Evening capital., May 17, 1884, Image 1

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

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

                
’ EVENINQIHBcAPITAL
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AN INDEPENDENT FAMII# JOUT<NAL ~DEVOTED TO TAB BEST INTERESIf OF STATE, CITY ANI) COUNTY.
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VOL I. NO. 6. ANNAPOLIS, Ml).. SATURDAY FT, 1884. PRICE ONE CENT.
* Mr. . ' * ■!£7 ' TJ I . -
The Thanksgiving Turkey.
“My non,” unit! Mist rent* Fox, ,
“You're elumsy iui an ox,
IV n *w lliHiiksgivinx time.
Tin; merry bell* will chime;
lint we timj starve,
i While J)ohb will carve k
k A fine lat tin key oti his table;
B Go bring that hi id, if you are ablo.
| \ You’re ao luzy,
For play ao crazy;
No game you ever brought,
No chicken ever caught,
Bk For a time ot true Thanksgiving,
Or for oar daily living.'*
Young Foxy felt quite and,
When called a clumsy lad.
An I just ut night,
W’ith till his might,
Ho ran to Farmer Dobbs’* yard,
And found the tin key oil his guard.
Without u word,
He choked the bird;
Then proudly tdung him on his back,
And took lor home the ahorwwt track.
“Good boy, rny son! You uro no ox;
I’m proud of you,” said Mistreat Fox.
“Ot name and lame vou are the winner,
And we have got Thanksgiving dinner;
While Farmer Dobbs and his throe men
‘ , Must dine upou an ancient hen.”
* BEHIND THE CHIMNEY.
A TIIANKSOIVINQ STORY.
It was Thanksgiving forenoon, and
can it be? Yes, it was thirty years
ago! Lou Hempstead and I had visit*
[ od the pantry to see the pies which
I had been baked the day before in the
| big stone oven.
"There’s mince, apple, and pump
. kin!” said Ixm, in a voice full of relish.
4 "And two little turnovers!” I ex-
quite sure in my own mind
■ who would eat them.
■ Then we came back in time to watch
Brratnlmother as she turned the turkej^.
THIB the lire. The was
\ I ‘*Bj)f irrcut At^ni's,and'" as so deep
il,dWoad that many a time I had sat
V \l one corner of it on a little stool
latching the logs burn and crumble
# wfto coals. But this day the fire was
i. >o big and hot, and the long crane
■ dd three or four iron pots, all bub-
Baling and steaming, ready to cook the
for dinner. There was a
f Jin “baker” before the lire, and in that
f*iay the turkey in a pan, slowly brown
x wig, and smelling so good, we little girls
■thought-.
B? Father and mother had gone to j
■ meeting to hear Lhh Thanksgiving ser- |
B ijpn, and Aunt Ann was busy setting ,
Bjfee table in the "keeping-room.” j
■bu and I stoinl bv the lire till our
■Seeks grew too rod and hot to bear it
|MJEgionger, and then we ran off to
■ty. There was a tall chest iff
Wm Awers in tlie keeping-room, and in it
■| one Aittle square drawer which
its brass handle. This had a
■wei nation for us because it was hard
§§■) open, and because it held odds and
Bids. After several trials we got it
jgß ui. and rummaged among the but -
IRBis and spools and things, till we
Blito across a wooden ball, carved
li a jack-knife, and inside it a
HBHnd ball partly done.
B>h. how pretty!” I cAed. “May I j
it. Aunt Ann ?”
looked at the ball and shook her
: v Mt it back, Maidie,” she said.
\ f ;; ■ grandmother thinks all the
Bof that, Giles Legan it before
‘ :- ii( to sea.**
Rußri*member my Uncle (.ilos. a
- B ’j.& boy of seventeen when ho
■o sea. That was more than
|P s's before, and they had not
■ from him for a year. 1 knew
BLothcr felt anxious about him. i
,|| b ars < ame into her *\ .•> when
! * iheniioned, but 1 was a
. / 'A ml 1. and had not taken it
Bbaßeif.
■wmt\- lie.i.e lie can make
Bfln|
HBl Maniasaid
.
to g-t
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g||fe* v . ** L yj %
~ * m m ■■■ minii i iiPuiwi ■ AiyMl
Then Lou and I went up garret to
find the kittens. There they were,
little heaps of fur, asleep in the dusty
sunshine. We roused them up for a
frolic, and made them beg and hold
out their paws. Then we wanted
something they could roll about, and I
put the little carved wooden ball down
on the floor, only meaning to leave it
there a minute till Lou got a spool out
of her pocket.
But the kittens were so full of play
they sprang at it as quick as *t flash,
and rolled it along the floor towards
the board partition. I ran after them,
and caught them both, but I could not
find the ball.
“It’s gone through that hole in the
boards,” said Lou, w hen we had search
ed behind lx>xes and barrels in vain.
“Let’s go around and get it.” I re
plied.
The board partition separated the
great dark space w hich was nearly all
occupied by the chimney, built of huge
rough stones, whose foundation rest
ed on the solid earth, far below, but
which, though lessening in size to
wards the top, w'as still so large there
by the garret stairs that it seemed like
a stone tower. On either side, be
tween the chimney and the garret par
titions, w T as a dark, narrow, cavernous
space, where the projecting stones
made a foothold, and where broken
chairs had been stowed away, making
a sort of barricade. The darkness
was almost blackness as we looked in
from the tep of the stairs.
"Your aunt Ann will scold if you
lose that ball,” said Hempstead.
"You don’t know. She isn’t your
aunt; you’re only third cousin!” A re
plied on the defensive, but secretly
I peered into the dark opening until
my eyes became used to the gloom, and
I could see, past the broken chairs, two
or three pieces of board resting on the
stones, and at the very farthest part al
most was something that ißght be the
ball.
“I see it! I’m going in after it I” I
exclaimed.
“Don’t you do it ! You’ll get killed !”
said Lou.
"But I pushed in by the chairs and
reached the first board safely. There
I stood, leaning against the chimney,
till I could see better, and then I peer
ed along on the next board. Yes, that
surely was the wooden carved ball al'
most at the end, half under a cobw’eb.
I took a step or two farther, and set
niv foot on the second board. Then I
ltxiked on and down into what seem
ed an abyss of darkness, but far below
was a little gleam of light. For an
instant I stood wondering what it
could be, ;ind then I took another step
reaching my hand to grasp the balL
The board tilted under my foot. I
felt myself slipping into the horror of
darkness! I heard Lou scream, and I
clutched despairingly at the rough
stones beside me. In that way I
steadied myself, and then I shut my
eyes till I got confidence enough to
step cautiously backward and recover
my footing on the first plank. It was
such a relief when J felt Lou Hemp
stead catch hold of my dress behind.
“I’ll hold on and pull, Maidie!” she
said, in a terror-stricken voice; but by
that time it was easy work to crawl
past the chairs back to the stair-top
again.
“But the ball is lost forever now!” I
said, ruefully, for even as I slipped, I
hail heard it bound off among the
stones.
“Never mind,” said Lou,comforting,
iy.
“But I do mind,” I replied, “for I
shall have to tell grandmother, and
that will make her think of Uncle
Giles, ajtd she’ll cry. Any way,though,
I won’t, tell her till after dinner,” I
added. - , * ■-
Loo 'ilress and hair, f
a,r *
BWafeiok and Auotyinn !
BB ' tWr
,**■"
“Hjmer’s abotit ready. to take m>,.|
girls,” she said, “ant£ Maidie, there's
your father hud Biother coming now.” j
The chicke%pie, the "biscuits and
butter and jelly# were already on the
and w® m to the kitchen to see
Aunt Ann take up the turk6v and
grandmother dish the vegetables.
“The turnips are mashed and the
onions are seasoned,” said grand- , f
mother. “I’m just going to take
the potatoes. For mercy’s‘sake, Ann,
what’s this?”
••i don’t know,” said Auir
isn’t a potatoj#
We j.rested oloseflj®
“Oh! ohl
cried. “It’s I loifflfyjf
down behind the chimney, and it fell
into the potato-pot!” '
I looked up and there was a little*!
open space Where the chimney stones ?
above projected unevenly against the
boards of the kitchen Walt And that
was where the light had crept through.
Grandmother said afterwards that she
left the lid off the potatoes just a mo
ment while she went to the dresser to
get some salt to throw in, so they
would boil white.
But at the time of the discovery, all
she said was, “Giles’ ball! Poor boy!
where is he now?” In a trembling
voice.
I was sure she was going to cry, and
I felt so bad I ran out past mother,
who was taking her bonnet off,
through the door and down to the
gate. And I leaned against it and
cried myself, for what with the terror
and excitement and reaction of the
whole thing, I was all unnerved. I
did not hear a quick step that came up
the road, nor see the tall young man in
blue who approached me. till 1 felt his
band on my shoulder, and looked up
to meet his bright eyes shining down
upon my tearful ones.
• “Aren't you my little niece?” he ask
ed, gaily.
“Oh, Uncle Giles! I knew you
wasn’t drowned!” I exclaimed; and
then he lifted me on his shoulder and
took me to thj* house in triumph.
Then my dear, precious grandmother
had no to shed any more tears,
except for jlure happiness, and the day
was. a day of thanksgiving indeed.—
Youth s' Compan ion.
Composition of the Madstone.
Several of applying the
madstone to \>isonous snake uites
have been repwted by the Western
newspapers recejk% and the testimo
ny of the patient„®i tjiat in every case
the stone has abs Hfi ythe poison. It
is a popular bel. W ' some parts of
j the country thafcjp* person . who ;
possesses one of these stones is armed
against all venomous creatures; but
the savants agree that the\ madstone is
nothing more than the concretion
found in of deer, and
that it has riotedical properties what
ever. Prof, yolmes, the Atlantic
Constitution says, dissected one the
size of a hen’s egg, and found its
nucleus to be a perfect white oak
acorn. It was covered by four layers
of phosphates and carbonate of lime
and iron and some silex. There were
two impressions, apparently made by
ftie teeth of the deer before swallow
ing the nut. Acorns are a favorite
food of Carolina deer. In another
specimen Prof. Holmes found the
nucleus to be a bullet*
Explicit Introductions.
They tell this story of the widow of
President Buchanan’s firss Postmaster
General: She had been married before,
and so had Postmaster General Brown,
and each had a daughter left over
from the first marriage. Then they
had another, daughter. Mis. Brown i
Mr. jsrawn sr u*Mi* T litar uv his^H
wife this is Mralanders/my dM
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STYLES OF All DRESS.
, Bow the Pruideut ■ Other Public
Ben Should Be addressed.
i A Washington letter to the New
York Evening Post says; “I have
l>een considerably amused in glancing
over the addresses on letters to
public men, to notice the different
styles which are used by people living
r at a distance. For instance, some
communications are addressed to the
“Horn A. Arthur, president of
fcheJpAltea States.” The simplest and
is to write, “To the Presi-
Executive Mansion. Washington,
; ■§.** In addressing the President )
BpHonallv you should always say, “Mr-
“Your Honor,” or “Your
KbMfency” is never used, and it is
bfdjjraidered in bad taste, vet it is no un
gjpmmon thing to hear public men
Trom the different parts of the country
open conversation with the presjjent
in these terms. The official title of
the governor of Massachusetts is “His
Excellency,” and that of lieutenant
governor, “His Honor,” but the presi
dent has no official title, and is called
simply, “Mr. President,” In address
ing communications to the cabinet offi
cers you should, however, write “The
Hon. Charles T. Folger, secretary of
the treasury; the Hon. William E
Chandler, secretary of the navy,” etc.;
but in personal intercourse you would
always say “Mr. Secretary,” “Mr. At
torney General,” or “Mr. Postmaster
General” Should you write to a sen
ator, you should direct to “The Hon.
George F. Hoar, M. C., Senate Cham
ber, Washington, D. C.,” and if a for
mal communication, commence the
epistle, “Mr. Senator,” which title
you should always use in private con
versation with him. Of course if you
tire an intimate friend you could take
greater liberties, and perhaps call him
“Dear George,” or something of that
f.ort; but I am talking now upon for
ir.al communications. A member of
the House is not so particular, howev
er. You ahould address him after
this style: “The Hon. John D. Long,
M. C., House of Representatives, Wash
ington, I). C.” In speaking to a mem
ber you would ordinarily address him
by his last name, but if he had ever
been a speaker, governor, or senator,
invariably give him that title, for it
is not only customary, but it gives him
the impression that you have made a
particular^study of his record. Many a
man has wrecked his chances by call
ing an ex-senator simply “Mr. Black.’’
You must have some knowledge of
the war in order to steer skilfully
tiround among these statesmen. If a
inember has been a general, call him
that, and you can safely go down as
Tar as major, but 1 would advise you
to draw the line in the last-named ti
tle, fora man who has served during
the war, and risen no higher than a
captain, does not like to have it thrown
Up in his face after he has been elected
to Congress. Ido not know how the j
custom was originated to Lmit the ti _ j
tie to the grade of major, but I do
know it to be a fact nevertheless In
a {dressing the speaker of the House*
you should always say “Mr. Speaker,"
and never Mr. Carlisle, and the justices
of the United States supreme court
the court of claims and other judicial
bodies of final resort, as “Mr. Chief j
Justice,” an i “Mr. Justice.” This is a
i Republican form of government, where
avery man is supposed to be as good j
as every other man, and a little better j
if he can make himself so, and these j
titles w'hich I have mentioned are as :
immovable as the long line in the court j
of “Victoria R.”
“What is a pharmaceutical associa
tion f asked a little damsel who had j
Carefully spelled out the long name in
Lgif* papers and the old gentleman
Krqpsed Hem a perusal of the stock
Kst answtemfe “Farmer cutical asso
ciation ? JMk l those fellows that go
fcr-uuu sUYiing the farmers, I sup
mme. don’t you read something
Bar?”
SHKSfcr •"
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ODD SAYINUS.
Origin of Some Often-(looted Words and
■‘hratei.
Crosspatch.—“ Patch” was at one
time a term of contempt. It did not
j as Paris suggests, necessarily mean a
fool, but signified what we now mean
by a contemptible fellow. ShaKespeare*
in “Midsummer Night’s Dream,*’ says:
A crew of patches, base mechanicals.
“Crosspateh” is the only remnant of the
word. It is very expressive of a cross*
ill-tempered, disagreeable person.
Mad as a March Hare.—A familiar
saying found in Skilton’s “Reply
Against Certayne .Young Scholars*
(1520), and also in Ileywood’s “Prov
erbs” (1546). A
Burden of a Song.—“Bourdon” istlio A
drone of a bagpipe,hence a running ac M
compamment <>r repetition of
sounds or words is culled the “burden
Sadder ami a Wiser Man.—TM
phrase is from the “Ancient Marinen
by Coleridge: .
A mlder and a wiser man
He rose the morrow morn.
Balderdash.—Originally the froth or
lather made by barbers in dashing balls
of soap backwards and- forwards in hot
water. J
I’ubbly spume or barbers bald rdiutli.
issw-^
Every to His Own
literal translation of the
erb, Chanun a son gout* It iij generally
used satirically, as, “Well,!didn’t think
he would associate with people of that
kind; but (with a shrug), every onetd
his own taste.”
Whisky. —The stuff itself was origi
nally an Irish manufacture, and was
cdled usquebaugh (pronounced us
kwe~baw), from uisge — water, and
beatha — life. It meant “the water of
life.” The reason the last syllable
omitted may be that its use oftener led
to death than to life. It was called
usque, and finally spelled whisky.
Folded Their Tents Like the Arabs.
—Longfellow, in his poem, “The Day
is Done,” wrote the verse from which
this now very common saying was
taken:
And the night ahull be filled with inuaic,
And the cures that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the A aim,
And as silently ateal away.
Siesta—This Spanish term for a nap
in the day-time has become completely
naturalized in this country. The Span
ish nap is usually taken about noon,
which, in their reckoning, is the sixth
hour (sesta). Hence in Spanish sestear
is to take the mid-day nap, and sestea
dor is the room appropriated for the
purpose, usually on the north side of
the house. j
Faint Heart Never Won Fair Lady.—
This is a very old proverb. Ln a
“Propef New Ballad in Praise of My
Lady Marynes,” printed in 1639, are
these lines:
Then have amongst ye once agaftl.
Faint hart* laire ladies nev tr win.
In “Britain's Ida,” by Spenser, Canto
v., Stanza i., the second line reads:
Oh, fool! faint heart fair lady never could win.
Cheers But Not Inebriatss. —Cowper f
used this phrase in reference to tea,but
it had been previously applied by
i Bishop Berkley to tar-water. In his
work “Siris,” paragraph 217, the Bishop
says: “Tar-water is of a nature so mild
and benign, and proportioned to the
human constitution, as to warm with
j out heating, to cheer but not inebriate,
and to produce a calm and steady joy
I like the effect of good news.”
Standing in Another’s Shoes.- -In an
■ article on “Legal Usages Among the
Ancient Northmen/in Baviey*s graphic
illustration (London, 1834), it is said:
“The right of adoption obtained one
form of it consisted in making the
adopted put on the shoes of the adopter.
It has been asked whether our phrase
| of ‘standing in his shoes,’ may not ow*
its origin to this custom.”
.j!UiiLL;igs-i *
In France there are 2,150 lady art
\ ists, of whom 602 are oil painters, 107
sculptors, 193 mi nature painters, and j
754 painters .a porcelain.
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