Newspaper Page Text
TOE BAD BOY AGAIN.
BE TRIES niS HAND AT FARMING
AND THE RESULT.
He Seems lo Knew When he bn* Got
Knon*h-Ho»- Ihe Deuoon Made Him
Flax Around — And Hew he Made ll
Warm for the Deacon.
[From the Milwaukee Sun.]
“Want to buy any cabbages?” said
the bad boy to the grocery man, as he
stopped at the door of the grocery,
dressed in a blue wamns, his breeches
tucked in his boots and an old hat on
his head, with a hole that let out his
hair through the top. He had got out
of a democrat wagon, and was holding
the lines hitched to a horse about forty
years old, that leaned against the hitch¬
ing post to rest. “Only a shilling
apiece.” ’way,” said the
“Oh, go cents apiece.” grocery man. And
“I only pay three
then he looked at the boy and said,
“Hello, Hennery, is that yon? I have
missed yon all the week, and now you
come onto me sudden, disguised as a
granger. What does this all mean ?”
“It means that I have been the vic¬
tim of as vile a conspiracy stabbed as ever was and
known since • Cffisar was
Mark Antony orated over his prostrate
corpse in the Roman forum, to an audi¬
ence of supes and scene shifters,” and
the boy dropping the lines on the side¬
walk, said, “Whoa, darn you,” to the
horse that was asleep, wiped his boots
on the grass in front of the store and
came in, and seated himself on the old
half bushel. “There, this seems like
home again. ”
“What’s the row? Who has been
playing it on you?” and the grocery
man smelled a sharp trade in cabbages.
“Well, I’ll tell yon. Lately our folks
tiftve been constantly talking of the in¬
dependent life of the farmer, and how
easy it is, and how they would like it if
I would learn to be a farmer. it; They several said
there was nothing like and of
the neighbors joined in and said I hail
the natural ability to be one of the most
successful farmers in the State. They
all drew pictures of the fun it was to
jvork on a farm, where you could get
your work done and take your fish-pole
and go off and catch fish, or a gun and
go out and kill game, and how you could
ride horses, and pitch hay, and smell
the sweet perfume, and go to husking
bees and danoes, and everything, I wanted and
they got me all worked up so
to go to work on a farm. Then an old
deacon that belongs to our church, who
runs a farm about eight miles said out of
town, he came on the scene and he
wanted a hoy, and if I would go out and
work for him he would be easy on me.
It was all a put-up job on me, just like
they play three card monte on a fresh
stranger/ I was took week, in. By and gosh, here’s I
have been out there a
what there is left of me. The only way
I got a chance to come to town was to
tell the farmer I could sell cabbages to
you for a shilling apiece. I knew you
sold them for fifteen cents and I thought
you would give a shilling. So the farm¬
er said he would pay me my wag es iu
cabbages at a shilling apiece and only
charge me a dollar for the horse and
wagon to bring them in. So you only
pay three cents. Here are thirty cab¬
bages which will come to ninety cents.
I pay a dollar for the horse, and when I
get back to the farm I owe the farmer
ten cents, besides working a week for
nothing. Oh, it's all right. I don’t
kick, but this ends farming fpr Hennery.
I know when I have got enough of an
easy life on a farm. I prefer a hard
life, breaking stones on the streets, to an
easy, dreamy life on a farm.”
“They did play it on you, didn’t
they?” said the grocery man. “But
wasn’t the old deacon a good man to
work for ?”
“Good man nothin’,” said the boy, as
he took up a piece of horse-radish and
began to grate it on the inside of his
rough baud. “I tell you there’s a heap
of difference in a deacon in Sunday
Bchool, telling about sowing wheat and
tares, and a deacon out on a farm in a
hurrying season, when there is hay to
get in and wheat to harvest, all at the
same time. I went out to the farm Sun¬
day with the deaoon and his wife, and
they eouldn t talk too much about the
nice time we would have, and the fun;
but the deacon changed more than forty
degrees in five minutes after we got out
to the farm. He jumped out of the
wagon and pulled off his coat, and lei
his wife climb out over tlie wheel, and
yelled to the hired girl to bring out the
milk pail, and told me to fly around and
unharness the horse, and throw down a
lot of hay for all the work animals, and
then told me to run dowm to the pasture
and drive np a lot of cows. The pasture
was half a mile away, and the cows were
-cattered around in the woods, and the
mosquitoes were thick, and I got all
covered with mud and burrs, and stung
with thistles, and when I got the cattle
near to the house, the old deacon yelled in
to mo that I was slower than molasses
the winter, and then I took a club and
tried to hurry the cows, and he yelled
at mo to stop hurrying, ’cause I would
retard the flow of milk. By gosh, I WHS
mad. I asked for a mosquito bar to put
over me next time I went after the cows,
and the people all laughed at me, and
when I sat down on the fence to scrape
the mud off my Sunday pants, the dea¬
eon yelled, ‘Come, come, procrastination
is the thief of time. You get up and go
and feed the pigs.’ He was so mean
that I could not help throwing a burdock
bur against the side of the cow he was
milking, and it struck her right in the
flank on the other side from where the
deacon was. Well, you’d a dide to see
the cow jump up and blat. All four of
her time, feet were off the ground them at the hit same the
and I guess most of
deacon on his Sunday vest, and the rest
hit the milk pail, and the cow backed
against the fence and bellered, and the
deacon was all covered with milk and
eow hair, and he got up and throwed the
the three-legged stool at the cow and hit
her on the horn and it glanced off and
hit me just as I went over the fence to
feed the pigs. I didn’t know a deacon
could talk so sassy at a cow. Well, I
lugged swill until I was homesick to my
stomach, and then I had to clean off
horses, and go to the neighbors about a
mile away to borrow a lot of rakes to use
the next day. I was so tired I almost
■cried, and then I had to draw two bar-
rels of water with a well bucket, to
cleanse for washing the next day, and
by that time I wanted to die. It was
most nine o’clock, and I began to think
about supper, when the deacon said all
they had was bread and milk for supper
Sunday night, and I rasseled with a tin
basin of skim milk and some old back
number bread, and wanted to go to bed,
but the deacon wanted to know if I was
, heathen enough to want to go to bed
without evening prayers, I hadn’t been
in bed more than half an hour before 1
had the worst colic a boy ever had, and
I thought, I should die all alone up in
the garret on tne floor, with nothing to
make my last hours pleasant but some
rats playing with ears of seed com on the
floor, and mice running through some
dry pea pods. Well, I got through the
colic and was just getting to sleep when
the deacon yelled for me to get up and
hustle down stairs. I (nought maybe the
house was on fire, ’cause I smelled smoke,
and I got into my trousers and came
down stairs on a jump yelling ‘fire,’
when the deacon grabbed me and told
me to get down on my knees, and before
I knew it he was into the morning devo¬
tions, and then he said ‘amen’ and
jumped up and said for us to fire break¬
fast into us quick and get to work doing
the chores. I looked at the clock and it
was just three o’clock in the morning,
just the time pa oomes home and goes
to bed in town, when he is running a
political campaign. Well, sir, I had to
jump from one thing to another from
three o’clock in the morning till nine
at night, pitching hay, driving reaper, wheat,
raking and binding, shocking
hoeing com, and everything, and I never
got a kind word. I spoiled my clothes,
and I think another week would make a
pirate of me. I tell you, you think
more of such a man as the deacon if you
don’t work for him, but only see him
when he comes to town. Ho would
make a good mate on a Mississippi river
steamboat if he could swear, and I guess
lie could soon learn. Now, you take
these cabbages and give me ninety cents,
and I will go home and borrow ten cents
to make up the dollar, and send my
chum back with the horse and wagon
and my resignation. I was not cut out
for a former. Talk about fishing, the
only fish I saw was a salt white fish we
had for breakfast one morning, which
was salted by Noah in the ark.”
And while the grocery man was un¬
loading the cabbages the boy went off to
look for his chum, and later the two
boys were seen driving off toward the
farm with two fish-poles sticking out of
the hind end of the wagon.
A COUNTRY’S PEOPLE.
Some fnterefttlnjr Statistic* From the
CentHiH Bureau.
In twenty years the foreign bom pop¬
ulation of Massachusetts increased from
260,106 to 443,491. North Carolina has
the smallest foreign bom population of
any, the proportion being, natives,
1,396,008; foreign, 3,744.
New York has the largest proportion of
foreigners, 1,211,379, against 3,871,492
natives. The StateB where the German
element is strongest are Iowa, with a
foreign born population of 204,692;
Michigan, 268,010; Minnesota, 160,697;
Ohio, 394,943; Illinois, 583,576; Wiscon¬
sin,364,499; Pennsylvania, 587,829.
The civilized Indians number, all told,
66,407, California having 16,277, Arizona
3,493, Massachusetts as many as 7,249,
New York 819, New Mexico 9,772,
Washington 4,405, Wisconsin 3,161, and
Minnesota 2,300. hat
The Southern States have a scanty
proportion of foreigners, Alabama
stands 1,252,771 natives to 9,734 for¬
eigners; Arkansas, 792,175 to 10,350;
Florida, 259,584 to 9,909; Georgia, 1,-
531,616; to 10,564; Kentucky, 1,589,173
to 59,517; South Carolina, 987,891 to
7,686; Texas, 1,477,133 to 114,616; Vir¬
ginia, 1,497,869 to 14,696.
The Chinese flourish in California to
the number of 75,132. Next comes
Oregon, where the pigtails muster 9,510
strong, then Nevada, 5,416; Washington
Territory, 3,186; Idahoe 3,379; Montana
1,765; Utah, 501; Wyoming, 914; Arizona,
1,630; Dakota, 238; Massachusetts, 229;
New York, 909; Colorado, 612; Louisana,
489. In the other States of the Union
the Chinese are but very few. The
total is 105,465, and of Japanese 148, of
whom 86 live in California, 8 in Massa¬
chusetts, 8 in Pennsylvania, 6 in Con¬
necticut, and 17 in New York.
In 1790 one-thirtieth of the population
of the United States lived in cities of
8,000 inhabitants and over: in 1800, one
twenty-fifth ; in 1810 and also in 1820,
one-twentieth ; hi 1830, one-sixteenth;
in 1840, one-twelfth; in 1850, one
eighth ; in 1860, one-sixth, and in 1870
a little over one-fifth. At the last date
the inhabitants of cities numbered, in
all, 8,071,875. It is estimated that in
1880 as many as 12,000,000 persons were
living in cities, or a quarter of the
whole population. twenty who cannot
Of natives over
read and write New York has 26,163, of
foreigners, 95,715; Pennsylvania, 44,930
natives and 36,585 foreigners; North
Carolina, 74,877 natives and only 100
foreigners. single Stato of Illinois there is
In the
a larger foreign born population than iu
all the Southern States put together.
Tlie Centre of Population.
The centre of population, as defined
in the Statistical Atlas of 1874, “is the
point at which equilibrium would be
reached were the country taken as a
plane surface itself without weight but
capable of sustaiuing weight and loaded
with its inhabitants in number and po¬
sition as they are found at the period
under consideration, each individual
being assumed to be of the same gravity
as every other, and consequently to ex¬
ert pressure on the pivotal point directly
proportioned to his distance therefrom. ”
In brief, then, it is the centre of gravity
of the population of the country, and for
the United States this centre is located
eight miles west by south from the heart
of the city of Cincinnati, which places it
in Kentucky one mile from the south
bank of the Ohio river and one and a half
miles southeast of the village of Taylors¬
ville.
Boston girls who got lost in the wood,
in the White Mountains the other day
did not cry “Help,” but “Three ladies
in this direction are in urgent need oi
assistance. ”
TENEMENT HOUSE LIFE.
PICTURES OF POVERTY AND DKIiKA
DATION IN CROWDED DISTRICTS.
Wtant n Visit to the Abodes of the Poor and
Destitute Revealed to an Inspector.
[From the New York World.]
The sun was streaming down in all its
wrath as a reporter and an officer of the
Sanitary Squad picked their way among which
die children and refuse-barrels
obstructed the sidewalks in Mulberry
street. The cool breeze which made
life tolerable in other parts of the city
was wanting there. The heat radiated
from the uneven flagstones and noisome
smells rose from stagnant pools. On
either side of the street towered the
high brick walls of the tenements within
which resided countless thousands of the
city’s poor, whose number defy the
census-taker.
Passing down Mulberry street, where
it was evidently market-day, the side¬
walks and roadway were children thronged scantily with
bare-footed women and
and shabbily clad, who jostled each
other in their eagerness to get near the
various wagons and stands of hucksters.
Entering a dark, narrow alley on Mul¬
berry street, the reporter and his guide
emerged into a court-yard.
A dozen or more bright-faced, healthy
children were playing there. One of
them was flying a miniature kite which
in ifs wildest ascent never rose two feet
above the surface of the ground. Four
old women were ensconced on benches
heedless of their surroundings, while
others were washing clothes in small
tubs, and a number of men sat on the
rickety steps and gazed lazily at the
visitors. The buildings were five stories
high and offered shelter to twenty fam¬
ilies.
ITALIAN HOMES.
The landing of the fire-escapes were
literally covered with bedding, boxes
and refuse, which made egress almost
impossible and would prove a fruitful
source of danger in case of fire.
On ascending the steps a small hall
was discovered whose walls had been re¬
cently whitewashed and which had a
fairly clean and habitable appearance.
Each family has two rooms, the outer
serving for kitchen and dining-room and
the inner for bed-chamber. In these
two rooms are crowded from four to ten
persons when the family and “boarders”
are all at home. At this season of the
year most of the male members of the
'household whose presence is not needed
for rag-picking are “in the country,”
which means that they are working on
railroads or tramping with their organs
and monkeys through the outside towns.
Further down the street were found
the lowest class of Italian rag-pickers.
The odor which came from the out-houses
was something nauseating; remnants of
food were scattered about and the air
was reeking with filth. When asked if
there had been anj deaths in the house
during the season, a boy—the only one
who could speak English—said that all
had been well. On ascending dark,
narrow stairs the rooms were found to
be in a very unhealthy condition.
Still further down the street two large
houses were visited, the appearance of
which was better than any in the quar¬
ter. The walls of the alley-way had
recently been whitewashed and the
inside bore the marks of a late renova¬
tion.
Progress through Baxter the majority street was of
slow. The shopkeepers, Poles—and filthy
whom seemed to be a
looking set they were—displayed their
merchandise on and above the sidewalk
to such an extent that the pedestrians
proceeded with difficulty and discom¬
fort. Second-hand clothing and second¬
hand shoes are the staple goods in Bax¬
ter street.
POLISH HOMES.
One ot the worst houses in the dis
trict which was visited by the reporter
was a five-story rookery where the very
lowest elements of Poles and Italians
herd together. Passing through an
alley-way into a court-yard a scene was
revealed which beggars description.
Congregated in people, that small mclosure
were at least fifty men, women,
hoys, girls and infants. Ragpickers
were continually result coming in with tlieir
burdens, the of the morning s
labor, which they deposited m a loose
pile previously gathered the from neighboring the gut
ters of the city. One of
merchants was offering for sale an arm
fill of old clothes which should have
found a fitting resting place on the heap
of rags. An old woman, bent double
with age, had a small basket of decayed
fish on her arm which she spread before
her customers. Pushing through the
miserable crowd and stumbling over
several infants on a dangerous stairway,
the officer led the way to the roof, which
was apparently the summer bedroom and of
the community. In the corners
along the sides were piles of straw and
rags, covered with vermin and breathing
forth disease and death in the noonday
heat.
On Park street stands one of the lof¬
tiest tenements in the vicinity, the front
being seven stories high and the rear
four stories. Underneath the front por¬
tion, in the basement, were found two
bar-rooms. There are over thirty fami¬
lies in the structure, principally Irish,
with a mixture of Italians, but the ap¬
pearance of the rooms betoken a general
care and neatness.
While walking aloug Mott street the
officer suddenly turned into a basement.
The reporter followed as manfully as
possible, though the darkness prevented
his seeing more than six inches before
liim, windings until, after devious turnings and
and the ascent of a short flight
of tumble-down steps, a small court was
reached.
CHINESE HOMES.
Upon opening a door made Of piain
deal boards a large room was seen,
which appeared to be a Chinese opium
den. A long bunk made of straw mat¬
ting extended nearly across one side of
the room, on which a -white woman was
sleeping off the effects of the drug. On
the opposite side was a double bunk of a
like nature, on the lower part of which a
Chinaman was drowsing. The proprie¬
tor, who was arrested not long ago for
keeping asleep an little opium alcove joint, separated was likewise from
in a
the main room by a sort of grating.
The reporter and his companion made a
tour of inspection of the quarters
left, without awakening the inmates.
In Pell street the officer opened a
unceremoniously and ushered the re
porter into a Chinaman’s private apart¬
ments. A young American woman was
engaged in cooking at the stove, and her
“protector” was sitting on a short bunk
busy with his pipe. In response to a
question the woman said that she and
her sister lived with the Chinaman but
that she did not smoke.
On Cherry street were found the same
houses and the same evidences of misery
and degradation. In one block which
extends back to Baxter street are twc
immense houses in better condition than
the majority. The which janitor’s is quarters are
in the courtyard, large and well
kept. A notice over the door forbade
ball-playing and most of the amuse¬
ments which children seemed to enjoy
with immunity in other places. The
rooms were generally appeared neat be and thrifty. clean and
the inmates to An
old woman whom the reporter addressed
said that there had been but one death
in the house in over a year.
In Leonard life street the something denizens of the
lodging-house of of that
quarter was seen. The proprietor led
his visitors—who, by the way, were not
verry cordially received—through where, a sa¬
loon into a small room, stretched
on benches, were three men sleeping ofl
the effects of intoxication, two old wo¬
men, and a girl who was into smoking a black
clay pipe. A glance a narrow area
showed that two more were asleep. Be¬
yond the small room'wasalongapartment
with a row ef double berths, disgusting
in their appearance, several of which
were occupied by poor wretches. Beds
in this room cost ten cents, and there is
another room up-stairs, somewhat
smaller, where the price is fifteen cents
a night.
The latest “snake story” going the
rounds of the press is headed, “A Young
Lady Tightly Embraced by a Serpent.”
Such incidents are not rare. But the
young lady doesn’t know at the time
that he is a serpent. Sometimes she
doesn’t discover the fact until after she
marries him.
COULDN’T OMIT THE KISSES.
Wasted Sweetness and What it Coat—
A Train Full of Pusengers.
Yes, she was pretty and very charm¬
ing, and was the saucy possessor of one
of the most kissable little mouths that
man ever set eyes on. There was no
doubt at all about that. She liked to
kiss and be kissed too. At least she de¬
monstrated the fact to the perfect satis¬
faction of a car full of people. It all
happened in just the easiest way pos¬
sible. She and her yonng lady com¬
panion took a seat in the forward part
of a car on a train that stood in one of
the railroad stations of the Hub. The
train happened to be an express, which
ran ten miles out of the city before stop¬
ping, but of this the young lady was
most charmingly ignorant. She laughed
and chatted and chatted and laughed
with her companion as if there were no
such things as express trains, or at least
that they would stop at her own sweet
will. The warning bell struck, the en¬
gine backed into the depot, the man
with the signs shouted his monotonous,
“All aboard,” and the train was off.
The conductor quickly put with in an appear¬ ticket
ance and was presented the a city.
for a town about a mile out of
“ We don’t stop there, miss ; don’t
stop till we get to B—. Express, you
see. You’ll have to get off at ‘No-Noth¬
ing’ station just this side of I—(the
place at which she wished to stop).
That’s the best I can do for you,” and
off he went. At first there were threat
enings of a slight April shower, but by
the time the “No-Nothing” was reached
the c i ou ds had vanished and the skies
were clear. Only an instant’s stop is
ever made at this station, but the young
]adv with the kissable mouth seemed to
be in most blissful ignorance of this fact.
To be BUre 8 b e started off all right to
alight in good time, but when she had
reached the door she returned quickly,
retraced her steps, and in the most naive
manner imaginable, and, as if the whole
WO rld were at her disposal, threw her
arm ab out her companion’s neck and be
stowed upon her two crispy little good
b y smacks. Then she tripped started. through
the door and the train The
April showers came and likewise the
conductor. He was a chivalrous man
and she a pretty woman in tears. II
she had been homely the result would
undoubtedly have been different, but as
it was the bell rope was resorted to and
the train brought to a standstill. Pro
fuse in her thanks, she alighted, and
then as she started, womanlike, she
turned and threw a kiss at her friend,
whose anxious face peered at her from
the car window.
“Yes,” said the figure fiend, who has
not a grain of sentiment in him, “but
I’ll wager a fo’pence she never thought
how much that kiss cost. Just see
here. These cars seat sixty people
apiece, there are ten of them and they
are a’l full. That makes 600 people.
We were delayed one minute. hours—a That
makes 600 minutes, or ten
whole working day. Reckon it up as
you are a mind to, there was money in
it, Thunderation! All for a kiss, too !”
and the fiend settled back in disgust.—
Boston Globe.
When a young man becomes impatient
waiting half an hour for his girl, who
left the room with the remark that she
would “be ready in two minutes,” he
should not manifest his uneasiness, but
let his mind revert to the stock of pa¬
tience exhibited by the physician who
counted the holes or cells in the human
lungs and discovered that the whole
number was 174,000,000 .—Morristown
Herald.
This employing college students for
table waiters at summer hotels makes
trouble. You see girls have very little
discrimination at times, and when u
yonng lady is introduced to a youth
whose father may be worth $1,000,000
and she learns that he is a collegian, and
asks, “Oh, were you waiting on table at
the Spray Cliff House last summer?”
it makes a very embarrassing situation.
G" IB" Jones & Comnan
Comer Commerce and Warehouse Sts. J|
C ONYS Bs 0
.
8^
If
-HEADQUARTERS for all kinds of_.
General Merchandise .Jfl
at Bottom Prices
*sr« e tell the MB .MloHraffe^^keep
«], kind 8 0 P
Headquarters y county. the B .* *
Carriage Manufactory ■ ,
:
f
-BY-- J
J W XiANGFOBB • if
<9
Garriages Wagons, Bugies, M i
>
own make.
LL WA R AN ED TO BE FIRST-CLASS IN rfvfy padtioi. 1
Ikeep alS a and B 1
0
Repairing of Carriages, Wagons and Bugg Paau.ng is
of all grades done es , Trimmi
on short notice. *’
ALL KINDS OF FURNITURE REPAIRED AS GOOD AS 1
NE c
have now on hand the largest and best stock of waggons of J a
make, bugies homemade ana of western build that I have ever ew'a “l !(
you nestly want request bargains to you forward had better and call. settle All wh » owe me to r worlr ! ' J si
come promptly. I nee j lh
must have it. These who do not pay promptly will b e given money but ai
time. So you will please settle promptly. gho I
It if
should be rememberd that My establishment is i
GOOD J
li
coffi: to and COFFIN HARDWAI fl
to
SX-COFFIN3 DELIVERED ANYWHERE IN CITY OR COUNT I
Most Resoeetfuliv, I
J- W. LANGFORD. I
I
ISflT ii
LJ t
■ J,
ngvr 036mm swam 281.
——THE MOST POPULAR— 2:4".
EPéLZBEa®EQ ®Zfi$¢3£§fi
—um firm mmmmr
Wholseale Southern Depot for ESTEY ORGANR. Steinwa; D
Weber, Decker Brothers and Gate City PIANOS. I
—DEPOT OF— ii
feiiffaUMP i(
0
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-IMPORTERS DIRECT FROM FTROPE OF- t
Violins, Guitars, Harmonicas Etfl ,
MUSICAL MERCHANDISE, 1 | c <
STRINGS, AND ALL KINDS OF
flfcsT'Nobody v.an underbuy us. Nobody can undersell us.
Estey Organ Company Atlanta Ga <
1
W.H. LEE, Agent. J 1 1
NEAL AND COMPANY, I
JOHN
-WHOLESALE & RETAIL DEALERS IN
Iflllfll P I
NOS. 7 and 9 SOUTH BR0A1I STREET ATLANTA, GA,
Special inducements offered to DEALERS and others in all - 1
niture. A share of the patronage of Rockdale and adjoining coun hase^___
solicited. Be sure and give us a trial before making your purc
THE OLD RELIBLE F1RAM OF
u 1 lj IN-
-DEALERS — Etc
General Merchandise
* railroad block:# GEORG]
CONYERS,
Having been established ifer 18 yca-s- aa< ^ carr ' " il goods a*
smallest complete stocks in the coutry, we c « e
and most
aDj, nnd we guarantee satisfaction. When you wan
RDY GOODS, NOTIONS, CLOTHING
J. KALMAN D& SO &
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