New York dispatch. [volume], July 26, 1885, Page 7, Image 7

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

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DISHONORED.
BY LEE 0. HARBY.
brooding shadows closed around the place
As deeply sombre as the fell disgrace
Whose blight about his life had swiftly crept.
Ihere lay he, dead—and there the mourners wept,
JBut not for him whose own dishonored hand
Had sped his spirit to the unknown land,
lit rest upon his coffin s narrow bed, ...
{No murmured blessing breathed above his head;
Kis father shuddered as he saw his face
And cursed the author of his name’s disgrace;
His mother came not near him, but in tears
SBesieged high heaven with her anguished prayers;
His sisters, brothers, to each other clung,
While from their lips a bitter cry was wrung
by his crime would darkened be each lire I
Apart from all, there stood his child and wife
She drew her boy close to her heart and said
V Thank God, my darling, that hi lieth dead.
»*His was a traitor’s life and coward’s end,
sFas said by him who once bad been his inena.
Hot e’en his dog in that still presence came,
put hid from sight as tho’ he shared his shame.
So paled the day into the evening’s gloom.
sV*hen passed a figure thro’ tho dusky room;
So swift, yet so!t, she entered thro’ the door,
Her footfall scarce was beard upon the floor.
She stooped above the dead and, praying, pressed
A silver crucifix upon his breast,
sJhen o’er the holy symbol laid a wreath
And, weeping, passed irom out the place of death.
A. thrill of wonder stirred the silent air
such a token should be offered there;
SVhon spoke a solemn voice : •* A woman’s heart
Which loving once, loves ever, takes his part—
mourning, death and tender thought
Are symboled in the offerings she brought—
S’here yew and cypress in a circle meet,
ftntwined with pansies dark and violets sweet,
And in its centre lo ! a star of light,
»?air fashioned irom the myrtle’s pearly white.
£The cross, of mercy speaks—the wreath above,
•©I an eternal life—the star is love.”
—N. O. Times Democrat,
A
BY GUY DE MAUPASSANT.
r Paolo Saverini’s widow lived alone with her
■toil in a miserable little house on the ramparts
tt Bonifacio. The city, built upon a projection
Bf the mountain, and even hanging directly
•above the sea in some places, commands,
across the strait that bristles with rocks, a
good view of the lowest port on of the Sardin
ian coast. At its feet, on the other side, but
almost flanking it entirely, an opening in the
Cliff shaped like a gigantic corridor, serves it
Tor a port, enabling the little Italian or Sardin
ian fishing-smacks to advance to the first line
Of houses, after a long circuit between two ab
rupt walls; and every fifteen days comes the
Did wheezy steamboat which plys between tho
Sown and Ajaccio.
Upon the white mountain the mass of houses
tnake a still whiter stain. They seem like nests
pf wild birds attached to the rock, and over
looking the terrible passage into which vessels
never venture. Without repose the wind la
bors the sea, labors the naked coast which it
gnaws forever, and which has scarcely a cover
ing of green; it rushes into the narrow detroit,
Ravaging either shore. The long trails of white
loam, clinging to the points of the countless
rocks which pierce the water everywhere, have
the aspect of tatters ot clothes floating and quiv
©i mg on tho surface.
’ The house of the Widow Saverini, perched
tipon the very edge of the clift, as if soldered
here, opened its three windows to the wild and
jdesolate horizon.
She lived there all alone with her son and
Sbcir dog, Allegro—a great, gaunt beast with
long, bristling hair, of sheep-dog breed. The
Bog aided the young man in hunting.
One evening, after a quarrel, Antonio Saver-
Ini was treacherously killed—with a single
knife thrust, by Nicolo Ravolati, who, tho same
tight, fled to Sardinia.
When the old mother received the corpse of
her child, that some passers-by had found and
parried to her, she did not weep at all, but re
trained for a long time motionless, staring at
She body; then stretching out her wrinkled
hand over tho body, she promised the dead a
•vendetta. She would not allow any one to re
inain with her, and she shut herself up alone
.with the dog, which howled. The brute howled
continuously, standing up with his forepaws on
She edge of the bed, turning his head toward
Jiia master’s face, and keeping his tail between
ibis legs. There he remained, motionless as the
Another, who now, bending above the corpse,
•contemplated it with a fixed stare, while great
iomb tears rolled down her cheeks.
Lying on his back at full length, still wearing
ftis great coarse jacket, torn aud pierced at the
treast, the youth seemed to sleep; but his
tflood was everywhere—on the shirt that had
peen torn open when tho first attempt at aid
yras made—on his vest—on his trowsers—on his
|ace —on his hands. Gouts of blood had thick
ened in his beard and hair.
The old mother began to speak to him. At
the sound of her voice, the dog ceased to howl.
“Never mind—never mind! thou wilt be
hvenged, my little one—my. own boy, my poor
Bear child. Sleep !—sleep I—thou wilt be
avenged; dost hear? It is mother who promises
khis to thee, and she always keeps her word—
Another does!’’
And she bent down slowly over him, pressing
|ier lips upon the cold dead lips.
Then Allegro again began to howl. He ut
tered a long, monotonous plaint—piercing, hor
rible.
The two remained there until morning—the
Woman and the animal.
Antonio Saverini was buried next morning,
and folks soon ceased to speak of him in Boni
. lacio.
He had left no brother, nor even any near
bousing. There was no man to pursue the ven
detta. The old woman only thought of it—the
Bld mother.
From morning till night she watched a white
Speck gleaming across the strait—on the low
shore beyond. It was the little Sardinian vil
lage, Longo-Sardo, whither Corsican banditti
still fly for refuge when too closely pursued.
They alone constitute almost the entire popula
tion of the hamlet, fronting the coast of their
Own fatherland, and they wait there for the
chance to return to the mountain thickets. She
knew it was in that village that Nicolo Ravolati
Was biding. -,
AH day long, while sitting alone at her win
dow, she looked across the wafer,/pondering
vengeance. But what was she to d 6 without
any man to aid—a weak old wdman, with one
foot in the grave ? Nevertheless she had prom
ised—she had sworn upon the corpse. She
could not forget—she could not wait. What
■was she to do? She could not sleep at night
for thinking ot it—she could neither rest nor
find peace of mind—she thought, and planned,
and devised incessantly, obstinately. The dog,
which slept at her feet, occasionally lifted hie
head with a start, and howled at the empty air.
Binoe his master had been killed, the dog often
howled like that—as if trying to call him back,
as if his inconsolable animal-sonl was also
haunted by a memory which nothing could
efface.
Now, one night while Allegro was howling, a
sudden idea came to the mother—an idea worthy
of a vindictive and ferocious savage. She thought
over it until morning, and rising at the first
gleam of dawn, she hurried to the church.
There, prostrate upon the pavement, casting
herself down before God, she prayed him to aid
her, to sustain her—to give her poor old body
strength enough to enable her to avenge her
son.
Then she went home. She had an old barrel
In her yard in which she used to collect the
rain water. This she emptied, laid on its side,
fixed firmly to the ground by means of stakes
and staves. Then she chained Allegro to this
■extemporized kennel and went into the house.
She began to walk backward and forward in
her room without ever resting, glancing from
time to time at the Sardinian coast. He was
there—the murderer 1
All that day and all the night following the
Ilog howled. In the morning the old woman
brought him a bowl of water, but nothing else—
not even a bit of bread or a drop of soup.
Another day passed. Allegro, worn out with
hunger, slept. When morning came his eyes
glittered, all his hair bristled, and he pulled
crazily at his chain.
Still the old woman gave him nothing to eat.
The brute became furious and barked hoarsely.
Another night passed.
Early in the morning Mother Saverini went to
her nearest neighbor and begged for some wisps
of straw. Then ehe took some old clothes that
had formerly belonged to her husband, and
stuffed them with the straw so as to imitate the
form of a human body.
Planting a pole firmly in the ground in front
Of Allegro’s kennel, she fastened the mannikin
upon it so that it seemed to stand. Then she
made a head for it out of some old rags fast
ened into a ball.
The astonished dog stared at this man of
Straw and stopped bowling, although tortured
With hunger.
Then the old woman went to the butcher’s
shop and bought a long black sausage, which
she took home with her. She kindled a wood
fire in the yard, near the kennel, and began to
eook the sausage. Allegro, wild with expecta
tion, mad with the odor of tho meat that en
tered his very entrails, leaped and howled and
loamed at the month.
Then the mother made a cravat for the straw
man out of the smoking sausage. She tied it
very tightly arround the neck of the mannikin
as if to squeeze it into the pole. When this was
done, she unchained the dog.
With one tremendous bound the dog reached
the throat of the mannikin, and with his paws
pressed against the shoulders, began to tear.
He fell back with a piece in his mouth, de
voured it, leaped again, driving his teeth through
the strings, tore away another morsel, and
leaped again, and tore away furiouslv. He
rent away the head with frenzied bites-he
tore the neck into ribbons.
Silent and motionless the old woman
watched him, while her eyes blazed. Then she
chained up the dog again, made him fast for two
days more and recommenced the strange
lesson.
For three whole months she accustomed him
to this sort of a struggle lor food, to repasts
obtained only by the strength of his fangs. Then
ehe ceased to chain him; lor she had him so
well trained that he would leap at the mannikin
the moment she gave him a sign.
She had trained him even to rend it, io de
vour it, when there was no meat attached to it.
As his reward, she always gave him a big piece
Of fried sausage.
Whenever Allegro looked at the mannikin his
whole body would quiver with excitement, and
ho would turn his eyes to tho face of his mis
tress, waiting for her to hiss the words—“ At
biml” with finger pointing.”
When she thought the time had come, old
Mother Saverini went to confession, and com
municated one Sunday morning with ecstatic
fervor. Then she dressed herselt in man s
clothes, disguised herself as an old ragged
beggar, and made a bargain with a Sardinian
fisherman to take both her and the dog across
the strait.
She bad an immense piece of fried sausage in
a canvass bag. Every once in a while she made
Allegro smell it, so as to excite him. Tho dog
had eaten nothing for two days.
They entered into Longo-Sardo. The old
Corsican woman walked with a limping gait.
She stopped at a butcher’s shop, and asked
where Nicolo Ravolati lived. He had gone back
to his old trade—carpentering. He worked all
alone at the rear of his shop.
The old woman pushed open the door, and
called him;
“ Hey I Nicolo I”
He turned his head; she instantly let loose
her dog, and cried out:
“At him !—at him I —tear him, tear him I”
The maddened animal bounded forward and
caught him by the throat. The man struggled
to throw off the brute—fell on his back
writhed, and beat the ground with his feet for a
moment. Then ho lay very still, while Allegro
buried his teeth deeper and deeper in his
throat, tearing tho flesh away in great shreds.
# * * * * *
Two neighbors, sitting on their doorsteps,
said they remembered distinctly to have seen
an old beggar leaving the house, accompanied
by a great, gaunt black dog, which, as it walked
along, kept eating something—something brown,
which its master was giving it.
The same evening the old woman returned
home. That night ehe slept well.—A. 0. Times-
Democrat.
losFsjiie_bush.
A YOUNG GIRL’S TERRIBLE EX
PERIENCE IN AUSTRALIA.
{From the Melbourne Argus.)
A special correspondent of tho Arqus gives
the following graphic account of the finding of a
young girl, Clara Crosbie, who had been lost in
the bush for three weeks : “It was on the twen
tieth day after the girl loft her house that a
couple of friends started out to look for a horse
which had strayed in the ranges. A farmer aud
contractor who has been fourteen years in the
district and knows his way about, was accom
panied in this quest by a pianoforte tuner, who
was on a tour through the district. They struck
the Cockatoo creek, and as they watched the
turbid stream flowing through the oozy bed of
a large morass, the farmer began to expatiate
upon the advantages of canals for drainage pur
poses with as much fervor as the late Hugh
McColl used to praise canals for irrigation pur
poses. The friends grew so interested in the
subject that they got off their horses to dis
cuss it, and they were soon deep in the history
of the Suez canal aud that of its engineer, De
Lesseps. Then remounting and skirting the
swamp, they were riding rapidly away when
the piano tuner found the head of a starved do
mestic cat, which had vainly sought succor in a
hole in a tree. The farmer obliged his ‘ town
chum,’ as he calls him, by waiting till the piano
tuner once more left his saddle, and with a stick
fully disentombed the feline victim of misplaced
confidence in the nutritive resources of the Lily
dale bush.
“He was just mounting again when a low
sound like a young blackbird s whistle caught
the acute ear of the experienced bushman by his
side.
“ ‘Hish !’ said the farmer. ‘ What’s that ?
“Again the wailing, plaintive note was borne
softly on the breeze. It was enough this time.
The "farmer was sure it was a coo-e-e.
“ ‘ I never,’ he says, ‘hear a coo-e-e twice in
the bush without answering it.’
“I answered it, and the soft, weak voice came
to us again, just a little louder. I was sure
something was wrong, but I could not say where
the sound came from because of the echo of the
hills. I galloped up the rise in front of us and
coo-e-ed now and again. Every time we coo-e-ed
—indeed, ottener—we got the response of that
low, yet piercing note of distress. When we got
on to the hill, I was sure the voice came from
the swamp we had left. As fast as logs, bogs
arid ravines would lot us, we advanced toward
the spot where we had been talking about ca
nals. I heard some one speaking, but could
not make out the words, and the scrub was so
thick I could not see any one.
“ At last I caught sight of a little girl and it
wont to my heart to see her so thin and woe
begone; but I could not believe it was Clara
Crosbie, or that she could have lived so long.
The little creature was tottering toward us in
her ulster, without shoes or stockings on, but
quite sensible. She said, ‘ I want to go home to
my mother. I have been lost three weeks.’
She was so weak that she could scarcely stand.
I jumped off my horse, put my coat round her
and took her up in my arms. She said she
wanted a drink, but I wished to hasten back to
the camp with her, as I was afraid she might go
off. it would have been terrible for her to have
died in my arms after all she had suffered and I
had found her. She said she lived in a tree
and used to go for water, but that she had been
too weak to go for any for two days, and I could
quite believe it. She said her clothes were in
the tree, but we did not stay to look tor them,
but started home at once. The piano-tuner
went on to bring some tea, and, although he
can't ride, I never saw a man go across the
country in better style, as if there was no such
thing as breaking his neck in such a tangle.
He met me half way, but I had given the little
thing a drink out ot my hat before that. Didn’t
she lap it up eagerly, and then talked all the
more about how she wandered away and crossed
the creek and found the hollow tree and got too
frightened and too tired to travel any more.
“ We gave her some tea aud toast, and when
we got to the camp the oook said he saw a man
who was lost in New Zealand, and the doctor
gave him some oat-meal with some brandy in it.
But Clara smelt some pork and potatoes, and
she did beg hard lor some of that dinner. I
believe she thinks me hard to this day. After
she had eaten a little, and now that"she felt
quite safe and the excitement was over, she
began to look worse than when we first found
her. We could see the ravages which hunger
aud exposure had made; but, considering what
ehe had gone through, she was wonderfully
chirpy. She kept asking to be taken to her
mother. She was taken there in the blankets
of six of the boys, for every man wanted to have
a share in wrapping her up, and then she was
washed and put to bed at the hotel, which was
nearer than her mother's house. She has been
improving ever since, but you will see her for
yourself by and by, and get her to talk to you.
In a week she will be as right as ever, but it
was a close shave. I don’t think she would
have lasted another night, as the next night a
stiff frost was on and she had got too weak to go
to the creek tor water upon which she had lived.
How ehe lived, God knows. I have seen men
used to hardship knock under in a fourth of the
time. And then think ot the loneliness and the
wildness of the place where she was found. It
was enough to drive a child like hex’ mad. She’s
a living wonder.”
A LESSON hTgRAMMAR,
THE PROPER USE OF VARIOUS
WORDS AND PHRASES.
(From the Boston Beacon.)
The word “ while ” should never be used in
the sense of “ though.” The sentence, “While
i shall be glad to meet him, yet I cannot aid
him,” is not correct. The word “while” should
be used as a conjunction denoting time, in the
sense of “ as long as,” or “ at the same time
that.”
“ Quite,” used as an adverb, means “ per
fectly ” or “ completely.” “He is quite well”
does not mean “moderately well,” but “en
tirely well.” The expression “ quite a num
ber ” in the sense ot “ a large number ” is not
legitimate, and tho phrase “ the girl is quite
pretty ” means that she is very pretty, not
moderately good looking.
“ Under his signature ” has been largely dis
placed by the phrase, “ over bis signature.”
This change has been helped by the idea that
under means beneath aud the fact that
signatures are usually placed at the bottom of a
letter. But the word under is allied to the
Latin inter, between, and the expression “under
his signature ” is as good as “ under bis hand
and seal,” or, “under way,” or, perhaps,
“ understand.”
The word ovation is now used in the sense of
shouting and cheering. But as Professor E. A.
Freeman, of Oxford, points out, it has a strict
and definite meaning; it means the thanksgiv
ing for a victory which is not of the first im
portance, or which is won by a commander not
of the first rank. In such a case the victor
walked in state to the capitol and sacrificed a
sheep, while in the full triumph he was drawn
in a chariot and sacrificed a bull. The word
ovation, then, means a minor triumph, and
should not be applied to presidents, governors,
kings, generals in command, or the highest in
any position.
John Ashton’s admirable book, “Old Times ”
contains the statement that in Queen Anne’s
time no one but women used umbrellas, and
only those “ whose avocations compelled them
to be out, whatever the weather.” Even Web
ster s Dictionary, which is not excessively accu
rate, remarks “ that the use of this word for vo
cation is very improper,” and Skeat, who is
good in etymology, observes that the two words
should never have been confused. Vocation is
one’s regular calling; avocation is a synonym of
diversion, as the Latin avocatio means the call
ing away of one’s attention from regular em
ployment. It is a banker’s vocation to nego
tiate loans; to go to bankers’ dinners is his
avocation.
"Ritualist” has assumed an entirely new
meaning. About twenty-five years ago it meant
a student versed in liturgies aud church cere
monies. Accordingly it was legitimate to speak
of Catholic, Jewish and Mohammedan ritualists.
To-day the word means a Puseyito, or an Epis
copalian who attaches more importance to re
ligious vestments and ceremonies than the com
mon prayer-book seems to demand.
The use ot “ around ” for “round ” is said to
have originated in the Southern States. Around
is a hybrid word, and means “on all sides ot,”
and should not be used in expressions like “ A
Journey Round the World with General Grant.”
The equator goes around the earth; a traveler
does not.
On the point of “ begin ” and “commence ”
American writers are more cautious than their
English brethren. Very few English writers
shrink from the use of commence, when they
might just as well use the preferable word, be
gin. To begin is an honest Teutonic word; to
JNEW YORK DISPATCH, JULY 26. 1885.
commence is a bad Latin word which none of
the Roman classics ever used.
A common phrase is “ all of us,” or “ all of
them.” The expressions “ofus,” “of them,”
imply a part; the word “ all” implies the whole;
accordingly, the phrase “ all of us,” or “ all of
ttxem,” should be abandoned.
To have one do something, means, as Francis
Boott points out in the Andover Review, to re
quire or desire him to do it. Accordingly, it is
not correct to say, “I am sorry to have you go.”
A COMMON CHORD.
BY M. QUAD.
This was the touch of Nature that I witnessed
in an English inn:
“ I tell you, sir, that a man at seventy-two
ought to know what he is talking about;” and
whack went the stick of tho speaker on the floor
with a good seventy-two power.
“ Aud I tell you, sir, that if a man at seventy
two ought to know what he is talking about, a
man at seventy-four ought to know what he is
talking about to a greater degree and whack
went the stick of this speaker on the floor with
a good seventy-four power.
“ But increase of age does not always bring
increase of wisdom,” said the first speaker, with
a reflective and knowing air.
“That I candidly admit,” said tho other, with
a three-volume wink in his aged eye, “ having a
proof now before me and he took a drink
from his glass with the air of a man who has
said something worthy of preservation on mar
ble.
“Do you mean, sir, to insinuate that I am a
fool ?” inquired No> 1, with a look that he meant
to be ferocious.
“ Perhaps I do, and perhaps I don’t,” replied
No. 2, evasively.
“ Why, you dilapidated fossil, if I hadn’t more
sense in my head than you have, I’d sell it for
firewood,” and No. 1 took a drink from his glass
with the air of a man who deserved it.
“ Well, you might realize or you might not.
I’ve never seen heads of superannuated idiots
quoted.”
“ Why, you—you—insulting ”
“ Who are you calling insulting?”
“ I toll you, air I”
“ And I tell you, air !”
“What?”
“ What? Why, you can go to the devil; that’s
what I”
Tho old gentleman got up as if to start; but,
instead of doing so, he made an unsuccessful
attempt to pull No. 2’s nose. He missed it, how
ever, and accidentally knocked his own grog
over. Then he sat down again, and the two old
men glared vindictively at each other.
No. 1 presently said:
“ I haven’t been insulted like that for years.
I was a strong man then and I just up and
seized my insulter by the throat and flung him
yards.”
“Of course,” said the other old gentleman.
“ That was my case exactly. A few years ago a
fellow insulted me and I up and caught him by
the throat and flung him miles.”
“ Which means,” said No. 1 hotly, “ that you
jeer at me still, that you insult me still, I des
pise you, sir.”
“ Don’t say that,” returned his opponent with
a grin; “ I don’t despise you; I always look upon
natural curiosities with interest, and that is
how I view you.”
“Bah !” said the other; “you think yourself
a rarely fine fellow; why, my poor old woman
would have picked you up and dropped you out
of the window when* she was alive; but I buried
her last month, God rest her soul,” and the old
man forgetting his quarrel looked very sorrow
ful.
“ Buried her last month ?” inquired his oppo
nent with softened tones and a wettish look in
his eye.
“Yes, last month.”
“Deary me, deary me; why it’s not two
months since I laid my poor wife in the church
yard, after nearly fifty years of wedded life.
Excuse me, sir, but may I fill your glass
again ?”
“ Well, I hardly know.”
“ Never mind what we’ve said; we’re a couple
of fools to be quarreling.”
“So we are, so we are,” and the speaker
( reached out his hand and grasped the withered
old hand of the other man.
Tnen, with refilled glasses and all their wrath
L gone away forever, they sat and chatted about
, old times and far away memories. They were
strangers to each other, but they felt like
friends. One could tell how at his wedding the
’Squire and his lady danced, and the other
t could tell how his sweetheart went to tho other
side of the world with her father and mother,
’ and how be followed her, and brought her back
t as a wife. They could tell of their boys and
, girls, some lying under the daisies, and some
> abroad, and some with their own little ones
round the family hearth; and after a long chat
’ the two old fellows said “good-by and God
j bless you,” with cordiality, and with tears in
j their eyes.
j SOME QUEER WEDDINGS.
’ THE EXPERIENCES OF A PROMI-
1 NENT NORTH SIDE PREACHER.
A popular North Side preacher, says the In
f diauapolie B T eics, was “ taking turns” with tho
3 hired man in running a lawn-mower over his
a front lawn. He had paused to catch with a
3 handkerchief a salty pearl of perspiration that
threatened to drop from bis nasal tip to the
a cavity beneath, and to remark something Bbout
t “ all flesh being grass,” when a elouchy-looking
0 man stopped at the gate and asked if the
j preacher lived there.
o “I want to be married,” he explained, “and
right away, too.”
3 The pre'acher promised to get ready at once,
a and go to the bride with the groom.
r “ You needn’t mind puttin’ on nothin’ or go
in’ nowhere,” said the man.
j “ But where’s the bride ?”
I “ She’e right here. I left her in the alley till I
r could find you. She’s a backward sort of gal,
t and there’s no use trying to get her to no
0 church or into no parlor. But the license is all
1 right and you come along and tie the knot.”
!• By one ot those fortuitous circumstances
t which so often are meted providentially toftthe
v reportorial fraternity, a reporter happened
r along and was called as a witness.
s Ho followed the coatless preacher and the in
e nocent bridegroom to the head of the alley, and
g the groom cheerily called to “Clarie” to come
3 out. The papers were examined, the blanks
n filled out in full, and the wedding was per
r formed then and there.
“ Do you have many calls of this kind ?” was
it asked of the preacher.
q “A great many more than might be supposed,
a Very often quiet parties come to my house,
o usually having first notified me, and are mar
[, ried in the presence of a few witnesses—al
n though the witnesses are not necessary under
e the Indiana law. I had a case of this kind this
e week, and very reputable people they were.
t Not long ago I was stopped on the street and
e called up into a block to marry a couple. After
pronouncing them husband and wife, in accord
ance with my custom, I said, ‘Let up pray.’
The groom abandoned his bride, left her stand
ing in the middle of the floor, and walked across
the room to a bed, where he knelt throughout
S the prayer. I admired the sentiment which
prompted him to a return, no doubt; to a joy
hood custom, but in pity for the loneliness Cl
the bride I made the prayer unorthodoxly
n short.
e “It hasn’t been ten days since a bride and
q groom drove up to my door in a delivery wagon.
The groom was the regular driver, and upon his
e rounds he called for his Dulcinea and ‘ thought
e he’d just fetch her right up to the parson’s.’
He was in bis shirt-sleeves and work-clothes;
.. she was dressfed in white, with a great cluster
» of red ribbons knotted at her side. She looked
t . and acted the part of a bride, but he was more
like a last year’s groom.”
>t — —
A TITLED HOSTLER.
. GIVING A GENERAL A QUARTER
FOR HOLDING A TEAM.
t
,t (From the St. Alban’s Messenger.)
a General Stannard’s Second Vermont Brigade
e camp at Union Mills, in the Spring of 1863, was
r the gayest camp possible in the army of the
1 Potomac. It boasted, of such representatives
i, as Colonel Hooker, chief of staff, Lieutenants
Schermerhorn, Hill, Prentiss, gPerlev Downer
George M. Clark, Hank White, eta, of whom
. Colonel Hooker was the recognized leader. In
t “ foraging,” some of the boys of the brigade
- had discovered an aniediluvian vehicle, very
- costly and stylish probably in the day of its
t make in England. But it had been out of use
r for fifty years or more and was kept as an heir
a loom.
i The discovery of the carriage came 'to Hook
-1 er’s knowledge and he at once levied upon it
1 It was brought into camp, and with six mules’
, in the hands of the brigade teamster, the mem
-1 hers of General Stannard’s staff started to go
the rounds of inspecting regimental headquar
’ ters. They were gone nearly the iwhole alter
s noon, and of course were obliged to stop every
-1 where on|their rounds to “take something ”
1 The times were not so strictly temperate then
- as now. There was but little doing in camp
- and Stannard was not aware of their absence or
- their mission until this coqvevance, with the
i party, drove up to his headquarters and called
i him out.
i It is said that the general was very much cha
f grined at the predicament they were in, and
• considerably angered, too. Hooker sat with the
- driver on his “ seat in the air,” while Schermer-
- horn, Hill, Prentiss and Downer were m the
I box below. General Stannard did not intend
the “ rig ” should depart, so he stepped to the
' mules in the lead and took one by the bit. Then
i he went for his boys at a furious rate, using
- more adjectives and expletives than Mies Cleve
: land, if possible, but not the same sort. One
. by one they got out of the Confederate buggy
■ below and made for their quarters as best they
• could, taking plenty of time.
Stannard had directed the most of his conver
sation to Hooker, who, in turn, advised his
i comrades to go to their quarters. Finally Hook
l er came down; got down alter a while and went
directly to Stannard and quietly said:
“See here, general, I feel that I have been
’ honored to-day as never before. I have been
■ complimented beyond my expectations, because
it is the first time in my life that I ever had a
' brigadier-general for an hostler. Here is twen-
■ ty-iive cents; take it.”
Tho general took in the ridiculousness of the
situation and closed his lecture with a hearty
laugh. But the boys were slow to offend him
afterward.
ABSINTHE.
POPULARITY OF THE DEADLY 1
BEVERAGE IN THIS COUNTRY.
(From the Wheeling ( W. Va.) Register.)
A well-dressed stranger of middle #ge, wear
ing a haggard, care-wora look on hie rather t
handsome countenance, walked into a popular i
Market street sample room yesterday. He bore 1
the indescribable air of a man who had “ put in 1
the night,” and exhibited a restless impatience
in waiting on the pleasure ot the bartender. 1
His order when given was almost whispered, i
accompanied by a significant nod. The bar- x
tender took an ordinary sized flask from the
shelf behind him, and picking up a tiny spiral
glass, holding about a drachm, carefully filled it.
This was in turn emptied into an ordinary wine
glass filled with water. On the top of the com
pound a greenish sediment accumulated, which
was carefully removed with a spoon. The bev
erage was then handed to the customer, who
eagerly gulped it down, and paying the charges
left the room. In answer to- a question from a i
reporter, the bartender said the drink was ab- (
sinthe, a French liquor, which is rapidly f
growing into popularity in this country. In an- j
swer to a query as to the amount drank in
Wheeling, the bartender answered that the calls £
for either that particular beverage or any other
fancy drink of a kindred nature were compara- j
lively few, straight drinks having a tenacious ]
grip on the appetites of the greater portion of f
Wheeling people. 1
“We fill an occasional order for absinthe for i
theatrical people, the exalting quality of tho i
slrong stimulant making it extremely popular
among all reckless classes of society. I know {
of a number of ladies in Wheeling who daily
make use of the stimulant, and who, in order to (
deceive outsiders, drink alternately at several
sample rooms. There is a strong fascination {
about the drink, and when a person gets into
the habit of using it daily he rarely breaks off.
The geutleman who just left the room is a jew- <
elry drummer from New York, and for the past
few days he has paid me two or three visits a (
day, always drinking the same beverage. He i
told me he had first begun using the drug <
eighteen month ago, having it prescribed to
him by a physician for dyspepsia, but, forming <
the habit irom daily use of the stimulant, he
had gradually increased the amount until he i
had become a slave to the practice. He said
he had attempted on several occasions to break
from the habit, but had been forced back by
excessive nervousness, loss of appetite and i
sleep. He added that he knew the drug would ■
cause his death in time, but that he could not ,
refrain from the use of it. There are several of 3
the young fellows about town who occasionlly
indulge in a glass of absinthe, carelessly disre- <
garding the warnings given them. There are
few outside of these and the occasional tourist
that ever call for the drink.”
Later in the day the reporter met a promi
nent young physician, and finding him at lei- -
sure secured the following information in refer
ence to the origin ot the liquor: “Absinthe is
prepared by pounding the leaves aud flowering
tops ot various species of wormwood along with
angelica root, sweet flag-root and star-anise
fruit, and macerating these in alcohol. Alter
soaking for eight days the compound is distill
ed, yielding an emerald-colored liquor, to which
a quantity of anise-oil is added. The liquid
thus formed constitues the genuine French ab
sinthe.
“ An inferior quality of absinthe is made with
other herbs and essential oils, while the adul
terations practiced are numerous and deleter
ious. m the adulterated liquor the-green color
is usually produced by tumeric and indigo, but
blue vitriol is often commonly used. The varie
ties especially noted in commerce are divided
into two classes, the common, and the Swiss,
the latter being genuine. The chief seat of its
manufacture is in the Canton of Neufchatel,
Switzerland. The liquor is chiefly consumed
in France, but there are also large quantities
exported to this country. In addition to the
large quantities manufactured iu France far
home consumption the amount imported from
Switzerland averages 2,000,000 gallons yearly.
The drinkiug of absinthe was introduced into
France during the Algerian war, 1844-47. The
soldiers 4 were advised to mix absinthe with their
wine as a febrifuge. On their return they
brought with them the habit of drinking it,
which is now widely disseminated in France,
and with such disastrous consequences that the
custom is considered a great national evil.
“The appetite is often fox mod by prescrip
tions given by physicians, as the drug is often
given as a tonic for flatulent dyspepsia; but in
my opinion there is as little dangex* of a man
forming the habit, if he is possessed of ordin
ary self-control, as that a prescription of brandy
should cause him to become an habitual drunk
ard. The powerful nature of the stimulant is
such that excessive drinking will prove far more
deleterious than the use of brandy or strong
whiskies. In excessive drinking there is first
the feeling of exaltation, peculiar to a state of
intoxication. The increasing dose necessary to
create this effect destroys the digestive organs,
and consequently the appetite of the victim.
“ Au unappeasable thirst follows, with giddi
ness, tingling in the ears, hallucinations of the
sight and hearing, constant mental oppression
and anxiety, loss of brain power, and eventually
idiocy. The symptoms in the case of a tippler
commence with muscular quiverings and de
crease of physical strength, tho hair drops off,
and the victim becomes emaciated, wrinkled
and sallow, horrible dreams and delusions con
stantly haunt the unfortunate, and are followed
by paralysis, which lands him in the grave.”
mabkeF’samplers.
A PRODUCE MERCHANT TELLS
HOW HIS GOODS ARE STOLEN.
(From the Philadelphia Times.)
“ That’s eight this morning.”
The speaker wne a. wholesale profluoe mer
chant at the Dock Street Market. He held a
little girl tightly by the wrist, and in the little
girl’s hand was a large potato.
“ Come, put it back,” continued the merchant;
“ don’t you know I could send you up for steal
ing?’’ When he had allowed the child to run
away he went on : “Many of ’em? Why, I tell
you that’s eight or ten to-day. Some days
there’s more. It ain’t as I’d care about their
havin’ a potato, but I don’t see as they’ve any
right to steal ’em.”
“ The big show ones are on top, too, eh ?”
“ Well, maybe there’s somethin’ in that,” he
laughed. “ But, after all, to come to sense, if
everybody as paused by helped tbeiraelves to
one potato, don’t you think we’d suffer? I
assure you there’s a crowd of little boys and
girls ae is sent out reg’lar every day to get what
they can, an’ take it home. Some of ’em got
baskets. Beside them there’s the market sam
plers.”
“ Market samplers ? What are they ?”
“ They are women—l suppose they’d like to
be called ladies—who come down one day to
one market and one day to another. They
never buy anything, bnt just go around from
stall to stall and sample the truck. They get a
potato from one place an’ another, an onion
from here and yonder, a carrot or two in the
same way, an’ p’raps manage to pick up a cab
bage if they ain’t watched. Them’s market
samplers, an’ a big nuisance they are.”
“Do you mean to say they make a regular liv
ing that way ?”
“Of course I <Jo, I-ook, now; you see this re
spectable dressed lady cornin’ along? See if
she don’t sample some o’ my goods.”
A tall, well-looking lady came up, bearing a
small marketing basket on one arm and with an
apparently well-filled purse in her hand. .She
put some of the usual questions to the dealer,
who informed her that be only sold wholesale.
She said she thought of purchasing a barrel of
potatoes, and proceeded to examine some of the
goods. The calm manner in which she spent a
minute over one barrel and a minute over an
other, picking out a potato and transferring it
to the hand which held the purse, until she had
selected some six of the tubers, was refreshing
to behold. Then, turning to the merchant, she
said she would take them home to try and would
let him know the result. He was speechless at
her coolness, and said nothing as she walked
quietly away.
“There ! what do yon think o’ that? There’s
no stopping that, you know, but I can and will
stop theta youngsters stealin’. There’s one on
’em now—the eleventh to-day !” and he rushed
off after an embryo sneak thief.
~ KEEP 7 COOL.
BY ELLA GUERNSEY.
(Fi-orn the Burlington Hawk-Eije.)
The very best thing one can do, these veity
uncomfortable days.
I really do not care to wear magnificent vel
vets, gros grains and satins, I haven’t any to
oppress me, but that doesn’t trouble me. In
deed a sprigged lawn, my very best, is good
enough for me, these hot dayj.
If I could go to the sea side, Saratoga, or
Adirondacks, or lie in hammocks, and read
novels, I could manage to keep delightfully
cool, but when I have to sally forth early in the
morning to gather vegetables, weed onions,
beets, etc., then rush in the culinary depart
ment, poke up the fire, prepare those vegeta
bles, stir up a corn cake, and woliop half a
dozen cats that don’t mind me a bit, by noon
I’m not cool.
And the hot tea that I will drink just caps the
climax. Then I think to-morrow I will set even
the men folks down to light bread, cool salad
cold tea, milk, and vegetables cooked over the
breakfast fire, but would my paternal parent
like that? lam not sure.
It s no use to plan and tell what vou mean to
do, the wrong thing is always turning up, it is,
The other day as I was down cellar I looked
with pride at the rows of grape, sweet pickles
jelly, preserves, jam, ditto of apple, peach, pear!
quince and plum in clear glass cans.
Hard work, heated brows, prudent outlay of
money, and plenty of self-denial was stored
away in those glass cans.
Ab, I thought, how nice ’twill be to have for
Winter’s use. No matter if company comes un
aware, I can be ready tor them. What a mana
ger I am, to be sure. There is no use of one
being in a mass, if one only manages—man
ages, mind you. Bnt oh, alas! while I stood
there the shelf gave way, down on the cement
cellar floor was a mass ot jelly, preserves
canned fruits, chow-chow and broken glass. ’
Oh, dear, alas for the management that placed
too many jars upon that shelf.
1 dared not attempt to rescue one small
toothsome morsel, because of the broken glass!
All lost—sugar, time, labor and—our good
jine iu testing their excellence.
But I yielded nort to rage, though two big
tears did roll down dirty cheeks, and others
splashed upon the cellar floor.
What a forlorn heap b’at there looking upon
the ruins.
Keep cool, keep cool, my thought, and
with great difficulty I practiced my preaching.
With slow and sedate step instead of a hop,
skip and jump, I made my way to the bouse,
and attempted to-greet the family with a smile,
but oh, good folks, ’twas a tremendous effort,
that cheerfulness was - hard to assume.
Ah, well ’tis aH past, that little episode. i
kept cool that time,, ana thought I had gained a
remarkable victory, tho’ it seems smali enough
now.
DE SHERMAN CLERK.
how he was anxiously
SOUGHT FOR.
(From the Philadelphia News.)
The druggist knew a thing or two about busi
ness, so he put a sign in hie window in large
German letters, “German spoken here,” and
the very first hour it was up in walked a puff
ing, perspiring Teuton.
“ Ich will say—hen der mon vot sprecken
Sherman?”
The head clerk closed one eye to the assist
ant, the proprietor grinned, and the boy pur
loined a dozen marshmallow drops as he an
swered : “ The German clerk has just gone out
to dinner with the French, Spanish, Chinese
and Turkish clerks. Anything I can do for
you ?”
“ Vot time he kommen back mit dot dinner,
aintit?’’
“He won’t be back for an hour. Anything I
can do for you?”
“Ich will say—hen der mon vot' sprecken
Sherman—lch vaiten.”
He waited an hour and a half.
“Dot mon vot sprecken Sherman bully goot
eater, aint it?”
The assistant then told him that the German
clerk had sent word that his aunt was sick and
that he wouldn’t be back before 4 o’clock. At 4
o’clock the German returned.
“Ich vill say--hen dot mon vot sprecken
Sherman ?”
Then the proprietor asked him if it way any
thing important.
“Vot is dot—dot imbordent ?”
The proprietor, chief clerk and assistant tried
to explain, and a man who came in for a Seidlitz
powder chipped in, yelling at the top of his
voice, and a little girl for rhubarb said she knew
a man down the street that could speak Ger
man, but the Teuton only shook his head.
“Ich vill say—hen dot mon vot sprecken
Sherman ?”
They then told him that the German clerk
would not be back before 12 o’clock at night.
At 12 there was a furious ring at the bell. The
proprietor fell down stairs and the head clerk
kicked over an arnica bottle on his way through
the store, both reaching the door at the same
time.
“Ich vill say—bender mon vot sprecken Sher
man ?”
Then the proprietor seized an iron pestle,
grabbed the Teuton by the throat and shrieked:
“You double-dyed, infernal ‘ich vill say her,
tell me what you want, or, by the holy smoke,
I’ll brain you 1” , a ,
“Ich vill habben der mon vot sprecken Sher
man to rite me a hostel card to mine brudder
vot vos in Milwaukee.”
Then they foil upon him and smote him full
sore. The next day they took in the sign, and
the clock in the village boomed 2.
IIE receiptedthe' bill.
BUT WHERE DID THE GAS COM
PANY COME IN ?
(From the St. Paul Herald.)
Mr. Curry Komba, the acute and astute col
lector of the gaa company, atrolled into the office
yesterday, laughing as if his riba had been
tickled with a horse-radish grater.
“ Oh, you should have been with me down at
old Solomon Levi’s just now,” he gasped, as he
aank exhausted into a chair.
“ Why, what’a the mstter with old Solomon ?”
inquired the obituary editor, as ha leaned back
and clasped hia hands around the back of bia
neck.
“ Oh, it’s altogther too rich,” responded Mr.
Komba, when he had recovered his breath.
“You see, I had a gas bill to collect amounting
to thirty dollars, and when I presented it the
old galoot said, ‘All right, Mr. Gomps,’ and,
going to the safe, he brought out a hundred
dollar bill and stuck it at me, saying, ‘ Maybe
you can shange dot bill, Mr. Gomps.’ I looked
at the bill, and saw at once that it was a coun
terfeit. I was going to lamm the old son of a
gun, but an idea struck me like a pile-driver.
I had a lot of bogus coin in my pocket that I
had been stuck on a day or two before, and so I
just receipted his bill and took his SIOO note,
and gave him the change in counterfeit coin.
Oh, oh, ho, he, he, he 1” yelled Mr. Kombs, as
he fairly rolled on the floor in the excess of his
merriment, “ how the old sucker will kick when
he tumbles to the sell.”
“ Well r” said the obituary editor.
“Well,” said Mr.. Kombs, “don’t you see
how I played it on him ? You are about as thick
headed as old Levi, it strikes me.”
“ You say you gave him counterfeit money in
change?” said the obituary editor.
“ Yes, that’s where I got ahead of him,” re
sponded Mr. Kombs.
“ And you took his counterfeit money ?” said
the obituary editor.
“ Why, certainly, and gave him the same kind
of change”’ Mr. Kombs replied.
“ And you say that you gave him a receipt in
full?” persisted the obituary editor.
“Why, of course, what’s tho matter with you
any way,” said Mr. Kombs, with a shade of' ir
ritation in his voice, “didn’t I do him up slick ?”
“ Well, perhaps that’s a good way of doing
business,” said the obituary editor, “but I must
admit that I’m a little puzzled to see how the
gas company got its bill paid in the deal. How
ever, you slick collectors are a little above the
comprehension of an ordinary newspaper man.”
Mr. Kombs slowly arose from his seat with a
dazed expression upon his countenance. “Well,
by the shades of Jack Chiun,” he ejaculated,
“ I never thought of that. There’s another S3O
gone out of my salary, and I thought I was just
too smart to live.” And he wended bis way
sadly and pensively down stairs.
morthwF
LITTLE THINGS, BUT NOT UNIM
PORTANT.
That a bag ol hot sand relieves neuralgia.
That warm borax water will remove dand
ruff.
That salt should be eaten with nuts to aid di
gestion.
That milk which stands too long makes bit
ter butter.
That rusty flatirons should be rubbed over
with beeswax and lard.
That it rests with you, in sewing, to change
your position frequently.
That a hot, strong lemonade, taken at bed
time, will break up a bad cold.
That tough meat is made tender by lying a
few minutes in vinegar water.
That a little soda water will relieve eick
headache caused by indigestion.
That a cup of strong coffee will remove the
odor of onions from the breath.
That a cup of hot water drank before meals
will prevent nausea and dyspepsia.
That well-ventilated bed-rooms will prevent
. morning headaches and lassitude.
That consumptive night sweats may be ar
rested by sponging the body nightly in salt
water.
That one in a faint should be laid flat on his
back, then loosen his clothes and let him
alone.
That a fever patient can be made cool and
comfortable by frequent sponging off with soda
water.
' That cold tea should be saved for your vine
gar B sours easily and gives color and
Savor.
That to beat the whites Of eggs quick'y, add
a pinch ot salt. Salt cools, and cold eggs froth
rapidly.
That the hair may be kept from tailing out
after illness by a frequent application to the
scalp ot sage tea.
That you can take out spote from wash goods
by rubbing them with the yolk of egg before
washing.
That white spots upon varnished furniture
will disappear if you hold a hot plate irons the
Stove over them.
Tflf GrSToF yße.
RECOLLECTIONS OF WEBSTER
AND CALHOUN.
(From the Washington Post.)
“ I entered the State Department as a mes
senger in 1835, when Andrew Jackson was Pres
ident of the United States,” said William P.
Faherty, of this city, to a Post reporter yester
day, “and I have remained there ever since.'’
Mr. Faherty celebrates to-day his eighty-second
birthday. He is a native ot Baltimore, where,
as a boy, he helped to dig trenches during the
war with England in 1812, but has been a resi
dent of Washington sixty-six years. At eighty
two he stands as straight as the Washington
Monument, and his character is as-upright as
his figure. His eyesight is undimmed, and a
detect in his hearing is the only evidence ol his
advanced age.
When Daniel Webster became Secretary of
State (said Mr. Faherty) he sent a messenger
to me to tell me that I was too tall for him, and
that there was a man ready to take my place.
This is my first recollection of Mr. Webster; but
it did not turn out so badly after all, for he
found a place for the other man without remov
ing me.”
“What were Mr. Webster’s peculiarities?”
“I remember him particularly as often bor
rowing small sums of money from, me, which
sometimes he repaid and sometimes he forgot.
Calhoun afterward followed Webster’s
used frequently to borrow small sums of mon
ey from myself and others, but, unlike Webster
Calhoun never failed to pay up. I recall an
stance of Secretary Calhoun stopping his car
riage on the way to a conference at the Presi
dent’s house to pay fifty cents which he had
borrowed the day Before to give an old beggar
woman. Webster was no teetotaler, but he
knew that I was, and I have a vivid recollection
of one night, about forty years ago, when Web
ster, after delivering an eloquent speech in the
Odd Fellows’ Hall in favor of Irish independ
ence, came up to me and, slapping me on the
back, cordially invited me to his house and
drink some water with him.”
A three-minute geyser.
AND AN ASTONISHED LADY.
(From the Portland Oregonian.)
Hewing travelers has always been a favorite
amuseafient with some people who have been !
connected with our transportation lines. There .
was Geerge Knaggs, President of the Celilo .
Lying Club, who had invented more ingenious i
stories tha» can be remembered, bat who has j
now turned a respectable and honored citizen
of The Dalles. How many have looked with i
delight on the immense orchards (of oafc grubs;
he has pointed to them along tho hills of Wasco
county.
But there has arisen a greater than Kcoggs,
one who can lie in half a dozen languages.
Lately coming up from Astoria, the passengers
heard a loud, roarmg noise on the south side of
the river, and looking in the direction ot tho
sound, saw a large column of water rise toa ‘
great bight in the air. An excited lady, who
inquired the moaning of this phenomenon, was
told by the polyglot liar above mentioned that
there was a geyser over there in the woods. i
“But,” said the iady, “I was along hero a i
year ago and I heard no mention of geysers.”
“Oh,” was the reply, “it has only lately bro- 1
ken out. It spouts every three minutes after '
the great roaring. If you will watch you will
soon see it again.”
Sure enough in a moment a loud and pro
longed roar was heard, and then a huge column
of water flashed in the sun far above the inter
vening trees. The lady was convinced and was
also delighted to have seen this wonder of na
ture.
As the Oregonian does not wish the lowa edi
tors to be deceived by this romancer, it will
“ give away the snap.” Capt. Ankeny has a
long timber slide down the side of the moun
tain on thq Prairie channel. It is lined with
railroad iron, and the logs in descending it
make a great noise, and when the logs strike
the water they punch out a column the full size
ot the log, just as the pith is punched out of an
elder, and shove it up in the air to a great
bight. As the logs follow each other down the
chute at short intervals the appearance of a
spouting geyser is presented to travelers along
the main channel of the river.
curesjoFcoSs.
THE RECOMMENDATIONS OF A
SCIENTIFIC JOURNAL.
According to the London Chemist and Drug
gist, salicylic plaster has recently been put
upon the English market as a cure for corns,
bunions and thickened skins generally. The
price is reasonable enough, but some may pre
fer to make it for themselves. Dissolve two
drams each of salicyclic acid and yellow resin
in six drachms of sulphuric ether and paint the
solution over belladonna or opium plaster
spread on swan s down. The pigment dries
almost instantaneously, and the plaster is then
ready for cutting up into suitable sizes for
corns. Considering that the whole does not
cost more than three or four shillings per yard,
and that several plasters may be made out of
that quantity,, it is evident that, by retailing at
two or three a penny, a profit will be made
such as would be envied, even in Regent street.
Some corns are so painful that neither paint
nor plaster can be endured, something ot the
nature of a shield aloue giving relief. For such
cases as these the following wrinkle may be ap
preciated: Take a corn-shield, enlarge the ai
ameter ot the hole to a small extent by means
of a knife or scissors, and apply in the usual
way. Then place m the hollow thus formed
over the corn a small quantity of any of the
following solutions: Salicyclic acid and extract
cannabis indica dissolved in ether; or, extract
cannabis indica, one half drachm, dissolved in
two drams of liquor potass®; or, a saturated
solution of iodine, or iodide of potash, in strong
alcohol. The shield does the double service of
taking the pressure of the boot off the corn and
at the same time preventing the liquid being
rubbed off by the sock, while all of these solu
tions penetrate the skin much more rapidly
than the usual collodion preparation, and are
consequently much more effective in their op
eration.
The saturated solution of iodine often suc
ceeds in removing corns and indurated eper
dermis when other remedies have failed, and
the well-known solvent action of liquor potass®
is a sufficient credential to induce for it at
least a trial.
PAIDIn STAMPS.
A BAR-ROOM TRANSACTION THAT
MADE A NOISE.
(From the Chicago Hews.)
They wore Winter clothes, and about their
eyeballs and noses there was the sanguinary
color of the radish when it is ripest. The
smirking affability of the Clark street bartender
dissolved as they entered, and in its stead there
came a sickening glare of forced civility. “What
will it be, gentlemen ?’’ he asked through sheer
force of habit, as they ambled up to the bar.
“ Whisky for me,” said one, glancing up at the
ceiling cross-eyed.
“ Me, too,” supplemented the other.
Two suicidal potions of amber alcohol disap
peared and two pairs of lips smacked ecstatic
ally.
“ You will excuse me, sir,” said one, delving
an index finger into a torn vest posket; “but
I’m a little short ol change this morning and if
you have no objections, I will pay you tor those
in stamps.”
“Stamps are as good as money,” rejoined the
bartender, “just as good.”
“ Thank you, old fel,” chorused the pair.
And then they stamped on the floor until the
bottles and glasses behind tho bar rattled and
jingled, winked at a fat man who was gagging
himself with frozen absinthe, and stole softly
into the crisp, morning air.
MIII 111 —iTHlWl——aa—
Here is & choice specimen of
THE SLANG USED BY BAD MEN.
“ Soy, podner, I want ter get a mug pinched,”
said a man with a black eye this morning in the po
lice court clerk’s office.
"Want what ?” asked tho clerk.
"Wanter get a mug pinched.”
"What kind of a mug? What do you want it
for?”
"Why, fur nipping some stuff. He collared a
couple of cases from me,” said the tough.
" I don’t see what I’ve got to do with him. What
• kind of cases ? Are you a lawyer ?”
"Naw, I ain’t. Can’t you tumble to me racket?
You see, dis bloke, Jimmy Kelly, was a tendin’ bar
in me joint an' he’s bin knockin’ down ”
, " You ought to get a warrant for assault and bat-
tery, then. Did he hit you ?” asked the bewildered
clerk.
1 "Ah. rats! Soy, he didn’t slug me. He was dip
pin’ his elaws into my boodle. Bin blowin’ my
rocks agin the tiger.”
" Throwing rocks at a tiger ? Where ? Out at the
, Zoological Garden, I suppose ?” inquired the now
thoroughly dazed clerk as he leaned over the desk.
"Soy, yure de prize chump I” disgustedly an
swered the bad man. " Where wuz youejikated?
Can’t you see dat I want ter get dis mug pulled for
bilking me ?”
" Say, my friend, I don’t want any more foolish
ness,” hotly answered the clerk. " You can tell me
what you want or get out.”
"I ain’t monkeyin’, podner, on the dead square.
I wan ter have that crook jugged. Sposin’ you wuz
gettin’ your leg pulled by a out and out crook, what
would you do but get him nabbed ”
He picked the grass out of his ears and mouth,
straightened out his hat, and after pulling out a
couple of teeth remarked to the policeman who had
picked him up:
"Dis ain’t right, my friend, dey’ve got a crazy
mug in dere, who, bekase he couldn’t tumble to my
chatter when I wanted to get a paper to have a crook
whose a-bin bitin’ into my role pinched, fired me
out de windy into de park here.”
These two lovers settled their quarrel in a
more pleasant and generally satisfactory way
than by resorting to a breach of promise suit.
It was
A VERY NEAT SETTLEMENT.
They had been to the circus, where they indulged
in seanuts and lemonade. Then they went to have
some ice cream. She was very tired, and
to quarrel with
" How, is this the end ?” he asked.
“ It is, and I shall neyer speak to you again ”
“ AnJ last Sunday you said that you lored me.”
I did then; I.don’t now.”
" Well, who’s to pay for all the ice cream ?”
" You horrid miser! You pay, and then you may
send me a bill, and if I owe you any thing I’ll pay
up.”
He paid and left. The next day she received an
itemized statement:
Miss Evelyn Jackson
To Moses Faithful Brown, Dr.
To—2o carriage rides S6O qo
30 oyster stews 7 50
25 dinners at church 25 00
30 theatre tickets 45 00
One suit of clothes 50 00
SO shaves and shines 20 00
250 promises not kept 2 50
One breaking my heart 1,500 00
Raising hopes 5,000 00
Sending me off last night 25
$6,710 25
Cr.
By—Quenching hopes 50
Three evenings with the other man... 3 00
Three healing blighted affection 1 50
First kiss 4,000 00
Kisses and sundries . 2,700 00
Loveletters ‘ 400
$6,710 00
Balance due 25
Will call to-morrow night and collect.
When he called she said: "Come into the parlor,
Moses, and I ll pay you.”
A minute later she contracted new debts entered
as sundries, and half an hour later they ate ice
cream together and made plans for the future.
No cards.
In this heated term, when men are perspiring
reely and taking lager copiously, it is refresh
ing to read
A WINTER’S TALE.
Several traveling men were sitting around a stove
in an Indiana hotel one of those cold nights last
Winter, telling shivering stories.
"I don’t believe I ever felt it much colder than
this,” said one man who had been doing the South.
"Pshaw, this is nothing,” said a Chicago man
who had been doing the Northwest.
" Ain’t it?” inquired the Southern na s meekly.
«• I thought it was.”
“ That’s where you’re off, Why, man, I’ve seem
it so cold out on tho Northern Pacific, that when a
naan talked his worda froze and fell all around him
like a spelling-book hit by a cyclone, and when ho
swore you could pick up enough sulphur to etart a
brimstone factory with.
*' Aw, come off I" shouted the crowd.
"Woll. 1 won’t,” said the Chicago man. "I'm no
liar if Ido travel out of Chicago. Why, only last
week I thought I'd go out on a little hunt up in
that country, and in some way I lost my shot
pouch, and hadn’t anything but powder and wad.
I had loaded my gun, and just at that tlnft I saw a
deer coming slowly toward me. A sudden thought
struck me. I grabbed a black bottle out of my
pocket, poured the contents down the gun-barrel,
waited a minute, blazed away, and, gentlemen, as
sure as I’m a Christian, I shot an icicle, thirty
inches long, clear through that deer, and ”
"Don’t say any more,” interrupted the Southern
man, "I’ll bet a hundred to one you had Chicago
whisky in that bottle.”
The Chicago man looked dazed for a minute, and
then asked the clerk to show him to his room and
not wake him till a thaw had set in.
A correspond eat tells thia story of
HARMLESS LEMONADE.
A Gersaan gentleman was once given, at a parish
social occasion, the task of preparing a paillull ot
lemonade to assuage the thirst of tho party. I no
ticed that the lemonade had a pungent flavor, and
that some of the old chaps of the parish seemed to
be making decidedly merry over it. I suspected r
stick in it—l believe that is what you call aa infu
sion of rum in a beverage of that sort—and I called
the German to account. But he thrust up his
shoulders, put on an injured expression, and de
clared :
"Oh, I assure you, Mr. , dare is nothing harm-
less in dot lemonade!"
SCINTILLATIONS.
It is useless to try the- mind cure on a
dude.
“Bonnets are now trimmed with asses’
ears,” says a fashion journal. So are dudes.—
ton Post.
In walking, the weaker ot two per
sons takes the arm of the stronger. This is why
dudes always take young ladies’ arms.
“ That Terrible Man” is the title of a
current story. We all know him.- He is the fathro
of the boy with a drum. He lives next door.
Bank directors are supposed to know
what the clicks of the bank do. Clerks know what
the directors do, but they would not like to tell.
A young man in Boston who inherited.
$280,000 got away with it in three years’ time> and
he never had an extra pair of suspenders at that.
Some people think it very funny to
laugh at a policeman, but we have passed through
the city several times late at night and seen noth
ing to laugh at.
“ Graduation shoes” are advertised.
Evidently a misprint for "graduation shes,” which
really is an improvement oik the stereotyped
"sweet girl graduates.”
Little Annie was found one Sunday
morning busily crocheting. "Annie, dear, it
Sunday,” said her mamma. "Did you forget?"
"Oh. no, mamma,” she replied; "I knew it was
Sunday, but I am playing that I am a little Jew.”
Early in the season as it is, the report
is out that the dreaded ice-bug has made its appear*
ance, and is eating up vast quantities of the ice thafc
has been stored away. Thus it seems that in spite
of the cold weather ice will be as dear as ever this
Summer.
He had fallen into the stream, and had
already sunk orree and was going down a second
time, when a brave man leaped into tlm angry wa
ters and laid hold of the unfortunate one. The lat
ter looked at his rescuer in a beseeching manner
and gasped, " I beg, my dear sir, that you will per
mit me to sink once more—in the interest of litera
ry tradition, you know. No person I ever read of
was ever rescued until he was going down for th®
third time. I may die, but I shall have the satis
faction of knowing that I have not departed from a
time-honored and revered custom.”
The fashionable Mrs. Follibud is in»
troduced to the popular Jack Follibud. Mrs. Folli
bud—" Charmed to meet you. I think we must bo
related in some way, as our names are the sama."
Jack—" Why, ya-as, so we must. Who was yonr
father, aw?" "Why, General Moneybags, of Bos
ton.” "By Jove! He was my grandfather I"
"And you are Jack Follibud? Why, then, you
must be my son. Your nurse, Maggie, said you’d
grown to be quite a man. Well, well; but Jack (ia
a whisper) don’t tell I'm your mother. Say sister
in-law or cousin. Anything but mother."
“I remember,” said a Detroit boy to his
Sunday School teacher, "you told me always to count
fifty when angry.” " Yes ? Well, I’m glad to hear
it. It cooled your anger, didn’t it ?" "You see, a
boy came into our alley and made faces at me and
dared me to fight. I was going with him. He was
bigger'n me and I’d have got pulverized. I remem
bered what you said (and began to count.” "And
you didn't fight ?” "No ma’am. Just as I got to
forty-two my big brother came along, and the way
he licked that boy would have made your mouth
water. I was going to count fifty and then run.”
Once on a time an Honest Huckster
Sold Several hundred boxes of Strawberries to hi»
Customers up and down the Streets of the City, and
when the next day was come they Approached him
angrily, saying : "Why is it, Mr. Huckster, that you
have sold unto us Divers and Sundry boxes of
Strawberries in which the Bottom is so near the Top
that the Lid bulges up in the Middle? We have
bought these Boxes of Berries as Holding a Quart
each, but they do not do so. How is it thus ?" "Go
to,” he said, in reply. "I am amazed. I am an
Honest Huckster. The Strawberries 1 raised my
self, and know them to be the best in the Market.
As to the Boxes, they were made by my Brother in
Chicago, and it is not meet that I should be Abused
for his sin. Go after him if you have a Grievance,
and don’t bother me.” Moral—Raise your own
strawberries.
THE GBEAT
CALIFORNIA INSECT POWDER.
• ir-i A Pure California Pro-
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: The most powerful exler-
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IHSECTDCreRMINMOR “-“aZ
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BUHACH—"The best Roach and Bug Exterminator
t ever used. I can truly recommend it.”— F. S. Brockway,
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> BUHACH—" We have used your Buhach powder on our
, most troublesome and impervious insects, such as ants,
etc., and have found it superior to anything of the kind
we have ever used.”—it A <t* McNeil.
Ask vour Druggist or Grocer lor it, and take no other,
I for " Buhach” is the beet.
"Bubach” is sold only in cans covered by our Trads
Mark like above. Every can is guaranteed. Try it, and
ybU will use no other.
BUHACH PRODUCING AND M’F’G CO.,
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Cancer of Tongue!
I *- — -
A Case Resembling that of Gen. Grante
( Some ten years ago I had a scrofulous sore on my right
hand which gave me great trouble, and under the*old
tlme treatment was healed up, and I supposed I was well.
; I found, however, it had only been driven into the syg-
• tem by the use of potash and mercury, and in March,
1882, it broke out in my throat, and concentrated in what
some of the doctors denominated cancer. I was placed
under treatment for this disease. Some six or seven of
the best physicians in the country had me at different
times under their charge, among them three specialists
in this line; but one after another would exhaust their
■ skill and drop me, for I grew worse continually. The
cancer had eaten through my cheek, destroying the roof
of my mouth and upper lip, then attacked my tongue,
• palate and lower lip, destroying the palate and under lip
’ entirely and half my tongue, eating out to the top of my
left cheek bone and upto the left eye. From a hearty,
robust woman of 150 pounds, I was reduced to a mere
frame of skin and bones, almost unable to turn myself
bed. I could not eat any solid food, but
liquids, and my t&fcgae was so iar goaa ' ' - cU 00
; The anguish or tod and the V' OTrll)1<) su ‘
which I ewrlenced hirer can be revealed. Given up bv
physicians to die, with no hope ol' recovery upon the pert
ol fnends who sat around my bedside expecting every
mo.. t 0 be “? last; in fact ’ my husband would niace
his hand on n‘r’Very now and7hen folee whetiier~l war
alive or not, and at time all decided that life was ex
tinct, and my death reported ail over the country.
Such was my wretched and helpless condition the first
of last October (1884), when my friends commenced giv
ing me Swift’s Specific. In less than a month the eating
places stopped and healing commenced, and the fearful
aperture in my cheek has been closed and firmly knitted
together. A process of a new under lip is progressing
finely, and the tongue, which was almost destroyed, is
being recovered, and it seems that nature is supplying a
new tongue. I can taJk so that my friends can readily
understand me, and can eat solid food again. lam able
to walk about wherever I please without the assistance
of any one, and have gained fifty yoandsof flesh. All
this, under the blessing of a mercifully Heaveffly Father,
is due te Swift's Specific. lam a wonder and a marvel to
all my friends, hundreds of whom have known my in
tense sufferings, and have visited me in my afflictions
While I am not entirely well, yet my gratitude is none
the less devout, and I am confident that a perfect recov
ery is now in sight. If any doubt the ?e facts, I would re
ler them to Hon. John H. Traylor, State Senator of this
district, who is my neighbor; Dr. T. S. Bradfield, of La-
Grange. Go., or to any other persons living in the south
ern part of Trcupe county, Ga.
MRS. MARY L. COMER.
LaGrange. Ga., May 14, 1885.
Sold by all druggists.
Treatise on Blood and Skin Diseases mailed free
The Swift Specific Co., Drawer 3, Atlanta, Ga., New
Yrok, No. 157 W. 23d st. » , c v
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Vi a vuivuv Nervous Debility Pills, sl. In-H
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New England Medical Institute,
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IM! Hl those suffering from the
M S 83P B B | effe( ? t 8 , of youthful errors.
V B D W W Ewseminal weakness, early de
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bead your
7