1882-07-13; Saline Observer

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s-*-s*aw.
oALINR
Observer.
i -
NISSLY & EMMERT, Publishers.
SALINE, WASHTENAW COUNTY, MICHIGAN, THURSDAY, JULY 13, 1882.
VOL. II. NO. 35.
BUSINESS DIRECTORY.
PKOEESSIOSTAIi.
q W. CHANDLER, M. D.,
Physician and Surgeon.
All callapromptly attended to.   Office at residence, first door north of M. E. Churoh.
IS,
0,
0. JENKXNS,
Surgical and Mechanical
DENTIST.
Office, 19 South Main Street, opposite "First
National Bank,
AnnArfaor,   -  -Maori.
D.
P.McLACHXAN,
or.
ry!
~hieli
se of
Idura-
pason,
"•dged
5S
Physician and Surgeon,
Office and residence opposite M. E. Church,
Adrian street, Saline, Mich.
THA JONES & SOK,
Attorneys.
All kinds of legal papers neatly and correctly
drain-. Collections made and promptly remitted. Ofiice on Mc Kay street, Saline, Mich.
E.J0-"es. E*lAi*KE.JOI-ES.
WILB. GILDAKT,
Attorney at Law,
And J ustiee of the Peace.   Office overNichols
Bro's. store, Chicago street, Saline, Michigan.
w
mar-
pi do
TE.
*E. HTJMPHilEX,
Real Estate Agent.
Government Lands located. 20,000 acres of
choice -wheat lands for sale. Correspondence
solicited.  Ellsbury, Barnes Co., D. T.
*8HSCEIiLAlSfEOTJS.
I¥lrs. W. F. LARZELERE,
The Old and Reliable
DRESSMAKER and CUTTER
Again offers her services to the ladies of
this vicinity.
and Satisfaction Guaranteed.     Shop at
"residence on Henry street, west.
SWISS A. SWIFT
"Would inform the people of Saline and vicinity
that she is now prepared to d > all kinds of
DHESS   MAKING,
Cattinsriuid Fitting.    Ait work guaranteed
to give satisfaction -   R >om on Main St.,
In residence of Mr'. Pj'1*> Fowler.
r
MRS. CHIF5VIAI-4 SI&3TH
has opened a
Millinery   Store !
Ov*er Nichols Brj's drug- store.
Where she will b*; in attsndtaso horse-lf, on
Tuesday of each week.
MRS. M..L. FORBES
Jiv'tos the ladies of Saline and vicinity to
I    call and examine her elegant new stock of
Sprlng&SummerMniineryGoods
Room.*- over Davenport & Son's 3 tort ■
GEO. R. SHERMAN,
The old and reliable
^X__ JL Wflgon and Carriage Maker.
.Job work and repairing promptly done at reasonable rates.   Shop on Chicago St., west.
mYBOfi WEBB,
JUSTICE  OF THE  PEACE,
And Insurance Agent.
COXVgYAA-CING ATTENDED TO VKOilVTLX.
Special Attention Given to Collections.
untw 2d door west of the postolfiee.
v't
pi.00
|mes for
as
:k
Notary
E»A. REYNOLDS,
Public, Real  Estate
■*D C<'MJE0TIOIS* AGBNCV.
THE LADY SHOPPER.
A. woman enters a dry goods store,
ac-E8.!-0 R»<ste? 'wno stanaa aetsr the door,
Asks him to show her the latest style,
q^cfJl8 PSr 8 0V*F the Sooas meanwhile.
She says: "I wast a dress for my niece:
nl WS p,!eaBe Bhow -1-8 tbat nQaer piece?
Oh, I didn't see 'twas a polka dot,
lhat's too near like the one she's got.
That piesewith the stripes would just suit me,
It'sjnst a3 pretty as it can be:
But shewantsa better covered ground,
With a sort of vine running all round:
She don't want too dark, nor yet too light,
Or a striped piece, nor yet very bright;
I think she'd like what you showed mo last,
But do you think the colors are f astV
Out off a bit before I decide,
I'll take'a piece home and have it tried:
I had a areEa like that last fall,
And the colors did not wash at all.
I like those patterns there on the end,
I'll take a few samples for a friend.
Now one of this, it you'll be so kind,
And a bit of that, if yon do not mind,
They're the nicest styles I've Been this year,
I most alwayp do my trading here.
I've got a piece that came from here,
I forget the price—'twas pretty dear,
It's a sort of dark alpaca stuff,
I want to match it, I've not enough.
Do you thinkyju have it in the store?
My dress is spoiled if £ can't get more.
"Will you put these samples in:tbe bill?
I'll know whore I got them if you will,
I'll take them home: if she thinks they'll do,
You'll see me back in a day or two."
WAY PETOY MAEKIED
SILAS.
HER  ACCOUNT
TO   A   SYMPATHIZING
FRTEND.
ir-.*UKAKCE
uasoe over N.C. Putnam &Co's. store, Milan,
.■rich-   All huMne-w entrusted to me will
receive prompt attention.
Fa/tx-oixiz-©     Tlie    Boys !
KAUSER & CLAKK,
Proprietors of
THE NEW LIVERY STABLE
•  At the—
OLD AMEEICAH H0TX3E BAEN.
M>
B. B1ENEMAMM,
; Dealer in the celebrated
Meriden Co.'s Silver Ware
And Watches, Clocks & Jewelry.
iTeadqaar*ersatKe3idence, on Henry
door east of Baptist church.
St., 2nd
latfon.
THOMAS ECCLES,
The Pioneer
BOOT AND SHOE MAKER,
Is now located in the Burg building, on
Chicago St., %vherehe will he glad to see all
fals old customers and many new ones.
Repairing Keatly and Promptly Done.
W. HELLER & SON.
Horse Shoeing &
(t!
TfvmrrhorseforKes, interfere* or is irregular
tahis«ait fAvgusacallandwe will regu-
111     l|te him -so &s will not anoy you.
Special Attention Given
To hordes havinj* weak and diseased feet.
SEbp OS ANN ARBOR STREET.
'S
B
I
rH
>-r*
IS
B
GEORGE   EHNIS,
Merchant Tailor and Cutter.
r have a fulUIne of samples of goods carried
Dvaleading eastern jobbing house, which I
will furnish my customers at        __,._,_
SSSSr ;Aflwfr^a?Sd. W over sV
caports & Son's store.          ^
"—*-      ' —— ^ ^  jBBBJUi.
" TlITON & ISBELL,
pboprIetoks os •rnE
Liverv, Sale and Feed Stables,
Wage-4HD dbay LINES,
„ -c „„* Rfreet. West Broadway,
0ffi.ec,  ^^0n*ITY D^KOTA'
T°^ W Se at* UyWfc leave
^r,^andKter:^butfltea^
Stages to
3ryTi
ways
everytta^jj^^^Siibteinlfflj,
OCHAIEEB, & SCHMIDT
°      Proprietors of tho Vnloa^
MEAT   MABB?Ea.
— AU kinds ot -
WSEAT,POULTHY,riSHETC
.. -' ".3-    jfljfeo'-*"'"'''
At Ir^TTOSt LiTiDg TTi6
ifl-ulne.'Miehi'fan,
$o. Z,-T7nton Block,
I used to be called an old maid. I
think old jBfancy Yincent was jealous,
or she neyer would have started out
all over the neighborhood on purpose
to tell folks that I was cut out for an
old maid. But thanks to my knowledge of human nature, I nave at last
got a good man, and IStance may storm
and whistle until her mouth is all out
of shape, for what I care, I married
Silas Harris one year ago, and I am
going to tell you all about it.
Xou see old Mrs Harris got took
down.sick, an' they had no one to do
the house-work, sich as bakin', washin',
ironin', an' sweepin'; so I, feelin' kinder tender hearted—I always was a tender hearted creeter—I went up there
an' told Mr. Harris that was Mrs.
Harris's son, that I would stay an' help
'em if they couldn't git anybody that
would suit 'em better.
■-^STancy Yincent has been here and
offered h6r services," said the old
lady.
«- Then she has been here, has she ? "
I was afraid after I had spoken that
they would notice how mad I was, but
they didn't; and I told em' plainly that
all Wance Yincent was after was a
husband—told 'em about her cookin',
what miserable bread she made, what
a figger she cut at the meetin' house,
with a-a-her bustle clean np to her
shoulders,—and told all about her try-
in' to catch Parson Smith's son, who is
only about 20, and she 51, an' I didn't
know but she might be 70.
""Well if she is such a creature we
don't want her here," said Mrs. Harris.
You'd better believe I was glad to
hear her say so. Mr. Harris had a good
farm, a nice house an' barn, and I had
no notion of lettin' old JSance come in
ahead of me, though I never did care
anything about the men sex, never; still
I didn't intend to have wool pulled
over my eyes. I always knew her to
be a pesky old gossip. I don't tell
stories about my neighbors, and I don't
gad all over town—unless there is something to gad about.
'She is all I've told you and more,
too," said T, and their Mr. Harris, which
is now- my husband, told me to come
and stay with his mother and he would
pay me.
"I don't ask no pay," said I. "She is
ray neighbor, and neighbors shouldhelp
each other in case of sickness."
"Well, come, if you can,' and I will
see that you don't lose anything by it."
Of course 1 went right up there;
what else could I do? Mrs. Harris
made me bake some riz bread the fust
thing, then I baked soinepies, and then,
as it was near supper time, I cooked
some nice slap-jacks, for I knew Silas
liked slap-jacks. Then I put a clean
white spread oa the table, placed some
of my riz bread on, together with some
of my best quince sauce, that I had
brought from home, fixed the slacp-
jacks, butt»r and tea in their places;
then I Mowed the horn to call Silas
to supper.
Pretty soon he came in, but who do
you think was with him? Why, nobody but old Nancy Yincent. I was
mad. She went rightup to Mrs. Harris
and, taking a paper parcel from under
her old yaller shawl, said "I thought
you'd need some cookin' done, bein' so
unwell like and not bein' able to work,
and I took the liberty to bring you
some chicken and cheese;" then she
laid vittles on the table and looked at
Silas, while her old mummy face wrinkled up into what she meant to be a
sweet smile, but it looked more like
dried bacon sixty years old.
'Thank you very much, but we've
got a good cook,' said Mrs. Harris.
-Is she the one?' and Nance pointed
at my face, while her squinting green
eyes fairly snapped sparks.
-I came with the intention of helping our sick neighbor until she can
help herself,' I answered.
-You did, did you? I don't see what
you are meddlin' around in—'
-She is not to blame. I told her to
come,' suddenly broke in Silas.
•Then I s'pose it's all right, if you
told her to come, but there's folks in
the world that knows more about sickness and nussin', I can tell you,' and
Nance flounced toward the door.
'Stay and take supper with us, won't
you?' asked Silas.
-I don't know but I will, seein' as
how your mother is so unwell.'
'That's right, Nancy; sit down and
be neighborly once in your life,' and I
placed a chair for her at the table. I
could see that Nance felt dreadful uneasy, though I felt all right, except
that I was kinder mad. Silas praised
my sauce and said my slapjacks were
the best he ever ate. And Mrs. Harris
said my bread couldn't be beat.
Nance neyer said a word, but she
was the spitefulestlookin' critter I ever
did see. I determined that I wouldn't
touch her old chicken and cheese, and
so she thought* she'd pass it round herself.
'Try some of my chicken, Mrs. Harris, you'll like it, I know you will.'
Mrs. Harris took, a small slice, but
only just tasl,ed of ifc.
'Have some cheese/ aud sho passed
the pfate, bub the sick lady only took a
small plfcce, gave a glance at it and
laid it on the table, with the remark
that she dare not eat cheese.
'You'll take a piece, Silas?'
'I don't care if T do,' said he.
She again passed her plate, and Silas
put out his hand and took up a piece,
but just as he was going to bite off a
chunk, a little shower of white skippers rattled off into his tea.
You'd better believe he didn't eat
much of that cheese. He got up, sudden like, and said his head ached. I
didn't see him again very soon. Mrs.
Harris said she felt sick at her stomach,
and left the room. Nance didn't know
what to make of it all. but she bustled
up and said I'd been a tellin' stories
about her, so that I could catch Silas
myself.
'You lie, you know ' you do, Nance
Vincent!' I didn't care if I did talk
plain, bein' as how Silas and Mis. Harris was out of the room.
'You lie yourself, you old cap-settin'
snipel'
Now, to be called a cap-settin' snipe
— to be called so by oldNance Yincent
—was more than I could stand; so I
went at her, 'hammer and tongs.'
'Nance Yincent,' said I — and you'd
better believe I felt mad—'do you think
you can come here, with your fly-blown
cheese, full of skippers, with your old
chicken, so tough that a—a dog
couldn't eat it, with the expectation of catchin' Silas Harris for a husband?'
'You may talk and talk,' said she
sniveling, 'but I can tell you one thing,'
and she looked vindictively at me, 'I
didn't come here to lie about folks, and
1 didn't come here to set a trap to catch
Silas Harris.'
'No, I don't think you did,' said I,
'skipperty cheese ain't quite the thing
to bait him with, and I don't think he
would have such an old withered gadabout as you be, even if you should
ask him.'
Nance swept her old cheese and chicken into a paper bag then she tied her
old bonnet on her head, and stepped out
on the piazza as mad as a hornet.
'You may go,' said I, 'nobody wants
you here with your old maggotty
cheese.'
Til write a letter to Silas,' she
screamed as she switched down the
path, 'and tell him what a mean thing
you be.'
' I'm agoing to tell him what an old
mischief-making body you are,' was
my answer.
Mrs. Harris now called me, and I
went into her room.
'Has that spiteful creature gone?'
she inquired.
•Yes, I hope so.'
'Good riddance to bad rubbage,' said
she.
'I hope so,' said I.
'If Nance Yincent comes here again,
I'll get Silas to turn her away. I can't
have my nerves disturbed again in such
a manner. Now Peggy, you may do up
the work.'
I went at it with a will. I washed
and put away the dishes, swept the
floor, blacked the stove, and then, as
Silas appeared with two pails of milk,
I went into the milk-room to help him
strain it and put it on the shelf.
"You had quite a time with Nance,
didn't you?" and he burst out laughing.
"I couldn'thelp it, she provoked me."
•'You did just right, but you both
acted as though you had a good deal of
temper," and he actually laughed right
in my face."
I felt kinder ashamed that he had
heard my quarrel with Nance, but I
didn't care much, for I always do speak
right out when I get. a little mad.
After I had strained the milk, and he
had put it away, he laid his hand on
my shoulder and said:
"Peggy, you and I are gettiug pretty
well along in years, and I guess we'd
better have a wedding. Don't you
think it would be a good plan for us to
get married?"
I looked at him kinder startled, it
came so sudden. Finally, I thought
that as I was 45 years old and he only
40, and as I was all alone in the world,
it would be a good plan, especially as
he owned a nice farm. So I told him
I'd have him—though I never did care
anything about the men sex—and we
were married a year ago.
But Nance ain't married, and I hope
she never will be.—Ex.
Mr. Johnson, with his wife, who had
been doing the pleasure resorts for two
inontli3, arrived at the quiet town of X.,
in New Hampshire, where a small hotel,
pleasantly situated and very cleanly,
offered him hospitality. After supper
the landlord walked the piazza, and he
was accosted by Mr. Johnson, when the
following dialogue took place ; "Where
is your sunset hill?" "Haven't got any.'
"Is the Devil's gulch near here?"
"Never heard of it." "How far is ifc to
Lover's Leap ?" "Must be fifty miles,
but I don't know." "Is the Silver Cascade running?" "Don't know; never
knew it was around here." "How f ar
is it to the Springs?" "Didn't know
we had any hereabouts." The attractions of this place are few, it appears."
"Mighty few, and getting scarcer."
"Wife, this is just, the place we have
been seeking. There is nothing to see,
and we will stay here a week."
Judge Deady of Portland, Oregon,
lined Capt. Strachan of the British ship
Anerly, $1,650 for bringing Chinese
passengers in excess of the number allowed by law, and granted no stay of
proceedings.
"Does hoss-racin' hurt anybody" exclaimed a blue-grass turfman, as he
whiled away the rainy Sunday in the
pious endeavor to uphold Gen. Buford's
hands in his great work of reconciling
the church and the turf. "Hoss-racing
hurtauybody? Why, a clean, squar'
race, run from eend to eend, with no
pullin' and no pocketin', ther's no more
danger in a Christian attendin' that
sort o' race than ther is in—in—than
ther is in a duel between two congressmen."
Young man go West and becycloned
with the country.—Boston Post.
Go to! old bean-patch! People will
stand grasshoppers, cyclones, and
anything else that comes along
over the great prairie t, rather
than dry up on the bleak, barren hillsides ot the East. The Post will please
cake-notice that "the star of empire" is
still westward.
"I stand said a stump orator, "on
the broad platform of the principles of
'98, and palsied be my arm if I desert
em'." "You stand on nothing of the
kind," interrupted a little shoemaker
in tho crowd; "you stand iu my boots
tbat you iv-ver paid mo for, and I
want the money,"
The Captain's Tale.
FEOM   "A SUMMER EST THE AZORES."
"One day in March, 1869, while we
was layin' in port off Bunbury, in
Western Australia, I was ashore; and
I see a nice lookin' young fellow, about
twenty-four years old eyein' me pretty
sharp. He was at work on a chain-
gang. Watehin' his chance, he says to
me. Are you the captain of that
whair?'
" 'Yes,' says I.
" Then says he, 'Has the priest said
anything to you about me? '
" 'No,' says I.
'• 'Well, he's goin' to,' say's lie, and
passed on quick.
"The priest follered right along, and
asked me if I'd ever seen that young
man before.
" 'Never to my knowledge,' says I.
•' Then he told me it was a Fenian prisoner; that he had been confined
in Dartmoor prison in England for
seven months, and then sent to Australia for life; that he'd been there going on 'leven months, and wanted to
get off. And tlie upshot of ifc was the
priest offered me five hundied dollars
to get him off.
" I told him I didn't want his money.
If he'd been a thief or a murderer!
wouldn't have tried to help him in
anyway; but I couldn't make out that
he'd committed any crime; so the priest
and I, we fixed it that the next day
when my ship got under way, I should
pick him-up in the yawl—and I did.
It beat all how quick everybody on
board took to that fellow he was so
pleasant and such a handsome young
chap.
"Well, come August, we had to put
into Bodrigues for water. It was that,
or die of thirst. That's not far from
Maru'ifcius in the Indian Ocean.
"By this   time the  news  of 's
escape had got ahead of us and was
known all over the world. It was just
before sunset when a boat from shore
come alongside, and her officer boarded
us.
"- was standiu' just as near me as
I be' to you, when the officer up and
says to me: 'Have you got a man aboard
by the name of ?'
"I kind of thought a minute—It
seemed if 'twas about an hour—ana
then I says ?No,' says I, very quiet:
'We did have a fellow aboard by the
name of Brown, but he died two months
ago at Java.'
"He looked at me a minute; then says
he, 'Well, you've got some ticket-of-
leave men aboard,' haven't you?'
"I was mighty glad he asked me that;
for I thought it would take up his attention and give me a little time to
think.
•■ 'I can't say as so that,' says I.'
" 'Well,' says he, 'call your men up
from forard and we'll soon find out.'
" 'No,' says I: 'I don't want nothin'
to do with that kind of business. You
can look for yourselves if you like.'
So lie and his gang went forrai'd aud
hauled out the stowaways, and put,
'ein abroad their boat, and pulled ashore,
appearin' to be satisfied.
"As soon as they were gone' ,
half crazy, says to me: 'My God! it's all
up with me! What can I do? They'll
come back for me, but I'll never be
taken alive!'
"I knew he meant what he said: for
the priest had told me he'd tried to commit suicide, and, if he couldn't escape,
had determined to kill himself. I
calmed him down; told him to go below
and keep out 6f sight, and I'd try to
think up something; but says I, 'You
shan't be taken as long as I stand by
you.'
" I knew very well that as soon as
they got ashore those ticket-of-leave
men would blow on him; and I really
didn't know what to do. Things looked
black.
"By this time ifc got to be dark, and
I sat down by myself to think. Then
I remembered a kind of locker under
tlie stairs, where the steward sometimes kep' the dishes he wasn't usin? It
was shet by pushin' one of the stairs
over it. I knew they'd never find him
there. Then I went to—and told liim
to go and find a little grindstone there
was on the ship, while I'd stop a spell
and talk with the steward; and wrhen he
heard me fcalkin' he must throw the
grindstone and his hat overboard, give
a shriek and then run and stow himself
in the locker.
"When I come along back I stopped
and says to the steward. 'I don't know
what will happen when those fellows
come aboard to-morrow morning.   	
will never be taken alive. He'll kill
some of 'em and kill himself: he
threatened to do it in Australia.
'•Just then we heard a great splash
a scream.   ^What's that ?' says I.
" 'It's ,' says the steward:   he's
thrown himself overboard.'
"Everybody heard it. The captain
was off that day. I rushed aft, told the
other officers and orders:! out the boats.
The men felt terribly. Every one of
'em was fond of him. We got out four
boats and swept that harbor for hours.
I was flie last boat in. When I got
aboard I found the second mate leanin'
over the ship's side, cryin' bitterly.
'He's gone, poor fellow! here's his hat,
says he; 'the men have justpickedifcup.
We never shall see him again.'
"There wasn't a wink of sleep on
board that night. The next morning I
put the flag at halfmast.   Everybody
was solemn as death.    's wet hat
lay on the hatchway. They all thought
he was dead.
"Tho captain come off to see what
was the matter. I told him the stDry
—how we heard the splash, got out the
boats and picked up 's hat.   Right
in the midst of ifc the officers from
Bodrigues come aboard to claim their
man. We told 'em the story and showed 'em the wet hat. They never offered to search the vessel. They see how
bad the men felt: and they believed ifc
all and pulled off.
"Late  that  afternoon we  got our
water all aboard and here away to sea.
I waited till we was almost out o' sight
o'land; then I says to the captain; 'I
guess I'll go below and get a cigar.'   I
went, and hauled the step away: and
there was —, all in a heap.   I can see
that fellow's face right before me now,
white as chalk, eyes as black as night.
He looked like a wild man.
■  " 'What now ?' says he, trembling all
over.
«'Come out of that,' says I.
" 'What do you mean?' says he.
" 'Don't stop to ask questions, man,
says I.   'Get; out of that and come up;
you're safe for this time.   Land is almost out of sight.'
"He crawled out, and we went on
deck together. 'Now,' says I, -go and
shake hands-with the captain.'
"I went to the side of the ship and
stood there smokin', and pretendin' to
be scannin' the horizon. I see the captain give one look at —; a kind of
scared look.   He thought it was  his
ghost.   Then he wrung 's hand and
burst out cryin' jest like a baby. Pretty
soon he looked at me. I never said a
word. 'Did that fellow have anything
to do with it?' says he.
The Uses of an Enemy,
£i CnABLES V. DEEMS D. D.
Always keep an enemy on hand,
a brisk, hearty, active enemy.
Remark the uses of an enemy:
1. The having one is proof that
you are somebody. Wishy-washy,
empty, worthless people, never have
enemies. Men who never move
never run against anything; and
when a man is thoroughly dead and
utterly butied nothing ever runs
against him. To be run against is
proof of existence and position; to
run against somebody is proof of
motion.
The New Steam Becls,
2. An enemy isj to s ly the least,
not partial to you. He will not
natter. He will not exaggerate
your virtues. It is very probable
that he will slightly magnify your
fault. The benefit of that is two-
fold; it permits you to know that
you have faults, and are, therefore,
not a monster, and it makes them of
such size as ta be visible and manageable. Of course,, if you have a
fault you desire to know it; when
you become aware that you have a
fault you desire to correct it. Your
enemy does for you this valuable
work which your friend cannot perform.,
3. In addition, your enemy keeps
you wide awake. He does not let
you sleep at your post. There are
two that always keep watch, * namely, the lover and the hater. Your
lover watches that you may sleep.
He keeps off noises, excludes night,
adjusts surroundings, that nothing
may disturb you. Your hater
watches that you may not sleep. He
stirs you up when you are napping.
He keep3 your faculties on the alert.
Even when he does nothing he will
have put you in such a state of
mind that you cannot t'ell^ what he
will do next, and his mental qui vive
must be worth something.
4. He is a detective among your
friends. You need to know who
your friends are, and who are not,
and who are your enemies. The
last of these three will discriminate
the other two. When your enemy
goes to one who is neither friend or
enemy, and assails you, the indifferent one will have nothing to say or
chime in, not because he is your
enemy, but because it is .so much
easier to assent than to oppose, and
especially than to refute. But your
friend will take up cudgels for you
on the instant. He will deny everything and insist on proof, and proving is very hard work. There ia not
a truthful man in the world that
could afford to undertake to prove
one-tenth of all of his assertions.
Your friend will call your enemy to
the proof, and if the indifferent
person, through carelessness, repeats
the assertions of your enemy, he is
soon made to feel the inconvenience
thereof by the zeal your friend
manifests. Follow your enemy
around and you will find your
friends, for he will have developed
them so that they cannot be mistaken.
The next best thing to having a
hundred real friends is to* have one
open enemy.
Living in Quiet.
A rule for living happily with others
is to avoid having stock subjects for
disputation. It mostly happens, when
people live much together, they have
come to have certain set topics, around
which, from frequent dispute, there is
such a growth of angry words, mortified vanity, and the like, that the original subject of difference becomes a
standing subject for quarrel, and there
is a tendency in all minor disputes to
drift down to it. Again, if people wish
to live well together, they must not
hold too much to logic, and suppose
that everything is to be settled by sufficient reason. Dr. Johnsen saw this
clearly with regard to married people
when he said: "Wretched would be
the pair, above all names of wretchedness, who should be doomed to adjust
by reason, every morning, all the minute detail of the domestic day." But
the application should be much more
general than he made it. There is no
time for such reasonings, and nothing
that is worth them. And when we
recollect how two lawers or politicians
can go on contending, and that there
is no end of one-sided reasoning on any
subject, we shall not be sure that such
contention is the best mode of arriving
at truth. But certainly it is not the
way to arrive at good temper.
A description of the new apartment
house being built in New York, says
that the bedsteads are stationary, and
that the slats of the beds are steam
pipes, instead of wood, so that there is
a constant warmth kept up all the
time. This may be all right in New
York, but out west here the people
want bed slats, regular old-fashioned
bed slats, a little too short, so that they
will fall down occasionally and let the
mattress fall on the floor. A house
where the midnight clatter of the falling bed slat is never heard, and where
the white-robed head of the family is
not seen raising up the mattress with
one hand, and feeling under the bed
for a bed slat with the other, is a
mournful sight. There is something
singular about the fall of the bed slat.
Statistics show that the bed slat always falls when the man of the house
is sound asleeep, and the woman of the
house is sound awake. The first indication the man has that there is a fall
in. lumber, is the scream of murder that
comes from the sleeping partner of the
firm; and when the man wakes and
finds that his head and feet are high
enough, and that his body is closed up
like a foot rule and gently resting on
the floor, he knows instinctively that
there are no burglars in the house, but
he cannot convince the screamer that
such is the case, even alter the slat is
put in its place, until he goes down
stairs and looks the house all over.
What connection there is supposed to
be between the fall of the bed-slat and
the superstition that a burglar has got
into the house, is more than anybody
could ever tell. Beason would dictate
that loosening a bed-slat so it would
fall down and break the hinge of a
man's back, would be the last thing on
earth that a burglar w*ould do if he got
in a house; but in such cases the poor
man has got to convince his audience
that burglars are not present, or there
will be "no sleep till morn." Another
thing that has struck forcibly the scientists who have investigated the fall
of the bed-slat is, that while the wife
who trembled at the catastrophe was
wide awake at the moment of the fall,
and for hours before, when the slat is
put back and the husband goes on his
Arctic exploration for the alleged burglar, the wife goes to sleep before he
gets back, and as he stubs himself back
into the room with chills and profanity, he is greeted with a snore that is
not reassuring. Such excitement has
become so productive of sleep to the
eyes of the female screamer that we are
told many men who have nervous
wives arrange the bed-slats so they will
fall at any time when sleep fails to
come, and many are thus put to sleep
by the fall of the bed-slat, when opiates
have lost all power over the patient.
This probably illustrates the force of
habit as well as anything that' could
occur. With the new stationary bed
stead, with steam-pipes, we looked for
nothing but .misfortune. The beds will
be either too warm or too com, Hua raw
crackling noise that always comes from
steam-pipes in the night, will cause
sleepers to jump up and yell for the
police. Besides, suppose a steam-pipe
under a bed should explode. One cannot think of the redulfc without a shudder. We predict that those who adopt
the beds run by steam, will speedily return to the time honored and useful
bed*slat. Steam is all right in its place,
and it does many wonderful things,
such as hatching chickens and running
locomotives, but we do not believe it
can ever be utilized as a sleeping utensil to advantage.—Peck's Sun.
Lovable Girls.
Girls without an undesirabe love of
liberty and craze for individualism,
girls who will let themselves be guided;
girls who have the filial sentiment well
developed, and who feel the love of a
daughter for the woman who acts as
their mother; girls w*ho know that
every day and all daylong cannot be
devoted to holiday-making without the
intervention of duties more or less irksome; girls who, when they can gather
them, accept their roses with frank and
girlish sincerity of pleasure, and when
tbey are denied submit without repining to the inevitable hardship of cir--
cumstances—these are the girls whose
companionship gladdens and does not
oppress or distract the old whose
sweetness and ready submission to the
reasonable control of authority make
life so pleasant and their charge so
light to those whose care they are;
these are the girls who become
good wives in the future, and, in their
turn, wise and understanding mothers
and who have to choose out of many
where others are sought of none. The
leaven of them keeps society sweel. and
pure; for, if all English girls were as
recalcitrant as some are, men might
bid adieu to their cherished ideal both
of woman and home.
snake. We were walking leisurely one
day through our field.
All of a sudden we were startled out
of ourselves by something rolling by
us, which looked like the rim of a
wheel without the spokes. When it
passed about ten steps beyond us. in
making an effort to turn, it accidentally
struck the end of a projecting rail.
This must have alarmed it, for all at
once it fell to pieces, and the head joint
darted through a crack of the fence and
into the swamp as quickly as possible.
Bemembering the jointed snake of our
boyhood, and that our grandfather had
told us if we would watch Ave would
see tke head return for the joints left,
as badly as we were scared we determined* to watch and wait tlie head's
return. Not unmindful that we had
been told by them of old time that the
only protector from a hoop snake was
to get behink a tree or stump on the
opposite side from tlie one it was coming, we took a position behind an old
sturnp and waited development.?.'
It was not long before the head came
slowly and cautiously through the
crack of the fence, raised itself loan
angle of 45 degrees, looked in every
direction, and then commenced the
work of rejoining its body and tail to
Ls head. This was soon done. Its
next movement was to rear itself up
perpendicularly, or, in other words, to
stand on its tail. As the head went up
we distinctly saw that each joint possessed India rubber qualities, for as it
went up each joint became extended
until, when the perpendicular position
was attained, tlie head was entirely out
of sight. By a mathematical calcu'la-
tiod we ascertained its head to be a
little less'than five miles high, when it
passed out of sight. Having taken its
bearings it grad ually contracted to nine
feet. It then made a circular dart for
its tail, and without more ado rolled off
in the direction of Atlanta.—TheClari-
on.
The Mailey Trial.
H, !
Darwin thinks that such expressions
among mankind, as the bristling of
the hair under the influence of extreme
terror, and the uncovering of the teeth
unde furious rage can hardly be explained except upon the supposition
that man once existed in a lower and
animal-like condition. The same f aci-
cial muscles are used in laughter by
man and certain monkeys. That habits may be inherited among animals' is
seen in the transmitted, but unnatural
pace of horses, as, for example, cantering and ambling, the peculiar flight
of certain breeds of pigeons, the pointing of young pointer dogs, and the setting of young setters. Mankind also
may inherit tricks or unusual gestures.
A mixture of eight parts alcohol, two
parts ammonia, and one part ether is
very efficacious in removing grease
spots from clothing. It should be applied, and rubbed diligently with clear
water and a sponge. Tho chemistry of
the thing is that tho alcohol and ether
dissolve the grease, while the ammonia
and water act as a soap in washing it
away.
Unexpected Criticism. ^
One of the most eloquent and popular clergymen of Austin, Texas, being
about tq ascend the steps leading to his
church a few Sundays ago, was asked
by a partially blind old lady, who did
not recognize him, to help her up the
steps. With his usual urbanity he
complied with her request. Just as
they reached the top steps she asked
him who was going to preach.
"Parson Smith," he replied, that being his own name.
"O Lord!" exclaimed the old lady.
"Help me down again. I'd rather
listen to a man sawing wood. Please
help me down again. I don't care to go
in."
At first the clergyman was inclined
to refuse, but, on reflection, he gently
assisted her down the steps again, remarking as they reached the "bottom:
"You are quite right, madam, about
not going into the church. I wouldn't
go in either if I wa3 not paid for it."—
Harper's Magazine.
A Wonderful Thing of Life.
The last week has seen the end of the
three most remarkable criminal proceedings of the year, in the hanging of
Guiteau at Washington and the acquittal of Peoples in this city and of the
Mailey boys in New Haven. The trial
of these young men for the murder of
Jennie Cramer lasted through more
than 10 weeks, and although it did not
turn out that there was, ground for
conviction for murder, enough was
shown to prevent their receiving much
sympathy for the confinement and expense to which they have been subjected
Edward O'Malley, a dry goods clerk
in New York, who had a knack at arranging goods showily in the window,
went up to New Haven 30 years ago,
dropped the Hibernian prefix from his
name and opened a sort of cheap dry
goods store on Chapel street. He
flourished amain and grew rich. In
time he built a big house, bought
horses and dogs, and set up for a gentleman. He had a son who aired himself in the store on occasion, drove  a
young men with money are apt to do,
and squandered his cash freely on late
suppers and disreputable women.
Edward's success in money-making attracted to him the usual number of
poor relations, and a son of his broter
made the second of that pair which h
go down to fame as "the Mailey boys."
These young men came to know
Jennie Cramer, a pretty German girl
who sometimes sold cigars in her
father's shop. There was no great social
disparity between the Malleys and Jennie, for although they had plenty of
money to spend, their associates were
none of them in the higher walks of
life. *It Avas not strange that the girl
reckoned herself as good as they were,
and received their attentions very
much as she would those of some neighboring cigar-maker's son who could
command a horse and tmggy for an occasional drive.
Along in August of last year Mr.
Edward Mailey and his family went
out of tOAvn for a day or two, leaving
the boys in possession. They improved the opportunity to bring up a friend
of theirs from New York who went by
the name of Blanche Douglas, and the
trio induced Jennie to accompany them
to the Mailey mansion one evening,
where they spent a time in eating and
drinking. The prostitute and Jennie
both remained till morning, and when
the unfortunate child went home her
mother reproached her A\*ith bringing
disgrace upon her family and .she went
forth never to return. Her dead body
was found floating in the Avater a day
or two afterwards, and the Malleys and
Blanche Douglas were indicted for
murder. The verdict of the jury supports the theory of the defense that she
committed suicide.
Accepting the result of the trial as
just, so far as the killing of Jennie is
concerned, there yet remains theshame-
ful fact that the young meu and their
depraved companion are morally responsible for Jennie Cramer's death.
The crime of seduction is unhappily,
not uncommon, and resulting suicides
are not uncommon either; but a conspiracy of two men and a woman to reduce a girl to prostitution is not only
uncommon but as shameless an undertaking as the imagination of men can
conceive. If anything could add to
the repulsiveness of such a proceeding
it Avould be the fact that the chief offenders chose to turn their oavh homes
into a house of assignation.
In our boyhood we often heard of a
hoop-snake, one that, bringiughis head
and tail together, rolled over and over
like a Avagon wheel. It was said that
this snake did its execution with its
tail, that being pointed like a needle.
We never had the terror of seeing one
of them, but did, when about 8 years
old, see a jointed snake. The joints
were about six inches long. When
alarmed the snake fell to, pieces, the
head joint dsiiting off like an arrow to
a place of concealment. That was the
I last snake of the kind we over saw un-
I til quite recently Ave saw a hoop-jointed
The University of TMTieMgan.
The baccalaureate to the students of
the "University was delivered on Sun-,
day evening. On Tuesday occurred the S
usual class-day exercises for the grad- j
uate*^   At 10 o'clock J. G. Gallaher of J
Hillsdale delived the class oration, on
"England  aud  America,"   which   is
spoken of as a fine production.   Mr. F.
E. Baker of Goshen, Ind., read the class
poem; Wm. B. Cady of Ann Arbor
read the class history, and Miss Laura
Hills of Chicago delivered the  class
prophecy.   These several productions
were   highly meritorious, and   often
charged with the best spice and humor.
ALUMNI DAY.
The alumni of the literary department met at 2:30 p. m., Geo. P. Sanford
of Lansing in the chair. T. B. Chase
of Detroit read the report of Necrology, making record of the death of 16
formerly connected with the University. Resolutions in memory of Presidents Tappan and Haven Avere adopted-
,ed, and also of Frof. William*!. The
officers chosen for the. ensuing year
were:
President— 8. D. Kinne, Ann Arbor.
Vice PrSBident—L. R. JTiske, Albion.
Secretary—X N. Demmoa, Ann Arbor.
Treasurer—Z. P. Kin*r, Ann Arbor.
Orator—0. P. Dickfrson.
Alternate—W. W. Was'aburne.
Poet—B". G. McDongall.
Alternate—C. M. Gayley.
Directors—Charles B. Miller, Merchant
oodrich and Louis Stanley.
The alumni for the department of
medicine and surgery listened to an
address in the afternoon from Prof.
Frothingham on the "Code of Medical
Ethics." and elected for President Dr.
Christian of Wyandotte, for "Vice President Dr. Breaky of Ann Arbor, and
Dr. Yanghn of Ann Arbor for'Seere*
tary.
Prof. Frieze, at 4 o'clock, addressed
a large and deeply interested audience
in memory of President Tappan, paying au eloquent and beautiful tribute
to his ability and character.
COMMENCEMENT DAT.
At 9 a. m., Thursday, the procession
of 234 graduates moved from the laAv
building to University Hall, which was
soon densely packed, After prayer by
President Angell, Hon. J. M. Gregory,
former Superintendent of Public Instruction, delivered the commencement
address, which was in his usual happy
and eloquent style. At the close of the
address, the President conferred degrees on the graduates of the various
departments: on 86 from the literary,
90 from the medical, 40 from pharmacy,
16 from homeopathy. There were 27
lady graduates—10 literary, 11 medical,
Ihree homeopathic, three in pharmacy.
r. C. Chamberlain of Wisconsin, and
Alice E. Freeman of the class of '76,
iow President of Wellesley College,
\Iass., received the degree of Doctor of
Philosophy.
At the coifnencement dinner about
600 guests, mostly alumni, sat down,
and post-prandial speeches were made
by Gov. Jerome, Dr. Gregory, Geo. P.
Sanford, Judge Gritchett, Prof. J. C.
Jones and Miss Louisa Beed Sfcowell.
The President's levee in the evening
was brilliant, and numerously attended 	
BOARD OF REGENTS. _   .......__..
At the meeting of the Board of Be-
gents, Mr. Walker submitted the proposition of the First National Bank to
pay four per cent, on daily balances on
University funds. The proposition
was accepted •'■and the bond of the hank
in the -sum of $50,000 was accepted.
Also the Joyce electric bill.control
rersy, which has heretofore agitated'
he meetings of the Board, came up for
inal action. After a full discussion,
n which both Joy and Frothingham,
is well as other professors participated.
The final report Avas unanimously
adopted:
Certain members of the faculty of
the department of Medicine and Surgery having requested the board in
writing that it be ascertained whether
anyone connected Avith the University
is responsible for the unauthorized use
of the statments of members of the
faculty, "or for the contents or character of "a certain publication made by
Wagner & Co. relating to the electrical
belt or device invented, by Dr. D. A.
Joy, which publication is regarded as a
violation of medical ethics, and charges
having been promulgated against Dr.
Joy, as the party claimed to be responsible therefor, and evidence having been
adduced both in support of, and in denial of, said charges and arguments had
thereon, and the wrhole matter having
been duly considered, the board do And
from the evidence before us as follows:
1. That the faeulty of the department of Medicine and Surgery are in no
manner and to no extent responsible
for the unethical advertisements of Dr.
D. A. Joy's electrical belt.
2. That Dr. Joy did not by written
contract with Wagner & Co. protect
himself and his associates intbefaculty
from unprofessional and unethical use
of their certificates, and thereby exposed himself and them to the liability
of injury, either through the ignorance
or unscrupulousness of his advertisers,
and that thus the enemies of the department have taken occasion to make
scandal.
But believing that Dr. Joy-has in
good faith discontinued the*' said business, and, so far as he could control it,
the advertisement thereof, and that he
has not intentionally brought this
scandal upon the Medical Faculty, w-e
do not find that he has been guilty of
any conduct requiring dismissal from
the University.
 _ iiiii     .	
Muck as a Fertilizer.
y
Onions as Medicine.—If there were
any way of avoiding the long continuance of the odor of onions after eating
them, the consumption of this vegetable* would be vastly increased, great as
it is at present. In addition to the almost universal fondness for them
(which in some European nations has
become a sort of passion), they have al-
Avays been highly esteemed for their
medicinal properties. There is not, in
the whole vegetable Avorld, a more effective anti-scorbutic. Sailors at sea
are protected against scurvy when having plenty of onions, and scurvy is
driven away when they come upon
them. One who ought to know, says:
"Taken regularly, they greatly promote
the health of the lungs and' the digestive organs. An extract, made by boiling down the juice of onions to a syrup,
and taken as a medicine, answers the
purpose very well, but fried, roasted,
or boiled onions are better." But, oh!
if we could only obtain some antidote
to the odor Avhen our neighbor sees fit
to indulge in them!
The use of swamp muck for the purposes of fertilizing, supposed by many
farmers to be of value, and often procured by them at.the expenditure of
considerable labor, is shown by the rel
port of the Connecticut Agricultura-
Experiment Station to be of comparatively small value. On a coarse-textured soil, which will not retain moisture, muck may be useful, but as a direct source of plant food it is not, and
its use on grass land, or ueAvly-broken
soil, is, to use the words of the report,
like "carrying coals to Newcastle." It
is only when the swamp is a basin, with
a small or no outlet, and receiving the
"wash" from rich soil, and has a
growth of herbage tall* and rank, and
a large accumulation of forest leaves,
that the muck may be expected to contain much of value as plant food.
The report also states that the best
potato crops are raised on the blackest
and most mucky soil, and that they
neArer rot, and adds: "Since low, damp
situations are commonly favorable to
the potato rot, this observation
suggests thatpossibly the potato fungus
is counteracted by some Ingredient of
this mucky land.   Ifc is important that
Tr-v
the experience of those who have raised
Bill Nye says the reason the boy potatoes on mucky land should be made
stood on the burning deck was that it public, ip"-"*n->r to guide investigatioh
was too all-fired hot to sit down, I on the s.
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