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THE “FOURTH” AND “FIFTH."
.r-nim N the morning of the
j—Fourth
'ni™ ® ■ W Reign* supreme the
S. Crackers, cr a c kers,
7 • fire and smoke,
*?• Endless, noisy joy.
/K\ Jingling In his pockets
V wait
Nickles, cents and
,« dimes,
That seem clinking
K tales to him
Os tuch jolly times.
If Flags aloft, the world
■3) astir,
F j Trumpets add their
blare,
Etfj/ School Is out, the fun
is on,
! Life is something
rare -
Fast the jingling coins
4 vl escape
From his fingers black.
Oh! this joy that manhood’s prime
Never can bring back.
Fireworks with the shadows come,
Rockets all ablaze,
Candles, wheels and shooting stars,
That enchant his gaze.
Crowds of people, laughter, shouts,
Frolics everywhere,
Till he thinks the fun must stay
Ever in the air.
Tell him not the “Fifth” will find '
Him In sorry plight;
He will only laugh and plunge
Deeper In delight.
And, as fast the years slip on,
Will he, looking back,
See the “Fifth" and all the pangs
Hanging on its track J
No, the short and merry "Fourth"
» He alone will see.
While the long and painful “Fifth"
Will forgotten be.
—Clara J. Denton, In Golden Days.
THE LIBERTY BELL.
How It Proclaimed Our First Inde
pendence Day.
/' z || ■ EY, there,
■ * zjl ill Patches! where
'll did you get
’BOW! your dog?”
M’uk ’* 111 The tone was
•' insulting,
'“'Ti and the lad,
If whose cheeks
.. 1 v~I had reddened
I —a ) at the allusion
\Jf i to his worn,
’ though neat
n u ■ and well -
* vl mended attire,
glanced an-
~ ***” grily at the
~ r i c hly-dressed
young aristocrat, although he answered
civilly: “If you are speaking to
nse, I raised him from a pup;” while
bis hand dropped caressingly on the
heab of the noble mastiff which stalked
sedately by his side.
“What will you take for him?"
“He is not for sale, Master Cathcart.”
“Not if 1 offer you two guineas for
bim?"
“No, nor three. Penn is worth his
weight in gold;” and the boy tightened
his hold on his pet’s short hair as.if
afraid he might be taken away without
his consent.
But now the first speaker's manner
became more conciliating, as he urged:
“See here, Harding, don't be a fool. I
have a fancy for your beast, so take
these and call it a bargain.” And he
drew four gold pieces from his pocket
and held them out where they glittered
temptingly in the July sunshine.
“Nay, nay, as I told ye, my dog is not
for sale, so go your way and let me go
mine.”
“Miserable Yankee! That I will not!"
tried young Cathcart, who never could
brook opposition. “I want the mastiff,
and Ive half a mind to send my father's
men to confiscate him in the name of his
blessed majesty King George. Such as
— — -OS’-rytJ '
UZM
(WfcSc, ajs.,
“IS THIS A TIME FOR FIGHTING?”
you have no business with a valuable
thoroughbred, though doubtless his
meat is never paid for. ”
“Never paid for! What do you mean
by that?” asked Harding, turning pale
with rage.
“Even what I say. ‘What’s bred in
the bone will come out in the flesh,’
and verily it looks suspicious when the
bantling of a jail-bird can keep a big
dog, while his father lies in the debtors’
prison,’ sneered the English boy.
“Zounds, but such insults can only be
avenged by knocks,” cried Harding,
doubling his fists and approaching his
tormentor who, however, contented
himself with waving a short stick he
carried, and shouting: “Keep off, sirrah!
How dare you lay a finger on the son of
a British officer and the grandson of a
lord! You shall be reported and locked
ap for this.”
“<4 fig for your King’s men! lam an
American, and Americans dare to fight,
as you and your fine Tory friends will
soon learn;” and the peppery little Yan
kee struck out boldly from the shoul
der, while Penn, seeing his master’s
war-like attitude, showed his teeth in a
low, ominous growl.
Another moment and the hot-headed
youngsters clinched, and would have
been down in a rough-and-tumble fight
had not an old man, in plain Quaker
garb, suddenly appeared on the scene
and separated them.
“Peace, there!” he said, laying a hand
on the shoulder of each and gazing
sternly into their flushed, angry faces.
“Is this a time for fighting and brawl
ing in the public streets, when the
country is trembling on the verge of a
great crisis? Thee knows better, Nel
son Harding; while as for thee, Regi
nald Cathcart, thy father’s rank should
restrain thee.”
Harding’s eyes still fl ashed, but Cath
cart, with a glance at the mastiff, whose
deep growls like distant thunder made
him glad of any chance to withdraw
from the encounter in an honorable
manner, responded: “True, sir. I fear
1 did forget myself for a moment.
Nobleeu oblige, of course. So, if my an
tagonist is satisfied, I will bid you both
good-day;” and having brushed the dust
from his silk camlet suit and lace ruffles,
this small sprig of English nobility
marched off with the haughty air he
fancied so well became his station.
“What would Margaret Harding say did
she know thee had been exchanging
blows thus publicly with a royalist?”
asked the old Friend.
“My mother would regret it, no
doubt,” replied Nelson, “but Grandpa
Darrah, he insulted my father as well
as myself. He called him a —a —jail-
bird;” and a great sob rose in the boy’s
throat
“Wrong, indeed was that,” said the
aged man. “But two wrongs never
make a right, and ’tis likely the boy
knew not that Benjamin Harding was
unfortunate, not wicked. Long and
bravely he struggled to support his
family, and when reverses came it was
a cruel thing to consign him to the
debtors’ prison. It was the work of an
enemy. ”
“Aye,” cried Nelson, “and for seem
ingly so small a sum, too! It is large
enough, however, to mother and me
who are laboring to pay it off. We buy
as little as possible, but the sum in
creases but slowly in the ‘debt box,
and sometimes I fear the mother will
die ere we can set my father free. She
pines sadly for him.”
“Aye, aye,” sighed the Quaker, “truly
we have fallen upon troublesome times,
and the hand of the oppressor is heavy
in the land! Who would know our peace
ful Philadelphia with the red-coats
turning everything topsy-turvy! I pray
we may soon throw off this British rule!
By the way, the Continental Con
gress has been considering the question
for the past two days, and to-morrow
their decision is to be made known.
Wilt thee be at the State-House, Nel
son Harding, to receive the first news
from the door-keeper and give me the
signal whether to ring the great bell or
no? 1 will pay thee a shilling for the
job.”
“Gladly will I be on hand, Grandpa
Darrah. You think they will really
dare to declare our independence?”
"Many say not, but I believe they
will. There are great and wise men in
the Council, and then the motto on the
old bell I have rung so many years
seems verily prophetic—‘Proclaim lib
erty throughout all the land to all the
inhabitants thereof.’ The Lord grant it
may do it;’’ and the aged Friend's se
rene countenance glowed with enthusi
asm.
“Oh, I hope, I hope it will," responded
Nelson; “but now I must away home at
once. Good day, grandpa. Come, Penn,”
and off he scampered with the huge
mastiff at his heels. The little home of
the Hardings in Letitia Court was plain
and modest in the extreme, and, as the
pale, fragile homewife set the frugal
dinner on the table. Nelson thought she
seemed more downcast than usual.
“What is it, mother?” he asked.
‘‘Has any thing gone wrong?”
“Nothing new only the landlord has
been for the rent, and I have had to
draw on the debt-box again, and each
time it seems like a step further away
from your father. Gh, I wonder if we
shall ever, ever accomplish his free
dom!”
“Os course we shall!” cried Nelson,
more hopefully than he felt “Cheer
up, mammy! I am growing larger every
day. so can soon earn more; and only
just now Grandpa Darrah, the bell-man,
promised me a shilling if I will wait at
the State House door to-morrow and
give him the signal if independence be
declared."
“And if it is, how your poor father
will fret and fume at being shut up and
unable to fight for his country. He was
always such a true patriot!” And the
unhappy woman turned away to her
sewing with a heavy sign. A lump, too,
arose in Nelson's throat, and he ate but
a small portion of his savory stew, giv
ing the lion's share to Penn, who en
joyed it with hearty gusto.
As he finished the last morsel Mrs.
Nelson looked up. “That dog eats as
much as two men,” she said.
“But he is such a grand, noble fellow,
mother, and 1 love him so.”
“So he is, dear, but I wish his appe
tite was less:’’ while into Nelson’s mind
darted the young Britisher's words:
“Such as you have no business with a
valuable thoroughbred.’’
Was it true? Ought he to sacrifice
his dear companion and playmate for
the sake of the father languishing be-
neath the shadow of the law? He tried
to put the thought away, but the idea
haunted him and made him wretched
whenever Penn looked up in his face
with his soft, brown eyes or licked his
cheek with his warm, red tongue, as
though to ask; “What ails you, little
master?”
But when, in the dead of night. Nel
son awoke and heard his mother sob
bing in the next room and felt sure the
four guineas would appear to her like
four seven-league strides toward her
husband's freedom, he determined that,
although he could not put up with Regi
nald's overbearing manner, he would go
to Captain Cathcart, who, in the phrase
ology of that day was said to be a “ge
nial, whole-souled Old England man,”
and offer him the mastiff on his son’s
terms.
The next morning, however, he had
little time to consider his resolution,
for he bad to be off early to the State
House, and already the streets were
filled with eager, excited groups, while
a feeling of hushed expectancy seemed
brooding over the quiet city of brother
ly love.
No fairer day ever dawned than the
4th of July, 1776, while, prompt as
Nelson was, the old bellman was before
him and ready enough to welcome the
ff fr
i wr B
Jefe! Rwi
“THAT dog eats as much as two men.”
boy to his little belfry and to point out
the Congressmen as they arrived one by
one at the State House; for the old
Friend's Quaker garb covered a truly
patrotic heart, while his genial nature
made him a general favorite, and he
was dubbed “Grandpa” by half the
town.
First come Richard Henry Lee, the
Virginia member who first brought for
ward the resolution to proclaim the
American colonies free and independ
ent States. Next young Thomas Jeffer
son, carrying a roll of manuscript, the
draft, no doubt, which he had drawn up
of the famous declaration. Then Samuel
Adams, the “Father of the Revolution,”
in his customary suit of reddish brown;
John Hancock, the president of the
Congress; Charles Thomson, the secre
tary, who held the position for fifteen
years, and plain, sensible Benjamin
Franklin; while, following in rapid
succession came Roger Sherman, Will
iam Ellery, Charles Carroll and the rest
of the illustrious fifty-six.
“A vastly fine, thoughtful set of men,
are they not, Nelson Harding?” asked
the bellman.
“Yes, yes,” cried the boy, flushed by
the excitement of the moment; “and I
feel sure they will do whatever is best
for the country!” and descending he
took up his stand close to the State
House door and patiently watched and
waited, while Chestnut street became
one mass of surging humanity and the
sultry July sun beat down with unre
lenting fervor. Men wearied and wan
dered off to the State House Inn or Old
London Coffee House; children lifted up
their voices and wept, and women faint
ed from the heat and were borne off by
kindly hands; but still our loyal little
Casablanca kept his post, although the
hours dragged by on leaden wings, and
often from above came down the de
spondent tone of the old bell-man,
whose hope was beginning to waver,
groaning: “Oh, they never will do it!
They never will do it!'’
About noon, though, there was a
slight interruption, for . a determined
four-footed creature came, making its
way through the crowd, and with a cry
of pleasure Nelson recognized Penn,
bearing in his mouth a small basket, in
which Mrs. Harding had packed a light
lunch for her son. With a joyful bark,
the dog discovered his master and laid
his burden at his feet, while, as the lad
patted his faithful creature's head he
moaned: “Oh, Penn, dear Penn, how
can I ever bear to part with you! If
only there was some other way to help
my father!"
The bread and fruit, however, soon
revived the boy’s flagging spirits, and
when Penn trotted off with the empty
basket he was once more the loyal
young American, who had forgotten his
private troubles in suspense for his
country’s good; and soon after two
o'clock the great doors swung open and
the keeper whispered a few words in his
ear. Then, with a glad cry and his blue
eyes dancing, Nelson bounded out in
the street, and clapping his hands
shouted: “Ring, Grandpa! Ring!” and
instantly the old man seized the rope
attached to the ponderous tongue and
struck it with all his might against the
side of the bell, sending the iron music
floating forth on the summer air, joy
fully proclaiming, “Liberty throughout
all the land, to all the inhabitants
thereof.”
The debtors heard it in their gloomy
cells, and one, at least, longed to be
able to join in the struggle that must
folio#.
Margaret Harding heard it and
thought: “Oh, that it would ring free
dom for those in the grasp of the law!”
And Reginald Cathcart heard it and
laughed contemptuously, saying: “Let
the high and the mighty Yankees de
clare all they like! They will find it
another matter to maintain their inde
pendence, with their rag-tag army
against our King's gallant men!”
But what a burst of acclamations
went up from thousands of throats,
while couriers and post-boys were dis
patched in all directions with the glad
tidings! Bonfires blazed on every side,
cannon roared, and by evening the
whole city was one carnival of banquets,
gay iliumina tions and mutual congratu
lations.
Grandfather Darrah was so jubilant
that he doubled Nelson's well-earned
shilling, and with a fleet foot the boy
sped home to throw the silver in his
mother's lap; while the happy smile
that irradiated her face as she dropped
it into the debt-box made his heart
leap, and he thought: “If two shillings
can make her so glad what would she
say to four golden guineas!” Then,
while carried away by the spirit of the
occasion, he hurried at once into the
yard, indulged in a brief moan over his
pct, and then bravely fastened a chain
about Penn’s neck and started with him
for the British barracks, which lay a
short distance outside the town.
At the entrance, however, of the
large, three-story brick building, where
the officers had their quarters, he en
countered a young lieutenant, in a
scarlet uniform, who informed him that
Captain Cathcart was particularly en
gaged and had given strict orders not to
be disturbed.
“Then then, may I see Reginald
Cathcart?” asked Nelson, bringing out
the detested name with an effort. “Yes
terday he said he would like to buy my
mastiff; and now I am ready to sell him,
if he be of the same mind.’’
“As a sacrifice on the altar of Lib
erty?” asked the young officer scorn
fully, but coming nearer the truth than
he imagined. “Well, you can’t do i* to
night, for Master Cathcart has gon' into
the town. Call in the morning, if you
please; but I doubt if after to-day he
will want Yankee dogs of any sort."
The Englishman’s contemptuous tone
and words made Nelson's blood boil;
and quickly retorting: “Take care, the
Yankee dogs you so despise may yet nip
the heels of all redcoats!” he turned and
hurried off with a swelling heart, think
ing that after all it was too hard lines to
have to give up his darling Penn to the
enemies of his country; and yet who
else did he know- now, in those uncer
tain times, who would pay four guineas
for the animal that “ate as much as two
men!" He scarcely heeded the brilliant
fires and decorations in the street, but
hastened home, where he was met on
the threshold by his mother, her man
ner betraying new and strange excite
ment.
“What is the matter?” he asked, fear
ing some fresh misfortune; but for an
swer she only flung wide the door of the
living-room and he beheld the figure of
a man sitting in the soft light of the
home-made candle. He looked, and
rubbed his eyes and looked again.
Could it be? Yes, there was no mis
taking the blonde hair and blue orbs’so
like his own; and in another moment
his father’s hand was on his shoulder
and a familiar voice sounded in his ears,
saying: “My dear boy, this is a rarely
happy night for us, for in honor of this
glorious day our wise rulers have
opened the debtors’ prison and set all
the prisoners free.” [A historical fact.]
“Huzza! huzza!” shouted Nelson,
tossing up his hat and hugging his fa
ther, mother and Penn by turns. “I
shall love that old Liberty Bell all my
life.”
But it w r as not until the trio were
gathered about the supper table that
Nelson realized the fullness of his hap
piness; and then suddenly he threw
down the spoon with which he was eat
ing pop robins and milk and exclaimed:
“Oh, hip, hip, hurray! Now I won't
have to sell Penn!”
“Sell Penn! What do you mean?”
asked his mother; and in a few words
he told her of his recent resolution and
how it had been frustrated. As he
finished tears glistened in Mrs. Hard
ing’s eyes, while his father said: “No,
my generous boy, there is now no need
of the sacrifice, but you and your pet
shall stay and guard the mother while
Igo to join the Continental army and
fight for America and her new-born in
dependence.” Agnes Carr Sage, in
American Agriculturist.
Spontaneous Combustion of Man.
Dickens has been very much criti
cised for his apparent acceptance of the
fact of human spontaneous combustion,
but the late Sir William Gull testified
to a surprising case before the commit
tee of the House of Lords on intemper
ance during the summer of 1886. A
large, bloated man, who was suffering
from difficulty of breathing and great
distention of the venous system, died
at Guy’s Hospital. At the post-mortem
of the following day there was no sign
of decomposition, but the body was dis
tended with what was thought to be
gas. “When punctures were made into
the skin,” said Sir William, “and a
lighted match applied, the gas which
escaped burned with the blue flame of
carburetted hydrogen. As many as a
dozen of these little flames were burn
ing at one time.” —London Court Jour
nal.
The discovery of gunpowder was
made principally in behalf of the Fourth
of July.
PATIENT LOYALTIES.
Beautiful Sacrifice* Constituting a Grand
Chapter of Heroism.
He must have a very small acquaint
ance with men and women who doubts
the existence of as general and as noble
an illustration of heroism to-day as the
world has ever seen. There are few
families in any civilized community in
which there is not some man or woman
whose whole life is one of heroic, al
though obscure, sacrifice; the kind of
sacrifice which is all the more heroic
because it has no other satisfaction than
the consciousness of an obligation dis
charged and a duty performed. There
are no more beautiful exhibitions of the
finer qualities of human character than
are to be found in these patient loyal
ties; these devotions of the household,
unsustained by any public recognition,
uninspired by the hope of any conspic
uous achievement, but none the less
faithfully persevered in to the end.
Stanley's journey through Equatorial
Africa oppresses one’s imagination with
a sense of its indescribable toil and
hardship, but the great explorer bad
the consciousness of doing a piece of
work which was not only heroic, but
which had world-wide relations and
would receive world-wide recognition.
There are countless lives which in un
broken continuity of toil parallel
Stanley’s journey, and yet are un
attended by any of the inspiring
circumstances which sustained the ex
plorer. For a host of people life means
little more than unbroken toil
and uninterrupted self-sacrifice, and
in many of these cases the beauty
of the life lies in the fact that
the man or woman w'ho is showing this
noble strength is unconscious of any
special achievement. It is easy enough
to face great dangers when they last
but a little while, and when their suc
cessful endurance means recognition
and honor; but the patient loyalties of
private life, the self-effacement of women
for the sake of those in their own house
hold, who often have neither compre
hension of the sacrifice made for them
nor gratitude for it, involves another
and a higher kind of courage. In every
situation in life there are men and
women who are quietly putting their
own interest out of sight in order that
some other, less vigorous ‘or less fortu
nate, may be sustained and cared for.
These beautiful sacrifices, concealed
as they are from the world, constitute a
chapter of heroism the like of which has
never been written by the splendid dar
ing of war and exploration.—Christian
Union.
OUR GOLDEN GIRLS.
Over Forty-Four Million American Dollars
Captured By Poor Noblemen.
The immense sum of #44,175,000 has
gone to Europe during the last few
years with several American girls as an
incumbrance to trade for titles. In the
main this dowry of beauty and fortune
purchase poor specimens of men. If
they were in Chicago they couldn’t earn
a living shoveling smoke outof the city.
Yet they have what all the world of
snobs love —a title. Most of them have
vices, and debts, and other things
equally as undesirable. But a title
covers a multitude of sins.
The American girl is a beauty. She
is a conversationalist. She has plenty
of dash and spirit, and gives those blase
noblemen more pleasure in an hour
than they ever had in their lives be
fore. And she is rich —that is, all who
marry noblemen are. So he marries
her, goes to Heaven, and gets the earth.
Here is a list of them:
Lady Vernon Harcourt $ 200,000
Countess Von Linden 1,000.000
Marquise de Mores 5,000,000
Lady Hesketh 2,0)0,000
Mrs. Henry Howard 500,000
Duchess of Marlborough 7,000,000
Lady Wolsey 2,000,000
B ironess Seydlitz 1,500,000
Mrs Arthur Paget 401,000
Mrs. Maule Ramsey 1,000 000
Princess de bcey Monthelliard 2,000,0 0
Mrs. Smith Barry 301,0.0
Mrs. Hughes Hallett 20',000
Duchess de la Rivera 3,000,'00
Lady Vernon 1,000,0 X)
Duchess de Glucksberg 2,000 000
Princess Colonna 5,000,000
Duchess de Dino ~,,,, 3,000,000
Mrs Ernest Beckett Denni-on 500,000
Cuiintess de Chabot 201,00*1
Countess de Agreda. 1,000 000
Mrs. William Carrington 200,000
CountesS favorgnan too,ooo
Princess do Brancaccio 250,000
Countess dl Culrey 150,000
Mrs. Cavendish Bontinck 1,500,000
Lady Arthur Butler 1,000,000
Mrs. Thomas Charles Baring 500,000
'1 he Baroness de Bremont 75,000
Mrs. Beresford Hope 150,000
Countess Amadel 100.000
Countess d’Aramon ... 150,000
Lady Aylmar 2oo’ooo
Mrs. John Adair 300,000
Matchioneaa of Anglesey 200,000
Marchioness Salvaterra 100,000
Total ...$44,175,000
The immensity of this sum that has
gone, or is going, from our shores is so
huge that it staggers people who have
ever considered the subject, and, large
though it is, this vast sum does not rep
resent the half of the dowries of fair
American women who have married for
eigners.--Chicago Tribune.
—The rate at which this earth is being
mappod off and sold in chunks of super
ficial Area is something startling. After
awhile there will be nothing left but to
dig holes in the ground and sell the
sides. And there is enough enterprise
lying around loose to hit on some way
of making the perpendicular surfaces de
sirable investments. —Washington Post
—lt is an awful drawback to a man in
the development of his best ability to
have been born the child of a million
aire, but most of us would be perfectly
willing to have been drawn back just
about so far. —Somerville Journal