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Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, January 24, 1884, Image 1

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Volume xviii.
Helena, Montana, Thursday, January 24, 1884.
No.
10 .
<f
R. E. FISK D. W FISK, * J- FISK -
Publiskers und Proprietors.
Largest Circulation of any Pa per in Montana
Rates of Subscription.
WEEKLY HERALD: ..... f3 m
One Year. (in advance)........................ ..... ()0
hi* Month«, (In addance)..................... ........ 1 ()0
be
Fou. ^'^^effnaUcases Prepaid.
DAILY HERALD: |
1 l* «»öd hv oArrier.S 1 ^^ niontn
City Subscribers, del« ered by ca a) « 00
One Year, by mail, (in advance)^............. 6 00
Si* Months, by mall, (m „j^fiîëèï •• 3 0 °
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F,SK Hele na, Montana.
T1IE PARMER'S HIFK.
.. 1 ,nav not award the
Your literary tribunal m«> noi
lour 11 W .1 j hut the author
»rise to the following I^em,
, for it that it is true to Nature and as
claims for it that 1 ....... r* verv
good a» Tennyson
n's last, anyhow. Be very
,.ref,"bout the punctuation, forif you om.t the
, 1 ... tir-t line of verse 2 you will make
œyherohie -milk her cow from the topmost
bough-" So, now, here we go.
I.
Oh • the farmer's wife has a toilsome life,
she rises with the sun,
AiVl works with a will, nor stops she until
Her daily labor's done,
But, tlio' toil she may, for the live-long da> ,
Her heart is light and gay ;
For th - farmer, her pride, whatever betide.
I« true to her as day.
II .
As she milks her cow, from a topmost bough
A blackbird greets her ears.
While the lambkin's bleat, so plaintive and
sweet,
Cheats time of many tears.
In the air aloft, melodious and soft.
The lark's pure strain is sung;
Tho it charms her soul, more dear than the
whole
Is th' trulhful farmer's tongue.
HI.
And well we do know, wherever they go,
Their hearts from guile are free;
Ami if toil they must for their daily crust,
They'll work mutually.
He will plough the soli, she will bake and
I>01]—
The farmer and his wife.
He will reap and mow. she will spin and sew :
Thus journey they through life.
WE KNOW NOT WHAT IT IS.
WV know not what it is, dear, this sleep so deep
and still
The folded hands, the awful calm, the cheek so
pale and chill ;
The lids that will not lift again, though we may
call and call ;
The strange white solitude of peace that settles
over all.
WV know not what il means, dear, this desolate
heart pain ;
This dread to take our daily way. and walk in it
again ;
W'e know not to what other sphere the loved
who leave us go,
Nor why we're left to wander still,nor why we
do not know.
But this we know : Our loved and dead, it they
* should come this day—
.should come and ask us, 'What Is life?" not one
of us could say !
Life is a mysterv as deep as ever death can be?
Yet oh, how dear it is to us, this life we live and
see.
Then might they say—these vanished ones—and
bl e ss e d is the thought ;
* Sodcatu is sweet to us, beloved.thougli we may
show you naught :
W'e may not to the quick reveal the mystery of
death—
Ye cannot tell us, if ye would, the mystery of
breath." «
The child who enters life conies not with know 1
edge or intent.
*0 those who enter deatii must go as little child
ren sent. , , „ ,
Nothing is known. But I believe that God is
overhead ; .
And as life is to tho living, so deatii is to the
dead. ^
PROFIT AND LOSS.
Phillis, much more wise than fond.
Thinking no gain comes amiss,
One day extracts from Philmonde
Thirty sheep far just one kiss.
But the next day conies a change -
He will win his will more cheap,
And now extracts from her
Thirty kisses for one sheep.
Next day Phillis, grown more kind,
Anxious is her love to keep.
So she with contented mind,
For one kiss gives all the sheep.
Next day l'hillis, wise in vain.
Would give Bhoep and dogs as well
For the kiss the tickle swain
Gives for nothing to Arbclle.
—{Templt. Har.]
I*rid** Has a Fall.
Only some snow : but under it—ice,
Sufficient of snow to cover it nice!
Only a man—proud, walking along,
I'p go his heels, down goes the Arong.
Only a sting in his cold fingers.
Sweetly, indeed, the memory lingers.
Only a rent in his tine new punts,
But stopping at once his further udvance.
Only an oatli ! but so strong and deep
As to cause one's blood in a chill to creep.
Only a flaw in deportment neat.
Caused by that treacherous ice under feet.
Only a man! but fallen so low,
1 'ursing the author of " Beautiful Snow !
Only his wish in this world so wide—
To discover the boy who made that slide.
A Remarkable Nose.
[Chicago News.J
John B. Clark. Jr., of Missouri, Chief
Clerk of the lower house of Congress, is par
ticularly remarkable foa'his nose, which
seems to be a cross lietween a bouquet of
bright-colored exotics and an Italian sun
set. It is altogether the most phenomenal
nose that has ever apjieared in Washing
ton, and this, it must be admitted, is say
ing a great deal. It has the characteristics
of the chameleon—not that it subsists upon
air. but that, under varying circumstances,
it changes its hue. Sometimes it is a gor
geous purple, reminding the beholder of
of those splendid rolies worn by Roman
»•onquerera and the wealthiest nobles of
early Latin times ; anon it is a fiery red,
resembling the Jeonflagration of a prairie
haystack on a <Jark night. Again we find
it a somber gray or a sullen chrome yellow,
while at certain periods it presents a pale,
pinkish tint, with dark blue polk£ dots.
On two or three occasions it has assumed
the natural tri-colors—red, white and bine
hut its steadiest hue is a brick-red, with
beautiful mauve waves and a few splashes
of bright green, producing at once a varied
and pleasing aspect. We do not know that
any estimate as to the value efsuch a nose
lias ever lieen made, but it is believed that
Mr. Clark must have expended a large for
tune upon this useful and singularly orna
mental member of his pe:
ersoD.
PRINCESS IDA.
Gilbert and Sullivan's Mew Opera
at the Savoy Theatre,
London.
VERSES FROM THE LIBRETTO.
I By Cable to the N. Y. Herald. J
London, January 5— The new opera by
Mr. W. Gilbert and Sir Arthur Sullivan,
entitled "Princess Ida; or A Castle of Ada
mant," a respectful perversion of Tenny
son s "Princess, ' in a prologue and two
acts, was produced at the Savoy Theatre
to-night for the first time.
THE ACTION.
The prologue opens with an exquisite
scene representing the gardens of a castle,
with a river and a rustic bridge. The first
act requires condensing. The second act
contains excellent music and is dramatic
and humorous. The play is less comical
than previous productions of the same
authors. The humor is subtle, but lacks
the laughter provoking element. The
overture is short and there is a rather fine
opening chorus, w ith brilliant grouping.
The trio of the King's three sons in armor
is good. Leonora Braliam sings an aria.
Mr. Grassmith has a rather small part with
a humorous song. Mr. Bracey, a tenor
from the Comedy Theatre, also appeared in
the opera.
THE LIBRETTO.
The plot is similar to that of the "Prin
cess," Mr. Gilbert's play, which owes its
origin to Tennyson's poem, and which was
played at the Olympic Theatre, London.
The prologue opens with the exterior of
King Hildebrand's palace, and there is the
usual opening chorus. . Prince Hilarion has
chosen the Princess Ida for his bride, and
expects her arrival in charge of King Gama.
But the King appears without her, alleging
as a reason for his failure that the Princess
is shut up in a ladies' castle, to which no
man may enter. Hilarion, Cyril and Flor
ian engage to capture the Princess, and go
disguised in female apparel to Castle Ada
mant. They are admitted to the castle,
but their sex is discovered, and the Prin
cess, horrified, falls into a stream in the
castle gardens. Hilarion rescues her, but
he and his companions are condemned to
death and are about to be executed when
King Hildebrand besieges the castle.
After a severe struggle it is captured, and
the ladies succumb to the victors, Princess
Ida giving her hand to Hilarion.
THE CHOKES.
The openiug chorus was sung by soldiers
and courtiers, who are provided with opera
glasses:—
Search tlirouKhout the panorama
For a sign of royal Gama,
Who to-day should cross lhe water
With his fascinating «laughter—
Ida is lier name.
KING GAMA APPPEARS.
King Gama on his entry iutrodcues him
self:—
if you will give me your attention i will tell you
what I am : Â
I'm a genuine philantliw>pist—ail other kinds
are sham.
Each little fault of temper and each social defect
In my erring fellow creatures I endeaver to cor
rect.
To all their little weaknesse« 1 open people's
eyes.
And little plans to snub the self-sufficient I de
vise;
I iove my fellow creatures, 1 do all the good I
can.
Yet everybody says I'm such adisagreeable man!
And I can't tell why !
To compliments inflated I've a withering reply,
And vanity 1 always do my best to mortify—
A charitable action I can skillfully dissect,
And interested motives I'm delighted to detect—
j know everybody's income and what everybody
earns.
And I carefully compare it with the income tax
returns :
But to benefit humanity how much I plan,
Yet everylxxly says I'm such a disagreeable man!
Yet 1 can't think why!
THE CONSPIRACY.
Hilarion announces his plot to capture
the princess:—
Gome, Cyril, Florian, our course is plain.
To-morrow morn fair Ida we'll engage;
But we will use no force her love to gain.
Nature fias armed us for the war we wage !
This is followed by a trio—Hilarion,
Cyril and Florian: —
HlL.— Expressive glances.
Shall be our tances.
And pops of Siilery
Our light arti lery.
We'll storm their bowers
With scented flowers
That we can buy.
The young tuen disguise themselves as
girls and go to Castle Adamant, where they
crave entrance. The first act opens before
the castle, where the Princess encourages
her companions in their studies:—
Women of Adamaut, fair Neophytes—
Who thirst for such instruction as we give,
Attend while I unfold a parable.
The elephant is mightier than man,
Yet man subdues him - Why? The elephant
Is elephantine everywhere hut here [tapping her
forehead J.
And u»Jn, whose bruin is to the elephant's
As womuii's brain to man's (that's rule of
three)—
Conquors the foolish giant of the woods,
As woman in her turn shall conquor man !
In mathematics, woman leads the way
The narrow minded pedant still believes
That two and two muke four! Why, we can
prove,
We women—household drudges as we are—
That two and two make live—or three—or seven;
Or five and twenty, if the case demands!
Diplomacy ? The wiliest diplomate
Is absolutely helpless in our hands;
He wheedles monarch»—woman wheedles hi ml!
Ixjgie? Why, tyr.au man himself admits
It's waste of time to argue with a woman !
Lady Blanche gives her views on philos
ophy :—
Come mighty Must!
inevitable Shull!
In thee 1 trust,
Time weaves my coronal !
Go, mocking Is!
Go, disappointing Was!
That 1 hui mis
Ye arc the curse«l cause !
Yet humble second shall be first,
1 ween;
And dead ami buried lx* the curst
Has Been !
Oh, weak Might Be! _ ,
Oh, May. Might, Could, Mould, Should!
How powerless ye
For evil or for good.
In every sense
Your moods I cheerless call,
What'ere your tense
Ye are imperfect all !
Ye have deceived the trust thr.t I ve shown
In >'« :
Away! The Mighty Must alone
Shall be!
WTHIN THE WALLS.
The young men arrive and sing a trio :—
I am a maiden cold and stately.
Heartless I. with face divine.
What do 1 want with a heart innately .
Every heart I meet is mine.
Haughty, humble, coy or free.
Little care I what maid may be.
So that;« maid is fair to see.
Every maid is the maid for me !
They are admitted to the institution, but
their identity is discovered by Pysche,
Florian 's sister, whom has has not seen for
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many years. The ladies are Darwinians
as Psyche informs the new comers:—
A lady fair, of lineage high,
Was loved by an ape in the days gone by—
The maid was radient as the sun,
The ape was a most unsightly one—
So it would not do—
His scheme fell through.
For the maid, when his love took formal shape,
F.xpressed such terror
At nis monstrous error.
That lie stammered an apology and made his
'scape,
The picture of a disconcerted ape.
With a view to rise in the social scale,
He shaved his bristles, and he docked his tail,
He grew moustaches, and he took his tub,
And he paid a guina to a toilet club—
But it would not do.
The scheme fell through—
For the maid was beauty's Fairest Queen,
With golden tresses.
Like a real princess',
While the ape despite his razor keen,
Was the apiest ape that ever was seen.
He bought white ties and he bought dress suits,
He crammed his feet into bright tight boots—
And to start himself on a brand new plan,
j He christened himself the Darwinian Man!
But it would not do,
The scheme fell through—
For the maiden fair whom the monkey craved,
Was a radiant Being,
With a brain fur-seeeing,
While a shaved monkee, though well-behaved.
At best is only a monkey shaved !
When they are about to suffer punish
ment Hildebran's soldiers appear and bat
ter at the gates or the castle. The enrtain
falls on act I.
ACT II.
The second act occurs upon the outer
walls and courtyard of Castle Adamant.
Melissa, Sacharissa and ladies discovered,
armed with spears.
CHORUS.
Death to the invader!
Strike a deadly blow,
As an old Crusader
Struck his Paynim foe !
I,ei our martial thunder
Fill his soul with wonder!
Tear his ranks asunder,
Lay the tyrant low !
The Princess, attended by Blanche and
Psyche, enters and says:—
I like your spirit, girls ! We have to meet
Stern, bearded warriors in fight to-day.
Wear naught but what is necessary to
Preserve your dignity before their eyes
And give your limbs full play.
The Princess calls upon them to prepare
for action. Sacharissa declares that while
she as surgeon, is willing to cut off legs
and arms in theory, she will not venture
to do it in practice. She calls upon her
fusilleere to advance, but they are armed
with mere gilded toys, having left their
rilles in the armory "for fear that in the
heat and turmoil of the fight they might
go off!" The band ".doesn't feel well and
can't come oat to-day." However, the
Princess declares that she will cut off legs
and discharge rifles herself.
Gama, a little later, has the following
song:—
W bene' re I spoke
Sarcastic joke
Replete with malic« spiteful,
This people mild
Politely smiled
And voted me delightful !
N'i'W wfie.i .1 w igi.t
Sits up all night
Ill-natured jokes devising,
And all his wiles
Are met with smiles.
It's hard, there'* no disguising.
Oh, don't the days seem lank and long
When all goes right and nothing goes wrong.
And isn't your life extremely flat
With nothing whatever to grumble at !
Hilarion, Florian and Cyril are brought
out handcuffed and still wearing the robes.
When they approach the battlements to
attack the ladies Arac sings
Whene'ere we go
To tight the foe
We never throw a chance away,
And at last
We always cast
Each useless circumstance away.
A helmet light
Is f«r from light.
Life-guardsmen know how true it is.
( Taking off helmet.)
A bright cuirass
We also class
With useless superfluities.
( Taking off cuirass.)
All this array
Is in the way
It is, upon my word it is—
For who can fight
Locked up tight
In lobster-like absurdities?
( By this time they have removed nil their
armor and trear nothing but a close fitting
shape suit.)
Though brasses
And tasses
And snowy cuirasses.
Are all very useful to dazzle the lasses.
He classes with asses
Who cumbers with masses
Of metal
His fettle,
Tro la la la la!
The three are defeated by the ladies, and
after musical and recitative explanations,
the Princess utters the final lines of the
opera:—
We will not trouble you, Hilarion,
I have been wrong—I see my error now.
Take me, Hilarion ! "We will walk the world
Yolked in all exercis- of noble end !
And so through those dark gates across the
wild
That no man knowi ! Indeed 1 love thee.
Come!"
Relieved in Villnrd.
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[N. Y. Herald. 1
"Those who think Mr. Villard is dishon
est make a great mistake," was the remark
of the senior member of a Broad street
banking house. "His action in transfer
ring his house shows that he is determined
that no man shall have an opportunity to
.even hint that he is other than the honor
able man I know him to be. The trouble
with Henry Villard was that he did not
know the shoals ànd quicksands of Wall
street thoroughly. He devoted all his
great abilities to finishing the great trans
continental line with which his name will
ever be linked though he should be left
without a dollar in the world to-morrow,
and he neglected to keep himself informed
of what was being done among the bear
cliques of speculators, who stand ready to
destroy any property if they can only pick
up something from the wreck. While he
was providing a magnificent road, opening
up the country along its line and directly
adding to the comfort and happiness of
tens of thousands of people, these fellows
were larking in their dens about Exchange
place and watching for an unguarded mc
ment to pounce upon their prey. They
had not Mr. Villard's ability to organize
and develop, to create, bat they had power
to pillage and they did it."
Mother (to governess)—"Come, work the
children ont of the 100 m ; my doctor is
coming." Little daughter—"Oh, mamma,
let us stay here. We want to—" Mother
—"Well, what do yon want?" little
daughter—"Why, you know, papa always
says the doctor leads yon about by the
nose, and we want to see him do it.— For
eign Fun.
SOMETHING TO LAUGH AT.
Provided for Those Who Delight in
Funny Paragraphs.
A Difficult Question Answered.
[Chicago Tribune. 1
"Is this an editor?"
The horse reporter looked up from a
little idyl on the life and career of Kysdyck's
Hamhletonian, into which he had heen
pqttiug the best efforts of his surging brain,
and beheld a rather short young man who
was peering in an alfable but somewhat
irresolute mauuer over a very high collar,
and on whose upper lip was a delicate
tracery which looked as if it might have
been effected with some No. 2 molasses,
and at which the young man was making
furtive grasps with the thumb and fore
finger of his right hand, evidently under
the impression that he had a mustache and
desired to pull it.
"I want to see au éditer," said the young
man in a voice that sounded like the best
efforts of a cricket, "about a social topic—I
want to see the social-topics editor."
"What sort of a social topic is it that's
worrying you?" inquired the biographer of
St. Julien. "There are a good many social
topics. Has somebody in your social circle
been holding three aces with criminal fre
quency, or has the green-eyed monster
invaded your once happy fiat because your
wife goes to that matinee?"
"Oh, it's nothing like that," said the
young man. "I promised papa that 1
would never play poker and I'm not mar
ried—that is, not yet."
"Well, the gentle sex is having one
lucky, anyhow," said the horse reporter,
surveying the visitor carefully. "If you'll
quit grabbing for that supposititious mus
tache and tell me what ails you, perhaps I
can settle the point. What's the social
topic you are distressed about?"
"Well, you see," said the young man,
"when I got into the laces"
"Into the what?"
"Into the laces—the lace department in
our store, you know—all the other fellows
there were real jealous of me because I
bad been out more in society than they
had. 1 belong to three clubs on the West j
side, and we have hops, and assemblies,
and things every week ; so I am really |
quite in the swim you know. Well, they j
were awfully jealous, you know—just as |
I said—and they talked real mean. I told j
Cholly about it—Cholly's my chum, you !
know—and he said to nevei mind them, j
but keep going right into society ; and he
lent me his mauve pauts for an awfully 1
swell reception one night last week. Choi- |
j ly ar.d I are awful chums, aud I'm going
to give him a book mark on his birthday,
j That will be nice, won't it?"
"Yes," said the horse reporter, "a book- :
! mark is a valuable aid to a young man j
, who is hustling uround to get a living. !
JVilh a strong arm, pure heart and a nice
book mu.k, fortune is within the reach of j
all. But what's the question that's worry- j
iag you ?"
"Oh, yes, the social topic. Well, the ;
! other day a lot of us were talking about ;
young ladies, and I said that very few j
j young men knew what real etiquette was, !
j and I gave an awfully severe look at one !
! fellow who has been terribly jealous of j
! me ever since a yougig lady who came into
the store the other day smiled right over |
! in the direction where I was standing, aud
i never even looked at him. And then some
I one said it was proper to call on a young
! lady and ask her to accompany you to the
i theatre that evening. I said that would
! be wrong—that the correct way was to
; write the young lady a note asking the
I pleasure of her company. We had a terri
I ble discassion about it, and finally agreed
to leave it to the social topics editor of the
Tribune. Now, suppose you were a young
lady, and ^ were to call at your papa's
house and ask you to go to the theatre
with me that evening, what would you
do ?"
".Suppose I were a young lady ?" said
the horse reporter.
VYes."
"And you were to call and ask me to go
to the theatre with yon ?"
"Yes.''
"■What would I do?"
'Yes."
' Well, if somebody had mislaid the gun
I suppose I should have to content myself
with a club."
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The Way to Paralyze Him.
[I'liilapelphia Cull.]
Duinley had taken the landlady's daugh
ter to the theatre and, as usual, had busi
ness ontside between the acts.
"Do you see young Brown over there?"
he said to the young woman.
"Yes," she replied.
"Well, he is a man I expect to paralyze
some day."
"Are you going out to see another man
at the conclusion of this act ?" she asked.
"Yes," Duinley said reluctantly, "I am
afraid I shall have to ; he is waiting for
me now."
•'Well," said the landlady's daughter, "I
don't like Mr. Brown very much either,
and I will tell you what to do. When you
return from seeing the gentleman outside
who is waiting for you, just step over to
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where Mr. Brown is sitting and breathe on !
him. That will paralyze him. " |
Didn't Steal.
[Arkansaw Traveler.]
"Gentlemen," said an Arkansaw Colapel,
as he stood under the limb of a tree m>m
which depended a rope, "I must protest
my innocence. I did not steal the mule.
I am above petty theft. I know that you
all have the interest of the community
at heart, and I do not blame you, but there
are times when we are all liable to lie too
rash. If I had stolen the mule my guilt
would oppress me until I would beg
to be put out of the world in the most
summary way."
"The mule was found in your posses
sion," said the leader of the mob.
"Very trne, my dear sir."
"Did he jump into your lot ?"
"No, sir, I conducted him to the confines
of mv premises."
"I i you buy the animal ?"
"No, Sir."
- "Did yo% trade for him ?"
"I did not."
"Then who stole him ? Let down tt.e
rope, boys."
"Gentlemen, I hope you will give me a
chance to explain. The mule in question
was the property of onr distinguished fel
low citizen, Major Rnglesberry. Some
time ago the Mtyor and I exchanged a few
words of an uncomplimentary nature. I
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intimated that the Major's blood would
be highly satisfactory to me, and the
Major said that my gore would please him
mightily. WelLJwe separated, thoroughly
agreeing with each other. The next day
the Major and I met. I got what is vul
garily called the drop on him, and relieved
him of the top of his head. He was riding
a mule at the time, and when he fell off I
saw that he no longer had any practical
use for the animal, so I took charge of
him. Now, if I had dismounted in the
way he did, I should have interposed no
objection to the Major's taking my horse."
"I hope, sir, that you will excuse ns," re
plied the leader of the mob. "We thought
that you stole the mule. Your explana
tion is most satisfactory, and I hope you'll
excuse us. Let us all take a drink.''
It Took Away Her Appetite.
[Philadelphia Call.]
"Did you have a pleasant time ?" asked
a New York mother of her daughter, who
had just returned from a New Year's din
ner at a friend's house.
"Well," she replied, "we had a beautiful
dinner, and it was delightfully served, and
everything would have been very pleasant
but for that horrid Miss Snooks, who sat
just opposite me at the table."
"What did she do ?" inquired the mother.
"Why, she ate her soup from the end of
her spoon instead of from the side, aud it
1 quite took away my appetite, the vulgar
j thing!"
Industry.
[Arkansaw Traveler.]
"1 haven't taken off my clothes for three
■ nights," said a man in an attempt to create
the impression that he was extremely in
1 duBtrious. "No, sir; haven't taken oil'my
' clothes for three nights. I work harder
J than any man iu this town."
"Haven't takeu off your clothes for three
nights, eh ?" said a bystander,
j ^No, sir."
i "Well, I lielieve you, and go you better
; to the extent that I don't think you've
j taken off your shirt for three weeks."
EMMA LARSON.
! Her Horseback Hide Across the Con
tinent
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a day, but my biggest day's journey was I
aiYtv-tWf. ruilAs ami that was on thé-ioira
[Han Francisco Chronicle.]
There arrived in this city on Sunday
night a young woman from Seattle who
had just successfully completed a tour
"across the plains" on horseback. The
heroine of the ride is Miss Emma Larson,
24 years old, American by birth and of
Scandinavian descent. Her hair is flaxen
colored, her eyes gray; she is very firmly
built and presents an appearance of health
and strength. The following is the story
of her travels, as detailed by her to a
Chronicle reporter yesterday :
"I formerly resided iu California, but
some years ago removed with my folks to
Greeu Lake county, Wisconsin. My father
presented me with a mare—"Kitty" is her
name. She'll lie 8 years old this spring
; and I told my relatives on several occasions
j that Kitty aud I were going to take a trip
j to California ; but they only laughed at
; me. They thought that I would never
j attempt to cross the plains; but
I they were mistaken, for "Kitty" aud
j I and a yearling colt left Wisconsrii on the
I 24th of last April. 1 was always fond of
riding. I only took'Kitty'and the colt,
an oil-coat, a small buffalo robe, two saddle
I blankets and a small sum of money.
! When I started out I had a regular Texas
saddle, with two cinches on it, but it was
too hard and heavy, and so at the first op
portunity I traded it off for a Chicago sad
dle. For about 200 miles ou one part of
the road—it was near Soda Springs, in
Idaho—I did not see a ranch, and for three
days and nights I had nothing to live
upon but water. This was the worst part
of the trip. There may have been ranches
some distance from the road, but I never
left the trail. I followed the railroad line
to Rollins and then to Green liver, thence
to Soda Springs, and from thence to Boise
City ; from Boise City to Baker City, aud
thence to John Day's bridge ; across John
Day's river into Idaho ; and then I crossed
Snake river and rode on to Pendleton, and
from there I arrived at Portland about
October 10th. I would have ridden from
Portland here, but for the lateness of the
season and the scarcity of food on Ae
road.
"What was your method of traveling?"
"I generally started at daylight and rode
until 11 o'clock, and then rested until 1 or
2 o'clock in the afternoon. At this time it
was cooler and I again started out and rode
until I would strike good feed for Kitty, or
if I could not find it I would ride until
sunset. I averaged about twenty-five miles
sixty-three miles, and that was on the Lara
mie plains. No. I never met any more
ferocious animals than deer or antelope.
The whole joumey was pleasant aud a
most enjoyable one. 1 saw no Indians to ;
amount to anything, but one day I rode
with a band of fifty from Big Sandusky to
the Green river. I never paid auy toll aud
my lodgings were never expensive. Some
times I stopped at the ranches along the
way, hut preferred to sleep on the prairie
or the mountain side. With my robes
drawn around me and no other covering
overhead but the blue vaulted sky and its
twinkling stars, I was content. The night
air was cool and invigorating, and the
silence around was very solemn and op
pressive. There was nothing to disturb
me as I lay there peacefully slumbering.
The birds chirping and singing in the trees
and brush would wake me in the moru
ing, and I would immediately
arise and away on my jouruey.
during the day all was quiet. The only
sound to break the stillness was the birds.
Occasionally a startled hare or rabbit
would run across the path and perhaps
that would be the last sign of moviDg life
vou would see for hours. The heat some
times was almost oppressive, but more
especially on the plains, where no shade
was to be found."
"Did you not find the continual riding
in the saddle wearisome ?"
"No. The Chicago saddle I got in the
trade was made for a man, so I generally
used it in the mauner it was intended for.
When I was traveling on the prairie or in
the forest, or, in fact, any place ontside of
a town or city, I straddled the saddle man
fashion. Of course, it was incovenient to
some extent to ride this way wjth a dress
on, for I wore nothing but a dress during !
the whole trip. When I neared a settle
ment 1 changed my style aDd rode as if on
a side-saddle. Once again away from life
and civilization I changed my manner of
riding, and thus overcame, to some extent,
the wearisomeness of the ride."
FESTIVE COWBOY. '
Characteristics of the Land Pirate of
the Wild West.
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[Bill Nye.]
So much amusing talk is lieing made
recently about the blood-bedraggleu cow
boy of the wild "West that I arise as one
man to say a few things, not in a dicta
torial style, but regarding this so-called or
so-esteemed dry land pirate, who, mounted
on a little cow pony and under the black
flag, sails out across the green surge of the
plains to scatter the rocky shores of time
with the bones of his fellow man.
A great many people wonder where the
cowboy, with his abuormal thirst for blood,
originated. Where did this young Jesse
James, with his gory record aud hisdaunt
less eye, come from ? Was he born in a
buffalo wallow at the foot ot some rock
ribbed mountain, or did he first breathe
thin air along the brink of an alkali pond,
where the horned toad and the centipede
sang him to sleep and the tarantula tickled
him under the chin with its hairy legs ?
Careful research and cold, hard^statistics |
show that the cowboy, as a general thing,
was born in an unostentatious manner on
the farm. 1 hate to sit down on a beauti
ful romance and squash the breath out of a
romantic dream ; but the cowboy who gets
too much moist damnation into his system
and rides on a gallop up and down Main
street shooting out the lights of the beauti
ful billiard palaces would be just as un
happy if a mouse ran up his pantaloon
leg as you would, gentle reader.
He is generally a youth who thinks he
will not earn his $25 per month if he
does not yell and whoop and shoot and
scare little girls into St. Vitus' dance. Iv'e i
known more cowboys to injure themselves ■
with their own revolvers than to injure
any one else. This is evidently because ;
they are more familiar with the hoe than i
w ith the Smith & Wesson.
One night while I had rooms in the bus
iness pait of a Territorial city in the !
Rocky Mountain cattle country, I was |
awakened at about 1 o'clock a. m. by the i
most blood curdling cry of "Murder !" 1
ever heard. It was murder with a big M. j
Across the street, in the bright light of a
restaurant, a dozeu cowboys, with broad
sombreros aud flashing silver braid, huge
leather chaperajas, Mexican spur, aud
orange silk neckties, and with flashing re
volvers, were standing. It seemed that a
big, red laced Captain Kid of the band,
with his skin full of valley tan, had
marched into an ice cream resort with a
self-cocker in his baud and ordered the
vanilla coolness for the gang. There being
a dozen young folks at the place, mostiy
male and ternale, from a neighboring hop,
indulging in cream, the proprietor—a
meek Norwegian, \vith thin white hair—
deemed it rude and outre to do so. He
said something to that effect, whereat the
orher eleveu men of alcoholic courage let
off a yell that froze the cream into a solid
glazier and shook two kerosene lamps out
of tueir sockets in the chandeliers.
Thereupon the little Y. M. C. A. Nor
wegian said :
Gentlemans, I kaiu't netfer like dot
squealinks and dot kaiud af a tings, aud
you fellers mit dot ledder pantses on and
dot funny glose and such a tings like dot
better keep kaind of quiet, or I shall call
up the policemen mit iuy delephone."
Then they laughed at him and cried yet
again with a loud voice.
This annoyed the ice cream agriculturist,
and he took the old axe handle that he
used to jam the ice down around the freezer
with and pealed a large area of scalp off
the leader's dome of thought, and it hung
down over his eyes so that he could not
see to shoot with any degree of accuracy.
After he had yelled murder !" three or
four times he fell under an ice cream table {
and the mild-eyed .Scandinavian broke a j
tilver plated castor over the organ of self
esteem and poured red pepper aud salt and
vinegar aud Halford sauce and other rel
ishes on the place where the scalp was
loose.
This revived the brave but murderous
cow gentleman and he begged that he
might be allowed to go away.
The gentle Young Men's Christian Asso
ciation superintendent of the ten-stamp ice
cream freezers then took the revolvers
away from the bold buccaneer and kicked
him out through a showcase and saluted
him with a bouquet of July oysters that
suffered severely trom malaria.
All cowboys are not sanguinary ; but out
•f twenty yon will generally find one who
s brave when he has his revolvers with i
him ; but when he forgot and left his
shooters at home on the piano, the most
tropical violet-eyed dude can climb him
with the but end of a sunflower and beat
his brains out and spatter them all over I
that school district. I
in the wild, unfettered West beware of
the man who never carries arms, never gets ;
drunk and minds his own business. He |
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doesen't go around shooting out the gas
or intimidating a kindergarden school ;
but when a brave frontiersman, with a re
volver in each boot and a bowie kuil'e down
the back of his neck, iusults a modest
young lady and needs to be thrown through
a plate glass window and then walked over
by the populace, call on the silent man who
dares to wear a clean s hirt and human
clothes.
EDITORIAL TROUBLES.
How Various Men Imparted Ideas on
the Weather.
[Chicago Inter Ocean.]
The rural editor sat in his office wri tin
an able and convincing editorial on "The
European War Cloud," and had succeeded
iu embroiling France, Germany and Spain
in a sanguinary struggle when the "old
subscriber" entered, squirted a stream of
tobacco juice with nice precision into the
cuspidor, removed something from his vest
pocket and remarked :
"See that?"
"Well, what's that ?" queried the editor.
"That's a Kentucky goose-bone, right
from the breast of a fowl slaughtered only
last week. And d'ye see that dark portion
covering nearly the entire bone?"
"Y-e-s," said the editor vaguely, as he
hastily scrutinized the bone. What does
it portend ?"
"It predicts a howling cold winter—ther
mometer jumping away below zero every
day daring January and snow lying three
March. The depth of the black mark pp
the bone indicates the depth of the cold,
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feet on the ground until the middle of j
you see. I thought you'd like to know
what a blizzard of a winter was coming, so
yon could urge yonr readers to remember
the poor."
And the "Old Subscriber" went out,
leaving his goose-bone lying on the edi
torial table, while the editor with a shiver,
buttoned up his summer coat, replenished
the coal fire, anil then commenced a timely
article called "A Cold Lookout for the
Poor."
Before he had finished the editorial,
"Constant Reader" entered, threw an un
husked ear of corn on the table, and ear
nestly observed ;
» "Yon may ridicule Wiggins aud them
other Canadian weather prophets, but you
can't go back on the corn-husk. It is an
old reliable every time and I've money to
bet on it."
"Well," asked the editor, examining the
agricultural product, "what does the corn
husk predict this season ?"
"A mild, open winter, sir—the mildest
we've had for twenty-five years. Look at
that!" stripping down the husk; "when
did you see an ear of corn enveloped with
a covering as thin as this? You can wager
heavy odds that the present winter will
I lie phenomenal for its genial, spring-like
atmosphere aud the absence of snow. Yes,
During January yonr subscribers will
be sending you dandelions in full bloom,
plucked by the roadside. Just priut a
piece in your paper saying that the
winter will be marvelously summery, aud,
although plumbers and icemen may swear
and bemoan their hard luck, it will lie a
blessing for the poor. The corn-husk never
makes a mistake.''
And when he had departed the editor
mopped his brow, threw off his coat, closed
the damper in the stove and commenced
an editorial, entitled, "Signs of an Open
Winter."
His
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I t0 Ydii'waU street apropos of the
I recent Vanderbilt ball Mr \V. H. Van
derbilt was in out 0 'ne afternoon when
; he w#8 mtî upon the threshold of the en
| trance hall by a ^ loaded with packages.
"UNCLE RUFUS."
Talk ou Retaliation, Northern
Pacific, Cold Days, Etc.
Rufus Hatch, commonly known as "Un
cle Rufus," being interviewed said, "If I
was a Congressman, I should favor the in
stant passage of a bill doubling the duties
ou pure wiues from France and Germany,
prohibiting absolutely the admission of
adulterable wines and establishing a rigid
custom inspection. I would try to have a
bill passed so as to take effect January 20,
the same day as the French prohibition of
our pork takes effect. We not only raise
good pork but we have the best corn in tho
world to fatten it, and the cry about dis
eased American pork is :>11 rubbish. If
they can do without our meat we can do
without their wines. We can driuk whis
ky. By the way we've got enough whisky
in sight to last five years.
"The Northern Pacific decline has been
almost as bad as a Waterloo to me. I
bulled the stock because I had faith in the
property itself. I still believe in it. Some
body will sell it once too often. I don't
care for my own lasses on the stock. 1 am
anxious for my creditors and such of my
friends as lost money on it. If I was fool
ish enough to bull the stock when I
thought it was at bottom prices, not know
ing it had to drop fifteen or twenty points
lower, that was my misfortune.
"In the last two months there has been
more 'cold days' to a week than in any
full winter I have seen for several years
hack. I'm quite amused just now to see
newspapers that two years ago called me
a 'pessimist' aud other hard names lieeause
I predicted a decline or a . rash, all ranging
themselves on that side now that the tum
ble has come. Now as I sit among ruins
and predict a quick and sure recovery, and
say I see no fear for the future, they will
call me an optimist or some other frightful
name. Why, don't you see that prices can
not go much lower, and in the next fifteen
days New York and Boston will pay out
$100,000.000 of cash for dividends; fully
$25,000,000 of this will seek immediate in
vestment."
Where the Gold Goes.
It is estimated that at least $100,000,000
in gold Dow lie buried in the cemeteries 0
the nations, and the amount will soon
reach a billion. This makes a heavy drain
on the production of gold, but in addition
to this, the vast amount used in gilded
china and crockery ware, picture frames,
the walls and interior decorations of rooms,
railway care, the solid dishes used on the
table, and the amount required in the man
ufacture of watches, gold plating, personal
adornments, and th. wear of our gold coin,
with the amount lost at sea and in our
lakes and rivers, requires more than all the
mines of the nation can produce, so that
without the coinage of silver we could not
keep up the amount of our specie, unless
we purchased it abroad.
Did Not W ant Any Favors.
I New York Sun.]
A good story, which may or may not be
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'What is this ?" he asked the boy. "Them
is favors," was the answer. "Go right back
where you came from," thundered the
great railroad magnate, "and tell to who
ever sent you here that Mr. Vanderbilt
does not want no favors from nobody. '
Preparing lor Emergencies.
[Hartford Courant.]
P. T. Barn ùm on Saturday executed a
codicil to his will. To meet a possible
future claim of insanity, directed iigainst
his will, he called in his family physician
and two other well known Bridgeport
doctors, one a homcepathist and the other
an allopathist, all of whom ^witnessed his
signature and made oath that they be
lieved the testator to be of sound and dis
posing mind and memory.
A Remarkable Case.
[Hartford Times.|
1 A cow raised by Dr. M. C. Hazen, of
Haddam. and now owned by C. C. Crocker,
of Richmond, Ind., has become famous in
the agricultural world. The cow is now
known as Hazen s Bess, aud is seven years
and six months old. During a week, be
ginning November 5th, which was eighteen
days alter her cal ring, this cow was tested
by the Indiana Jersey Cattle Breeders' As
sociation with the following result: Yield
of milk by weight, 544 pounds 13£ ounces:
yield of butter, 24 pounds 11 ounces. She
was milked three times daily, and led at
each milking as follows : Six and one
half pounds of corn meal and lour pounds
bran each day, seven ears of corn on three
days, five pounds cooked potatoes on two
days ; eight pounds beets one day, eight
pounds turnips one day, and short blue
grass for pasture. This means an average
of twenty-five quarts of milk and three
and a half pounds of butter per day.

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