The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, March 02, 1886, Image 2
A CHILD AN1) A WASP.
|
U Bit Mother Telia tlie Norn? to Let Him
Have It and He Geta It "
'
Among tho passengers on the St.
Louis express on the Erie Railway, between
Port Jervis anil Jersey City, Friday
morning, was a very much overdressed
woman, accompanied by a bright
looking Irish nurse gill, who had charge
of a self-willed, tryannical two-year old
boy, of whom the over-dressed woman
was plainly the mother. The mother
occupied a seat by herself. The nurse
and child were in the seat immediately
in front of her. The child irave such
frequent exhibitions of temper and kept
the car filled with such vicious yells and
shrieks, that there was a general leeling
of savage indignation among the passengers.
Although he time and again
spat in his nurse's face, and scratched
her hands until the blood came, and tore
i at her hair and bonnet, she bore with
him patiently. The indignation of the
passengers was made the greater because
the child's mother made no effort to cor.
rect or quiet hini, but, on the contrary,
sharply chided the nurse whenever she
manifested any firmness. "Whatever the
boy yelped for, the mother's cry was,
y' uniformly,
V "Let him have it, 3Iarv.
mi By the time the train passed Turners
j-V. the feelings of the passengers had been
wrought up to the boiling point. The
remark was made audibly here and there
'that it Avould be worth paying for to
have the young one chucked out of the
window." The hopeful's mother was not
moved by the very evident annoyance
the passengers felt, and at last fixed herself
down in her scat for a comfortable
. nap. The child had just slapped the
nurse's face for the hundredth time and
was preparing for a fresh attack, when
a wasp came from somewhere in the car
and flew against the window of the
nurse's scat. The boy at once made a
dive for the wasp as it struggled upward
on the glass. The nurse quietly caught
his hand and said to him coaxingly:
"Harry musn't touch! Bug will bite
Harry!"
Harry gave a savage yell and began to
kick and slap the nurse. The mother
awoke from her nap. She heard her
son's screams and without lifting her
head or opening her eyes she cried out
sharply to the nurse;
"Why Avill you tease that child so,
Mary? Let him have it at once."
Mary let go of Harry. She settled
back in her seat with an air of resignation,
but there was a sparkle in her eye.
The boy clutched at the wasp and finally
caught it. The yell that- followed caused
joy to the entire car, for every eye was
on the boy. The mother awoke
again.
"Mary," she cried, "let him have it?"
Mary turned calmly in her seat, and
with a wicked twinkle in licr eye t?:iid:
"Sure, he's got it, mum!"
This brought the car down. Every
one in it roared. The child's mother
rose up in her seat with a jerk. When
she learned what the matter was she
pulled her boy over the back of the seat
and awoke some sympathy for him by
laying him across her knee and warming
him nicely. In ten minutes he was as
quiet and meek as a lamb, and he never
opened his head again until the train
reached Jersey City.?N. Y. Sun.
Wives and Wives.
Considerable light is being thrown
from Chicago upon the wives of that
city and their capacities. One reporter
pays a tribute to "good" wives and
shows that theie is at least one sphere of
woman's usefulness that is not overdone.
The reporter started out with the commendable
purpose of finding out on
what wages the artisan could live and
lay up something for a rainy day. lie
had not gone far before he found that
it was not a question of wages, but of
wives. A stained irlass workman, who
earns $3/5 a week and has a wife and
four children saves nothing:. "It costs
me $30 a month for rent and $20 a week
to set my table. We live well but save
nothing," lie said. It needs no reporter
to tell us that that man is an American.
"We live well but save nothing'' is as
trustworthy lor identification as his
family tree would be. A German chairmaker
on $12 a week also had four children.
His family have lots to eat and
bis children h ve never been sick a
day. In the five years since his marriage
this man has almost paid for a
$1500 house and lot, and now that he
pays no liousc rent he lays aside $5 a
week. A tinner earning $10.50 a week,
with two children, saves $5 of it; a man
on $21 a week, with nine children and
a brother-in-law to support, has paid
for a house since liis marriage; and a
carpenter earning $3 a day supports
three children and saves $0 a week.
But every one of these men chanted the
praises of "a good wife." Most of them
knew little about their expenses, except
that they carried home their money on
Saturday night and cannot tell where
the Ravings come from. The man who
lives well but saves nothing naturally
said nothing about his wife.?Springfield
liepuhlican.
Where She W ished to be Buried.
She
was a remarkably sensible young
lady who made the request of her friends
that after her decease she should not be
buried by the side of a brook, where babbling
lovers would wake her from her
dreams; nor in any grand cemetry,
where sight-seers, coining over epitaphs,
inisrht distrar.f. bor Hut
L.PWW ..im ?v??J W
lake her last sleep under the counter of
i-ome merchant who did not advertise in
'he newspapers. There, she said, was to
be found peaco surpassing all understanding?a
depth of quiet slumber, on
which neither the sound of the buoyant
... foot of youth nor the weary shuffle of
>ld age would ever intrude.?Albany
{Ga.) News.
Mr. Wm, Bender, of Cincinnati,
has been sent to a sanitarium because
of the little eccentricity of throwing in
;i the fire a package containing over
: $40,000 in Government bond8. William
had been on a prolonged bonder, he
/ancied some of his relations were seek,n8
his weahh; hence he is now in
&#:. bonds as a lunatic.
Fas h wing nuehlne i* not vvhat it seem?.
?fcV' 'tSK^'ST^
CHILD AND THE SNOWFLAKES.
And the Days Went On and tbo Mgh
Cnme. .
[From tbo Detroit Free Frees.]
One day us she stood at the -window
watching the busy street and wonderinj
why she alono of all children was crip
pled and thin and weak, a snowflak
came sailing down through the Decern
bcrsky, paused a moment at the windov
and then crept in at a broken pane an<
rested on her wasted hand. The cliih
smiled and was glad, and said:
"Did you pity me that you came t<
see me?"
4,I have only pity for the poor am
helpless," replied the snowtlake.
"Where are your companions?"
"They will be here. 1 had a rac
with them and I reached earth lirst. '
"It was so good of you to come ii
and see me," whispered the child. "I)<
you know that I am lame and ill, an<
that no one loves me; All the sunshin
and the happiness seems for others ?al
the suffering and the shadows for mc
I wish I had been a snowtlake. It mus
be so jolly to go roving about as?"
The snowtlake had disappeared, an<
in its place was a tiny drop of water
The child- was grieved, and she wep
that hei poor ray of sunshine had beei
dimmed almost as it reached her. Bu
other Hakes came and danced befor
the window and made merry and callc<
to her :
"Come and be merry with \is! 1
child should not wee]) and grieve."
"But I have no friends," she an
swcrcd.
"Then the snowflakes will be you
friends. Almost every day we will com
to talk to you."
"Do you know of ITcaven?" whisperc<
the child as she dried her tears.
"It is a long, long way off," was til
reply.
"Would they let a crippled girl lik
me in there?"
"As surely as you reach the gates o
| pearl. Heaven is for sucli as you."
' When may I go? Earth has onl;
misery for me."
4'When the time is come we wil
whisper at your window. The night i
coming on and we must go. I?c o
good cheer, for we will surely com
again."
And the days went on and on, and th
nights came and went, and the chil<
grieved and wept because the snowflake
did not come to tell her. Millions o
them floated in the air. and the win*
drove them in millions up and down th
streets, but never a one came to th
broken pane. One day. when the child'
great blue eyes had scarcely been fre
of tears?when her heart ached as neve
before?when there was a fierce struggl
to cast otV the emaciated, deformed bod;
as one might throw away n garmenton
this dnv as the bleak winter after
noon was fading to dusk, there was
tapping at the window-pane. The eliih
neard the sounds with beating heart, an<
as she dragged herself to the windov
she cried out in exultation :
"Oh ! it is the snowllakcs com
again! You are here to tell me o
Heaven!"
4'Yes,"they whispered.
"And God will take me?"
i/TT _ 1 ? * ?
- ne nus sent ior you."
"Wait?wait! I will go with you!
But the snowllakes whispered : "Child
jou must sleep first. Hewven is a lorn
way off. We will awaken you when i
is time."
The child lay down on her bed 0
rags and slept. At midnight the snow
flakes crept in and rested on her hairon
her ragged gown?on her thin hands
and some of the boldest touched lie
face.
"Come! It is time!" they whisperec
She did not move.
"Child! we are here to guide you o:
your path to Heaven!" they called.
There was no answer, but a brigh
star suddenly threw his light in at th
window nnd over the bed of rags, an<
the snowtlnkes gathered together an<
whispered:
"She is dead! While we lingend ii
sport with the winds an angel has com
and borne her away!"
Hi* We Talks On The Train.
Now I'll tell you why I wouldn't g
into the restaurant and have a cup 0
coffee with you while we were waitin.
for the train. I didn't like the way yo
asked me. Keep quiet, I have the flooi
Not half an hour before, you said to Mi
Puffer, "Come, let's get a cigar," an<
away you went, holding his arm an
not giving' him a chance to declinc
When we met John O'llowdy on 011
way to luncheon you said, "Just i
time, John, come take lunch with us.
And then to-night, when we found th
train nearly an hour late, you looked n
I your watch, turned to me and said, i
I a questioning way; Would you like
j cup of coffee?" And I did want it;
I was tired and a little hungry, but
1 would hni'n filintOfl Imfnrn T
such nn invitation. And you wen
away a little bit vexed with me nnd ha
your coffee and bread nnd butter by youi
self nnd didn't enjoy it very mucli
In effect.yon said to me: "If you want
cup of colTce, if you really want it, I wi
buy it for yo;*.." You are the best hus
band in the world, but you do ns ncurl
all the best husbands do. Why d
you men seem to dole things out to yon
wives when you fairly throw them t
the men you know? Why don't you ei
vite me heartily, ns you envitc men
Why didn't you say "Come: let's get
little coffce nnd something," nnd tnk
me right along with you? You wouldn
say to a man, "Would you like me t
go nnd buy you a cigar?" Then why <1
you always issue your little invitntioi
to treats in that wny to me? Indeed, ir
. deed, my dear husband, if mer. woul
Ioniy act lowiini incir wives as ncartiM
cordially, frankly as they do toward ill
men whom they meet, they would fin
cheerier companions at home than the
could at the club:?JJurJette.
A New Haven boy recently. "f<
fun," inserted an advertisement in a.l<
cal paper for a husband. A Wester
farmer answered ir, nnd the \oung ma
wrote at length, describing h:m*elf as
handsome, middle-ogfd wom?:\, v.ith
long bank account. I'h? gringo enin
on last week to aee th* w?Tn*n He
now after the young mnn with a nnt fc
fraud and loss of. timo and money.
', - It % iiWfa.*
SOCIALISM IN GERMANY.
t A TIew of the Quention an It looks to the
.London .Times.
In Berlin itself there is no sensible decline
from the extraordinary height
\ reached by the Social-Democratic move*
mcnt at the time of the general elections
e last autumn, and the seeds then sown
continue to grow with luxuriant strength.
v Within the Inst year the police have had
I to dissolve meetings and issue interj
diets in 175 cases. On several occasions
violent resistance was offered, and the
^ numerous strikes which have lately occured
in the capita! are in a great
j measures traceable to the influence acquired
by the Social-Democrats in trade
unions and -other workingmcn's soe
cieties. To the initiative of these clubs
also arc due the country excursion?
^ which degenerated into disorderly de~
nionstrations. marked bv ji flisnlnv r?l
j red flags and flowers, as well as by the
e singing of the "Marseillaise of Labor.''
I and other forbidden caticles. The ItcM',
a violent print, published monthly in
^ London, also finds its way in considerable
numbers to Berlin.
^ In Hamburg and Atlone, which art
still under the minor state of scigc, there
^ has been no perecpiblc diminution of
t the Social-Democratic movement, whicfc
t is guided by an administative organizG
ation that defies the detective power ol
j the police: and here the doctrines ol
the Social Democrat fall upon fertile
^ ground.
It is the same in Liepsic, where the
arbitrary police powers conferred by the
minor state of scigc clause cannot yet be
r dispensed with. In the period betwecr
c the general Imperial election of 187i
and 18f<4 the number of Socialist vote
I returned by the city <?f Leipsic itscl."
had been nearly doubled, while in the
c inelustrial district around the figures had
risen from about 11.000 to 15,000.
e And the Saxon Government has rcasor
to believe that the majority of thes?
? Socialists incline less to the moderate
section of the party than to that "whict
v aims at realizing its ideal reforms bj
revolutionary force. Shortly before tin
j trial of the Niderwald /lynamitards last
s winter before the Supreme Court of tin
f empire, the police authorities discoverec
e that Anarchist emissaries were on tlicii
way to Leipsic, with intent to free theii
nnrt.isnns Iii>irn:<lrtr A- Cn Klnu-lnf
C i ? " vvr., ./J ...e
j down the walls of tlicir prison; whil?
3 the Frcihet circulated fearful threat!
f against the Judges who tried and senj
tenced the Rudesheim ruffians. As the
e scat therefore of the Supreme Court oe
the Empire. I.eipsic still requires to 1)<
g protected by the minor state of soig<
e from the |)erils of a movement which, ii
r spite of all that has been, done to stani}
p it out and render it innocuous, stil
j shows no decided signs of abating.
His Own Stitches.
a
1 Chief-Justice Mansfield said to i
\ friend, who, having been appointee
v Governor of West India island, com
plained that he would have to sit as i
c judge, ''Decide according to your com
f mon-sense, but don't give your reasons
for I have noticed that your judgment
is generally right, but your reasons ar<
usually wrong."' Mr. Webster once ir
conversation went further than I,ore
>' .Mansfield. ITe insisted that a witnea
might give valuable testimony, and yei
j be unable to support it by a good reason.
In support of his assertion, he tolc
this anecdote.
,f In a case of great importance, a tailor
_ whose evidence would decide the ver
_ diet, affirmed that he had made the coat
; which had been produced in court, foj
r the prisoner. The prisoner's counse
tried to create a doubt as to the identity
I of the coat, and asked the tailor how lit
knew it was the same coat.
n "Why, I know it by my stitches, o:
course."
t "Arc your stitches longer than thos<
e of other tailors?"
"Oh, no."
1 "Are they shorter?"
"No, not a bit shorter."
n "Anything peculiar about them?"
(i "I don't believe there is."
"IIow dare you, then, swear that thej
are yours?"
Th ~ 21 ? a r
I i iic wmiuas was miciil lor u moment
?the question seemed to have perplexec
him,?and then, throwing up his hands.
? he exclaimed,?
"Mercy on us! As if I didn't know
c? mv own stitches!"
11 The jury believed him and his tcsti
* mony convicted the prisoner.
" Mr. "Webster insisted that the jur
c* were right, and said 4'The fact is, w<
" continually build our judgement upoi
details too fine for distinct cognizance
ir And these nice shades arc trustworthy.
n though we can give no good account o
" them."
c
The Old Writers.
n
* 'Journalism nuist be a healthy pro
* fessiorf," said old Mrs. Hquaggs, as sin
| laid the paper on her knee and rubbec
11 her eyeglasses with her apron. "Wha:
'makes you think so ?" asked old Mr
" Squaggs. "Because I see the writer
r~ who used to have pieces in the papei
' when I was a girl, arc still living; thei
a must be very old." "Who arc they?'
^ asked Mr. Squaggs. "Well, there ii
'* 'Veritas' for one. and'Anon,' and'Voj
y Populi' and 'Pro Bono Publico', anc
? many others. I see some of their namei
lr every day, and I declare if the sight o:
? 'em don't bring back the old school
l" days." Then the old lady gazed mcdi
tativcly into the fire, and old Mr
a Squaggs wen out on the back stoop t<
indulge in a (juiet laugh to himself.?
** ImmIoii Courier.
o j ? "
O I U .l.l.._ wi r- r,
.mining i,su ?i congressmen.
'* Some strange requests are made at th<
fl hands of members of Congress snvs i
'' Washington letter. For instance. (Jen
Tom Brown, of Indiana, opened hii
package of letters at his desk in tlw
y House of Representatives. The vorj
first one was from a woman living ii
Posey County, Ind. She first, declared
>r that she wus a good Democrat. Thci
>- came the statement that her husb:iu<!
n aboutseven years iiqornn away from her
n "Wouldn't (.Jen. Brown be good onough
a to step over to the Ceu*u? Otlicc *n?i
a hunt him up<" The nex^. letter wm
to fromaconstuu??nt whoRsked Mr Bror-ni
is to write a letter to the American Min
>r ister at Rome to j;et bin u Hallat
queen bee.
^B ' }^S '''
I THE GOOD WIFE KNEW IT."
Tbe Experience of a Drunknrd who On
Day Broke the Habit tbat
Enalnved lliui.
There is a retired cobbler living i
Angelica, N. Y., says a local correspoi
dent, who deserves the respect of hi
countrymen for moral courage.
! Ten years ago he was, and had bee
for a long time, a confirmed inebriatenot
11 periodical sprecr, but a genuin
soaker, warranted not to draw a sobi
breath from sun to sun. Occasionall
the funics of the whiskey with which h
plied himself would clear away from hi
befogged brain, and at such time hi
mental cqilibrium would wrestle wit
the problem of total or even pnrtu
abstinence, to be utterly wrecked at th
sight of his haunts or the lirst faint ca
of his system for the stimulant whic
long use had rendered peremptory.
One day, however, a halt was called
and this is the way he tells of it.
"I was on my way to the barn whe
I saw a small snake in my puth.
kicked it with my boot and it turned t
a bit of crooked twig, which I snappe
in my luind and threw away. I though
nothing more <xf the matter until
reached the barn, when directly befor
me a second snake twisted across tli
boards. With a quick spring I seize
it and it proved to be a whiplash, j
sudden horrible fear made me faint an
weak. I sat down on the lower rung c
the ladder leading to the loft and wipe
the coltl sweat from my forehead.
44 'Snakes, by Jericho,' I exclaimed
'that means business.'
"Then I stared straight ahead at
corn stalk that soon began slowly t
wriggle and curve. With bursting eye
balls and all the strength of mind I po<
sessed 1 forced that corn stalk back froi
the animal to the vegetable kingdom
and then I staggered feebly out into th
open air. 1 leaned against a fence, an
for tear I should see more of those hoi
rible twisting things I clung to a pof
and closed my eyes.
" 'Time is callcd, Jim,' I said to mj
self; 'whiskey and you part compan
to-day.' And soberer than 1 had bee
for many months, though with no mor
strength than a baby, I managed to gi
back to the house.
"There was a light, though! I didn
tell my wife, for I had made a goo
many promises that hadn't held watei
and I thought I'd go it alone forawhilt
I got up in the morning after a terribl
night with the thirst of a chased fo
upon me. Water wouldn't quench il
and I tried milk. I crept into the mil
room, slipped a straw into the edjie c
a cream-covered pan, and sucked ou
the milk until only the cream wus left
lowered smooth ami unbroken to th
bottom. Then I tackled another air
another, until the tierce craving wa
somewhat dulled. It was a household
mystery what became of the milk. N
cat could lap it, my wife slid, and leav
the sides and cream untouched, am
where did it go?
"1 let them talk, for the struggle wa
loo sore and fearful to be spoken of, am
L went on drinking the milk.
"The road from my house to my sho
lay by the gvoggery. When I left 111
??ate in the morning I took the road
and on a dead run, as if pursued, I mad
the distance. 1 ran hard all the wa
home to dinner, and back after thn
meal, never, in fact, trusting myself t
walk or even to take to the sidewalk fc
months. The cure was slow. I kee
all the brakes hard set yet. A sitigl
Sflass of hard cider would undo th
work of all these years, but you can be
that glass doesn't tou'th my lips whil
the memory of those little crawling blac
reptiles stays with me."
"And did your wife finally Jearn wlni
became of the milk?*' he was asked.
"Yes"?and his voice broke?'*1 tol
tier 011 her deathbed.
" 'Jim, dear,' she said when I h?
finished, with her hand clasped in min
? 'Jim, dear, I knew it all the time.' "
Wholesale Cheek Painting.
The Albany Argus says:
. Eleven young women stood in a ro^
behind the scenes 011 a stage devoted t
1 well-known burlesque entertainmeni
The eleven were a chorus. Their fct
;ures averaged pretty. The eleven wei
jot employed on account of talent, fr
:hey were little more than figurante:
ltd so the manager had only insiste
that they should be young and comelj
When I saw them they had jiu
jmerged from their dressing room, an
were within ten minutes to appear b<
fore an audience, They looked wel
sxcept- that their countenances wei
rliastlv wliitn
Z> " "
"What on earth's the matter wit
.hem?" I asked. "Stage fright?"
' Not much," was the reply. "Yo
;ouldn't scare them with an audience c
Booths and Irvings They've not ha
sheir bloom put on yet. Here is thei
painter. Watch him."
The girls ranged themselves facing
jtroug i:ght. A man with a pallet am
icvcral brushes went tip to the one si
the end of the line. She stopped he
;o:igue, nnd shut her saucy mouth, am
aeld her face expressionlessly still
The artist dabbled a brush in th
smutch of black paint on the pallet am
leftly shaped her eyebrows and riinme
her evelids. Then ho tnnl- nn n lwnoV
I ful of red, spotted her cheeks, and co\
ired her lips. Stepping bnck a pace, h
gazed critically at his job. The gii
zrinned so suddenly and meehanicall
;hat I got the impression that she ha
yonc daft, but that was tjuite in th
way cf professional duty, and was ir
tended to show how she would loo
tvhen she smiled at the audience, s
;hat he could see how to outline the re
>f her lips. This he did with a fei
rapid strokes. Finally he nibbed th
;olor on her cheeks until it blende
1 ratisfactorily with the white groun
work, gave her a critical examinatio
I from a dozen feet, and she wns read
for exhibition. She thereupon droppc
1 >ff the end of the line, and th? mtmo nr
iration, varied only us the difference c
Jie subject required, was repeated o
;he next girl. The man's movement
were wondc. fully quick and dcxteroui
ind the eleventh charmer wns finishc
n a space of time , that may as well lb
;alled a jiffy.
Fabbab mude 11.600 lecturing in New fori
si-', ' '! > : r i.>j
;y" ' ."-r ;.,' : '' ' ,v '
f 'v'''" v"
The RIgZit Spirit.
ie We do not doubt that the following >
touching little story is quite true.
There is 21 lesson and a moral in it for
boys and girls disposed to shirk even
n the light duties imposed upon them in i
1- the way of "chores" and errands, t
is Think of this courageous little fellow tak c
ing upon himself the responsibilities of c
n the head of a family, and so manfully t
- discharging them! t
c "Oh yes, I have all kinds of tenants," '
!l" said a kind faced old gentleman; "but *
y the one I like best is a child not more A
c than ten years of age. A few years ago A
Is I got a chance to buy a peicc of land !]
18 over 011 the West Side, and did so. I
'I noticed that telire was an old coop of a t
house 011 it. bnt naid 110 attention tn if 1
e After a while a man came to me an<l i
^ wanted to know if I would rent it to t
" him. a
" 'What do you want it for?' said I. ]
' " 'To live in,' he replied. t
" 'Well,' I said, 'you can have it. s
n Pay me what you think it is worth to >
I you.' i
0 "The first month lie brought two doll- 1
d arB and the second month a little boy, r
it who said he was the man's son, came (
1 with three dollars. After that I saw the j
e man once in a while, but in the course i
e of time the boy paid the rent regularly, 1
d sometimes two dollars and sometimes t
\ three dollars. One day 1 asked the boy <
d what had become of his father* 1
>f " 'He's dead, sir,' was the replbv. 1
d "'Is that so?' said I. 'How long (
since?'
1; "'More'n a year,' he answered. 1
"I took his money, but 1 made up ?
my mind that I would go over and in- '
? vestigate. and the next day I drove over *
there. The old shed looked <iuite de- 1
cent. I knocked at the door, and a 1
? little girl let me in. I asked for her 1
i, mother. 1
e " 'Where is she?' said I. J
d " 'We don't know, sir. She went !
away after my father died, and we've *
>t never seen her since.' 1
".Tust then a little girl about three ;
years old came in, and I learned that J
y these three children had been keeping
n house together for a year and a half, 1
the boy supporting his two little sisters '
^ by blacking boots and selling news- '
papers, and the cider girl managing the *
't house and taking care of the baby. "The
xext time the boy came with (
"? the rent I said! "My boy, you are a (
I little man! You keep right on as you *
e have beffun, and you will never be*sorry.
x Keep your little sisters together, and t
' never leave them. Now look at this.' 3
^ <4I showed him a ledger in which I
1 had entered up all the money that he
\ had payed me for rent, and I told him it 1
was all his with interest. 'You keep (
V right on,'1 says I, 'and I'll be your ban- *
1 ker. and when this amounts to a little f
? more I'll see that you get a house some- '
1 where of your own.' That's the kind of '
? tenant to have."?Chicago Herald. ]
e 1
d ]
Dob Bnrdcttcs? Sermon.
Two hundred as able-bodied tramps 1
as ever lodged in a police station on a
P rold night tendered Bob Burdette, the T
' funny man of the Brooklyn Eagle, a re- s
' ception at the lecture room of the s
c Sunday Breakfast Association, on
y Twelfth street, above Iiace, one evening *
lt recently. ^
ir "Heard about the Prodical Son? Of !
p course you have. You were all of you
e prodicals, only you haven't gone back to
c the old man yet. The prodigal was a ]
>t gallus young chap. His father was
e mayor of the town, I believe. When he
k went out of town he had a Saratoga lull 1
of store cloths, a high hat, a cane, a t
shirt that, buttoned behind, two-button- i
1 cd lemon-colored kid gloves and a dia- j
, mond. And he had a stocking full of t
1 money.
, "The prodigal had a good time?a i
' right down uproarious good time? 1
e drunk every night and a head on him in <
the morning. Didn't know what to do i
with his money. His friends did
thoucrh. (
"They always find out. There had to
comejthat dreadful fifteen minutes when a t
... I man goes though his cloths and finds
'* not a red. Then the barkeeper threw s
t him out. When that prodigal boy foot- c
edit back in his old straw hat rim, agun.*
ning sack and nothing but stone bruises 1
)r on his feet, he arranged a pretty little (
\ speech for the old man. lie didn't want
J to get into the parlor. He wanted a soft c
berth in the kitchen. But before he t
got near enough for the dogs to bark at (
him the old man saw him and he 6et j
things up handsomely. He put his own i
j" cloths on him, put a bloodstone ring on r,
his linger and put fiddlers in the cor- 1
ner. a
k "Now turn your backs upon the husks \
and the swine, my friends, and come
home to the old man?come home to t
" your friends." e
^ Under the, genial influence of Mr. f
Burdette's semnon a dozen of his hearers t
ir signed the pledge.
t
a
cl Eggs are Eggs. j
t i
r The wife of a certain suburban was r
i that nuisance among good cooks?a per|.
petual borrower. One day it was a cup- j.
e ful of sugar; the next, a box of blueing (
and the cloths wringer, and so on. And ^
d she wasn't half as good at returning as she
i- was at borrowing. One day in the A
r. midst of her cooking not an egg was to
e be found. Over she went to one of her ^
:1 neighbors, a widow of small means, and <
y borrowed the two or three eggs she Impel
pened to have in the house. Several s
a >?eeks elapsed, when one forenoon she
i- appeared in the widow's kitchen with ->
k three eggs in a paper bag. ^
o "Good morning, Mrs. S. I have come A
d to return something you let me have the f
iv otner any. 1 unci boiled eggs lor break- j
e fast this morning and these arc three I A
r| had left over. Eggs are eggs you
d know. g
n m
y TnE vast extent of British commerce f
d is indicated by the fact that no day
>- passes without some English vessel be>f
ing lost with all its crew. Indeed, the
n statistics for the month of November I
:s show a much greater average loss than c
j, this, for during its thirty days no fewer s
d than seventy-four ships with all hinds s
ie perished. This constitutes a tremen- I
dous toll, but, having the carrying trade i
of the world chiefly in her hands, Brit- 8
t. annia is able to bear the strain. 1
.. -- -f>p- -v-;s ?
TOLD OF A MOONLIGHTER.
>entb of One ofthr Advrnturnh vrlio Dvfic?l
the Kobcrlw Torpedo .llonopolv.
A cheap pine coflin and an obscure lot
n Potter's Field of Bradford Pa., form
he last resting place of William McNeil,
me of the famous well shooters of the
>il regions. When death came it overook
him in an obscure alley, within
wo paces of the door of a rum hole,
iitjuor killed him. The body was
bund by the proprietor of the groggcry,
vho stumbled over it in the dark, and
vas by him turned over to the poo?
uitliorities.
After the war was over McNeil, in
:ompany with hundreds of othei
lonorably discharged soldiers, drifted
nto Pithole the booming capitol of oil
lom. lie worked as driller about the
veils until the birth of the Roberts tcrjedo
monopoly, and then became one oi
he first, of an adventurous circle ol
spirits who fought it. In those days it
vas unlawful to explode nitro-glycerine
n wells without Roberts's consent.
Respite the law the hardy moonlighters,
is the opposition well shooters were
:alled, flourished. Hundreds of men
rrew rich out of Ihe illegal traffic,
ilthough McNeil, who led a wild career,
.vas not one of them, lie had many
bribing escapes from death. On one
occasion tbr<>c of his companions were
Mown out of the world. The three men
.vere unloading the stuff from the shooters'1
wagon, McNeil being at the well,
ibout two rods away. McNeil heard a
crrible noise and fainted. When he rerained
his senses he found himself in o
lump of underbrush eighty feet from
he well. Scattered through the treeops
were shreds of flesh and clothing.
In the earth was a ureat hole. Close by
ay a disemboweled horse.. A rubber
joot with a portion of a foot in it and
in ear were picked up the day after fully
i half mile distant, from the sccne of
he disaster. One of the men had probibly
dropped one of the cans of nitrorlycerine.
Aside from a few bruises
McNeil was uninjured.
After this he married a rich v/idow
who happened to possess an oil farm,
ind for :i few years lived a life of respectibilitv.
The marriage was not a happy
?nc, however, and lie took to dri\ k.
tfrs. McNeil became disgusted. and
>nc day when her husband was in town
>n a spree she packed up her dunnage,
ook the fourcliildren. and disappeared
rom McNeil's life forever. She went
o Kansas City, whore she died a few
rears later.
McNeil went back to moonlighting.
SVlien under the influence of liquor he
vas a man to steer clear of. Anions
)tl;er stories told of him, it is related
hat lie once boarded a train at Hickory,
mi route to Oil City. His lust cent had
)een spent for whiskey at Hickorv
itation. "When the conductor demanded
lis fare McNeil lauahed and consigned
lim to a place which has no existence in
Bob Ingersoll's religion.
"I'll put you oir the train," angrily
:aid the conductor, as lie beckoned to
lis brakeman.
"Naw, you won't." sneered McNeil,
vavinpr a tin can in the air which reiemhled
an overfat rocket without the
;tick.
"Great Scott! Glycerine!" shouted
he conductor. In thirty seconds the car
vas cleared, and McNeil monopolized
he entire coacli until the train reached
)il City.
Wr. Yanderbilt and his Architect.
Mr. Yanderbilt never gave a thought
o an artist's or an architect's rcpuation.
He couldn't understand why a
nan should complain of a change in his
ilans which would injure him. so long
is the owner and employer paid for it.
lYhen the plans for his big house were
n course.of preparation lie was urged
>v his architect to prepare for a larger
iining room than he was contemplatng.
"Why," said the man of art, "j-ou
:an't give banquets in such a room."
"Oh. hang banquets. I'm not goingo
give any."
"lint you must. A man can't live in
lucli a hou?e as you are building with>ut
givinjr larire entertainments."
"Well, if I jjive any,'' said Vandcr?ilt,
I'll give them in the picture gallsry."
The picture gallery adjoined the
lining room, so the butler's pantry was
irranged to open into both rooms. But
>ne morning, when the walls of the
rreat house had gone up two stories, Mr.
fnndcrbilt made his appearance in his
irchitect's ofiicc. Hunt was buildinc
William K's house, and was sriving the
roung man a noble banquet hall, thirty
ect hi?h, and splendid, with carving.
"Why, my son's dining room's going
o be bigger than mine." shouted the
ixcited millonaire, wiping the peripiration
from his brow. "I can't have
hat anyhow," he continued."I
thought this was all settled. I
hought?"
"Oh, 110 matter about that. I won't
lave my son's dining room bigger than
nine. IIow much will it cost to change
nine and make it bigger?"
"A. good deal." answered the arehiect.
''There will have to be new foun- s
lations, the walls that are up will have
o be taken down, and?"
"What do I care for that? How mucb
vill it cost?"
The architect made some figures, and
old Mr. Vanderbilt that it would cost
ittO.OOO.
"Well, go on and do it." was the aniwer.
Rut the architect objected. He told
Hr. Vanderbilt that to tear down the
vails would hurt his reputation. People
vould think thnt there had been a deect
in his plans. The Croesus heard thia
n rtnwi.mnnthnrl astnnislimnnt nnrl
vhon' the architect at Inst asked:
"What will the sidewalk committee
iay?" answered:
"What is that to you?* Dont I pay
or it?"?Boston Pont.
"Confound these matches 1" sairl
*hiiip, as he attempted to light hist
:igar. "They are the poorest I ever
aw." "I like parlor matches best,"
aid Cordelia. "Why ?" asked innocent
>hilip. 4!Oh, for'Several reasons. They
lever hang fire, and it don't take them
:o long to come 10 the starting point."
?hilip came to the scratch.
. , . 'A