1878-07-19; Clare County Press

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BX GUX H. AVBB*!r.
tit *was believetj by the ancients that blood spots
Bppeaierl cm the moon before war.]
There iB blood on the moon!
Will it pass away soon ?
Bread portents aw rife
Of battle and strife,
.C*;i-* «    -"Fortbeospreysof war
Are leaving their nest
In the Isles of the West
And swarming afar
To the gates of the Czar.
Oh! come they in peace
__ To the islands of Greece ?
« - ,      " Bring they famine or feast
As they sail to the East?
There is Wood on the moon!
Will it pass away soon ?
Jackals are howling,
Gray wolves are prowling,
Patiently watching the Bea,
Where dark forms are riding
And silently biding;
Dread monsters of war,
Black shadows of* Thor,
Grim-visaged and ironed .
And armor-environed
In their corslets of mail
They ride on the gale;
Are they Baynim invaders,
Or Christian crusaders,
Or peaceful sea traders
As they sail to the East,
Past biirning Stromboli
To the marts of Siambouli?
There is blood on the moon!
May it pass away soon!
For mothers are wailing,
Old forms are qua* ling,
Young cheekB are paling
In darkness and gloom;
Terror ia falling,
Dim clouds are palling,
Foreshadowing doom,
For tha Ospreyu of war
Are leaving theii' nest
In the Isles of the West,
And swarming afar
. To the gates of the Czar;
*     -  Bring they famine or feast
As they sail to the East ?
Astronomer, what
o Of this lurid red spot
On the faca of the moon!
Will it pass away soon ?
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Subscription i Sl»50-|)er;,4nnuni.
CLARE, MICHIGANdTRIDAY, JULY 19,1878.
Single Copies s Five Cents.
THE SECRET.
A murmur of laughing waters
Where the lily-blossoms rock,
In the cool and shady eddies
Where the ripples interlock.
And close by the shore two lovers,
But nd words of love they say,
Yet the prying breeze discovers
What they're thinking of to-day.
Ah! foolish and fond young maiden,
Ah I. lover with soulful eyes,
your smiles and your looks are laden
With the wealth of love's agonies.
The waters read your secret,
And the breezes whisper it o'er
To the robin whose nest is hidden
In the willow by the shore.
And the wild bee tells to the clover
The secret so strange and sweet,
And the humming birds whisper it over
In the wood-nymph's cool retreat.
Oh, lovers, bright as the day is
May your future always be,
But no longer hide as a secret
The love which is plain to see !
■JTfflE  ©LB BACMEIiOB-'S  WlJblo
&
The sun of aa August day was sending golden shafts through the interlacing
foliage overshadowing a limpid trout
tream.
A young man was kneeling beside it,,
pole in hand, ostensibly fishing, but the
speckled denizens of the brook had but
little cause for alarm. The cool brain
and steady hand, so dangerous to their
peace ••-under, ordinary circumstances,
were not really putting forth any efforts
against them.
It was & handsome young face turned
in such evident eagerness toward the
family-defined foot-path leading through
tlie wood's to the sylvan spot. Thefeat-
Tores wei-© almost too' regular fox jgaas-"
Guiiaa ideas of feeaisfryj buithe.&m way
the ted lips vera set* together and the,
massive dMsi "eedosaaed Shea from weafc-
eflvcc^lv; foc'^xaj^v AiiofcoE moment
ssifi a b'rgalMess young creature was
fceBideJhfm^panting from her rapid ap-
pxoaBC3"'"' ■■ •     "' '■-'"..
"I began to think you were not coming, Dot, and that my holiday was to
prove a failure."
1'It was-by the merest accident that I
got away. Father hardly trusts me out
of 'Bis sight. But he was called, off on
unexpected business, and I've run every
step. But, Phil, I can't promise to
come again. I feel so guilty all the
time—I can't do it unless things change.".
" Dot," began Philip, reproachfully.
"Iknow it is hard," continued the
girlj^ " but I am as much the sufferer by
ita^yloiu; Though, Phil," with a sudden intensity in her voice; "one thing I
can do. I solemnly promise never, to
marry "anyone but him I love, and that
is—you know who."
"That is poor comfort, Dot. To know
thaiSip'girl you would shed your hearf si
blood for cannot even give you. a kind
word rj.ow.and.then to keep up your spir/
its 1 "I shalt half the time think you are
forgetting me, and making up your mind
to marry the man your=f ather is so taken
with,"
" Ton are very different from the idea
I have of you if you give way to any
such feeling. Why, Phil, all the people
in the world couldn't make me believe
you false, if you had promised to be
true. But I must go. I just came to
tell you, no matter what happens, that
force couldn't drag me into a marriage
with Oram Dinsmore, and to say' good-
by! until we can meet as we used to,
with the full consent of father."
" That'll never be I" was the gloomy
answer. "It's 'good-by* forever, I'm
sure. I wish that old cousin of yours
had left his money to some one else. It
has destroyed our happiness. Tour
father seemed to like me until that will
made "you an heiress, and Oram Dins-
more began coming to the house. Much
as he might have been taken with your
looks, he'd never have bothered his
head abont you unless there had been a
prospect of adding to his possessions.
I know him of old, and he's tight as the
bark of a tree."
"Beally, Philip, you are complimentary. So money is the sum of my attractions, is it?"
But there was no vexation in the eyes
she turned upon his troubled face. Hers
was a "true, trustful nature, and she understood her lover's meaning, though
she tried to speak lightly and playfully,
to prevent a painful parting scene.
Tears were neaa her eyes, but she forced
them back. She must be strong for
both.    She held out her hand.
" Good-by, Philip. Don't be discouraged j all will come right yet"
Philip took the little hand in his
brown palm and gazed longingly into
the sweet young face.    Then he said:
"Won't you give me one parting Mss,
Dot.?"
The girl hesitated, then said gravely:
"Yes, Philip, kiss me here," touching
a slender finger to oneof her soft cheeks,
"and from this time that place shall be
sacred from the touch of other lips until
we meet again."
Philip kissed the cheek, which flushed
redly at the touch of his lips. Dot was
chary of permitting caresses, and, though
they had been fond of one another from
their boy and girl days, Philip had never presumed to kiss her, unless when
playing a game of forfeits in some of the
merry gatherings which are sometimes
given in country neighborhoods for the
purpose of drawing the young people
together and of helping the farmers to
husk their corn, or get the rosy produce
of the orchards into festoons of neatly-
psred. md, $u@terecl apples to dry, on
the principle that many hands and nimble "fingers make light and pleasant
work.   -
The next moment he was following the
lithe figure with sad eyes until it had
disappeared under the overhanging
branches. He lacked Dot's faith in the
kindness of the future. He could only
anticipate a long separation, and perhaps estrangement; and it was with a
heavy heart that he gathered up his fishing tackle and started for home.    - -     j
A distant relative of the Ingrahams
had lately died, and had willed his property to his cousin, Dorothy Ingraham.
During his lifetime he had never showed
that he was aware of the existence of our
'little Dot, and it was a great surprise to
her when the old gentleman's solicitor
came from New York with the intelligence tnat he had made her his heiress.
At first it was a great pleasure to the
girl, and she built many pretty " castles
in the air " about the way she would use
her wealth, until a change came over the
scene.
Mr., Ingraham, who had heretofore
seemed well pleased to see his daughter
'in Philip Bertram's company, began to
entertain, higher views "for hex, and
when young Mr. Dinsmore, son of the
President of the village bank, began to
drop in of an. evening with the evident
intention of seeing Dot, though he
asked for her father, poor Philip began
to be treated coldly, and at last was for-
biddenthe house.
Had Dot's mother been living things
would have been different; for her sterling good sense would have carried* the
day against her husband's sudden inflation of feeling caused by their good
fortune. But since his wife's death Mr.
Ingraham had no one to influence himj
for he considered Dot a mere child, to
be petted and governed as though she
promise me not to say anything about it
until you are sure."
"I will keep silence until you give me
permission toi speak," said Dot.
She wrote at once to the old lady, and,
in due time, received a reply which confirmed her suspicions. So she immediately began to put things in train so
Miss Ingraham should receive her rights.
A month had hardly gone by when,
much to Dot's amusement, Mr. Dinsmore called and requested a private interview with her. She had noticed his
growing fondness for Miss Belmont's
society, and half-suspected the denouement.
As she went into the room he rose to
meet her, and, for the first time, Dot felt
an emotion of sincere liking and respect
ente^her heart for him. Under the in«
fluency .of'genuin© feeling JhB seeme&s".
different persoji' to M^.pB^ble^^ol-^
ishe^&a^ of "the world who had, iSfedto
palmV (0 -the semblance, of; love %pon
were 5 years of age, instead of a well-
grown girl of 18, of more than ordinary
capacity and "good sense. '" '-"? *w ■'■
Affairs went on in this way for several
months. Mr. Dinsmore's calls grew
more: frequent, and a strong " pressure was brought to bear upon Dot "to
make her listen to his suit, which was
now openly declared. She had tried to
discourage him, by treating him with
marked coolness and indifference; but
he would-not take a repulse, and her life
was growing to be an unhappy one, her
father's conversation being principally,
upon the perfections of the suitor, whom'
at heart she cordially detested, though
doing her best to treat him with coue-
PMKp knew of his constant visits, and
heard Honors of an engagement. He
grew gloomy tm<S. morose, and, when he
ckaaced to BaesiDofe, woul& pass her in
a X7&J xfhMi mad® ws •gttd^JMLe heart
• •* Ua uaimy'fc' \7<eum O. jUt'OQrll^if 1Q T^JiSG,
until Dot would have been|glad if her
inheritance had been sunk^inthe sea..
At last another actor appeared—a young-
girl, who, created quite a sensation in
the quiet village. She was from a city
in the' far West, and was very pretty,
and knew just what colors to choose for
ner toilet, to set off the tints of her
glowing brunette complexion.
Dot's heart felt like lead in her bosom-,-
when one day she met the stranger walking jauntily by Philip's side. .She was
shortly afterward introduced to her, and
for a few moments a hateful spirit suggested that she should make herself disagreeable; but she resolutely put the
temptation away from her, and appeared
her own natural, lovable self. She soon
ceased to wonder at Philip's evident
pleasure in Miss Belmont's society. She
was so frank, and cheerful, and sparkling in her conversation that she was
.won from her prejudice, and they grew
lobWTrien-ds.
It was not loEg before Kate Belmont
knew the true state of Dot's feeling
toward Oram Dinsmore, though Philip's
ndme Awas_a,s- a sealed book between,
them; -1 Dblf loved him as dearly as ever,1
and the very intensity of her feeling for
Mm made her strangely shy of mentioning him to even her dearest friend.
It was a great surprise to her when
Kate said to her one day, half-jestingly:
"How strange-that you don't like
Mr. Dinsmore better 1 I have taken a
great fancy to him, but have studiously
Avoided being even pleasant to him, for
rumor gave him to you ; and, thinking
him your special property, I didn't want
to 'play with edged tools.' . But, if syou
don't love him, I shall adopt different
tactics—for I think he's perfectly
splendid I"
Dot smiled sadly.
" 'What is meat to one is poison to
another.' How true those old' adfiges'
are. I don't think he cares for me. He
never looked at me before I became
rich. I wish old Jared Ingraham had
leftNiHS;money to some one else I"   .     •
"3ated Ingraham," said Kate,'musingly. '' Where have I heard that name ?
Oh/1 know. I have the dearest old
friend out West, and it's her love-story
which that name has brought-vto my
mind. Something happened to separate
them when they were both very young,
and she left all her friends and settled
in the West. But she has always remained single, and to this day is true to
the memory of her old love. By-the-by,
her name is most the same as yours, only
it's Dorothy Ingraham instead of Dot."
*VWhy," said Dot, "my name-is
Dorothy. They only call me Dot for
short."
"I wonder if you and Miss Ingraham
are related to each other ? I am quite
sure that 'Jared Ingraham' was her lover's name. If it was the same person,
doesn't it seem strange that he should
Eave left his money to a young chit like
you, begging your Ladyship's pardon,
instead of to his faithful old love ?"
Dot's face was a study as Kate rattled
on.   It fairly shone.
" Kate," said she, " I see it all! I
am an "interloper. Isn't it nice?" The?
will said. "I give and bequeath to my
dear cousin Dorothy Ingraham," that's
all I can remember verbatim, but that's
enough. All the law terms in the world
wouldn't make it any plainer to me. We
all thought it strange that he should
have left it .to me when he had never
paid me the slightest attention when he
was alive, but the lawyer said that to his
knowledge there was no other person bf
that name, so I must be the one. Give
me your friend's address, and I'll soon
get to the truth of the matter."
"I'll give it you, of course, but first
as he stroke, «*Thave come to make a-
confession, and to ask your forgiveness.
Not for withdrawing my suit, for I know
you have never even liked, much less
lovedj thefunworthy man who stands before you; but for persecuting you with
my unwelcome attentions._ Under the
light which a genuine passion hats shed
upon my actions I see how contemptible they have been, and wish to apologize to"you, and make my peace before-
I dare to speak to the young lady I love,
of my desire to win her for my wife.
Will you forgive me?"
Dot held out her hand, "With all my
heart, Mr. Dinsmore, and I shall always
respect you for the frank, manly part
you-have acted at the last. You have
my best wishes for your success."
Mr. Ingraham was at first very angry
at Oram Dinsmore's defection, butwhen
Dot--said, decidedly, " I would, not have
married him if I had remained single
all my life," he determined to give up
trying to direct the course of true love,
making a virtue of necessity, yet thinking himself all the while a model father.
' Dot was willing that her father should
please himself witkthis delusion so long
as he withdrew his opposition to Philip's coming to the house.
When, a few months afterward, the
real heiress, Miss Dorothy Ingraham,
^appeared upon the scene, uncharitable
persons said that Mr. Dinsmore had
known of the mistake.
« But Kate Belmont, his betrothed wife,
has the pleasant consciousness that she
had won his heretofore mercenary heart
while he thought Dot the true heiress,
and that he values one glance of her
brigM fey^s'Snbse tlnaa tz aid the wnole':
of JDofe supposed" &oussndoi
~i^W '^~._■ "Ji^f^lif^7^"* >*~-SA'*;-'';*t;;t''" h
!•■-**■. -
WES OEMISC}
A Successful Experiment in Philadelphia.
[5Tom the PhilaSSlphia Press.]
-  Some six years ago. a number of gentlemen in this citjjj-trominent in reT-
gious,   benevolent ~lncl  philanthropic
works, associated themselves together in
a new enterprise.    The results of their
labors are seen in t|jg Franklin Home.
Not all of fkese' g^nMemen had been
what is usually termed" drinking men;"
but those who had no| suffered from intemperance dkectiyl^wifSeSBed the results among their ow& family or friends,
and had eventually b^een called together
in a quiet, informal jjmy to discuss the
question, "Is intenfijerance a disease?
If so, is .it   incura^e?"    They were
divided in opinion, t&tthey were unaai-
mous in one thing—4liat liquor drinking
was evil, and that if there was any way
to check it or to glove its -victims, it
should be tried witfo&at delay.     And so
the house No.  911 ^locust street was
rented, and subsequently the two houses
Adjoining, and the %ork began.    Six
years have now paB|ed since the first
inmate was admitteStto the Home, and
the result has demoiistrated that what
was at first an^exp-liiment has clearly
earned the rigfit^t^be^regarded as a
permanently succesg|al institution. But^
notwithstanding th«Sfactthat the Franklin BeformatoryHo|&3 for Inebriates has
now been in existe||e nearly six years,
.-there are comparatively few in Philadelphia who recognizej^ihe great and good
wori£j0ccompKshed1b|' it and the manner
in which this work id'done.    Adjoining
the office, and runssaag back to the extreme end of thohoitge, is a commodious
and handsome chapef,. capable of seating
300 persons,   an<i  Shis is   invariably
crowded to excess, "whether the occasion
be the religious ^prvices on Sunday or
the meetings held cgi^very Tuesday and
Thursday evening.* ; A splendid library
and reading-room,: |he former having,
perhaps, a couple of thousand volumes
of standard works-* Of  fiction, history,
travel and biograj||^5 and the latter a
full list of the leading daily and weekly
papers   and   periodicals,   occupy the
ground .floor  of  tLa house  adjoining
that ' in     which - the    chapel     is
situated.      The    uhper    stories    are
divided into finely iumidhed suites of
rooms   and single " apartments, which
are   as    neat    au^*   commodious   as
in     any     other   'Srsfc-class    .hotel.
Inmates of the H<: >f-Q have an abundance of excellent TooS, are free to go
and come, and aro o^3y espected to conform to such rerj-alr-,v?s>*23_as govern any
well-regulated honf/
ment has been cctr't
proved by lis vgs^>
'mates during* -t-ke ■"
fam® hem. .horn
■Mist the experi-
i -n abundantly
f*   tie 888 ia-
over his head, his clear eye twinkles
with every amusing utterance, his air is
that of a student, an inquirer. He has
a frank cordiality which is charming; he
listens to you as if you were teaching
him, not he you, and you forget that you
are in the presence of our first American
writer, and talk out your thought as to
your own brother. Mr. Emerson is
quoted as saying that he "had written
nothing for several years "—his " work
was dona/]	
COACHIHCHN HEW MEXICO.
Blow a Single Koad Agent Bobbed a Stage
and "ihree Passengers.
[From the Messilla (ST. M.) News.]
One of the boldest robberies that has
occurred in this section of country for a
long time happened this week. We interviewed the passengers, and gathered
the following facts: "The coach was
coming from Silver Oity to Messilla, having as passengers Maj. Willard, Paymaster ; Mr. Hathaway, his clerk, and
Lieut. West, Sixth Cavalry, from Arizona,
with Samuel Eckstein as driver. About
5:30 p. m., as the coach was on an open
plain, about a mile and a half this side
of Deadman's arroyo, and the other side
of Cook's canon, a man masked suddenly jumped forward from behind some
bushes, which had concealed him, levelesl
his rifle at the driver, and said: "Stop
and throw off that mail-sack, or I'll blow
you to h. -11." Sam's mules had jumped
one side, but he pulled them up and
stopped, and found looking down a rifle-
barrel not a very comfortable position,
and, notwithstanding Beecher says there
is no such place, he did not feel as though
he cared to be started on the road just
at that time and in that particular manner, so he threw off the mail-sack. He
then said: " Throw off the express-box."
Sam replied: "I have none." He said:
'•' Throw off the other mail-sack." Sam
replied: "I have no other." He then
changed, his gun sufficiently to bear upon
Maj. Willard, upon the back seat; he
had a revolver strapped to tke side of
the gun and a finger on the trigger of
each; he was cursing at a terrible rate
most of the time; he said. "I'm d—d
desperate; some of you may get me, but
I'll get some of you sure as Christ; shell
out what you got, d—d quick; throw it
out, and the first men that makes a
wrong motion I'll blow him to pieces."
Maj. W. said, " You say if I move my
hands you'll shoot; how can I get my
money?'' He said, "You can move one
hand for that." So the Major got his
money, $26, and threw it out; lie then
turned to Lieut. West and said, " Throw
out what you got;" he threw out §8.
He now saw Hathaway on the front
c$cit, and 0aidj ".Throw but what you
A WHOLE FAJ9ULI IKBI0JLA.TEB,
vw-'-ij
nr»*,.">FT.
I l>"-'
'iMa "her yoqng namesake, and"
wouldnot consent to take more than half
of the property. The mistake about her
legacy has been the means of drawing
her into the society of a young relative
of whose very existence she would otherwise have been ignorant. It has proved
Very pleasant to her in her old age to
have such a treasure trove of warmhu-
tman affection bestowed upon her, for
young Dorothy loves her aged cousin
very dearly, and is never better pleased
than when entertaining her in her pretty
home, for she is now Mrs. Philip. Bertram, and the happiest little matron
under the sun.
He Was After BickenSo
" Do you want to hire a reporter ?"
inquired a red-nosed young man, as he
thrust his illuminated olfactory into this
office yesterday.
He was informed that we had all the
help we required at present.
' i " Sorry—very sorry," he said, bowing
quite low; "just noticed by squib in
newspaper that the immortal Dickens
began life as a reporter; first I had
heard of it, and concluded at once to
besgin this way myself. Dickens made
a great success'of it, and what has been
done once can be done again."
We acknowledged that Dickens had
made quite a hit.
"A decided hit," put in the young
man, "and all I want is to start under
the same auspices. Sure you have no
place for me ?"
'' No place at present."
"Mighty sorry," replied the applicant; "have just been reading 'David
Centerfield,' and am quite charmed witn
the author's style."
"'David Copperfield,' not 'Center-
field,'" we ventured to suggest.
"Perhaps you're right; yes, now I
recollect, you are right; much obliged ;
/been playing base-ball lately, and have
got names confused. Will be in town
few days, and hope you will not forget
me if a vacancy should occur."
.if We promised to remember him, and
'the young man withdrew.
Protruding his beacon light once
more, he said:
"Daniel' Webster, Benjamin -Franklin and Napoleon Banaparte also began
life in newspaper offices; but I don't
care for them. Dickens is the man I'm
after," and he closed the door softly^
and *ffent down stairs on his tip-toes.—*
Oil City Dei rick.
From Wonder to Wonder.
A Troy inventor will shortly take out
•tf patent for a cataphone. By means of
wires stretched along back-yard fences1
and house-tops he conveys, with the aid
of some simple machinery, all concate
nated caterwauls into an air-tight barrel. By another simple contrivance the
sound in the barrel can be compressed,
and can be used in quantities for fire and
burglar alarms. Tne inventor predicts
thafche wilt give to the'boys something
that will make Borne howl, in place of
dangerous fire-crackers for Fourth-of-
July celebrations. For blasting rocks,
he says, it is just the thing.—Troy
Whig.    	
Alas! Too Tsuc.
Flattery, flattery, and always flattery,;
is the true motto for the heaven-born
statesman who holds, and holds rightly,
that ascendency in the social empyrean
is a necessary condition of political
sway. There is but one way for acquiring power with individuals, whether
they are men or women; assail persistently their weak points, carry those
points victoriously, and imbue them
with the delusion that their weak points
are their strong ones.—London World.
- y-s^j-S.^-j^w *„,
and one-&fr& weeks'. In order to show
what a class of confirmed inebriates are
dealt with in this institution, it may be
stated that sixteeH"years and six months
is recorded as the average time of drinking for each inmate. The results-attained in the treatment of periodical
drinker's naturally compare more favorably than with those classed as " constant." Of the former 213 have been
reformed in five yeaES, and 136 of the
latter. The full and interesting statistics kept" by the Home furnish food for
thought as to the hereditary effects of
drunkenness. Of 425 inmates, it is
found that in 3M cases neither parent
drank to excess. In only five instances
both parents are classified as "constant
drinkers," and ot - the total number
seventy-two fathers are so recorded. In
the whole list it is found that only two
mothers are recorded as "having drank
to excess." The extent of the good
work done by this noble institution may
be imagined, when it is stated that since
its organization 80,786 free meals have
beeijagiven to its inmates who were.un-
ablelio" pay, while those of the pay inmates amounted to 123,691. The total
number of meals in six years was 256,-
544. In concluding these statistics the
following table of the professions of the
inmates will be found of interest, as
showing the classes whose representatives are redeemed and restored to society by this influence: Artists, 8;
book-keepers, 49; bricklayers, 17; bankers, 2; carpenters, 30; clerks, 60;
clergymen, 5; -druggiBts, 11; editors, 4;
engineers, 10; engravers, 5; judge, 1;
lawyers, 12; merchants, 44; manufacturers, 9; machinists, 6; printers,«31;
professors, 9; physicians, 15; reporters,
5; salesmen, 20, with representatives of
97 other occupations.
The Bannock Indians.
e--.   "■ '.""is-
Gen; [Crook, the best Indian fighter
in the [country, says that it is a hard
thing tc^e forced to Mil the red meit
when they are clearly in the right..": .He;
was ambng the Bannocks in the spring^
and, finding them in a desperate situation, telegraphed for support, but word
came that no appropriation had been
made. He states that the tribe^have
never been half fedr The Agent?', has
sent them off for half a year, to enable
them to pick up something to live on,
but there is nothing for them in5, this
country. The buffalo are all gofte^and
an Indian can't catch enough jack-rabbits for himself and f&mily," apd then
.there 'aren't enough jack-rabbits to
eWbS \ Wtoi; are they to do ? Starvation is staring them in .the face, and if
thef wait much longer Will not be able
to fight. They understand the situation, and fully appreciate what is before
them. Those prairies are their last
source of subsistence. They are covered with water from April to June or
July, and there is a sort of root which
grows r jn them like a sweet potato^ A
fl'quaw can gather several bushels a day
of tb?em. They then dig a hole and
build a fire in it. After it is thoroughly
heated the roots are put in and baked,
and when they are taken out they are
very sweet and nice. This root is their
m ain source of food supply. When that
fails, aiid their squaws and children are.
.starving, they go to war. Then the
army is sent out to kill them. Gen.
Crook has a strong word for the present
Indian policy. He calls it an outrage.
Balph Waldo Emerson.
Mr. Balph Waldo Emerson, as he appears in these days, is pleasantly described by a writer in the Merald, of
Boston." His spare features are sharply
outlined, his thin gray hak straggles
**I -lavo only six-bits." Ea.
dinner at the last station." * The -robber
said, ""Well, I'm not robbing anybody;
you can keep that; you may want to buy
something on the Rio Grande; now go
ahead; I'll follow after the coach for some
distance, and if anyone attempts to get
out I'll riddle him." He appeared either
very much excited or half drunk, and,
Ireeping his gun leveled at the coach,
walked after it some distance, then returned, took the mail sack and went to
one side of the road. Whether he had a
horse or not is not known. The coach
came on to Fort Cummin gs.
It now appears that there were two
men, although only one was seen at the
time, and one had a horse. They were
tracked several miles on their way to
Mexico.
"Four Children Burned to Death and One
Impaled—Their father IFatally Burno
in Trying to Save Them.
[From the St. Louis Bepubliean. J
About three miles east of Bicker's
Prairie, Mo., lived John Leonard, with
his wife, married daughter, and five
younger children. The house was a substantial log structure, with an attic overhead, and a summer kitchen on the south
side, the roof being so made aB to connect the house with the kitchen, which
stood the width of a hallway distant
from the main house. A pair of stairs
in this hallway led up to the attic, from
which there was no other egress: Friday night the five children went to sleep
in the attic, the older people sleeping in
the room below. During the night, from
some unexplained cause, the kitchen
caught fire, and, before the danger was
discovered, the staircase leading to the
attic was in flames. The people on the
first floor had little difficulty in escaping,
for, though the only door was exposed to
the intense heat, there was a window
from which they easily gained places of
safety. But, for the children in the
attic, there seemed to be no hope. The
oldest, was a boy 16 years old, and, when
the alarm reached him, his youth and
inexperience were not proof against the
excitement of such an occasion. The
solid walls of logs imprisoned the children, and the fierce flames raged and
roared at the doorway. There was a
window in the north end of the attic,
barely large enough for a person to crawl
through, and, it would seem that, with
proper management, this might have
become the means of saving all. But
the father, in his frantic efforts to reach
the attic by the stairs, had got his clothing on fire, and been so badly burned
that he was entirely disabled. There
was no one to direct or manage for the
children, and, finally, the oldest boy,
having torn the sash from the window,
threw himself out, leaving the four children to their, miserable fate. Their four
corpses were found the next morning
charred to cinders.
But, as though this was not enough of
horror, still another tragedy has to be
chronicled in connection with the affair.
When the boy jumped from the window
he had only a short twelve feet to fall,
and might easily have expected to get off
with n, few bruises; but, as it happened,
a picket fence ran along under the window, about two feet distant from the
house. The palings were of hard wood,
split thin, and sharpened to long, .tapering points. In his terror, the boy had
blindly cast himself upon this bristling
fence. The sharp points pierced his un-
rTirotected-sides, and impaled him,   fSb?
"£■'"'7-    _ r~  *-     -•••  - --.-.*-,   •, . - -
i£y.'tQ.(?r }*■"
-1
jo an MD T3BDS 'Sjpjlftlfi,
I am only a farmer's girl,
John is only a farmer's lad,    ,        . .   ■ •.,
But somehow, when we chance to meet,
The very sound of his-coming feet
Can make my heart so glad
That up to my cheek the warm blood flies,
And he readB Ms welcome in my eyes.
1 am only a farmer's girl, •
Master Tom is the Squire's son,
But, strange to teli, his feet this way
Turn often toward the close of day,
After the chores are done,
When John (he passes the meadow gate)
Gives me a scowl, and—will not wait.
I am only a farmer's girl,
So what can the Squire want of me 1
My heart is John's: John Tmowe it well
But it isn't for me the truth to tell-
So bashful a lad is he!
So the Squire may come and the Squire may go
But all the answer he'll get is " Hoi"
The Squire praises my hair and eyes;
The Squire says I'm a lady born.
What care I for his foohsh speech?
Tis John's voice only my heart can teach
To sing like birds at morn.
But John is jealous, the foolish boy,
And my days are shorn of half their joy;
Oh. I am only a farmer's girl,
And John is only a farmer's lad,
But I'd rather be his in humble life
Than be a "lady " as Squire's wife,
With a restless heart and sad I
But John—so bashful a boy is he!—
Is a long while asking my heart of ine.
—Harper's Weekly.
PITH AMB POiflTo
Mxnebs at dinner rest on their ores.
Two ijtti,e boys were nothing-loth
To eat two verdant peaches each;
And now one tombstone covers both.
Thou hast this season for thine own, O.Peach!
—Puck.
Vebv few girls can spank a pepperbox as it should be spanked, and yet
they all want to be married and raise
"families.
- A Sandy Hook fisherman, while mowing on the marshy shore lately, killed a
forty-foot whale. That was a good-
scythed whale.
The phonograph is like the small
brother of a young lady. It will repeat
everything said in its presence without
regard to blushes.
When a boy bats a ball through a parlor window, the hay may not lose his
inning, but the man who owns the window is invariably put out.
" ABE.you the mate of this ship?" said
a newly-arrived passenger to the cook.
" No, sir. I am the man that cooks tha
mate," said the Hibernian.
At a recent tin-pan serenade to &
newly-married couple in H"ew Jersey,
the bridegroom^climbed up the chimney,
thtfs making a oridal-tower of itJ
That was a bright old salt who, when
he was asked to take a fellow to ride on
3hore in the Captain's gig, said, "I
will if you get the ship's horse-sir."
An. extra strong-minded woman remarked that an old bachelor is a man
who,"through selfish motives, has refrained from making some women
wretched.
Pbiest—" Well, Pat, and what did the
landlord do to ye about tiie farm?"
Pat—'.'Sure, yef riverence, he tould me
I could have immediate possession in six
months' time."
Stanley is an awful liar. In one of
his letters about Central Africa he speaks
of ."the lions stalking in the .hills."
He'll tell us next that the elephants can
sing and chew tobacco.
How appbopbiate was the remark of
a Texas lawyer to a doctor with whomhe
quarreled, when the man of medicine
asked permission to go and get his gun,
"Physician, heel thyself."
*' Kesramics ?" said Williams, inqai?-
ingly; " crockeiy ?   Ah ! no more Is©*-?"!-
^
^
10 more ercsise:
"■Vnlnn"--
' SOI' 2T.©.
■ icj ^.
ijy ~2jis
A Poverty-stricken Man in Luck.
It was during the war that a well-
known business man of this city kept
gossip going, and his money, too, in the
whirl" and excitement of a fast life. He
had large army contracts, and from them
his resources came. The money, easily
obtained, was in truth thrown away.
He had barrels of it. Estimates as to
his means were not infrequently placed
at $2,000,000 or $3,000,000. He had all
tiie attributes of a prodigal—in fast
horses, fast women, an unquenchable
thirst for wines, and the desire to be
talked about as a man about town. He
was as generous as he was reckless, and
fair-weather friends swarmed about him.
They helped themselves to his funds and
sang his glories as long as he had a dollar to spend. In the height of his folly
he thought of what was to come—the
inevitable death. What men said about
him living puffed up his vanity, but
what they would say about him dead
must depend upon the splendor with
which he could go out of the world.
Over his grave he wanted to have the
-most imposing monument in Spring
'Grove. Ta prepare for this possession
^he, one day, extracted from his Govern-
•ment bonds $25,000, and put them in an
"envelope, which, being sealed and indorsed "proposals," he placed in his
safe. In his round of dissipation the
monument and everything connected
with death slipped from his memory.
The natural sequence of his mode of
living—distressing poverty—came upon
him. His family barely had enough to
keep soul and body together. His
horses, diamonds, fin? house, business
and friends passed away. In the wreck
he mourned his folly and worked at
whatever he could get to do.
Among the things left to him were
barrels and boxes filled with valueless
paper. Years went on without improvement in his affairs, until last Monday
evening. While overhauling the contents of one of the barrels, a package
indorsed "proposals" spurred his curiosity somewhat. He broke the seals,
tore off the wrapper, and, to his astonished gaze, $25,000 in bonds were revealed.^ They were the monument fund,
long forgotten, and now resurrected
when a dollar to him was as big as a
three-sheet poster.—Cincinnati Times.
^Xt'CJi!<!£Zxtj^s^Z' fl£^"j tiEiCia <Z^^*~-£>'<*-  w^-a^
there is little expectationbf MSieeoveryT
The calamity is one of the most extraordinary and appalling that it is" possible
to conceive as happening to a family
living in- a small, low building. In the
city, in lofty tenements, there is often
danger that families will be cut off, but
it is almost an unparalleled occurrence
under circumstances like this.
An examination of the phonograph
record has recently been made in England with interesting results. Each
vowel sound is found to have its characteristic record—that for long E, for example, resembling two Indian clubs with
their handles together. The long and
short sounds of the same vowels have a
similar record, differing only as theory
would lead one to expect.
Perby Bowsheb, who was hanged in
Chillicothe, Ohio, was convicted on the
testimony of his brother, to whom he
had incautiously shown a bond stolen
from the murdered mas.
Shepherdess and Wolf.
Mary Belle Loy, barely 14 years of
age, is a shepherdess, whose rosy cheeks,
sun-burned face, and graceful form, as
she mounts her pony, would excite the
envy of many city belles. Some days
ago, while looking after her woolly
wards, she discovered a full-grown wolf,
of the coyote species, stealthily approaching the flock. She put her horse
to his speed, and the wolf fled. Then
there was a race over the hills and
prairie, neither showing any indication
of fatigue, until finally he was compelled to consider himself "run down."
Now came the "tug of war.." The little
maiden unbuckled her bridle rein, and
madetheringat.the end, and this only,
with good her position as mistresfe of
the situation, and without alighting from
her saddle soon disabled her foe and
saved her lambs. Then she started for
the nearest neighbor for assistance, but
found no one at home who could assist
her, save another girl, who mounted
another pony, and, armed only with a
dull knife, these two girls were soon galloping over the prairie to save the scalp,
for which the county pays a "royalty"
when presented to the proper officer.
When they returned, the principal of the
Bed Biding Hood escapade had partially
recovered, and was moving off. But one
girl threw him down and the other cut
his throat,—St. Louis Globe.
Pineapples.
A large portion of the area of the Bahama islands is devoted to the cultivation of pineapples.. As many as 1,500,-
000 of the fruit have been collected from
a single acre at one crop. The pineap-
ples'of New Providence are superior to
any other variety, and often attain an
enormous size. One, grown in Pembrokeshire, weighing 1CU pounds, and
measuring 10J inches inheight, exclusive of the stalk and crown, and 22 inches
in Gircumference, was served up at the
coronation banquet of George IV., and
since then the improved modes of cultivation have greatly increased the size
and quality of the fruit. There is an
enormous demand for the Bahama pineapples both in Europe and America, and
a new industry has lately sprung up in
the island in p reserving the iruit in tins.
One factory in Nassau alone exports annually 1,000,000 tins, valued at $80,000.
Fatal SigMmare.
Last week Thursday a number of the
residents of the quiet village of Clarendon engaged in a friendly game of ball.
Among them was Lyman Preston, a
painter by trade, and a man respected
by every one. He was about 55 years
cf age, and had never known a day's
sickness. On the day in question he
seemed to be in more than usually perfect health and tpirits. When he went
to his home at night he partook of a
hearty meal and went to bed. Some
time during the night his family were
awakened by hearing him groan in away
peculiar to him when suffering from the
nightmare, to which, he was frequently
subject. They accordingly went to him
and tried their best to awaken him, but
in vain—he died. His case was investigated by several physicians of the vicinity, who pronounced it a case of nightmare and nothing more.-—ISoc/jester
Express,
! j**5~--Ki*&~-b:
"Ho,
Oil
this .way.'.' ""TEdST-
Haven't you any larger!"
The large ones are all sold','
started off, and got as far as the door,,
when the clerk called after him: ."Look
here, stranger, take one of these small
bells for your cow, and you-won't have
half the trouble in finding her; for when
you hear her bell you will alwayB know
she can't be far off." The farmer bought
the bell.
When the trianglehad called the meet-
ing-to order, Brother Gardner arose with
his usual sleekness andsaid: '? Gem'len,
if it wasn't for de wheels of a wagin de
wagin wouldn't move. When de wheels
am on, den what?" " Grease!" solemnly
exclaimed the old man Toots. " K-rect I"
whispered the President softly, rubbing
his hands together. '' We hez de wagin
an' de wheels. We will now pass de hat
aroun' for de grease."
MUSIC.
" Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast,
To"cahn the troubled soul with dreams of peace,
To fijl'the wearied life with pleasant rest,
And make the discords of our being cease."
He spake/and paused amid the living stream
Of- people.cn the street in ceaseless flow,
And watctordVas-'in a tranquil noonday dream,
Four Irishmen unload the piano.
And'niore ho sang; he said, " Oh, land alive!
Oh,murderymurder! fire! police!   Oh, dear!
Oh, owl   Oh, mother!   Doctor I doctor!   Help 1
Oh, blessed Martha!   Goodness, gracious me I"
"No more he said; in time the doctor .came.
The mad crowd surged and eddied down the
street.   > • *
A music teacher, no one knew his name,
Caught a piano leg on both his feet.
—Burlington HawH-Bye.
A Bussian Tragedy,,
The Court of Assizes in Yaloh, Bussia,
had the case presented of a boy of 9
years, who had murdered his mother.
The latter, since the recent death of her
husband, had permitted herself an intimacy with a Government functionary
which her son became aware of, and by
which he was deeply mortified. He
brooded over his mother's conduet, and
begged her to change her course. The
mother laughed, and without further
listening told him to meddle with matters that concerned his age. The boy
resolved on. her death, and dug a grave
for her. One night he entered her room
with a hatchet, and, after contemplating
the sleeping woman, and. praying for.
her, fell asleep himself. His mother
found him in the morning with the
hatchet by his side. She questionedhim
with alarm regarding the hatchet. He
gave a satisfactory excuse, and renewed
his supplications for a cessation of her
bad conduct. She told him to hold his
tongue. On the night following he killed
her. as she slept, with a single blow of
the hatchet, and dragged her to the grave
he had prepared. A search was made
by the police, and the freshly stirred
earth with which the boy had filled the
cavity excited-suspicion. The body was
found, and the boy was arrested,
A French agricultural paper" announces the discovery of an extremely
simple and cheap means to protect
houses from being struck by lightning.
This consists merely of bundles of straw
attached to sticks or broom handles, and
placed on the roofs of houses in an upright position. The first trials of tas
simple apparatus were made at Taibes
(Hautes Pyrenees), by some intelligent
agriculturists, and results were so satisfactory that soon after eighteen com
manes of the Tarbes district provided
all their houses with these bundles of
straw, and there have been no accidents
from Hghtning since.
Fifty-one metals aro known to exist,
thirty of which have been discovered
within the present century, Four, hundred years ago but seven wes© kaowa.
^"BrMlitor