Wood County reporter. [volume], January 08, 1859, Image 1

About Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923

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VOL. II.—NO. 2.
For the Reporter.
Margery.
Sr UINRY 3. LEE.
Day in golden glory dying.
Music-winds lino’ low wood" sighing,
Beauty-flakes on down-wings flying;
All speak f the*,
Dear Margery.
The Lake-harp’s will and cheerless moan,
Tho autumn leaves around me strewn,
Bummer splendors withered and flown,
Alt speak of thee,
Bweet Margery.
Heavenly watch star-eyes keeping,
In moonlight beauty landscape sleeping,
Memory-tears, sad heart weeping,
Ail speak of thee,
Bright Margery.
Nature-beauty’s departed bloom, —
Shadowy darkness of soul-gloom—
Enshrouded hopes—devotion’s tomb —
All speak of thee,
Lest Margery.
Faith’s heart-lesson trustful learning—
Hope-light, pure and holy burning—-
Spirit thine, to earth returning—
Lead me to thee,
A"ge 1 M a rgery.
December 28th, ISSB.
Tho two Sabbath Reapers.
“George, what book bave you there?”
*“ One of D'Aubigne’s, father.”
“ Put it up, niy son, and take the
Bible; to-day is the Sabbath.”
“O, but father, this is so good ! It
tells about the reformation, and chiis
lians, and persecution*;—and 1 urn so
much Interested in it.”
“ Put it up, my son ; it is God’s holy
dav. Take your Bible or your hymn
book, or else sit still and think. It is
distracting to the mind to read such
things.”
“ < >, father, 1 —”
“ Mind mo, sir T
There was no appeal from this stern
ly spoken comm.uni, so George, with
hasty step. Hushed face, and an angry
heart, put up his favorite volume, but
be wouldn't take the Bible. Instead,
he hurried to a sofa in a distant {'art of
the room, and throw himself upon it,
nlb n. and thinking ungenorous things
id iiia father. “He don't care any
thing about reading," lie said mentally,
but passionate! l , ; “he never read his
tory, and don’t know how good it is. or
how much one learns. I think it hate
ful of his to make me sit here dull and
stupid—that I do—and I won't read
the Bible, for lie never explains it to
me. O dear, I wish I could go to
sleep.”
Mr. Alien had looked around once to
see if his son was obebig him, and re
marking “Do not leave that place, sir,”
ho threw his handkerchief over his face,
and again slept.
it was a warm summers dav. The
windows were all open, and through
two of them the arbor in the gsrden
looked very cool and inviting. “If I
hud gone out there with my book,"
grumbled the boy, “he never would
have seen me, and I know it's no hurt
to read D’Aubigne. I mean to ask the
minister.”
Just then there was a groat ncise; in
came little Archy with the kitten and
a paste-board box. Kitty Mas in great
glee, so was Archv. The noise awoke
Mr. Allen.
“ What is that ?” lie said sternly.
“Ale and kit, father; see, kit is rid
ing me to church ; get up, you cat!”
and otf they went.
“Stop that, you wicked boy! unbar-I
ness that cat, or I shall whip you se
verely, sir. O, the inhuman wicked
ness of children,’’ he cried, groaning
to honself, “they hate goodness. I
can't make them comprehend that it is 1
the Lord’s day, as I see.'’
A sweet voice was heard singing in
the next room, and softly the words I
floated on the air—“He doelh all things
well.”
“Kate,” cried Mr. Alien.
A young girl appeared.
“ Kate, are you singing songs ?”
“ was singing ‘He doeth all things
well,’” she replied.
“That ain't the question; wasn't you
singing songs ?”
“ I believe, father, it is, though some-'
thing of a sacred song. I love it very
much.”
“Yes, the camel mind loves all such
things,” replied Mr. Aden, testily. “I
wish Kate, you would reserve your song
for the rest of the week. This is the
Lord s day, and you are not even to
think your own thoughts. Go sing *
‘ Broad is the road that leads to death”
I believe you are all in it. O dear !” ’
Catherine disappeared, but no sweet
sounds and tender sentiment, soothing
and hallowed, came from the other
room. All was silent, while George
said to himself, “How father does
grumble on the Sabbath. Seems to me
be lores to scold best on that day.”
Dcboied io Beedotif, flgrienlim-e, gcVqiioi?, ftetos, MoNWioi), % ?of VlsofO ifrotoiedge.
1 “ Wonder where Mary is?” thought
i George to himself. “ O dear, I am so
! tired.”
Mary alas ! was perched up in the
| hot garret, close to a pane of glass in
i the roof, reading a long hidden book,
I unwholesome as the damps of the char
-1 r.el house, and destructive oi all moral-
I . 7
ity.
“ Father, mayn’t I walk in the gar
d ii a minute?” asked George, hnrnbly.
liis father had just finished his nap,
and was moving to and fro, humming
a snatch from psalm tune.
“No; how often have I forbidden
you to ask me? Next thing you’ll be
wanting to go to the woods, and then
to the river with fishing lines and tackle.
I wish my children were like the Major’s
across the way. They are always eheer
. ful and pleasant on the Sabbath, and
1 seem to love the day.”
“ But sir, Mr. Major talks to them,
and he don’t—”
“ Silence, sir 1 no reflections; I am
| sorry to have such a disobedient boy;
I now go and get ready for church—the
i bells are ringing.”
i Glad to escape, George hurried awav
to his room, and Archy followed him
to show a ruined frock, the result of ac
tivity wrongly improved, to his poor
invalid mother.
Let us step across the road, and en
ter this pleasant household. The fam
ily are most of them in the sitting-room.
Elia Major is poring over a book which
she holds halt out of sight; Minnie sits
!at the piano, just touching tire keys
I softly ; Henry is lounging; the mother
' and father both occupied with a news-
I paper of the right kind.
Suddenly Mr. Major looks up, and
I notices the absorbed attention of his
| youngest daughter.
I “ Well, Ella, what interests you so
! much my dear ?”
The little girl blushed, but answered
| ingeniously, “O, it is Robinson Crusoe.
Sarah Carter lent It to mo yesterday,
; and it is so beautiful!”
| “ Yes, dear, a very pleasant and en
tertaining book; still, perhaps my
I daughter could read some thing better
! and with more profit, today.”
“The child looked earnestly towards
him and smiled.
“If you think best, father, I will read
i something else.”
“1 do think as this day was set apart
; for the worship of God, your little Bible
: might be profitably studied.”
“Will you explain it to me, father?”
i “Yes, dear.”
I Ella laid aside her book gently, and
with little seeming regret applied her
self to her Bible, sure of her father’s
sympathy and assistance, should she
| need it.
“ itenry, my son, you arc very rest
less-^
“ \ os, father, I am thoroughly tired
of doing nothing. Mv head aches if I
i read.” '
“ Weil, my son, you had belter walk
I a little way. Take the back road down
| to the river, and when you return, tell
j us how many evidences of God’s good
ness you have seen. Yon need a little
exercise and you have been a good bov
: to-day. Minnie, child, why don’t you
i play something and sing? I should
; like very much to hear ‘Mary at the
Saviour’s tomb.’ The little 'girl, de- i
lighted that he requested the music,
sang the sacred song very sweetly, and
the rest listened with approving silence.
“ Now that other favorite of mine—
‘ Tie doeth all things well’—that is a
most beautiful melodv,”
So soothingly the music fell upon the
air at the close of the calm Sabbath
day, it seemed as it ths angels were
listening too. Mr. Major, said softlv, i
smiling upon his wife, ‘Thank God*”
Hir eyes were tilled with happy tears, i
It was not six months since one of their |
little ones had gone home, and this song !
touched then hearts witn the tenderest j
emotions. All was silent again, when I
a loud peal of laughter was heard in |
the back part of the house. In another 1
moment in come Ally, dressed up in his I
father’s morning gown, and a pair of;
spectacles on his nose.
“My dear, said Mr. Major, gravely, ■
—that was all—nobody smiled. The ’
little one looked up iu great confusion
—and ran, head down, toward his fath
er’s open arms.
“ I think we can do something bet
ter than dress up in that ridiculous
fashion to-day, dont you Ally?” asked
Mr. Major.
“Yes, sir,” the little fellow said, in a
subdued voice, still nestling his curlv
head in his father’s arms, In a quiet,
soothing voice, the father told the story
oflittlc Samuel, illustrating in its cours*e
the sweet obedience of the holy child
and above ail his regard for God and
his appointed ordinances Qh ? this
GRAND RAPIDS, WISCONSIN.—SATURDAY, JANUARY 8, 1859.
was better than rebuke, and the boy,
young as he was felt it; and learning a
lesson he would not soon forget.
The bells were ringing—Henry had
returned looking fresh and glowing. —
The girls were all prepared for meet
ing.
“Well, my children, have you passed
a pleasant Sabbath ?” asked the father.
Beaming eyes and ready lips answer
ed.
Married Persons Don’t do Such
Things.— A trial, involving matters of
a delicate character, in which it was
deemed necessary to establish the na
ture of an intimacy between the de
fendant, a married man, and a young
woman, took place, a aay or two ago,
before Justice Hauselman. Among
1 other evidence offered, a witness, a
daughter of Eve of course, stated that
she had observed the pair sitting so
very close together that she “could not
see the daylight between them” (graph
ic description that!) that he had Ids
arm about her waist, and though her
head was turned away, he frequently
stooped down and kissed her lips, and
she returned Ids caresses ardently.
“You say you did not see the lady’s
face, Miss ?” queried one of the
counsel. “How then do you know that
the woman the defendant embraced
was not his wife?”
“His wife—pshaw! Do you think I
haven't sense?' ’
“Whether nature has or has not pro
vided you with the average amount of
brains madam, is not the question,” re
marked the attorney, pompously'.—
“Please answer the one I ask.”
“Are you in earnest, sir?”
“Of course I am, madam!”
“Well then, sir, you don’t know
much. I know they' wern’t husband
and wife when I saw them kissing each
other, for hubauds and wives don’t do
such things.”— Cin. Enquirer.
Irish Wit. —Here is a specimen of
Emerald wit that isn’t so bad. On the
Cambridge Bridge there was a toll of
one cent (now abolished.) Two Irish
men appeared from Boston rather di
lapidated at appearance and having
“nary red” with which to pass the gate.
A passer by, on solicitation gave one
of them a penny; but how should this
avail to get them both over? After
“laying their heads together,” one of
them approached the toll keeper and
asked, “Sure an how much is it to go
over?” “A penny a piece,” was the
reply. “Arrah, now, and may I carry
a bundle on my back?”
“As much as you please,” said the
tollman.
Pat very deliberately stepped back,
and taking Mike on his shoulders, walk
ed up boldly, and depositing his penny
marched on with his burden to about
tiie middle of the bridge, when they
changed places, and Mike toted Pat
over to the Cambridge side. The pen
ny saved was well earned, the bridge
being a long one.
E-W” Tom strikes Dick over the
shoulders with a rattan as big as your
little linger. A lawyer, in his indict
ment, would tell you the story as fol
lows: “And that, whereas, the said
Thomas, at the said place, on the year
and day aforesaid, in and upon the
body of the said Richard, against the
people of the State of Pennsylvania,
and their dignity, did made a violent
assault, and inflicted a great many and
divers blows, kicks, cuffs, thumps,
bumps, contusions, gashes, hurts and
wounds, damages and injuries, in and
upon the head, neck, breast, stomach,
hips, knees shins and heels of said
Richard, with divers sticks, canes,
poles, clubs, logs of wood, stones, dag
gers, dirks, swords, pistols, cutlasses,
bludgeons, blunderbusses and boarding
pikes, then and there held in the hands,
lists, elaws, and clutches of him, the
said Thomas.
A young lady had been receiv
ing the addresses of a rich farmer's
son near Dayton. The “parient” was
opposed to the match, and after the
wedding was come, and the guests as
sembled, prevailed on his son to “back
out,” writing the following letter of ex
planation :
to widder M
you can marra your purty dater to
some of the fellers as is allers running
arter her my John has concluded to
huld on he wont be tkar so go on with
your rat killin, no more furever
John S sen.
Another lover who was present offer
ed to take John’s place; and the lady,
with great promptness and propriety,
consented. A license was quickly pro
cured, and the suddenly accepted stood
up and were married!
Sleeping with the Landlord’s Wife.
A friend in Stockbridge, Mass., sends
ns the following anecdote of Rev. Zeb
Twitched, a Methodist clergyman in
full and regular standing, and a mem
ber of the Vermont Conference:
At one time he represented Stock
bridge in the State Legislature. Zeb,
says our informant, is a man of fair tal
ents both as a preacher and a musician.
In the pulpit he is grave, solemn, dig
nified ; a thorough systematic sennon
izer; but out of the pulpit there is no
man living who is more full of fun and
drollery. On one occasion he was
wending his way toward the seat of
the Annual Conference of Ministers, in
company with another clergyman.—
Passing a country inn, he remarked to
his companion:
“ The last time I stopped at that tav
ern I slept with the landlord’s wife.”
In utter amazement his clerical friend
wanted to know what he meant.
“ I mean just what 1 say,” replied
Zeb; and on went the two travelers in
unbroken silence, until they reached
the Conference. In the cady pari of
the session, the Conference sat with
doors closed for the purpose of trans
acting some private business, and es
pecially to attend to the annual exami
nation of each member’s private char
acter, or rather conduct during the past
year. For this purpose the clerk called
the roll, as was the custom, and in due
time Zeb's name was called.
<k Does any one know aught against
the conduct of brother Twitched dur
ing the past year ?” asked the Bishop,
who was the presiding officer.
After a moment’s silence, Zeb’s trav
eling companion arose up, and with a
heavy heart and grave countenance,
said he felt he had a duty to perform,
one that he owed to God, to the church,
and to himself. lie then related what
Zeh had told him while passing the
tavern, how he slept with the landlord’s
wife, etc.
r I he grave body of ministers was
struck as with a thunderbolt; although
a few smiled, and looked first at Zeb,
and then upon the Bishop, knowingly,
for they knew better than the others
the character of the accused,
. The Bishop called upon brother T.
asked him what he had to say in rela
tion to so serious a charge. Zob arose
and said:
“ I did the deed ! I never lie !”
Then pausing with an awtul serious
ness, he proceeded with slow and sol
emn deliberation :
There is one little circumstance,
however, connected with the affair, I
did not name to the brother. It may
not have much weight with the Confer
ence, but although it mav be deemed
of trifling importance, I will state it.—
When I slept with the landlord’s wife,
as I told the brother, I kept the tavern
myself i”
The long and troubled countenance
relaxed; a titter followed, and the next
name on the roll was called.
Repartee. —Coleridge was a re
markable awkward horseman, so much
so, as generally to attract attention.—
lie was one day riding on the turnpike
road in the county of Durham, when a
wag approaching him, noticed his pe
culiarity, and mistaking his man,
thought the rider a good subject for a
little sport, and as he drew near, he
accosted Mr, C. :—-
‘‘l say, you man, did you meet a
tailor on the road?”
‘‘Fes,” replied Mr. C.. who was nev
er at a loss for a rejoinder, “I did; and
he told if I went a little further, I should
meet a goose!”
The assailant was struck dumb, while
the traveler jogged on.
baby is a mother's anchor.—
She cannot swing far from her mooiv
ings. And yet, a true mother never
lives so little in the present as when by
the side of the cradle. Her thoughts
follow the imagined future of her child.
That babe is the boldest of pilots, and
guides her fearless thoughts down
through scenes of coming years. The
old ark never made such a voyage as
the cradle daily makes.
•fsV When Dr, Johnson courted
Miss Potter, whom he afterwards mar
ried, he told her “that he was of mean
extraction, that he had no monev, and
that an uncle of his had been hanged.”
The lady by way of reducing herself
to an equality with him, replied “that
she had no more money than himself,
and that though none of her relations
had ever been hanged, she had fifty
who deserved hanging.”
Dickens is said to b© making
£IO,OOO per annum, by £n readings.
Yes or No.
One long summer afternoon, thsre
came to Mr. Davidson’s the most cari
ous specimen of an old bachelor the
world ever heard of. He was old,
grey, wrinkled and odd. He hated
women, especially old maids, and wasn’t
afraid to say so. He and Aunt Patty
had it hot and heavy, whenever chance
threw them together; yet still he came,
and it was noticed that Aunt Patty
took unusual pains with her dress when
ever he was expected. One dav the
contest waged unusually strong; Aunt
Patty left him in disgust, and went out
into the garden.
“The bear:"’ she muttered to her
self, as she stopped to gather a blossom
which attracted her attention.
“What did you run away for?” said
a gruff voice, close to her side.
“To get rid of you.”
“You didn't do it, did you?”
“Xo; you are worse than a burdock
bur.”
“You won’t get rid of me neither.”
“1 won’t eh?”
“Only in one way.”
“And that?”
“Marry me I”
“What, ns two fools get married?—
W hat will people say?”
“That’s nothing to us. Come, say
yes or no, I’m in a hurry.”
“Well—no, then.”
“V cry well, good-bye. I shan't come
again.”
“Hut stop a bit; what a pucker to be
in,”
“Yes or no?”
“I must consult ”
“All right; I thought you was of
age. Good-bye.”
“Jabez Andrews, don’t be a fool.—
Come back, come back, I say. Why,
I believe the critter has taken me for
earnest. Jabez Andrews, I'll consid
er ”
“I don’t want no considering. I’m
gone—Becky Hastings is waiting for
me. I thought I’d give you the first
chance. All right. Good-bye.”
“Jabez Jabez! That stuck-up
Becky Hastings shan't kave him, if I
die for it. Jabez—yes. Do you hear?
Y-e-s!”
Story Coxtradicted.— “Burleigh,”
the Xew York correspondent of the
Boston Journal , who is understood to
be the Rev. Mathew Hale Smith, Mrs.
Cunningham’s counsel at one of
her cae, corrects a paragraph winch
we copied from the Rochester Union.
He states that Mrs. Cunningham lives
in Forty-eighth street.
She is not in “easy circumstances,”
but is reduced and poor. The “elegant
mansion” is a house in a block on the
new upper street, for which she is in
debted to the kindness of the owner
till spring. Her house is not entirely
furnished; the most of it not at all; and
what is, is of the commonest style.—
She has wasted all the property she
had, and is not able to take a house of
comfort. All the ordinary avenues of
employment open to most women are
closed against her. The prejudice
against this woman was never stronger
than now, and, having spent all she had
to defend herself in courts of law, she
is now very poor, and would keep a
boarding-house or do any honorable
thing to get a Hying if she could do so.
Her daughter Augusta has not been
“married to a southern planter,” but
to a young man in this city, who has
not one dollar to rely upon but what he
earns from day to day; and the rumor
about Helen is as apocryphal as the
rest of the story,
Fourth of .July in Japan. —The
1 celebration of the Fourth of July was
| Inaugurated in Japan, by the *XJ.
j steamer Mississippi. A letter describes
| the facts as follows;
“The glorious Fourth was a wet and
disagreeable day; however, we dressed
the ship in extra colors, and had the
band stationed on the hurricane deck
to perform our national airs. At twelve
o’clock our black dogs of liberty pour
ed their thunder in a salute of twentv
one guns, which made the surrounding
mountains and vales, ring as report af
ter report went forth, which put the
whole Japanese population in motion;
for when the smoke had cleared awav
we could distinctly see that the whole
town had come forth to witness our sal
ute in honor of the day that our fore- i
fathers declared themselves free from
the British yoke. To the Mississippi
belongs the credit of firing the first na
tional salute in this harbor in honor of
that glorious day.”
Connundrum.—lf it takes two lines
to make an angle, how many does it
take to make an angle worm
$1.50 A YEAR.
Fact, Fancy and Fun.
—Wanted by a Dutch gardener, a
journeyman cooper to head a cabbage.
—The man who was bent on matri
mony has been straightened out again.
Oh !
—The reason some people put on
airs is because they have nothing else
pul on.
—The fellow that attempted to cloak
his sins, found that be couldn' t begin
to get a garment largo enough.
—lt is the opinion of a western edit
or that wood goes further when left out
of doors than when well housed.
—“My boy, my boy! you do very
wrong to fish on Sunday I' 1 Boy. “It
can't be no harm, sir; I ain’t cotch’d
nothin.”
—We frequently see it stated that a
scheme is on foot. Wouldn't a scheme
be advanced faster if it could be got on
horse-back!
—Prentice says of an editor who
said he “smelt a Vat,” that if he did,
and the rat smelt him, the rat had the
worst of it.
—Two chaps in Georgia swapped
wives, the other day. One of them re
ceived two and a half bushels of pota
toes “to boot!”
—“Madame, you said your son was
a lawyer—has he much practice?”
“Why, yes, sir, he has a practice—
of smoking cigars.”
—A Dutchman's heart-rending solil
oquy is described thus; “She lofes
John Kickle so much pesser as I be
cause he’s cot kopple tollars more as I
has!”
—An emigrant to Oregon, writing
home to one of his friends, says: “We
are getting on finely here, and have al
ready laid the foundation of a large
jail.”
—The following notice, says the Sal
em Gazette may be seen on a Black
smith’s shop in the town of Essex: If o
horses shod on Sunday ’cept sickness
an deth!
—There is a town in Michigan where
the church bell is rung every dav at
twelve o’clock, for the people to take
their quinine, as they have the ague all
around.
—Spurgeon sometimes comes out
with a good thing. “Brethren,” says
he, if Gad had referred the Ark to a
committee on naval affairs, it’s my opin
ion it would not have been built yet:”
—Marriage resembles a pair of shears,
says Sydney Smith, so joined that they
cannot be separated, often moving in
opposite directions, yet always punish
ing any one who come between them.
—lt is now fully ascertained that
the man who ate the apple of discord
and picked the hone of contention, is
the indentical individual who was a
passenger on board the trajn of circum
stances.
—A green ‘an, who had never be
fore seen a steamboat, fell through the
hatchway down into the hold, and be
ing unhurt, thus loudly expressed hi
surprise—“ Well if the darned thing
ain’t holler.”
| —The marriage between Jonathan
and Miss Great Britain, which was so
brilliantly celebrated a few weeks
is evidently a very unhappy one. At
all events, no words have passed be
tween them since the bridal dav.
—“Xo one would take you to be
what you are,” said an old-fashioned
gentleman to a dandy who had more
hair than brains.
“Why?” was immediately asked.
“Because they can't see your ears I”
—A waiter at a fashionable hotel
the other day, requested a boarder, -if
ho needed his services, to “just agitate
the Previous to the
rapid march of intellect, “please to
ring the bell,” would have been the
phrase qsed.
—“John,” said a victimized hqg
hand, “how I wish it was as much the
fashion to trade wives as it is to trade
horses.”
“Why so, Pete?”
“I’d cheat somebody most shockin*
bad afore night.”
—“Jenny,” said a landlady to her
help, the other morning, “Jennv, was
there any fire in the kitchen last night,
while you were sitting up?”
“Yes, marra,” said Jenny, “there
was a spark there when I went down,
and I soon fanned it into aflame.”
The landlady looked suspicious at
Jenny, but the innocent girl went on
scrubbing, humming “Katy Darling.”