Newspaper Page Text
rp. E m * j loci-: i l_________ Ph
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Vol. I.
A NIGHT OP MISERY.
RIDING IN A LOCKED BOX CAR WITH
TWO SCARED MULES.
An Experience Which, According to
tbs Victim, Made Sherman's Defini¬
tion of War Seem Dike the Descrip¬
tion of a Sunday School Picnic.
“Well,” said the Footprint to Slug
Seven as ho settled down on his stool
and began to throw in a handful of
type, “if I didn’t have a time of it get¬
ting down here out of those moun¬
tains.”
“Been up in the mines?” inquired
Slug Seven.
“Yep,” replied the Footprint. “Just
came out. Footed it from Angels to
Milton yesterday and rode into Stock
ton on a side door sleeper last night. A
side door sleeper,” continued the Foot¬
print, < < is not the most comfortable
mode o'f traveling. Personally I prefer
to ride on a red cushion, but the heart¬
less and exorbitant demand of the rail
road trust.for spot cash compelled me
to walk or come as freight. I came as
freight. ”
"Sure,” said Sing Seven.
“The unpleasant feature of the trip,”
continned the E’ootprint, “was the base
betrayal of confidence on the part of
the brakemau with whom I negotiated
for an undisturbed passage. For a cash
consideration of six bits and a drink of
liquor he verbally contracted to waybill
me from Milton to the division end at
Stockton. We went up street to take
the drink and—well, job know how one
word brings on another. By train time
the $4 I had sunk in my jeans had been
fished to the surface and sent across the
bar for red liquor.
“The brakeman was full when he
started for the yards. So was I when I
started after him. The brakeman CCn
tided to me on tbe way through the
yards that he owned the whole train
and I could ride anywhere and anyway
I wanted to, I told him that I was . nr
roundlng at least a quart of Milton
whisky and if it was all the same to
him and he had a nice, dry, empty box
car I would be shipped as an unbroken
original package, tie agreed, and we
went over where the train was stand
iug made up to find that empty. The
brakeman ran a door open, gave me a
hurried boost in and ran the door shut
and locked it. After a bit I struck a
match to look about and what do you
suppose that cuss bad done? t *
“Give it up,” said Slug Seven.
“Billed me as livestock, by gum!
Fact! There I was locked in a box with
two mules, both 4oose, and all of us
good to keep company to tbe division
end. What was that Sherman said
about war? Said it was hades, didn’t
he? Well, it ain’t. It’s only an imita¬
tion. The real, orthodox, rose colored
hades is to spend a night in a locked
box car with two mountain ranch mules.
“It isn’t a long run from Milton in,
and I concluded, after the train had
bumped along about three miles and
those scared mules had begun to charge
around and kick a rat-a-tat-tat-tat on
the sides of the car, that the only plan
of campaign left to me was a flank
movement and a sudden mounting of
one of the animals. It wouldn’t be a
dream of pleasure on that mule’s back,
but it would be safer than dodging foul
rapid fire hind heels unlimbered for ac¬
tion. I got on the mule all right, and
after a little bucking Ife steadied down
tolerably well. The animal was evi¬
dently scared to death and seemed to
take comfort in being straddled by a
rider.
“Well, I was just chuckling to my¬
self over the state of affairs in the live
stock department of the Espee railway
and figuring that another hour would
see us in the division yards, where my
friend the brakeman would open the
door, when the train stopped, evidently
at a siding, as I knew we weren’t near
a station. We bumped about a bit and
I took a double wrap in the mule’s ears;
then we stood still while some other
cars were bumped about and then I
heard two short tcots of the whistle and
a rumble that gradually grew fainter.
The train had pulled out and we were
side tracked. 1
“We staid there till morning, too,
and I rode that son of a jackass, with a
backbone like the ridge of a church
roof, up and down and aronnd that car
every weary minute of all that weary
night. To quit riding meant to go to.
sleep, fall off and have the liver and
high lights and half tones trampled
and kicked outr of me by two scared
mountain mules.
“I estimate that I rode that mule 136
miles and three furlongs in that car,
and the car traveled 17 miles before be-
Statesboro, Ga., Thursday, May 25th, 1899
ing side tracked. The remaining three
miles of the 20 between Milton and
Stockton I made on foot, thus complet¬
ing a journey of 156 miles a fur¬
longs in a straight line between two
given points that are but 20 miles
apart, a mathematically impossible feat,
accomplished by one jackass with the
aid of two relatives on the male side ol
the house.”
The Footprint sighed as he paused to
bite off a chew of tobacco, and Slug
Seven took advantage of the opening to
remaik that a man who had traveled so
far under such circumstances must be
dry.—Chicago Inter Ocean.
New York a City of Auctions.
New York is the, city of auctions.
There are 800 reputable auction bouses
and three times that number of auc¬
tioneers in New York, and they do a
yearly business of about $75,000,000.
This does not take into consideration
the transactions of scores of small auc¬
tioneers who devote themselves entirely
to the wants of the east side.—New
York Herald.
Stirrups were unknown to the an
cierres. They were first used in the fifth
century of our era, but were not in
common use even in the twelfth cen
tury.
Pools on Murder Cases.
Bookmaking in murder cases is one
of the forms of gambling here, which
has opened a new field to the men who
are willing to lay odds. The suggestion
smacks of the ridiculous, but a gaudily
dressed young man, with a few “notes”
in his left band and $40 in money in
his right, appeared in the criminal
branch of the supreme court here a few
days ago. “Who’s on trial?” he asked
an officer. Being told, he consulted his
notes and said:
“Let’s see. Lawyer Blank; defense,
insanity; charge, murder. ” And then,
turning to the doorman again, “I’ll bet
you 1 to 10 he’s acquitted. » *
The court officer looked puzzled, but
was astounded when the gaudily dressed
informed him he was making “book.”
The court officer saw that he made
tracks, but not before over $900 in bets
had been placed on the outcome of the
case. An investigation showed that
there are a large number of these book
makers doing business around tbe New
York courts, and their profits are said
to be very large.—New York Letter in
Pittsburg Dispatch,
Lander's Cravat.
At a friendly dinner at Gore House,
when it was the most deligbtful of
houses, his dress—say, bis cravat oi
shirt collar—had become slightly disar
ranged on a hot evening, and Count
d’Orsay laughingly called his attention
to tbe circumstance as we rose from
table. Landor became flushed and great
ly agitated. “My dear Count d’Orsay,
I thank youl My dear Count d’Orsay,
I thank you from my soul for pointing
out to me the abominable condition to
which I am reduced! If I had entered
the drawing room and presented myself
before Lady Blessington in so absurd a
light, I would instantly have gone
home, put a pistol to my head and
blown my brains out. ”—“Landor’s Let¬
ters. i»
Selvvyn's Carious Taste.
George Selwyn had a strange but not
uncommon passion for seeing strange
bodies, especially those of his friends.
He would go any distance to gratify
this pursuit. Lord Holland was laid up
very ill at Holland House shortly before
his death. George Selwyn sent to ask
how he was, and whether he would like
to see him. Lord Holland answered
“Oh, by all means! If I’m alive tomor¬
row I shall be delighted to see George,
end I know that if I an^dead he will
be delighted to see mel”—Letter of
General Fox.
An Inference.
“Such are the delusions to which the
human senses and understanding are
susceptible, ” remarked the man who
doesn’t care whether you comprehend
him or not, “that, logically speaking,
it is absolutely impossible to be also
ltltelv sure of anything.”
“Dear me!” exclaimed Miss Cayenne.
“I didn’t know you were one. 11
“What? 11
“A weather prophet.”—Washington
star,
The Difference.
“Pa, what’s the difference between
talent and genius? I *
man with talent is able to build
for himself the finest Monument in the
country. The public usually has to
provide the monument tor a genius.”—
Boston Journal.
A DARK SHADOW.
I never saw my mother's face;
Bod drew u shadow o'er my Iwby oyea,
And there it lies,
Unchanged by time or place;
But I have felt her hiving breast
Breathe heart sore sighing for the joys I miss
And felt her kiss
Upon my eyelids pressed.
I never saw God's lovely world,
But I have listened to the whispering trees
foul felt the breeze
That spring’s sweet leaves uncurled.
I never gazed upon a rose.
But I have laid the flower against my cheek
And heal'd God speak
And mysteries disclose.
And he has made me understand;
Though dark the shadow- that now holds me
blind,
God is behind.
Unseen 1 feel his hand
Aral know that from my darkened eyes
The lifelong shadow will be rolled away
One solemn day.
Oh, rapturous surprise!
My happy lips e'en now must sins.
These eyes, unclosing in the streets of gold,
Will first behold
The face of Christ, my King.
—Feodora Boll in Good Words,
REPARATION.
A Strnnpe Coincidence In the Life of
u Fireman.
“Soon after 1 entered the fire depart¬
ment,” remarked a hostler of the city
fire department, “it was my bard luck
in responding to an alarm to run over
and terribly injure a small boy, who
was playing in the street. It was an
unavoidable accident, but just the same
it had its effect upon me, and for a
time it preyed heavily on my mind and
probably would have done so until to
dav had it not been for the sequel.
which righted up matters somewhat.
“I kept myself pretty well informed
as to the condition of the boy, and was
extremely happy when I saw him on
the streets again and to all appearances
fully recovered from the injury which I
had inflicted upon him. Well, time
passed along, and. the bov’s family hav
mg sided moved ________________________ from the’house took’hi where ___________ he re
and where we waf ter
injury, for awhile I did not see him,
“One rather rniHi n i»ht ° about
year afterward our company- responded
to an alarm in tbe northwestern part of
the city. On arriving at the fire I was
sent to one of the upper rooms of the
burning building to rescue some chil
dren who were in the room and who
were terribly frightened, as they had
good reasons to be. for they were in
considerable danger. There was a light
burning in the room, and the moment
I entered it I recognized the little fel
low that I had driven over and injured,
If there ever was a little fellow who
was carefully wrapped up in bedclothes
and with his little sister taken down
stairs and to a piace of safety, you can
bet it was that boy and gisl. The same
look of fright was upon his face, which
I had not forgotten, but I don’t think
my face looked as bad as when I had
picked him up in my arms before. I
was supremely happy in being able to
return some good for the ill I had done
him.”—Washington Star,
A Poet's Impressions of Nilsson's
Singing'.
New York, Sept. 20, 1870.
I went at 1 o’clock today to hear
Nilsson. She sang in concert at Stein¬
way hall; t’other artists were Vieux
ternps, the violinist; Wehli, pianist;
Brignoli, tenor, and Verger, baritone.
Mile. Nilsson singeth as thou and I
love. She openeth her sweet mouth and
tvrrneth her head u’ one side like a
mocking bird in the moonlight, and
straightway cometh forth the purest sil¬
ver tones that ever mortal voice mr.de.
Her pianissimo was like a dawn, which
crescendo’d presently into a glorious
noon of tone, which then did die away
into a quiet gray twilight of clear, me¬
lodious whisper. She sang nothing mean
or light or merely taking. Handel’s
“Angels Ever Bright and Fair,’’solo; a
duet with Brignoli, by Blangini, and a
noble solo, a scena from Ambroise
Thomas’ “Hamlet” (the insane song of
Ophelia), with “Herne, Sweet Home, # *
for encore—these were all.—“A Poet’s
Musical Impressions,” by Sidney La¬
nier, in Scribner’s.
Speech anil Hands.
A professor who has made a study of
children says he has discovered why
the majority of the people are right
banded Infants use both bands until
they begin to speak The motor speech
function controls the right aide of the
body, and the first right handed mo
tions are expressive motions, tending
to help out speech As speech grows so
does right handedness.
A VERY QUEER DEAI *
iN A FAMOUS GAME OF DRAW POKER
IN OLD DAKOTA
The Denier Gave His Rival Four
.lacks and Himself Four Queens.
When the Show Down Caine, the
•lacks Had Turned to Aces.
In the northwest they still talk about
the last poker game that Major Ed
wards and Stanley Huntley played to
gether. They were pioneer editors of
newspapers in Dakota in the old terri
tonal (lajs. Huntley had just sold his
paper in Bismarck for $2,501) cash and
was coining east, tie and the major had
sat in many a quiet game together, and
Huntley went over to the major’s iast office
to say goodly and play one game.
The major produced the cards, locked
the door, and the two faced u green ta
ble.
The major had the reputation of be
mg a skillful dealer, and Huntley’s
previous experiences bad taught him
that cards sometimes appeared in the
major’s hand on a show down whose
legitimate existence could only be at
counted for on the hypothesis that the
age of miracles had nut passed. So be
had fortified himself for this farewell
game not only wiHi the $2,500 which
he had received for bis newspaper prop¬
erty. but also with four large but not
overworked aces.
There was no limit, but for an hour
the game went along quietly enough
Tlie major was out $800 or $400. but,
as both players remarked, the game was
“young yet.” At last a jack pot for $50
came and remained. Back and forth
acl<!Sa the . table , , went the , deck. Neither ^
man could get openers. Each time the
«eal passed , the pot was sweetened $-10
' At last there was $880 on the table,
The major , dealt. _ , TT Hunt.ey , , looked , ,
over
his cards and found four jacks.
As has been said, the major was a
slick dealer, and when a big pool was
stake and it was bin deal he gener
managed to give his opponent a
good stiff hand, while taking care that
“ e h,ulse ff had one just a shade better
e
jacks in his hand it seemed to him that
the time had come to precipitate his
four aces into action The jacks were
retired unostentatiously, and with a
faint—a very faint—shade of disap
lament . . , his . . TT Huntley
in voice an
nmiaL ‘ e '
“1 can t break it.
The major was still examining his
ca ^swith , that hesitating air that , some
P eo *’ ,e h 1 V[ b * , el, *Y e “ ea ?* “Undying
out a straight. . Finally he said;
“I'll have to break it for$500. It’s a
big pot.”
Huntley looked mournful and said
11 I’ll stay Gimme a card. ”
“None for me, ” announced the major
briskly, as lie threw over a card and
laid down tbedeek. “I’ll bet you $500. ’
“I’ll raise you $500,” said Huntley
“Fivehundred more,” eaid the major
“When I sat down.” said Huntley,
“I had $2,500 in my pocket. I’ll raise
you the full amount of that on this one
hand If I lose, I’m broke.”
The major took another look at his
hand and replied
“I haven't got as much as that in
cash I’ll make out a bill of sale of the
building and plant, newspaper and all.
and put that in the pot If you win,
you can hold it till tomorrow, when I’ll
8et ^ e -
“Go ahead,’ _ said _ Huntley.
The major wrote out the bill of sale
and threw the slip of paper into the pot
on top of tbe big pile of greenbacks,
Both men had emptied their pockets.
“Now I 11 call you, said the major,
“Fours,” said Huntley, and he laid
down bis four one spots. The major
never flinched. He examined the aces.
one after another. Then he laid down
his hand and said briefly;
"You win, Stanley All I had was
four queens.”
The next day the major redeemed his
bill of sale and Huntley came to New
York and began to write the “Spoopen
dyke Papers, ” which were first publish
ed in the Brooklyn Eagle He’s been
dead for years now
About two years after the famous
poker game Major Edwards was visit¬
ing New York, and he looked up Hnnt
ley They dined together at the Astor
House. After coffee and when the cigars
bad been lighted tfie major said:
“Stanley, of course when gentlemen
like you and I play poker together
there’s never any question about the
game being straight. But there’s one
thing that’s been puzzling me for two
years, and I want to ask you about it. ’
“Go ahead, major,” said Huntley,
puffing his cigar.
“Stanley, why in thunder did you
I I
“G I
refuse to open that last jack put \\l l
yon bad four jacks in your hand'”
“Major, ” returned Huntley thou
fully, laying down his cigar, “v.L.i
dealt that last hand?”
* » I did, Stanley, said the major.
“Well. then, major, since four aces
t ho -put, huw in thunder ct • • -U| t
have been a straight game?”
“That’s so. said the major re
flectively “ r ’s get a cab and fa
some theater : New York Press.
—
Uses of the Music tioli.
Enter girl with that subtle air of re
finement which belongs only to such 11
earn their living and are ashamed of ,s
“1 wish to look at music roils,”
says
Smiles the clerk affably.
t t Here is something very fine ” he
says "Weguarantee that butter w.a:
soak through it so as to show on ti.-o
outside. ”
Yes, the habit of eating certainly
does get people intoawkwaid •ituau :.i
now and then.—Detroit Journal.
____________
HIs Only Chiince.
..p) 0 y 0 n know t> \- u bulk in your
g j eep< Henry V' asked’ a Peck
“Well, do you begrudge me these
few words also?” lie snapped back.......•
Philadelphia North American.
A i.n.ivv
A lady living on Park avenue, Wal
nut hills, was recently pr< .anted with a
full blooded impacted dachshund, a Kv
ing exemplification of the s.iyi.cg,
“Man wants but little here below, I or.
be wants that little long.’’ This do;r in
particular has all the fine points of »
true dachshund, Its length is at ler.st
four times its height, and its b
stumpy and have the conventional
of a golf stick at the foot. The holy
has several cither dogs and is quit a a
fancier of canines. The other evening a
gentleman called who bad heard a gieat
deal of the celebrated animal. As 1.3
entered the darkened parlor a smnb
yellow dog of no particular breed-aro«o
from a mg in front of tbe grate imffi
unnoticed by the gentleman, slowly
crossed half way over the threshold ;.nd
stood in such a position that a p -r- >
in the parlor could just see its hind
legs and tail. At that moment the maid
lighted the gas. and the dachshund
poked its head inquiringly through an¬
other open door. The gentleman gazi 1
in amazement at the head of the dachs¬
hund peering at him from one doorway
and the hindquarters of another th y
visible in the other doorway, and tin a
in the hearing of theservo’it - jaculr.t \i
"Lord a-mighty! I heard that tint
dachshund of hers was a long one, hot
this animal certainly beats my time 1
—Cincinnati Enquirer.
Drawn at Xlglit.
The architect and his friend the
builder were driving back to t.h Ga¬
mer’s office. They had been cut to tbe
edge of the city to look at some work
on which they were engaged. As they
drove by a certain house tbe builder
looked up at it proudly, saying : “There
is a house that I built myself. I not
only built it, but I drew all the plans.
Every bit of work in it is mine.” The
architect looked at the house and smiled
in a provoking way.
The builder noticed the smile arid
] 00 ked at the house in a new !i\!;t
“How hard I worked on that!” be evi.
“In the daytime I bn<I to do something
e j 8e( but every night I would sit up lato
* drawing on those plans I drew on ’em
eve ry night for a month. ”
The architect looked at the house
again and smiled once more, and the
builder saw him.
Again he turned liiu eyes toward the
product of bis brain, twisted his peck
to squint at it after the carriage had
passed it. Then he looked at the archi¬
tect with humility. “It locks as if
those plans w< » 'drawn at night, doesn’t
it?" he said, and there was oath, s in
his voic&—Worcester Ga--. H
He Walkcil,
Time, lip. m. '*T;iey tell me your
gait was esteemed one of the finest in
tbe regiment. ”
“Yon flatter me. ”
“No; Lieutenant Wagstaff said you
inarched magnificently ”
“The lieutenant may not 1e a good
judge.”
“I fancy he is. To my mind then' >
nothing that makes a man mere pi e
sen table and really tractive dcci a
graceful walk My curiosity ; ctvmlv
aroused “Certainly.' May I ask a favor of you v
“Then i would like to see you walk
And she handed him his hut. —Cleve¬
land Plain Dealer.