Newspaper Page Text
VOL. V. -NO. 36.
THE SEA’S I,OVE.
BT F. E. WEATHF.BLT.
Once In the <’ay« of old,
In the ,<-»rs of youth and mirth.
•ri? sna was a lover bright and bold,
And he loved the golden earth.
The sun, in his royal raiment c.tul,
Loved her and found her sweet,
Put the sei was content and glad
Only to lie at her feet.
>li' that the bard should sing
And wail for the golden years;
Love was and is but an id'e thing,
’Tis but a wind that veers.
And earth in her beauty and pride
Held h r lips to the wooing sun;
He «aid, “ Thou art fair, O, my bride, ’
Ard she sang, “I am thine alone.”
The faithful sea at her faithless feet
Rolled with a broken moan;
>•0, sun I” he cried, “but thy bride is sweet,
And I am alone, alone 1”
Ah 1 that the bard should sing
And wail for the golden years;
Love was and is but an idle thing,
’Tis but s wind that veers.
Oft would the sun depart,
And his bride in her g'oom made moan.
And the tea would cry that hei loving hear'f
Should be left to p ne alone.
And his voice is strange and sad and sweet,
“0! love, not mine 1 not mine I
I am content to lie at thy feet,
And to love thae in etorm and shine.”
Ah I that the bard should sing
And wail for the golden years;
Vie was and is but an id’e thing,
’Tis but a wind that veers.
TRICKSOF BUXKO MEN.
Ingenious Devices for Swindling Unsus
pecting Countrymen.
A New York Nmm i eporter has recent
]y interviewed a confidence operator in
that city, wi h the following result:
An introduction to “Confidence Sam”
was managed by the re. orter in such a
manner that while the report *r knew all
about the hvako man, that iadirdnal
had no idea who or what the reporter
was beyond the suppos.tion that he was
the friend of a friend.
“How do we work the confidence
racket? In the first place, you must
know that we work in sections of four,
and each has his professional title, ac
cording to the part he plays in leading
up to the grand finale of the comedy—
Hie pocket-book. Arti t No. 1 is the
hand-shaker. Art’st No. 2is the s eerer.
After him c>mes the arti tic player,
who is No. 3 in the combination: and
la t, but by no means least, in the com
pany, is the joint keeper, whose pres
ence is needed to give an artistic and
efficient completeness to the whole con
cern
“The ranks being complete for work,
all that remains, my boy, is to wait for
money to come along like fish for the
ba t. And it con.es every time, you can
bet, if you go about it right. Just
stand in the Bowery and watch it. I
tell you what, the old Dutchmen who
were bossed by Peter Stuyvesaut did
not know what a gold mine they were
creating when they started that i. eauti
ful Bowery. A lellow coming from the
country wants to see the Bowery, and
we show him some things he never
dreamed were there.
“Well, as I was raying, we stand out
side Jhe joint and wait until a guy
comes along. The guy', yon know, is
what is commonly known as the green
horn from the country. It don't re
quire a physiognomist to pick him out
ot a crowd. He gives himself away at
once. You can see him looking around
everywhere, with eyes and mouth w de
o; cm, taking in all he can of wonderful
Aew 1 ork. We at once take a philan
thropic interest in his welfare, you
hnow, so we retire and leave the field to
the hand-shaker, to get the guy’.- name.
c aii anges his attire with scrupulous
care, adorns his face with a most win-
Hing sni’le, and saunters down slowly 7
towarfthe guy to give him the duke,
Whv ii 'i S . sa ?- ?' hat is lhe dl ‘ke?
” duke is the hand.
1 acre, he’s met the guv, and smiles
n reeogn ton of the stranger. The
wntrvman, vou'll find, is delighted to
. 80 “ e 0110 in the b >g city who
the” 18 tO , i " O '\ dve see » and tak es
S“ k , 118 «I U.« hand!
S»„ lalter 0IM ”
o’d f,.u 11 0 A ? r ,’ llei 'kimer: how are you,
von ’ t’ V ltsm,,,!ths ‘dnee I’ve seen
name ih1 8 T r * p,,d ate lh «
would 1 give you my word,
cm ill " , e °n> letel.- nonpl s ed:
he i Vi 11 * ttut the moment
man h hl® - he g V y Say he 5s not th®
inan he is taken tor, why, ti.at
y moment Jack begins to get in
bis line work to hook the“fish. And he
SSni S i th tr° by Pretending to be
•W.? 1 > ied that ie 11 as ma lea mistake.
ma>-k’ii>P°’ a i"? )rd ‘ that s ver y r°'
'•red
confiden n ~, • lngna " e ‘ f or which the
Pard.)n en bu? ,a^ v Pe i U^ r -
on- wh<. m ii'* never saw anv
Herkimer. wS iV^' 11 1 Fr d
1 can hardlv hlr’ 1 ° V>i yoM lny word,
Hot Fred ila ; belloVo now that you're
by d’ avit ~ v g a ,f raetlcal °ke on me
s .' e ', Ixho or
to all y Ch 13 the sanie thing
in with Jack’s h P irf UrpO ' eß ' and chilUos
“ ‘<m i hearty g U aw .
’ierkimer hnt t *1 be n’t
Taplev 'ih„ ,i ha ’ , lny name’s John
tin’ some cfc jT Ada ' ns
town vest.-r «k • s ’ , dest got inter
n’t it? niomin. Fine place be
liom fa He d hn 8 “ Ot Pro’onghis. onversa
drops | ■,?) pre 'Vx“ g business, and
• & iku,? 163 ;" -j,?" I ! Adam '- like
away from ’ Ut hurry to get
behind the oolite"* 111 ? OiaU is Bcrccn « d
T aplev vo ° te ‘Well. Mr.
I’m sun* n Pardon the mistake,
have an cn<r l m°m e 11 mo€t a S ain I
so you 11 ( .^, genieu^ . t° attend to now,
Thl; s i a K se r if 1 b*™ you, sir?
' v . arnil /’ and Tapley
v «rv sociable C °i nv lUced that there are
voK°£ ta Wrk. > U
before be is overt ,v’ VOa be sure,
into the joint p n „ keiK dat ‘k rushgs
moment he «ets away
Cljc Ofilton CVfijuc,.
from the guy, and announces to the
waiting steerer; ‘The fellow’s name is
Tapley. He’s from North Adams?
The book of names and addresses, which
is sometimes called The Confidence
Directory, is hauled out of a drawer. It
is a volume prepared with great care,
and represents the information gleaned
by the travels of the confidence o] orators
through the country. It contains the
names of the Presidents of I anks in all
lhe towns of the country. The steerer
runs rapidly through the pages devoted
to Massachusetts, finds the name of the
Pre-ident of a North Adams bank, and
is instantly ready for business, and to
play bis part as the suddenly created
no hew of the said bank President.
Jack drops out of the job temporarily
now.
“ The steerer, as nephew 7 of the bsnk
President, first overlakes Taplev, then
runs ahead of him a little way and
turning about suddenly seizes his hand,
as usual with effusive cordiality, and
exclaims:
“•Why, Tapley, my boy, shake!
When did you get down irom North
Adams?’
“ Tapley is more than ever impressed
with the extreme r endliness of s ran
geis in the big city, but is especiady
surprised that any one should know hts
name. Ihe steerer then explains with
a smile who he is, or rather who he is
not, and asks affectionately after Tap
ley and all his friends. He lets the
countryman do most of the talking, and
the eby gains a clue t much of the
la ter's personal and family history.
This he uses so deftly that he is soon
completely in Ta, lev’s confidence, and
makes the latter really believe that ho
has met a fellow townsman. The steer
er does not burry matters. He leads
his victim by easy stages to the trap set
tor him, walks with him toward the
joint as thev talk. Near the door of the
la'ter, which is always a drinking sa
loon. the steerer says:
“ ‘By the way, John, if you’re going
I ack again to-morrow, as you say, you
might take up something 1 have or
dered for mv uncle and the folks. It
will be a big favor, and will save me
the ne essitv of cutting short mv visit,
as I feared I w uld have to. You see
I want to stay a few days longer on
some private business, 'lhe packages
are right in here now 7 ,1 guess.’
“They enter the saloon, where the
bartender has been expecting theircom
ing for some time.
“ ‘ Have those packages come for me
yet?’ asks the steerer.
“ ‘No, sir; not yet? responds lhe bar
tender.
“‘Ah, that’s funny? re’o'ns the
steerer. ‘They ought to be here by
this t me? Then ho turns to Tapley
and savs: ‘T et’s take a drink and wait
i little while?
“The bartender pr duces the liquor,
sn I the steerer catches a glimpse of a
lice box near the cigar 1 ghter, calls
for it, and legins to toss about the
ivory cubes listlesslv. He produces a
Five dollar bill, meantime, and tenders
it in payment for the drinks. This act
is simply a prearranged signal, and an
accomplice, sce ng the b 11, suddenly
opens the front door, and dashing in as
if in a hurry, in ,uires of the bartender:
“‘t an you ch nge me a tive-dollar
bill?’
“The birteuder laughs pleasantly.
•I can change one bill? he remarks, ‘but
this gentleman also wants one changed.
I can’t accommodate both?
“The new comer stud’ously avoids
recognizing his confederate. He sim
ply says, with marked suav.tv.
“‘Oh, well, no matter Thcgent’e
man was here first He’s entitled to
the change. I just jumped mi’ a Th rd
avenue car a moment ago because the
conductor could not change more than
atwo-dollar note. I have no doubt I
can get the change next door!’
“Not to be outdone in gentlemanly
behavior by a stranger, the steerer. who
has the countryman from North Adams
in tow, replies:
“ ‘Won’t you join us, s’r? We were
just having a soc.al glass together when
you entcre I?
“i he confederate hesitates about ac
cepting the invitation, being ‘a perfect
stranger, you know? but at length, as
a happy compromise, he says:
“ u o. 1, I lell you what I’ll do, I’ll
throw you for the drinks, and the man
who loses pavs. That wi 1 settle whose
Li 1 will be changed, too.”
“The two sharpers to this and
the dice are thrown. The countryman
looks n, and, as a matt r of cours •,
sees the new’ comer s ucx for the drinks.
The loser pretends to be anxiou to
throw 7 again for -atis action. The
st erer whi pers ■on dentially to the
countryman that he wi 1 give the stran
ger all he wants and proceeds to intro
duce the game that is intended to ueece
the gy. It is called top and bottom,
and the steer r illu-trates it to he sup
posed stranger. lie tosses the three
dice on the ounter and count; the snots
on the top of each. T hen he t irns them
up ide d wn and counts the spots on th >
reverse side, . nd adding both totds to
gether finds the, make twenty-one. The
eon ederate eon ents to play the n w
game after a little parley, and the steer
er throws again, and to the apparent
surprise of the con edera e again ob
tains twenty-one. The confederate con
siders this a wonderful coincidence and
exc aim :
“•See here. I’ll b t you a box of
cigars you can’t <Io that aga n ’
“ ‘ Done! It’s a go? cries the steerer,
winking at the countryman. The box
is shaken and the cubes tossed on the
bar <nd counted. Again the spots foot
up twenty one. Countryman Tapley is
both interested and mvstilied. and. ob
sori iu< r this, the confederate leaves tne
victim alone with the steerer to prepare
DALTON, GEORGIA, SATURDAY, APRIL 28, 1883.
the bait that will draw him into the
game.
“‘Just wait a moment, till I wash
my hands? he says, ‘and I’ll bet you
again. ’
“He retires to the rear of the saloon,
turns on the water, and washes h s
hands long enough to give the steerer
time to explain io the vi tim a< ommon
place act aoout dice mat tew but pro
fessional sharpers are generally aware
of. The steerer throws the dice half-a
dozen times, and ea h time the result is
twenty-one. Then he shows the coun
tryman that the arrangement of the
spots is su-h that no other number can
be possibly 7 thrown, it the top and bot
tom spots be a filed. '1 he countryman's
face beams wi h sudden enlighten
ment as the circums ance dawns upon
him.
“ 'Why, it’s a dead sure thing every
time; don’t you see? says the steerer,
jubilantly. ‘That fellow who just came
in has got more money than • rains.
We’ll win a lot of his cash from him
easily?
“The confederate rejoins thegroupat
this stage. His manner is not so suave
as at the outset. He has become very
irriiable. in fact, and swears in a most
emphatic wav when he loses a ten-dol
lar bill on the next throw of the dice
The countryman be ins to pity him,
knowing, as he supposes, how utterly
hopeless his chances of winning are.
His advice is rouirhly spurned by the
ungracious stranger, who leigns great
Tagcat his inter erence.
“ ‘lf you th nk it’s such an easy thing
to win my 7 monev, ’ he cries, ‘why, blast
your eyes, y.ou’d better tackle me your
self. 11l bet you ten dollars, twerttv
five dollars—\es. one hundred dollars—
in greenbacks, and give you odds, that
neither of you can throw 7 twenty one.
Ii you’re both so confoundedly smart
why don’t you tak • the bet?”
“'1 his st rs up the bile of Mr. Tapley
from North Adams. He begins to think
it really would serve, the ungracious
stranger right to teach him that he is a
tool. This feeling is ingenio isly en
couraged by the sharpers. Consequent
ly Mr. Tap'ey acquiesces when the steer
er w h spers:
“‘Goon, Mr. Tapley; back me, or
back youn-elf if you rather. We’ll take
the con eit out of him.’
“The countryman yanks out his aged
leather pocket boox, i lunges his fin
gers into its ca; acious depths, and
counts out two tens and a live, and me
stranger p anks down three ten-dollar
notes, giving the promised odds on the
bet.
“ A change came over the spir’tof the
game the moment the dust is put up.
The cubes are metamorphosed with
lightning-like ra’ iditv, for the steerer
summons to his aid a doctored die. In
stead of being spotted from one to six,
as are ord nary dice, this false cube has
two faces, each marked five little black
spots. The steerer nolds this concealed
beneath the third joint of his litt e fin
ger, pressed against the palm, and as
he scoops up the dice into the box for
the next throw removes one of them
and substitutes the doctored cube. The
change is made in an instant, and so
deltly that the countryman ecu d not
detect it even if he suspected the hon
estv of his opponent, which he does
not as yet. The presence of the false
die ruins what the s' eerer w’as plea-ed
to illustrate as a dead sure thing. His
vict m might throw the dice until he
grew gray without being able to secure
the twenty-one he has wagered on.
Unconscious of this, howe er. Tapley
picks up the box confidently, shakes t
thoroughly, and casts the cubes out on
the bar. The steerer adds up their
si ots, and lo! they aggregate but nine
teen.
“It would be impossible to picture
in words the exp’ession of amazement
that distends the c\es and lowers the
jaw of the countryman as he w tnesses
this unexpected ‘performance of the
cubes. It would be equally difficult to
imagine more in lense ndignation than
that which seemingly overcomes the
steerer.
“‘Look here, stranger, you bit my
arm just a.i 1 was counting those dice
for my friend, and 1 didn’t turn over the
last die. The bottom soots did not
come uppermost as they should?
“ ‘ 1 don’t xnow anything about that?
replies the other. ‘All 1 Know, is, I’vo
got the money, and I’m going to keep
Ft?
“The steerer insists upon another
throw of the d ce, and the countr, min
waits in anxious suspense while the two
dispute. The steerer places the genu
ine die in the box meantime, and dem
onstrates lo the \ ctimthat he could n 4
possibly have lost had the cubes been
turned over properlv when the bo torn
spots were counted. He completely
satisfies the countnman of this and
also expla ns that the can not properly
claim the money lost by the supposed
accident. That was (me of the chances
in the game. It couldn't happen again
in a thousand times. Finally he in
duces the countryman to go halves
with him in another bet, promising that
they will win enough not only io cover
the twenty-five dollars, but to return a
handsome sum for the venture. Then
ho turns to the confederate and savs:
“• Your clumsiness cost my friend
twenty-live dollars?
“ ‘Oh, I did. d d I? returns the con
federate. “Well, I’ll bet one hundred
dollars that you < an t throw twenty-one
and I’ll stand aw 7 ay from you?
“ The steerer closes with the offer at
once. He puts up i sty dollars as his
share, and the countryman goes down
aga’n in his pocket and stakes the bal
mice* .9
“ The false die is again introduced, i
and this time the thee cubes count up
You’ve lost ag n and the money’s
mine? < l ies the co . ederate, grabbing |
tho pile of green' acks.
■ “ A first-class scheme, you see, and
uo mistake.”
“ i ut suppose the countryman sus
pects something. and makes a fuss? ’
inquired the reporter.
“Suspects someth ng, Sam; why of
3our.se he suspects something now, if he
is not a clean-gone idiot. But then tho
boys are read, 7 lor that. The moment
ho squeals and talks about being swin
dled the sharpers ma ea ti emendous
noise, and the confederate refuses to
listen to any protests. When the up
roar is at its he ght the keeper of the
joint appears and plays ‘he highly 7 re
spectable dodge.
“‘Come, come, gentlemen? ho re
monstrates, <this will never do. I can t
ha e any trouble in my place You’ll
have to settle your difficulty sora where
else. ’
“The two sharpers then get into a
dispute with him. The uproar becomes
tremendous, and suddenly some one
cries:
“ Look our. here comes the i o'ice!’
“Then the sharpers separate. Tho
one with the money rushes to the back
of the saloon and gains the street by a
secret exit. The steerer rushes out of
the front door, but ust as the ee- ed
countryman from North Adams is about
to follow 7 , a third confederate dashes
into the saloon and runs against h in,
nearly throwing him over in the col
lision. The new stranger seems terri
bly in eased at this, and standing in
the doorway 7 so that no one can get out,
disputes with the countr man until the
escape of the hoys is completely 7 cov
ered, and then pretends to understand
what has happened.
“ ‘You’ve been shamefully swindled,
sir. There are no police coming. I
just saw the rascal who has your
money jump on that car a moment
ago?
“He points to a street car going
down town, and the countrvman flash
es as er it pell mell, only to find that he
lias gv?M> off on a wild-goose chase.
“lie’s sa'elv disposed of the moment
he starts for the car. you can bet. for it
would be like hunting for a needle in a
haystack for him to try to fiad us after
his back is once turned. 'lhe bovs
simply wait a little w’hile, and then
meet for the grand divide of lhe boodle.
The hand shaker and the steerer come
in lor twentv-live per cent, ca h of the
ga’ns, and the joint kee er, for the u o
ot his saloon and playing the highly
resnectable racket, gets ten per cent.
The remaining forty per cent, goes into
the pocket or the capper, the one who
pretended that he got o f the car, you
remember, and he gives a small share
of that to the man who blocked tho
door when the countryman tried to
catch the one he thought had his
money.”
“Does the business pay well?” asked
the reporter.
“Does it pay? Does it?” repeated
“Confidence Sam,” with an emphasis
intended to banish all doubts. “Will
water run down hill? Does fire burn?
My friend, if you think it doesn’t j st
get a joint-keeper to show you the
record of h s little ten per cent, divies,
and never ask that foolish question
again. Why, my blooming daisy, the
weather has assumed a Ro ky-Mount
ain-in-mi -w ntertem: erature when we
don’t divide five hundred dollars at
least between us for six day’s work,
with evenings o I’. We don’t work
nights in our profession, you know.
Curious Scene.
A most respectable jury—every one ol
them a £SO freeholder—was impaneled
at Clonmel, Ireland, to try a most im
portant question. During the course of
the trial the learned Judge had to retire
for half an hour, promising to lie back
on the expiration of that time. The
Judge then retired, and so did the jurors.
In some time after, one of the jurors re
turned, and stated in open court, to an
astonished audience, that he had been
to a christening, drank the child’s health,
a speedy uprise to its mother, and that
her son might be a much better man
than its papa. This caused so much
surprise that those who heard it re
mained silent. He asked a learned coun
sel to give him the song called “ The
Low-backed Car.” At this request the
learned gentleman shook his head. The
juro* - then said, “You won’t, won’t you?
Then I’ll do it myself ; ” and so he did,
in excellent style, and concluded amid
the bravos of a crowded court. He then
made a speech on the duties of a pater
nal Government, and acquitted himself
with equal credit, and was vociferously
applauded. He then demanded that the
Judge should be sent for; and, this de
mand not being acceded to by the crier,
he stood up and called the learned J udge
to come into court, on a fine of £SO.
This he did three different times, and in
the usual way. He then declared that
as the Judge did not come he wouldn’t
wa it—he should go back to the christen
ing ; and he accordingly left the jury
box, and finally tho court. In about
half an hour he returned, and, not see
ing the Judge on the bench, he com
menced singing “Rory O’More,” after
which he ster ped into the jury-box, re
suming his seat among his fellows,
who appeared quite “ glum” at his an
t cs; but he, seeming not to mind the wry
faces of his brethren, began to hum a song.
He then tried what he could do at the
Kent bugle, and succeeded to admira
tion ; but, just as he bad concluded a
splendid solo, the learned Judge made
his appearance at the corner of the I
Ijench, where he stood listening, in mute
astonishment, to tho music of the
special juror, who was equally astound- '
ed when ho heard the cry of ’ Ha , to 1
Be pha.-ed to keep silence! In/ho 1
meantime something was said to die |
Judge, «ho good-naturedly
the court for the further h.jping of the j c
case until the following worUing.
Reminiscences of Henry Clay.
Eli Grant is an aged negro living in
liouisville, Ky. When Eli was about
13 years old he went on a trip to New
Orleans with his master, Edward Carter,
a wealthy planter. There he hsd occa
sion to act for a few days as the valet of
Henry Clay, who w’as then visiting in
! tho Crescent City. He was a bright,
sprightly boy, and tho statesman be
! came so much attached to him that ho
! bought him from his master, paying the
. rather-st iff price of 81,200. Inn short
, time ho went to his new master’s home,
' at Ashland, and lived as the favored ser
vant of tho man “ who would rather be
right than be President ” for a number
of years.
“1 kin remember old Mr. Clay jest
! like it wur yisterday,” said Eh. “I
allers loved him, and Inliers love to talk
. about him.” Then the old man went on
j to talk about some of Mr. Clay’s char
( acteristics in domestic life. He said that
he was exceedingly fond of his wife, and
in addressing her always called her “my
i dear. ” He was kind and indulgent to
: his children, and generous in his treat
k went toward Ins servants. His favorite
: child was Anna, the wife of Mr. James
[ Irvine, w'hose death was announced to
t him while he was at a fashionable din
i ner party in Washington. The news
caused a tearful shock, and Eli thinks
• that it was the prime cause of his mas-
• ter’s death, which occurred a short time
i afterward.
His hobby at home was his stock.
He was passionately fond of line horses
and cattle, and would always see per
sonally that they had the best attention.
Eli tells of a fine Nefoundlaud dog that
was presented to his master by an ad
miring friend who lived in Nova Scotia.
The dog was very intelligent, and the
’ “Sage of Ashland” trained him with
his own hand to perform a number of
wonderful tricks, one of which Eli re
members to be as follows : In one of
the pastures in which Mr. Clay allowed
his finest stock to run was a fine well,
1 with a large bough attached, by means
of which the catlie were supplied with
’ water. The water was drawn from the
w 7 *-!! by the bucket and spindle system,
but it required a great deal of manual
labor to keep it in operation. To avoid
this, Mr. Clay constructed a small trend
mill, attached it to the spindle of th“
well with an iron crank, ami then tr<Aned
the dog to walk the treadmill. In this
miuiner the trough was kept constantly
filled with water, and the clever dog be
came so accustomed to the performance
that, without the necessity of being bid
den, he made it his duty to watch the
well constantly, and see that the trough
always had in it a sufficient supply of
water to keep the coppers of the blooded
stock cool. Mr. Clay loved the dop7
ami was very fond of watching him go
through with the treadmill p rtoimauce.
In speaking of Mr. Clay’s fondness
for horses, .Eh tells of a fine race mare
the statesman owned called the Golden
Cup. Upon a certain occasion the mare
was matched to run a four-mile race
against a famous horse owned by Col.
Sidney Burbridge. The race camo off
at Lexington, and everybody in that
part of the country was present. Col.
Abe Buford, old man Shy, and other
distinguished turfmen were bucking the
mare, while Col. Burbridge, Gen. War
field, and other well-known horseman
were playing the herso. “ The race
wur run,said Eli, “ from eend to eend,
and when dey come out a pullin’and a
snortin’ at do end of do four miles de
Golden Cup was just do length of her
mane in de lead. Do old inarse he jest
fell on de mar’s neck an’he laughed like
he had gone clean mud. He kissed de
Golden Cup an’ sent her home, an’ after
dat nebber allowed her to do another
lick of work. An’ 1 tellyou,” said old Eli,
growing confidential, “Martie Clay just
won 830,000 on dat nice, ’case I se< d do
money all in big bank bills, amide very
next week he wont to work hisself and
guv me a pair of brown-lined store shoes
dat cost him free dollars in Lexington. ”
—Louisville Courier-Journal.
Sedentary Ilitblls.
Tho alarming increase of late years in
the proportion of sudden deaths is be
ginning to attract the attention of statist
icians. It is largely due, no doubt, to
more general mental activity without a
proportionate increase in bodily exorcise.
The busy life of the age dem, .mis a con
stant hurry and excitement, and taxes
tho physical |x>wers to tho utmost to
keep up in the race fur money-getting.
One of the disadvantages of introducing
facilities of transpirtation is the tempta
tion to cut short time and distance by
the habitual use of steam cars and horse i
cars even in the daily transit from tho
dwelling to the office. A sedentary oc-
cupatiou begets an almost unconquera
ble aversion to regular exercise, and the
result of yielding to the indisposition is
that the mental jxiwers, kept at a steady
tension for years, will some day suddenly
relax and leave their abuser either life
less or a helpless paralytic. To literary
ami professional men is vigorous ami
regular exercise especially needful, and
the example of its effects in a hale old
age will suggest themselves to everyone.
The exercise needed to keep the mind in
tone and the physical force unabated, up
to the three score years and ten, is not n
daily spin behind a fast stepping horse,
but the long swinging gmt winch puts
the walker over a country road at the ,
rate of three or live miles an hour, and
M nds the blood puslmg with in vigors -
ing life to every portion <>f /
Two hours exorcise a day, so far ir > /
Condon T<.La> a>n.
TERMS: SI.OO'AYEAR.
USEFUL HINTS.
In removing grease spots from carpets,
| make a lather of hard soap; use only
| cold, soft water and rub the soap from
the carpet with a clean dampened cloth.
If yon have a screw rusted into wood,
or a bolt that will not readily turn, jx 7 ur
on it a little kerosene, and let it remain,
! In a little while it will penetrate the
; interstices so the screw can be easily
started.
Never set the lamp upon a red table
cover ; if you can not find time to make
a green lamp mat, put a piece of green
, card-board under the lauq> am] you will
: find the reflection upon your work much
i more agreeable to the eyes than that
from the red cover.
The little Iwixes of thin wood which
are used to cany butter or lard in, when
covered with cambric or silk, make pretty
work-boxes. Small peach baskets, paint
’ ed and lined with a bright color, uro
j ornamental and convenient, besides
I affording tho satisfaction which comes
from making something from nothing.
To make lavender water: Best English
oil of lavender, four drachms; oil of
cloves, haß a driwhm; musk, five grains;
i best spirits of wine, _six ounces. Mix
the oil of lavender with a little ot the
spirit first, then add the other ingredi
ents, and let it stand, being kept wed
■ corked for at tho least two months before
1 it is used, slinking it frequently.
A iiADY writes to a contemporary as
follows: A wing for brushing the smoko
1 from lamp emmneysand the cinders from
the burners is very convenient; tin y re
move all the grease, and there will be no
drops standing upon the chimneys, like
water on a duck’s back, and so will need
no wiping, which is a saving of time; a
1 chimney, as you all know, needs so much
wiping lifter one commences, I wash
mine with soap, to remove all grease, in
, the dish water; before I put in my
: ; dishes ; rinse in the rinsing water and all
' I is done. Soap never has made my chim
| neys brittle, perhaps it is because it ii
1 i removed quickly; I never have foyud
that soap made glass brittle.
Ammonia is very us*frd. It cleans
gentlemen’s coat-roilars and felt hats
nicely. Diluf” with water one-half, uso
a cloth color, mb well, using sev
clean cloths if very much soiled. A
few drops in abath water, especially it
hard water, is refreshing and purifying.
It cleans glassware, silverware, windows,
paints ujiid bottles beautifully and easily.
It takes up the grease spots from tl.o
floors. It is good for a stimnlast to
house-plants; one teaspoonful to one
gallon of water once a week. But a few
drops in n basin of water, wash your
hair-brushes in it, and see what it is good
for. It is good for catarrhal cold, and
stings of insei’ts. Inhale for colda, and
apply to affected part in stings.
Vienna Music.
Too much cannot be said of the de
lightful music of Vienna. Its opera is
one of the very best in the world—tho
pt oplo will have nothing but the best,
and the Government, which makes up
the leases, don’t care for expense- and in
addition there are scores of magnificent
music halls for the winter, and gardens
for the summer, but the popular music
is found in the restaurants, where it costs
the people nothing. In every part of
this city a million of people are gorge
ously furnished places for eating and
drinking, with music thrown in. Some
of them are on the ground floor, and
some of them in the basement, and some
two stories under ground, but all of the
better cla s are splendidly fitted up and
have a cuisine that is unexceptional to
the most refined taste. At one—this
is only a sample —the admission is free,
though you do pay ten kreutzers
for a programme and to have your
overcoat and cane or umbrella cared for
there is every night an orchestra of 70
pieces and every man of them a solo
performer. The enormous expense at
tending this wonderful orchestra the
proprietor has to make out of the eating
and drinking, and it is evidently proh tv
hie for there are 500 m the city just like
it The music is of the highest grade,
, comprising the best of Strauss compo
sitions, of which the Viennese are, ve V
properly, enthusiastically fond, wit
IStions tom tho -ort" »'
M< verbeer Handel, Haydn, Weber,
Mendelssohn, and latterlv, the mystic
and rarely understood W aguer. In
people drop in and go out, the i ta des in
the vast hall being kept constantly full.
You may order anything you
so eat or drink and it is served ust the
same as at other in
I cisely the same prices.— D. R. Locke, tn
Toledo Blade.
-
IVliat Woes •*
Many of your young country girls ar®
anxious to break away from the> monot
ony of home life and try their fortunes
in the city. They desire to be a clerk
or book-keeper in some large store.
They fancy a book-keeper as a .TOW
person in tasteful dress, wearing lawn
cuffs, and having early hours,
work, on a salary of perhaps to
81,500 a year. The average pay of good
women book keepers in New York is
a week, and not over SI2 for the best,
unless by favor, which implies no im
provement to a girl's reputation. A
j book-kee(M?r can board for i 4 “ r
her washing costs 50
50 to 75 cents more,
dimly-hghU«l HU tbe
'halt the cheek fo-m. her
i* «■’»
hv the
vuj»e.