St. Paul daily globe. [volume], September 19, 1886, Page 16, Image 16

About St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896

Image provided by: Minnesota Historical Society; Saint Paul, MN

                
1 6
SCENES IN THE CITY.
An Asea and Venerable Man Who
Walks About the Streets of
St. Paul.
His Conduct on Viewing the Spires
of a Certain Catholic Church
Building.
Punishment Inflicted on a Lazy
Italian for Neglect ing His Duty
The Balloon Man.
A Question of Doubt that Very
Often .Exercises a Powerful
Influence. #
SHE QUESTIONED HIM.
"Dare I trust you?"
The speaker was a young woman, whose
sombre dress and crape trimmings pro
claimed the fact that she was either a widow
or a recent mourner over some near and
dear relative. As she stood in the mellow
light of the dimly illuminated drawing
room her beauty of face and figure was
most striking. Dainty did she appear as
she toyed with her gloves, which . had just
been removed, and again with the crape
strings to her bonnet, folding and smooth
ing out the creases as she sought to make
up her mind.
Before her stood a young man. lie was
going away. A traveling bag was sus
pended from his shoulder. lie had his hat
in his hand and moved it around as the
conversation progressed. He looked not at
the pretty mourner out directed his gaze to
the carpet and, with his umbrella, was
busily engaged in tracing out the patterns
and designs thereof.
He said not a word in reply to her query,
which forms the opening sentence of this
brief little romance in real life. Neither
did he move toward the party propounding
the question. Dignified and apart he sat,
determined, apparently, not to commit
himself too easily.
"Can I trust you?" she repeated, as if
talking to herself.
"So you doubt my — he asked.
'•Not in the least," she said.
"Why do you ask this," he continued.
"Because,"" replied she, "since 1 have
been keeping boarders 1 have learned to
trust nobody. You must either pay your
bill, or leave your trunk as security.
ax AGED 7IOITRXEK.
An old man— venerable man with long
white hair, can be seen almost any pleasant
day strolling aimlessly about the streets of
St. Paul. His
steps are short
and feeble; his
form is bent.
Age is evident
at lust glance,
for it has left
its traces in his
wrinkled face,
his bony hands
and in his
whole make
up. He car
ries a cane,
does this aged
pedestrian aud
walks, wit li
great care and
not a little cx J
ertion.
Apparently not interested in the passing
objects, or the passers by, as lie slowly
moves alone the familiar streets and ave
nues, he looks neither to the left or right.
Down on the ground he concentrates his
gaze and only looks up when required to
do so in order that a collision may be
averted. In a study, deep and all-absorb
ing, does he appear to be, as he trudges
along.
No particular portion of the city claims
his attention. He is seen in nearly every
locality. New buildings have no charm
for him, as he passes them by without
more than a hasty glance. The most
noticeable public improvements stay not his
steps for a moment. He appears surprised
when such improvements prevent his travel
over certain streets that he is wont to
traverse, but goes around the obstructions
and continues on his journey.
Time and again he passes the German
Catholic church on the corner of Ninth and
Franklin streets, and every time the im
mense structure appears in sight he takes
off his hat and bows most humbly at the
two tall spires. No matter what the state
of the weather, in sunshine and in the rain,
he fails not to perform his self-imposed
obeisance. His long white locks are scat
tered by the wind, or are dampened by the
rain as he removes his hat.
r His story is a simple one. His only son
was engaged as a carpenter on the church
edifice. High up on the spire the young
man was employed during the construction
'of the building. He fell: the result of
some accident, and was killed instantly.
His old father never quite got over the
schock and broods over his son's untimely
death. In some vague way the old man
feels called upon to raise his hat to the
steeple whereon his boy met a sudden
death. He performs the self-imposed duty
on all occasions.
AN ITALIAN PUNISHED.
An Italian with his short and curly jet
black hair, partially covered by a well worn
skull-cap, his piercing biack eyes concealed
by his swarthy eyelids, was asleep. He
was seated on an improvised bench, con
sisting of an old dry goods box, which was
located in the rear of an Italian fruit store
on West Third street. Near him
was a tin box, from which the smoke
was slowly issuinsr. An odor of burning
irttf
""' ■■ "' ' mmm
peanuts was
quite percepti
ble. His hand
hung down and
clasped the
crank of the
roasting ma
chine. It was
evident that he
was employed,
or thought to be
at least, in re
volving the cyl
inder roaster in
which w ere the
peanuts
I He slept. Tire
sun's rays came
pouring down
on him, but his slumber was rot in
the least disturbed. Flies came nigh unto
him. They settled about his swarthy face.
He minded them not, but slumbered on.
The aroma of the buring peanuts, which
became very strong, moved him not.
From the rear door of the fruit store a
corpulent matron was visible. She was
engaged within. The odor of the burning
nuts made its way into the room. She
noticed it at once. Out of the door she
wabbled. Not a word did she utter.
Straight for the sleeping man she made her
way. In reaching distance she grabbed
him and gave him such a shaking up that
for the nonce he entertained the belief that
an earthquake was in progress.
She talked to him in musical Italian while
she shook him to and fro. Exhausted at
last the matron released her grip, while he
tightened his grip on the crank of the
roasting machine and revolved it with great
rapidity. Still talking to him the corpu
lent woman made her way back to the
store. He saw nothing.
As she disappeared from sight he got up
and adjusted his coat and calico shirt
which had been somewhat demoralized
by the recent shaking up. He
pulled the strap, which served as a
belt around his waist, up tighter and sat
down. The fat woman reappeared. In
her hand she had a number of toy balloons.
Without a word he took the airy playthings
and started down the street. It was evi
dent he was being punished for his care
lessness.
?!rs. Pullman's Boyal Train. ■.-,.-.
New York Letter.
Standing in the yard of the Grand Central
depot yesterday was a train of private trav
eling cars used by an American woman who
affects a degree or formality and state
which .gives her widespread notoriety
wkowvar elm cnflo. IV.A woman is Mia.
Pullman, wife of the famous palace-car in
ventor. She arrived in New York yester
day from the West, and left for Saratoga
to-day. Her cars, four in number, aro
marvels of eletrance. anil ure filled >rith in
numerable ingenious appliances conducive
to comfort The first coach is
the one used by madam during the
daytime. It is a magnificent draw
ing-room filled with easy chairs and
lounges, hung with blue and gold damask
curtains, and artistically-carved hardwood
decorations. A rosewood piano, a mahog
any organ, guitars, violins and floral deco
rations attest the inclinations of the propri
etress. The dining-room car is carved and
paneled with equal elegance, and small
cabinets at one end are tilled with costly
china, which gleams brightly through the
cut-glass doors. A sleeping-car, which is
of course perfect in all its appointments,
conies next, and in the rear of this is the
stable-r<ir. Six blooded trotters and car
riage horses occupy the aristocratic stalls,
which an padded with a care which makes
tlifin ten times moie comfortable than the
humble bed which falls to the lot of the
average human beiiiir. A retinue of four
teen servants travel with Mrs. Pullman,
who is always accompanied by her young
and rather homely daughter.
POEMS IN COCKTAILS.
Drinks Which Make a Man Feel l«lke
a King.
Fancy Throat Ticklers and How They
Are Prepared.
Xo ordinary "rounder," but an interna
tional rounder who has drank muscatel in
.Mexico, vodka in St. Petersburg, curacoa
in Peru, beer in Baden, rum in Jamaica aud
"stone fences" in New York; who has be
gun a spree in Egypt and ended it in China,
and who has stopoed at countries instead
of counters to get a drink, says that
in the world, as far as has been discovered,
there are 1,000 mixed drinks. Of these any
expert bartender can make 100 offhand, for
not more than 100 different kinds of mixed
drinks are ever called for in the city. Of
the 100 drinks twelve are in popular and
perennial dematid.
The reason that mixed drinks are popular
is that ordinary whisky goos down a tip
pler's throat like burning coals and
scorches his vest and makes his toes tingle
and burns the soles of his shoes. Now, if
the aristocratic bartender takes this same
whisky aud mixes it up with four or five
cordials and puts in a dash of this and a
spray of that it makes an agreeable drmk
and glides down one's throat as smoothly as
a Morris & Essex canal Doat glides across
the Jersey meadows. Eveu old drinkers
drink rye with a wry face. Whisky is pal
atable to very few people except when the
alchemy of the bartender has transmuted
forty-rod Jersey lightning into a mixed
drink.
It is supposed that mixed drinks were in
vented by Jerry Thomas, whose monument
is Tom aud Jerry — a memorial more lasting
than the pyramids aud which the envious
tooth of time cannot destroy. Mr. Thomas
used to lie awake nights studying up new
drinks, and lie used to spring half a dozen
new drinks on his customers every day in
the year. He would experiment with his
new drinks on people who "hung the bar
up," so if they died there would be no loss
of business.
All his drinks were eminently success
ful, and the I'iS mixed drinks invented
by him are so many poems. He was a
successful man of letters, and is
the author of the "Bartenders'
Guide," which is concise and clear in style,
and shows a vast autout of erudition. It is
a familiar book in every saloon in the coun
try and is daily read with increasing delight
by every bartender.
Some of the most popular mixed driuks
are the St. John fizz, the Murphy milk
punch, the Neal Dow flip, the silver fizz,
the gold fizz, the morning glory fizz, the
Gen. Harrison egg-nog, the Madagascar
sangaree, the John Collius. the whisky
sour, the brandy smash, theuiiutjjuUsp, the
sherry flip, tue vermouth cocktail, the Man
hattan cocktail, the chaiupague cocktail,
the gin cocktail, the whisky flip, the milk
punch, the golden slipper, the blue blazer
and the stone fence.
Some of these mixed drinks are very elab
orate. For instance, the "punch ala Bru
no w." that is a favorite among the Russian
nobility, is composed of three bottles of
claret, "two-thirds of a pint of curacoa, one
pint of sherry, one pint of brandy, two
wine glasses of ratafia of raspberries, three
oranges and one lemon in slices, sprigs of
green balm and borage, two bottles of selt
zer water and three bottles of soda water.
When you get all these rare things in your
punch it is not yet made, for you have to
stir it and sweeten it and let it stand an
hour, and then strain it and ice it well.
A drink which is so common as the ver
mouth cocktail is made as follows: Three
fourths glass of shaved ice. four or five
dashes of gum. one or two dashes of angos
tura, two dashes of maraschino, one glass
of vermouth.
The formula for making the famous Chat
ham Square sour is as follows:
Fusil oil.
Chickweed bitters.
Dusb of corn whisky.
Squeeze a potato peel.
Sprinkle with Paris green.
Serve bot.
The "golden slipper" is so named be
cause the colored people like to wear it and
because when they have taken this drink
they feel as if they were climbing the golden
stairs." The Gen. Harrison egir-nog re
ceives its name from the fact that it con
taW cider. The morning glory tizz con
tains Scotch whisky and a dash of ab
sinthe. ~ ",'
The most successful new drink is the
Madagascar sangaree, invented by one ot
the most popular bartenders of New York, i
Mr. David Stern, who claims that he got
tt c receipt from a retired king of Mada
gascar. The drink is said to be nectar, tit
for the gods on Olympus.
A new mixed drink is said to be made as
follows: .
Sulphuric acid.
Fusil oil.
Dash of alcohol.
Spirits of turpentine.
cSprijj of parsley.
tV.I <?£■?. r Turnip peel.
„ , -c: j^,i Slice of new potato.
v • .'.rin-- Drink warm.
. ~ One- of the latest and most insidious
drinks, was recently introduced into swell
saloons in this city by an Englishman. It ;
consists of three parts sherry and one part ;
vermouth. It is called "Bamboo." proba
bly because after imbibing the drinker feels
like "raising Cain."
Tin: west.
O ho for the West, the boundless West,
Where pastures and creeds are broad;
Where the breeze is a tonic that thrills the
breast.
Blown straight from the hills of God!
The East is a land of dead men's bones,
Laid tier on moldering tier;
And the damp malarial wind that moans
Is the breath of those dead men near.
And its slow, pale people seem merely wraiths
That hare strayed away from the tomb,
Clutching their cold ancestral faiths
And wrapped in the garments of gloom.
And the mountains rise up and restrict the
sight,
As its creeds restrict the soul:
1 But away and over the frowning hight
Those billowy pasture? roll.
And there the people are flesh and blood,
Sinew, and muscle, and brain;
And the strong life-tide is a crimson flood .
Thrilling through nerve and vein.
They ride for miles o'er meadows of green.
They follow the trail of the kine,
And scarcely a tomb by the way Is seen, •
And the air they drink is like wine.
Brown of feature and bold of heart, — .;■ .
They ride in the face of the blast;
And nature is dearer to them than art,
And the present is more than the past.
They do not sit down by the tombs of the
, dead — . \
They live In the world of to-day: •
For the present is here, and the past has fled,
' And the future is on the way.
Then ho for the West land, fair and broad,
r The laud where thought is free-
Where people live close to nature's God I
O. that is the land for me!
—Ella Wheeler Wllcox in Lippincott's for
A. v unfit.
THE ST. PAUL DAILY GLOBE. SUNDAY MORNING, teEPTEMBEB 19, tBB6 —EIGHTEEN PAGES.
HUMAN FOIBLES AND FEAILTIES.
J. J. HILL. AS AN ABT CRITIC.
Every visitor to the Minnesota clnb rooms
has doubtless gazed, with feelings of admi
ration and reverence, upon the portrait of
Hon. Stanford Newell. This well-known
gentlemau has been prominent in the affairs
of the club from its very inception, and the
members, as a mark of their appreciation
and esteem, gave an order for his portrait
to Plagx, the artist. It has long since been
finished and occupies a prominent place on
the walls of this resort of the leaders ot
political and social life in St. Paul. Ihe
shining pate— indicative of dignity and not
old age— and striking side whiskers have
attracted more than an ordinary amount of
interest from strangers and visitors. The
picture had a narrow escape from
destruction at the recent fire,
but it was carried to a place of
safety by one of the members, and,
after the excitement hud subsided was re
stored to its place. The picture, before it
reached the club house, had quite an event
ful history. It seems that J. J. Hill, the
railroad magnate, had taken a deep inter
est in the plan to have the picture painted,
aud, when the question as to who was to
paint it was under consideration lie favored
some arti3t other than Flagg. But he was
overruled by the other members of the club
and the work was intrusted to Flagg.
This, of course, displeased Mr. Hill. There
was some delay about the delivery of the
picture, aud one day Mr. Hill, becoming
impatient, strolled down to Mr. Fla<rg"s
studio to see about it. Mr. Flagg was ab
sent, and there was no one else about. The
picture stood upon an easel in the center of
the room in an unfinished state,
aud Mr. Hill viewed it critically.
Mr. Hill, as every one under
stands, prides himself on being an art
critic He was displeased with the way in
which the work had been done. In fact,
he didn't like the expression of the
face, the shape of the whiskers or the con
tour of the head. Picking up a crayon
chalk from the table he deliberately marked
the outlines as he thought they should be,
making a good many black lines aud
curves. When he got through with
it it was utterly nnrecognizable,
but Mr. Hill had left it in
such shape that Mr. Flagg could not help
but understand his ideas about it.
Whether Mr. Flagg painted a new picture
.or removed the crayon streaks with some
preparation whose properties are familiar
only to the art, is not known. At any rate
the picture adorns the club room and tliece
are no disfiguring lines upon it. Mr. Hill
probably settled the matter in some, way,
but if any one wants to know the details,
he must ask Mr. Hill or Mr. Flagg about it
A NEWSPAPER MAN'S VACATION.
Habitues of the Windsor hotel . have
probably noticed a tall young gentleman,
with an intellectual head and a very bland
face, who has lolled about in a chair on the
sidewalk or held confidential conversations
with the compounder of seltzer lemonades
during the entire summer — taking occasion,
at frequent intervals, to wipe the. perspira
tion from his brow and hurl an imprecation
at the glorious climate of Minnesota. This
popular and entertaining gentleman is none
other than Mr. John Maguus. the able city
editor of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Ha
secured a leave of absence on July .15 and
started off to spend his vacation 1 in the
Northwest, intending to fish and hunt
and bathe and enjoy himself
until . the 31st of October. .He
expressed his unbounded delight ,at being
able to get away from the arduous duties
of newspaper work for even so briuf a . pe
riod, and intimated that he would not re
turn before Nov. 1, if Henry Moore, the
managing , editor, didn't send a posse after
him and take him back by force. It was so
seldom, lie said, that he got away from sultry
old St. Louis that he . was determined to
make the most of his vacation aud enjoy
himself to the full in the cool climate of
Minnesota. He had heard of the delight
fully cool nights and pleasaut days up here,
and he wore his winter underclothing and
brought along his overcoat and a pair of
blankets. He didn't want to. run any
chances, he said, of taking ,, t cold
or being caught in a .:.,, Minnesota
blizzard. His sole aim was
to get aws y from the torrid zone and loiter
in some place where he could keep cool,
St. Paul had been recommended to him as
the place where such bliss was to be found
and he concluded to make this his head
quarters and fro upon frequent excursions
to the numerous summer resorts, intending
always, of course, to take along with him
bis overcoat and blankets. His programme
embraced trips to Yellowstone park and
the Lake Superior region. He had plenty
of spare time on his hands and was not
particular as to where he slept on any cer
tain night. He could drop an occasional
line to Henry Moore, he said, informing him
of his whereabouts, so that he could be in
formed by wire if tiie office burned down.
He was determined to lay aside all business
cares . and devote himself .to
pleasure— aud stay away as " long as
he could. Magnus must have btought
the hot wave with him, for on the very
day of his arrival the mercury in the ther
mometer went up to 86 in the shade, and
for weeks, it hovered between that point
and 106. Maybe. Magnues wasn't hot
about it himself! He laid aside his winter
underclothing, had his overcoat and
blankets stowed away in the check room,
and wandered about in such scant attire
that the police came near arresting him.
His complexion became more florid day by
day. and lie was literally bathed, in
perspiration. He stood it manfuily, how
ever, waiting patiently for the cool wave
ration. He stood it manfully, how
waitiug patiently for the cool wave
daily predicted by the signal service, when
he would visit Superior and Yellowstone.
He could not think of venturing out while
the weather was so hot. There Would
be no pleasure "in it. He would
prefer to stay around the Windsor and ab
sorb seltzer lemonades. He always came
in late to his meals and had a waiter girl to
stand on each side and fan him while he
ate. The balance of his time he spent in a
favorite chair on the sidewalk, on the shady
side of the house, reading the weather re
ports and prognostications and concocting
plans for his trip when the cool
wave came along. But that
awfully hot wave liung on
through August and into September, and
Mannas sweltered, and swore and suffered
— but stuck to the hotel. He said the
meals were good, auyliow. and he didn't
like to take chances of doing worse some
where else. Finally, along in the early
part of September after Magnus had lost
twolve or tifteen pounds of iiesh
and had argued himself into the belief that
he could start ft* the Yellowstone in a few
days, politics began to get lively in St.
Louis and three or four men were killed at
the primaries. Masruus read ilu; accounts
in the St. Louis papers and became
very much excited. He said that, under
these extraordinary circumstances, he felt
that it was imperative for him to
be at his post of duty, and,
atter two or three starts— on one occa
sion purchasing his sleeping car; berth and
then concluding to stay over another day —
he trot away for St. Louis— three weeks be
fore his vacation expired. Aside from an
afternoon trip to White Bear lake and a
ride about St. Paul in a Herdic with Henry
Lucas, of St. Louis, who was here on a brief
visit — for a few hours, it was not known
that Magnus stirred four blocks from the
Windsor hotel during his *stay. : People
who have been accustomed to making the
rounds of the summer resorts and wasting
their energies and impairing their health,
may take a profitable lesson from this ac
count of the eminently conservative and
beneficial way in which a newspaper man
spends his vacation. . . - : ,
MAKING TUE MOST OF LIFE.
R\ vacation. of St. Louis, passed
NO TUB MOST OF LIFE.
Laughlin, of St. Louis, passed
through St. Paul a few days ago, returning
to his home after spending the summer in
the wildest and most picturesque portion of
the Lake Superior country, and 'in a most
unique and satisfactory manner, too."
His fancy led him to select Pike Lake, a
pretty body of water in the pineries of Wis
consin, some three miles away from the
Northern Pacific railroad running- from
Ashland to Superior. The country is un
inhabited, and the judge's little; log cabin, :
on an island in the lake, is the only evidence
of; civilization to be seen. " There is a new
hotel, just erected, at the railroad, but other
wise there is nothing but ; a vast forest
of pine trees for miles :in every direction.
Solitude reiarns siininme. anrl the lover of
nature, pure and simple, can revel In
dreamy bliss to his heart's content. Frank
J. Bowman, the noted St. Louis ciiminal
lawyer, formerly came here to spend his
summers, but he did not show
up this year. Judge Laughlin's
wife— a pleasant-faced, matronly lady —
always accompanies him, aud she takes as
much delight in tue sports as the judge
himself. She is fond of hunting deer at
nidit, and takes long tramps over the hills
and rides In a canoe to get a shot at the
game. She is also an expert angler and
enjoys a day with the rod and reel.
The judgo has built a convenient little
one-story log house, in the shape of a
cross, with one room in each side wing,
and a long hall running between and ex
tauding out in front and rear, on the ends
of which are bay windows. The windows
can be raised, and a cool breeze blows con
stantly through the hall. A colored man
acts as cook and valet, and the
Jjauehlin "summer cottage" Is one
of the most delightful spots on earth for
quiet enjoyment and real pleasure. The
judge dispenses hospitality with a royal
hand, and his friends from the South visit
him at frequent intervals during the season.
There are few people who extract more
solid comfort from life than Judge and
Mrs. Laughliu,
THE LAST NIGHT CAR.
There are tines in almost every man's
life when he is out so late that he has to
wait for the last night car or walk home.
•This condition
.of affairs hap
pens every
morning to
'newspaper
'men, and the
tollers who
sleep when
other people
are awake.
Once in awhile
la couple of Jov
jers, tarrying
itoo long at a
Sparty, or lost
:in the fascina
tion of each
other's pres
ence, forget
the flying
hours until
aroused from the dream, of bliss
by the approach of the last car. The
people's vehicle is ever redolent of tobacco
and whisky. It Is a godsend to the fellow
in the saloon wit/i shaky legs, who is yanked
on by the conductor, and lies down to
snooze to the discomfort of everybody but
himself. The tired, little messenger yawns
and nods, while the fat printer next to him
snores the same as he does every night the
year round. A reporter is the only indi
vidual who is wide awake, and he takes ob
servations of tha motley gang in the owl
cart. Of course, the sleepers must put
their big feet on the seat and open their
mouths to let their whisky breaths fuin
igite the premises. The peace of the
surroundings is only „ disturbed by the
sweet voice; of the conductor as he
grabs the fat man by the collar and
yells in his ear: "Say, this is your street.
If you want to got off." If the man is an
old-timer, he rubs his half-closed eyes, and
jumps, but a green-horn says. "Yes," and
takes another turn with old Morpheus. He
finally has to walk back several squares for
his extra slice of slumber, and swears all
the way. Surely, traveling on the all-night
car is not conducive to angelic tempers.
The most interesting sight, and one which
will drive the soporific feeling from every
one but a fellow too full to be entertained,
is a pair of lingerers at a ball or dance-hall.
They seem to think that the night-car is
the last chance for "spooning" before the
girl is set down at the paternal threshold.
Matilda and John are very amusing
in their dove-like way. She lays
her head - on his shoulder con
fidingly, and \ actually loses consciousness.
He pays no attention to the winks of his
fellow- passengers as they nudge each other
significantly. But there isu't one of them
but would change places with him, espe
cially w*hen the feminine responsibility rest
ing upon him is pretty. The only cold
blooded, indifferent person to such a scene
is the conductor, . He rudely awakens Ma
tilda by calling to John, "This ' is Seventh
street," and, as the couple slowly depart,
the gang, deprived of something to drive
away sleep, stretch out for a nap, but some
fellow lights a bad cigar, and another who
has made a protracted call at his favorite
saloon, sticks bis head hastily out of the
window— and, well — he feels better, and is
sober afterwards. Human nature, as ex
hibited in the last car, is not "a thing of
beauty and a joy forever."
'■•: : A Look Ahead. ,
Omaha Wortd.
New Cashier— l should like to have an
agreement r 'With you to the effect that I
shall have a week's notice in case I don't
suit.
Bank President — That is easily fixed if
you will agree to give us a week's notice
before leaving.
New Cashier— (thoughtfully)— let
it go. ./ ; ;
Business Trail*.
Life.
A." se Ih'sh fellow— fish vender,
A man of mettle— The stove dealer.
Is clever at taking.^people in— The stage
driver. - ■...-_ i
Worse than a gross man — A grocer.
A hard laboring man with a brief career
—The lawyer.
Always in a — The grave digger.
His life a perpetual grind— The miller.
A well-bred man— The baker. ,
GVOIiFTION OF THE Bi.J\i> PIG.
Deseiples of Darwin, all forehead and gall.
Proclaim abroad the revolution
They claim is the natural result of all,
By the science or evolution.
3* <Xl -<s % l^x\
These mijrhty men of giant brain,
And loroheaU-broatl anU.bi.r,
Cite the instance here made plain —
The Minneapolis blind pig.
The change is slight; the watchful cyo
-Alone would marls its course.
The pi? takes on a different snout.
His sides are flattened, ends round out,
And legs drawn up perforce.
V •— JI 1
The marks that streak his festive side
Assume a ctaoa*n iorm.
The eye and ear uuw disappear.
The tail and snout is blotted out;
The mystery is clear.
■r V*.*
Tho curtain is rent and ;he secret revealed,
The great metamnrpore is clear.
When citizens prominent speak of blind piR6,
No questions you luk
But pull out your flask.
No oatrol Una enforcement you fear.
LIFE ON THE LIMITED.
A Night Bide From St. Paul to Chicago
Which was Diversified by Un
expected Events.
The Chain Dof Circumstances Ensuing
From an Attempt to Smoke
a Cigar.
An Endeavor to be Sociable, With a
Corpse in the Baggage
Car.
Followed by a Forty-Miles-an-Hour
Trip on the Cow
catcher.
The Lawyer and Reporter.
"All aboard."
The "limited" is just moving out for the
night run to Chicago. Darkness has begun
to eather, and there is a breath of frost in
the" air, a presage of the not-far-distant
winter. The sleeping cars are crowded,
and the steam heating pipes, after a sum
mer of idleness, groan their discontent as
the hot vapor is forced through them. The
artificial warmth brings out a dimsal
auiell of new paint and rusty iron which is
anything but acceptable to at least two of
the passengers, one a Globe attache and
the other a young Minneapolis lawyer who
is going to the Garden City
"to see Pinkerton, the detective,
y' know," about a case which,
when won will redound to the everlastiug
fame of the ambitious student of the stat
utes. Notwithstanding the mystery and
presumable importance of his mission, and
the fact that he has inisguidedly chosen to
live in the Flour City in preference to St
Paul, the attorney promises to be an agree
able traveling companion, and the offer of
a cigar immediately reduces him to a state
of friendliness. The smoking seats in the
rear are found in possession of what is
probably a bridal couple, who are traveling
regardless of expense. The groom has evi
dently desired a final whiff before retiring
behind the sacred screen of
THE UPPER BERTH
which is soon to separate two fond hearts
for the night from the prying intrusion and
ribald comments of all the outer world,
save the sable and discreet porter, who has
a habit of peeping under the curtain at in
tervals to see if "dey is cumfble." So a
weed in the Pullman is out of the question,
and a march forward in search of solace is
begun. There is but a single passenger
coach, half the occupants of which are
women, some colored and all sleepy, but
active and vigorous enough to protest if
the scent of tobacco gets anywhere near
their nostrils. There is evidently no re
source but the windy and soot-begrimed
platform.
"Tickets."
Just then enters a round-faced, smiling,
agreeable-looking man of medium height
who wears a uniform and carries a lantern
artistically displayed on his left arm. In
his right hand he flourishes a shining instru
ment which might be a revolver, but is only
a punch. As he approaches the young law
yer says: "We're all right now; I know
him. He's George Miles, of my town, a
rattling good fellow, and he'll let us go in
the baggage car." Conductor Miles indeed
proves an "K. G. F." aud readily grants
the permission asked for. The travelers
enter, aud are met with a look half frown,
half inquiry by
A GRIMY GIANT
who is tossing trunks about with Sullivan
esque ease, and whose hands are big enough,
to. throttle ~ an earthquake. One of the
twain, whose identity shall not be made
known, save on compulsion and under oath
in a court of justice, produces from his
traveling bag a.mysteiious looking flask,
and without a word extends it toward the
presiding genius. There is a double smile,
one facial and one liquid, and the entente
cordial has been established. The car
boasts but a single chair, t and that is re
served for the use of Mr: Miles on those
frequent occasions when he figures up how
much he will give the bloated corporation
for which he condescends to work. But
the baggageman, not to be outdone in po
liteness by his temporary guests, points to
a long pine box and says: ''Sit thar, ef ye
like." The smokers "sit thar" and light
their cigars. They then ascertain that their
temporary resting* place is the coffin of Mr.
Lowry, of Canada, who departed this life
of consumption. While he still breathed
his given name was James.
THE DISCOVEItY
causes a slight shock, and the Minneapolis
uiaujremarks irreverently (by the way why is
it that all Minneapolitans are devoid of v
erence?): "Our late lamented friend Jim
doesn't smell very good. Let's have a
drink." The j invitation is accepted and
Mr. Lowry ceases from troubling. The
conductor comes in after his rounds and
makes up his record. He refuses to join in
the mild revelry of the moment with the
remark, "I've got a train to look after and
1 never touch a thing while on duty, and
rarely at any other time. A cigar? Well, I
don't mind," The exhiliration of the cool
clear air, the twinkling brilliance of the
stars seen through the open door, the clatter
and clang of the wheels in their eudless
turning and uproar, all the surroundings of
life and bustle and activity, while the
stranger dead sleeps in dreamless and ever
lasting peace at our feet brings on a space
of silence and reverie which is employed in
watching the blue smoke wreaths wing
their upward flight, and which is succeeded
by a reactionary spirit of aa venture.
"I say, Miles." it was the cheeky
Minneapolis man who did this of course,
"I say. Miles, can't we go out and ride on
the engine?" ..■%:•;•. ■:•: •.
•1 don't know about that," he ; replied,
; 'Johnson, -the engineer, is a good fellow,
but he's almighty particular about that iron
pet of his. When we stop I'll go forward
and introduce you, and then you can ask
him yourself." .; ;;: - : .-- :.. ;. i; .i^;l
IBM DOAVX BRAKES. ■. : , V.
The whistle, the moan and the shriek of
escaping mid compressed: steam from !
the Westiughou.se, the - protest and I
creaking of the slowing wheels j
tell of an approaching- pause at a water
tank. We go forward with the brass-but
toned deity; of the "limited" and are intro
duced to a* self-poised, thoughtful-looking
man in a blouse, who is busy with an oil i
can about the machinery of his impatient j
and panting iron horse. A word of ex
planation from the conductor and we are
left to plead our case. "Kide in the cab?
Well 1 don't know. I'll think about it and i
tell you at the next station." And the j
oiling went on. Should we go back to the ;
continent conductor and have him say
"I told you s<v' in response to our tale of
defeat? Hardly, and with a silent but
mutual resolve to ride on the engine we i
steal up under the headlight and plant our- i
selves on the eow-catclij|r. "^ Each braces j
himself for the perilous trip, and each tics :
an arm to one of the ban*,) with I his hand
kerchief. Now we are* off, and the whole j
world seems to spin backward under, our j
flying feet. The speed increases and the
great monster seems to make : ■ ■■,
VAST LEAPS :• .; ,-^.
from rail to rail. We round a sharp curve |
and the sensation is that of beinir thrown j
violently into illimitable space. We skirt
the river's brink, and on one side a cliff
frowns upward, while below the dancing
waters shimmer in the moon's glad rays.
We dive into a deep cut, and the moaning
of the mighty power by which, we are pro
pelled seems doubled. We plunge through
a gloomy forest and the sleeping trees nod
a welcome, and the prowlers of the night
rush deeper into their familiar haunts, awed
and frightened by ' the Cyclopean
visitation. Past green fields and farm
houses we fly with the speed of the wind
and the roar of a cyclone, while ever before
us calm and steady gleams the path of light
from the reflector, and behind it sits in all
the well- won dignity of power . and respon
sibility the man at the lever, his eye on the
line and his hand on the throttle. ' A yell
as of a million fiends rises on the air, the
bell clangs, electric towers loom up in the
distance. We are approaching a town, we
are going to stop, and, as the wicked Minne
apolis man howls in my ear. we are "d— • —
glad of it!" We get off, stretch our cramped
legs, climb aboard, take a parting nightcap
and co to sleep, to awake hundreds of miles
away in the city of Chicago. '■'.■ ■,•'.■','■ I
AT
THIS .^BfßP'.'' Mil)! THIS
I?ST.BET.JACKSOH&SIBI£Y.
French. Seal Plush, quilted satin lining, seal orna
ments, chamois pockets, price $19.
Matelasse Newmarkets, very cheap, $9.50.
Elegant Brocaded Velvet Wraps, satin lined, only
$8.50.
French Seal Plush Wraps, satin lined, trimmed with
three-inch French Linx, price $18.50.
We place, to-morrow, Monday, 500 Children's and Misses'
Cloaks and Newmarkets at prices never offered in this city
before.
• Misses' Cloaks and Newmarkets, 4 years, C 6 years, 8 years'
10 years, 12 years, 14 years and 16 years, in plain Beaver
Cloth, Berlin Twill, Diagonal, Boucle, G-lusse Plush and Frize.
Opbldl Miplffi II iIIGOD billllll)!
FRENCH DRESS GOODS ! ENGLISH DRESS GOODS !
\ AND AMERICAN GOODS!
Eig Drive, 65 pieces Camel Hair Cloth. 50-inch wide, usually sol<?
at 90c, we offer at
500.
Ladies' Cloth and Tricots in all the new shades.
Ladies Scarlet Underwear, direct from the mills, on which we can
save our customers the jobbers' profit.
ISP" WE ARE HOT EXACTLY IN THE CROCKERY BUSINESS "IK
Yet, but having obtained a large lot of Fancy Glassware very
cheap, which we have decided to present to every lady who visits
our establishment to-morrow, Monday. The articles are follows:
Fine French G-lass Tumblers, in red, blue, gold and green, Fancy
Wine Glasses, Fancy Molasses Cans, Mustard Pots, Berry Dishes,
Sauce Plates, Cake Baskets, Fruit Dishes, Water Pitchers, Butter
Dishes, Fancy Lamps, Salt Shakers, Fancy Hats and Slippers for
toothpicks. We have placed these Glasswares on the second floor,
which makes a beautiful display. Every lady who honors us by a
visit is welcome to one of these elegant articles.
169 East Seventh Street, Between Jackson and Sibley.
Open until 9 o'clock every night.
"We have just opened an unusually choice
line of new and artistic Carpets and Draperies
suitable for the many elegant new houses in
St. Paul and vicinity. We call attention to
the superiority of the fabrics we are opening
this season, believing that St. Paul people will
appreciate a better class of goods than they
have been generally able to obtain. Attention
is also called to the exquisite beauty of color
and design, as harmoniously blended and
wrought out by the artist and workman.
5
417 Wabasha Street, - St. Paul.
JEFFERSON & KASSON,
DEALERS.
City .office— 363 Jackson Street, j
Corner Fifth.
YARDS: Corner Eagle and .Franklin Btreats
NOTICE,
ST. PAUL REAL ESTATE TITLE IKS. CO.
The committee appointed to perfect the or
ganization of the above company, is now pre
pared to receive stock subscriptions, at the ]
Nutioual German-American Bunk.
F. WILL I US,
DANIEL It. NOYBS,
E. W. PEET,
257-63 Committee.
RALPH W. CAVEN'ACGH. CHARLES A. UAKKKK
RALPH W. CAYENAUGH & CO., .
REAL ESTATE AND LOANS.
Government Scrip Bought and Sold.
331 Robert, corner Fourth street,
ST. PAUL, MINN. . ;
Robt. L. Perry, M'jrrCoul ami Wood Dep'mt
LargestStoctolArtiaciaiEyesinthTTSesi
DR. JOS. LICK— -OCULIST !
Treats successfully all kinds of > Sore Eyes
particularly granulation of the eyelids.
East ; Seventh. St., Corner Cedar
■ The most Elegant Blood Purifier, Lifer Invigora- |
! tor, Tonic ana Appe'.izer ever known. The first
| Bitters containing! Ron ever advertised in America.
Unprincipled persons are imitating the name; loos
out for frauds. See that \. /Ol- /f)\t . ~
the following signature .•■ /nfjE&Jaff #/
is on every Dottle and /JrlT////
take none other: ' '- ■ ' 1 /tW»' * KAMiy^y^ ■
ST. Jf AI X, MINK. {^/ Druggist & Chemist.
j Assessment for Opening and Extension
of St. Altas Street
: Office of the Board of public Works, I
City of St. Paul, Minn., Sept. 1(5, 1886. S
The Board of Public Works in and for the
I corporation of the City of St. Paul, Minne
sota, will meet at tbeir office in said city at %
i p. vi.. on the 4th day of October, A. D. 1886,
| to make an assessment of benefits, damages,
j costs and expenses arising from the opeulmj
! and extension of St. Albans street, from
! Goodrich Avenue to Fairmount Place, pro
j ducod westerly in said city, on the property
• on the line of said St. Albang street, from
I Summit Avenue to Pairmount Place produced
| westerly and deemed benefited or damaged
• thereby.
The land necessary to be condemned and
taken for said opening- and extension is da
scribed as follows, to-wit:
All that land lying: within the lines of St.
j Albans street, la Summit Park Addition, pro«
j duced southerly to Fairmount Place, in re
arrangement of Highland Park Addition, pro
duced westerly in tho City of St. Paul, Min
nesota.
All persons interested are hereby notified to
be present at said time and place of makiny
said assessment and will be heard.
All assessment notices heretofore given
have been annulled.
WILLIAM BARRETT, President.
Official:
R. L. Gorman, Clerk Board of Public Works.
2(50-62
FAIRBANKS, MORSE Sl CO.,
371 and 373 Sibley Street,
FAIRBANKS SCALES
AND
ECUPSE_W[N D M I LLS,
DR. J. G. WALKER,
Eye and Ear Surgeon,
104 East Third street, St. Paul, Minn.
: PatentLaw-Jas. F. Williamson,
Room 15, Collom Block, Minneapolis. Solid j
tor of patents, counsellor ia patent oasea
Two Tears an Eiammerin U. S» P»"
tent Office.