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“JOSEPH’S BROTHKR.’’-A TALE.
BY BRET HART.
They didn’t call him Torn, or Jack, or
Harry', but always spoke ol him as ” Jo
seph's Brother." And it was just as Angu
lar that they didn’t say “ Joe, ’ instead ot
“ Joseph," when speaking of or to the man.
The two had a wagon m the hand drag
ging itself toward the Black llills dav by
day and mile by mile. I hey messed bv
themselves, scarcely spoke except to each
other and their lives and their actions were
a sort of mvstery to the rest, who were a
j o ]ly set, 'drinking, carousing, lighting,
playing cards, and wishing for a brush with
the'lndians. Some said that Joseph was a
fugitive from justice, and that he wouldn't
fraternise with them for fear of betraying
himself when interrogated. Others thought
he felt too proud to mix with such society,
and between the two theories he had nearly
all the men thinking ill of him before the
wagon train was four days’ travel from
Cheyenne.
‘•Ho keeps bis brother hidden away in
the wagon as if a little sunshine would kill
the boy,” growled one of a dozen gold
hunters sitting around their cainp lire in
the twilight.
•‘ Perhaps he thinks our language isn't
high-toned enough—blast his eyes !” ex
claimed another.
“ Ain’t we all bound to the same place
—all sharing the same dangers—one as
good as another!” demanded a broad
shouldered fellow from San Antonio.
“ Yes, yes !" they shouted.
“ Then don't it look low-down mean for
this ’ere man Joseph to edge away from us
as if we were pizen? If he’s so mighty re
lined and high toned, why didn’t he come
out here in a balloon ?’’
There was a laugh from the circle, and
the Texan went on—
“ I don’t pertend to be an angel, but I
know manners as well as the next. I be
lieve that man is regular starch, ready to
wilt right down as soon as 1 pint my linger
at him, and I’m goin’ over to his wagon to
pull his nose !”
“That’s the game, Jack ! Go in, old
fellow ! ’Rah for the man from Texas !”
yelled the gold hunters, as they sprang to
their feet.
“ Come right along and see the fun,”
continued the Texan, as he led the way to
wards Joseph's wagon.
The vehicle formed one in the circle, and
at a small tire a few feet from the hind
wheels sat Joseph and his brother, eating
their frugal supper. As the crowd came
near, the hoy sprang up and climbed into
the covered wagon, while Joseph slowly
rose up and looked at them anxiou.slj* and
inquiringly.
“See here, Mister Joseph what's-your
other-name !” began the Texan, as he halt
ed before the lone man, we have come to
the conclusion that you and that,booby
o’ yours don’t like our style ! Are
r-<e kerect?”
“ I have nothing against anv of you,”
quietly replied Joseph. “The journey
thus far has been very pleasant and agree
able to us.”
“ But you hang ofF—you don’t speak to
us !” persisted Jack.
“ I feel sorry if I have incurred any man's
ill will. 1 feel friendly towards you all.”
“Oh, you do, eh?” sneered the Texan,
feeling that he was losing ground. “ Well,
it's my opinion that you are a sneak !”
Joseph's face turned white, and the men
saw a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He
seemed about to speak or make some move
ment when a soft voice from the wagon
called out—
“ Joseph, Joseph !”
A soft light came into the man's face.
The Texan noticed it, and, slapping Jo
seph's face, he blurted out —
“ If ye ain't a coward ye’ll resent that,
sure!”
A boyish figure sprang from the wagon
and stood beside the lone man. A small
hand was laid on his shoulder, and a voice
whispered in his ear —
“ Bear the insult for my sake !”
There was a full minute in which no one
moved. Joseph's face looked ghostly
white in the gloom, and they could see him
tremble.
“He’s a coward just as I thought!”
said the Texan as lie turned away. The
others followed him, some feeling ashamed
and others surprised or gratified, and soon
the word had reached every wagon that
Joseph and Joseph’s brother were cow
ards.
Next morning, when the wagon train was
ready to move, the captain passed near
Joseph’s wagon on purpose to say.
“If there are any cowards in this train,
they needn't travel with us anv further.
It was a cruel thrust. Joseph was
harnessing his horses, and the brother was
stowing away the cooking utensils. The
strange man’s face grew very white
and his hand went down for his revolver,
but just then a voice called out —
“Don’t mind it Joseph; we’ll go on
alone.”
The train moved off without them, some
of the gold hunters taunting and joking,
and others fearful that the two would be
butchered by the Indians before the day
was over. When the wagons were so far
away that they seemed no larger than his
hand, Joseph moved along on the trail, his
face stern and tlark, and so busy with his
thoughts that he did not hear the consoling
-words—
“ Never mind, Joseph ; we are trying to
do right.” .
That night, when the wagon train of the
gold hunters came into camp, they could
hot see the lone wagon, though many of
the men, ashamed of their conduct, looked
long and earnestly for it. They had seen
Indians afar off. and they knew that the
red devils would pounce down upon a sin
gle team as soon as they sighted it.
Darkness came; midnight came, and the
sentinels heard nothing hut the stamping
of the horses, and the howls of the coyotes.
At two o’clock the reports of rifles and the
fierce yells of Indians floated through the
valley, and the camp was aroused in a mo
ment.
“ The devils have jumped in on Joseph
$1.50 A YEAR.
and his brother!” whispered one of the
men, as he stood on a knoll and bent his
head to listen,
“Good ’nuff! Cowards have ho busi
ness out here !” growled the Texan.
The first speaker wheeled, struck the
ruffian a sledge-hammer blow in the face,
and then, running for the horses, cried out,
“ Come on ! come on ! A dozen of us
can be spared for the rescue !”
Sixteen men swept down the valley like
the wind. The firing and the veiling con
tinued. proving that the man who had been
called a coward was making a heroic tight.
In ten minutes they came upon the one
camp, made light as day by the burning
wagon. Fifty feet from the bonfire, and
hemmed in by a circle of dancing, leaping,
howling savages, was Joseph’s hr ther
standing over Joseph's dead body.* The
gold hunters heard the pop ! pop ! pop ! of
the boy’s revolver as they burst into view,
and the next moment they were charging
down upon the demons, using rille and re
volver with terrible effect. In two minutes
not a live Indian was in sight. Joseph’s
brother stood over the body, an empty re
volver in his hand. The men cheered wild
ly as they looked around, but the bo_v
looked up into their faces without sign of
exultation, or gladness.
There were three dead Indians beside
the wagon, killed where the tight com
menced, and the corpses in front of Jo
seph’s brother numbered more than the
victims of the sixteen men.
“ Is Joseph badly hurt?" asked one of
the men, as he halted his horse beside the
boy.
“He is dead 1” whispered the white
faced defender.
“Heis ! God forgive me for the part I
took last night!”
“ You called him a coward !” cried Jo
seph's brother, “ and you are to blame for
this! Was he a coward? Look there!
and there ! and there ! We drove them
back from the wagon—drove them clear
out here ! Joseph is dead. You are his
murderers !”
Every man was near enough to hear his
voice and to note his action as he picked
up the rifle of an Indian and sent a bullet
through his own head. With exclamations
of grief and alarm trembling on their bps.
the men sprang from their saddles. Ihe
boy was dead—dead as Joseph—and both
corpses were bleeding from a dozen wounds.
“We’ll carry ’em up to the train and
have a burial in the morning,” said one of
the men, and the bodies were taken up be
hind two of the horsemen. They did have
a burial, and the men looked into the grave
with tears in their eyes, for they had dis
covered that Joseph’s brother was a wo
man—yes, a woman with the whitest throat
and softest hands. It might have been
Joseph’s wife, or sister, or sweetheart. No
one could tell that; but they could tell
how they had wronged him and they said,
as they stood around the grave—
“ We hope the Lord won’t lay it up agin
us !”
A Cure lor I>i|illieria.
Dr. Chencry of Boston has lately dis
covered that hyposulphite of soda is the
specific remedy against diptheria —that so
much dreaded ailment, which of late years
has carried off many valuable lives. He
reports a very large number of cases (one
hundred and fifty-eight within his own
practice) saved by the use of this remedy.
The dose of the hyposulphite is from four
to fifteen grains or more in syrup, every
two to four hours, according to age and
circumstances. It can do no harm, but if
too much is given it will purge : as much
as the patient can bear without purging is
a good rule in the severer cases. The so
lution or mixture can be used in doses of
five drops to half a drachm in milk. The
amount for thorough stimulation is greater
than can be taken in water. The doctor
usually gives it in such doses as can be
easily taken in milk, using milk besides as
a food for small children. One fact, how
ever needs to be borne in mind, namely, the
hyposulphte prevents the digestion of milk,
anu it should not be given in less than an
hour after taking the medicine. They may
be used alternately, however, without in
terference, in sufficiently frequent doses.
The Newspaper as a Civilizer.
Philip Gilbert Hamilton, in his admira
ble papers on “Intellectual Life,” thus
talks of “ the paper “Newspapers are
to the civilized world what the daily house
talk is to the members of the family—they
keep our daily interest in each other, they
save us from the evils of isolation. To live
as a member of the great white race that
has filled Europe and America and colo
nized or conquered whatever territory it
has pleased to occupy, to share from day
to day its thought, its cares, its inspiration,
it is necessary that every man should read
his paper. Why are the French peasants
so bewildered and at sea? It is because
they never read a newspaper. And why
are the inhabitants of the United States,
though scattered over a territory fourteen
times the area of France, so mnch more ca
pable of concert action, so much more alive
and modern, so much more interested in
new discoveries of all kinds and capable of
selecting and utilizing the best of them ?
It is because the newspapers penetrate
everywhere, and even the lonely dweller
on the prairie or the forest is not intellect
ually isolated from the great currents of
public life which flow through the tele
graph and press.
HARTWELL, (JA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 23, 1877.
lVmiion mid Wine.
Pop ! wont the ga f v cork flying,
Sparkled the bright champagne.
By the light of a day that was dying,
He filled up the goblets again.
“ Let the last, best toast be woman,
Woman, dear woman,” said he :
“ Empty your glass, my darling,
When you drink to yoursex with me.”
But she caught his strong brown fingers,
And held them tight as in fear.
And through the gathering twilight
Her foml voice fell on his ear.
“ Nay, ere you drink. 1 implore you,
By all that you hold divine,
Pledge a woman in tear-drops,
Rather by far than m wine.
“ By the woes of the drunkard's mother,
By his children who beg for bread,
By the fate of her whose beloved one
Looks on the wine when *tis red,
By the kisses changed to curses,
By the tears more bitter than brine,
By many a fond heart broken,
Pledge no woman in wine.
“ What has wine brought to woman?
Nothing but tear, and pain.
It has torn from hey arms her lover
And proven her j Tayers in vain.
And her houf,eholu gods, all shattered,
Lie tangled up in the vine,
Oh, 1 prithee, pledge no woman,
In the curse of so many, wine.”
More in llie Man than in the I.and.
I knowed a man, which he lived in Jones,
Which Jones is a county of red hills and
stones.
And he lived pretty much by gettin’ of
loans,
And his mules were nothin’ but skin and
bones,
And his hogs was fiat as his corn bread
pones,
And he had ’bout a thousand acres o’
land.
This man—which his name it was also
Jones—
He swore he’d leave them old red hills and
stones.
Fur he couldn’t make nutin’ but yellerish
co”on,
Arm rAV.v T*... vandJAa fviices-W.’.rdDdten,
And what little corn he had, hit was
bough ten.
And danged ef a livin’ was in the land.
And the longer lie swore the madder he got.
And he riz and he walked to the stable and
lot,
And he hollered to Tom to come there and
hitch,
For to emigrate somewhar whar land was
rich,
And to quit raisin’ cock-burs, thistles and
sich.
And wastin’ ther time on the cussed land.
So him and Tom they hitched up the mules,
Pertestin' that folks was mighty big fools
That ’ud stay in Georgy ther lifetime out,
Jest scratchin’ a livin’ when all of ’em
mought
Git places in Texas whar cotton would
sprout
By the time you could plant in the land.
And he driv by a house whar a man named
Brown <
Was a livin’ not far from the hedge o’
town,
And he bantered Brown for to buy his
place,
And said that bein’ as money was skace,
And bein’ as sheriff’s was hard to face,
Two dollars an acre would git the land.
They closed at a duller and fifty cents,
And Jones he bought him a wagon and
tents,
And loaded his corn, and his wimmin and
truck,
And moved to Texas, which it tuck
Ilis entire pile, with the best of luck.
To git thar and git him a little land.
But Brown moved out on the old Jones
farm,
And he rolled up his breeches and bared
his arm,
And he picked all the rocks from off'n the
groun’,
And he rooted it up and plowed it down,
Then he plowed liis corn and his wheat
in the land.
Five years glid by. and Brown, one day.
(Which he’d got so fat that he wouldn’t
weigh).
Was a settin’ down, sorter lazily,
To the bulliest dinner you ever see,
When one o’ the children jumped on his
knee
And says, “ yan’s Jones, which you
bought his land.”
And thar was Jones, standin' out at the
fence,
And he hadn’t no wagin, nor mules, nor
tents,
For he had left Texas, afoot and cum
To Georgy to see if he couldn’t git sum
Employment, and he was looking as hum-
Ble as ef he had never owned any land.
But Brown he axed him in, and he sot
Him down to his vittles smokin’ hot,
And when he had filled hisself and the
floor,
Brown looked at him sharp and riz and
swore
That, “ whether men’s land was rich or
poor
Thar was more in the MAN than thar
was in the LAND.”
Tli Aiik'iklii Kail road Mcctlnir.
A mlf non (S. C.) IntMigenctr, IVh in*/.
The meeting held in Augusta last week
in the interest of Augusta and Knoxville
Railroad was very well attended by dele
gates from South Carolina, Georgia, North
Carolina and Tennessee, but of all the
ridiculous farces ever enacted by a deliber
ative body, (and some of the previous con
ventions of this proposed road have been
very great farces.) the proceedings of this
Convention entitle it to pre-eminence. The
city of Augusta had sixty delegates, which
was a controlling vote in the Convention,
and other counties of Georgia were also
represented by good-sized delegations, so
that we might sum up the character of the
body by saying that it was intensely Geor
gian in its objects and action. Everything
about the Convention, even to the details
of appointing committees and so forth, w as
cut and dried before it assembled, nml upon
the day of meeting they went through the
pre-arranged programme almost without u
ripple of difference of opinion finding ex
pression in their proceedings.
These proceedings, which are sketched in
another column, will no doubt amuse every
reader who is acquainted with the difficul
ties of building railroads. If resolutions
can complete them, the recent gathering in
Augusta has made a railroad ; nut, if it re
quires anything more substantial, the con
struction of the Augusta and Knoxville
Railroad will have to be provided for by
some other body. Tt is indeed remarkable
that a meeting of delegates to an informal
Convention should unaeitake to locate the
line of a railroad for the building of which
there was no organized company, and for
which no actual stock has been subscribed.
No doubt the delegates from the West
think Charleston has been inactive. We
all agree with them upon that point, but it
furnishes no reason why they should have
made themselves ridiculous by locating the
road before forming a company or ascer
taining what support they could receive on
the different routes. We believe the ac
tion of this Convention will come to naught,
and that the people of South Carolina
should proceed at once to organize practi
cally to secure the location and construc
tion of a road to run from Port Royal and
Aiken to the ltahun Gap, at which point
it would no doubt meet t)ie road from
KntrxviKc And become the Great Trunk
Line.
A Heretical Pastor.
Rev. John Miller, of the New Bruns
wick, New* Jersey, Presbytery, has been
on trial for the past week for publicly de
nying and assailing important doctrines of
the confession of faith and the catechisms
of the church. He was convicted by the
unanimous vote of the Presbytery and
suspended. There were many Princeton
theological students present at the trial,
and it was noticed that they frequently ap
plauded the accused while he was speaking
in his own defence. His belief w r as sum
marized as follows :
First. That there is no warrant either
in the Bible or reason for the doctrine of
immortality, but that men dead, will slum
ber in their grave until the resurrection
morn, and that all w ill be awakened to re
view life under different conditions.
Second. That Jesus of Nazareth was a
descendent of Adam and of David, not
without sinfulness of the liesh, inherent in
his forefathers, but though the miraculous
conception of the Virgin Mary, incarnated
with the spirit of God. and thus enabled to
withstand the temptation to which men
give way. That in his death he opened
a pathway for the redemption of the races.
Third. That there is no Trinity, but one
God, the Spirit which made the Savior of
God, and that the term Holy Ghost is a
mere rhetorical expression for the Spirit of
God, and synonymous with God himself.
Cliii'ki'ii Uliolcra.
Home dc Farm.
There lias been a great deal said about
chicken cholera of late years, and no cer
tain remedy has been found. I will give
your readers a certain cure for it, or at
least it cures my fowls in every case, and
is also a preventive. If you find your
fowls are sick give them pills made of corn
meal mixed w ith soft soap three times a
day. Keep plenty of strong wood ashes in
their drinking-vessels; change three or
four times a week, and feed them once or
twice a week on corn dough mixed with
soft soap and a small quantity of soda;
also add a very little salt, and you will find
you will have no diseased fowls. I treat
my turkeys the same way, and they are
always fine and free from disease, ft
cleanses them, and keeps them perfectly
healthy. I have had no cholera for three
years, and this is my mode of treatment.
You say Consumption cannot be cured.
It can, by this new principle, new way,
Dr. J. H. McLean's Cough and Lung
Healing Globules. The healing gas gene
rated when sucking them being inhaled,
stop tubercula irritation and cure Coughs,
Colds, Hoarseness, Consumption or any
diseases Throat or Lung. Trial Boxes, by
mail. 25 cents. Dr. J. H. McLean's office,
314 Chestnut Street, St. Louis, Mo.
A preacher said “Every tub must stand
on its own bottom.” A sailor jumped up,
and said, “ But sir, suppose it has no bot
tom ?” “ Then it’s no tub,” returned he,
quickly, and went on with the sermon,
NOW SHE KNOWS ALL ABOUT IT.
How IHinilj Tried In l.carn About
Politic*, mikl Ml Lad found Out.
Miss Dimity known all about it now.
She languished a lon* time in ignorance,
and felt ner situation keenly, hut at last she
is wiser and sadder. She always wanted
to belong to some party; but how could
she, when she did not even know the dif
ference between a Democrat and a Repub
lican? She looked anxiously through nil
the papers to gain information on the sub
ject, but tho only plain statement she
found w as, that the Democrats are all liars
and swindlers, and the Republicans all
thieves and scoundrels.
Finally she asked her papa about it, and
ho looked at her over his spectacles, and
said:
“ A Democrat, my dear child, is— By
the-way, you left lumps in the heel of my
stockings when you darned them last week.
Girls nowadays are good for nothing.”
Then she asked her big brother, and ho
said :
“ That's easy—nsk me a harder ono. A
Democrat supports the Government as
long ns the Government supports him, and
a Republican lets no guilty man escape un
til he lias crammed all his pockets and tho
crown of his hat.”
She next asked her sweetheart, but ho
turned pale, and, falling hack on his chair,
fanned himself furiously while he gasped :
“ Emily, my love, l hope you are not
getting strong-minded. I could not think
of marrying n woman who knows more
than I—than other women.”
Next she asked a wise and learned man,
he looked pompously at her, and said :
“Too deep, my uear—too deep—differ
ence in the platforms—very complicated
subject—could never explain it to a wo
man. In fact, it's so deep, that I don’t
exactly under—all, believe you could un
derstand it.”
Then she went to an Editor. They
always know everything. It is a peculiari
ty of the profession. They can get up a
theory of, explanation of, or remedy for,
anything inside of forty-five seconds. She
asked him with suffused eyes if he would
please tell her the difference between a Re
publican and a Democrat. He looked a
little startled at first, stuck his pen into
the glue-pot, tumbled a pitch or of ice water
over a pile of exchanges, and was “himself
again.” He said :
“ A Republican has an office and wants
to keep it. He thinks rag money good,
hard money better, but cither kind good
enough, lie thinks the country needs re
form, salaries are too low, and tho people
too inquisitive. He cannot buy a two thou
sand dollar team of horses on a salary of
fifteen hundred dollars a year, but somo
one! must ask impertinent (mentions. llis
country is dear to him, but ne is dearer to
liis country. A Democrat has no office,
and wants one; he scorns to ask whether
the nnlneyis hard only gasps,
‘llovv much?’ Ho thinks the country
needs reform; lie wants an office and
change in his pockets; he holds his coun
try’s honor above price, and sells his own
to the highest bidder; he—”
But Miss Dimity put her hands over her
ears, and cried :
“ Please tell me the name of the other
party to which honest men and patriots
belong.”
Then that Editor laughed an inhuman
laugh, and said :
“ Long ago, they took a lantern when
they wanted to find an honest man : you
had better borrow half a dozen headlights
and a garden rake and go and look for that
lost party. However, if you are a true
patriot, you will work for the Republicans,
for they all have cottages at Long Branch
and villas in Washington and Paris, and
are pretty well supplied with funds. But
the Democrats have been out a long time,
their money is all gone, and their villas are
mortgaged. It will he a dreadful strain on
the Treasury, and—”
Miss Dimity did not wait for more. And
now when any one talks politics in her
presence she listens with that benign sad
ness born of superior wisdom.
Sionielliinif to Keiiic-mlier.
A story is told of a Yankee who, travel
ing in the back districts of Georgia, sought
shelter from a “ northeaster ” in the cabin
of a “native.” He was welcomed to tho
ample fireside around which were gathered
the Georgian with his wife and numerous
family. In vain were the gum logs piled
upon the hearth, while through onen doors
and windows eatne the pitiliess blast. The
stranger took in the situation at a glance,
and soon made everything fast. As the
genial glow spread through the now snug
cabin, the circle around the hearth expand
ed, and the bewildered but delighted host
asked :
“Say, stranger, how did you do that?”
“ l simply closed the doors and windows,
as we do at the North," was the reply.
“Is that all ? Now, old woman, remem
ber that next time.”
NUMBER 39.
Twenty-three States have Democratic
Governors. There is a Democratic major
ity in the House. The Senate is nearly
equally divided, and in two years will be
controlled by the Democrats. There is a
white majority of more than a million of
Democrats in the United States, and an ab
solute majority of a quarter of a million.
A Republican who was not elected Presi
dent, holds the office through fraud. A
hundred thousand Republicans hold the
minor Federal offices through the same
fraud. This is the political situation in a
nutshell, and it is well to remember the
leading facts.
The story is told that a certain Irishman
who heard Fred Douglas make a speech,
was carried off his feet by the power which
“ the nagur,” as he called him, displayed.
Being told by a companion to “Shut up, be
kasc the fellow is only half a nagur, d'ye
see?” the Irishman retorted: “Be jabers,
if a man that’s only half a nagur can talk
like that, I’m thinsin’ that a whole nagur
would bate the prophet Jeremiah I”