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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
rather 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 cuisine
of Sweden: “The habit of lunchingin
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-pic while dinner is on the very
table, still prevails, and is hardly condu
cive to health. It is said that the habit
of taking ‘a sup,’ as the Swedes call it,
arose from the scarcity of delicacies. It
was hard to get enough of any one nice
thing to make a meal of, so you were
first delicately innuendoed off to the
brandy table (as it is called), and then
allowed to sit down to dinner. The prac
tice is universal in Sweden. Private
houses, hotels, and boarding houses all
feed you on preliminary scraps, and woe
be to you if you innocently turn away
from the proffered luncheon! You fare
like an ascetic and feed yourself on
odors. The ordinary routine of dining
seems in Sweden to be in wild confusion.
Soup sometimes ends instead of begin
ning the dinner. Iced soups and cold
fish are dainties to the Scandinavian pal
ate. Much of the soup ’8 nauseously
sweet, flavored with cherries, raspberries,
and gooseberries, often with macaroon
cakes and spikes of cinnamon floating
wildly about in it. This is eaten as a
sort of dessert, and is cold and often
beautifully clear. If Heine bitterly
reviled the English for bringing vege
tables on the table au naturcl, there is
no such complaint to be made here.
Heaven, earth, and Satan’s dominion are
eaten with 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
strange dishes of berry juice boiled down
and mixed with farina, sugar, and al
monds, then cooled, molded, and turned
out into basins of cream, to be eaten
with crushed sugar and wine, appear at
the end of dinner. The Swedes share
with the Danes and Arabs a passionate
fondness for sweetmeats. Everything is
slightly sweet; even green peas are
sugared, as well as the innumerable tea
and coffee cakes, so that long before the
unhappy tourist has finished his tour he
is 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 lish are endowed with a heap
of savey is shown by the following;
Yesterday afternoon a number of repre
sentatives from the fish markets of this
city, embarked on the steamer, “Calliope”
to see the launch of the “Multnomah.”
They were standing in a row along the
rail when a philosophical looking old
sturgeon leaped out of the river on the
guard of the boat, as if to get a better
view of the launch. Happening to look
up he saw a row of fish dealers with
their eyes fixed upon him, evidently cal
culating how much he would weigh
when made into sea bass. With a fright
ened snort the astute fish leaped back
into his native element, went down, and
a minute later came to the surface half
a mile off, looking back to see if he was
pursued. Seeing the fishermen still
standing in a row and looking disconso
late. he put his tail to the end of his
nose and gently waved it, like a long,
bony hand, at them, and then went be
low to resume his regular business of
catching suckers. — Portland Oregonian.
Heard Through th? Earth.
Reports collected since the memorable
eruption of Krakatoa, in August, 1883,
have shown that the explosions were
heard over a circle of thirty degrees radi
us. 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 of 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
uted to any neighboring volcanic dis
turbance, and Dr. Fore'is forced to infer
that they may have been propogated
through the entire diameter of the earth-
Natures Transformation.
A tadpole, the larva of a frog, has a
tail and n<> legs, gills instead of lungs, a
heart precisely like that of a fish, a
horny beak for eating vegetable food,
and a spiral intestine to digest it. With
the approach of maturity the hind legs
appe.v, then the front pair: the beak
. falls off ; the tai! and gill- waste away •
L the lungs are created- the digestive ap
• paratus is changed t s. ■ the -roimal
diet; the heart become- reptilian in
type by the addition of another auricle;
in fact, skin, muscles, nerves and blood-
1 vessels vanish, being absorbed atom by
atom, and a new set is substituted.
©alette.
VOL. XII.
NASTV WEATHER.
On a day like this, when the streets are wet,
When the skies are gray and the rain is
falling,
Tow can you binder an old regret
For a joy long dead, and a hope long set,
From rising out of its grave and calling—
Calling to you, with a voice so shrill,
That it scares the reason and stuns the will’
On a day like this, when the sun is hid,
And you and .your heart are housed to
gather,
11 memories come to you all unbid.
And something suddenly wets your lid,
Like a gust of the outdoor weather,
IV hy, who is in fault, but the dim old day,
Too 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,
I omes 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.
BY LI KE SHARP.
I don’t know that 1 should tell this
story.
When the purser told it to me I know
it was his intention to write it out for a
magazine. In fact he had written it,
and I understand that a noted American
magazine had offered to publish it, bu
1 have watched that magazine for over
three years and 1 have not yet seen the
purser's story in it. lam sorry that I
did not write the story at the time, then
perhaps I should have caught the ex
quisite peculiarities of the purser’s way
of tellingit. I find myself gradually for
getting the story and I write it now for
fear I shall forget it, and then be har
rassed all through after life by the re
membrance of the forgetting.
Perhaps after you read this story you
will say there is nothing in it after all.
Well, that will be my fault, then, and I
can only regret, that I did not write down
the story when it was told to me, for as
Isatin the purser’s room that day if
seemed to me that I had never heard any
thing more graphic.
The purser's room was well forward on
the Atlantic teamship. From one. of the
little red curtained windows you could
look down to where the steerage passen
gers were gathered on the deck. When
the bow of the great vessel dove down
into the big Atlantic waves, the smother
of foam that shot upward would be borne
along with the wind and spat ter like rain
against the purser’s window. Something
about this intermittent patter on the
pane reminded the purser of the story
and so he told it to me:
There w ere a great many steerage pas
sengers getting on at Queenstown, he
said, and as you saw when we were there
it is quite a burry getting them aboard.
Two officers stand at each side of the
gangway and take up the tickets as the
people crowd forward. They generally
have theif tickets in their hands and
there Is no trouble. I stood there and
watched them coming on. Suddenly
there was a fuss and a jam.
"What is it?” I asked the officer.
“Two girls, sir, say they have lost
their tickets.”
I took the girls aside and the stream
of humanity poured in. One was about
14 and the other, perhaps, 8 years old.
The little one had a firm grip of the
elder’s hand and she was crying. The
larger girl looked me straight in the eye
as I questioned her.
“Where’s your tickets?”
“We lost thim, sur.”
“Where?’'
“I dunno, sur.”
“Do you think you have them about
you or in your luggage?”
“We've no luggage, sur.”
“Is this your sister?"
“She is, sur.”
“Are your parents abroad?”
“They are not, sur. '
“Are you all alone?”
“We are, sur.”
“You can't go without your tickets.”
The younger one began to cry the more
and the elder answered:
“Mabbe we can foind them, sur.”
They were bright-looking, intelligent
children, and the larger girl gave me
such quick, straightforward answers, and
it seemed so impossible that children so
young should attempt to cross the ocean
without tickets that I concluded to let
them come, and resolved to get at the
truth on the way over.
Next day I told the deck steward to
bring the children to my room.
They came in just as I saw- them the
day before, the elder with a light grip on
the hand of the younger, whose eyes j
never caught sight of. She kept them
resolutely on the floor while the other
looked straight at me with her big, blue
eyes.
“Well, have you found your tickets.'’
“No. sur.”
“What is your name?”
“Bridget, sur."
“Bridget what.
“Bridget Mulligan, sur.
“Where did you live?”
“In Kildormey, sur."
“Where did you get your tickets?”
“From Mr. O’Grady, sur.”
Now I knew Kii-iormey as well as I
know this ship and I knew O’Grady wa f
our agent there. I wculd have given a
good deal at that moment for a few
words with him, But I knew* of no
SUMMERVILLE, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY EVENING. AUGUST 19,1885.
Mulligans there, although, of course,
there might be. I was born myself only a
few miles from Kildormey. Now, thinks
Ito myself, if these two children can
baffle 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 over
the ocean. I had often seen grown peo
ple try to cheat their way across, and I
may say none of them succeeded on mv
ships.
“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 donno, sur.”
“Where did you get the money to buy
your tickets?”
“The neighbors, sur, and Mr. O’Grady
helped, sur.”
“What neighbors? Name tlv"n.”
She unhesitatingly named a number,
many of whom I knew, and as that had
frequently been done before I saw no
I reason to doubt the girl’s word.
“Now,” I said, “I want to speak with
your sister. T oil 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 Irishman 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 strike
me. 1 had him locked up until he came
to his senses.
While I was in my room, after this
little excitement, Mrs. O'Donnell came
to and pleaded for her rascally husband.
I had noticed her before. She was a
poor, weak, broken-hearted woman
whom her husband made a slave of, and
1 have no doubt beat her when he had
the chance. She was evidently mortally
afraid of him, and a look from him
seemed enough to take the life out of
her.
“Well, Mrs. O’Donnell,” I said, “I’ll
let your husband go, but he will have to
keep a civil tongue in his head and keep
his hands off people. I’ve seen men
for less put in irons during a voyage
aud handed over to the authorities
when they landed. And now I want
you to do me a favor. There ate two
children on board without tickets. 1.
don't believe they ever had tickets, and
I want to find out. You’re a kind hearted
woman, Mrs. O’Donnell, and perhaps the
children will answer you."
I had the two called in, and they came
hand in hand as usual. Th elder looked
at me as if she couldn’t take her eyes oil
my face.
“Look nt this woman," I said to her;
“she wants to speak to you. Ask her
some questions about herself,” I whis
pered to Mrs. O’Donnell.
“Acushla,” said Mrs. O’Donnell with
'nfinite tenderness, taking the disengaged
hand of the elder girl. “Tell me, dar
lint, where yee are from.”
I suppose I had spoken rather harsh
ly to them before, although I had not
intended to do so, but however that may
i e at the first word of kindness from
the lips of their countrywoman both
girls broke down and cried as if their
hearts would break. The poor woman
drew them 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,
durlints, allure the gentlemiu’s not goin’
to be hard wid two poor childher going
to a strange country.”
Os course it would never do to admi
that the companj' could carry emigrants
free through any matter of sympathy,
and I must have appeared rather hard
hearted when I told Mrs. O’Donnell thae
I would have to take them back with in
to Cork. I sent the children away, and
then arranged with Mrs. O’Donnell to
see after them during the vayage, to
which she agreed if her husband would
let her.
I could get nothing from the girl ex
cept that she had lost her ticket, and
when we sighted New Y ork I took them
to the steerage and asked the passengers
if any one would assume charge of the
children and pay their passage. No one
would do so.
■■Then,” 1 said, “these children wil
go back with me to Cork, and if I find
they never bought tickets they will have
to go to jail.”
There were groans and hisses at that,
and I gave the children in charge of the
cabin stewardess with orders to see that
they did not leave the ship. I was at
last convinced that they had no friends
among the steerage passengers. I in
tended to take them ashore myself be
fore we sailed, and I knew of good hands
in New York who would see to the little
waifs, although I did not propose that
any of the emigrants should know that
an old bachelor purser was fool enough
to pay for the passage of a couple of un
known Irish children.
We landed our cabin passengers and
the tender came alongside to take the
Peerage passengers to Castle Garden. I
got the stewardess to bring out the
children, and the two stood and watched ■
everyone get aboard the tender.
Just as the tender moved away there j
was a wild shriek among the crowded j
passengers, and'Mrs. O’Donnell flung her
arms above her head and cried in the I
most heart-rending tone I ever heard:
“Oh, my babies, my babies ’
“Rapequiet,” hissed O’Donnell.grasp- i
ing her by the arm. The terrible ten ■
days attain had given way at last, and I
the poor woman sank in a heap at his ‘
feet.
“ Bring back that boat,” I shouted- j
and the tender came back.
“Come aboard here, O’Donnell.”
“I’ll notl” he yelled, shaking his fist j
at me.
“Bring that man aboard.”
They soon brought him back and I j
gave his wife over to the care of the I
stewardess. She speedily rallied, and j
hugged and kissed her children as if she j
would never part with them.
“So, O’Donnell, these are your chil. j
dren?”
“Yis, they are; an’ I’d have ye know* ■
I’m in a frae country, bedad, and I dare I
' ye to ’ay a finger on me.”
“Don’t, dare too much,” I said, “or I’P I
show you what can be done in a free !
country. Now if I let the children go j
will you send their passage money to the |
company when you get it?”
“I will,” he answered, althoughl know
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.”
Os course I 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) j
to hear a discourse from Bev. William j
1 Henry Channing. It was Sunday morn
ing, and the topic announced was one in .
which ho felt a special interest. Mr.
■ Channing was then, in fact, ministering
1 to a congregation of which Mr. Greeley
was a prominent member. It was in a \
hull on the west side of Broadway, above j
Canal street, where Dr. Dewey had I
preached aforetime. On the way thither i
Mr. Greeley begged mo to keep him
awake. We occupied a settee within I
1 six feet of the platform, and right under !
1 the eye of the preacher. I tried to keep i
' him awake by frequent tuggings at. his
elbow and playing a by no means soft
tattoo upon his ribs. But it was of no use.
- lie was “nid nodding” through the whole
discourse, not a little to Mr. Channing’s j
annoyance, who observed my unsuccessful j
efforts to keep his great auditor awake. |
But now comes the wonderful part of my j
story. Mr. Greeley and I, when the I
service was over, went back to the Trib ■
unr, office together. He sat down to hi ,
desk at once, and made an abstract o
Mr. Channing’s discourse, filling some I
what less than a column, which appeared i
in the Tribune next morning. Mr. Chnn- |
ning was utterly amazed when he saw it, I
and afterward asked me if it was possi- j
bio Mr. Greeley had made the report j
When I told him that 1 saw him whil
he was preparing it, and could certify
thnf it went to Ihe compositor in his own
handwriting, and that, moreover, 1 had
myself read the proof, he expressed tha
greatest astonishment. “Why,” said he,
•‘I could not myself have made so accu- .
rate an abstract of my discourse, which, j
though premeditated, was extemporane
i ous. He has not only given the sub-
• siance of what I said : he has followed
i my line of thought, and remembered not
; a little of my language.” Ido not pre
tend to offer any explanation of this
i strange mental test. But lam absolute <
, y certain of the facts as I have related I
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.
i
A Spanish Vendetta.
The Madrid correspondent of the
Petit Marseillais relates a striking in
stance of the intensity of family quarrels
! in Spain. About a year ago a gypsy
named Morabs was assassinated at Zerza,
in the province of Caceres, by one of
I his comrades named Silra. The latter
was in due course tried and condemned
to death, but his execution did not sat
isfy the vengence of the victim’s family.
1 There had been ill feeling between the
1 families for three years, but there had
> been no open quarrel until the murder of
’ Moralis. Soon after the execution of
5 the murderer, which took place last
month, the two families met on their re
turn from a fair near the town of Caceres.
1 They had their mules and cattle with
! them. There were about fifty on each
side, including women and children. A
• regular pitched battle ensued, revolvers,
’ knives and sticks being freely used by
- the men, while the women employed
- their nails with considerable effect, and
» the children threw stones indiscrimi
nately. 'rhe resu't of the struggle was
that the heads of the two families were
i killed, two of the women, and several of
: the children. There were ten or twelve
t wounded, and the dead were horribly
t mutilated. If the mounted police had not
i interrupted the fight, there would have
been many more lives lost. Several of
the mules were killed, and the baggage
I of the two families was strewn about in
j such disorder, ths'Hhe road for half a
I mile looked as if a larg army had beaten
j a retreat along it.
CATTLE RAISING. 1
An Immense Area t sell for Craving
—Foreign I.anil Owners.
The portion of the United States devo 1
■ ted to grazing, and known as the range
and cattle area, embraces 1,365,000 1
i square miles, or 44 per cent, of the total 1
I area of the United States exclusive of 1
Alaska. It is a surface equal to that of j
| Great Britain and Ireland, France, Ger- 1
many, Denmark, Holland, Belgium’
Austria, Hungary, Italy, Spain and For- .
tugal, and one-fifth of Russia in Europe <
- combined. (
Foreign as well as domestic companies
own cattle that graze on this immense
i territory, in Texas, where are the larg- .
; est ranches, the cattle exhibit marked
self-reliant traits of the wild animal
I being strong in the instinct of seeking
I food and water, and of self-protection I
i against the inclemency of the weather, j
j In the language of the herdsmen they
I are good “rustlers,” which means tha
they know how and where to find food
and water and have the alertness and
i spirit to seek them upon the vast plains ' r
and in valleys and mountain fastnesses t
' where they roam, and even beneath the | 1
I snows which in the winter at times, in I
I the more northerly regions, cover their , |
1 feeding grounds. ' ]
It is estimated that during the year j i
1884 about 300,000 cattle were driven ■ <
from Texas to northern ranges, to be there .
matured for marketing, and that about I i
625,000 beef cattle were shipped from I
Texas direct to the markets of Kansas , 1
city, St. Louis, Chicago and New Orleans. ' |
Already the range and ranch business i ;
of tlie Western and Northwestern States I ,
and Terrritories has assumed gigantic j
proportions. The total number of cat-
i tie in this area, east of the Rocky moun 1
I tains and north of New Mexico and I
Texas, is estimated at 7,500,000, and i
j their value at $187,500,000. j I
The average cost of raising a steer on j 1
the Hinges, not including interest on the <
capital invested, is usually estimated by \ t
j the large stock owners at from seventy. 1
I five cents to $1.25 a year. Thus a steer 1
four years old ready for market has cost <
the owner $4 or $5 to raise. When 1
j driven to the railroal lie is wortli from i
j $25 to $45. A recent estimate, approved I
i by a number of Wyoming ranchmen, ■ i
I places the profit at the end of the third
year on a herd consisting of two thou
sand cows with one thousand yearlings, ,
»nd thirty-live short-horn bulls, repre
senting in all, with ranch improvements
I aud horses, an investment of about
$70,000, at $40,000. ]
Recently the cattle owners have joined i
in a request to the government asking for :
i 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
I purpose of establishing the proposed
I trail begins at the southern border line
of Colorado, and extends to the northern ,
border line of the United States. It is
j proposed that it shall be of variable
; width, from two hundred feet at crossing i
places for “native cattle,” to six miles iq
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 690 miles in length, and
have an area of 2,070 square miles, or
1,324,800 acres.
They think this 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 i
ers of large means, and who indicate no
intention whatever of becoming citizens
of the United State*, have purchased
lands within the great range and
ranch cattie crea, 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
noblemen of countries in Europe. Some
of them have brought over from Europe,
in considerable numbers, herdsmen and
other employes who sustain to them the
dependent relationships which charac
terize the condition of the peasantry on
the large landed estates of Europe. The
public sentiment 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. Oates, of Alabama,pre
sented a report upon the subject to the
House of Representatives,from the com
mittee of public lands, accompanied by
a bill to prohibit aliens and foreigners
from acquiring title to or owning lands
within the United States.
The following lists, showing such
ownerships, were presented during a
discussion of the subject by members of
that body.
Purchaser. Acres.
English Syndicate No. I (in Texas) 4,oiX>,o!> I
Eng ish Syndicate No. 3 tin Texas) 3,<00,000
Sir Edward Reid, K. C. B. (in
Florida) 2,000,000
E:r-li-h Syndicate, headed by S.
niilpotts 1,800,000
C. It. and Laud Company of I»n-
don, Marquis of Tweedale 1,750,000
Phillips, Marshall & Co., of Lon-
don 1,300,000
German Syndicate 1,100,000
Angh.-Ameriean Syndicate, headed
by Mr. Rogers, London 750,003
An English Company <in Mississip-
pi) 700.003
Duke of Sutherland 425,0Q0
NO. 31.
British Land and Mortgage Com-
pany 320,000
Captain Whalley, M. P. for Peter-
boro’, Eng 310,000
Missouri Land Company, Edin-
burgh, Scotland 300,000
Hon. Robert Tennant, of London.. 230,000
Scotch Laud Company, Dundee,
Scotland 247,666
Lord Dunmore 100,000
Beniamin Nowgas, Liverpool, Eng-
land 100.000
Lord Houghton 60,000
Lord Dun raven 60 000
English Land Company (in Florida) 50,000
English Land Company, repre-
sented by B. Newg 50,000
An English capitalist (in Arkansas) 50,000
Albert Peel, M. P. Leicestershire,
England 10,000
Sir John Lester Kaye, Yorkshire,
England 5,000
George Grant, of London (in Kan-
sas) 100,000
An English syndicate (represented
by Close Bros.) in Wisconsin 110,000
A Scotch company (in California).. 140,000
M. Ellerhauser, (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-
inburgh, Scotland 165,000
English Syndicate (in Florida) 59,000
Total 20,541,666
Wall Street Brokers’ Lunches.
Between 1 and 2 o’clock in the ifter- I
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 i
are thronged. The remainder of the ;
day they are deserted. Wall street has |
been suffering from the large financial I
depression. Yet during it all the res- ;
taurateurshave thrived. Many of them ■
have grown rich in the business, and the I
prosperity of private individuals has im. ;
pelled the organization of heavily capit
alized stock companies to supply the
inner wants.
Wfiat on the bills of fare are desig
nated “Dishes ready,” are most called j
for. The patrons of the restaurantshave |
not time to wait for dishes to be pre
pared 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 i
lunch. Their appetites are satisfied at ;
their desks, where they can alternately I
cast their eye on their plates and on the I
tape. No restaurant could exist without |
a ticker, and whenever one sits down
for a mouthful the clatter of the instru
ment awaits his car.
Jay Gould says that he is careful not |
to spoil n good dinner by a good lunch j
earlier. Mr. Gould’s lunch is as light as :
lie can make it. It, is as a rule served to ■
him in the office of the Western I nion {
building, and consists of a small piece of I
bee!, lamb or chicken, followed by a
modest amount of fruit in season. Os
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 Cammack, the “Big Bear,” is
equally as abstemious as Mr. Gould. He ,
lunches when down town at Delmonico’s j
Broad street, or Beaver street place. :
His order is for something that is pre
pared—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 was
at Broadway and Liberty street he took j
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 Bage is a plain liver. His lunch i
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
the market make a hearty meal of their
lunch, and the note-worthy thing is the
fact that they do not call for desert. A
plate of soup, a piece of meat, or a piece
of fish, is all they require. The clerks
on the other hand show a liking for
sweets. They have more time and a
greater inclination to gratify their appe
tites than the operators. Not nearly the
amount of wino is drank in the “street” i
that is supposed to be. The men who |
risk their fortunes on the market have
to keep clear heads, and those who can
not are sure to lose them.
Messenger boys swarm Wall street, i
They have appetites as well as the mil
lionaires and big men of the market, and
as a rule are a great deal more voracious.
They seize sandwiches at stands in the
street as they fly by and swallow them
on the run. Those sandwiches would
produce dyspepsia in a granite dog, but
the messenger boys never feel an internal
jiang. All the stands and all the restau
rants sell milk, and the amount of it that
is drank in the street is surprising. Milk
and vichy is a common order. Vichy
from a siphon imparts zest to the milk.
Henry N. Smith, one of the bear leaders,
and an old partner of Mr. Gould’s>
drinks milk and vichy.— Neu> York Cook
In Cuba, two hours before a paper is
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 tiie public. One of the newspa
pers of Havana disregards the law. pub
lishes what it pleases, and when it gets
ready. Every few weeks the government
fines the editor and suppresses the paper.
I The next day the paper appears under a
I new name. Its frequent brushes with
the government advertise it. and people
1 buv it to see what new indiscreti n it
i has committed, 'the subscription price
> is $24 a year.
A Forest Hymn.
The glowing »un is riding high
Amid the arches ot the sky,
The dreamy air lies still,
No sound disturbs the leafy glade
Save that by busy woodbill made
Upon some ancient trunk, decayed—
Calm broods o’er vale and hilL
In such an hour I love to stray
From haunts of toiling men away,
’Mid forest depths profound;
There, in a bliss of solitude,
Where no dull cares of earth intrude,
And Nature breathes sweet quietudo-
The grand old trees around —
The heart by daily cares oppressed,
The wearied spirit findoth rest,
As, pillowed on the sod,
With nought above but leaf and sky,
And loving look of Heavenly Eye,
Perchance with angels hovering nigh,
I dream of Nature’s God.
—Edward JV. Richards in the Current.
HUMOROUS.
Night keys—Key notes of a cat. con
cert,
“We meet to part no more,” said the
bald-headed man to his hair brush.
A maid is a young lady who is
single and who will be won if she
marries.
There is many a dynamiter who is •
afraid to give his mother-in-law a
blowing up.
“How sleep the brave?” asks a poet.
This depends largely upon the number
of cats in the neighborhood.
Some one has been lecturing on “The
Danger of Eating Candy.” Cut this
; out and show it to your sweetheart.
The giraffe has never been known
to utter a sound. This is what makes
the giraffe so valuable. They come
high, but we must have them.
Paper plates are coming into fashion
in the East. The only way the hired
j girl can get even is to bounce the tin-
I ware around and break stove covers.
A trifling loss : "Yes,” he observed,
:“I was more than surprised. I lost
imy head.” “Ah,” she returned, with
I an aggravating look, “who told you ?”
“What brought you to prison, my.
colored friend ?” said a philanthropic
visitor to a New York prisoner. “Two
constables, sah.” “Yes ; but I mean
i had intemperance anything to do with
jit?” “Yes, sah; dey was bof of ’em
drunk.”
In Lapland, where the nights are
I from three to six months long, beaux
j often kiss their sweethearts “good
i night” about six weeks before day
j break. Their stock of caramels, pea
nuts and small talk becomes exhausted
■ by that time.
Kansas Sheep.
Sheep they were, indeed; thousands
jof them, objects of unfailing concerns
|to the gentlemen and delight to the
j ladies.
“What is that stone wall ?” asked,
i one afternoon, a lady sitting on the
: piazza with her opera-glass.
“That stone wall, madam, answered
a Harvard graduate, politely, “is the
sheep coming in to the corral.”
To see the sheep go in and out, night
and morning, was a never-failing
j amusement. Sometimes the ladies
wandered down to the corrals at sun
set to see the herds come in, and you
j would have supposed them to be
I waiting for a Fourth-of-July proces
sion with banners, from the eagerness
I with which they exclaimed, “Oh, here
j they come! there they are!” as the
first faint tinkling of the bells was
heard in the distance. If two herds
appeared at once from opposite direc
tions, the one with lambs had the
"right of way,” and Sly, the sheep-dog
—not the only commander who has
i controlled troops by sitting down in
i front of them—would hold the other
herd incheck till the lambs were safe
ly housed. The lambs born on the
prairie during the day frisked back at
night to the corral beside their mothers
a lamb four hours old being able to
walk a mile.
When shearing-time came, they
i went into tne sheds expecting to see
' the thick wool fall in locks beneath
■ the shears, like the golden curls of
their own darlings; great was the
. amazement to see the whole wooly
j fleece taken off much as if it had been
an overcoat, looking still, if it were
rolled up in a ball, like a veritabD
sheep, and often quite as large as th»
. shorn and diminished creature tha’
had once been part of it. One very
hot day they braved the heat them
selves for the sake of going out on the
prairie to see how sheep keep cool
Instead of scattering along the creek
( seeking singly the shade or the bushes
or the tall trees only to be found near
the creek, they huddle together in the
middle of the sunny field more close’j
than ever, hang their heads in the
shadow of each other’s bodies, and
remain motionless for hours Not a
single head is to be seen as you ap
, proach the herd; only a broad level
> field of wooly backs, supported by a
: ! small forest of little legs.— Harper’s
\ Magazine.
s
A Timely Reply.
’ “How are clocks to-day?” asked r
' dude as he stepped into a Superior
6 street jewelry store and smiled on the
° j clerk.
The clerk almost fainted under th .
s tlmle’s sickening grin, but had th*
t pi i sence of mind to say:
“Oh! they're all on a strike.”
u As would be said in a novel, Iler
i: hert de Quinsy (the dude) muttered
• curse between his zine stuffed molar;
e and disappeared athwart the glimmer
* ing gioorn.— Cleveland Plain Peeler.