Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, October 25, 1893, Image 1
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VOL. 39. YOEKVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, OCTODLIi 25, 1893. NO. 43.
ERA OF TRANSITION.
SIGNS THAT SIGNIFY THE APPROACH
OF A NEW SOCIAL ORDER.
Rev. Thomas Dixon, Jr., Continues Ills Series
of Sermons on the Coming Revolution?Marvelous
Progress of the Nineteenth
Century and Its Consequences.
New York, Oct. 22?Kev. Thomas
Dixon, Jr., continued the series of sermons
on the coming revolution at Association
hall this morning. The subject
of today's sermon was the period of
transition or the characteristics of the
times which signify the approach of a
new social order. He discussed as such
figns the rapidity of material progress
iu the elimination of time and space, the
marvelous development of mechanical
forces, the discoveries of science as well
as the growth of cities, the intensification
of life, and the rise of the common
people to political power, and the universality
of education. He declares these
to be the elements which constitute the
basis of necessity of a new social regime.
The text was chosen from Matthew xvi,
3, "Ye know how to discern the face of
the heaven, but yo cannot discern the
Bigns of the times."
History seems naturally to divide itself
into periods. These periods of history
have characteristics which distinguish
them from the centuries which,
precede and the centuries which follow
the era of the crusades as clearly
and distinctly marked in mediaeval history.
' The period of the French revolution
in like manner has its special characteristics
and is clearly defined in the
hfo+nvvr nt trnrlrl ftn in nnnipnt
U.U3tUl J V* VUV ? V. ?V%. WW ?
times there were centuries of development
which are distinctly marked.
There are, upon the other hand, the crises.
of transition between the great historic
centuries of development. These
periods of transition are the seedtime,
while the great centuries of revolution
tmd construction are the harvest times
in history.
A PERIOD OF PREPARATION.
The nineteenth century is peculiarly a
century of transition. It is a period of
preparation. It has been one of tremendous
development, and yet it is the
development of a promise rather than
the fulfillment of that which has gone
before. The most marvelous development
of the nineteenth century is the
prophecy it gives of the twentieth. With
all our wonderful achievements there is
nothing so wonderful as the universal
hope inspired in the human breast that
we will do something better in the near
future.
The import of action in a period of
transition is of inestimable importance.
What is impressed upon the character of
this age will constitute the elements of
strength or of weakness in the new
century that is to be born. That which
is now shaping the forces that shall
dominate the life of the twentieth cen.
tury must partake of permanence. In
L many respects it will be decisive.
^ There are certain elements in our cur
Frent life which reveal to us the tact that
the century before us must be constituted
in its social, economic and political life
L upon a new basis. This must be soft
First?Because of the rapidity of maW
terial progress during the past generar
tion and the speed of that progress in
this generation. The elimination of
time and space has been one of the most
remarkable developments of our period
of invention, and the period of the
world's invention is the latter part of
the nineteenth century.
In the eighteenth century the world
was divided into isolated continents and
isolated nations. There was little intercourse,
and what there was came through
the slow travel by sail on water and
stagecoach on land. The facilities for
gathering news and distributing the history
of different nations among one another
were of the most meager kind.
All this has been changed in the latter
part of the nineteenth century. The
world has literally been made a great
whispering gallery, and every nation
gives its quota to the day's story. There
is no longer isolation of any sort England
and America are today in closer
contact than was Massachusetts and
New York in the eighteenth century. It
is possible for a man to leave America
in one week and visit the dead civilizations
of the east in the next. It is possible
for a man at his breakfast table to
know all the important events that happened
the day before in every nation of
the world. We cross the ocean in less
than six days. We go round the world
in two months, and we come in contact
with the current of the life of all peoples
and all nations.
OUR CIVILIZATION A SYMPOSIUM.
Our civilization is a symposium. The
very delicacies of our table are the product
of the whole earth. What we eat,
what we wear, what we place in our
homes, are the product joint of the effort
of the world.
mi i_i ? x; j i
velous that we literally live 111 a new
world because of those developments.
Each day reveals new wonders. The
present rate of progress, if maintained,
will give a civilization in tVe early part
| of the twentieth century ihe very out!
lines of which no prophet can foretell
I today. The only problem is, Can the
! present rate of progress be maintained
j in the discovery of nature's secrets by
those who are searching for them? The
! probability is that it will not only be
I maintained, but accelerated, for where
! there was one man in search of the eeI
crets of nature for useful ends 20 years
! ago there are a thousand men today
i searching with might and main for these
| secrets to give them immediately to tho
i world as a practical contribution to its
j social and economic life. Speculative
! science has everywhere given way to
i practical science, and the man of speculative
mind cannot refrain from making
the application even on the page of his
philosophic speculation.
THE GROWTH OP CITIES.
The growth of cities has been so remarkable
within the past generation
j and is so rapidly increasing in the pres|
ent that it presages a new life in the near
future?a new life, social, economic, reI
ligious. A glance at the development of
' the cities within the past decade and a
I comparison of each decade in the cen[
tury will reveal that the growth of the
i city has been one of the marvels of mod!
era life. In 1790 the population of the
I United States was in round numbers
j 4,000,000. The population of the citieB
at that time was in rounu numoers 101,|
000?3.35 per cent of the whole populai
tion, leaving a rural population of 96.65
: per cent. In 1890 we had a population
; of 63,600,000. The population of the
i cities had grown to 18,250,000, about 30
per cent of the entire population as jon1
trasted with 3 per cent in 1790. The city
has grown, in short, to dominate the life
' of the century. The rural district ha;
1 lost its power. The scepter of import
j has been transferred to the streets of the
J great cities, and from the streets it has
I 9unk to the gutters, and the dives, and
j the sewers.
The domination of city life over rural
| life is one that cannot continue long
; without a radical change in the whole
| Bocial order. The growth of the city
1 means the growth of the darkest ele;
ments of our life, at the expense, for the
: time being, of the saving elements. The
growth of the city means the growth of
1 the active principle of our civilization.
, The city is the center of activity. Io is
| the center of good and the center of evil.
! It means, therefore, the necessary inten!
sification of life. It means the intensifi- i
' ?C TUa aval Ar\*? nr\ t r\9 '
j L'ttllUU Ul 1/lllUC. XIAO UCT^tU^UiVUV VTA
; crime within this latter part of our cenI
tury has been out of all proportion to the
I progress or law and order. We have
| 7,000 murders in America and 100 legal I
| executions.
The daily record of our crime is some- i
j thing appalling to the heart of those ;
I that love their fellow man. The genera- !
| tion of criminals who have served their
term in penal institutions is increasing
' with marvelous rapidity. A penal col- j
ony within the body of civilization is
| something with which we have never ,
i been confronted before. The number of |
convicts of various degrees which are at j
j present adding to the slum population of I
; our cities is something beyond computa- !
I tion. Corruption in society and in gov- |
| ernment and in commerce has increased j
j in geometrical proportion to the pres|
sure of life.
CORRUPT MUNICIPALITIES.
We have today the most corrupt civili- !
zation in some respects that the world i
has ever seen. If we take our own city
of New York as an example in the development
of political life in the close of
the nineteenth century, we will have
food for the philosopher and the philanthropist.
In the past generation in this
city corruption ruled in municipal life,
but it was a corruption so manifest that
! public indignation could be aroused and
the criminals brought to justice. The
Tweed regime was routed in short order
when once its rascality was made a matter
of public comment and public sus- ,
Jpicion. But this generation has reached j
a point of scientific development in pub- :
lie crime of which Mr. Tweed never i
dreamed. Tweed was a thief who rose 1
from the lowest walks of life to roll in .
luxury, to sport his diamonds and his
carriages out of public plunder. But i
' * - -
ine promem 01 nine anu spare nas
within a few years been practically annihilated.
The use of steam and electricity
has brought the world thus in
close contact. But the speed with which
we are making progress even in annihilating
time and space is so great that it
is possible within the next generation
that the rate of travel will be increased
from four to five fold at least. It may
be possible for the children of the next
generation to have their suburban homes
500 miles from the place of their daily
p. business. Such an achievement would
mean the development of the city until
it shall literally cover the whole earth.
In mechanical developments, our rate
of progress has been a marvel during
the past generation, but it is more marvelous
today. Armies of men and women
now give themselves exclusively to
Via worlf r\{ mprhnnifal invp-ntinn. Onr
daily life has been literally revolutionized
by mechanics. What our ancestors
did by hand we do by machinery. This
tremendous force brought into play by
cranks and wheels and levers is a new
problem in the development of the
world's life. The bureau of statistics in
Berlin estimated in 1887 that the steam
engines at that time at work in the
world represented not less than 1,000,000,000
workingmen?that is to say, the
steam engines at work in 1887 did more
than three times the working force of
the entire earth. Their earning capacity
at that time was three limes greater
than the muscle power of the world.
The advance in the application of mechanical
power to the problems of life
since 1887 has been most marvelous of
all. Since that time electricity has taken
in large measure the place of steam
* in a thousand avenues of life, and where
t'no steam wheel made one revolution
the electric motor makes ten. If we increase
at this rate during the next generation
the working force of the world,
it will be possible to do all the work
necessary for the production and distribution
of economic goods within a few
hours of every week, if society can be
organized upon ithe co-ojterfttive rather
than the competitive basis.
A DISTURBANCE IN EXISTING CONDITIONS.
It can be seen at once that it is impossible
for society to receive each day this
tremendous army of wheels and levers
without causing a radical disturbance
in the existing social order within the
near future. Labor organizations in
their blind ignorance have fought the introduction
of machinery in the labor of
the world. But as they become educated
they will not be slow in seeing that the
tvnrk of the world can be done by ma
chinery in a few hours when that machinery
is harnessed by a co-operative
social order.
The developments of science during
the past generation have been so mar
| ne was a ciumsy uuei.
Today his successor in office, Mr. :
Richard Croker, is the boss of our political
I life. He is the most important factor in
i our American politics today. A few
years ago he was a prizefighter, a general
sport, and he was poor. Today he
lives in a palace, ho owns magnificent
I rural estates, he sports the finest blood
1 horses in America, and his wealth must j
be estimated by tho million. He holds 1
no public office and has no visible
means of support save as the boss of a
political club organized for plunder in a
great city.
Not only have we such corruption before
our eyes and absolutely master of
our municipal life, but more?they add i
insult to injury; they pose as the bene- j
factors of society. The people are un- '
mercifully taxed to fill the pockets of j
these thieves, and the masses of the poor
people in the cities must bear the burden.
WEALTH AND POVERTY.
What is true of New York is true in a
smaller degree in nearly all of the great
cities of America today. This intensi- j
fication of life has brought us the marvelous
increase of wealth and the painful
increase of poverty. Our life today
may be termed the tropics of civilization.
It is probable that the Astor estate
alone has reached $300,000,000.
There are single individuals in this
i city whose income cannot be less than
$20,000,000 a year.
There are a thousand men in this city
whose wealth is vastly over a $1,000,000.
There are a dozen men in this city who
can, if they will, control both the finan;
cial development of the nation and dicI
tate its political policies by the use of
their money.
I The poverty of the poor is in like manner
increasing to the degree of starvation
from day to day.
While a thousand men in this city esti;
mate their wealth at over $1,000,000, it
can be safely said that there are 100,- !
000 people in this city who are hungry
for bread every day in the year. The i
number of people who sleep on boards,
and who drift from house with nowhere
j to sleep, approximates 100,000 daily. Tho
children of this generation of paupers
seem to increase with greater rapidity ;
than the normal rute of the increase of
the average population of the world.
HOPE.
While the evil elements of life have
thus been intensified, we take hope from
the fact that the better elements of life
are also being intensified. Tho heroism
of this life in its crying wants, its needs,
is as brilliant in its individual examples
i as at any time in the history of the
world. While crime and corruption and
debauchery have increased in tho city,
the army of self sacrificing men and
women who are willing to givo their
lives for the betterment of mankind
daily increases.
We have the meanest men in New
York in the world perhaps. We also
have some of the best men and women
in New York in the world. The intensification
of life in this century has introduced
a new element just here in our development
of civilization which must in
1 the immediate future tell as it has not
I in tho past.
WOMEN WORKERS.
The number of women that have pour
. ed their lives into the current stream of
active endeavor has been, within the last
20 years, increasing as never before in
the history of the human race. Aceordi
ing to the report of the census of 1880,
i there were in America among women
who earned their daily bread outside of
domestic service the following numbers
in different professions: 110 lawyers, 165
ministers, 320 authors, 588 journalists,
2,001 artists, 2,130 architects, chemists,
pharmacists, 2,10G stock raisers and
; ranchers, 5,145 government clerks, 2,438
j physicians and surgeons, 13,182 profes!
sional musicians. 50,800 farmers and
I planters, 21,071 clerks and bookkeepers, I 1
! 14,465 heads of commercial houses, 155,j
000 public school teachers. 1
This was by the census of 18S0, but by 1
j the report of the last census of 1890 there 1
I is received the remarkable fact that in i
these 10 years the army of women who i
j earn their daily bread outside of their ]
! homes now reaches the enormous total
i of 2,700,000.
For the first time in tho history of *
economics woman has entered as an ac- 1
tive factor. Her influence in develop- i
i ing the history of the next generation '
: can but be marvelous. Her influence in <
, molding and fashioning the life of socie- j 1
to when thus brought in active contact 1
j with its working force cannot be less 1
i than it has been in other spheres where j 1
| woman's influence has been felt when j *
I woman's position is recognized as it j
1 should be in the world of economics.
We stand upon the threshold of an
economic evolution, of a new social
I order. It means, sooner or later, that
j woman will be emancipated from the
j slavery in which she has labored in tho |
I past, in an unequal struggle with man, j
and that society in its working force will j
j be elevated and refined and humanized j
: by her touch, her sympathies and her |
life.
POLITICAL EQUALITY OF TIIE COMMON PEO- i
PLE.
Third?The rise of the common people
to political equality in government with
the traditional ruling classes has been I
accomplished within this century and ,
is but the beginning of a revolution that
is not yet accomplished. Robert Mackenzie
says: "Sixty years ago Europe
was an aggregate of despotic powers,
disposing at their own pleasure of the
I r,f onlvionfc Tn.
< 41 * VTO (1X1VI vyvi VJ V* VUC4* UV?WJVVIMI *v t
i day the men of western Europe govern
| themselves." Popular suffrage, more or
! less closely approaching universal,
: chooses the governing power, and by j
methods more or less effective dictates
; its policy.
One hundred and eighty million Euro- <
; peans have risen from a degraded and
' ever dissatisfied vassalage to the rank of <
I free and self governing men. This has
been an accomplishment which has sim- i
j ply put into the hands of the common ,
people the weapons with which they will I <
fight their battles in the twentieth cen- I
tury. The battles are yet to be fought:
the revolution is yet to be accomplished. <
They have simply been given the ballot, I <
and the consciousness of their power has j
only begun to dawn upon them. I
In the early part of the twentieth cen- i
tury wo may surely look for a sufficient I ]
diffusion of intelligence to bring this tre- i j
mendous mass into the aggressive asser- j ]
tion of the fullest rights of manhood. I 1
Hitherto they have been dominated by ]
bosses, by tricky politicians, and they
have followed skillful leaders blindly. 1
AN EXPLOSION IMMINENT. ]
So intense are becoming these elements i
of corruption that it cannot continue ]
longer without an explosion. The lamp ! (
has been lit, and it has been left burning, c
A woman in a western home during the i
war sent a servant into the cellar with a <
lighted candle to look for some object. 1
The servant returned without the candle.
The housewife asked where she had left
it. She said that she had left it in a bar- I i
rel of sand in the cellar. The housewife ; t
remembered that there was a barrel of (
powder standing open in the cellar, i
Without a moment's hesitation she c
rushed below and found that the igno- t
rant girl had thrust the candle down into 1
the loose powder and left it burning. She f
lifted it carefully and extinguished it.
The movement for universal suffrage j 1
in this century has placed the candle of [ t
lrr>nrvrlnrlfro withnnt. n nnndlpctielr in til A I T
loose powder of tho common people. I t
This light of knowledge is burning closer 1
and closer, and the heat is becoming a
more and more intense with each mo- j
ment. Thero is no power on earth, un- c
der tho earth or above tho earth that >
can remove that candle from its posi- i
tion. By a law as sure as the law of r
gravitation, the flame is* approaching 1
the powder, nearer and nearer every : 1
day. When it reaches the end?that is, 1
the point of actual, conscious contact j 1
with their mind?there will be an explo- 1
sion that will unsettle thrones and tra- i
ditions, whether occupied by the czar of i
Russia or Richard Croker I of New i
York. ! r
INFLUENCE OF EDUCATION. C
Fourth?Tho universality of education t
is a factor in the closing of the nineteenth ^
century which must make a new world j a
in the twentieth.
We have now entered upon the democracy
of letters. Hitherto in the history
of mankind knowledge was confined to
the few. The higher professions wero v
open only to the sons of distinguished i tl
men. Now they are opened to the child b
of the state born and reared in obscurity { f:
and disgrace and poverty. Thero is no o
limitation to the possibilities of human g
endeavor, because education has been !
brought within the reach of all. In v
America we have 13,000,000 children in g
our public schools. This means that the i<
next generation will bo a new i>eople. t
With this wide diffusion of knowledge i<
has come the scientific spirit of inquiry, fi
New blood has been brought into our e
world of science, our world of philoso- t
phy. Men no longer reason by the stand- lj
ards of Aristotle and Plato. They do v
not ask what has been taught by the
great men of the past and stop there, v
They do not seek authority for action, o
mi 1. r? p nnu^..
j-uuy buarun iui Li uin iui iLSL-ii. lucj t'
refuse to be bound by the traditions of t
the past. The time was when kuowl- i;
edge was confined to a certain clique in (
society. They had their peculiar ideas, o
They were educated in their own pe- a
culiar schools. They thought in ruts. \
Their minds never traveled beyond cer- \
tain well defined limitations, and in con- i
sequence they traveled in a circle con- c
tinuously. 1
A GENERAL READJUSTMENT. 1
With the universal dilfusionof knowledge
and the introduction of new spirits
in the field of investigation, all this has
been changed. Nothing is now settled
save that which is settled upon the basis ?
of proved fact. Every tradition, every ?
theory, every creed, must stand the test
of this investigation. Every theory of \
state, every notion of society, every t
theory of religion, must be resubmitted i
to this court of last adjustment?the ;i
truth, the whole truth, nothing but the t
truth. i
For the first time in the history of the j r
wrvrM fliiu emrit. dominates the educated
mind. Hitherto we have simply clung j
to the past with passionate and blind do- I
votion. Father Ryan well expresses this t
ancient ideal: I f.
Yea! Men will cling.
With a iove to the last, . j
And wildly fling f
Their arms round their past ,
As the vine that clings to the oak that falls, '
As tho ivy twines round the crumbled walls;
For the dust of tho past some hearts higher
prize
Than the stars that flash out from the future's 1
bright skies. *
REVISION* OF THE CREEDS. 3
This was in tho old days. Now all '
things tiro being made new. All things j
aro being brought in question. Nothing .
is accepted as authoritative because it is
ancient. Tho creeds of Christendom aro
all undergoing radical revision. Tho
traditionalists may resist with all their
power?they fight against the stars.
Tho creeds of the world within the
next generation will be fixed on facts, ^
not fancies. Superstition and tradition
aro being destroyed with a rapidity that ^
will give the world a new religion with- 1
in the next 20 years, and that religion [
will be the Christianity of Jcsns Christ
in its simplicity as Jesus lived it and J
preached it. It will be the religion, in
' other words, of the spirit, not the letter. 1
j The barriers of mltional lines and '
prejudice have all been broken down.
The heathen world is now in vital con- [
tact with tho Christian world and tho
Christian world's civilization. J
A hundred years ago Japan was utter- i
ly isolated from the rest of mankind. 1
! There was a law in force providing that ' *
1 P T 1.| t
I "no snip or nauvo 01 japan snoum (put j
tho country under pain of forfeiture and
death; that any Japanese returning 1
from a foreign country should be put to r
death; that no nobleman or soldier
should be suffered to purchase anything t
from a foreigner; that any person bringing
a letter from abroad should die to
gether with all his family and any who
might presume to intercede for him." J
CHRISTIANITY IN JAPAN AND CHINA.
Every heathen nation has been opened
to Christian influences and to the ad- j
ranee of the civilization of Christian na- i
tions. Not only this, but they have of
necessity been compelled to study mod- i
?rn science. Japan stands today prac- i
;ically within the pale of modern civi- i
ization. I took my seat in the Johns
Hopkins university around the seminary I
;able, in the study of political and social j
science, with young Japanese students
:rom tho capital of Japan. China is
itudying the methods of tho modern
svorld and introducing of necessity modern
inventions. The whole human race
;s thus of necessity being brought into j
vital contact and this for the first time
in the history of mankind.
POPULAR DISCONTENT. * j
Thus the universal spread of education
xmong all peoples ushers us immediately j
ipon a new era in the history of man- !
rind. We are not satisfied with the
present attainment. The workingman's j
ihild who receives the same education
is the millionaire will not be content to
be his slave in the next generation, and '
there is no power of church or state or
jociety that can hold him so, for there
ire no traditions that can bind him.
President Andrews of Brown university
says: "If anything has been made
certain by the economic revolution of
the last 23 years, it is that society cannot
much longer get on upon the old liber- ,
iarian, competitive, go-as-you-please sys- i
tern to which so many sensible persons
jeem addicted. The population of the j
jreat nations is becoming too condensed I
for that."
Bishop Westcott of Cambridge university
says: "On every side imperious
voices trouble the repose which our inlolence
would wish to keep undisturbed. : [
We can no longer dwell apart in secure
isolation. The main interests of men i
ire once again passing through a great , 1
change. They are most surely turning '
from the individual to the society."
Tho author of /'God In His World" j 1
jays: "Wo are now approaching such a
crisis. No human wisdom can predict I
.ts shaping any more than it can prevent I i
:ho issue. The air is full of auguries,
ind even our fiction has become very j 1
precisely apocalyptic. It is theoretic j I
prophecy, anticipating the realization of i !
perfect scientific and social economics? i
ho paradiso of outward comfortable- ' 1
less." ; '
William T. Stead says: "Everywhere j
:lie old order is changing and giving
place unto the new. Tho human race is (
low at one of the crucial periods in its I '
listory when the fountains of the great j 1
leep are broken up, and the flood of '
:hange submerges all the old established t i
nstitutions and conventions in the midst ]
)f which proceeding generations have i ]
ived and died." | i
CONSCIOUSNESS OF rOWER. !
It is impossible to cducato the human
ace, without at tho same tiino lifting j I
he human race into tho consciousness 1
)f the resistless power of numbers. We |
ire now about to enter upon the period ! '
)f activity which will be the result of ! I
his universal consciousness of tho in- ;
lerent power of manhood. Who can 1
'oretell its results? <
Tho child of tho hod carrier today is i i
letter trained than kings and princes in j
he not very far past. All tho dishes i
daced on the table of Louis XIV were J i
asted in the presence of the king before j
le would touch them, and each guest |
ii_ i ?;j.t a i., |
vas supplied wini a spuuu iur uus pur- \ <
K).so of helping himself from a common ! ]
lish. Anno of Austria, tho queen who ; ]
,vas celebrated for her beautiful hands, j
tfis said once gave a piece of meat to her j ,
leighbor, which she had just taken from ; ]
ler plate with her fingers, and allowed 1 j
lim (and this was tho point which the 1 ]
listorian recorded) ns a special favor to ,
ick off what remained on the hand.
The child of the commonest working- I j
nan that attends our public school is ,
noro cultured in all tho essentials of ,
eal civilization than were kings and
jueens and princes in tho eighteenth i
:entury. When the common herd are
;hus lifted to the position of kings, they j
vill not be long in fitting themselves j
vith a crown. j '
I
;
Why Sturtt "Twinkle."
If we look intently at a bright star, , ,
re notice that the color and intensity of i
ho light arc constantly changing from '
rilliancy to almost total obscurity, and j .
rom bright red to blue, orange, yellow, j
tc. This is the phenomenon usually <
poken of as the "twinkling" or scintilltion
of the stars. The "twinkling" j ,
rill be noticed more plainly when tho
tar is near the horizon and will diminsh
in intensity ns it rises until it is near
he zenith, at which time the twinkling j i
j scarcely noticeable. It must bo con- |
essal that this twinkling has never been
xplained to the satisfaction of all invesigators.
However, it is generally be- j 1
ieved to be due to controlling causes (
ritliin the earth's atmosphere. 1
That the cause may bo looked for
ritliin the belt of air that surrounds
ur planet (to particles of vapor, dust, j '
tc.) may le inferred from the fact that (
he planets never exhibit the character- f
stic twinkling so noticeable in the star. '
)no reason for this is the size (apparent) ]
f the planets. The planets each show ; '
, sensible disk even to too naked eye, 1
vliile the strongest instrument in tho 1
vorld only shows the stars as beirg *
acre points of light. This being tho , <
use, any foreign substance in tho at- '
nosphcre would momentarily hide tho 1
ight and make the star appear to J
twinkle."?St. Louis Repubbo.
I
Hi- Knew .11 r. Depetv. (
Here's one on C'haunccy Depew. Tho '
;enial doctor had dropped in to seo a 1
gentleman on some business at his pri- *'
ate residence. An inquisitive small boy i
vas playing in the extension room back 1
>f the parlor. He seemed to take a great i
ntcrest in the visitor, and every now 1
ind then suspended his sport to reconnoier
him. When Mr. Depow loft, the lad , (
an to the front window and looking out ;
iskod: | <
"Who is that man, papa?" 1
"He's the gentleman your mother and <
were talking about at the breakfast ;
able tliis morning, Mr. Depcw. the 1
greatest story teller I ever hoard." <
A few days after the visitor eanio 1
nmin. The lad was standing on tho I
'rout stoop, and as Mr. Depcw rang tlio
?ell ho said to him: ,
"I know yon." (
Mr. Depew is fond of child: on, and j
tutting tin; little felli.w on the head oh- |
icrved encouragingly, "Come now, if ,
rou think you know who I am. who ]
nn 1?" ,
"You're the gentleman that tells the ,
jiggest whoppers papa ever heard."? ,
STew York Times. ' (
i
A Chip of tlio Old Block.
A Trinity professor and his young son
vero dressing together one morning not j
ong ago when the father thought he ,
aw a chance to inculcate into his son a ,
ew good ideas. lie looked out of the (
vimlow and saw the small boj- who lived
loxt door to them working hard in the (
jarden, and this was his opportunity.
Henry," he said, "look at Walter Jones .
vorking out there in the garden. He's ,
icon 110 since 5 o'clock this morning.
nilked tho cow and brought the milk
>ver here. Now, there's a hoy for you."
The boy mused for a minute or two, ;
hen looked up at his father and said, '
'Papa, do you see Mr. Jones over there?
le's been xip since 5 o'clock working
lard in the garden planting corn and
ieas. Now, there's a i i l'? r you." And "
he professor as lie tells the story says !
here was just a twinkle in his son's eye.
-Hartford Post.
$hr ifori* Icllrr.
"SHEET-IRON JACK."
There are many stories of California
stage robbers, which have become a
part of the western "Classics of the
Road," hut one seldom hears of the
earlier, far more superb type of mountain
terrors on horseback. They were
not all of them Mexicans, such as
Jnnnnin Marietta and Tiburcio Yas
ques. The most picturesque outlaws
of the Pacific coast were Americans,
and their adventures are still told in
pioneer cabins, in the wilderness of the
Klamath, the Trinities, and the upper
Sacramento.
First*it must he explained, the result
of the gold discovery, and the sud- I
den popularity of the foothills, broke
the ordinary bonds of social order. I
The mines brought to the surface and '
threw into strong relief all that was
best?and worst?in human nature, i
Here mei| became heroes or despera- !
does ; they rose to eminence, or sunt
into the wastes of obscurity. Nothing i
was so cheap as human life ; the new J
commonwealth was founded on prime- i
val chaos. '
Hundreds of books have been writ- |
ten about the gold era?hundreds more
will appear till time ends. But those
that men write who have never known
California and the early Californians, I
are worse than worthless; they arc
like bear stories told by men who
study their grizzlies in picture books. '
The only life of Murietta, the most !
stormv outlaw that ever lived in i
America, was written by a man who J
sat down in fiis room and edited all
the newspaper items lie could find; it
was illustrated in New York by a man
who never saw a Mexican or a Pacific
coast landscape.
If you want a story full to each mi- !
nutc detail of exactness, like the exactness
of a photograph, come with
me to the cabins of the pioneers. Lis- ~j
ten to the legends of "Sheet-Iron Jack
of Shasta," one of the old brigands of
early California.
Sheet-Iron Jack became a uoted i
character about the time that the surface
mines of Shasta and Trinity be- 1
gan to "play out." He was handsome, !
young and talented, a very Ainsworth's
Dick Turpiu or John Ridd's
Cousin Tom on horseback. No clergyman
was ever molested on his beat,
so from this ami other circumstances j
the story came that he was the young- !
est son of a prominent Baptist minis- J
ter in New York.
His popular name, the only one by :
which he was known, arose from some 1
of his remarkable escapes. Men said j
that he could shake bullets from his I
coat as a duck sheds water. Certainly
the best shots among the constables
and sheiill's of the region found it im- j
possible to wing this Hying rider as he
passed like a whirlwind through the
mountains of the Northern Coast
range and the Sierra,
There was never a more audacious :
brigand. The elder Dumas would j
liave made him the hero of a three i
volume novel. It was known that he
was the most expert of horse thieves,
but he practiced his profession with
such admirable politeness and humor
that nine-tenths of his victims never
^ared to complain, which left this
unique genius free to escape, deride,
ind cover with obloquy and confusion
the remaining tenth, and all whom
llicy called to their help.
It goes without saying that he was
brave, with that splendid physical '
courage which in times of tumult raises \
fishermen to ducal chairs and makes i
hostlers marshals of France. His high j
vitality overllowed?so the old pioneers :
say?in acts and sayings that would |
have chorded well with great surround- |
ings and fateful crises of history. He
belonged to the type of men whom Na- ;
[>olcon and Skobelotfloved, understood, j
>m<l sent on desperate errands. Only a j
horse thief, and yet what wasted raw
material of heroism went to the mak- j
Ing of his character !
No one knew where Sheet-Iron Jack j
lived. Somewhere in a wilderness un- j
crossed hy wagon roads he made his I
camps, never twice in the same ravine,
lie seemed to have kuowlcge of all the
moves of his enemies, and if the sheriff
went to San Francisco was as likely as
not to ride leisurely through the county
scat, take a drink in the leading sa- j
loon, dine at the Miner's Hotel, and
;ive the newspaper editor an item writ- j
ten out for publication in his own Ital- j
an hand, and signed "Sheet-Iron Jack, j
cf Trinity Centre."
One of his most famous exploits oc- !
currcd in the foothills of southern j
Shasta. He had taken a dozen blooded
horses from a wealthy Tehama farmer,
but was closely pursued, and just
is he reached the Cottonwood cross- !
ng he found it necessary to change
Iris tactics. He turned the stolen :
liorses into another rancher's stable, ;
uid drove a dozen of the rancher's .
)\vn horses into the highwny to con- :
fuse his pursuers.
When these latter reached the little j
village across the bridge, a rough |
[canister was the only guest at the log- j
. abin hotel?Sheet-Iron Jack in whim- ;
deal disguise for he was a perfect Proteus
when occasion required. Before
norning he locked the sheriffs party 1
n their rooms, took the best horses, 1
.timed the others loose in the woods, \
vent back to the rancher's stable, and |
secured the pick of the first lot. With I
liese he swam the Sacramento, and, :
aking advantage of hiding-places I
mown only to himself, reached Oregon
in safety a week later.
The saucy and amusing letter of j
[hanks which he left behind on this I
occasion, pinioned with his pocket- \
tnife to tlie sheriff's door, went the j
rounds of all the newspapers. The j
sheriff's wrath, however, was so abid- <
ng that short would have been Jack's i
ife-leasc if he had been overhauled ; |
n less than two minutes he would I
? I
lave been dangling irom a pine iree. ;
Sheet-Iron Jack on one memorable !
Jccasiou ventured into a town on the 1
Sacramento at a time when half a doz- '
.mi warrants were hanging over his j
lead. He was recognized under his I
lisguise, and pursued by a crowd of ;
irniod citizens. He could not reach !
lis own horse, but ran into a stable, j
ait an loose animal, rode out of the I
jack door on an alley and made for !
die river.
Every one saw the horse and rider
iwini across in a hail of bullets and I
climb the shrubbyjiank, but when the '
[uirsucrs, who ran around by the j
uridge, reached the place, the horse
was found riderless. Sheet-Iron Jack |
tiad quietly slipped oil' and crept tin- j
ler the wild grape vines into the ;
river again, floated down stream close j
under the blulf, swam back and wait- j
id his time. An hour later he recovered
his own horse and made a successful
break for the Western foothills.
That was the time of frontier balls j
11 the thinly settled counties of North- i
?rn California. People would often
drive twenty and thirty miles to a i
lance, and Sheet-Iron Jack sometimes '
ippeared uninvited. It was in the j
cdsre of the oak forests on the eastern |
side of the Sacramento, in Northern !
Shasta, that the Stillwater settlers I
were onee having a hall in a log-cabin :
school house.
A tall, black-haired young man, ele- j
uantly dressed, appeared 011 the scene, I
md became the bright particular star j
;>f the occasion. A very handsome j
brunette was about to be led on the
lloor by her partner, when the stranger |
stepped up to his side whispered his
name, bowed to the young lady, saying
her partner had resigned the privilege
and led her out.
The terrorized young man sat down i
: and saw Sheet-Iron Jack repeat the i
operation with half the girls in the
room. Then with a smile and a bow j
j the merry brigand said :
"Such charming ladies I have never | v
seen before, but really the men of this v
district are not as brave as they might ?]
! be." J p
Then he, kissed his last partner's J
| pretty hand, walked out of the door, c
and disappeared in the darkness, leav- I s,
; ing a dozen \cvy sheepish-looking ; s
young fellows behind him. I i,
Like most of the typical highway- j j,
men, Sheet-Iron Jack was n spend- : j;
thrift, and believed in the Robin Hood I v
political economy. He helped many a a
poor fellow, footsore, homeless, and sl
weary, to a new start. He once saved ; 0
a stage from an accident by repairing j
a broken bridge at the bottom of a ! c
grade, just before the belated stage ! 0
tore down the rain-swept mountain. j p
People told stories of him that would i 0
have done credit to the best of men. j s.
He often Hung a five, or a twenty-dol- n
lar piece to a "dead-broke man, with j s,
the terse command : | fj
"Don't you drink whiskey, and don't ),
you believe all the bad stories you hear 0
about Sheet-Iron Jack." j
The following incident is perhaps as ' j,
characteristic as any that are told of t]
this genial outlaw: c.
One day in August a Herman was ! jj
riding along the mountain paths of j
Southern Trinity. His horse, a fine j,
and valuable animal, suddenly went | c,
lame, and in an hour was only able to gj
hobble forward. The ignorant youth ! ^
was in despair. He had paid one hun- '
dred and fifty dollars for the horse, j j,
and now he expected to be compelled I ft
to abandon the animal. w
At this juncture a mild-voiced, be- i t(
nevolent old man, the shrewdest horse e,
trader in the coast range, overtook the p.
poor German, won his confidence, ex- a
amined the horse, and pronounced the n
trouble a clear case of "founder." i 0
"'Twill take him a year to get well, c
an' he'll never be much of a horse ; p,
agin." u
After awhile the shrewd trader of- i c<
fered the German twenty dollars for
the horse, saying that he should turn t|
him out in a pasture for a year or more, j ^
The unhappy young man consented, e
took the money, and started down the . 0
hill to walk to the stage station. , n
The sharper waited until he was out jj
of sight, took a pair of pincers from , (j
his saddle bags, and in five minutes had j tj
taken off the four new shoes of The 0
lame horse. In half an hour the ani- ' j,
mal was able to walk with comfort. j a
"I tho't so," the new owner said. |
"The minute I seen them new shoes ! j|
I knowed the trouble. The hoss is ^
worth $200. Wish I could find scch a
fool every day." I 0
The poor German toiled on nearly j ~
an hour with the heavy saddle-bags,
when a man rode out of the bushes and n
asked:
"Where in the devil is your horse?" jj
The hesitating German related what i C|
had happened, blushing with the rising
conviction that he had made a mistake, j
The stranger sat sidewise on his great Cl
brown horse, with one knee thrown j S(
over the saddle, and broke into merry j
fits of laughter as he listened. He j g,
asked a few questions about the an- | ]
cient and friendly stranger. At last j ^
he said :
"Well, this is my territory, so I'll I J
help you out. You go under the oak I / .
in the gulch, and you'll find my camp, j
The dried venison is hanging to a !
limb. Don't build a fire, but turn in 1
whenever you choose."
Willi such a horse as Sheet-Iron i
Jack rode, it was easy to overtake the ! tl
swindler, and he then proceeded with i C
great dignity to reprove him at the n
point of a revolver. I g
"A bargain's a bargain," said the j "
man, "hut you've got sieh a takin' i ir
way that ye can hev the boss when ye ! tl
give me back my twenty dollars."
"That goes for my fees as a lawyer," j-li
Sheet-Iron Jack responded. "But ' tl
now that I think of it, my time is w
worth more than that. Shell out !" 1 D
And lie to<)k over two hundred dol- 1 tv
lars from the discomlittcd speculator i tl
in horsellesh, tossed him back a twen- , ai
ty-dollar. piece, and rode back to where i e
the young German lay asleep under : T
the oak. Jc
"Climb on"' he said, "and ride on [ T
to Weaverville. Hold your tongue !
about this performance for a few days, j tl
and don't try any more horse trades. I p
That is a fine animal; if I had come si
along first, I might have taken it my- j si
self. Good-by." j ft
A few years later Sheet-Iron Jack ii
grew tired of his old "stamping : si
ground," and went on a long ride into ti
Idaho and Montana, then just coming b
into prominence as a mining region. , w
Jack, at last accounts, was serving a j Vi
sentence in a California prison. He is j b
an old man, aged an infirm. I tl
j 11
Tho Average Girl'* IIUMbaixl.
What rubbish is nil this talk of "best ti
possible husbunds!" A girl takes tho j tr
man who offers if ho appears to bo up- ! fc
right, honorable and in eurnest. If sho ; si
does not, she runs a risk of going to seed, i ol
with a red nose, a canary bird and a lap ' ci
dog. The chief trouble with her is not to k
know whether sho hus got the best articlo a
in tho market, but whether tho man who T
says ho loves her means what ho says, yi
It is easy for a man to acquire the art of m
lovcmaking, and with a littlo practice j hi
some men can do it quite skillfully. t la
How to know when they aro acting and re
when they are obeying an irresistible | ni
and ungovernable impulse is the thing a ] N
girl wants to be able to determine. J fa
Better learn that than make herself a J ai
connoisseur in men. A woman's happi- I d,
ness is to a large degree dependent on | tl
the quality of him to whom she has 1 f
given herself, body, soul and heart, but jt]
if he really loves her she can mold him . ic
to her will. Then?considering that all ' j)(
women believe they know how to "man- ' C1
age" a husband?she can mako a "good
husband" out of him, for ho will bo like l a,
clay in the hands of the potter.?San 0]
Francisco Argonaut. i
Tlio Cuurantce Held Good.
Nearly half a century ago a maiden \
lady residing in Roxboro purchased an ;
ax from George Davis, a hardware
dealer in Manayunk. Tho ax was in j
constant service, and by its many trips to j
tho grindstone was worn down until tho
steel blade was no longer of use. Yes- 1
terday tho old lady carried the pole or j1
Vino/l nf tho ii v tn Mimnvnnk to have a 1
new blade inserted. Meeting a friend. I i,c
he advised her to go to Davis' store, now | 111
kept by two sons of tho former proprie- j sc
tor, and get a new one in exchange, as I 1,1
the old one was warranted to last a life- 111
time. The t .vo Davis brothers protested :
against exchanging, while tho lady ve- f a|
hemcutly urged Iter rights. A large j ?'
crowd soon congregated, every one sid- I
ing with the woman. She finally tri- j s'
umphed and walked out of the store with ! ?1
a brand new article, waving it above her i -st
head as an emblem of her victory over I
tho firm.?Philadelphia Record. j
Trying to .Sell Suiuggled AVhUky. j ti
A story of the late Adam Black, the j ('
founder of tho well known publishing 1 (It
house, is told by Dr. Prydo in liis j K
"Pleasant Memories of a Busy Life.'' ! ti
One day shortly after Mr. Black began j tr
business as a bookseller a suspicious hi
looking man came stealthily into the . in
shop, and leaning over tho counter whis- j
percd into his ear, "I've got some fine i
smuggled whisky, which I'll let you !
have at a great bergain." "No, no," j y
said Mr. Black indignantly, "I want I
nothing of the kind; go away.' xne y
mail, evidently not believing in the sin- J1
cerity of this righteous outburst, leaned " Cl
over tho counter again and whispered, !l!
"I'll tako Bibles fort."?Boston Com- u'
monwealth. C|
JUiSfcUnncous grading.
THE DAYS OF THE TINDER BOX.
People who are given to speaking and
writing in praise of the good old times,
ery conveniently ignore a feature of
hose days that must have been intense*
y disagreeable. We, of modern times,
an have no conception of what our anestors
underwent to obtain a light or
tart a fire. Now a-days, we simply
trilrn o mnlcli niwl tllf> ni'OPCCS SPPIJIS to
c so easy and natural that it is hard to
nagine any other method of ignition,
tut, iti the days of the tinder box, it
,*as necessary to keep a fire burning
11 night, in at least one room, for to
trike a light was a long and tedious
peration.
There were little silver boxes that
ontaincd amadou, the spongy texture
f a puff ball, and some matches diped
in sulphur ; also a flint. One side
f the box was armed with a steel. In
triking a light the holder put the
mandou in position to receive the
parks from the steel as he struck the
int; then, when the amadou glowed,
e touched it with the brimstone end
f the match and ignited that?a mat?r
of five or ten minutes. A hurglar
1 those days could run away with all
tie silverware in the house before a
andle could be lighted to look for
im.
The tinder box employed commonly
1 the kitchen was a different applicaation
of the same principle. It conisted
of a circular tin or iron box, with
lie sockets for a candle soldered on
jp. This box contained a removable
ottom. When opened it displayed a
steel and a lump of flint. These
ere taken out of an dremovable hotim
lifted up, when below was disclosd
a mass of black tinder. The manuicture
of this tinder was one of the
ccomplishments of our forefathers, or
ither our foremothers. It was made
f linen rags burnt in a close vessel
hai red to tinder, without being set on
re, and the manufacture of tinder had
) take place weekly, and consumed a
onsiderable amount of linen.
in tnc morning eariy, oeiore uawu,
le first sounds heard in a small house
'ere the click, click, click of the kitchn
maid striking the flint and steel
ver the tinder in the box. When igited,
a match was applied, the candle
ghted, and at once the plate of tin let
own over the precious tinder to exnguish
it. If any one possessing an
Id tinder box will try his hand at it,
e will find how toilsome, unpleasant,
nd lengthy the process is.
Then came in the phosphorus bottle,
t held its ground a very short while,
ecause of the danger attending it.
his consisted of a small bottle, like
tie of smelling salts, that contained
hosphorus. A match was thrust into
and twirled about till it ignited the
latch, but as simultaneously the phoshorus
in the bottle sometimes caught
re, this invention was speedily disarded.
Then came the "Instantaneous Light
iox," which consisted of a tin box
antaining a bottle in which was placed
imc sulphuric acid, with sufficient
sbestos to soak it up, and a supply of
nail splits of wood, coated with a
lieinical mixture. This was followed
y the "Lucifer" match, which was
jnited by drawing it through a piece
f bent sand-paper, and finally the
iction match that we use today.?
roldcn Days.
AN ENGINEER'S LIFE.
The "Chicago Flyer," which covers
ic 1)04 miles between New York and
hicngo in twenty hours, including
ine stops, is pulled by seven huge eninos
in relays, driven by seven engiecrs
in succession. From an article
1 McClurc's Magazine we condense
ic following:
A run of less than loO miles is the
mit per day for each engine, while
iree hours of the plunging rush
ears out the strongest engineer. Pixseventy,
eighty miles 1111 hour?
hat does that mean to the man at
le throttle? It means that the six
nd a half feet drivers turn five times
very second and advance 100 feet,
ic-tic-tic, and the train has run the
mgth of New York's highest steeple,
he engineer turns his head for live
;conds to look at the gauges, and in
lat time the terrible iron creature,
utting forth the strength of a tliouind
horses, may have shot past a red
gnal with its danger warning oOO
1 ct away. Not only must he note
istantly all that is before him, the
gnals, switches, bridges, the passing
ains and the condition of the rails,
nt he must act at the same moment,
orking throttle, air brakes or reersiug
leVer, not as quick as thought
lit quicker, for there is no time to
link. His muscles must do the right
ling automatically under circumanccs
where a second is an age.
In addition to this constant mental
"iision, the engineer on this hurling
ain has to endure material discom?rt,
often bodily suffering. The air
vceps back in his face with the breath
F a hurricane, blowing suioke and
nders into his eyes. Most people
now the intense pain a cinder causes
man's eye, particularly a hot cinder,
he suffering is almost unbearable, and
ct suffering or 110 suffering, the engieer
who gets a cinder in his eye can
live 110 relief until the end of his rey.
"It seems as if nothing would
.'St my eyes, sir," said one of the new
icn alter his first week 011 the flyer.
0 wonder the eye-sight of engineers
iil rapidly ; no wonder many of them
re removed from their positions every
ay because the examining doctors find
icm unable to distinguish the signals,
he engineer suffers from the plungig
and tossing of the monster
icomotive, which bruises his whole
ady with its violent rocking, and
iuscs sharp pains in the back, parcularly
where there is any ten- !
ency to kidney trouble. One has
uly to watch these strongmen as they
umble down from their engines at
ic end of their relay, has only to ob rve
their white faces and unsteady !
lit, and see the condition of physicul !
jllapses which follows, to understand
hat it costs in vitality and grit to
live a fast engine.
Thus it is while the New Yorker
its to Chicago with scarcely more
iscomfort than if he had remained at I
ome, the same journey wears out
sven engineers, all picked men ; for
any of them who have seen years of
.tv1cc Oil trains running iuny muea
i Iiour, break down entirely when put '
|)on the llycr. So exhausted are
leseseven engineers by their compar- j
lively short relays, that they are
iliged to lay oil" entirely during the ?
Bowing day to recover from the
lock. They do not even take the |
iposite bound (Iyer back over their
retch, but return with their engines j
> their respective starting points,
rawing slower train. Thus seven
rong men do two days' work every
me the llycr runs from New York to
hicago, and seven other men do two
iys' work every time it runs back. !
ach engineer works three hours on |
ic "flyer," returns home 011 an easy !
ain. and then rests forty hours before ;
is nerves and muscles and brains are ;
I condition to repeat the operation.
Why Brutkd With Hkad to thk
,'kst.?All Christian nations (we heave)
bury their dead with the head to
ie west. There is a "why" for this, !
1st as there is for every other known
istom. As far as we have been able to !
^certain after an exhaustive search of |
II the leading authorities, our present '
istom in burial modes originated in |
primitive times, when the people believed
in corporeal resurrection. They
i had an idea that inasmuch as the star
! that heralded Christ's coming first appeared
in the east, "Judgment Day"
; would he ushered in with the Lord's
| appearance in the same direction, and
1 that when they "arose from the dead"
they would he facing Him whose mission
will he that of sounding the doom
of all earthly things.
? ?
WHAT GIRLS TALK ABOUT.
"What do girls talk about," I asked
one of them, "at their luncheons and
during calls upon each other?"
"Well," she replied, "there are usu
any two suojccis 01 conversation at
gatherings of girls, and they are about
equally prolific. One of them is the
men and the other is girls who don't
happen to he present. We discuss the
men of our acquaintance from every
possible point of view, exchange confidences
that have been made to us,
criticise them with unrestricted free- J
dom, and wonder which of them want
to marry and what styles of girls they
prefer. Sometimes we are rather sharp
in our criticisms, but on the whole the
men get out rather easily. Hut when
it comes to other girls?my !"
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that no mercy is shown.
For example, we take up some poor
unfortunate who isn't with us and go
through the pleasant operation known
as picking her to pieces. We discuss
her costumes, her complexion, her manners,
her sayings, her tastes, and by
tlie time we have got through with her
the Creator wouldn't recognize his
work. Then we start in on some other
girl."
"But have you many enemies of this
I sort?"
"Enemies? Bless your innocent
soul, I haven't an enemy in the world.
I love my neighbor as myself."
"You surely don't intend to convey
i the impression to my mind that these
| girls whose characters you discuss in
: this cannibalistic way are friends of
: yours?"
"Why certainly. For instance, on
the south side the other day we were
all taking 5 o'clock tea and having a
simply beautiful time picking Maria
| Jones to pieces. Just in the middle of J
it all Maria came in. Was she greeted
1 coldly? Well, hardly. We all em- |
braced her, gave her a seat near the |
lire and changed the subject of conver- j
! sation to Annie Smith. And how |
; Maria did go for her, to be sure!"? j
Chicago Post.
| POTTER PALMER'S TWO ENGINEERS, j
I know a good story about Potter
j Palmer which has never yet been j
published. One day Mr. Palmer went !
down into the engine room of his hotel,
; and, in some way got into a dispute 1
i with the engineer. Mr. Palmer ended ;
the matter by telling his employe to j
go to the office and get his salary and
i get out.
Now, this engineer had been in
j in Mr. Palmer's employ fifteen years,
i and knew every pipe, wire and rope
j in the big hotel. The manager of the
house, who, by the way, is now a St. :
Louis landlord, was greatly put out I
when the faithful employe told him j
! that the "old man" had "fired" him.
"Jim," said the manager, "I don't
want you to go. We would be in j
trouble for months if a new man took j
your place. I'll tell you what you do. j
Go and shave off that mighty beard j
you wear, dress up in your Sunday i
clothes, and go and strike the "old J
man" for your old job."
An hour later Mr. Palmer was ap- I
I proached by a smooth-faced, ncatly!
dressed man, who courteously inquired [
j if he needed the service of a first-class i
I engineer.
"That's just what I do," was Mr.
j Palmer's reply. "The man I've had
| has been discharged. He had been a
| long time in the place, but he got "sas[
sy." As your papers are all right, you
can try the place."
That happened years ago, but Jim
; still holds the fort. Mr. Palmer has
never regretted that he "fired" that
I "sassy Jim" and hired in his place the
; gentlemanly, smooth-faced man who
; keeps everything in such perfect run|
ning order.?Globe-Democrat.
Something to Think Ahout.?Mr. j
I Carroll I). Wright gives us some very
| interesting facts. Ife estimates?and :
I in the matter of statistics he is an ex- '
! pert?that there are in this country at
; the present time rather more than j
| twenty-two millions of persons who are |
I "engaged in gainful occupations."
j Subtracting from our sixty-five mil- i
lions most of the wives and daughters, \
all of the decrepit and aged, and all 1
the school children, it will be seen that
j we are a work-a-day nation in its
shirt-sleeves. The class of do-nothings ;
because they have too much money, '
| and the other class of do-nothings be'
cause they are born loafers, do not
count for much either in number or in- j
I fluence. But Mr. Wright adds that ;
not only is the aggregate of those who
do work on the increase, but also the
aggregate of those who are willing to
work, but can't get it. There's the
| rub. That is the reason for the existence
of labor organizations, for strikes,
and for the unceasing conflict between j
capital and labor,
i The remedy ? There is but one. ;
Skilled labor is nearly always in dei
mand. A first-class workman is seldom
out of a job. It is necessary, therefore,
for the new generation to cease dawdling,
to give up being jacks of all trades,
to give themselves vehemently to some j
special department, and to become I
masters of that. There never yet was
a time when it was not easier to earn
four dollars a day because you are j
worth it, than to earn one dollar a day
at work which a million others can do
as well as you ; and, as the New York !
UamaI/1 tl?A Sc /itnnt* nnd if
X1C1 U1U 3il V Oj lli(/ itocuii i o vivui v i
is emphatic.
A (Jiki.'.s Bookkkkhxc.?All the
girls in town have become smitten with j
a new fad, and that is the keeping of !
hooks to show exactly what they spend, 1
said a man on 'change. I got my wife ,
to bring my daughter's hook to me for
inspection. I tell you, that girl should
he teaching bookkeeping in a business 1
college instead of spending my "hardearned'"
money 011 European novelties !
and gennans. Some of the entries are j
so interesting I copied them. Here are
three or four which will give you an
idea of the rest of the entries: "One
pair kid gloves, undressed and just the ;
proper shade for my Easter suit, $3.50;"
"one box of caramels, mixed, most of
them perfectly lovely, $1"onesilver
button hook, just the sweetest thing
in the world, with my name engraved
upon it, $(5.50"gave to a beggar woman,
she was awfully dirty and had a
baby with her, lie;" "a whole lot of j
things I can't remember, $21.4(5;"
"balance 011 hand only $13.22, and
papa must give me some more money
rijjht away." There, if that is not sys- j
tematic bookkeeping I'd like to know
wluit vou'tl call it.?Republic.
A "Ooi.dkx Ki i.k" for Advkrti- ;
skrs.?"Said a gentleman, the inanag- i
ing man of a concern, 'the only rule I 1
have for determining whether or not a
paper is a desirable one for our house j
to use as an advertising medium, is to !
ascertain if the paper, upon examina- !
tion, has interest for me as as a reader, j
I go through its columns carefully and
consider what is being presented from j
month to month to its subscribers and ;
readers, and then attempt to conceive !
of the kind of people who are likely to |
take (hi; paper in order to obtain such j
information or such rending matter. I |
I believe,' be continued, 'that tbis ruse
, enables me to weed out many paperl
I which have only a free circulation and
! some of those also which do not employ
editors or which do not make any
real attempt to take high rank as periodicals.
When I find a paper that I
think I could afford to pay for as a
! subscriber on account of the matter it
, contains, I am impressed with the idea
i that it circulates among a class that I
I can afford to pay for to reach with my
; advertisement."?The Millstone.
j Lesson for Hfsinkss M en.?An nd;
vertising solicitor, one of the brightest
j members of the hustling fraternity to
which lie belongs, was met on Chestnut
street, yesterday afternoon, wear!
ing a smile of great breadth and evidently
in excellent humor with himself.
'*1 have just left the head of a big
j Front street firm," said he, "and I
| have a fair-sized contract hearing the
[ firm's signature tucked in my inside
I pocket. How do you suppose I got it?
I The old gentleman undertook to spike
my guns before I had my batteries
[ fairly opened on him, by agreeing to
j everything I said in favor of advertlsI
ing and enthusiastically attributing to
i it much more than I would dare to
j claim for it. He then went on to inform
me that his firm had no occasion
j whatever for advertising, as it was
j well-known from having advertised
extensively in its earlier days.
" 'So,' said I, 'you think that the
j advertising which you did in the early
[ days of your business is sufficient to
carry you through now ?'
" 'Undoubtedly I do,' he replied,
j " 'Well,' said I, 'will you kindly tell
i me the name of the candidate for vice
! president on the Republican ticket
j election before last?'
"He was stuck. He hesitated, stami
mered a little, and finally replied:
j 'Well, no, I can't.'
"Now, said I, do you know of any
j man who was better advertised at that
' time?'
"It fetched him."?Philadelphia Inquirer.
Keep it to Yourself.?Don't tell
your husband your every thought,
writes Mrs. P. T. Barnum. Many of
them are not worth telling?and don't
ask to know his. This is not secretivcness,
but common sense and delicacy ;
as much so as the feeling that prompts
you to say your morning prayer inaudibly
and to take your hath in private.
Do you think that any reserve is fatal
to the oneness of an ideal marriage?
Have you heard of the "atomic theory?"
How scientists tell us that all
palpable objects, even granite, are
composed of innumerable infinitesimal
atoms, which, however close they may
seem to be, never really touch each
other? This is true of the heart of a
man and a womau. They can never .
quite touch, for the most devoted husband
and wife can never sec anything
from exactly the same point of view,
or feel anything in the same manner
and degree. This is the inevitable consequence
of differing sex; but they
may come so near that nothing can
come between?so near as to support
each other and resist the world with
granite strength and solidity.
Some Moon Myths.?Many superstitious
beliefs as to the "influence" of
the moon still remain even in this late
decade of the Nineteenth century. In
some localities it is believed to be unlucky
to be empty-handed when one
first beholds the new moon ; and among
the same people having silver in the
hands or gold in the pockets, is a "good
sign." If one is about entering upon
an important undertaking he had best
defer proceedings until some time between
"new" and "full" moon.
All English-speaking people refer to
the moon as "she" and the sun as "he
in Hidoo mythology, however, the goddess
of night" is a male deity, supposed .
to be the son of the patriarch Atri, a
young man who was transferred to the
realms of space because ne was 100
good to associate with other humen beings.
The Malays, Siamese and several
classes and castes of the Chinese,
speak of the moon as a great milk
curd or butter-ball which arose from
the primeval Sea of Milk when it was
churned by the gods to procure the
much-prized "beverage of immortality."
fiST" Artificial india rubber from
cottonseed oil is one of the latest
industrial products, and claimed to
possess commercial adaptations of
peculiar practical value. The manufacture
involves a process not yet
given out to the public by the discoverer,
who states that, while experi- '
menting with cottonseed oil to produce
a varnish for paintings, he obtained
a substance entirely foreign in
its make up and properties to what
was sought?not a varnish, but rubber.
So simple is the process, as alleged,
that it is not within the protection of a
patent?the only safeguard being,
therefore, in the secrecy of the process,
by the use of which it is asserted only
fifteen per cent, is required of the
genuine rubber to produce an article
which can in no way be distinguished
from the ordinary crude india rubber,
it is said, even by experts in the handling
of the latter article. Arrangchave
been made for its extensive manufacture,
and its application to the
various purposes so long peculiar to
the natural material.?Science.
Leaving Adelaide Iielilnd.
A young man who had recently returned
from the Australian colonies to
wed the girl of his heart was reproached
the other day by his beloved for his fickleness.
"I know you say you love me very
much," she exclaimed, "but I daresay
you said just the same thing to the other
girl whom you have treated so heartlessly?poor
thing!"
"What other girl?" gasped the astonished
lover, who was conscious of an unswerving
fidelity to the fair being whom
he had ever loved."Why,
the girl in Australia," answered
the innocent. "I overhead them
say the other day that you left Adelaide
to come to me."
And it took some timo and a largo
map to convinco her that he was not a
"gay Lothario."?London Tit-Bits.
Tho ltat May lie Trained.
The rat is not popular with pet lovers
in general, hut persons who have overcome
the repugnance which our race
feels for his?Frank Buckland of England,
for instance?insist that he is,
above all other little animals, amusing
and entertaining. He is full of gambols
as a kitten and scrupulously neat in the
care of his person, washing and brushing
his fur as carefully as a cat. Though
not overdainty 111 feeding when ho ia
wild and has to live by his wits, he is
particular and no.ional to the last degree
when he is cared for and able to
choose. The rat is peculiarly umenable
to instruction, readily learns to perform
tricks of all sorts, and, what may seem
most singular in one against whom every
1 1 i l.? 1 W
mail s ilium is riuseu, uu ucwiu? .n...... j
attached to the friend who cares for him.
?Harper's Bazar.
Tho I'roimnclatlo'n of "Lleutonuut."
Old fashioned folks afloat and ashore
still like to* pronounce "lieutenant" leftenant.
Some still older folks accent
the first syllable in addition to pronouncing
it "lef." The pronunciation
leftenant, accent on second syllable, is
now chiefly confined to tho retired list
of the navy, though you find here and
there a young officer who braves wardroom
ribaldry by persisting in the almost
archaic, pronunciation.?New York Sun.