1878-09-20; Clare County Press |
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t ^--im^iSw
^l£l§£iZ£$g£& —«. t^w!
"3/=
ir
•Wlffig-gigg ."WAgiSTFIiMTiTXTOK.
Ton, "Wilytma, Come 'ere, sir, iernegiate! Want
dat you got -under dat *box ?
T-v&sSsi'm dj*c'a_tiSniioin? nowf-'Whut you* Bay
f5_? iia.'l'atiffiii-bTitroe-JSf
Seems to ma yon is nioughtiy partic_e—prehaps dey
is of a ns-?? breed—
111 jis t&Q aleak. Hi! ef dat aint de cur**owBest
seek I ever seed.
I calls (tat a plain -waten-alllion, you scamp! an' 1
snows whar it growed—
Itcoisied£'omd9,-fi**QiQ,ersofi cornfield, jis ont *■
'der Bide 0'a? Tea?}.-
Tea stole it, you raB_l! yau stole it I Twatche"
font down in de lot;
^a*tinse I gits ih'ough -wid you, nigger, you -wo
• eben ba e! ftrease'spot!
PlJ.'fis you! Abe "Lincoln! Abe Lincoln ! go c
me a hick'ry! be quick!
An* out me de toughest, too, sir, you kin find dis
side o'de crick!
-jfil Isrn you, you Wilyum Ike Petius, to steal an' lief
you young sinner,
©isgracin" yo' ole Christian mammy, andmakin' ber
leave cooiin' dinner!
"STow, ain't you ashamed o' yo'se'f, sir ? I am 1 I'm
ashamed you's my son! >
An* So good, old Eecorderer Angel, he's ashamed,
sir, o' -what you has done;
An' he-'awrotedit down up yonder, in burnin' an'
great big letters,
" 0ns w^erinMon, stoled by Wilyum Isaac Fet-
t tup" _ ,,;-,
An' "what do you .sTpose Brudder Bascom,,. yo'
teacher at Sunday-school,
Would say, ef he knowed hew awful {ja's gres-
sioned the Golden Bute? .'
Boy 1 whar Is de raisin* I gi'ert you? Is you houn'
fur to be a blaefcyiBun ?
I _. apprised daf sVcS-teof". yd1 mammy would steal
any man's -watermillion 1
AuTni'gffine nowttt cut it right open, an' you, sir,
shan't have-narry .bite I .
ITur a boy who wiO. steal wktermillions—an' right in
open daylight—
Ain'fc-*-»7^rtw(J2«X i£s gbeeh! Abe Lincoln! -Abe
r ., Ii-i-n-c-o»l-n! make 'ase' wi' dat switch!
Well!—%teab'n' a g-r-e-e-n wa-t3r-mil-lion! who
-] OTet<heerd tell o^ jis sich ?
Ca tteU Vhen dey-s ripe? *W'y,. thump am-an
when dey go panic dey is green;
But when dey .go punk, now you mind me, dey is.
ripe—San'date is jis-want I mean! ' . ' .
An' nex' time you hook watermilhons, you heerd
' me, you ign'ant .yctatfg htink I:
Ef you don't want a lickro' all over, be sho' dat d ,;
all 'il^o punk I
Louisville Ctmrier-Joumal.
. ■'. ' 7 * shipWKSCK. 7 " 7. 7 ,-
My ship resisted- the furious, tempeaj* j .-_ n , \f
Ihe wind tore, her sails to shreds in yain ^
Canvas. ienff,'and strained masts bending,
She held her way through the foaming main.
The cruel rocks broke through her timbers;
She shrank and shivered in helpless pain;
But they stanched the wound with my costliest*
treasnres,
And she bent her course toward port again* .
"With my dearest hopes I had manned the vessel
That in storm and breakers alike held fast;
Strong and patient, they lsuglied derision -
At'the jag"ged rock and the crazy blast.
And when she entered the gates of the harbor,
I cried, "At last!—Bhe is safe at last!"
I thought of the*calmto follow the tempest,
Of peace to come after danger pant.
"With sails all folded she lay at anchor^
In the peadeful dawn of a summer day;
When a ghostly breath blew" through the rigging, i
And before my sight she faded away.
Thp'fcrew.thaShad won through so many dangers,
IitelesB,- stretched oir the deck they lay % ~
Anfi I watched them sink, with my ship and treasures,
'Mid the-shifting waves of that sunny bay.
—Harper's filqnnzine..
A *W_l*_>s" 1WM E^SSIOH*
I did not marry for love. __ Very few \
people do, so in this respect I am neither
Setter nor -worse than ray neighbors. No,
I certainly did not marry for love I be-
Beve-ima-med Mr. _artwright simply
because he asked nae, .... .
This "was "how it happened. He -was
rector of "Ooyeton, ■ and -we lived at the
Manor House, --which was about ten;
minutes' walk-from the church and the
sectory. "We had. daily= service at Bove-
to% and I nearly always attended it, and
it came to pass- that _fr.-,;Cartwrigh.t invariably walked home with me. It was
;a. matte of custom now, mdX thought
■aoil-ilBgof^^^ on
- §_3 wholSy-it wM raftei* >|3ea4arit to me
Moi" ■ .■■'■■' '.'■:" ■'■' ''■» ■ ' *" ••* ■■' '.
■-,.".■ jTm£pzm$e8@tM<M„mmt.%j®m rather-
->j' mw^^^^^)'0^s--'^^^h^yf^.so^
J-Jo fe> t¥e e^ea-deT^Me—led.tip io.-tho- -iSaao-ff [
Ct ii
OOIJH^."
Subscription: $1,50 per Annum. CLAEE, MICHIGAN, EB|I)A%,S.EP'i;EMBER 2D, 1878. Single Gopes: Five Cents,
*3"_3S "aMKissi *hoE&nk&.'
rB*i
alone, and Hero appeared to think go
too, for he was most unhappy, sniffling
round his master's chair in the most
melancholy manner.
My plate, for the firet time since my
marriage, was empty, as I sat down to
Ibreakfast, fol* 'my4' husband, who was an
early riser, always had a little bouquet
to greet me with every morning; frequently I forgot all about it, and left it
to be put into water by the servant; this
morning I would have treasured ifc most
carefully, if he had gathered it.
After MessMast I determined to rouse
myself, and go and visit some of the
poor people in the village, so I filled my
basket with some little delicacies for the
sick and set out.
"Wherever I went it was the same
story; all held forth on my husband's
goodness and kindness, foe all had been
helped by him in some way oi? other, and
all loved and respected him. Aa I
listened with burning cheeks, I felt as if
I was the only person on earth who had
treated him with cruel ingratitude, and
_ was the very person whom he most
loved and cherished.
At last I went home, tired and sick at
heart; but there was n® one to notice
I was pale and worn out, no one to ge.
me wine or soup to revive me, no one to
make me lie down and rest, as he would
liave done had he been ttiere. Oh, how
I missed him ! What a fcol I had been!
"Was there ever woman loved and cared
for as I had been? "Was there ever
friend so ungrateful ? Oh.! why had I
let him leave me ? I was sure he would
never come back. "Why had he gone
away ? .
: And conscience answered, "You
"drove him; he gave you all lie had to
give, and in return you gave Mm nothing but cold looks and unkind words;
and so he left you, to seek love and
sympathy from his mother. "
This thought almost maddened me.
In fancy I saw her sitting in my place by
his side, loving and caressing him, as I
had the best right to love and caress
aim; I pictured her receiving tenderly
""" little loving acts I had received so
THE BOSNIANS.
A
lis wife.
I have never been able to find out
why I said yes, but I did. Perhaps I
thought it a pity to throw away so much
love; perhaps it was because he was so
terribly in earnest that I dared not refuse him; perhaps lieared hisrpale face/
and his low pleading voice would ever
haunt me if I rejected his love ; or perhaps it was because he only asked me
to marry him—he did not ask me if I
loved him, for I thitck h9 guessed I did
not; perhaps it was ali these reasons put
together; but anyhow I said yes, and in
due time we were married.
I ought to have been very happy, for
he wasA*,m,ost devoted husband, but I
was nol, and, thoughrl did not notice it
then, I know now that for the first six
months after our marriage he was not
happy either.
It was all my fault. I either would not
or could not love him; I accepted all his
devotid- to me as a matter of course, but
I made no effort to return it; and I am
sure he h&& found out that he had made
a mistake in marrying a woman who did
not love him.
One morning, about six months after
our marriage, he told me at breakfast
that he intended leaving me alone for a
few weeks io stay with his mother, who
wasnot very well. He watchedthe effect of
this announcement on me, but, though
I was really displeased, I concealed my
annoyance, and asked carelessly when
he would start.
He replied, the next day if I had no
objection, and so it was settled.
He was more affectionate than usual
that day, and I was colder than ever; I
only once alluded to his journey, and
that was to ask if I might have my sister Maud to stay while he was gone.
The next morning I was anxious to
avoid a. formal parting, so I drove to the
station with him; as tiie train moved off,
I remembered this was our first parting
since our marriage, and I wished I had
not been so cold.
When I got home the house looked so
dreary and empty, and there .was no one
to meet me; presently one of the servants came for the shawls, and with her
Nero, Mr. Oartwright's retriever, which,
when he saw I was alone, set up a howl
for his master. I patted him, and tried
to comfort him, feeling rebuked by his
grief, as he followed me, whining, into
the house. Every rgom seemed empty,
and each spoke of the absent master; at
last I wandered into his study, where he
spentiis mornings, and liked me to sit
and work; and now I remembered how
often I had excused myself, saying I
preferred the drawing-room, and this
reflection did not add to my happiness.
There was a photograph of me standing on his writing-table, and another on
the chimaey-piece; on the walls hung
two or three of my drawings, which he
had begged of me when we were engaged ; indeed the room was full of little
remembrances of me; I opened a book
I had given him, and in it was his name
in my handwriting, and underneath in
his own, ""From my darling wife." I
laid it down with a sigh, as I thought
how carefully he treasured everything I
had eyer given him, and how little care
I took of all his gifts to me.
Everything I attempted, everything I
looked at, reminded me of his goodness
to me, and of my coldness and ingratitude to him. At last I went to bed,
after working myself into a fever of
anxiety lest he should not have reached
•"•he end of his journey in safety. I at
length cried myself to sleep.'
The next iaorning I went down to
breakfast with a heavy heart, foz I knew
1 could not hear from, him till the next
■ j it seemed so strange to breaMasfc
LJU.6 JLJLUUAW _VS TJU-lgi
coldly, and now I was seized with a
jealous anger against her. I mentally
accused her of estranging my husband
from me, and of, j trying to win his * iov^;
from me, 6S thdugh his heart was* hot
large enough for both of us. When
Maud arrived in the afternoon, I treated
her to along tirade of abuse against
mothers-in-law in general, and my own
in particular, and I vented all the anger
I really felt against myself on the innocent Mrs. Oartwright.
"Why, Nelly," said Maud, "Ithought
you Iked l&s...£S^'!iwi%htiso-mu:ch, and
though*!? h$Y*WJ*'Mfe~m&l~-ybtf._6ven
wanted het to live with you, only your
husbaa^ery'properly, *asmam_s'sily*^'
oTJgecteSi*?'- 7 . -.<..-] ;:■*:..''7..-.,..7..
not know that she would ever entice my
husband away from me in this way, or,
of course, I should never have liked
her."
"Beally, Neil, you are very hard on
the poor woman; for, as I understand,
Mr. Oartwright went to her of his own
free will, beeause she was not well, and
he thought his company would do her
good," said Maud.
"Nonsense; I am sure he would never
have left me alone unless she had put
him up to it," I replied, rather crossly.
"The truth is, Nelly, you are so
much in love with your husband that
you are jealous even of his mother, and
you are making yourself miserable
about nothing. Why, Mr. Oartwright
will be back in a fortnight, and I dare
say you will get a letter from him every
day ; so cheer up, and let us go for a
drive," said Maud.
i agreed to this plan, and, giving
Maud the reins, I lay back and thought
of her words. Was she right, after all ?
Was I jealous ? Was I really, as Maud
said, in love with my husband ? Had I
only found it oat now that I was deprived of his company ? Was this the
reason that I could do nothing but inwardly reproach myself for my
conduct to him? And the longer I
thought the more convinced 1 became
that Maud was right—that! was jealous,
and that I was in love, as she called it.
This knowledge did. not make me
happier, for I no. sooner knew I loved
him than I longed to tell him so," and
nrjke up, as far aa I could, for. ail my
former cruelty; for I could call my conduct by no milder word. I passed a
sleepless night, and, as I lay awake, I
composed various letters of confession,
which I resolved to send the following
day; but when morning came my pride
stepped in, and I began to feel it would
be impossible to write, and I settled that
I must wait till my husband came home,
and then tell him how his absence had
altered me.
I got up early and walked out to meet
the post-man, so anxious was I to get a
letter from him; it was the first I had
ever received from him since our marriage, and no girl was ever so anxious
for, or so pleased with, her first love-
letter, aa I was over this.
It was a leng letter, full of loving
messages and terms of endearment, ail
of which cut me to the heart, for they
sounded like so many reproaches; in
reality I think there was a tone of gentle reproach throughout the letter. He
gave me an account of his journey, and
of his mother's health, begged me to
write to him" a few lines every day; but
he said not a word about returning.
I spent the morning in answering it,
much to Maud's amusement, who, of
course, thought I was pouring out volumes of. love and complaints of my temporary widowhood; after tearing up
about a dozen sheets of paper, I afc last
sent a short note, cool and with no allusions to my misery. The more I tried
the more impossible I found it to write
any expression of love or penitence,
thought! was hungering to do so.
_*or a whole week I went on in this
way, suffering more acutely every day,
and every day receiving long, loving
letters from Mr. Oarfcwright, and writing
shorfc,-£Qld answers.- r
1 lost my appetite ; I could not sleep
at night, and the torture I was enduring
made me look so ill that Maud became
frightened, and declared she would write
and summon my husbandhoxne, and tell
him I was pining away for him. I forbade her doing this, so sternly that she
dared, not disobey me, foE I was deter-
i mined he should never hear from any
lips but mine that at last his heart's desire was attained, for I loved him.
At last, when he had been away ten
days, I could bear it no longer, for I
felt I should have brain fever if I went
on in this way, so I determined to go to
Melton, where Mrs. Oartwright lived,
and see my husband. I came to this
decision one night, and went into Maud's
room early in the morning, to tell her
my intention. I expected Bhe would
laugh at me, but I think she guessed
something was wrong, for she seemed
glad to hear it, and helped me to pack a
few things and set off in time to catch
the morning tram.
Ifc was three hours' -journey; they
seemed three years to me, for the nearer
I got to my husband the more impatient
I was to see him. At last we got to
Melton—a largish town. Of course, as
I was not expected, there was no one to
meet me, so I took a fly to Mrs. Oartwright's house, where I arrived about 8
o'clock.
I learned afterwards that Andrew was
with his mother in the little diawing-
room when I drove up, but, thinking I
was only a visitor, he escaped into another room, so I found my mother-in-
law alone.
By her side were some of my husbarid's
socks which she was darmng—socks
which I had handed over to fche servants
to mend, and which I now longed to
snatch away from his mother. His desk
stood open, a letter to me, which he was
writing, lying on it.
The servant announced me as Mrs.
Andrews, my voice failing as I gave my
name, so that Mrs. Oarfcwright held up
her hands in astonishment when she saw
who ifc was.
"My dear! Nelly! Has anything
happened? How ill you look! What
is it?" she exclaimed.
"I want my husband," I gasped, sinking on to a chair, for I thought I should
have fallen. Without another word
Mrs. Oartwright left the room; I feel
sure now she guessed all about it, and I
can never thank her enough for forbearing to worry me with questions as to
what I had come for.
She came back in a few moments with
a glass of wine, which she made me
drink off, saying she would send him to
me at once if I took ifc. I complied, and
she went to fetch him; in another minute I heard his step outside the door, and
then he came in.
"Nellyi:my laver-rBay darling! what
is it ?*^=h©£'cried, 'as I rushed into his
outstretched arms, and hid my face on
his breast, sobbing bitterly. Eor some
moments I could not speak; at last I recovered myself enough to sob out:
".Oh, Andrew, my love! my" deaf
love! can you ever forgive ine ? I came
lb ask you, and to tell you I can't live
without you." I would have sfeid more, ,_ ^ . , Y
when at length he let me " '
"Wliy They "Resist tlie A"UBt*_3. Occapafion
The resistance to the Austrians in
Bosnia, says the-OhicagQ Inter Ocsan,^
seems, at first glance^ shoi-rsighted stiid
senseless. The g^eat powei^ and Turkey
agreed that Austria should occupy
Bosnia and superintend th'"*- reconstruction of the local govei _me*bt. The Austrian commanders issued proclamations
announcing that they evise as friends,
and that the rights of the people would
be respected and their irjtere^ts cared
for. And yet, no sooner^did the Austrian troops cross the fronf-er than they
encountered an opposition as fierce and
stubborn as that which the"'Russians encountered when they crowed the Danube. Mohammedans who Jliad been afc
swords' points with OhriB.fMjs, and who
had been bushwhacking i^assians, and
Christians who had been "assisting the
Kussians and bushwhacking the Turks,
forgot their differences n ,d- joined in
fighting the Austiians. iVikisir regulars deserted by the bafctalrin, and,Russian regulars by the acoih> aad joined
the insurgents. Servia 1**.itioned an
army on her frontier'to kee^p her people
from joining in the con-Sic**- £nd Austria
was compelled to send to""?*"";" rear -hundreds of her soldiers whf' would not
fight. - -iU
The circumstances snrrtnnding this
odd mixture of elements h^tHe to Aus-:
tria give a hint as to the c .uses of the
trouble. ITirst should be -Cv.* isidered the
Pan Slavic agitation, N<V*ily all the
people in Bosnia and Herzegovina are
Southern Slavs, or are- oi ihe Servian
branch of the Slavic' ract1 The language is a dialect of the SeS'vian, and all
the sympathies of rfhe jpecole are with
the Servians. -1 -' ~-
This branch of the Slavic j.ace includes
the Servians, Bosnians, Her jegovinians,
Montenegrins, Slavonian/^jDalmatians
and Croats. The allied"* or -kindred
branches are the Bussians i, „ the Bulgarians. In their scheme _r the union
of all- the- Slavic-races in 0;*e great nation, the leaders of the Pan; Slavic movement have aimed to have £1 is group actj
in harmony. __*!sitt he' sneburaged'
the movement when it tent- _ to extend
her influence. Many.of th*- -Servian and
Bulgarian Pan Slaviits ha% - openly favored a union under -the Oa
"ohi" Most of what
the world, in books
On' the
other h*%*d^7A.*asMa:>7;i^vi g a .large
d the agitar
ad her in-
Slavic pop*uIatiotS,1|j^s favor0
tfeST when it.leadetl; %i #•&£
fluence, ai^-4mMtfesly o„
it. wsf.s ur^J^'lEussian-dircef
her uneiasinefes afcout xeees,.
Servia, Herzegovina and !>
her eagerness to occupy <r*r
the policy oE the "two pgoVit'.
When the Herzegovinis"
J&. Hence
i* •"•ablesih
flitmk, Tand
l v.0* shape
belled
take a daily paper. But, despite all
that can be said, to the contrary, the
genus rusticus, which has by some one
fee$n rendered into English and made to
mean " rusty cuss," sfcill, largely asserts
Itseif in our rural regions—a genus of,
the copperas breeches, ginger- cftke-IoV-
ing ilk, to whom we owe the racy, soil-
flavored smack of original humor, peculiar fco.the Ohio and Mississippi river
valleys. Farm life in the West seems to
hav6 developed broad, cob—co-humorous
ways of speech, and it cannot be denied
that much of this humor, coarse though
it is, possesses the inimitable charm of
outright home manufacture. Through
certain of our local Western journals
the world has of late caught very distinct glimpses of it. But I am sure that
the best Western humor has never yet
been reduced to type. It is scattered
about in rural neighborhoods, and niost
of it is finally lost by being carelessly
thrown aside as
has been given to
and monthly magazines, as Western humor, has been first put through a refining process of double doctoring, by
which Something more than a mere
modicum of the home flavor has been
allowed to exhale. It may be enuhn
|eiatedasa rule that the more ignorant
class of Western farmers' discovers a far
quicker and finer sense of humor than
does the somewhat ^educated and refined
class. So soon as a smattering of books
and newspapers £*ets into a clod, the
sharp salt of the earth seems to go out,
and there cpm.es self-consciousness and
a straining after unnatural effects.—
Maurice Thompson, in Scribner for
September.
A Komauce of the Bor*iero
There passed down on the train the
other day an aged but smart-looking
lady, between 60 and 70 years of age,
having with her a little child about 2
years old, whose dark complexion-unmistakably betokened Indian origin and
naturally excited some curiosity. The
lady was communicative and told a story
filled with romance. She was a widow,
with an only son livhig in Connecticut.-
Her boy grew to be a young man, and,
filled with a love of adventure, he forsook the parental roof and came West.
His rovings afc last led him to Bismarck,
~D, T., where he became interested with
Indian traders, and finally married the
"ST&flL'EY.
daughter of a chief,
union being one child,
the" fruit of the
At length, in an
2ft 30di|when j* engagement with the hostiles, the young
go tliere were
other tears upon my cheek besides my
own.
That was the happiest moment of my
life, in spite of my tears; and, before
my mother-in-law again joined us, which
she discreetly avoided doing till dinnertime, I had poured out all I had to tell
into my husband's ears; and I had
learned from him that he had left me to
try what effect his absence would have
on me; for he had felt for some time
that my pride was the great barrier he
had to overcome to win my love.
He had judged right. He was too
generous to tell me how much he had
suffered from my indifference, but I
know it must have grieved him terribly.
He is a different man now, he looks so
happy, and I know he would not change
places with any one on earth. We went
back to the rectory the next day. but we
could not persuade Mrs. Oartwright to
come with us; she said we were best
alone, and I think she was right.
FACTS A»I> FieUKESo
Ii? the globe were covered with a layer
of ice 10-1 feet thick, the heat of the
sun's rays for a year would melt it.
Between 1869 and 1875 the popula-.
tion of Yienna increased from about
800,000 to 1,000,000.
Dubtng the year 1877, 1,175 persons
were killed and 3,705 injured by railroad
accidents in Great Britain.
The property of Princeton Theological
Seminary amounts to $1,066,793.10.
The re?l estate is valued at $244,000.
Ix is computed that the grain used for
liquors in* a year in the United States
reaches 70,000,000 bushels, which would
make 1,Of 0,000,000 four-pound loaves of
bread. Great Britain uses 80,000,000
bushels of grain yearly for the same purpose, and annually imports food to the
value of nearly $400,000,000.
Buddhism is the religion of nearly
500,000,000 inhabitants of Asia. In
Ceylon it has 1,500,000 followers; in
Burmah, 5,500,000; in Siam, 10,000,000;
in Annam, 12,000,000; in Oorea, 8,000,-
000; in Thibet, 6,000,000; in Japan,
33,000,000; in Mongolia, 2,000,000; in
Manchuria, 3,000,000; while the whole
of the immense population of China,
amounting to over 400,000,000, and numerous scattered Asiatic tribes acknowledge its claims.
Statistics show that for the present
year the value of the gold and silver produced in California is $21,000,000, while
the agricultural produce of the same
State exceeds $91.500,000. As compared
with mining, agriculture stands nearly
five to one in values produced. The
wheat crop of California for a single year
is valued at $36,520,560; barley at $10,-
000,000; other cereals, $4,500,000; products of the vineyards, $5,500,000; wool,
$7,500,000; fruit, $3,500,000; livestock,
sold and slaughtered, $17,500,000; dairy
produce, $4,500,000.
The people of Moscow declare that
their great bell shall never be pulled
down from its ghttering steeples where
it reigns over all other church
bells in the world. Its weight is 443,772
pounds, while the other famous bells are
light in comparison: St. Paul's, London, 13,000 pounds;, Antwerp, 16,000;
Oxford, 17,000; York, 24,000; Montreal,
23,000; Pvome,- 19,000; Bruges, 23,000;
Cologne, 25,000; Erfurt, 30,000; English Houses of Parliament, 31,000;
Vienna, 40,000; Novgorod, 69,000;
Pekin, 136,000; Sens, 34,000; Moscow
(its second), 141,000. The great bell of
Moscow is 19 feet high and 64 feet
round; its noise is tremendous.
gents. Bussian soldiers -went without
authority from the Bussian army to the
Servian army, but Bussia did not go far
enough in the support and encouragement of Servia to arouse the hostility of
Austria. But when she declared war
against the Turk, the Boumanians,
Servians, Montenegrins, Bulgarians
and all went into battle at her bidding.
In other words, the nationalities making
up one great group pf the Slavic family
made common cause. In deference to
Austria, Bosnia was kept out of the
struggle.
In the treaty of San Stefano Bussia
aimed to unite the Bulgarian branch of
the family in one kingdom. England
and Austria insisted on a modification
which divided the Bulgarians into two
states, and Bussia agreed to this the
more readily because the Servian branch
of the family opposed the extension of
Bulgaria, and there was a chance for a
family row. In the treaty of Berlin,
Servia, Montenegro and Bulgaria received fair treatment, while Bosnia,
which had been scarcely mentioned in
the treaty of San Stefano, was virtually
ceded to Austria. This aroused the indignation of the Servian Pan Slavists,
and they went to work to organize resistance. This was not difficult, as the
Bosnians are naturally an irritable and
vindictive people, and the destruction
of then* hopes of a union in the future
was good cause for irritation. They
argued that it would be better to remain
Turkish until the empire finally went to
pieces than to become Austrian.
That Bussia secretly opposes the cession to Austria cannot be doubted, and
that she has encouraged the Turks to
resist is possible. If it should appear
that the Turkish Government is encouraging the insurgents, war between Austria and Turkey will ensue. Bussia
having done her share of the fighting,
will, in such an event, stand off and
see Austria strike heavy blows at the
Ottoman empire, and complete its destruction.
On this theory is explained the "general opposition to Austria.
Culture aad fflumor in Western "Farea
JLife„
Quite often, in the course of my rambles, I have found Western farm-houses
furnished in exquisite taste from library
to kitchen. Ohairs, tables, carpets, curtains and pictures, in many of our country homes, have been chosen with a correctness of judgment rarely evinced by a
large class of most excellent* city folk.
In the matter of books, a farmer of the
JDetfcer class generally selects with great
care and with a view to solid mental food.
But a taste for light fiction, poetry, music
and painting is nofc wanting. It is surprising, indeed, to find how generally
the works of the leading British and
American poets and novelists are read
among the rural classes of the West. The
younger American poets are as well
known, by their writings, West as East.
Even Hawthorne, whom to read and appreciate is high evidence of literary
taste and intelligence, has found very
many of his sincerest admirers inside
the homes of the "Hoosier" and the
"Buckeye." Not long since, while sojourning for afortnight or so on the shore
of one of our Western lakes, I had the
pleasure of spending several evenings at
a farm-house where, as a member of the
family for the time, I was allowed to
hear one of George Eliot's novels
read aloud by the farmer's daughter.
Everywhere in the West the leading
literary journals, both weekly and
monthly, are subscribed for
are subscribed tor by the
farmers, for the pleasure tmd instruction . ,
of fchejy families, while many of them 1 and father, and a respected citizen*
.iUan was killed. The sad news in due
timeli'eiiched his mother. She was almost disconsolate in her grief. With
ti*ue-maternal affection she at once resolved te. search for her son's child,
and, if possible, find in it an object
upon which she might bestow her care
■"iel mo&eriy love. Forthwith she
i?f«5'"?**S*a^^
ties in the way formed no Darner to her
New^ England energy. Her diligent inquiries along the Northern Pacific rai^
road brought to her acquaintance a man
who had known her son. _or $50 he
offered to find the squaw who had been
the son's wife. Without going into details of the search it is sufficient to say
that the tribe of Indians was found, and
with it the squaw and the child. When
the lady first saw her grandchild she
thought Bhe could discern in his features
a resemblance to her son, but when the
little one was in the midst of a number
of Indian children ifc was hard to discover much difference. Nevertheless,
the grandmother of the dus&y little
half-breed was bent on having him
brought up under the gentle influences
of Connecticut civilization, and she qui
eted her compunctions cf bartering in
human flesh by the exigencies of the
ease and the gift of six sacks of flour to
the bereaved Indian widow. The old
lady departed with her new-found treasure, as happy as a boy with a new toy.
She fondled the little Sioux with indescribable affection, and the lifctle chap J
responded by making his doting grandma buy him all the peaches and pears
that the tfain-boy offered. The picture
of youth and old age seldom has more
romance done up in a couple than was
here presented. It will not be surprising one of these days to hear of that
cultivated little savage pulling with the
Harvard crew.— Winona {Minn.) Bepubliean.
Woman's Bevotioiio
The following story, says an exchange,
is true in every detail: A milliner of
respectability married a dissipated tailor,
who abused, neglected and abandoned
her. Several years having passed without a clew to his whereabouts, her
Mends advised divorce and her acceptance of an advantageous offer in marriage. The woman persistently declined
every offer, and, when she had accumulated a sufficient sum, started off in the
direction her husband was supposed to
have taken when he left her. At Halifax, Nova Scotia, she received a slight
clew, and took the steamer to Portland,
Me. Thence she followed his track
to New York, where she ceased, for
many months, to hear of him. Finally
she found that he was working in Albany, for wliieh place she immediately
started. She was about a week too late;
he had been discharged for drunkenness. Spending her day? at lucrative
work and her evenings at detective service, the unwearying wife at length discovered that he was employed by a large
firm in Chicago. She wrote there, and
was answered that her husband had
gone away, nobody knew where. Not
satisfied with this, she traveled to Chicago and ransacked every concern interested in the tailoring business there,
until Bhe met a fellow countryman, who
said that her husband, when last heard
from, was io Omaha city. She wrote
there, got no answer, but went on. There
she heard that he had certainly left for
San Francisco, where he had obtained a
fine place as cutter in a large firm. She,
of course, went thither, only to be told
that her husband had been several days
away from work, and was drinking hard.
He had not been even to his boarding-
house. This led her to visit the station-
houses, and in one of them she ascertained that her husband was in jail for
ten days. He was released arid prevailed
upon to return home after six years' absence. Ali ttiis occurred eighteen years
ago, and to-day the prodigal husband of
yore is a strict temperance man in inde-
} pendent circumstances, a model husband
The Latest Story ConcerniEg His Birth,
and Boyihooa.
The obscurity surrounding the birth
fand parentage of Henry M. Stanley is
cleared away by a publication in Every
Saturday, a literary journal published
in Baltimore. The statement, it says, is
on the very best evidence, that of Lis
own-mother. The letter is dated High
Park street, Sefton Square, Liverpool,
Aug, 13, and from it it is learnedthatthe
explorer, whose right name is Henry M-
Eastaway, was born in New York on the
26th of October, 1843, and was christened
by the Bev. Father Smith, at the James
•Street Boman Catholic Church. Hip
mother was born in Ireland, but for some
time resided in Baltimore. His father
was a sea Captain, and, when the child
was still very young, the family went
back to Europe. During a voyage in
1858 the father died, and the boy, .soon
after, while sojourning at his aunt's
farm afc Olay Castle, had some words
wifch his mother, and, in a fit of anger,
she said to him: "Weuld to God you
were somewhere from me," to which he
replied: "Never mind,"mother; as soon
as I can get a ship I will take care that-I
Ish .11 not come back. Should I get to
America I can claina it as my Mrth-
place." The boy was as good" as his
word, and in the same year (1858) he
sailed from Queensfcown in a bark called
the Jacob Eillerd, and a few lines
for his mother from Lime Bock.asking
for her prayers, and acknowledging
the filial love he had for her,
were the last she has ever heardfrom
him. Nor did she ever lay eyes on him
again until the day of Livingstone's
funeral at Westminster Abbey. In company with a friend, Capt. JUamont, she
recognized him among the six'pall-bearers, and "the Captain, to satisfy her,
asked some one standing by who the
person was, and the reply came, "Why,
that is Henry M. Stanley, the man who
discovered Livingstone." " I see by
what you say that the people in Liverpool will not allow Mr. Stanley to be
your lost son, but I think if they were
present at the interview we had with
him at Mr. Livingstone's funeral they
would be of a different; opinion." The
poor woman sought her ungrateful son
at the Langham Hotel, in London, and
was shown into the parlor. Mrs. Eastaway describes-the scene in the following
words: "He put out his hand to me,
and, said I, ' Are you not a nice son ?'
'Well,' he answered, 'I fancy there
must be some mistake here.' -Then,'
said I, 'You can rectify it?' 'Well,'
he answered, ' any money you want you
can have.' 'Why,' said I, 'do you
offer me money if I am not your mother ?
Did I not write to you and Mr. James
Gordon Bennett, saying that I needed
-no^aid.- pnly:- to_je\Jsye mv^ distracted f
Tffi&dT'''-"'"jarBr^ilaBtav'^Tiua* a v.^m.®Vc£
ble home and two sons to depend oh.
One of them is second officer of the
steamship La Place, now bound from
Bio de Janeiro to New York, and the
other one is an explorer in Australia.
Three coffins awalt_eir final r'epdse
In the ancient cloipter's. Seeping,
And a brief hour hence the-Ms will doss - ■>
On the f ormB beneath them sleeping.
The first is a King who hath ruled the land,
As hl-s fathers did before him;
A jeweled scepter is placed in His hand,
To show how well he bore him.
The next is a chief from the J>attle-field,
Wounded and bronzed and hoary;
By his side are resting his sword and shield,.
The emblems of martial glory. '• ', -... '
The third is a lowjy son of song,
With no state pomp attended;
The lay of his lyre hath sounded long
Through the aisleB-^but now is ended.
Harl*:! what is that at the postern gate
Iiifce the roar of distant water ?
iTis the foe, with bounding hopes elate,
Eeturned to the wori of slaughter 1
[Ho! King, awake I reascend thy throne,
And 'round thee summon thy sages 1"
iTrom the pale, mute lips there is answer none
While the storo ■without b_1 rages.
Ho! chief, awafce I to the tents repair—
« In the van lead-on thy legions-!" - .
They listen, but all is silent there,
Still and hushed as the Polar regions,
.From the poet's coffin a sigh is heard,
And the lyre atJhis bare feet laying
Starts into life, like the trill of a "bird
Whose melody knows-no staying, ™.„
Tis an old, old theme, but it, fires the blood
Of the troops with none to'lead 'em,
And they fight, astheTaliantalways'shouldj
_or the lov^s of their faith and freedom I
When the sun goes down in a radiant glow,
With molten clouds attendant,
The three'nailed coffias are now latd loW"—
The cross is in the ascendant! ■■■•*■'
PITH AUD JPOISTo
History of Earrings..
That nofching-new-under-the-sun principle applies to the custom of wearing
pendants from the lower part of fche ears
as well as to many other things. It appears to have taken its rise in the earliest times among the nations of the East.
The prophet Isaiah reproaches the
daughters of Zionwith being too lavish
in ornaments of this kind, and several
parts of the scripture make allusion to
the spoil of earrings, etc., which was
dedicated to the Lord. This trinket of
rings and jewels appears to have been
as much worn by men in those days as
by the same sex that now lays almost
undisputed claim to them. It would
seem that the ornaments had been used
for idolatrous purposes previous to this
time, since Jacob, in the injunction he
gave to his household, commanded them
to put away "the strange gods which
were in their hand, and all the earrings
which were in their ears." These earrings or jewels, worn by Jacob's household, had probably been consecrated to
superstitious purposes, and worn as &
sort of amulet, for it is known that
rings, whether in the ear or noBe, were
first superstitiously worn in honor of
false gods, and probably of the sun,
whose circular form they were designed
to represent, and, indeed, rings and vessels among the heathen nations oftentimes had the image of the sun, moon,
etc., engraven upon them. The prophet
Hosea speaks of the women of Jerusalem as indulging in the lying vanities of
rings devoted to the idol deities. The
Boman ladies cf olden times used ear-
rings of pearls and of precious sfcones,
and not infrequently, like some of the
North American Indians, they had three
or four of these ornaments pendant to
each ear, whicTi, unlike the Indian
trinkets Gf the present day at least, were
of immense value. The Moors of Africa
were also noted iox the use of the same
ornaments. Many of the busts o" the
heathen gods have been found to have
earrings, or holes pierced in their ears
for that purpose. Some investigators of
antiquity have considered this to be
characteristic of the busts of divinities,
but tliis opinion does not ajipear to be
well founded, as there are many well-
known statues of mortals which have the
ears pierced. The. fine bust of Oara-
calla, in the Villa Borghess, which is
affixed to the statue of Hercules, has
only the right ear pierced.
A Mother's Influence.
The late Thomas H. Benton, who was
so long in public life and surrounded by
temptations, paid the following tribute
to his mother:
" My mother asked me. never to use
any tobacco, and I never touched ifc from
that time to the present day; she asked
me nofc to game, and I have not, and I
cannot tell who is wintiing or who is losing in games that can be played. She
admonished me, too, against* hard drinking, and whatever capacity for endurance I may_ have at present, and whatever usefulness I may attain in life, I attribute it to having complied with her
\ pious and correct wishes. When I was
7 years of age she asked me not to drink,
and then I. made a resolution of total
abstinence, at a time when I was sole
constituent member of my own body,
and that I have adhered to it through a„ j
I the time I owe to my mother."
A oontempokaeVj referring to a contemporary, says: "A word to the wise
will nofc reach him." - ••?•••
Said an Irishman, in the course o_ aa'
eloquent speech,3' ";Mr. -Ohairnian,*t_e
gals is the boys to doit." - '.'l •
Befoke the " o'" let there appear "
Twice twenty-five, and five in rear;
One-fifth of tight subjoin, and then : -:
You'll find what 'tis that con'iners.-men.T-r'Lpve.-
A BinQEBTBiiD man has invented- a-
chair which can be adjusted to 8,000
different; positions. It is designed for a
boy to sit in when having his hair cufc.^-
Danbufy News. . "
Anii hair-pins look alike to men, bul
let a wife go off on a visit for a month,
and come home and find a hair-pin near
the door, and she can't wait a minute to
grow red in the face.
A dkeamv. writer says' it "would be
curious to follow a pound of silk from
its spinning until it beco_.es a lady's
.dress. No doubt; but most men prefer
to follow it after ifc becomes a dress.—
San Francisco Chronicle.
Theke is probably nofc a woman in all
this broad, sunny land of ours who
doesn't think that the carving-fork was
made for the express purpoge of pulling
corks out of bluing bottles* and lifting
stove-lids.—St, Louis Journal.
Old party (who has sent for the "landlord): " Landlord, I can't get anything
to eat. "Your pretty waiter girls- devote
their time to the good-looking young
fellows. Haven't you' got a homely old.
waiter who has lost her taste for beauty'?"
A Stock^Exch—NGB bear is described
as a person who sells what he has not-
got; a bull as a man who buys what he
cannot pay for; and "financing'* as
"buying shares by a man whadoesn't
want them from one wha has none to
sell"
What a volume of domestic misery
these two little lines contain: "Sis
million bottles of hair restorative were
sold in the "United States last yeas.*"
But "as long as the birds make nests we
suppose-people wii! love aa'd take tho
There are two broSieirs oll '*w6i'j 1321
who look so much alike that they cannot
fcell each other apart; and one day last
week, when John was raging like a volcano with the toothache, Henry went
down to Dr. Wilson and had six teeth
pulled.—Burdette, .
The next invention Edison is toa,t«.'
tempt is a maehine that will keep a
woman's eyes closed during prayer time
in church when a friend in the pew in
front has on a new frock.
Among air the" abuses which Cassius
inflicted on his whilom friend Brutus, he
did not threaten to set his dog on him.
For did not Brutus say, "There is no
terrier, Cassius, in your threats?". .
A woman, being told that some tables
in the Bussian department of the French
Exhibition were made of malachite, exclaimed: "My goodness! I thought
Malachite was one -of the" prophets."
A Michigan man by feeding a tramp
accidentally found a long-lost brother of
his wife. This should be taken as a terrible warning against something or other,
because he has had to keep on feeding
him ever since.
Said that rather cynical journalist A
to his " dear fiiend'? B, "You look as if
you had been out all night, and had to
-meet your wife at breakfast.-" Said B,
mildly, in reply: "You look as if you
had stopped at home all night studying -
your own character."
: A "phisonee Was arraigned to plead to
an indictment for burglary. He said he ,
wasn't ready to plead, and didn't care to
plead either way, adding: "I'll tell
you, Judge, just how the matter hangs;
if I don't get bail to-morrow morning,
I'm going to plead guilty, and if I do i
ain't. See?"
A ohtld was called as a witness in a
Charleston court. The opposing lawyer
asked her if she knew where liars went
when they died, and objected to her testimony wher she answered no. " Well,
that .question hap not been settled by
anybody satisfactorily," said the Judge.
An M. D. who lately opened an office
was favored by a visit from his young
wife. Wishing to start an interesting
subject for conversation, he said: "My
dear, how many people do you suppose
pass by my office in the coarse of an
hour ?" "I should judge theyall passed
by," nonchalantly exclaimed the wife.
A Colt's liescTae of a Mate,.
Martin Hayner, of Brunsmck, is the
proud possessor of a fine pair of colts.
One day last week: they were pasturing
on his farm, through which a ditch had
recently been dug, quite a distance from
the house. One of the animals fell into
the ditch, in s^ihe way striking upon its
back, wifch its feet pawing helplessly in
tho air, and utterly unable to regain its
equilibrium. The other: cole, discovering the predicament of its iaate, began
running from the house to the ditch,
making more than half a dozen trips- before Mr. Hayner's attention-was specially
attracted. He finally entered the _in-
closure where his colt was neighing,
when it seized hold of his coat and
pulled in the' direction of its mate. Mr.
Hayner found his other colt in the position named, and with difficulty rescued
it. Such, intelligence; is certainly re*
markablej and worthy of the recognition'
we have accorded' 'it.—Troy (A**, F.)
Times. _ ____*
The assessable property in San _*»E--
cisco has, according to the Auditor's import, declined %11,000,000 ia value mia«.
in a year.
9
■ .V_ ..IJTtS.-liialti"
$m&iamxES&GSim:z-
Object Description
| Title | 1878-09-20; Clare County Press |
| Date | 1878-09-20 |
| Publisher | Goodenough & Wilson |
| Description | Friday, September 20, 1878 issue of a Clare, Michigan newspaper. Published weekly. Began publication date unknown. In 1886, the title was changed to The Clare Press |
| Subject/Keywords | Clare (Mich.) - Newspapers; Clare County (Mich.) - Newspapers; |
| Copyright Permission | This material is in the public domain. |
| Type | Newspaper |
| Format | JPG/JPEG |
| Language | English |
Description
| Title | 1878-09-20; Clare County Press |
| Date | 1878-09-20 |
| Publisher | Goodenough & Wilson |
| Description | Friday, September 20, 1878 issue of a Clare, Michigan newspaper. Published weekly. Began publication date unknown. In 1886, the title was changed to The Clare Press |
| Subject/Keywords | Clare (Mich.) - Newspapers; Clare County (Mich.) - Newspapers; |
| Copyright Permission | This material is in the public domain. |
| Type | Newspaper |
| Format | JPG/JPEG |
| Language | English |
| Transcript |
t ^--im^iSw ^l£l§£iZ£$g£& —«. t^w! "3/= ir •Wlffig-gigg ."WAgiSTFIiMTiTXTOK. Ton, "Wilytma, Come 'ere, sir, iernegiate! Want dat you got -under dat *box ? T-v&sSsi'm dj*c'a_tiSniioin? nowf-'Whut you* Bay f5_? iia.'l'atiffiii-bTitroe-JSf Seems to ma yon is nioughtiy partic_e—prehaps dey is of a ns-?? breed— 111 jis t&Q aleak. Hi! ef dat aint de cur**owBest seek I ever seed. I calls (tat a plain -waten-alllion, you scamp! an' 1 snows whar it growed— Itcoisied£'omd9,-fi**QiQ,ersofi cornfield, jis ont *■ 'der Bide 0'a? Tea?}.- Tea stole it, you raB_l! yau stole it I Twatche" font down in de lot; ^a*tinse I gits ih'ough -wid you, nigger, you -wo • eben ba e! ftrease'spot! PlJ.'fis you! Abe "Lincoln! Abe Lincoln ! go c me a hick'ry! be quick! An* out me de toughest, too, sir, you kin find dis side o'de crick! -jfil Isrn you, you Wilyum Ike Petius, to steal an' lief you young sinner, ©isgracin" yo' ole Christian mammy, andmakin' ber leave cooiin' dinner! "STow, ain't you ashamed o' yo'se'f, sir ? I am 1 I'm ashamed you's my son! > An* So good, old Eecorderer Angel, he's ashamed, sir, o' -what you has done; An' he-'awrotedit down up yonder, in burnin' an' great big letters, " 0ns w^erinMon, stoled by Wilyum Isaac Fet- t tup" _ ,,;-, An' "what do you .sTpose Brudder Bascom,,. yo' teacher at Sunday-school, Would say, ef he knowed hew awful {ja's gres- sioned the Golden Bute? .' Boy 1 whar Is de raisin* I gi'ert you? Is you houn' fur to be a blaefcyiBun ? I _. apprised daf sVcS-teof". yd1 mammy would steal any man's -watermillion 1 AuTni'gffine nowttt cut it right open, an' you, sir, shan't have-narry .bite I . ITur a boy who wiO. steal wktermillions—an' right in open daylight— Ain'fc-*-»7^rtw(J2«X i£s gbeeh! Abe Lincoln! -Abe r ., Ii-i-n-c-o»l-n! make 'ase' wi' dat switch! Well!—%teab'n' a g-r-e-e-n wa-t3r-mil-lion! who -] OTet |
