Newspaper Page Text
flu graokkaven Reader. . u- i , .1 . -•« flu grookkacru 5Cfadnr.
BV B. T. HOBBS. j stasdiso advkutibkwkwts. — *'• sptcr.-■ 7l la Fasti H* 1 TMh Term*. 1*» Advunoe I One inch.f * sp t p » up m f is sp _ _ ' Two Inches.. S 00 II #0 II M » 00 Ontyesf..«.RB Sf. „ Three inches. ....... ISO 17 3P fl OW SOW HU months...... TOO ” t- fparttM*Pd......... Ktttttt MW Um Five inches 12 on 17 SO *& 00 be. on _ ______, _______________ Six Incites. UP# PP ell it PP> «P PP ADVERTISEMENTS. • . ' _ , , „ . *...... . wr? Marriage and death notices, not exceeding For transient advertisements, ten cents a Bi B. TV HOBBS. A Government in the Interest of the People. $2.00 IKK ANMM. p>* P"biisiiHi t™. line tor tlr.t insertion. live cants a line tor • . r __will be charged lor at regular advertising each aubee<iu< nt Insertion. .... ■ . - . 1 . ..■ . . .. . ■ • ■■ ■ - - ■■ ~- ■■■■'■ ■ 1 :-—rates. ...u-h.-.u— VOLUME I. BROOKIIAVEN, MISSISSIPPI, THURSDAY. MARCH 29, 1883. NUMBER 8. .SZlSZESStSUST “~~’ -----—i . ——— -=-.._ LOCHINVAR EX COLORADO. Oh, (he eow-punrhcr Rudgo has come In from the West: In all Colorado bis ranch Is t' o best; Amt, barring a toothbrush, he taggnge had none. > For he otime In some baste, and he raitfc not f'W fun; Nor vigils nor gold to his ijuest does ho grudge— On an orraml of love comes the eow-putlcber Uu Igo. A telegram reached him; he cotlod for a h r e: He cod* ninety mile* a« a matter of conrso; The last twenty s -von he galloped, and then * Just caught the Atla> tic E*press at Cheyenne. He stayed not to eat nor to urlnk, for he knew He could pick up a meal on the C. B. h Q. Ho got to Chicago the second day out, But right through Chicago he kept on his mute. Nor staved to buy linen, nor even a shirt; He I ked flannel Iwst, and he d.dn't mind dirt. With trousers tucked into his boots, said he: *• Fudge— Small o Ids—If 1 get there," said bold Robert Budge. From Worth, the Parisian of awful repute. Hud come divers gown* to Angel ca Mute, And parcel* from liJttanv daily wm> flowed Away In strong rooms of her inther s alio le: But she languished, nhriltiedod the hint, cough or nudge; 8he whs hound to Fit* James, hut she cottoned to Budge. But hark! 'Tis the dror bell! A symptom of joy Lights her eye—“Ah! at last!" 'tis a messen ger tioy; The maid brings a me sage; she tak s It, half dead Wi h m ngled excitement, hope, crgemoss— dread. “Mayor's house, on Thursday, at nlue; let me judge What next; only meet me there. “ Faithfully, " Budge.” On Thursday at nine totho house of the Mayor Two person* came singly, but left it a pair. A man, and n t r.de in a traveling dress, WeutWesiwart at ten on the Lightning Ex Pl 033. A wedding at draco Church which should have occurred At twelve was, for reasons not given, de ferred. The dowagers c.ilb d it the greatest of shames; The men sa d: “ it's rough on that fell >w Fitz .lames;” The damsels declared It was awfully n ce. And vowed they could doit ant never think tw ce. ” It's a chore to get housemnlds; you may have | to drudge At the start; but—1 love you," said cow-punch er Budge. -Ll/e. --—• BITTEJi THROUGH TIIE HEART. Th© Sad Fat© of Two Men who F>>a*:ht a 1 <; rixr.lv. William Farley, who has just arrived from the Medic ne Bow Country, tells the story of a thrilling bear hunt in which two old frontiersmen lost their lives. Failey and two companions, James Wilson and Jake Shultz, were on a prospecting trip on the i ittle l’as^ Creek, which debouches into tho Medi cine’Bow F\ rk of the North l’lattc south of Flk Mountain. It has been the common belief for years that rich via er mines existed in this nook of the Bock es, and the little pa ty started out last fall iu quest of the hidden gold. They selected a valley spot at the con fluence of Little aud Big Pass Creeks for their principal camping place and the locality where tho.- should meet | in the event they separated in the i mountains. Here they erected a perma nent tent and deposited the bulk of tlieir supplies. Soon a'tor Farley and his partner lo cated at the forks, early in October, the ' foo pr.nts of a huge grizzly hear wore discovered in tho neighborhood He did not seem to be at all aggressive, , contenting himself for a few nights prowling around the camp. Tho pros- ' pectora grew somewhat alarmed at the frequenc., and familiarity of these noc turnal visits, and Farley suggested that they organize a hunt'. Shu tz,, who was a mountaineer of large -experience, counseled him to have no fears prom ising that old Bru n would shortly find seme— ptw attraction and disappear. Meanwhile, two tra s had been set for the bear.'and, in both ca^es, he had clever y extracted the ba t without hav ing sustained so much as the loss of a hair from kfi shaggy hide! ‘ One night, While the throe men were 1 iug within thei tent planning to aru busirthe bear and kill him, the subject; of their conversation put in an appear ance as unconcernedly as if he was bn let proof. The prospectors had ust bunked eating supper. 1 lie camp-fire JItfcr UIIIUL'K IIVIII LUU I Ui '-J VI » U t U ih rttvt* oyer It, occasion^)- c#usftl a, luru glow.’ Close by t he hre were the dishes and the remnant#-o' the repast —a tin can full of sugar aud one of -. s' m They had left their rifles leaning against a quaking as-> limb near the hre, and were reclining on their bl nkets lazily smoking njul plotting tbq bears de* h. •* If fie oniy took 4nme regxila trail.” said Shultz •• we could get away with him without any trouble. Bn’, from what I have observ d. I would judge this fellow is . n ohl Tartar, and we-*•’ J st then there was a.sotpnd of some henry bedv moving through the bushes : back of the fire. The words died a wav on Shultz’s lips, and the three men looked in he direction whence the no.ae came, as if petrified. The griz ly walked out into'the open ing, swelling, in the imaginat.on.at the , defenseless prospectors, to the dimen- j sions oi nil elephant Ue growled at the live a moment and then uihioil his at tention to tho edibles. Tho sirup eup was. for a while, a fifteen ptjz le for him: but i nally, in his hungry r ge, he accidentally turned it o er, and the contents owed.out through the small aperture in the litl on to the ground. While the bear was engaged in licking 1 up the sirup the prospectors, recovered their pre ence of mind. Farley aud Shultz had a pistol each, but Wilson had left his With the guns, lln had a bowie knife, however, aud with this' wen on he .resolved to do battidfn'flie - event of emergency. To attack the j Rfi'- OfeT'fitk piatgia and a knife was perilous. To lie there, hoping to ro- j main unnoticed, while momentarily fearing discovery, was insu erable. Soinetliing must be done, and that Ijuickly. TThb plan of action was ar ranged with bated breath- Farley and Shultvar rwled out beneath the rear i ap of the tent. They were to make a stea'thy del our to where the guns were, surprise the bear, and riddle him with bullets. Wilson, was tg remain con- ; coaled in the tent' J The two men had not gone more than a hftTT-dozen yards from the tent when Farley broke a limb ofl' a fallen tree, in ripping over it, end the loud report j s'artled the bear. The i>rizxly fellba k on his hind i.uarters, uttered a furious “rowl and then made for the lent on a run. Before Schultz or Karjoy lould hlibot Or c d’ect thei# fri htened penses thfe 1)011? fad broken thrbti li the tent. Titey 1 kbe»r that not’bur Ifess than a m ran-le errakl save Wilson1* life, and immediately took,shelter among t li«t Low bramhes of a cottonwood treft. 1ft the dim light oi tho cam i-fire they sa\y the tetit hcafin? with the conUi t for life ra;ing within, and while pray nr < at Wilson wonhl com# out vi torione, a wild death iTy told them that the str.ur* tic was at an end. The commi t on wit'iin ceased on the fad nr away of the horrible cclio, and tho frizzly shambled out into the lij.ht. He sta f ered aronn'd the fire; sort eyed the pool of sirup on the '.'Tonod. btit seemed to have no fur ther appetite for it, and then depart# 1 as abrupt! as hew me. It was some time before Farley and Schultz could muster tip sudTci nt couf a e to des end from the tree, believing that the bear was still hilling Close b\. When thev entered the tent, the 1 gl t of» pine knot disclosed to then horriiie 1 caze the mrm of poor Wilson literally torn to pieces. One s de of his head had been laid hare by a blow fr m the griz zly’s paw, and the left sidoof the body, in hiding the heart, hail been aim st torn away. The yet warm 1 fe-blood covered everyth ur around, and in the pool lav the knife with which Wil on had vainly tried to defend himself. Following the track of th ■ hear to tbs fre it was discovered that he had been wounded, and 'perhaps seriously, as oi ery s'«|) lie made was marked by a patch of blood. Sloop was a stranger tor that night. The two men rep’en ished the nre, and. with gun in hand, sftt and p'anned revenge, little dream ing that the eflort meant tho death of one of them. At early dajbreak they took Mp tho bloednstatne I trail of the grizzly. It hcade I straight for tho im pregnable heaver dams. After having pursued it for about two miles they sutl denlv found their path blocked bv an expanse of dense chaparral, through and beneath which the bear had fore d his way. There was no further trail. Shultz, believing that the hear, in Ills wounded and Weak condition, would ’’y from pursuit, vo'uuteercd to enter the underbrush and scare him o it, farlov s instructions worn the old muntinec.r being to stand otl' at some distance sn as to command a good shot if the 1 eat appeared. Fkrley climbed up on -at-enver house into a position which gave him asweejf iug view of more than half the circle of the.bush and nervously auabed the re sult of Shultz' hazardous exploration. Shultz caut onsly crept through tho chaparral. One. two and three minutes seemed to stretch out into so many hours. Then there broke out on tho morn'ng air a yell that fro e tl e very blood in his veins. Alter that came flie echo of the despairing cry “Farley! My God, I’m killed!1’ A deadly silence that was only broken by the splashing of a i eater’s ta 1 iu one of the open dams, ensued, and 1 ar’ey knew that ho had lo-t his second part net1. It was with the feeling that ho was walking into the jaws of ceriain death that lie entered the chaparral to seek Shultz- Thrive was no danger, however, the bear had again tied. In a dark spot ip the under-growth, to which the rays of ihe sup were1 unable to pi n etratei I arley, while crawling on all fours, fell over the body of Shnlt'. When ha-had recovered from the horrot of the discovery, he dragged the re mains out into the. 1 ght. it was appa rept that Shultz had stumbled onto ihe hear and received his death wound be fore he could make an e lort to de end himself. His gun was in his right hand as it trailing it. The bear nad struck him on the left shoulder, toar'ng away clothes and I’esh, anil then bit him thrortgh the heart, tho entiKt Us he had done to Wilson, tho wounds being almost identical. l-'ftrlev gave up the hunt. He carried the roma us of Shultz ba 'k to eftmp. After iuyvmg bare 1 the two bodfes, and marked the double grpve, he left tho country that alternoon.—DrtYO’l Fret Iress. ■ a 4oh i> ■' *». '-- * ^ TT Ordered His Own I'oflln. A Detroit Nets* reporter ivas joined by a cheerful companion as he wended his way from the Central epot this morning. “Take a square look at me. partner,” said the fellow without the ceremony of an introduction. * and tell me whut you think of my general ap p arance. ’ ’ , The r. porter surveyed the man. but be fore he had time to think, was surprised bv another break on his part aboi.t in these words: “My-nanje is John P. Boyle,' and L"m from tort Sarnia, and have just ordered my eortin.” “What?” asked the reporter, “or dered vour ’ ooitin; not for immediate use. I hope.” . . 1 1. “Yes, sir for my own use an l my own corpse in the bargain,” was the reply, seriously given. “Are you sick, asked the reporter. “Just thum> that breast and see for yourself,” was the response. “Why ” lie continued. "I'm a complete wreck; nothing left of me and although I am over forty ye rs of age, 1 don’t remem ber the dav that I was a Well man'.” “ What Js vour occnpatirn?” “ I ra a sailor; have worked on the So thwest sud Jolm rherman the past ^pason. but the jig’s up with me now. 1 won't five .three days, and I am on my way to the Marine Hospital to peg out.’’ • * Here Boyle exhibited papers showing his service and identity, and then went on to say* ;Kpw. you think it s'range that I should go to an underta er and order a co t n tor tayself, brit that thing has been done before, and I have its good a right to my choice as the r chest, pro vided I don t no over my pile.” Boyle rattled away n this style as he w dked along, seemed to be rejoicing over his anticipated early demise, nncl was e ther a c ntirmed crank or an old time bummer. Ai rived at the poat o oe he parted company wish the re porter and ascended to tho Custom fKm.se to obtain a > ar rie Hospital por inlr. His last words were that the doc tors at the' hospital would assure him there was nothing the matter, but he knew he was not more than three dvya for this earth, and wanted the reporter to watch out and see if he was sot a prophet. Traps. A boy ought always to stand np for his sister, and protect her from every body, and co everything to make her happy, for she can only be his sister once, and he would be so awfully sorry If she d ed and then he remembe ed that his condui t toward her had some times been such. Mr. Withers doe-n’t romc to our house any more. One n;ght Sue saw' him coming up the garden walk, and father said: *•'Jhere’s the other one coming. Susan; isn t this Traver s even ingP” and then Sue said: “I do wish somebody would protect mo from him he is that stupid don’t I wish 1 need never lav eyes on him again.” 1 made up rav mind that nobody should bother my sister while she had a brother to protect her. 80 the next time I saw Mr. Withers I spoke to him kin !ly and tirru'y—that’s the way grown-up people speak when they say something droadlully unpleasant—and told him w hat Sue had sa d about him. an I that he ought hot to bother her any more. Mr. Withers didn’t thank me an I say th the knew I was trying to do hint good, which was what he ought to have said, but he looked as if he wanted to hurt somebody, and walked off without saying a wont to me, aud 1 don’t think he was polite about it. Jle hns noverbeen at our house s lice When 1 told Sue how I had protected her •'he was so overcome with gratitude that she couldn’t speak, an I just mo tioned me with a hook to go out of her room and leave her to feel thankful about it by her.-elf. The book very near ly hit me on the head, but it wouldn’t have hurt me much if it had. Mr. lravers was aeugntca aoout it, | and tol i me that I had acte » like a man. and that he shouldn’t ft rget it. The next day he brought me a beautiful book all about traps. It told how to make mornahundied different kinds of traps j that would c tch even thing, aiH it was one of the best books I ever saw. Our next-door neighbor, Mr. Scho field, keeps pigs, only lie don’t keep them enough, tor they run all around. They mine into onr garden and eat up everything, and father said he would i give almost anything to get rid of them. | Now one of the traps that my book told about was just the thing to catch pigs with.' It was made out of a young tree and a rope. You bend the tree down and fasten the rope to it so as to make a slippernoose, aud when the pig walks into the slippernoose the tree llies up and jerks him into the air. I thought that I couldn’t please father better than to make some traps and catch some pigs; so 1 got a rope, and ?ot two Irishmen that were living the ront walk to bend down two trees for me and hold them while I made the traps. This was just before supper, and I expected that the pigs would . come early the next morning and get caught. It .was bright moonlight that evening, and Mr. Tra ers anil Sue said the house was so dreadfully hot that thev would go and take a walk. They hadn’t been out of the house but a few minutes when we heard an awful shriek from Sue, and we all rushed out to see what was the matter. Mr. Travers had walked into a trap, an'd was swinging by one leg, with his head about six feet from the ground. Nobody knew him at lirst except me, for when a person is upside down he doesn t look natural; but l knew what was the matter, and toid father that it would take two men to bend down the tree and get M r. Trai ers loose. So they told me to run and get Mr. Seholield to come and help, and thev got tho step ladder so that Sue coni 1 sit on tho top of it and ho d Mr. Tra ers head. I was so excited that I forgot all about the other trap, and/ bos des, Sue had said things to me that hurt my feel jugs, and that praveuted me from th nk •ing to tell Mr. Schofield not to got him self caught. He ran ahead of me, be cause he was so anxious to help, and • the first, thing 1 knew there came an aw ul yell from him. and up he went into the air. and hung thei-e bv both legs, which 1 supposed was easier than the way Mr. Travers hung. Then everybody wont at me in the most dreadful wav, ex opt Sue, who was hobtini» Mr. Travers' head, 'lliov said the most unkind things to me, and sent me into the house. I heard afterward that father got Mr. Scho eld’s boy to climb up and cut Mr. Travers and Mr. Schofield loose, aud they ’ell on the gravel, but it didn’t hurt' them much, only Mr. Scho:,eld broke some of his teeth, aud says he is going to bring a lawsuit against father. Mr. Travers was ust ns good as he could be. He only laughed the next time he saw me, and begged them not to punish me, he'anso it was his fault that 1 overcame to know about that k< ml o trap, Jir. Travels is the nicest man that ever lived, except father, and when he mar-! ries Sue 1 shall go and live with him, though 1 haven't told him yet, for I want to keep it as a pleasant surprise for him Broion," in harper's , Young .People. Why Not? A tired mother who hack.been oc cupied all day with a i active aud very trouble-omo <. oy, as she *at down in the evening and thought of the numberless details into which her strength had gone, sa d: “Alter all, it is a day ; toward the making <>f » man. ’ There was a world of truth in this briot and pointed summing up of a day’s wcrk. Nothing is so hard to overcome as the illusion of time and distance: thousands of lives are wasted because they are uover treed from it, and thousands of other - and faithful 1 ves are sad dened because the , too, are under its spelL The woman under the pressure i of daily and nightly cares who feels no inspiration from them, but continually dreams ot greater services ami nobler ooqppation* in some other pla e and at some other time, is surely missing the secret of the deepest liv ing. and is Ihirst'ng with the water of life (lowing freshiugly about j her. The man who chafes under his present burden, and s^or/ts his place and Work as small and meaD compared with'!lie'thing he would d6t is evey day widening the breach between his ideal and. his possible achievement. The mastecs of life—women of rich. | ample qatyre, ripening in all strengths ami graces with the years, men full of simple, tea liable spirit, gathering j sweetness and power as they advance— have learned to reverence the present moment and the present duty, and are convinced to the very bottomo! their souls that the only road to great achievements lies through the faithful deing of the thing that lies next them. There is n > magic or enchant ment in life, no luck or fortune in its final p sseaiions, it is simple sequence of cau e and etlect, simple and undeviat ing working out of the law that what soever a man soweth that shall ho also solid structure, ex ept by striking with lull force theb’ow tlia the present mo ment makes room for. Men and women who are lull of this spirit expand their lives by sheer force of faithlul living, anil are able, by : nd bv, to look hack and see their little ditt os rounding into grand completeness, their little oppor tun t es w nding out into the highest possibilities. Every great work grows out of endless and toi some details. The historian is years in the dim sc bi son of libraries before he gives tho world a new chr.pter in its ii e; the great orator works far into sleepless nights bdore he stands on the p attorm w t!i his lingers on the heysot human passion anil sentiment; the writer de nies himself even ntionnl pleasures through laborious years that ho may en rich his thou ht by contact with he world’s thought and put the eloquence of simplicity into his style. Grappling with small difficulties is the only train ing whi< Ii tits one for dealing with great problems; fauli ul performance ofsma'l duties the only prepurat on for grand services; patien c. fidelity, and stead fastness to-day the only seed that will make to-morrow golden with harvests of fame or usefulness. The I oy who is to day doing his “chores” welt and cheerfully is in tra ning for the eares of empire the mother who is to d;ly giv ing strength, time and wealth of aTeo tion to her children in the seclusion of her home is making the whole world richer b\ her obscure ministry, is very possible shaping the char cters that are to shape the destiny of the age, a d is surely building in the only ma erial xvhich de: es decay, survives eath, and declare* its ar hitectnro in the fadeless li ht of e ernity. After all lias been said about 1 he work of the artist, the poet, and the thinker, it is the mother who stands nearest God in creative power.—Cur stinn I nion. Mr. Jones’ Bee .'steak. “Jeptha,” said Mrs. Jone3 one day last week, “1 wish \ou would get a porter-hon-o beef steak for break ast to morrow.” Mr. . oues’ jaw droppo 1 and lie sat and stared at his wifo without speak ng: at last ho inquired; “is the Governor of the State going to breakfast with us, Maria?” •* Why, no: 1 suppose wo want some thing to eat once in awhile if wo don’t happen to have company,” sai I Mrs. Jones. “ But good heavens, Maria! have you counted the cost? I am not a million aire and wo hav en’t had another fortune left to us. Hqw much porter-ho se steak do ' on s ppose it will take to go round in this fami y?” “ Abo it nine pounds. If it was round steak, or chuck steak, two pounds wouid do, because we couldn’t eat it, but every b te of tenderloin will be eaten. Yes,” said Mrs. J. smack ng her tips, “every bite.” Jones went down town like one in a dream. He hated to refuse Maria and he hated to spend so much money. How ever, he decided that the thing m st be done. So he drew a large sum from the bank and went to his butcher. “Niue poundsot porter house steak," he said, feeling a good deal as a man does when he dictates his last will and testament. “Very good, sir,” said the man ot meats, rubbing his hands softly, “ ’Arry, more?” “Anything more!” Why, when that steak was trimmed Jones could have carried the whole lot home in his vest pocket his mouth fair y watered when he saw bits of white fat, crumbs of bone and large fragments of red meat lopped od, after it was weighed, but be counted out the money, paid for it, and tried to look happy. The no.vt morning came; they had all seen tho steak the night before, and Bridget bad de hired it would be “ a trate to brile it,” and now they were all seated around the table waiting for Bridget to bring it in. “Now children,” said Mr. Jones, sharpening the carving kni o, "don't you ask tor a second piece of that steak, m nd now.” Willie muttered something about be ing thankful if he got a l.rst piece, and Mrs. Jones was saying she wondered why they didn’t raise beef with more portqr-bou-o meat, when Bridget opened the door and intruded a ghastly face. “Howly Moses.” sa d she, “ where’s the male?” Jones turned deathly pale, and ex claimed: “ I am a rni eit man!” Mrs. Jouci rushed into the kitchen followed by the rest of the family. 'There was the clean, white meat board, the hot eoa s a id the broiler, but n meat; thev were still staring at each oilier when the milkman stepped in the open door. “Is it your meat you re looking after.’’ he asked pouring out Ike reg dar quart, “it’s about out to Haiutramck now. for I met a big f lack dog tearing out of the yard with a beefsteak in his mouth.” The family I led mournfullv back to the dining-room. There are trnes when silence is golden—this was one of them.—Dc'juiI Pod and Tribune. —The composer Warter died from d sense of the heart, lie had on the day of bis death a severe attack, but had resolved on making an excuraiou in a gondola. He had another vio ont seivjmj'in the afternoon. A doctor was summoned, and found his case hope less. He died in h a arm-chair. Coxima Wasruer, his wife, kneeling beside him, and his children surro nding him. -y** * —The Boston ft Providence Kailroid is app opriating to its sw t h engines a number of u tmes which Dickens made immoi-tal. Among them are the “Dick Swiveller,” “bam Weller,” “Micaw ber,” and “Panckn.” The newest switcher, just received from the loco motive works, is called “Jack liuns by,” PERSONAL AND LITER ART. —Bret Harte was in tarn a composi tor. miner, school teacher, express mes senger and driver of a laundry wagon. —John O. Whitt er says nobody ought to write after set entv cvcept i r. Ho mes and he ought to keep on writ ing t II he is a hnndred. *' —Of Csear W lde’s future plans the London Worlti says “Ho goes back An Ameri a in the fail, then to Australia, , and u timately to Heaven.'’ Could he not tie ml need to reverse the order of his trip?—A. X'. Pot’. - Abraham Lincoln wrote in IK'ft: “I must, in candor, sav I do not think mvself lit for the Presidency. I certain ly am tla'te cd aud gratified that some partial tr ends think of me in that con nection, but I really think it best for. (air cause that no eonoerie l ef'ort, sip b as you suggest, shoul I be mad —Alexander II. Stephens was a di m'nutive man phvsica y, weghinglo s than one hundred, an I the lower por ti< n o; h:s spare body had been the s me as dead, 1mm pa alysis, fo t went • years, but even in this corn! tion he has t erformed an eno mom amount of la bor. His mind has ever keen vigorow , although hi. body w as fraiL—Chicago •Journal. , —Per. Dr. I it I uy, who has 1 ccn for e'ghteen year- connected with the edi torial management of the New York Christian A tm ale. has resigned hi3 > os tion. Ho has a number of literary and other work- on hand which compe hi attention and take np his time. 1) ring a arge part of the term o: his editorial connection with the aper he has done the heav e t pa t of the work. - -The death i announced, at the age o' sixty three, of .lohn Owen, "Own Alaw,” the national bard of YVale . He had for many year taken prominent part in NVelsh musical education and was* wavs successful as an Instructor. He had a-sisted at ail the Eistuddiodan he d in W’a es for thi ts ye. rs, and h d composed au o atorio, “ eremiah.-’ which has long been extreme y popular in that country. —M s. Emma B. Drcxel. w'fe of 1 r nsvs A. i rexcl. of 1 hilndelphin, who died recently, wiys no od tor her extensive philanthropy. She paid the rent of more than 150 families, and dis tributed among the poor over tt^o.OO) a year. She employed a woman to in stitute inquiry into the merits of each applicant, and once every week dis pensed groceries, clothing and money to the poor, who gathered every Tues day in the rear of her residence.— tiuia.de p.'iia tress. 1IIM0K0U* —When a man s out of date: When he's a weak back. —Tom Thumb says it hurts h:m just ns much t > fa 1 down as it does a full grown man, but he should remember that it doesn’t jar the city quite as hard. Detroit Free Press. —How it Ended.— Gray dawn w is in the Eaatorn sky, 'i ho ra n was fa’l nx i att t. pa ter; I a ueezed her hand and—wel, rto matter, The b »ot-inck t'»nk m » on the tly. —A Xew Haven lady having noticed a gentleman acquaintance standing in a uxed position m a l ook and paper store yester ay at ernoon, entered the sto.e and asked him if he was station ery.—Ucqister. —A Kentucky woman has nearly re formed her husband by persuading him to use bottles o wh’sky as we’gilts for the elo k. The o tener he driuks the slower the clock goes, and the longer he has to wait or h s mea s. —l’rof. Julien assert thatthe brown stone houses of New York wil entirely crumble away ill less then one thou and years, so ruinous is our atmosphe e. ‘That settles it We shall not bui d a brown-stone house, it wouldn't be econ om .—Sorristown Herald. —A book agent tried to sc’! a f 'incin nati I i hnian a copy of "Hiawa ha.” Pat looked at the tit e and then at th • canvasser. "Higher wather, i< it?’ - a\ s he. "he abers the wather in the e diggin- is quoite high enough, me b y, for any daeent man. So Le oil widyeaP’ N. A elver is r. —A newlv-marr'ed couple from ‘‘Way back” were in the city yesterdav, and, of course, found an oyster saloon the lirsl thing. "How do yo l want them, on the half-shell?” the waiter asked the groom. “N'ali-sir-eef thar’s no half shell b siness witli this weddn’ trip; give’em to us on the whole shelL— lioche ter Post-Dispatch, —“Will you have your eggs scram bled or poachediJ'’ asked a second grade hotel waiter of ag angerly lookingliim grv man who sat 'own to table in his o ercoat “N'uther one ” was the qu ck reply. “I’ve bee scrambling around and poaching through the mud all day myself, and have got enough of it. I don't want any of v our lively city eggs. any wav. “Brin me a sasserful that I14.0 never been set on, and bile'ni hv.il." ~ Detroit Post. The Cashier Ahead. A new bank which hsd been estab lished in a town in Indiana had engaged the services of a watchman wl:o came reeotnm nded, bnt who did not seem ovar-experienoed. The President there fore sent or him to post him up a bit, and began: “da es, this is your first job of this kind, isn’t it?” *»« •*— “Yes, sr.” . •> • "Yqur tirst duty must be to exercise rigilnace.” “Yrea. sir,” " Be careful how strangers approach you.*’ “1 will, air.’’ ' “No stranger must he permitted to enter the bank at night under any pre text whatever.” “No. ST.” “And our cashier—he is a good man, honest, reliably, and thorough y tru-t worthy, bnt it will he your duty to keep an eye on him.” •“Hut it will be hard to watch two men and the bank at the same time, sir.” “Two men—how':” “ Why, sir, it was only yesterday that the cashier called me in for a talk, and he said you were the squarest man in Indiana, but. that it would be just as well to keep both eyes on v< u, and let tho Directors know if you hung around after hours'”—Wall Street Stun, Temperance. The Temperance Revival. One of the most hopeful s'gns of the times is the muse i attont nno the pc * pie to the dangers and duties of the hour, in view of the gigint:c evil of in tern; e ance. 'i'he revival is not in our own country only, but is felt in England aud Scotland, an I there is a cloud at least tbo size of,a niau’g'hand oyer the cont went »f Europe 'i'he hold the sub ect takes of the pub lic mind of this country would surprise us, iiid we not pcrce vo the magnitude i and e'a ms of the subject so clearly as to c Idled with wonder rather that any are in tiilercnt. rather than that any are awaken tig out o s eep. And it is not the least of the remarkable features of the ea-e that so many of the Western States are making mighty efforts to arrest the evil. In thou: vast agricultural regions the power of reform is in the hands of a different class of n on fro n that which dom nates a State where the \ot n ma jorit es a e in cities an I la'ge towns Uutcit, or country, farms or i act odes, foreign or native born, whatever the nature and ehura ter of the people or their employment, th y must dim'n sh the desolating u uen e of ihe u«e o in toxicating drill 9. or the drmke will Ire the ru n of the c untry. »' hut is the reason that ti e very men ■tionof (he sub eet s distasteful, not to sa.v di-g’ sting, t a la go number of good people. We have not a doubt that hundreds who saw the words at the l ead o this article t rne I away to something else; an I that other Iinn d eds have quit it be ore thev have read tltutf far. Wh this contempt for a s b- j eet which next to the revi< al ot’ relig ion in the soul is the most urgent moral <p est'on in ti e world? We have to admit that the manner in which it has bien di.-cu sed by the triends o' Temperance has a lien a* ed many—that the par ies into whi h the camp is d - vided spent strength in warring against each other that should have he ui em empfoyed on the enemy of both. 1 ut it is so with religion itself to the shame ot the C hurch. And all this t me the evil h is been growing, nt 1 it now as sumes such vast propoi t ons as to app iU-r the heart, and almost destroy hope of success in making a stand against it. n no State or town is the ev 1 great- I er than here n .' ew York City. \\ e have a i o.ml of Comm ssioners who are authorized, on certain cond;t ons. j to grant licenses to individuals to .-ell liquors, These men take ike ground that they aie appointed to li'en* , n t to restrain the sa e. Therero e. the < more persons they license the more , faithfi llv they d s harge their trust! This absurd I ut fatal construction.they put upon the law. and in proo o* tiieir t de'ity they point to m re than !>,o00 j licen es now granted by them in this city! To th s n mber we may add at least a thousand uni censed liquor sa loons. But lake the legalized places onlv. I1,000, and that g yes one saloon to every 133 | ersous in t e city. Of this number many niu-t be minors to whom thev are not a'lowed to sell, i an 1 w men and men who never buy, j and when these are deducted it will ; be found that we have one li nor saloon ! for every titty or seventy-live of the | drinking i opulation! if these sa'oons or hotels or shops take in twenty dol lars a dav, on an average, they get fifty four millions of the people's monev ev ery year! Such figures appear incredible, btit one can verify them by a simple u-e of multiplication and divis on. And th s monev comes mostly out of the waves of the poor. They work, earn 1 and drink. A poor man gets more of I what he wants out of a gallon of beer j or a quart of whisky than he does out j of a peek of potatoes. Fe drinks to! make him feel b tter, and then to help him to forget. The destruet.on of the poor is their poverty. They destroy themselves. And a vast pro’ortinn of these tiftv-'oiir millions goes to deaden the sensibilities of the sulfer'ng, and to deepen the misery into which they are sunk. Let it be granted that things are worse 1 in suchacitvas this than in anv other city, and tenfold worse than in the eoun yy, East or West, it is st.ll emphatical- j ly true that it is high time lor every j oity, town, village and community to ha e a thorou h ,1'eniperauce revival. j like press and the pulpit oug't to be liea d, and with no doubtful sound of trumpet. \A ith all the facts now be fore the publ c mind, with the testi mony of cour a an1 commissions that three fourths of taxes khd crimes are j the immediate results ot the li uor! saloons, there is no possib’e ground for doubt that the laws of every tate ought to restra n and dimin'sh, and as^-far as possioie destroy, this evil, which is a j civil, pol tieal and s'cial as well as moral ev 1. 'i he law now en courages it in most of the States. But if tie lav It enses, it may hedge the 1 cense with such condi tions as to render the license a li n dranee. It may render it hard to be obtained It may prohibit he license altogether. 'Ihe eon-titutionality of such a law has been a umlaut ly sus taine 1. The only question is the ex pediency of snch laws. And if the evil to be assuaged is civ 1 and social, the exped cncy is to be deteiiqined by ihe public sentiment of the State. Tn'ess Unit will uphold and enforce the law, ; there is no good m hav ng it. But the ! eulighu rod mind of he people must be ! educated to the advantage bf such leg- i islat'on as will help the poor to live; of 1 sobriety, as w 11 save tips lum lies of the no r from the cruel su erings now brought on them bv dr nken husbands and fathers, and will convert the mil • ions now worse than wasted into streams of wealth to emich and bless the people. This wi 1 follow a Temperance re vival. for wh ch let the people la boy and pray.—N. Y. Observer. Socrates (430 years before Christ) sa d of internporan q; ■> “Doth it not rob ut of our reason, that chief excellence of man. and incite us to commit the very greatest crime'1 Can he who is immersed in false pleasure hud t.me to think of thin s that are useful.1 t r. if he crfuld, is not his udgment to con i uered by his appetite that, s 'e ng the right path, he deliberate y rejects it? However intemperance may promise pleasure, it cau never bestow any; tor : this is the gift of sobriety. It is this virtue alone wh oh places hoth the body and the m nd in the utmost decree of perfection. A Orand Hoenmeet. John .Tones began at the age of fif teen to bu Id a monument and I nished It at lifts. He worked a gbt and day, often ali night long, and on the Sab bath. He seemed to tie in a great hur ry to get it done. He spent all the mouoy he earned npon it—some say 950.000. Th' n he borrowed all be could; anil when no one would loan him any more he would take bis wife'a tires es and tike bed-clothes and many other valuable things in his home and relt them to get more money to finish that monument. They say he came home one day and was about t > lake the b ankola that lay o.cr h s s'eeping baby to keep it warm, and his Wi e tried to stop him; but he drew back his list and knocked her down, and then went away with the blankets and never brought them back, and the poor baby sicsened and died from the e\| osuie. At last there was not anything left in the house. The ■ oor, heart-broken wife, so.in followed tlie babv to the gra e. Yet John Jones kept working all the more at the monu ment. I saw him when he was a out fifty years old. The monu ent was nearly done; but be had worked so hard at it that I hardly knew him.be was so worn; his clothes were all in tat ters, and his hands and lace, indeed, his whole body. Were cove ed with scais wh cii be got in laying up some of the stones. And the wretched man had been so little, a'l this while ho was building, in go d society that he had about .orgotten how to use the Knglish language; h s tongue had «omehow be come very thick, and when he tried to speak, out would come an oath. 'flat may seem strange: bnt I ba'e found o it that a 1 who build such monu ments as Jobu’s pro er oaths to any oth er word! Now come with me and 1 will show you • ohn’s monument It stands in a beautiful part of the city where t ve stiects meet MoJ men nut such thin ;s in the cemetery. Hut ohn had his own way and put it on one of the finest lots to be ouud. “ i oes it look like Vnnker Hill monu- - merit?” asks little Amy Arlott by my side. Not at all. John didn’t want to be remembered that wav. He might have taken that ¥•-(>,000 and built an asylum for coor little children that have no home, and | e pie would have called tho asylum his monument. Hut here we are at the front door. It is a grand house! It is high and large, w th great halls and towers, and velvet carpets, elegant mirrors and a piano, and I know not what all; so rich and grand. Tliis is John Jones’ monument’ and the man who sold John nearly all tho whisky he drank lives I ere w th his family^nd theyj|ll dnjsa^iij, the richest and nest clothes. Do you understand itf^ifet'. C. M. Livingston, in Union ttignaL One of Many Similar Sad Oases. A Washington paper tells us of a rag ged begaar, well known in the streets o that city, who once he d an impor tant command in the army, having been promoted lor personal bravery, from a cavalry l ieutenant to nearly the highest rank in the military service. One night, recently, when he had been too success ful in begging liquor to sate his craving, and while lying helplessly drunk in the rear part ot a Third street saloon, some men thought to play a joke on him by stealing bis shirt, and proceeded to strip him. Underneath his shirt, and suspended bv a string from his neck, was a small canvas bag which the men opened and found it contained his commission as Brevet Major General, two congratu latory letters—one from General Grant undone iroru President Lincoln—a pho tograph of a l.ttle irl. a'd a curl of hair—a “chesinut shadow” that doubt less one day crept over the brow of some loved one. When these things were discovered, even the hat -drunken men who found them felt a respect for the man's former great ne s, snd pity for his fallen condi tion, and "trolly returned the bag and its contents to wher'e they found them, and replaced the sleeper’s do besupon him. When a reporter tried to interview the man, and endeavored to learn son c th.ng ofhis li e In the past few years, he declined to communicate anvihing. He evied like a child when to u how his r ghl name and tor er position were ascertained, and with tears trickling down his cheeks said: “For God s sake, sir, don’t publish my degradation, or my name, at least, if jou are determ ned to say something about it. It is enough that 1 know my selt how low I have become. Vv ill you p’O ise that much? It will do no good, but will do my friends a great deal of harm, as. fortunate y, they think I d ed in ' outh America, where I went at the close of the war,” Intemperance and the gaming-table, he sa d, had wrought his ruin. Temperance Items. The first Temperance Society in th s country was organized in Saratoga County, H.' X,, in March, 1S08. The fiftieth annivkhsary o' the in stitution of the Congressional Temper sRre J ocieiy was celebrated in V\ ash ington the other evening. Senator \ unce presided. The SUPREME C'UTRT OP ClLIEflR nj a ha- a t rmed the decision of a lower court, that drunkenness is no ex use or crime, and that a man who voluntarily made h nisei.’ drunk would lose no re sronsib.lity because he o i nutted a cr'me while laboring under this self imposed iusauity. j Pkks ceni Maooi N.of Iowa College, who is a native of Marne, sprites: "More than fifty years of struggle in Maine testify to the absolute certainty of the pr.oposit)pn that, whate er may cure in tenjiperahce as a iatal rri ate habit, nothing bat Prohibition will kill the de structive lujuor traffic.'1 Ir is saio i on the authority of a cor respondent of the Urnon Signal) that the Sunday attendance at the beer gardens of Cincinnati is greater than the attendance at the Protestant places of worship; and that the husbands of women w ho are engaged in the Tem perance work have been threatened that, if their wiiea did not cease their agitation in favor of Temperanoe. steps would be taken to destroy the husbands’ business.