Newspaper Page Text
TWO DOLLARS A YEAR.
THE TWO FLEETS.
The sun was bright ami the sea was bland,
And the tide danced in as merrily,
When a sailor pushed his boat from the sand;
And the waves kept time with his homely
glee, e
For the sailor hummel, ‘‘Two fleets there
be:
And one sails over the sun-lit waves,
Ami one lies under the sombre sea.”
The sea was bland and the sun was bright,
Ami a favoring wind blew fresh ami five,
And the less'ning sail disappeared from sight;
But the odd refrain still remained with me
While the sailor sang—“Two ileets there be:
Ami one sails over the sun-lit waves.
And one lies under the sombre sea.”
The tide danced out with the freight it bore;
Ah, the tidecame back soon smilingly,
But the sailor’s boat never touched the shore;
Ami I sing to myself, for 1 cannot tlee
From the haunting strain, “Two fleets there
be:
Ami one sails over the sun-lit waves,
And one lies under the sombre sea.”
So one by one from the shining world
The fleet sail down to the dismal lee —
To the fleet « here every' sail is furled;
And my heart kee|>-1 ime to the mystic key.
While "1 drift ami sing, “Two fleets there
lie:
And one sails over the sun-lit waves,
Ami one lies under the sombre sea.”
So a little while ami he who sings
Shall hum no more his songs to thee;
So thev who watch his sun-lit wings
.Shall hear, perchance, when they cannot
The lips which sing. “Two fleets there be:
Ami one sails over the sun-lit waves,
And one lies under the sombre sea.,’
—Eugene Hoile* in Harper's Magazine.
A Q I EER TTrOI^TFcUKR ENIT.
Thirteen Families Floored by It.
Thomaston Letter to Waterbury (Conn.) Ameri
can.
If reports are true we really have a
haunted house within the limits of the
town, though not far from the boundary
line separating us from Plymouth. Many
families have moved into it but without
much ceremony have moved out again in
a few days. A well known teamster says
he has moved thirteen families into and
out of that house. It is said that myste
rious noises are invariably heard at night,
such as scratching and pounding in the at
tic, the slamming of doors and violent
opening and shutting of windows. An old
and squeaky pump works up and down at
interwals as though impelled by some in
visible agency. When a person goes up
or down stairs in the night in search of
these mysterious noises, it is said that
footsteps seem to follow him on the stair
way but nothing is seen to account for
them. One of the late tenants reports
that after spending a sleepless night on
account of the queer noises, he found in
the morning that the furniture in the
kitchen had been disturbed. The water pail
which he left standing in the sink had
been hurled across the room into the op
posite corner, and his tin dinner pail had
been thrown down from the table into an
other corner. No apparitions seem to
have appeared to any one, but the com
plaint is of the unpleasant and unusual
noises which are hard to account for, but
which many of the unbelieving are in
clined to attribute to rats. A neighbor,
while in seach of some stray chickensone
night near the house, is reported to have
said that he hoard these noises going on
in the house which was at that time ten
ant less. All at once he received a shock
as if from an electrical battery, after
which he ceased to tarry near the place
but gave up ‘he search for his chickens
and took a “bee line” for home. How
could our electricians account for this?
Could it have come form the telephone
wire which passes very near the house, or
was it simply aground current, developed
by some one trying to signal theeentral
office.
Tourists in Ancient HoinK
The London Times gives the following
summary of a lecture delivered at the
London Institution by Professor Mahaffy,
of Dublin, on “Tourists and Traveling in
the Earlv Days of the Roman Empire.”
In ancient days, as now also, men trav
eled not simply as explorers or merchants,
but for the sake of travel. The necessary
conditions for travel were general peace
and good thoroughfares. Rome, from the
August an age, provided general peace ami
good thoroughfares. The Pax. Humana
insured immunity from brigands by land
and from pirates ‘by sea. It gave unity of
taxation and freedom of trade from the
nuisance of fiscal frontiers. It blessed
men with a common coinage, the Roman
money being as eagerly coveted by the
barbarians as the British sovereign is by
the rudest tribes in our own days. What
a wonderful network of roads overspread
the Roman empire was indicated by their
splendid remains. The lecturer sketched
the five great arterial routes, one of which
crossed the Alps over one or other of the
four passes to three centres —Augsburg,
Rheims, and Orleans. The branch from
Rheims made for Boulogne, crossed the
(hannelto Riehborough. and took our
own Watling street from London to York,
and even to the Pictish Wall. Qi course
tiie Roman ships could not vie w ith our
ocean steamers, but they rivaled for speed
our sailing packets of sixty years ago, as
was proved by many curious instances re
corded. St. Paul came from Reggio to
Puteoli in a single day. a passage which
takes even a fast steamer from twelve to
fourteen hours now. From numerous
cases it could be interred that the Romans
went in good sailors trom six to eight
miles an hour. Apart trom the State sys
tem of posting for imperial functionaries
and dispatches, of w hich a lYill account
was given, there was no lack either ot
commodious and swift vehicles or ot cheap
and comfortable inns. These last had
their signboards, such as the Cock, the
I treat and the Little Eagle, the Snakes,
the Crane, etc. The landlord of the Mer
cury and Apollo, at Marseilles, thus ad
vertised his commercial house:
“Here Mercury promise gain, Apollo
health, Spartianiis the host guarantees
board and lodging. He who now turns in
here will be the better for it. Stranger,
consider where you will put up.”
This signboard reminded us that many
then, as now, traveled for health to the
seaside resorts to seek a Southern cli
mate. mineral w aters, etc. Others travel
ed for studv to such universities as those
of Rhodes,’Alexandria, or Athens. But
there were also crowds of mere tourists,
w ho traveled to see the world, and more in
those days for w hat man had made it,
than, as now, to see nature in all her
wildness.
Why He Cooled His Wrench.—A
conductor on a Third avenue horsecar
was seen last evening exposing to the
cold air the little iron wrench used on the
rod eonneeted w ith the fare register, lie
was asked what hewasdoing. “(livingit
a little freeze,” he replied. “You see
that lad in the corner?” indicating a young
man in :• stale of advanced somnolency.
“Well- In 1 told me to wake him up at Tenth
.street. . .lest watch me doit.” Hethen
entered the ear and applied the chilled
metal to the slumberer’s neck. The
voting man leaped to his feet, rolled his
eyes in a bewildered way, and exclaimed:
“ W hat—how—w here ami? Who st rue k
-This is Tenth street, young feller,” in
terrupted the conductor.
“Ob! ah! Thank you,” said the young
man, getting oft' the ear in some confusion,
followed by the unchecked laughter of the
passengers.
“That alwavs fetches 'em,” said the
collector of fares. "It's a wrinkle that
all of the boys hasn't ketched onto yet.
You never sees me tuggin' and pastin’
lush lads who fall asleep in my barooch.
1 jest gives ’em an application of cold
steel. Os course I can’t do this in warm
weather, which is a reason 1 wishes with
all mv heart there was more winter in a
year. ’ Not regular, downright winter,
that friezes a man onto his car, but just
enough winter to give my wrench the
chilis. I hopes the comp'any will tumble
enough to the idea as to give each con
ductor an ice box for to freezj his wrench
in summer, so he can wake up lush
passengers. It’s better’ll an alarm clock.”
—A’< >r York Sun.
That Husband of Mine
Is three times the man he was before he
began using “Well’s Health Renewer.”
sl. Druggists.
There is reason to believe that the
power of the more intractable explosives
will soon be made simply motive force —
~;it least some of them, judging from some
us Herr Beck’s experiments.
£hintuw Mbrning Sdcgram.
GOLI) HUNTERS IN THE SNOW.
BY JOAQUIN MILLER.
The high-born snow commands the hills,
The snow enthralls the level lands;
The snow arrests the hast’ning rills,
The snow enshrouds their icy hands;
And east or west or high and low
Gleams but one shining.sheen of snow.
Two wild and stormy streams of hu
manity, one from Oregon and the other
from California, had joined and flowed on
tumultuously together. They were on
their way to the new mines of Idaho. On
Comas prairie winter swept suddenly over
them, and there, down in a deep canon
that cleft the widewintery valley through
the middle, the stormy stream of life stop
ped as a river that is frozen over.
A thousand men, trying to escape the
blizzard that swept over the valley, tumbl
ed hurriedly into the canon together, and
took shelter there as best they could
beside great basalt blocks that had fallen
from the high, steep cliffs of the canon, or
under the crags—anywhere to escape the
bitter cold.
And how the Californian did despise the
Oregonian! lie named him the “Webfoot”
because his feet were large and he came
from the land of clouds ami rain. And
how the Oregonian did hate the Califor
nian! He named him the “Horse Thief.”
But as there was more truth than poetry
in it, unlike the other appellation, it did
not stick. The bitter enmity and the bad
blood of Germany and France was here
displayed in epitome, and in its worst
form. ’ A wonder, indeed, if there would
not be some sort of tragedy played here
before the storm was over.
The Oregonian wore long hair at that
date, 1861. Leggins and a blanket with
his head thrust through a hole in the
centre made his chief raiment. A tall
peaked hat, with a band about it, some
thing like the brigand of the stage, covered
his long, straight, and stringy hair. Some
times he wore an old slouch hat. He was
rarely without the blanket. He was never
without the leggings.
The Californian w ore the traditional red
shirt in that day, with hardly an excep
tion. He often carried two pistols in the
great leather belt, and always one, with a
bowie knife. He generally wore dark
trousers tucked inside of great, long
legged leather boots. If he was “on the
shoot,” or “come from the shoulder,” a
little investigation would in many cases
disclose an extra pistol or two tucked
down deep in those boots. And even
w hisky bottles have been known to nestle
there. lie rarely wore a coat. If he was
cold he put on his other shirt. The coat
interfered with his fighting, and he de
spised it. And how he would howl at the
long, lean and silent Oregonian as he
marched about in hrs moccasins and leg
gins, with his blanket tight about him and
his hands quite hidden.
“Hello, webfoot! where’s your hands?
Come, show' us your hands. Are you
heeled? You can’t tight that way!”
“Try me and see?”
The blanket flew back,, two hands shot
forward, and the two garrulous and med
dlesome Californians let the webfoot go;
for he was heeled. '
We had but little wood here; and that
was of the worst quality—yellow and
green and frozen. The little river gurgled
plaintively for the first day or two as it
struggled on and ground through its icy
banks. But soon its lips were sealed, and
the snow' came down and covered the
silent and dead w aters as with a shroud.
The day after the little tilt between the
parties as above described, the two Cali
fornians walked tip and down before the
quiet and unpretentious camp, only a few
steps from their own, for we were all hud
dled in together there, and talked very
loud and behaved in a very insulting
manner. The canon was all on tiptoe.
The men began to forget their misery in
the all-absorbing topic of the coming light.
Cautious old men held aloof and tried to
keep peace. They kept most of the men
out on the windy plain, freezing there
with the half-starved and freezing mules,
horses and ponies, that pawed pitifully
and helplesly in the snow, w hich was now'
almost to their breasts. This it was
hoped would give the men something
better to do ami keep them from battle.
But the dreadful situation —the cold, the
hunger, the possibility of all perishing
there together, seemed only to madden the
men. That night a duel was arranged to
take place at dayligh on, the plain above.
The Californian and the Oregonian were
to fight with rifles at ten paces. Both
were centre, deadly shots. Both had their
friends and backers. The whole canon
seemed about to be drawn into the tight.
Some of the men were now very hungry.
All w ere cold, cross, desperate. A general
battle w as imminent.
Let us look at these silent, lean and de
spised Oregonians in their blankets.
Comely they w'ere not,nor graceful. They
were not well read, nor had the eyes of
the world been upon them as on the Cali
fornians. But be it remembered that
away back, before California was at all
known, these Oregonians had met under
the pines, and most emphatically, as well
as ungrammatically, proclaimed’ that they
were a part of the United States, and not
of England. They had decreed war
against'aggressive tribes, had raised an
army, maintained it in the field, coined
their ow n money, and provided all on their
own account. Their coin was pure gold,
not a particle of alloy. The beaver on the
one side of their crude coin showed the
quiet industry of Oregon's pastoral people.
The sheaf of wheat on the other side
showed that plenty rewarded the husband
man.
Against this record the Californian had
little to exhibit. He had washed down
hills and led rivers over the mountains.
He had contributed much to the metallic
currency of the world, but he had done
little else. And I take the responsibility
of saying that, as compared with the
despised Oregonian, notwithstanding his
Vigilantes and great show' of valor and
chivalry, he was a braggart and a bully.
But these old and deadly quarrels did not
have the ears of the world at the time,
and, being now happily forgotten, they
can concern no one, 1 have only throw n
in this last paragraph or two to show T how
dangerous anil how deadly was this
quarrel we now had on hand. The horses,
mules and ponies were freezing in the
snow w here they stood. Two of the guards
did not come in at .midnight. They were
found nestlnig against a dead mule on
the hill frozen still’. But still the tight
must go on.
The moon hung high and calm and cold
right overhead. The stars stood out and
sparkled in the frostlike fire. The keen
cold wind swept the plain above and
threatened to fill the canon w ith drifting
snow. Wolves, that had eaten only the
dead horses up to this time, now began to
attack the weak and dying. One of the
thousands that hovered about had even
that night laid hold of a man. There
were enough wolves gathering about us.
howling, fighting, devouring our dead
horses, and even each other, to attack and
eat us where we stood. But still the fight
must go on. The deadly hatred must find
some expression. Fortunate if it should
end with this duel just before us.
Fleecy clouds began to drive over the
moon at midnight and drift away toward
Idaho. The stars went out as though the
tierce wind had blown out the myriad
lights of heaven. Then the snow began
to fall thick and fast, as the men sat about
their feeble fires and talked of the coming
duel. These groups grew as white as
huddled flocks ot sheep. Now and then a
man would get up and shake himself, and
the snow would slide ofl’ in little ava
lanches thickft- than your palm. The
tires began to perish under this incessant,
unceasing dropping of snow. Tne wind
ceased, and the snow then simply possess
edthe world. The fires all died out. It
was a weird, deathlike darkness. The
men could not see each other’s faces.
When they spoke it was as though some
one called from deep dow n in a well. They
groped about, feeling for each other, as
they tried to creep under the blankets in
the’ snow. Now and then a blanketed
Oregonian w’ould And his outstretched
hand twisted in the snowy beard of a red
shirted C alifornian. But there was no
swearing at each other now.
Snow above and snow below! The
wolves howling ffoin the hill. Snow that
buried you, that lay over your shoulder
like a blanket, that loaded you down, that
fastened upon you as it’ it had life and
sense, and. like a ghost of your injured
dead, would never go away.
With morning there came a sense of
change. But it was not light. There was
only a dim ghostly something in the air—
the ghost of a dead day. And snow, snow,
snow’ —nothing but snow and snow. The
men came down from the hill and left the
wolves to have it their own way. They
came dow n clinging to each other. Orego
nian and Californian together, as best they
could. They could not *c each other's
faces. Their very heads and shoulders
were bowed by loads of snow. Many of
the men in the canon did not attempt to
rise all day. They were covered by the
snow many feet deep. In this strange new
land these gold hunters had come upon
strange things, and had come to dread
the most dreadful things might overtake
them. They whispered among themselves
that the canon would be swept full of
snow if the wind should rise again, and
then surely all would perish! Under a
ledge of rocks that leaned over the canon
many men grouped together as the day
wore by—hungry, starving, desperate anil
dying.
But the force of the falling snow was
spent. As night came on we could see
each other’s faces; we could seethe world
once more. But what was it? A world
of snow. Strangely enough, a little white
tailed rabbit came timidly among the men
.out of the snow and hopped helplessly
over human legs. They looked at each
other in turn at this, anil then out on the
world of snow'.
The two duelists by chance looked in
each other’s faces. There was a long
pause, an awkward one. Neither spoke.
They looked at each other steadily. The
men grouped about them held their breath,
and all were silent, as if the snow w as in
deed their shroud, as one young Califor
nian with a practical turn of mind and
temporary religious tendencies had sug
gested.
While the two men stood looking steadi
ly and still at each other there was a
movement under the blanket of the Ore
gonian. He evidently was about to do
something, and that soon. With eyes
firmly fixed on the eyes of his enemy, he
threw back his blanket; threw out and
extended his hand. The Californian
grasped it and shook it, and shook again
and again, ashamed and beaten —ashamed
that lie had not had the courage to do
what his enemy had done before him. The
shout of wild delight that Went up from
the group showed that there was life in
the savage canon still. It seemed to
settle the storm. It certainly wakened
many sleepers, and they crept .out of the
snow’ all about, none tiie worse for their
long night’s rest.
The w olves did not stay to dispute for
possession of the horses on the hill as the
prospectors went up among them. And
soon the Chinook—the strange, warm
Chinook winds, that made such storms
possible as well as endurable—swept over
the country, and the hills were soon al
most as bare as they had been but a week
before.
How “Innocents Abroad” was Writ
ten.
A correspondent of the Philadelphia
Press, describing his associates in a
Washington boarding-house in 1868-69,
says:
“And there was Mark ’Twain in a little
back room, with a sheet-iron stove, a dir
ty, musty carpet of the cheapest descrip
tion, a bed, and two or three common
chairs. The little drum stove was full of
ashes, running over on the zinc sheet; the
bed seemed to be unmade for a week, the
slops had not been carried out for a fort
night, the room was foul with tobacco
smoke, the floor, dirty enough to begin
with, was littered with newspapers, from
w hich Twain had cut his letters. Then
there w-ere hundreds of pieces of torn
manuscripts which had been written and
then rejected by the author. A dozen
pipes were about the apartment—on the
w ash-stand, on the mantle, on the writ
ing table, on the chairs—everywhere that
room could be found. And there was to
bacco and tobacco everywhere. One
thing, there were no flies. The smoke
killed them, and I am now surprised the
smoke did riot kill me too. Twain would
not let a servant come into his room. He
would strip down his suspenders (his coat
and vest, of course, being off) and w r alk
back and forward in slippers in his little
room and swear and smoke the whole day
long. Os course, at times he would work,
and when he did work it was like a steam
engine at full head. Ido believe that if
Clemens had not been under contract
to write for the Hartford firm his ‘ln
nocents Abroad,’ he never would have
done it.
“Os course, at that time, we never
thought that Twain’s book would amount
to anything, and probably he did not
either, but he was writing for the money
his naked MS. w ould bring from his Hart
ford publishers. He needed that money,
and so he wrote. He is glad that he did
write now’, for that ‘lnnocents’ Abroad,’
written in that little back room in Indi
ana avenue, in Washington, has been the
making of the fame and fortune of Mark
Twain. Whether he smokes the same
stinkin" old pipes; whether he wears the
same soiled undershirts; whether he heats
his room’with the old uncleaned stoves;
whether he swears at his own or other
people’s servants; whether he mopesand
snarls and whines—well, I don’t care. He
is rich and aristorcatic. He has edited a
paper in Buffalo and another in Hart
ford. He failed in both. Editing is not
his forte. Mining is not his forte. Hu
mor is his forte, but will you excuse me
if I say that coarse humor should be no
body’s forte?”
Gems of Thought.
None are so desolate but something dear,
dearer than self, possesses or possessed.—
Byron,
True valor lies in the middle, between
theextremes of cow ardice and rashness. —
Don Quixote.
To respect or look up to God in the life,
is nothing else but to shun evils as sins.
—Swedenberg.
A man’s first care should be to avoid
the reproaches of his own heart; his next,
to escape the censures of the world.—Ad
dison.
Nothing, indeed, but the possession of
some power can with any certainty dis
cover w hat at the bottom is the true char
acter of any man.— Burke,
Discover the op inion of your enemies,
which is commonly the truest: for they
will give you no quarter, and allow noth
ing to complaisance.— Dryden.
A man has no more right to say an
uncivil thing than to act one, no more
right to say a rude thing to another
than to knock him down.— Dr S. John
son,
Employment, which Galena calls “na
ture’s physician,” is so essential to hu
man happiness that indolence is justly
considered the mother of misery.— liobert
Burton.
A man’s name is not like a mantle
that merely hangs about him. and whicji
one perchance may safely twitch and
pull, but a perfectly-fitting garment,
which, like the skin, has grow n over and
over him, at which one cannot rake and
scrape without injuring the man himself.
—Goethe.
Writing, after all. is a cold and coarse
interpreter of thought. How much of the
imagination, how much of the intellect,
evaporates and is lost while we seek to
embody it in words? Man made language
and God the genius.— Buhcer-Lytton.
I like to do kindness spontaneously; but
to have it represented that I ought to do
it. takes away all the pleasure of it: makes
it something that one is blamed for if one
does not perform, but not to be praised for
if one does.—Jean Ingelow.
A perfectly formed specimen of the
tramp called into a top-floor office on Gris
wold street, and on being asked his busi
ness he replied:
“Could you spare half a dollar to a man
who w ants to reach Buffalo?”
“No, sir.”
"Could you spare a quarter?”
"Not unless he earned it.”
“Could he earn it ?’’
"Yes, sir. There’s a ton of coal at the
curbstone which 1 want brought up here.”
“A whole ton?”
"That’s w hat I paid for.”
“And four stories high?”
"Yes. this is the fourth story.”
The man sighed heavily anil was going
away when the gentleman called out:
"Well, what do you say?”
"I can’t promise, sir. I’ll walk around
the block and consult my feelings as to
how bad I want to reach Buffalo. The
more 1 look at that coal the more I think
Detroit is the nicest place in the world to
winter in.”— Detroit Tree Dress,
SAVANNAH. GA., SUNDAY' MORNING, JANUARY’ 28, 1883.
IDEAL JOI'KNALISM.
A Candid Musical Critic on Deck at Last
—The Frozen Truth.
A candid critic on a country Journal,
having been detailed to write up a musical
performance, forgot and wrote up the per
formance just as it occurred:
Grand Concert. —The regular annual
exhibition of good clothes and bad music,
that has grow n to be a feature of the mu
sical world in Shawneetown, came ofl’ last
evening at the opera house.
Every seat in the hall was full,for our pa
tient community has become accustomed
to this affliction, and submits to it without
a murmur four or five times a year very
much as they take quinine in spring.
Those people who came stamping in late
as usual, after the Shaw nee style, are to
be congratulated this time, as they escaped
the Arion Quartette sing “Here in Cool
Grot.” It is due to the Arion Quartette,
however,to say this was not the worst sing
ing of the evening. The audience thought
it certainly would be the worst; and indeed
it was until late in the evening the same
quartette butchered “Come Where My
Love Lies Dreaming.” It was dreadful
beyond description, and the deafening ap
plause w hich followed it only testified the
great joy of the audience on being assured
that the Arion Quartette w ould sing no
more that evening.
Miss Abigal McGinnsey rendered a reci
tation and an aria, by Cappola, in the
manner that has so long become familiar
to our suffering people, and is always a
source of profound embarrassment to the
accompanist, who floundered along last
night in the patient but vain hope of get
ting even with the singer somewhere by
scrambling across lots and heading her
off in some unusually prolonged run. But
this was impossible, and singer and ac
companist were never within six bars
of each other during the whole of the per
formance. Mr. Poundaway, the time
honored accompanist in all these affairs,
by the way, did even worse than usual
hist evening. We are pained to notice
that his playing on the edge of the piano,
two inchesjaway from the keys,grows upon
him, and he should either change his
drink or his vocation.
Mrs. Bangalong played “Monastery
Bells” as usual. It was disguised under
a French name on the programme, but
every one knows w hat is coming after
Mrs.’ Bangalong finally gets the piano
moved into precisely the right place—
which is always just w here it stood be
fore she had it moved the first time, and
after seating herself for the fiftieth time,
finally concludes to remain seated. Mrs.
Bangalong’s unvarying habit of wearing
her gloves to the piano and then occupying
seven minutes in removing them, is not
an affectation. It is an act. of mercy,
and gives the people nearest the door an
opportunity to slip out before she begins
to play. The reporters of the city press
used to go out at this time; but since
Bangalong has taken to standing at the
door to watch refugees, they have with
excellent taste and better judgement
abandoned the; custom and silently sw al
lowed their lull cup of misery.
As Mrs. Bangalong left the stage, John
Garbey, who was asleep in the gallery,
fell off his chair, and mistaking the
noise for an encore, Mrs. Bangalong re
turned and poundered out the “Maiden’s
Prayer.” Somebody ought to kill that man
Garbey.
“Prof.” Slowpost played a violin solo—
De Beriot’s “Seventh Air.” Everybody
was grateful that he didn’t try the
eighth . The professor dresses like a waiter
and handles a fiddle like a graduate from
a side show. He is in great demand at all
dances down at Wyseker’s Branch and
the Sassafras Bottoms, and it is believed,
in fact, that all his musical education was
acquired at Coseraau’s store, at the old
ford on Clamen’s Creek. He is trying to
set up a class in this city, and if this man
attempts to play the fiddle as he does he
ought to be lynched.
Miss Uppercea played the same old
“Improvisation” she 'began playing in
these concerts eighteen years ago. It lasts
about as well as her diamonds,and charges
as little.
Tim Thurlow came out and sang his
unchanging “Ah, So Fair.” The agony of
the audience during this time trial was
fairly unsupportable. His high notes are
greatly admired, because his voice always
breaks into a thin falsetto squeak on them,
and he can not make so much noise as he
can in his chest tones. If Jim had been
born dumb, or his audience deaf, the world
would be much happier,
The only excuse for putting Miss Malt
by on the programme every time there is
a concert in Shaw nee town is that her
father is worth SB,OOO and owns the largest
brewery in Lowell county. With a voice,
musical education and general ability up
to the grade of “Baby Mine,” she sung her
old stand-by last night, the “Spinning-
Wheel Song,” from Faust. If Marguerite
could have sung it as Miss Maltby sung it,
it would have saved the poor child a world
of trouble. It would have scared Faust,
Mephlstopheles and the whole gang of
them out of the country. There is more
music in Mr. Maltby’s bung-starters than
there is in his daughter.
Mr. Bellow s sang, “Oh, Ye Tears,” Mr.
Bellows has a rich baritone voice—a
wheelbarrow' tone, that is. Unfortunate
ly for his effort last evening, nobody knew
he was singing until he had finished the
butchery of art and bowed himself
otf the' stage. Everybody thought he
was just trying his voice. It ever his
voice is tried it will be convicted on its
ow’n evidence.
James H. Blowson find Elbert Haffut
sang “Larboard Watch.” It is a great
pity these young men are not aware their
mouths were made to catch mosquitoes
rather than singing. Haft'ut’s voice is so
like a fog horn that he may be pardoned
for a tendency to sing marine songs, but
aside from a plea of natural depravity and
fiendish misanthropy there is no excuse
w hatever for Blowson’s singing in public.
These misguided young men were down
on the programme for a second atrocity,
but it was omitted at the urgent request
of the audience.
The piano used at this massacre was
the same jingling old harpsicord from the
music store of Jingle, Jangle & Co., that
has appeared for a free puff at all local
outrages for the past twenty years. Last
winter this enterprising house traded otf
the old dulcimer for a silver watch; but
the man who got the alleged piano
brought it back, paid $7 forfeit, and got
his w’atch, and we suppose all future con
certs in Shawneetown will be haunted by
this venerable nightmare until the police
interfere.
Our readers will be delighted to learn
that this is the last concert of the sea
son, and a man can go to the opera house
in safety for the next three or four
months.
The receipts of the pandemonium were
over $l3O, and old Hardwick, proprietor
of the hall, with his accustomed rapacity,
gobbled nearly one-fourth of that sum for
the use of an bld barn that looks shabby
in comparison with a second-rate market
house.
Six of the thickest-headed voung men
in Shawneetown, in borrow ed dress coats,
acted as ushers, and iwcted most wretched
ly at that.
’ Taken altogether, it w*as the dreariest
occasion that has bored a long-suffering
communitv since the concert that preceded
it.
Protecting His Character.—A man
entering the shop of his tailor the other
day said:
“Sir, I owe you $60.”
“Yes, sir, you do.”
“And I have owed it for a year.”
“You have.”
“And this is the fifth postal card you
have sent me regarding the debt.”
“I think it is the fifth.”
“Now. sir. w hile I cannot pay the debt
for another year, I propose to protect
my character'as far as possible. Here
are twelve two-cent stamps. You can
use them in sending me twelve monthly
statements of account, and can thus save
your postal cards and my feelings at the
same time.”
*Why is Mrs. Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vege
table Compound like the Mississippi river
in a spring freshet? Because the immense
volume of this healiug river moves w ith
such momentum that it sweeps away all
obstacles aud is literally flooding the
country.
Sheffield, England, is about to en
deavor to secure from Parliament, through
the corporation, full power to light the
streets, public buildinas and rivate resi
dences with electricity.
Standards of Heauty.
Chicago Inter-Ocean.
Some months ago there appeared in one
of our illustrated magazines an article
giving pictured representations of the
beautiful women of Baltimore who had
been in their time belles in their native
city and at the national capital. There
were in the list the names not only of
famous beauties, but of women who,
through some indefinable charm, had
exercised potent influence at Washington,
both as young ladies and as matrons. But,
curiously enough, not a single face among
the many outlined with all the skill oi the
engraver’s art came up to the recognized
standards of beauty of the present day.
During the last two or three years the
illustrated papers have published a series
of portraits under the title “Types of
American Beauty.” These were from
photographs, and probably gave a fair
idea of the features and the spirit of the
faces presented, and yet not one in a dozen
of the portraits met w ith popular approval.
The standard was that of the man who
had selected the subjects, and not that of
the people at large.
There are men and women who will
look at the most exquisitely finished steel
engraving of Madame Recamier and fail
to comprehend why she w as called beauti
ful. There were men and women who
saw Adelaide Neilson come on the stage
as Juliet who could not find it in their
hearts to say she was beautiful. And yet
these same men and women when they
had seen Neilson through the balcony
scene and the parting with Romeo were
ready to vote her the loveliest creature
they had ever beheld. To all these,
Neilson’s portrait is scarcely more satis
factory than than of Madame Recamier.
To many people Mary Anderson is one
of the most beautiful women on the stage.
Others can find in her scarcely anything
to call out enthusiasm or admiration.
There was a time when Fanny Davenport
fixed the standard of beauty for a large
class of theatre-goers, but she was never
so popular with that other class who
learned to love a certain fineness of fea
ture and expression of Sarah Jewett.
Alice Dunning Lingard was classed al
most by common consent as a beautiful
woman, yet she did not excite that order
of enthusiasm called out by Neilson. Mrs.
Scott-Siddons stood for many years as the
ideal of a somewhat uncommon type of
beauty, and not a few found in Modjeska
a something which, puzzling them, they
called beauty.
There w ere other women like Ada Cav
endish, Emily Rigl, Kate Forsyth, Agnes
Herndon, Annie Pixley and Margaret
Mather, who stood for types of prettiness
or beauty among those who exhibited
alertness and a something akin to par
tisanship in their search for standards.
But to the admirers of all these Rhea
came as the exemplar of a different school,
and Mrs. Langtry follows as the fixed
standard of a circle w ith whom Ameri
cans are inclined to differ as a matter of
principle.
So far as face and figure are concerned,
it may be assumed that the standard of
beauty of this day will be found w ithin
the range covered' by the names mention
ed above. The w omen are or have been
fairly well-known to the public. Their
photographs, taken all possible arti
ficial aids, and idealized in all w’ays
know n to artists, are in all the show win
dows and in hundreds of albums. They
are remembered as they appeared at dra
matic climaxes, or as surrounded by the
romantic adjuncts of unusual circum
stance: and scene. They are the floating
ideals that have taken hold of the imagina
tion or that have stirred the emotions, but
they cannot answer in its fullness the
demand for a standard that shall com
prehend the grace and graciousness of
lovable womanliness that made Madame
Recamier and Mrs, Madison veritable
queens in society. They hardly enter the
lists with the Baltimore belles, whose
pictures now fail to excite enthusiasm,
and they lack that essential of gracious
ness and symmetrical character that made
Mrs. Hayes so much a favorite at Wash
ington.
It must be admitted that artists and
others have done their part to give a
theatric cast to the dreaming of young
people about the beautiful. What young
man dreams now of the nose and mouth of
the Venus de Medici or the Venus of Milo?
If he lives in Chicago, he is dreaming of
the fresh, bright faces he sees on State
street or in some home where he is not a too
frequent visitor. And so for the matter
of standards, the young man will stand
ready to wager that on any evening he
can saunter into the theatre with a
young lady whose beauty will discount
that of Mrs, Langtry or Rhea or Mary
Anderson.
Should the middle-aged men be called on
to fix the standard they would point out in
Chicago scores of women in whose faces
there is, in addition to the mere physical
beauty, a refined, intangible something
that goes far beyond it—women whose
faces are not seen in photographers’
show-cases, and rarely on canvas in
artist’s studios, but w'hose presence is
felt at social gatherings, in the home
circle, and incidentally in the wider field
of political activity. Seldom is it said of
such a woman, “She looks like Mary
Anderson or Mrs. Langtry,” but not un
frequently is it said of Mrs, Langtry or
Mary Anderson, when for a moment she
is at her best, in some scene free from
artificiality, “She looked then like Mrs.
So-and-so.”
Men have been encouraged in this late
day to look at pretty women on the stage
with such small courtesy as they w ould
give to the examination 'of a line horse.
With every opera glass there is an im
aginary measuring rule and tape, and
men sit down coolly to study and measure
a woman’s nose, mouth, arms and feet,
and look her over with an air of a con
noisseur purchasing a statue. This has
led to a species of hypercriticism % closely
allied to that spirit which exults more
over one defect found after a long search
than half a dozen good points pleasantly
prominent or fairly conspicious. And it
is this schooling that gives the average
nose of the day its contenptuous turn
when the portraits of the beautiful women
of the past come under consideration.
American and English Youth.—
Though in England, for a few years back,
youth had now’ more liberty and freedom
from trammels than formerly, it is still
the opinions of the old about life that are
accepted as final, and the wishes of the
young are constantly sacrificed to the in
terests and still more to the prejudice of
the old. The visdom of the parents is
generally supposed to be binding upon the
children, without reference to the differ
ence of modern thought and civilization,
or to the disposition and temperament of
children. How often is’it not said,/‘What
was good eno’ for the father is surely good
enough for the child.” and few average
parents think of the misery it is to find out
too late that one is the round man in the
square hole! In America, we may con
sider that the young people are not so well
“brought up,” but they are allowed to
grow up under the best of all teachers,
experience, and so they find more easily
their own level, and develop in an atmos
phere congenial to themselves. At pres
ent, however, American social life w ould
seem to be in a transition state; the arro
gant way in which the young take the
initiative will probably tone down, and
youth and age will each, so to speak,
shake into its right place, for w hile in the
old civilization it seems often to be forgot
ten that to the young belongs the future
of the world, of which they cannot be
finally kept out by any present restraint,
in America it is not sufficiently remember
ed that to the old is owing some gratitude
for the past and for all w e have inherited
from it.— London Spectator.
A correspondent asks what the real
Scotch haggis is. It is a kind of pudding,
made of oatmeal, onions, etc., baked and
served in the stomach of an ox or sheep,
the word haggis signifying stomach. The
Scotch scone—for which she also inquires
—is a cake, generally unleavened; it may
be made of either wheat flour, barley, or
oatmeal. In form it is round as a wheel,
flat as a pancake, and—l have the word of
a Scotch divine—it is sometimes as tough
as sole-leather.
***Kidney-Wort moves the bowels regu
larly, cleanses the blood, and radically
cures kidney disease, gravel, piles, bilious
headache and pains which are caused by
disordered liver and kidneys. Thousands
have been cured—why should von rot
try it ?
AN EVENT IN ZUNI SOCIETY.
How Y’ouiig Push-Mah-Tob Won His
Blooming Bride.
JFe«c York Times.
The circumstances attending the recent
brilliant wedding in the Zuni village of
Akima, New Mexico, serve to illustrate
the power of true love to overcome even
the most mountainous obstacle which a
hard-hearted parent may throw in the way,
and no really earnest and devoted lover
need hereafter despair if he but follow the
noble example thus set before him. In
deed, the life of I’ush-Mah-Toh, one of the
illustrious parties to the affair in question,
is so full of worthy teaching that a brief
review of his career seems almost imper
ative.
Born of aristocratic but moral parents,
he was reared in careful seclusion, and the
best tutors were employed to train his
mind to a love for righteous principle and
a stern, unyielding resolution to do right,
whatever the consequence. In at
the tender age of twenty-two, he met and
loved Tee-Hee, the belle of the village and
only daughter of Hole-In-The-Groimd, a
rich and haughty chief, whose vast posses
sions and skill in draw poker had long
made him a power in the tribe. The stern
father gave his consent and fixed the hap
py day, the bride's trousseau, consisting
of three strings of beads and a cake of
green paint, was ordered from Santa Fe,
and a wedding feast of six kegs of whisky
provided, and the fond parents of the proud
groom, not to be outdone in magnificence,
promised him a pair of blue moccasins,
tw o bottles of gin. a new’ pistol, and a silk
hat trimmed with red flannel as his cos
tume for the impressive ceremony. The
friends and relatives of both families
throughout the Territory were invited,
and the exclusive coteries of Zuni society
were in a flutter over the approaching
event.
Suddenly fell a heavy and unexpected
blow’, leaving I’ush-Mah-Toh an orphan.
His father suddenly expired at a select
scalping party given in his honor because
of a recent deal in mules, and his sensi
tive w idow’, unable to bear the pangs of
bereavement, eloped the same day with
the survivor. Thus thrown upon his
resources, young I’ush-Mah-Toh found
himself facing the cold and uncharitable
world w ith no other fortune than his ow n.
bounding ambition and two goats, an un
faltering trust in Providence and a pair of
damaged leggings w hich the native Coro
ner had accidentally overlooked w hile view
ing the corpse. The balance of the estate
was proved by Hole-1 n-The-Ground, on his
own testimony, backed up by that of
several competent shotguns, to have been
mortgaged by desceased on the previous
night during a w ild and destructive orgie
of jack-pots. He was then informed that
the nuptials were indefinitely postponed,
and was forbidden his betrothed’s wig
wam, and the fearful Tee-Hee was com
pelled to send back the hairless dog he
had given her on the day their young affec
tions were plighted.
Thus bereaved, outraged, and impover
ished, Push-Mah-Toh resolved to seek his
fortunes elsewhere, girded up his loins
and his goats, breakfasted lightly but
with feeling off the hairless dog, and cast
ing a scornful glance upon the scene of his
former joys, follow ed his nimble property
up the winding path of the mountain,
where the gathering shades of the forest
soon concealed him from view’. Years
passed and his name had perished from
the annals of his race; ration day came
and went, and came and w ent again and
knew him not; the sorrowing Tee-Hee,
faded and waned to a hysterical shadow’,
and her stern, rich, and haughty father
still skinned the boys, and was sterner
and richer and haughtier than ever.
Three w eeks ago the usually quiet vil
lage of Akima underwent a tremendous
upheavel of exeitement over the announce
ment that the wanderer had returned. It
was true. By steady devotion to the
cattle trade on Zuni principles he had
accumulated nine mules, three scalps, one
hundred and thirty goats, two hairless
dogs, a shotgun, four red blankets, and a
barrel of w hisky, and had come to claim
his patient and long-expected bride. Tee-
Hee fainted with joy on seeing him, and
was only revived by the application of a
quart and a half out of the barrel, and
then, hearing her stern father again deny
her lover’s touching suit, subsided agaiii
into a maudlin swoon, and was conveyed
into the wigwam by her several step
mothers, who smelt the bride’s breath and
wondered why so much good liquor had
been wasted when a gentle clubbing w ould
have served the same purpose.
Push-Mah-Toh heard the verdict of the
stern father with a stoicism which was
marvelous in one so ardent arid young.
Instead of flying into a passion when told
that a fortune of no less than seven hun
dred goats, thirty-four mules, a dozen red
blankets, and whisky enough to set up the
entire tribe w ould be required to render
him eligible as a suitor, he cordially
grasped Hole-In-The-Ground’s baud anil
told him that if that were the case of
course his skimpy belongings were of no
use, and that he would just sit dow n and
play a hand or two at poker to pass away
the time until morning.
Now’, this was just what Hole-In-The-
Ground had been aching for, and he hailed
the proposition w ith secret and malignant
delight. He had so long been a champion
at the noble pastime that the boys had
become somewhat frugal in their bettimr,
and only came in when loaded for bear, so
this prospect of fresh meat filled him with
joy. He produced hisown reliably marked
deck, summoned SonOf-A-Gun, Blooming
Thunder, Didn’-Know-It-Was-Loa<led, and
Man-With-The-Busted-Flush, all eminent
chiefs, as witnesses, took a dozen swal
lows out of the bung of the convivial keg,
and sat dow n.
For one hour the game was without in
cident, except once when Hole-In-The-
Ground made a tremendous bluff of tw o
hundred goats, six plugs of tobacco, and
his mother-in-law on a jack-pot, stood pat
and bet his grandmother and sixty mules
against Push-Mah-Toh’s three-card draw’,
lie was called by the intrepid young lover,
and was compelled to surrender the pot to
two queens, having himself only an Irish
flush, consisting of three clubs and a pair
of spades.
After this the game become wild, and
reckless betting was indulged in by both
parties, to the end that Push-Mah-Toh
finally acquired title to nearly all of his
adversary’s red blankets, plug tobacco,
and poor relations. At last a huge and
climbing jack-pot was inaugurated,
sweetened by seven mules and a squaw
every time the hand passed. On the
ninth hand the great chiefs opportunity
had come, it being his deal. Glancing
across, after carefully skinning his cards,
Push-Mah-Toh saw Hole-In-The-Ground’s
eyes gleaming with the light of something
very big. As he himself had four aces, he
opened the pot with a bet which made
Blooming Thunder’s teeth chatter. Ilole-
I n-The-Ground saw the bet and raised
him back nine hundred goats, a keg of
powder, four pounds of red paint, and his
last mother-in-law. To the surprise of all
present, not only did Push-Mah-Toh cap
this, but raised back, and thus the two
great powers went at each other until they
had nothing left to bet but their breech
clouts and salvation, and concluded to
draw’ cards. Push-Mah-Toh wanted one,
and got the tray of diamonds. Hole-In-
The-Ground smiled in his grim way, took
a comforting pull at the bung, and said he
guessed he'd play what he had. Now came
the decisive moment. Push-Mah-Toh care
fully combed over his draw in hopes of
catching a small pair, smiled when he
saw the tray, and promptly bet a hair
lariat, which he said he had previously
overlooked. Hole-In-The-Ground set the
four chiefs to w atching the pack, and ex
cused himself for a minute while he
fetched in a lame niece whom he had for
gotten. While he was absent I’ush-Mah
Toh apparently toyed with his knife,
scraping its edge over the bottom card of
his hand. In a minute the lame niece
limped into the pot, there was nothing
more to bet. and a show-down was in
order. Push-Mah-Toh said he was so
sorry he couldn't think, to win all that
property on one hand, but that he had
four aces to go in with. At this Hold-In-
The-Ground gave a yell of exultation and
skinned out a straight flush, king high,
aud proceeded to count up the pot. Push-
Mah-Toh checked him, and said that he
w anted to know what a straight flush beat.
The four witnesses said that it l»eat four
aces. Push-Mah-Toh asked if it beat anv
thing more. Witnesses said that it did
not. Push-Mah-Toh then smiled again,
and said he w ould just have a peep at his
draw, and then skinned out five aces,
which, of course, on the testimony just
given, took the pot. It was in vain that
Hole-In-The-Ground protested and yelled,
the sympathy of the public was against
him. and the evidence of his own private
deck was conclusive that there had been
no fraud. Next day Push-Mah-Toh led the
blushing Tee-Hee to the altar, the entire
trilie was generously filled with whisky
and enthusiasm, aiid the young hero,
magnanimously forgiving tiie past, not
only gave back to the former great chief
his’ deck containing the scraped tray, but
employed him on a living salary to way
lay unsuspecting travelers, size up their
property, and steer them against the
game.
Gertrude Gilhooley aud Sebastian
McCarthy.
Chicago Tribune.
"And do you discard me forever, Ger
trude Gilhooley?”
"I do,” was the answer, in a low, sweet
voice, w hile a pair of soft, brown eyes,
sufl’used with tears, looked tenderly up at
Sebastian McCarthy. "You know that
my heart is yours, and that 1 would gladly
give thee my hand, but papa says nav.
and when lie twitters the procession is
apt to move.”
And, saying this, the girl buried herface
in her hands and sobbed convulsively.
“But think again, Gertuile,” said the
young man.in eager, anxious tones. “See
if thy woman wit may not discover aught
that Will avail to make our future path
way bright. I have loved you too long,
too earnestly, to resign the prize so eager
ly sought w ithout a struggle.”
“Let me think,” said the Lady Ger
trude, brushing back from her fair fore
head the bangs w hich so gracefully o’er
hung its pearly surface, and placing care
fully on a toe of the statue of Mercury
which stood in the conservatory a gener
ous hunk of chewing-gum for which she
had no immediate use; standing silently
by a marble Psyche for a moment, she
turned suddenly to Sebastian.
“You know the Mulcaheys?” she said.
“They whose moated castle frets the
sky on the avenue?”
“I do.”
“Get thee there with all speed, and
when you have crossed the drawbridge
and tethered your palfrey in the terraced
court, knock boldly on the front door, but
relax not your vigilance, as you love me,
for the Mulcaheyes come of Norman
blood and keep a dog. When the portal
shall be opened, and you are admitted to
the presence of my aunt, the Lady Con
stance Mulcahey, say to her that her fa
vorite niece, Gertrude, seeks her aid—that
a cruel father would wed her to one she
loves not. Tell her that about four o’clock
to-morrow afternoon, when the sun is
gilding the shot tower, a cassocked jus
tice of the peace will appear at Castle
Mulcahey, and that I shall soon follow
w ith my bonny bridegroom. Do you un
derstand ?”
“I am on,” replied Sebastian, “and, by
my halidom, the plan is a good one.”
And kissing Gertrude trustfully under
the left ear, lie went down the front steps
and was soon lost to view’.
“And so my pretty niece would fain
marry you ?”
It was the Lady Constance Mulcahey
who spoke these words, and the one to
w hom she addressed them was Sabastian
McCarthy.
“The plan is a good one,” she continued,
tapping gently with a broom-handle the
dainty foot that peeped from beneath her
robe. “The Earl is working in the sub
urbs this week, and I shall not hear the
clank of his dinner-pail until nearly seven
p. m., so that all will be over ere becomes.
You may tell Gerty that I will be fixed for
her.”
A cold, clear afternoon in the festal
Christmas-tide. Up the avenue came,
with merry tinkle of bell and proud
prancing ot blooded steeds, drawingroom
horse-car No. 176. In one corner of the
vehicle sat Gertrude and Sebastian,nestled
close to each other, like little birds in the
merry, agueish spring time. Presently
the car stopped. Sabastian was on hi’s
feet at once, his face expressing plainly
the indignation that swept over his soul.
“I prithee, do not leave me,” said Ger
trude, grasping his ulster with a convul
sive clutch.
“Fear not, sweetest. I go to see w hat
dastard has dared to stop my faithful
steeds.”
He soon came back, and saying, with a
merry sigh:
“It is a freight train on Jthe crossing,”
again closed Gertrude to his vest.
The car moved on anon, and soon the
happy couple were safe in the Castle Mul
cahey.
*******
The words that bound Gertrude and Se
bastian together with the silken tether of
matrimony had been said, and the happy
groom had planted on the lips of his
bride a large three-story-and-basement
nuptial kiss, when suddenly the door
was openened, and Pythagoras Gilhooley,
Duke of. Galway, stood before the happy
couple.
“Forgive me, father!” said Gertrude,
placing her soft, white arms about his
neck, and looking wistfully into his eyes.
Removing from his mouth a two-inch
pipe, setting his dinner-pail on the eta
gere, the Duke of Galway said, in calm,
clear tones:
“Yez are all forgiven. Divil a much I
care if ye w ere jined a year ago,” and
with these words he silently took a chew
of hard tobacco and was gone.
The Material Expression of the Soul.
.S’. T., in New York Sun.
To one who, day by day, studiously con
templates the soul, holds up to light
every action, analyzes each emotion, past
and future draw near, and not in the
great present. To the soul there is no
night, nor need of day; it is a foretaste of
eternity.
If we are greatly happy, or in pain,
how long is the time to years of serene
existence. To have been happy is a joy
forever; and seems at once a reason why
one should always be so, and a prophecy
of future bliss. When we look without at
changes, we have lived a long time. Look
w ithin, it seems as if we had not yet
draw n a good breath of life.
The abstract does not move the actual.
Space and time make no impression of
themselves, but the measurement of one,
the effect of the other. What were a
thousand years to continuous joy or ever
biding pain ? Those know time whose age
is told in happy yesterdays and sorrowful
to-days.
The effect of all materiality, color,
form, is that of a beautiful dead face; smil
ing, reposeful, in awful loveliness, how
sad.
There is no warmth to the heart but by
a heart. There is more light in a beggar’s
smile than the l»eauty of the sun. That
enlightens the body, but this illumines the
soul.
When 1 look out upon nature end re
flect, how long has rock touched rock and
never yet fallen into any other form: light
how many mornings fresh strung for fad
ing symphonies in leaf and flowers; and
when' 1 look back at the electric touch of
Soul, the rosy art of Rome, the white
lieautv of Greece, that bloomed in shade,
the Aphrodite of time, long sung beneath
her natal wave, whose arms of masonry
are lifted yet; when I reflect how the dead
rises in all likeness but its own, I think of
one who fashions souls and suns.
A Doctor’s Substitute.—He was a
young man with a wild, disordered look,
lie rushed into the office of a prominent
city physician recently, placed a small cup
on the desk, took off his coat and bared his
right arm and whispered:
“Stick meb”
“Do you want to be bled?”
“I do ! Open a vein and let me catch the
blood in this cup!”
“Too full in the head?”
“Alas! too full in Qie heart! My af
fianced will not believe me when I tell Imr
that I love her better than my life. I will
w rite my love. I will write it in my own
blood! Proceed!”
"Is that all you want?”
“All! Is not that sufficient?”
“Young man, you are a dodo! Put on
your coat! I keep a red ink here for the
very purpose you desire, and I will sell
you a whole gill for a quarter.”
And the young man was not stuck.—
Detroit ib'ree Press.
D. Elliott, 128 Broughton street, Savan
nah, Ga., says: “1 found great relief in
Brown's Iron Bitters, when suffering
from rheumatism.”
SINGLE COPIES 5 CENTS.
SEW “SM'KELS.”
Five-Cent Pieces That are to Supplant
the Ohl Ones.-
Philadelphia Neir».
Some time ago Superintendent Snowden
of the mint became convinced that the
people were tired of the old tive-cent
nickle coin, and recommended to the
Secretary of the Treasury that the coin lie
changed both in device ami size. The
Secretary of the Treasury approved of the
change, and Colonel Snowden prepared
and submitted to the Secretary of the
Treasury a coin of increased diameter and
new devices and inscriptions. Thedesign
proved satisfactory and the coin was
ordered to lie issued.
The old tive-cent piece was issued under
the act of Congress approved May 16, 1566,
which made the weight five grammes ami
the diameter two centimeters. The act of
Congress was the tirst attempt ever made
in the history of United States coinage to
prescribe by law the diameter of a coin.
As it was thought previous to the passage
of the act that the judgment of the mint
officials could be Iw'iter trusted than that
of Congressmen who have but little expert
knowledge or skill on such subjects, the
result was the issue of a coin without due
proportion of thickness to diameter, with
out sonority or ring and devoid of beauty.
The advocates of this unusual legislation
had for their object the issue of a coin
which would be useful in educating the
public to a know ledge and acceptance of
the metric system in daily transactions.
This attempt to educate by legislation has
proved a dismal failure. As the law had
to allow of a divergence of two grains
above and below the prescribed standard
it was inaccurate and unreliable as a
weight. As the diameter ot the coin could
not be made uniform, owing to a want of
uniform ductility of the nickel-copper
alloy, it was obviously no standard as a
measure. The devices on the old coin
are (inartistic. On one side is a shield,
which is so large that it crowds the motto,
“In God we Trust," into the very narrow
border.
In the new coin all the evils are reme
died, and besides have tasteful designs on
each side, and is of a convenient width and
diameter. The coin is to be twenty-one
millimeters in diameter and of a reduced
thickness. The weight, however, will be
the same. The new coin w ill be made as
artistic as possible under the rigid restric
tions of the law, which does not give the
mint officials latitude enough to place such
designs upon the coin which good taste
would dictate, but prescribes a certain
number of devices and inscriptions on the
obverse and reverse sides. 'The mint
officials say that if the law would leave
the arrangement of the legal devices ami
inscriptions to them the coins would be
much improved in appearance. On the
obverse of the new coin is a classical head
of Liberty, with the inscription of
“Liberty” on the tiara, th* 1 date below
and surrounded by thirteen stars. On the
reverse side is a Roman numeral indicat
ing the denomination of the coin in the
centre of a wreath composed of cotton,
wheat and corn, the products of the
country, and all surroundered by the in
scription “E Pluribus Unium” and
“United States of America.” The coin
will be issued on the Ist of February and
the master die or hub is now in course of
preparation.
Colonel Snowden has been laboring since
1868 to induce Congress to pass an act
unifying the minor coins by making them
of the same alloy, with uniform devices
and proportionate weights and sizes. As
the Colonel has not yet accomplished his
desired end, he is now disposed to take the
coins up separately and accomplish it as
much as possible within the scope oi legis
lation. The new tive-cent piece is thetirst
coin Colonel Snowden has succeeded in
having changed, and as it is presumed
that it will meet with popular approval.it
will not be long liefore a radical change
in our coinage is made.
l‘a lermo.
Chamber'# Journal.
Anything more beautiful it is impossible
to imagine than the entrance to the lovely
Bay of Palermo, guarded on the one side
by the massive Monte Pellegrino, and on
the other by Monte Navarino; while the
city, bathed in perpetual sunshine, and
laved by the calm waters of the Mediter
ranean, lies at the mouth of the rich and
fertile plain, the Conca d'Oro (Shell of
Gold); so named, we conclude, from the
golden fruit which bulks so largely in the
exports of Palermo, whose plain is simply
a thicket of many square miles of orange
and lemon gardens, stretching up to an
encircling amphitheatre of hills, some of
which tower to the height of 5,000 feet—
all together completing a picture from
which any artist might well have drawn
as a subject for “The Plains of Heaven.”
For invalids Palermo is rapidly becoming
a favorite winter resort, the temperature
between night and day being subject to
less variation there than in almost any
other known place.
The city itself is beautifully clean. The
hotels are comfortable and well managed,
i( a little expensive—from twelve to
twenty francs per day, according to rooms
chosen, or rather, we should say, accord
ing to arrangements made before allowing
your luggage to be removed from the cab.
A note here may not be amiss to travelers
—namely, that we always found ourselves
in a more independent and better position
for making a bargain when in a carriage
or cab, instead of the hotel omnibus, which
meets you at the station, where, once
entered, you arr apt to be considered
bagged game. The best hotels scout tho
word pension; but all are amenable to un
arrangement, especially in the case of a
family, as we were, or to a stay of some
days or weeks. Every one who knows
what traveling in Italy means, still more
in Sicily, knows how necessary this is, if
you wish to avoid the unpleasant com
panionship of a fretted spirit, a heavy
heart and a light purse.
The many changes of race and nation
that have dominated in Sicily, have
stampedits people with strange and strik
ing variety. Handsome Moorish faces—
living Murillos meeting you at every
corner, specially handsome in the case of
young boys and children—abounding side
by side wit If the softer Norman type of
blue eyes and blonde hair; while now' and
then the straight nose and eyebrow of the
Greek tell of tho stronghold each race has
maintained. We should, however, be dis
posed to think the Eastern element the
most indelible.
We were struck by the number of well
dressed youngmen loungingabout in street
and calle with a lamentably idle, listless
air; but an ingenuous youth threw light
upon the subject by reminding us that
Palermo is the scat of a university!
The Oriental love of show is strongly
marked by the numbers of elegant equip
ages that grace the fashionable drive be
tween the town and La Favorita, a royal
Bourbon palace at the base of Monte
Pellegrino, and built in the rather un
classical form of a Chinese pagoda. Un
like the solid ideas of the proverbial Scot,
who no sooner gets his head above water
than he makes for land, the first ambition
of a Palermian, on feeling himself begin
to float, is to sport a carriage; his second,
to own a box at the theatre; his third, to
have a dinner other than herbs—that is,
salad and maccaroni; and his fourth, to
own a private and particular burving
ground.
Prof. Atwater, of the Connecticut Agri
cultural College, says that the various
analyses and investigations of chemists
show that, taking medium beef— neither
fat nor lean—as having a nutritive value
of 100 points for a standard, ovsters have
a nutritive value of 21.8; lobsters of 50.3;
hens’ eggs of 72.2; mutton of 86.6; ordinary
beef at 01.3; Spanish tnackeral 105.9;
boned cod 106; canned salmon 107; fresh
salmon 107.7, the highest place given to
fresh fish; salt mackerel 111.1: fat j<ork
116: butter 121.1; smoked beef 146; smoked
ham 157; and cheese from skimmed milk
159. Perhaps this shows why American
skim-milk cheese is used in such great
quantities in Europe. It certainly indi
cates that the mixing of lard w ith cheese
will not benefit the consumer by increas
ing the nutritive value of that article of
food.
Don’t Die in the House.
“ Rough on Rats.” Clears out rats,
mice, roaches, bed bugs, flies, ants, moles,
chipmunks, gophers. 15c.
Several of the French collieries have
successfully introduced electro-motors,
and they appear to be regarded with favor
by the miners.