since not to pay the soldie*
in the front the full .value. of . his contract,
but to pay him in a depreciated currency, is
a Republican. .
6. Because the man" who . assissinated
President parfield was a Republican—*
"Stalwart of the Stalwarts." '-] I
7. Because the man who would destroy
the religion of our forefathers by denying
there is a God is a leader of g. m. p..and »'
Republican, , '
8. Because the men who are supposed to
be honorable and. whose position is such as?
to inspfre the people that a claim before
them would be decided according to law and
evidence, and who voted in every contested
electoral vote in 1876, no difference what tha
evidence was, to seat his fraußulency Hayes,
as president, were Republicans..
A Stofy of Twenty-five Millions.
About one hundred and thirty-five year*
ago, John Nicholas Emerich died in Phila
delphia. The fact would be of little moment
at this" day if he had not left a large fortune.
He was a native of Hesse-Darmstadt and
amassed his wealth in the ocean trade. Hia
partners were Stephen Girard and John Ja
cob Astor. He died on one of his own ves
sels at sea while on his way to Philadelphia
and his remains were taken to that city and.
buried in the old • German Lutheran cem
etery.. At the time of his death Mr. Erne
rich's estate was worth several million dollars,
but it has increased since and is to-day^
worth probably $25,000,000. This includea
$4,000,000 on deposit in the Bank of Eng
land, large sums deposited elsewhere and)
valuable property in Philadelphia, New York
and Germany. No will was found, and du
ring the past century several persons claim
ing to be the rightful heirs set up claims, buftl
no settlement was ever reached. Recently, ]
Mrs. John Boss of Pittsburg made an applica
tion to Max Schaumburg, the Austrian con-]
sul, to procure a distribution of Eme'rich's
estate. She asserts' that her mother was a
niece of John Nicholas* Emerich, and that!
she has received information from relatives'
in Germany of the finding in an old book
that was taken from the Philadelphia , church,
of the will of John Nicholas Emerich, the
millionaire. Another claimant appears in,
Philadelphia, and she will join with the
grand-niece in a petition for a division of
the estate.,, At the corner of Chestnut street
and Twelfth in the Quaker City there has'
been for some years a flower stand, kept by;
i Susannah Emerich, a spruce , little woman,
who, since her husband's death, despite the
patronage of many who had become Interest
ed: in her, has been in very straitened cir«
cumstances. She says there were two broth
ers, John Nicholas and Boltus Emerich, both,
of whom were very rich.. They were born
and reared in Hesse-Darmstadt, where Mrs.
Emerich's husband and ancestors lived. 1
Her husband was Daniel Emerich,. a grand
son of Benjamin Emerich, who was a nephew 1
of John Nicholas. ■ She has in her possession
a family bible containing the records of
births and deaths of her husband's ancestors
which traces them directly back to the dead
millionaire, and, in addition to the bible
record, a number of papers proving her an
cestry. Counsel have been consulted and
steps are on foot to secure a redistribution of
the estate, which at the death of John Nich
olas went to the heirs of'his brother Blotus.
Should the poor flower woman succeed in
proving her claim and obtaining a portion oi
the inheritance, she will be warmly congrat
ulated by those who knew her in her adver
sity, and can not fall of a •welcome in that
exclusive society which asks "Who -was youf
A Reminiscence of Macready.
I saw Macready much of tener than I have
ever seen any other actor, and I studied him
more closely, watching him not only from,
the seats that afforded the best view but occa
sionally from behind the scenes and while he
was superintending rehearsals. I had some
conversation with him once for several
hours' duration, chiefly on the subject of
Shakespeare and acting. » One night when
he was playing "Macbeth" I donned tha
robe of the doctor, and made my first —and
last—appear'ence "on the stage." I paid nd
attention to the audience, and the audience,
it is to be hoped, paid no attention to me.
But I gained the object of my experiment,
that of getting a glimpse of the matter from
the actor's point of view, . comprehending
the different prospective, feeling the whirr
and bustle of the scene inside of looking at
and hearing it from a,' distance.. Macbeth,
at my entrance, left the attendants, to whom
he was giving impatient and imperious or
ders, and, striding across the stage with a
step that seemed to shake the boards, he sta
tioned himself so near to me that all | the
lines in his face appeared to be magnified,
like those of a picture to the close gaze of a
short-sighted man. In tones that sounded
like thunder .he demanded of me that X
should minister to a mind diseased and do
other things not then recognized as within
the scope of the healing art. On . receiving
my disclaimer of such power he. turned hit
back upon me. as one is so apt to do on the
doctor who makes ; a candid . acknowledge
ment of his impotency, and with that scorn
ful ejaculation which shows how" little love
Shakespeare had for his canine species,
"Throw physic to the dogs!" strode back to
have his armor buckled on," turning, in; the
intervals of his ' stormy chidings, to direct
some . inquiry or splenetic remark to me,
and at last rushing off to meet the approach
ing foe. It was like being suddenly trans
ported from the shore to the deck of a vessel
tossed by the waves and straining beneath
the gale. -
Something Wrong Someichere. .
[Detroit Free Press. I ■-
"Do your women customers bother yon
much?" asked a citizen who was talking with ]
a Woodward avenue grocer the other morn
ing. y '■_.'.., ;;:,:- .• . ...'.,!.. ../ .
"Well, they seldom want to pay the prices.
It seems , natural for them to want to beat
down the figures'. There comes one now
who probably wants strawberries. Here
are 'some fresh ones at fifteen cents per
quart, and yet if 1 I should ask her only
eleven 1 bhe'd want 'em for ten." ' ■ : -
. "Say, try it on, just for a joke. : If she
asks the price put it at eleven." ..,..,
. The grocer agreed, and presently the wom
an came up, counted the sixteen boxes ol
berries under her nose, and of course in
quired: . ':-i : ,
"Have you any strawberries this morning!' 1
"In quart boxes?"
"Only eleven cents per box, madam."
"I'll take the r whole lot," she quietly obi i
served, as she handed out a $5 bill, and take
'cm she did. .. • ' .
; The citizen disappeared at that moment, :
and . the grocer, believes that it was a put-up
job between the two. ".;. . . •
: ■"; The District Record mentions the report of
an able-bodied California salmon in Detroit
• lake supposed to weigh' a about 100 pounds-
Capt. Day, offers $25 for : the ■ capture of the
'."sea" monster" dead or alive.•'■•:■- " - •