Newspaper Page Text
VOLUME V.
AM OUTSIDE VI KWOK IT.
A oozy room,
A faint perfume
The warm air filling;
A lover bold,
Whose arms enfold
A maiden willing.
An easy chair
The loving pair
Bears without murmur;
As swiftly by
The moments fly
I b* clasps her li rmer.
She dings to him,
The light is dim,
(The lamp just glimmers,)
An opal ring
Upon her ling—
Er shines and shimmers.
With whispers soft
And silence oft
The hours go flying;
She doesn’t know
Her brother Joe
Is meanly spying.
(>ut in the rain,
Through the wet pane,
1 Ie eyes his sister ;
And ere long he
Exclaims in elec :
“By Joye, lie's kissed her!”
Thus while in bliss
They sit and kiss,
These lovers loony,
This imp of sin
Grunts, with a grin :
“ Loid, ain’t they spoony.”
a Titoor ok WH O houses.
Detroit Free Press.
I had camped near the forks ef the
Platte, and was aroused just at daylight
by footsteps around me. After listening
for a moment I felt sure that they were
footsteps of horses. They seemed to be
circling around me —not at a canter, not
at a trot, but at a moderate walk. It was
well that I had secured my horse in a
thorough manner, for I never saw him so
excited. lie tugged and pulled at his
lariat, stood up on his hind legs, neighed
and snorted, pawed and pranced, and it
was his actions that gave me a clew to
the identity of my visitors.
They were wild horses!
Had they been Indian ponies my trained
horse would have remained as dumb and
silent as a post. Indeed, Indians would
not have approached me in that manner.
1 remained very quiet, hoping the
horses would remain in sight until day
light should give me a good view of them.
I had to wait for a full hour, hut when
the light grew strong the spectacle was
one to make a man’s blood tingle. The cir
cle had been enlarged until it was half a
mile across, and my little camp was the
renter. Every horse, and there were 129
of them, stood with hi3 head to the cen
ter, and soldiers could not have taken
positions on the skirmish line in a more
precise order.
1 pitied my own animal, lie stood
with the lariat drawn light,and trembled
in every limb, and he was as wet with
sweat as if 1 had galloped with him twen
ty miles. 1 realized how he must long to
break away and join the wild rovers and
forever end his drudgery.
J dared not rise to my feet for fear of
alarming the drove, but nevertheless I
had a (dear view of each horse. Most of
them were magnificent animals. Manes
down on their shoulders and tails on the
grass. They were of various colors, and
they ranged in age from the yearling
ilt up to the veterans 20 years old. dhe
hays predominated, hut every color was
present.
We had been observing each other
aboutten minutes, when a jet black stall
ion, who was the leader of the herd, gave
a snort, threw up his heels into the air,
•and broke olf at a gillop, followed by the
drove in single file. They ran in a tube
circle an l male the circuit live times be
fore stopping. Then, at another signal
from the leadin', the circle broke and the
h >rs(.s wheeled into single line or “com
p my front.”
Troop horses could not have done bet
ter. 1 thought at first that the 1 in.* meant
to charge me, but at a signal it made a
left wheel and galloped straight off on the
plain for a mile. Then it broke, assumed
the shape of a triangle and returned.
When the leader was within pistol slut
In wheeled about and the horses formed
in a square, with the four yearlings in
the center. They galloped off for a mile,
broke again, and returned in two ranks.
1 had an almost irresistable desire to
kill the leader with a bullet. Indeed, 1
reached for my rifle with that intent, hut
then came the reflection that it would be
a little short of murder. Such another
perfect horse l have never seen. His
black coat shone like silk, liis limbs and
body were perfection, and he had the
spi ed and bottom of a race-horse. Not a
halt was made for a full hour, and then it
was only preparatory to take a swift de
parture. The last manomver was a circle
at a coaxing manner to my own steed.
Poor Selim! He struggled in the most
frantic manner to break loose, and when
finding all his efforts of no avail he threw
liims *lf down on the grass and actually
groaned his disappointment. 1 rose up
then slid waved my blanket. Instead ot
lushing off in affright,as I expected, the
leader of the band deliberately approached
toward me a few rods ana stood and
snorted and pawed as if sending forth a
challenge. Then I set up a shouting,
waved the blanket some more, and he
tick his place at the head, formed the
hand “company front,” and they went
off at a gallop, and maintained it as long
us I could see the waving line.
Did anybody ever hear, in all the days
of slavery, of negro women being worked
In the cotton field stripped to the waist, and
wearing only men’s coarse trowsers? Yet
such is the costume in which thousands ot
Hungarian women are working in the coal
mines of tin' North, and we listen in vain
for howls of indignation from philanthrop
ic In arts-in that section, save a scattering
few, and they, we believe, are villainous
Democrats. —Atlanta Journal.
MARK TWAIN.
HIS TALK TO NF.W YORK COM
POS 11 ORS.
The OlTiee “Devil” of Thirty-Five Ya.xis
Ago The “Ups” and “Downs” of
Newspaper Life - He “Made
Even” and Stopped.
At a banquet of New York printers in
commemoration of Franklin’s hirthdaj r
Mark Twain responded to the toast, “The
Compositor,” as follows:
“I am staggered by tlie compliments
which have been lavished and poured out
on me by my friend on my right (Mr.
Bailey.) I am as proud of tins compli
ment as lam staggered. It is uncommon
in my experience. It is the first time
that anybody in my experience lias stood
up in the presence of a large and respect
able assemblage of gentlemen like this
and confess that he has told the truth
once. If I could return the compliment I
would do it.. [ Laughter at Mr. Dailey’s
expense.]
“The chairman’s historical reminiscences
of Gutenbert have caused me to fall into
reminiscences, for I myself am something
of antiquity. [Laughter,] All things
change in the procession of years, and it
may he that lam among strangers. It
may he that the printer of to-day is not
the printer of thirty-five vearsago. I was
no stranger to him. I knew him well. I
built his fire for him in the winter
months ; 1 brought his water from the
village punip; I swept out his office; I
picked up his type from under his stand,
and if he was there to see I put the good
type in his case and the broken ones
among the ‘hell matter;’ and if he wasn’t
there to see 1 dumped it all with the ‘pi’
on the imposing stone —for that was the
furtive fashion of the cub, and I was the
cub. I wetted down the paper Satur
days, turned it Sundays, for this was a
country weekly. I rolled, I washed the
rollers, I washed the forms, I folded the
papers, I carried them around at dawn
Thursday mornings. I enveloped the pa
pers that were for the mail—we had a
hundred town subscribers and 350 coun
try ones. The town subscribers paid in
groceries, and the country ones in cab
bages and cord-wood, when they paid at
all, which was merely sometimes, and
then we always stated the fact in Ihe pa
per, and gave them a puff, and if wc for
got it they stopped the paper. Every man
on the town list helped edit the thing;
that is, he gave orders as to how it was to
he edited ; dictated its opinions, marked
out its course for it, and every time the
boss failed to connect .ho stopped his pa
per. We were just infested with critics,
and we tried to satisfy them all over.
We lmd one subscriber who paid cash,
and he was more trouble to us than all
the rest. He bought u a , once a year,
body and soul, for two dollars. lie used
to modify our politics every which way,
and he made us change our religd >n five
times iu four years. If wc ever tried to
reason with him Jie would threaten to
stop his paper, and, of course, that m< ant
bankruptcy and destruction. That man
used to write articles a column and a half
long, loaded long primer, and sign them
‘Junius’ or ‘Veritas’ ’or ‘Vox Populi,’ or
some other high-sounding rot., and then,
after it was set up, lie would come in and
say lie had changed his mind—which was
a gilded figure of speech, because lie
hadn’t any—and order it to he left out.
We couldn’t stand such a waste as that;
we couldn’t afford ‘bogus’in that office,
so we always took the leads out, altered
the signature, credited the article to the
rival paper in the next village and put it
in. Well, we did have one or two kinds
of‘bogus.’ Whenever there was a harbe
.cue, or a circus, or a baptizing we knock
ed off for half a day, and then, to make up
for short matter, we would ‘turn over
ads’ —turn over the whole page and du
plicate it. The other bogus was deep
philosophical stuff which we judged no
body ever read ; so we kept a galley of it
standing and kept on slapping the same
old hatches of it in, every now and then,
until it got dangerous. Also in the early
days of the telegraph we used to econ
omize on the news. We picked out the
items that were pointless and barren of
information and stood them on a galley,
changed the dates and localities and used
them over and over again until the public
interest in them was worn to the hone.
We marked the ads, but we seldom paid
any attention to them afterward ; so the
life ol a ‘id’ ad. and a ‘tf ad. was equally
eternal. I have seen a ‘td’ notice of a
sheriff’s sale still booming serenely along
two years after the sale was over, the sher
iff dead and the whole circumstance be
come ancient history. Most of the yearly
ads were patent medicine stereotypes, and
we used to fence with them. Life was
easy with us ; if we pied a form we sus
pended until next week, and wc always
suspended every now and then when the
fishing was good, and explained it by ihe
illness of the editor, a paltry excuse, be
cause that kind of a paper was just as well
off with a sick editor as a well one, and
better olf with a dead one than either of
them. He was full of blessed egotism and
placid self-importance, hut he didn’t
know as much as a three-em quad. He
never set, any type, except in the rush of
the last day, and then he would smoueh
all the poetry and leave the rest to ‘jeff’
for the solid takes. He wrote with im
pressive flatulence and soaring confidence
upon the vastest subjects; hut pulling
alms gifts of wedding cake, salty ice
cream, abnormal watermelons and sweet
potatoes the size of your leg was his best
hold. He. v\ as always a poet—a kind of
CARTERSVILLF. GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JUNE 1, 1886.
poet of the carrier’s address breed—and
whenever hi* intellect suppurated and he
read the result to the printers and asked
their opinion they were very trank and
straightforward about it. They generally
scraped their rules on the boxes all the
time he was reading and called it ‘hog
wash’ when he got through. All this was
thirty five years ago, when the man who
could s.et 700 an hour could put on just as
many airs as he wanted to ; and if these
New York men who recently on a wager
set 2,000 an hour solid minion for two
hours on a stretch had appeared in that
office they would have been received as
accomplishes of the supremely impossi
ble, and drenched with hospitable beer
until the brev cry was bankrupt.
“1 can see that printing oiliee of prehis
toric times yet, with its horse hills on the
Walls, its ‘d’ boxes clogged with tallow,
because we always stood the candle In the
‘k’ box nights, its towel, which was not
considered soiled until it could stand alone,
and other signs and symbols that marked
the establishments of that kind in the
Mississippi Valley, and I can also see the
tramping ‘jour’ who flitted by in the sum
mer, and tarried a day, with his wallet
shifted with’ one shirt and a hatful of
handbills; or if he couldn’t get any type
to set he world do a temperance lecture.
His way of life was simple, his needs not
complex; all he wanted was plate and
bed and money enough to get drunk on
and he was satisfied. But it may he, as I
have said, that I am among strangers, and
sing the glories of a. forgotten age to unfa
miliar ears, so I will ‘make even’ and
stop.
Mr. Clemens’ trade siang told with ef
fect, and “the hoys”gave him three choirs
at the close.
MOUTH-HUE ATI I IMG.
When we think of treatment it is first
important that we understand mouth
breathing as a habit. An inherited form
of teeth or lips may cause a tendency to
ward its acquirement, yet that it is a
habit is evidenced by many cases in
which it has been overcome merely by
persistent effort. With infants its ear
liest evidences should he checked, as in
the example of the Indian mother. The
formation of the habit is thus avoided,
and the child saved from a long train of
injurious effects in tfie future. There is
no danger of smothering, as the child will
wake if the nose is obstructed. Mothers
and nurses should see that these little
noses are kepit free, and they can save
their charges from this unsightly affliction
if they are only watchful.
With mature mouth-breathers much of
the treatment rests with themselves. They
must first have a physician or surgeon to
remove any causes that interfere with the
free passage of air through the nose.
These may exist in the form of “catarrh,*
polypi, distorted septum, etc., all of which
are curable. After this ha l been done"
the chances are for a complete recovery,
because less perseverance will he required.
Many will say that they cannot keep their
mouths closed while asleep. This is true,
hut if they persist and breathe only
through the nose during the time they
are awake, they will find that their
mouths will remain closed when they
sleep. It must he rememl ered that 1.0
habit can be cure l in a short time. r l l.e
most constant watchfulness will he le
quired for months, an 1 perhaps for years,
hut it will ultimately he rewarded by a
cu re.
DOG MEAT KOlt FOOD.
George Baum, a farmer living with his
wife and family a few miles from Volca
no, W. Va., narrowly escaped being lynch
ed by a mob ofin liguant neighbors. The
cause was the outrageous treatment of his
wife and the feeding of her and the chil
dren on dog flesh. Mrs. Baum is ill with
consumption and her physician prescrib
ed cod liver oil. The husband thereupon
killed a dog, rendered some of its fat and
placed it in a bottle and took that and the
dressed meat home. His wife took the
grease and soon became very ill. The
dog meat Baum represented to he mutton
and made the children eat it. Asa result
the children were also taken sick.
The following day some of the neigh
bors whose suspicions had been excited
followed Baum to the woods and saw him
kill and dress another dog. They at once
captured him. They were on the point of
hanging him when wiser counsels pre
vailed and lie was placed in jail. His
wife and children are very ill.
I OK TIKKD EVES.
In these da\s of study and sedentary
work, requiring much use of the eyes,
they often become so tired that they re
fuse to do good work. I’his is particu
larly true when the work is done in a
pool lit-ht, or when it is very tine work.
Few eyes will hear such treatment for any
length of time without being spoiled. The
question is often asked us, “What can be
done in such oases?” There is one rem
ely for tired eyes that lias great value. It
consists in massage with the hand wet in
cool < r cold water. Fill a basin with it,
and, standing over it, wet the hand with
as much cold water as it. will hold and
apply it to the eyes, at the same time with
the thumb and forefinger giving the eyes
a gentle manipulation. Continue the
process for lour or five minutes several
times a day. The results are often almost
marvelous.
At Reading, Penn., a hoy, aged seven, has
a mania for tire, and seeks to burn up
everything he can lay his hands on. He
formerly lived with his parents, in Pbila
delphia, where he cremated his brother ot
eighteen months, and when punished for
it threatened to kill the rest of the family
He was then sent to his grandmother in
Heading,where lie has roasted several cats,
burned up shoes and other wearing apparel
and has made attempts to set tire to
buildings.
A NEW I'P-STA 1 US GIItL.
; “D n’t let y®ur good looks turn your
h aid, L illy,” were the words that Uncle
: Solon said to me when he put me on the
cars and handed my little canvas travol
| iug-bag after me. “Remember that
beauty is only skin deep, and handsome
| is as hands* me does. ”
The idea of saying u ill things to me!
But Uncle Solon always was peculiar.
My seat. —next to ft pleasant-faced gen
tlemen with a black moualac ie and de
lightful mysterii us eyes, jut like those
( f Fitzalhan Moutulembert, in the lust
novel I had read—chanced to be oppo
site a slit-like panel of looking glass, aiul
I could nut help seeing the reflection of
mv own face.
What was it I saw there?
Around face, all roses and —
soft hazel eyes, with a fringe of tli ci
lashes a shade darker than my red-brown
h in—a decided dimple in the chin and a
trim little In u e neatly attired in brown
debeige.
Yes, I was pretty; Uncle Solon was
right there. And I meant that my luce
should he my fortune. Unf ..rt innately,
I never It. and any time for 1 oaks, and my
public school ( die it ion had go ie in one
ear and out the other, s i 1 c uldu’t enter
the list with the fortunate governesses
who are always making great matches —
in story books, at least. Neither could I
be lady's companion, f>r my mistress’
s >n or nephew to f dl in love with me, IV 1 ’
I could neither play nor sing, and what
ever L attempted to re 1 1 about I in
vari ibly stumbled over the big words.
But it wan neceosary for me to earn my
■ living in some way, and old Mrs.
Fudgeby had se it over a New York pa
per, in which she had pencil-marked an
advertisement for an * 4 up-stairs girl’’
who was wanted iu a house in Fifth
avenue.
“You may he sure it is an excellent
place,” said Mrs. Fudgeby, “my niece,
Helen Maria, sows there, and
tiie lady is most kind and pleasant.
And Helen Maria will speak a good word
for you. And if you suit, you’ll get a
good home and capital pay, take my
word for it.”
(Just like iuut Pecs’s! Because she
wasn’t young herself, she had no sym
pathy for any one who was. Old people
wore so selfish.)
“But,” added Mrs. Fa Igeby, “Helen
Maria says any one who cornea to Mis.
Maicati’s must step very light, and
speak very low, and ho careful not to
1 nigh too loud, for fear of her nerves.
She's quite an invalid. Sue Inn just
discharged all her doctors* an 1 is expect,
iugalcirned Americ m physician, who
his been ten years iu Paris, to take
charge of here ise. But la! Helen M iria
says it’s all fi cv, and that if her misses
had to earn her bread at the wash-tub
or the ironing hoard, it would he dif
ferent, though it ain’t a hired girl’s place
to express any opinion of the sort.”
“Is the f unilv large?’, said I, secretly
wondering if there was a handsome
to fall iii love with me.
. “No,” said Mrs. Fudgeby, “a widow
ed daughter who devotes herself to
painting, and two sous.”
Two sous! Tu.it, settled the matter
for me. I determined to apply for the
place at all hazards. Why shouldn’t I
succeed us well as Jane Eyre, who by
alloc winds was an insignificant little
black thing without a word to say for
lu-rself?
“There w’on’t be much to do,” said
Mrs. Fudgeby. “You wililio expected
to make the beds and tidy up the ro nus,
and dust the parlors and attend the door
bell. Mrs. Marcati Irs a deal of com
pmy, and by-the-by, ll.de i M iria says
all the girls there are expected to wei.r
c ip \”
“O i, Id m’t n i id that,” said I, for
I once pi aye l Grisette iu private the
atric ils, at and the 1 t le blue-ribboned cap
hid been particulai lv becoming to me.
“Tie f imily are quite rich,” said Mrs.
Fudgeby, but they do i’t keep no men
help. Mrs. Marc.hi was robbed once
by a Swiss butler, and liaiu’t had no f lith
in meu since. Ail Helen Maria says
she keeps a lot of pearls and diamonds
aud tine jewelry locked in the etegere
(which Mrs. Nudgeby pronounced ‘etti
ger’) bee mso it’s a place nobody wouldn’i
suspect. There are so many burglars
around New York, you know!”
And she w i it on to ral Re a good many
family peculi irities of the Mircitis, in
her prosy, gossipy way, but she nev r
thought to tell me what T afterward
learned, to my very great disappoiut
m nit, that both if the laity's sous were
m u rii and men.
Then, of c mrse, I made iny applica
tion at oi.c •, and was glad enough to
learn, through Helen Maria Fudgeby,
that it had been favorably considered,
and that I was to c >me to No.— Fifth
ive.iue, at once. Aunt Persia gave me
anew shwl and a deal of good advice,
to which I paid very little attention.
(Jucle S Jo i presented uio with a pocket
Cestameut and a h *lf-d >zen crape hau
kerchiefs, And so I left Milliken’s Falls
m triumph pursuit if that fortune which,
like a will-o-the-wisp, always kept
just a little ahead of me. We had not
gone far when 1 dropped the key of my
traveling hag, aud my neighbor with
the dreamy eyes gallantly picked it lip
for me.
“Very awkward of me,” Slid T.
“Not in the leas',” said lie.
This little occurrence broke the ice, and
w si on became great friends. He told
me that he hml been maise lmtltiug up
in Maine. I confided him that I was
going to be the comp union—l d'du’t
quite like to say “up-stairs girl"—of
Mrs. Marcati, of No— Fifth avenue.
He seemed very much iuteieited in me.
He said there was something so attractive
in watching the career of youth aud in
noceuce—and might he add bounty?
I said that was all nonsense. lie said
he could not help being frank, ind lie
only hopi il tha' he had n J offended me.
And the fruit boy ca:ne along, and he
bought an orange aud some bananas
for me; and next cone the news agei t,
and he purchased anew n no! and Mime
pictorial papers, f >y he said lie knew by
my face that I was literary; so that
altogether, the journey to New York
seemed a deal slantt Ilia i I had expect
ed. I was a little sorry that I lnd told
the dreamy eyed geidlemin .II about
the Ma.citis, especially with iQgmd
to thd jewels in eiegere drawer and the
nervous ailments of my new employe”,
even down to the arrival of the new
physician who had distinguished himself
in Paris. But of course it didn’t matter.
Why should it?
He wrote down my address when w.-
parted at the depot, and said that lie
should avail himself of the very first op
portunity to call,
I found No.— Fifth avenue without
any difficulty. Helen Maria had written
out the direction very cuefuily, aud
everything was far grander than I in and
any idea of. Mrs. Marcati, a handsome
lady in a black velvet gown, said I lmd
a nice face, aud she hoped I would do
my best. Mrs. Maurice, the widowed
daughter, said she would like to paint
me as Ilebe, The two sons aud their
wives were at the country se it in
Yonkers. But I wasn’t so much disap
pointed about them as I should have
been if I imd not seen the dreamy-eyed
hero of the railway train.
I did my best to learn my new duties
and fulfill them to the satisfaction of lm
now mistress. Helen Maria was there,
and the cook, a very genteel woman,
with a kitchen maid who did all the
dishwashing and floor scrubbing, took
quite a fancy to me, although the laun
dress, a sour faced Scotch woman, sad
that I was “a deal too giddy and light
minded.” Still it was quite a pleasant
change fiom Millikeu’s Falls.
The third dty that I was there, there
came a ring at the door bell, and who
should stand there when I opened it, but
my dreamy-eyed hero!
“Goodness me!” said TANARUS, e floring all
over as pink as a daisy, “is it you? ’
“Is Mrs. Marcati at home?” said he.
“No,” said I; “file has just this min
ute driven away frofti the door.
I should think you would have met her
—in ad irk blue land m, with black
horses and— ”
“No matter, my good girl,” said. In*,
“I will come in and wait. My name is
of no great importance. Perhaps you
don’t know—l don’t iemember that I
mentioned it—but I am the gentleman
from Paris.”
“The new doctor?” said I. “La! ai.d
you never told me?”
“Our professional secrois are not our
own property,” said he, as solemn a i an
owl.
“Please to walk in,” said T. “I am
so sorry Mrs. M inriee wont o it with her
m;i, because—”
“It don’t matter,” lie said; “I can avail
myself of the opportunity to diagnose
some of the cases scribbled down in my
notes. I dare say she will not be long.”
He drew out a picket tablet as he
spoke and put on a learned-looking pair
of eye glasses; and 1 tip-toed out if the
room, wondering how it would seem to
he the wife of one of these New York
doctors. So he was a learned man who
had really resided in Paris. How good
it was of him to be so interested iu my
s.lly chatter that day on ttie railroad
cars.
I did not like to interrupt his scientific
studies, but an soon as I had linislied
tidying the bedrooms, T watched eagerly
at the door f>r M s. Marciti to return.
Tt was nearly an hour ifteiwuil when I
ran down the stops to take her shwl ad
parasol, and told her that the iuw
doctor had been wailing for her.
“That is nonsense,J child,” she s id,
sharply. “I have just com > from his
office, where f hive hid i long i- ter
v ew with him.”
“He’s here, ma’am;’’ said F.
“There must he some mistake, mam
ma,” said Mrs. Maurice, and they both
went up the ste;w and into the parlor.
No one was there.
“Oil, dear!” sai 1 I. “He has got
tired and gone away.”
“Mamma,” cried Mrs. Maurice, “the
etegere drawers are broken open and all
your jewels and money arc gone! And
the silver c.\rd receiver and the thoii
saud-dollar bronzes, aid the little
Miesoonier that Julius brought you
from Europe!”
Oh, deal! oh, dear! I don’t know how
lam to tell the end of the story. The
dreauiy-eyed gentleman was a confi
dence man of the most shark-like de
scription, and I was arrested its Ins
acc implies and put in j iii until uncle
Scion came up from Millikiu Ful's
to testify to my character aud
b iii me out. Oh, I often won
der that I did i’t commit suicide, ex
c qt there was nuthiug to commit it
with. Aud the judge looked at me
witii such terrible big eyes, and the
lawyer asked such ins le <t questions.
Bat somehow it w.vs proved that I didn’t
mean auy harm and that I wasn’t an ac
complice—only a dupe. But of course
I lost my placs and had to go back to
Uncle Solo”, H Jen Maria Fudgeby
was very angry with me, and the Scotch
lauml ess said she had foreieen all from
the very beg'lining.
I don’t know whether Mrs. Marcati
t-ver got her things back or not, and I
am m t likely to know now, for I am de
termined to stay at home with Uncle
Solon and churn butter aud feed little
chickens and c lives, for I've had quite
enough of city life. —Shirely Brown.
( HEATED THE C’OKOM It.
I’ooW’s >llll.
It was in Southern Illinois, December
23d,1885. The chilling winds of the sea
son—bright and cloudless though the day
had been, the sun never having shown
more gloriously—pcnetiatid lightly
clothed pedestrians. The smoke from the
output of the Barnard, Big Muddy and
B ‘ssemer mines curled aloft lazily, to he
absorbed in wintry air or fall in smudges,
for the benefit of the cistern water, or on
the delicate noses of the belles and beaux.
It was the last week of December, and
time for that kind of business known as a
cold day.
Far away from the hum of the town,
deep in the shadowy recesses of the wood
land, worth about twenty-five dollars an
acre, on the sunny side of a Ie ap of twigs,
a weary wayfarer lmd sat himself down
to rest —and dry his shirt, lie was a
child of sorrow ; his pockets and his bot
tle were empty. lie could n>t get work
at his trade—that of a hurve t hand—and
he scorned any other labor He had re
tired to this seelu led spot, ihi from the
haunts of men, that lie might ruminate on
the mutability of human affairs, and get
rid of a few bugs. He had drained to the
dregs the beer kegs on the edges of the
sidewalks and the last snort from his bot
tle, without a thought of sorrow, unless a
wish for more liquid refreshment could
be construed.
All was solitude about him, the gentle
zephyrs at times stirring the withered
leaves and swaying the branch on which
his garment liune, only disturbed the
universal quietude. lie was a lon 6 with
•nature, and dryer than a powder horn.
Overcome by weariness, superinduced by
studies of the varied landscape of the night
before, when he hunted for cigar stumps
along the gutters in the moonlight,
sleep at last overcame him; his head
dropped upon his breast, and, as in a
tranc *, be straightened bis term upon the
frosted verdure of the hillside, and the
dulcet note* of his nasal organ awakened
the echoes of the adjacent glades and
valleys.
The first volley attracted the attention
of a dog, which, in quest of “cotton tails,”
had invaded the sylvan retirement of
Black Man’s Backbone, oecupiel by the
stranger. He evidently mistook it for the
whirr of an alarmed covey of partridges
as they arose from a covert. Dashing to
ward the spot fle made a “stand,” when
he discovered the sleeping form. His
master, a youth of tender years and vivid
imagination, soon cam” upon the scene,
and he knew at once the man was dead.
The dog, drawn by a something—perhaps
tlie strength of the stranger’s breath—
went near and smelt the “body,” circled
around it, then sadly retired behind an
adjacent stump and “heaved Jonah.”
The hoy stood in frighteTied awe; his eye
balls distended, lie got weak in the knees,
cold sweat ran down his cheeks, cold
waves passed over his spinal co u nn, he
wanted to go home —lie went.
But with the fervent desire, inborn in
every native of America, to look after the
weal of those elevated to public trusts,
and earn a witness fee when opportuni
ty offers, he sought the J. P. acting rs
coroner he told the harrowing tale. llow
that in hunting rabbits he had become
separated.from his companions; how his
deg had found the body ; how dead it
was; how lie had walked around it, de
termined to shoot if it got up and “hopped;”
how lie was ateiud, and how leisurely he
walked off.
Soon all was hustle in the hitherto quiet
village. A constable was ordered to select
a jury to sit on the body, an armful of law
books was furnished, the services of an
attorney were secured, possibly with a
view lo an action against the cadaver iu
ease concealed we pons were discovered
upon it—that precedent having been es
tablished at East St. Louis—and away
they went, followed by a crowd of curi
osity seekers and small boys Deeply
impressed by the solemn duties about to
be performed, the official force approached
the fßefill spot; the question of who
should go through the clothing of the
hia Jcened and bloated form, had been
sprung, and various cheerful coincidence •
regarding the finding of other poor crea
tun sh id been narrated. Holding their
liandkt n hiefs over their noses, to prevent
the noxious gases from making them sick,
the awe-struck party reached the desig
nated brush-heap, walked around it in
sitrgle*iile, holding to each other’s coat
tails—the coroner in the rear repeating the
Lord’s prayer—and saw not the “stiff,”
but on the leaves before them the impres
sion of the tramp’s form while asleep.
Not dead, not even drunk, but dead
broke, the wanderer had resumed liis
journey. His shirt was dry, so was he,
ami so w;is the joke on the coroner.
Borne folks nvght think this happened
at Chester, but it was some distance
away, as those who “hoofed it” there and
back can testify. Posted on a tree near
where the “body]* was discovered, a no
tice appeared : “Lost, a swelled and
bloated body, black in the lace, supposed
to have been dead ten days or two weeks.
If found, return to the proper authorities
A suitable reward will be paid, for if re
covered it will fill a long felt want —a
coroner’s fee.” There is also a warrant
out for a tramp for contempt of court,
NUMBER 4
THOUGHTS ON MARRIAGE.
BILL NVE BEWAILS THE WOES
OF HIS SEX.
Bad-Eyei Mon Who Are Mourning the
■Negloct o 1 Those AVlio Swore to
Uhtriah Them—A Badly
Needed Reformation.
Marriage is, to a man, at once the happi
est and saddest eveut of his life. He quits
all the companions and associations of
his youth, and becomes the chief attrac
tion ot anew home. Every former tic is
loosened, the spring of every hope and ac
tion is to be changed, and yet he llees with
joy to the untrodden paths before him,
Then woe to the woman who can blight
such joyful anticipations, and wreck the
bright hopes of the trusting, faithful, fra
grant masculine blossom, aud bang his
head up against the sink, and throw him
seder the cooking range, and kick him in
to a three-cornered mass and then sit down
on him.
Little do w..men realize that all a man
needs under the broad cerulean dome of
heaven is love -and ooard and clothes.
Love is his life. It some woman or other
don’t love him, and love him like a hired
man, he pines away and eventually climbs
the golden stair. Man is born with strong
yearnings for the unyearnable.and he does
not care so much for wealth as he does
for some one who will love him under all
circumstances and in all conditions.
If women would spend their evening*
at home with their husbands, they would
see a marked change in the brightness of
their homes. Too many sad-eyed men
are wearing away their lives at home
alone. Would that I had a pen of fire to
write in letters of living light the igno
miny and contumely and—some more
things like that, the names of which have
escaped my memory—that are to-day being
visited upon my sex.
Remember that your husband has the
most delicate sensibilities, and keenly feels
your coldness and neglect. The former
may be remedied by toasting the feet over
a brisk fire before going to bed, but the
latter can only be remedied by a total re
form on your part. Think what you
promised his parents when you sued for
his hand. Think how his friends, and
several girls to whom he had at different
times been engaged, came to you with
tears in their eyes and beiought you not to
be unkind to him. Do these things ever
occur to you as you threw him over the
card table and mop the floor with his re
mains? Do you ever feel the twinges of
remorse after you have put an octagonal
head on him for not wiping the dishes
drier? Think what a luxurious home you
took him from, an 1 how his mother used
to polish his boots and take care of him,
and then consider what drudgery you
subject him to now. Think what pain it
mustcause him vvuen you growl and swear
at him. Perhaps when you went away to
your work you did not leave him wood
and coal and water; does he ever murmur
or repine at your neglect?
Ah, if wives knew the wealth of warm
and true affection locked up in the bosoms
of their husbands, and would draw it out,
instead ot allowing the hired girl to get all
tlie benefit, what a change there would be
in this world of ours. But never do until
the companion ot their joys and sorrows
has winged his way to the evergreen shore
and takes charge of the heavenly orchestra,
and then for about two weeks you will
see a violently red proboscis glimmering
and sparkling under a costly black veil,
after which the good qualities of the
and jceased will be preserved in alcohol,
to he thrown up to No. 2 in the bright
days to come.
Then, in conclusion, wives in Israel
and other railroad towns, love your hus
bands while it is yet day, Give him your
confidence. If your active corn manifests
a wish to leave the reservation go to your
husband with it. Lean on him. He will
be solid muldoon. He will get an old
wood rasp and make that corn look sick,
i He is only waiting for your confidence
and your trust. Tell him your business
affairs and he will help you out. He will,
no doubt, offor to go without help in the
house in order to economize, and he will
think of numberless other little ways to
save money. Do as we have told you and
you will never regret it. Your lives will
then be one great combination of and
beautiful dissolving views. You will
journey down the pathway of your earthly
existence with the easy peotical glide of
the fat man who steps on the treacherous
oian'e peel. Your last days will be
surrounded with a halo of love, and as
your eyes get dim with age and one by
one your teeth drop out, you oau say with
pride that you have never, never gone back
on your solid paid.
Bishop Turner, having disposed of the
Supreme Court, turns his attention to elec
tricty. He says While the white man
has done a good deal for the world, he is
carrying things a little too far iu the matter
of utilizing electricity for the various pur
poses to which it is now applied. Espe
cially does he object to the electric light,
and points to recent lloods, -hurricanes
cyclones and other atmospheric distur
bances as the direct result of'Tinbalancing
air currents,” which he charges to electric
influences in the hand of man. He says
that “lightning is God’s machine,” and
sounds a warning for man to keep his
hands off.
For Sale. *
One house and lot, on Erwin street,
with all necessary out houses, and four
teres of land, orchard, and good well of
wattr, for sale cheap, call on
J. A. Howa-UD, Carterville, Ga.