Newspaper Page Text
(IxxxUvzinlU aNk Ikmtxitmx.
VOLUME IIJ.
TUE MULimGK TO WISE.
[Written for the AMEBIC*}!.]
■A lime there wui when hall of light
IT here catui: the “sound of n-telry by night,"
[ There merry m Ada and ardent hirer* gay, *
In lo?e and imiftlc whiled the hour* away,
i Aiu<-mr them vu a youth of courtly grace
I Of noble mind and frank, free, open face
I On w hich no evil thought* or purpose dark
I Had Irlt, it *et-m?, their guilt accusing mark—
A manly, c apable, well-meaning youth,
In path* <>f virtue, innocence and truth.
A fascinating creatur. by him stand*
V •**<• dang’rous charm uncousciously am
** mans;
But timidly he woos the damsel fair.
With conscious, trighteued and half-bashful
air:
He ht sil ctes, draws Intt-k, agidn, then ylrids.
He claspa h' r form and all Jove’s a-dor feels.
Bhe etudes and ’ncuth her gl iw and sparkliue
eye
HU seff-poesesslon and bis free will die:
[ in blissful tm taport he bus dared to sip
! The dewy sweetness of her ruty lip.
■ And wilb such all absorbing passion glows
I lie all love’s full intoxication knows,
[He feels, he kuows uaught else, he tan*# for
naught
Save this, the centre of his every thought,
I ThU crwuure-ldol he has learned to love
[ More than all else on eurth, or yet above.
! He wildly, blindly woos,and stray? where eVi
Her smile may choose to lead, and follow
her
: With willing steps and eager, loving haste,
\Bt it through gllti’riug scenes,or dea. rt waste,
jUr rugged pub. With bright, alluring smile
And i-w- e arid fl itt’ring promises the while
Bhe louts him to her court; where dazzling
shine
The gilt out splendor of earth’s rieln-st mine,
Where twinkling, gleaming lights amt music
sweet
M.ke to hi- raptured g.z<* a seene complete.
O’er pi-nals wide i scroll 1) s graven *ie*tn
Whose words ol welc me bi.l him enter in.
He emurs, and with trains of devotees
Enamored, to her feet imp ill all
Not e ir> s he longer 1 >r all -lse hi side
Hut love of her be woos to win a- bride.
Where i- the putpo* high— the l >fty aim
Helm hi vn-w in ti'e’-i "ligiit more? Whete
lame?
All go c! a> -te, bys rp he mre a d mr>
Yi* ld> and to un p .w'r In- throws tits -pii It e’er;
And In r sedit live eh rots at l*.-t are won
And It ** i- -holly her lit wooing done.
l b'- rile-, a e re uly to be said
Tin* lor all life toge her tin ui slmli wed.
■ She st-indtf in splendor r bed, witti t/lushieg
check-*,
With pro tit ted ettp in hand while low be
speak-
Kepeuing is he quaff- the potion red:
“With this lihaiiot. I thee truly wed,
Fo ever to be soWy, wholly bote
I pletlge th ein this lowing cup >f wine:
The solemn vow I take,
For thee I all forsake
Forever till death parts.
My parents, kindred, all,
(My honor, duty’s call
To nobler things) resign.
My truth, my virtue, health,
My social standing, wealth
1 give up for thy Fake.
Each comfort I possess,
My mind, my happiness
I heedless throw away. "
To thee I all have giv’n,
My freedom, hope of hoav'n,
, My life, my soul, my God;
And I am bound for life
To thee, my wedded wife
All these I give for thee.”
He turns to kiss tho sweet lips of his
bride
Who stood so eagor, gentle, by his side,
But starts aback in agony and fright—
An awful transformation meets his sight.
The creature he had thought so sweet and
fair
Changed to a bond now stands beside him
there.
The outstretched cap, her gory fingers
stain,
Is filled with blood of victims she has
slain;
And deadly serpents coil, and thrusting
out
Their poisononoua tongues, within it
writhe about.
It sparkles still, but each bright bubble
here
He sees, oh! horrid sight, a crystal tear!
The tears of suffering orphans, parents,
wives
Of thoso who by its poison lost their lives—
Those victims to whom, soothed securely,
sho
This lotus gave until to late to flee.
He ’neath the foam sees wrecks of fortunes
lie
And hears the groans of suicides that die.
With wondrous sight endowed, but pow-
erless
To break the spell, to shun the wretched
ness
From which no pow’r (thus fettered like a
slare)
Is able hi m to shield or him to save.
The demon temptress binds him in her
chains
While dart throughout his form fierce,
cruel pains.
lie secs the wreck that he of life has made,
110w r far from paths of right and duty
strayed;
And sees, but now, oh, God, too late, too
late!
The error of his way and awful fate.
He realizes (better were he dead!)
That he, for life, “Intemperance” has wed;
That with the first cup of red wine he
drank
He forged the galling chains that on him
clank;
And that ’twas placing firm the marriage
ring
Upon the finger of this demon thing.
He sees, too late, how cruelly deceived
He bv degrees has been, and how believed
In fal lee appearance and flattery,
And brought upon himself hia misery.
Ile knows the vows he made have dug the
grave
Of happiness, and made of him a slave.
Fain would he break the cruel tyrant’s
spell
Who makes hia life a doubly tort’rous
hell,
But o’er him her dominion’s so complete
He’s urged resistless downward at her
feet.
She in her chains a suff’ring captive binds,
And he her palace a dark prison finds,
Where grinning skulls and blood-dyed
hands the wall
Adore, and horrid deeds the sense appall.
No more the gorgeous place he entered in,
The seeming palace is a haunt of sin.
Her children, Murder, Lying, Terror,
Pain
And last’y Death close follow in her train.
Ah! would he had not yielded to her
wiles
And flown at first, the pow’r of her smiles!
He would not feel this agonizing thrall
Nor been induced from rectitude to fall;
But he Is lost, forever lost—his life
Was wholly wrecked when wine he took
to wife!
ner breath, more deadly than the upas
tree,
Breathes on him, and death is the penalty.
A moral wreck whom all the earth despise,
He closes his career of crime and dies,
He dies, but fills a nameless grave, dis
graced;
He dies, but death a second time will taste.
Hattie.
“Bonnie-Brook,” near Cassville, Ga.
“WHO 18 THU?”
[Written for the Amkklcan.]
From what quarter will the answer rise,
and what will the answer be? Nearly
nineteen centuries ago this question was
propounded by the astonished rulers of
the highly favored and exalted Jewish na
tion. The answer was returned to them
by the hosannas of a great multitude who
had been recently healed and redeemed,
(fulfilling an old prophecy, “Behold thy
kingcometh,”) and announcing the fact
that God has appeared on earth, bringing
peace and good will to men. And happi
ly for all the following ages of this world,
the sound of that exultant testimony has
never been forgotten. It will not die
away, because it rests upon heaven’s un
alterable decree. As time rolls on, it gath
ers volume and force, until now, distant
lands,far away from these holy mountains
and the isles of the seas, have heard this
grand old story, and returned their an
swer, that this is God.
There wa3 doubt, and dread, and mal
ice, and wild astonishment in the minds
of theso great men, as their unknown
Savior rode into the city of Jerusalem, be
cause this new comer was meek and low
ly, humble and poor, and a stranger,claim
ing mysteriously to them hia own divinity.
And how wonderful and unaccountable
it is that the omniscencc displayed at
Sychar, and the power shown upon the
sea of Qallilee, and in Gaddarath, and the
touching sympathy called forth to lift up
the bereaved, mixed with power over
death, at the tomb of Lazarus, did not send
conviction to the high and the low, as
wind-spread as the winds. This is strange
to us. But stranger and more mysterious
to them, was the fact, that there was no
doubt in the minds ofthat great multitude
who accompanied their Lord into Jerusa
lem, as to His divinity. Because these
rulers did not know, that as God, this grand
personage had manifested Himself within,
to His followers, to every heart, and had
put upon this work the stamp of His own
power and divinity, and had affixed there
to the seal of eternal truth, so that con
science said, “The great truth is that God
has come and sown in the heart the seeds
of eternal life. Hosanna! Hosanna in the
highest.” Since then, the same question
has been answered by millions, of the
wisest and best in all ages of the world,
saying: “This man of Nazareth is also a
God.” They have traveled the same road
of sacrifice and denial that He pointed out,
and at the end they have found the same
glorious reward that He had prepared and
told them about. They have declared on
personal honor and veracity, that the Di
vinity of Christ was manifested within to
them. They have gone down like a blaz
ing sun upon the open sea, reflecting back
the great glory of God, until now, their
names are almost as numerous as the
sands of the sea, and, like perfume, will
slowly fade away, only because the vast
number of the witnesses over-powers the
memory.
And millions more, standing in the focus
of this electric light of centuries, arc on
the stand testifying now, that Christ is
God; and these are all speaking from with
in, where conscience presides, and where
no mistakes were ever made. Shall all of
this evidence, based upon experience, ve
racity, character and the shining fruits of
a long life-time, of the millions- who are
now no more, be characterized as a delu
sion, arid accounted for as the result of
magnetism, enthusiasm or infatuation?
Shall the hope of the world be crushed at
this late day, because some men refuse to
believe, or to lay these things to heart? Let
these objectors everywhere remember, that
demonstration in this matter is open to
all. Eeverybody is invited to make the
solemn test for himself, so that the time
will never come, when common honesty,
sense or taste, can pronounce the mission
of Christ an imposition, until the condi
tion is performed which is annexed, and
the will of God is done, and there is a
failure. Trial is tho way to find out just
how true this divinity is. And then, if
good faith and honesty has prompted the
effort, all will be competent witnesses on
the the line of everything that is claim
ed, both for and against it.
Let it always be remembered that the
CARTERSVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JANUARY UK 1885.
great author of this sublime doctrine has
put the world on notice long ago by sub
stantially saying, that if any man will
do His will, he shall know the seemingly
hidden and mysterious truths of this
whole matter for himself.
The external evidence in the world is
all around us, abundant and very satis
factory, that there is a God, and that
Christ came as the Savior of men. But
turn within, to the citidel of being, and
the evidence becomes conclusive. A?
much so as when a man is in great bodily
pain, or standing, shriveled with age, with
failing pulse, on the banks of the cold
river, or is full of joy or anguish. If any
thing can be positively known, to the ex
clusion of every doubt, these are some of
the things. They allow no contradiction.
All testimony to such a man, as to the
truth of an opposite status with him would
be vain and foolish, for the very essence of
truth is fastened upon consciousness, and
every other condition or theory must bow
and retire. And so it will always bt*.
when the will of God is performed—every
idea opposing the great truth must suc
cumb. In the face of 9uch a fair proposi
tion to make an easy personal test; look
ing to the ascertainment ofthe truth of
Christ’s mission here, in the face of such
testimony as we have, coming from the
living and the dead, our own fathers and
mothers being in this cloud of witnesses—
how strangs, that it is necessary at this
age of the world, to repeat the old argu
ment, or to provoke criticism by an effort
to develop anew one, to establish the
great fact in the minds of men that there
is a God well pleased with the works of
righteousness and angry with the wicked,
and that Christ is the Savior of the world,
sent by Him.
Progress has been and will be written
upon the door lintels of every age of the
world, and while everything good moves
onward in obedience to Divine decree,
evil influences are progressive also, and to
meet these closing up the paths of unbe
lief, new views are being constantly born.
Hewn out or dropped down, to con
vince the judgment, and seal demonstra
tion as to the truth of both propositions.
But at last, the old argument is the
anchor, that the work done shall forever
stand as the highest possible proof of all
that is claimed. This always was entire
ly sufficient, where the mind is fair and
the conscience is free. Nothing ever was
necessary except to examine and invest 5 ,
gate the great work done, which never
took place in a corner, but in broad day
light, before the assembled multitudes, and
then if honesty is allowed fair play, con
viction begins to arise liken growing city
on a hill, and judgment bows under the
weight of argument as though a moun
tain had been cast into the scale. If we
were to leave the sacred record out of ar
guments, then why not allow human ev
idence to have the same weight and ef
fects in the establishment of the truth of
the doctrines of Christ, that we do when
applied to the ordinary affairs of life, this
would give His doctrine irresistible force
without more, so much so, that to deny
them would be the plainest stulifleation.
If is also true, that antagonistic views
theories and principles, moving undei
some law of progress and development
are at open war with the truth of provi
dential interference here, to promote, i
any way, the well being of humanity.
At id how it is, that a great code of mor
als, like that inaugurated by Christ prom
ising good to all men, and threatening
harm to none, can be intelligently op
posed, perhaps no one will ever be able
to answer, otherwise than by ascribi.
such opposition to diabolical influence.
It has always been truo, and perhaps
will so continue without a change, down
to the last great act of the drama, that
good and evil will be the great opposing
f. >rces in this world. History bears out
the idea that every good influence which
men have seized upon in aid iff the teach
ings of Christ, to support His cruise, and
to commend His justice aid mercy, have
been met by men, moved by some oppo
site impulse, either to stay its progress
or nil back its power, and in default of
ability to resist, then to deny that any
such good influence was ever here at all
as a work of grace, and here arises the
flue spun effort by theorizing to attri -
ute all of these things to the march of
civilization or to the work <ff evolution.
A truth may be ascribed to the wrong
source, but this can i ever take away its
presence nor rob it of its power.
A war may be ever so violent, mali
cious and vindictive against the truth,
but at last, all opposition must vanish,
ind the truth will stand, and the vanity
r*d folly of opposition will strike ha ds
as they go down together, acknowledg
ing that no combination can successfully
light against God. L\yman.
Omipatntn* of dd.
Most of our ancestors seem to have had
occupations, which are inherited the pres
ent day.
Adam was a husband-man.
Cain and Abel were cooks.
Noah was a mariner, and anti-prohibi
tionist, (as all sailors are.)
Shem, Hem and Japhet wero builders.
Abraham wa3 a minister.
Jacob was a shepherd.
Jonah was a diver.
Samson was a pugilist, that would have
knocked Sullivan inside out.
Job was a doctor, because ho had a groat
deal of patients.
We know none to have been book agents.
Oh! it is excellent to have a giant’s
strength; but it is tyrannous to use it
like a giant.
MODERN AMDUIVS CAVIX
he Vaults in whi b the MilHoaalres *t#re
Stocks and Bonds aad Jewels.
The vast fortunes in stocks and bonds
ff the millionaires of this city are not
stored in the brown stone dwellings of
the avenue. The thin walls, black wal
nut doors, and easily picked locks of
those houses would offer little or no re
sistance against the violence of a mob or
die ingenuity of a burglar. The days
when skillful cracksmen could capture
i irge quantities of valuable property In
•ich men’s homes have almost passed
tway. Taught by experie ce or admon
ished by example, persons with porta! le
valuables have bee f >nce<l to seek pi .ees
f storage and security. Within nearly
he last dozen of years there lia-. e sprn g
•ip m answer to that dem ■ and builli gs
if massive structure anti exceptional
strength. All that ive five ge fius
c uld discover or mo ey command h v
been employed to render these place
fire and burglar-proof. There are many
of them scattered through the city from
Wall street to Harlem, all agreeing in
their main features of massive strength
ad inspiring solidity. These are known
s's ffe deposit vaults. They usually oc
cupy the ground floor of some stau ,ch
fire-proof structure, and the mass of
locks, bars, bolts, combinations and bur
glar-resisting contrivances is really won
derful.
A description of one up town near the
centre of the city will answer for the
rest. Entering from the street you pass
up to a wall of solid steel bars, every bar
is thick as a man’s wrist, ad twelve or
fifteen feet high. These are firmly fas
tmed to each other and into the stoi e
fi jor, and across them is placed a stout
vire t-ereen. Two keen eyes sharply
urvev y oil from the interstices ofthe
screen. If their owner is impressed f.i
--v .rablv there is a clicki :g of locks, a rat
tling of bolts, and slowly the ponderous
iron gate swi >srs back. Next you fll
into the hands of the s’lperi ffe de t who
gives you a- aherkee r v>‘- . and then
u docking asir > wicket, ushers you i
to the vaults. Two missive doors, e efi
■ early eight i cues thick, sta -d uj r
E ieh of the three eutra cos is double
loored and every door is secured by time
id combination 1- cus u and six large bolts
nt steel. Leaving tho daylight with the
outside world ad passing ito the inte
rior, the brightly bur fing gas jets reveal
a low-ceiled, square apartme -t. This
and *or is stone, iron >nd cement; the ceil
ing is iron, and four iron walls are con
cealed behind four rows iff iron safes.
This is the treasure house of Vanderbilt.
Human skill could tot build it stronger;
mortal geuiu.-. could not have welded
steel and stone into a firmer oombi a
tion.
When oue’s eyes become accustomed
to the light of this iron chamber one
perceives that the surface of the walls is
divided into little squares of various
sizes. The depositor inserts a thin key
f curious make in one of the squares.
He begins to Irani on the square, and it
lengthens out into an oblong box nearly
three feet long and divided up into com
partments. These boxes are movable,
oid may be taken out and brought into
i private room, where in the strictest
privacy the contents of the box may be
examined. Other safes are firmly fastened
into the wall, and have changable com!fi
mtiou locks. The locks of the outside
doors of the vaults are both time aid
combination locks, ond the time locks
are so arranged that the doors, once
c, wed, cannot be opened until 9 o’clock
i . the morning. Outside and i side at
least a dozen persons are withi i earshot,
md could easily hear the slightest unus
ual noise. It is calculated that if by any
accident the locks should all get out of
older, it would require more than four
(lays of constant la!tor to effect an en
trance.
These vaults cor. tain almost every va
riety of valuable property—gold and
silver coin, greenbacks, diamonds, arid
other precious stones, f imilv plate, sil
verware, jewelry, mementoes, oonds,
deeds, atsd valuable papers of every de
scription. Families breaking up house
keeping and removing or going abroad,
are obliged to store, their plate and val
uables for safety’s sake. Mr. W. H.
Vanderbilt has an immense amount of
property stored in this way, and fre
quently goes to the vault to cut off the
interest c mpons o£ his bonds with his
ow fi gers, or to read the tally of his
g >'iden hoard ij all the seclusion that
this stor e-steel vault e. t, grant. Private
papers of immense value lie there in
perfect security. Lawyers use the little
safes as depositories for important pa
pers, and the key to many a bitter liti
gation is looked within those walls.
Mmy fashionable ladies keep their jew
els there, taki g them out for an eve
ning and putting them back the next
moruing. Watchmen guard the vaults
within and without, and that all-potent
agent, electricity, protects them by in
genious systems of bells and alarms.
Even should a mob set out to pillage and
destroy the city it would rage in vain
against these iron-clad structures. The
companies generally guarantee the safe
ty of goods left in their care, and charge
only a few dollars a year for all this bolt
ing, barring and unceasing vigilance. A
small box Costs twenty or thirty dollars.
From that figuro the rental of the boxes
ru s up into the hundreds, but all have
the same measure of protection.—-N. Y.
Sun,
Lll.l lllßVr IN C.iIUGO.
How th- Grorxia Wnutftr was kuotkrd Wat
aod ( apt. Harst tngrod.
After she had won the laurels ia sever
al contests with men of light weight and
questionable muscle, says th* Chiesg
Tri ue. a voice fo moe if the bale- -
nies iaid: “111 bet one hundred dollnts
that my frie.d here ca sta id her.’
The manager replied that they did tot
bet, but invited tLe Samson to come
down. He came, at das he strode cro-o
the platform rite house shock with th*
weight, of his avoirdupois, as i. c > tide
smile jtiise* 1 over his f, dUres. Ir vves
whispered lu out at once thar the stive.-
ger was none other than Mbchell. tie
prize fightrr. In the pushing test he
moved Miss Hurst out • f hoi pi e • quite
easily, but she readily o -mphu od < f his
methods. There was anew trial, ■' and
tend’ he mbved her. T* o mr arret qv.
poaled to the andie ce to decide wheth
er the test b and bee f fitly made, ad
there seemed to be some dou' t, thou it
tin imme-.se buscuit was thrown at his
feet by one of the gallery gods. The
manager wanted to get nd of him, claim
i-.g he was unfair, but the audio ce pre
tested, and he was allowed to try the
chair test. He insisted on holding it by
the side so that he could lean forward
slightly, claiming that with the. baok
against him his position was constrained.
Insisting he was requested to stand
aside. The Rev. Roi>ert West arose in
his place in the midst of the.audience
and asked that the man be allowed to try
the experiment. The manager objected
on the grou id that his Cos, duct had not
been proper. Mr. West s fid lie had
-ever seen the man before, but he would
vouch for his good behavior. So the
strong man returned mid great applause
ad proceeded to comply with the rules
The tug ( f war 1 'sh and nearly a mi ute.
The man stood quite firmly most iff the
time. l>nt the chair was fi ally moved.
Tne questi >■• wis left i > some and n l -t, but
lie certai lv settled o e poi ta d the
andie ce saw if—th it the my stic f ace
VIS .ot ll 'lf so 're it who it. was uiet by
•• > u de in hie f >rce o i the other side.
The mn-> cl dined the victory, mile- i y
that “to :■ me i c uld not hold it .% he , it
was hei g jerked that way,” and mu-y
thought he h and f fir]v wo the buscuit.
T > prove it. he asked that she reverse
the test, holding the chair herself ad
offering to bet money that he could take
it from her, but the manager got rid of
him ii hot haste. Tito supposed prize
fighter is s fid to ha ve been Morris Mori
arty, of the town of L ike, whose strength
was proverbial.
PAPA HTJRST WANTED TO WHIP HTM.
The fried that acc imp: ied him de
clared within the hearing of the girl’s
father that the show was only a
sham and a fraud. After repeating the
speech several times he stepped down
from the pi itfonn and started for the
front entrance to the hall. He likewise
presented a large figure, but papa Hurst
was not afraid, and after he had passed
out- of sight Mr. Hurst braced up and
made after him. muttering harrowing
imprecations. To reach him Mr. Hurst
had to pass through the green-roor
where Mrs. Hurst sat awaitiug the close
of the “act.”
She had overheard what was sud. ad
she threw herself in the way with good
results, exclaiming: “Now, papa, noth
i;g xash. Don’t hurt him. Let him
go.”
Mr. Hurst took a seco and thought, ad
the strong man and his large fried still
live.
The cloud which the strong man cast
over the performance soon ceased, and
the exhibition went on .as before. A bil
liard-cue was broken by two yon ug men
who tried t-o put one end to the floor
while Miss Hurst resisted. An umbrella
which she tried to keep up while others
tried to pull it down was turned loose
amid the froth a: and se t twirling over the
stage, while the principal man who tried
to hold it down took a header for the
scene-shifter’s post, and is believed to
have made a cavern with his head in the
side of a painted mountain.
A \erd**d lief rm.
[K .1 ISimleite, i., !la\vkfne]
“We must lmve reform,” the sad p.is
senger remarked as the train moved on
is way to the north, ad he spread a
newp per and *w.; on the floor to put bis
feet upon. “Look at this seat? Tf I
should light the best ci ar in America,
one -f the kid that Grant smokes, and
begin to till this car with the pleasant
aroma of pure, Havauna tolmoco, the
brakeman would take away my cigar,
speak harshly to me ad order me into
the smoking car, and threate . to put me
off the tram if I did it again, while one
half of the women m the car would make
faces, pretend to he sick, and open all
the windows they could reach. But any
animal who chooses can sit anywhere in
any car he may select, fill his mouth
with black plug tobacco; and make a
mast disgusting swamp of the floor, aid
not a man connected with the road, from
the rear brakeman down to the president
will say one word to him about it. And
when I come along, who bale tobacco in
any form but smoke, I have to sit with
my feet in a puddle. It is a shame. Ail
passenger trains sh< uld have one cattle
car and compel eveiy man who chews to
bacco to ride in it.”
“And they should also haul one flat
car,” said the crons passe ev, **f>rtb
fresh stir women who el wavs insist on
keeping the c r widow open. Bh<
sho-fid sit on a slab seat o tv ope.. gr.v
--e! car, and breathe ashes and ciders t
er soul’s oonfe t.’
“A fi a dark Jlo eh box car,” s;fi>
.fie tall, thi passe er. f v 1! e m
ho whistle?.. The v. } ,s(]ers c n.
together i there ad ait : and drum
o.i the sides ef the car with their fi er
ad whistle all the tu es they di*l ’
k ow and the res* of the train would be
nippy.”
“Ad <■ K.di in .Zo > vel; eipefie ” s .ifi
the f t passe' - er, “b-r the m; who
drums on tha floor with ‘lus feet every
:fine the trai ■ stops.” Here the ra t o
the wood-I>ox suddenly ceased non ding
sis i ivoritc overture with l.'s heels “By
rite time he lias worked his k e-s •> ex
>re.ss-tiu)e fir -five c > ti ned
** t r p s virit ,u appear!
>iice n vtlu . die nr- U *e • lei
ive ids feet a v c tio; f-t two r three
hours.” .
“And occasio ally,” the man on the
wood box said, leaning forward to gaze
earnestly into the stove, “they might put
on Bar urn’s Jumbo car, for the man
who always has to ride over the trucks
for fear of springing the car.”
There was an embarrassing silence of
a mi. ute or two when the fat passenger
said something about refrigerator cars
for the man who was too fresh to keep
fit n day coach, and then everybody be
gan to fear the conversation was taking
on a congressional aspect, and so the
committee rose and shortly after the
house adjour od.
No Mors Froutier.
• [ltiil Si. , in N York <\i> rc.itiv.]
The system of t-uildig railroads in hi
the wilderness and the . allowing the wil
der ess to develop afterward, has knock
ed the essential joy out of the life of the
; pioneer. At one time he hardy hewer
of ood ad drawer <f water gave his
lifetime wiiii gly that his non mig. t rid.
i the “var isbed cars.” Now the Pnii
m palace car takes the New Yorker to
ihe threshold f the se ior to the bon d
ry li e -etwee - the IT ited Stiffen a:- and
the British possessio s.
It has driven cut the lung-ha. died fry
i.;g pan ad the fl-ipj: ck of two !y years
ago, ad i itroduced the condensed milk
ad canned fruit iff commerce. Alo
the highways, where once the hopeful
hu droils marched with long-ha: died
shovel ad pick and pa o >oki tg by the
way thin salt pork a. and fl pj .cka and
sluuviullio i, now' the road is li ed with
empty beer bottles a .and peach c o s t at
have >utlived their useful ess. No la. fi
sc ;.pe cat lie picturesque with •! empt -
pencil can in the foregrou and any mart,
than a lion would look grand in a red
monogram horse 1 fia ket ad f ilse teeth
The modern camp is not the camp < f
the wilderness. It wears the half civil
ived and shabby ge .teel garments of i
sawed-off town. You k now that if you
ride a day you will be where you ca get
the daily papers and read them under
the electric light. That robs the old
caucus of their solemn isolation m and peo
ples each gulch with the od r of cod-fish
■alls ad civilizatio . Civiliz itio.i*is not
to blame for all this, ad yet t seems
S;<d
Civilization c< uld not have done this
all alone. It had to call to its aid the i> -
fer.nd fruit ca. that now desolates the
most abscure trail in the heart of the
mountains. You walk over chaos where
the “hydraulic” has plowed up the val
ley like a convulsion, or you tread the
yieldl g path across the deserted bump,
and on all sides the rusty, neglected and
humiliated empty tin can stares at you
with its Tionotonous, dude-like stare.
A.i old-timer said to me once: “I’ve
about deeded, Bill, that ho west is a
matter of history. When we cooked our
grub over a sage-bush fire we could get
fat a: and fight I dians, but now wo fill onr
digesters with the cold pizee and pewter
f tiie canned peach; we go to a big tav
er and stick a towel u de our chi s
and eat pie with a fork and heat up our
carkisses with antichrist coal, and \ hat
do we amount to? Nuthi ! I med to
clmse Indians all day aid eat raw salt
pork all night, bekas I dassent build
tire, and still I felt better than I do now
with a wad of tin-can sodder in my stum
mick and a homesick feeling in my
weather-beaten breast.
“No, we don't have the fun we Used
to. We have more swarrees and sciatica
ad one hoomi ’ thing aid another of
that kind, but we don’t get one snort of
pure air and appetite in a year. They’re
bringiu’ i ; their blamed telephones now
and malaria and aiguo and old sledge,
ad fun might t s well skip out. There
ain’t no frontier any more. All we’ve
got left is the old-fashioned t’rantlor joos
of ’49.”
Belaud tin* red sqaaw’s coyuse pliur,
Ttit hand-car roads and rave-*,
Ad pb-pliii't pii*r* ure imw produced
A'***ve in Ic.-'ian irrav< a.
I lien the oaths ol pioneers,
Th> caucus yet to he,
The first low hum where soon will conic
The t'ur.zy ' uintdc i>ec
He who is slowest in making a prom
ise is the most faithful in the perform
ance of it.
To all inte Is and purposes, he who
w.ll not ope his eyes. f< r the present,
is as blind as he that cannot.
N UMBEL : <
4 i K m\2i' 44 *'*
touiid ' mrk Freira t* Hra'h In * an t>.
Sfi.'S" in in Ptkft.
CoLTTM.* S J U t— M in, ,y j
ler of lVi.-Av r.*, r t\ fu. mu*
* f tiVrn, ’i.. pe!p**-*\j 5 ■ • * %
Ws•- ! . v
1 . . ,1 • i
FT 1 k f .\i i i>, f ...
c s *T, i > .J . is
T v f iii' * • and (I : r jt
.4- .C' :;• V< ~(J ' ,sand
L\l t!>{ •' !. . • , H'i;* H,J . „
.-> • *rc •* and, . '• 80$ .v tiM I
m> : n.'- ' . e**i ••: i
er 1 I. . r- a: nci F-r b ■
ctr L it •4! side fh\. II
n.imu ; .<•' Flin, jiful lie* is w* >rb:
‘*>3oo 00 ) T .>' •) VS h** *i”S ’ I*!'
s ;m v >• <1 ‘ r ti;: •
lit f .rut L u->* ski f r f and
0c p: jviia •<: f -U-p k ,1 ir i H*
>i d ci ff. *-c/.i . w! U* fx* <i
1 (ru o; s t fi:c fiN m im djm
i t.:c 'i k. Hi’ nui ordered to hfri|
f>r a hath, uil pulled ff fur sbir.‘ .
The old man promised to outer h poor
house in Columlms if given his liberty.
To explain his conduct he said that he
was 99 ye irs old. and a veteran of the
Mexican war. His idea in tramping whs
to secure wit esses, a.d thus get a pen
sion. The m irshal docs not know what
to do with the old miser, and has tried
to fi and some relatives. He cannot send
him aorift, because he will be followed
and robbed. He cannot be held
ii; prison o a y charge of vagrancy, us
fie Inis ‘ visi le means of support.” Ii -
vestigation has shown that the old man
has some married children in southern
Ohio. 'He has always lived apart from
them si ce the death of his wife several
years ago. It is said that he wis swin
dled i 1 a tra suction years ago, and from
that time began his miserly life.
FIRM ITEMS.
The state chemist of Georgia advises
growing sweet potatoes for fattening pur
poses. He finds that two bushels for
them are equal in nutrition to one bushel
of corn. Land in the south that will pro
duce forty bushels of corn will easily
grow one hundred and fifty bushels of
sweet potatoes.
The idea that apples dry up the flow of
milk arises from turning them into or
chards to pick up the fallen fruit. They
get a very uneven supply, and after heavy
winds undoubtedly get too many. A few
fed daily will increase the flow, and the
amount fed may also gradually be in
creased with benefit.
The shepherd has some advantage 'over
the cattle grower, in the fact that his stock
costs less and also that he can turn it over
oftener. So well is this fact understood,
that few eastern farmers now try to grow
cattle extensively, unless they have fancy
stock; but ordinary sheep yield a fair profit
in many places.
If one half the grain fed to hogs in this
country was given to poultry it would se
cure a much more profitable return. A
bushel of corn will make perhaps four to
six pounds of pork; but the same amount
of grain will winter a hen, and her eggs
and chickens will be worth three to ten
times as much as the pork.
It is impossible to get the land too rich
for Early Rose, or, in fact, for most of the
very early varieties of potatoes. On land
of medium fertility they generally produce
much less than the later-ripening varieties.
Those to market Bhould be planted early
to get the high early price. Those for
seed are better planted about the first of
July.
An average of ten bushels of wheat per
acre can be got from sorghum, it cut just
as the seed is beginning to ripen, which is
also a good time to cut for using the juices
of the cane. This seed is eaten readily by
chickens in its crude state, but for other
stock it should be ground and the hull re
moved. Thus treated, a bushel of sor
ghum seed is worth as much as a bushel of
corn.
u hile the trees are in full leaf, and as
late in the season as possible, is the best
time to cut timber where durability is de
sired. The branches should not be re
moved for two or three weeks, as the
evaporation from the foliage causes the
wood to season much more rapidly. It is
the sap in porous woods that causes de
cay. Unless it is got out very soon after
cutting, the timber will not last.
On the western plains the dried-up
grass is regarded as excellent feed for cat
tle, and very fattening. This is owing to
the absence of rain, which allows the
juici s of the grass to be retained instead
of being washed out, as they would be
farther east. This grass, though attached
to the roots, is really good hay, though it
is usually coarser and poorer than that
from our cultivated grasses.
The future of society is in the hands
of mothers. If tho world was lost
through woman, she alone can save it.
Concentration is the secret of strength
in politics, iu war, in trade, in short, in
ail management of human affairs.
We always know oveiytliing when it
serves u:t purpose, and when the seal of
the irreparable has been set upon events.
Wise me are instructed by reason;
men of less understanding by exporiece;
the most ignorant by necessity; and tbe
beast by nature.
The r.dmi isratiou of government, like
a guardianship, ought to be directed to
the good of those who confer, ad not
those who receive the trust,