Newspaper Page Text
WHO FOLLOWED OLl> JOCK.
I >* ) (
BY M. Qt’AD.
* Dttruit i'rct rrett.
When tUe police, after a hot chase
behind*' The Baby Duke,” as the boys
call Ned Raven, the boot-black, failed
to catch him, they "sigd he was the
wickedest boy in Detroit. They knew
that he stole doves, played cards, coax
ed dogs from home, threw stones
through windows, encouraged dog-fight-
ing, and made it his business to have a
row with some other boy regularly each
day, and they declared that his escape
from State prison was truly a wonder.
They peered into the dark alley down
which he hail disappeared and went on
to say that the Duke had no home, no
character, no friends, and that all the
preachers and all the prayers could not
drive the devil out of him for even one
minute. That is one side of the story,
and there wasn't much exaggeration in
the statements of the police. As Lit
tle English remarked :
"'Wo boot-blacks is all purty bad, I
suppose, but The Baby Duke—bless
your eyfes ! Why, he kin sW%ar more
in two minutes than the rest of. us.kin
in all day, and he'd set out to crack a
bank as quick as he'd pry a board off a
hen coop!”
When the Duke plunged into the
alley and shook the police he felt ugly
and wanted to get even with someone.
Old Jock, the rag-picker, lived down
there in the darkness and tilth. Ilis
old shanty was hardly fit for a barn,
and the old man went about in rags and
always looked as if it was hunger alone
that kept his legs moving. Sick or well,
home or abroad on the streets, no one
minded him, and even cats and dogs
turned aside to pass his grim old liabi.
tation.
“ I’ll go in and give the old cadaver
O ry
a grand whirl!” muttered the Duke, as
he halted before the shanty, and he
kicked the door open with a bang.
In the one room, faintly lighted by a
dirty, sputtering candle and cluttered
up with bags or ragS, old show bills,
cans, bottles and scrap-iron, the Duke
found his victim. Old Jock was abed.
The boy bad slept on the wharves, un
der coal sheds, in barns and in boxes,
but he had never had such aj miserable
bed as that before him. There was
herb tea or something of the sort in
reach of old Jock, and it*was plain
enough that the rag-picker was very ill.
“You are a good boy to come in and
sec the old man !” whispered Jock, as
the boy stood before him, and the words
changed the Duke’s plans in an instant.
“ Are you sick ?” he kindly asked.
“ Sick —awful!” replied old Jock.
“ I haven't been out of bed for three
day's, and had neither food nor fife. I
was afraid I must die alone, for none
of the people around here like me.”
No one liked the Duke. Everyone's
hand was raised against him. There
was something in the situation to call
out his sympathy, and going nearer the
bed he said:
“ I hain’t neither a French cook nor
a wet nurse, but I guess I kin collar
this thing and turn up a lone hand.
The first thing is to ring up the curtain
and call out that tragedy entitled, ‘ a
good square meal.’ I've got a little
chink in my pocket, and I'll run out
and surround a few eatables.”
When he returned he had two or
three eggs, a pinch of tea, some crack
ers and a bit of meat, and in a quarter
of an hour lie was ready to remark:
“ The festive board will now be sot.
We can't afford all the delicacies of the
season, and we haven’t got ’taters
served up on six different plates, but
I've seen the time I wouldn't go back
on this fodder.”
The old man had not spoken a word,
and his eyes had been closed most of
the time. lie let the Duke prop him
up in bed and hold a cup of tea to his
lips, but after trying to swallow a little
he wailingly said :
“ It's no use, boy—l’m too near
death’s door to want food ! I'm grate
ful as an old man—a dying old man,
can be, but the most you can do is to
sit here with me and see me die. I
didn’t know you at first, but now I see
you are the boy called The Duke.”
“Yours very truly,” replied the boy,
as he put the cup on the table.
“ Boy ! Do you know what I what I
wa3 when I was a lad like you ?” earn
est ly asked old Jock,
“ Owned apostoffice, maybe, or drove
,a coach for the Czar of Russia,” re
plied the Duke, as he began satisfying
his appetite.
“ I was a wild, bad boy !” said the
old man, turning his head so that he
could survey the gloomy room. “ I ran
away from home—l stole, cheated,
hated all that was good. See where I
am to-night! lam dying here in this
VOL. II—NO. 35.
old hovel, feared by children, shunned
by men and women, and not one human
being in all this wide world to clasp my
hand as the mystic curtain of death
shuts down and makes my soul afraid !”
“ Hain’t I here ?” reprovingly que
ried the Duke. “Hain’t I going to
stay right here till the green curtain
comes down on the last act in this sad
tragedy ?”
“ Boy ! you've got a heart after all!”
.whispered old Jock. “ Come a little
nearer. Let ine take your hand. You
were good to come in and sit with me.
I've heard many bad stories about you.
but now I believe, that people have
wronged you. They have’been quick
to see your faults and sjpw to admit
that ,tllere was any good in you. You
are not such a bad boy.”
It was the first kind word the Duke
had heard for a year. He forgot the
gloomy hovel, the dying bed, and the
fact that men lmd bunted him but an
hour before, and a lump came into bis
throat as he said :
“ If folks nag me around I've got to
git even, hain’t I?”
“ I know they have been too hard on
you my boy, but you've got a bad
name, and you do ( many bad things.
I've been just like you. I bated people
because I thought they bated me. I
thought they weren’t giving me a chance,
but now I look back and see that I
didn't give myself a chance. Here I
am to-night, uiCbaugHt of* dying, and
to be buried like a dog ! Do you. want
to come to this?”
The Duke glanced around him, then
at the wrinkled and hideous face before
him, and replied:
“ It's tuff.”
“And die hereafter!” gasped Old
Jock, after a long silence. “Boy!
What becomes of- such souls asmine?”
The Duke was silent.
“ You won't leave me, will you ?’ ■
wailed the old man. “ 1 wish we had
more*caudiCs,. fo I I can hardly 1- see you !
Put yowi* hand on my forehead, as a
woman would—come closer to me, boy !
You have been good to the old man,
and I hope you may be Rewarded. I
wfcb men had sat down -and talked
kindly to you,' irtstead of hunting your |
track like a pack of wolves.”
“ Everybody has bin agin me!”.
gasped the Duke, his heart quite broken.
“ When I’ve asked for work they've
waived me away, and I've had to beg
and steal or go hungry. Everybody
say’s I'm on the road to the gallows!"
“I hear a moaning, ns of the waves
rushing oyer the rocks it far off!” mused
the old man, as bis clammy fingers
tightened their grip on the boy’s band.
“ Yes, I know how they’ve used yon,
but you can change it all in one day.
Won't j'ou begin to-morrow ? Let
folks see by your actions that you have
altered your course, and every enemy
will turn to be your friend. Are you
here’yet ?”
“ Yes, I am here.”
“Is it dark in here —is the wind blow
ing hard ?”
“ Old Jock, you are dying!” whisper
ed The Duke as he bent closer to the
white face.
“ I—know—it!” gasped the old man
at long intervals. “But you’ll—you'll—
“lf they'll let me!” choked the
Duke.
“ So dark ! and I'm so cold ! Hark !"
He raised his head as if to listen,
and when lie fell back he was dead.
“ So old Jock is dead 1” queried men
and women, when the morning came.
“ Well, let his ghost follow the body to
a pauper's grave ! It’s the best news
for a week!”
But, when the wagon went up to load
in the coffin the Duke was there at the
old hovel to quietly say :
“ Lift him in sort o’ kindly, every -
body was agin him, and he didn’t have
a fair show.”
“ And will j'ou ride up ?” asked the
driver.
“No ! I’ll walk behind, I won't make
a very long funeral procession, but I'm
going to follow old Jock to his grave !”
And he did. He was alone, and the
way was long, but as he stood beside
the open grave, hat off, and bis wild
locks flying around a pale, resolute face,
he said:
t “Be keerful with the first dirt! I
hain't as mean as 1 was jester-lay, and
HARTWELL. GA., WEDNESDAY. APRIL ‘>4, 1878.
that dead man in that grave is the cause
of it. I’ll help kiver him up, and then
go'll look for work and see if folks will
give me a show.”
The Duke lias been a bad, bad boy.
Let us aid him to be good.
Playing* Horse wfth a Bear.
Once there was a man whose life had
boon spent in “ going west.” His fath
er and mother moved from New Eng
land to Michigan when lie was a baby,
and settled six miles from any neighbor.
But before the farm was all cleared, oth
er settlers came, and the family moved
on. “ Don't want to be crowded,” the
old man said ; “ I board a ride and an
ax that wasn’t mure, yesterday.” And
he went farthef and farther west every
fear, till bv the time the little bnjxT'm
telling you of was a grown up man, they
had got clear to the west part of Oregon,
on the Pacific coast. And as the old
man couldn't move west any father, with
out getting into the ocean, and neigh
bors had moved within two miles of him,
he gave it up, went to bed sick, and
died.
“’Tain‘t no use,” lie said. “They’re
bound to crowd an old man outer the
world, I can't bear to tetch elbows with
folks, nohow.” And so he died, with
his nearest neiglitior two miles away.
But I'm going to teU you about his
son’s adventure with a bear. They unfit
their first log housc at the foot of a hill ;
but it was so low and damp that James
—for that, was lys name—started to
build a bigger one higjier up, lialfa mile
oft', near a mountain brook, with grand
old trees around the spot, and a fine
view of the country. He took oft' the
two front wheels of the old emigrant
wagon, that they had crossed the great
plains inland made him a good strong
two-wheeled cart, with a box on it. And
in this he drew hack and forth his car
penter tools, mid his dinner, and chips
for the fire, over a,rough road that he
had cut through the woods.
lie used to take a little nap after his
TiooTOffy' "MariTMKT ferifl' TBy he was
sleeping on a splendid bed of evergreen
boughs that lie had fixed near the tim
bers! lie was at work on, \ylicn he was
awakened bj-a loud rattling of the tin
dishes in his Cart. He looked around
quicklj’, and what do j r ou suppose lie
saw? A big pawing over
the luncheon lie had left find smacking
Lis chops over a piece of wild honey
and some corn cake that James hadn't
eaten up.
“ This is a pretty fix,-" said Junius to
himself as quick as a flash. “My rifle
and ax are both in the cart, and that ug
ly beast would claw me to pieces before
I could get them out.” lie was afraid
the bear would chase him if he ran, and
corner him if lie stayed, and so he sot
his w its to work to find a way out of the
scrape. Good, bright witsaretoo much
for a bear, or a hard lesson, or a rough
job of any sort, if they arc only kept at
work, with no “can’t,” or “Idon’t want
to,” or “Oh, dear,” ta hinder them. It
didn’t take James’ wit so long as I have
been telling it to you to make a plan
for him.
He jumped to his feetquiek as a flash,
grabbed the tongue of the cart before
the bear could say “ Jack Robinson” —
if he had known how—and started on a
fast run down the hill, drawing the cart
and the bear in it after him.
“ Well, I s'pose there never was a bear
so astonished since the pair saved from
the flood stepped out of Noah’s ark and
found the whole drowned. He had nev
er had a ride before, and didn’t want
one now T . But the cart was going so
fast that he dare not jump out; and so
he just clung on, and looked from one
side to the other, and fairly howled as
the cart bumped over the roots and
stones. James had been to the city once
and seen the street cars, and when he
had thebcar caught, the fun of the thing
made him laugh.
When the hear roared once be halloed
back : “All full inside ! take the next
car.” And when the bear gave a ter
rific growl, he said : “ Move up in front,
place, and don’t grumble. This is a
through car. Git up there!” and he
buckled down to it, and ran just the way
the car-drivers make their horses go,
when they are late, and pretend they
don’t see a little boycrookmg his fingers
for ’em to stop on the crossing. The tin
dishes in the bottom of the cart rattled
like a peddler’s wagon on the pavement;
the ax and gun bounded on to the bear's
toes, and he looked as if lie didn’t know
which was the worst —liis mad or his
scare.
Down thesteep hill Jntnos ran, straight
for the corner of his loghouse. lie had
his plans till made, and as he turned the
corner hf ran the cart neruinst a log, and
tipped it right over, bottom side up, with
Mr. Bear on the other side. His other
rifle hung over the door, in the house-,
and lie grabbed that down in a hurry,
ai>4 as the bear stuck his head up from
under the cart, lie shot him right be
tween the eyes, saying: •'There, that
settles the question.”
“ What question?” asked his wife, who
cume running out to mu what the noise
meant.
“ Why the question whether 1 had
caught a bear or lie had caught me.
Oil a toffee Plantation.
Scribner's Magazine.
Coffee culture is very interesting, and
the growing crop is very beautiful. Tin
trees at maturity are from five to eight
feet high; they arc well shaped and
buslij’, with a glossy dark-green foliage,
and planted eight or nine feet apart.
The flowers are in clusters at the root
of tho leaves, and are small, but pure
white and verj' fragrant. The fruit has
a rich color, and resembles a small
cherry or large cranberry ; it grows in
clusters, close to the branches, and
when it becomes a deep red is ripe and
ready to he gatherer!. The trees are
raised from seed, and do not begin to
yiejd until the third year. In Central
America they bear well for twelve or
fifteen years, although, in exceptional
cases, trees twenty j-ears old will yield
an abundance of fruit. The tree is
particularly beautiful when in full
bloom, or nlien laffCli Tvith ripo fVni*
The process of preparing coffee for
market is as follows: the ripe berries
when picked are at first put through a
machine called the “ despulpador,”
which removes the pulp; the coffee
grains, of which there are two in each
berrj’, are still covered with a sort of
glutinous substance which adheres to
the bean; they arc now spread out on
large “ patios.” made specially for this
purpose, and left there, being occasion
ally tossed about and turned over with
wooden shovels, until they are perfectly
dry. They are then gathered up and
put into the “ retrilla,” a circular
trough in which a heavy wooden wheel,
shod with steel is made to revolve, so
as to thoroughly break the husk with
out crushing the bean. The chaff is
separated from the grain by means of
fanning-mill, and the coffee is now
thoroughly dry and clean. After this,
it is the custom of some planters to
have it spread out on long tables and
carefully picked over by the Indian
women and children, all the bad beans
being thrown out. It only remains
then to have it put into bags, weighed
and marked, before it is ready for ship
ment to the port. On some of the
larger plantations this process is great
ljT simplified, with considerable saving j
in time and labor, by the use of im
proved machinerp for drying and clean
ing the coffee.
Didn’t Know lie Was Loaded.
“ You will please observe,” said old
Mr. Lambwell, as he led us through his
school the other day, “ that the boys
are required to display the utmost at
tention to quietness and discipline, and
in a short time become even divested of
that most annoying disposition to tease
each other; in shflrt, they soon settle
down into the gravity of mature years,
under the wholesome system I have in
troduced.”
We at this moment arrived in front
of several boys who were standing
around a bucket of water, and one had
just charged his mouth with the con
tents of a tin cup, while the old gentle
man was stooping to recover his pen
from the floor, when another passing
along behind, snapped his finger quick
ly beneath the drinker's ear, and caused
him by a sudden start to eject the con
tents of his mouth over the pedagogue’s
bald pate. Starting upright, with his
hair and face dripping, the master said :
“ Who did that ?”
The party unanimously cried out;
“ Jim Gun, sir.'
“Jim Gun, you rascal, what did you
j do that for ?"
! • • * **
dim, appalled at the mischief he hod
done, muttered out that it was not his
fault, but that Tom Owens had snapt
him.
This changed the direction of old
Lainbwell’s wrath, and shaking his cane
portentously over Owens' head, lie
nsk&f
“ Did you simp Gun ?”
The culprit, trembling with fear,
murmured:
“ Yes, sir; I snapt Gun, but I didn't
know he was loaded.”
Jo.%h Billings’ Philosophy.
The uncertainties of life is just what
makes it endurable.
The devil never was known yet to de
sert his friends in a tight spot, but gets
them into a tighter one, and then does.
I think I had rather trust my faith
than my judgment
Asa general tiling the philosophers
of the world have spent much of their
time eating stewed terrapins, then telling
other folks how unhealthy they arc.
My friend if you just give other peo
ple the same privileges that you claim
for yourself, you will be surprised to see
how smooth and still the old machine
runs.
It is very easy to explain a defeat.
Wc charge it over to the had luck ac
count.
If there wasn’t any fools this world
would be a dreadful desolate place to
live in; it wouldn’t pay to he wise or
even cunning.
If it was against tlm law to guess at
things we wouldn’t know much.
One of the strongest points in the de v il's
character is, never to consider anything
out of his reach.
j The. more a man knows the less he
i doubts; when reason fails to let faith
[ , ’
lead him.
There is no theory-that will work on
the jumping tooth-ache like the dentist's
forceps.
Silence is the fool's safetj’, and the
wise man's strength.
Wc all praise contentment, but none
of us practice it.
A loafer is a human being, and this
is the most mortifying thingabout him.
Trying to live on a pedigree is a good
deal like trying to live on dried apples;
about the best you can do after you have
filled yourself with the apples is to take
a drink and sit down and swell.
There is but little bad luck in the
world—but there is a heap of bad man
agement.
Vanity and jealousy always travel to
gether—two very selfish creatures.
Young man, if you want a cheap obit
uary notice, let your hair grow out,
drink whisky, and rave to the full moon
and die in the gutter.
If a man has got a good article of re
ligion, he don’t have to advertise it to
find a market.
About one half that even flic wisest
man known is mere theory.
Young man. don’t forget this: Betting 1
ten dollars on it won’t prove how far a
bull-frog can jump.
Mr. Christopher J. Wilcox, of Ma
con, Treasurer of the Macon and
Brunswick Railroad, has invented and
patented an improved saw, which the
Telegraph $ Messenger thinks will cre
ate a revolution in the mechanical
world. It is thus described: “The
new principle on which the patent is
sued consists in so arranging the teetli
of the saw that it acts not only as a;
saw, but also as a plane, and the wood
on leaving it is in a dressed condition,
as if it had passed through a planing
machine, or been dressed with a plane
in the hands of an experienced carpen
ter. The saw is arranged with sets of
teeth, three in a set, with what is known
as a clearing tooth in front and two
cutting teeth in the rear, one beveled on
the one side and the other on the oppo
site side, and in the movement or ro
tation, as the case may be, the wood
and with it the roughness is cleared
away and the surface is left as smooth
as if planed and ready for building
purposes and the painter's brush.”
Some people have softening of the
brain, but the world suffers more from
those who have hardening of the heart.
WHOLE NO. 87.
WAS ST. PATRICK JEREMIAH I
Tb Riv *>r. AVII<I* lt<s<>n r®i- Itvllev.
In* —Jnrob'M I’lllou nud tli Ark.
Ntw York Sun.
The Rev. Dr. Wild of the Union
Congregational Church, Brooklyn, told
his people on Hunday evening of last
week that iu his next lectures he would
tell them who the real St. Patrick was,
and what the destiny of Ireland would
be. Men and women even thronged
the aisles, and sat on the pulpit stairs of
his church, last evening, to hear the rev*
elutions.
In the last two lectures he has been
leading Ms hearers gradually up to tho
assertion that lie made last evening. 110
announced his belief that the prophet
Jeremiah und St. Patrick were one and
the same .person, ’in his last lecture ho
tried to prove that the tribe of Dan, af
ter wandering through Europe, had at
last settled in the north of Ireland.
“ Even the early names of Ireland show
who its settlers were,” lie said, last eve
ning. “It was called tho ‘land of tho
wanderers.’ Why Hibernians means
• those over the sea,’ and the word itself
!is pure Hebrew. Think of that, you
Hibernian societies! Who took tho
Hebrew language there?” Fifteen yeara
-if special study on this point had satis
fied him that lie was right. He had ex
amined MSS, written 574 years before
Christ, ayd now in the Dublin Library.
To these people the Prophet Jeremiah
came when he fled with an Isrcnliteish
maiden of tho line of David. Her ho
gave in marriage to the king of the peo
ple in northern Ireland. From the des
cendants of these two, though the Scot
tish lino, had come the monarchs of
I Groat Britain. “Talk of your Homo
| J
Rule,your present Irish agitations,” ho
exclaimed: “ Why it is Irish ancestry
that has given England its rulers.” Sa
cred history showed that Jeremiah hid
: tlie sacred ark of the covenant and took
with him the stone called Jacob's Pillow.
“ What is the stone under the coronation
; chair in Wesmiuister Abbey? What
| did it come from ? What is its history?
It was brought from Ireland in the sev
! enth ccnttiry. There it was known as
Jacob's Pillow, and England would rath
er fight than give that stone back to
Ireland. Over that stone an endless
Hue of kings have been crowned—back
Uli T/llvMi Wltd* nuulU I'v.wfilv **
north of Ireland have known of Jacob’s
Pillow in those early days, unless hy
pothesis be true? And the Bible tells
us that Jeremiah took it with him.”
“Another remarkable fact,” contin
ued Dr. Wild: “Jeremiah established
1 iho ninth or nroll degree of Masonry.
He did tli is that the tradition of his
hiding the ark, and ot his ultimate dis
covery in the latter days according to
prophecy, might be handed down. Mem
bers of that degree will understand tho
significance. It has come to us from
Ireland, through Scotland and England,
and can be traced back. Who would
have thought to institute a ceremony
over a fictitious hiding and recovery of
tho sacred ark? It will be found.”
Here lie spoke of the ruined tow n of
Tara. “Those ruins will be explored.”
be said, “and Aschbishop Cullen knows
that the discoveries that will be mado
will upset all current history.”
It was at this point that Dr. Wild as
serted that Jeremiah was the real St
Patrick. “The very name is a slight
indication. He was called the sainted
Patriarch. Patriarch corrupt into Pat
rick. Every one admits that St. Pat
rick was a foreigner. Years after, when
the Itomish Church wanted a saint to
make secure her hold on Ireland’s peo
ple, she seized the tradition, and it lias
served her well.”
“ Ireland will have a glorious future,”
said the preacher in closing, “ for God
has given her the title deeds to it.”
Where He Was Stabbed.
Elcho (Nee.) Post.
“ Gentlemen of the jury,” said aTus*
earora lawyer, “ what kind of swearing
lias been done in this case ? Here wo
have a physician, a man who, from his
high and noble calling, should be re
garded as one who would scorn to stain
his soul with perjury, or be guilty of
giving utterance to an untruth. But
what did lie testify, gentlemen ? I put
the question to him plainly, as you all
heard : ‘ Where was this man stabbed?’
And what was his reply ? Unblush
ingly, ids features as cool and placid as
though cut from marble, he replied that
tho man was stabbed about an inch and
a half to the left of the medical line,
and about an inch above the umbilicus,
and yet we have proved by three unim
peachable witnesses that he was stab
bed just below the Young America
hoisting-works.”
Laziness travels so slow that poverty
soon overtakes it.