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Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, March 22, 1888, Image 1

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L VI
111
Volume XX2.
Helena, Montana, Thursday, March 1888.
No.
ÇVitUchlü ^jcralil.
R. E. FISK 0. W. FISK. I. J. FISK
Publishers and Proprietors.
Largest Circulation of any Paper in Montana
-O
Rates of Subscription.
WEEKLY °HERALD :
One Year. (In a«lv»»nee).............................00
Wx Months, (In advance)............................... j "?
Three Months, (in advance)......................... 1
When not paid for in advance the rale will be
Four Dollars per yeaii
Postage, In all cases, Prepaid.
DAILY HERALD:
City Subscribers,delivered by carrier Jl.00a month
One Year, by mail, (in advance)................. ** rr
Hlx Months, by mail, (In advance)............... » WJ
Three Months, by mail, (in advance)........... i «1
If not paid in advance, 812 per annum.
[Entered at the Postoffice ut Helena as second
(lass matter.]
4VA11 communications should be addressed to
FISK BROS., Publishers,
Helena. Montana.
THE LILY.
How withered, perish'd seems the form
Of you ol>scure, unsightly root !
Yet from the blight of wintry storm,
It bides secure the precious fruit.
The careless eye can find no grace,
No lH-auty in the scaly folds.
Nor see within the dark embrace
What latent loveliness it hold.
Yet in that bulb, those sapless scales,
The lily wraps her silver vest,
Till vernal suns and vernal gales
Shall kiss once more her fragrant breast.
Yes hide beneath the mouldering heap,
The undelighting slighted thing;
There in the cold earth buried deep,
In silence let it wait the spring.
Oh ! many a stormy night shall close
In gloom upon the barren earth.
While still, in undisturbed repose,
L'ninjured lies the future birth.
And ignorance with skeptic eye
Hope's patient smile shall wondering view
Or mock ner fond credulty.
As her soft tears the spot bedew.
Sweet smiles of hope, delicious tear !
Die sun, the shower, indeed shall come;
The promised verdant shoot appear.
And nature bid her blossoms bloom.
And thou, O virgin queen of spring !
Shall from thy dark and lowly bed.
Bursting thy green sheath's silken string,
Unveil thy charms and perfume shed.
Unfold thy robes of purest white,
t nsullied from their darksome grave,
And thy soft totals' silvery light
In the wild breeze unfettered wave.
jio faith shall seek the lowly dust
Where humble sorrow loves to lie,
And bid her thus her hopes intrust,
And watch with cheerful, patient eye.
And bear the long, cold wintry night,
And hear her own degraded doom ;
An<l wait till heaven's reviving light.
Eternal spring 1 shall burst the gloom.
THE REASON.
"(Set married," say my friends, and I
Who've just turned thirty-four.
Join their lament and, sigh for sigh,
My loneliness deplore.
It is not that I fear to speak.
By bashfulness distressed
in fact. I'm noted for my cheek.
And know the bold are blest.
My reason then, if I must give.
Is simple, short, and clear—
I know that I can't wed and live
On half enough a year.
TO A VETERAN.
O. Patriot, would that your last hour bail come.
When, with your war-stained flag, to roll of
drum
Yon marched, 'mid men's applause,
From fighting the great cause
Of land and liberty.
Now you are stranded like some gallant bark,
Flung helpless on the shoals, amid the dark
Of dull and starless skies.
Bravely and well you faced the tempest's strife,
But to lie sunk 'neath sands of common life.
Your pride scorns pity, yet how hard the fate
To live through all—only to die too late!
The Lady In the Horse Car.
Woman with sachel enters car, sits down;
conductor enters, asks fare; woman opens
sachel, takes out purse, shuts sache], opens
purse, takes out dime, shuts purso, opens
Ktchel, puts in purse, shuts sachel, offers
clime, receives nickel, opens sachel, takes out
purse, shuts sachel, opens purse, puts in
nickel, closes purse, opens sachel, puts in
purse, closes sachel; stop tho car, please.—
Philadelphia Record.
Stiff and Frond.
Wife—Well, our new girl is going to leave,
John.
Husband—Why ?
"She says your manner toward her on the
street is entirely too cool; that we haven't
our family arms on the kitchen stove lids and
broom handles, and that on tho whole we're
not of her set."—Texas Siftings.
A Mean Proceeding.
Jack—Tom, were you at Charley's wed
ding?
Tom—Yes; but the father of the bride did
a mean thing.
"How was that?"
"Why, he gave lier away before the whole
company."—New York Evening Sun.
Worthy of HU Hire.
Stranger (to boy)—Boy, can you direct me
to the nearest bank ?
Boy—I kin fer twenty-fi cents.
Stranger—Twenty-five cents! Isn't that
high pay ?
Boy—Yes, sir; but ji's bank directors what
gits high pay.—New York Sun.
lint They've All Retired.
The people of Buffalo offer $100,000 for a
successful plan for utilizing Niagara falls. A
great many hackmen have discovered how to
utilize the falls without offering any such big
prize.—Pittsburg Chronicle.
A Natural Inference.
Niagara Landlord—You look tired and
thirsty. Won't you have a glass of water?
Cautious Yisitor (who has read about the
Falls)—How much is it? —Buffalo Drift.
The Right Size.
Matter of Fact Mother (to fashionable
daughter, who is going out)—Clara, I think
your bustle is altogether ioo large to look
well.
Fashionable Daughter—I know, mamma;
but you have no idea how dippery the side
walks are.—New York Sun.
Cold and Distant.
De Smith— Don't you th ink Miss Travis is
Very cold and distant.
Popinjay—She ought to be; she has gone
to Toronto to spend the winter.—Burlington
Free Press.
CROSSING THE STYX.
HOW GREEK MEETS GREEK IN THE
OTHER WORLD.
Old Charon Still in the Ferryboat Busi
ness—Connection Between the Hillen*
ism of the Fast and of the Present—A
Painful Sight.
When a death is expected, the attendant
mourners in the Greek islands have many
little customs peculiar to themselves. The
moribund is handed a bowl of water, into
which lie puts a pinch of salt for each person
with whom he is at enmity, saying as he
does so: "May my wrath perish as this salt;"
for it is considered dreadful for a man to
die leaving an enemy behind him. His spirit,
it is believed, will not rest, but will wander
about as a jioor ghost, sucking the blood of
his friends, like the shades in ancient hades,
to gain strength for his earthly wanderings.
If the complaint is consumption, they sup
pose that three Erinnyes stand ready to
pounce on children at the corners of the
room; hence the young are kept out of the
way when the dying is in extremis, and •
hope is opened over his head to allow the
Erinnyes to escape. Fevers are best cured
by priestly incantations; the name of the
disease is written on a slip of paper, and
with prayer and much incensing this is
bound to a tree, hoping thereby to transfer
the malady. Incense is much used by the
priest in his visitations to the sick; the whole
room is thick with it, and perhaps contagion
is thus often avoided.
Where the death has occurred the women
rush on to the flat roof or some other conspic
uous place, where they rend the air with
their cries, tear their hair and give way to
unbridled grief. The town crier is sent
round to announce the fact to the neighbors
and to summon friends to the death wail,
which takes place an hour or two after the
spirit has left the body. After the body has
been washed in wine it is laid out on a bier in
the center of the one roomed house, arrayed
in the deceased's best clothes, decked out with
flowers, and with lamps burning at the side,
reminding us of the ancient custom of placing
the corpse thus in the midst of the hall,
■dressed in as handsome a robe as the family
could afford, in order, according to Lucian,
that the dead may not be cold on the passage
to hades and may not be seen naked by Cer
berus I Then begins the death wail ceremony,
a scene of heart rending grief, such as took
place in Priam's palace over the dead body
of Hector.
These death wails are, in fact, one of the
most striking bonds of connection between
the Hellenism of the past and the Hellenism
of the present, and in the Greek islands, de
spite the strictness o t tbe more civilised
members of the orthodox church, they cling
to them with surprising tenacity. A body
which dies unlamented cannot enter hades,
and wanders about like that of Patrocius
and Elpenor in misery in the upper air,
neither belonging to the living nor to tbe
dead. Consequently, the death wails and
the burials take place as soon as possible
after death that the gates of hades may be
opened to them as soon as may be.
From these death wails we learn how much
that is heathen is incorporated in the belief
of today respecting an after life. They sing
of hades as a frozen, miserable place, where
the dead wander forever, anxious to return
to the upper air, and endeavoring to steal
from Charon, the lord of the lower earth, his
keys, but ineffectually. Charon plants the
bones of the departed in his garden, and
they come up as weird plants. His tent pegs
are heroes' bones, and the ropes are made of
maidens' tresses. He rides on a horse to col
lect his victims, driving the young and
strong before him, dragging the aged after
him by ropes, and carrying with him on hil
saddle the little children.
Sometimes, when a man dies who has been
conspicuous for his good fortune during life,
they will cut off his nails before the corpse
is removed and tie them up in a bag to be
preserved among the other sacred things
which are hung up in the sanctuary belong
ing to every house.
Before the corpse leaves the house a vase of
water is broken on the threshold. When any
one starts on a journey, it is customary to
spill water as au earnest of his success and
safe return, and when the body goes on its
last long journey the vase is broken. The
bier is carried by four male bearers, aud
about a bier the Greek islanders have this
most grewsome riddle: What is that which
he who makes does so to sell, he who buys
does not use himself, and he who uses does
not see? As the funeral procession passes
through tho village street the priests chant
thq offices of the dead, and from time to time
the mourners, who go in front, break forth
into their hideous wails, and women come
forth from their houses to groan in concert
with the others.
Of a truth a Greek island funeral is a pain
ful sight to witness. Ou reaching the church
the corpse is left in the porch, aud while the
liturgy is proceeding tho mourners cease to
wail. Then comes the very impressive
Btichera of the last kiss, which is chanted by
all the congregation, and begins, "Blessed is
the way thou shalt go to-day," whereat each
mourner advances and gives the last kiss to
tho cold face of the corpse, and once more
the extravagant demonstrations of grief
break forth. Finally the corpse is lowered
without a coffin into its shallow grave, and
each bystander casts on to it a handful of
soil.— Scottish Review.
Good Manners In Boston.
To have a cosmopolitan streak may be un
fortunate. I know it has the inconvenience
of not letting one class or kind of people
wholly engross or absorb us. Perhaps that is
why Ï have looked about a good deal in order
to'discover, if possible, in which sex, class or
condition the present rush, activity and rage
of personal ambition had left most of the old
time human kindliness of nature, apart from
finished society manner, which may or may
not coexist with it I have studied idle so
ciety people and professional progressionalists,
attended labor and woman suffrage meetings,
and I have read the signs of the qualities I
like" and dislike where I had least expected
them, in each and alL I have seen the truest,
most disinterested kindliness where the ut
most regalia of fashion was a daily or nightly
routine; and the most innate politeness in •
ypnn with pick in hand cleaning the sidewalk,
who begged your pardon for being in the way
while he paused to let you pass; and I hava
witnessed the most porcine obtuseness to
every instinct of manners in persons whose
names, to the simple, might sound synony
mouswith the cardinal virtues. The quali
ties that make life worth living are not •
matter of place or birth, or nu f sl0I *\.
"causes;" they are more subtle a .^"***
all these.— Bosten Saturday Evening Gazett*
A LETTER F*OM J. G.
Be
N ■
1
V-,
Is Kamins X» Money ami Write*
Touchingly to B. N.
HE following pri
vate letter and 3fiS.
have just been re
ceived, and though
only signed with
the initials of the
writer, there are
niany reasons why
I am led to believe
that both are the
work of an old
friend, Mr. Jay
Gould, who is at
present in the coun
try where the let
ter is dated:
"Afloat ox the Mediterranean, I
ix the Gloaming, 1887. )
"Mr. Wilhelm j Contiguously, World Office,
New York, U. S. A:
"Sir— Would you mind using your in
fluence in trying to get the inclosed piece
printed in the Sabbath World and send me
whatever it is worth in currency by registered
mail, care lock box 291, Rome Italy? I am
not earning anything this winter, being dis
abled by neuralgia, and so it has occurred to
me I might write some pieces for the
paper, telling of sights and sounds abroad.
If you print this letter, or use your influence
to that end so that it gets into the paper, will
you send me two or three copies and I will
pay you in a few weeks. But, if you do not
use it, I wish you would avoid making memo
randa on it with a blue pencil, as several
other editors have done, for it annoys me
very much.
"Pleaee da not make fun of the piece if
you do not use it, as I am threatened with
heart disease, and anything that makes me
very angry is apt to prove fatal Atrophy
of the heart is what it is called, aud if I live
forty-five years longer it will be about all I
can expect, so please do not make light of my
piece. Fraternally yours, J. G."
(Communicated.)
For some time we have been sailing o'er
the unruffled bosom of the Mediterranean
Eea. It is a beautiful sheet of water, which
has been plowed by many a keel as far back
as history can inform ns. It is from 20 to
200 feeth in depth, and is well located to do
the principal traffic between Eurojje and
Africa.
An enormous quantity of water flows into
the Mediterranean sea, for a half dozen
European rivers contribute to it, and the At
lantic ocean also discharges its waters into
this sea. And yet, owing to the hot, dry
winds which sweep across from the sandy
wastes of Africa, the evaporation is very
great and keeps the sea from overflowing its
banks. This should teach us that even nature
abhors a surplus. L would ratlu»* Lo road
piaster of a good yacht on the Mediterranean
than to live ufwtairs in New York.
We visited Milan not long ago. It is an
inland town whose southern wall is washed
by the Olona river. Otherwise the place is
entirely unlaundered. Milan, pronounced
Me-laun by bearing down hard on the last
syllable, is a railroad center in northern
Italy. It is eight miles in circumference and
has ramparts around it. Milan points with
pride to her ramparts. I often think that
New York would invite more visitors from
abroad if she had a better line of ramparts.
The architecture of Milan embraces many
types, but a good deal of it is mediaeval, with
a roof of the same. Florence, however, has
some palaces that are mediaevaler than those
of Milan, I think. Milan used to have 240
churches, but 117 of them did not pay and
were suppressed by Maria Theresa and
Joseph II. Since that other churches that
were doing well a few centuries ago have
ceased to attract, and now there are not over
eighty out of the original 240, and they have
no trouble doing the whole business. I could
have purchased a controlling interest in
three churches here for $17. The cathedral
at Milan is first rate in every respect and is
doing well. I sometimes think that it is
foolish for other churches to try to compete
with a cathedral. They may succeed for a
while, but sooner or later they will have to
acknowledge that they cannot keep it up.
Everywhere we go wo find the Caucasian
race in the ascendant. I sometimes think
that the blood of the Caucasian is more
largely red and has a wider circulation than
any other. But this is a deviation from
what I was saying.
The newer streets of Naples are quite
pretty, and extend several miles out beyond
the town, like those of Fargo, D. T., where
sidewalks several hundred miles in extent
were built at the expense of the county. In
this way Fargo had sidewalks that extended
for miles in every direction through the
neighboring farms, and the county paid for
them. Fargo has been striving ever since to
live up to her sidewalks. Aside from this
there is little similarity between Naples and
Fargo. The old streets of Naples are nar
row and crooked, and the houses are so high
that a ripe pomegranate dropped from the
roof on the plug hat of a passing tom ist is
permanently impaired and the hat pros
trated.
Naples claims to be the leading lazzaroni
vineyard of the world. We try to imitate
her in New York, but we fail. We have
poverty enough in New York and fluent, ex
temporaneous beggars as well as more or less
disease, but we have not been able so far to
unite our poverty and disease in such a nay
as to successfully imitate the picturesque
lazzaroni of the east. Our poor people in
America are too robust and our invalids are
too many of them wealthy. So long as it is
that way Europe and Asia will do our laz
zaroni business in spite of all we can do to
prevent it.
We can get up a fair specimen to look at,
but it lacks age and the air of travel as well
as the pleasing malformations peculiar to the
lazzaroni bijouterie of the old world. I
sometimes think that the reason Naples so
long retained her supremacy over other cities
in this line was largely due to the stimula
tion resulting from the close competition be
tween Vesuvius and the local talent of the
lazzaroni in the matter of eruptions.
The population of Naples is nearly 500,000,
but the annual rainfall I have been unable
to obtain. If I can find out in time I will
send it in my next letter. If you wish to
send me the money for this piece and hold
the article till I can ascertain what the rain
fall is you may do so. J. G.
The foregoing is written in such a plain,
straightforward way, and contains so much
information, that I am in doubt whether Mr.
Gould wrote it or not, but possibly he has
been »akmg something for his memory.
Whether he has done so or not, it is safe to
say that he has been taking something. The
only way to keep Mr. Gould from taking
something is to nail it firmly to the floor.
In printing the letter I do it to help Mr.
Gould, and wish to state that I do not hold
myself responsible for any of the statements
piartp therein.—Bill Nye in New York World.
STORIES ABOUT MEN.
tt Coat Tilton SO Cents to Hear Hi* Own
Lectare.
Theodore Tilton was about to lecture at a
well known hall in Maine. He arrived at
the door unattended, and inquired for the
manager. He was informed that he was
within, but could not be disturbed, as the
lecture was about to commence.
"Can I go in and speak to him?" he humbly
asked of the highly important ticket taker.
"Yes, if you have got half a dollar."
Tilton produced the coin and passed into
the hall to listeu to his own lecture. He en
joyed the joke much, and said it was a good
lecture and well worth the price of admis
sion.—Fairfield Journal
Grant'* Sorrel War Horse.
"The first time I saw Gen. Grant to know
him," said Maj. Osmun to a knot of story
tellers, the other day, "was in the November
of 1864. I was then attached to Hancock's
headquarters, and was sent to carry a dis
patch to Gen. Grant It was raining for all
it was worth, and the mud about those
Petersburg trenches was like^glue. Putting
my horse to a gallop, I was getting over the
ground at a good rate, and soon I mot and
passed a solitary rider astride a little sorrel
horse. The man's slouch hat was pulled
down over his eyes, and the rain was cours
ing in streams down on the poncho in which
he was closely wrapped. A moment Int er I
came up with quite a group of riders, and
catching sight of a lot of gold braid, jumped
at the conclusion that I bad struck some
general's staff. I asked if t'hey knew where
Gen. Grant was, and one of them said:
"Why, boy, you've just passed him."
"Without a word I wheeled my horse and
dashed back to the solitary figure ahead. As
I came up he seemed to take in the situation,
for he said sharply:
" 'Who are you looking for, young man?'
" 'Are you Gen. Grant? I asked eagerly.
" 'My name's Grant,' he said stiffly, hold
ing out his hand for my dispatch. Then he
said:
" 'Why didn't you come to me at once?
" 'i-r—
" 'Well, what?
" 'I didn't think you were Gen. Grant.'
" 'You didn't? Why didn't you?'
"I saw his eyes twinkle above his cigar,
that must have gone out three or four weeks
before, it looked so bad. So I ventured to
tell the fact:
" 'Because I didn't suppose Gen. Grant
would ride such a looking horse as that.'
"Ho burst out into a hearty laugh, and
Gen. Badeau told me afterward that it was
the first time for a week he had heard Grant
laugh. The general receipted on the envelope
for tho dispatch and dismissed me, saying:
" 'The next time you are sent to Gen. Grant
perbape you will know him.'
"But after that I took my dispatches to the
chief of staff."—Detroit Journal.
A Joke on Burleigh.
A story is told in the corridors of the
Delavan which is "on" Hon. Henry G. Bur
leigh, of Whitehall. He was seated on a sofa
not long ago talking with Railroad Commis
sioner Baker, when a well dressed young man
stepped up to the telegraph desk aud began
writing a dispatch.
"See here, Burleigh," remarked Mr. Baker,
suddenly, "I want to make a little bet with
you."
The surrounding politicians pricked up
their ears.
"What about?" asked the Whitehall
wizard, curiously.
"About a sure thing, of course," was the
reply. "Do you see that young man at the
telegraph desk and the nice seal skin gloves
beside him? I want to bet you that he walks
off when he has finished his business and for
gets to take those gloves."
"Nonsense," was the sage rejoinder. "He
wouldn't forget anything so valuable."
After a few minutes chaffing tin bet was
made and the surrounding group drew
nearer to watch the result. Mr. Burleigh
looked skeptical and Mr. Baker contented.
Finally the stranger buttoned his coat and
turned to go, but he left the gloves.
"Hold on," shouted Mr. Burleigh after the
retreating stranger, "you have forgot
ten"—
"Sit down, Burleigh," said Mr. Baker
calmly, "sit down. Those are my gloves."
Then the watching multitude smiled a
moist, odorous smile, and the bet was paid.—
Albany Express._
"Whar Dat Veal?"
Senator Lamar is reported as telling the
following story of his experience at a political
meeting in his own state soon after the war.
He was one of the speakers, and alluding to
the civil war, suggested as a parallel case the
parable of the Prodigal Son and the joyful
reception at his home when the naughty boy
returned. He was succeeded by a negro, a
Republican, who, aft*- some general remarks,
paid his respects to Lamar's parallel "For
giben!" said he. "Dey forgiben— dem briga
diersl Why, dey'se come walkin' into de
house an' bang de do' an' go up to do ol' man
an' say: 'Whar dat veal?'"—New York Sun.
Lincoln, Cullom and a Darkey. ^
Senator Cullom tells a story about a negro
porter at Willard's hotel in Washington who
was always obsequious in his attentions to
him. One day the darkey looked up at him
and said: "Boss, you look pow'ful like Marse
Abe Lincoln. Didn't you nebber hab nobody
tell you dat?' "Yes," replied the senator, "I
have been told that; but you know they say
Mr. Lincoln was tho homeliest man in the
country." "Yes, I knows dat, but you do
'semble him most almighty much."—Detroit
Journal. _
A Familiar Face.
Guest (to hotel clerk)—I've met that gen
tleman who just went out before somewhere.
HI* face is very familiar, but to save my life
I can't call his name.
Clerk—His name is Smith; he is one of the
officials at Auburn prison. Your bill is $4,
*ir.—New York Sun.
Severe Discipline.
Boston Young Lady (to convict in peniten
tiary)—What are you reading, man?
Convict—A volume of Ouida, miss.
Boston Young Lady (shocked)—Monsters!
And do they really compel you to read Ouida,
man?—New York Sun.
Where Kansas Rules Supreme.
A New York man has invented a process
for making railroad cars out of wood pulp,
but it takes a gam»» cyclone to make wood
pulp out of railroad can.—Kansas City Star.
A Precocious Answer.
Minister—Well, Bobby, what do you expect
to be when you grow up?
Bobby (solemnly)—A man.—Drake'* Gen
tleman's Magazine.
BILL NYE ON TYPEWRITING.
Ir
£
He Gives Some Variegated Advice to a
Correspondent.
REAT as is my cor
respondence now, I
pause to jjeruse and
place the following
before the languish
ing public:
Glillivue Nigh,
Esq; Respected Sir -
• • • •
DO yiou think that !
could GET ALONG
iN new YORK? with
mym. littLE.writER.
type wi. writer I
1 — menu couldeot i
write things for you out ,; pyy4444445ofm my
own thoughts if you would FIRST THink theOtfm
out? of course i can write — j4#hg trtaiiter than
this when i had some good yumrus FRIEnd to be
with 887766? now DOyou get off a 1 them droll
644:fc. , 7<v>things EVERY s
SUN'dayHs it born in you?or is it just PLAIN
bring ing UP::
Please excuse had spelling and bad cokxld .1
thought I would tell you it is raixe ing haere to
daix? • SOgoodBIxe??
yours truly
(dictated ) --
The above is, of course, more or less per
personal, but the question is one which con
cerns many other young men who may be
thus afflicted. I therefore take the liberty of
answering an inquiry publicly which I
would otherwise regard as strictly confiden
tial, suppressing the name, however, and the
iirst paragraph, both of which read like the
soliloquy of a "hell box" or the smothered
ejaculations of a "pied form."
To the correspondent, whose letter is cbove
given, I might say that I believe there would
be an opening here for him if he would give
himself up to a certain class of work. Of
course, he could hardly hope to enter the
regular channels of commercial correspond
ence with a typewriter that has such a pro
nounced impediment in its speech as this one
has, but could he not hope to get a job at
Volapukat headquarters?
Certainly there ought to be a place some
where for one whose only trouble seems to be
a kind of information of the vowels.
There might be a future here for such a
graphic and graceful style of writing, if it
could be used in reporting telephonic re
marks over crossed wires. The word paint
ing and vulgar fractious are similar, and it
might be made to arouse a good deal of in
interest if properly worked up.
Of course it would bo necessary that he
should tone down some of his extravagant
figures of speech and avoid overexertion of
the punctuator, but with his wealth of full
stops he might do well on a periodical, and
his space work would certainly attract atten
tion. Or he could go into the counting room
of a man who did uot advertise and do as
signment work.
The tyjjewriter, in strong and willing
hands, is smitier than the sword. I look for
the typewriter to take the place of Indian
oratory in our literature, and its tinkling
notes will soon be heard, I hope, in homes
where the one legged pen and the bottle of
bluing all the writing now are doing.
Come to tie metropolis $x:t)^&fm?$.
Come with your abnormal: and your little
tYpElwritER. Come with your startling
style of English and your chaste method of
obliterating space. Come and get acquainted
with mR.sAgE and mR $$$$$. gOuLD. 11
Here you will meet mauy yumurus people
who will amuse you to a high °. You will
also meet Mr. aNthoNy cOmStocK, who will
require you to drape all your figures in the
following manner (8).
Come to New York and get a new soft
palate put into your typewriter and have ati
operation performed on its tonsils.
Come aud visit tho produce $$$lblblbbbl
bblbbl Excllange. Come and see Wall pf'cl
$$$Oo0^3jr street. Ride on our Elevated
railway from BBZZZT***—(0)Xt'!&&&;:rd,
street, to GGXXKKrrtt???BXJ£&Blickernex
street. Visit the brig. Theodora, dam
Tarantula straight for place, b. m. Rob
Roy dam Ella Jackson horse races!!
The more yon mix up with us tho more
you will like us. We New Yorkers from
Wyoming territory enjoy having people
thrown among US. You would meet with
a hearty welcome whether you came to grow
up with our bactieria or to buy green goods.
Cordiality is our one weakness. If a cordial
greeting would not suit you you can take
apollinaris water. With your uatural ten
dency toward delirium tremens, perhaps that
would bo best, any way.
I used to be acquainted with a young man
who wrote a beautiful hand $x:t%&fm?$,
for that was before the days of typewriters.
He would bring out his writing materials
and his tongue and make a corkscrew pea
cock swimming in a large cranberry marsh
infested by loops and funny business, all
without taking his pen off the paper. Ho
was a thorough artist, with a lofty soul, but
he could not spell He could construct a
graceful swan with a halo of chirographical
worms all around it, but nature and art
had denied him the humbler joys of orthog
raphy. He could make a lovely purple
scroll with a green fringe to it and red
eyed bobolinks, with heliotrope bosoms,
perched on space and bearing in their
bronzed talons yet other smaller scrolls that
were as gracefifl as a doughnut horse, and on
these scrolls would be written such glittering
truths as these: "In Frendship's bright ger
land, Please regard me as your Humbel fur
getmenott," "Look up, press Onnerds & you
will git there."
But his style is robbed of much of its grace
and beauty by immersing it in cold and pulse
less type. He was a bold and fearless writer
and his hands were ever red with the blood of
murdered English. He broke down the high
walls established by the brainy but discon
nected and flighty Noah Webster, and spelled
such words as "pillgartic" in a way that kept
his finer writings out of the magazines. But
when he assassinated the English he made no
attempt to conceal his methods. He wrote
under everything: "Executed with a pen."
And he recked not. Not a reck.
Whether you can ever rise to such a posi
tion with your type writer, Mr. $x:t>£&fm?$,
I do not know. I hope you may. Your
orthography is rich with improvisations,
roulades and trills. Running through all
your work I notice an air of gentle badinage,
bon homme, persiflage and pi You have
given utterance in your letter to thoughts
which I could not think without the aid of
outside influences. I could not evolve such
sentiments without the stimulus of a fall
from a high b uilding or the exhilaration of a
railway collision.
It is the unexpected in your humor which
gives it its chief charm. No one can tell,
when you start out, whether you will soar
away among tbe asterisks and space, or get
involved in a scuffle between lower case and
capital, in which you will get injured, morti
fication and exclamation set in and you lose
your life.
I am glad you wrote to me w ith your little
type writer, and though I believe that you
can do better than you did, fmd that as a
matter ol lact Is really an
assumed name, your letter has given mc
much enjoyment, and I print it this morn
ing with great pleasifre.
SO. goOd BXve
biLl nXve
—New York World.
Do Americans Work Too Hard?
It is said that the American people work
barder to obtain the "almighty dollar" than
any other people or nation iu the world,
while they are more lavish in spending when
they get it This may be true or not, but they
certainly get more dollars for the same work
than any other people, and they are uot gen
erally penuries in spending them for their
own comfort and pleasure, or mean in ap
propriating them for charity and all good
works.
It is certainly true, also, that many pro
fessional and business men, lawyers doctors,
merchants, etc., including some public offi
cials, especially in our large cities, work too
hard and destroy their health, by both mental
and physical exertion, protracted for too long
a time without proper recreaction. The
workingmen and laboring classes also com
plain of working too hard, and the great
questions of tbe day are thorn of "labor and
wages," which claim attention through
"strikes," labor organizations, socialistic and
anarchical demonstrations.
The question, "Do Americans work too
hard?" requires a distinction to be made be
tween natives and foreignsra who form so
large a portion of the population
of the United States. Foreigners prin
cipally perform what is considered the
hardest work, building railroads, mining
coal, and other laborious employment, and
whether they work too hard, in fact, or harder
than Americans generally in other occupa
tions, is a question which might be considered
by itself. They probably do not work harder
in this than in their own country or they
would not continue to come here in such
large numbers. Both Americans and for
eigners, however, will probably claim that
they have to work "too hard."—City Comp
troller Loew in The Epoch.
Cold Snaps.
Now is the time to lay in your thermome
ters. They are way down.—New Britain
Record.
It was well said of an ill assorted couple
that they were like two thermometers from
the fact that they never agreed.—Boston Bul
letin.
We are forcibly reminded in our daily
walks that tho year is not the only thing that
is slipping away.—Yonkers Statesman.
Mrs. Bloggs—What is the use of all this
snow? Bloggs—Snow use.—Burlington Free
Press.
We might, perhaps, have more agreeable
weather if we should substitute coal for
mercury in our thermometers. Coal is going
up much higher than mercury.—Exchange.
Every coal dealer believes that some
thing is to be gained by weighting.—New
Haven News.
Many poor people find themselves in a
peck of trouble when they try to procure
a bushel of coal at the present high rates.—
Boston Gazette.
Gagely—By Jove, Skinnem, I cant see
why you don't keep your office warmer.
Skinnem—Can't afford to; coal's too high.
Gagely—But it's just the same when coal is
cheap. Skinnem—Oh, I don't make any
thing then, and have to economize.—Life.
The saddest thing about the Dakota bliz
zard is the mournful fact that an Uncle
Tom's Cabin company, with two "Topsys"
and two "Lawyer Marks," which was per
forming in that territory, escaped being
frozen to death.—N orristown Herald.
His Own Children.
Not long since there was a crowd of ex
cited darkies in an Austin alley, gataered
around two negro boys who had clinched
each other and were fighting away for dear
life on the ground. There was rne negro
man present, and he urged the combatants
not to give up. "Gouge him in do eye, Bill!"
"Sam, if you give in I'll tan yer hide for
yer. If you whips Bill, Ise got a quarter for
yer."
A well dressed gentleman stopped .and said
to the negro man: "You ought to be
ashamed of yourself to encourage those' boys
to fight."
"Why, Lor, boss," was tho response,
"dem's my own childrens."—Texas Siftings.
Society in Philadelphia.
A member of The Philadelphia Call staff
received an invitation to call upon a friend
the other evening, and was considerably
mystified when he saw in the lower left hand
corner tho following letters in bold faced
type, "C. O. B. K." His friends were ques
tioned as to their meaning, but none of them
had ever seen them used that way, and ho
was compelled to wait until the party who
sent it should clear away the mystery.
"What do those letters mean?" he was asked.
"Come or be killed," said he.—Philadelphia
CaU. _
A Nice Little Christian.
Fashionable Rector (to little girl)—So you
love to go to church, Flossie, and be a good
little girl?
Flossie—Yes, indeed, Mr. Whitechoker.
Rector—Do you know many of the little
girls who belong to the church?
Flossie—No, sir; not very many. I only
care to know those who sit in the middle
aisle.—New York Sun.
Cheaper.
"Let me give you some advice," said Mr.
Clarence Knowles, "about sodding grass for
your lawn. Don't sod it. Don't use grass at
alL Buy Persian rugs and cover your lawns
with them. You can get them for a hundred
dollars apiece, and a hundred or so will cover
your lawn. They are quite as pretty as grass
and very much less expensivfe."—Atlanta
Constitution.
SnicidaL
Mrs. Langerfelt—I took your prescription,
doctor, but it hasn't seemed to do me a bit of
good.
Dr. Boles—Did you disguise it in a bit of
orange, as I told you?
Mrs. L.—No; you see it was late last night,
and instead of sending out for an orange, I
used a slice of fruit cake.—Tid Bits.
A Present for the Boss.
First Messenger Boy—What's yer hurry
cully?
Second Messenger Boy—Us boys wanted to
give the boss a nice present for his birthday,
so we all chipped in and I've just been out to
buy it. It's an awful purty motto, all hand
worked the man said; it's bine and red and
got a big gold fringe on it. Guess he'll hang
it in the office where we can all see it.
"That's nice. What does tbe motto sayl"
"The more haste the less speed."—Omaha
World.
THE LITTLE PEOPLE.
A «»*11 Hoy'» Anxiety Not to Know
Everything.
A gentleman once saw a boy peeling the
bark from one of his choice trees with a
hatchet. The gentleman tried to cateh the
boy, but the latter was too quick for him, so
the farmer changed his tactics. "Come here,
my little son," he said, in a soft, flute like
voice with counterfeited friendliness, "cone
here to me a minute. I want to tell you
something." "Not yet," replied the recip
ient, "little boys like me don't need to knew
everything."—Texas Siftings.
The Wiggle» of Wakefulnes*.
Some expressions are all the more forcible
for having sprung spontaneously into exist
ence without the fostering aid of grammar.
Lillian had an uncomfortable way of waking
before light, and expecting the family W
rise with her at what theÿ considered an un
bearably early hour.
"Lillian, you must lie still ana try to
sleep," said her mother one morning, when
this early bird began to chirp.
"I'll try," said the child, and so she did,
but it was to no purpose. Iu five minutes
she tgas sitting up in bed playing with her
little pink toes. This time her mother, grow
ing impatient, as sleepy people have been
known to do, summarily extinguished her
under the bedclothes, saying, in despair:
"Lillian. I told you to try once more to go to
sleep?"
"I know it, mamma," said truthful Lillian,
"and I did try, but the wake wiggles in me
so I can't keep still 1"—Youth's Companion.
Another Daniel Solution.
"Willie is a little Scotch boy who lives in
Glasgow. He is 5 years old, and has not yet
learned to like "peace brose," which in his
country is given to children to cool the blood.
"Go on, WiMie, you must eat it." said his
papa one day at breakfast.
"But I don't like it, dada," replied the boy.
"That doesn't matter; you must eat it. It
will do you good and make you fat like
Daniel, who lived on it when he was a boy."
"Did he? Was that the man who was in
the den of lionsä"
"Yes, that was the man."
"Well, then," replied the lad, scornfully,,
" I don't wonder the lions didn't eat him." '
The smell of pease brose is not by any
means pleasant.—Harper's Young People
Ways and Means.
A little boy, Gussie, where I live, has an
aunt who goes away in summer and live9
with him in winter. Sho was coming back,
but the room she used to have I have now.
One day he asked me if my husband would
feel bad if I should die. I told him I thought
he would. Tl.en he asked nie if I would feel
bad if my husltand died. I told him I would.
He thought a few minutes. Then he said:
"Well, if God would take the both of you
A.uft Delia could have the room."—Boston
jrlobe. _
A Valuable Employe.
"Miss Florry," said tho employer, "you
have been in my establishment as bookkeeper
for five years, and I havo raised your salary
each year until now. I am paying you all I
can well afford, and I am afraid I shall not
be able to raise the figures for next year any
higher than they are now—$1,200."
"You have been very ki id to me, Mr.
Plummer," replied the young lady, "but I
have been offered $1,S00 by Swagg & Co. to
take their books next year."
"The underhanded sneaks ! Trying to take
my employes from me, are they? Well, they
can't do it. I'll give you $1,400, Miss Florry,
and you can snap your fingers at Swagg &
Co."
"Fourteen hundred dollars is a liberal offer,
Mr. Plummer, and I am obliged to you, but
Shroat & Belknap sent mo word yesterday
that they would pay me $1,500 if I would go
into their office as head bookkeeper."
"Shroat & Belknap, hey I They're a pretty
pair of sharks. They'll give you $1,500, will
they? I'll see'em in Los Angeles first!" ex
claimed Mr. Plummer. "See hero, Miss
Florry, I'll do better than that. I'll take you
into the firm. I'll marry you ! Tell Shroat &
Belknap you are engaged. Ha! ha I I'll
marry you, Florry 1"
"Oh, Mr. Plummer (demurely), I thank
you sincerely for your offer, but I can never
be anything more than a daugh"
"Wha—what!" gasped the head of the firm.
"I have promised to marry your son
Harry, Mr. Plummer."
(Red tiro and slow curtain.)—Chicago
Tribune.__
"Humor" sn<l "Foolishness."
A writer of humorous stories was stopping
at a summer hotel where he was admired by
two small boys who had read his tales. A
real live writer was evidently a curiosity to
the youngsters. Finally, one of tho boys
plucked up courage to speak to him.
"Are you Mr.-, who writes stories for
the-?"
The writer acknowledged his identity with
becoming modesty, and tho bo 3 T , after a mo
ment's reflection, continued his investigar
tions: "How much do they pay you for one
of those stories?"
"From $20 to $50," replied the writer,
kindly, and the youngster seemed buried iu
thought Suddenly the question came like a
shot from a gun:
"Well, wouldn't they pay you more if your
stories were not so foolish ?"
The writer was too taken aback to answer,
but he has been thinking over the matter
ever since, and vainly trying to draw the line
between "humor" and "foolishness."—Har
per's Bexar. _
Rabbit Plague in America.
In mauy portions of Idaho, Nevada and
Wyoming the rabbits are so numerous that
they are becoming almost as great a plague
as in Australia. The proprietors of a large
ranch are giving boys five cents apiece for
killing them, and some of the boys earn as
much as $5 each per day. The dead rabbits
are fed to hogs to fatten them.—Western
Letter. _
The white ties worn by New York waiters
are in most cases furnished by the house, and
when the waiters are uot on duty the ties
are left with the head waiter.
A Long Training.
Brown—Do you know how long Robinson
has been keeping house?
Smith—No; but it must be a good many
years. I took dinner with him the other di^r,
and he carved a duck without spilling it on
the floor.—Harper's Bazar.
Saved Himself.
Miss Gushington (enjoying a sleigh ride)—I
think you have a lovely horse, Mr. De Lyla.
About what does such a fine animal cost?
Mr. De Lyle—Two dollars an how—or— er
—yes, that horse is worth about $800, Miss
Gushington.—The Epoch.

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