Helena weekly herald. [volume], November 28, 1889, Image 1

About Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900

Image provided by: Montana Historical Society; Helena, MT

                
ft
mmm
«
«Ci
Volume
Helena, Montana, Thursday, November 28, 1889.
No.
XXIII.
lilechlu era hi.
R. E. FISK D. W. FISK ft. J. FISK.
Publisher» and Proprietors.
Largest Circulation of any Faperin Montana
-o
Rates ot Subscription.
WEEKLY HERALD:
One Year. (In advance).............................83 00
ptx Month*, (In advance)............................... 1 75
Three Months, (In advance)........................... 1 00
When not paid for in advance the rale will be
Four Dollars per year!
Postage, in all cases Prepala.
DAILY HERALD:
(ItvSuhscrlbers.delivered hy carrier 81.00a month
Otic Year, by mail, (in advance)................. 89 00
Hix Months, by mail, (in advance)............... 5 00
Three Months, bv mail, (in advance)........... 2 50
If not pain in advance. 812 per annum.
[Entered at the Postoflice at Helena as second
class matter.)
AT'AU communications should be addressed to
FISK BROS., Publishers,
Helena, Montana.
UNCLE SETH'S PREFERENCE.
I'd hate to be President—by gum, I wouldn't
take it,
The President's cake is always dough, 'ithout no
chance to bake it ;*
The papers they all call him names—a miscreant
an' villain,
A man whose moral capital ain't ekul to a
shillin'.
The Emperor of Germany is alius in hot water.
An' never seems to do the thing that Bismarck
thinks he oughter.
The King of Austry's all broke up, the Queen
has clean gone crazy.
She yells and cries from morn till night, an
raves an' won't be aisy.
An' they say the Czar of Russia doesn't dance to
pleasant toons,
For he wears sheet-iron weskits an' castriron
trouserloons; /
His jacket mu»t be made of tin befoie he 11 dare
to trust it, , ,.
His beaver is an iron pot, so tough a bomb can t
bust it.
Hi- bed-room is a iron safe, a cannon-ball can't
crack it, , , . . . .
In which he crawls liefere he dares to jest take
off his jacket; , , . ,
His bedstead's made of tempered steel, as hard
as he can stan' it;
IIis bedquilt's made of hammered zinc, his pil
ler's made of granite.
An' so I ain't no cander 'ate for President, King
or Kaiser;
I'll stay to hum an' feed my pigs, an live 1th
Ann Eliza,
An' we don't want no crowns an things to plague
an' aggravate us;
We'll do our chores and tend the shotes, an hoe
our corn an' taters.
INGÎN SUMMER.
Jest about the time when fall
Gits to rattlin' in the trees,
An' the man tliet knows it all
'Spiclons frost in every breeze.
When a person tells hisse'f
Thet the leaves look mighty thin —
Then tliar blows a melier breaf !
Ingin summer's hyere agin.
Kind-uh smoky-lookin' blues
Spins acrost the mountain side;
An' the heavy moroin' dews
Greens the grass up fur and wide.
Nature raly 'pears ez ef
She waz lay in' off a day—
Sort-uh drorin' in her breaf
Fore she freezes up to stay.
Nary lick o' work I strike
'Long about this time o' year !
I'm a sort uh slowly like.
Right when Ingiu summer s here.
Wife an' boys can do the work,
But a man with natchel wit,
Like I got, kin 'ford to shirk,
Ef he hes a turn for it.
Time when grapes set in to ripe,
All I ast of any man
Is a comm« n co'n-eob pipe
With terbacker to my han'.
Then jest loose me wliar the air
Simmers 'crost me, wahm and free!
Promised lauds ull find me thar;
Wings ull fahly sprout on me!
I'm a'/oungin' round on thrones,
Bossin' worlds f'om shore to shore,
When I stre.ch my marrer bones
Jest outside the cabin door !
An* the sunshine seepin' down
On my old head, bald an' gray,
'Bears right like the gilted crown
I eipect to w'ar some day.
The Broken Sixpence.
They walked along the moor that day,
Amidst the blooming heather,
And never more beside the stream
They tw o might tryst together.
He broke a sixpence—they were scarce
Enough with him, poor fellow!—
And gave her half. 1 he sunlight fell
Around them soft and mellow.
And then he clasped her in his arms
W itii all a lover's yearning,
And begged her to be true to him
And wait till bis returning.
She vowed— and tears were in her eyes—
And pledged her woman's honor;
And then they parted, while the skies
Snone pure and faint upon her.
Upon a lonely battlefield
He lies at rest forever.
The broken sixpence in his breast
His spur to all endeavor.
But she ere many weeks had passed
Had wed a wealthy brewer,
Whose In-er-soaked sovereigns in her ears
Than lover's vows rang truer.
The golden light of simple love.
Upon her pathway beaming.
Was nothing to the golden coin
That paid for all her scheming.
Who knows if she has chosen wellT
Is not a million better
Than just a broken sixpence
And a faded, loving letter?
Autumn Courtship.
In meads where lambkins used to sport,
No sportive Iambi we see;
Tin- nights are long, the days are short,
And. bo, ftlae! »re we.
At morn the roosters Inter crow.
Paid ofl's the yachting crew.
Again the nor', nor'easter blows,
The politician, too.
Against the pane the raindrops beat,
The hunter beats the wood,
In cozy parlor lovers meet,
And it is meet they should.
And close together there they sit,
A situation grand.
And while her gentle heart goes pit
A-pat he pats her hand.
At witching hours, O! honeyed love,
Who cares that summer s flown
When one beside the parlor stove
Can sit and hold his Cour i er .
To a Child's Memory.
ttle white blossom, so faintly flushed,
ilieate petals, so lightly crushed
aves of a laugiiter so quickly hushed
ttle white sail on an endlcss sea
issed from the ken of the eyes that b«b_
«•aining, ashore, for a glimpse of T
ttle white star on the nightyblaeshrand,
t« bowed souls of this loweet Uni
line thou lorevcr from God s right hand.
r
ïg=
PRIN- ESh 1Z VB L.
Daughter of the Deposed Emperor
Dorn Pedro.
The Eoapire of Brazil has been over
thrown and a Republic instituted. We
give a portrait of the person, next to the
deposed Emperor, most affected by the
revolution —the Crown Princess Izahel,
who has tasted the sweets ol power twice
dnriiig her father's absence from Brazil,
but who will probably spend the rest of
her life in a private station.
Izahel, who is D im Pedro's only child,
was born in 1846 In 1864 she was mar
ried to Prince Louis of Orleans, Comte d'
Ea, the eldest son of the Duc de Nemours,
and cousin of the Comte de Paris. She has
three sons, the eldest tourte« u years old.
The Crown Princess acted as regent during
her father's absence in 1876 and again in
1888. In a public address at Pernambnco
about two moots ago the Count d'En, her
husband, then a Generalissimo ofthearmy,
solemnly declared on behalf of his father
in-law, Dorn Pedro, and in the name of his
wife and children, that the emite Imperial
family was prepared to surrender the
throne and leave Br»zd as soon a» the na
tion had by popular vote expressed its de
sire for a Republic in lien of a monarchy
From this it would seem that symptoms of
disaffection had appeared at that time.
VS
m
y
$
DEYEREAUX BLAKF.
To be Tendered a Testimonial by
Friends in New York.
Honored names, among them that of
Chauncy M. Depew, are printed in the list
of distinguished people who are patrons of
the testimonial entertainment to be given
in New York in honor of Mrs. Lillie
Devereaux Blake. The grpat theme of the
occasion will be what people who think as
Mrs. Blake does, call "the emancipation of
woman," and the entertainment will con
sist of nineteen historical tableaux illas
trative of ante-colonial and colonial days, the
Revolutionary period and great national
and reformatory movements.
Mrs. Blake, who has spent the best years
of her life as a leader in what is known as
the woman's rights movement, was born in
Raleigh, North Carolina in August, 1835.
Both her parents were descended from
Jonathan Edwards. Her father died in
1837, and the widow subsequently re
moved to New Haven, Connecticut, where,
in 1855, Lillie was married to Frank Urn
sted, a lawyer of Philadelphia, with whom
she lived two years in St. Lonis, Missouri.
Mr. Umsted died in 1859, and from that
date his widow contributed largely to
leading newspapers and magazines. In
1866 Mrs. Umsteid married Grenfill Blake,
of New York City. She published "Fet
tered for Life," a novel designed to show
the legal disadvantages of women, in 1872.
Mrs. Blake hat been known as one of the
leading advocates of the enfranchisement
of her sex, since 1870; and has written
much in the newspapers on the subject
since that date. She is a skilled public
speaker and witty and forcible in the ad
vocacy of her opinions.
Carnegie's Gilt.
When Andrew Carnegie took a ride in
bis coach last oear he was made the target
of a quiver of cheap pens that tried to point
with venom the contrast between the
millionaire and the mill-hand, bat,when he
founds a great public public library he gets
only a scratch of recognition from the same
pens. Yet his gift to Pittsburg will be the
noblest monument in the city. Weary of
waiting for the coancilmen to accept for
the city his offer of $1,060,000 for a free
library, he has appointed a citizens' com
mittee to select a suitable site, upon which
he will erect a library bnilding, with
quarters for Pittsburg's newly organized
Academy of Sciences. The bnilding will
eclipse anything of the kind in the country
exept the Smithsonian Institute at Wash
ington. ___
What They Might Have Done.
I America,)
In an art gallery two pilgrims panse be
fore a copy of Meissonier's celebrated
painting, "107."
Mrs. Newritch—"That's a pretty fine
picture. Don't you think so, Josiah?"
Mr. Newrich—"Yes, they seemed tobe
doing some lively fighting thar, thf.t's a
fact."
Mrs. Newrich—"I wonder what the pict
ure ie?'' , . .
Mr. Newrich— There it is, marked in
plain figgers—$18.07. 'Pears to me they
might have made it an even $18 while
they was about it."
THE WIDDY'S COW.
She Falls into the Clntches of the
Poundmaster.
Oakland has a poundmaster Darned
O'Connell, familiarly known as "Baby"
O'Connell, becanse he is big, blnff and
bnrly, weighs 225 pounds, and has all the
other destinctive attributes of an infant.
Of course he is hooted, hated and despised
like all other ponndmasters, says the San
Francisco Examiner, bat he doesn't lose
any flesh or any salary on that account.
Oae day while making his daily rounds hs
lassoed a stray cow belonging to a poor,
decrepit widow of West Oakland The
widow soon spied her sole support tailing
off afier the pound wagon, went iit parson,
overhauled O'Connell, and tearfully plead
ed with him:
"Oh, Mihster O'Connell, give me back
my cow, that's a good man that yon are.
Shu re au' the darlint's me sole means of
obtainin' me livin'. Now, that's a good
poundmaD; share an' ye wouldn't rob a
poor widdy."
"Who!" said O'Connell. "Widdy is it?
Thim cows is $4 ier widdies. Anyone else
the same."
"But I have no $4 ter give ye," protested
the widow; and with this she broke into a
wail which brought to her side her four
under-grown children of assorted sizes, and
also congregated the neighborhood.
"Four dollars !" said O'Connell, proudly
sitting his box and gazing off into the fair
blue empyrean as he slowly moved his
whip stock up and down as if in deep in
trospection.
"Ah ! yer great big, blackhearted vil
lain !" spoke up Mr. Fiynn, who had local
political aspirations. "Why don't yer give
the poor widdy her cow?"
"Four dollars !"
"Yer're bloated wid yer own importance.
Yer're fat wid ther thievin's of yer trade,
which no man wid an ioty of sel-iespecht
would foller. Be dacent just once in yer
miserable existence and give back the cow.
Ye'll never miss it from yer stealin's."
"Four dollars!"
"Ah, ye're harder than Pharaoh's heart,
yer stoopid fool. But I'll get ye the foor
dollars. I'm up ter give foor bits. Now,
neighbors, let's git back the poor widdy's
CcW."
So Mr. Flynn, with aspirations, passed
his somewhat battered hat, and on top of
his own bright half dollar slowly accumu
lated an assortment of nickels and dimes
with an occasional quarter. Mr. Flynn
divided his volubility between a heroic
abase of the poundmaster and an earnest
appeal to the charitable. But when each
ultimate nickel seemed wrung from the by
standers a count of the returns showed
only $3 65 in the hat.
"There, now, take that and let the cow
go," said Mr. Flynn boldly, proffering the
collection. "Make np the odd cints off the
cows of the rich, which yer never dare to
touch."
Then he threw the cow's rope and all
the money into the poor woman's lap,
lifted his hat and slapped his horses sharp
ly with reins. As he drove away he turned
his head back toward the gaping, as
tonished crowd, saying with lofty scorn :
"Yer a fine lot, ye are! Ye'd let a poor
old widdy stharve right here under yer
freckled pug noses if a* filanthropist didn't
cam along now and then to make yer give
np some o' them nickels yer squeezin' till
the goddess o' liberty looks likeaThehama
street chippy. Go on wid yez fur a par
cel o' misers! Git oop Bob; they're no
company fur th' dogs in ther crate."
" Four dollars! " came again the grimly
epigrammatic reply, "the Baby " stolidly
gazing into opaline space.
The wrath of the crowd broke loose at
this. Men, women and children went into
the depth of their nnderstandiDg to fish up
billingsgate to heap upon the despicable
dog-catcher. Bnt oaths, shrieks, detraction
and defamation had no effect. Stolid and
solemn O'Connell sat, emitting at intervals
his only îeply, "Four dollars!"
Finally the hat went round again. Th> re
was another wringing of pockets, and the
full fee was at last raised. Mr. Flynn
passed it np with a menace. O'Connell
coanted it carefally, weighed and noted
each piece to see that nothing was bogus.
"Hold your apron, old woman," he said at
length to the widow.
Franklin's Advice to Parents.
Benjamin Franklin's views on the train
ing of children were Bet forth in a letter ad
dreased to a lady, congratulating her npon
the well being of her baby boy, whom she
had announced as having cot five teeth.
He wrote:
"Pray let him have everything he likes.
I think it of great consequence while the
features ot the countenance are forming; it
gives them a pleasant air, and one that be
comes fixed and nataral by habit; the face
is ever handsomer afterward for it, and on
that mnch of a person's good fortune and
success in life may depend." Franklin
did not mean by this that the child should
be given all the food it wanted, bnt that it
shonld be surrounded by pleasant objects
for its amusement and diversion. Who
has not seen the scowl of discontent npon
the face of an infant deepen and become a
permanent effect—life-long proof of the
discomforts of its baby-hood ? Verily the
sins of the parents are visited npon their
helpless children.
After a few more telling arguments in
favor of the child, the writer says: "Al
ways believe a child—at least do not ex
press yonr unbelief if yon can
help it. If the little fellow sees
that yon rely npon bis word, he
feels an increased respect for the troth and
for himself, nntil at length bis character
for probity will become matured and estab
lished." Many an exceptionally imagina
tive child is unable to distinguish between
facts and fancies, as fairy tales and Mother
Goose melodies quite bewilder hi9 brain
with their semblance of reality. Such
children are apt to con j are np carions sto
ries in which trath and fiction are hope
lessly confnsed, and will relate them in all
seriousness.
Shaved Sheep W ith the Mumps.
Pat and Mike, two verdant Irishmen
from the "Old Sod," came across a drove of
fine Berkshire hogs while traversing a
country road.
Not being well acquainted with Ameri
can pork in its live state, Pat inquired of
his friend, "What might be the name of
thim animals with the fat cheeks?" With
true Irish wit Mike replied: "Foith and
thim looks to me loike shaved shape wid
the mumps."—[Life.]
Mtfi
m
'"■'■■■^C2^££y=i^£s£rÀ/. y'- **
OLIVER «JOHNSON,
A Pioneer ot the Anti-slavervlMove
ment.
Oliver Johnson, a pioneer of the abolition
movement, the friend of Garrison, Phillips,
Beecher, Greeley and Sumner, is critically
ill in Brooklvn He was born in a farm
house in Peacham. Vermont, in December,
1809. At sixteen years he went to Moot
pelier to learn the printing business. He
became an editor in 1831. Thirty of his
best years of vigorous manhood were spent
in the anti slavery agitation, as journalist,
lecturer and writer of pamphlets. He was
a staff writer on the World in i s Repub
lican period dnriDg the later fifties, and be
came editor ot a religious newspaper in
New York in 1865, holding the office five
years, after which he edited tne New York
Weekly Tribune for three years. Since then
he has continued to do literary work in
New York or the neighborhood. Oliver
Johnson was married to his first wife in
1832. He took another mate in 1873. Both
his wives were daughters of ministers. In
bis youth Mr. Johnson joined the Congre
gational denomination. His views in later
life underwent considerable modification
in a direction probab'y unsatisfactory to
those of his friends holding orthodox views.
Of his published works, his "William Lloyd
Garrison and his Times " is the most im
portant.
■/S',
J
t.
m
urn
I
m
mz
m
mi
r
/S 'C'r>/SS.'f'/?£/js M v
HORACE BOIES.
Governor-Elect of the State of Iowa.
Horace Boies, elected on the Democratic
ticket Governor of Iowa, is a native of
Erie counly. New York, 62 years old, and
first practiced law at Buffalo. In the war
period he was a «turdy Union man, and a
member of the Republican party long afier.
He has for years actively opposed prohibi
tion and as a Republican, in 1883, he pro
tested against the action of his party in
Iowa with regard to it. On this issue, the
following year, he voted with the Demo
crats and supported Cleveland for Presi
dent, staying with that party since Boies
is a total abstainer. He advocates the use
of "those great moral forces on which the
cause of true temperance, like that if re
ligion, must continue to rely or cease to
exist;" hat he opposes what he calls "the
unpopular power of legal coercion" as em
ployed against the nseof liquors.
m
4M
Wk
JOHN J KEANE, D. D
Rector of the Washington Catholic
Divinity School.
No time was lost after the dedication of
the Divinity School at Washington. The
next day fitly stndlnts were bard at work.
Dr. Keaoe, late Bishop of Richmond, is
rector ot the university so hopefully begun.
We give a portrait of this learned divine,
who was born at Ballyshannon, (Jonnty
Donegal, Ireland, September 12, 18 «9. He
was brought to America when seven years
of age His family settled in Baltimore, in
1848, the city in which the Bishop received
his elementary ednea'ion. He made his
classical studies at St. Charles College.
Howard County, Md., and his theological
course at St. Mary's Seminary, Baltimore.
This eminent man was ordained in the
year 1866, immediately after which he was
stationed at St. Patrick's Church, Wash
ington, where he remained twelve years.
He was consecrated Bishop of Richmond on
August 25,1878.
JIM TOWNSEND IN CARSON.
He Has a Pocket Full of Reeks, and
Paints the City.
[Carson Appeal. 1
Yesterday morning the editor of the
Appeal was passing Thompson's restaurant,
when suddenly he was aware of a strong
hand grasping his coat collar, and a mo
ment later he was whisked into the res
taurant by an irresistible force.
"Hullo, yon old- , bless my regener
ate soul; how are you?"
It wasatonce apparent to the editorial
mied that the writer had fallen into the
clutches of Jim Towr.send, editor of the
Homer Mining Index , otherwise known as
the "Mono Counly Snowslide." It was the
same old Jim that left Carson three years
ago and he had not changed a hair. His
old iamiliar salutation, with him a term ol
endearment, came ont with thî old fog-horn
accents.
"Sit down," he shouted, and help me
paralyze the clams. Don't care if yon have
had breakfast; Bit down, I say," and
he downed the writer with a powerful
jerk.
"I say, waiter, bring on two dozen on the
half shell, two dozen of those clams; call
'em oysters, do ye? So long since I saw aDy
I've torgotten the name. You can't tell
wbat they are after I get my molar stamps
droppin' on 'em. Hy, there, I say, some
tenderloin stake, two virgin pallets on
toast and a quart bottle of rode-rio."
The waiter began to move around, but
Dot qnite rapid enongh for James, and he
called him back.
" 'There, my boy, you must skip with
considerable alacrity. I've got a Mill
Creek appetite, and here's Mill Creek bul
lion to pay for it."
Here he took ont a large sack and began
to thump the table with it.
"*I don't hit. civilization often. Why,
old boy, last Friday night I had to go to
bed on snow-thoes.
"'That's right; chuck those clams—oys
ters, I mean, down lively, and I'll shout for
more. I say, wafier, two dozen more oys
ters, and set the kid to opening more Re
member you're feeding three years of star
vation on Mill Creek.
"Hot out there in the summer, do you
say! Well, rather; last Fourth of July I
had to keep ice in my mouth all day to
keep my teeth from sweating.
".-ay, waiter, pat another bottle on ice,
and see that when yon paste the label on
that it's the right one.
"Hey, there, come back; if that was
Charley Thompson that just passed, go out
and snake lnm in. Haven't eaten with
Charley for years."
The waiter rushed out and soon returned
with Thompson.
"Sit down, you old -, and help us eat.
Get out some more bivalves and husk the
shells off the top side of the varmints and
poke the Btove under 'em.
"Sit down,Charley; waiter,another bottle.
How do I feel? Finei'n a cut off shot gun.
"Here, fasten your grinder into that
maiden pullet and fill up your glass.
"Book keeping mnch now, Charlie? Well
my uncle Mose, killed in the siege of Luck
now, was a lightning striker at figures.
I've seen him stumble over a toombstone
on a dark night blind drank, and in the
morning when he got up tell you the
weight of the corpse when it died. He'd
figure up niue columns—waiter, more oys
ters, dozen all round, and get some more
on deck, for we're still a cornin'.
"What these fellows don't get away with
I'll take myself. We want something to
stay our stomachs until dinner time.
"Which way? I'm off for London to
night, . nd I'm heeled with the scads. I'll
take some chunks of gold specimens there
that I'll make Victoria want some shares
of the mine.
"Mining, dy'e call it? Stoplight therd.
Don't ever talk of mining in Lundy, it's
quarrying. We take the metal oat in
blocks.
"Have you those other three dozen oys
ters ready, waiter? We don't want to
wait all the morning for oysters. Keep
cooking and keep bringin'; ran till we
holler quit.
"Smother them trout in cream when yon
cook 'em, and get the half-shells in here
lively.
"What! not use cream in Lundy? I have
cream all the year round; yon get butter
from SacremeDto; chuck it into a churn
and run it baikwards a spell ; you ran it
right back into cream. See?"
After about twelve dozen oysters had
been disposed of, Townsend began to show
signs of abating his onslaught on the meal
and said briefly:
"Naff oysters."
"Here is the beefsteak and the fish yon
ordered," said the waiter, bringing them in.
"Just chuck the fish back into the wagon
and salt the meat down till I get back
from London," said Jim as he settled the
score and started np the street.
He was around all day coating the city
with a-strong Vermillion hue, and is doubt-
less, by this time on his way to London.
-77- A Curiosity of Dates.
[Indianapolis News )
Said a hotel clerk : "I picked np a bit
of information the other day that I hadn't
thought of before. A couple of men were
talking in the office, when one asked on
what day of the week Christmas will be
this year. 'Let's see,' replied the other, T
was married on the 1st day of May. That
was Wednesday. Christmas will come on
Wednesday.' That struck me forcibly and
when I got a little leisure I gathered up a
a lot of old calendars and investigated it.
I found that it is true that the first day of
may and Christmas of the same year in
vaiiably occur on thee same day of the
week." Yon hadn't thought of it before,
hid you ? Yet it's a fact.
William's Crown.
[Paria Letter to The Jewellers' Weekly.]
Emperor William has a much smaller
head than his father and grandsire, and the
imperial crown, therefore, does not fit him.
A new one was ordered several months
ago, and it was sent to Berlin on Monday,
the 14th. This new emblem of sovereignty
weighs less than three pounds, although
made of massive gold; therefore the head
beneath will not be so uneasy after all. It
is ornamented with 109 diamonds, the ball
which snrmonnte it consisting of a simple
polished sapphire.
The Empress is also to have a new crown
as well as her lord and master There will
be less gold abont it and more stones, 1,500
diamonds of different sizes mixed with a
few pearls.
*V
W
HENR K IBSEN
I he Prevailing Dramatic Genius in
f ngland.
The odd-looking Ibsen, of whom we give
the latest portrait, is the literary sensation
in England. H's dramas are being pre
sented in Germany, and will soon be per
formed in Russ a. Io our own country
they are becoming popular, and an Ibsen
Club has been started in B >s on. Ibsen is
the literary man of ihe period.
He was boro at Skien, a small town on
the sont h coast of Norway, on March 20,
1828. His parents were in fair'y good cir
cumstances at the time of his birth, but
when Henrik was only eight years old his
father died, and the family were plunged
into a condition of extreme poverty. At
sixteen young Ibsen was bound apprentice
to a druggist doing business at Grinstad.
Six years la't r he wen* to Christiana,
and ent< red the t-chrol < f Heltterg. Be
fore ahandonmg the pursuit ot medicine
Ibsen had made some literary a tempts
which were unsuccessful In 1851 Ole
Bull appointed him director of the Nation
al Theatre at Bergen, where he began to
dream of dramatic fame Ibsen was made
artistic director • f 'he Norwegian Theatre
at Christiana in 1858. He made mon»y in
this office, and in 1^64 changed his resi
dence for one more helpful to literary un
dertakings than he found in Norway.
Ibsen has lived succetsively in Rome,
Ischia, Dresden and Munich. He is a bach
elor, solitary in his habits and a dreamer in
his views on social questions. He has
written a new play at the rate of one every
two years, s nee the time when he first
took up the pen of the dramatic writer.
W
h
o'm
&
m
GiUSEPPI VEKDI.
An Opera that has Survived Fitly
Years.
On November 17th Verdi will celebrate
the performance of his first opera, which
took place at the Teatro alia Scala, Milan,
Italy, on the same date in the year 1839.
In the tame theatre, in 1886, was produced
his last opera, 'Otelio." Tnis is a harmo
nious protest agaiLst Wagner, and a return
to the simple purity of Italian opera in its
best school.
Ginseppi Verdi, who is still in good
health, was born in 1810. in the Duchy of
Parma, where his father was an innkeeper.
He received his musical education at
Milan. In 1839 his first work, "Oberto di
San Bonifazio," was produced in the Sca.u
of that city. Other works of this eminent
musician than those already mentioned are
"Ernani," 1844, "Rigoletto," 1851, "Trova
tore," 1853, "Traviata," 1854, and "Mac
beth," 1865. Verdi regards "Otelio" as his
greatest work. He was a member of the
Italian Parliament in 1861, and a Senator
in 1872.
Fourteen Mistakes of Life.
"The mistakes of my life have been
many," sings the poet. Most people will
endorse the poet's lament, and say that
there is no limit to the mistakes of life;
that they are in nnmber as the sands of the
sea. Bat it is well to be accurate, and a
recent volume, entitled "Wives and Daugh
ters," informs U9 that somebody has pre
pared a definite and limited estimate of the
fondamental errors that hnman nature is
prone to. Here they are, fourteen in num
ber:
It is a great mistake to set np onr own
standard of right and wrong, and jadge
people accordingly ; to measure the enjoy
ment of oiheis by our own ; to expect uni
formity ot opinion in this world ; to look
for judgemnt and experience in yonth ; to
endeavor to mould all dispositions alike;
to yield to immaterial trifles: to look for
perfection in onr own actions ; to worry
onrselve8 and others with what cannot be
remedied ; not to alleviate all that needs
alleviation as far as lies in onr power ; not
to make allowances for the infirmities of
others; to consider every hing impossible
that we cannot perform ; to believe only
wbat onr finite minds can grasp ; to expect
to be able to understand everything. The
greateet of mistakes is to live for time
alone, when aDy moment may launch ns
into eternity. _ _
Corrected in sense.
It is one great cause of trouble in this
world that the person who talks is think
iag of one thing, and the person who listens
is thinking of another.
Teacher—Johnnie, is it proper to say
"Peaches is better than watermelons?"
Johnnie ( who evidently has his likes
and dislikes)—No, ma'am.
Teacher—Well, yon may correct the
sentence.
Johnnie—Watermelons is better than
peaches. J «
SOME W VSH1NGTON YYKNS
Reagan as a Bunter.
IN. Y. Tribui
When the Texas Senator, Reagan, was a
boy in Kentucky the farmers around
brought their grain to the mill and had to
stand in line waiting their turn for the
grist. The mouth of the hopper was on
the third floor, and the miller stood at odc
side to help each one with his sack. Reagan
was waiting his turn one morning when a
big, hulking fellow, the bally of the coun
ty, stepped up and said:
"I won't wait for this-youngster.
Pnt my wheat in first."
The miller hesitated. It was against the
rules, but he was afraid of the bully, and
tina'ly reached out to help him turn it in.
"I came first," said Reagan, stoutly.
"Why didn't you get your wheat in
then ?" sneered the other. Dropping the
sack, Reagan made a battering ram of his
head and batted the big fellow clear across
the room to a third-story window, from
which with one push, he sent him to the
ground. Without waiting to see whether
his man was alive or dead, young Reagan
left the mill and made for the almost un
known Republic of Texas; not stopping
nntil after he bad crossed the Brazos. He
managed to obtain an office the same year,
and has held one ever since.
Due About Thad Stevens.
[New York Tribune. 1
Col. Thomas, one time, member of con
gress, was in the city this week, and among
tales of the old days told the following
about Thadeus Stevens:
"Tbaddeus Stevens was sitting in his
office one day with a few friends, when in
walked an old lady wearing a poke bonnet,
blue goggles and carrying a green alpaca
umbrella. She looked around the room as
if in search of some one, and then said
solemnly:
" 'Can yon tell me where to find Thad
dens Stevenp the apostle of liberty?'
" 'Oid Thad blushed.
" T am Tnaiideus Stevens, he replied
shortly.
" 'Are you Thad e-as Stevens the apostle
of liberty?'
" T reckon I am, ma'am "
"The old lady dropped her parasol, made
a rush toward Stevens lo kiss him, and
when he held her off, she said: „
" T came from Bucks county to see
Thad e us Stevens, the Apostle of Liberty
and to take home with me a lock of his
hair.'
"The Apostle cf Liberty took off his red
wig, handed it to her and said:
" 'There it is, ma'am. Take as much 89
you want.' "
How He Got a New Start.
I Washington Capital.)
The grandfather of the missing Belle
Brown is a hale and hearty old gentleman
of 80 odd years, rugged and bronzed. He
has lived all his life near Alexandria, Va.,
and before the war was a miller. The fol
lowing anecdote of the old gentleman was
related yesterday by a man who knows
him well :
"After the surrender," as all events oc
curring in the South since the war are
dated from, Mr. Brown found himself with
many of his neighbors "deal broke." He
had to begin life over again, and without
any capital,''for everything had gone up in
the whirlwind of destruction which devas
tated that part of Virginia. One day a quon
dam acquaintance who had some money
proposed to Mr. Brown to rent a flour mill
in the country near by and run it, Brown
to furnish the experience and labor and
the other the capital. The offer was at
once accepted. Mr. Brown rode ont to the
mill and rented it. Returning to town to
tecure ihe wherewithal to buy wheal and
begin operations, he was astonished to find
his partner had backed out. Not a cent
would he put up. Vainly did Mr. Brown
argue that his word was given for the rent
of the mill The partner would not come
to time. "Well, I'll have to run it myself,"
was the resolve of the sturdy miller, and
straightway he stalked up to the bank.
"I want to open an account here. Give
me a bank-book and a check book " Leav
ing his Signatare he went off with the
blanks and started for the mill. Meeting
a farmer with a load of wheat, he bought
the wheat and tendered his check in pay
ment, it being then afier banking hours.
"It's too late to get the money on yonr
check to-day," he explained to the farmer
bat you can get it to morrow."
"Ob, that's all right. "I'll fetch you an
other load of wheat first."
The purchase of wheat was delivered at
the mill. Mr. Brown turned to and pnt
all hands to work, and by midnight had
the wheat ground into fionr and barreled.
Early the next morning th<vfionr was at
the commission merchant's ^iirehonse in
Alexandria, an advance of money secured
on it, and when the bank opened Mr Brown
was the first man to make a deposit. That
is the way he got a new start.
Two Heartless Parrots.
An amnsing story is told of a wealthy
old lady who had frequently expressed k*r
intention of leaving all her money to her
faithful servant. One day the servant waa
sitting in the kitchen talking with her
sweetheart, when she said: " 1 wish th«
old lady was dead."
A parrot which belonged to the lady had
overheard this wicked remark, and every
time its mis'ress was in its presence it
cried: "I wish the old lady was dead."
The lady getting annoyed at hearing it so
often, went to her minister and told him
abont it, upon which he promised to send
a parrot of his, which was a very religions
one, to stay beside hers for a day or two,
and see if it would convert it. This w as
doue, and the lady going into tne rocm.
where they were kept a few days after,
was rather taken aback at hearing her own
parrot cryiDg ont, "I wish the old lady was
dead," and the minister's responding in
solemn tones. "AmeD, amen."
Lunch a la Boston.
[Pittsburg Bulletin.j
First Boston Girl—Got any pickles in
yonr pocket?
Second Boston Girl—Yes, and some gum.
First Boston Girl—Thai's all right. I've
got some cold beans and two slate pencils.
Let's lnncb,