Newspaper Page Text
J, W. ANDERSON, Editor and Proprietor
HAST* WEATHER.
On * day like this, when the streets are wet,
When the skies are gray and the rain is
falling,
can you hinder an old regret
For a joy !on S dead, and a hope long set,
From rising out of its grave and calling—
Calling to you, with a voice so shrill,
Thai it scares the reason and stuns the will?
Qpa day like this, when the sun is hid,
And you and your heart are housed to
gether,
5( memories come to you all unbid,
And something suddenly wets your lid,
Like a gust of the outdoor weather,
Why, who is in fault, but the dim old day,
'Joo dark for labor, too dull for play?
On a day like this, that is blurred and gray,
When the rain drips down in a ceaseless
fashion,
If a dream, that you banished and put away
Comes back to stare in your face and say
Mute eloquent words of passion;
If the whole vast universe seems amiss,
Why, who can help it, a day like this?
—Ella Wheeler Wilcox..
THE PURSER'S STORY.
IiV LUKE sharp.
I don’t know that I should tell this
itory.
When the purser told it to me I know
it was his intention to write it out for a
Mgazine. lit fact he had written it,
ind I understand that a noted American
Mgazine had offered to publish it, bu
have watched that magazine for over
hree years and 1 have not yet seen the
mrser s story in it. 1 am sorry that I
iid not write the story at the time, then
perhaps I should have caught the ex
piisite peculiarities of the purser's way
if telling it. I find myself gradually for
retting the story and I write it now for
ear I shall forget it, and then be har
assed all through after life by the re
lembrance of the forgetting.
Perhaps after you read this story you
fill say there is nothing in it after all.
Veil, that will be my fault, then, and I
:ao . ..i v regret that I did not write down
he don Bteu was told to me, for as
[satin the purser’s roo.„ th ., f dav
u “ l u “- v
cemed , , to that .. . 1 . had . , heard
me never v
jthijg more graphic.
, "'•c purser's room was well forward on
heAtanUc: Hcamship. From one of the
little red curtained windows you could
look down to where the steerage passen
hih were gathered on the deck When
how Ol i the great great tcmcI Tc33c, .love uove uo» down n
.
nto the big Atlantic waves, the smother
>1 foam that shot upward would be borne
long with the wind and spatter like rain
gainst (he purser’s window. Something
bout this intermittent patter on the
iane reminded the purser of the story
nd so he told it to me:
[There were a great many steerage pas
sngers getting on at Queenstown, he
iid, and as you saw when we were there
is quite a burry getting them aboard.
wo officers stand at each side of the
an gw ay and take up the tickets as the
eople crowd forward. They generally
ave their tickets in their hands and
here „ no trouble. I stood there and
:atched them coming on. Suddenly
here was a fuss and a jam.
*
.ay. hat it. T I asked , the officer. „
"u gtr.s, sir, say they have lost
tICkct8 '
| I took the girls aside and the stream
If humanity poured in. One was about
and the other, perhaps, 8 years old.
se little one had a firm grip of the
dcr’s hand and she was crying. The
ger girl looked me straight in the eye
* i questioned her.
“Where’s your tickets?”
“We lost thim, sur.”
“Where?”
“I dun no, sur.”
Do you think you have them about
ou or in your luggage?”
“We’ve no luggage, sur.”
“Is (his your sister?”
“She is, sur.”
"Are vour parents abroad?”
“They are not, sur.”
“Arc you all alone?”
“Wo are, sur.”
“Ton can't go without your tickets. „
1 he younger one began to cry the more
D| i the elder answered:
tl> quick, straightforward answers, and
1 seemed so impossible that children so
[oung should attempt to cross the ocean
nt-hout tickets that I concluded to let
licrn come and resolved to get at the
■uth on the way over
Kext day I told the deck steward to
ring the children to my room.
They came in just as I saw them the
hand of the younger, whose e, eyes v°, j
,hf S„07 .Ub r o*“
JC8.
“'Veil, have you found your tickets?”
“No, sur.” !
“\ci, , * , r name „„
“Bridget, sur ”
“Bridget wh f ■
.
“S1»U did
Khere 'Th Kildormey sur ”
bfm did you gei your tickets?”
Mr. O’Grady, sur.”
1 knew Kildormey as well as 1
this ,h.:,*,»‘ ship and 1 knew b^g,le. O’Gradv wa.
.
- dd ealat that moment for a few
'« d * with him. But I knew of no
viomnaton
lew miles from Kildormey. Now, thinks
I to myself, if these two children can
hnffle a purser that’s been twenty years
on the Atlantic when they say they
came from his own town, almost, by the
powers they deserve their passage ove r
the ocean. I had often seen grown peo
pie try to cheat their way across, and I
mayday none of them succeeded on my
* UfJS '
“Where’s your father and mother?”
“Both dead, sur.”
“Who was your father?”
“He was a pinshoner, sur.”
“Where did he draw his pension?’
“I aonno, sur.”
“Where did you get the money to buy
your tickets?”
“The neighbors, sur, and Mr. O’Grady
helped, sur.”
“What neighbors? Name tlmm.”
She unhesitatingly named a uumber>
many of whom I knew, and as that had
frequently been done before I saw no
reason to doubt the girl’s word.
“Now,” I said, “I want to speak with
your sister. You may go.”
The little one held on to her sister' 8
hand and cried bitterly,
When the other was gone, I drew the
child toward me and questioned her
but could not get a word in reply.
For the next day or two I was bothered
somewhat by a big Irishtran named
O’Donnell, who was a firebrand among
the steerage passengers, As we had
many English and German passengers,
as well as many peaceable Irishmen, who
complained of the constant ructions
O’Donnell was kicking up, I was forced
to ask him to keep quiet. He became
very abusive one day and tried to slriko
me. I had him locked up until he came
to his senses.
While I was in my room, after this
little excitement, Mrs. O’Donnell came
and pleaded for her rascally husband •
i had noticed her before. She was a
poor, 1 ' weak, ’ broken-hearted woman
whom her husband made , slave of, and
a
T1 I have no doubt beat her when he had .
the cha UC e. She was evidently mortally
seemed Enough ^^ake'rim lUe° ont^f 1
ber '
Well, ,, Mrs. O’Donnell,” I said, . “I’ll .
V0Ur civil >“ tongue U ‘ nd 8°> hut he heau "'ill have Keep to
a m ms aim
is hands off peo/ile. I’ve seen men
or i esg p U t j n i ro ns during a voyage
banded over to the authorities
ben they landed. And now I want
0 ti to do me a favor. There are two
biidren on board without tickets. I
don't believe they ever had tickets, and
want t0 fiud ou t. You’re a kind hearted
Mrs. O’Donnell, and perhaps the
will answer you.”
I had the two called in, and they came
in band as usual. Th elder looked
me as jj s b e couldn’t take Iter eyes oil
^
"
, . , -j t h
s e wan ai o spe 0 '•' A ''
questons about herself, I wins
to Mrs. O Donnell.
“Acuslila,” said Mrs. O’Donnell with
n f m i te ten deruess, taking the disengaged
of the e der girl. “Tell me, dar
where yee are from.”
I suppose I had spoken rather harsh
to them before, although 1 had not
illtended to do so. but however that may
l c at the first word of kindness from
the Liri. lips of their countrywoman both
^ broke down and cried as if their
dreVthem ., ,, h k The noor woman
toward her, and stroking the
fair hair of the elder girl, tried to com
fort her while the tears streamed down
her own cheeks. “Hush, acushla, hush,
d irliuts shure the gentlemir.’s not goin
to be hard wid two poor childher going
to a strange country.”
Of course it would never do to admi
that 1 the 1 ° company 1 could carry emigrants
‘
free through any matter , of f sympa >,
and I must have appeared rather hard
^ wH ** b * 1
.he duldrc, »W«., .od
let her '
1 could S et n0th,n " fr ° m S ’ rl CX
cent that she had lost her ticket and .
when we sighted New York I took them
to the steerage and asked the passengers
if any one would assume charge of the
children and pay their passage, ho one
would do so.
“Then.” I said “these children w.
tlievne zzzioZ s tiZ*
U>
There «,re grh.n. M M «>
cabinstewardcsswithorderstoseeth.it 1 at
they did not fcave the ship was
last convinced that they had no friends
onrr the steerage passengers. I in
„, n be
tended to take them ashore myself
S"7w fore-we Lk sailed, and I knew of good hands
Uo ,™,ld ... .« .he W.
JlhOPgh Idid not lmpoulto,
of the emigrants should know that
anv -^enough
.nMd bachelor purser
to pay for the passage o a
known Irish children.
We landed our cabin passengers a
steerage bbb-*f“V*| passen^rs to CasJGarfen. I
got the stewardess to bring out
COVINGTON, GEORGIA, AUGUST 12, 1885.
Just as the tender moved away there
was a wild shriek among the crowded
passengers, and Mrs. O’Donnell hung her
arms above her head and cried in the
most heart-rending tone I ever heard;
“Oh, my babies, mv babies.”
; “Kape quiet,” hissed O’Donnell, grasp
ing her by the arm. The terrible ten
days stiain had given way at last, and
the poor woman sank in a heap at his
feet.
“Bring back that boat,” I shouted,
and the tender came back.
“Come aboard here, O’Donnell.”
‘I’ll not!” he yelled, shaking his fist
at me.
“Bring that man aboard.”
They soon brought him back and I
gave his wife over to the care of the
stewardess. 8he speedily rallied, and
hugged and kissed her children as if she
woldd never t ,art with them.
“So, O’Donnell, these are your chil,
dren?”
“Yis, they are; an’ I’d have ye know
r,n in a frae couutry, bedad, and I dare
ye to ’ay a finger on me.”
“Don’t dare too much,” I said, “or I’ll
show you what can be done in a free
c oun tiy. Now if I let the children go
will you send their passage money to the
company when you get it?”
“I will,” he answered, although I knew
he lied.
“Well,” I said, “for Mrs. O’Donnell’s
sake I'll let them go, and I must con¬
gratulate any free country that gets a
citizen like you.”
0f course 1 never heard from O’Donnell
since .—Detroit Free Press.
Greeley's Wakeful Sleep.
On another occasion, says Oliver John¬
son, I went with him (Horace ,Greeley)
to hear a discourse from Rev. William
Henry Channing. It was Sunday morn¬
ing, and the topic announced was one in
which he felt a special interest, Mr.
Channing was then, in fact, ministering
to a congregation of which Mr. Greeley
was a prominent member. It was in a
liall on the west side of Broadway, above
Canal gtreetj w here Dr. Dewey had
^ached Mr ’ Grcele aforetime. V be gS ed On me the t0 way kee thither P h,m
-
awake. We occupied a settee within
s ix feet of the platform, and right under
tj Him }e eve awake q f t Kg Tiy frequeut tuggings .1 at ms
c ibow and playing a by no means soft
tattoo upon his ribs. But it was of no use.
He was “nid nodding” through the whole
discourse, not a little to Mr. Channing’s
annoyance, who observed my unsuccessful
efforts to keep his great auditor awake.
j3 U t n ow comes the wonderful part of my
story. Mr. Greeley and I, when the
se rvice was over, went back to the Trib
une office together. He sat down to hi
de sk at once, and made an abstract o
j[ r . Channing’s discourse, filling some
w hat less than a column, which appeared
k y, .g t ■ £ ban
a7d nin „ ato^rd was utterly aS amazed tTf when he saw it, I
R was possh
b , Mr Greelev had made the report
nen i torn mm that p saw a him w hil
he was preparing it, and could certify
that it weut to the compositor in his own
handwriting, and that, moreover, 1 had
myself read the proof, he expressed the
greatest astonishment. “Why,” said he, I
“Icould not myself have made so accu¬
rate an abstract of my discourse, which,
thougli premeditated, was extemporane
ous. He has not only gBen the sub
siance of what I said: he has followed
my line of thought, and remembered not
a little of my language.” I do not pre
tend to offer any explanation of this
grange mental test. But I am absol ute
y certain of the facts as I have related
them, and that wh it had the appearance
of unqualified sleep was in reality a con.
dition in which the mental faculties
were somehow awake and active.
T. ~
A Spanish c , Vendetta. . S
The Madrid correspondent of the
relates a striking in
t0 death - but h,s e « c “ tldn 1
the the victim , s fa
bf v vc!1 ? ence 0 .
- bet
There had been ill feeling ee
families for three yeats bu
bw n no open quarrel until the murder of
Moralis. Soon after the execution o
the month, murderer, th ‘‘ ^
turn.from a fai ^ het ;"“° fr a ^
ri™..oh
side including women and children. A
rogui.r plt.Md bml. cn.u.J.
the men, wh P -
tbaiiMitew. comp
the chil ^
t ,
nately. the r.i 1 1
he dS , ““ .
4b * 4 ** * ® ‘ ® ™ ““
killed, two of ' a
th. ohild™ Tta.mu
mutilate. V
the^-^ ^ of
t he mulas were killed, and the baggage
„f the two families was strewn about in
S ^j^^ph-db..,. d that the road for half a
LADIES' COLUMN.
I Health and Culture.
Weak spines, weak eyes, weak legs
and dyspeptic stomachs are so common
among the “highly educated women of
Boston that in the minds of many people L
ill health and mental development
inseparable. The Mail and Express com
menting upon an article in a medical
journal on this subject, observes:
“Weakness is the result of ignorance
and negligence of the laws of health,
rather than of overstudv. Proper food
and proper exercise will insure a devel¬
opment of physical strength for the av¬
erage woman which will enable her to
master any college curriculum without
injury to health. It is strange that wo
men do ‘ not give more attention to diet
and exercise for the sake of good looks,
for most of them are willing to undergo
almosl any torture in the hope of be¬
coming more beautiful. Any girl who
eats as a sensible person ought to eat,
and walks not less than two miles daily
in the open air, may expect not only to
be able to endure the hard study requi¬
site to the ‘higher education,’ but also
to paint becoming color on her cheek
without cosmetics.”
Freak* of >orletf Girls.
Only a minute minority of our fash¬
ionable girls, says a New York corre¬
spondent, take an interest in anything so
serious as evangelical work. Even when
they go into benevolence, it is apt to be
in a freakish way. I met one who told
me, with giggling rhapsody, that she
had a whole hospital of her own—a play¬
house, I felt like calling it, after finding
out what it was. The pet charity of New
York’s “best society, is the skin and
cancer hospital, for which the annual
charity ball is given, and in the manage¬
ment of which several of the most influ¬
ential matrons are concerned. It is a
truly beneficent institution. But the
belles are now caught by the idea of
personally supporting the small, separate
pavilions iqto which the hospital is di¬
vided, Each ccntains four beds. The
girl with whom I talked was
elated with the horribleness of can¬
cer as developed in the four pa¬
tients in her pavilion, and seemed to be
proud of th<? , fact that they were worse
than those in a friend’s beds. Well, the
caiise and effect were both X’dfyruamxv good anyhow.
1 - in • w a r Wfc t -«*—«*— At xiunv
in the less useful line of amateur pho¬
tography. This maiden’s modesty was
not cute enough to keep her from self¬
appreciation. She had never been satis¬
fied with the portraits which professional
photographers made for her. She felt
sure that her sweetest expression had
not yet been caught by the camera, as
she often saw it in her mirror. Having
a camera with the usual attachment for
taking instantaneous views she has spent
her leisure hours for a week or two in
making negatives of her own visage. A j
string hitched to the trigger of the in
str “ meo4 enables her to be both operator
^d subject; and thus, m the F nvacy of
er chain >er, wit nospiOa or to niter
or make afraid,.she transfers her srmlea
and frowns to the plates, to be subse
quenf)y deveJoped int0 photographs, in j
case sbe deeins theln vvo nh it. She has
^ ^ made m different pictureg Q
k erse lf.
-
Fashion Notes.
Watered Irish poplins are revived.
Stringless bonnets are worn by youth
ful women only.
The fine embroideries on fine bonnets
are marvels of artistic work.
Yellow is as fashionable with white as
it is with black, not the deep buttercup
color, but the tint of pale gold or cop
pery yellow, which has a decided sus
picion of terra cotta about it.
The ncw bonnets are high in front
ana pinched in as closely at the sides
as the formation of the head will allow,
Gold appears in nearly every one in some
sh other but chiefly in that of tin- !
p r ’ ‘ !
. , •
.
'
A pretty feKion with the open |
of i ore pc lisse which form part of !
are
^ phcmjsi . tte- The delicate suggestion
^ t!u . color of the dress in the i ace is ,
very >1 pretty :
- --- i ,
Catchtng Porpoises.
The capture of a school of porpoises
furnishes very exciting sport. A seine
uea rly a mile long is paid out from the
—
lrom tt,e °l’ en
" , "a “irlgto , th’.
>o
charge upon the net. As the huge crea
tares, often each, weighing easily one break thousand if j
pounds can seme
thev set out for it, the onlv safeguard is
to distract them and divert their atten
tion blowlv a^d steadily *e seine is !
U .»«„M .h. HU* .... -I...
.„,„ough, , uulbr b brought
into J p i ay inside the larger one. With
th few ^ n«e arc cut off
from the main schoo an ia 'i e ’
main force on the shore, where they are
dispatched w th lances or knives It is
..............g .hi. -1.
through the wt.-Ci**,* Im*.
CATTLE RAISING.
-
Immense Area i »ed for crazing
-*'«-**» « '»»“«"•
^ 7 _ l 6 ° p0rtifm ° f and the kn United StateS the ^ d6V °
° WD aS
9 'l uare ^ “‘! 6 es area 44 ’ P" embraces cent of ^65,000 the tota
' '
°* ^ Umt * d SUteS eXClUS1Ve , ° f
Alaska. It is a surface equal to that of
Great Britain and Ireland, France, Ger¬
many, Denmark, Holland, Belgium’
Austria, Hungary, Italy, Spain and Por¬
tugal, and one-fifth of Kussia in Europe
combined.
Foreign as well as domestic companies
own cattle that graze on this immense
territory. In Texas, where are the larg¬
est ranches, the cattle exhibit marked
self-reliant traits of the wild animal
being strong in the instinct of seeking
food and water, and of self-protection
against the inclemency of the weather.
In the language of the herdsmen they
are g -od “rustlers,” which means tha
they know how and where to find food
and water and have the alertness and
8p * r ‘ 4 to 8eeb t * lem u pon the vast plains
and ’ n vade ys and mountain fastnesses
-
where they roam, and even beneatlr the
snows which in the winter at times, in
the more northerly regions, cover their
feeding grounds.
It is estimated that during the year
1884 about 300,000 cattle were driven
from Texas to northern ranges, to be there
matured for marketing, and that about
625,000 beef cattle were shipped from
Texas direct to the markets of Kansas
city St. Louis, Chicago and New Orleans,
Already the range and ranch business
of the Western and Northwestern States
and Territories has assumed gigantic
proper ions. The total number of cat
tie in tins area, east of the Rocky moun
tains and north of New Mexico and
Texas, is estimated at 7,500,000, and
their value at $187,500,000. ]
The average cost of raising a steer on
the ranges, not including interest on the
capital invested, is usually estimated by
the large stock owners at from seventy,
five cents to $1.25 a year. Thus a steer
four years old ready for market has cost
the owner $4 or $5 to raise. When
driven to the railroad he is worth from
125 to $45. A recent estimate, approved
by a number of Wyoming ranchmen,
ylhrW'ft lAfcfr (/(Mi 1 -
sand cows with one thousand yearlings,
md thirty-five short-horn bulls, repre
aenting in all, with ranch improvements
and horses, an investment of about
$70,000, at $40,000.
Recently the cattle owners have joined
in a request to the government asking for
the establishment of a Northern train to
Northern fattening grounds. The quan
tity of land which the government of the
United States is asked to donate for the
purpose of establishing the proposed
trail begins at the southern border line
of Colorado, and extends to the northern
Dorder bne 0 f the United States. It is
proposed that it shall be of variable
w j dtb ’ f rom two hundred feet at crossing
placeg {or „ n ati ve catrie,” to six mites a t
the widest part. It must, of course, have
sufficient width not only for a line of
travel, but also for a feeding
ground of cattle “on the trail.” Such a
trail, of an average width of three miles,
and extending to the Dominion of Can
ada, would be 090 miles in length, and
have an area of 2,070 square miles, or
1,324,800 acres.
They think thig would not be too
much, when it is considered that forty
eight millions of acres of the public do
main have been given to railroads.
To a very considerable extent foreign
ers of large means, and who indicate no
intention whatever of becoming citizens
of the United States, have purchased
lands within the great range and
ranch cattle area, and embarked in
the cattle business. Titles to such lands
have been secured, not only by indivi
duals, but also by foreign corporations,
Certain of these foreigners are titled
nobl«meoolcomtrie<mEuro f e. Some
the lar « e landed esUtes of Euro P e ' 1 hc
P ubllc ^ntim- nt of this country appears
to be opposed to allowing foreigners to
acquire title to large products of land
in this country. During the second ses
sion of the Forty-eighth Congress, the
Hon. William G. (lates of Alaouma,pre
seated a report upon the subject to the
House of Representatives, from the com
„ iri n-r turn to or owning lands
within ,h. Wi..d Sum.
ownersnips, were presented during a
digcuisioa o{ the subject by members of
that body.
EnglishSyndtalto English Syndicate Na No. 3 1 (in (in Texas) Texas) S,<»0,000 4^000
a (Er !^.
c . B L d Company of Lon- ^
Gerluiui HVndioate’'' .V.l’. ioo’ooo
svn'dicate, . .
An an headed
l y Mr. Hog •«, London .. ..~ 7o0,00)
A.^.1. D^e « mrn 5 -« W
of Sutherland...............
British Land and Mortgage Com¬
Captain pany............................ Whalley, M. 320,000
P. for Peler
Missouri boro’, Eng....................... 310,000
Land Company, Edin¬
Hon. burgh, Scotland.................. 300,000
Robert Tennant, of London.. 230,000
Scotch Land Company, Dundee,
Scotland........................ 247,660
Lord Dunmore.................... 100,000
Benjamin land Nswgas, Liverpool, Eng¬
............................ 100,000
Lord Houghton.................... 60,000
Lord Dunraven................... 60,000
English Land Company (in Florida) 50,000
English Land Company’, repre¬
sented by B. Newgas............ 50,000
An English capitalist (in Arkansas) 50,000
Albert Peel, M. P. Leicestershire,
Sir England......................... John 10,000
Lester ICaye, Yorkshire,
England........................ 5,000
George Grant, of London (in Kan¬
sas) ............................ 100,000
An by English Close syndicate (represented
Bros.) in Wisconsin..... 110,000
A Scotch company (in California).. 140,000
M. Kllerhauser, (of Nova Scotia,) in
West Virginia................... 600,000
A Scotch syndicate (in Florida).... 500,000
A. Boyesen, Danish Consul, at Mil¬
waukee .......................... 50,000
Missouri Land and S. S. Co., of Ed¬
English inburgh, Scotland............... 165,000
Syndicate (in Florida)..... 59,000
Total.......................... 20 , 541,666
Wall Slreet Brokers’ Lunches.
Between 1 and 2 o’clock in the ifter
noon, Wall street is at lunch. Some
times it takes a bite, sometimes more,
but never a feast But the whole
“street” must have the bite at least in
the middle of the day, and for two
hours then the neighboring restaurants
are thronged. The remainder of the
day they are deserted. Wall street has
been suffering from the large financial
depression. Yet during it all the re»
tauratenrshave thrived. Many of them
have grown rich in the business, and the
prosperity of private individuals has im
pelled the organization of heavily capit
alized stock companies to supply the
inner wants
What on the lulls of fare are desig- |
nated “Dishes ready,” are most called
for. The patrons of the restaurants have
not ™d time to wait for dishes to be pre- j
P a for them. For that reason roasts,
fillets, stews, soups and the like are gen
erally called for. Many of the bankers
and brokers do not leave their offices for
lunch. Their appetites are satisfied at
their desks, where they can alternately
cast their eye on their plates and on the
tape. No restaurant could exist without
a ticker, and whenever one sits down
for a mouthful the clatter of the instru
ment awaits his ear. {
spoil'a good dinner by a' good - lunch '
to
earlier. Mr. Gould’s lunch is as light as
he can make it. It is as a rule served to
him in the office of the Western Union
building, and consists of a small piece of
beei, lamb or chicken, followed by a
modest amount of fruit in season Df
strawberries, Mr. Gould is particularly
fond, and he has them for lunch as long
as they are in the market. Mr. Gould
drinks water only with his lunch.
Addison Cammnck, the “Big Bear,” is
equally as abstemious as Mr. Gould. He
lunches when down town at Delmonico’s
Broad street, or Beaver street place.
His order is for something that is pre- j
pa,ed-a piece of beef or lamb nearly |
always. No stimulants or sweetmeats are
taken by him. Cyrus W. Field’s lunch
is more elaborate. When his office wag
at. Broadway and Liberty street he took
it at the Down Town Club. Now he takes
it in the Washington building, at the
foot of Broadway, where he has his office.
Russell Sage is a plain liver. His lunch
consists of nothing more than a sandwich
and an apple or two, eaten at his desk,
Sometimes when business brings the two
together he lunches with ,, Mr. Gould. „
He avoids liquors. Few of the men in
^ lunc “ “’ arket ^noto-wthy^hingH^the “ * *
fact that f they ao not , can , . .
.
p ate of soup, a piece ot mca o p
of hsh, is all they require. a
on the other hand show a li mg
sweets They have more time a„ da
t.tes than the operators^ ^ot nearly the
amount of wine is drank in the street
that is supposed to be. The men who
risk their fortunes on the market have
lo keep cle.r l»«d. m.d lho« .hoe.n
-»» Well e.re.h
s . rMt a8 the 1 fly ^ by and BWal , ow them
- Th sf / gandwiches would
‘
J’ ^ S.ovs .„ aevfr a e d in^rnai , )ut
me , sen g „e r ‘ feel an
Z - ,, , ta u
W
[“ drank th ^ gtreet is sllrprisia g. Milk
■ d vicbv i* « common order. Vichy
ze8 t to the milk,
ai,d an old partner of Mr ' bould s ’
** “1 ™ **
distributed on the street, a copy must
be sent, with the editor’s name, to the
government and one to the censor.
When the paper is returned with the
censor’s indorsement the paper may go
out to the public. One of the newspa
,«7. o. Hft.an, dl.u^d, ,h. bw. pub
li.h.. wh.l It pi...... ,,nd »h™ « get.
ready. Every few weeks the government
new name. Its frequent brushes with
the government advertise it. and people
buv lt to see what new indiscretion it'
{-«-£*• The subuription pric.
18 * U *
VOL. XL NO 39.
WORDS OF WISDOM.
He that gets out of debt grows rich.
A hovel well kept is a palace to the
inmates.
Much learning shows how little mortal
knows.
Better go round about than fall into
the ditch.
A pleasant tone and a sweet smile cost
nothing.
Virtue and a trade are the best por¬
tions for children.
Any one may do a casual act of good
nature, but a continuation of them
shows it to be a part of the tempera¬
ment.
Useful knowledge can have no enemies
except the ignorant; it cherishes youth,
delights the aged, is an ornament in
prosperity, and yields comfort in ad¬
versity.
As they who, for every slight infirmity
take physic to repair their health, do
Tather impair it; so they who, for every
trifle, are eager to vindicate their char¬
acter, do rather weaken it.
Gastronomical Jumble.
A traveller relates in Lippincott's Mag
azine, the following story of the cuisi»e
of Sweden: “The habit of lunching in
the very presence of dinner, of going to
a side table and eating your fill of an¬
chovies, raw herrings, smoked beef and
cold eel-pie while dinner is on the very
table, still prevails, and is hardly condu¬
cive to health. It is said that the habit
of taki , ft , ag the Swedes call it[
aro8e lrom the 9cardty of dfclicacleg . It
wafl hard t0 t enough of any one nice
thing to make a meai 0 f, so you were
(irBt delicately innuendoed off to the
brand table (a8 it ig cal i ed) , and then
allowed to Bit down to dinner The prac .
£ . . . , . „ , Private
0 u ,e“
feed yQu on preliminary scrap8) and woe
be tQ you if you innocently turn avvay
from the plofIered i uncheonl Y ou fare
ukQ an and feed yourse if 0 n
odorg The ordinary routine of dining
Beems in Swedeu t0 be in wiid coufugion
sometimes ends instead of begin
^ d - nner Iced and cold
fish are daintieg t0 the Scandinavian pal
ate Much of the soup ’« nauseously
sweet, flavored with cherries, raspberries.
cakes 8nd spikes of cinnamon floating
w jj d ]y about in it. This is eaten as a
*
sort of de8 scrt, and is cold and often
beautifully clear, If Heine bitterly
rev j] ed the English for bringing vege
tab i es on the table au naturel, there is
no such complaint to be made here,
Heaven, earth, and satan’s dominion are
eaten w ith sauce — sauces red, white,
and blue, green, yellow, and black—
sauce celestial and sauces infernal,
strange combinations of ice-cream
heaped over delicious apple-tarts, or
gtrange dishes of berry juice boiled, down
and m ixed with farina, sugar, and al
mo nds, ’ then cooled, f’ molded, and turned
out in t0 , J88ill8 0 cream, to be eaten
w j t li crushed sugar and wine, appear at
the end of dinner. The Swedes share
w jth the Danes and Arabs a passionate
f ondn ess for sweetmeats. Everything is
gijghtly sweet; even green peas are
gU g ar ed, as well as the innumerable tea
and co ffee cakes, so that long before the
unhappy tourist has finished his tour he
j 8 a hopeless dyspeptic or a raging Swe
dophobe.”
An Oregon Sturgeon’s Sagacity.
Many remarkable stories have been
told concerning the sagacity of the stur
geon, some of which are hard to believe,
That these fish are endowed with a heap
of savey is shown by the following:
Yegterday afternoon a number of repre.
8enta tives from the fish markets of this
cit barked on the steamer, “Calliope”
^ see lhe launch o{ the “Multnomah.”
They ^ were standing J in a row along the
^ & hi Qphical looking old
8,1 , , r(Tpnn S i pan Pf „ d ml t of the river on the
guard of the boa , . f g a better
oI art’d"'."™ 0 witK
a minute later came to the surface half
a mile off, looking ha«k to see if he was
pursued. Seeing the fishermen ■ still
standinginarowandlookingdisconso
late, he and^eutly put his tail to the end of his.
no, waved it. like a long/
bony hand, at them, and then teent bo¬
low to resume his regular business of
catching sucker,-PoM Oregonian,
-«.
Reports collected since the memorable
»'
heard over a circle of thirty degrees radi
' I9 ; A more astonishing announcement
still is now made by Dr. F. A. Forel, the
■well-known Swiss physicist. He has
learned that on the day ol the great
eruption startling subterranean noises re¬
sembling the rolling of distant thunder
were heard in Caiman-Brae, a small
island in the Caribbean Sea, near the
antipodes of the volcano of Sunda Strait.
These sounds can not readily be attrib
u t e d to any neighboring voicanic dis
turbance , and Dr. Forel is forced to infer
that they may have been propogated
through the entire diameter of the earth-