New York dispatch. [volume], November 23, 1884, Page 7, Image 7

About New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899

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THE COMING OF AUTUMN.
BY CHARLES J. O'MALLEY.
With spraya of cypress coiled around her Laid,
Wreathing her brows, and at her cold, white leer
A twining clasp of purple bittersweet.
She came down o’er the damp leaves sere ana rea
Came down o’er tearful Nature's voiceless aeaa
And paused far in the dusk-engloomed reweat.
Her wistful eyes brimmed full of tears uns “®y
Paused where the sombre boughs of cypress mo
In the dark fastness of the ghostly valley,
And, while the alders in the twilight hoary,
Murmured and moaned above her musically,
Like a fair planet, shorn of half its glory,
Palled and wan, in the thick-darkening wood.
With chiil winds blowing round her, Autumn stood.
Bare was her bosom, save where knots of *<>]&•
Cinctured with opals, flamed in the mint ligu®
Like tapers flashing thro murky night;
And on her brow, swept o'er with
Like brow of one who moans o er deeds of folly.
She wreathed sere leaves in garlands wan and
With 'nightshades bound her tresses, while, full
streamlet rippled downward
bright; _
jOavlight was dead, and in the dusky arches
Made by the boughs that shimmered overhead
SThe low wind whispered in the rustling larches—
Dank leaves fell down—the squirrel sought his
bed— , ,
s?et there she stood, mournful as dying eves,
Wearing her knots of crisp October leaves.
Mrs. RansofflVExperiineiit
BY MRS. M. L. RAYNE.
Whan Mrs. Ransom adopted a baby from tho
Orphans’ Homo people were not surprised.
They had learned to accept with equanimity
whatever that lady chose to give them, and the
; i)aby was only something in a more tangible
shape than her theories usually assumed.
Mr. Hansom was surprised, though. He had
■ been away on a month's trip among the pinenes
looking alter some lumber interests for his firm,
and arrived home tired and late, but not unex
pected. Mrs. Ransom welcomed him with her
characteristic energy.
“Como right in, David, and shut that door I
There's an awful dealt. H-u-sh; don’t make
•such a noise 1” . _ _
“Wbats a brewing now..?” asked Mr. Ran
som with interest as be sat down in his own big
rocker and prepared to take off his travel
stained boots. .
But the shriek that rent the air, and which
proceeded from his wife's lips, brought him to
bis feet in double quick time. A faint cry
seemed to proceed from the cushion of the
cocker.
“ Tho cat!” exclaimed Mr. Ransom. Why
didn’t you tell ma the cat was there? I nigh
about sat on her.”
“It’s the baby,” said his wife as she took up
a slim package from whence the cry issued. “Da
vid Ransom, Jr. Didn’t I mention to you that I
thought bl adopting one ? This is the child, and
there is good blood in him, too.”
* “A-d-o-p-ted a baby I” ejaculated Mr. Ran
som. “So that’s your last craze, is it ? Lemme
see. In the last ten years you’ve learned to
-pound on the piano, paint on chiny, work on
•kerosene (‘arasene,’ corrected Mrs. Ransom),
hammer brass, make crazy quilts, and now
you’ve adopted a baby When I left you was
Snaking a collection of'little pitchers. Louisa”
(in a tone of alarm), “are you gathering a col
lection of babies ?” <,
“No,” answered his wife solemnly. “I am
)going to try an experiment. I want to see if
one child cannot be brought up so that it will
snot be a torment to everybody. This child is
of respectable parentage—Mohawk Dutch and
-English on one side, and French and Irish on
the other.”
“ Is there a little Infun ?”
“ No, there isn’t,” said his wife crossly. “You
znay laugh all y.ou want to, but blood will tell;
see it it doesn't.”
“ Is it one of your theories that the new baby
Is to sleep in my rocking-chair ?” asked her hus
band.
*• Me is to sleep anywhere,” said Mrs. Ran
som. “ The idea is absurd that a child must be
laid on pillows and rocked in a crib, and the air
kept off as if it were a tender plant. Little
David is to sleep on the floor or the table, or
wherever it is most convenient to put him. He
|s not to bo molly-coddled to death.”
In the middle of the night Mr. Ransom was
•awakened by fearful screams. The infant had
fallen off the"toot of the bed.
“ Wait till I get a light,” he said as he heard
: liis wile groping after the baby.
“ Light me no light,” commanded Mrs. Ran
som, “this child will sleep in the dark as nature
intended.”
“I hope he’ll give me that same privilege,”
said Mr. Ransom in a sleepy voice.
In a lew days Mrs. Ransom was as heartily
sick of her new experiment as she had been of
her old ones, but at that juncture Mr. Ransom
asserted some of the firmness that a crisis al
wavs brought out in his character. His wife
had leg illy adopted the baby without consult
ing him. Now he was determined that she
should continue her experiment, and said so.
She was not unkind in her nature, and pride
rather prompted her to make this particular
baby a coal of fire to her enemies. They should
see what her theory really was worth. ’But she
had dreadful misgivings. The boy grew, ate
land drank like other children, was as bright as
the fondest parents could wish, but he acted
exactly like other little rebels of that age; cried
all night and slept all day; wanted everything
he saw, slapped his mother Ransom, pinched
' his father Ransom, howled and acted like sin
generally. He was exactly like tho little girl of
the nursery song:
When he was good, he was very, very good,
And when he was bad he was horrid.”
Blood will tell,” said Mrs. Ransom whon
driven to the verge ot despair by the pranks of
Ransom, Jr.
But she found much satisfaction in the knowl
edge that she had reduced her theories to ssi
sntitio practice. She had often declared—after
the fashion of mothers who bring up other noo
dle’s children for them—that babies were stuff
bed to death. So she had a system of feeding
fliers at stated intervals, and pointed with pride
•to the fact that David, Jr., did not suffer with
Indigestion. David, Sr., heard and was silent,
and Mrs. Ransom went on wondering what be
came of the superfluous sugar, cream and
cookies that escaped from the pantry.
About this period the mendacity of Mr. Ran
som was something fearful. Whenever there
was a crash of breaking glass he appeared,offer
■ing puss as the culprit. It seemed as if he had
: conspired with the oat to break every available
.thing in the house.
Mrs. Ransom was a believer in phrenology;
she heard that a certain well-known phrenolo
gist was to be in their neighborhood, and she
took her adopted son—now three years old—to
have his head examined.
The phrenologist was tall and cadaverous
looking. He closed his eyes, smiled, and felt of
the boy’s head.
•‘Benevolence, large; self-esteem, full; de
structiveness ’’—the smile faded—“ d-e-s-tr-ue
t-i-v-o-n-o-ss— why, my dear madam, the boy
■Will destroy everything within reach 1 He is—
“ Hold on ! That’s the wrong bump,” called
out Father Ransom. “He got that when he fell
off the roof of the summer kitchen.”
i “Blood will tell,” said Mrs. Ransom triumph
antly as she paid five dollars for a chart of the
.boy’s remarkable head.
Mrs. Ransom had declared that it was all non
i sense for the children to have croup, whooping
cough and measles, and brought the boy up on
homeopathic principles. All the same, he was
dosed with herbs and jalap when she was out of
eight, and skinned through somehow on a mix
ture of pathies that would have killed a less ob
stinate liver.
Meanwhile Mrs. Ransom’s neighbors had tho
'ories of their own about the small boy. They
declared he was an unmitigated nuisance. As
be grew older a species of tailless cats devel
oped, or rather undeveloped, in tho neighbor
hood. When questioned one day by his brevet
Sareirts, the small David Responded:
|“ I dih it with my little hatchet.”
“ Blood will tell,” said Pa Ransom, solemnly.
His temper was colicky. As he was to be
reared as a child of nature, he was not re
proved, and the consequences were alarming.
When lie sulked his mother would excuse him
on pre-natal principles. His blood was mixed,
so when he sulked Mr, Ransom would remark
“ That's the Scotch in him.”
When he kicked and scratched :
“ Ha’s, got his Irish up now.”
Other nationalities served their turn. To the
natural and inherent depravity of early boyhood
he ad led an unknown quantity of trained mo
rality that was hard to bear. One of his mother’s
pet doc nines was that he was to be a child of
nature a inf tell the plain unvarnished truth
When he was five years old he gave a practical
example of his “ ra’sing,” as his father called it.
He was playing some msthetio play of his
mother’s devising, and in his progressive dress
—a sort of nondescript garment, a cross be
tween a pinafore and a blouse—looked like a
little monkey, when a neighbor called. Young
Ransom eyed her sharply as she netted him on
bis curly head.
“ Shay 1” he asked in a confidential tone,
“ whersh your fur ?”
“Fur ?” echoed the surprised woman, “ why,
•what do you mean ?’’
“ Why, mamma called you an old cat, and old
cats have fur dontsh shey ?”
At another time Mrs. Ransom had unexpected
company. In spite of her theories and vagaries,
she w a.a an excellent housekeeper, and on this
occasion was much mortified to be caught with
out pics. What is home without a pie ? She
sent .David, junior oft to the bakery with an or
der for a half dozen pies, which were promptly
delivered, warmed in the oven, frosted with
sugar, and intended to serve as an innocent di
version in place of the genuine home-made arti
cle. When all were seated at table, and part k
ing of the first course, the ideal child began 'in
a loud whisper : *
“ Ma-a-a, I wanter piethe of pie !”
“H-u-s-h, David,” said his mother, promptly
“ If you don’th gimme a pieth of pie I’ll telltli
their bakerth’s pieth.”
Mrs. Ransom was overcome by the situation
She cut a large section of pie, and a ed it to
young David, who said immediately, in a loud
voice:
“Now I won'th tell theth are bakerth’s pies.”
‘ Blood will tell I” said Mr. Ransom, who was
getting full pay for sleepless night with hali
fleaged theories.
Mrs. Ransom had given up one by one her
precious projects concerning that boy First
ha X e . a ke y turued on him; she 1
flidn t believe in locking things up from clul- ’
dren—they must be trusted. When he dressed
himself up like the picture of an Esquimaux and
cut up her seal-skin cloak for the occasion, she
changed her mind. He was not to be whipped
—nobody but a brute would strike a child—until
one day he sat on the ridgepole of the roof, ana
collected a crowd to sec him perform various
antics. Than she threatened to whip him, but
as he didn’t know the value received on such
occasions he was not much impressed. And
the sweet child always told the truth. Dialogues
like the following were in order:
“ Did you eat that bottle of jam, David ?
“ Yeth", ma’am.”
“ You are a dear boy for telling the truth. I
would rather have you eat all my jam than tell
a lie.”
And David finished the jam.
One day the fire engine dashed up to the
house and put out the blazing roof. How did
the fire catch? Mrs. Ransom called David in a
voice he had never heard before.
“ Do you know how the house caught fire?
<{ Yeth, mamma. I did it with a little snatch.”
“ What did you do it for ?”
“ To see the engines up there.”
“ I tell you what, Louisa,” said Pa Ransom,
“ you’re bringing that boy up for tho peniten
tiary.”
“ No, I’m not,” responded Mrs. Ransom, tak
ing off her slipper. “I’ll try the good old
way.”
And then and there she gave him such a
practical application oi the ethics of sole that
made him realize that his reign of terror was
over.
Mr. Ransom secretly applauded.
“It’s all very well to talk about blood, he
said, “ but breeding has lots to do with the
making of good men—and wimmen, too. If
you’re going to make a soldier of a boy, he’s
got to have some other training. Beside a hard
bed to sleep on and rough kind oi diet, he must
be disciplined, give and take hard knocks, and
learn to be s’bordinate. That is as true as
Gospil 1”
Mrs. Ransom’s experiment now threatens to
turn out well.
JANET’S frAGER.
Wouldn’t Marry a Man with
Red Hair.
(From the New Orleans Times-Democrat.)
"Well, I know one thing,” said pretty Bessie
Carlton decidedly ; “ I never shall marry a man
with red hair. May Brown doesn’t know how
she has lowered herself in my esteem by mar
rying such a red-headed fellow as Clem Weston.
I wouldn’t have believed it of her. But the
deed is done ; she really has married him ; here
are her wedding-cards, Janet,” and she’tossed
them across to her friend. “ No, indeed,” she
went on, leaning back in her comfortable lawn
chair, “my mind is made up, mark my words,
Janet. I never shall marry a man with red
hair.” Janet laughed most provokingly.
“Dou’t be too sure,” she said in a warning
tone, “ there’s no telling what you may do before
you die ; as old Miss Gaylord is always saying,
‘ we’re born but we’re not buried.’ ”
Bessie laughed, then asked seriously, “But
why shouldn’t Ibe sure ? I never could marry
a man with red hair, because to begin with, I
never oould fall in love with him. Think how
unromantic it would be. In novels ths heroes
always have ‘ waving auburn curls’or ‘ jet-black
locks.’ I never have come across one endowed
with my pet abhorrence, red hair.
“ I regret to express my feelings, Bessie,”
said Janet coolly; “ bull feel it my duty to tell
you that you are making a goose of yourself,”
and while her friend stared in a mixture of sur
prise and indignation, she continued calmly;
“To begin with, you are not in a novel, so you
can hardly expect young men with ‘auburn
tresses ’ and ‘jet locks ’ flying to the wind, to
be always hanging around doing nothing, as
seems to be the aim of the impossible heroes in
the impossible romances that you refer to, and
to end with, you are only a girl doomed to live
a useless, unromantic life, like all the rest of
us, until some kind creature with black or red
hair, I don’t know which, shall take pity on you
and marry you. So I wouldn’t be so vehement
against the unknown red-haired if I were you.
Do you know,” she cried, starting up, “ I will
wager a box of French bon-bons that you marry
a man with, not golden brown, not auburn, but
real downright rod hair; what will you give me
if I wm ?”
“ This diamond,” answered her friend, lazily
touching tho beautiful jewel at her throat.
“O, no,” remonstrated Janet, “ I won’t take
anything so handsome; you are too generous.”
“ Not at all,” was the reply, “because I am
sure I never shall have to give it up.”
“Eh bien I nous verrons,” was the quick re
tort. "Ah,” changing her tone, “here come
the boys,” as across the lawn toward them
came two handsome young fellows.
“What's tho row,” called one of them as he
came up; “we heard your excited voices as we
rode up the avenue, and with our customary
courage flew to tho rescue. Whoso life is in
danger ?”
It is just this,” explained Janet. “ Bessie de
clares she will never marry a man with red
hair.” Upon this Laurie passed his hand com
placently over his own blonde curls. “ And I
have wagered a box of bon-bons against her
diamond pin that she will. Won’t you take it
down in black and white, Fred ?” turning to her
cousin.
“ Certainly, your majesty.” And after a pro
longed search amid his numerous pockets he
produced a diminutive note-book wherein he
made a most business-like record of the bet and
the stakes put up by both girls.
“ And now we'shall see who wins. lam all
anxiety, although I think with Janet that you
are doomed to lose your bet, Miss Carlton,” he
said, turning to her.
He was a tall handsome young fellow and
Janet’s cousin, while his companion, Laurie
Edwards, was only a friend down on a fort
night’s visit.
Laurie was Miss Carlton’s devoted slave, and
now he cried eagerly:
“ I don’t see why she should lose. lam sure
she has every opportunity to win.”
“ Oh, yes, we all know she has every oppor
tunity,” laughed Fred mischievously,’ causing
Miss Carlton to blush and Laurie to vow venge
ance against him; “ but I doubt whether she
will avail herself of these same opportunities,
oven to save herself from losing.”
“ What a beautiful sunset,” cried Bessie
desperately; “ the country is always beautiful,
but especially so on Summer evenings.”
“ The rays of the departing sun have affected
your cheeks, my dear,” said Janet; “ won’t you
take this seat ? It is more in the shade than
the one you have. This vine will screen you
entirely.”
The answer to this kind offer was a stony
glare, which so amused her that she could not
resist laughing, a proceeding which infinitely
disgusted Laurie and Bessie. Fred restored
the peace of the party bv saying quietly, as if
nothing had happened:
“ By the way, Janet, if you don’t object, I
think I’ll ask Dick Lansdalo down for a few
weeks.”
"Of course you may ask him—any one that
you choose ; why, where are you two going ?”
as Laurie and Bessie were strolling off.
“Just for a walk on the beach,” answered
Bessie over her shoulder. “Won’t you join
us ?”
“Two Is company, four is none,” called
Janet. “ Who is Dick Lansdale anyway?” she
asked, turning to her cousin.
“That’s just tho joke.” he cried eagerly.
“He is the nicest fellow going, but ha has the
reddest hair you ever saw. He is fascinating,
handsome and intelligent—just the man for
Miss Carlton to fall in love with. Now this is
my plan ; I shall insist upon his wearing a wig
over his objectionable hair while visiting here.”
“ But,” interrupted Janet, “ do you think lie
will be willing ?”
“Oh yes, I know Dick,” was the reassuring
answer. “ Then I shall expect him to fall in
love with Miss Bessie, and trust her own stony
heart will be touched : then when they are en
gaged he shall appear with his natural red
hair, the plot shall be disclosed, I shall beg for
giveness, you shall win your bet, and tho cur
tain will go down on the villains you and I,
Laurie the ctisappomted lover, and the happy
pair, Dick Lansdale and Miss Carlton.”
“ That would be splendid,” cried Janet;
“ but suppose she doesn’t fall in love with him
what then ?” ’
“Why, nothing. There will be no harm done,
only a crushed plot. But I am suro she shall
like him.”
“ Poor Laurie,” said Janet, “ I feel sorry for
him.”
“ Well, you needn’t, she doesn’t care a snap
for him. You can see that he bores her awfully,
and he’ll get over it in no time—l have been
along there myself. Come now, let us join them
on the beach. Remember, mum’s the word.”
A few evenings after, as Laurie and the two
girls were standing on the gallery, preparatory
to taking their customary evening ride, the dag
cart came bowling up the avenue, drew up at
the steps and out of it sprang Fred Miles, fol
lowed by a tall, dark-haired, gray-eyed young
man with an intelligent face and distinguished
air. After the usual introductions, Janet, with
her most gracious smile, turned to the new
comer, saying:
“ If you are not too tired, Mr. Lansdale, we
will be happy to have you go ride with us.”
“ I have already ordered his horse, so he will
have to go whether he wants to or not,” inter
rupted Fred, before his friend oould reply.
“ There, Laurie,” as the groom brought
around the horses, “you, Miss Carlton, and
Mr. Lansdale will go together, while we two
jog along behind.”
Laurie frowned a little at this arrangement
but, as it could not be helped, he submitted to
his fate,-though glowering darkly at his friend.
No sooner were the three ahead, out of ear
shot, than Janet bent forward, crying delight
edly
“ He’s very handsome, just as you said, and
his hair is beautiful. I never would have
guessed it was false if I had not known all about
it.”
“Y’es,” said Fred in a satisfied tone of voice,
I am sure our plot will succeed; I think she
fancies him already. See how attentively she
listens when he speaks. Poor old Laurie: lam
almost sorry for him. I don’t think he will stay
much longer after this; he’ll learn his fate and
depart.”
Nor was Fred mistaken. After two weeks of
protracted misery Laurie could stand it no
longer, so he declared his love, was told calmly
by the object of his adoration that she “ would
always be his friend, but nothing more,” and
the following day departed, at war with aii man,
or rather all woman kind.
NEW YORK DISPATCH, -NOVEMBER 23, 1884.
With the conspirators all went well. Bessie,
unconscious of Janet’s treachery, expressed to
her without any scruples, her admiration for
Mr. Landsdale’s many good qualities.
“He is so intelligent,” she said one evening
after a long discussion on the subject of “Wom
an's Rights.”
“ Yos, dear, I agree with you,” was the sym
pathetic reply, encouraging Bessie to go on.
“ And so handsome. Don’t you think he is
handsome, Janet ?”
“Very,” said Janet, enthusiastically; then,
glancing up, with a mischievous look in her
dark eyes, which Bessie remembered only too
well afterward, “ don’t you think his hair is
beautiful?’’
“Lovely,” cried har friend. “Ah, Janet, I
think I shall —”
She stopped short, overcome with confusion,,
for she was going to say, “ win my bet.”
Janet understood, pretended not to notice,
finished the sentence off in her own mind and
told her fellow-conspirator that night that she
thought things were turning out very well.
At length the crisis came. They had been
rowing on the lake all the evening, Bessie and
Dick in the front boat, Janet and Fred in the
one behind. It was quite warm rowing in spite
of the pleasant breeze hovering about, and Dick
had dropped his oars and stopped for a while
to rest. Strange to say, silence had fallen upon
him and his companion. He broke it by saying,
abruptly:
“ I am going away to-morrow. Aren’t you
sorry for me, leaving all this beauty and pleas
ure for a dusty desk in a busy office ?”
She had been leaning over the side of tho
boat, letting the water run through her fingers,
but now she started up, glancing at him with a
hurt, pained look in her.big blue eyes.
“ You are not really going so soon ?” she said
slowly, as if she couldn’t believe it.
“ Yos, really,” he answered, picking up the
oars and beginning to row with unwonted zeal.
“ Are you sorry ?”
“ Yes.”
“ Then,” he said, quickly, “ I won’t go right
yet. I will wait awhile, then take you back
with me. I am not a rich man,” he went on,
hurriedly, “ but I have enough to make my wife
happy. ’Will you come, Bessie ?”
He dropped the oars, and held out his hands
for answer. She put her own dimpled white
ones in -his big brown ones.
Just then the boat ran iijto the wharf, bring
ing them back to their senses.
The walk home was very quiet and rather
embarrassing. Bessie wondered whether it was
exactly right to accept a lover without so much
as asking her father’s leave. To be suro, his
indulgence and weakness to her were pro
verbial. Still she thought she ought to have
gained his permission first. She expressed her
tears to Mr. Lansdale, who set her mind at rest
by producing a letter from her kindest of
parents, giving him permission to try his for
tune, winding up with, “ She’s a dear girl,
Landsdale, and, as I like you, I hope you will
succeed.”
By this time they had reached the porch.
With a hasty “good-by” she sprang up the steps
and rushed away to her own room, where Janet,
on her return, found her, vainly trying to cool
her tell-tale cheeks.
“ Won’t you come out on the lawn for a game
of croquet?” she said, pretending not to notice.
“No, thank you; I have a raging headache.
You go down like a dear girl. I will come down
to-night. I may feel better then.”
“ Perhaps you may; it will be dark,” with
which farewell shot she departed to inform
Fred she thought “ the blow was about to fall.”
With the night and the moonlight came Bes
sie out on the broad front gallery, blissfully un
conscious that Fred and Janet were ensconced
behind the blinds, waiting, as Fred expressed
it, “to see the fun.” She looked around, sur
prised to see no one, and had half determined
to go back, when some one stepped out from
the shadow of the pillars and came toward her.
“ Is that you Dick ?” she cried, darting for
ward; but no—she drew back with a hasty “ I
beg your pardon,” for tho moonlight shone full
down on as red a crop of curls as ever were
owned by a man. “Excuse me,” she went on,
“ I took you for Mr. Lansdale.”
“And so I am,” answered a familiar voice;
“ surely, Bessie, an absence of two hours can’t
have made you forget my face ?”
‘•I have forgotten you, Dick,” she cried pit
eously, “ but what,” she hesitated—then des
perately, “ what’s the matter with yonr hair ?”
“ Now, don’t bo angry with me, darling, and I
will tell you all about it,” he said persuasively.
You know you said you would never marry a
man afflicted with red hair, so I adopted this
ruse to make you love me. ’Tis true I began it
all as a joke, but soon I was terribly in earnest.”
And then he told her the history of the plot.
When it was finished the blinds flow open, and
out rushed the conspirators.”
“ Pity and forgive, most beautiful lady, “ the
humblest of your servants,” cried Fred, falling
on one knee, while Janet overwhelmed her
friend with kisses, crying at the same time,
“ Oh, I have won, I have won !”
As for Bessie she forgave them both; then,
with tenderest smile, said, laying her hand on
her lover’s, “ 1 think I would have loved you
anyway, Dick, in spite of your real red hair.’
husbands.
Advice of a Wife Who Has had Ex
perience—How Men Should be Treat
ed so as to Keep Them in Domestic
Line.
{From the San Francisco News-Letter.)
“ What are you going to write about this
week ?” said my most particular lady friend,
and I have only very few of that order. “ The
Management of Husbands,” I replied :
“ Well, that’s done in very few words,” she
said laughing; “give him the latch key, kiss
him good night and tell him to come in when
ho likes, as you are going to bed, and that man
will be in leading strings forthwith.”
I agree with my friend that hers is a splendid
recipe ; still I (have an idea that I can give one
quite as good and one having more nobility of
purpose. There is nothing living so easily
managed as the average man but thou the wiie
must understand diplomacy and be a tactician
to the tips of her fingers. What violence or
tears can never accomplish tact will. I have
always thought there is something radically
wrong in the marriage tie, but what it is be
comes a difficult matter to define when search
ing into bottom facts. Men, as a rule, marry
women for love, yet we see every day these one
time happy doves drifting apart and acting as
though separation would be the happiest end
for both. To marry for love simply is absurd.
Unless there is a large amount of respect on
either side the flame of love soon dies out,
leaving a barren manor for the dwellers there
on. I really think those marriages are happiest
where there is less flame and passion and more
quiet respect in the first place, since there is
always a certainty of love following in the after
time, for we must respect first what we finally
love.
However, supposing you have a husband
whom you wish to twine around your little
finger, you must first love him “ with all your
heart, with all your soul,” etc., and the love
you feel will make it possible to put up with
all thess little discrepancies which crop out in
man’s nature when you come to live with him ;
for the best of men become monotonous after
awhile. In the first place should your husband
boa man in business, who comes home tired to
death, cross and worn out, do not at once enter
tain him with the troubles you have gone
through during the day. Do not rehearse any
of the shortcomings of the servants or the diso
bedience of the children. Meet him with a
smile, kiss him, take his hat and overcoat from
him and let him severely alone until he has
toned down his irritability with a good dinner ;
after which he will be in a position to listen to
anything you may have to say; but I always
found it an excellent plan to hide disagreeables
entirely from a husband’s notice. Men don’t
want to have a repetition of annoyances at
home when they have so many in their daily
path outside, and, believe me, the effect of keep
ing household squabbles out of your husband’s
knowledge wonderfully enhances your value as
a wife. I have seen so many arrant fools fly
at their husbands the moment they entered the
house and there and then give a detailed ac
count ol the troubles of the whole day, even tak
ing to tears as an argument on their side—and
oh! how men hate tears; how they detest
household details—and, being naturally selfish,
in fact hate anything that puts them out at
home, and they are right. The bread-winner
ought to be relieved from domestic jars.
Of all things, when your husband comes
home, see that his dinner is well cooked.
Don’t make a row because the meat is under
done or burnt to a stick. Bather go into the
kitchen yourself and see that everythieg is
comme ilfaut. You don’t know how a man ap
preciates a loving welcome, and a good dinner
after the toil of the day. Put yourself in his
place, each woman who has to toil for a father
less nook. You don’t like to come home to a
cloudy atmosphere and an ill-cooked meal.
You think you are at least entitled to serene
comfort at home, and if you don’t get it you re
bel. Why not men also ? Nothing on earth
fetches a man like a good dinner and a well
dressed wife presiding. The husband who can
look forward to such a state of things every day
of his life will never tire of home, and the wife
who studies his comfort will have little diffi
culty in managing him according to her will.
Men are gregarious animals, and will wander
in spite of all allurements, but they are selfish
enough to remain where they are best treated,
and by taking a little trouble for a year or two
of married life, the years ‘that follow will, as a
rule, find the husband always glad to go back
to the pretty home where smiles await him and
the dinner I spoke of.
There are so many women who object to be
ing “ bossed,” as they call it. My dear ladies,
you can always be boss it you take tho trouble.
By giving in you get your own way as you nev
er would by fighting for it. And, after all, it is
better to feel you respect your husband so
much that to give in to him is not a difficulty.
Of course I am now speaking of the right kind
of man. There are some men such perfect
brutes that no kindness has any effect upon
them. When you are unfortunate enough to
catch such a one, divorce him at once and take
care how you choose the next. Nine men out of
ten are manageable, if you go the right way
about it, and one point is to act after marriage,
exactly as you did before. Argument and con
tradiction are vital enemies to married peace.
Should you wish for anything particularly don’t
insist upon it after refusal. Of course you must
have it. but bide your time. Some women are
persistent and ask: “ Why may I not? Why
won’t you do as I ask you ?” and irritate the
man. Bather bide your time, make an extra
good dinner of his favorite dishes, put a bow oa
of the color he likes, make home and yourself
sweeter than ever. You’ll get it sure, even if
you have to wait. Also, when you want him to
do any particular thing which you know will be
for his good, for Heaven’s sake don’t say “ do
it.” Rather drop a hint that you think so and
so would be a good thing to do. Get him inter
ested, and then let the subject drop. I venture
to say that in a short time that man will do pre
cisely as you wished; he wilt never permit you
to think he has traded the least bit on your com
mon sense. Now, some women under such cir
cumstances would crow over the husband with
“I told you so, and now come to my way of
thinking.” Absurd, ladies, absurd; never let a
man know you rulp him in all things, it you
can.
I believe that it is perfectly possible to keep
your husband so perpetually in love with you
that he rather likes being ruled than not.
Never ask for a new dress till after dinner, and
never press your husband to buy wbat he can’t
afford. How many men are brought to ruin
through the extravagance of a silly, exacting
wife ! The reason I say postpone requests till
after feeding time is because man is so partial
to good food that if it is good, and he has
enough of it, his temper will be so heavenly
afterward that in very gratitude he will be pre
pared to do anything in the world for you.
Never be jealous without cause. To bo jealous
of the young lady whom your husband sees
home, inwardly wishing her at the devil and
himself in bed, is simply putting thoughts into
his head which would never have entered other
wise. At the same time remember the prayer,
“Lead us not into temptation,” and do not, on
any account, trust your husband with any one
who has not a great respect for herself. I may
say trust no woman, but trust your husband
till you find him out. If any young woman goes
for him, take the three-legged stool to her, and
make yourself so doubly agreeable to the man
that he will never droam of looking at another.
O, what an easy thing it is to manage the man
you love—and really they all want managing.
When I hear men say: “ I have the sweetest
little wife in the world, but she is not very af
fectionate,” or “ she don’t caro to go out with
me,” etc., then I see there is a screw loose
somewhere, and he goes flirting around while
she stays passively at home (for the most part
miserable), aud not knowing how to remedy the
evil. But if wives would go out with their
worse halves, and take their stand in this way,
there would be fewer heartaches and less use
for divorce laws. I should like to see my hus
band (If I had one), go out every day driving a
splendid team alone, while I eat at home. I
should just like to see him try it. I would
never, in the first place, let him get into the bad
habit of leaving me out of his pleasures. I
would make myself so agreeable that he would
always make me his fast companion, and be
lieve me, ladies, if you would be companionable
to your spouses, feed them well, dress for them,
make yourself indispensable to their comfort,
you could manage them as easily as a baby, and
withal withold not a portion of that soft flattery
which is so dear to every man’s heart. Man
thinks himself strong, but O how weak he is in
the hands of a wife possessing tact. Hoping
my recipe will beat that of giving the man the
latch-key and going lonely to bed, I conclude.
VISSCBEK TO BILL NYE.
HE REPLIES TO A LATE REMON
STRANCE.
Denver, Nov. 9, 1884.
My Deak Nve :—ln your late letter to me you
reflected somewhat upon my candidacy for the
•Legislature, and now I reflect upon it arid some
what sadly. It has given me an evidence that
popularity is not always popular. Still, I
would have been elected but for the fact that
people didn’t vote for me early and often
enough. At the same time if all bad voted for
me who said they would, I should have had a
majority bigger than the total,vote of the county,
tor many—very many—said they intended to
give ms a ballot who were not possessed of that
desirable commodity. Perhaps they meant that
they will vote me wfien they arc old enough, or
have other disabilities removed. And again, if
I had received all the votes which “ workers”
have since told me they “influenced” for me, I
would have been elected President. lam glad
that some lying has been done in this matter,
for I didn’t want to be elected President.
I was really anxious that Mr. Cleveland
should be elected to that responsible position,
and I honestly believe that either ho or Mr.
Blaine would make a better President than ray
self, as they have more time to give to the du
ties of the place, and yet I have more time than
anything else that I can remember at this writ
ing, but I expect to have a use for it. Two of
my watches are already “in soak,” and the
other two are running—that way. I don’t think
it does a watch any good to soak it, either, as it
is liable to rust the works, but when a watch, in
that condition, has no redeemer living the dif
ference is unimportant.
I am told that I will be elected next time I
run. This is probably true, as I shall not run
somo more. Those who didn’t vote for me this
time have forever debarred themselves of that
pleasure. This is sad but inexorable, what
ever that is, and as immutable as the laws of
the Meades and Perkinses. I don’t want to be
voted for again by a jug-ful—or a minority.
There are so many other people who have prior
claims, and I wouldn’t jump any man's claim.
I am not a good jumper anyhow. The main rea
son for this is that I ’light too quick.
My friends say that this defeat is good for me,
as it will keep me out of temptation’s way, Still
I like to be tempted sometimes. If there is
anything in being tempted I want to see what it
is. That is a sort of inquisitiveness which is
hereditary—from Adam, I think—otherwise tho
old gentleman wouldn’t have bit the apple, and
got that three-cornered piece stuck in his throat
where everybody can see the bulge of it to this
day.
But there were things in the campaign for
which I have reason to be profundly grateful,
and some things were not in it which make me
glad exceedingly. In the first place, my ene
mies had a chance to disgorge and relieve them
selves by means of the ballot-box, and now I
hope they will feel bettor and be more pleasant
to their other neighbors—and I have plenty of
enemies, but regard them as a compliment. I
am told that the Bible says a man who has no
enemies is a fool—mind, this is only hearsay
evidence, and I shall not insist upon having it
go to the jury. But of one thing I am pretty
certain ; in a general way, a man who has no
enemies is not likely to deserve any friends.
However, I can lick any enemy I have. Here is
where old Adam crops out again, just at a time,
too, when I was trying to be good-natured and
magnanimous.
Of the things which were not in the campaign
to be happy about, one was that my remote and
adjacent ancestry escaped being’ dug up and
held up for the fishing-pole finger of scorn to be
pointed at, and I wasn’t accused of anything
that I am violently ashamed of, which was
proven on me. This was probably because
there were so many people running that I was
sorter lost in the crowd. Besides, there was a
natural disposition on the part of the “ old
boys ” to overlook my faults—the newspaper
fellows hero are unusually tall.
I fought the fight like a'square Democrat, got
beaten in away that most Democrats, in this
region, are inured to, and shall go to work—if
I can find any- just the same as if I had never
stepped aside from “ the path of rectitude.”
I would write you some more, but the table
needs a chip under one leg and there are no
chips in the neighborhood. Yours ior reform,
Winn L. Vissches.
wfOIEJEFORMED.
A REALISTIC DRAMA OE RUM.
(From the Arkansaw Traveler.)
Such incidents have been .the turning point in
the fortunes of more than one family.
“ You must excuse me, gentlemen, for I can
not drink anything,” said a man who was known
to the entire town as a drunkard.
“ Thateis the first time you ever refused a
drink,” said an acquaintance. “ The other day
you were hustling around after a cocktail, and,
intact, you even asked me to set ’em up.”
“That’s very true; but I am a very different
man now.”
“ Preachers had a hold of you ?”
“ No, sir; no one has said anything to ms.”
“Well, what has caused the change ?”
“I’ll tell you. After leaving you the other
day I kept on hustling after a cocktail, as you
term it, until I met a party of friends. When I
le:t them I was about half drunk. To a man of
my temperament a half drunk is a miserable
condition, for the desire for more is so strong
that he forgets his self-respect in his efforts to
get more drink. I remembered that there was
a half pint of whisky at home which had been
purchased for medicinal purposes.
“ Just before reaching the gate I heard voices
in the garden, and looking over the fence I saw
my little son and daughter playing.”
“ ‘ Now you be ma,’said the boy, ‘ and I’ll be
pa. Now, you sit here, and I’ll come in drunk.
Wait, now, till I fill my bottle.’
“ He took a bottle, ran away and filled it with
water. Pretty soon he returned, and, entering
the play-house,gnodded idiotically at the girl
and sat down without saying anything. The
girl looked from her work and said:
“ ‘James, why will you do this way?'
“ ‘ Whizzer way ?' he replied.
“ ‘ Gettin’ drunk.’
“ ‘ Who’s drunk ?’
“‘You are; an’ you promised me when the
baby died that you wouldn’t drink any more.
The’children are almost ragged, an’ we’havent
any thing to oat, hardly, but you still throw
your money away. Dou’t you know you are
breaking my heart ?’
“I hurried away. The acting was too life
like. I couldn’t think of nothing during the
day but those little children playing in the
garden.” •
A MARVELOUSJTREAM.
Strange Bird-Catching Proclivities of
the River Diamante.
(From “ Across the Pampas and Andes.")
At a distance of thirty miles south of the river
Diamante, our route passed through a natural
object of considerable interest—a stream, or I
rather rill, of yellowish-white fluid, hks petro- j
leum, issuing from the mountain side at con
siderable bight and trickling down the slope till
lost in the porous soil of the valley below. The
source from which it flowed was at the junction
where a hard metamorphic rook, interspersed
with small crystals of granite, overlay a stratum
of volcanic tuff. It was formed like the crater
of & volpaftQ ana f’uU oi bla&iUtumiAQua
hot and sticky, which could be stirred up to the
depth of about eighteen inches.
Floundering in it was a polecat or skunk
(Mephetis varians), having been enticed to its
fate by the desire of securing a bird caught in
the natural bird-lime, till a bullet from the re
volver of one of the party terminated tho
skunk’s struggles to extricate itself from the
warm and adhesive bath in which it was hope
lessly held captive. The overflow from this
fountain was, as described, like a stream of pe
troleum two or three feet wide trickling over a
bed of pitch or some such substance, which ex
tended to a much greater width along the edge
of the running stream at its contact with it.
This material was of a very sticky nature, be
coming gradually harder as it spread further
out, assuming the appearance of asphalt when
it became mingled with the loose sand of the
adjoining soil.
While engaged in examining tho natural curi
osity, we came upon two small birds, caught in
the sticky substance at the edge of the stream.
They were still alive, but upon releasing them,
both the feathers and the skin came off where
they had come in contact with the bituminous
matter, so that we had to kill them to put an
end to their sufferings. No doubt they had
been taken in by the appearance of the water
which the stream presented, and had alighted
to drink, when they discovered their mistake
too late. Their fate suggested the idea that in
a district so devoid of water, others of the feath
ery tribe must constantly become victims to the
same delusion in a similar manner, and upon a
close inspection of the margin of the stream, the
correctness of tliis inference was established by
the discovery of numerous skeletons imbedded
in it; nor were those of smaller quadrupeds
unrepresented, among which we recognized the
remains of a fox.
It is a. Well-known Fact.—ln the Di
amond Dyes more coloring is given than in any
known dyes, and they give faster and more bril
liant colors. 10c. at all druggists. They are a
great success. Wells, Richardson & Co., Bur
lington, Yt.
The Austin (Texas; Dispatch relates this
incident to show
THE VALUE OF CONFEDERATE MONEY.
In the last few weeks of the war a Confederate,
serving under Lee, wrote home to his father that he
was almost barefooted, and completely discouraged.
As soon as the old man received the letter he
mounted his mule and set off at a gallop, but was
soon halted by an acquaintance, who called out:
“ Helio 1 Has there been another fight ?”
“ Not as I’ve heard of; but I’ve got a letter from
Cyrus.”
“ What does Cyrus say ?”
“ He’s out o’ butes and clean discouraged.”
“ And where ye going ?”
“ Down to Abner Smith’s to borry $700,000 to
send to Cyrus to get a cheap pair of shoes, and
we’re going to write him a long, long latter and
send him a box o’ pills, and tell him to hang on to
the last; for, if Cyrus gets lowspirited and begins to
let go, the internal Yanks will be riding over us
afore we kin back a mule outer the barn.”
“ That’s so—that’s so I” nodded the other. “ I
kin let you have tho money myself, as well as not.
I was saving up to buy three plugs o’ tobaeker aud
a box o’ matches all to once, but the army musn't
go barefut when it only takes $700,000 to SBOO,OOO to
buy a purty good pair o’ shoes.”
The old deacon here told of made a big mis
take—perhaps intentional—when
HE PURCHASED A OIRCUS PONY.
Deacon Bodkin’s daughters, Samantha and
Martha, have for a long time watched with longing
eyes the young ladies who frequently pass and re
pass, seated in the beautiful aud fashionable dog
carts.
“They are just too lovely for anything,” said
Samantha. “We must tease pa to buy us a pony
and a cart.”
“ Indeed we must,” assented Martha.
“ What on airth do you gals want of one eruthem
stuck-up sorter things?”’ inquired the deacon.
The pesky thiug’ll run away with ye, likely’s
not.”
“Oh I no, pa, we can drive him. Now, please do
say yes,” cried both maidens in unison, till im
portunity won.
“ Wall, wall,” said the deacon, “ef you two gals
will jest stop talking long enough for me to take a
nap I’ll think about it.”
A few days thereafter a beautiful little white pony
made its appearance in the stable.
“ Now, gals,” said the deacon, “ I’ve got the boss,
but you’ll have to wait a day or two for the cart.
Don’t go to bein’ oneasy now. He'll keep, I’ll
warrant ye.”
The deacon had scarcely left the house before the
two young women led the pony out into the back
yard and were admiring his beauty.
I do really believe I could ride him,” said Sa
mantha. “ I mean to try it, anyway.”
“You haven’t any saddle, or habit, either. Sup
pose somebody should see you,” warned Martha.
“ Who is there to see but you ?” asked Samantha,
as she led the pony up to and, grasp
ing the mane, mounted “ man-fashion.”
The pony sprang forward and dashed around the
yard as in a ring, at the top of his speed. Samantha
screamed and clasped her arms about the neck of
the animal, and used all her powers of persuasion
to induce him to cease his performance. But all to
no purpose. Round and round he went, till sud
denly lie turned with a whirl and plunged toward
the gate. Shrieks of horror burst froEl the two
girls as the gate yielded and the pony, with Saman
tha, now in a a!ale of marvelous dishabille, clinging
to his back, rushed out and tore down the street at
the top of his speed. Shriek alter shriek rent tho
air, and the deacon, who was quietly wending his
way to h'Si Office, glancing about, saw the flying
steed and its rider.
“ Mercy’s sake,” said he. “ I’d or ter told the gals
I bought that pony from the circus man.”
When Samantha and the pony burst into the cir
cus-tent and wade a circuit of the ring the effect
was certainly thrilling and full worth the price of
admission.— Boston Globe.
There is somewhat of a difference between
our laws and
THE LAW OF ENTAIL.
“Father, please tell me what entails means, and
if we have such a law in the United States?”
Father —“ Under the law of entail, my boy, the
landed property of the father is handed down to the
eldest son, successively, generation after genera
tion. We have no such provision in the United
States. Here the money generally goes to the law
yers who settle the father’s estate. You see the
difference ?”
Here is one of the stories still told by the
men who marched with Sherman to the Bea.
Even campaigning
HAD ITS HUMOROUS SIDE.
During Sherman's famous march to the sea tho
boys in blue sometimes resorted to strategic mea
sures to fill tho mess-pot. Ona day a burly soldier
attached a strong linen thread to his bayonet. At
the other eud was a small fish-hook seductively
baited. Passing an Irishwoman’s cabin, he drqpped
his hook among a flock of geese and caught a big
gander. As he started off on the double-quick, the
woman noticed her pet gander rapidly following the
retreating soldier, aud not suspecting the cause,
came promptly to the rescue with, “Arrah, now,
me darlint, don't run. Shure, the gawnder won’t
hurt yez, me honey 1”
“ I know ho will. The darned thing means busi
ness!” replied the defender of the flag, as ho disap
peared over a hill with tho squawking gander in hot
pursuit.
The car driver got rather tho hotter of the
young man in
HIS BLUNT ANSWER.
“ Is that brake hard to handle ?” asked a young
man on the front platform of a car. of the driver.
“No.” responded that person.
“ Is that whistle hard to blow ?” again interrupt
ed the youth.
“ No,” gruffly responded the driver.
“What is the hardest thing to do on a street
car ?”
“Answering fool questions,” replied the driver.
The ways of Adam and Eve were different in
many things from those ot their present de
scendants. This screed illustrates
SOME OF THE DIFFERENCES.
EVE NEVEB.
Eve never tried to force a number four foot into a
number two shoe.
Eve never wore monogram hosiery suspenders.
Eve never squeezed thirty inches of waist into
eighteen inches of cotton and whalebone.
Eve never wore a S2O bonnet smaller than a S2O
bill.
Eve never dragged a trailing silk dress over the
flower-beds of Eden.
ADAM NEVER.
Adam never spoiled his uniform and temper by
idiotically carrying a torch in a fool procession.
Adam never wore a paper collar two sizes too
small small for him, or busted his diamond stud in
to splinters when sneezing.
Adam never ran for office or wrote a letter to the
paper explaining how it was that he oould not boa
candidate for a place where the pay was much
smaller than the honor.
Adam never lied about his lodge and said he had
been there nights, when his wife complained of him
trying to go to bed in his boots.
Adam never had to sneak up back streets for fear
of his tailor tackling him tor that little bill as he
passed the store.
Adam never Med his liver out in trying to get free
passes to front seats in the theatre when there was
a ballet dance to be performed.
Adam never tried to palm off his plugged nickels |
and load quarters in church when they were taking
up collections for the heathen.
In short, Adam never did a lot of things which
are quite common now, and when somebody made
him a present of a forty-seven-pound bull-dog, he
scornfully rejected the gift unless the donor would
guarantee to pay the dog-tax for three years ahead
and foot the doctor's bill if the animal happened to
chew any book-agent who might recklessly get
within its reach.
Our Western men are not generally given to
punning, but here is
A PUN THAT WON THE CLUB.
He was a Western man. The subject was music,
and how appropriate certain airs are for certain oc
casions.
“ That’s so,” said the Western specimen of hu
man quartz; “ but the most appropriate music to
any occasion that I ever heard was out in Colorado.
There was a traveling chiropodist out there who
went around with a brass band.”
“ Well,” said young Mozart, “where did the ap
propriate music co-me in ?”
“It was this way: Whenever that man would
strike a town his band would play, ‘ See, the Corn
curing Hero comes.’ ”
He lives, but his most intimate friend would not
recognize him.
SCINTILLATIONS.
A dun horse—the tax collector’s.
Wealth has its cares as well as poverty
—but they are more popular.
“I am going to meter,” said the gas
man, and he went down in (to cellar and buzzed
U 9 cook for *n
There 13 none so unfortunate but there
is some place which he is calculated to ornament.
The how-legged men, when on horseback, can laugh
at straght-limbed humanity.
The fly, that in July stung you on the
end of your nose seventy times in a minute at meal
time, is now anxious to crawl under the blankets
and call you a man and a brother.
“I never argy agin a success,” said
Artemus Ward; " w.ben I see a rattlosuaix’s had
sticking out of a hole I bear off to the left and says
I to myself that hole belongs to that snaix.”
Elizabeth, N. J., can’t pay the inter
est on its .bonds, let alone having anything in its
city treasury for the Aidermen to catch on to. This
makes a comparatively honest local government.
Some lowa girls almost whipped their
schoolmaster to death for favoritism to another
girl. The poor fellow said he tried to hug every
girl in the school, but the job was too much for
him.
There is said to be a movement on
foot to substitute electricity for hanging in cases of
capital punishment. We approve of this and would
suggest as the cheapest, quickest and surest means
of death, that Jersey lightning be used upon the
victim.
“You were asleep last night, weren’t
you, my dear, when I came in?" he asked. "Yes,
and it was a great blessing to you that I was asleep."
"I hardly think," he returned, mildly, "that it was
a great blessing. It was owing to the fact that you
were asleep that I escaped a great blessing."
“ My dear,” said a wife to her exhaust
ed husband, in a dry goods store, "do you notice
those ladies’ pocket-books marked fifty cents each ?
They are remarkably cheap." "I notice them," he
said, edging in the direction of the street entrance;
“but remember the old maxim, ‘Never buy any
thing you have no use for because it is cheap.’ ”
Husband (reading from Scott) —“ Not
one in twenty marries the first love. How was it in
your case, my dear?" Wife—" How was it in your
case?" Husband—" You must make the first con
fession—don’t answer like a parrot by asking me
the same question." Wife—" Well, here's the honest
truth. If you married your first love, I married my
first. If you didn’t, I didn’t,"
At a fancy dress party a short time
ago a young lady was dressed in a marvelous dress
of green and red in which imaginative eyes were
supposed to discover some more or less resem
blance to lettuce and lobster. “What do you rep
resent, Miss M?" a gentleman inquired, as they
took their places in a set. "Don’t you see ?’’ she re
turned, laughing; "I’m a salad." "O!’’ washer
partner’s retort, while he flashed a quick eye over
the very liberal exposure of her person; "but
haven’t you forgotten to put on the dressing ?"
Not long sines a merchant in Salem,
who has a very happy way of administering re
bukes, needed an assistant book-keeper, and en
gaged a young man who had been graduated from
an Oregon university. The new employee was
rather quick at figures, but very lame in ortho
graphy. He opened the day book "Wensday."
This was allowed to pass as a slip of the pen, but
when in acknowledging the receipt of a remittance,
the young man wrote "Youres verey truley," his
employer, speaking in a kind, fatherly way, re
marked: " Don’t be so extravagant with your
vowels. You may run short in your old age, and
thep you’ll have to talk Welsh."
BLOCK ISLAND.
KNOWN AS THE LAZY MAN’S PARA-
DISK _
Block Island is the quaintest ocean resort on
tho American coast. It is a miniature world in
which the habits and customs are those of 150
years ago. Nearly fifteen miles off tho Rhode
Island shore, almost directly south of stormy
Point Judith, it appears Irom the mainland a
dark, purple cloud on the southern horizon.
As soon as yod reach its shore you are out of
tho world. The friction and bustle of work
day life are wanting. There is no sound of
singing~birds in tho deep,, gloomy hollows, or
on the wind-blown treeless hillock; tho note of
a cricket is rarely heard, and the only interrup
tion of the quiet is the regular swash of the
surf on the distant rocks. The drowsy land
scape and unruffled flow oflife invite the visitor
to repose and reverie.
Block Island is called the “lazy man’s para
dise.” It is a healthful place. The income of
a resident physician in 1881, from medical at
tendance on tho 1,400 inhabitants, was $2,25.
Before quitting the island at the end of the
year, he told an islander that he had lost his
own health in trying to work up a practice.
The Block Island fields are of miniature di
mensions, about an acre to a lot. There is
hardly land enough to go around, each resident
being a farmer as well as a fisherman, and the
island is only about seven and a half miles long
by two and a half miles broad. Every knoll is
capped with a small, old-fashioned, one-story
farm-house, whose Shingled walls are thickly
coated with whitewash, the only wash that will
withstand the intensely vaporous salty air which
melts the salt in the glass cellar on the family
table into a thick lumpy mass.
Some of the dwellings are 150 years old, and
the “ old wind-mill ” was built of lumber from
trees that grew on the island early,in the last
century. There is not a tree on Block Island
except a few pinched and starveling ponlars
that were set out around a few of the dwellings
as an experiment. Trees do not get a foothold
oh the bleak farms, The front door of almost
every house opens into an orderly kitchen gar
den, a pebbly walk leading through it to a white
paling that opens into the street.
All the families are members of the Baptist
church. There is not an acknowledged sinner on
the island, the population having been convert
ed in one winter revival several years ago.
Every voter of native birth is a Democrat. The
people are industrious and thrifty. There are
no paupers.
Won’t Take a Fobtune. —Regularly
every year Thomas Conroy, an industrious
shoemaker of Tanner’s Falls, Pa., receives offi
cial notice from Dublin, Ireland, that a fortune
of £5,000, with the accumulations of twenty-six
years, is in bank there awaiting his order, and
regularly every year he sends back word that
he will never touch a penny of the money until
he has had justice done him in another way—
an apology from his uncle, who had wronged
him.
Words of Warning and Comfort.
“ If you are suffering from poor health or
•languishing on a bed of sickness, take cheer,
‘ if you are simply ailing, or if you feel
‘weak and dispirited,
’ without clearly know-
‘ ing why, Hop Bitters
‘ will surelyscure you.
If you are a minister, and
have overtaxed yourself with your
pastoral duties, or a mother, worn out
with care and work, or a man of business, or
labor, weakened by the strain of your every-day duties,
or a man of letters toiling over your midnight work, Hop
Bitters will most surely strengthen you.
If you are suffering fiom over-eating or drinking, any
indiscretion or dissipation, or are young and growing too
fast, aa is often the case,
“Or if you are in the workshop, on the
* farm, at the desk, anywhere, and feel
‘that your system needs cleansing, to
‘ningor stimulating, without intoxicat
ing, it you are old,
‘ blood thin and impure, pulse
‘ feeble, nerves unsteady, faculties
‘waning, Hop Bitters is what you need to
4 give you new life, health and vigor. ”
If you are costive, or dyspeptic, or suffer
ing from any other of the n other ous dis
eases of the stomach or bowels, it is your
own fault if you remain ill.
If you are wasting away with any form
of Kidney disease, stop tempting death this
moment, and turn for a cure to Hop Bitters.
If you are sick with that terrible sickness, Nervousness,
you will find a “ Balm in Gilead” in Hop Bitterr.
—lf you are a frequenter, or a resident of,
—a miasmatic district, barricade your sya-
—tem against the scourge of all countries
—Ma’aria, Epidemic, Bilious and Inter- 1
—mittent Fevers by the use of Hop Bitters.
If you have rough, pimply, or sallow skin, bad breath,
Hop Bitters will give you fair skin, rich blood, the sweet
est breath and health. SSOO will be paid for a case they
will not cure or help.
A Lady’s Wish.
“ Oh, how I do wish my skin was as ’clear and soft as
yours,” said a lady to her friend. “ You can easily make
it so,” answered the friend. "How?” inquired the first
lady.
“ By using Hop Bitters, that makes pure, rich blood and
blooming health. It did it for me, as you observe.”
O’* None genuine without a bunch of green Hops on
the white label. Shun all the vile, poisonous stuff with
‘Hop”or “ Hops” in their name.
Iranciw
Used for over 25 years with great success by the
physicians of Paris, New York and London,
rior to all others for the prompt cure of all cases,recent
or of long standing. Put up only in Glass Bottles
containing 64 Capsules each. PRICE 75 CENTS, i
MAKING THEM THE CHEAPEST CAPSULES
IN THE MARKET.
TAPE WORMS REMOVED
IN TWO HOURS. A PERMANENT CURE GUARAN
TEED IN EVERY CASE. Prof. A. W. ALLEN, No. G 94
GRAND STREET, New York City. ALLEN’S SWEET
WORM WAFERS, a positive cure for STOMACH and PIN
WORMS. All Druggists.
PRIVATEDiSEASES
of men, recent or long standing, and nervous debility !
cured without mercury or mineral poisons. Send stamp '
for circular. Address Dr. H. Franz, Botanic Medical i
Institute, No. 513 Third avenue, New York City. (Estab- '
lished since 1860.) Mention Dispatch.
iMWNSgags&rd
vigorating Pill, sl. All post-paid. Address
New England Medical Institute,
No. 24 Tremont Row, Boston, Mass. £%
* * *
** \ **
** Jr wSK
i; •’.
* * :
LYDIA E. PmKHAM’S
* VEGETABLE COMPOUND *
***** IS A POSITIVE CURE * * * * •
For nil of those Painful Complaints and
* * Weaknesses so comiuon to our best * *
* * * * * FEMALE POPULATION.* * * # *
It will cure entirely the worst form of Fe
male Complaints, all Ovarian troubles, In-i
FLAMMATION AND ULCERATION. FALLING AND Dl9-
PLACEMENTS, AND THE CONSEQUENT SPINAL WEAK-’
NESS, AND IS PARTICULARLY ADAPTED .TO THE
Change of Life. ***** ***
* It WILL DISSOLVE AND EXPEL TUMORS FROM TUB
Uterus in an early stage of development. Tua
TENDENC YTOCANCEROUS HUMORS THEREISOHECKEO
VERY SPEEDILY BY ITS USE. ******
* It removes Faintness, Flatulency, destroy*
ALL CRAVING FOR STIMULANTS, AND RELIEVES WEAK
NESS of the Stomach. It cures Bloating, Head
ache, JNeryous Prostration, General Debility/
Depression and Indigestion. * * * * *
* That feeling of Bearing Down, causing Pain/
Weight and Backache, is always permanently
cured by its use. ********
* It will ’at"all times and under all curcuma
STANCES ACT IN HARMONY JVITH TUB LAWS THAT
GOVERN THE FEMALE SYSTEM. *****
* JB®“ITS PURPOSE IS SOLELY forthelegitiMAts
HEALING OF DISEASE AND THE RELIEF OF PAIN, AN»
THAT IT DOES ALL IT CLAIMS TO DO, THOUSANDS OF
LADIES CAN GLADLY TESTIFY, * * * *
’ * * For the cure of Kidney Complaints in
EITHER SEX THIS’ REMEDY IS, UNSURPASSED. * *
* LYDIA E. PINKHAM’S VEGETABLE COMPOUND ia
prepared at Lynn, Moss. Price sl. Bix bottles for $5.
NoJd by all druggists. Sent by mail, postage paid, in form
of Pills or Lozenges on receipt of price'os above. Mrs.
Pinkham’s "Guide to Health” will be mailed free to any
Lady sending stamp. Letters confidentially answei-ed. *
* No family should bo vzithout LYDIA E. PINKHAM’S
LIVER PILLS. They cure Constipation, Biliousness and
Torpidity of the Liver. 25 cents per box. * ♦ * »
r~CAIN
Health and Happiness.
*&>'' DO AS OTHERS
havecohe.
Ar© your Kidneys disordered?
"Kidney Wort brought me from my grave, as it
werp, after I had been given up by 13 beat doctors in
Detroit." M. W. Deveraux, Mechanic, lonia, Mich.
Are your nerves weak?
"Kidney Wort cured mo from nervous weakness
&c., after I was not expected to live.’’—Mrs. M. M. B.
Goodwin, Ed. Christian Monitor, Cleveland, O.
Hava you Bright’s Disease?
"Kidney-Wort cured me when my water was just
like chalk and then like blood."
Frank Wilson, Peabody, Mass.
Suffering from Diabetes ?
"Kidney-Wort is tne most successful remedy I have
I ever used. Gives almost immediate relief."
Dr. Phillip C. Ballou, Monkton, Vt.
Have you Liver Complaint?
"Kidnoy-Wort cured me of chronic Liver Diseases
after I prayed to die.’’
Henry Ward, late Col. 6<)th Nat. Guard, N. Y.
Is your Back lame and aching?
s "Kidney-Wort. (1 bottle) cured me when I was so
Lame I had to roll - out of bed."
O. M, Tailmage, Milwaukee, Wis.
Have ’you'" Kidney Disease?
"Kidney-Wort made mo sound in liver and kidneys,
after years of unsuccessful doctoring. Its worth
$lO a box.”—Sam’l Hodges, Williamstown, West Va.
I Are you Constipated?
a "Kid.noy-Wort causes easy evacuations and cured
gfi me at'tvr 15 years use of other medicines."
| -— * Nelson Fairchild, St. Albans, Vt.
I . Have you Malaria?
‘-'Kidney-Wort has done better than any other
g remedy I have ever used in my practice.”
— Dr. It. K. Clark, South Hero, Vt.
| Are you Bilious?
$ "Kidney-Wort has done me more good than any
® other remedy I have ever taken.’’.
js , Mrs. J. T. Galloway, Elk Flat, Oregon.
I Are you tormented with Piles?
a "Kidney-Wort nerinanenH/ cured me of bleeding
ra piles. Dr. W. O. Kline recommended it to me.”
g Geo. H. Horst, Cashier M. Bank, Myerstown, Pa.
1 Are you Rheumatism racked ?
I] "Kidney-Wort cured me. after 1 was given up to
it! die by physicians and I had suffered thirty years."
| 7 ElbridgeJdolcolm,Wess Maine,
1 Ladies, are you suffering?
U "Kidnoy-Wore cured me of peculiar troubles of,
I several years standing. Many friends use and praise
it.” Mrs. H. Lamoreaux, Isle La Motto, Vt,
If you would Banish Disease
i and gain Health, Take
Tub Slooo Cleanser.
j.SUMPHREYS
For the Care of all diseases of
Horses, Cattle, Sheep
DOGS, HOGS, POULTRY.
Used successfully for 20 years by Far
mers, Stockbreeders, Horse R.R., Ac.
Endorsed & used by the U.S.Govertun’t.
Pamphlets & Charts sent
HUMPHREYS’ MEDICINE CO.,
109 Fulton St, New York.
• ’ Humphreys’ Homeopathic
Specific N 0.28
In S use 30 years. The only successful remedy tor
Nervous DeWy, Vital Weakness,
and Prostration, from * over-work or other causes,
per vial, or 5 vials and large vial powder, for $5.
Sold by Druggists, or sent postpaid on receipt of
BRANCH STORE, NO. 823 BROADWAV.
THE SCIENCE OF LIFE. Oalysl
BY MAIL POST-PAID.
KNOW THYSELF,
A GREAT MEDICAL WORK ON MANHOOD.
Exhausted Vitality, Nervous and Physical Debility,
Premature Decline in Man. Errors of Youth, and the un
told miseries resulting from indiscretion or excesses. A
book for everyman, young, middle-aged and old. It con
tains 125 prescriptions for all acute and chronic diseases,
each one of which is invaluable. So found by the Author,
whose experience for twenty-throe years is such as proba
bly never before fell to the lot of any physician. 30®
pages, bound in beautiful French muslin, embossed
covers, full gilt, guaranteed to be a finer work in every
sense—mechanical, literary and professional—than any
other work sold in this country for $2.50, or the money
will be refunded in every instance. Price only SI.OO by
mail, post paid. Illustrative sample six cents. Send
now. Gold medal awarded the author by the National
Medical Association, tojhe offers of which he refers.
The Science ot Lile should be read by the young for in
struction, and by the afflicted for relief. It will benefit
all — lonian Lancet.
There is no member of society to whom The Science ot
Life will not be useful, whether youth, parent, guardiaa.
Instructor or clergyman.— Argonaut.
Address the Peabody Medical Institute, or Dr. W. EL
Parker, No 4, Bullfinch street, Boston, Mass., who ma/
be consulted on all diseases requiring skill and experi
ence. Chronic and obstinate diseases that have*baffled
the skill of all other physicians SB A S a speci
alty. Such treated success O & Bss ,ull Y
without an instance of fail- «&s be eta ■ sn>
ure. Mention this paper. j g"
Health is Wealth!
rarSvfOj aßAus.-
Dr. E. C. West’s Nerve and Brain Treatment, a
guaranteed specific for Hysteria, Dizziness, Convulsions,
Fits, Nervous Neuralgia, Headache, Nervous Prostration
caused by the use of alcohol or tobacco, Wakefulness,
Mental Depression. Softening of the Brain resultingin
insanity, and leading to misery, decay and death, Pre
mature Old Age, Barrenness, Loss of Power in either sex.
Involuntary Losses and Spermatorrhoea caused by over
exertion of the brain, sei'-abuse or over-indulgence. Each
box contains one month’s treatment. $1 a box, or six
boxes for $5, sent by mail prepaid on receipt of price.
WE GUARANTEE SIX BOXES
To cure any case. With each order received by us for six
boxes, accompanied with $5, we will send the purchaser
our written guarantee to refund the money if the treat
ment does not effect a cure. Guarantees issued only
ioia O, Wew It Co., 863 Wont Maauoa st. CbiCKO. lU>
7