Newspaper Page Text
JDAXTER SPRINGS NEWS.
M. H. GARDNER, Publisher. UAXTER SPRINGS, KANSAS. VPETER JOHNSON'S MEMORY. ; "Strangest thing I ever see "Bout Poto Johnson's Memory. Used tu never onoe furglt Ji. thing when be hed mastered hit Date an' Aggers, enow an' rains, This man's losses, that man's gains; Who was married sech a day, 'The price each year in corn er hay; 'The petlgree nv hoss er cow, The wich, the wen, the ware, the how In hio mind sech things was stored, 'Tu be bro't out at a word. Never once forgot a face, Fact er Agger, date er pluce: An' he'd talk an' haw, haw, haw, 'Till you'd wonder how his jaw Ever stood it; but hi tongue Seemed to bo on swivel hung. Uited tu like tcr hear his clack, An' see him slap folks on the back. War, tho' Pete's a young man ylt, He's bvglnnln' tu furglt; He can't oall hi friend tu mind, An' bis tongue somehow can't find. He's so durncd close-mouthed an glum, Tbet be might as well be dumb; Hate tu sec a man so still. An' talk as tho' agin his will Met Pete 'bout a week ago. An', I swan, he didn't know Who I was. Says I to him : "Don't know me? Don't know 'olo JimP . -Then ho said: "Jim, how air yew? How's yer wife an' children dewt" But he acted mighty queer Tu the way he did las' year. TV i W'cn be come a-beggin' me Fur tu lend him "jest a V." He then lived on Hemlock Hill, An' worked, tho' much agin hi will At raisin' taters, corn an' be ns, His Sunday suit a suit uv Joans. But now thet bis Uncle Bile Has died an' left him a big pllo, An' he lives in Shoddytown In a great big house uv brown, With a door bell an' a lawn, Peter's marv'lous mem'ry's gone, An' bo can't quite call tu mind His ole friend, both true an' kind. Ylt Pete Johnson used to be A man of first-class memory. Thomas Burke, in Detroit Free Press. DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. .Mr. Keane Meets with a Obliging Gentleman. Very . 4 R. GREEN WELL KEANE is a very sharp person indeed, and when his intimate friends drop the Keano and speak of him as "Greeny" they mean no disrespect for h i s abilities. They under stand iha tltlrt 2s on strictly lucus ? a non lucendo -principles, and Mr. Keane does not object to it, as it enhances the ad ran tages which he pains from his boyish .find guileless appearance. Many a plant" to use his expression, had been futilely tried on him by various members of the "sharp division" at home and abroad, and often the experi ment or has seen himself hoist with his own petard. He did very well over the Derby this year, and better still over the Oaks not to mention a minor race on Derby day, in which his particular friend, Dick Netherthong, owned the winner. He was standing with Mr. iKetherthonjr after that race, watching the winner being rubbed down, by the hod at the bottom of the paddock, when Jhe heard a loud sneeze just behind him. "There must have been plenty of sneezes to bo heard on Epsom downs last Derby day; ' but this was a very loud one, and that mare of Netherthong's is such a fid jgety brute that, . even with a race in iber, she upset the man who was putting !her clothes on, while her owner and Mr. Green well Keane had to stop cal culatlng their winnings and jump on one jside to avoid a kick. Mr. Keane swore at the gentleman who had snoozed and was now standing, blowing his nose vo ciferously, a few yards off. He turnod ' round with a polite and cheery apology, laving evidently no very definite idea of why be was being cursed, and walked away. The horses had gone down for 'the next race, and the paddock was practically empty. "Beggar's dropped bis purse," said Dick Netherthrong. "Dash him! let it lie!" said Keane; -then like a good-natured fellow as he -really is, he ran after the stranger, and -with a "Here, sir! you let this fail when .you took out your handkerchief," thrust the fat leather pocket-book into his land. "Good heavens!" said the man; "I am exceedingly obliged," and he opened the -pocket-book and began fumbling in it "You are quite welcome,1" said Greeny" a little stiffly. He had gone down in a covert coat and pot hat, and he looked like a cross between a groom . and a drowned rat; but he did mot like it to be thought he wanted a reward. The stranger apologised for his mis--take, bowed and walked rapidly away. "Wanted to -give me a fiver for ay trouble," said Keane to Netherthreng. "Why the deuce did not you take ItT answered his friend. A few mlnates later they were having a drink to gether to keep the wet out, when Mr. Keane was touched upon the shoulder, and turning around he -saw that the man with the pocket-book was there. "Excuse me, gontleaien," he said: "one of you did me a very great service Just now, .and I insist on your having a drink with xue. .1 .will .take n refusal." "We were not going to refuse," mur mured Aiotnertnrong, in bis dry way; and then the cork popped, and a bottle of champagne was sailed for by the strangor who, by the way, was a burly. choery-looking man with a dark beard and bright gray eye. "There was more in that pocket-book than I thought," he said presently to Keane; 'and though I was wrong to think of offering you money, I should still like to make you some return. "Aiy uear sir, i nave drunk your health, said Keane, laughing, "and want no better return." "I hope you have had a good day." "I have bad an excellent day, se far. "Well, I can't put you on to a good thing in racing, for I've lost on every race; but if you think of spending any part of your winnings on diamonds for your wife, or any ono elso's, that is my line of business and I may be able to help you." .Now, Mr. Keano has a very pretty wife whom he is much attached to; and in answer to something in his eyes the stranger went on: "Here is my card, with my private address ISO llalfmoon street My bus! ness is in Uatton garden; but it you'll drop me a line and look in when you are going to your club I'll let you see anything you want, and a thousand pounds for stones at the price they cost me will be better spont than the same amount at a Bond street jeweler's. buy wholesale and in the rough chiefly; but 1 keep a lot cut and mounted as well, as specimens." "Good business, I hope; do you want a partner?" said Mr. Keane, always on the lookout for a chance. "Well, I don't know," said Mr. Olod stane that was the name on the card. "It is a goodlsh business, though; the retailers make big profits. You look at a necklace with five pendants in Onyx & Shine's window now; it's marked three thousand guineas. I bought it for fourteen hundred pounds in the winter and sold it to them last week for two thousand." "Phew!" said Mr. Greenwell Keano, you don't say so!" "My dear sir, if you will look in on Sunday I will show you the fac-simile of it." "What price would it be?" Mr. Keane was very fond of bis wife, besides being a cool-headed young man with an eye to business. His business eye being upon the man he was talking to, he noticed a slight change of expression and a downward look in his eyes, as if he did not alto gotber relish being taken so quickly at bis word. Ihe polite smile, however, returned as Mr. Gledstane answered: "You do business promptly just the thing for our trade. I did not mean to part with those stones so soon, as they are going up; but sixteen hundred pounds will give me interest on what 1 spent, and you will get them under their fair cost price. But don't be in too mucn oi a nurry; come and see them and bring your wifo. Your card? Thank you; I will fix a day." "None of your close-handed sharps. that," reflected Mr. Greene as the train bore him to Victoria. "Perhaps I'd bet ter not say any thing to old Nothor thong, or he will be getting the poor beggar round to baccarat before I have the diamonds. I wonder if he does play baccarat?" Mr. Keane is as kind a young hus band as you would wish to see. He bought his wife a now umbrella at Brlgg's and paid her bill at her bonnet shop on his way home, so she had reason to be pleased with his having ' ion necklace la Onyx A. s,h f ' wlnBd .ad the stone which f. ,ttero4 tha table before him looked '"''"m "I've brought the none. T no drawing a bundle of note, ? pocket Mr. Gledstane lay I 'c,t in B" chair and langhed. "I must k , as a partner," be said. "I real ou"" Punctuality is the soul of buslaei u.: DUt ready money is the body of it, an. 'ou keep body and soul together with a ven" geance. Mr. Keane had a slight misgiving la he should have offended the cheery dia mond morchant by his haste; so he asked him to dinner an invitation which was readily accepted. "I see you know Lady Berrlngton," he said, as he took his leave, looking at a photograph which hung on the wall "She is a connection of mine," said the other, following the direction of his eyes. toniouna you, uroenyi" saia luck Netherthong, when he got back to the club, "we'vo been waiting for you for a rubber. Where did you snoak off to?" "I've been round to ask a man to din ner and a rubber on Thursday a dia mond merchant who reads poetry. I HUNTING MUSKRATa " km Important Industry of ' t ' FUlilng )lay (Bid.) District. A visit to a muskratting village, aa the scattering cabins of the trappers along tho border of Fishing bav, Mary land, are called, will be. a revelation to the stranger. The cabins are rude, and have barely a habitable appearance. The occupants are squatters, and the materials of which their cabins are built have been appropriated from the nearest tract of timber land. The trap pers and their families are a wild and tottered race of beings, but hardy and ood natured. One peculiarity of a tskratting village is the large num. ft m ber cabin munit) that swi or children that belong to each Aaomer ieature ox the oom is a species of razor-back hog lls the population with its pros- 1 - . m a . . - i r I'll it it) m- m jswi mm - . mm- m. 'I've Bit ought the moxet," be said. aon t suppose ne piays much or a game of whist; but one can always teach a man some card game." "One can, indeed; but why the deuce did not you write to him?" 'Ho lives close by, at 150 Halfmoon street, and I wanted to see him," said Mr. Greenwell Keane. "One hundrod and fifty! Not young Harrington back again? Ho told me he had let his rooms for the season." "To a relation the man I went to see." "Not to a relation at alL To a dashed rascal he picked up at Monte Carlo and dropped a lot to at piquet a dead sharp, I fancy. I told him be was an ass to do so, and he said he could not help it letting the rooms, I mean, not being an ass. Ho could help that well enough He was one of the cleverest boys at narrow they've had for years, though he never worked." "The man I went to see was the man whose purse I picked up in the paddock at Epsom. He sold me these," and Mr.' Keane pulled tho case of jewels with some difficulty out of bis coat-tail pocket ilia you ever near of ring-dropping, Greeny?" said a man standing by. "Or the, threo broads?" said another. "Shut up," said Keane. "I'll take them to Streetor's to-morrow and get them valued. Look how they sparkle! I'll bet they're as good as they make them." "In Paris?" asked Netherthong. "So this was a deal you were doing on the sly, Master. Greeny. Well, I wish you joy of it" In spite of their chaff Mr. Keane slept the Bleep of the just that night- more soundly than he did on the fol lowing night, after an interview with the manager of Streeter's and another with a dark man with a smile at Scot land Yard. But he did not sleep more soundly than his wife, who has never beard any thing about it; or than the clean shaven man who traveled in a first- class carriage to Liverpool the man whose bright gray eyes and pleasant manners are making him as popular on the Patagonia with the lady passengers en route for New York as his skill at poker renders him the terror and de light of the smoklng-saloon. St James' Gazette. HE WAS BTAXDINO WITH THOXO. MR. Ji'EVF.It- had a good day; but be said nothing about a diamond necklace worth 8,000 pounds. Perhaps her thanks for the umbrella put it out of his head; perhaps he was afraid the stones might after all, not be good enough for her to wear. Three or four evenings ago Mr. Keane found a note at his club, and strolled round to Halfmoon street He was shown into a set of chambers furnished In excellent taste; his new friend rising to welcome him from a deep arm-chair, in which he appeared to have been sip ping coffee and smoking over a volume of Browning a poetry; It was a hand somely-bound book with a coat-of-arms outside. "One of my old school prizes," aald ' Mr. Gledstane; "do you read poetry?" Mr. Keano did not "Where were you at school?" he asked. "Harrow," said the other, with a rev erent glance at the coat-of-arms. There were a good many books in the room, but books were not In Mr. Keane's lino. He tried to load op conversation to the dlamondasnd at last came straight to the point "You keep a man to his bargain," said Mr. Gledstane; "here they are." Charlie Keane had seen the compan- An Easy Way to Clean 8hos. It is not generally known that the easiest way to clean shoes or rubber overshoes which have become muddy is with vaseline. A little "swab" of flan nel on the end of a stick is good for this purpose. Even if the vaseline touches the hands. It forms a coating over them so that tho task is not so unpleasant as it otherwise would be. Such a dressing this is sufficient for some fine kid shoes, but others may need a coat of polish. If the polish is put on after a coat of vaseline, it is not liable to crack the leather and it lasts much longer. Rubber overshoes, especially, look much better and last much longer if cleaned in this way than if they are washed with water. N. Y. Tribune. Its Averag Vain, "We, the jury," thus ran the verdict. "find for the plaintiff and assess the damages at four and three-twelfths cents." "Is that all a broken heart is worthy" bitterly exclaimed the mature com plainant in the breacb-of-promlse case. 'That's what we averaged it at mum," exclaimed, tne xoreman or tue jury. "Some on us held out fur ten cents, but we hed to come down." Chi cago Tribune. ence. Ti. (i" nondescript member of the porcine fav 11 UJ hM an Important mis- . 'nntl In tlrna. ..til. ion to per. "oo" wtuiwniH, and be perfo. rm 14 wlth H1 It is the making aw AT witn tne hundreds of surplus muskrat . crcases that accumu late, altboueh thi ' fl08h. of muskrat forms an important rticle of food with the trapper and bis fa ni,1J As for that, however, eaters of musk'rtnjeat are not confined to' the. trapplv villages of Fishing bay, for it is lonsldorsd a great delicacy by many an epical in' that land of terrapin and canves backs. A remarkable thing about tho razor' back bogs of the muskrat region la that. although they devour untold pounds of muskrat meat every day, they never show the richness of their keeping by adding a single pound of flesh to their cadaverous bodies. The muskrat builds its house so that. while it has a couple of stories high and dry on the ground, the entrance to it is always under water. This entrance is a long tunnel running from a point a foot or more beneath the water at low- tide line to .the ground floor of the house, which is always flooded. The musk-rat's reason for having this sub terranean entrance, to his dwelling place is that thereby be has an exit or an entrance in time of danger that will not betray him to his enemies, either in his flight from home, or in seeking refuge within its walla - But his in stinct does not warn him against the trap his most cunning and . persistent enemy places at this hidden entrance to his home, changing it from a way to safety into an avenue to certain death. This trap is a wooden box, three feet long and six inches in width and depth. In each end is a wire-door, hung on hinges at the top. .These doors rise at the slightest push on the out side, but will not open from the inside. The trap is sunk in the water to the mouth of the muskrat's tunnel and anchored thore, and whether the musk- rate is going out of his house or return' ing to it, he is sure to walk into the trap. If he had time, the captive rodent could gnaw his way qut of tho box, but before he can free himself he will drown.. A whole family of musk rata may be taken in a single night in one of these traps, and every trapper has out as many traps as he can attend t There are other ways by which the muskrat is pursued In the daytime the hunters steal over the marshes and jab long-handled spears with sharp barbed tines down through the roofs of the muskrat houses. Sometimes a spear will impale half a dozen rats as they lie cuddled together in their cosy nests. Hunters with guns skirt the marshes at night looking for muskrats with the aid of jack lamps, but that method of bunt ing la followed more to indulge the sporting Inclination of the hunter than to reap profit Times of extraordinary tides on the marshes are times always welcomed by the muskrat tor, for the rats aro then forced from their houses, in spite of the lnlallible instinct they are alleged to possess in foreseeing such calamitous happenings and guarding against them by building their houses higher. They are com poled to flee to the open country and seek places of safety, which they rarely find, for the trappers and hunters have no difficulty in locating them, and so they are given over to a wholesale slaughter. Clothier and Furnisher. . J19ME , hints. Afjp rWa -Coffeake should be wrapped, ia a napkin while warm t&3 Van HUtU tillQUt . .' ' ; -Many women go upUIrs with tbjt body bent forward and the chest eon tracted a practice very Injurious to the heart and lungs. ; S Paper or pasteboaad may be ren dered waterproof aa follows: Mix four parts of slaked lime with three parts of skimmed milk nd add a little alum; then give the material two IQCcess'iva-' coatings of the mixture with a brush, and let it dry. Bajothoreq Be6f. Have chormttA nne one pounrl or lean beet put a table, poonful of butter in yemr chafing disB7 when hot put in the beef, and stir con stantly for about two minutes, (Inst with salt and pepper and serve at once. This, if prepared nicely and aervei very hot, is both delicious and whole tome. Boston Budget ' Lemon Puddinm Grata twn 1.HMII1 beat the yelks of six eggs with two cup fuls of granulated snirar and half cupful of butter and one teaspoon fnl of sweet cream; line a pudding dish with stole cake; pour in the mixture and bake about twenty minutes; cover tho top with a meringue, and place in the oven to brown delicately. Boston Herald. 1 . Potato and Onion Soup: Take three medium-sized . potatoes, three email onlona one-half cupful of rice. Slice potatoes and onions and putwfth th riw lato three plat of water; cook thor oughly, poor through a colander; add salt and pepper, let scald and lift into tureen containing small lump f batter and a few cracker broken in tw Housekeeper. Old-Fashioned Gingerbread: Onr cupful of molassea, three tablespoonf uls of melted butter, ono teaspoonful or soda, dissolved la five tablespoonf uls of hot water, giager, salt aad half a tea spoonful of powdered aluai; two and a half cupfuls of sifted floor: pour in to- well-buttered iron pans about half an inch thick, and bake in a Quick oven. Indianapolis Sentinel. Apple Bread: Pare and stew one pound of sour, juicy apples, wash, pass through a sieve, and sweeten to taste. Mix with this a ouart of sifted flour. half a cake of compressed yeast and water sufficient to make a smooth dough; let it rise in a warm place over night, then mold into a long narrow loaf; let it rise again, then bake in a quick oven. Old Homestead. For moths salt is the best extermi nator. The nuns in one of the hos pital convents have tried every thing else without success, and their ex perience is valuable, as they have so much clothing of the sick who m . there, and .strangers, when dying often leave there quantities of clothing, eta They had a , room full of feathers, which were sent there for pillow mak ing, and they were In despair, as they could not exterminate the moths until they were advised to try common salt They sprinkled it around, and in a week or ten days they were altogether rid of the moths. They are never troubled now. ; PRETTY WASH DRESSES. Old Heads and Toons; Hearts. "Now, Samuel," said his doting moth' er, "you are going to see one of the nicest girls to-night that ever came to this town, and I want you to make a good Impression. Now, the way to do that la to show appreciation. As some one says: lie a good listener. JNow, don't you forget it" "I won t mother, answered the duti ful Samuel. At another house, the one to which Samuel's feet were tending, a loving aunt was saying to ber visiting niece Now, if Sam comes don't you rattle on asifyoubadn t any bralna Just you keep quiet and let him do the talking. He'll like you all the better for it" To this day those match-making wom en can t understand why tbose two young folks despise each other. Puck. A friend of Mr. Charles Dudley Warner recently asked the author to write his autograph in a copy of My Summer in a Garden. Mr. Warner com plied, adding this "sentiment:" "If you follow the precepts of this treatise on morals, yon may be a gardener, but you may go to Heaven." Lucius Domittus Nero, Christopher Columbus, Nicholas Copernicus, 'Will iam Shakespeare. Emanuel Swedenborg, Napoleon Bonaparte and James Abram Garfield. These seven men, each with an eighteen-lettor name, are the best- known characters in history. Sensible Gowns for Misses and Girls Hoth at Home and Abroad. The best style of bodice for washing dresses now Is the blouse with embroid ered yoke v plastron or pelerine collar, and the crossed bodice with habit shirt stomacher and deep-worked cuffs.. There are very pretty blouses partly tucked. partly plaited and crossed over on one side. The skirts are made up exactly in the same way as those of woolen and other fabrics. When the blouse or bodice is trjmtned with embroidery the skirt may have narrow panels on each side to answer. Sometimes the skirt is made with a straight plaited front and two or three broad plaits at the aide. with a band of embroidery laid on each, which has a good effect The most fashionable styles for chil dren's dresses are copies, modified in deed in some degree, of those worn by their elders. The bodices are either shaped like loose blouses, or are short- walsted and sewn to the skirt, which ia never draped, but mounted with plaits and gatcers. A dress which is both pretty and useful is cut of two pieces of stuff merely mounted on the embroid ered yoke. . Scarcely a dress for girls -is seen now without a ribbon-sash and bows, and the couelet bands coming from beneath the arms are most becom ing to -their slim, uniformed figures. Better dressos for girls of six years and upward are made of plain and shot pop lins, flowered popellnettea, and monase llnes delaine, light woolen beiges em broidered with spots and small patterns and a number of other plain and figured fabrics in silk, wool and cotton. A favorite trimming still continues to be guipure passementerie, aad it is naed like applique embroidery to trim the whole of the front breadth, which is then left almost plain but laid in close plaito at the sides and back. The fronts of the bodice have a stripe of the passe menterie on each aide, and when guaged at the neck to imitate a yoke are crossed over with the long points ot the trim ming. . . . ; Indoor cambrio frocks for very little children are made with a frilled or plaited berths of fine embroidery going round the shoulder, and bordsriag a guaffing or plaited chemisette. ,ThLs kind of trimming Is often bsoJ for h!;h necked frocks to he worn out-of-doors la very hot weatLer instead cf casibria pelisses. Chic jo Times.'