Evening capital., May 15, 1884, Image 1

About Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910

Image provided by: University of Maryland, College Park, MD

                
MmS G IHrii CAPITAL
|VOL I. NO. 4.
|w
—“ —■ ■ ■ ■ -■— ,
THE POET'S FAITH.
in (f iod, an I will not leave m?,
When I die;
|| love, I know, w.il not deceive me,
fjp ruel (iojbla He will not gritwwine.
WLea cn death a bed I li®.
has don- too much for dms
For death to end
ffl<v my n ght upon th j hticre,
f>opt he g vei for ‘vertnore
To foe and friend.
fl< at,, my sou] on lakes of lights
J ftp rit lanrt,
: '**• *hadow and th-* b!lght,
HsKg***! the rea 'hof human sight.
By angels ranu d.
If niaie< rny spirit all devout ?
Who l ends my knee?
*IP' w t!i n an i guards without,
iff ** ve < my s >ul from wayward doubt
By all I a.e?
■mountain s no 1, the val *’ embrace.
Tlie vault atove i
ESsoul which fills the b >undlous
■ fields me thougid and
In God’s sweet ffroce,
in spit it, if nun \
And h o’t to pray,
c .nsoitu^w*^'
will be gay,
Bod its sway
If Jl I
|s| With gentle rol.
|Ti‘i'di and love all goo 1 is gi
:|* l For naught to sever:
HBle holy pray* r r tho skep ic's leaven,
f|s, | ils the l g .tiling rol of heaven, 1
Il| ' j;g Immortal ever. i
—l/urj/i Farrar McDermott, 1
* i l
IN AFTER DAYS.
laft< r day's, when glasses high
||||b vi top the tomb whirj I shall lie
1 plough well or id the world adjust
1 ky s’ender (laim to honored dnst,
1 inll not qut s ion nor reply.
I IMP V; njtso J the mot ning sky,
1 not hi ar the night-wind sigh,
|be in.te as all men must,
In aft.r days 1
And ye!;. no .v living, fain wera I
*ns tlse-(rtMu)d tr*‘fty. ,
Saying—He held his pen in trust;
To Art, not s rving sir:m3 or lust.
Will non d. .Then lit my memory die i
In after days !
—Austin lkiltson, in Centurj,
THE TRAIN ROBBERS.
an F.xpiiEsa messenger's adventure.
1 always knew I served tlie compauy 1
in a dangerous capacity, but I had been
an express messenger for so many years ;
that 1 thought little or nothing of the
risks I ran. My route was through a \
rouoh region, too, after I was changed j 1
from the Central Pacific to the Southern 1
Pacific road; a region but half-settled !
and civilized, where '
were as plentiful as Chinumerr itT*! tisco. | (
My “run” was a long one, through a
new country, where railroad stations
were often one hundred miles apart; and ]
the loveliness of the scenery, combined
with solitary confinement in an express !
car, which looked more like a cell than
anything else, made four days of every 1
week hang heavy on my hands, though I
was often kept busy for hours at a time. \
I generally had a mixed assortment of :
express matter, with plenty of gold and
silver in bricks and specie; and occa- 1
sionally, not much to my liking, a coffin
or two going eastward, each inclosing a
dead hotly. I would not mention this,
but it is r cessary, as w’U be seen ; (
further on.
I left Los Angeles every Monday ;
morning at 0:50, and from that time un
til tho following Thursday I did not
leave ray express car, having to go to '
El Paso aud return for my week’s work,
a distance of nearly fifteen hundred ;
miles!
This may seem a long “run,” and so
it was; but as the stations were few
across the southern part of Arizona and
New Mexico, 1 had opportunities to take
my much needed rest, which I did after
1 became accustomed to the situation.
I was always glad to get back to Los |
Angeles, however, for traveling ninety- j
six hours without any change is extremely 1
tedious, even in a drawing-room car. . j
Imagine the contrast between riding ;
that way aud riding in a heavily-loaded j
express car, with two small barred win- I
dows to look out of, and a hard bunk in
one corner to sleep on, and you may form
some idea of the monotony of my trip.
The miles passed slowly after I had
assorted and billed the expressage; my
pipe was kept burning; and the constant
roar and rumble of the train sounded
during the day, and lulled me to sleep
at night, when the windows were securely
fastened, the lamps lighted, and several
rifles and revolvers hung around in case
of an emergency.
I ran as express messenger several
years without being in a railroad acci
dent, or having the train stopped by
robbers. Some of my brother messengers
ith adventures on nearly
• /ip, but for a long time I
At ,
f- i „ s'" /
*
i '4£&Em
INDEPENDENT FAMILY TO THE BEST INTEREST OF THE STATE, CITY AND COUNTY.
ANNAPOLIS, MD., THURSDAY EVENING, MAY 15, 1884.
a unmolested, until I began to dis
ard the danger altogether. During
u t time I became accustomed to
• r y phase of my situation, and al
ugh my lonely life gave me a very
' ®ant and taciturn habit, I enjoyed my
wJp days at Los Angeles, or at Santa
, t if®’ Bea '^ at^* as much as my more
rp r , ''Jpnte friends, who ran north over tbe
. c /Wchapi pass, and were at home eveiy
u t *’• en j°y cd the * r rests
rmin robberies had lately been fre-1
Ht'tm" ' and I did not expect to be
I 1 !!#k e d, 1 learned to be on the lookout.
. x Md a set of signals with the bell rope
/'Wet the trainmen know when I was in
*!*iger. Robberies were often made
w jile the trains were in motion, and the
!' x 4)ress messengers were either bound
and foot, or killed, the robbers
je Mng desperate men who hesitated at
n^pthing.
W Occasionally, however. I thd relax my
.■igilance, and slept as soundly ns at the
■otcl where I boarded. Finally my turn
Jfaroe.
I The train arrived at Tucson one night
j X* early an hour late. There was a great
deal of express matter to exchange, and
ffcr fifteen minutes 1 was kept*busy load
ing and unloading bundle'’ and boxes.
Tbe passengers walked up and down the
platform to stretch their legs; the en
gine’s safety-valve hummed with escap
ing steam, and the long train of cars,
reaching the full length of the platform,
presented a picture of bustle and activity.
the last bundle was piled away,
’iance to talk a few minutes with
l nai a t k en t j ie tra j a started,
the
and I closed that were
to the boxes and .. .
scattered around. The
attracted my attention was a lonp^j^’ 111
box.
I had not noticed it when it
was loaded, and thinking it
was a queer time for a funeral to
start East, I examined the address. It
was consigned to New Orleans. I en
tered it on the book with the other ex
press, and for an hour or more, wnile
sorting over the packages, I took no no
tice c* my silent companion.
It was a common tiling to have one or
two fun rals the whole length of the trip
eastward, snd I thought of this as I
thought of others: “Some poor fellow
w ho left a pleasant home to come here in
search of a fortune, only to die on the
alkali plains, without a friend.”
And after I had shoved the box against
the side of the car, I opened a bundle of
newspapers and selected One to read. It
was not very late, and tilting my chair
against the side of the car beneath a
lamp, I was soon interested in the news
of the day.
How long I was in that position I do
not know, but unconsciously I fell into a
light sleep when I had finished reading
the paper. I awoke with a feeling of
dread and fascinatiou in complete pos
session of me. I did not. move: I could
not. Something held me almost breath
less, and several minutes passed beforo I
could open mv eyes. When I did, my
heart gave a quick throb!
The top of the pine box was partly
raised, and the features of a man, shaded
from the dim light, were revealed to my
acute senses!
Even then, though greatly startled, I
did not make a motion, and my eyes
were all but closed. Peering from tbe
corner of one eye, I tried to make out
his features, but saw nothing beyond the
brutal eyes and half-savage mouth. In
an instant it flashed across me that he
was a train robber?
He w r as evidently waiting to sec if I
was fast asleep, and he did not move
during several minutes, keeping his eyes
fastened on me with the steadiness of an
animal.
I scarcely breathed.
The rifles and revolvers were on the
opposite side of the car. If I attempted
to get them, he would shoot before I
made two steps. With my blood ting
ling and my ears strained* I waited ex
pectantly for him to move, resolving to
wait for a favorable opportunity to spring
on him.
Probably there were a dozen more of
his associates in the passenger-cars, and
as soon as he had secured his prize they
would be notified, and the passengers
robbed. There was enough gold and
silver in bricks in my car to make one
man independently rich. The small safe
was full of specie, amountiug to one
hundred thousand dollars’ worth.
With the thought of my responsibility
came a feeling of resolution. I must do
something without hesitation.
The dark eyes glared at me, but the
robber never changed his position. I>
could read the meaning of their cold
glitter, and I must act if I saved ray life.
1 pretended to awaken. l>y making two
or three movements with my hands, and
to my intense relief the cover of the pine
box quickly and quietly dropped to its
place. Without making any hurried
motions, I rubbed my eyes, gaped once
or twice, and slowly rose to my feet
“Well, well,” I said, aloud, “I’ve been
asleep.”
Then I proceeded to rummage around
the car as if nothing had happened, but
my nerves were not relaxed an instant.
Before they had gone five miles farther I
had some nails in my pocket, and a care
less glance showed me a hole in the side
of the box through which the robber was
undoubtedly watching every movement
I made.
I did not go near the re' olvers or rifles.
It would have taken but a second for
him to have raised the lid and shot me,
and I knew he would do so if I ap
j proached them. Instead -of that I care
i iessly assorted a pile of express matter
near the box, with a view to what I was
about to do.
I was terribly excited, though I tried
to appear cool. When I was all ready,
I threw several heavy packages on the
lid, sat down on the box. and hastily
nailed dow n the lidi I heard a noise
within, and felt a pressure as my prisoner
endeavored to raise the lid. The weight
was too great, and I soon had all the nails
driven in to hold him fast. He was
secured, but to make sury of him I sur
rounded the box with heavy bundles,
and piled upon it the heaviest boxes the
car contained.
I sat down for a minuttfto recover my
self ; then taking down rifle, I cocked
it loud enough for him to hear.
“How many more are there aboard the
train?” I asked, placing my mouth to a
crack between the bricks:
<_ In reply I heard a muffled sound re- j
sembling a curse, and as all the holes j
through which he might fhoot were cov- j
ered with gold and silver, I put my
mouth nearer and asked the question
again. j *
I received no reply, and going to the
end of the car, I quietly qpened the door
leading to the platform. The night air
rushed in, and the noise i.f.che train came
with it, making a din in'iny ears. We
were running ,at a high rate of speed
U££und the hills that abound in that
J TZZS^ in s¥: trai “-
robbers were al rk ' . T ",° “ en J
in the'forward end>tt*“. flve feet ol
me, commanded a view
mote wgoirur down ■; \"v
valuables.
It was*a terrible momei ,\vers.
a keen sympathy for for the I
whose terror-stric*i?t f itri > &Ws t vrvu*a
the dim light from the lamps, but I was
helpless; doubtless a similar scene was
being enacted in the other passenger and
sleeping-cars.
I was hot and cold by turns. I watched
the villains going coolly on w’ith their
work until I began to think of my own
safety. Charley Slate, a brakeman, was
bound hand anil foot to the forward seat;
in a few minutes they would finish their
daring work and come to my car. I did
not doubt that the follow’ I had impris
oned in the pine box was an accomplice,
and if they should find the door of the
express-car locked, they would break it
open to see what had become of him, and
kill me if I resisted.
This would enable them to take pos
session of the money, bullion and valua
ble packages and escape. I knew they
would not kill any one if he did not re
sist; and inside of five minutes they would
demand an entrance to my car.
Already the two robbers had nearly
reached the farther end of the smoking
car ; thousands of dollars were in my care;
I must save it.
Without any more hesitation I stepped
to the platform of my car, grasped the
lever that operated the Miller coupling,
and, with a quick, strong pull, separated
the two draw-heads. I w r as not a mo
ment too soon. Before the engine and
express-car had shot two hundred feet
ahead of the train, the door of the smok
ing-car opened and the robbers stepped
out. I heard their cry of rage, sawr the
flashes of their revolvers, and felt the bul
lets strike the woodwork behind me.
Hurrying forward 1 told the engineer
what I had done.
He heartily approved of my action, and
his words reassured me. I had taken a
desperate course, but I had saved a great
deal of valuable projierty.
We hurried on through the darkness,
and soon reached the next station, from ]
which the news was telegraphed to
the company's offices in San Francisco
and Tucson. The robber in the pine box J
was then secured, but refused to say a
word, and a gang of trackmen,
we returned to where we had left the
train. The robbers had departed, taking 1
everything valuable with them, and the j
passengers hailed us with shouts of joy j
and sighs of relief.— Tilth's Companion.
Happy Weople.
People who alwa# appear well and !
happy are the most popular. When any
body asks about youß health make a fa
vorable reply if at all possible. It doesn't j
make you feel any worse and your inter- 1
locutor will co awaj in a great deal bet- j
ter frame of mind than if you had given
him a full and detailed account of your
aches and pains. If you must tell your
internal troubles gd to the doctor, who
is paid for listening to such things.
A German makes a good living in New
York city keeping a flower hospital,
where he takes in sick plants to cure.
A REMARKABLE AFFECTION
nstnuvai payoxss that dis
txvovxsx nuaorxouA.
*„
Peron* with m Dialftke for Certain
Street*, Place* or Object*—Ot bera
who Dread Letter* or Colors,
In the afternoon of one of the sunniest
days last week two men got on a Madi
son avenue car going down town at the
corner of Fifty-fourth street. One was a
thin, pallid, rather emaciated gentleman,
possibly forty years of age, with rather a \
peculiar transparency of the temples, !
restless eyes, and a singular nervousness
of manner; the other large, well nour
ished, massive and rather corpulent, with
the placid, self-satisfied countenance of
the mHnwho has succeeded in the world, ;
and feels ou good terms with it. The
pair might readily have been mistaken
for a madman and his keeper, only the
feebler of tho two was evidently not past
the verge of sanity, while the placid com
panion was a trifie less vigilant than the
custodjan of a maniac ought to be, and
moreover was recogniz.ed by at least one
passenger as a famous physician.
The thin gentleman shifted his posi
tion uneasily, gaz.ed out of the car win
i dow a moment, then studied the faces of
! his three or four fellow passengers with
j the rapid intensity of a physiognomist,
! and glanced furtively at the open door, i
in which the figure of the c6nductor was j
framed like a fall-length photograph.
“Fares, gents,” grumbled that func- j
tionary, stalking into the ear. The thin
gentleman paid for two, and again
glanced in the direction of the open
door. His hand shook as he replaced his
pocketbook, and a shiver passed over ;
him. His portly companion turned and
spoke to him in a low tone. Tho words j
were inaudible, and the intonations were
soft, soothing, and evidently expostula
tory. Suddenly the pale passenger sprang !
to his feet, pulled the bell violently, and |
rushed out of the car, which was now !
midway between Forty-eighth and Forty- i
ninth streets. The portly physician rose
seat in a leisurely, comfortable j
alighted at tlie corner |
-tr**ct, where tlie ••sir
excited, nervous^
trembling all over like a leaf in the wind,
joined the doctor and began to speak
apologetically: “No use, you see. I
can’t stand it. You really must excuse
me, doctor.”
“Pooh! pooh!” laughed the portly!
physician. “You’ll conquer the thing
,by and bye. Try again, my dear boy.”
“I’ll step across and take the elevated
downtown, with your permission, doc
tor,” said the thin gentleman, making no *
direct reply to his friend’s exhortation, j
He lifted his neat Derby hat, with a hand
that was almost pellucid in its delicacy
and whiteness, and was gone.
“That man," said the doctor, “is one
ot a hundred cases that have come under
my notice in the last few years—a strange
ease of nervous impression. 11c is not in j
the least timid; will ride downtown in
a Third avenue car, a Broadway stage, or
an elevated train, w ith perfect compomre,
but he has a morbid, unconquerable ner
vous terror of the Fourth avenue, and j
would suffer any inconvenience or incur i
any expense rather than ride in a Fourth I
avenue car. I can't trace this impression
to any tangible cause, nor can he. lie
has never met with an accident on the
Fourth avenue, so far as he remembers. !
It is simply one of those inexplicable,
unreasoning, spontaneous impressions of j
the nervous system that no science can ;
explain. The man is not a crank, nor in .
the least given to eccentricities of opinion !
•r manners. On the contrary, his name
' familiar ns that of a shrewd banker.
As to courage, he is as brave as a lion, as
2 have occasion to know, and would fight
aids of ten to one, if his blood was up. j
Only, the moment he finds himself on a j
Fourth avenue car he is seized with a i
paroxysm of nervous terror which he can
not control; and that is the end of it.”
The doctor mused a moment. “Walk
across with me to my office,” he said,
“and I’ll talk with you by the way.
Such cases are by no means uncommon,
| though no paper has ever byen written
on the subject, and there is no name for
the malady in the medical books. The
late Dr. George M. Beard—as able and
; acute as he was eccentric—invented the
term neurophobia to describe the condi
tion existing in such cases, and the •
singular thing about this neurophobia is
that it seldom occurs with women, given
as they are supposed to be, to nervous
impressions and hysterical fancies.”
| In one of the doctor's office journals
there were notes of this case: A patient,
a man of tolerably robust and well
; nourished physique, forty-six years old,
| lawyer by profession—cannot bear to
cross Broadway at the Astor house. He
will walk down to Fulton street or up to
Park place, but cross under the shadow
of the Astor house never. There is no
assignable cause for the terror; it simply
exists and that is all. It came upon him
suddenly one afternoon two years ago,
after a hard day’s work in court. He
started for the Astor house to get a enp
of coffee and his regular half a dorse raw
PRICE ONE CENT.
oynteis To his wonder, as he was about
tp step from the curbstone at the corner
of the postoffice he was seized with a .
fit of trctnbliag and terror, and since
then he has never been able to command
himself to cross at that p->int, though he
has often tested his self-4 ontrol by try- 1
ing it.
Another patient had the same terror of
:he Jersey City ferry at the foot of Cort
landt street. The Brooklyn ferries have
no terrors for him, the Desbrosses street
ferry is not objectionable, but if his life
depended upon crossing to Jersey vii.y v
at Cortlaudt street hr could not com
mand his nerves to accomplish it. As in
the other two, there is no as. ‘guable
cause for the morbid impression in th’S
case. It esme suddenly, and has beer
; in exist*nee for four years. *
| “ Sometimes.” continued the doctor,
“the victim has a terror of a certain
street, avenue, or public square • aod one
man I know cannot pas* the s.atue of
Lincoln at Union squ re with expe*
riencing a nervous tremoi Cut, with
regard to some of our outduo* statuary,
nervous dreau is natural enough.”
“One of my patients.” he * , ?nt on,
“a literary mnu of some rcpuutlon, has
a nervous terror of words ending in or
conlaining the diphthong ‘th.’ This man
will take any trouble to avoid the rela
tive pronoun * which.’ He has not for
years written any one of the words termi
nating in tch—such as catch, fetch,
scratch, batch, .latch or patch. For
match he always writes lucifer or Vesu
vian; far fetch either bring or obtaiu;
for catcli, he uses capture or some other
proximate. He has often tried to over
come the prejudice; but some how his
baud begins to tremble, his breath comes
short, and he cannot form tho letters.
For character he always writes disposi
tion, reputation, kind, description—any
thing that will pass muster as a substi
tute. ”
Cases of neyrophobia as concerns
colors are not uncommon. One of the
doctor's patients —a woman this time~
is driven into hysteria by a certain pale,
cold shade of blue. Aud a nervous,
fidgety little man, who called upon him
to be treated for musicians' cramp, boxed
his q!*rs in his own office for wearing a
scarf, and begged his paid on for
himself if his life depended uporiitr^^^^^
The peculiar nervous affection illus
trated in the preceding eases must not be
confounded with the mere whimsical
prejudices and fancies common with in
valids. The latter, though persistent
and often not easily banished by the well
are by no means unconquerable, while in
neurophobis. the gymufoms are physical
in their description. The patient shrinks
I and shudders, and the terror; though
I groundless, is unconquerable as the dread
of death.— New York Sun.
Cur Animal Census.
Tlie number of people in the United
States increases
but the number of farm animals increased
4,000,000 during 1883, according to a
report presented to the commissioner ,
of agriculture by Mr. Dodge, statistician
of the agricultural department. The
world wide attention recently excited
by the American hog gives especial in
terest at the present time to the animal
census of tbe republic, which ie aa fol;
lows:
Animals. 1881. 1881 liurreot*.
Hors* 11,101,083 10,838,111
Mules 1,W14.ia6 1,871,017
Mitch ows .. 13,501,208 13,125 3? >,521
Other cattle.. 0,040,101 28,0 MU 7/ 1,000,0.'4
■ Sheep 50.02 5,6 6 40,2 57,201 1,380,.‘565
Swine 44 20 J, 80 i 43,270 088 0:0,807
Although we have less . pig thuu peo
pie, we have more than any other couu*
J try on earth, and we have almost a sheep
apiece, or nearly twice as many of the
fleecy family as the United Kingdom, and
we have more milch cows than all the
; British cattle together. We have about
i as many horses as families, allowing an
average of five persons to each family,
; and there is one mule for every thirty in
habitants. During its first century thia
republic doubled its population every
twenty-five years, and Mr. Griffon, an
eminent English statistician, recently at
tempted to excite alarm by predicting
that our growth will continue at the
same rate until the soil will not be able
to support so many people. It will not
i be .equally perplexing to know how to
red,uce the animal census, should there
j ever be danger of overcrowding, as in
| dicated by the present rate of increase.—
New York Mail a/al Express.
A Milwaukee girl got mad, chopped
off her finger and sent it with the en
gagement ring upon it to her faithless
lover. As soon as the lover saw that
she could no longer play the piano he
rushed to her side and married her!,—
Philadelphia Call
If you don’t belie** this is there—
prosperous country in the
rice carefully the marvelousaajclifee.J
increase of veterans of tcy Mexican war.
We have an impression that not less than
half a hundred of them land from every
arriving emigrant ship.— {buckeye.