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The Brookhaven leader. [volume] (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1883-1891, March 29, 1883, Image 1

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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
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
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
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
Lights her eye—“Ah! at last!" 'tis a messen
ger tioy;
The maid brings a me sage; she tak s It, half
Wi h m ngled excitement, hope, crgemoss—
“Mayor's house, on Thursday, at nlue; let me
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
At twelve was, for reasons not given, de
The dowagers c.ilb d it the greatest of shames;
The men sa d: “ it's rough on that fell >w Fitz
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.
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
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'
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
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
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
• * 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
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
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
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
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,
•* Why, no: 1 suppose wo want some
thing to eat once in awhile if wo don’t
happen to have company,” sai I Mrs.
“ 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
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
“Very good, sir,” said the man ot
meats, rubbing his hands softly, “ ’Arry,
“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
—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.
—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
—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
“Yrea. sir,”
" Be careful how strangers approach
“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,
“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,
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
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
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
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
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.
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’

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