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Vol. YII. —No. 4. WISDOM. Wisdom divine! Who tells the price Of Wisdom’s costly merchandise? Wisdom to silver we prefer And gold is gross compared to her. Her hands are fill’d with length of days. True riches and immortal praise; Riches of Christ on all bestowed. And honor that descends from God. To purest joys she all invites. Chaste, holy, spiritual delights: Her ways are Ways of pleasantness, And all her flow’ry paths are peace. Happv the man that finds the grace. The blessing of God’s chosen race; The wisdom coming from above. The faitli that sweetly works by love. —Selected. MY FAVORITE AUTHOR. Few Favor any Particular Author. Strong Opinions Given of Those Mentioned. Allen’s History of Civilization opens up a profitable field of thought from pre-historie times to the civilization of to-day. Presented in a concise and en tertaining manner, not at all egoistic, it carries the evidence that the author is not controlled by any ism. It leaves enough to the imagination of the the student to encourage further investiga tion in that ever interesting field of literature. H. 11. S. If it was my misfortune to be de prived of all books but one, and I had the privilege of choosing that one, it would be without hesitation The Com plete Lectures of Col. Robert Ingersoll. In it is the expressed thoughts of a virtuous, noble and talented man, writ ten as he undoubtedly thought them, expressed with unsurpassed eloquence and defended with unanswerable logic. In it may be found scientific research and philosophy, in fact,everything used in the literary world but that which is most common—and by me the most de tested—theory. Sunol. After considerable cogitation I have concluded to nominate Mary Agnes Fleming as the author who has gained my franchise. She is one of the most strikingly interesting novelists of to day; her books are not carried to the point of impossible or unnatural ele ments, but are compounded of materi als, constantly presenting themselves to the public. Iler characters are true to nature and her fiction is woven into a clean, bright, statement of facts; her books once opened and commenced, command a steady perusal to the end. I have never tired of her wonderfully natural pen pictures; and it is evident that her abilities have been directed to do away with that feeling of fatigue so predominant in us at the present day. Taking this fact into consideration with her evenness of composition, book after book, I give her my whole vote. A philosopher says: I can tell what you do by the company you keep and the condition of your mind by the books you read. lam skeptical on that point. But in picking up the pen to name one of the many authors who have helped me pass many hours of profit as well as pleasure, I am compelled to select Shakespeare, and what shall I say of the miracle worker. It is vain to try and tell a tithe of my debt to him, and once touched he is hard to leave. In youth the millennium is near, with ad vancing years it recedes —I do not know what more could be done amid this world’s miseries and anarchies, than what Shakespeare has helped us do. An ideal created world which will over lay the hard face of necessity with its enchantment has aided me in emanci pating myself from a controversial spirit and rejoice in the fruits of a good mind. AVho can understand his errors, if they be such. Briouam. For a varied literary diet give me Byron. He appeals niore to the com mon every-day man yearning for some thing better than any other writer of poetry or .prose that I have ever read. Childe Harold is the work of a disap pointed life yearning for tenderness and love. Lara expresses that scorn of his STILLWATER, MINNESOTA, AUGUST 31, 1893. fellow-men begotten of a bitter experi ence. Don .Tuan is a cynical satire of the world and its ways. Accused of God liness he never refuted the libel in so many words, but throughout his writ ings is a reverence and humbleness be fore the Divine presence. In Cain he says “alas I seem nothing” and “it burns my brow, but nought to that which is within it." His Hebrew Me lodies are instinct with humility and high aspirations for the hereafter* His every page breathes of devotion to hu man liberty which his life was conse crated to. * M. A better, truer friend than a good book no one can find. Of all the books now in use none are so dear to my heart as the one containing the poetical* works of H. W. Longfellow. In it are found some familiar lines that have soothed my aching heart in time of sorrow, calmed my mind in time of disappoint ment and strengthened my nerves in time of danger. The following lines saved me from infidelism: “ ‘Dust thou art, to dust returnest,' Was not spoken of the soul.” Ilis works have enabled me to not judge things by their outward appear ance only, bvit to remember always that this world is full of deceit, and “things are not as they seem." Though in measured lines he wrote his ideas, he has given us that which none but the pure in thought can give. Let others choose whom they will, but as for me, I will always be content with 11. W. Long fellow as my favorite author. A. 11. C. * * * Were I placed in such a position as should permit the selection of only one book from the literary product of the world, my choice would fall on Shakes peare. Literature never produced a greater master or truer artist. For him the human mind was an instrument sounding forth with equal vigor the controlling passions of life. His in spired hand swept the gamut, and hope, friendship and love, pride and am bition, fear, hate and dispair, each played their part in the measures of life. Where shall we find such characters as he has given us in the mind haunted Macbeth, the unrelenting Shylock, the noble Anthony, the skeptical dispairing Hamlet and the host of others that flood memory. He suits all passions and all sympathies, joy and sorrow, love and hate, pleasure and pain; he is at once poet, philosopher, statesman, ora tor, clown and tool. Yet only man him self, with simple or complex nature, some good and’ some evil, part philoso pher and always friend. Charles Kingsley, though not my favorite author, gave to the world my favorite book. In Westward Ho a man is put face to face with manhood of a living breathing, earnest, honest pug nacious, go-a-head Christian kind. In Amyas Leigh, Kingsley has depicted the man, of all others, you would want by your side in a desperate pinch. A man whose counterpart you would most proudly call brother or dearest friend. A man of brain, brawn and soul. In Ayacanora he has given us an exquiste picture of the evolution of woman from savagery to civilization. In Mrs. Leigh he shows the very soul of a good pure mother adoring ” her God, loving her children and dutiful to her country— the woman that has made the Anglo- Saxon race carry every thing before it when perseverance, courage and princi ple were needed to win victory or death. And in it is told the story of the first, great, forward, dominating stride of the race in simple words that thrill and burn. R. F. P. A. F. I may as well say at once lam not a great book worm. I read for recreation after hours of trial, and require a pleas ant soothing-syrup rather than a brisk stimulant to a brain aweary with fig ures and figuring. Such mental food I have always found between the covers bearing Bret Harte’s name. The Luck of Roaring Camp has “ wrastled” away “IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO NIEND.” Lkonardus. many a headache. When Christmas Came to Sandy Rar, it brought to me a message of the rich veins of human kindliness to be mined from rough ex teriors. The Outcasts of Poker Flat reveal the heroism common to all hu manity when circumstances call for sacrifice of its divine incense. The Fool of Five Forks gives one.side of the boundless self-sacrifice love is capa ble of, whilst M’liss shows us its mar velous reformatory influence and Hig gles displays its tenacity in faithfully clinging to the most hopeless human wreck. All through is woven that quiet, subtle humor, like a silver thread, brightening all to the broad level of a common humanity, J. B. . * , Oliver Goldsmith, first, last and for ever. In The Vicar of Wakefield we catch a glimpse of him in his struggles with fortune. Wandering through Europe unknown and penniless he eked out an existence, sometimes as a musi cian, again as a valet. The fruits of this period of vagrant existence are to be found in his wonderful masterpiece The Traveller. His discriptions of the lands he visited during his wanderings have no equal in verse or prose. His easy style and simple language charm and soothe the reader. There is a tinge of melancholy in all of his poetry that tells of genius struggling with adver city. There is plenty of power in his prose writings. Though not a deep reasoner, he had the gift of placing his argument in such a light, as to make it easily understood. Asa writer of comedy he attained a level above the average of his time. She Stoops to Conquer is still admired. Goldsmith was one that loved his fellow-men. He gave all he possessed while he lived to the suffering, and bequeathed to posteri ty those gems of his genius, that have immortalized his name. C. C. Charles Dickens was perhaps the best delineator of character that ever existed among story writers. So human, life like and so faithfully portrayed are they, that while reading, one can call to mind having met, sometime in their existence, be it yesterday or in the almost forgot ten past, just such beings. How truth ful and vivid are his portrayals of the villainous Quilp, Sykes or Fagin; the underhand doings of the hypocritical Pecksniff; who, under the cloak of reli gion endeavors to hide a multitude of sins. How natural seem the characters of the good natured Mark Tapley, the happy -go - lucky principles of Dick Swiveller and the easy going Micawber. Then, again, how pathetic is his delinia tion of Little Dorrit, whom, loving and gentle as she was, the worst hardships could not subdue. Call to mind how she clung to the father from whom nothing could part her. For good com ing out of evil, recall the Marchioness; reared amid vice and squalor but in whom laid dormant nobility of charac ter that time awakened. Then comes Dame Durden, bringing peace and love to all who come in contact with her. Throughout all of his novels are por trayed such life-like characters, and his creations will ever remain my favorites. A. F. L. A Hustler. In this glorious Republic of ours no man need stand abashed at obstacles in life, but move on and let the guiding star be ever sought until success crowns his efforts. Several years ago there arrived in San Antonio, Texas, Uriah Lott, to fame and fortune compartaive ly unknown, but with shrewd common sense to guide him, and without in fluence financially he succeeded in building between six and seven hundred miles of one of the finest railroad prop erties in the South. The capital he possessed to start with was hardly suf ficient to keep his family in provisions until his scheme was an assured suc cess. Common sense told him there was great need for a line of railroad through the counties tributary to San 1 Antonio upon the south. With might and will-power he commenced solicit ing subscriptions and agitating the building south. As soon as enough money was raised to buy a few goods, he opened a commissary and com menced hiring hands. Before pay-day arrived he had several miles of grading almost completed. With the leverage of this work he obtained considerable money and notes as bonus, but not enough by half to pay his workmen. So he informed them that they would be compelled to accept 40 per cent, cash and the balance the following pay-day. As the section at that time was over supplied with common labor the men reluctantly agreed, lie styled his road the San Antonio and' Aransas Pass. As soon as the first few miles were graded he purchased a lot of second hand rails from the Southern Pacific 11. It., together with an old engine which had been condemned as worthless. lie laid his track, patched and painted his engine, and commenced service upon his line with two hired fiat cars. In the meantime his second pay-day had passed and without a cent of money and with a very short stock of merchan dise, but by fair promises and considera ble persuasion he got his men to agree to wait another month. A repetition of these tactics with a small amount of cash sufficed for many pay-days, and in five years the outcome was a fine paying system of six or seven hundred miles of railroad under the management of Uriah Lott, president, and upon the records of Bexar county, Texas, stand recorded many blocks of property in Uriah Lott's * name. A brown-stone front upon Congress Ave., is his residence. Such has been .the success of a hustler unknown to the world ten years ago. What fools men are not to hustle honestly instead of wasting brains devising dishonest means to get small gains. " K. C. In the choice of associates lies the source of all our troubles; if we would only stop to consider who we are asso ciating with we would be saved a vast amount of woe. We rush madly along until we fall into the lowest and vilest pits of degradation and sin. We can not always judge a man by the clothes he wears, bnt we can almost invariably judge him by his companions. It makes no difference how upright or good he may be; if he delivers himself to be led by his evil companions he will fall fast, as sure as there is a God in heaven. His first lesson in the art of vice, if I may call it an art, is the cigarette or cigar; from these he goes to the wine-room; then he soon finds that wine is not strong enough, so he is prevailed upon to take something stronger; being easi ly persuaded he learns to take his tod dies; he learns the road to the bar-room and goes, from there to the gambling hell. By adding these up you find that the sum makes total in disgrace and ruin. How many of us have dear old mothers at home who may be singing that beautiful song: “Oh 'where is my wandering boy to-night?” Little she thinks that her boy is languishing be hind prison bars. And suppose she does know, and you ask her the cause of her boy’s downfall she will quickly tell you it was “bad company.” What have we gained by these associations? Nothing, absolutely nothing. What have we lost ? Everything, character, reputation ■ and name have gone. We have neither friends nor home. But, as our little pa per says, “It is never too late to mend,” so when the prison gates are open for us and we again breathe the fresh air of liberty, let us try and follow these good old words: Magistrate: The case against you looks pretty dark. Johnson: (acul’ledgem’an) Dat’sall right, jedge; I can prove an albino.— Puck. TcDue. j SI.OO per year, in advance, i tkms. -j sj x Months 50 Cents. Our Associates. “Shun evil companions. Dark passions subdue Look ever to Jesus He will carry you through.” Dixie,