Millheim Journal. (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, August 31, 1882, Image 1

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    VOL. LVI.
HABTER,
AUCTIONEER,
MILLHEIM, PA.
J C. BPRINGER,
Fashionable Barber.
Next Door to JOURNAL Store,
MILLHKIH, PA.
JgROCKERHOFF HOUSE,
ALLXOKKXY STRKXT,
BKLLEFONTE, - - - PA
c. G. McMILLEN.
PROPRIETOR.
Good Sample Room on First Floor.
S-Fr* BUM to and from all Tralna Special
rates to wltuMses and jurors. U
IRVIN HOUSE.
(Most Central Hotel In Uie Ctt
Corner MAIN and JAY Streets,
Lock Havei, Pa.
8. WOODS CALWKLL, Proprietor.
Good Sample Rooms fbr Commercial
Travelers on first floor.
D. H. MINGLE,
Physician and Surgeon,
MAIN Street, MILLHKIM, Pa.
R.JOHN F. HARTER,
PRACTICAL DENTIST,
Office in 2d story of TomUnson's Gro
cery Store,
On MAIN Street, MILLMKIM, Pa.
4,
BF KIKTF.It,
a FASHIONABLE BOOT 4 SHOE MAKES
Shop next door to Foote'a Store, Main SL,
Boots, Shoes and Gaiters made to order, and aat
lafactory work guaranteed. Repairing done prompt
ly and cheaply, and in a neat style.
K R. PKALK. H. A. McKam.
PEALE Ac McKEE,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Office opposite Court House, Bellefonte, Pa
C. T. Alexander. C. M. Bower.
A BOWER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
(
Office In Garman'a new building.
JOHN B. LINN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Allegheny Street.
OLEMENT DALE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BELLEFONTI, PA.
Northwest corner of Diamond,
HOY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Orphans Court business a Specialty.
C. HEINLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW#
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Practices in all the courts of Centre County.
Special attention to Collections. Consultations
In German or English.
J. A. Beaver. J W. Gephart.
JGEAVEK A GEPHART,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA.
Office on Alleghany Street, North of High.
Y° CUM& HARSH BERGER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
BELLEFONTE, PA
8. KELLER,
ATTORNEY AT LAW.
BILLETOHTg, FA,
Consultations In English or German. Office
In Lyon's Building, Allegheny Street.
. m. ttfum w.>.Bjanßn.
JJASTINGS A REEDER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW.
BELLEFONTE, PA
Office on Allegheny street, two doors east of the
ottos occupied by the late Ann of Hasi
fcan m|||| | [M|||
. _ . 1 -. .—■ ... - *- ..... . - . . 1 . —i- , . mi. ... , .... . . ■ UL - —1 '. .. m.. . . ■
iie ililllriii gmrixL
TUB BTOKM.
At men'a cheeks failed
on shore invaded,
When shorewaril wadeil
'I he lords of fltiht;
When churl and raven
Saw hard on haven
The wlde-wlnged raven
At mainmast height;
When monks affrighted
To windward sighted
The birds full-flighted
Of swift sea-kings;
So earth turns paler
When Storm the sailor
Steers in with a roar in the race of his wings.
O, strong sea-sailor.
Whose cheek turns paler
For wind or hall or
For fear of thee ?
O, far sea-farer,
O, thunder-bearer,
Thv songs are rarer
1 hau soft songs he.
O, fleet-foot stranger,
O, north-sea ranger,
Through days of danger
And ways of fear,
Blow thy horn here foi us,
Blow the sky clear for us.
Send us the song of the sea to hear.
MY Tit K LAKE.
What!" said Mrs. Haven, almost in
a shriek.
"It's tine," said her husband.
"They're ooming to visit us—every one
of '§m ! My sister Caroline, beoause
the Scarborough hotels are too intoler
ably hot for endurance; cousin Her
bert Haller, because he is an aesthete,
and wants to study nature from a level
hitherto untrodden; Mrs. Johnson, be
cause the children don't get well after
the whooping-cough; aunt Sadie, on
account of a difficulty with her land
lady on the subject of poodle dogs ; and
uncle Jenks, because he never has
visited us, and wants to know what my
wife is like."
"Dear me," faintly gasped Mary
Haven, looking arouud her pretty sit
ting-room, draped in pink chintz, fra
grant with frrsh flowers, and decorated
with gilt bird-cages, water-color
sketches and Kensington embroidery ;
"what am I to-do?"
"Do?" repeated her husband, who
was intent on clipping of the end of
his cigar, so that it should "draw"
satisfactorily. "There is but one thing
to do—let 'em ooine."
_ "All at once ?"
"Yes, all at once."
"And I with only ore girl, and the
tbermotaieter at ninety in the shade,
and the painters in possession of the
second story," hysterically cried the
lady.
"Couldn't be a better combination of
circumstances, my dear," said Mr.
Haven.
"I don't believe these people care a
straw about seeing me," said Mrs.
Haven, ready to burst into tears.
"Neither do 1," s lid her husband.
"It's only on account of the! con
venience, the hot weather, and the
high prices at the hotels." added Mrs,
Haven. "Hugh I've a great mind to
commit suicide."
"Don't do that, my dear," said
Mr. Haven. "I can suggest a better
plan. I was just thinking, do you
know—■—"
"Of telegraphing to the city for a
new force of servants, a box of pro
visions from Fortnum & Mason's, half-a
dozen cts, with hair mattresses and
bedding to match?" eagerly inter
rupted the lady.
"Nothing of the sort," said Mr.
Haven serenely eyeing the distant land
scape through the amethyst rays of
cigar-smoke, ' Of—moving."
"Moving, Hugh ?"
"To the little cottage by the lake,"
Mi. Haven explained.
"Only fur a few days, merely on ac
count of the repairs at the house
"Faint upsets my digestion, and the
sound of a carpenter's hammer sets my
teeth on edge.
".Besides, Hodge, the contractor,
can work a good deal faster if we're
! all out of the way."
"But, Hugh, the oottage is nothing
on earth but a camping-out place, with
board floors, and not a particle of
plaster or paint about it," remon
strated Mary.
"What of that, my love ?" sa d the
imperturbable husband.
"Our friends don't come, as I take
it, to admire frt sco and gilding, but to
enjoy our society."
"They'll think we live there always,"
said Mrs. Haven, with corrugated
brow.
"That is precisely what I wish them
to think, my dear."
"Oh I" said Mrs. Haven.
"You follow my meaning >"
"I—think—l—begin—to," said she,
with an amused light beginning to
sparkle in her eyes.
"Yes, dear, perhaps it would be a
good plan to move—just while the re
pairs are in progress."
And she hurried up stairs to pack a
few necessaries at once.
The cottage by Windermere was not
an imposing editice.
There was plenty of roem in it, such
as it was, but the floors were of rude
pine boards the windows were undraped,
and the furniture was such as was
adapted merely to the wants of camp
ing parties who were prepared to "rough
it" after the most primitive fashion,
and when Mrs. Caroline Montagu
Prout drove up to the door, in a break
heavily laden with trunks, she stared
MILLIIEIM, PA., THURSDAY, AUGUST 31,1882.
through her gold eye-glasses iu ft most
ridiculous manner at the rude porch,
the skutterloss windows, and the uu -
pain toil wood settees ou the grass.
"This isn't 'The Solitudes!'" she
said. "Drive 01?, man! You have
made a mistake."
"This 'ere's where Lawyer Haven's
folks live," said the mau, leisurely
ehewiug a straw.
"Guess it's enough of a 'solitude' to
suit anybody."
"I thought it was a picturesque cot
tage," said Mrs. Montagu Prout, iu ac
cents of the keenest disappointment..
But at this minute Mrs. Haven her
self hurried to the door.
"I think you must be my husband's
sister Caroline," said she graciously,
"Do come in."
"But where are the trunks to go?"
arid the fashionable widow, who had
dazzled the eyes of the Scarborough
world with her numerous changes of
toilet during the past fortnight.
"You can put them in the shed at
the back of the barn," said .Mrs Haven
graciously.
"I don't ihink they will quite go up
the stairway."
Mr. Haller arrived later in the day—
a long-haired, sallow-oomplexioned
young mau, in a violet velveteen suit,
followed by a countryman carrying his
portable easel, color-cases, traveling
library, and writing-desk.
He knocked loudly at the door of the
cottage with the ivory knob of his cane.
"Can you tell me where Mr. Haven
lives ?" said he.
"This is the place," said the hostess.
"This ?" echoed Mr. Haller.
"You are cousin Herbert, I suppose?"
said Mrs. Haven politely. "Walk In.
My husband will come by the evening
train. Allow me to show you to your
room. It is rather small; but we are
expecting a good deal of company, and
I dare say you won't mind a little in
convenience. "
And she lelt him in a seven-by-nine
apartment under the eaves, where he
could not stand upright, except just in
middle of the room, and where the
three-pane window was close to the
floor.
"Humph 1" soliloquised the ©sthete,
looking ruefully around him, "this isn't
at all what I expected."
Mary Haven had scarcely got down
stairs and resumed the manufacture of
raspberry pies, when shouts and cries
in various keyß announced the coming
ot Mrs. Johnson and her four children
from the nearest station.
"Is this'cousin Hugh's house, ma ?"
said Adelaide, the eldest, discontentedly.
"It ain't nothn' bnt a shanty,"
loudly proclaimed Alexander Gustavus,
the second hope of the family.
"There ain't no paint on it," said
Helen Louise.
"Lemme get oat! lemme get out!"
cried Julietta, "and play in that lovely
black mud where the frog is sitting."
Mrs. Johnson sailed in with a scar
let face and a perturoed look.
"I'm afraid, cousin Mary," said she,
"that we shall inconvenience you.
There don't seem to be much accom
modation here."
"Oh, there's plenty of room up in the
garret, such as it is," said Mrs. Haven
smiling. "Of course, one expects to
lead a gipsy life in a place like this ;
and the lake will be so nice for the
little dears to play in, if only they are
a little careful, for it's so lucky you are
here, cousin Johnson, to help me with
the pies and bread, for I'm not a very
experienced housekeeper, and "
"I thought you Kept two or three
servants," said Mrs Johnson frigid ly.
"I have only one young girl just at
piesent,' said Mrs. Haven; "and, of
course, when there's so much company,
there's a great deal to do.
"Oh ! there comes an old lady with a
sweet little dog."
She glanced out of the open door
way.
"Goodness me! if it ain't that intoler
able old aunt Sadie, with her inevitable
dog," groaned Mrs. Johnson, as a fat
elderly lady toiled up the path, in a
scarlet shawl and a black-lace hat.
"Bless me 1" said aunt Sadie, puiple
with the heat and dripping with perspi
ration, "you don't never mean to say,
niece Haven, that this 'ere's the place
I've heard tell of on lake—what d'ye
call it?"
"It is where we live at present,"
said Mrs. Haven quietly.
"I'm downright sorry I left the
hotel at the railroad," said aunt Sadie
sadly.
"I ain't used to there unplastered
houses, and I'm most sure Trip will
catch a bad cold."
Uncle Jenks was the last one to come
—a shrewd, browro-faced old man, in a
grey suit, aud with keen eyes like an
eagle.
He looked around him and seemed
to take in the situation at once.
"No servants, eh ?" said he.
"Well, it's lucky I came.
"I'm pretty handy to fetch water, and
split wood, and help about generally;
and you're pretty slim, my dear, to do
all the work of this house with only a
young gal to help you.
••So Hugh hasn't done real well in
business ?
"I've a little money uninvested my-
self, and I don't know as I could do
better with it than to loud it to my
sister's son."
Thus he spoke, cheery and kind,
while Mrs. Montagu Pront fanned her
self, cousin Herbert Haller did battle
with the flies and w asps, Mrs. Johrson
followed her- four children about in
ceaseless terror lest they should be
drowned, and aunt Sadie felt her dog's
pulse and groaned over the heat.
One night at the cottage settled the
question of "to stay or not to stay," in
the mind of Mrs. Haven's guests.
"I never slept iu such a hot place in
my life," said Mrs. Johnson.
"The bed w<s not lung enough far
me to stretch myself out in, and the
eaves touched my forehead," saidoousin
Herbert.
"The owls hooted all night in the
woods," Ijaid aunt Sadie "and kept
dear little Trip barking until he was
hoarse."
"I wouldn't stay here if you would
pay mo a hundred pounds a week,"
said Mrs. Montagu Prout, thinking of
her pink silk party-dresses, and twelve
buttoned kid gloves.
•"Well," said uncle Jenks drily, "it
ain't just the location I should have
selected for a summer residence, but 1
ain't goiug off to leave Hugh and his
wife while I can manage to be useful to
them."
So the company departed, with
various adieus and insincere protesta
tions of regard, and only uncle Jenas
was left; and then Mr. Haven took his
cigar out from between his lips.
"Uncle Jenks," said he, "suppose
we go up and see how the carpenters
and painters are getting along with the
conservatory up at the house."
"At whathouse?" said mole Jenks.
"Mine, ' said Mr. Haven.
"Don't yJU live here ?" asked uncle
Jenks.
"Not all the time," said Mr. Haven
smiling.
"We only came here to accommodate
such of our relations as jnerely desired
to make a convenience of us."
"Oh !" said uncle Jenks, a slow smile
beginning to break over his shrewd
face.
And Mary Haven confessed that her
husband's advice had proved excellent.
Uncle Jenks, the one of the troop
who really cared two straws for them,
was with them still—the reet had all
been frightened away by the rusticities
of the Windermere cottage.
"And I wish them bon voyage" said
Mr. Haven calmly.
"So do I," agreed Mary.
A Joke on the Old Man.
The old man, was one of those opin
ionated men who especially pleased to
express their views in public places; the
conversation had turned upon a recent
bold robbery, and he had just fixed the
attention of all the passengers in the
car upon a demure looking young man
who sat next to him, by addressing him
•otto voice: "Now, I'm a detective and
you stole that money."
As a matter of fact, the young man
had not stolen anything, nor was the
older man accustrg him; he was simply
about to explain to the unsophisticated
youth, how detectives operate in running
down a criminal. He was playing detect
ive and had cast the young man as the
thief, just for instance, you know, and
warming to his subject, feeling that he
had his illustration splendidly in hand,
the old man settled right down to busi
ness.
" You stole that money," he repeated,
"and I'll show you how easily you trip
ped yourself up."
Everybody in the car intensely in
terested.
"Last evening," continued the old
man, "a person answering your descrip
tion was observed by several parties to
pass and repass the scence of the rob
bery."
Here the lady who sat next the young
man left her seat and stood up in the far
end of the car.
"Footprints made by boots exactly of
your size where discovered in the yard
and on the roof of the veranda, whereby
your entrance was effected, and a piece
of the very goods from which your
clothes are made had been torn out and
was found adhering to a sharp point of
the iron worK."
About this time the young man be
came conscious that he had for some
reason been singled out by the pass engers
as an object of great interest, and it
suddenly occurred to him that they
might think the old man's remarks were
personal to himself. He endeavored to
get in a word or two, but the old man
would brook no interrupti n.
"Hut that's not all," he went on; "a
servant girl discovered your presence,
the alarm was given, a shot fired at your
retreating figure which penetrated your
hat"
Here the passengers not ced a pair of
clean cut holes in the young man's hat.
The evidence was complete. Mur
murs of "What a pity!'' "So young,
too!" "The little scoundrel!" greeted the
young man's ears.
Crimson and speechless, in his
mortification he fled the car, followed by
all of the passengers but the old man.
"Going to let Lim go away?" asked
the conductor.
"Yes," responded the old man,keep
ing up the joke; "I pity the poor boy."
"Well, you'll have to pay his fare,
then. I didn't gtt it." And that's where
the joke turned on the old man,
No Longer on Innuendo.
Texas preachers are said to be very
eccentric, and their mild unnaturalness
has given rise to a great many remarks
and a few stories. The following narra
tive was told us confidentially by a slan
derer:
A minister arose before a large audi
ence, took his text, and began preach
ing. A brisk firing of pistols began on
the outside of the church.
"Brother Deacon," said the minister,
"I believe those fellows are casting
insinuations at me. In fact, lam very
neurley convinoed," he continued, as a
piece of plastering fell from the wal[
close at his head.
"1 Think, parson, that it refers to
some one else," replied the deacon.
The minister raised a tumbler of water,
and was in the act of applying it to his
lips when the glass fell shattered by a
shot.
"This is an innuendo no longer,"said
the minister, wiping the water from his
vest; "this is what I term an unmistaka
ble thrust. The congregation will please
sing while I go ont and investigate the
matter. Is there another preacher in
the house?"
"Yes," said a man throwing down a
stick which ho had been whittling, aris
ing and pulling at the waist of his pants
like a man who has just straightened np
after setting out a row of tobaoco across
a broad field.
•'Got 011 an extra?"
"Yes."
"Unliml>er."
The whittling preacher handed over
a large Remington pistol, which the
iosulted preacher took and drawing one
from his belt, started out After going
out there was an immediate improv
ment in the firing business. It was de
cidedly more life-like, insomuch that the
deacons sat working their fingers.
After a while the minister returned, and
placing an ear and the nostril and a half
of a nose on the pulpit remarked: "He
that hath ears to hear, let him behave
himself." The sermon then proceeded
without interruption.
A Practical Sermon.
Leadville, Colorado, baa experienced
religion, and Faro Bill, one of its most
distinguished citizens, preached the oth
er day, in the absence of—as he express
ed it—"the boss mouthpiece of the
heavenly mill," to a large and select
audience in the variety a theare of the
place inside on Sunday as a Church.
This is the way the substitute began:
"Feller citizens, the preacher bein'
absent, it falls to me to take his hand
and play it fur all it is worth. You all
know that I'm just learniu' the game,
an', of course, I may be expected to make
wild breaks, but I don't believe thar's
a rooster in the campmean enough to
take advantage o' my ignorance, and
oold-deck me right on the first deal. I'm
sinoere in this new depaiture, an' I be
lieve I've struck a game that I can play
clear through w ttiout copperin' a bet
for when a man tackles such a lay-out
as this, he plays every card to win, and
if ho goes through the deal as he orter
do, when he lays down to die, au' the
last case is ready to slide from the box
he can oall the turn every time.
"I was readin' in the Bible to-day
that yarn about the Prodigal Sox, and
I want to tell yer the story. The book
don't give no dates, but it happened
long, long ago. This Prodigal Son had
an old man that put up the coin every
time the kid struck him for a stake, an'
never kicked at the size of the pile,
either. I recon the old man was pretty
well fixed, an' when he died he intend
ed to give all his wealth to this kid au
his brother. Prod give the old man a
little game o' talk one day, and injuoed
him to whack up in advance o' the
death racket. He'd no sooner got liis
divvy in his fist than he shook the old
man an' struck out to take in some o'
the other camps. He had a way-up
time for a while, an' slung his cash to
the front like he owned the best payin'
lead on earth; but hard luek hit him a
lick at last, an' left him flat. The book
don't state what he went broke on, but
I recon be got steered up agin some
brace game. But anyhow he got left
without a chip, or a four-bit piece to go
an' eat on. And old granger then tuk
him home, an' set him to herdin' hogs
an' here he got so hard up an' hungry
that he piped off the swine while they
were feedin' an' he stood in with 'em on
a shuck lunch. He soon weakened on
such plain provender, an says to him
self, says he: 'Even the old man's
hired hands are livin' on square grub,
while I'm worrj in' along here on corn
husks straight. I'll just take a grand
tumble to myself, an' chop on this rack
et at once. I'll skip back to the gov
ernor and try to fix things up, and call
fur a new deal,' So off he started.
' Tne old man seed the kid a oomin'
and what do you reckon he did? Did
he pull his gun and lay for him, in
tending to wipe htm as soon as he got
into the range? Did he call the dogs
to chase him off the ranch? Did he
hustle around for a club and give him
a statd off at the front gate? Eh ? Not
to any alarming extent he didn't; no,
sir. The scripture book says he waltz
ed out to meet him, and froze to him
on the spot and kissea him, and then
marched him off to a clothing store and
fitted him ont in the nobbiest rig to be
had for coin. Then the old gent in
vited all the neighbors, and killed a fat
caif, and gave'the biggest blow-out the
camp ever seen."
At the oonclnsien of the narrative the
speaker paused, evidently framing in
his mind a proper application of the
story. Before he ooold resume a tall,
blear-eyed gambler, with a fierce mous
tache, arose and said:
"Tain't me as would try ter break np
a meeting or do anything disreligions.
No, sir; I am not that sort of a citizen.
But in all public hoo-doos it is a parlia
mentary rule for anybody as wants to
ax qqpstions to rise up an' fire them off.
I do not want ter fool away time ques
tioning the workings of religion; oh, no.
As long as it is kept in proper bounds,
and does not interfere with the boys in
their games, Ido not see as it can do
harm. 1 just want ter ax the honorable
speaker if he bas not given himself dead
away ? Does it stand ter reason that a
bloke would feed upon corn husks when
there was hash factories in the camp?
Would anybody hev refused him the
price of a square meal if he had struck
them for it? Would any of the dealers
that beat him out of his coin see him
starve? As I remarked afore, 1 do not
want to make any disrespectable breaks
but I must say that I got it put up that
the speaker has been trying ter feed us
on cussed thin taffy, and no one but a
silly would take it up."
Bill glare 1 upon the speaker aad
fairly hissed:
"Do yon mean to say that I am a
liar?"
"Well, you can take it just as you
choose. Some folks would swallow it
in that shape."
Bill pulled his revolver, and, in an
instant, the bright barrels of numer
ous weapons flashed in the air as the
friends of each party prepared for ac
tive duty. The brevet preacher was the
first to fire and the rasn doubter of
spiritual truths fell on the ground.
Shot followed shot in quick succession
and when quiet was again restored a
score or more of dead and wounded
men was carried from the tent. Having
secured attention. Bill said:
Further proceedings is adjourned for
the day. You will receive the doxolo
_ ■ , 99
gy.
The audience arose.
"May grace, mercy, and peace be with
you, now and forever, amen. And 1
want it distinctly understood that I am
going to maintain a proper respect for
the gospel if I have to croak every son
of-a-gun of a sinner in the mines. Meet
in' is out."
The crowd filed from the tent as cool
ly as if nothing extraordinary had oc
curred, and a man remarked:
"Bill has got the sand to make a
bang-up preacher, and I would not
wonder if he made a big mark in the
world yet"
Progress of Kduoatlou In Japan.
The seventh annual report of the
Japanese Minister of Education states
that there are 28.025 common schools in
Japan, of which 16,710 are public, and
the remainder private; there being an
increase of 1,316 and 125 respectively,
s compared with the previous year.
The number of high schools is 107 pub
lic and 677 private there being an in
crease of 42 and 63 respectively. Be
sides the above, many Kindergarten and
primary schools were established. These
private schools, even now, play a most
important part in Japanese national life
and education. Many of them have
hundreds of students attracted by the
fame of a single teacher. Youths flock
from all parts of the country to sit at
the feet of a renowned scholar, as men
did iu Europe to hear Abelard. The
most celebrated of these leaders of
youth—for this they are, rather than
simple schoolmasters in our sense of the
the word—is Mr. Fukunawa, of Tokio,
whose translations from Earopean books
and original works on the political and
social questions of the day are read far
and wide in Japan.
The students of this gentleman fill
many of the most important offices in
the state; some of them recently formed
themselves into a patriotio society, and
established a newspaper, in which the
acts of the government are subject to
much cuuitic criticism. Long after the
ordinary educational work of their
teacher is done,and the young men have
gone out into the world to do for them
selves, they continue to reside near him,
to study under his direction,and to form
classes in which important public ques
tions can be freely discussed under his
guidance. One of his classes translated
the whole of Adam Smith's "Wealth of
Nations"' into Japanese, with annota
tions, and many other lmpo-tant Euro
pean works, especially those on philoso
phy and politics.
BISULPHIDE of carbon is recommended
for the extermination of the squashvine
borer; it is applied by making a small
hole with a pointed stick, at the root of
the plant, pouring in a half a teaspoon
iul of the liquid, and quickly olosrng
the hole with the foot. The liquid is
extremely volatile, and its vapor is very
poisonous and terribly explosive, so that
the greatest of oare must be exercised
in handling it, and no fire, not even so
much as a lighted pipe or cigar, must
be tolerated in its vicinity.
Qr!Ml at SM.
*lll the long gammer nights at sea,"
said a friend who knew Garibaldi, *'we
sat upon the deck,and he recited Italian
poems. He was a poet himself—a poet
in action. When he stood m his red
shirt upon the baloony at Naples and
gave the kingdom to the king, he was
the same simple man as on those sum
mer nights at sea." Bat whoever re
members the days of Gregory XVI., the
last pope bat one.may well rub his eyes
as he reads that a triumphal procession,
headed by the municipal authorities,
marched through the chief street ot
Rome, amid universal acclamation, car
rying a bust of Garibaldi, which it de
posited in the Capitol. There were the
usual details of pageantry—the black
veiled ladies, the ohariot typical of tri
umphal entries, the figure ef Liberty
crowning the bust, and there were the
red-shirted veterans, the historic flags,
the great banners c f Italian cities, the
schools, the clubs, the artists and the
oommittees. But more than the specta
cle was its significance. It was new
Italy, regenerated Italy, the Italy to
which Gregory XVI, is as remote and
alien a figure as Alexander VIL, the
Borgia, Perhaps some of the strangers
who watcned the prooession smiled at
the black veils and the emblematical
Liberty and the allegorical figures,
thinking them trival and melodramatic,
and giving an artificial and iosincere as
pect to the spectacle. But the pine must
allow for the palm. The cooler northern
temperament must not be severe upon
southern ardor lavishing itself in ex
pression. Long ago the Easy Chair
was wandering in Italy, when the Aus
trians were occupying Lombardy, and
had jnst taken possession of Milan. On
all the roads, at the cafes, on garden
balconies, there were Italians with
symbolic hats and symbolic ribbons, and
loud gesticulation and gusts of patriotic
song; and despite ils sympathy with
the Italian cause, and its consequent
detestation of the maladetti Tedeschi,
the Easy Chair could not but hear the
line of Browning's contemptuous Luitol
fo mockingly and constantly repeating
itself: "1 have known tkree-and-twenty
leaders of revolts." And so supreme
was his disdain of Italian patriotism and
persistence that the sneering Luitolfo
was sure that the twenty-fourth would
be as imbecile or treacherous as his
predecessors. So it was incredible to a
child of Sam Adams and the New York
Sons of Liberty that men who really
meant to rescue their country from the
grasp of a tyrant would tie ribbons in
their hats, and waste patrotism in frivo
lity, and apparently suppose that a revo
lution could be helped by millinery. It
was but a generation age, and yet it was
that generation which has redeemed
Italy and driven the Austrian away. The
temperament is not our temperament.
But it is our temperament sometimes to
confound the florid expression with the
sentiment, and then we deceive our
selves. "Why cannot Alfred say a thing
without jingling it?'* asked Carlyle of
Tennyson. Carlyle mistook the rhyme
for the poem. The impatient pine often
thinks that rhe palm spends itself utter
ly upon expression, forgetting that it is
the same deep affection for the dead
child which often hardens the father
into stone, and dissolves the mother into
a flood of woe. Garibaldi was a perfect
type of that Southern temperament. His
career illustrates the persistent and cre
ative power of sentiment, He typified
the new Italy to itself. He was the
symbol of the sentiment which Cavour
moulded into a nation, and he will be
always canonized more universally than
any Italian patriot, becanse no other
represented so purely and simply to the
national imagination the Italian ideal of
patriotio devotion. "He was himself a
poet," said his fellow voyager. He had
that enthusiasm of high sentiment which
makes no calculation for defeat, because
it does not believe in it. Despite Napo
leon, even battles are not sums in arith
metic. It is strange that Napoleon,half
of whose success was due to a sentiment
—the glory of France—which welded
his army into a thunderbolt and still
burns to onr later hearts inthe fervid of
song Beranger,should have supposed that
it is numbers and not oonviotion and en
thusiasm which win the final victory.
Italia fara da se. Garibaldi was that
faith inoarnate, and its prophecy is ful
filled. Italy, more prond than stricken
bears his bust to the Capitol and there
its elegant marble will say, while Rome
endures, that one man with God, with
country, with duty and conscience, is at
last the majority.
ANOTHER girl: "Do you know, my
young friend, that it pains me to you
nling to your oigarretts ?" said a ] hilan
thropiat to a palUd young mm this
morning. "You will have Angina Pec
toris, as sure as you're bom." "Already
engaged to Arabella Higgins, so you see
Angina has no attractions for me." The
philanthropist moved on.
CoBNUtiD: "Now, my dear, what do
you mean by coming home in this condi
tion?" said a New Haven woman to her
spouce. "I'm not in this condition, I'm
not." ' 'What have you been drinking ?"
Nothing but pump juice, my dear; noth
ing but pump juice." "Pump juice; is it?
I suppose you think I never heard tell of
a beer pump?" Being thus cornered, be
acknowledged that he was corned. J
"Wa* of it?" said the old gentleman,
sustaining himself with great dignity
and a lamp post: "Sho'm I. '
NO 35.