The Fairfield news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1881-1900, July 08, 1885, Image 1
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|h " WINNSBQRO, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 8, 1885. NO 25.
A Memory.
An old-world coun^ ~arden, where the
H hours
Like winded sunbeams ii_-n in trlory by.
And where the scent of strange, oid-1'ashioned
flowers
Brings back a tender bygone memory.
The walks are straight, and patterned with
wj?*~ ~ stone.
And pacin.t there with reverential tread,
I dream o*??e more I hold within my own
fi The soft <rarm lingers of the child who's
H. Ocsto?
! wU/NCA -O/>/>fcfnTAC T*iorl Tvlth
O-iiU J* UVCV LJ ?*vv? ......
r mir?.
As we to? chased the srolclen butterflies?
1^ The child who reveled in the bright sunshine,
/ And shrined her gladness in her laughing
K3S[iS^ eyo?:
Sag [g?- we used to linger in the lone soft grass.
And when c sun-ray kissed her dimpled hand,
k We told cach other 'twas a fairy puss
??Sr '"--To read the secrets of our Fairyland:
And, holding safely in her radiant face
That happy sparkle, we would run to peep
If dewdrops trembled in the self-same place,
k Or last night's bud had blossomed in its sleep.
And whispered love-names in the baby ears;
She made the glory of the Summer's day.
My wso liese lady of but five short years!
And now? Small wonder that the roses lie
In petaled fragrance by the dasies' side.
For sunshine vanished with tier last soft sigh,
And skies are grayer since our darling died.
. ?Chamber's Journal
^ITTLE NAN'S FORTUNE.
' 4 "Come in," called Miss Morrin in
her pleasant voice.
So the door opened and Little Xan.
& song-and-dance artiste, appeared on
't the threshold.
Her thick red hair was twisted in a
tight knot on the top of her head, a
row of curl-papers fringed her forehead,
little dabs of powder were left
on her cheeks, her calico Mother Hubbard
was faded, and there was a long
jT- rent in the skirt. She came timidly
y into the room a^ci laid a large white
>'N *?velope down on the table.
^qiiiekly
> -p ,
took up the attractive white envelope.
L It contained a birthday card, a very
w pretty card. On one side were a landscape
and a solitary bird on the branch
of a tree, and on the other were
printed the following verses:
There's gloom without, but there's cheer
within.
Sollicking shout and rattling: din.
*
They kiss, pood kick! with a rare good will!
Each lucky Jack has a darling JUL
It's a trifle hard, (as I think you'll see),
On a lonely, scarr'd old bird like me.
??A /VM Viiiv? KL-o mo!"
repeated Miss Morrin to herself.
"Yes, *1 am getting to be an old bird,
v ^ 1 ara 35 to-day ana James is 38. We
are both growing old and are no nearer
being married than we were ten years
ago. Twenty-five is rather late in life
to enter upon along engagement. But
I would rather wait for James than
marry a millionaire. Dear James! He
) thinks it is his duty to stay in Maine
and preach to those poor, uneducated
people when he might be pastor of a
rich church with a salary large enongh
to support us all. Of course it is his
first duty to care for his mother and
sifter. Unfortunately I am poor too.
I wku I had a few hundred dollars to
buy a claim or grub-stake some poor
prospector. If i was a man I would
take a pick and go up on the mounk
tains and dig; but being a woman all
. l'can do is to wait. I wonder what
made that child give me this card. I
never spoke to her until this morning.
They say she dances at the theatre,
i and "with a shudder at the thought Miss
I. V >C : ? 5,"
FdLLUlllU >y cuu Uix lcauui^
Down-stairs in the office of the Grand
Hotel old Billy was smoking his pipe.
> He wore long boots that came to his
knees, corduroy pants, and a flannel
shirt His broad-brimmed felt hat
was tipped over his eyes. He had
tilted his arm-chair- against the wall
and thrust his hands into his pockets.
"It's her birthday, and I give her a
card," Little Nan was saying. "She
said good mornin' when I metheron. the
stairs. Hain't she sweet? Bet your
J life! It was a stuanin' card. There
^ was a bird on a tree and the bird was
savin' po'try. It said somethin' 'bout
S bein' a scarr'd old bird."
, * "By ginger!" exclaimed old Billy,
"you've went and done it this time."
Then he chuckled. "Didn't you knowshe
was an old maid ?a regular Yankee
schoolraa'm? Why didn't you pick out
a nice piece 'bout young love and forget-me-don'ts,
and all that kind o'
thing."
"It was a mighty pretty card and
dirt cheap," answered* Little Nan disconsolately.
"She wouldn't think I
was pokin' fun at her, would she?"
looking up anxiously.
"Reckon not," said old Billy, "you
wouldn't find it out if she did. She's
an up and down lady. This 'ere
camp's no place for. her." There hain't
another one of her kind to keep her
company. Ought to send fur her sis-"
ter, or eousm, or somethm. Uon t
see what brung her way out here to
keep school"
Little Nan gazed in the fire with her
large blue eyes.
"She hain't like us," she said slowly.
"She hain't a bit like us."
The school children were troublesome
the next day. Miss Morrin tried
coaxing, then scolding; and finally was
strongly tempted to resort to corporal
punishment. But she was slight and
frail, and there were some large boys
in the school. On her way home at
noon she decided she was still far from
being fit for a minister's wife. There
were letters from Maine on her table.
Old Mrs. Jones had died at last?she
was 93?and there had been a church
sociable. Sister Man* had saved
enough e^-rnonev to buy herself a
black cashmere dress. She" thought of
having it' made with a kilted skirt and
a polonaise. It was a long time since
Mary had bought a new dress, Miss
Morrin remembered. Just then a woman
clad in velvet and sealskin passed
the Grand. Six months before, this
same robust female had been glad to
wash, flannel shirts for the miners.
Her "old man" had just struck it
rich. And down in Maine Sister
Mary was seKing eggs and hoarding up
every nickel in order to buy herself a
plain cashmere dress.
"Please ma'am," interrupted Little
Nan. having knocked again at Miss
Morrin's door. "Will you come and
look at old Billy? He's talkin' to himself
and his fuce is red a" the deuce."
-The what?' said Mi&s Morrin,
.somewhat shocked.
"I said his face was red." repeated
Little Nan, innocently. ; ->
Miss Morrin silently followed Nan
aeross the hali to a small room plainly
furnished. Old Billy lay quietly on
the bed, a patchwork quilt over him,
and his head on a dirty pillow. Sb
looked up as they entered.
"Good mornin'," he said with an effort.
"Ik's so dark I can't see yon."
"I'll raise the blind," said Miss Morrin.
"Then I pass," murmured old Billv.
i,YT~ ? u -j >1 ___
-\q.? iuxuix5 uu s piuym poser, ex'
plained Little Nan, in a whisper. "He
don't know what he's sayin'. Would
you mind sittin' with him while I git
the doctor?"
; /
.
g<:r- . . .
9" : - '". v ' >' v .. .
\
As she left the room old Billy put his
hand on Miss Morrin's arm." For a
moment he was quite himself.
"Please git me a pencil and bit of
paper," he said eagerly. "Quick!"
Silently Miss Morrin rose and crossed
the hall to her room. When she returned
she handed a sheet of tinted
note-paper and a long Faber pencil to
the sick man.
With an effort old Billy raised his
head and Miss Morrin piled up the
dirty pillows behind him. He wrote a
few lines feebly; then the pencil
dropped from his hand. He thrust the
bit of paper under the pile of pillows
and drew the patchwork quilt well
around his shoulders. Still he shivered
slightly. "I'm so cold and tfred,"
he murmured. Then a sweet peace
seemed to steal over his face. His
eyes closed and he fell gently asleep.
But he never woke again in this world.
The day of the funeral Little NatL came
to Miss Morrin's room with a
basket of bright flowers on her arm. *
"Will you please help me to fix the
flowers?" she asked while the tears
came to her eyes. "I want to make a
wreath for old Billy."
"Sit down," said'MLss Morrin, kindly
and drew a rocking-chair toward the
fire. . Then^jhe turned to her trunk,
and, after^some search, came back to
her visitor with a roll of fine wire in
her hand. Tenderly she lifted the flow!
Tho-ro wnro rorl rncoc inH Tlinlc I
and scarlet geraniums, and a few sprigs _
of.green.
- "Old Billy liked bright flowers,11 said |
/Little Nan. "He used to throw 'em to j
* me often." ?:
"What do you do at the theatre?"
asked Miss Morrin hesitatingly.
"I'm a song and dance artiste," an- |
swered Nan proudly. "I sing songs
and dance." ?
"Do?do ladies attend?"
"No, ma'am; only men."
Miss Morrin shuddered.
"And jou like to sing and dance before
them?" she said severely.
"Not much, ma'am; I git awful tired
| sometimes."
"Then, my child, why not earn your
. living some other way? It would be
hpftpr rr> srvrnh flonrs all dav Inner."
1""~v ?~ ~? J o
"But they wouldn't pay mc
I no thin'."
"What matter?" began Miss Morrin
virtuously.
"But I send my money home, pretty
near even' dollar," said Little 2san.
"There's six of 'em besides me. My
mother's dead. Father don't git but
half-wages now. Fve earned a heap
the last two years, since I've bin dancin'.
I'm the oldest one. I'm lS.
There's two dead between me and
Willie. He's 12. Jennie, she's 10 and
the baby's 2. Jennie has an easier time
than I had takin' care of 'em. They're
up and out of the way now."
The wreath was finished before Miss
Morrin'spoke again.
"Who taught you to dance?" she
said suddenly.
"A man my father knew. He had a
theatre. I've a standin' engagement
at the Central. Old Billy was awful
good to me. I never saw him before I
come here, but he kinder took to me.
He was poor, too. He had a claim up
me mountain, out- ? guess u<; uevet
struck it. He never sold much ore,
anyhow. Haint that a beautiful wreath ?
Billy would think it was stunnin'. He
always liked everything bright.
When the funeral was over and they
had all returned to the Grand Hotel,
Little" Nan threw herself on her bed
and cried piteousiy. Miss Morris heard
her sobbing, and, entering her room,
tried to comfort he*. Presently cNan
sat up.
"I must dress," she said, wearily.
"It must be late." Her long hair fell
around her and silently Miss Morrin
took a brush and began to smooth its
bright strands. Then Nan put on hef
shawl and hopd.
"I'll git 'em to let me sing 'Under ,
the Daises,' " she said, suddenly.
"Old Billy always liked it He used to
nntil TM f?nmA nn? at><3 sine it fnr
him. Maybe he'll hear it to-night."
"Maybe he will," answered Miss
Morrin with tears in her eyes. "I'm
snre he will!" "
mm* * *
Spring came. The snow that had
lain for months on the mountains began
to melt slowly and prospectors
talked of grub-stakes. Old Billy's
claims had not been disturbed since he
died. Iso one supposed them of any
value. It was known that he was without
wife or children.
One day the chambermaid of the
Grand found a shetfc of tinted paper behind
the bed in the room that had once
been old Billy's. She was a lazy, careless
girl, and the paper had lain undisturbed
for more than three months. As
she could not read wxi?ing;she carried
' it to Little Nan.
But Little Nan herself could not resxl
writing readily. She glanced at the few
lines on the paper and spelled - out the
name William Struthers at the bottom
01 tne page.
"Maybe its somethin' 'bout his
claims. I'll take it to Mr. Nickleson
He can. read it right off."
So on her way. to rehearsal Kan
stepped into Mr. Nickleson's office and
handed him the little sheet of pink-tinted
paper.
It took the smart lawyer from Boston
but a. moment to discover that he
held old Billy's last will and testament
k in his hand. ; y
"Did you read it?" he asked, glancing
keenly at Little Nan.
"I didn't have time to spell it out,"
answered Nan. "There's nothin' 'bout
me ii} it, is there?" _ .
"He's left his claims to you," said,
the lawyer. "They may not be worth
much, but they are yours: I'll find out
about them and let you know."'
"Don't hurry yourself," called out
Nan as she shut the door. "Dear old
Billy!" she thought "He did all he
could for me when he was livin' an'
i men newenuana ieitme tnem noxes m
the ground. Bet your life they haint
r- worth a cent He never sold-no ore
from 'em.
A week later when Little Nan called
again at Mr. Niekleson's office the lawyer
made her his very best "bow.
"Take a chair," he said nervously.
Then he cleared his throat. "My dear'
Miss Malony," he be<ran. "I have
some?I may say, ?."He darted-into
the adjoining room and returned with
a glass of water.
"Drink this and then I have something
to tell yon."
"Fire away," answered Kan. "I
haint tbursty." v j ? j v * i?
"Caar'yoir bear wood news?!! asked
the lawyer solemnly. , .
' '^Tever'li'ad none"" said Little Nan.
"I have discovered," went on the
lawyer, "that old Billy's claims are
quite valuable; in fact he must have
made a big strike some time ago. but
for some reason of his own he took out
very little ore. Still he uncovered a
very fine body of mineral. I have just
i o AfTor fnr ifL * * i ?
"How much?" asked Nan shortly.
"Three hundred thousand dollars in
cash," replied the lawyer slowly.
/ --
"That's a heap o' money," said Nan
coolly. "Think I could git anv more
fur it?"
"Well, you'll begetting a-fair sum,"
answered the lawyer dryly. '"Itwould
take you several^ars to earn as much.
I think you had better.'accept the offer." j
"I don't have to divide with you, do |
I?" said Nan shrewdly: "See here, j
Give me ?300,000 and I'll sell. You'll
make a lot out of it, some way, bet
your life. But mind, I want it all in 1
money. I won't have no checks. They
mighn't be good."
"In money!" gasped the lawyer.
"Have you any idea how big a pilo
I 08AA fMVl vL-r>n1<) mo.L-o?"
"No," said Nan," but I reckon I
| could lag it off some way. But I won't
; take no checks until I find out whether
they're good or not. There's noboby
cheats rue and old Billy!"
"Come tomorrow," said the lawyer,
"and I'll have the papers ready to
sign." ft I
:< The next day at noon Miss Morrin
had just seated herself to read a Maine
paper wheu there cunie a knock that
had grown famiiiar. Little Nan walked
in quietly, and seating herself rocked !
restlesly back and forth.
"Is your father rich?" she asked,
suddenly.
"No," answered Miss Morrin. "He's
a poor farmer. That's why I'm ont
here teaching school."
"Like to teach?"
"I get very tired sometimes," sighed
Miss Idorrin. "The children are so
troublesome."
"You know a lot about liggers, don't
you?" said Nan. "Three hundred
: thousand dollars is a pretty good pile,
hain.t it?"
"Weil, yes," smiled Miss Morrin.
"We would call a man with as much
as that very rich out in Maine."
" 'Taintmuch fur here," said Nan a
little contemptuously. "You don't call
?25,000 much, do you?"
"It would be nice to have," said
Miss Morrin. Then she sighed. How
happy that modest sum would make
: her and James!
i "Do- roa ?it much fur teachin?"
| asked Little 2* an, abruptly.
"Xo, but I manage to get along and
I send some money home, just as you
! do."
\- Nan rocked back and forih?back
and forth.
' I'm goin' home to-night,".she said,
suddenly. "I reckon I'll take the 12
o'clock train. I shan't never forget
you," she added softly. "I took a
shine to you the d:iy you spoke to me
on the stairs. There haint many ladies
in this 'ere camp, and none of 'em
speaks to me. Old Billy liked you.
too."
She rose and crossed the room, then
; paused. "Thankyou fur bein' kind to
me!" and for the "last time the door
closed upon Little Nan.
During the following day an envelope
bearing the stamp of the First National
Bank was handed Miss Morrin. She
hastily tore it open, and there fell out
a check for $25,000.
But although she followed up every
clew she could never discover the
whereabouts of the sender.
The interest of his wife's private
fortune is a great help to the Rev.
James Wetherill, who is still a poor
minister in Maine.
Seen In Kremlin. *
I heard and read a great deal about
the Kremlin, but had no distinct idea
of what it was like until I saw it ;I.
had no idea of its vast extent; that
within its walls were contained palaces,
churches, monasteries and arsenals.
The walls surrounding all these structures
are of vast thickness. At frequent
intervals are watch towers of fanciful
design, and the battlement are all loop
holed for the discharge of missiles. Inside
is the Red Square, so called from
the thousands of judicial murders there
. committed, and in the center of it is a
group of statuary called "The Prince
and Moujik." There are many entrances
into the Kremlin, but the principal
one is !the Redeemer Gate, which is
considered a holy place, on account of
a certain famous statue which finds
lodging in one of its niches. When
passing through this portal every one
is supposed to take off his hat. The
Convent of the Ascension is a strange
freak of architectural fancy, but beautiful
withal. Near it is a place where
the holy oil is manufactured, with
which all Russian children are baptized.
Around the arsenal arc hundred of cannon
taken from the French, and there
I saw that immense piece of ordnance
called the Bang of Cannon, but which,
like the King of Bells, also in the
Kremlin, is tit for nothing but show.
r ^ J -.1. _ __a.l 3 1
JLne JLYan lower uuu. iue uaifleurax,
with its numberles.; costly thrones, are
both monuments of human skill. It is
in this cathedral that the Czars of
Russia crown themselves, no other
than their own hands being considered
fit for the holy office. The palace,
which has an unpretentious appearance
outside, being coated with stucco, is of
great extent. It contains the St.
George's Hall and numberless suits of
apartments for the guests of royalty.
The throne of the Czar was shown to
me, and as 1 stood looking at it I almos't
trembled as I thought of the undisputed
sway, of the limitless power
of life and" death over a hundred
millions of people, which he v.*ho had
occupied it a few days before held.?
John L. Stoddard. . ,
s vi fT' i -
; ? - rz
After G,*tty -!s.?
After the battle of Geity-l-urg, when
le baffled confederates. u>.tu. weary,
iieartsore, were recrossin^ iiic Potomac
at dusk, many were ?rr.?:;':ini?, some
were cursing, while the majority felt
too unhappy to express themselves
boisterously. Finally they went into
camp, cooked their frugal meal, and
settled down to a grim ?juarrel with
fortune or lasped into >.ulien silence.
All at once, swelling melodiously
through the summer air, came a noble,
resonant tenor voicc sin^iusr "Give Me
a Cot in the Valley I Love. ' The soldiers
listened with rapture and the
dear vision of home turned the bitterness
in their hearts to sweetness and
peace. All blasphemy, anger and unutterable
anguisii ceased. By the
power of song Heaven descended upon
I Lit; I XiWA 1U V11V1JL WVJUUi, ifcLiVO.
when the ballad lulled into an echo,
dying plaintively away, it was as if an
angel had passed and touched the
valiant men in gray with the healing of
his wing.?J. B. li.
The.Superintendent of Education in
New Haven came to the conclusion
recently that many-of the lady teachers
wrote so carelessly that they were
not fit to teach writing. The* result'
was an order that they attend on Saturdays
(their weekly holiday) for an
hour's practice. This has provoked a
perfect tempest, and the mildest epithet
applied to the superintendent by pretty,
pontine; lips is "The mean, horrid old
or r>1oim f.-uv flint tViPtr
"""o* --~~J ?? ?-> J
write better than he does,: which is
more likely.?Hartford TimesisX-Zxh-tA
.'<,V ;?
TRAIN TALK.
A young man who had introduced
himself to a lady by raising the window
for her was glibly talking of his
travels. He had been in a good many
places during his life-time, hadn't forgotten
an}' of them and didn't seem to
miss one in his account. He was so
much interested in his conversation
that he failed to notice the lady's frequent
yawning and other palpable evidences
that she was feeling bored.
"As for the water," he said, "I just
love the water. I am a splendid sailor.
I Never have any trouble at all. Never
got scared. They used to call me a
regular old salt. I?"
"But you never sailed on the saltwater,
did you?"
"Yes; yes, indeed. Many a time.
But why did you ask?"
"Oh, I was merely thinking that vou
hadn't"
i "Hello, old man, where are you
| bound?" inquired the conductor of an
acquaintance in the smoking car.
"Going back East," was the response,
| rather sourly.
"Have you quit railroading out in
Idaho?"
"Yes, I have."
"What's the matter?"
"Oh, I don't want to run a locomotive
in a country where towns die off
so fast that in the place where we get
our dinners one day the next day we
stop as usual and look all around, but
not a shanty is to be seen. - I like my
dinners regularly, I do, and no more
Idaho in mine, please."
The smoking car of an incoming
train was full of passengers. It was
also full of hot air.
"Hear we're goin' to have cholera
this summer," remarked one passenger
to his seat-mate.
"Shouldn't wonder."
"Well in that case I think it is every
man's duty to clean up an' git things
in readiness to fight tSe scourge."
"Do you mean to do that yourself?"
"Yes, I do."
"Vei7 good. Don't lose any time
about it, either. You will find a bathroom
right across the street from the
depot"
"Here's an item in the paper," remarked
a Wisconsin farmer, "that says
it costs 42 cents to stop a train."
"Voe air cr'nat.
show on careful investigation."
"Well, if that's the figure most ofthe
roads get off cheap. Up our way a
train is stopped every few nights, and
it always costs the company from $50
up. Nicest way for us poor farmers to
work off sick cows or played out horses
ever you saw."
"More Afghan troubles, I see," remarked
a passenger from St. Louis;
"and that reminds me of the first Afghan
trouble I can remember."
"When was that?"
"Many years a?;o. I took two St.
Louis girls out sleigh-riding one cold
night and both of 'em tried to cover
their ears with c. j Afghan, it couldn't
be done and war followed."
"It's rather strange," observed a passenger
from Pittsburg, - -that England
should send clear over to Missouri to
buy mules for use in the Soudun. I
wonder what that's for?"
"Tactics, my dear sir, tactics," replied
a military looking man. "England's
policv in Ejrvpt is to zet up close
to the enemy and"then turn tail and retreat
slowly and in good order. Here
is where the mule is expectcd to get in
his work."
"Well this is mighty discouraging,"
said a young man as he looked up from
his paper. "1 read here that old, banged-up,
broken nosed pitchers are a
drug in the market, and are worth only
SO cents apiece." (
"What's that to you? Have you been
speculating in decorative relics?"
'Relics! Thunder, no! I'm a base
ball pitcher."?Wtllman in Chicago
HeralcL
Home of t'-e Cardiff Giants.
- The city of Muboriy, Mo., is stirred
up over a wonderful buried city, which
was discovered at the bottom of a coal
-1 AAA -T i. I 1_ ! ^1_ ?
scut okaj ieei< i;?up, wuusu was
suuk near Moberly. A hard aad thick
stratum of lava arches in the buried
city, the streets of which are regularly
laid out and enclosed by walls of stone,
which is cut and dressed in fairly good,
although rude, style of masonry. A
hall 30x100 feet was discovered, wherein
were stone bcnches and tools of all
descriptions for mechanical service.
Further search disclosed statues and
images made of a composition closely
resembling bronze, lacking luster.
A stone fountain was found in a wide
court or street, and from it a stream of
perfectly pure water was flowing,
which, upon being tasted, was found to
be strongly impregnated with lime.
Lying beside the fountain were portions
of the skeleton of a human being.
The bones of the leg measured, the
femur four and one-half feet, and the
tibia four feet and three inches, showing
that when alive the figure, was
three times the size of an ordinary
man, and possessed of wonderful muscular
power and quickness. The head
bones had seoarated in two nieces, the I
sagittal and the coronal suture having
been destroyed. The implements found
embrace bronze and flint knives, stone
and granite hammers, metallic saws of
rude workmanship but proved metal,
and others of similar character. They
are not so highly polished nor so accurately
made" as those how finished by
our best mechanics, but they show skill
and an evidence of an advanved civilization.
The searching party spent twelve
hours in the depths, and only gave up
explorations because of the oil in their
lamps bein^ low. These facts are
vouched for by Mr. David Coates, the
recorder of the city of Moberly, and
\fv Monroro TTpsHrw. rif-v marshal, who
were of the exploring party. A further
extended search will be made in a day
or two.?N. Y. Sun.
A few weeks ago the cashier of a
Western bank wrote to a distinguished resident
of Canada as follows: Dear
sir: I have a splendid opportunity to
gobble up ?60,000 and join you in
Canada. Can 1 have fun enough to
offset the sacrifices of reputation, home
and a large circle of lriends?" The
distinguished resident replied by next
mail as follows, and wrote "in haste1'
on the envelope: "Don't you do it.
I got away with a heap more swa?
than that, and 1 can't find a CanucK
who'll even drink beer with me." It
is said that the D. R. misses his dear
Bible class more than all else.? Wall
Street News. i
^ n m
A Buffalo newspaper,/in very large
type, contains this distressing "sign of
the times:" "Ladiea, we have received
a new importation of long hair,
from 24 to 30 inches,including an elegant
a<isortment of ?'rev colors."
*
/
i
J
/
/
7
A Chatham Street Tragedy.
Lconidas Baxter was drunk last
Thursday- There is 110 question about
it. The p'oliceman caught him in the
very act of attempting to pay for a free
lunch in a;Chatham street cellar, and
was immediately arrested. On Friday
morning Mr. Baxter presented a saddened
and unwashed face to the justice.
> .
"Leonidas Baxter?" queried the justice,
looking over his glasses at the
prisoner i? the box.
"Yes, sir," huinblv replied that indi
vidual.
"Is that.your right name?"
"Yes, sir," responded the prisoner,
with digpity. "You don't think I
would play any tricks on the court I
hope." 2b
"You are.accused of being in a state
of intoxication yesterday afternoon.
Policeman Smith arrested you in Chatham
street* "What have you to say for
yourself ?r
"True^yonr honor. I was intoxicated;
buft I had an excuse. Listen,
before yot?send me up. I am a restaurateur
by "profession, I once owned an
eating-hc^e on Sixth avenue; but Ii,u
was unfa^unate. I could not'pay the '
rent," anc- had to move into Bleecker
street.' my bad luck pursued me,
a6d I wgg obliged to move again. This
time I rented a room in Chatham
street 1 had very little money, and it
was necessary for mc to get quick returns
from my investment Chatham
street business methods, I need not tell
your hoHbr, are not what I was accustomed
td; but you know the old maxim,
When ?ou are in Jerusalem do as the
Jews da* Across the street from my
place is ;an eating-den kept by a shockhaired,
> red-eyea lobster, who, if I
might offer the suggestion, ought to be
on the island. He has been my banc,
my curse."
"WeSL" interrupted the justice; I am
in a hufiy, Mr. Baxter."
"On<*noment longer, your honor,"
replied-f the prisoner, "and I am
through^ After I had been running
my plan one week, I found that my expenses
were $75 and my receipts $17.13.
I had pnjy $100 left. I had to make a
stir some way, so I hired a young man,
bought him a neat suit of clothes, and
started him out with a big placard
fastened to his coat, which read:
" 'I eat my lunch at Baxter's Palace
restaurant'
t4Asie walked up the street, he attracted
universal attention, and business
began to pour in. About noon I
noticed that it suddenly stopped- <Jn
going out, I discovered the cause of the
trouble. The lobster had seduced my
sign, filled it up with rum, and stationed
it in front of my dooi. Its clothes
were covered with mud, and its hat
was jammed over its head to the chin.
Of course, no one would come into a
place with such a sign. That experiment
cost ine $40. The next day a
brilliant idea came to me, and I hastened
to seize upon it. It was my dernier
resort, so to speak. I went to the
dime museum and engaged the fat man
and the living skeleton. I paid them
$30 apiece, my last cent. I put a huge
card on the fat man's back, which
read:
" i eat at Leonidas Baxter's.'
' .1 - il T j. IT
"Ana on ine tmn man i put aiiumer
sicn-W
V-fSonV
"Then I started them down the street
arm in arm. The effect was prodigious.
Crowds followed in the:: wake. And
the populace at once began to inquire:
'Where is Baxter's?1 'Let us go to this
wonderful restaurant' I was in ecstasies
of joy. I contemplated renting.
the next room and hiring ten new waiters.
When I was in the midst of this
delirium of delight I was again brought
face to face with despair. From the
summit of my prosperity I was hurled
into the depths of ruin.
A deputy sheriff came in and closed
my doors. Then, your honor, I took to
drink to drown my sorrow. But I
aboil hp rAvenced nn the lobster."
"What did he do to injure you this
time?" inquired the justice.
"What did he do?" i*epeated the
?risoner. "He changed the signs!"?
'tick.
? ? ' ?
Booth's Ride By Night.
"Did you ever know how Booth
passed the pickets on the bridge of the
Potomac that fatal night3" said my
friend. "I will tell you as it was told
me by the old sentinel who was that
night on duty there. A half hour before
the time agreed upon by Booth to
meet Harold the latter, who had lived
in the neighborhood of the bridge all
his life, and who was across the river
in the little village of Uniontown then,
crossed the bridge to come over on the
Washington side. 'Who goes there?'
said the sentinel on the bridge. 'A
friend, going for a doctor,' replied
Harold. 'Pass,' said the sentinel. He
quickly rode up Eleventh street to Penn171
ctvoftf o ri A
aj,iVJ.Uia arciiut
there in the darkness waited until the
thundering hoofs of Booth's horse were
heard coming down Pennsylvania
avenue. The two horsemen then started
down EicMu street toward the
bridge on t..uc ride for their lives,
which ended in Garrett's burning barn
in Virginia, -a hundred miles away.
'Who goes there?' rang out on the air
from the startled sentry as the two
horses came rushing toward the bridge.
Harold was ahead and cried out, 'A
friend, with the doctor.' The two men
passed over the bridge, and it was perhaps
several hours after the reverberations
of the horses hoof3 had died away
before the sentry knew who the men in
such a hurry really were, and when he
found it out he was nearly scared to
death for fear he had failed to do his (
duty."?Philadelphia Times.
"EMif/vrc Trill linro tTioir r\or>n]i!>'ritioc
as well as other people. They practice ;
and inculcate brevity, which is a Tir- ^
tue. "They arc absent-minded, which
is a failing. It is not strange, then, that
one should send a note to his lady-lov
like the following: "Dearest, I have
carefully analyzed the feeling I entertain
for you, and the result is substan- !
tially as follows: I adore you! Will ;
you be mine? Answer." Then, after a 1
moment of thought, he added in a 1
dreamy, absent way: "Write only on
one side of the paper. Write plainly,
and give real name, not necessarily for <
publication, but as a guarantee of good 1
faith.?Buffalo Courier. J
? i
Patents in Mexico cost from $10 to ;
$300, according to the ideas of the of- i
lice there as to the importance of the
invention covered. The usual rate is
$25, but an enterprising Chicago firm 1
has been sending out circulars propos- j
in<* to obtain a Mexican patent for the
uniform fee of $40. \
The growth of Socialism in Great -
Britain is not inexplicable. In that
country more than 10,000 landlords, (
while doing nothing, receive from the <
soil more tnan twicc as much as the to- .
tal wages paid to 860,000 laborers for ]
working twelve hours through the ,
seven davs in every week. :
Anecdote of General Stager.
"The death of (General Anson Stager,
reminds me of how he took the first
telegraph message by sound, in this
city, about forty years ago."
The speaker, says the Pittsburg
Times, was one of the very oldest newspaper
men in Pittsburg, one whoge
memory goes away back, from the
present to the time when Mount Washington
was but a hole in the ground,
and covers everything between.
"There are various claimants of the
honor of being the first .to take by ear,"
he continued, "but I do not think any
of the others go back as far as this. It
was about forty years ago when the
O'Reilly line was the only telegraph
wire into Pittsburg. The office was in
the second story of the Odeon building,
on Fourth avenue, over the old Mayor's
office. David Brooks, who is now leading
the underground-wire fight before
+ Virt T orriclofiiro w?c mnn eraT *>nr! Art.
son Stager, who has just died, ex-President
of the Western Union Telegraph
Company, was the operator. Andrew
Carnegie, the iron prince; Robert Pitcairn,
of the ^Pennsylvania railroad
<505jpanj4--Gity- Attorney Moreland and
George McLain? ex-Superintendttit "of
Fire Alarm Telegraph, were messenger
boys in roundabouts.
"There was but one instrument, and
when it got out of order business had
to stop until it was repaired. There
were no special dispatches to newspapers
and no delivery of press messages.
Each paper scat a reporter
around to the telegraph office, who
copied what he wanted for his paper.
The amount of foreign news was limited
to 1,500 a night, and other reports
in proportion, the charge to each paper
being $9 a week. Regular telegraphic
tolls at that time were 40 cents
for ten words and 4 cents for each additional
word.
"One night when we called to copy
the report we found everything quiet
and Stager sitting at the table that held
the instrument reading. He told us
4-U awa -n-wiOsJ Via w a an?j> f J> of r? l nrV* f o t? i
LilCI >"Y VJ U1U UVi X-LKJ UUHO VUO.V Ul^UU, UJ
as that part of the instrument which
printed the characters on the paper
was broken. We so reported, and the
editor poured fresh oil on the gudgeon
of the scissors and made the best arrangement
they could to get along
without any telegraphic news.
"Between 11 o'clock and midnigh't
Stager came into the office of the Commercial
Journal with a bundle of manuscript
in his hand. He said that while
sitting by the instrument and listening
mechanically to the clicking it seemed
to him that he could make out what it
was saying by the sound. He had
written it out as it sounded to him.
Here it was. If we would take the
risk on its accuracy we were welcome
to use it, and found on comparing with
Eastern papers which came three days
later, that there were very few mistakes
in it. The "scoop" the Commercial
r ? 1 J.1 J 4.1.^ 7V.\%
OOUT7LU0 IJ1US UULSUIKZU. UVCi. LilC x/topatch.
Post, Gazette, and Union was the
talk of the town for several days.
' But the instrument was repaired
next day, Stager went back to the old
system, and the first message ever taken
by sound soon ceased to be talked
about" .
She Was Good To Him.
"But, after all, she used to be good
to us." It was a son who said this of
a mother whom some nervous malady
had overtaken and who was certainly
a very serious trial to her family.
The young man's life, too, was a
weary one. He was hard-worked
through the day, and it was depressing
to go home at night to fault-finding
and fretfulness.
Harder still was it to sleep, as this
son did, week after week and month
4-1- -4.1- \-T _ 1.^1/
auer moncn, wun an nis senses nan
awake that lie might hear his mother's
footsteps if they passed his door, and
hurry after her to keep her from wandering
out into the night alone, as her
melancholy half-madness often led her
to try to do.
Strangely enough, she had turned
against her own husband and her
daughters. Only this one son had any
power to persuade her for good. His
work by day and his vigil by night
wore on him sorely, but he never complained.
One day his sister asked him how he
could bear it and be always patient,
when she?mother though she was?
was in the house only as a presence of
gloom and foreboding and unrest And
the answer came:
"Bat, after all, she used to be good
to us."
And then the thoughts of all the
group went back to the years before
this nervous prostration came upon
her, when she had nursed them in illness'
and petted them in childhood?
when she had been 4,_;ood to them,"
one and all.
"I know," the bov said, thought
fully, "that I was a nervous, uncomfortable
child myself the lirst three
years of my life. Father said he
thought they'd never raise me, but
mother said: 'Yes, she would,' and
she tended me day and night for. three
years, till I began to grovfr strong like
the rest of you. 1 owe her those three
years, any Low, and she shall have
them."
And so he girded himself afresh for
the struggle. It will not last forever.
There are signs which the doctors can
recognize that the cloud is lifting somewhat,
and no doubt before long she
will, be her old self again. And then
will come her son's reward. He will
feel that he has paid a little of the debt '
he owed to the love that watched over
his weak babyhood.
To many "mothers, worn by long i
care, such years of melancholy and '
nervous prostration must eoinc. And
the sons and daughters who tlnd their 1
homes saddened by such a sorrow 1
should lovingly remember the days in 1
which they we're helpless, and mother 3
was "good to them.11?' an Francisco '
Call
Interest in politics increases in Germany.
There were 565,197 more vot3rs,
allowing for all increase in population,
who went to the poll in 1884 '
than in 1S81. ' Of this increase the So- ]
:ial Democratic party polled 248,029 J
rotes.
One of the greatest libraries in this
3ountry is that of Adolph Sutro, the ,
borer of the famous Sutro Tunnel. Sir. 1
Sutro has scoured Europe in search of
rarities, and has now stored in San ,
Francisco enough books to bring the
. i . 4 ?/i AAA
cities aionc up to iou,wu.
Young man, if you are ambitious ,
lon't try for a clerkship at Washing- j
ton. Take warning from the career of
the oldest Clerk in the Treasury De- j
partment Appointed in 1847 at a sal- (
iry of $1,200, he is now getting $1,400 (
?a rise of $200 in thirty-eight years. }
A Parisian experimenter has discovered
that man is more sensitive to the
effects of morphine than is any other
animal. A dog can take five times as J
much of the drug and a monkey fifty
times as much in proportion to their j
respective weights as a human being.
I
Brignoli's Appetite.
It has always been a very painful
thought to me that heaven-bcrn tenors
eat. Nothing is further from my idea
of a hero of Italian opera than eating.
Drinking is rather natural, although
one always associates the tenor with
champagne and delicate wines. But I
know that Cardinali eats. I have seen
him. He is not a poetic eater. I have
had my eye fixed on the Adam's apple
of Giannini's throat, but I believe it is
not good manners, while he has swallowed
a toothsome morsel of macaroni
It is dreadfully' destructive of Ernani,
Badames, and Faust to know that the
sweetness of their music is preserved at
the expense of all romantic ideal. Bri^noli
was the boy to eat, though. He
discounted the modern champagne
and oyster tenor. He belonged to the
old school of feeders and he fed like
other lions. The higher a tenor can
sing the more he can gat. It is the balance
of art.
Joe Polk used to give an amusing account
of Brignoli's suppers, which were
like several dinners of an ordinary
mortaL He used to frequent Moretti's
hm New York, a favorite Italian restaurant.
It was Moretti himself who stood
sadly on the shore and saw the great
tenor sail for England. "Au re voir,1'
the silver-voiced tenor cried, and waved
his fat hand to the restaurateur.
"Signor, $8,000!" cried Moretti, pitowil
fhii wAw^a urorrt ornKon
on both sides till they were out of hearing
of one another.
But Brignoli would go to Moretti's
after a performance.
"Signor, good evening. How do you
feel this evening?" said the waiter.
"How I feel? Ah, can you not see?
I am seeck; I am very seeck."
"What will you eat, signor?"
"Eat, can you not see I am seeck? I
am seeck? I am not welL I cannot
eat."
"We have some very nice oysters,
signor." <"
"Oysters? I have no appetite. I am
not well I am seeck. But I must eat.
My doctor say I must force myself to
eat. Bring me two dozen. I will try
them."
The oysters are brought and demolished.
"Signor, how do you feel now?,"
"What for you ask me how I feel? I
am not well. 1 cannot eat anything.
"We have some fine fish."
"Oh, I must eat My doctor sav I
must eat Bring me a pound and 1
will taste it"
The fish follows the oysters.
"Signor, how do you feel now?"
"Feel? I feel very seeck. I can eat
nothing." ..
"We hare some very nice chops."
"Chops? If I could only eat! Ah,
well, I must force myself to eat I
will try six or seven.""
The chops follow the fish.
"Signor, how do you feel now?"
"Oh, am so seeck?so seeck! I have
no appetite." r.
"There's some good macaroni."
"Ah, well, I suppose I must eat
Brins: in the macaroni I must force
myself to eat"
The macaroni follows the chops.
"Signor," says the waiter, "how do
you feel now?"
"Now? Ah! I am better. I am
mooch better. Brignoli is himself
again. Brin?r in your bill of fare.
Brignoli will dine."?San Francisco
Chronicle.
"Tim."
They said the train was an hoar behind
time, and that information made
us all feel put out and annoyed. Therefore,
when a bov of about 14, poorly
dressed and having a trampish look,
1 .y _ ? 1 . i.# 1_? r
came aiong me piauoriu iur
financial aid to get him down to R
on the train we were waiting for, it
was but natural that one and all replied:
"If you want to go to R take the
dirt road! You look as if you were
used to tramping!"
He had no saucy word in reply.
When he went and stood in the light of
the window, and I saw how he shivered
in the cold wind, and how worried and
anxious he seemed to be, I grew
ashamed of my gruff words. I saw two
or three others look him over as I had
done, and' I had no doabt that they felt
as I did. I ought to have walked up
to the boy and said:
"Here,'my lad, if you really want to
go down to R , I'm willing to help
you. Take this half-dollar. How
happens it that a lad of your age is
cold, ragged, hungry and away from *
home ana friends?"
But I didn't I edged towards him,
ashamed, and yet not quite ready to acknowledge
it to him, and all of a sud*
? a t i _ i.
den ne disappeared. 1 rcasonea icai
he had gone up the hill to the village,
and that his pretending to want to go
to R "was all a trick to beat honest
men. When you reason that way the
heart grows hard pretty fast, and you
feel a bit revengeful. We talked the
matter over?four or live of us?and
the conclusion was that the boy would
die on the gallows.
Well the train came along after a
while; and it was moving away, after a
brief stop, when a piercing shriek,
followed by shouts and calls, brought
us to a stop.
"Somebody's been run over!" called
a voice, and in a moment the coaches
were emptied.
Yes, somebody had been run over?
had a leg cut off above the knee by one
of the cruel wheels. Who was it?
How did it happen? It was our boy?
the lad who was to end his days on the
gallows. . He had crept under the
+/\ at-psl a nn ?>ia trnnts.
There lie was, having only a few minutes
to live?his face as white as the
snow-banks?his eyes roving from face
to face?his lips quivering as twenty
men bent down and spoke words of
sympathy.
"Who are you?" asked the conluctor.
"Tim!" .
"You shouldn't have tried it"
"But I wanted to get to R so
bad! I was up here to find work, but
nobody would have me, and yesterday
[ heard that mother was dead!"
"But anybody would have given
fou sixty cents to pay your fare."
"Oh, no they wouldn't I asked lots
and lots of men and they said I ought
to be in jail. I?I?wanted !"
There we were?the half dozen of us
who had repelled him with insult?
ivrung nis young neart stiu more?sent
turn to this horrible death under the
svheels! We dared not look into his
face?we even shunned each otherIf
it conld only come to pass again?
i heaven would but send him back to
jarth and let him stand before us as he
lid that winter's night?but it is too
ate!?Detroit Free Press.
Curio parlors is the latest name for
lime museums in the West, where at?mpts
at refinements of language
)ften seem to be in inverse proportion
;o popular taste and culture* <
GLKANINGS.
Raw oysters are highly recommended
as a cure for hoarseness.
France is now getting large supplies
of canned frogs from this country.
Before the war only the sweet potato
tras grown In the Southern States.
Osman Digma is noted for his dash
and impudence. His mother was
French.
Of the young ladies in the Normal
College in New York 25 per cent are
Jewesses. a - ~
Mr. George H. Pendleton's grandfather
was Hamilton's second in the fatal
duei with Aaron Bun*.
. Tennyson's salary as, a poet is but
$480 a year, but he has' ?he traditional
ttm of wine and the prestige.
Lindsey Muse, the veteran doorkeeper
for the Secretary of the Navy, has
served in that-capacity" for'fifty-seven
years.
Among the 1,200 laws regulating the
French pres3 is one,centuriesold,which
threatens the proof-reader with death
for even one blunder.
An entomologist has reported having
found 724 snecies of noxious insects in
the trees, "shrubs smtTplants.of the New
York parks last year. "
John L. Sullivan's younger brother
is some day - expected to knock out
Jumbo, and possibly may aspire to a
round with John himself.
The latest puzzle now vexing some
persons is how to place eight checkers
? 1 J m
uu a. uuiitu io wiat uv two wui ue eim- er
on a~straightOT diagonal line in
either direction.
The highest chimney in the world is
said to be the circular one built of
brick and stone at Port Dundas, near
Glasgow, Scotland. It towers to a
height of 456 feet .above ground.
. Caterpillars are eaten in Australia
and at the Cape at the risk of woful
pains in the stomach, and even spiders,
abhorred by every other race, axe- eaten
by the.iiotten.tQts.and New Caledonians,
with the same liability.
The wife, and daughters of Bob Ingersoll
dress plainly and coinb their
hair naturally, and are described as
looking for all the worid as if they had
stepped down and out from some of the
canvases in a gallery of beautyA
curiosity in the form of an orange
weighing twenty-four ounces is exciting
no little interest in Levy, Fla.,
where it was grown. A resident near
Brooksville boasts* of having gathered
from his grove 800 oranges which averaged
in weight one pound each. The
grove is a comparatively young one
this being its first crop.
A company, cultivating 2,800 acres
of vineyards in the foothills of Sacramento
county, CaL, has abandoned the
use of irrigation for wine grapes. The
company has plenty of water at all
limes, but experience has convinced
the management that the best wine is
made from grapes not irrigated, and
that the vines thrive without irrigation.
It is related of the famous Buenos
Ayres beauty, Aimee Blanche, that she
once loved a snake-charmer, who, as a
proof of his affection, taught her to
Handle ana at last to instruct a largo
cobra. He insisted upon drawing the
reptile's fangs, but she would not con- sent.
She taught the snake to strike
at s red handkerchief. Obtaining
proof of her lover's infidelity she spread
a red silk handkerchief on his face
while he was asleep, and the cobra
struck him repeatedly. He died without
speaking.
Hattie Ketchum, the five-year-old
daughter of a farmer and tobaccogrower
near Weedsport, N. Y., is said
to be hopelessly addicted to the use of
tobacco, and has been since she was
two years old. When between one and
two years of age the girl was afflicted
with colic, and at the suggestion of a
friend tobacco smoke was blown into
milk and given her. This remedy
proved effective, but created an uncontrollable
desire -for tobacco, and by
various subterfuges the child has ever
f/\ rafiofif AFOT7_
OULL^C XUUUU CV OAHLOXJ JUVfc V/Artf"
ing for the weed.
Most of Mr. Arthur's Cabinet officers
were good smokers. MrT Frelinghuy- y
sen did not use tobacco, though the
Assistant Secretary of State, Mr. Davis,
liked good cigars, and plenty of
thezo- Tobacco was' the only thing that 7
ever made Secretary Chandler turn
pale. But Gen. Gresham was a great
smoker. He smoked on the public
streets, at his work, and wherever he
could Secretary Teller liked a cigar
that would last a long time and was
not very strong. Secretary Lincoln
smokes a good many pretty stiff cigars
every day, and Attorney-General Brewster
liked one with body to it.
Some years ago a story was current
of a woman who applied at & London
hospital for treatment of a nervous affection.
After listening to a recital of " . ~
ner symptoms, tne aoctor maae ner
shot her lips upon a clinical thermometer.
Upon removing it, the patient
exclaimed: "Why,I declare it has done
me good already.'' The doctor humored
her delusion, and refrained from
any other treatment than a few more
applications of the magical glass tube.
She was soon cured. A parallel case
is now cited by the Philadelphia Medi- ~"?
cat Hews, an hysterical patient haying
been cured by magnetism. The magnet
was of wood, just capped with metal,
so as to seem cold to the touch.
"Pot holes" have recently been discovered
on Great Island, Me., and
some persons have considered them of
mysterious origin. A correspondent " >
WflU axis uncu aixu airnxwu. cAuavabiuus ff v
along the Columbia River, in Oregooy^^^
says they are due to the swift current
in the overflow of the rivers, which
forms eddies and small whirlpools,
causing a motion in a loose bowlder,
which acts as a drill, and in course of
time bores a smooth, round 44pot" in
the rock, in which it lies, the loose
stones becoming round in the process. x- Any
number of the round stones may
be found in the holes and lying among
loose stones on the beach.
The Chinese know the value of advertising.
Here is the "ad" of an ink
manufacturer of Canton, translated:
"At the shoo Tae-sin? Cnrosoerous in
the extreme)?verygoodlnk;'fine! fine' '
Ancient shop, great-grandfather, grandfather,
father, and self make this ink;
fine and hard, very hard; picked with
care, selected with attention- This ink
is heavy; so is gold. The eye of the
dragon glitters and dazzles, so does
this ink. No one makes like it. Others
who make ink make it for the sake of
accumulating base coin and cheat,
while I make it only for a name. Plenty
of A-kwantsaes (gentlemen) know
my ink?my family never cheated?
they have always borne a good name.
I make ink for the 'Son of Heaven' and
all the Mandarins in the Empire. As
the roar of the tiger extends to every
place, so does the fame of the 'dragon's
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