Newspaper Page Text
W. F. SMITH, Publisher,
VOLUME IX.
THEOLOGY IN THE QUARTERS.
fow, I’fl of a notion in my head dat when you com*
to die,
An’ efan’ de 'zamination in de Cote House in de sky
Fou’ll be astonished at de questions de angel’s gwin’
to ax
When he {dts you on d* witness etan’ an’ pin you to
do fac’s;
Cause he’ll ax you mighty closely ’bout your doin’*
in the nights,
An’ do watermillion question’s gwina to bodder you
a sight!
Den your eye3 ’ll open wider den dey *bber done
befo’.
Then he chats you ’bout a chicken aorape dat hap
pened long ago!
De atge'.s on de picket line cr long dc Milky Way
lecps a watchin’ what you’re dribin’ at an’ hearln*
what you say.
No matter what you want to do, no matter whar
you’s gwine,
Dej'i: mighty ap’to find It out an’ pass it loDg de
line;
An’ of’u at do mootin', when you make a fuss an’
laugh,
Why, dey send do nows a^ kitin’ by da goldon tele
graph;
Den <lo angol in Je orifle, what’s a settin’ by de gate,
Jen’ reads de message wid a look, an’ claps it on de
elate I
Den you bettor do your duty well, an’ keep your
conscience clear,
Au’ keep a lookin’ straight ahead an’ watchin’ whar
you steer;
’Cvnse arter a while do time’ll come to journey from
de lan',
An’ dey’ll tako you way up In de a’r an’ put you on’
do slnn’;
Den you’ll hah to listen to de clerk an’ answer
mighty straight,
Ef you ebber ’spec’ to trabble froo de alaplaster gate!
—The Century.
FUCKING FROM A FORTUNE .
The sun roso propitiously bright on
Graco Sylvester’s wedding morn; the
air was balmy, the sky blue, and nil
nature seemed in sympathy with the
happy day.
Presently a stir awoke in the house
hold, that soon swelled into a murmur
of constornation. The bride was miss
ing. Some ono had gone to her cham
ber to awaken her and found it empty.
Immediately a search was instituted,
which proved fruitless. The brido
gr‘ )om was sent for, but he could offur
ao explanation ; like the parents, he was
distracted w r itli anxiety.
Graco Sylvester was a proud, impul
sive girl, with a warm heart and impet
uous temper. She was an only child,
and somewhat spoiled, as was natural;
but nothing that could be imagined or
adduced could account for this unheard
of freak; she had not even fastened a
note on the toilet-cushion, as a key to
the mystery, after the custom of hero’
ines.
For a week previous to this now un
lucky day, the Sylvester mansion had
continuously opened its hospitable por
tals to arriving guests. Friends and
relations of Mr. Frank Howard, the ex
pectant bridegroom, crowded to do
honor to the occasion, which the Syl
vester connection wero not less eager to
embellish with their presence.
This singular occurrence, therefore,
could not possibly bo preserved a secret,
and the chagrined and distracted host
and hostess had all the added misery of
knowing that their daughter’s inexpli
cable flight was the subject of all sorts
of surmises and discussions by those
who iu set phrase endeavored to condole
with them, and at the same time hint at
insanity as the only solution of such an
unprecedented freak.
But a special gleam was soon destined
t<4illume the darkness. Grace had not
been unmindful of her dear parents, nor
her devoted lover. A letter addressed
to the former had been dropped by her
in the postoffico. It was brief, and evi
dently written under the pressure of
excitement; but, even in its fragmentary
haste, Mr. and Mrs. Sylvester could
trace their daughter’s tenderness ; and
tar lover, despite the undisputed mys
tery of its tone, took consolation from it.
Its contents may be rendered thus :
She had left of her own free will and
anaccompauied, though she admitted
that she would be met at her journey’s
fact by a worthy guardian, in whose care
she would remain, and who, at the ex
piration of a week, would bring her
home again; until then, she begged
they would wait for her explanation,
abovo all forgive any pain or annoy
ance her hasty disappearance had
caused.
This epistle, though gratefully re
ceived, since it assured them of her
f; taty, was not, of course, entirely satis
hsetory to her parents and lover.
Despite her promise to return, they
not remain quiet till the expira
tion of the time named, but sought her
th every conceivable place ; but, as was
evident from the security of her retreat,
Grace did not mean to be found till af
kr the interval she had named.
One by one, or in small parties, as
e y had come, the wedding guests de-
Pafied. Thgy carried to their own
>uses a charmingly inexhaustible theme
* or kosaip and wonderment. Every one
ggggggggggggggggggg
held a separate solution and theory, and
the subject promised to be one of unu
sual variety and entertainment.
But only one of them possessed any
clew to the truth—and she, shy, insidi
ous plottei that she was, had laid a train
whose success promised even beyond
her hopes. She watched its develop
ment in silence. It was not her cue to
speak but to await the fulfillment of her
design, and so she lingered, professing
the intensest sympathy for all, and at
the same time contriving to bestow the
most of it on Frank Howard, her distant
cousin.
This young lady, May Prescott by
name, had long been hopelessly in love
tvitli her Cousin Frank. She knew that
his heart was devoted to another, but
had never had an opportunity of seeing
her rival till the generous and unsus
pecting Grace, wishing to give both her
and Frank pleasure, had asked her by
letter to be one of her bridesmaids.
May’s darling object was then gained.
She had unlimited faith in her own pow
er of creating discord, and had secretly
resolved to separate the lovers and win
Frank for herself, 6ven at the eleventh
hour.
Her first interview with Grace con
vinced her that ardent and lmpmsive
generosity was the strong point of her
character. On this she acted.
“ How oddly the gifts of fate are dis
tributed !” said she, with a sigh, as they
were talking together the night before
the wedding. “ One would think it was
enough to get a beautiful wife, without
grasping at a great fortune, too; but
then Frank always had a keen eye for
the main chance.”
Grace’s face flushed a deep, indignant
crimson; her full, bright eyes flashed
with sudden anger as she looked at May
Prescott steadily.
“Pray explain yourself, Miss Pres
cott,” she said. “I do not understand
you in the least.”
“ What! have you never heard of the
will of Frank’s eccentric old Uncle Paul?
But I am sorry ; perhaps I have done
wrong in mentioning it. No doubt he
meant to deceive you—no, no ! I don’t
mean that—l mean perhaps he did not
wish you to know.”
She affected to be overcome with con
fusion at her own inadvertence, and pre
tended to regret having said so much.
Grace quietly but firmly demanded to
know all.
“ You have said too much to recede!”
she exclaimei “Tell me all there is
to tell.”
This was just the opportunity May
desired. She arose to see that the door
was closed; then, satisfied that she and
Graco were alone together, she poured
into her victim’s ear the story whose re
sult was Grace’s flight from home.
The week passed anxiously enough to
the three people who were awaiting the
wayward bride’s return. The appointed
day came, and early in the morning a
carriage stopped before the Sylvester
mansion, and Graco alighted from it,
followed by an old nurse, of whom she
had always been fond, and whose pres
ence explained the fact that Grace had
been staying in her home, not five miles
away.
Grace walked into the bouse with an
air of mingled triumph and deprecation.
After the strange greetings were over
Mr. Sylvester, with attempted sternness,
demanded the promised explanation, and
this was the story :
“ The night before my wedding day I
learned, from someone who thought I
already knew it, that Frank was about
to inherit SIOO,OOO upon a strange con
dition. His uncle had died and left that
amount to him, provided he married me
within a year after the testator’s death.
“ I had never seen this uncle, but, as
I learned from my informant, he had
met me by chance in one of the New York
hospitals, and, after taking the trouble
to inquire my name, and no doubt satis
fying himself of the suitability of the
connection, he made up his eccentric
mind that Frank should marry me or
lose a large fortune in the event of dis
obeying his command.
“Now, though I am deeply obliged
for the distinguished honor meant me by
the deceased, I positively decline to be
bartered away to any one at a stated
price.
“It was sufficiently embarrassing to
me to know that the old gentleman was
attracted by a whim of mine, and
mistook it for characteristic virtue. The
fact is, during that winter—my first in
New York—l was seized with a fancy to
vary my round of pleasures by an after’
noon among the sick, to whom I carried
the ever-weloome gift of fruits, and it
was while I was distributing these offer
ings that the matrimonial project oc
curred to Frank’s undo.
Demoted to Industrial Inter st, the hi?fa in el until, the Establishment ©f Justice, aud tb.* Preservation of a People’s Government
INDIAN SPRINGS, GEORGIA.
“ Do you not understand, and can yoa
not sympathize with me? Had I re
mained here, no explanation could
have altered the case, and I should
inevitably have become Frank’s bride,
under conditions alike painful to my
love of truth and self-respect. I have
always declared I would be loved for my
self alone, not for qualities I did not
possess, nor tlie money of a whimsical
old gentleman.”
She drew a long breath as she finished
her recital, and held out her hand with
her own winning frankness.
“ The last week of the year expired
yesterday,” she said, with an unmistak
able sparkle of triumph in her handsome
eyes. “If you take me now, Frank, it
must be all for love. There’s no longer
any money in the question.”
“With all my heart!” cried the in
dulgent lover. “Since you have come
back to me of your own free will, and
have no further objections to make to
our union, I consider myself one of the
happiest and most fortunate cf bride
grooms.”
He caught Grace’s pretty, unreluctant
hand in his and pressed it rapturously
to his lips, with a rmile quite as trium
phant as her own, and a glance whose
intense and mischievous meaning was
not explained until after the quiet wed
ding, at which May Prescott was the
only guest, for Mr. and Mrs. Sylvester’s
prudence and worldly wisdom still con
demned their impulsive daughter’s esca
pade, though their partial tenderness
forgave it.
“You have chosen poverty in prefer
ence to wealth,” they said, “and so must
be content to do without the grand wed
ding we had contemplated.”
Grace submitted with the best, humor
possible; she had tested Frank’s love
and gained her own end, and all was
bright before her inexperienced eyes.
After the wedding, Frank asked his
bride:
“Are you quite satisfied with your
choice of poverty, and glad that your
marriage occurred to day instead of a
week ago? ”
“lam perfectly delighted,” Grace an
swered.
“ Will you take a little wedding gift
from me, as I have not yet presented you
with one? ” Frank asked, meekly.
“ With pleasure,” Grace answered, as
she extended her hand, expecting to re
ceive a jowel case.
But, instead of that, a ponderous legal
document was produced, at which Grace
gazed in blank surprise.
Then Frank explained that, despite
Miss Prescott’s kind interest in their
affairs, the fortune was not lost, as she
had made a slight mistake in dates; and
his uncle’s discernment in selecting so
charming a wife for him had made him
the happiest of men.
May Prescott’s chagrin at the failure
of her conspiracy, and the delight of
Grace’s parents at her good fortune can
easily be imagined.
Grace bore her partial defeat with
charming equanimity, as she was quite
convinced, by some mental process of
her own, that she had her husband’s
love. !So she was reconciled to the pos
session of a fortune I
COMMERCIA L VALUE OV METALS.
The Leadville Index gives the com
mercial value per pound of rare and
common metals, as follows: Indium,
$2,520; vanadium, $2,520; ruthinium,
$1,400 ; rhodium, $700; palladium, $653;
varaium, $576.58; osiniom, $325.28;
iridum, $317.44; gold, $301.46; plat
jnnm, $115.20; thallium, $108.77;
chromium, SSB; magnesium, $56.50;
f otassium, $23; silver, $18.25; cobalt,
$7.75; cadmium, $8; bismuth, $2.63;
sodium, $2.50; fickle, $2.50; mercury,
42 cents ; antimony, 14 cents ; tin, 22
cents; copper, 20 cents; arsenic, 10
cents ; zinc, 6 cents; lead, 5 cents; iron,
2 cents.
ALWAYS WANTED TO HEAR ST.
PAUL.
A lady who was receiving applications
for a vacant position in her household
was waited upon by one of those wan
dering specimens of female humanity
who manage to stay about two weeks in
a place, and consider themselves family
servants. “Where do you go to
church?” the lady inquired.' “I gen
erally go to the same church as the
family,” was the reply. “Where do
you attend, ma’am ?” The lady replied
st. Paul's,” whereupon the would be
servant exclaimed, “ Oh, I have always
w~anted to hear St Paul orach 1”
The wealthy miser lives as a poor man
here, but he must give account as a rich
in the day of judgment.
NOT ON THAT BASIS,
How vain and conceited is the country
publisher who imagines that an advance
circus-agent doesn’t know pretty near
what his circulation is. And how fool
ish and reckless that same agent would
be to pretend that he knew anything
about it. In days gone by, when Joe
Warner, Michigan’s genial circus man*
was on the road as agent, he had the
softest, sweetest way of approaching a
publisher that was ever shown in the
State. He knew within a dozen copies
of what the circulation of each paper
was, and he also knew what a three
column “ad” in this or that sheet would
be worth to his show. One day he en
tered a weekly newspaper office in Eaton
county, shook hands all around, throw
down half a dozen cigars and inquired:
“ Has your circulation increased since
last year ?”
“ Oh, yes—greatly increased.”
** Are you printing double what you
wore last year ?”
“Well—ahem—well, I think we are.”
“ Shall we contract on the basis of
3,000 circulation ?”
“ Yes, I think we’d better. We may
run a few under or over, that’s about the
average.”
Warner knew that the honest figures
were about 650, but he took out a con
tract, filled in some of the blanks, and
said:
“I shall have to look at your mail list.
If you go over 3,0001 must allow you for
a circulation of 4,000.”
“ Oh, never mind that; 3,000 will
do.”
“ But my orders compel me to look at
your list.”
“Yes—well—yes,” stammered the
publisher,as he hunted around among
his exchanges.
“Say, Warner.”
“Well?”
“ I guess you needn't make the con
tract on the basis of 3,000 circulation,
but rather on increased influence
among people who like to see a good
show. It’s too much trouble to find the
lists ! ”
“ Then* I must write in here that you
have a circulation of 1,000 copies.”
“ All right.”
“ And the price will be the same as
last year ? ”
“Yes, I suppose so; but I’ll be
hanged if I don’t circulate plump 6,000
copies on the next patent-medicine man
to mako up for itl” —Detroit Dree
Press .
HARD ON THE MINSTRELS.
I hev bin axed, began Brother Gard
ner, of the Lime Kiln Club, what rela
shun cle negro minstrel troupe b’ars to
de cull’d race. To return an off-hand
answer, I should say dat it b’ars about
the same relashun data hasty puddir.’
does to a SIO,OOO paintin’. If dar’ am
any relashun whatever, I hev neber bin
able to diskiver it. De cull’d mafi may
dance an’ sing, but he nebber trabbles
on his ignorance, nor on de jokes an’
gags of de pas’ ginerasliun. If twenty
cull’d men should put on wigs an’ paint
up to resemble twenty white men, an’
sot down befo’ de public an' ask why an
elephant was like a gimlet, an’ what was
de difference between a clam on de sand
and a sand on de clam, dey would be
hooted off do st age. Yet de public will
see white men disguise deirselves as ne
groes, an’ applaud de gags, an’ jokes, an’
conundrums dat de poorest African in
Detroit would be ashamed to acknowl
edge. If de public hankers fur sich
shows, an’ must hev ’em, let ’em go on,
but doan’ let white folks deceive deir
selves, or be deceived. Continer to call
’em negro minstrel shows, but doan
look fur de negro in ’em. He ain’t dar.
He’s home in de busum of his family,
warmin’ his feet, learnin’ de chillen’ to
read, an’ tellen’ de ole woman dat all
flesh am grass.
A bickering pair of Quakers were
heard in controversy, the husband ex
claiming: “I am determined to have
one quiet week with thee 1 ” “But how
wilt thou bo able to get it ? ” said the
taunting spouse, in that sort of reitera
tion which married ladies so provoking
ly indulge in. “ I will keep thee a week
after thou art dead,” was the Quaker’s
raioinder.
The failure of Mr. Thomas Hughes’
Kugbv colony is announced by the Rug
bean, which says that the venture was
a “fiasco almost before the echoes of
applause over its beginning had died
away.” The location of the settlement
in the wild mountains of Tennessee was
unfortunate, and the men who joined it
were not of a kind to hew success nut of
a forest.
MORPH OMAN IA.
A New Horror Inadvertantly Created by
Scienee.
[From the London Truth.]
When physicians discovered that pain
oould be subdued by inserting under the
skin a small pointed instrument pro
vided with a little tube containing mor
phia, they little thought that they were
paving the way for anew vice. Yet so
it was. There are, in our merry En
gland, beings who are as wholly under
the domination of morphia as ever were
Chinese under that of opium. Women
have yielded by degrees to its fatal
fascination, until at last they prick the
skin a dozen times a day with the tiny
syringe that has such terrible results.
The operation is almost painless; the
immediate effects pleasant. A delicious
languor supervenes. Happy thoughts
and bright imaginations fill the mind.
Some see beautiful visions, others feel
only a pervading sensation of comfort
and well-being. On a few the effect of
morphia is to excite to some intellectual
effort, if effort that can be called, which
is pure delight, a glorious feeling of un
trammeled power or uncrippled exercise
of the highest faculties. It is as though
the mind had suddenly developed wings.
But at the very height of the enchant
ment the influence of morphia begins to
subside. The glory fades, Tiio wings
trail, and the feet that are their sorry
substitues become weighted as with
lead. As with the workers, so with the
dreamers. The visions are obscured.
The sensation of comfort gives place to
one of discomfort, irritation, even pn.ii->.
The mental vision that had just now
looked through a rosy mist see3 all
things as through a crape veil or a No
vember fog. Can it be wondered at that
the dose is renewed, that the poison is
absorbed again and again, that the in
tervals become shorter and shorter be
tween the reign of the potent drug ?
And the end? The punishment is ter
rible indeed. By degrees the mind be
comes darkened. Hideous hallucina
tions seize upon it. Self-control is lost.
Imbecility overtakes the weak. Mad
ness threatens the strong.
These are the personal consequences.
There are others to be bequeathed to
sons and daughters, and later genera
tions. These can be guessed at. Thg
new vice has not reigned sufficiently
long for the world to have seen them
exemplified, but a dark array of possibil
ities suggests itself only too readily.
The heritage of insanity, of inebriety,
of imbecility, with its future to be traced
back to those tiny tubes which hold
a drop or two, and to which men looked
as to a blessed means of relieving pain,
forgetting that blessings and curses go
hand in hand in a crooked world.
Dipsomania has now a powerful rival,
Bpeedier in its results than its own re
volting process, and, eventually, as do
grading. The name of the latter born
sister fiend is Morphomania.
INCOME OF THE MORMON CHURCH.
Wagons loaded with the various prod
ucts of Utah industries are constantly
passing through the gate into the tith
ing house in Salt Lake. The Mormon
law requires that one-tenth of all the
things produced by the labor of the
faithful shall be given to the church,
and the compliance is, in the main,
honest, though attempts at shirking are
occasionally detected.
The annual income from this source k
kept a secret by tho rulers, but has been
estimated as high as $5,000. OCX), and un
doubtedly reaches $3,000,000.
“ It is thought by the Gentiles,” says
a correspondent of the Boston Herald ,
“and intimated by the saints them
selves, that a portion of the tithing fund
has been employed, and very effectively,
in securing favorable legislation in the
national Congress. The departed Brig
ham was wont to speak very contempt
uously of Congress, boasting that he
cared nothing for it, because he could
influence its votes with money whenever
he deemed it desirable. And there ia
reason to think that his boast was not
wholly idle.”
RUNNING OP THEATERS.
It is on record in Germany that in the
past 272 years new fewer than 523
theaters have been burned down in
various parts of the world. This is an
average of nearly two per year. During
the past century there was a large in
crease in the percentage over the pre
ceding time. For the hundred years
the total number was 460, or more than
four-fifths of the total for the 272 years.
For the period included between 1771
and 1828 the average was thirteen per
annum.
SUB3Gf?iPTIOK‘-s!.§?.
NUMBER 34.
PLEA SANTRIES.
Company front —A false shirt-bosem.
A fool and an accordion are both
easily drawn out.
A successful debater—The hornet al
ways carries his point.
Some men are like the moon. They
get lull once in about so often.
The telephone has developed an en
tirely new school for hello-cution.
Tiie plumber, unlike the water-pipe
on which he thrives, never busts up.
A Vassab College girl, upon being
asked if she liked codfish balls said she
never attended -any.
A mailed knight must have required
a good many postage-stamps to carry
him through successfully.
If a man knew as much about himself
as he does about his neighbors he would
never spefik to himself.
“Generous to a fault” may be said of
many men. At least, they are generous
enough to their own faults.
Because he was mashed to the last,
and Farragut was lashed to the mast.
We have forgotten the conundrum.
A New Yobh man sold his wife to a
neighbor for a dollar. Some men seem
to tako delight in swindling their neigh
bors.
A reporter, in describing a railway
disaster, says : “ This unlooked-for ac
cident came upon the community un
awares. ”
Hens scratch up flower-beds only
when they are barefooted. That’s why
women run out and “shoo” the hens
to keep them from doing damage.
When a child cannot answer a ques
tion he never says, “ Oh, don’t bother
me now, I’m busy.” Only children of
i larger growth deal in such subter
fuges.
“Youare weak,” said a woman to her
son, who was remonstrating against her
marrying again. <f Yes, mother,” he re
plied, “lam so weak that I can’t go a
stepfather.”
“ There ! ” triumphantly exclaimed a
Deadwood editor, as a bullet came
through the window and shattered the
inkstand, “I knew that new ‘Personal’
column would be a success.”
“ The bees are swarming, and there’s
no end to them,” said Farmer Jones,
coming into the house. His little boy
George camo in a second afterward and
said there was an end to one of ’em,
anyhow, and it was red-hot too.
At an all-niglit restaurant a gentle
man, who is much fatigued, falls against
another guest and upsets a water-decant
er over him. “Scush me 1” said the
party of the first part, in a voice husky
with emotion, but fac’ isli I’m lill ab
shent — ” “The fact, sir,” replies the
other with severity, “ is that you weren’t
absent enough !”—From the French.
An American, who started to ride
from Colima to Manzanillo was stopped
on the highway by a well-armed bandit.
“ Pardon, senor,” exclaimed the latter,
“ but I perceive that you have my coat
on. Will you have the kindness to re
move it ?” The American produced a
six-shooter, and, cocking it, said : “Se
nor, I am cf the opinion that you are
mistaken about that coat.” “Oncloser
observation, I perceive that I am,” the
bandit answered, and disappeared in the
wood.
Ah, well! I’ll put the tress away
Ia this old escritoire;
Last time we met your hair was gray, .4
And now—we meet no more.
Above your grave the grasees mingle,
And I am forty, fat and single.
Mournful effect of slang: Mrs,
Loveapple bought anew dress. It was
poult de soie of a delicate grass-green.
To match the dress she had a pair of
boots. They were also poult de soie of
a delicate grass-green. Inspired with
the idea of pleasing her husband, she
daintily lifted the hem of her garment,
and displayed a foot worthy of Cinde
rella. “What do you think of that,
dear?” she tenderly asked her liege
ord. “ Immense!” innocently re
sponded the partner of her life.—Man
chester Times.
AN Irish coachman at Washington,
who sow Oscar Wilde, was asked what
he looked like. “Be jabbers, he looked
like a 1 big boy with his little brother s
pants Ion,” was the reply, and the de
scription is said to be a good one.
an the Vienna disaster a girl of 18 lost
her father, mother, sister, brother-in
law and her betrothed in the fire. She
returned to the burning house twice in
search of them, and at last jumped from
the iront tuiieony into the street and was
killed,