Newspaper Page Text
THE MILAN EXCHANGE.
"W. A. "WADE, Publisher.
TI1E GOOD OLD FA JIM.
There's (rot to be a revival
Of irnrxl sound cpme mnonir men,
Boforo the days pf prosperity
Will dawn upon us Rirain.
The boy mut li'nrn that learnin'
Mrniiii more tlinn the essence i f books,
And the Kirln niimt Irai n that bcuuty
Consists In more tluui looks.
Bef ore we ran sfrer elrar of failure
An 1 blit llnunclai alai ins
The boys have (rot to quit c'erldu'
And K't back onto the larms.
I know It ain't quite so nobby.
It ain't quite so easy, 1 know.
As partln your hair In the middle,
An' tlttin' up for a show.
But there'! more haril dollar In It,
An' more Independence, too.
An' more real peace and contentment
And health that is ruddy an' tmo.
I know that it takes hard labor.
Hut you vc (rot to "hautr on" in a store
Before you can earn a (rood llvln'
And clothes, witii but little more.
What hosts ot 'em (ro back broken
In health, in mind and purse.
To die In siirht of the clover.
Or linger nlonir. which is worse.
An' how many mourn, when useless,
That they didn't see the charm,
Tho safety and independence
Of a life on the good old farm.
JACOB AND FOLLY.
Cattley was a messenger to
rcrkinson, uoldehest & Co
bankers in Lombard street.
At least he always considered himself
attached to the establishment as a mcs
senger, though he had never "signed
articles" with tho principals, and was
just barely tolerated outside on the
pavement, at an acute angle of the
building and three feet from the street
doors, where customers and clerks
were Dot likely to tumble over him. Ho
had been hanging outside this big bank
for many years now; and it had become
a custom, of late days, to send him on
little errands which were not within tho
province of a regular clerk's duty, and
which clerks of Perkinsou, Goldchest &
Co. would have scorned to perform at
any price whatever. II anybody re
quired a cub, Jacob was sent for one; if
a country gentleman with a biff bal
ance on tho books wanted to be shown
the way to the Bank of England, or
Billingsgato, or the Tower, Jacob was
told oft' as guide; if something was
wanted surreptitiously by the clerks, in
the shape ot a newspaper or a ham
sandwich, Jacob was sent for it; and
there had been times when it was con
sidered safe to trust him even with
Jacob received no salary, but was
supported bv voluntary 'contributions,
like a hospital; and what these contri
butions amounted to in the year there
Lad been much speculation concerning
t the bank, amongst the clerks. It
was set down bv young and iruagina
tive minds as a "pretty penny, take
altogether." But taking .Jacob Catt
ley altogether was, to the ordinary
observer, to set him down as
a poor, nan-starved, ill-clad, misera
ble old man, struggling hard to
live, and always on the brink
ot tailing at it.
A shabbier old gentle
man was not
to be found between tho
banK and Houndsditch; but he was
never in rajs, and he always boasted
clean face under his rusty-brown top
hat, which ho poised at the extreme
back of his gray head, lie did not ap
peirto flourish on his contributions,
but grew thinner and more pinched
with every week of his out-door service
there. "You can seo him shriveling
away," one young man hud seriously
asserted. "He"s a regular miser, l'fl
be bound." And with his hollow
cheeks, aud peaked nose, ami promi
nent chin, ground line to match that
poor pinched nose of his, ho might
have been taken for a miser, or a pau
per, or, indeed, anything deplorable.
Still lie had what tho clerks called
bis "tips"; and Mr. Goldchest, every
Saturday morning, when ho left tho
bank and before ho stepped into his
carriage, the door of. which Mr. Cattley
always opened for him, gave him some
thing, it was noticed; but whether a
sovereign or a threepenny piece was a
matter of uncertainty, the claw-like
band of Jacob closing so quickly on the
gift. Tho junior clerks thought it
would be a "threepenny," Mr. Gold
chest not being a liberal paymaster, in
their humble opinion, forcibly expressed
each quarter day; but Jacob, probably
of a reticent disposition, never let them
know, and at all events he did not wax
fat on his emoluments, and in the rainy
and frosty seasons caught many a colil
and cough, and wore, winter and sum
mer, the same mi it of gray threadbare
clothes, to which, in very inclement
weather, a red cotton neckerchief, re
lieved by white lozenges, and tied in a
strange knot, was added, by way of
protection to a giratle-like throat.
Jacob was considered a poor hanger
on, but Jacob had his hangers-on, too,
and people whom in his turn he took
upon himself to patronize. There are
always depths below depths in this ec
centric world of ours, and always some
poor brother and sistor to whom a hand
can be held out, or a little kindness
rendered, and Jacob Cattley had his de
pendent iir-Uie background, and one
who waited and watched for him as
regularly after banking hours on Sat
urdays, us ho waited and watched for
Mr. Goldchest about noon; and this de
pendent on Mr. Cattley was a dark
iiaired, dark-eyed purveyor of penny
button-holes and two-penny bou
quets; a poor flower-girl, who regarded
Mr. Cattley as a regular customer on
Saturdays, one who was always good
for a penny, sometimes even two-pence,
when lie had been extra fortunate iu
Jacob, it may be said, never pur
criased hli flowers ;n Lombard street;
no one in that busy center had ever seen
Jacob Cattley spend a penny-piece on
anything; but once away from the city
proper, and hurrying away toward
Kl.iolr ffiora llridnrn nn tlm Surrpv b!1a
of which he livcJ, and which he crossed
regularly twice a day to aud from his
"place of business any one who had
taken tho trouble to watch him which
no one ever had would have seen
Jacob somewhere in tho neighborhood
of Ludgate Hill bargaining with Polly
Baxter for a nosegay every Saturday
Jacob Cattley would even condescend
to patronize Polly Baxter, and to occa
sionally pass a remark upon the weath
er, or the extent of her stock in trade;
but all this was dono In an austere,
stand-ollish way, which did not encour
age conversation in return, and which
was a washed-out copy of the great
Goldchest manner, when the big bank
er skated across the pavement to his
carriage. Polly Baxter did not know
this, and thought it was very kind of
the old gentleman in the queer-looking
comforter to say a word or bow to her
now and then words which, with all
their coldness, had a little ring in them
of interest or sympathy, or something
not easy to comprehend, and which the
flower-girl did not attempt m any way
to account for. Sometimes she won
dered why he bought her flowers, or
what he did with them after ho got
home; he was so particular about the
bunch he purchased, and had so strong
a fancy for the brightest colors.
suddenly Jacob Cattley was missed
from Lombard street, and from the
neighborhood of Ludgate Hill; and Pol
ly Baxter's basket blushed with flowers
in vain for him. Every day Polly Bax
ter had been accustomed to see him be
tween four and live trotting homeward,
with his sharp face set due south; every
day he had said: "Good morning," in
a grave, fatherly way, and with a sol
emn bend of his long neck; and on Sat
urdays, as we have intimated, he al
ways stopped to bargain wilh her for
her gayest penny-worth. And now
Jacob was missing; and no one knew
where Jacob lived, so that the mystery
of his disappearance might have been
solved by a friendly call.
"He's dead, for sixpence, poor old
cove!" said tho iunior clerk, a pert and
slangy and over-dressed youth, whom
Jacob had in his heart disliked, despite
tho offering of a penny now and then,
He's off, depend upon it Pm sorry I
was hard on him last week."
Polly Baxter wondered more about
him than the rest of tho community
aware of Lis existence. She did not
know why she should "bother about tho
old man," but she did. He was a
something removed from her lite, a
regular customer gone; and that was to
be regretted when regular customers
were scarce. When sho had bought
her flowers at Covent Garden Market
ia tho early morning, and had taken
them to the little attio where she made
up her penny bunches for tho day, she
caught herself thinking or the "tunny
little man," and of his grave, old-fashioned
ways. She had had a father like
him once in some respects, and he had
died in the workhouse, praying that sho
would "keep good," which she had
Pollv was a poor, ignorant girl enough
who had never been taught to read and
write, and her father had been " a bad
lot, as it was termed, and had not
cared to see her taught, or cared much
about anything save himself, until ho
had become a martyr to rheumatism
and had lost his situation in the mar
ket, and had to go finally into tho
house, leaving his daughter with all the
world to herself and nobody in it to
look after her. Then tho father was
sorry and woke up to some little
thought of his motherless girl, when he
could do little elso but think, lie was
ono more of the big army ot plodders
who march under the banner of " Too
Nevertheless, Polly Baxter earned
her own living honestly, and made the
best of her position by thrift and in
dustry, coming very close to starvation
once or twico in the hard times which
will turn up to the hard workers. Still
she fought on, and had begun to teach
herself to read and write of late dnys,
and to fin 1 her way on Sundays to a
little chapel down a back street, and
listen with much surprise to what they
told her there, and wonder why it had
been kept from her all these years, and
why no ono in tho highways and
byways of her lifo had said a word
Possibly thinking of this had raado
her think of other folk as the light fil
tered a little through the darkuess of
Polly Baxter's life; but she did think a
great deal of the poor, old-fashioned
little man, who seemed to have van
ished like a ghost, and it became a
matter of speculation why he had ever
bought flowers of her at all, being a
man who probably had not much to
spend on the minor luxuries of life.
And so regular a customer, too,
thought Polly, with a sigh agaiu.
Suddenly the regular customer, how
ever, appeared again one Saturday, six
weeks or two months after everybody
thought he was dead. It was like a
ghost rising up in Lombard street, and
even Mr. Goldchest, taken unawares
by this tirst appearance at his carriage
dbor, gasped out: "Bless my soul!"
and slipped one foot off the curb-stone
into the gutter in his first surprise.
He was even a little curious for so
great a man, and said:
"Have you been ill, Jacob'
Ho did not know his ether name, ,401d
Jacob" was Mr. Cattloy's cognomen in
Lombard streets "Cranky Jacob" some
times. "No, sir."
Jacob s rugged lace twitched very
much as he touched his hat deferential
ly, and said:
I've had a loss, Mr. Goldchest"
Mr. Goldchest did not ask what or
whom ho had lost; he glanced at the
big rurty hat-band wrapped round the
rusty hat of his humble dependent;
there was a fugitive fear that there
might be something "catching" from
Mr. Cattlcy's close proximity, and he
stepped with alacrity Into his carriage
nnd drew up his window sharply. Fie
did not reward Jacob on that occasion;
he gave no thought to the arrears which
might have accumulated during Jacob's
absence from his duties; and tho old
man walked homo very thoughtfully,
and with a downcast expression of
countenance. On his way home ho
encountered Polly Baxter, who also was
deposed to take him for a ghost, and
nearly dropped her basket into the Lon
don mud at the first sight of him.
"Why, lor, sir! Who'd have thought
of it?" she exclaimed.
of what? he asked, a
Of your being alive, and moving
about like this. 1 m so glad."
Glad, are you? What are you glad
for?" ho inquired sharply.
"Glad to see an old customer turn
up, was tho truthtui reply.
"Ah! just so," jaeoD.
"Aud not that exactly, mind you,"
added Polly, "but because you are here,
you know. That's it Where havevou
been, sir? 111?"
This was Mr. Goldchest's inquiry
also, but not conveyed with so much in
terest. Anc his answer was the same
"I've had a loss.
"Not not money?"
"I've lost my daughter; all 1 had in
the world to me; all I cared for, child.
Good day," he said, with an excite
ment for which Polly was wholly un
prepared. Yes; but here; holdhardr, she cried,
inelegantly. "Ain'tyou agoing to have
any flowers to"
The old man hurried away from her.
darted across the road under horses'
heads and omnibus wheels, with almost
tne alacrity of youth, and itvas not till
he was upon lilaeklr;ars JLVridge that he
had recovered his composure, and quite
finished with a ragged pocket handker
chief, which was evidently a segment
of his winter wrapper, being of the
same striking pattern and color. When
ho had crossed the bridge aud south
wark street, and was turning into one
of tho little crowded thoroughfares on
tho right of the Blackfriars lioad, lead
ing to the salubrious quarters of Grav
el Lane and parts adjacent, he was as
tonishod and disoomlited again to find
Polly Baxter at his elbow, exceedingly
red in the face and short of breath.
"Well, you can jest walk, old gentle'
man, and no mistake," she said.
"What do you want with me?" he
asked, testily now. "What what ia
"I only want to say I'm sorry like,"
she blurted forth. "1 didn't think, all
at once, about the ikV's, and that you
wanted them for her, of course, who's
forte now, and who was fond of flowers,
see; I see. You won't mind what I
said; will you, now?" "
Jacob Cattley stared at her; but he
croaked forth very hoarsely:
"I'll never ax yon again; I'll never
loot your way again; but take this,
please, for this once: won't you1"'
And Polly held out his usual-sized
bunch of flowers, at which the old man
shrank back as though it had been a
pistol leveled at him.
"It isn't for the money," said Polly,
excitod now herself. "I don't want
any money. Ketch 'old. Please do.
Jest to make believe you're taking them
to her the same as ever, sir."
The old man stretched out a trem
bling hand toward the flowers at this
suggestion, and Polly thrust them into
his grasp and fairjy ran away across
the bridge again, hving him looking
after her open-mouthed, and with some
salt tears brimming over his blinking
eyelids and making their way down the
deep furrows in his cheeks.
On the Monday Jacob passed her a3
usual on his homeward route, and with
his old patronizing bow, and with a
steadier stare at her, too, as if no long
er afraid to face her. But Polly looked
the other way and would not see him
fell into the habit of hiding from him.
even and on tho following Saturday
would also have eluded him, nad he not
come up the reverse way of the street,
and taken her unawares bv a flank
'Let me have a good bunch to-day
a two-penny bunch," he said, in quito a
Polly Baxter was surprised: but she
era vf blm t Via ilmirera Ki. minimil and
ho 'onpeu tne money into uer uasneu
at you don't want them now; da
you?" she murmured.
"les, of course i do. J. hat was a
good thought of yours.child, la-t week.
And I took the flowers to her."
"Oh! I see!" ejaculated Polly.
"And shall do so every week, mak
ing believe, as you say, that she's wait
ing for them. It's not a bad thought at
all," he muttered. "She was so fond
"How old was sheP" asked Polly.
" About your age, I should say."
'And ailing always, was she? '
"For the last three or four years, yes.
And then Jacob hurried away, and
this time she did not attempt to follow
It was from this time that Jacob con
trived to be as regular a customer to
Polly Baxter as he had ever been; and
had any one had the curiosity to fol
low the movements ot the old man, he
or she would have seen him every
Sunday, in fair weather or foul, plod
ding on to Tooting Cemetery to lay his
little offering ou the grave of the
daughter who Lad . been always fond
of flowers. When the wlntet time
came on, and flowers grew very scaree
and dear, and Polly was compelled to
raise her prices, the old man looked
very pale and pinched with cold, and
did not move along with his custom
ary alacrity; on tho contrary, limped
painfully at times with tho rheumatism
which had seized him.
One very cold Saturday she said to
"You ain't well?"
"Well, not quite as well as I might
be, perhaps," he answered, cautiously.
"I don t mind your paying for these
some other time, vou know," she
added, hurriedly, "if'
"If what?" he asked, as sho came to
a full stop.
" If you're hard up. It won't mako
much difference to me; and sho might
miss 'em, too."
'Thankee," he said, gently, and ho
looked very hard at her f rom under his
tangled, wiry eye-brows. "That's a
kind thought, child. Y hat did you say
your name was?"
1 lidn t say, she answered, sur
prised in her turn, " it's Polly Baxter."
"living where, now.-
"St. James' Row," she answered.
"At the back there. But why?"
That was tho last time that Tolly
Baxter met Jacob Cattley in tho London
streets; for Jacob disappeared again,
and Lombard street and the flower-girl
on Ludgate Hill missed him altogether.
"Ho must be dead this time, poor old
chap!" thought Polly.
lint roily was again deceived. One
morning a short, red-faced, woman.
with a market basket on her arm and a
key in her hand, looked hard at her,
"Is your name Baxter?"
"Yes; that's it"
"You're wanted in George street.
Gravel Lane, No, 29. My lodger, the
old man who used to buy flowers of
you. wants to see you precious bad."
"He ain't dead, then!" criod Polly.
"Well, I am glad."
"Don't see what you've got to bo
glad about," said the woman, sharply.
"But no: he ain't dead yet; he's going,
"Oh! Is he? Oh! I hope ho ain't!"
"Can you find vour way?"
"Yes. Trust me for that."
Tolly Baxter trudged away at onco
to Georgo street, and to No. 20, where
ou the top floor she found poor Jacob
Cattley, very much down in the world,
and with very little life left lit him
The rheumatics had got an iron grip of
him at last and fever had followed, and
this was very nearly the last of him, as
the red-laced woman had prophesied
As Polly entered the room ha quite
smiled at her, as at an old Iriend.
"Polly," ho said, speaking with great
uilliculty, "1 wish to put you in mind
of an old otler to mo. '
- "What's that, sir?"
"I want you to open a credit account
with me. '
"A what?" cried Polly.
"It's a term we have in Lombard
street," he explained. "To trust me, 1
mean, for a little while for a few flow
"To bo sure!" cried Polly.
"1 11 pay you soon; and 1 want you
to do more than that much more.
Polly waited and wondered till he
took time to recover his breath; then
"I want you on Sun.lay afternoon to
take them to her and lav them on her
grave. Do you mind very much?"
".Not at all," said i'oiiy, "in go
every Sunday directly after chapel, if
you 11 tell nio how to hud it.
"Oh! you go to chapel, then?"
"Yes, sir; reg'lar."
"Good girl! Keep that up."
"No fear, sir."
"And come and tell mo regularly
what they tell vou there; will you
child 1 should like to know.
"To bo sure 1 will, sir."
"When you ennio back from her
Then hegae his directions, which
Tolly Baxter carried out faithfully, tin
til the end came, and Jacob Cattley
was buried with his daughter.
After his death, Polly Baxter went
regularly to the cemetery just tho same
and laid her little bunch ol flowers on
the grave of him who had said kind
words to her in life. Phis was tne end
of him, and of tho story, she thought,
until one day, a week or two afterward
a prim little gentleman in black called
upon her aud asked her many ques
tions, aud made perfectly sure that she
was the genuine and only folly Baxter.
flower vender, before he surprised her
with bis news.
Jacob cattley had been a bit of a
miser, alter all, and had scraped to
gether, by his humble and faithful
services in Lombard street the sum
of one hundred and tifty pounds. He
had died without a relation in the world
to care for him, and he had left his
money to Polly Baxter, of 41) St.
James now. City, K C, in remem
brance of her kindness, and in "settle
ment of his credit account with her.
Polly Baxter is married now, and
she and her husband have a flourishing
little greengrocer s shoo and aro doing
very well. There are fresh flowers still
on the old man's gravo at Tooting, and
one grateful heart keeps his memory
green. F, W. Robinson, in -V. J'. In
There is nothing quite so amazing
as a Japanese statistical report the
progress of the people in civilization is
probably the most rapid ever known in
the history of the world. The authori
ties there have just published a sum
mary of educational works for 1882,
showing there were then in tho country
28,'J08 elomentary schools, 76.76U teach-
ers and ,(Ut,St scholars, in 1880,
37,083,633 papers wore sold. VurrenU
FACTS AM) FIGURES.
There are 34,000 deaf mutes in the
United States. Bv their intermarriage.
they aro constantly increasing. N. J'.
Since 1880 the increase of deposits
in tho State and savings banks of tho
country has been nearly $o00,000,000.
Massachusetts statistics show that
the chance of being killed by the cars
are one in 20,000,000 now. while in 1808
they were one in 6,000,000. Boston
Tho statisticians of the United
States Mint estimate that the total pro
duction of gold in the world during tho
400 years ending 18H2 was tons,
equal in value to 37.211. 71)7.800. Dur
ing the same period the production of
silver was 197,731 tons, of the value of
H.M7 .31H 17.'i rhilnHf lnhiei rrexx.
What is claimed to be tho largest
grain elevator in the world has been
erected at Newport News, va., by tho
Chesapeake & Ohio Railroad Company.
It is bO feet wide, Mb' feet long and
about 164 feet high, with engine
and boiler rooms 40x100 and
40 feet high. The storage capacity
of the hoise is 1,000,006 bushels.
with a receiving capacity of 30,000 and
a shipping capacity of 20,000 bushels
per hour. St. Louu Post.
Tho lirst attempts to introduce gas
as an illuminator in the United states
were made in Baltimore between 1816
and 1820. They failed, but it was suc
cessfully introduced in Boston in 1822.
The next year the first gas-light com
pany was formed in JNew lork, tho
.New 1 ork tas-Ldght Company."
They begau operations with a capital
of 1,000,HX. But tho people were so
slow to adopt tho new illuminator that
tho company was not in fun operation
until 1827, when the population was
about 16(1,000. Baltimore Sun.
According to the Massachusetts
Bureau of Labor Statistics among the
women laborers of that State are 106
barbers and hairdressers, 6 barkeepers.
8 billposters, a commercial travelers, t
bauk officials, 2 pawnbrokers, 4 team
sters, 2 sailors, 1 gun and locksmith, 75
bakers, 68 shoemakers, 6 carpenters, 2
door, sash and blind makers, 13
masons, 1 paper-hanger, 1 plumber and
gasiitter, 2 carriage makers, 16 watch
al clock repairers, 20 cabinet makers.
10 harness makers, 7 machinists, 4
blacksmilhs, 235 printers, 2 stone cut
t rs, 4 coopers, 2U6 laborers, and 5 en
gineers. WIT AN1 WISDOM.
What sound is to the ear, and what
light is to the eye, that the soul is to
the brain. xV. O. Ficauune.
Ho that rightly understands the
reasonableness and excellence of char
ity, will know that it can never be ex
cusable to waste any of our money ia
pride and tolly. . Law.
Artist's friend (pointing to sketch)
"Say, Harry, whore did you get
this?" Harry "Why, I got that out
of my head." Friend "Well, it's a
lucky thing for your head that you got
-Tho best recipe for going through
lifo in a commendable way is to feel
that everybody, no matter how rich or
-7 .... ... ..
how poor, needs an the Kindness tney
can get from others in tho world.
Yes, my son. There is gold in the
mountains of Idaho and Montana.
Lots of it And so there is heaps of it
in the United States Treasury, too.
And it is just about as easy to get it
from one plaae as the other. Good deal
easier, in fact. Burdette.
A young man blackened his mus
tache with a lead comb aud then took
his girl out for a moonlight stroll.
When the fair ono appeared in tins
bright light of tho family circle a couplo
of hours later ner face looked like a
railroad map. Wap.
Reckless dudo (to burglar, whom
he has discovered in closet): "O, you
nasty, saucy thing, to hide in my bed
room! There! I'll break your um
brella, so you can't go out without get
ting soaked, for it's raining like any
thing outside. Burglar faints. tVit
caijo Tribune. ' .
A policeman who was patrollino
Montcalm street east the other day
heard a whistle blow for all it was
worth, and ran a block and a half. to
find a woman with her head out of & ,
chamber window. "Who blew that
whistle?" "I did." "Do you want
me?" "No, sir. My gal and her beau
aro spoonin' around on the side stoop
and I blew the whistle to let him know
that it wai time to skip or look out for
clubs. Dttrou tree rress.
"I'm afraid I was cheated on those
lightning rods." "What's the matter
with themP" "I hadn't had 'em ur
inor'n a month when a fearful stroke of
lightning knocked 'em all ways for
Sunday, burned my barn, snd every
thing in it" "But didn't the agent
give you a guarantee?" "Oh, yes; I
wrote to mm, ana ne wrote oacn venr
consolingly." "What did he say?rr
"That lightning never strikes twice la
the same plaou." Hocliester FostrEx
"Is there anybody about this estab-
lishman who loves poetry?" he said
as he opened the door and glared
around the editorial room with a doubt
ful look. "Certainly there is," said tho
editor: "have you got some there?'
'Yes, four pjems, all of em on spring,'"
Good! That s just what wo want.
John sprinkle a little mint sauce oa
these and tako 'em down-stairs."
'What for?" demanded the poet. "For
the goat He is the only one about the
establuiliment who loves' poetry. But
he won t eat spring poetrv withoua
mint sauce." A', i. Sun.