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DESTINY,
Likn a shadow that flies from the sun god, we
slip out of life and are gone.
The place where wo were is vacant, for
who will remember till noon.
The drop of dew like a diamond which
pleased at the glimmer of dawn?
And when th< > ttm%er has left us, who car<
to rememeber the tunc?
In the leaves’ deep drift in the forest what
bird is seeking the one
Beneath who*- shelter she buildwl her tedi¬
ous love cradling nest?
It has Jived 1 it wa* used, has perished; now
,
liot “1 r iso being done;
Forgotten of sun shine and songster in the
dust when< it came. Jt is best.
But we, we shrink from the leaf's fate, and
wo murmur: f ~ they forget;
I hr so friends whom w*< loved,who loved
us
and shared in our pleasures and mirth.
Our names are I. tin t h« silence death bring
et.li, rtn 1 no regret
Kndureth for us, Jow lying in the green
gemmed bosom of earth ”
)h, mortal, accept the omen; wo Jive, we 3
used, and w<* fall
As the !<-«f lasfore us has fallen. We p
from our ond are not.
The Jiving have grief suffi. ient content thee
to fold in thy pdl
Keim-.nbr.ui. e and -orrowful irriovimr „„ 1
l*e of the livh, (tor r f orzot
(Jhirr S' • ■ ■ Mi inter-Ocean.
ONE TOUCH OF NATURE.
hy 1,. I>. I.KKCII.
It was in the early seventies, and I and
my two partners were running a cattle
ranch loca'ed on the Dig Medicine River
in southwestern Kansas.
Flic recently finished Dacific railroads
to tlie north of us had driven the buffalo
pretty well out of the southern country
ami the millions of acres of rich grasses
which had pastured countless thousands
of these animals for untold ages past, now
lay open to the herds of the cattlemen,
We were among the first ranchers who
entered tin* new field, but at the time of
winch I write nearly one hundred cow
camps had been established within a
radius of fifty miles of ours.
Gee of the most recent arrivals in tlie
neighborhood was a New Englander
named Bailey, a quiet, rather delicate-*
looking fellow of about thirty five, who,
a year before my story opens, had come
<»u the range, bought a couple of bun¬
dled head of cattle, and located a ranch
on the North Fork, about twenty miles
west of our camp.
Bailey was a shy, reserved sort of
man, and although hospitable enough
when visited, evinced but little of that
whole-souled fraternal sociability wiiieli
generally the characterizes the lordly riders
ol range. This made him very un¬
popular, and with the exception of an
old Mexican herdsman, who served him
in the capacity of cowboy, he had few
friends and no intimates.
AVe are all entirely too ready to believe
the worst of any one whom we dislike,
and cowboys are no exception to the
rule.
Jim i o when, one autumn afternoon, big
Smith, the boss herder of the circle
bar ranch, cairn thundering up to the
1 11 gout, willi his pony all afoain, and,
calling me outside, told me that Bailey
which amis running off a lmneh of steers in
there were a lot of strays belong¬
ing to oilier .ranchers, and that the boys
had gotten wind of it, and Avere organ¬
izing a pursuing party to catchandhang
him for cattle thieving, I did not doulit
the accused man’s guilt.
Ten minutes later 1 had belted on my
revolver, saddled my pony, and was
galloping rendezvous, like the wind for the appointed
all too ready to take my part
in the antieinated “hanging-bee.”
AVe were a' wild, rough-looking set who
met that evening at the 2-X ranch, and
started out on poor Bailey’s trail. To
tell tlie truth, we were most of us as wild
and rough as wo looked.
Thcre were fifteen in the company
altogetluT, for the most part owners, or
part owners, of ranches, and the rest
cowboys We were all well mounted,
and each was armed with knife and
volver, while from every saddle-horn
bung the ever- present lariat, the all-im
portant item, next to his pony, of a cow
boy’s equipment.. *
Tom Anderson,astrapping Missouriau,
who 11111 the 2 X brand, and who was tho
acknowledged fell master-spirit of the range,
naturally into the lead upon this
oevasion, as lie did upon all others where
intrepid required.' daring and unyielding ‘ firmness
werc
Tom was what the cowboys call a
“ holy terror.” He did not know what
fear was; hut, thou< r h relentlessly fierce
and cruel when enraged, he had a heart
that was as tender as a child's in some of
its moods lie was a lion in both looks
am! nature, and we all admired him, and
gene,ally h. sReadership. submitted, without question, to
< ur party rode over sixty miles that
night, and just as ,t began to grow light
next morning we came up with Bailey,
He ami his old herder wore engaged in
cookmg when breakfast over their camp-fire
d,d we appeared upon the scene, and
we not wad tor them to finish their
meal 1 eiore explaining their business.
ni'du'rhle* 111 we ' inV w'-ro^i '''n'rlf'lonkino jiV k
crew XV n 1.1: 1 ,, . v r»C . r
..miasm I he rose W ariu
mmouriy greeted ns with a •• Good
and oui n-, gentlemen! as we advanced
drew up around the fire.
reeoiVTx!ur VOr C ^ lus salutat, ? n: lt was
mu t dMh gnm " omrnons silence
SZ t Cnr Vl { mi \ K,y !\ Z bl l e
• , b that
1 1 uu 1 tat ‘ ‘ s>ee tjere
■
tit U i' S ‘ a ° al ’ l ' u t 1 Le strays. AY e
es ant to.be eoitun . he , s guilty before go
i. g a.!> wither, said our loader; and,
lv T : ' Ud r' VC ; al °! hcr S ° f J
n u • " 1 ‘d tow aid a bunch of # cattle
that . wmc gra mg upon _tn.' pnune not
fat oil. nhJe the rest of us kept guard
ovu b.uley. who had now grown pale as
dca h. and was trembling in every limb.
T T aiU 110 ° tbe ” re *
tunnd. 1 and, a. they approached, Tom
: "R s true boys. There's a dozen
strays m the lot, and no mistake,” and
turning, without more ado, to the
cowering culprit, he added, with a harsh
abruptness that was simply terrible:
A on. E.ult'x. are a cattle-thief, and we
havo come after you to hang you. Vou
know iiio law of file range when you
!iro ^' lt ' so you must abide by it. You
shall have an hour, and an hour only, to
for death.”
As liis doom was thus spoken, Bailey,
j>qor wretch, was completely overcome
m it h terror and <ii«inuy.
•'O bovs. b >ys, don t hang me! You ^
niustn t hang me . he tried piteously,
falling suppliant iy on his knees. “1
swear l am innocent I call on my Maker
to witness that l intended to pay you for
your cattle. Oh, have mercy, and don’t
hang me!’ and lie broke completely
down, and wept like a child.
Rut it was no u-e. lhere was no
lent ing in the harsh, stmi faces of bis
captors, no softening of their grim de
termination; and not a syllable of dis
■ent.was uttered when our leader spoke
ag an, and said sternly ;
_
I’HE MONROE ADVERTISER: FORSYTH. GA., TUESDAY". APRIL IT, 1888.—EIGHT PAGES.
Mercy from us you will not receive,
lou naa best pr»y^ for it. from your
. aker. In an hour s time you will be
m “is presence. 4
A« I om spoke, the poor wretch gave
one despairing of the look at the unrelenting
about iff" him, and, men grouped meeting w*h oo theer ponies sign
; >**'•*, not uui a sign
of pity, fell, with a hopeless groon, face
downward upon the grass.
“I “I reckon reckon we we had had better better leave leave him him by by
himself fur awhile, boys. If he has any
prayin' without to do, I allow he kin do it better
apiece till a his aujiencc; bo lets draw off
time's up.”
T his most opportune and delicate
suggestion came from old Jake. Lape,
and it was acted upon with alacrity. AVe
immediately hundred moved off for a distance of
a - yards or so, and and left left the the
doomed man alone to make his final
preparations for death. Although wc
fuily intended to hang him, we all felt
that It was no more than right to show
h;m all the politeness and courtesy ad
missible under the circumsta ices.
dejectedly Shortly after we rode off, Bailey rose
to his feet, thrust his hand
into his bosom, and drawing forth what
looked, from a distance, like a letter,
dropped upon his knees and pressed it
again and again to his lips with im
P** placed 8 * 00 ®^ it in fervor. his bosom, Afterward and, bowing he his re
“ Rad > s P ent lhe remainder of his
hour seemingly in silent prayer.
When drew the time had finally expired, and
wc near the kneeling culprit to
finish our dread work, he arose to m.jet
us with an air so calm and gentle, so
utterly changed, that it astounded 11 s,
for we had expected to meet with ti-yjs
and supplications and struggles.
He ottered not the slightest resistejnee
when we bound his hands securely lie
hin<1 him > an,l > lifting him upon his
| horse, drove with him down to the creek
j Bottom, where a scraggy cottonwood had
already been selected to serve as gal
l° ws> •
■ Hailey was driven under the tree; the
' noose °f a lariat was quickly end placed
about his neek, and the other thrown
across an overhanging limb, and made
fast to tlie trunk. Old I.ape had his
I down ‘ ‘quint” raised the in flank readiness tlie to bring doomed it
across o£
man’s pony at the word of command; all
was ready for the final net, when Bailey
raised his head and spoke.
( ailing Tom Anderson to his side, he
said; “Tom will you do a favor for a
dying man?”
“What is it?” was the gruff reply.
“I want you to promise to see that my
family gets what little property I leave,
They are poor, and will need it badly,
Tom; so, please promise. I know you’ll
do it if you say you will.”
•‘Well, Bailey, I’ll do it, if that’s all
you want. Vou may rest easy on that
score; I promise,” answered Tom, in a
softened tone.
“Thank you, Tom; and now, just one
thing more, please,” “reach continued the
prisoner eagerly, into uiy bosom
and get the picture that’s there, and let
me have another look at my wife and
children before I die.
We all under of us sat cottonwood grouped about on our
ponies the during this
scene, and, as Tom Anderson complied
with Bailey’s request, tuul taking a pic¬
ture from the prisoner 1 ^ bosom held it
before him so that he could look at it,
the surrounding group of rough cow¬
boys became utterly absorbed in the
scene.
noise Not a whisper the Avas uttered, and the
of restive ponies, as they
champed their bits or stamped impa¬
tiently upon the grecnsAvard, alone broke
the solemn stillness.
AVitli a look of unspeakable tender
ness, Bailey glued his eyes upon the
photograph minute. and held them there for
fully a
Then his hea l dropped suddenly upon
his breast, and, with a groan, hc cried
out, in despairing accents:
“O boys, boys! it’s hard to die and
leave them all alone; and to die in such
a way, too! It will kill poor Ma»ry, if
! she's not dead already; 1 know it will.”
He no longer looks at the picture, but
Tom Anderson himself was gazing at it
instead, bong and earnestly he looked
: at it, but did not speak a word. Then
he handed it to old man Lape, and it
passed from hand to hand until every
man in the party had taken a long look
! at it. “
A sweet, gentle woman’s face looked
| smilingly forth from the midst of the
j card, while chubby over each face tilled of her with shoulders
peeped and a innocence. the border childish
glee card written, On in clear, delicate of
the was a
hand: “Come home soon, papa; we're
so lonely without you.”
AVhen the picture had gone the
rounds, and Tom Anderson retained it
reverently to Bailey’s bosom, the culprit
raised his head and said:
“It was for their sake, boys, I drove
the cattle off in such a hurry. I got
word yesterday tho that my wife was dying,
and L took first steers I could find in
order to get the money to see her It
was wrong, I suppose, but I would have
paid you for every head I took when I
came back.
bike a flash Tom Anderson . s knife
xvas out of its sheath. A quick stroke
and the rope about the prisoner s neck
was severed Instantly Bailey s pony
bore him aside, and in lus place facing
wh'h uplffted'hind i and hi«f eves fairly
! bh d n "o„ w ith m-f tierce excitement' S while ^akor we
ere n r
move.
“That man speaks tho truth!” he
'shouted. “He never intended to steal
; them catrie. But whether he did or not,
it’s all the same to me; the man that lays
I body. nn ? er °“ It ,u T 1 n i had n \ a xMte d r l L° like r tliat 7 “f ladj , dcad 111
| the pictur an she was sica. Id steal
, every entter on the range to git to her;
an the man s a flag that won Ida t. It
any man here thinks different 1 ,11 ready
to tight it out with him right here and
now.”
]• or a moment there was no response,
then old man Lape spoxe up;
“YVell, Tom, ’ said he, “ye needn _ t
talk t0 m, gLty herce. as that no one s skeered gom to
fight ye. I guess. Not we re
of ye, Tom. You mustn’t flatter your
self by thinkin’ that at all, but we all feel
about the same as you do in the matter,
Leastwise I do, and to show Bailey that
I believe he's innocent. I hereby make
him a present of them three steers 0
bun b.
“Bully for you. old man 1 them’s my
sentiments; and I'll chip in the steers
that belong to me, too shouted Bill
Smith.
4 ‘Same here’/’ yelled Dutch Frank,
rubbing two big tears off his cheeks with
his grimy fist.
“I’m with you,boys I” shouted another,
“Ale, too!” said another, and a minute
later every one of the “-trays” that had
cau-ed all the trouble belonged as much them
to Bailey as if the flank of each of
bore his brand and no other.
j 'tremendous. The revulsion The of feeling was simply who
very men
ten minutes before had been ruthlessly
j intent upon hanging Bailey now crowded
around him, begging forgiveness, and
vying with one another as to which
could do the most for him.
Such of us as owned none of the
“strays” actually felt mean, and jealous
of those who did until Tom Anderson
giv.- suggested a way in which we too, might
“Bovs,” vent to said our he, generous impulses.
“there's none o’ mv
critters in Bailey's bunch, but next spring
I’m a-goin’ to brand twentv calves for
that mat mitegm littlegiil m in the ine pictur, pictur”, and ana it's it s my
intention to take care of them and their
increase for her until she’s growed up.”
“Now you're shoutin’. Tom! I'll do
the same, chimed in another,
“I’ll go twenty for the little boy!”
shouted another; and soil went until
each u man luau of us hac ma le a liberal con
tribution.
! Poor Bailey was entirely overcome,
1 and no wonder. To escape hanging so
j ! narrowly, and five minutes nr later to have
those those who who had had been been l bent upon executing
; him eagerly competing with one another
j as to which could show him the greatest
j kindness was enough to upset anv man.
lie tried to express liis feelings co
J herently. in the midst but could his not; and we left him
of tears and protesta
tions of gratitude, an l r de off to the
nearest ranch to procure food and rest
for ourselves and our ponies before start
ing on our homeward journev.
-
Bailey is at present one of the wealth
iest and most popular cattle men in the
Southwest.
His wife did not die, but recovered,
and now resides with him at his ranch
on the North Fork.
1 AVe cowboys kept word; and the
our
spring after the lynching affair saw sev
oral hundred calves branded with the
initials of Bailey’s son and daughter and
turned loose on the range, "them
j AVith his share of and their
progeny the boy has stocked a big
ranch of his own; while the share of
the little girl, who is, by the wav, one
j of graced the loveliest the prairie flowers that ever
richest plains, makes her one of the
heiresses in tae State. — Youth's
Companion.
Breton AVolves.
A Breton wolf, with a good start in
his favor and a strong point, like the
Forest of Dualt, to make for, is as hard
for hounds to catch as the wildest fox.
The lonely peasant who lives in a straw
| thatched hut among the rocks and for
ests of Lower Brittany has often a hard
time of it when th: snow lies thick on
the ground and food is scar. c. His only
hope, when “the loud howling of the
wolves is heard amid the snow,” consists
in keeping ;• brightly burning fire alight
in liis little one-roomed cottage. There
is a well authenticated story of a wood
cutter or charbonnier, who lived in the
midst of the Forrest of Dualt. Night
after night a hungry pack of wolves be
sieged ling him and his wife, and the tremb
hut dogs and sheep on which the little
afforded shelter. One night the
pair of human watchers, worn out by
want of sleep, allowed the fire to burn
low. I 11 an instant a wolf sprang upon
j through the thatch,and scratched a big hole in it,
J his which, followed by four or five
! of starving brethren, he jumped down
j upon the floor. Awakened by tlie noise,
the woodcutter lighted a match; but
quicker than thought two dogs and threa
sheep had fallen victims to the ravenous
invaders. All that tlie man saw was the
tail of a wolf disappearing through tho
hole in the roof. Such incidents rarely
happen in France, although the wolves)
frequently roam about at night in the
streets of little towns under the Pyrenees
or upon the slopes of the Vosges. In
Hindostan, on the other hand, the de¬
struction of children by wolves is a mat¬
ter of constant occurrence. “The Brig
ands,” as Mr. Phil. Robinson, the author
l Tn my Indian Garden,” styles them,
boldly visit the haunts of man by night,
roam among his gardens, loiter in his
pleasure grounds, flit like shadows
across his lawns, frequent his verandas,
and occassionally steal through the wide
open windows into his carpeted room,
A black nurse lies sleeping on the floor,
i her white charge fast asleep in her arms,
! * Le wolf listens, lies stealthily down be
side tho sleeping pair, and pauses. Pres
cn ^y the hungry brute bends his furred
Lead forward “and with his warm thick
tongue licks the baby out of its nurse's
arms.’ 'lhe unconscious woman feels
the gentle warmth, and begins to relax
j her stil1 grasp. sound In asleep, a minute falls or gently two the to baby, the
j ground. Aerce glpain There of the is savage a sudden and snap, the a
| d close eyes
cru( teeth upon baby s throat. A
| feeb!e CI 7 is heard, and the nurse springs
u _s the swift pads rustle across the mat
and her own foot slips in the blood
by her side. Such stories are well cal
culated to make us rejoice that wolves,
once very numerous in these islands, were
extirpated in England by Edward I., in
L28D. In Ireland their destruction was
not finally accomplished until four cen
tunes later. — Cork Examiner.
! Desperate Fight AVith a Caged Bear
; ' Pez0 the wild-beast tamer, was. says
| a ParD correspondent, ,' near being killed
receatl b a )lack bear . The meaagerie
| was at Chalous-sur-Marne, and he had
! just entered the bear’s cage to put it
I through its usual exercise, when the ani
ma i pu Ued him down on the floor. The
spectators / were seized with nanic. Some
t ed out of the menagerie and others
j 1 fered scrcamod the . but Pczon - s his " son father, at oncc en .
X cage to rescue wltbout though
1G >* 0Un S ™ an '' as aQ v weapou.
.
w hich had but little or no effect, and Sf’ he
wouh\ probably, have failed to save hi.
; father and perhaps have himself fallen a
victim to the bear if a soldier, who was
one of the spectators, had not drawn his
saber and handed it to young Pezon
fhrough the bars of the cage. AVith this
he stabbed the bear. At the first thrust
the infuriated animal left the elder
Pezon, and, standing on its hind legs,
tried to hug the son. 1 he latter, how
ever plunged his weapon several times
m the bear’s stomach. lhe animal xvas
not then, however, killed, and continued
pursuing his adversary. In the mean
while the young man's father had got up
and left the cage. The contest was at
length put an end to by one of the men
employed at the menagerie fetchiue a
* gun loaded with big shot. Firing in the
| bear's face, both its eyes were blinded,
and young Pezon was able to make his
escape out of the cage. His father was
not dangerously injured, though two of
his ribs were broken.
Estr ' lordimrv ft’tl i-o b
The most ex tr..ordinary British ex
ample* of longevity are th^se of Thomas
Parr, who died ii 10*35, at the acre
152; Henry Jenkins, of Yorkshire,
! died in 16 TO, aged 169: Mr. Fairbrother,
who died at AY'igan, May. 1T7(>, aged
133; James Sheilie, an Irish farmer, who
died in June. 1759. aged 135; and
Martha Hannah, of Cu ybackey. Ire
land, Avho died in 1-0-', aged 124.
But threat Britain a d Ireland are not
the only countries that breed rente
narians. In 180‘, Elizabeth Haywood,
a free negro, died in Jamaica, aged 130:
in 1742. da a Portuguese gentleman, died, aged Joa
Homem Cunha Dcca. 12 *:
and in ITs O a Portuguese lady, Joanna
Francisca de Pie lade, was stiff 1 ving
at the age of 120. — Cats Ids Journal.
■
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS SKFVCHKS FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
Pleasures of Travel —A "World. of,"
31 isery—Jones is Married —
At the Party—Active aiul
Passive, Etc., Etc.
How sweet it is in foreign ’ ands
To meet a frien i who km ws you.
Who rushes up with outstre tehed hands,
And almost overthrows 3 ou.
But oh, how sad. when that same friend,
(Those joyous greetings tl xill you,
Exclaims, as you both hands', extend,
“ Lend me ten dollars, will you?”
— Joiu-nctl of Education.
j A World of 3Iisei y.
! Tramp (to fussy old gentleman)—
“Will you please give me ten eeuts, sir;
"
I'm starving?”
Fussy Old Gentleman (producing a
bill)—“Dear me, starving! Can you
change a dollar?”
Tramp—“Yes, sir.”
Fussv Old Gentleman (pocketing the
change)—“Dear, dear, starving! Bless
me, but this world is full of
Epoch.
Jones is 3Iarried.
“Jones is a very brave man,” remarked
ane traveling man to another. “He dis
■.inguished himself in the war.”
“i'es. I know of only one thing that
ho is afraid to do.”
“What is that?”
“Ring , „ his door . . be ,, 1 at , three ,,
own
o clock m the morning. Merchant j
1 raveler.
At the Party.
Admiring Mamma (pointing to her
daughter)—“Don’t you think that Nan¬
nie looks so much better in that dress,
Mrs. Greene, than in any jshe has ever
had?”
Mrs. Greene (with emphasis)—“AVhy,
my dear Mrs. Scott, I don't think any¬
thing could improve Nannie’s appear¬
ance.”
It was meant as a compliment, but the
fond mamma took it otherwise, and now
they don’t speak/’ Harper's. Bazar.
~
Both Active . and Passive. ,
Pretty School Teacher—“James, is ‘to
kiss’ an active or passive verb?”
James (oldest boy in the class)—
“Both. ’
Pretty School Teacher—“How is that,
James?”
James—“Active on the part of the
feller and passive on the part of the girl.”
Pretty school teacher blushes and
marks Janies “perfect” in grammar.—
Washington Critic.
Tlie Longed-For Letter.
As the last note of that touching little
ballad, “The letter that he longed for
never came,” vibrated on the evening
a’r, she turned to find a tear trickling
down his cheek.
“Ah, Mr. Sampson,” she said, sympa¬
thetically, “you, too, have ‘longed 1 ’ ”
“Yes,” he replied, huskily, “two
years ago a very dear friend of mine went
West on twenty-five dollars which I
loaned him, and for aught I know he may
be dead.— Epoch.
He Got Left.
“Coalfor sail,” read the sign over a
door on the wharf.
“You spelled that wrong, old man,”
said a passer-by to the W pro-orietor. l “It
should be ‘ s-a-l-e,’ j .<s. ( >f ‘ s-a-i-1.’ ”
& ( That’s Avheve y ■ *t, my friend.
My customers are a. ’owners, and
they buy coal to s-a-i-1, use o._ uipboard, so of
course it's for ain't it? I’d have
made it ‘for sailing vessels,’ but the
board Avasn’t long enough .”—Dansville
Breeze.
Generosity.
Generosity of a man w T ho Avas ap¬
proached and asked to subscribe to a
charitable object:
“ AY’hat do you Avant? ” he inquired of
the man avIio held the subscription
book.
“ One dollar ”
“ And what for? ”
“To bury fished a policeman.”
Tlie man out a five-dollar bill
and handed it to the man.
“Bury five, ”he said.— Chicago Tribune.
A Hint to Inventors.
First Yankee—“AY'hat puts you in
such a good humor this morning?”
Second Yankee—“IVe just got my
patent for my new ink eraser. I wouldn’t
take $50,000 for it.”
“Did you get a patent last year for in
venting an indellible ink>”
“I did, and I sold it for $30,000, W and
now I’ve invented an eraser wiii
even remove writing done with my OAvn
indellible ink.”
“AY'hat are you going at next?”
“I'm going to invent another indelli¬
ble ink that can’t be erased with my new
eraser. I tell you, there is money in
this patent business if you go at it ”
— Siftings.
In the Family Circle
M r Okhnortte (facetiously
^ dear vou comn'ain that I do not rend
"
as T onee did Now here’s a
choice item for vour edification: ‘When
f ou | flj es are squarely shill muffed, ehirged the fielder
•»»*• * *>.e be rvi.h
an error.’ There, can vour feminine U ®
min d-rasp that?”
Mrs O-“Certainly, sweetthin-’L my love Now !!
i e t me read voua
pap \J er: ‘1st row—Slip the first then bv oj
ns purl 3 stitc hes and knit 2
low —Slip the first, then * knit 2 nut the
wool over, slip 1; repeat from *; finish
by £ knittin- ” E 3d row—Slip the first
t en bv t rns pU rl two stitches and
knit ped° to-ether the next put over and the
s ii p stitch that follows it.’ There
can vour thaf?”— mi-hty masculine mind en*
com ,} pass ' East End (Ca 7 ) Bui 1
7 eti J
_
Juniper vs. Tlllywa
Maw. shouted n a ^.t T Louis wharf-rat ,
nine summers, bounding eagerly into
his mother s presence. “Say, maw,
,! u 1 P cr 1S scrub bed her floor,an’ is called
a , her young an^is washin’all
“ uns m
a ? ll ?. e ir fa c cs ;’
S e 1S Ley, , said . , Mrs. Tillywag.
“ >
..,„ you go unj tell yer brothers »u
sisters to come right of in here, while I get
I a ra ? an a pan w.ater. I’ll let Mis’
I j Jumper know I km put on style well as
she. Lin. who I’ll let ain t. ’er know 111 not who's only had
raisin an wash
my young uns'faces, but I'll comb their
heads, too; an’ then Ill wash my win
dows. Oh, there s snow m the cellar
when a Juniper gits ahead of a Tillywag
on style an'manners. — TtdBits.
Holains Something -;— in Reserve.
The road from Mrs. Blank’s s mmer
J cottage (on Cape Cod) to the nearest
station lay over a succession of sandy
hills and yet more sandy hollows, and as
the horse with which journeys to and
fro were made was a native of the Cape,
and prenatally disposed to sloth, there
! was often much uncertainty about the
i length of time required for the journe}'.
r trmc occasion Mrs. Blank was very
a ixious to catch a certain train, and as
ivat event seemed from the leisurely
gait of the horse extremely uncertain.she
"nrged Mr. ( a<seboom to make the l>east
go faster. The coachman plied whip and
feins with no apparent etfcct, while tlie
lady alternately examined her watch and
encouraged her the driver. At- last, however,
haustcd.and patience became completely ex
hide of the stal'd espying brute a place where in the'tough
the bar
ness had chafed, she cried out ve
hementlv •
“Hit him oYiloJ'w' on the raw Mr -
Ili.him ’ '
-
“Ma’am” resnonded Mr piKtrlmnn,
with unmoved gravity, -fm a savin'
the Courier. raw till we come to’the hill—.flUtau
1
"Wanted a Thumper,
» f ,* , , MKl ,
iV*® 011 y \. ears 0 ' sto Pl
.. f lc Mour
r -? J > 00 P ou ? e avenue tc
K wa v to a gymnasium, and ht
*
y a,k , lf . be was S oin to takt
lessmi , . =
1 ,oxln S
,.x- _ hc< “hut 1
want tT re P b
> ul,J ' |K r „
; -
tr,. iftcr^lant-; p . Ct '»i t0 ! . ^ F ' CC>
and n ie os . aolishment over
h said the ”
c to proprietor:
“ I live out here about fourteen miles.
1 ve got a hired man who has got so sassy
that 1 can hardly live with Irm. lie’s
got coo big to lick with a gad, and I've
g r >t to cuff him up to a peak. I want to
take a lesson with tlie gloves, and when
I go home I’ll astonish John Henry with
a bit of science.”
One of tlie boxers about dollar! the place said
he’d give a lesson for a and the
old man peeled down to his undersliji t
am ] p U (; on Hie gloves. He was shown
how to pose and how to hold his guard,
and then warned to look out for himself.
“You play you are John Henry, the
hired man,” he said.
“AH right.”
‘ You’ve been fooling your time away,
and I’ve called you a lazy coyote.”
“Exactly.”
“You have sassed me back, and I go
for you like this—and this!”
And the old man struck right and left
and followed the boxer around the ring,
He was doing noble work when some
chin, thing shot over his guard and hit liis
and he went over like a log and
laid there until they threw water on him.
Then he sat up, looked about in a dazed
way, and feebly inquired:
“What was it?”
John Henry hit you.”
“He did, eh? Then that settles it!
Here’s your dollar, young man, and
here’s the gloves. If I'm liable to get
such a lick as that Pm going home to
tell the hired man he can boss the whole
ranch and be hanged to him!”— Free
Press.
Emin Pasha and Stanley in Africa.
Just now the world is interested in ef¬
forts made for the relief of the learned
and brave Dr. Emin Pasha, wlio has been
for seme years in the heart of Africa
superintending he the province over which
was given direction by the Egyptian
government. Letters have been received
from Dr. Emin at AVadelai, showing
that he is still holding his own and that
he has done much for the development
of the province and for the suppression
of tlie slave trade. AY’adelai is about one
thousand mile 3 south of Khartoum, be¬
tween Gondokoro and the Albert Ny
anza. He speaks of liis great confidence
in the trustworthiness and ability of the
natives, and says that his experience has
taught him “that the black race is
second to none in capacity and excels
many others in unselfishness,” and asks
for succor; not for an armed force, but
for supplies, including ammunition, for
his own forces. The proceedings of the
Royal Geographical Society give a brief
sketch of Emin Pasha, whose true name
is Eduard Schneitzer, born March 28,
1840, in Russian Silesia. After gradu¬
ating the in medicine hc became attached to
household of Ismail Fasha, and visited
Trebizond, Ezroom and Constantinople.
In 1885 he started for Egypt as surgeon
in the army. Attracting the attention of
General Gordon, he was made governor
of the equatorial province, and his subse¬
quent history is now well known.
dition Mr. H. for M. the Stanley is leading Emin an expe¬
relief of Pasha. It
consists of about seven hundred men
provided with ample supplies. Starting
from Zanzibar, it moved by steamers to
and up the Congo, and thence by land
from the Aruwhimi to AA'adelai. Mr.
Stanley has probably, by this date, ful¬
filled the leading object of his mission,
as he was expected to be at AVadelai by
the middle of October. Almost the next
n0ff * we rCCeive should apprise us of this
“ ost ha IW consummation. The Egyp
^ Q f 0Ver ° m ® nt haS contr i b " ted * 5 Jr
ciety has given $5,000 with the expec-"
tation that when the immediate object of
the undertaking shall have been accom¬
plished, Mr. Stanley will spend some
time in explorations. — Commercial Ad¬
vertiser.
Where the Poor of Paris Are Fed.
The noblest and most beneficent of
Parisian charities, the “Mouthful of
Bread,” has received a new extension. A
vast hall has been erected in the Mont
martre quarter, and there every poor
creature that makes bread application receives
• large piece of aed a bowl of hot
coffee. The applicants are asked no
questions and need present no tickets., title*
That they are hungy is a sufficient
to relief.
After eating, each person is required
to wash out his or her bowl at a sink
"here water is kept perpetually running.
They are admitted by squads of fifty at a
time, which is as many as can be conven¬
iently accommodated and served at
once - A register is kept where any one
may inscribe his or her address, with an
account of whatever maybe wanted in
the wav of clothes. The managers of
ments investigated, and if the applica
Hon is found worthy of recognition, they
generally find means to satisfy the want
f rom the stock of cast off clothin-sent
them bv the charitable,
Verv piteous sometimes are the cases
that come under their notice. The other
dav a man seeminglv well dressed and
wearing a foulard tied around liis neck
ovcr Ri „’,^ s c : ose lv ^ buttoned raTi breadUnd coat nresen ciot f ed
c e 0 „ of
“"\f One of the directors took him aside.
Xt7he v friend *’ he nersonfn said o-ently “vou ha\'e
n ' abof charitvfs^intended a need ofsnob soLlv ro
Pcf Our for
L. starvinu/.*’ °his *For answer the man
t v bark coat Under it the-p*
was neither waistcoat nor flannel, only a
tb - cadco s Hi r t fastened with a nin
cr P a teacher of the French lan<nia<rp
of work ° =
out
Sometimes neonle faint for want ol
food before they can be served. For as
a rule, the French poor are verv proud,
and they will put off theevildavofao
plvin" for < haritv in any form as effort” Ion «■ as
they iwssiblv can. Organized to” _ are
now bein'* The made obtain sufficient
funds for onenino-of on« of these
If noblv beneficent ParisianLrondiiSSfuta establishments in each
the
d lphia Telegraph.
[
!
CELEBRATION OF TIIE M AUDI
, GRAS IN HAVANA.
j
The City Practically Surrendered
to 31 erry makers—Brilliant and
Grotesque Costumes of the
Multitude of Maskers
__
Quaint, . , gav and , brilliant , at her , worst, ,
011 First Carnival Sunday nS»t Havana is un
*lo»Wcll.v one of the blended interesting
cities of the world. Her Moor
,S1 ' Saracen Doric architecture has
i ,altci ? ou added aucient seeming from
j and the single universal decoration—the red
yellow flags of Spain, in every con
cctvable form of festoon and drapery,dis
posed m every conceivable manner. By
daylight the narrow calles and great
pascos are swarmmg with the lower
classes. In those, their ccstumes, ways
and sunny faced delight one iias as true
a Morocco study of the mixed hordes of Spain, of
and of Africa as though Farce
lona and Morocco were put in stirring
panorama vision. together before one's
Until after the. “break¬
fast'’ at the crowded casinos and
cafes, along toward noon, there is
little else to be contemplated than uni¬
versal gins jollity, cheer and song. Then be¬
the gradual movement of the quar¬
ter million souls who exist in Havana,
and the thousands upon thousands from
every part of Cuba, toward the Louvre,
the Campo Mario, and the magnificent
laurel shade l Prado, which sweeps from
Campo the Mato to Parque de la Punta, by
ed sea. Obispo I p Sol, Ollieios, Teiute Key
streets come the dense
throngs of mestizos or mixed breeds ot
every sort from the dark corners of Regia,
F rom N etiado and the outlying villas
a ong le sea come great crowds ol
menymakers. Down terro and Jesudel
Monte ways and from the white ealzadas
that wind to the interior troop startling
masses ot people. While Horn out the
weird recesses of ( alio. Halluarte quarter
comes hordes of the densest, barbaric
and awful, with enough feticliism in a
score of them to plague a whole city,
But on this day all are equal. There is
the same license to all. And vast as the
throngs is invariably repeatedly become, the pressure
relieved without panics or
~
the police
The principal occupation of the people
in these carnival throngs is seeing and
being seen. Next in importance in at
tracting one’s attention are the vocifer
Otis feasting, chattering, drinking terrific gesticulation,
and singing, which
are continually in progress. The songs
of old Spain are often heard. But here
ind there rollicking Cuban ballads are
shouted and bellowed uproariously. A
singular fact about all these street carni¬
val songs is that one will never hear the
beginning or ending of any. Bars and
staves versal bubbling seem to gurgle through good tlie uni¬
over of feeling. A
hundred voices will seize upon them and
curiously follow them. But this is only
for a moment. Then here, or there, an
ather and another is begun, and these in
time drown out the former abruptly; or
some sudden criticism or sight has at¬
tracted the attention, and instantly
away go mind and merriment in a total¬
ly different direction. Impulse rules all
action.
•no,,.,.., By 3 0 clock 111 the afternoon ,, the ,,
maskers have taken possession of Hie
mtire city. T hese do not appear in im
posing processions. lens of thousands
>f groups of individuals, each simply
?l vmg expression to some isolated va
? ary, flit hither and thither like myriads
>f mystic spn-its of misrule. There is
act in ff all a single keen or witty thing.
lhe same antiquated idiotic thingsi are
Tone as have been done in the streets of
Madrid, Lisbon and Barcelona for more
streets, f iail f ’ with "ti ?i the <MrS ponderous ' 1 b au< \ d<A of ' n lOO,- j, ie
mrs
300 grave Don Quixotes, troop and tramp
the weird maskers as if m time with the j
r iymc of never-ending tune; and, as i
though as endlessly, thrice an hundred
thousand voices roar and yell with de
light. Ev ery soul m the city is upon the
si eets, in the myriads of balconies, or upon
the housetops. AVmc flows like water.
Every conceivable form ot melody tune
and sound clash and crash m pleasant
uproar. Under the porticos or swarm
ing upon the balconies ot the great
stnictures facing the 1 rado and Campo
J arc thousands °t foreigners. 1 eo
pie of every known nationality look upon
these bewildering scenes. Ten thousand
carriages, tilled including the public victorias.
are with the wealth and beauty of
Cu.ia., Fl »h olhemls disporting lavish
and iresign)a, nobility profusely decorated,
famous Generals blazing in laee and
gold; rich planters in white, m gorgeous
turnouts; noble caballeros on magnifi
cently accoutred steeds, an4 thousands
c arna ges crowded with the most
strikingly, foim , beautiful lines of women glint and in the flash world, and
moving
color, intercepting and separating the
masses afoot, until the changes of color,
the flutter of laces and fans, the flash of
jewels indescribable and gold brilliancy. blend and scintillate in
When night has come the city is one
tremendous blaze of light and blare of
sound. The aristocracy resort to the
splendid casinos where the most brilliant
balls of the world are given. Most of
these are en masque. AY hat would stand
for an American fortune is fre juently
lavished upon one woman’s costume.
The less rich, the middle and lower
classes, the very .cool:es, are provided
for. All Havana is a bundle of casinos,
or eentros. Every grade of human be- i
longs to some one of these eentros. At
these 50,000 merrymakers resort to
feast, sing and dance the whole night
long. A hundred thousand souls carouse
upon the streets until daylight. Globe
Democrat.
Navigating the Air.
Dr. Arthur Dcbausset, a Frenchman
by birth and President of the Transcon
tineutal Aerial Navigation Company, has
closed contracts with a Pittsburgh firm
for the steel to be used in the manufac
ture of mammoth air ships. Each of
these ships will be G54 feet long, 144
feet in diameter, cone-shaped, of steel,
and will cost $150,000 each. Dr. De
bausset stated that instead of gas a par
tial vacuum would be employed, making
the aerial plane lighter than plates if hydrogen
gas were used. Tlie steel of the
ship will be 1-44 of an inch thick. Sam
pie steel plates have been tested and
found to stand the great atmospheric
pressure. weight of the steel,” said Dr.
“The
Debausset, “will be 84 pounds to the
square yard. The This total does weight will be
260,000 pounds. The not include
the car and apparatus. weight of
air within would be 720.000 pounds, or
460,000 pounds greater than the weight
of the vessel.- AA'ith only one-half the
air exhausted from the chamber, tlie
weight removed would be
pounds, or 101,000 pounds in excess
the weight of the shell, giving therefore
an ascensional force of 50 tons. I intend
to let this monster loose in the firma
ment with a huge car attached to it, and
that car loaded with passengers, mail
and express matter .”—Xew York World,
* >
O
WORDS OF WISDOM.
! himself. T lie greatest fool of all is lie who fools
j lower Drop your bad habits and they cannot
j Every you.
utterance creates some kind of
an impression.
I hose who go for l orries should not
I retreat from briars.
j make Less argument better and more oil. work will
; any * person *
Good-will, , ... like good
actions and a lo-t by name, is got by
many one.
Genius beckons a man, and if he at
tempts to climb, will help him.
Error of opinion may be tolerated
when reason is left to combat it.
Kings will be tyrants from policy whoa
su bjocts are rebels from principle.’
How few arc those ayIio really under¬
stand what the mind is good for.
He who does not- engage in the quar
rels of others will ha\e lew of his own.
Many men claim to be firm in their
principles, when really they are only ob
statute in their prejudices,
Knowledge is made by oblivion, and
to purchase a clear and warrantable body
of truth, we must forget and part with
much we know.
A friendship that makes the least noise
is very often the most useful; for which
reason I should prefer a prudent friend
to a zealous one.
There are often rare abilities lost to
the world that are but ill bestowed on
those who do not know how to employ
them to advantage,
Learning maketh young men temper¬
ate, is the comfort of old age, standing
for wealth with poverty, and serving as
an ornament to riches.
The bee, though it find every rose has
a thorn, comes back loaded with honey
f rom ids rambles, and why should not
other tourists do the same?
^ moderate understanding , , diligent ....
and well-directed application will go
much farther than a more lively genius
a attention f en ?. ed W1 which b . that too ^patiencA often accompany and in
< I UICk I )ar s -
The nature and office of justice being
to d.spose the mind to a constant and
perpetual readiness to render to every
man his due, it is evident that if grati
tllde b e a J ,ar t of ■‘ u f ti c0 ’ \\ m " at be co ”
versant f about . something 1 . that is duo to
ano 1CI *
Living on Volcanic Isles.
Bonin Islands, discovered and settled
by tlie Japanese 250 years ago, and de¬
serted by them fifty years later, are situated
between the twenty-fifth and twenty
seventh degrees of north latitude, and
east longitude about 140 degrees 23
minutes. There are more than forty
islands, large and small. bt. John,
being tlie only one inhabitable, boasts
about fifty people of double nationality,
governed by no law except the precari¬
ous one of “every man for himself.
AVhile peace generally prevails, griev¬
in ances blood, are the not infrequently having wiped out
assassin nothing to
fear unless the victim has a friend to
avenge him.
This group is a volcanic formation,
and the scenery is wonderful. High
mountains whose heads disappear among
the clouds, deep valleys worn into fau
tastic shapes Vebruary, by the heavy rains of Janu
J and perpendicular bluffs
an (1 Ievcl Jocky lai smooth gravel beaches
and bold picturesque, shores, form a contrast so
wild and l 1 ’ so terribly J en
chanti th at one ects sorac t
and instantaneous change, some wonder
f(d phenomerion a falling of these fright
ful p recipi c C s, a rising of the fruitful
* s , a g % ran d mingUngof the whoie, for
0ll Ciinn t throw off the idea that the
laws of gravit at ion are at fault, and that
a crash springs may be of expected at any moment.,
Puie </ crystal water far up
amon a the cliffs send down leaping
brook s and Hvulets, which, running
mountains, through some scattered volcanic rupture in the
are in finest spray,
but gathering again, ripple on their
r0 cky course, seeming to smile as they
gbde f m0 watering re smoothly the among the cabbage
ree3j loholla, mulberry and
banana spreading over the pebbly beach,
and ming u ng with the waters of the har
bor And such a harbor, landlocked
with perfect “holding ground” from ten
to thirty fathoms below the surface. A
hundred ships would “swing clear” with
their “right bower” a cable’s length
Q i lf>Qf i
Green turtle are taken by thousands,
and f orm (he principal flesh food,
although wild hogs are found among the
hills in large droves, and dee-are plenty,
Twenty kinds of fish are caught along
the reefs and shores. Onions are raised
j n j arge quantities, sweet potatoes and
y ams arc cultivated to some extent, all
w hich are exchanged witli passing
vessels for Spanish dollars, and the rlol
birs hoarded, for what ?—Kenneljec (Me.)
j ourna i
Life's Brightest Hour. "V
long since I met a gentleman who
assessed for more than a million.
Bilver W as in his hair, care upon his
brow> and he stooped beneath his burden
ot wealth. life AVe when were speaking realized of that
pcr i 0 d of wc had the
most perfect enjoyment, or, rather, when
we had found the happiness nearest to
b eiug unalloyed. “I’ll tell you,” said
( be millionaire, “when was the happiest
hour of my life. At the age of one-and
twenty I had saved up $800. I was
ear ning $500 a year, and my father did
n0 (; ( ake jt f r0 m me, only requiring that
j should pay for my board. At the age
0 f twentv-two I had secured a pretty
cot tage just outside of the city. I was
ab i e ( 0 pay two-thirds of the value down
and also to furnish it respectably. I was
married on Sunday—a Sunday in June—
at my father’s house. My wife had come
to me poor in purse, but rich in the
wealth of her womanhood. The Sabbath
and the Sabbath night we passed beneath
ray father’s roof, and on Monday morn
ing I went to my work, leaving my
mother and sister to help in preparing
my home. On Monday evening when
the labors of the day were done, I went
not to the paternal shelter,as in the past,
but to holy my atmosphere own house—my own home,
The of that hour seems
to surround me even now in the memory,
I opened the door of my cottage and
entered, I laid my hat upon the little
stand in the hall, and passed on to the
kitchen—our kitchen and dining-room
were all one then. I pushed open the
kitchen door and was—in heaven! The
table was Set against the wall—the even
ing meal was ready—prepared by the
hands of her who had come to be mv
helpmeet in deed as well as in name; and
by the table, with a throbbing, expectant
look upon her lovely and loving face,
stood my wife. I tried to speak, and
could not. I could only clasp the. wait
ing angel to my bosom, thus showing to
her the ecstatic burden of my heart,
The years have passed—long, long years
—and worldly wealth has flowed in upon
me, and I am honored and envied; but
—as true as heaven—I would give it all
—every dollar for the joy of the hour
of that June evening in the long, long
ago !”—.New York Commercial Advertiser.