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The DeKalb News
DECATUR, GEORGIA.
THE SAWDUST OPEIla
The Circus mut n fciv Notes About It that
• Will interest the Roy-.
A veteran circus mau says: New York
State was the “original” State for the
“circus,” a Stae that has produced,
with Connecticut and Wisconsin, the
greatest number of circus men.
The first clown of any nee unit appeared
in Now York at the Old Bowery Amphi¬
theatre. He was called John Gossin,
and was of the order known as the knock
about clown.
Seth Howes introduced the American
style of circus printing into England aud
made a big stir in London by it.
Some of the circus clowns were really
educated men who took an odd liking to
circus life. Nat Austin could speak three
languages and one good clown, William
Stout, had been educated for the minis¬
try. But as a rule the circus clowns had
more talent than education, and moro
shiftlessness than even talent.
Among the former clowns of the olden
time were Nat Austin, Bill Worrell,
father of the Worrell sisters; Joe Pent
land, Gardner, Sam Latlirop, Billy Fay, F.
Arthur Nelson, Dr. James Thayer,
Wallet and Dan Rice. Of these perhaps
Wallett was really the best, and Dan
Rice made his reputation chiefly by imi¬
tating Wallett,
Old
Seth was very fond of his boyhood’s
home, and the first thing he did with his
money was to rebuild the old place,
using as much of the original timber and
iron as be could. Old Seth had two twiu
nephews who were wonderfully alike,
both in the show business, and often
mistaken the one for the other.
Bailey, the partner of Barnum, hadn’t
the slightest idea of entering the show
business’till he fell in love with the pret¬
tiest- girl iu Connecticut, a Miss Turner,
whose father was a circus man. Bailey
marrying the lady, became a partner of
the father in business as well as of tho
lady .in life, nnd thus got from being a
country clerk in Danbury to being the
biggest showman but one in the United
States.
The first circus in this country started
from Putnam county, N. Y., and had
neither tents nor seats nor show printing
nor advance agent. The first circus tent
was put up in New York city, at the
corner of the Bowery nnd Grand street,
which was then considered far out of
town. This tent was hailed with an im¬
mense amount of enthusiasm, though not
over one-fifth the size of the circus tents
in vogue-to-day.
When a lion tamer does his great act
which looks so perfectly horrible to the
audience, of putting his head in the lion’s
mouth, he takes, unsuspected by the
audience, a lion's precaution which renders it
against the natural instinct as well
as his comfort to hurt him. He holds
the lionts tongue so that if he tried to
hurt him he would certainly hurt him¬
self. He pulls the flesh from the lion’s
jaws right over the lion’s teeth, and if
the beast were to try to bite him he would
have to bite his own flesh. The lion
seeiug this and valuing his own comfort,
naturally prefers leaving the man unhurt
to hurting himself.
The Doctor’s Revenge.
A Talc of Kent l.lfc Down in Texas.
At Texarkana, says a newspaper cor¬
respondent, writing from Texas, we met
a gentleman who would make a good
study for a novel. It was a doctor, who
used to live at Lincoln, Ill., and whose
brother is now the postmaster at Mount
Pulaski, He is one of the most original
and entertaining characters I ever met,
and is engaged in acting the leading
part in a comedy from one day to an¬
other. He is a large landowner, and a
man public-spirited, of considerable wealth, energetic
and but has a way of do¬
ing the natives. things that does the doctor not always is generally please
But
sharp enough to take care long of himself in
peace or in war. Not ago he was
in a row with the town, and got the
worst of it. He took his revenge in a
manner that was both original and effec¬
tive. He got a large quantity lie of white
sign-boards, on which had painted in
large black letters references to Scrip¬
ture passages. During the night he
took a step-ladder and nailed them up
in On conspicuous places door, all over the town.
the court-house on the fences,
on the telegraph poles, and on the dead
walls, when morning came, the aston¬
ished citizens beheld such legends as
“SeedRomana xii., 10,” “See Acts v.,
20,” “See Job xv., 14,” “See IL Corin¬
thians ix,, 7,” “See Romans xii.,
17-18.”
Never was there such a demand for
bibles in Texarkana before, and never
since. Men were going around the
streets with the Holy Word in their
hands, hunting up the passages referred
to, aud when they read on the sign¬
board: “And now, O, Lord, look upon
their threatenings, and grant unto Thy
servant to speak with ail boldness, "they
knew it was tho doctor’s way of rebuk¬
ing them. And when they saw staring
them in the face the words: “Bat
though I be rude in sptcc i, yet am I
not in knowledge, and ye do well to
bear with me,” they regarded the forcible. sug¬
gestion os very appropriate and
For weeks these sign-boards were the
talk of the town.
Returned.— The London newspapers
are pitching into Miss Fortescue as an
actress, returned now the that the poor, jilted girl has
to stage. The Times says
that her acting is colorless and empty.
The Standard says that stiffness and
constraint spoiled her performance. Still
she might have made a very respectable
wife for a noodle such as Garmoyle.
A Georgia man climbed three flights
of stairs to whip an editor, and came
down on half the lightning-rod his body. with his
clothes tom from He al¬
ways subscribes for the paper in advance
now.
How to catoh a husband—Grab him
ty the hair.
LIFE'S WINTERS.
We did not fear them once; the dull gray morn¬
ings,
No cheerless burden on our spirits laid ;
The long night watches did not bring us warn¬
ings
’ That wo were tenants of a house decayed.
The early snows like dreams to us descended.
The frost did fairy work on pane and
bough;
Beauty, and power, and wonder, have not
ended—
How is it that we fear the winters now ?
Their home fires fall as bright on hearth and
chamber,
Their Northern starlight shines as coldly
clear;
The woods still keep their holly for December,
The world a welcome yet for the new year.
And far away in old remembered places
The snow-drop rises and the robin sings ;
The sun and moon look out with loving faces;
Why have our days forgot these g*odly
things ?
Why is it now the north wind finds us shaken
By tempest fiercer than its hitler blast,
Which fair beliefs and friendships, too, have
taken
Away like summer foliage as they passed ;
And made life leafless in its pleasant valleys,
Waning the light of promise from our day
Till the mists meet even in the inward palace,
A dimness not like theirs to pass away V
It was not thus when dreams of love and
laurels
Gave sunshine to the winters of our youth,
Before its hope- - , had fallen in fortune's quar¬
rels,
Or time had bowed them with his heavy
truth ;
Ere yet the twilights found ns strange and
lonely,
With shadows coming when the lire burns
low,
To tell the distant graves and losses only;
The past that cannot change and will not go.
Alas ! dear friends, the winter is within us,
Hard is the ice that grows about the heart,
With petty cares and vain regrets that win us
From lite's true heritage and better part.
Seasons and skies rejoice, yea, worship rather ;
But nations toil and tremble even as we,
Hoping for harvests they will never gather ;
Fearing the winters which they may not see
Fuaxcis Brown.
Bainbridge & Son.
There was a suppressed murmur of
conversation in the drapery dressmaking depart¬
ment Messrs. of the Bainbridge large establishment
of & Son which the
stir of a hundred sewing machines could
not feminine wholly drown. found, Where the presence
can be be sure the
tongue feminine will be heard.
The superintendent of the room, un¬
derstanding this, did not attempt to en¬
force silence, so pretty Dollio Wynn and
May Bruton talked very confidentially
in their corner of the great room; and
no one interfered, so long as fingers
were busy as well as tongues.
And this is wliat May said, Dollie’s
blue eyes being riveted upon the quilt¬
ing on which she was at work:
“I saw her yesterday when I was going
out to dinner. She was just stepping
into her carriage, and Mr. Edgar him¬
self handing her in. She looks old—
nearly forty, I should say; but they say
she is immensely rich, and her dress
was splendid. So 1 suppose her money
goes against her age.”
“Did yon hear they were to be mar¬
ried soon ?”
“Bless me! didn't I tell you that?
the My wedding-cards brother is in the stationer’s where
They he are being printed.
are to married on the 27th.
Mr. and Mrs. Edgar Bainbridge, and the
card of the bride’s mother, Mrs. William
Wilson. Twelve! Come; we will go
for a walk.”
“No, I am tired,” Dollie pleaded.
And her friend left her, never heeding
the Biidden pallor of the sweet young
face, the dumb agony in the great blue
eyes.
When she was alone Dollie stole away
to the little room where the cloaks,
shawls and hats of the girls were kept,
and there, crouching in a corner, hidden
entirely by all a huge waterproof, she tried
to think it out.
What had it meant? What did Edgar
Bainbridge mean in the long year he had
tried by every masculine device to win
her love.
She had not been unmaidenly ; heart
and conscience fully acquitted her.
fehe had , , given . , her love, pure, true and
faithful, to the son delicately of her employer; but
he had sought it, and persist¬
ently, before he knew that it was given
him.
The young girl, now sewing for a liv¬
ing, had been daintily bred and thor¬
oughly educated, her father having been
his a man drawing a salary sufficient to give
when only child his every wife in advantage. But
he died, a few months
following him, Dollie had chosen a life of
honorable labor in preference to one
of idle dependence upon wealthy rela¬
tives.
And yet in the social gatherings of
these relatives and the friends of sum¬
mer days, Dollie was still a welcome
guest.
It was at her Uncle Lawrence’s sub¬
urban villa she had been introduced
to Edgar Bainbridge. After this she
met dress, him frequently, and in her simple
with her sweet, pure face, had
wou marked attention from him.
With the frankness that was one of
her greatest charms the young girl had
let her admirer know that though Bhe
was Lawrence Wynn’s dressmaking niece she worked
for a living in the depart¬
ment of Bainbridge & Son.
Then he had made her heart bound
with he had sudden, her grateful leave joy by “shop” telling night her
seen the
after night, but would not join her for
fear of giving annoyance by exposing
her to the remarks of her companions.
After this, however, she often found
him waiting for her at some joint
further from the establishment, and
she always so glad respectful of his and protection courteous in that her
was
long walk.
But he was going to marry an heiress
on the 27th, only a week away, so he
had but trifled with her after all.
Poor Little Dollie, orouching among
the shawls and cloaks, felt as if all sun¬
shine was gone from her life forever, as
if her cup of humiliation and agony was
full to overflowing.
But the dinner-hour was over, the girls
coming in or sauntering from resting
places in the work-room, and the hum of
work commenced again, as it must,
whatever aching hearts or weary hands
orave rest.
Dollie worked with the rest, her feel¬
ings so numbed by the sudden blow
Unit she scarcely heard May’s lamenta¬
tion over the sudden flood of over-work
that would keep many of them iu the
room till midnight.
“We’ll have all day to-morroiv if we
can finish these dresses to-night," said
one of the small squad of girls told off
for the extra work, “Miss Brown says
so. But these must be ready to deliver
in the morning.”
Talk, talk, talk ! Whir, whir, whir !
Dollie folded and basted, worked with
rapid, mechanical precision, hearing the
noise of voices and machines, feeling
the dull, heavy beating of her own heart
and the throbs of pain in her weary head,
but speaking no word of repining, ex¬
headache. cusing her pallid face by the plea of
It was after 11 o’clock when the last
stitch was set iu the hurried work and
the girls ran down the long flights of
rain, stairs to plod homo through a drizzling
following the late snow-storm.
As Dollie passed down the staircase
she saw in the counting-house her re¬
cent lover, busy over some account
books.
' But for the heavy news she had heard
that morning she would have felt sure
that this sudden spasm of industry was
to furnish an excuse for escorting her
home at the unusually late hour.
But, if so, Dollie felt it was but an
added insult to his dishonorable con¬
duct, and she hurried on, hoping he
had not heard her step.
She had gone some few streets from
the shop, when, passing a church, she
slipped upon a treacherous piece of ice
and twisted her ankle.
The sudden pain made her faint for a
moment and she sat. down upon the
stonework supporting the her, railings to re¬
cover herself. Beside not a stone’s
throw away, a dark, narrow alleyway
ran along the high brick wall of the
churchyard, with chill and the girl’s heart Bank
a of terror as she heard a
man’s voice in the alley say:
“Didn’t you hear a step, Bill?”
“A woman. She's turned off some¬
where. He aint come yet,” was the
answer.
“He’s late to-night," said the first
voice, in a gruff undertone.
“You are surehe’s taking the diamonds
home?”
“Sure as death. I was at-’s when
he gave the order. ‘Send them to my
shop at 9 o’clock,’ says he, ’and I will
take them homo with me.’ And
he gave tho address of Bainbridge &
Sou.”
“But are you sure he will pass here ?”
“Of course he will. He lives in tho
next street. He’ll come.”
“Suppose he shows fight?”
“You hold him, and I’ll soon stop his
fight.”
Every word fell on Dollie’s _ ears clear.
and distinct in the silence of the night.
They would rob him, these dreadful
men. if nobody warned him. They
would spriDg out upon him as he passed,
and strike him down before he knew
there was danger.
He must not come alone, unprepared.
False lover, false friend as she felt he
was, she could not go on her way and
leave him to death.
When she stood up the pain of her
ankle was almost unendurable; but she
clung to the railing and so limped along
one street. The others seemed inter
minable.
Often she crawled through the slush
of the streets; often on one foot hopped
painfully along, last, aud till the light shop in was the
reached at the
counting-house still burned.
The side door for the working-girls
was still unfastened, and Dollie entered
there, reachiug the counting-house soak¬
ing wet, white and trembling, to con¬
front both Edgar Bainbridge and his
father.
Unheeding their exclamations of dis¬
may and surprise, she told her story
with white lips but a steady voice.
“Waiting for me?” cried Edgar Bain
bridge. “The scoundrels 1”
“You bought diamonds at-’s to¬
day?” asked his father.
“A parure for Miss Wilson, sir. 1
w i 8 h to present them, with your per
mission, on Thursday. Ah, look at that
poor For, girl 1” fatigue and
overcome by pain,
meDtal torture, poor Dollie had stag¬
gered toward the door and fainted upon
the floor.
A hasty call summoned the porter
and in a few minutes the porter’s wift
appeared, rubbing her eyes, but full oi
womanly resources for the comfort o'
the girl.
A cab was procured, and clothed it
dry garments, furnished by the good
hearted woman, and, escorted by tin
porter, Dollie was driven home.
be The impossible, next morning walking proved tc
and Dollie was obliged t<
call upon her landlady for assistance t<
caring dress, wondering at herself a little foi
to get up.
But before noon, sitting in the parlor,
her lame ankle upon a cushion, she was
snprised by two gentlemen callers—nc
other than Bainbridge and son in person
—and a lady who introduced herself at
Miss Wilson.
“We have all come to thank you,” the
lady said, “and I have come to carry you
home with me. These gentlemen owe
you their lives; I owe you my dia
monds.”
“But what did you do?” asked Dollie.
“We captured the robbers by a mas¬
terly stratagem,” said the old gentleman.
with “Edgar sauntered past the alley-way
a revolver all ready in his hand,
while I, with three policeman, went
round and entered the alley softly behind
the villains. Taken by surprise, theii
retreat cut off, they were easily made
prisoners. You understand, we could
not arrest them unless they actually at¬
tacked Edgar. As it is, however, there
was a very pretty little tussle before we
came up. Bless me, dear child—don’t
faint—he’s all right 1”
sprained “My foot I” Dollie murmured, “I
my ankle last night. It was to
stop to rest it that I sat down on the
church wall.”
“Yon didn’t come all the way back
with a sprained ankle ?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You are a heroine !” cried Miss Wil
son. “Bnt, my dear,” aud ' ere the
heiress drew nearer to Dollie and took
her hand in a close clasp, “we have been
hearing this morning a pretty little love
story, of which you also are the heroine,
and 1 have come to see if you will be my
guest Edgar until Thursday, and then make
poor there the happiest of men by
assisting at a double wedding.”
Dollie’s eyes, slowly dilating as the
other lady spoke, this were climax open to their
f ulli st extent as was reached.
“Edgar !” she said. “I thought he
was to many you on Thursday ?”
A musical laugh answered her.
Calling the gentlemen at the same
time from tho window, where they had
sauntered during this little scene, Miss
Wilson looked up at them.
“Convince this young lady, Edgar,”
she said, “that your affection for me is
only that of a dutiful son, and that I
shall have a motherly affection for her
likewise, when I become the wife of your
father, And then Edgar Edgar Cambridge, senior.” chair
took the his
step mother-elect vacated, while the
elder lady aud gentleman went outside
to arrange a cushion in the carriage for
the sprained ankle.
What Edgar said "may be imagined;
but certain it is that Dollie drove home
with Miss Wilson, and was that lady’s
guest until the following Thursday, when
her wedding-cards, too, were distributed,
and the bridal party consisted of two
bridegrooms and two fair, blushing
brides.
SALARIES OF PUBLIC MEN.
Uncle Sam iuid His Army of Assistants—
What They Have to Live On.
The Admiral of the United States
Navy has a salary of $13,000 a year,
whether at sea or on shore. Other offi¬
cers have less when on shore. Vice
admirals at sea get $9,000 a year, rear
admirals $6,000. commodores $5,000,
commanders $3,500, lieutenants, senior
grille $2,100, ensigns $1,200 to $1,400,
and cadets $950.
The pay of officers in the army in¬
creases in proportion to the time they
have been in the service. Geueral Sheri¬
dan for the first five years of service will
get $13,500 a year; a lieutenant-general
gets $11,000 a year, a major-general
$7,500, a brigadier-general $5,000, a
colonel $3,500, a major $2,500, a
mounted lieutenant captain $2,000, and a second
$1,500.
Senators and Representatives get $8 a
day, and the Speaker of the Houso and
President pro tem. of the Senate $16 per
day. In the first Congress the pay was
$6 a day for members of both Houses,
and in two years of John Adam’s term
as President Senators received $7 and
Representatives SC per diem. In 1815 it
was members changed to $1,500 per annnm for
of both Houses, and in 1817 to
$8 per day.
The Clerk of the House and the Sec
retary of the Senate each get$5,000 a
year, as do the stenographers in Con
gress, the two Comptrollers of the
..Tjswaurv, Customsand a number Commanders of Surveyors of
the of the navy.
Pension agents get $1,000 a year, the
Civil Service Commissioners $3,500, the
two Assistant Attorney-Generals $5,000,
eight Justices of the Supreme Court
$10,000, nine Judges of Circuit Courts
$6,000 and fifty-three Judges of United
States District Courts from $3,500 to
$1,500.
Besides the mission to St. Petersburg
the only other American Ministers who
get $17,500 a year are Our those at Paris 1 ,
London and Berlin. embassadors
and to Spain, Japan Austria, Mexico, Italy, Brazil
get $12,000 a year. Those to
Chili, Peru, Uruguay, Gantemala, Costa
Rica, Honduras, Nicaragua and Salvador
get $10,000, and those to Portugal,
Belgium, Sweden and Norway, Den
mark, eral Turkey, Havti, Greece and sev¬
South American countries get
$7,500. The Consuls General to Lon¬
don, Paris, Havana and Rio Janeiro get
$6,000 a year, and there are 175 Consuls
who receive from $1,000 to $5,000 a
year.
j
Kamel Smith’s Hospitality.
There was a party of four or five of
us from Cheneyville, La., to look over a
by sugar the plantation, and we had dismounted
roadside to drink at a spring and
rest a bit under the shade, when along
came a native on a mule. As he drew
up and looked us over we saw that he
was armed with shot-gun, revolver and
knife, had and the eyes under his old hat
a bad expression.
“I reckon you gents haint bound over
to Kumel Smith’s place ?” he said as he
surveyed “Reckon ns.
we just are that,” answered
our “How spokesman.
soon?”
“Right away.”
“Say, Gineral, will ve do me a favor?'
“I reckon.”
“Sot here fur about halt an hour, and
, then don’t hurry. The Kumel and I
have had a little furse, and I’m going to
.git the drop on him. Reckon you don’t
care to mix in?”
“Reckon not, and if these gents is
agreed we’ll give you time.”
We didn’t raise any particular objec¬
tion, and the wayfarer passed on at a
gallop. By and by we followed at a
slow pace, but made no discovery until
we reached Smith’s place. The “Kur
nel” was at the gate with a rifle leauing
against the fence, and as he came out
and shook hands our guide asked:
“Been any furse around here, Kumel?”
“Nothin’ to speak of, thank ye.”
“Didn’t see a fellow on a mewl come
this way ?”
“Well, that somebody did come along an’
fill ’ere gate post full o’ buck-shot,
an’ I sent a bullet through his ole hat to
teach him not to be so keerless; but git
off yer hosses an’ come in—come right
in an’ make yerselves to hum.”—Detroit
Free Press.
The Chinese of ^New York city have
proved that they have some bowels of
compassion for their suffering country¬
men. In answer to an appeal from the
old country, calling for aid for the victims
of great floods near Canton, $45,000 was
raised there in a few days. Several
Chinese merchants subscribed $2,000
each.
TI1E FIRST ICE-PALACE.
Built by the Finprem Anna Ivnnovnn* or
the Neva, 1730*
In the construction of this work the
simplest means were used. First, the
purest and most transparent ice was se¬
lected. This was out into large blocks,
squared with rule and compass, and
carved with all the regular architectural
embellishments. No cement was used.
Each block when ready was raised to its
destined place by crimes and pulleys,
and just before it was let down upon the
block which was to support it, walyr
was poured between the two; the upper
block was froze immediately almost lowered, aud as
the water instantly, in that
intensely cold climate, the two blocks
became building literally one. In fact, the whole
appeared to be, and really -,vas,
a single mass of ice. The effect it pro¬
duced must have been infinitely more
beautiful than if it had been of the most
costly marble—its transparency and
bluish tint giving it rather the appear¬
ance oE a precious stone.
In dimensions, the structure was fifty
six feet long, eighteen feet wide, twenty
one feet high, and with walls three feet
in thickness. At each corner of the pal¬
ace the was a pyramid of the same height
as roof, of course built of ice, and
around the whole was a low palisade of
the same material. The actual length
of the front view, including the pyra-*
mids, was one hundred and fourteen
feet.
The palace was built in the usual style
of Russian architecture. The facade
was plain, being merely divided into
compartments window by pilasters. There was
a in each division, which was
painted in imitation of green marble.
The window-panes were formed of slabs
of ice, as transparent and smooth as
sheets of plate-glass. At night, when
the palace was lighted, the windows
were curtained by canvassed screens, on
which grotesque figures were painted.
Owing to the transparency of the whole
material, the general effect of the illumi¬
nation must have been fine, the whole
palace delicate seemingly light. being filled with
a pearly The central divis¬
ion projected, and appeared to be a door,
but was, in fact, a large window, and
was illuminated like the others. Sur¬
mounting the facade of the building
was an ornamental balustrade, and at
each end of the sloping roof was a huge
ch'imney. The entrance tjie was at the rear.
At each side of door stood ice imi¬
tations of orange-trees, in leaf and flow¬
er, with ice-birds perched on the
branches.— SI. Nicholas for April,
AN ACTOR BAGGED.
An Amusing Story of it Burn Storming Com¬
pany Out West.
“Speaking of traps reminds me of a
kittle incident that happened a few years
i-go in a little. Michigan town. Miss
Blanche de Bar and a moderately tart
company were hunting fickle fortune in
towns more or less not on the map.
They struck one place that had an en¬
tirely new hall, and opened it with a per¬
formance of The Hidden Hand. When
their carpenter came to cut the trap in
the stage for ‘Black Dan’—or whatever
his name is—to fall into when Capitola
presses her foot on the spring in the
floor, he was astonished to see that he
had cut right through into the store be¬
low, which belonged to the owner of the
hall! The owner, a Jolly, good-natured,
ready sort of a chap, came up, and find¬
ing that the trap was necessary for the
play, said : ‘All right, you go ahead and
cut it. I’ll fix it up some wav so that it
will be all right for to-night.’ He and
the carpenter did fix it up, in some way
best known to themselves, while the rest
of the company went away until time
for the performance. In the evening
the carpenter told them : ‘Look out for
those boards over the trap under the
carpet, and don’t kick them away, or you
will leave the trap open. When the
time comes I’ll take ’em away, and all
“Black Dan” will have to do will be to
step forward on the space, and the car¬
pet will give way with him.’ As he said,
so it was done. When Capitola put her
foot on the imaginary spring, and
‘Black Dan’ took a step toward her
threateningly than he flash. dropped There out of sight
quicker a was a mo¬
ment’s silence, and then up from that
trap howls, came ejaculations a volley of half-smothered
of profane amaze¬
ment, and wild yells of ‘Where am I ?’
that were not in the play. They rang
down the curtain and investigated. The
ingenious landlord and carpenter had
nailed securely in the trap by its mouth
a huge wool sack, about fourteen feet
long. he When the actor went through the
trap and dropped clear to the bottom of
it, there he was swinging like a
pendulum cated, in the darkness, half suffo¬
and frightened almost to death.”
Depending Too Much on a Dog.
Rooney owns His the ugliest yellow dog
in Austin. friends often joked him
about the brute, and suggested that he
should drown him or choke him to
death with butter. But Rooney would
wink and say, “Niver you moind; that’s
the saygaciousest pup in Texas. ”
After many a wild debate at a ward
meeting, Rooney had staggered home
followed by his faithful dog. It was his
custom send to yellow cautiously open the door and
his dog in as an advance
guard. It the pup came back hurriedly,
accompanied by a howl, and a poker or
a saucepan, Rooney retreated and slept
in the wood-shed. On account of these
services Rooney became much attached
to his dog.
The poet has said, “There’s nothing
true but Heaven. ” One night last week
Rooney came home after an animated
discussion with some of his countrymen
as to the expediency of using dynamite
“to intimidate the toyrants.” He ap¬
proached the door cautiously, listened at
the keyhole, and then whispered, as he
opened the door, “Iu wid yez.”
The dog thrust his tail between his
legs and sneaked in. A dead silence of
several minutes followed. Then Rooney
soliloquized. “It’s a’slape she is, I’m
thinkin’,” and he entered.
Next morning when he met his friend
Mulcahy, “Man alive, the latter Rooney, said :
did you fall off
the scaffold. Ye look all broke up. How
did you get that face, anyhow ?”
“I got it,” said Rooney, sadly. “I
got it, Mulcaliy. me frind, by puttin’ mo
depindence in the snggaciousness av a
dirty yaller dog.”— Texas Siftings .
NOTES BY THE WAY.
The German Admiralty now thinks
that it must alter its coast defences, inas¬
much as Krupp’s improved monster guns
are found to penetrate easily the strong¬
est armor plates.
The Citizen, of Illion, N. Y., printed
its edition by eleotrieity, using an elec¬
tric motor, deriving the current from a
ten-light dynamo fifteen rods away. It
is the first newspaper in the country thus
printed.
A Providence man slapped a stran¬
ger’s face for staring at his wife in a street
car, and he was beginning to feel himself
a hero, when the car stopped and a little
girl helped the impudent fellow off He
was stone blind.
Eight hundred vagrants, a score of
fht in men whose ages ranged from 90 to
99 years, were arrested in a single week
toward the close of last month in Paris.
slept Many of them asserted that they had not
on a bed for thirty years.
Since the commencement of work on
the canal, the population of Aspinwall,
Panama, has suildeulv increased from
1,500 or 2,000 to 8,000 or 10,000, and
building has extended into the swamps,
where there are no streets graded.
Hon. Cabroll E. Smith, of the Syra¬
dress cuse Journal, before will deliver the annual ad- '
the New York Press Asso¬
ciation at its convention in Plattsburg,
in June. George E. Stevens (Wade
Wipple), of Yonkers, will deliver the
poem.
President Taylor of the Mormon
church says: “When they come West to
wipe out polygamy they will find 100,
000 muskets pointing eastward.” In that
ease, says the Philadelphia Call, they
had better take along 100,000 muskets
pointing westward.
Three thousand food inspections in
Glasgow last year resulted in the destruc¬
tion of 16,000 pounds of fish, 3,000
pounds of pork, 600 pounds of beef, and
other considerable quantities of food.
Among the better class of houses, 263
drains have been inspected, and only
seven of them found to be in good order.
The Treasury Department is in receipt
of a telegram from J. H. Sanders, Sec¬
retary of the Treasury Cattle Commis¬
sion, stating that he has information that
the cattle disease prevailing in Kansas
was carried there in clothing by two
Scotchmen, direct from an infected herd
in Scotland.
Liverpool is the greatest shipping
port of the world, its annual tonnage
being 2,6-17,372 tons. London is tho
next port with 2,330,688 tons. Glasgow
ranks third with a tonnage of 1,432,35-1.
New York comes fourth on the list of
shipping ports of the world with a ton¬
nage of 1,153,676.
One of the latest cheats is tobacco
paper. The stuff is such an exact imita¬
tion of the natural tobacco leaf and is so
well flavored that it takes a magnifying
glass to detect the deception. Cigars
made of this tobacco paper have a good
flavor, burn well and hold their white
ash firmly.
Here is a statement, in round figures,
of the Irish population of the earth:
Irish at home, 7,500,000; Irish in Eng¬
land, 2,500,000; Irish in Scotland,
2,000,000; Irish in Canada. 2,000,000;
Irish in Australia, 1,000,000; Irish in
America, 12,500,000; Irish elsewhere,
5,000,000-a total of 32,500,000.
In Sayreville, Pa., there is a horse
which hauls thirty-five small cart loads
of clay and one of coal dust every day.
He has nodriver, is as regular as clock
work, and never fails to go exactly the
right number of times. If too big a
load is put on the cart, he rears and
plunges until a part of it has been re¬
moved.
At domino parties in Boston, the la¬
dies, but not the gentlemen, wear masks.
At one entertainment a young gentle¬
man was flirting desperately with a
domino, when to his astonishment the
voice behind the mask said. “Why,
Bobby, where did you learn such fright¬
ful things ?” The domino proved to be
his mother.
The engagement is announced of Mrs.
Frank Leslie te the Marquis deLenville,
a gentleman who has spent much of his
time for the pastthree years in New York
city. The duel between the Marquis
and Count Almansegg, in Belgium, in
which the latter was wounded, was be¬
cause of remarks that the latter had made
concerning an American lady.
Not the Right Leg.
“I leaf my poy Shake in der shtore
while I come down town,” he began as
he halted a patrolman, “and pooty
queek a man vhalks in and looks all
aronndt and says:
“ ‘Poy, I has godt some badt news for
you.’ How dot ?’ asks Shake.
»< < vos
“ ‘Veil, your fadder falls down on der
shtreet und preaks his leg, und I vhas
here to get a dollar to pay for a hack to
bring him home.’
“ ‘No!’
(« 4 Dot vhas so.’
‘•Vheel, dot makes my poy Shake feel
like a load of hay falls on him, but he
doan’ go quite grazy. He t-inks it all
oafer and asks:
“ ‘So my fadder proke his leg?’
<< t Vhieh leg vhas it ?’
“ ‘Der left leg.’
“ ‘Are you sure ?’
“ ‘Of course; I help to carry him into
der city hall.’
“Den my poy Shake he laughs all
oafer, shust so—, und chuckles down in
his poots like dis—; und den he plows
bolice vhistle mit all his might, und dot
schwindler runs avay.” eh ?”
“So Jake doubted his story, 1
“Of course.”
“Why!” look here few times.”
“Veil you a
He reached down and pulled up the
left pant leg, and the officer saw a neat
handy wooden limb.
“You don’t fool my poy Shake on
wooden legs, und don’t you forget him I”
chuckled the old man as he waved his
hand for a street-car to take him aboard.
—Detroit Free Press.
Robert Bonner's fast horses include
Marietta, 2:16}; Maud Macy, 2:t0j;
Maybivd, 2:21; Wolsey, 2:21 j; and Con¬
voy, 2:221.