Washington standard. [volume], January 02, 1880, Image 4

About Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921

Image provided by: Washington State Library; Olympia, WA

                
The Island Queen.
On in inland in ttir ocean
Tint diips Lut at Mi ni mar,
Ou a rock aritliout a motion,
Willi >ut a aiph or ttai,
She looked o'er tlie Ingbftil cre.t.
As at acme far-cfl: tcene:
Tbe Mona Lisa of tlie Went,
The Ocean Island Qneeti.
The (ailing sunbeams kisa bcr face,
Tbe proudest naves her feet,
And man himself could in her trace
EaCl, loflv grace complelt,
|/P*caby thfjpramlenr «i sac!, c irvp, •
And by tl<« space between,
That beauty's highest art must serve,
* The Ocean Island Queen.
ilut nliat is this tue winds adoie .
An auge! made a atone,
That back to bliss it could not soar.
And then froat-t»aTen thrown V
l'erbape some kingdom in tbe sea,
To mortals jet uuseeu.
Has sent its fairist nymph to be
The Ocean liUu.'l Queen.
But ulietter of aDgr'lic tiirtli,
Or of some rural liue.
Or only just a cbtbl of eartb
TL'c image is diviutj
t And nympbs and fat aof highest place.
Envy the lofty mein;
Of this, tlie heiress of oacb Orace,
The orcau Island Queen.
—Dox.thO It. Me TltEooß
Elsie.
Cetbunly tkere-js na teucuer like ox
perirow, though the-lessons that Bhe
teaches us are often very bitter ones.
" You will pgver !earu caution, my
bov) till you 60 yourself or some one
also a mischief/' Mr. Foster had saiil
to his son .Norman a hundred times. I
Norman wus always doing some
■wild thing—climbing some
of the highest trees iu the garden at
thflTiskof breaking his neck; wading
in the river beyond his depth; riding
bare-backed on his father's horso;
playing witlvthe fierce old watch dog
that snarled and showed his teeth at
every one who tried to caress him. i
Norman had no broihers, bat he had
a little sister named Elsie, three years
younger than himself, of whom be was
very lond. There was nothing that he
liked better than to have Elsie, as he
. called it, " all to himself," and though
he was so wild and willful when he
played alone, or with other boys, yet
it was pretty to see how gentle and
kind he could be when Elsie was his
playmate, and how lie would give up
his own wisli6s to do the things she'
asked him, and would never speak a
rough or impatient word to her.
•J I' Norman {s alwajSf good f hen hp is
•with Elfcite," his'mother often used
gladly to say; uud she only spoke the
trnth; and yet it was Elsie whom Nor
mau hurt 011 that sad day of which 1
am going to tell you, when indualMkl
play he did a thing that lie never after
wards forgot, or forgave himself for as
long as he lived. - . - j ;
The two children had been sitting
one morning with their mother in the
dining-room, talking, and looking at'
picture-books very happily, till, after
a good while had passed, one of the
servants came to the door, and told her
mistress that somebody wanted her.
" Then I must send you qp stairs,
my little Elsie," Mrs. Foster s»id.
Hut at that moment Norman ex
claimed,'" Ob no, let us stop here. I'll
take oare of Elsie."
And he had taken good care of Elsie
so often that his mother almost at 6nce
replied, " Very well. Amuse her, and
be kind to her, and I dure say I shall
be back very soon." And rising
she went* way without the least anxiety,
and'lelt'the tWo children alone.
They W6re nearly always happy when
they were together, and so they began
to play, and for a little while every
thing went perfectly well.
They played at being horses lirst, and
Norman let Elsie whip him to hor
heart's content; then they played at
being bears, and that game went quite
harmoniously, too; and then Norman
said he would be a soldier, and as Elsie
was always very muob delighted when
Norman made himself a soldier, she
sat on the floor and laughed and
clapped her hands with pleasure, as he
marched up and down ,the room, with
,the poker held like r a gnu against his
shoulder. •
" Only it doesn't make a good gun;
it's not long enough; I'll get father's
real gun,"' lie said, presently. " I
know where it is. Just you stay here a
minute till I fetch it."
And he ran out of the room, and re
turned almost immediately with along
revolver, which he trailed after him on
the lloor.
"Oh, Norman, it will shoot me,"
cried Elsie, rather territled at the
sigiit.
But Norman explained to her, with
such an appearance of knowing all
abont what he was saying, that guns
pevejr went off.by themselves, and that,
indeed, it needed very strong hands to
make them go off at all, that Elsie,
who always believed whatever Norman
told her, and who, besides, was not
natnraily a timid child, soon forgot her
fear, and laughed and clapped her
hands louder than ever as he begun to
strut up and down the room again,
leveling his revolver and pretending
to tire at one enemy after another.
"Shoot! Bang!" cried Norman at
the top of his voice. " Shoot 1 Bung !
There's another down. Now I'm com
ing to you. Shoot!"
But there his voice all at once
ceased, for as he shouted that last
won), pointing the muzzle of his gun
at Elsie, suddenly a terrible explosion
Bhook the room, and, as the ebpek
threw him to the floor, such a cry of
pain and terror rang in his ears as" lie
never before had heard, and ns he never
afterwards all his life forgot.
In a moment he was on his feet
again, with his face as white as death.
Of course, be knew quite well what he
had doogejv ( 1
" Elsie .lie tried ""to ga.q>; hut there
came no ausM. J*idiltak.tng>fisrr >■*
the floor, id a little hebp; quite still,
and with the rail bioad that oozed out
on the carpet already beginning to
stain her pretty goldeu'hair, little Elsie
lay.
l'here »as no need for Norman to go
for help, for everybody had heard the
report of the gun, and in a few seconds |
all the household h»l rushed into the
room, and then then? was a great hub- |
bub of voices, and cries, and laments- j
tioiis, but tbe only words that Xorman
heard was the piteous "My child, my i
child!" that broke in a wild ghrfck
from his mother's lips.
Wan Elsie dead?
They lifted her up softly from the
floor. The blue eyes were shut, and
tlie little face was white except for the
stain* of blood upon it; but Norman
beard her pivo one mrfan, and that!
sound of pain was the first thing that
seemed to bring hie "own life back to
bim.
He had never uttered a-word as they
cauie hurrying into the room. Some
of the servants began 4o question him;
one took bim by the arm and shook
him roughly: but lie neither moved nor
answered.
He only stood by his mother's aidu
( his mother, who iu her anguish never
spoke to bim >, clinging to her gown,
and grasping it tight in both his
hands.
S6b, I with I wa»Hleitd! V XOp®er
if I shall be able to die !" ■
The poor young heart in its misery
was passionately crying to itself.
Jt w>s almost half rfn beftye a
doctor coiild lie got, and when he cgme
they carried Elsie out of Norman's
Bight. ~ ,
Au hour .later, Alio little, biumcwd;
yellow-haired ebml' Iky f -quiet> rfb iter
bed, asleep, with her mother's hanfl in
hers.
And her mother, sitting at tlfo bed
ni,ftp was looking st l|<jr with a lofcff as
if her heart would break. "01i|kiy.
EiSie, whose little feet will never make !
music on tbe floor again,'-,';, she was
murmuring over her through
ter tears. ' ~ ™
For Elsie was not dead, anil did not
die,—but she was lamed for life. The
shot had gone into her right leg a little
l'ulov <the thigh, shattering it tjof fettles,
and the surgeon had had to cut it oft. : j
."It might have killed her; let us
think how much more unhappy we
might Lifvo bossy" Foe»*i| Jlid,
as he held his wife in his arms, gnd
tried to comfort her. "If she lives, I
wo can bear all the rest. Thank God !
Thank God. A - v * ,y «»
The father and AiotlnSr afcne
together in Elsie's room; tuey nad
neither of them yet spoken to or even
seen Xorman.
"Where is'hot' I|r.',FdsJer ssked,
after a long while, and tbe poor mother
almost shuddeted as she answered, — ,
" I don't know! I kuow nothing
about him," she hurriedly said, y*
" Gan you tell nio where Noriaarig-?'' i
he went out presently, and asked one of
the servants.
"Ithiuk he is ip the garden, #ir," j
the woinsu answered; and then Mr. !
Foster went into the garden and called
him. He knew that it was his duty to I
see the hid and talk to him. " Normau,"
tier called loudly, bat it was oifly after
ho had repeated his namo twice that the
unhappy boy Came.
He came, not dariug to look into his
father's face, und the father in silence
put his hand upon his shoulder, and
led him back into the house.
He took him into his study and
closed the door. " I must punish
him, but how cau I punish him ?" he I
was thinking to himself. " I must I
speak to him. hut what cau I say ?" It
seemed so useless, almost like mockery,
to use words of ordinary rebuke to him
-to treat him as if the feeling towards
him iu his heart was ono of common !
nuger., 1 ~
For a few moments ho stood silent, j
with his hand still ou Norman's shoul-'
der; then he tried to begin to speak,
but u knot came into his throat, and j
the words would not come. There only
came instead of them the sound of a
great rising sob.
The boy locked suddenly up in a
great terror and anguish; he had
never in his life before seen bis father
weep.
He looked up almost wildly into the
white and quivering face, his own all
quivering too; and then something all ;
at once swept away from each of them !
all anger and fear, and iu tlieir common
anguish they clasped each other in '
their arms, and on hiß father's 1 reast
the lad wept bis heart away.
We learn by experience indeed; but
how much the happiest are they who
gather wisdom without her sharp and
bitter teaching !
From the day ou which he shot his
little sister, Norman Foster was never
an entirely light-hearted boy agaiu.
How could he be wholly happy auy
more when his reckless play had taken
the light and gladness ont.of that other
little joyous life?
The look of Elsie's shrunken face in
her little bed seemed half to break bis
heart when be saw it flrst; tbo sight of
the two little cratches she was to use,
—well, that took them all dowu, I
think. All of them, at least, except
Elsie herself.
She looked at them with big, round
eyes, and laughed, and said it would
be so fuuny to walk about on those two
sticks. " You walk with them now,
Norman, and let me see," she called,
eagerly, from her bed, where she whs
propped up with pillows. But Nor
man did not do what sheaskr-d him. He
could not, but ran out of tlio room with
a great sob.
She had become, even by that liiae,
the dearest thing in all the world to
him, and she remained dearer to him
than all other people as long as he coa
tiuned to live. This great sweetness
and blessing came out of the injury
that he had done her, that, to make np
to her for what he had robbed her of,
he gave her the devotion of his w hole
life. i
He had been rough and 'willful and
reckless until now, but the thing that
I he had done to hei' changed hip,
through the suffering and remorse it
: brought with it, into another creature.
lie became a perfect knight to this
i fragile little sb*Se-+pat»ut and/gentle,
witK and tender.
She never grew strong ; the shuck
she hud borne hod been too greA fcr
i her ever to rally wholly from it, and.
in her weakness he need to care (or her
and wait upon Ler witli a iove t at
I never tired.
He had almost taken her life away,
and so he gave his own life u| tp her,
and they grew to lovw each other with a
love that was passionate in Its great
ness.
When many years had passed, and
they were left alone, they neither of
them married, but Jived together till
they grew almost old. She was a little
delicate thing, and he was tall and
strong. Ho used, even when she was
quite a woman, to curry her about in
his arms. «
i They eamo tolutve tho same thoughts
tfbtmt" noft things. Tfcey were very
happy, though ho perhaps was a little
graver than other people. But she was
as bright aiways as a bird. . .
" What have I to be sad abottt ?" she
sometimes said to him. " 1 might
have had alt kinds of trouble if I had
been like other women ; but now I Lave
none. You never let mo bear anything ;
you never let me want anything! I lntvle
only to live and enjoy a'uil bo ctntent."
Aud so she did live —all her innocent,
quiet life—hardly ever, seeming to miss
the th ugs that site bM-low, like a
caged bird that does not kn»w tbe
world, and has no longing to spread its
♦logs. 1 n .vj •• ;
'"She was the center of all the world
to mo," Normau Foster said once when
death came at lust and parted them, —
for it was she who went lirst. , Ssho was
everything to me—mother and sister
aud wife aud friend in one,"
lie was uiittkpkjvg of the bjtioijpess
that bad mingled with his! love [or her
once when he spoke so ; he had ceased
perhaps then to dn the htrm he
had once done ber, aud had come only
to remember that they had waited all
through their lives together, like chil
dren, hand in hand.
Amcricau Manufactures.
The combined results of scientific
research and patented inventions have
' led the United States'lo lake a'front
position, in, the' nianut'uctprqs <df the
i 'de-dby tinware is
' sold in Birmingham, although the tin
comes from* Cornwall, and poyp freight
j here and back, besides the duties on it.
American 'baby-rattles, 'tt>o, are skipped
to England; and little brass and iron
wheels, piaons, 'and such things are
, MQt to thd old town of Nuremburgbiu
i Germany, the center 6J the toy trade of
the world, to be made np into toys, to
benwt together by the women ,afld
Germany, who, have not jrot
beeu able to V Make jft>n and Steam
aud steel do the Work of hßtipfln
hands, as have the inventors Jf ffeic
jUnittd Stute# Sir ltobeh Pe«f once
said it WM " the destiny af the VaUOd
, States to feed Great Brihun, and the
! destiny of Great Biituin to clothe the
| United States." Even if that was true
then, it is not so now. English opinion
has ctmhged in this respect.
Again, people generally have but a
faint idea of the amount of labor ahd
money that is expended in producing
and perfecting inventions. Sir. Koldeu
spent sixteen years and $250,000, and
his partner, Sir. Lester, as much more,
on their wool-combing machine, and
altogether there was expended on the
| invention before final success not less
! thau $10,000,000.
j Bessemer made on outlay of SIOO,OOO
I before he realized ultimate success with
I his iuvention; and his suocess has re-
I suited iu a saving of $25,000,000 to the
| public duriog: the past twenty-five
1 years. Sir. Singer, a man who knew
nothing in the world about sewing ma
chines, sitting by his fireside reading a
paper, when in five minntes, as quick
; us thought, by a mere accident, comes
| to him the idea that he subsequently
j patented. Ho was paid $13,000,000 as
i his reward.— Bot ton Bulletin.
A Baffled Lawyer.
Even the immortal Daniel Webster
sometimes met with more thin his'
match. Ko once tried, in an nngai
lant way, to break down a woman's evi
dence. aha was handsome, well edu
cated, and possessed great self-posses
sign-aud decision of character. Webster,
at a glance, had the sagacity, to forseo
that her testimony, if it contained any
thing of importance, would have great
weight .with the court and jury. lie
therefore resolved, if possible, tob/duk
her down. And when she answered
the first question put to her, "I be
lieve,'' Webster roared out: "Wo
don't want to hear what you believe,
we want to hear what you know !" The
lady calmly replied that she was awaro
j of that fact, and calmly proceeded with
j her testimony. Notwithstanding his
j repeated efforts to disconcert her, she
i pursued the even tenor of her way, un
til We lister, becoming fearful of the re
sult, arose, apparently in great agitation,
and drawing out his large snuff-box,
thrust Lis thumb and finger to the very
bottom, and carrying the pinch to hath
nostrils, drew it up with a gusto. Then
extracting from bis pocket a very large
' handkerchief, which lloweil to his feet
as hebronght it to the front, he Mew
his nose with a feport that rang.dis
tant and lou'il thtough the crowded hall.
His next question was in reference to
the neatness of a lady Concerned iu the
ease. " Was she a peat woman?" he
asked. " I cannot give yon full infor
mation as to tliat, sir. She had one
very dirty trick*" said the witness,
calmly. •' Sbfc took snnff !" The effect
was overwhelming ! The rear iu the
: court was such that Webster sat down
I and let the witness severely alone.
A QENTLiiMAJi.—Tbb English defini
tion of this word is limited. When tho
gentlemen of country arc spoken of,
or tho gentlemen of England, not every
man is meant, nor even every reapec-ta
ble, educated, and decently-behaving
i diaPi There is implied a certain cornli
1 tion in life, a certain social position,
which may or may nuts be accompanied,
i but whfdti gi tkrafly i«u eompanietl. bv
! a certain degree of wealth. liutau Eng
lish geutleuiap 4" his completeness is
much wore tCin thin, even if lie is lord
of thousands of acres upon which his
forefathers liavtv liyed for centuries.
• Ue.4uld.-e fa iddin«4 is Us jiosiiioir due
to birth and estate, honor, good-breed
ing, ceurtgjpiud person - .*! dignity.
li Thedmst »#' t« ag» is io
i tie a rope around it. If a vigilance
comnliitoe Joes *1«B -tying,■ your age
I ends.
Ulsauilei'ritond.
Fat people are a generally misunder
stood class. Almost everybody de
olinafV> tfeink industrious, aui
tbev ara legitimate objects of ridicule,
if a fat young man enters into an ath
letic competition of any kind, and is
not successful, the multitude will,
probably, console him by jeering at
his efforts and by advising him to eat
less pudding. If a fat woman essays
to dance, and dances well and lightly,
onlppkers ol the soder sort will, psoba
bly, draw UullaiteHng 'analogies be
tween ber and certain animals, and
suggest that she would be all tbe bet-
I ter if she were made to stir about a
i little more and to devote less time to
hVr sofa and her conok. Vet, generally,
fat are not very different
from other young people, except that
theyfreijjienfly do with an effort, what!
the datter can- do With comparative
ease. But every lot has its compensa
-1 lions, and so fat people are favored in
1 another direction. It is a popular hal
lucination thatobesity and good humor
ktdp.qecMothfei jfUa poiVtm
who believes that his fat neighbor is
lazy and flabby of mind, also believes
that his fat neighbor is amiable to the
last degree. He may never have spoken
io'theimhn ih hiiMfe, bat this dous not
affect his faith in the slightest. He
will ieol inolinej to tell yop U> your
face that Jofhetfn coahltiot iiftvd got fat
if he had been a nervous or an irritable
j individual. He will jnform you that
|on the beaming countenance of that
. personage you may read that ho does
to rfureservedly accept ull that you are
told about tbe corpulent Jobhson. You
cannot imagine him in a passion. But, ,
lor all that, he may be a peculiarly'
bad-tempered individual, lity is nof,
as tuauy sffpppse, jolly even when he.
jisin a comparatively good humor. He
t duos not teem over with philanthropy,
j He is ilPt perpetually tanking 'his mind J
i aa to how he .can dp you or some one I
else a " good turn.'' Nothing is more
j deceptive than hi* übctuous laugh, the
t uuctuousness of which has nothing
J whatever to do with his disposition,
and is due probably to tbe influence of
< the amwmithtiopH}f fat thoa&qseles
of his throat 1 . tslitl, many misguided!
! creatures havq loyi: awfiy by it.
j It gives him a reputation for geherosity
! which ho by no means deserves. We
I have no desire to rail at fat people, or
to defend What wo protest
1 igainet-ure (he absufed noUoua wfjwlltfffi
thejiufa th«.i6au*esw [t iv tint*, Ik utr#
I civilized community ceased to directly
or indirectly gauge the merits of meu
i aud women adijußrdtUg. to the _£ttantity
1 of llesh which they carry on their boues.
Toads tu Trees tuid Stones.
A large toad was found a few days
ago iu an old apple-tree at Won ham
Manor; it came to light whin the tree
was blown dow-u. The " Memoires of
tho French Acudemie »lea Sciences"!
contain a description o? a living toad
found in the heart of an old elm-tree.
Near Nantes, when an old oak was cleft/
open, a toad was found in the very
heart-wood, although) no crevice or
other channel of entrance could bo de
tected; there were about ninety rings
in the trunk of the oak, leading to the
inference (according to one theory)
that the animal must have been iu his
prison-house n'iuety years. Mr. Jesse,
iu roferenae ton*frog found in the
trunk of a mulberry-tree, expressed a
belief that the annual rings had been
gradually but surely inclosing the rep
tile. Toads iu clay havo been more
frequently met with than in trees;
sometimes a whole fumily have been
thus ferreted out at; once. In 1350 a
toad was fouud at a considerable depth:
at Beuthall, near Brosely, Shropshire.
Mr. Bathurst, earthenware manufac
turer at Beuthall, ascertained that the
creature was met with about six feet
beneath the surface, In a layer of
tough elay customarily used for making
brown ware. Above this- layer,
iu sucoeseive strata, Were ferruginous
coal of pour quality, clay, a loam of
play and gravel, and meadow turf at
the top. The toad was found filling u
Cavity as wax does a seal. A minute
examination of the superincumbent
strata failed to detect any fissure
through which tho animal could have
entered. The light of day seemed at
first to distress it, but this it soon be
came accustomed to; the eyes were
brilliant, the skjq moist, thaniopth
qui to closed.— CJtatnteri' Journal.
Metropolitan Murders
The murders of New York are not
chiefly recorded in the proceedings of
the criminul courts, nor are their per
petrators'fiamcs often associated with
deeds of crime. The greater part of
tbe murders of the metropolis are thej
work of public officers of the city.
Puring the last six years an average j
of more than 28,000 persons have died
in New York.
This is at the rate of more than 28
deaths to 1,000 citizens annually, estid
mating the population of tho city to bw
1,000,000. In a heulthy community,
the average death rate is 15 to each (
1,000 inhabitants auuually.
in New York 13 out of every 1,000
inhabitants are murdered annually.
Who commit these murders? The
public officers who permit filthy streets,.
defective sewers, drains, foul privies,'•
factories, stables and docks to poison
tbe atmosphere which our citizens
breathe. We arraign the Street Clean
ing Bureau us murderers. Their neg
lect of duty is destroying life daily.
Th 3,blond of ft victim was ne*<{r upon a
murderer moie truly than is the death :
of thousands chargeable to them. Were :
if not for the work of the Board o' ,
Health, which, as Dr. Janeway shoaed,
in his report lust eveuiug, has greatly |
reduced the mortality iu the tenement j
house districts, the uuubtr of deaths
for which municipal officers are re-!
spoupible .would tie dtiil more appall
ing. ;
There are ether public officer* who
share with members of the Street!
Cleaning Bureau in the guilt of l,3tK)|
murders each year.—AT. Y. Mail.
'VI-MI FT M'FWJI F> I
Men w ho have not time to be honest 1
tind abundant leisure for dishonesty,.
sometimes. i
Discovery of a Colossal God of the
Philistines at Gaza.
At Qaza, on the Gth ult., au Arab
was quarrying stone at a place about
four and a half miles distant from the
town, and unearthed the marble figure
of a man. The following are tho
dimensions given by un Arab eye
witness, namely: " Three feet from top
of head to end of beard ; twenty-seven
Inches from ear to eur; from top of
forehead to moiltli,' thirteen and on'e
half inch tat ? from shoulder to shbulder,
lifty-four inches ; from crown -of head
to waist, eighty one inches and flfty
fotir inches the circumference of the
neck. The total height is fifteen feet:
The hair haugs in long ringlets down
upon the shoulders, and the beard is
long, indicating a man of venerable
age. Tho right arm is broken in half,
while tho left is crossed over tho breast
to tbe right shoulder, whoro the hand
is hidden by tho drapery of a cloak
covering tlio shoulders." I presume
the statue is nude, though this fact is
not stated. Theru is no inscription
either on the figure or on tho pedestal,
and the latter is a luk« block, carved
in one piece with tho god. It was
fouud in a- recumbent position, buried
in the sum! upm the tip of a hill near
tho sea, evidently removed from its
original site, which is unknown. Its
estimated weight is 111,000 pounds. Tho
Paeh of Jerusalem bits ordered a guard
to watch thirtjutefevting relicqf aucient
art and prevent ahV injury by the
fanatics of Oaz>». I Str iU endeavor to
i procure a photograph of this probable
god of tho Philistines and mail it to
>ou later ;ami I much rtfgrel the fore
going description js so meager in de
tails, bat it ft translated 'from h brief
account by an, who possesses
Ino urohteolpgiotj knowledge. Judging
merely from tlie " long hair and long
beard'' and the position of t-llb left
hand, I should be disposed to assume
that it is an Assyrian monument coin
memorativ;e of their invasion, of Pales
tine. But it is pretrial ure to conjecture
until lurther and 'mole precise purtien
locs can die bail fr uu Gaz».—Jaffa
Letter, in -V. Jr. thru I. . ,
Possibilities by Irrigation
One of tl)9 intetestiug problems of
the near future is thu conversion of the
arid plains at the eastern base bf' the
Kooky Mountains into tillable laud.
The importance of tho'qilestlon w best
comprehended by the light,of the fig
ures of the area of the arid lands. It is
said toeqrtul one-fifth of tho prddubVUre
area of the United 'States. Where it
has been possible to subject tlu" laud to
irrigation up astonishing agricultural
richness has been found; but at presopt,
facilities for irrigation by mountain
streams extend no farther than from
forty to fifty miles from the base of the
range. With' tho problem of tho irri
gation solved, these plains will came to
be rated among the richest agricultural
regions of tho oouutry. As a preliuii
nary to practical tests, tho commission
er has engaged tho servicos of Mr.
lirisben Walker, lato editor of tho
liepubllc, to proceed to Colorado and
report hpoii the possibilities of artificial
irrigation, especially with reference to
artesian wolls, which, iu those sect ions
whore mountain streams aro not avail
able, seem to ho tho only possible
sourcu of supply for irrigating purpos
es. Xliero are now some five thousand
artesian wolls in successful operation,
aud tbo experiments made by tho
French engineers in the Great Sahara
Desert would indicate that the plan is
feasible. If aa inexhaustible supply of
Water can be obtained from subterra
nean sources to adequately water tho
arid lauds of the great plains, then our
political economists ..must add that
immense tract of rich soil to tlye
available agricultural resources of the
couutry. Tho time would seem to be
not far distant when it Will' be almost
impossible to couviuco anybody that
the alleged "Great American' 'Desert''
trpon tho old maps was ever any filing
fclse but pure, unadulterated fiction nnfi
a wild draft uoou tho iihagiuatiua.-H
--■Hawkeue.
HUSTON'S FIRST THEATER. —'The' first
theater in Boston was established iu
1792, under difficulties. It was erected
in Hoard Alley, now Ilawloy Street,
and opened August 10th, 17!);!, under
the management of J. Harper. The
opening performance consisted of exer
cises on the tight rope and ballet
daucing. Later in tho year a
of comeiliafis arrived from London,
under the management of Mr. Powell,
and commenced n tbeatrioal season.
To evade th° statute against theatrical
performances, they called the plays
"moral lectures"; but Hancock wus
governor, and was not disposed to
suffer such barefaced evasions of the
law. They were playing tho " moral
lecture of ' Hie-hard the Third,'" one
evening, and had proceeded as far as
" Bosworth Field," when the sheriff
came unceremoniously upon tho stage,
and made a prisoner of tho humpbacked
tyrant. Great nproar followed, %ud
tho portrait of Hancock, that was
hanging in front of the stage
box! was taken down and trodden
uuiler foot. The next night every man
went armed with a bludgeon, but there
wits no more interference, and The next
season tho Boston Theater in Federal
Street was built, a largo majority of tho
town being iu favor of it.
IIKADEUS or CHAKAOTEH.— 'WIiou an
observing woman looks at' a mail she
generally makes an estimate ot him
then aud there. The glance is with
drawn, and goes into obscurity, like au
instantaneous sun-picture, there to
deepen into distinctness. Almost every
woman has set up a gallery of these
impressions, which she shows rarely,
aud to her trusted intimates alone.
15 it there he is preserve 1 —a simpleton,
a rowdv, a gallant, a rogue, a gentle
man, lu thu long run you generally
succeed in justifying all her silent esti
mates. A tine womau has not the «oh
scionsness that belongs to spies; stress
guiltless of the uet and the intent to
watch OH. Men deliberately act them
Belvcs to the work of scrutiny; and pay
out all the lino they have to fathom au
associate, aud bring up his mud or guld
sand sticking to the sinker. But clear
headed wornep intuitively understand
the nature., of men, aud read tivui
easily.
Afterwards.
Moat wives after a year or so of wed
ded life, submit to themselves, if not to
ono or two personal friends—an an wise
confidence, by the way—that husbands
differ essentially from lovers in their
deportment toward the chosen of their
hearts. The " sweet, small courtesies "
which rendered the lover so irresistible
are forgotten or put aside, and the hus
band makes anybody el.se welcome to
perform such office* P»r his- wife, to
long us ho is allowed the'enjoymeut of
his newspaper und cigar, and general
freedom and ease. Is it the husband
who turns over the wife's utusic, opehs
the wife's parasol, runs on the wife's
trivial errands from this room to that?
On the contrary, the friend, the guest,
the casual stranger, the next one haqdy,
is tho convenient person on whom these
little duties dovolve in too mmry inJ
stances. <
The wife's reign was short enough j
and now, she who was soverign lady
must uiinister to the wants of her form<-
er slave— now her lord. She does Hot;
df»ubt(her husband's fealty ; she kpojfß
that he is ready for all the big tilings
of life ; but she, who longs for the,
every day demonstration of lov|& Waul#
rather have the little things.;To he?
it is not the great sacrifice, the all-day
work and weariuess that constitute evi
dence o!f affection ; he would, ho doihg
that for some other woman whom'lre
would have married, probably* iif he
had not mapped her ; but what, was
evidence of love before rnuymge, ijj to
her that evideuco now, and only that
just those little cares of vbicli lier. hus
band feels himself allowably relieved,
tho things, that Warmed her ,girfish
heart, the things that ho wou,ld.bi dding
for her and her, personality alone/'and
tiow ho is indifferent (itid* eaVelesb, hot
otilyvWhoß they arq aloni'd but *oraf
sting °f all?— when >n company.
' Woman's pride is hsuatly eqhal'tb
Iter love. Hhe cannot bear ■th t tha
wvu'ld Bhonld sec her, husband's,i*eg
leet of her ; she wantk people to see.
by Ills CntWar.T demeanor, that 'she' hits
beell able to presents his tove.i flic
smalt Attentions of other men do not
compensate for his neglect.
Affitisband has a thousand Intwests
in the world besides himself; a wife
hast only her husband., H ur 1°!/ fyf
liiui and bis neglect of her make her
life aiiii thoughts too' narrow fur eudufct
anoe. ( j\ ,• • M•» 1/ 'I T
It >uust be admitted dhat womeu are,
sometimes to olame for this staW off
uffVirs ; a vixen or a sloven'cannot hops
to ict-iin her husband's tore ,upd re
spect. Jiut, us a rule, it is the man,
udil'the womau, Who ignores thdlittle
courtesies which sweet Jit life. It is the
wife who tries to niokoi hmvye what it
should be, und herself as lovely an ob
ject as may bo in Iter iordS) eVee ; and
it is often by this very course of Jiort
that this neglect has come übout. She
has pampered him till he forgets to
pamper in tnru. Yet she rarely makes
complaint ; tho wife with self respect
or spirit makes no demands ; what love
does not render as a free-will ofi'eriug,
slip will go without; but if her hus
band knew what, she suffered in tho
going witliout.it would never be with
held, for his neglect usually has its
origin iu thoughtlessness ; or perhaps
his parents did not early teach him
V how :to behave."
The Sparrow War,
Ouoe upon a time u certain ,King of
Prussia found fault with the sparrow,
long beford it was brought over hero
and subjected to the prevailing storm
of unfriendly criticism that is now
boating upou its hardy licad and ener
getic struggle for existence. This mag
nate aforcsuid wan fond of currants, big
rod Dutch currants,'and a row of richly
laden bushes, which his gardener was
cultivating in confident pride for the
ultimate delectation of the royal palate,
was the subject of more attoution from
his Majesty than tho gorgeous flower
parterres or the clumps of semi-trop
ical foliage, transplanted to please his
eye, here and there throughout the
princely gardens. When tho berties
were ulmost blnshing in full crimson
beauty of ripeness, his ljoyal High
ness made the unpleasant discovery
that multitudes of sparrows not only
coveted tho fruit as much as he, hut
that they had oateu them all before ho
coufd muster an ulurm, mount guard,
and pick the clusters for himself.
A quaint chronicler tells us, there
upon, that the wrath of his Highness
was not confined to a siugle or repeated
explosions of disgust on tho garden
walks, but that an edict was published
at onoe ordering tho extermination of
the Pargita ilimestica; aud so thorough
ly did tho vassals of tho crown carry
ant this law, that the utihappy spar
rows were literally eliminated from tho
Prussian realms. Then this old histo
rian goes on to say that to tho groat
surprise of " his Mujestio" the currant
bushes were not permitted, after the
expulsion of these bird H, to render ser
vice after tlieir kiud, for a strange $y
next year followed,'and "did eat ye
leaves " so extensively that the shrnbs
again failed in bearing ; aud so oil sea
son after season, until the king, weary
of seeing the ravage, revoked the do
crco of death to the sparrow, aud actu
ally paid out of the royal trcaiury
some eight hundred thousand dollars
in the form of rewards to his people
for their zeal in banging the exiled
birds back.
Thus the sparrow, whiuh we have
bruught over from the Continent, is no
stranger to persecution, aud the success
with which he lights for a living here
lingers well for his future; but like all
other people of pronounced character,
ho has decided phases of good commin
gled with much thut is as decidedly
evil; hence his friends and his foes
have arisen, aud the overburdened re
fraiu of their angry disavowals usd re
oriminationa U spread oat within the
columns of the press wherever men can
road in this country.—Pnor. H W EL
LIOTT, in Hamper I .Vtgazinr.
A yonng lmlv of Moultrie Couuty
taoiiiitt iu u eommunioaJtiou on Bom** prt*
sumablv iutereMiug topic, with the re
(jucht to '* i'ieaao print if not too full.
It iff hardly Leceeaary to Bay that we
hurl back the bane insinuation with
scorn —also the couimunicatit n.—-(Chi
cago Tribune.
ii