Newspaper Page Text
MRS. RKIHt.'K’ t'LKRK.
PV MARY KYI.U DALLAS.
lie was a tall, thin, starved-looking
Ihjv. with a little jacket, the sleeves of
which crept half-way up his arms, ami
x hat that was nothin”; hut a brim; awl
when she first saw him he was eat in;; a
crust out of a {fitter. She was only a
Imk# old woman who kept a little shop
for candy and trimmings, and poor
enough licfsolf, heaven knew ; hut, as
she said, he looked a little like what her
Tom Riigld if he had grown up and
been neglected, and she couldn't stand
it. She called to him :
• Come here, sonny,’ said she. and
the bov came. He fore she could speak
lie said:
• I didn't do it. I'll take my oath on
anything I didn’t do it. 1 ain't so
mean.’
‘ Didn't do what?’ said the old wo
man,
'break your winder,' said the boy,
nodding his head toward a shattered
pane.
‘Why. I broke that myself with my
shutter last night,’ said the old woman.
‘ I’m not strong enough to lift ’em, that's
the fact. I'm getting old.’
‘ If I'm round here when you shut up,
I'll come and do it for you,' said the
boy ; • I'd just as soon. What was that
you called me for?'
‘ I wanted to know what you eat that
dry crust out of the gutter for,' said
she,
• Hungry,’ said lie ; ‘ I've tried to get
a job all day. I'm going to sleep in an
area over thereafter it gets too dark for
the policemen to see, and you can’t
have a good night's sleep without some
supper, if it is dirty.’
‘ I'll give your some that's cleaner,’
said the old woman,
‘ That will be begging,’ said lie.
‘ No,’ said she, ‘ you can sweep the
shop and the pavement, and put up the
shutters for it.’
‘ Very well,’ said he. ‘ Thankee, then.
If I sweep ui) first I'll feel better.’
Accordingly' she brought him a broom
and he did his work well. Afterward
he ate his supper with a relish. That
night he slept, not in tiie area, but un
der the old woman's counter.
He had told his story. His name
was Dick; he was twelve years old,
and his father, whom he had never seen
sober, was in prison for life.
The antecedents were not elevating
lmt the boy seemed good. The next
morning the old woman engaged a clerk
lor Itjsr small establishment. The terms
were simple—liis ‘living and :i bc<l un
der the counter.’ When the neighlxns
lieard of it they were shocked.
A street boy—a boy whom no one
knew! Did Mrs. Briggs really wish to
be murdered in her bed! Hut Mrs.
Briggs felt quite safe. She had .so much
time now that she was going to take in
sewing. Dick attended to t lie shop al
together. lie kept it in fine order,and
increased the business by introducing
(candies, dates on sticks, and chewing
gum. Pennies came in as they never
came in before since lie hud painted
signs in red and blue ink to the effect
that the real old molasses candy was
to be got there, and that this was the
place for peanuts.
And in the evening, after the shop
was shut up, she began to take him into
tier confidence. Her great dream was
to buy herself into a certain Home for
the Aged. She had saved three years,
and had fifteen of it. l'.ut it cost so
much to live, with tea twenty-five cents
a quarter, and loaves so small, and she
had been sick, and there was the doc
tor, and Mrs. Jones' Martha Jane to be
paid i'or minding her at the shop. Af
ter this Dick took the greatest interest
in the savings, and the winter months
increased them as though he had brought
a blessing.
One night in spring they took the bag
from under the pillow and counted what
it held. It was thirty dollars.
‘ And I’ll begin to make kites to
morrow, Mrs. Briggs, said the boy, ‘and
you’ll see the custom that will bring.
If a little shaver secs them, he'll spend
all lie has for one, and then lie'll coax
liis mother for more to by the stick
dates and chewing gum. I understand
boys.’
• You are a clever boy yourself,’ said
the old woman patting his head.
It was a plumper hand than it had
been when it picked the crusts from the
gutter, though they were very coarse.
* How wrong the neighbors were,’ she
said, ‘ That boy is the comfort of my
life.’
So she went to bed with the treasure
,r;Ti gjier pillow and slept, Far on in
■jjtofirthsbc awakened. The room
/
Vo!i. 11--NO. 11.
• Wlk> is that?’ she cried.
There was no answer, but she felt
that someone was loaning over her lied.
Then a hand clasped her throat and
held her down, ami dragged out the
bag of money and she was released.
Half suffocated, she for a moment
found herself motionless and bewilder
ed, conscious only of a draught of air
from an open door, and of some con
fused noises.
Then she sprang to the door and hur
ried into the shop.
‘Dick! Dick!’ she cried. ‘Dick!
help, wake up ! I'm robbed !’
lint there was no answer; the door
into the street was wide open, and by
the moonlight that poured through it
she saw, as she peered under the coun
ter, that Dick's bed was empty. The
boy was gone.
Gone! gone? Oh. that was worse to
poor Granny Briggs than even the loss
of the money ; for she had trusted him,
and lie had deceived her. She had
loved him and he had abused her love.
The neighbors were right she was a fool
to trust a strange street boy, and had
been served rightly when he had robbed
her.
When the dawn broke the wise neigh
bors came into poor Granny’s shop to
find her crying and rocking to and fro ;
and they told her they had told her so.
she only shook her head. The shop
took care of itself that day. Life had
lost its interest for her. Her ‘occu
pation was gone,’ but not with her
savings. Money was tint money, lifter
all he had come to be the only thing
she loved, and Dick had robbed bar.
It was ten o’clock, Granny sat moan
ing by the empty hearth. Hood matured
Mrs. Jones from up-stairs was 1 seeing
to things,' and trying to cheer her.
when suddenly there came a rap at the
door, and a policeman looked in.
‘ Mrs. Briggs?’ he said.
‘ Here she is,' said Mrs. Jones.
‘ Yes, I'm that wretched critter,' said
Mrs. Briggs.
* Someone wants to sec you at head
quarters,’ said the policeman. ‘ There's
a hoy there and some money."
‘Dick!’ cried Airs. Briggs. ‘ Oh, I
can’t bear to look at him !’
But Mrs. Jones had already tied on
her bonnet, and wrapped her in a shawl,
and taken her on her arm.
‘ The wretch !’ she said. ‘ I’m so
glad he's caught. You'll get your
money hack.’
And she led Mrs. Briggs along—poor
Mrs. Briggs, who cried all the way, and
cared nothing for the money. And soon
they were at their destination, then,
and not before, the policeman turned to
the two women.
‘ He's pretty bad,' he said. ‘ They’ll
carry him to the hospital in an hour. I
suppose you are prepared for that. He's
nearly beaten to death, you know.’
‘ Did you beat him, you cruel wretch?’
said Mrs. Briggs. ‘ I wouldn't have
had that done for twice the money. Let
him go with it, if it's any comfort to
him.’
‘ I beat him !’ said the man. ‘ Well,
women have the stupidest heads. Why
If I hadn't got up when he did, he'd
have been dead. He held the bag of
money tight, and the thief was pommel
ing him with a loaded stick; and the
pluck lie had for a little shaver—l tell
you, I never saw the like !’
‘'k ou .shan’t take Granny’s money
from me,’ says he, ‘and fought like alit-
tiger. If it’s your money, old lady,
he s given his life for it, for all I know.’
Then poor old Mrs. Briggs clasped
her hands and cried:
‘Oh, Dick! Dick! I knew you were
good. I must have been crazy to doubt
you,’ and then she wrung her hands and
cried: ‘Oh, Dick, for just a paltry hit
of money !’ and so she knelt beside the
pale still face upon the pillow and kissed
it, and called it tender names.
And Dick, never guessing her suspi
cions of him, whispered :
‘ I was so afraid he’d get off’ with it if
he killed me, Granny, and you were in
such high hopes last night.’
He did not know what she meant by
begging him to forgive her. It would
have killed him if he had, for he was
very near death.
But Dick did not die. He got well
at last and came back to the littleshop;
and though Granny Briggs had her
HARTWELL, o.\„ WEDNESDAY. NOVEMBER 7, 1877.
savings, she never went U> the Old J>a
dis’ Home; for long before she dual
Dick was one of the most prosperous
nieicliants in the city, and his handsome
home was Iters ; and she was happy in it.
No Fail in Mini.
Jfctroif Free I'res*.
One of the members of the Metho
dist conference recently held here, was
out for a walk at an early hour one
morning, and while on Howard street
lie encountered a strapping big fellow,
who was drawing a wagon to the black
smith shop.
‘Catch hold hero and help me down
to the shop with this wagon and I’ll
buy the whisky.' called the Dig fellow.
‘ I never drink,' solemnly replied the
good man.
‘ Well, you can take a cigar.’
• I never smoke.’
The man dropped t Ik* wagon-tongue,
looked hard at the member and asked:
‘ Don't you chew?”
‘ No, sir,' was the decided reply.
•You must get mighty lonesome,’
mused the teamster.
‘ I guess I'm all right—l feel first
rate.’
‘ I'll bet. you even that I tain lay you
on your back,’ remarked the teamster.
• Coma now, let’s warm up a little.’
‘ 1 never bet.’
‘ Well let's take each other down for
fun, then. You are as big as I am, and
I'll give you the undcrliold.’
‘ 1 never have fun,’ solemnly answer
ed the member.
‘ Well, I'm going to tackle you any
way. Here we go!’
The teamster slid up and endeavored
to get a neck-hold, but he had only just
commenced to fool about when be was
lifted clear oil' the grass and slammed
against a tree-box with such force that
lie gasped half a dozen times before lie
could get his breath.
‘A'ow, you keep away from me?' ex
claimed the minister, picking up his
cane.
* Bust me if I don't, replied the
teamster as he edged otf. 4 What’s the
use in lying in and saying you didn't
have any fun in you, when you're chuck
full of it! Blame it! you wanted to
break my neck, didn't you! You just
hang around here about five minutes,
you old Texan you, and I'll bring on a I
feller who'll cave in your head.'
‘ I never hang,' said the minister, as
he sauntered on, and the teamster
leaned on his wagon and mused.
Blunt But True.
There is sai l to be a young man in
the Missouri penitentiary, whose pa
rents, at their death, left him a fortune
of $/>(),000. There is where liis parents
made a fatal mistake. If they had
taken the precaution to invest that
sum in a small dog and shot him, and
then had simply left the young man a
jack-plane or a wood saw, with printed
instructions how to use it, the chances
are, that instead of being in the peni
tentiary, he would to-day have been
gradually but surely working his way
up to a handsome competency and an
honorable old age. But ever since the
days of Adam and Eve, parents have
made it a point to struggle and toil all
their lives in order to realize a suffi
cient sum of money to purchase, when
they are dead and gone, their sons
each a first class through ticket to the
devil, and it is not much to he wondered
that so many of their sons, reared in
vice and idleness, as too many of them
often are, have no higher ambition than
to invest their inheritance in just that
sort of transportation,
“I wish to ask you a question,” said
Mr. Sharp to our young minister, as lie
met him in the street. “I am anxious
to know where hell is. I have read the
Bible geographies, histories and other
hooks, and 1 can’t find out where it is
exactly." The young minister, placing
his hand on his shoulder, and looking
earnestly into his eyes, replied encour
agingly ; “My dear sir, do not he dis
couraged ; I am sure you will find out
after awhile. As for rnyself, I have
made no inquiries, and really don't
wish to know where hell is. About
heaven I have thought, and read and
studied a great deal. I wish to make
that my home, and by the grace of God
I will. Ask me alxiutheaven and I/Can
talk. I don't know where hell is, and
you had better not find out.”
When, Kali!
For twenty-three years old .lake Wil
lard lias cultivated the soil of Baldwin
county, and drawn therefrom a support
for himself and wife. He is childless.
Nothing ago Jake lefe his house in
search of a missing cow. 11 is route
led him through an old worn*out* patch
of clay land, of about six acres in ex
tent, in the center of which was a well
twenty-five or thirty feet deep, that
at some time, probably, had fur
nished the inmates of a dilapidated
house near by with water. In passing
by this spot an ill wind lifted Jake's
“tile" from his head and maliciously
wafted it to the edge of the well, and
in it tumbled.
Now Jake lisd always practiced the
virtue of economy, and he immediately
set aliout recovering the lost hat. lie
ran to the well, and finding It was dry
at the bottom, lie uncoiled the rope
which he had brought with him for the
purpose of capturing the cow, and after
several attempts to catch the hat witli'a
noose, lie concluded to save t ime by go-
the well himself. To accomp
lish this lie made fust one end of the
rope to a stump hard by, and was quick
ly on his way down the well.
Tt is a fact, of which Jake was no less
oblivious than the reader hereof, that
Ned Wells was in the dilapidated build
ing aforesaid, and that an ol I blind
i horse, with a hell on his neck, who had
| hern turned out to die, was lazily gra
| zing wit hin a short distance of the well.
The devil himself or some other
wicked spirit put it into Ned’s crani
um to have a little fun, so lie quietly
slipped up to the old horse and un
buckled the bell-strap, approaching
with slow, measured “ tiug-a-ling” to
tlm edge of the well,
“ Dang that old blind horse?" said
Jake, “lie's a coinin' this way sure!
and ain't got no more sense than to fall
iin here. Whoa, Ball."
But the continued approach of the
“ ting-a-ling" said just as plainly as
words that “ Ball" wouldn’t whoa. Be
sides, Jake was at the Iwittom resting,
before trying to “ shin" it up the rope.
“Great, Jerusalem,” said lie, “the
old cuss will be a top of me before I
onn say Jack Robinson. Whoa l Dang
you, whoa."
Just then Ned drew up to the edge
of the well, and witli liis foot kicked a
little dirt into it.
“Oil, Lord!" exclaimed Jake, falling
upon liis knees at the bottom. Lin
gone now, whoa. Now I lay me down
to sleep—w-h-o-a, Ball—l pray the
Dml my soul to—w-h-o-a, now. Oh,
Lord, have mercy upon me.”
Ned could hold in no longer, and fear
ful Jake might suffer from t hi fright,
he revealed himself.
Probably Neil didn’t make tracks
with his heels from that well. May be
Jake wasn’t up to the top of it in short
order, and you might, think he didn’t
try every night for two weeks to get a
shot with his rifle at Ned.
Wind Ailed Mini.
A certain hearty and robust citizen
of Minnea|>oiis, who hasn't missed a
meal or taken as much as a seidlitz
powder for ten years, just out of curi
osity called upon an itinerant clairvoy
ant recently, paid the stipulated fee,
and desired to know what ailed him.
I’oor fellow! The itinerant clairvoy
ant adjusted his globe sight, looked
him over for a few moments, and then
remarked:
“ Your brain don't seem to he in a
healthy state. I see a tendency to in
flammation there.”
‘•Glancing down your spinal cord,
I see a number of white or diseased
spots, which unless attended to prompt
ly, will affect you seriously.”
“ On the under side of the liver is a
large green spot or substance,
looks as though it might result in an
ulcer.”
“In the lower portion of the duo
denum is something which looks like a
wrinkle, operates as an obstruction and
prevents the fool from passing from
the storrmch into the intestines as rapid
ly as it should.”
‘‘Upon examination of your diaphragm.
I find in the lower portion of it a s{>ot
which looks worn and thin, as you will
sometimes observe a thin sjsit in a
shingle, by holding it up to the light.
This weakness in the diaphragm is
what causes you to breathe short when
you exert yourself, us ingoing up stuirs
rapidly.”
“ Your spleen is gorged, and requires
immediate attention.”
“ I notice nlso that one of the smaller
intestines is knotted or looped up con
siderably—caused by jumping at some
time probably. This, too, will cause
you much pHin and trouble ere long."
“Upon taking an interior view of
the kidneys I find them much diseased,
mid—”
“ Hold on ! hold on!” said the ro
bust citizen ; “ I had no idea of my ter
rible condition. Don't wink an eye un
til 1 can go out and get my life insured
for the benefit of my mother-in-law !”
Then he madly rushed down stairs
and ordered his brain to be put on ice ;
the spots to be knocked off of his spinal
cord ; the green spot to be slmvcd off of
his liver; the wrinkles to lie ironed
out of his duodenum ; a patch to he
put over the thin spot, in his diaphragm ;
the gorge in his spleen to be pumped
out, and the knot in his smaller intes
tines to be unraveled.
Since that was done the man lias been
comparatively well again.
Sowing.
VivHCtT l't'CMt.
A gentleman was stopping a few
days with a fanner, who, though a man
of sound sense and many good trails of
character, had neglected religion. He
was an excellent fanner, priding him
self on the fine appearance and thorough
culture of his farm, and evidently was
pleased with his guest, who was a man
of winning manners and extensive in
formation, and a Christian.
One day he walked out where the
farmer was scattering his seed broad
cast in the field.
“ What are you sowing, Mr. II—?"
lie asked.
“Wheat," was the reply.
* “And wliat do you expect to reap
from it?”
“Why, wheat, of course,’’ said the
farmer.
At the close of Hie day, ns all were
gathering in a family circle, some little
thing provoked the farmer—the hus
band and father, the head of the family
—and at once lie was in a violent pas
sion ; and forgetting in liis excitement
the presence of his guest, he swore
most profanely. The gentleman, who
was sitting next to him, in a serious
tone said:
“ And wliat, arc you sowing now, Mr.
II—?”
The farmer was startled. Anew
light at once flashed on his mind from
the question of the morning.
The Old Bachelor’s I,alter Fnd.
Home Journal.
Let us glance at the latter scenes.
Even he has his day. When people
find that he will not marry, and that
he is getting on in years, they gradual
ly “drop him." lie ceases to be asked
to parties, and haughty beauties turn
up their noses when he supplicates for
their favor. He may not lose caste
at the same time the bloom of youth is
robbed from him; but when he begins
to enter upon the regions of the sere
and yellow leaf, his flatterers drop away.
He sees younger rivals upon his heels,
and has to make room for them, The
old ties that rendered life dear to him
snap, one by one, and none form to
take their place. Not being engaged
in any work of usefulness, lie has to
fly to his club for companionship, and
lie has no difficulty in discovering that
the “ friends” whom he makes there do
not care a straw for him. People fed
that he is, in some respects, a social
failure, and they feel, further, that it is
liis own fault. They laugh at him be
cause he is vain and selfish, and con
tinues to hanker after admiration ; they
hold his little foibles up to ridicule;
they use him when it suits them, and
forsake him when it suits them. Per
haps t here is no man more hopelessly
alone in the world than the gallant old
bachelor who has outlived the pleasures
of youth and turned fifty.
“ Can you see me dearest?” said a
Chicago man to his dying wife, “Tell
me, can you see me?” “No,” she faint
ly whispered, ‘but, I can smell your
breath,’ ”
WHOLE NO. W.
A Fenalc (taMilillng ll<m*e.
A eorresj ton dent of the lkwton Jour
nal gives the following description of a
peculiar institution of Han Frnnoirce
society:
in ouo of the uK#t fashionable nnd
respectable quarter* in this city, near
Market street, stands a large nnd elegant
looking house. Tfip hundreds of peo
ple who daily it think it is a pri
vate residence, little dreaming that it is
a female gambling institution, ns it is,
and in which thousands of dollars not
unfrequently change bauds nightly. It
, is patronized By men and women who
! belong to the wealthy clnfs, nnd who
| move in aristocratic circles. The man
ager of this institution is a woman, who
came here from St. Louis about a year
ago. At one time she figured in Wash
ington as a lobbyist. She is a lovely
brunette, of queenly appearance, and
dresses elegantly. On your entrance to
this abode you arc generally welcomed
by Madame iu a back parlor, brilliantly
lighted and handsomely furnished, into
which you have been ushered by the
colored servant who has answered your
hell call. From thence you are con
ducted into the saloon of the establish
ment, down stairs. This upartnicut is
gorgeously furnished. The curpet is an
elegant pattern, with heavy curtuinsaiMf
hangings to match, while the furniture
is rich and massive. The walls are
adorned with beautiful pictures and
I articles of virtu are to be seen in pro
fusion. In this apartment, night after
night, into the wee sum’ hours, arc tube
found leading merchants and stock ltro
j kers with the wives of some of their
business associates, all engaged in play,
I which is only interrupted between the
hours of 12 and 1 o’clock by a lunch of
1 cake and wine, 'flic principal games
played by these fashionable gamblers
are faro, Boston ami whist. Occasion
ally roulette and rouge et noir arc
played, 'flic dealer at the faro table is
a beautiful looking blonde, who passes
for the step daughter of Madame the
manager. She generally dresses in a
white luce w rapper, with a lustrous dia
mond ring sparkling from an extremely
white and delicately shaped hand. She
is an adept with the cards if one may
judge by the way she handles them.
There are other females, elegantly at
tired, iu attendance, who are connected
with the cstublhment, and why HWL
always ready to take a hand in itjny
game of chance that is [imposed, and in
which they arc proficient. When not
engage! they usually while away the
time m jilayiiig billiards in an adjoining
room. The fascination and excitement
of gaming are such that every night the
establishment is well patronized. It is
understood that nmdnmo is bucked by
several heavy capitalists of this city.
Couldn’t Quarrel.
Chrintiau Worliy.
In the depths of the forest there lived
two loxes, who never had a cross word
wit h each other. One of them said one
day In the politest fox language ; “ lid’s
quarrel.”
“ Very well," said the other, “asyou
please, dear friend; but how sluill we
set about it?”
“Oh, it cannot he difficult,” said
number one. “Two-legged peoplefaU
out, why should not we?"
So they tried all sorts 'of ways, but
it could not he ({one, because each,
would give way. .At last, number duo
broughtrtjso stones.
“’I here,” said he. “ you say they’re
yours, and I’ll say they're mine, and
we will quarrel and fight and scratch.
Now I'll begin. Those stones are
mine.”
“ Very well,” answered the other
gently, “ you are welcome to them.”
“ But we shall never quarrel at this
rate,” cried the other, jumping up nud
licking his face.
“ You simpleton, don't you know that
it takes two to make a quarrel, any
day?”
The lion. Alexander 11. Stephens has
had to contend with afflictions enough to
kill an ordinary mule. llu now lias •
bronchial affection, the dyspepsia and,
rheumatism, and isn’t very well im,l
That dyspepsia of his seems to be tlnH
“ iniprevious ” of diseases,, giving hTin
more trouble perhaps than anything else.
His digestion, however, is not, as Mr. Mark
I'apley would say, without “vigor.” It
w ill tolerate a chop, a sirloin steak, and
things of that sort, and is not disposed to
make a fuss over a chicken, but flutter it
scorns, and not being on friendly terms |
with milk either, it basic. '-Jjico
tlio cows otf the prer n m
it is not even on s :
of coffee that at CURED.®**!
u •• • i ‘*' t .‘i\\i sn:K ci lijflpi
• I. r * • i.— . •’ A.
*: . .. ...i. :
. : jm
■ t HHHH
.. t ■ <Kggg|g||l
■
Me ■ f- ■
14 U t ! ’ , >< [
• i ota* s s<i >. ~ nos
in the 1. ■■