The people. (Barnwell C.H., S.C.) 1877-1884, February 14, 1884, Image 1
t. AxtWw for poblioation Aoald to
vrittaa fai« dftftr, fagiblft toad, ttd oa
oalj oa« rid* nt toft pftfft.
4, All toftag- la adtortlwHi mwat
. (ftfthMM rriady.
THE OLDEST CHRfSTVA S HI M A
VOL. VII. NO. 24. BARNWELL, C. H., S. C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 14. 1884.
$2 a Year.
[In Book III of Clement of Alexandria ia riven (In
Greek) the moat ancient liymn of the Primitive
Church. It ia there (one hundred and fifty yean
after the Apoatlee) aaeerted to be of much'earller
ortl^ln^ ^Tne following venion will give some im-
Bhepherd of tender youth,
Guiding in love and truth.
Through derioua ways;
Chri-t our triumphant King 1
We come thy name to aing,
And here our children bring
To ahont thy praiae.
Y e
Thou art our holy Lord!
The all-aubduing Word,
Healer of atrife
Thou did'st thyself abase 1
That from sin's deep disgrace
Thou mightest save our race
And give us life.
Thou art wisdom's High Priest ?
Thou bast prepared the feast
Of holy love;
And in our mortal pain
None calls on thee in vain,
Help thou dost not disdain,
Help from above.
Ever be thou our Guide.
Our Shepherd and our pride,
Our staff and song.
Jesus, thou Christ of Ood !
By the perennial word,
Lead us where thou hast trod,
- *** * ■*-»*-» -«. - -
mue our fAiiti strong.
So now, and till we die,
Sound we thy praise on high,
And Joyful sing.
Infanta, and the glad throng,
Who to thy Church belong,
Unite and swell the song
To Christ onr King.
Mak ing Amends
* •
letrndrd fer Hwalnraa IHea.
BT DUD IB WHITE.
"Christmas comes but once s jear, ”
yet when it comes it brings—it brings—
useless expense—a day’s lull in business
—a laziness peculiar to all employees
. for a snoceeding week—an unwise ex
changing of gifts when the money is oft
needed for other and necessary purposes
—a harrying, scurrying, foolishly busy,
topsy-turry people, wishing each other
a “merry Christmas” to-day, and en
deavoring, with a new vim, to rob each
other to-morrow. The streets, full of
itinerent ware men, with their cheap,
trashy merchandise; leering, familiar
beggars, with their alcoholic "jist a
penny for Christmas, sir!”
A gorging of dyspeptic sweets and un
wholesome food — a—a—folly ! folly !
that I, Phineas Rngby, will omit year
after year, as I have done since I arrived
to years of discretion—bah ! bsh ! Yes,
my nama’s Phineas Rngby. Not s very
elegant one, you think, for Phineas, ac
cording to the Hebrew, is "month of
brass.” Hatha! And Rngby—well, is
just Rngby, and one can’t Frenchify
that. But I like it—it snits me. I’ve
grown with it—liftol and succeeded
with ii
Bat it’s not a handsome name. Oh,
no! I’m not a handsome man. Bat,
some way, the little, uninteresting, bald-
headed, hawk-eyed proprietor of one of
the largest book-stores in a large city is
looked np to, ia bowed to, for money’s
money, whether in a silk parse or a
greasy pocketbook.
If yon look closely at me von will see.
—all over my face, many seams and scars,
that time alone did not imprint there.
One has to work hard, very hard, if they
would make money squarely and legiti
mately. Most of it brain work, too, that
is ten times the more wearying than
real, downright mannal labor.
Well* I know what it is to scrape and
pinch to pay expenses, oft going to bed
hungry and discouraged. It is, and al
ways was, cash down with me. I owed
nobody, and allowed nobody to owe me. ^ . ... ,, ; ,
If 1 lived through it, others could, and * thinking and thiuking of tbs story yon
must I mode no excuses, I listened to
none. And so, if this Christmas eve. in
the year 18—, I can sit in my own lodg
ing, knowing that I* am the Phineas
Rngby, of the prosperous, house of that
name. I can say I have earned it.
Spent money, time, happiness, home
comforts and all to earn it. And yet—
are we ever satisfied.
It's Christmas to-morrow, Phineas, 1
say to myself, watching the lighted coals
smoldering nmid the ashes in the grate,
before which I am sitting in gown and
slippers—Christmas to-morrow; and
Phineas, my boy, irtot is it yon have
done daring the past twelve months
that yon feel prond of this eve ? I guess
yoa haven’t thought,of that before.
Let’s see—let’s see—tbnmb. I owe
no man—first finger—no man owes me
-second finger. I, six months ago,
discharged my bookkeeper Jacoby, :a
'•ay, good-for-nothing rascal — third
finger—I—I—I—well, I guess that’s 41L
Not much to brag of, hey, Phineas ? So,
so—well, a good night’s rest, and to
morrow I will again lie—Phineas Rugby.
Now to rouse that sleepy-looking Urn—
there, I hope I haven’t put it ont I I’ve
to be careful of my old enemy, rheuma-
tisen, with hit troop of inflammations—
and now—now for bed.
Bed’s the place after all, Whare one
can, aa Shakespeare says, "couch his
limbs where golden deep doth reign. ”
Feathers are restful, too (ymwningly), yea,
foil of reat—full of mat, Full mom to
night on the wall opposite; I can see its
reflection. "The moon riees in (flooded
taajeeiy,” and what a place for a magic
lantern.
boys, how Bob and I
to wish, and wonder if we ever
and when we had the money we wanted
something eke we couldn't get Bob’s
dead now, slid I—why I see the moon
over my left shoulder. 'Wonder if one
can wish if the moon is fulL I might
try. Let's see—what do I wish. Yes,
yes, an idea! I wish I could see object*
ind things on that circle opposite, as I
lay here and take it easy—that’s an ideal
Am I dreaming. It can’t be that one
gloss of porter! I ait up in bed—I take
off my nightcap—I poll my hair—pinch
myself—gaze helplessly forward, and
see where late had been a circle of pale
light A room—small—mean—uninvit
ing—cheerless—cold. No carpet on the
floor, save the little ugly green jstripee
oefore a bed in one owner, and the dark
fire-place. Two oane bottomed chain,
feeble as to legs, and paint of no known
color. A table, reminding one of the
Rebellion. A tin candlestick, a few
dishes, s mnch thumbed Bible on the
mantle shelf. A picture of a sweet-faced
lady, in an old-fashioned frame on the
wall, and no more.
A door to one side opens, and there
enters—a wee body, scarce ten yean of
age, but such a prematurely aged ten.
Such a wizened face, hungry-looking
ten. Bach a poorly clad, large head,
large eyes, shivering, pnny-lobking ten.
The head is good—I can see that, ideal
ity a little too marked perhaps. Bat
the hair is smooth, glossy and curling.
He brings a chillness within that even I
feel aa I pull the bedclothes closer np
about my neck.
Now the door is closed, and the faded
old straw hat and ragged scarf hong on
a nail. The basket, which he carries in
one of'his claw-like hands, set upon the
hearth, and he proceeds to remove the
lid, whistling all the time—actually
whistling, if that feeble little pucker of
those bine lips can be termed a whistle.
First theie comes from this mysterions
basket two candles, then a box of
matches. The old candlestick is taken
down from the mantel, one of the
matches ignited, a candle lit and placed
proudly in the center of the table.
Now be delves down again into the
basket, and this time two bandies of
wood and a loaf of bread are brought
forth, bis face becoming perfectly
radiant os he beholds them. He is sing
ing now, over and over, "Won’t dear
father be surprised!”
There is not much music in this little
song, yet there is a choked feeling in
the throat of Phineas Rugby that he
hasn't felt for years. What a busy little
man be is now, running to and fro,
building a fire, placing the most com
fortable-looking chair before it invit
ingly. Just putting the last finishing
touches on mil as the door again opens,
and there enters—bless me, Jacoby ! my
ex-bookkeeper!
"Father, father, see I” the boy cries,
as he dances to his father’s side, and
pulls him down in the chair,
Christmas present from your little! son t
I earned it myself—all myself. I'm
most a big man now, and we won’t be
hungry any more. Oh, father l”—his
arms clasped about his neck, and his
tiny face close to the elder one—"ain’t
we pleased ?”
Jacoby says nothing; but tears, such
as I never knew a man could shed, fall
onjhe dark curls of the little one. Ho
had changed a good deal in six months,
Jacoby had, and not for the better-
no, no.
"Phineas Rugby, take my tot and put
it where it belongs,” he says, after a
short and mournful silence; "then come
and ait on father’s knee and tell him all
about this wonderful surprise.”
“You aee,” and the little head is
pressed close to the faded great-coat of
the man, "after you orent out I was
had Just told me—of the good prince
that went ont in the world to help his
father, the king. And then I remem
bered mamma used always to give yon
a Christmas present, and something
seemed saying: ‘Go, Dsvey, go, go [’
So I just put on my hat and that nice
warm scarf of yours, took the basket,
locked the door, and went out, just like
the prince, in the cold world. I was a
little ’(raid at first; bat nobody noticed
iqie, and-1 hadn’t went very far when I
came to a store—oh ! the most beautiful
store, father, with two large windows,
all fnll of snch nice books and pretty
cards; and I was a wishing that yon and
I owned! jiist such a place when I spelt
under the window on a sign P-h-i-n-e-a-s
—Phineas R-u-g-b-y—Rugby, and then
I knew it was the place wliere you
worked when mother was alive and we
had snch a nice home. And Phineas
Rugby was the man who toot you away
because you couldn’t work when dear
mamma was dying.
"Just as if you could help it”—kissing
the hand about his neck. "But I
thought perhaps he never knew what
was the matter when yon didn’t come to
the store; and I waft agoing in to tell
him all about it, when a little, oroas-
looking man came ont and told me 'if I
didn’t get away from the door in two
minutes,’ he would hsve mf arrested.
"I knew you didn’t want your little
boy took np in the bad station-boose,
so I ran away aa fast aa ever I could,
and was a standing on the crossings
shivering a little—yon see it wae getting
pretty cold—when a kind lady asked me
to carry her catchel foe tor to her hotel
—which wae only a black away from onr
street, father. And when I tod done it
—and it was awful light—the gave me a
could raise meaty enough to bay one j whole twenty ami-five cents. You ought
to have seen me; I was that glad I near
forgot I was a Prince, and cried. And,
but I didn’t; I run fast to the grocery
man and buy—now count, father—two
candles, five oenta; two bandies of
wood, five oenta; one loaf of bread, five
cents; one box of matches, one cent.
How mnch is that ?"
"Sixteen oenta.”
"And here’s nine for yoa, right here
to my pocket, and .it’s all my Christmas
present—all for you.”
All ia qniet for a minute; then Jacoby
says, huskily:
"Keep the- money for Christmas
sweets, Davey. I wish I could add
more; bnt I have had no snooees; every
one asks for reference. Rngby denied
me^that. But we won’t think of it to
night—'tis the blessed Christmas eve—
and God watches over and will take care
of ns, if we only ask Him, Davey.”
A little figure slides ( to the floor and
kneels with clasped hands, and reverent,
upturned face, and the prayer ia an
swered as it floats to me—miserable ! re
penting !
"Dear God, I’m only a little boy, and
a care to my father and Thee. Bui
please, Uod, make Mr. Rngby see
father couldn’t help it, for Jesus' sake.
Amen. ”
The room, Jacoby and little Davey I
now cannot see through my tears, and I
hide my head in the bedclothes and sot
like a child.
When I look np again, all is changed.
A large store—books all about in theii
gay, vari-oolored bindings.
Fancy Christmas and New Year cards,
fancy stationery—everything speaking
of plenty. There’s no pne in the store
now, save three yonug clerks, and a
bookkeeper, perched on a high stool l>e-
hiud his desk.
Clerk No. 1. — "Most time for old
Rugby. Fly &l>out, boys. Thank good
ness, a holiday to-morrow.”
Clerk No. 2.—“Yes, hurrah for Ohrist-
mas ; he can’t take that away from ns.”
Clerk No. 1.—"I wonder if he won’t
break his heart this onoe. and give us a
quarter. Or, to l>e honest, he might
take us all out and treat us.”
Bookkeeper (head hid in ledger).—"if
he hears you, Simpkins, he’ll treat you
to a grand bounce. The old miser!
When he gets hold of a dollar it’s a pris
oner forjife.”
Chvk No. 3.—"I’m willing to do my
duty every time. Bnt it’s work, work,
from mom till mght, with never a
‘Thank yon.’ Never remembering we
ore men as well as he, and a kind word
once in a while does a fellow as mnch
good as a dinner.”
—* * * * • ^
Early, Christmas morning, and I’m
up and dressed, a new man ! "It may
have been a dream,” I say to the clock
striking the hour of seven, "bnt I’U
never believe it, I’ve been a selfish,
mercenary, short-sighted man in the
post, thinking of nothing but making
and hoarding money, which never did
me or anybody else any good. I’m an
old man—I surely can’t take it with me
in the other world. I haven't a kith or
kin to leave it to to this. Phineas
Rugby, wake up! Look about you!
There is something in life after all.”
Merry Christmas to everybody.
Merry Christmas to all.
THE UME-KILN CLUB.
WORDS OF
WISDOM BY
GARDNER.
BROTHES
Fftacry
Pm in the street now, walking along
briskly; breathing in the fresh, effer
vescing sir; humming to myself, drop
ping s penny here, a penny there in the
outstretched palm of every beggar I
meet Feeling like a boy let loose from
a rigid school, my feet so light, with the
very thought of what I have in my
mind—that they scarcely touch the
walk. I go into a poulterer*. I buy
(our large turkeys and send them, with
an envelope containing twenty-five dol
lars, to each of my clerks and my book
keeper—from the "old miser” (my l^tla
revenge. I chuckle).
I can’t spend money enough. Every
boy I meet that reminds me in the least
of little Davey, I take in somewhere
and buy him a turkey. Then I order
one of the best dinners that money can
procure to be sent to No. 10 Marks
Place, Jacoby’s and Davey’s home. (I
knew where they lived, I had kept an
eye on them, but it had been a blind eye,
Phineas). And laden-with all the pret
tiest books and cords I con get from the
store—my store—the store he thought
so beautiful, I go to their mean hpuse,
not to be so any longer, if old man
Phineas Rngby lived long enough to
charge it
Such oereipony as knocking on the
door, I forget in my excitement as I
burst in like s whirlwind—tearful, fool
ish—trying to bel merry, and failing.
"Jacoby,’’ I say, “forgive me, I have
been an old fool—let’s—let’s—’’
He has hold of ny hand now, and I
hold the other one out to little Davey as
I ftay:
“Davey, my little map^yonr prayer is
answered, Mr. Rugby secs lather oonld
not help it, and will make reparatu.n,
for to morrow morning the sign of
Phineas Rugby wilt make ns a warm
fire, and in its place a new one shall bear
the names of Rugby A Jacoby—God
bless’em.” N •
"Christmas comes bat once a year—
"Yet when it oomes it brings Uncle"
Rngby,” says Da^y.
Jones aakedjns wife, "Why is a hus
band like dough ?” He expected she
wooldgive it up, and he was going to (ell
her that it was because a woman needs
him; bnt she said it wm beoeoee he was
hard to get off her hands.
[From the Detroit Free Press.)
The Chairman of the Committee on
Harmony of the Lime-Kiln Glob, an
nounced his desire to submit a report,
and being encouraged by a smile ten
inches long he read twelve pegea of
closely written manuscript. Waydown
Bebee has for the last three yean done
everything in his power to bring out and.,
encourage poets. Several months since
Judge Congo demanded an investiga
tion, stating his belief that the principle
was calculated to work evil to society,
end the matter wea tamed over to the
Harmony Committee.
The Chairman now reported that he
had personally investigated several oases
as follows:
1. William Henry Green, of Indiana,
formerly an industrious mechanic with
money in the bank. Had written three
poems and one idyl, and was now in jail
for stealing -w giraffa belonging to a
circus.
2. Bradawl Watkins, of Ontario,
formerly one of the best whitewasbers
in the civilized world. He had written
two odes and an obituary to verse, and
had been fined 425 for pounding his
wife.
8. Judge Glucose Blindhoof, of Ohio,
formerly a blacksmith earning $3 per
day and having a laugh which oonld be
heard half a mile away. Had written
four verses on “The Dying Year,” and
vet his whole natnre seemed to have un
dergone a change. Had had three fights
with neighbors, lost his situation, been
drunk and had applied for a divorce.
The Chairman said he could give sev
eral farther instances of the fiendish re
sults of Brother Bebee’s efforts, bnt be
fore he had time to do so Giveadam
Jones presented toe following:
"JRetolred, Dat from dis date de Lime-
Kiln Club will use ebery means widin its
power to discourage de makin’ of poets
an’ de prodnekahon of poetry.”
Waydown Bebee arose to begin an ar
gument, bnt was shouted down and toe
resolution put to vote and carried with a
whoop.
A WARNING.
Samuel Shin then presented the peti
tion of Liveforever Smith, a colored
resident of Detroit, bnt not a member of
the Lime-Kiln Club, who desired the
club to indorse his application for a pen
sion from toe government for injuries
reoeived during the war.
“Brudder Shin,” sternly replied the
President, “you raise the winder an’
drop dat paper into de alley.”
Samuel obeyed.
"Now, sab, I want to say to yon an
to all odder members, dat dis club am
not workin’ de pension racket. De man
who went to wah an’ was crippled an*
disabled desarves recompense at de
hands of his gov'ment, an’ has probably
had it for y’ars past De pension biz-
ness of to-day am fo’-fifth swindle an’
one-fifth claim agent Uncle Sam pays
ebery dollar dat he owes to his defend
ers, on’ an applicashun at dis day should
be regarded wid astonishment, if not
suspishnn. We doan’t assist any man,
black or white, to make out dat twenty
y’ars arter he come back from wah ha
suddenly falls lame from havin’ slept ca
de ground. Let ns now blow oat da
'amps an’ go home."
How to Make a Bed.
Says the Philadelphia Pre«»: Let
every bed-maker, as soon as all the
coven are spread, tarn down the upper
sheet, and all above it, leaving a gener
ous margin below the bolster. Soma
people, yon know, poll all the coven
straight np to the top and lay the bolster
upon them, so that when bedtime oomes
they must be rearranged at the head.
Boys don’t like this way, and perhaps
some other folks don’t either. It is toe
custom to pile two big, square pillows
on the top of the bolster, and then put
on two pillow-shams, and then, some
times, or perhaps before the pillow-
shams, a sheet-sham. This is setting a
trap for the unwary. Only a remark
ably carefnl woman is equal to the task
of getting off nil toe "finery” properly.
Why not almost, if not altogether, abol
ish shams of all kinds. Why not hon
estly take off the big, square pilloi
and supply every bed with a comfortable
bolster to take the place of pillows? If
you like adornment, embroider or deco
rate the slips and sheets themselves
without any make-belieye. Silk, lace
and the like seem oat of place on a bed,
which should suggest repose. Imagine
a big boy with boots on flinging himself
into the midst of a fairy creation of pink
satin and torchon ! Let beds be what
theylook like, and let them look like
what they are—real resting places.
Confront improper eonduet, opt by
retaliation, but by example.
r Co An Output.—The quantity sent
from anthracite mines in the year 1883
has been 30,408,061 tons, against 28,066,-
602 tons in 1882. There has been an in
crease of over 2,000,000 tons in toe
Wyoming regions, over 400,000 each by
the Delaware and Hudson and Delaware
and Lackawana and naarly 500,000 by
the Pennsylvania; and about 600,000
from the Schuylkill district, nearly all
by the Reading. The delivery from the
ftehigh district allows a decrease.
SENDING INDIANS TO COLLEGE.
-Wkat
A Wpatera flaw al tbs MltaatUa
Pa*r l* W*aM Hava ta
A gentleman named Kntchin, living
in Green Lake- eonnty, Wia., has
isd several Indian boys at work for him
the past summer on a farm, and they
proved so valuable, and so willing to
work, and so anxious to leave the roving
life of toe tribe and engage in the civil
ised pursuits, that he baa interceded
with the government to educate the
young Indians, and they are to be sent
to -eolle^a. This seems tons to be a
il mistake? - If they would send the
young Indians to a district school, and
teach them the English language, snr-
rounded by the boys of farmers and
mechanics, it would be well for the
Indians, but to put them into a college
will break them all up. The Indian
who goea to a college will find it hard,
after the life he has led, to adopt the
ways of civilized college 'students, and
become hazere, who practice cruelty on
boys who are physically weak. The
Indian boy who has never been on the
war-path would be sick at heart at wit
nessing a hazing match, where a con
sumptive freshman is taken from his
warm room, undressed, and held out of
a fourth story window until the marrow
n his bones is frozen, as has been done
within the last year by civilized sons of
rich men attending college. The Indian
boy is not naturally hard hearted, and
to be thrown into the sooiety of boys
who think it fnn to take a freabmsE
blindfolded, in a hack, ten miles from
the college, strip him, and torn him
loose to find bis way back throngh toe
blinding snow, would be too mnch for 4
them, and they would drift ba6k to the
uncivilized life to which they have been
accustomed.
Again, it would be hard to inake col
lege dudes of sensible Indian boys.
Yon take a plain, unvarnished Indian
boy, put on his head s visorless college
cap, a collar four inches high, a tight
coat, cut off too short at the lower end, a
pair of pants that he'would have to pat
French chalk inside df, to get his legs
in, and long tooth-pick shoes with yel
low tops, and give him a oane, and teach
him to say, "Ah, by Jove, yon know,”
and he would be a picture that would
cause his tribe to weep. Suppose toe
father and mother of the Indian student,
thus attired,should give the muskratsthat
they trap, a holiday, and go to the col
lege to visit their sons, and should find
him as described, and he oonld put his
eye-glass into one eye and say, "Ah,
governor, glad to see yon, yon know;
and msdame, I am yours truly,” the
aged rat trapper would pull his gun and
if he oonld get two of them in range he
would shoot them, though he would
hesitate to waste a charge of powder on
a single one, while the squaw mother
would wrap her blanket around her form
and go and lean against a fence and be
siok. The Indian would have too mnch
sense, uncultured thoucrh he may be, to
be proud of such an outfit as a son, and
instead of blessing the day that his son
decided to become cultivated, he would
curse it. If it is deemed advisable to
educate the Indian boys, let ns com
mence at the right place, the country
school, and when the Indian has learned
enough to be able to transact business,
let him go into some business that he
can do, and if he has got it in him to
become a man, he will have encourage
ment from all decent people, bnt if we
start him in a college, where half the
boys go because all the other places to
get rid of them are oloaed, the Indian
will come ont a big-headed piece of use
lessness, and when he gets out there will
be no place good enough for him. He
will be above catching rats, and the
world will owe him a living.—EccEi
•Vim. r
- . —i - —--••••-' - '
The Irish. '
At the last census the natives of Ire-
and who were present in England and
Wales numbered 562,374, being in the
proportion of 21.65 to 1,000 of the en
tire population. The number is not an
increasing quantity, for in 1861 it was
601,634, and at each census since it has
fallen gradually. These figures show
that relatively to the whole population
of the country the Irish element is not
formidable, but its unequal division over
the country concentrates its strength in
certain districts. In the agricultural
counties the number of Irish is insignifi
cant, bnt bat in the manufacturing and
mining counties and borooghs they
form a large proportion of the popula
tion. Thus, in Liverpool they are
reckoned at 12.8 per cent, in Birken
head &8, in 8t Helen’* 8.5, in Man-
eheater 7.5, in Salford 7.4, in Lan
cashire 6.1, in Cumberland 5.6 per cent,
and so on.
Bogus Butteb.—The steward of a
prominent hotel gives this advioe; "Any
housekeeper can prove the honesty of
her grocer, or hi* batter, by. melting it
Pare batter melted product's a pore,
limpid, golden oil, and it retains the
batter flavor. Melt oleomargarine, and
the oil smells like tallow and looks like
tallow, and a seam riees to the surface.
Butterine is a mixture of dairy batter
and fata. Melt that, and the batter oil
will rise to the top. Poor this off, and
yon will*find the fats at the bottom,
whitish in color and giving off a dis
agreeable smell.”
AN IRISH GIKL’8 HEROISM.
teraslag la Hwaar Falaalr I* Nava 0*Oaa>
— aalPa Lila.
The Dublin Ncu'i publishes a letter
frfim Mr. A. M. Sullivan, who was one
of Patriek O'DonneU’a counsel, entitled:
"Susan Gallagher, the Irish Jeannie
Deans—an Episode of the O’Donnell
Trial." Mr. Sullivan describes the con
nection of Susan Gallagher with the
killing of James Carey, and argues that
the facta redound to the credit of the Irish
peasantry. In this case, he says, a
simple Donegal girl outrivaled the
Midlothian heroine in her anguish, sacri
fice, devotion and truth. Mr. Russell's
masterly and irresistible argument
proved s hundred ciroomstanoesand con
siderations in favor of Carey having
handled a pistol daring the tragedy.
Yean ago O’Donnell separated from his
wife in America, \yhile revisiting Done
gal, O'Donnell (net Susan, who con
sented, under the representation that she
was his sister, to accompany him to toe
Cape, where they intended to marry.
When after he returned to England she
was questioned by Messrs. Pryor and
Sullivan, Susan stated that after leaving
Gape Town ahe sat listless, seasick, and
dazed in the steamer’s saloon on a
bench; and when Mr. Sullivan ap
proached the critical point concerning
Carey’s pistol, Susan realizing the tre
mendous importance of toe question,
suffered intense mental anguish and
trembled like an aspen-leaf. Sobbing,
she replied: "My back was turned
toward them, Sir. Oh, if T hxd on
tamed round before! Oh, Sir, I was not
looking the right way. I heard some
noise on the floor. It might have been
he shuffling of feet It was a small
matter.” Mr. Sullivan adds: "Whc
oonld contradict her if she testified that
she beheld Carey with pistol in hand ?
Or what could be easier than for her to
decline that she heard the pistol fslL”
In conclusion he says : "The people of
Tyroonneil may claim with [wide the
hnmble heroine of religion and truth,
Susan Gallagher, the Irish Jeannia
Deans.”
Aidrem, THE PEOPLE
B*BwEiiag.*a
THE HUMOROUS PAPERS.
WHAT WE
FIND IN THEM TO LAUGH
OVER.
fad that
WET NX WOESIXD.
Doctor—"And bow do yoa
morning, my poor fellow F*
Sufferer—"Much better in moat ways,
bat lam afraid I won’t Bread very tat;
I worry too much.”
Doctor—"Yon have nothing to worry
about. You will not lose any of you
limbs and the railroad company oaa b#
made to pay heavy damages. ”
Sufferer—"I know that; but just think
of the humiliation 1"
Doctor—"The humiliation 1”
Sufferer—Yes; I wee always con
sidered a man of energy and activity,
but now my reputation is rained. Ho
one will want to employ a man who'
so lazy as to get ran over by aa
modation Inin."—Philadelphia Cull.
MARRIED TWO WOMEN.
‘Did you beer of that man down town
who married two women in on: Jayr
asked Fogg at the tea table toe other
evening. “Isn’t it awful!” exclaimed
the landlady. "Do tell us all about it,
Mr. Fogg.” "Oh, there isn’t much to
tell,” replied Fogg; “ydu know him
well. "1 know him! the villainf*
shrieked the landlady. “Don’t Bay that,
ma'am," said Fogg, soothingly; "don’t
say that. It was the Rev. Mr. Textual,
your beloved paator, and be wouldn't
like to hear yon talk so about him. And,
by the by, he married the women to aa
two likely young fellows as there are In
town.” The landlady says she never
could bear that Fogg.—Boston TVon-
icript.
The Decline of Wlnnepeg.
This is not a very jolly British city to
visit just now, seye a newspaper corree-
spondent, although bed and board were
in such demand a year or eighteen
months ago that the owner of a can
vas tent twenty by sixty feet oonld retire
to the LaKe aT Oomo for toe remainder
of hie Ufa after a month’s rental from it.
But now all ia changed; city lota that
sold aa high ae $1,400 a front foot are
held for an offer, and there ia no one to
m^ke it The city has had its booth and
high fever; and relaepe, and oojla^pe in
in (sot, is upon the capital of Jh« Prov
ince of Manitoba, the first city of the
great Northwest Within two yesrrt&ff
rush was so great from Upper Canada
that there was not room in the care nor
in the hotels of Winnipeg for the crowds-
Demand for anything soon begets supply,
of course, and so frame buildings quick
ly went np for hotels, and then more
leisurely brick buildings followed, and
now it is said the hotels in that city are
as numerous as churches in Rome, where
the learned reader of "Hare” and other
guide-books will remember, there are
churches, or, more accurately speaking,
a church, for every day in toe year. Be
the number aa it may, they are numer
ous and varied in style, from "The
Queen’s," which ia very English in its
musty atmosphere and in the solid
silver or plated service on the tables to
the lodging houses, in imitation of the
English, where for twopence one can
get a musty if not nasty shake-down.
"Yon can Uve on a crust a day in Eu
rope,” says Bayard Taylor, "but below
four cents for a bed you can’t go.”
But Winnipeg, save in the name and
air of ita principal hotel, is not in any
manner an English city. You don’t see
a"red-ooat,’’ and the "bob”—the learned
traveler will remember that a London
policeman is called a "bob,” and be will
also remember that an English shilling
is called a bob—the "bob” in the huge
bnffalo coat will tell you that he came
here from Wisconsin. The people in the
streets are Americans, and the wares in
the shops are Yankee.Bnt the heavy
swell with the glass disc in the left eye
tethered by a string his coat, is, of
course, a Britisher. He is yaw-yawing
ui>on one subject or snother. The city
is American, and in the character of its
houses yon could imagine yourself in
Kansas or Minnesota.
The collapse has l*een a serious one,
but bottom is not touched, and-from the
mattering* one hears, it is not difficolt
to imsgine that the mother oonntiy may
have a refractory South Carolina on hex
hands in the hear future; that, in faet,
there may be a seceding State from the
Dominion of Canada. Then the pre
cedent of aid and comfort and rebel rams
will arise to disturb the Britisher.
AN INVALID.
"Your daughter has a toneh of
laris,” said a physician to a Haw Tosh
lady. "I will call again in tha nun*
ing.”
The mother then went to bar daugh
ter’s room with a look of great anxiety
on her fsoe, and said:
"My dear, the doctor Bays yon have
malaria. What is it? Is it dangerousF
"Not very, mamma, and oh, it’s so
aristocratic I I will wear my Una eflk
wrapper, and we most get some ont glass
bottles for the medicines, and if any of
the Scuffles girls call have them brought
to my room. It will taka them down
a peg or two, I can tall yon.''
And tha sick young woman looked tha
very picture of happiness and oontaut—
Philadelphia OalL
-
WHAT IT MEANT.
"I never saw a man who would pick
np his clothes and pat them where they
belonged,” growled Mrs. Edsell as aha
.slammed her hnsbaad’e pants across tha
back of a chair.
"And I never saw. a woman who
wouldn’t,” replied his nibs, "and go
through ail his pockets and sift ont tha
best parts of his money and rand all Ms
hittinf notes, and ask what 14-lh-H
meant on an insnranoe company’s asm*
orandum.”
"I don’t,” said she.
"Yon do,” said ha, and aa ha dodged
tha hair brash ha ran into Jana
both hands fall of oofflee and
then went out to buy hie breakfast at
some dining room. —Hartford Sunday
Journal.
V
L. ~
A STRIKE IN CHICAGO.
The proprietor of a Chicago
<vas sitting in his private offlea w
announced that a strike had jnrt bMR
inaugurated.
‘Great Scott!” exclaimed the propri
etor, turning to the boy. "What’s tha
matter with the printers this \
"It’s not the printers, n he
‘it’s the editors. The hall
struck. ”
"Oh,” said the proprietor, with a sigh
of relief. "I thought it was the print
er*. Tell them their demands are not
complied with, and then go to tha poet-
office and get the exchanges. It won’t
take me long to write editorials
to last a month. I don’t need
anyway.”—Philadelphia (ML
editors,
"Mr. White," said; a Harrisbmrg law
yer to avritness in the box, "at t!he time
these papers were executed you were
speculating, were you not?” "Yes, sir."
"You were in oil?” "I was.” "And
what arc yon iu now ?” "Bankruptcy,'
was the solemn reply.
The Pullman Oar Company have 13,-
000 blankets. If you don’t believe this
give the potter fifty cents )to a cold
iiHxkt and be will show you one.
HEARD IE a HOTEL.
"Who is that man, papa?"
"He ia one of our eity fathers.”
"What is he doing?”
"He is trying to get his dinner charged
to the city account.”
"Is he not able to pay for his
food?”
"Perhaps; but it is noi tbs
of doing business.” ,
"Will be succeed in converting tfan
clerk to his way of thinking?"
"Not this time.”
"la he what yon oal] a tnatad titty
official’ ?”
"He was, but he got frnstod teti
much; he pays cash now for his
or gata them somewhere
"Will he go homer
"No, he preferb togo hungry."
“Perhaps he will go to work r
"Yes, working the (me
according to slang parianee."
"Yea, papa, bnt I thought it nae Mm
proprietor,^ tha hotat
tha free lunch route, ana-
"My child, when yon
will know more. Ho aonuff Mi
—Bomon cutirtfr,
a