The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, April 21, 1886, Image 6
A RAINY DAY.
Now just take a peep at the window and
Oh, dear me!
How cloudy and dark, and how dreary and
gray!
What a day!
The rain seems to frown
As it comes pouring down;
And the wet, muddy earth looks as cross as
the sky.
So do I.
How could I expect to be happy and gay,
Such a day?
When things are as dull and as still as a
mouse
In t he house.
Oh dpar. if T knew
Of something to do!
The world looks as if it were having a cry.
; So am I.
If only the sunshine would smile out again;
And the rain,
And the dark, gloomy clouds, and the mist,
and the gray
Go away?
"Why, then you would see
How merry I'd be!
XI only the sun and the weather would ti>
So would I.
?Sydney Dayre, in St. Nicholas
THE~SQUIRE'S WIFE.
Squine Clover listened in silence, but j
with a quiet smile upon his lips, to his I
old cronies' yar.is of their various haps 1
and mishaps in their younger days in !
trying to get pos e-sion of the girl of j
their choice.
But after they had all spoken he j
knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and.
proceeding to refill it, said:
"Ay, neighbors, ye've told some pretty
queer stories, but I'll warrant I can tell !
one that'll match 'em. I rather gu:ss j
'twould astonish those acquainted with
my quiet, modest-looking wife vondsr j
to know how it was that I thought of
taking her for better or worse."
"Now, David," expostulated Mrs.
Clover, both reddening and smiling as
she met her husband's quizzical look.
"Why will you tell that silly story? If
you hadn't cared to take me, you could |
i. i l i) " i
iiav-c icl ijic uiuiiu.
"Ah, sure it is easy talkinV said the I
squire, shaking his head with demure |
gravity. "But when a girl?an' especi- I
ally sich a pretty one?flies directly into '
a fellow's arms, what else can he do?-i
That's whit I'd like to know!"
, Laughingly declaring that "she'd stay j
- to listen to no such nonsense," Mrs.
Clover gathered up her work and rau
away; and her husband, after shaking
his jolly sides with silent laughter, until
some of tho^e present were fearful
that apoplexy would be the result, gradually
recovered himself and proceeded to
satisfy the curiosity he had aroused
thus:
' 'I was a poor bov, as perhaps you ;
snow, wun notniu Dut a pair 01 siouc :
arms and broad shoulders to push my j
way in the world with; but I had a brave
heart, an' wasn't afraid of work, an' on
the whole, ain't no ways dissatisfied with
what my hands have brought me.
"The summer I was twenty-one I went
to work for Sue's father.
"Mr. Bean was a well-to-do farmer,
and Sue his only child. He wasn't anyways
stuck up about his property, but
Jie set a great store by Sue; an', as he
knew that some day she'd have as good
a farm as there was in the county, nat'rally
expected that the man who got her
would be able to give as much as he took.
"So I had no more idea of ever bein'
Sue's husband than I had of flyin', and
yet the very first time I set eyes on her I ,
knew, as well as I know now, that no I
other woman would ever be to me what j
ahe was.
"I remember the day just aa well as if
twas yesterday. I had seen ilr. Bean I
down to the village the night afore, an' i
'twas agreed that I come the next afternoon.
"When I come to "the house?an' a nice
looking house it was, with a broad piazza
each side on't?I was dubious as to
whether I had better go in the side or \
back door. I finally concluded to take j
the latter.
1 "As I passed by the kitchen window I
heard a voice singin', as sweet and clear
as a robin's, an' on lookin' in I saw Sue
itandin' by a tabic, kneadin' bread, an' I
never see a prettier picter afore or sence.
"Ah, lads, ye may talk about girls at
the pianny, but they ain't half so much
to my mind as the one I saw at the
moldin'-b'ard: the flour she was siftin'
not any whiter than her round, uncovered
arms, and with as bright a bloom on
cheek an' lip as the roses that were clambering
over the porch.
"Wal, arter statin'at her pretty face !
as long as I dared to?quite unbeknown
to her?I knocked at the door.
" 'Come in!' s;ing out a voice that set
piy heait to beatin' like a sledge hammer.
"Liftin' the latch I walked in.
" 'Is Mr. Bean to home?' I stammered, !
colorin' as red as a beet, as Sue turned her ;
black eyes on me.
" 'Yea; father's somewhere about, j
TJ11 Ka in in q mini to Wnn'f vaii fftlro '
Uv 41 VV AAA AAA U AAJLA AA V* k v? IT VU V J V V* I.M?v ,
a seat?'
"In goiti' across the room, I stumbled
over a pail, which so flustered me that I
sat down in a chair where a large gr.iy
cat lay curled up asleep, and who, spittin'
an1 clawin' at me, sprang out of the
window
"I could see by the dimples that cams i
round Sue's pretty mouth that she had
hard work to do to keep from laughing
outright. But she didn't 'pear to take any
notice on it, and pretty soon old Mr. ;
Bean came in, an' then I began to feel
more comfortable.
"They were real nice sort of folks. J
who treated their help like their !
own family, an' I soon began to feel at :
home.
"All but with Sue; I couldn't seem to say
two or three words to her without blun
tie in', an' was always doin' some awk- |
ward thing or other, ' whenever I went
nigh her.
"I don't think I'd have felt quite so
ihy if I had known her opinion of me; '
for I wasn't a bad lookin' chap in my i
young days?broad shouldered an' |
8tra:ght as an arrer?with big hazel eyes
au' brown hair, as full of crinkles as
curled maple.
"I hadn't been to Mr. Bean's loug before
I found out th t Sue had a beau. I
His name was Silas Peterkin, son of the j
r? vilUffft
uv n u mx. buu i ain^v?
"He was a white-faccd, slim-waisted
feller, with little hands an' feet, that I'd
been ashamed to own, but which he
seemed to feel mighty proud of.
"Ho used to come to see Sue about
twice a week, dressed in his store clothes,
and lo>kin' as if he'd just stepped out of
a band-box.
"Sue never seemed to act as though
she had any partic'lar likin' for Silas;but
'twas easy seen that the old folks set
great store by him au' was mighty pleasant
at the idea of his steppin' up to their
darte .
"As for me, I never see him sittia' by
/
Sue, an' smirkin' up into her face, but
what I felt as if I wanted to fling him,
head first, out of the winder.
"So matters went on until September,
when Mr. Bean gave a huskin' party.
"We young feelers set to work with a
will, an' afore sunset the corn was all
husked and piled, away, and the barn
floor swept clean for the dance an1 supper
we was to have in the erenin'.
"Pretty soon the women folks began
to flock in, all dre.sed in their best, an*
lookin' as fresh an' bloomin' as a flower
garden after a shower.
"But Sue was the prettiest of the hull
lot, dressed in her white frock, with the
pink ribbon tied around her waist.
"Sila^ Pcterkin, he was there,of course,
an' as soon as I see him I went to the
house.
"As I was standin' on the back steps,
out of sorts with myself an' everybody
T hoard a voice sav:
'* 'David!'
"An1 turning round, I saw Sue, lookin'
as smilin' as a basket of chips.
" 'Ain't you comin' down to the bam?'
says she.
"'I ruther guess I ain't wanted,' saya
"Oh, yes, you are,' says she; 'I want
vou.1
"She looked and spoke so sweet that
I was e'enamost a mind to go. But
' .1 * "t l - lli- 1 1
jest tnen I neara wias caum ner; ?u
mutterin' somethin' about havin' some
tools to grind, I walked off.
i'I was most sorry for't, though, when
X caught a sight of her face as she walked
away with Silas, an' saw how sober it
was.
"Sittin' down on the back steps, I
went to work; the raspin' of my file
sounJin' a deal pleasanter to my ears
than the fiddlin' that floated up from the
barn down in the medder.
"It had been uncommonly hot for a
number of days past, but this had been
the hottest one of all. Not a leaf moved,
an' there was somethin' unnat'ral in the
stillness of everythin' around. There was
a strange look to the sky, too; it was
streaked overhead with purple an' vi'let,
1 ' * ? l _ xl ?
witn a sore 01 yenowgiare in uie west-.
"Old Bose, the dog, who had been
wanderin' restlessly about for the last
hour, now set up a mournful howl.
"When I went to fodder the cattle I
found the poor critters huddled together
in one corner of the yard,utterin' low bellows
of terror and dismay, their instincts
warning them, as all these signs did me,
of the tornado that was approachin'.
"Goin' back to the house I shut every
door and winder.
"Then thinkin' of the folks in the barn
?that was the most in danger of anythin'?I
ran down through the garden toward
the medder where it stood.
"But I had hardly gone two rods before
it came?liftin' me off my feet an'
hurlin' me against an opposite fence 1
"I picked myself up an' hurried on. As
I come in sight of the barn?or, ruther,
where it once stood?the air was filled
% a* l | i
with, dust an' nym' Bningies an umuer j
"As soon as it cleared away a bit,I saw
Sue standin' in a most perilous position
right in the midst of it!
"I shouted to her to come away; and
jest then the wind took her up as if she
was but a feather, bearin' her directly toward
me. * I opened my arms, an' she
came right into them.
"As she did so, one of the flyin' sticks
hit one of my arms, makin' it useless;
but holdin' her tight with the other, I
took her to some low bushes in a little
hollow between two hills.
' The tornado was as short as it was
violent, and though a good deal of dam"frroo
Anna In/^lrilv Tin OTlft WftS hllrt
ntw uvuv^ j ^ .. ??
much.
"Sue escaped without a scratch. My
arm was broken; but considerin' who
nursed me, y;)u needn't waste any pity
on me for that I
"I heard arterward, as soon as the
alarm was given, Silas Peterkin tock to
his heels, an' never stopped until he
reached his father's door.
"Whether he heard that the old man
vowed that he'd set Bose on him if he
ever came nigh Sue ag'n, I can't say, but
hi$ visits ceased from that day.
"I sent him an invite to my weddin',
which took place a few months arter:,
but as he didn't come I'm sort of mis+Viof
was Afrnid of another
11U001U& WUWV AAV ? WW ?
tornado."?Now York Neica.
- The Shah's Harem.
A letter from Teheran, Persia, to the
London Globe says: Most of the ladies
?f the harem have small separate establishments,
but all live in the palace, the
doors and windows of their rooms looking
out into a large quadrangular court.
Some wives occupy suites of apartments,
others have only one or two rooms. The
shah's harem, like other well-conducted
establishments of the kind, is shrouded
in mystery, and the European ladies who
haveoccasionally visited it cannot tell us
much. These ladies visit the harem on
certain holidays, when every inmate is
gay and happy, and they therefore see
only the bright side of harem life. There
is, of course, a dark side; but of this
nothing certain is known to the outer
world, and the members of the harem are
discreet, and do not blab. The shah is
said to be a kind master, and his wives
speak of him with affection and respect.
Extraordinary precautions are always
taken to prevent males from getting inside,
and the European ladies who visit
the harem are,-" on entering, examined
by eunuchs, who also inscribe the names
of the visitors and those of their attend ants.
In spite of the great precautions
tnken, it has once or twice happened that
a man has been smuggled into the harem,
and I lately heard a story of a laborer
having been found on the roof of the
women's apartments. He was advised
to affect madness?which was hardly necessary,
as fear had already made him
idiotic?and it was explained that he had
got into the harem through an underj
? 1 _,i
ground WUUT uniltll, 1U nmui iiti iitivx
been working. It speaks well for the
shah that the man was let off scot-free;
in former times he and several women
would have been executed there and
then. It orcasionally happens that the
shah ccrnes into the women's apartments
when European ladies are there on a
visit. He then asks who the visitors are,
what their age is, and makes some observations
on their looks. He is not very
complimentary; and some time ago a lady
was horrified at being tola by his majesty
that ghft was old. ugly and lean. The
shah also occasionally asks ether indiscreet
questions, and makes some cynical
remarks. Every wife lias a separate
ysaily allowance varying from ?200 to
?2,000, and cften receives presents exceeding
her allowance in value.
Taught Wisdom.
There's a man in our town
Who was not wondrous wise;
For though he had fresh goods to sell
He would not advertise.
But when he saw his rival sell
More goods than e'er could he,
nlwiit: his (rrnr&rv
As maid as mad coulS be.
He soon found out the other man
Had "ads" in sheets betimes;
He took the hint and did likewise,
And now piles in the dimes.
RHEUMATISM. ;
THE MANY FORMS OF THIS COM- '
MOX AFFECTION.
(
The Cause of Rheumatic Fever? <
Symptoms of Inflammatory Rheu- {
matism?Mode of Treatment? i
Chronie Rheumatism. i
I
The manner in winch a chilling of the s
Rirface of the body acts to set up an ^
attack of rheumatic fever is still un- j
known. It is very certain that an aciil
?lactic, the same that is found in sour j
milk?is the great mischief-maker in
this disease. This acid is always formed
when muscles are exercised, and is decomposed
and sent ont of the body by j
way of the lungs and skin. A chilling ^
of the body seems to prevent this get- .
ting rid of a poisonous substance, and ^
the various inflammatory troubles are
ont im Kv if After tlior }iava nnoft hfl
otl, wj, wj AV. ? ?' * j c|
gun it appears that they may continue c
for some time in spite of the acid being
properly disposed of afterward. This
acid has been given as a medicine in
some other affections, and a number of .
cases are recorded in which rheumatic ^
joint troubles . have followed with cer- n
tainty as soon as a certain (not very
large) quantity had been given. Another
reason for the brineful effects of a chill n
occurring after excessive exertion is that
the joints are then in a weakened condition
from overuse, therefore more dis- ^
posed to become diseased than any other
pait of the body, except the heart, which ~
is in the same exhausted condition, has ?
about the same kind of structure as the a
joint*:, and is, consequently, at that time, a
very liable to suffer in the sanne way.
The symptoms distinctive of "iuflam- e
matory rheumatism" are usually pre- j
ceded for one, two or three days by in- c
definite feelings of being "out of sorts," j(
such as weariness, dragging pains in the ^
limbs, loss of appetite, etc. Then sets
in a moderate fever, beginning with a c
sharp chill or by chilly feelings, head- jj
ache, thirst, the pulse and breathing c
being quickened to correspond with the j(
joints, almost always "one of the larger ^
one3, becomes painful. If it is one near ^
the surface, it is noticed to be swollen ^
and more or less reddened. In a few ^
hours, or a day or two, another joint is
attacked in the same way, the one first Sl
affected becoming better, as a rule, but
not always. The more joints there are
affected at once the higher the fever.
Thus, nearly every joint in tne body may j.'
become affected; frequently all the f.
larger ones, hip, knee, shoulder and j jj
elbow, are inflamed together. The pain j
is intense and made worse by the slight- ^
est movement. A heavy step upon the 0
floor causes the vibrations to be transmitted
to the semtive surfaces, and ; r]
causes untold agony. Sometimes the pain 1 0
is far greater than the amount of evident a]
inflammation would seem to account for, ^
and it is frequently worse toward even- ^
ing. The skin is bathed in perspiration, j jr
and does not seem hot to the touch, even | r(
when the fever runs very high. The j n
perspiration is sour in odor and in chemi- j u
cal reaction. The tongue is moist, usually : n
covered witn a wnitisn iur; tne Doweis j,
constipated, and the secretion of the kid- f(
nejs small in amount and intensely acid. ^
The pain causes loss of sleep, but the
mind is generally clear. In very serious n
cases the tever rises very high and delir- rj
ium is present. Sleeplessness, pains in a
the joints and the profuse sweating cause ^
all the discomforts of which the sufferer ^
complains in most cases. ^
This state of things, unless interrupted n
by proper treatment, goes on for three to 0
six weeks. New joints are attacked, or n
the pains and inflammation return to
those they had abandoned. The invalid ^
loses flesh and strength, but recover* in f(
a large majority of cases. Sometimes q
one joint does not regain its natural p
n/vn/lUmn Knf romm'no mnrn op Ipqq
WUUitlV/Uj uuv ivmuiutf mvi w v* ?vwv yv
swollen and painful. In a few cases ?
two or three joints are affected and these j?
not very severely. In these, the fever J
never runs high and the disease may ter- ^
minate in from eight to fourteen days.
In others, the fever rises to 10(j to 108
degrees Fahrenheit, the pulse becomes
enormously quickened, delirium followed .
by unconsciousness and death occurs. For- 1
tunntely such cases are rare. In drunk- ?
ards and those whose constitutions have
been broken by previous disease, a wild 81
delirium like delirium tremens may set ?
in, especially toward evening, when the ,
fever is highest. In these the symptoms q
are apt to become aggravated and go on
to a fatal termination in the second or
third week of the disease.
Although rheumatism of this variety
will undoubtedly get well if not treated
I with any drugs, is in fact a self-limited J
disease, still we have it in our power to .
lessen the danger of heart complications, (
give ease to the sufferer, and cut the dis- ^
ease short in a large proportion of in- ^
stances, provided more than one joint is
affected. P
The alkalies, bicarbonate of soda, pot- p
ash of lithium, should be given in large fl
doses (20, 30 to^ 60 grains)
every few hours* until the .j
acid in the blood and tissues become
neutralized. This is known by the se- *
cretion of the kidnevs becoming: alkaline. ,
The alkali may be given with lemon "
juice, with which it forms an effervescing
drink that is not very disagreeable. ^
Whatever else is done, the alkalies should ,
not be neglected. Salicylic acid, or
salicylate of soda, seems to act a* a specific
in controlling the inflammation in a
large proportion of cases. One of these
should bs given along with the alkalies, f11
for it does not insure safety from heart ^
complications, until about 1*20 grains *?,
have been given. This amount should ^
i i-i ?x r T fa
DC til Ken w lium iweoiy-iuur nuurs uu
insure the best results. Then it should P
be discontinued for a day or two, then ^
resumed in smaller doses, and kept up el
for one or two weeks in this intermit- 0
tent manner. As either of these drugs
depresses the heart's action, some form t?
of alcoholic stimulant, wine or whisky, 0
should be taken with each dose. If P
these do not control the pain, opium or "
morphine should be given in sufficient v
quantity. The affected joint or joints P
should be wrapped in cotton dipped in ?,
an alkaline solution and kept at rest by ?
being put into splints. Hot applications, "
when well burne, sometimes give a great
deal of comfort. It is claimed by many
that blisters and ice bags over the affected
joints do good. These; are very
distressing to most sufferers, and thero is "
still a great deal of doubt as to their aoing
any good. There is a foul-odored
drug extracted from brine in which
mackerel have been preserved, called o
trimethylamine, which has brought about m
some remarkable cures. The testimony e
as to its efficacy is very conflicting. It F
belongs to the alkaline group of reme- n
dies, and is, probably, as efficient as it
some of those mentioned. Aconite and ei
veratrum have some admirers as remedies d
to control rheumatism, but they are t<
dangerous and not trustworthy. With F
the alkalies, the salicylates, opium and t<
quinine when the fever become exces- b
sive, inflammatory rheumatism is usually o
a very manageable affection. S
The same cannot, unfortunately, be c!
laid of chronic rheumatism, which in c:
reality
has no business to be called rheumatism
at-all, except in a small propor*
tion of cases, where it follows an attach
:>f rheumatic fever as a consequence. Id
these instances it is no more to be considered
as rheumatic than consumption
the lungs following measles is to bi
jonsiderea measles. Like any other or*an
that has once suffered from disease,
i joint that has been inflamed from rheunatic
fever becomes a point of least resistance
and ready to become inflamed
igain on slight provocation. Hence a
liight injury, blow, sprain or the like,
iffectirig such a joint, sets up an ordirnry
inflammation, which would not
>ccur had the joint always been healthy.
Prolonged exposure to cold and damp,
>s by sleeping in cellars and basements,
>r employment in workshops that arc
J -J iln ofnn/'linft
;uiu ilUU UUUiiU. lllUUUU^ nuilt Dkuuumg
n water or in swamps in the fall or winer,
frequently occasion the disease. II
3 ge nerally observed in advanced lifehe
reverse of what is noticed in inflamaat
ory rheumatism. It is purely a local
lisease, not caused or kept up by any
hange in the blood.
The symptoms of chronic rheumatism
re these: One or more joints are almost
onstantly tender; sharp pains are felt
a them from time to time; changes in
he weather and unusual pressure or
lovement aggravate these pains, which
hoot in different directions from the
ffected joints. Cold and wet weather
lake the sufferings greater, while heat,
specially dry heat, gives relief. Stiffess
and grating sounds are noticed when
he joints are moved, ana occasionally
orae swelling and increased heat in the
arts are observed. There is no fever,
r if any be noted, it is very mild. As
rule the disease drags on for months
nd years. Complete recovery is the exeption,
although some cases do get well,
specially if their age is not advanced.
Prevention is, therefore, better than
ure. Internal remedies given with the
lea of "clearing the rheumatism out of
tie blood" arc useless. To improve the
ppetite and general condition is, of
oursc, very desirable. Prolonged bathig
the affected part in water as hot as
an be borne, painting the parts with
)dine, stimulating liniments, general
rarm baths; massage or rubbing and
neading the affected limbs; all these
ave been found useful. If the joints
ecome useless, "soldered together" so
lat no movements are possible, certain
lrgical operations may make the condion
more tolerable.
Mucular rheumatism is a term that is
pplied to any painful affection located
1 the muscles. It is probable that very
}\v, if any of these, are truly rheumatic
1 their nature. Some of them are real
iflammations of the muscular structure,
rhile others are of nervous origin. Some
f these affections have been traced to
leir true cause and are no longer called
leumatic. The pains of lead poisoning,
f scurvy, of locomotor ataxy and of
icoholic poisoning, all formerly called
luscular rheumatism, are now placed
'here they belong and managed accordlgfy.
Some of these affections are the
isult of injury. Thus lumbago, ordiarily
supposed to be rheumatic, is
sually earned by some awkward movetent
that strains or breaks some muscuir
or tendinous fibers, leaving after it
)r a Jong time more or less pain and
jnderness on movemeuts being at;mpted.
Aside from the pain there is
o distinctive symptom of muscular
aeumatism. There is usually no fever
nd no serious consequences follow in its
ain. There may be painful spasms of
le muscles, particularly of those which
old the head in position, causing "wry
eck," but this is undoubtedly of nervous
rigin and has no connection with rheulatism.
The treatment is by warm baths, by
eeping the patient warm and perspiring
)r a day or two; by effective doses of
uinine, if there is a suspicion of malarial .
oisoning; and by rubbing the affected
arts with stimulating liniments. Faradic
lectricity, by which a strong impression
( made upon the nerves of the skin,
ften removes the pain at once.?St.
mis Globe-Democrat.
The Shall of Persia.
Probably the most restless man on the i
ice of the earth is Nussir-u-deen, shah
f Persia, asylum of the universe, and t
ing of kings. These two titles, as i
?riously given to the absolute monarch 1
f Persia as we apply the more modest
jrm majesty, are not inappropriate, for
rom the royal fiat there is no appeal,
warthier than most of his subjects, of I
liddle height, very short-sighted, he is I
2ldom without his spectacles, ana untu i
e opens his mouth he gives rather the j
lea of the mild Hindu. But when he
peaks in his loud and imperious way, all <
lea of mildness disappears. The loud ]
me, however, is more the effect of con- i
taut habits of command; and the cus)m
of addressing his majesty in a low
me, that is observed on all occasions,
robably tends to make it more noticea- l
le by contrast. Although the king of
ersia has a larger collection of jewels j
lan any other monarch?save on state <
ccasions, such as the public salaam ot ;
le new year, he very seldom displays 1
ny of them. He is strikingly plain in
is dress. The full skirted frock coat of j
lack cloth, or, at times, of finest cash
lere shawl, which in winter time is trim- ]
ied and lined with priceless fur, is his 1
sualwear: but the colors are generally
ark.?London World.
]
A Carnage Drawn by Sheep. i
Almost every American in Paris who
as ridden out toward the Bois has seen 1
le old man in the little carriage drawn 1
5 sheep pottering along in the Avenue
u Bois de Bologne. These sheep are ^
vo fine fat South Downs, but the occu- J
ant is a cripple named Dr. De Reroy. ]
fft 1ms been bv turns a soldier, a trav
I
ler, a politician, a journalist and a man 5
f letters. A nephew of the Abbe Lam- J
lenais, he was for a while private secre- '
iry of LamartinC, also an intimate friend J
f the Marquis of Hertford, at whose ^
lace in the Bois he frequently met 1
rince Napoleon. During the war he 1
olunteered to carry important dis- '
atch'js out of Paris for the government 1
f the Defense Nationale. He started ^
lone in a baioon, which was caught in a
urricane, carried into Switzerland, and 1
ame down in the midst of the Mer de ?
lace glaeier, where his legs were sc
ost bitten that they had to ba ampu- J
ited. Beside his legs, he lost his for- *
me by the war. *
_ 3
Fitty Cents for a Share. j
The custom of having a barber call at
ne's house has become quite the fashion ^
rithia the last lew years, it is ratnei c
xpensive, but rich men can stand it. j.
'ifty cents is the average fee delanded.
Some men have fitted up specil
barbers' rooms at their homes. Oth
IB IlilYU UU3J ta<\uo JLUi iuc aLiA/iiiiuv
ation of their barbers at their down- c
)wn places of business. It used to be t
'erdinand "Ward's regular afternoon cus- *
)m to sumin >n his barber as soon a* a
usiness wn over; he was a sort of pi- F
neer in thi>; line down in Wall street, c
row there are dozens of speculators and
lerks who fo'iow out his aristocratic F
xamp'e.?New York Timesi t
BUDGET OF FUN.
i
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
Had Been Interviewed?A Big Dog
?How he Could Take Revenge
?An Errand of Charity?
The Lawyer's Friend.
"Why, good gracious, Daringer!" You
look as if you had been shot through a
grain elevator."
"I was out in the country, Bromley,
arranging for summer boarding."
"Well, but what happened to you?"
"I?I?was interviewed."
"Interviewed! By a reporter?"
JNO.
"A slugger, then?"
"No. By Farmer Watson's bull."?
Philadelphia Call.
A Big Dog.
The minds of many people are not
fitted for struggles in mathematics.
When it came to fractions, Mike, for example,
was at sea with no hope of ever
getting ashore.
"What are you going to do with that
dog, Mike?"
''Sure an' I want to sell him. sor."
"Ho,w much do you ask for him?"
"Well, bein' as it's you, sor, I'll sell
him to you chape, and a better dog niver
walked in shoe-leather. You can have
him for two dollars, sor."
"What breed is he?"
"Well, sor, he's?he's?he's half terrier
and half Newfoundland, an'?an' half
mastiff, sor."
"Ah! Well, this is the first time I
ever knew of a dog having three
halves."
"Arrah, an' that's a big dog, so he is.
He'd make a dozen halves of the little
felly goin' along beyant ye there."
How He Could Take Rovense.
"Life," said the cynic, "life is not
worth the living."
"No?" said the damsel at his side.
"Why?"
"Life is a bore. Human nature is so
A ? ? 2nn!??f] *An1/\iin itt oil
fcUIIlG, llisipiu, nun/uiuuo, iu an
the vicious classes. Society in the accepted
sense does not live, my dear Miss
Jones. It passes the time."
"And has lots of fun sometimes."
"Never. It believes it has fun; but
it's very sorry, stupid, dull fun. I am a
cynic. People bore me to death. Of
course there are exceptions, such as you
?but?others. They talk Jind talk and
talk, and I?I sit and listen, and think
what empty, brainless thingj men and
women are. They weary me."
"Well, why don't you take your revenge?"
"How?"
"Talk back to them."
Ar?rJ the rvnin crrinnfid ft sinklv err in
"""" V?o ? J o
and dropped the subject.?San Francisco
Chronicle.
. An Errand of Charity.
"Uncle Stead" ia what they called a
shrewd old gentleman who used to live in
"VVinthrop, a little way out of the village,
up the side of the pond, near Readfield.
One of his fellow-citizens was a man
named Lovcjoy. Uncle Stead met Lovejoy
in the village one day, and he said to
him: "Lovejoy, there's a poor woman
lives out on the edge of the town that
needs some provisions. I'm willing to
supply her, but I've sold my horse and
have no means of getting the stuff to her. I
Now, I'll buy her a barrel of flour and a !
ham and some other supplies if you'll
carry them out to her with your tcim." ,
Lovejoy said certainly, he'd be very glad
to do it. Accordingly, Uncle Stead
bought a barrel of flour, a ham, a bucket i
of sugar, etc., and telling Lovejoy where
the woman lived, sent him off on the errand
of charity with the good things in
ills pung.
Lovejov easily found the house where
the woman lived. Ho unloaded the
goods,puffing like a grampus as he rolled j
the barrel of flour in, and said to the j
woman: "Mr. Steadman sent you the pro- |
visions. He's a mighty kind-hearted j
man to send you all these things."
"Well, I don't know why he shouldn't
>en 1 them to me!" exclaimed the woman
in surprised accents. "He's my husband."?Lewinton
(Me.) Journal.
The Lawyer's Friend.
One of the brighte. t lights of the Austin
bar was standing on the corner of
hhp nvpanp snrrnnnrtfld hv a crroun of
idmiring friends, when a man with a
peculiar stride and close-cropped hair
walked up to the lawyer, and, taking one
of his hauds in both of his, shook it as if
he was going to wrench it from his body,
3aying:
"It's ten years since I saw you, but I
knew you as soon as I laid eyes on you."
The lawyer was embarrassed, but the
rough-looking stranger helped him out.
"You did mc a kinduess once, Jedge,
and cf I ever forgit it may my right arm
clove to the roof of my mouth. Don't
jrou remeincer when you practiced law
ten years ago, up ia Dawson County?
You did me a kindness I never shall for
get,"
The friends of the lawyer cast admiring
glances at him, and one of them said
bo the other that he, the lawyer, always
had a good heart.
"Yes," continued the stranger, still
holding on to the lawyer's hand. "I had
jhot a man in self-defence and the sheriff
was going to lock me up when you nobly
volunteered to go my bond. And you
didn't know me, either."
The lawyer said he thought he recollected
the circumstance, while the ad
miring friends said: "Justlike liim. He
is always goin a'jout doing good."
"You offer d to go my bond, but the
said he w mid be blessed if any
jar:k-leggjd shyster could shove a strawaond
off on him. and if you remember,
iudge.hc refused to approve the bond,and !
[ \\ a* locked up,but I was always grateful j
o you just the same. You tried to help
ne to swindle justice according 10 law. i
>roke jail that night, and crippled several
people getting away, but, thanks to you,
' got away."
"Where have you been since?" asked
he lawyer, seeking to change the conversion.
"I am just out of the Kansas peniteniary.
I would never got in thar if you
lad been about. A feller refused to drink
vith rae and I had to shoot him. Let's
tep across and have something," and
mining his arm through that of his legal
iiend tliey marched across the street,the
udge keeping step like a soldier, while
lie irienas on me siuewnui. ?w?yjjcu
ipinions about what a bad eye that man
lad.?Texas Si/tings.
Starting the Mule.
It was a soft, bright day when tue
rocus lifted its cup of flame from the
winkling grasses, and the sky was dotted
vith small white clouds. All was balmy
nd serene, and the uncorked soul of the
>oet was overflowing like a bottle of
:hampagne.
The old canal-mule stood upon the toe>ath
as solid as a rock. It was impossible
o move him even to tears. In Tain dU
his navigators attempt to start him by
prying his feet off the ground with a
crowbar. The more they pried, the firmer
the mule stood, and smiled a smile that
floated over his countenance and melted
softly in his ears, while the birds filled
the air with their German-silver not*
"Get up there, you !!!!
I ? I IOOOO t I f I IM J A
: 11:s s: *:: i:: suuuieu me unv^i.
But still the mule stood stock still, as
though intending to gather mo3S.
"?!?!?!!!!!" shouted the driver once
more.
"I'll bet I can start him,"said a small,
thick-set man.
"Let's see you," replied the captain.
So the thick-set man approached the
hind-end of the dreaming quadruped.
He had formerly been a deck-hand on
the Catskill boat, and thought he could
start the mule as they start refractory
cows up the gang-plank, namely, by
twisting his tail. Every eye was on him
as he took hold of the mule's tail to twist
it. The mule himself looked complacently
around, with a twinkle in his
eye3 that seemed to say: "I am not a
stem-winder." He also seemed to be
calculating the weight of the man, and
deciding which-county he would drop
him into.
"He'll be in Chemung county directly,"
said one.
I n iv i._ M ??
"ur aumvan couaiy, rcuiauwcu. another.
"Look, look, now," they said together.
By this time the tail was about half
wound up, and was beginning to tighten
at the roots. He seemed to wind up as
slowly as a Waterbury watch. Finally
the man got it all twisted up.
The birds still sang their sweetest
songs, and the sky looked like a blue
watered-silk dre3S. All nature seemed
to smile. So did the mule.
Then the man gave tne tan a iwisi
that caused the mule's spinal column to
contract, and he just let go all his feet
together?
*******
And didn't stop running until afternoon,
when he fell exhausted, after havingpulled
the canal-boat half way up a
mountain.?Puck.
How a Reporter "Charged it Up.M
When I think of the many funny
things that Kenward Philp did, I find it
difficult to realize that he was born in
England. I am certain that if you had
scratched him deep enough you would
have found a strain of Celtic blood, for
no thorough Englishman could do and
say what he did jmd said. One of the
most famous stories told concerning him
bears relation to a hanging; no one but
j he could get a laugh out of such a ghastly
I subiect. He was once sent to report a
hanging in a town far distant from New
York. He wa> absent several days, and,
as is often the case, found himself, when
making up his bill of expenses, unable to
remember every detail of the expenditure
of the money which he had legitimately
spent. Consequently he charged simply
a lump sum, which was by no means ex- j
cessive. The business manager objected
to its paymeut on the ground that he
should be given an itemized account oi
[ every penny. Philp found he could not
do this, but he determined not to lose
; any of the money which he had expended
011 behalf of the newspaper. So he ma:le
j out his bill anew, and after charging foi
I his hotel bill, railroad fare, and other
j regulation expenses, he added a few items
| in order to make up the sum charged in
the first place.
To appreciate the humor of his revised
account you must understand that
aL a hanging in some country towns in
order to propitiate the sheriff and obtain
entrance to thi jail and other favors, it ia
necessary, as a general rule, to smother
him with kindnesses and liquori. It also
frequently happens that in order to get a
talk with or a confession from the murderer,
enterprising newspaj er men lavishly
bestow cigars, tobacco, and books
upon him. Philp's additions to his bill
were as follows:
To one whiskv cocktail for the unfortunate
wretch 15
To one ditto ditto for the sheriff 15
? ? - - '?
To one ditto ditto ror sen ia
To one ivd necktie for miserably felon... 25
To one ditto ditto for sheriff. 25
To one ditio ditto for self 25
To one copy of Dr. Watts' hymns for the
condemned man 60
To one ditto for sheriff 60
To one ditto for solf 50
To one whisk-broom for doomed
criminal 40
To one ditto ditto for sheriff 40
To one ditto ditto for self 40
After the sad event:
To one whisky cocktail for sheriff...... 15
To one ditto ditto for self 15
None for the lamented deceased "15
Philp was never afterward asked to
make out an itemized bill of expenses.?
New York Mail and Express.
Life Studies by Lige Brown.
The brightest eyes have wept.
The pocket is a poor savings bank.'
Even a tramp can accumulate real estate.
The "watch"-word to bankruptcy?
"tick."
Don't argue with a fool, or the listeners
will say there is a pair of you.
Spiders are affectionate little creatures.
The females eat up their lovers.
When the poet sang of something that
was "strong without hands,M he probably
referred to butter."
Solomon had lots of wisdom, but he
didn't know anything about the convenience
of a hip pocket.
The teacher who makes his scholars
"smart" is not always the one who imparts
the mo->t instruction.
The JiPrnkm n,in wear old clothes
until able to buy new is said to be the
most lonely feeling on earth.
It is said that a vigorous motion of the
jaws will cure nose bleed. No wonder the
women folks are seldom troubled with
that complaint.
Dio Lewis says a man needn't sneeze
unless he wants to. He most generally
wants to, though, by the time the sneeze
gets fairly on deck.
Before Boston goes entirely crazy over
her fema!e barbers she ought to pause a
little between beans and ruminate upon
the trouble Samson got into by letting a
woman cut his hair.
It is a well-known fact that a woman
can never hit the thing she throws at, and
yet the world is full of blue-nosed Togies
who do not believe that everything has
been ordained for the best.? Chicago
ledger.
Her Secret.
ALGERNON.
Why turn away so coldly?
This coyness, dear, is nefr-;
I used to take quite boldly
A little kiss or two.
You vowed to love me dearly
Whatever might betide,
Why do you act so queerly ?
what ails mv promised bride?
BELINDA.
Tho' I express negation,
And shrink, love, from yourohitch,
Your proffered osculation
Would please me very much.
You have n< t guessed the reason
Your darling turns away?
Now onions are in season;
I ate a lot to d ly.
?Rambler.
v - ;. > v;
THE HOME DOCTOR.
An excellent relief for hiccough for
young and old is granulated sugar moistened
with pure vinegar. For an infant
give from a few grains to a teaspoonful.
Pllf firo rlrrvna rtf rTilnrftfnrm nn ft lltt.lA
* -,V v* ~ #
cotton or wool in the bowl of a clay pipe,
then blow th# vapor through the stem
into an aching earancl instant relief will
Ue afforded.
It is computed that a twelve-inch wall
of hard-burned bricks and good lime and
?and mortar could be built 1,600 feet high
before the bottom layers would oe
crushed. If Portland cemcnt were
added to the mortar, the height might
reach 5.700 feet. # >l4.? '
Walking, running, horeeback riding,
lawn tennis, swimming, rowing, skating,
bowling, hand-ball and general gymnastics
are the exercises best adapted to
girls, and, for that matter,to any persons
who wish a healthful and well-balanced
rather than an abnormal physical development.
The Medical Times says that a good
way to remove irritating partieles from the
eye is to take a horse hair and double it,leaving
a loop. If the object can be seen,
lay the loop orer it, close the eje} and
the mote will come out as the hair is withdrawn.
If the irritating object cannot bo
Been, raise the lid of the eye as high as
possible and place the loop as far as you
can, close the eye and roll the ball around
a few times, draw out the hair, and the
substance which caused the pain will be
iure to come with it.
Swiss Acquisitiveness. .. '
Everywhere throughout Switzerland
the traveler finds people who wish to sell
him something, or who continually volunteer
to do something for which they
wish him to pay. A3 he drives along
the country roads, little girls threw
bunches of wild flowers into his carriage
and then run by its side expecting some
money in return. By the roadside, in
the most lonely places, he will find
women and girls sitting behind little
tables on which they are making lace,
which, with a tiny collection of Swiss x.
chalets, and articles of carved wood,
they are very eager to sell.: When the
road passes near a precipitous mountainside,
he will find a man with a long
Alpine horn, who awakens the echoes
ana expects some pennies. At another
place a fenced pathway leads into a little
wood and a notice informs him ttet he ,
"??? ?"< ?? ?n/l (ynf a riow nt th<* Hlttpk
luajr Lutt-i auu gw ? * ?v ? v?
Falls for four cents.
When I was at Grindelwald, a little
village among the Higher Alps, I went
part way up a mountain, to visit a glacier.
In the one which I visited, a long tunnel
had been cut, and this led to
a fairly large room hewn in the very heart
of the glacier, and called the ice grotto.
There were lamps placed about, by which,
this frigid passage was dimly lighted.
The walls and roof of the tunnel were
transparent for a considerable distance,
and I could look into the very substance
of the clear blue ice around me. I fol
lowed my guide tn the end of the tunnel,
and into the grotto, which was lighted
by a single lamp. The moment I set foot
inside this wonderful chamber, with
walls, roof and floor of purest ice, I heard
a queer tinkling and thumping in one
corner, and looking there I saw two old
women, each playing on a doleful little
zither. They looked like two Ijorrible
old witchcs of the ice. Of course I knew
that they were playing for my benefit;
and I wondered if they always sat there
in that enormous refrigerator waiting for
the visitors who might enter and give
them a few cent'mes in return for tneir
mournful strumming. But when I went
out, I found that the old women soon followed.
and I suppose they go into the
glacier and esconce themselves in their
freezing retreat whenever they see ft tour- /
ist coming up the mountain-side.?dt.
Nicholas.
Washington as a Sportsman.
George Washington was always ready
for a fox-hunt. As in his younger days
he had ridden with Lord Fairfax aud the
Fairfaxes of Belvoir, so later, when he
was master of Mount Vernon, he and his
friends were always out in the season, and,
when night came, the party would meet
at one house or the other, for a merry
~< / ? kn nff nnoin Koflinfl tVlP hoiinHfi
ftuppci , IU UC UU ItgUlU ISViMuvt ??
early the next day.
Ia a letter describing Mount Vernon,
Washington speaks of it as "o* one of
the finest rivers in the world; a river well
stocked with various kinds of fish, at all
seasons of the year." The borders of the
estate were washed by ten miles of tidewater,
and the whole shore was one entire
fishery. In the season of canvas-back
ducks, also, Washington was out with
his fowling-piece early and late. The
story is told that he had been much annoyed
by a lawless fellow who came without
leave to shoot on the estate. He came
over from the Maryland shore, and hid
his boat in one of the creeks. One day
"Washington heard the report of a gun,
and guessing it to be that of this man,
who had more than once been warned to
leave, he sprang on his horse and rode in
the direction of the sound. He pushed
his way through the bushes just as the
man, who had seen him approach, was
pushing his boat off. The poacher
raised his gun, and aimed it at Washington,
who spurred his horse at once into ' 4
the water and seized the boat before the
man knew what he was about. Then
Washington, who had a powerful arm,
seized the fellow and gave him a sound
thrashing, and was never troubled by
him again.?St. Nicholas.
Embalming.
A St. Louis undertaker tells a Globe'
Democrat reporter that there are probably
eight or ten undertakers in that city
who arc oompetent to properly embalm
bodies after death, although all undertakers
attempt it, and only one is opposed
to it. The exception is a very
Erominent undertaker, and he thinks emaiming
is wrong and icing is the only
true and successful way of preserving
remains The cost of embalmiu<r is $10
for a mere injection, and $25 when the
work went so far us to remove superabundant
gases. The cost of putting on
ice $10. Only about one person in every
ten who die is embnlmed. The method
employed most generally is to open a
brachial artery and pump in the preserving
fluid.
Fatlicr and Son.
A few days ago a fine old British
soldier, residing in Canada, but widely
known and respected in two hemispheres,
entered the prisoners' dock in a court
room and stood beside a handsome young
man charged with forgery. "Colonel,"
said the public prosecutor, "do you
know the prisoner?" "I do; he is my
only son," was the reply; then the stalwart
figure and dauntless heart that had
survived more than half a century ol
Mmnrn'orninff /*ave wav. and the old
Vwmj/M'g?O" " '
colonel fell dead?killed by a degenerate
son. The denouement was more sudden
than is common, but only in this respect
did the t agedy differ from hundreds
that have been enacted in New York,
and more- t iat are "how having their dis?
mal course.?Net* York Hour.