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The Western news. (Stevensville, Mont.) 1890-1977, May 14, 1902, Image 6

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TIMELY TOPICS
If there Is only one unpardonable sin
It must be insincerity.
In one way a bad habit is like a bill
Collector. It is bard to get away from.
The best way to puuish the brigands
Will be to cut off their missionary sup
ply.
He is a wise father who knows his
own child was as much at fault as the
ether man's.
Some meu are kept so busy main
taining their dignity that they haven't
time to earn a decent liviug.
It is probably safe to say that no ti
tled European will be able to marry
Hetty (1 teert for her money.
In order to be at her silver wedding
anniversary a woman is willing to ad
mit that she isn't as young as she used
to be.
"Ping to me only with thine eyes,
and 1 will pong with mine." That's
the way they are playing the game
over in l.imuou.
An esteemed contemporary says that
any attempt to run down Niagara Fails
is lese majesty in this country. More
often it's suicide.
An editor wants to know what
would happen if Prince Henry and
Admiral Evans should ever meet in
battle. We give it up. What's the an
swer?
"Is the press degenerating?" asks
the Lite: ary Digest. We think not.
The repu; a hie press seems to be hold
ing its own. and the yellows cannot de
generate.
All tlie pulpit and platform elo
quence ia ill.* world doesn't make as
much for g iod government as a little
wholesome activity before and at the
pri mar.es.
Under The Hague treaty prisoners of
war may 1»» employed by the state
capturing rli -in. History may contain
the thrilling deli: "The old guard dies,
but never works!"
.Sir Henry Irving has launched the
keenest ci. icism against the Baconian
theory au.l it can lie put in a sentence.
He says that it took an actor to write
Shakspcaic's plays and that no mere
poet or philosopher could have done it.
The indications are that Uncle Sam's
door will not "swing inward" on its
hinges as readily in the future as it
has in the past, in order to be admit
ted the immigrant will have to give
the password, "Fitted for good citizen
ship."
President Eiiot of Harvard in his ad
dress coni'' wring the degree of doctor
of laws on Prince Henry spoke of the
''venerable American union" and the
"young Gorman empire," and thus
wisely called attention to a fact hith
erto unrecognized in Europe, that t;he
American republic is not on trial, but
has proven itself worthy to live by 125
years of glorious history in war and
peace.
A mining expert recently described a
lode as traversing "a metamorphie
matrix of a somewhat arglllourena
ceous composition." This means, liter
ally, "a changed mass of a somewhat
■ciayey-saudy composition." This in its
turn may lie translated into plain En
glish as m u d. Why choke a puny fact
With murderous polysyllables? Hux
ley and Darwin, Lyell and Faraday
■could so write as to be "unders tandis!
of the people." and there is a suspicion
«broad in these times that the big
words so freely used by small men are
« device to conceal Ignorance and inex
act thought rather than a proof of su
perior knowledge.
Bishop Potter says that when he has
been traveling in Europe or visiting
public places he has never heard a loud
or harsh vojee raised above the tone of
others around him without turning
with a shudder of apprehension to find
If the voice were that of a fellow coun
tryman. Are Americans in so much
haste that they do not take time to
modulate their voices? That conclu
slon is more probable than that the air
of freedom is not favorable to an agree
able utters nee. A man Is known by
the voice he keeps. Identification Jg
Just as practicable when a woman
«peaks. Iu the cultivation of good
manners the vocal chords must not be
forgotten.
What's the use of crowding, anyway'
ifhere's uo need of anyone being jos
tied off the map. There's plenty of
room. When the crowd begins to push
and shove and the struggle for stand
Ing room grows strenuous and the
strife for dollars becomes too fierce
Just step over into Labrador. This is
an age of expansion. If there isn't
room enough for you to expand in our
new insular possessions Labrador, with
lia vast expanse of unoccupied terri
tory, holds out its icy arms to you and
«ays, "Come." The census returns for
1801 show a total population for Labra
dor of 3,<*34, which indicates a falling
-off of 472 from the returns of the pre
ceding census. As Labrador has au
area of 200,000 square miles it will be
seen that there is plenty of room for
the ambitious young man to grow up
and expand with the country. In fact,
there is more room In Labrador than
there was in 1891, for 472 persons have
moved out. It is difficult to account for
this decline in population. Labrador
has plenty of space and a braciug at
mosphere. Its cold storage facilities
are unsurpassed except in Greenland
and In the office of Russell Sage. The
people who are cramped and crowded
and who clamor for more room should
cast their eye toward Labrador.
Again comes the old question, "What
Is the good of money if it will not buy
the things that one desires?" A
wealthy lady of Chicago has more
money than she can possibly use. She
can draw a big check as ensily as most
persons can spend a nickel. But the
thing she wanted was a child, a laugh
ing. rosy-cheeked cherub, to put both
arms arouud her nfcek and make her
realise the real, deep meaning of love;
to round out her life and make her
happy. So she looked around and
found a bit of a boy, who had cap
tured sunshine tangled in his hair and
love in his blue eyes, n brave mouth
and a sturdy little figure. He was
one of seven children, and he didn't
know that his mother, a widow, was
wearing out her life to provide food
for the seven. The rich lady borrowed
the boy for a time and carried him
away to fairyland. She bohght fine
clothing for him, toys enough to stock
a store, and loved him, too. She had
a great artist paint the child's por
tiait, aud she discovered that it was
going to be- very hard to return this
human blossom. Oue day she called
on his mother and offered $5,000 for
him. "I'll adopt him. I love him.
You have so many, and I have none,"
she ventured. And the widow looked
over her flock and said: "I can't spare
me; no, not for a million dollars," aud
she drew her baby to lier heart. The
good wife of a New York garment
trimmer presented him with triplets.
It raised his family census to nine. At
tlie very liest the father can earn $12 a
week. That is a situation that would
drive some men to suicide. But he
said: "I'm glad they came. God 1ms
blessed me with them, and we will get
along somehow. 1 haven't oue too
many." Child-love dwarfs every oth
er human passion. It makes men and
women carry heavy burdens without a
murmur; it makes them accept self
denial patiently, and glorifies lives.
There is scarcely a home in the land,
uo matter how great its poverty,
where, for mere money, a man or
woman would part with even oue of a
little tlock, and the reason is hilman
love for its own blood.
Hitherto, when the time has come
around for taking the national census,
the entire force engaged in the work,
from the director down to the humblest
clerk, has been assembled at short no
tice. Few of the many thousands em
ployed have had previous training or
experience in the peculiar duties of a
census. When the work was done the
force was disbanded, leaving only
printed reports to enable the next corps
of workers to profit by its knowledge
and to avoid its errors. This method
is so wasteful that repeated efforts
have been made to establish a perma
nent census service, which should carry
along some branches of statistical In
vestigation in the intervals between
censuses, and be capable of expansion
for the full census work when the de
cennial year arrived. This suggestion
was made before the eleventh census
was taken, but without result. Tlie
proposition was renewed before tlie
twelfth census was taken, and a bill
emboiying it passed the House, but
failed in the Senate. The bill upon
which both houses of Congress have
now agreed, although it is open to criti
cism from the civil service reform point
of view in its provisions for covering
present employes into the classified
service, is highly commendable iu its
main purpose. The bill confines the de
cennial work of the bureau to the sub
jeets of population, agriculture, vital
statistics and manufactures, and leaves
the other subjects now covered by the
census, and some new ones, to be dealt
with more deliberately by the smaller
permanent force. The new system will
make it possible to broaden the census
inquiries without increased expense or
delay in the publication of results. A
permanent census bureau can co-oper
ate with States and local officers, and
can open up new fields of study. The
next enumeration will be more difficult
than previous ones, because it will in
elude the Insular possessions of the
United States. It will be a great gain
to enter upon that work with au al
ready organized bureau, directed anil
largely manned by experts, instead of
committing it to an improvised force.
Biggest Railroad Station.
The city of St Louis now possesses
the distinction of having the largest
railway station In the United States.
It Is 630 feet long and 600 feet wide,
and has thirty tracks, enough to han
dle ten incoming and ten outgoing
trains simultaneously. It is known as
the Union Station, and the territory
owned by the company operating it
covers twenty-seven acres.
The city of Boston has the next to
the largest station for passenger ser
vice Id the country. The Union Sta
tion in Boston, on the north side, has
a length of 500 feet, a width of 460
feet and twenty-three tracks.
Both of these huge stations are to be
surpassed by the new Southern Union
Station in Boston, upon which work
was begun in January, 1897, and
which is now nearing completion. It
is designed to be the biggest railroad
station in the United States. The walls
nre built, the steelwork is all in place,
and the material Ismn the ground for
fhe completion of the structure.—The
Ledger Monthly.
The fare on the Congo railroad for
250 miles is $100, or 40 cents a mile.
WHEN JUDY 8INQ8.
Whin Judy sings.
Sure. quane8 an' kings
Attind wid looks surprois.n'.
The woods an' bills
Sind jocund thrilla
Horizon to horizon.
The ichoes mate
To cercuiate
Her honey-laden quavers.
An' angels pause
To give applause
To her entrancin' favors.
The little thrush,
Wid many a blush
For his own song-creation^
Cocks up his ear,
Surproised to hear
Sich heavenly modulations.
The brazes lay
Their flutes away,
As be some myst'ry h'anted,
An' Music's silf
Gits on the shilf
An' howlds her brith enchanted.
Hut man! So schwate
Her v'ice tw'ud bate
Fantazy or aytudy.
An* Sitzy's band!
They'd quit the land
Ef once they'd hear my Judy.
-Richmond Dispatch.
HOW ROD WON
MANHOOD
çrp HE inquisitive branches of the
II cottonwood tree that peeped
through the windows of the frame
school house at Gray Creek had wit
nessed many'excitiug things since that
pioneer building was opened. But the
greatest, though least noisy, seusatiou
occurred upon a November morning,
when they shed their last leaf on the
head of a new pupil, who passed un
hesitatingly through tlie school grounds,
and took his seat among a score, of
rough hut punctual scholars, awaiting
the arrival of their teacher.
These tall lads and fresh-cheeked
girls, who had started in with zest
when seliool opened in this Kansas
valley, looked as if they had already
begun to feel proud of their miniature
republic, aud jealous of Its honor. The
majority scowled in dismay, as if tlie
very spirit of disorder had appeared
among them, when the new pupil, a
boy of 15, timidly seated himself,
throwing glances of appeal and defi
ance at his future class mates. "Hello!
who's that feller? Haiu't seen him be
fore since school started," said Curley
Wiggin, stretching five feet eleven of
ignorance, and nudging Jem Tracy, his
neighbor.
"Huh! don't you know who he is?"
gurgled Jem, iu incredulous excite
ment. He—lie's Rod Dixon, son of Big
Dixon, who was caught last fall for
train wreckin' over in Haymare Coun
ty! Rod's gran'-dad has took charge o'
him now—Old Man Barber, o' Spruce
Hill ranch." v
."Son of a train wrecker! Huh! don't
know as teacher ought to admit him to
this school," blustered Curley, glancing
at the new feller on the front bench,
who shivered as if a gust had struck
him, for Curley's bossing whisper was
very audible. "He sort o' looks as if he
had gallons o' wild blood iu him. Guess
he'll never turn out a decent citizen,
anyhow!"
"If—if you say that again, I'll lick
you, big as you are! I guess I am go
ing to turn out a decent citizen; lam
going to do the right sort o' thing—an'
make a man o' myself!"
The new boy had jumped to his feet,
facing his dozen young judges with
this roar, which would have been sav
age if it hadn't trembled over tears.
His face was a mixture of precocious
daring and appeal. His chest heaved
and heaved, until his challenge was
Hung out again by some awakening
power within.
"Why—why can't I be a decent citi
zen as well's you?" he gasped. Ids
voice seeming to burst a husk of feel
ing. Why ain't I fit for this school? I
never done nothing."
But just here the courage of tlie out
law's son seemed to fail him; and his
shame swept upon him like a deluge,
until his voice sank and was drowned
in it. Swaying like tlie bare branches
of the cottonwood tree beyond the win
dow, to which his eyes turned as if
for help he wheeled round and dropped
hopelessly into his seat again, as a sun
rimmed shadow streaked the floor, and
the tall figure of the teacher came into
an uncomfortable silence.
The room grew stiller yet—and stiller,
until the unusual lull appeared ominous
to Mr. Meyers, who gazed around for
signs of brewing mischief. He could
detect none. Every scholar's gaze was
focused on his face, trying to read its
puzzling page, as he called the new
pupil to his desk, to learn his age, name
and address. Curley Wiggin, recover
ing his breath, whispered to Jem that
the teacher looked kinder struck as lie
identified this addition to his school.
But the smile with which he dismissed
Rod to his place was full of light; it
seemed to the quivering boy to illumine
those distant peaks of manhood which
he had set out to climb; it gilted black
board aud lesson book till they caught
bis wayward thoughts.
"Yaas, he done pretty good this morn
ing. But shucks! he won't stick to it;
he'll be playing hookey inside of a
week, an' the sooner the better. I guess
we don't want any wrecker's cub
here!" said Curley, liis severe judge,
again discussing Rod during recess.
And again Rod, concealed by the cot
ton wood's broad trunk, heard and
trembled. Now, Instead of flaring up,
he seemed to turn cold, as if ail his
hopes were popped into a refrigerator.
With a reckless grunt lie drew his cap
over his eyes aud disappeared through
the gate.
"If I'm going to play hookey before
the week's out. I may as well begin
now!" he gasped through his shut
teeth, swallowing something more acid
than vinegar. "I—1 guess it ain't mucu
use trying to do the right sort o' thing.
1—I guess It's the bad that'll win out."
He was sobbing now, big, unheaving
sobs, that made him tear along bllud
ly, trying to outrun his weakness. Rod
this morning had a queer feeling,
which lately attacked him more than
once during his lonely ranch life with
his grandfather, as if a brute and an
angel were fighting in him. And. though
be understood nothing about the help
tul influence of one boy's faith in an
other. he felt through and through him
that Curley's hopeless predictions had
powerfully strengthened the brute.
He flung himself down at last, weary
and choking, on a brown mat of leaves
in the corner of an unfamiliar orchard.
A well was near, and presently hauling
up the bucket, he took a long drink of
rather doudy-looklng water, trying to
cool his fever within.
"Papa won't let me drink that water
less'n It's boiled," said a sudden and
shrill voice behind him. "He—he says
there's—there's searecrobes In it."
"Scarecrolies!" ejaculated Rod, drop
ping the bucket with a wild splash,
and turning on a golden-faced little
girl who had stolen unheard over the
moist leaves. "Seareerobes!" be re
peated. mystified, wondering what un
known monster dwelt iu tlie well, for
he had not been long enough at school
to guess that she meant microbes.
"You—yon was kying!" declared the
child, looking up at his eyes with grave
conviction. "Guess you oughter ask God
to take that tniser'ble face off you,
same's matnma makes me do when I
feels had."
"Who—who's your pap-pa?" gasped
Rod. staring at this free little preacher
in numh surprise.
"He teaches school down to Gray
Creek." was the quiek reply. "Guess
yon's one of his boys an' you runned
away to-day—you's bad!"
"I'm not," roared the goaded boy,
desperately, heaving out his heart se
cret. "I—I want to be good!"
She shyly retreated two steps, fright
ened at his vehemence, but the minia
ture well of a woman's pity bubbled in
the child's breast.
"Then 1 guess you will be—good,"
she faltered, after a doubtful minute,
tlie sun of confidence lighting her
golden face. "See!" kicking among the
leaves. "I—I broke my wheel; it can't
run any more."
"Show me! Perhaps I can fix it,"
proposed Rod. in a strange glow of in
terest: it seemed ages since he had done
anything for a girl, for one year is
sometimes to a boy as a thousand, but
there had been a small sister who died
when his mother died.
He set eagerly to work with his
pocket knife, pine splinters, and string
which the child fetched from her home.
She brought, too. a piece of ginger
bread. warm from the touch of her lit
tle hand, and a mug of clearer water.
"Guess you's hungry, or you would
not lia' felt so bad!" she said, reason
ing from her own small experienced as
she pushed the spiced bread under his
nose.
Rod quickly discovered that he was
hollow as a drum, but for a minute he
could not attend to that feeling because
of another which occupied aim; it
seemed as if a cold band which hnd
been tightened round his heart strangl
ing for the last hour ills desire to make
a man of himself, suddenly loosened
and set him free again.
He felt three parts a man already,
while he labored for this child, and
she trusted him, cuddling down on tlie
leaves beside him, healing tlie chafed
sore in his heart, until lie rublied his
freckled face against lier shoulder, feel
ing as if lie were wiping off smears of
sensitiveness and shame.
So Mr. Meyers found tlie pair later,
when he returned home with tlie weari
ness of many hours' struggle with Ig
norance on his face. Rod had then dis
covered that his friend's name was
Margery, and that she was the Gray
Creek teacher's only child. He rose in
great trepidation. .
"So you eut school this afternoon,
Dixon," said the man, in a rallying
tone. "I didn't imagine you were such
o mushy sort of a fellow as to quit so
soon because of anything the other boys
might say."
Rod had not thought it himself until
to-day. He gazed down at Margery's
head, and then up. with a flush under
his freckles, and his half-healed heart
shining in his eyes.
"Pm not going to be a quitter!" he
said resolutely. "I—I'm going to do
the right sort o' thing."
"That's good!" answered the teach
er, heartily, and passed on, muttering
something about letting that boy work
out his own salvation, with Margery's
help. But In a few minutes he appeared
at his door again.
"Say, Dixon," he colled* out, "there
is to be a spelling match this evening
over at Englewood between our school
and the Englewood boys. Don't you
want to come along and hear the fun ?
I'm going to tramp over with some of
our fellows. We can come back on the
11:15 train from Burlington; that'll
drop us three miles from home."
Rod looked grateful, but his asseu:.
or dissent, was unintelligible. Aud at
li o'clock that evening when Mr. Myers
and his champion spellers, with one or
two spectators going along for sport,
mustered under the school cottonwood
lie was not among them.
John Rodwell Dixon, whose twogirst
names ba4 beeif abbreviated by his
wild father to Rod. was at that hour
perched on a bowlder near his grand
father's ranch house, tracing with his
eyes tlie route through tlie valley be
neath which the Gray Creek detach
ment would take on its -way to the spell
ing match.
"I guess I'd have liked the fun real
wall,' %e muttered, with a. cold choke
ln hl« threat; "an' Mr. Meyers—he's all
right. But the boys-—
He sprang up suddenly, and began to
hustle his evening chores; well he
knew Curley Wiggins and the other
boyfe would have looked sourly on a
wrecker's cub among the picked band
which was to uphold the honor of their
school. : But Rod, determined not to be
a mushy sort of fellow, gave himself
no time for self-pity. And when, two
hours inter, he flung off jacket and
shoes, and huddled down by the moon
whitened window of the little room
where he slept, he was too tired to
think of any- one but • Margery—her
queer talk about scarecrobea, and the
like—and to watch the silver twilight
stealing through the valley.
As this grew brighter be could dis
tinguish the curving railroad by which
the boys would return from Englewood,
and the long bridge of Iron and wood
where their train must dash over a
deep, darl: gully. He heard a heavy
freight thunder across now; the sparks
gay scarlet motes, which struck from
the rails, seemed fluttering toward
him. His remembrance of Margery
blurred Into a recollection of his gen
tle. honest mother. With a prayer
which she had taught him hovering on
his lips, Rod slept, and dreamed he was
making a man of himself, while he as
serted that manhood in blustering
snores.
When he woke there was a strange,
red change in the valley beneath him,
which he could not for a breathless min
ute understand.
Before his misted eyes darted fiery,
bewildering meteors, all seeming to
shoot out from tlie distant railway
bridge. Then suddenly and sharply liis
sight cleared, as if a knife hnd cut the
film from those terrified eyes. The
blood jumped in the chilled veins un
der ids thin shirt.
"My senses!" gasped Rod, feeling as
if these senses were oozing out through
ills suddenly damp skin. "It's—It's a
fire on the track! It's the bridge over
the gully—tlie trestle is burning!"
It required ten seconds for him to
swallow this awful fact, to realize the
tongues of flame curling out from the
wooden trestles which spanned the
gorge, the billowing smoke that resem
bled curdled moonlight, tlie red riot of
sparks. Then swift thoughts stung him
as the strokes of a whip.
"The train! the 11:15 passenger from
Burlington—Mr. Meyers an' the boys
coming on It. Tlint betid in tlie road!
Engineer can't see tlie bridge till he's
most on to it—train'll go into the gully!"
Rod's face flamed red. as if the glow
of the distant burning touched it.
Through tlie window he went at a
jump—lint less, shoeless, eontless—shud
dering from head to foot with the con
viction that no oue saw the fife but him
self, that the train must soon come
along, full speed, that only liis warn
ing could save it, for the bridge with
its flame-eaten trestles would surely
go.
"I've got to stop it!" he feebly gasped.
"Father was In a gang that wrecked
one. an' I— I guess I'm hitting the
ground in high places now!" as he
leaiied with stag-like bounds from
mound to mound down the hill, though
rocks tiled his feet, and bushes tore the
thin shirt from his shoulders.
Breathless, fainting, reeling, he
reached the railway where tlie bridge's
now fiery span ended. Catching up a
piece of burning timber that dropped
from tlie burning trestle, be stumbled
onto tlie rails, waving the flaine-signnl
above ills head, shouting until his yell
died to u bleat of pain, as an oncoming
rumble sounded in ids ear, and the
torch, which he would not drop, burned
liis fingers.
"Hello! I don't know what to make
o' that." grumbled fengineer Morse,
who was pulling the night train from
Burlington, seeing the waving light
upon tlie rails.
But he understood presently when
his slackened engine crawled past a
scorched, half-clad boy. who feebly
called to him that the bridge ahead was
burning.
Rod knew no more after he saw
those gleaming headlights go by gnd
halt short of danger until a conductor's
lantern flashed across his face, and be
found himself the center of a group of
male passengers, among whom were
Mr. Meyers and his companions return
ing victorious from the spelling match.
But the greater victory was Rod's,
for he heard a voice which be knew to
be Curley Wiggins' mutter:
"He said this morning he'd make a
man o' hlsself. But I guess he's a lit
tle man a'ready!"—American Tribune.
Did Not Reclaim the Coin.
Those who "pass the plate" in coun
try churches are not often regaled with
the glitter of gold among the contribu
tions. It is related that about ten years
ago Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford were
traveling through tbe Middle West In
cognito. They happened to be in Bloom
ington, Ind., one Sunday, and pursuant
to their usual custom went to church.
They attended the Christian Church of
Bloomington, then largely in tbe hands
of Amzi Atwater.
When tbe plate was passed for the
collection Mrs. Stanford dropped in a
$10 gold piece. Mr. Atwater was the
deacon in barge of the collection-tak
ing. It was noticed that the ukhers
held a hurried conference with him
when the money was taken forward.
At its conclusion Mr. Atwater said:
"Ladies and gentlemen, there has evi
dently been a mistake. Some one has
dropped a $10 gold piece Into the collec
tion. If he will pass up after the ser
vices we will be glad to allow him to
exchange it for the amount he intended
to give." it Is. of course, needless to
say that Mrs. Stanford did not take ad
vantage of the opportunity.
Some of the recent magazine article«
seem to prove that a little learning la
a dangerous thing.
HER HUSBAND WAS THE
RICHEST MAN IN CONGRESS.
The death of Charles F. Sprague,
who was the richest man in the Honss
of Representatives, leaves a widow
with social aspirations. She lives in tF
palace at Brookline, Mass. She Is a
society rival of Mrs, Jack Gardner, of
Boston.
Mrs. Sprague's latest act In rivalry
of Mrs. Jack Gardner was her most
sensational one. Piqued by Mrs. Gard
<«.i
MRS. CBAS. F. 8PHAOUE.
ner's purchase of an old Italian palace
and its transportation to aud erection in
Boston, Mrs. Sprngue also bought an
Italian palace. It was tbe handsomest
she could find In Venice.
Sbe bought It as it stood, furnishings
and fittings, from cellar flags to roofing
tiles, aud had it transported piece by
piece to this country and rebuilt iu
Brookline.
Every bit of wood, marble, tap «dry,
furniture and rugs of tbe new house
were part of the old Venetian palace,
and as it stands It is a bit of Venice in
America.
Mrs. Sprngue has $20,000.000 in her
own right.
THE LATE BILLY WEST.
Famous Minstrel Who Achieved Pop
ularity and Gained a Fortune.
William H. West, familiarly known
ns Billy West, who passed away in
Chicago recently, had spent nearly all
his life in amusing
others and had
amassed a fortune
thereby. When be
went on the road,
as a lad of 14
leaving his father's
farm near Albany,
N. Y„ In 1807—bis
salary was $3 per
week. That he
worked bard aud
. did not make a
william it. west. ..... , ,
mistake in marking
out liis course Is evidenced by tbe fact
that lie left a fortune reputed to be
between $250,000 and $275,000. Since
he was 16 years old he hnd played in
minstrels and for 26 years George
Primrose was his partner. Barlow,
Wilson and Thatcher were partners at
different periods.
West was a dignified and gentleman
ly performer. He was the originator
of the white-faced minstrel nnd was
conceded to be the greatest of inter
locutors. He was at hig liest dressed
In court costume plying question \ to
the end men. He was an artistic man
ager, and had an eye to the beautiful.
The Sliakespearan first part which he
originated was an innovation In tbe
minstrel business.
West's first wife was Fay Temple
ton, who left him for Howard Os
borne. His widow was formerly
Emma Hanley, a comic opera singer.
He Agreed.
An amusing Incident occurred the
other afternoon in a gentlemen's out
fitting shop In New street, Birming
ham, when a customer came into pur
chase a hat. He tried on several, aud
was evidently hard to please, tho
counter becoming covered with the re
jected. At lust the 8iilesiimu picked
up a brown felt bowler, brushed it
round with his arm, and extended it
admiringly.
"These are being very much worn
this season, sir." he explained.
"Are they?" said the customer,
thoughtfully surveying himself in the
mirror, with the bat on his head. "Do
you think it suits me?"
"Suits you to perfection, sir—If the
fit's right."
"Yes; It fits very well. So you think
I had better have it?"
"I don't think you could do better,
sir."
"No. I don't think I could; so I won't
have a new one."
The salesman had been pushing the
old hat—London Spare Moments.
Precaution Against Accidents.
In fhe great railroad tunnel in Saxony
the company makes sure that there
shall be no collision« by having a staff
which must be In the possession of the
engineer taking his train through the
tunnel. There I« only one staff, so that
only one train con go through or be in
tbe tunnel at the same time. Every en
gineer who arrives at tbe mouth of the
tunnel is stopped, and be Is not allow
ed to go ahead until the staff Is given
to him. If the staff is at the other end
of the tunnel be must wait until it
conies back.
Machine to "Lick." Envelopes.
A machine has just been installed li
the pension office at Washington wbicl
will "lick" and seal 25,000 official on
velopes a day. Previously tbe worl
was done by band.
We wonder what the manufacturers
of some great nerve tonic never tried it
on a man about to be hanged.
When your friends say they wish you
would tell them what you want, call
tbe bluff and tell them.

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