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The Hartford herald. (Hartford, Ky.) 1875-1926, September 15, 1875, Image 1

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VOL. 1.
From the Padneah Herald.
Soma peopla will growl about fashion,
And prate of its follies, bnt then
It is law; forShakfpea.ro hath said, it
"Wears oat more apparel than men."
"Oat of fashion" the world will ignore you,
And call yoa a dowdy, a tack;
Then a hint to tie wise is sufficient
Pin 'em back, girls pin 'em back.
In Rome one ofcourse would be Roman;
Fools follow the fashion, "they say,"
Bat 'tis only the fools, lovely woman,
Who heed such croakers as they !
Soma iHt-flinjer$ ate too much scandal,
Andof "plump, round limbs" talk too slack,
Bat the tighter, the neater and sweeter.
So pin 'em back, girls pin 'em back.
Some girls, like Susan B.Anthony,
Strong-minded, may stickle for rights,
And dressed oat in strong Bloomer costume
Hare made themselves hideous frights;
Bnt these are not rales they're exceptions,
And ought to be burned at tbo rack;
Who cares if you can't climb a ladder;
Pin 'em back, girls pin 'em hick.
long trails and low necks had their foaton,
Skirts gathered in frills and gored down;
The train-lifter, bustle and sweeper.
Hoops large and small both wore the crown,
Have your own sweet way, pretty Hisses,
Let impertinence stare In a pack;
The world moves at your smiles and your
Bo just as yoa please pin 'em hack.
Old maids may scold at your caprice,
And talk or the good "Long Ago,"
Tbey had as many fancies as yoa hire,
The world's all illusion and show,
Then cut the skirts down tighter, closer,
Who cares for the world's idle click,
Let boys cry anatomy, muscle,
Keep np hearts, girls, bo sure pin 'em
'To-day" is an age of progression.
Who cares for gossip such staff!
No odds if you can't step two iuches;
Sit sideways, 'tis easy enough;
And 'twill show off your form and your figure.
Bat at this yoa all have a knack;
Ilave year own pretty, sweet ways and notions,
Fin 'em back, girls, by Jove, pin 'cm back !
Author oftlie "t'onntor Montr CrlMo,'
TJicTIirer GnanlsDirn," " rncuiy
Yc.r. Artcr,IlrajreIoniic, the
Son or Atho-i,' "Louise la
ValUere," -The Iron
JlaiU," Etc, Etc.
The young man, with his hat still
eloQclicd over his eyes, etill leaning on
the arm of the officer, and still wiping
from time to time his brow with his
handkerchief, was watching in a corner
of the. Buitenhof, in the shade of the
overhanging weather-board of a closed
ehop, the doing of the infuriated mob,
a spectacle which seemed to draw near
its catastrophe.
"Indeed," said he to the officer, "in
deed, I think you were right, Van Dek
en, the order which the deputies have
feigned, is truly the death-warrant of Mas
ter Cornelius. Do you hear these people?
They certainly bear a sad grudge to the
two De Wittes."
"In truth' replied the officer, "I nev
er heard such shouts."
"They seemed to have found out the
cell of the man. Look, look, is not that
the window of the cell where Cornelius
was locked up?"
A man had seized with both hands,
and was shaking the iron bars of the
window, in the room uhich Cornelius
bad left only ten minutes before.
"Halloa, halloa," the man called out,
"he is gone."
"How is that? gone?'' asked those ol
the mob, who had not been able to get
into the prison, crowded as it was with
the masses of intruders.
"Gone, gone,' repeated the man in a
rage, "the bird has flown."
"What does this man say?" asked His
Highness, growing quite pale.
"Ohl Monseigneur, he says a thin
which would be very fortunate if it
should turn out true!"
"Certainly, it would be fortunate if it
were true," said the young man, "unfor
tunately it cannot be true."
"However, look " said the officer.
And indeed, some more faces, furious
and contorted with rage, showed them
selves at the windows, crying,
"Escaped, gone, they have helped them
And the people in the street repeated
with fearful imprecations,.
"Escaped' gone! Let is run after
them, and pursue them!"
"Monseigneur, it seems that Mynheer
Cornelias has really escaped," said the
"Yes, from prison perhaps, but not
from the town; you will see Van Deken,
that the poor fellow will find the gate
closed against him, which he hoped to
find open."
"Has an order been given to dose the
town-gates, ilonsegneur?"
"No, at least I do not think so; who
could have gtven such an order?"
"Indeed, but what makes your High-
neha suppose ?
mere are laianiics, .Monseigneur
replied, in an offhand manner; "and the
greatest men have sometimes fallen vie
time to such fatalities."
At these words t'ic officer ftlt hi Hood
run cold, and some how or other he was
convinced that the prisoner was lost.
At this moment the roar of the multi
tude broke forth like thunder, for it was
now quite certain that Cornelius De Witte
was no longer in the prison.
Cornelius and John, after driving along
the pond, had taken the large street
which leads to the Tol-Hck, giving'di
rections to the coachman to slacken his
pace, in order not to excite any suspi
But when, on having proceeded halt
way down the street, the man felt that
be had left the prison and death behind,
and before him there was life and liber
ty, he neglected every precaution, and set
his horse off at a gallop.
All at once he stopped,
"What is the matter?" asked John,
potting his head out of the coach-win
"Oh! my masters," cried the coach
man, "it is
Terror choked the voice of the honest
'Well, say what you have to say!"
urged the Grand Pensionary.
"The gate is closed, that's what it is."
"How is this? It is not usual to close
the gate by day.''
"Just look!"
John De Witlc leaned out of the win
dow, and indeed saw that the man was
"Never mind, but drive on,'' said John;
I have with me the order for the com
mutation of the punishment, the gate
keeper will let us through."'
The carriage moved along, but it was
evident that the driver was no longer
urging his horses with the same degree
of confidence. .
Moreover, as John De Witle put his
head out of the carriage-window, he was
seen and recognized by a brewer, who,
being behind his companions, was just
shutting his door in all haste to join them
at the Buitenhof. He uttered a cry of
surprise, and ran after two other men be
fore him, whom he overtook about a
hundred yards farther on, and told them
what he had seen. The three men then
stopped, looking after the carriage, being.
however, not yet quite sure as to whom
it contained.
The carriage, in the meanwhile, ar
rived at the Tol-Uek.
"Open!" cried the coachman.
Open!" echoed the gatekeeper, from
the threshold of his lodge; "it's all very
well to say, open, but then what am 1 to
do it with?"
"With the key, to be sure!" said the
"With the key! Oh, yes! but if you
have not got it?"
"How is that? Have not you got the
kev7"' asked the coachman.
"No, I havn't."
"What has become of it?''
"Well, they have taken it from me."
"Some one, I dare say, who had a
mind that no one should leave the town."
"My good man," said the Grand Pen
sionary, putting out his head from the
window, and risking all for gaining all;
"my good man, it is for me, John De
Witte, and for my brother Cornelius.
whom I am taking away into exile.".
"Oh! Mynheer De Witle, I am in
deed very much grieved," said the gate
keeper, rushing towards the carriage;
"but upon my 6acred word, the key has
been taken from me."
"This morning."
"By whom?"
"By a pale and thin young man, of
about twenty-two.''
"And wherefore did you give it up to
'Because he showed me an order,
signed and sealed."
"By whom?"
"By the gentlemen of the Town-hall."
"Well, then," said Cornelius, calmly,
"our doom seems to be fixed."
"Do you know whether the same pre-
cautionhas been taken at the other
"I do not."
"Now, then," said John the coach
man, "God commands man to do all in
his power to preserve his life; go, and
drive to another gate."
And whilst the servant was turning
round the vehicle, the Grand Fensionary
said to the gatekeeper,
"Take our thanks for your good in
tentions; the will must count for the
deed; you had the will to save ua, and,
in the eyes of the Lord, it is as if you had
succeeded in doing so."
"Alas!" said the gatekeeper, "do you
see down there
"Drive at agallop through that group,"
John called out to the coachman, "and
take the street on the left, it is our only
The group which John alluded to had,
for its nucleus, those three men we left
looking after the carriage, and who, in
the meanwhile, had been joined by seven
or eight others.
These nev-comcrs evidently meant
mischief in regard to the carriage.
When they saw the horses galloping
down upon them, they placed themselves
acrcsf the street, brandishing cudgels in
their iinmK nt:J cn";r.g out,
"Stop! stop!"
The coachman, on his side lashed his
horses into increased speed, until the
coach and the men encountered.
The brothers De Witte, inclosed within
the body of the carriage, were not able to
sec anything; but they felt a severe
shock, occasioned by the rearing of the
horses. The whole vehicle for a moment
shook and stopped; but immediately af
ter, passing over something round and
elastic, which seemed to be the body of a
prostrate man, set olf again amidst a vol
ley of the fiercest oaths.
"Alae!" said Cornelius, "I am afraid
we have hurt some one. '
"Gallop! gallop!" called John.
But, notwithstanding tills order, the
coachman suddenly came to a stop.
"Now then, what is the matter again?"
asked John.
"Look there 1" said the coachman.
John looked. The whole mass of the
populace from the Buitenhof appeared at
the extremity of the street along which
the carriage was to proceed, and its
stream moved roaring and rapid, as if
lashed on by a hurricane.
"Stop and get off," said John to the
coachman; "it is useless to go any fur
ther: we are lost!"
"Here they are! here they arc!" five
hundred voices were crying at the same
"Yes, there they are, the traitors, the
murderers, the assassins!" answered th c
men who were running after the carriage,
to the people who were coming to meet
it. The former carried in their arms the
bruised body of one of their companions,
who, trying to seize the reins of the
horses, had been trodJcii down by them.
This was the object over which the
two brothers had felt their carriage pass.
The coachman stopped, but, however
strongly his master urged him, he re
fused to get off and save himself.
In an instant, the carriage was hem
med in between those who followed and
those who met it. It rose above the
mass of moving heads like a floating
island. But in another instant it came
to a dead stop. A blacksmith had, witli
his hammer, struck down one of the
horses, which fell in the traces.
At this moment, the shutter of a win
dow opened, and disclosed the sallow face
anl the dark eyes of the young man, who
with intense interest watched the ecene
which was preparing.
Behind him appeared the head of the
officer, almost as pale as himself.
"Good heavens, Monseigneur, what is
going on here?"' whispered the officer.
"Something very terrible, to a certain
ty," replied the other.
Don't you see, Monseigneur, they arc
dragging the Grand Pensionary from the
carriage, they 6trike him, they tear him
to pieces.
"Indeed, these people must certainly
be prompted by a most violent indigna
tion," said the young man, with the
same impassible tone which he had pre
served all along.
"And here is Cornelius, whom they
likewise drag out of the carriage Cor
nelius, who is already quite broken and
mangled by the torture. Only look,
look !"
"Indeed, it is Cornelius, and no mis
take." The officer uttered a feeble cry, and
turned his head away; The brother of
the Grand Pensionary, before having set
foot on the ground, whilst etill on the
bottom step of the carriage, was 6truck
down with an iron bar which broke his
skull. He rose once more, but immedi
ately fell again.
Some fellows then seized him by the
feet, and dragged him into the crowd, in
to the middle of which one might have
followed his bloody track, and he was
Boon closed in among the savage yells of
malignant exultation.
The young man a thing which would
have been thought impossible grew
even paler than before, and his eyes were
for a moment veiled behind the lids.
The officer saw this sign of compas
sion, and, wishing to avail himself of the
softened tone of his feelings, continued;
"Come, come, Monseigneur, for here
they are also going to murder the Grand
Bnt the young man had already opened
his eyes again.
"To be sure," he said. "These peo
ple are really implacable. It docs no
one good to ofTend them."
'Monseigneur,'' said the officer, "may
not one save this poor man, who has
been your Highness's instructor? If
there be any means name it, and if I
should perish in the attempt,"
William of Orange for he it was
knit his brows in a very forbidding man
ner, restrained the glance of gloomy mal
ice which glistened in the half-closed
eye, and answered,
"Captain Van Deken, I request you to
look after my troop?, that they may be
armed for any emergency."
"But I am to leave your Highness
here, alone, in the presence of all these
"Go, and don't you trouble yourself
about me more than I do about myself,"
the Prince gruffly replied.
The officer started on" with a speed
which was much less owing to his sense
i of mi'itiary obedience, than to his pleas
ure at being relicvcdfrom "the necessity
of witnessing the shocking spectacle of
the murder of the other brother.
He had scarcely left the room, when
John who with an almost superhuman
effort had reached the stone steps of a
house, nearly opposite that where his
former pupil concealed himself began
to stagger under the blows which were
inflicted on him from all sides, calling
"My brother where is my brother?"
One of the ruffians knocked off his hat
with a blow of his clenched fist.
Another showed to him his bloody
hands; for this fellow ha!d ripped open
Cornelius and disembowelled him, and
was now hastening to the-Jpot in order
not to lose the opportunity of serving the
Grand Pensionary in the eame manner,
whilst they were dragging the dead body
of Cornelius to the gibbet.
John uttered a cry of agony and grief,
and put ouc of his hands before his eyes.
"Oh ! you close your eyes, do you?"
said one of the soldiers of the burgher
guard; "well, I shall open them for you.'
And saying this, he stabbed him with
his pike in the face, and the blood spurt
ed forth.
"My brother!" cried John De Witte,
trying to ecc, through the stream of blood
which blinded him, what had become of
Cornelius; "my brother, my brother!"
"Go and run after him!" bellowed an
other murderer, putting his musket to
his temple and pulling the trigger.
But the gun did not go oil.
The fellow then turned his musket
round, and, taking it by the barrel with
both hands, struck John De Witte down
with the butt-tend. John staggered and
fell down at his feet, but raising himself,
with a last effort, he once more called
"My brother!" with a voice so full of
anguish, that the young man opposite
closed the shutter.
There remained little more to sec; a
third murderer fired a pistol with the
muzzle to his face; and this time the
shot took e fleet, blowing out his brains.
John De Witte fell, to rise no more.
On this, every one of the miscreants,
emboldened by his fall, wanted to fire his
gun at him, or stiike him with blows of
the sledge-hammer, or stab him with a
knife or sword; every one wanted to
draw a drop of blood from tho fallen
hero, and tear off a Ehred from his gar
ments. And after having mangled, and torn,
and completely stripped the two brothers,
the mob dragged their naked and bloody
bodies to an extemporised gibbet, where
atneteur executioners hung them up by
the feet.
Then came the most datardly scoun
drels of all, who, not having dared to
strike the living llesh, cut the dead in
pieces, and then wcut about in the town
selling small slices of the bodies of John
and Cornelius at ten sous a piece.
We cannot take upon ourselves to say
whether, through the almost impercepti
ble chink of the shutter, the young man
witnessed the conclusion of this shock
ing scene; but at the very moment when
they were hanging the two martyrs on
the gibbet, he passed through the terrible
mob; which was too much absorbed in
the task, so gratifying to its taste, to take
any notice of him; and thus he reached
unobserved thcTol-IIek, which was still
"Ah ! sir," said the gatekeeper, "'do
you bring me the key?"
"Yes, my man, here it is."
"It is most unfortunate that you did
not bring me that key only otie quarter
ofau hour sooner," said the gatekeeper,
with a sigh.
'!And why that?" asked the other.
"Because I might have opened the gate
to Mynheers De Witte; xvhercas. finding
the gate locked, they were obligated to
retrace their steps."
"Gate! gate!" cried a voice which
seemed to be that of a man in a hurry.
The Priuce, turning round, observed
Captain Van Deken.
"Is that you, Captain?" he said. "You
are not yet out of the Hague? This is
executing my orders very slowly."
"Monseigneur," replied the Captain,
"this U the third gate at which I have
prcseated myself; the two others were
"Well, this good man will open this
one for you: do it, my friend."
The last words were addressed to the
gatekeeper, who stood quite thunder
struck on hearing Captain Van Deken
addressing by the title of Monseigneur
this pale young man, to whom he him
self had spoken in such a familiar way.
As it were, to make up for his fault,
he hastened to open the gate, which
swung creaking on its hinges.
"Will Monteigncur avail himself of
my horse?" asked the Captain.
"I thank you, Captain, I shall use my
own steed, which is waiting for me close
at hand."
And, taking from his pocket a golden
whistle, such as were generally used at
that time for summoning the servants, he
sounded it with a shrill and prolonged
call, on which an equcrrv on horseback
sieedily made his appearance, leading
another horre by the bridle.
William, without tou.-hing the si'.n iji,
vaulted into the saddle of the led horse,
and, setting, his spurs into its flanks,
started off for the Leyden road. Hav
ing reached it, he turned round and
beckoned to the Captain, who was far
behind to ride by his side.
"Do you know," he then said, without
stopping, "that those rascals have killed
John De Witte as well as his brother?"
"Alas I Monseigneur," the Captain
answered sadlv, "I should like it much
better if these two difficulties were still
in'your Highnesses's way of becoming de
facto Stadtholder of Holland."
"Certainly, it would have been better,"
said William, "if what did happen had
not happened. Butitcannot be helped
now, and vrc havo had nothing to do with
it. Let us push on, Captain, that we
may arrive at Alphen before the message
which the State3Gcneral are sure to
send to me to the camp."
E The Captain bowed, allowed the Prince
to ride ahead, and, for the remainder of
the journey, kept at the same respect
ful distance as he had done before his
Highness called him to his side.
"How I should wish," William of
Orange malignantly muttered to him
self, with a dark frown and setting the
spurs to his horse, "to see the figure
which Louis will cut when he is apprised
of the manner in which his dear friends
De Witte have been served 1"
Continued next week.
Correspondence of tho Hartford Herald.
No. 2, Vcrxox Place, Bloomsbi'-I
i:v Square, Londo.v, August 15. J
Thcday following that on which I wrote
you from the steamer Victoria, we reached
Londonderry, at 9 p. m. After lying there
long enough to put off some passengers
and their luggage, we steamed for Scot
We reached the mouth of the Clyde just
at daylight. This river is renowned for
its beautiful scenery, and also for the larg
est and best ship building docks in the
world. The passengers were out bright
and early to gaze upon the beauties of its
banks. Land never looked as pretty to
me before. This was the first I had seen
since I left New York, except the blue hills
of Ireland, in the distance looking like so
many clouds. We steamed up the Clyde
to Greenock, a distance of forty miles he
low Glasgow. Here is located the cus
tom house, and it is here that the officers
come aboard and turn the baggage "Upside
down" in search of tobacco and cigars,
and such articles as arc imported from
our country. We were detained here
about two hours and a half, after which
the Captain announced that he could go
no farther up on account of the low tide.
We were soon transferred to the shore,
put aboard a train, nnd reached Glasgow
at 12:30 a. m. My cousin and I, in com
pany with a Mr. Bevan and lady, of New
York City, (for whom wc formed quite an
attachment on the way), stopped at the
Queen's Hotel, a palatial building, nnd
"run" on an aristocratic plan. It is pat
ronized by the nobility, consequently the
style. I much preferred a little less style
and more to eat After dining, wc got into
a carriage and look a drive through the
city and to West End Park. Glacgow is
a magnificent city, clean and nice, and
substantially built. Tbelmildings are all
of elegant granite not a brick house to be
seen. Tlicy look as though they were
built to last for centuries. The streets arc
paved in the same substantial manner.
Glasgow is a city of some 500,000 eouls,
and seems to be tinder good regulations.
The Scotch horse was something to attract
my attention. The idea occurred to me
that one of them would be a valuable ad
dition to an American menagerie. They
are certainly the largest specimens of the
equine species I have ever seen. You
rarely see more than one hitched to an
ordinary wagon or carriage. West-End
Fark is the pride of Glasgow. It is ex
tensively improved, and the air is loaded
down with the odor of llowers nnd musi
cal with the chattering of birds. While
taking that drive, we saw what we were
told was the highest chimney in the world
(525 feet). It belonged to a factory of
some kind, and actually seemed to tower
among the clouds. Wc also saw the larg
est livery stable in Great Britain, a stone
building, that covered a whole square and
contained one thousand horses.
We left Glasgow at 0 p. in. for London
by rail. In that portion of Scotland from
Glasgow to Edinburg there are large quan
tities of coal and iron ore, and the numer
ous smelting furnaces belching forth such
tremendous blazes of fire, lighting up the
whole country, impresses one unaccustom
ed to Hitch sights strongly with the idea
that the world is on fire.
The distance between Glasgow and
London is 400 miles, and with the com
forts of American Cars the journey would
not be a tedious one. Great Britain is an
old country, bnt, viewed from an Ameri
can standpoint, she is greatly behind the
new country in some respects. One of
them is in the railrotd travel. Their
road beds arc cood and they make good
time (-10 to 50 miles an hour), but their
cars are divided off into little apartments
firs', teeon.l, and third chm. You pay
i for your tijUct acorJ g to the clasj yo.t
go. You are put into one of these litt'e
apartments by what they call the Guard,
and the door closed. The Guard (who
answers for our conductor) says nothing
about yonr tickets. It is his business to
see that you do not get out. At the end
of your journey, if you do not produce
your ticket, you are arrested for defraud
ing the company. There is no arrange
ment for checking baggage, no transfer
companies, or anything of the kind. The
countty from Glasgow to London is mag
nificent; beautiful farms-and in a high
state of cultivation. The farmer? are
just now in the midst of their grain and
hay harvest, the yield is good. The
wheat, especially, looks to be heavy
We arrived at London Thursday mornitig,
August 12th. London is truly a grtat
city, It is with difficulty that I can keep
from getting lost two squares from home
without a guide. Yesterday, through
the kindness of a friend, I was shown a
number ofthe great sights of the
"lakcest citt is the world 1"
To-day wc were granted permission to
go through Westminster Palace, through
the Houses of Lord and Commons.
To attempt a description of these wonld
be useless; suffice it to Bay, that the
grandeur of the scenery surpassed any
thing that had ever been pictured in my
imagination, especially in the House of
Lords, wherein was the Queen's throne.
We went from the Palace to West
minster Abbey, where we were soon sur
rounded by the tombs of the illustrious
dead. Westminster Abbey may not in
aptly be called the Pantheon of the
glory of Great Britain, for it is its monu
ments and remains which render the Ab
bey so precious to Englishmen, and the
whole civilized world. Here lie nearly
all the Kings, Queens and Princes of this
country from Edward the Confessor, to
George II. At the mention of the very
name what a crowd thoughts rush upon
the mind. Here kings and sculptors,
princes and poets, philosophers and war
riors, and the authors of imperishable
strains, silently moulder in the dust; en
during marble embalms their memory.
Here side by side rests the crowned head
and the chancellor, the philanthropist
and the naval hero. Here the rival
statesman arc at peace, and the tongue
of the orator is mute. Here the first
English Bible issued from the press. As
you enter, you take off your hat. All is
quiet; there may be a grtat many visitors,
but they scarcely speak above a whisper.
And during the hour of service, (10 and
3 o'clock), the pealing organ and the
swelling choir reverberating through the
lofty grey-grown aisles, attunes the mind
to solemn thoughts and sobriety of de
meanor. I had a special desiic to see
the tombs of Shakespeare, Milton,
Charles Dickens, and some others, and
finally found them in what was called the
"poets's corner." Shakespeare's was a
full-length statue of the immortal bard,
leaning on a pillar, whereon rested a
scroll inscribed with lines from the
"Tempest." John Milton was a bust on
tablet, beneath a lyre encircled by a ser
pent holding an apple. I was surprised
to see that Charles Dickens had no statue
or bust. II is was simply a granite slab
on the floor, over which hundreds of peo
ple walk every day. On the slab, in
large brass letters, was this inscription,
"Charles Diclcens, born February 14th,
1812, died June 0th, 1870."
The English baye many peculiar char
acteristics about which I have not time
to speak now. Some of them are very
good some not so good. They arc cer
tainly a charitable people. There seems
to be no end to the charitable institutions
of London. They seem to be a religious
people also. Notwithstanding there are
bar-rooms enough in London, if placed
side by side, to reach 75 miles, as yet 1
have not seen a man drunk or heard an
oath on the streets. J. B. W.
Itimnlii? a Jfpiriapcr.
By some unaccountable misapprehen
sion of facts, says the Memphis Ava
lanche, there is a large class of people in
the world who think that it costs little or
nothing lo run a newspaper; and if they
buy a copy from the newsboy, when too
far from the office to come and beg one,
they arc regular patrons and entitled to
unlimited favors. Men call every day at
newspaper offices to get a copy of the
paper for nothing, who would never dream
of begging a pocket handkerchief from a
dry goods store, or a piece of candy from
a confectioner, oven upon the plea of old
acquaintance, having bought something
before. One paper is not much, but a
hundred a day amounts to something in
the course of time. But this is a small
drain compared with the free advertising a
newspaper is expected to do. Some men
who have paid two dollars at an early
period of life for an advertisement worth
four or live dollars, appear to think
they are stockholders in tho establish
incut for eternity. They demand the
publication of all marriage and funeral
notices, obituaries and family episodes.
for the next forty years, gratis Speak
of pay and they grow indignant. "Don't
I patronize your paper?" "Ye-1; lot you
receive the worth of your money for what
you pay.-' But," says the patron, "it
will not cost you anything to put this in,"
which i-tjnst as ridiculous iw lo a-k a
man to grind your axe on hi grindstone,
r.nd graciously tell him it won't cost him
a cent. It lakes money lo run a newspa
per as well as any other business; no
paper will succeed financially that carries
a deadhead system. Any mention of the
people's aKtirs- that they are anxious to
see in print is worth paying for, and when '
printed is generally worth as mnch as any
other investment of the same amount.
The newspaper business is very exact
ing on all connected with it, and the pay
is comparatively small, the proprietors
risk more money for smaller profits, and
the editors an reporters an J printers
work harder and cheaper than the same
number of men in- any profession requir
ing rhe given amccnt of intelligence,
training and drudgery. The life has hi
charms and pleasant associations, scarce
ly know to the outside world; bnt it bas
ils earnest workers and anxieties and
hours of exhaustion, which are also not
known to those who think the business
all fun. The idea that newspaperdbm ia
a charmed circle, where the favored
members live a life of case and free from
care, and go to the circus at night on n.
free ticket, and to the spring in the sum
mer, is an idea which we desire to ex
plode practically and theoretically. Busi
ness is business, and the journal that suc
ceeds is the one that is run on a square
business footing, the same as banking or
building bridges, keeping a hotel or run
ning a livery stable.
A Cheerful SenU OH.
The following is an address of Judge
Underwood, of Home, Ga., to four young
lawyers who had just passed an examina
tion in his court;
"Young gentlemen, I want to say rt
thing or two to you. Yoa have passeil
as good an examination as usual, perhaps
better, but yoa don't know anything.
Like these young fellows just back from
their graduation college-, you think you,
know a great deal. It's- a great mistake.
If you ever get to be any account, you
will be surprised at your present ignor-
ance. Don't be too big for your breeches.
Go around to the justices courts and try
to learn something. Don't be afraid'
let off on a high key. You will no doubt,
speak a great deal of nonsense. You
will have one consolation nobody will
know it. The great mass of mankind
t3ke sound for sense. Never mind about
your case, pitch in you are about as apt
to gain as los. Don't be ashamed at
the wise-looking justice. He don't
know a thing. He's a dead-beat on
knowledge. Stand to your rack, fodder
or no fodder, and you will see daylight
after awhile. The community gjnerally
suppose that you will be rascals. There
is no absolute necessity that you should.
You may be smart but without leing
tricky. Lawyers ought to be gentlemen.
Some of them don't come up to the stand
ard, and arc a disgrace to the fraternity.
They know no more than any other race
generally. They don't know anything
about sandstones, carboniferous periods
and ancient land animals known as fos
sils. Men that make out they know a
great deal on these subjects don't know
much. They are humbugs superb
humbugs. They are ancient land ani
mals themselves, and will ultimately .be
fossils. You are dismissed with the sin
cere hope of the- court that you will not
make asses of yourselves."
A Tra-Vender-! Slltlultc
Toronto Globe.
A good etory is told of a certain tea
pcddlcr, who lives not a hundred miles
from Nnpanee, and who was pushing his
vocation in the back country. Having
called a poor woman and asked her to
purchase a box of tea, she told him that
she was not able to pay for it, whereupon
he proposed to tike the baby that lay in
the cradle in exchange for it: and, she at
once consenting, he took the baby and
left the tea, thinking the woman would
soon follow. When he came to the next
house he told what he had done, and
was informed that the baby did not be
long to the woman, but had only been
left with her the night before. He then
concluded to return the child, but had to
give the woman another box of tea to get
her to take it back. He says he'll not
buv anv more babies.
A Snake Attvcnlnrr.
From tho Franklin (X. C.) Courier.
AVhilc walking through a path from
Perry's Church she saw a large snake
coming towards her; it very naturally
frightened her, and she ran with all her
speed, (she was only IS years of age),
and the snake right after her. Very soon
she came to small creek that crossed
her path, and cousin "Sally Dillard"
like she prepared to cross, but the snake
caught her just as she reached the bank
of the creek, and commenced winding
him'elf around her leg in a manner too
tight for comfort." She seized the reptile
by the throat with one hand and with
the other drew her knife from hcrockel,
which she opened with her teeth, and
cut oh his snakeship's head.
A little three-year old, warned by her
mother not to put her finger into the
chopping tray, lest the knife shouM cut
them off, said: "I will have more when I
get to heaven. Her mother replied: "Ynt
will not need them there." "Yes, iM'
the child." "I shall; else how can I piny
on my harp."

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