HENRY A. TARSONS, Jr., Editor and Publisher
KLK COUNTY TJIi RKPUDI.IGAN PARTY.
Two Dollars per Awnum.
VOL. I.
RIDGWAY, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 29, 1871.
NO. 18.
OVER TUB HILL TO THE POOH-HOISE
Br WILt M. CARLITOX.
Over the hill to the poor-house I'm trudgln
mv wearv wav
I, a woman ol seventy, and only a trifle gray
. I, who nm smart and chipper, lor all the years
r I've told,
As many another woman that's only half as
oiu.
Over the hill to the poor-house I can't quite
make it clear!
Over the hill to the poor-house It seems so
noma queer I
Many a sten I'vo taken a-tollin1 to and fro.
But this Is a sort of journey I never thought
10 go.
What is the use of heapin' on me a paupcr'i
siiame r
Am I lazy or crazy 7 am I blind or lame 1
True, I'm not so supple, nor yet so awful
sioui ;
But charity ain't no favor, If one can live with'
out.
I am wlllln' nnd anxious on' ronriv mv Hut
To work for a decent llviu'.uu' pay my honest
For I can earn my victuals, an' more too, I'll
uu UUUUU,
If anybody only Is wllliu' to have mo round,
Once I was young an' han'some I was, upon
my soul
Oucc my cheeks was roses, my eyes as black
ub cuai ;
And I can't remember, In them days, of hear
in' Deonle Bay.
For any kiud of a reason, that I was la their
way.
'Taint no use of boostln', or talkln over free,
But many a house an' home was open then to
me ;
Many a han'somo offer I had from likelv men.
And nobody ever hinted thut I waa a burden
men.
And when to John I was married, sure he was
good and smart,
But, he and all the neighbors would own I
aone my pari ;
Fer life was all beforo me, an' I waa young an'
etronir.
And I worked the best that I could In tryin'
io get along.
And so we worked together; and life was
nara, out gay,
With now and then a baby for to cheer us on
our way ;
Till we had half a dozen, an' all growed clean
an' neat,
An went to school like others, an' had enough
io eat
So we worked for the chlld'rn, and raised 'em
every one j
Worked for 'em summer and winter, just as
we ought to 've done;
Ouly perhaps we humored 'em, which some
gooa ioiks condemn,
But every couple's child'rns a heap the best to
mem.
Strange how much we think of our blessed
little ones I
I'd have died for my daughters, I'd have died
for ray sons;
And God he made that rule of love ; but when
we're old and gray,
I've noticed It sometimes somehow falls to
work tho other way.
BCrauge, another thing: when our boys an'
girls was crown.
And when, exceptlu' Charley, they'd left us
there alone;
When John ho nearer an' nearer come, an'
dearer seemed to be,
The Lord of hosts be come one day an' took
min away irom me.
Still I was bound to struggle, an' never to
cringe or lull
Still I worked for Charley, for Charley was
now my all;
And Charley was pretty good to me, with
scarce a word or frown.
Till at last he went a-courtiu', and brought a
wue irom town.
She was somewhat dressy, an' hadn't a pleas
ant smile
She was quite concclty, and carried a heap of
styie ;
But It ever I tried to be friends, I did with
her I know :
But she was hard and proud, an' I couldn't
lnaito it go.
She had an education, an' that was good for
ner ;
But when she twitted me on mine, 'twas car-
ryin' tnings too tur ;
An' I told her ouce, 'fore company (an' It al
most made her sick).
Thut I never swallowed .a grammar, or 'et a
ritnuiciicK.
8o 'twas only a few days before the thing was
aoce
They was a family of themselves, and I an
other one ;
Aud a very little cottage oue family will do,
But I never have seen a house that was big
enough for two.
An' I never could speak to suit her, never
could please her eye,
An' it made me Independent, and then I didn't
try;
But I was terribly staggered, an felt It liko a
blow,
When Charley turned ag'ln me, an' told me I
could go.
I went to live with Susan, but fjusan's house
was 6mall,
Aud she was always a-hintln' how snug it was
for us all ;
And what with hor husband's sisters, aud what
with chlld'rn three,
'Twas easy to discover that there wasn't room
for me.
Au' then I went to Thomas, the oldest son I've
got,
For Thomas's buildings 'd cover the half of an
acre lot ;
But all the chlld'rn was on me-I couldn't
stand their sauce
And Thomas said I needn't think I was com
ing there to boss.
An' then I wrote to Rebecca, my girl who
lives out West,
And to Isaac, not far from her some twenty
miles at best ;
Aud one of 'em sold 'twas too warm there for
any one so old,
And t'other had on opinion the climate was
too cold.
Bo they have shirked and slighted me, an'
shifted me about
So they have well-nigh soured me, an' wore
my nld heart out ;
But still I've bore up pretty well, an' wasn't
much put down.
Till Charley went to the poor-master, an put
we on the town.
Over the hill to the poor-houso my chlld'rn
dear, good-by I
Many a night I've watched you when only
God was nigh ;
And God '11 judge between us : but I will al-
'ays pray
That you shall neTer eufTer the half I do to
day. JIarpcr'i Wtekly.
THE POET OF SIERRA. FLAT.
As the enterprising editor of the Sierra
Flat Record stood at his case setting type
tor bis next week s paper, bo could not
help hearing the woodpeckers who were
Dusy on tbo roof above his bead, it oo
curred to him that possibly the birds
had not yet learned to recognize in the
rude structure any improvement on na
ture, and this idea pleased bim so much
that he incorporated it in the editorial
article which he was then doubly com'
posing. For the editor was also printer
ot the liecord; and although that re
markable journal was reputed to exert
a power felt through all Calaveras, and
a greater part of Tuolumne oounty,
strict eoonomy was one of the condi
tions cf its beneficent existence.
Thus preoccupied, he was startled by
the Budden irruption of a small roll of
manuscript, which was thrown through
the open door and fell at his feet, lie
walked quickly to the threshold, and
looked down the tangled trail which led
to the high-road. But there was noth
ing to suggest the presence of his mys
terious contributor. A bare limped
slowly away, a green-and-gold lizard
paused upon a pine stump, the wood
peckers ceased their work. So complete
had been his sylvan seclusion that he
found it difficult to connect any human
agency with the act ; rather the hare
seemed to have an inexpressibly guilty
look, the woodpecker to maintain a sig
nificant silence, and the lizard to be con
science-stricken into stone.
An examination ef the manuscript,
however, corrected this injustice to de
fenceless Nature. It was evidently of
numan origin, being verse, and ot ex
ceeding bad quality. The editor laid it
aside. As ho did so he thought ho saw
a face at the window. Sallying out in
some indignation, be penetrated the
surrounding thicket in every direction,
but his search was as fruitless as before.
The poet, if it were he, was gone.
A tew days alter this the editorial se
clusion was invaded by voices of alter
nate expostulation and entreaty. Step'
ping to the door, the editor was amazed
at beholding Mr. Morgan McCorkle, a
well-known citizen ot Angelo, and a
subscriber to the Record, in the act of
urging, partly by force and partly by
argument, an awkward young mau
toward the building. When he had ft
nally effected his object, und, as it were.
sateiy landed bis prize in a cbair, Mr,
McCorklo took off his hat, carefully
wiped the narrow isthmus of forehead
which divided his black brows from his
stubby hair, and, with an explanatory
wave of his hand toward his reluctant
companion, said : " A borned poet, and
the cussedest tool you ever seed 1
Accepting the editor s smile as a recog-
ui nun oi ine introduction, mr. jyievjor
kle panted and went on : " Didn't want
to come ! ' Mr. Editor don't want to see
; i J I" it i 3 i t r r n
me, Morg,' sez he. Milt,' sez I, he do ;
borned poet like you and a gifted
genius like he oughter come together
sociable 1 And I fetched him. Ah, will
yer?" The born poet had, after ex
hibiting signs of great distress, started
to run. But Mr. McCorkle was down
upon him instantly, seizing him by his
long linen coat, and settled him back in
bis chair. " Taint no use stampeding.
Yer ye are and yer ye stays. For yer a
borned poet ef ye are as shy as a jack
ass rabbit. Look at 'iin now 1"
He certainly was not au attractive
picture. Thero was hardly a notable
feature in his weak face except his eyes,
which were moist and shy, and not un
like the animal to which Mr. McCorkle
had compared him.' It was the face
that the editor had seen at the window.
" Knowed him for fower vear since
he war a boy," continued Mr. McCorkle
iu a loud whisper. " Allers the same,
bless you I Can jerk a rhyme as easy as
turniu' jack. Never had any eddica
tion ; lived out in Missooray all his life.
But he's chock ill o poetry. On'y this
mornin' sez I to him he camps along o'
me Milt sez I, ' are breakfast ready ?'
and he up and answers back quite peart
and chipper, The breakfast it is ready
and the birds is singing free, and it's
rism in the dawniu light is happiness
to mo I' When a man," said Mr. Mo
Corkle, dropping his voice with deep so
lemnity, " gets off things like them,
without any call to do it. and handlin'
flapjacks over a cook-stove at the same
time that man's a borned poet."
There was an awkward pause. Mr.
McCorklo beamed patronizingly on his
protege. The bom poet looked as if he
was meditating another night not a
metaphorical one. The editor asked if
he could do anything for them.
" in course you can, responded Mr.
McCorkle, " that's jest it. Milt, whore's
that poetry ?"
The editor s countenance fell as the
poot produced from his pocket a roll of
manuscript, lie, nowever, took it me
chanically and glanced over it. It was
evidently a duplicate of the former
mysterious contribution.
Ihe editor then spoke brieflv but
earnestly. I regret that I cannot recall
his exact words, but it appeared that
never before, in the history of the
Record, had the pressure beeu so great
upon its columns. Matters of para
mount importance, deeply affecting the
material progress of Sierra, questions
touching the absolute integrity of
Calaveras and Tuolumne as social com
munities were even now waiting expres
sion. Weeks, nay, niontns, must elapse
before that pressure would be removed.
and the Record could grapple with any
but the sternest of topics. Again, the
editor had noticed with pain the abso
lute decline of poetry in the foothills of
the Sierras. Even the works of Byron
and Moore attracted no attention in
Dutch Flat, aod a prejudice seemed to
exist against Tennyson in Grass Valley.
But the editor was not without hope for
the future. In the course of four or
five years when the country was settled
" What would be the cost to print this
yer?" interrupted Mr. McCorkle quietly.
"About 50, as an advertisement.
responded the editor with cheerful
alacrity.
Mr. McCorkle placed the sum in the
ediUr'i baud. " Yer see that's what I
sez to Milt ; Milt,' L 1 pay as you
go, for you are a borned poet. Ilevin
no call to write, but doin' it free and
spontaneous like, in oourse you pays,
Thet's why Mister Editor never printed
your poetry.' "
"What name shall I put to it?" asked
the editor.
Milton."
It was the first word that the born
poet had spoken during the interview,
and his voice was so very sweet and
musical that the editor looked at him
curiously, and wondered if he had
"Milton: is that all?"
"Thet's his furst name," explained
jur. Mcuorkie.
The editor here suggested that as
there had been another poet of that
name
" Milt might be took for him ? Thet's
bad," reflected Mr. McCorkle with sim
ple gravity. " Well, put down his hull
name Milton Chubbuck.
The editor made a note of the fact.
" I'll set it up now," he said. This was
also a hint that the interview was ended.
The poet and patron, arm in arm, drew
toward the door. " In next week's
paper," said the editor, smilingly, in
answer to the child-like look of inquiry
in the eyes of the poet, and in another
moment they were gone.
The editor was as good as his word,
He straightway betook himself to his
cuse, and, unrolling tbe manuscript, be
gan his task. The woodpeckers on the
roof recommenced theirs, and in a few
moments the former sylvan seclusion
was restored. There was no sound in
the barren, barn-like rooms but the birds
above, and below the click of the com
posing-rule as the editor marshaled the
types into lines in his stick, and arrayed
them in solid column on his galley.
Whatever might have been his opinion
ot the copy before him, there was no in
aioation ot it in bis tacc, which wore
tbe stolid indifference of his craft. Per
haps this was unfortunate, for as the day
wore on, and tue level rays ot tbe sun
began to pierce the adjacent thicket.
they sought out and discovered an anx
ious ambushed figure drawn up beside
the editor's window, a figure that had
sat there motionless for hours. Within.
tho editor worked on as steadily and im
passively as Fate. And without, the
born-poet ot (sierra Flat sat and watched
mm as waiting its decree.
ihe eilect ot the poem on Sierra Flat
was remarkable and unprecedented.
Tho absolute vilencss of its doggerel,
the gratuitous imbecilitv of its thought.
and above all the crowning audacity of
tne tact tuat it was the work ot a citi
zen, and published in the county paper,
brought it instantly into popularity.
For many months Calaveras had lan
guished for a sensation ; since the last
vigilance committee nothing had tran
spired to dispel the listless ennui begot
ten of stagnant business and crowing
civilization. In more prosperous mo
ments the oflice of the Record would
have beeu simply gutted and the editor
deported ; at present the paper was in
such demand that the edition was speed
ily exhausted. In brief, the poem of Mr.
Milton Chubbuck came like a special
providence to Sierra Flat. It was read
by camp-fires, in lonely cabins, in flar
ing bar-rooms and noisy saloons, and
declaimed from the boxes of stage-coach-ts.
It was sung in Poker Flat, with the
addition of a chorus, and danced as an
unhallowed rythmic dance by the Phyr
ric phalanx of One Horse Gulch, known
as "The Festive Stags of Calaveras."
Some unhappy ambiguities of expresion
gave rise to many new readings, notes,
and commentaries, which, I regret to
state, were more often marked by ingen
uity than delicacy of thought or expres
sion. Never before did poet acquire such
sudden local reputation. From the se
clusion of McCorkle's cabin and the ob
scurity of culinary labors, he was haled
forth into the glowing sunshine of fame.
The name of Chubbuck was written in
letters of chalk on unpainted walls, and
carved with a pick on the sides of tun
nels. A drink known variously as " The
Chubbuck Tranquilizer," or " The Chub
buck Exalter," was dispensed at the
bars. For some weeks a rude design for
a Chubbuck statue, made up of illustra
tions from circus and melodeon posters,
representing the genius of Calaveras in
brief skirts on a flying steed in the act
of crowning the poet Chubbuck, was
visible at Keeler's Ferry. The poet him
self was .overborne with invitations to
drink and extravagant congratulations.
The meeting between Colonel Starbot-
tie, ot biskyion, and Chubbuck, as pre
viously arranged by our " Boston." late
of Roaring Camp, is said to have been
indescribably affecting. The Colonel em
braced him unsteadily. " 1 could not
return to my constituents at Siskyion,
sir, if this hand which has grasped that
of the gifted Prentice and the lamented
Poe should not have been honored by
.1 . . a ., .... . .
tne toucn oi tne godlike (Jhubbuck.
Gentlemen, American literature is look
ing up. Thank you, I will take sugar
in mine." It was " Boston" who indited
letters of congratulations from H. W.
Longfellow, Tennyson and Browning to
Mr. Chubbuck, deposited them in the
Sierra Flat Post-office, and obligingly
consented to dictate the replies.
The simple faith aud unaffected de
light with which these manifestations
were received by the poet and his patron
might have touched the hearts of these
grim masters of irony, bat for the sud
den and equal development in both of
the variety of weak natures. Mr. Mc
Corkle basked in tbe popularity of his
protege, and became alternately super
cilious or patronizing toward the dwell
ers of Sierra Flat ; while the poet, with
hair carefully oiled and curled, and be
decked with cheap jewelry and flaunting
neck-handkerchief, paraded himself be
fore the single hotel. As may be imag
ined, this new disclosure of weakness
afforded intense satisfaction to Sierra
Flat, gave another lease of popularity
to the poet, and suggested another idea
to the facetious " Boston."
At that time a young lady popularly
and professionally known as the " Cali
fornia Pet" was performing to enthusias
tic audiences in the interior. Her spe
ciality lay in the personification of
youthful masculine character ; gamin
of tbe street she was irresistible, as a ne
gro-dancer she carried the honest miner's
heart by storm. A saucy, pretty bra
nette, she had preserved a wonderful
moral reputation even under the Jove
like advances of showers of gold that
greeted her appearance on the stage at
Sierra Flat. A prominent and deli ghted
member of that audience was Milton
Chubbuck. He attended every night.
Every day he lingered at the Union Ho
tel for a glimpse ot tne " uaiitornia Pet."
It was not long before he received a note
from her in " Boston's" most popular
ana approvea temaie nana acknowledge
ing his admiration. It was not long be.
fore "Boston" was called upon to indite
a suitable reply. At last, in further
ance of his facetious design, it became
necessary for " Boston" to call upon the
young actress hnrsslf and secure her
personal participation. To her ha un,
folded a plan, the successful carrying
out of which he felt would secure his
fame to posterity as a practical humor
ist. The " California Pet's" black eves
sparKiea approvingly and mischievously.
She only stipulated that she should see
tne man nrst a concession to her fern
mine weakness whsch years of dancing
Juba and wearing trousers and boots
nad not wholly eradicated from her will
ful breast. By all means, it should be
done. And the interview was arranged
for the next week.
It must not be supposed that during
this interval of popularity Mr. Chub
buck had been unmindful of his poetic
qualities. A certain portion of each day
ne was aosent trom town " a commuu-
in with natur'," as Mr. McCorkle ex
pressed it, and actually wandering in
the mountain trails, or lying on his
back under the trees, or gathering frag
rant herbs and the bright-colored ber
ries of the Marzanita. These and his
company he generally brought to the
editor's office late in the afternoon, often
to that enterprising journalist s infinite
weariness. Quiet and uncommunicative,
he would sit there patiently watching
him at his work until the hour for clos
ing the oflice arrived, when he would as
quietly depart. There was something so
bumble and unobtrusive m th ise visits,
that the editor could not find it in his
heart to deny them, and accepting them
like the woodpeckers, as a part of his
sylvan surroundings, often forgot even
bis presence, unce or twice moved by
some beauty of expression in the moist,
shy eyes, he felt like seriously admonish
ing his visitor of his idle folly ; but his
glance tailing upon the oiled hair and
the georgeous neck-tie, he invariably
thought better of it. The case was evi
dently hopeless.
Ihe interview between Mr. Chubbuck
and tbe " California Pet," took place in
a private room of the Union Hotel, pro
priety being respected by the presence
of that arch-humorist, " Boston." To
this gentleman we are indebted for the
only true account of the meeting. How
ever reticent Mr. Chubbuck might have
been in the presence of his own sex, to
ward tho fairer portion of humanity, he
was,like most poets, exceedingly voluble.
Accustomed as the " California Pet "
had been to excessive compliment, she
was fairly embarrassed by tbe extrava
gant praises of her visiter. Her person
ation of boy characters, her dancing of
tne " ihainpiou Jig, were particularly
dwelt upoii with fervid but unmis
takable admiration. At last, recovering
her audacity, and emboldened by the
presence of " Boston," the " California
Pet " electrified her hearers by demand
ing, half jestingly, half viciously, if it
were as a boy or girl that she was the
subject of his flattering admiration.
" That knocked him out o time." said
the delighted " Boston," in his subse
quent account of the interview. " But
do you believe the d 'I fool actually
asked her to take him with her ; wanted
to engage in the company."
ihe plan, as briefly unfolded bv " Bos
ton," was to prevail upon Mr. Chubbuck
to make his appearance in costume
(already designed and prepared by the
inventor) before a Sierra Flat audience,
and recite an original poem at the Hall
immediately on the conclusion of the
" California Pet's'" performance. At a
given signal the audience were to rise
and deliver a volley of unsavory articles
(previously provided by the originator of
the scheme); then-a select few were to
rush on tbe stage, seize the poet, and,
after marching him in triumphal pro
cession through town, were to deposit
him beyond its uttermost limits, with
strict injunctions never to enter it
again. To the first part of the plan the
poet was committed, for the latter por
tion it was easy enough to find partici
pants.
Ihe eventful night came, and with it
an audience that packed the long, nar
row room with one dense mass of human
beings. The " California Pet" had never
been so joyous, so reckless, so fascinat
ing and audacious before. But the ap
plause was tame and weak, compared to
the ironioal outburst that greeted the
second rising of the curtain, and the
entrance of the born poet of Sierra Flat.
Then there was a hush of expectancy,
and the poet stepped to the foot-lights,
and stood with his manuscript in his
hand.
His face was deadly pilo. Either
there was some suggestion cf his fate iu
the faces of his audience, or some mys
terious instinct told him of his danger.
He attempted to speak, but faltered, tot
tered, and staggered to the wings.
Fearful ot losing his prey, " Boston"
gave the signal and leaped upon the
stage. But at the same moment a light
figure darted from behind the scenes,
and delivering a kick that sent the dis
comfited humorist back among the mu
sicians, cut a pigeon-wing, executed a
double-shuffle, and then advancing to
the foot-lights with that inimitable look,
that audacious swagger and utter aban
don which had so thrilled and fascinated
them a moment before, uttered the char
acteristic speech : " Wot are you goin'
to hit a man fur, when he's down.
s-a-a-y ?"
Tbe look, tbe drawl, tne action, the
readiness, and above all the downright
courage of the little woman, had its ef
fect. A roar ot sympathetic applause
followed the act " Cut and run while
you can," she whispered hurriedly over
her one shoulder, without altering the
other's attitude of pert and saucy de
fiance toward the audience. But even'
as she spoke the poet tottered and sank
fainting npou the stage. Then she
threw a despairing whisper behind the
scenes, " King down the curtain.
There was a slight movement of op
position in the audience, but among
them rose the burly shoulders of Yuba
uui, tbe tall, erect figure of Henry
York of Sandy Bar, and the colorless,
determined face of John Oakhurst. The
ourtain came down.
Behind it knelt the ' California Pet"
beside the prostrate poet. " Bring me
some water, ltun tor a doctor. (stop I
VL.EAK OUT, ALL OF YOTJ I" .
She had unloosed the gaudy cravat
and opened the shirt-collar of the in
sensible figure before her. Then she
burst into au hysterical laugh.
" Manuela 1"
Her tiring-woman, a Mexican half
breed, came toward her.
" Help me with him to my dressing-
room, quick ; then stand outside and
wait. If any one questions you, tell
them he's gone. Do you hear? He's
gone.
The old woman did as she was bade.
In a few moments the audience had de
parted. Before morning so also had the
"California Pet," Manuela, and the
poet of Sierra Flat.
But, alas! with them also had de
parted the fair fame of the " California
Pet." Only a few, and these it is to be
feared of not the best moral character
themselves, still had faith in the stain
less honor of their favorite actress. " It
was a mighty foolish thing to do, but
it'll all come out right yet.'' On the
other hand, a majority gave her full
credit and approbation for her undoubt
ed pluck and gallantry, but deplored
that she should have thrown it away
upon a worthless object. To elect for a
lover the despised and ridiculed vagrant
f Sierra Flat, who had not even the
manliness to stand up in his own de
fense, was not only evidence of inherent
moral depravity, but was an insult to
the community. CoL Starbottle saw in
it only another instance of the extreme
frailty of the sex ; he had known similar
cases ; and remembered distinctly, Sir,
how a well-known Philadelphia heiress,
one of the finest women that ever rode
iu her kerridge, that, gad, Sir, had
thrown over a Southern member of Con
gress to consort with a d d nigger.
The Colonel had also noticed a singular
look in the dog's eye which he did not
entirely fancy. He would not say any
thing against the lady, Sir, but he had
noticad and here happily the Colonel
became so mysterious and darkly confi
dential as to be unintelligible and in-
uudibie to the bystanders.
A few days after the disappearance of
Mr. Chubbuck a singular report reached
Sierra Flat, and it was noticed that
" Boston," who since the failure of his
elaborate joke had been even more de
pressed in spirits than is habitual with
great humorists, suddenly found that
his presence was required in San Fran
cisco. liut as vet nothing but the
vaguest surmises were afloat, and noth
ing definite was known.
It wus a pleasant afternoon when the
editor of the Sierra Flat Record looked
up from his case and beheld the figure
of Mr. Morgan McCorkle standing in
the doorway. There .was a distressed
look on the face of that worthy gentle
man that at once enlisted the editor's
sympathizing attention. He held an
open letter in his hand, as he advanced
toward the middle of the room.
" As a man as has allers borne a fair
reputation," began Mr. McCorkle, slow
ly, " I should like, if so be as I could,
Mister Editor, to make a correction in
the columns of your valooable paper."
Mr. Editor begged him to proceed.
" Ye may not disremember that about
a month ago I fetched here what so be
as we'll call a young man, whose name
might be as it were Milton Milton
Chubbuck."
Mr. Editor remembered perfectly.
" That same party I'd knowed better
nor fower year, two on 'em campin' out
together. Not that I'd know him all
the time, fur he war shy and strange at
spells, and had odd ways that I took
war nat'ral to the borned poet. Ye may
remember that I said he was a borned
poet '("
The editor distinctly did.
" I picked this same party un in St
Jo., and taking a fancy to his face,
and kinder calklating he'd runn'd away
from home for I'm a married man, Mr.
Editor, and bev children ot my own
and thinkin belike he was a borned
poet."
" Well ?" said the editor.
" And as I said before, I should like
now to make a correction in the columns
of your valooable paper."
" What correction ?" asked the editor.
" I said, ef you remember mv words.
as how he was a borned poet."
" xes."
From statements in this yer letter,
it seems as how I war wrong.
"Well?"
" She war a woman."
Bret Haute.
Atlantic Monthly.
The Yeudonio Column.
The VendnniA Colnm... 1 fl i AaatrAv-
ed at Paris by the crazy Commune, was
one of the noblest monuments in the
world. It was erected by the first Na
poleon, its exterior Vim no- enoera,! wiffi
magnificent historical bus reliefs, coui-
lueuiorauva oi rrencu military achieve
ments. It was made from the bronze
of 1.200 cannon, catiturad frnm fha Rn..
eians, Prussians, and AuBtrians. It was
Deguu on tbe zatb of August, 1806, and
entirely finished in 1810. Total weight
of the bronze. 600.000 Tjoundn. TIia
peruses for the construction were as fol
lows : melting tbe bronze, 104,837 fr. ;
weighing same, 450 fr. ; chiseling, 267,.
219 fr.: the statue, bv Chaudaf t.innn
fr. ; S3 sculptors for the baa reliefs, 199,-
Jf . l i
uuu ir. ; scuipiurea oornioes, 09,115 fr. ;
general designs, n,wu ir. ; masons, lock
smiths, carpenters, and plumbers, 601,
979 fr.; architects. 50,000 fr. ; 251,367
kilog. of bronze, at 4 fr., 1,005,468 fr. :
total, 2,352.453 fr., or about $470,500.
A HORRIBLE MYSTERY SOLVED.
The Story of Ihe Hlolrn Cnrrlaice nnd Team
f 1MB4, nnd the Mntllnted Body In Ihe
Kl vcr-A Prince Htreet Murder Canfcaned.
From tht K. Y. Evening Pott
In October, 1864, five different pack
ages, containing the mutilated remains
of a human body, were found floating in
the East River and the bay at different
times and in different places, the first
having been found on the 3d of October
and the last on the 13th. All these
fragments were wrapped in heavy brown
Manila paper, enclosed in enamelled
cloth used in the construction of furni
ture and carriages, the whole having
been tied together with strong cord
technically known as a " cod-line."
These discoveries created a great deal
of excitement at the time, not only be
cause of tho horrible nature of the mur
der, but also on account of the story of
the carriage stolen on Mercer street on
the night of the murder, and of the cer
tainty in the publio mind that the
thieves were the murderers, and the
mystery which subsequently surrounded
the case, defying the utmost exertions
of the police to unravel it.
The dismembered limbs were carefully
put together by surgeons, and were
found to correspond in every particular,
nothing being wanting save the arms,
which were never found. The murdered
man had evidently been healthy and
vigorous, and about thirty-five years old,
but no clue whatever could be discovered
as to his identity. That a horrible
murder hud been committed was certain,
first because the body had been cut up
by inexperienced hands, thus proving
that the dismemberment was not a freak
on the part of medical students, and
secondly because two bullet wounds were
found in tho skull. The police, both of
this city and Brooklyn, left no plan un
tried by which the perpetrator of this
terrible crime might be detected ; but
their labors were in vain. The head was
photographed, and copies were sent to
all police (stations throughout the coun
try. The head itself was long kept On
exhibition in a glass case in the Morgue
in Brooklyn.
On the night preceding the finding of
the first package Patrick Flood, a Brook
lyn hackinan, drove three soldiers to 97
Mercer street, in this city, and entered
with tLeui to drink. While he was in
the house two men came up, leaped, on
the box of his carriage, and drove furi
ously away. Several hours later, as a
severe storm waa abating, the carriage
was driven into a livery stable on Fulton
avenue, near Navy street,' in Brooklyn,
by a man who was c'osely wrapped in a
thick gray shawl, under which he wore
a velvet coat, broadcloth pantaloons,
patent leather boots, vhite linen, all new,
and a large diamond pin. The horses
were reeking with perspiration, and had
evidently been driven furiously, one of
them having been lamed. The stranger
left tbe carriage at the htable and went
away, saying he would return. From
that day he was not seen.
After seven years this horrible mystery
has been apparently solved thus : Ac
cording to a letter l ecently received by
a friend of the murdered man in March
last, three men quarrelled at Sidney,
Aut tralia. A fight ensued, in which oue
man was fatally stabbed, the second shot
and dangerously wounded, and the
third terribly beaten. The ruffians were
arrested, and the third man in prison
made a confessicn, implicating himself
and his companions in many crimes, and
among others in the murder of one
Joseph Smith, a deBerter from the
Twentieth Connecticut Regiment, in this
city in October, 1864.
irom his story it appears that he.
with his two companions and Smith, on
the night of the 2d of October, were en
gaged in a debauch, they having made a
large sum of money by " bounty jump
ing." Smith had $900 in his possession,
and his villainous conip inions resolving
to get this at all hazards, induced him
to leave the saloon where they were
drinking, in Prince street, and enter a
large carpenter's shop, or carriage
factory, in Prince street, where Smith
lay down on a bench, and soon fell
into a drunken Bleep. One of the men
then shot him through the head, after
which they cut up the body with the
tools in the place, and tied up the frag
ments in tbe manner described above.
Two of the men then went out to look
for a wagon, leaving, it is supposed, the
third to clear away the traces of their
crime. Then followed the theft of
Flood's carriage, in which the ghastly
parcels were driven to a lonely wharf in
Williamsburg and then thrown into the
river. The murderers immediately
shipped for Australia, and have since re
mained in that country, leading riotous
and vicious Uvea until tneir arrest in
March.
The photograph of the murdered man
has been shown to the widow of Joseph
o l -AMI ,i a -w 1
oiuiiu, wuu ia Kuu living at uanoury,
Conn., and has been partly identified by
her, although the features were terribly
distorted. Other persons, however, who
knew Smith intimately, are convinced
of his identity with the murdered man,
and that this dark riddle has at last been
solved.
That the efficacy of medicine depends
largely on the imagination of the pa
tient, is a fact well known among the
faculty aud utilized by skillful phy
sicians. In fact it may be doubted
whether the success of a good doctor
does not depend more on his ability to
manage tbe mind and direct the imagi
nings of his patient than on his skill in
dealings with his bodily organs. An
old lady in Bloomington, 111., was re
cently afflicted by a grievous ailment,
for which she received from a doctor, who
was her oracle in matters physical, a
sovereign remedy in the form of pills.
By the side of the pill box in her cup
board was a box of glass beads of much
the same size and color. At the proper
intervals the old lady was wont to take
the prescribed number, not of the pills
but of the beads, and just as the last in
the box was gone she was entirely cured
of her complaint. The medicine and
the old woman's fancy worked together
" like a charm."
MISCELLANEOUS UVm
There is no better remedy for cold feet
than to slap the leg briskly just above :
the knee after raising the toot The in
creased circulation produces immediate
relief.
A Chinese photographer in Ban Fran
cisco, being upbraided by a lady cus
tomer because the pictures didn't suit
her, briefly replied : " No half hand
somo ; how can t"'
The " drummer" system has been
abandoned by several of the largest
wholesale houses of Chicago, which pro
pose hereafter to employ the newspapers
in communicating with their customers.
A very sensible conclusion.
Commissioner Pleasonton, of the In
ternal Revenue Bureau, is greatly
praiBed for giving the women clerks a
chance at the higher grade of clerkships.
One lady in his bureoji, after sustaining
a thorough and most difficult examina
tion, has been made a first-class clerk,
and three other ladies have successfully
passed the examination for second-class
clerkships.
A lady writes to a Chicago paper that
" you might as well attempt to go up a
garret without a stairway as to ascend
into higher circles ot California society
without ostentatious wealth. As for
dress, San Francisco ladies surpass all.
I have seen handsomer women, and more
elegantly arrayed in that city than I
ever saw in any other. Velvet dresses,
laces, and diamonds, with furs that
queens might envy, complelo the sum of
life's ambition there."
After Susan B. Anthony lu tured at
Ripon, Wis., Bhe wanted some licreation
and amusement, eo she took a walk on
SunLuy around the graveyaru there.
While she was enjoying the literature of
a tombstone, she heard a lot of little boys
saying, " That's her," and she thought,
" such is fame." Congratulating herself
that even the children of the land knew
her, she was accosted by an urchin, who
said : " Say, ain't you the old woman
that walks up the wire on the circus
tent to-morrow ?"
Not far from Tappan, on the Palisades,
the tree is pointed out from which Andre
was hung. ) t is rather a notable feature
in the landscape, and, as a local me
morial, helps to break the monotonous
refrain of the " house in which Washing
ton slept." A traveller was under escort
of a farmer thereabouts who pointed out
the tree. " That's a famous t?ee, there."
" What is it famous for ?" " I don't re
member exactly, but I believe a general
was hung there once." " What general
Gen. "Washingtan ?" "Yes, that was
his name." " What did they hang him
for ?" " Well, he captured somebody, I
beliov . 1 don't remember exactly."
" Wasn't it Andre ?" " Ay, that was it ;
they hung him for capturing Andre. I
remember now."
A silver mountain has been discovered
in Colo, ado near a little mining village
known as Georgetown. The ore was first
discovered in the " slide," and afterward
several valuable lodes wero struck. A
correspondent of the Denver Jfewt was
shown pieces of mineral, averaging from
two hundred to three hundred pounds
eaoh, taken from this mountain, which,
when assayed gave a return of from
1,500 to 2,000 ounces per ton. As the
mountain was near a village, the discov
ery could not be long kept a secret ; aud
as soon as the news got out there was
such a general rush to the place of old
and young amateur and professional
miners, that at a little distance it resem
bled a mammoth ant hill.
A citizen of Detroit, after two months'
sojourn in Colorado Territory, confirms
the statement of the health-giving qual
ities of that region, in respect to lung
and throat diseases. It is not inaptly
called the summit of the continent, rang
ing from four thousand to ten thousand
feet above the level of tbe sea, and the
bed of the Platte Valley, at Denver, a
mile higher than New York or Phila
delphia. Partly owing to this great ele
vation, and partly owing to other causes,
the air is exceedingly rare and pure, and
the consequence is one breathes fuller
and faster, and soon increases the breath
ing capacity. Of this there can be no
doubt, if it be true, as stated, that the
chest of a well-proportioned man by
actual measurement has been known to
expand three inches in as many weeks
after arriving in that country. A tem
porary visit howover, it is admitted, can
afford only temporary relief, and the in
valid who seeks permanent restoration
and "length of days," must make the
Territory his permanent home.
It is announced that the seventeen
year loousts have made their appearance
in various parts of the country, and
great apprehensions have been expressed
that they would work serious injury
upon the growing crops. There are sev
eral misapprehensions in vogue in re
gard to tbe seventeen-year loousts. la
the first place, the insect known by that
name is not a locust at all, and is no
more like the Asiatio looust, which is so
destructive to vegetation, than a hum
ming bird is like a flying-fish. It can
not devour grain or other vegetable
growths, for the excellent reason that it
has no jaws to devour with. It lives
only two or three weeks, and during its
brief life takes all the nutriment it re
quires, which is very little, by suction.
But it often appears in great numbers,
and renders a large extent of territory
alive and vocal with its murmuring,
bumming noise, and frequently causes
the atmosphere to become very offensive
by the smell arising from the accumula
tion of its dead. The insects have a
sting, called the ovipositor, which is
about half or three-quarters of au inch,
iu length, and with this they will perfo
rate the limbs of trees, depositing eggs
in the cavities thus made. The limbs
chosen for this purpose are generally
young and green, and from the plaoe of
deposit to their end they usually become
yellow and dry. This leads to the be.
lief that great mischief has been done,
when in fact there is very little or no
real harm. The seventeen-year locust,
6 called, is not an agreeable visitor, bub
is comparatively a harmless one. Young
fruit nurseries suffer more than any
thing else from its visitations. EecJMnlt,