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CHAS Gi MOREAU, Editor and Publisher*
VOL. 11. WHEN MOTHER GETS HOME. When mother gets homo, oh, listen to the laughter Of the lisping little ones that gather all about With chubby feet and dimpled arms kept busy climbing after The blessings and caressings that a mother's love deals out. Cooing— This is Wooing Kisses From the endless treasure Of those velvet lips of hers, sweet as honey comb. Baby Lingers, May bo Fingers All the matchless measure Of her wealth of tresses, when mother gets home. When mother gets home, all the house Is strangely quiet. In the shadow of the silence sits the dear old vacant chair. Above 15, on the parlor wall, a picture hangs, while nigh it Are poor dumb lips, that falter at the thresh old of a prayer. Children Paces, Drilled in Graces, Look so worn and weary— Look so wan and welrd-like in the awful gloom. Bather Lonely. Father Only Snys? "While ourhearts are dreary The angels will be happier, when mother gets home." —Alfred Ellison, in Chicago News. liiwi fHE major and ished dinner at the major’s a bluff old fel with piercing wealth of red complexion; in short, just such a man as you would address, instinctively, as “Major.” We pulled tentatively at the cigars until satisfied of their excellence. Then I asked the major what had be come of his two nephews, of whom he used to tell me so much. He indulged in some remAiscent chuckles, and said: “Well, well! So I never told you how they settled down? Quite a fam ily affair it was. Let me see—um— when you last heard of the boys, Lee, the elder, was drinking very hard. “Where the fellow ever got his ap* petite for liquor no one knows, but he had it, and it was appalling, and there did not seem to be any way of spoiling it for him. He was one of the bright est boys I ever knew, one of these plausible, ingratiating scamps that you can’t help but like, and wish you could. George was just the opposite, a quiet, studious sort of a chap, who kept to himself, mostly. .Somehow, he never seemed to get along with people the way Lee did— he didn’t have that bright sort of tact that makes young men agreeable and taking. He didn’t care any more for society than society cared for him; the two weren't suited to each other; all he wanted was to be let alone. The boy was all right at bot tom, as he's shown since; but the per son to draw him out hadn’t come alonir yet. ‘“Well, four years ago this fall, there came to the house one day a hundred and twenty pounds of as pretty, blue eyed meekness as you over saw. It was the daughter of a sort of second cousin of brother Ed’s and mine. Her parents were dead, and Ed was her guardian, so she came here to live. She was one of this little, canary-bird sort of girls. “At the time she arrived, Lee was just a little this side of delirum tre mens, and I really believe she staved ’em off. Julie was her name. She hadn’t been in the house two weeks before everybody was in love with her, including both of the boys. It was the most astonishing thing in the world, the wav she drew that fellow George out. From being moody and self-con tained, he just expanded into as jovial and agreeable a young man as you’d wish to meet. Julie and he seemed to take to each other from the start. I can tell you, old boy, to see them to gether, with so much confidence and good will between ’em, and so much of something else that seemed too big to express—well, sometimes it made me feel that possibly I'd missed something in life by knocking around single. “But, however—well, Lee didn’t get along so well with Julie. When he was sober, and devoted himself to her, he seemed to sort of awe her, don’t you know—she wasn’t free and happy as she was with George, but always re strained, and half afraid of him. But they were both dead in love with her, and each was determined to have her. “NotV, you would have thought that Ed and his wife would have put their influence on George’s side, wouldn’t you? Not a bit of it. They wanted her to. marry Lee, and why? Because ” told her she was the one person -Mm from and well, she looked as if she hadn’t a friend left on earth. But they had dinned her go much about her duty and what a man she could make of Lee that she didn't have nerve enough to come out flat-footed and say no. “One evening George came to me, down-hearted-looking as could be, and wanted I should take dinner with him down town. I knew how he was feel ing and thought I might chirk him up a bit, possibly, so we had dinner to gether. Long before we'd finished I could see he’d some new purpose in his head, and finally out he came with it. He says: “ ‘Uncle, how drunk may a gentle man get?’ “Well, I told him a gentleman was all right so long as he could apologize for his condition. “Then he wanted to know if cham pagne was a good way of reaching the limit. I hadn’t quite got him yctr but 1 warned him against champagne, of course—told him it was too liable to carry him past the station —and that straight whisky was the only trust worthy beverage where a man started soberly out to get drunk. “He laughed a little and said he be lieved he’d been missing some fun. “I met-George again that night, about one o’clock it was, and he was drunk Well, you can imagine how the thing shocked me, because when a fellow of his quiet nature takes too much, you know it means something. I saw then why he had questioned tne as he did. The strain upon him, his disap pointment at losing the /girl, had made him reckless, andhe’d taken this way to throw it off. I tried to get him home with me, but ho wouldn’t have it He said there was something wrong about the limit of inebriety I had set, because, while he was still able to apologize for his condition, he had lost all desire to do so. I wasn’t really much alarmed, because I thought one night of it would settle him. It didn’t, though. lie was at it again next day, and the next. “There was a pretty row on when his father and mother heard of it. But that didn’t worry him any. He kept it up like an old rounder. I’ve known him to get two policemen drunk in one night —miserable judge of whisky he was, too. “It soon seemed inevitable that the family was to produce two highly suc cessful drunkards, and then it became a question of which one the girl stood the best chance of saving. “While Ed and his wife were debat ing over it, it came to Julie's mind one day that, for one of the interested par ties, she wasn’t having much voice in the matter. One morning, without say ing anything to anyone, she locked George in his room and fed him on milk toast and Apollinaris water all day. Toward night she let him out He gave her to understand that his craving for strong drink was next thing to uncon- SHE FED HIM ON MILK TOAST AND AP POLINARIS WATER. trollable and that she had got to marry him; otherwise he could never conquer it. She said she would marry him when he kept sober six months, regardless of what his father and mother might say. It seems she had a will of her own, only she had to cry a good deal to get it in working order. “You can imagine how anxiously we all watched George, and what a relief it was to every one, when he began to show that he had conquered his appe tite for too much whisky. “He finished out his period of proba tion soberly, and the wedding came off. The day before, he said to me: ‘Well, uncle, it’s pretty tough when a man has to make a reprobate of himself be fore he can marry the woman he loves; but 1 think I did tolerably well.' “ T think you did, my boy,’ I said, ‘considering your lack of natural qual ifications; but I don’t see that you were forced into iL’ “‘Yes; but I was,’ he said. ‘Lee drank hard, and every one, even my own people, said what a bright fellow he could be if he would only let liquor alone; then they gave him the girl I loved, because I didn’t happen to be a drunk ard. I just thought I’d see if whisky straight, as you called it, wouldn’t bring my merits out into a little strong er relief.’ “ Then you didn’t have a strong appe tite for liquor,’ I asked him. “ ‘Not a bit of it,’ he said. T found hard drinking to be hard work; and, to tell the truth about it, that last month of my brief career as a dipsomaniac was a fake. I just kept out late and lit tered my room up with empty bottles.’ But he swore me to secrecy. And to this day they all think Julie plucked Mm from the burning.” ' nd what became of Lee after his .’’s marriage?” I asked, all, now, do you know that’s the BAY ST. LOUIS, MISS., SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1893. funny part of it. As soon as George started in, Lee became alarmed about him, and in his efforts to keep George straight he got to keeping sober him self. George’s misdeeds seemed to open his eyes and give him a disgust for that sort of thing. He straightened up and married an old flame of his who’d jilted him when he first began to get wild. They’re both heads of families now.”— H. L. Wilson, in Puck. HE TRUSTS STRANGERS, They Come Rack, He Say*, and Square Up Almost Every Time. “Here’s my meal check, but I have no money to-day ” “Very well, sir —some other day will do.” You will hear thfcse words repeated thirty times a day in a certain down town eating house here, and they mean that a total stranger has had a hearty meal, can’t pay for the same, and the proprietor is willing to accept his promise to settle the bill some future time. In any other place the man would be looked upon as a dead beat and either kicked out or turned over to the police. Here he is treated like a gentleman and put on his honor. A re porter went in. ate fifty cents’ worth of well-cooked food, took his check to the cashier and said: “I’m dead broke to-day.” “What name, please?” he asked. “John Smith.” “Very well; come in any time; glad to see you. Good day.” He recorded name, date and amount and the reporter departed. Three days later he called to pay. He did not look at all surprised as he hunted out the slip and made change. Indeed, it was just what he expected, for ten years’ experience had taught him that ninety-five per cent, of “dead brokes” retum and square up. If all the vaga bonds of New York could get credit at an eating house business would go to the wall in a fortnight, but that class are not admitted. There is a man at the door who ‘ ‘spots” them and warns them off when they appear. A decent looking man will pass muster every time, however, and, though now and then one fails to square up, the loss is a mere trifle. The proprietor of the place said he had more trouble with dishonest waiters in his employ than with the thousands who feed at his place every year. He loses a dollar 1 through a waiter for every dime lost by trusting an entire stranger.—N. Y. Re corder. NOBLY DONE. A Case of Genuine Self-Forgetfulness In a Generous Action. Genuine self-forgetfulness in a gener ous action is always admirable. An an ecdote of such a deed, unique in its way, has recently been told. A gentle man whose veracity cannot be im peached relates the incident. Nearly all Australian snakes are venomous. Some authorities even go so far as to de clare there are no non-venomous snakes in the great island. A young lady of high social position, whose home is at Brisbane, was walk ing in the garden one day, when she saw a laborer employed on her father’s grounds just ahead of her. When within a few feet of the man she was horrified to see a small but exceedingly .venomous snake dart its ugly length from a bush which the fellow was pass ing, and fix its fangs in his bare arm. The young lady uttered a cry of alarm, ran forward and hit the reptile a stunning blow with her parasol han dle, and then, without a moment’s de lay, produced her penknife, opened it, and cut a cross through the wound made by the snake’s fangs. She next applied her lips to the wound and sucked out the poison. The man was but a laborer and his arm was not overclcan, but the noble young woman did not stop to think of that. She knew what to do, and with out squeamishness she did it, and saved the man’s life. “The heroine of this incident is now my wife,” concluded the narrator, “and it was the story of her bravery which first attracted my attention to her.”— Youth’s Companion. He Was Onto Her Game. A few evenings ago a gentleman stepped from a train at one of the Lon don stations, when a young lady skipped up to him, threw her arms rapturously about his neck and kissed him many times, saying: “Oh, papa, I’m so glad you have come!” The old gentleman threw both arms around her and held her firmly to his breast. Soon she looked up into his face, and horror stood in her eye. “Oh, my, you’re not my papa!” she said, trying to free herself from his em brace. “Yes, I am,” insisted the old gentle man, holding her tightly; “you are my long-lost daughter, and I am going to keep you in my arms till I get a police man.” When the officer came he found the old gentleman’s diamond pin in the girl’s hand.—Once a Week. —ln a composition upon “Education” a boy once wrote: “Education is going to school, which is being marked every day and examined on paper and then promoted and if you are a girl you graduate and have flowers, but if you are a boy you don’t have flowers; you only go to college.” A somewhat unique, deplorable, but comprehensive definition!—Journal of Education. —“Pay as you go” and save enough to cop}o back on.—Galveston News. “FEAHIiESS I3ST AT.T. things.” WOULD S FAIR SIDE SHOWS. The Wonderful Village a of the Mid way Plaisance. Ulnlntnrn Cities of Strange Races—A Fea ture That Affords Much Pleasure to Visitors—Odd Sights and Sounds. JSpeotal Chicago Corrcspondnnoa 1 seems ■ J to afford the ■ B average sight * seer at the fair I more genuine pleasure than a I trip through | that widely fa | mous thorough ' faro, the Mid 'L ' va Y Plaisance. One can hardly stir abroad in Ss these piping “ times of pleas pure * n our I world’s fair city, be it afoot or by convey ance, without scraps of conversation relating to the wonders of its many attractions. The “Playzaunce” is upon every tongue, and deplorable indeed is the condition of the person who lias not paid it a visit and become acquainted with its mosques, theaters, panoramas, villages, etc. Even the gamin on the down town street corner can direct you to the several abodes of the Turks, Jav anese, Dahomeyans or any of the strange races, and lie regards witli a commiserating air the poor unfor tunate frater who has not “done” the “whole blooming show” from one end to the other. The exposition proper must needs first claim the attention of the visitor, and until he has viewed the wonders o’er contained in the great white build ings, and made himself familiar with the multitudinous wonders of the arts, manufactures and other departments, he cannot conscientiously say ho has Iff THE GERMAN VILLAGE. seen the fair, but if he departs without having turned his steps westward through that wonderful avenue of mys teries and dropped in on the queer peo ple of all lands, he will find himself sadly deficient in information when his friends in his distant home inquire about the sights of the Plaisance of which they have read so much. While embraced in the general plan of the fair and considered part and parcel thereof, the enterprises of the Plaisance are private, and partake somewhat of the nature of side-shows. Each one has a fixed price of admission, which of itself is but a mere trifle, but when once within the gates the cost of entering is apt to be largely increased if a check is not placed upon one’s ap petite for viands and drinks of all kinds, and if this desire to possess the curious and beautiful souvenirs on sale is not promptly curbed. The first thing that strikes the eye on the left on entering the Plaisance from the fair ground is the picturesque Blar ney castle and its surrounding cottages, which compose the interesting Irish in dustrial exhibit, presided over by Lady Aberdeen. This is the only enterprise in the Midway Plaisance not operated and promoted for private gain. The profits accruing from this exhibit go into a fund created for the purpose of making the people of Ireland self-sus taining and for removing the taint of poverty from the Emerald isle. It is a worthy enterprise, and presents some very interesting and entertaining fea tures, among them being the celebrated Blarney stone, which is set in an ex act reproduction of the historic castle. The entrance to the village is a gem of early Celtic architecture, bearing cw>r the povtn.l the words: “Cead Mile Failte,’’ which, translated, bids the vis itor a hundred thousand welcomes. Once within the mimic city, the stranger finds much to instruct and amuse. Here the process of dairying, lace-making and other Irish industries arc faithfully represented, and the time may be pleasantly passed in listening to genuine Irish songs, dances, etc. The funds to sustain this enterprise were subscribed by people of every po litical and religious faith in Ireland and by public-spirited citizens of this country. There is another Irish village in the Plaisance, on the right-hand side further west, which offers many fea tures of interest, but the one that has the Blarney stone must, and very natu rally, attract the most attention. A little further along the Plaisance, on the right-hand side going west, there is the Javanese village, of which so much has been said and written. With out going into a detailed account of its many queer features, we can but say that it is well worth the price asked to pass through this strange community. J’he people themselves are the greatest curiosities of this remarkable exhibit. Their houses, mode of living and many curios from the land of the Malay offer ample interest for an hour’s visit, but when the visitor leaves their gates he does so with an impression that there is a race that cannot well lay claim to being anything like clean in their habits. A little further along are the Ger man villages, “Old Vienna” on the left and the German village proper on the right, in either of which there is much to be seen and heard that will afford the visitor a profitable hour's pause. Aside from the, beer and music, which are in dispensablo adjuncts to most all Ger man entevtairaents, there is much to please and instruct in the various pro ductions of art and industrial skill. The concerts in themselves are always a great attraction for lovers of martial music, and great crowds of Germans are constantly drawn to the daily concerts in these villages. In the immediate neighborhood of the German villages are the Turkish mosques and bazars in which are faithfully portrayed the different phases of life in the oriental cities. Regularly every day, at stated inter vals of about two hours, may be heard the plaintive wail of the muezzin who from his lofty perch on the mosque calls his brethren to prayer. Not a word of the invocation is dis tinguishable; the chant is simply a long, somewhat melodious and plain tively quavering intonation. It would not become a professional muezzin to chant otherwise, lie continues on this strain for several minutes long enough for a wonderfully cosmopolitan crowd to collect; and as usual it is an Irishman who volunteers criti cism of the performance. “Begorra, me fadder on the ould sod once had a baste of a donkey wid a vice intoirely loike thot chap!” Further along are the villages of the Indians and Dahomeyans, the latter be ing among the most attractive features in the Plaisance. This village recalls, to use the words of John C. Eastman, in an article in the Chautauquan, the stories of Stanley, Livingstone, and Paul du Chaillu. It is inclosed by a fence made of bark with a platform running along the top and the entire distance of the Midway front. There are a'so signal towers near the entrance and into these thatched boxes black and savage sentinels are to be seen every day dancing madly when they are not singing and shaking long loops of goats’ hoofs. There is no doubt that the Dahomeyans are more closely allied with the cruel and superstitious prac tices of savagery than any other coun try represented in Midway. The wom en are a* fierce if not fiercer than the men and allot them have to be watched day and night for fear they may use their spears for other purposes than a barbaric embellishment of their dancea. TERMS: SI. OO Per Annum in Advance THE BUSY BEE. How (iatlior Honey—“ Food Fit fo the *iod"—Gre:it Exhibit. Prof. Rodney Welch,of New York city, is writing' some interesting descriptions of the various exhibits in the Agricul tural building at the Columbian expo sition for a New York paper. In a re cent tour of that enormous building the professor investigated the exhibits of honey and beeswax, which are to be found at the east end of the Agricul tural building. He discovered that in the Grecian agricultural exhibit Stam atios Papagannakis, of Athens, shows nearly fifty varieties of honey, some of which were collected by bees from flowers that grew upon Mount Olympus. There is nothing in the appearance of this honey that would seem to warrant the praise bestowed upon it by Homer and other Grecian poets. It must be re membered, however, says Prof. Welch, that Homer was blind and therefore cVild not notice that its color was ex ceedingly dark. No modern poet with good sight would pronounce it “food fit for the gods,” though it must bo acknowledged that the flavor of some of this Grecian honey was delicious. Each of the states, except New York, making exhibits—Colorado, California, Ohio, Wisconsin, Nebraska, lowa, Min nesota, Michigan and Indiana—confine their displays to a single case. Nebras ka makes an interesting showing of the chief honey-producing plants of the state. Four cases are filled with honey and beeswax from New York. The bee keepers of the state also have a large case in which five colonies of bees may be seen at work. Through apertures in the walls of the building the in dustrious insects go “far out upon the prairies,” collect the harvest of the flowers and return with their sweet stores. In the display of New York is a large quantity of apparatus employed in handling bees and extracting honey from the comb. Many styles of bee hives are also shown, including some of the straw “skeps" which were in use two centuries ago. An attempt is made by those in charge of the New York display to show visitors the honey pro duced by different flowers. Next to New York Ontario, Canada, makes the largest display of honey, and is in many respects the most satisfacto ry to dealers. It is chiefly in largo packages, weighing from fifty to sev en ty-fivtpounds. Most of these pack ages contain the honey extracted from a single kind of flower. The large blocks of candied honey attract con siderable attention, as the Canadians arc endeavoring to find a market for theirs in this condition. The comb honey in this display is by far the finest on exhibition, as all the cells are per fectly sealed. At one end of the gallery devoted to displays of honey and beeswax is a large collection of hives, honey ex tractors, bee smokers, face protectors, honey knives, comb foundations and many other appliances used in handling bees and honey. There is also a large collection of literature pertaining to bees and honey. Beekeepers desire to sell extracted honey and consumers desire it in the comb. Comb honey is difficult to trans port, and on that aepount is expensive. As an article of commerce honey no longer deserves much attention. It has a sentimental rather than an intrinsic value. All the poets from David to Whittier h ave sung its praises. But re cently other sweets have been pro duced that take its place, and it now comes in competition with many con diments unknown to the people of for mer times. Cheap and rapid transpor tation make it practical to have fresh fruits nearly all the year, while canned fruits of every kind are so cheap that the poorest can consume them freely. "MIDWAY PLAISANCE.” Th*i Correct Pronunciation of Thin Title as Adopted by General Usage. Since the opening of the fair it has been a matter to observe with regret that the name of that strange thorough fare wherein many nations are repre sented has been regularly and auda ciously mispronounced by a large pro portion of the general public. It has been charged that in selecting the title, “Midway Plaisance,” the park commissioners made an unwarranted incursion upon a foreign tongue, but when one considers the inadequacy of the word “street,” the effeminacy of “avenue,” and the total impossibility of “boulevard,” it is not hard to see what led them to the choice. The real ly woeful consequence of their selec tion is to be found in the weirdly varied pronunciation which some people give it. “Plezzunts” is common, so is “play zance,” “Playzahants,” with the accent on the ultimate, is a favorite. Fre quently a speaker, doubtful of his ac curacy, makes a sweeping contraction ann elision of the word, with the evi dent hope of escaping observation, and says: “Midway Plez'ns’.” The more popular lexicographers of fer little help, and it remains with the speaker to choose whether he shall consider the word as English—it is an obsolete form of the archaic English word “pleasaunce”—or as modern French. The spelling of the older Eng lish and the present Gallic form is iden tical. If it is old English it is “play zance,” with the accent weightiest on the first syllable. If it is French it is “playzongs (as nearly as may be indi cated in English letters) with no ac cent at all, or with very little accent on the final syllable. Judging from the general usage hene„ it would seem that the latter pronun ciation is the on® destined to rule. Chicago Record- NO. 35.