J SM “eT
LV
Nemogratic Adm
Balto, Pa, Ota 4, 18.
For the Warcuman.
THE COWBOY.
BY WILL TRUCKENMILLER.
O'er level land he drives his herds,
And waters them at lonely streams;
For him the dew of morning gleams,
For him the song of prairie birds;
For him the bright stars shine, at night ;
The sky the roof above his head,
The rustling erisp dry grass his bed.
He starts from sleep with dawn’s first light.
And leaping on his mustang wild,
He dashes through the prarie grass;
The brown deer stare to see him pass;
A reckless, hardy, desert child.
Throughout the long, hot cloudless day
He guards the cattle feeding wide.
The level plains on every side,
Are like an ocean, dim and gray,
Strange sights in that strange land he sees,
The hail clouds rushing black and low,
The screaming winds that with them go,
He heeds no more than summer breeze.
And towering to the brazen sky,
Born upward on the whirlwind strong,
That like huge giants stalk along,
Columns of bitter alkali.
The mad fire leaping fierce and red.
Along the brown grass, serc and dry ;
And when its furey has passed by,
The prairie black, and bare, and dead.
That mystery of the rising sun,
The mirage—grand and wonderous sight,
Transfiguring in the morning light
The treeless prairies, grim and den.
Green vale, and grove, and leafy bower,
A silver lake, a runing stream ;
The living fountains glace and gleam ;
Here is a cottage, there a tower.
The day moves on this fairy sight
Fades before the grazers eye,
Again the plains about him lie
Lonely in the noonday light.
The storms of winter shriek andjscream,
Fierce blizzards from the frozen north;
And the cold still nights bring forth
The aurora’s rosey gleam.
Thus his life; and after, what ?
A mound upon a grassy knoll,
One prayer for the departed soul,
And the dead are soon forgot.
A WILD GOOSE CHASE.
The Remarkable Adventures of a Geor- |
gia unter in Quest of Game.
Mr. M. C Kiser, solemn after the
manner of amen brethren, and scrupu-
lous in statement as the wary witness
who testified that his name was “Abra-
ham Jones, or words to that effect,” has
vet this tale to tell.
He says it was told him many years
ago by a gentleman of character and
reputation for veracity.
“Old man Cunsford went out hunt-
ing one day, when he saw eleven turk-
eys sitting on a rail fence. IIé had
loaded his shotgun with turkey shot and
forgotten to pull out the ramrod. When
Iie shot at the nearest gobbler the rod
enfiladed the turkeys and cut off their
Leads, so that they dropped forward
and fell on the ground, where they lay
in a straight row.
Just then he heard a noise in the
Lushes on the other side of the creek,
and going over to investigate the cause
Le saw blood on the leaves. IFollow-
ing the sanguinary trail for a couple of
hundred yards he came upon a wound-
ed stag. ihe brute was unable to go
farther, and had sank to the ground.
Sticking through his body and protrud-
ing on the other side was the ramrod.
Weak as he wasthe stagallowed Lunds-
ford to pull out the rod. After it the
lite blood gushed, and in a moment the |
animal was dead.
Wiping the blood carefully from the
ramrod he reloaded and returned it to
its place under the gun barrel.
Then he shouldered the buck and!
stagered across the creek to the place
where the turkeys lay.
As he'sat down to get his breath and
rest from the unusual exertion, he heard
the familiar. ‘cronk ! cronk!” of
geese away up in the sky. Their keen
ves discovered the creek, and down
they came to a broad and deep pool
made by a widening of the channel a
Lundred yards above.
Atraid to go within gunshot for fear
of frightening them off. Lundsford sat
still and thought the matter over,
Le did so his eyes fell upon a stout
yiece of very large cord, the end of
which hung out of his hunting bag. A
Lappy thought struck him and he pull-
edout the cord to see if it was
enough and to spare.
Coiling the cord carefully around his
lett arm, he crept cautiously to a bend
oi the creek where he was out of sight
Gf the geese, /
self ol his clothing, he waded slowly up
the creck, keepine well under the bank
to avoid frightening the geese. The
!
:
end concealed him from them until he |
ves within about thirty yards.
Through the overhanging foliage he
could just see them sailing, diving and
cavorting about the pool. They were
in high spirits, and appeared to be to-
tally unconscious that they were watch-
ed. There were fourteen geese and one
Lig gander, who kept aloof and looked |
on at the sport as if it was a little too
undignified for him,
Lundsford had been a wonderful div-
cr in his boyhood days, and now he
prepared for a long swim under the
surface. Dipping noislessly in the wa.
ter, he half swam, half crawled, terra-
pin fashion, along the bottom of the
pool till he got under the geese. They
were disporting themselves about in a
circle, and Lundsford slowly rose in the
centre till the top of his head appeared
like a moss covered rock above the sur-
face] The geese took no notice of this,
and he managed to. get his nostrils
above the surface and take a long |
breath.
Then he sank without making a rip-
ple and defily looped his cord around
the feet of one goose after another. The
I
wild |
As |
long |
Quickly divesting him- |
other geese could not understand the
seemed suddenly to be attacked with
a fit of the St. Vitus dance, until, one
by one, they found themselves in the
i same predicament. Then they all knew
| they were tied, and their demeanor be-
came suddenly frantic.
But it was too late. Lundsford had
tied the feet of all fourteen of them and
fastended the ends of the cord together.
Then he threw caution to the winds and
rose suddenly in the middle of a circle,
with his hands stretched out grasping
the cord on opposite sides.
Alas, for his temerity ! The old gan-
der who was free set up a terrible
“cronk! cronk! The geese foliowed
in notes of despair, but the old fellow
seemed not to have lost the courage of
| leadership, for he hovered within a
a safe distance, and by a series of ener-
getic cronks inspired them with a sud-
den and desperate resolution,
All at once the gander, with an un-
earthly cronk that sounded to Lunds-
ford like the wail of the damned, lifted
his clumsy body and led the flight,
With a tremendous flopping and a suc-
cession of cronks that strangely resemb-
led the *“Heave ho” of the negroes, they
rose from the water and sailed awa
toward the sky,carrying Lundsford with
them. Before he knew what was go-
ing to happen he was fifty feet from the
ground, and when he realized his peril-
ous position he was too high to drop.
He was in for the flight. He must
migrate whether or no, and up under
the edges of the clouds, as the cool
winds of the upper air fanned the pres-
piration from his brow, he had time to
think over the situation.
He was passing ever a town and he
gould see the people gather in clusters
along the streets and twist their necks
to look up in the sky. It was a large
town and the suburbs stretched away
for nearly a mile. To his unutterable
horror he remembered that he had left
his clothes on the bank of the creek.
Even if he had them it would have
been impossible to put them on. This
new fangled vehicle of his had no fa-
cilities for making toilettes and he had
to remain as nature framed him, with-
out any of the superfluities of fashion.
Not even a fig leaf encumbered his per-
son. It was an admirable flying cos-
tume, but was not appropriate for a
public performance. Ie was just cop-
gratulating himself that he was too far
above those curious eyes for them to
discover his costume, when he saw that
one group-held something in their
hands. It was a long field glass. He
bent his agonized face once more rigid-
ly to the front. At least they would
not recognize him.
Just at this time he noticed that the
| occasional cronks began to grow feeb-
| ler, and that the geese appeared to la-
bor in their flight. They were becom-
ing tired, and must inevitably sink un-
der the weight very soon. Then he
prayed that the wings ofthe geese might
be strengthened for a season. Tle was
willing, even, like Jonah, to be cast
into the sea; anything, rather than
land in that town. Then he cluck-
ed encouragingly to his fourteen wing-
ed steeds and gently jerked the cordsas
if he was jerking the reins of his horse,
but still they labored, The old gand-
der’s hoarse ‘cronk ! cronk!” seemed to
mock him in his despair and his down-
cast spirit began to sink.
All at once he heard something whiz
by him and he saw a puffof blue smoke
away down below. A second or two
later he heard the sharp crack of a ri-
| fle,the sound having traveled slower
{ than the ball. His blood almost froze
in his veins. Horror had been added
| to horror, and his spirits sank in the
depths of despar.
But the darkest hour was just before
the dawn. The whiz of the bullet and
the report of the gun had frightened the
geese and nerved them to renewed ex-
ertions, They made one desperate "ef:
fort to reach the friendly cover of the
woods, Lundsford’s spirits rose as he
saw that the geese were likely to ac-
complish theirobject. Now the cronks
of the geese seemed more cheerful, and
the breezes brought a greatful coolness
to the man’s fevered brow. He began
to hear the solemn laugh of the forest
as the suburbs disappeared and the
| song of the pines soothed him like an
wolian harp.
{ Amile or so from town the gander
| gave a peculiar ‘cronk’ at the sight of
water, and the geese began circling to
descend. 7
| With an indescribable feeling of re-
| liel, Lundsford untightened his grip as
{ the winged chariot swung around the
| circle and he recked not ont of the icy
| coolness of the pool into which he was
| plunged.
Having made fast the end of the
i
i
|
cord to a tree he began to consider
what he would do. Fortunately at this
juncture they heard a dog bark, and
| following the friendly sound he soon
Leame in sight of a cabin in a clearing,
Concealing himself in the underbush,
he shouted a loud hello. A woman
came to the door, looked around ecuri-
{ously and went back.
“ello!” he eried again.
Then the man came to the door and
he recognized a former tenant.
“Hello, Goddard!” he cried.
» “Hello yourself; but why don’t you
i come out of the brush ?”
| “Besause I ain't fitten,”
|
“Ain't fitten 7!
“No, I haven't got on any clothes.”
“Who are you, anyhow ?”
“Come a little nearer and
you.” .
The man was a little skeptical and
came out cautiously with his gun in his
hand.
“Who are you now?" he called out
when thirty steps off.
“Sam Lundsford.”
“Sain Lundsford in that fix! Well,
I recken I'll have to help you out.”
And he went in and got the best suit of
clothes he could spare and flung them
over in the bushes. Sam jumped into
them and then sheepishly came for-
ward and told this story.
Goddard's eyes opened as he listened,
and he evidently thought Lundstord
was ofl" his balances, but when he went
with him to the creek and saw the
I'll tell
queer capers of their neighbors, who.
wild geese tethered to the tree he no
longer doubted.
Goddard loaned him a horse and he
went home. He hitched up his two
mules to the wagon and went after the
deer and turkeys.
He found them just as he had left
them and loading up the wagon with
the game he started home.
When he got within a couple of
miles of his home, a heavy shower
came up, Ie got soaked, but did not
mind that so long as he had the turk-
eys and the deer, while the geese had
already been carried home.
He forgot all about his
traces and did not notice that they were
stretching. He bestrode one of the
mules, and they quietly walked on, It
was a straight road home, with only a
little undulating.
When he stopped the mules in” the
yard and dismounted he was astonish-
ed to find that there was no wagon in
sight. There were the traces, stretch-
ing away over the hill in parallel lines
as far ashe could see. Taking in the
situation at a glance, he drove the
mules around a big oak tree once or
twice, unhitched them, and put them
in the stable. The next morning when
he got up the wagon was in the yard,
with the deer and turkeys scattered all
about. The wagon tongue had been
thrust through the oak tree and was
never pulled out. You can go there
and see it remaining to this day-"—W.,
G. C. in Atlanta Constitution.
an ————————
Pussy as a Fur-Bearing Animal,
“Cash paid for cats’ skins,” the sign
read in the window of a Washington
furrier, Who astonished the newspaper
man by telling him that there was al-
ways a good market for pussies’ pelts.
“Five cents apiece,” he said, ‘is
what we pay for common skins, ten
cents for malteese pure and twenty-five
cents for black. Of course they must
be in good condition. Some male cats
are so given to back fence warfare that
their hides become considerably dam-
aged. The fur of the sleek and well-fed
domestic pussy is what we find most
available for our purposes. Street cats
are usually too ragged and course-hair-
ed to be useful.”
“And what are the purposes of which
you speak 2"
“The imitation of more expensive
furs, chiefly. The French dye them
very skillfully, and in that way trans
form the humble tabby after death into
the regal ermine or other beasts of rare
and costly skin. The pure black and
maltese, and the tortoise shell are not
dyed, but made to serve in the natural
colors. Rugs of selected torfoise shell
and maltese are already becoming quite
fashionable, and the best ones are far
from cheap. The only use made of
cats’ pelts in this country is in the
manufacture of carriage robes, but vast
numbers of them are sent from the
United States to Europe, where they
are made into coats, hats, rugs, dress-
ing gown linings and other garments.
Taxidermists, too, in other parts of
the country are advertising for kittens
by the thousands for stuffing. In the
process they employ, the skin is first
removed, leaving only the seraped top
of the skull within it. Both head and
body are then built up with pipe clay
and tow, a piece of wire being so ad-
Justed that ove end comes out through
the forehead and the other at the tip of
the tail. To this four other wires run-
ning down the legs are fixed. Theskin
is then sewn up and the animal formed
into any desired position. The final
operation is putting in the eyes. Fast
ened upon a scrap of red flannel in this
manner, asmall black kitten makes a
very pretty pen-wiper.”
“But where do all the sking
from ?”
“Many are brought in to the city es-
tablishments that advertise for them
by small boys who are glad to earn
pocket money by the comparatively
easy method of assassinating a few un-
fortunate cats; but the main supply
is contributed by professional fur col-
lectors in different parts of the country,
who shoot them. The ravine woods of
New England are full of them running
wild. They breed wonderfully fast un:
der such seemingly adverse conditions
and can be popped off the fences and
walls with ease by an expert marks
man. This is an idle season just now
and we are advertising for them as car-
riage robe material to male up for the
fall trade. A first-rate lap robe of cat:
skin is worth $40 or £50. Yes, indeed,
pussy is beginning to be recognized as
come
rawhide |
a fur-bearing animal and, instead of
drowning the kittens, people will before
long be propagating them for their
pets.” —Washington Star.
SEN AY
Musrarp Piokres—Take one pint
each of string beans, shelled lima beans,
sweet corn, small cucumber from one
inch and a halt to two inches long,
small green tomatoes, small onions
celery cut in small pieces, carrots the
same, cauliflower cut small, six green
peppers and two ripe ones sliced; cook
in separate dishes wich a little salt: |
when about half cooked drain, and put |
all together in a large pan; mix careful- |
ly. Take two quarts of vinegar, put in
kettle; when boiling have ready one-
half pound of ground mustard; take one
cup of the mustard out, replace it with |
flour ; wet with water, mash cll the |
lumps, stir in the boiling vinegar, let
cool slowly a few minutes, add one-quar-
ter pound of white mustard seed, three
tablespoonfuls of salt, one-quarter
pound of sugar; boil two or three min-
utes; pour over the mess.
——————
The German military evolutions
have established the superiority of the
new smokeless powder supplied to that
army and now every European govern-
ment will have to furnish the same to
its army. Already Austria, which had i
the first chance at 1t and refused it,
claims to have a smokeless powder of |
her own, and doubtless the rest will fol-
low soon. As there is neither noise nor |
obscurity about this powder, its use |
must make a battle a magnificent thine |
to witness—by telescope; the powder
shoots very Ibng range hullets,
Road Mending in France.
Something That is a Good Deal Better
Done Abroad than Here.
In Harper's Weekly Mr. Joseph
Pennel has an account of road making
in France. Of course American roads
cannot be compared with the great
European highways used for so many
centuries before the days of railroads
and passing through a very thickly in-
habited country, but there may be
soms hints for our road-makers in" this
description of a model road:
“The roadway is wide enough for
two or three teams to pass. Beyond
is a sweep of beautifully kept grass,
and beyond again two great deep gut-
ters, outside of which is a bank of
earth higher than the fields which it
bounds, keeping all the water back in
the fields and off the roads. Every
hundred fect or so, cut in the grass by
taking the turf out, is a small gutter,
through which any water which may
fall in the road 1s drained into the
deeper gutter. As you ride along you
will see that the road is divided by
wovable tin signs, Near these signs,
which are usually about a mile or two
apart, you will find a man breaking
stones small enough to go through a
two and a-half-inch ring, piling the
broken stone up in a symmetrical mass
like a house roof, which must exact:
ly fit into a skeleton frame the canton-
nier places over it. These stones-brealk-
ers are at work spring, summer and
autumn. Other men will be picking
up the droppings on the road putting
them in a wheelbarrow, in another
part of which is fresh sand to sprinkle
over the place, and they carry rakes
and brooms to touch up any imper-
fections on the surface, for such a thing
as a loose stone or a lump of dnt is
almost unknown. Having gathered
up anything which mayj have fallen
from passing carts or wagons each
goes over the whole of his allotted
space with a broom about ten feet long
sweeping off the sand, which is taken
away and stored for future use or sold.
This is kept up daily from April until
October, and so thoroughly that,
though I have traveled over the roads
of France in both the wettist and driest
summers and autumns, I have never
found half an inch of dust or mud on
the Grandes Routes. The cantonnier,
when any distance from villages or
towns, have houses in which they live,
and they go to work morning and even-
ing betweengthe magnificent avenues
of poplars in the north, of eypresses
in the South, sycamores, which line so
many roads of the Mibi.
With the beginning of October and
the rainy season an inspector comes
out—though for that matter he is al-
most always traveling up and down—
followed by a large gang of men, one
or more steamrollers, which, if the
district is far from a town, full after
them gypsy vans in which the men
live. The properly broken stone is
then spread evenly over the road, the
interstices are filled up with smaller
stones and pebbles, the refuse from the
large stuff’; over this is spread a layer
of chalky or clayey earth, which has
been carted and heaped there in neat
piles during the summer; what we
would call mush-molly is made of the
whole mass with water from the gut-
ter, which the engine of the roller
pumps through the hose; the steam
roller then parades up and down over
the surface for a day or two, boards
and guards are put up to keep the
passers-by from driving on the grass,
and by the middle of winter the who'e
surface is perfect; so perfect is it that
in a ride through the Vosges in the
early spring, although there were high
snow banks on both sides, the road
having been cleared, and although
frost was coming up out of the ground
it was comparatively easy to ride on a
light bicycle, instead of being obliged
to pull the machine though a sea of
mud. This is a description of the actual
way in which French mads are kept in
repair by the Department of Ponts et
Chausses. The same system is more
or less carried out in Germany and
Italy.
er m———
A Curions Xusight into the Clock Trade.
I was chatting with the agent of a
big establishment in Park place, says
the New York Graphee, when he gave
J
|
A Tough Yarn.
“Talking of life-preservers,” said the
truthful mariner as he knocked the
ashes out of his pipe, ‘you remember
the old steamer Roustabout that used to
run from Buffalo to Chicago? 1 was
mate on her the year before she was lost.
We were about sixty miles out from
Chicago when Mike Lanagan, who fell,
struck on his head off the root of the cab-
in and bounced clean out into the lake.
‘Well, the captain seen him fall and he
stopped and backed that old Roustabout
quicker’'n you could say ‘scat.’ Mike
went down like a plummet, for he was
knocked insensible, and I know'd there
was no use to heave a life-preserver for
him so I jest hurried up the boys in get-
ting the boat down, although I didr’t
expect it ‘ud do much good. We had
Jim King on board. Passenger from
Chicago. You remember Jim King,
don’t you ?”’
“Can’t say that I do,” remarked a by-
stander.
“Well, Jim was champion quoit-throw-"
er in them days. He's dead now, poor
fellow, but Jim was a hoss on throwing
quoits. I tell you quoits were a great
game them days. Every village had a
quoit club and the boys on the farms
used to throw hoss-shoes. It was some-
thing like base ball in these times, al-
though I never could see as much fun
in base ball as I could see ina good game
of quoits.”
“Oh, come off,” cried the impatient
listener. “What did Jim do, or did he
doanything? Did the man drown ?”
“Now, don’t betoo fly. Who't tellin’
this yarn ?”’ :
“Well, you don’t seem to be.”
“Goon!” said the crowd.
“Well, you know, in quoits a ‘ringer’
was when you put the quoit around the
stake. It counted double, Well, Jim
he picks up the round life preserver—
it's like a great big quoit, you know—
and as the Capp’'n came running aft,
Jim he sings out, ‘Capp’n, I'll bet you
$5 I'll make a ringer on that man if he
comes up within the length of this
line,’
‘Bet you $20 you can’t,’’’ said the
capp’n.
‘Take your,’ ” said Jim, and just at
that minit up bobs Mike’s head about
sixty feet astern. Jim threw it, and I’11
be durned if that life preserver didn’t
go plump over on Mike's head clear
down on his shoulders, and there it
stuck. We got down the boat, and
when we got to Mike he hadn't come to
yet, and didn’t for sometime after. He'd
been a goner if it hadn’t been fur that
ringer, although it took the skin offen
his nose.”
“Did the captain pay the $20?”
“Pay it? You jist bet he did. And
Jim he handed it over to Mike, and
Mike he blew it all in when we got to
Detroit. 1 wish some ofit was here
now, fur I'm mighty dry. Thanks.
Don’t mind if I do.”
a ————
A Virginia Lad Led to the Alter at the
Revolver’s Muzzle.
West Point, Va., September 25.—B.
T. Burham and Miss Agnes Ball be-
long to the best society of the county,
and their respective fathers hold respon-
sible official positions in the public ser-
vice. Yesterday, however, the grand
jury of King William county indicted
Walter D. Ball and his son on the charge
of having forced Burham to marry the
daughter of the former at the pistol’
muzzle. Burham had been engaged to
Miss Ball, butrecently his affections had
been transferred to another young lady
at West Point.
On Wednesday morning last Walter
Ball and his son gained access to Bur-
ham’s room while he was still in bed.
They covered him with their pistols and
ordered him to dress and accompany
them. Burham, being unarmed, obey-
ed without a word. The Balls then con-
ducted him to Washington, where a
license was procured and soon after a
marriage ceremony was performed which
to all intents and purposes, made Bur-
ham and Miss Ball man and wife. Bur-
Lam never made aresponse to the ques-
tions of the officiating minister, nor did
he speak to his wite after the ceremony
was performed.
All parties returned, and yesterday
Burbam’s father laid the case before the
grard jury. Ball, the father of the
young lady, was arrested and gave rec-
ognizances to appear before the court at
the ensuing term. His son has not yet
been found.
asm eves eraser
A GrEaT TRIP AT A Low Rate via
me a curious insight into the clock | PENNSYLVANIA Rarnroan.— No uni-
trade. Says he: “Clocks are made so | formed body of men presents such a
cheaply now in large manufactories,
which use special machinery, that very
few others are ever produced. That
sounds gueer when you remember that
nearly every watch and clock maker in
this and every other large city offers to
sell elocks bearing his name and guaran-
teed by him. The explanation is that
when a fair order 1s given, any name
will be printed on the face, and instrue- |
tions as to size of letter and general
style are pretty closely observed. Then,
again, the face of a cheap clock is
about the least costly part of it, and
nothing is easier than to put in a new
face and give the clock a new
Some few prefer to sell a clock with no
name on it but the actual maker, but
they are in a minority.
i —————
A Predatory Dog Outwitted.
The other day a spaniel that had a
habit of stealing poultry, was seen ap-
proaching the house at a moderate trot
with a large roosterin his mouth. The
fowl seemed to be defunct, and so the
spaniel evidently thought, for beiug
somewhat weakened by the excursion,
and the weather being warm, he laid
down his prey for a inoment in order to
rest. But the rooster was alive and in
full possession ofall his faculties, for no
sooner did he feel himself released from
the jaws of the fell beast that had cap-
tured him, than he fluttered his wings
and struggled up among the branches
of a convenient tree. The dog was so
astounded at this miracle, as it must
have seemed to him, thatjhe lost his pre- |
| sence of mind for a second or
two, and
in that interval his booty escaped. This
tale is perfectly true(and I remember a
| very similar occurence vears ago), al-
though I must confess it sounds a good
deal like the beginning of one of disop's
Fables.
i
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gorgeous spectacle as does the Knights
Templar. It is only once in three
years that they assemble in a body in
one of the principal cities of America
and as they have selected Washington
to he the theatre of their triennial con-
‘clave this year, the double opportunity
|
name, |
to witness the brilliant eathering and
to visit the beautiful Capital City on
the Potomac will be offered from every
station on the various lines of the
Pennsylvania Railroad at one fare for
the round trip. The conclave will con-
tinue from October Sth to 11th, 1889,
and tickets will be sold October the 5th
th, 7th and 8th, valid for return trip
antii October 31st, 1889. g
stop-oft within the limit will be allow-
ed at Baltimore, Wilmington. Phila-
delphia, Trenton, Harrisburg, William-
sport, Elmira, Emporium and Corry,
as the route of excursionist may sug-
gest, The occasion will be one of the
most enjoyable seasons of the vear to
visit Washington. Specific rates will
be furnishad by agents on application.
SoME DirFERENCE.—Daughter—But,
mamma, you ought not to object to
Charley on account of his poverty. I'm
sure he has as much money as father had
when he married you. I've often heard
, you say you were as poor as church mice
when you married.
Mother—You must remember, my
dear, that your father had a good deal of
{ horse sense, which Charley hasn't—
Terre Haute Express.
———After a careful investic ation the
New York Sun estimates that there are
in that eity 40,000 workingwomen re-
ceiving wages, so low that they must
embrace vice, apply for charity, or
starve.
eturning a |
f
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|
i
Early Western Journalism,
When William N. Byers, the Colo-
rado pioneer of journalism, first started
in to print the Rocky Mountain News
he had a pretty tough time of it, and ex-
periences lively enough to suit a Ute
Indian agent, says the New York Gra-
phice
News was plentiful enough, and it was
not: generally supposed that the press
would make any editorial attacks upon
the citizens of Auraria, as Denver was
then called; so one day when Byers
found fault editorially with the killing
of a Mexican by Charles Harrison, a
gambler, the latter’s friends, fully ar-
med, gathered about and made an at-
tack upon the log house oceupied by the
News. The editor and his yeporters and
type-setters were so surprited at the sud-
den-ness of the attack that they did not
have time to make any resistance.
Editor Byers was taken a captive to
Harrison's saloon, called the “Criter-
ion.” The erowd wanted to kill him on
the spot, and knives and pistols were
flourished in his face. Harrison had
once been a Mason, and knew that By-
ers was a member of the franternity ; so,
under the pretense of taking him into a
side room to talk, he got him out of the
place altogether.
Byers was plucky enough, for he ran
tor his office, and arming all hands, laid
lo # for the enemy, who came fast en-
ough, and a lively combat took place
and one man was killed.
It was just about this time that the
Hon. Joseph Wolff of Boulder, Col.,
who was a good printer and a handy
man about an office, arrived in town
from Omaha via a frieght train.
He was dead broke, and made at
once for the News office and asked for
the boss. Byers, seated on a barrel,
was pointed out to him.
“Want any hands?’ asked Joe lean-
ing aginst the door.
“That depends,” said Byers, without
looking up.
“Depends on what?’
“Can you shoot?”’
“You bet?”
¢'Will you?”
“Of course.”
“Well, then,” said the editor, getting
off the barrel, “there’s a rifle and there’s
a case—go to work.”
“What'll I do first,” asked Wolff.
kill somebody or throw in a case?”
Byers went to the window, leaned out,
looked up and down carefully, and then
turning back said:
“I guess you'll have time to throw
in a handful.”
Just about this time the office was in
a state of siege, and to write and print
what Byers wrote and printed at that
time required a greater amount of mor-
al courage, or what is more commonly
called nerve, than is possessed by journa-
lists of the present day.
Many threats were made and more
than one combat took piace, but the
editor came out ahead, and always stuck
to the paragraph in his salutatory,which
read. “Our course is marked out. We
will adhere to it with steadfast and fixed
determination to speak, write, and pub-
lish the truth and nothing but the truth,
let it work us weal or woe.”
Out Door Entertainments,
The American climate in winter keeps
us in doors so much that it is our duty
to stay in the open air all that is possi-
ble during good weather. Pleasant
socity and sports] of differnt kinds add
to the attractions of even treesand flow-
es. ‘We hope to see handsome grounds
available for the use of people not
having extensive ones of their own;
stich, for instance, as that of the South-
ampton Horticultural Society’s grounds
in Westwood Park, Hants, England,
which are admirably adapted for all
kinds of fetes, garden parties, pic-nics,
archery meetings, etc. Tennis courts are
open all the season. The great event
of the year is the horticultural show.
‘We wish there could be more local flow-
er shows in America than there are.
No form of amusement is generally
popular if the thing is not well done, but
beware of a poor one. We never knew
a good one to fail financially unless by
gross mismanagement. A good show,
is what pleases people most, not simply
a collection of botanical rarities. If in
a rural neighborhood, have it in a tent
or under awnings, which are often effe c-
tive if scattered about, with plenty of
light and air; musie, of course, and a
crowd of well dressed people will soon
interest each other. The decorative
and florel sides are what pleases the gen-
eral public in these things, and they
shouldbe made as prominent as possible.
Success in all ways usnally depends up-
on artistic success in these particulars.
People are ready to contribute their
fruit and Howers in aid of local im-
provements or charitics, and the indi-
rect benefit to the community in the culti-
vation of taste and the amenities of life
and intercourse, is often more valuable
than what the beneficiaries receive.
rt ———
Chinamen im New York.
The Chinese quarter in Mott street
offers a very interesting sight on Sunday
afternoons. © All the laundrymen from
Brooklyn, Jersey City, and even parts
of Connecticut, come here on the Sab-
bath and make that day a time of festi-
vity. Dressed in rich silk gowns, and
smoking the ever present pipe, they
loung on the stoops, promenade in front
of there houses, or visit the liquor stores
in the neighborhood, which despite the
Excise law, have a convenient side door
open, to indulge in the seductive milk
punch or the festive cocktail, “allee
same like Melican man.” Chinamen,al-
though it may not be generally known,
are very fond of American mixed drinks
milk punches, gin cocktails and brandy
smashes having the call. [ was talking
to a bartender who dispenses liquid re-
freshments in one of the saloons con-
tiguous to Mott street, and he imformed
me that a Chinaman could stand more
liquor with out evil consequences than
two ordinary men of any other nationa-
lity. He said he had seen a Chinaman
stand up to the bar and drink fifteen
milk punches in an hour and a half, the
{ drinks being taken at short intervals,and
that the “Chinky” afterwards walked
out as straight as a lord.—[ New Yor /
Graphic-
Ee ——
The boy with a fishpole plays
a close second to the woman with a
baby wagon as a disturbing element in
a crowd.