Decatur Democrat, Volume 38, Number 26, Decatur, Adams County, 14 September 1894 — Page 5

©he gJemorrat 1 wwwwwwww- I DKOATUB, IND. < < — J What Is the proposed modus oper* andl of the Chicago women who hare organized to suppress the cigarette? The slipper? —: — Thb Kaiser was treated In London to the military spectacle of 12,000 British troops passing In review under command of the Duke of Connaught England shows her little army to royal visitors as a matter of compliment hut the navy Is the business end of her establishment a Gbobgia man received an electric shook In a thunderstorm, and he asserts, according to the Atlanta Constitution, "that a brassy taste was quite noticeable In his mouth after the shock, and his friends hava noticed in his discussions of the silver question since that time that his voice has a metallic dick in lu” Up in North Dakota a woman candidate for State Superintendent of Schools has introduced a new element into politics. By promising to

marry her chief rival she not only removed him from the opposition, but got him to take the stump for her. There are men who pretend to think that as a politician woman would be a failure. Although the two young children of James R. Roosevelt of New York, aged 13 and 16, respectively, have an inherited income of 180,000 a year, Judge Barrett has refused to allow their father the 130,000 a year that he wanted for their maintenance and education. The Judge says that 115,000 is quite enough. There are certainly quite a number of children who get on fairly well with even less than that Thk best achievements are not made by those who have neither eyes arose wndf-wanatpiiur beyond their souls into It for the allotted timej ean throw themselves heartily for a while Into some other interest They

return not only freshened and in- ' vigorated, bus occupying a higher stand-point and commanding larger views of their own chosen employ* mentthan before. There is very good reason for not suspending newspaper advertising in summer. As we know and see it ourselves it is perfectly obvious) that less advertising is done at this time of the year, the space that is used can be occupied to greater advantage. All newspaper publicity is a strugle of advertisement against advertisement, each endeavoring to >( capture the page”—each advertiser trying so to All bis space as to secure attention tor himself and divert it from his rival* We are all rivals when we enter the newspaper, and the rivalry is far less keen in summer than in the winter. ■ There are many men and women who are-a. law unto themselves, who follow right paths and forsake crooked ones, not from any compulsion of the law or fear of social displeasure, but from the dictates of their own consciences and the general purity of their own desires. Their relf-respect is dearer to them than any praise that could be showered upon them; their self-disapproval is harder to bear than society's frown or the law's penalty. Without disregarding or despising either the one or the other, they have a higher standard than either, and they cannot be content when they fall short of that How came the symbol • to be used as the dollar*mark? The question is puzzling the people who like to get at the derivation of everything. The most plausible reason is that the mark is a combination of “U. a," the initials of the United States, while others think it is a modification of the figure 8, the dollar being formerly called a piece of eight* But intricate as the question is, ltdoesn't begin to compare with the trouble people take to get bold of the dollar itself and pinch it and gets 100 cents' worth out of it, whether of food, clothing or fun. "The dollarmark may be delusive, but the dollar itself is elusive,'* said Marshall P. Wilder. The man whobas sufficient discernment to recognize a good thing when he has it, ii-ftt least worthy of all the success it brings him. It was this faculty which enabled a San Francisco police court attorney to congratulate himself upon having but one Slack eye, instead of two* A couple of practitioners at the Old City Hall quarreled over aBS fee, which one was not disposed to divide fairly with the other, and one knocked the other down. The man on the ground stayed there, while the other stood over him threateningly. “Get

up here, you dirty coward!” he roared, as he tugged at his fallen adversary’s coat collar. “Uh, uh I” said the man who was on the ground, in a decisive tone, "if 1 do, you'll knock medown again.” And be saved the other eye. Thb country Is paying In the stage matters for Its prolonged debauch on farce-comedy, extravaganza, comic opera and the lighter forms of theatrical entertainment As it is, we must look across the water for either great artists or great and serious productlona Mr. Dalo, whose forte, however, is comedy, though of a high order, can only exist by going abroad for half the year. As > for Americans to play great plays, ihe stage is bare of them. There Is no successor to Booth. There has been no successor to McCullough—none even to Barrett Indeed, the oldtime "tragic star” of the Forest order—a great actor with a poorlyequipped company—is Impossible. * Hence there Is no American breeding ground for great actors, it woulc need a great manager first who might or might not be an actor, like Mr. Henry Irving. Until such a one > arises, we must go on as we are, in- ’ venting fol-de-rol and importing every stage work of importance.

It has been eustomary to regard fresh bred and hot rolls as Indigestible. But Dr. Troitzkl, a well-known Russian bacteriologist claims for them a very important hygienic advantage, New and uncut bread does not contain any micro-organisms, as the heat necessary to bake the bread is sufficient to kill them all. As soon, however, as the bread Is out and allowed to He about uncovered It begins to generate microbe£_not only of a harmless type, but also of a pathogenic character. White and wheat-meal bread is a better nuriani medium for these organisms than rye bread, on account of the greater acidity of the latter. From a series of experiments with pathogenic bacteria, Dr. Troitzki has found than the bacillus of anthrax, without spores, remains alive on the crumb the crust three days; the typhoid bacillus remains active twenty-five to thirty days on the crumb and twenty-six to twenty-eight days on the crust, while the bacillus of cholera lives twentythree to twenty-five days on both.

How many men waste time in frivolous amusements, in empty pleasure. Franklin said: “Dost thou love life?” Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of. If rich men would make their sons work for a living In some respectable calling, instead of furnishing them with money to gratify their inordinary desires, their vanity and pride, they would have better and wiser sona If people would employ their leisure in doing what is best for themselves and others, we would not have so many drones upon society, so many useless and unworthy citizens. "Prick the sides of your intent," and goad and stimulate and urge yourself to do what you can do in this swiftly passing life of ours. Hugh Miller, it is said, found time while pursuing his trade as a stonemason, not only to read, but to write, cultivating his style till he became one of the most facile and most brilliant authors of the day. Ellhu Burrett acquired a mastery of eighteen languages and twentytwo dialects by improving the bits and fragments of time which he could steal from his occupation as a blacksmith. The Last of a Mighty Army. Sixty years from to-day, it may be, In some great cemetery of the Nation's dead, or haply within some quiet churchyard, will be reared a mound of flowers over the grave of the last survivor of the Civil War. For, though he- be a stranger among strangers, a waif upon the shore left by the receding tide, with not a comrade to bear him company, he will not be unbefriended. There will be sons of veterans, grandsons of veterans, daughters and grand-daughters of veterans to guard his footsteps to smooth his dying moments, sublimer far than those of Napoleon at St Heleno, to write his wondrous epitaph and over his ashes build a fitting monument. —Washington Post Living By Hanging. A Continental beggar has been living very comfortably by hanging himself. He would choose a tree near where young children were playing, string himself up and groan to attract their attention, so that they would run for help* He would be cut down and restored, and a letter in his pocket would explain his attempted suicide by a statement of his destitution. But he knew how to attach the noose so as to avoid strangulation. A new street sweeper, which is a diminutive copy of the big house sweeper, and which is worked like a push cart, is being experimented with In New York city. Os late years most of the orators are boys. Men have too much business to attend become orators,

PRINCS AND PAUPBB. The Prince passed by. A careless boy, As ha watched him ride away, Thought, “Oh, for a teste of the boundless Joy \ Where the Prince must feast each day.” And a great hope burned In hie youthful heart 1 Po sometime play a Prince’s part. The Prince passed by; his heart was sad With a thousand cares oppressed: •To be once more like that happy lad And freed from this deep unrest: I’d give all the sorry hopes of men: Alaa! that youth comes not again.” —[Nixon Waterman In Chicago Journal.

H HHPPY mBN. The doctor did not have an easy time of it in the East End parish, where he had bought a cheap practice and settled down with his youth, lie aspirations, his skill, to fight the jattleof life. His youth seemed to slip from him in his first year of work, his aspirations changed their nature, his ajtill developed. He acquired vast Experience In those poor homes, where he fought valiantly against disease, the result of intemperance' ahd vice and poverty and ignorance—diseases of which the victim was often an innocent sufferer. The sins of the fathers were visited upon infants—the sins of by-gone generations upon brave girls and well-meaning young fellows —sins of children on patient women and hardworking men. Dr. Murray was a thinker as well as a worker. He might have easily become morbid in that .dreary place, where there was nothing beautiful to charm the mind, and little enough to charm the eye or the ear. But he did not.become. morbid. He had the Remembrance of a happy country home whey® his boyhood had been passed, he had the thoughts of his dear oka mother who lived there still, and the lessens she had taught the boy had not left him in his manhood; above all, he had thoughts of another woman —her letters, sometimes —the promise of herself before long. When he walked through the muddy street to his solitary home he did* not let his mind dwell on the room he had just visited, where three children lay sick in one bed, shivering with cold, and with no one but a drunken mother to attend to them, and give them suoh food as was provided for the - jfrWllY by a lazy father, whose earn-

did not let himself meditate oiitM details of his cases when he had left them; that have unfitted him for his work. No; he tried to imagine what home would be like when Norah was r&ftlly there, when the opening door would disclose her to him and draw him into the warm room, where there would be firelight and lamplight and—herself. She brought warmth and light and sweetness to him, to his life, to" Millwall. She brought that now. What would it be by-and-by—by-and-by—when— He reached home. He Jet himself into the unlighted hall. The house felt cold. He set his lips together ! and thought, “By and by.” He laid aside his umbrella, took off his coat, strode into the barely furnished, rather uncomfortable dining-room, and rang for dinner. . A middle-aged woman presented herself.

“Ohl" she said, “J’m sorry the fire’s out, sir.” “Never mind,” said Murray,.“l shall have to go out again after dinner, 1 expect.” “Ohl that reminds me, sir. An old gentleman come to see you. He wanted you to call upon his wife. But he said you wasn’t to trouble tonight if so be jou was tired.” “ Who was it, Mrs. Hawker?” “He was unknown to me, sir; but he was a respectable looking gentleman, quite clean, and a nice face to him—a bit of gray whiskers, too.” " Did he leave his name?” “ Yes; I laid it on yourconsultin’room table. He penciled it on the back of a envelope I had in my pocket. I’ll bring it in with your chop.” The doctor looked at it. In informed, but fairly legible letters, he -saw the words: Please call at your convfehauce. John Temple, 14 Plevna Street, (top). It was not a cheerful night. But Within —what was there within? And every day must bring its duties. Besides that, “at your convenance” was so delightfully agreeable after the usual messages that reached him. He went into the hall again„,pulled on his coat, took his, umbrella, put on his hat badly as doctors usually do, and banged the front door behind him. By-and-by the doctor came to a narrow street wljich seemed to be less well lit, noisier, dirtier than those through which he had already passed. He had several patients in this road, but he did not know exactly where 14 was. He went right up to the nearest door and peered; that was 11. He crossed over, presuming the numbers were odds and evens. He found 14. His knock brought a fat, untidy woman to the door, and several largeeyed children into the hall. As the children and herself were at the time in the enjoyment of what they considered health, Mrs. Bickle did not feel it Incumbent to be extra polite. ? Mrs. Bickle held the candle, and she and the children watched the gentleman’s ascent of the narrow, winding stair. The house being only two-storied, he had not far to go. Mr. Temple, who had apparently just started to meet him, stood waiting till he reached the top.

" Sir," he said, ” I take this kind 1 of you.” v J Dr. Murray conld not at first dis- 1 cern his face, but the tone of the i voice struck him pleasantly. It seem- I ed to accord with the " At your convenance.” 1 " In here, please, sir.” The man led the way into the < foun. Dr. Murray had seen many suoh i rooms—rather, he had seen many 1 much worse rooms. This was small; i it gave evidence of poverty; it was barely furnished. But it was a bright room. Exactly why it gave the impression of brightness it was difficult to say; perhaps because Mr. Temple was In it. That was the conclusion the doctor came to afterwards. There was a small fire in the grate. A lamp was on the round table. There was a chair—only one chair —which was put by the bedside. In the bed lay a woman. Mr. Temple introduced her briefly, “My wife.” The woman turned her eyes in the direction of the doctor. That was her recognition of his presence. “I thought I’d like you to step round and have a look at her,” said Mr. Temple. “I’ve feared she isn’t quite so well to-day. There ain’t much the matter, is there, Lucy? But I fancied it’d be a comfort to me if you’d see her.” When Mr. Temple said there wasn’t much the matter, it has to be borne in mind that he had been wont to see her for five-and-twenty years like this. “She had a stroke, and she has been paralyzed ever since, ” said Mr. Temple simply. He did not speak in a particularly sad voice, or as if he pitied her or himself. The doctor looked at Mrs. Temple? It would have been difficult to say what her age might have been, she was such a wreck of a woman. She was, as a matter of fact ten years younger than her husband, and he was going on for seventy. She was ' perfectly helpless. She could not move any part of her body without a ! d; she had even lost the use of her hands. Her face was drawn to one sine by the paralyzed muscles, and ■ thus distorted was bereft of any beauty it might have possessed. • Speech was difficult to her, and the ; few words she uttered were scarcely I articulate. There was no light or • color in her face; only her eyes i showed that she was a living woman. , They looked straight out, blue and . shining, vivid against the parchment dakim the scant white hair. WBimu i> v>iv r -i. Tnmnle, I will this room's draughty, and she naturally feels the cold. She never complains, but I know she feels the cold. Don’t you Lucy ? ” She muttered something. “Yes,” said Mr. Temple, “she does. You may be sure if she owns to it there’s reason. The only thing we ever quarrel’ about is that she won’t ever say what ails her, unless I worry it out. She’s an obstinate woman, is Lucy.” The idea of applying such a word to the poor creature would have seemed ludicrous to the doctor if it ' hadn’t been for Temple’s tone and the look in the eyes of his wife as she turned them in the direction of the old man. They were, always turned in his direction when he was iu the room. That was one of the things the doctor found out before very long.

“Who attends to her?” he inquired, when he had asked Temple a few questions and written a prescription. “Why, I do, sir,” said Temple. “I wouldn’t let any one else touch her.” “Do you mean you do everything?” “Why, yes, sir. Who should if not me? She is my wife. I used to be a bit clumsy at first, but I’ve had time to learn. I manage pretty fair now, don’t I, Lucy?” Again the grateful, devoted eyes shone upon him. The doctor had seen how a woman could look when she loves. There were times when the remembrance of shining, longJashed, upturned eyes thrilled him almost to pain, but —would Norah ever look at him like that ? He cleared his throat before he spoke again. “But you go to work. What then? Is she alone?” “Why, she is, sir, so to speak. I wouldn't leave her if I could help it. But I always commend her to the Lord before Igo out, and He ain’t never failed us yet.” The doctor had a man’s hatred of cant. But he had sufficient insight by now into the character of those with whom he dealt to know that these words were as simple and sincere as those which had preceded them.

“I get up early of a morning, you see, sir,” said Temple, “and make .our breakfasts and attend to her. Then before I start for work —I’m in an engineer’s employ —I just boards her up in bed so as she can’t fall out. I’m back at dinner hour, and we have it together. Then, when I leave work,my evenin’ soon passes. There’s usually a bit of cooking to be done, and washing up, and the room to be seen to. A invalid must have things clean about her; it isn’t agreeable to just lie and look at everything dirty. 1 like Lucy to keep bright—but there 1 she always is; and if occasionally she gets down I soon cheer her up, don’t I,Lucy? Me and Sunny together. Sunny—that’s our bullfinch. He’s asleep now, covered up, you see, and I won’t disturb him. But by day he’s that lively! He chirps and talks away to Lucy; he’s company for her, Sunny is, bless his little heart 1” He told the story of his great unselfish life without any idea that ii was either the one or the other. liE§ deed, he would have been surprised

if the doctor had followed his inclination to wring his band and tell him he was proud to make his acquaintance. And the doctor did not know the extent of his self-sacrifice. He could not, even if he had known, realize at once what it meant to the tired workingman to rise early in the cold winter mornings that everything might be ready for the day before he started off; the room was tidied, the fire was lit, the breakfast was made, and Lucy fed,before he touched a morsel. Other men have their wives to attend to them, roughly perhaps, but to some extent kindly. Temple, however, received no help. He even did some of the washing that money might be saved from the laundress. He gave Lucy little luxuries. When she had beef-tea he ate the tasteless meat from which all nourishment had been extracted, and he enjoyed It the more the more tasteless it was, for then he knew it was likely the beef-tea was good. If she protested it was useless; she had given up protesting long ago. He did it, and she took it as a matter of course. But she was not ungrateful. His reward? Ah, he had his re-

ward. He loved her better than he had ever done in the days of her youth and health and beauty. And what does true love ask but the opportunity to serve? And she? What she felt for him it would take a better pen than mine to describe; rather I defy any pen to describe it. I believe even the angels who looked into that garret could not understand it, for angels do not suffer nor need the tender ministry of man. They do not know what it is to be a burden where one would be a burden-bearer, and yet to find not gloom nor reproaches, but chivalrous devotion. Only He who gave the heart of women its needs and its powers could have understood how this one regarded her husband —He, and here and there another made wise by suffering. When Dr. Murray had gone, the old man got ready for the night. He was obliged to retire early whenever possible. He brought warm water to the bedside and washed the hands and face of his wife, and tied on her white night-cap. In the morning he would perform her toilet again, and do her hair for her. And he took pride in doing it, as he said, “as stylish as a hairdresser.” Then he i arranged on a chair, so as to be within reach, a candle in a tin candle- [ stick, a glass of water and a biscuit. ; After that he fetched a large prayerbook and the Bible, and read the Psalms and the second lessen for the thanked Gotf W *rnWTlft»lJs»wL „H« vouchsafed to them that day, for food and power to work, and for a home. He remembered those without these blessings, ari<Ju begged that they might receive them. He commended himself and his wife to God’s keeping throughout the night.

Then his day was over. • In the night Mrs. Temple was thirsty. She did not disturb her husband; but he awoke, lit the candle, and held the glass of water to her lips. Dr. Murray kept his promise to call. He got into the habit of looking in on the old [couple pretty frequently. He wrote and told Norah about them, and one day she sent Mrs. Temple some flowers, and the simple act gave such happiness that it was repeated, and during the winter the garret was never without a chrysanthemum or two. “The spring brought hope to the doctor. He knew that Mrs. Hawker’s reign was drawing to an end, and that the “by-and-by” would soon be here. It had been a hard winter. Strikes had brought added poverty to many a home, and the infant sickness and mortality had been terrible. And then there had been the influenzal But he had battled on, working all day and sometimes half the night, and kept himself brave with the thought of Norah. And now it was April. And on the Ist of June I

He called on the Temples before he went away. They had known that his marriage was approaching, but not exactljLthe date of it. “I am going off for a month,” he said to John. Then reddening, “When I come back I hope to bring another friend to see you.” “Sir!” The old man looked at him. Then grasping his meaning held out his rough yet gentle hand. “God bless you, sirl You couldn’t tell me anything that would make me more rejoiced. The dear young lady! We seem to know her now, already; but we shall really see her and love her, I am sure. ” “Oh, yes,” said Murray, “you’ll love her, Mr. Temple. Everybody does.” “Lucy, did you hear? The doctor is going to fetch the dear lady.” The woman unclosed her eyes. She looked at the doctor, and the drawn face seemed flooded with sweetness. Her lips moved. “She says, ‘God bless you,’ sir. Lucy says, ‘God bless you.’ And when she says it she means it. Ah, we know what a blessed thing married life can be; don’t we Lucy? It’s a solemn fact, sir, to take a woman to be your wife. It’s a solemn fact. But when the blessing of God rests upon a union, marriage is a sacrament that brings you added grace. It is, sir. Your faith grows, and your love grows, and your nature deepens. You learn many things. I’m old and I’ve lived, but the part of my life that has helped me to the best knowledge is—just that. I took Lucy. I said I’d ‘love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health/ I’ve tried, and we’ve been happy. Sir, love does it all. You’ll want to comfort her, you’ll have to honor her, and if sickness comes you’ll love her all the more. ’' From the bed there came a strange

sound. It was something between a laugh and a sob. And the doctoi turning, looked away again. Her husband’s words had moved the wife to tears, but her face was radiant with joy In her upturned eyes. Temple laid his hand on hers—hers, which could give no answering pressure. “Sir,” he said, "I can’t wish you better happiness than I’ve had. I wish you as much. And I take 11 I’m about the happiest man In London.”—[Cornhill Magazine.

HUNTING PYTHONS. Natal Natives Burn the Forest and Drive the Reptiles In a Pit. The colony of Natal, South Africa, abounds in boa constrictors and pythons. While they do not attack men they are especially destructive of cattle, sheep and oxen, and for this reason parties are formed by hunters and natives to burn the bush and forest in order to exterminate the pests. Some of the soldiers at Pietermaritzburg were recently informed by a party of neighboring Zulus of the whereabouts of a huge python that had been destroying their oxen. The soldiers, with 200 natives, started off to capture the snake, and having located it, the forest was fired for about a mile roundabout, an enormous pit having been previously dug in towards the centre of the inclosed space. , What with the burning brush and the shouts of the excited Kaffirs they soon drove the reptile towards the pit where, closing in upon him, they forced him into it. The python proved to be of enormous size, being thirty-two feet long and forty-one inches in circumference. It appeared to be quite stupid dazed, having just eaten a young ox that had been let into the inclosure. An enormous cage with iron bars half way down the front having been constructed the snake was got out of the pit and taken into Maritzburg in the cage. Here it is kept on exhibition at the barracks, and is fed twice a week, two Kaffir goats at each meal. It will not eat anything that has been already kiiled for it, preferring to kill its food itself. The goats are thrust through a small door at the end df the cage alive, when fixing its great eyes upon them, the snake suddenly lunges forward and crushes them in its powerful folds. After covering them with a thick slime about two inches thick, before swallowing,it flattens them out by squeezing them, and then devours them almost at a gulp. After this the python goes to sleep and does until it is time to feed A gentleman in Maritzburg owns a python that has been confined in a cage for over thirteen months. During this period the snake has not eaten a mouthful of food of any kind, although every conceivable delicacy Os likely snake diet, such as frogs, birds, rats and meats, has been set to tempt its appetite. Its fast seems not to be broken and the owner has at last abandoned the idea of coaxing the coily prisoner with food. It drinks a very small quantity of water. In a dormant state this fasting would be better understood, for in this state reptiles of this description have been known to exist for periods of eighteen months, or even three years.— [New York World.

Curiosities About Wood. The strongest wood which grows within the limits ofthd United States is that known as “nutmeg” hickory, which flourishes on the lower Arkansas river. The most elastic is tamarack, the black, or shelbark, standing not far below. The wood with the least elasticity and lowest specific gravity is the Fiscus aurea. The wood of the highest specific gravity is the blue wood of Texas and Mexico. The heaviest of the foreign woods are the pomegranate and the lignum vitae; the lightest, cork. The tensile strength of the best-known woods is set forth in the following, the words “tensile strength” meaning the weight of power required to tear asunder one square inch of each : Ash, 14,200 pounds; beech, 11,500; cedar, 14,400; chestnut, 10,500; cypress, 6,000; elm, 18,400; fir, 12,000; lance, 28,000; lignum vitae, 11,800; locust, 20,500; mahogany, 21,000; maple, 10,500; American white oak, 11,500; pear, 9,800; pitch pine, 12,000; larch, 9,500; poplar, 7,000; spruce, 10,290; teak, 14,000; walnut, 7,800; willow, 18,000. The weight in pounds per square foot (without fractions) of the wellknown woods (dry) is as follows: Butternut, 25; cedar, 85; cherry, 44; chestnut, 88; cork, 15; dogwood, 47; ebony, 83; box elder, 48; elm, 41; blue gum, 52; water gum, 62; white hickory, 49; shellbark hickory, 43; holly, 47; juniper, 85; lancewood, 45; larch, 34; basswood or linn, 87; mahogany, 66; hard maple, 46; white maple, 84; mulberry, 85; white oak, 58; persimmon, 44; pear, 41; pitch pine, 41; . red pine, 86; white pine, 84; yellow pine, 33; plum, 49; poplar, 83; spruce, 81; sycamore, 88; tamarack, 28; black walnut, 41; white walnut, 82; the willows, from 30 to 86, and dhe yew, 49. Four hundred and thirteen different species of trees grow in the different States and Territories, and of this number, 16, when perfectly seasoned, will sink in water. These woods of high specific gravity grow mostly in the arid regions of New Mexico, Arizona and Nevada.—(St. Louis Republic. The great fortifications at Quebec, which first and last have cost SBO,000,000 or $40,000,000, are crumbling down, and no effort will be made to restore them, for their military significance has passed away.