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Vol. 3. No. 30. Stillwater, Minn., Thursday, March 6,159 Q. MINNESOTA. LUCY 1.. SPAULDING. Sister-cities, on the shore Of the father-river hoar. You’ve a sturdy race, to rear Palaces of ice for cheer. Fashion for your daring pleasure Frozen road-ways, where the measure Of the race horse would be slow. Such a bounding, burning glow Leaps into the cheek Milder climes in vain may seek. Eager, eager play and work. Naught ol hardship do j ou shirk. ’Tis no time for dreaming fane ea, ’Tis no time for languid glances. Yet a poet’s time s jours Though the winter long endures. Many a soft and golden hour Minnesota holds in dower Wh te and frozen now she lies Under stinging winter skies. But her heart is warm and deep. And the pearly blossoms sleep Hidden in her loving breast Sweet their waking, long caressed. Tenderness with n her springs, Off her snowy cloak she flings, Turns to heaven a smiling face. All austereness changed to grace. Lakes and skies of purest blue. Greenest fields e'er bathed in dew. Lingering tw lights never known To the brilliant southern zone, Air that breathes a mother's kiss, Bird-songs of melodious bliss-- Dearer is the J.»y of spring For the winter’s buffeting. —Minneapolis Spectator. He Talk*. One evening last week as 1 was leaning comfortably back in my recliningcbair enjoy ing the luxury of perfect rest after a day of hard toil, the editor came to my cell and be gan to lecture me on the enormity of my offense in thus idling away time that should be devoted to mental improvement. Ihe cell door was securely locked, and as no possible hope of escape presented itself, I attempted to palliate my conduct by de scribing the nature and amount of work I had accomplished during the day; but he interrupted me with a contemptuous “Oh bosh!” and continued his lecture with a persistency that proved him a tireless if not a brilliant talker. The monotonous flow of words continued uninterruptedly for at least two hours, and as he finished the recital of that ancient poem descriptive of the busy bee working the morning flower and cleared his throat preparatory to resum ing his theme. I hastened to thank him for his brief (?) though highly edifying dis course, and assured him I would profit by the valuable lesson he had taught me and endeavor to make amends for past negli gence by unremitting industry in the future. “Prove your sincerity,” said he. “by writ ing an article for next week’s Mirror.” 1 detest writing: even to write a letter is a task I abhor, but “Self-preservation is the first law of nature.” and in fear lest he had more lecture in reserve which lie would un scrupulously use to force me to comply with his request, I weakly consented, and asked him upon what subject I should write. “Oh, anything.” he replied, “so that it contains a moral.” My stock of morals was low. but to gain a respite I dissembled and told him writing stories with a moral attachment was my forte, and it he would kindly take his departure, that I might have perfect quiet, which was essential to profound thought.l would immediately begin my task. The result is the following TRUE STORY IN REAL LIFE. (with a moral.) Many years ago. when a youth of nine teen. 1 was in the employ of a lumber com pany in the city of B ~ in an adjoining state. I had the confidence and respect of my employers: was temperate and industri ous in my habits, and everything indicated that I would journey through lif®, a useful and exemplary member of society. Among my acquaintances were two young men whose chief pleasure in life was in playing practical jokes. I was fond of the society of these bright, witty young men, and en- joyed their pranks and jokes with keen zest —when played upon others. One Sunday morning as I was preparing tor church these young men entered my room and in vited me to join them in a day’s fishing. Previous to this my fishing experience had been limited to that of catching minnows with a dip net; and as 1 had not found the sport very exciting. I politely declined their invitation and exhorted them to forego their amusement until a more suitable occasion and not desecrate the Lord’s day in such unholy pursuits. My exhortation had not the desired effect, for they made an eloquent plea in defense of fishing, and when they concluded, 1 was convinced that fishing was not only a highly moral pastime, but was also peculiarly appropriate to the Sabbath, so I consented to accompany them and we immediately set out and in due time arrived at the place previously agreed upon for our day’s recreation. The fish seemed plentiful and my com panions soon had several landed. 1 thought them a villainous looking fish, and so ex pressed myself, but my young friends laughed at what they called my ignorance of such matters, and imparted the informa tion that the fish in question were brook trout and were highly esteemed as a table delicacy. As we were fishing in a slough 1 was tempted to seek further information by asking what eccentricity of nature caused brook trout to inhabit such waters, but in fear of showing further ignorance and bringing upon 1115 self the ridicule ol niv com panions, 1 remained silent. When the time arrived for us to return to our boarding place my friends suggested that as 1 was a novice in the art of fishing it would redound to my credit and establish for me a reputation as a skillful angler should I carry the entire “catch” home as the result of my own effort; but I refused to take advantage of their generosity by taking credit to myself for deeds not my own. It was them proposed that we draw lots for the honor, and when they assured me it was not gambling I gave assent. In the drawing that ensued I was the fortunate one, and tuy friends magnanimously congratulated me on my good luck, and kindly arranged the fish in the most convenient manner for earn ing—placing the largest fish (which according to their estimate was an eight pound trout) conspicuously on the outside of the “string.” On our homeward journey my compan ions walked on in advance and I observed them stop frequently to converse wit ii mu tual acquaintances. These acquaintances would also stop to converse with me—ask ing questions as to tl.e probable weight of tlie fish, where they were caught, etc. lat first felt embarrassed at answering these questions, but 1 received so many compli ments on the fine string of fish, that my customary assurance returned, and fearing my young friends had made too low an es timate of the weight of the largest of the trout, 1 increased the weight from eight to ten pounds. When 1 reached my boarding place I found my fame had preceded me for the boarders were assembled in the sit ting room and as 1 entered they gathered around me and plied me with questions for fully three quarters of an hour; and the miserable hoax of which I was the victim was only brought to an end when a crusty old bachelor roared out: “Young man. you are an ass! and have been the dupe of those young scamps, who have caused you to ap pear a greater fool than nature originally intended, by your stupidity in carrying a lot of worthless fish through the principal streets of the city.” Those words brought me to a full realiza tion of how completely I had been duped. 1 now recalled the significant winks of my companions when casting lots; I remem bered the looks of astonishment, and half suppressed mirth of my questioners when 1 spoke of the miserable gar fish as a ten pound trout. The thought of how ridiculous 1 had been made to appear created within me a desire for vengeance, and “on murderous thoughts intent” 1 looked around for my persecutors, but they had tied. 1 rushed out of the house, and ait 111 at long summer afternoon I wandered about the outskirts of the city like a guilty being, even the sounds of mirth of little children at play I imagined to be laughter at me and my folly. I resolved to leave the city, for my sensi tive nature shrank from the thought of the ridicule 1 would be subjected to. When I had come to this conclusion I went to a hotel, engaged a room and retired for the night. Early next morning I went to mv employers and told them I had received “ IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO MEND.” news which made it imperative for me to return home immediately, and as my absence would be indefinite it would be necessary for them to secure a man in my stead. They expressed regret at my leaving their service, but paid me my salary in full aud gave me a letter of recomeudation vouching for my honesty and general good moral character. I next engaged an express wagon, went to my boarding place and secured my luggage; and before the noon hour had past I was speeding away on a railway train—not for home, as I had falsely told, but to a distant city; and from that day until I became the enforced guest of the great state of Min nesota I was without a settled place of abode. So strong had this roving habit become that years of luxurious living, at a cost of twelve cents per day, has not entirely erad icated tlie longing to again mingle with my fellowmen—to come and go as I pleased— and at times I feel that 1 could leave my present comfortable quarters and my puis sant friend, the prison hash, without a re gret, and be content the remainder of my life with porter house steak, hot rolls, etc., and tlie freeman's most cherished preroga tive. Liberty. But it is not to be. The officers’ have learned to know and appreciate my worth and will not consent to part with me. and so I can only regret the folly and lack of moral courage that caused me to leave a situation, which, had I retained. I would to day have been a respectable mem ber of society and had. at least, a compe tence laid by for old age. This tale teaches us that an apparently trivial incident will often influence our whole life for good or for evii. Beware then of the first wrong step; never be turned from the path of duty by tlie cajolery or per suasion of others; avoid deceit and untruth fulness; for all lies, white or black, are based upon wrong and can only cause wrong in their consequences. On the other hand, as Frederick Gerhard says: “The love of truth is one of tlie bases of self-contentment, as well as of the respect which we demand from others. Tlie high est object of our life is tlie search after truth, and the Inve of truth is our supreme happiness; it teaches us to live and act righteously. Truth is always self evident and harmonious in itself, and can never be contradicted. All untruth is unceitain. in coherent, and full of contradictions, lead ing from one inconsistency to another. Truth makes a good impression at once; an untruth, no matter how cleverly it is uttered, will arouse at once susp cion. Truth is that sacred standard of our moral ity which nobody can violate without de grading his own dignity. A man whose love for truth is not above doubt is at once looked upon with susp cion, no matter how superior may be his gifts of intellect. For we never know whether he sDeaks truth or falsehood, whether lie uses his words for our benefit or for our disadvantage. On tlie other hand, a man of less brilliant and in tellectual gifts. in whose veracity we may trust, will always be esteemed as a fiiend and counselor or companion.” M—. Crimes and Criminals—Degradation. “There is no reformation in degradation. To mutilate a criminal is to say to all the woild that lie is a criminal, and to render his reformation substantially impossible. Whoever is degraded by society becomes its enemy. The seeds of malice are sown in his heart and to the day of his death he will hate the hand that sowed the seed.” Such is the language of Colonel lngersoll in his address to tlie Bar Association at Au burn, N. Y.. Jan. 21, 1890. There are, in mv opinion, several ways by which men placed in tlie criminal category are degraded. When for the first time a poor unfortunate finds himself entangled in the meshes of the law, and is forced to stand at the bar of justice to answer to a charge of crime, without friends or money to help him, he is degraded by the public press, who anticipate the proof of his guilt, open up his past ca reer, regardless of how bright it may have been, twist and turn it in every possible shape so as to cast a cloud of suspicion around linn and thus mould public opinion against him ere he lias time to plead to the charge of which he is accused. The state degrades him by having a grand jury system by which he is indicted without being heard Rive Gents. in his own defense. How many causes of action, 1 ask, would be squashed in the grand jury 100 m it only tlie accused were given tlie opportunity of submitting either by counsel or otherwise Ii is side of the ques tion. and how many scenes of sorrow and heart-breakings, which are witnessed period ically in our halls of justice, would be re moved if only our lawmakers would deprive prosecutors—or I should say more truth! ully, persecutors —from submitting men to the degradation of a trial where there is no probable cause of action, j/lie state again degrades him by bringing him to trial, en gaging tlie talent of tlie bar against him and refusing him tlie slightest help whereby he might secure tlie necessary w itnesses for his defence and prove h.s innocence; and de grades him still further by exposing him to the ridicule of tlie community by appoint ing some tin horn lawyer to defend him, who lias neither character nor capability and who in the majority of instances finds as much satisfaction 111 a verdict of guilty as otherwise. The law’ degrades him by the imposition of a penalty fourfold that which tlie justice of tlie case only requires. Let me for tlie purpose of illustration take the case ot a young man who lias never been accused of crime before or been behind prison bars, lie is accused of forgery for a small amount, indicted in the second de gree, tiied and found guilty, and the law before whose justice and majesty every knee must bow, commands that the penalty tor this comparatively trivial offense be not less than five or more than ten jears. Will tlie infliction of tins terrible penalty prove a determent to this >oung man and a safe guard to society? 1 say emphatically, No! Ninety da>s in the workhouse might prove to him a worthy and a profitable lesson, but let him once be dressed in the convict’s garb aud tiis name Handed down to pos terity as an ex conv.ct; let him for five or ten years associate with and become the companion ot tlie hardened criiu.uals of the country, listen to their tales of life long crime enlarged in many instances to suit the tastes of their audience; pick up and be come an expert in tlie use ot their low slang, aud that young man will come forth from that prison home—not as one clad in tlie ar mor of reformation and in his hand the sword ot God's justice, mercy and love, pre pared to begin with lenewed vigor tlie bat tle of life—but as one of the most dangerous and confirmed criminal that was ever let loose upon society. Because, in the first place, llie state sowed tlie seed of revenge in his heart by refusing him aid necessary to prove his innocence, thereby teaching him that poverty, not forgery, was his crime, and in tlie next place degrading him to the low level and companionship ot the habitual criminal at whose apt knee he has learned tlie art of crime. But is there any remedy for this unfortu nately existing injustice? Certainly there is if it be only administered. In the first place tlie law should have it a criminal of fense for any newspaper to treat on any casestib jud.ee bejond tlie publication of tlie bare facts of the case. It should remodel our grand jury system so as to adow tlie ac cused to be heard in Ins defense before an indictment is found against him. and at his trial it should help him in every possible way to procure the necessary witnesses to save Ins reputation from that unjust strain with which it is thieatened. What a terrible injustice it is to drag an innocent young man to the bar of public justice and because he is poor and friendless there brand him as a felon, wreck his life, throw him aside as an unclean thing without a soul to save, and make ot him not a convict but a criminal. Again, why cannot the law have for the accused a defender, as it lias for tlie state a prosecutor, elected and re munerated in tlie same manner as tlie state law officers are? Thus a respectable and able man would be found who would interest himself 111 seeing that justice in every par ticular would be rendered to all those ac cused of crime, the guilty would be justly punished, the innocent set free, the cry of j'haine that has in the past gone up period ically in our courts of justice from the lips of Virtue as repiesented by moral law, would be changed into a hymn of thanksgiving, and the tears which she has shed over the loss of her innocents, changed into that bright smile of recognition and love which she has ever cast as a mantle of protection o’er the innocent soul. Innisfai.len. The tale bearer and the tale hearer should both be hung up back to back, one by tlie tongue and the other by the ear.— South.