McHenry Public Library District Digital Archives

McHenry Plaindealer (McHenry, IL), 20 Feb 1884, p. 6

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TSU AKP aatim ywr«M»T«* ' EBL4%k; ftatamofmirtk, ioWlfUPNM IkwdrtreH «p man's portion oa aartE. "To« tn rather never*, tie to the Tear:§| "Fief d«T. to shine briehv miShia iMkinmuoliHgn, nwt be bartered with gbuSMMS liibt of a Smile, is » while. a tear to mbonn Its •adaaaaJf, a vaat primeval w iM My batr-dMaj-ing cabin atoblfe,.̂ . It* walla wen aomy. ud to floor With fltaia aad anald WM darkened Jpfe Thereta Idwe)t, aleef fqpmoare. Alone with ffeaciea sweet and rate. lion*alter dawn I lay In bed And beard the woodpecker overhead Beat on the roof hie rattllng oall. And heard the window-waves r«e a Whilst (Tom afar, worn keen and thin. Faint memories of the world came in. Ataooa the wood was atnuurety still* Ho fllutterin# wine, no tapping bill; Shadow aad ransltfae atdo by elde L •«? Drowned in altxn atoies and vldSa* wi|& Km the brook's voioe, rieh and full, Seemed alowly lapsing to a lull. ' ;*i' Whea night oame on, the owl came tW$ > , "Hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo-oo-oo?*- - And sly taint footfalls, here and theit^ BHamyadttoe hesitating hare; wlrflat tn the tree-tope, daric and dm" The wind aighed as a child asleep. Pay-time or night-time, all was wellfc S : With light or clew God's blessings fi Fee ooarser dre«ms I bad no room. My hrart wac like a lily bloen, Aad every sons I santrwaa sweet Mm the bine violets at my feet. Bat at the last, all unaware, Ualaeky bird! 1 touched the snare, And (ta tlw city's mesbe* wound) * My cabin never more I found. « «.« Nor that sweet solitude where naught. Bare Nature, helped me when 1 wrought Maftrice Thompson, in Harper's Maqtuine. f-'S m SHERIDAN'S RIDE. E. Iirdock Describes the RMe Winchester and Tells qfcpr Bead's Poem Came to be „4 *» Written. It was the night before the battle of 'fjCtedar Greek. In the war office at • * '• ^Washington eat Mr. Stanton in close venation with General Phil Sheri- There -were some grave questions g discussed between them, for the .lk lasted long after midnight. Gen­ eral Thomas £. Eckert, superintendent ggrf military telegraph lines, was in an ^adjoining room watching for sounds of |tlarm from the front or important tele- ams from any of the advancing armies the field. A new day was fast ap­ ing the dawn and the war rnin- and the general still continued f their earnest conversation. A click of \ fhe instrument caught General Eckert's ,' , ' ^»ar. It was Winchester calling the K;W|prar office. His skilled haad touched j, key in ready response and a mo- «nent later the words came: j , -l.' "There is danger here. Hurry Sheri- ',.<L ( flan to the front." Quick as flash the message was hand- *» ®d to the two men in the next room in , ,.. #loae consultation about the campaign * 4a Shenandoah Valley. Sheridan went to the instrament, and there was a mo- V Ineot of hurried talk over the wires be- v??fweea him and his headquarters, When Uecretary Stanton gave directions to „* - ©eneral Ecker t to telegraph the rail- ; to»d authorities of the Baltimore and Ohio to clear the road and to at once provide relays of special engines to '*-lake Sheridan to the scene of the com- •» <<• I"!® battle as fast as steam could carry ' v him. "i General Eckert worked the wire himself, and gave hurried directions to > the railroad officials aa to what to do in ghia emergency. While he sat with his |aad <Ht the key perfecting the train arrangements, Stanton and Sheridan : • fcad a few hurried final words, each countenance bearing the marks of earn- «stness,not unmingled with anxiety. Ifhe train schedule was soon made, Sheridan left the war office, and was driven to the station with all possible ipeed. A panting engine had just Af |>aeked in as he arrived, and jumping •board, the engineer, instructed te make r f JHte relay house in the shortest possible ^lime, pulled the starting-bar, and away *r iped the train. It had a clear track •aid reached its destination, thirty miles : Hg§way, in much less than an hour. Here ^ An engine of the main line stood waiting ? , |o take him to Harper's Ferry, seventy ' failea beyond. There wore no obstruc- ""p tionaall the way up. Every moving train had been aide-tracked and every 'iher precaution taken to prevent acci- t to the on-rusliing engine bearing heridan .to the camp where his asrny .y. While this train was making its all was anxiety in the war office, very telegraph station reported its progress to Gen. Eckert, and he to Secretary Stanton, who still lingered * that he might know when Sheridan Reached his destination. Three hours passed--dull, anxious flours to those waiting, every moment |bf which seemed laden with Jead. Harper's Ferry at last reports iSheridan's arrival, and a fresh engine i^rtood ready to carry him to Winchester, thirty miles up the valley. Not a mo­ ment is lost at the hamlet among the *• rocka when Sheridan boards the wait­ ing messenger, and, an hour later, word speeds over the wire, "Sheridan just % : . reached Winchester." The run had "been made in the quickest time ever < • known on the road, and the worn and ; anxiou* officials at the war office breathed a sigh of relief as the click of the telegraph announced that the jour- t ney had been completed. |p- Eighteen or perhaps twenty miles of turnpike stretched away up the charm- I"' ,," *D6* valley that had been made desolate - by the torch and tramp of armies. As ttr*' that charming region, clad in the garb »/ • pf summer, lay between the mountains, ' rts bright colors reflected in the rays a ' beautiful sunshine, it Was but a sad re- "T'. m*uder of the once great granary that f<>r more than three years of conflict had furnished untold supplies to the ' ' v Confederate army. Sheridan had laid , it waste. He had clinched with and \\ ^>eft^on Kirly at Winchester, and while r "i° was being carried with all possible gpeed back to the scene of his opera- nms, the tide of battle was ebbing and •owing upon a new field, and the fate Of the day hung trembling in the bal- iMMMh For several weary, doubtful Isaacs the two armies had been in dead fy conflict. When Sheridan arrived at Winchester the roar of artillery and the roll of musketry could be distinctly heard from the field of carnage along Cedar Oeek. Down the valley came the awful din, echoing louder and louder through the still summer air up the bat- «Le grew fiercer. K4' Thsre waabut short delay at Win­ chester, the ohisf town of ̂ he foiar valley. Thwe - SlMrufan moanted hia favorite war hog*e. a large, beamtifol auiewjc, hfaMk 'dMNfger, whe 'ha4'.ihwnM his auirter through the heirt of many conffiets. He is dead now aad his body haa been preserved, thai men jet to come may see the animal whose endur­ ance has been recorded in verse. Through the town and out over the turnpike that leads up the Shenandoah, Sheridan rode. Who, knowing the man, or aught of his character, cannot, Eioture the restless rider urging his orse to the best to reach the field where the fate of his army waa still pending in the haz&rd of war ? He had only covered a few miles when the mov­ ing mass of debris that always surges to the rear of a battle Held when the oonflict is severe and doubtfnl, met his trained eye and told more plainly than words what was going on in front. It was a signal of distress, and none knew it better than he. The sight fired his heart anew and only added fresh im­ petus to his foaming horse. He reached the field after a sleepless night and a terrific journey, and the battle of Cedar Creek was won. This is the trne story of Sheridan's ride--I might almost say official story. If he did not stop to gather the strag­ glers, as a poet's license has pictured, he did carry back the tide that was floating to the rear, because his pres­ ence had given fresh stamina to some wavering battalions. The manner of the men, his dash and courage, his rep­ utation and successes, all combined to give heart to those who had drifted back, believing the battle had been lost. I have been sitting face to face to-day, the whole afternoon, with the man who vouches for the above written words. He<i8 a strong, positive character, just passing three score and ten years, crowded with wonderful experiences. As he told this story, he warmed with the fire of the event, and his blood was hot with indignation,for he had jnst read a statement that Sheridan got drunk at Winchester and did not get to the bat­ tlefield, where the poet's pen has pic­ tured him. "Ah, but 111 put an end to all cavil about this story," said he. "What I have told you I got directly from Gen­ eral Eckert himself, who sat with his hand on the key, arranged and watched every stage of Sheridan's ride, from Washington to Cedar Creek. He now manages the Western Union Telegraph company, and will bear witness to these facts. But I have a letter from Sheri­ dan. He and I were then, and are now, friends. When I heard of this ride, I wrote to ask him about it, and to inquire if I had not ridden the same horse that carried him up the valley while with him at Chattanooga. Mr. Murdoch soon found among his papers the iden­ tical letter which General Sheridan wrote in reply. I need not tell you how highly it is prized," said the veteran, "for you will see how carefully it has been kept through all these years." "Who is there who has read this country's history that does not know James E. Murdoch--the actor, the reader, the mag. It is he who tells this story and fttrmslies this clinching evi­ dence of the truthful foundation of T. Bnchanan Bead's poem. Thousands who have watched his matchless repre­ sentation of Hamlet, or sat under the spell of his dramatic readings, will be glad to know that, although he is pass­ ing 73, he is still in excellent health and spirits. He is a tall, robust man, with a clean shaven face that shows the broad, distinct lines of his strong coun­ tenance to the best advantage. His wealth of iron-gray hair and his gen­ eral carriage combine to make him a very striking character. "Although an old man when the war was going on, he spent a great deal of time w|th the army in connection with the sanitary commission and in the hos­ pitals. He was a favorite at the head­ quarters of many generals, and wit­ nessed a great deal of the inner feat­ ures of army life. The story of Sheridan's ride, above written, was but a tithe of the good things he told me. The recital of this matter naturally led up to all the inci­ dents connected with i£ "I was not with Sheridan," he said, "at this time, but was at the head­ quarters of the Army of the Cumber­ land. Soon after the battle of Cedar Creek I came up to Cincinnati and was visiting Mr. Cyrus Garrett, whom we called 'Old Cyclops.' He was T. Bu­ chanan Bead's brother-in-law, and with him the poet made his home. The ladies of Cincinnati had arranged to give me a reception, that finally turned into an ovation. I had given a great many readings to raise funds to assist their Soldiers' Aid Society, and they were going to present me with a silk flag. Pike's Opera House had been se­ cured, the largest place of amusement in the city, and they had made every ar­ rangement to have the reception a very dramatic event. The morning of the day it was to take place Bead and I were, as usual, taking our breakfast late. We had just finished, but were sitting at the table chatting. Mr. Gar­ rett, the brother-in-law, who was a busi­ ness man and guided bv business liab- its, came in while we were thus loung­ ing. He wore an air of impatience and carried a paper in his hand. He walked directly up to read, unfolded a copy of Harper's Weekly, and held it up before the man so singularly gifted as both poet and painter. "The whole front of the paper was covered with a striking picture repre­ senting Sheridan seated on his black horse, just emerging from a cloud of dust that rolled up from the highway as he dashed along, followed by a few troopers. " 'There,' said Mr. Garrett, address­ ing Bead, 'see what you have missed. You ought to have drawn that picture yourself and gotten the credit of it; it is just in your line. The first thing you know somebody will write a poem on that event, and then you will be beaten all around.' "Bead looked at the picture rather quizzically, a look which I interrupted by saying: 'Old Cyclops is right, Bead, the subject and the circumstanoe are worth a poem.' " 'Oh, no,' said Bead, 'that theme has been written to death. There is "Paul Bevere's Bide," "Lochinvar," Tom Hood's "Wild Steed of the Plains" and half a dozen other poems of like char­ acter.' "Filled with the idea that this was a good chance for the gifted man, I said: 'Bead, you are losing a grfeat oppor­ tunity. If I had such a poem to read at my reception to-night, it would make a great hit.' "But, Murdoch, yon oan't order a poem as you would a coat. I can't write anything in a few hours that will do either you or me any credit,' he re­ plied rather sharply. "I turned to him and said: 'Bead, two or three thousand of the wannest heerts<ta Oinctenati will be in Pike's opera house to-night at ' tint presenta­ tion. It will be a very dgattcant af • tlibt hMMaa ana l will iivt it <aib> liveranee before that spfendid audi­ ence, and ytth can then reviMT and pol­ ish it before it goes .into print.' This view seemed to strike him favorably, and he finally said: 'Well! Well! Well see what can be done, and he went upstairs to his room. "A half hoar later Hattie, ha wife, a brilliant woman, who is now redding in Philadelphia, came down and said: " 'He wants a pot of strong tea. He told me to get it for him and then he would lock the door and must not be disturbed unless the house was afire.' "Time wore on and in our talk on other matters in the family circle, wo had almost forgotten the poet upstairs. Dinner had been announced and -we were about to sit down, when Bead came in and beckoned me to come. When I reached the room, he said: " 'Murdock, I think I have about what you want.' -He read it to me, and with an enthusiasm which surprised him, I said it was just the thing. "We dined, and at the proper time, Bead and I, with the family, <arent to Pike's Opera House. The* building was crowded in every part. Upon the stage were sitting 200 maimed soldiers, each with an am or a leg off. General Joe Hooker was to present me with the flag the ladies had made, and at the time appointed we marched down the stage toward the footlights, General Hooker bearing the flag, and I with my arm in his. Such a storm of %pplause as greeted the appearance 1 never heard before or since. Behind and on each side of us were the rows of crin- plcd soldiers, in front of the vast audi­ ence, cheering to the echo. Hooker quailed before the warm reception, and, growing nervous, said tA me in an undertone: " 'I can stand the storm of battle, but this is too much for me.' " 'Leave it to me,' said I; 'I'm an old hand behind the footlights. I will di­ vert the strain from you.' So, quickly I dropped upon my knee, took a fold of the silken flag and pressed it to my lips. This by-play created a fresh storm of enthusiasm, but steadied Hooker, and he presented the flag very gracefully, which I accepted in fitting words. "Ithen drew the poem Bead had written from my pocket, and, with proper introduction, began reading it to the audience. The vast assemblage be­ came as still as a church during prayer- time, and I read the first three lines without a pause, and then read the fourth: "Under his spurning feet the road Like an arrowy Alpine river flowed, And the landscape bowed away behind. Like an ocean dying before the wind; And the steed, like a bark, fed with fur­ nace-ire Swept on with his wild eyes full of fire; But lo! he is nearinar liis heart's desire. He is snufflner the smoke of the roaring fray With Sheridan only live miles away. "As this verse was finished the audi­ ence broke into a tumult of applause." Then I read with all the spirit I could command: "The first that the general saw were the jrronps Of stragglers, and then the retreating troops; What was done--what to do--a glance tola him both. And striking his spurs with a terrible oath. He dashed down the lines 'mid a storm of hurrah9, And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because The sight of the master compelled it to pause, i fot With foam and with dust the black charger was gray, By the flash of his eyes and his nostrils' play He seemed to the whole army to say, 'I have brought you Sheridan all the way From Winchester town to save the day.' "The sound of my voice uttering the last word had not died away when cheer after cheer went up from the great concourse that shook the build­ ing to its very foundation. Ladies waved their handkerchiefs and men their hats, until worn out with the fervor of the hour. They then demanded the author's name and I pointed to Bead, who was sitting in a box, and he ac­ knowledged the verses. In such a set­ ting and upon such an occasion as I have been able only faintly to describe to you, the poem of Sheridan's ride was given to the world. It was written in about three hours, and not a word was ever changed after I read it from the manuscript, except the addition of the third verse, which records the fif­ teen mile stage of the ride. "But there's a road from Winchester town, A good, broad highway, leading down; And there, thro' the flash of the morning A 8teed*as black as the steeds of night Was seen to pass as with eagle flight; As if he knew the terrible need, c. He stretched away with the utmost speed; Hills rose and fell--but his heart was gay. With Sheridan, fifteen miles away. "This Mr." Bead wrote while on his way, shortly after I first read the poem, to attend a birthday reception to William Cullen Bryant. "Mr. Bead read the poem, thus com­ pleted, at Mr. Bryant's birthday party. The great old man listened to every line of it, and then taking the younger poet by the hand, said with great warmth: '"That poem will live as long as Lioch- invar'." -Philadelphia Press. Hew te Treat a Burned FiMa. 1. Turn the hose on him. 2. If the cuticular integument be not broken, make a mixture of sweet oil, vaseline, molasses, and soft soap, and bathe the affected part with a cloth dipped in the mixture. 3. If the cuticular integument be broken, make a mixture of alcohol, rum, oxalic acid, and cayenne pepper, and squirt the affected part with it by means of a syringe. 4. It should be noticed that the pro­ portions in which these liquids are mixed makes no difference. No doctor who really loves his profession ever descends to such trifles. 5. Bind a tourniquet about the part affected. Of course every, one knows what that is. 6. Bead to him Mr. Arnold's essay on "Numbers" to serve as an anesthetic. 7. If he have nothing of value about him, leave your card in his pocket after he is anscsthetixed, that he may have the satisfaction of knowing who his benefactor is.--New York Life. Work every hour, paid or unpaid; see only that thou work, and thou canst not escape thy reward. Whether thy work be fine or coarse, planting corn or writing epics, so only it be honest work, done to thine own approbation it shall earn a reward to the senses as well as to the thought. No matter how often defeated, you are born to victory. The reward of a thing well done is to have done it.--Emerson. CONSUMPTIVES are cured in France by visiting the wine-presses and in­ haling the fumes of the fermenting juice. Sometimes, at first, they become intoxioated and are borne away sense-* The imagination makes a good many peonle took. A Whitewater gentleman started frtim his home one morning af­ ter breakfikt, for his offloe, and on the W«ar down towa he lelt a sharp pain in liis hack, aad he shuddered at the thought of a spinal difficulty taking possession of him. He felt the pain again, and he thought of several cases he had known where healthy men were stricken down in a moment, and he wondered if tie would live to get to his office. He thought over his affiurs, and felt that the settlement of his estate would cause a great deal of annoyance, He heaved a sigh of relief as he reached his office alive, and sat down in his ohair, when the sharp pain took him a a few inches lower down, and he turned Kle, and told those in the office how felt, and .they all thought he should do something for it at once. He pulled through the forenoon, arranging his papers so that his executors could find them handy, and not having any appe­ tite he did not go home to dinner. In the afteritoon he consulted a doctor, and told his symptoms, and the doctor looked at his tongue and shook his head in such a manner that made the patient's heart heavy. The doctor gave him four kinds of medicine, to be taken before and after eating, and between meals, and told the man for heaven's sake to get home as quick as possible, and after-taking a hot bath, to go to bed at once. The poor sufferer called n friend who was in a cutter, and asked to be taken home, as a last request, and the friend took him home, feeling that it would be the last time he would ever see the sick man on earth. The doctor helped him into the cutter, aud the pain was simply terrible, a short, prick­ ling sensation that made his hair stand. The man got into his house alive, and told his symptoms to his wife, and she felt that she was soon to be a widow, but she helped him all that was possible, turning on the water in the bath room, and rubbing his back, on which she found marks that told plainly how he had suffered. The man was helped into l>ed, some had toast and tea pre­ pared for him, and after taking his medicine the pain seemed to cease, and as the shades of night were falling he fell into a refreshing sleep. The good wife had the marks on her husband's back impressed on her mind, and could (lot get them off, and finally she took his pants and looked inside the draw­ ers, and found a needle hitched to a thread about a foot long, with which she had 6ewed a button on his drawers the night before, and left it there. The needle had stuck into the man's back in half a dozen different places, and he had been made sick in his mind, from imagination. She was a judicious woman and did not wake her husband and tell him she had discovered the Spinal meningitis, knowing he would be mad. and want to get right up and play euchre. So she kept a sober face when he woke up, stroked his head and told him to keep quiet and he would come out all right. She changed the medi­ cine and gave him flour and salt in its place, at the proper time, and he slept nicely till morning, and said he thought he would have a barber come up and shave him. The wife told him to wait till afternoon and maybe he would be able to go down town, and so he got up and sat around the house all the fore­ noon. The doctor called at noon, and the wife took him into the parlor and told him about the needle, but begged him not to tell her husband. So the doctor went up to the room, felt of the patient's pnlse, looked at his tongue, ana asked about the pain. On being told that the pain had not been felt since the bath and the medicine was taken, the doctor said the crisis was over, and if the pa­ tient could manage, to take a little nourishment he would pull through. The doctor asked him if he didn't think he could relish a little beef tea, or chicken broth, and the poor man, who had not eaten enough to keep a chickeu alive since the morning before, said he could eat like a harvest hand. He said he wanted4 roast beef and potatoes, and succotash, and pie, and everything. The doctor smiled and said that was a good indication, and told the patient to go down to dinner, and if he could suc­ ceed in getting anything to stay on his stomach that he could go down to busi­ ness in the afternoon. The man ate all there was in sight, and when he got up from dinner he felt likea new man, and took a cigar and went down town, and he felt so well he wanted to run a foot race with some boys He told them at the office thet he had probably had the narrowest escape of any man in the world, but that the doctor had pulled him through, and he would always swear by that doctor. The good wife has got that needle saved, and she feels that some day she may be able to mus­ ter up oourage enough to tell her hus­ band about his spinal meningitis, though she knows he is a bold, bad man, and he might become desperate and do something rash.--Peck's Sun. The Name California. The origin of many of the names given to old cities and countries has been lost in the midst of antiquity, and doubt is already thrown upon some of those of modern times. The city of San Francisco derives its present name from the bay on which it is situated, but the first, and now well-nigh forgotten one, was Yerbabuena, as it was called by the Mexicans before the inroads of our adventurous countrymen, who could see no reason for maintaining it when they looked about on the sand dunes, and found scarcely a blade of ijood grass. But they were mistaken in the meaning of the word. Yerba­ buena signifies peppermint, an herb to which Mexican women attach a special importance in their domestic economy. Thus, in the future, when this fact be­ comes more widely known, other nick­ named towns may retort upon San Francisco, by fastening upon it the name of Peppermint City. As to the State of California, a majority of the people seem to fancy that it is so called from a combination that denotes some­ thing that is beautiful. An eminent authority (Webster) goes still further out of the way when he supposes the first syllable to be derived from Ca­ liph, implying very indirectly that the country is*a sort of Mohammedan para­ dise. Throwing the Greek and Arabic theories aside as unworthy of consider­ ation, we find the truth in an old man­ uscript in the arcliieves of the church at Santa Barbara, written by Juan Itod- riguez de Cabrillo, one of the early ex­ plorers, who, in 15-12, followed the coast up further than Cortez did seven years before. Cabrillo says: "Cortez and his companions, struck by the differ­ ence between the dry "and burning heat they experienced, compared with the moist and less oppressive heat of the Mexican tierra caliente, first gave to a bay, and afterward to the country, the name of Tierra California, derived from Calida Fornax, signifying fiery fur­ nace." What bay it was does not appea*, but presumably it wa* |j* Pi Cape St. Lucas, as (kites ered' only the barren peninsula of Lower Caiifelmia,. along the wstern coast of wbidrtfcfve are tk> harbors, and he must have landed at the ex­ treme southern point. Had he pro­ gressed as far as Santa Barbara, or even not beyond San Diego, he would have found some more appropriate name for the lovely land which is here so .unjustly burdened with a misno­ mer.--Los Angeles Letter in New York Evening Post The Squatter at the Theater. Old Josh JJuckleyham, who brought fifteen mink skins and a bear hide to the city, accompanied a fun-loving ac­ quaintance to the theater, where, with swelling emotions, he witnessed a thril­ ling rendition of Biehard III. Of course he knew nothing of the play's history, and looked upon the affair as a new invention of Yankee ingenuity. "What do you think of that fellow?" asked the squatter's friend, indicating Duke Biehard. , "Putty j peart fur a feller that's got the rheumatism like he seems to have it. He's a putty good talker an' mout make a good constable, but he wouldn't be no great shakes at a log rollin'," and he placed his elbows on his knees, and gazed intently. When the duke stopped the funeral procession, the old fellow turned to his friend, and said: "He ain't got no more respeck fur a weepin' widder woman than a houn' dog has for hen aigs, has he?" "Hush, don't talk. Don't you see those folks turning around and looking at you ?" "Kain't hep it. Man's got a right to talk in this country. Now what's he goin' to do ? Blame ef he ain't a courtin' the widder. Wall, I will be dad blamed ef he ain't got the imperdence Ole Nick hisself. She ain't restin' so mighty easy on what he's sayin', though. Did yer hear that ? Putty sensible woman even ef she does w'ar that pot-lookin' thing on the top o' her head. Wimmin ain't such fool s as some folks think. Now she's givin' it to him right. Wlfat, is he goin, to stab hisself with that sword ? No, dinged if he is!" "Hush, I tell you," said the friend, "if you don't a policeman #ill come around and take us both out." "He mout take you -out, podner, but blamed of I'd go, lessen I wanted to. I ain't cuttin' up none. I ain't in church, I ain't a disturbin o' public worship. What do you take me fur? The lame chap ain't a goin' to give up, an' dinged if he ain't backed all o' them down. I ain't drunk quite enough whisky to get at the worm rail o' this here affair, an' wish I had another drink. Got a bot­ tle summers in my hind pocket. Here she is; want to take a pull?" "For gracious sake, man, don't drink here. Put that bottle back." "I'll drink anywhars, cap'n. I'm an old Baptist, an' I don't <Arawl into a hole when I want to drink, do you under­ stand ? Ef them fokes aroun' here doan want none, well an' good, an' let 'em keep their mouths shet. Yonder's the Governor. Bet he'd take a drink with me. Here's to yer. Ah, ar!" and with a loud screak he screwed the stopper back into the bottle. "The rheumatic chap is still tuggin' away. What, blame if she ain't weakenin'. Wall, .dog my cats. That's jes' the way with wimmin. My wife was the widder Goose tree afore I married her, an' the first time I ever went to see her blame ef she didn't fling a skillet over the fence at me. The next time she flung a churn-dasher, and the next time she flung a chip. Then she tuck up a han'ful o' leaves an' flung 'em, an' bless yer, the next time she invited me in to sop sorghum 'lasses. Oh, us men is a power in the lan'." "Od zouns," they're at it like fightin' yallar jackets. Mr. Bheumatism is givin' the young buck all he wants. Gee whiz, how the fire fiies! Thar!" he ex­ claimed, as Bichmond's sword, by dra­ matic courtesy, is supposed to do re­ tributive work. "Hello, he's got it under his arm, he's got it under his arm." An annoyed man who sat immediately in front of the squatter turned and con­ temptuously said: "Whare the devil would you expeot him to have it, through his body, you blame fool!" 'That's a fack," replied the squatter, as the curtain went down. "It would'nt do to kill him off sho' nuff. Wall, ef the thing's busted, I reckon I'll go, too. Thar's a lot o' Yankees moved to my neighborhood, an' blamed ef I don't 'low to have 'em git up one o' these muster arrangements in the school- house. But I coulder tuck a hoe han­ dle an' mauled either one o' them fellers offen the platform--Ark. Traveler The Sale of Wooden Babies. The Pittsburgh Dispatch says that in 1874 crying babies--that is wooden babies that cried real natural--were in­ vented by a smart French woman who didn't like to go out without something in her arms, and didn't want to l>e both­ ered with a baby that was sensitive to pin-stabs or colic. It soon became fashionable among the aristocracy of England to leave their babies at home and carry the wooden substitute. The latter could be dressed more elegantly than a real kicker or spitter. Follow­ ing is an extract from a circular issued by a firm manufacturing the dummies: "Common traveling infants, yielding in­ termittent cries of fear and capable of being put into the pocket, 10s; second class, crying not to loudly, but lament­ ably and insupportably, 20s; third class, full squallers, with a very pierc­ ing and aggravating voice of five oo- taves, £2; the same, arranged as a prompt repeater, £2 6d; fifth class, first quality, capable of continued squalling, £3, These babies cannot only be set going in a moment (as in­ deed, can most living ones), but they can also be stopped as quioklv, which the natural ones cannot." Her First Poem. Miss Karolaway sent her first poetical effort--in fact, her first literary at­ tempt--to a paper published in her own city. It is needless to say she was quite gratified at seeing her poem ap­ pear soon after. While desirous that the fact of her writing it should not be known, Miss K. longed to know what might be thought of her poem by an unprejudiced reader. "By-tlie-way," she said to a friend who happened in one morning, "I've been sort of inter­ ested in this little poem that came out in the Journal a day or two ago; it's by --;-- "Oh, I've read lots of her things," said the seoond young lady, who had a dread of seeming not posted --"lots and lots of them. • She writes stacks, you know." Miss K. thought it needless to continue in so unprofitable a quarter. People add to their troubles by an­ ticipating them. It is » good rule never to croaa a bridge until you come to it. iy understood ̂ t» owfeirto the differentia bnitd, all men cannot ride in e*«ct!y ^itenBce'-'lonn; each man has a seat eidaliar to himaeK.' and that that seat zshfciHbest for any pur­ pose, whether he be a I'mws IHHIIIII V or a road rider. The rider's aim should be to make himself a part of the ani­ mal he bestrides, \tt conforming to his movements and thereby assist in main­ taining the natural equilibrium of his body. Anything approaching exagger­ ation should be avoided. For example, rising to trot is a good thing, if properly done; in fact, one cannot ride very far or very fast without it; but why it is carried to the ridiculous extreme that it sometimes is, is difficult to under­ stand, unless those who adopt it acts upon the principle that if a little rise is a good thing a good deal is better. This lofty style, supposed to be En­ glish, is much caricatured in the coun­ try l>y the doubtful class of young men known as "dudes," who not being prop­ erly ballasted, are ready to rise to any­ thing that will make them conspicuous. In riding after this method the would- horseman, seated on the cantle of his saddle, with knees nearly on a level with the pommel, springs into the air with each second impulse of the gait with a spasmodic effort, to return again in due season with a bump that would cause a rattling in his "brain box," if there were anything there to rattle. This style of rider has been aptly de­ scribed as a "walking beam on horse­ back, between whom and the saddle peeps of the distant landscape comes transiently at tantalizing intervals."' The saadle has much to do with de­ termining what position one shall as­ sume on horse-back, hence the impor­ tance of having it properly'constructed and adjusted. Supposing the saddle to be one that will allow you to sit in a natural, easy position, then shake your­ self down into it, place your thighs in the position which gives you the firmest hold on your horse's sides and adjust your stirrups at that length. Bear in mind that the seat on horseback is maintained by balance and friction and you must combine the two in such a manner as not to make the effort fa­ tiguing if you would sit securely and well. While as much of the thigh is to be brought in contact with the saddle as possible, flie leg below the knee should be altogether out of contact and free to move as the rider finds neces­ sary. Learn to balance the upper part of the body on the hips, in the varying movements of the horse, without dis­ turbing the position of the thighs' or depending in the slightest degree on the reins. It is well to practice on some old horse that can't be spoiled, using a snaffle until you feel quite at home in the saddle and can handle the reins with delicacy. If your stirrnps are too short or too far forward you will find yourself tugging at the reins when­ ever your horse makes an unexpected movement. These defects should be corrected, for a rough handling of the bit soon spoils the horse's mouth, and once he becomes a puller there is an end to all pleasure in riding him. Very few horses can be ridden satis­ factorily without a curb-bit, and this requires more delicate handling still than the snaffle. A very good way to hold the reins in riding the trained horse is to pass the little finger of the left hand between the curb-reins and the middle finger between the snaffle- reins, the ends passing up over the thumb when the hand is closed. While training the horse, carry the curb-ieins in the left hand and the snaffle-reins in the right, divided by the width of the hand. Teach your 'horse to turn ,from the pressure of the curb-rein agaiust his neck, accompanying it at first with the customary pull of the snaffle on the side toward which you wish to turn. Collect your horse be­ fore reaching the point you wish to turn, and apply the left leg in turning to the right and the right in turning to the left. Teach your horse to walk rapidly; it is a gait that always "tells" and can be continued a long time with­ out great fatigue. "The walk is the gallop of always," say the Arabs, and there is much truth in the saying. A good way to teach a horse to take a quick, long step is to touch him with the left spnr, after he has become accus­ tomed to it, as explained in former articles, just after he lifts his right fore­ foot, and with the right spur when he lifts his left fore foot. This will mttkg him pick up his hind feet quickly and reach well forward before he plants them. • Finally, give the boys a chance to become fearless riders. Youth is the time when physical habits are formed, and when one has been accustomed to use the saddle from boyhood, equestri­ anism is a part of his nature, and he never feels more at home than when on horseback. The hope of the saddle- horse is in the rising generation. If ,the practice is delayed until we are forced into it as a cure for dyspepsia or consumption, and the saddle comes to be regarded as a sort of hospital --the last resort of a decaying race--it will certainly not fill its proper plaoe in our social economy. If the boys would ride more there would be less con­ sumption and dyspepsia to cure. This is a pleasant prophylactic, for the boy takes to the horse instinctively. The taste has been handed down to him from a horse-loving ancestry. He will have some hobby, and why not let him ride honestly? Give him every chance to acquire the manly art of equi­ tation. < He will be a hardier and braver man, and will have one accomplishment which will prove a joy to him through life.--Philadelphia Press. Growth of Trees. Careful observations have shown the following to be about the average growth in twelve years, of several va­ rieties of hard wood, when planted in groves and cultivated: White Maple A«HC LEAF Maple or Box Elder.. White Will w Lombard? Poplar.. Blue and White Aon.'. Dlack Walnut and Butternut... M 13 » 10 10 Fett 30 38 40 96 39 It Gains by Travel. The Husbandman has discovered that Jersey cider has always been in the habit of going to Europe and re­ turning genuine champagne. Now we hear that sausages mtw.e in Chicago have taken to traveling and return to this country the genuine Frankfort article at twice their American value. Thus we see foreign airs assumed by inanimate as well as living travelers. WHEN your friend is married put your good wishes into the shape of an old English saying: "One year of joyJ another of comfort, and all the rest of content." THEBE is said to be 3 cents worth o( void in every ton of MA water. -- -- -- • unprofitable"-- trantetlNUNlllr*"-" STROMXJ UP J|GOJ|D ooaoert ritohU .The cat that V IT is only after a ' RIPNfel$|j|f|||pe thil a play writer can produce a iieUdir drama. A MUTUAf' admiration dtetQty---4. handsome preacher and a congregation of women. NOAH was the first man who coo|j| justly claim the distinction of taking a forty days' buggy ride. POLITENESS is the cheapest commodi­ ty in the market Don't call a man a bar. Merely intimate that he is a Congressman. SOME men are born great, some wrestle with the parlor store, MEN! some have the charge of a kitchen fill thrust upon them. THEBE is not the slightest doubt that this country was originally discovered by British dudes. The American Indi­ an parts his hair in the middle avd stares stolidly at stringers. " IF vou should see a poor, half-starred fellow m the street," said Judge Spilkin to his little son, one day after dinner, "wouldn't you give him a pieoe of your oake?" "I should rather give him * piece of yours," answered the boy. j ? LEAR passenger to a very fat one«*L- If the company did the right thing, they would charge fare by the hundred weight. Fat passenger--Don't advo- - cate that idea, for then they couldu't afford to carry such light weight pas­ sengers. A PBOFEBSOR of the Texas Uni­ versity was explaning to the close his views on • mind and matter. "Now," said he, "there is no doubt that mind existed a long time before matter, and yet mind can hardly be said to have existence, in the proper sense of the word. I refer to this cha'r or to my body as a thing of existence positive, because I feel it; I know it is there and can be seen. But, in refer­ ence to my mind"-- "That is non-ex­ istence," broke in a studant, antici­ pating the professor. [From Carl Prfctiel'a Weekly.! A LAND grabber--The gopher. INTEREST-INO things--Coupons. Do consulting physicians consult. IT vas a cold day vhen we got hot. THE place for the girls--In the gal­ lery. THE man with the bad temper had better lose it. * A CHioKEN-hearted man is always a henpecked husband. WHEN the strike of the boilermakefi occur there will be musio in the air. HE who wishes to secure the gooA will of others will always play it alone. AN honest politician is about as rare as a steak that has been hurried off the broiler. HE who rates himself before his wile will be apt to be rated by his wife, be­ fore others. You cannot attain fashionable relig­ ion in this city with an income of only $10.00 per week. THE man Avho wants his name kept out of the papers is advised to write poetry by the yard. IF you would be impudent be silent, there is more impudenoe in silence than in a bushel of potatoes. "GOOD-BY sweet tart good bye," he exclaimed sadly, rushing from the luneh room, as he saw his train moving off. NOTHING can be more useful to a lad* or gentleman than knowledge. Kno\«t- edge will lead a man around the cornet, and a woman on the narrow guage rail­ way. , Land Birds in Mid-Oceaa. The appearance of some of the small­ er varieties of migratory birds, such as sparrows, swallows, doves, etc., several hundred miles away from the nearest land is bv no means an unusual occur­ rence on the ocean. About these little erratic visitors there are some curious and interesting facts. Their appear­ ance is almost always one at a time, though I have known a considerable number,representing, perhaps, as many different varieties, to accumulate in the course of a day. It is usually, though not always, in Btormy or unsettled weather. The first curious fact about these birds is that they never appear to be tired out; whereas birds are often met with near the land with their strength quite exhausted. A second curious fact about them is their preter­ natural tameness where there is no dog or cot on board, and the crew show no disposition to molest them, as exhib­ ited by their apparently seeking, rather than avoiding, the presence of man. Another curious fact about them is the recovery of all their native wildness and their instinctive avoidance of man's presence on. approaching the land. The first time I noticed this fact was with a pair of olive-colored ring-doves, which, from their remarkable tameness and familiarity, I was led to believe had been born in a domestic state, and, per­ haps, on shipboard. I kept them in the skylight in the cabin, where they seemed to be quite contented; but, on approaching the land, they became the wildest of the wild. One of them escaped and Hew away. I succeeded in taking the other into Sort, where I gave it its liberty, 'ow, I am certain that these birds could not have been apprised of the approach to the land through the me­ dium of any of their ordinary senses. This curious circumstanoe led me to potice more particularly the conduct of Other varieties of these little wanderers tipon the ocean so far from their native habitat, and I find that they nearly all exhibit, to a greater or less extent, the iny curiam characteristics,--J&r. -- • A Deceiver. A gentleman, who was closely wrap­ ped in a fur coat, surmounted by a cap to match, took a seat in a railroad car by the side of a lady. He made several attempts to draw her into conversation, but without avail. At last he ex­ claimed: "Madam, why are you so ungracious? Do you take me for a wolf in sheep'a clothing?" "No; quite the reverse,"answered the lad^rexas Siftings. ,k Recent Deckle*. ' The Postoffice Department has de­ cided that the mere fact of a person taking from a postoffice a newspaper stint to him without being ordered from the publisher does not make the re­ cipient liable for payment of the same. We seldom contemn mankind tilt they have injured us, and when they have, we seldom do anything but detest them, ior the injury.--Bttlwer. .-'V

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