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I l I II I! V 11 I II I I M I U V "V II YT Y III t V f VT l a T x f rTajS f . V Iflll 1 J"J I IV II I WlfN V V f Kl I III
i H
I
B. P. SCHWEIER,
the ooisnrunoi-TEE uhoi-aid tee EfroxoncEiT or the laws.
Editor and Proprietor.
VOL. XXXVII.
MIFFLINTOWN, JUNIATA COUNTY. PENN A.. WEDNESDAY. SEPTEMBER 5.18S3.
NO. 3o.
5
I
f 3
J
BETTER THINGS.
"J,""' ndden brook, than watch
a diamond shine. cn
Better the love of a jp-nial heart than
beauty's favors proud'
Better the rose s living seed thsu roses In a
crowd.
Brtter to love in loneliness than to bak in
love all day;
Better the fountain in the heart than the
fountain by the way.
Better be fed by mother's hand than eat
alone at will;
Better to trunt in good and say, "My coods
my store-house fill."
Better to be a little wise than in knowledge
to altound;
Better to teach a child than toil to (111 rr
fection's round
Better to sit at a master's feet than thrill a
listening state;
Better to usict that thou art proud than
be sure that thou art great.
Better to wa'k the real unseen than watch
the hour's event;
Better the Weil done!" at the last than the
air with shouting rent.
Better to have a quiet grief than a hurry ina
delight; B
Better the twilight of the dawn than the
noonday burning bright.
Better a death when work is done than
earth's most favored birth;
Better a child in God's great house than the
king of all the earth.
TRYING HER POWER,
"1 can hold him against the world."
The speaker was a tall girl, with
dark face, from which eyes of witchery
looked out. She had lips which were
slightly compressed, as she finished the
sentence.
"I would not be so sure, if I were
you,' was the response from the other
person, who stood on the path which
led to the road from the country house
behind them.
The two girls had strolled down the
walk in the crisp winter sunlight, and
they looked as unlike as two people
could well be.
Julia Stallo turned her head with a
quick, imperious movement, as she ex
claimed: "Why would you not feel sure, since
I am sure? Do you think I would give
my promise to a man who did not adore
me?''
"But men may adore at one moment
and be indifferent the next," returned
Miss Branch, stopping to twist more
closely about her head the blue, puffy
mass of wool which protected her from
the cold.
"'The man whom I love will not do
so." was the quick reply.
Miss Branch, who was four or five
yearsolder than the magnificent bruuette
beside her, looked at her curiously, in
silence for a time.
Miss Branch was small. One at first
would have said she was plain, but one
uii&ht discover that her face possessed
a wonderful iower of expression; there
might be a concentrated spark in her
eyes that would possess force in what
ever way she chose.
After a pause, she said, quickly:
"I should imagine it might be easy
for a man to be faithful to a creature
like you. Is Mr. North coming to
day?" "Yes."
"I think you make a great mistake
in loving a hum so much. Ah! what is
that?"
The exclamation was caused by the
sound of somethiug rushing through the
shrubberry of the evergreens at tne
right of where the two girls were stand
ing. Julia Stallo shrieked a little and
shrank to one side, and at the same
moment, a huce. dark-colored dog
dashed out from the cedai hedge. II is
und was down, his mouth scattered
foam, and his eves emitted siarks.
While Julia, who had sprung away,
had gone directly in the path of the
infuriated animal. Miss Branch, who
liad remained where she had been
standing, was several yards from him.
The brute was going on with that
unswerving leap which is so terrible to
see, and had passed Miss Branch, who
had not moved, toward Julia Stallo,
who seemed petrified with terror in tlie
spot where she stood.
"for God's sake, jump out of the
way?" cried Miss branch, shrilly, ' i.e
will not turn!"
If Julia heard her she gave no sign;
.1,,, n'oa inoilitililo flf niOVilllT.
-Till; ..MO A..V-f . E . , t
Miss Branch could not stand quietlj j
There was a dash of physical course
in her which enabled her to spring
ward, slipiied off the f
i.or uimnlilprs as she did
HO,
then flaunting it fuil in the face of the
wild-eved animal, who moved to on.-I
side, ana wavereu mwiu ,
and wavered in coniusion,
Julia staiio saiia. w 6 , ,
.iiii i& awiu 11 . . . .
heaD. and her white face was liKe u -
face of the dead, save for the proiru -
ing eyes of horror. .
The doe. baffled for the moment, ano
uncertain,
icertain, now turned toward Jiu&
Branch,
run. She
Useless for her to . uj
clasid her hands and stooo
Only for a breath of time, however.
ThVSund of a footstep on the frozen
n-MVPl miffht have been
heard by the
friri. if they could
have heard anj-
1
tUThe footstep was that of some one
runnmg Turhmsly. The figure of a man
Sed HeIiadapistolmhish.md.
anKusrh. there was a terrible torui
Z TiniiTthat he might not aim correct
iv lm could not hesitate.
The teL the report of the pwtu ,
Lway from the grip of the dying dog s
t? " L'Lfhad come b:ick to
V. as lie W"" " i.
Sose senses badrmeb:to
juiia, n3 VT" nable her to recog-
mtly
nize ner oe. - been so
Sm. aTempUtionto
STK'Er and walked s.oo
down the pato. heard her
back, she saw u-
her. .. mti nearer, the
When tney - ""T his
man hurr ed inaTnotquite
w ooiH in a tone whienwaauuv i
iw, ?
teady: will think
I do not Kno moment
of us- 1 coniess x w w T stallo 1
Capable of thinking only of Miss btauo. ji
S tJr? 1 know- I n-
t lu h2w ?rateful 1 am to you."
A hSf )?hy '" Miss Branch.
Although her words were abrupt, the
to.c m which she spoke then waTfar
from being so. There was a silky soft
"ff.1? that Julia Stallo had never
heard before, and which made her look
quickly at the girl who had spoken
them while a pain, that wasalmost like
herheart. mSt' suddenly weut through
Miss Branch had only glanced at Mr.
-ortn as she had replied, and he had
not given any thought to her, so pro
foundly was he absorbed in the danger
which had so recently threatened the
woman he loved.
When the two walked away again,
Miss Branch turned into another
bath, and walked runi.liv ,.,.-. i ik.
house.
There was a flush on her rh-k and
spark in her eye, and aspect although
different from that which she had worn
an hour before.
n hen she reached hr own nuini alia
sat down before the fire without remov
ing her own wrajw. Looking into the
burning coals with an insane gaze,
her face gradually clianged, until
Julia Stallo would hardly have kuown
it.
The white hands were held tinhtlv
together until their beauty and they
were very beautiful was marred by the
rude pressure.
W bat do I owe to anv man amnntr
them?" she asked, at length, in a half
whisper. "And as for Julia, she is a
baby in her feelings, and will not suffer
much."
She rase and walked with a deter
mined air across the room. At this
moment some one knocked. She open
ed the door and Julia stood there.
May I cme in?" asked the girL
I was just coming to discover if
you were still frightened," responded
Miss Branch taking Julia's hand in
her own, and looked with more than
ordinary keenness into the girl's face.
"lwn't sieak of it," cried the other
with a shudder. "I can never be able
to see a dog again without a shudder.
I shall never be able to see a dog again
without a fright. Think of what might
have been, if Luke bad not come! lie
says he admires you for your presence
of mind, although you are but how I
do chatter!" catching herself up with
a blush. lie admires you so much."
'Even though I am plain," calmly
remarked Miss Branch, no flush staiu
ing her cheeks as she speke words dif
ficult for a woman to accept.
"But I did not mean to tell you
that," caressingly said Julia.
Miss Branch laughed, not bitterly to
the ear in the least.
"Oil, I don't mind it at all," site said,
lightly. "I am plain, and I know other
people know it."
In her heart, the women was saying:
"lie sliall pay for those words."
In the days that followed, it would
have been a curious study lor one not
vitally interested to have watched the
change in Luke North's manner toward
Miss Branch.
Gradually, from a polite listener to
her, he came to turn with an appareut
ly irresistible inclination toward that
part of the room where she happened to
be.
lie stood near her chair;, he looked at
her if he spoke; he listened with a pe
culiar vivid look upon his face when she
made any remark.
This attention was not marked; on
the contrary, it almost seemed as if he
were desirous of concealing even from
his own consciousness the attraction
which Miss Branch held for him, and
which every day he felt more and more
powerfully.
Had lie ever thought her unprepos
sessing? When Julia reminded him
one day that he had said Miss Branch
was plain, he uttered an exclamation
of astonishment, but made no other
replv. His betrothed, iu a troubled
tone, persisted ou dwelling upon the
subject.
"I suppose she must but be fascina
ting, is siie not?" she asked wistfully.
'ii:e man's face wore a strange smile.
He averted his eyes, as he remarked, in
a harsh voice:
"Fascinating! Yes, 1 think that
mast be the word by which to describe
your friend and she is your friend, is
she not?" asking the question sudden-
Julia Stallo trembled a little, and
turned pale. Sue seemed to struggle a
moment with herself, and then she said,
faintly:
"Oil, yes! Of course she is my
friend." ...
rtie winter days ra,n on. .Miss israncn
.. ... .;tli liar f ri.-:.T until
,,aJ come to stay with her fn.
j I u diJ u Jiappei; that Mr Xorth
sometimes come to the house,
t . reulain perhaps, for a couple of
' and remain,
hours before Julia would come into the
, ,. olwaVs scrupulously called
fof her the moIueut he came, but he ap
..eared to forget she naa not come.
. i f . d when julia
! Xorth hild strolling
about the Ioom m 8i,ence, Though he
did not gpeak fais eyes returned again
and again to the woman wuo sai i
quietly on the sofa. There was a reck-
less resolve in ni ""
was mingled with something which
nld not be interpreted, which any
,ni(riit do weU to fear, even
thoug'v she could not understand iU
North came ana leuucu vc gm.
Ilis voice vibrated, as he said:
4.liua Kranpni"
She looked up a light, bewildering
nthra linr. was m ner ejea, auu
diffased in a lovely glow over the hith
imlovflv f:ice.
I l IV' " J . . . ,
"What would you3ay to me h. x cic
to tell you that I love you?" he asked
1 liuna I'i 111 III im UU lUlOMsnuia
in hr eves: there could be but
Le reading of the curves about the
tu Th hindins loveliness that
iui.ui.u, - T ; , muHa
was in the gaze at iuai
the man's heart almost ouuu nun.
she reaUy love him?
"Yes, answer. ' imperative.
"Then 1 should say that I love you,
v.A sivikpn renlv.
Something in the man's face made
Miss Branch suddenly rise to her feet,
while her face grew palid, and the glow
"You are mocking me!" she cried,
. - o,nir,il voice. "You do not
Ul tM oiuwiv
lave me?"
"I am thinking of a young man, my
baif-brother, whom I love wore than
brothers usuaUy love," returned N orth,
fn a stern voice, "You may recall
Morris Loring. Ah, I see you do! lou
killed him, that you might be amused.
Perhaps it was not manly of me to re
wive to avenge him in some slight de
!?ee. But I did not think of so base
Ktion untU I fancied you ubed to
Jteywitb me. I o not love you, Miss
Branch, but I can understand how a
man might be infatuated with you. It
was beneath me to stoop to sued a
course as this. I dont ask you to for
give me."
"Xo, no," said Miss Branch, her
voice husky and strange. "Do not ask
that, for I never could do so."
"And why?"
"Because I love you. At last I love
Do not sjieak to me. 1 tell you that
for the first time in my life, I love. Do
you think 1 am sufficiently punished
for trying my power? Do you pity me,
air. .North?"
She stood looking at him for an in
stant, then turned and hurried from
me room.
Xorth gazed blankly at the door
wmc'i had closed behind her. lie had
not known how much he could despise
himself, and there was a curious pul
sation in his heart which made him un
willing to see Julia.
it was a week before he returned to
the house. When Julia unformed him
of Miss Branch's departure, he would
not allow himself to manifest any in
terest. The few weeks that had passed
had termed an episode in his life winch
he could not wish to remember.
The I'nunished ManMript.
Some time ago the writer visited
Prof. Gailnet, of Little Bock, Ark.,
and while sitting in the library, en
gaged m conversation with the enter
taining gentleman, observed a roll of
manuscript tied with a strip of black
cloth. We asked him if it were some
thing designed for publication.
'It will never be published," he
said, and began to unroll it. "See
how it ends," and glancing at the bot
tom of the last page we read the fol
lowing: "While he sat alone, deeply
musing, a hearse passed the house, and
''here the sentence broke off. Be
questing, almost imploring, the Profes
sor to tell us the history of the curious
manuscript, he finally consented.
'I came to Arkansas when 1 was a
young man. On night 1 sat in my
library writing a story for a magazine.
I was m good health and had cause to
feel elated over the success I had just
attained by the publication of a small
volume of sketches, but still I felt the
heavy weight of melancholy depression.
1 arose and walked out, but soon re
turned, not experiencing any change.
I bent myself to the work or writing a
dreary story and worked with surpris
ing rapidity until 1 wrote. 'A hearse
passed the house and Here I stopped.
A strange presentiment told me that 1
would never finish the sentence. Next
day I took up my pen to finish it, but
I had not touched the paper with the
pen when a piercing shriek caused me
to spnng to my leet and rusu ixom the
room just in time to see a horse, at
tached to a buggy, dashing wildly to
ward my gate. A frightened woman
was in the buggy and 1 rescued her.
I put the manuscript away and devo
ted myself to my new acquaintance;
our friendship grew into love and fin
ally we married, lhen followed ten
years of happiness. I did not tell my
wife of the unfinished manuscript, but
one day she found it and begged me to
hmsh it, I did not bke to confess my
foolish fears, and finally I told her that
I would. Ihe next night, after my
wife bad gone to bed, I took down the
story and read it over. I would finish
it for her sake. I took up the pen and
was just in the act of touching the pa
per when my wife called me, I ran to
her and found her in a dying condition,
having been attacked by rheumatism
of the heart.
"Have you ever attempted since to
finish it?"
'Yes. After my wife had been dead
tor several years I determined one
night to hmsh the story. I went to
the desk, but had no sooner dipped my
pen in the ink when a noise in an ad
joining room attracted my attention.
Hurrying in the room 1 found my son
lying on the floor dead. He had al
ways been in wretched health and had
committed suicide?"
"Do you ever exiwct to finish the
story?"
M expect to try again, it is impossi
ble for me to remain superstitious,
even though I may have a powerful
cause for doing so. Of course, all this
would have happened even if 1 bad not
begun the story. I think that next
Tuesday night, if I feel like it, I shall
devote myself to the completion of the
work, for I desire to see it in print.
Gome up and see me start off."
e were busy when 1 uesday night
came, and cowardly confession were
not sorry that something kept us away.
Larly ednesday morning we hurried
to the house where for years the pro
fessor had lived. The horrible thought
seized us that he had taken up his pen
to finish the story and had fallen dead.
Some time elapsed before we had the
courage to knock at the door. At last
we rapped.
No answer.
Another rap.
No answer.
With blond almtwt at freezini? noint.
and with hair standing ercet, we shoved
open the door. The old man sat lean
ing back in his chair, eating pie.
"Goniein,"hesaiacheertuiiy. "lou
see I have just finished that story, and
it gave me an appetite for pie, ne s a
good thing to eat after you finish up a
story, but you want to wait until you
are through writine."
"Did you hear any strange noises.'"
we asked, "when you began to write."
"Well. yes. A calf over in an aa
joining yard bawled for a while. Oh,
yes. you are thinking about that story
I told you some tune ago. v ell, my
dear fellow, you should not have been
so foolish as to- have ueueveu me.
never was married, you know. Have
some pie."
Older UiMlleJLookeil.
Colonel George L. Perkins, of Nor
wich, Conn., who celebrated his With
birthday Sunday. August 6, and is as
hale and hearty as most men at 50
years, was a witness in the Tilton-
Beecher trial in isio. M hen his name
was called the cr jwd in the Court-room
saw a good-looKing, dignified gentle
man, apparently about bU years old,
step briskly to the stand. Having an
swered the usual questions as to his
name and residence, Mr. Evarts pro
pounded the succeeding question
"How long have you lived in Norwich,
Colonel Perkins?" "Eighty -seven
years," responded the Colonel with the
utmost gravity. The lawyers dropped
their pens, the spectators stared, the
Judge looked puzzled, and the jury
were in evident doubt whether there
was a lunatic loose or a new liar had
arrived. A ripple of merriment suc-
seeded as Mr. Evans, with great
seriousness, inquired a moment later:
"Colonel Perkins, may I ask where you
have spent the rest oi your lire?"
Died Oaina."
It is morning on the prairie.
To the east is the rosy sunrise and
the dim, far-away outline of a moun
tain range; to the north a shadowy line
which may mean hills or timber; to the
west and south a broad, level ocean of
green grass which has no limit. It
seems as level as a floor to the eye, but
it is rut up witli dry ravines and ditches,
and there are sharp ridges and dips and
sunken spots.
The sun is warm, the air still, and
every blade of grass is loaded with dia
mond dew-droiis. 1 here is no bird to
chirp, and no crickets to call out, but
there is no reeling ot loneliness, one
who faces that morning sun and feels
the vastness of the prairie is lost in quiet
amazement. There is an awe upon
him akin to that which man feels when
he sees the ocean lashed to mighty fury.
1 he one is an exhibition of JJi vine anger
the other of Divine peace.
See! A rough-clad, full-bearded man.
of iron muscle and fearless courage.
suddenly rises from a hollow, tos-tes
aside his blanket, and slowly turns his
head in every direction to scan the
green grass sea. At the same momeut
his horse emerges from a dip which has
heretofore sheltered him, and, with a
whinny of recognition and pleasure,
advances straight upon his master.
Alone! Mau and horse are the only
living creatures in sight. They are as
much lost to the world as two grams of
sand washing to and fro in the Atlantic.
The master's hand steals up until it
rests upon the horse's neck, and the faith
ful animal crowds a bit nearer. Both
are awed by the broad expanse. The
mighty grandeur of Nature steals in
upon the man's soul, and it seems to
pass like an electric current tothe horse,
lie raises bis head. His nostrils ex
pand. His eyes grow clearer and larger.
Surely he must see the picture spread
ut before him there, and something of
us beauty must be felt.
See that! The man's hand goes up to
his eyes. He is looking straight to the
west. He stands like a rock, and his
eyes are as keen as an eagle's. The
horse is looking in the same direction,
ears pricked forward, lips quivering and
every muscle in his legs tightened up as
if for a race. What is it.' Anuiteron
the surface of the prairie caught the
man's eve for an instant and then dis
appeared. It was two miles away. It
was only a trine; but on that trifle de
pends his life. A shipwrecked sailor
catches his breath at sight of every
white cloud creeping above the water
line. The hunter on the prairie feels
his heart pound at the flutter of a
bird's wing the bark of a coyote the
hoot of an owl at sight of a hoof-print
or a broken bush. These may mean
nothing, or they may mean an ambush
a race for life capture aud torture.
"Yi! yi! yi!"
The level seeming prairie is broken
two miles away by a dry ravine deeper
than a man's height. This curves and
liends aud leads on for miles. Scramb
ling out of its depths, aud each one
sounding his war-whoop as he mounts
his pony, are a score of Indians.
x or two days the hunter lias swept the
horizon in vain. He was alone on the
great ocean. Night had been tranquil
and full of sonnd sleep. Here, now,
rising like Siecters from the earth be
fore him. Is a band of blood-thirsty de
mons raving for his life. The sight
stuns him for a few seconds. Then,
with a growl of chagrin and defiance.
he flings the saddle upon his horse,
picks up his ride, and while yet the In
dians are.i mile and a half away, he
mounts aiiu heads tor the east.
A race for life has begun.
The hunter's horse strikes into a long.
steady gallop, which would keep him
alongside of a train of cars. There is a
chorus of yells from the redskins as
they made the first rush. Then the
silence of the prairie is broken only by
the thud! thud! of horses' feet. The
very silence is ominous, and siieaks of a
grim determination to run the victim
down.
Steady, now! The hunter's horse de
vours mile after mile of the green
prairie, now at the crest of a swell
now almost hidden in a dip for an in
stant out of sight of those who follow.
They gain a little. The hunter plans
that they shalL Every yard they gain
requires an extra speed that will take
ten minutes off the race after high
noon. At 10 o'clock they have gamed
half a mile. Then the pace is even,
and neither loses nor gains.
There is somethmg terribly grim in
following a man to his death. Not a
shout not a call not a rifle-shot.
Thud! thud! thud! over level and ridge
and always to the east. The sun mounts
higher and higher, and now and then
the hunter glances back with a faint
hope that the pursuit has been abandon
ed. No! He might as well expect a
wolf to quit the pursuit of a wounded
deer leaving its life-blood to stain the
grass at every rod.
It is high noon.
The pursuit began over sixty miles
away, but the breeze brings to the
hunter s ears that same monotony of
hoof -beats, and he glances back to see
that same dark line strung out at his
heels. It has become a question of en
durance. If he can tire them out he
will escape. He shuts his teeth anew,
reaches forward to caress his horse-
He is down! A burrow caught a
foot as the horse sped onwards and
man and animal roll to the ground.
The race is finished. The poor beast
whinnies an apology for his fall as he
flounders about with a broken leg, and
the exultant shouts of the redskins
hardly reach the hunter's ears before he
is down alongside the crippled horse
aud his rirle aimed at the approaching
foe.
It is another bright, peaceful day.
Here are Xh6 same pure air, the same
blue sky, the same panorama of grass
and flowers and dimly outlined moun
tains.
A band of hunters are crossing the
prairie at a steady gallop, instead of a
single man riding for his life. A vul
ture rises up with a hoarse scream
a second a third, and the odor of de
cay reaches the nostras of i iders and
hcrses. The band halts, rides to the
left, and presently all look down upon
a sight which tells its own story. The
swollen caacass of a horse, the scalped
and disfigured body of a hunter tramp
led body of a hunter trampled grass
spots of blood broken airows the
earth uptorn by hoofs.
One with stouter heart than the rest
dismounts and picks up a dozen flatten
ed bullets and a score of arrows. Then
he circles round the spot and gathers
np the empty shells thrown out by the
hunter's Wicchester. Bullets, arrows
and shells are deposited in a heap by the
corpse, and the man. points out one
threet five seven spots on the prairie
where the trampled grass and stains of
blood show the fall of horse ar man.
Then in a voice in which sorrow and
pride were mingled he whispers:
"Poor Tom! But he died game!"
Bohemia Chiefs.
"There," said Jack ltyder, formerly
Artemus Ward's agent, last evening, as
he produced bis scrap book and pointed
out a cut of an elderly man with a short
pipe in his mouth one of these pecu
liar, thick-set piis that are indigenous
to newspaper othces 'there was the
Mng of the Bohemians, Harry Clapp,
He died in New York, where he had
swung a sharp quill for many years.
He handled the most saucy aud fearless
pen of any of the old school of Bohe
mians that used to hang out at Pfaaff's,
on Broadway. Clapp made Pfaaff rich,
although he himself died poor. Harry
used to take his meals there, and one
day the coffee and victuals so impressed
the celebrated Bohemian's palate that
he wrote a column about Pfaaff's cara
vansary. True, it was a puff, but
Clapp could make the rankest kind of a
puff so witty and interesting that it
would be acceptable to any journal.
Clapp 's dissertation on Pfaaff and coffee
and articles that the other journalists
subsequently wrote on the same subject
made Pfaaff famous, and to be famous
as a New l ork tradesman is to be rich.
It strikes me that it ought only to be
necessary for a needy journalist to prove
that be was one or the fraternity to get
the best that Pfaaff's place affords. It
was a great gang that hung around
Pfaaffs in the days when Charlie Brown
was delivering his one hundred lectures
at JJudworth hall. One night long,
lanK, hoosiery Josh rollings, then a
poor auctioneer, called on Brown. Bill
ings had written but little then. He
wasnt one of the Bohemians. He was
too thrifty.
"A few days ago I met him in New
York for the second time. He has be
come a dignified, almost courtly gentle
man with considerable polish, and all
the evidences of prosperity. He has
grown rich, owns his own bouse in New
lork and drives his own carriages.
The gentleman of them all, however, is
Bret 1 1 arte. He is a man of medium
height and build, with full beard and
moustache and a general air of elegance.
If he takes a fancy to a person and gets
warmed up he is one of the most schol
arly and entertaining conversationalists
that 1 ever met. If Billings is rich
and, mind you, I dont undertake to
belittle him, for there is a great deal of
him intellectually Harte ought to be
rolling in wealth; but he is usually hard
up. Such are the freaks fortune plays
literary men. Strange that so many
humorists who amuse others have so
little themselves to enjoy of this world's
goods! Bailey, the Danbury News
man, called here once to see me with
reference to Artemus Ward, who was
his god as a humorist, and told me in
cidentally that he had a friend here
among the journalists who was a hu
morist and a man of genius and who
had done considerable work for him.
The individual was Leonard. I had
never heard of him, but I believe he was
on the Leader, The poor fellow died
in the hospital, I think, and Bailey
bought his articles, as long as he was
able to write them. I don't remember
auy other humorists besides Brown,
Griswold and this other man Leonard
then on the Cleveland papers. Yes,
Griswold was a humorist when he was
drunk. He was absolutely the funniest
man when he was in liquor that 1 ever
saw. Artemus Ward was not alwavs
an amusing man under the same cir
cumstances, although he would load up
with ideas that would work out in great
shape wheh he was sober. 4Gris' was
once advance agent for a show, and
while he was at .Nashville one night he
was seized with a desire to go on a
drunk. He didn't know a soul, but he
stepped up to the bar and began talking
to himself, as if he had met a friend.
Gns, take a drink,' said he to himself
in a changed tone of voice. Oh, no;
I've sworn off.
"The imaginary man urged 'Grls' to
drink until the latter yielded. The bar
tender, who evidently took 'Gris' for a
lunatic, set out one glass, but the imag
inary man gruffly ordered him to furnish
another glass. 'Gris' took a glass in
each hand, clinked them together, and
wiin me -itere siooKin- at ye' oi uns,7
and 'Drink hearty' of the imaginary
man, 4Gns' drained both glasses. Then
the imaginary man urged Gris' to sing
a song, and after demurring for some
time Gris complied with the request.
'Oris' kept up this circus for more than
an hour. It was a fashionable resort and
some of the bloods of the city heard of
it, gathered around and enjoyed the fun
a while. Then they rushed forward, took
'Gris' in hand well it was one of the
tallest times that a gang ever saw in
ashville. Charles Brown was careless
of money, but of course he aimed to get
all he could out of his business. That's
how he came to leave Cleveland. Gray
was paying him $1,000 a year. He de
manded an increase of pay. Gray was
unable to grant it, and when Vanity
Fair of X'ew York offered him $1,800 a
year he accepted the position. Vanity
rair died at the end of Is months.
Ward used to say that he killed it, and
then Artemus brought out his lecture.
I was formerly unable to appreciate
Nasby. His letters are not funny to
me, but he has a little thing in Lotos
Leaves entitled John Upanddownjohn,
which is really fine."
The Dead.
Most everybody is dead, says Bill
Arp, that is, all the old folks. There
are mighty few left of the old stock
that used to move around so lively and
take the lead in business and public
affairs. Some of us are getting lone
some now. The ranks keep filling up,
but we dont know the new recruits.
Old Father Time is a conscript officer
and he wont take any substitutes nor
give anybody a bomb-proof place.
There are no quartermastere nor com
missaries nor potash getters hi this
war, but it is fight, fight, fight all the
time. Fight ai they did at Thermopylae
where there were only 300 against
1,000,000, and there was no possible
escape, sooner or later all of us have
to go. We can't desert nor dodge nor
play sick nor shoot a finger off, and
there are no furloughs and no pensions
and no discharge. There is not even
a promotion for good conduct or noble
daring. There is nothing but to do and
die. Well, it's all right I know or it
wouldn't have been so. but it grieves
me to hear the bell toiling all about and
to see the old stock passing away.
Albany's brick-making industry
has reached a production of 1,000,000
bricks a week.
Wurtenberg, Germany, has over
SOW breweries.
Copald Funeral Bills.
In large cities the demands of fash
ion are, of course, most exacting in
mortuary matters, and at the same
time the extravagant respect paid to
the dead induces people to contract
obligations which they have no way of
meeting, that is, they will, i you
let them. I've been bit so often, how
ever, that whenever a man eets recant
less ot expense in ordering a funeral I
get suspicious at once and want to
know where the money s coming from.
Cash or security is my rule in such
cases."
"Then is everyone extravagant in
such cases? 1
"By no means. Some people will
haggle and jew at If thev were at a dry
goods counter. Ihe worst of em are
women. They get all mixed up as to
the price they paid for the last funeral
in the family. Only last night a wo
man told me that she only paid $11 for
the casket in which 'her Willie' was
buried fourteen years ago. She wanted
another for the present subject at the
same pnee, and hnally beat me down
to pretty near it."
"she was a 'regular customer,'
then?"
"Oh, yes. We have plenty of them.
This afternoon I will bury a woman in
whose family there have been ten funer
als in the hist five years Four of these
were on different davs of one week:
children, who died of scarlet fever, the
second of them while the funeral of the
first was returning from the crave.
I never got my money for auy of them,
either."
"There are fortuues, I supinxse. iu
the business?" said the reporter.
On the contrary." was the reply.
"there never was an undertaker in
Philadelphia who made money enough
out of it alone to retire. I only know
of one retired one, and though he made
his pile out of a turn up of land, it was
not in a graveyard. There is one quite
wealthy German undertaker up town.
He's made his clientage and his money,
however., in a semi-religious way.
Goes about and prays with the friends
of the dead and thus makes himself
popular. He always conducts the ser
vices himself. A good many under
takers do. At the Siaegiueyer f uneral
the woman who was murdered by her
husband last mouth, the undertaker
was also the priest. I never did it but
once and I'll never do it again."
"Why not?"
"Because the cemetery suiieriiiteiid-
ent got all his men around and tried
to make me laugh. They got me so I
could hardly keep my face straight, I
think the memory of that scene would
trouble me if I ever tried to read the
funeral service again."
Are undertakers favorably disiosed
towards epidemics?"
"No; they'd be fools if they were.
since they stand about the best chance
of anybody for contagion. Still, not
many succumb to it. I have handled
everything, I behove, but yellow fever
and never came down with any of the
various diseases. "
"The war was, I supiose,tlie greatest
harvest of the trade?"
"There was considerable money in it
and considerable danger, and 'takers
were frequently sent down to look for
bodies and often traversed battle-fields
in their searches. All the money in
the business then was in private fu
nerals. I don't see how the govern
ment undertakers made anything at
a funeral, which was the price."
"So undertakers embalm, eh?" said
the reporter, pointing to a diploma of
a Cincinnati school of the ghoulish
science.
"Yes, a good many do, and they do
it better than doctors."
"Why?"
"Because the doctors haven't a suffi
cient regard for the appearance of the
corpse. They are accustomed to work
on almshouse aud hospital patients and
aim at only preserving the body. They
therefore make the embalming fluid too
strong and it darkens the face too
much. A good many object, however,
especially among the lower classes, to
having the body touched with the
knife. I hey re not content unless I
come at them with a big box aud lo)
pounds of ice."
If there are no fortuned in the busi
ness where does the money go?"
"Most of it go to the livery stable
men. The carriages are the largest
item at any funeral, and we have to
pay for them whether we get our money
back or not. Otteu we don't get it
back and I believe that on his connec
tion with the livery business the under
taker Is out every year of his lite."
A Aral l a Sack.
An interesting incident, illustrating
the maternal affection of an animal for
its young, was brought to notice during
the visit of an excursion party to Ana
capa Island. A young seal pup only a
few months old was brought away from
the island by little Ernest Whitehead,
who desired to take it home for a pet.
The little animal was secured by a rope
around one of its fins and tied within a
small yawl Itelonging to the sloop.
Shortly before sailing a large seal was
noticed swimming around the sloop an
chored off the cave where the capture
was made, uttering loud barks and at
times howling plteously. No particulai
attention was paid to the animal at the
time or to the little captive, which at
times barked in resiwnse to the old
dam's plaints. The boat sailed away
making for the V entnra shore, w ten
off San Buenaventura a calm in the
wind decreased the speed of the boat,
when a large seal was noticed near by.
On reaching the wharf at Santa Bar
bara at two o'clock next morning a seal
was again discovered swimming about
the boat. It was not supposed that this
was the mother of the captive or out of
pity for its misery the pup would have
been thrown overboard. To better
secure the pup until daylight the rope
was taken from its fin and it was tied
up in a jute sack and left loose on the
deck. Soon after coming to anchor the
seal responded to its mother s invitation
by casting itself overboard all tied upas
it was within a sacK. it is asserted by
the man on deck that the seal mother
seized the sack and with her sharp teeth
tore open the prison of her offspring.
This, however, is a mere conjecture,
If it did the little pup was saved other
wise it would drown tied up in the
sack.
The incident was the more interest
Ing from the fact that the old seal had
to follow the sloop at least eighty miles
over the ocean in a hopeful endeavor to
rescue its young.
A "mysterious" disease Is reported
to be killing off a great many horses In
Utah.
Lieut. 9ebwatka a a M auk-ox Hunter.
The leader of the overland arctic ex
pedition of 1879 describes. "A Musk-Ox
Hunt" with the aid of numerous Illu
strations. He says after their first
chase after the game: "Great fears were
entertained by the experienced hun
ters that the musk-oxen bad heard our
approach, and were now probably
'doing their level best' to escape. The
sledges'were immediately stopped and
the dogs rapidly unhitched from them,
from one to three or four being given
to each of the eleven men and boys,
white or native, that were- present,
who, taking their harnesses iu their
left hands or tying them in slip-nooses
around their waists, started without
delay upon their trail, leavinir the
two sledges and a few of the poorer
dogs in charge of the Innuit women,
who had come along for that purpose.
and who would follow on trail with the
empty sledges as soon as firing was
heard. 1 he dogs, many of them old
musk-ox hunters, and with appetites
doubly sharpened by bard work and a
constantly diminishing ration, tugged
like mad at their seal-skin harness hues.
as they half buried their eager noses
in the tumbled snow of the trail, and
hurried their attached human beinc
along at a flying rate that threatened
a broken limb or neck at each of the
rough gorges and jutting precipices of
the broken, stony hill-land, where the
exciting chase was going on. The
rapidity with which an ague native
hunter can run when thus attached to
two or three excited dogs is astonish
ing. Whenever a steep valley was en
countered the Eskimos would slide
down on their feet, in a sitting posture,
uirowing me loose snow to tueir sides
like escaping steam from a hissing loco
motive, until tlie bottom was reached,
when, quick as thought; they would
throw themselves at full length uion
the snow, and the wild, excited brutes
would drag them up the other side,
where, regaining their feet, they would
run oi at a constantly accelerating
gait, their guns iu the meantime being
held in the right hand or tightly lashed
upon the bacK.
"We had hardly goue a mile in this
harum-scarum chase before it became
evident that the musk oxen were but a
short distance ahead on the keen run.
and the foremost hunters began loosen
ing tneir dogs to bring the oxeu to bay
as soon as possible; and then, for the
first time, these intelligent creatures
gave tongue in deep, lung baying, as
tney shot forward like arrows, and dis-
apieared over the crests of the hills
amidst a perfect bewilderment of flying
snow and nattering harness traces.
The discord of shouts and howling told
us plainly that some of the animals had
been brought to bay not far distant.
and we soon heard a rapid series ot
sharp reiorts from the breech-loaders
and magazine guns of the advanced
hunters. We white men arrived just
in time to see the final struggle. The
oxen presented a most formidable-look
ing appearance, with their rumps firmly
wedged together, a complete circle ot
swaying horns presented to the front,
witii great blood-shot eyebalLs Klanna
hke red-hot shot amidst the escapum
steam from their panting nostrils, and
pawing and plunguig at the circle of
furious dogs that encompassed them.
ihe rapid blazing ot magazine guns
right in theii ftices so close, often, as
to burn their long, shaggy hair added
to the striking scene. Woe to the
over-zealous dog tliat was unlucky
enough to get nis harness line under
the hoofs ot a charging and infuriated
musk-ox; for they will follow up a
leash along the ground with a rapidity
and certainty that would do credit to
a tight-rope performer, and either paw
the poor creature to death or Uing
him high in the air with their horns."
A (tootl Phjrsleian.
Away upon Chestnut street, Detroit,
in a comparatively olscure neighbor
hood and most modestly arranged,
blooms the home of John Andre, a man
who has during the past sixteen years
been au invalid,, and yet who now,
through his intercourse with the earth
and with ordinary flowers, finds him
self regaining in a great measure bis
old strength and improved conditions
of mind. Mr. Andre has lived at No.
144 Chestnut street for thirty-six years.
and was at one time keeper of the hay
scales for tlie Eastern District. He was
takeu ill in 1807 and gradually failed
during five or six years, until losin
confidence in Detroit physicians he re
solved to go to Euro(e. He remaine .
there two or three years, when, still
failing and almost hoeless of ever get
ting well, he returned to this country
witli the admonition ot the German
doctors to let medicine alone and devote
his entire mind and bodv to some ob
ject in nature. Obey ing the inj unction,
Mr. Andre began the practice and study
of floriculture, and with that change in
his thoughts and habits came the be
ginning of better health.
"May 1 step mside?" asked a repor
ter, as he instinctively halted in front
of Mr. Andre s flower plat yesterday.
"Certainly, come in. 1 like to have
you come in if you love my flower."
"Did you raise these flower your
self?"
"Every one from the slip. It is not
my trade, however."
Ihe house, which is a plain, two-
story frame dwelling, is literally em
bowered in foliage, while the porch at
the northeast corner is almost con
cealed by a profuse embellishment of
fuschias; not ordinary blossoms of that
character, but great, waxen beauties,
perfect m color and form, ana growing
on trees instead of vines. Next to the
pathway is a bed of geranium, the
plants having leaves fully five inches
broad, lhen there is an oleander tree
eight or ten feet high, with a profusion
of exquisite blossoms, while phlox,
rosea, poppies, carnations, ivy and nu
merous other plants abound.
"Do you think they would do to
show at the State Fair?" asked Mr.
Andre, and when the visitor remarked
that the idea was a good one Mr. Andre
again explained that be desired to liave
it understood twit be is not a gardener.
"I knew nothing about it, but as I
worked and watched them I observed
I felt better and came to love them."
"You ought to love them if they
brought you better health."
"If they were on Woodward avenue
or Jefferson avenue they would attract
attention, wouldn't they?"
"They attract attention where they
are."
"Yes, that is so, and I will ke-m them
her."
"Thy are an agreeable sort of physic
for an invalid."
"Yes; I'll take this kind of medicine
the year round."
NEWS IN BRIEF
ll,3t8 acres in London parks.
There are fifty-six shops for the
sale of horse-flesh as food in Paris.
A reaction of public sentiment in
favor of the English sparrow U observ
able, Caterpillars have ruinel ti fli
ageof the "graad old eltm" oi B nt:i
Common.
The oldest grave in the Frankfort-on-t
he-Main Jewish cemetery dates
back to 1272.
From $10,000 to $l ,00) it is said,
will cover the deficit left by the Sienger
fest in Buffalo.
The umbrella trade will feel cheered
at the intelligence th.it Yennor predicts
a dry August.
Tlie Nashville iron furnaca. h iva
all been m iking maey, mviy of tiiein
nanasome pro.ns.
The latest estimate of the corn
crop in Kansa? this ve.ir puts it at 1J,
UOO.OOirbiwhels. There is said to be OT.000.0JJ a-res
of land in California admirably alrpted
to grape growing.
Charlestown, Mass.. originated the
system of town government in New
England, in 134.
The crane vield alon? th II.iiI-i.-m
Valley will be uimreeedenteilv
judging fr im present indication
The stay-at-homes eniov tin re ;t-
ing spells of cool weather m iS. um
than the summer hotel keepers dj.
A soda-water fountain in a Brook
lyn candy store ex;iolj.l a few d.iy
ago ani broke the prjtKte:or's arm.
Mr. an 1 Mrs. Northcjte. n3a FLVi.
daughter of the ex-Sjjrotary o.'S.i:j,
are in England on tliair bnd U tour.
The pneumatic plan of clearin ' t!ia
Paris sewers is saii to havs bdau at
tended with excellaut rM lit to hi.ilt i.
In ISTij there were but 1.37 i the -
logical students inGormmv; no there
are 2,707 Protestants ani7.xl Catholics.
The French prewlsauim.iteily dis
cussing the vivisection question, arid
the anti-vivisection side a-i:u-s to bj
gaining ground.
Texas, on wants r.itijt over Sl .-
000,00J worth of cittldare ru.-i.iin.;.
nas uns year i,u w,o airet pu.uo t m
sugar.
Exclusive of lunatics iu asylum i
and vagrants, Liadju's rjtter of piu-
pers during the last week in June num
bered 8.3,55.
Evansville, Iii'L. is stj'.tinar rid of
a large number of E :i IwU sparo.vs by
viriue or a oouniy or a cent for ea-a
one killed.
At the a of 83. the mother f
General Phil. Siierid m is still livin iu
the house in which the General w.w
born, at Perry, O.
Three younc ui3n of Uta'i. con
verts from Morunaisin, are cm liliie-t
for the ministry under the c irj of t!io
Presbytery of L'tah.
The receipts of the Pate.it O.B :
for the current year will exceed 1.-
2W,000, according to the estiin ites of
Commissioner Marble.
The Duke of Newcastle recentl v re
turned to his tenants one-fifth of their
rent for the year, in order to relieve tlm
depression in agriculture.
Mr. SerireantBallantine. who visit
ed Utah, is credited with the opinion
tnat polygamy is an institution emi
nently suited to a new country.
Arrangements have been made to
bring out Wagner's List opera, "Parsi
fal," for the first time in England, next "
winrer, at tne noyai Albert nail.
A Swede, 40 or 4. years old, has
been sent to the Lazaretto, at San Fran
cisco, t'al., suffering with genuine le
prosy. He absorbed the taint in China.
The salaries of the clergymen of
the United States are about &,O JO,00
a year, and the Commission of Agri
culture says it costs $."X),i,00J to feed
them.
A man whose beard is already 27
inches long and steadily lengthening, is
living in Todd county, Ky., and has
not yet given up farming to go with
a side show.
Valentine Yeske, a Pole, tried to
commit suicide recently in the Colum
bus (U,) jail by partially swallowing a
large iron spoon, which broke wueu
being taken out.
M. Gustave Aimerd, the well
known writer of tales of adventure,
who died recently, was style! the
French Fen i more Cooper. He had
travelled the world over.
The Sultan has conferred on the
Emperor of Germany the Grand Cor
don of the Order of Chefeat. Kaiser
Wilhelm will probably have it put on
ice untd cool weather sets in.
Sir Lin thorn Simmons, soeakinsr of
the British army, says: "The nou-coin-
nnssioned officers have also deteriorated
in the last ten years, the record o cases
of reduction to the ranks and imprison
ment having nearly trebled."
In Rome a small Egyptian obelisk
has been discovered in an excavation
behind the Church of Santa Maria sopra
Minerva, near the site of the Temple of
Isis and Serapis. It lies at a depth of
iifteea feet, and is in good preservation
A sphinx in basalt was found, also,
with a cartouch on the breast.
A cave on the Colorado river, over
one mile in length, and in some places
thirty feet in width. Is attracting con
siderable attention at Lampasas, Texas.
This cave is about lt miles from tho
town, and has two small streams run
ning through it, which are about tw
feet deep.
The highest salary paid by the
French Government to any of its Di
plomatic officers is that of 2-il.OJO
francs to the Ambassador at St. Peters
burg. Envoys and ministers of the
second class, as at Washington, for ex
ample, receive 49,000 francs, or less
than $10,000 per annum.
An agitation for a farthing stamp
for printed matter under an ounce is
going on in England led by Mr.
Graves, who took au active part ia ob
taining the half-penny stamp in 180J.
The rate in Holland ia one-quarter
pence, in France one-fifth pence, and
in Ueigi urn one-tenth pence.
The sweeping of the Paris streets.
according to the latest official returns,
costs 54,000 francs. The number of
persons employed in the work is 3dlt$,
lncludingS20 sweepers, 2J10 "auxiliary
sweepers 30 centimes per hour. The
total cost of maintaining, cleansing
and repairing the roadways is 8,402,000
francs a year, and of the pavements and
crossings l,2o5,000 francs, or ,"87,30Q
francs altogether.
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