Newspaper Page Text
COLUMBIA til I ITT I.
VOL. 2.—NO. f. POETRY. LINKS To my *««, on his leaning school, to enter upon a Mercantile Business. Child of my soul—my eldest—my first born, .thjL toyish years to me have flown ! How short the space—how like the blushing morn Of transient, early day, just now but known To being and to beauty, quickly then Passed to maturer, soberer hours again. Thy fifteen years of life to me have w been! To thee, perhaps, a long spent life they seem, Grow led with being and just touched by sin ; To me, a fitting vision, passed and gone. Into surprising, endless mystery borne. Thy birth, thy life, thy infant loveliness. When heaven around thee seemed to play and live; AH that thy love and childish tenderness And youthful promise too, could ev er give. All, all my child, combine this hour to prove The deathless mysteries of life and love. And now thy school-days ended ! What a scene Of untried being waits upon tbee , now! May God be with thoo, child, in faith serene, “And nerve thy soul fresh efforts to employ— To venture bow on seas unsailed before, scarce thy little bark bath left the jjt shore. ■fcaroest forth into the wide, wide world— ■Bfibusy mart of wealth, and toil, Bum strife, yearly are to rum * ve this voyage of hf' "/ >i temptation's -.BBeand roll o'er every fearful hour. 0| God, I pray!—lf aught a father’s P ra J erß > *■, A mother’s love, can hence avail in heaven, — If heaven, like earth, for us hath guar dian cares, And angel watchers o’er our paths arc _ giwn,— I pray Thee, Lord, our son to keep and save From all the dangers he goes forth to Suffer not avarice, meanness, lust of * wealth, To taint his honor, or his heart con- I trol; And when, by hold advances or by f stealth. The tempter whispers to his youthful » soul, v4s> Thou, Almighty, fire Lis conscience strong. And ye, 0 aagcls, help the boy along. Thou’lt brave it all, my son, if thou but viil, Rmolvs aisd do. And thou shall see, at last, Ta the far future of thy life, and still eternal scenes, riches more vast whan all earth’s merchants ever Can J» . : “TrnWgPiiands were dollars, anreeks f \ solid gold. jBo then thy way, and trust in God and [ I heaven; Let justice guide thee in a path sub lime ; And let thine infant innocence be given Somewhat to youth, and some to man hood’s prime ; (And thou shall prosper. Fleeter years to come, | Shall waft thee richer, or shall guide thee t Home. Boston Transcript. Wihp i« Hi?— A writer in Pu.t*bm's l M, <?-i“r ft?“ u " ! m - *llO wi« .1 be PrMidentof Sutf. in 1900- ’_ ,q all livelihood running bare foot at this very moment amongst the ~lmcWebrrry hoohee of Oregon?” Go it, iittle one! Keep a sharp look out for hr is it and thorns. COLUMBIA, TUOLUMNE COUNTY, CALIFORNIA, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER U, 1883 MIS C E L I A NY. A TOUCHtfrC -fALE, ♦ • MM-. THE FACTORY BOY. by Harriet mailtineau. In the middle of a dart night, Joel, a hoy of nine years old,' IfcartT his 'name called by a voice which, through his sleep, seemed miles away. Joel had been tired enough when he went to bed, and yet he had not gone to sleep for some time; his heart beat so at the idea of his mother being very ill. He well remembered his father’s death, and his mother’s illness now revived some feel ings which he had almost forgotten.— llisbod was merely some clothes spread on the floor, and covered with a rug; but he could not mind that; and he could have gone to sleep at once but for the fear that had come over him* When lie did sleep, his sleep was sound; so that his mother’s feeble voice calling him seemed like a call from miles away. In a minute Joel was up and wide awake. ‘Light the candle,’ he could just bear the voice say. Ife lighted the candle, and his beat ing heart seemed to stop .when he saw his mother’s face. He seemed hardly to know whether it was his mother or not. ‘Shall I call—?’ ‘(’all nobody, my dear. her j.’ He laid his check to hers. ‘Mother, you are dyir.g,’ he mur mured. ‘\ es, love, I am. calling any one. r i'hese little ones, Joel.’ ‘I will taka tare of them, mother.’ ‘Y p a, my child! How should that be?’ I Wby not?’ said the boy, raising him self and standing at his best height ‘Look at me; mother. I can work. I promise you-— ’ His mother could not lift her hand, but she moved a finger in a Way which chocked him. Truimse uomrag thatWui he too hard afterward, she said. ‘I promise to try, then,’ he said, ‘that little sister shall live at home, and nev er go to the workhouse.’ He spoke cheerfully, though the candle light glit tered in the two streams of tears on his cheeks. ‘We can goon living here; and we shall be so— ’ It would not do. The sense of their coming desolation rushed over him in a way too terrible to be borne. He hid his face beside her, murmuring‘O moth er! mother!’ His mothor found strength to move her hand now. She streaked his head with a trembling touch, which he seem ed to feel as long as he lived. She could not say much mar a, She- told him she had no fear of them. They would be taken care of. She advised him not to wake the little ones, who were sound asleep on the other side of her, and begged him to lie down when she should be gone. This was the last thing she said.— The candle was very low; but before it went out, she was gone. Joel had al ways done what his mother wished; hut he could not obey her in the last thing she had said. He lighted another can dle when the first went out; and sat thinking, till the gray dawn began to show through the window! When he called the they were astonished at his quietncßS. He had taken up the children, and dressed them, and made the room tidy, Rod lighted the fire, before he told any body what had happened. And when he opened the door,-his Jittla aistsc was in his arms. She was two years old, and could walk, of course; but she 19:*d be ing in Joel’s arms. Poor Willyr ms the most confounded. He stood t, ilh his pinafore at his month, staring atthjb bed, and wondering that his mother lay so still. i J If the neighbors were astonthed at Joel that morning, they might-ip more so at some things they saw hut theyjrere not. *>'Cry thinp jeeiued doue so naturally; and the boy evidently considered what he had to do so much a matter of course, that less sonsrtjon was excited then about many smaller" things. After, the funeral "Was over, .loel tied U P *\ L ki 3 T.otner'B clothe*. Hdcarrled ’...c nnndle on one arm, and 1 his sister on the other. He would not live like ed to take money for what he had seen his mother wear; but he changed them away for new and strong cloth Jf for the child. He did not seem to Want any help, lie went to the factor/ the next morning as usual, after washing and re shall the PRESS, The PEOPLE'S RISHT3 maintain; Gnawed by hityence, And nnbribed by GAIN. - « I = dressing the children, and getting a breakfast of bread and milk with them, [here was no fire, and he put every knife and other dangerous things on a high shelf, and gave them some” trifles to play with, and promised to come and play with them at dinner-time, lie did play. He played heartily with | the little ones, and as if. he enjoyed it, every day at* the noon hour. ~ Many a merry laugh the neighbors heard from that room when the three children were together, and the laugh was often Joel’s. How he learned to manage, and es pecially to cook, nobody knew; and he could himself have told little more than that he wanted to see how people did it, and looked accordingly’ at every oppor tunity. Tie certainly fed the children well, and himself too. He knew that every thing depended on his strength being kept up. His sister sat on hi.s knee to ho fed till she could feed herself He was sorry to give it up; h at h e said she must learn to behave. Zo he smooth ed her hair, and washed he- face before dinner, and showed her how to fold her hands while he sa> a grace. He took as much pains to t»* a i n her ( 0 g oo j manners at table as il lie had been a governess, teaching a iittl o lady. Wbile sbremained a ‘baby,’ he slept in rnnldle of the bed, between the ♦uat she might have room, and not ho disturbed; ami when she ceased to be a. baby, he silently made new arrange ments. He denied himself a hat, which he much wanted, in order to buy a con siderable quantity of coarse dark calico, which, with his own hands, he made in to a curtain; and slung up across a part of the room; thus shutting off about a third of it. Here lie contrived to make up a little bed for his sister; and was not satisfied till she had a basin and jug, and a piece of soap of her own. Here no body but* hiniself waste intrude upon her without leave; and, indeed, he al ways made her understand that he came to take care of her. It was not only that Willy was not to see her undressed. A neighbor or two, now and then lifted latch without knocking. One of them one day, heard something from be hind the curtain, which made her call her hdsband silently to listen; and they always afterwards treated Joel as if he were a man, and one whom they looked up to. He was teaching the child her little prayers. The earnest, sweet, de vout. tones of the boy, and the innocent, cheerful imitation of the little one, were beautiful to hear, the listeners said. Though so well taken care of, she was not to be pampered, there would have been no kindness in that. Very early, indeed she was taught in a merry sort of way, to put things in their pla ces, and to wash up the crockery. One reward that Jocl had for his manage ment was, that *4ie was early fit to go to chapel. This was a great point; as he choosing to send Willy regularly, could not go till be could take the little girl with him. She was never known to be restless and Joel was quite proud of her. Willy was not neglected for the little girl’s sake. In those days children went earlier to the factory, and worked longer than they do now, and by the time the sister was five years old, Willy became a factory boy; and his pay put the little girl to school. • When she, at seven went to the factory, too, Joel’s life was alto gethor an easier one. He always had maintained them all, from the day of his mother’s death. The times must have been good—work constant, and wages steady—or he could not have done it.— Now. when all three were earning, he put his sister to a sowing school for two evenings in the week, fine! the Saturday afternoons, and he and Willy amended an evefiing-school as they found they could afford it. He always escorted the little girl wherever she had to go, into * u factory and home' again—to the school door, and home again—and to the Sunday school, yet he was himself remarkably punctual at work and at wor shl P . was a humble, earnest, docile pnpil himself, at the quite unconscious that he was more ad vanced than other boys in the sublime science and practice of duty. He felt that every body was kind, and was una ware that others felt it an honor to be kind to him. X linger on these years, when he was a fine growing la.d, in a state of high con tent. I linger unwilling to proceed.— But the end must come; and it is soon told. He was sixteen, I think, when he was asked to become a teacher in the Sunday-school, while not entirely ceas ing to he a scholar. He tried, and made a very good teacher; he won the hearts of the children while trying to op en their minds. By this he became more widely known tben'/before; One day in the following year a tre mendous clatter and crash was heard in the factory where Jofcl worked. A dead silence succeeded, ahd several cried out that was only an irop bar that had fallen down. This WfisJTjie; bnfc the iron bar had fallen on Jofl's head, and he was taken up dead!^|^^ Such a funeral as hi? is rarely seen.— There is something that strikes on all hearts in the spectacle of a soldier's fun cral—the drum, the march of comrades, and the belt and cap laid on the coffin. But there wrts something .more solemn and mor<j moving than such observances in the funeral of this young soldier, who had so bravely filled his place in the con vict of life. There was the train of comrades here, for the longest street was filled frrnn pnd to end-.*'- For relies there were his brother and sister; and for a solemn dirge the uneontrolable groans of a heart striken multitude. A WELL-BREAD BABY. Some years ago, there broke out in this goodly city, not an entente nor an epidemic, hut a sort of periodical mania for leaving babies on door-steps of weal thy citizens; oftentimes to the great scandal of the heads of families. So common had this unnatural desertion of infants become, that no benevolent citi zen was certain of opening his street door in the morning, and not be saluted by a little cherub in swaddling clothes, with smiling face and little dimpled hands uplifted in mute appeal for succor and adoption. Of course, the poor deserted creature would be immediately trai sferred to the Commissioners of the Algnshousc; but it was an unpleasdfct business, exceedingly so, at the best, and made an immense deal of talk, and injurious conjecture, aqd|perhaps ridicule, benevolent mpn’s expense. Hence, many house holders became quite nervous and unea sy on the subject. * 1 One fine morning, an old gentleman who rarely opened the < oor at an early hour without certaiifm sgivings, from this cause, saw the hdusi maid enter the breakfast room with a I isket about two feet long and a foot wide t covered elab orately with a snow wpite napkin.— “What’s thatr” said lieJsuspiciously.— “Doan know, sir Girl] left it at door. Said ’twas for you, sic” “For we?” (and he turned all colois,) “Take it a way. Clear out; it’s nole of mine. I’ll have nothing to do with jit!” The maid opened her eyes in woider, and was a bout to remove the mysterious basket.— “Stop,” said her master; “call your mis tress.” “She ain’t dressed, I guess;” submlt ted the girl. “Never mind; do as I tell you!”— The gentleman was more testy than usual. Left alone with the basket, he ex pected every moment to hear an infan tine cry. “I shall be the laughing stock of the Square! I won’t go to the club for a month.’ Some will say that I’m the father of it!” Overcoming his repugnance with a great effort, after a few moments, he ap proached the basket, and scrutinized it attentively. “It’s very odd,” he solilo quized, “but after all I may be making an old fool of myself. I’ll feel of it!” Gently, as ever his gouty foot was man ipulated by his affectionate spouse, the wealthy gentleman laid his hand upon the white napkin at the top. “Murder!” he almost cried out; “It’s warm!” and sat down, quite overcome, by the con tending emotions, indignation, chagrin and pity “ Gracious me!” said his wife as she entered, “VVn.ti’s the raster with you, Mr. Smith?” u Matier! T^r? w l eu . “Matter enough! Here’s more oi that | villainous doorstep baby business!” “A baby?” cried Mrs - S. “Not fl/irc?’ And she ran to the basket. “It’s warm enough to be alive?” she replied in in finite discontent. ‘.‘l’ll see, poor thing!” she exclaimed, and removing the snugly fitted napkin, burst into laughter as she revealed to sight A MAMMOTH LOAF OF FAMILY bread. It was fresh from the oven of a city baker, and was intended for a nother Mr. Smith, an editor, who sub sequently gave it a first rate notice. Express Messenger Fanny Fern says it is provoking for a wopian, who has worked all day at mending an old coat of her husband’s to find a love letter fron} another woman in his pocket. We should think it might be. The failure of the potatoe crop, in the counties of Santa Clara, Santa Cruz and Alameda is, according to the Register placed beyond a doubt. The editor o* that paper is informed that there will not be one-half the quantity shipped from Santa Cruz that was raised last year. Several thousand acres in that county,' which were promising last July has. been destroyed by the worms and are worthless, so much so, that they will not pay for digging. The quantity cul tivated in the celebrated potatoe region of Pajaro, is limited to about 1500 acres. In Santa Clara County, the entire crop in the high ground is worthless, and will not pay for the labor already expended upon it. The land which has heretofore been planted in potatoes, save the extreme wet land,£will have hereafter to be planted in grain. The teams of Stockton arc subjects of general remark to all who visit our city. The number employed in hauling goods to the mines is immense. We see teams from 2 mules up to 12 and 14, and wag ons capable of hauling from 3000 to 18,000 lbs These last figures denote the amount of freight hauled into James town from Stockton by. Mr. J. Shrack’s team of 12 mules. Messrs Grove, Fer guson & Co., Kelty & Co., Mr. Kire coffe and numerous others, also turn out teams capable of hauling loads quite as extraordinary. The teamsters are in dustrious and take great pride in fat an imals, hauling heavy loads, and embel lishing their harness and wagons in fine style. — Republican. It has been very generally supposed that the brig Caroline escaped from the harbor without any clearance papers from the Custom House; we understand however that she was regularly cleared, her papers all being satisfactory at the time, the proper parties hesitating not to take the oaths prescribed. But as is known after she was under way and out of the harbor, the oaths were violated and the bulk of her passengers taken on board. When she was cleared the cap tain swore that he was to take but two passengers. We doubt very much un der the circumstances if she will ever make her appearance hereabouts.— Times, The position of the Mexican Dictator is extremely precarious. He is becom ing daily more and more suspicious of all around him. The army of 12,000, which he keeps near him and under anus he cannot depend upon for a day, and the array ho has always considered his greatest stronghold. A fellow was tarred and feathered in Yrcka last week, for forcing his young wife whom he lately married in Oregon, to enter a house of ill-fame, in order to make a living for him. So says the Mountain Herald. The work of improving San Diego river is rapidly progressing, under the energetic direction of Lieut. G. 11. Der by, U. S. Topographical Engineer, and his active assistants. The force at pres ent engaged in constructing the levee and ditching, consists of forty-nine Americans and about one hundred In dians.— Union. A party of fifty-one California emi grants lost, by the Indians, at Esleta, nineteen of their finest horses. In en deavoring to obtain them, encountered two hundred Apaches, and a desperate fight ensued, in which eleven out of thir teen of the Americans lost their lives. The frontier is entirely unprotected, and the Indians are dealing death and des truction everywhere. A man was shot by a snake in Pen sylvail'a * n kis attempt to kill the reptile by placing the butt of his gun on its bo dy, when its wnv’.: n 5 s t 0 fr «e itself, one of its coils around the gi»2 stock, struck the hammer, which was down on the cap at the time, hard enough to discharge the gun, the contents of which entered the man's band. The State Journal says an attempt was made to set fire to Sacramento on Thursday evening, when the wind was blowing a gale. The scoundrel who should be caught in such an act, should never be allowed to have cause to com plain of the laws delay. A row took place between the Chinamen and Indians, at Marysville, last week, says the Herald, and a Chi naman and an Indian were wounded. WHOLE NO. 53 STRAWS. M& “ Downieville came near being des troyed by fire on Tuesday last. JThe body of a negro has been found in the San Joaquin river, near where the Eagle was blown up. jpjgr- An attempt was made to fire tho city of Stocktpp*, op Sunday morning last, but was fortunately discovered in good time. jjgf A new boat to run in the San Francisco and Stockton trade, is nearly completed. Helen Hensley is to be her name. The Republican says that a pig was born in Stockton with but two legs. A beautiful boat called the “Cor nelia,” has been put on the route be tween Stockton and San Francisco. Melons arc piled up in stacks in lone Valley. Some of them weighed sixty pounds. A Model County. —The Grand Ju* ry of Yolo county have been convened for the first time in twelve months.— 'They found one bill for assault and bat tery, and adjourned sine die. Sport. —The Sacramento Union say* that twelve antelope were killed at Knight’s Ranch, on tho Sacramento Uiver, on Friday last, by a gentleman of this city. *v\iw.vn-w The San Joaquin Republican un derstands that the present Indian Res ervations in Mariposa county will be abandoned. The Indians—or such of them as are disposed to place themselves under the protection of the United States Government—dillbe removed to a new station near the Tejon Pass. Here they ill be under a military form of govern ment, will be taught habits of industry, mechanical employment, &c. Lieut. Beale thinks that in a short time these tribes will have the finest ranch in Cali fornia. To show what they can do, when under the proper control and guid ance, we may mention the fact, that they have raised and garnered many thousands of bushels of wheat, potatoes, &c., in Mariposa county this last year. A morning paper which has been at considerable trouble for a year past to give advice to the miners as to what course they ought to pursue in the ar ranging of their local laws, and which advice has been rather cavalierly receiv ed by those benighted personages, op ens upon them, for not making some law agreeable to tbeir adviser, in regard to the tenure of ical estate. As the gentleman miners have conceived the absurd idea that they are capable of managing their own affairs, perhaps our neighbor will have the patience, beforo it gives any more such advice, to wait till the miners of Sonora, Trinity, or Downieville, hold a meeting and advise us in regard to the improvement of the Plaza, or some other subject of equal in terest to them. Singular as it may seem, we have the idea that our friend* in the mining regions arc amply able to take care of their own affairs as regards mining claims, water companies, real estate, agriculture and every thing of the kind, and that when they require the advice of the San Francisco press they will ask it. We have sufficient confidence in them to trust to tbnir own good sense in these matters.— Times and Transcript. Them’s our sentiments, exactly. A friend informs us that at a meeting I.sst week of the Division of the Sons of ■ Temperance of this place, no less thau twelve young men were admitted into the fraternity. The I division here, we are informed is in a highly prosperous condition and weekly making large ac cessions to its number. Success.—Mi ners Adv. In a fight between two men named Donahue and Chapman, at Ringgold, in El Dorado county, on Monday week, Chapman was shot in tho eye. His wife attempted to shoot Donahue, but he jumped behind a door and discharged three shots at her,wounding her slightly.