The Richmond palladium. [volume], March 17, 1875, Image 1

About The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875

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me-half of aeolusn one yearL.
rhree-fowths of a eolamn oneyear
One column, one year, changeable
TERMS.
4n ad VAYIOSl..
V0L.XLV. AiV
RICHMOND; WAYNE COUNTY, INDIANA, M'CH 17. 1875.
IST'T NO. 1.
quarterly io 09
-' f il mw lO imtm tcr He.
:' ' Mall Time TaAle. ' - '
OOlN'O XOKTH-Ineludingall Ptf'HP
plied trom the Chicago K- R-, and the Ft.
t Wayne B. Unclose at 10-.U0 a. m.
tiOINti SOUTH 1. Including Cincinnati.
i.i .Hnnints beyond.closes at 7:30 a. m.
- 2 llSgacea'supplled from the
OOIKO - BAST Including all places "OPT
iedTroni the Columbus R. K., ami
f ( all Eastern and Central Mates, closes at
I , iaio a. m- VlaDytoaadJteniftRaU-
road, close 6:00 a.m. !
0olG WEST 1. Including IndlanapoMs
, - - z. same as iwi vv , - j-
sT clading all polnte uppU,Dy tneI.nd 7
anapona TUJTroad; also, Chicago and all
' points west an orUiwit, closes 3 KM)
p.m. " '
To Webster, WUHamsburg and Bloom rngs
10 SorU a' Tuesday, Thursday and SaWf
' day, at 20 p. m. . 5
To Cox's Mills, Whit Water.Bethel and Ar
Ton Monday, Wednesday and Friday,
' atl2Hm. ' ,
To Ablngton, Clifton and liberty, on Mon-
, day and Friday, at 7:00 a. m. .
To Boston, Beechymlre, Oood wl n"s 'or"f.'
t rlaav , ai i.
!
MAILS ARE OPE!T
At8y a.m. from Indianapolis and Clncln-
natl and beyond.
At 11:00 a. m. from Cincinnati, way and
At 00p" m.nfrom East via Columbus Rall
ro5, and Dayton and Xenia Railroad.
At 700 p.m. from North, via Chicago Kall
roaSand Fort Wayne Railroad..
- At 8300 p. m.from Indianapolis and bey ond.
Office open from 70 a. m. to 7:30 p: m.
On Sunday, from 90 olMO a. m.
Dec. 1 1S74. ' B U.UAVI3. F. M.
BAILBOAD TIME-TABLE.
Plttabunr,' Clneinnatl aad S. Ienla
iiallway.
PAS-HANDLE B.OCTE..
CONDF.NSED TIME CARD.-CM.CHBCT AITD IK
DIAS APOLIS DIVISION 'OV. 30. 174.
OOISO WEST.
j No. 2. I '.
8. IJO. 8.
Sio. 10
Pittsburg.4
2:00 Dm .
lOam
7:50am
8:40pni
4:45pm
6:aHpm
6:lWpm
6:40pm
7:12pm
8:16pm
8:.Vpra
9:42pm
Columbus
Mil'ord
Uriana
- Piaua....
12:00 n't; 5:10
i.ii R-n
pm I0rt)oam
Dmill:ltani
A. Aft
2:U2 aiuj 720
8:12 am: 8:13
8:Wan! 9:15
4:20 am M.
b-M am 10:25
6:08 am 11:12
:5(iam;12K3
amj 1:30
pm;iz:iAiiu
pm
pm
am
am
pm
pm
iapm
Brad J un J
ZMUpm
Ureeuv'le,;
RieUm'd,
Cambrt'ge;
JCnlghtsrn;
Inrfia'plis.
2:40pm
3:40pm
4:iwpm
5KKpm
6:30pm
11:10pm
GOIJiQ KAST.
(No. 1. 1 2o. 3. I No. 5.
No. 7.
India'pli-I 4a0am! 70 pm
Knights'as 59amj 8:4 pm
9:35am
ll.-OOam
1 1:45am
12sJ5pm
1:31pm
2:00pm
2:42Dm:
4:55pm
6:05pm
6:42pm
7:15pm
8:aipm
8:45pm
Cain On ge e:am vunyiu.
Kicbm'nd: 7:15am 10S pm
" OreenT'le. 8:23am,
Brad J un! 8:50am 7.-00 am
. Ptq.ua-.i 9:17am 7:27 am
Urbana.' 10:10 ami 8:40 am
Milford 10ir0amr 9:40am
32pm 10:11pm
4:45pm 10:53pm
fiWpm 11:55pm
2:20am. 7:25ain
ColumJous. 11:50 amjll:00 am
PittahnntJ 7:15 Din ....
Nos.1.2, 6 and 7 run Daily.
All other trains
DaKy .except Sunday.
Rifhmend and Ckieao Division.
Nov. 30, 1S74.
OOISG SiOKTH. "
No. 2. : No. 8.
j No. 10.
' Clncinnat.-.
Richmond
Haarerst'n.i .
' 7:30 am
10:30 am
ll:ltam
Il.lslln
I 70 pm
'10:10 pm
10:52 pm
'liaipm
l .1 . 1 u M u
NewCastlej.
Anderson.)
1:10 pm
... i.-i.rT mil-
Dill
Hill
Crown Pt
7:20pmj
."i 6:20 am
i Q.Uk .
Chicago.
DMipmi ......
... I O .W B1U
GOtXO SOCTH.
-No. 1.
No. 3.
Chicago ! 7i50 pm
Bt20 am
I
Crown Pt! 8:40 pm!
104 amj ... t.
10 pm !
2:20 pm . J
4:11 pm, j
58 pm
5:38 pm'
6S pmi
935 pmi.... i -
Logansp t. l:4o am
Knt(,rao.' 2lam
Anderson.) 8:42 am
Newcastle; 4:38 am
Hagerst'n.I 5K)S am
Richmond' 5:50 am
Cincinnati 9:00 am
No. 10 leaves Richmond daily. No I leaves
Chicago aally. All other trains run daily,
except Sunday. -
I,lttle Miami Division.
Nov. 30, 1874.
GOIXQ WEST.
No. 2. I No. 4.
No. 6. j No. 10.
i Pittsburg
Dre June
Columb 's
fjonlon
Xenia
Morrow
Cincinati
Xenia.....
Davton.
Richm'd
Ind'polis.
20 nm
150 am
T9Q on.
7:50 am
1:22 pm
3:4t) pm
4:34 pm
5:35 pm
6:37 pm
80 pm
5:45 pm
6:45 pm
08 nm
iMI lift.
50
am :10:05 am
o in 1 W lit urn
1 -0 am
6:00
2:20 am
7:10
8:28
am 12:15 pm
3:40 am
5:15 am
" " : I " " !
A 1 t 71 I.lll I
a . - ' ..ill
10:30
7:20
8:10
10:00
1:30
am, 1:15 pmi
ami 3:20pm!
pm 6:30 pm
GOING EAST.
No. 1. ! No. 3. 1 No. 5. No. 7.
Ind'nolis
Richmnd;
Dayton.
Xenia
Cincinntij
Mbrrow i
12:40 pm
8:15 am
9:40 am
70 am
3:45 pm
1:20 pm
2:48 pm
o. - .1
7:10 pm
8:40 pm
nm
8:2S am!
Xenia . !
0:35 am
12:50
23
35
am
am
London .
Columb '
Dres Jnnoi
Pittsburg
10:43 am
11:45 am
O.' lull
53 pm
6:05 pm
8:31 pm
220 am
10:55.pin
11:55 pin
22 am
725 ain
am
am
pin
1:58 pm
5:25
1220
7:15 pm
Nos. 1, 2, 6 and 7 run Dailvtoand from
Cincinnati. All other Trains Dai lv. except
Sunday. W. L. O'BRIEN,
Gen 1 Passenger and Ticket Agen t.
C. It. Jk Ft. Wayne Railroad.
GOING KOHTH.
GOING SOUTH.
O R m'l A ex. 100 am I Portland ac. 9:00 am
Portland ac 40 pm 1 O R m'l & ex.625 pm
President McMfthon, of France,
wants 3kL Buffet, President of the
Assembly, to form a ministry, and
it is announced he will endeavor to
do so. Buffet was re-elected Presi
dent of the Assembly on Monday
"by a vote of 479 to 63. This ma
jority, larger than the Assembly
ever gave before for a President,
shows that M. Buffet will command
a strong majoiity in the House, if
he succeeds in forming a ministry.
The Pall Mall Gazette corra
spondent at Berlin reports that the
German government has received
a memorial from the Protestant
clergy of Spain, complaining that
liberty of worship is threatened
Similar memorials have been for
warded to other Protestant powers
in Europe and to the United States.
They ask the intercession of the
Protestant powers m behalf of
those who, once priests, embraced
the reformed religion, and married
while the republic was in. existence.
It was by a recent decree that such
marriages have been declared nul
and void.
The cost of the British Arctic
expedition is estimated at 98,000,
including the price of the vessels
and three years' stores. Expe
rienced navigators consider the
present season as unusually favor
able one for th enterprise, and it
is thought that the German expe
dition now in course of organization
at Breman will succeed in obtaining
gOTUrnment aid.
1?T THE OMAMISO.
Each day when the light Is waning
Aid fading down in the west,
There comes a thoughtful season.
An hour that I love the best,
When out of the gatheringhadows
Come voices sweet and low.
Like the murmnrlcg waves of ocean
When calm tides ebb and flow. " '
The hour when the spirit's vision
Is loosed from the bonds of clay,
And out thro' the gate of sunset
May follow the golden day. . . '
And oft when the cares and crosses
Have dimmed its beautiful light,
In prayer t kneel at the pot tal
And mate my peace with the night.
Ahoatofthe purple twilight '".'. .;
Come touches of vanished hands,
And lo ! from the realm of shadow s '
. A beautiful angel stands, t ! y ' ; . '
With the chrism of a benediction
. For the prayer of my soul's regret,
For the empty hands uplifted
- And the eyes with sorrow wet. .
And I know when the darker shadows -i
if hall fall on my latest day, - - 1
Sealing my eyes in slumber it J
And wiping all tear away, ' i
I Yr the sad mistakes and losses,
The labor that brought no gain,
I shall find somewhere In the future
A recompense for all pain. '
D. M. J, Indianapolis People.
BILL AND TEIE WIDOW.
A Story That Will Make Yon Laugh.
"Wife," Eaid Ed. Wilbur one morn
ing as he sat stirring his coffee with
one hand and holding a plum cake on
his knee with the 'other, and looked
across the table into the bright eyes
of his little wife, "wouldn't it be a
good joke to get bachelor Billy Smiley
to take Widow Watson to Baroum's
show next week?"
"You can't do it. Ed.: he won't ask
her, he's so awful shy. Why, he came
by here the other morning when I was
hanging out clothes, and he looked
over the fence and spoke, but when I
phook out n night gown be blushed
like a girl and went away."
"I think I can manage it," said Ed.;
"but I'll have to lie just a little. But
then it wouldn't be much harm under
the circumstances, for I know she
likes him, and he don't dislike her:
but just as you say, he's so shy. I'll
just go over to his place to borrow
some bags of him, and if I don't bag
him before I come back, don't kiss
me for a week. Nelly." s
So saying, Ed. started, and while he
is mowing the fields we will take a
look at Billy Smiley. He was rather
a good-looking fellow, though his hair
and whiskers had some gray hairs,
and he had got in a set of artificial
teeth. But every one said he was a
good soul, and so he was. He had as
good a hundred acre farm as any in
Norwich, with a new house and every
thing comfortable; and if he wanted a
wife, many a girl would have jumped
t . K-r.f... iiIta a. mutter on agrass
hoDDer. But Bill was so casniul
always was and when Susan Berry-
bottle, whom he was so sweet on,
though he never said "boo" to her,
Sot married to old Watson, he just
rew in his head like a mud turtle
into his shell, and there was no get
ting out again, though it had beeu
noticed that since Susan had become
a widow he had paid more attention
to his clothe?, and had been very reg
ular in attendance at the church the
fair widow attended.
But here conies Ed. Wilbur.
"Good morning, Mr. Smiley."
"Good morning, 3Ir. Wilbur.
What's the news your way ?"
"Oh, nothing particular, that I
know of," said Ed., "only Bamum's
show, that everybody is talking about,
and everybody and his girl is going to.
I was over to old Sockrider's last
night, and I see bis son Gus has got a
new buggy, and was scrubbing up his
harness, and he's got that white faced
colt ol his as sleek as a seal. I un
derstand that he thinks of taking
Widow Watson to the show. He's
been hanging around there a pood deal
of late, but I'd just like to cut him
out, I would. Susan is a nice little
woman, and deserves a better man
than that young pup of a fellow,
though I would not blame her much,
either, if she takes him, for she must
be dreadfully lonesome, and then she
has to let her farm out on shares, and
it isn't half worked, and no one else
seems to have the spunk to speak up
to her. By jingo! if I were a single
man I'd show you a trick or two."
So saying, Ed. borrowed some bags
and started around the corner of the
barn, here he had left Bill sweeping,
and put his ear to a knot-hole and lis
tened, knowing that the bachelor had
a habit of talking to himself when
anything worried him.
"Confound that young Sockrider"
said Bill. "What business has he
there, I would like to know ? Well,
so have I, and a new harness, too, and
his horse can't get in sight of mine;
and I declare I've half a mind to, yes,
I will, I'll go this very night and ask
her to go to the Bbow with me. I'll
show Ed. Wilbur that I ain't such a
calf as he thinks I am, if I did let old
Watson get the start of me in the first
place."
Ed. could scarcely help laughing
outright, but be hastily hitched the
bags on his shoulder, and with a low
chuckle at his success started home to
tell the news to Nelly, and about five
o'clock they saw Bill go by with his
horse and buggy, on his way to the
widow's. He jogged along quietly,
thinking ot the old singing school
davs. and what a pretty eirl Susan was
then, and wondering inwardly if he
would have more courage now to talk
up to her, until at a distance of about
a mile from her house he came to a
a bridge over a large creek and it
so happened that just as he reached
tha miI s4 lit -x" f Via Krr rr i a rrntrA a
tremendous sneeze, and blew his teeth
out of his mouth and clear over the
dash-board, and striking on the planks
they rolled over the side of the bridge,
and dropped into four feet of water.
Words cannot do justice to poor
Bill or paint the expression of his
face as he sat there, completely dum-
founded at his startling piece of ill
luck. After getting down on his
hands and knees, he looked over into
the water. Yes, there they were, at
the bottom, with a crowd of little fish
es rubbing their noses against them,
and Bill wished to goodness that his
nose was as close lor one second. His
beautiful teeth that had cost him so
much, and the show comine on. and
no time to get another set, and the
widow and young Sockrider. Well,
he must try and get them somehow
and no time to lose for some one
might come along and ask him what
he was fooling around there for. He
had no notion of spoiling his good
clothes by wading in with them on,
and besides, if he did that he could
not go to the widow's that night; so
Bill took a look up and down the
road to see that no one was in sight,
and then quickly undressed'himself,
laying his clothes in the buggy to keep
them clean. Then he ran around the
bank and waded into the almost icy
cold water, but his teeth did not chat
ter in his head he only wished they
could. Quickly he waded on so as
not to stir up the mud, and when he
got to the right spot he dropped un
der the water and came up with his
teeth in his hand, and replaced them
in his mouth. But hark ! What
noise is that? A wagon, and a little
dog barking with all his might, and
his horse is just starting. "Whoa !
whoa f Stop.-you brute you stop!"
But 6 top he would not, but went off
at a spanking pace with the unlortu
nate bachelor after him, and the little
dog yelping after the bachelor. Bill
was certainly in capital running cos
tume, but thought he strained every
nerve, he could not touch the buggy
or reach the lines that were dragging
on the ground.
After a while his plug hat shook off
the seat and the hind wheel went over
it, making it as flat as a pancake.
Bill snatched it as he ran, and after
jamming his fist into it, stuck it all
dusty and dimpled on his head. And
now he saw the widow's house on the
hill, and, oh, what will he do ! Then
his coat fell out, he slipped it on, and
then making a desperate spurt, he
clutched the back of the seat and
scrambled in, and pulling the buffalo
robe over his legs, stuffed the other
things beneath. Now the horse hap
pened to be one that he got from
Squire Moore, and he got it from the
widow, and he took it into hi head
to stop at her gate, which Bill had no
power to prevent, as he had not posses
sion of the reins, besides he was t.io
busy buttoning his coat up to his chin
to think of doing much else. Tbe widow
heard the rattle of the wheels and
looked out, and seeing that it was
Smiley, and that he didn't offer to get
out, she went to the gate to see what
he wanted, and there she stood chat
ting with her white arms on the top
of the gate, and her face right toward
bim, while the cold chills ran down
his shirtless back clear to his bare
feet beneath the buffalo robe, and the
water from his hair and the dust from
his hat bad combined to make some
nice little streams of mud that came
trickling down his face. She asked
him to come in. No, he was in a
hurry, he said. Still he did not go.
He didn't like to ask her to pick up
his reins for him, because he did not
know what excuse to make for not
doing it himself. Then he looked
down the road behind him and saw a
white-faced horse coming, and at
once surmised It rwas that . ot Ous
Sockrider ! He resolved to do or die,
and hurriedly told his errand. The
widow would be delighted to go, of
course she would. But wouldn't he
come in? No he was in a hurry he
said; had to go to Mr. Green's place.
"Oh," said the widow; "you're go
ing to Green's are you ? Why, I was
jut-t going there myself to get one of
the girls to help me quilt more. Just
wait a second while I get my bonnet
and shawl, and I'll ride with you,"
and away she skipped.
"Thunder and lightning!" said
Bill, what a scrape! and he hastily,
clutched his pants from between his
feet, and was preparing to wriggle into
them, when a lignt wagon, drawn by
the white-faced horse, driven by a
boy, came along and stopped beside
him. The boy held up a pair of boots
in one hand and a pair of socks in the
other, and just as the widow reached
the gate again, he said :
"Here's your boots and socks, Mr.
Smiley, that you left on tbe bridge
when you was in swimming."
' You're mistaken," said Bill,
"they're not mine.'
"Why," said the boy, "ain't you the
man that had the race after the horse
just now ?"
"No, sir, I am not! You had bet
ter go about your business." Bill
sighed at the loss of his Sunday boots,
and turning to the widow said :
"Just pick up the lines will you
please; this brute of a horse is forever
switching them out of my hands."
Tbe widow complied, and then he
pulled one corner ot the robe cau
tiously down and she got in.
"What a lovely evening," said she,
"and so warm I don't think we need
the robe over us, do we?"
(You see she had a nice dress and a
pair of new gaiters, and she wanted
to show them.)
"Oh, my !" said Bill, earnestly,
"you'll find it chilly riding, and I
wouldn't have you catch cold for the
world."
She seemed pleased at his tender
care for her health, ind contented
herself with sticking one of her little
feet out with a long silk necktie over
the end of it.
"What is that, Mr. Smiley, a neck
tie?" "Yep," said he, "I bought it the
other day, and I must have left it in
the bucey. Never mind it."
"But,7' said she, "it was so care
less;" and making a dive after it, he
clutched it in her hand and held it
bard and fast.
Then they went on quite a distance,
he still holding her hand in his, and
wondering what he would do when
they got to Green's, and she wonder
ing why he did not say something nice
to her as well as squeeze her hand,
and why his coat was buttoned up so
tightly on such a warm evening, and
what made his hat and face dirty, un
til they were going down a little hill
one of the traces came unhitched, and
they bad to stop.
"Oh, murder!" exclaimed Bill,
"what next?"
"What is the matter, Mr. Smiley?"
said the widow, with a start which ,
came near jerking the robe off his '
knees.
"One of the traces is off," answered
he.
Why don't you get out and fix it?"
said the widow.
"I can't," said Bill; "I've got that
is, I haven't got oh, dear, I'm so
sick! What shall I do?"
"Why, Willie," said she tenderly,
"what is the matter? Do tell me."
She gave his hand a little squeeze, and
looking in his pale face she thought
he was going to faint, so she got out
her smelling bottle with her left hand,
and pulling the stopper out with her
teeth,' she stack it to his nose.
' Bill was iust takine a breath for a
mighty sigh, and the pungent odoH
maue mm tnrow oacK. uia smu s ji ,
that he lost his balance and went over
the low-backed buggy. The little
woman gave a little scream as his bare
feet flew past her head, and covering
her face with her hands she gave way
to tears or smiles, it is. hard to tell
which. - Bill was "right side up" in a
moment, and was leaning s over ; the
back of the seat humbly apologizing
and explaining, when E,d. Wilbur and
his wife and baby drove up behind
and stopped. Poor Bill felt that he
would rather have been shot than
have Ed. Wilbur catch him in such a
scrape, but there was no hope for it
now, so he called Ed. to nim and
whispered in his ear. Ed: was like to
burst with suppressed laughter, but
he beckoned to his wife to draw up,
and. after savins: something to her, he
helped the widow out of Bill's buggy
and into his, and the two women went
on, leaving the men behind. Bill lost
no time in arranging his toilet as well
as he could, and then with great per
suasion, fid. got him to go home with
him, and hunting up slippers and
socks, and netting him washed and
combed, had him quite presentable
when the ladies arrived. I need not
tell how the story was all wormed out
of bashful Bill, and how they all
laushed as thev sat around the tea
table that night, but will conclude by
saying that they went to the show to
cetber, and Bill has no fear of Gus
Sockrider now.
This is the story of Bill and the
widow just as I had it from Ed. Wil
bur, and it there is anything unsatis
factory about it, ask him.
From Harper's Weekly.
A Divided Allegiance.
The election of an ultramontane
Senator from New York will necessa
rily awaken new interest in the queS'
tion which Mr. Gladstone has suggest
ed. and to which Dr. Manning has re
oently replied: Can a believer in the
Pope s infallibility be a good citizen
in a free state? The strong assertions
of Dr. Manning or the casuistical ret-,
icence of Dr. Newman have failed al
together to f-hake the belief of most
intelligent persons that one who owes
implicit allegiance to the I'opo can
not at the same time perform his duty
to his country unattected by the innu
ence or a loreign master, in vain are
we told by a Manning that the Pope is
too amiable a person to interfere in
matters that do not belong to him, or
by a Newman that conscience must
still be the hnal guide, lhe fatal
lliftnrv of :.n absolute rule still banns
over us, and we are reluctantly
informed that the ltoman priest is
endowed with a temporal and spiritu
al power from which there is no ap-
neal. Aeainst such an authority what
Roman Catholic will venture to rebel?
Butthe question in reality is one of
fact. Are ultraiaontane Roman Cath
olics any where good citizens of any
modern state? Not certainly in Italy,
where they are invoking a foreign in
vasion and plotting the ruin of their
country; nor in Germany, where the
Catholic unions have already stirred
up a dangerous excitement in all parts
of the empire, and where they even
strove to divide Germans when the
French were about to cross the Rhine;
not in France, where the Pope has in
terfered to promote despotism; nor in
Spain, where the priests have never
ceased to excite horrible insurrec
tions; nor in Ireland, Mexico, Brazil,
and the South American republics;
nor in our own, where Senator Ker
nan and his allies have never failed
to encourage rebellion and threaten
the unity ef the nation, and to vote in
solid masses for infamous politicians
whose only merit was that they wore
friendly to the ultramontane plans.
With us they had answered the ques
tion by their unpatriotic conduct long
before it passed Mr. Gladstone's lips,
and we bad discovered by a fatal ex-
Eerience that no political leader could
e honeet or trustworthy who obeyed
the Vatican rather than his country.
A divided allegiance is all that Sen
ator Kernan can give to his American
home, and the State of New York will
be represented at Washington for the
next six years by one who is opposed
at heart to all the principles that lie
at the base of free institutions. The
Democracy have resolutely allied
themselves with tbe ultraniontanes,
and we must expect in future no trace
of tenderness for any honest or loyal
American feeling, or for any of those
instincts that led on the nation to
universal freedom. Mr. Kernan may
well be taken as the representative of
that class of men who can alone satis
fy the controlling section of the Dem
ocratic party. He is the enemy of un
sectarian education, we are told by
the Freeman's Journal, and could
never corsent to send his own chil
dren to the public schools; nor is it
easy to see how, as a devoted Roman
ist, he could possibly approve a sys
tem of instruction which an infallible
Pope has condemned. A liberal and
independent Roman Catholic might
perhaps venture to disobey his foreign
master; an ultramontane is bound by
the strict rules of the Syllabus. It is
Faf'e to infer, therefore, that our new
Senator, though he may tolerate for a
time the American mode of instruc
tion, will destroy it whenever he and
his party have the power. This is the
usual policy of his Church,' and one
that has served to make it ever the
more dangerous to civil society, be
cause it is never to be trusted. No
one can forsee when the Pope will
think it an opportune moment to with
draw the slight degree of free-will he
accords to his people, and may drive
our whole Irish Catholic population
into rebellion against freedom, or lead
them on to the destruction of our
whole system of education.
The Kernans, Kellys, and other
men of that class who now hold tbe
State and city ot New York in subjec
tion, who have succeeded tbe Tweeds
and Sweenys of five years ago, with
apparently even more absolute power,
are the appropriate agents in the cru
sade against knowledge which was be
gun anew by the Vatican Council of
1870. The aim of the Roman Church
is to check that wide flow of intelli
gence which has covered tbe world
with useful inventions, and filled mod
ern races with literary progress. It
would seize upon every school and
college, and forbid them from teach
ing any thing that it docs not approve.
It would chain science, as it once im-
prigoned-Galileo, would suppress let-J
ters, ad persecute a Milton or a
Dante; It would enforce every where
the intense ignorance which has al
ways prevailed in the corrupt atmos
phere f papal Rome, and create sys
tems of education from which the
highest results of modern progress
should be wholly excluded. In our
country, where knowledge has always
been tke chief source of freedom, the
papal and ultramontane policy must
5 rove in future singularly dangerous,
'he moBt imperative and absolute re
quirement of our political system is
general education. For this it clam
on in every section, and this is the
only remedy for the corruptions and
the disorders of the North and the
South: Yet it is against this natural
demand of a growing people that the
ultramontane faction sets itself most
resolutely. Already it has poured out
upon our shores the millions of uned
ucated human beings it has fostered
in Europe in ignorance and driven
from the school-house, and once more,
in the New World, it would prohibit
them from accepting that free oppor
tunity of instruction which is offered
by the common school. While all
European races as well as our own are
thirsting for new draughts of that
knowledge which in the last three
hundred years has already raised
them from barbarism, the Vatican
Council would seize upon the sacred
spring and hide it from the people.
Knowledge is what it chiefly fears.
An absolute Pope has already com
manded every devout Roman Catho
lic to oppose the spread of any educa
tion but his own. He can teach noth
ing but what the Pope sanctions; he
muBt learn only what the Pope allows; :
and we shall no doubt be soon sum
moned to defend at the polls against'
Mr. Kernan and his allies that mag.
nificent system of public instruction
which by the direction of the Pope
they would overthrow. Soon or late
the conflict must come, and the dull
stupor with which the friends of
knowledge have suffered New York to
fall into the hands of its determined
foes will be shaken by a fatal shock.
But possibly the strongest proof
that our ultramontane population are
not good citizens is the fact that they
have insisted on the election of Mr.
Kernan to the Senate upon the plain
ground of his religious tenets. It was
because he was a Roman Catholic that
Tammany Hall urged his election as
Governor in 1872, and it is as a Ro
man Catbolic that he has been pressed
as a candidate for the United States
Senate. The Democracy did not dare
to disobey the commands of their ul
tramontane supporters; the papal fac
tion ameng us have Ehown their pow
er, and are no longer satisfied with
moderate success. Fifty thousand
Irish Catholic voters in New York
city, the blind adherents of a foreign
priest, and as many more in the rural
districts, have carried the State over
to the Democracy, stopped the pro
gress of j&eforni, placed in office nearly
4Ue aanTimeu who jthree" years ago
robbed the pubfto treasury at Albany
aud New York, threaten the interests
of education, and would be satisfied
with no one but Mr. Kernan in the
Senate. They could scarcely have
chosen a better representative. What
ultramoatanism means in American
politics may be seen in the political
career of the new Senator. He has
been tbe 6teady supporter of slavery
and aristocracy. He opposed nlmo-t
every measure for suppressing the re
bellion. When the people of the
North were rising in 1861, Mr. Ker
nan said "he disapproved and con
demned the war spirit at the North."
After Sumpter he yielded for a mo
ment to the popular impulse. In 1802.
in the period of deep depression and
disaster, he was in Congress laboring
to stop the war and save slavery. Like
Seymour, he could not endure the
thought of "freeing four millions of
slaves."." He led the Irish voters of
the State in their incessant attacks
upon Lincoln and Grant, and helped
to prolong the rebellion ky the aid of
bis ultramontane followers. He was
loud at every peace meeting in denun
ciation and threats. When the re
bellion was over, modesty might have
taught him to remain in a close ob
scurity. He forced himself into the
public attention. From 18G5 he is
once more seen laboring to shield
slavery from complete destruction,
and to rebuild anew an aristocracy at
the South, guiding his ultramontane
followers into dangerous course,
threatening the public peace, exciting
the strife of races and of creeds. No
better example of an alien and unpa
triotic leader could be found than Mr.
Kernan; none whose career has been
more clearly marked by the silent in
fluence of his ltoman guides. An en
emy of popular education, of human
equalily, of pure republicanism, the
defender of slavery and of aristocracy,
he is the plainest proof that no ultra
montane, however reputable his pri
vate character, can be safely intrusted
with the administration of American
affairs. He may assume the garb of
freedom, but must ever wear inecret
the chains of Rome.
This is what our Roman Catholic
population will probably discover as
they become educated in American
ideas, and we trust they wilJ them
selves at last admit that their first al
legiance is due to that government
which has given them a shelter from
the sorrows and the tyranny of the
Old World. To the Irish Catholics
especially the examples set by their
Kellys and Kernans should be pecu
liarly odious. Republicanism has
built for them a peaceful home. No
class ot men have profited so largely
from the labors of Washington, Jef
ferson, AdairLincoln. Grant. From
poverty the republic has raised them
to wealth, from slavery to independ
ence. Heretofore, under the guid
ance of Kellys, Kernans, Connollys,
and Sweenys, they have labored for
its destruction; let them with shame
and remorse in future endeavor to re
pair the wrong they have done to free
dom. But .still more odious and dan
gerous to our German population must
be the daring ascendency of the ultra
montanes; they have aided in placing
in office the worst enemies of Ger
many, and may well look back upon
their own conduct with no small re
gret. How, indeed, it is possible for
Germans to vote for ultraniontanes or
the instruments of the papal faction it
is almost impossible to conceive.
What madness is it in the children of
Germany to aid the faction among us
which is now threatening their native
land with desolation, and shaking
Europe with the terrors of a religious
war! Do Germans think that the ul
tramontane in America is at all differ
ent from the ultramontane of Italy or
France? Do they not know that the
Kellys and Kernans whom they, have
placed in power for some poor local
prejudice are the men who in 1870
would have rejoiced had the French
armies swept on to the gates of Berlin,
and who in 1875 are again plotting the
ruin of German independence? There
can be no doubt that the triumph of
ultraraontanism means the ruin of
freedom every where: the fate of
knowledge and of progress hangs sus
pended upon our future elections: if
we are ruled by men whose politics is
f;uided by the Vatican, and whose al
egiance is held by an infallible Pope.'
Europe and America must sink back
into slavery, and the republic perish.
Eugene Lawrence.
Boltfneaa for Christ. r
One of Frederick the Great's best
Generals was Hans Joachim von Zie
ton. He was never ashamed of his
faith. Once he declined an invitation
to come to his royal master's table,
because on that day he wished to pre
sent himself at the table of his Lord
and Master, Jesus Christ. It was a
sacrament day. The next time he ap
peared at the palace, the King, whose
infidel tendencies were well known,
made use of some profane expression's
about the holy communion of the
Lord's Supper, and the other guests
laughed at the remarks made on the
occasion. Zieton shook his gray head
solemnly, stood up, saluted the King,
and then said, with a firm voice:
"Your Majesty knows well that in war
I have never feared any danger, and
everywhere have boldly risked my
life for you and my country. But
there is One above who is greater
than you and me greater than all
men; lie is the Savior and Redeemer,
who has died also for your Majesty,
and has dearly bought us all with his
own blood. This Holy One I can
never allow to be mocked or insulted;
for on him repose my faith, my com
fort, and my hope in life or death. In
the power of this faith your brave ar
my has courageously fought and con
quered. If your Majesty undermine
this faith you determine at the same
time the welfare of your state. I
silute your Majesty." Thi3 open con
fession of his Savior by Zieton made
a powerful impression on the king.
He felt that he had been wrong in his
attack on the faith of his General, and
he was not ashamed to acknowledge
it. He gave his hand to Zieton his
right band, placing the left on the old
man's shoulder and said, with emo
tion, "Oh, happy Zieton ! How 1
wish I could also believe it ! I have
the greatest respect for you. This
shall never happen to you again.?
The king then rose from the table,
dismissed his other guests, but said to
Zieton, "Come with me into my cabi
net." What passed in the conference,
with closed doors, between the great
king and his great general no one has
ever learned; but this we know, lU&t
the Lord's own words were verified So
Zieton : "Whosoever shall confers
me before men, him will I confess oe-
fore my Father which is in heaven."
British Workman.
For the Benefit or Talkers.
"This man was talked to death."
Silence never yet betrayed any one.
-Rivarol.
Speech is time. Silence is of eter-
! nity. Carlyle.
hiven a tool, when he holdcth his
peace, is counted wise. Bible.
We speak little, if not egged on by
vanity. Rouchefoucauld.
None preaches better than the ant,
and she says ncthing. Franklin.
If thou desire to be held wise, be
so wise as to hold thy tongue. Quar
les. 1 prefer the wisdom of the un
learned to the folly of the loquacious.
rCicero.
Not every one who has the gift of
speech understands the value ot si
lence. Lavater.
Learn to hold thy tongue. Five
words cost Zacharias forty weeks'
silence. Fuller.
Those who have few affairs to at
tend to are great speakers. The less
men think the more they talk. Mon
tesquieu. A person that would secure to him
self great deference will, perhaps, gain
'1- 1 ri rr . ii
nis point oy suence as eneciuauy as
by anything he can say. Shenstone.
There are many who talk of igno
rance rather than of knowledge, and
who find the former an inexhaustible
fund of conversation. Hazlitt.
Talkers and futile persons are com
monly vain and credulous withal; for
he that talketh what he knoweth will
; also talk what he knoweth not.
! Bacon.
JJrisk talkers are usually slow
thinkers. There is, indeed, no wild
beast more to be dreaded than a com
municative man having nothing to
communicate. Swift.
The talkative listen to no one, for
they are ever Bpeaking. And the first
evil that attends those who know not
how to be Filent is, that they hear
nothing. Plutarch.
No man takes less pains than to
hold his tongue. Hear much and
speak little, for the tongue is the in
strument of the greatest good and
greatest evil that is done in the world.
Sir Walter Ralieigh.
The Calendar Clarified.
January was originally called Ginu
ary, because taken warm within to
counferact cold without.
February was anciently called Fib
uary, on account of the lovers' per
juries uttered on Valentine's day.
March took its name from the fact
that it drills us into holes with pierc
ing east winds.
April owes its denomination to the
Saxon ape and rill, because during
this month it rains cats and dogs and
monkeys.
May may have been called May
mainly because may-day may fall may
hap on the first of the month.
June is so named because it comet
after the first five months of ihe year,
and is, therefore, June-ior to them
July is denominated July, because
you will see the heavy dew lie on the
grass during this month.
August is superlatively entitled to
this nomenclature, because, though
all the other months may possibly be
very Aug (whatever that means), this
is the August of the lot. (This was
an aug-ward question to settle.)
September was originally oalled
Suptember, because the evenings be
gin to draw in about the hour at
which people indulge in the pleasant
dui unwnoiesome meat Known as sup
per. ,
October is derived from the Ger
mans, and is so named because it is
the month in which the English brew -
Deer, and the uermans make ock.
November ip, as we know, called
November for no reason in particular. :
December owes to Christmas bills
the name it derives, from ?,"d's" in
which naterfamiliea indnlcea aa the
small accounts file in. Ex. f!l
When a Connecticut deacon nudged "
a somnolent Worshiper with the con
tribution box. the sleepy individual
awoke partially, smiled, murmured,
"I don t smoke !" and dropped off
again. .. -. .. ,
We can point you out a Michigan
woman who refused to go to a festival
because she wanted to darn her hus
band's socks. A similar case was
heard of in New Ynrlr KtiUuBia fifW
..... - K ii ,C - $
aaut wu naa uuit wDivaaiurnu'
cated. - '- '-
; "--Pi
The Indiana Democracy is willing
enough to assume responsibility in
regard to filling the offices, but when;
called to account for the failure of;
legislation and the betrayal of politi-
ical promises it pleads the baby act. :
A young fellow in San Francisco
suddenly snatched a kiss from a lady'
friend, and excused his conduct by
saying that it was a sort of temporary
insanity that now and then came upon
him. .When he arose to take his
leave, the pitying damsel said to him : .
"If you ever feel any more such fits
coining on, you had better come right
here, where your infirmity is known,
and we will take care of you."
The Democrats have been telling
the people for years past, that the Re-
Kublican party must be held resnonsi
le for the acts of . the Republican
Congress, but they strenuously object
to the Democratic party of Indiana
being held responsible for the acts of
a Democratic Legislature. It is a
poor rule that won't work both way". ,
Miss Anna Dickinson is to lecture
at Steinway Hall upon the subject
eunhuistically described as the social
evil. This is probably the first time
that a young lady ever undertook to
instruct the public upon this theme;
but if she has any light to shed upon
it, by all means let her have the op
portunity. Stamp Tour Chech and Voucher.
In accordance "with the "little tariff
bill," all checks on banks, or any pa
per that serves as a voucher on which
money is paid at bank, either time or
demand, must be stamped and the
stamp cancelled with initials and date.
The penalty for each offense is a fine
ot $50, and it applies alike to the
drawer and the bank. . .
The . foreigners io. Conges? aggre
gated liftectu Schurz, ' the German;
and J ones X ae- Welch man, comprise
the Senators; and ia f?v J?uue wre
five Irishmen, four Scwtehmen. two
Englishmen, a Canadian and a Mexi
can. A Benatimi Tribate.
With more ex Confederates in
the next Congress than Union
soldiers, it is cheering; to the latter
that their services for the Union
cause is still remembered here and
there throughout the country,
although as things are progressing,
it will not be long ere they will be
called upon to apologize for taking
up arms to prevent the dismember
mentof tliecountry. The following
tribute to the occupant of a "name
less grave" is from the pen of
Henry W. Longfellow:
A soldier of the LTniou mustered out,"
Is the inscription of an unknown grave .
At Newport News, beside tbe salt sea wave,
Nameless and dateless. Sentinel or scout.
Shut down In sklriaMsh, or disastrous rout
Of battle when the loud artillery drave
Its Iron wedges through the ranks of brave
And doomed battalions storming the
redoubt!
Thou unknown hero, sleeping by the sea
In tliy forgotten grave! with secret shame
I feel my pulses beat, my forehead burn;
When I remember thou hast given for me
All that thou hast, thy life, thy very name.
And I cafa give thee nothing in return.
" 1 B oho 1 "
The following is a summer epi
sode, as evolved by little Johnny:
"ijast summer our dog Towser
was a lyin in the sun a trine to
sleep, but the flies was that bad be
cuddent, cos be had to catch era,
and bime by a bee lit on his bed,
and was a working about like the
doer was hisn. Towser be hl hia
hed still, and when the bee was
close to his nose, Towser winked
at me, like he said you see what
this duffer is a doin' he thinks I'm
a lillyof the valley which isn't
open yet, but you just wait till I
blossom and you will see some fnn,
and sure enuf. Towser opened his
mouth ver slo so as not to friten
the bee, and the bee . went into
Towser's month. Then Towser he
shet his eyes dreamy, and his
month too, and bad begun to make
a peacefle smile wen the bee stung
bim, and you never see . a lilly of
the valley ack so in all your life."
Beigham Young's Ann Eliza suc
ceeded so well in her application
for a divorce and alimony last week
as to obtain an order of the court
allowing her $3,000 a month : as
alimony pending the trial of the
cause. As the complaint has been
pending about twenty months, it
will prove something of a draueht
out of tbe Prophet's exchequer.
The court further ordered him to
pay into court $3,000 for her attor
neys fees. Another Mormon polyg
amist named Reese, whose first
wife sued for a divot ce and alimonv. '
was ordered by the court to pay
$1,500 for attorneys fees and $2,000
a year alimony, pending the
The Pone has msds an imnnrtant
concession to Prussia; no less a
thing than to acquiesce to the law
which hM o-ivan Hha In all fhn
trouble with the church there.
rooaUaaT Oaalttfea.
The question that 'mosfl interests
the feeder is, whether the stock be
is seeking to buy, or thai be is rain
ing, will pay the cost of purcbas-.
and care bestowed in fattening, and
still leave a amre margin of : profit.
beyondJ Apfntode and accuracy in
judging the lean animal, ins r'.&pect
to its power of laving on flesh, be
comes one of the most critical
studies witb " the feeder. For,
giving an awmal good point", tbe
cost price, and value of c the food,
he can take chances on the outcome
that no person not a judge would
dare do. Hence the difference in
price paid on two lots of battle that,
to the uneducated eye, looked
nearly . or quite : alike. The differ
ence lies in the make up of the
animal. The whole thing ' really
hinges; to" great'-'eatent, on fice"
ness of bone, fu if 'thia be present,
the other paints arc pretty Btire not
to beladung..p.j'ir ?
,The principal accompaniments of
fineness of bone are a small bead,
delicate horn, whether long, me
dium or short; a: rather I thin ear;
full, mild eye and fine muzzle; the
legs small below the knee and hock
joints, with an r appearance of
shortness between the knee and the
hock and fetlock joints. 1 ' Tbe body
should - be smoth and rounded,
showing no abrupt angularity.
The taUr however large at its inser
tion, should taper down and be
small : below the rump. The hip
should be long; ihe loin broad: the
brisket deep, and the hide pie! low
to the touch. k. ,
An animal may have fine points
otherwise, and ;yet be unprofitable
if it be either nervous or ill tern
pered. That they be "not, so is
judged principally by the eye and
sliape of the forehead. 'The eye
must be large, mild and full, toler
ably prominent and well open. If
small, dull, sunken or only half
opened, reject it. '
The head should be broad above
the eye, neither indented nor
prominent, with a .medium height
between the eyes and . horns; the
neck delicate . next the head, and
especially in ' the throat, swelling
gradually fo where it enters tbe
shoulders, developing a large bria
ket; for although the brisket is not
a valuable part of itself, a promi
nent brisket is one of - the indica
tions of a good feeder; but while
this part should be broad, full and
deep, it should not be flabby or
baggy. 'If it be firm, , no . matter
what its sice; there is money in it
to the feeder. s
Now if tbe breeder or feeder, in
addition ' to so critical a jduty of
points as to enable him to . Jij"?jje
correctly of the feeding qualities of
animals, be also so humane that be
never allows - an animal to bs
abused' under, any circumstances,
he has' determined the principal
points to be observed' in th.6 feed
ing and care of animals. The ice
forth, if he calculates correctly on
present and prospective - values,
success is certain.
A atojr PalMfer.
The Brussels correspondent of
the Pall Mall Gazette writes: 4A
marvelous exhibition is taking
place at the Cercle ArtUtique et
Litteraire at Brussels. Some
months ago Frederick van de
Herkhove, the son of a corn mer
chant at Bruges, died at the age
of 10 years. He had always been
sickly, and waB therefore not sent
to school, but allowed ; to roam
about. ' His chief ainnsrnieut was
to paint with such rough painting
materials as he could procure. The
paintings left by bim, of which
about 100 are now exhibited at tho
Cercle, were discovered since his
death to be productions which the
best landscape painters of the age
would not. disown. , In Brussels
good judges of art are astonished
that an untutored child should
have equaled and even surpassed
some of the most celebrated mas
ters. In all those of the pictures
where there is a river, m little boy
is introduced in tbe act of angling,
representing, of course, the de
ceased. Large sums have already
been offered for the collection, but
refused."
Jnstiee in Texas.
The Denton (Texas) Monitor
says: 'We are informed by Mr.
David Ware that the book keeper in
the house of the Head Brothers,
whose nafe was robbed of $3,000,
at McKinney. not long since, was
suspected as the rebbor. Accord
ingly a number of men arrested the
book keeper, took bim to a grave
yard near by, tied his hands
behind him, and told bim they
intended to hang him if he did not
"own up" and tell where tbe nony
was. He solemnly protested f,
them that he knew nothing of the
robbery. Tee rope was adjusted
around his neck. Again be declnr
ed ' bis innocence. It was thrown
over a limb; the book keeper was
drawn up from the ground, and he
dangled between heaven ard earth,
twisting and writhing in pain.
Soon, however, they let him down.
When i he revived he alleged his
innocence with undaunted vehe
mence. Again he was buag and
let down, and again be declared
hi innocence, fifteen times during
the night Finaly, when it was
found tliat he would not confess-, a
number of six shooters were Hunt
ed at his bead, and a promise ex
torted from him that never again
would he put his foot on the soil of
MaKtmnej a&4 Collin Qounty.