The tribune. (Beaufort, S.C.) 1874-1876, April 21, 1875, Image 1
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THE TRIBUNE.
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VOL. I.?NO. 22. BEAUFORT, S. C.. APRIL 21, 1875. $2.00 PER ANNUM.
The Lesson.
[ A beautiful answer was given by a little aj
Scotch girl. When her class at school was examiucd,
she replied to tho question, " What is ^
patience ?" " Wait a wee. an' dinna weary."]
A villago schoolroom?this tlie scene? li
Aglow with a slant sun cherry; ai
The dominie there, of youthful mien,
With tho sum of his spirit sharp and keen, si
And a class of girls in serried row; S
Borne taller, and some of stature low ; b
And some, like tho morning sun, atiro
To reach the summit of bravo desire ; r<
And, as aye, some unoo' droary ! ^
1J
"J cauna an' winna teach, an' ye Q
Bae stupid the while I query?
Nuo vision foi* ocht but vanity!" v
With thundering rap the dominie b
Out-blnrtcd, chafed by a listless girl, li
. Whose only caro seemed to smooth and twirl
Her apron streamers. " Will onio lass 11
Mali' nnswer in a' this glaikit class
The dominie eighed aweary.
"Oli, av," said a little 0110, " I can tell."
"Weol, cat wi't, then, my de&rio"? 0
And the frown from the master's forehead fell, rc
For the sweetest girl in tho school was Nell? H)
' I want ye to show mo tho meaning plain 8j
O' patience; sin' ow'r an' ow'r again jJ
I've pat it this day S" Then tho little maid,
With & roguish twinkle, soberly said ; ^
" Wait a wee, an' dinna weary." e;
?Mahy B. Dodge.
\*
JERltY, THE MISER.
It was a cobbler's shop, breaking the
row of small private houses in a shabby b
suburban street. How it came there t]
- nobody knew. What is more, nobody w
cared. h
Near the door, on this particular afternoon,
were two females, the hue elder- tt
ly, the other graceful and young; both
iu tho deepest mourning. In front of *t
it were two Loudon street Arabs, as rag- _
ged as mirthful; before it stood the
oddest beiug imaginable?a little old e4
man, about four feet high, with a not ^
over-clean face, iron-gray liair, on which
l 1 * - " ' U
xcnteu u worn Hiiin cap, snaggy brows,
rather bow legs, and a dirty leathern ^
apron. In irate tones, ho was addressing
boys: ^
*' Oil with you, you young rascals !. If _
you come playing your hopsootch and
Sally-come-ups before my window again, ^
I'll flay you alive."
Before the muscular fists the boys 0]
fled,' hurling book derision. "Well done, CJ
Jerry?old .Terry the miser! Yah 1"
The cobbler?for he hardly merited n
the more emphatic title of shoemaker? yi
paid no heed, but, glancing sharply up a]
from his bent brows at the two women,
asked: "And what may you want?"
"We?wo see," began the younger,
looking timidly towards the square card -y
in the window, "you have apartments
to let."
" No, I've rooms?rooms. I don't e,
know nothing of 'apartments;' I ain't
up to them?nor the rooms ain't neither,
Do you want to see 'em?" 1.
" We did wish." ai
"All right; come along!"?and tho w
little man swung round on his heel.
The two women, hesitating, looked at
one another.
"We had better see them, mother,"
said the younger, with a wan smile of w
encouragement. " His bark may bo
worse than his bite, and all the other w
places are so dear."
Following the cobbler through the c!
fin op, lie led them up stairs to the rooms.
There were two, communicating by a ~
door with evch other; they were poorly '
furnished, but clean. As tho women "
looked at them, the cobbler stared at
them siloutly. ?(
"Well," he asked, "what do you
think of them ?" f
"They will do very well," answered "
the widow. " It's?only?the price 1"
" Six shillings a week?in advance." w
"Six shillings !" ejaculated the girl.
" Do you think it too much f" Jc
" On the contrary, it Is cheap." b
" You know a lot of the world to say w
that. How do you know I shan't clap w
on another shilling?" J1
"I don't; but I should not fancy you "
would." c<
" About references"? began the r<
widow.
" Don't want any?yon pay in ad- w
vance; and as, whenever you leave the
house, it must bo through tho shop, pi
you can't w<rll take the furniture without "
my knowing. Is it settled ?" ct
" If you please; hero is tho first week's pi
rent."
The cobbler took it, scrawled out ft re- w
ceipt, nodded, and left his lodgers to w
themselves. Seated again on his bench,
meditatively, lie scratched his grizzled tr
chin, and contemplated tho six coins in | y<
ills horny palm.
" Two bobs n week lost to-day 1" he I'
remarked. " Jerry, you miBer, how ci
could you do it i" si
The cobbler's lodgers proved very m
qufet. 'They did not interfere with their it
landlord, and he, apparently, did not in- pi
terfere with thein. His rout was paid to m
the day.
J^Thoy rarely spoke, save exchanging tho ft
ordinary morning and evening salutu- ir.
tions wneh the daughter went through 3<
tho shop. The mother never left tho
house. Hut Jerry, like most cobblers, s]
was a man of observation, and he mode ci
such comments as the following : g
"She's ft beauty, she is; but awful g
white and sad. It's my opinion it's hard t1
times with them up stairs." ti
Then, when the girl went out earlier tl
and came home later, ever with a sadder, I
more depressed expression, he said : h
"I'll tell you what it is, Jerry; she's
seeking after work, and doesn't get it!" a
One evening, a fow weeks after Mrs. p
Woston and her daughter rented tho
cobbler's npartmonts, tlio latter entered
t he shop later than usual. p
The yellow lamp was flaring dismally
ud .Terry, a boot on his knee, was har
t work. After the customary salutation
lio girl was passing 011, when the col
ler's voice arrested her.
" I say, your mother's ill, ain't she ?
e asked, nursing his kneo with hot]
rms.
' Yes, Mi*. Crayshaw, I am sorry t
iy she has been for some while ailing
lie?she"? and the young voice trexi
led with tears?" is very sick."
" Then you must give her lots to eat,
?sponded Jerry, staring out of the win
ow. " The best thing for weak peopl
i a nice fowl and a bottle of wine. Wh,
on't you give them liorf"
" I wish I was able, or even to pre
ide her less expensive dainties; butut"?
aifcl the tears fell fast? " I can
ot."
" Ah, that's the fault, you see, of lia\
lg no money. Good evoniug."
He resumed his work, and tho girl
jarcely cheered by this little episode.
rent, with a heavy heart, up stairs.
Mrs. Weston was so ill, she was lvin
ii her bed. Tho caudle was in tli
iom, and in tlio parlor grate burnt a fe'
parks of lire, over which was a smn
mice pan. On the table was a tea-1 raj
ad a portion of a previous day's loaf
b was such a depressing welcome hom
fter the weary, weary day, that wit!
ifficulty tho poor girl could control he
motion.
"Is that you, Clare?" inquired th
idow's feeble voice.
"Yes, mother."
" Come to me, my child."
Clare pressed her white hands to he
osom, made an effort, aud passed iut
re bedroom. But tho mother's firs
ords beat down all her noble-souloi
eroio self-repression.
" Clare, dear, you had better succes
>-day ?"
The girl dropped on a chair, and bury
lg her face on the coverlet, burst into
aroxysm of weeping.
"No, mother," she sobbed, liysteri
illy. " It's the same old, old story ;
in get nothing. What shall wo do ?
5el heart-broken."
"Clare, Clare, my child," ejacnlate*
10 mother, fondly embracing her, " d
ot you give way ! What, indeed, wi]
ecome' of us then ? My brave, brav
irl, do not weep thus !"
" Pray let me; mother ; I shall be bel
ir after it."
.She, apparently, was right, for at th
ad of a few moments she looked u;
ilmcr ; her tears ceased.
" There," she smiled ; " I am bette
ow. '' It's good to give way at times
ou know. At least, one can't help il
ad our lot is so hard ; but we shall gc
Bed to it."
" Hard ! It breaks my heart to con
miplate it when I think of you, Clare
irhut a different future did I and you
ither intend you, love! But who couli
nogiuo such a villain as John Burg
rer existed?"
" Ab, me?all, mo! to look round n
lis place, and remember the pleasan
oino which once was ours ! Now, w
e alone, and not a singlo friend in th
orhl."
"Not one ! Oh, yes, mother, believ
e, one 1" cried the girl, quickly. " H
^Gilbert?will bo true?trust me, h
ill."
"Why then, Clare, lias ho no
ritten?"
"I do not know?I cannot tell," ej
aimed the daughter, piteously; "bui
li, pray, pray, mother, do not take tliu
ope from me! Let mo believe i
rilbert. It is my only support in thi
itter misery 1"
The widow, touched with a pleadin
juntonance, was about to reply, when
tterrupting herself, she said: "Clare
hear some one in the parlor. See wli
is, dear."
The girl obeyed, and started at th
eird scene she beheld.
Seated before the grate, on a thre<
gged stool, was the cobbler, yet i
ather apron and cap. On his knee
as a bellows, which ho was work in
ifli oAiianmiiiof/i air* II
WM vwwv?iwM?aw\7 nnui, V lllCilLJ V
lastor of the art, sending the coals iut
right blazes that threw flashes of luri
)lor over the quaint flguro and th
>oin.
Upon hearing Clare, he turned, ulraoe
ith a snarl.
"How do you expect to t>oil a sau?f
m with such a fire as this?" ho growletl
Never was hatter as mad as yon, I'd
irtain. Now, look at that; ain't it
icture?"
Clare did look, and saw that not onl
ere the coals increased, but that the;
ere not from their own store.
"It is quite cheering," she managei
? say, " but?but I fear, Mr. Crayshaw
iu have been robbing yourself."
"Itobbing myself??me??not a bit
m a miser. .Didn't you here the boy
dl mo so?Jerry, the miser?" h
lapped. "I'd robanybody sooner thai
lyself. I am a miser, and I'm proud o
Some men are called painter am
act. Well, I'm called cobbler am
??
" Really L" said Clare, a little amused
little frightened, looking at the glow
ig cools;' 'I should have scarcely though
"That shows your ignorance," re
londed Jerry. "Can't you see, b
limitation, it s cheaper to keep up on
ood tire than two small ones? so I'r
oing to sit by yours. Also, olubbiuj
vo persons' tea together is cheaper thai
iking it alone. It makes 'only one fo
io pot * necessary. You percuive, now
am a miser. I want to havo my te
ere."
Clare looked at the table; upon it wa
now loaf, fresh butter, eggs, and n nea
ackage of tea.
" Oh, Mr. C rajah aw "? sho began.
"Are yon going to refuse?" he snap
cd. " ^Mayn't I havo tea ?"
, j "How could I refuse?" slio begun,
1 I wlieu he interrupted by:
, i " Then don't lone time. See to the
- kettle. I'll boil tho eggs."
| Similar behavior from some people
' ! might have given offense, but there was
li such a quaint, odd way about Jerry that
| robbed it of that power. He was so old,
0 | and snapped and snarled as if really his
, ! suggestion was the result of deep-rooted
[1 j meanness, instead of the contrary. Mrs.
j Weston did make some demur, but Jerry
? ; shut her up at once.
"I 6ee. She's frightened at yojir
e taking tea with such a fascinating young
y fellow as lam,", he said. "Leuvo tho
door ajar, then the old lady can take a
squint at us now and then, and join the
_ talk. I'm a wild young sprig, I con_
fess."
Clare could not refrain from bursting
r_ into a merry peal of laughter. Jerry's
| gray eyes* iwiuaiea witu aengnt uncler
[ i liis shaggy brows as he looked up at her.
( Well, the two bustled about, the cob'
| bier certainly the briskest, until, finally,
p I they were seated at a very comfortable
0 ' tea. During the meal, Mrs. Weston
iV | deemed it right to inform their new
II ! friend of something of their history.
r In her husband's lifetime they had
f* been well-to-do. At his death they
q yet could have lived comfortably, had
h not a Mr. John Burgo suddenly brought
ir heavy claims on the dead man's property.
"1 never quite understood what it was
e ?I only know he must have been paid,"
said the widow, dolorously. " But wo
hadn't some papers we ought to have
had to prove it. So ho took from us
ir every penny, and left us as you now
0 see 1"
"A confounded villain!" exclaimed
,| Jerry, cracking Iris egg with a bowl of a
spoon, as if it had been Mr. John Burgo's
3 bald head he had got under it.
" Then all our friends deserted us "?
"Except one," broke in Clare, with
heightened color, which was not un11
noticed by the cobbler.
"But one as yet," added the widow.
:jl " He is a gentleman, Mr. Crayshaw,
T who?who was once a great friend of my
daughter's. He was in Australia at the
. time of our trouble, and though we
wroto to tell him, we have not heard a
9 syllable since. You know the world, Mr.
Mr. Crayshaw!"
0 "Ido, ma'am !" answered Jerry, emphatically;
" and I know it's a sight betr
ter than people would try to make it."
"Ah!" cried Clare, gratefully, her
e face radiant, as involuntarily she exteudP
ed her hand, " you think he may be
true ?"
r " He'd be the greatest villain under
' the sim if he were not, my dear!" said
1 the old man, cheerily ; adding to him
- sen: i'oor cliild?poor child; she,
then, has to leam that lovers' vows are
J" easier broken than shoestrings, and
' thought about as little 1"
' After this, still protesting it was cheaper
for him, as a miser, to supply Mrs.
? Weston's tire than burn one of his own,
, he frequently passed his evenings with
; them. He also procured Clare some
shoe-binding to do, which, though
0 hard and difficult work, was something.
0 At the end of the week, he was grimacing
at a boy through the boots in the
0 window, when Cloro came to pay tho
e rent.
o " Take it away," ho said; " let it stand
over."
t "Oh, we could not think of that!" began
the girl. " We were going to ask
- you if you would not mind a portion of
it being left for next"?
t "Take it away !" reiterated Jerry, getii
ting into a fury ; "I won't touch a farths
I ing ! I like being a creditor?for I can
charge interest !"
g '' This kindness, after all you have
i? don<?!" sobbed Clare, her tears falling.
> "Go away!" roared Jerry ; "I ain't
O going to have a scene here?they'll be
taking me up for assault and battery
o next 1 Be oil, and I'll bo up to tea in
live minutes."
i- " Bless your generous heart, which no
11 assumed roughness can hide!" exclaims
ed Clsiro, gratefully, as she hurried from
f? the Rhop.
11 Bitting down, Jerry bent his head
0 on the counter, and bright tears trickled
J from his eyes into the boot on his hip.
e " Poor thing?poor thing 1" he murmured;
" she's yet to learn that vows
it are broken easier than shoestrings,
and "?
i- He was interrupted by the shop door
[. opening. Looking up, lie found before
a him a tall, well dressed man, with a
a bronzed face and thick beard and mustache.
Jerry started,
y "Pardon iny iutrudiug," said the
f stranger; " but can you give me the address
of Mrs. Weston ami her daughter ;
1 I heard they were living somewhere in
, this street ?"
"No!" said Jerry. " What do you
want with 'em ?"
s "Thev are friends of mine."
0 " Bwells such as you don't often, I
ii should think, lxavo friends in this neiglxf
borliood."
;1 i "In tholand I came from, friend, the
1 ! rank is not the guinea'sstamo. lint T'll
seek elsewhere."
1, " Stay a moment; I'll inquire."
- Jerry, carefully closing the door bot
hind him, Hat down on the stairs and enjoyed
a muto chuckle, fearfully apopleci
tic in character. On tho landing ho
y repeated it, with much movement of
e the legs. Then ho entered his lodgers'
a parlor.
of Dropping into the chair placed ready
n for him by the Are, rubbing his knees,
r his face one beaming smile, he cried:
-, " Does any one believe in man ! I don't!
a Does any one believe in Australian golddigger*
( I don't ! Does any one bes
lieve in lovers keeping their vows ? Lor'
,t bless you, I don't?not a syllable I"
Then, turning abruptly to the astonished
women, ho proceeded: "Look here;
?- I'll give you a riddle. Suppose a certain
Australian should come to England;
suppose he should como to me; supposing
he should come iuto this room, how
would a certain party behave f Would ,
slio laugh ? Would she faint {"
" Oh, mother !" cried Clare, starting
i up; " I know what he means. It is Gil- ,
i bert !"
1 " My dear, reflect," interrupted the ,
i j widow, restruiniug her. ,
j " Yes, she's right 1" exclaimed Jerry, j
with a caper. " It's Gilbert?Gill>ert!" ]
j Flying to the door, almost precipitat
J ing himself over tho balustrade, he ,
1 shouted: " You Australian, come up ! ;
' You nugget of fidelity, come here 1" :
i I There was the bang of a door, a firm, j
nipid tread on the stairs, and tho ,
bearded stranger shot past Jerry into
the room. j
"Clare?my poor, poor Clare!" ho
dried. ,
"Gilbert !" r.ho ejaculated, rushing ,
into his arms. j
The cobbler, after another caper, dis- ;
erectly retired to his shop, and let off his j
superhuman excitement by a charge at (
the boys in the street. ,
t Gilbert Feruside, a rich Australian ,
?Jattle-owner, proved indeed a nugget of
fidelity. There was a grand wedding, j
to which Jerry was asked, but he j
answered ho was far too wise a man to
make himself uncomfortable. Indeed.
lie sent tin bride n pretty gold bracelet
as bis wedding gift?a present affection- ,
atoly treasured by Clare.
Years after, the young wife, in her
home at the antipodes, received the fol- ^
lowing characteristic letter:
" My Deah?While writing this I'm '
going off. Wheu you get it, I shall have I
left. So this is to say good-bye. Bless 1
vou ! I am a kiuless old man, and, you '
know, a miser; but I'm not going to give {
my money to you. What would ?1,000 ]
be to your Australiau digger ? A drop :
iu the ocean. Besides, you can do with- 1
out it. No; it's going to the hospital <
for children, to which I have long been 1
nu unknown subscriber. Good-bye. 1
Bless you?bless you all! Your old 1
fricud, 1
" Jerry, Cobbler axd Miser."
That letter, too, was treasured; and
m the heart of the bright, cheerful home, (
iu the wealthy laud, " Jerry, the Miser,"
was ever held in choerful memory. j
1
The Emotions of a Pauper. i
It lias been noted that a certain des"" perate,
but calm, stubborn and sullen
air of resignation appeared to settle
upon paupers who have been for any
length of time attached to couuty poorhouses.
A man ouce a pauper, seems
scarcely ever to rise above the humiliating
position and settles down to it, as if
he had gone contentedly ' * over the hills
to the poorhousc," and had lost all ambition
to go beyond it. Recently, a ,
Chicago paper, desiring to know some- ,
thing of the interior of the poorli?use j
of Cook county, sent up a reporter, as a ,
county-house vagrant, and ho was there .
! threo days. In an article on the subject (
he says:
It is curious to reflect upon how easily j
; one may be influenced by his surround- .
; ings. For that matter, wo aro all more ^
: or less creatures of circumstances, grow- (
j ing up according to tlio character of our ,
i birth-place in life. But, even after liavj
ing become thorouglily accustomed to ,
I ami laeutinea witii our station unci mode (
of living, a change of place and associa- .
j tion will eventually alter our whole prin- (
i ciple of action, our ideas, and our char[
acter. So frail is the human mind ! ,
Living among paupers during three days,
[ imbibing their sentiments, sharing to j
! the full their discomforts and their sor- ,
i rows, I began almost imperceptibly to j
i think of myself as really one of them. (
, At first I had been obliged to exert my- ,
j self to act my part; gradually the task j
became easier; till, finally, I found my- ]
j self almost wondering whether I had ]
I ever been anything elso. What was this .
1 powerful yet slender bond winch united (
; me to the outer world ? How frail the ,
; barrier, undistinguishable to any save
j myself, which separated me from these
wretched outcasts about me! It seemed
as if the slightest of agencies might
snap them both asunder, and leave me 1
a pauper in truth. Hearing the tyranni- ]
| cm voice oi tne Doss pauper," 1 mvol- J
j untarily shrunk hack with a shadow of *
! tho torror which, hohl my associates. I '
j knew, of course, that I need have no 1
; apprehension, ami that a motion from
me would transfer me hack to tho world.
Yet, s?ch was tho influence of surroundings,
that T was subject to tho emotions
I have described.
Estimates and Cost of Public Works.
The canal question before the New
; York Legislature has called attention to
the cost of public works. To show tliat
tho actual cost of all great works, not
only in New York, but in other States,
has always been enormously in excess of
the original estimates, Mr. Alvord asserted
that the original estimate for the
Erie canal enlargement was $12,000,000
and the actual cost $14,000,000; that tho
original estimate for tho Cliamplain
canal was $871,000, and tho actual cost
$4 ,000,000; that tho original estimates ,
for nil flin f-Unfo nnnnlc. aon Ann AAA
vt.num worn t\nnFy\i\r\j
and tlio actual coat $72,000,000. This is
a striking exhibit, and its force, says a ,
prominent city papor, is not much' improred
by some inaccuracy in the figures. ]
A Philadelphia woman remarks in the
J'rcxs : Where are tlio poor who seek ]
employment ? Vainly have I searched ]
for a fortnight for a woman willing to go t
eighteen miles into tho country, at high i
wages, to live in a comfortable, warm n
( kitchen, with plenty of food and kind 1
j treatment, and cook for a small family, f.
1 living her duty as a faithful servant. u
FRAUDS AXD FARMERS.
A Hint Tor iho (irnnRcrv to AVork Upon?
Swindle* lu the Air.
An easy but enviable immortality
vwaits that grange or farmers' onion
which will successfully divert the agricultural
attention from the mighty miseries
of railroad monopoly to the petty
frauds wliicli iufebt our farmers' lives
like vermin in a beggar's gaberdine.
The farmer is more exposed to petty
dwindling aud is more swindled in petty
ways than auy other class in our communities.
This proceeds partly from his
isolation and the unsophisticatedue s in
leparable from that condition; but it is
partly duo also to an impatience of slow
returns and a believe m short-cuts to
wealth. Commonly the farmer takes
only one paper, a woekly; often he takes
none. In the former case ho religiously
reads every line, advertisements and all.
New seeds that yield impossibly, new
breeds of stock and fowls, new varieties
of fruit, miraculous potatoes, oats which'
stand like bean poles and quiver with
Ejoldeu harvests, corn which produces
tifty ears to the stalk?he hears of all
these wealth-bringing prodigies, he sees
them cortilled to in tho most authentic
way, he believes in them implicitly and
invests in them extravagantly.
If the farmer takes no paper at all,
and conducts liis affair; entirely by the
unaided force of natural talout, him the
"agent" spies out, lies iu wait for,
pounces upon, and grows fat by dospoilLug.
Say tho agent is a fruit peddler: he
exliibits his magnificently colored lithographs
of impossible peaches, apples
and pears, or goes around with carpetbags
tilled with samples of hypertrophied
California fruit preserved in spirits to
point his moral and adorn his tale. The
farmer buys strawberry plants by sample
and finds ho has secured a fine growing
crop of clover roots. We have known
in agent, says the New York World, to
make a clover living by going round the
country selling plauts of that pretty
solanaqoous herb,the Physalih Alkekr.ngi,
as a new and valuable variety of
wiuter-ripening cherry.
Even if the farmer escapes being victimised
by the agent and tho advertisement,
he is still liable to be caught by
the insidious wiles of the local Congressman
and the deceitful seed packages of
the Agricultural bureau. One cannot
always be upon thoonf t'ire,and imagine
the anguishes whicn await the farmer
who, going away from home upon busi
ness, finds on returning that liis son has
doctored the sheep or the cows according
to recipes found in the agricultural
report, and his wife has sowed her
flower beds with seeds from Commissioner
Watts !
It occurs to us that the granges have
here a wide field for the exercise of a
very signal usefulness. Here are abuses
which they can successfully attack, and
which the whole country will thank them
for abating. If they will ferret out these
fraudulent agents and swindling advertisement
and expose them upon all occasions,
they will remit a good many
sturdy knaves to honest industry while
saving the farmers an annual sum of
money absolutely lost, the aggregate of
which would suffice to endow half a
iozen colleges upon the most liberal
scale.
If in addition to hunting down individual
swindles the granges should make
iletermined war upon the ignorance
which renders such swindling prosperous,
they will be doing a work of nation
ill education quite out of the reach of
school boards and college corporations.
It is probable that there is nothing which
the collective American people need so
urgently to learn as tho simple fact that,
two and two making four, two and two
cannot make five at any time, in any
place, nor under any conceivable circumstances.
The collective peoplo can only
learn this by each person realizing it for
himself individually. Ignorance of this
principle underlies pretty much all misa.
:-.i ?1 ? 1 ? ?"
umvcnt iiuoiiuuii) puAUiuu, XllUllUy IU) WC11
is agricultural.
Tho Overcrowded Cities.
There is hardly a city in the United
States which does not contain more peoplo
than can get a fair, honest living, by
labor or trade, in the best times. When
times of business depression come, like
those through which we have passed,
and are passing, there is a large class
that must be helped, to keep them from
cruel suffering. Still the cities grow,
while whole regions of tho country?
especially its older portions?are depopulated
year by year. Yet the fact is
[latent to-day that the only prosperous
class is the agricultural. Wo have now
tho anomaly of thrifty faimers and
starving tradesmen. The agricultural
class of tho West are prosperous. They
had a good crop last year, and havo received
good priees for all their products;
and while the cities are in trouble, and
manufactories are running on half time,
or not running at all, the Wostem farmer
lias money in his pocket, and a ready
market for everything he has to soil.
Tho country must bo fed, and ho feeds
it. Tho citv family mav do without new
clothes, and a thousand luxurious appli- I
ances, but it must have bread and meat. ;
Tliero is nothing that can prevent tho !
steady prosperity of the American
farmer but tho combinations and "cor
uers " of middle-men, that force unnatural
conditions upon tho finances and
markets of the country.
Tho weather, unhappy man, is now
pleasant enough for you to beat the cariets.
In tho morning when you get
rp and see your wifo flying around the
oom with a handkerchief on her head,
i tack hammer in her hand, and tiro in
ler eye, you want to climb iuto your
garments and drop out of tho window
uid make tracks for the olfioo.
Items of Interest. ,
In Japan wheat is sown in November
in drills sixteen inches apart, and one
and a quarter bushel of seed to the acre.
Arsene Houssaye asks: Which is
worth most in the world, the approval
of your own conscience or of public
opinion f
It is said that nothing will cure a
poet's affection for his idol sooner than
to oatch her at the dinner table excava
ting the kernel of a hickory nut with a
hairpin.
Dean Swift said: " It is with narrow
souled people as it is with narrownecked
bottles; the less they have in
them the more noise they make in pouring
it out.
A Southern citizen who bore the rank
of general in the Confederate service recently
joined the United States army in
New Orleans, and to-day carries a musket
a3 a private soldier.
A new plan for steamship looomotion
is suggested in providing screw propellers
at each end of the vessel. One of
them'is thus constantly in the water, no
matter how rongh it may bo.
Forty-eight savings bonks in the State
of New York report a total of unclaimed
deposits amounting to $845,844.72, of
which $316,656.60 has remained unclaimed
for over twenty years.
It is said that the well hred ladies of
Paris never by any ohanoe are seen wearing
diamonds in the daytime. A. great
many American ladies never offend good
taste by wearing them. They cannot
afford to.
" Numbers is what does the business,"
shouted a man whD lives on Mechanic
street. " When my wife is alone I can
reason with her and rati things to suit
myself, bat when her mother is around,
I am not even a stockholder in the concern."
The Grangers of California have formed
a chartered business association, with a
capital of $1,000,000, to deal in all kinds
of agricultural produce, live stock and
general merchandise, to charter and load
vessels, and to ahip grain to foreign
countries.
A. Providence woman who had secured
a good place to see the St. Patrick
procession, reported to a policemen
that she had lost her child, and hesought
him to find it, as she did not dare
to go in search of it lest she should
** lose her place."
A Montreal man sues a grocer for obtaining
three dollars and fifty cents of
him on false pretenses, the grocer having
sold him seven dollars and ten cents
worth of butter, which the buyer alleges
shrunk fifty per cent, when warm, on account
of snow or ice in it.
A horrible piece of cruelty was perpetrated
at Girsrd, Pa. Some miscreants
entered the barnyard of a farmer, where
a young calf was tied to a stake, and deliberately
cut the animal in two, running
away with the hindquarters. When
found the forequartara were still alive.
Mrs. Oliver Pertr Rioe, of Indian
apolis, has received from George H.
Pendleton a legal opinion that she is
heir to an estate worth $68,000,000.
The estate lies in Alleghany oonnty, Pa.,
and its heirship has been traced in direct
li'nn fn Hip lafp Dulpnn "Rif/ihiA fpflipr nf
Mrs. Bine.
A young wife in Pottawatomie county,
Iowa, awoke about midnight and asked
her husband a question. Receiving no
answer, she placed her hand on his head
to awake him and found him oold. . He
was dead. When he retired that evening
ho was in exoellent spirits and apparent
health.
An Absent Minded Woman.
A funny incident, which lately oocured
in the gas-office in Chicago, is described
by the Intcr-Ocean: The wife of a
member of the Illinois Senate entered to
pay her bill, carrying her portemonnaie,
as was her custom, in her right hand.
Having oocamon to write her signature,
she changed her pocket-book to her left
hand, then started to go out. Noticing
that her right was empty, she missed her
I pocket-book, and turned to a rough-looking
individual who had been standing
by meantime, exclaimed angrily^: " I'll
thank yon for my pocket-book, sir."
Two or three of the bookkeepers
rushed out, expecting to Bee the man try
to escape, but ho stood still and calmly
answereed : "I haven't it, ma'am."
" You certainly have; I laid it down a
moment ago here, and you are the only
person who could have taken it."
" I beg your pardon, ma'am," said
the stranger, "but I am no thief. I
have not got your pocket-book."
"I'll have you arrested and searched,"
i cried tho irate lady. "As you please,"
j responded the man.
And as the madamo tried to open
{ tho door to call a policeman, she dis!
covered her puree in her left hand. The
, stranger smilingly listened to a profuse
and prolonged anolocw.
S "Orf *
The Boys.
Thuycidades Brown, a boy of promise,
was compellcxl to stay at home from
scliool for a few days on acoount of a
sevoro oold. Neddio Preston, one of
his mates, called on him and endeavored
to cheer him up. Ho said: "I know
how 'tis, Gid; when a fellow gits aiok
he's mighty loneaome, and likes to have
his chums drop in on him." "Lonesome
1" and Thuyoidades reached under
his pillow and drew forth three of those
blood-curdling romances,bound in yellow
paper and published by that friend of
American youth, the dime novel man?
"Lonesome? Not much! The fire'was
just beginning to crackle nicely under
Bowie-Knife Bill when you came in, and
11 had to drop it."