The midland journal., July 03, 1896, Image 1

About The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947

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THE MIDLAND JOURNAL,
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n DENT,BT ’
Rising Sun, Cecil Co., • Md.
oct22-ly
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NOTICE
BY the Orphans' Court fob Cecil County, I
January 9,1894. J
Ordered, That all Administrators, Ex
ecutors and Guardians that have not stated
an account within a year, come forward and
do the same, or show cause to the contrary,
or they will be cited up.
Test: R. E. JAM AK, Re S ister
ORPHANS’ COURT.
The Stated Meetings of the Orphans’
Court of Cecil comity will be held on the
second Tuesday ofeverv month. Executors
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their accounts stated, will please bring in
their vouchers a few days before Court.
Test: R. E. JAMAH, Register
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: 11 jIIDLANP] |j[OUBNAL]
1 VbLTxviiL~ RISING SUN, CECIL COUNTY. MIL, FRIDAY, JULY 3, 1896. NO. 43.
OLD GOLDEN’S TAKING OFF.
The Full Story of the End of the
Terror of Pike County.
Uow, After Years of Triumphant Conflict
with Man and Beast, He Died,
Facing Both, with Ills Back
to a Itock.
“The fall and winter I lvas up in Pike
county looking over the timber land
for the Jay street lumber firm,” said
an old New Yorker, “Red Drake, the
woodsman, said to me in a very mys
terious manner one day:
“ ‘I seen Old Golden yiste’day.’
“If Red noticed the puzzled look that_
must have been on my face he paid no
attention to it.
“ ‘First time he’s been seen' in this
part o’ the county in five years or
more,’ said Red. ‘Don’t say notliin’ to
nobody, and I’ll take you out to-morrer
and introduce y r ou to him. He’s layin’
low in the woods, over around my chop
pin’ job some’rs. I don’t want it to
git out, though, for to-morrer is town
meetin’, and if it got out that Old
Golden was nosin’ around here ag’in
there wouldn’t be a vote.cast in the hull
township. The hull population ft-oni
the Shohola to the Panpack’d be skit
terin’ through the woods, tryln’ to git
their hands on Old Golden. So keep
mum, and me and you’ll go out tomor
rer and spend an hour or so with him.
He’ll make it worth while, if he’s feelin"
good. There’s a reward offered to any
one that takes him and delivers him at
the county seat, but none o’ these fel
lers around here is goin’ to git it if I kin
help it.’
“I thought to myself that here was
I some backwoods desperado, a fugitive
from justice, and I didn’t show much
enthusiasm about going out and meet
ing him.
“ ‘ls he a friend of yours?’ I asked
Red Drake,
“ ‘Who? Old Golden?’ Red ex
claimed.
“ ‘Yes,’ said I.
“ ‘Well, not to any alarmin’ stretch,
he ain’t!’ replied Red. The last time
' 1 seen him before yiste’day he knocked
me down and jumped on me, and if it
hadn’t been for Ed Quick coinin’ up I’d
be campin’ on the happy huntin’
grounds now. Put he heard Ed cornin’
i and he cut sticks and run. No, sir!
Old Golden ain’t no friend o’ mine!
Same time, I ain’t goin’ to let none o’
; these fellers round here take him, not
if I kin help it. Why? ’Cause I want
to take him myself. Here comes Sim
Lord. Don’t say a word, and to-morrer
me and you’ll go out and have a look at
the ugly old cuss.”
“Red went away, and X inwardly re*
( solved that I wouldn’t be anywhere in
sight next day when lie came for me to
i go with him to the woods. That very
night, singularly enough, I heard some
more about this mysterious Old Golden.
Half a dozen or more backwoods citi
zens gathered at the tavern during the
evening to talk over the prospects of
next day’s town meeting. Before the
session was over Bill Nyce, who lived
three or four miles further on, came in.
He was on his way home from the
[ county seat, and brought with him an
exciting item of news. A man had
been convicted of murder at Milford,
and sentenced to be hanged. The man
had killed a fellow-laborer on the Erie
railroad a few mo: lis before, at Lack
awaxen. This news was commented
upon for some time, and when interest
In it waned a little Nyce said:
“ ‘I heard another bit of news on my
way in. Old Golden is dead.’
“ ‘Wh-arM-t!’ came in startled
chorus from the group of woodsmen.
“ ‘So Dicky Hoffman told me,’ said
Nyce. ‘Jake Bensley met him down in
Lehman township. There was a fight,
, and Jake killed him. Shot him dead in
l his tracks.’
9
“ ‘When was this?’ some one asked.
“ ‘Something like two weeks go,’
said Nyce.
“ ‘IIow r kin that be?’ said a woodsman.
‘Old Golden was over on the Pan pack
only last week.’
“ ‘How do you know ?’ asked Nyce.
“ ‘How do I know?’ replied the other.
‘Didn’t Marcus Keilam see him?’
“ ‘Did Marcus ICellam say he seer
him?’
“ ‘He told me so himself, afore yiste’-
day.’
“This seemed to be a puzzler for
’ everybody. Marcus Keilam was a
great hunter, and if he said he saw a
thing or did a thing, no one ever ques
tioned it. But then here was news com
ing straight from Dicky Hoffman, who
generally knew what ho was talking
about, that Jake Bensley had killed
Old Golden a week before Marcus Kil
lam had seen him on the l’anpack, clear
on the other side of the county, and
Jake Bensley was a great hunter, too.
and what he said folks generally be
lieved. One wiry-looking woodsman of
the group at the tavern I noticed hadn’t
; had anything to say during the excite
ing conversation that ensued over the
s subject of Old Golden and bis alleged
1 taking off. This was Ed Quick (of the
Blooming Grove country. At last,
though, he roused himself and said:
“ ‘lf you go down to Porter’s pond in
about six weeks, when the ice is gone
out, and poke around on the bottom
nigh the outlet, the chances is that
you’ll find Old Golden. That’s whar
l Mose Coolbaugh says, anyways.’
“ ‘When did Mose Coolbaugh say
that?’ asked Bill Nyce.
“ ‘He didn’t sat that, e’zac’ly,’ said
Ed Quick, ‘but he said that three
; months ago, w-hen the ice just come oil
the pond, who should come sneakin’
out o’ the woods on the east side o’ the
pond but Old Golden. Mose Coolbaugh
and Bill Overfield was cornin’ on the
west side. They seen him stop on the
edge o’ the pond and then start across
on the ice, headin’ straight for their
cabin.
“ • “That’s him, sure!” says Mose.
“‘“Him!” says Bill. "I should say
it was!"
“ ‘ “Seems like a terrible shtuno to
lay for him and git him,” says Mose,
“but it ought to be done.”
“ • “Can’t be done safe no otherway,”
says Bill.
“ ‘So they laid for him in their cabin,
but they didn’t git him. Nobody else’ll
never git him, neither. Not unless they
dredge fer him. The ice broke with him
fore he’d gone 100 yareds, and down
he went under it ami never come up.
ag’in. Mose no.- Bill didn’t dast go out
to try and save him, for fear they’d
break through too, and so I can’t see
how Jake Ilenslcy could a killed him
down in Lehman two weeks ago. And
if Marcus Keilam seen him last week,
the old cuss’ spook must be roamin’
round the county. Mose Coolbaugh’s
up to Sol Westbrook’s now. I heard
• him only last night tell about seem’
Old Golden drown’d in Porter’s pond.
You mowt go up and ask him, if you
dont’ believe me.’
“ ‘Well,’ said a w oodsman, ‘whether
Old Golden was drowned last fall or
shot two weeks ago, it’s a good red
dance if he’s gone.’
“I didn’t know what Red Drake would
have said to all this if he had been
there, for according to him this mys
terious and apparently übiquitous out
law, or outcast, or w hatever he was, was
even then in hiding in the woods hard
by. I kept Red’s secret though, and
after tho men had gone I said to Sim
Lord:
“‘Who is this Old Golden, anyhow?
And what has he done?’
‘“Who is he?’ said Sim. ‘Why, he’s
the biggest and ugliest and toughest
and smartest buck that ever bossed
tilings in anybody’s woods. What has
he done? He’s done most everything
but kill folks, and he’s come pretty nigh
to doin’ that. For more than ten years,
off and on, he’s kept Pike county wor
ried most out of her boots. Every time
he shows up in the district every con
sarned other deer there is in it gits out
of it as soon as he can. They can’t live
in tho same woods with him, he pitches
into ’em so. When he can’t find liis own
kind to rip and tear, he don’t think noth
in’ o’ cornin’ right into the settlements
and rlppln* and tearin’ folks’ cattle. He
skipped into John Kip’s pasture lotonee,
up in the Promised land neighborhood,
and John’s shorthorn buil.that was as
much ag’in bigger than him, made a
rush for the buck, to show him the way
out o’ the lot ag’in. One o’ Kip’s boys
seen what followed. The buck danced
all around the bull and punched him so
full o’ holes with his horns and his sharp
front hoofs that when they took the
hide off o’ the bull an hour or so later.
It looked like a big fish net. Kip’s boy
said it wasn’t hardly no time ’fore the
buck made the bull bite the dust—the
same dust he pawed up so fierce when he
started in to show the buck the Highest
way out o’ the pasture.
“ ‘When Kip’s boy run home and tokl
what had happened, and they got back
to the pasture lot with the dogs and
guns, the old buck was gone. The dogs
took liis track and followed him. Only
one dog ever came back out of the four
that started in on the thail. The hunt
ers kept finding dogs on the trail, bored
through and through by the buck’s
horns. When they met the fourth one
coming back on three legs and bleeding
considerable they gave up the chase.
“ ‘That buck has been hunted from
the Susquehanna to the Delaware and
back ag’in, and I’ll bet that tons o’
powder and ball has been used up firin’
at him, but none of it hain’t never laid
him low' yit. Somebody give him tlio
name of Old Golden, and his name has
been a terror to everybody, and some
thin’ to scare young ones with ever
since. Seems to me that a three-weeks
old baby, even, will stop bawlin’ if you
tell it Old Golden’ll ketch it if it don’t.
Five year ago this rampagin’ old buck
had drove the deer out o’ the county so
1 that some fellers at the county seat
’ offered SSO reward for his cardass. That
stands good yit.
“ ‘Dicky Hoffman says Jake Bensley
, killed him two weeks ago. .Take didn’t
do nothin’ o’ the kind. He killed a
slammin’ big buck, but it wasn’t Old
1 Golden. Mose Coolbaugh says that him
and Bill Overfield seen him drowned
in Porter’s pond three months ago
They think they did, but they didn’t.
A buck that’s smart enough to get the
best of all the hunters and dogs that
lias chased it from Dan to Beersheby
these ten years ain’t such a lunkhead
of a blame fool as to walk out on thin
ice and drowned himself. Marcus Kei
lam says he seen Old Golden last week
i over on Panpack. That’s more like It
I shoudn’t be su’prised if he was prow
lin’ ’round this end o’the country ag’in.
■ He’s let us alone a good while, lie bet
ter keep his eye peeled, though, if
he’s foolin’ ’round where Marcus Kel
I lam is.’
“So Old Golden was a four-footed
' desperado. I felt relieved, and changed
I my mind about being out of sight when
Red Drake came for me next morning to
go to the woods with him. I w’as ready
! when he got around, and the first thing
: I said to him was:
“ ‘Red, did you hear that Old Golden
• was dead ?’
1 “Red dropped into the big barroom
> chair as if he* had been knocked into
. it. He stared wfildly at me for a spell,
and then gasped:
1 “ ‘Who—who—who got him ?’
- “ ‘Word came last night that Jake
i Bensley shot him down in Lehman two
: weeks ago.’
"Red’s grin came back to his face.
“ ‘Which it must a been Old Golden’*
ghost I seen day afore yisterday then,
not two miles from here,’ said he. ‘lt
| mowt a been, and then ag’in it mowtn’t
: A little more mowtn’t than mowt, I’ve
i an idee.’
’ “ ‘Marcus Keilam says, though, that
: he saw the old chap over on I’anpack
i last week,’ said I.
i “ ‘Then we got to git into the woods
: right away, liy fury‘ ’ exclaimed Red,
• jumping up and grabbing liis gun. ‘lf
’ Marcus Keilam seen Old Golden last
week, Marcus is some’rs on the ran
tankerous buck’s trail, and we-hain’tgot
’ no time to waste I’
“So he hurried me off to the woods,
i ‘We’re goin’ to etUl hunt for him,’
fa id Tied, on the way. 'l naint got r.-o
dog, and I hain’t go in’ to risk no bor
ricd dog on him. Old Golden has got a
way o’ borin’ holes in dogs noways
pleasin’ to them that owns ’em.’
•‘\Ve still hunted for him for three or
four hours, but not a sign of Old Golden
did we see. I was about tuckered out,
and lied began to look disappointed.
“ ‘The old cuss must ,a heerd that
Marcus Kellam seen him,’ said Red,
‘and has jist natur’ly dug out for some
other deestrlc’.’
“By and by Red told me to move on
until I came to a big dead pine tree that
stood on the side of the ridge about a
mile up the creek, while he went off
to the south and circled back again and
came out and met me.
“If he ain’t layin’ some’rs in the
bailiwick,’ said he, ‘he has shook the
dust o’ these parts off his hoofs and
left us in the lurch, certain. If you see
him, be sure you bring him the first
shot. If you don’t, the changes is that
he’ll bore you and stump you.’
“With this cheering assurance Red
started on Ills course, and soon was out
•of sight. I moved on, with no partic
ular yearning for a meeting with Old
Golden. I had come within sight of the
dead pine tree when I heard a great
snarling and snapping off to my right.
The noise sounded like a dog fight. I
worked my way cautiously through the
brush toward the spot the sounds came
from, and found that I could probably
get a good sight of what was going on
from a little knoll on which there was
a group of hemlock trees.
“I reached that elevation, and peer
ing from behind one of the trees saw a
sight indeed. On the further side of the
opening, and not 50 feet away, was a
large rock. Backed up close to the
rock w;is an immense buck, with an
amazing spread of antlers. Ilis head
was lowered until his nose almost
touched the snow. In front of him.
one well off to the right side and one
to the left, were two fierce and bristling
animals which I knew were wolves, al
though I had never seen a wolf before.
Some distance away, lying in the snow,
which was dyed red with blood, lay
another wolf, dead. The picture told
the story. The two remaining wolves
made quick and savage dashes at the
buck, that sprang as quickly forward
to meet them, lunging wickedly at
them with his many pointed horns. The
fight evidently had been in progress
for some time. I knew that the buck
must be the famous, or infamous. Old
Golden. My heart hammered away
against my breast so that it almost
choked me. Although here was such a
chance as any woodsman in the county
would have given all he possessed t>
have, I don’t believe I could have
plucked up nerve enough to take ad
vantage of It if somebody else hadn’t
happened.
“I stood there behind the tree, peer
ing at the fight between the wolves
and the buck. I must be as pale as
a glio6t. By and by roy eye caught a
movement In the woods off to the letft,
nud glancing that way I saw a.hun
ter stealing up from that direction.
He was so taken up with the sight in
the opening that he had not discov
ered me. He was a stranger to me.
He stopped, and I saw that he was pre
paring to do what I hadn't thought of
doing—shoot. That decided me.
“ ‘lf that man gets Old Golden,’ it
flashed through my mind, ‘l’ll never
dare look Red Drake in the face again B
“I pulled up my gun. I’ll never tell
you where I aimed, but I fired. I saw
the big buck give one great leap in the
air and'then tumble in the snow and lie
there with scarcely another movement.
The wolves disappeared in the woods.
Mechanically I glanced again at the
stranger. He still had his gun at his
shoulder. He was looking at me, and
I’ll never forget the expression on his
face. We stood there staring at each
other, without a word, for at least a
minute. Then the hunter dropped his
gun, stepped out into the opening, and
gazing down at the dead buck, ex
claimed:
“ ‘I couldn’t have done it any better
myself!’
"Then I wilted right down where 1
stood, and I don’t believe I could have
got up if another buck ns big and ugly
us Old Golden had been coming for
me head on. The hunter was still gaz
ing at the dead deer when Red Drake
came crashing through the brush and
broke panting on the scene. When he
saw the hunter, Red was a sight to look
at. •
‘‘‘Marcus Kellam, by fury!’ he ex
claimed. ‘I heerd this mornin’ that you
had seen him over on Panpack. I was
afeard I’d be a little too late! And I
be!’
“Before the other hunter could reply
Red saw me sitting in the •snow, up
against the tree.
“ ‘ ’Twasn’t Marcus that pinged him.
neither!’ he shouted, rushing toward
me. ‘lt was you, by fury! Hooray!’
“It is hardly necessary to say that
there was a great time at the settlement
when we got in with the great trophy.
There was nothing too good for me
iu the county. I think 1 could have
been elected sheriff. Yet, as I told them,
it was due to Marcus that I killed Old
Golden.
“ ‘And if them wolves hadn’t strayed
in here from some’rs and cornered the
old cuss,’growled Ed Quick, ‘neither one
o’ you would have killed him!’
“Which was probably true.’’—NT Y.
Run.
Important Correction.
Under the “Terror,” in France, peo
ple learned to be excessively cautious
In all they snid, and still more cautious
in what they wrote. An old letter is
said to be in existence of the revolution
ary period, in which the author had at
first written to a friend: “1 write under
the reign of a great emotion.” Then,
apparently reflecting that it was dan
gerous to speak of “reigns” at such an
epoch, he amended the sentence thus:
“I write under the republic of a great
emotion.”—Youth’s Companion.
—O wind, if winter comes, can spring
be far behind?—Shelley.
IDEAS FOR STOUT WOMEN.
Lose Flesh by Dieting: and Wearing: Cer
tain Garments.
Some one has said of matrimony that
“it is a sort of cage which all who are
out desire to get in and all who are
in desire to get out.” This sentence may
be applied to stoutness, for all thin
people want to be stout, at least mod
erately stout, while all stout people ar
dently wish to be thin.
It must be confessed, however, that
the thin people are by no means as
eager for a change as their fat friends,
who loudly groan and complain under
their burden. Undue embonpoint ages
a woman. At 28, if she weighs 14 or 16
stone, she looks to be over 40. Her
step is heavy, she can no longer dance
jr walk or exercise with pleasure. Her
clothes wear out more quickly and she
is more difficult to dress to advantage.
All this she feels and murmurs at de
spite the smoothness of her unwrinkled
countenance and despite the fact that it
is far easier for the stout to get thin
than for the naturally thin to get stout.
All sweets and farinaceous foods must
be avoided by the stout woman if she
wishes to grow thin and the daintiest
and lightest dishes indulged in.
I know it is a very trying ordeal to
be present at a good dinner and allow
the most tempting and appetizing
plates to pass untasted, but think of
it—it is still worse to grow positively
fat, Isn’t It?
A stout woman must dine on a mut
ton cutlet and slice of dried toast, a lit
tle soup and drink claret and water, for
whatever her searchings of heart, what
ever her leanings, she must force her
self to recognize that plain food token
sparingly and exercise will reduce
weight. Self-restraint must bo her
motto and if she casts it aside she does
it at her peril.
The ambition of tho stout woman
must be to have her size attract as lit
tle attention os possible, and if she
wears dull stuffs the eye, so to say,
glances off and is not fixed by any un
usual brilliancy. Stripes are advan
tages for the skirt, but not so much so
for the bodice. Broadly speaking, how
ever, all peklne materials worn in their
length are becoming.
The bodice should be out oil in very
Eloping V’s, with downward points. If
she consults her interests she will be
careful to have tho underarm seam long,
and to do this will, if necessary, have to
bring it more to the front of the arm
hole than is usual. The basque must
be cut away on the hips und the sleeves
droop slightly, as is the mode. For
street wear short mantles will be found
best; jackets arc rarely suitable, but if
idopted should be of the reefer shape.
In dressing her hair a woman must
always avoid ugly “corners” at her tem
ples, by so arranging the fringe as to
cover these bare spots prettily. If she
has wide cheeks she must by no means
adopt a narrow coiffure, as this will
give her face the shape of a pear, small
est at the forehead and broadening out
like that of Louis Phillipe.
Mrs. Russell Ilovey, one of the great
est authorities on matters of dress, once
said: “Fat is only an injury to beauty
when it spoils the shape. It keeps the
skin smooth and unwrinkled and so is
often a benefit to women when it comes
to advancing years. What wo have to
do ia to make size expressive. We must
have long lines to enhance the height
and heavy fabrics to obscure by theii
folds unsightly protuberances. Tho fai
woman who in a tailor-made gown
Ehows off every inch of her bulk is a de
plorable spectacle. She might, with
proper dressing, look big and grand,
soft and lovely, so as to make little
women and men look mean and com
monplace beside her. The great secret
for anyone who is over-stout, therefore
is not to show her outlines.
“For those who regard the corset oq
absolute necessity let mo whisper in
their ears this little piece of advice:
Never fasten it by a single lace, but by
three, after the French fashion. 01
these tho first should come from t'w
shoulder to within an inch or two of the
waist. The second should begin abouf
an inch or so below the waist and con
tinue to the end of tho corset. Both
these should be firmly fastened off and
should not vary in size at any time,
being left very open, so as to allow the
figure and especially the cheßt full
liberty to expand. The third, the only
one to be tightened or loosened at will,
comes in the middle from a little above
to a little below the waist, and left quite
loose in the morning may be gradually
drawn in if it be necessary to put on e
gown.”—Philadelphia Tel
egraph.
Doa’ts for Mothers.
Don’t nag.
Don’t be too severe.
Don’t break your promises.
Don’t neglect your husband for the
baby.
Don't spoil tho children by overindul
gence.
Don’t talk about the children In their
hearing.
Don’t forget that you were once a
child yourself.
Don't forget that your friends can
hardly be expected to share your own
absorbing interest in your infants.
Don’t claim that the children inher
ited all their bad qualities from theii
father and all their good ones from
you.
Don’t forget that every child should
be entitled to a happy childhood, and
that in latex life you may not have the
power or privilege of making it happy
or guarding it from unhappiness.—De
troit Free Press.
A Illg Shark.
A shark measuring 16 feet in length
is announced as having been captured
lately in the harbor of Sydney, N. S. W.
The fish’s stomach, on being opened,
was found to contain a large dog’s col
lar, a man’s coat, a briarwood pipe,
some coppers and a great number of
safety pins.
•—ln 1839, by an act of parliament, the
use of dogs in London to draw carts os
beasts of burden was abolished.
A FAMILY CURSE.
IB Seems to Have Held On for Moro Than
a Century.
For more than 100 years, It was said,
a fatal spell hung over the Goldsmlds.
Toward the close of the 18th cen
tury there died in London the Rabbi
de Falk, who enjoyed a high reputation
as a seer. He left to Aaron Goldsmid, a
great-great-grandfather of the late
member for St. Pancras, a sealed packet,
with injunctions that it was to be care
fully preserved, but never opened. Tho
old Dutch merchant who founded the
branch of the Goldsmid family in this
country was warned that as long as
his order was obeyed, so long would
the Goldsmlds flourish like a young
bay tree. If it were disregarded, ill
fortune would for all time dog the foot
steps of the race. Aaron Goldsmid left
the packet inviolate for some years.
One day, curiosity becoming ungovern
able, he opened it. When his servant
came to call him he was found dead.
Aaron Goldsmid left a large portion of
his fortune to two sons, Benjamin and
Abraham. These went into business
on the London stock exchange, and vast
ly increased their patrimony. Benja
min founded a naval college and per
formed many acts of less known gener
osity. He lived long, but the curse of
the cabalist overtook him. Enormous
ly rich, the delusion that he would die
a pauper fastened upon him, and to
avoid such conclusion of the matter,
he, on April 5, 1808, being in his 55th
year, died by his own hand. Two years
later his brother Abraham, being con
cerned in a ministerial loan of £ 14,000,-
000, lost his nerve, blundered and
bungled, sank into acondition of helpless
despondency, and on September 28,
1810, a day on which a sum of £ 500,000
was due from him, he was found dead
in his room.
The fortunes of the family were re
stored by Isaac Goldsmid, nephew of
the hapless brothers and grandson of
the founder of the English house. Like
all the Goldsmids, Isaac was a man o<
generous nature and philanthropic
tendencies. With him jt seemed that
the curse of the cabalist had run its
course. It is true that before he died
he lapsed into a state of childishness.
But he had at the time passed the limit
of age of fourscore years, after which
as one of the kings of his race wrote
centuries back, man’s days ore but
labor and sorrow. Isaac Goldsmid was
succeeded in his fortune and his baron
etcy by his son Francis, on whom the
curse of the cabalist seemed to fall when
ho was fatally mangled between the
engines and the rails at Waterloo sta
tion.—H. W. Lucy, in “From Behind the
Speaker’s Chair.”
WOULD NOT CUT HIS HAIR.
Uarahal Canrobert Refused to Obey the
Army Regulations,
It was a singular fact that the late
Marshal Conrobert, tho last of the
French marshals, offered in himself a
ions tant example of the violations of
(he regulations of the army in which he
ivas so conspicuous an officer. Through
out almost the whole of his military
service Canrobert wore long hair flow
'ng' down his shoulders, and this hair
.vos a sort of oriflumme to the soldiers.
But ever since the year 1833 the French
irmy regulations have positively re
juired that every officer and soldier
(hall wear closely cut hair, “without
my tufts, curls or ringlets whatsoever.”
snd severe penalties are provided for
persistence in letting the hair grow
toDg.
Canrobert hod a profuse mass of hair
vhich ho was very proud of. It was
cropped to his great grief when he went
into the military school of St- Cry in
1620, but when, os a young officer, he
went into the Algerian war in 1835 he
profited by the relaxation of many reg
ulations there to let his ha ir grow down
!iis shoulders again. Several years later,
also, in Algeria Col. Canrobert, bare
headed, led a heroio charge at Zaatcha
md his long floating hair, in the thick
of tho combat, served as a rallying sign
to the zouaves as they swarmed through
the breach. After this war Canrobert’s
lead of hair had already become so fa
mous that no superior ventured to com
mand him to cut it off, though Gen.
Pelissior, who hated him, once called
lim "professor” in a cafe in Paris, and
byway of excuse affected to have mis
atken him for a doctor of philosophy od
account of his hair.
The emperor Napoleon 111. did once
venture to remonstrate with Canrobert
for wearing long hair. Tho marshal’s
response was very "Frenchy.”
“Sire,” ho said, “my hair belongs to
history I”
Ho did not cut it off. It floated all
through the French and German war,
becoming legendary among the soldiers.
Long since it became snow white and
fell upon the old marshal's shoulders
in his declining days, and it clustered
about them as Ids body lately lay in
state In Paris. —London Tit-Bits.
Canadian English.
When Jeon Baptiste goes on his trav
els he takes a tisket, with a check for
his baggage, and enters a train. (He
used to go to the station in a gig, ac
cording to M. de Gaspe, but I never
heard him use the word, though I know
he patronizes the cab-stand rather than
the “place de fiacres.”) “All aboard 1”
shouts the French guard. “All right,”
says tho French passenger. I remem
ber one day, going do\vnfrom Mon
treal to Quebec, hearing the guard ask
a swarthy habitant for his “billet:"
“Eh?” said he, puzzled. “Votre ti
quette," explained the guard. “Oh, Je
comprends. Le voici.” I have even
encountered a sentence like this: “Nous
leur donnerons des free ticket-” Jean
Baptiste will also tell you, if you desire
such information, that the train con
sists of “douze chars et un engin,” in
stead of “douze wagons et un locomo
tive ; ” but he still finds time to call the
railway Itself a “oh’mln d’fer,” having
cut down the syllables from four to
two. —Contemporary Review.
—A traveler by mail routes may oover
the distance between New York and
San Domingo city in nine days.
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Got What She Was After.
“And to think,” shrilly vociferated
Mrs. Absalom Joyce, when the family
quarrel had reached its acute stage,
“that my wealth would onco have
brought to my feet many a man worth a
dozen of you I But I thought I wanted
you and I bought you! I simply bought
you! ”
“You are right, my dear!” retorted
Absalom, pale with wrath; “you paid
your money and took your Joyce.”—
Tit-Bits.
A Rogue Exposed. '
Winkel (at —That Eng
lish lord is an impostor. He is not even
an Englishman. He’s an American.
Minkel—Eh? How did you find that
out?
Winkel —I offered to call for him with
my carriage to-morrow, and take him
a little drive around tho suburbs—•
Maine, Texas, California, etc.; and in
stead of accepting the offer, he laughed.
—N. Y. Weekly.
Sad Thoughts.
In the spring the young man’s fancy ’
Lightly turns to thoughts of how
Ho got rid of good hard dollars
And wishes that he had ’em now;
His mind’s eye sees the coming summer.
With outing pleasures’ madding whirl.
And quarts on quarts of Ice-cream sodas
Bought to feed his summer girl.
—Detroit Free Press.
CAUSE AND EFFECT.
Ryer—l was overcome by the breaks
era while at Inland City.
Hill —Breakers! Why, there aren’t
any in that vicinity!
Ryer-J-I guess you don’t know tha
girls who spend tho summer therel-'
To Date.
Naturally.
He went to buy a coffee oup, '
“ A mustache one,” said he, ~
** And mark on It ‘To Mary Ann,*
Because It’s for, you see.
The bearded lady now on show
At Smith and Brown’s musee."
—Art In Dresa.
Foolish Man’s Argument.
“But there’s nothing wrong with
bloomers,” she protested.
“Oh, no,” he answered. “There’s
nothing intrinsically wrong with
tights, either, but I wouldn’t care to
have my daughter wear them as a regu
lar thing.”
And thereupon she said he was a
narrow-minded man and the argument
ended. —Chicago Evening Post.
Obeyed Orders.
Miss Belle —Mary, remember I am at
home to none but Mr. Ver© Brownkina
this afternoon.
Mary (half on hour later) —I’ve told
four gentlemen callers that you were at
homo to none except Mr. Vere Browns
kins. Miss, and they all went away very
angry Indeed, miss.—Tit-Bits.
So Did lift.
Mrs. Grimble (to her offspring)—
TherA you go, tracking tho floor all
over with mud. Didn’t I tell you to
wipe your feet before you came In?
Johnny—Oh, nobody’s blaming you,
ma; you did all you could. Boston
Transcript.
What It Denote*.
“Have you heard her sing?” r
“Oh, yes.” '
“Well, what do you think her method
denotes?”
“A total lack of sympathy and con
sideration for others."—Chicago Even
ing Post.
That Precious Baby.
Air. Smart—Let me carry that dog,
my dear, and you carry tho baby.
Mrs. Smart—No, no! You carry the
baby; I couldn’t trust you with Zip,
You’d let tho poor fellow fall. I’ll
carry Zippy m3’Bolf. —N. Y. World.
Not Yet Overthrown.
“I’ve got one advantage over yod
still,” said tho carriage horse, looking
at the bicycle in the next stall. “When
I’m worn out I can bo worked up into
glue and canned beef, and you can’t-"
Chicago Tribune.
The Correct Expression.'
Skidmore—They say that Dinwiddle
was elected a member of the school
board by a handsome majority.
Kilduff —It Is true. Nearly all the
ludies voted for him. Detroit Free
Press.
A. to Theosophy.
She—Such an absurd doctrine! How
con anyone believe that a person, after
being dead, can come to life again?
ne—Our office boy presents a strang
er phenomenon than that. He’s dead
and olive oil the time.—Town Topics.
Gently Put.
Servant—ls that ink indelible ?
Alaster—l hope so.
Servant—You wouldn’t if you knew.
Master—lf I knew what?
Servant—That I spilled it on your
new light suit.—Texas Siftings.
Why He Capitulated.
Kate (acidly)—How did you get Jack
to propose to you, dear?
Alary—l told him that you were mad,
ly in love with him, and were deter
mined to have him at any cost, dearest
—> Tit-Bits.
A Fast Life.
When onco started downward a man will
proceed
On hla way to destruction and grief al
fool speed.