1882-07-27; Saline Observer

              JT
UT
• ^
a^jgggmi^
■-■Vfy-...--'^-
s
Saline
Observer
■*-<
NISSLY & EMMERT, Publishers.
SALINE, WASHTENAW COUNTY, MICHIGAN, THURSDAY, JULY 27, 1882.
BUSINESS DIRECTORY.
KROFESSIONAIi.
ETE
Ity
C  W. CHANDIiSR, M. D.,
Physician and Surgeon.
All calls promptly atteaiecl to.   Office at residence, first door north of M. E, Church.
Surgical and Mechanical
DENTIST.
Office, 19 South Main Street, opposite First
National Bank,
j^.nn jfL-cToo-t?,   -  DVIicla.
5
>r„
D,
P. McIiACHIiAK,
Physician and Surgeon,
Office and residence opposite SI; E. Church,
^Ldrian street. Saline, Mich.
Tjt JONES & SON,
Attorneys.
All kinds of legal papers neatly and correctly
drawn. Collections made and promptly remitted.  Office on Me Kay street, Saline, Mich.
E. 3 oi*es. Ebank E. Jones.
w
UL B. GELBART,
Attorney at Law,
And Justice of, the Peace.   Office overiSichols
Sro's. store, Chicago street, Saline, Michisan.
jhich
1   °f
pui-a-
pon,
Bajed
£S
W E.HXTMPHSEY,
Heal Estate Agent.
Government Lands located. 20,000 aere3 Of
choice wheat lands for sale. Correspondence
solicited.  EHsb-iry, Barnes CO., D. T.
-aELSCELllANEOTJS.
THE WAGGIN' TONGUE.
"Suppose," he said in accents soft,
"A fellow jdst lika me
Should axle little girl to wed—
What would tlie -uiswer be?
Che maiden drops her l:quid eyes—
Her '■mll'-s with blushes mingle—
-Why Beekthe bridal halter?
You may live od, sur, ciDgle?"
And then he epoke; "Oh be my bride,
I ask yon once again;
You are the en>pfesB of my heart,
Aad there shall ever reinl
Til never tire of kindly desdB   -«.v
To win your jjentle tmart
And saddle be the shart that rends
Cur happy lives apart!
Upon her cheeks the maiden felt
The mantliDe blushes glow—
She toofc him for tier faithful hub,
To share his wheel or whoa!
GSE WAY OF LOYE.
Mrs. W. F. LARZELERE,
The Old and'lleliable
DRESSMAKER and CUTTER
Again offers her services to the ladies of
this vicinity.
PRIOBS' S-UE^s-SO^T-A-BI-iEI
and Satisfaction Guaranteed.     Shop at
residence on Henry slreet, west.
mill do
CEO. R. SHERMAN,
The old and reliable
Wagon and Carriage Maker.
Job work aud repairing promptly done at reasonable rates.   Shop on Chicago St., west.
MYRON
ICE
VJl
WEB!
THE
PEACE
')
JUST
And, In-mrancs Agent.
CONVEYANCING ATTEXDED TO PROSiPTI/T..
Special Attention Given to Collections.
Office 3d door west of the postoffice.
 •*. ——.
E. A. REYNOLDS,
-Notary Public, Real Estate,
Ir-5*JRAKCE ASD COLIiECXIOJ- AGENCl".
Office over <ST. C. Putnam &Co's. store, Milan,
Mich.   AH business entrusted to me will
receive prompt attention.
Psa,ti*oriLlzf3     -Pii©    Boys !
HAUSER~& CLAS?K,
Proprietors of
THE NEW LIVERY STABLE
 At the	
OLD AMBSIOAH HOUSE BARST.
THOMAS ECCLE3,
The Pioneer
BOOT AND SHOE MAKER,
Is now located in. the Burgr building, on
Chieago St., vfbeve he will be glad to see all
his old customers and many new ones.
Kepairing Keatly anil Promptly Done.
, **i-i-*,„.
$1.00
Imes for
»as
\      f
:b.
.RE,
W. HELLER & 8©§S.
Horse Siiosing & Blasksmitliin
Jfyourhorseforgas, interferes or is irregular
in his gait, givs us a call and we will regulate him si he will not anoyyou.
^Special Attention Civen
lotseses having we_ak and diseased feet.
SHOP ON' AXIS' ARBOR STREET.
•gEOISGE   EHM!S.
Merchant Tailor and Cutter.
* I have a, full line of samples of goods carried
by a leading eastern jobbing house, wbieti 1
will furnish my customers at
I buy my trimmings of jobbers and give my
.customers the benefit. Don't buy anything in
-the clothing line untilyou have examined my
■samples and got my prices. I will save you
money. All work warranted. Shop over x)av-
usnports & Son's store.
W. E. ISBELIi.
latloa-
JL. S. BMTOK.
BLiTON & 1SSELL,
PBOPBIETOKS OOP IIIE
Livery, Sale and Feed Stables,
STAGE AND DEAY LINES,
Office,   South Front Street,  Wcsfc Broadway,
20WEE CI1TZ", DAKOTA
Stages to  BUsbury, Hope and lybeclc leave
every Tuesday.   .Land Hunter's Outflts always furnished at reasonable rates,
& SCHMIDT,
Id!
<-**•,
H
J.
a
'M k
Is I
QCHAIEEE
Proprietors of the "Onion Block
MEAT   MARKET.
— All Wnds of —
JVIEAT, POULTRY, FISH ETC
m LowestLiving Prices.  No. 8,Union BlocS,
saline, Jyliehij-an.
mBE, FIEE,  MRE
 -^>O0-
so
I—t
u
J-fotect yourselves against loss by fire, by
insuring property with
W, H. DAVENPORT, Agent
For the f ollowlncr first-class
companies:
IHI&&ARA, of New York, j
CONTINENTAL, of N. Y.,
Detroit FIRE & MARINE
iSSETTS, $6,000,000
Losses Paid Promptly.
RATES AS   LOW AS  ANY
First-class Company.
She was a clerk in the Treasury at
Washington on a salary of nine hundred do lars a year; he was in the post-
office enjoying the privileges afforded
iy an income of twelve hundred.
Once in a while there was a holiday,
when they would take the boat down
to Mount Yernon, if it was warm, aad
•pread their luncheon in the shade of
its historic trees and patronize nature
.-is successfully as if they were nabobs.
Sometimes they had tickets given them
for a comedy or tragedy, when they
laughed or cried with the discernment
of millionaries and the old families.
On Sunday mornings they sang in a
choir and walked out to Long Bridge
later m the day, or-strolled in the Capitol grounds and surprised the first violet in its biding place. Helen's landlady told every new hoarder that Mr.
Yan Yleck "was going with Miss Hil-
tlretb, but Miss Helen always protested
that they were neighbors at home and
had gone to school together when they
were in their pinafores; and the landlady always sniffed when she remarked, -If he's nothing but a friend Ishould
think there'd be a secession of his love-
making sooner or later.'
One day when they were rambling
about Mount Yernons together Helen
fell into a romancing vein. 'Suppose
this is my country seat,' said she, 'and
1 have furnished it in the Queen Anne
style, and I'm entertaining the creme
de la creme. just as they do in novels'—
-A sort of Lady Geraldine—and I am
the poo£ poet, eh ?'
-All bat the poetry,' mocked Helen.
"Isow suppose this is my manor
house," suggested Theodore, " furnished in the renaissance, let us say—I' m
making great demands on your imagination—and I'm entertaining all the
swells. I've lurea you here on the pretext of looking for a four-leafed clover,
but really to ask if you willsh*remy
magnificence with me: what should
you say ? "
"I should put my lessons in gymnastics  into   use and jump  at   the
hance."
-«And if I should ask instead,
" -Com« share my art-*"*, gentle maid?''
"Don't!" cried Helen.
He looked at her a little blankly.
" You don't mean that you care so
little for me?"
"I don't mean anything. Don't let
us talk about marrying and giving in
marriage; we are happy enough, as we
ai e."
" But if /don't marry you some other
fellow will!"
"Nonsense; penniless girls are a
druj- in the market. I've seen misery
enough from marrying on a small
salary ; I've seen people living in two
rooms, on - water and a crust,' so to
speak, doing their own work, with no
pleasures and no society, and no hope
of amendment; people who thought
love would tide them over all the
quicksands—and present y the hallucination wo e off, but the quicksands
remained ; reproaches set in; she grew
bi ter and unlovely, and he morose and
neglectful"—
-• Then you think love an hallucination?"
'I think marriage is a mistake on
twelve hundred a year. If I became
dowdy and hadn't time to cultivate a
taste for esthetics or whatever was the
fashionable craze, and grew jaded and
spiritless with the uncongenial task of
washing pots and kettles and stewing
over a range, and if nobody turned to
look after me as I oassed, one day you
would find yourself disenchanted. Then,
supposing the new administration
should push you out of office, even for
a month, or you should fall ill? No,
we are happy enough just as we are;
don't let us discuss marriage; let us
wait, like Mr. Micawber, till something
turns up.'
And so Yan Yleek waited. Eerhaps
he was disappointed in Helen's views,
but be refused to confess it even to
himself; all women felt so, he supposed,
cared more for shadow than substance,
or mistook the one for the other; it was
their poetic temperament which made
poverty hateful to them and splendor
their natural atmosphere, and he applied himself more diligently than ever
to his idea, working far into the night
at times.
'You were not at the President's last
evening,' one of hi3 fellow clerks said to
him later.
T? So; I should think not.'
But Mis3 Hildreth was there; she
Mr. Sterling, M. C, were hand in
glove.   I heard him ask her to go and
hear 'Lohengrin' to-morrow night.'
•Mr. Sterling is in luck," was all Yan
Yleck ventured to say; he did not
choose to carry his heart on his sleeve
for every clerk to peck at. If Mr.
Sterling was fascinated by Helen, it
surely was no fault of hers; many a
man "had been bewitched by her before this elderly congressman, only
Theodore forgot that they had all been
needy suitors—and as for Helen, he
felt as sure of her as of seed time and
harvest.
But on one occasion he left his work
early and hastened to see her; a cloud
of ugly rumors had assailed him and
interfered with his tasks; she should
brush all the cobwebs out of his heaven. He met her coming down the
staircase in a white evening dress, with
flowers in her hand—costly exotics,
such as wealthy lovers send their sweet- j
hearts, such as he had never dared to
buy.
'Where did they come from,' he demanded.
•They grew, I  'spects—like Top3y/
answered Helen, laughing uneasily.
•Where did you get them, Helen?'
'You are inquisitive, Mr. Yan Yleck.
Thev were sent me.'
>By Mr. Sterling?'
'You do credit to your nationality,
you're a capital Xankee. Yes, by Mr.
Sterling, of course/
•Helen,' he cried, beneath his breath
—'Helen, you are going to marry Mr.
Sterling?'
'I—believe I am,' she said, dropping
her eyes.
Theodore never knew exactly how he
found his way out of the house; he
was vaguely aware of brushing against
a stout gentleman in a fur-trimmed
ul3ter; as he shot into the street, of a
Btately carriage and pair standing at
the door, and a darkbro wed leaning out
to look after him.
The next day he resigned his position
in the possoffice, drew his savings from
the bank and left Washington. It
were well, perhaps, if he could put
deserts and seas and mountain ranges;
between Helen and himself. It seemed
to him as if the earth had reeled from
its orbit, and it required time for him
to readjust himself to the situation.
His idea was all that was left to him;
he put into it all his earnings, he devoted heart and soul to its development,
and he finally forgot himself and Helen
Hildreth in his work and its success.
It was seven or eightyears later that
they met, oddly enough, on the Mount
Yeraon boat. Her vivacity was no
longer thespontaneouseffervescence of
youth and hope; she wa3 a trifle passee,
perhaps.
'Wealth and splendor have not proved
all her fancy painted them,' he thought
as their eyes met. 'Mr. Yan Yleck,'
she cried, 'who would have dreamed of
meeting you here!' Was the pleasure
which brightened her eyes and deepened her somewhat exaggerated dimples
a reminiscence of her power or was
Mrs. Sterling a married flirt, he wondered. 'We have heard of you often,
to be sure,' she purred. 'The newspapers have not been silent concerning
you and your great invention. I've always felt an ownership in that invention, do you kno w ? I felt as if I were
bebind the^seenes, let into the secret before the rest of the outside world, when
it was only a dream. I've resented
every infringement'^—.
"I am flattered that you remember
my small affairs," said Theodore
humbly.
" Remember," she repeated with a
lingering accent," I have nothing else
to do."
"I come down here sometimes," she
pursued after a brief pause, " when we
have a holiday, for the sake of auld
lang syne, and try to believe I am seven
years younger and the world before me
where to choose. I like to come when
the peach trees are in bloom, as they
were that day when we built our
castle in the air. Mine have crumbled
into dust."
"Mrs. Sterling, I am sorry to hear
you speak so."
She stared at him an instant, blushed and dropped her eyes in the old effective way. "Haven't yoa heard,"
she said. "I didn't marry.Mr. Sterling."
Perhaps she expected Theodore to
beam with sudden happiness and rehearse the old story she had refused to
hear once before.
"You left no address, you know,"
defending herself from the reproaches
she anticipated. "Mr. Sterling died
before the wedding day was set. I
| thought you would see it in the newspapers. I am a Treasury girl yet,
Theodore. Do you know that I sometimes wish that I had never seen Mr.
Sierling?"
Only the Pates know what Yan
Yleck would have, answered, but just
at that moment a bit of crepe lisse floated into their neighborhood and a voice
like a summer brook crind, " Oh, my
veil, Theodore !" Theodore put out a
hand but it eluded him ; Helen made
a quiek movement and caught it on the
wing. *
"Let me introduce you to Mrs. Yan
Yleck, Miss Hildreth," he said. " She
would like to thank you."—Our Continent.
Trades Unionism, and. Strikes.
The Fairy Chests.
The secret money-drawer, the hidden
treasffre, the miser's board and the like
furnish material for incidents and plots
for-novel writers, :md in real life one
and all repeatedly play apart.   "The
Mysterious  Money   Chest"   has   just
furnished a puzzle f..r the Philadelphia
courts to solve.   Jane and Susan Shaw,
two old maiden ladies, lived for many
j years in the Quaker City.   Jane died in
April, 1881, leaving a fortune of $60,-
Q00, to go to her sister for life and then
to other legatees.   Susan died in April
of this year.   She left her property to
the same relatives, with one exception.
When the executor, who was the same
in both cases, was making an inventory
of the estate, he stumbled across "four
mysterious chests. ■ They were made of
heavy wood, were iron tipped and firmly locked.   After a deal of trouble they
were opened, and found to be full of
silver and gold.   No motion had been
made of such a treasure, and its existence was n3ver suspected.   Two men
were employed five hours in counting
the money, which summed up $21,001).
The executor put the money-to Susan's
account, but objections were made.   It
was shown to the court that Susan had
exhausted her means in investigations
made shortly before her death, while
Jane had been of economic habits, and
lived far within her income.   The money was awarded, therefore, to Jane's
estate,—Fso.
What right has a trades union to
control a man's labor? In this country labor ought to be free. Every
workman ought to be absolutely free
to decide for himself whether he wishes to work or to stop. But the unions
deny the right to work of those who
are'nat members, and assume to dictate to those who are members whether they shall work or not. By what
right? Is it answered that the member has voluntarily given to the association that control over his actions?
that only puts the old question back
one step. What right had he to part
with his freedom? Does he not owe
sacred duties to his wife, his children
and others dependent upon him ? Has
he any right to subject them to want,
because a body of men who have different interests and d uties so direct ? The
wife may be lying in siekaess; has he
any right to quit the work necessary
for her care because a majority who
have no such duty wish to quit? The
education and the future lives of children may depend, upon the steady employment of the father; has he any
right to bind himself to consign them
to ignorance and want whenever a majority may so direct? Every man in
thi3 land owes a duty to his country.
He i3 bound to promote its peace and
order, to support its laws, to seek the
prosperity of its industry, Has any
man a right to say that whenever others vote to strike he will join, though
he may know that it will lead to some
violence, some crime, much disorder
and serious harm to the industry ot
the land?
What have trades unions done for
labor? They have put the most industrious and thrifty at the mercy of
the turbulent, reckless and shiftless.
There are soma workmen who waste
money in drink or lust, some who
would never save anything if then-
wages were doubled, some who care
nothing for home or family ties.
These men have the power to turn the
scale, for or against a strike, in almost
every trades union wfeere there is a
difference of opinion. The worst
workmen and the worst men invaribly
are most inclined to a,contest. Every
sober and industrious man knows that
such men continually insist upon acting against his judgment and sense of
duty, and frequently prevail. By such
men labor is forced into frequent and
needless contests with employers, and
the sense of common interest is destroyed. By such men labor is demoralized; through the unions they make
it no longer necessary to do good work
n order to secure good pay and steady
employment. Thus labor steadily deteriorates in character and value, so
that employers can no longer afford to
pay as much for it. It is not strange
that the best workmen will thus bind
themselves to suffer for the shirking and shiftlessness of the worst.
What do trades unions do for the
boys ? Years ago the sturdy American
mechanic took pride in having his
sons thoroughly trained for useful occupations. Apprentices were wantedi
ana decent workmen never objected.
But the unions strive desperately to
prevent the thorough training of a
sufficient number of young men to supply the future demand in every trade.
With a shameful shelfishness, as if a
father should insist on starving his
son in order to eat more himself, these
unions shut out American hoys by the
thousand from proper training for
labor. The half-trained or untrained
workers who come from Europe in
armies the unions cannot shut out
without breaking down-altogether, and
so it comes to pass that they deprive
sons of Americans of opportunities to
labor in order to give more work and
higher wages to immigrants. The
American boys are driven to "live by
their wits," or go to the bad, while the
least worthy class of immigrants
swarm into the trades unions and
seise despotic power there over the
labor and lives of better men than
themselves.
Is not the end always crime ?   There
are desperate and bad men in every
secret league.   The fierce excitement
of combat tends to push even the best
men to extremes,  but those who are
not the best, those who fill themselves
with liquor and give the rein to brutal
passions,   go  to   extremes   whenever
their cause seems  likely to fail.   In
every laud the path of the trades union
has been ever marked by crime and
bloodshed.   Laborers   of   the   better
class do not approve these deeds, but
what right have they to take part in a
struggle which almost invariably leads
to law-breaking by some of their associates ?   Has a decent citizen any right
to league himself in an undertaking
that is sure to excite the fiercest passion, with men whose excited passions
he well knows will have no respect for
law, for public order, for rights  of
property, or   even  for  human  life?
The workman who consents  to  act
with a trades union of which some
such men are members—does he not
make   himself   responsible   for-  the
crimes  they are well nigh certain to
commit?—if. T.Tribune.
and ate a little. By evening she was
quite lively, and the next morning she
squealed for her breakfast. Not one of
the sows or of the three pigs that got
the medicine died, but were all well and
lively inside of 24 hours. Since that I
had one sick hog in another lot and
cured it with one dose of the medicine.
I am now satisfied that if I had got the
medicine when my pigs were well, and
fed a little cf it as Sir. Andrews had
tried to get me to do, I would not have
had any sick hogs, and I believe I could
have saved every pig if I had given the
medicine when I first noticed they were
sick.
Abraham Tuttle.
Mr. Tuttle lives near Cowan, Monroe
township, is a member of the Society of
Friends, and is well known as a reliable
man. It will keep hogs well, and at the
same time much more than pay for itself in the extra pork it will make without any extra feeding, as will be seen
by Mr. George Kirby's statement, who
treated 16 hogs with the powder, and
got a gain from them of 185 30b -, while
another lot, of, 16. fed the same only
without the powder, gained only 80 K>s
in two weeks.
ISTo one who has given this medicine
a fair trial for the sole purpose of keeping hogs in perfect condition, can have
no doubt but what it pays a big profit
on its cost, as it increases the thrift and
growth of the hogs so treated to a
marked degree in all cases, upon the
same principle that flax-seed oil cake,
when given it proper quantitie3, promotes the healthfulness and thrift of
horses and cattle.
What the Pace Shows.
Chicago Sentiment.
The
Great Hog Cholera Hemedy
and Preventive.
War Sounds by Telephone.
■   An eighty-ton   gun, which  speaks
with the power of 370 pounds of powder behind a projectile weighing 1,700
pounds, has a voice somewhat louder
than that of a human being, but the
use of the telephone to carry the war
sounds of Alexandria 1,000 mile3 yesterday suggests a query as to how long it
will be before the telephone will be
adopted for ordinary use at long distances. The London Globe reports that
an   instrument  was  attached to the
Mediterranean cable at Malta, which s
nearly 200 miles from Alexandria, and
the bombardment was plainly audible
1,000 miles away,   The fact that the
telephone which received the sounds
was so far from the bombarding geet
makes the success of the experiment
especially remarkable.   Inventors are
at work upon the problem of how to
adapt the telephone for use at long distances, and if the sounds of war can be
carried 1,000 miles, it seems reasonable
to believe that the use of the telephone
for conversation at 200 miles can be
made practicable.   A test of a subterranean telephone at Jersey City recently
encourages hope of such a result.—N.
Y< Mail,
Since the Great Hog Cholera Bemedy
introduced by Dr. Joseph Haas of Indianapolis, was thoroughly tested here
at the Union Stock Yards and found to
be all right as a remedy and preventive
of hog cholera, we have steadily been
its advocate, and,have recommended it
through our columns freely to all breeders of swide, and we now call attention
to the following strong testimonial in
its favor from the Muncie (Ind.) Times:
After supper on Wednesday, May 18,
I noticed one lot of my pigs were sick.
There were 28 Michigan pigs and five
sows in this lot.   By bedtime 12 pigs
were dead, and eight more died during
the night.   In the morning I went to
Muncie and got a package of Dr. Haas'
Hog  Medicine at George   Andrews'
drug store.   It was about 11 o'clock
when J got hack homo, and I found
three more of my pigs dead and two
others dead shortly after.   This left me
three pigs and five sows, and they were
very sick.   One sow was so bad 1 had
to get help~and pry open her mouth and
drench her.   She was so near dead she
would hardly swallow, but we managed
to work a little of the medicine down
her throat.   We then drenched two of
the pigs; the other pigs and sow ate
from the trough a little slop with the
medicine in it.    You will  think it
Eound-eyed persons see much, live
much in the seuses, but think less.
Narrow-eyed parsons, on the other
hand, see less, but think more and feel
more intensely. It will be observed
that the eyes of children are open and
round. Their whole life is to receive
impressions. It is only when childhood
is maturing toward man or womanhood
that thought comes, if it comes at all.
But what is it that most leads to reflection? Experience. Our errors, our
shortcomings, our failures—theseteach
us to think before we act, to consider
each step, to weigh every motive.
When, therefore, the upper eyelid—for
it is that which has the greatest amoun
of mobility—droops over the eye, it in
dicates not merely reflection but some
thing painful to reflect about. Hence
the length or drooping of the upper
eyelid be tokens confession and penitence.
The drooping of the half of the eyelid from the outer angle to the center
indicates the disposition to confess one's
faults to parents or seniors, to a "father
confessor," or to the Supreme Being.
The drooping of the half of the eyelid
from the inner angle to the center betokens the disposition to repent, and to
"do works meet for repentance." Closely allied to these signs are those of
prayerf ulne3S and humility, The former is indicated by the muscle which
turns the eye directly downwards, as
renresented in the pictures of the
Madonna. Prayerrumess is ua^a,nj
large in connection with the signs 5 oi
confession, and humility in connection
with that of penitence; the reason of
which is, that between the faculties of
penitence and humility there is the
same close connection as between confession and prayer. One who has more
prayer than humility has the eye turned habitually somewhat upwards, so
that the upper part of the iris is a little
covered by the upper eyelid, and so as
to leave a slight space between the iris
and the lower lid. The reverse is true
of one who has more humility than
prayer.
Th8 faculty of truth—that is, the
love of it—is indicated by the muscle
which surrounds the eye, causing folds
and wrinkles.   Justice is indicated by
the muscle which causes perpendicular
wrinkles between the eyebrows.    Fulness and wrinkles under the eye, for
which some persons are remarkable,
indicate the love of mathematical accuracy; and wrinkles curving upwards
from the outer angle of the eye and
eyebrow, indicate probity or personal
truthfulness.   There are three degrees
of the faculty of justice.   The first is a
kind of exactness or strict honesty in
3mall money matters which some people would call closeness, and is indicated by a singular perpendicular wrinkle or line between the eyebrows. The
second is  the  disposition to require
justice in others, and is indicated by
two perpendicular lines or wrinkles,
one on each side of the center —a veiy
common sign.    The third  degree is
conscientiousness,  or  the  disposition
to apply the rule of justice to one's self,
and is indicated by three or more wrinkles or lines, especially noticeable, extending above the eyebrow when the
muscle is in action.   The love of command is indicated by one or more short
transverse wrinkles across the root of
the nose, exactly between the eyes.   It
may be seen in great  military commanders, in masters and teachers, and
in those generally who are fond of exercising authority.   In those who are
wanting in the power to command, and
have no desire for responsibility, this
sign is also absent.   The faculty of command frequently acts with that part of
justice which reprimands, or requires
others to do right, and both together
produce that frowning and lowering
brow which is so terrible to evil-doers,
or to those who love to be approved
rather than condemned.—Phrenological
Magazine.
"Is it not beautiful, sweetheart?"
As Lillian McGuire spoke these
words she looked into Bupert Hether-
ington's face with her starry eyes, and,
as the light of holy love shot forth
from within their dusky depths, he felt
instinctively that she was going to hold
him up for some ice cream. But, conquering the sombre reflections that this
ghastly thought called up/ the young
man placed his arm around Lillian's
waist to prevent her red sash from being sunstruck, and waited in the tense
agony of a horrible suspicion for her to
speak again.
"Do you not think it is lovely, darr
ling?"
"What?" asked Bupert, with an ingenuous Owl-Club expression on the
perfect features of his West-Side face.
"Why, the morning, to be sure," replied the girl, a sunny, six-button smile
playing lightly around her lips as if
afraid it might fall in. "The twittering
of the birds, those silver-throated harbingers oi summer, is to be heard on
every branch and bough. The air is
lades with the delicate perfume of lilac
and apple blossoms, while the dew-kissed leaves of yon sturdy maple reflect a
little of the crimson and gold of the
rising sun. Spring has been a sad laggard, but now that she has come in all
ier glory of bud and blossom, what can
be more beautiful?"
"I cannot tell you," replied Bupert.
"You are far too fly for me, dearest,
when such matters are to be discussed.
But in the dreamy, sensuous days of
autumn, when the tasseled corn hangs
ripe in the sheaves, and the leaves have
felt the blighting touch of the Frost
King's icy breath, I am more liable to
get there. Mine, as you know, is a
sensitive, Sedgwick street nature that
shrinks from contact with a cold and
cruel world. To me the spring has
naught of joy. The low, mellow note
of the new milch cow chasing a
butcher's-wagon in which her off-spring
uneasily reclines seems to me like the
wail of a lost soul, and weird fancies
crowd my brain as I hear at midnight
che mournful hoot of the owl, flitting
like some evil spirit amid the desolate
precincts of the viliage churchyard."
"It is your liver, darling," murmured
Lillian.
"I sometimes think so," was the reply. "Ever and anon the thought
comes over me like a black demon of
the night that I am off my feed. But
it cannot, must not be. Yet in the
autumn all is changed. The soft mezzotints of the pumpkin pie fall gratefully
on my eye, and all nature, laughing in
the fruitage of an abundant harvest,
seems joyous and free from care. It is
to tell you this that I have come around
so early this mornings—to tell you that
in the months that are to come, the
scorching days of midsummer, when
che sun, hanging like a ball of molten
brass in the sky, will send down its
rays in pitiless fury, you had better get
another fellow—one who will love you
dearly as I have done, and whose memory you can ever cherish with tender
gentleness."
"    ~UUTi \V1LUU1 Slli.ll X -gol. ">•-   i5k.li.iia.    -u—
girl in agonized tones.
"I have thought of this, sweetheart,"
Rupert replied. "You can do no better
chan take George W. Simpson. He
loves you dearly. I know it, because
he has often told me that he doesn't,
and George Gannot tell the truth."
"I will do as you say," said- the girl,
choking back a  sob  that was welling
up from her breakfast. "And now good
by."
"So long," said Bupert, kissing her
as he spoke.
The girl threw her arms around his
neck, kissed him. with a passionate,
pump-suction kiss, and went into the
house.
Eupert walked around the corner,
where he met "George Simpson.
"Did you fix it?" asked George.
"Yes," was the reply.
"Which do I get, winter or summer?"
"Summer."
"You are in luck, as usual, old boy.
They tell me she can beat the record
eating ice-cream."
"Yes," said Bupert, "but think of
the oysters!"
"True," replied George. "I had forgotten the oysters."—Chicago Tribune.
weeks or months before have lain there
in torpor. The phenomena of the
bursting of the monsoon are repeated
from hill-top to hill-top, till the whole
country from Cape Comorin to Bombay
and the great plaias beyond, is similarly visited. Then follows a period of
comparative repose, during which welcome rains continue to fall, with but
short intervals, for three or four
months, invigorating, and refreshing
all things.—St, James Gazette, June  8.
 _M3Bia-	
Rattlesnake's Poison.
WHAT WAS  DONE WITH MB.   WOKTH.
E. M. Worth, was bitten by a rattlesnake at his Museum in New York.
Raising the lid of the cage the huge
snake lying dormant he struck it on the
head when it immediately fastened its
fangs in his thumb. Disengaging himself he drank a pint of whisky. His
wound was the first of the short which
had occurred in the city in twenty
years. Whisky is the only antidote,the
hospital doctors say, for a rattlesnake's
bite. The poison, which is very rapid
in its effect, coagulates the blood and
reduces the vitality. Whisky produces
an effect precisely the contrary. As
soon as he was bitten, Mr. Worth applied his lips to the wound made by
the snake, which was in his left thumb,
and sucked it. By this means he removed a great part of the poison. A
quantity still was left, and, together
with the whisky which he drank, and
to which he was unaccustomed, rendered him delirious. At the Chambers
Street Hospital, the wound was enlarged so that it would bleed freely,
and was injected with amonia, which
is a local antidote. The thumb at
present is slit on the outer part the
full length between the two points to
the bone.
The doctor in charge of the patient
frankly confessed his ignorance, in a
practical point of view, in such eases.
He understood, he said, that the snake
grasped his victim by two fangs, placed
in the upper jaw, and introduced a
third and poisonous fang' from the
throat. The wound, when the patient
came under his charge, was a continuous one, and he still further enlarged
it. The treatment was dictated from
reading, and not from experience.
As soon as the patient recovered consciousness he was subjected to hypodermic injections of morphia and
whisky. The morphia was given as
an anodyne, and the whisky to keep up
vitality. Ten syringes full of whisky
were injected yesterday hypodermicaily
over the stomach. The quantity
amounted to only about two ounces, or
four tablespoonfuls, but it entered immediately into the circulation, and was
equivalent to a pint of liquor consumed in the ordinary way. The injections,
both of morphia and whisky, were
moderated gradually.
His arm was swollen to a point
above the elbow, and about the wound
the flesh was of a green color. After
being allowed to bleed freely, the
wound was swathed in a flaxseed poultice, and the arm, voluminously band-
ranged to support the bed clothes.
Although the doctors feel the crisis
has favorably passed the patient feels
comfortable only when under the influence of the opiates. He breathes short
and sharp, like a man in pain, and complained of hisarm, which he could not
move. His pulse was almost normal,
and he had only a slight fever. The
Bellevue doctor ascribes his patient's escape to the prompt taking of whisky.
It is, he says, the only known antidote
for a rattlesnake's bite, and it must be
taken immediately, inasmuch as the
poison works with marvelous celerity.
Mr. Worth's unconsciousness, the doctor say3, which occurred within ten
minutes after the bite was . received
was the result of the poison more than
of the liquor which he took. He says
quite positively that his patient will recover. .	
The Summer Crop of Degrees.
JDAYID AND GOLIATH.
As Tjold by a Local Preaeher m tlie
South-West. i
La it week, my brethren, as I was a-
readii' in my Bible, I found a story on
o w« fight (j, Samuel, xvii.)   It was
; :ful interestin', and, I studied jit
; all the week.   There was t-*jo
a campin' on -two mountains
fornenst each othei?-"#jid a holler,
reckon, some good bottom land
medder lot lyin' between 'em. In
a big
powej
amos
armies
right
and,!
and a!
—a
every]
der
camp
to pidk
down
soger
Saul,
The Bursting of the Monsoon.
sheepj
sass,
had tb
Bu|
with
tnu -vtac ~KA-£i
VOL. II. NO. 40.
one of: the armiesthere was a big feller
jwhoppin'   great b^'feiie^^aM'
day he went down into the mejl-
Ibt and looked upithehill to t'other
and just dared 'em.   He told 'ein
their best men and send him.
Arid
the hill and he'd fight him.
he jdst strutted around there in hjis
close, waited for 'em to send on
their Inan. And such soger close Inev^r
heard tell on afore.
He had a brass cap and brass trousers, and a coat made like mail-bags
wiiero they are all ironed and rivete^i
together. But the fellers in t'other
camp jest clean flunked. They daren't
fight the big feller, nary one on 'em..
They jest sneaked away and the tig fejl-
ler hd went back to camp. But he
didn't quit thar, the lug feHer J|dn^. __
He y, &s spilin' for a 'fight and he w^s"'
bounc to have it. He jest went dowb.
into t tie bottom land, into the medder
lot, e^
dared
ery day, mornin' and evenin', and
'em and dared 'em.   I tell you hie
pesteijed 'em mightily.   The old feller,
the Gineral, he'felt more chawed
up aid meaner than the sogers, and,
when he couldn't stan5 it no longer, hje
told t le boys that if any on 'em wanteji
to go 10 wn and lick the big feller, he'jl
give ;iim. his gal and a right smart
chance of plunder. But they was ail
so sk ser'd that even that didn't start
one 0J: 'em, The big feller went down
and d ired 'em and pestered 'em more'ii
a moii th, forty days, the Bible says, i
I don't know what they'd done if it
hadn'; a been that a peart little fellet
hadome down to camp one day tjo
fetch some extra rations to his threje
big hi others that their old dad sent tp
'em fi om home. Kind old pap, he was,
and s larp, too, for he sent along a big
present to the boys' Cap'en. Well, jest
as th* little feller drove up, they wa!s
all gvine out to fight, and the little feller list his traps with the driver'and
legged it after the sogers, and toljl
his bi*r brothers howd'y. Right thai"
the old big feller came out and darea
'em a jain, and they were all so skeer'jl
that t hey just run like mad. The little
feller heered him, and then went back
into samp and heered all the sogers
talkiig about him and what the olid
Ginei al would give to have him licked.
He a* ked 'em a heap of questions about
it all, and his big brother got mad it
him, and twitted him about keeping
and gave him aright smart 6f
He was plucky, but you see? he
stan' it, 'cause 'twas his big
brothjer. Big brothers are mighty meaii
sometimes. j
the little feller talked a heip
the other sogers, and they told.
to tell the little feller to. come
Bee him.    The little feller was
them]
and
The brief message which reached us
a day or two ago from Bombay—" the
monsoon has burst"—has a meaning in
it which only those who have lived in
India can fully understand.   On the
regular bursting of the monsoon the
very existence of the people of India
may be said to depend.   But for the
monsoon the whole country would perish under its glaring sun; and during
the early days of June Anglo-Indians
look anxiously for the brief announcement of its coming.   The southwest
monsoon sets in generally toward the
end of April, the steady wind sweeping
up from the Indian Ocean and carrying with it dense volumes of vapor,
which slowly collect in dark masses of
cloud as they approach the continent.
From  Adam's Peak in  the  Isle  of
Spices, right along the^ Eastern and
Western  Ghauts  and *the  Niigiris,
every hill-top is gradually shrouded in
mist.   Instead of standing out clear
and sharp   against the sky.   Darker
and denser became the clouded masses;
the horizon assumes a heavy leaden appearance, sometimes kindling into  a
-    - • lit. _   r.
mighty plucky, and he jest up and told
the 0 d Gineral Saul that he'd fight tie
big f iller! The Gineral looked at tlie
hand some little  feller   he   was real
iiome—and ses he, kindly softly:
kon," and shakin' his head, "it's
too big a lob; you're only a chunkjjfja-
boy, $nd he's an old fighter." The littjle
spunked up and told the old Gineral tiaat he'd had one b'ar fight, and lie
killec. the b'ar. He1 said there was ^n.
old lijon and a b'ar got among his dad's
_, and was g wine off with a l?.mb.
He bjroke for 'im, and as soon as he mbt
up waththe old b'ar he lamm'd him till
the brar turned on him for a hug; biit
he g<j>t one hand into the long ha'r ujn-
hahdi
'■I re
The    Sturgis,   Michigan   Democrat
states that Levi S. Sanders, a farmer in
Indiana,  near the Orange and Lawrence county   line,   attracted   to  his
dog by his  unusual actions and be-
moanings, found him  confronting  a
monster snake nine feet seven, and*a
quarter inches in length, and eight and
three-quarter inches in circumference.
The combat  wa3 fierce, and, after a
struggle of nearly an hour, the snake
cocked up its head, and with a lurid
glare of eyes peculiar only to snakes,
made a last desperate leap for the canine, and quick as a flash coiled itself
around the dog's neck.   He would have
been choked to death in a moment but
for a neighboring dog which came to
the rescue, and seized the snake by the
heud in the twinkling of an eye.  The
massive reptile rolled from the dog's
neck, the snake was killed, tlnn saving
the life of one  of the most faithful
watch dogs in the valley.
The use of glas- is of high antiqui
y    Mummies have been found with
strange, but in one-half hour the sow j t liss beads which must be 3,000 vears
that was so nearly dead got up herself' old.
lurid glare—answering to the sense of \
oppression, both mental and physical,
which  accompanies  it.   The  atmosphere becomes "close" and oppressive
alike to man and beast; but the heat
is borne with patience, for relief is at
hand.   Flashes of lightning play from
cloud to cloud, and heavy thunder reverberates through the heavens, the
wind suddenly springs up into a tempest, and along the shore the white
waves are tossed in foam against the
rocks or over the burning sand.   Then
a few great heavy drops of rain fall,
like balls of lead from the apparently
leaden sky; the* forked lightning is
changed to sheets of light, and suddenly the flood-gates of heaven are opened,
and not rain but sheets of water, are
poured forth, refreshing the parched
eartb, carrying fertility over the Bur-
face of the country, filling the wells
and natural reservoirs with a fresh
store, and replenishing the dwindling
rivers and streams.   The whole earth
seem3 suddenly recalled to life.   Vegetation may almost be seen to grow, and
from the baked mud of the river-banks
emerge   countless  fishes,  which  for
Peach crops are spoiled by late frosts,
cherries are ruined by heavy showers
at ripening time, curculio blights the
promise of plum trees and rain storms
spoil strawberries; but neither seasons
too late or too early, fierce sun ox perpetual cloud, or anything else, can lessen the quantity of alleged honoraryde-'
grees  that  American  colleges yield
about this time every year.   There was
a time when a college conferred degrees
only upon its own graduates AVho had
become illustrious, but later the rage j
f or offering men capital letters to put
after their names became so great that
no institution of learning  found  its
own-alumni equal to the demand, so
all of them began to scour the country
for men vain enough to imagine  that
people would think more of  them if
they could add alphabetical puzzles to
their  signatures.    Guiteau  died  too
soon to become an LL. D. but if he had
lived there would have been nsthing to
prevent his obtaining as many degrees
as he might have cared for. A few sensible citizens have refused the doubtful
honors thruskupon them, and  a  majority of the men most prominent in
the more intellectual departments   of
human effort have never been offered
the modest degree of M. A., even by a
woman's college; but   still  the farce
goes "On until the only estimable  distinction which a college can now ^confer upon a man of self-respect is that of
letting him alone.   Cannot the degree
makers take the hint and so cease to
be laughed at?—if. Y. Herald.
der his jaw, and he lamm'd him with
the o ther'ntill he was dead. He'd killed
the 1 on and the b'ar, and he know'djie
was snough for the old, bis- feller.
Then the little feller talked raal *tje-
ligio: l to th8 old Gineral. You see he'd
got'i aligion afore that, and he kno wed
that       -    " 	
was if.
jfche Lord would help a feller, if he
.11 right, and got into a tight plaie.
He tbld Gineral Saul that the Lord hkd
mad|lmn mighty supple, and lookjed
[or him when the old lion and b'jar
to get their paws into him ; and he
outi
tried
kno\*ed He'd see him through the figjht
with the old big feller, for lie was jx|st
darn.' 'em and pesterin' 'em to make
garni! of religion. When the old Gm-
eed he was so plucky and religious,
le knowed them's the kind that jut
xf ul, and he told him to go in, and
ade a little prayer for him hissejlf.
1 the old Gineral put his soger close
on t!
he little feller, and strapped Ms
The Pension Bill.
The pension appropriation bill as it
passed the Senate makes no change in
the amount appropriated by the House,
which remains at $100,000,000.   Uo
amendments except those recommended
by the Senate committee on appropriations were adopted.   Outside the mere
verbal changes the amendments author- i
ize the .Commissioner of Pensions to
appoint surgeons to make such examination of pensioners and applicants as
he shall require, and to organize boards
of surgeons to consist of three members
each at such poiuts in each state as he
shall deem necessary to conduct such
examinations, subject to the revision of
a special board of three surgeons, to be
appointed when the exigencies of the
service require it.   The fee for such
"examinations shall be $2 for each member of the board.   An amendment was
also adopted prohibiting thepayment of
double pensions.
pell
of
^j^iSNjafe^^fra^S^s^^i:
./
t&fytffi
S     ir^i rfr~£-G5*«e>   "A.*.       to     -Jt"* .'      **" ^Aa-MI^— >***tortA"" '   i—w-**--*^*v*
«a«SS~A~«.J—*a:
B«s»«S5B«aS9M«iSt»
\bm^£S^S.
1
A
j^»f^^g-^^;^*c^>ijs|^Wjj^i^:
i,fe^^^i^^i«..»-wNj«^^ .-v;' l^g*i-»a-iff'*^^ :
I
A
BftSa-.-"!-!" rttr^'-'t:-
01 d onto him. But they wore a hejap
too big, and he shucked'em off directly
and made for a dry branch down in the
bottom. Then he hunted five little
rocks, smooth as a hen's egg, p.utjemjin_
a litile bag where he carried his sn4ck
whe 1 he was a-tending the sheep, got
his ' ling fixed all right, and hurried jup
to meet the old bigfeller in the medder
lot. '
pow
fellej
fellej
keptj
big
littlj
When he seed him comin' he vfas
srful mad they'd sent down such a
rand jawed awfuL But the little
: jest talked back religious, aud
his eyes peeled. An' I reckon jbhe
feller couldn't abe'n lookin'; for the
feller got out his sling and drew
awaiy and shied a little rock at hkm,
and
blecj,
and
he popped him and down he turn-
Then the little feller rushed] up
mounted, jest as   an old huiiter
lov( s to get on a b'ar after he shot him
and he out with the big fellers lbng
swe rd and off with his head. Then it
was them Philistine sinners' turn to be
ske ;red, and they broke for the briish;
and all of them ehil'en of Israel fevers
jest shouted and eha&e&Jem clean over
the mountain into a valley, and then
con 'd back and got all their camp plunder j
1 [y brethrin, that's the best sfcor**
a fi jht I ever read after, and you
buj no better story book nor this
Bit le.—Dr. Piersons' Reminiscences
j l medical society in Ghicago has} "ex-
.ed a member for the gross offense
jublishinghiscardin a newspaper
an* i paying for it. But probably half
the members of that society every *ime
th( y set a bone or dress the wound of a
p&i son injured in the street, rush to the
nearest newspaper office to secure
grs ttuitous mention of the fact in* the
local columns. When you get djown
to he narrow of it, it is not advertising
bu 5 paying for advertisements, thajt the
J m* dieal societies expel a man for.
1
_/
^
•^
s
^\
^{Vj s-xr-rf-as-sr.:-^ Z3XZS?:'
X?^JZZX^^ZJXZ&<
B