The Brookhaven leader. [volume], September 06, 1883, Image 1

About The Brookhaven leader. [volume] (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1883-1891

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VOLUME 1. BKOOKIIAVKN, MISSISSIPPI, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1883. NUMBER 29. ■ ..‘K.'MSal'SSSSi.S*
the old re ADI so class.
I can not tell you, Genevieve, how oft it comes
That rather young old reading class in Dts
1 tfict Number Three;
That row of elocutionists who stood so straight
\nd charged at standard literature with ami
able design. _
We dill not spare the energy in which our
wools were clad;
Wo gave the meaning of tho text by all tho
light we had;
But still I fear the ones who wrote the lines
we read so free ._. ,
Would scarce have recognized tlieir work In
District Number Three.
Outside the snow was smooth and clean—the
winter's thick-laid dust;
The storm it made the windows speak at every
sudden gust:
Bright sleigh-bells threw us pleasant words
when travelers would pass;
The maple-trees along tho road stood shiver
ing in tlieir class;
Beyond, the white-browed cottages were nest
ling cold and dumb,
And tar away the mighty world seemed beck
oning iis to come—
The wondrous world, of which wo conned
wlml had boon and might be,
Jn that old-fashioned reading class of District
Number Three.
Wetookahand at History—its attars, spires
and flames—
And uniformly mispronounced the most im
portant names;
Wc wandered through Biography, and gave
our fancy play.
And with some subjects fell in love—"good
only for one day;"
In Romance and Philosophy we settled many
a point.
And made what poems wq assallod to creak at
every Joint;
And many authors thnt we love, you with me
will agree.
Were first time introduced to us in District
Number Three.
You recollect Susannah Smith, the teacher’s
sore distress,
Who never stopped at any pause—a sort of
day express ?
And timid young Sylvester Jones, of incon
sistent sight.
Who stumbled on the easy words, and read
the hard ones right '(
And Jennie Green, whose doleful voice was
always clothed in black ?
And Samuel Hicks, whose tones induced the
plastering ail to crack V
And Andrew Tubbs, whose various mouths
were quite a show to see ?
Alas! we can not find them now in District
Number Three.
And Jasper Jenekes.whosc tears would flow at
each pathetic word,
(lie's in the prize-fight business now, and hits
them hard, I’ve heard);
And Uenny Bayne, whose every tone he mur
mured as in fear.
(His tongue is not so timid now: he is an auc
tioneer';
And Lanty Wood, whose voice was just en
deavoring hard to change.
And leaped from hoarse to fiercely shrill with
most surprising range:
Also his sister Mary Jane, so full of prudish
glee—
Alas! they’re both in higher schools than Dis
trict Number Three.
Ho back these various voices come, though
long the years have grown.
And sound uncommonly distinct through
Memory’s telephone;
And some are full of melody, and bring a
sense of cheer.
And some can smite the rock of time, and
summon forth a tear;
But one sweet voice comes back to mo, when
ever sad I grieve.
And sings a song, ami that is yours. O peer
loss Genevieve!
H brightens up the olden times, and throws
a smile at me—
A silver star amid tho clouds of District Num
ber Three.
— Will Cartel on. In Harper’* Magazine.
PAINTING A PRECIPICE.
Thrilling Experience of a Tramp Artist
While Swinging Two Hundred Feet
Above Terra Flrma.
•• No, sir, I can’t patter flash: I don't
undersand the meaning of a square with
a dot in it painted on a farmer's fence
post. I’m a tramp, to be sure; but I’m
no beggar. I don’t run with the rest
of ’em, and I don’t undersand their
signs.”
He was resting from his arduous la
bors under a shady tree in Lincoln Park,
and if he could have been held under
the fountain's stream for half an hom,
it would probably be possible to ap
proach him without holding one’s nose.
However, as water was apparently his
sworn enemy, the reporter did not insult
him by the suggestion.
“ 1 suppose you have met with a great
many adventures in the course of your
t rampings?”
“ Adventures! Well, slightly. How
would you like to hang over a precipice
at the end of a fifty-foot rope, with two
hundred feet of clean air under you
and a gang of bloodthirsty Apaches up
above?”
“Tell us about it.”
“ You see, I'm a sign-painter. Lqok
here.”
He drew aside the lapel of his savory
coat and displayed aboutadozent paint
brushes of various shapes and sizes,
tightly bound together with strings and
resting in his inner pocket.
“ 1 don’t work in a little 6x9 shop for
$2.50 a day from one week’s end to the
other. No, sir; the world is my work
shop, and I make what I can—some
times it is twenty dollars a day and
sometimes it is nothing. I got five dol
lars for painting a patent medicine sign
on the river wall over at the Newport
Barracks two summers ago; but the
blamed police of that town yanked me
in for it, and the Mayor fined me ten
dollars and costs, and made me paint
out the sign besides. So you see I
didn't make much by that job. You can
see traces of the lettering on the wall
there yet if you look close.”
“But about that little adventure with
the Indians?”
_ “Got any terbacker? What’s that?
Keep the whole plug? Oh, thanks!”
He bit off about half the plug, moist
ening the remainder with saliva in the
course of the operation, and then went
on with his taleu
“lt was two summers ago. I was
painting the Southern Pacific for a
Baltimore drug house, and had pretty
well plastered the rocks and fences
along that line with liver pills, electric
pads, etc. Of course, I would make
big jumps now and then, when I
thought the scenery was too tame to be
painting, or 1 never would have got to
the end of the road.
“I branched oft' at Benson, in Ari
zona, and took a run up the San Pedro
River as far as Tombstone, meaning to
lay the paint on that town pretty thick,
because its name makes it kind of con
spicuous, you know, and I thought the
boss would like it.
“But the first pot of paint was the
last. I started in about ten o’clock one
morning to decorate a little shanty that
was not fit to keep a billy-goat in. It
was made of about three dozen rough
planks nailed to four posts, with a lot
of tree branches as a roof.
“I swung black paint all over one
side pretty lively as a ground-work for
the white lettering, but I no sooner
ftarted in with the white when a .big
fellow slouched across tho street to
where I was, ami says he:
“ ‘That's mighty pretty. Taint the
other side, now.’
“ *\V ait till I get done this side, will
you, mv friend?’ says I, making the
outline of a big I. in white paint.
" ‘Just scratch that out, if you please
My name don't begin with an L.’
“He said that mighty soft; but when
I looked at him I had to look into the
muzzle of a big seven-shooter navy.
“I've had plenty of trouble with men
who didn't want their barns and fences
[tainted up with signs; but that fellow
j made more fuss over his little shanty
than ever I saw before or since. He
said he was paying forty dollars a
month rent for that place (I wouldn't
give him forty cents for the whole
thing), and he made me paint all four
sides, from top to bottom, witli good
black paint, while the whole town stood
around and criticised the wav I slung »
brush.
“They let me go after I got that
shanty painted; but the sheritV of the
town walked a piece with me, and told
me I'd better get. He said the men
could stand a little swearing, and a lit
tle shooting and a little gambling: but
when it come to making sign-boards of
the houses, he was afraid lawlessness
was goitig^too far, ami he wouldn't an
swer for the consequences if I stayed
in town.
“I was determined that I would not
go out of that Tombstone district with
out leaving my mark, anyhow, l^o 1
just bunked on the hillside tiiat night,
and in the morning 1 made a bee-line
for the Whetstone Mountains, which
arc in sight of the city, and after a lit
tle skirmishing around I found a canyon
with a precipice on one side of it as
clean straight up and down as a knife.
“When I looked over the edge I cou!;1.
see the water in the little creek down
below dancing and singing along
through the boulders. It wasn't such a
tarnation piece down there—only two
or three hundred feet—but it was a lit
tle further than I eared to jump.
“ 1 had a coil of silk rope among mv
tools, and after fastening one end to a
cottonwood tree I swung the other end,
with a loop in it for a seat, overboard,
and climbed down it hand under hand.
“What did I do with my paint-bucket
and brush? I put the brush in tlie
bucket and carried the bucket-handle
in my mouth. (Hi, I assure you this
kind of thing was common with me.
The next time you go among the mount
ains, if you will examine the painted
rocks pretty closely, you will find that
my way is really the only way to get at
most of them.
“Give me a good silk rope—silk be
cause a very small silk rope will carry a
man, and a painter don’t like to lug a
heavy rope around with him—and i’ll
paint your name on the steepest preci
pice that ever was.
“When I’m sitting down my brush
has got a seven-foot swing, and I set out
to paint the words ‘Love’s Lung Loz
enges’ in seven-foot letters, 1 didn't
care if it took me a week, I wasn’t going
to be bluffed by them Tombstoners.
“ Well, sir, ! was brushing away and
singing to myself like a mocking-bird
when a stone came down and lit fair in
the paint-pot, splashing paint all over
my sign. 1 looked up m idder'n a hor
net, and there I see two dirtyT Apache |
heads gi inning at me.
“I didn’t say anything: but the sight
of them took the life out of me so that I
dropped my brush, and I could hear it
bounding along from rock to rock until
finally it struck bottom. I swear it
seemed to me ten minutes from the
time that brush left my ham! until it
struck the ground. Every time it
bounced from one rock to afiother 1
seemed to say to myself: ‘You'll strike
there, and there, and there.’
“ I knew the Indians were Apaches
the minute 1 saw their heads, arid I
knew, too, that the Apache is the blood
thirstiest animal on earth.
“ They grinned at me, with their
heads stuck over the precipice, and
then one of them swung out his right
arm and began making passes at the
taut rope with a butcher-knife in his
hand. You won’t find them fellers car
rying tomahawks any more; they carry
guns and knives instead.
“ I watched that knife Hying around
up there with its sharp edge always
turned toward the rope, until it made
me sick, and 1 looked down for relief.
Below me there was nothing but a little
mesquit bush growing out of the preci
pice about half way down, anti under
that boulders.
“Suddenly 1 thought of something, j
and, whipping my whisky flask out of
my breast pocket, I held it up toward
them. They stopped grinning, the
knife stopped wheeling around, and I
saw in a minute that they were two j
thirsty Indians, and that I had a chance j
yet. But, like a blamed fool, 1 was too !
sure, and didn’t take enough care of the
bottle, and the tirst tiling I knew it
slipped from my hand and smashed to
flinders on the rocks below.
“The Indians gave one howl, and
then zip went the knife across the rope, !
and 1 followed the whisky bottle.
“Dal 1 get Killed.' v\ ell, not nardiy.
You remember that mesquit bush;’
Well, the end of the rope managed to
get wrapped around that bush in the
fall, and it brought me up so sudden
that the shock broke out four of my
front teeth.”
“ But you were still a hundred feet
above ground, and your rope only fifty
feet long.
“ To be sure; but everything was plain
sailing now. 1 just shinned up the rope
to the bush, got the rope out of the
snarl, and unraveled it so as to make
two ropes, only half as thick each as the
other was. Seep The rope was plenty
strong enough to bear me, thin as ft
was, and down I came like greased
lightning, and then footed it back to
Benson, where I bought a new outfit
and went on to ’Frisco.”—Cincinnati
Enquirer.
■
—A hospital professor was making
an amputation in the presence of his
students; meantime the patient groaned
and sobbed. Irritated at hearing so
much groaning, the professor said to the
patient: “Do me the favor to be quiet,
for we can’t hear ourselves talk. There
are one hundred persons here at least,
and you are the only one who is making
any fuss.”—The Monitor, Mexico
The ft Irkrd Fly.
The weary man would fain take a nap
In the hot summer afternoon. He sur
veys his eomfortable sleeping-chamber,
all re-arranged fresh and tidy from tho
hands of the chamfierma'd. He pulls
down the blinds and converts the day
glare into twilight, and when he has
disrobed lie lays himself upon the cool,
dean sheet ami pulls the other over him
and says: “It is good.”
But from the ceiling aloft the wicked
house-fly has been an interested ami
amused spectator of all these proceed
ings. He has been a motionless, silent
black speck on that ceiling for the last
three hours. Now he bestirs himself,
lie has work to do. He is to have his
day’s fun. He is to show tin- would-be
sleeper the power of a single fly.
lie rubs together first his forelegs and
next his middle legs, and at last twist
eth out from behind his last pair of
hindlegs, ami then works his wings
to see if they be in good working or
der. Then he makes a dive upon the
would-be sleeper. He encircles bis
bead two or three times with a pre
liminary bu/z. Then he strikes him
upon the nose. He softly crawls upon
that nose. He crawls with many feet
and lie tickles with each particular lit
tle foot. And the man launches out at
binj a blow hard enough to burst a
bandbox and hits bis own nose. The
fly is afar oft*ere the nose is hit.
He waits that a little more slumber
may settle down upon lis victim. He
liummeth to himself a little tune. Then
alights he on the man's cheek. He
crawls thereon. He tickleth with his
many little pedal tickles. And the
Weary man launcheth out another blow
and hits himself again. Then the fly
visits his car. lie crawls about in it
and tickleth. lie knows the exact time
for every slap and is afar long ere it
hits. Are the weary man's feet project
ing from the sheet? But this fly has not
time to tickle the toes, lie sends an
other fly, his private secretary, to do
that. There is .much more surface to
be operated on.
It is an adventurous and investigat
ing fly. He loves dark, dangerous and
mysterious places. 15e there the small
est rent in any portion of the man’s
raiment and he will find it. He it but
half an inch of ripped seam, and his
tiny eye ferrets it out. He dives into
it and crawls within. < Yawls up and
down and around the man’s leg though
it he as much as his life is worth.
The busy fly watches for new places
whereon io tickle. He waits for the
weary man to roll over and throw the
sheet from his person. On which he
alights and ticldeth as before. With
desperate effort the man wraps himself
from top to toe in his sheet, leaving
only exposed the tip of his nose for
air. He flatters himself that the
wicked fly will not find his nose, or if
he do find it he will not care to waste
his tickling power on such an insignifi
cant bit of surface. Hut this tip of
nose is just what that fly has been
waiting for. This is the acme of his
fun. This is the very situation lie has
been trying to work up. Not find that
nose? He surveys it from the ceiling,
llis eye is full of delight. Ho laughs a
buzz-z-z-zty laugh toliiniself and z-z-zts
down on the poor man’s olfactory.
He lights with a 1 his six feet upon it
and delivers a tickle with each foot.
Then there is a tremulous uprising,
a shock, a commotion of the bed
clothes, a kicking out of enraged legs,
and the man ariseth straightway and
delivers himself of one and sometimes
more wicked words not here to be men
tioned, and every fly in the room
shakes with derisive laughter.—N. ]'.
Graphic.
Confederate Bonds.
The inside history of the moyement
now going on in London to impart a
value to the bonds of the defunct t’on
ferate Government has not hitherto been
given to the public.
The prime mover in this queer scheme
in a Mr. Van Raelti, a Dutchman of
Greek extraction, though his name, for
reasons doubtless satisfactory to himself,
does not appear upon the committee of
bondholders of which Lord Penzance is
chairman. This is not the only venture
of the kind in which Van Raelti has
been engaged. He first, became promi
nent as a dealer in Colonial produce in
Mincing Lane; but here he was unfor
tunate, though not, as we are informed,
culpably so. He was not long, how
ever, in again getting on his legs, finan
cially, and was next heard of as an
operator upon the London Stock Ex
change. He It was who, with a line
flavor of patriotism, readjusted the
Greek finances, having first prudently
obtained possession of a goodly number
of Greek bonds at a merely nominal
price. His success in this scheme prob
ably suggested the game which he is at
tempting to play with the Confederate
bouds. He has managed to coax Lord
Penzance, Mr. Robert Martin and other
Englishmen of repute into the swim
with him, and now maneuvers them
with his magnetic eye like so many toy
fishes.
It was at first intended that the scope
of the scheme should he limited to the
cotton loan bonds, Van Kaelti’s idea
beiug to proceed directly against the
United States Government for their
payment; but eminent counsel, well
versed in commercial and American
law, held that these particular bonds
were not, as had been fancied, of the
nature of a dock or warehouse certifi
cate, as no specific cotton was pledged
for their redemption, and that they car
ried no claim to the proceeds of Confed
erate cotton said to have been paid into
the United States Treasury. This opin
ion was a stunning blow to the hopes of
Van Raelti and his influential commit
tee. and they became quiet for awhile.
Then it was Van Raelti began to
■scheme to obtain the payment of the
whole Confederate debt in full. His
plan was Jay Gouldian in its conception
and proportions. He proposed to or
fanize in London a Land Mortgage
'ompany. to operate exclusively in the
Southern States, the qualifications for
membership being that every sharehold
er should be the boua tide holder of a
given amount of Confederate bonds,
which were fo be gradually paid off out
of a fixed portion of the profits of the
company. But the same eminent coun
sel who had given the cotton loan bond {
•
scheme its quietus gave the opinion that
tiie Un ted .States Government would
never permit its courts to enforce mort
gages given to evade and nullify the
amendment of the Constitution prohib
iting the payment of the Confederate
debt. The second disappointment left
Van Raelti no other resource than the
desperate “ boycotting" scheme, of
which we have lately heard so much.
There may be Londoners simploenough
to l)c willing to part witli their hard
cash, in the hope that the Southern peo
ple can be frightened by an empty
threat into paying or compromising a
debt which they do not owe; hut it is
probable that Van Raelti himself is'siek
enough of his scheme by this time, and
would be very glad to be rid of bis Con
federate waste paper, which hardly cost
him more than a thousandth part of its
face value, at a fraction of the price he
paid for it. Charleston (.S'. C.) Acer.
and Courier.
The Handy Revolver.
Experience proves that persons who
carry pistols to protect themselves
against danger need more than anything
else to be protected against their owr
weapons. Almost invarihaly the oulv
persons they shoot are themselves o'
their friends, either by accident or de
-U»
A peculiarly sad case of suicide was
chronicled in New York last Thursday.
A young man of wealthy family, excel
lent business position and prospects,
engaged to b • married in a few weeks
to an < stimable young woman, happy
in all his relations and anticipations,
planning for his wedding trip and the
purchase of a future home—in a word,
surrounded with everything that to out
ward appearance goes to make life en
joyable and happy—shoots himscli
through the heart in the middle of the
night, and is found lifeless in the morn
ing bv his family. No cause can be as
signed for the rash and awful act. He
had seemed anything but depressed.
H s last evening was passed in pleasant
conversation with his relatives. His
mind was occupied with the prepara
tions for married happiness.
Hut one explanatory fact appears
The young man's father shot himself at
the grave of his brother in Greenwood
some years ago. This had evidently
haunted him, lor lie once said to his
fiancee that his father had killed him
self, and that was the only thing in him
she would have to contend against.
Now comes a second fact. The young
man carried a pistol as a protection
against being robbed while on his way
to bank with deposits. 11c was fond oi
practicing with the weapon, and kept it
with him constantly. In doing this he
was sporting with death. He was like
a burnt child playing with fire. With
tlie haunting thought of his father’s
manner of death before his eyes, ne ex
posed himself constantly to the very
danger he ought of all dangers to have
avoided. Everybody knows the im
pel scs that are born of surroundings.
A man who w alks along a precipice is
almost sure to wonder with a strange
sort of fascination what would be the
experience of a fall over its steep. The
madman is not the only one who is taken
with the impulse to leap from a dizzy
height. So in this case, the presence of
the pistol was sufficient to suggest what
was in a moment of impulse carried
into irrevocable act.
The handy revolver is responsible foi
a large increase of crime, and of acci
dents that are close related to crime.
1’lie habit of carrying revolvers is al
ways pernicious in its effects, even when
not fatal to its results. The boy that
starts out by putting a pistol in his.
pocket and thinking lie is more of a
man fordoing it. starts in a way that is
sure to be disastrous. He is safest as
yyvll as wisest yvlio, living in a peaceful
anti lawful community, relies on an up
right life and an Almighty Father for
his safety, rather than on the habitual
carrying? of deadly weapons.—N. ¥
Examiner.
A Slam-Bang Doctor Dead.
Death has just carried off old Doctor
Newton,' whose sensational ‘‘cures’’ ol
all sorts of ailments, from lumbago
down to a sore toe, made him a promi
nent figure among the humbugs oi
Gotham several years ago. When the
doctor yvas in his glory he had an of
fice in St. Mark's Place, near Cooper
Insfitute. The lame, the halt and the
blind gathered there in crowds every
day. They sometimes blocked the
sideyvalk so much that policemen had
trouble clearing a way for pedestrians.
The fame of Doctor Newton spread all
over the city anti through the surround
ing country. There was nothing that
he could not cure. And he gave no
medicine. He cured everything by
touch. 1 he touch was olten a pretty
rough one, such as giving a rheumatic
sufferer a thump between the shoulders
and a drive forward, anil telling him to
step out. The thump and the drive
generally made the sufferer step out
in some way. In one corner of his of
tice the doctor had a collection of old
walking-sticks and crutches. These
relics of decrepitude testified to his
skill. They had been left behind by
people he had cured, who had no fur
ther use for them. Men and women
crawled into his office by the aid of
sticks and crutches, and came out as
spry as if nothing had ever been the
matter with them. So, at least, ran the
reports that were circulated every day.
And a great many believed them. They
reached the newspapers, and reporters
were sent to witness the doctor’s opera
tions and write them up. The report
ers seemed to be skeptical, and their
reports of what they had seen were not
calculated to make the general public
believe very firmly in Dr. Newton. He
was finally complained of as a nuisance
in the neighborhood on account of the
motley crowds he drew, and after a
while he moved away. That was some
twelve or fifteen years ago. He gradu
ally passed out of notice, and many t£>
(.’horn his name was once familiar had
forgotten him altogether when the an
nouncement of bis death was made a
couple of days ago. His age was sev
enty-three. Newton called himself a
“healer.” His whole method was slam
bang. Any one who got a thump from
him between the shoulders was sure to
remember it a month any way.-*-# Y.
Cor. Detroit Free Press.
PERSONAL AND LITERARY.
—F. V. Greene is the youngest Cap
tain of Engineers in the rnited States
army. He is known in literature by
his clever writings on military subjects.
—Josh Billings was born in Lanos
born', N. IL, and he has directed his
children to bury him there and mark
his grave with a rough stone from a
ijuarry hard by.
—Cornelius Vanderbilt has a tast
for book collecting, and paid one thou
sand dollars for a copy of “Elliot s In
dian Bible,’' which the old Commodore
would consider a ridiculous waste of
money,—N. ¥. Graphic.
—Mis? Ida Ward, the English actress,
has come over to stav. During a form
er visit she conceived so strong a liking
for America, the people and tiicir ways
of living, that she has come to go back
no more.—Chicago Journal.
—Henry Labouchere, the editor of
London Truth, never writes at night,
not being a believer in the midnight oil
as applied to the journalistic machine.
His working hours are from ten in the
morning till three in the afternoon, aft
er which comes recreation.
—Among the citizens of this republic
there is at least one undoubted child of
royalty in the person of Rev. William
J. Barnett, pastor of the Shiloh (col
ored) Baptist Church, Williamsport,
I’a. He is the sou of a once powerful
African King, Dumba by name.—A". ¥.
Her all.
—Josiah Ilinman, founder of Monta
na, the tirst town built in Colorado, died
recently at his home in Vergens. Vt.
He was the leader of the tirst party that
left Lawrence, Kan., for Pike’s Peak in
May, 18-)8. In February, 18o!>, the new
town of Montana was incorporated by
the State of Kansas. Not even a log
cabin now marks the town’s location.
—Among the interesting political
relies in the estate of Montgomery
Blair are six large trunks containing
letters, manuscripts and various public
papers left by Frank P. Blair, Mont
gomery's father, for the purpose of pre
paring his life. The father did not take
time to write his life, and left the papers
to his son. who in turn leaves them in
their original shape, never having had
the time or inclination to prepare the
book. Among these papers are many
manuscripts given to the elder Mr.
Blair bv Andrew Jackson. — Chicago
Hera’d.
- The Pall-Mall Oaietlc, in its criti- i
cism on Ouida s new novel “Wanda,”
draws attention to the extraordinary J
size of the hero no's library. The eritic
says: “It contained half a million vol
umes: or, a< is stated on another page,
a million. Taking the former number,
and estimating that the room had
twenty shelves, and that each volume
had on an average an inch of shelf, we
find that the wall space in tins -great
cedar-lined room' must have been a
little over 2,000 feet; or that the apart
ment measured say 800 feet long by
200 wide—a large room for a Tyrolese
castle.”
HUMOROUS.
—Upon seeing a fire-engine at work,
| an exquisite remarked: “Who would
evah have dweamed that such a vewy
diminutive-looking appawatus would
hold so much wattah!”—Chicago Trib
une.
—The last case of indolence related
is that of a man named John Hole, who
was so lazy that, in writing his name,
he simple used the letter “J” and then
punched'a hole through the paper.—
S. 1. Sews.
—A newspaper is much excited over
what it calls the “Diseased wife’s sister
Bill.” But what the wife’s disease
•was, and why her sister's name was
Bill, is not at all plain in the article
discussing the subject.—Detroit Free,
lb-ess.
—One man was asked by another,
with whom he was on the best of
terms, where he had taken up his
abode. “Oh,” he replied, “I'm living
by the canal at present. I should be
delighted if you would drop in some
evening.
—“ It was pitched without,” said a
clergyman, having Noah’s ark for his
theme, and an old base-ball player who
had been calmly slumbering awoke with
a start and yelled “foul.” The lirst
bass from the choir came down and put
him out.—N. V. Independent.
—“Send anything to this office, in pay
ment for subscriptions, potatoes, cord
wood, string-beans, rags, old iron, any
thing, only send it,” wails an impe
cunious country editor, and then adds:
“Not necessarily for publication, but as
a guarantee of good faith.”— Rochester
Post-Express.
—“And how old did you sav she )
was?” asked Mrs. Jenkins of the inuse- i
uni attendant, pointing her sun-shade at
the Egyptian mummy in a ease.
“ Four thousand years, ma’am,” an
swered the man.” “Do tell: wonder
fully well preserved at that age, ain’t
she? Are her teeth false?”
— The scarcity of gentlemen at a
neighboring summer resort was so ap
parent that a Boston lady telegraphed to
her husband: “George, bringdown a lot
of beaus for the bop this evening.”
Thanks to the telegraph manipulator,
George arrived with a “pot of beans,”
Boston Courier.
— His Vacation.—
He wanders the str<>et in an old striped coat.
With ink tnatks all over his arms.
And ueier a shirt collar graces his throat,
And no waistcoat his brave bosom warms.
A scraggy beard grows ail over h's face.
And he looks very much like a tramp;
His hair is uncut, and in heat’s g-im embrace
He appears most deeidedly damp.
Why does this young man, so careful in dress.
Now look very much like a bummer?
Ah: bitter the truth that I must here confess—
His girl's gone away tor the summer.
— u asltinytun Republican.
—Everybody in Texas knows Colonel
Bill Fritz Hugh, the man who talked
old General Holmes out of the ring dur
ing the war. Bill was at the Great
W indsor, in Dallas, and sent a waiter off
with his order. In course of time the
fellow came back. Bill looked at him
in astonishment a moment and then
asked: “Arc you the same man I gave
my order to?'1 To which the waiter
replied: “Yes. sir, I am that same.”
“Well, my goodness!” retorfed Bill,
you have aged so that I would not have
known you from Aaron’s soape-goat!”
— 'i’txas Siftings.
Temperance.
A QY7ESTIOS ANHWEIIED.
That reminds me of a story:
In the fall of *2
You remember that the Hoo«fers
Were di“|*>scd to take the view
(Or al least a port on of therm
That they ought to have the right
To prohibit such execs***
A* excessive "getting tirrht."
So tncy organized a canvass
To substantiate thcircluim.
And the Anti-Prohibitionists
i »f course must do the same;
Consequently for the battle
There wa-* summoning of elans.
There wa-* Mowing of wind instruments
With splitting of tympans;
There wa-floating up of posters.
There was gathering from afar.
By the small boy. of old barrels
Made combustible with tar;
And the relative advantages
Of faucet and of oump
Were discussed witn frenzied eloquence
Cpon the storied stump.
Now an honorable Senator
Was stumping of th*- State
I*or tin* "Anti-Prohibition"
Aral the " Pro-take-something" slate.
His were blows that lit like Vulcan’s,
And among the various links
That he forged to make his argument
For fre< dotn ftivf frve drinks
Whs a question. He had argued
Against sumptuary laws
Witn a frequent punctuation
Due to sumptuous applause;
But more telling than his rhetoric,
Cnresisting as his foot
When the platform came against it.
Was this question that he put:
“Now, my friends and fellow-citizens,
Your optics please to turn
On the wide ungarne'ed harvests
That around us glow and burn
In the golden hue* of autumn.
And permit me to inquire.
As I try to curb my eholer,
To keep down my rising ire.
If these Prohibition zealots
Were to carry out their wills.
By shutting up the sample-rooms
And shutting down th<* “tills -
Tell me, here among the corn-fields.
Tinted with the blush of morn—
Te!l mo what, my brother Grangers,
We should do with all our corn?"
He hud made that simple question
Very numerous, inde«*d.
But in culling out an answer
He could never quite succeed;
Till one day. he having asked it
In its customary place.
He was startled by a Ifoosier’s
Asking him. with solemn face.
If In- reuPy wished an answer.
He replied, of course he did;
He hud a-ked for information.
Then that Hoosier moved the lid
Of hi- dexter visual organ
And answered In a trice:
"I nope that we would try to raise
More bacon and less vice!"
- The Continent.
The Want of Supplies.
The Temperance work in the past has
made rapid strides, and has accom
plished a great work, but has not done
what it could, nor all that it should
have done. The, great cause of not ad
vancing faster is the want of supplies.
It is impossible for an army to go into
battle expecting to have success unless
they arc furnished with supplies, but
this is just what the friends of Temper
ance have been expecting of their lead
ers. They have expected that this war
fare was to he carried on against the
most powerful combination in the
world, running a business that pays an
enormous profit, and with all the money
they need, without any money from
those who advocate and favor the cause.
The money contributed by the advocates
of this Temperance cause for its sup
port does not amount to one-hundredth
part of that contributed by its oppo
nents. This is all wrong, and should
not be so, but that it is so is an undeni
able fact. A cause doing so much for
humanity as the Temperance should re
ceive the hearty support of its friends.
Not only is it true that the Temperance
people proper do not support the cause,
but it is also true that the churches,who
should be deeply interested in this
question, do not aid the work as they
should. There is wealth enough among
the Christian portion of our com
munity to supply the Temperance cause
with all the money needed, and never
feel it. Our people contribute to every
other cause, and liberally, too, but
when it comes to Temperance they get
close, and seem to think a very little will
go a great way. Our people contribute
liberally for the support of the poor.
This is commendable; hut when we take
into consideration that nine-tenths of
the poverty of the land is caused by
strong drink, would it not be better to
contribute to the suppression of the
evil, rather than providing for its re
sults. Our people also contribute
liberally to the support of the Prisoners’
Aid Society, the necessity for which ex
ists only as the result of the drink hab
it. Would it not be better to contribute
to that cause which eradicates all these
evils. We think it would. The pres
ent condition of the Temperance cause
is such that it only needs a liberal pe
cuniary support to make it a perma
nent success at a very early day. Whilst
this support is withheld the day of final
triumph will always be in the future.
Our people need to be educated upon
this question of giving, and we hope
they will not be dull scholars, but will
learn rapidly, and when educated put
their education in practice.
Our churches need to be enlightened
as to their duty in this matter. They
should give a hearty support to the
cause. They can raise thousands for
missionary purposes, which is all right,
and for this work equally as important
as the missionary cause, but a few hun
dred dollars.
We hope our people will realize the
importance of money in the prosecution
, of our work, and give it. —Baltimore
Weekly.
A Fearful Conflict.
Now and then a man finds himself
called to struggle with the rushing
rapids of a sweeping torrent, that he
must i>reast successfully—or perish. It
is a fearful conflict at the best. If he is
there at the call of duty, or under the
pressure of circumstances beyond his
own control, he c.*a look for help above
all human power. Then it is that his
Father's promise sounds assuringly in
his ear; *• When thou passest through
the waters I will be with thee; and
through the rivers they shall not over
flow thee.” But if one can keep away
from such a torrent without neglect of
duty, he should be glad to do it. Even to
the most favored One the warning
comes: “Thou shalt not tempt the Lord
thy God.” There is no promise of de
liverance to one who rushes into dan
ger needlessly and with presumption.
The power of Niagara does not equal
the power of intemperance. The rapids
above Niagara are less deceitful and
less dangerous thau the on-flowing cur
rent of moderate drinking. He who
leaves the firm shore of total abstin
■ --—
ence is in the rapids above the fall. He
may continue to breast the stream:
“ \Vith Cod all things are possible.”
But after all. what business has hs
there? “Lord, lead us not into tempt
ation.’'—if. S. Times.
Thrilling Words.
The following extracts were taken
from one of the lectures of J. J. Tal
bot, who recently died from the effect*
of a drunken debauch, at Elkhart, In
diana:
“But now the struggle is over, 1 can
survey the ti«ld and measure the losses.
I had position, high and holy. The
demon tore from around me the robes
of my sacred office and sent me out
churchless and Godless, a very hissing
and by-word among men Afterward I
had business, large and lucrative, and
iwy voice was heard in large courts
pleading for justice, mercy and right.
But the dust gathered on my books, and
no footfall crossed the threshold of the
drunkard's office. I had money, ample
for all necessities, but it took wings and
went to feed the coffers of the devils
which possessed me. 1 had a home
adorned with all that wealth and the
most exquisite taste could do. The
devil crossed its threshold, and the light
faded from its chambers; the fire went
out from the holiest of altars, and,
leading me from its portals, despair
walked forth w’.th me and sorrow and
anguish lingered within. I had chil
dren. beautiful—to me. at least—as a
dream of the morning, and they had so
entwined themselves around theii
father's heart that, no matter where it
ni ght wander, ever it came back to
them on the wings of a father's undy
i ing love. Tne destroyer took their
1 hands in his, and led them away.
I had a wife, whose charms of mind
and person were such that to see her
was to remember, and to know her was
1 to love her. For thirteen years we
1 walked the rugged path of life together,
rejoicing in its sunshine and sorrowing
j in its shade. The infernal monster
I would not spare me even this. I had a
mother, who for long years had not left
[ her chair, a victim of suffering and dis
ease. and her choicest delight was in re
flecting that the lesson taught at her
| knee had taken root in the heart of her
youngest born, and that he was useful
to ms teiiows, anu an nonor to ner wno
bore him. But the thunderbolt even
reached there, and there it did its most
cruel work. Other days may cure all
but this. Ah, me! never a word of re
j preach from her lips; only a tender
caress, only a shadow of a great un
spoken grief gathering over the dear old
face; only a trembling hand laid more
' lovingly upon my head, only a closer
j clinging to the Cross, only a piteous ap
peal to Heaven if her cup was at last
not full. And while her bov raged in
his wild delirium two thousand miles
: away, the pitying angels pushed the
golden gates ajar, and the mother of the
drunkard entered into rest. And thus
I stand, a clergyman without a church,
a barrister without brief or business, a
father without a wife, a son without a
parent, a man with scarcely a friend, a
soul without hope—all swallowed up in
the maelstrom of drink.”
Extent of the Liquor Trafllc.
The extent and expense of the liquor
traffic in Great Britain, the United
States and Canada is truly enormous.
It lias be -n estimated that 100,000,000
i bushels nf grain are aunually destroyed
in the Anglo-Saxon world to make beer,
i an amount that would give two barrels
of flour during the year to every fam
ily in the three countries mentioned.
During the last seven years Great Brit
ain has spent £987,000,000 for liquor,
or £200,000,000 more than the national
debt of Great Britain. But this was not
I all, for it cost at least £100,000,000 to
pay for the mischief caused. So that
the liquor traffic of Great Britain an
nually costs £241,000,000, or “as much
l as would support 600,000 missionaries
at $1,200 a year, 500,000 school-masters
at $500, build 5,000 churches at
$10,000,5,000 school-houses at $4,000;
would give to the world 200,000,000
Bibles at twenty-five cents each and
5,000,000 of tracts at one dollar per 100;
would give 100,000 widows 8100 a year
and 200,000 poor families fifty dollars
per year. In short, would provide a
machinery that would evangelize the
world iri a short time, or pay
off the National debt in four years.’’
In the United States the liquor
traffic causes a direct and indirect
outlay of over $1,400,000,OCX); while in
i the Dominion, the present cost of the
i traffic is about $52,000,000, or over $11
' ]>er head of population. An interest
] ing comparison is made to show that a
decrease in the consumption of liquor
woum more man compensate ior tne
j temporary loss of revenue, by the re
j stra n ng of crime and consequent
; diminution of expenditure. In Vine
i land, N J., there is total prohibition.
Yonkers, N. Y., licenses 145 saloons,
and has in addition 75 places where
liquor is sold in violation of the law.
Vineland has about 12,000 inhabitants,
and Yonkers less than 15,000. Yonkers
spends on its police $37,000, and the
police duties of Vineland are per
formed by one Constable at the annual
expense of $75. Yonkers has a Police
Judge at a salary of $4,000, and a
clerk that is paid $800. Vineland has
no police court and needs none. The
paupers of Yonkers cost the town
$12,000; Vineland only has s x; pays
$400 for the same. Altogether these
articles of expense cost Yonkers
$43,800; in Vineland $475. Making
proportionate allowance for the differ
ence in population, the government, so
far as the expenses are concerned, costs
more than ninety times as much as
that of Vineland. -- Christian Guardian.
Suggestive.—That was a suggestive
fact which was brought out recently by
the New York newspapers. Twooi the
wealthiest of New York’s liquor-sellers
never drank a glass of liquor in their
lives; of one this was true literally, the
other had once taken milk punch in ac
cordance with a physician's order.
A Good Example.—Some of the
Women Temperance workers in Illinois
are making arrangements to have the
penitentiaries of the State supplied with
Temperance literature. That seems ait
example worth following by others,