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The Baltimore County union. (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, June 05, 1909, Image 1

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VOL. 60. WHOLE No. 2317.
Near Reisterstown Road, ARLINGTON, Md.
, . 0
< .
Do., a general Banking Business in all that I. consistent with safe and careful man
agement. The location of our Bank makes It the most convenient place for a large
number of residents of Baltimore county to transact their financial business.
During the short time our Bank has been open for business the. amount of deposits
has reached a success far in excess of onr expectations.
We have a SAVINGS DEPARTMENT and pay interest, on money deposited there.
Call and see us and we will explain why it will be to your advantage to open an
account with us.
Prompt attention given to all collection bnslness entrusted to us.
■ , a—
—: OFFICERS :-r-
President. HOWARD E. JACKBON, *d Vice-President. Cashier.
Second National Bank
JMk We invite the accounts of Individuals, Firms, Corporations, Societies,
Executors, Administrators, Trustees, Ac.
/ft —o— A
J ( —“ J |
' y Collections Made. *B# Loans Negotiated.
Banking in All Its Branches.
President. Harrison Rider, 1 Cashier.
Harrison Rider, Chas. H. Knox, Noah E, Offutt,
Feb. B—ly
The*Farmer's * Conveniences
< i Are not alone confined to the Rnral Free Delivery and the Telephone, but < [
< * there is another convenience that all farmers should have—and many do ] >
< [ have—that Is a checking account with 4 J
< > The possessor of such an account avoids the risk of having his money on < [
4 ’ his person or about his home where it is in danger of fire and thieves. ] >
< | His bills paid by chock are not only a valid receipt, bnt also a convent- 4 |
] • ence in his home transactions, where very often the necessary change for < ,
4 1 concluding a settlement is not at hand. < *
Don’t stop to think this over, bnt start an account with ns now. 4 [
i| The Towson National Bank, i|
<! DinECTons. <;
!> JOHN CROWTHER, President; D. H. RICE, Vice-President;
4 * Col. Walter S. Franklin, Lewis M. Bacon, J
< | Hon. J. Fred. C. Talbott, Wilton Creenway, , |
] > Hon. John S. Blddison, Ernest C. Hatch. <,
,; Emanuel W. Harman, w q OBADMEE , Cashier. !;
< > innnnnnAjmiy\AAJLftAAAAiVLi\AAAruv\AiVU*Lnr
Fine quality Bicycle equipped with good tires,
finely nickled bar, best grade enamel, fancy red
head, tool bag and tools, all complete, for sl6.9t<.
S9"otherß up to 140.00. "S3S
I Thit “ad" and 39 els brings new I
| ttyle Hie, frame pump, prepaid.
Baseball and Athletic Supplies at lowest
figures. Official League Balls 89c„ postage
free. This week only.
221 W. Baltimore Street, Baltimore, Hd,
May B—ly
Ralph W. Rider,
Livery, Sales and Exchange
Near the York Road, TOWSON, Md.
First-Class Teams and Automobiles
Mch. 13 —3m
121 Light Street, Baltimore, Md.,
Desire to inform those whom |oraay concern that
they have on hand
New & Old Canvas of All Weights Sizes
Which they will make up for you into
Wagon Covers, Hay Covers,
At most reasonable rates. A call is respectfully
solicited. Mail orders given prompt attention.
May B—3m*
Established 1885.
Suitable and specially adapted for
Saw Mill and Threshermen’s Use.
Transmits more power than any other Belt.
Thoroughly Waterproof and Fully Guaranteed.
EV”Wrlte for prices, etc., to
823 McKim Street, Bet. Madison and Eager
Streets, Baltimore, Md.
Apl. 24—6 m
From $15.00 to $30.00.
512 and 514 North Gay Street,
Apl. IT—ly
My new line 1. all thatcould be desired, showing
The Latest and Most Rxcln.lve
Neat and tasty work assured you at moderate
iwWon’t you favor me with an order ?
City and Country Work receive personal and
prompt attention.
Cor. Chase Street, BALTIMORE, Md.
49*Telephone. Apl. 24—ly
Special Attention Given to Ornamental
JOHN L. WAGNER, Florist,
C. A P. Phone—Towson 8-F. [Nov. 21—ly
PIANOS tuned
In Any Part of the County.
Raspeburg, R. F. D„ Md.
C. & P. Tel.—Hamilton 4-k. [Sept. 28—ly
362 and 364 N. Gay Street, Baltimore, Md.
Headquarters for Blacksmith and Horseshoers’
Supplies and Builders’ Hardware. Bar Iron, Steel
Springs, Axles, Wheels, Shafts, Spokes, Bims.
Hubs, Horse Shoes. Horse Shoe Nails. Horse Shoe
Pads, Rubber Tires, Rubber Tire Channels and
Appliances, Wheelwright Material and Supplies.
Headquarters for Field and Lawn Fence, Lawn
Swings, Lawn Mowers, Lawn Sprinklers. A pos
tal card will reach us. [Apl.24Uan.3o
Staple, Fancy k Green Groceries
Fruits In season. Fresh and Salt Meats.
Full line of Tobaooos, Foreign and Domestlo
Cigars, St o.
Sept. 12—ly TOWSON, Md.
For “The Union.”
Bright crown on a bill of old Howard,
You gleam in the sun’s golden light;
By venerable oaks, 000 l embowered.
Brave sentinels, guarding with might.
And a column of towering pines
Stands evermore stately and true.
Whilst the fields eatch the glory that shines
In the infinite dome of the blue.
On the soft, downy wings of morning
Cling odors distilled from the rose.
And when orchards are fair adorning
Their forms after winter’s repose.
Then violets bloom in the meadows,
And arbutus their pink faces show
By the roadside, and blue myrtle grows,
And the wlldroses’ perfumes blow.
Far away range the hills of Howard
And encircle the vales of rest.
Whose grasses with petals are showered
By winds that stir hopes in the breast;
All the woodlands with love songs are filled.
While the streams with low-laughter sweet
Sparkle down where the mocking-bird thrilled
Each heart with Its musical treat.
All about you dream summers of gold.
Soft-lulled by the murmur of bees—
And rare sunsets tbelr beauty unfold
And sink in Athena’s blue seas.
Each fair autumn in russet and red.
Sweeps over the harvested field;
And to all your slopes withered and dead
Grim Winter his ermine doth yield.
O storms that rage wild o’er the valley
Break In blessings o’er sweet Oak Hill.
0 winds that in orchards oft daily
Bear a message each heart to thrill.
O sunsets of flame and wild glory.
And birds with eaeh love song so sweet.
Repeat evermore life’s old story
And gladden earth’s years all too fleet. _
How She Captured the Captain and Earned a
Loving Cap.
The Alcestris had been visited by
several minor mishaps. The chief
engineer was hurt by something which
got loose and caught him a swinging
blow while he was making an official
inspection. A man had fallen over
board and been picked up and a delay
of an hour had resulted. The ship’s
doctor had been laid up by an attack
of rheumatism.
Captain Thomas Felton was an ad
mirable mariner with a proper pride
in his profession and a full apprecia
tion of his responsibility. There were
800 souls in his care and there was a
time schedule to remember.
Naturally, there were occasions
when Captain Felton permitted him
self to feel Irritated. Anything that
interfered with the running of his
ship passed upon the province of his
official dignity was quickly resented.
On the third day out from New
York the captain was not in an en
tirely agreeable humor.
The man who went overboard had
been shoved on deck from the rescu
ing boat, and the captain had just
given orders for the Alcestris to re
sume her course, when he saw Mrs.
Fenniger Brown approaching.
The captain had been a salty mari
ner for nearly forty years, but he
couldn’t get seasoned to the passen
ger who asks foolish questions—and
most questions are foolish from a liner
captain’s point of view.
Mrs. Fenniger Brown was approach
ing middle age. She was also ap
proaching stontnais. It was under
stood that she was a widow, travel
ing alone, and that she had plenty of
“Good morning, captain,” said the
lady. “Quite an interesting epi
She referred to the annoying res
The captain growled deep down in
his throat, but made no reply.
“Who was the poor man?”
“A coal passer, madam.”
“Married ?’’
The captain made another inarticu
late remark.
“I do not know, madam.’’
“I was thinking how hard it would
have been for you to notify his wife
and children —but perhaps he has no
children. How old did you say he
The captain swallowed hard.
“I know nothing whatever about
him, madam.”
“A new man, I suppose. Perhaps
not familiar with the ship. How
dreadful it would have been if the
boat hadn’t picked him up ! I re
member hearing my brother George
tell about a man who fell overboard
in the night and they burned rockets
and blew whistles. But really, now,
that may have been on the Mississippi
River. Anyway, my impression is
that the man was intoxicated.”
The captain did not answer.
“You don’t think the poor fellow
will catch cold, do you, captain?”
the lady solicitously inquired.
“I don’t think anything about it,”
said the captain, gruffly.
But the inquisitive passenger was
not discouraged.
“And about where are we now,
captain ?’ ’
She had asked this question every
time they bad met.
The captain frowned darkly.
“Madam,” he said, “if you will
consult the second officer he will show
you the chart and give you the ship’s
And he turned abruptly away.
The inquisitive lady wasn’t annoyed
by this unceremonious departure.
“He’s got such a lot on his mind,”
she said, and looked after him sym
And the captain, stalking away,
also spoke to himself.
“If that confounded woman both
ers me with any more fool questions
I’ll put her in irons—or posh her
He glanced as he paused by the
rail. The inquisitive woman had
paused by the chair of the invalid
professor, and the captain could tell
by the way she nodded and gestured
that she was busy at her favorite di
“Poor chap,” grumbled the cap
A faint smile softened his serious
face as he stalked along.
From that moment he carefully
avoided the woman who talked. He
moved away when he saw her com
ing, he affected not to hear her when
she called-to him across the table.
And this required constant vigi
He told himself that in all his ex
perience he had never met such an
annoying passenger. If she had been
I a man be would have squelched her
curiosity instantly. Being a woman
he could only avoid her.
Occasionally she caught him and
threw a few swift questions at him
that made him feel irritable for hours
“Why in blazes couldn’t she have
taken some other ship?” he growl
ingly demanded of the choppy waves.
And then, noting the alarming fact
that she was bearing down on him,
he didn’t wait for the answer to his
query, but turned quickly and beat
an inglorious retreat.
The Alcestris having lost a num
ber of precious hours, was doing her
best to make amends. The captain,
with an eye out for the woman who
talked, was watching the ship’s pro
gress with glowing satisfaction.
It was midafternoon of Sunday.
There was a heavy sea running and
the Alcestris was steadily butting her
way through it with a fine display of
snowy spindrift rising from her sturdy
There were few passengers on deck,
the sea was too rough for comfort,
but among the half dozen who ven
tured out was the woman who talked.
The captain, at the rail, caught
sight of her.
“That gabbling nuisance can’t even
take time to be decently seasick,” he
grumbled, and turned again to watch
the hazy sea.
With much care the woman who
talked made her way along the un
steady deck. Several times she stop
ped and stared up at the foggy sky.
Then she resolutely resumed her way.
And with every careful step she
approached nearer the captain.
Some hidden influence seemed to
tell him of her presence.
He turned and saw her coming.
She smiled.
“About where are we now, cap
tain ?”
He fairly groaned and bis frown
was dark indeed.
And then he saw a swift change
come over the woman’s face. Her
smile faded, a look of wild terror di
lated her gray eyes. She was not
looking at him, but at some fearful
object behind him. Her lips moved.
She was trying to cry out.
Before the captain could turn, a
wild shriek rang out and something
struck the ship a crashing, stagger
ing blow. The captain was hurled to
the deck and remembered no more.
The woman who talked had gone
down, too, but she was better pre
pared. She had seen the peril ap
proaching and had crouched to meet
it. As she fell she clinched at a coil
of rope and clutched at the captain,
too. She got her hand in his collar
and hung on for dear life—one hand
clinging to the rope the other holding
fast to the unconscious man’s collar.
A deluge of water ponred over
them, but she did not release her
The Alcestris, staggered by the
blow, heeled far over. The decks
were swept by the mighty wave, the
water poured below through every
opening, the engines stopped, the
steamer swung from her course.
There were wild cries of dismay.
For a moment It seemed as if the ship
could not rally. Then she slowly
The woman who talked pulled her
self to her feet. She was a sorry fig
ure —gasping, dripping, half-drowned.
A dozen men of the crew ran by
“She’s going down I” shrieked
The woman staggered forward.
The men were at one of the boats.
They were in frantic haste.
“Stop that!” screamed the woman.
“Don’t be cowards ! The danger is
over. Get back to your duty I”
She pushed among them, shaming,
They stared at her, sullen and
“Help those who are hurt!” she
cried. “Save the ship I Be men !
Pick up your captain there !”
The crisis was passed. The men,
shamefaced, drew back.
And then the first mate ran for
ward, and the woman, cold and shiv
ering, sank down against the rail.
It was late in the evening when the
captain regained consciousness. A
familiar murmur awakened him. He
seemed in a confused way to recog
nize the voice. He slowly opened
his eyes. He was in his cabin —in
his berth.
His head throbbed, he was full of
soreness. He tried to raise his right
arm. It dropped back from weak
ness. He groaned.
A man stepped to his bedside. It
was Carlton, the second mate.
“Well, cap’n,” he cheerfully said.
He bent a little lower. “Anything
you want?”
The captain stared at him. He
noted that his arm was in a sling.
“What hit us, Carlton ?”
“We shipped a big sea, sir. Regu
lar tidal wave. Hit us on th’ port
“And the ship?”
“Pretty near flopped over, sir.
Shifted the coal an’ broke down a
bulkhead, an’ smashed up some rail
ing. Hurt a dozen or so, but nobody
went overboard.”
“The captain groaned again.
“What’s wrong with your arm?”
“Elbow dislocated, sir.”
The captain groaned again.
“Can’t I get up? Where’s the
doctor ?”
“He’s worse, sir.”
“Worse? Who’s looking after the
wounded ?”
“One of th’ passengers, sir. No
body’s neglected.”
The captain drew a sobbing breath.
“What’s all that racket ?”
“It’s the carpenter, sir,. He’s
patching up things. An’we’re keep
in’ one of the pumps workin’. She
took in an awful lot of water, sir.
Bnt we’ll have everything pretty
much shipshape by morning.”
The captain squirmed and a thous
and pains ran through his bandaged
1 head.
1 “Waterlogged in midocean,” he
• groaned. “Poor old Alcestris!”
1 “Oh, ’taint so bad as that,” broke
in the second mate. ‘ ‘The sea’s gone
1 down, an’ there’s only a mite of a
breeze. We’ll be on onr way again
by dawn.”
A savage gleam came into the cap
tain’s eyes.
“Didn’t I hear a woman talking to
you, Carlton?”
"Yes, sir.”
“Well, don’t you dare to let that
woman come near me ! Do you hear
me ?”
The second mate shook his bead.
“I hear, sir, but I can’t make any
such promise.”
Thecaptain’s look wasfierce indeed.
“What’s that!”
The second mate’s voice grew
“Don’t get excited, cap’n. You
see you don’t know what’s happened.
That woman is sort of bossin’ the
ship just now. You ask the first
The captain stared.
“What in blue blazes does that
foolishness mean?” he hoarsely de
manded. “Haven’t you told me every
thing that’s happened?”
“Not about her, cap’n,” the sec
ond mate promptly replied. He
moistened his lips. “In the first
place, it looks as if she saved you
from goto’ overboard. Jenkinson
saw it all. There was you, helpless
as a log, an’ there was the woman
holdin’ to your collar for dear life,
and there was the old Alcestris on her
beam ends. An’ then, sir, when the
ship righted an’ a lot of th’ deck
hands ran for the boats, she was right
there among ’em an’ beggin’ ’em, an’
shamin’ ’em, —en’ killin’ what might
have been a panic right there an’
then. Mr. Saunders will tell you,
sir. He got there when ’twas all
The captain drew a long breath.
“Goon, Carlton.”
“Well, an’ she’s th’ passenger I
spoke to yon about.”
“What passenger?”
“Why, the one that’s doin’ th’ doc
torin’. It seems that she was a hos
pital nurse when she was younger an’
she knows every rope in the business.
Nursed a whole minin’ camp through
a fever once. That’s where she got
used to facin’ men. Say, you ought
to have seen her stitchin’ up a nasty
cut in Tom Martin’s shoulder. An*
the way she snapped the bones back
in my arm was a merry caution. Bnt
it was you she patched an’ plastered
up first of all —an’ she says she’ll
have you on deck again by to-morrow
afternoon, sure.” The second mate
paused. “So yon see cap’n, there
ain’t nobody on th’ ship that wonld
wan’t to interfere with thelady. You
ask Saunders.”
There was a little silence.
“Guess I’ll try to sleep,” said the
“She said it was the best thing for
you,” remarked the second mate.
The Alcestris limped along her
course, and the sun shone fair, and
the bruised and battered ones grew
And then it was the night before
the overdue steamer crept into port
and the officers were giving a com
plimentary dinner —and the recipient
of this honor was the woman who
talked. There was to be a loving cup
given her when the ship reached
shore and the details could be ar
ranged—a loving cup to which each
person aboard had contributed a bit
of metal—a ring here, a gold coin
there, a dime, a shilling, even a cop
per. And all these pieces were to
be fused into a cup of loving remem
There had been singing and
speeches from the officers and passen
gers, and a brief, though much ap
plauded speech from the honored
guest —who seemed to have suddenly
lost her volubility.
And presently the captain rose, his
pale face flushing beneath the white
bandage about his head.
“I just want to add a word to what
has been so well said,” he slowly an
nounced, His gaze rested on the wo
man who talked. “If this dear lady,”
he went on, “can find any question in
God’s world to ask me when I am on
official dnty, and I can find in God’s
world any answer to give her, she
shall have it promptly and cheerfully
—even if I have to stop the ship to
deliver it.”
And he sat down amid thunders of
applause. — W. R. Rose, in Cleveland
Plain Dealer.
A country correspondent fora Ken
tucky newspaper once found himself
in the mountains of that State looking
for items of interest to his journal.
“There ain’t a bit of news,” said
one farmer. “All down this way are
too busy with their crops to think of
anything else.”
“Fine crops this year, eh?” asked
the correspondent.
“Couldn’t be better,” asserted the
farmer. “I onghter be in my field
right now, an’ I would be only I come
to town to see the coroner.”
“The coroner?”
“Yes; he’s wanted to hold an in
quest on a couple of fellers in our
“I reckon not. Ran Morgan ain’t
doin’ nuthin’ like that by accident!
He got Jim Jeffords an’ his brother
Tom with two shots ! Got to have
an inquest though.”
“What led to the fight?”
“There wa’n’t no fight. Ran never
give the other fellers any chance to
make it a fight. Jes’ hid behind a
tree an’ give it to ’em as they come
“Has Ran been arrested?”
“No. What’s the use? Some o’
the Jeffords people come along, burn
ed down Ran’s house, shot him an’
his wife, an set fire to his barn. No,
Ran ain’t been arrested. But I ain’t
got time to stand heah talkin’ to you.
Got to git back to my harvestin’.
But there ain’t any news down our
way. Ef anything happens I’ll let
you know.”
Belle—“I wish the Lord had made
: me a man.” Nellie—" Perhaps He
has, only yon haven’t found him yet.”
There are families who reserve all
their unpleasantness for meal hours ;
they think it a convenient occasion to
discuss things that have gone awry,
to thrash out grievances, to dwell on
disagreeable or gloomy subjects. If
they but knew it they are courting
dyspepsia more surely than if they
indulged in mince pie or terrapin.
Haven’t you gone to the table rav
enous with hunger and find your ap
petite leave you in the face of a fami
ly quarrel ? Who has not felt their
food heavy after a meal hour of ruc
tions? Yet how few blame it on its
real cause, which is the interruption
of digestion by mental agitation.
The meal hour should be the pleas
antest hour in the day. It should be
looked forward to rather than dread
ed ; and it will be if parents insist on
each one being agreeable. Contribute
to the family good cheer and dyspep
sia will vanish.
To one household where meals had
been constant turmoil, where food,
health or the latest worry were the
sole conversational efforts, came a
woman with wholesome views on ta
ble cheer.
She directed the talk into agreeable
channels, she exerted herself to be
entertaining, until the captious family
followed her lead. Finally they
agreed on a fine for every unpleasant
subject broached at meals.
Not only did the manners ot that
family improve, but also the general
health. The children from being
easily sickened by their food, and
constantly doctored for weak diges
tions, could eat anything with im
Cheer during meals will do away
with the need of digestive tablets.
Make it a rule to come to the table
smiling, and continue to smile though
the food does not snit you and every
one else is down on her luck. Your
smile will prove contagious.
Good manners are desirable, but
not so desirable as good health. If
your child can only learn to eat well
through constant nagging at meal
time, better let it slip up in its table
manners. Many children refuse to
eat at table because their hunger is
driven away by reproof.
A mother once complained to her
doctor that her small son bad no ap
petite ; no matter how tempting the
food, he could not eat it, though he
seemed hungry between meals. The
physician asked to be invited to lunch,
which the child ate with the family.
At the close of the meal he said:
“It is not your boy’s digestion that is
at fault, but his mother. Let that
boy’s manners alone. Stop your in
cessant, ‘Willie, your elbows,’ ‘do
not smack your lips.’ If yon think
he will not shine as a gentleman with
out such coaching take fifteen min
utes midway between meals for les
sons in table breeding, but stop your
nagging while he eats if you would
not have a chronic dyspeptic.”
Watch your table talk, keep it
pleasant at any cost, learn to digest
your food with laughter and fight
dyspepsia with cheerfulness, and not
only will your home life be happier,
but you will forget the weak stomach.
“It happened,” said the colonel,
“that there were two colored preach
ers inhabiting cells in the penitentia
ry at Frankfort at the same time. If
I remember aright, both were sen
tenced for polygamy, but old Sam was
a Methodist parson while old Jake
was of the Baptist faith. It seems
that Sam had done something to great
ly offend the warden, and the punish
ment decided on was an old-fashioned
lashing. Some weeks after the affair
came off the Rev. Sam, whom I had
known from boyhood, was telling me
about it.
“‘I didn’t mind de whippin’ so
much, Mars Jack, ef it hadn’t been
for de way old Jake acted. You see,
de warden he said to me: ‘Sam, I’s
gwine to whip you and ’low de whip
pin’ will do you a whole heap uv good.
I’s gwine to let old Jake pray fer you,
and de blows will continue to fall on
your black hide while Jake’s pra’r is
a-goin’ on. When he comes to a final
stop den de punishment will likewise
“ ‘Land sakes, Mars Jack, Iknowed
it was all up wid me den, for dat ig
norant old nigger never did know
when it was time to get up off’n his
knees ! De fac’ data po‘ human
bein’ was in distress wasn’t gwine to
make a bit uv difference wid him.
Well, sir, it was jes’ like I ’suspected
it’d be. Dey brought me out, and
old Jake, de old villun, started in,
and as fast as he prayed de warden
come down on me wid a whip dat cut
like a knife. I never did want to hear
a pra’r come to an end so bad in my
life, but it weren’t any use. Every
time I thought he was mos’ through
old Jake took a fresh hold, and down
come de licks harder’n ever. Shore
ly it seemed to me like he prayed a
month, and, Mars Jack, I wants to
tell you right now dat I am sot
against long pra’rs for de rest uv my
life.’ ” - Washington Post.
A school teacher was endeavoring
to convey the idea of pity to the mem
bers of his class. “Now, supposing,”
he said, “a man working on the riv
er bank suddenly fell in. He could
not swim and would be in danger of
drowning. Picture the scene, boys
and girls. The man’s sudden tall,
the cry for help. His wife knowing
his peril and hearing his screams,
rushes immediately to the bank. Why
does she rush to the bank?”
After a pause, a small voice piped
“Please, sir, to draw his insurance
Mrs. Muggins— l hear your hus
band is speculating in stocks. Is he
a boll or a bear? Mrs. Buggins —
Judging from results I should think
he was a jackass.
Husband— “ You never kiss me
except when you want some money. ’ ’
Wife-” Well, isn’t that often enough?’ ’
The inevitable law of whatsoever a
man sows, that roust be reap in har
vest, is equally true in the physical
The farmer sows wheat and always
gets wheat in return. Nature never
changes or reverses her laws. If the
farmer fails to plow or cultivate his
land in the spring time, and sow his
seed early, he will have no wheat in
harvest, and weeds will grow instead,
and sap its fertility.
If a young man fails to sow the
good seed in the morning of his days,
to early in life cultivate his mind,
and store it with valuable and useful
information, he will also fail of reap
ing the reward that he hopes to ob
tain eventually. If the golden oppor
tunities are suffered to pass unheeded,
the golden harvest time will never
come. You cannot be idle for years
and keep your mind fresh and vigor
ous, and as quick and sharp to learn
and retain what is learned. The har
dening process cannot be overcome.
You suffer a loss that cannot be made
good, however hard you may try.
The farmer sows the grain in early
spring, that he may reap in autumn.
He has to wait for the seed to ger
minate and pass through all the va
ried processes until it is matured
grain. He does not plow it up in a
week or a month, because it has not
matured. He has to patiently wait
for the full maturity of the ripened
One of the greatest mistakes young
men are liable to make is unwilling
ness to wait for the harvest. Because
their labor, their sowing, does not
bear fruit immediately, throw up the
scheme to try something else, which
in its turn is abandoned. They are
continually changing, and the oftener
they change the more unsettled be
come their minds and the greater
difficulty to buckle dowd to one thing
and stick to it. They desire immedi
ate returns for their investments, and
because they cannot get it, they sell
out at a sacrifice and go into some
thing else. It is not altogether in
knowing what is the best thing to do,
so much as there is sticking to it to the
end. It has been well said that if
any young man would go into any
legitimate business and stick to it for
ten years, he would become independ
ent. It requires courage, patience
and nerve.
The very first step a young man
takes for himself is the most important
one of all. If he would be right all
the time, he must start right. The
first thing a builder does when pre
paring to erect a good substantial
building is to lay the foundation, deep,
broad and on a solid footing. If he
fails to do this he will repent of his
folly when it is too late. A few
years ago a granite block was built in
Boston some eight or nine stories high,
and when it was completed, it was
considered one of the best blocks in
the city. Its substantial character to
all appearance made it as lasting as
the granite of which it was built.
Tenants to occupy it were numerous.
The builder had the utmost faith in
it. They could “pile it full of pig
lead.” But, alas, before it was half
stocked with goods, it went down,
filling the street with stone, bricks,
broken timbers and bales of goods;
and several persons were killed who
had no time to escape. Why did it
fall ? Down in the cellar was a few
feet of an old wall, and to save a few
dollars it was left, and when the enor
mous weight of the strructure began
to bear down upon it, it could not
stand the pressure, and the entire
block fell in ruins. A hundred or
two hundred dollars worth of work
saved in the foundation was over a
hundred thousand dollars loss in the
end, and that was but a trifle in com
parison with the lives sacrificed,
which no money could repay.
Once before be was President An
drew Jackson was making a political
speech in some obscure campaign in
a backwoods Tennessee district, says
the St. Paul Pioneer Press. His ad
dress was very well received, but
somehow there did not seem to be ex
actly the enthusiasm wanted for the
occasion. Having vainly tried to
‘‘warm up” his hearers, the General
was just going to sit down when the
chairman of the meeting plucked him
by the coat tail:
"For the Lord’s sake, General,
give ’em some Latin !” he hurriedly
whispered in the speaker’s ear.
‘‘They won’t think you know any
thing at all if you quit like this.
Smith, the opposition candidate, talk
ed Latin to ’em half the evening.”
Old Hickory rose to the situation.
Advancing to the edge of the plat
form, he extended his arm and thun
dered out “ E pluribus unurn ! Sic
semper tyrannis! Habeas corpus!"
The audience roared with applause.
The credit of the orator was saved,
and the Jackson ticket won out in
that county.
Little Johnnie, who had been pray
ing for some months for God to send
him a baby brother, finally became
discouraged. “I don’t believe God
has any more little boys to send,” he
told his mother, “and I’m going to
quit it.”
Early one morning not long after
this he was taken into his mother’s
room to see twin boys who had ar
rived in the night. Johnnie regarded
them thoughtfully for some minutes.
“Gee,” he remarked finally, “it’s
a good thing I stopped praying when
1 did ‘” _______
“You ran into this man at 30 miles
, an hour and knocked him 40 feet,”
said the Court.
“ That, or a little better, I suppose, ’ ’
- answered the chauffeur.
• "Why didn’t you slow down?”
“Mere precaution, your Honor.
Once I shut off speed and hit a man so
gently that he was able to climb into
the machine and give me a licking.”
’ No man knows the weight of an
’ other man’s burden.
Nearly thirty eight yearsago Mark
Hanna was just starting on his busi
ness career as a grocer in Cleveland,
O. He was poor, plodding, and, to
the casual observer, a very every-day
sort of young man. Daniel Rhodes
was one of the rich coal owners of the
state. He had one daughter, Gussie,
the very idol of his soul. Gussie
Rhodes met and loved the obscure,
poor, young man, Mark Hanna. Mr.
Rhodes was astonished when the dar
ing young grocer called upon him and
asked for the hand of his daughter.
He refused absolutely to grant the
young suitor even time enough to
beg. He said “No!” curtly and
sharply, and when he saw his daugh
ter he tried to scold her, but instead
be took her in his honest arms and
begged her not to think of “this un
known man, Hanna.” He said he
never, never could consent to such a
choice tor his child.
Gussie Rhodes told her father, with
many a reassuring embrace, that she
would never marry without his con
sent, and she added, “But, papa dear,
I shall never marry any man but
Mark Hanna.” Then she promised
her father not to see her lover or to
write to him for a year at least. A
foreign tour was taken for that change
of scene which is supposed to work
wonders in heart affections.
For nearly a year the “change of
scene” prescription was faithfully
pursued, and the patient, always
cheerfully, submissive, gentle, and
charming, obviously grew frailer day
by day. Almost in despair the old
man brought his child home again,
and one morning he gathered the
courage to ask her if she still cared
for Mark Hanna.
“Why, father,” she replied, “I
shall always love Mark. I told you
that, you know, a year ago.”
Poor old “Uncle Dan” Rhodes !
Sending for the obscure young man,
he said to him : “Mr. Hanna, Gus
sie loves you; that is my only reason
for accepting you as her future hus
band. You are poor. I’ll fix it so
Gussie can live as she has been accus
tomed to, and I suppose I must see
you marry her.”
Now the coming young man cast
ever so slight a shadow of his future
greatness on the opportunity of the
“Mr. Rhodes,” said he, “I most
gratefully accept the gift of your
daughter’s love, but I cannot make
her my wife unless she will be content
to live as my means will enable us.
I can neither accept aid nor permit
my wife to accept it from anyone.”
So Mark Hanna and Gussie Rhodes
were married and the bride went
from her father’s big house to live in
a tiny cottage, where, with one maid
of all work, she was as happy as a
The mother who wishes her boy or
girl to be a pink of propriety, who
rates good clothes and repressed man
ners above healhful, romping and
natural noisiness of childhood, is lay
ing up for herself disappointment.
Either her children fall short of her
foolish ideal, or meeting it she learns
too late she has reared Miss Nancies
and invalids. An old doctor who
lived next to a big primary school
was asked if the noise and romping of
the children at recess did not annoy
him. “Not half soannoying, madam,
as if they were a set of silent little
sprigs, for I’d know that the parents
of those children would be bothering
me with their ailments. Youth needs
to romp to keep well.” There is an
old sayinig, “It is better to wear
clothes than blankets.” If you do
not hanker after nursing let your boy
and girl rough-house to their heart’s
What if it does tear their clothes to
wrestle, to roll down hill or jump on
the strawstack ? Bodies cost more to
repair than frocks, and doctor’s bills
come higher than worn-out shoes and
stockings. What if rough housing
is hard on the nerves of older people ?
It is excellent to prevent nerves in
the kiddies themselves. Less re
straint of children at home is needed
more than most mothers will believe.
The old cat can teach a lesson to
many a human parent when she lim
bers herself to play with her kittens’
There are occasional doubts in the
minds of the elders of the Morse fam
ily as to the quickness of Bobby’s
wits, but there has never been any
doubt that a lesson once learned by
him, however slowly, is forever after
remembered. “Won’t you shake
hands with me, Bobby?” asked one
of his sister’s admirers, but Bobby
hung back.
“I don’t care to,” he said, with
terrible distinctiveness.
“Don’t you like me?” asked the
unwise visitor.
“No, I don’t,” replied Bobby, and
then there was a shocked chorus from
the family.
“Bobby,” said the aunt, reproach
fully, as she withdrew him from the
public gaze, “why did you say such
a rude thing to Mr. Brown?”
“Because, aunty,” said her wrig
gling charge, “I got spanked last
week for not telling the truth, and
i I shan’t never take any risks again !”
Youth's Companion.
An Ohio lawyer tells of a client of
, bis—a German farmer, a hard-work*
| ing, plain, blunt man, who lost his
wife not long ago. The lawyer had
sought him out to express his sympa-
thy; but to his consternation the
' Teuton laconically observed :
“But I am again married.”
’ “You don’t tell me!” exclaimed
the legal light. “Why, it has been
but a week or two since you buried
. your wife?”
) “Dot’s so, my frent; but she is as
5 dead as effer she will be.”
The gossip doesn’t have to own an
- automobile in order to run down his

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