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ALBANY WEEKLY HERALD: SATURDAY JULY 30, i8qa,
NATURE VERSUS ART.
I know this hyair rhytnn ain't purfect,
But rhyme he ilarned-’tiH theanngl
The bird docan’t measure Its music
Thai wnrhlua ihe whole day long.
Nor them stars up thar in squares don’t
shine, v
Nor them spring green trees don’t grow
A-followin one t ho other
. Like a city tenement row!
The flowers o’ fluids ore big an small.
An they don’t grow In circles, dear;
They may do so In them hothouse beds.
But I’m writino’ Nature here,
4iin’t got much use for dogmas,
Creeds, nor schools, nor things,
ily church Is iho plain—It’s dome tho sky.
An my preacher th’ bird that sings.
I see a Somethin In overy cloud.
An twig, an brook, an flower;
An I reckon I know what’s right an wrong
Bo the workiu o’ thot thar Power
Thet colors tho leaves an sends tho rain.
The cyclone an tho sun.
An somethin Mtklu hero tolls mo
Thet I’m part o’ thet great big Oncl
.No! 1 ain’t got much use for party tunes,
Sich as writers rbytno down hero,
But my soul Jlst loves thot music
Thet thrills from sphere to sphere!
•> 1 reckon your oars can’t hear it,
For it pulsates in your soul,
.But it takes a isn't to feel it,
Coz his heart's part o' tho Whole!
Now some don't like Walt Whitman—
His mention makes ’em rile,
Jlst coz ho dared to tell tho troth.
Without carin much for style.
He pintuted lhe world Jist ns it was—
Truth an facts an lles-
An he didn't a-try to tlx things up
To suit the critics’ eyes.
But ain’t tho mud fleck jist as real
Ez tho potnl soft an fine?
An ain't tho body ez roal, too,
Thet holds this soul o’ mine?
Thet's tho reason 1 love Walt Whitman,
Jlst coz ho saw the wholo—
The beauty o' outward symbols
Ez well as tho inward soul.
He loved the man with toll browned hands,
He hadn't much uso fer u king:
He wuv. a democrat thet loved mankind,
An thet’s what made him sing.
Ho wrote Jlst Ukonld Natur’ is,
Without muchdudish grace,
Fer he modeled his stylo on Nutur’s
Bough an wild, sweet face.
Liko him I’ll writo ozl seo tit.
An Jhjt follor my own soul’s light,
Then your gold penned critters may go to
grass,
Coz 1 know i’mdoln what’s right!
—Fitzgerald Murphy in Tacoma (Wash.) Led*
ger.
BOUM-BOUM.
The child was 'lying stretched out
in his little white bed, and his eyes,
grown large through fever, looked
straight before him, always with the
strange fixity of the sick who al
ready perceive whut the living do
not see.
The mother at the foot of the hod.
torn by suffering and wringing hor
hands to keep herself from crying,
anxiously followed the progress of
the disease on the poor emaciated
face of the little being. The father,
an honest workman, kept back the
tears which burned his eyelids.
The day broke clear and mild, a
beautiful morning in June, and light
ed up the naiTow room in the street
of the AboBsess where little Francois,
the child of Jacques and Madeleine
Legrand, lay dying. He was seven
years old and was very fair, very
rosy and so lively. Not three weeks
ago he was as gay as a sparrow; hut
a fever had seized him and they had
brought him home one evening from
the public school with his head
heavy and his hands very hot. From
that time he had been here in this
bed, and sometimes in his delirium
when he looked at his well blacked
shoes, which his mother had placed
in a corner on a board, he said:
“You can throw them away now,
little Francois' shoes I Little BVaneois
will not put them on any morel Lit
tie Francois will not goto school any
more—never, never I”
Then the father cried out and said.
“Wilt thou bo still?" And the moth
er, very pale, buried her blond head
in his pillow, bo that little Francois
could not hear her weep.
This night the child had not been
delirious, but for the two days past
the doctor had been uneasy over an
odd sort of prostration, which re
sembled abandon; it was as if at
seven years the sick one already felt
the weariness of life. He was tired,
silent, sad and tossed his little head
about on the bolster. He hod no
longer a smile on his poor thin lips,
and with haggard eye he sought, see
ing they knew not what, something
there beyond, very far off.
“In heaven! Perhaps 1" thought
Madeleine, trembling.
When they wished him to take
some medicine, some sirup or a little
soup he refused. He refused every
thing.
“Dost thou wish anything, Fran
cois?”
“No, I wish nothingf
“We must draw him out of this,"
the doctor said. “This torpor fright
ens me. You ore the father and
mother; you know your child well.
Seek for something to reanimate this
little body; recall to earth this spirit
which runs after the clouds 1”
Then he went away.
“Seek!”
Yes, without doubt they knew him
■well, their Francois, these worthy
people. They knew how it amused
him, the little one, to plunder the
hedges on Sunday and to come hack
to Paris on his father’s shoulders
laden with hawthorn. Jacques Le
grand had bought some images,
some gilded soldiers and some Chi
nese shadows for Francois. He cut
them out, put them on the child’s
bed and. made them dance before the
bewildered eyes of the little one, and
with a desire to weep himself he
tried to make him laugh.
“Dost thou see; it is the broken
bridge. Tire, tire, tire! And this is
the general! Thou rememberest we
saw one, a general, once in the Bois
de Boulogne? If thou takest the
medicine well I will buy thee a real
one with a cloth tunic and gold epau
lets. Dost thou wish for him, the
general, say?”
“No,” replied the child, with the
dry voice which fever gives.
“Dost thou wish a pistol, some
marbles—a crossbow?”
“No,” repeated the little • voice,
clearly and almost cruelly.
And to all that they said to him, to
all thq jumping jacks, to all the bal
loons that they promised him, the
little voice—while tho parents looked
at each other in despair—responded:
“No.” “No.” “No!”
“But what dost thou wish, my
Francois?" asked tho mother. “Let
us see; there is certainly something
thou wouldst like to have. Tell it,
tell it me! to mo, thy mother!." And
slio laid her cheek on tho pillow of
the sick boy and wliispored this soft
ly in his ear as if it was a secret.
Then the child, with an odd accent,
straightening himself up in his bed
nnd stretching out his hand eagerly
toward some invisible thing, replied
suddenly in an ardent tone, at the
same time supplicating and impera
tive:
"I want Boum-Boum!"
Boum-Boum!
Poor Madeleine throw a frightened
look toward her husband. What did
tho little one Bay? Was it the de
lirium, tho frightful delirium, which
had come back again?
Boum-Boum I
She did not know what that meant,
and she was afraid of these singular
words which the child repeated with
a sickly persistence, os if, not having
Jared until now to formulato his
dream, he grasped the present time
with inviueiblo obstinacy.
'Yes, Boum-Boum! Boum-Boum!
I want Boum-Boum I"
Tho mother had seized Jacques'
hand aud jjpoke vory low, as if de
mented.
“What does that mean, Jacques!
He is lost!”
But tho father had on his rough,
workingman’s face a smllo almost
happy, hut astonished, too; tho smile
of a condemned man who foresees a
possibility of liberty.
Boum-Boum I Ho romembored well
the moaning of Easter Monday when
he had taken Francois to the circus.
He had still in his ears the child's
outbursts of joy, the happy laugh of
tho amused boy, when the clown,
the beautiful clown all spangled with
gold and with a great gilded butter
fly sparkling, many colored, on tho
back of his black costume, skipped
across the track, gave the trip to u
rider or held himBelf motionless und
stiff on the sand, his head down and
his foot in the air. Or again he tossed
up to the chandelier some soft, felt
hats which he caught adroitly on his
head, where they formed, one by
one, a pyramid; and at each jest,
like a refrain brightening up his in
telligent and droll face, be uttered
the same cry, repeated the same
word, accompanied now and then by
a burst from the orchestra, Bourn
Bourn!
Boum-Boum! and each time that
it rang out, Boum-Boum, the nudi
once burst out into hurrahs and the
little one joiued in with his hearty
little laugh. Boum-Boum! It was
this Boum-Boum, it was the clown of
the circus, it was this favorite of a
large part of the city that little Fran
cois wished to see and to have and
whom he could not have and could
not Bee, since he was lying here with
out strength in his white bed.
In the evening Jacques Legrand
brought the child a jointed clown,
all stitched with spangles, which he
had bought in a passageway and
which was very expensive. It was
tho price of four of his working days!
But he would have given twenty,
thirty, he would have given the price
of a year’s labor to bring back a
smile to the pale lips of the sick child.
The child looked at the plaything a
moment as it glistened on the white
cover of the bed, then said sadly:
“It is not Boum-Boum! I want to
see Boum-Boum!"
Ah! if Jacques could have wrapped
him up in his blankots, could have
carried him to the circus, could have
shown him the clown dancing under
the lighted chandelier and have said
to him, Look! He did better, Jacques,
he went to the circus, demanded the
address of the clown, and timidly,
his legs shaking with fear,' he
climbed, one by one, tho steps which
led to the apartment of the artist at
Montmartre. It was very bold this
that Jacques was going to do. But
after all the comedians go to sing
and recito their monologues in draw
ing rooms, at the houses of the great
lords. Perhaps the clown—oh, if ho
only would—would consent to come
and say goodby to Francois. No
matter, bow would they receive him,
Jacques Legrand here at Bourn-
Bourn’s house?
He was no longer Boum-Boum 1
He was M. Moreno, and. in the ar
tistic dwelling, the cooks, tne en
gravings, the elegance was like a
choice decoration around the charm
ing man who received Jacques in his
office like that of a doctor.
Jacques looked, but did not recog
nize the clown, and turned and twist
ed his felt hat between his fingers.
The other waited. Then the father
excused himself. “It was astonish
ing what he came there to ask; it
could not ho pardon, excuse. But, in
short, it was concerning the little
one. A nice little one, monsieur.
And so intelligent 1 Always the first
at school,except in arithmetic, which
he did not understand. A dreamer,
this little one, do you see? Yes, a
dreamer. And the proof, wait, the
proof.”
Jacques now hesitated, stammered;
but he gathered up his courage aud
said brusquely:
"The proof is that he wishes to see
you, thot he thinks only of you, and
that you are there before him like a
star which he would like to have and
that he looks”
When he had finished, the father
was deadly pale, and he had great
drops on his forehead. He dared
not look at tho clown who remained
with his eyes fixed-on the workman.
And wliat was I10 going to say, this
Boum-Boum? Was he going to dis
miss him, take him for a fool aud
put him out the door?
“You livo?”
“Oh, vory near! Street of the
Abessess.”
“Cornel” said the other. “Your boy
wonts to seo Boum-Boum? Ah, well,
ho is going to see Boum-Boum.”
AN ESOTERIC CLIMAX,
WHILE 8PIKETOWN COUNTED SIXTY
HOKO PREPARED IT.
When the door opened and showed
the clown, Jacques Legrand cried
out joyfully to his son:
“Francois, he happy, child! See.
hore he is, Boum-Boum I”
A look of great joy came over tho
child's face. Ho raised himself on
his mother's arm and turned his
head toward the two men who ap
proached, questioning, for a mo
ment, who it was by the side of his
father—this gentleman in an over
coat, whose good, pleasant face he
did not know.
When IJiey said to him, “it is
Boum-Boum 1" he slowly fell back on
the pillow and remained there, his
eyes fixed, his beautiful large, bluo
eyes which looked beyond the walls
of the little room and were always
Booking the spangles and the butter
fly of Boum-Boum, liko a lover who
pursues liis dream.
“No,” replied tho child with a voice
which was no longer dry, but full of
despair, “no, it is not Boum-Boum.”
The clown, standing near tho little
bed, threw upon the child an earnest
look, very grave, but of an inexpress
ible sweetness.
He shook his head, looked at the
anxious father, the grief stricken
mother, and said, smiling, “He is
right, this is not Boum-Boum I" and
then he went out.
“I cannot see him, I will never see
Boum-Boum any more I” repeated the
child whose little voice spoke to the
angels. “Boum-Boum is perhaps
there, there, where little Francois
will Boon go."
And suddenly—it was only half an
hour since the clown had disappeared
—the door opened quickly and in ills
black, spangled clothes, his yellow
cap on his head, the gilded butterfly
on his breast and on his book, with a
smile as big as the mouth of a money
box and a powdered face, Bourn
Bourn, ihe true Boum-Boum, the
Boum-Boum Of the circus, the Boum-
Boum of the popular neighborhood,
the Boum-Boum of little Francois—
Boum-Boum appeared.
Lying on his little white bed the
child clapped his thin little hands,
laughing, crying, happy, saved, with
a joy of life in his eyes, and cried
“bravo” with his seven-year gayoty
which all at once kindled up like a
match.
“Boum-Boum 1 It is he, it is he,
this time! Here is Boum-Boum I
Long live Boum-Boum! Good day
Boum-Boum.”
And when the doctor came back
he found seated by little Francois'
bedside a clown with a pale face who
made the little one laugh again and
again, and who said to the child
while he was stirring a piece of sugar
into a cup of medicine:
“Thou knowest if thou dost not
drink, little Francois, Boum-Boum
will not come back any more."
So the child drank.
“Is it not good?"
“Very good! Thanks, Bourn
Bourn!”
“Doctor," said the clown to the
doctor, “do not he jealous. It seems
to me that my grimaces will do him
as much good ns your prescriptions 1"
The father and mother wept, hut
this time from joy.
Until little Francois was on his
feet again a carriage stopped every
day before the dwelling of a work
man in the street of the Abessess, at
Montmartre, and a man got out with
a gay powdered face, enveloped in
an overcoat with the collar turned
back, and underneath it one could
see a clown’s costume.
“What do I owe you, monsieur?”
said Jacques at last to the master
clown when the child took his first,
walk, “tor now I owe you some
thing.”
The clown stretched out his two
soft, herculean hands to the parents.
■ “A shako of the hand!" said he.
Then placing two great kisses on
the once more rosy cheeks of the
child:
“And,” laughing, “permission to
put on my visiting card:
I “BOUM-BOUM, :
: Acrobatic Doctor and Physician in :
: Ordinary to Little Francois.’’ :
—Translated from the French of
Jules Claretie for Yankee Blade by
Mary Stuart Symonds.
A General Falling.
It is rather unpleasant to hear a
public speaker remark, “My friends
—nr—I wish to say a few words—
ur—on tliiR occasion—ur.” But then
it should he remembered that to ur
is human.—Boston Transcript
A Profetiftor «f the Art of Legerdemain
Knllghteiui a Whole Town, at Fifty
CoutM a Head, on the Difficult aud Ex*
iMpurittlng Subject of Cooking.
Nobody hud ever heard of tho cole-
Cratod Hoko Effendi, but the public
curiosity to see him was no less keen on
that aocouut. In the little western Illi
nois town on which he had alighted like
a flawing meteor tho visit of n professor
of magio was an event. All that was
known of him was that he had made his
appearance about tho time tho stage
coach from Shucksvillo camo in, nnd
was supposed to have traveled In that
conveyance: that ho had procured tho
printing of several hundred small hills
at tho office of Tho Blizzard, promising
to pay for them the next day.
The evening came. The price of nd-
mission to tho entortninment was fifty
cents for adults, children half price.
The celebrated Hoko Effendi was his
own doorkeeper, nnd the people of Spike •'
town turned out in, large numbers
There were no deadheads except tlm
editor of The Blizzard and the dignilieil
citizen who wore dyed whiskers and a
plug hat and unuonneed himself at the
door ns the mayor.
When the uudience began to show tm-
pntienco by the customary stamping and
whistling tho world renowned master of
Egyptian magio accepted the proffered
servicos of a leading citizen as door
keeper, and wont back to the’other end
of tho hull, disappearing behind tho cur
tain that hid tho stage from view.
in a few moments ho reappearod in
front of it and made a pleasing little
speech, requesting close attention to the
performances, as many of them wero of
a nature bordering on the supernatural,
and promising an entertainment such us
had never been seen in Spiketown be
fore and never would ugain.
After performing some cnrlons tricks
with playing cards lie announced that
tho first really difficult feat of the even
ing would now he shown—that of baking
a cake without a pan of any kind.
“The ladies in the audience," he said,
when they bake cokes are compelled
to use bnttor, eggs, flour, sugar, fla
voring extract, icing, etc., and put the
dough in a hot oven. 1 do nothing of
the kind. By the simple manlpulatior
of flour, sirup and a hat I can produce
a cake in five minutes that no lady in
this honse can equal. 1 will make a
cake that a committee, to be selected
from the ladies present, will pronounce
the best they ever tasted, 1 will do tills
or forfeit $100, Will some kind gentle
man present oblige me with the loan of
a high silk hat? Will you kindly lend it
to me? I will take excellent care of it
and return it in a few minutes."
The mayor demurred.
“Your hat will not be injured in tho
least, sir,” the magioian assured him,
“I will return it to you without spot,
blemish or stain. I have performed tills
feat thousands of times without the
slightest injury to the hat.”
The mayor of Spiketown, thus ap
pealed to, relented and handed over his
cherished tile.
Then the magioian produced a pan of
flour, which was passed through the
audience and unanimously declared to
be genuine. He poured it into the hat.
Then a quart measure half filled with
Hew Orleans molasses was produced and
handed around in like manner, pro
nounced the pure, unadulterated stuff,
and returned to him. He poured this
into the hat likewise and stirred the
mixture with a long lead pencil. The
mayor involuntarily gasped and half
rose in his seat, but the wizard again as
sured him, with a wave of the hand,
“Your hat will not be injured in the
least, my dear sir," and he proceeded
with the performance.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” he said,
we will witness the finale, the denoo-
mong, as it were, of this unparalleled feat
of illusion. 1 can bake the cake just as
well on a piece of ice as on a rtove; but
as there happens to be a good fire in this
stove near the stage 1 will bake it on top
of that. Again, I assure yon, Mr. Mayor,
that yonr hat will not suffer the slightest
injury.”
Stepping briskly down, be placed the
hat on the stove.
“Now, good people,” ho said, “keep
yonr eye on that hat till you can
Count sixty. I will retire and preparo
the esoterio climax.”
Ho mounted the stage and stepped be
hind tho curtain.
In a moment a smoke went up from
the hat on the stove, and the odor of
something scorching filled the air.
The mayor of Spiketown jumped from
his seat, and with one bound cleared tlie
distance that lay between Mm and tlie
stove.
He lifted his precious hat,
Tho bottom, or rather tlio top, foil
out. Tho sizzing batter spread out over
the stove. It hissed aud sputtered and
flew. And even as the mayor held up
the hideous ruin of his once glorious bat
and looked through it some of tho yel
lowish mixture trickled on his vest and
ran in sad, discouraged, bilious looking
streams down his trousers.
His honor spoke a few words briefly,
but emphatically—through his hat—and
broke for the stage, followed by several
of the leading citizens of Spiketown.
Behind the curtain were several empty
barrels and boxes.
And tlie back window was up.
Somewhere in this wide, wide world
the wizard of the Orient is still wander
ing about, happily unaware doubtless
that a standing reward of fifty dollars
and no questions asked is offered by the
mayor of Spiketown, Ills., for informa
tion that will lead to the arrest and cou-
viction for the crimes of grand larceny,
malicions injury and obtaining money
under false pretenses, of one Hoko Ef-
endi, master of Egyptian magio and so
called eighth wonder of the world.
Csaualtlaa for 01* Months.
Since Jan, 1 there have been four de
structive windstorms, killing nearly 100
persons, viz., April 1, Missouri and Kan
sas, 7#; May 16, Texas, IS; May 27, Wel
lington, Kail., 56; Jnne 16, southern
Minnesota, 50. In the same period there
have been four great floods, viz., April
11, Tomblgbeo river, 230; May 18, Sioux
City, In., 85; May 20, lower Mississippi,
80; Juno 5, tiro and flood, Oil Creek, Pa.,
106. There ulso have been four mining
disasters, viz., Jan. 7, McAllister, I. T.,
05; April 20, Minersvillo, Pn„ 12; May
10, Roslyn, Wnsli., 41; May 14, Butte,
Mon., 11. Three fives have been un
usually disastrous to life, viz., Jan. 21,
Indianapolis Surgical institute, 10; Feb.
7, Hotel Royal, Now York, 80; April 28,
theater, Philadelphia, 12.
Besides these there were on March 21
an explosion at Jordan, Mich., by which
10 lives were lost; June 10, the explo
sion ut tho Mnre Island nnvy yard,
which killod 18, nnd June 15, tho fall
of tlio bridge over Licking river, by
which 83 lives wero sacrificed. Those
are the principal disasters of the year
thus far, and they involvo an aggregate
of 000 lives. Adding to this total the
sum of losses by minor accidents we
have the following sad and unusual
record: By lire, 870; by drowning, 1,804;
by explosions, 818; by falling struc
tures of various kinds, 207; by mine dis
asters, 808; by windstorms, 840, and by
lightning, 120. Grand total, 8,588.
The total loss of life liy these oauses
during tho whole of last year—and 1881
was one of tlio most destructive years
on record—was 5,702.—Chicago Tribune.
A Nlna-ycat-oIU Hero.
In a ward of ono of the city hospitals
lies a little boy who Is slowly recovering
from a surgical operation. He is on'y
nine years old. A wagon wheel rolled
ovor him nbout three weeks ago, and
thou the surgeons amputated one little
log. But the ownor is a brave chap and
patient, and liis bravery lias won for
him a passport Into tlie heart of every
attendant who has seen him. He has
been very greatly interested in the in
valid's shoe the good nurse has beon
knitting for him out of bright worsted.
Sho finished the shoe last wank, aud ho
asked to keep it by liis pillow wiiero lie
could see It. He gazed at the bright lilt
of footgear with Infinite satisfaction,
and then asked:
“When are yob going to make the
othor one?”
Tlio other one, dear? What other
one?"
He glanced down at. the ono foot with,
out n mate.
Yes—I—know. 1—don’t—need—hnt
—just—only—one, do I?”
Then there came a half smothered sob,
the brave little face tnrned toward the
wall and not oven the nurse saw the
big round tear that rolled down to the
pillow. The sorrow of a man had come
to the nine-year-old boy.—New York
Recorder, _________
CountiirfaM Firm Aflimt,
Business men in East Baltimore are
agitated over counterfeit five “dollar
notes. Nearly every day one or more
of these notes turn up at the bank count
ers. The notes are imitations of treas
ury notes of the series of 1880. The pa-
peris of a poor quality and lighter in
color than the genuine note. E _
noticeable is the poor engraving. It
seems to be the work of an amateur or
of a very nervous person. The piotnre
ef Jackson looks like the Impression of
a wood eut. But one feature ie any
where near perfection, and that is the
signatures of Registrar Roseorana and
Treasurer Huston. These are excel
lently counterfeited and would baffle
any one hnt an expert. Bank officials
think a number of these counterfeits
Have been put into circulation within
the past week or two in that section of
the city, and but few have yet gotten
out of that vicinity,—Baltimore Amer
ican. '
A Dad Yaw for Ballroad lliilMIng.
From the retnrns now received at thia
office, collected with unusual care and
thoroughness, we find that during the
six months from Jan. 1 to July 1 there
have been laid in the United States
1,866 mfies of new main track on 115
lines In thirty-five of the states and
territories. Last year at this time we
fonnd that 1,728 miles of track had been
laid, so that it would appear that there
has thus far been a falling off of over 26
per cent, compared with the same
period of 1881. But a review of the
work-in progress throughout the coun
try does not warrant the belief that the
falling off for the entire yoar will be In
any such proportion. Last year showed
the smallest aggregate of track laying,
4,200 miles, that has been reported in
this country since 1885.—Chicago Rail,
way Age.
Idols Not Leu Thun OOO Yours Old.
It is reported from Santa Fe, N. M.
that in excavating some Aztec rains
near Chaco canyon Governor Prince has
unoarthed twonty stone idols of a differ
ent type from any boforo discovered.
They are ciroular in shape, forming
disks varying from six to fifteen inches
in diameter, tlie upper half containing a
deeply carved face and the lower half
rudimentary arms in rolief. Tho idols
are believed to he at least 680 years old,
Salmon X-noker. Discouraged.
There is up improvement in the 'sal
mon outlook. Packers generally are in
clined to take a gloomy view of the situ
ation, and are of opinion that the pack
will be 60,000 to 75,000 cases short of
that of last year. Some of the packers
have ceased taking orders for fish, hav
ing already disposed of as many caseB as
they are likely to put up unless the fish
ing takes a change for the better.—Port
land Oregonian, t
Fire from Bird.' Nests.
On taking off the roof of a honse near
Cambridge, which had been on fire, it
was fonnd that a quantity of straw had
been carried by birds betwoen the root
and the ceiling, and tMs had been ig
nited from a hole in tho chimney. Alto
gether the birds had taken up three or
four sacks of rubbish,—Boston Letter,
■ ■ ... '■■■■
T«« Enalnra In Ihe Col bn.
Vsird .Mulsh 1
There happened quite an !
the yard of the Colnmbns
ro'ad about 8 o’clock Sunday
and had the speed of one of tlie I
that suffered from the collision
greater, several lives might have
lost,
At 8 o’clock n special train, be
a coach full of excursionists was s
uled to leave for Columbnx. Tlie I
stooi) on a stile track just South of
Sam depot, nnd shortly before li
time, bnckeil down on the main !
the tioket office, nenr the new uni
depot.
Tim engineer supposed that
switoli wns Hot, ns soon ns tlie tr
passed, so that the main line was
open. When leaving time arriv
therefore he pulled out for Colombo
ami as the track is straight an
level, had attained a good rite of sp
when the swltoh-trnok was reach
Almost before he had time to sieze l
reverse lever, the engine was on th
switch track und had crashed Into
Inrge freight engine that was standi
there. There was no ono on this
glue, but the passengers firenmii a
engineer of the outgoing train
terribly shaken up, but fortunately
seriously hurt.
Both locomotives were broken up
front, nnd will have to be sent
shop for repairs, at least one of t'
As the Columbus Southern road lie
no other engine In the yard at tl
time, the Central took the eoaoli
their line and carried the pnssen B
through. It Is not known who
blnine for'the nocldent.
!
A Fair lixchnngr.
From tlio XnritivUio Amerloan.
The following nmustng story c
from Weakly county, nnd is vo
for by a prominent gentleman,
oertnin small town In the county
tioned, the Alliance is in the habt
meeting In tho same hall
Knights of PythlsB. One nij
long ago, a member of I lie A
saw a light In the hall, and, sup
his order was in session, samite
and ^nocked on the door,
wns opened-nm! nil Inquiring
peared.
“I plough, I hoe, I spade,” so
remarked the Alllnnceinnn.
“The devil you do I” remark
man on the Inside, closing l lie
The Allinnco innn told the
Borne of his fellows. They
alarmed. “Why, you linvu given
our pass-word!” they exclaim
“Yes,” complacently respon
hero of tlie story, “but I fo
theirs,” j
Till! Xl’ISDOPAI. 4IIIIT
Which la Xoou to He Hulll hi
Those Interested In the bulli
the Kplsoopnl church at DeWi
the project well under way n
work will be commenced at
early date,
Mrs. G. M. Bacon, of
tlie work in olmrgc, and
over $800 havo boen raised
tlon nnd otherwise. Many
members of that church
Albany have contributed II
there are a great many who
yet been seen, and tlio aid whi
will contribute, will help
the good work.
Tho materlnl for the oonstru
tlie ohuroli hns nlready been
It will arrive in a fetv days, a
will then he begun at oticc.
DoWitt Is one of the most
prising of the small towns
State, and It redounds freatly
credit of its good people
they have been able, by l
tence and energy, to construct
of worship. '
Here’s n Coe it One.
Here’s a story that a lawyer
other day:
An Indian paid a lie
money, nnd then stood ns if
for something.
“Whntare you waiting foi
the lawyer.
“Receipt,” said the Indian,
ceipt," said the Inwyer, “a
What do you know about a
Can you understand the nature
receipt? Tell me the nature
and I will give It to you."
“S’pose mabe me die; me go to
ine find the gate locked; me see
Peter; lie say, ‘Jim, what you
Me say ‘Want to get in.’ ‘You
that money?’ ‘Wliat me do, I
receipt; hab to hunt all over b
find you.”
He got hisreoelpt.—Exchange.
We have seen peaches and
this season; but the most deli
all that we have'had the prl
sampling camo from the
Mr. nnd Mrs. C. W. Tift, (
They were not only beauti
hold, but delicious to the taste.
A move Is being made on t'<
the Southern Passenger •
to abolish second-class
all lines offer suoh
present, and thereby (
borers and hnrd-wor'-*
when necessary. 1
these second-class ra‘
have a tendenoy to
the bulk i