The ledger. [volume] (Gaffney City, S.C.) 1896-1907, August 20, 1896, Image 3
■ - v •
THE LEDGEIT: GAFFNEY, S. C., AUGUST 20, 1806.
SQUIRE RUFUS SANDERS.
Same “Groat Gobs'* of Good Sens*
and Philosophy.
ST
(•rry Cropi and Hard Tim®* — Thr««
VaneraU, Hut “Harry One” from Star
vation — Anicela •* Wlvea and
Salat* as Husbands.
One day Inst week my friend nnd
fellow servant Andy Lucas—which you
will understand
there Is a man
that will travel
all the gait*
and stand
hitched — went
on a horse-
swnppin trip
down in the
Flat Woods.
And then the
next time I saw
Andy lie win*
on his return
back home dismounted nnd afoot nnd
totin of his saddle. In n general off
hand way Andy give it out to me that
he had sold his horse and come put
thirty dollars ahead of the hound*.
Hut Andy's mouth ain't anybody’s
prayer l>ook, nnd my private notion is
that he struck n snag down there and
got hi* socks Kwnpi>ed off of him. I
will go out amongst the boys in a few
days nnd see what I can pick up.
“Powerful Seldom Time*.**
"Don't you forgit it we have IsM-n hav
in’ some powerful seldom time* down
in the old settlement this summer,
Ilufus,” says Aunt Nancy Newton tome
after dinner when she got her pijie load
ed nnd fired and runnin on full time.
"The crops are mighty spotted nnd sor
ry for a common thing, nnd money Is
skcerce ns hen teeth. Hut yet I don’t
reckon the times are j*o soandlonw and
outrageous hard n.s you hear some pim
ple mnkin out that they are.
".Test to set around nnd hear folks
talk you mought think the whole dis
covered country was trembliH nnd tot-
terin on the ragged islges of starvation
nnd ruination. I have l>een stlrrin
nlKJiit and visitin nroun considerable
nnd keepin up with things as l»e«t I
could, and to the best of my ability and
belief the country is safe for a 1-e-e-tle
while longer anyhow. We have bad
about the usual run of sickness In the
settlement, but iw* yet I ain't heard tell
of anybody that got down for the pure
want of somethin to ent nnd wear. I
did hear that one of the Tanner boys
had to go to l>ed one day last week whilst
bis wife washed put his breeches, but
be was up pud fllmut the next doy as
healthy find happy as ever.
“Hut wo aint had but only throe
funerals Ip the settlement this summer
H'hb h you recollect we had four by
this time Inst year—and so far ns I
know parry one of the three didn’t die
from pure hard times and natural
starvation. Old man Seth Wallace died
along In the first, days of July, which
the snnie It is a blessed pity he didn't
go (lend 20 years Indore be was ever
l*orned Into this world. He. was too
tarniil rotten mean and stingy to live
In Hod's country nnd amongst the chil
dren of nature. lie had a big chance of
money lonnt out in the settlement on
high intrust, and when the seasons
*11 h it wrong nnd the crops put in
to fnilin, nnd provisions went up whilst
cotton went down, nnd the general n|>-
jieannents of things got blue and squal
ly all around, the pore old thing took
sick nnd went to l>ed. And then the
more he thought nliont the hard times
and sorry crops nnd that mighty per-
centum on ids money the sicker he got
till finally at last, one day he keeled
pver and |x*ggcd out and went on—well,
pf course it aint for me to sny forcer-
tain which way h 0 went and I would
HOinc rut her pot spend my jiersonni
Opinions on that pint. Hut nt the same
time It iiint much probable to my mind
that Seth Wallace had ever pestered old
Saint Peter like he did the good people
In the Panther Creek settlement.
“Little Sim Hiddins lost his wife
nlKuit the last of June, which the rnme
he didn’t deserve no better nnd site died
with the slow fever. Now If it had
l>cen left with Sim Olddinn I reckon
maybe there would of lieon one death
in the settlement from starvation,
cause he is too lazy and trlflin to make
a livln for one, let. alone two. ITut his
wife, she was a Simpkins nnd a good
jH iirt woman, though I always thought
she. must of been in ( n powerful good no
tion to marry when she took nnd tied
hers»*lf up with little Sim (liddins. As
it, was, howsoever, she nerer suffered
n day nor n, minnlt for somethin to rot
und wear and that which was nice.
What she couldn't rustle up for herself,
with her butter and hm* egg* and a
little extry Rewin, her own folks put
it down there for her, nnd whilst she
was sick the neighbors chipped In to
gether nnd waited on her and done for
her the same as if she had been a mem
ber of every family in the. settlement.
Then after shei died nnd wn* put away
decent nnd proper her old daddy and
brothers got right In l>ehind Sim Old-
dins and hot the ground so hot nnd made
the track so heavy for him till he hixl
to pack his wallet and move his wash In
off to some furren country. I reckon
by this time be bos either jlned the
chain gang or put up nt the poor house.
“And then one of the Kuthorford* —
I forgit which one it was now—lost a
baby, nnd it had the measles, though
from nil I could see nnd hear I hare my
doubts ns to whether It died with any
disease. I rnthcr think it. wnadoctored
to death But anyhow it. didn’t die from
hard times and natural starvation. It
had all the nilk it would take, not to
mention the dead oodles of medicine
which they stuffed it with. No, they
•in’t dyln up with starvation ns yet
down mi the old settlement, Jluf'u*,
though you mought think so Je«t to
ride through there and hear people
talk.
thousand wonders to me that some peo
ple don't starve to death,” Aunt Nancy
went on, after scratchin a match on the
neat of her chair and etrikin a fresh
light. “1 have been lookin and listenin
all the summer to hear some starvation
news from Mister and Mises William
Lumkins. You recollect William Lum-
klns, Ilufus? Well, be married Sarah
Ann Singleton somethin bettor than
three year ago. Now for common I
don’t go around meddlin nnd mlxin
myself up with every little love mess
and weddin match in the settlement,
but thai was one weddin match which 1
tried my level best to oust up and break
off. I bad knew’ the Lumkinsesand the
Singleton** all my life, and I knowed
well and good that William and Sarah
Ann didn’t have no business hookin
themselves up together in the doufde.
harness for life. For why? Well, they
was l»oth jest naturally too good to go
aad got married. She was too good tor
him, nnd he was likewise also too good
for her. She was too good to do any
thing in particular but wear white
drossow and pick flowers and read book
novels and look soft and sweet and love
sick, ns It were, whilst n.s for 'William,
he was born too good. lie w as a good ,
baby, nnd then a good boy, nnd n.s be
growed older nnd bigger hu got lietter
nnd ltetter till, when he cojne tip to Is- a
man, bless gracious, he was so everlast-
ln good till he was good for nothin’.
"When William took to comin up
reglar nnd frequent nt the Singleton
place, and It looked out that a weddin
match mought soon come to pass in
the settlement, I picked my chances
and tried to talk him out of it. Hut then
when he went on to tell me that Sarah
Ann was the apple of his heart and an
angel on the earth I blowed off the dogs
and quit the drive, though not 1:11
after I had give out my plain private
opinions in the case without l»ein mealy
mouth with him.
“ ‘You are grown now nnd call yourself
a man, William, and if you are bound to
marry jest. pitch In and go it,
boots,’ says I. ‘Hut rememlier whnt
your Aunt Nancy told you, W illiam.
I know a few things concernin this
world and the people that live in it, and
after you git married you w ill nighty
soon find out that your angel must cat
victuals nnd wear clothes. More than
that, William, some of these angels—
partielnr them that live in the flesh and
wear dresses instid of wings—they
have babies sometimes,and as the family
grows the store account will grow with
it. You are poor and she is poor, and
about the next thing anybody knows
you will have to gn to the field, whilst
your angel goes to the cook pot and
then to the wash tub. Love is r. good
tiling no doubts in Its place, nnd every
body ought to in* ns good ns they know
how, but with poor folks nnd a grow in
family it takes nnd a whole passle of
’em to run expenses and make both ends
meet. I can see now the way your head
is sot, William, but in the main time.1
nin bound to tell you the truth as my
okl eyes see It. When a |x>or mini takes
a notion to git married he don’t need no
rvr.gcl for a wife. He needs a rale
smart, stlrrin. penrt-motioned, healthy
woman—that’s whnt he needs. It will
lie time enough for you to mate your
self off with an angel when you reach
Flint other and better country, where
they don’t have to eat vietnlns nnd
wear clothes nnd work.*
may not be ns good as saints, but I
ruther think they make better hus
bands and fathers for plain, everyday
women and children.
“Too Good to Kill Grass.”
"Don’t you go and put it out now
that your Aunt Nancy don’t like good
men, Rufus, cause she dot's," says the
old lady, as she knocked the ashes out of
her pipe on mother's new fire screen.
‘Ihitatthe snmetlmel do like a regular,
healthy, human man, and I don’t like
a good, easy good for nothing saintlike
William Lumkins, nnd I don’t care a
ropjier who knows it. Now, .Sarah Ann
Singleton allowed she wouldn’t, marry
nothin but a pluperfect nnd upright
man—or.ethntwaseleanabove doin any
thing that was wrong. And so far as I
know’, she got what she was lookin for
when sho took William. I have
never yet heard tell of him doin any
thing wrong. He is too mortal lazy and
triflin for that. He is so kind and gen
tle nnd tender-hearted and got till In*
won’t wen kill grass when the weather
■'its rale hot. I reckon he is still callin
Sarah Ann hisnngel, whilst in the main-
time the meat 1k»x nnd the meal barrel
Maud empty and the little children go
hungry and dirty, but you know that
wouldn’t suit my style. If I had a hus
band—nnd for all we know I may lievo
one some of these days, the Lord willin
—and lie was to come honeyin around
callin me angel and foolin off his time
whilst the grass run away with the
crops and the poorhouse loomed up in
the near distance, I would spit on him—
declare to gracious I would. I would a
heap sight ruther he would call me jest
plain Nancy, and then go on about his
business and keep up w ith the store ac
count. it maybe mought not sound ex
actly right for me to say so, but as I’m a
woman I would ruther have a man that
would do wrong sometimes t han to have
one that wouldn’t do nothin.
"I know it ain’t none of my business,
but as l started out to say, if it comes to
pass th:r. you mought hear of anybody
flyin from pure hard times and natural
starvation in the Panther Crock sett le
nient indurin of these hard times you
can jest go ahead n.nd put on mouruin
for Mister nnd Mises William Lum-
kins. There ain’t so very mueh danger
of men and women starvin, but when
crops are short and money isskercc and
times are hard there ain’t no tolliu. what
will happen to the saints nnd angels in
this eonntry.”
May the (lod of the orphnnt and the
widow bless theso plain old lliiit-nnd-
stcol women, which the same my Aunt
Nancy Newton is one of whom.
RUFFS HANDKK8.
AIM* AND THE WEATHER,
i
Explains About tho Extreme Heat
of July and August.
Unlit* Him for III* Work-Cun not Hoc
in tho Garden — Mrs. Arp lior-
ron-s n Ilahy and Hill
Tries Not to Snore.
QUEER MANIA
OF A SICILIAN.
Work
“Angel* sad Itatil#*.”
•TalkIn about hnrd times nnd
money and atarvation, Kufua—It to *
"Well, jest as I lowed, wbnt I said to
William nlioiit Sarah Ann went in on
one side of his head nnd come out on the
other, and whnt other people told
Sarah Ann about William went in and
come out the same n ay. And so conse
quent hilly It want very long Ix'fore
there was a second-class weddin in the
settlement. They never had nothin to
start wit h and they nint. got nothin yet
rxeeptin a few odd weddin cloth“» and
n promlsln crop of children. They have
been livln around nnd nlxmt from pil
low to post nnd from hand to mouth,
so to soy. This year they are livln on
n poor little old wore out farm over on
tothrr side of the creek, nnd William
rails himself runnin of a farm, but he
ain’t. He did make out to pitch a little
crop, nnd, with some help from his an
gel, he did manage to work it over one
time, ami since then the ]x>nr little old
farm has Is'cn runnin of itself. William
has always been ft mighty good man,
everybody says, but it does look to me
like if I was a man and lui'l took nnd
went and married myself off with an
angel I wouldn’t then turn around nnd
make her work in the field. I don’t
think angels have got any business
eookin and wn.hln a ml tendin children,
ihk! tt sicjiis to me like they would look
particular odd and curious like out in
the hot sun with a fly bonnet on, chop-
pin cotton. Now docs your general
ojdnion run along that line, Rufus?’’
"They run right plum square with
yours, Aunt Nancy,” says I, and the
good old soul went on to say:
“You know Nancy Newton—you have
knowed her now nigh o- ♦<» fifty years—
nnd you know full well . ,e never did
give herself any tremendiu* big sight
of worriment about yokin up with a
man. And yet, Rufus, you never heard
me nay I wouldn’t marry any livln ninn
that the snn shine* on, and you never
will. I never have so much as made out
like I wouldn’t git married if I got a
good chance. I ain’t"no angel, ns yet.
1 am nothin hut a woman—jest a plain
old female woman without any fly-
wheels or fancy trimmins—and there
aint no tellln whnt mought of took
place before now if the right man had
come along at the right time nnd put
In his credentials In the right way. But
let me tell you something, Rufus San
ders. As I have said l>efore, I aint no
angel, but, even In my old days. If I
was to take up a fool notion to git mar
ried I wouldn’t want to marry no saint
like William Lumkins. I hope to dwell
lu jwnoeund unity with the saints some*
time and somewhere* In the futur®
hereafter, but so long ns I live in thd
flewh nnd remain over in this vain and
fleetin world hero below, the common
run of |H'oplc are good enough company:
for me. And If I must give me a man
—give me a man. Plain, everyday men
Kept h IJeRlnien of Sculptors nt
ou Grotcx<|tio Stutlicit.
The Sicilian prince of Yalguancmat
the beginning of this century was a
monomaniac of a mre description. He
succeeded to one of the. largest fortunes
in Europe, his hobits were studious ntul
economical, he hod no children; but,
in spite of these tulvnnltigcs for saving
iikonev, ho contrived to rnln himself.
The prlnoe had n fancy for grotesque
statues, with which he adorned the
stately mansion of his forefathers.
Many descriptions of the. place are ex
tant, for It. was renowned through Eu
rope In its daj\ Brydono visited it and
lie has left, us a pleasant picture. Ap
proaching by a noble avenue, one found
the palace encircled by an "army” of
monsters. “The nlrsurdity of tlu*
v retched Imagination which created
them Is not less astonishing than its
wonderful fertility,” says Brydone.
“Some were a compound of five or six
r.nitnnls which have no resemblance In
nature. In one Instance the bend of a
lion was set. upon the neck of a goos-',
with the IkmIv of a. lizard, the eye of a
goat and the tail of a. fox, Upon the
back of this object stood another with
five or six heads nnd n grove of horns.
There Is no kind of a horn in the world
that. he. has not collected, and his pleas
ure Is to see them nil flourishing on the
same skull.”
Of such horrors there wen* GOO In tin*
avenue and the courtyard alone when
Brydone saw t.he collection, and the
prince maintained a regime of sculptors
who were rewarded proportionately to
their success in designing new nnd un
paralleled cdhiblnations. Theeffcet up
on a nuperstitfou* peasantry may lie
imagined. So serious was the agitation
that the government of Sicily threat
ened to demolish the wondrous array
several times, butn prince of. Vnlguam mi
was not to be offended in those days
without tie gravest cause.
The inside of the house was eccentric
in another fashion. Here the madman
divert eel himself with columns and
arches n.nd pyramids of cups and sau
cers, teapots nnd the like, cemented to
gether. One column, for Instance,
started from a great porcelain vase of
shape familiar in bedrooms, but not
elsewhere; the shaft wn* teapots, with
the spouts protruding, graduated in size
up to a capital of flower|>ots. The open
ings of the chimney pieces were en
crusted In this manner, the chimney
pii'ccs were loaded up to the ceiling, nnd
the innguiflcenfc rooms of the palace
were divided by fantastic arches of the
same construction. China was rare ami
fine In Sicily at that day, and most of
the pieces thus treated had great value.
The prince's lied room was n chandler of
supreme horrors. Jleptlleo awful Tx-
yond conception had their Imnic there,
intermixed with phvising hunts nnd
statues which if turned, showed a skele
ton or a hideous representation of de
crepitude. We have, never observed an
illusion to these things in a modern
work of travel. Berhajis the gm*rn-
ment di-stroyed them at the prince’s
death, lieggared by his mania.—London
Standard.
The renattf of Promptn***.
Lott—One never loses anything by
keeping his engagements punctually,
Stone—Except half an hour's timo
waiting for the other fellow.—Tlt-BIts.
—The spirits of truth nnd of freedom
—these arc the plllara of socletyr*
Ibsen.
Julius Caesar was a very great man.
He was a democrat and the leader of his
party when only 33 years old, and held
the highest office before he was 10. But
1 don’t understand what made him cut
a sliei* out of the middle of the year
and name it July. And his son (Jus did
the same thing and named it August. If
tlvey wanted to dismember the year
and add two more mouths why didn’t
they take it off the tail end nnd lap
them on to December. I don’t like
July nor August nohow. It seems to
me they get hotter and hotter ns the
years roll on. I can’t work in my gar
den. It is so warm that I can’t gather
tin* vegetables nor mow grass for the
cow with any comfort, I sweat all
over with perspiration nnd have to
change my garments every day. We
don’t go to IhsI until 1o’clock and
can’t sleep good for an hour after, but
I reckon it will conic all right again
before long. I reckon so. It always
•lot's. Whatever is Is right.
My wife borrowed the baby again
last night. Ever and anon she has to
have a baby to stay over night and sleep
with her to remind her of the good old
times when she nursed her own nnd
fondled them and patted them in the
restless night. Ro little Caroline, who
is the youngest grandoild, was left with
her to comfort her nnd it made lioth
happy, for the little thing loves her
grandma and hardly knows which
mother she belongs to. I got to sleep
nliout midnight, but my olfactories or
esophagus or larynx or throttle valve
or whatever you call it was out of order,
and I suppose I was snoring pretty live
ly when I heard a voice calling me:
"William, William.” Asleep or awake
that uxoriun voice always makes me
jump with alacrity. I hastened over to
her corner of the room to see what was
the matter and ran against, the center
table and a c hn : r and waited for orders.
Suddenly she whispered: "I just want
ed you to turn over. You snore so loud
you will wake up the baby. Don’tsnorc
hO,"
With a subdued feeling I stnrtid back
to my bed, but it was awful dark and I
couldont find tlie round table that was
in the middle of the room. Slowly nnd
cautiously I felt my way, when sud
denly my nose collided with the top
of the mantelpiece. This guided me to
my little bed again, and I assumed a
tired nnd recumbent position and rumi
nated on the battle of life. But I
miiKjent snore was the order. The baby
imistont lie disturbed. This injunction
weighed so heavily U|>on me that I
was afraid to fall into a deep sleep nnd
of getting sonorous again, so I slum
bered along and dreanved I was travel
ing to Heaven or some haven of rest,
nnd on every bnrn nnd Imnrd fence nnd
rocky cliff tlwere was n red letter sign
like a patent medicine sign, ard it sa d:
“Don’t. Snore! Don’t Snore! Don't
Snore!" nnd by any by we reached a
high mountain and there was a youth
climbing it with a banner, nnd I thought
it was the excelsior chap we used to see
in’ the blue-hack sjiolling book, but as
tho breeze unfolded the banner I saw
It was “Don't Snore, Don’t Snore." Just
then 1 was awakened by a gentle son
orous olfactory sound that came from
the other corner of the room, and so
I ventured over there nnd touched her
tenderly, and whispered: "Don't snore;
you will wake up the baby.”
This baby-raising business Is about
the biggest business I know of nnd the
most retqxmsible. 1 was cue of ten
that my mother raised, and my wife
has raised ten, nnd they have raised ten,
and it looks like some of our posterity
are on the same ancestral line. Hut
there were no grandparents in our fam
ily nnd we little chaps had to rough it
like Cain nnd Abel did. Nowadays It
takes two parents nnd three or four
grandparents nnd several aunts nnd a
nurse and a baby carriage to raise a
child. Tint that is all right if the child is
blessed with such privileges. The dear
little tilings ought to have a good time
In infancy, for trouble will surely conic
when they get older, nnd I rejoice that
tl»c modern children have a 1 otter time
than wo did. I remember the little
brown cradle that we were all rocked
in, nnd when there wasent a baby enr-
ringo in the town. I remenils*r when
the average child had no nurse save its
mother, and she did the housework and
made all the garments, too. and didcnl
know she was having a hnrd time. The
little chaps dident have their faces
washed nor their clothes changed but
once or twice a day, and they were set
down on the floor or the ground and
given some homemade playthings, nnd
they, too dident know there was any
thing better. Even the children of
wealthy parent* were turned over to
the' little darkies ami were happy in
their keeping. I remember when Evan
Howell, the ]>ol!tirnI dictator, was bob
bing around with the little niggers and
got so dirty playing In the sand you
couldcnt s|K)t him nor tell tothcr from
which. But now his little grandchil
dren go around in laces nnd rlhlxm*
end gold buttons and ride In a $10 bnhy
carriage and bathe In a $10 bathtub,
and Evan thinks It Is nil right, rud I
reckon it Jx. Our* come as near doing
the same thing ns they can, and so do
everybody else'*. It is n beautiful trait
in human nature to Improve on your
own raising nnd to sweeten the hnrd-
of childhood. But the time will
come, when the boys nnd the girls get
big etHMigh to lie useful nnd then they
should Is'iunde to know it. They should
lie rained to habits of industry. The
girl of ten years should help her mother
In housework nnd in nursing the baby.
The boy of ten should begin with tbn
hoe In the garden nnd the nx at the
woodpile. The piano Is all right, and
so Is the pony, hut work should b*
mixed with pleasure. Sometimes I think
there is too much schooling and col-
Icging going on in this generation
nnd too little work. The curriculum of
our public, schools is now nine long
years, sny from eight to sevi ntcen, nnd
then comes three or four more of col
lege, and no work in all that time, no
habit* of industry, nothing but l>ooks,
books, books. There is hardly a swift
girl graduate in the state w ho can make
her own dresses. She goes to the mil
liner nnd keeps her poor old father on
a. strain. Perhaps the college boy takes
an honor nnd gets his name in the
papers, and then, of course, he must
study law and dabble in politics and
depend on tho old man for support.
These kind of nice, smart, good-for-
nothirg boys nr* in every city and
town nnd village. They know nothing
of the practical concerns of life. They
couldcnt plan a house nor run a saw
mill nor an Ice factory nor a brick
yard nor even a little farm. They know
nothing of horticulture or the science
of growing flowers and evergreen. They
couldcnt hang a door or make a gate
latch or put up a roller window cur
tain. But they know a little Latin and
Creek nnd some geometry and perhaps
can tell you whether the deluge came
before or after the flood, and they can
play baseball and football and dance
the german nnd wear tanned shoes and
brllyhands to perfection, hut they are
good Ikivs and so smart nnd have such
idee manners and winning ways that
their mothers nr* proud of them, but
their old fathers are serious nnd per
plexed. College life is very fascinating
l)oth to Txjys and to girls, but to most of
them it Is a waste of precious time.
Education should bo mixed with labor.
It should lie hard to get. not easy.—Bill
Arp, In Atlanta Constitution.
PYTHONESS AND PRIEST.
THE 0DTL00K.
The I.utter XVns IncroluIonH ami Junttflcd
111* Unbelief.
Mdlle. Conedon, "the Angel Cnbrirl,”
ns her votaries called her, after going
up like a rocket has come down like a
■tick. Site has not •oven obtained a
gilded retirement after all her no
toriety, for the i.‘2,0:)O damages she
claimed in a recent libel ease were re
duced to five pounds and the three
extra postmen who groaned under the
weight of mail bags addressed to her
have been withdrawn.
Before allowing Mdlle. Courdon to
sink into oblivion the following inter
view with Abbe Vnlndier, the very
respected chaplain of La Koquette,
who speeds the parting criminals on
tiie scaffold, may l>e interesting ns the
conclusion of one of the most curious
chapters on superstition in modern
times. The nbl>e, by an ingenious
stratagem. cotui>clled the lady to con
fess that she was no more a "voynnte"
than fortune tellers, who are allowed
to fool credulous jx'ople at French
fairs.
Anxious to see the “Angel Cnbrie!”
for himself, the nbl>c called in the Rue
du Paradis, and, on handing in his
card, he was immediately received.
On seeing him the “voynnte" began,
os usual, to pour fortli “ixmts rimes"
which meant nothing. The priest, in
terrupting. asked whether he could
speak to the angel. Mdlle. Courdon
nuulo some mysterious signs, turned
round nnd round in her chair nnd said:
“Now you can question the angel.”
“Cur dixit angelus—” Ix-gan the
nbbe.
“I beg your pardon.” remark: d
Mdlb'. Courdon, “but if you speak Lat
in the angel docs not understand.”
The nblie held under ids arm a lx>\
containing a pyx, in which there is
usually a consecrated host. “Can
this angel see inside this?” he naked.
"Certainly.”
"Whnt is inside, then?”
The “voyante" sought to turn the
conversation by reciting psalms nnd
disconnected sentences.
"Suppose," said the nbbe, “it was a
consecrated host ?”
"Oh, then, the angel would go down
on his knees nnd pray.”
"Then,” said the priest, rising nnd in
a solemn tone, “the angel must know
whether or not I have a host in this
box.”
Mdlle. Conedon dropped on her
knees. Tears flowed from her eyes.
The angel was speaking through her.
"He knows the host is in the 1k>x; he
sees It nnd he adores it.”
The prayers over, Abbe Vnlndier
sold, severely: “You are not a ‘voy
ante.’ You are not inspired. You
have proved It. You see, there is no
host inside.” Again the floodgates of
Mdlle, Couedon’s eyes were opened
nnd she asked the priest’s forgive
ness.—Paris Cor. London News.
The Repeating of Old Thing*.
The great Napoleon may snceringly
have called us a "nation of shopkeep
ers" (unc nation boutiquicre), and have
expressed the opinion that "Providence
is on the side of the big battalions,” but
the first is borrowed from Adam Smith
("Wealth of Nations,” Volume 2, pub
lished in 177f», when Napoleon was a
child, nnd the second is a plagiarism
from Voltaire’s letter to M. 1c Riche,
dated February fl, 1770, “Dleu est tmi-
Jours pour les gros bataillons.”)
“Though I say It a* I shouldn’t” is used
In slightly altered form by Beaumont
and Fletcher nnd afterward quoted by
Colley Cibber nnd Fielding. King
Charles II. was of opinion that a parlia
mentary debate In his time was “as
good ns a play.” (It would be Interest
ing to know what his merry majesty
would think of our legislators of to
day.) For "Murder will out" we must
turn to (ieoffrey Chaucer, who, in hi*
quaint way of s|*clllng, tells us “Mordr*
wol out.” ("The Xonnes PreestesTnle,”
line l.I.ft.’iH.) When we say we will
“leave no stone unturned” we are quot
ing the answer of the Delphic oracle to
the inquiries of Polycrntes ns to the
best means of discovering the treasure
buried on the field of Plntnen by Mnr-
donius. To "make a virtue of neees-
■Ity" is from Chancer ("KnightesTnle,”
line 3,014), but the phrase is used also
by Knls'luls. Shakespeare and Dryden.
•—Chamber*’ Journal.
Sam Jonos on tho Uncertainty of
the Political Situation.
II* Doesn’t Heller* There Will He Whole
sale Robbery by the Gold Hag* Nor
Wholesale Repudiation by
the dllvor Hags.
In common with others who think I
have been more or less disturbed by
what 1 see and hear as relates to the
future of our great country,! know not
how much a disordered liver may have
to do with these forebodings and dis
trustful anxieties at times. Some days
the outlook is gloomy; other days I
feel that there is a chance yet for our
country. Some days it looks like a
revolution; some days it don’t. Some
days it looks like financial disaster and
absolute bankruptcy to the whole
business; other days it looks like com
merce ami agriculture and the govern
ment will move on in the even tenor of
their way.
We have now l>cfore us three months
of agitation with its declamatory ami
inflammatory speeches. This is said
to be a campaign of education. If the
blind lead the blind the whole business
will fall Into the ditch. After a hun
dred years of experience with their
succession of sue und failures,
triumphs and de.^Rts. mistakes and
miscarriages, stifl *■<» survive. 1
lieve this country will survive McKin
ley, advocating the gold standard and
protective tariff, can do at least as well
for us as Harrison did the four years
he was in, though the people may be as
much dissatisfied with him nnd tho
things he advocates at the end of four
years as they were with Harrison and
his crowd. Bryan, with his agrarian
ism, free silver, etc., if they should
conic into vogue in November by voice
of the people, I doubt if they will ut
terly ruin and disrupt the country.
As much ns I am opposed to the freo
and unlimited coinage of silver sixteen
to one, yet I am sure we have had worse
things than those to contend w ith in the
past history of this country. I am sure
of this fact, our barns arc full w ith com
and wheat, our fields with cattle, our
I>ens with hogs. The election of cither
•andidnte will not affect the quantity or
quality of corn and wheat nnd oats and
cotton and cattle nnd hogs, and really
these arc the things we live on. We
cannot eat gold or silver, or wear green
backs and clearing house certificates.
I Ix'lievo in the personal integrity of
both McKinley nnd Bryan. I believe
the crowd running with McKinley have
th® money, the exporienee, and largely
the brains of the country on their side;
while Bryan and his hosts have oratov^
and theories and debts and dissatisfac
tion on their side. No living man can
predict w ith any certainty the result of
the November elections. It seems that
fusion with the populists i*; Bryan’s
only chance. The outlook is not. first-
class for fusion. 1 believe t!><' populist
party Is the most, inhomogeneous, nn-
inixable, nnfS-stick-togeth: r crow d in
the universe. I would sooner attempt
to climb n ladder with an armful of eel*
and get to the top w ith all of them as to
try to fuse anything w ith the populists.
The populist* will have the last word
and the last say in every argument.and
are ns dogmatic n.s theoJd negro preach
er who declared that immersion w as the
only true Scriptural doctrine, and look
ing over at the Methodist negroes in
his audience, he said: “You look at me
a' much ns to ask me how does you
know it is, nnd I tell you dnt’snoneof
your business.” I nm nt this time spend
ing a week nt a Methodist, comp meet
ing near Boston, Mass. A week ago I
was at the Chautauqua at Salem, Neb.;
a week before that in Louisiana. This
tour takes in a good scope of our coun
try. The more I sec and know, the
less I know ns to results. Fred Wil
liams is stirring up all New England
with his logic nnd statistics with Sewall
in the procession.
. (Jordon nnd Tnlmnge, so the pa-
l>ers say, have declared for Bryan and
in favor of free silver. Tammany New
York is joining the procession w ith Hill
and Whitney n.s dumb ns a dead oyster,
and Mr. Cleveland off fishing; while
the business interest of our country i*
suffering from ocean to ocean. Stock
and 1x>ik?s going down. Bears to top.
Prices depressed nnd business almost
at a standstill, but still there is plenty
to cat and wear in the country, and
while the three months of discuafiion
nnd education are wearing away, we
will cat and drink whether wc .-hull be
merry or not.
A stoical w ill, a cheerful mind arc es
sential in these times. We need to
keep cool; we need to keep down pas
sion; we need to keep in a good humor;
we need to have little to do with the
orator who thc^ws mud and calks nil
people bad names who do not agree
with him. Repudiat ion on one side and
robl>ors on the other, if we listen to the
orators of the day and Ix-iii vo them.
I do not believe there will be whole
sale robbery on the jmrt of the gold
bugs, nor wholesale repudiation by the j
silver bugs. I do not know what a
change will do for us; I simply know)
that most anything will beat what we;
have now. We can but swap the devil!
for a witch. I don’t know which is '
preferable.
SAM P. JONE8.
Speed of Carrier lUgcon*.
Experiment* made with carrier
pigeons in connection with various Eu
ropean armies show that tlu* speed of
the carrier in calm weather and for a
short distance is about 1,210 yards a
minute. With a very strong wind in the
direction of the flight o bird has reached
1,080 yards a minute.
Shot Carried Fifteen Mile*.
The longest distance that a shot has
been fired is a few yards over 15 mile*,
which was the range of Krupp’a 130*
ton steel gun, firing a shot weighing
2,GOO pounds. The 111-ton Armstrong
gun lin* an extreme range of 14 milea,
firing a shot weighing 1,800 pounds and.
requiring 900 pound* of powder.
|
j
' 4
I
•
I