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CHAS. 6. MOREAU, Editor aud Publisher,
VOL. 11. BEST FOR THE WEARY. Btory of a Patient Little Sales woman. Brave Heart, Sweet Temper —Vacation That Wm a Vacuous Dream—The Passing of a Gentle Spirit—Gone to the Wlshed-for Home. /O HE was a tired I (jk | little saleswom \ an with a brave \ R heart an and a 1 I sweet temper, I I in spite of the / manifold cares and troubles which had jisg||\il \ made her so old for nineteen HA years. 'Ever since her moth (*i TSfjSß Sppß[ er’s death elcv / Ja en years ago, I she had worked in the same store as cash-girl, wrapper and clerk, and in all that time she had never had a whole day’s rest, except ing when she had burled the little crippled brother, for whom so much .of her patient work had been dope. She was tired, body and soul, and the de sire and longing of her heart had al ways been to take a vacation. She had never been outside the city since she could remember, and yet she knew just the farmhouse in which her desires rested would stand back from the dusty road, and she had thought of the hammock in which she would spend twelve long, idle days, until it bad be come an absolute reality to her. It dfteii feeetned to her that she led a double existence; for when, in win ter time, the icy draft from the door blew over and chilled her to the bone, she consoled herself by thinking of the warm, pleasant spot where the ham mock swung, and in summer the thought of the great green trees which shaded it seemed to relieve the burn ing heat and dust. When her head ached and her v brain whirled with the varied noises round her, she dreamed of the lovely silence of that ideal country place anct ceased to mind the man at the musical instruments counter opposite. In her heart she was a musician, and his monotonous.ren dering of popular airs drove her nearly wild. Three months ago the little brother had died; and though, as all the board ers told her, his death was a blessing to him and a relief to her, she was “foolish” enough to mourn him and feel doubly desolate when he was gone. Ever since his death she had felt weak, and queer, and to-day nothing but the stern necessities of a board bill in arrears and a balance owing to the needy little undertaker who had looked after Bobble’s funeral, kept her at her post. “When I get all paid I’m going-to take a rest,” she thought, in the intervals of selling candy and an swering questions as to the whfcrt abouts of everything, from the 9andy right under their noses to horse blan kets and cloaks, “for I’m so tired I feel as if die. I can’t go away, but if I could save enough to pay my board “THERE IS BEST FOR THE WEARY.” for two weeks, I’d lay off,” she fin ished, with a sad thought of how .lonely her room was now. But as the bills were not paid, stay she must, though her feet grew heavier every minute and the strange lightness in her head increased. 1 And how that man opposite did rat tle off those tunes! Presently he be gan to play “Rest, Rest for the Weary,? and she didn’t mind so (such for that was the hymn they had sung at Bobbie’s funeral. “There la rest for the weary, There is rest for the weary, There la rest for the weary, There Is rest for you,” she hummed softly, and the words be gan to sing themselves in her brain, now in a dreamy undertone, then with a mighty crash which drowned every thing else. “There is rest for the weary,” she remarked in answer to a question. “Yes, 1 know there iff,? 1 Re torted the customer, a short, good-na tured looking woman, “and I’m glad qf it, for you look as if you needed it and I’m kind of tired myself. Butthatdon’t tell me where the stocking counter is.” “Oh, did you want the hosiery depart ment?” said the poor little clerk; “three rooms north—turn to your left.” And so the day wore by until it was time to “put up stock” and leave the store. By this time everything around lay seemed to be dancing, a merry jig, and she thought, “1 worifler. 4f I’m going to have the fever like Rob bie.” Coming upstairs with bat and coat she was met by the floor manager, who had some directions to give, and while he talked she grow sick and faint. “What eyes the child has,” he thought, “and what a thin little face,” and he kindly told her “to run along home.” She tremblingly hurried to the door, and as the cool, fresh air seemed to re vive her she started to cross the street But why did all the people scream to her to “look out,” and where was the great sea whose roaring was in her ears? Blindly she stumbled on, and then, a moment later oh, my God! gr-r-r—she was under the cable wheels. Some minutes later she was tenderly lifted into the patrol wagon and taken to the county hospital. “No use doing anything,” said the doctor, “past all hope.” The sweet-faced, slender young nurse grew pale and shivered, and all night she tenderly watched by the un conscious girl. Just as the first gleam BLINDLY SHE STUMBLED ON. of daylight glimmered on the white washed wall the patient stirred, aud the nurse, bending over, heard her mur mur softly: “I’m going—top floor, way to the front—new building—take ele vator—to take a vacation.” The last word had hardly left her lips when her eyes closed again, aud the nurse saw that she had “taken the elevator” and started for the “top floor.” And as she tenderly smoothed the face which had meant to be so merry and bright, and which, alas! was so sad and worn, she whispered: 11 There Is rest for the weary, There Is rest tor you.” —Ethel M. Colson, in Inter Ocean. EASY WHEN YOU KNOW HOW. How to Squeeze Fifty Drops of Cham, pagne from an Apparently Empty Bottle. “I’ll bet you fifty dollars that I can get fifty drops of champagne out of an empty champagne bottle.” Tiie man who made this remark was a New-Orleans man, one of a group of loungers in the barroom of an up-town hotel at the time of the Columbian cel ebration. Several looked up from their papers, and one asked: "What’s that?” "1 say I can get fifty drops of cham pagne out of a bottle that you have drained. I’ll bet anyone fifty dollars that I can do it.” “1 don’t believe it,” remarked an other bystander. ‘‘Well, want to take me up? I’ll bet five hundred dollars to your five dollars that 1 can do it,” and he pulled out a large roll of greenbacks. * “Tell us how it’s done, and if we are convinced your offer’s a square one several of us will put up twenty dollars against your one hundred dollars and furnish the champagne to boot,” said a stout man, becoming interested in the discussion. “I can’t tell you how it’s done,” an swered the stranger. “This is one of the things more easily proved than ex plained. Where's the wine?” Someone ordered champagne. The bottle was soon emptied and passed around for inspection. “Now,” remarked the New Orleans man, “turn t|iat bottle upside down for fifteen minutes till you are satisfied that there is not a drop in it, and then I’ll show you a simple little trick.” The bottle was drily turned up and left for a few minutes to drain. The group surveyed the man critically, as if ex pecting that they were about to be treated to a legerdemain performance. “Now, gentlemen,” said the bland visitor, “you will see that what is ap parently impossible will turn out to be a very simple matter.” 'Then tearing a strip about nine inches long from a newspaper he inserted it in the up turned bottle. The paper soon got damp, and gradually drop after drop of wine oozed from the end of it. “The same can be done with a thread. It is simply an illustration of a very simple .law in physics.” The members of the group looked as if they ought to have known this before, and yet as if they half believed they were imposed upon, When the speaker continued: “Take my advice, never offer to fur nish the champagne yourself. You can always get some fool to do it, and never explain the trick until you get the champagne.” And the expounder of the law of capillary attraction scooped in the four V’s and went off chuckling. —N. Y. Herald. —Bulkins was very pious, very fond of the ladies and very bald on the back of his head. The other evening he was calling on a girl and was giving her considerable church talk. “Ah, Miss Mary,” be said, “we are watched over very carefully. Even the hairs of our Jieads are numbered.” “Yes, Mr. Bulk ins,” she replied, “but some of the back numbers* of your* appear to be miss ing. ’’-Tid-Bltfc BAY ST. LOUIS, MISS., SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1893. THE LONE FISHERMAN. Discovery of a Hermit In the Chi cago Harbor. He Lira In a Dilapidated Old Scow ml Hu No Friends Bat a Rough, Shaggy Dog—A Mystery of Lake Michigan, [Special Chicago Letter.] Out on the waves forever—always their lapping voices to lull one to slum ber; a rudely built scow for a home and the wide lawn of green waters for a door-yard; the only companion in the perpetual solitude a rough, shaggy dog, full of good spirits and affection for his silent master, his welcoming bark the only familiar sound in the wide siient ness. What a life! Away out on Lake Michigan, at the extreme end of the old government pier, moored by a strong cable to the timbers of the pier, may be seen, winter or sum mer, an old scow, very small of stature, black of body, strongof sinew and Puri tanically disdainful of paint, ornamen tation or fine attire of any sort. It does not require a nautical eye at once to detect that its black beams and worn timbers were wrought together by the unskilled hands of a decidedly amateur shipbuilder. This queer old shell is the only home of a hermit fisherman named Carl Blum who, by means of his solitary habits, has earned among the fishermen on the pier the pseudonym of the “Lone Fish erman.” Ho is gray and old, and his face is worn and leathery from years of buffet ing with wind and weather. Meeting with financial reverse some years ago, climaxed by the death of his wife, he, having been a sailor for most of his life, in his grief sought peace and ref uge from his troubles in a solitary life on the wave. For four years he has fol lowed this romantic, if primitive mode of living, his only companion his faith ful dog. Every day, as long as the lake is open and Jack Frost has not yet stiffened to a frozen glare the smiles of the blue waters, he stands at his net, grim and silent, in the midst of his jolly com panions, waiting and watching like a great gray spider for the wriggling vie? tims to get snared in his toils. Ills strict attention to business, how ever, and his very economical ways have secured for him stores end gold more than sufficient to keep him in compara tive affluence the remainder of his days; but ho prefers his wild way of living and will probably so continue till the final frost shall have stiffened his features to ice like to the wintry face of the lake he loves. Every morning, while the early fogs yet press their white coverlets down on the sleeping bosom of the lake, he be stirs himself, and, watched with great THE LONE FISHERMAN. interest by the faithful Bobby, prepares his simple meal, and sallies forth. Leaving the dog to finish his breakfast and keep guard, he steps down into the queer little dory that bobs around the old scow ail night like a rat terrier nip ping the staid heels of a great New 1 foundland. A great peculiarity of the old man’s oarsmdhship is that he invariably rows stern first and “backs water,” that is, facing the direction in which he is go ing and reversing the usual motion of the oars. The difficulty of this method of navigation is more readily seen when an examination of the little red boat slxowsjt to be flat-bottomed and square stern ed. It is very solidly if rudely put together, however, and is the hand iwork of the old fisherman himself, as is his house, the old scow. Both are made of the heaviest timbers, the planks in the dory being put in double, and yet stronger beams forming the Skeleton of the scow. It was anew “find,” to us two peo ple on the pier that afternoon, this queer mode of life—to us, whose busi ness is to find out “how the other half lives.” The gray old fisherman after his day of solitary toil at the net,' with the glittering, gasping spoils in the bottom of his boat, was now pulling—or rather pushing—homeward through the hun gry white caps and the waning light. The silver-lined wings of the sea gulls flashed across his way, so close as to seem with the friendship of famili arity, and the brisk breeze toyed care lessly with bis tangled beard and broad flapped cap, but he regarded them as old friends whose friendly advances he had known for years. Putting out after him in a rowboat, we came up with him as he was climb ing into his house from the dory’s stern. IVhen made to understand the friend ly curiosity we entertained toward his dwelling place he, not ungraciously, bade us to come on board in very much splintered-up English. Bobby, seem ing to possess the astonished impression “FRAR.IJESS IN AXiXji THINGS.” that his master had gone crazy, forth with proceeded to protect him by de nouncing the intruders in what was no doubt canine profanity, accompanied by a goodly show of fang. lie was speedily pacified, however v by the united efforts of .host and guests and incidentally by a dainty morsel of food, and we “walked into the parlor” of the gray spider. The scow was about twelve feet long and eight wide, divided into two com partments. The south one was the storeroom and fish well. Here he places all the fish he catches, ready for sale. The greater part of this box-like float being under water, he, of course, dt tcends into these rooms, and for a stair way in each he has provided a plank leaned up against the wall with cleats nailed across—“chicken roosts,” as one of the visitors remarked, in an aside, “with just enough room on each stair for one hen.” But the central point of interest lay in the “kitchen.” / i X THE RECLUSE AND HIS HOME. Clambering out of the store room up the chicken roost, wo stumbled over what seemed to be a tomato can fixed upright in the roof of the room under our feet, but which proved on investi gation to be the chimney—if one might so dignify it—‘-to the mici oscopic stove underneath. This tiny fuel-eater re joiced in one small lid and a fireplace about the size of a newspaper man’s pocketbook—just big enough to show what there wasn't in it. A square shelf low down the wall served as pantry and dining table. The furnish ings thereof consisted of two tea cups, a tin pan, and a wooden spoon. The cooking utensils were of primitiv* simplicity and numbers and were summed up in an infinitesimal tin kettle and one small tin pail. A sailor’s bunk at one side and a camp stool completed the furniture of the living room of this family of two. Up under the roof were small port holes for windows. But doubtless the meals of fish and dry biscuit eaten from that rude table were more keenly rel ished than fine feasts from many a ban quet hall, possessing l that rich flavor which the millions of the wealthy can not procure, imparted only by a keen appetite; doubtless the slumbers that, wooed by the lapping waves, descend upon that tired gray head are sweeter and sounder than the dream haunted, perhaps liquor-fumed, sleep of more fortunate—so-called—sons of the earth. So each life has its compensations and who knows but this crude old hermit may have found a truer philosophy of happiness than others seemingly more favored? Anyway, this queer habitation, while it savored unmistabably of fish, was quite clean and tidy—for a man. The hale old housekeeper understood his business; and the culinary methods were most expeditious. As we were leaving, we noticed a plank overhead, fastened to upright posts at cither end of the scow, and when one asked concerning it, by point ing toward it inquiringly, he replied: “Mine vashing, und sail oafer it in de winter,” and one could soon understand when he showed what he meant. In cold days when the northeasters come swooping down over the lake, he would freeze but for some further protection, so he spreads a patched up piece of sail ing cloth over the frame work, weights it down at the sides and is comfortably tented in from the wind and dashing spray. Assisting me down, with a doffing of his grimy cap, he called down amidst the ferocious barking of the rearoused and indignant Bobby:“Auf Wiederseh’n, Fraulein.” Pulling shoreward and home* ward in the gathering twilight, past the warship Michigan, where the jolly tars were singing and taking in the “wash ing” which was unfurled to the breeze, through the green swells and curling white caps one could scarcely help growing dreamy over the endless theme —the queer folks in the world. And yet we are all queer: "For who is wholly sane?” But, as we were assisted to land by the kind and burly one armed boatman at the boat house, and plunged into the smoke-wrapped streets of the city, the Cable’s roar and the voice of the wind seemed echoing to each other: “Auf Wioderseh’n, Friu l®!ll-” Lilias C. Paschal. Coming: Out Strong. The Nurse—lt’s twins, Mr. Olsont Papa Olson (with a brave effort to be cheerfuD VeU. shveeds to do Shveedel —Chicago Tribune. A Hard Blow. Soaker—After I left you last night b fellow knocked the breath out of mo. Spicer—He must have hit you an aw ful lick,—Jury THE CUP THAT CHEERS. It’s Not Popular in Washington's Official Circles. President Harrison Never Served Wine at His Receptions—Attorney General Mil ler’s Famous “Indianapolis Punch'* —A Temperate City. [Special Washington Lotter.l During the first session of the present congress the country was surprised and aroused by the charge, openly made by Mr. Watson, of Georgia, that a member of the house of representatives had been in an intoxicated condition while making a speech upon the floor of the house. The charge was investigated by a committee composed of members of the house, and, after taking volumi nous testimony, it was decided that the charge was without foundation. Never theless, the impression prevails throughout the country that there is a great deal of social tippling done in Washington; and there is something of truth as well as exaggeration in that impression. It is true that it is customary in so ciety here, as it is in the social circlesof other cities, to have wine at banquets and receptions; but it is not true that this custom is always observed in offi cial circles. It is well known that the present ad ministration is dominated by the in fluence of a home-loving. God-fearing, temperate man. The views of Mrs. Harrison on the subject of temperance were of such a pronounced character ! that from the moment of her advent j into the white house all alcoholic liquors were banished. However, at state dinners, in obedience to the cus tom of a century, wines have been served; but the guests, knowing the sentiments of their host and hostess, ! touched them very sparingly. On the president’s private table wine is never served; indeed so rigid is the rule in this respect that the use of liquor is never allowed in the preparation of a dish. Mrs. Morton, the wife of the vice president, never has served anything in the nature of an intoxicant at her Wednesday afternoon receptions. For those who do not care for hot tea and chocolate there is always prepared a large bowl of cafe frappe. At her even ing card receptions, however, when the company is smaller than when the gen eral public is admitted, as is the case on Wednesdays, a bowl of punch is placed at one side of the square en trance hall. Mrs. Morton is an ab stemious woman, and, while declining to prescribe any set course of action for others, is personally opposed to the Indiscriminate serving of punch at afternoon receptions, or indulging in wines at luncheons and dinners. Postmaster General and Mrs. Wann maker have found an agreeable substi tute for punch in a fragrant compound of orangeade and fresh strawberries. They have the courage of their own convictions in the matter of serving liquor in any form, even at their cabi net dinners, where nothing stronger than Apollinaris water is allowed. Attorney General and Mrs. Miller have also ’made a departure from the usual order of things by in trodneing, instead of punch, a compound for which they alone have the recipe. Although frequently importuned to impart the secret, they laughingly refuse, avowing that none but themselves can properly brew “Indianapolis punch,” in which raspberry vinegar and lemon juice pre dominate. Speaker Crisp and ex-Speaker Reed i arc abstemious men, and their families are like unto them in this regard. Sec retary John Foster, of the department of state, and Secretary Charles Foster, HON. THOMAS K. WATSON, OF GEORGIA. of the treasury department, have lived temperate and commendable public and private lives in Washington. The late secretary of the treasury, Mr. Windom, was a pronounced temperance advocate. In fact, the temperance sentiment seems to prevail in the entire adminis tration, and the legislative circles as well. It is very clear to my mind that the popular impression concerning tip pling in Washington is erroneous, be cause it is exaggerated. 11 is true that individuals here, as elsewhere, indulge in strong drink. A few members of the house of rep resentatives are drinking men; but they do not usually indulge their appetites during the day, and hence are not un der the baneful influence while con gress is in session. They surrender to their unfortunate desires only at night. These individuals, however, should not be regarded as fair examples of the so cial circles of ofiicial society in the na tional capital. In a public address recently delivered here, the speaker—Gen. Cutcheon—as- TERMS: 81.00 Per Annum in Advance.^ eerted that the social customs of Wash* ington were responsible for much of the evil resulting from the use of intox icating drinks. Men and women, ho said were tempted beyond what they; were able to bear, lost their moral bal ance, and drifted into lives of sin. lie knew of “no other city in the country where there was so much wine drink ing." This is unfair, and untrue. Nearly everyone of our priests and pastors has denied the truth of thestatement made, mainly because it is an exaggeration. An Episcopal rector, who has long resid ed here, says: “It seems to me not only unfair, but impossible, to institute comparisons between cities iu regard to a matter like intoxication, of which it is so difficult to obtain accurate statistics. Excessive drinking takes many forms, some of which never show themselves to a casual observer. Though I have seen many cities of the United States I have intimate acquaintance with only one besides the city of Washington. So far as external appearances go, there is certainly much less intemperance to bo seen in the streets of Washington than is visible publicly in New York city. Aside from inherited tendencies, the two chief eausesof intemperance among ordinary men seem to bo idleness and want. A great many of the poor resort to drink because they are in want of good sustaining food. Certainly there is much less of this sort of drinking in Washington than iu any other cities in this country.” That last sentence contains more than a modicum of truth. It seems to cover the case completely. There is very little enforced idleness and conse quent want in this city. Only those who will not work are idle and penni less. The scat of government being hero, and over one and a half million dollars being disbursed here every month, gives us considerable of a circu lating medium in excess of the amount usually available in cities of equal population, lienee, there is less idle ness and want here than in other cities. Consequently there is less drunkenness. “1 am very sorry that such a state ment was made by a prominent man ’ says a Catholic priest who has been traveling in the west for some time. “Statements of that character have given Washington an undeservedly bad name. While traveling I have been grieved to hear exaggerated and un warranted statements made against the social customs of the capital. Every patriotic American should have the reputation of this city at heart, and be guarded against making destructive criticisms which are calculated to be little the national capital in the opin ions of the people of the country." While denouncing and refuting tho allegations concerning the condition of social and oflicial circles in this particu lar, I am constrained to admit that there was much original foundation for the thought of the country concerning the tippling habit in Washington. Be fore the war, during and immediately after that struggle, it was customary and not unbecoming for men to drink freely, deeply and sometimes excessive ly. It was almost always expected, when gentlemen were introduced, for one or both of them to follow the intro duction with an invitation to take a drink at some bar. A well-known newspaper man who has been hero for many years, recently said to me: “Gen. Rawlins and I were here as army offi cers, in common with many others, with nothing to do but draw pay for Several years after the war, and wo played billiards four or five hours every day, just to kill time. Between games, we were constantly meeting friends and being introduced to newcomers here, with the result that I acquired the drinking habit, which has clung to me ever since and minimized my useful ness. lam glad to be able to say, how ever, that there is ninety per cent, less drinking in this city now than there was twenty-five years ago.” My own experience here corroborates and emphasizes that statement. The growth of the temperance sentiment throughout this country has been kept pace with by the growth of a similar sentiment in this city. The temper ance workers throughout the republic may thank God and take courage, for every effort put forth by them in their own communities has a reflex influ ence upon thu social life of the govern mental city. Members of congress, senators, cabinet ministers and all pub lic officials here feel that the eyes ol the people are upon them; ami they know that tho hearts of the people are inclined towards sobriety and temper ance. Smith D. Frv. A Ulrnmmar Needed. “I don't need nothing,” said Mrs. Jaysmith, ,when she opened the door in response to a ring and found a peddler there. “ harden me, madam,” he replied, “but I think yon do need a grammar. I’m sorry I do not carry them with me. Good morning.”—Harper's Bazar. Very Few Cnn. 1 Algy—There goes tho—aw—most in* tellectual fellah in onah set. Cholly—Ah! Algy—He can distinguish the dif* fereuce between this ycah’s Derby hat and last yeah's Derby hat.—Good News. Go Oil Advice. “When a young man is writing a love letter,” says a defendant in a lato breach-of-promiso-of-marriage case,“ho should keep continually before Ida mind how it would look in, print.”— , Demorest's Magazine. NO. 5.