Port Royal standard and commercial. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1874-1876, April 06, 1876, Image 1
Stj
VOL. IV. NO. 18.
" The Boys."
Are we 44 the boys " that used to make
. The tables ring with noisy follies ?
*r?L J i .J 1 nft nrnnM shake
ryliutw uwtjp-iuu^ u jnujurei
The ceiling with its tbunder volleys ?
Are we the youths with lips unehorD,
At beauty's feet unw ink'ed suitors.
\ Whose memories reach tradition's morn?
The days of prehistoric tutors V
^ " The boys " we knew?but who are theee
Whose heads might serve for Plutarch's
sages,
* Or Fox's martyrs, if you pie as o,
Or hermits of the dismal ages V
"The boys " we knew?can these be those ?
Their cheeks with morning's blush were
fainted;
Where are the EJarrys, Jims and Joes
With whom we onoe were well acquainted ?
If we are they, we're not the same;
If they are we, why then they're masking;
Do tell U9, neighbor What's-your-Dame,
Who are you i What's the use of asking ?
You once wero George, or Bill, or Ben ;
There's yon, yourself?there's you, that
other;
I know you now?I knew you then?
You used to be y:ur younger brother!
? Olicer Wendell Holmes.
THE TWIN POBTBAITS.
A rising artist I So Gilbert Lawson
was called, but only by a small circle of
bis especial friends. Otherwise he was
4 ~ * A T) 114- b n TOO a
entirely uinmowu iu jamu. uU?
hoj)efal. Once be saw an eagle leave its
nest, and soar up high towards the snn,
while its un feathered young fluttered,
# but remained behind unable to follow.
He felt that it was much the same with
himself?that struggles would strengthen
his pinions, and he would in time be
able to ascend the great ladder of fame.
And so he toiled unceasingly.
For some months he had been engaged
upon a portrait. He had found his
model in a young girl, perhaps twelve
years of age. He had first seen her in
the streets, and she was a beggar, or the
next thing to it?she was a street singer.
When her voice first fell upon his ears
it thrilled him, for it was wildly beautiful.
He knew that voice trembled. He
saw her hand as it was extended to reoeive
the pitiful coin dropped into it,
and he observed that this trembled
also, and that it was very tiny and delicate.
Then he looked upon her face.
Her eyes were of heavenly blue, but
wore a sad expression and were downcast.
Her golden hair fell in tangled
masses over lier shoulders?indeed, she
was beautiful, although no one but the
V youog and enthusiastic painter had as
yet especially noticed that beauty.
When he explained to her his wish, her
face became radiant with pleasure,
which lent it an additional charm.
The pictuie was completed and the
artist sat gazing on it. He could scarce'
}y decide in his own mind which he
loved the best?the original or the semblance.
Bat, dropping a curtain before
the work, he arose, and walked to the
window, gazing into the street. A sigh
escaped him, and so absorbed were his
thoughts that he did not observe the entrance
of a second party until a hand
was placed on his shoulder, and a voioe
said : 44 Gilbert, 1 have called to see
you.- work, as I promised you."
The arti>t blushed and even trembled,
and as he lifted the covering, remarked :
44 Mr. Byrd, my fate depends upon a
few words which you will speak now. I
have thrown my whole soul into this
picture, and I am everything or nothing.
You are an old painter?speak
candidly?tell me just what you think."
It was some moments before the young
man raised his eyes, aud then only when
attracted by the long continued silenoe
of his friend. When he did so he saw
that Mr. Byrd was pale as death, had
sunk into a chair and that he trembled
violently. He sprung to his side with a
cup of water, and when the old man had
partially iccovered, he asked : 44 What,
in the name of Heaven, is the matter
with you, my friend if"
44 Where is your model ??who is your
model ?" gaspo:! Byrd.
Ail was explained, an.l then the old
man continued :
44 Take your pjiating; come with me j
to my house.
Gilbert followed his old friend, and
he entered a superb mansion in due
time, and was then taken direct to the |
studio. His own picture was placed beside
another, and it was the young man's
turn to start in surprise, for here was
two portraits exactly alike with the exception
of the dress.
Mr. Byrd now said: 44Be seated,
I will tell you Gilbert, and a secret
which lias never been breathed to mortal
man before. Twenty years ago I painted
the likeness of my only daughter, and
the picture that you see before you.
She was then ten years of age ; she is
now thirty, and still with me."
4iMay not thi3 bj her chi'd?this
model of mine?" ?
44 Listen. At the age of nineteen my
daughter did as many a good girl has
done before her?3he married, without
my knowledge, one who was to me an
entire stranger, and nearly so to her.
9 That husband proved to be a villain, for,
in two years afur, he forsook her. More
than this?he took with him a daughter
by the name of Grade. The blow nearly
llio mntiicr ftrwl PVPT1 tim<* h&3
AiliCU Uiv iUVVUVA v f
never healed the "wound. I have made
every effort to trace out the man, and
recover our darliLg, but in vain. I
rlined such information, however, that
was satisfied he had died miserable in
a distant town, and we have given littie
Gracie up as lost forever. Now yen can
account for my agitation when I first
saw your painting, can you not ?"
"I can divine your thoughts."
" What is the name of your model ?"
" I only know her as Katie, the street
singer."
" You know where she can be found ?"
"Yes."
" Let us go for her at onoe."
In two hours after, the little beggar
entered ihe splendid saloon of the Byrd
mansion. She was bewildered,for she had
never gazed upon so much elegance before,
except as she had seen it from the
streets through the closely curtained
windows. Her confidence was soon re
h stored, however, by the kind treatmenl
he received, and then she wm conduct
d to the study,
^NDA]
As her eyes fell upon the pictures,
ehe stood motionless for a time, and
11 ~""J " WViw rrr\n liarA nAintfld n
I Lit* II BMilt. 11 lij , jww uuiv f u
two pictures of me, instead of one, Mr.
Gilbert."
" Yes?would you not like a copy ?" .
"Ob, so much!" she answered, her
eyes becoming brilliant in anticipation* p
" You shall have one of them. Which *
do you prefer ?"
" This, I feel as if I could love it 1"? u
and the young creature knelt before the y.
mother, while tears filled her eyes. ?
This was too much for the grand- "
father. He sunk into a seat, and cov- J1
ered his face with his fingers. J1
" What is your name ?" asked Gilbert.
a
"Katie Courtney. I thought you .
knew that before." j'
"Courtney was his name," groaned 1(
the old man.
"Do you remember your parents?"
again asked Gilbert.
" Only my father. He was not .very tJ
kind to me, and died in Plymouth sev- J
eral years ago."
" And you have been singing for your
bread ever since ?" a
"I have."
"Well, if you are to have the picture, ?
I want you to sing me a song now. You
will do so, will you not ?" ?
"Oh, yes, willingly." 11
She began one of ber wild strains, and .
j the dwelling was filled with melody. 11
Thishad not long continued before 11
the door of the study was opened, and a j;'
lady entered the room. She was pale, *
and staggered as if suffering from great 0
weakness. She clutched the back of a ?
chair for support ^md then asked, in a 1
fair.t voice: " Who is this singer ?" v
To have answered in words would v
Iiotta Koon hnwever. for her eves ?
had fallen upon the face of the child v
and, wi^ a dull shriek, tho mother fell a
fainting upon the floor. P
In au instant, Katie, or Gracie, as was tJ
her real name, was by her side. As she 61
| gazed upon the marble face, sho ex- c
claimed : " Oh, this is the other pio- c
tare!" ?
" Can you imagine who it is ?" 1
44 Not my mother! Oh, tell me, is it
my mother?" ?
41 It is." fc
Joy never kills. The orphan child at r
this moment gave vent to her feelings in a
sobs, caresses, and words of endearment;
and it was not long before the mother ?
was fully oonscious of her great liappi- J
ness. f
Those twin portraits had been tho 11
means of uluting those loved ones, who ?
had been so long and cruelly separated. 1
The Law's Delay. I
A correspondent tells us a story of the ^
law's delay as follows: We have been e
for two years knocking at the door of j
the supreme court of the State of New
York, prayiog for judgment on a claim j(
so obviously valid that we are utterly at Q
a loss to conceive any tenable ground n
upon which it can be defended. The a
debtor is anxious for delay, and the ex- D
cuses by which he staves off a trial have
l>een a great deal more numerous and ^
far le33 cogent than many of those which ^
are cited above. The other day we re- v
/^ ivpd notice from our counsel that the *
trial was positively to be "reached." u
We smiled incredulously, but nevertheless
performed our customary journey _
to the courtroom, with a cartload of ?
books and a cload of witnesses. To our c
great surprise the case was actually n
44 called," a stage of progress far ahead ^
of auy that it had previously attained, Q
and for a moment we were cajoled into ^
the belief that the end was approaching, e
of one of the chief miseries of onr ex- Q
istence. Vain delusion! The defend- u
ant's lawyer had a case to try in another a
| court, and ours 44 went over," the judge c
and couusel on both sides acquiescing n
with as much readiness as if they con- ^
si lered it a mttter of course. Not the (
slightest consideration was given to the n
circumstance that a dozen witnesses or n
more were waiting, as they had waited n
many a time before. Our own advocate t
smiled blandly whde tho adverse party y
mentioned that he was otherwise engag- ^
ed, said never a word, but took up his
hat and papers and left tho room, very a
I much with tho air of a man who felt that
ho had been practicing the recognized r
44 courtesy " which the gentlemen of the
b.ir are so fond of displaying towards ^
each other, when they have clients who
are able to foot the Dills. ^
However, we were told to keep com r
ing until these little hindrances were got t
out of tho way, aud we did. Sure
enough, after several days of expectancy,
it happened that there was no other case E
ready, and onrs really did bogin. The
jury was impaneled, and our attorney
rose to commence his opening. He had |
not got a sentenoe before his alert opponent
interposed some objection. Then ^
| ensued a sort of conference between the
II wo lawyers and tho jndge, and it turned ?
i cut, as near as we could get at it, that a
our counsel hadn't put in the right sort
of complaint?that it was not in such f
j form as would admit of his getting nis j
I evidence in, and that everything must r
j be done over again. And so here wc
i ore, with nothing to show for our two j
I years of anxiety but keen realization of
the eccentricity of law and the shadow j
j of on impending bill of costs of suffi- j
! cient magnitude to convince us that our
system of judicature is the dearest of all
I human institutions.
]
Danger from the Cat, j
I I
Stories of danger to infants from cats ;
! attempting to suck their breath have !
been frequently narrated, but similar |
attempts of the animal in regard to
grown persons are not so common. An
instance occurred in this city, says the
Utica (N. Y.) Observer, which would at
least warn people to keep cats out of i
their sleeping apartments. A young
j gentleman was awakened by a slight
j pain to find the huge tomcat of the fam-.
I ily with his paws about his neck and en !
[ doavoring to get his mouth open. The !
cat was working on his chin, and had
partly succeeded in opening his month
1 when the movement awakened him. He
I tried to push the cat off, but could not J
get it away until he seized it violently ;
> about the neck, choking the animal un- j
1 til it released its hold and then throwing j
; it off. The cat has been excluded from
tj the sleeping apartments of that family .
j since the young gentleman's un comfort- j
j able experience. I
FOTV
Dv l ) A
BEAUFORT. S.
A THIEF BY TRADE.
eslgned for a Priest bat (Graduated as a
Confirmed Felon.
Of the many oily-tongued rascals and
lieves who have been run to cover in
lis city, says the Kansas City Time*,
hilip \Vatt, who was arrested for com?
T nnnnnnrnvtVi rnKViorp iq
llCnj+ll IliO XJCavcunuivu &vvw*j,
id king. He is a man abont thirty
ears of age, weighs one hundred and
ixty pounds, and stands six feet and an
loll in his stocking feet. He has a good
ead, crowned by a growth of sandy
air, and from beneath his dark eyerows
look out as foxy a pair of gray eyes
s ever a person looked upon.
A reporter paid a visit to the county
lil, and ensconced in cell No*. 3 on the
jft hand tier this man was found.
" Do you want to be interviewed ?"
" Well, I don't mind, but I tell you,
5 begin with, that I won't tell you anyhing
that will in the least possible manor
criminate me. What do you want to
now?"
"I would like a history of your life,"
nswered the scribe.
" Well, get out your note book and I
rill commence."
The man then, with as few words as
possible, gave the following account of
is life:
" I was born in San Antonio, Texas,
i 1845, and lived there until I was
early four years old. My father then
emoved to Port Laramie, and I lived in
hat place until he had served his time
ut in the regular army. At ten years
f age my father "and mother moved to
jeavenworth, where my younger days
rere passed. It bad been ray father's
rish that I should become a Catholic
riest, and my early education all tended
award that tiring. In Leavenworth I
ttended St. Mary's College, and was
nder special charge of the bishop of
hat place. At fifteen years of age I yas
ent to the Jesuit college in St. Louis to
omplete my education. While there I
ame to the conclusion that I was not cut
ut for a priest, and jumped the instituion.
" On coming back to Leavenworth, I
lade the acquaintance of a number of
ad characters, and when once on the
oad down hill a person goes fast, and in
short time I was the leader of the gang,
have been arrested scores of times,
nd have seen the inside of nearly every
ail in the West. The first time I was
ent to the penitentiary was for obtaini)g
$400 from the American Express
ompany. I was caught, but handed
he * swag ' to a ' pal,' and while sejying
ay time in the jail had the use of the
aoney. I was sixteen months in jail at
ndependenoe, and was at last sentenced
or three years. After serving eighteen
lonths I was pardoned out, through the
xertions of my counsel, the Hon. Henry
\ White. I was good for a time after
ay release, but the detectives would not
3t me alone, and kept hounding me from
ne place to another. At last I made up
ay mind to go back to the old business,
nd at Omaha I' confidenced' a jeweler
amed Hubberman out of $700 worth of
awelry. I was arrested o&suspicion the
arne night, but, as usual, got away with
ho 'swag.' Was sent up for three
ears, but, as in the case in Missouri,
ras pardoned out after having served
alf my sentenoe,
" Money and political influence had a
ood deal to do with my getting out. On
he books it was registered as ' executive
leniency,' but I tell you money will do
lost anything. With it I will make the
lissouri river run up stream, or get out
f any prison in America. I think tlrs
j the worst apology for a jail that 1
ver was in, and I have been in most all!
f them. I have often thought of being
better man, but have never been given
chance. The detectives do more to en-)
ourage crime than to suppress it. If a
isn was a thousand miles away, in any
* * J ~ nl^An 1 r\
onest business, aau uau ui mv-w OUUU1U |
ee him they would givo him away in a
rinute. I have never had any inducelents
held out to me to be a better
inn. The world is all against me, and
might as well be crooked as straight.
Then I die it will be some satisfaction
a some, that I leave the world a squeezed
smon. Public opinion is against me,
ud it is a law higher and mightier than
Dy jury I have ever been brought beore."
" You are suspected of having had a
tand in the Wyandotte bank robbery."
"Yes, I know it. A couple of greentorns
were down here this morning and
leasured my feet and size. I was sure
hey were Kansas ' grays.'"
"You can tell a Kansas official, then ?"
" Oh, yes. Most all of them are of
ay stripe, and will steal whenever they
;et a chance. Tom Spters, now, is a
;eutleman, and always treated me like a
inman b3ing."
" You are sure yon were not in Wyanlotte
on the night of the robbery ?"
The man looked at the reporter about
Ifteen seconds, and then said, without
kppearing to have heard the question :
"I wonder how much they would
jive me to get back that $1,500. I guess
t would go a long way toward getting
ne out of this scrape."
"Do you think you will get out of
;his?"
" Yes, I do. I am innocent, and, like
Vlicawber, am waiting for something to
iurn up to my advantage."
" Do you think if you got out of this
scrape you can do better ("
" No, I cannot, and shan't try. When
t get out I shall go back to the old business,
and keep at it until I am gray."
An Unfortunate Masquerade.
A ludicrous incident at a recent ball
in Denver, Col., is thus described by
the News: Among the masks worn by
the burlesque MaeDnerchor during their
stage performance was a donkey's head
of enormous size, worn by a St. Louis
gentleman who had just reached town,
and was almost an entire straDger here.
The mask was unfortunately eo constiucted
that the wearer couldn't have
seen his sweetheart if she had stood
right before him, ard consequently he
trusted to his comrades to lead him on
and off the stage, and also to remove his
mask, which was strapped and buckled
like a pack saddle. They led him on the
stage all rig! ', but forgot to lead him
off! And there he stood, like a veri11
le donkey, for half aa hour, entirely
h lpless, fearing to move and unable to
speak,
r bo'
lnd <
C., THURSDAY. J.
A Glimpse of the Cuban Rebellion, 1
i
The Machias (Me.) Union publishes
the following letter, received by Miss
Susan L. Brown, of Machias, from her
sister, Mrs. Julia M. Garcia. The Garcia
plantation was situated about four
miles from Sagua. The insurgents made
a raid about the middle of January, and
burnt one of the sugar houses, stole one
horse and departed. It was hoped that
they would not return, and Mr. Garcia,
with some seventeen hands, was busy
with his season's work, having about
three hundred hogsheads of sugar
nearly ready for the market. The story
of the second rai<>is thus touchingly
told:
Sagua, Jan. 24,1876.
My Dear Sister: Now don't be
frightened when you hear what has happened
to us, with thousands of others.
We have been visited by the insurrects,
and our house and plantation burned
with everything we had in our house.
We are left without a bed to lie upon or
a dress to put on.
Only about twenty or thirty negroes
came, afoot. They tied Desiderio and
another white man, and made ns all
form a line, with guns at our breasts, to
kill us if we moved to save anything.
First they kilied my dog with shot and
stabs, for he defended himself until the
last moment. Then they stole everything
they wanted, even taking the
rings from my fingers; then set tire to
all the houses, took my oxen and cows,
and then marched us off among them,
with D. tied with a rope, and a negro
hold of the rope, and a gun at his
breast.
When at last they took us off outside
of the plantation, I was determined to
save Desiderio, so I took hold of the
a necrrn. and would not let him
go until he gave me back D., but the
other man they would not let go; they
took him a little way off and chopped off
his head. Oh, my God! what a night of
horror! Is there no one to hear, to see,
to save?
Make my case known, and if possible
see if something cannot be done. All the
houses, all the plantations, they are
burned. Every one is coming to town
and famine will follow.
We are here, in Sagua. I have $17 to
commence life anew with. All my photographs,
all my books, papers, everything
lost. Do please send me a Bible
when you can. I don't know what to
think or do; one can find no house here; j
we are in the house of a friend for a few
days, no more. But nothing can be
done?but patience !
Don't think that we shall have to suffer
hunger, for we can all do something
to gain our living until better days. But
these things ought to be stopped; this
war ought not to last longer.
We are all quite well. After we get
settled I will write again. Julia.
The Romance of a Ring.
Some time ago a wealthy and attractive
young gentleman of Washington
wa9 engaged to be married to a beautiful
belle of Morgantown, West Virginia,
but a month ago the engagement was
broken off. Of course, her engagement
broken, the young lady quickly sent
back the ring, and the quickest way 6he
could think of was by mail; so by mail
it went?that is, it started from Morgantown,
but never reached Washington.
The gentleman madi no inquiries about
I it, and might have gone on thinking
I that his former fiancee was mercenary
1 - i il. -'?! a
to noia on to tue miiguiuueufc 11115. J-'u>'
a few weeks ago one of the young lady's
friends saw the ring on the hand of another
lady. Investigation was at once
begun, and traced the ring to a clerk in
the Fairmont post office, who, it is alleged,
had stolen it from the mail, loaned
it to a gentleman friend in Mannington,
West Virginia, who had made it do
duty os au engagement ring for his fiancee
in Morgantown ! The Fairmont
post office clerk was arrested by government
officials, and will be tried in the
United States district court at- Parkersburg.
To the trial of the post-office clerk
will probably be summoned the young
lady who "sent back" the ring, and
possibly all parties connected with it,
including the Washington gentleman
and his fiancee.
An Easy Question to Answer,
One of our citizens is blessed, or
otherwise, with a very stubborn wife.
In his case he finds that when a "woman
will she will, you may depend on't, and
when she won't she won't, and that's an
end on't." This peculiarity of disposition
in his wife is no secret among his
associates, and one of them meeting him
the other day asked :
" W., do you know why you are like a
donkey ?"
"Like a donkey I" echoed W., opening
his eyes wide. " No, I don't."
" Do you give it up ?"
"I do."
" Because your better half is stubbornness
itself."
" That's not bad. Ha, ha ! I'll give
that to my wife when I get home."
"Mrs. W.," he asked, as he sat down
to supper, " do you know why I am like
a donkey ?"
He waited a moment, expecting his
wife to give it up, but she didn't; she
1 '-- "J V.C?v? anmfiirliof rtnmmisPTilh'riff.
JUU&CU Bll 1)1111 ouwvnuu> ^
ly as she answered :
"I suppose because you were born
80." '
W. has abjured the habit of putting
conundrums to his wife.
j
A Health Snggestion.
It is suggested in the London Lancet
that there should be an extension of the
" workship regulation act" which would
compel the registration and inspection
of all rooms in which the making of
j wearing apparel for sale is carried on.
! It appears that in England as well as in
this country epidemic diseases are frequently
spread by tailors and seamstresses.
Garments are made up in the
homes of workpeople who are not only
unclean and unhealthy, but who are suffering
from 6uch diseases as scarlet fever
or even smallpox. The Lancet mentions
several instances of work being
carried on in rooms where some person
was sick with scarlet fever, and of garments
being handled by those who were
recovering from that disease, thus scattering
for and wide the contagion*
3omiv
LPRIL 6, 1876.
The Editor's Wife.
Yes, I'm Mrs. Peter Snow, an liter's
wife. I well remember the day
when Mr. Snow asked me to become his
wife. I confess I liked Mr. Snow and,
thinking it would be a very fine thing |
to be the wife of an editor, I said yes,
as pretty as I knew how, and became
Mrs. Snow. I have seen ten years of
married life, and find my husband to be
an amiable, good natured man. He always
spends his evenings at home, and
is in that respect a model man; bnt he
always brings a pile of exchanges, which
is only limited by the length of his arms,
and reads, while I patch the knees and.
elbows of our pantaloons and coat.
After we have had a Quaker's meeting
of an hoar's length, I break the silence
by asking :
Mr. Snow, did you order that coal I
spoke to you about ?
" What did you say, my dear?" he
asks, after a few moments' silence.
Did you order that coal I spoke to
you about ?
"Indeed, my dear, lam sorry, but I
fnrcrnt all about it."
o? ?
Another hour's silenco, which is relieved
by the baby's cryiDg, and, rather
liking to hear a noise of some sort, I
make no effort to quiet him.
"My," says Mr. Snow, after he has
cried a miuute or so, " you had better
give the baby some catnip tea to quiet
him, he troubles me."
The baby is still; another hour passes
without a breath of noise. Becoming
tired of silence I take a lamp and retire
for the night, Jeaving Mr. Snow so engaged
with his paper that he does not
see me leave tbe room. Towards midnight
he comes to bed, and just as he
has fallen to sleep, the baby takes a
notion to cry again. I rise as quiety as
possible, and try to still him. While I
am walking in the room with a young
I Snow in my arms, our next?a boy of
j three years?begins to scream at the top
I of his lungs. There is no other < ourse
but to call Mr. Snow, so I call out:
Mr. Snow! Mr. Snow I
The third time he starts up and replies:
" What ? Tim, more copy ?"
As though I was Tim, that little imp
running about the office. I reply rather
tartly:
" No, I don't want any more copy?I
have had enough of that to last me m}
lifetime?I want to see what Tommy is
crying about."
Mr. Snow makes a desperate effort to
rouse himself; as Tommy stops to take
a breath, he falls asleep again, leaving
? - in flfl mnfh vexa
me KJ {jtHx; me iwu ?
tion as I can comfortably contain. The
next morning at breakfast, when I gave
Mr. Snow an ac:ount of last night's adventure,
he replies :
"Indeed, my dear, I am sorry the
children troubled you."
This is always the way. If I even
complain, it is, "Indeed, my dear, I am
very sorry."
But should the very same thing occur
the subsequent night, directly before his
eyes, very likely he would not see or
know anything about it, unless it happened
to interrupt his train of ideas.
Then he would propose catnip tea; but
before I can get it into the infant's stomach,
he will be far away into the realms
of thought, leaving me not a little vexed
at his stupidity.
Mr. Snow knows the nature of every
paper published in England and the
United States, but he cannot for the
life of him toll the names of his children.
He knows precisely the years of
every American journal, but he does not
know the age of his own baby. He
knows how every contributor looks, but
I do not believe he can tell whether my
eyes are black or blue.
They say Mr. Snow is getting rich.
All I know is, he gives me money to
clothe our boys, and that, too, without
complaint of poverty. I hope the world
is right in its opinion, and, when I am
satisfied it is, I shall advise him to resign
his editorial honors, and spend a
few months in becoming acquainted
with his wifo and children. The little
ones will feci much flattered in making
the acquaintance of so literary a man.
Effect of Light.
Doctor Moore, the metaphysician,
thus speaks of the effect of light on the
body and mind: A tadpole confined in
darkness would never become a frog;
and an infant deprived of heaven's free
light will only grow into a shapeless
* 1 1 1vaoonna.
lCllOt 1D8I6SQ OI & UCUUUiiu tuiu iwwvu?
ble being. Hence, in the deep, dark
gorges and ravines of the Swiss Yalais,
where the direct sunshine never peaches,
the liideons prevalence of idiocy staitles
the traveler. It is a strange, melancholy
idiocy. Many persons are incapable of
articulate speech; some are deaf, some
aro blind, some labor under all these
privations, and all are misshapen in almost
every part of the body. I believe
there is in all places a marked difference
in the healthiness of houses according to
their aspect in regard to the sun, and
those are decidedly the healthiest, other
I things being considered, in which all the
rooms are, during some part of the day,
fully exposed to the direct light. Epi
demic3 attack inhabitants on the shady
side of the street, and totally exempt
those on the other side; and even in
epidemics sucli as ague, the morbid influence
is often thus partial in its labors.
Something More of Mystery.
The old French arms investigation is
now recalled b7 the evidence in the
tv..* aiii'noco tIia was a mvsterious
x kji o urn voou. w
woman in that investigation, who appeared
to have made propositions to
New York parties to procure contracts
for a consideration. She professed the
power to seenre anything she desired at
the War department. There was a great
deal of difficulty in findiDg the witness,
but finally a woman came before the
I committee and testified to general and
unimportant affairs, and the impression
was created that some woman had atI
tempted to get money from the Now
York contractors under false pretenses,
and had really gained nothing. The
next year after foe investigation it became
the current belief that the real
woman in the case had been concealed.
A senator on the committee was named
as authority for this story. It is now
suggested that the samo lady who disposed
of trading posts delt in guns foi
the French army.
1ERCI
$2.00 per 0
Mr. Butteraick's Gas Bill.
Daring one of the few cold snaps that
we have had this winter the gas meter in
Mr. Batterwick's house was'frozen. Mr.
Butterwick attempted to thaw it out by
pouring hot water over it; but after
spending an hour upon the effort, he
emerged from the contest with the meter
with his feet and trowsers wet, his hair
full of dust and cobwebs, and his temper
at fever heat. After studying how he
should get rid of the ice in the meter,
he concluded to use force for the purpose,
and so, seizing a hot poker, he
jammed it through a vent hole and
stirred it around inside of the meter
with a considerable amount of vigor.
He felt the ice give way, and he heard
the wheels buzz around with rather
more vehemence than usual. Then he
went up stairs.
He noticed for three or four days that
the internal machinery of that meter
seemed to be rattling around in a re
- ? ^ 11
markable manner, it conld De neara an
over the konse. Bnt he was pleased to
find that it was working again in spite
of the cold weather, and he retained his
serenity.
About two weeks afterward his gas
bill came. .It accused him of burning,
during the auarter, 1,500,000 feet of
gas, and it called on him to settle to the
extent of nearly $350,000. Before Mr.
Butter*ick's hair had had time to descend
after the first shock, he put on his
hat and went down to the gas office. He
addressed one of the clerks:
" How much gas did you make at the
Blank works last quarter:
"I dunno; about a million feet, I
reckon."
"Well, you've charged me in my bill
for burning a half a million more than
you made; I want vou to correct it."
" Less see the bill. Hm?m?m?this
is all right. It's taken off the meter.
That's what the meter says."
"Spose'n it does; I couldn't have
burned more'n you made."
" Can't help that. The meter oan't
lie."
" Well, but how d'you account for the
difference ?"
"Dunno. 'Taint our business to go
nosiDg and poking around after scientific
truth. Wo depend on the meter. If
that says you burned six million feet,
why you must have burned it, even if
we never made a foot of gas out at the
works."
" To tell the honest truth," said Butterwick,
"that meter was frozen, and I
stirred it up with a poker and set it
whizzing around."
"Price just the same," said the clerk.
"We charge for pokers just like we do
for gas."
"You ain't actually goiDg to have the
audacity to ask. me to pay $350,000 on
account of that poker ?"
"Tf if. wdH #700.000 I'd take it with a
calmness that would surprise you. Pay
up or well turn off your gas.
" Turn it off and be hanged," explained
Butterwick, as he emerged from the
office, tearing his bill to fragments.
Then he went home, and grasping that
poker he ap^oached the meter. It had
registered another million feet since the
bill was made out. It was running up a
score of a hundred feet a minute. In a
month Butterwick would have owed the
gas company more than the United
States government owes its creditors.
So he beat the meter into a shapeless
mass, tossed it into the street, and turned
off the gas inside the cellar.
He is now sitting up at nights writing
an essay on " Our (Grinding Monopolies
" by the light of a kerosene lamp.
Sailors' Tarns and Wishes*
Notwithstanding their hardships,
sailors cannot refrain from "yarning "
in the most extravagant manner.
" If I was a king," said a sailor, " I
would make everybody rich; I would
take off the taxes, and make everybody
contented and happy. Then I would
marry a pretty girl, buy a horse and cow,
and go to farming." Jack always has a
great terror of taxes, though he never
pays any, and a most romantic idea of a
farmer's life, although he may never
have passed a day on a farm. That the
farmer has all night to sleep, while Jack
is liable to be called at any moment, is
the one great cause of sailors wanting to
be farmers." "If I was a king," said the
other, "I would make my father and
mother and all my brothers and sisters
rich, and then get all the money I could
and leave." He failed to say where he
would go?probably to "parts unknown."
"'Vast there," said the first
Jack, "how much money would you
want, any why? Be easy, now, don't
take a hog's bite."
" Well," said the other, "I would be
satisfied if that ship were loaded down
with needles, and every needle would
be worn out with making bogs to hold
my money."
"Belay there!" said Jack number
one. "Don't be a fool! Wh?n~ 70V
moifo o ttiqVv wifth for something in rea
iUUttv M T**VMy r
son. Now, I wish that I had a pile oi
money so big that your pile wouldn't
1 be enough to pay the interest on mine
so long as you could hold a red-hot
knitting kneedle in your ear 1"
, ?^
Pitts' Proposal.
Pitts is a fast man, a sharp man, and ?
man of business tact. When Pitts goec
to make a purchase, he always gets the
lowest cosh price, and then says
i " Well, I'll look about, and if I don't
i find anything that suits me better, I'll
i call and take this." Pitts, like all fast
men, is partial to the ladies, young onee
i in particular. Now, lately, Pitts say!
i to himself: "lam getting rather along
i in years, and so I'll marry." His busi
; ness qualities wouldn't let him wait; sc
; off he travels, calls upon a lady friend,
and opens conversation by remarking
i that he would like to know what she
thought about liis getting married
. "Oh, Mr. Pitts, that is an affair iu whict
I am not very greatly interested, and 1
' prefer to leave it with yourself.'
"But," says Pitts, " vou are interested
i and, my dear girl, will you marry me ?'
The young ladv blushed very red, anc
I hesitated; finally, as Pitts was very wel
to do in the world, mid of good standing
I in society, she accepted him. Wherenp
on the matter-of-fact Pitts responded
- "Well, I'll look about and if I don't fine
! an\ body that suite me better, I'll oom
I baok."
I
AL.
, im t ?*? O
jiDiiffl. Single Copy $ Cents.
if 'o ?i
A Bad Cold. ' "?
I've caught a cold?
I don't know how;
T on ' k?flhu?Z r*
When I" k?chow!"
And when I try,
Like a Chinee,
To eay " p?kitz !"
I eay " k?chee !"
Items of Interest . ,
Oat of 52,465 primary school teachers
in Prussia only 3,881 are women.
It is said that more ice will be housed
this winter on the Kennebec than ever
before.
The skin of the common house oat is
rapidly rising in favor for pur-pusses of
dress fur.
It cost Pennsylvania a round $100,000
to suppress the riots in the coal regions
last year.
It is said figures won't lie; but the
figures of some women are very deoeptive,
to say the least.
The London Twines calls the Constitution
of United States the " most sacred
document in the whole world. ': j *. '
A jury in a suicide case lately found
the following verdict: "We, the jury,
find that the deoeased was a fool."
They have a new way of putting it in Philadelphia
: John Jones picked pockets
on the cars and " will not go to tne
Centennial."
When you see a strange Italian boy
breaking windows, you may know that
his father, who mends glass, will be
along directly.
A hungry man desires a situation injm
eating house ; has had some experience,
and is willing to work and make things
| generally useiui w nmwrn.
Mother--" Charlotte, how do yon like
yonr new teacher ?" Charlotte?-" Qb,
she'8 a splendid teacher. She don't care
whether we know our lessons tor not/',
Salutatory of the editor of the Madison
ville (Ky.) Southwest: " Good morning.
We intend publishing a paper.If
you don't like it, you needn't read ii"
language was given to inen and
women that they might comnfrmicate
their wishes and say pleasant; things to
each other with it, but it has beeugrsat>T
abated by lying.
Mrs. Swisshelm hits the mark in
ter to the Chicago Tribune, in which she
says: " We need a religion whichisfetihs
'sixteen ounces of sugar for a pound/
and no sand in it." , n+uwm a
The day has gone by wbeu you q^n
chain a grasshopper to an astronomer's
telescope, and make the star gazer believe
that he has discovered /new Weed
of horses in the moon.
Miss Fannie Palmer, of San Juan
island, was lost on the . Pacific. Her
body has been found. Th^ waves carried
it 150 miles and cast it up on the
beach almost within sight of her phrents'
house.
An exchange prints specimens of -Wilt
Whitman's forthcoming book on poetry.
It is like all his other poetry
?don't rhyme worth a cent?pnlew you
would call " purple " and "smokestack "
a good rhyme. ' ' '*"?
An English newspaper writer describes
New .Orleans as a city of many tengnee,
I and pays itspeople a fine oompHmept by
| declaring that a Lady may walk alpne by
day or night from one end of the citato
the other and not be insulted. ' ' '*
A bright little three yew old in Haftford
having beootne a little mixed between
lier religious instruction .ami -bet
nursery rhymes, gravely recites-.'*^he
Lord is my shepherd, and he Ibst ^is
sheep, and he don 't know where to find
them." arris taritt
In the days of oar fathers, when atsan
suddenly dropped ontof the community,
they nsed to drag the neighboring
ponds and f ximire all available hangI
mcr places in the vicinity. Nowadays
the first steps are to examine his Dana
acconut. || -w ,
He was a Parisian. They asked him
what would be the most horrible thing
i to him. He said , after a long reflection
: "It would be to be guiliotfiHkl
I without knowing it, and to como to my
self all of a sudden and see myself in a
i glass, headless." i f i
Hardwick, Mass., still retains the ani
cient custom of levying a direct " ministers'
tax." The members of the Con1
gregational society are regularly assessed
on the basis of the town valuation, and
? their tax bills are presented and collect i
ed in due form. ? .
1 John Q. Adams was onoe asked what
ho most lamented in his life. He an1
swered: "My impetuous temper aiid
,l vitupc-rous manner of speech, which pre'
vents me from returning good ior evil,
and induces me, in the madness of my
blood, to say things that afterwards J am
ashamed of."
To clean and restore the elasticity 61
r cane chair bottoms, turn the chair bottcftfa
. upward, and with hot water and a : ponge
| wash the cane ; work well, so that it as
. well soaked; should it be dirty, use soap;
let it dry in the air, and it will be as
tight and firm as new, provided none of
the canes are broken. , t *
Lapland Infants.
i A correspondent tells a strange story
i about the Lapland infants, and how they
: are kept still at meeting. The Lapp
; mammas don't slay at home with their
I babies on Sunday. The Lapps are a
i very religions people. They go imi
mense distances to hear their pastors,
j Every missionary is snre of a large audil
ence, and an attentive one. He can hear
- a pin drop, that is, should he choose to
> drop one himself. His congregation
, woaldn't make so mnoh noise as that
r noon any consideration. All the babies
) are ontside, buried in the snow. As
, soon as tko family arrives at the little
i wooden church, and the reindeer is se[
cured, the papa Lapp shovels a snug
' little bed in the snow, aad mam;
ma Lapp wraps baby snugly in
' skins, and deposits it' therein.
I Then papa piles the snow around it, and
I the dog is left to guard it, while the pa\
rents go deoorously into church. O'teu
- twenty or thirty babies lie out there iu
: the snow around the church, and I ncv1
er have heard of one that suffocated or
? froze. Smoke-dried little creatures, I
suppose they an tough I