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Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, June 04, 1885, Image 1

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Volume xix.
Helena, Montana, Thursday, June 4, 1885.
No. 29
<ri|rlilecltlii Hjerald.
Puh1i*ktrn und Frupriilor ».
largest Cireulaticn cf any Paper in Montana
Rates of Subscription.
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l <*»
rule will In*
Our Yen; - in nilvaiic«
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Three Month«, in »lr»n«-i.
Whin not i , »!il for in wIviih« th
F..ur Iiollar« per jr« - *rJ
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it mm riher«. delivered tiy « - *rTie r,|l Via mouth
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ihould hr addressed to
»K BKOS., Publishers,
Helena, Montana
«,-Hr< h Im-li nmndi' i heart, »nU llifrr,
• .raven with the Iriidirmt ««.re,
t on will tiinl th« - «e letter« thre« -
l.inkeii in blea we ii trinity—
Honored. loved, ami h« - « - «h«l well.
Honored more than tonifiw »'an tell,--■
(•olden ale they. K.C., I..
(.real i* this Fraternity —
ItroodiiiK a'cr the fllieht of year«,
Horn of lov e for yon and me.
Horn of hattle and of tear»,
The«« - ar* they who «t<a*«l the te«t
When the « hariciliK column» pittt
Won the..* fame, and are at rest.
« 'liwrity !—a gracions spell
Wrought in «lay» of «loom ami dread.
\\ hen they *to*«|»e«l t«» li« - arkeii well
VV hat a «lyiliK «ouirade «aki —
For th«- wive* and orphan« far,
Shivering in the hlaat* of war;
Kor ihr »hatten«) *»n* - » that are.
l.oy»lty '—'twaa tlieir« l«> »h«»w
What are faith and fealty,
I p« ard where the bugle* olow
» in the hight» of Victory ;
I pward from the gloom of night,
l .otii (tie clamor of the tight,
I'«, the lilase of Fre« - «l«»n»» light.
« 'omradee—ye wlm«e heart« are «eal««l
To the glorious trinity—
We our reverent homage yield.
Lift the liai and la-inl the knee !
Honor to whom honor'« due.
Honor to the loyal Blu«\—
Honor love, for me ami you '
t| \ IT.lt IIOMIKOS \.
lSct-au«e of oil« - dear infant head
With K«d«ien hair.
To m« - ail little liea«l«
\ halo wear.
And for une «aintly fa« - «- I know.
All hatie« ar* fair.
lUi-anse of two w ide. earnest eye»
Of he»\«-lily blue,
\\ inch look« - «! with yearning gaze
Mv -ail «oui thronith.
All ryi~- imw till mine own w ilh tee-»
W hate ere tin ir hue.
Ke« aii«auf little death-marker lip«.
Which <aue «ltd «-all
My name ln J» ainttv« - t*in«*«.
No voices fall
I pou my « - ar« in vain appeal
From «Inhlren «mall.
Tw«i little IihihI« liehl In my own
I.oug. lung ago.
N«>w cause me u« I wander thro«ia>.
Tin« world *>f woe.
To ela»p each liaby hand »lr« - tclied out
In fear *>f foe.
The lowe«t cannot plea*! in vain,
I loved him »o.
A little while ago «h«- hehl
Them* dower» in her ham! ;
% sweeter bunch there never grew
ln all th* - «Ummer tand.
,**h. - !..itching, lightly to her Up*
Their dewy splendor pressed—
The musk - of her voice I« gone,
11» melody at rest
A little while ago her eye».
8oft-«hining, »ought uiy own.
Ah, such a little while! vet now
Their happy light i« flown.
The world may »till •«* gre«-n ami fair.
Or white with w int« - r's «now.
Vet. in h« - r absence, I forget
All but that »«miner glow.
The flower« are faded, yet they
of more than summer lle«l
They «peak «.f gentle gra«e
Tlie «tear one that l* dea«l
Her mctn. ry ia a living rose.
My day»ii perfume» till.
11 « fragrant leaves no »torio
Nor « inter wind eau chill.
that crowned
tn blow,
When to «««ft «l«*ep *v- give ourselves away,
And in a «Irvarn as in a fairy l>ark
I »rift on ami «»n ihrough the enchanted dark
To purple dayhr. uk, little tiioiighl we pay
l'o tlial »»*.«•• .-hitt* - r worlil we know hv
We are «-:« - »« «|Uit *»f il. as is a lark
»O high m heaven to human eye may mark
The thin, »wift pinion «-leaving through the grnv
Till vve awake ill-fate «-an <lo no ill.
Tb« re«tlng heart «hall not take up again
Th. lx-avy load that yet mu«t mak« - it bleed ;
For this brief «pace the loud world » voice 1»
No faintest echo of it bring» u* P"*" - , , , .
How will it l*e when we »halt »Uwp imle««l .
(From the Pirat«-».)
When llie |*a»«n»{« - rcoi»«lm - t'>r»<lui»*«•oiidix-ting
-«loiu - «smdurtiiiK
Mr lov« - » U» take a 'acureion to Um* w« - »!.
-to the vs«l.
A »»«I while bis health »ii«I mimt he's r*eon»tn»ct
u '*
»■«■coustr acting.
Me «itiafl» the \ mtag« - rare of Philip Heal,
— Philip He«.«.
H« - 1 »ring« »long til* »«ter »»»<! hi* cww
- an«l his cousin
And lie make» the omm* a.»«l merriest <»f inn.
— est of fun.
Taking all tonsideraUoM by the 4 mm
- hr the dozen
The coaductM*» hfe is uo unhappy one.
liappy one. -
— Miniieapohê T<
♦ ---—
•'Isn't It windy?" »»>•• Un t«»!iy.
P» 1» hu»> . thcrel«>re rough,
•Ta t H blow." he answered sharply,
• Till it's blow « and biown enough,
liaby' '« «lient for a «e*»«n*f ;
TIh - ii »he *»y», "It * laming pa.
"I^-t it rain.'' be answers brusquely.
"1 was going to, papa.
».rant and Napoleon.
It is the custom of all great soldiers to
visit the tomb ot Napoleon wk*n they are
in l'aris. «.len. Giant was an exception to
the rule He regarded the mighty Emper«>r
w,th honor, and daring his stay in Fans
coulil uot be persuaded to visit the great
ctm«|ueror's last resting place. Grant
viewed the First Napoleon as a murderous
monster, uu«l l'elt u«> more interest in his
emblazoned cenotaph than he would have
felt in the sepulchre of an ordinary bn
tauiL flic i'Undor ot the Foreman»
, arcer failed to dazzle the plain republican
He telt only abhorrence for the
••' •.-■■' ~ i,,».,i
man «hu sa> turned millions_ l ' ^ ' n
ambition and dominion. >rat I
Translated from the German of H««wnthel Honni,
hy Madame de Hupen.
Liz/ie Castor had lor several seasons l»ecn
considered the proudest l»eauty in New
York. She owed thiadtstin« tion not merely
to her external tpptuucr. although her
tall, majestic ligure, huge. dark. im[>erial
eye*, ana characteristic rosy mouth, tully
warranted nach a reputation. It wan chiefly
due, however, to her cold, reserve«l teni
|»erainent, the haughty, distant manner
which she specially maintained towaid all !
the masculine world
While Lizzie Castor was always amiable
and kind to women, for men. and especially
the youths who overwhelmed her with
their homage, she had merely an ironical
cough and cold, sarcastic words. She
scarcely extende«! the tip* other lingers to
her ardent admirers, treating them with
the most careless indifférence, ami yet.
amongst these eager suitors, there were
many wealthy, handsome, and talented
men, whom any other girl would gladly
have accepted as an excellent jxtrh — and
Lizzie Castor was already twenty-three
years otage.
Miss Castor had indeed some cause tor
pride. Her lather controlled millions. He
was one of the leading politicians of the
city, lie conducted a princely house, com
manded several thousand workmen, and
controlled all sorts of political appoint
Lizzie had receive«! a most superior edu
cation. She spoke lour languages, and was
a talented dHUinute in all the arts. Nature
ha«l bestowed upon her repial gifts of mind
and person. Nevertheless this mental
superiority coaid not l»e the cause, so society
justly saitl, of her indifference toward men.
This was contradicted hy her other «piali
ties. They decided therefore that Lizzie
carried in the depths of her hear», an uu
fortunate love. That the one whom she
loved was indifferent to her, and that there
fore her h« - art was entirely dead to all
others. This rumor connected her name
with that of .lohn iKdistm. a very peculiar
man who hail formerly l»een a frequent
guest in the Castor home, although the
the goesipn could m»t really determine
whether he was include«! in the list of,
Lizzie's admirers. 1 Hibson had liecome very
rich through speculations m silver mining.
He had the reputation of Wing an incredi
bly successful business man He said little,
and acte«l with caution au«l deliberation.
Was rejkiee itself. Nothing rutiled his com- !
po«ure, and whatever he undertook in his
cool, resolute manner, he invariably brought
to a successful end.
John Dobson was n> Finger a young
man. Hewaaabnöt thirty years of age.
He neither danced, smoked, drank, or
gambled, ami his manner toward women
was such that none could from it feel en
couraged in the hope that he wished to he
included amongst their admirers. He was
djoally courteous to all. His conversation
was earnest, and displayed a clear intellect,
and remarkably keen power of observation,
as well as much brightness of imagination.
He could truly say, however, that he had
never held more than a five minute»' con
versation with any woman, Lizzie excep
ted. To her he addre.aed many of his
quiet, delil*erate remarks, and Lizzie list
ene«l to him with wide- peued, sparkling
, .«- sin- evidently uni - nt to him. so far
as her pride would permit, and showed to
him, in her own peculiar manner, the more
womanly part of her nature—and yet he
suddenly ceased to be numbered amongst
the gues'a at the Castor home, and was
noticeably al»*ent from all places where
Lizzie wa«' to be met.
"Something must have occurred between
them," said so« iety. and society was right
something had occurred.
One morning Dolison was announced to
Lizzie at an unusual hour. He looke«l at
her squarely and tirmly in t'ie eyes, and
said, "Miss Lizzie, you would be no woman,
had you not discovered how I stand toward
you It has seemed to me that you feel
more interest in me than in the o'her ad
mirers who surround you. I ofl'er you my
hand, heart, aud fortune. Can you resolve
hand, heart, aud fortune. Can you resolve
to share my home ?"
Lizzie looked at him scornfully. She did
did not take hand which he extended, hut
drew Wk and with whitening face, flam
ing eyes, ami trembling lips, said, excit
edly :
"No; Never! Never!"
Dobson said nothing. H»* looked at her
in surprise. He had leoonc somewhat
paler than liefore, but was as tranquil, cool,
and composed as ever.
Lizzie be«-ame still paler, and her breast
heaved convulsively.
"Ten thousand feet under the ground
will I become your wife," she said, with a
derisive cough. "Yes." sh«, continued.
trembling with anger. "If we should ever
* . ... a . a •
meet ten thousand feet Wneath the ground,
theu repeat your öfter. Then offer me your
baud, and I will accept it, John Dohaon,
concluded Lizzie, as her eyes flashed with
passionate excitement.
A momentary expression of satisfaction
shone upon Dobson s face, and about his
month played a humorous smile, but a
second ! He was again as «-aim and un
ruffled as ever.
' You are in earnest. Miss Castor
I swear J--
"I have your promise," he answered, and
withdrew with a profound and courteous
When he had gone. Lizzie ran to her
room, threw herself upon her bed. and
burml her face in the pillows to stifle the
sound of her sobs, for she had loved him
warmly, passionately, wildly, as only she
could love, and !ove«l him still. She had
rejec ted him because his comj*osure and
manly dignity, offended her deeply.
She had hoped to see him, as lover, at
her feet, like all her other suitors. That
humility which she despised, yes. hated
fee "ten tbouäand feet under the earth
ear it." said Lizzie, wit ? pressing lips,
■ - « a^lI'-Aontained
sign that h.s ' ra ^ ,:e^charm
manhood was conquered tiy ner «nanus.
in them she yet desired from this mau,
binge«! for it with all the power of her
anient proud heart. She would have
tbrown herself joyfully into his arms, had
h« - hut w.ied her, whispered flattering words
m her car hut for one hoar, have shown
himselt the eager woer, the lover. She
would have given her life for one warm
glance from his eyes, for one kiss ot the
hand, for a moment's weakness, for one
nns ttnm from him. of that homage
with which others overwhelmed her : but
. « 0 f a ii this did she obtain from him.
longings, these eravings which
months consume«! her heart.
Against this love, so it seemed to Lizzie,
he maintained an opposing indifference,
and displayed an air of security like a
basilisk, who having « harmed a small bird,
awaits to devour it. at his good pleasure.
This bird be would not lie. Hesbotild find
himself deceive«! in this confident secimty.
and thus, when without sufficient pream
ble as Lizzie thought, he abruptly made
his offer, there burst forth the long smould
ering flame of passion and anger which
Lizzie expre»s«*«l. as we have seen, in her
own peculiar manner.
After thin eventful morning Lizzie was
even paler than liefore, her lips more firmly
compressed, and her manner more distant
and haughty. Her father would gladly
have welcom«*«! John Dobson as his son-in
law He knew nothing of the partii-ulars
of the rejection from either the rejected
suitor «ir his daughter, although he sus
pectetl the true position of affairs, and one
day thus approach«*d the subject :
"])ob«on comes no more to our house,"
he ««aid to Lizzie. "You must have had a
quarrel "
"Why should we quarrel," said Lizzie,
with icy coldness.
• He is an honorable, noble, wealthy mau,
w hom 1 would have preferred to all others
as your husband," he said, with more feel
ing than he usually displayed.
"He has a mole on his loft cheek, re
sponded Lizzie, flippantly.
"It is not the mole that parts yon." he
said, haiking steadily at his daughter, w ith
keen, jienetrating eyes. "It is not like you
to reject a man like Ikdisou, lie« ause of a
mole. It is the vanity and arrogance of
your stublsirn heart, which prompts your
refusal of so noble a man. You make your
self unhappy," continued the sharp-sighte«l
father. "It grieves me for your own sake,
as well as that of I)obson."
Thereupon father and daughter sjioke no
more of the matter. Mr. Castor, however,
maintained outside his own home a more
intimate friendship with the rejected suitor
than ever before, au«i as for Dobson, he was
as unrulfle«! aud appeared as well contented
w ith the world and himself as formerly.
And Lizzie? Could oue have glanced
into the depths of her heart, they would
have seen beneath her apparent prnle ami
coldness, a hot fire of love smouldering lie
neath the waves of despair and regret,
which Hissed her soul-vain regrets for the
lost love of one whose worth she now began
to recognize; whose maniy. «iignitied. re
nunciation. ami fidelity, (lor he approached
no other woman, compelled her respe«-t,
and strengthened the passion which she
would gladly have thrust from her.
Thus passed two years. During all thus
time. IHihson scrupulously avoided Miss
< astor, aud yet it surprised some of the
keen-eyed oliservere. and some of these are
always to lie found in society, that in spite
of this apparent avoidance, he evidently
hovered upon the out-skirt* of those circles
in which Lizzie moved, although his cool,
•juiet surveillance of her movements was
conducted so imjierceptibly that few would
have remarked it.
Then iHjlison suddenly departe«! for the
Old World. He undertook a pleasure trip,
! they were at the dinner table,
T will not conceal from y
and a few weeks later it was said that Mr.
Castor would also make a trip to Europe.
The rumor was correct. One day Castor
broached the subject to Lizzie.
"I propose to make a summer tour to
London, I'ans, Naples, and soon," he said
in his usual curtj matter-cf-fact manner, as
ou, be con
tinued, "that Ikdison is now ever there, and
has invited me to follow him. We need
not necessarily be together throughout the
entire trip, hut a meeting with him will lie
quite proliable, in fact, unavoidable, and 1
therefore question whether you will wish
to accompany me.''
Luzie Warne pale, and then a blush
sutt'used her face, but aft« - r a moment's re
flection, she answered :
"I will accompany you. papa. Europe is
large. We will not be always together,
and 1 do not fear a meeting w ith Dolison.
Over Castor's hard, immovable counte
nance, there flitted a momentary expres
sion of satisfaction, yes. even of suppressed
Lizzie di«l not remark it. 1'or she gazed
steadily out at the large, soft clouds, float
ing in the heavens, as she endeavored w ith
all her strength tocontrol the violent throb
bing of her heart.
When alone in her boudoir, she sighed
from the depths of her sou), and in her
staring, passionate eyes, «ame a look of
pain, then their fire softened, her lips quiv
ered, and the proud lieauty wept silently.
"1 love him to-day, as I have for years,"
she said in her heart, "but 1 can never be
bis. There stands between us a vow, and
never will 1 so humble myself as to show
him that 1 regret the words J have spoken.
He will not ask me to retract my words.
These two years prove that he accepts my
* - - t — * atkaMniuA La ■■■ / tu 1 si L A (■ A a/VIK»ilt
decision, otbewvise he would have sought
me again. There have been abundant op
portuaities. I have hy my own folly, j
vanity, and caprice, lost the happiness of
my life. But I will see him again, per
haps speak to him, linger near him, and
that now seems to me a great happiness,
even though it lie mingled with pain."
Thu* spoke despair, regret, and resigned
hope, in this girl's passionate heart.
American-like, Castor acted quickly upon
his resolutions, and three weeks later found
him with his daughter in Faria, where they
j * '" l ' I ' w ~ *
were soon joined by Doloon. The two
men were often together, and Lizzie occa
sionally met Dobson.
These meetings, however, were but flit
ing. They wandered together a few hoars
through the I>oavre. He was friendly,
courteous, and composed as ever, and Liz
zie. a prey to her violent emotions, her
heart throbbing wildly, under the pressure
of her over-mastering feelings, peserved an
appearance of stiffness aud inditference.
IHihson left Faris and traveled south
ward. Castor, also, not finding the French
capital sufficiently attractive to detain him
longer, quietly turned in the same dim
In Luzerne, l)ot>«ou again met the Cas
tore aud they chanced to select the same
hotel. Lizzie sat beside I Hibson at the
dinner-table, and she steeleil her heart lie
vastor rejoineu mai ue nau aisu unenueu
to make the same trip on the ame day,
and that therefore they would probably lie
fore the unvarying «-ourtesy, the unrutlLd
friendship of this man whom she so des
pairingly loved. IHihson remarked that
ii]ion the following morning he propose«! to
try the newly Cot hard openefl road to
Castor rejoined that he had also intemled
1 Hibson »»owed jiolitely. but without any
apparent excitement, or evidence that this
information gave him any special degree of
Lizzie looked silently at her plate, aud as
she listem-d to her neigblior's lively con
versation, struggled hard to suppress her
The next morning they starte«l ujiou
their trip.
The train was crowded, ami as our trav
elers could not obtain a seat together,
Dolison seated himself at the end of the
car, where he quietly peruse«! his railway
The Hain .«ped on, past wo«h1s and fields,
over bridges aud viaducts, the Cothard.
with its iceliergs. «Irew near, au«l th«y
finally arrive«! at Cosebueur.
There the train stopped. The locomotive
was « hanged. The lamps were lightetl .u
the car. A long puff, the sound of various
large and small ele«'tric 1 »elIs. and the tram
rushed into the gigantic eartheru wall,
which, rising seven thousand feet, towers
its ice-clad summits toward the clouds,
aud divides tiermau from Italian laud
lue excitement of the passeugers was in
tense. The temperature arose, aud the
at-first clearly burning lamps, now sent
forth a reddish light, which gave to the car
a most weird and gloomy ap)iearauce.
The passage lasted lorty minutes. Twen
ty minutes had (lassed in the breathless
silence of the pa»s* - ugers while they were
in the mouutaiu, and still ouwurd rushed
the iron steed, shaking the rolling ear.
Then something strange occurred.
A gentleman, who. until uow, had re
mained quietly seated, arose, and walkmg
through the car. stopped at the place where
Mr. Castor sat with his daughter, who was
closely veiled.
It was John Dnlwou who had left his
He stooil liefore Lizzie, and said in a
loud, clear voice :
"Miss Lizzie, we are uow ten thousand
feet under the ground. I rememWr your
promise. 1 oiler yon my hand, heart, and
fortune. «Vil I you lie my wife?"
There was a strauge pause. The red
lights threw flu kermg gloom« ihrough the
• ar. lighting his tall figure. He ha«l »jaiken
in English, and there were many English
people in the car. hut apparently the «»ther
passenger« had un«ler»t«**l him, for they all
arose Irom their «eats and looke«l in amaze
ment at this eccentric stranger, and the
young lady, to whom these words were
addressed, lireathlesslv they listened, to
.««•e how this sträng« - adventure would ter
The scene ended m quite as singular aud
surprising a manner as it had liegun.
1 he young lady rose from her seat, flung
both arms around bis neck. aud. with
trembling voice, whispeied in his ear -
"I will, a thousand, ten thousand time*,
lie you re."
Suddenly a long whistle sounded. The
daylight commenced to shine in the car.
The strange «eene wa« lorgotteu. amt the
| |ia»«engers riishtsl to the windows to see
the exit fnnu >he tunnel.
The traiu stopped, and when the passen
gers, remembering this adventure, turned
to look at the actors in this original drama,
merely their vacant »eats were to lie s^en,
as they had quickly left the car.
Lut they cauuht a glimpse of the blue
veil of the young lady, as «he vanished lie
hind the walls ol'Mc Albrrut ili lar iioturilu
in ltiriola.
The traiu spe<l on, going further into
'Italian land.
The traiu spe<l on, going further into
Mr. Castor, together with his daughter
and iHihson. took a short walk.
Lizzie, leaning on Dobson s arm. walke«l
a little in advance, while Castor seemed to
take a remarkable interest in the stone
"And yon have thought of this for two
whole yeare?" asked Lizzie, in a blissful
"From the moment in which yon spoke
of the ten thousand 1'eet under the earth. I
built my hopes upon this hour, and have
waited with anxious longiugs for the open
ing of the new road."
"Ami yon. then, relied so securely upon
my word ?" again asked Lizzie.
"I kuew your character an«l relied upon
your word,iiecause I firmly believed that you
had rejecteil me, merely through pride anil
vexation at my over-confidence. That must
have offended you so I reflected, for 1 felt
that you loved me, and therefore it seemed
to me impossible that you should always re
pulse me. aud these two yeare in which you
have reluse«l many offers but confirmed
my «ipimon and strengthened me in my
faith and trust."
"And so you have left me in my pain,
and watched for this opportunity," said
Lizzie, pouting, like any other sensitive
"Not watched, but waited." answered
Dobson. "1 believed sincerely that bad I
again approached you 1 would have l »een
and then I would have re
again rejected, and then I would have re
mained forever a solitary man. Hut I had
your promise and could rely «-onlidently
• » * ■ A a - - ? ... 1 J a«Aa- a*
upon "it, for I knew your pride would never
permit you to break your word. At the
moment that you sarcastically spoke of the
ten thousand feet under the earth I seized
upon the idea as the means by which I
could win you."
"You are a terrible man," said Lizzie,
with a happy look at her lover.
"Not more terrible than yourself, Lizzie.
You have for two years given me no word
or glance of hope, therefore 1 have waited
patiently for a couple of yeare and allowed
yon to pout. During that time you have
learned to know your own mind, and I
have ac<|uired a million dollars, so that we
can now live a life of leisure where we
wish, and as it pleases us, out of gratitude
to good Father Gothard. our second father
in-law. right here in IHriolo," concluded
Dobson, with his own peculiar dry humor.
"But 'te will firet continue our journey
to Milan." interrupted Castor, who having
this moment joined the happy pair, over
head the last remark.
"I have no desire to form a third uarty
in this sentimental summer excursion, ' he
said decidedly.
"Naturally, papa." answered the lovers,
"But do you know," said Lizzie, solemn
ly, "there yet lacks three thousand feet of
the ten thousand. Goschun and the tun
nel lie about three thousand feet over the
sea, as I remember to have read in tuy
guide-book. Therefore I yet lack three
thousand feet, and so if you do not conduct
yourself well, I can make that deficiency
valid ground for a separation."
*N»h, yonr reckoning is not correct, re
turned lH>bson, laughingly. "1 know there
yet lacks three thousand feet, bat as an
accurate old trader, I well know how to
earn and make goo«l the deficiency . The
liargain is closed, and we are quits.
In Lome, where the Castors soon arrived,
accompanied by iHdison in his character ot
the American colony residing there
were aurprise«! to see in the Herald the an
nouncement of the approaching union !*■
tween the houses of Castor and lH»l*»on.
% Few Reason* Whv.
i Washington Hatchet
Why does a bucking mustang back ?
Back-cause he doe*.
Why does a mouutaiu look grand ?
l*eak-cause it doe*.
Why do ragpicker« ply their calling?
Whv, pick-cause it pays.
Why i* a crowded street car never full ?
|ie-«are—give it up.
Why are craft-apples sour? <*b, lie
cores thev i*.
Why does the hawthorn »»ear fruit ? Big
haws it does.
Why does the pot-house voter get
«lriiiik ? IU*er cause hedoesu t have to pay
for the tlnuks.
Why do mendicants solicit alms? Beg
cause— oh. well, beg-cause.
Why «loes a ship sometimes drag her
anchor'? Bic-hawser anchors too «mall,
of course.
Why do chickens eat grain ? Peck
can«c it li«*« easy on their craws, to lie sc re.
Whv i* the Capitol building admired?
Big-house it is.
Why <lo bogs wallow in mud-puddloa?
Pig-cause they have so little nauddy-sty.
Why do dog« bark ? Big-cure the tail
don't wag the «log.
I nrl Pretzel'» Alrocitie«.
What is worse than raining pitchtoiks ?
Hailing st reel-« are.
It takes the exit of a very large man to
make a hole in the world.
Why is the letter D like a squalling child?
Because it make« ma mad.
Young ladies who will mit marry when
they have a chance, Miss it.
Why are large women always ugly ?
Because they are hardly passable.
When ignorance is bliss, it is folly to ask
the landlady what she puts m the hash.
Wbat one word will name the common
parent of Iwiih la-asts ami men ? A dam.
What wonl is there ot five letters that
by taking away two letters leave« but one'
What is the ditferemT lief ween a )>ee ami
a donkey ? One gets the honey and the
other gets the whacks.
He Wanted a Dozen "NlffH."
iSt. lasii« Fritie.l
One of the New Mexicau delegates to
the cattle convention went into a Fourth
street restaurant, sat down at one of the
table* and hung his hat on the castor
"Waiter !" he shotrted. "bring me a dozen
steers !"
"How do you want 'em ?" the trembling
waiter inquire«!.
"1 want 'em raw. aud 1 want 'em quick.
"It will take about two hours to fill your
order, sir," said the waiter.
"Why will it?" «lemamle«! the cattle
"Because we never keep as much as one
steer on hand at a time, and I will have to
telephone to the st«* - k yards for th« - m
"laiokee here, you don't know what kind
o' steers I want, do you ?"
"I am afraid I don't, sir." «aid the waiter.
"What kind do you desire ?
"Why, I want oy-steere. and you've got
'em, for I see 'em on the counter there.
F.«ciip»* Irom
The fair llementia «ame running into
the house almost out of breath and threw
herself on the lounge.
"Why. what's the matter, <lear ?" asked
her loving mother.
"Oh!—oh!—I'm nearly frightened to
death !"
"What has iirightene«l you ?"
"A—a—a cow nearly hooked me to—to
death !"
"Why, you don't tell me! When and
how did it happen, daughter?"
"Why, I—I was coming along on this
side of the street, down there a piece, ami
—ami right across the stieet there was a
cow : ami when she saw me she looked
right at me ami came near hookin' me.
"Well, dear, lie down and rest. You are
only frightened. A cow couldn t hook you
clear across the street, you know.
"Oh— yea—it could, if it had horns: but
it was a tnooly cow,or I'd lieen dead now.
I know."
On the Sale Side.
jlH-troit Free l*r«*»».l
"Well?" he queried as he turneil around
in his chair.
"Yes, sah— I wante«l to spoke to you a
minit," replied the old man as he hung in
the door.
"All right, come in. Ah ! you are Moses.
"Yes, sah. IauF y'ar, de day tiefo' Christ
mas. you—you presented dis ole man wid
a turkey."
"So I did—so I did. I remember the
circumstance now."
" 'Zactly, sab. I called to say dat in
"You want to know if 1 am going to pre
sent yon with another turkey this year?"
"Dat 's 'hont de size of it, sab."
"Yes— um. Well, perhaps. '
"Dat 's wbat I reckoned on, sah, an I
was gwine to remark dat las' y'ar you for
got de oysters an' crackers to stuft' it wid,
an' I had to go an' sell dat bird fur fo'y
cents an' put de money into pork."
This and That.
A Michigan couple were married one
day and divorced the next. She had fad
luck with her firet pie.
A"An American Mairiage." is the title of
a new play. The scenes of the last act are
likely laid in Cnicago.
There is a big d ft'erence lietween pot
luck and Ja« k j»ot luck. There is any
amount of difference in the latter.
"Hullo. Bill. Wat yer doin' these days?"
''I'm a private night watchman. Wat re
yon doin'?" "Oh. Fm a burglin', too."
'nquirer asks: "Why is it that so manv
gs have fleas ?" To lie perfectly hones't
it is because there are so many
we think
Yon cannot always judge a man's char
acter by the clothes he wears. Sometimes
the linen is worth a great deal more than
the furniture which it covers.
Tv tt/ Fcvri'l'litv »
[ I IlOl S h K h h l i N 1.1
Sumr t «ani|>te» «>( Cory H»m« - « in «mall
«»uarlsr* lu V» l«»rk.
c* •m*K|s «luten« «*. j
New York. A|ml 3Ü. — Hom-ekis-ping in
noms «lue* u«»t promise niurti comfort to
perxm« who live in half grown or overgrown
town*. They picture it a« thev have Uie
frequently ««-en it—a crowded, inconv* - ni. - nt,
untidy, illv-ventilate 1 exist«-me, a ( - ram|«d
compromise between raw poverty ami tlie
bur«t« - rlu!i<i «>f respectability. All that and
worse it often i*. when attempt««! wh« - re there
ar« - neither material ««mveuieurvs u«»r man
agerl-ti «kill t«i ke» - p it from falhug nit«, un
wgbthiu-s.. But in New York one fuels it
jiei-Hs - :««! into an art, atel by no iim-iuis a low
pL*-* - • f art, « - ith« - r.
Here th« - whole tendency i« t«i compactness
an« I «laintiaes*. It needs the hnn.l of an artist
to bring tn« - « rud« - complication* «»? h««i»«*
kt-eping dow n to a miniature comi*»-- aiul
sthl keep the gl«»«of neatness and attractive
ne*s thereon. The <4d «aw says that any
lady «an work with plenty of tools, but ouly
the expert workman mu prod me somethiig
excellent with few tools. LHith, samegronnis
it might U said that anyb-dy can keep h«aise
nicely w ho Ijis plenty of room to «»jierate in,
but «»uly u genius can k««*p house Is-autifully
in «mail quarter*. Here su< - h getiiu««-» are
tumid. The crowded ruiditiuB *»f the city
I d» v«-l< '|>s t In in.
!t is wonderful wnat results in the way <»f
cosy home» can be obtained in the most uu
promi-m .' qtiart-r« are! wuh the most in« x
i<ei«s,v«- adjuncts wle n a t a st efu l and «killful
i.Hiid dirts'»« matter«. H«Mi«eke*q»ing as well
a.» everything els* - can la* simplitksl, refined
and beautified. Th« - «lisagreeable featur« - «of
it. th« - 1u»s and flurry at*! clatter which w.i*
om - * - <sin»i«ler««l a wsewary }*»rt o: it by
4 umv «,f th« - rush-and-burry order of turns*»
...-rs, have ».een tborougtnv éliminât* - , I oy
«he nee«!' *,f thm big citv. where spa«-c u
m<>re valuaole than anything «-Is* - .
I sometime* wniter what one of th<* «»Ul
fashion «1 housekeepers, who went tbr«.ugh
th* lay at a breakneck pace uni thought in
cessant work her great**»! glory, would tlnnk
if sh* «xiukl enter some little g«-m of a New
York flat, no bigger than an old-time kitchen
would L'if divided into oo»n|«rtmeuts, and
tK-e h«,w smoothly roll the wh« - , - ls of tie - men
op«/ She wouldn't aupruve >»f it. of «-nun* - ,
because tliere is no fuss and hurrah alsnit it
—Bone of the sign* of hard work, which »ht
wor-hqied. and -in riticeil her time to. and
ma«l. every b*dy around her uuminfortHb*
rlsjut. N<>. there is n«*tie of that in th • p**r
/*cte«i system of housekeeping as we e» it
here, where comfort, beauty au*l roaines*
join hands to make three or four room- into
a home.
1 have a fri«*n«l whose little home «if three
room« is m<av exquisite in its atmosph* re «»f
refine I coinfort than any elegant mansion
1 ever entered. She "due* her own work,"
f«.r that i* «»ns of the beaut;«*» and pleaNaret
of the condense l sy«tern of btnisekeeping—
no servant t«» bring disorder into the little
bower of home under pretense of "d< >ing tl»<
work." Th« - "work" in this case isn't difti
cult. I«cause, although she aud h*r big son,
who occupy all three room», have eveiy
comfort they need, her ability to plan un
crringly and execute skillfully and s|«*elily
ia so great, and the convenience* for rack a
style of living so numerous here, that tin
actual lalsT is only enough to interest her.
Heing a |ors«»ii of fine education, much cul
ture aisl extraordinary taste, when riche»
t<«.k unto themselve* wiug« au«l flew - away,
the knew how to rob Poverty «>f his external
hideousness. Only an artist could so «•tfect -
ivelv reconcile these two mortal ewmies.
B«ai'.tv and Poverty, and get g«*<d servie»
from both.
g How d< * ■» «he manage to get much <>ut of
little t -nine one asks, by being painstaking
by bringing t«> the work of hai wnkin g «n
much interest, thought and ability a« «Ir
would bring to the work of writing a poem,
pain* ing a picture or rcnd« ring the h-aitiug
rôle iu <>|« ra. ha«l »h** Isseu boni a writer,
painter or «inger. She takes pride in hei
work, aud the results justify it. S«.n»«
women are a-hamtd of doing housework »»
their own h ,- i ,-s. If they Co »k a meal, or
try to, they feel d«*gra«l«*l and injur«*l most
likelv. and wm«l up by getting irritable and
in«ult somebody while they are eating it.
The truth is, efficiency iu any u«* - ful diwtmn
should cultivate self-res-pect, ar.d i» bound to
command the respe« t of «»there: ard when a
woman bring* intelkvtual ability to the
work of housekeeping, instead of the work
degrading her she retin««« it.
But I mast tell you how my friend's home
of three loom* is arranged. It is the **utire
lop flour of a house, not a flat. The lai'gest
room is the sitting room aud her own bed
chamber, the inevitable and somewhat orna
mental upright folding bed doing heroic
duty as a nas lia tor between «-omfort and
"looks' sake." The floor is cmrpet««d with
fre«h and pretty colored matting, with a
bright rug in the middle. There are «oft,
cream-col« .red curtains, inexpensive but
most tastefully banded and looped with
warm-tinted satin and ribb««». There are
odd bit* 'of furniture that tit well iu odd
plaie*, a few easy chair*, and a g«««l broad,
cornforTable lounge. There is a small East
lake Lokca-e full of bo«>ks; there are a few, a
I very few. good picture*, and a small nutn
I ber of ornaments. The entire furnishings cf
the room would sell for a song, a* the say
ing is, but everything is so immaculately
clean, and arranged by such a deft and
tasteful hand, that th« - effect i* that of ner
feet harmony, sweetm-ss und cfaeerinres.
The wall* are }>apere<l with pale yeHow and
cream color*, w hich light up «lay or night,
and add to the summery atmosphers which
it> a part of that room winter or summer.
The *e* - < >ii<i large room is divided into two
compartments by m«**n* of tb«- u*« - f«il au«l
picturesque portit'ire. < Hie-half is the s*m's
bednsnu. which is a* dainty as a doll's house;
the other *« convert««! into a kit« hen, » hi«-h
might l> - mistaken fora mimic cook-room.
•*? ni, ' , lv *• l11 - u ' 1 " ,1 - i,, - s -
Its ru!Ktr -* ">' e ventilation, u* wefl
as to oth« r things. The cooking is all d««uo
a gas stove han<Lome enough to a« lorn a
parlor, nrxl loud -mclls of fries ami br«»ils are
unknown th -- re.
Tli* - thinl n **m — a narrow hall room,
which soin«- bou se ke ep er s would scarcely
know what to do with—is conve.Ted into _
dining r«> in. ««• wonderfully attractive that
one never sit» down in it without marvel in: t
- ,
that human ingenuity «»>uUl bring such a
picture of «s »infort and ls*auty out of sa> - h
meagre materials. Alai the meals that are
spread there, though always simple, are ex
quisit« - . c tnibiaing the ;ierf«*« , ti«»n <>f ««»•king
with tl»* - ilamtb-st serving. Au«l it is all <!■ >i:e
without any a[»|»**uran«s - of fu»« *>r worry.
The big « >ti lias been taught lmw t«> he!p »a
vari«*u* ways, ami this little home, kept up
ou a minimum of inouey and a max «ni uu of
skill, is a. » example <>f the fact tha* a tanne
rest* n - >t upon a solid monetary fouudatinu
T«> l»e «ure. nt> coarse w< rk like washing is
done there, nor w«»ul<l tliere Is* nnv **•• >iiomv
in having it «loue there, in n«> | la«e. m l an
or suburban, is washing «Ion * letter or
cheai>er tliau here. The compel .tion in that
line of lal«»r is great.
Hoinels-lv once *anl of this lo«lv: "If there
i* any j»» - try in housttkeepiug Mr*, t*. w ill
fin«! it." What a pity «»there do not find it
al«o. Yet -he is not an isolat««lex>e|»t o.ib« - iv.
I know many women e«|ually artistic m keep
ing house in small quarter*. 1 re* a!I «me wb«.
ha* a chat tiling littb- flat of flve lo in-, and
«h«.-* the work for a hoiisehohl «»f three la - r
self, hu-lsital ami son. The flut ha-« every
convenience nec e swarv t*» make labor ea«y.
Her kit« - lien i* <ari» - t«sl and is a* -w« - t ami
«•i «i» - r!y a* a flower garden. an<l she h hupftv
in the management of her little kingdom.
Sh« sai«l to me laughingly oue day;
"How we<lol««arn wisdomfrom experien*-e!
On« - « - 1 thought that to Uve iu rtiuiii' atm
do one's own cooking wa* ala>ut the foi lora
esi fate that is >ul«l overtake <»n« - ; an.I w hen the
<■«« «king was don« on a real oil stove «
thought th«* depth of domcMtic wredclasln* - « - -
hud l»-eu rcachre 1 . Now I am doing that
very thing. 1 « •• » >k on a ««ml oil »rf«>v« - in
rammer, and tin«l it a pleasure too, aud never
in tl* - «lay* of our financial prosperity was I
as happy a» 1 am now. Som« - thing useful Hi
do tliat one «an improve u|«*u all the time is
splrei<*i«l in««li< - ine for *i<-k souls. I have <«c
jerfected my system cf bcsi*eke«*|»ing—have
learne 1 h >w t«* tooiiomize ami have th Imst
at the sain« - time— tliat I sometime.- fee!
tempted to w rite a Imok about it. There is
so mu-h pleasure to he got out of it that I
would like to enlighten other women who
fancy that housekreping umler au>* cir« uni
stan«-«*' uiu*t be drudgery."
1 know another woman, well-known in the
world of letters, who is also an artist in
houscwiirk. Her little flat is re»iHluet««l so
smoothly that oue ra ver notiere when the
smoothly that oue ra ver notiere when the
work is done Y*et she i* h*>r own servant.
She entertains company, too, and you think
when at her table, which is always a* attna -
tive a* a "dream of fair women," that liuu»
work lias no mean phase*. L - « ause none are
visible !la«re. She does a great «l* - al of lit
etary work, as well a* her own h« tisek**ep
ing In New Y'ork there are but two meals
a «lav to serve, breakfast ami C o'clock ilinner.
Th«- l«ret part *»f th« - «lay li« - » between them.
Man'' actresHe*considertheinseIve*. favored
by the god« when they return fr<»ui a w - in tar's
travel and can rent a couple of furnished
room* ami *lo "light housekeeping'' till they
»tart out "on the r«>a«i" again. It i* the
nearest apprunch to a home and real domes
ticity that they « an have iu their unsettled
life, ami they are grateful for it, considering
it a luxury far above any phase of hotel life.
Weary of «-oDtm t with p*-ople ami sick of
indifferent (-««»king, they fiml re-st and
change in setting up these miniature e»tal>
linhiiHut* and operating th«*ui them
selves. Th* - ricb* - r <«nre reut aud fur
ui-b flat*, which* they shut up when
thev l«*ave for *h«>rt alisen« - *-* ami tlioc
oughly enjoy when they returu to the city.
Indeed, some of them have very strong <!«>
ni«-tic 1- aning«: ami if they coul«l not devise
some wav of shutting themselves awav Trenn
otts-r- for a time the attrition of life would
income uni curable.
Nowhere iu the world is then - so much
l.Tging f«»r bernes as in New York. The
boanling houses reek with homeless women,
who talk un«l plan together, day after day,
al«>ut "taking flats," or house«. <»r something
in the »ha|» - of a lionie. an«l, alas! too often
fail to even get within sight of tlx-lam I of
tb«'ir «Irreun*. Kent, furniture, re al. gas. all
these grim lions staml in th«- way aud are to
be conciliât««! «*ut of slender pocket books.
M*>n;c grow old talking aL»ut it without
ever getting a foot nearer the realization of
it. They live in all **>rU of <ranq«e«l n«>ins,
mixing with great, herd* of Lanier«, with t»
patience tliat might well be said to b« - sub
lime. They are buoyed up by th« - bof»e tliat
some day they will have a little flat *»f tbmr
own, which will he literally their castle.
Gxktki ob UkHAlno».
Hlrwi I»«mI Bl«»n«tes IH»«»iiied.
[New York Star [
Bleached hair i»duoin«îd, and the unfortun
ate- who have lately acquired a growth wifi
be accused of bad taste au i cousitWed out
of the iiale of fa»htonable society. Kaddub
blonde, kuown as Titian red. red brown*
and delicate auburn are in constant demand.
Black and dark browns can easily be given
the desired shade, but the Ue»« h^d blond**
will have to shingle off their faded crop and
grow a natural one, and meanwhile wear a
wig or take a«i vantage of the "jockey'' mcsla
A Pointer on Child-Kalslog.
'.Rochester Himorrat I
1 was walking up Kim street the other
day wbeu 1 noticed a boy, about a years old.
playing :n a yard. He was all bun«ll«*i up,
and was about twenty feet away from the
porch of the bouse He couldn't go any
farther, as be had on a kind of a ham«. - »»
made of red flannel straps, and a rope
fastened to a poet «»f the porch wa« tied to
it. You see, all his mother had to do when
she wanted him was to pull in ou the rope.
Woman's Kortitudr.
[Chicago Ledger. I
Woman—tie»« her bright eyes—can en
dure physical suffering with more fortitude
than the stronge-t mau, and «he can uns» a
train witlxmt tilling the «lejsit with word»
that don't sound nice; but she ran t pass a
milliner's window <»r a hair store without
stopping t«> fea»t her eyes an l w. iuieriug
why she didn't reime to t««wn with a gold
spoon in her mouth.
VVlicr« - a W«»ii»hii 1 «|« - i - l* T«»'« Miirli.
[Soin**r\!ll«* Journal.)
Woman is Ler«**lf » creature of intuition,
a» every holy will a«lnut, but that's no rea
son why she should sally out on the street
with a thick drab ved-drawn u\vr . r face
away down V» her chin au«l th - i exjsx-t
every male tiemg of tier acquaintance »he
meets to recognize her half a blocs away.

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