1881-04-23; Clare County Press |
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^A''^-MkMi^sKmmSmimi^mL*W^^^ "vi\'i> f i1* "AA--. r'*■:'■-";I:Z I-1 *-Kzi< .4','■ • '" •"• V*; '•U«<',*Air.,:''. »,'■.."**/*• '-uA,'"V vT^Ci^l^H
• f;
•$1.50 per Year. Always in Advance
D. E. ALWAItD, Publisher.
VOLUME III.
CLARE, MICHIGAN, 6£EpRDAY, APRIL 23, 1881.
NUMBER 13.
If© AST Ct>M9 COAS,
Poor cpat, well loyetl for nuuiv reasons,
Brace tooth of us grow old, he true;
This ttiaid has brushed you for ten seasons,
E'en Socrates no mora could da.
wWlfit 'Xiiuu yoiu- tltlu and Avhlto-aeained stutl
Keajis onjutackiiig without end,
wlssly, lite me, hia lilowa rebuff:
And never let ua part, old friond.
That tiirthday flown, whou first I trore you,
I mind well—memory yet is strong—
My friends around to honor horo you,
And pouted tlieir welcome forth in song.
Your shabby p'JtfUl—nf which I'm Tain-
Hinders ttii'ui uot-un una to lend,
They'd freely feast us now ajyiin;
So never let ua part, old friend.
You're patched behind, an ancient vending;
That, ton, recalls a past tlWigbt;
One nijjlit to run fmm Jiine protonding,
I felt lier "oft hand elutrli uie tijjlit.
Torn ireie yon, and that frightful tear
lt tool: my Jam- two days lo mend,
Whil? I was held hercap'tive there;
So never let us part, old friend.
Have you been stooped in musk and amber,
Whieh fops sniff, looking In the glaas?
Or pushed al-.-ng an aute-cbambtr,
For swells (ofinror at as »o pass?
ThrmiRhtuirT.il Franc hy fiction rent,
It'.tihons nml starr. f-.'.I strife can seu-1—
A ii"li|-fluwi r is your ornament;
So never let us par:, old friend.
r.
Fear no more days el IdU miRing,
When our twu'fctei lir-ruini* ;.s ono,
Of pieasute with pjin iui.-rt-haiiging,
.If intermingle:! rain and fui\
Ff.r tiii> last time 1 soon s'mll dofl
Hy clothes, just wait! and wa will wend
Together, gently going ofl';
no never let us pert, old friend.
—From Stranger.
1
rf
i
THE YANKEE SCHOOLMASTER.
On "Miller's Hill" n farm-house; a
lowland structure built of wood; whose
clap-boards, weather-worn and gray, were
falling iuto slow decay; whoso mossy
wooden lane-troughs swung from rusty
irons rudely hung; whose curling shingles here and there betrayed the need of
good repair; whoso ancient chimney,
capped with stone, with lichens partly
overgrown above tho sagging roof, looked
down upon tho spires of Brandon town.
An old gray barn was built near by,
with heavy girths and scaffolds high,
and solid sills and massive beams, and
through the cracks and open seams the
slanting sunshine used to play in golden
gleams upon the hay, where oft, with
many a shout, tho children jumped aud
played nbout at hide and seek, or looked
with care for hidden nests in corners
there. Where oft at morn they used to
hear the cackling hen and chanticleer,
where, by the broad floor 'neath the
mows, were cribs and stanchions for tho
cows, aud strong plank stalls whero
burses sto'\l to eat their hay from racks
ol wood, and, iu a corntff.stowed away, a
fsauiing-inill and old red" sleigh. Where
>,, jolly fawii-buye husked at night the gold-
lanterns by tlie bay on pitchforks thrus.t
iuto the buy, where, sheltered from tho
autumn rain, with thundering flails thoy
throbbed the grain.
Each year the hum of honey-bees was
* henrd timid tha apple tree, the lila-s
bl-.a-mini, il.eloi-Ui-i: iuirwifh tlieir sweet i
ri't .;rav.»-o tilled the air: the rfubbie fields
were plowed and sown; the wurm rniu
fell: the bright sun shone; tho robins
sang; the freen grass grew, the roses
blossomed iu tlKi dew; the tall rt d holly-
hi.-.-i: ouco more bloomed brightly by
the iarm-iiouse doov: the sun-iluwer bent
its iw.i.iy bead; the cattle in the pasture
fed, the crickets chirped in meadows*
nt ur, sounds were wotted to the ear o'er
waving Ileitis of tai-seled corn, of chitt« r-
iiig.>eythe auii dinner born. Thu reapers
reaped their golden sheaves; the .swallows
It'll the stuccoed eaves: the apples in the
autumn breeze grew ripe nnd mellow
on the trees; thc leaves were swept about
the air: the fields were brown, the woodlands bure; the i-now-flaices fell; the tur
trrev- eliiU; tiie sluigh-belkraugon "Miller's Hill."
The winter sky was overeat, tho r.iow I
and fleet were fulling fast. Twas
Ciu'ifttnias eve; the air was cool; the
children hurried home from school, with
laughter loud find outcri.w shrill thuy
reached the farm-house on tho hill, they
oaintj acn ss tiie kitchen floor, nor stopped
to shut the entiy door, all striving first
the news to tell, exclaimed, in concert,
with a yell: " Tho teacher's coram' here
to stay; he's up the road a little way; he
stopped to talk with Susan Stow, an' we
ran home to let you know."
The mother stopped her spinning-
wheel, aud put away her creaking reel,
swept up the dusty hearth with care,
rolled down her sleeves and brushed her
hair, smoothed out her rumpled gingham
gown, aud.inherroeking-chair sat down;
then, striving hard to look her best, she
calmly waited for her guest.
Her ruddy, round, and fleshy face waa
bordered by a cap of lace: her nose was
nearly liid from view Dy tier plump
cheeks of healthy hue; her eyes wei-e
bright, her hair was thin, she had a
heavy double chin; her husband's arms,
when both embraced, coidd barely circumscribe her waist.
Of all large women nine in ten will
most admire the little men. and little
men—why none may tell—will love large
women quite as well. They woo, they
wed, the man through lifo is quite o'er-
shadowed by the wife.
Soon, parting from his rustic flame,
the tardy young schoolmaster came. His
eyes were blue, his features fair, his chin
o'ergrown with dowuy hnir; behind his
ears his locks of brown were smoothly
brushed and plastered dowu; his bony
limbs were large and long; his well-
trained muscles firm flaid strong; the tall,
stout boys that yeiirs before liad thrown
their master through the dour his rod
regarded with dismay, and seldom dared
to disobey. The pride and hope of Hub-
bardton was tall Lycurgus Littlejohn,
who had, his follow-townsmen said: "A
heap o' lurnin' in his head." (Three
terms in Midblebury College had given
him his "heap" of knowledge.)
He often used to sit "between tho fair
young girls of sweet sixteen and kindly
help them "do their sums." Thoy
brought him fruit and sugar plums; they
had their girlhood hopes and fears; his
words were music in thou: oars; eaoh
smile he gave them had a olwrm; each
frown would fill them with alarm.
What envious looks at Susan Stow, ban
favorite scholar they would throw.
Her eyes and hair were dark as night,
her skin was soft, and smooth, _ and
whito; a peach-like bloom her cheeks
overspread; her lips liko ohorries, ripe
and red. What wonder he could not
conceal the glad, sweet thrill he use to
feel through all his palpitating frame
when to his desk she coyly came and,
looking up with eyes of lovo, like some
sly, timid little dove, would softly ask
him to expound some knotty problem
she had found? What being in the world
below seemed half as sweet as Susan
Stow? Her eyes would flash and, in return, his face would flush and strangely
burn, and, when he tried to calculate
so me long, hard "sum"- upon her slate,
th e figures danced before his Bight like
little gobbling, gay and white, and, when
at night, with cheerful face, he started
for Ids boarding place, what wondor that
he came so slow in walking homo with
Susan Stow?
The woman crossed tho kitchen floor
to meet Lycurgus at the door, and, with
a scrutinizing star,o sho said: "Walk in
an' take a chair, an' be to home while
you are here. Come, Busby, take his
tiring.-', my dear."
Forth from hfe corner, by the firo, tho
husband came at her desire. His head
was bald, sav; here and there, stray littl'- tufts of frizzled hair; his shoulders
Stoop
Lis"form wns thin, his knees
1 bent, his toes turned in; he wore a
gray
long bin.} flannel frock, gray trousers,
aint;, satin stoek; ti cotton collar, tall
R,\ 1 <-fi ti', wit--, rudely rniupled around
i.-.-.-:\ «-ur; hi°- fcieo was mild, his Hmilo was
blar.i. ns forth he put his ponderous
hand, and said: "I think I see you well,
I hope you'll stay a leetle. spell; we're
]-lain folks here I'd have you kuow, and
don't go infer pride nor show," Then,
after hteppiug on the cat, he took the
teacher's coat and hat; he hung thein on
a rusty nail, and, picking up his milking
p:dl, lie slowly shuffled out of doors aud
wont to do the evening ehotrs.
Clo'-e by the firelight's cheerful glare
Lycurgus drew the wisy-chair. Tha
savory" steam of chickens slain camo
from the black pot on the crane. The
kittle's merry song he heard; upon the
hearth the gi'.iy cat purred; while, by
the chimney-corner snug, the houso dog
dozed upon the rug. Among the chimney-piece of woed nn idle row of flat-
irons stood, two caudU-aticks in bright
iiroiy, r. pair of snufterh aud a tray. The
.tn
But "Aunt Bebecca " watched in vflin
the curling smoke above tho crane ;, she
nodded, dozed,' began to snore,-sbe
dropped her knitting on the floor, awoke,
her eyelids heavier grew, wose and silently withdrew,
Along tlio creaking stairs she crept, to
the lone chamber where she slepviilia
close tlie window-curtains drew^to scroeri
herself from outward view. She stopped
the key-hole of tho door, sho set the
candle on the floor, looked 'neath the
valance—half afraid to find a man _ in
ambuscade; thon sitting dowu, aside,
with caro she laid her garments on ft
chair, slipped on her ghostly robe of
white, took off her shoes, blew out the
light, then, in tho darkness, from her
head removed hov wig and went to bed,
curled up, with chilly sobs and sighs, and
quivering shut hor drowsy eyes.
Poor singlo souls who sleep alone, ibo
night wind hath a dismal tone • to
vour lose ears—you start with fear at
every midnight sound you hear,.when
late at night with weary heads you creep
into your weiu-v bods. Tho nights seom
long, your lips"turn blue, your feet grow
cold—you know thoy do 1
She'sl6pt at last; she heard onco more
the ripple break upon the shore; again
she sat upon the strand, and some on«
clasped her fair young hand, and wowb
were whispered iu her ear tlin t long. ago
she loved to hear, aud, starting np, sho
cried iu glee : " I knew you would come
back to me." She woke. Alas!'- no
love was there. Her thin arms .elrtspoc
the vacant air. 'Ttvas but a dionm.- Sh«
lived aloie. Witlif nt >\ie heard tlie mgh;
windmorB. H'&ili? "^ v-'" »;™do\v-panes
tlio saow was wildly beating, rrom bolow the smothered sound of voices came
when still with Busby's social dame.
Their guest sat by tho fading fire aud
watched its fleeting flame c\pire whilft
sho listened, lint no word they uttered
conld be clearly heard ; but soon a "recollection* came that sent a shudder through
her frame—the sausage to be .fried iit
morn, tho breaksast table to adorn, was
iu the bedroom where then- guest would
soon betake himself to rest. The clock
struck ten, sho softly said, "III get it
ere he goes to bed." •/ '•■ . *
Tho spare bed stood within a room,aa?
cliill and humid as a tomb ; 'twas xfew
aired, 'twas seldom swept; in its damj>-
corners spiders crept; they built tlieir'
bridges through tlie air, -and no rudt^.
broom
that fell
the chinks that time had made, and^otfj
the whitewashed walls ran down in v>$&,-
V$taS'p,' a ^^hing form, with Mght-
raajie-ad, seemed slowly coming towards
tm; hod He heard tlie rusty hinges
orAAK, ,be oould not stir, be could
no^ speak, he could not turn his head
a"li!ty' slmf liis oyes and tried to
Mi upon his brow of palid hue the
5*PJweat st°od hke drops of dew; at
W* bo rfirieked, aloud and shrill—tho
ddt^ Bwung back and all was still.
"".\.rhat midnight cry, from room to
toete, resounded- loudly through the
pV»ni. - The farmer and his wife at rest,
■ffjUjun their warm and cozy nest, awoke
sfcfrnbiing up the stairs they came. In
OP.UOU bedquilts quaintly dressed, they
]iK%d, a deep groan from tlieir guest, and,
{till of wonder and affright, pushed iu
tljtJ tloor and struck a light.
■HEPS? down within the feather bed
T^urgus had withdrawn his head, and,
Otiti of sight, lay quaking there, with
thiobbing breast and bristling hair.
ll\:-iy questioned him, but he was still;
hip'shook as if he had a chill, the cour-
agt ^yns completely gor.o from tall Ly-
flR'K'is Littlejohn.
,' -^Voat human language can express,
ttlij- modest maiden's dire distress, while
fltjsuding still behind tho screen, a sad
Hjjffcotaior of tho scene ? What pen or
p^cil can portray her mute despair and
dbep dismay ? A while she stood, and
l&;m*Kh the door she peeped across the
bSd-room floor; tho way was clear,
. Unlike a vise she grasped the sausage,
'^Ald as ice, sprang from the closet, and
'/iywi sight sho glided liko a gleam of
"K?«i.t'.awny without, a look or word, she
.lf?sr like an affrighted bird; without a
;Soaeut of delay, tho mystery cleared
Htiritatpay!
*' Again the snow gleams on tho ground,
•again the sleigh-bells gayly sound, again
"pu^"Miller's Hill" wo hear the shouts of
children loud and clear; but in tho bam
Vi heard no more the flapping flail upon
tlio floor. Tho house is down, its in-
.nr.ites gone, and tall Lycurgus Little-
"fjuiis now an old man, worn with care.
'Mitli stooping form and silver hair. He
ni u-ried dark-eyed Susan Stow, and they
s^re-happy, years ago.
?i£\T!ienKiu the merry •
•HrUdreii'H children round him cbmb, he
^T!ienKiu the merry winter-time, then'
drous frescoes tinged with, brown j HJhjjV JT'^J?'1!?
window-panes, with fros^ ."o'ersj^w.d/i'mjjy'cL,
were warmer than that iey'ft**L. (^fe\jB£ ^9r
jajiVtlioin of his fearful fright, on that
%t distant wink'T night; and, after tV?
Silas! ho is but dreaming still of
6naro«.bo(l on "Miller's Hill."—
ZZltill. in Cidooftr, Tribune.
1-^5--^e^kf-'m>r.M.
wk the hours forever pouts. "Forever
goi:e," it seem;, to say—"Forever gone,"
fror.t day to dav, in its tall case oi j
sombro hue—'twas fifty years since it.
was new. Between the windows, small!
and hi?-h, the looking-glass was hung, ;
near by; a brazen bird with wings out- i
spread', perched on the scroll-work overhead: beneath, a shelf, theconimouhome
ot family Bible, brush, and comb; above, j
from iron hooks were hung long frames, j
with apples thickly strung, aud, fixed
upon the wall to dry, were wreaths of
pumpkin kept for pio. j
Forth from the butlry, to the fire,
came Aunt licbt■ccaMelutyro, a swallow
spinster, sometthat old, whose mellow
age was seldom told; her hair was gray, j
her nose was thin, it nearly touched her' i
toothless chin. Life's weary work and }
constant care had worn a face that once i
was fair. I
Each Sabbath morn, from spring to I
spring, within the choir she used to smg, |
in ancient bonnet, cloak, and gown, the i
oldest relics hi the town; beside the
chorister she stood, and always did the
best she could, aud, whilo with timing- |
fork, he led, she marked his movements
with her head, her nasal voice rose sharp
aiid queer above the deep-toned viol
near.
She took tke black pot from tho crane,
removed the kettle from the chain, and
made the tea and chicken-broth, drew
out the table, spread the cloth; then,
from the table, briVht and new, brought
the best china edged with blue.
The chores were done, the feast was
spread; all took their seats and grace
was said. They ate tho savory chicken
stew, so juicy aud so well cooked
through; before them, rich round dumplings swam, on steamiug plates,
with cold boiled ham, with feathery
biscuit, warm aud light, with currant
jam and honey, white aud crowning all
a good supply of yellow, meatlj' pumpkin-pie. Wliere sueh a bounteous feast
is found, who would not teach and
"board around?"
The supper done, the father took from
off its shelf, the sacred Book, and read of
rv:« who stilled t\je sea one stormy night
ia Galilee; then, kneeling down bofore
liis ehair, he asked the heavenly Shepherd's care.
Soouj. from the group, with drowsy
heads, tho children started for their
beds; took off the little shoes they wore,
and left them on the kitchen floor; then,
bidding all a fond "good night,", with
pattering feet, they passed from sight.
Dear little feet, how soon they stray
from the old farm-house far away; how
soon they leave the family fold to walk
the shining streets of gold, wliere every
hope is real and sure; where every heart
is kind and pure; where every dream is
bright aud fair,—0! may we meet our
loved ones tliere 1
The farmer left his cozy seat, with
clattering slippers on his feet, went to
the cellar where he drew a mug of cider,
sweet, aud new, and from his broad bins
brought the best and ripest apples for
his guest. Then, by the warm fire's ruddy light, they lingered Until late at
night, strange legends told, and tales
that made them all feel nervous and
afraid.-
■was the matfmg on .UrajELogto'""
the straight-backed chairs of wood; cold Jr'."^
- - ■ ■ - -,k1 I licit £
<ft/Tt9ptance of Exploration.
zs home
witb bim. He has beeu
was the oaken stand that ptood on spinu-1 ... .
ling legs that looked as chill aslouc, b;,ie i traU'mig m regions which no European
pines on some bleak hill; high lvse that j ??lit l>ai *P& l*'0"4 ^m- wlllle the
bed o'er things below, Hke some tail ice- j
berg capped with snow. Here cvury i
highly honored guest, when bedtime |
came, retired to "rest." j
Within its large aud moldy press hung j
Mrs. Busby's best silk dress; ber Sunday
bonnet, shoes, and shawl, on rusty nails
against the wall, by IMr. Busby's suit cf
blue, that at his wedding had beeu new.
Here on a peg his best cravat reposed
within his old fur hat; here, shut "from
sight of human eyes, were rows of mince
and apple pies, with rolls of sausage and
head-chfese, stored on tho shelves and
left to freeze.
From out her cot the maiden crept,
slipped on her shoes and softly stepped
along the hall and through the gloom until she reached the chilly room, Un.'ieen
she crossed the icy floor, unheard unlocked the closet door, (matched irom
the shelf, in a firm hold, a bag of sausage, stiff and cold, tben turnixg quickly,
sought to beat a sudden, safe, and sure
reheat. Too late! A light gleamed on I
the wall, and sound of footsteps filled |
the hull, then to the room came boldly
on the stalwart form of Littleiohu! She
baekwaid stepped and st<»d aghast,
theu closed the door and held it fast.
With chattering teeth and trembling
framo across the floor Lycurgus came.
He placed the candle in "his hand upou
the spindling oaken stand. Then closed
the dooi-j and, with a frowr, within a
cold chair settled down. H? threw his
boots upon the floor, and, rising, tried
tlie closet door; but Aunt Jtebeccit, in
affright, clung to the latch ,vith all her
might. To look witliin LyCirgus failed,
he tiu-ned away aud thout-it it nailed!
Then, pulling down the snowy spread,
he put his warm brick iu tlie bed, took
off his clothes, and slipped between the
sheets of ice, so white ani} clean, blew
out the light, and, with a sneeze, close
to his chin he brought his knees, beneath the clothes he drew his nose, aud
t^iediuvaiu to find repose; while "Aunt
Rebecca," from the wall, took down the
Sunday gown and shawl, she wrapped
them round her freezing form, and
blushed, to keep her visage warm.
The paper curtains, loosely hung upon
the windows, rustling swung, while
through each quivering.,narrow frame
of frosty panes a dim "light came that
mado the furniture appear like dusky
phantoms crouching ndar, Lycurgus
listened in the storm and hugged his
brick to keep him warm, but colder
grew the humid bed, tlie clothes congealed around his head; to feel afc ease in
vain he tried; he tossed and turned-from
side to sido; each time he moved, beneath his weight the bedstead creaked
like some form-gate. Sis brick grew
cold, he co.uld not sleep, a strange sensation seemed to creep npon him, whilo
across the floor he closely watched the
closet-door.
Was he but dreaming? No! his eyes
beheld, with wonder aod surprise, what
man had never seen before—there was a
movement at the door. It (Jowly turned
and to his sight came, through the dim,
uncertain light a hideous hand, that in
its clasp some awful object seemed
threatened storm between Russia and
Okina was growling on tlio frontier, he
was pushing his way among the unknown
territories of High Asia persistently and
undismayed. Ho has wandered through
forests that are bright witb the plumage
of bluo pheasants. Ho has explored the
Tibetan Ligldands-, wliere the peaks are
said to rite 10,000 feet above Mont
Blane, and the very rivers flow at levels
higher than the summits of all but the
lottiest of the Alps. Chinese potentates
have come within an ace of beheading
him. Tartar horsemen and Mongolian
brigands have fled before the unerring
aim of his rifle. Xatives have spread
tlie legend that his eyes coidd pierce
fathoms deep into the earth and charm
out the precious stones whicb lay beneath ; aud the be^t opinion that these
tribesmen ever held of liim was that he
was a "well-disposed wizard who flew
about at night. And, after all this adventure, his hope of reaching the mysterious "star-spread sea" still stands
ior tbe present battled. From the snows
of the Tibetan mountains flow two
of tho greatest rivers of tho earth,
the Yangtzo and the Yellow river, the
main arteries of tho Chinese plains'
Even to the people who dwell upon
them their sources are but vaguely
known. They airrive upon the horizon
of exact knowledge as mighty^mailing
waters break from the mountains. To
humbler origins Prejevalsky has been
unable to trace them. When he struck
tlie Yellow river above Gomi he found
it already a broad stream, clearing its
way swiftly to tho east tlirough a deep
raVine cut sharply out of the rocky table
laud. At frequent intervals as the explorer pushed, along its banks with liis
string of mules &ud camels he was
checked by cross ravines, in the bottom
of wliich tributaries rushed to the river.
'' We woidd be marching over the unbroken plain," he says, "when all of a
sudden a fearful chasm woidd threaten
us with yawning jthroat and the passage
would cost untold fatigue to men and
beasts." He found, iu short, that tho
project of following up the Yellow river
was impossible. Nevertheless he still
believes that the source may be reached
some other time by starting further
west, and there is Uttle reason to be-
Ueve that Russia, whicli for two centuries past has beeu distinguished for tho
energy which she has devoted to the
work of geographical exploration, will not
long allow his services to remaia anoia-
ployed.—Neiv York Herald.
Were it not for the occasional hot
winds, and the character of the change
that follows it, the climate of Melbourne
would be absolutely delightful, for in
winter the thermometer seldom registers
less than 32 deg. Fahrenheit, and the
summer heat (save on hot-wind days)
ranges no higher thau 80 deg. in the
shade.
" Did you read my last poem ?" "Yes;
it was simply perfect." "Oh, come now'
reali.y, you know, nothing is perfect in
Shis world." "Oh, yes—nonsense is!"
AUSTttAOA.
tl»0
Some InteroKtlng- Facts Atxmt
iKlmtd-Contiitont.
[Lotter from Melbourne.]
Victoria, of which Melbourne is the
oapital, is about the same size as England, or a' State of moderate area in
the Union. Forty-four years ago the
colony or province was uninhabited by
any fobs except the aborigines. It now
contains nearly 1,000,000 peoplo, and
the population of Melbourne numbers
250,000i This quickly-rison city has
some resemblance to an American town
and many features that are novel, Visitors are less struck with its architecture
than with the width of the streets. In
the city proper all the main thoroughfares are 99 feet wide, and they cross at
right angles. On each Bide runs an
open drain, and underground sewerage
has not yet been adopted. Melbourne
is visited seven or eight times in the
summer by a scorching wind from the
north, which dries up the surface moisture and carries off tho germs of diseases that live on damp. Tho hot wind
is peculiar to« Southern and Central
Australia. The interior of the island-
continent is a vast expanse of plains, intersected by few ranges of mountains
and traversed by few rivers. Those
plains support cattle and sheep in
great abundance, but are subject
to periodical drought. A cby season
kills off the herbage and evaporates the
hikes and chains of pools wliich iu summer represent the livor of the winter
time. , The winds that travel over the
inland plains collect heat from the sins
face, and thoir temperature rises high
above the dew-point. On their visit to
the southern regions theso warm, dry
winds suck up the moisture and wither
tlio herbage. To tlie nativo vegetation
the hot wind does Uttle injury.^ Tho
leaves of the eucalyptus and acacia (the
two predominant genera) are thick and
stored with oil, and the roots aro spread
like net-work tlirough the undersoil.
The agriculturist does not mind the hot
wind, for it comes at harvest time, when
the crops arc ripe; and the flocks of the
grazier do not suffer unless the dry season lasts long, for sheep thrive on shrubs
and herbs when the grass fails." It is
remarkable how long the flocks can resist a drought on the inland plains.
Even when tlie surface looks quite bare
they aro able to find food, aud can get-
on well so long as the holes retain water.
About once iu six or eight years a
drought occurs over the vast ulterior,
and sheep perish in thousands. It ig
the uncertainty, of Itho seasons that renders tne ventures of tbe grazier precarious, and accounts..'-for the remarkable
is the wool industry, and it annually
brings in millions of pounds sterling to
the community.
Tlie traveler who haa Keen Paris, tbo
suburbs of London and tbe chief American cities misses the street car*. There
me no street rtiilroadii in Melbourne, and
ail pas^ongei- traffic in -arried on iu oiu-
ll,buses avA wu>onettes.
Victoria is well provided with railway
commimication. Over 1,000 miles of
line are open, and Parliament has just
authorized the construction of an additional 400 miles, at a cost of §70,000,000.
Locomotives built in Philadelphia now
run on the main lines, and tht American
type of engine, is preferred to the EngHsh
for passenger traffic.
Each of the five colonies or provinces
into which the continent of Australia is
divided is as independent of its neighbors as if they were all so many European republics and kingdoms. Each
makes its own laws and has its own tariff. Owing to the comparative thinners
of the population—ior what are 12.000,0-.'U
people on a continent 3,000 miles long
and 2,000 miles wide?—and to the ui>-
tanecs between the capital citi-s, no
scheme of federation is yet praefie ible.
It has often beea talked about—the colonies have even conferred together < >n
the subject—but there is no immediate
"prospect of the establishment' of au
Australian dominion or union. Geographical difficulties and want of concord on the subject of tariffs keep the
colonies asunder.
Thc most creditable thing in Victoria
is the education system, which is free,
secular and compulsory. It is conducted
entirely by thc Government, and has
been iu operation for eight year?. The
cost of the systemis §2,500,000 per annum—a good' deal for a population of
less than 1,000,000 to pay for the education of 200,000 individual children,
between the ages of 6 aud 15.
Australians are great holiday-takers,
and each year the prosperous bu^hmen
allow themselves a fortnight or three-
weeks' enjoyment in Melbourne. November is the middle spring season of
the year, when flowers are gay, the turf
soft and green, and the days bright bnt
cool. At midsummer the grass becomes
brown. Australian laborers only work
eight hours a day, and there are thirteen
recognized publie holidays in the course
of the year. It is tho custom besido to
take a week or fortnight at Christmas
and another week at Easter.
English lnlantry.
The standard of height for the infantry of tbe line is now five feet six inches,
and for chest measurement it is thirty-
four inches; no recruit is accepted who
does not fulfill these requirements, which
are in excess of those in all, and are much
higher than those iu most Continental
armies. Some, indeed, aire in favor of
lowering these standards, because iu
consequence of them we are forced td
reject so many recruits whose chest-
measurement is only thirty-three inches
but whom, in every other respect, it
woidd be desirable to enlist, Without
in any way going back to the very low
standards to whicli we have often had to
resort in the days of long servico, we
could at any moment increaso the number of our recruits very considerably by
reducing our standard to that of Germany or of France. In 1873 there were
in every 1,000 men in the army 412
under five feet seven inches, antl 58S
over that same height; in 1880 tho numbers were 398 and 602 respectively.
Surely these facte show a decided improvement in the physical strength of
our soldiers, and afford a positive denial
to all tho wild statements whioh aro so
commonly bandied about as to the inferiority of the recruits who now enlist under the short-service systom, compared^
with those we used to obtain formerly.—
iS'ir Gat net Wolsely, in Nineteenth Century,
Friends and Opponents.
Tho Declaration of Independence was
adopted against the opposition of soma
who had favored the cause of the colonies.
They regarded it as premature and-
therefore inexpedient. Among these was
,Tohn Dickinson, tho author of tho
"Farmer's Letters," which contributed
much toward the American Revolution.
Mr. Josiah Qhincy tells us, in his reminiscences of John Adams, that ho once
asked the venerable ex-President an explanation of Dickinson's course.
"lie became discouraged," replied Mr.
Adams, "and for some time was one of
tho most violent opposers of tho Declaration of Independence. Ho had a wife
and mother who were both Quakers,
and they tormented him exceedingly,
telling him that he was ruining himself
aud his country by the course ho was-
pursuing.
"If J.liad had such a mother and sucli
a wife, 'believe I should have shot myself. If 'they had opposed me, it would
have made me so very unhappy. I could
not have L'ved had I not pursued tho
course I did. <,
"Oiio day m Congress, Mifflin, a relative of Dickinson, had a dispute with
him.
"Dickinson had said, in tho courso of
a speech, that, in driving a team of
horses, it was necessary to rein in the
most forward and to ercoutage tho slow
and lagging.
"Mifflin got up and saii\ 'Not so, Mr.
President. You had better knock tho-
dull and lazy horses on the head and put
them out of the team. It will go on
much better without them.'
"The circumstances of his fajjifly and
'his own timidity made Dickiusoi. tako
the course he did. He w?s a man of immense properly and founded a college'in
Pen'nsvlvania." f \
• 'M
opposed the Declaration, the clerical
members all supported it. The leadei
of the clergymen was John Witherspoon,.
President of Priuceton College.
He was a Scotchman, and in his youth
had led a corps of Highlanders to the
Battle of Falkirk 'and fought'for the
Pretender. Entering with all his soul
mto fhe causo of the colonies, he became
a leader in those measures which brought
about r. final separation between them
and Great Britain.
When the Declaration was laid before
Congress a deep stillness pervaded ther
hail. Every heart was awed. Witherspoon, of indomitable will and peerless
courage, spoke first.
"IJ.r. President," he began, in clear,
bold tores, "that noble instrument on
your 'tabid, which insures immortality to
its au'inir, ahould be subscribed this,
very morning by overy pen in the house.
"Althotudi these gray hairs. must
.descend into the sepulchre, I would infinitely rather they should descoiid
thither by the hand of the executioner
than dts'.rt at this crisis the sacred causa
of my country."
"Tha country is hardly ripe for-such a.
boll movement," suggested a timid
member.
"In my judgment," shouted Witherspoon, "we are not only ripe, but rotten."
The names of fivo clergymen are found
among the Declaration. They represented tho feelings of. their brethren.
A Slander on David Davis.
David Davis is a man whom no one,
to look at his frank, open countenance,
would suspact of having quibbles about
httle nothings, and yet he is probably
the worst of them all in this respect.
He wonld scream outright if he was to-
see the new moon over his right shoulder instead of his left, or should wring
out his dish-cloth before he had wiped
the pie tins, for all the world like a-
romantic and dizzy school girl. But try
as hard as he can, he can not get these
notions out of his head. By watching-
himself closely, he is able to keep from-
exhibiting any signs of tlie singular
weakness, though on several occasions,
he has astonished the Senate by appearing with spit curls on his forehead, and.
eating slate pencils. On having liis attention called to it he would blush, simper a few thanks, and reach for som&
candy in his reticule. He buys his
stockings in Chicago and St. Louis,
using the St. Louis foot and the Chicago
calf and throwing the rest away.—Peck's-
Sun,
A Young Lady's "Testimonial."
A gushing young lady who pnrchasecf
a bottle of Dr. Quacke's Health Bitters
—none genuine unless the Doctor's name
is blown on the Wrapper—sent him the-
following testimonial:
"Deaii Dooron: I. think your bittera-
are too awfully lovely! -After taking\
half a bottle I could sleep until 9. o'clock
in the morning, while ma_ was getting-
breakfast ready. My health is now too-
sweet for anytliing, and your delightful
meelieinc is just too supremely nice,"
etc,—Norriatown Herald.
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Object Description
| Title | 1881-04-23; Clare County Press |
| Date | 1881-04-23 |
| Publisher | Goodenough & Wilson |
| Description | Saturday, April 23, 1881 issue of a Clare, Michigan newspaper. Published weekly. Began publication date unknown. In 1886, the title was changed to The Clare Press |
| Subject/Keywords | Clare (Mich.) - Newspapers; Clare County (Mich.) - Newspapers; |
| Copyright Permission | This material is in the public domain. |
| Type | Newspaper |
| Format | JPG/JPEG |
| Language | English |
Description
| Title | 1881-04-23; Clare County Press |
| Date | 1881-04-23 |
| Publisher | Goodenough & Wilson |
| Description | Saturday, April 23, 1881 issue of a Clare, Michigan newspaper. Published weekly. Began publication date unknown. In 1886, the title was changed to The Clare Press |
| Subject/Keywords | Clare (Mich.) - Newspapers; Clare County (Mich.) - Newspapers; |
| Copyright Permission | This material is in the public domain. |
| Type | Newspaper |
| Format | JPG/JPEG |
| Language | English |
| Transcript |
|
