Sullivan republican. (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, April 19, 1895, Image 1
SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN. W. H. CHENEY. Publisher. VOL. XIII. growers. Negotiations are in progress to be gin the astronomical day, like the business day, at midnight instead of at noon. Tho Chicago Becord avers that mat rimonial statistics prove that the mas culine girl's wedding usually comes long after all her friends are married. Tho Sac and Fox Indians are said to be the purest-blooded red men in the country. They neither marry in or givo in marriage outsido their own tribe. The Texan Legislature has, by reso lution, invited cotton manufacturers in tho North to remove to Texas and get the trade of Mexico and South America; Edward Atkinson says that the time will some when the fiber in the ootton stalk will bo r.tilizod, and there are important elements for tanning and dyeing in tho root. The Live Stock Beport, of Chioago, says that every indication points to a decrease in meat supply, which is likely to bo general in all branches, and that the market is now in healthy shape and brighter for the producer than for several years. The New York Independent says: "We have quite overlooked, many of us, the extensive and valuable forests of the South. We are already getting lumber from ucross our Northern border. Would it cot be well to make largor use of our timber resources in the South?" Finland must bo a sportsman's para dise, opines the Atlanta Constitution. In ten years 90,000 domestic animals, including 24,000 reindeer were de stroyed by wild beasts, and in that time 1100 bears, 1200 wolves, 55,000 lynxes and foxes, 19,000 ermines, and 56,000 birds of prey, eagles, hawks, etc., were killed. Modern processes of preserving meat by freezing it were anticipated by nature in her process of preserving the mammoths or great woolly ele phants of tho far North. After the flesh of these animals has been frozen for severol thousand years it can still be eaten. A correspondent of M. Paul Boca reported to that scientist that mammoth flesh thus preserved tastes a good deal like leather. Tho story is told of old President Humphroy that he got a bequest all unknown to himself for Amherst Col lege, made by a woman, a stranger to him, to whom ho had given np his seat in a stago ooach. The story is nearly matched by tho bequest of $13,- 000 given to Dr. Talmage's wife by a woman to whom Mrs. Talmago had shown personal attention by visiting her when she was sick in a hospital. A very serious fall has taken place in the price of horses in Paris, also iu various French towns, says the Phila delphia Becord. This is Raid to be mainly due to tho extraordinary in crease in the number of bicyoles and tricycles, th» production being during last year excessive—namely, over 100,- 000 more than in the year prior. The complaint is bitter on the part of horsedealers, who say the bioyole is taking their bread away; but they must, like the rest of society, suffer for the benefit of the million. The New York Sun remarks: Form erly men lived in palaces and oon duotod their business in the plainest of bnildings. The many big white edifices recently erected in this city indicate a change in this reEpect. The semi-public corporation lead the way in a movement whioh must improve public taste. Some of these structures show a completeness in detail, a breadth in total effect which recall the profusion of the Italian Benaissence. Then the tendency was to seek the beautifal in the surround!ugs of pub lio worship, in places of trade aud in the furnishing of the homo. In Lambeth, says the London Tele graph, a milk vendor displayed a tin plate, setting forth that all the milk sold from"this establishment" was guaranteed pure as dolivcrod at tho dairy farm. Au inspeotor purchased a pint for analysis, and informed the milkman of its destination. "All right," said the vendor, "there's its certificate of birth," and he tapped the tin plate with a milk can compla cently. "Perhaps I may be able to send yon its certificate of baptism soon," answered the inspector, which he did in the form of a summons, which subsequently was transformed into a fine of $25 for adding fifteen per cent, pf water, Strike me a note of sweet degrees— Of sweet degress— Like those in Jewry hearts of old; My love. If thou wouldst wholly please, Hold in thy hand a harp ot gold, And touch the strings with fingers light, And yet with strength as David might— As David might. Linger not long in songs of lovo— In songs of love— No serenades nor wanton airs The deeper soul of music move; Only a solemn measure bears With rapture that shall never censo My spirit to the gates of peace— The gates of peace. So feel I when Francesca sings— Francesca sings— My thoughts mount upward; I am dead To every sense of vulgar things, And on celestial highways tread With prophets of the olden time— Those minstrel kings, the men sublime— The mon sublime. —T. W. Parsons. THE RKTtNIQJT F __~|HE stage rattled into the village one y v pleasant July day / \ and drew up at The Srr'iy.' G. A. B.man, the mm only passenger, climbed out of the lumbering vehicle, dragging after h m his nondescript traveling bag. He limped up the stops in the wake of the driver, who was helping the storekeeper with the mail pouch, and once on tho porch stopped and nodded a gruff greeting at the three men who were seated on the bench kicking their heels together— the Chronic Loafer, tho School Teacher and the Miller. The trio gazed at the new arrival solemnly; at his broad brimmed black slouch hat, which, though drawn down over his left tem ple, did not hide the end of a band of courtplaster; at his blue coat, two of its brass buttons missing ; at his trou sers, sevoral rents in which had been clumsily tewed together. "From your appearance one would judge that you had come home from a battle instead of a reunion at Gettys burg," the School Teacher remarkod. "He'd never come out of no battle lookin' like thet," the Chronic Loafer cried. "I've come home 'fore my 'scursion ticket expiied," said theG. A. B.man, removing his hat and disclosing the great patch of plaster that adorned his forehead. "Getteespurg was a sight hotter fer me yesterday 'an in '63. But I've got to the end of my story." "So thet same old yarn you've ben tellin' at every camp fire sence the war is finished at last. That's a blessin'." The veteran seated himself comfort ably upon his upturned satchel and began: "Fer the benyfit of tho Teacher, who I ain't never seen at our camp fires, I'll repeat my experience nt the pattle of Getteespurg, and then tell yer all 'bout my second fight there. I sorved as a corporal in the 295 th Pennsylvany Volunteers, an' was honorably dis charged in '64." "For whioh you draws a pension," the Chronic Loafer ventured. "Thet ain't so. I got the malary an' several other complaints that I got down on the Peninsula thet hinders me workin' steady. But thet ain't here nor there. Our retchment was alius known as the Bloody Pennsylvany Betchment, fer we'd been in the front in every fight in tho Wilterness and hed some very desperate engagements. Whenever there was any chartohin' to be done, we done et; ef there was a fylorn hope we was in et; if they was a breastwork to be took, we took it; an' by the end of two years eech fightin' we was pretty bad cut up. When we come ter the fight at Get teesporg et was decided as they wasn't many of us left we'd better be put to guardin' baggage wagons. Thet was a kinder work didn't need many men, but took fighters in caset the enemy give the boys in front a slip and sneaked in on our rear. "The trains, with several brigades, among which our retchment, was a couple of miles behind Cemetary Hill during the first day's fighting; but on the second day we was ordered back about twenty-live miles. Et was pretty hard ter have ter be drivin* off inter the country watching a lot of mules when the boys was hevin' et hot bang ing away at the enemy, bat there was orders, and a soldier alius hester obey orders. "The fightin' begin oarly on the seo ond day an* we could hear the roar of the guns an' see the smoke risin' in oloulds an' then settlin' down over the country. We got our wagons going an* I tell yer we felt pretty blue, fer the wounded and the stragglers begin ter come hobblin' back bringin' bad news. They would tell how the boys was being all cut up along the Em mettsburg road and how we'd better move fast, fer we was losin', an' then they'd hobble away agin. Then be sides the trouble with the mules and wagons and the wounded, we had to be continual watchin' for them Confed'rit cavalry we was expectin' ter pounoe down on us. Evenin'.come an' wo lay to an' prepared for tbe night. The fires was started and the coffee sot boilin', an' the fellers had a chancet to set down and rest for a while. "The wounded and the stragglers that jest filled the country were com in' in all the time, sometimes alone, sometimes in twos and threes, some with their armß tied up in all sorts of queer ways, their heads bandaged, or hobblin' on sticks, about the misera blest lookin' set of men I ever seen. The noise of the fight had stopped, an' . the whole country was quiet, as though j nothiii' had bu'u hapjieuin'. The quiet 1 aud the dark and tk>j four we watt go- j LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, APRIL 19. 1895. i.\' ter meet tho enemy nt any moment made et mighty unpleasant, anil what with the stories them wounded fellys give lis we didn't rest very easy. At 10 o'clock I went out on the picket line an' seemed 1 hadn't been there more than an hour whon I made out a dark figure of a man comin' through the fields very slow like. Mo an' the fellys with me watched sharp. Sudlen he stopped and sank down in a heap. Then he picked himself up and came staggerin' on. He couldn't i. ' ben more 'an fifty yards away whtj. threw up his hands and pitched for'a a OB his face. Me an' 'uother feller run out an' picked him up an' carried him inter the fire. But et wasn't no use; he was dead. "There was a bullet wound in his shoulder and his clothes was soaked with blood thet bed ben drippin', drippin' as he walked tell he fell the last time. 1 opened hi-j coat and in his pocket found a letter, stamped and di rected apparent to his wifo—thet was all to tell who he was. So I went back to the line tbinkiu' no more of et an' never noticin' thet thet man's coot 'nd 'a' fit two of him. ' Mornin' come, and the firin' begin over toward Getteespurg, an' we could see the smoke risin' agin an' hear the big guns roarin' tell the ground be neath our feet seemed to swing up an' down. I tell you uns thet was a grand sight. We was awful excited, fjr et seemed like the first two days bed gone ag'in us, an' more stragglers an' the wounded come limpin' back more an' more, all with bad news. "I was gittin' nervous, an' thinkin' an' thinkin' an' wishin' I was whore the fun was. Then I concided maybe I wasn't so bad off, fer I might a bo'n killed, like the poor felly I seen the night bofore. I remembered the lot ter an' got et out. I didn't 'tend ter open et, but final I thot et wouldn't be safe ter go mailin' letters without knowin' jest what was in 'em, so I read et. Et was wroto on a piece of wrap pin' paper with a pencil, an' in an awful bad hand-write. But when I got through it I sot plumb down an' cried like a ohil'. "Et wus from John Parker to his wifo Mary.livin' out in Western Penn sylvany. He begins be mentionin' how he was on the eve of a big fight, an' 'tended ter do his duty, even if et oome to fallin' at his post. Et was hard, he sayd, but he know'd she'd ruther hev no husban' 'an u coward. He was alius thinkin' of her 'an the baby he'd never seen, but felt sat'sfac tion in knowin' they was well fixed. "Et was sorrerful, ho continyerd, thet she was like ter be a widdy so young, an' he wasn't goin' ter bo mean about et. He allers know'd, he sayd, how she'd bed a hankcrin' after young Silas Quiucy 'fore she tuk him. If he fell he tlio't she'd bet ter merry Silas, when she'd recovered from the 'fects of his goin'. He ended up with a lot of last goodbys.and talk about duty to his country. "I set right down an' wroto thet poor woman a few lines, tellin' her how I found the letter in her dead husband's pocket. I was goin'ter quit there, bat decided et would be nice to add somethin' consolin' fer the poor thing, so I told how we found him on the field of battle, face to the enemy, an' how his last words was for her an' the baby. Thot day we won the fight, an' the very first chance I mailed Mrs. Parkor her husband's let ter. Et seemed 'bout the plum blamedeßt saddest thing I ever hod ter do vith." "I've alius be'n cur'ous 'bout thet widdy, too," the Chronic Loafer re marked. The School Teacher cleared his throat and began: Now night her course began, and over heaven Inducing darkness, grateful truce imposed, And silence on the odious diu of war; Under her cloud— "Don't begin no po'try jest yit, Teacher," said tho veteran. "Wait tell yon hear tho sekal of the story. I never heard no more of Widdy Parker tell last night, an then et come most sudden. Our retchment hed a reun ion this year on the field, you know, an' last Monday I went back to Get teespurg for the first time sence I was honorable discharged. "The boys was all there—what's left of 'em— an' we jest had a splendid time visitin' the monyments an' talk in, over the days back in '63. There was my old tentmates. Sam James on one leg, an' Jim Luchenbaoh, who was near tuck down before Petersburg be the yeller janders. There was the Colonel, growed old an' near blind, an' our Captain, an' a hundred odd others. "Last night we was a lot of us set tin' in the hotel tellin' stories. Et come my tarn an' I told about the dead soldier's letter. They was a big felly in a uniform leaning agin the bar watchin' us quiet like, an' whea I begin he pricked up his ears a little, an' as I got furder an' furder he be gin ter get more an' more Jinterested, I noticed. By an' by I seen him be comin' red an' oneasy, an' final, when I finished, he walks' crosst the room ter where we was an' stands there Btarin' at me, never sayin' nothin*. "A minute passed au' then I sais: 'Well, comrade, what's you unsstarin' so fer.' " "Sais he: 'Thet letter was fer Mary Parker.' " 'True,' saisT, surprised. "Then ho shakes his fist an'yells: 'You fool, I've tended 'most every re uuion here sence the war hopin' ter meet the man that sent thet letter au' wrote thet foolishness 'bout findin' my dead body. An' after twenty-five years I've fouu' you.' "He pulls off his coat an' the flleya all jumps up. I, half skeered ter death, yells: 'But you ain't the dead man!' 11 'Dead 1' ho yalls, 'never be'n near et. Nor did 1 ever 'tend ter hev every blamo fool iu tho army mail in' my letters, nuther. Ni-ver be'n dead. Because you finds a man with my coat on, thet ain't no reonou lie'# me. I was gittin' to 'jho rotor wiiii or.lers ad lively as a cricket and throwedoff thet coat because et was warm runnin'.' "Whon I seen what I'd done I jumps for'a'd, grabbed his arm I was so ex cited, an'yells: 'An did she marry Silas Quinoy?' " 'Et wasn't your fault Bhe didn't,* he said deliberate like, rollin* up his sleeves. 'Fer I got home two days after thet letter an' stopped the wed din' party on their way to church.' " "Sights I" cried tho Chronio Loaf er.—New York Sun. Atmospheric Fuel. The possibility of carrying about with him the means of counteracting a tendency to become chilled, and a stock of available fuol with which to keep warm, does not seem to be recog nized by the average individual. But that ore may by proper breathing keep up a comfortable temperature or throw off chilluess in almost any de gree is a fact well established by abun dant experiments. Almost every per son may be exposed to the cold at times when there is no opportunity to pre paro for it, and when there is no chance to secure extra clothing. In such cases it is only necessary to keep np deep and rapid breathing. Fill the lungs as full as possible at every in spiration. If tho air is very cold, it is well to hold a handkerchief lightly before the nostrils, in order that tho sudden ingress of a large quantity of cold air may not injuro the lungs. Tho air should bo drawn in with some force, and exhale at onoe in the same way. Do not retain tho air, but get rid of it as soon as possible. Two seconds is long enough for filling and emptying tho lungs. Breathe fast, almost like panting after violent exer cise, but with the utmost caution, stopping the instant any distress or uneasiness is felt. Wait a moment, then begin again, a little more slowly. Bo steadfast in the effort to fill the lungs as full as possible without strain ing. Within a few moments tho blood will begin to grow warm, the extremi ties will feel the glow, and soon the entire surface will be at a comfortable temperature. If one wakens in the night with a "creepy," cold feeling, this is an excellent thing to do, and will restore the circulation, and often produce a desire to sleep. There is another advantage in deop breathing that is far too little appre ciated. One of the most eminent medical authorities declares that one can by full, rapid and free breathing eliminate almost all disease germs and tendencies from the system. Bapid breathing furnishes fuel by means of which all waste matter of the system is consumed. The blood is purified, the tissues are supplied with necessary material, and tho entire body rapidly roturns to healthy Jon ditions.—Now York Ledger. Will Sustain J>4s ,<«<>,. 100 Persons. Have you any idea of tho number of persons that tho United States would sustain without overcrowding the population or even going beyond the limit of density now shown by the State of Rhode Island? Tho last cen sus of the pygmy State just gives it a population of 80,000. The area of the State in square miles is only 1250. Thus wo find that there is an average of 318 per sons on every square milo of her ter ritory. We can best illustrate tho sustaining capacity of the whole of tho United States and of tho other States by making some comparisons. The State of Texas has an .area of 265,780 square miles, and were it equally as densely populated as "Lit tle Bhody" would comfortably sus tain a population of 83,523,628 in habitants—a greater number of per sons than the wholo country is ex pected to have in the year 1900. Scatter people all over the wholo land from tho Atlantic to the Pacific and from the Gulf to the British posses sions as thickly as they are now in Rhode Island, and we would have 945,666,300 inhabitants, instead of an insignificant 62,000,000. In other wards, if the United States could be peopled to their utmost sustaining ca pacity, we could take care of nearly two-thirds of tho tho present popula tion of tho glebe. —St. Louis Repub lic. He Knew the Boy. This story is told of Budyard Kip ling, as illustrating very clearly the characteristics of tho vigorous English boy who was afterwards to achieve such widespread fame with his pen. When a boy of twelve, he went on a voyage with his father, who, becoming desperately sea-sick, retired to his berth, leaving young Budyard to his own devices. Presently the poor father heard a tremendous commotion over his head, and down the compan ionway dashed the boatswain throe steps at a time, shouting excitedly, "Mr. Kipling, your boy has crawled out on the yard-arm; if he ever lets go he'll drown, sure." "Yes," said Mr. Kipling, falling back on his pil low, with a sigh of relief, "but he won't let go."—Household Words. Water Running Up llill. "One of the fo w instances of a stream running up hill can be found in White County, Georgia," said T. R. Faulk ner, at the St. Nicholas. "Near the top of a mountain is a spring, evident ly a siphon, aud the water rushes from it with sufficient force to carry it up the side of a very steep hill for nearly half a mile. Beaching the crest the water flows onto the east, and eventually finds it way into the Atlan tic Oceau. Of course, it is of the same nature as a geyser, but the spectacle of a stream of water Howiug up a steep incline can probably bo found no where elso in the country, and appears even more remarkable than the gey sers of the Yellowstone." —Cincinnati Tribune. THEORY AND CONDITION. WORKING GIRLS SUFFER FROM WILSON'S WICKED WORK. Defenseless Wage Earners In Woolen Mills Unable to Earn Sufllclent to Pay Tbelr Board Under the Free Trade Tariff, Which Reduced Their Earning. I —PROFESSOR WILSON'S THEORY. I have on my table, as I write, two samples of woolen-pile stuffs, such as make good and serviceable cloaks or sacks for working girls abroad, and which many here would bo glad to get. Under the law of 1883 they wera dutiable at 35 cents a pound, and 35 per oent. nd valorem ; making for ono sample a duty of 207 per cent, of which 172 per cent, was covered by the mild looking specific duty of "35 cents a poundand for tho other, 171 per cont., of which 136 por cent, was carried in this specific duty. Tho McKinley act raised the duty on theso fabrics to 49J oents a pound and 60 per oent. ad valorem. This would make for the first sample a duty of 203 per cent., of which 243 per cent, is imposed by the specific duty, aud for the fecon.l sample a duty of 253 percent., of whioh 193 per cent, is likewise imposed. And this ic tho name of American labor t The poor girl, earning tho meager wages of fifty cents a day, having by two days' work made euough money to buy a dollar's worth of this mate rial, would then have to work six days longer to earn sufficient to pay tho McKinley taxes upon it. Those taxes increase the cost of the ono from 31 79-100 cents to 81.28, and of the other from 44 88-100 cents to $1.58. Un der the bill now proposed, the cost of these goods would be raised to 44 and 64 cents respectively, and these duties are to bo lowered one-eighth with the lapse of five years. Of course the present rates are pro hibitory, and such articles never ap pear in the table of imports, but these examples serve to show both tho work ing of specific duties on cheap and com mon goods, and the merciless taxes imposed on the poorest and most de fenseless of oar wage-earners.—Wm. L. Wilson, in the Forum. n. —THE WORKING GIRI/S CONDITION. Between six and seven hundred girls and a number of men employed in the S. K. Wilson Woolen Mills at Trenton, N. J., went on strikoyesterday. Theso mills have been the only important works that have been running in Tren ton for some time. In. >rder to keep tho hands employed a twenty per cent, reduction was made in their wages last summer. A refusal on the part of the owners to restore the cut precipi tated the strike. A committee of the girls called up on ?Mr. Wilson Wednesday night and told him thnt they had not been able to earn more than $3 in two weeks since the new scale went into opera tion. Many of them live in boarding houses, the leader said, and were un able to earn enough to pay their board. They claim that since the Wilson Tariff law went into effect the goods turned out have necessarily been of an inferior character, in order to compete with tho foreign goods, and consequently the piece price is lower. The girls have the sympathy of the men employed in other departments, and are arranging for public meetings in order to present their case to the trades people of tho town.—New York Morning Advertiser, March 8, 1895. This is a condition that confronts both Professor Wilson and the work ing girls. "The poor girl, earning the meagre wages" of in two weeks" under Mr. Wilson's froa trade tariff, has been "unable to earn enough to pay her board," although working for six days iu the week. If, howover, she worked on .Sunday as well, and worked every Sunday for half a year, she might be able to sparo money enough to buy a woolen-pile stuffs cloak, provided she in ile no pnrobases for any other article of wearing apparel. Tliis, .Mr. Wilson, is the conditiou of your "poor girl" under oae of your ".njrctlest taxes imposed on the poorest au I in )st do feusoloss of our wage earners." A Double Barreled Uim. A great many of our Southern friends voted for free trade as a means of developing their iron industry among others. They were told by Mr. Edward Atkinson, who has been • life-long eneiny of Amerioau iron producers, that free trade was what they wanted for the development of their industry, and it was hinted that free trade would also injure the North ern iron maker—i. e., free trade was a kind of gun that would hit the Northern deer and miss the Southern naif! It undoubtedly hit the North ern deer. But how does the Southern calf come out! fn 1892 the Southern States made 1,890,1157 grons tons of iron and iu IH'.H the k*ium States made tons. I u 18 12 those States turned out 20. li yor cent. of.the total Terms—Sl.oo in Advance; Sl.2ft after Three Months. nia'ce of tho oouutry Bud lust year tbey ui ulo nineteen per cent. When tho free tra le President goes out of olfije they will ba fortunate if they are making seventeen per cetH. It is probable that their solid support of the British candidate aul the British theory of trade development will cost then the labor an I profits that would have pertained to the making of at least four million tons of iron. The Dairy FaiMter's Experience. Now that the markets of the world are waiting anxiously to purchase our supplies of farm products, it is well to let the farmers know what enormous quantities of our butter an I cheese they are purchasing under the Qcr ir.an tariff. The great increase in this branch of oitr foreiga trade can be seen from the following figures, show ing our exports for the seven mouths ending Jauuary 31, 1895, as ooinparei with tho seven months ending January 31, 1891, as follows: BUT TEH AND CHEESE EXPORTS. Seven months onding January 31. Butter, Cheeso, pounds. pounds. 1831 5,067,784 43,750,34! ISD3 .2,803.820 30.236.356 Decrease 2,203,957 4,513,089 Here is another instance where we find that, with the markets of the world wide open to us, our export trade of American products has fallen off, the shipments of butter during the seven months showing a decrease of 2,201,000 pounds and the shipments of American cheese showing a falling off 4,514,000 pounds. The buyers of dairy products in foreign countries must have forgotteu that our wall of protection has been broken down, be cause we are hardly letting ourselves out to such advantage as the free traders promised the farmers when so liciting their votes before election. There is no theory about our dairy export trade. It is a condition that confronts American far.n?rs—a con dition of smaller exports under a free trade tariff. 1892 John Bull Comes, 1895-John Dull (Joes. "The Tariff is a Tax." Under tho MoKinley tariff our im ports for January, 1891, on the aver age tariff of 50 per cent, ad valorem, would have given us a revenue of $2, • 414,000 for tho month. Under the new law our imports for January, this year, at tho average of 40 per cent, ad valorem, would give us a customs rev enue #3,950,000. Thus, upon the sup position made by all free traders that "the tariff is a tax," we find that the Gorman tar iff taxed them for the month of January $1)542,000 more than they were taxed under the McKinley tariff, while it doubled our imports of Eng lish goods, decreased the products of our factories aud farms to the extent of $5,000,000 for a single month, and enabled us, in the same month, to sell $2,500,000 worth less of our own goods in one of thoss markets cf the world that are supposed to be waiting ready to receive everything that we caa grow or manufacture. We thus have, during the first month of the present year, under the new tariff a direct money loss of $7,500,000, with a direct increase iu the burden of taxation of $1,500,000, on the the ory of the free traders that "the tariff is a tax," without reckoning the in creased taxation necessary through the increase in oar bonded indebted* ness. An Attack on Farmer.). The difficulties of managing tli3 American wool busiuess have been multiplied. \Vo have to share the American market with many foreigu wool sellers who have never before been competitors with our home mar ket and the American wool growers are competing on suoh unequal terms that the industry is shrinkiu'. The domestic wool men were hit hard by the Gorinau bill. l Let Us Hope S<». John Burns believes ttia'. within the next twenty-live years A uarioius will lie einigratiufto inl, tiuiao iu that time Euglaud will li*v>.»tii3 model Government of th> world. Sooner th.tu that, John. Mr. CleveUud and liiu chum, Wilson, will go over to pave the way iu 'J'i,—Jersey City Evening Journal. NO. 28. A WINDY DAY. Tho dawn was a dawn of splendor, And the blue of the morning skies Was as placid and deep and tender As tho blue of a baby's eyes; The sunshine floods the mountain, And flashed over land and sea Like the spray of a guttering fountain— But the wind, the wind. Ah, mo 1 Like a weird invisible spirit, It swooped in its airy flight; And the earth, as the stress drew near it, Quailed os in mute affright; The grass in the green fields quivered— The waves of tho smitten brook Chilly shuddered and shivered, And the reeds bowed down and shooi. Like a sorrowful misorere, It sobbed audit wailed and it blew Till tho leaves on the trees looked weary, And my prayers were weary, too; And then like the sunshine glimmer That failed in the awful strain, All tho hope of my eyes grew dimmer. In the spatter of spiteful rain. —St. Louis Globe-Democrat HUMOIt OF THE DAT. When you give others advice take some of it yourself.—Ram's Horu. A man's experience teaches him to fear nothing on earth but his friends. —Atchison Globe. There are a few fossils iu this coun try that as yet are in no collection.— West Union Gazette. The reason more short men do not buy tall hats is because they are short. —Rockland Tribune. A courtship by mail is about as sat isfactory as a perusal of the bill-of faro in place of dinner. Adversity is like tho frosting on n sumptuous cake, and its rewards aro like the plums below.—Puck. It is estimated that a woman has the last word and eighty-two per cent, of the preceding conversation. —Puck. There aro many rules for merchants, But those two will suffice: Be diligent in business, And don't fail to advertise. —Detroit Free Press. "Move on," said the officer ; "you'ro full." "Thash right," said tho dizzy one; "who told you?"— Adams Free man. It is easier to throw stones at a pro oession than it is to twirl the drum major's baton. Cleveland Plain Dealer. There are two important periods in a woman's life. One is wheu ehs has a hired girl and tho other is wheu she hasn't. —Rockland Tribune. The man who sighs for the happy day When a barefoot boy ho ran Is the same old boy who used to say "I wisht I wuz a man." —Philadelphia Record. Tho world is like a fruit basket. Tne big and attractive ones get on top, while the little ones are crushed out of sight in tho bottom.—Texas Siftings. Mrs. Murphy—"Yes, sonny, I'vo had a fruit stand on this block for thirty years." Tim Ryan—"lf you'd have advertised you might have owned the block by this time."—Boston Globe. You think your old hat looks pretty well until you come out iu a new one. Then you notice by the enthusiasm of your friends that they'd been hoping for this for some time. Rockland Tribune. "It's all nonsonse, dear, about wed ding cake. I put an enormous piece under my pillow and dreamed of no body." "Well?" "And the next night I ate it and dreamed of every body."—Life. Old Player—"When next yon try you want to forgot everything but that you are on the stage." Amateur Slippupp—"That was just the trouble ; I did forget everything but that."— Boston Courier. Wiggles—"Why did they call it a charity concert, do you think?" Wag gles— "I don't kuow. Possibly be cause it is so often necessary to bo charitable toward the performers."— Somorville Journal. "There is some satisfaction of being a kodak fiend," mused the amateur photographer, as he sent a bundle of pictures to a friend. "At least, a man can express his own views."—• Philadelphia Record. As the cow on the barbed wiro scraped hen self She gave a tremendous bound, And remarked: "I think tho wires should all Bo put right under the ground!" —Puck. Caller—"l am going to send my little girl to cooking school at once." "Does she care for such things?" Caller -"Dear me, no; but I am sure she will make a good cook, sho breaks so many lovely dishes."—Chicago In ter-Ocean. Wife—"The language you used last night when you oame home was some thing dreadful." Husband- "But—" Wife—"Don't try to deny it. I am as positive as I am that I sit here that when I said* Who's there?'you said 'Me.' " —Chicago Tribune. "Do you intend to pay an incomo tax?" "No; I've had my salary re duoed to $3400." "Then, of course, you'll expect a Christmas present of about §SOO or SOOO from your em ployers." "Yes, that is about the size of it."—Boston Budget. Let's fad no more on Bonaparte, As we have lately done: And. setting him aside, lets mako A fad ot Washington. He might objeet if he were here; But really its too bail Togo to foreign parts when wo Can have a home-made fad. —Detroit Free Tress. If all the people who shut thu door in the summer oould be sent to the equator, and nailed to it, aud nil tiu people who leave the door open in the winter carried to the North I'ole, and tied to ii, what a comiorta >! j world this would be to the rost ol us. —Rockland T» tbune.