SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN.
W. M. CHENEY, Publisher.
VOL. VIII.
-AN IDLE FANCY.
I sat with my soul, idly weaving a rhyme
As the fancy came to me;
And I said: Sad soul, there cometh a time
"When the stars drop into the sea;
IVhen they lie like gems
Prom diadems
In the blue of the midnight sea.
The daisy is just as it was of old,
And the sunflower turns to the sea;
And there lies in the west a land of gold
When the summer's day is done;
But the bud that blew
In the morning dew
At night is withered and gone.
And what is life but a leaf that grows
(In the tip of an idle spray?
And beauty—what but a red, red rose
That blossoms for only a day?
And the red that tips
The sweetest lips
Soonest turns to leaden gray.
Ah, soul so sad, the riddle canst guess,
Why the rainbow after the rain
Our human eyes doth a moment bless,
Then waneth and fadeth again?
Why life doth seem
But an idle dream
That ends in a cry of pain?
Of the things that are, my soul replied,
God knoweth the how and when;
And the roses of June have only died
That roses may coma again;
And the day that dies
Leaves golden skies
As a promise of morrow to men.
—Harper's Weekly.
UNCLE JOB'S GUEST.
Aunt Huldah and Uncle Job were
writing the invitations to their own
golden wedding. It was an unusual
and arduous undertaking. They had
selected an elegant formula from a
Complete Letter Writer, which repre
sented to Aunt Huldah's mind the acme
of all social etiquette, and she now sat
dictating to Uncle Job, who was a fair
scribe but a poor speller.
Thus far all had gone well. Aunt
Huldah derived great satisfaction from
this close contact with "dictionary
words." The two old heads bobbed
eagerly over the long list of guests to be
invited, including almost the entire coun
tryside, until Uncle Job's yen traced the
name of Miss Abigail Appleby.
"You ain't goin' to ask her!" cried
Aunt Hulda, aghast. "Why, Job, man,
they do tell the queerest things of her!
I believe the woman is plumb crazy!
Livin' all alone as she does in that little
house of Dickinson's, comin' from 110 one
kuows where, and lillin' it from garret to
cellar with Cotton flannel animiles the
like of which was never seen in the ark
or out of it since! An' doin' her house
work in gloves, an' tvin' ribbons to hei
cow's hosns last Fourth of July! I won
der she wasn't hooked sky-high for it.
Ef you ask her to our weddiu', who
kuows but what she'll come a-fetchin up
with an elephant under one arm and a
camel under t'other?"
"I think she's a poor, lonesome old
critter," said Uncle Job, in a mild, de
termined voice. "She may be a leetle
teched, Huldy; I don't deny it, but she
lives within sight of our house, and I'm
not goin' to have every oue of our neigh
bors here, an' slight her.'
"Well, but she ain't fit to come to any
sech getherin". She don't seem p'inted
at inakiu' friends, either."
"Mebbe folks don't go the right way
to work," said the old man, dryly. "I
mean to take this invite over myself, and
urge her to come."
Aunt Huldah set her spectacles firmly
on her nose, and surveyed her obstinate
husband.
"Jest as you say then. But* if she
does bring us a heathen beast to set up
in our parlor, you'll do the thankin',
Job, for I won't!"
"I will, I will," promised Parmer Sat- !
terlce, sealing the note and his triumph
together with a twinkling little smile.
The wedding day was a crisp and gol
den one, such a day as October alone
kuows how to fashion. Aunt Huldah
had been up since dawn. The old house,
full of quaint furniture, had needed an
immense amount of scrubbing and pol
ishing to bring it up to its mistress's
ideal.
At last Aunt Huldah surveyed her
house interior with a sigh of satisfaction.
She was giving some asparagus broom a
little "tasty twist," as she called it, when
n scramble on the front porch announced
the first visitors. Millicent and Hetty,
her two daughters, released from
boarding school to celebrate this anni
versary, rushed into the room.
"We walked up from the statiou, you
know, giandmu. Such a charming day!
Leaves perfectly beautiful! Well, how
are you? Hetty, isn't she as handsome a
grandmother as two harum-scarum girls
were ever blessed with?"
They both hugged her in rapturous
school-girl fashion.
"By the way, graudma, can't we have
the best bedroom, with the big mirror?
Hetty and I want to come out in butter
fly style."
"I s'jioseso," said Aunt Huldah, leni
ently, looking with a suspicion of tears
at the tall, handsome girls. She was
wishing their father, her only son, had
lived to see this day. A few minutes la
ter she followed them up to the best
chamber.
"Laws a massy me! What upon airth
ain't you got crammed into that bag?
You call that packin', do you! Is that
all you're learnin' of ladylike ways?"
Hetty looked up with flushing checks
at this condemnation called down ou
Millie, who only laughed. "Pshaw,
grandma! You have to squeeze things
into a cabas. Look at this dress," and
she pulled out a flimsy garment of shim
mering satin covered with lace, and gay
with scarlet bows.
"Goin' to wear that?" cried Aunt Hul
dah, ill dismay.
Hetty smiled quietly, and brushed her
own pretty blue cloth. Millicent bit her
lip in mortification, but she arrayed her
self in the condemned garment and ran
down into the sitting-room, where Uncle
Job sat in all tho dignity of his old
broadcloth wedding coat, nibbling flag
loot and looking contented. The sight
of Millicent brought a deep frown to his
brows.
"Now, Millie, I ain't a-goin' to have
the plain, old-fashioned folks a-comin'
here to-night put out with the sight of
sech airs in my gran'darter! Take that
flummididdlc rig straight off, an' come
down here in a dress like your sister's, or
not a Step into my parlors do you go!"
Millie rushed back up stairs, fluug the
despised dress on a heap on a chair, and
cried heartily. She upset Hetty's violet
water trying to efface the tear stains, and
finally, arrayed in her travelling-dress,
tripped demurely into the parlor to join
her sister in conversation with the minis
ter, a youngjnan, with the stamp of col
lege fresh upon him. He was the earliest
guest.
Most of the guests arrived at the same
time, so that within half an hour the
parlors were filled. A stiffness hung
over this assemblage of old neighbors and
acquaintances,which turned into astonish
ment when Miss Appleby bobbed into
the room.
She was an odd figure, clad in a rusty
black dress, with a scarlet silk handker
chief across her shoulders and a large
bunch of salvia, very much askew, over
one ear. To complete this strange holi
day gear she had two enormous bottles
dangling clumsily from each side, and
bore under one arm, true to Aunt Huldah's
prophecy, a large cotton-flannel giraffe
decked out in ink-spots as large as ten
cent pieces, while a chicken-bone artfully
fastened on, graced its nondescript head.
Bowing to the company, she placed
her gift on the table, where it careened
backward on abnormally thick legs in a
tragic attidude, and then she looked
around the silent room for her hostess.
Aunt Iluldah was absent. Hearing no
welcoming word or invitation, the old
lady shrauk back timidly, and her hands
fluttered up and down her dress. Millie
had been hiding her smiles behind a fan,
but at the sight of the nervous, disturbed
glance she went impulsively to the
rescue.
"Dear Miss Appleby, grandma will bo
so glad you came! Take this chair. I
suppose you know Miss Appleby, ladies
and gentlemen."
There were friendly nods and mur
murs now in response to Miss Appleby's
queer curtsys, as pretty Millicent placed
her gently in a chair and chatted kindly
with her.
Aunt Huldah and Uncle Job were to
be addressed after the fashion of the old
service by the minister. "I want to stand
ax we did long ago," said Aunt Huldah,
"when we had no idea of life; and I
want to realize the solemness of it."
80 now they came into the room hand
in hand, both heads silver gray and both
hearts quietly happy- The second ser
vice had all the solemnity of a first cere
mony about it, and the minister's re
marks were very felicitous. As his voice
ceased and a rustling silence succeeded
it, suddenly Miss Appleby lifted her
head, snillcd audibly and dashed from
the room, pausing at the foot of the
staircase and then darting up it like a
squirrel.
I Every eye in the room followed her in
I amazement, and Aunt Huldah looked
i shocked aud vexed. Instantly, upstairs,
LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, JANUARY 31, 1890.
there was the noise of a downfall and
then a terrific crash. Millie and licr
grandfather ran upstairs, and the entire
company streamed after them.
In tho middle of the best bedroom
stood Miss Appleby, calmly untying the
necks of tho two great bottles from the
string that fastened them to her waist.
The main part of them lay on the floor,
shivered into fragments on the smoking
ruins of Millicent's lace dress and one
bed-curtain, hastily wrenched down.
"It takes me to smell smoke," she said,
nodding sagely at the horrified people
crowding into the door. "I mortally
fear fire an' alwaysigo to big assemblages
with my two hand-grenades somewhere
about me; that is, ever since I was burnt
out o' house and home three year ago.
It must 'a' been a candle left burnin', an'
it toppled over somehow. La, it's out
now! Don't look so white, Mis' Satter
lee. Half a bed-curtain.an' a grimcrack
dress ain't much to lose!' an' that's really
all that happened."
Millicent's sorrow over'her dress, half*
nonsense, half-earnest, made every one
laugh, and under cover of this laughter
Aunt Huldah thanked Miss, Aroleby with
heartfelt earnestness.
It. now was easy forithe sly, queer old
lady to get acquaintedUvith the company.
As Uncle Job took her to supper on his
arm, she was happier than she had been
for many a long day. Hearty invitations
to two quilting parties and a husking
frolic were accepted with a pleasure
which admitted no rcmembrai. -c of for
mer neglect. She danced in the Virginia
reel, and finally went home serenely
happy on Uncle Job's arm, with the mem
ory of kind words and the girls' warm
kisses to cheer her solitary hours.
When the last guest had departed Mil
licent and Hetty slipped into the parlor.
Their grandmother was surveying the
giralfc with dubious admiration on her
face.
"What do you think of it, grandma?"
asked Hetty.
"1 think," said grandma, seriously,
"that it's a turrible-lookin' beast an' no
mistake; but it's goin' to stay right here
in this parlor for a reminder—you girls
needn't ask jest what—of your grand
father's wisdom. My Job has a head an'
an' a heart to match each other, an' that's
an uucommon thing nowadays."
The giraffe was induced to stand up
right ou a little table in a corner,and now
when Miss Appleby, who is a welcome
visitor, runs over to Auut Huldah's to
spend the afternoon, she always takes a
sly peep into the parlor to gaze reverently
at that artistic creation of her fertile brain
which hits come to such high honor. She
secretly thinks that it is the most beauti
ful ornament in the house.— Youth's Com
panion.
Execution Methods in China.
The Soo-Chow correspondent of the
North China Herald , reporting recently
the execution of eleven pirates in that
city, refers to the manner in which exe
cutions in China are fixed. In other coun
tries the criminal knows beforehand the
day of his death, and has time to prepare
for his fate. But in China all is different.
At Pekin the Vermillion pencil marks the
death warrant, which is immediately
handed to a courier, who instantly mounts
a horse and rides off to his destination.
The post supplies fresh horses, and he
goes onward, sleeping and eating in his
saddle, never halting by day or night, in
sunshine or rain. After riding 700 miles
he reaches Soo-Chow and delivers the
warrant to the Governor. Three messen
gers are instantly dispatched, one to tho
district magistrate, who presides at the
execution and who repairs at once to the
place, a second to the camp for an escort
and the third to the jail. The victims
are bound, dragged before the image of
the lord of hades, which is in the prison,
and pay their respects. They are then
placed in cages, carried on coolies' backs,
and at a rough trot the cortege sets out
for the execution ground. The nerve and
blade of one executioner is never trusted
in Soo-Chow to take off more than three
or four heads. If there is a greater num
ber of criminals assistants are employed.
There are generally from fifty to one hun
dred executions per annum in Soo-Chow,
where all the criminals of Kiang-Soo,
with a population of 21,000,000, are ex
ecuted. They arc mostly pirates.
The number of horses in European
Russia is 21,000,000. The Russian
Government devotes annually SBO,OOO to
the purchase of stallions, aud so wide
spread has been the interest of late years
in improving this stock that races, trot
ting matches and shows have been
largely inci eased all over the country.
IIORSE ABATTOIRS, j
HIE USK OF HORSEFLESH FOR
FOOD IN PARIS.
Only Aged anil Worn-ont Antinals are
Slaughtered—How the Horses arc
Killed—The Flesh Ralhcr
Tough and Repulsive.
Frenchmen are too economic to throw
away anything, and when horses become
used up with wofk what remains of them
is killed and eaten. There were 15,000 |
liorses and 300 asses eaten in Paris last 1
year. There are four special abattoir ß j
for slaughtering them, and horseflesh is ,
fatcn in all forms. Strangers, however, |
will have some difficulty in obtaining a i
horse steak for the asking, although it is j
often palmed off on them under another ■
name. It is deftly concealed in beef ala j
mode, or is used in making soups and ;
stews. A visit to one of the horse abattoirs I
in Paris is not calculated to make one j
a confirmed hippophagist, or horseflesh '
eater. Tho writer visited one of the largest |
of these slaughter house early one morn- j
ing, and saw the sort of animals that arc I
thought fit for human food in Paris. This j
abattoir is in the south of Paris in the :
Boulevard del' Hospital, not many yards
from the famous Manufacture des Gobelin
There were forty horses waiting to be
slaughtered. They wore decrepit old in- 1
valids, lame, spavined, diseased and flesh
less old hacks, suffering all the infirmities
which afflict the equine race. When a
horse becomes useless for everything else
he is taken to these abattoirs and killed,
unless he dies on the way. Some of those
in the stables were so rickety that th y
coidd not stand up. There were several
asses among the stock. When alive the
ass is characterized by great endurance
and phenomenal toughness, and it pre
serves those qualities when dead.
The butchers did not spare the horses'
feeliugs, and that they still had feelings
was evident from the way the poor brutes
trembled when brought forth to await
their fate. Before a horse was killed his
shoes were knocked oil, his mane ami
tail clipped, and while these preliminaries
were being performed ho was allowed to
stand and see others being knocked down.
He appeared to understand what was
going on and what was awaiting him.
A blind was placed over the animal's
eyes, and a sharp pointod driven
iuto its skull a little above tho eyes. A
horse is easier killed than an ox. After
the skin was removed what remained was
to all appearance a mass of hones. But
they were carted away all the same bj
tho butchers and sold to the poor people
and the cheap restaurants. It was dur
ing the siege of Paris that the French
people became habituated to the use of
horseflesh. Before tho imprisoned Par
isians were reduced to eating dogs, cats
and rats, horseflesh was the staple article
of food for many weeks. Tho consump
tion of horseflesh, however, had been
authorized several years before the war.
The first horse abattoir was opened in
Paris in 1865, and a restaurant, where
nothing but dishes made from horse flesh
was served, was established iii the Latin
Quarter in 1866. The siege popularized
the food, and ever since then the quanti
ty consumed has increased every year.
French soldiers kill and cat their
wounded horses. When Napoleon's army
was retreating from Moscow amid the
snows of Russia the only food of the sol
diers was horseflesh. During tho Cri
mean war, when the commissariat of the
French and English troops was in a bad
way, the French solr' ■« lived sumptu
ously on horseflesh 'lie English
were almost dyi- Ovation. The
French also fe orseflesh in the
Franco-Germ ly
From a j point of view there
is no reason vrtiy norsctlesh should not be
eaten by man. Its wholesomeuess de
pends on the condition of the horse, and
horgps are not usually raised for the
shambles. Before the consumption of
horseflesh was authorized in France, a
number of scientific men held a series of
conferences and banquets to demonstrate
that the horse wan good for food.
Geoffrey Suint-llilaire declared that it
was absurd for the French people to lose
millions of pounds of good meat every
year, when thousands of poor people
were in want of food. M.de Quatre
fages tried to prove that horseflesh was
superior to beof. The fibre was much
finer he said. Thest- scientific gentle
men, in order to show that they were
not afraid of a piece of horse themselves,
held a hippophagist banquet, at which
the menu consisted ot horse soup, horse
sausage, boiled hocsc meat, roast aud
ragout, and salad dressed with horse fat.
Terms—sl.2s in Advance; $1.50 after Three ttonths.
A young horse which has not been
wcrn out with work may be good to eat,
but, except one now and then that is ac
cidentally wounded and rendered unfit
for work all the horses slaughtered in
Paris arc old hacks. Unless the smell of
the flesh is deftly concealed or changed
by the cook, horseflesh is somewhat re
pulsive, and soup made of it has au oily
appearance. But the natural repugnance
which people have for horseflesh arises
more from inherited ideas than anything
else. In Pagan times the horse was a
sacred animal, just as the cow is among
Hindoos to-day. Hares used to be con
sidered unfit for human food, and are so
still in some parts of Russia. Religion
prevents the Jews, Turks, and Arabs
from eating pork.
Horseflesh is eaten openly in Berlin
and Vienna, but not to the same extent
as in Paris. A Frenchman opened a
store for the sale of horse meat in London
a few years ago, but it wasn't a success.
Many thousand horses are killed for
cats' meat in London every year, and in
poor districts it is sold in place of beef.
There is no law against the consumption
of horseflesh, if sold as such, but every
now and then some butcher is prosecuted
for selling horseflesh as beef.— New York
Sun.
Axtell, the $105,000 Colt.
Since the great Dexter excitement of
more than twenty years ago, no event
has occurred in the horse-world which
has created so much interest as the
achievements and sale of the young
stallion Axtell. In fact, the latter event
so far surpassed the former that a com-
I parison of the two forcibly illustrates
the great advance of the American road
horse during the period of a little more
: than twenty years. When Dexter made
| his record of a mile in 2 :l?i, he was
I of mature age, and at the summit of his
I powers. Yet this speed was so far in
! advance of previous performances that
| tho gelding was sold soon after for
£33,000. In the more recent event
Axtell is only three years old, yet he
goes a mile in 2:12, and is sold for a
price nearly three and a quarter times
greater than was paid for Dexter. ~
The history of Axtell is as brief as sen-
I sational. He was foaled in 1886, bred,
I raised, trained, and driven by Charles 11.
Williams, a young man, of Independence,
lowa. His first victory was at Keokuk,
lowa, August 9, 1889, where ho won in
throe straight heats, in2:50-J, 2:41 J, and
2:31 J. As it was a race for three-year
! olds, he was protested, and the protest
j ustaiued. But this, though it deprived
i his owner of the immediate results of the
victory, made it the more remarkable.
! During the same year the colt was trotted
l at Chicago, Minneapolis, Des Moines,
Cedar Rapids, aud Lexington, Ky., re
j tiring with tho unexampled record, for a
two-year-old, of 2:23.
On the opening of the season of 1889,
Axtell was an object of eager interest and
great expectations which he has more
than fulfilled. He began by winning a
stallion race at Chicago in 2:19, 2:14,
and 2:20. This left him the cham
pion of three-year-olds. He wore
this honor but a few weeks, however,
when tho Califoruia filly Suuol trotted in
, 2:13). But her triumph was short-lived,
for at Indianapolis, October 11, Axtell
trotted a nule in 2:12, beating his own
time by two seconds, the three-year-old
record by one and three-quarter seconds,
j the stallion record by one and one-quar
ter seconds, and making him the most
I famous horse in the world. Soon after
the race Axtell was sold for $105,000 to
| Col. J. W. Conley, of Chicago, who rep
, resented a syndicate, which included
; Col. Conley, W. P. Ijams, of Terre
j Haute, A. E. Brush, and F. T. Moran,
! both of Detroit.
Axtcll represents a large proportion of
Mambrino blood, combined with that of
George Wilkes, Rysdyk's Hambletonian,
Seeley's American Star, and Clay, upon
a thoroughbred foundation.— American
Ayricultriti.
A Printer'* Bull.
Jack Roberts, one of the white
haired veterans who patrol Park Row
each day, was "subbing" on the World
where the style reads: "All time togo
in figures." Jack saw a chance for a
fight when, alter a trip to the hook, he
found it "panned out" a take of poetry,
which contained the line: "Meet me in
the lane, love, at half-past nine." He
set it up: "Meet ine in the lane, love,
at 9:30 p. M." Yes, there was u fight.
The foreman decided that the liue didn't
rhyme with its mate iu Ihe couplet, and,
also, that Jack didn't rhyme with hi 3
idea of employes.— The Journalist.
NO. 16.
FUN.
The pig who gets into clover thinks
the sward is mightier than the pen.
Fowls cannot bo classed as gourmands,
if they do eat by the peck.— PitUiburg
Chronicle.
A rooster doesn't vary his drinks.
Wherever he goes he takes a cocktail.
—Binghamton Republican.
"Single or otherwise?" asked the cen
sus taker." "Both." "Oh, come now,
madam, you can't be both." "Yes, I
can. I'm a twin."— New York Sun.
Ethel—"Would you mind sitting on
my hat,pa?" Father—"What under the
sun do you wish me to sit on your hat
for?" 4 'l want to see if I can't invent a
new style."— Time.
"Is that dog of yours dead?" asked
the tramp. "Yes." "Then I will take
some of that sausage. Revenge is sweet.
Last year he bit me. This year—ah!"
—Muntey't Weekly.
"Ha!" whinnied the horse, "we ought
to be able to get out even though the
stable-door is locked. We lnve a key
here." "What kind of one?" brayed au
ass in the next stall. "Why, a donkey?'
—Judge.
"Dear me! Dear me!" said Miss
Bostonbrcd, laying down the paper she
had been reading with a shocked expres
sion. "Hero is a long and harrowing
account of a party of cannibals who
killed and ate several American mission
aries! How very, very rude and uncul
tured those cannibals must be?"
A Baltimore anarchist says he has in
vented a sort of percussion cap, no larger
than a three cent piece, which, when
filled with the new explosive extralitc and
scattered on the sidewalk, will blow up
every man who treads on one. It has
never occurred to any anarchist to invent
a new kind of working tool or to manu
facture a new brand of soap.— Dctriot
Free Prea.
Mr. Slowboy (delighted)—" Under cer
tain circumstances, you say, Miss
Keemoit, you wouldn't object to marry
ing me. Thauk you so much. Now,
will you tell me what those circumstances
arc?" Miss Keemoit, (slowly)—" Well,
you see, Mr. Slowboy, If would be per
fectly willing to marry you if—if—if you
were the very last of your sex."—Phila
delphia Inquirer.
The Author of "Home, Sweet Home."
John Howard Payne, author of
"Home, Sweet Home," was born in
New York, June 6, 1792; died in Tunis,
April 10,185 a. He was very precocious,
and when only thirteen years old edited
the Thespian Mirror, and two years later
started a paper called the Pastime, of
which only twenty-live numbers were
published. On tho 26th of February,
1809, he made his first appearance on
the stage as Norval at the old Park
Theatre, New York. Afterward he
made a tour of the chief American cities.
In 1812 he went to London, where he
played for several years, and wrote and
adapted many plays. For the drama
called "Clari, or the Maid of "Milan, "'he
wrote the song of "Home, Sweet Home,"
upon which his fame chiefly rests. His
tragedy of "Brutus" was brought out at
Drury Lane in 1818. He also wrote
"Virginius" and"Charles 1.," which
were also produced in London. He be
came the friend and correspondent of
Lamb and Coleridge. In 1832 ho re
turned to the United States, and after ten
years of a life of vicissitutes, he was ap
pointed United States Consul at Tunis
by Presidtnt Tyler. He served until
1845, when he was recalled, but in 1851
President Fillmore reappointed him to
the same position, in which he died.— No
Name Magazine.
Cinchona Trees in America.
Adolph Sutro is trying the experiment
of raising cinchona trues at his grounds
above the Clifl House. It is from the
bark of about a dozen varieties of this
tree that quinine is extracted, and if they
will thrive in this climate the trees will
become very valuable.
Moreover, the ciuchona is a very showy
tree and highly ornamental, some of them
growing to a height of eighty feet. The
enormous medicinal consumption of the
bark of the cinchona has caused the tree
to be extensively cultivated in ludia and
Java. It grows in high altitudes in New
Grenada, Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia,
where there is a great deal of moisture.
It has heen tried with success in Austra
lia, near the seacosisl, and Mr. Sutro
thinks some of the varieties will grow
here, where there is a moisture in the at
mosphere all the year round— San Fran
cisco Examiner.