Democratic watchman. (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1855-1940, June 12, 1891, Image 2

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    Demorraic atc,
Bellefonte, Pa., June 12, 1891.
OLD SAWS IN RHYME.
Action speaks louder than words ever do ;
You ean’t eat your cake and hold on to it too.
When the cat is away, then the little mice
play;
Where there is a will there is always a way.
There's no use crying o'er milk that is spilt :
No accuser is needed by conscience of guilt.
There must be some fire wherever is smoke;
The pitcher goes oft to the well till it’s broke.
By rogues falling out honest men get their
Whosver di fits, he must put on the shoe.
All work and no play will make Jack a cull
A thing of much beauty is ever a joy.
A half loaf is better than no bread at all ;
And pride always goeth before a sad fall.
Fast bind and fast find, have two strings to
your bow ;
Contentment is better than riches, we know.
The devil finds work for hands idle to do;
A miss is as good as a mile is to you.
You spegk of the devil, he’s sure to appear ;
You can’t make a silk purse from out of sow’s
ear.
A man by bis company always is known;
Who lives in a glass house should not throw
a stone.
Speech may be silver, but silence is gold ;
here’s never a fool like the fool who is old.
— Detroit Free Press.
A RACE FOR A HOME.
BY CHARLES M. HARGER.
A flock of mammoth white-winged
birds, resting for a moment upon the
crest of a billow of prairie—that was
the picture presented by the new town
of Leoti. It was buta few days old,
and yet as its residents looked west-
ward and saw the blue cloud-like form
of Pike's Peak looming above the hor-
izon, such was their faith in their ven-
ture that their own town appeared de-
stined to be no less permanent than
the great backbone of earth a hundred
and fifty miles distant.
Willis Emmet rode his pony slowly
as he came in view of the tented city.
“Not much of a show for a fellow,”
he thought, and he compared the
place with his native Eastern town,
with its heavy brick and stone struc-
tures and its treelined streets.
But he had little reason or disposi-
tion to muse over the past. Family
reverses had taken him from college
just after his twenty-first birthday an-
niversary, and he had come West ‘to
grow up with the country,” with little
to build upon his native pluck, for his
father’s blessing was not very available
as assets,
He had heard so much of this grow-
ing western Kansas town, that now he
had reached it he was somewhat disap-
pointed. It was sonew and so tempor-
ary to hiseyes. A close glance could
only detect a few frame buildings, and
they were small and unpainted.
Entering the place, he rode directly
to the first “land office” sign and inter-
viewed the agent regarding the possi-
bility of finding a good claim, or one
hundred and sixty acres of land, to pre
tion of government land on the other
side of the town on which no claim has
been filed. It joins the town site and
will be valuable.”
“When the boom strikes us 1t can be
laid out in lots, I suppose,” suggested
Willis,
“] wouldn't be surprised,” said the
surveyor eagerly. “The land agent has
been keeping people off it by telling
them it has been claimed. He has it
marked so on his maps. He is hold-
ing it for his brother-in-law, whom he
expects out from the East?”
“Why don’t you take it ?”
“I can't ; I've a claim entered on an-
other quarter-section already. I only
found it out a few days ago and have
said nothing about it.”
“Bat your friends.”
“I have no intimate friends near
here. I expected some through soon
and would have given them the chance
but I heard this morning that old Mose-
ley, the teamster, had a bononza
claim in view, and I know from certain
actions of his that it is this one. I'd
rather you'd get it. You will have to
go to W——to the United States Land
Office to enter your application. It is
sixty-five miles away, but if you are
quiek you can make it by to-morrow
night,”
Willis thanked his friend heartily,
and began preparations for an early
start while the surveyor took a walk
down the tent-lined street to look after
Mosely.
In a few minutes he returned much
excited.
“You must start immediately,” he
exclaimed. ‘Mosely left about noon-
No one knows where he has gone, but
Iam certain he is on his way to
W——. Is your pony fresh ?”
“Yes, I only rode six miles to-day.”
“Good! You had better get started
richt off, There's a settler's cabin fif-
teen miles from here, and you can put
up for a little rest. You will reach it
before midnight.” :
Taking a description of the claim
hastily penciled on a piece of paper and
mounting his pony, the young home-
seeker cantered away through the dark-
ness.
Only the faintess semblance of a road
showed itself, but he was used to the
prairies, and with the deep blue sky
above lighted by diamond points that
shine, brighter through the rarified air
of the prairies than nearer the sea, he
guided his way by Polaris and made
brisk time.
When he reached the cabin of which
the surveyor ‘had told him ‘he saw
light streaming from the window, and
looking in, there was a girl poring ov-
er 2 ‘book by the illumination furnish-
el by a cheap lamp. Hearing the
knock, she came quickly to the
door. :
“0h,” said she, startled as she saw a
stranger before her, “I thought it was
brother Will, Lie went to town and has
not returned. I am waiting for him,”
“Can I stay here until morning?”
was Willis’s question.
“Why, yes, if you can sleep on the
floor or in the chair; we have one
lodger already.
This was news, and a description
was eagerly asked for.
“An old man.” she said, “very tall
empt.
“Haven't a single quarter-section to
show you nearer thanjsix miles,” re-
plied that individual, rubbing his
ands. “I control nearly all the busi-
ness here, and I assure you that'll be
the best you can do. I'll gell you—"
“No,” interrupted the new comer,
“I'm not ready to buy.”
Indeed the few dollars his pocket
contained wouldihave gone but a short
distance toward a purchase.
The agent was accommodating
enough, however, to show him
a tent where he could sleep for the
night, and left him with the remark
that they would ‘look around to-mor-
Tow.”
Somewhat disappointed, Willis lay
back on his canvas cot and watched
the sun go down that evening. The
light flooded the haze rimmed circle of
prairie and changed dark grasses to
gold. The tent-tops rose and fell stead-
ly in the breeze,a meadow lark balanc-
ed and trilled on a tall suzflower near
by, and the homesick adventurer was
nodding with drowsiness, when a
strange young man of about his own
age appeared at the opening of the
tent.
It was his room-mate, a young sur-
veyor, who had been assisting in locat-
ing the line of the new railroad, which
was to make Leoti great.
“Good evening,” exclaimed Willig,
for his experience with the West had
taught him that good-natured boldness
was the best policy, “I heard that you
had room for another lodger in this
hotel, so I made myself at home.”
#Why, yes,” was the reply. “I am
*baching, you see, but I guess you can
get in since everything else is full.”
They introduced themselves with
elight formality, and when they went
to the shanty. called by courtesy
a “hotel,” for sapper, they were on
the best of terms,
Returning, Willis threw himself up-
on the cot and gave his hat a careless
tossmipon the floor of the tent.
The young surveyor, entering, stum-
bled over it, picked 1t up, gazed curi-
ously at the hat-band, and exclaimed:
“So you're one of ug ?”’
- “One of whom 2”
“Of the Phi Kappa Psi’s,”” and he
pointed to the three Greek letters of
the stranger's college society, which
were traced upon the band.
“Let's have the grip,” said Willis
laughing, “It will seem natural.”
It was given heartily, and the two
were as intimate in a short time asa
year's ordinary acquaintance could
have made them.
Their talk reverted to Western life | streets of the land office town.
and its opportunities, and Willis told
of his dreams and his disappoint- | to find the surveyor’s words correct and |
ments.
snapping in the darkness.
“How ? Give me some work ?
|
|
|
|
|
|
and stooped, with Nose and chin that
seemed to be approaching each other.”
This tallied with the surveyor’s word-
picture of Mosely, and Willis was sat-
1sfied.
It was already midnight and after
confiaing part of his story to his hos
tess, the traveler proceeded to make
the most of the room’s resources as a
lodging place. The brother did not re-
turn and the girl retirea to rest in an-
other part oft the houset where her
tather and the other lodger were sleep-
ing.
It was perhaps fouro’clock, when, as
Willis was peacefully snoring in the
big arm-chair, he was awakened to see
his new acquintance standing beside
him.
“He has gone,” she whispered.
“Who? Mosely?
“Yes.”
“Without breakfast?”
“He said he had lunch with him in
his wagon.”
Willis was wide awake now to the
necessity of quick action. Thanking
the girl for her kindness and the lunch
she had prepared, he brought his pony
from the barn where it bad made a
good meal, and swinging into the sad-
dle was again on his way,
Sunrise came and the soft-toned hlue
of the heavens, the deepening green of
the prairie and the pink flush where
they met made a picture such as only
the plains of the West can furnish.
Soon, a long distance ahead jogging
along at a tolerably fast rate, he dis-
cerned the white mules and spring wa-
gon of his rival. The sun was an hour
high before he caught up with him, for
Willis was too good a horseman to tire
his steed at the beginning of a race.
“Hello !” he shouted, ‘where are
you going ?"
“Ter Wanda, air you ?"”
“Arter land like the rest of 'em, I
‘spose 2"
“They all seem to want land, that's
a fact,” was the evasive reply and dur-
ing the remainder of the ride Willis
kept the conversation chiefly on the
subject of crops, weather and the
like.
At last, after a mile of companion-
ship be did not dare risk it longer and
putting the spurs to his pony he left
Mosely and his mules behind.
Forging on ahead he gained steadily
all the forenoon and long before the
horseman halted for noon-day rest, five |
miles from Wanda, the old teamster
had ceased to be within his range of
vision.
After a brief stop Willis went on and |
in a short time was cantering down the |
He |
drew up at the office and was rejoiced
pocket,
his
there. He did not care to meet his ri-
val if possible to avoid it.
In half an hour he saw the testy
teamster come rattling aloug the street
slashing the mules with a long snake-
whip, and make for the land offie.
When after a moment he came out
there was an expression on his face
that boded no good to the person who
had outgeneralled him. Then he came
to the hotel.
Willis did not leave his room that
afternoon or evening. He was not ex-
actly afraid of Mosely, but thought it
better to slip out quietly in the morn-
ing and return to Leoti.
But as he stepped out into the dingy
hall of the hotel at dawn who should
be the first man he met but the burly
teamster.
“Say,” was Mosely’s first words,
“you know that land I was goin’ to
claim ?”
Willis was not supposed to know, as
head affiamatively.
loot got in ahead of me; claimed it
vestiddy mornin’, too.
name?"
He had not asked it the day before,
just entered his head.
Willis started to give a fictitious
name, but he was never much ofan ac-
tor, and his face betrayed him.
“Great scott! I b'lieve you're the
fellow,” exclaimed Mosely.
His suspicion was too strong to be
overcome, and Willis pleaded guilty.
ration,
hundred dollars fer yer bargain.”
by the anxious teamster, the owner
was almost induced to take it. But he
did not, nor yet when the amount was
raised to five hundred dollars.
home to Leoti together.
The town of Leoti grew rapidly, and
the tents were soon replaced with mod-
ern frame and brick structures, To-day
1t.is one of the most thriving cities of
the plains, and has around it a well-
formed country dotted with smaller
villages.— Yankee Blade.
Taught Lincoln Grammar.
War President.
New York Sun.
remarkable old man visiting here from
Illinois.
ham Green, and he is eighty years old.
He has had a curious life, and he is
proud of the fact that he is the man who
first taught Abraham Lincoln the prin-
ciples of English grammar.
grammar,” he says, “and a mighty
smart pupil he was, too.” Mr. Green’s
story of how he came to do this and
how he did it is as follows:
“My futher moved over to Menard
living in that state ever since.
to the Illinois college in Jacksonville to
specialty of grammar. In 1830 I went
to work as a clerk in the store of Denton
Offut in New Salem, Menard county.
There I first met Abe Lincoln. He
had helped Offutt, take his float-boat on
a trading expedition down the Sanga-
mon river. They ran aground on the
store there with the goods from his boat,
This was in 1831. Lincoln was twenty
two years old at the time, bat he was
six feet four inches tall, and one of the
strongest men I eversaw. Lincoln had
steered the boat for Offutt, and, I reck-
on he had run it aground.
month in the store and Lincoln got $10
a month, He and I slept on a single
mattress on the counter, and it was so
narrow we had to sleep spoon fashion.
When he turned over, I did, too. One
night he said to me:
(Bill, haven’t you an English gram-
mar you could lend me?’
“I told him I had a Kirkham’s gram-
mar, and he said:
‘Bring it to me when you go home
on Sunday.’
“He used to read it at night after the
store shut up, and when he had read for
awhile I would hear him his lesson.
He went through the grammar in about
two weeks, and then, at his request, I
got him another grammar —Lindley
Murray’s, I think it was-— and he went
through that one the same way. In
six week he knew five times as much
about grammar as I did.
“Lincoln did something else for me
while we were in that store together--
he broke me of betting. There used to
be a fellow named Enoch Eastep, who
would come in there and spend a lot of
time loafing around. He was a betting
trifling kind of a man and he had a lot
of tricks that he was always betting on.
He had a trick of doubling up his hand
in some way so as to hide his middle
finger. Then he would bet you that
you couldn’t mark his middle finger
with a pen. I lost some coppers betting
‘with him, and one day Abe Lincoln said
to me:
«Billy, you ought to know better
than to bet on anything, but especially
to bet with a man on his own
tricks. You ought to quit it.’
‘But Abe, he’s got ninety cents the
best of me,’ I said. ‘If I could get that
back I would be willing to quit.”
‘Will you promise me that vou’ll
never bet any wore if 1 manage itso
that you can get ’way ahead of him
with one bet?’ asked Lincoln.
“Yes,” I said ‘but I hate to quit
loser.’
¢ Billy,” said Lincoln, ‘your getting
to an age when your beginning to think
a good deal about the girls. Wouldn't
you like to have a
“Yes, I would,’ said I, ‘but they
st $7 a piece, and that is more than I
can afford to pay.’
“Well,” said Abe,
‘when Enoch
“Hl | Going to the single hotel the place af- ' comes in here again and wants to bet
‘No, to get some land. I happen to | forded the new landowner asked to be with you on his tricks, you just say that
know that there is a good quarter-sec- shown a room and crdered dinner sent you don’t care to bet on such trifling
his questioner had told him nothing of
it, but the old man was so full of his
subject that the listener nodded his
“Wall,” Mosely went on, ‘some ga-|
The villin’s
name was Em—by the way, what's yer
and a shrewd suspicion seemed to have
The old fellow was at first inclined
to be angry, but when his successful
rival bad related his story he calmed
down and apparently enjoyed the nar-
“Tell yer what I'll do, gin yer three
The money was a temptation, and as
the bills were counted down on a chair
So they patched up a peace and rode
Reminiscences of a Chum of the Great
Darras, Texas, May 25,—There is a
His name is William Gra-
“I taught
Abe Lincoln all he ever knew about
county, T1I., in 1820, and I have beef
I went
get a business education, and I made a
dam at Salem, and Offutt set up his
I got $8 a
plug hat to wear |
| : when you go calling on them ?’
{ the land unrented. He took itasa | Jou.g J
“I can help you, Mr. Emmet,” said | homestead, paid the fees, and had less |
the other staring up, his eyes fairly | than five dollars remaining in
things with him, but that you will bet
that Abe can take a forty-gallon barrel
of whisky off the floor and take a dram
from the bung-hole. You say that you
will bet him a plug hat on it.”
«¢But can you doit?’ T asked.
“¢You wait until afte? the store closes
to-night and I'll show you,’ said Abe.
¢So that night he took a barrel of
whisky and chimed it up a little on his
left knee, and then tilted 1t on his right
knee, and kind of bent back, and I pull-
ed the bung out of the hole and he
took a dram sure enough, and spurted
it vight out again on the floor. The
next day I won the plug hat from
Enoch, as Abe had said I would. 7
have kept my word ever since, and I've
never bet on anything. And what's
more, I wouldn’t for $1,000.
“Lincoln left the store after a while
and went to work hauling logs to the
saw mill for William Kirkpatrick.
Kirkpatrick had eight or ten other men
working for him, and he paid them each
$10 a month. Lincoln drove an ox
team and had a boy to help him. One
day Lincoln told Kirkpatrick that he
wanted to get a cant-hook to help him
load the logs on the wagon. He said
that a cant-hook would cost only $5,
but Kirkpatrick said: ‘Now, Lincoln,
if you'll manage to haul the logs with-
out the cant-hook I'll give you $3 a
months extra.” Lincoln said that he
would do it, but at the end of the month
he only got $10, instead of $13. When
he asked for the other $3, Kirkpatrick
said: ‘Abe, I can’t pay you $3 extra.’
‘But, you promised to do it,” said Abe,
‘Yes,. I know,” said Kirkpatrick, ‘but
the other men would raise hell if I paid
you more than they are getting, so I
can’t do it.’ Lincoln quit work for
Kirkpatrick then,
“The next year, in 1832, old Black
Hawk came back into Illinois with the
Sacs and Foxes, and militia companies
were raised to go to fight them. All the
young men went into the Black Hawk
war, and Lincoln and I were among
them. Major Mosé® K. Anderson came
to form the companies and get them in-
toshape. Now, Kirkpatrick was very
anxious to be elected captain of our com-
pany and so was Abe Lincoln. Major
Anderson got us all together, and then
he called out
“You aspirants for the captaincy
walk twenty paces to the front and face
the line.’ Kirkpatrick and Lincoln
stepped out and faced about.
“ ‘Now,’ said the Major, ‘the rest of
you fall in alongside of the man you
want for your captain!’
«I was the first to run to Lincoln’s
side, and I stood at his right. Kirkpa-
trick’s men formed on his left. After
a while, when all had chosen, there
were two long lines, one to the right of
Lincoln and one to the left of Kirkpa-
trick. Then we saw that Lincoln had
beaten Kirkpatrick two to one and had
seven over to spare. I'll never forget
how, when Abe saw how things had
gone, the old fellow put his big, horny
hand on my shoulder, and I could feel
him all trembling with delight, as he
said:
«Bill, T’ll be damned if I hain’t beat
him I’ That was the first time that I
ever heard Abe swear, and I know he
must have been powerful excited to do
it.
“Tt was at that time that Lincoln
first met Jefferson Davis. Zachary
Taylor and Davis were both there and
Jeff Davis swore Lincoln into the ser-
our company. Isaw him do it.”
Mr. Green had many other reminis-
cences of Abraham Lincoln’s young
manhood. It was in 1862 that they
came together again, but each had
watched the other’s career with great in-
terest. When Lincoln was nominated
for the presidency ex-Governor Deani-
son, of Ohio, went to Springfield to see
him and get from hima sketch of his
life, to be used for campaign purposes.
Lincoln said: Oh, letit alone; I never
did anything worth writing aboat.”
The Governor insisted that a sketch was
necessary, and then Lincoln gave the
governor names of some of his friends
to get his history from. Among these
names was Green's, and Lincoln said
when he gave it to Dennison: ‘He
knows what not to tell you, which is
more important than what hes does tell
you.” In 1862 Mr. Green had become
president of the Tonnekey and Peters-
burg railroad, now a branch of the Chi-
cago and Alton. He was a very busy
man. One day he received a message
from Lincoln to come to Washington.
He went and Lincoln said to him:
“Billy, I want you to be internal ve-
venue collector for your district. It
takes a very determined man for the
place, for L. W. Ross, that copperhead
congressman of yours, is giving the gov-
ernment trouble there.”
“I tried to beg off,” said Mr. Green
in telling the story yesterday. “I told
Lincoln that I had invested all my mon-
ey in the railroad, and that I couldn’t
put it through, perhaps, unless I gave it
my undivided attention.
«Billy,” he said, ‘whether you are
rich or broke, you must do all you can
for the country. You have four sons
in the army, I know, but if we don’t
. .
save the country we will all go to bell
in a hand basket anybow, so you must
take the place. You can resign in
three or four months, and T’'ll let you
name your successor.’
“So I went back home and took the
the office and the first thing I did was
to plant a cannon near Ross’s place and
make my headquarters close’ to it.
Then [ sent for Ross and said to him:
‘I have trained that cannon on that fine
brick house of yours because I want you
to do all you can to help me in my
work.” And Ross turned in and helped
me, too. I never had any trouble with
him after that.”
~ Mr. Green would not say who was his
choice for the presidency in 1892, but
be did say that he had never voted any-
{ thing but a straight Democratic ticket,
except when he voted for Lincoln, and
that he would keep up the practice as
long as he lived.
~«—T have been a great sufferer from
dry catarrh for many years, and I tried
many remedies, but none did me so much
benefit as Ely’s Cream Balm. It com-
pletely cured me. M. J. Lally, 39
Woodward Ave, Boston Highlands,
Mass.
—— The editor wrote it correctly:
¢ Let the galled jade wince.” Dut this
is the way it appeared in the paper:
“Let the gallon jug wait.”
| vice of the Tnited States as captain _of |
Babies.
How Little May Made ¢ Dashjul Pair
of Lovers Blush Scarlet.
In His “Diary of a Pilgrimage,”
Jerome K. Jerome tells this one, and a
“pretty good one’ itis, too: I was
walking up and down the garden when,
on passing the summer house, Iover-
heard my eldest niece, aged 7, who was
sitting very upright in a very big chair,
giving information to her younger sister
aged 5, on the subject of ‘* Babies,” their
origin, discovery and use.”
“You know, babies,” she was remark-
ing in conclusion, “ain’t like dollies.
Babies 1s ’live. Nobody gives you ba-
bies till you've growed up. An’ they're
very improper. We're not g’posed to
talk 'oout such things—we was babics
once.”
She is a very thoughtful child, is my
eldest niece. Her thirst for knowledge
is a most praiseworthy trait in her char-
acter, but has rather an exhausting -ef-
fect upon the rest of the family. We
limit her now to seven hundred ques-
tions a day. After she has asked seven
hundred questions, and we have answer-
ed thern, or, rather, as many as we are
able, we boycott her; and she retires to
bed, indignant, asking :
“Why only seven hundred ? Why
not eight 7’
Nor is her range of inquiry what you
would call narrow or circumscribed at
all. It embraces most subjects that are
known as yet to civilization, from ab-
stract theolagy to cats ; from the failure
of marriage to chocolate, and why you
must not take it out and look at it when
you have once put it inside your
mouth. :
She has her own opinion, too, about
most of these matters, and expresses it
with a freedom which is apt to shock
respectfully -brought-up folk. I am not
over othordox myself, but she staggers
even me af times. Her theories are too
advanced for me at present.
She has not given much attention to
the matter of babies hitherto. It is on-
ly this week that she hasgonein for that
subject. The explanation is —I hardly
like mentioning it. Perhapsit--I don’t
know, I don’t see that there can be any
harm in it, though. Yet, well the fact
of the matter is, there is an ‘event’ ex-
pected in our family, or rather, in my
brother-in-law’s ; and there ! you know
how these things get discussed among
relatives, and May--that it is my niece’s
name—I1s one of those children that you
are always forgetting is about, and nev-
er know how much it has heard and
how much it has not.
The child said nothing, however, and
all seemed right until last Sunday after-
noon. It was a wet day, and I was read-
ing in the breakfast-parlor, and Emily
was sitting on the sofa, looking at an
album of Swiss views with Dick Chet-
wyn. Dick and Emily are engaged,
Dick is a steady young fellow, and Em-
ily loves him dearly, I am sure; but
they both suffer, in my opinion, from an |
overdose of modesty. As for Emily, it
does not so much matter ; girls are like
that before they are married. But in
Dick it seems out of place. They both
of them flare up quite scarlet at the
simplest joke even. They always make
me think of Gilbert’s bashful young
couple.
‘Well, there we were, sitting round,
the child on the floor, playing with her
bricks. She had teen very quiet for
about five minutes, and [ was just won-
dering what couid be the matter with
her, when, all of a sudden, and with-
out a word, of warning, she observed in
the most casual tone of voice, while
continuing ker building operations: J
“Is Auntie Cissy going to have a lit-
tle boy-baby, or a little girl-baby,
uncle ?”’
“Oh, don’t ask silly questions; she
hasn’t made up her mind yet.”
“Oh, oh! 1 think I should ’vise her
to have a little girl, ‘cause little girls
ain’t so much trouble as boys, 1s they ?
Which would you ’vise her to have,
uncle ?”
“Will you go on with your bricks,
and not talk about things you don’t un-
derstand ? ‘We're not supposed to talk
about those sorts of things at all. Itisn’t
roper.”’ .
“What isn’t p’oper? Ain’t Labies ?
“No ; very improper, especially some
‘of them”?
“ 'Umph ! then what's people have
‘em for, if they isn’t p’oper 7”
“Will you go on with with your
bricks, or you will not ?
® # * *
“Shall I have a baby when
growned up ?”’
‘Oh bother the child! Yes, if you're
good and don’t worry, and get mar-
ried.”
I'm
“What’s married ? What mumima
and pappa is ?’
Yes.”
“And what Antie Emily and Mr,
Chetwyn is going to be ?”
“Yes ; don’t talk so much.”
“Will Ayntie Emily have a—7?"
“Go CN WITH YOUR BRICKS 7”
ER SE TO TA
He Will Not “Make Her Obey.”
In a Sheffield church the other day a
marriage ceremony came to an abrupt
and altogether unlooked for termination.
It was the fault of the would be bride-
groom, and most people would say in
losing his bride he met his deserts.
The ceremony went on right enough
till the clergyman, addressing himself
to the woman, put the question whether
she would have the man to be her hus-
band, “to love, honor and obey.”
At the mention of the word ‘‘obey”
the bridegroom ejaculated: “I'll make |
thee.”
“Are we married yet?” asked the wo- |
man of the clergyman.
“No, you are not,” he replied.
“Then we shall not be,” said she, and
thereupon she left the church.
The man protested that it was
late, but she heeded him not, and his
discomfiture was made none the less
when the parson told him that she had
acted very sensibly.
I CTT TT—
too |
—— You must desire to improve your
heart, and so become good. You must
desire to improve your head, and so
become well informed. But you must
desire first to become good. That is
the first and great end of life.
s—————
——The most remarkable cures of
gerofula on record have been accom-
plished by Hood's Sarsaparilla, Try it.
Sold by all druggists.
| eard into the hat in the centre,
Invention of the Shu. lower.
“Betore Watts had his dream,” says.
The Mechanical World, *iue making of
shot was a slow, laborious ana conse-
quently costly process. Wats nad to
take great bars of lead aud pound them
out into sheets of a thickuess nearly
equal to the diameter of the shot ne
desired to make, He then had wo cual
these sheets 1nto litle cubes,piace the
cubes in a revolving barrel and roll the
barrel around uuul by the constant
friction the edge wore off’ from che lit.
tle cubes and they became spheroids.
“Watts had often racked his brain
try'rg to discover some better and less
costly scheme, but in vain. Finally,
atier spending an evening with some
boon companions at the alehouse, he
went home and went to bed. He soon
fellinto a profound siamber, but the
stimulants he had imbibed apparently
disagreed with him, for his sleep was
disturbed by unweicome dreams. He
imagined he was out again with the
‘boys,’ and that as they were stumbl-
ing homeward in the dark it began to
rain shot. Beauttul globules ot leau,
polished and shining, fell in a torrent,
and compelled him and his bibulous
companions to drag their heavy limbs
to a place of shelter.
“ln the morning when Watts arose
he remembered his dream. He turned
it over in his mind all day and won-
dered what shape molten lead would
assume in falling through the air.
These thoughts tormented him so
persistently that at last, to set his mind
at rest, he carried a ladleful of molten
lead to the top of the steeple of the
Church of St. Mary, of Redclitl, and
dropped it intoa boat below, Descend-
ing, he took from the bottom of the
shallow pool several handfuls of the
most perfect shot he had ever seen.
Watts’ fortune was made, for he had
conceived the idea of the shot tower,
which ever since has been the only
means employed in the manufacture of
the little missiles so important in war
and sport.”
“The Chicago Special.”
New Train to the West via Pennsyl-
vania Railroad.
In order to increase its present su-
perb facilities between New York and
Chicago, the Pennsvania Railroad Com-
pany will, on June 7th, place in service
an additional fast express train between
these points. The new train will be
known as the “Chicago Special.” It
will be composed of two Pullman Ves-
tibule Sleeping Cars, one Combination
Smoking Car, two Pennsylvania Rail-
road Standard Coaches, and a Dining
Car. The entire equipment will run
through to Chicago, except the dining
car, which will be dropped after supper
at Altoona. Anvother dining car, for
the service of breakfast and dinner, will,
however, be attached to the train at Al-
liance.
The “Chicago Special” will leave
New York every day at 4.00 P. M.,
Philadelphia 6.25 P. M., and stopping
at Harrisburg, Altoona, Pittsburg, and
principal points on the Fort Wayne
route, arrive in Chicago 5.15 p. m. the
next day.
The east-bound counterpart of this
train willbe known as the “Keystone
Express.” It will leave Chicago via
the Fort Wayne route at 10.45 a. m. ev-
ery day, and arrive in Philadelphila
11.25 a. m. and New York2p.m. It
will be equipped in every respect as the
west-bound train, and will carry a dia-
ing car from Chicago to Alliance, and
Altoona to New York.
These trains will be equipped with
the best grade of new cars, they will
run on a fast schedule, and the hours of
departure and arrival at prominent cen-
tres commend them at once to the fav-
orable considerations of travelers.
Why Razors Grow Blunt.
The finest grades of razors are so de-
licate that even the famous Damascus
sword blades cannot equal them in tex-
ture, Itis not generally known that
the grain of a Swedish razor is so sensi-
tive that its general direction is chang-
ed after a short service. When you
buy a razor the grain runs from the
upper end of the outer point in a diago-
nal direction toward the handle. Con-
stant strapping will twist the steel un-
til the grain appears to be straight up
and down. Subsequent use will drag
the grain outward from the edge so
that after steady use for several months
the fibre ot the steel occupies a position
exactly the reverse of that which it did
ou the day of purchase.
The process al-o affects the temper
of the blade, and when the grain sets
from the lower and onter point toward
the back, youn have a razor which can-
not be kept in condition, even by the
most conscientious barber. But here's
another curious freak that will take
place in the same tool: Leave the ra-
zor alone for a month or two, and
when you take it up you will find that
the grain has assumed its first position.
The operation can be repeated until
the steel is worn through to the back.
EE ST —
An Amusing-Game.
The players in this game are-divided
into two opposing sides and sit in two
half circles at the same distance every
way around a gentleman's silk bat
placed on the floor in the centre. Two
differently colored packs of cards are
then given, one to each party, and by
them equally dealt out to each player.
The aim is for each player to throw a
which
is not nearly so easy «a thing to do as
may be supposed, and the tloor is soon
littered with the cards which fail to go
into the hat. The game is played till
both packs are exhausted ; then those
cards that are in the hat are counted,
and the side that has most of its own
color wins. This game may also be
played by each player being singly
opposed to each other and by the play-
ers standing up instead of sitting. It
requires a considerable knack to do it
well, and to throw the card in such a
manner that it falls into the hat.
— Brooklyn Citizen.
I