Newspaper Page Text
tljc |lnoon JlUtTor.
Vol. 5. No. 18. TURKEY. Bird of two meats—the brown, the white— Which like the dual tribes unite, And in a single body run; Of tints diverse, in substance one. Bail to thy bosom broad and puffed! Plump as a maiden’s, cotton stuffed. Hall to thy drumsticks, dainties fine. That served as “devils” seem divine! Hail to thy sidebones!—rich morceaux— And thy ecclesiastic nose. Which, to the laws of order blind, Nature has queerly placed behind: "Yet scoffers vow they fitness see In nose of bishop following thee. And hint that evey nose of priest Turns eagerly toward savory feast. Bethinks 1 see a dish borne in O'er-canopied with shining tin. From ’neath which dome a vapor rare -Curls through the hospitable air. Presto! up goes the burnished lid. And le, the bird, its concave hid! I see thee browned from crest to tail— Bird of two meats, all hail! all hail! Thro''thy round breast the keensteel glides; Rich ichor irrigates thy sides. “Dressing,” to give the slices zest. Rolls from thy deep, protuberant chest, "Then, tunnelling, in search of “cates,” The spoon thy “innards” excavates, And forth, as from a darksome mine. Brings treasures for which gods might'pine. Bird of the banquet! what to me Are all the birds of melody? Thy “merry thought” far more I love Than merriest music of the grove. And in thy “gobble.” deep and clear, Thy gourmand's shibboleth 1 hear! Of all earth’s dainties there is none Like thee to thank the Lord upon; And so receive thy votive lay. Thou Soveriegn Bird of Thanksgiving Day! —Good Housekeeping. Boy*, We Have Been Paying for Water. What has science said and what is she saying in more modern times on the ques tion of fact in relation to strong drink and its effect on the world of life? She has spoken to the government of this country, stating that “the fatal effect of the frequent use of several sorts of distilled spirituous liquors upon great numbers of both sexes is to render them diseased, not fit for business, poor, a burthen to them selves and neighbors, and too often the cause of weak, feeble, and distempered children, who must be, instead of an ad vantage and strength, a charge to their country.” In other words, one explains that strong liquors, though called spiritu ous, are so far from refreshing and re cruiting the spirits, that, on the contrary, they do in reality, depress and sink them and' extinguish the natural warmth ot the blood. “All that is true,” you say; “but the argument is so far against excessive use.” We all admit that argument; doctors admit that universally; statesmen admit it; sta tisticians prove that; clergymen who are not abstainers express that; nay, the very sellers of strong drinks, the gentlemen who sell wholesale, and the publicans who dis pense for the gentlemen, they, too, admit the solemn, unanswerable truth, that strong drink kills. We therefore need no sphinx to inform us of what is universally ad mitted. This, however, we do want to know. We desire to be informed what is to be said on the moderate use of these agents. Let abuse of them go to the wall; let us stand forth alone, and let us hear what place this strong drink holds in rela tion to man and animals—what place it holds in nature—what good it is for man— what bad, when it is used in moderation. Let us have the for and against. The request is justice itself. There can be no objection whatever to put the answer of science to the “for” as well as the “against.” Let us begin by looking at the interpreta tions of science in her latest teachings as to the nature of strong drinks. On this point all are now agreed who speak scientifically. Por many ages wine was looked upon as a distinct drink, as a something apart alto gether from water. Strong wine will take fire; water will quench fire. Wine has a color and sparkles in the glass; water is colorless and clear as crystal. Wine has taste and flavor and odor; water is taste less and odorless. Wine is the blood of the grape, and in some respects seems akin to blood of man; water is of all things least like blood. Wine when drunken makes the face flush, the eyes sparkle, the heart leap, the pulses sharp, the veins full; water when drunken does none of these acts, and seems ■to do nothing but respond to the natural wish for drink. Wine makes the lips and Stillwater, Minn., Thursday, Noy. 19,1891. tongue parched and dry, the drinker athirst; water keeps the lips and tongue and stomach moist, and quenches the thirst of the drinker. Wine when it is taken, sets all the passions aglow and chills the reason; bids men enjoy and reason not; water cre ates no stir of passion, and the reason free. Wine makes for itself a first and second and third and fourth claim on the drinker, so that the more of it he takes the more of it he desires; it is overwhelming in the warmth of its friendship;- water sates the drinker after one draught; makes no further claim ou him than is just consistent with its duty; leads him never to take more and more; and has no seeming warmth in its friendship. Wine multiplies itself into many forms, which appear to be distinct; it is new, it is old; it is sweet, it is sour; it is sharp, it is soft; it is sparkling, it is still; water is ever the same. Wine must be petted and cherished, stored up in special caves, styled by particular names, praised under special titles, and heartily liked or disliked, like a child of passion; water, pshaw! it is everywhere;'it has one name, no more; it has one quality; it hurries away out of the earth by brooks and rivulets and rivers into the all absorbing sea, where it is undrinkable; or it pours dowu from the clouds as if the gods were tired of it; “it is no child of passion!” Let the cattle, and the dogs, and the wild beasts alone drink water. Let the man have the overpower ing drink, the blood of the grape—wine! Alas! for this poetic dream. Science, poetic, too. in her way. but passionless, de stroys in those crucibles of hers, which men call laboratories, this flimsy dream. There she tells that, when one or two dis guises are removed, even blood is water; as to wine, that is mere dirty water—six teen bottles or cups or any other equal measures of water, pure and simple, from the clouds and earth, to one poor bottle or cup of a burning, fiery fluid which has been called ardent spirit of wine, or alcohol, with some little coloring matter, in certain cases a little acid, in other cases a little sugar, and in still other cases a little cinder stuff. It is a pitiful fall, but it is such, and sci ence not only declares it, but it proves it so to be. A pitiful let-down, that men throughout all ages who have called them selves wine-drinkers have been water-drink ers after all; that men who have called themselves wine-merchants have been wa ter-merchants; that men who have bought, and still buy, wines at fabulous prices have been buying, and still are buying, water. A dozen champagne, bought at cost of twenty-seven dollars, very choice —I am speaking by the book —consisted, when it was all measured out, of three hundred ounces, or fifteen pints of fluid, of which fluid thirteen pints and a half were pure water, the rest ardent spirit, with a little carbonic acid, some coloring matter like burnt sugar, a light flavoring ether in al most infinitesimal proportion, or a trace of cinder stuff. Science, looking on dispas sionately, records merely the facts. If she thinks that twenty seven dollars was a heavy sum to pay for thirteen pints and a half of spirit, she says nothing; she leaves that to the men and women of sentiment and passionate feeling, buyers and sellers and drinkers all around. Rameous. “Does It Pay To Be Crooked?” From a purely wordly standpoint, I ask, Does it pay to be crooked? I am confident that my readers will join me in giving this question a most emphatic no. Then why remain so? I will leave the reader to answer this last question for himself —as it is not the purpose of this article to show why criminals remain such —and will confine myself to the question, “Does it pay to be crooked?” In the first place, have we ever found any real pleasure or enjoyment in knocking about the country, risking life and limb in riding the trucks of a fast freight or suffeiing untold miseries from exposure? And we do all this for for what? A mere existance —it cannot be called a liv ing—and a miserable one at that. Then to -think of the weary years of imprisonment consequent on crime. Let us see how much time the average criminal would serve (meaning only those who follow this life as a profession). I will not hesitate to say they will pass fully three-fifths of their lives in prison, and consider this a rather lenient estimate if we figure from the time they begin their careers, counting alsb the time they spent in county jails and work houses. “ IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO MEND.” To sum up the whole, what is it? To be deprived of one’s liberty for three fifths of his life, forced to do the bidding of those in whose charge he may be. with sure and certain punishment awaiting every infrac tion of their orders. And the other two fifths, what kind of a life is it? It needs no rehearsal here. W e all know that it is only a miserable excuse for a living, but we are loath to admit the hard facts. " Now, to make a synopsis of our own lives: three fifths of it spent in penal servitude, the remainder spent in irregular ities and excesses of every kind, part of the time not being able to secure a change of linen unless stolen; unable to look an hon est person in the face without hanging our heads; continually slipping dowu side streets and through alleys to avoid meeting officers of the law. To place this picture along side of the life of an honest citizen; to be able to come and go at pleasure without fear of the law; with no fear of getting “hours” to leave town, etc., and if not sur rounded with luxuries, at least with enough of this world’s comforts to make life pleas ant and enjoyable. Can we now say it pays to be crooked? Is it not, on the other hand, infinitely bet ter to choose some legitimate means of live lihood, where we may be able to look to the law for protection instead of being con stantly in fear of its iron hand? In con clusion let me ask, does it pay to be crook ed? If any of my readers think or imagine it does, let me say to them, think twice. Francis. How to Go to Sleep. As a rule it is persons of nervous tem peraments who are most troubled with in somnia, although I have known those of a lymphatic and even sanguine temperament who, like Macbeth, heard the voice as it cried to all the house, “Sleep no mure! Glamis hath murdered sleep; and therefore Cawder shall sleep no more.” Most per sons, if you ask them for a cure for sleep lessness, will say to you, “Think of noth ing after going to bed. Lie down and go to sleep.” But as a person’s countenance never ex presses so much as when they try to appear unconscious, so the harder they try to think of nothing the more will their thoughts run riot. Everyone knows the soothing effect the patter of rain on the shingles has on the sleeper. I’ve known old sailors who were unable to sleep on land unless some one would aid in cheating them into the fancy that they were on the “rolling deep” by throwing water against the sides of the house while they slept. It is a modification of this scheme that the writer has. for a number of years, followed with success, and which he now offers to the public in hopes that it may fill a long felt want. If upon retiring you are unable to sleep, just assume your most comfortable position; turn your pillow so as to get the cool side of it; then imagine yourself seated in a boat that is noiselessly propelled against a gentle and undulating current that flows with rhythm of soft music—like woman’s half heard tone—between verdant banks that are canopied with overhanging boughs through which the breezes permeated with the most delicious perfumes, chime their unwearied canticles and seem to murmur, peace, sweet peace. Or you may vary the conditions so they will minister to others of the senses than that of hearing. You may with the mind’s eye behold the beauties of nature and “hold communion with her visi ble forms.” The blushing violet and the modest daisy, and all the other stars of the field are always bedecked in their bridal ar ray. Eden of imagination all seasons are summer. Or if you prefer the more rugged forms of nature, “Those armed giants that on the skies take hold,” you can imagine yourself floating by the base of some tower ing battlement, on top of which mayhap some heroine stands with torch in hand to light her loved Leander o’er the waves. And thus in imagination you are wafted away on the bosom of this river of Lethe, out on the sea of Oblivion, into the harbor of Forgetfulness, situated in the land of Nod. Lacon. Why is it easy to break into an old man’s bouse? Because his locks are few and his gate is broken.—Texas Siftings. V Sectarian Control of Schools. There is no need to enter at length upon the debate which a few persons have started over the transfer of the school buildings at Faribault and at Stillwater. We are glad to notice, in many ways, a weakening of the lines of prejudice and fanaticism that have made, in the past, any temperate and logical discussion on the subject almost use less. Both sides are learning wisdom, tol eration and the virtue of concession. The time was when the Protestaut insjsted on the reading of the Bible in the public school as an absolutely necessary condition; and the Pioneer Press shared in the general outburst of wrath that greeted the proposition to abolish it. But now the courts have en forced the principle, and the public not only acquiesces in it, but approves it as a corol lary and consequence of non sectarian edu cation. The time was, too, when the Cath olic body would have resented the mere idea that it should consent to remove from any church building the visible insignia of the faith, throw out its own text-books and adopt those prescribed by the state, and conform in all external particulars to the public school established by law. There is thus a distinct gain on both sides, and a piomise of that future coming together which we believe to be inevitable. At the same time, while we doubt the efficacy of public debate as a means of hastening this desired consummation,and deprecate the vio lence of accusation and reply, we may add that a harmonious adjustment of the school question cannot come by any half-way com promise, depending upon a secret under standing for its maintenance. There is but one possible position on the essential point, which is that public instruc tion must be absolutely separated from re ligious teaching of any sort or name. There must be no holding to the line between Catholic and Protestant. There must be acceptance of the district system, the dis persion of pupils among the schools accord ing to residence, and a perfect ignoring of any religious tests or qualifications as to re ligion among the teaching force. The free dom of belief on both sides must be guaran teed, or rather the question of belief must be left out of sight as completely as it is in the training of hand and eye and brain to a proper use of any other sort of tools. When this much is admitted all around, then the question of freedom to give religious in struction out of school hours to any who may come voluntarily to receive it, and to those of all faiths without discrimination, will appear to have lost its importance. We have not the slightest fear of a secta rian control of schools in any state, and least of all is there danger of it in Minne sota. The coming together on common ground of patriotic and public spirited Catholics and members of . other religious bodies who are animated by the same spirit of loyalty to our institutions depeuds solely upon the rapidity with which the inevitable fact that public education must be wholly divorced from any religious meaning or in tent shall force recognition. That process is going forward rapidly, but it will only be retarded by any discussion which appeals to the evil passions of the past, whether it be Catholic or Protestant who raises his voice for intemperate action. —From an ed itorial in the St. Paul Pioneer Press. There are some families in the animal world that will not put up with laziness on any terms. The drones in the beehive when no longer needed are slain by the workers. An idle beaver is promptly turned away from the colony in whose industry he will not take part. Should an elephant make himself a nuisance to the rest of the herd by malicious, aggressive conduct, he is driven forth, and becomes a “rogue.” Crows will, after due deliberation, put an offending bird to death; and if a pair of rooks, too lazy to find building materials for themselves, steal sticks and other articles from their neighbors, their nest will be de stroyed by the other inmates of the rookery. —Selected. When you hear an ordinary man praising a great man outrageously, you are safe in assuming that the great man’s chief virtue is that the ordinary man is personally ac quainted with him.—Puck. Certain acts can be rendered legal, but can never be made legitimate.—Texas Siftings. Rive Gents.